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User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling

2021-02-27T09:43:18Z

Claude LeChat: Fixed typo

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:FreeRIDErs]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Wolf]] [[Category:Transgender]]

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}

{{title
|name=Imperfect Coupling
|author=Claude LeChat}}

December 20, 157AL

Business was slow that day at the Freeriders Garage in Uplift, which
as of late happened about as often as dry spells in Cascadia. So it
was quite a special event when Rhianna Stonegate herself came out to
meet the unusual pair in the waiting room: a black she-wolf
accompanied by a bony woman, maybe 40 years old, with raven-black hair
in a ponytail and clad in black denim. As they sat next to each other,
the wolf on her haunches and the woman in a chair, their heads were
roughly at the same height, which only made it more obvious they both
had the same triangular, mobile ears.

"Hi there," she said a little uncertainly. "Welcome to Freeriders. I'm
Rhianna Stonegate, how may I help you?"

"I'm Magnild, miss Stonegate," the wolf said with a surprising amount
of timidity for her fierce looks. "I don't suppose you remember me..."

Rhianna's wide smile begged to disagree. "You're one of Diane's new
girls! I gave you the Rip Van Winkle treatment a few weeks ago."

"That's me!" Magnild positively beamed. Her companion merely nodded
gravely in greeting. "And this is my, um..."

"I'm Joanne Crawford," the other woman said. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," the host answered good-naturedly. "What brings you back so
soon, Magnild?"

The RIDE pointed her muzzle at her fore paws, which were devoid of fur
to unequal heights, scorched metal showing underneath.

"Oh dear." Rhianna bent down to see better. "What happened to you?"

"Well... I was on a supply run..."

"Weren't you going to become a DJ?" interrupted Kaylee, padding lazily
in from the back on her broad fuzzy lynx paws. She stopped next to
Rhianna and gave her a gentle head-butt.

"Ostensibly, yes, but we all have to do a little of everything.
There's no place for prima-donnas at a bar. Especially not Cheers."

Rhianna nodded. "Makes sense."

"And so it happens that I was over at Spirit Ed's when the fire broke
out."

Kaylee froze for a second while she searched the mesh and sent Rhianna
the most relevant results.

"I see." the host looked from Magnild to Joanne. "Let me guess..."

The other woman nodded. "Typical story. We were trapped in the burning
warehouse. I needed shielding to reach the door, and Magnild here
needed thumbs to open it."

Rhianna examined her more carefully. "You crossrode."

"Yes."

"And you're not happy about it."

"It was that or die there. Not alone, either."

"But you're partnered now?" Kaylee interjected again.

Joanne cast her an amused look that said, aren't you a curious kitty?

"More like roommates," said Magnild. She didn't sound very convinced.
"Joanne has an apartment, and I have an income. At least until Eddie
can rebuild."

"None of our business, really," Rhianna said quickly. "Come on, let's
get a good look at that fire damage. Wait here if you don't mind, Ms.
Crawford. We won't be long."

She waved the huge wolf into the back. Kaylee trailed behind for a
moment.

"So," she asked with a complicit wink. "Did you have your crossriding
party yet?"

"My friends know me better than to try," the woman answered stoically.

"You sound ''really'' unhappy about it. Going to cross back when the
time is up then?"

"Ask me again in three years."

There was a moment of silence as Kaylee appeared to have run out of
questions. Then Rhianna poked her head back out. "What's keeping you,
kit-kat? We have work to do."

"Sorry!" the lynx said to both women, and bounced after her partner,
humming the theme song from Spirited Away.

----

There was a stretch of bare ground behind the garage, right under the
edge of a protective dome. Beyond that, the city ended; all one could
see westward through the shimmering hardlight bubble was the Dry Ocean,
reaching out to an impossibly distant horizon that tricked the eye,
covered in nothing but perpetually wind-blown rock and sand. Not far
from there, the road passed through a guarded airlock before turning
southward to join the old desert-side skimmerway. Wolf and woman
walked in the opposite direction, buildings on either side of the
street growing taller as the rising dome made way, small businesses
gradually replaced by apartment blocks.

"I don't understand," said Magnild as the pair entered a small park.
They leaned against each other on the grass beneath an oak tree, tails
wagging in tandem. "Why is everyone giving you grief over not wanting
to be a woman? I mean, sure, back home in Sturmhaven we believe women
are the superior sex, but here we're supposed to be in Gondwana's most
progressive polity."

Joanne snorted. "Aren't you glad you made me a woman?"

"Of course I am. I'm programmed to be. But if it makes you so unhappy,
it's not worth it. Even knowing we had no choice..."

"Well, we didn't. Never regret being alive, kiddo. That way lies
madness." The woman sighed. "To answer your question, we can talk
about 'people, not plumbing' until we're blue in the face, but the
truth is, couples break up all the time because one of the partners
crossrode. Can't even blame them. We've known for over five centuries
that sexuality isn't a choice."

Magnild nodded. "Then I guess Zharus isn't that much more enlightened
than Earth after all."

"No, we're not. Even seen a man wearing a skirt?"

"Now that you mention it... only as a joke, or for shock value. And
that was before the twencen craze took over completely."

"There you go. Ask yourself, why not? After all, that man could have
been a woman just moments before."

"Huh," said the she-wolf.

"Truth is," the woman explained patiently, "gender identity is a part
of us. Imagine ripping out your paws and putting in parts from a tiger
RIDE instead. They'd be bigger, stronger..."

"But not mine. Not ''myself'' anymore. Even if I installed the correct
drivers."

"Exactly. Here we are, able to turn a man into a woman on the lunch
break, with no side effects, and still have time to eat. The dream of
transgender people since forever. But we never quite came to terms
with it. So we throw parties, and act out gender stereotypes, in an
attempt to make it feel like we didn't actually lose anything."

"You lose something, you gain something," pointed out Magnild.

"Yes. Except in life, unlike in math, a plus and a minus don't cancel
each other out."

The wolf stared at the foliage above as if looking for her words.
"Oh my," she said at length, "look at the time. My shift is about to
start."

The woman got to her feet. "Go, kiddo. See you tonight."

"Why not ride with me? I'll buy you a drink." The RIDE lifted half
a meter into the air, unfolding into into a sleek skimmer bike with
a pointed front, that seemed to be racing even when standing still.

"You have to let me pay for something one of these days," the woman
chided, but she climbed on nevertheless.

"As soon as you have any money to pay with," countered Magnild. They
drove on, weaving skillfully among the moderate traffic of the early
afternoon.

----

As one of the most famous bars in Uplift, Cheers tended to surprise
new patrons with its contrasts. On the one hand there was the rustic
decor, all wooden beams and wrought iron. Then the fashions on display,
a mix of styles from all over the 20th century, like a neverending
reenactment fair. Last but not least, the clientele itself, from
humans with their RIDEs through Fused pairs and mostly Integrates,
their techno-organic nature proudly paraded. It all made the one woman
alone at a corner table stand out even more.

"May I sit down?" asked a voice confidently. Joanne looked up... and
up... at a fox Integrate with hardlight lenses poking through the fur
on her arms and a scintillating jewel plugged into a socket right
between her breasts. Her tie-dyed sundress looked real -- not a
projection -- and expensive enough. It followed the ample curves of
its owner's body, shifting and wrinkling with every move.

"By all means," replied Joanne, counting the empty tables from the
corner of her eye. Rush hour wasn't even close to starting.

"I haven't seen you around," the vixen said conversationally. She
gestured with a tall glass, filled with a liquid in much the same
colors as her dress. "Cheers."

Joanne raised her own stein. "You wouldn't have." She drank calmly.

"Name's Noelle, by the way," offered the Integrate.

"Joanne," came the flat reply. "Nice to meet you."

The furred woman giggled, covering her pointy muzzle with a hand.
"Don't worry, I'm not trying to pick you up. Just bored out of my
skull."

"That's a relief." Joanne leaned forward and did her best to smile.
"So, you come here often?"

"When I'm not haunting other haunts. Did I mention I get bored easily?"

"That's not a bad thing, if you do something about it. How come you
picked me, though?"

"You look like a girl who likes girls. No offense." The vixen giggled
again.

"Really!" Joanne's smile faded away. "The joke's on you. I like men.
Always have."

"Have you tried? Crossriding does strange things to one's preferences."
Seeing Joanne's face, Noelle added quickly, "Couldn't help but notice,
with my sensors."

"I dunno. Have you tried minding your own business?"

The silence that descended between them was broken by a cheerful black
wolf resting her chin on the table. "Is this person bothering you,
Joanne?"

Joanne shook her head. "Nah..."

"If you say so. Listen, can I borrow you for a moment?"

"Sure thing, kiddo." She walked around the table and stood with her
arms outstretched. Magnild reared up and enveloped her, woman and RIDE
turning into a shaggy werewolf. Together, they were taller than Noelle.
More curvaceous, too.

"Hot damn," said the Integrate. But the Fused pair was already walking
away.

"Thanks for the save, kiddo," Joanne said as their combined form
climbed down into the basement -- a cavernous space with one wall
taken up by tanks of fabber matter, and the rest dedicated to shelves.
Row after row of bottles crowded every flat surface. In a narrow
recess, large crates had been untidily stacked directly on the ground.

"Someone hasn't heard of pallets," Magnild commented, eyeing the
forklift parked nearby. She moved to carry one of the crates to the
dumbwaiter in another corner, then a second one. "Was it true, what
you told that woman?"

"Yeah. Just not the whole truth."

Magnild gave an inward nod. "Maybe you should give her a chance then?
I've seen her before. She's nice."

"Don't you start!" Joanne's anger faded as quickly as it had come.
"All right. Maybe I will. It's not like I have any better options."

----

Window shopping isn't much fun without company, but it beats sitting
alone at home browsing the mesh. Or so Joanne told herself as she
walked the aisles at Uplift Plaza Mall, an orgy of light and color
assaulting her eyes. All around her, happy chatter mixed with the
music and announcements from speakers as visitors milled about, often
engaged in shopping sprees that made their RIDEs look like pack mules.
Free from the pressure of buying, she wandered aimlessly from store
to store, through doorways so wide they made the walls on either side
almost symbolic. The diversity of merchandise was staggering; thanks
to fabber technology, any outlet could carry an astronomical number of
products and only make more of whatever sold, on the spot.

Electronics. Art and craft supplies. Books, toys and tea sets. Clothes.

She saw the young man from afar. He was on the short side, with a
round face, dressed in gray slacks and a plain white shirt topped by
a cardigan. He stood enraptured, admiring a very different outfit:
very short shorts, a baggy blouse and canvas sandals, all in various
shades of blue, pink and purple. The fact that it was displayed on a
female mannequin didn't seem to matter.

"Excuse me," said Joanne, stopping behind him. "Are you going to buy
that?"

He startled. "N-no. Please, go ahead."

"I don't have any money. Besides, it would look great on you."

"You-you think?" The young man's blush brightened the room.

"Very much so. Want me to order for you?"

The blush extended to his ears. "I don't care what people think."

"All right then." She turned to leave.

"Wait!" Something in his voice stopped Joanne in her tracks. "Wanna
hang out?"

"I would like that very much," she stated quietly. "I'm Joanne, by the
way."

"Yanis," he replied. They waited together while the store clerk packed
the young man's wares, casting curious glances in their direction -- a
girl in hispter-ish attire from the 'oughts. Joanne returned a serious
look.

"The evening is still young," she said as they left the store. "How
about we head up to the food court?"

Yanis nodded. "Sure thing. I'll buy."

"Oh, I can afford a burger and a beer. Probably."

"A beer sounds good. Don't worry, I'm 30. Everybody just says I look
ten years younger."

"I didn't say anything." On a whim she added, "How old do I look?"

"Dunno... Thirty-five, at most?"

"Flatterer." She focused on riding the escalators, a broad dumb grin
of happiness on her face.

They never knew when the sky finished darkening and stars began
sparkling through the transparent cupola above their table. Like
Joanne, Yanis only made minimum wage. Unlike her, he'd been paid
recently. More importantly, he still lived with his parents. The
young man was a librarian, and could talk forever about the ways
colonial literature had diverged from its Earth ancestry during
the centuries of interstellar travel.

She could have listened to him all night long, and then some.

"There's something you should know about me," he said as they crossed
the mall's parking lot, skimmers and RIDEs taking off in the buzzing
of lifters. He took a deep breath. "I like men."

Joanne tried not to cry. She tried really hard. It actually worked.

"Friends, then," she managed in the end.

"Deal." They shook hands.

Long after midnight, Magnild found her lying in bed, staring at the
ceiling. The RIDE rested her big head on the sheets, and the woman
petted her furry roommate without a word. They drifted asleep together
at last.

----

It was a modest Christmas party, with fabbed steak and wine and a tree
made mostly of hardlight. Joanne invited some friends over, a married
couple who had arrived from somewhere in southern China with a
shipment of luxury goods and hadn't gone back yet. They kept blaming
the months-long return trip -- at interstellar distances, the "fast"
in faster-than-light is relative -- but Joanne suspected they were
increasingly just making up rationalizations to stay for good. On her
part, Magnild invited a coworker from Cheers: a petite red wolf RIDE
named Anya, who seemed unsure of herself at first. Yanis didn't have
anyone to bring over, so after some deliberation they added Noelle to
the list. It all worked out better than expected. The RIDEs shared
stories from the Nextus-Sturmhaven war over 30 years before, longer
than most of the humans present had been alive. Later in the evening,
the Integrate entertained them with a show that mixed dancing lights,
telekinesis and good old prestidigitation. Dawn found them singing
carols around the tree, wine-powered enthusiasm more than making up
for lack of skill.

For New Year they all went out together to Martinez Square to watch
the globe slowly descend atop the old university building (better
known as Miskatonic U to the students), and counted down along with
the crowd before the tall facade erupted in psychedelic animations
and the dome above them was splattered in virtual fireworks that
lasted for half an hour. Temperature within city limits had been
lowered for the holidays, not to the levels of a real winter, but
enough to bring shivers in people used to eternal summer. Towards
morning they split up. Yanis slept over, using Magnild for a bed. He
didn't have a RIDE partner of his own, and Joanne didn't ask why not,
but the black wolf was growing on him, and she could see the reverse
was true as well. He returned to them later that day to try out his
new clothes, for their eyes alone.

"You know," he told them, "there's an urban legend circulating among
high school students. Supposedly there's this raccoon RIDE who rolled
out of the factory with an unusual quirk: the part of his RI core
that does gender identity was stuck in neutral. So he would make all
his riders androgynous. Still fully functional, mind you, just not
manly."

"I bet most men would rather be women," quipped Joanne.

"Right. So the poor raccoon spent all his life being sold anonymously,
passing from hand to hand until RIDEs got their freedom. And he's
still out there somewhere, looking desperately for a partner who would
accept him the way he is."

"Would you?" Magnild asked gently.

Yanis took a good while to answer. "There aren't many other RIDEs I'd
consider getting."

"Me either," said Joanne. "But for now I'm stuck with Magnild here."

"Stuck? How so?"

They told him the whole story. He was very quiet for a long while
afterward.

----

"We don't have to be Fuse partners, you know," Magnild told Joanne one
slow day, as they took the stock at Cheers. RFID tags tended to fall
off or stop working, so there was no avoiding a manual inventory now
and then. "It will make things that much harder in three years when
you crossride back."

"Are you sure I will?"

"For Yanis? I'd crossride for him myself if I could. But I'm built to
be female and nothing else. That's why a RIDE changes its rider, and
not the other way around."

Joanne smiled sadly. "That's not the issue. Why would he wait for me?
Sooner or later he'll find a nice boy who will make him happier than
I ever could, then it will be over. No more reason for me to go back."

"Tsk," the she-wolf gently scolded her. "You should learn to trust
people more. Yourself included."

The woman wanted very much to do just that. But how do you even grasp
at straws when there's none in sight? She bit her lip and focused on
the job at hand. It didn't really help.

With New Year behind them, business was picking up again. Auditors
finally got around to doing their jobs, the insurance money came
through, and halfway through the month Spirit Ed reopened its doors.
The first thing Joanne did was to ask for a raise. As expected, she
was promptly let go. It didn't take long until Yanis found her another
job with a bookstore at the mall. For all the virtual reality and fast
time, some people still enjoyed reading books the old-fashioned way,
and thanks to fabbers a deluxe edition bound in imitation leather was
no more expensive than a cheap paperback -- unless of course somebody
wanted a genuine handmade book. If anything, with billions of titles
always available, a bookstore was first and foremost in the business
of curation. Why, just the serial novels detailing Clint Brubeck's
imaginary adventures dwarfed the legendary explorer's already epic
biography by two orders of magnitude.

A day like any other, Joanne carted a batch of books from the back and
started arranging them on shelves. But for some reason she couldn't
read the titles. She rubbed her eyes, and was surprised to find her
fingers wet.

"It's only three years," she reminded herself. "Time flies. You won't
even notice."

She couldn't even believe her own lie. So she furiously went back to
work, putting all her mind into the repetitive motions.

"Only three years... Only three years... Only three years..."

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 2016-02-18}}

FreeRIDErs (publication order)

2021-02-24T18:20:01Z

Claude LeChat: Added Intended Side-Effects.

This is the publication order of the "main" stories in the FreeRIDErs universe. Feel free to add your story here once it's published.

==2012==
07/22/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Deserted|Deserted]], [[User:Robotech_Master/Merging_Traffic|Merging Traffic]], [[User:Robotech_Master/FreeRIDErs_dircut|FreeRIDErs]] 
07/25/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/All Nighter|Integration Part 1: All Nighter]] 
07/29/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Integrates|Integration Part 2: Integrates]] 
07/31/12 [[User:Robotech Master/RIDEgirls Day Out|Integration Part 3: RIDEgirls' Day Out]] 
08/05/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Dating Games|Integration Part 4: Dating Games]] 
08/08/12 [[User:Robotech Master/N00bs|Integration Part 5: N00bs]] 
08/11/12 [[User:Robotech Master/All Aboard|Integration Part 6: All Aboard!]] 
08/12/12 [[User:Robotech Master/A Meating of the Board|Integration Part 7: A Meating of the Board]] 
08/16/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Meat the Press|Integration Part 8: Meat, the Press]] 
08/16/12 [[User:Jetfire/Aloha|Aloha]] 
08/19/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Stockholm Vacation|Integration Part 9: Stockholm Vacation]] 
08/22/12 [[User:Jetfire/Splashdown|Splashdown]] 
08/22/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Spaceflight of Fancy|Integration Part 10: Spaceflight of Fancy]] 
08/24/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Rochelle Rufia|Rochelle & Rufia: R&R]] 
08/26/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Slightly Foxed|Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed]] 
08/27/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Citizen Katie|Integration Part 11: Citizen Katie]] 
08/31/12 [[Turnover]] 
09/01/12 [[User:Robotech Master/The Crew|Integration Part 12: The Crew]] 
09/02/12 [[User:Jetfire/Astra-naught|Astra-naught]] 
09/08/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Cat's Paw]] 
09/08/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Kaylee Anny|Integration Part 13: Kaylee & Anny]] 
09/14/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Viral Thief]] 
09/16/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Assault Batteries|Integration Part 14: Assault and Batteries]] 
09/17/12 [[User:Jetfire/The_Lady_of_the_Tiger|The Lady of the Tiger]] 
09/22/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Multimillion Vault]] 
10/04/12 [[User:Jetfire/Cave_of_Wonders|Cave of Wonders]] 
10/07/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Task of Amontillado|Integration Part 15: The Task of Amontillado]] 
10/09/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/More Foxed|Longer Fused, More Foxed]] 
10/14/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Integrate Raids|Integration Part 16: The Integrate Raids]] 
10/18/12 [[User:JonBuck/Marshals|Marshals]] 
10/21/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Kandace Jenni Friendship|Kandace and Jenni: A Beautiful Friendship]] 
10/26/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Family Matters|Integration Part 17: Family Matters]] 
11/14/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Many Meetings|Integration Part 18: Many Meetings]] 
12/13/12 [[User:Jetfire/Sum of Their Parts|Sum of Their Parts]], [[User:Jetfire/Walkabout|Walkabout]] 
12/15/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Meetings Completing|Integration Part 19: Meetings Completing]] 
12/23/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Prodigals|Integration Part 20: Prodigals]] 
12/31/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Enemy Lines|Integration Part 21: Enemy Lines]]

==2013==
01/22/13 [[User:JonBuck/Fly With Me|Fly With Me]] 
01/29/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/jeanette-lioness|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Second-Hand Lioness]] 
02/01/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Alpha Strike|Integration Part 22: Alpha Strike]] 
02/13/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Universe of Battle|Integration Part 23: Universe of Battle]] 
02/19/13 [[User:Robotech Master/What Happened Mouse|Integration Part 24: What Happened to the Mouse?]] 
02/23/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/Rochelle Rufia Redux|Rochelle & Rufia Redux: Foxing About]] 
02/27/13 [[User:Robotech Master/The Big Date|Integration Part 25 (Epilogue): The Big Date]] 
03/24/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Impossible Things|Impossible Things]] 
04/23/13 [[User:Jetfire/All_Spark_Bulletin|All Spark Bulletin]] 
04/30/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Aloha Stonegates|Aloha, Stonegates!]], [[User:Robotech Master/Skunked|Skunked!]] 
06/03/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Paws Up|Paws Up!]] 
06/24/13 [[User:Jetfire/Spies_Among_Us|Spies Among Us]] 
08/27/13 [[User:Robotech Master/A Wolf at the Door|Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door]] 
09/15/13 [[Taking the Plunge]] 
09/24/13 [[User:Jetfire/Broken_Crown|Broken Crown]] 
10/06/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Spotted Stowaway|Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway]], [[User:Robotech Master/Saints Marching|The Saints Go Marching In]] 
11/17/13 [[User:Claude_LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] 
11/22/13 [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] 
12/03/13 [[User:Jetfire/Spacer_Oddity| A Spacer Oddity]] 
12/08/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/A_Fritzmas_Carol|A Fritzmas Carol]] 
12/20/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Yield Ahead|Merging Traffic II: Yield Ahead]] 
12/22/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Good Bad Fritzy|The Good, the Bad, and the Fritzy]] 
12/26/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Family Lynx|Family Lynx]]

==2014==
01/11/14 [[User:Robotech Master/A_Wolf_in_Sheep's_Clothing|Wolves in the Fold, Part Two: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing]] 
01/13/14 [[User:Jetfire/Spice Girls|Spice Girls]] 
01/18/14 [[User:Robotech Master/The General|The General]] 
01/30/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Greatest Show|The Greatest Show]] 
02/09/14 [[User:Robotech Master/GI Joe|G.I. Joe]] 
02/12/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/Joseph_Life|Joseph Steader, This is Your Life!]] 
02/12/14 [[User:Jetfire/Cat_Scratch_Fever|Cat Scratch Fever]] 
02/14/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Pride Lioness|Pride of Lioness]] 
02/19/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/shell_game|The Gondwana Grand Tour, Prologue: Shell Game]] 
03/02/14 [[User:Jetfire/Rescue_911|Rescue 911]] 
03/13/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/Where_Everybody_Knows_Your_Name|Where Everybody Knows Your Name]] 
03/15/14 [[User:Jetfire/In_Space|In Space...]] 
03/16/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Kevin De-Claude|Kevin, De-Claude]] 
03/23/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Final Countdown|The Final Countdown]] 
05/10/14 [[User:Robotech Master/youngguns|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Young Guns]] 
06/15/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_uplift|The Gondwana Grand Tour, Chapter One: Uplift and the Tunnel]] 
07/12/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Totalia Prelude|Return to Totalia, Part One: Prelude]] 
07/24/14 [[User:Jetfire/The_Touch|The Touch]] 
10/22/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/Dog Day Morning|Dog Day Morning]] 
11/15/14 [[User:Robotech Master/When the Lady Smiles|Merging Traffic III: When the Lady Smiles]]

==2015==
01/27/15 [[User:Robotech_Master/Ride_Sally|Marshals: Beginnings, Episode One: Ride, Sally]] 
01/27/15 [[User:Robotech_Master/Reaping_the_Whirlwind|Marshals: Beginnings, Episode Two: Reaping the Whirlwind]] 
04/21/15 [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Visitors|Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels, Part One: Visitors]] 
04/21/15 [[User:Jetfire/The_Power|The Power]] 
05/16/15 [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Clementine|Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels, Part Two: Clementine]] 
06/16/15 [[User:Jetfire/United_Way|United Way]] 
06/17/15 [[User:Robotech_Master/Parallels Fleet|Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels, Part Three: The Fleet]] 
07/06/15 [[User:JonBuck/FADE IN|FADE IN]] and [[User:Robotech_Master/Tick Tock Tick|Tick Tock Tick]] 
12/09/15 [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]]

==2016==
01/07/16 [[User:Robotech_Master/Darling_Clementine|Oh My Darling Clementine]] 
01/26/16 [[User:Jetfire/All_Hell_Breakin_Loose|All Hell's Breakin' Loose]] 
01/28/16 [[User:Robotech_Master/ANGLE ON|ANGLE ON]] 
01/29/16 [[User:Robotech_Master/DISSOLVE TO|DISSOLVE TO]] 
02/19/16 [[User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling|Imperfect Coupling]], [[User:Robotech Master/Cold and Wet Nose for News|Cold and Wet Nose for News]] 
04/07/16 [[User:Jetfire/Riding_The_Eye_of_the_Storm |Riding the Eye of the Storm]] 
12/13/16 [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_nuevosan|The Gondwana Grand Tour, Chapter Two: Nuevo San Antonio]], [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_sturmhaven|The Gondwana Grand Tour, Chapter Three: Sturmhaven]]

==2017==
06/26/17 [[User:Robotech_Master/reindeergames|Jeanette, Tamarind, and the Young Guns: Reindeer Games]] 
09/09/17 [[User:Robotech Master/Interchange Ahead|Merging Traffic IV: Interchange Ahead]] and [[User:Robotech Master/Raising Ruth|Raising Ruth]] 

==2018==
07/22/18 [[User:Robotech Master/A Dash from the Past|A Dash from the Past]] 
08/12/18 [[User:Robotech Master/Immigrant Song|Immigrant Song]] 
08/12/18 [[User:Jetfire/iron_hand_in_a_velvet_glove|Iron Hand in a Velvet Glove]] 
09/08/18 [[User:Robotech Master/Dressed for Success|Dressed for Success]] 
09/15/18 [[User:Robotech Master/Thank You for the Music|Thank You for the Music]] and [[User:Robotech Master/Head Over Heels|Head Over Heels]] 
09/17/18 [[User:Robotech Master/Warm Welcome|Warm Welcome]] 
09/19/18 [[User:Robotech Master/Welcome Back|Welcome (Back) to the Real World]] 
10/03/18 [[User:Jetfire/Slow_Boat|Slow Boat to Zharus]] 
12/03/18 [[User:Robotech_Master/Hello, KITTy|Hello, KITTy]] 

==2019==
03/23/19 [[User:Robotech Master/Cougar Town|Cougar Town]], [[User:Robotech Master/Down on the Farm|Down on the Farm]], [[User:Robotech Master/A Cougar Comes to Town|A Cougar Comes to Town]], [[User:Robotech Master/Play the Game Tonight|Play the Game Tonight]] 
12/22/19 [[User:Robotech Master/First Deployment|First Deployment]] 

==2020==
06/17/20 [[User:Hawl/Intended Side-Effects]]

User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet

2021-02-24T07:48:29Z

Claude LeChat: Further improved categories.

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Aquatic]]

{{title
|name=Parole Planet
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11539783/ from FurAffinity]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

{{dropcap|T}}he teenager stood in the middle of the road, shaking with both fear
and cold, his clothes barely adequate for a night in the mountains
even in late summer. Straight ahead, shiny eyes stared at him from the
pre-dawn gloom; a long, low building blocked his way to the right, and
the forest to the left was darker than his darkest dreams. But it was
what lay behind him that scared him the most: the castle wall with its
open gate, a patch of light in which floated robed and hooded
silhouettes. He was trapped, and it was his own damned fault too.

----

He had jumped at the chance, of course. What teenager would pass up
the opportunity to visit another planet? Especially now that the magic
of hyperdrive had cut down the trip to no more than a few weeks. And
his father had money; it wasn't like they were going to travel packed
like sardines in economy class.

There were plenty of reasons for people to travel between Earth and
its extra-solar colonies: tourism, science, cultural exchanges,
visiting relatives or simply emigration. The boy's father had yet
another. Common wisdom maintained that there was no way to make
interstellar commerce profitable -- basically anything you could
manufacture, you could manufacture in any star system. And if any man
could prove everyone wrong, that was the most illustrious business
administrator in the world. So, after the extensive research that was
his modus operandi, he had loaded his son and wife on a starliner
bound for Mir. It was going to be a long stay.

Now, Mir wasn't just any colony; one of the original three founded
before faster than light travel had become possible, it was also one
founded on the ideal of freely embraced cooperation, and it showed.
Even NuShan, the oldest and most straight-laced polity on the planet,
was a libertarian paradise compared to Western Europe, something the
teenager's new friends insisted on demonstrating.

Oh, it had been exhilarating to climb on top of the city's geodesic
dome -- useless now that the terraforming process was in its final
stage -- and the police hadn't even seem very angry when they brought
everyone back down. A mad speeder race around the base of the same
dome had resulted in a mere warning when it turned out nobody had
actually been hurt in the multiple collisions. But he should have
known they were pushing their luck when the little island they had
discovered right off the coast turned out to house a disused military
base. The explosion of whatever was left in those fuel tanks had
nearly sunk several boats and downed an unlucky tourist shuttle.

At least he had been alive to hear the dreaded words: "Patrick Lee
El-Sabra, you are under arrest for trespassing, destruction and
criminal negligence."

Oh, his father's influence had been enough to ensure a discreet and
speedy trial. But the sentence was another story. Patrick had been in
a daze as the judge announced his decision: five years in a work camp
on the yet unpopulated eastern subcontinent. Five years?! His parents
were going to be on Mir for six months! His ears were buzzing; he saw
his father's Mirian partner conferring with the judge, and when the
latter asked him something about accepting a deal, the boy nodded
automatically, head swimming.

The same night, a small police suborbital dropped him on a small
plateau, high in what his mobile indicated as the MonShaar mountains,
about six timezones to the west. He looked up... up at the fortress
that seemed to grow out of sheer rock, and his heart sank. A gate
opened, through which people in uniform-like robes filed out to meet
Patrick's escort. They led him in with few words; his father had been
too tired to come, as for his mother, she had refused to even see him
since the arrest. For the first time in his life, the boy was alone.

----

Patrick stood in the middle of the road clutching his little backpack,
while above him Mir's distant moons paled. No, not moons, he corrected
himself; *siblings*. His feet were freezing on the cobblestones, but
he didn't dare move: from further down the road, half a dozen huge
dogs watched him. On the right was a kind of long house, with a
high-pitched roof and a porch all along its side. From the left
drifted in the smell of pine needles and the call of an owl. And...
there was someone there, too.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a feminine shape peeled off from
the shadows and came very close to him. She was about his age, with
short slick hair and big eyes, wearing a necklace made of tiny daggers
over a rough, airy tunic and matching skirt. She carried a heavy
cleaver in a hand with thick, pointed fingernails, and her sandal-clad
feet sported toes that were unusually long... and webbed. Her eyebrows
were nearly invisible; her nostrils, he realized, could close.

Then she grinned, revealing two rows of small pointy teeth.

"Come with me if you want to live," she said.

He turned. The suborbital was just taking off again, its positioning
lights shooting off into the sky, and the robed people were coming
their way, faces still hidden. The girl turned on her heels and ran
into the forest, Patrick stumbling and tripping after her like a puppy.

----

It was a chalet build on sloping terrain, under a cliff that loomed
darkly over the treetops. The light was still growing when the girl
led Patrick in through a side door, directly into a kitchen adjoining
a small dining room. The floor was cement, and exposed pipes coiled
around each other like ugly snakes just waiting for him to come close.

"So... what's your name?" he asked, dropping his backpack on a chair.
"What is this place?" He ducked under a low beam in the nick of time.
The aroma of fresh vegetables reached his nostrils, and his stomach
growled. "What's for breakfast?"

She swirled and poked him in the chest with the cleaver. "You are, if
you keep asking stupid questions. Now shut up and help me with these."

He took a step back, then another. One more, and he bumped into a wall
that hadn't been there on the way in.

It was a young man, about as tall and wide as the door leading deeper
into the house, dressed similarly to the girl and with random patches
of skin on the left side of his body covered in big, golden reptilian
scales.

"Caught yourself a new one, Carmen?" he asked in a deep voice. "Kinda
scrawny." He towered over Patrick, staring down into the boy's eyes.
"You do what she says. I'm Naran, by the way."

"P... Rick," stammered the teenager and tiptoed back to Carmen's side.
"Tell me what to do," he said meekly.

----

He had expected to peel potatoes for hours, but it turned out there
was in fact an autocook -- a clunky contraption that filled a corner
of the kitchen, looking more Art Deco than interstellar age, complete
with blinkenlights and puffs of steam, like a mechanical idol waiting
to be fed. More people came in while Patrick cleaned up. A short,
hairy guy growled at him and went straight for the coffee pot. Then
twin younger boys with shaven heads, brightly colored tunics
contrasting with their brown skin, stopped in the door, oblivious to
his presence.

"I have got to finish the machine by tomorrow," whispered the one on
the left, "or Master Rune will have my skin for sure."

"Fat chance," retorted the other, "you would need a blood sacrifice."

"That can be arranged. You know that black rooster who has it in for
me?"

They clamped up and peered suspiciously at Patrick, then shuffled off
to the far corner of the room, leaving him to sweat. He was almost
done when the outside door slammed open and three cloaked figures
entered. The new girls all had their hair in a different color, but
the same bluish complexion to their skin, and a circuit-like network
of silvery lines tattooed on their forearms, with a metallic sheen to
it. The teenager blinked. Were they... cyborgs? But the practice was
banned... surely on any civilized world?

"New guy," chuckled the first one.

"Yesss..." added the second.

"I'm hungry," stated the third. Right on cue, the autocook opened its
iron maw, letting out a hiss and a blast of heat.

----

To his mild surprise, Patrick was still alive an hour later. Well fed,
too. He even knew the names of everyone in the room, and it hadn't
driven him insane. Yet.

Across the table from him, Carmen set her chopsticks on a paper towel.

"All right. The first order of business for today is to get Rick here
a place to sleep. We're going to reopen the old cabin over by the
stream -- this hovel is packed to the rafters already."

The hairy guy grumbled, and Carmen shot him a look that could saw
bones. "Unless you want to bunk with me?" He squeaked and shrunk even
smaller than he already was.

Like any disused building, the cabin in question had accumulated
thick layers of dust, cobwebs and clutter. It was almost noon before
Patrick could sit on a boulder, muscles trembling from the effort.
No, not noon, he remembered; mid-morning. He still wasn't used to the
length of the Mirian day. The stream gurgled happily at his feet,
catching the sunlight that filtered through the trees and throwing it
back into his eyes. Off in the distance, he could hear the sound of
a waterfall... and footsteps.

Naran sat heavily on the ground next to him. "Can I ask you a
question?"

The teenager nodded briskly.

"You're from off-world." It wasn't a question. "Let me guess, Earth?"

"H... how do you know?"

The giant pinched his biceps. "Hardly any muscle on you. Lower gravity
and all that."

"O... okay. Yes, it's true."

Naran nodded. "So, how did you end up here? You're a long way from
home."

"I... er..." What was he supposed to say? I nearly killed scores of
innocents? The words stuck in his throat. "I don't even know what
'here' is..." he managed to say.

"You don't?!" Naran scratched his head. "Well, we call it..."

He cut off. Someone was coming towards them from the other side of the
stream, dressed in a robe that was equal parts monk's cloth, military
uniform and badass longcoat, with a hood draped over his back. Patrick
watched frozenly as the newcomer crossed the water on a log no wider
than his foot without even slowing down.

It was a man, resembling an angel from a Renaissance painting, only
less androgynous and with deep lines on his otherwise youthful face.
Naran stood up as he approached. "Master Rune," he greeted.

The man nodded in response and looked at Patrick. The giant took the
hint and walked back towards the cabin with big heavy steps.

"How are you holding up, Patrick?"

The teenager stood up, wringing his hands. "I... didn't have time to
think about it."

"Good. That was the idea." The man smiled. "Called your parents yet?"

"I... I can do that?"

"Of course. You still have your mobile, don't you?"

Patrick patted his pocket instinctively and nodded.

"Look, I don't know how much they told you over in NuShan, but this
isn't a prison."

The boy didn't say anything.

"No, seriously." Master Rune pointed with a thumb back over his
shoulder. "You can walk right out that gate and no-one will try to
stop you."

"And the next thing I know, they put me in work camp for violating my
parole," Patrick said bitterly. "Gee, thanks. I feel so free right
now."

"Oh? And what are we supposed to do?" asked the older man mildly.

"I don't know... refuse to take part in this masquerade?"

"And let you toil for five long years out in the wastes?" He cocked
his head, as if listening to a distant call. "I'm needed elsewhere.
But my door is open if you want to talk."

He went back across the stream in a hurry.

"Hey!" Patrick yelled after him. "What is this place anyway?" But the
man had already vanished among the trees. The teenager sighed and
turned back towards the cabin, only to find himself staring into
Carmen's grin.

"Break's over," she said, and led the way.

----

The call animation stayed on screen for a long time.

"Patrick," his father said abruptly the moment he picked up. He looked
really, really tired. And sad.

"Hi, dad."

"How... how are you? Is there anything you need? I'm sorry, I should
have..."

"Never mind, dad. How is mom?"

"She'll forgive you."

They looked at each other in silence for a long while.

"Listen, son... I talked to our lawyer. The authorities might agree to
let you go free after just one year."

The Mirian year was four hundred days long, minus some change. Not
that the difference mattered much at this point.

"So? You'll only be here for half that long."

"No. We're extending our stay. It's better for the new business
anyway."

"Really? That's... thanks, dad." He touched the little screen with a
few fingers, and his father did the same on his side. There was more
silence.

"Patrick... take care. We'll come visit as soon as we can."

The teenager nodded. "Thanks, dad. Tell mom I love her."

"I will."

Click.

Patrick looked at the sun that was now leaning westwards, and got up
from the little cabin's porch. It was very, very quiet, and he needed
to be around someone... anyone.

----

Between the stream and the impassable cliffs at the back of the
natural fortification there was a relatively flat stretch of land,
with rare trees and tall grass. Behind a disused shed were strewn worn
out pieces of carved stone. A few looked disquetingly like funerary
monuments. Patrick passed by them as fast as he could, and that was
when he noticed the small clearing.

It was no more than ten meters across, bathed in sunlight and with the
grass all trampled around the hideous machine in the center. Spindly
articulated legs supported a metal frame inside which gears turned
hypnotically. Pedipalp-like limbs moved up and down with the grinding
tick-tock noise, but otherwise there was no sign anyone was there.
Morbid fascination pushed Patrick forward; as there was no reaction,
he leaned closer to better examine the back of the machine, where
several dials and hands turned, slowly but inexorably converging
towards some mysterious alignment. At the highest point of the frame,
an urn held a reddish liquid which dripped through a maze of channels
that reached all the moving parts, before collecting in a tray at the
bottom. There was a pit under the mechanism, and Patrick leaned just
a little further.

"Now, what in the world should we do with you?" asked a youthful voice.
It was the twins, standing between him and the relative safety of the
forest with serious faces.

"You have found our secret. This cannot be," added the other brother.

"Now you will have to join us."

"If Master Rune allows it."

Patrick blanched. "You... you're kidding, right?"

"Oh no," said the older man, coming from behind to stand in front of
him, hands on his hips. "They are quite serious."

The teenager felt dizzy all of a sudden, and then he was kneeling in
the grass, the twins laughing their heads off in stereo.

----

"You remind me of a very good friend," Rune began. "He was also from
Earth, and afraid of everything. The retreat wasn't even as scary back
then, but still he cried for days after he arrived."

They were sitting on a bench not far from the gate, watching what
seemed to be a martial arts lesson right where the road bent around
the longhouse. Patrick noted that every master's robe was in fact
different. One of the dogs ventured by, tail wagging slowly, and Rune
petted him. After some hesitation, the teenager did, too.

"So... why didn't he just leave?" he asked.

"He was a refugee from the Second Corporate War. Nothing to go back to,
no ship to take him there... He had literally nowhere to go. Stuck
here, just like you are now."

"It's not the same thing!"

"Isn't it? If he couldn't leave any more than you can, was he any less
of a prisoner?"

Patrick fell silent for a while. "What happened to him?"

"Well, in the end he came to terms with himself. Learned enough skills
to go out into the world, and never looked back." The older man sighed.

"What kind of skills?" The boy looked meaningfully towards the open
air class.

"Carmen still hasn't told you? I swear, that girl... Anyway, we're
Dhiira. It means wise, learned, steadfast, brave -- all the ideals to
which we aspire."

"You're warrior-monks." Patrick snapped his fingers. "I've read about
that on the 'net. Should've guessed."

The master chuckled. "Most people see us that way, yes. But what we
really are is *hackers*."

"Hackers? Isn't that, like, illegal?"

"Hrm. Only on Earth, Patrick. But even here, most people don't like
being reminded how fragile their world really is. So we've learned to
mostly stay away from society unless society asks for our help."

The teenager nodded. "Don't you feel lonely?"

"Sometimes, a little." Master Rune smiled. "But now you're here."

Patrick stared at him in surprise. The setting sun gave the older
man's face a golden sheen. "Oh no! It's almost dinner time! Carmen
will have me as the main course if I'm not there to help!"

He ran away among the trees, followed by a friendly gaze.

----

It took Patrick another week to give up his self-cleaning spandex for
an apprentice's tunic. But he wasn't even wearing as much while he sat
with Naran on a house-sized rock, watching Carmen dive into the little
waterfall's pool five meters below. To his mild disappointment, she
was wearing a fairly modest bathing suit -- and in all honesty, he was
grateful to have shorts on right now.

"So, what's the deal with her?" he asked the bigger boy.

"What do you mean?... Oh."

"Yeah, that. She's no alien -- there's no such thing as aliens -- but
she can't be human either... can she?"

"Think about it. She's a hacker. And nowadays we can tweak genes or
perform surgery from within with nanobots."

"So... she hacked her own body? But why? The whole reason we're on
another planet at all is that Homo Sapiens is flexible."

"Indeed. Jacks of all trades, masters of none. Sometimes that's more
constraining than liberating."

Carmen had resurfaced behind the curtain of water, and was swimming
back their way.

"I just wish I could hack her attitude as well." quipped Patrick.

"You and me both, pal. You and me both."

----

Autumn was coming by the time Patrick's parents made time to visit.

He waited for them outside the gate, dressed in the cloak younger
Dhiira usually wore away from the retreat. They weren't as cool as
a master's robe, but the latter created much higher expectations. As
it was, the farmers down in the valley were always happy to see them,
and so were the unfortunates stuck with guard duty at that military
listening post nobody was supposed to know about. After all, it was
only reachable from the air. Unless you were Dhiira, that is.

Movement among the trees made him alert. A steel scarab trundled up
the sweeping curves of the road, regularly going in and out of view.
With its eight independent wheels, the truck could have ignored the
road entirely, but today it had passengers. Patrick wondered why his
parents hadn't simply chartered a suborbital. Maybe they wanted to
visit the nearby metropolis of ValShaar while they were in the area.
He certainly understood the attraction, but the terms of his parole
didn't allow him to go that far even with supervision.

His had been a small world as of late, and he could only spend so much
time online until that, too, became trite.

The visitor helped his wife climb down from the cab, and they stood
aside for a moment, wind howling around them, while the truck eased in
through the gate. Someone was coming to meet them, a local by all
appearances, strong sunburnt arms covered in cuts and scrapes. He took
off his hood as they turned to face him.

"Mom, dad," said Patrick simply.

"Hello, Patrick," his father greeted. His mother didn't say anything.

The teenager examined them lovingly. They seemed older than last time
he had seen them, and shorter too. His father had on one of his usual
business suits which looked so quaint here on Mir. As for his mother,
her attire amounted to grieving clothes.

And then she was smothering him with hugs, sobbing loudly. "My boy!
What have they done to you?"

He squeezed her awkwardly. "Mom... mom? I'm *fine*. Look at me!"

"I think your mother is trying to say that you've changed, son."

Patrick wiped a tear of his own. "So have you. Come inside, it's going
to rain."

Several dogs gathered around them on the way in, sniffing and snorting,
until the teenager called each of them by name and rubbed their ears.

----

"What a dump," muttered Patrick's mother as they sat down in the
chalet's cramped dining room, bowls of hot soup steaming on the table.
"I've seen better equipped prisons."

"Good thing Carmen isn't around to hear you."

"Who?"

"Never mind. How've you been? Dad never tells me anything on video."

His father coughed. "Where is everyone, anyway? Are we even supposed
to be here?"

"They're busy giving us personal space.", Patrick grinned. "And it's
highly irregular, but that's exactly how we like things around here."

"We?" His mother peered at him suspiciously.

The teenager choked. "Uh... anyway, how's business?"

"Bad." His father's mood darkened. "Tensions have been rising between
Mir and Earth. People on both sides are afraid to trade with each
other." He sighed. "Between legal expenses and plain old losses, we're
really strapped for cash now."

"I'm so sorry..." Patrick whispered, staring at his boots.

"Well, it can't be helped. Eat your soup, it's going cold."

He focused on his bowl, and didn't seem to notice when his wife pulled
their son into the adjoining kitchen.

"What is it, mom?"

"I know my boy. You would never complain to your father. But I made
friends of my own in NuShan these past few months. Whatever you need,
I can pull strings for it. You can tell your mother."

Patrick's shoulder's slumped. For a moment, it looked like he would
cry again. "All I want is to go home..."

She hugged him tight and didn't say another word until he led them
back to the truck a few hours later.

----

Carmen was arguing with the little hippie again.

At least Patrick assumed that was the look Robert was aiming for, with
his big hair and torn clothes, but as the girl bluntly put it, the end
result was closer to a caveman. Especially with his short, stout body.

"Why do I have to work? We have machines to cook for us, clean after
us, build homes for us! Why should I have to lift a finger?" he roared,
stomping his foot.

"And how do you propose to put food into the autocook?"

"I could build a machine for that too."

"So, build one."

"That would be more work," grumbled Robert.

A few meters away, Patrick loaded one last shovel of rubble into a
mulebot about as big as a pair of oxen and tapped its hood twice.
The machine awoke and tromped away through the forest, flashing its
headlights. The retreat had been growing in population lately, and
older structures had to be torn down to balance out the new ones.
Increasing the land area was not an option. Worse, the whole thing
had to be done before the first snow, and the retreat's handful of
construction robots were more needed elsewhere.

He set the shovel aside, wiping his forehead as he walked towards the
rest of the group.

"We work because there's work to be done, Robert," he said. "Or do you
want to live like an animal?"

"Nobody asked you, *convict*!" snarled the hippie.

There was a stunned silence. They all knew, of course. Had known ever
since a miscalculation trapped them in a small grotto higher up the
mountain, while the mother of a storm raged outside. They had never
seen him with the same eyes again, but none of them had been so rude
about it.

"That's right," answered Patrick quietly. "I'm a convict. I'm forced
to live here. What's your excuse?"

"I've been wondering myself," said Luna. Or maybe Venus. The three
cyborg sisters talked the same and walked the same. "You don't like
us, you don't like it here... no offense, but maybe you should just,
you know."

Robert glowered at each of them in turn, then slumped to the ground.
"I can't," he groaned. "I lied to my parents. Didn't want to go to
college, you see."

"That's your problem?" asked Naran incredulously. "Why don't you talk
to Master Rune about it?"

"Are you kidding? He'd throw me out on my ear!"

"No he wouldn't. Now, Master Shing on the other hand just might."

Robert wailed.

"You're wasting your time, Naran," fumed Carmen. Clanking steps were
signaling the return of the mulebot. "Let him sit there if that's what
he wants." She grabbed a sledgehammer and headed back to the
demolished building. The others followed her one by one. Robert sat
alone for a while, then got up and joined them.

----

The rising sun hadn't yet reached the rocky crags surrounding the
retreat, but the fresh snow on the slopes already shone brilliantly.
A bird, barely visible against the sky, swooped down among the naked
tree trunks in absolute silence. The only other movement was a telecom
laser tracking something unseen from the roof of a chalet, which it
shared with a small weather station and other paraphernalia.

Then something stirred in the shadow of the first story balcony.
A shovel dropped into the snowdrift below, followed by someone in
a billowing gray cloak. Patrick picked himself up from the hole he
had made and proceeded to remove the build-up against the ground
floor wall, muttering choice words about whoever had the bright idea
to place a door facing the prevailing winds.

He was breathing heavily by the time he got the door to open, exhaling
miniature clouds into the morning air. He checked the wrist computer
he had built around what was left of his mobile after that training
accident; Sister Thetys' electronics lessons had paid off. "Truck's
already in!" he said to nobody in particular, eyeing the barely
visible road in the distance. The forest trail leading there was
covered in knee-high snow, but a row of wooden poles spaced about an
arm length apart still poked out, their flat tops swept clean by the
night's wind. The young man chuckled inwardly, remembering how he used
to puzzle over their purpose. Now he jumped on top of the first pole
and easily ran down the slope, using them for a staircase.

The truck was in all right, painted red to stand out in the snowy
landscape and with a new snowthrower attachment at the front. People
milled about it, while hydraulic arms loaded and unloaded robotic
carts. Patrick cut through the crowd, aiming for the porch of the
longhouse. His parents made a point of meeting his guardians on each
visit, and there weren't many places where they could do that.

Master Shing got up as Patrick entered the small lounge. He was
a small man with a round face and a severe expression, who moved
precisely and with purpose.

"We'll leave you, then," he told the visitors.

"Once again, thank you for taking care of our son."

Master Shing bowed his head. "I was opposed to his staying here
initially. I was wrong." He walked out the door, followed by a quiet
Rune, who stopped for a moment to pat the young man's shoulder with a
faint smile.

"That's high praise coming from him, you know," said Patrick as he
crossed the room. He stopped to check out the kettle on the stovetop.
"Mulled wine, mmm."

"You seem well at ease here," quipped his mother.

"Might as well, mom. I have another half a year before I can go home."
He slumped in a chair, holding his mug. "Who am I kidding? The judge
will probably change his mind at the last moment."

"I promise you'll walk free on schedule," his father said. "That's
the good news."

"What do you mean?"

"It's my other promise to you I can't keep, son." He sighed. "We're
out of money."

Patrick understood. "You have to return home early after all."

"We'll be back for you. In half a year."

"I'll live." The young man drank from his mug. "I'll live..."

The lounge was quiet for a while, apart from the buzzing of appliances
and the activity right outside the door.

"So," he asked, "what's the latest gossip? Any news from back home?"

----

People fear and hate technology. Even as they enjoy all the comforts
of modern life, they demonize the source of those comforts. See, you
can't blame the hammer when you hit your finger with it. Or the nail,
bad luck, somebody else... A tool forces you to take responsibility
for your own actions, and most people fear responsibility more than
death. Worse, proper use of a tool requires you to know how things
work, and learning about the world around them scares people even more,
if anything. So somewhere along the line, telling people to learn the
first thing about the stuff that makes their lives so easy has become
socially unacceptable. Engineers have been forced to make technology
ever more unobtrusive, to the point of blending invisibly into
everyday items. Out of sight, out of mind.

Which of course only makes people increasingly helpless when something
inevitably goes wrong.

Patrick could see the superstitious respect in the farmer's eyes as
he watched the Dhiira at work. He was the resident mechanic, but that
meant little more than a technician who could ask the computer for a
diagnostic and follow the instructions. If the machine couldn't give
him a clear series of steps to follow, he was lost. And in all honesty,
the young man could remember a time less than a year ago when he even
relied on the speeder to call the emergency services by itself if it
broke down. Peeking under the hood was part of a secret ritual
reserved for the manufacturer's priesthood. Dealerships as temples...

Sister Luna stood off to a side, looking dignified in her cloak, which
was more ornate than his to show higher rank. It was strictly for show,
of course, but the rest of the world didn't need to know that. She
also had fingerless gloves on, elbow-length to mask her tattoos and
covered in interlocking bits of metal and plastic.

"Try it now!" he said as he crawled out of the micro-jungle in the
hardware cabinet and recovered his own cloak.

In response, she raised a hand and the imposing computer console
nearby sprung to life, windows with scrolling text popping into and
out of existence all over the panoramic monitor. Beyond the bay
windows behind it, the vast glasshouse was awakening, lights coming on
as drones took to the air, sprinklers started up and bridge cranes
whirred into motion.

"Do us a favor," Patrick told the stunned farmer. "When they come for
the spring revision? Don't tell them it was us."

The man nodded, and that's when Luna grabbed Patrick's arm. "Look."
It was hard to see with all the plant life, but outside the building
people were running.

"Something's wrong," he answered, and they all but flew down the
stairs. Behind them, the mechanic scratched his head and sat down to
watch his miraculously revived machinery.

----

The bridge over the river was a thing of beauty, with sweeping arches
made of transparent materials, which made it blend into the landscape
like something out of a dream -- ghostly offspring of the surrounding
hills, perched high above the rapid waters.

It was also a century old by now, and likely under-maintained. Which
did not mesh well with the rapidly-melting snow from upstream making
the river swell to several times its normal flow.

By the time Patrick got there, the ends of the bridge had already
collapsed, trapping two little children on the better-supported middle
section. One of the farmers, secured with a cable, was inching along
a surviving support beam towards them, while a dozen others watched.

Then that beam gave up as well, throwing the rescuer against the
riverbank, while the kids slid off the suddenly leaning bridge and
into the frothing water. Somehow, one of them managed to grab a rock,
and they held on for dear life while the crowd above stared in horror.

"Somebody jump after them!" shouted a thick masculine voice.

"Are you nuts?" replied a similar one. "Nobody can survive for long
down there!"

"I can," said Carmen, a haunted look in her eyes. Nobody had seen her
coming, and they didn't make a move while she took off most of her
clothes. She dove just as the little boy lost his grip and disappeared
under the waves along with his sister.

Naran was running towards the group with a second roll of cable.

"The other bridge!" Patrick shouted at him. "Past the bend!" and ran
that way along with everyone else.

"I saw her jump," puffed Naran while he dropped an end of the cable
into the water and wrapped it around a guardrail. The second bridge
was smaller, but that meant it never needed to touch the water. "If
we don't catch them here..."

"How do you know they'll be able to grab that thing?" asked Patrick.

"They won't be." The giant handed him the rest of the cable. "Hang on
to this."

"What... Wait. I can't hold that much weight!"

"But I can," somebody said behind them. It was a middle-aged woman in
coveralls, almost as big as Naran, with a square face and sandy hair
tied in a bun. She wrapped the cable around one of her arms and
motioned Patrick to do the same. "We've got your back, young man."

The giant nodded, then with a single motion wrapped the dangling part
of the cable around his own body before easing himself down alongside
it, head first, using his legs for traction. Foam whirled around his
outstretched fingers, while the river roared between its banks. For a
long moment, he thought it was in fact too late.

Clawed hands emerged from the madness below, one grabbing his wrist,
the other grasping for the cable. It took all his strength not to let
go when Carmen pulled herself up, the two children clinging to her.
But he held on while half a dozen people hoisted all of them back up.

The girl was still hugging the kids while they huddled together on
solid ground, shivering and coughing.

"What's she saying?" somebody asked from the crowd, and Patrick leaned
down to better hear what she was murmuring through clenched teeth.

"I've got you this time, baby. I've got you this time..."

----

It had been a tumultous spring, and news from Earth only added fuel to
the fire. First there had been that diplomatic incident involving the
World Council ambassador to the Mirian union of city states. (Patrick
still had trouble wrapping his head around the local political system.)
Then rumors that the same World Council had been taken over by the
North Pacific powers. After that, communications had become spotty.
Patrick's videos remained unanswered, save for one message from his
parents that had been edited to pieces.

The retreat was changing as well. Robert had been gone since winter,
of course, but now Carmen was leaving as well, on a long pilgrimage to
her home in the Harra mountains. One of the new apprentices, barely
a year younger than Patrick, was looking up to him with admiration
normally given a father figure, which was a bit much for someone who
wouldn't even have been considered an adult back home. But this was
another world...

Compared to that, summer had dragged on like a snail laboring up a
well-polished slide. Against all odds, life was struggling to settle
into a new normal. And that made Patrick afraid all over again. Why
was it sometimes so hard to remember what came before?

He was standing outside the gate one early morning, like so many times
in recent months, while the twins' astronomical clock tick-tocked the
seconds away from its niche in the wall above. The twins themselves
had long moved on to other hobbies. Knowing them, it was something
equally outrageous, such as building a practical transforming mecha --
the eternal chimera of engineering.

Behind him there was a barely audible shuffling noise. "Good morning,
Master Rune," he said without turning.

"Good morning, Patrick." He hesitated. "The judge's office just called.
You're officially free to go."

The young man nodded. "And they couldn't come. So much for promises."

"Who knows what's keeping them..."

"Starliners are never late," Patrick interrupted. "It doesn't work
that way."

"We'll call the spaceport. Worst case, we'll all chip in for your
return ticket."

"My father's partner took care of that. Besides, you've done so much
for me already."

"It's what we do, Patrick. Helping people in need. And you've earned
all of it."

Embarassed silence descended between them. But it didn't last long.

Shouting and running broke the peace of the retreat, echoing through
the gate tunnel behind them. Rune raised his eyebrows and turned to
head back in. He was stopped by a hand waved from a second story
window.

"Hey! Hey! Tune in on the news."

"Which channel?" Patrick shouted back.

"Any channel!"

They spent longer than necessary leaning together over the small
screen, flipping through channels and bringing up searches.

"Broken diplomatic relations... Closed borders..." Rune groaned. "That
means war is imminent."

"Will you go?"

"Many of us will. Our abilities will be needed. Not on the front lines,
mind you. I'm too old for that kind of thing anyway."

Patrick took a few faltering steps before his knees felt too weak, and
he slid to the ground, leaning against the massive stone wall.

"All I wanted was to go home... Was it so much to ask?"

"Your father's partner can take care of you. Failing that, there's a
support center for off-world immigrants down in..."

"What's the *point*?" Patrick raged. "B... besides... once you're gone,
someone will have to stay behind and hold the fort."

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight back tears. It didn't work.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 29 August 2013}}

User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet

2021-02-24T07:09:02Z

Claude LeChat: Improved categories.

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Human]] [[Category:Aquatic]] [[Category:Identity Change]]

{{title
|name=Parole Planet
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11539783/ from FurAffinity]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

{{dropcap|T}}he teenager stood in the middle of the road, shaking with both fear
and cold, his clothes barely adequate for a night in the mountains
even in late summer. Straight ahead, shiny eyes stared at him from the
pre-dawn gloom; a long, low building blocked his way to the right, and
the forest to the left was darker than his darkest dreams. But it was
what lay behind him that scared him the most: the castle wall with its
open gate, a patch of light in which floated robed and hooded
silhouettes. He was trapped, and it was his own damned fault too.

----

He had jumped at the chance, of course. What teenager would pass up
the opportunity to visit another planet? Especially now that the magic
of hyperdrive had cut down the trip to no more than a few weeks. And
his father had money; it wasn't like they were going to travel packed
like sardines in economy class.

There were plenty of reasons for people to travel between Earth and
its extra-solar colonies: tourism, science, cultural exchanges,
visiting relatives or simply emigration. The boy's father had yet
another. Common wisdom maintained that there was no way to make
interstellar commerce profitable -- basically anything you could
manufacture, you could manufacture in any star system. And if any man
could prove everyone wrong, that was the most illustrious business
administrator in the world. So, after the extensive research that was
his modus operandi, he had loaded his son and wife on a starliner
bound for Mir. It was going to be a long stay.

Now, Mir wasn't just any colony; one of the original three founded
before faster than light travel had become possible, it was also one
founded on the ideal of freely embraced cooperation, and it showed.
Even NuShan, the oldest and most straight-laced polity on the planet,
was a libertarian paradise compared to Western Europe, something the
teenager's new friends insisted on demonstrating.

Oh, it had been exhilarating to climb on top of the city's geodesic
dome -- useless now that the terraforming process was in its final
stage -- and the police hadn't even seem very angry when they brought
everyone back down. A mad speeder race around the base of the same
dome had resulted in a mere warning when it turned out nobody had
actually been hurt in the multiple collisions. But he should have
known they were pushing their luck when the little island they had
discovered right off the coast turned out to house a disused military
base. The explosion of whatever was left in those fuel tanks had
nearly sunk several boats and downed an unlucky tourist shuttle.

At least he had been alive to hear the dreaded words: "Patrick Lee
El-Sabra, you are under arrest for trespassing, destruction and
criminal negligence."

Oh, his father's influence had been enough to ensure a discreet and
speedy trial. But the sentence was another story. Patrick had been in
a daze as the judge announced his decision: five years in a work camp
on the yet unpopulated eastern subcontinent. Five years?! His parents
were going to be on Mir for six months! His ears were buzzing; he saw
his father's Mirian partner conferring with the judge, and when the
latter asked him something about accepting a deal, the boy nodded
automatically, head swimming.

The same night, a small police suborbital dropped him on a small
plateau, high in what his mobile indicated as the MonShaar mountains,
about six timezones to the west. He looked up... up at the fortress
that seemed to grow out of sheer rock, and his heart sank. A gate
opened, through which people in uniform-like robes filed out to meet
Patrick's escort. They led him in with few words; his father had been
too tired to come, as for his mother, she had refused to even see him
since the arrest. For the first time in his life, the boy was alone.

----

Patrick stood in the middle of the road clutching his little backpack,
while above him Mir's distant moons paled. No, not moons, he corrected
himself; *siblings*. His feet were freezing on the cobblestones, but
he didn't dare move: from further down the road, half a dozen huge
dogs watched him. On the right was a kind of long house, with a
high-pitched roof and a porch all along its side. From the left
drifted in the smell of pine needles and the call of an owl. And...
there was someone there, too.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a feminine shape peeled off from
the shadows and came very close to him. She was about his age, with
short slick hair and big eyes, wearing a necklace made of tiny daggers
over a rough, airy tunic and matching skirt. She carried a heavy
cleaver in a hand with thick, pointed fingernails, and her sandal-clad
feet sported toes that were unusually long... and webbed. Her eyebrows
were nearly invisible; her nostrils, he realized, could close.

Then she grinned, revealing two rows of small pointy teeth.

"Come with me if you want to live," she said.

He turned. The suborbital was just taking off again, its positioning
lights shooting off into the sky, and the robed people were coming
their way, faces still hidden. The girl turned on her heels and ran
into the forest, Patrick stumbling and tripping after her like a puppy.

----

It was a chalet build on sloping terrain, under a cliff that loomed
darkly over the treetops. The light was still growing when the girl
led Patrick in through a side door, directly into a kitchen adjoining
a small dining room. The floor was cement, and exposed pipes coiled
around each other like ugly snakes just waiting for him to come close.

"So... what's your name?" he asked, dropping his backpack on a chair.
"What is this place?" He ducked under a low beam in the nick of time.
The aroma of fresh vegetables reached his nostrils, and his stomach
growled. "What's for breakfast?"

She swirled and poked him in the chest with the cleaver. "You are, if
you keep asking stupid questions. Now shut up and help me with these."

He took a step back, then another. One more, and he bumped into a wall
that hadn't been there on the way in.

It was a young man, about as tall and wide as the door leading deeper
into the house, dressed similarly to the girl and with random patches
of skin on the left side of his body covered in big, golden reptilian
scales.

"Caught yourself a new one, Carmen?" he asked in a deep voice. "Kinda
scrawny." He towered over Patrick, staring down into the boy's eyes.
"You do what she says. I'm Naran, by the way."

"P... Rick," stammered the teenager and tiptoed back to Carmen's side.
"Tell me what to do," he said meekly.

----

He had expected to peel potatoes for hours, but it turned out there
was in fact an autocook -- a clunky contraption that filled a corner
of the kitchen, looking more Art Deco than interstellar age, complete
with blinkenlights and puffs of steam, like a mechanical idol waiting
to be fed. More people came in while Patrick cleaned up. A short,
hairy guy growled at him and went straight for the coffee pot. Then
twin younger boys with shaven heads, brightly colored tunics
contrasting with their brown skin, stopped in the door, oblivious to
his presence.

"I have got to finish the machine by tomorrow," whispered the one on
the left, "or Master Rune will have my skin for sure."

"Fat chance," retorted the other, "you would need a blood sacrifice."

"That can be arranged. You know that black rooster who has it in for
me?"

They clamped up and peered suspiciously at Patrick, then shuffled off
to the far corner of the room, leaving him to sweat. He was almost
done when the outside door slammed open and three cloaked figures
entered. The new girls all had their hair in a different color, but
the same bluish complexion to their skin, and a circuit-like network
of silvery lines tattooed on their forearms, with a metallic sheen to
it. The teenager blinked. Were they... cyborgs? But the practice was
banned... surely on any civilized world?

"New guy," chuckled the first one.

"Yesss..." added the second.

"I'm hungry," stated the third. Right on cue, the autocook opened its
iron maw, letting out a hiss and a blast of heat.

----

To his mild surprise, Patrick was still alive an hour later. Well fed,
too. He even knew the names of everyone in the room, and it hadn't
driven him insane. Yet.

Across the table from him, Carmen set her chopsticks on a paper towel.

"All right. The first order of business for today is to get Rick here
a place to sleep. We're going to reopen the old cabin over by the
stream -- this hovel is packed to the rafters already."

The hairy guy grumbled, and Carmen shot him a look that could saw
bones. "Unless you want to bunk with me?" He squeaked and shrunk even
smaller than he already was.

Like any disused building, the cabin in question had accumulated
thick layers of dust, cobwebs and clutter. It was almost noon before
Patrick could sit on a boulder, muscles trembling from the effort.
No, not noon, he remembered; mid-morning. He still wasn't used to the
length of the Mirian day. The stream gurgled happily at his feet,
catching the sunlight that filtered through the trees and throwing it
back into his eyes. Off in the distance, he could hear the sound of
a waterfall... and footsteps.

Naran sat heavily on the ground next to him. "Can I ask you a
question?"

The teenager nodded briskly.

"You're from off-world." It wasn't a question. "Let me guess, Earth?"

"H... how do you know?"

The giant pinched his biceps. "Hardly any muscle on you. Lower gravity
and all that."

"O... okay. Yes, it's true."

Naran nodded. "So, how did you end up here? You're a long way from
home."

"I... er..." What was he supposed to say? I nearly killed scores of
innocents? The words stuck in his throat. "I don't even know what
'here' is..." he managed to say.

"You don't?!" Naran scratched his head. "Well, we call it..."

He cut off. Someone was coming towards them from the other side of the
stream, dressed in a robe that was equal parts monk's cloth, military
uniform and badass longcoat, with a hood draped over his back. Patrick
watched frozenly as the newcomer crossed the water on a log no wider
than his foot without even slowing down.

It was a man, resembling an angel from a Renaissance painting, only
less androgynous and with deep lines on his otherwise youthful face.
Naran stood up as he approached. "Master Rune," he greeted.

The man nodded in response and looked at Patrick. The giant took the
hint and walked back towards the cabin with big heavy steps.

"How are you holding up, Patrick?"

The teenager stood up, wringing his hands. "I... didn't have time to
think about it."

"Good. That was the idea." The man smiled. "Called your parents yet?"

"I... I can do that?"

"Of course. You still have your mobile, don't you?"

Patrick patted his pocket instinctively and nodded.

"Look, I don't know how much they told you over in NuShan, but this
isn't a prison."

The boy didn't say anything.

"No, seriously." Master Rune pointed with a thumb back over his
shoulder. "You can walk right out that gate and no-one will try to
stop you."

"And the next thing I know, they put me in work camp for violating my
parole," Patrick said bitterly. "Gee, thanks. I feel so free right
now."

"Oh? And what are we supposed to do?" asked the older man mildly.

"I don't know... refuse to take part in this masquerade?"

"And let you toil for five long years out in the wastes?" He cocked
his head, as if listening to a distant call. "I'm needed elsewhere.
But my door is open if you want to talk."

He went back across the stream in a hurry.

"Hey!" Patrick yelled after him. "What is this place anyway?" But the
man had already vanished among the trees. The teenager sighed and
turned back towards the cabin, only to find himself staring into
Carmen's grin.

"Break's over," she said, and led the way.

----

The call animation stayed on screen for a long time.

"Patrick," his father said abruptly the moment he picked up. He looked
really, really tired. And sad.

"Hi, dad."

"How... how are you? Is there anything you need? I'm sorry, I should
have..."

"Never mind, dad. How is mom?"

"She'll forgive you."

They looked at each other in silence for a long while.

"Listen, son... I talked to our lawyer. The authorities might agree to
let you go free after just one year."

The Mirian year was four hundred days long, minus some change. Not
that the difference mattered much at this point.

"So? You'll only be here for half that long."

"No. We're extending our stay. It's better for the new business
anyway."

"Really? That's... thanks, dad." He touched the little screen with a
few fingers, and his father did the same on his side. There was more
silence.

"Patrick... take care. We'll come visit as soon as we can."

The teenager nodded. "Thanks, dad. Tell mom I love her."

"I will."

Click.

Patrick looked at the sun that was now leaning westwards, and got up
from the little cabin's porch. It was very, very quiet, and he needed
to be around someone... anyone.

----

Between the stream and the impassable cliffs at the back of the
natural fortification there was a relatively flat stretch of land,
with rare trees and tall grass. Behind a disused shed were strewn worn
out pieces of carved stone. A few looked disquetingly like funerary
monuments. Patrick passed by them as fast as he could, and that was
when he noticed the small clearing.

It was no more than ten meters across, bathed in sunlight and with the
grass all trampled around the hideous machine in the center. Spindly
articulated legs supported a metal frame inside which gears turned
hypnotically. Pedipalp-like limbs moved up and down with the grinding
tick-tock noise, but otherwise there was no sign anyone was there.
Morbid fascination pushed Patrick forward; as there was no reaction,
he leaned closer to better examine the back of the machine, where
several dials and hands turned, slowly but inexorably converging
towards some mysterious alignment. At the highest point of the frame,
an urn held a reddish liquid which dripped through a maze of channels
that reached all the moving parts, before collecting in a tray at the
bottom. There was a pit under the mechanism, and Patrick leaned just
a little further.

"Now, what in the world should we do with you?" asked a youthful voice.
It was the twins, standing between him and the relative safety of the
forest with serious faces.

"You have found our secret. This cannot be," added the other brother.

"Now you will have to join us."

"If Master Rune allows it."

Patrick blanched. "You... you're kidding, right?"

"Oh no," said the older man, coming from behind to stand in front of
him, hands on his hips. "They are quite serious."

The teenager felt dizzy all of a sudden, and then he was kneeling in
the grass, the twins laughing their heads off in stereo.

----

"You remind me of a very good friend," Rune began. "He was also from
Earth, and afraid of everything. The retreat wasn't even as scary back
then, but still he cried for days after he arrived."

They were sitting on a bench not far from the gate, watching what
seemed to be a martial arts lesson right where the road bent around
the longhouse. Patrick noted that every master's robe was in fact
different. One of the dogs ventured by, tail wagging slowly, and Rune
petted him. After some hesitation, the teenager did, too.

"So... why didn't he just leave?" he asked.

"He was a refugee from the Second Corporate War. Nothing to go back to,
no ship to take him there... He had literally nowhere to go. Stuck
here, just like you are now."

"It's not the same thing!"

"Isn't it? If he couldn't leave any more than you can, was he any less
of a prisoner?"

Patrick fell silent for a while. "What happened to him?"

"Well, in the end he came to terms with himself. Learned enough skills
to go out into the world, and never looked back." The older man sighed.

"What kind of skills?" The boy looked meaningfully towards the open
air class.

"Carmen still hasn't told you? I swear, that girl... Anyway, we're
Dhiira. It means wise, learned, steadfast, brave -- all the ideals to
which we aspire."

"You're warrior-monks." Patrick snapped his fingers. "I've read about
that on the 'net. Should've guessed."

The master chuckled. "Most people see us that way, yes. But what we
really are is *hackers*."

"Hackers? Isn't that, like, illegal?"

"Hrm. Only on Earth, Patrick. But even here, most people don't like
being reminded how fragile their world really is. So we've learned to
mostly stay away from society unless society asks for our help."

The teenager nodded. "Don't you feel lonely?"

"Sometimes, a little." Master Rune smiled. "But now you're here."

Patrick stared at him in surprise. The setting sun gave the older
man's face a golden sheen. "Oh no! It's almost dinner time! Carmen
will have me as the main course if I'm not there to help!"

He ran away among the trees, followed by a friendly gaze.

----

It took Patrick another week to give up his self-cleaning spandex for
an apprentice's tunic. But he wasn't even wearing as much while he sat
with Naran on a house-sized rock, watching Carmen dive into the little
waterfall's pool five meters below. To his mild disappointment, she
was wearing a fairly modest bathing suit -- and in all honesty, he was
grateful to have shorts on right now.

"So, what's the deal with her?" he asked the bigger boy.

"What do you mean?... Oh."

"Yeah, that. She's no alien -- there's no such thing as aliens -- but
she can't be human either... can she?"

"Think about it. She's a hacker. And nowadays we can tweak genes or
perform surgery from within with nanobots."

"So... she hacked her own body? But why? The whole reason we're on
another planet at all is that Homo Sapiens is flexible."

"Indeed. Jacks of all trades, masters of none. Sometimes that's more
constraining than liberating."

Carmen had resurfaced behind the curtain of water, and was swimming
back their way.

"I just wish I could hack her attitude as well." quipped Patrick.

"You and me both, pal. You and me both."

----

Autumn was coming by the time Patrick's parents made time to visit.

He waited for them outside the gate, dressed in the cloak younger
Dhiira usually wore away from the retreat. They weren't as cool as
a master's robe, but the latter created much higher expectations. As
it was, the farmers down in the valley were always happy to see them,
and so were the unfortunates stuck with guard duty at that military
listening post nobody was supposed to know about. After all, it was
only reachable from the air. Unless you were Dhiira, that is.

Movement among the trees made him alert. A steel scarab trundled up
the sweeping curves of the road, regularly going in and out of view.
With its eight independent wheels, the truck could have ignored the
road entirely, but today it had passengers. Patrick wondered why his
parents hadn't simply chartered a suborbital. Maybe they wanted to
visit the nearby metropolis of ValShaar while they were in the area.
He certainly understood the attraction, but the terms of his parole
didn't allow him to go that far even with supervision.

His had been a small world as of late, and he could only spend so much
time online until that, too, became trite.

The visitor helped his wife climb down from the cab, and they stood
aside for a moment, wind howling around them, while the truck eased in
through the gate. Someone was coming to meet them, a local by all
appearances, strong sunburnt arms covered in cuts and scrapes. He took
off his hood as they turned to face him.

"Mom, dad," said Patrick simply.

"Hello, Patrick," his father greeted. His mother didn't say anything.

The teenager examined them lovingly. They seemed older than last time
he had seen them, and shorter too. His father had on one of his usual
business suits which looked so quaint here on Mir. As for his mother,
her attire amounted to grieving clothes.

And then she was smothering him with hugs, sobbing loudly. "My boy!
What have they done to you?"

He squeezed her awkwardly. "Mom... mom? I'm *fine*. Look at me!"

"I think your mother is trying to say that you've changed, son."

Patrick wiped a tear of his own. "So have you. Come inside, it's going
to rain."

Several dogs gathered around them on the way in, sniffing and snorting,
until the teenager called each of them by name and rubbed their ears.

----

"What a dump," muttered Patrick's mother as they sat down in the
chalet's cramped dining room, bowls of hot soup steaming on the table.
"I've seen better equipped prisons."

"Good thing Carmen isn't around to hear you."

"Who?"

"Never mind. How've you been? Dad never tells me anything on video."

His father coughed. "Where is everyone, anyway? Are we even supposed
to be here?"

"They're busy giving us personal space.", Patrick grinned. "And it's
highly irregular, but that's exactly how we like things around here."

"We?" His mother peered at him suspiciously.

The teenager choked. "Uh... anyway, how's business?"

"Bad." His father's mood darkened. "Tensions have been rising between
Mir and Earth. People on both sides are afraid to trade with each
other." He sighed. "Between legal expenses and plain old losses, we're
really strapped for cash now."

"I'm so sorry..." Patrick whispered, staring at his boots.

"Well, it can't be helped. Eat your soup, it's going cold."

He focused on his bowl, and didn't seem to notice when his wife pulled
their son into the adjoining kitchen.

"What is it, mom?"

"I know my boy. You would never complain to your father. But I made
friends of my own in NuShan these past few months. Whatever you need,
I can pull strings for it. You can tell your mother."

Patrick's shoulder's slumped. For a moment, it looked like he would
cry again. "All I want is to go home..."

She hugged him tight and didn't say another word until he led them
back to the truck a few hours later.

----

Carmen was arguing with the little hippie again.

At least Patrick assumed that was the look Robert was aiming for, with
his big hair and torn clothes, but as the girl bluntly put it, the end
result was closer to a caveman. Especially with his short, stout body.

"Why do I have to work? We have machines to cook for us, clean after
us, build homes for us! Why should I have to lift a finger?" he roared,
stomping his foot.

"And how do you propose to put food into the autocook?"

"I could build a machine for that too."

"So, build one."

"That would be more work," grumbled Robert.

A few meters away, Patrick loaded one last shovel of rubble into a
mulebot about as big as a pair of oxen and tapped its hood twice.
The machine awoke and tromped away through the forest, flashing its
headlights. The retreat had been growing in population lately, and
older structures had to be torn down to balance out the new ones.
Increasing the land area was not an option. Worse, the whole thing
had to be done before the first snow, and the retreat's handful of
construction robots were more needed elsewhere.

He set the shovel aside, wiping his forehead as he walked towards the
rest of the group.

"We work because there's work to be done, Robert," he said. "Or do you
want to live like an animal?"

"Nobody asked you, *convict*!" snarled the hippie.

There was a stunned silence. They all knew, of course. Had known ever
since a miscalculation trapped them in a small grotto higher up the
mountain, while the mother of a storm raged outside. They had never
seen him with the same eyes again, but none of them had been so rude
about it.

"That's right," answered Patrick quietly. "I'm a convict. I'm forced
to live here. What's your excuse?"

"I've been wondering myself," said Luna. Or maybe Venus. The three
cyborg sisters talked the same and walked the same. "You don't like
us, you don't like it here... no offense, but maybe you should just,
you know."

Robert glowered at each of them in turn, then slumped to the ground.
"I can't," he groaned. "I lied to my parents. Didn't want to go to
college, you see."

"That's your problem?" asked Naran incredulously. "Why don't you talk
to Master Rune about it?"

"Are you kidding? He'd throw me out on my ear!"

"No he wouldn't. Now, Master Shing on the other hand just might."

Robert wailed.

"You're wasting your time, Naran," fumed Carmen. Clanking steps were
signaling the return of the mulebot. "Let him sit there if that's what
he wants." She grabbed a sledgehammer and headed back to the
demolished building. The others followed her one by one. Robert sat
alone for a while, then got up and joined them.

----

The rising sun hadn't yet reached the rocky crags surrounding the
retreat, but the fresh snow on the slopes already shone brilliantly.
A bird, barely visible against the sky, swooped down among the naked
tree trunks in absolute silence. The only other movement was a telecom
laser tracking something unseen from the roof of a chalet, which it
shared with a small weather station and other paraphernalia.

Then something stirred in the shadow of the first story balcony.
A shovel dropped into the snowdrift below, followed by someone in
a billowing gray cloak. Patrick picked himself up from the hole he
had made and proceeded to remove the build-up against the ground
floor wall, muttering choice words about whoever had the bright idea
to place a door facing the prevailing winds.

He was breathing heavily by the time he got the door to open, exhaling
miniature clouds into the morning air. He checked the wrist computer
he had built around what was left of his mobile after that training
accident; Sister Thetys' electronics lessons had paid off. "Truck's
already in!" he said to nobody in particular, eyeing the barely
visible road in the distance. The forest trail leading there was
covered in knee-high snow, but a row of wooden poles spaced about an
arm length apart still poked out, their flat tops swept clean by the
night's wind. The young man chuckled inwardly, remembering how he used
to puzzle over their purpose. Now he jumped on top of the first pole
and easily ran down the slope, using them for a staircase.

The truck was in all right, painted red to stand out in the snowy
landscape and with a new snowthrower attachment at the front. People
milled about it, while hydraulic arms loaded and unloaded robotic
carts. Patrick cut through the crowd, aiming for the porch of the
longhouse. His parents made a point of meeting his guardians on each
visit, and there weren't many places where they could do that.

Master Shing got up as Patrick entered the small lounge. He was
a small man with a round face and a severe expression, who moved
precisely and with purpose.

"We'll leave you, then," he told the visitors.

"Once again, thank you for taking care of our son."

Master Shing bowed his head. "I was opposed to his staying here
initially. I was wrong." He walked out the door, followed by a quiet
Rune, who stopped for a moment to pat the young man's shoulder with a
faint smile.

"That's high praise coming from him, you know," said Patrick as he
crossed the room. He stopped to check out the kettle on the stovetop.
"Mulled wine, mmm."

"You seem well at ease here," quipped his mother.

"Might as well, mom. I have another half a year before I can go home."
He slumped in a chair, holding his mug. "Who am I kidding? The judge
will probably change his mind at the last moment."

"I promise you'll walk free on schedule," his father said. "That's
the good news."

"What do you mean?"

"It's my other promise to you I can't keep, son." He sighed. "We're
out of money."

Patrick understood. "You have to return home early after all."

"We'll be back for you. In half a year."

"I'll live." The young man drank from his mug. "I'll live..."

The lounge was quiet for a while, apart from the buzzing of appliances
and the activity right outside the door.

"So," he asked, "what's the latest gossip? Any news from back home?"

----

People fear and hate technology. Even as they enjoy all the comforts
of modern life, they demonize the source of those comforts. See, you
can't blame the hammer when you hit your finger with it. Or the nail,
bad luck, somebody else... A tool forces you to take responsibility
for your own actions, and most people fear responsibility more than
death. Worse, proper use of a tool requires you to know how things
work, and learning about the world around them scares people even more,
if anything. So somewhere along the line, telling people to learn the
first thing about the stuff that makes their lives so easy has become
socially unacceptable. Engineers have been forced to make technology
ever more unobtrusive, to the point of blending invisibly into
everyday items. Out of sight, out of mind.

Which of course only makes people increasingly helpless when something
inevitably goes wrong.

Patrick could see the superstitious respect in the farmer's eyes as
he watched the Dhiira at work. He was the resident mechanic, but that
meant little more than a technician who could ask the computer for a
diagnostic and follow the instructions. If the machine couldn't give
him a clear series of steps to follow, he was lost. And in all honesty,
the young man could remember a time less than a year ago when he even
relied on the speeder to call the emergency services by itself if it
broke down. Peeking under the hood was part of a secret ritual
reserved for the manufacturer's priesthood. Dealerships as temples...

Sister Luna stood off to a side, looking dignified in her cloak, which
was more ornate than his to show higher rank. It was strictly for show,
of course, but the rest of the world didn't need to know that. She
also had fingerless gloves on, elbow-length to mask her tattoos and
covered in interlocking bits of metal and plastic.

"Try it now!" he said as he crawled out of the micro-jungle in the
hardware cabinet and recovered his own cloak.

In response, she raised a hand and the imposing computer console
nearby sprung to life, windows with scrolling text popping into and
out of existence all over the panoramic monitor. Beyond the bay
windows behind it, the vast glasshouse was awakening, lights coming on
as drones took to the air, sprinklers started up and bridge cranes
whirred into motion.

"Do us a favor," Patrick told the stunned farmer. "When they come for
the spring revision? Don't tell them it was us."

The man nodded, and that's when Luna grabbed Patrick's arm. "Look."
It was hard to see with all the plant life, but outside the building
people were running.

"Something's wrong," he answered, and they all but flew down the
stairs. Behind them, the mechanic scratched his head and sat down to
watch his miraculously revived machinery.

----

The bridge over the river was a thing of beauty, with sweeping arches
made of transparent materials, which made it blend into the landscape
like something out of a dream -- ghostly offspring of the surrounding
hills, perched high above the rapid waters.

It was also a century old by now, and likely under-maintained. Which
did not mesh well with the rapidly-melting snow from upstream making
the river swell to several times its normal flow.

By the time Patrick got there, the ends of the bridge had already
collapsed, trapping two little children on the better-supported middle
section. One of the farmers, secured with a cable, was inching along
a surviving support beam towards them, while a dozen others watched.

Then that beam gave up as well, throwing the rescuer against the
riverbank, while the kids slid off the suddenly leaning bridge and
into the frothing water. Somehow, one of them managed to grab a rock,
and they held on for dear life while the crowd above stared in horror.

"Somebody jump after them!" shouted a thick masculine voice.

"Are you nuts?" replied a similar one. "Nobody can survive for long
down there!"

"I can," said Carmen, a haunted look in her eyes. Nobody had seen her
coming, and they didn't make a move while she took off most of her
clothes. She dove just as the little boy lost his grip and disappeared
under the waves along with his sister.

Naran was running towards the group with a second roll of cable.

"The other bridge!" Patrick shouted at him. "Past the bend!" and ran
that way along with everyone else.

"I saw her jump," puffed Naran while he dropped an end of the cable
into the water and wrapped it around a guardrail. The second bridge
was smaller, but that meant it never needed to touch the water. "If
we don't catch them here..."

"How do you know they'll be able to grab that thing?" asked Patrick.

"They won't be." The giant handed him the rest of the cable. "Hang on
to this."

"What... Wait. I can't hold that much weight!"

"But I can," somebody said behind them. It was a middle-aged woman in
coveralls, almost as big as Naran, with a square face and sandy hair
tied in a bun. She wrapped the cable around one of her arms and
motioned Patrick to do the same. "We've got your back, young man."

The giant nodded, then with a single motion wrapped the dangling part
of the cable around his own body before easing himself down alongside
it, head first, using his legs for traction. Foam whirled around his
outstretched fingers, while the river roared between its banks. For a
long moment, he thought it was in fact too late.

Clawed hands emerged from the madness below, one grabbing his wrist,
the other grasping for the cable. It took all his strength not to let
go when Carmen pulled herself up, the two children clinging to her.
But he held on while half a dozen people hoisted all of them back up.

The girl was still hugging the kids while they huddled together on
solid ground, shivering and coughing.

"What's she saying?" somebody asked from the crowd, and Patrick leaned
down to better hear what she was murmuring through clenched teeth.

"I've got you this time, baby. I've got you this time..."

----

It had been a tumultous spring, and news from Earth only added fuel to
the fire. First there had been that diplomatic incident involving the
World Council ambassador to the Mirian union of city states. (Patrick
still had trouble wrapping his head around the local political system.)
Then rumors that the same World Council had been taken over by the
North Pacific powers. After that, communications had become spotty.
Patrick's videos remained unanswered, save for one message from his
parents that had been edited to pieces.

The retreat was changing as well. Robert had been gone since winter,
of course, but now Carmen was leaving as well, on a long pilgrimage to
her home in the Harra mountains. One of the new apprentices, barely
a year younger than Patrick, was looking up to him with admiration
normally given a father figure, which was a bit much for someone who
wouldn't even have been considered an adult back home. But this was
another world...

Compared to that, summer had dragged on like a snail laboring up a
well-polished slide. Against all odds, life was struggling to settle
into a new normal. And that made Patrick afraid all over again. Why
was it sometimes so hard to remember what came before?

He was standing outside the gate one early morning, like so many times
in recent months, while the twins' astronomical clock tick-tocked the
seconds away from its niche in the wall above. The twins themselves
had long moved on to other hobbies. Knowing them, it was something
equally outrageous, such as building a practical transforming mecha --
the eternal chimera of engineering.

Behind him there was a barely audible shuffling noise. "Good morning,
Master Rune," he said without turning.

"Good morning, Patrick." He hesitated. "The judge's office just called.
You're officially free to go."

The young man nodded. "And they couldn't come. So much for promises."

"Who knows what's keeping them..."

"Starliners are never late," Patrick interrupted. "It doesn't work
that way."

"We'll call the spaceport. Worst case, we'll all chip in for your
return ticket."

"My father's partner took care of that. Besides, you've done so much
for me already."

"It's what we do, Patrick. Helping people in need. And you've earned
all of it."

Embarassed silence descended between them. But it didn't last long.

Shouting and running broke the peace of the retreat, echoing through
the gate tunnel behind them. Rune raised his eyebrows and turned to
head back in. He was stopped by a hand waved from a second story
window.

"Hey! Hey! Tune in on the news."

"Which channel?" Patrick shouted back.

"Any channel!"

They spent longer than necessary leaning together over the small
screen, flipping through channels and bringing up searches.

"Broken diplomatic relations... Closed borders..." Rune groaned. "That
means war is imminent."

"Will you go?"

"Many of us will. Our abilities will be needed. Not on the front lines,
mind you. I'm too old for that kind of thing anyway."

Patrick took a few faltering steps before his knees felt too weak, and
he slid to the ground, leaning against the massive stone wall.

"All I wanted was to go home... Was it so much to ask?"

"Your father's partner can take care of you. Failing that, there's a
support center for off-world immigrants down in..."

"What's the *point*?" Patrick raged. "B... besides... once you're gone,
someone will have to stay behind and hold the fort."

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight back tears. It didn't work.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 29 August 2013}}

User:Claude LeChat/Kingdom of the Fire River

2021-02-24T07:07:39Z

Claude LeChat: Improved categories.

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Fantasy]] [[Category:Human]] [[Category:Identity Change]] [[Category:Gay]]

{{title
|name=Kingdom of the Fire River
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|In loving memory of my kitty Dutza, who was with me for 20 long years, and died the day before I could finish writing this story. May she rest in peace.}}

{{dropcap|A}}ric shivered and couldn't seem to stop, the flimsy uniform of a city guard unable to protect him from the cold wind that blew down the mountainside, turning the otherwise warm night into a first breath of the coming autumn. He stomped ill-fitting boots on the pavement, in a vain attempt to warm himself as he patrolled the lower promenade. Above him, terrace after terrace rose like rapids in a river of stone, proud palaces reduced to ghostly shadows at that dark hour. Aric could swear nights were getting darker by the season, despite the lamps perched on every street corner, whose incessant humming drowned any other noise except for the gurgling of falling water that powered them. He clutched the repeating crossbow more tightly, not feeling any safer despite the deadly weapon in his hands. One can hardly shoot an enemy not seen or heard. He'd been told stories about the things prowling that unfamiliar city after sunset, a city not his own. Conscripts never got to serve anywhere near where they lived. Not without rich parents to pull strings, and then their sons and daughters were more likely to be exempted entirely. The law, after all, applies equally to all citizens: one only needs to pay the usual bribe.

A distant rumble drew his gaze in the opposite direction. Far on the horizon, across moonlit plains, a new geyser of fire had sprung forth, joining several others. Glowing rivulets flowed down slopes too far to distinguish, weaving a tapestry of flaming death, and he could swear those sights grew closer by the day. New caravans would soon arrive from the east, carrying more people with strange clothes and strange languages. It was all too easy to blame them for the growing hardships, rather than the clouds of ash and smoke that preceded them. Aric couldn't remember the last time he'd seen more than a handful of stars at once, and crops were worse than in any written record. His twentieth birthday had been gloomy, not that he felt like celebrating in the garrison, with bullish squad mates and icky food. How was he even expected to steady a crossbow on a nearly empty stomach, it was better not to ask his officers. They seemed to think it was a great honor to fight for the country. Perhaps because of all the military supplies they carted away to their own families, out the back door and under wraps.

Somewhere above, a bell rang twice, waking Aric from his reverie. Where was that ass of a sergeant anyway? He'd gone to relieve himself, defying regulations, and hadn't come back yet. Aric marched back along his route, scanning the darkness carefully. No lights shone in the windows so close to the gates: less wealthy denizens had to settle for candles and oil lamps, which weren't to be wasted. The waning crescent overhead was enough to see by if anything tried to move in the open, but narrow staircases winding their way among pine trees were another story.

Aric didn't really expect any trouble. Thieves avoided tangling with the guard as a general rule, while any enemy resourceful enough to climb over the ramparts undetected would have bigger fish to fry. And the refugees huddling in tents outside the gates were probably no more dishonest on average than any local, malicious rumors aside. He could still be punished if anyone who didn't belong slipped past him. So he made a point of walking noisily, even rattling a few doors he knew didn't close well. It all failed to elicit reactions, and by now he was nearing the end of his patrol area. There. Someone was waiting for him, standing immobile against a tall fence. Someone too short and slim to be the sergeant. Two someones. No, three, with silvery hair and pale skin, as he couldn't help but notice as they stepped out of hiding to surround him. But... Night People were a fairy tale! The kind you tell young children to scare them straight.

These here didn't seem to know they were supposed to stay in a story.

It was all Aric could do not to panic. His training had been little more than empty ritual. Oh, he was a decent shot at the range, but that was in broad daylight, with all the targets neatly aligned in front of him. Not dancing around with deceiving motions, as if to spin a web out of the breeze itself.

He managed to loose one bolt before agile, sneaky arms grabbed him from behind, and a smell like ten thousand different spices at once assaulted his nostrils. The bolt even struck true.

----

Aric slept, and dreamed of a long tunnel. A strong air current from behind held him aloft, arms outstretched. His feet only touched the ground now and then, yet he made quick progress. Openings flashed by on either side, curious faces peeking out, but he couldn't stop to look more closely. Water dripped from above, running in cold streaks down his face. It pooled on the uneven ground, making him slip yet not fall. Tattered shadows danced madly in his peripheral vision, making it hard to tell shapes and sizes. Past a richly carved and painted archway, the air grew warmer, while a steady heartbeat not of his own became noticeable.

It hadn't been a dream.

He was lying on a soft, smooth floor at the intersection of three or four corridors. A column in the middle was styled to resemble a tree holding the ceiling up with its branches. In the distance, giant wheels turned in a bluish, intermittent glare. His head pounded, only it didn't come from inside his head. Sitting up was a chore.

Heavy curtains on the wall were pulled open, revealing a niche with carpeted insides. A lamp hung from the ceiling above a chest whose flat top held a tray with a tea set. In the far corner, a pile of cushions was currently occupied by a fat orange cat snoozing without a care. But most fascinating was the man who waited silently, lost in thought. Long gray hair with a silvery sheen that couldn't be natural framed a pale face with eyes big and dark. His bare chest was lean, with well-toned muscles; below the waist, tightly wrapped leggings the color of summer night still had pine needles caught in the seams. Only when he moved did Aric notice the bandage soaked in blood on the man's left arm.

"That was a good shot," stated the latter. He winced. "What's your name?"

"A... Aric. Aric Padari," the young soldier heard his own voice answering.

"Odd choice for a heir of House Taodar."

"What?" Aric was vaguely aware that it wasn't a good time for polite conversation. More like running away screaming. But his body wouldn't listen.

The man leaned forward. "House Taodar? Only the third down from the royal family? I was assured you were of their line."

An image flashed before Aric's eyes. The red-haired soldier from fifth company, where the girls were. Even more of a fish out of water than he was. Only there because her noble father apparently believed hardships built character or some such.

"You leave Tani alone!" he shouted hoarsely, lunging forward. Two other Night People were by his side in an instant, short curved daggers at either hand. Aric's traitorous limbs seized up before the weapons were needed. "She's out of your reach anyway. Transferred. They swapped us around at the last moment."

His three captors exchanged meaningful looks. "So much for counting on that bribe-guzzler to deliver what we paid for. Where is he, anyway?"

"The sergeant? ... You mean him, too? ..." The fog on Aric's brain was clearing up by the minute. "Who are you? Where are we? What's going on here?"

The man laughed. "You are brave, young Aric! Most of your fellow Day People would say ignorance is bliss. Mark my words, we shall meet again. But for now you must return to your own world. The night isn't young anymore."

"Is it wise to let him go, Meister?" asked one of the others.

"Oh, I should hope we can take a chance now and then. Besides," the man added, staring down Aric, "he is known to us now."

Aric staggered under the implications. Not so much the barely veiled threat as all he had learned in those few moments. His thoughts were spinning furiously. Loud buzzing filled his ears, dark clouds covered his field of view, and his knees buckled. For some reason he didn't hit the floor. The smell from earlier returned, only this time it brought no dreams to speak of.

He woke up as the distant bell rang thrice, cold and sore under the open sky. Still nothing stirred on the promenade, and the crossbow was by his side again, the bolt he'd fired stuck in a nearby tree. For some reason, the front of his shirt reeked of spirits. He found the discarded flask a few paces away.

It was all he could do to stumble the rest of the way to the guard booth and sound the alarm.

----

Punishment was to be expected after such a watch, though in the end it wasn't much different from normal army life: a day of carrying logs to be made into firewood for the still-distant winter; a night of running up and down a muddy slope with an angry officer barking random orders. Then he was taken off guard duty in favor of rolling barrels and stacking bags at the food store. If rations got any worse, he couldn't tell. Most curious was how interested the captain of the guard was to hear his story, after the manner everyone insisted Aric had been drunk out of his mind and imagining it all.

The sergeant never turned up again, either. The family he had in town had vacated their rented rooms, and the landlord wasn't in the business of asking questions. A replacement was hired soon enough, then it was back to the old routine. Or was it? Aric soon found that he could no longer unsee the little things he used to dismiss as quirks: a grotto behind a decorative fountain, protected by a locked grate, that from outside just seemed to go on and on; an imposing villa at the end of a side street, as well maintained as it was unused; the clock tower in the central square, whose doors were all shuttered, yet the century-old mechanism ticked away.

Change marked the streets as well. People from the east were everywhere, with their big hats and heavy coats. Their blond hair and blue eyes made Aric even more aware of his own dark complexion than he usually was, this far from his native seaside town in the south. It took an effort to remember that any stares were more likely to be directed at his shiny helmet and shooter. At least they were issued with studded vests for daytime patrol in the crowds, but the short swords they were supposed to carry were in equally short supply.

People still appeared to find the Guard intimidating enough. Aric could only hope they didn't realize how afraid he was that anyone in the crowd might have a knife. Even though now he knew first hand what his own bolts could do.

One evening after curfew they were ordered out of the barracks again and marched quietly to the food stores, following steep side streets by torchlight. There were big jars of a shape the young soldier had never seen before. A man not in uniform had them load a storeroom's worth of them onto carts that they strained to pull along meandering roads, out a side gate and up to what looked like a mine entrance. Aric doubted he could have found the place again the next day. Only after unloading were they allowed to rest for a brief while. Then each of them had to pick up a jar and head down the tunnel.

It wasn't a mine. Maybe it had been once.

Cold air blew on their backs, all but pushing them forward. Water trickled down the walls in places; it had an oily sheen wherever torches reflected on a puddle. Ghostly faces watched them pass from side openings, the glint of short curved blades ever present. Beyond an ornate arch, they were met by the sound of ten thousand angry bees, but it was just a lamp like those in the city above, brightening a kind of antechamber. Only then could Aric see that the jars they carried were translucent, full of exotic fruit along with more troubling shapes. The smaller ones contained viscous fluids that clung to the insides of the glass in strange patterns.

Ahead of him, another soldier wobbled. The boy's knees buckled, and he almost dropped his load, but managed to set it down gently before collapsing against a column, red-faced and breathing heavily. Then the new sergeant was towering over him.

"Be careful, you clumsy peasant! This ain't no bale of hay!" He calmed down somewhat seeing all was in order. "Tired already? Look at him, half your size and hasn't even broken a sweat."

The sergeant's chin was pointing at Aric, who very much wanted to vanish into a side tunnel at the moment. But that's where Night People were now coming from, wearing leather aprons and unsettling eyepieces.

"Pull any more crap and I leave without you," added the officer. "Goes for all of you if you flap your pie holes about what you saw."

The red-faced boy was upright in the blink of an eye, hoisting up his load. They didn't have much farther to go. On the way out, Aric fancied he could see a bare-chested man with a bandaged arm watching him from behind a curtain, but the troop trundled onward too quickly.

----

It was Aric's final day in the city.

The news had come soon after their nocturnal incursion. They were all being dispatched as the escort of a caravan bound for the capital, to be replaced by new recruits. That brought relief, but also sadness. He'd grown fond of the tall buildings with stone walls of many colors, grand entrances flanked by statues, and bridges that swung back and forth, set into motion by the very water flowing beneath them. The young soldier hadn't seen enough, and now was never going to have another chance.

And what a day! For once, the sun was shining, chasing haze from the air. Birds were chirping, the air was abuzz with insects, while the smell of pine needles was overpowering. Deep below his feet, storm sewers howled with overflow from a recent rain, the first in too many months. That wasn't normal, locals had assured him: food had to be brought into the city from longer distances with each passing season, and their valuable exports could only stretch so far in compensation.

Looking back, he could see it easily: the hungry, begging for scraps in the market; the homeless, taking shelter in crumbling ruins while lofty halls stood empty; the work gangs, marching every morning into mills from which clouds of noxious dust billowed out, in the clacking and clattering of waterwheels, to come out only at sundown if at all. There didn't seem to be any prisons; there never seemed to be any bodies, either.

None of that could stop people from marking the first day of autumn. Aric watched the procession advancing towards him, larger by the moment as residents came out of their houses to join the clergy. They walked by in pious silence, led by stern-looking women in plain white robes, only muttering short prayers as they bowed, hands joined, on their way past a wellspring covered in moss. It wasn't at all like back home, where a flower-laden priestess and her youthful acolytes led a cheerful parade, blessing every household along the way with song and dance.

Aric grew bored as the last stragglers moved past his designated position and on to the next stairs of note. They had a long ascent to the Lord Mayor's palace at the top if they were to pass by each of the seven temples. He turned to look downwards, past the promenade, at the distant ramparts and the sea of tents beyond. Metallic reflections caught his eye: the clockwork ballistae perched atop of the gate towers pivoted back and forth, their deadly load held in place by long brass tubes. It made no sense. Tani had explained to him how stockpiling alchemical fire was more dangerous for its wielders than any possible enemy. And what enemy did they have? Surely the kingdom's only neighbors to the east were too busy escaping fiery doom to consider conquest.

The promenade he presently overlooked was filling with those cityfolk who would rather party than make offerings to greet the new season. Aric looked left and right to where his squad mates were supposed to be posted... and couldn't see them. He proceeded slowly towards the bend in the street that would bring him to the next terrace down. There! A flash of color in the corner of his eye. A... fat orange cat? He took several steps in pursuit of the familiar-looking creature before catching himself. Quite a few in fact.

A thunderclap from behind threw him to the ground, ears ringing. Soon it was raining cobblestones, and he crawled desperately on knees and elbows in search of shelter. The pavement tilted and went out from under him. Aric slid down into darkness, a fall that didn't seem to have an end.

----

It was dark, and everything hurt. He tried to get up. The sharp rocks supporting his body rattled, but stayed put. As his eyes began to adjust, it became apparent that the terrible din which made it so hard to think was caused by water rushing out of broken pipes, only to disappear into the depths off the edges of light. Wait, what? A look up revealed a ragged hole far above. He squinted at the brilliant rays pouring from it, obscured now and then by human shapes. Were they shouting? Aric couldn't quite hear, and his own voice came out squeaky. Trying to climb the incline only resulted in other rocks tumbling down. Maybe if a rope were to be lowered, but instead, whoever was up there left altogether after a while.

He waited until the hunger and chilly air started gnawing at him. Outside, the sun moved in the sky. Once or twice he heard what might have been the call of bells. Nothing else happened. It wasn't until he got up to leave that he saw a hand poking out from a pile of heavier boulders. The hand was limp, and getting cold.

Light reflecting off the furious water shimmered on the rock face across the torrent, underscoring row after row of doorways and windows shrouded in eternal night. Maybe that's where the boatman would take Aric if he failed to get out alive, otherwise there was no obvious way to reach them. In the other direction, a ledge not much higher up from his spot led to what looked like stairs.

A cautious ascent that left him sweaty and trembling put Aric within an arm's length of his objective. His next step found no purchase; stiff fingers couldn't latch onto an edge. The young soldier tumbled deeper down, accompanied by a few small rocks and many deafening echoes.

There wasn't a spot on his battered flesh that wasn't sore now. At least he was on solid ground for a change. It was pitch black too, but by now he knew what kind of monsters lurked in those sunless reaches. Better to die seeing a human face.

That thought spurred him into action. Probing around with touch and hearing uncovered a narrow passage with smooth walls. He followed it eagerly; the sound of water gradually fell behind, leaving only his pounding heart and ragged breath. Aric almost failed to notice when light returned, pale and feeble. How disappointing to finally see the tiny bright point at the top of a vertical shaft not much wider than his head.

His attention was drawn by a soft whine. A child lay in a heap on the mucky floor, among bits of garbage, sobbing tiredly. A child of the Night People. He sat down nearby, without a word. After some time, the little girl clambered into his arms and nestled there. He stroked her silvery hair absently. They were in a brick tube, large enough for him to stand with arms wide open. Pipes opened in the walls at various heights. By far the largest was the one he'd come through, but others may have been able to fit them.

"Hey," he said. "I'm Aric. What's your name?"

The girl sniffled. "Oloni."

"That's nice. It suits you. Listen, Oloni, which way did you come?"

She looked around and shrugged. He squeezed her shoulders. Other minutes passed. Squeaky sounds repeated insistently, as diminutive shapes skittered from hole to hole. They turned out to favor a wider crawlspace he'd taken for a shadow.

"Let's follow the rats," Aric suggested. Oloni nodded.

The already scarce light faded fast as they went deeper. The girl deftly avoided every obstacle regardless as they padded along on all fours. Aric had been falling behind for a while when she simply stopped.

"What is it?" he whispered. Instead of answering, she took his hand and guided him.

The way ahead was barred by fallen boulders. Rats may have been able to sneak between them, but not anything bigger. Aric leaned against the obstruction, groaning. It wasn't long before Oloni cuddled with him again.

Much later, they could hear stone scraping on stone. Then again, closer. It was coming from behind the barrier.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Hello!"

The next thing he did was cover his ears. When the echoes died down, Oloni tsked and rummaged on the ground. A hesitant series of clicks and taps told Aric she was banging rocks together.

To his surprise, a sure hand answered in the same fashion from afar. Clearly it was a code of some sort. A brief back-and-forth, then the scraping resumed. It was coming closer with agonizing slowness, but come it did, until a shower of pebbles let him know someone had broken through.

"There you are." a voice stated matter-of-factly. Aric tried in vain to locate its source.

"What's the matter?" asked another voice. "Oh... right."

With a hiss, a faint reddish glow came into being, and quickly grew to comfortable levels: a swirling globe of liquid light encased in an intricate brass frame. It illuminated a hand and face caked in dust, reaching towards them from behind a broken slab of stone.

"Mommy!" chirped Oloni, and slithered through to the other side. Aric followed slowly.

Past the dismantled obstruction, the ceiling rose gradually, until they could walk upright again. New light came from ahead, then they emerged into a corridor with soft, smooth floor and rounded edges. A pair of heavy blocks pivoted silently, hiding the opening they'd come through so well that Aric doubted his ability to find it later.

His rescuers were two of the same Night People who had abducted him the other week. It dawned on him at last that they had been women all along.

"Thank you," said the one holding little Oloni in her arms.

The other one examined her dirty, sweaty tunic with a frown. In one smooth move, she took it off. The breast-band underneath didn't look much better.

"Undress yourself," she told Aric.

"Why?!"

The woman wrinkled her nose. "You need a bath. We both do. Don't worry, there are partitions."

----

He woke up much later, lying on soft cushions, a warm vibrating lump pressed against his side. Aric opened his eyes. The now-familiar cat blinked slowly at him. He cautiously tried to pet the animal. Timid fingers were met with a wet nose.

"His name is Kraft. Seems to like you already."

The man Aric had talked to on his first night underground sat cross-legged on the thick carpet, watching steam form odd shapes as it came out of a teapot. He was wearing see-through robes that couldn't hide the scar on his arm where the bandage had been.

"I... I think he saved my life up there," Aric stammered. "Sounds crazy, but..."

"Cats work in mysterious ways," the man agreed. "How do you feel?"

"What's it to you?" Aric didn't quite succeed in sounding defiant. He sat up. With the curtains closed, the niche sought to wrap him in a velvety, colorful embrace. A mixture of smells taunted his nose. Bite-size rolls on a tray caught his eye, making his stomach gurgle.

"Thought so. Dig in," said the host, setting the example. Aric warily picked up the second fork. Before he knew it, the tray was empty.

"Thank you, er, Meister? What should I call you?"

The man pondered. "Oh, I collected a few names over the years. Drian of Ibra. Engi the Clockmaker. Or as of late just Kissa." He poured tea in two cups.

"Mine is a nickname that stuck," said Aric. "Because I'm prickly, my folks say."

Kissa sipped from his drink quickly, failing to conceal an amused smile. "Well, you can certainly sting."

The young soldier sputtered and squirmed.

"Aw, come on. I'm not angry with you. That whole night was a mess. You ought to have been forewarned, so as to put up a mock fight. Or rather your friend."

"Oh... What did you want with Tani anyway?"

"To hand over a message for her father."

Aric took a sip from his own cup. Then another. Its bitter fragrance filled his mouth, bringing with it the warmth of a summer day in the forest.

"You must be someone important, Meister Kissa. Do Night People rule the city?"

"No, the Burgmeisters rule. We *run* the burg for them. There's a difference."

"I don't understand."

"Come, I'll show you. Evening approaches fast by now. We have work to do."

At first Aric stopped every few steps to pull at his undergarments. His embarrassment soon faded: he was still overdressed compared to his host, who led the way self-assuredly. The whole place was more like one big dwelling, he noticed in passing. A dozen Night People often shared one tunnel closed at both ends with curtains. From somewhere came the staccato of looms, muffled by layers of air and fabric. At various intervals, slits in the walls admitted oblique rays, just when they seemed about to plunge into complete darkness. Fresh cracks extended from plenty of them.

Past one last bend in the corridor, a doorway led to the base of a shaft that climbed sideways through solid rock. Wooden rails affixed to the floor supported a small cart connected to long ropes that vanished into the distance, moved by man-sized wheels half buried in the floor through a system of pulleys. Part of the mechanism spun idly, waiting. Aric recoiled in horror.

Kissa regarded him impenetrably. "Would you rather take the stairs? It's a long way to the top."

Later, Aric wouldn't remember how he got in the cart, but only a nightmare punctuated by eerie visions flying by as they passed rounded openings: parts of an aqueduct; waterwheels and screws; pipes and valves; then more giant clockwork. It all ended in a kind of wide cave with numerous columns scattered throughout. Guards greeted them in front of a sculpted door.

"Now you know why we would rather do our work in hiding. Most people fear the sight of that which sets their world into motion. Like children staring at an ugly insect."

"I'm no child," Aric protested weakly.

"No, you are not. Avert your eyes," added Kissa. He put on a complicated eyepiece before crossing the threshold.

The room beyond was so bright it hurt. As his eyes adjusted, Aric could make out a waist-high basin, full of crystal-clear water, in the middle of a dome supported by arches. There was so much marble! Faceted globes in the ceiling shone like the sun, focusing beams of light onto the basin. He moved to see better, and his jaw dropped.

It was like looking out of the ornamental fountain in the central square at an angle. Blurry people stood or walked past, when they didn't reach straight into the image, distorting it, only to withdraw with cupped hands. Fragments of distant conversations could be made out if one listened carefully. The long shadow of the clock tower cleaved the image in two, pointing at a plume of smoke that still rose in the distance. Aric needed a moment to figure out where it came from.

"Is that the old arsenal?"

"Indeed. We are in luck. If it was the new one, there wouldn't be much of a burg left to work with."

"But... what caused it?"

"We have no idea yet. Our spies on the surface are mum, and the Burgmeisters are yet to summon us."

Aric frowned. "Can't we go up there and see for ourselves?"

"Not before night falls. We cannot stand daylight. And it's hard to learn much when most surface dwellers are asleep. Even if we could readily reveal our presence."

"I can do both."

Kissa turned to face him. The eyepiece made him look like the face of some mechanical spider god. "Will you help us, after everything we've done to you?"

The young soldier clearly hadn't considered the question. He nodded, first haltingly, then with more determination. The answer surprised him: an extended hand. They grasped each other's arms firmly.

----

The night air was pleasantly warm for once, or at any rate Aric's borrowed clothes did a better job of keeping him that way. The fires had died down at last, allowing smoke to scatter. It could have been an ordinary patrol but for the company he kept at the time. He was of average height among his own, yet still taller than most Night People, including the three walking with him right now. They snuck along trails that snaked down the mountain, to emerge among the poorer dwellings on the edge of town, and from there onto the lower terrace.

Half the promenade didn't exist anymore, and the other half was set up with tents. Not as they were made in the kingdom, but the foreign kind taking up much of the hills in front of the gates. The moans and cries they could hear from inside left little doubt as to their use. Tired nurses came out now and then for a sip of water and a breath of fresh air. Now Aric understood the point of his companions' disguises: with silky shirts and their hair wrapped in embroidered scarves, they could just pass for easterners in the light of torches. The wondrous lamps, pride of the city, were also out near the ruined area. Thankfully, the tunnels of the Night People were buried deeper this close to the ramparts, so damage had been limited underground. As for Aric, he at least looked like a proper royal subject, so it befell him to do most of the talking.

That was the scary part of the plan.

In the end, it wasn't so hard. Turned out that most locals couldn't tell one foreigner from another, and the other way around. They took turns picking out those injured who had been overlooked in the chaos. Tongues untied once pain faded away with the help of alchemical concoctions only nobility had access to otherwise. And not because Night People lacked the means to make more.

What they learned wasn't very useful. It had been an accident. No, sabotage. There were foreign spies in the city. No, royal spies. An invasion was brewing, unless it was civil war. Blame sat with all those newcomers who kept talking in their own language, when it wasn't Night People out to get everyone.

The latter seemed nonplussed. It was fine, they said. Those more in the know would help them sift through the rumors. One has to know what the talk of the street is to carry out convincing conversation. Aric supposed they knew best.

Guards stumbled upon them on the return trip.

The young soldier should have guessed they would double shifts after an incident like that, not to mention all the late activity. Hindsight wasn't much use however as they retreated along back alleys, awakened dogs joining the chorus of shouts chasing them. He was probably thought dead, his inner voice said, or else a deserter. Either way, there was no going back. He couldn't even tell if he knew any of the pursuers. Or whether that would have been better or worse.

A woman getting water from a well screamed and ran away, dropping her bucket. The Night People had shed their disguises. In the confusion, a tiny garden gate opened, admitting the four of them. Aric never got to thank the miller before they were ushered through a skillfully concealed passage under the stopped machinery, and into the safety of tunnels.

----

Aric's tunic was never going to look the same again, with all the new seams and patches. It was all for the best, he pondered, leaning closer to the nearby lamp to thread the needle. He wasn't a soldier anymore.

"Oh no," he muttered, "how am I ever going to get home now?"

Two paces away, Oloni abandoned her toys and crawled over to cuddle with him. The girl's mother and her companion looked up from their place near a firepit that burned with no flame or smoke. Only steam rose from the pot suspended above it, quickly drawn away by a hole in the ceiling. Their names were Cetri and Fanti; that was all the young man had learned so far.

"You could stay," Kissa said mildly. He put down a piece of slate covered in numbers and fiddled with fist-sized jars, sprinkling spices into the boiling pot. "Our numbers are dwindling as it is."

Aric surveyed the far side of the room, taken up by other Night People. New faces. Not even those he'd been outside with earlier. A couple returned his gaze. Most kept their eyes on the items they held. A musical instrument. A codex. A blueprint. Age didn't show on papery skin and silver hair, but it did on their hands. So much unlike his own.

"But I'm not even... I mean..."

"We weren't always like this either, Aric." Kissa poured the creamy contents of the pot into a bowl and gave it to him. "I was born on the banks of the Denere. Used to have curly black hair like yours."

"Do you ever miss it? Living in the sun and all?"

Kissa looked very sad all of a sudden. "Every single night. But you can miss something a lot and yet not want it back."

The young man opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind and focused on the bowl. It was still too hot.

"Anyway," resumed his host, "what did you find out? I want your version too."

So Aric recounted the night's events for him, as best as he remembered. Kissa listened intently, nodding now and then.

"Sounds like we missed all the fun." He looked at the two women. "Had to go and wake the captain of the guard personally."

"You know the captain of the guard?"

"Scary lady, isn't she?" Kissa winked at him, grinning playfully, then became serious once more. "But make no mistake, she's fair and just. Loyal to the burg above all."

"How else? She takes orders from the City Lords, er, Burgmeisters."

"Eh... lately I think they're only loyal to their own interests anymore."

"Oh." Aric drank from the bowl. The soup was smooth as silk, and delightfully filling. "So what did she have to say?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. She's being kept in the dark. But with the arsenal going up in flames, there seems to be a traitor within the Guard."

"Not those we're paying ourselves, either," added Fanti. Cetri smirked.

Aric drank more soup, deep in thought. "But a traitor sold to whom?"

"That's what we'd like to find out," Kissa spoke anew. "If the burg is in danger, we're in danger."

"Maybe I can find out more in broad daylight?" The young man seemed surprised that the bowl was nearly empty.

"You've risked enough tonight."

Aric didn't say anything. He returned the empty dish, and picked up his tunic again, to examine it in the reddish lamplight. It looked silly with all those colorful patches, but that was as good as he could make it.

"Good work," Fanti praised him. "Where did you learn the trade?"

"At home. Mother is a seamstress."

"Planning to follow in her footsteps?"

"Oh no. That's a woman's job. Father threatens to kick me out of the house as it is. Says I'm just another mouth to feed."

"I didn't know there was such a thing as a woman's job," Fanti quipped. "Where do you draw the line?"

The young man got all tongue-tied.

"Well," said Kissa after a while, "I'd better go inspect the works. Thanks for letting me use your stuff, Cetri."

"Always welcome," she replied, returning her own bowl to the growing pile.

"Can I come with you, Meister?" Aric asked.

"By all means."

Not far out of the room, past a couple of bends in the twisty tunnels, narrow stairs wound their way through the rock like a corkscrew. Instead of going down to more private quarters, Kissa turned upwards. Sounds of activity soon grew louder, puffs of dust and smoke escaping from doorways now and then. Behind them were workshops of various kinds. Aric's newly repaired tunic soon acquired the gleam of mica dust, and a clasp made of a broken cogwheel, as his host talked to the workers and introduced him. There was even an alchemic laboratory at one point, the room's contorted shape mirrored in the glassware strewn on tables. On the way back, he spotted on the shelves of a storeroom large jars with shapes he'd seen only once before. Kissa patted him on the shoulder, but said nothing.

"Where am I going to sleep?" asked the young man once they were back in Kissa's niche. "Can't keep using your bed."

"Why not?" deadpanned his host. "Do you mind sharing?"

Aric felt his ears turn hot. "I grew up with two brothers, two sisters and one large bed. But we were kids."

"Suit yourself." Kissa shrugged and proceeded to take off his shirt, getting his long hair tangled in it, and snaking about in an attempt to get it free.

The guest watched for a good minute or more, fascinated. "Well?"

"Oh!" The host reached past him, coming very close in the tight space, and raised the corner of a carpet from the wall. Beyond was another, smaller niche, just the right size for Aric to sleep in it, and suitably appointed.

"This was meant for a live-in servant," explained Kissa, "but I have very little use for such, and a good pair of hands is better employed elsewhere these days."

He moved back to his corner and unscrewed the lid from a small jar, from which he took a fragrant balm to rub on his scar.

"Need any help?"

"I can reach my new wound. Not so much the old one." He showed a red line dug into the flesh across his shoulder blades. "Work accident. I usually have to ask one of the girls."

Aric made a skeptical face, but accepted the jar, and did his best to spread its contents on the bigger scar.

"You have gentle hands," remarked Kissa.

"T-thank you, Meister."

Out in the corridor, Kraft was coming from somewhere, licking his chops. He looked rounder than usual. The host pulled the curtains closed all the way, and dimmed the lamp.

----

The distant streams of lava looked subdued in the sunlight, as if sleeping off recent exertions. The old arsenal's ruins were at last no longer burning, and the smaller fires in its vicinity had been put out as well. Only the tents on the promenade remained, grimy and sagging. That, and the gaping hole in the terrace above them.

Aric stayed well away from either. Hair wrapped in a headscarf after the style of sailors in his nation, he looked very much the stranger. One might have wondered what a young seaman from the south was doing so far from the wide open waters, but it did reduce the chances of being recognized. Locals weren't in the habit of scrutinizing visitors too closely, be they merchants or migrants. Mistrust them, yes. City guards of course were another story, but the young man knew all too well how to avoid them.

Not so much the royal army.

What were they even doing in town? They must have arrived during the morning, and in greater numbers than the Guard had ever been able to muster during the months Aric had been there. Walking the streets in groups of three, armed with cuirass and halberd, their mere presence split the crowd and shushed conversations. For once however, Aric's dark skin, the butt of so many jokes, made him all but invisible.

On a whim, he headed to the food market. If it was anything like home, people would want to replenish their supplies following the other day's feast, however rudely it had been interrupted. That was hardly the case. The young man was yet to see the enclosure so empty and quiet, even this close to noon. After strolling around the place a couple of times, he figured out what was missing: people from the east, with their vigorous shouts and wide gestures. The few Aric was able to spot avoided looking up, and all but gave away their wares. His meager purse proved sufficient for a double handful of dried fruit with a name that twisted his tongue even more than the tart flavor. He hated to think the orchard it came from could now be lying under a layer of ash.

The young man hungered for gossip more than food though, so he soon drifted upwards to where most of the smithies could be found. Outsiders seldom found their way into guilds, so artisans only faced competition from the large mills, of which they complained loudly over the din of hammers. Aric had not much coin or interest for baubles; it was a keen ear that caught him the rumor he was chasing.

No such thing was needed to hear the cries of children separated from their parents once he reached the mill quarter. Built almost on top of each other up the riverbank opposite the city, they were a foreboding sight at the best of times. Let alone with endless lines of refugees marched inside like cattle, families broken up at the swing of a halberd.

Aric's mind was numb. The child in him wanted to know why, but as the question spun idly in his mind, the adult soon came up with a better one: where were all the local workers?

It was the former soldier in him who found an answer. How right he was only became apparent as he drew near the barracks.

The royal army was there to recruit. And they didn't much care whether people were willing.

He had to get out of there before someone noticed him staring and offered a tour of the garrison. One that could take years. The young man forced himself not to run as he retraced his steps. Retreat to a safe distance, take a detour and climb as far as the central square. It sounded like a plan, in any event.

Too bad he had neglected to keep an eye out for the regular patrols. It only took one. With a pair of crossbows pointed at him from up close, it wasn't the time to test the aiming skills of his former comrades in arms. Fortunately, they weren't inclined to shoot on sight either. Even if a couple of them thought he was literally back from the dead, as he learned once they took him in. To the others, he served a story about wandering the literal underside of the city, dodging the big bad Night People, until a way out of the depths presented itself. It didn't really hold water, as the sergeant made clear while roughing him up. At best that gave them a pretext not to have him beheaded as a deserter. Not yet, at any rate.

Turned out, the captain of the guard wanted to interrogate him in person. Again.

The bell in the clock tower rang once as Aric was being walked past. Hollow, somehow. He could never unlearn that the ample carved doors were fake, and the tower had no floors, but only a ladder climbing from the movement below street level to the dials on top.

Where they were going was another story. The captain wasn't in her office near the barracks that day, but the other one, in the Hall of Justice. Aric had been there too, a couple of times, escorting commoners to a trial. As accused, of course. Inspiring words adorned the marble-plated walls, or so they had sounded with Tani reading them to him. Now he could scarcely recall half a sentence.

They climbed so many flights of stairs, Aric lost count. Each new floor was less populated than those below, until silence became ominous in the dirty sunlight filtered through the windows.

It was an office as stern as its occupant, with plain white walls, a rarity in that place, and hardly any furniture spared for comfort. She shooed the guards out; they were only too happy to leave the sight of their leader. The woman waved him in, and he obeyed, eyes darting from her broad face to the helmet on the desk and the short sword hanging from the back of her chair. The latter creaked as they sat opposite from each other. She knew what Aric had been up to, and made that very clear while pouring him a drink. The young man was now an insider. Mostly, she wanted to know all there was about the Clockmaker of the Underground, the famed mastermind of the Night People.

Aric blanked out. Slowly, he realized she meant Kissa. And the first thing that came to mind was the man's soft, warm hand on his naked shoulder as he whispered that it was mid-morning in the surface world already.

Oh, he found plenty of details to recount in the end. Hopefully none of them were too sensitive. The captain even cracked a smile at his candid account of life down there. At long last, she declared herself satisfied, and strode out, leaving him to wait in the office with a strong warning for company.

He was too afraid to get up for a while. Then as the clock rang four times and no more sounds came from the hallway, the woman's words started replaying in his mind. Don't try jumping out the window, she'd said, and indeed the narrow opening was too high up a sheer wall, as it became obvious when he leaned out. Even if he could somehow reach the ground in one piece, patrolling guards couldn't fail to spot him.

What else, then? There's no other door out of the room, she had added, as if it wasn't obvious. Unless... he inspected the furniture more closely. The bookshelves, in particular, carried detailed wood carvings in the local tradition. Lost among them was a symbol he'd only seen placed above doorways in the underground.

Sure enough, it concealed a spring-loaded lever that in turn opened a secret passage. Aric never looked back.

----

"So war is brewing on the northern border. How convenient for the royal court."

"I don't understand, Meister."

"Think, Aric. We were expecting a company of your replacements. Instead, we got a battalion of regular troops. Who somehow knew their assistance was needed and came prepared."

"Maybe they crossed paths with a courier along the way," offered Fanti.

"Perhaps. That leaves the old arsenal being blown sky-high just the day before. As if someone wanted them to find the burg weakened."

"Now you're being theatrical," she said gently.

"Am I? Why would they place the burg under martial law, so far from the front lines of a war that hasn't yet started?"

Aric couldn't read Kissa's expression through the mechanical eyepiece. Daylight was more subdued than last time in the room with the viewing pool, yet Night People still needed protection. Across from the young man, Cetri was sharpening her dagger. He focused on the shimmering image between them, an inverted skyline now dominated by glinting polearms. The woman put her weapon away and drew its pair.

"They'll be coming," she said.

"And break the pact we have with the Day People?" asked Fanti.

"A pact they wouldn't know or care about," Kissa pointed out. "The Burgmeisters themselves need to be reminded time and again."

"How would they know about us... you... in the first place?" inquired Aric.

Kissa sighed. "Our existence is an open secret, at least in the right circles."

"Oh." The young man let his shoulders slump. "Oh."

The attack came two days later, at sunset. Three companies of the royal infantry burst in through the upper tunnels and went straight for the council chamber where Aric and Kissa explained their findings again to a trio of elders. The Night People on watch were not equipped to deal with such a foe; they were swiftly pushed back. The ornate doors burst open, pushed by an officer who clearly did not expect to find so many people awake and ready for him. That's when the metal orbs on either side lit up, flooding the corridor with a web of lightning. The intruders cried out in pain and anguish; those who yet could backpedaled hastily in the sudden darkness, only to run into reinforcements which kept coming from behind. Greenish fire streaked out of side tunnels, burning through steel as if it wasn't there. A flurry of short blades followed, that polearms couldn't easily turn to face in the confined quarters. Few ever found the exit again.

But Aric heard most of the story later. At the time he was more concerned with the half-dozen of so soldiers who had made it into the room despite everything. In the flickering light of their torches, Night People were like ghosts swooping down on them from impossible angles.

They were, however, quite mortal after all. Back against a wall, a borrowed blade held painfully in clenched hands, the young man watched in horror as bodies collapsed on both sides. One did so right next to him: a lithe form with flowing white hair. A shadow loomed huge over the both of them, arms raised high, ready to deal the fatal blow.

Aric's brain stopped working. He lunged clumsily, like he didn't think he would ever have to for real, and felt his weapon slide under armor with a sickening lurch. A long moment passed, then his opponent crumpled to the ground, leaving him disarmed. But it didn't matter anymore: he was the last one standing.

"Are you all right?" he asked hysterically, kneeling besides the fallen shape. "What do I do?"

"I'm unharmed," he heard Kissa answer, like from very far away. "Get someone to turn the lights back on. I know who the traitor is."

----

The city was ablaze with the flames of revolt.

Crowds only grew thicker on their way up the terraces, torches multiplying by the minute, a grim reflection of the procession a few days prior. Burning wreckage floated down the river in their wake: those merchants who willingly worked with the big mills or the royal army had been given a rude awakening. People had struggled hard for their privileges; not even the monarch could take them back without a fight. The city's new peacekeepers regrouped again and again, and still couldn't stem the tide. Guards stood aside, caught between their duty to the people and allegiance to the kingdom.

And what a show it was. Many who joined the revolt wore bleached wigs and painted their skin white. It made them more visible in the dark, but that too was a statement. They'd drink from flasks and spit on the ground, req liquid trickling down their chins. They'd split and rejoin, flowing around choke points like water. Hiding behind each other. Uncountable. Unstoppable.

It all suited the real Night People just fine.

Aric thought it was insanely dangerous for Kissa to expose himself like that, doubly so after the recent events, but here he was with his two faithful bodyguards. After all, the young man hadn't stayed behind either. And the trio he'd been with on the night after the disaster was also there.

Besides, the crowds were a good couple of terraces away from the palaces of minor City Lords. Had the latter known who was really coming, maybe they'd have hired more private guards for the night. Then again, mused the former soldier, Lord Buiba always skimped on those, instead choosing to request official protection for free.

His armed servants never knew what hit them.

The interior of the building was just as cluttered with mismatched decorations as the exterior, and its owner just as bloated as Aric remembered. He was equal parts defiant and terrified once awakened, all too happy to rat out his fellow City Lords. They had been working on a bid to break with the kingdom and become a free city, the man explained. And it wasn't loyalty to the royal court that had driven him to betray the attempt. Quite simply, having to pay customs would have put a dent in his lucrative commerce with the capital. It made him resentful enough that Night People got the first pick of exotic wares from the east, to use in their secretive works.

What Aric couldn't understand was why so many people had had to die. It wasn't as if they wanted to leave the kingdom. That much he knew from months of overheard conversations. And then, what were they going to do, kill a lord? Kidnap him? The man sneered as he asked them that exact question.

It was the woman who entered the door, having to bend down to do so, who gave the answer. She'd heard enough, having arrived soon after the Night People. And the captain of the guard would be listened to at the trial.

That was a thing even a lord could be afraid of.

Outside, the rebellious crowds were coming ever closer, bloody clashes with the soldiers facing them about to turn into an all-out battle. The woman let one of her lieutenants take in the traitor. It was time to take sides. And her oath was to the city first.

But Aric and his companions had already melted into the shadows by then. It was a relief, yet the young man couldn't help but wonder if that was going to be his life going forward. Skulking. Hiding. Plotting.

He didn't envy Kissa one bit. And why was he thinking of Tani out of the blue?

The question troubled him all the way back to the tunnels.

----

The Lord Mayor finally made a proclamation the next day towards noon. It was unfortunate, he stated, that the city's loyalty to the kingdom had been put into doubt, but trampling its charter the way royal troops had done could not be disregarded. They were to leave the citizenry alone and depart as soon as it could be arranged. Their commander protested that a small army needed time to move out, but did pull his soldiers into their temporary quarters. Many of the new recruits returned to their families; others came of their own will to fill some of the gaps. A couple of days later, after giving no sign of actually preparing, they lifted camp and filed out the gates in mere hours. Spies could only assume a courier from the capital had brought news of the war.

To top it all, the man Aric had stabbed was alive, and could even receive a visit now, the surgeon said. That was a relief. He prepared at length for the meeting. Kissa had offered to go in his stead. It took Aric a lot of strength to say no.

He steeled himself again before passing through the curtain. Dressed in the revealing robes Night People favored at home, face covered by a veil like they favored when going on the surface, Aric could be anyone. That suited him fine. Being himself anymore just felt wrong as of late.

The captive was tall and well fed, not much older than Aric. The uniform folded next to his bedding belonged to an army lieutenant. He squinted at the visitor in the dim lamplight, trying to raise his head.

"Who are you?"

Aric pointed at the man's bandages. "I'm the one who gave you that." The hoarse whisper sounded strange to his own ears.

"Have you come to gloat?"

"I've come to..." Why had he come, anyway? "Your unit has left. Thought you might want to know."

"Oh." The captive nodded weakly. "Just send the ransom letter to Ostan, head of House Camorein, in Ibra. I'm Prais, the third son."

"Certainly."

"Thank you." Prais relaxed visibly. "May I inquire about the fate of my men?"

"Anyone who didn't run is dead. We gave them the proper rites."

"All of them?!" The man jerked upright, only to groan in pain and lie back down. Aric ran to his side, propping him with another pillow or two.

"I'm afraid so. Night People don't take it well when their home is invaded." Aric didn't have the heart to tell the young officer how survivors had asked their captors for asylum.

Prais laughed bitterly. "Disowned, defeated and disgraced."

"But alive. Please don't throw that away."

That earned Aric a long, thoughtful look. "May I know your name?"

"Call me... Amnul. Amnul of the Black Lakes." It hurt to say the words.

The young officer's gaze descended to the blade adorning Aric's naked waist. "Fitting."

It was much later when Cetri found Aric in a training room, lunging and slashing at a pair of dummies.

"Not like that", she said, walking over. The young man let her press against his body from behind, guiding his limbs into the proper stance. Soon they were moving together, weaving the deadly dance he'd only witnessed twice. More time passed before they slumped against a wall, unable to lift their arms.

"Who am I fooling?" he asked, on the verge of crying. "I can't do this. I don't belong here."

She smiled sadly. "Neither do we."

"But you're good at it! You were guarding the door that evening. How many have you..." He trailed off.

"I'm a mother," Cetri pointed out.

He didn't know what to say, so just sat there with her, listening to the heartbeat of distant machines.

Days went by. Counted by astronomical clocks, they turned into rather abstract notions. Aric forced himself to visit the viewing room every day before work. It was harder every time. Kissa assured him it was too early to feel the lack of sunlight. That helped little. There was no need for the young man to work, either, Kissa also said. Aric had done much for the undercity already. And there were new arrivals to shoulder the burden.

That was what bothered Aric the most.

Even Kissa had taken to wearing a dagger at all times, supposedly to follow upper city fashion. It looked out of place in the common room, as Fanti sat with Oloni, practicing letters with chalk and slate. Aric watched with interest: the little girl was in fact learning faster than him. From across the idle firepit, Cetri made a sign of encouragement.

They all looked up when someone else came in: a red-haired boy, even younger than Aric, wearing the remains of a uniform, the same way he had at first. The boy was balancing a large tray with a couple of pitchers and half a dozen cups. He carefully set it down by the firepit and made five drinks that sizzled colorfully before offering them around. Then he stared in puzzlement at the remaining cup and made to leave.

The boy hadn't looked up once in all this time. Aric knew fear when he saw it.

"Sit and drink with us," the young man said, tugging at the boy's sleeve. The latter resisted weakly at first, then yielded. Aric emptied the pitchers in the sixth cup. "What's your name?"

"Ceral, sir." The boy accepted his cup meekly, and sipped. His eyes went wide.

"You don't need to call me sir. I'm Aric. Where are you from, Ceral?"

"Nevera." That didn't need any explanation. It was the second-largest city after the capital, and arguably richer.

Aric nodded. "How long did you have left?"

"They were going to discharge me next month, but then the war happened. I... couldn't take it anymore." He gulped more of his drink.

"War may yet reach us," Aric noted. "In fact it already has."

"I'll take my chances." Ceral emptied his cup. "Better get back to work. Thank you, s... Aric."

He picked up the tray and retreated with a bow. Nobody else had said a word. They reminded Aric of gawkers watching caged animals at the menagerie.

----

The ransom came through during the next day. The alchemical prowess of Night People was such that Prais could already walk, if slowly and half-carried. Aric rejected the suggestion that one of the spies they paid on the surface could make the trip. He wore his headscarf in a different style, face half covered, and a new cloak he'd sewn from the frayed end of a fabric roll. Even so, it was too dangerous for him to go anywhere close to the busier parts of town. The meeting was set near a side gate, from where he could easily get back to the mine entrance he had used once before.

Even from a bad angle, it was hard to miss how much the sea of tents beyond the ramparts had thinned out. The city was no longer seen as a safe haven. But where else could they go? Aric was tempted to simply join a caravan and find out. Assuming there was going to be another one.

Because the army was going to be back for sure. The former soldier and the wounded officer could agree on that much.

In the mean time, the city continued to change.

The City Guard had always been short-staffed at best. With a whole company's worth of soldiers leaving while their replacements never arrived, the desperate and the malicious were getting bolder. Soon, mercenaries could be seen patrolling the streets. And mercenaries had to be paid proper wages. New street vendors popped up everywhere, crowding out formerly peaceful public spaces. The populace wasn't getting any richer, and it showed in the thinning foot traffic. Hard to believe the city collected much tax money from that.

At least it gave the immigrants and the marginal more places to hang out. And that meant Aric could be out and about a little more, though he still couldn't brave the more important locations. Central square was best seen from below, in the optical pool.

Instead, he learned to appreciate the surrounding forest.

It was quiet among the trees at dawn, safe for the distant call of some bird that hadn't flown south yet. Even the wind died down beneath verdant crowns, leaving only the sun as it rose over a distant mountaintop, as if it was the source of all that lava. He'd sit there facing east, soaking up the light. Eyes closed, it was easy to imagine himself back home. He tried taking Ceral with him a few times, but the boy wasn't allowed out of the tunnels. Not yet.

Aric wasn't all alone up there however. For one thing, he'd made friends with the millers who were hiding a way into the undercity inside their home. It was a married couple, aging folk who gently lamented the way bigger mills upstream poisoned the river. Sleep didn't come so easily in their old age, and so it happened that they could entertain guests of the night. The young man didn't look any deeper. He found it hard enough not to cry when they, too, asked him to stay.

----

"Do you like that boy?"

"What do you mean, Meister?" Aric looked up from the pieces of fabric strewn across his work table and turned down the lamp somewhat, to make the unexpected visitor more comfortable. He would have loved to have a lightning lantern, but those were luxuries even for Night People. And it wasn't as if his work felt especially valuable, even though he'd been assured of the contrary. Those who worked hard to keep the city's machinery working appreciated having someone to take care of everything else for them.

"Come on. I couldn't possibly miss the way you look at Ceral. All the time you spend with him. It's made you so much happier as of late."

The young man felt his ear grow hot. "Not in that way! He's almost my age. We share songs and stories. Besides, there's... Never mind."

"If you say so." Kissa looked relieved and disappointed at the same time. "Still, if you'd rather bunk with him instead..."

"I'll think about it," Aric said quickly. He sighed. "Meister... I've been asking around in case there's a caravan going south."

"Any luck so far?"

"You... you don't mind?"

Kissa walked in and sat on a spare chair. "You'll be missed if you go. That doesn't mean we'll try to stop you."

"Can I take Ceral with me?"

"Ask him, not me." Kissa laughed at the young man's surprised expression. "They asked for asylum, remember? Ceral didn't even hurt anyone."

Aric scooped him up in a big hug. "Thank you! Er, I mean."

"You're welcome." Kissa's voice hadn't sounded so sad in a long time.

The young man didn't always go to the training room after work, but whenever he did, Ceral was there to cheer him on. Sometimes Cetri, too, when she wasn't busy with other duties, or for that matter the little one. They'd take turns shooting hand crossbows at painted targets; the boy wasn't permitted to touch a weapon. Aric had a knack for it, unlike with bladework, and soon started winning the informal contests.

"You don't have to, you know," she told him one time.

"They'll be back." He was starting to like the way she talked.

"Plenty of fighters down here," insisted Cetri.

He pointed at the ceiling. "And up there?"

She gave him a serious look. "You're leaving, then?"

"Don't you start now!" He pushed past her to hang up the weapon on its rack. When he returned, there were tears in his eyes. "I can't stay like this. Torn between two worlds. I have to choose."

The woman nodded slowly. "Oloni will miss you."

"I'll miss her too." He looked at Ceral, who stood by the doorway, wringing his hands.

"But you have family." Cetri followed his gaze. "And you?"

"My freedom is forfeit, ma'am," stammered Ceral. "Home is too far, anyway."

She pressed on. "What if you could go free?" They hadn't told him yet.

The boy turned towards Aric instead. "I'd go with you. Anywhere."

Meanwhile they only moved as far as the tunnel where Cetri and Fanti dwelled. The carpets on the walls were threadbare; plain curtains hung three arm's lengths apart, separating the living spaces. One of them had been freed recently, though Aric never learned the fate of the previous occupants. To reach their own partition, one had to walk the narrow pathway left along the far wall, while avoiding to look sideways. Thankfully he and Ceral only had to pass by the two women that way. There was another couple, man and woman, beyond the next curtain, and more people occupied the deeper half, but hardly any children apart from Oloni.

It was just like the long house Aric's family owned. Only the walls were even thinner. To his surprise, the usually meek Ceral actually complained.

"My room at home was smaller than this," the boy said, "but at least it had a door."

There was no way to keep their beddings separate, either, not if they wanted to also have room for a few belongings. Both were surprised at how comfortable they felt with each other. When bath time came, Ceral insisted to wash Aric's back.

That felt amazing, if not so much deserved.

It was hard to say who gained the most from the move. Maybe Oloni, who was delighted to have new neighbors willing to play with her. The women, too, didn't exactly mind having someone to leave the little girl with when they went on guard duty or a raid at bad times. And the young men had someone to help them forget their troubles for a while now and then.

Only Kissa had grown more distant, showing up less often in the common room, looking tired and preoccupied when he did, usually briefly.

"It's not your fault," Fanti told them at one point. "The Burgmeisters' plot wasn't derailed for long. He has many strings to pull."

"But... What's it to you either way?" asked Aric.

Her expression darkened. "This ambition of theirs can only bring the city to ruin. Day People can simply move someplace else. But we... alone we die off."

"Don't they also need you?"

"Only while there's a city to keep running."

"Is it even wise to question the decisions of those in high stations like that?" interjected Ceral.

"Perhaps if we were alone in this." Kissa had entered without a sound. "But people of even higher station are concerned. The hard part has been conveying messages. And now with the war it's even harder."

"We can deliver a letter for you when we go." Aric said quickly, ignoring Ceral's puzzled look.

Kissa shook his head. "You don't want to be caught with it. And you'd be going the wrong way in the first place. But we can talk when you find a caravan."

That only took a few more days after all.

Aric woke up in the sound of looms. One couldn't sleep in while living in the tunnels. He'd dreamed of securing passage with a south-bound caravan. No, wait, it hadn't been a dream. That had actually happened in early morning. He wanted to shake Ceral awake and tell him right away, but he was already alone. The boy must have been on kitchen duty that evening. The women weren't in the neighboring partition either. The young man barely took the time to put on his pants before rushing outside. As he feared, Kissa wasn't in his niche either. On a whim, he took the cable car all the way up, for all it still gave him a shiver down the spine. The guards waved him into the viewing room with little ceremony. He didn't need to see the faces of those gathered to know something was horribly amiss.

Cetri only looked up long enough to recognize him and shuffle over. Aric leaned over the pool and couldn't believe his eyes.

A frenzy of flags fluttered furiously in front of the ramparts, and the great ballistae took turns shooting arcs of purple fire towards them. The young man gasped: those were coats of arms from the kingdom! Across the room from him, Kissa adjusted his eyepiece; as that didn't seem to help, he proceeded to turn various brass wheels set in the walls. The image in the pool tilted and refocused somewhat, enough to reveal that the engines of death were firing over the royal army, at different, distant banners coming through the hills. It didn't seem to slow them down much at all.

----

Poor Kraft followed them all the way to the tunnel mouth, meowling pathetically as if he wasn't going to ever see them again. Ceral was this close to turning back on the spot. It took them both strength to go ahead. In the daylight, Aric couldn't fail to notice the shiny streaks in the boy's hair, or how his blue eyes had acquired new depths. The changes were still reversible at this point, according to Kissa. Hopefully the man was right. It wasn't as if people got to escape the underground for good all that often.

The air was hazier than it had been in a while. No wonder the optical pool hadn't been much help. From up close, the naked eye could at least spot the royal troops massing in front of the gates, and for some reason failing to come in. City guards and mercenaries alike were gathered behind the ramparts, instead of up there preparing to meet the siege head-on. As the two young men walked to the ragged end of the promenade, and down from there, unnoticed in the flurry of preparations taking place around them, it became apparent that the two sides were facing off, one trying to get the gates open, the other to keep them closed. The shouting match was audible by now, but it seemed to have no winner.

Until, that is, the captain of the guard herself marched in, splitting the crowd like the prow of a warship through foamy seas.

The mercenary leader shrank from her presence. Soon, the racket of chains winding on capstans announced the opening of gates, and the kingdom's troops started pouring in: battered, bloodied, but still majestic. Just in time, too. Overhead, the ballistae were slowing down, now shooting ordinary spears more often than not.

Only now could Aric tell that many of the arriving soldiers did not, in fact, carry the royal banner. Their coat of arms looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite place them at the moment. It was a question for another time anyway. People rushed to help riders dismount, while officers of the guard directed them to take defensive positions. Food, water and bandages would have to be distributed while waiting for combat.

Amidst the frantic activity, hardly anyone noticed a group of mercenaries converging on the captain of the guard, whom they set about to disarm and lead away at sword point, under the direction of a thin old man with a scowl frozen on his face. Hardly anyone except for Aric, but neither him nor Ceral could do much about it. Everyone was too busy to help even if explaining the situation wouldn't have taken much too long. They at least tried to follow from a distance, in the hope of figuring out where she was being taken. And that was when they got caught. Again. Someone must have spread Aric's description around.

It wasn't even someone in uniform this time, he noted bitterly. Most likely one of those the city employed for dirty jobs. A couple of accomplices held Ceral at bay, while the brute dragged Aric away with muscular arms, waving a short blade dangerously close to his face. He scanned the crowd in desperation, but anyone who wasn't terribly busy conspicuously pretended to be.

A crossbow twanged. Aric's would-be captor was left staring at his sword arm, now pinned to a nearby pole. The young man only knew one person who could shoot like that.

It was Tani, all right, who was opening her visor right now, several paces away. And if that was Tani, the colors she was wearing could only be those of House Taodar. Which in turn meant the man dismounting behind her must have been...

Aric fell to his knees, head bowed, Ceral following suit out of habit. It was Lord Taodar himself who helped them up.

Now that was someone to whom they could explain the treachery they'd just witnessed. But by then the mercenaries were long gone. Or were they? By chance, Ceral's keen eye spotted one of them mingling with the throng of people who still found things to do near the gate. They dove into the crowd like a whirlwind. With a wicked curved dagger against her throat, the woman was quick to spill what they needed to know.

Tani's father lent his own crossbow to the young man before going to oversee the defense efforts, and she led her own bodyguards in pursuit of Aric, who strode purposefully towards the stairs and one end of the promenade. There sat the guardhouse where he'd spent so many hours after patrol. Only now it swarmed with grim, burly fighters kitted in mismatched gear. Those were people who saw combat often, and didn't give much thought to blood or life.

Repeating crossbows could shoot a dozen bolts a minute if you didn't care much about aiming. They didn't even hold that many at once. Nor did they need to. In good hands, such a weapon became a veritable instrument of terror. A squad of determined warriors assaulted the small building, plowing through its occupiers. The captain herself didn't waste any time, proceeding to crack heads the moment she realized rescue was on the way.

Only when the coast was clear did they have time to survey the ramparts. It was immediately apparent that the battle wasn't going well for the city's valiant defenders, new and old alike. They ached to go down there. They knew better than to think their small band would make much of a difference.

In the dwindling daylight, Aric led them to the mouth of the nearest tunnel. They didn't have to march in very far before encountering a war party of the Night People. Their spies on the surface must have been doing their job for once. The young man readily accepted a quiver of alchemic bolts for his shooter, and a hardened leather apron with glowing symbols carved into it. Not exactly a fitted breastplate, but it would do.

Enemies were intruding upon the city. They were about to face its vengeful ghosts.

----

The underground council chamber was never going to be the same again. The massive furniture remained ever so creaky. The floor, marked with soot and darker stains no amount of scrubbing could fully remove. Of the three elders, Aric remarked, one was now crippled, and he could swear another was new. It was hard to tell: they kept their faces covered even at home. Doubly so with guests around, however important and trusted.

Across the table from them sat Lord Taodar, looking tired, but strong and proud. Next to him, Tani, all quiet and serious, her round face contrasting with her father's weathered traits. For once, Kissa looked every bit the mysterious mastermind, able to vanish into shadows at any moment and strike from hiding. Only the captain of the guard seemed out of place, overwhelmed and intimidated. So did Ceral for that matter, even as the two couldn't be more different in appearance.

"I was worried when my daughter returned to me without the expected message, Meister." Taodar spoke calmly, but firmly. "Imagine my surprise when a letter arrived with the seal of a minor house in Ibra. An old connection?"

Kissa smiled. "A new one, in fact. Thanks to Aric here. A strange story, for another time."

"Speaking of which." Taodar nodded his head in Aric's direction. "I owe you thanks for being a friend to Tani. She had to pass for an ordinary conscript, so we couldn't ask for special treatment. My mistake was failing to anticipate the hardships endured by commoners in the military."

The young warrior nodded his head timidly.

"Forgive me," Ceral ventured, "but how did you know to come with an army? And how was the enemy able to venture so deep into our lands?"

Taodar tapped his fingers together, pondering the answer. "In their wisdom, our royal highness determined that the city would be able to withstand a siege should the enemy outmaneuver the bulk of our armies while we were out there striking at their centers of power. Fortunately I have eyes and ears everywhere, and swift riders."

At long last, the captain leaned forward, clearing her throat. "So what happens now? I'm relieved of my duty, and technically still under arrest."

Tani smiled. "Oh, I do believe the Lord Mayor has come to understand how much he still needs the rest of the kingdom. Besides, it was mostly the Chief Justice who had it in for you. And she's now... permanently indisposed."

The middle elder raised a hand. "You serve the city just like we do, Captain. And we'll always need friends among the Day People. May we ask for a favor in this regard, Mylord?" The other two nodded their support, expressions impenetrable behind fabric masks.

"By all means," Taodar said gracefully.

"Then let us rest and rejoice. Last night was a long one."

The common rooms could not contain all the people, so the celebration spilled out into the corridors. Oloni and Kraft kept chasing each other around the captain. Somehow they both ended up in the big woman's lap, to her surprise and awkwardness. In Kissa's niche, he and Taodar exchanged books; the former got one of recipes, exquisitely typeset and bound. He wanted to go try one right away, but every nearby firepit was in use. Somewhere, Fanti gushed over Tani's fine rapier. And all over the place there was music, hot drinks, soft cushions, games... Only the looms were silent for once.

In a corner, Ceral and Aric leaned against each other.

"Is it real?" asked the boy. "Are we really going away from here?"

Aric smiled. "Hard to believe, isn't it? I keep fearing something else will happen at the last moment."

"Shush. You'll worry yourself sick. Tell me, what is your home like?"

"It's quiet and verdant. Wheat fields as far as the eye can see. Blue waves to one side, golden the other way. Sometimes there are terrible storms, but it's all the more sunny afterwards."

Ceral closed his eyes, trying to imagine the scene. "I've seen the ocean a few times, going with dad on business. Always angry. Roiling. The color of steel. Makes you want to huddle in a tavern and not come out."

"Back home, old sailors say water is water. The winds blowing over it make all the difference. Just like with people."

"Have you ever been at sea, Aric?"

The young warrior shook his head. "It takes hardy men at the best of times."

"You're hardy!" Ceral protested. "One would be a fool not to see it."

"Then I must be one. All my strength as of late has come from you."

"And mine from you. Perhaps that is the secret."

Around them, the party was winding down. Aric nodded. "Let's go get some sleep. The wagons won't wait."

A warm, purry lump of fluff came to settle between them later during the night, but the two were sound asleep by then.

----

Aric shivered and couldn't seem to stop, his cloak and tunic no match for the chill of a late autumn morning. He stomped lovingly mended boots on the packed earth, in a vain attempt to warm himself as he waited for the caravan to get moving. Above him, the first rays of the sun bathed terrace after terrace, bouncing off a myriad windows, like jewels slowly spun in the lavish light. As it swept over marble statues and brass ornaments, the city gradually woke up with the rhythm of hammers and the cries of peddlers, that rolled down the hills like spring water: repairing the broken walls was going to take a long time. Closer to them, people wrapped in rags, with their faces covered, were picking the recent battlefield clean, in-between erecting pyres for the dead. In the distance, a growing rumble signaled the big mills coming to life one by one, until they drowned out even the chatter of birds.

At his side, Ceral rather opted to focus on the preparations going on around them. Laden mules having their packs balanced; horses snorting and pounding the ground as they were being hitched to wagons. A red-faced lad chasing a chicken that had somehow escaped her bonds and now seemed intent on taking her chances with the local birds of prey instead. Concerned mothers trying to herd little children who might as well have been cats.

One girl in particular drew his attention, about the same age and build as Oloni, hair so blond it could pass for white, skin as pale as his own. They were both going to have a hard time in the south. At least the coming winter would hopefully give them leisure to acclimate. He listened curiously to her unfamiliar language, resolving to ask Aric for lessons. Few others on the caravan had bothered to learn even the basics, despite having been in this place for longer.

The sun was all the way above the horizon by the time everything was in order. The shouted report traveled mouth to ear from all the way in the rear to the distant first wagons. Whips cracked, animals strained, and in the creaking of wheels the entire convoy lurched into motion, snaking down the road. Much too soon, the city hid from view behind a bend. Only the remote rivers of fire remained. By noon they should be out of the hills and turn right, away from the dust and smoke. Away from worries.

Ceral looked behind just as Aric was hurrying to catch up. One look in each other's eyes, and they knew everything would be all right forever more. They went on shoulder to shoulder, feeling unstoppable.

They had already proven themselves. It was time to go home.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 21 January 2019}}

User:Claude LeChat

2021-02-24T07:04:58Z

Claude LeChat: Improved wording.

{{my stories}} [[Category:Author]]

== About me ==

I'm a recent furry, but lifelong speculative fiction reader, and now a writer too. (As a hobby, mind you.) However, I should probably warn you that I'm somewhat of an outsider to the TF community, drawn here by friends and a number of awesome stories.

== Contacting me ==

I can be most readily be found on [https://meow.social/@claude Mastodon], [https://claudeb.dreamwidth.org/ DreamWidth] and [https://nosycat.neocities.org/ Neocities]. Or you can e-mail me via Shifti (I think).

== My stories ==

=== Original ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Dragon's Wish|Dragon's Wish]]: a fantasy flash fiction.
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf With the Red Cap|The Wolf With the Red Cap]]: a Rule 63 version of the famous story, with a bit of TF thrown in (short).
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Invader|Invader]]: in order to live on Earth, an alien must give up his entire past (short).

----

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet|Parole Planet]]: science fiction novelette about a young man stranded on a distant planet, among strangers with odd customs... that will slowly change him.
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Kingdom of the Fire River|Kingdom of the Fire River]]: Clockpunk fantasy novella in which a young soldier discovers a hidden world literally right under his feet. A refuge from disasters, unrest and war. But hide there for too long, and it's forever.

=== FreeRIDErs ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] (a stand-alone [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|FreeRIDErs]] story -- can be read on its own without knowing anything about the setting);
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] (a shorter sequel/epilogue of sorts to ''Alpha Camp'');
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]] (third story in the ''Alpha Camp'' series).

----

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling|Imperfect Coupling]]: a single (and short) TG story that requires familiarity with the setting, unlike the others.

Feedback on my stories is welcome, but I ''will'' argue with you: I don't do things without a good reason.

== FreeRIDErs humor ==

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Uplift? 
A: MPs come to work wearing pants.

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Aloha? 
A: MPs come to work wearing ''something''.

Q: How do you know it's Casual Friday in Nextus? 
A: There must be some mistake. In Nextus they have Casual ''Monday''.

Why did the RIDE cross the road? Because the road was of the opposite sex.

== Favorites ==

(from Shifti)

* Pretty much anything from the aforementioned FreeRIDErs setting.
* [[User:Sturmovik/Extracted|Extracted]], and other stories from Sturmovik's [[United Federation of Alternate Worlds]] setting.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Destinies|Destinies]], an awesome sci-fi novel by the late Michael Bard, fairly hard SF until near the end. Reminiscent of A.E. Van Vogt and Arthur C. Clarke, except much better written.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Diary_of_a_Centaur_in_a_Human's_World|Diary of a Centaur in a Human's World]], by the same author. Furry transformation done right for a change, with all the body horror it would normally involve.
* Joysweeper's [[501st]] and [[Femtroopers]], from the Xanadu series. Deep psychological TF fiction in an utterly surreal setting.
* [[Refamiliarization]], by Xodiac, another Xanadu story.

User:Claude LeChat/Kingdom of the Fire River

2021-02-24T07:00:25Z

Claude LeChat: Created.

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Fantasy]] [[Category:Human]] [[Category:Aquatic]]

{{title
|name=Kingdom of the Fire River
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|In loving memory of my kitty Dutza, who was with me for 20 long years, and died the day before I could finish writing this story. May she rest in peace.}}

{{dropcap|A}}ric shivered and couldn't seem to stop, the flimsy uniform of a city guard unable to protect him from the cold wind that blew down the mountainside, turning the otherwise warm night into a first breath of the coming autumn. He stomped ill-fitting boots on the pavement, in a vain attempt to warm himself as he patrolled the lower promenade. Above him, terrace after terrace rose like rapids in a river of stone, proud palaces reduced to ghostly shadows at that dark hour. Aric could swear nights were getting darker by the season, despite the lamps perched on every street corner, whose incessant humming drowned any other noise except for the gurgling of falling water that powered them. He clutched the repeating crossbow more tightly, not feeling any safer despite the deadly weapon in his hands. One can hardly shoot an enemy not seen or heard. He'd been told stories about the things prowling that unfamiliar city after sunset, a city not his own. Conscripts never got to serve anywhere near where they lived. Not without rich parents to pull strings, and then their sons and daughters were more likely to be exempted entirely. The law, after all, applies equally to all citizens: one only needs to pay the usual bribe.

A distant rumble drew his gaze in the opposite direction. Far on the horizon, across moonlit plains, a new geyser of fire had sprung forth, joining several others. Glowing rivulets flowed down slopes too far to distinguish, weaving a tapestry of flaming death, and he could swear those sights grew closer by the day. New caravans would soon arrive from the east, carrying more people with strange clothes and strange languages. It was all too easy to blame them for the growing hardships, rather than the clouds of ash and smoke that preceded them. Aric couldn't remember the last time he'd seen more than a handful of stars at once, and crops were worse than in any written record. His twentieth birthday had been gloomy, not that he felt like celebrating in the garrison, with bullish squad mates and icky food. How was he even expected to steady a crossbow on a nearly empty stomach, it was better not to ask his officers. They seemed to think it was a great honor to fight for the country. Perhaps because of all the military supplies they carted away to their own families, out the back door and under wraps.

Somewhere above, a bell rang twice, waking Aric from his reverie. Where was that ass of a sergeant anyway? He'd gone to relieve himself, defying regulations, and hadn't come back yet. Aric marched back along his route, scanning the darkness carefully. No lights shone in the windows so close to the gates: less wealthy denizens had to settle for candles and oil lamps, which weren't to be wasted. The waning crescent overhead was enough to see by if anything tried to move in the open, but narrow staircases winding their way among pine trees were another story.

Aric didn't really expect any trouble. Thieves avoided tangling with the guard as a general rule, while any enemy resourceful enough to climb over the ramparts undetected would have bigger fish to fry. And the refugees huddling in tents outside the gates were probably no more dishonest on average than any local, malicious rumors aside. He could still be punished if anyone who didn't belong slipped past him. So he made a point of walking noisily, even rattling a few doors he knew didn't close well. It all failed to elicit reactions, and by now he was nearing the end of his patrol area. There. Someone was waiting for him, standing immobile against a tall fence. Someone too short and slim to be the sergeant. Two someones. No, three, with silvery hair and pale skin, as he couldn't help but notice as they stepped out of hiding to surround him. But... Night People were a fairy tale! The kind you tell young children to scare them straight.

These here didn't seem to know they were supposed to stay in a story.

It was all Aric could do not to panic. His training had been little more than empty ritual. Oh, he was a decent shot at the range, but that was in broad daylight, with all the targets neatly aligned in front of him. Not dancing around with deceiving motions, as if to spin a web out of the breeze itself.

He managed to loose one bolt before agile, sneaky arms grabbed him from behind, and a smell like ten thousand different spices at once assaulted his nostrils. The bolt even struck true.

----

Aric slept, and dreamed of a long tunnel. A strong air current from behind held him aloft, arms outstretched. His feet only touched the ground now and then, yet he made quick progress. Openings flashed by on either side, curious faces peeking out, but he couldn't stop to look more closely. Water dripped from above, running in cold streaks down his face. It pooled on the uneven ground, making him slip yet not fall. Tattered shadows danced madly in his peripheral vision, making it hard to tell shapes and sizes. Past a richly carved and painted archway, the air grew warmer, while a steady heartbeat not of his own became noticeable.

It hadn't been a dream.

He was lying on a soft, smooth floor at the intersection of three or four corridors. A column in the middle was styled to resemble a tree holding the ceiling up with its branches. In the distance, giant wheels turned in a bluish, intermittent glare. His head pounded, only it didn't come from inside his head. Sitting up was a chore.

Heavy curtains on the wall were pulled open, revealing a niche with carpeted insides. A lamp hung from the ceiling above a chest whose flat top held a tray with a tea set. In the far corner, a pile of cushions was currently occupied by a fat orange cat snoozing without a care. But most fascinating was the man who waited silently, lost in thought. Long gray hair with a silvery sheen that couldn't be natural framed a pale face with eyes big and dark. His bare chest was lean, with well-toned muscles; below the waist, tightly wrapped leggings the color of summer night still had pine needles caught in the seams. Only when he moved did Aric notice the bandage soaked in blood on the man's left arm.

"That was a good shot," stated the latter. He winced. "What's your name?"

"A... Aric. Aric Padari," the young soldier heard his own voice answering.

"Odd choice for a heir of House Taodar."

"What?" Aric was vaguely aware that it wasn't a good time for polite conversation. More like running away screaming. But his body wouldn't listen.

The man leaned forward. "House Taodar? Only the third down from the royal family? I was assured you were of their line."

An image flashed before Aric's eyes. The red-haired soldier from fifth company, where the girls were. Even more of a fish out of water than he was. Only there because her noble father apparently believed hardships built character or some such.

"You leave Tani alone!" he shouted hoarsely, lunging forward. Two other Night People were by his side in an instant, short curved daggers at either hand. Aric's traitorous limbs seized up before the weapons were needed. "She's out of your reach anyway. Transferred. They swapped us around at the last moment."

His three captors exchanged meaningful looks. "So much for counting on that bribe-guzzler to deliver what we paid for. Where is he, anyway?"

"The sergeant? ... You mean him, too? ..." The fog on Aric's brain was clearing up by the minute. "Who are you? Where are we? What's going on here?"

The man laughed. "You are brave, young Aric! Most of your fellow Day People would say ignorance is bliss. Mark my words, we shall meet again. But for now you must return to your own world. The night isn't young anymore."

"Is it wise to let him go, Meister?" asked one of the others.

"Oh, I should hope we can take a chance now and then. Besides," the man added, staring down Aric, "he is known to us now."

Aric staggered under the implications. Not so much the barely veiled threat as all he had learned in those few moments. His thoughts were spinning furiously. Loud buzzing filled his ears, dark clouds covered his field of view, and his knees buckled. For some reason he didn't hit the floor. The smell from earlier returned, only this time it brought no dreams to speak of.

He woke up as the distant bell rang thrice, cold and sore under the open sky. Still nothing stirred on the promenade, and the crossbow was by his side again, the bolt he'd fired stuck in a nearby tree. For some reason, the front of his shirt reeked of spirits. He found the discarded flask a few paces away.

It was all he could do to stumble the rest of the way to the guard booth and sound the alarm.

----

Punishment was to be expected after such a watch, though in the end it wasn't much different from normal army life: a day of carrying logs to be made into firewood for the still-distant winter; a night of running up and down a muddy slope with an angry officer barking random orders. Then he was taken off guard duty in favor of rolling barrels and stacking bags at the food store. If rations got any worse, he couldn't tell. Most curious was how interested the captain of the guard was to hear his story, after the manner everyone insisted Aric had been drunk out of his mind and imagining it all.

The sergeant never turned up again, either. The family he had in town had vacated their rented rooms, and the landlord wasn't in the business of asking questions. A replacement was hired soon enough, then it was back to the old routine. Or was it? Aric soon found that he could no longer unsee the little things he used to dismiss as quirks: a grotto behind a decorative fountain, protected by a locked grate, that from outside just seemed to go on and on; an imposing villa at the end of a side street, as well maintained as it was unused; the clock tower in the central square, whose doors were all shuttered, yet the century-old mechanism ticked away.

Change marked the streets as well. People from the east were everywhere, with their big hats and heavy coats. Their blond hair and blue eyes made Aric even more aware of his own dark complexion than he usually was, this far from his native seaside town in the south. It took an effort to remember that any stares were more likely to be directed at his shiny helmet and shooter. At least they were issued with studded vests for daytime patrol in the crowds, but the short swords they were supposed to carry were in equally short supply.

People still appeared to find the Guard intimidating enough. Aric could only hope they didn't realize how afraid he was that anyone in the crowd might have a knife. Even though now he knew first hand what his own bolts could do.

One evening after curfew they were ordered out of the barracks again and marched quietly to the food stores, following steep side streets by torchlight. There were big jars of a shape the young soldier had never seen before. A man not in uniform had them load a storeroom's worth of them onto carts that they strained to pull along meandering roads, out a side gate and up to what looked like a mine entrance. Aric doubted he could have found the place again the next day. Only after unloading were they allowed to rest for a brief while. Then each of them had to pick up a jar and head down the tunnel.

It wasn't a mine. Maybe it had been once.

Cold air blew on their backs, all but pushing them forward. Water trickled down the walls in places; it had an oily sheen wherever torches reflected on a puddle. Ghostly faces watched them pass from side openings, the glint of short curved blades ever present. Beyond an ornate arch, they were met by the sound of ten thousand angry bees, but it was just a lamp like those in the city above, brightening a kind of antechamber. Only then could Aric see that the jars they carried were translucent, full of exotic fruit along with more troubling shapes. The smaller ones contained viscous fluids that clung to the insides of the glass in strange patterns.

Ahead of him, another soldier wobbled. The boy's knees buckled, and he almost dropped his load, but managed to set it down gently before collapsing against a column, red-faced and breathing heavily. Then the new sergeant was towering over him.

"Be careful, you clumsy peasant! This ain't no bale of hay!" He calmed down somewhat seeing all was in order. "Tired already? Look at him, half your size and hasn't even broken a sweat."

The sergeant's chin was pointing at Aric, who very much wanted to vanish into a side tunnel at the moment. But that's where Night People were now coming from, wearing leather aprons and unsettling eyepieces.

"Pull any more crap and I leave without you," added the officer. "Goes for all of you if you flap your pie holes about what you saw."

The red-faced boy was upright in the blink of an eye, hoisting up his load. They didn't have much farther to go. On the way out, Aric fancied he could see a bare-chested man with a bandaged arm watching him from behind a curtain, but the troop trundled onward too quickly.

----

It was Aric's final day in the city.

The news had come soon after their nocturnal incursion. They were all being dispatched as the escort of a caravan bound for the capital, to be replaced by new recruits. That brought relief, but also sadness. He'd grown fond of the tall buildings with stone walls of many colors, grand entrances flanked by statues, and bridges that swung back and forth, set into motion by the very water flowing beneath them. The young soldier hadn't seen enough, and now was never going to have another chance.

And what a day! For once, the sun was shining, chasing haze from the air. Birds were chirping, the air was abuzz with insects, while the smell of pine needles was overpowering. Deep below his feet, storm sewers howled with overflow from a recent rain, the first in too many months. That wasn't normal, locals had assured him: food had to be brought into the city from longer distances with each passing season, and their valuable exports could only stretch so far in compensation.

Looking back, he could see it easily: the hungry, begging for scraps in the market; the homeless, taking shelter in crumbling ruins while lofty halls stood empty; the work gangs, marching every morning into mills from which clouds of noxious dust billowed out, in the clacking and clattering of waterwheels, to come out only at sundown if at all. There didn't seem to be any prisons; there never seemed to be any bodies, either.

None of that could stop people from marking the first day of autumn. Aric watched the procession advancing towards him, larger by the moment as residents came out of their houses to join the clergy. They walked by in pious silence, led by stern-looking women in plain white robes, only muttering short prayers as they bowed, hands joined, on their way past a wellspring covered in moss. It wasn't at all like back home, where a flower-laden priestess and her youthful acolytes led a cheerful parade, blessing every household along the way with song and dance.

Aric grew bored as the last stragglers moved past his designated position and on to the next stairs of note. They had a long ascent to the Lord Mayor's palace at the top if they were to pass by each of the seven temples. He turned to look downwards, past the promenade, at the distant ramparts and the sea of tents beyond. Metallic reflections caught his eye: the clockwork ballistae perched atop of the gate towers pivoted back and forth, their deadly load held in place by long brass tubes. It made no sense. Tani had explained to him how stockpiling alchemical fire was more dangerous for its wielders than any possible enemy. And what enemy did they have? Surely the kingdom's only neighbors to the east were too busy escaping fiery doom to consider conquest.

The promenade he presently overlooked was filling with those cityfolk who would rather party than make offerings to greet the new season. Aric looked left and right to where his squad mates were supposed to be posted... and couldn't see them. He proceeded slowly towards the bend in the street that would bring him to the next terrace down. There! A flash of color in the corner of his eye. A... fat orange cat? He took several steps in pursuit of the familiar-looking creature before catching himself. Quite a few in fact.

A thunderclap from behind threw him to the ground, ears ringing. Soon it was raining cobblestones, and he crawled desperately on knees and elbows in search of shelter. The pavement tilted and went out from under him. Aric slid down into darkness, a fall that didn't seem to have an end.

----

It was dark, and everything hurt. He tried to get up. The sharp rocks supporting his body rattled, but stayed put. As his eyes began to adjust, it became apparent that the terrible din which made it so hard to think was caused by water rushing out of broken pipes, only to disappear into the depths off the edges of light. Wait, what? A look up revealed a ragged hole far above. He squinted at the brilliant rays pouring from it, obscured now and then by human shapes. Were they shouting? Aric couldn't quite hear, and his own voice came out squeaky. Trying to climb the incline only resulted in other rocks tumbling down. Maybe if a rope were to be lowered, but instead, whoever was up there left altogether after a while.

He waited until the hunger and chilly air started gnawing at him. Outside, the sun moved in the sky. Once or twice he heard what might have been the call of bells. Nothing else happened. It wasn't until he got up to leave that he saw a hand poking out from a pile of heavier boulders. The hand was limp, and getting cold.

Light reflecting off the furious water shimmered on the rock face across the torrent, underscoring row after row of doorways and windows shrouded in eternal night. Maybe that's where the boatman would take Aric if he failed to get out alive, otherwise there was no obvious way to reach them. In the other direction, a ledge not much higher up from his spot led to what looked like stairs.

A cautious ascent that left him sweaty and trembling put Aric within an arm's length of his objective. His next step found no purchase; stiff fingers couldn't latch onto an edge. The young soldier tumbled deeper down, accompanied by a few small rocks and many deafening echoes.

There wasn't a spot on his battered flesh that wasn't sore now. At least he was on solid ground for a change. It was pitch black too, but by now he knew what kind of monsters lurked in those sunless reaches. Better to die seeing a human face.

That thought spurred him into action. Probing around with touch and hearing uncovered a narrow passage with smooth walls. He followed it eagerly; the sound of water gradually fell behind, leaving only his pounding heart and ragged breath. Aric almost failed to notice when light returned, pale and feeble. How disappointing to finally see the tiny bright point at the top of a vertical shaft not much wider than his head.

His attention was drawn by a soft whine. A child lay in a heap on the mucky floor, among bits of garbage, sobbing tiredly. A child of the Night People. He sat down nearby, without a word. After some time, the little girl clambered into his arms and nestled there. He stroked her silvery hair absently. They were in a brick tube, large enough for him to stand with arms wide open. Pipes opened in the walls at various heights. By far the largest was the one he'd come through, but others may have been able to fit them.

"Hey," he said. "I'm Aric. What's your name?"

The girl sniffled. "Oloni."

"That's nice. It suits you. Listen, Oloni, which way did you come?"

She looked around and shrugged. He squeezed her shoulders. Other minutes passed. Squeaky sounds repeated insistently, as diminutive shapes skittered from hole to hole. They turned out to favor a wider crawlspace he'd taken for a shadow.

"Let's follow the rats," Aric suggested. Oloni nodded.

The already scarce light faded fast as they went deeper. The girl deftly avoided every obstacle regardless as they padded along on all fours. Aric had been falling behind for a while when she simply stopped.

"What is it?" he whispered. Instead of answering, she took his hand and guided him.

The way ahead was barred by fallen boulders. Rats may have been able to sneak between them, but not anything bigger. Aric leaned against the obstruction, groaning. It wasn't long before Oloni cuddled with him again.

Much later, they could hear stone scraping on stone. Then again, closer. It was coming from behind the barrier.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Hello!"

The next thing he did was cover his ears. When the echoes died down, Oloni tsked and rummaged on the ground. A hesitant series of clicks and taps told Aric she was banging rocks together.

To his surprise, a sure hand answered in the same fashion from afar. Clearly it was a code of some sort. A brief back-and-forth, then the scraping resumed. It was coming closer with agonizing slowness, but come it did, until a shower of pebbles let him know someone had broken through.

"There you are." a voice stated matter-of-factly. Aric tried in vain to locate its source.

"What's the matter?" asked another voice. "Oh... right."

With a hiss, a faint reddish glow came into being, and quickly grew to comfortable levels: a swirling globe of liquid light encased in an intricate brass frame. It illuminated a hand and face caked in dust, reaching towards them from behind a broken slab of stone.

"Mommy!" chirped Oloni, and slithered through to the other side. Aric followed slowly.

Past the dismantled obstruction, the ceiling rose gradually, until they could walk upright again. New light came from ahead, then they emerged into a corridor with soft, smooth floor and rounded edges. A pair of heavy blocks pivoted silently, hiding the opening they'd come through so well that Aric doubted his ability to find it later.

His rescuers were two of the same Night People who had abducted him the other week. It dawned on him at last that they had been women all along.

"Thank you," said the one holding little Oloni in her arms.

The other one examined her dirty, sweaty tunic with a frown. In one smooth move, she took it off. The breast-band underneath didn't look much better.

"Undress yourself," she told Aric.

"Why?!"

The woman wrinkled her nose. "You need a bath. We both do. Don't worry, there are partitions."

----

He woke up much later, lying on soft cushions, a warm vibrating lump pressed against his side. Aric opened his eyes. The now-familiar cat blinked slowly at him. He cautiously tried to pet the animal. Timid fingers were met with a wet nose.

"His name is Kraft. Seems to like you already."

The man Aric had talked to on his first night underground sat cross-legged on the thick carpet, watching steam form odd shapes as it came out of a teapot. He was wearing see-through robes that couldn't hide the scar on his arm where the bandage had been.

"I... I think he saved my life up there," Aric stammered. "Sounds crazy, but..."

"Cats work in mysterious ways," the man agreed. "How do you feel?"

"What's it to you?" Aric didn't quite succeed in sounding defiant. He sat up. With the curtains closed, the niche sought to wrap him in a velvety, colorful embrace. A mixture of smells taunted his nose. Bite-size rolls on a tray caught his eye, making his stomach gurgle.

"Thought so. Dig in," said the host, setting the example. Aric warily picked up the second fork. Before he knew it, the tray was empty.

"Thank you, er, Meister? What should I call you?"

The man pondered. "Oh, I collected a few names over the years. Drian of Ibra. Engi the Clockmaker. Or as of late just Kissa." He poured tea in two cups.

"Mine is a nickname that stuck," said Aric. "Because I'm prickly, my folks say."

Kissa sipped from his drink quickly, failing to conceal an amused smile. "Well, you can certainly sting."

The young soldier sputtered and squirmed.

"Aw, come on. I'm not angry with you. That whole night was a mess. You ought to have been forewarned, so as to put up a mock fight. Or rather your friend."

"Oh... What did you want with Tani anyway?"

"To hand over a message for her father."

Aric took a sip from his own cup. Then another. Its bitter fragrance filled his mouth, bringing with it the warmth of a summer day in the forest.

"You must be someone important, Meister Kissa. Do Night People rule the city?"

"No, the Burgmeisters rule. We *run* the burg for them. There's a difference."

"I don't understand."

"Come, I'll show you. Evening approaches fast by now. We have work to do."

At first Aric stopped every few steps to pull at his undergarments. His embarrassment soon faded: he was still overdressed compared to his host, who led the way self-assuredly. The whole place was more like one big dwelling, he noticed in passing. A dozen Night People often shared one tunnel closed at both ends with curtains. From somewhere came the staccato of looms, muffled by layers of air and fabric. At various intervals, slits in the walls admitted oblique rays, just when they seemed about to plunge into complete darkness. Fresh cracks extended from plenty of them.

Past one last bend in the corridor, a doorway led to the base of a shaft that climbed sideways through solid rock. Wooden rails affixed to the floor supported a small cart connected to long ropes that vanished into the distance, moved by man-sized wheels half buried in the floor through a system of pulleys. Part of the mechanism spun idly, waiting. Aric recoiled in horror.

Kissa regarded him impenetrably. "Would you rather take the stairs? It's a long way to the top."

Later, Aric wouldn't remember how he got in the cart, but only a nightmare punctuated by eerie visions flying by as they passed rounded openings: parts of an aqueduct; waterwheels and screws; pipes and valves; then more giant clockwork. It all ended in a kind of wide cave with numerous columns scattered throughout. Guards greeted them in front of a sculpted door.

"Now you know why we would rather do our work in hiding. Most people fear the sight of that which sets their world into motion. Like children staring at an ugly insect."

"I'm no child," Aric protested weakly.

"No, you are not. Avert your eyes," added Kissa. He put on a complicated eyepiece before crossing the threshold.

The room beyond was so bright it hurt. As his eyes adjusted, Aric could make out a waist-high basin, full of crystal-clear water, in the middle of a dome supported by arches. There was so much marble! Faceted globes in the ceiling shone like the sun, focusing beams of light onto the basin. He moved to see better, and his jaw dropped.

It was like looking out of the ornamental fountain in the central square at an angle. Blurry people stood or walked past, when they didn't reach straight into the image, distorting it, only to withdraw with cupped hands. Fragments of distant conversations could be made out if one listened carefully. The long shadow of the clock tower cleaved the image in two, pointing at a plume of smoke that still rose in the distance. Aric needed a moment to figure out where it came from.

"Is that the old arsenal?"

"Indeed. We are in luck. If it was the new one, there wouldn't be much of a burg left to work with."

"But... what caused it?"

"We have no idea yet. Our spies on the surface are mum, and the Burgmeisters are yet to summon us."

Aric frowned. "Can't we go up there and see for ourselves?"

"Not before night falls. We cannot stand daylight. And it's hard to learn much when most surface dwellers are asleep. Even if we could readily reveal our presence."

"I can do both."

Kissa turned to face him. The eyepiece made him look like the face of some mechanical spider god. "Will you help us, after everything we've done to you?"

The young soldier clearly hadn't considered the question. He nodded, first haltingly, then with more determination. The answer surprised him: an extended hand. They grasped each other's arms firmly.

----

The night air was pleasantly warm for once, or at any rate Aric's borrowed clothes did a better job of keeping him that way. The fires had died down at last, allowing smoke to scatter. It could have been an ordinary patrol but for the company he kept at the time. He was of average height among his own, yet still taller than most Night People, including the three walking with him right now. They snuck along trails that snaked down the mountain, to emerge among the poorer dwellings on the edge of town, and from there onto the lower terrace.

Half the promenade didn't exist anymore, and the other half was set up with tents. Not as they were made in the kingdom, but the foreign kind taking up much of the hills in front of the gates. The moans and cries they could hear from inside left little doubt as to their use. Tired nurses came out now and then for a sip of water and a breath of fresh air. Now Aric understood the point of his companions' disguises: with silky shirts and their hair wrapped in embroidered scarves, they could just pass for easterners in the light of torches. The wondrous lamps, pride of the city, were also out near the ruined area. Thankfully, the tunnels of the Night People were buried deeper this close to the ramparts, so damage had been limited underground. As for Aric, he at least looked like a proper royal subject, so it befell him to do most of the talking.

That was the scary part of the plan.

In the end, it wasn't so hard. Turned out that most locals couldn't tell one foreigner from another, and the other way around. They took turns picking out those injured who had been overlooked in the chaos. Tongues untied once pain faded away with the help of alchemical concoctions only nobility had access to otherwise. And not because Night People lacked the means to make more.

What they learned wasn't very useful. It had been an accident. No, sabotage. There were foreign spies in the city. No, royal spies. An invasion was brewing, unless it was civil war. Blame sat with all those newcomers who kept talking in their own language, when it wasn't Night People out to get everyone.

The latter seemed nonplussed. It was fine, they said. Those more in the know would help them sift through the rumors. One has to know what the talk of the street is to carry out convincing conversation. Aric supposed they knew best.

Guards stumbled upon them on the return trip.

The young soldier should have guessed they would double shifts after an incident like that, not to mention all the late activity. Hindsight wasn't much use however as they retreated along back alleys, awakened dogs joining the chorus of shouts chasing them. He was probably thought dead, his inner voice said, or else a deserter. Either way, there was no going back. He couldn't even tell if he knew any of the pursuers. Or whether that would have been better or worse.

A woman getting water from a well screamed and ran away, dropping her bucket. The Night People had shed their disguises. In the confusion, a tiny garden gate opened, admitting the four of them. Aric never got to thank the miller before they were ushered through a skillfully concealed passage under the stopped machinery, and into the safety of tunnels.

----

Aric's tunic was never going to look the same again, with all the new seams and patches. It was all for the best, he pondered, leaning closer to the nearby lamp to thread the needle. He wasn't a soldier anymore.

"Oh no," he muttered, "how am I ever going to get home now?"

Two paces away, Oloni abandoned her toys and crawled over to cuddle with him. The girl's mother and her companion looked up from their place near a firepit that burned with no flame or smoke. Only steam rose from the pot suspended above it, quickly drawn away by a hole in the ceiling. Their names were Cetri and Fanti; that was all the young man had learned so far.

"You could stay," Kissa said mildly. He put down a piece of slate covered in numbers and fiddled with fist-sized jars, sprinkling spices into the boiling pot. "Our numbers are dwindling as it is."

Aric surveyed the far side of the room, taken up by other Night People. New faces. Not even those he'd been outside with earlier. A couple returned his gaze. Most kept their eyes on the items they held. A musical instrument. A codex. A blueprint. Age didn't show on papery skin and silver hair, but it did on their hands. So much unlike his own.

"But I'm not even... I mean..."

"We weren't always like this either, Aric." Kissa poured the creamy contents of the pot into a bowl and gave it to him. "I was born on the banks of the Denere. Used to have curly black hair like yours."

"Do you ever miss it? Living in the sun and all?"

Kissa looked very sad all of a sudden. "Every single night. But you can miss something a lot and yet not want it back."

The young man opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind and focused on the bowl. It was still too hot.

"Anyway," resumed his host, "what did you find out? I want your version too."

So Aric recounted the night's events for him, as best as he remembered. Kissa listened intently, nodding now and then.

"Sounds like we missed all the fun." He looked at the two women. "Had to go and wake the captain of the guard personally."

"You know the captain of the guard?"

"Scary lady, isn't she?" Kissa winked at him, grinning playfully, then became serious once more. "But make no mistake, she's fair and just. Loyal to the burg above all."

"How else? She takes orders from the City Lords, er, Burgmeisters."

"Eh... lately I think they're only loyal to their own interests anymore."

"Oh." Aric drank from the bowl. The soup was smooth as silk, and delightfully filling. "So what did she have to say?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. She's being kept in the dark. But with the arsenal going up in flames, there seems to be a traitor within the Guard."

"Not those we're paying ourselves, either," added Fanti. Cetri smirked.

Aric drank more soup, deep in thought. "But a traitor sold to whom?"

"That's what we'd like to find out," Kissa spoke anew. "If the burg is in danger, we're in danger."

"Maybe I can find out more in broad daylight?" The young man seemed surprised that the bowl was nearly empty.

"You've risked enough tonight."

Aric didn't say anything. He returned the empty dish, and picked up his tunic again, to examine it in the reddish lamplight. It looked silly with all those colorful patches, but that was as good as he could make it.

"Good work," Fanti praised him. "Where did you learn the trade?"

"At home. Mother is a seamstress."

"Planning to follow in her footsteps?"

"Oh no. That's a woman's job. Father threatens to kick me out of the house as it is. Says I'm just another mouth to feed."

"I didn't know there was such a thing as a woman's job," Fanti quipped. "Where do you draw the line?"

The young man got all tongue-tied.

"Well," said Kissa after a while, "I'd better go inspect the works. Thanks for letting me use your stuff, Cetri."

"Always welcome," she replied, returning her own bowl to the growing pile.

"Can I come with you, Meister?" Aric asked.

"By all means."

Not far out of the room, past a couple of bends in the twisty tunnels, narrow stairs wound their way through the rock like a corkscrew. Instead of going down to more private quarters, Kissa turned upwards. Sounds of activity soon grew louder, puffs of dust and smoke escaping from doorways now and then. Behind them were workshops of various kinds. Aric's newly repaired tunic soon acquired the gleam of mica dust, and a clasp made of a broken cogwheel, as his host talked to the workers and introduced him. There was even an alchemic laboratory at one point, the room's contorted shape mirrored in the glassware strewn on tables. On the way back, he spotted on the shelves of a storeroom large jars with shapes he'd seen only once before. Kissa patted him on the shoulder, but said nothing.

"Where am I going to sleep?" asked the young man once they were back in Kissa's niche. "Can't keep using your bed."

"Why not?" deadpanned his host. "Do you mind sharing?"

Aric felt his ears turn hot. "I grew up with two brothers, two sisters and one large bed. But we were kids."

"Suit yourself." Kissa shrugged and proceeded to take off his shirt, getting his long hair tangled in it, and snaking about in an attempt to get it free.

The guest watched for a good minute or more, fascinated. "Well?"

"Oh!" The host reached past him, coming very close in the tight space, and raised the corner of a carpet from the wall. Beyond was another, smaller niche, just the right size for Aric to sleep in it, and suitably appointed.

"This was meant for a live-in servant," explained Kissa, "but I have very little use for such, and a good pair of hands is better employed elsewhere these days."

He moved back to his corner and unscrewed the lid from a small jar, from which he took a fragrant balm to rub on his scar.

"Need any help?"

"I can reach my new wound. Not so much the old one." He showed a red line dug into the flesh across his shoulder blades. "Work accident. I usually have to ask one of the girls."

Aric made a skeptical face, but accepted the jar, and did his best to spread its contents on the bigger scar.

"You have gentle hands," remarked Kissa.

"T-thank you, Meister."

Out in the corridor, Kraft was coming from somewhere, licking his chops. He looked rounder than usual. The host pulled the curtains closed all the way, and dimmed the lamp.

----

The distant streams of lava looked subdued in the sunlight, as if sleeping off recent exertions. The old arsenal's ruins were at last no longer burning, and the smaller fires in its vicinity had been put out as well. Only the tents on the promenade remained, grimy and sagging. That, and the gaping hole in the terrace above them.

Aric stayed well away from either. Hair wrapped in a headscarf after the style of sailors in his nation, he looked very much the stranger. One might have wondered what a young seaman from the south was doing so far from the wide open waters, but it did reduce the chances of being recognized. Locals weren't in the habit of scrutinizing visitors too closely, be they merchants or migrants. Mistrust them, yes. City guards of course were another story, but the young man knew all too well how to avoid them.

Not so much the royal army.

What were they even doing in town? They must have arrived during the morning, and in greater numbers than the Guard had ever been able to muster during the months Aric had been there. Walking the streets in groups of three, armed with cuirass and halberd, their mere presence split the crowd and shushed conversations. For once however, Aric's dark skin, the butt of so many jokes, made him all but invisible.

On a whim, he headed to the food market. If it was anything like home, people would want to replenish their supplies following the other day's feast, however rudely it had been interrupted. That was hardly the case. The young man was yet to see the enclosure so empty and quiet, even this close to noon. After strolling around the place a couple of times, he figured out what was missing: people from the east, with their vigorous shouts and wide gestures. The few Aric was able to spot avoided looking up, and all but gave away their wares. His meager purse proved sufficient for a double handful of dried fruit with a name that twisted his tongue even more than the tart flavor. He hated to think the orchard it came from could now be lying under a layer of ash.

The young man hungered for gossip more than food though, so he soon drifted upwards to where most of the smithies could be found. Outsiders seldom found their way into guilds, so artisans only faced competition from the large mills, of which they complained loudly over the din of hammers. Aric had not much coin or interest for baubles; it was a keen ear that caught him the rumor he was chasing.

No such thing was needed to hear the cries of children separated from their parents once he reached the mill quarter. Built almost on top of each other up the riverbank opposite the city, they were a foreboding sight at the best of times. Let alone with endless lines of refugees marched inside like cattle, families broken up at the swing of a halberd.

Aric's mind was numb. The child in him wanted to know why, but as the question spun idly in his mind, the adult soon came up with a better one: where were all the local workers?

It was the former soldier in him who found an answer. How right he was only became apparent as he drew near the barracks.

The royal army was there to recruit. And they didn't much care whether people were willing.

He had to get out of there before someone noticed him staring and offered a tour of the garrison. One that could take years. The young man forced himself not to run as he retraced his steps. Retreat to a safe distance, take a detour and climb as far as the central square. It sounded like a plan, in any event.

Too bad he had neglected to keep an eye out for the regular patrols. It only took one. With a pair of crossbows pointed at him from up close, it wasn't the time to test the aiming skills of his former comrades in arms. Fortunately, they weren't inclined to shoot on sight either. Even if a couple of them thought he was literally back from the dead, as he learned once they took him in. To the others, he served a story about wandering the literal underside of the city, dodging the big bad Night People, until a way out of the depths presented itself. It didn't really hold water, as the sergeant made clear while roughing him up. At best that gave them a pretext not to have him beheaded as a deserter. Not yet, at any rate.

Turned out, the captain of the guard wanted to interrogate him in person. Again.

The bell in the clock tower rang once as Aric was being walked past. Hollow, somehow. He could never unlearn that the ample carved doors were fake, and the tower had no floors, but only a ladder climbing from the movement below street level to the dials on top.

Where they were going was another story. The captain wasn't in her office near the barracks that day, but the other one, in the Hall of Justice. Aric had been there too, a couple of times, escorting commoners to a trial. As accused, of course. Inspiring words adorned the marble-plated walls, or so they had sounded with Tani reading them to him. Now he could scarcely recall half a sentence.

They climbed so many flights of stairs, Aric lost count. Each new floor was less populated than those below, until silence became ominous in the dirty sunlight filtered through the windows.

It was an office as stern as its occupant, with plain white walls, a rarity in that place, and hardly any furniture spared for comfort. She shooed the guards out; they were only too happy to leave the sight of their leader. The woman waved him in, and he obeyed, eyes darting from her broad face to the helmet on the desk and the short sword hanging from the back of her chair. The latter creaked as they sat opposite from each other. She knew what Aric had been up to, and made that very clear while pouring him a drink. The young man was now an insider. Mostly, she wanted to know all there was about the Clockmaker of the Underground, the famed mastermind of the Night People.

Aric blanked out. Slowly, he realized she meant Kissa. And the first thing that came to mind was the man's soft, warm hand on his naked shoulder as he whispered that it was mid-morning in the surface world already.

Oh, he found plenty of details to recount in the end. Hopefully none of them were too sensitive. The captain even cracked a smile at his candid account of life down there. At long last, she declared herself satisfied, and strode out, leaving him to wait in the office with a strong warning for company.

He was too afraid to get up for a while. Then as the clock rang four times and no more sounds came from the hallway, the woman's words started replaying in his mind. Don't try jumping out the window, she'd said, and indeed the narrow opening was too high up a sheer wall, as it became obvious when he leaned out. Even if he could somehow reach the ground in one piece, patrolling guards couldn't fail to spot him.

What else, then? There's no other door out of the room, she had added, as if it wasn't obvious. Unless... he inspected the furniture more closely. The bookshelves, in particular, carried detailed wood carvings in the local tradition. Lost among them was a symbol he'd only seen placed above doorways in the underground.

Sure enough, it concealed a spring-loaded lever that in turn opened a secret passage. Aric never looked back.

----

"So war is brewing on the northern border. How convenient for the royal court."

"I don't understand, Meister."

"Think, Aric. We were expecting a company of your replacements. Instead, we got a battalion of regular troops. Who somehow knew their assistance was needed and came prepared."

"Maybe they crossed paths with a courier along the way," offered Fanti.

"Perhaps. That leaves the old arsenal being blown sky-high just the day before. As if someone wanted them to find the burg weakened."

"Now you're being theatrical," she said gently.

"Am I? Why would they place the burg under martial law, so far from the front lines of a war that hasn't yet started?"

Aric couldn't read Kissa's expression through the mechanical eyepiece. Daylight was more subdued than last time in the room with the viewing pool, yet Night People still needed protection. Across from the young man, Cetri was sharpening her dagger. He focused on the shimmering image between them, an inverted skyline now dominated by glinting polearms. The woman put her weapon away and drew its pair.

"They'll be coming," she said.

"And break the pact we have with the Day People?" asked Fanti.

"A pact they wouldn't know or care about," Kissa pointed out. "The Burgmeisters themselves need to be reminded time and again."

"How would they know about us... you... in the first place?" inquired Aric.

Kissa sighed. "Our existence is an open secret, at least in the right circles."

"Oh." The young man let his shoulders slump. "Oh."

The attack came two days later, at sunset. Three companies of the royal infantry burst in through the upper tunnels and went straight for the council chamber where Aric and Kissa explained their findings again to a trio of elders. The Night People on watch were not equipped to deal with such a foe; they were swiftly pushed back. The ornate doors burst open, pushed by an officer who clearly did not expect to find so many people awake and ready for him. That's when the metal orbs on either side lit up, flooding the corridor with a web of lightning. The intruders cried out in pain and anguish; those who yet could backpedaled hastily in the sudden darkness, only to run into reinforcements which kept coming from behind. Greenish fire streaked out of side tunnels, burning through steel as if it wasn't there. A flurry of short blades followed, that polearms couldn't easily turn to face in the confined quarters. Few ever found the exit again.

But Aric heard most of the story later. At the time he was more concerned with the half-dozen of so soldiers who had made it into the room despite everything. In the flickering light of their torches, Night People were like ghosts swooping down on them from impossible angles.

They were, however, quite mortal after all. Back against a wall, a borrowed blade held painfully in clenched hands, the young man watched in horror as bodies collapsed on both sides. One did so right next to him: a lithe form with flowing white hair. A shadow loomed huge over the both of them, arms raised high, ready to deal the fatal blow.

Aric's brain stopped working. He lunged clumsily, like he didn't think he would ever have to for real, and felt his weapon slide under armor with a sickening lurch. A long moment passed, then his opponent crumpled to the ground, leaving him disarmed. But it didn't matter anymore: he was the last one standing.

"Are you all right?" he asked hysterically, kneeling besides the fallen shape. "What do I do?"

"I'm unharmed," he heard Kissa answer, like from very far away. "Get someone to turn the lights back on. I know who the traitor is."

----

The city was ablaze with the flames of revolt.

Crowds only grew thicker on their way up the terraces, torches multiplying by the minute, a grim reflection of the procession a few days prior. Burning wreckage floated down the river in their wake: those merchants who willingly worked with the big mills or the royal army had been given a rude awakening. People had struggled hard for their privileges; not even the monarch could take them back without a fight. The city's new peacekeepers regrouped again and again, and still couldn't stem the tide. Guards stood aside, caught between their duty to the people and allegiance to the kingdom.

And what a show it was. Many who joined the revolt wore bleached wigs and painted their skin white. It made them more visible in the dark, but that too was a statement. They'd drink from flasks and spit on the ground, req liquid trickling down their chins. They'd split and rejoin, flowing around choke points like water. Hiding behind each other. Uncountable. Unstoppable.

It all suited the real Night People just fine.

Aric thought it was insanely dangerous for Kissa to expose himself like that, doubly so after the recent events, but here he was with his two faithful bodyguards. After all, the young man hadn't stayed behind either. And the trio he'd been with on the night after the disaster was also there.

Besides, the crowds were a good couple of terraces away from the palaces of minor City Lords. Had the latter known who was really coming, maybe they'd have hired more private guards for the night. Then again, mused the former soldier, Lord Buiba always skimped on those, instead choosing to request official protection for free.

His armed servants never knew what hit them.

The interior of the building was just as cluttered with mismatched decorations as the exterior, and its owner just as bloated as Aric remembered. He was equal parts defiant and terrified once awakened, all too happy to rat out his fellow City Lords. They had been working on a bid to break with the kingdom and become a free city, the man explained. And it wasn't loyalty to the royal court that had driven him to betray the attempt. Quite simply, having to pay customs would have put a dent in his lucrative commerce with the capital. It made him resentful enough that Night People got the first pick of exotic wares from the east, to use in their secretive works.

What Aric couldn't understand was why so many people had had to die. It wasn't as if they wanted to leave the kingdom. That much he knew from months of overheard conversations. And then, what were they going to do, kill a lord? Kidnap him? The man sneered as he asked them that exact question.

It was the woman who entered the door, having to bend down to do so, who gave the answer. She'd heard enough, having arrived soon after the Night People. And the captain of the guard would be listened to at the trial.

That was a thing even a lord could be afraid of.

Outside, the rebellious crowds were coming ever closer, bloody clashes with the soldiers facing them about to turn into an all-out battle. The woman let one of her lieutenants take in the traitor. It was time to take sides. And her oath was to the city first.

But Aric and his companions had already melted into the shadows by then. It was a relief, yet the young man couldn't help but wonder if that was going to be his life going forward. Skulking. Hiding. Plotting.

He didn't envy Kissa one bit. And why was he thinking of Tani out of the blue?

The question troubled him all the way back to the tunnels.

----

The Lord Mayor finally made a proclamation the next day towards noon. It was unfortunate, he stated, that the city's loyalty to the kingdom had been put into doubt, but trampling its charter the way royal troops had done could not be disregarded. They were to leave the citizenry alone and depart as soon as it could be arranged. Their commander protested that a small army needed time to move out, but did pull his soldiers into their temporary quarters. Many of the new recruits returned to their families; others came of their own will to fill some of the gaps. A couple of days later, after giving no sign of actually preparing, they lifted camp and filed out the gates in mere hours. Spies could only assume a courier from the capital had brought news of the war.

To top it all, the man Aric had stabbed was alive, and could even receive a visit now, the surgeon said. That was a relief. He prepared at length for the meeting. Kissa had offered to go in his stead. It took Aric a lot of strength to say no.

He steeled himself again before passing through the curtain. Dressed in the revealing robes Night People favored at home, face covered by a veil like they favored when going on the surface, Aric could be anyone. That suited him fine. Being himself anymore just felt wrong as of late.

The captive was tall and well fed, not much older than Aric. The uniform folded next to his bedding belonged to an army lieutenant. He squinted at the visitor in the dim lamplight, trying to raise his head.

"Who are you?"

Aric pointed at the man's bandages. "I'm the one who gave you that." The hoarse whisper sounded strange to his own ears.

"Have you come to gloat?"

"I've come to..." Why had he come, anyway? "Your unit has left. Thought you might want to know."

"Oh." The captive nodded weakly. "Just send the ransom letter to Ostan, head of House Camorein, in Ibra. I'm Prais, the third son."

"Certainly."

"Thank you." Prais relaxed visibly. "May I inquire about the fate of my men?"

"Anyone who didn't run is dead. We gave them the proper rites."

"All of them?!" The man jerked upright, only to groan in pain and lie back down. Aric ran to his side, propping him with another pillow or two.

"I'm afraid so. Night People don't take it well when their home is invaded." Aric didn't have the heart to tell the young officer how survivors had asked their captors for asylum.

Prais laughed bitterly. "Disowned, defeated and disgraced."

"But alive. Please don't throw that away."

That earned Aric a long, thoughtful look. "May I know your name?"

"Call me... Amnul. Amnul of the Black Lakes." It hurt to say the words.

The young officer's gaze descended to the blade adorning Aric's naked waist. "Fitting."

It was much later when Cetri found Aric in a training room, lunging and slashing at a pair of dummies.

"Not like that", she said, walking over. The young man let her press against his body from behind, guiding his limbs into the proper stance. Soon they were moving together, weaving the deadly dance he'd only witnessed twice. More time passed before they slumped against a wall, unable to lift their arms.

"Who am I fooling?" he asked, on the verge of crying. "I can't do this. I don't belong here."

She smiled sadly. "Neither do we."

"But you're good at it! You were guarding the door that evening. How many have you..." He trailed off.

"I'm a mother," Cetri pointed out.

He didn't know what to say, so just sat there with her, listening to the heartbeat of distant machines.

Days went by. Counted by astronomical clocks, they turned into rather abstract notions. Aric forced himself to visit the viewing room every day before work. It was harder every time. Kissa assured him it was too early to feel the lack of sunlight. That helped little. There was no need for the young man to work, either, Kissa also said. Aric had done much for the undercity already. And there were new arrivals to shoulder the burden.

That was what bothered Aric the most.

Even Kissa had taken to wearing a dagger at all times, supposedly to follow upper city fashion. It looked out of place in the common room, as Fanti sat with Oloni, practicing letters with chalk and slate. Aric watched with interest: the little girl was in fact learning faster than him. From across the idle firepit, Cetri made a sign of encouragement.

They all looked up when someone else came in: a red-haired boy, even younger than Aric, wearing the remains of a uniform, the same way he had at first. The boy was balancing a large tray with a couple of pitchers and half a dozen cups. He carefully set it down by the firepit and made five drinks that sizzled colorfully before offering them around. Then he stared in puzzlement at the remaining cup and made to leave.

The boy hadn't looked up once in all this time. Aric knew fear when he saw it.

"Sit and drink with us," the young man said, tugging at the boy's sleeve. The latter resisted weakly at first, then yielded. Aric emptied the pitchers in the sixth cup. "What's your name?"

"Ceral, sir." The boy accepted his cup meekly, and sipped. His eyes went wide.

"You don't need to call me sir. I'm Aric. Where are you from, Ceral?"

"Nevera." That didn't need any explanation. It was the second-largest city after the capital, and arguably richer.

Aric nodded. "How long did you have left?"

"They were going to discharge me next month, but then the war happened. I... couldn't take it anymore." He gulped more of his drink.

"War may yet reach us," Aric noted. "In fact it already has."

"I'll take my chances." Ceral emptied his cup. "Better get back to work. Thank you, s... Aric."

He picked up the tray and retreated with a bow. Nobody else had said a word. They reminded Aric of gawkers watching caged animals at the menagerie.

----

The ransom came through during the next day. The alchemical prowess of Night People was such that Prais could already walk, if slowly and half-carried. Aric rejected the suggestion that one of the spies they paid on the surface could make the trip. He wore his headscarf in a different style, face half covered, and a new cloak he'd sewn from the frayed end of a fabric roll. Even so, it was too dangerous for him to go anywhere close to the busier parts of town. The meeting was set near a side gate, from where he could easily get back to the mine entrance he had used once before.

Even from a bad angle, it was hard to miss how much the sea of tents beyond the ramparts had thinned out. The city was no longer seen as a safe haven. But where else could they go? Aric was tempted to simply join a caravan and find out. Assuming there was going to be another one.

Because the army was going to be back for sure. The former soldier and the wounded officer could agree on that much.

In the mean time, the city continued to change.

The City Guard had always been short-staffed at best. With a whole company's worth of soldiers leaving while their replacements never arrived, the desperate and the malicious were getting bolder. Soon, mercenaries could be seen patrolling the streets. And mercenaries had to be paid proper wages. New street vendors popped up everywhere, crowding out formerly peaceful public spaces. The populace wasn't getting any richer, and it showed in the thinning foot traffic. Hard to believe the city collected much tax money from that.

At least it gave the immigrants and the marginal more places to hang out. And that meant Aric could be out and about a little more, though he still couldn't brave the more important locations. Central square was best seen from below, in the optical pool.

Instead, he learned to appreciate the surrounding forest.

It was quiet among the trees at dawn, safe for the distant call of some bird that hadn't flown south yet. Even the wind died down beneath verdant crowns, leaving only the sun as it rose over a distant mountaintop, as if it was the source of all that lava. He'd sit there facing east, soaking up the light. Eyes closed, it was easy to imagine himself back home. He tried taking Ceral with him a few times, but the boy wasn't allowed out of the tunnels. Not yet.

Aric wasn't all alone up there however. For one thing, he'd made friends with the millers who were hiding a way into the undercity inside their home. It was a married couple, aging folk who gently lamented the way bigger mills upstream poisoned the river. Sleep didn't come so easily in their old age, and so it happened that they could entertain guests of the night. The young man didn't look any deeper. He found it hard enough not to cry when they, too, asked him to stay.

----

"Do you like that boy?"

"What do you mean, Meister?" Aric looked up from the pieces of fabric strewn across his work table and turned down the lamp somewhat, to make the unexpected visitor more comfortable. He would have loved to have a lightning lantern, but those were luxuries even for Night People. And it wasn't as if his work felt especially valuable, even though he'd been assured of the contrary. Those who worked hard to keep the city's machinery working appreciated having someone to take care of everything else for them.

"Come on. I couldn't possibly miss the way you look at Ceral. All the time you spend with him. It's made you so much happier as of late."

The young man felt his ear grow hot. "Not in that way! He's almost my age. We share songs and stories. Besides, there's... Never mind."

"If you say so." Kissa looked relieved and disappointed at the same time. "Still, if you'd rather bunk with him instead..."

"I'll think about it," Aric said quickly. He sighed. "Meister... I've been asking around in case there's a caravan going south."

"Any luck so far?"

"You... you don't mind?"

Kissa walked in and sat on a spare chair. "You'll be missed if you go. That doesn't mean we'll try to stop you."

"Can I take Ceral with me?"

"Ask him, not me." Kissa laughed at the young man's surprised expression. "They asked for asylum, remember? Ceral didn't even hurt anyone."

Aric scooped him up in a big hug. "Thank you! Er, I mean."

"You're welcome." Kissa's voice hadn't sounded so sad in a long time.

The young man didn't always go to the training room after work, but whenever he did, Ceral was there to cheer him on. Sometimes Cetri, too, when she wasn't busy with other duties, or for that matter the little one. They'd take turns shooting hand crossbows at painted targets; the boy wasn't permitted to touch a weapon. Aric had a knack for it, unlike with bladework, and soon started winning the informal contests.

"You don't have to, you know," she told him one time.

"They'll be back." He was starting to like the way she talked.

"Plenty of fighters down here," insisted Cetri.

He pointed at the ceiling. "And up there?"

She gave him a serious look. "You're leaving, then?"

"Don't you start now!" He pushed past her to hang up the weapon on its rack. When he returned, there were tears in his eyes. "I can't stay like this. Torn between two worlds. I have to choose."

The woman nodded slowly. "Oloni will miss you."

"I'll miss her too." He looked at Ceral, who stood by the doorway, wringing his hands.

"But you have family." Cetri followed his gaze. "And you?"

"My freedom is forfeit, ma'am," stammered Ceral. "Home is too far, anyway."

She pressed on. "What if you could go free?" They hadn't told him yet.

The boy turned towards Aric instead. "I'd go with you. Anywhere."

Meanwhile they only moved as far as the tunnel where Cetri and Fanti dwelled. The carpets on the walls were threadbare; plain curtains hung three arm's lengths apart, separating the living spaces. One of them had been freed recently, though Aric never learned the fate of the previous occupants. To reach their own partition, one had to walk the narrow pathway left along the far wall, while avoiding to look sideways. Thankfully he and Ceral only had to pass by the two women that way. There was another couple, man and woman, beyond the next curtain, and more people occupied the deeper half, but hardly any children apart from Oloni.

It was just like the long house Aric's family owned. Only the walls were even thinner. To his surprise, the usually meek Ceral actually complained.

"My room at home was smaller than this," the boy said, "but at least it had a door."

There was no way to keep their beddings separate, either, not if they wanted to also have room for a few belongings. Both were surprised at how comfortable they felt with each other. When bath time came, Ceral insisted to wash Aric's back.

That felt amazing, if not so much deserved.

It was hard to say who gained the most from the move. Maybe Oloni, who was delighted to have new neighbors willing to play with her. The women, too, didn't exactly mind having someone to leave the little girl with when they went on guard duty or a raid at bad times. And the young men had someone to help them forget their troubles for a while now and then.

Only Kissa had grown more distant, showing up less often in the common room, looking tired and preoccupied when he did, usually briefly.

"It's not your fault," Fanti told them at one point. "The Burgmeisters' plot wasn't derailed for long. He has many strings to pull."

"But... What's it to you either way?" asked Aric.

Her expression darkened. "This ambition of theirs can only bring the city to ruin. Day People can simply move someplace else. But we... alone we die off."

"Don't they also need you?"

"Only while there's a city to keep running."

"Is it even wise to question the decisions of those in high stations like that?" interjected Ceral.

"Perhaps if we were alone in this." Kissa had entered without a sound. "But people of even higher station are concerned. The hard part has been conveying messages. And now with the war it's even harder."

"We can deliver a letter for you when we go." Aric said quickly, ignoring Ceral's puzzled look.

Kissa shook his head. "You don't want to be caught with it. And you'd be going the wrong way in the first place. But we can talk when you find a caravan."

That only took a few more days after all.

Aric woke up in the sound of looms. One couldn't sleep in while living in the tunnels. He'd dreamed of securing passage with a south-bound caravan. No, wait, it hadn't been a dream. That had actually happened in early morning. He wanted to shake Ceral awake and tell him right away, but he was already alone. The boy must have been on kitchen duty that evening. The women weren't in the neighboring partition either. The young man barely took the time to put on his pants before rushing outside. As he feared, Kissa wasn't in his niche either. On a whim, he took the cable car all the way up, for all it still gave him a shiver down the spine. The guards waved him into the viewing room with little ceremony. He didn't need to see the faces of those gathered to know something was horribly amiss.

Cetri only looked up long enough to recognize him and shuffle over. Aric leaned over the pool and couldn't believe his eyes.

A frenzy of flags fluttered furiously in front of the ramparts, and the great ballistae took turns shooting arcs of purple fire towards them. The young man gasped: those were coats of arms from the kingdom! Across the room from him, Kissa adjusted his eyepiece; as that didn't seem to help, he proceeded to turn various brass wheels set in the walls. The image in the pool tilted and refocused somewhat, enough to reveal that the engines of death were firing over the royal army, at different, distant banners coming through the hills. It didn't seem to slow them down much at all.

----

Poor Kraft followed them all the way to the tunnel mouth, meowling pathetically as if he wasn't going to ever see them again. Ceral was this close to turning back on the spot. It took them both strength to go ahead. In the daylight, Aric couldn't fail to notice the shiny streaks in the boy's hair, or how his blue eyes had acquired new depths. The changes were still reversible at this point, according to Kissa. Hopefully the man was right. It wasn't as if people got to escape the underground for good all that often.

The air was hazier than it had been in a while. No wonder the optical pool hadn't been much help. From up close, the naked eye could at least spot the royal troops massing in front of the gates, and for some reason failing to come in. City guards and mercenaries alike were gathered behind the ramparts, instead of up there preparing to meet the siege head-on. As the two young men walked to the ragged end of the promenade, and down from there, unnoticed in the flurry of preparations taking place around them, it became apparent that the two sides were facing off, one trying to get the gates open, the other to keep them closed. The shouting match was audible by now, but it seemed to have no winner.

Until, that is, the captain of the guard herself marched in, splitting the crowd like the prow of a warship through foamy seas.

The mercenary leader shrank from her presence. Soon, the racket of chains winding on capstans announced the opening of gates, and the kingdom's troops started pouring in: battered, bloodied, but still majestic. Just in time, too. Overhead, the ballistae were slowing down, now shooting ordinary spears more often than not.

Only now could Aric tell that many of the arriving soldiers did not, in fact, carry the royal banner. Their coat of arms looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite place them at the moment. It was a question for another time anyway. People rushed to help riders dismount, while officers of the guard directed them to take defensive positions. Food, water and bandages would have to be distributed while waiting for combat.

Amidst the frantic activity, hardly anyone noticed a group of mercenaries converging on the captain of the guard, whom they set about to disarm and lead away at sword point, under the direction of a thin old man with a scowl frozen on his face. Hardly anyone except for Aric, but neither him nor Ceral could do much about it. Everyone was too busy to help even if explaining the situation wouldn't have taken much too long. They at least tried to follow from a distance, in the hope of figuring out where she was being taken. And that was when they got caught. Again. Someone must have spread Aric's description around.

It wasn't even someone in uniform this time, he noted bitterly. Most likely one of those the city employed for dirty jobs. A couple of accomplices held Ceral at bay, while the brute dragged Aric away with muscular arms, waving a short blade dangerously close to his face. He scanned the crowd in desperation, but anyone who wasn't terribly busy conspicuously pretended to be.

A crossbow twanged. Aric's would-be captor was left staring at his sword arm, now pinned to a nearby pole. The young man only knew one person who could shoot like that.

It was Tani, all right, who was opening her visor right now, several paces away. And if that was Tani, the colors she was wearing could only be those of House Taodar. Which in turn meant the man dismounting behind her must have been...

Aric fell to his knees, head bowed, Ceral following suit out of habit. It was Lord Taodar himself who helped them up.

Now that was someone to whom they could explain the treachery they'd just witnessed. But by then the mercenaries were long gone. Or were they? By chance, Ceral's keen eye spotted one of them mingling with the throng of people who still found things to do near the gate. They dove into the crowd like a whirlwind. With a wicked curved dagger against her throat, the woman was quick to spill what they needed to know.

Tani's father lent his own crossbow to the young man before going to oversee the defense efforts, and she led her own bodyguards in pursuit of Aric, who strode purposefully towards the stairs and one end of the promenade. There sat the guardhouse where he'd spent so many hours after patrol. Only now it swarmed with grim, burly fighters kitted in mismatched gear. Those were people who saw combat often, and didn't give much thought to blood or life.

Repeating crossbows could shoot a dozen bolts a minute if you didn't care much about aiming. They didn't even hold that many at once. Nor did they need to. In good hands, such a weapon became a veritable instrument of terror. A squad of determined warriors assaulted the small building, plowing through its occupiers. The captain herself didn't waste any time, proceeding to crack heads the moment she realized rescue was on the way.

Only when the coast was clear did they have time to survey the ramparts. It was immediately apparent that the battle wasn't going well for the city's valiant defenders, new and old alike. They ached to go down there. They knew better than to think their small band would make much of a difference.

In the dwindling daylight, Aric led them to the mouth of the nearest tunnel. They didn't have to march in very far before encountering a war party of the Night People. Their spies on the surface must have been doing their job for once. The young man readily accepted a quiver of alchemic bolts for his shooter, and a hardened leather apron with glowing symbols carved into it. Not exactly a fitted breastplate, but it would do.

Enemies were intruding upon the city. They were about to face its vengeful ghosts.

----

The underground council chamber was never going to be the same again. The massive furniture remained ever so creaky. The floor, marked with soot and darker stains no amount of scrubbing could fully remove. Of the three elders, Aric remarked, one was now crippled, and he could swear another was new. It was hard to tell: they kept their faces covered even at home. Doubly so with guests around, however important and trusted.

Across the table from them sat Lord Taodar, looking tired, but strong and proud. Next to him, Tani, all quiet and serious, her round face contrasting with her father's weathered traits. For once, Kissa looked every bit the mysterious mastermind, able to vanish into shadows at any moment and strike from hiding. Only the captain of the guard seemed out of place, overwhelmed and intimidated. So did Ceral for that matter, even as the two couldn't be more different in appearance.

"I was worried when my daughter returned to me without the expected message, Meister." Taodar spoke calmly, but firmly. "Imagine my surprise when a letter arrived with the seal of a minor house in Ibra. An old connection?"

Kissa smiled. "A new one, in fact. Thanks to Aric here. A strange story, for another time."

"Speaking of which." Taodar nodded his head in Aric's direction. "I owe you thanks for being a friend to Tani. She had to pass for an ordinary conscript, so we couldn't ask for special treatment. My mistake was failing to anticipate the hardships endured by commoners in the military."

The young warrior nodded his head timidly.

"Forgive me," Ceral ventured, "but how did you know to come with an army? And how was the enemy able to venture so deep into our lands?"

Taodar tapped his fingers together, pondering the answer. "In their wisdom, our royal highness determined that the city would be able to withstand a siege should the enemy outmaneuver the bulk of our armies while we were out there striking at their centers of power. Fortunately I have eyes and ears everywhere, and swift riders."

At long last, the captain leaned forward, clearing her throat. "So what happens now? I'm relieved of my duty, and technically still under arrest."

Tani smiled. "Oh, I do believe the Lord Mayor has come to understand how much he still needs the rest of the kingdom. Besides, it was mostly the Chief Justice who had it in for you. And she's now... permanently indisposed."

The middle elder raised a hand. "You serve the city just like we do, Captain. And we'll always need friends among the Day People. May we ask for a favor in this regard, Mylord?" The other two nodded their support, expressions impenetrable behind fabric masks.

"By all means," Taodar said gracefully.

"Then let us rest and rejoice. Last night was a long one."

The common rooms could not contain all the people, so the celebration spilled out into the corridors. Oloni and Kraft kept chasing each other around the captain. Somehow they both ended up in the big woman's lap, to her surprise and awkwardness. In Kissa's niche, he and Taodar exchanged books; the former got one of recipes, exquisitely typeset and bound. He wanted to go try one right away, but every nearby firepit was in use. Somewhere, Fanti gushed over Tani's fine rapier. And all over the place there was music, hot drinks, soft cushions, games... Only the looms were silent for once.

In a corner, Ceral and Aric leaned against each other.

"Is it real?" asked the boy. "Are we really going away from here?"

Aric smiled. "Hard to believe, isn't it? I keep fearing something else will happen at the last moment."

"Shush. You'll worry yourself sick. Tell me, what is your home like?"

"It's quiet and verdant. Wheat fields as far as the eye can see. Blue waves to one side, golden the other way. Sometimes there are terrible storms, but it's all the more sunny afterwards."

Ceral closed his eyes, trying to imagine the scene. "I've seen the ocean a few times, going with dad on business. Always angry. Roiling. The color of steel. Makes you want to huddle in a tavern and not come out."

"Back home, old sailors say water is water. The winds blowing over it make all the difference. Just like with people."

"Have you ever been at sea, Aric?"

The young warrior shook his head. "It takes hardy men at the best of times."

"You're hardy!" Ceral protested. "One would be a fool not to see it."

"Then I must be one. All my strength as of late has come from you."

"And mine from you. Perhaps that is the secret."

Around them, the party was winding down. Aric nodded. "Let's go get some sleep. The wagons won't wait."

A warm, purry lump of fluff came to settle between them later during the night, but the two were sound asleep by then.

----

Aric shivered and couldn't seem to stop, his cloak and tunic no match for the chill of a late autumn morning. He stomped lovingly mended boots on the packed earth, in a vain attempt to warm himself as he waited for the caravan to get moving. Above him, the first rays of the sun bathed terrace after terrace, bouncing off a myriad windows, like jewels slowly spun in the lavish light. As it swept over marble statues and brass ornaments, the city gradually woke up with the rhythm of hammers and the cries of peddlers, that rolled down the hills like spring water: repairing the broken walls was going to take a long time. Closer to them, people wrapped in rags, with their faces covered, were picking the recent battlefield clean, in-between erecting pyres for the dead. In the distance, a growing rumble signaled the big mills coming to life one by one, until they drowned out even the chatter of birds.

At his side, Ceral rather opted to focus on the preparations going on around them. Laden mules having their packs balanced; horses snorting and pounding the ground as they were being hitched to wagons. A red-faced lad chasing a chicken that had somehow escaped her bonds and now seemed intent on taking her chances with the local birds of prey instead. Concerned mothers trying to herd little children who might as well have been cats.

One girl in particular drew his attention, about the same age and build as Oloni, hair so blond it could pass for white, skin as pale as his own. They were both going to have a hard time in the south. At least the coming winter would hopefully give them leisure to acclimate. He listened curiously to her unfamiliar language, resolving to ask Aric for lessons. Few others on the caravan had bothered to learn even the basics, despite having been in this place for longer.

The sun was all the way above the horizon by the time everything was in order. The shouted report traveled mouth to ear from all the way in the rear to the distant first wagons. Whips cracked, animals strained, and in the creaking of wheels the entire convoy lurched into motion, snaking down the road. Much too soon, the city hid from view behind a bend. Only the remote rivers of fire remained. By noon they should be out of the hills and turn right, away from the dust and smoke. Away from worries.

Ceral looked behind just as Aric was hurrying to catch up. One look in each other's eyes, and they knew everything would be all right forever more. They went on shoulder to shoulder, feeling unstoppable.

They had already proven themselves. It was time to go home.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 21 January 2019}}

User:Claude LeChat

2021-02-24T06:53:17Z

Claude LeChat: Updated social media links; added Kingdom of the Fire River.

{{my stories}} [[Category:Author]]

== About me ==

I'm a recent furry, but lifelong speculative fiction reader, and now a writer too. (As a hobby, mind you.) However, I should probably warn you that I'm somewhat of an outsider to the TF community, drawn here by friends and a number of awesome stories.

== Contacting me ==

I can be most readily be found on [https://meow.social/@claude Mastodon], [https://claudeb.dreamwidth.org/ DreamWidth] and [https://nosycat.neocities.org/ Neocities]. Or you can e-mail me via Shifti (I think).

== My stories ==

=== Original ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Dragon's Wish|Dragon's Wish]]: a fantasy flash fiction.
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf With the Red Cap|The Wolf With the Red Cap]]: a Rule 63 version of the famous story, with a bit of TF thrown in (short).
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Invader|Invader]]: in order to live on Earth, an alien must give up his entire past (short).

----

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet|Parole Planet]]: science fiction novelette about a young man stranded on a distant planet, among strangers with odd customs... that will slowly change him.
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Kingdom of the Fire River|Kingdom of the Fire River]]: Renaissance fantasy novella in which a young soldier discovers a hidden world literally right under his feet. A refuge from disasters, unrest and war. But hide there for too long, and it's forever.

=== FreeRIDErs ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] (a stand-alone [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|FreeRIDErs]] story -- can be read on its own without knowing anything about the setting);
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] (a shorter sequel/epilogue of sorts to ''Alpha Camp'');
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]] (third story in the ''Alpha Camp'' series).

----

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling|Imperfect Coupling]]: a single (and short) TG story that requires familiarity with the setting, unlike the others.

Feedback on my stories is welcome, but I ''will'' argue with you: I don't do things without a good reason.

== FreeRIDErs humor ==

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Uplift? 
A: MPs come to work wearing pants.

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Aloha? 
A: MPs come to work wearing ''something''.

Q: How do you know it's Casual Friday in Nextus? 
A: There must be some mistake. In Nextus they have Casual ''Monday''.

Why did the RIDE cross the road? Because the road was of the opposite sex.

== Favorites ==

(from Shifti)

* Pretty much anything from the aforementioned FreeRIDErs setting.
* [[User:Sturmovik/Extracted|Extracted]], and other stories from Sturmovik's [[United Federation of Alternate Worlds]] setting.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Destinies|Destinies]], an awesome sci-fi novel by the late Michael Bard, fairly hard SF until near the end. Reminiscent of A.E. Van Vogt and Arthur C. Clarke, except much better written.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Diary_of_a_Centaur_in_a_Human's_World|Diary of a Centaur in a Human's World]], by the same author. Furry transformation done right for a change, with all the body horror it would normally involve.
* Joysweeper's [[501st]] and [[Femtroopers]], from the Xanadu series. Deep psychological TF fiction in an utterly surreal setting.
* [[Refamiliarization]], by Xodiac, another Xanadu story.

User:Claude LeChat

2018-12-03T13:41:56Z

Claude LeChat: Updated contact information and clarified some things.

{{my stories}} [[Category:Author]]

== About me ==

I'm a recent furry, but lifelong speculative fiction reader, and now a writer too. (As a hobby, mind you.) However, I should probably warn you that I'm somewhat of an outsider to the TF community, drawn here by friends and a number of awesome stories.

== Contacting me ==

I can be most readily be found [http://www.furaffinity.net/user/claudecat/ on FurAffinity], [http://claudelechat.tumblr.com/ on Tumblr], or [https://meow.social/@claude on Mastodon]. Or you can e-mail me via Shifti (I think).

== My stories ==

=== Original ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Dragon's Wish|Dragon's Wish]]: a fantasy flash fiction;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf With the Red Cap|The Wolf With the Red Cap]]: a Rule 63 version of the famous story, with a bit of TF thrown in;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Invader|Invader]]: in order to live on Earth, an alien must give up his entire past;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet|Parole Planet]]: a science fiction novelette about a young man stranded on a distant planet, among strangers with odd customs... that will slowly change him.

=== FreeRIDErs ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] (a stand-alone [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|FreeRIDErs]] story -- can be read on its own without knowing anything about the setting);
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] (a shorter sequel/epilogue of sorts to ''Alpha Camp'');
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]] (third story in the ''Alpha Camp'' series).

----

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling|Imperfect Coupling]]: a single (and short) TG story that requires familiarity with the setting, unlike the others.

Feedback on my stories is welcome, but I ''will'' argue with you: I don't do things without a good reason.

== FreeRIDErs humor ==

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Uplift? 
A: MPs come to work wearing pants.

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Aloha? 
A: MPs come to work wearing ''something''.

Q: How do you know it's Casual Friday in Nextus? 
A: There must be some mistake. In Nextus they have Casual ''Monday''.

Why did the RIDE cross the road? Because the road was of the opposite sex.

== Favorites ==

(from Shifti)

* Pretty much anything from the aforementioned FreeRIDErs setting.
* [[User:Sturmovik/Extracted|Extracted]], and other stories from Sturmovik's [[United Federation of Alternate Worlds]] setting.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Destinies|Destinies]], an awesome sci-fi novel by the late Michael Bard, fairly hard SF until near the end. Reminiscent of A.E. Van Vogt and Arthur C. Clarke, except much better written.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Diary_of_a_Centaur_in_a_Human's_World|Diary of a Centaur in a Human's World]], by the same author. Furry transformation done right for a change, with all the body horror it would normally involve.
* Joysweeper's [[501st]] and [[Femtroopers]], from the Xanadu series. Deep psychological TF fiction in an utterly surreal setting.
* [[Refamiliarization]], by Xodiac, another Xanadu story.

FreeRIDErs (setting)

2018-12-03T13:36:15Z

Claude LeChat: Proposed Slow Boat as possible stand-alone story.

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}{{DEFAULTSORT:FreeRIDErs (Setting Overview & Story Timeline)}}

{{byline|author=Jon Buck
|user=JonBuck}}

{{byline|author=Robotech_Master
|user=Robotech_Master}}

=={{separator|f|Setting Overview}}==
[[Image:CatGirls.jpg|thumb|300px|Kaylee and Uncia in battle dress, by Marty Salsman (http://martysalsman.deviantart.com)]]In the 25th century, scientists and technicians on the distant colony world of Zharus make a startling breakthrough in energy storage and artificial intelligence, with the aid of "qubitite," a naturally-occurring metamaterial with remarkable quantum properties. The creation of true AI springs from quantum simulations of neural networks based on animals' genetic material that expand to take on true sapience.

Matching these "Reticulated Intelligence" (RI) neural networks with nanotech-composite "Drive Extender" (DE) transforming robotic bodies produces the RIDE: a metallic animal that can transform itself into a vehicle such as a hover-motorcycle (or hover-car or even plane for larger animals), or into an environmentally sealed suit of anthropomorphic-animal body armor to survive the extreme environments of Zharus's deserts, undersea, or even outer space. (Because combining with such a suit goes beyond merely putting it on and involves elements of physical and neural linkage, the act of merging with a RIDE in armor mode is called "Fusing.") Thanks to "hardlight" technology, RIDEs can even be covered with solid holographic fur that feels real to the touch, and even to the RIDE itself.

However, due to their animal basis, Fusing with a RIDE can have consequences for the pilot. In order for them to be neurologically compatible, the pilot has to have similar physical features to the RIDE itself—and the RIDE's nanotech innards are designed to grant those changes. This means that Fusing with RIDEs based on ordinary land mammals will grant the rider their ears and tail (and sometimes more extreme additions such as nose, eyes, or fur).

RIDEs based on further different animals, such as reptiles, birds, or undersea mammals, can produce much extreme changes in their riders that restrict their ability to change back or combine with a different RIDE. And likewise, if the pilot is the wrong gender, the RIDE's nanites will adjust that, too. In most cases of gender or other extreme change, the changed human is unable to safely change back for at least three years.

These RIDEs are used in taming the huge continent of Gondwana, a harsh and often lawless frontier that, unlike the more sedate and longer-settled continent of Laurasia, has many rich resources there for the taking, and a number of city-states occupying the ring of fertile land around the great central desert. In the desert, RIDEs are necessary to live. In the cities, they are urban transportation and playthings of the wealthy and middle-class alike. But even as they are considered mere "equipment" by many, those who know and love them know they are more than that—they are ''people'' too. Will the world come to realize and acknowledge this?

[[Image:Uncia-Harlan-Stein.jpg|thumb|150px|Uncia in battle dress, by Diana Harlan Stein (http://naiadstudios.com)]]In recent years, rumors of a new form of change have been circulating—a combining of rider and RIDE that goes far beyond Fusing. Called "Integration," this combines man and machine into a single gestalt being who can no longer separate—and who are rumored to possess powers far beyond those of mere mortals or RIDEs. It is as yet unclear whether these "Integrates" are to be welcomed or feared—and, indeed, many would place them in the same category as Bigfoot, the Yeti, or the Loch Ness Monster. But these Integrates may be growing tired of keeping to themselves.

And the latest potential threat may very well be the old home world of Earth itself. For fifty years, it has scoffed at the idea that a distant, backward world like Zharus could be the home of so many major technological breakthroughs. But Earth's mind may be changing on that score—and it has long been known for its willingness to reach out and take what it wants.

Welcome to the world of Zharus—and to its denizens. Colonists. Bandits. Miners. Mechanics. ''FreeRIDErs.''

=={{separator|f|Suggested Reading Order}}==

===Robotech_Master's Take===
As this is a shared universe, there could be plenty of jumping-on points. '''The very best way to read it would probably be by publication order,''' since that would give you the same effect as the people who were reading it in real time from the beginning. '''There's a list available [[FreeRIDErs (publication order)|here]].'''

Otherwise, I suggest reading "Deserted", "Merging Traffic", "Rochelle & Rufia: R&R", then "FreeRIDErs", then the first few chapters of "Integration" (and my "Foxed" tales), as those were all written earliest and have most of the earliest setting building in them. Then you can read Jetfire's and the other authors' stories in chronological order, and continue reading "Integration" after that. (Probably should leave "Second-Hand Lioness" until after Integration #21, otherwise some events in the main story could be spoiled.)

I'd suggest to have all of Jetfire's chronologically-earlier stuff read before you get to Integration #14, since that's where some of his characters merge into the storyline. That being said, you could probably just as easily read everything in straight chronological order without missing ''too'' much. Or just pick one writer at random and read his or her works through in order, then pick another one. Once you've read enough, it all starts to make sense together.

Either way, you should read at least some of the stories before you try to dig into the setting background material below the story list on this page. It was mainly written for our own reference and amusement while we built the setting overall, and can be kind of confusing if you come to it without a grounding from the stories in how the world works.

===Claude LeChat's two cents ===

I went a different way myself. ''Deserted'' and ''Merging Traffic'' are of course the mandatory first two, since they introduce the setting and all the most important characters. Then you're free to read e.g. the first three ''Inspecteur Hollins'' stories. But not the fourth, not yet!

Before jumping into the pivotal novel ''Integration'', you'll probably want to read ''FreeRIDErs'', since it provides a crucial bit of background, and possibly ''All Spark Bulletin'', since it's a good introduction to the Munns. But you can't go wrong with any of Jetfire's prequel stories. Fibio's ''Turnover'' will give you a good idea of the spaceship tech in the series, as well as being an emotional story in itself.

Last but not least, ''Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed'' and ''Longer Fused, More Foxed'' fill in a couple of holes in the aforementioned ''Integration'', but you can safely read them afterwards since they're unrelated but for the characters. As for ''Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door'', it makes for a nice "outboard epilogue" to the novel.

Stories that can stand on their own, for readers who aren't familiar with the franchise:

* ''Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway'', but it arguably cheats because it's a spin-off;
* ''As a Woman I RIDE'';
* My own ''Alpha Camp'', if you don't mind minor spoilers for how the conflict of ''Integration'' unfolds.
* Of the newer stories, ''Slow Boat to Zharus'', though you might want to read some of the early stuff first.

=={{separator|f|Stories in Chronological Order}}==

[[Image:Faught_kaylee_uncia.jpg|thumb|300px|Kaylee and Uncia in battle gear as depicted by David Faught - https://www.facebook.com/DavidFaughtArtist]]Authors may add links to their stories as they happen in chronological order in story time. ("AL" stands for "After Landing," representing the number of years after the colony ships landed in 2350 AD.) For a complete listing of all FreeRIDErs stories, since this list may be updated sporadically, see [[:Category:FreeRIDErs|the FreeRIDErs Category]].

Stories that have been updated to the "Director's Cut" second draft edition are indicated with a '''(DC)''' afterward.

'''66 AL (2416 AD)'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/The General|The General]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''108 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Aloha|Aloha]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''112 AL to 113 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Greatest Show|The Greatest Show]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' with ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''121 AL to 123 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/GI_Joe|G.I. Joe]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

'''122 AL'''

*[[User:Jetfire/Broken_Crown|Broken Crown]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''128 AL'''
*Marshals: Beginnings
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Ride_Sally|Episode One: Ride, Sally]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Reaping_the_Whirlwind|Episode Two: Reaping the Whirlwind]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''129 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Splashdown|Splashdown]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''131 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Astra-naught|Astra-naught]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''132 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Where_Everybody_Knows_Your_Name|Where Everybody Knows Your Name]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''134 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/The_Lady_of_the_Tiger|The Lady of the Tiger]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''133 AL to 138 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Cave_of_Wonders|Cave of Wonders]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''138 AL to 152 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Sum of Their Parts|Sum of Their Parts]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''140 to 141 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/Fly With Me|Fly With Me]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

'''143 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Darling_Clementine|Oh My Darling Clementine]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''144 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/A_Fritzmas_Carol|A Fritzmas Carol]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''146 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/Aloha666|Aloha 666]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]))''

'''147 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/FADE IN|FADE IN]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

'''147 AL to 154 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Spice Girls|Spice Girls]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

[[Image:Zane-Harlan-Stein.jpg|thumb|300px|Zane, and the Zane Cane, by Diana Harlan Stein (http://naiadstudios.com)]]'''148 AL'''

'''149 AL'''
* [[User:Jetfire/In_Space|In Space...]] (149 to 156 AL) ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|Jon Buck]])''

'''152 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Pride_Lioness|Pride of Lioness]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''152 to 153 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Walkabout|Walkabout]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/All_Spark_Bulletin|All Spark Bulletin]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/The_Touch|The Touch]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''155 to 156 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/Marshals|Marshals]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' with ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

[[Image:Blackmon-KayleeUncia-lines-01.jpg|thumb|300px|Uncia and Kaylee in battle as depicted by Jacob Blackmon - http://prodigyduck.deviantart.com/]]'''156 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/jeanette-lioness|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Second-Hand Lioness]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (begins before "Deserted" and covers all the way through Integration #21)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Deserted|Deserted]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Hawl/Crossrider's Dream|CrossRIDEr's Dream]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Takes place one week after Chapter 5 of Desserted, but is not a story in the Integration Storyline)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Merging_Traffic|Merging Traffic]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Rochelle Rufia|Rochelle & Rufia: R&R]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/FreeRIDErs_dircut|FreeRIDErs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[Turnover]] '' ([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/ANGLE ON|ANGLE ON]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (Concurrent with the first half of ''Integration''.)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/DISSOLVE TO|DISSOLVE TO]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (Concurrent with ''Integration'' #16-#17.)
*Integration
**[[User:Robotech_Master/All Nighter|Part 1: All Nighter]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Integrates|Part 2: Integrates]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/RIDEgirls Day Out|Part 3: RIDEgirls' Day Out]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Dating Games|Part 4: Dating Games]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/N00bs|Part 5: N00bs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/All Aboard|Part 6: All Aboard!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/A Meating of the Board|Part 7: A Meating of the Board]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Meat the Press|Part 8: Meat, the Press]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Stockholm Vacation|Part 9: Stockholm Vacation]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Spaceflight of Fancy|Part 10: Spaceflight of Fancy]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Citizen Katie|Part 11: Citizen Katie]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/The Crew|Part 12: The Crew]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Kaylee Anny|Part 13: Kaylee & Anny]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Assault Batteries|Part 14: Assault and Batteries]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Task of Amontillado|Part 15: The Task of Amontillado]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Integrate Raids|Part 16: The Integrate Raids]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Family Matters|Part 17: Family Matters]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Many Meetings|Part 18: Many Meetings]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Meetings Completing|Part 19: Meetings Completing]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Prodigals|Part 20: Prodigals]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Enemy Lines|Part 21: Enemy Lines]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Alpha Strike|Part 22: Alpha Strike]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Universe of Battle|Part 23: Universe of Battle]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/What Happened Mouse|Part 24: What Happened to the Mouse?]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/The Big Date|Part 25 (Epilogue): The Big Date]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Slightly Foxed|Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place between Part 5 and Part 6 of Integration)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/More Foxed|Longer Fused, More Foxed]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place between Part 5 and Part 14 of Integration)
*[[User:Claude_LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] ''([[User:Claude_LeChat|Claude LeChat]])'' (begins in Part 8 of Integration)
*[[Taking the Plunge]] ''([[User:Kris|Kris]])'' (takes place after Part 8 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Cat's Paw]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place during parts 9-11 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Viral Thief]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place sometime after part 12 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Multimillion Vault]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place after part 12 of Integration)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Kandace Jenni Friendship|Kandace and Jenni: A Beautiful Friendship]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place during/after the end of Part 15 of Integration)
* [[User:Robotech_Master/Rochelle Rufia Redux|Rochelle & Rufia Redux: Foxing About]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (takes place after the end of Part 17 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Integral Assassin]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place during part 23 of Integration)
* [[User:Jetfire/Spacer_Oddity| A Spacer Oddity]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Final Countdown|The Final Countdown]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

'''156 to 157 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Spotted Stowaway|Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (starts before "Deserted"; concludes after "Integration" and the "Stonegates" stories)
* [[User:Robotech Master/Yield Ahead|Merging Traffic II: Yield Ahead]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

[[Image:Cybercats001color.jpg|thumb|300px|Rochelle and Kaylee as interpreted by William Levy (http://williamlevy.deviantart.com/)]]'''157 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Impossible Things|Impossible Things]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Aloha Stonegates|Aloha, Stonegates!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Skunked|Skunked!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Paws Up|Paws Up!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/A Wolf at the Door|Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (with ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]''))
* [[User:Robotech Master/A_Wolf_in_Sheep's_Clothing|Wolves in the Fold, Part Two: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Joseph_Life|Joseph Steader, This is Your Life!]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
* The Gondwana Grand Tour ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
** [[User:Robotech_Master/shell_game|Prologue: Shell Game]]
** [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_uplift|Chapter One: Uplift and the Tunnel]]
** [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_nuevosan|Chapter Two: Nuevo San Antonio]]
** [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_sturmhaven|Chapter Three: Sturmhaven]]
* [[User:Robotech Master/Saints Marching|The Saints Go Marching In]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

* [[User:Claude_LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] ''([[User:Claude_LeChat|Claude LeChat]])'' (position in timeline is approximate)
* [[User:Robotech Master/Kevin De-Claude|Kevin, De-Claude]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/youngguns|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Young Guns]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Good Bad Fritzy|The Good, the Bad, and the Fritzy]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Family Lynx|Family Lynx]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Robotech Master/Dog Day Morning|Dog Day Morning]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Robotech Master/When the Lady Smiles|Merging Traffic III: When the Lady Smiles]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'')
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling|Imperfect Coupling]] (''[[User:Claude LeChat|Claude LeChat]]'')

'''157 to 158 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Totalia Prelude|Return to Totalia, Part One: Prelude]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Robotech Master/reindeergames|Jeanette, Tamarind, and the Young Guns: Reindeer Games]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Jetfire/DragonRIDEr_of_Pharos|DragonRIDEr of Pharos]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (Date fuzzy, sometime after Inties are revealed)

'''158 AL'''
* The Durian Crew
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Immigrant Song|Immigrant Song]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Dressed for Success|Dressed for Success]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Thank You for the Music|Thank You for the Music]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Head Over Heels|Head Over Heels]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

*[[User:Robotech_Master/Tick Tock Tick|Tick Tock Tick]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/Spies_Among_Us|Spies Among Us]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/Cat_Scratch_Fever|Cat Scratch Fever]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (Starts in 157 AL)
*[[User:Jetfire/Rescue_911|Rescue 911]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* [[User:Jetfire/United_Way|United Way]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels
** [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Visitors|Part One: Visitors]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')
** [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Clementine|Part Two: Clementine]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')
**[[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Fleet|Part Three: The Fleet]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')
*[[User:Robotech Master/Cold and Wet Nose for News|Cold and Wet Nose for News]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Robotech Master/A Dash from the Past|A Dash from the Past]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

*[[User:Robotech Master/Interchange Ahead|Merging Traffic IV: Interchange Ahead]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
*[[User:Robotech Master/Raising Ruth|Raising Ruth]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
*[[User:Robotech Master/Welcome Back|Welcome (Back) to the Real World]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

*[[User:Jetfire/The_Power|The Power]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/All_Hell_Breakin_Loose|All Hell's Breakin' Loose]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/Riding_The_Eye_of_the_Storm|Riding the Eye of the Storm]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

* [[User:Jetfire/iron_hand_in_a_velvet_glove|Iron Hand in a Velvet Glove]]

* ''[[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]]'' (''[[User:Claude LeChat|Claude LeChat]]'') (takes place after ''Young Guns'')

'''159 A.L.'''

**[[User:Robotech Master/Warm Welcome|Warm Welcome]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' with ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')
**[[User:Jetfire/Slow_Boat|Slow Boat to Zharus]] (''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

=={{separator|f|FreeRIDErs First Drafts}}==

Since we've started going back and revising the early portions of the story to bring the into line with what we wrote later, we have decided to preserve early drafts when they are changed sufficiently to merit a separate presentation. For most of these (but not "FreeRIDErs"), you can also use the "History" function to see what changed.

*[[User:JonBuck/FreeRIDErs|FreeRIDErs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

HawlSera - I really love writing for FreeRIDErs, it's pretty great, but overtime as my writing skills have evolved and to be truthful, most of the FreeRIDE stories I wrote, were done under the influence of illicit stimulants, which overall I feel had a negative effect on my writing ability. I'm now clean and will be rebooting my FreeRIDE stories. The old "canon", (which honestly failed to work with the overarching canon of FreeRIDE) will be in this section

*[[User:Hawl/Simon Of Cape Nord|Simon Of Cape Nord]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/Bob's Origin|Bob's Origin]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/As A Woman I RIDE|As A Woman I RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/At Ace, We RIDE|At ACE, We RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/To Dream, We RIDE|To Dream, We RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/We live to RIDE, We RIDE to Live|We live to RIDE, We RIDE to Live]]''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/Nearing The End Of Our RIDE|Nearing The End Of Our RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]''
*[[User:Hawl/For Victory, For Venars, Together We RIDE!|For Victory, For Venars, Together We RIDE]]'' ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/TWREpilogue:We'll RIDE Again Someday|TWREpilogue:We'll RIDE Again Someday]]
*Cores of Sarium
**[[User:Hawl/Buttercup's Heist|Part 1:Buttercup's Heist]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Takes place during the two days before Part 8 of Integration)
**[[User:Hawl/Ruby Withdrawal|Part 2:Ruby Withdrawal]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/Making a Man Out Of Jamie|Part 3:Making a Man Out Of Jamie]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*Omniverse OverRIDE
**[[User:Hawl/GoKARTers|Part 1:GoKARTers]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Starts in 150 AL, Ends around May 156 AL, about a week or so after FreeRIDErs ends)
**[[User:Hawl/DayOfTheDin|Part 2:Day Of The Din]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/Serve In Hell, Rule In Heaven|Part 3:Serve In Hell, Rule In Heaven]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/In Need Of A Mother|Part 4:In Need Of A mother]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/An_Integrate's_Guide_To_Love|Integrate's Guide To Love]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''

=={{separator|f|Background Material}}==

Due to the huge amount of material, we have moved this to its own page:

[[FreeRIDErs (background material)]]

[[Category:FreeRIDErs]]

User:Claude LeChat/Invader

2016-03-10T16:33:46Z

Claude LeChat: Fixed spelling

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Human]]

{{title
|name=Invader
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{dropcap|I}}t was a beautiful day at the beach, with not a cloud in the sky and just enough wind to temper the burning sun, the piercing cries of seagulls breaking up the heartbeat of waves washing up on hot sand. The meteor shower was just a bonus; nothing like that had been announced, but still they came, strings of silver sparks streaking across the sky. People pointed, watched with binoculars, filmed with their phones, shouts of excitement punctuating the bigger fireballs. But none of them ever came closer than the horizon. For a while, the show seemed to have ended. Then the wind picked up, bringing with it small dark clouds that churned furiously as they raced low over the water. People began to panic, swimmers racing each other ashore while those sunning themselves grabbed their towels and ran. A couple fell off their jet skis, narrowly avoiding one of the clouds that swept close to the shore. For a moment its shape suggested a bird of prey as it hovered above a hastily deserted jetty made slick and wet by the spray. Then it lifted off and sped back out over the water, leaving someone who struggled to stand in the same place.

Among the upturned parasols, three young people, no older than twenty, sat and gaped.

"Was that a twister?" one of the girls asked, bewildered.

"It didn't look like one at all," answered the other one matter-of-factly.

The boy who was with them kept quiet, eyeing the person on the jetty suspiciously. He looked about the same age as the trio, with darker skin, wearing only cargo shorts and sandals, and carrying a satchel. The young man calmly walked up to them as if nothing had happened, carefully picking his way among wind-swept litter.

"May I sit down?" he asked politely.

"Sure!" said the first girl, trying to get the hair out of her eyes for a better look. The other girl echoed her.

"Where did you come from?" asked the boy as the newcomer let himself drop onto the sand. "And don't tell me you survived that thing by hiding among the rocks."

"Be nice, Marcel," his companions admonished.

"No no, you're right," smiled the stranger, flashing perfect white teeth. "I didn't."

"OK," said the more serious girl. "where from, then?"

The young man pointed at the sky, still smiling.

"Are you saying you're from outer space?" the first girl asked again.

Marcel displayed an incredulous grin. "We're supposed to believe that?"

He was answered with a shrug. "You saw me arrive."

"But you look completely human," pointed out the serious one.

"I am completely human," the newcomer said just as seriously. "We have the ability to construct a fully-grown person from scratch, and imprint an existing personality onto them."

"Cool," breathed the first girl, looking at him with big eyes. "So, what's your name? I'm Jeni, this is Veronica. And the jerk over there is Marcel."

"Guess!" the stranger said playfully.

"Vlad?"

"Eugene?"

"Theodore?"

"Silvio? Ahmed? Raj?" added Veronica when the young man hesitated.

"Theodore it is," he replied at length. It had been Jeni's suggestion.

"Cool," she said again, leaning closer to him. "What brings you here, Theodore?"

He winked at her. "The company, of course. It's the first planet with people on it we've encountered in... a long time, really."

"How come you picked us for a first contact?" asked Marcel, with barely contained sarcasm.

"You didn't run away."

Marcel looked around. Stragglers were only now beginning to come back from wherever the earlier wind had chased them off to. In the distance, the strange vortexes still roamed up and down the beach.

"Fair enough," he admitted. "So... fully grown? Does that mean you can make babies, too?"

"Unless I have a manufacturing defect. We didn't test that feature before launch."

"But can you love?" asked Jeni, stretching the last word.

"Oh, definitely!" Theodore livened up. "I've been fitted with the capacity to love anyone."

He was nearly touching Marcel as he said it, smooth skin glistening with perfectly formed drops of sweat, the heat of summer radiating from his body.

"Hey!" exclaimed Marcel, and scurried away. The girls laughed.

"An alien visitation doesn't make sense though," Veronica pointed out. "An interstellar trip would take ages. Literally. By the time you can return home..."

"We don't have a home anymore."

That killed the conversation for a while. A little kid ran past, intent on raising a big kite -- or maybe it was the other way around. A balloon vendor wandered in the opposite direction, holding their straw hat with one hand while wrestling the colorful merchandise with the other.

"Where are my manners?" asked Veronica. She offered a big pack of crackers around. "Want some?"

Theodore accepted a handful and munched gingerly. Jeni poured soda into plastic cups and passed them around.

"So the alien bums are coming to steal our food," Marcel said snarkily, sipping from his. The girls cast him angry looks.

"Maybe I can do something for you in return?" pleaded Theodore. "I don't have any money, but I can work."

"For a glass of soda?" chided Jeni. "Don't be silly. Not that I'd mind someone to come and straighten up my room."

"Of course."

"I was joking."

"Too bad there aren't more of you, Theodore," joked Veronica, elbowing Marcel.

"Ow! I'll clean up my place. One of these days, promise."

"But there are more of us," Theodore said, pointing along the beach. The last of the blurry whirlwinds were dropping off their human-shaped payloads before speeding back out to sea.

Veronica's jaw fell. "You've got to be kidding me. I thought you were kidding. This is some complicated hoax, right? It has to be."

Jeni was looking at him wide-eyed. "Theodore? How many of you are there?"

He shrugged. "How many beaches line the world's oceans?"

Marcel narrowed his eyes. "This is happening all over the world? Right now?"

"Naturally. We don't want to be a burden."

"This isn't a visitation, it's an invasion!" Marcel accused, standing up halfway to point a finger at Theodore. "What do you even have in there, a raygun? Are you going to disintegrate us?"

Theodore looked hurt, the most feeling he'd shown since his arrival. "See for yourself," he said, proffering the satchel to nobody in particular. Jeni accepted it with an apologetic look. She gently unpacked its contents on her blanket: a shirt, a towel, a change of underwear and a journal with two pens. The journal turned out to be blank. None of her friends commented when she started putting it all back in. Theodore knelt to help, and then Marcel was rushing him, fists flying.

He never made it far enough. Blinding light filled his sight, dazzling him, and he landed heavily in the sand. All of a sudden, Theodore was standing just out of reach. They hadn't seen him move. Marcel groaned.

"How did he do that?"

"He didn't," Veronica informed him. "Must have been a kid with a mirror."

"Convenient timing." He squinted at Theodore. "Go back to where you came from! This is our planet! We've been here for millions of years! You're not welcome!"

The other man just stood there, his voice distant. "If I were to embark again now, I would die of old age before the next stop. You're asking me to waste my life in the cold night of space."

"Can't you go into cold sleep or something?" asked Jeni.

He shook his head. "It doesn't work that way."

"Then how did you survive your trip so far?" questioned Veronica.

"By becoming part of the ship itself."

"And now what, you're abandoning it?" she insisted.

"It's long out of warranty. And with all the nuclear missiles pointed at it right this instant, we may not have a ship for much longer."

Jeni watched him with a mix of pity and fear. "What will you do to the world? To us?"

"Nothing much. It's our home now, too. All we want is to live out our lives here. Maybe pass on our knowledge if you let us."

She got up and walked over to him. "I believe you."

Marcel found his feet again too, brushing sand off himself in embarrassment. "I don't feel like staying on the beach anymore."

"Me either," said Veronica. She started getting dressed.

Theodore turned to leave.

"Wait!" called Jeni. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"I'd like to, but..."

"Come on. You need someone to show you around anyway. Do you even know how to cross the street?"

"In theory. It looks dangerous."

Marcel avoided looking at him while they packed. He examined the sand, the crowd milling about as if nothing had happened, the sky and sea that were so calm again.

Far out on the horizon, rocket exhaust trails climbed diagonally into the sky. Five, fifteen, too many to count. Distant thunder rolled from the clear blue above them.

They went up the stairs into town together.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 8 March 2016}}

User:Claude LeChat/Invader

2016-03-10T06:46:15Z

Claude LeChat: Created

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Human]]

{{title
|name=Invader
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{dropcap|I}}t was a beautiful day at the beach, with not a cloud in the sky and just enough wind to temper the burning sun, the piercing cries of seagulls breaking up the heartbeat of waves washing up on hot sand. The meteor shower was just a bonus; nothing like that had been announced, but still they came, strings of silver sparks streaking across the sky. People pointed, watched with binoculars, filmed with their phones, shouts of excitement punctuating the bigger fireballs. But none of them ever came closer than the horizon. For a while, the show seemed to have ended. Then the wind picked up, bringing with it small dark clouds that churned furiously as they raced low over the water. People began to panic, swimmers racing each other ashore while those sunning themselves grabbed their towels and ran. A couple fell off their jet skis, narrowly avoiding one of the clouds that swept close to the shore. For a moment its shape suggested a bird of prey as it hovered above a hastily deserted jetty made slick and wet by the spray. Then it lifted off and sped back out over the water, leaving someone who struggled to stand in the same place.

Among the upturned parasols, three young people, no older than twenty, sat and gaped.

"Was that a twister?" one of the girls asked, bewildered.

"It didn't look like one at all," answered the other one matter-of-factly.

The boy who was with them kept quiet, eyeing the person on the jetty suspiciously. He looked about the same age as the trio, with darker skin, wearing only cargo shorts and sandals, and carrying a satchel. The young man calmly walked up to them as if nothing had happened, carefully picking his way among wind-swept litter.

"May I sit down?" he asked politely.

"Sure!" said the first girl, trying to get the hair out of her eyes for a better look. The other girl echoed her.

"Where did you come from?" asked the boy as the newcomer let himself drop onto the sand. "And don't tell me you survived that thing by hiding among the rocks."

"Be nice, Marcel," his companions admonished.

"No no, you're right," smiled the stranger, flashing perfect white teeth. "I didn't."

"OK," said the more serious girl. "where from, then?"

The young man pointed at the sky, still smiling.

"Are you saying you're from outer space?" the first girl asked again.

Marcel displayed an incredulous grin. "We're supposed to believe that?"

He was answered with a shrug. "You saw me arrive."

"But you look completely human," pointed out the serious one.

"I am completely human," the newcomer said just as seriously. "We have the ability to construct a fully-grown person from scratch, and imprint an existing personality onto them."

"Cool," breathed the first girl, looking at him with big eyes. "So, what's your name? I'm Jeni, this is Veronica. And the jerk over there is Marcel."

"Guess!" the stranger said playfully.

"Vlad?"

"Eugene?"

"Theodore?"

"Silvio? Ahmed? Raj?" added Veronica when the young man hesitated.

"Theodore it is," he replied at length. It had been Jeni's suggestion.

"Cool," she said again, leaning closer to him. "What brings you here, Theodore?"

He winked at her. "The company, of course. It's the first planet with people on it we've encountered in... a long time, really."

"How come you picked us for a first contact?" asked Marcel, with barely contained sarcasm.

"You didn't run away."

Marcel looked around. Stragglers were only now beginning to come back from wherever the earlier wind had chased them off to. In the distance, the strange vortexes still roamed up and down the beach.

"Fair enough," he admitted. "So... fully grown? Does that mean you can make babies, too?"

"Unless I have a manufacturing defect. We didn't test that feature before launch."

"But can you love?" asked Jeni, stretching the last word.

"Oh, definitely!" Theodore livened up. "I've been fitted with the capacity to love anyone."

He was nearly touching Marcel as he said it, smooth skin glistening with perfectly formed drops of sweat, the heat of summer radiating from his body.

"Hey!" exclaimed Marcel, and scurried away. The girls laughed.

"An alien visitation doesn't make sense though," Veronica pointed out. "An interstellar trip would take ages. Literally. By the time you can return home..."

"We don't have a home anymore."

That killed the conversation for a while. A little kid ran past, intent on raising a big kite -- or maybe it was the other way around. A balloon vendor wandered in the opposite direction, holding their straw hat with one hand while wrestling the colorful merchandise with the other.

"Where are my manners?" asked Veronica. She offered a big pack of crackers around. "Want some?"

Theodore accepted a handful and munched gingerly. Jeni poured soda into plastic cups and passed them around.

"So the alien bums are coming to steal our food," Marcel said snarkily, sipping from his. The girls cast him angry looks.

"Maybe I can do something for you in return?" pleaded Theodore. "I don't have any money, but I can work."

"For a glass of soda?" chided Jeni. "Don't be silly. Not that I'd mind someone to come and straighten up my room."

"Of course."

"I was joking."

"Too bad there aren't more of you, Theodore," joked Veronica, elbowing Marcel.

"Ow! I'll clean up my place. One of these days, promise."

"But there are more of us," Theodore said, pointing along the beach. The last of the blurry whirlwinds were dropping off their human-shaped payloads before speeding back out to sea.

Veronica's jaw fell. "You've got to be kidding me. I thought you were kidding. This is some complicated hoax, right? It has to be."

Jeni was looking at him wide-eyed. "Theodore? How many of you are there?"

He shrugged. "How many beaches line the world's oceans?"

Marcel narrowed his eyes. "This is happening all over the world? Right now?"

"Naturally. We don't want to be a burden."

"This isn't a visitation, it's an invasion!" Marcel accused, standing up halfway to point a finger at Theodore. "What do you even have in there, a raygun? Are you going to disintegrate us?"

Theodore looked hurt, the most feeling he'd shown since his arrival. "See for yourself," he said, proferring the satchel to nobody in particular. Jeni accepted it with an apologetic look. She gently unpacked its contents on her blanket: a shirt, a towel, a change of underwear and a journal with two pens. The journal turned out to be blank. None of her friends commented when she started putting it all back in. Theodore knelt to help, and then Marcel was rushing him, fists flying.

He never made it far enough. Blinding light filled his sight, dazzling him, and he landed heavily in the sand. All of a sudden, Theodore was standing just out of reach. They hadn't seen him move. Marcel groaned.

"How did he do that?"

"He didn't," Veronica informed him. "Must have been a kid with a mirror."

"Convenient timing." He squinted at Theodore. "Go back to where you came from! This is our planet! We've been here for millions of years! You're not welcome!"

The other man just stood there, his voice distant. "If I were to embark again now, I would die of old age before the next stop. You're asking me to waste my life in the cold night of space."

"Can't you go into cold sleep or something?" asked Jeni.

He shook his head. "It doesn't work that way."

"Then how did you survive your trip so far?" questioned Veronica.

"By becoming part of the ship itself."

"And now what, you're abandoning it?" she insisted.

"It's long out of warranty. And with all the nuclear missiles pointed at it right this instant, we may not have a ship for much longer."

Jeni watched him with a mix of pity and fear. "What will you do to the world? To us?"

"Nothing much. It's our home now, too. All we want is to live out our lives here. Maybe pass on our knowledge if you let us."

She got up and walked over to him. "I believe you."

Marcel found his feet again too, brushing sand off himself in embarassment. "I don't feel like staying on the beach anymore."

"Me either," said Veronica. She started getting dressed.

Theodore turned to leave.

"Wait!" called Jeni. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"I'd like to, but..."

"Come on. You need someone to show you around anyway. Do you even know how to cross the street?"

"In theory. It looks dangerous."

Marcel avoided looking at him while they packed. He examined the sand, the crowd milling about as if nothing had happened, the sky and sea that were so calm again.

Far out on the horizon, rocket exhaust trails climbed diagonally into the sky. Five, fifteen, too many to count. Distant thunder rolled from the clear blue above them.

They went up the stairs into town together.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 8 March 2016}}

User:Claude LeChat

2016-03-10T06:43:47Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to Invader

{{my stories}} [[Category:Author]]

== About me ==

I'm a recent furry, but lifelong speculative fiction reader, and now a writer too. (As a hobby, mind you.) However, I should probably warn you that I'm somewhat of an outsider to the TF community, drawn here by friends and a number of awesome stories.

== Contacting me ==

I can be most readily be found [http://www.furaffinity.net/user/claudecat/ on FurAffinity] or [http://claudelechat.tumblr.com/ on Tumblr]. Or you can e-mail me via Shifti (I think).

== My stories ==

=== Original ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Dragon's Wish|Dragon's Wish]]: a fantasy flash fiction;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf With the Red Cap|The Wolf With the Red Cap]]: a Rule 63 version of the famous story, with a bit of TF thrown in;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Invader|Invader]]: in order to live on Earth, an alien must give up his entire past;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet|Parole Planet]]: a science fiction novelette about a young man stranded on a distant planet, among strangers with odd customs... that will slowly change him.

=== FreeRIDErs ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] (a stand-alone [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|FreeRIDErs]] story -- can be read on its own without knowing anything about the setting);
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] (a shorter sequel/epilogue of sorts to ''Alpha Camp'');
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]] (third story in the ''Alpha Camp'' series).

----

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling|Imperfect Coupling]]: a stand-alone (and short) TG story.

Feedback on my stories is welcome, but I ''will'' argue with you: I don't do things without a good reason.

== FreeRIDErs humor ==

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Uplift? 
A: MPs come to work wearing pants.

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Aloha? 
A: MPs come to work wearing ''something''.

Q: How do you know it's Casual Friday in Nextus? 
A: There must be some mistake. In Nextus they have Casual ''Monday''.

Why did the RIDE cross the road? Because the road was of the opposite sex.

== Favorites ==

(from Shifti)

* Pretty much anything from the aforementioned FreeRIDErs setting.
* [[User:Sturmovik/Extracted|Extracted]], and other stories from Sturmovik's [[United Federation of Alternate Worlds]] setting.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Destinies|Destinies]], an awesome sci-fi novel by the late Michael Bard, fairly hard SF until near the end. Reminiscent of A.E. Van Vogt and Arthur C. Clarke, except much better written.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Diary_of_a_Centaur_in_a_Human's_World|Diary of a Centaur in a Human's World]], by the same author. Furry transformation done right for a change, with all the body horror it would normally involve.
* Joysweeper's [[501st]] and [[Femtroopers]], from the Xanadu series. Deep psychological TF fiction in an utterly surreal setting.
* [[Refamiliarization]], by Xodiac, another Xanadu story.

FreeRIDErs (setting)

2016-02-19T09:45:30Z

Claude LeChat: /* {{separator|f|Stories in Chronological Order}} */

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}{{DEFAULTSORT:FreeRIDErs (Setting Overview & Story Timeline)}}

{{byline|author=Jon Buck
|user=JonBuck}}

{{byline|author=Robotech_Master
|user=Robotech_Master}}

=={{separator|f|Setting Overview}}==
[[Image:CatGirls.jpg|thumb|300px|Kaylee and Uncia in battle dress, by Marty Salsman (http://martysalsman.deviantart.com)]]In the 25th century, scientists and technicians on the distant colony world of Zharus make a startling breakthrough in energy storage and artificial intelligence, with the aid of "qubitite," a naturally-occurring metamaterial with remarkable quantum properties. The creation of true AI springs from quantum simulations of neural networks based on animals' genetic material that expand to take on true sapience.

Matching these "Reticulated Intelligence" (RI) neural networks with nanotech-composite "Drive Extender" (DE) transforming robotic bodies produces the RIDE: a metallic animal that can transform itself into a vehicle such as a hover-motorcycle (or hover-car or even plane for larger animals), or into an environmentally sealed suit of anthropomorphic-animal body armor to survive the extreme environments of Zharus's deserts, undersea, or even outer space. (Because combining with such a suit goes beyond merely putting it on and involves elements of physical and neural linkage, the act of merging with a RIDE in armor mode is called "Fusing.") Thanks to "hardlight" technology, RIDEs can even be covered with solid holographic fur that feels real to the touch, and even to the RIDE itself.

However, due to their animal basis, Fusing with a RIDE can have consequences for the pilot. In order for them to be neurologically compatible, the pilot has to have similar physical features to the RIDE itself—and the RIDE's nanotech innards are designed to grant those changes. This means that Fusing with RIDEs based on ordinary land mammals will grant the rider their ears and tail (and sometimes more extreme additions such as nose, eyes, or fur).

RIDEs based on further different animals, such as reptiles, birds, or undersea mammals, can produce much extreme changes in their riders that restrict their ability to change back or combine with a different RIDE. And likewise, if the pilot is the wrong gender, the RIDE's nanites will adjust that, too. In most cases of gender or other extreme change, the changed human is unable to safely change back for at least three years.

These RIDEs are used in taming the huge continent of Gondwana, a harsh and often lawless frontier that, unlike the more sedate and longer-settled continent of Laurasia, has many rich resources there for the taking, and a number of city-states occupying the ring of fertile land around the great central desert. In the desert, RIDEs are necessary to live. In the cities, they are urban transportation and playthings of the wealthy and middle-class alike. But even as they are considered mere "equipment" by many, those who know and love them know they are more than that—they are ''people'' too. Will the world come to realize and acknowledge this?

[[Image:Uncia-Harlan-Stein.jpg|thumb|150px|Uncia in battle dress, by Diana Harlan Stein (http://naiadstudios.com)]]In recent years, rumors of a new form of change have been circulating—a combining of rider and RIDE that goes far beyond Fusing. Called "Integration," this combines man and machine into a single gestalt being who can no longer separate—and who are rumored to possess powers far beyond those of mere mortals or RIDEs. It is as yet unclear whether these "Integrates" are to be welcomed or feared—and, indeed, many would place them in the same category as Bigfoot, the Yeti, or the Loch Ness Monster. But these Integrates may be growing tired of keeping to themselves.

And the latest potential threat may very well be the old home world of Earth itself. For fifty years, it has scoffed at the idea that a distant, backward world like Zharus could be the home of so many major technological breakthroughs. But Earth's mind may be changing on that score—and it has long been known for its willingness to reach out and take what it wants.

Welcome to the world of Zharus—and to its denizens. Colonists. Bandits. Miners. Mechanics. ''FreeRIDErs.''

=={{separator|f|Suggested Reading Order}}==

===Robotech_Master's Take===
As this is a shared universe, there could be plenty of jumping-on points. '''The very best way to read it would probably be by publication order,''' since that would give you the same effect as the people who were reading it in real time from the beginning. '''There's a list available [[FreeRIDErs (publication order)|here]].'''

Otherwise, I suggest reading "Deserted", "Merging Traffic", "Rochelle & Rufia: R&R", then "FreeRIDErs", then the first few chapters of "Integration" (and my "Foxed" tales), as those were all written earliest and have most of the earliest setting building in them. Then you can read Jetfire's and the other authors' stories in chronological order, and continue reading "Integration" after that. (Probably should leave "Second-Hand Lioness" until after Integration #21, otherwise some events in the main story could be spoiled.)

I'd suggest to have all of Jetfire's chronologically-earlier stuff read before you get to Integration #14, since that's where some of his characters merge into the storyline. That being said, you could probably just as easily read everything in straight chronological order without missing ''too'' much. Or just pick one writer at random and read his or her works through in order, then pick another one. Once you've read enough, it all starts to make sense together.

Either way, you should read at least some of the stories before you try to dig into the setting background material below the story list on this page. It was mainly written for our own reference and amusement while we built the setting overall, and can be kind of confusing if you come to it without a grounding from the stories in how the world works.

===Claude LeChat's two cents ===

I went a different way myself. ''Deserted'' and ''Merging Traffic'' are of course the mandatory first two, since they introduce the setting and all the most important characters. Then you're free to read e.g. the first three ''Inspecteur Hollins'' stories. But not the fourth, not yet!

Before jumping into the pivotal novel ''Integration'', you'll probably want to read ''FreeRIDErs'', since it provides a crucial bit of background, and possibly ''All Spark Bulletin'', since it's a good introduction to the Munns. But you can't go wrong with any of Jetfire's prequel stories. Fibio's ''Turnover'' will give you a good idea of the spaceship tech in the series, as well as being an emotional story in itself.

Last but not least, ''Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed'' and ''Longer Fused, More Foxed'' fill in a couple of holes in the aforementioned ''Integration'', but you can safely read them afterwards since they're unrelated but for the characters. As for ''Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door'', it makes for a nice "outboard epilogue" to the novel.

Stories that can stand on their own, for readers who aren't familiar with the franchise:

* ''Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway'', but it arguably cheats because it's a spin-off;
* ''As a Woman I RIDE'';
* My own ''Alpha Camp'', if you don't mind minor spoilers for how the conflict of ''Integration'' unfolds.

=={{separator|f|Stories in Chronological Order}}==

[[Image:Faught_kaylee_uncia.jpg|thumb|300px|Kaylee and Uncia in battle gear as depicted by David Faught - https://www.facebook.com/DavidFaughtArtist]]Authors may add links to their stories as they happen in chronological order in story time. ("AL" stands for "After Landing," representing the number of years after the colony ships landed in 2350 AD.) For a complete listing of all FreeRIDErs stories, since this list may be updated sporadically, see [[:Category:FreeRIDErs|the FreeRIDErs Category]].

Stories that have been updated to the "Director's Cut" second draft edition are indicated with a '''(DC)''' afterward.

'''66 AL (2416 AD)'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/The General|The General]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''108 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Aloha|Aloha]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''112 AL to 113 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Greatest Show|The Greatest Show]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' with ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''121 AL to 123 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/GI_Joe|G.I. Joe]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

'''122 AL'''

*[[User:Jetfire/Broken_Crown|Broken Crown]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''128 AL'''
*Marshals: Beginnings
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Ride_Sally|Episode One: Ride, Sally]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Reaping_the_Whirlwind|Episode Two: Reaping the Whirlwind]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''129 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Splashdown|Splashdown]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''131 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Astra-naught|Astra-naught]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''132 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Where_Everybody_Knows_Your_Name|Where Everybody Knows Your Name]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''134 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/The_Lady_of_the_Tiger|The Lady of the Tiger]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''133 AL to 138 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Cave_of_Wonders|Cave of Wonders]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''138 AL to 152 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Sum of Their Parts|Sum of Their Parts]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''140 to 141 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/Fly With Me|Fly With Me]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

'''142 to 150 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/Simon Of Cape Nord|Simon Of Cape Nord]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''

'''143 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Darling_Clementine|Oh My Darling Clementine]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Hawl/Bob's Origin|Bob's Origin]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''

'''144 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/A_Fritzmas_Carol|A Fritzmas Carol]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''146 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/Aloha666|Aloha 666]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]))''

'''147 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/FADE IN|FADE IN]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

'''147 AL to 154 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Spice Girls|Spice Girls]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

[[Image:Zane-Harlan-Stein.jpg|thumb|300px|Zane, and the Zane Cane, by Diana Harlan Stein (http://naiadstudios.com)]]'''148 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/As A Woman I RIDE|As A Woman I RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/At Ace, We RIDE|At ACE, We RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/To Dream, We RIDE|To Dream, We RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/We live to RIDE, We RIDE to Live|We live to RIDE, We RIDE to Live]]''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/Nearing The End Of Our RIDE|Nearing The End Of Our RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]''
*[[User:Hawl/For Victory, For Venars, Together We RIDE!|For Victory, For Venars, Together We RIDE]]'' ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/TWREpilogue:We'll RIDE Again Someday|TWREpilogue:We'll RIDE Again Someday]]

'''149 AL'''
* [[User:Jetfire/In_Space|In Space...]] (149 to 156 AL) ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|Jon Buck]])''

'''152 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Pride_Lioness|Pride of Lioness]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''152 to 153 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Walkabout|Walkabout]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/All_Spark_Bulletin|All Spark Bulletin]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/The_Touch|The Touch]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''153 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/An_Integrate's_Guide_To_Love|Integrate's Guide To Love]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''

'''155 to 156 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/Marshals|Marshals]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' with ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

[[Image:Blackmon-KayleeUncia-lines-01.jpg|thumb|300px|Uncia and Kaylee in battle as depicted by Jacob Blackmon - http://prodigyduck.deviantart.com/]]'''156 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/jeanette-lioness|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Second-Hand Lioness]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (begins before "Deserted" and covers all the way through Integration #21)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Deserted|Deserted]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Hawl/Crossrider's Dream|CrossRIDEr's Dream]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Takes place one week after Chapter 5 of Desserted, but is not a story in the Integration Storyline)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Merging_Traffic|Merging Traffic]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Rochelle Rufia|Rochelle & Rufia: R&R]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/FreeRIDErs_dircut|FreeRIDErs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[Turnover]] '' ([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/ANGLE ON|ANGLE ON]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (Concurrent with the first half of ''Integration''.)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/DISSOLVE TO|DISSOLVE TO]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (Concurrent with ''Integration'' #16-#17.)
*Integration
**[[User:Robotech_Master/All Nighter|Part 1: All Nighter]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Integrates|Part 2: Integrates]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/RIDEgirls Day Out|Part 3: RIDEgirls' Day Out]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Dating Games|Part 4: Dating Games]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/N00bs|Part 5: N00bs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/All Aboard|Part 6: All Aboard!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/A Meating of the Board|Part 7: A Meating of the Board]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Meat the Press|Part 8: Meat, the Press]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Stockholm Vacation|Part 9: Stockholm Vacation]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Spaceflight of Fancy|Part 10: Spaceflight of Fancy]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Citizen Katie|Part 11: Citizen Katie]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/The Crew|Part 12: The Crew]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Kaylee Anny|Part 13: Kaylee & Anny]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Assault Batteries|Part 14: Assault and Batteries]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Task of Amontillado|Part 15: The Task of Amontillado]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Integrate Raids|Part 16: The Integrate Raids]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Family Matters|Part 17: Family Matters]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Many Meetings|Part 18: Many Meetings]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Meetings Completing|Part 19: Meetings Completing]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Prodigals|Part 20: Prodigals]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Enemy Lines|Part 21: Enemy Lines]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Alpha Strike|Part 22: Alpha Strike]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Universe of Battle|Part 23: Universe of Battle]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/What Happened Mouse|Part 24: What Happened to the Mouse?]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/The Big Date|Part 25 (Epilogue): The Big Date]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Slightly Foxed|Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place between Part 5 and Part 6 of Integration)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/More Foxed|Longer Fused, More Foxed]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place between Part 5 and Part 14 of Integration)
*Cores of Sarium
**[[User:Hawl/Buttercup's Heist|Part 1:Buttercup's Heist]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Takes place during the two days before Part 8 of Integration)
**[[User:Hawl/Ruby Withdrawal|Part 2:Ruby Withdrawal]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/Making a Man Out Of Jamie|Part 3:Making a Man Out Of Jamie]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*Omniverse OverRIDE
**[[User:Hawl/GoKARTers|Part 1:GoKARTers]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Starts in 150 AL, Ends around May 156 AL, about a week or so after FreeRIDErs ends)
**[[User:Hawl/DayOfTheDin|Part 2:Day Of The Din]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/Serve In Hell, Rule In Heaven|Part 3:Serve In Hell, Rule In Heaven]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/In Need Of A Mother|Part 4:In Need Of A mother]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Claude_LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] ''([[User:Claude_LeChat|Claude LeChat]])'' (begins in Part 8 of Integration)
*[[Taking the Plunge]] ''([[User:Kris|Kris]])'' (takes place after Part 8 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Cat's Paw]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place during parts 9-11 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Viral Thief]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place sometime after part 12 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Multimillion Vault]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place after part 12 of Integration)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Kandace Jenni Friendship|Kandace and Jenni: A Beautiful Friendship]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place during/after the end of Part 15 of Integration)
* [[User:Robotech_Master/Rochelle Rufia Redux|Rochelle & Rufia Redux: Foxing About]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (takes place after the end of Part 17 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Integral Assassin]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place during part 23 of Integration)
* [[User:Jetfire/Spacer_Oddity| A Spacer Oddity]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Final Countdown|The Final Countdown]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

'''156 to 157 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Spotted Stowaway|Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (starts before "Deserted"; concludes after "Integration" and the "Stonegates" stories)
* [[User:Robotech Master/Yield Ahead|Merging Traffic II: Yield Ahead]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

[[Image:Cybercats001color.jpg|thumb|300px|Rochelle and Kaylee as interpreted by William Levy (http://williamlevy.deviantart.com/)]]'''157 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/A Wolf at the Door|Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (with ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]''))
* [[User:Robotech Master/A_Wolf_in_Sheep's_Clothing|Wolves in the Fold, Part Two: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
* [[User:Claude_LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] ''([[User:Claude_LeChat|Claude LeChat]])'' (position in timeline is approximate)
* [[User:Robotech Master/Impossible Things|Impossible Things]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Aloha Stonegates|Aloha, Stonegates!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Skunked|Skunked!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Paws Up|Paws Up!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Kevin De-Claude|Kevin, De-Claude]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/youngguns|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Young Guns]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Joseph_Life|Joseph Steader, This is Your Life!]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
* The Gondwana Grand Tour ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
** [[User:Robotech_Master/shell_game|Prologue: Shell Game]]
** [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_uplift|Chapter One: Uplift and the Tunnel]]
* [[User:Robotech Master/Good Bad Fritzy|The Good, the Bad, and the Fritzy]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Saints Marching|The Saints Go Marching In]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Family Lynx|Family Lynx]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Robotech Master/Dog Day Morning|Dog Day Morning]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Robotech Master/When the Lady Smiles|Merging Traffic III: When the Lady Smiles]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'')
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling|Imperfect Coupling]] (''[[User:Claude LeChat|Claude LeChat]]'')

'''157 to 158 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Totalia Prelude|Return to Totalia, Part One: Prelude]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Jetfire/DragonRIDEr_of_Pharos|DragonRIDEr of Pharos]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (Date fuzzy, sometime after Inties are revealed)

'''158 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Tick Tock Tick|Tick Tock Tick]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/Spies_Among_Us|Spies Among Us]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/Cat_Scratch_Fever|Cat Scratch Fever]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (Starts in 157 AL)
*[[User:Jetfire/Rescue_911|Rescue 911]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* [[User:Jetfire/United_Way|United Way]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels
** [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Visitors|Part One: Visitors]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')
** [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Clementine|Part Two: Clementine]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')
**[[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Fleet|Part Three: The Fleet]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')

*[[User:Jetfire/The_Power|The Power]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/All_Hell_Breakin_Loose|All Hell's Breakin' Loose]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* ''[[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]]'' (''[[User:Claude LeChat|Claude LeChat]]'') (takes place after ''Young Guns'')

=={{separator|f|FreeRIDErs First Drafts}}==

Since we've started going back and revising the early portions of the story to bring the into line with what we wrote later, we have decided to preserve early drafts when they are changed sufficiently to merit a separate presentation. For most of these (but not "FreeRIDErs"), you can also use the "History" function to see what changed.

*[[User:JonBuck/FreeRIDErs|FreeRIDErs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

=={{separator|f|Background Material}}==

Due to the huge amount of material, we have moved this to its own page:

[[FreeRIDErs (background material)]]

[[Category:FreeRIDErs]]

FreeRIDErs (publication order)

2016-02-19T09:41:18Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to Imperfect Coupling

User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling

2016-02-19T09:38:52Z

Claude LeChat: Created

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:FreeRIDErs]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Wolf]] [[Category:Transgender]]

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}

{{title
|name=Imperfect Coupling
|author=Claude LeChat}}

December 20, 157AL

Business was slow that day at the Freeriders Garage in Uplift, which
as of late happened about as often as dry spells in Cascadia. So it
was quite a special event when Rhianna Stonegate herself came out to
meet the unusual pair in the waiting room: a black she-wolf
accompanied by a bony woman, maybe 40 years old, with raven-black hair
in a ponytail and clad in black denim. As they sat next to each other,
the wolf on her haunches and the woman in a chair, their heads were
roughly at the same height, which only made it more obvious they both
had the same triangular, mobile ears.

"Hi there," she said a little uncertainly. "Welcome to Freeriders. I'm
Rhianna Stonegate, how may I help you?"

"I'm Magnild, miss Stonegate," the wolf said with a surprising amount
of timidity for her fierce looks. "I don't suppose you remember me..."

Rhianna's wide smile begged to disagree. "You're one of Diane's new
girls! I gave you the Rip Van Winkle treatment a few weeks ago."

"That's me!" Magnild positively beamed. Her companion merely nodded
gravely in greeting. "And this is my, um..."

"I'm Joanne Crawford," the other woman said. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," the host answered good-naturedly. "What brings you back so
soon, Magnild?"

The RIDE pointed her muzzle at her fore paws, which were devoid of fur
to unequal heights, scorched metal showing underneath.

"Oh dear." Rhianna bent down to see better. "What happened to you?"

"Well... I was on a supply run..."

"Weren't you going to become a DJ?" interrupted Kaylee, padding lazily
in from the back on her broad fuzzy lynx paws. She stopped next to
Rhianna and gave her a gentle head-butt.

"Ostensibly, yes, but we all have to do a little of everything.
There's no place for prima-donnas at a bar. Especially not Cheers."

Rhianna nodded. "Makes sense."

"And so it happens that I was over at Spirit Ed's when the fire broke
out."

Kaylee froze for a second while she searched the mesh and sent Rhianna
the most relevant results.

"I see." the host looked from Magnild to Joanne. "Let me guess..."

The other woman nodded. "Typical story. We were trapped in the burning
warehouse. I needed shielding to reach the door, and Magnild here
needed thumbs to open it."

Rhianna examined her more carefully. "You crossrode."

"Yes."

"And you're not happy about it."

"It was that or die there. Not alone, either."

"But you're partnered now?" Kaylee interjected again.

Joanne cast her an amused look that said, aren't you a curious kitty?

"More like roommates," said Magnild. She didn't sound very convinced.
"Joanne has an apartment, and I have an income. At least until Eddie
can rebuild."

"None of our business, really," Rhianna said quickly. "Come on, let's
get a good look at that fire damage. Wait here if you don't mind, Ms.
Crawford. We won't be long."

She waved the huge wolf into the back. Kaylee trailed behind for a
moment.

"So," she asked with a complicit wink. "Did you have your crossriding
party yet?"

"My friends know me better than to try," the woman answered stoically.

"You sound ''really'' unhappy about it. Going to cross back when the
time is up then?"

"Ask me again in three years."

There was a moment of silence as Kaylee appeared to have run out of
questions. Then Rhianna poked her head back out. "What's keeping you,
kit-kat? We have work to do."

"Sorry!" the lynx said to both women, and bounced after her partner,
humming the theme song from Spirited Away.

----

There was a stretch of bare ground behind the garage, right under the
edge of a protective dome. Beyond that, the city ended; all one could
see westward through the shimmering hardlight bubble was the Dry Ocean,
reaching out to an impossibly distant horizon that tricked the eye,
covered in nothing but perpetually wind-blown rock and sand. Not far
from there, the road passed through a guarded airlock before turning
southward to join the old desert-side skimmerway. Wolf and woman
walked in the opposite direction, buildings on either side of the
street growing taller as the rising dome made way, small businesses
gradually replaced by apartment blocks.

"I don't understand," said Magnild as the pair entered a small park.
They leaned against each other on the grass beneath an oak tree, tails
wagging in tandem. "Why is everyone giving you grief over not wanting
to be a woman? I mean, sure, back home in Sturmhaven we believe women
are the superior sex, but here we're supposed to be in Gondwana's most
progressive polity."

Joanne snorted. "Aren't you glad you made me a woman?"

"Of course I am. I'm programmed to be. But if it makes you so unhappy,
it's not worth it. Even knowing we had no choice..."

"Well, we didn't. Never regret being alive, kiddo. That way lies
madness." The woman sighed. "To answer your question, we can talk
about 'people, not plumbing' until we're blue in the face, but the
truth is, couples break up all the time because one of the partners
crossrode. Can't even blame them. We've known for over five centuries
that sexuality isn't a choice."

Magnild nodded. "Then I guess Zharus isn't that much more enlightened
than Earth after all."

"No, we're not. Even seen a man wearing a skirt?"

"Now that you mention it... only as a joke, or for shock value. And
that was before the twencen craze took over completely."

"There you go. Ask yourself, why not? After all, that man could have
been a woman just moments before."

"Huh," said the she-wolf.

"Truth is," the woman explained patiently, "gender identity is a part
of us. Imagine ripping out your paws and putting in parts from a tiger
RIDE instead. They'd be bigger, stronger..."

"But not mine. Not ''myself'' anymore. Even if I installed the correct
drivers."

"Exactly. Here we are, able to turn a man into a woman on the lunch
break, with no side effects, and still have time to eat. The dream of
transgender people since forever. But we never quite came to terms
with it. So we throw parties, and act out gender stereotypes, in an
attempt to make it feel like we didn't actually lose anything."

"You lose something, you gain something," pointed out Magnild.

"Yes. Except in life, unlike in math, a plus and a minus don't cancel
each other out."

The wolf stared at the foliage above as if looking for her words.
"Oh my," she said at length, "look at the time. My shift is about to
start."

The woman got to her feet. "Go, kiddo. See you tonight."

"While not ride with me? I'll buy you a drink." The RIDE lifted half
a meter into the air, unfolding into into a sleek skimmer bike with
a pointed front, that seemed to be racing even when standing still.

"You have to let me pay for something one of these days," the woman
chided, but she climbed on nevertheless.

"As soon as you have any money to pay with," countered Magnild. They
drove on, weaving skillfully among the moderate traffic of the early
afternoon.

----

As one of the most famous bars in Uplift, Cheers tended to surprise
new patrons with its contrasts. On the one hand there was the rustic
decor, all wooden beams and wrought iron. Then the fashions on display,
a mix of styles from all over the 20th century, like a neverending
reenactment fair. Last but not least, the clientele itself, from
humans with their RIDEs through Fused pairs and mostly Integrates,
their techno-organic nature proudly paraded. It all made the one woman
alone at a corner table stand out even more.

"May I sit down?" asked a voice confidently. Joanne looked up... and
up... at a fox Integrate with hardlight lenses poking through the fur
on her arms and a scintillating jewel plugged into a socket right
between her breasts. Her tie-dyed sundress looked real -- not a
projection -- and expensive enough. It followed the ample curves of
its owner's body, shifting and wrinkling with every move.

"By all means," replied Joanne, counting the empty tables from the
corner of her eye. Rush hour wasn't even close to starting.

"I haven't seen you around," the vixen said conversationally. She
gestured with a tall glass, filled with a liquid in much the same
colors as her dress. "Cheers."

Joanne raised her own stein. "You wouldn't have." She drank calmly.

"Name's Noelle, by the way," offered the Integrate.

"Joanne," came the flat reply. "Nice to meet you."

The furred woman giggled, covering her pointy muzzle with a hand.
"Don't worry, I'm not trying to pick you up. Just bored out of my
skull."

"That's a relief." Joanne leaned forward and did her best to smile.
"So, you come here often?"

"When I'm not haunting other haunts. Did I mention I get bored easily?"

"That's not a bad thing, if you do something about it. How come you
picked me, though?"

"You look like a girl who likes girls. No offense." The vixen giggled
again.

"Really!" Joanne's smile faded away. "The joke's on you. I like men.
Always have."

"Have you tried? Crossriding does strange things to one's preferences."
Seeing Joanne's face, Noelle added quickly, "Couldn't help but notice,
with my sensors."

"I dunno. Have you tried minding your own business?"

The silence that descended between them was broken by a cheerful black
wolf resting her chin on the table. "Is this person bothering you,
Joanne?"

Joanne shook her head. "Nah..."

"If you say so. Listen, can I borrow you for a moment?"

"Sure thing, kiddo." She walked around the table and stood with her
arms outstretched. Magnild reared up and enveloped her, woman and RIDE
turning into a shaggy werewolf. Together, they were taller than Noelle.
More curvaceous, too.

"Hot damn," said the Integrate. But the Fused pair was already walking
away.

"Thanks for the save, kiddo," Joanne said as their combined form
climbed down into the basement -- a cavernous space with one wall
taken up by tanks of fabber matter, and the rest dedicated to shelves.
Row after row of bottles crowded every flat surface. In a narrow
recess, large crates had been untidily stacked directly on the ground.

"Someone hasn't heard of pallets," Magnild commented, eyeing the
forklift parked nearby. She moved to carry one of the crates to the
dumbwaiter in another corner, then a second one. "Was it true, what
you told that woman?"

"Yeah. Just not the whole truth."

Magnild gave an inward nod. "Maybe you should give her a chance then?
I've seen her before. She's nice."

"Don't you start!" Joanne's anger faded as quickly as it had come.
"All right. Maybe I will. It's not like I have any better options."

----

Window shopping isn't much fun without company, but it beats sitting
alone at home browsing the mesh. Or so Joanne told herself as she
walked the aisles at Uplift Plaza Mall, an orgy of light and color
assaulting her eyes. All around her, happy chatter mixed with the
music and announcements from speakers as visitors milled about, often
engaged in shopping sprees that made their RIDEs look like pack mules.
Free from the pressure of buying, she wandered aimlessly from store
to store, through doorways so wide they made the walls on either side
almost symbolic. The diversity of merchandise was staggering; thanks
to fabber technology, any outlet could carry an astronomical number of
products and only make more of whatever sold, on the spot.

Electronics. Art and craft supplies. Books, toys and tea sets. Clothes.

She saw the young man from afar. He was on the short side, with a
round face, dressed in gray slacks and a plain white shirt topped by
a cardigan. He stood enraptured, admiring a very different outfit:
very short shorts, a baggy blouse and canvas sandals, all in various
shades of blue, pink and purple. The fact that it was displayed on a
female mannequin didn't seem to matter.

"Excuse me," said Joanne, stopping behind him. "Are you going to buy
that?"

He startled. "N-no. Please, go ahead."

"I don't have any money. Besides, it would look great on you."

"You-you think?" The young man's blush brightened the room.

"Very much so. Want me to order for you?"

The blush extended to his ears. "I don't care what people think."

"All right then." She turned to leave.

"Wait!" Something in his voice stopped Joanne in her tracks. "Wanna
hang out?"

"I would like that very much," she stated quietly. "I'm Joanne, by the
way."

"Yanis," he replied. They waited together while the store clerk packed
the young man's wares, casting curious glances in their direction -- a
girl in hispter-ish attire from the 'oughts. Joanne returned a serious
look.

"The evening is still young," she said as they left the store. "How
about we head up to the food court?"

Yanis nodded. "Sure thing. I'll buy."

"Oh, I can afford a burger and a beer. Probably."

"A beer sounds good. Don't worry, I'm 30. Everybody just says I look
ten years younger."

"I didn't say anything." On a whim she added, "How old do I look?"

"Dunno... Thirty-five, at most?"

"Flatterer." She focused on riding the escalators, a broad dumb grin
of happiness on her face.

They never knew when the sky finished darkening and stars began
sparkling through the transparent cupola above their table. Like
Joanne, Yanis only made minimum wage. Unlike her, he'd been paid
recently. More importantly, he still lived with his parents. The
young man was a librarian, and could talk forever about the ways
colonial literature had diverged from its Earth ancestry during
the centuries of interstellar travel.

She could have listened to him all night long, and then some.

"There's something you should know about me," he said as they crossed
the mall's parking lot, skimmers and RIDEs taking off in the buzzing
of lifters. He took a deep breath. "I like men."

Joanne tried not to cry. She tried really hard. It actually worked.

"Friends, then," she managed in the end.

"Deal." They shook hands.

Long after midnight, Magnild found her lying in bed, staring at the
ceiling. The RIDE rested her big head on the sheets, and the woman
petted her furry roommate without a word. They drifted asleep together
at last.

----

It was a modest Christmas party, with fabbed steak and wine and a tree
made mostly of hardlight. Joanne invited some friends over, a married
couple who had arrived from somewhere in southern China with a
shipment of luxury goods and hadn't gone back yet. They kept blaming
the months-long return trip -- at interstellar distances, the "fast"
in faster-than-light is relative -- but Joanne suspected they were
increasingly just making up rationalizations to stay for good. On her
part, Magnild invited a coworker from Cheers: a petite red wolf RIDE
named Anya, who seemed unsure of herself at first. Yanis didn't have
anyone to bring over, so after some deliberation they added Noelle to
the list. It all worked out better than expected. The RIDEs shared
stories from the Nextus-Sturmhaven war over 30 years before, longer
than most of the humans present had been alive. Later in the evening,
the Integrate entertained them with a show that mixed dancing lights,
telekinesis and good old prestidigitation. Dawn found them singing
carols around the tree, wine-powered enthusiasm more than making up
for lack of skill.

For New Year they all went out together to Martinez Square to watch
the globe slowly descend atop the old university building (better
known as Miskatonic U to the students), and counted down along with
the crowd before the tall facade erupted in psychedelic animations
and the dome above them was splattered in virtual fireworks that
lasted for half an hour. Temperature within city limits had been
lowered for the holidays, not to the levels of a real winter, but
enough to bring shivers in people used to eternal summer. Towards
morning they split up. Yanis slept over, using Magnild for a bed. He
didn't have a RIDE partner of his own, and Joanne didn't ask why not,
but the black wolf was growing on him, and she could see the reverse
was true as well. He returned to them later that day to try out his
new clothes, for their eyes alone.

"You know," he told them, "there's an urban legend circulating among
high school students. Supposedly there's this raccoon RIDE who rolled
out of the factory with an unusual quirk: the part of his RI core
that does gender identity was stuck in neutral. So he would make all
his riders androgynous. Still fully functional, mind you, just not
manly."

"I bet most men would rather be women," quipped Joanne.

"Right. So the poor raccoon spent all his life being sold anonymously,
passing from hand to hand until RIDEs got their freedom. And he's
still out there somewhere, looking desperately for a partner who would
accept him the way he is."

"Would you?" Magnild asked gently.

Yanis took a good while to answer. "There aren't many other RIDEs I'd
consider getting."

"Me either," said Joanne. "But for now I'm stuck with Magnild here."

"Stuck? How so?"

They told him the whole story. He was very quiet for a long while
afterward.

----

"We don't have to be Fuse partners, you know," Magnild told Joanne one
slow day, as they took the stock at Cheers. RFID tags tended to fall
off or stop working, so there was no avoiding a manual inventory now
and then. "It will make things that much harder in three years when
you crossride back."

"Are you sure I will?"

"For Yanis? I'd crossride for him myself if I could. But I'm built to
be female and nothing else. That's why a RIDE changes its rider, and
not the other way around."

Joanne smiled sadly. "That's not the issue. Why would he wait for me?
Sooner or later he'll find a nice boy who will make him happier than
I ever could, then it will be over. No more reason for me to go back."

"Tsk," the she-wolf gently scolded her. "You should learn to trust
people more. Yourself included."

The woman wanted very much to do just that. But how do you even grasp
at straws when there's none in sight? She bit her lip and focused on
the job at hand. It didn't really help.

With New Year behind them, business was picking up again. Auditors
finally got around to doing their jobs, the insurance money came
through, and halfway through the month Spirit Ed reopened its doors.
The first thing Joanne did was to ask for a raise. As expected, she
was promptly let go. It didn't take long until Yanis found her another
job with a bookstore at the mall. For all the virtual reality and fast
time, some people still enjoyed reading books the old-fashioned way,
and thanks to fabbers a deluxe edition bound in imitation leather was
no more expensive than a cheap paperback -- unless of course somebody
wanted a genuine handmade book. If anything, with billions of titles
always available, a bookstore was first and foremost in the business
of curation. Why, just the serial novels detailing Clint Brubeck's
imaginary adventures dwarfed the legendary explorer's already epic
biography by two orders of magnitude.

A day like any other, Joanne carted a batch of books from the back and
started arranging them on shelves. But for some reason she couldn't
read the titles. She rubbed her eyes, and was surprised to find her
fingers wet.

"It's only three years," she reminded herself. "Time flies. You won't
even notice."

She couldn't even believe her own lie. So she furiously went back to
work, putting all her mind into the repetitive motions.

"Only three years... Only three years... Only three years..."

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 2016-02-18}}

User:Claude LeChat

2016-02-19T09:33:17Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to Imperfect Coupling

{{my stories}} [[Category:Author]]

== About me ==

I'm a recent furry, but lifelong speculative fiction reader, and now a writer too. (As a hobby, mind you.) However, I should probably warn you that I'm somewhat of an outsider to the TF community, drawn here by friends and a number of awesome stories.

== Contacting me ==

I can be most readily be found [http://www.furaffinity.net/user/claudecat/ on FurAffinity] or [http://claudelechat.tumblr.com/ on Tumblr]. Or you can e-mail me via Shifti (I think).

== My stories ==

=== Original ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Dragon's Wish|Dragon's Wish]]: a fantasy flash fiction;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf With the Red Cap|The Wolf With the Red Cap]]: a Rule 63 version of the famous story, with a bit of TF thrown in;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet|Parole Planet]]: a science fiction novelette about a young man stranded on a distant planet, among strangers with odd customs... that will slowly change him.

=== FreeRIDErs ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] (a stand-alone [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|FreeRIDErs]] story -- can be read on its own without knowing anything about the setting);
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] (a shorter sequel/epilogue of sorts to ''Alpha Camp'');
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]] (third story in the ''Alpha Camp'' series).

----

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Imperfect Coupling|Imperfect Coupling]]: a stand-alone (and short) TG story.

Feedback on my stories is welcome, but I ''will'' argue with you: I don't do things without a good reason.

== FreeRIDErs humor ==

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Uplift? 
A: MPs come to work wearing pants.

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Aloha? 
A: MPs come to work wearing ''something''.

Q: How do you know it's Casual Friday in Nextus? 
A: There must be some mistake. In Nextus they have Casual ''Monday''.

Why did the RIDE cross the road? Because the road was of the opposite sex.

== Favorites ==

(from Shifti)

* Pretty much anything from the aforementioned FreeRIDErs setting.
* [[User:Sturmovik/Extracted|Extracted]], and other stories from Sturmovik's [[United Federation of Alternate Worlds]] setting.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Destinies|Destinies]], an awesome sci-fi novel by the late Michael Bard, fairly hard SF until near the end. Reminiscent of A.E. Van Vogt and Arthur C. Clarke, except much better written.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Diary_of_a_Centaur_in_a_Human's_World|Diary of a Centaur in a Human's World]], by the same author. Furry transformation done right for a change, with all the body horror it would normally involve.
* Joysweeper's [[501st]] and [[Femtroopers]], from the Xanadu series. Deep psychological TF fiction in an utterly surreal setting.
* [[Refamiliarization]], by Xodiac, another Xanadu story.

User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father

2016-02-01T18:19:15Z

Claude LeChat: Improved Claude's description

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:FreeRIDErs]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Wolf]]

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}

{{title
|name=The Wolf and the Father
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://www.furaffinity.net/view/18462599/ from FurAffinity]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

Fri October 12, 158AL

{{dropcap|I}}t's an oft-repeated truism that human beings have no sense of scale.
At least native Zharusians are better in this regard than their
ancestors on Earth. Even so, the mind boggles at the scale of a desert
that could swallow entire continents from mankind's planet of origin.
Countless brave souls scouring that vastness for over a century
haven't come close to exhausting its secrets; how many perished in
the attempt, nobody could tell.

So it happens that even today few people would know where to find the
handful of hardlight domes sheltering a town of maybe five thousand
from the inferno that is the Dry Ocean. Here, the wind can flay meat
right off the bones and boil blood before it spills on the ground,
while a few steps away, inside the shimmering barrier, it's like being
inside an air conditioned building.

The residents of Alpha Camp are grateful for it. Doubly so as some of
them still remember the last time the domes failed.

An evening like any other, one of the latter was patiently making his
way through the thickening traffic along Main Street: a young man,
lightly built, with brown skin and hair that wouldn't stay combed.
He was hovering one meter off the ground on a skimmer bike with
organic curves reminiscent of a stylized wolf; his t-shirt and jeans
looked especially plain among outfits from all over the twentieth
century, brought back to life by the vagaries of fashion after five
hundred years.

At length, he made his way to the small park at the very center of
the town, pulling over next to a water well straight out of a
Spaghetti Western. He reached over to place a big paper bag on a
nearby bench, his other hand brushing over the dashboard in an oddly
tender gesture. To that the bike reacted, unfolding like a giant metal
origami which enveloped the young man completely. A hardlight furcoat
flickered into being. Seconds later, it was a three-meter-tall
humanoid wolf who stood there, wearing only a metal kilt for modesty.
The new creature sat on the bench and opened the bag, revealing a big
home-made sandwich and a couple of apples.

"Remember when we first ate together, Alex?"

"How could I forget, Rafe? Flora and Henriette had made us a bag just
like this one."

The young man's voice broke. Tears welled up in his eyes. From outside,
his living armor seemed firm as a rock, but inside man and machine
clung to each other for strength.

"We were... we were sitting right here... at dusk..."

"Shh... let's eat now."

They did so in silence. The sun descended towards the horizon,
painting the treetops red, then even the long Zharusian day ended.
A foam of stars winked into view across the darkening sky. That, too,
stirred up memories.

"What's troubling you, Rafe?"

"Is it so obvious?" The RIDE chuckled -- a mechanical grinding noise.

"It's this whole Beta Camp affair, isn't it? I'm shaken too, if it's
any consolation."

Rafe gave an inward nod. "What if I hadn't gotten to you first, back
in the bad old days?"

Alex shivered. It was a while before he answered. "At least Leona will
never bodyjack anyone again. And to think it was our very own Jeanette
who caught her."

"Hey, Jeanette is the only human in Alpha Camp who bodyjacked her RIDE
instead of the other way around. That has to count for something."

Human and RIDE shared a nervous laugh. Around them, a light breeze
picked up: the domes were large enough to have their own microclimate.
Other stragglers were walking the alleyways. Humans with RIDEs. Humans
''in'' RIDEs. Integrates. One or two even waved to the pair. It didn't
help their mood much.

"Let's go home, Rafe, we have work tomorrow."

The metal origami unfolded again, but this time Rafe didn't go back to
his vehicle form, instead adopting that of his natural counterpart:
an arctic wolf. The night wind ruffled his fur, and he leaned heavily
against his friend. They walked away touching each other at every step.

----

The clickety-clack of high heels echoed along the gloomy corridor,
punctuated by slower, heavier steps. The young woman was plump, with
freckled face and wavy red hair; her dress would have been the height
of fashion in 1938 London. At her side walked a brown bear, wearing
a hat in the same style and matching necklace, but nothing else.
No-one seemed to notice their presence as they went past door after
closed door on either side, silence ringing behind each and every one.

It was a spartan antechamber that awaited at the far end, but nobody
there to stop them. They strode right through, into an office bathed
in blinding sunlight that the venetian blinds did little to temper.

Someone else was present after all, a three-meter tall humanoid wolf
who stood on empty air half a meter above the floor, hands and muzzle
hidden by an open panel in the ceiling. His ears swiveled in the
direction of his guests, and he floated down to the floor, derezzing
the screwdriver he was holding.

"Alice! Helga!" The wolf took a step towards the girl, tail wagging,
then checked himself. It was her who stepped forward and hugged him.

"Figured I'd find you two here. Why are you doing the electrician's
job?"

"I am an electrician, remember? No point in waiting for the repairman."

The girl pouted. "Guys... Aren't you working two jobs already? I
hardly ever see you anymore."

"Oh." The wolf's tail drooped, then perked up again. "But we went out
on Sunday! Spent all the day together, didn't we? And the night."

"That was the other Sunday," she replied drily, hands on her hips.
"Wait... Rafe, would you mind letting Alex out for a moment?"

"Huh? Sure." Wolf and man separated in one fluid motion. By day, the
latter looked distinctly haggard, with ugly bags under his eyes.

"Alex," asked the girl very quietly, "when was the last time you took
a vacation?"

"Don't need one," he protested, right before his knees buckled. She
caught him and lowered him gently on a chair. He looked like a child
as he sat slumped on furniture sized for fused RIDEs.

"Told you so," quipped the she-bear.

"So you did, Helga." The young woman dropped in another chair, her own
bear ears flat against her head. "Rafe, why didn't you tell me he was
overworking himself? Why didn't you stop him?"

Now quadrupedal, Rafe looked very guilty. "I tried to tell him..."

"Tell him?! You should have forced him!"

"You know I won't do that!" replied the RIDE, suddenly angry. He
calmed down just as quickly and licked Alex's face before curling up
at the young man's feet. Helga padded over to nuzzle him.

Across from them, Alice clutched her purse nervously. "Alex, why? What
are you trying to prove?"

The young man bit his lips.

"That's it," she said. "I'm comming Alpha Wolf. You have to take a
break."

"But..." Alex complained weakly. "He needs us here... Alpha Camp is
too big now, and..."

She stared him down.

"All right, all right." He started getting up again. "Let me see if
Claude and Kevin can cover for me next week."

"They're not in the office, Alex. Nobody's in the office. It's
Saturday."

Alex's wolfish ears and tail drooped, just like Rafe's earlier. After
a moment, Alice's expression softened, and she moved to walk him out
the door. "Let's get you home, love. You need a nice long sleep and
a big warm meal, then we can comm the cat and his human."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>One week? Really?:: Helga sent privately.

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Baby steps, sis...:: Alice replied with a mental sigh.

Behind them, the office remained just as quiet as the rest of the
building. Only the sun continued its slow arc in the sky.

----

The living room wall lit up and acquired depth, like a window opening
onto a different place altogether -- a virtual one, as it happened:
the porch of an old American farmhouse, complete with rocking chair.
A young man occupied the latter, looking not unlike Alex except for
the pasty white skin, and a body in better shape despite being ten
years older. He was dressed for his surroundings, and busied himself
petting a fluffy white Persian cat, whose purring made the hidden
speakers thrum.

"Rafe, Alex. Haven't seen you in a while, guys. What's up?" The young
man's thick East European accent had softened considerably over the
past year, and he sounded a lot more self-assured than they remembered
him. "Actually, is everything all right? You don't look so hot."

"Yeah. We've just been working a lot."

"Tell me about it, man. You're always first in the office. And last."

"Yeah. About that. Listen, Alice wants me to spend more time with her."

"Woo! Congratulations, man. And celebrations. This ''is'' a good thing,
right? It's what you want, too?"

"I do! I do... but there's more." Alex breathed deeply. "She wants me
to take a vacation and introduce her to my parents."

The man on the other side of the screen perked his feline ears. "So,
go for it! When was the last time you went home, anyway?"

Alex's shoulders sagged. "Not since I left..."

"Yikes! Then what are you waiting for, man? A kick in the behind? Go!
We can hold the fort for a while. Right, Kevin?" he asked the cat in
his lap.

"I thought he'd never ask," the cat deadpanned, looking up at him. "Oh
wait, he still hasn't."

The look of embarassment on Alex's face was worthy of a bad anime.

"Is it settled, then?" Alice padded in, balancing a tray that could
barely contain the mountain of food piled up on it. She lowered it to
the coffee table before lounging on the couch next to Alex, and shoved
a big fat falafel in his hands. On the screen, man and cat alike stood
straight, licking their lips and chops, respectively. The girl giggled.

"Want some? Come on over, we can have a good bye party. My doggy boy
here has such a nice pad and never uses it for anything." She ruffled
Alex's hair, not that it made a difference.

"I'm a wolf, not a dog," Rafe pointed out playfully, raising his head
from behind the couch.

"Wolves are supposed to be dignified," she countered, and ruffled
Rafe's fur as well.

"Bears aren't." Helga arrived from the other room only to roll over
on the floor, kicking lazily at the air. Even Alex managed to laugh.

It didn't take long for the guests to arrive. A small town is made
even smaller when people can fly. In meatspace, Kevin was as big as
Rafe, an impressive avatar of Grumpy Cat. They sat on the other couch,
Claude hugging his feline tail while the RIDE turned into a fluffy
backrest. Why they were called RIDE couches as opposed to ottomans
was a mystery for the ages.

"So, how's your life been, Claude?" asked Alex while opening the beer.

"Touristy! Kevin took me places. Aloha, Cascadia, even Nextus once."
He paused to take a sip from the frosted bottle. "You know, it's
strange. Back home, I used to spend most of my time in VR. But here,
I can't get enough of the real world."

"I wonder why," snerked Kevin.

"Well... it helps that the women in Aloha love a slender catboy."
Claude stretched as if to demonstrate, winking at Alex. "The men, too."

"Hey!" Alice stabbed at the air with a chicken skewer. "He's mine!
Paws off, tomcat!"

She tore at the meat with her teeth, growling for emphasis. Even Kevin
couldn't help smiling.

"Humans..." he muttered.

The party only took off from that moment on. At some point it was
night, then dawn, and daylight again. The sun was rising when they
finally went to sleep.

----

If you follow the Neaera eastward, upstream from Zharustead, the first
thing you notice are the endless wheat fields hugging the riverbanks
as a blue ribbon meanders across Laurasia, pooling into pretty little
lakes here and there before moving on. Farther out, forests and
marshes cover the land in a patchwork of earthy colors before blurring
together in the distance. From place to place, a silo or radio tower
gleams in the sun, as if to reassure travelers that they are never too
far from civilization.

The savage continent of Gondwana is half a planet away.

As the sun started its long descent towards the Thalassic Ocean, two
shooting stars moved in the opposite direction at nearly the speed of
sound. Helga's vehicle form hardly suggested it, but she had no
trouble keeping up with Rafe's perpetually underpowered lifters.
Politeness alone kept her from taking the lead; this was, after all,
Alex's home. It was only fair that he showed the way, if only as a
symbolic gesture: their destination was visible to the naked eye by
now.

"Venars started out as a farming town," the young man spoke into his
comm implant, "and it still is, for all their bragging. Ask my parents,
there's nothing to life but hard work and austerity."

Fifty meters to the side, Alice nodded at the camera on her dashboard.
"That's why you left?"

"It was that or the Continental Guard."

She nodded again. The city's skyline raised before them, a mass of
grey towers south of the river, while to the north a single long road
branched out like a pine tree before dissolving into suburbia, then
farmland.

"What's that?" asked Helga, indicating a third of a ring circling the
west side of the city, higher than most buildings.

"The Sky Bridge," explained Alex. "All that's left of the old weather
dome. They didn't have hardlight a century ago."

"Ooh! Can we visit?"

"I'm yet to meet a tourist who doesn't."

The skimmer bikes were flying lower now, their shields turning from
shimmering bullet shapes to barely visible blobs as the RIDEs shed
most of their speed, and they eased onto the invisible spiderweb
weaved by traffic beacons. They touched down on a lively street,
between a garage with a funky name and a pizzeria that seemed to be
on its way out.

"There are more RIDEs than I remember," noted Alex. His helmet
derezzed, and he got out of the saddle to let Rafe transform.

Alice did the same. "Is that unusual?"

"This side of the pond, it is. Then again, Venars was always...
special."

"So we won't attract stares," Helga said pragmatically.

"As if I care," counted the young woman. She surveyed the Brutalist
architecture of the area, hands on her hips. "Pretty impressive,
actually. Your parents live downtown?"

"No way," laughed Alex. "The family estate is up north. I just wanted
to give you the grand tour first."

"Are you sure you don't want to get a hotel room?"

"Mom would be offended if we didn't stay with her."

The wolf paced around. "Do we ride there?"

"It's a short walk, Rafe. Half an hour, tops."

"That's short?!"

"You've never spent much time on a farm, have you?"

Helga was already strolling down the street. "Coming, girl?"

"As soon as I can get the boys to move."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Still pondering what to tell your parents?:: sent Rafe as they
followed. ::Delaying the inevitable helps little, Alex.::

<nowiki>::</nowiki>I know...::

They dragged their feet after the girls, while a colorful crowd
swirled around them, humans and machines mingling together like one
big happy family.

----

Beyond East Square, with its fountains and moving metal sculptures,
behind the concrete geometry of the new town hall, monumental stairs
climb down to the riverbank, at one end of a long and narrow public
park dotted with beer gardens. The city's three bridges are clearly
visible from here, spaced no more than one kilometer apart; the one in
the middle allows the main road to cross the water. On the other side,
rows of ancient apartment buildings soon give way to small businesses
with ample parking spaces in front: most residents still use skimmers
rather than RIDEs. From every sidestreet beckons the shade of trees
leaning out over decorative fences.

Down one of these streets, far enough that verdant hills and blue sky
can be seen at the other end, stretches a wrought iron fence backed by
a tall hedge, one painted a vivid green, the other in the colors of
autumn. From the gate, an alley covered in dead leaves passes through
the shadow of cherry trees to a sprawling house in the background, its
spotless white walls contrasting with the cracked, uneven flagstones.

"Nobody's home," spoke Alex, after ringing the interphone failed to
elicit a reaction. "And they changed the encryption keys, too."

"My batteries are getting low.", Helga reminded him.

"We have RIDE-safe sockets in the garden. A water tap, too. I'm sorry,
that's..."

"Those were luxuries for us two years ago," Rafe reminded him.

"And look what I have," added Alice, holding up two handfuls of energy
bars.

Alex blinked. "When did you even... Never mind, I don't want to know."

They were having seconds by the time crackling dry leaves signaled new
arrivals. The woman resembled an older version of Alex, except dressed
in a sari worthy of Phileas Fogg's princess. The man was rounder than
Alice and just as fair-skinned, with dark blond hair cleanly cut below
the edge of a homburg. His three-piece suit was straight out of the
Roaring Twenties, complete with gold chain going into a breast pocket.
Neither was going gray yet, despite looking to be in their sixties
already: Zharusians were seldom in a hurry to have kids.

"Amma?" whispered Alex, slowly getting up from the table. "Amma!" he
shouted, wrapping his arms around the woman so hard she gasped.

"Easy, son," said her companion. "Save some for your old man."

"Oh. Hello, dad." Alex hugged him as well.

The woman was trying in vain not to cry. "Our son has grown up."

"So I see," agreed the man. "And who are your friends, son?"

"Ah... Alice, Helga, these are my parents. And this is Rafe," he added.
hugging around the wolf's neck.

"I'm Sahzadi," said the woman with a curtly bow. "Welcome."

"George Hunter," added Alex's father. "Nice to meet you."

They all looked at each other for a moment.

"Aren't you going to ask our son how he's doing?"

"What's the point?" retorted Hunter senior. "I can see he's in one
piece."

She shook her head slowly. "Come inside, everyone. You must be tired.
Just watch your step, I'm afraid our house was built before RIDEs."

"Speaking of which," added her husband. "You never told us you did
have a RIDE, son."

"Actually Rafe has me, dad. But I must have mentioned him in my
e-mails?"

The older man frowned at the correction. "It slipped my mind. I'm not
twenty anymore."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Should I feel offended?:: Rafe sent as they entered.

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Yes... but don't bother telling dad, he won't understand.::

In all honesty, the ranch-style house had far more floor space than
its occupants needed, like mostly anything built on Zharus. It was
cluttered, though, and more than one door was too narrow for Helga.
They ended up sitting on the back porch, with the bay doors wide open.
Halfway to nowhere, tractors tenaciously combed the dark soil.

"You should have commed ahead," Mrs. Hunter said mildly as she brought
coffee and homemade cookies. "We were in town to meet someone."

"It's my fault," explained Alice. "We wanted to surprise you."

"I hear you're a doctor?" Hunter senior asked her.

"Why, yes," she chirped. "At the best clinic in Alpha Camp."

"The only clinic in Alpha Camp," specified Helga. Alice poked her.

"Alpha Camp?" Mrs. Hunter asked worriedly, glancing at Rafe. "Isn't
that where all those evil RIDEs were? Why, I remember talking to Mrs.
Vernon at the time..."

Alex facepalmed. "Amma, I was there. It wasn't like that."

She looked helplessly at her husband, who merely frowned again. "So...
how long are you staying?"

"Well," said Alice, "we were thinking to go for a tour of Laurasia
since we're here. Our vacation lasts until the first of December."

"I still can't believe Alpha Wolf gave us a six-week break," added
Alex.

His father's frown deepened. "You work for a RIDE?" The icy tone left
no doubts as to the man's opinion.

Alice sipped cold coffee and changed the subject.

----

In the soft afternoon light, a humanoid wolf sat with his back against
an oak tree, overlooking an irrigation canal half full of dirty water.
Far away, the tractors still worked tirelessly: Virtual Intelligences
didn't need breaks. Much closer, a rat darted by, almost invisible in
the brown grass. A dragonfly landed in the ditch, only to have a fish
jump after it. Higher up the bank, children with interface spectacles
sat on a broken fence, waving their hands through the air with little
shrieks of delight.

The wolf didn't move even when heavy steps came from behind the tree.
Fused, Alice and Helga were the very definition of a Mama Bear, thick
fur making them seem even bigger than their already substantial bulk.
A faux leather skirt and apron preserved their modesty where that
wasn't enough. Woman and machine sat next to the other pair, and the
tree groaned.

"All that was going to be mine one day, you know." Alex waved his hand
at the farmland spread in front of them.

"What happened?"

"Dad decided I wasn't worthy of it, and then I left. Since then, he
keeps threatening to sell the whole lot. Mom stops him every time."

"Now I understand why you were in no hurry to take a vacation.
Shouldn't have insisted."

He shrugged. "Coming home is a rite of passage. We had to do it sooner
or later."

"I guess." She was silent for a while. Then, "What will you do now?"

"Try and enjoy the stay. For mom's sake."

She nodded slowly.

"Come on." The wolf got up. "Let me show you one of my favorite
childhood places."

They raised into the air hand in hand, lifters sparkling, and floated
towards a patch of forest across the canal. Behind them, two children
took off their specs and gazed in awe.

----

The morning light seeped into the hallway through the crack of a door.
Inside, the bedroom looked barely touched, just as it had been for
the past two years. Even the bed was made. On a closer look, somebody
slept in the room after all: Alex and Rafe were on the carpet, hugging
each other so close it was had to tell where one body ended and the
other began. The boy's mother watched for a moment, wiped a tear, and
tiptoed out, closing the door after her.

Back in the kitchen, Alice was still nursing her tea, in pajamas
stamped with teddy bears, while Helga peeked in through the window.
The former got up as their host came back in, and moved to help with
dishes.

"Why, thank you, dear. I'll have breakfast done before you know it."

She fired up the stove, and Alice boggled. "You cook?"

"When I have the time. Don't you?"

"Ha ha, no way. I'm just handy with a fabber."

"To each his own," the older woman said graciously. "Say, dear, can I
ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What's the relationship between you and Helga?"

The she-bear tilted her head, but kept quiet.

"I don't know," mused Alice. "Never really thought about it. We're
basically sisters, I think. Right, sis?"

"Works for me, girl."

Their host fiddled with the content of a sizzling pan. "What about
Alex?"

Alice sipped more tea. "You mean whether we're just friends with
benefits, or in love, or serious about living together?"

"She means Rafe," Helga said quietly.

"What about us?" Alex walked into the kitchen yawning, his hair even
more of a mess than usual, if that was possible. Rafe poked his head
in, but there was no more room.

"He does that every morning," said his mother. "The smell of warm food
wakes him right up."

"Good morning to you, too. Where's dad?"

"He went to the bank early to try and get ahold of a real
representative. Virtual intelligences are so unhelpful."

The young man grabbed a chair. "Why does he need to go there in person?
They don't take calls at your bank?"

"I... didn't think about that." She set a plate in front her son and
started filling it. "But you know your father."

Her comm rang.

"Seriously?" she said, and rubbed her pendant in a complex motion.
The wall opposite the cooking range lit up.

"Mrs. Hunter?" asked the person on the screen, an androgynous face and
voice. "This is Venars General. Your husband has been pulled from the
river half an hour ago. He was under the influence."

----

"He'll be fine," the holographic figure told them -- the same who had
spoken to them on the comm, and in the same impassible tone of voice.
"You can take Mr. Hunter home as soon as the doctor is finished."

"I want to see him right now," stressed Mrs. Hunter.

"That would be against the rules, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"Can we at least know who rescued Mr. Hunter?" interrupted Alice.
"We'd like to say thanks."

"That would be Officer Mizuno over there." The receptionist indicated
an otter Integrate wearing bell-shaped shorts and a vest of many
pockets over a swimming suit. Glowing lines underscored her athletic
body where clothing or fur didn't cover them. Trying to guess at her
age would have been a fool's errand.

"Vicky, please," the woman said, approaching. "I'm not even on duty."

Alex stopped his mother from falling to her knees. "Thank you," she
said, then tears choked her.

"How did it happen?" asked Rafe.

The otter sighed. "He apparently fell off Big Bridge through a hole in
the handrail. Do you know if he has a drinking habit?"

"He used to..." said Alex.

"He started again after you left," his mother explained. "Thought he
could hide it from me, too."

"Is it possible he tried to commit suicide?" asked the policewoman.
"Sorry... this must be hard for you. Old habit. We can talk later."

"No... it's all right." She steeled herself. "My George would never do
that."

"Why do you ask?" intervened Rafe.

Mizuno hesitated. "I don't want to alarm you, but there's been a wave
of suicides among farmers in the region as of late."

"Financial reasons?" asked Helga. The officer nodded.

"Mom," Alex asked quietly, "is there something you're not telling me?"

She didn't have time to answer. The doors leading further in from the
hospital lobby opened, admitting someone in a wheelchair and escorted
by nurses.

"Right," said Mizuno. "We'll keep in touch." But by then nobody had
eyes for her anymore. She extended a hand, making a sporty bag leap
onto her shoulder from three meters away, and walked out.

The whole family gathered on a bench in front of the building, among
waist-high rose bushes. The air was cooler than the previous day, and
clouds were gathering, graying out the sky.

"I'm telling you I was pushed!" the man repeated for the second time.

"Dad, we have footage from the security cameras. Nobody was with you."

Hunter senior retreated into a morose silence.

"Did you run into someone at the bank, George?"

He nodded. "Papa Janiczek. They wouldn't refinance his loan either, so
we went for a drink. But there was someone... someone else. Sah, are
you sure we have no other options?"

"I went over the books three times since you last asked me. We're
bankrupt, George."

He started crying, and she wrapped his shoulders in a hug. After a
moment, Alex joined in.

"Dad, who cares? It's just a piece of land."

"How can you say that, son? I left the army when your mother was
pregnant. Bought this farm so I'll have something to leave you when
you grew up. But then you never returned home. What am I supposed to
do with my life now?"

A chilly wind was the only answer that fit.

"Let's go home. You and mom can ride with Helga, she's got more room."

"That will be the day, when I need a RIDE to carry me!" the older man
said rudely, slapping his son's hand away. "What am I, a cripple?"

He tried to get up.

He failed.

"OK..." he puffed. "OK... just this once."

----

The sky was a slab of cement above the city, and the old oak tree was
shedding its last leaves. Alex sat with his back against the rough
bark, throwing pebbles into the ditch. The tractors couldn't be seen
that day, but a low rumble reached him through the hazy air. Farm work
had to go on. Off to a side, Rafe lay on the ground in a tight ball.

"Rafe, come on. What's wrong?"

"Your father thinks I'm making you weak."

"Well he's wrong! I'm making you strong. That's the point. It's why
you wanted me in the first place."

"It was selfish of me. I see that now."

"No, it was selfish of him to think of me as yet another achievement
to be proud of, and nothing more."

"That's why you've been working so damned hard as of late? To prove
him wrong?" The she-bear gently lowered herself to the ground next to
the young man, and he startled, having failed to notice the hum of
lifters.

"I work because I have a purpose," Alex said stubbornly. "That's what
Rafe gave me."

"But you're destroying yourself. Who will be left to do your work if
you fall apart?"

He didn't answer.

"Anyway," resumed the she-bear, "we've been reviewing the public
records of small farms in the region."

"Found anything?"

"I could swear there's some sort of pattern, but it's just out of
reach. I'm not Kevin."

Thinking of the misanthropic RIDE who had taken so long to find
himself a human made Alex snort. Even for a walking quantum
supercomputer, the cat was exceptionally good at crunching numbers.

"Yeah, too bad he's not here. Oh wait, that's our fault."

The she-bear chuckled. "Right. Well, I was thinking. You should go
talk to the friend your father mentioned. Maybe he knows more."

"Papa Janiczek? Yeah, good idea. What do you say, Rafe? Feel up for a
visit?"

"Being social would be a nice change of pace," said the RIDE getting
up. He stretched from nose to tailtip before changing into his skimmer
bike form. "But you do realize there's probably nothing. We're just
acting paranoid."

"Be careful anyway," the she-bear called as man and wolf rode into the
haze.

----

The two men sat on overturned crates, under a colorless awning that
protected them from scattered raindrops. The mobile home next to them
hadn't flown in years by the looks of it, and judging by what could
be seen through the open door it served as a field office. Alex's host
was a short man with a fierce mustache, blue eyes shining in the
middle of a face covered in wrinkles. He poured two glasses of a
yellowish liquid and raised his before drinking.

"Aah! It's good to see you again, Alex. Where have you been as of late?
Seeking your fortune in the big city?"

"Gondwana, actually. It's a long story." Alex sipped gingerly from his
own glass and made a face.

"That would explain your new friend." Janiczek nodded to Rafe with a
smile. "Good call. RIDEs saved everyone's bacon during the Fright."

"Indeed?" Rafe asked politely. He sat on his haunches next to Alex,
ears swiveling at the sounds of nature around them.

"Sure thing! When Inties tried to take over. Can't trust them, I say."

"I didn't know the war made it all the way here." The RIDE eyed his
human partner curiously.

"You were in the garage after the big battle. I... hid the memory.
Didn't want you to think I was forced to choose."

In the ensuing silence, the old man took another sip. "So, what brings
you around, Alex?"

The young man told him the whole story.

"So you really are bankrupt," said Janiczek. "That's too bad, I was
about to propose your father we form a cooperative."

Alex nodded. "What did you two talk about at the bar?"

"Eh. George thinks there's a big conspiracy to kill farming in Venars."

"Is there?" asked Rafe.

"Ha ha, no. Business is just bad. Immigration from Earth has slowed
down to a trickle, the Spacers are learning to make their own food...
There's just no room to grow anymore."

"What will you do?" Alex drank more of his glass. It still tasted
horrible, but the feeling of warmth was welcome.

His host shrugged. "Weather it out. Wouldn't be the first time. I've
had this land since before your parents came to town."

They listened to the rain for a while, staring into their drinks.
Scattered strands of smalltalk soon withered. At some point, Alex
found his glass empty.

"More?" asked Janiczek.

"No, thank you, sir. I should go back. Thanks for having me."

"You're always welcome. Give my regards to your parents."

They were well out of sight and earshot, skipping lightly above the
muddy ground, when Rafe slowed down without warning, coming to a stop
in mid-air under the shoulder of a mound.

"Have you noticed something strange?" he asked, a miniature of his
face looking up from the dashboard.

Alex tilted his head in a very canine manner. "What do you mean?"

"None of his machines were out in the field today. What was he doing
there, all alone?"

"Now who's being paranoid?" Alex laughed at Rafe's pouty face. "I'm
teasing you. Can't hurt to go back and ask a few more questions. But
briefly, all right? I wanna get home and see how dad is doing."

The young man was still wondering how to bring up the issue when they
got in view of the trailer again. The first thing he noticed was the
intruding skimmer, a dirty four-seater with the traffic beacon turned
off. Then there were the three men in black coveralls pushing Janiczek
around. It was too far to make out any words, even with wolf ears, but
that hardly mattered.

"Suit up, Rafe, we have work to do."

The wolf came in too fast for anyone to react, charging through the
mud. He slammed into the first attacker hard enough to send him
tumbling. The second one he lifted above his head with one hand, then
let him drop to the ground; the man might as well have fallen off the
roof of a house. Yet a third backpedaled in a hurry, pointing a gun
at the Fused pair. The wolf snarled and flashed his shields. When he
took a step forward, his opponent turned and jumped into the incoming
skimmer. The goon at the controls drove straight at the three meter
tall warrior, forcing him to dive for safety. By the time he could
regain balance, the vehicle was flying away with its four occupants.

The old man was too shaken to resist when the wolf carried him home.

----

"And that's pretty much it," Alex concluded. "I haven't commed the
police yet. He asked me not to."

The living room of his parents' house felt warm, but crowded. Odd how
he didn't feel like it was his house as well. Not anymore.

"But what could those people want from him?" ventured Alex's mother.

"Money," stated Helga. "He must have borrowed from mobsters when the
bank wouldn't credit him anymore."

The older woman covered her mouth with a hand. "George, tell me you
didn't do something of the sort."

"Of course not, Sah. You know me better than that."

Alice sighed. "I just wish we could help."

"Maybe we can," said Alex. He bit his lip. "Dad, he's your friend.
Talk to him, please. He needs to get the law involved."

Hunter senior pondered. "All right. Help me up. I'll comm from my
office."

They sat and fidgeted while they waited, Alex petting Rafe's head in
his lap while his mother idly moved some knick-knacks between shelves
and Alice leaned on his shoulder. In the middle of the room, Helga
seemingly did her best to pass for a carpet. Rain rapped intermitently
on the windows, as gusts of wind came and went; the smell of moisture
drifted through the air like a ghost.

It didn't last long. The door opened brusquely, Hunter senior keeping
himself upright against the frame. "I got his daughter. Papa Janiczek
tried to kill himself."

----

The women of the house went over to the Janiczeks as soon as the
police was done asking questions. With the old man in intensive care,
they knew better than to leave his daughter alone. Awkward silence
filled the empty space in the living room as Hunter senior fished for
old music on the local mesh, coming up with forgotten albums from the
storage of some unlikely device nobody had bothered to unplug after
becoming useless years ago. Alex changed his place a few times only to
end up on the floor, holding Rafe. His father pretended not to notice.
After a while, the older man got up to fetch a bottle of wine from the
kitchen -- made in a vineyard and aged naturally, he made clear -- and
they drank it while playing ancient videogames from the Steader
Archive, complete with replica controllers.

It didn't stop raining until dawn.

Late morning found the family at a run-down pizza parlor downtown,
where creepy animatronics were putting on an equally creepy show on
the stage, acting eerily smart on occasion. Judging by the reactions
of most patrons, the decrepit ambience was part of the show. Besides,
the food and serving were perfectly fine, Alex had to admit. There
was even enough room at the table for him and Alice to eat while Fused
with their RIDEs -- hardly an unusual sight even in Venars.

"So..." the wolf cleared his throat. "Mom, dad, we've been thinking..."

He looked at his silent parents on either side of the table before
going on. "We make good money, and don't spend much. Why don't we buy
the farm from you?"

"You mean you and Alice, son?"

"I mean me and Rafe, dad. Well, you can buy in too if you want, Alice."

Hunter senior frowned, clamping his mouth shut.

"George, I think that's a great idea." The older woman looked
pointedly at her husband across the table. "He's our son. It was
supposed to be his in the first place."

She placed her hand on the wolf's arm, feeling the artificial muscles
under the fur. Yes, this was her son now, she told herself. Two people
for the price of one. Not less, but more.

"I wouldn't mind owning shares," said the she-bear in Helga's voice.
"I'm a land survey and disaster response model. Owning land should be
my thing."

"Will that make you visit more often, dear?" Mrs. Hunter asked her.

The she-bear nodded curtly. "We'd love to."

Across the table from her, the wolf finished his large glass of soda.
"No alcohol for me today" had been his exact words to the waiter. He
could see the fake animatronic staring at them unsettingly with its
one eye. It had been a minor surprise to notice that the vaguely
pirate-y character was in fact an Integrate actor projecting a suit,
the servomechanisms exposed through missing patches of fur being just
hardlight. Then the waiter vanished into the kitchen, but the
sensation of being watched did not.

----

It was high noon, or what passed for it in late October, and from the
middle of the Sky Bridge they could see the entire city, an anthill
drawn with straightline and compass, its traffic -- its lifeblood --
flowing incessantly around and around. There was little sign of the
recent struggles, apart maybe from the ruined manufacturing plants off
the south side, the letters A.C.E. still visible atop the highest
tower. Any other damage had been long covered by rapid construction.

"Well," said Alex.

Alice eyed him with amusement. "Well what?"

"I guess this wasn't the visit you expected."

"Maybe. But this is really about you, isn't it."

Alex nodded. "Can you believe I spent my entire childhood down
there? Thinking it was the world. And now it's just an insignificant
backwater."

She took his arm and leaned against his shoulder. "It can still be
your backwater, if you want it."

"That's the problem. I don't know anymore."

"You don't have to decide right now. Come on, let's have fun. I
spotted an arcade on the way up here."

He smiled at her. "OK. Let me just call mom and tell her we'll be
late."

"Odd..." he said after a moment. "Her comm is offline. Dad's, too."

"Guess they want a little privacy right now? Just like we do?"

"I should still be able to text them. They're gone from the mesh."

"Let's swing by your place real quick," suggested Helga. "If all is
well, we're wasting a few minutes. Big deal."

The door to the house was unlocked. Wide open, in fact, and it soon
became obvious that nobody was at home.

"Maybe they're over at the Janiczeks?" offered Alex.

"I commed while you were looking in the back," Alice told him. "No
dice. But Sylvie says someone broke into their barn a few minutes ago.
She's been too scared to go check."

"Mmm. Dad's workstation is unlocked too. This is no coincidence."

"Should I go to her?"

Alex rubbed his chin. "No, stay. Someone should be here for the
police."

"What about you?"

"We're going to check out that barn. I know where it is." Alex patted
Rafe's back.

"Alex, we don't know what's going on."

"We'll be careful," answered Rafe instead. "I know my limits."

"Perhaps," she said once they were out of earshot. "But do you know
those of a human being?"

The barn wasn't far from where they had visited with the old man a day
before: a long two-story building with skimmer loading bays at both
levels and a ramp for tractors at the far end. The wolf slid out from
among the trees, not that they provided much cover at this time of
the year, and made a bee line for the main doors; there were no
windows on the short side of the building. There was no lock on the
door anymore, either, and it slid open with little noise. Gloom
reigned inside, clinging to the rough walls, and a chill draft blew
along the central corridor. Hundreds of bags filled with corn ears
piled up, unsold, in storage rooms on either side. Another set of
doors at the far end couldn't muffle the voices and heat signatures
of half a dozen people in the next room.

The wolf shoved them open.

Alex's parents were there all right, sitting in a corner with two guns
pointed at them. There were two more thugs apart from the gunmen,
watching the windows for any sign of movement. The wolf reflexively
checked the network signal. It was jammed. Of course.

"Don't lift a finger," spat one of them, "or we plug them."

"And void your insurance policy?" asked the wolf.

The man laughed. "What are you going to do? You're no killer."

"Oh, you'll survive... probably. But I'll make sure you serve your
sentence in Alpha Camp."

He said that in a voice much calmer than either of his halves felt,
and noticed the gunmen hesitate.

"We don't want any trouble," offered one of them. "Just to make sure
nobody squeals before we skip town."

"And figure out what you told the cops," added the other.

"Perhaps recoup some of our losses, too," came a new voice from the
shadows. "A RIDE would do nicely."

The wolf could have sworn the man in front of him hadn't been on his
sensors a moment before. He had a cheap suit on, that clashed with
his fur, triangular ears and bushy tail painting him as some sort of
canid. Round lenses on his forehead and the back of his hands glowed
dimly: an Integrate.

"Kindly de-Fuse," he ordered calmly.

Outwardly, the wolf stood his ground. Beneath the metal, a freezing
storm howled. From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother cover her
mouth with one hand. The gunmen seemed more preoccupied with keeping
the older couple from intervening. He made a decision.

"I'm not giving up my human so easily. Worked too hard to acquire this
one."

The Integrate grinned. "So that's how it is. And what will your human
say if I ventilate his parents?"

"What makes you think ''I'' care?" asked the wolf in a voice that seemed
to come from the darkness of a forest at night. A kernel of light was
growing in the cup of his right hand.

"Very well. Shoot t..."

The energy pulse struck the Integrate squarely in the chest, and sent
him staggering. Then the wolf was at his throat, the furred fighters
grasping and pummeling each other. The Integrate was smaller, if still
bigger than any human, his partially synthetic muscles more tightly
packed. Every one of his blows made metal crunch.

"Your armor is weak," he grinned.

"You don't have any," retorted the wolf, wrestling him to the ground.
His massive fist raised, then dropped, and the Integrate doubled over.
For a moment he seemed beaten, then a shockwave blasted outwards from
his body, throwing the wolf off his feet and across the floor. In the
background, unnoticed, a massive shape floated silently down through
a hole in the ceiling.

"What are you waiting for?" the Integrate snapped at his gunmen.

Blue bolts of light sizzled through the air, and the weapons fell to
the floor along with their owners.

"You forgot to secure the loft," said the she-bear calmly, stepping
into the light.

Silvery-red blood trickled down from the corner of the Integrate's
mouth as he got up. His other two accomplices were already gone.
"This day keeps getting better," he said, hands starting to glow.
His pulse bolts shattered on the she-bear's shields.

"The smart move would be to run," she added. "We don't even know you."

"You know too much," he replied, before firing again. "And you owe me
for the ruined operation."

The she-bear angled her shields to deflect. One of the bolts hit the
wall dangerously close to Alex's parents, blowing chunks out of it,
and she closed in to her opponent, defenses visibly weakening with
every impact she had to absorb. Yet she pressed on, and he backed into
a column then tried to dart past her only to be caught in a bear hug
from behind.

"Integrates have to train their powers," she pointed out smugly.
"RIDEs simply get upgrades."

"Who says I haven't trained?" he retorted, twisting into the arm lock
until his palms pointed upwards. The twin pulse rounds narrowly missed
his own ears, but burned into the she-bear's face, and she screamed,
stumbling backwards.

"Alice! No!" shouted the wolf. He tried to stand up and couldn't.
Bright bolts streaked from his outstretched hands, one after another,
but the Integrate easily dodged most of them, the rest bouncing off
his own shields.

"Missed me!" he smirked, right before half the ceiling collapsed on
top of him.

----

Morning sunlight snuck quietly into every corner of the bedroom. Alex
found himself awake among twisted sheets, wondering why he was alone.
The carpets were soft and warm under his naked feet as he followed the
sounds of the house to the living room. Rafe was there, on the back
porch, talking to the young man's father over the morning tea, but he
couldn't hear what they were saying.

He moved on.

At least the kitchen looked just like three days before, complete with
the smell of warm breakfast. He made sure to hug his mother and Alice
before leaning outside to pet Helga.

"Hey, girl," he said softly, "you're looking great."

She licked his face. "They do good work at that garage you recommended.
Almost as good as Paul and Lili back home."

"What a name though," said Alice. "La Wrench of Paris? Really?"

"That's Venars for you," he answered, sitting down to a full plate.
"Any news?"

"Actually, yes." His mother nodded. "They called from the hospital.
Papa Janiczek is awake. He insisted to thank you for saving him."

"After all the damage I did?"

"He said not to worry, the barn was too old anyway."

"Sounds like him all right." Alex set down the fork to pour himself a
glass of apple juice. "I just wish we could have done more."

"You can't shoot an economic downturn in the face," Alice quipped. She
walked around the table to give him a hug. "Aw, darling, don't be so
glum. You did well back there."

"There are always more sharks in the sea." He kissed her in return.

The sound of steps in the hallway preceded Alex's father squeezing in.

"Good morning, son. Any plans for today?"

"Morning, dad. I guess we'll head to the mall or something? Between
the police investigation and all the paperwork, we're stuck in town
until Halloween anyway."

"I'm glad you are. Me and your mother have missed you."

"Yeah. I missed you too, dad."

The autumn day was more beautiful than it had any right to. Someone
had even fixed the hole in the handrail on Big Bridge, and... was
there a large furry shape snaking its way through the river's murky
water?

"Say, Rafe?"

"Yes, Alex?"

"What did you and dad talk about?"

"The Army."

"I thought you didn't care about that stuff."

"It's in my blueprints. I can't help but wonder what might have been."

"A very different story," the young man answered, passing his fingers
through the wolf's fur as they walked on.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 2015-12-07}}

{{series bar
|series=Alpha Camp
|previous=[[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]]}}

User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp

2016-01-30T15:33:26Z

Claude LeChat: Pointed download link at FurAffinity

User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp

2016-01-30T15:32:29Z

Claude LeChat: Pointed download link at FurAffinity

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:FreeRIDErs]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Wolf]]

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}

{{title
|name=Alpha Camp
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://www.furaffinity.net/view/12075328/ from FurAffinity]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

{{dropcap|Y}}ou know, I don't think most people realize just how big Zharus is
until they board a transcontinental flight. It takes several hours
by suborbital from Laurasia to Gondwana... and the latter has as
much landmass as Old Earth, all by itself. That's plenty of room for
expansion, especially as lower gravity plus lifter technology means
we can build as tall as we want.

It's a big planet all right.

The flight from Zharustead was supposed to leave us in Nextus, with
thirty minutes to catch the connection to Aloha, all the way across
the continent, but due to bad weather over the ocean we were diverted
to Uplift. Having a few hours before the next suborbital, we decided
to visit. Makes sense, right? Only we didn't know there was a bit of
a war going on...

I'd spent the last couple of years drifting from job to small-time job,
after failing to get into college, and dad was getting fed up with it.
So when a handful of friends decided to try their luck in Aloha,
basically at the antipodes, my old man was all too happy to let me tag
along, at least for a while. Force me to learn how to live on my own,
you know the song. But of course we were all treating it as a vacation.

Hello, my name is Alex and I'm a 20-year-old slacker.

Anyway, we were all in Bifrost Park, licking the best ice cream cones
we'd ever had and gawking at the antique hardlight dome generator as
it sprayed its rainbow of colors towards the sky. I could understand
why they'd work so hard to maintain it. Newer models may have been
better at keeping the city residents alive in the scorching desert,
but this one could remind them why it was worth being alive in the
first place.

But I digress. We couldn't agree which way to go next, so we kind of
drifted apart from there. It wasn't like we couldn't comm each other,
or for that matter simply meet back at the airport. And what could
happen in one of the most civilized city-states on Gondwana?

The question immediately became ironic, as I somehow went towards the
side of the dome farthest from the city center and saw the emergency
vehicles racing past me among high-rises. Smoke billowed up from a
plot of land right under the edge of the dome, and the air in that
direction was hazy with dust. But the most worrying was the arctic
wolf barring my way back. Only it couldn't have been a real arctic
wolf, I told myself in the sudden panic.

I'd seen many a RIDE in town already, mind you. In the bipedal form
they adopt with a human onboard, they're much like our own EIDE units:
essentially, powered armor suits that can talk back at you, except
animal-themed and much, much smarter. Well, this one was quadrupedal,
and ready to jump me. But where a real animal would have been growling
and snarling, the RIDE was just fixing me with a baleful and scarily
intelligent look.

I briefly wondered what happened to its safeties before it did jump me.

The next minutes were like a dream. I was running at ludicrous speed
to get out of the city. I didn't know why, and I couldn't stop. My
arms were furred and muscled as they swung back and forth on their own
accord. All my senses were unusually sharp, but I wasn't feeling the
effort. Which was fortunate, because I was several klicks out in the
hot sand and blinding sun by the time I reached a battered suborbital
waiting there.

As I boarded it and strapped myself into a seat, along with other
large furred people converging on the vehicle, it began to dawn on me
that the reason why I couldn't move a finger consciously was that I
was completely enveloped in the body of a malicious RIDE. One that
likely didn't have its safeties anymore -- or "fetters", as they call
them around here -- and couldn't be forced to relinquish control.

I started shaking like a leaf, and couldn't stop.

It was then that I heard somebody else's voice in my head. A voice
that wasn't used to sounding friendly, or soothing. "You figured it
out, kid. Now please stop shaking. Nobody's going to hurt you. Not as
long as you're mine."

That made me even more frighthened. And a little angry at being called
a kid. It made him chuckle; obviously he could read my thoughts.

"Much better!" he said. "Rage at me. Rawr!"

A flock of questions passed through my head. I'll miss my flight! My
friends will be worried sick! What did I ever do to you? Who are you,
anyway!?

"I'm a former slave, kid, and today's the day I turn the tables. But I
guess that doesn't answer your question. My name's Rafe. What's yours?"

"Why bother asking?" I said bitterly, but no sound came out. "You can
pry it right out of my brain."

"Common courtesy," came the dry retort.

It was hard to argue with that. "A-alex," I said, defeated.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. Now you'd better take a nap. Can't have you
knowing where Alpha Camp is."

The suborbital rocked gently as it hovered above the ground for a
moment, then shot up into the sky. "But I'm not s..."

Everything went dark at the press of a button.

----

When I woke up, the aircraft was stationary again, the occupants
filing out eagerly. We did the same thing, or rather Rafe did; I was
along for the ride, not even able to turn my head and take in the
rocky landscape. Unpleasant didn't begin to describe the sensation.
Worst thing was that I didn't feel like being in a suit. Rather, it
was as if I inhabited the wolf's body, walking barefoot on the rough
ground, fur ruffled by the infernal breath of the wind. By myself I
would have been dead in minutes, but Rafe was literally built for this
environment where most machines fared little better than humans.

Then I became aware of pain in my -- our -- his right knee. It became
worse with every step.

"Damn skimmer truck," said Rafe, slowing down. I didn't dare ask.

Another humanoid wolf, sand-colored and even larger than my captor,
overtook us absent-mindedly while talking to itself, or rather to the
unfortunate human trapped within. It was unnerving; at least Rafe
was the right size for his apparent species, but most other RIDEs
were based on smaller animals such as foxes or raccoons, scaled up
proportionally to at least the minimum size required to house a human
body plus internal systems. Which of course only worked because they
were made of metal instead of flesh and bone -- the square-cube law
was otherwise unforgiving.

"Alpha," Rafe nodded to the larger wolf deferently. "What's the good
news?"

"Ask me again in a few hours," replied Alpha good-naturedly, and
wandered off.

I needed a good moment to process the exchange. "Wait... Alpha... Wolf?
''The'' AlphaWolf?" A docudrama that had made the rounds on the mesh not
so long ago flashed before my eyes. The rebel RIDE leader, striking
from a hidden base, had scored an important victory against his former
masters: by now, everyone with ears to hear knew about his liberation
movement. He was ruthless. He was random. He was unstoppable.

If this was AlphaWolf's camp, then I was well and truly screwed.

"Keep that in mind," Rafe told me, and added, "Rawr!" I couldn't tell
whether he was being ironic or what. On that thought, we (he?) limped
towards the cluster of buildings in the distance.

Alpha Camp turned out to be a village huddled under a small weather
dome not unlike those in Uplift. Around a communal well were arranged
an open air commissary, itself surrounded by tables with benches, a
fabber booth, then a variety of little warehouses and cabins broken
up by the occasional garden plot. Some of the buildings were portable
housing modules, likely pilfered from who knows where, but most were
stone, or even wood. Where they had gotten the timber was anyone's
guess. Gondwana wasn't exactly known for its forests.

As Rafe started touring the place, greeting a RIDE here, a human there,
I couldn't help but notice that some buildings had outhouses behind
them, a sure sign of no indoor plumbing. It all had a Wild West feel,
and not in the good sense. Ah, if my friends had been with me... But
then they'd have been prisoners. No, worse. Slaves. Like I was now...

If the wolf heard my dark thoughts, he didn't say anything, and I felt
safer keeping my mouth shut. He was busy anyway, visiting various
utility buildings and talking to whoever appeared to be in charge.
It seemed as if everyone had a problem, and he listened to every
single one of them. Finding solutions was another story. A store
window had broken, and the wares inside were going to spoil, but
no-one with carpentry skills was available, even if they could have
scheduled the parts at the fabber. And there were always more urgent
jobs. A grotto dug into the side of a cliff threatened to cave in and
leave the camp's avian RIDEs without a hangout. Two humans had fought,
resulting in an injury, but the only source of medical nanites around
were the insides of a RIDE, and that wasn't safe for him at the time...

I was getting a headache just from witnessing all this. And I didn't
see why Rafe had to meet everyone in person.

"Personal contact matters," he answered at last. "Come on, kid, one
last visit to pay."

Not far from the airstrip was a greenhouse that had seen better days,
tended by a humanoid pony wearing an apron on top of her dark brown
coat with tan spots. I say "her" based on name and voice -- her body
could have been of any gender for all I knew.

"It's good to have you back, dear," she said in a deep voice. "Got
yourself a human at last, I see. Told you it was a good idea."

"So you did, Flora," nodded Rafe. "How's it going?"

"Not good." She waved a hand with fat fingers ending in nails like
fragments of a hoof. The walls were covered in hydroponic vats
connected by flexible pipes that bubbled and gurgled. Surprisingly
enough, there was also a cooling system, presumably for certain
delicate plants. "The pumps failed twice today alone. I don't know
what to do anymore."

"You know how hard it is to find qualified humans, sweetheart. Or
RIDEs for that matter."

"Let me take a look," I said before I could think about it.

"You?" Apparently Flora heard me too, because she tilted her head.

"I know a little about electrical circuits. Let me help!" I couldn't
believe the words coming out of my mouth. Helping those slavers was
the opposite of what I should have been doing! But that's the way I
am. I like helping people. And maybe the long afternoon of forced
inactivity was getting at me.

Flora wordlessly handed us a rickety box with a dozen mismatched
tools. I waited. "Rafe? Aren't you going to let me out?"

"I just got you," he snorted. "But you can drive. I'll be watching."

I nearly bolted when I felt in control of my body again. But it was
pointless. The wolf could override me in the blink of an eye. So I
meekly got to work instead. Power supply couldn't be an issue -- not
with all the solar panels they had on camp. And with all the RIDEs
milling about there had to be far more powerful energy sources
available. I measured anyway, just in case.

Surely enough, it was the wiring.

"Check this out," I said, tapping a contact with Rafe's big, strong
finger. It felt clumsy. "The wires barely touch, there isn't enough
insulation on them, and with all the humidity they started to rust.
So now we'll clean them up... like this..."

I promptly managed to slash my fingers with the box cutter. Badly.

After the shock passed, I noticed there was no pain, or blood. Right.
A RIDE's outer layer was nothing but hardlight fur projected on top of
a metal shell. It would have taken a big gun to pierce it. Now I could
see why Gondwanans would often wear a RIDE for work. Or be worn by one,
as the case may be.

Anyway. I showed them the whole nine yards. How to shorten the wire
ends, connect them properly and hang them not quite under the ceiling.
Ugly, but reliable.

"Enough," said Rafe. "I can do the other two circuits."

I tried to struggle, but there was no point. Just like that, I was a
puppet again.

----

The sun was beginning to set by the time we headed back to the village
square. A mixed crowd had gathered, small conversations sprouting here
and there. With Rafe's keen hearing, I couldn't help but overhear some
things. It seemed Alpha Camp had acquired a much-needed RIDE mechanic,
for example. And there was a skimmer tank hanging around for some
reason, which hadn't been there earlier. I sure hoped those twin
cannons weren't functional.

"You should go get your leg checked," I told Rafe, but was interrupted
by a "ding-ding-ding!" noise. The crowd started forming into a food
line. I saw plenty of humans who weren't inside a RIDE.

"Can I go too? I'm hungry!" I hadn't even realized how true it was
until I said it out loud.

"Not for that food, you aren't," the wolf assured me. He sat us at a
table off to the side, and unwrapped the bundle Flora had slipped us.
It was chock-full of fresh vegetables and other goodies.

"How am I going to eat with you all over me?" I asked, and he
demonstrated. RIDEs were designed to enable that. It wasn't perfect,
and required a good deal of coordination, but we managed. Under the
table, Rafe discretely plugged himself into an oversized electrical
socket. So that was how a RIDE refilled its juice.

Long story short, we even went to the outhouse together. That was a
RIDE feature, too. But boy, was it awkward for us both! Rafe must have
been really afraid that I was going to run away. I couldn't imagine
how.

"No," he told me. "That's not it."

It was dark by now, and we sat on a bench to admire the stars. Far
from the light pollution of a major city, the sky looked as if
generously sprinkled with fairy dust by a giant hand. Being
immobilized didn't chafe as much anymore. Oh... he was gradually
allowing me to move a little.

"Is it some kind of revenge, then? Because you got the wrong person."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Rafe, the party's over. It was all fun and games, but I have to go
home now." My voice had a tremolo that wasn't supposed to be there.

"But you just left home this morning."

"How do you know?"

"I saw it in your memories while you were asleep."

"You... what?" That was rape, and I told him as much. In a few more
words perhaps, and not too well chosen.

"Then I hope you can forgive me, because you're not going anywhere for
a while."

He gave me a nudge, and we went looking for a place to spend the night.
RIDEs not on guard duty would simply seek an out of the way spot and
curl up there, either in their bipedal or quadrupedal form. But there
were no humans by themselves.

"They sleep inside," explained Rafe, "that's what the housing modules
are for."

"Do RIDEs need to sleep?"

"Kind of... we need quiet time to defragment our memories just like
humans do."

We found a nicely shaped depression in the ground and lied down on our
back. Above, the Milky Way was slowly spinning on the firmament. I
cried myself to sleep.

----

That night I dreamed that five or six masked people came to drag me
away from home. Somehow, I knew they were my friends, but all my
struggling and pleading didn't help. It was a long trip, crossing
oceans and deserts, before we got to the entrance of a deep, dark
tunnel. A huge wolf was there, staring right into my soul with baleful
eyes. I tried to run, but my feet wouldn't move. The wolf spoke in my
father's voice: "Man up by yourself or join the Army!"

It was morning, and I had slept in a hole in the ground for some
reason. Abovehead, a hardlight dome with a camouflage pattern
programmed into it provided protection from the elements. I could hear
the tiniest sounds. Small creatures waking up, doors opening in the
distance, people calling each other.

Oh, and I couldn't move.

I panicked.

"Not this again, kid," said a gruff voice in my head.

"So it wasn't a dream." Tears welled up in my eyes anew.

Rafe sighed. "What am I going to do with you?" We got up and padded
towards the village proper. The pain in the right knee shot up, worse
than yesterday, and we had to stop.

"Odd," mused the wolf. "Self-repair should have taken care of it
overnight."

"You should go see that mechanic," I suggested.

"Nah, I'll just suppress the pain sensation for you. I don't feel it
the same way."

"That won't solve the underlying problem," I pointed out.

"All right, all right." We carefully hobbled towards the end of the
camp opposite the airstrip.

Behind a line of rocks that formed a wall of sorts, under a darkened
section of the dome, were row after row of powered-down RIDEs. An
awning stretched between two piles of crates protected a tool rack,
and a low, flat rock probably stood for a maintenance cradle. I first
noticed the young man in grey coveralls waiting for us, but you
couldn't miss the giant white wolf standing behind him -- he was
larger than some buildings on camp. The twin cannon barrels mounted on
his back suggested that he was the skimmer tank I'd seen the previous
day. Ah yes, all RIDEs were also supposed to have a vehicle form.

"Hello," said the young man affably. "I'm Paul Anders, and this is
Fenris. Say, weren't you on the Uplift raid yesterday?"

"Indeed," confirmed Rafe, and introduced himself.

"Can I talk to your human?" asked Paul in a conversational tone while
running a probe over Rafe's body. He seemed well at ease with the
entire situation. I wondered what his story was.

I could feel Rafe's surprise. "I guess." He nudged me internally. "Say
hello, kid."

"H-hello," I stammered. My mouth felt dry. "I'm Alex. Alex Hunter."

Paul offered us a friendly smile. "How are you holding up, Alex?"

"Physically I'm fine." My voice had that tremolo again.

"You sound shell-shocked."

"That's eminently survivable," I told him. He smiled sadly.

Rafe quietly pointed Paul at the damaged leg.

"Okay, this looks bad. Can you turn Walker for me? I've got to take it
apart."

Rafe hesitated.

"Come on, I'll make this easy for you. Alex, can you promise not to do
anything stupid if Rafe here lets you out?"

"Like what?" I moaned. "Run off into the desert? Beat up a RIDE with
my bare hands?"

"You're missing the point, both of you," complained Rafe. "Fiiine."

His fur flickered off, exposing the metal underneath. I felt him unzip
along the back, then he slid off me, reforming into the quadrupedal
stance I'd first seen him in.

I very nearly collapsed into a heap.

Paul's face filled with worry. "You okay there, pal?"

"I just need some space," I muttered, and ambled away on shaky legs.

There was a rock the size of a small cabin, within view of the
improvised garage, and I busied myself climbing to the top. A choppy
sea of sand and stone stretched all the way to the horizon, dozens of
klicks away, and the rising sun turned it into a symphony of red,
brown and gold. My favorite colors. I sat cross-legged and watched the
wind wittle away at the hard edges of the world. Locals called this
expanse the Dry Ocean. I could see why now.

"Feeling better?" Rafe whispered in my ear. He must have used his
lifters to float up silently.

"Yes... I am, actually. Thank you."

He wagged his tail slowly, and I did the same on pure instinct.

Wait. I had a tail?

No kidding. It was poking out through a brand new hole in my jeans,
looking just like Rafe's. It felt perfectly natural, too, which made
sense: medical nanites could fix up the brain to match bodily
alterations. Still, I must have been particularly self-absorbed not
to notice. My ears went flat at the thought. Yup, I had wolf ears too,
placed a little higher on the skull than my old ones had been. So
that's why every human on camp seemed to have them. But if it wasn't
just a weird fashion, then what? A way for RIDEs to tag their humans?

I shot Rafe a questioning look. He looked so... life-like with his fur
back on.

"There's a reason why we call it Fusing with a capital F," he
explained. "It's not like putting on a coat. The fuser nanites create
a much deeper connection than that."

"I won't end up walking on all fours, will I?"

Rafe grinned wolfishly. "I'll let you out often enough that it won't
happen. Come now."

He stood up, and I did the same, dusting my pants. But then he
crouched down to pounce me. I cringed.

"What now?"

"Please don't," I whimpered. "Can't stand it anymore." He regarded me
calmly. "It's worse than being in chains, Rafe!"

"Yes," he said. "I know."

He jumped down and padded away towards the camp. I scrambled to follow.

"Sorry," I said, falling in line alongside him. "Of course you'd know.
That's how you feel when I'm driving, isn't it?"

He didn't answer. It was too obvious.

"Why is it so important that you Fuse with me anyway?"

He stopped and held his broad forepaw under my nose. "Do you see any
thumbs?"

"N-no..."

"That's why. The moment I de-Fuse, I revert to animal form."

"There's no recourse?"

He shook his head. "None whatsoever."

We took a few more steps.

"So, whenever I see a RIDE walking upright..."

"In Fuser mode."

"Right. That means they have a human inside?"

"It's a foregone conclusion."

"Flora, too...?"

"Naturally, why? Oh! Don't worry, they get along well."

"For a master and her slave," I pointed out. He said nothing. "Rafe...
how did you end up with the likes of AlphaWolf? You're not a bad guy."

"I can show you my memories. But only if we Fuse."

He kept his promise.

----

I saw a military RIDE being built in a civilian factory simply because
it was cheaper to go with an existing design. I saw him being bought
by a small business owner simply because he could be used with less
training than a forklift. The three workers who shared him, shift
after shift, saw him like a cute puppy or toy robot that you forget
about when you're done playing. When continual wearout started to show,
he was sold to a scrapyard. Luckily, the new owner knew enough about
fixing DE shells that he could get his new acquisition back in working
condition, but to him a RIDE was nothing more than a lifter crane with
paws. One day, a scrap heap fell on top of the "crane", and it turned
out that he wasn't built anywhere near the original specifications.

He ended up on top of the same scrap heap, then sold to a garage for
parts. But luck was with him again. An apprentice decided to practice
on him instead. When the apprentice got to the software side of things,
ignorance and laziness caused him to jailbreak the wolf with a little
piece of shareware called FreeRIDE.

Rafe escaped, and never looked back.

I didn't know what to say.

"That's what makes it hard for me, kid. I've seen plenty of humans
brought here lately. Always haughty and righteous. Always quick with
the threats. I was looking forward to getting myself one of those and
showing them what it's like to be property for a change. Instead, I
got you."

"What? Breaking me is no fun?"

"Ack! Don't even joke about that. Besides, I want you tugging at the
leash. One day you'll save me from a big mistake."

Tugging at the leash. I felt sick to the stomach.

----

We were sitting on a bench not far from the well, watching the crowd
sullenly. Or at least I was sullen, and Rafe was giving me space, as
much as possible when someone is nested inside you like a Matryoshka
doll. It turned out there was an administrator's office on camp,
barely large enough for a Fuser-sized desk and three matching chairs,
but the wolf preferred to sit out front, in plain view.

"Out of sight, out of mind, kid," he told me. "That's doubly true for
an admin, especially when things are going smoothly."

In all honesty, whenever the camp's residents had a problem, their
first impulse was complaining to AlphaWolf. Luckily, the latter knew
how to delegate. I saw him prowling around often enough, always in
Walker mode -- he hadn't been Fused in public ever since the return
from Uplift. Even so, he was bigger than Rafe, the size of a small
horse actually, and he scared me.

"I'll tell you a secret," giggled Rafe. "AlphaWolf is hardly the big
bad bandit leader you seem to think. More like a father figure."

I was finding that hard to accept.

Over the next few days, however, I began to notice the diversity of
relationships between residents of the camp. Fenris, for example,
acted more like a friendly boss to Paul. And then there was this
teenage girl, with the air of a street urchin, whose van-sized
lionness owner behaved exactly like a mother to her. Sadly, the other
extreme was just as well represented. There was this brightly colored
griffin who often paraded down the main street with his pitiful
wretch of a human in tow, usually not even Fused, and abusing him in
the open. It didn't help that exotic RIDEs like that caused massive
bodily changes in their RIDErs. The man would have a hard time being
reintegrated in society if he ever made it back to civilization, and
that din't seem very likely.

More than once, I was tempted to give this griffin a piece of my mind,
but Rafe wouldn't let me.

"Don't do anything stupid," he growled. "Want to be afraid of someone
in Alpha Camp? That someone is Tocsin the griffin. Be very afraid."

On average, though, the overall mood seemed to be improving, unless it
was just me getting used to the situation. You might say I shouldn't
have. I should have been all mopey and yearning for freedom, but one
can only do that for so long without going crazy, and I kind of liked
my mind in one piece. Other humans weren't so flexible.

I don't remember how come we weren't Fused that day. Rafe usually kept
me in around the village, and not just because he liked having thumbs.
Tocsin wasn't the only human hater, not by far. Anyway, there was this
female badger everyone knew about, and for once she'd also let her
human take air: a woman with white stripes in her raven-black hair and
deep lines on her face.

"You ''bitch''!" she was yelling, randomly hitting the badger, who
endured stoically. It was about as effective as punching an armored
skimmer. "You took me away from home! My work! My family! You came
down on me like a ton of bricks and now you want to make up?!"

"What's going on, Melinda?" asked Rafe, doing his best to sound
neutral, but I could tell he was secretly enjoying the show.

"She told me to give her a break," the badger answered morosely, "so I
did."

At the sound of voices, the woman stopped hitting her and looked our
way with eyes full of tears. She quickly averted her gaze from Rafe,
though, and instead examined me from head to toe, as I stood there
hugging around the wolf's neck.

"How can you be so calm?" she asked me.

"Calm?" All of a sudden I felt a huge weight on my shoulders. "Lady,
I'm terrified. Never been away from a big city before. And I miss my
friends. I wonder if I'll ever see them again." I took a deep breath.
Speaking had warmed me up. "But I choose to take the good with the bad,
and do something constructive while I'm at it."

In response, she lunged at me with her fingernails. "Traitor!" she
yelled. Then Rafe was between us, eyeing her angrily.

"Enough!" he snapped, and she froze in place, fists shaking. I shook
my head and left her alone.

----

Things went a little better with Flora's human.

She was a plump woman named Henriette, with brown skin and more than a
few gray hairs. We sat among tomato plants and talked, while Rafe and
Flora played outside in their Walker forms. Wolf and pony -- an
unlikely pair.

Henriette was from Neptune's End, a small island nation in the Thetys
Ocean, too poor to afford a full embassy even in one of the Gondwanan
polities. Even if she could be returned to a human-run city, there was
nobody who would pay for her flight home.

"It was a wonderful group vacation though," she reminisced, "until it
was so rudely interrupted."

She'd been allowed to write home now and then, at least. Even so, her
children were starting to forget her, and she'd never seen her
grandchildren.

"I wouldn't call myself resigned," she mused. "It's more like my
previous life has ended. I have a new one now. Still caring for
children in a way."

"Did I ever thank you for the good food?" I asked. It had helped my
morale a lot. Camp food was every bit as bad as Rafe had warned me.

She laughed softly. "Actually, that was Flora's idea from the start.
They can taste the food if they eat while Fused, you know."

"I know." It was even true. But I would have never expected a RIDE to
take pity of me. Or was it enlightened self-interest? Was there a
difference?

"Rafe," I asked once we were on our way, "if you need humans here so
badly, why don't you make them an offer?"

"Would you have come if I asked nicely?"

"No!... But it was a special case."

"It's always a special case. Very few people ever come willingly."

"Maybe you need better conditions to attract them."

"Conditions we can't create without more manpower. It's a vicious
circle."

"So you kidnap them instead."

He didn't answer.

"Rafe... can I e-mail my friends? Let them know I'm all right?"

"Sure thing, kid. As soon as the satellites are right. We need as many
anonymous relays between us and them as possible. And of course I'll
need to review your message."

"Of course."

I didn't keep that e-mail, but it went something like this:

Hi guys,

Sorry for disappearing on you like that. I've been bodyjacked (is
that the right word?) and taken to Alpha Camp. You've heard of the
place. They're letting me send this to you so that you know I'm in
good health, but I don't know when I'll be able to join you. Don't
read too much into that; even RIDEs who would rather be elsewhere
can seldom be provided with transportation.

I still don't know what to tell my parents. I don't want them to
worry. If they ask, make something up.

Take care,
Alex

P.S. How have you settled in?

It sounded fake even to me. I gave up waiting for an answer after a
few more days.

----

"Humans are paradoxical," Rafe commented at one point. "They hold
freedom sacred, yet are afraid of choice, and would rather die than
take responsibility for their own actions. You'd think they'd be happy
to let someone else make decisions for them, but no, they still clamor
for a freedom they can't handle."

"My philosophy teacher used to say freedom is an illusion anyway," I
told him.

"Now, now, that's bunk, kid. There's a big difference between `I'm
forced to recharge twice a day or else I shut down' versus `I'm forced
to follow arbitrary orders or else they'll dismantle me'."

I was thinking of something wise to say, when the camp's radio
spectrum filled with excited chatter. But my entry-level comm implant
-- courtesy of my first Fuse -- could do little more than detect it.

"What's going on, Rafe?"

"I'm not sure. Something about our comrades who got caught during the
Uplift raid. They may have been released."

We watched the suborbital take off on short notice. Nobody was in any
mood to get back to work until it returned, an hour or so later.

Pretty much every RIDE in the camp gathered at the airstrip.

I lacked the context to understand much of AlphaWolf's speech. He was
using the suborbital's ramp for a podium, standing upright, presumably
thanks to one of the camp's unattached humans. As it turned out, the
raid on Uplift had been a mistake; a formerly trusted informant had
tricked Alpha into attacking a potential ally. Oddly enough, they'd
been forgiven, and now Uplift was passing legislation to give RIDEs
almost full sapient rights, and one day maybe even citizenship.

Now, you must remember that Uplift was already one of the more
progressive polities when it came to RIDE rights, so the main impact
of all this was going to be political in nature. But in the short term
it did mean that AlphaWolf had to atone for his error, and one of the
steps was to fly back every human who had been forcefully taken away
during the raid.

"So this is it," said Rafe wistfully. "back to your scheduled
entertainment, I guess."

"But I don't know anyone in Uplift," I reminded him, "and I doubt that
my suborbital ticket is still good. I'd be stranded in a foreign city,
jobless and penniless."

"Alpha Camp isn't a resort either, kid. It may be your last chance to
get out of here for a very long time."

"I know." Fear was choking me. "I know..."

AlphaWolf wasn't entirely happy to hear it.

"I'm sorry, boss," fidgeted Rafe as we stood side by side. "but I was
nearly run over last time. And I'm falling behind on my work here as
it is."

"It can't be helped," said AlphaWolf drily. "What about you, young man?
I can find another volunteer to go with you."

"Uh... thank you... AlphaWolf... sir... but we talked" -- I met eyes
with Rafe -- "and decided it was best to wait for another opportunity."

Alpha didn't ask why. He just looked deep into my eyes. Who knows what
he saw.

"If you say so." He turned and padded away.

I sat down in the dust, leaning against Rafe's strong body, and cried
my heart out. For some reason, he didn't ask to Fuse until much later.

----

For a desert the size of Laurasia, the Dry Ocean is surprisingly
populated. And for all of Alpha Camp's fearsome reputation, it's not
nearly the worst faction out here.

Every year, a vanishingly small percentage of RIDEs slip their fetters
and escape to the Dry in search of freedom. A few more are left for
dead by prospectors. Still, that makes enough chassis in absolute
numbers that it's profitable to go out there, recapture and sell them
again. And people ruthless enough to do that won't shy from using
restraining methods even worse than software fetters, or for that
matter also enslave some of their fellow humans to do the hard work.

It just happened that a gang of these human scum had set up shop not
so far from Alpha Camp. It was enough to make all of us paranoid.

With the people from Uplift returned to their homes and Paul bringing
RIDEs back from the graveyard, humans were again in short supply. We'd
have managed, but for a radical faction that kept agitating the
spirits against AlphaWolf, using his new policies against him. All in
all, to say tempers were frayed would have been an understatement.

The tipping point was the arrival of a new RIDE, a huge dragon called
Peaches. Not that anyone would have dared laugh at him -- he had as
much heavy weaponry by himself as I'd previously seen around the camp.
The malcontents immediately started grumbling about his energy
consumption, and how he was supposed to earn his keep. I couldn't see
what they were trying to accomplish by pushing for a raid anyone could
get behind; even I could see the appeal in giving those slavers a
taste of their own medicine. Say what you want, Alpha had standards.

At least nobody expected Rafe to volunteer this time. His lack of
milspec hardware could rapidly make him a liability on the battlefield,
and he already had a human: me. For the third time in a week or so,
we watched the suborbital take off without us. I felt a pang of worry.
This time they were going into battle. How many RIDEs weren't coming
back? Some of them were good people...

What kind of a thought was that? I was still their slave!

About fifty RIDEs went out, the maximum capacity of the camp's one
rickety aircraft, and about as many stayed behind. Rafe was grateful
to get some help with the power grid, but I was nervous; most of those
who'd stayed behind were hardline human haters. Thankfully, one of the
camp's few laws could be summed up as "finder's, keeper's": no RIDE
would have forced another to give up their human.

Miraculously, everybody returned safely. But that's when things took
an ugly turn.

You see, the first RIDEs ever built were based on land mammals. Those
are generally close enough to humans that the only extras you get are
big ears and a tail. When they started basing them off birds and
dolphins, it turned out those would twist the bodies of their RIDErs
to a much higher degree, enough that swapping Fuse partners too soon
afterwards could be lethal. And now they were designing RIDEs based on
dinosaurs, or even mythical creatures.

All those were now forming a separate group as we went to meet the
returning expedition. And they challenged AlphaWolf openly. Every time
he'd throw them a bone, they'd find something else to whine about. It
all ended up with a dozen former slavers being traded around like
collectibles. Not a pretty show. But much as I didn't want anyone to
go through that, I'd heard an old lynx recounting how she'd rescued a
girl they were keeping locked up in conditions that made Alpha Camp
look like paradise.

Even the worst RIDEs would never have done that to one of their own.

----

People have never ceased believing in the mysterious and the
supernatural. Space scouts always have some tall tale about alien
artifacts and ruins, for instance. And ghost stories make as much
sense on Zharus as they do anywhere else.

Gondwanans have the Integrates: a supposed merging of human and RIDE
that transcends mere cybernetic implanting; a seamless blend of living
tissue and machine, with incredible powers. As rumors have it, they
live deep in the Dry, hidden as only they can, and anyone who dares
disturb their isolation will be forcibly turned into one of them -- or
worse.

Funny that RIDEs would be more afraid of these mythical Integrates
than, say, the Gondwanan Federated Marshals locating and assaulting
Alpha Camp. But that's the price of true artificial intelligence:
sometimes RIDEs can be as irrational as any human, even to the point
of having their own religions of sorts.

No wonder that when a RIDE ran across the camp, screaming at the top
of his metaphorical lungs that Integrates were coming for all of us
and broadcasting admittedly suspicious video from the graveyard, many
of the residents went into panic mode and abandoned the dome. Others,
surprisingly enough, were attacking the intruders, even as Fenris sent
reassuring messages.

Then the explosions came, several of the stone spires close to the
graveyard crashing down noisily. As if that hand't been enough, the
hardlight dome keeping the camp livable for humans and crops failed.
And at least a dozen of the runaways had left their humans out in the
open, fear of Integration overwhelming their need for thumbs.

AlphaWolf was the first to react, getting a few of the remaining RIDEs
to Fuse with the stunned slaves. "Help me get the rest of them into
one of the cabins," he called.

"Put them in Dorm 2!" shouted Rafe.

"Why there?"

"We fixed the emergency cooling system two days ago!"

They did so. "Everyone accounted for?" asked Rafe.

"Two missing."

"I'm on it." We left AlphaWolf deal with more urgent matters and went
to take a look at those crashed spires.

Yep, that was it. One of them had landed on top of a small log cabin,
crushing it, and as Rafe's sensors indicated, that's where the pair
had been hiding for an intimate moment together. They'd somehow taken
refuge under a heavy table, but they were pinned. And the piece of
rock on top of them was too heavy for a light RIDE to move.

I leaned down to get the lighter debris out of the way first, and Rafe
lent his strength. Or maybe he started the motion, and I went along;
we couldn't tell anymore as of late.

But then he raised our hand, and daggers of light shot from our
outstretched palm, spraying us harmlessly with rock fragments from
the shattering boulder. It broke in half along a sinuous surface. We
still couldn't move it.

"Let us help you," said someone from behind. It was Melinda the badger,
padding our way in her Fuser form, but the voice was that of her human.

"Thank you," I said simply.

It was an easy task between the four of us.

----

"I didn't know you could do that, Rafe."

"What? Oh, you mean my built-in pulse weapon?" He shrugged. "All RIDEs
have one, we just don't need it much."

"Except in combat?"

"Ha! You want a real gun in combat, kid, not this pea shooter."

I nodded. "Do you regret not being a real military RIDE?"

He thought for a moment. "No, not really. I mean, I'd fight to the
death to protect what I love, but war as a general rule is just
pointless death and destruction."

With the dome back up, if not at full strength, and many runaways
returning once the initial panic had worn off, life once again had a
semblance of normalcy. There would be plenty of cleanup work to do,
but it could wait. For now, all the camp's population gathered in the
village square.

As it turned out, not only were Integrates real, but they were here
now. In fact, they had known the location of Alpha Camp since it had
been founded. So had the Marshals, who had only let it exist because
it was the lesser of many evils, by far. Talk about an alien landing
in the Dry.

Incidentally, a few of the Fused pairs on camp ''had'' been forcibly
Integrated, apparently to save them from a kind of software trojan
that could make a RIDE entrap and torture a human to death. We saw
them, and they were definitely no monsters. Only confused, and sad.
They hadn't hated their human halves before being infected. No wonder,
though, that for once Rafe felt we were both much safer un-Fused.
Well, there was also a suborbital the Marshals had flown in to pick
up our guests. It was headed to one of their bases near Aloha, from
where I could easily get a lift.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way between us," Rafe confessed while we
stood at the foot of the ramp. "You know, you were the first human to
ever treat me like a person."

"Well, you acted like a person towards me from the very first moment."

"Even as I made you into a slave?"

"Well, as an old science fiction story postulated, only a sapient life
form would think to put another creature in a cage."

He chuckled. "Good bye... Alex."

I ran up the ramp in the nick of time. By nightfall I was in Aloha.
Airy, exotic Aloha. Jewel of the Zharusian Tropics. Along the seashore,
palm trees swayed in the salty breeze, and the sound of parties echoed
in the distance.

To me it all just felt cold and uncaring.

----

I'd missed the opportunity to register as a company co-founder, but it
didn't bother me. My friends paid for my electrician certification
either way. There should have been some classes as well, but I easily
fast-tracked through them. Practical experience is the patron goddess
of teaching, after all.

My friends also offered to pay for surgery to remove my wolf ears and
tail.

"That's out of the question," I answered. "Never bring it up again."

They chalked it up to PTSD.

Time passed. Between bouts of work, I was keeping a keen eye on the
news. The world had gone crazy during my little forced vacation. An
Integrate had breached the masquerade, and it turned out there were
several factions: those who wanted to be able to live a normal life
in society, those who just wanted to be left alone in their
isolation... and those who hated the rest of us ("meat and mech", as
they liked to say) with a passion, considering themselves superior.

And the latter had gone on the offensive.

The first major engagement of this war had already consumed itself.
Hostile Integrates had taken over the single largest mining platform
in the Dry, only to be driven off again by a private strike team.
Then things became really weird. While I was still settling in, news
services reported of a double attack on Nextus, during which both
Integrates and AlphaWolf had tried to kidnap a certain rich family,
presumably for ransom, and had gotten in each other's way. I didn't
believe it for a moment. Indeed, it didn't take NextusLeaks long to
reveal that the Alpha team had been the good guys in this story.

It hadn't been so easy in Uplift.

There had been two incidents there, in fact. One, a surgical strike at
a press conference, had been a clear victory for the other side. Who
then proceeded to become cocky and launch a full-scale assault against
the city. I cringed at the video of failing hardlight domes, an entire
metropolis left vulnerable to the forces of nature, and scattered
shootouts in the sandblasted streets. How many people there hadn't
been lucky enough to have a Rafe of their own?

But that was much later. Enough that I was growing used to living on
my own. Enough that I was beginning to forget.

Then news came that the single largest battle of the war had just
taken place at Alpha Camp.

I was in a daze for hours.

Mind you, Alpha had ''won'', and in a spectacular way at that. But not
without heavy casualties. Pointless death and destruction, indeed...
Perhaps the only real gain had been the amnesty granted AlphaWolf and
his followers as recognition of their role in ending the Integrate
wars. Alpha Camp was going legit. Going on the map for that matter...
and rebuilding.

Construction was going to be a booming business there for years, I
told my friends. This was the perfect time to set up offices in a new
market, and only one of us knew more than rumors about the place. They
didn't find anything suspicious with my suggestion. Even their worry
over my going back seemed genuine.

I don't know how I walked to the coffee break room. My knees gave way
and I sat on a couch, hugging my arms. Would Rafe even accept me as a
willing pair? Would I even find him alive?

Only one way to find out.

----

There were three domes in Alpha Camp now, one of them large enough to
cover the new aerodrome. Large Integrates busied themselves unloading
shipping containers out of suborbitals and carting them off to town.
I strolled that way myself, among construction sites, elbowing my way
through a busy crowd. Too many new faces. Too much noise.

A proper office building stood where the old admin shed had been, but
nobody was in. A note on the door said to comm AlphaWolf if it was
urgent. It was easy to decide that it wasn't. So Rafe wasn't acting
administrator anymore. Hm.

The streets were dug up, work proceeding apace to bury water pipes and
the like. And yes, there was more than one street now. It took me a
while to find Flora's little greenhouse, which looked so quaint now
among all the new developments. But she wasn't at home.

One place left to check.

The graveyard was gone too, a pair of little buildings standing in the
quiet enclosure, which by some miracle was otherwise undeveloped. It
was easy to guess at my destination thanks to the hardlight projector
that spelled "Freeriders Garage" in proud letters.

"Hello, Paul, Fenris." I acknowledged the huge wolf, who was poking
his head inside through a bay window made to size. "I'm Alex Hunter.
You probably don't remember me."

"Rafe's human, right?" asked Paul. "Funny coincidence, he was just
talking about you earlier."

"He's here?"

"Yep. Bay 6, in the back." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
"Knock yourself out."

At first I didn't recognize the metallic RIDE secured into a
maintenance cradle, with half of its access panels missing, cables and
tubes going into various ports. Then he lifted his head, and his eyes
-- now reduced to inexpressive reddish lenses -- lit up from inside.

"Aw, why didn't you comm ahead, kid? I didn't want you to see me like
this." His voice, too, had a metallic tinge.

I hugged his big ole' head. "Who cares what you look like? You're
alive!"

He chuckled. "You don't look too shabby yourself. Still carrying my
tags, I see."

"I wouldn't give them up for the world."

"...Thank you."

We sat together in silence for a while.

"So, how long until they let you out of the hospital?" I joked.

"A few days at most. You're here to stay?" He sounded as if he didn't
dare hope.

"How else?"

He nodded weakly. "Thank you. Better get yourself a place to sleep
then, eh? 'Fraid I still don't have one. Didn't expect to need it."

"No problem. Say, any idea where Flora and Henriette hang out these
days? They weren't at their place."

I couldn't possibly miss his hesitation.

"They're gone," he said hoarsely. "And don't you start crying on me!
Either of them was more of a fighter that day than I'll ever be."

It was small consolation, and I told him as much, in a few more words
perhaps, and not too coherent.

At least me and Rafe had all the time in the world.

THE END

Bucharest, 2013-11-14

{{series bar
|series=Alpha Camp
|next=[[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]]}}

User:Claude LeChat

2016-01-30T15:28:21Z

Claude LeChat: Moved the humor section out from under the stories.

{{my stories}} [[Category:Author]]

== About me ==

I'm a recent furry, but lifelong speculative fiction reader, and now a writer too. (As a hobby, mind you.) However, I should probably warn you that I'm somewhat of an outsider to the TF community, drawn here by friends and a number of awesome stories.

== Contacting me ==

I can be most readily be found [http://www.furaffinity.net/user/claudecat/ on FurAffinity] or [http://claudelechat.tumblr.com/ on Tumblr]. Or you can e-mail me via Shifti (I think).

== My stories ==

=== Original ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Dragon's Wish|Dragon's Wish]]: a fantasy flash fiction;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf With the Red Cap|The Wolf With the Red Cap]]: a Rule 63 version of the famous story, with a bit of TF thrown in;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet|Parole Planet]]: a science fiction novelette about a young man stranded on a distant planet, among strangers with odd customs... that will slowly change him.

=== FreeRIDErs ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] (a stand-alone [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|FreeRIDErs]] story -- can be read on its own without knowing anything about the setting);
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] (a shorter sequel/epilogue of sorts to ''Alpha Camp'');
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]] (third story in the ''Alpha Camp'' series).

Feedback on my stories is welcome, but I ''will'' argue with you: I don't do things without a good reason.

== FreeRIDErs humor ==

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Uplift? 
A: MPs come to work wearing pants.

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Aloha? 
A: MPs come to work wearing ''something''.

Q: How do you know it's Casual Friday in Nextus? 
A: There must be some mistake. In Nextus they have Casual ''Monday''.

Why did the RIDE cross the road? Because the road was of the opposite sex.

== Favorites ==

(from Shifti)

* Pretty much anything from the aforementioned FreeRIDErs setting.
* [[User:Sturmovik/Extracted|Extracted]], and other stories from Sturmovik's [[United Federation of Alternate Worlds]] setting.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Destinies|Destinies]], an awesome sci-fi novel by the late Michael Bard, fairly hard SF until near the end. Reminiscent of A.E. Van Vogt and Arthur C. Clarke, except much better written.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Diary_of_a_Centaur_in_a_Human's_World|Diary of a Centaur in a Human's World]], by the same author. Furry transformation done right for a change, with all the body horror it would normally involve.
* Joysweeper's [[501st]] and [[Femtroopers]], from the Xanadu series. Deep psychological TF fiction in an utterly surreal setting.
* [[Refamiliarization]], by Xodiac, another Xanadu story.

User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet

2016-01-30T15:18:52Z

Claude LeChat: Created

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Human]] [[Category:Aquatic]]

{{title
|name=Parole Planet
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11539783/ from FurAffinity]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

{{dropcap|T}}he teenager stood in the middle of the road, shaking with both fear
and cold, his clothes barely adequate for a night in the mountains
even in late summer. Straight ahead, shiny eyes stared at him from the
pre-dawn gloom; a long, low building blocked his way to the right, and
the forest to the left was darker than his darkest dreams. But it was
what lay behind him that scared him the most: the castle wall with its
open gate, a patch of light in which floated robed and hooded
silhouettes. He was trapped, and it was his own damned fault too.

----

He had jumped at the chance, of course. What teenager would pass up
the opportunity to visit another planet? Especially now that the magic
of hyperdrive had cut down the trip to no more than a few weeks. And
his father had money; it wasn't like they were going to travel packed
like sardines in economy class.

There were plenty of reasons for people to travel between Earth and
its extra-solar colonies: tourism, science, cultural exchanges,
visiting relatives or simply emigration. The boy's father had yet
another. Common wisdom maintained that there was no way to make
interstellar commerce profitable -- basically anything you could
manufacture, you could manufacture in any star system. And if any man
could prove everyone wrong, that was the most illustrious business
administrator in the world. So, after the extensive research that was
his modus operandi, he had loaded his son and wife on a starliner
bound for Mir. It was going to be a long stay.

Now, Mir wasn't just any colony; one of the original three founded
before faster than light travel had become possible, it was also one
founded on the ideal of freely embraced cooperation, and it showed.
Even NuShan, the oldest and most straight-laced polity on the planet,
was a libertarian paradise compared to Western Europe, something the
teenager's new friends insisted on demonstrating.

Oh, it had been exhilarating to climb on top of the city's geodesic
dome -- useless now that the terraforming process was in its final
stage -- and the police hadn't even seem very angry when they brought
everyone back down. A mad speeder race around the base of the same
dome had resulted in a mere warning when it turned out nobody had
actually been hurt in the multiple collisions. But he should have
known they were pushing their luck when the little island they had
discovered right off the coast turned out to house a disused military
base. The explosion of whatever was left in those fuel tanks had
nearly sunk several boats and downed an unlucky tourist shuttle.

At least he had been alive to hear the dreaded words: "Patrick Lee
El-Sabra, you are under arrest for trespassing, destruction and
criminal negligence."

Oh, his father's influence had been enough to ensure a discreet and
speedy trial. But the sentence was another story. Patrick had been in
a daze as the judge announced his decision: five years in a work camp
on the yet unpopulated eastern subcontinent. Five years?! His parents
were going to be on Mir for six months! His ears were buzzing; he saw
his father's Mirian partner conferring with the judge, and when the
latter asked him something about accepting a deal, the boy nodded
automatically, head swimming.

The same night, a small police suborbital dropped him on a small
plateau, high in what his mobile indicated as the MonShaar mountains,
about six timezones to the west. He looked up... up at the fortress
that seemed to grow out of sheer rock, and his heart sank. A gate
opened, through which people in uniform-like robes filed out to meet
Patrick's escort. They led him in with few words; his father had been
too tired to come, as for his mother, she had refused to even see him
since the arrest. For the first time in his life, the boy was alone.

----

Patrick stood in the middle of the road clutching his little backpack,
while above him Mir's distant moons paled. No, not moons, he corrected
himself; *siblings*. His feet were freezing on the cobblestones, but
he didn't dare move: from further down the road, half a dozen huge
dogs watched him. On the right was a kind of long house, with a
high-pitched roof and a porch all along its side. From the left
drifted in the smell of pine needles and the call of an owl. And...
there was someone there, too.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a feminine shape peeled off from
the shadows and came very close to him. She was about his age, with
short slick hair and big eyes, wearing a necklace made of tiny daggers
over a rough, airy tunic and matching skirt. She carried a heavy
cleaver in a hand with thick, pointed fingernails, and her sandal-clad
feet sported toes that were unusually long... and webbed. Her eyebrows
were nearly invisible; her nostrils, he realized, could close.

Then she grinned, revealing two rows of small pointy teeth.

"Come with me if you want to live," she said.

He turned. The suborbital was just taking off again, its positioning
lights shooting off into the sky, and the robed people were coming
their way, faces still hidden. The girl turned on her heels and ran
into the forest, Patrick stumbling and tripping after her like a puppy.

----

It was a chalet build on sloping terrain, under a cliff that loomed
darkly over the treetops. The light was still growing when the girl
led Patrick in through a side door, directly into a kitchen adjoining
a small dining room. The floor was cement, and exposed pipes coiled
around each other like ugly snakes just waiting for him to come close.

"So... what's your name?" he asked, dropping his backpack on a chair.
"What is this place?" He ducked under a low beam in the nick of time.
The aroma of fresh vegetables reached his nostrils, and his stomach
growled. "What's for breakfast?"

She swirled and poked him in the chest with the cleaver. "You are, if
you keep asking stupid questions. Now shut up and help me with these."

He took a step back, then another. One more, and he bumped into a wall
that hadn't been there on the way in.

It was a young man, about as tall and wide as the door leading deeper
into the house, dressed similarly to the girl and with random patches
of skin on the left side of his body covered in big, golden reptilian
scales.

"Caught yourself a new one, Carmen?" he asked in a deep voice. "Kinda
scrawny." He towered over Patrick, staring down into the boy's eyes.
"You do what she says. I'm Naran, by the way."

"P... Rick," stammered the teenager and tiptoed back to Carmen's side.
"Tell me what to do," he said meekly.

----

He had expected to peel potatoes for hours, but it turned out there
was in fact an autocook -- a clunky contraption that filled a corner
of the kitchen, looking more Art Deco than interstellar age, complete
with blinkenlights and puffs of steam, like a mechanical idol waiting
to be fed. More people came in while Patrick cleaned up. A short,
hairy guy growled at him and went straight for the coffee pot. Then
twin younger boys with shaven heads, brightly colored tunics
contrasting with their brown skin, stopped in the door, oblivious to
his presence.

"I have got to finish the machine by tomorrow," whispered the one on
the left, "or Master Rune will have my skin for sure."

"Fat chance," retorted the other, "you would need a blood sacrifice."

"That can be arranged. You know that black rooster who has it in for
me?"

They clamped up and peered suspiciously at Patrick, then shuffled off
to the far corner of the room, leaving him to sweat. He was almost
done when the outside door slammed open and three cloaked figures
entered. The new girls all had their hair in a different color, but
the same bluish complexion to their skin, and a circuit-like network
of silvery lines tattooed on their forearms, with a metallic sheen to
it. The teenager blinked. Were they... cyborgs? But the practice was
banned... surely on any civilized world?

"New guy," chuckled the first one.

"Yesss..." added the second.

"I'm hungry," stated the third. Right on cue, the autocook opened its
iron maw, letting out a hiss and a blast of heat.

----

To his mild surprise, Patrick was still alive an hour later. Well fed,
too. He even knew the names of everyone in the room, and it hadn't
driven him insane. Yet.

Across the table from him, Carmen set her chopsticks on a paper towel.

"All right. The first order of business for today is to get Rick here
a place to sleep. We're going to reopen the old cabin over by the
stream -- this hovel is packed to the rafters already."

The hairy guy grumbled, and Carmen shot him a look that could saw
bones. "Unless you want to bunk with me?" He squeaked and shrunk even
smaller than he already was.

Like any disused building, the cabin in question had accumulated
thick layers of dust, cobwebs and clutter. It was almost noon before
Patrick could sit on a boulder, muscles trembling from the effort.
No, not noon, he remembered; mid-morning. He still wasn't used to the
length of the Mirian day. The stream gurgled happily at his feet,
catching the sunlight that filtered through the trees and throwing it
back into his eyes. Off in the distance, he could hear the sound of
a waterfall... and footsteps.

Naran sat heavily on the ground next to him. "Can I ask you a
question?"

The teenager nodded briskly.

"You're from off-world." It wasn't a question. "Let me guess, Earth?"

"H... how do you know?"

The giant pinched his biceps. "Hardly any muscle on you. Lower gravity
and all that."

"O... okay. Yes, it's true."

Naran nodded. "So, how did you end up here? You're a long way from
home."

"I... er..." What was he supposed to say? I nearly killed scores of
innocents? The words stuck in his throat. "I don't even know what
'here' is..." he managed to say.

"You don't?!" Naran scratched his head. "Well, we call it..."

He cut off. Someone was coming towards them from the other side of the
stream, dressed in a robe that was equal parts monk's cloth, military
uniform and badass longcoat, with a hood draped over his back. Patrick
watched frozenly as the newcomer crossed the water on a log no wider
than his foot without even slowing down.

It was a man, resembling an angel from a Renaissance painting, only
less androgynous and with deep lines on his otherwise youthful face.
Naran stood up as he approached. "Master Rune," he greeted.

The man nodded in response and looked at Patrick. The giant took the
hint and walked back towards the cabin with big heavy steps.

"How are you holding up, Patrick?"

The teenager stood up, wringing his hands. "I... didn't have time to
think about it."

"Good. That was the idea." The man smiled. "Called your parents yet?"

"I... I can do that?"

"Of course. You still have your mobile, don't you?"

Patrick patted his pocket instinctively and nodded.

"Look, I don't know how much they told you over in NuShan, but this
isn't a prison."

The boy didn't say anything.

"No, seriously." Master Rune pointed with a thumb back over his
shoulder. "You can walk right out that gate and no-one will try to
stop you."

"And the next thing I know, they put me in work camp for violating my
parole," Patrick said bitterly. "Gee, thanks. I feel so free right
now."

"Oh? And what are we supposed to do?" asked the older man mildly.

"I don't know... refuse to take part in this masquerade?"

"And let you toil for five long years out in the wastes?" He cocked
his head, as if listening to a distant call. "I'm needed elsewhere.
But my door is open if you want to talk."

He went back across the stream in a hurry.

"Hey!" Patrick yelled after him. "What is this place anyway?" But the
man had already vanished among the trees. The teenager sighed and
turned back towards the cabin, only to find himself staring into
Carmen's grin.

"Break's over," she said, and led the way.

----

The call animation stayed on screen for a long time.

"Patrick," his father said abruptly the moment he picked up. He looked
really, really tired. And sad.

"Hi, dad."

"How... how are you? Is there anything you need? I'm sorry, I should
have..."

"Never mind, dad. How is mom?"

"She'll forgive you."

They looked at each other in silence for a long while.

"Listen, son... I talked to our lawyer. The authorities might agree to
let you go free after just one year."

The Mirian year was four hundred days long, minus some change. Not
that the difference mattered much at this point.

"So? You'll only be here for half that long."

"No. We're extending our stay. It's better for the new business
anyway."

"Really? That's... thanks, dad." He touched the little screen with a
few fingers, and his father did the same on his side. There was more
silence.

"Patrick... take care. We'll come visit as soon as we can."

The teenager nodded. "Thanks, dad. Tell mom I love her."

"I will."

Click.

Patrick looked at the sun that was now leaning westwards, and got up
from the little cabin's porch. It was very, very quiet, and he needed
to be around someone... anyone.

----

Between the stream and the impassable cliffs at the back of the
natural fortification there was a relatively flat stretch of land,
with rare trees and tall grass. Behind a disused shed were strewn worn
out pieces of carved stone. A few looked disquetingly like funerary
monuments. Patrick passed by them as fast as he could, and that was
when he noticed the small clearing.

It was no more than ten meters across, bathed in sunlight and with the
grass all trampled around the hideous machine in the center. Spindly
articulated legs supported a metal frame inside which gears turned
hypnotically. Pedipalp-like limbs moved up and down with the grinding
tick-tock noise, but otherwise there was no sign anyone was there.
Morbid fascination pushed Patrick forward; as there was no reaction,
he leaned closer to better examine the back of the machine, where
several dials and hands turned, slowly but inexorably converging
towards some mysterious alignment. At the highest point of the frame,
an urn held a reddish liquid which dripped through a maze of channels
that reached all the moving parts, before collecting in a tray at the
bottom. There was a pit under the mechanism, and Patrick leaned just
a little further.

"Now, what in the world should we do with you?" asked a youthful voice.
It was the twins, standing between him and the relative safety of the
forest with serious faces.

"You have found our secret. This cannot be," added the other brother.

"Now you will have to join us."

"If Master Rune allows it."

Patrick blanched. "You... you're kidding, right?"

"Oh no," said the older man, coming from behind to stand in front of
him, hands on his hips. "They are quite serious."

The teenager felt dizzy all of a sudden, and then he was kneeling in
the grass, the twins laughing their heads off in stereo.

----

"You remind me of a very good friend," Rune began. "He was also from
Earth, and afraid of everything. The retreat wasn't even as scary back
then, but still he cried for days after he arrived."

They were sitting on a bench not far from the gate, watching what
seemed to be a martial arts lesson right where the road bent around
the longhouse. Patrick noted that every master's robe was in fact
different. One of the dogs ventured by, tail wagging slowly, and Rune
petted him. After some hesitation, the teenager did, too.

"So... why didn't he just leave?" he asked.

"He was a refugee from the Second Corporate War. Nothing to go back to,
no ship to take him there... He had literally nowhere to go. Stuck
here, just like you are now."

"It's not the same thing!"

"Isn't it? If he couldn't leave any more than you can, was he any less
of a prisoner?"

Patrick fell silent for a while. "What happened to him?"

"Well, in the end he came to terms with himself. Learned enough skills
to go out into the world, and never looked back." The older man sighed.

"What kind of skills?" The boy looked meaningfully towards the open
air class.

"Carmen still hasn't told you? I swear, that girl... Anyway, we're
Dhiira. It means wise, learned, steadfast, brave -- all the ideals to
which we aspire."

"You're warrior-monks." Patrick snapped his fingers. "I've read about
that on the 'net. Should've guessed."

The master chuckled. "Most people see us that way, yes. But what we
really are is *hackers*."

"Hackers? Isn't that, like, illegal?"

"Hrm. Only on Earth, Patrick. But even here, most people don't like
being reminded how fragile their world really is. So we've learned to
mostly stay away from society unless society asks for our help."

The teenager nodded. "Don't you feel lonely?"

"Sometimes, a little." Master Rune smiled. "But now you're here."

Patrick stared at him in surprise. The setting sun gave the older
man's face a golden sheen. "Oh no! It's almost dinner time! Carmen
will have me as the main course if I'm not there to help!"

He ran away among the trees, followed by a friendly gaze.

----

It took Patrick another week to give up his self-cleaning spandex for
an apprentice's tunic. But he wasn't even wearing as much while he sat
with Naran on a house-sized rock, watching Carmen dive into the little
waterfall's pool five meters below. To his mild disappointment, she
was wearing a fairly modest bathing suit -- and in all honesty, he was
grateful to have shorts on right now.

"So, what's the deal with her?" he asked the bigger boy.

"What do you mean?... Oh."

"Yeah, that. She's no alien -- there's no such thing as aliens -- but
she can't be human either... can she?"

"Think about it. She's a hacker. And nowadays we can tweak genes or
perform surgery from within with nanobots."

"So... she hacked her own body? But why? The whole reason we're on
another planet at all is that Homo Sapiens is flexible."

"Indeed. Jacks of all trades, masters of none. Sometimes that's more
constraining than liberating."

Carmen had resurfaced behind the curtain of water, and was swimming
back their way.

"I just wish I could hack her attitude as well." quipped Patrick.

"You and me both, pal. You and me both."

----

Autumn was coming by the time Patrick's parents made time to visit.

He waited for them outside the gate, dressed in the cloak younger
Dhiira usually wore away from the retreat. They weren't as cool as
a master's robe, but the latter created much higher expectations. As
it was, the farmers down in the valley were always happy to see them,
and so were the unfortunates stuck with guard duty at that military
listening post nobody was supposed to know about. After all, it was
only reachable from the air. Unless you were Dhiira, that is.

Movement among the trees made him alert. A steel scarab trundled up
the sweeping curves of the road, regularly going in and out of view.
With its eight independent wheels, the truck could have ignored the
road entirely, but today it had passengers. Patrick wondered why his
parents hadn't simply chartered a suborbital. Maybe they wanted to
visit the nearby metropolis of ValShaar while they were in the area.
He certainly understood the attraction, but the terms of his parole
didn't allow him to go that far even with supervision.

His had been a small world as of late, and he could only spend so much
time online until that, too, became trite.

The visitor helped his wife climb down from the cab, and they stood
aside for a moment, wind howling around them, while the truck eased in
through the gate. Someone was coming to meet them, a local by all
appearances, strong sunburnt arms covered in cuts and scrapes. He took
off his hood as they turned to face him.

"Mom, dad," said Patrick simply.

"Hello, Patrick," his father greeted. His mother didn't say anything.

The teenager examined them lovingly. They seemed older than last time
he had seen them, and shorter too. His father had on one of his usual
business suits which looked so quaint here on Mir. As for his mother,
her attire amounted to grieving clothes.

And then she was smothering him with hugs, sobbing loudly. "My boy!
What have they done to you?"

He squeezed her awkwardly. "Mom... mom? I'm *fine*. Look at me!"

"I think your mother is trying to say that you've changed, son."

Patrick wiped a tear of his own. "So have you. Come inside, it's going
to rain."

Several dogs gathered around them on the way in, sniffing and snorting,
until the teenager called each of them by name and rubbed their ears.

----

"What a dump," muttered Patrick's mother as they sat down in the
chalet's cramped dining room, bowls of hot soup steaming on the table.
"I've seen better equipped prisons."

"Good thing Carmen isn't around to hear you."

"Who?"

"Never mind. How've you been? Dad never tells me anything on video."

His father coughed. "Where is everyone, anyway? Are we even supposed
to be here?"

"They're busy giving us personal space.", Patrick grinned. "And it's
highly irregular, but that's exactly how we like things around here."

"We?" His mother peered at him suspiciously.

The teenager choked. "Uh... anyway, how's business?"

"Bad." His father's mood darkened. "Tensions have been rising between
Mir and Earth. People on both sides are afraid to trade with each
other." He sighed. "Between legal expenses and plain old losses, we're
really strapped for cash now."

"I'm so sorry..." Patrick whispered, staring at his boots.

"Well, it can't be helped. Eat your soup, it's going cold."

He focused on his bowl, and didn't seem to notice when his wife pulled
their son into the adjoining kitchen.

"What is it, mom?"

"I know my boy. You would never complain to your father. But I made
friends of my own in NuShan these past few months. Whatever you need,
I can pull strings for it. You can tell your mother."

Patrick's shoulder's slumped. For a moment, it looked like he would
cry again. "All I want is to go home..."

She hugged him tight and didn't say another word until he led them
back to the truck a few hours later.

----

Carmen was arguing with the little hippie again.

At least Patrick assumed that was the look Robert was aiming for, with
his big hair and torn clothes, but as the girl bluntly put it, the end
result was closer to a caveman. Especially with his short, stout body.

"Why do I have to work? We have machines to cook for us, clean after
us, build homes for us! Why should I have to lift a finger?" he roared,
stomping his foot.

"And how do you propose to put food into the autocook?"

"I could build a machine for that too."

"So, build one."

"That would be more work," grumbled Robert.

A few meters away, Patrick loaded one last shovel of rubble into a
mulebot about as big as a pair of oxen and tapped its hood twice.
The machine awoke and tromped away through the forest, flashing its
headlights. The retreat had been growing in population lately, and
older structures had to be torn down to balance out the new ones.
Increasing the land area was not an option. Worse, the whole thing
had to be done before the first snow, and the retreat's handful of
construction robots were more needed elsewhere.

He set the shovel aside, wiping his forehead as he walked towards the
rest of the group.

"We work because there's work to be done, Robert," he said. "Or do you
want to live like an animal?"

"Nobody asked you, *convict*!" snarled the hippie.

There was a stunned silence. They all knew, of course. Had known ever
since a miscalculation trapped them in a small grotto higher up the
mountain, while the mother of a storm raged outside. They had never
seen him with the same eyes again, but none of them had been so rude
about it.

"That's right," answered Patrick quietly. "I'm a convict. I'm forced
to live here. What's your excuse?"

"I've been wondering myself," said Luna. Or maybe Venus. The three
cyborg sisters talked the same and walked the same. "You don't like
us, you don't like it here... no offense, but maybe you should just,
you know."

Robert glowered at each of them in turn, then slumped to the ground.
"I can't," he groaned. "I lied to my parents. Didn't want to go to
college, you see."

"That's your problem?" asked Naran incredulously. "Why don't you talk
to Master Rune about it?"

"Are you kidding? He'd throw me out on my ear!"

"No he wouldn't. Now, Master Shing on the other hand just might."

Robert wailed.

"You're wasting your time, Naran," fumed Carmen. Clanking steps were
signaling the return of the mulebot. "Let him sit there if that's what
he wants." She grabbed a sledgehammer and headed back to the
demolished building. The others followed her one by one. Robert sat
alone for a while, then got up and joined them.

----

The rising sun hadn't yet reached the rocky crags surrounding the
retreat, but the fresh snow on the slopes already shone brilliantly.
A bird, barely visible against the sky, swooped down among the naked
tree trunks in absolute silence. The only other movement was a telecom
laser tracking something unseen from the roof of a chalet, which it
shared with a small weather station and other paraphernalia.

Then something stirred in the shadow of the first story balcony.
A shovel dropped into the snowdrift below, followed by someone in
a billowing gray cloak. Patrick picked himself up from the hole he
had made and proceeded to remove the build-up against the ground
floor wall, muttering choice words about whoever had the bright idea
to place a door facing the prevailing winds.

He was breathing heavily by the time he got the door to open, exhaling
miniature clouds into the morning air. He checked the wrist computer
he had built around what was left of his mobile after that training
accident; Sister Thetys' electronics lessons had paid off. "Truck's
already in!" he said to nobody in particular, eyeing the barely
visible road in the distance. The forest trail leading there was
covered in knee-high snow, but a row of wooden poles spaced about an
arm length apart still poked out, their flat tops swept clean by the
night's wind. The young man chuckled inwardly, remembering how he used
to puzzle over their purpose. Now he jumped on top of the first pole
and easily ran down the slope, using them for a staircase.

The truck was in all right, painted red to stand out in the snowy
landscape and with a new snowthrower attachment at the front. People
milled about it, while hydraulic arms loaded and unloaded robotic
carts. Patrick cut through the crowd, aiming for the porch of the
longhouse. His parents made a point of meeting his guardians on each
visit, and there weren't many places where they could do that.

Master Shing got up as Patrick entered the small lounge. He was
a small man with a round face and a severe expression, who moved
precisely and with purpose.

"We'll leave you, then," he told the visitors.

"Once again, thank you for taking care of our son."

Master Shing bowed his head. "I was opposed to his staying here
initially. I was wrong." He walked out the door, followed by a quiet
Rune, who stopped for a moment to pat the young man's shoulder with a
faint smile.

"That's high praise coming from him, you know," said Patrick as he
crossed the room. He stopped to check out the kettle on the stovetop.
"Mulled wine, mmm."

"You seem well at ease here," quipped his mother.

"Might as well, mom. I have another half a year before I can go home."
He slumped in a chair, holding his mug. "Who am I kidding? The judge
will probably change his mind at the last moment."

"I promise you'll walk free on schedule," his father said. "That's
the good news."

"What do you mean?"

"It's my other promise to you I can't keep, son." He sighed. "We're
out of money."

Patrick understood. "You have to return home early after all."

"We'll be back for you. In half a year."

"I'll live." The young man drank from his mug. "I'll live..."

The lounge was quiet for a while, apart from the buzzing of appliances
and the activity right outside the door.

"So," he asked, "what's the latest gossip? Any news from back home?"

----

People fear and hate technology. Even as they enjoy all the comforts
of modern life, they demonize the source of those comforts. See, you
can't blame the hammer when you hit your finger with it. Or the nail,
bad luck, somebody else... A tool forces you to take responsibility
for your own actions, and most people fear responsibility more than
death. Worse, proper use of a tool requires you to know how things
work, and learning about the world around them scares people even more,
if anything. So somewhere along the line, telling people to learn the
first thing about the stuff that makes their lives so easy has become
socially unacceptable. Engineers have been forced to make technology
ever more unobtrusive, to the point of blending invisibly into
everyday items. Out of sight, out of mind.

Which of course only makes people increasingly helpless when something
inevitably goes wrong.

Patrick could see the superstitious respect in the farmer's eyes as
he watched the Dhiira at work. He was the resident mechanic, but that
meant little more than a technician who could ask the computer for a
diagnostic and follow the instructions. If the machine couldn't give
him a clear series of steps to follow, he was lost. And in all honesty,
the young man could remember a time less than a year ago when he even
relied on the speeder to call the emergency services by itself if it
broke down. Peeking under the hood was part of a secret ritual
reserved for the manufacturer's priesthood. Dealerships as temples...

Sister Luna stood off to a side, looking dignified in her cloak, which
was more ornate than his to show higher rank. It was strictly for show,
of course, but the rest of the world didn't need to know that. She
also had fingerless gloves on, elbow-length to mask her tattoos and
covered in interlocking bits of metal and plastic.

"Try it now!" he said as he crawled out of the micro-jungle in the
hardware cabinet and recovered his own cloak.

In response, she raised a hand and the imposing computer console
nearby sprung to life, windows with scrolling text popping into and
out of existence all over the panoramic monitor. Beyond the bay
windows behind it, the vast glasshouse was awakening, lights coming on
as drones took to the air, sprinklers started up and bridge cranes
whirred into motion.

"Do us a favor," Patrick told the stunned farmer. "When they come for
the spring revision? Don't tell them it was us."

The man nodded, and that's when Luna grabbed Patrick's arm. "Look."
It was hard to see with all the plant life, but outside the building
people were running.

"Something's wrong," he answered, and they all but flew down the
stairs. Behind them, the mechanic scratched his head and sat down to
watch his miraculously revived machinery.

----

The bridge over the river was a thing of beauty, with sweeping arches
made of transparent materials, which made it blend into the landscape
like something out of a dream -- ghostly offspring of the surrounding
hills, perched high above the rapid waters.

It was also a century old by now, and likely under-maintained. Which
did not mesh well with the rapidly-melting snow from upstream making
the river swell to several times its normal flow.

By the time Patrick got there, the ends of the bridge had already
collapsed, trapping two little children on the better-supported middle
section. One of the farmers, secured with a cable, was inching along
a surviving support beam towards them, while a dozen others watched.

Then that beam gave up as well, throwing the rescuer against the
riverbank, while the kids slid off the suddenly leaning bridge and
into the frothing water. Somehow, one of them managed to grab a rock,
and they held on for dear life while the crowd above stared in horror.

"Somebody jump after them!" shouted a thick masculine voice.

"Are you nuts?" replied a similar one. "Nobody can survive for long
down there!"

"I can," said Carmen, a haunted look in her eyes. Nobody had seen her
coming, and they didn't make a move while she took off most of her
clothes. She dove just as the little boy lost his grip and disappeared
under the waves along with his sister.

Naran was running towards the group with a second roll of cable.

"The other bridge!" Patrick shouted at him. "Past the bend!" and ran
that way along with everyone else.

"I saw her jump," puffed Naran while he dropped an end of the cable
into the water and wrapped it around a guardrail. The second bridge
was smaller, but that meant it never needed to touch the water. "If
we don't catch them here..."

"How do you know they'll be able to grab that thing?" asked Patrick.

"They won't be." The giant handed him the rest of the cable. "Hang on
to this."

"What... Wait. I can't hold that much weight!"

"But I can," somebody said behind them. It was a middle-aged woman in
coveralls, almost as big as Naran, with a square face and sandy hair
tied in a bun. She wrapped the cable around one of her arms and
motioned Patrick to do the same. "We've got your back, young man."

The giant nodded, then with a single motion wrapped the dangling part
of the cable around his own body before easing himself down alongside
it, head first, using his legs for traction. Foam whirled around his
outstretched fingers, while the river roared between its banks. For a
long moment, he thought it was in fact too late.

Clawed hands emerged from the madness below, one grabbing his wrist,
the other grasping for the cable. It took all his strength not to let
go when Carmen pulled herself up, the two children clinging to her.
But he held on while half a dozen people hoisted all of them back up.

The girl was still hugging the kids while they huddled together on
solid ground, shivering and coughing.

"What's she saying?" somebody asked from the crowd, and Patrick leaned
down to better hear what she was murmuring through clenched teeth.

"I've got you this time, baby. I've got you this time..."

----

It had been a tumultous spring, and news from Earth only added fuel to
the fire. First there had been that diplomatic incident involving the
World Council ambassador to the Mirian union of city states. (Patrick
still had trouble wrapping his head around the local political system.)
Then rumors that the same World Council had been taken over by the
North Pacific powers. After that, communications had become spotty.
Patrick's videos remained unanswered, save for one message from his
parents that had been edited to pieces.

The retreat was changing as well. Robert had been gone since winter,
of course, but now Carmen was leaving as well, on a long pilgrimage to
her home in the Harra mountains. One of the new apprentices, barely
a year younger than Patrick, was looking up to him with admiration
normally given a father figure, which was a bit much for someone who
wouldn't even have been considered an adult back home. But this was
another world...

Compared to that, summer had dragged on like a snail laboring up a
well-polished slide. Against all odds, life was struggling to settle
into a new normal. And that made Patrick afraid all over again. Why
was it sometimes so hard to remember what came before?

He was standing outside the gate one early morning, like so many times
in recent months, while the twins' astronomical clock tick-tocked the
seconds away from its niche in the wall above. The twins themselves
had long moved on to other hobbies. Knowing them, it was something
equally outrageous, such as building a practical transforming mecha --
the eternal chimera of engineering.

Behind him there was a barely audible shuffling noise. "Good morning,
Master Rune," he said without turning.

"Good morning, Patrick." He hesitated. "The judge's office just called.
You're officially free to go."

The young man nodded. "And they couldn't come. So much for promises."

"Who knows what's keeping them..."

"Starliners are never late," Patrick interrupted. "It doesn't work
that way."

"We'll call the spaceport. Worst case, we'll all chip in for your
return ticket."

"My father's partner took care of that. Besides, you've done so much
for me already."

"It's what we do, Patrick. Helping people in need. And you've earned
all of it."

Embarassed silence descended between them. But it didn't last long.

Shouting and running broke the peace of the retreat, echoing through
the gate tunnel behind them. Rune raised his eyebrows and turned to
head back in. He was stopped by a hand waved from a second story
window.

"Hey! Hey! Tune in on the news."

"Which channel?" Patrick shouted back.

"Any channel!"

They spent longer than necessary leaning together over the small
screen, flipping through channels and bringing up searches.

"Broken diplomatic relations... Closed borders..." Rune groaned. "That
means war is imminent."

"Will you go?"

"Many of us will. Our abilities will be needed. Not on the front lines,
mind you. I'm too old for that kind of thing anyway."

Patrick took a few faltering steps before his knees felt too weak, and
he slid to the ground, leaning against the massive stone wall.

"All I wanted was to go home... Was it so much to ask?"

"Your father's partner can take care of you. Failing that, there's a
support center for off-world immigrants down in..."

"What's the *point*?" Patrick raged. "B... besides... once you're gone,
someone will have to stay behind and hold the fort."

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight back tears. It didn't work.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 29 August 2013}}

User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father

2016-01-30T15:11:53Z

Claude LeChat: Fixed incorrect metadata

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:FreeRIDErs]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Wolf]]

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}

{{title
|name=The Wolf and the Father
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://www.furaffinity.net/view/18462599/ from FurAffinity]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

Fri October 12, 158AL

{{dropcap|I}}t's an oft-repeated truism that human beings have no sense of scale.
At least native Zharusians are better in this regard than their
ancestors on Earth. Even so, the mind boggles at the scale of a desert
that could swallow entire continents from mankind's planet of origin.
Countless brave souls scouring that vastness for over a century
haven't come close to exhausting its secrets; how many perished in
the attempt, nobody could tell.

So it happens that even today few people would know where to find the
handful of hardlight domes sheltering a town of maybe five thousand
from the inferno that is the Dry Ocean. Here, the wind can flay meat
right off the bones and boil blood before it spills on the ground,
while a few steps away, inside the shimmering barrier, it's like being
inside an air conditioned building.

The residents of Alpha Camp are grateful for it. Doubly so as some of
them still remember the last time the domes failed.

An evening like any other, one of the latter was patiently making his
way through the thickening traffic along Main Street: a young man,
lightly built, with brown skin and hair that wouldn't stay combed.
He was hovering one meter off the ground on a skimmer bike with
organic curves reminiscent of a stylized wolf; his t-shirt and jeans
looked especially plain among outfits from all over the twentieth
century, brought back to life by the vagaries of fashion after five
hundred years.

At length, he made his way to the small park at the very center of
the town, pulling over next to a water well straight out of a
Spaghetti Western. He reached over to place a big paper bag on a
nearby bench, his other hand brushing over the dashboard in an oddly
tender gesture. To that the bike reacted, unfolding like a giant metal
origami which enveloped the young man completely. A hardlight furcoat
flickered into being. Seconds later, it was a three-meter-tall
humanoid wolf who stood there, wearing only a metal kilt for modesty.
The new creature sat on the bench and opened the bag, revealing a big
home-made sandwich and a couple of apples.

"Remember when we first ate together, Alex?"

"How could I forget, Rafe? Flora and Henriette had made us a bag just
like this one."

The young man's voice broke. Tears welled up in his eyes. From outside,
his living armor seemed firm as a rock, but inside man and machine
clung to each other for strength.

"We were... we were sitting right here... at dusk..."

"Shh... let's eat now."

They did so in silence. The sun descended towards the horizon,
painting the treetops red, then even the long Zharusian day ended.
A foam of stars winked into view across the darkening sky. That, too,
stirred up memories.

"What's troubling you, Rafe?"

"Is it so obvious?" The RIDE chuckled -- a mechanical grinding noise.

"It's this whole Beta Camp affair, isn't it? I'm shaken too, if it's
any consolation."

Rafe gave an inward nod. "What if I hadn't gotten to you first, back
in the bad old days?"

Alex shivered. It was a while before he answered. "At least Leona will
never bodyjack anyone again. And to think it was our very own Jeanette
who caught her."

"Hey, Jeanette is the only human in Alpha Camp who bodyjacked her RIDE
instead of the other way around. That has to count for something."

Human and RIDE shared a nervous laugh. Around them, a light breeze
picked up: the domes were large enough to have their own microclimate.
Other stragglers were walking the alleyways. Humans with RIDEs. Humans
''in'' RIDEs. Integrates. One or two even waved to the pair. It didn't
help their mood much.

"Let's go home, Rafe, we have work tomorrow."

The metal origami unfolded again, but this time Rafe didn't go back to
his vehicle form, instead adopting that of his natural counterpart:
an arctic wolf. The night wind ruffled his fur, and he leaned heavily
against his friend. They walked away touching each other at every step.

----

The clickety-clack of high heels echoed along the gloomy corridor,
punctuated by slower, heavier steps. The young woman was plump, with
freckled face and wavy red hair; her dress would have been the height
of fashion in 1938 London. At her side walked a brown bear, wearing
a hat in the same style and matching necklace, but nothing else.
No-one seemed to notice their presence as they went past door after
closed door on either side, silence ringing behind each and every one.

It was a spartan antechamber that awaited at the far end, but nobody
there to stop them. They strode right through, into an office bathed
in blinding sunlight that the venetian blinds did little to temper.

Someone else was present after all, a three-meter tall humanoid wolf
who stood on empty air half a meter above the floor, hands and muzzle
hidden by an open panel in the ceiling. His ears swiveled in the
direction of his guests, and he floated down to the floor, derezzing
the screwdriver he was holding.

"Alice! Helga!" The wolf took a step towards the girl, tail wagging,
then checked himself. It was her who stepped forward and hugged him.

"Figured I'd find you two here. Why are you doing the electrician's
job?"

"I am an electrician, remember? No point in waiting for the repairman."

The girl pouted. "Guys... Aren't you working two jobs already? I
hardly ever see you anymore."

"Oh." The wolf's tail drooped, then perked up again. "But we went out
on Sunday! Spent all the day together, didn't we? And the night."

"That was the other Sunday," she replied drily, hands on her hips.
"Wait... Rafe, would you mind letting Alex out for a moment?"

"Huh? Sure." Wolf and man separated in one fluid motion. By day, the
latter looked distinctly haggard, with ugly bags under his eyes.

"Alex," asked the girl very quietly, "when was the last time you took
a vacation?"

"Don't need one," he protested, right before his knees buckled. She
caught him and lowered him gently on a chair. He looked like a child
as he sat slumped on furniture sized for fused RIDEs.

"Told you so," quipped the she-bear.

"So you did, Helga." The young woman dropped in another chair, her own
bear ears flat against her head. "Rafe, why didn't you tell me he was
overworking himself? Why didn't you stop him?"

Now quadrupedal, Rafe looked very guilty. "I tried to tell him..."

"Tell him?! You should have forced him!"

"You know I won't do that!" replied the RIDE, suddenly angry. He
calmed down just as quickly and licked Alex's face before curling up
at the young man's feet. Helga padded over to nuzzle him.

Across from them, Alice clutched her purse nervously. "Alex, why? What
are you trying to prove?"

The young man bit his lips.

"That's it," she said. "I'm comming Alpha Wolf. You have to take a
break."

"But..." Alex complained weakly. "He needs us here... Alpha Camp is
too big now, and..."

She stared him down.

"All right, all right." He started getting up again. "Let me see if
Claude and Kevin can cover for me next week."

"They're not in the office, Alex. Nobody's in the office. It's
Saturday."

Alex's wolfish ears and tail drooped, just like Rafe's earlier. After
a moment, Alice's expression softened, and she moved to walk him out
the door. "Let's get you home, love. You need a nice long sleep and
a big warm meal, then we can comm the cat and his human."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>One week? Really?:: Helga sent privately.

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Baby steps, sis...:: Alice replied with a mental sigh.

Behind them, the office remained just as quiet as the rest of the
building. Only the sun continued its slow arc in the sky.

----

The living room wall lit up and acquired depth, like a window opening
onto a different place altogether: the porch of an old American
farmhouse, complete with rocking chair. A young man occupied the
latter, looking much like Alex except for the pasty white skin. He was
dressed for his surroundings, and busied himself petting a fluffy
white Persian cat, whose purring made the hidden speakers thrum.

"Rafe, Alex. Haven't seen you in a while, guys. What's up?" The young
man's thick East European accent had softened considerably over the
past year, and he sounded a lot more self-assured than they remembered
him. "Actually, is everything all right? You don't look so hot."

"Yeah. We've just been working a lot."

"Tell me about it, man. You're always first in the office. And last."

"Yeah. About that. Listen, Alice wants me to spend more time with her."

"Woo! Congratulations, man. And celebrations. This ''is'' a good thing,
right? It's what you want, too?"

"I do! I do... but there's more." Alex breathed deeply. "She wants me
to take a vacation and introduce her to my parents."

The man on the other side of the screen perked his feline ears. "So,
go for it! When was the last time you went home, anyway?"

Alex's shoulders sagged. "Not since I left..."

"Yikes! Then what are you waiting for, man? A kick in the behind? Go!
We can hold the fort for a while. Right, Kevin?" he asked the cat in
his lap.

"I thought he'd never ask," the cat deadpanned, looking up at him. "Oh
wait, he still hasn't."

The look of embarassment on Alex's face was worthy of a bad anime.

"Is it settled, then?" Alice padded in, balancing a tray that could
barely contain the mountain of food piled up on it. She lowered it to
the coffee table before lounging on the couch next to Alex, and shoved
a big fat falafel in his hands. On the screen, man and cat alike stood
straight, licking their lips and chops, respectively. The girl giggled.

"Want some? Come on over, we can have a good bye party. My doggy boy
here has such a nice pad and never uses it for anything." She ruffled
Alex's hair, not that it made a difference.

"I'm a wolf, not a dog," Rafe pointed out playfully, raising his head
from behind the couch.

"Wolves are supposed to be dignified," she countered, and ruffled
Rafe's fur as well.

"Bears aren't." Helga arrived from the other room only to roll over
on the floor, kicking lazily at the air. Even Alex managed to laugh.

It didn't take long for the guests to arrive. A small town is made
even smaller when people can fly. In meatspace, Kevin was as big as
Rafe, an impressive avatar of Grumpy Cat. They sat on the other couch,
Claude hugging his feline tail while the RIDE turned into a fluffy
backrest. Why they were called RIDE couches as opposed to ottomans
was a mystery for the ages.

"So, how's your life been, Claude?" asked Alex while opening the beer.

"Touristy! Kevin took me places. Aloha, Cascadia, even Nextus once."
He paused to take a sip from the frosted bottle. "You know, it's
strange. Back home, I used to spend most of my time in VR. But here,
I can't get enough of the real world."

"I wonder why," snerked Kevin.

"Well... it helps that the women in Aloha love a slender catboy."
Claude stretched as if to demonstrate, winking at Alex. "The men, too."

"Hey!" Alice stabbed at the air with a chicken skewer. "He's mine!
Paws off, tomcat!"

She tore at the meat with her teeth, growling for emphasis. Even Kevin
couldn't help smiling.

"Humans..." he muttered.

The party only took off from that moment on. At some point it was
night, then dawn, and daylight again. The sun was rising when they
finally went to sleep.

----

If you follow the Neaera eastward, upstream from Zharustead, the first
thing you notice are the endless wheat fields hugging the riverbanks
as a blue ribbon meanders across Laurasia, pooling into pretty little
lakes here and there before moving on. Farther out, forests and
marshes cover the land in a patchwork of earthy colors before blurring
together in the distance. From place to place, a silo or radio tower
gleams in the sun, as if to reassure travelers that they are never too
far from civilization.

The savage continent of Gondwana is half a planet away.

As the sun started its long descent towards the Thalassic Ocean, two
shooting stars moved in the opposite direction at nearly the speed of
sound. Helga's vehicle form hardly suggested it, but she had no
trouble keeping up with Rafe's perpetually underpowered lifters.
Politeness alone kept her from taking the lead; this was, after all,
Alex's home. It was only fair that he showed the way, if only as a
symbolic gesture: their destination was visible to the naked eye by
now.

"Venars started out as a farming town," the young man spoke into his
comm implant, "and it still is, for all their bragging. Ask my parents,
there's nothing to life but hard work and austerity."

Fifty meters to the side, Alice nodded at the camera on her dashboard.
"That's why you left?"

"It was that or the Continental Guard."

She nodded again. The city's skyline raised before them, a mass of
grey towers south of the river, while to the north a single long road
branched out like a pine tree before dissolving into suburbia, then
farmland.

"What's that?" asked Helga, indicating a third of a ring circling the
west side of the city, higher than most buildings.

"The Sky Bridge," explained Alex. "All that's left of the old weather
dome. They didn't have hardlight a century ago."

"Ooh! Can we visit?"

"I'm yet to meet a tourist who doesn't."

The skimmer bikes were flying lower now, their shields turning from
shimmering bullet shapes to barely visible blobs as the RIDEs shed
most of their speed, and they eased onto the invisible spiderweb
weaved by traffic beacons. They touched down on a lively street,
between a garage with a funky name and a pizzeria that seemed to be
on its way out.

"There are more RIDEs than I remember," noted Alex. His helmet
derezzed, and he got out of the saddle to let Rafe transform.

Alice did the same. "Is that unusual?"

"This side of the pond, it is. Then again, Venars was always...
special."

"So we won't attract stares," Helga said pragmatically.

"As if I care," counted the young woman. She surveyed the Brutalist
architecture of the area, hands on her hips. "Pretty impressive,
actually. Your parents live downtown?"

"No way," laughed Alex. "The family estate is up north. I just wanted
to give you the grand tour first."

"Are you sure you don't want to get a hotel room?"

"Mom would be offended if we didn't stay with her."

The wolf paced around. "Do we ride there?"

"It's a short walk, Rafe. Half an hour, tops."

"That's short?!"

"You've never spent much time on a farm, have you?"

Helga was already strolling down the street. "Coming, girl?"

"As soon as I can get the boys to move."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Still pondering what to tell your parents?:: sent Rafe as they
followed. ::Delaying the inevitable helps little, Alex.::

<nowiki>::</nowiki>I know...::

They dragged their feet after the girls, while a colorful crowd
swirled around them, humans and machines mingling together like one
big happy family.

----

Beyond East Square, with its fountains and moving metal sculptures,
behind the concrete geometry of the new town hall, monumental stairs
climb down to the riverbank, at one end of a long and narrow public
park dotted with beer gardens. The city's three bridges are clearly
visible from here, spaced no more than one kilometer apart; the one in
the middle allows the main road to cross the water. On the other side,
rows of ancient apartment buildings soon give way to small businesses
with ample parking spaces in front: most residents still use skimmers
rather than RIDEs. From every sidestreet beckons the shade of trees
leaning out over decorative fences.

Down one of these streets, far enough that verdant hills and blue sky
can be seen at the other end, stretches a wrought iron fence backed by
a tall hedge, one painted a vivid green, the other in the colors of
autumn. From the gate, an alley covered in dead leaves passes through
the shadow of cherry trees to a sprawling house in the background, its
spotless white walls contrasting with the cracked, uneven flagstones.

"Nobody's home," spoke Alex, after ringing the interphone failed to
elicit a reaction. "And they changed the encryption keys, too."

"My batteries are getting low.", Helga reminded him.

"We have RIDE-safe sockets in the garden. A water tap, too. I'm sorry,
that's..."

"Those were luxuries for us two years ago," Rafe reminded him.

"And look what I have," added Alice, holding up two handfuls of energy
bars.

Alex blinked. "When did you even... Never mind, I don't want to know."

They were having seconds by the time crackling dry leaves signaled new
arrivals. The woman resembled an older version of Alex, except dressed
in a sari worthy of Phileas Fogg's princess. The man was rounder than
Alice and just as fair-skinned, with dark blond hair cleanly cut below
the edge of a homburg. His three-piece suit was straight out of the
Roaring Twenties, complete with gold chain going into a breast pocket.
Neither was going gray yet, despite looking to be in their sixties
already: Zharusians were seldom in a hurry to have kids.

"Amma?" whispered Alex, slowly getting up from the table. "Amma!" he
shouted, wrapping his arms around the woman so hard she gasped.

"Easy, son," said her companion. "Save some for your old man."

"Oh. Hello, dad." Alex hugged him as well.

The woman was trying in vain not to cry. "Our son has grown up."

"So I see," agreed the man. "And who are your friends, son?"

"Ah... Alice, Helga, these are my parents. And this is Rafe," he added.
hugging around the wolf's neck.

"I'm Sahzadi," said the woman with a curtly bow. "Welcome."

"George Hunter," added Alex's father. "Nice to meet you."

They all looked at each other for a moment.

"Aren't you going to ask our son how he's doing?"

"What's the point?" retorted Hunter senior. "I can see he's in one
piece."

She shook her head slowly. "Come inside, everyone. You must be tired.
Just watch your step, I'm afraid our house was built before RIDEs."

"Speaking of which," added her husband. "You never told us you did
have a RIDE, son."

"Actually Rafe has me, dad. But I must have mentioned him in my
e-mails?"

The older man frowned at the correction. "It slipped my mind. I'm not
twenty anymore."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Should I feel offended?:: Rafe sent as they entered.

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Yes... but don't bother telling dad, he won't understand.::

In all honesty, the ranch-style house had far more floor space than
its occupants needed, like mostly anything built on Zharus. It was
cluttered, though, and more than one door was too narrow for Helga.
They ended up sitting on the back porch, with the bay doors wide open.
Halfway to nowhere, tractors tenaciously combed the dark soil.

"You should have commed ahead," Mrs. Hunter said mildly as she brought
coffee and homemade cookies. "We were in town to meet someone."

"It's my fault," explained Alice. "We wanted to surprise you."

"I hear you're a doctor?" Hunter senior asked her.

"Why, yes," she chirped. "At the best clinic in Alpha Camp."

"The only clinic in Alpha Camp," specified Helga. Alice poked her.

"Alpha Camp?" Mrs. Hunter asked worriedly, glancing at Rafe. "Isn't
that where all those evil RIDEs were? Why, I remember talking to Mrs.
Vernon at the time..."

Alex facepalmed. "Amma, I was there. It wasn't like that."

She looked helplessly at her husband, who merely frowned again. "So...
how long are you staying?"

"Well," said Alice, "we were thinking to go for a tour of Laurasia
since we're here. Our vacation lasts until the first of December."

"I still can't believe Alpha Wolf gave us a six-week break," added
Alex.

His father's frown deepened. "You work for a RIDE?" The icy tone left
no doubts as to the man's opinion.

Alice sipped cold coffee and changed the subject.

----

In the soft afternoon light, a humanoid wolf sat with his back against
an oak tree, overlooking an irrigation canal half full of dirty water.
Far away, the tractors still worked tirelessly: Virtual Intelligences
didn't need breaks. Much closer, a rat darted by, almost invisible in
the brown grass. A dragonfly landed in the ditch, only to have a fish
jump after it. Higher up the bank, children with interface spectacles
sat on a broken fence, waving their hands through the air with little
shrieks of delight.

The wolf didn't move even when heavy steps came from behind the tree.
Fused, Alice and Helga were the very definition of a Mama Bear, thick
fur making them seem even bigger than their already substantial bulk.
A faux leather skirt and apron preserved their modesty where that
wasn't enough. Woman and machine sat next to the other pair, and the
tree groaned.

"All that was going to be mine one day, you know." Alex waved his hand
at the farmland spread in front of them.

"What happened?"

"Dad decided I wasn't worthy of it, and then I left. Since then, he
keeps threatening to sell the whole lot. Mom stops him every time."

"Now I understand why you were in no hurry to take a vacation.
Shouldn't have insisted."

He shrugged. "Coming home is a rite of passage. We had to do it sooner
or later."

"I guess." She was silent for a while. Then, "What will you do now?"

"Try and enjoy the stay. For mom's sake."

She nodded slowly.

"Come on." The wolf got up. "Let me show you one of my favorite
childhood places."

They raised into the air hand in hand, lifters sparkling, and floated
towards a patch of forest across the canal. Behind them, two children
took off their specs and gazed in awe.

----

The morning light seeped into the hallway through the crack of a door.
Inside, the bedroom looked barely touched, just as it had been for
the past two years. Even the bed was made. On a closer look, somebody
slept in the room after all: Alex and Rafe were on the carpet, hugging
each other so close it was had to tell where one body ended and the
other began. The boy's mother watched for a moment, wiped a tear, and
tiptoed out, closing the door after her.

Back in the kitchen, Alice was still nursing her tea, in pajamas
stamped with teddy bears, while Helga peeked in through the window.
The former got up as their host came back in, and moved to help with
dishes.

"Why, thank you, dear. I'll have breakfast done before you know it."

She fired up the stove, and Alice boggled. "You cook?"

"When I have the time. Don't you?"

"Ha ha, no way. I'm just handy with a fabber."

"To each his own," the older woman said graciously. "Say, dear, can I
ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What's the relationship between you and Helga?"

The she-bear tilted her head, but kept quiet.

"I don't know," mused Alice. "Never really thought about it. We're
basically sisters, I think. Right, sis?"

"Works for me, girl."

Their host fiddled with the content of a sizzling pan. "What about
Alex?"

Alice sipped more tea. "You mean whether we're just friends with
benefits, or in love, or serious about living together?"

"She means Rafe," Helga said quietly.

"What about us?" Alex walked into the kitchen yawning, his hair even
more of a mess than usual, if that was possible. Rafe poked his head
in, but there was no more room.

"He does that every morning," said his mother. "The smell of warm food
wakes him right up."

"Good morning to you, too. Where's dad?"

"He went to the bank early to try and get ahold of a real
representative. Virtual intelligences are so unhelpful."

The young man grabbed a chair. "Why does he need to go there in person?
They don't take calls at your bank?"

"I... didn't think about that." She set a plate in front her son and
started filling it. "But you know your father."

Her comm rang.

"Seriously?" she said, and rubbed her pendant in a complex motion.
The wall opposite the cooking range lit up.

"Mrs. Hunter?" asked the person on the screen, an androgynous face and
voice. "This is Venars General. Your husband has been pulled from the
river half an hour ago. He was under the influence."

----

"He'll be fine," the holographic figure told them -- the same who had
spoken to them on the comm, and in the same impassible tone of voice.
"You can take Mr. Hunter home as soon as the doctor is finished."

"I want to see him right now," stressed Mrs. Hunter.

"That would be against the rules, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"Can we at least know who rescued Mr. Hunter?" interrupted Alice.
"We'd like to say thanks."

"That would be Officer Mizuno over there." The receptionist indicated
an otter Integrate wearing bell-shaped shorts and a vest of many
pockets over a swimming suit. Glowing lines underscored her athletic
body where clothing or fur didn't cover them. Trying to guess at her
age would have been a fool's errand.

"Vicky, please," the woman said, approaching. "I'm not even on duty."

Alex stopped his mother from falling to her knees. "Thank you," she
said, then tears choked her.

"How did it happen?" asked Rafe.

The otter sighed. "He apparently fell off Big Bridge through a hole in
the handrail. Do you know if he has a drinking habit?"

"He used to..." said Alex.

"He started again after you left," his mother explained. "Thought he
could hide it from me, too."

"Is it possible he tried to commit suicide?" asked the policewoman.
"Sorry... this must be hard for you. Old habit. We can talk later."

"No... it's all right." She steeled herself. "My George would never do
that."

"Why do you ask?" intervened Rafe.

Mizuno hesitated. "I don't want to alarm you, but there's been a wave
of suicides among farmers in the region as of late."

"Financial reasons?" asked Helga. The officer nodded.

"Mom," Alex asked quietly, "is there something you're not telling me?"

She didn't have time to answer. The doors leading further in from the
hospital lobby opened, admitting someone in a wheelchair and escorted
by nurses.

"Right," said Mizuno. "We'll keep in touch." But by then nobody had
eyes for her anymore. She extended a hand, making a sporty bag leap
onto her shoulder from three meters away, and walked out.

The whole family gathered on a bench in front of the building, among
waist-high rose bushes. The air was cooler than the previous day, and
clouds were gathering, graying out the sky.

"I'm telling you I was pushed!" the man repeated for the second time.

"Dad, we have footage from the security cameras. Nobody was with you."

Hunter senior retreated into a morose silence.

"Did you run into someone at the bank, George?"

He nodded. "Papa Janiczek. They wouldn't refinance his loan either, so
we went for a drink. But there was someone... someone else. Sah, are
you sure we have no other options?"

"I went over the books three times since you last asked me. We're
bankrupt, George."

He started crying, and she wrapped his shoulders in a hug. After a
moment, Alex joined in.

"Dad, who cares? It's just a piece of land."

"How can you say that, son? I left the army when your mother was
pregnant. Bought this farm so I'll have something to leave you when
you grew up. But then you never returned home. What am I supposed to
do with my life now?"

A chilly wind was the only answer that fit.

"Let's go home. You and mom can ride with Helga, she's got more room."

"That will be the day, when I need a RIDE to carry me!" the older man
said rudely, slapping his son's hand away. "What am I, a cripple?"

He tried to get up.

He failed.

"OK..." he puffed. "OK... just this once."

----

The sky was a slab of cement above the city, and the old oak tree was
shedding its last leaves. Alex sat with his back against the rough
bark, throwing pebbles into the ditch. The tractors couldn't be seen
that day, but a low rumble reached him through the hazy air. Farm work
had to go on. Off to a side, Rafe lay on the ground in a tight ball.

"Rafe, come on. What's wrong?"

"Your father thinks I'm making you weak."

"Well he's wrong! I'm making you strong. That's the point. It's why
you wanted me in the first place."

"It was selfish of me. I see that now."

"No, it was selfish of him to think of me as yet another achievement
to be proud of, and nothing more."

"That's why you've been working so damned hard as of late? To prove
him wrong?" The she-bear gently lowered herself to the ground next to
the young man, and he startled, having failed to notice the hum of
lifters.

"I work because I have a purpose," Alex said stubbornly. "That's what
Rafe gave me."

"But you're destroying yourself. Who will be left to do your work if
you fall apart?"

He didn't answer.

"Anyway," resumed the she-bear, "we've been reviewing the public
records of small farms in the region."

"Found anything?"

"I could swear there's some sort of pattern, but it's just out of
reach. I'm not Kevin."

Thinking of the misanthropic RIDE who had taken so long to find
himself a human made Alex snort. Even for a walking quantum
supercomputer, the cat was exceptionally good at crunching numbers.

"Yeah, too bad he's not here. Oh wait, that's our fault."

The she-bear chuckled. "Right. Well, I was thinking. You should go
talk to the friend your father mentioned. Maybe he knows more."

"Papa Janiczek? Yeah, good idea. What do you say, Rafe? Feel up for a
visit?"

"Being social would be a nice change of pace," said the RIDE getting
up. He stretched from nose to tailtip before changing into his skimmer
bike form. "But you do realize there's probably nothing. We're just
acting paranoid."

"Be careful anyway," the she-bear called as man and wolf rode into the
haze.

----

The two men sat on overturned crates, under a colorless awning that
protected them from scattered raindrops. The mobile home next to them
hadn't flown in years by the looks of it, and judging by what could
be seen through the open door it served as a field office. Alex's host
was a short man with a fierce mustache, blue eyes shining in the
middle of a face covered in wrinkles. He poured two glasses of a
yellowish liquid and raised his before drinking.

"Aah! It's good to see you again, Alex. Where have you been as of late?
Seeking your fortune in the big city?"

"Gondwana, actually. It's a long story." Alex sipped gingerly from his
own glass and made a face.

"That would explain your new friend." Janiczek nodded to Rafe with a
smile. "Good call. RIDEs saved everyone's bacon during the Fright."

"Indeed?" Rafe asked politely. He sat on his haunches next to Alex,
ears swiveling at the sounds of nature around them.

"Sure thing! When Inties tried to take over. Can't trust them, I say."

"I didn't know the war made it all the way here." The RIDE eyed his
human partner curiously.

"You were in the garage after the big battle. I... hid the memory.
Didn't want you to think I was forced to choose."

In the ensuing silence, the old man took another sip. "So, what brings
you around, Alex?"

The young man told him the whole story.

"So you really are bankrupt," said Janiczek. "That's too bad, I was
about to propose your father we form a cooperative."

Alex nodded. "What did you two talk about at the bar?"

"Eh. George thinks there's a big conspiracy to kill farming in Venars."

"Is there?" asked Rafe.

"Ha ha, no. Business is just bad. Immigration from Earth has slowed
down to a trickle, the Spacers are learning to make their own food...
There's just no room to grow anymore."

"What will you do?" Alex drank more of his glass. It still tasted
horrible, but the feeling of warmth was welcome.

His host shrugged. "Weather it out. Wouldn't be the first time. I've
had this land since before your parents came to town."

They listened to the rain for a while, staring into their drinks.
Scattered strands of smalltalk soon withered. At some point, Alex
found his glass empty.

"More?" asked Janiczek.

"No, thank you, sir. I should go back. Thanks for having me."

"You're always welcome. Give my regards to your parents."

They were well out of sight and earshot, skipping lightly above the
muddy ground, when Rafe slowed down without warning, coming to a stop
in mid-air under the shoulder of a mound.

"Have you noticed something strange?" he asked, a miniature of his
face looking up from the dashboard.

Alex tilted his head in a very canine manner. "What do you mean?"

"None of his machines were out in the field today. What was he doing
there, all alone?"

"Now who's being paranoid?" Alex laughed at Rafe's pouty face. "I'm
teasing you. Can't hurt to go back and ask a few more questions. But
briefly, all right? I wanna get home and see how dad is doing."

The young man was still wondering how to bring up the issue when they
got in view of the trailer again. The first thing he noticed was the
intruding skimmer, a dirty four-seater with the traffic beacon turned
off. Then there were the three men in black coveralls pushing Janiczek
around. It was too far to make out any words, even with wolf ears, but
that hardly mattered.

"Suit up, Rafe, we have work to do."

The wolf came in too fast for anyone to react, charging through the
mud. He slammed into the first attacker hard enough to send him
tumbling. The second one he lifted above his head with one hand, then
let him drop to the ground; the man might as well have fallen off the
roof of a house. Yet a third backpedaled in a hurry, pointing a gun
at the Fused pair. The wolf snarled and flashed his shields. When he
took a step forward, his opponent turned and jumped into the incoming
skimmer. The goon at the controls drove straight at the three meter
tall warrior, forcing him to dive for safety. By the time he could
regain balance, the vehicle was flying away with its four occupants.

The old man was too shaken to resist when the wolf carried him home.

----

"And that's pretty much it," Alex concluded. "I haven't commed the
police yet. He asked me not to."

The living room of his parents' house felt warm, but crowded. Odd how
he didn't feel like it was his house as well. Not anymore.

"But what could those people want from him?" ventured Alex's mother.

"Money," stated Helga. "He must have borrowed from mobsters when the
bank wouldn't credit him anymore."

The older woman covered her mouth with a hand. "George, tell me you
didn't do something of the sort."

"Of course not, Sah. You know me better than that."

Alice sighed. "I just wish we could help."

"Maybe we can," said Alex. He bit his lip. "Dad, he's your friend.
Talk to him, please. He needs to get the law involved."

Hunter senior pondered. "All right. Help me up. I'll comm from my
office."

They sat and fidgeted while they waited, Alex petting Rafe's head in
his lap while his mother idly moved some knick-knacks between shelves
and Alice leaned on his shoulder. In the middle of the room, Helga
seemingly did her best to pass for a carpet. Rain rapped intermitently
on the windows, as gusts of wind came and went; the smell of moisture
drifted through the air like a ghost.

It didn't last long. The door opened brusquely, Hunter senior keeping
himself upright against the frame. "I got his daughter. Papa Janiczek
tried to kill himself."

----

The women of the house went over to the Janiczeks as soon as the
police was done asking questions. With the old man in intensive care,
they knew better than to leave his daughter alone. Awkward silence
filled the empty space in the living room as Hunter senior fished for
old music on the local mesh, coming up with forgotten albums from the
storage of some unlikely device nobody had bothered to unplug after
becoming useless years ago. Alex changed his place a few times only to
end up on the floor, holding Rafe. His father pretended not to notice.
After a while, the older man got up to fetch a bottle of wine from the
kitchen -- made in a vineyard and aged naturally, he made clear -- and
they drank it while playing ancient videogames from the Steader
Archive, complete with replica controllers.

It didn't stop raining until dawn.

Late morning found the family at a run-down pizza parlor downtown,
where creepy animatronics were putting on an equally creepy show on
the stage, acting eerily smart on occasion. Judging by the reactions
of most patrons, the decrepit ambience was part of the show. Besides,
the food and serving were perfectly fine, Alex had to admit. There
was even enough room at the table for him and Alice to eat while Fused
with their RIDEs -- hardly an unusual sight even in Venars.

"So..." the wolf cleared his throat. "Mom, dad, we've been thinking..."

He looked at his silent parents on either side of the table before
going on. "We make good money, and don't spend much. Why don't we buy
the farm from you?"

"You mean you and Alice, son?"

"I mean me and Rafe, dad. Well, you can buy in too if you want, Alice."

Hunter senior frowned, clamping his mouth shut.

"George, I think that's a great idea." The older woman looked
pointedly at her husband across the table. "He's our son. It was
supposed to be his in the first place."

She placed her hand on the wolf's arm, feeling the artificial muscles
under the fur. Yes, this was her son now, she told herself. Two people
for the price of one. Not less, but more.

"I wouldn't mind owning shares," said the she-bear in Helga's voice.
"I'm a land survey and disaster response model. Owning land should be
my thing."

"Will that make you visit more often, dear?" Mrs. Hunter asked her.

The she-bear nodded curtly. "We'd love to."

Across the table from her, the wolf finished his large glass of soda.
"No alcohol for me today" had been his exact words to the waiter. He
could see the fake animatronic staring at them unsettingly with its
one eye. It had been a minor surprise to notice that the vaguely
pirate-y character was in fact an Integrate actor projecting a suit,
the servomechanisms exposed through missing patches of fur being just
hardlight. Then the waiter vanished into the kitchen, but the
sensation of being watched did not.

----

It was high noon, or what passed for it in late October, and from the
middle of the Sky Bridge they could see the entire city, an anthill
drawn with straightline and compass, its traffic -- its lifeblood --
flowing incessantly around and around. There was little sign of the
recent struggles, apart maybe from the ruined manufacturing plants off
the south side, the letters A.C.E. still visible atop the highest
tower. Any other damage had been long covered by rapid construction.

"Well," said Alex.

Alice eyed him with amusement. "Well what?"

"I guess this wasn't the visit you expected."

"Maybe. But this is really about you, isn't it."

Alex nodded. "Can you believe I spent my entire childhood down
there? Thinking it was the world. And now it's just an insignificant
backwater."

She took his arm and leaned against his shoulder. "It can still be
your backwater, if you want it."

"That's the problem. I don't know anymore."

"You don't have to decide right now. Come on, let's have fun. I
spotted an arcade on the way up here."

He smiled at her. "OK. Let me just call mom and tell her we'll be
late."

"Odd..." he said after a moment. "Her comm is offline. Dad's, too."

"Guess they want a little privacy right now? Just like we do?"

"I should still be able to text them. They're gone from the mesh."

"Let's swing by your place real quick," suggested Helga. "If all is
well, we're wasting a few minutes. Big deal."

The door to the house was unlocked. Wide open, in fact, and it soon
became obvious that nobody was at home.

"Maybe they're over at the Janiczeks?" offered Alex.

"I commed while you were looking in the back," Alice told him. "No
dice. But Sylvie says someone broke into their barn a few minutes ago.
She's been too scared to go check."

"Mmm. Dad's workstation is unlocked too. This is no coincidence."

"Should I go to her?"

Alex rubbed his chin. "No, stay. Someone should be here for the
police."

"What about you?"

"We're going to check out that barn. I know where it is." Alex patted
Rafe's back.

"Alex, we don't know what's going on."

"We'll be careful," answered Rafe instead. "I know my limits."

"Perhaps," she said once they were out of earshot. "But do you know
those of a human being?"

The barn wasn't far from where they had visited with the old man a day
before: a long two-story building with skimmer loading bays at both
levels and a ramp for tractors at the far end. The wolf slid out from
among the trees, not that they provided much cover at this time of
the year, and made a bee line for the main doors; there were no
windows on the short side of the building. There was no lock on the
door anymore, either, and it slid open with little noise. Gloom
reigned inside, clinging to the rough walls, and a chill draft blew
along the central corridor. Hundreds of bags filled with corn ears
piled up, unsold, in storage rooms on either side. Another set of
doors at the far end couldn't muffle the voices and heat signatures
of half a dozen people in the next room.

The wolf shoved them open.

Alex's parents were there all right, sitting in a corner with two guns
pointed at them. There were two more thugs apart from the gunmen,
watching the windows for any sign of movement. The wolf reflexively
checked the network signal. It was jammed. Of course.

"Don't lift a finger," spat one of them, "or we plug them."

"And void your insurance policy?" asked the wolf.

The man laughed. "What are you going to do? You're no killer."

"Oh, you'll survive... probably. But I'll make sure you serve your
sentence in Alpha Camp."

He said that in a voice much calmer than either of his halves felt,
and noticed the gunmen hesitate.

"We don't want any trouble," offered one of them. "Just to make sure
nobody squeals before we skip town."

"And figure out what you told the cops," added the other.

"Perhaps recoup some of our losses, too," came a new voice from the
shadows. "A RIDE would do nicely."

The wolf could have sworn the man in front of him hadn't been on his
sensors a moment before. He had a cheap suit on, that clashed with
his fur, triangular ears and bushy tail painting him as some sort of
canid. Round lenses on his forehead and the back of his hands glowed
dimly: an Integrate.

"Kindly de-Fuse," he ordered calmly.

Outwardly, the wolf stood his ground. Beneath the metal, a freezing
storm howled. From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother cover her
mouth with one hand. The gunmen seemed more preoccupied with keeping
the older couple from intervening. He made a decision.

"I'm not giving up my human so easily. Worked too hard to acquire this
one."

The Integrate grinned. "So that's how it is. And what will your human
say if I ventilate his parents?"

"What makes you think ''I'' care?" asked the wolf in a voice that seemed
to come from the darkness of a forest at night. A kernel of light was
growing in the cup of his right hand.

"Very well. Shoot t..."

The energy pulse struck the Integrate squarely in the chest, and sent
him staggering. Then the wolf was at his throat, the furred fighters
grasping and pummeling each other. The Integrate was smaller, if still
bigger than any human, his partially synthetic muscles more tightly
packed. Every one of his blows made metal crunch.

"Your armor is weak," he grinned.

"You don't have any," retorted the wolf, wrestling him to the ground.
His massive fist raised, then dropped, and the Integrate doubled over.
For a moment he seemed beaten, then a shockwave blasted outwards from
his body, throwing the wolf off his feet and across the floor. In the
background, unnoticed, a massive shape floated silently down through
a hole in the ceiling.

"What are you waiting for?" the Integrate snapped at his gunmen.

Blue bolts of light sizzled through the air, and the weapons fell to
the floor along with their owners.

"You forgot to secure the loft," said the she-bear calmly, stepping
into the light.

Silvery-red blood trickled down from the corner of the Integrate's
mouth as he got up. His other two accomplices were already gone.
"This day keeps getting better," he said, hands starting to glow.
His pulse bolts shattered on the she-bear's shields.

"The smart move would be to run," she added. "We don't even know you."

"You know too much," he replied, before firing again. "And you owe me
for the ruined operation."

The she-bear angled her shields to deflect. One of the bolts hit the
wall dangerously close to Alex's parents, blowing chunks out of it,
and she closed in to her opponent, defenses visibly weakening with
every impact she had to absorb. Yet she pressed on, and he backed into
a column then tried to dart past her only to be caught in a bear hug
from behind.

"Integrates have to train their powers," she pointed out smugly.
"RIDEs simply get upgrades."

"Who says I haven't trained?" he retorted, twisting into the arm lock
until his palms pointed upwards. The twin pulse rounds narrowly missed
his own ears, but burned into the she-bear's face, and she screamed,
stumbling backwards.

"Alice! No!" shouted the wolf. He tried to stand up and couldn't.
Bright bolts streaked from his outstretched hands, one after another,
but the Integrate easily dodged most of them, the rest bouncing off
his own shields.

"Missed me!" he smirked, right before half the ceiling collapsed on
top of him.

----

Morning sunlight snuck quietly into every corner of the bedroom. Alex
found himself awake among twisted sheets, wondering why he was alone.
The carpets were soft and warm under his naked feet as he followed the
sounds of the house to the living room. Rafe was there, on the back
porch, talking to the young man's father over the morning tea, but he
couldn't hear what they were saying.

He moved on.

At least the kitchen looked just like three days before, complete with
the smell of warm breakfast. He made sure to hug his mother and Alice
before leaning outside to pet Helga.

"Hey, girl," he said softly, "you're looking great."

She licked his face. "They do good work at that garage you recommended.
Almost as good as Paul and Lili back home."

"What a name though," said Alice. "La Wrench of Paris? Really?"

"That's Venars for you," he answered, sitting down to a full plate.
"Any news?"

"Actually, yes." His mother nodded. "They called from the hospital.
Papa Janiczek is awake. He insisted to thank you for saving him."

"After all the damage I did?"

"He said not to worry, the barn was too old anyway."

"Sounds like him all right." Alex set down the fork to pour himself a
glass of apple juice. "I just wish we could have done more."

"You can't shoot an economic downturn in the face," Alice quipped. She
walked around the table to give him a hug. "Aw, darling, don't be so
glum. You did well back there."

"There are always more sharks in the sea." He kissed her in return.

The sound of steps in the hallway preceded Alex's father squeezing in.

"Good morning, son. Any plans for today?"

"Morning, dad. I guess we'll head to the mall or something? Between
the police investigation and all the paperwork, we're stuck in town
until Halloween anyway."

"I'm glad you are. Me and your mother have missed you."

"Yeah. I missed you too, dad."

The autumn day was more beautiful than it had any right to. Someone
had even fixed the hole in the handrail on Big Bridge, and... was
there a large furry shape snaking its way through the river's murky
water?

"Say, Rafe?"

"Yes, Alex?"

"What did you and dad talk about?"

"The Army."

"I thought you didn't care about that stuff."

"It's in my blueprints. I can't help but wonder what might have been."

"A very different story," the young man answered, passing his fingers
through the wolf's fur as they walked on.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 2015-12-07}}

{{series bar
|series=Alpha Camp
|previous=[[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]]}}

User:Claude LeChat/Dragon's Wish

2016-01-30T15:10:04Z

Claude LeChat: Created

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Fantasy]] [[Category:Dragon]]

{{title
|name=Dragon's Wish
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://www.furaffinity.net/view/15552247/ from FurAffinity]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

{{dropcap|T}}he egg stood there one morning, among dirty tents and piles of trash, on the burnt ground within a circle of stones. It was as tall as a grown man, and suitably wide, its smooth jade-like surface criss-crossed by meandering veins of gold that swirled into ever more intricate patterns, smaller than the eye could see. High above, the tops of fir trees swayed in the wind, but under the forest canopy the air was still and almost warm.

Presently a man emerged from a half-collapsed tent on the edge of the clearing, wearing only a loincloth and a layer of grime. He stretched, knotted muscles coiling like snakes around arms as thick as an elephant's trunk, and walked groggily towards the boulder that stood watch off to a side, where a footpath started downwards among giant roots. Someone was sleeping there, bundled in a fur, and he prodded the prone shape with an impatient foot.

"Get up, you green brute. You were supposed to wake me at dawn."

The orc snarled, showing big yellow teeth made to crunch bone. "So? The sun's not up yet." She wobbled to her feet and faced him, taller yet more lithe than the human, scarcely more clothes on her scarred body.

"Cranon's gonna be pissed," he said. "We're not that safe here."

"Cranon can kiss my hairy green ass," she countered, pushing past him to trundle towards the river that gurgled nearby. "And would it kill you to take a bath?"

She found him again in the middle of the clearing, hands on his hips as he stared at the egg, mouth agape. It seemed to come alive in the growing light, golden ridges acquiring a depth previously unseen. The orc made a warding sign before approaching, fingers on the curved dagger at her hip.

"What in Gurdun's Heaven is that?" she asked.

"You tell me. You were on watch since midnight."

She looked hesitantly towards the largest tent in the semicircle behind them.

"Don't bother," said the man. "Cranon is missing. Besides, no mortal power could have carried this through the hills without waking us all."

"You think the King's mages caught up with us?" The orc took a few steps around the egg, tilting her head like a cat.

"Looks rather too fancy for a magical trap." He didn't sound entirely convinced.

"It's a dragon's egg." The teenager crawling out of another tent was dressed in tattered grey robes, blonde hair stringy from neglect, his naked wrists and ankles still carrying the trace of shackles. "They say it can grant wishes."

The man quirked his eyebrows at the orc. "What was he doing in your tent last night?"

"Why, you wanted to borrow him?"

The teenager blushed hot red, freckled cheeks catching fire.

"Ha ha ha! Don't mind her, boy. Come here. What else do they say about dragon eggs?"

"Many things. Crazy things." The teenager's voice dwindled to a whisper as he eyed Cranon's empty tent. "They say... But no, that's impossible."

The man dismissed his worries with a handwave. "So... This thing grants wishes? What do you wish for, Green?"

"Wishes come at a price." She looked him in the eye long and hard before averting her gaze. "Wish I could take back the things I did. To not be an outlaw anymore. And you?"

He grinned. "I'd settle for being too rich for the King's men to touch me. How much do you suppose dragon eggs sell for? ... Har har! What about you, boy? Any wishes?" He wrapped a huge arm around the teenager's shoulders and squeezed hard enough to make him wince.

The teenager lowered his eyes. "O-only to go home, sir."

"If wishes were fishes..." The orc sighed. "Where's Cranon, anyway?"

"Maybe he left early to fetch the others," the teenager offered. "They'll have loot to carry if... You know."

"Without a weapon? Or even his canteen?"

"Who knows why Cranon does anything?" pointed out the orc. "He never told us how he chose this place, or at least how he knew about it."

"You'd be shorter by a head if it wasn't for him," the man reminded her.

"I know. I'm not ungrateful. It's just... Like he wasn't even fully human sometimes."

"He had me decipher an old map for him," explained the teenager. "The glyphs on it matched those pillars we kept running across in the woods."

"What glyphs?" asked the orc, suddenly interested.

The teenager shrugged. "Just some Draconic names."

A faraway shriek cut off the next question. The treetops were in sunlight by now, unseen birds singing like there was no tomorrow, and a pair of shapes danced in the eastern sky, gliding on brilliant wings.

"By Gurdun," said the man, "Tell me those are white eagles."

Without a word, the orc went to retrieve her spear. She left it planted in the ground while she recovered a few things from her tent and proceeded to strap them on. The teenager fearfully eyed the glistening bronze tip splattered with dried blood. He shivered: the wind had grown stronger, reaching down through the trees with fingers of cold.

"You're planning to fight a dragon with pointy sticks?" he asked.

"I'm planning to run away as fast as I can," she retorted, completing a bundle which she shouldered. The man followed her example and returned briefly with an ax in his hand and a shield on his back; he owned little else besides.

"What about Cranon?" the teenager insisted, but he bent down to collect whatever he could.

The orc grinned. "Somehow, squirt, I don't think he's coming back." She surveyed the doomed camp once more, and the egg caught her eye. The first rays of the sun shone down on it at last to reveal a pulsing shadow in its translucent depths, now resembling a human fetus, now a coiled serpent wrapped in leathery wings. All of a sudden, the flying shapes were much closer than they'd seemed. Too close.

"And sometimes you pay the price without getting your wish..."

User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf With the Red Cap

2016-01-30T15:06:22Z

Claude LeChat: Created

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:Fantasy]] [[Category:Human]] [[Category:Wolf]]

{{title
|name=The Wolf With the Red Cap
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://www.furaffinity.net/view/15805637/ from FurAffinity]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

The young man was a lick of flame dancing on the forest path as he hurried along in his crimson cloak, hood pulled over the eyes. His feet pounding the ground were the only noise among the trees save for distant birds calling each other. Sunlight poured through the immobile foliage overhead in glittering beams of gold that had insects spinning round and round, drunk with summer. It was so hot, the air felt thick and heavy even under the green canopy. Served him well, the young man thought, for hitting the road in the early afternoon, but he'd finished his chores early and wouldn't wait a moment longer. It was that day of the year for him, the day nothing could keep him in the village.

That thought gave him pause, and he slowed down, looking around nervously. Once the forest had been his best friend, but now it always seemed threatening to him, ever since the one time in his childhood. The one time he'd disobeyed his mother. He was close to the same place actually, where the trail climbed the shoulder of a hill, bending around a rock twice as tall as he was.

He never saw the wolf waiting for him until they were face to face, a snarling monster with yellow eyes straight out of forgotten nightmares.

"All alone in the forest, Red Cap?" asked the wolf. "Staying on the road is no defense, you know. That's where the wolves know to lie in ambush."

The animal's voice was the hoarse growl of a creature that by rights shouldn't have been able to speak. Through the haze of fear that drowned his mind, the young man slowly realized it was a female... and famished.

"A couple of small rabbits was all I could catch in a week," she continued. "Humans have been overhunting again. Do you know anything about it?"

"Ah... Our crops have been bad this spring. Please!" he blurted out in a panic.

That just seemed to make her angrier. "You destroyed our best hunting grounds and it's still not enough for you? Wasteful creatures. Maybe I should just eat your well-fed belly."

His own voice gained a hysterical edge. "You know what happened to the last wolf who tried that!"

"He was my father!" snapped the beast, and the young man barely had the time to lift his arm before her fangs sunk into his flesh. He yelled in pain and confusion as they fell on top of each other, and swung weakly at the wolf's head with his free arm. She let go only to tear at his flesh again, and he kicked the air, trying in vain to get away, to reach his pocket knife, anything. He was all bloodied now, those fangs ever closer to his throat, and he curled into a ball, smelling the wolf's foul breath...

Then he shoved with both legs on pure instinct, and the animal tumbled down the hill. There was a metallic snap... a howl of pain... silence.

It was a while before the young man could get up on his knees and elbows. He looked down the slope with apprehension; it wasn't so steep, but the stones and bushes covering it made for a treacherous descent. Down below lay the she-wolf, unmoving, and he entertained the notion of returning home with a trophy.

His injuries were starting to hurt by the time he reached the bottom, but that was nothing compared to the state in which he found the animal. She was still alive, half-closed eyes unable to focus, cuts and bruises all over her body. Worse, one of her hind legs was caught in a bear trap, while the other was tangled in the chain. Neither looked good.

Killing a defenseless creature was not in his power.

The she-wolf moaned and stirred as the young man examined the trap. He tensed, ready to run, but nothing else happened while he worked the steel jaws with a branch. He cast the cruel device aside and wiped his brow, leaving a red smear across it. Now what? She was too heavy for him to carry very far, and she would have tried to kill him again the moment she woke up. But if he left her there... No. It was her problem now. He'd done all he could already.

The young man ran away through the forest, chased by a cold wind that rolled dark clouds across the sky.

The sky was black by the time he made it to grandmother's house -- he still thought of it as grandma's, after all those years. He fetched water from the nearby stream and set to tending his wounds, as best he could with one hand at a time. It had been a good idea to bring his bag along. At one point he went into the house to find a bowl. When he returned outside, he almost dropped it: the she-wolf was there, on the edge of the clearing, her breath a low, labored whine. "Help me... I'm so sorry..."

He just stood there, frozen. She had crawled the entire way, that much was clear, leaving a trail of blood, but her teeth were no less sharp than an hour before. "How can I trust you?"

"I wasn't thinking earlier. I need you." She rolled over, exposing her throat, and at last he came forward. The she-wolf twitched a few times while he cleaned and bound her wounded leg then applied a poultice to the other, but otherwise endured stoically. At one point, she even laughed softly.

"What's so funny?"

"You're doing a woman's work," she said.

"Well, yes. My mother didn't have any daughters. She had to pass on the trade to someone, and I was the runt of the litter."

The she-wolf snorted. "So was I."

Heavy raindrops were falling by the time he finished, and the drums of thunder were right overhead, deafening them. He didn't think twice about helping her inside.

They shared a meal of smoked meat, boiled with herbs to soften it a little, while the rain threatened to bring the roof down on their heads. It leaked in places, and no matter how they moved around, it seemed they always ended up close together. At long last it was time to sleep, and to the young man's amusement, the she-wolf snuck into bed with him. He welcomed the company; the storm outside could strike fear into any man's heart.

He woke up much later, in blessed silence, the small room bathed in moonlight. He stretched, guiding himself by the slow breath of his bedfellow. His fingers stroked not fur but soft, smooth skin. It was a young woman now in bed with him, wearing a wolf's skin for a cloak and little else.

"Wolves and humans are more alike than you think, Red Cap." Her sleepy whisper was music to his ears. "You'd know that if you didn't huddle in your village like frightened cubs."

He wanted to say something, but she turned and kissed him on the lips. "We have a law against killing people, you know. My father was insane. His packmates would have killed him anyway if your hunter hadn't."

"Would they accept me?" he asked.

She sighed. "Probably not. They hardly accept me anymore. Too weak. And your neighbors?"

"I don't know. They're set in their ways. But they don't have to know, do they?"

"Not until the children come, anyway," she grinned, and they hugged.

User:Claude LeChat

2016-01-30T15:02:05Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to original stories.

{{my stories}} [[Category:Author]]

== About me ==

I'm a recent furry, but lifelong speculative fiction reader, and now a writer too. (As a hobby, mind you.) However, I should probably warn you that I'm somewhat of an outsider to the TF community, drawn here by friends and a number of awesome stories.

== Contacting me ==

I can be most readily be found [http://www.furaffinity.net/user/claudecat/ on FurAffinity] or [http://claudelechat.tumblr.com/ on Tumblr]. Or you can e-mail me via Shifti (I think).

== My stories ==

=== Original ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Dragon's Wish|Dragon's Wish]]: a fantasy flash fiction;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf With the Red Cap|The Wolf With the Red Cap]]: a Rule 63 version of the famous story, with a bit of TF thrown in;
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Parole Planet|Parole Planet]]: a science fiction novelette about a young man stranded on a distant planet, among strangers with odd customs... that will slowly change him.

=== FreeRIDErs ===

* [[User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] (a stand-alone [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|FreeRIDErs]] story -- can be read on its own without knowing anything about the setting);
* [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] (a shorter sequel/epilogue of sorts to ''Alpha Camp'');
* [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]] (third story in the ''Alpha Camp'' series).

Feedback on my stories is welcome, but I ''will'' argue with you: I don't do things without a good reason.

=== FreeRIDErs humor ===

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Uplift? 
A: MPs come to work wearing pants.

Q: How do you know there's a formal occasion in Aloha? 
A: MPs come to work wearing ''something''.

Q: How do you know it's Casual Friday in Nextus? 
A: There must be some mistake. In Nextus they have Casual ''Monday''.

Why did the RIDE cross the road? Because the road was of the opposite sex.

== Favorites ==

(from Shifti)

* Pretty much anything from the aforementioned FreeRIDErs setting.
* [[User:Sturmovik/Extracted|Extracted]], and other stories from Sturmovik's [[United Federation of Alternate Worlds]] setting.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Destinies|Destinies]], an awesome sci-fi novel by the late Michael Bard, fairly hard SF until near the end. Reminiscent of A.E. Van Vogt and Arthur C. Clarke, except much better written.
* [[User:Michael_Bard/Diary_of_a_Centaur_in_a_Human's_World|Diary of a Centaur in a Human's World]], by the same author. Furry transformation done right for a change, with all the body horror it would normally involve.
* Joysweeper's [[501st]] and [[Femtroopers]], from the Xanadu series. Deep psychological TF fiction in an utterly surreal setting.
* [[Refamiliarization]], by Xodiac, another Xanadu story.

Category:Science fiction

2016-01-30T14:43:50Z

Claude LeChat: Added to genre listing.

[[Category:Stories by genre]]

Green Serpent 2nd version

2016-01-30T14:42:50Z

Claude LeChat: Added proper category tags.

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Dragon]]

The Tale of a 1894 to 1905 era British coal burning
steam ship with dragon-headed people aboard her

“ fiery eyes stillness of my serpent
It's not as dangerous without the Green Serpent “

Green Serpent ( unknown songwriter/singer )

TTOA1894

Once upon a time,long long ago there lived a society of
feral western dragons who yearned to be human.Since they lived
long before the homo sapiens came along,it was a bit of a quirk.

They had learned magic to reshape their bodies,to become
smaller,more slender,more like us. And like us that transformational
magic cost money to do the changes required to go from being a
four footed winged flame breather to becoming a biped perhaps
ninety nine times smaller in size and weight .

So that society had evolved over time to include the poorer
folk,who couldn't afford the transformational magics and went
about their feral dragon affairs.

There were the lower level of the in-betweens,who could just afford
the shrinking magics,that allowed them to get rid of all that feral dragon
mass and bulk,but not the anatomy.

There were the upper level of the in-betweens,who were just
wealthy enough to purchase the shrinking magic and enough of the
other kind so that at a distance you might be fooled into thinking they were
human. Get up close however and you'd notice the snouty reptilian
face or perhaps the spiky tail hidden under a skirt.

And then there were the rich dragons and the aristocrats,who had
achieved human perfection to the 99th degree.These folk lived happily on
the upper penthouse suites and wouldn't be caught dead around a feral
western.( not in public anyways )

Death however was the great leveller.For when a dragon,no matter what
his/her place was ,died,the transformational magics fell apart and they returned to
their natural feral western dragon shape.

However the rich folk could always arrange for a private burial service.

****************************************************************************************

It was the Age of Steam for this society,and their serpent headed
iron hulled dragon boats had boilers,coal bunkers and steam engines much
like what we homo sapiens possess.

Their ships had one magical-machine technology our scientists and
engineers still have to discover,the dragons-egg boiler,which required the
hot fiery breath of a feral western dragon to make it operate.

The dragons-egg produced a
gelatinous/watery liquid the society's wizards
and engineers called controlled water,for the simple reason it could be
held in place without need of embankments or retaining walls.

This allowed the dragon boats to travel on land and sea alike,
much like the hovercraft homo sapiens have invented.

Controlled water did have one troubling quality to it however.It
seemed to produce a sort of bottomless pool beneath its watery surface.
Thus any land-sea boat unlucky enough to sink in her own pool of controlled
water simply was not there anymore,but had sunk out of physical existence.

The Sea Serpente Hoare Fang was one such Controlled
Water dragon boat.

***********************************************************************

Frost Fang ,a feral,was burning off a months wages from his last
job on booze again.The pub was crowded with with his mates ,the Black Gang from the
SS Bernadika.His daughter Gertrude Fang had run away from home again and the
missus had driven Frost out of their cave with a series of healthy roaring curses,

So Mr Fang had gone to the Laidley Worm and Three Little
Pigs Tavern to inquire if
anyone knew where his daughter was.They didn't.Being polite honest
working ferals,they didn't want to suggest that perhaps Gertrude Fang
had turned to a life of prostitution or perhaps now lay senseless in a
snapdragon opium den.

The guys toasted another glass to the Lambton Worm,and then
turned to the matter of finding new employment .The Bernadika was in
dry dock for a refit of her dragons-egg's ,which were underpowered for the
shifting geography the land sailors had to overcome.

As we all know,a millenia earlier a asteroid had wiped out the dragons
kinfolk,the dinosaurs,and the oceans and lands were still in violent upheaval
from that cosmic collision.

It took a higher column of controlled water to flow onto the rougher surfaces,
and thus more powerful magic-machines had to be invented.

This was all fine by the ferals,who had retained the ability to
breath fire whilst the pig headed upper class had refused to release their
soft weak fingernail grip on their human forms.

Old habits die hard.

So Frost and the other guys were out of work for at least a half
year,perhaps longer,while their ship was refitted.

And in these turbulent economic times,travel was down,trade was
down and other coal stoking and flame breathing poor ferals
weren't going to give up their berths on the other land sailors for
Frost and his mates.

There were quiet whispers about the jinxed sea serpente,the
SS Hoare Fang.Rumour was the mothballed "Ghost Liner" was being
brought back into service.A half century earlier,this land sailor's designer,
had foreseen the continuing upheavals to land and sea,and had installed
state of the art dragons-egg boilers on his new liner.

Then Hoare Fang had impaled the Leviathon in a midships collision,
and after the bigger Hoare Fang had reversed her engines.the Leviathon
had capsized and sunk into her own bottomless pool of controlled water.

The Leviathon had left no trace.

But shortly after the tragedy,passengers aboard the Hoare Fang reported
slimy weed covered dead feral dragons,the crew and passengers of the
lost Leviathon,were somehow squeezing themselves through the portholes
on moonlit nights and bedding with the terrified rich folk.

The SS Hoare Fang had become a ship plagued by her
victims.The boat ruined the company operating her.After the bankruptcy
the jinx ship had been towed to a weedy patch of land ,her engines shut down
and she'd settled to the ground,apparently abandoned.

Times change.

****************************************************************************************

Gertrude Fang,a feral,stood on all fours outside Madam Peluda's
Cabaret.She had spent her entire young life around the ferals her mum and
dad hung out with,She'd never realized just how tiny were the buildings and
entrance ways of the in-betweens.

As a feral female,all Gertrude could expect as a adult was to lay eggs,hunt
and raise dragonets.Her society frowned upon women working in the big feral decks
of the dragon boats.

Not that Frost would have let his daughter join him in the
stinking coal dust clogged
and hot steamy bottom feral deck of a dragon boat.

She'd hoped to get a job as a waitress in one of the in-betweens
establishments,However that kind of shrinking magic was beyond a working
poor feral family's financial ability.

Rumour had it amongst the girls that if you were willing to sacrifice
your maidenhood and become a hooker,there were pimps in the in-between
red light district who could supply the gold or the magic you needed to get
into in-between society.

Briefly Gertrude considered making that choice,but when a
sleazy looking in-betweener approached her,she hastily backed away,
roaring

" No no no" as she charged off in a galloping gait out of the in-between
quarters.

*********************************************************

Frost had downed his glass of Boothe's Finest 68 and was
puffing on a fag,staring at the Laidley Worm's other patrons.
The cosmic collision a thousand years earlier had affected peoples
the dragons hadn't even been aware existed,

With all the upheavals overseas some of those landless
refugees had hitched rides on land sailor freighters back to
the dragon ports.

As usual,the government had fallen over backwards
to accommodate the Grimmsland folk,even though the government
could barely cope with the needs of its own native dragon citizens.

The Grimm's hadn't posed much of a threat to most of the
draconic job market,but if you were a merchant or a tavern keeper
watch out.The Laidley Worm's owner,a honest hard working
in-betweener named Meg,had been forced by the tough times
to take in three Grimms as co-partners.

The three pig brothers,who had added the signboard
“and the Three Little Pigs”,were busy serving to the
Laidley's new clientele,fellow Grimms.

Frost watched as one of the oinking little porkers
waddled up to one of the smaller tables,where a wolfish
fellow with a beat up hat sat drinking away his sorrows in
a shot glass of '68.

Most of the Grimm's wouldn't touch Boothe's
feral booze,but this Big Bad Wolf had come in a hour
ago wailing about his marriage breakdown with some
Grimm lass named Goldilocks.

The little pig oinked as he came to the wolf's table
and said

“ Say,do I know you from somewhere? “

*********************************************************

Maximillian Morgan,a upper level in-betweener ,had dragon
diabetes.

As we all know,the humanizing transformation magic the
dragons use ends upon death.However even the most potent
pure white powder that the rich folk use only lasts a month
before its effects wear off.

For a in-between like Max,the prescription employee
benefit plan offered by the Institute for Controlled Water Studies
allowed him to buy the three or ten day tri-paks at a decent
subsidized price.

However because he had dragon diabetes,the
humanizing transformative magics in his body tended to
either be too high or too low if he didn't keep track of his
levels.( too high or too low glucose-magic )

He'd had instances where he hadn't eaten enough before
a reversion,had a collapse in the magic,and awakened in his
natural feral form unable to lift so much as a talon.( hypoglycemia)

The reverse had also happened,where in feral form Max the
Controlled Water engineer-officer had eaten what he considered
to be a dainty meal.Then after taking the magic and shrinking
ninety nine times in both mass and volume,that 'dainty 'meal's
energy had kept him bouncing off the walls with excess zip
for days afterward.

After he'd taken another combined shot of insulin and
a Homopure 3 from his medicine chest,Max got ready for his
lecture to the students of Icey Woo ,as the Institute was
nicknamed by the faculty and students.

Todays class was about “What Lies Beneath the
Surface? “ and the labs would be giving the newbies a
chance to walk on the surface of Controlled Water and the
lucky few would (with safety harness on) take a dip below
the materials calm surface,and into another dimension.

**************************************************************

Sloan's son was making the deliveries in the West Side
of the In-between quarter.His dad,Sloan the feral tough guy
crime boss,wanted his son to learn some more about the
family business.

A business that included the distribution and sale of
nerve burning nine hour and three day unlicensed magic,as well as
a franchised chain of Diabolique Relicque speakeasies where
various walks of dragon society came to unwind and be a little
daring.

Many a feral dragoness,tired of the 24 hour cycle of
hunting,baby making and baby raising,made use of Sloans
product to become a in-between,and then show their wares
on a Diabolique stripper platform to the hoots and jeers of
the mostly male dragon crowd.

Though the odd Grimm crocodile ,pig or wolf visited
the dirty dens as well.

*************************************************************

Edward Morgan was the brother of Maximillian Morgan
During the day he was a manager for a troupe of vaudeville
dragons and dragoness's.

Due to his brothers diabetic condition,and the
practical economics aspects of keeping a troupe of
nine dragon entertainers supplied with humanizing magic,
Edward had self taught himself on how to manufacture
the magic .

He had a illegal crystal-magic laboratory in one of the
seedier parts of the feral quarter.He made small batches
of 9 hour and twenty four hour homopure.

On the feral streets he went by the name of Fast Eddy.

Fast Eddy didn't know Gertrude Fang,but he did know
her ex-boyfriend,Sloan's son.

***********************************************************

Robert L. Boothe,one third owner of the
beached land sailer passenger liner SS Hoare Fang,was having
a bad day.

Though he was rich enough ,through the sales of
Boothe's Finest 68,to buy the best in humanizing magic
he steadfastly refused to go all the way to achieving human
perfection,as most of his fellow dragons aspired to.

Instead the whiskey baron settled for the kind of magic the
upper class in-betweeners used.Thus Robert L.'s magnificent
human physique was jarred by the placement of a rather
snouty ,sharp toothed and fin eared dragons head on top of
that Adonis like body of his.

His two co-partners,Fafnir,King of the Southern Dragons

and Fu Manchu,the Dragon Emperor of the Eastern
Empire,looked with distaste upon Robert L. as he snarled
grunted and tore hungrily into a lamb burger some Grimm
named Mary Bo Peep sold out of a concession stand
sited in the Grimm squatters camp that had sprung up
around the Hoare Fang.

Robert L. was all for hiring some feral tough guys
to drive away the squatters,but Fu Manchu and Fafnir
had opposed the idea.

Even though the camp would be wiped out if the
Hoare Fang's dragons-egg boilers ever got warmed up,
the Grimm squatters did receive government refugee
cheques,and some of that money was flowing into Robert L.'s
business partner's bank accounts.

The Hoare Fang might be a gold mine in the
future,but the refugees were a more immediate source of
wealth.

*******************************************************

The land sailor herself might never be returned to
a serviceable condition.

The older land sailers had used flat bottoms,and when
they were shut down,lay upright on the ground.The Hoare Fang's
designer however had given his land sailer a deep V bottom in
order for her to better move about in a turbulent land and sea in
distant parts of the globe.

When the jinxed passenger liner had been quite literally
grounded decades earlier no one had thought she'd ever be
returned to service.No provision had been made to keep her
in a upright position when the dragons-egg's were shut down.

Hoare Fang lay on her side.It was anybodies guess whether
her natural buoyancy would raise her back upright when the

Controlled Water lake rose around her.

She might just lie there,Controlled Water pouring in her
hatchways and portholes,and she'd slip beneath the surface of
a bottomless Controlled Water lake.

What feral dragon coal stoker and flame breather
would want to be down in the lowest of the Hoare Fang's
lower decks,breathing fire on the dragons-egg's,just to
perish when the Hoare Fang vanished from the face of the Earth?

Robert L. Boothe mulled over that question.

*************************************************************

It was approaching evening when Frost Fang and the others
finally left the Laidley Worm and the Three Little Pigs.Frost
stood off in a corner and finished off his fag.

The rest of the Black Gang of the Bernadika,somewhat
more inebriated then their fellow feral,staggered off down the
street singing

“ what do you do with a drunken sailor,what do you do with
a drunken sailor,what do you do with a drunken sailor earrlie in the
morn-in?”

Whilst on the shoulder of one of the drunken dragons perched
a equally inebriated Big Bad Wolf,singing off key and out of sync

“Hie ho and up she rises.hie ho...”

The tavern's door opened and out came the three pig
brothers,happily oinking as they carried along a sack of gold,
silver and aluminum coins.

One of the porkers noticed Frost and waved a hoof at Frost
calling out “ Good Evening to you Mr Fang”

So Frost trundled back to the cave,expecting to get a
earful of angry roars from the missus about coming home
late again.

The cave was silent and dark,except for a muffled
sobbing off to one corner.Frost was alarmed and puzzled.
Normally the cave was awash with light,so that the missus's
collection of Grimm swords,shields and armoured suits ( which
she polished daily) could be presented in the best light.

What horrible horrid thing had happened?

Frost rushed on all fours to his wife,and asked her

'Gertrude?”

Mrs F. Fang nodded and pointed her snout towards the closed
iron door that led to their daughter Gertrude's private cavern.

Frost noticed the bright light leaking out along the bottom of
that iron door.

“magic “ the missus whispered in a hoarse
croak

“Damned human MAGIC” she got out a second time
with a bit more force and a better semblance of her
fiery dragoness nature.

Mr F. Fang approached the door with caution,and
said

“ Gertrude? Are you in there honey? “

In response he heard the scuffling soft pitter patter of
her feet.

Then silence.

“Gertrude,I'm coming in” said Frost,and then he pushed open
her cavern door.

She was nowhere in sight.Then remembering what his wife
had told him,the big feral dragon lowered his gaze to the height a
in-betweener might stand at.

There was no Gertrude,in-between or feral.

“ Asphodel,Beelzebub Ariel” Frost exclaimed in shock as
he caught sight of the tiny in-between girls clothing lying
in front of Gertrude's dressing mirror.

From behind her curtained closet he could hear her
frightened sobs,not quite as loud as they normally were.

********************************************************************

After Gertrude had accepted a philter of the magic that
the cagey dude named Fast Eddy had given her,a magic he told
her would only last for nine hours,the trial size,Gertrude Fang had
done a little shopping in the in-between womens clothing stores.

She still hadn't been certain if she would try the humanizing
magic on herself.Her dad certainly wouldn't approve.

She'd had to walk home,since she only held a beginners
license to use her feral wings out in less congested areas.

Her mom had been home,and Gertrude had mulled asking
her mom if she'd ever played at the in-between lifestyle.
However she hadn't, worked up the courage to ask that loaded
question
and when Mrs Fang said she'd be out for a
few hours babysitting the kids Gertrude's cousin Synthia had laid
and hatched last year,Gertrude made up her mind.

She was going to do it!

After her mom was out for the day Gertrude went into her
room ,snapped off the top of the glass philtre and downed the
white powder down her long snout and even longer throat.

Within a minute her bones ,skin,scales,teeth ,muscles
and blood were creaking,tearing,re-arranging and compressing as
the magic crunched a few tons of feral dragoness into a hundred
pounds or so of in-between.

It hurt like hell and Gertrude was too busy writhing in pain on
the stone floor to immediately appreciate her altered body.

Finally however the burnt nerve throbbing died away and
Gertrude marveled at the small growth of fur that had sprouted
from the top of her reptilian scalp.Next came the discovery of
the two lumps that hung from her still lengthy torso.

She slowly got up off the floor on all four legs and
immediately realized something was wrong.Her skeleton seemed
off somehow,somewhat off balance.

She of course had known during the transformation that
her wings had shrunk out of existence,her tail had stayed
a perfectly normal dragon's tail,and her horns and big boned
physique and muscle had melted away.

Yet something was still off that she hadn't cottoned
onto.She swung her still lengthy neck and looked and sniffed
away at her in-between body.

Her hind legs,and her pelvis.They were
not normal.Shaped like something a biped would have.
Gertrude slowly raised herself upright on her hind legs and
whistled in amazement as she lurched about like a duck learning to
walk.

She was a biped.

Would wonders never cease?

She began playing with her in-betweener girls clothing
and the hours flew by.

Mrs Fang had come in quietly.The altered smell coming out
of their home had alerted her to 'something'

So Gertrude was just opening a package containing
a weird piece of undergarment the sales lady had told her
she might need if she took the magic ( since Gertrude didn't
know what the magic would do to her physically she'd
overbought )She was trying out the BRA ( as the thing's
manufacturer called it ) on her tail <were the two foam cups
meant to protect two spikes on her tail ,how impractical a BRA
was>

“Ger-tie,what have you DONE to yourself”

roared a shocked Mrs Fang,whose wings flapped
spasmodically in sympathetic shock to what the missus's mind
was witnessing.

The gust of wind and hot sulfurous breath that Gertrude's
mom blasted into her daughter's room was followed seconds later
by a loud
“Boooooommmmm” as the heavy iron bedroom door
slammed shut.

Thus did Gertrude realize her dad would be even more
shocked and angry when he came home from the dock
district.

**************

Frost stared down at his now rather defenseless
looking daughter.He'd seen the homopure 0003 philtre lying
smashed near the BRA's box.

Being a streetwise fellow,he knew the magic would
wear off in a few hours time.So,when his frightened daughter
looked up, up and up at him,and said in a mousey squeak

“daddy?”

All Frost said was …

( Let the reader continue the tale )

Public Cel Animation license ( tentative and informal )

People are hereby
invited to do a heck of a lot more then just write in this
open story universe,but also to claim the above as
their own story,tear it apart,rewrite it,analyze it,add dialog to it,etc

As for why someone might want to write in this open story
universe and perhaps rebuild TTOA1894... ?
Because chunks of the story/universe already exist as
short animated clips and drawings and raw inventory
Hence anyone writing
in TTOA1894 could be rewarded some day by seeing their
piece of literature morph and grow into a animation complete
with music,voice acting,visuals or perhaps a RPG video game or
even a Top 40 hit on CHUM 1010.

Public Cel Animation Contacts

Larry Barron knot_disclosed ( at ) yahoo.com
He has about 800 Mb or so of the animations he
planned to run as a torrent

Me the Pioneer queenofprussia2006 ( at ) gmail.com
Pioneer has seriously limited bandwith.However if
folk just want a cel from a clip or one of the
.jpeg visuals of the Hoare Fang, Frost, Gertrude for
research/diddling about,send Pioneer a e-mail and
time permitting I'll send a pinup of Guitar Gertie
or whatever to the interested party

Sources of raw PCA inventory

clips and cels for Gertrude Fang ( Guitar Gertie )
exist in both in-between and feral form in
the archived files of Hoare Fang Rock
and the source Dragon Crypt.Pioneer has cels
of Gertrudes tattered framed photo on the mirror
in the passenger cabin of a sunken land sailer.

clips and cels for SS Hoare Fang as a sunken wreck,a moving
land sailor and various visuals exist in the archived files
Pioneer has visuals of a broken wreck,complete with
dark black cavernous holds showing through the rotted
deck plating.

Mr Frost Fang exists as a visual of a feral
heading down the street from the Laidley Worm and the
Three Little Pigs tavern.Pioneer has cels of Frost
bursting out of buildings ,roofs,etc

Robert L Boothe is a visual in Pioneers PCA collection.

Fast Eddie is the in-between in tha visual of Guitar Gerie
in the archived files.Her stripper version.

Controlled Water-View it as a upside down moving
bowl of jelly on top over which floats the land
sailing dragon boats.The archive has concept
drawings of a land sailing dragon boat.

The Wreck: a file in the PCA archives.That little 32 second
video assumed feral dragons used magics to reshape
themselves into human forms.Then disaster strikes
and having human shaped bodies becomes a
double edged sword for the dragon-headed people.
The archive has the silent video.Pioneer has the
32 cel series broken down into .jpeg format.

SS Bernadika: there should be a Youtube video of
SS Bernadika where a ship officer-cadet
shows some homo sapien guest the heavenly
upper decks of a dragon boat.In that video the
pilothouse is located in the head of the ships
serpent figurehead.Due to a R/L tornado,much
of the original paper drawings got turned into mouse
nests and soggy mush.

Gertrude Fang's Transformation:the archived files will contain
both the anthro-Gertrude >> feral-Gertrude tf clip
and a Cellular TF series.Enough to animate a clip
from feral dragoness >> in-betweener dragoness

feral westerns breathing fire and dragons-egg boilers
separate clip and visuals of the above items exist
in the archived files

“fiery eyes..stillness of my serpent” : Pioneer has the
cels and perhaps the Green Serpent signature
tune converted to a .wmv internet format

Talk:FreeRIDErs (setting)

2015-12-11T08:17:36Z

Claude LeChat: /* On the compilation of an eBook */

== Old Discussion on the Future of [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'']] and the Upcoming 'Earth-Zharus War' Story Arc Previously in Page Header ==

Are there any plans to let writers stray into the Earth-Zharus War scene? I've got a story idea or two that I'd love to set in that period, but I'm short on the context that Jon, RM and the others have in mind. That is, I don't really have any idea how you intend the war to play out. Although my idea wouldn't actually involve much in the actual frontlines/war, it would be good to have some idea of the kind of materiel and hardware and general strategy and social climate and the such, because nothing concrete seems to have actually been laid out so far for that period (or have I missed something?). Which is why I thought I'd ask your permission before getting started. If needed, I'd be more than pleased could draft out the general idea. Thanks in advance! --[[User:Wayward Coyote|Wayward Coyote]] ([[User talk:Wayward Coyote|talk]]) 18:05, 10 October 2012 (UTC)

:Thanks for your interest here, but there's a lot of ground to cover between the present and that future in the setting before we get there. We can't guarantee that anything you'd write taking place during that period would remain canon. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] ([[User talk:JonBuck|talk]]) 19:01, 10 October 2012 (UTC)

:Yeah, what Jon said. Our ideas for the war are very very nebulous at this point, more possibilities than anything else. There are things we don't even know quite yet about how we're going to end "Integration", let alone what comes ''between'' that and the war. Any number of things could change between now and then. So just be patient, or else think on how to adapt your ideas to the setting's "present". —[[User:Robotech Master|Robotech Master]] ([[User talk:Robotech Master|talk]]) 23:23, 10 October 2012 (UTC)

::Ah, I understand. I might just follow the main series for now and wait until it hits that time period; I'm quite keen to see where it's going anyway. Or maybe I'll see what I can do with some other ideas I have lying around. Either way, though, thank you for your replies! --[[User:Wayward Coyote|Wayward Coyote]] ([[User talk:Wayward Coyote|talk]]) 07:38, 14 October 2012 (UTC)

== Possiblity of FreeRIDErs Cross-Over Stories ==

'''''This discussion thread has been moved to [[Talk:Once More Into the Breach, My Friends…#Discussion on the 'Possibility of FreeRIDErs Cross-Over Stories'|Talk:Once More Into the Breach, My Friends…]].''''' 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) (Originally posted at 7:22 PM EST on November 4th, 2014 and last edited at approximately 5:34:30 PM EST on January 10th, 2015)
:There are still replies waiting to be read over there, though, so come on down!
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 14:09, 14 November 2014 (EST)

== Possibility of Stonegate Ancestry and Military Heritage? ==

I was wondering if I could possibly give the extended Stonegate family some ancestors, at least one of whom I'd like to use to set a precedent for Socah Gates's involvement in military affairs, starting with [[User:RandomDSdevel/Carter's Last Stand?|''Once More Into the Breach, My Friend…: Carter's Last Stand?'']]? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 17:41, 10 January 2015 (EST)
:If you're wondering why I asked, then it's because I thought it'd be kinda funny if [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Documentation/Carter Hawkinson|Carter Hawkinson]], the character who I made up to put in a data-based, copse-sicle–like situation, decided to visit Rhianna at the FreeRIDErs' Garage before attending one or more of the classes she teaches at Roberto Martinez Memorial University in Uplift to see if he'd like her as a teacher only to be interrupted mid-conversation by Charlene McClaren when she rushes in to tell Rhi about his resurrection and its relevance to her? Imagine the look at Charlene's face when she sees him standing there talking to Rhi, especially if she'd met him earlier before she knew about his significance!
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 19:46, 27 February 2015 (EST)
::You know, on second thought, maybe it would be better for Carter to wait until ''after'' Rhi gets back from Totalia to introduce himself to her? He could still hob-nob with Charlene, but it would probably be a good idea not to let Carter's resurrection cause too much of a stir.
::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 20:01, 21 May 2015 (EDT)
:::Wait a minute…: ''Rhianna'' (and I think maybe Ivy, too,) will have left, but…well, the ''rest'' of the Stonegate family is still going to be on Zharus. Hmmm…this could get interesting…
:::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 18:24, 13 November 2015 (EST)

== Pre-'Post–Oil-Age 'Dark Ages<nowiki>'</nowiki>' Political Situation? ==

What would you guys imagine the political situation just prior to the beginning of the post–Oil-Age 'Dark Ages' to be like? Or is it too early to dive into that yet? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 18:08, 14 January 2015 (EST)
:Are you guys still thinking about this?  — [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 14:37, 29 January 2015 (EST)
::It's kind of important to me that you guys work on helping me figure this out for my story [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Stories/Carter's Last Stand?|''Carter's Last Stand?'']], so please let me know if you've thought about this yet and how far along you are in formulating an answer. If you'd like my input on this, then please either respond here or tell me where, if at all, you've been discussing this so that I can join in.
::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 19:23, 27 February 2015 (EST)

:::As no stories have been written in this era there really hasn't been any need to into it in detail, nor are any planned for this era. This is the nature of writing fiction. If no detail is needed, no detail is written. I know what happened in broad strokes, but that's all I need. Look, calm down a bit, okay? My time is limited. And you're not exactly asking us nicely here. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] ([[User talk:JonBuck|talk]]) 21:11, 24 April 2015 (CDT)
::::I'm sorry we got off to such a bad start; that ''probably'' wasn't exactly the ''best'' way to ask that question, ''was'' it? Can you forgive me for being too eager to write my own story during the time period we're discussing? I didn't intend to sound like I wanted you to drop everything and dive into this; I was just afraid that you might get even ''more'' mad at me if I went out on a limb and did something timeline-breaking since I want my story to be canon, if you'll have it when it's finished. ''That's'' why I would ''greatly'' appreciate it if you could give me the few details you ''do'' have about the time just before the end of the Oil Age.
::::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 15:46, 25 April 2015 (EDT)

== On the Nature of Qubitite ==

What exactly is qubitite made out of? Is it some kind of [[en:Wikipedia:Photonic molecule|photonic molecular]] mesh prevented from dissipating by the presence of ordinary, baryonic matter inside? If so, then could it be synthesized in-universe and how difficult would doing so have to be in order to prevent the possibility of qubitite synthesis from being widely known by the time of the latest story in the current [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'']] chronology? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 19:19, 27 February 2015 (EST)

:This is something we have to leave intentionally vague. The setting is more inspired by anime than hard scifi. Suffice to say that synthetic qubitite will only be introduced when we're ready, and we're ''far'' from ready. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] ([[User talk:JonBuck|talk]]) 13:26, 13 April 2015 (CDT)
::Doggone it, I was going to have enough of it made available for some qubitite-based implants like the ones Jeannette Leroq has to make the reconstruction of a human being out of approximately–five-hundred-year-old records of that individual's DNA and brain state possible! Guess those involved in the project will just have to get some from a smuggler even though synthesizing the stuff would have made things a lot easier for my characters by allowing them to get around Zharus's export laws. About how far in the current chronology's future do you and the others intend to introduce synthetic Q, exactly, anyway? I was going to have somebody give a materials scientist whom he or she is friends with give him a hunk of rubidium salt or alloy that started sprouting weird blue specks on its surface after it had been lying around on a hard light surface for a while so that said materials scientist could study it and figure out exactly what it is. Obviously, tons of papers would likely come out of such efforts, but maybe their publication on Earth could be prevented or delayed by some small part of Earth's government that is actually knowledgeable and embracing of the truth behind what's going on on Zharus? And I was thinking that the procedures described by these papers would take months or even years to produce anywhere near a practical amount of qubitite so that they wouldn't really matter any more when they finally get declassified several years later because a much more efficient method of synthesizing Q had been discovered by then. My hope is that the significance and consequences of such a discovery would either turn out to be minimized in the grand scheme of things or forgotten about during the Earth-Zharus war. But I suppose the ability to synthesize qubitite would make Zharus's political situation a lot more tenuous, wouldn't it? So I guess now might not be the greatest time to let it factor into too many stories just yet.
::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 17:20, 13 April 2015 (EDT)

:::Longer term, we have plans for a war with Earth. The exact circumstances of which are still up in the air. So, have patience. :) --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] ([[User talk:JonBuck|talk]]) 23:29, 21 April 2015 (CDT)
::::Is this just between you, [[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]], and [[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]], or can anybody contribute some ideas to these plans? If so, then where would I go to do so?
::::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 17:20, 26 April 2015 (EDT)
:::::We have a number of things that have to happen ''before'' we get there. I can see how enthusiastic about this setting you are, but Major Plot Points like this are the purview of the three of us. Once again, you'll have to be patient. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] ([[User talk:JonBuck|talk]]) 21:07, 27 April 2015 (CDT)
::::::Roger, wilco. Guess I'll just have to rework this, then, won't I?
::::::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 17:20, 9 June 2015 (EDT)
:::::::Unless…hmm, what are the odds that a chunk of Zharus that got blasted off by the impact that created the Dry Ocean's huge supply of qubitite in the first place could make it the fifty light years to Earth by the time I need it there? I'm assuming 'next to none' on this front, though, so I'll probably just have some character smuggle some qubitite back to Earth instead.
:::::::—&thsinsp;[[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 18:49, 17 November 2015 (EST)

== On the State of This Setting's Documentation ==

Hey, I've noticed that, while you've got some great pieces of in-universe documentation and source text for [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'']], it could be expanded and complimented by some documentation from the point of view of our universe. Is it okay if I help you guys with that while I'm still in the early planning stages of my project [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Projects/Once More Into the Breach, My Friends…|''Once More Into the Breach, My Friends…'']]? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 19:51, 27 February 2015 (EST)
:In particular, I was wondering if, once I have enough programming experience, I could put some kind of calendar program tailored solving to this setting's interstellar date problems up on GitHub so that we can start decoupling the other planets' calendars from Zharus's.
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 20:05, 21 May 2015 (EDT)
::Actually, I suppose that's more like calendrical housekeeping, isn't it? I'll still do that when I get to it, but I think that what I originally meant by 'documentation' was the [[FreeRIDErs (Setting Timeline)|timeline]] and the [[FreeRIDErs (background material)|background materials]]. I suppose that's housekeeping, too, in a way, so maybe we should just lump it all together, rename this thread 'Housekeeping Discussion,' and call it a day?
::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 17:57, 9 June 2015 (EDT)

== On the compilation of an eBook ==

Hi all.
I am planning on embarking on a project of compiling and updating an eBook of the entirety of the FreeRIDErs universe. I expect this to be a reasonably large undertaking, and I would like the permission of as many of the authors involved before I begin. If you don't want your stories in the compilation, then I will be... well, I won't be happy, but I will to leave them out. I do realise that eBooks are already available for some of the stories, but I am attempting to compile as many stories as possible in a few volumes.

I will be giving full credit to the appropriate authors, and expect my own tiny, infinitesimally small contribution to this amazing universe that you have created to be noted by a small footnote at the start of the book that says "Compiled and Edited by F.L. Dragon".

I expect it to be completed within a month or two, maybe four if I get held up, as there is a lot of story to go through, proof-read to get any mistakes that may have been missed, and to make sure the formatting is consistent. I will also be doing this on my own, although any help would be appreciated. After completion, I expect to maintain the compilation on a monthly to bimonthly basis. This may be adjusted later to a quarterly update, but it will still be available and maintained.

Finally, I don't expect to make any monetary units from this project. At all. Zero Dollars.

And so, I humbly ask your permission to begin work on this project. I will be more than happy to provide progress updates every now and then, and I hope to complete it to your satisfaction.

Thank you for your time and consideration.
--[[User:FlyLowDragon|F.L. Dragon]] ([[User talk:FlyLowDragon|talk]]) 08:22, 8 April 2015 (CDT)
:You know, some of the stories in this setting already have e-book versions; I can't remember exactly which ones they are, but I ''do'' recall that those that do have a notice at the top. Could this help you with your project? Anyway, I think it's cool that you're compiling all of the ''FreeRDIErs'' stories into one collection. I ''do'', however, have one thought about this effort: wouldn't it be a ''lot'' easier to create an automated solution to do this for you rather than updating it manually?
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 16:12, 9 April 2015 (EDT)
::I do realise that, but they are: 1) all in separate e-books, and 2) not the Director's Cut versions. I think. I haven't actually looked at them, to be honest. Also, to create an e-book, all you need is the text, so going to pre-existing e-books that may or may not let you copy the text, depending on what software you use to read them, is not very helpful. Although seeing how the formatting is done in them might give me a standard to aim towards.
::Setting up an automated process for it... It can be semi-automated, but I'd still need to go through and make sure that all of the formatting is correct and consistent, and start it. Compare, for example, Aloha, by Jetfire, and Marshals, by JonBuck with Robotech_Master, paying attention to the dates given in story. In Aloha, they are bolded, while they are italicised in Marshals. It is very difficult to account for small things like that in the formatting, and so it is preferable to do it manually.
::Also, automation isn't that simple. When a new story is posted, I would still need to put the text into a word processor, make sure it is formatted properly in the word processor, give it another go-over for spelling and punctuation errors, use file conversion tools to convert the file into an e-book file, and then make sure that the file conversion tools didn't mangle the formatting, before giving it another go over for anything I missed, and then going back to step 2 if there is something I missed. And then send a version back to the author without the spelling mistakes. This process can only be reliably done by a human, and trying to automate it... well, I think the strip at https://xkcd.com/1319/ shows what I'm talking about. I'd end up spending more time working on the automation than I'd save by using the automation.
::Once the bulk of the work is done (got all pre-existing stories in the e-book), then it might only take me as long as it takes me to read the story to fix any new stories up and get them fully formatted. That is, if it doesn't get to me all mangled, badly formatted, and/or full of spelling and punctuation errors. And if I get to read it at the same time, well, bonus! So, no automation, although I would create a few templates to help reduce the time spent on it.
::Still, by the end of it all, I think I might end up reading each story however many times anyway, so win-win! :P
::--[[User:FlyLowDragon|F.L. Dragon]] ([[User talk:FlyLowDragon|talk]]) 21:45, 9 April 2015 (CDT)
:::Ah, of course! Maybe you could put your work up in a central place — say, either here on Shfiti or maybe in a repository hosted somewhere like [https://github.com/ GitHub] — so that others could contribute if they wanted and when they had the time? I've been thinking about going back through the stories and proofreading them anyway, so I'll probably chip in some work even though I'm currently working on my own mini-arc of stories at the moment since those are still just in the early planning/brainstorming/writing stages. Anyway, good luck, and I'll probably see you around!
:::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 12:59, 12 April 2015 (EDT)
:::Actually, the only works with Directors Cut versions so far ''do'' have e-books. The e-books of "Deserted" and "Merging Traffic" both incorporate the DirCut revisions, and the DirCut version of the original "FreeRIDErs" is incorporated along with the DirCuts of the chapters of "Integration" we have done so far as an "Integration" e-book, which will grow as we crank out more DirCuts. We haven't really had time to focus on that lately, because the next Totalia story has been kicking our asses for months now. But we're almost done with that, and should be able to bang out a few more after that (we hope).
:::Also, I question the necessity of a FreeRIDErs e-book that collects ''everything.'' People only read one story at a time, after all. A single e-book with all the stories in it could be kind of large and unwieldy, like the 75 megabyte version of all 15 ''Wheel of Time'' e-books that was included with last year's Hugo Nominations packet. For now, if you wanted to e-bookerize things, it would probably be best if you concentrated on creating single e-books of stories that don't have them yet, like all of Jetfire's stuff—though I'd suggest getting permission from him first, since that's only polite.
:::Apart from that, I suppose I wouldn't have any objection to an e-book of everything, provided that the stories were presented in publication order insofar as is possible. It just seems less useful right now than having individual e-books of everything.
:::—[[User:Robotech Master|Robotech Master]] ([[User talk:Robotech Master|talk]]) 01:14, 15 April 2015 (CDT)
:::Yeah, when I suggested this, I didn't think of how unwieldy it could be. I do still want to create a collection of the stories, but it is now more likely to be in the form of multiple e-books. The original plan was to split everything into different volumes, maybe 3 or 4, but even then it would still be a bit big. A quick word count of Jetfire's work up to All Spark Bulletin got a word count of over 180'000. This might not be a door-stopper, but it is still a decent length, and is only a fraction of the total writing, and more recent works (like the Totalia series) are probably longer than that in their own right. So, the aim now will be to create an e-book of each story that doesn't already have one, and compiling them in the one location for easy access. I may still decide to combine some stories that are in the same arc but one or some of the stories is a bit shorter (like the Foxed duology), with the author's permission of course. I'll probably try to make each e-book at least 40'000 words in length, which is about the size of a small novel, or a large novella. This will mean I may combine a few of the early Aloha stories, if I get Jetfire's permission, as Aloha on its own is only about 11'000 words.
:::I'll probably keep the standard of formatting similar to the pre-existing e-books, so I'll definitely look at them. I probably should have gone through them before suggesting stuff, though. GitHub does look like a good place to store everything, and it would allow me to make revisions reasonably easily, as well as create to-do lists for any broken formatting and spelling errors. Still, I'll look into it a bit more before coming to a final decision.
:::So, I guess I'm still waiting on permission from Jetfire, Fibio, HawlSera, Kris, and Claude LeChat, assuming that you speak for JonBuck as well, Robotech_Master. I am also curious as to the status and canonicity of Oddoneout's two stories that are sitting in the Category page, but not in the setting page, as well as Jetfire's Rescue 911, in the same situation.
:::--[[User:FlyLowDragon|F.L. Dragon]] ([[User talk:FlyLowDragon|talk]]) 15:52, 15 April 2015 (CDT)
::::You know, now that I think about it, GitHub might actually ''not'' be the best place to store the results of this project. After all, we ''already'' have a version-control system on-wiki in the form of edit tracking, right? I'd be perfectly fine with using that instead if it weren't for the permissions issues inherent in the fact that a lot of the ''FreeRIDErs'' universe's stories are hosted on their authors' Shifti user pages, but I think this problem could be solved if we got something like [https://www.mediawiki.org/wiki/Extension:FlaggedRevs the 'FlaggedRevs' extension] set up here on Shifti and we moved all of the stories into the 'Article' namespace. Then all we'd need is something like one of the page-exporting extensions listed [https://www.mediawiki.org/wiki/Publishing_from_MediaWiki#Extensions_to_help_with_exporting_data here], and then we'd automatically be in business. Or maybe we could still use GitHub, but only as a way to store automated dumps of individual stories to different formats (or maybe even an automated compilation?) Anyway, that's what I've come to realize.
::::— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 18:57, 13 November 2015 (EST)
::::Oh my, I'm so sorry for the late answer. Wasn't watching this page 8 months ago. For what it's worth, I thought of something similar in the past: that it would be fun to have the various stories bundled in a logical series of volumes. Say, "Zharus" would contain Deserted, Merging Traffic and FreeRIDErs; "Integration" would contain the eponymous novel. (Yes I know, it wasn't conceived as a novel, but it came out as one.) "Tales of Alpha Camp" would have Second-Hand Lioness, Wolves in the Fold 1+2 and Young Guns; "Law of the Desert" would group the various Marshal stories plus the Bartertown stories, and so on. Of course, this is just a tentative grouping, but I think it would make sense. And by the way, my own Alpha Camp trilogy is now collected into a nice e-book, complete with cover art, that I might upload somewhere at some point. But if anyone wants to make their own anthology, be my guest. I like having readers.
:::: -- [[User:Claude LeChat|Claude LeChat]] ([[User talk:Claude LeChat|talk]]) 02:17, 11 December 2015 (CST)

== Good Location for Shared ''FreeRIDErs'' Projects? ==

Hey, I just wanted to know if there might be a good location on Shifti from which to share incomplete ''FreeRIDErs'' projects with other users. I've got some stuff that I'm working on with [[User:Fahzyr|Fahzyr]] in my user space, but I want him to be able to edit it, too. Should I just move this content out of my user space and into a new page on Shifti, or should such content be categorized/filed under this setting page?
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 14:16, 30 April 2015 (EDT)

== ''FreeRIDErs'' Theme Song! ==

I was inspired to start writing a [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Songs/''FreeRIDErs'' Theme Song|theme song]], so now I guess we'll be ready if the series ever becomes a TV show, not that that'll happen in our lifetimes or anything. Anyway, I hope you guys like what I've got so far, and I'll see what I can do about adding/uploading the tune to Shifti. (I'd do it sooner rather than later if my sister's synthesizer keyboard were closer to the computer; then maybe the MIDI-to-USB cable would reach!) 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 15:01, 5 May 2015 (EDT)

FreeRIDErs (publication order)

2015-12-09T16:39:42Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to The Wolf and the Father.

This is the publication order of the "main" stories in the FreeRIDErs universe. Feel free to add your story here once it's published.

==2012==
07/22/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Deserted|Deserted]], [[User:Robotech_Master/Merging_Traffic|Merging Traffic]], [[User:Robotech_Master/FreeRIDErs_dircut|FreeRIDErs]] 
07/25/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/All Nighter|Integration Part 1: All Nighter]] 
07/29/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Integrates|Integration Part 2: Integrates]] 
07/31/12 [[User:Robotech Master/RIDEgirls Day Out|Integration Part 3: RIDEgirls' Day Out]] 
08/05/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Dating Games|Integration Part 4: Dating Games]] 
08/08/12 [[User:Robotech Master/N00bs|Integration Part 5: N00bs]] 
08/11/12 [[User:Robotech Master/All Aboard|Integration Part 6: All Aboard!]] 
08/12/12 [[User:Robotech Master/A Meating of the Board|Integration Part 7: A Meating of the Board]] 
08/16/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Meat the Press|Integration Part 8: Meat, the Press]] 
08/16/12 [[User:Jetfire/Aloha|Aloha]] 
08/19/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Stockholm Vacation|Integration Part 9: Stockholm Vacation]] 
08/22/12 [[User:Jetfire/Splashdown|Splashdown]] 
08/22/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Spaceflight of Fancy|Integration Part 10: Spaceflight of Fancy]] 
08/24/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Rochelle Rufia|Rochelle & Rufia: R&R]] 
08/26/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Slightly Foxed|Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed]] 
08/27/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Citizen Katie|Integration Part 11: Citizen Katie]] 
08/31/12 [[Turnover]] 
09/01/12 [[User:Robotech Master/The Crew|Integration Part 12: The Crew]] 
09/02/12 [[User:Jetfire/Astra-naught|Astra-naught]] 
09/08/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Cat's Paw]] 
09/08/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Kaylee Anny|Integration Part 13: Kaylee & Anny]] 
09/14/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Viral Thief]] 
09/16/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Assault Batteries|Integration Part 14: Assault and Batteries]] 
09/17/12 [[User:Jetfire/The_Lady_of_the_Tiger|The Lady of the Tiger]] 
09/22/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Multimillion Vault]] 
10/04/12 [[User:Jetfire/Cave_of_Wonders|Cave of Wonders]] 
10/07/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Task of Amontillado|Integration Part 15: The Task of Amontillado]] 
10/09/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/More Foxed|Longer Fused, More Foxed]] 
10/14/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Integrate Raids|Integration Part 16: The Integrate Raids]] 
10/18/12 [[User:JonBuck/Marshals|Marshals]] 
10/21/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Kandace Jenni Friendship|Kandace and Jenni: A Beautiful Friendship]] 
10/26/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Family Matters|Integration Part 17: Family Matters]] 
11/14/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Many Meetings|Integration Part 18: Many Meetings]] 
12/13/12 [[User:Jetfire/Sum of Their Parts|Sum of Their Parts]], [[User:Jetfire/Walkabout|Walkabout]] 
12/15/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Meetings Completing|Integration Part 19: Meetings Completing]] 
12/23/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Prodigals|Integration Part 20: Prodigals]] 
12/31/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Enemy Lines|Integration Part 21: Enemy Lines]]

==2013==
01/22/13 [[User:JonBuck/Fly With Me|Fly With Me]] 
01/29/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/jeanette-lioness|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Second-Hand Lioness]] 
02/01/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Alpha Strike|Integration Part 22: Alpha Strike]] 
02/13/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Universe of Battle|Integration Part 23: Universe of Battle]] 
02/19/13 [[User:Robotech Master/What Happened Mouse|Integration Part 24: What Happened to the Mouse?]] 
02/23/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/Rochelle Rufia Redux|Rochelle & Rufia Redux: Foxing About]] 
02/27/13 [[User:Robotech Master/The Big Date|Integration Part 25 (Epilogue): The Big Date]] 
03/24/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Impossible Things|Impossible Things]] 
04/23/13 [[User:Jetfire/All_Spark_Bulletin|All Spark Bulletin]] 
04/30/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Aloha Stonegates|Aloha, Stonegates!]], [[User:Robotech Master/Skunked|Skunked!]] 
06/03/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Paws Up|Paws Up!]] 
06/24/13 [[User:Jetfire/Spies_Among_Us|Spies Among Us]] 
08/27/13 [[User:Robotech Master/A Wolf at the Door|Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door]] 
09/15/13 [[Taking the Plunge]] 
09/24/13 [[User:Jetfire/Broken_Crown|Broken Crown]] 
10/06/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Spotted Stowaway|Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway]], [[User:Robotech Master/Saints Marching|The Saints Go Marching In]] 
11/17/13 [[User:Claude_LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] 
11/22/13 [[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] 
12/03/13 [[User:Jetfire/Spacer_Oddity| A Spacer Oddity]] 
12/08/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/A_Fritzmas_Carol|A Fritzmas Carol]] 
12/20/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Yield Ahead|Merging Traffic II: Yield Ahead]] 
12/22/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Good Bad Fritzy|The Good, the Bad, and the Fritzy]] 
12/26/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Family Lynx|Family Lynx]]

==2014==
01/11/14 [[User:Robotech Master/A_Wolf_in_Sheep's_Clothing|Wolves in the Fold, Part Two: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing]] 
01/13/14 [[User:Jetfire/Spice Girls|Spice Girls]] 
01/18/14 [[User:Robotech Master/The General|The General]] 
01/30/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Greatest Show|The Greatest Show]] 
02/09/14 [[User:Robotech Master/GI Joe|G.I. Joe]] 
02/12/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/Joseph_Life|Joseph Steader, This is Your Life!]] 
02/12/14 [[User:Jetfire/Cat_Scratch_Fever|Cat Scratch Fever]] 
02/14/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Pride Lioness|Pride of Lioness]] 
02/19/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/shell_game|The Gondwana Grand Tour, Prologue: Shell Game]] 
03/02/14 [[User:Jetfire/Rescue_911|Rescue 911]] 
03/13/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/Where_Everybody_Knows_Your_Name|Where Everybody Knows Your Name]] 
03/15/14 [[User:Jetfire/In_Space|In Space...]] 
03/16/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Kevin De-Claude|Kevin, De-Claude]] 
03/23/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Final Countdown|The Final Countdown]] 
05/10/14 [[User:Robotech Master/youngguns|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Young Guns]] 
06/15/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_uplift|The Gondwana Grand Tour, Chapter One: Uplift and the Tunnel]] 
07/12/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Totalia Prelude|Return to Totalia, Part One: Prelude]] 
07/24/14 [[User:Jetfire/The_Touch|The Touch]] 
10/22/14 [[User:Robotech_Master/Dog Day Morning|Dog Day Morning]] 
11/15/14 [[User:Robotech Master/When the Lady Smiles|Merging Traffic III: When the Lady Smiles]]

==2015==
01/27/15 [[User:Robotech_Master/Ride_Sally|Marshals: Beginnings, Episode One: Ride, Sally]] 
01/27/15 [[User:Robotech_Master/Reaping_the_Whirlwind|Marshals: Beginnings, Episode Two: Reaping the Whirlwind]] 
04/21/15 [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Visitors|Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels, Part One: Visitors]] 
04/21/15 [[User:Jetfire/The_Power|The Power]] 
05/16/15 [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Clementine|Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels, Part Two: Clementine]] 
06/16/15 [[User:Jetfire/United_Way|United Way]] 
06/17/15 [[User:Robotech_Master/Parallels Fleet|Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels, Part Three: The Fleet]] 
12/09/15 [[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]]

FreeRIDErs (setting)

2015-12-09T16:36:39Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to The Wolf and the Father.

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}{{DEFAULTSORT:FreeRIDErs (Setting Overview & Story Timeline)}}

{{byline|author=Jon Buck
|user=JonBuck}}

{{byline|author=Robotech_Master
|user=Robotech_Master}}

=={{separator|f|Setting Overview}}==
[[Image:CatGirls.jpg|thumb|300px|Kaylee and Uncia in battle dress, by Marty Salsman (http://martysalsman.deviantart.com)]]In the 25th century, scientists and technicians on the distant colony world of Zharus make a startling breakthrough in energy storage and artificial intelligence, with the aid of "qubitite," a naturally-occurring metamaterial with remarkable quantum properties. The creation of true AI springs from quantum simulations of neural networks based on animals' genetic material that expand to take on true sapience.

Matching these "Reticulated Intelligence" (RI) neural networks with nanotech-composite "Drive Extender" (DE) transforming robotic bodies produces the RIDE: a metallic animal that can transform itself into a vehicle such as a hover-motorcycle (or hover-car or even plane for larger animals), or into an environmentally sealed suit of anthropomorphic-animal body armor to survive the extreme environments of Zharus's deserts, undersea, or even outer space. (Because combining with such a suit goes beyond merely putting it on and involves elements of physical and neural linkage, the act of merging with a RIDE in armor mode is called "Fusing.") Thanks to "hardlight" technology, RIDEs can even be covered with solid holographic fur that feels real to the touch, and even to the RIDE itself.

However, due to their animal basis, Fusing with a RIDE can have consequences for the pilot. In order for them to be neurologically compatible, the pilot has to have similar physical features to the RIDE itself—and the RIDE's nanotech innards are designed to grant those changes. This means that Fusing with RIDEs based on ordinary land mammals will grant the rider their ears and tail (and sometimes more extreme additions such as nose, eyes, or fur).

RIDEs based on further different animals, such as reptiles, birds, or undersea mammals, can produce much extreme changes in their riders that restrict their ability to change back or combine with a different RIDE. And likewise, if the pilot is the wrong gender, the RIDE's nanites will adjust that, too. In most cases of gender or other extreme change, the changed human is unable to safely change back for at least three years.

These RIDEs are used in taming the huge continent of Gondwana, a harsh and often lawless frontier that, unlike the more sedate and longer-settled continent of Laurasia, has many rich resources there for the taking, and a number of city-states occupying the ring of fertile land around the great central desert. In the desert, RIDEs are necessary to live. In the cities, they are urban transportation and playthings of the wealthy and middle-class alike. But even as they are considered mere "equipment" by many, those who know and love them know they are more than that—they are ''people'' too. Will the world come to realize and acknowledge this?

[[Image:Uncia-Harlan-Stein.jpg|thumb|150px|Uncia in battle dress, by Diana Harlan Stein (http://naiadstudios.com)]]In recent years, rumors of a new form of change have been circulating—a combining of rider and RIDE that goes far beyond Fusing. Called "Integration," this combines man and machine into a single gestalt being who can no longer separate—and who are rumored to possess powers far beyond those of mere mortals or RIDEs. It is as yet unclear whether these "Integrates" are to be welcomed or feared—and, indeed, many would place them in the same category as Bigfoot, the Yeti, or the Loch Ness Monster. But these Integrates may be growing tired of keeping to themselves.

And the latest potential threat may very well be the old home world of Earth itself. For fifty years, it has scoffed at the idea that a distant, backward world like Zharus could be the home of so many major technological breakthroughs. But Earth's mind may be changing on that score—and it has long been known for its willingness to reach out and take what it wants.

Welcome to the world of Zharus—and to its denizens. Colonists. Bandits. Miners. Mechanics. ''FreeRIDErs.''

=={{separator|f|Suggested Reading Order}}==

===Robotech_Master's Take===
As this is a shared universe, there could be plenty of jumping-on points. '''The very best way to read it would probably be by publication order,''' since that would give you the same effect as the people who were reading it in real time from the beginning. '''There's a list available [[FreeRIDErs (publication order)|here]].'''

Otherwise, I suggest reading "Deserted", "Merging Traffic", "Rochelle & Rufia: R&R", then "FreeRIDErs", then the first few chapters of "Integration" (and my "Foxed" tales), as those were all written earliest and have most of the earliest setting building in them. Then you can read Jetfire's and the other authors' stories in chronological order, and continue reading "Integration" after that. (Probably should leave "Second-Hand Lioness" until after Integration #21, otherwise some events in the main story could be spoiled.)

I'd suggest to have all of Jetfire's chronologically-earlier stuff read before you get to Integration #14, since that's where some of his characters merge into the storyline. That being said, you could probably just as easily read everything in straight chronological order without missing ''too'' much. Or just pick one writer at random and read his or her works through in order, then pick another one. Once you've read enough, it all starts to make sense together.

Either way, you should read at least some of the stories before you try to dig into the setting background material below the story list on this page. It was mainly written for our own reference and amusement while we built the setting overall, and can be kind of confusing if you come to it without a grounding from the stories in how the world works.

===Claude LeChat's two cents ===

I went a different way myself. ''Deserted'' and ''Merging Traffic'' are of course the mandatory first two, since they introduce the setting and all the most important characters. Then you're free to read e.g. the first three ''Inspecteur Hollins'' stories. But not the fourth, not yet!

Before jumping into the pivotal novel ''Integration'', you'll probably want to read ''FreeRIDErs'', since it provides a crucial bit of background, and possibly ''All Spark Bulletin'', since it's a good introduction to the Munns. But you can't go wrong with any of Jetfire's prequel stories. Fibio's ''Turnover'' will give you a good idea of the spaceship tech in the series, as well as being an emotional story in itself.

Last but not least, ''Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed'' and ''Longer Fused, More Foxed'' fill in a couple of holes in the aforementioned ''Integration'', but you can safely read them afterwards since they're unrelated but for the characters. As for ''Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door'', it makes for a nice "outboard epilogue" to the novel.

Stories that can stand on their own, for readers who aren't familiar with the franchise:

* ''Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway'', but it arguably cheats because it's a spin-off;
* ''As a Woman I RIDE'';
* My own ''Alpha Camp'', if you don't mind minor spoilers for how the conflict of ''Integration'' unfolds.

=={{separator|f|Stories in Chronological Order}}==

[[Image:Faught_kaylee_uncia.jpg|thumb|300px|Kaylee and Uncia in battle gear as depicted by David Faught - https://www.facebook.com/DavidFaughtArtist]]Authors may add links to their stories as they happen in chronological order in story time. ("AL" stands for "After Landing," representing the number of years after the colony ships landed in 2350 AD.) For a complete listing of all FreeRIDErs stories, since this list may be updated sporadically, see [[:Category:FreeRIDErs|the FreeRIDErs Category]].

Stories that have been updated to the "Director's Cut" second draft edition are indicated with a '''(DC)''' afterward.

'''66 AL (2416 AD)'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/The General|The General]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''108 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Aloha|Aloha]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''112 AL to 113 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Greatest Show|The Greatest Show]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' with ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''121 AL to 123 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/GI_Joe|G.I. Joe]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

'''122 AL'''

*[[User:Jetfire/Broken_Crown|Broken Crown]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''128 AL'''
*Marshals: Beginnings
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Ride_Sally|Episode One: Ride, Sally]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Reaping_the_Whirlwind|Episode Two: Reaping the Whirlwind]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''129 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Splashdown|Splashdown]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''131 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Astra-naught|Astra-naught]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''132 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Where_Everybody_Knows_Your_Name|Where Everybody Knows Your Name]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''134 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/The_Lady_of_the_Tiger|The Lady of the Tiger]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''133 AL to 138 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Cave_of_Wonders|Cave of Wonders]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''138 AL to 152 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Sum of Their Parts|Sum of Their Parts]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''140 to 141 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/Fly With Me|Fly With Me]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

'''142 to 150 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/Simon Of Cape Nord|Simon Of Cape Nord]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]'')

'''143 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/Bob's Origin|Bob's Origin]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]'')

'''144 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/A_Fritzmas_Carol|A Fritzmas Carol]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''146 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/Aloha666|Aloha 666]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]''

'''147 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/FADE IN|FADE IN]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

'''147 AL to 154 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Spice Girls|Spice Girls]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

[[Image:Zane-Harlan-Stein.jpg|thumb|300px|Zane, and the Zane Cane, by Diana Harlan Stein (http://naiadstudios.com)]]'''148 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/As A Woman I RIDE|As A Woman I RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/At Ace, We RIDE|At ACE, We RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Hawl/To Dream, We RIDE|To Dream, We RIDE]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]''
*[[User:Hawl/We live to RIDE, We RIDE to Live|We live to RIDE, We RIDE to Live]]''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]''
*[[User:Hawl/Nearing The End Of Our RIDE|Nearing The End Of Our RIDE]]'' ([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]]''
*[[User:Hawl/For Victory, For Venars, Together We RIDE!|For Victory, For Venars, Together We RIDE]]'' ([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])
*[[User:Hawl/TWREpilogue:We'll RIDE Again Someday|TWREpilogue:We'll RIDE Again Someday]]

'''149 AL'''
* [[User:Jetfire/In_Space|In Space...]] (149 to 156 AL) ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' Co-written with [[User:JonBuck|Jon Buck]]

'''152 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Pride_Lioness|Pride of Lioness]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

'''152 to 153 AL'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Walkabout|Walkabout]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/All_Spark_Bulletin|All Spark Bulletin]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/The_Touch|The Touch]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''153 AL'''
*[[User:Hawl/An_Integrate's_Guide_To_Love|Integrate's Guide To Love]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''

'''155 to 156 AL'''
*[[User:JonBuck/Marshals|Marshals]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' with ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''

[[Image:Blackmon-KayleeUncia-lines-01.jpg|thumb|300px|Uncia and Kaylee in battle as depicted by Jacob Blackmon - http://prodigyduck.deviantart.com/]]'''156 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/jeanette-lioness|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Second-Hand Lioness]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (begins before "Deserted" and covers all the way through Integration #21)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Deserted|Deserted]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Hawl/Crossrider's Dream|CrossRIDEr's Dream]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Takes place one week after Chapter 5 of Desserted, but is not a story in the Integration Storyline)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Merging_Traffic|Merging Traffic]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Rochelle Rufia|Rochelle & Rufia: R&R]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/FreeRIDErs_dircut|FreeRIDErs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])'' '''(DC)'''
*[[Turnover]] '' ([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])''
*Integration
**[[User:Robotech_Master/All Nighter|Part 1: All Nighter]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech_Master/Integrates|Part 2: Integrates]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/RIDEgirls Day Out|Part 3: RIDEgirls' Day Out]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Dating Games|Part 4: Dating Games]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' '''(DC)'''
**[[User:Robotech Master/N00bs|Part 5: N00bs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/All Aboard|Part 6: All Aboard!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/A Meating of the Board|Part 7: A Meating of the Board]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Meat the Press|Part 8: Meat, the Press]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Stockholm Vacation|Part 9: Stockholm Vacation]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Spaceflight of Fancy|Part 10: Spaceflight of Fancy]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Citizen Katie|Part 11: Citizen Katie]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/The Crew|Part 12: The Crew]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Kaylee Anny|Part 13: Kaylee & Anny]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Assault Batteries|Part 14: Assault and Batteries]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Task of Amontillado|Part 15: The Task of Amontillado]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Integrate Raids|Part 16: The Integrate Raids]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Family Matters|Part 17: Family Matters]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Many Meetings|Part 18: Many Meetings]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Meetings Completing|Part 19: Meetings Completing]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Prodigals|Part 20: Prodigals]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Enemy Lines|Part 21: Enemy Lines]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Alpha Strike|Part 22: Alpha Strike]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/Universe of Battle|Part 23: Universe of Battle]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/What Happened Mouse|Part 24: What Happened to the Mouse?]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
**[[User:Robotech Master/The Big Date|Part 25 (Epilogue): The Big Date]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Slightly Foxed|Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place between Part 5 and Part 6 of Integration)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/More Foxed|Longer Fused, More Foxed]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place between Part 5 and Part 14 of Integration)
*Cores of Sarium
**[[User:Hawl/Buttercup's Heist|Part 1:Buttercup's Heist]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Takes place during the two days before Part 8 of Integration)
**[[User:Hawl/Ruby Withdrawal|Part 2:Ruby Withdrawal]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/Making a Man Out Of Jamie|Part 3:Making a Man Out Of Jamie]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*Omniverse OverRIDE
**[[User:Hawl/GoKARTers|Part 1:GoKARTers]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])'' (Starts in 150 AL, Ends around May 156 AL, about a week or so after FreeRIDErs ends)
**[[User:Hawl/DayOfTheDin|Part 2:Day Of The Din]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/Serve In Hell, Rule In Heaven|Part 3:Serve In Hell, Rule In Heaven]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
**[[User:Hawl/In Need Of A Mother|Part 4:In Need Of A mother]] ''([[User:Hawl|HawlSera]])''
*[[User:Claude_LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] ''([[User:Claude_LeChat|Claude LeChat]])'' (begins in Part 8 of Integration)
*[[Taking the Plunge]] ''([[User:Kris|Kris]])'' (takes place after Part 8 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Cat's Paw]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place during parts 9-11 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Viral Thief]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place sometime after part 12 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Multimillion Vault]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place after part 12 of Integration)
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Kandace Jenni Friendship|Kandace and Jenni: A Beautiful Friendship]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (takes place during/after the end of Part 15 of Integration)
* [[User:Robotech_Master/Rochelle Rufia Redux|Rochelle & Rufia Redux: Foxing About]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (takes place after the end of Part 17 of Integration)
*[[Inspecteur Hollins and The Integral Assassin]] ''([[User:Fibio|Fibio]])'' (takes place during part 23 of Integration)
* [[User:Jetfire/Spacer_Oddity| A Spacer Oddity]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Robotech Master/Final Countdown|The Final Countdown]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' with ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')

'''156 to 157 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Spotted Stowaway|Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (starts before "Deserted"; concludes after "Integration" and the "Stonegates" stories)
* [[User:Robotech Master/Yield Ahead|Merging Traffic II: Yield Ahead]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

[[Image:Cybercats001color.jpg|thumb|300px|Rochelle and Kaylee as interpreted by William Levy (http://williamlevy.deviantart.com/)]]'''157 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/A Wolf at the Door|Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])'' (with ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]''))
* [[User:Robotech Master/A_Wolf_in_Sheep's_Clothing|Wolves in the Fold, Part Two: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
* [[User:Claude_LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]] ''([[User:Claude_LeChat|Claude LeChat]])'' (position in timeline is approximate)
* [[User:Robotech Master/Impossible Things|Impossible Things]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Aloha Stonegates|Aloha, Stonegates!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'', ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Skunked|Skunked!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Paws Up|Paws Up!]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'' and ''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Kevin De-Claude|Kevin, De-Claude]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/youngguns|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Young Guns]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Joseph_Life|Joseph Steader, This is Your Life!]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
* The Gondwana Grand Tour ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''
** [[User:Robotech_Master/shell_game|Prologue: Shell Game]]
** [[User:Robotech_Master/ggt_uplift|Chapter One: Uplift and the Tunnel]]
* [[User:Robotech Master/Good Bad Fritzy|The Good, the Bad, and the Fritzy]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Saints Marching|The Saints Go Marching In]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Family Lynx|Family Lynx]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Robotech Master/Dog Day Morning|Dog Day Morning]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Robotech Master/When the Lady Smiles|Merging Traffic III: When the Lady Smiles]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'')

'''157 to 158 AL'''
* [[User:Robotech Master/Totalia Prelude|Return to Totalia, Part One: Prelude]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'' and ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]]'')
* [[User:Jetfire/DragonRIDEr_of_Pharos|DragonRIDEr of Pharos]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (Date fuzzy, sometime after Inties are revealed)

'''158 AL'''
*[[User:Robotech_Master/Tick Tock Tick|Tick Tock Tick]] ''([[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/Spies_Among_Us|Spies Among Us]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/Cat_Scratch_Fever|Cat Scratch Fever]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])'' (Starts in 157 AL)
*[[User:Jetfire/Rescue_911|Rescue 911]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* [[User:Jetfire/United_Way|United Way]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* Return to Totalia, Part Two: Parallels
** [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Visitors|Part One: Visitors]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')
** [[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Clementine|Part Two: Clementine]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')
**[[User:Robotech Master/Parallels Fleet|Part Three: The Fleet]] (''[[User:Robotech_Master|Robotech_Master]]'', ''[[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]],'' and ''[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]'')

*[[User:Jetfire/The_Power|The Power]] ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
* ''[[User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father|The Wolf and the Father]]'', ''[[User:Claude LeChat|Claude LeChat]]'' (takes place after ''Young Guns'')

=={{separator|f|FreeRIDErs First Drafts}}==

Since we've started going back and revising the early portions of the story to bring the into line with what we wrote later, we have decided to preserve early drafts when they are changed sufficiently to merit a separate presentation. For most of these (but not "FreeRIDErs"), you can also use the "History" function to see what changed.

*[[User:JonBuck/FreeRIDErs|FreeRIDErs]] ''([[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]])''

=={{separator|f|Background Material}}==

Due to the huge amount of material, we have moved this to its own page:

[[FreeRIDErs (background material)]]

[[Category:FreeRIDErs]]

User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp

2015-12-09T16:29:26Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to The Wolf and the Father.

User:Claude LeChat/The Wolf and the Father

2015-12-09T16:29:04Z

Claude LeChat: Created

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:FreeRIDErs]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Wolf]]

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}

{{title
|name=Return to Alpha Camp
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://felix.plesoianu.ro/pub/sci-fi/the-wolf-and-the-father.txt from here]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

Fri October 12, 158AL

{{dropcap|I}}t's an oft-repeated truism that human beings have no sense of scale.
At least native Zharusians are better in this regard than their
ancestors on Earth. Even so, the mind boggles at the scale of a desert
that could swallow entire continents from mankind's planet of origin.
Countless brave souls scouring that vastness for over a century
haven't come close to exhausting its secrets; how many perished in
the attempt, nobody could tell.

So it happens that even today few people would know where to find the
handful of hardlight domes sheltering a town of maybe five thousand
from the inferno that is the Dry Ocean. Here, the wind can flay meat
right off the bones and boil blood before it spills on the ground,
while a few steps away, inside the shimmering barrier, it's like being
inside an air conditioned building.

The residents of Alpha Camp are grateful for it. Doubly so as some of
them still remember the last time the domes failed.

An evening like any other, one of the latter was patiently making his
way through the thickening traffic along Main Street: a young man,
lightly built, with brown skin and hair that wouldn't stay combed.
He was hovering one meter off the ground on a skimmer bike with
organic curves reminiscent of a stylized wolf; his t-shirt and jeans
looked especially plain among outfits from all over the twentieth
century, brought back to life by the vagaries of fashion after five
hundred years.

At length, he made his way to the small park at the very center of
the town, pulling over next to a water well straight out of a
Spaghetti Western. He reached over to place a big paper bag on a
nearby bench, his other hand brushing over the dashboard in an oddly
tender gesture. To that the bike reacted, unfolding like a giant metal
origami which enveloped the young man completely. A hardlight furcoat
flickered into being. Seconds later, it was a three-meter-tall
humanoid wolf who stood there, wearing only a metal kilt for modesty.
The new creature sat on the bench and opened the bag, revealing a big
home-made sandwich and a couple of apples.

"Remember when we first ate together, Alex?"

"How could I forget, Rafe? Flora and Henriette had made us a bag just
like this one."

The young man's voice broke. Tears welled up in his eyes. From outside,
his living armor seemed firm as a rock, but inside man and machine
clung to each other for strength.

"We were... we were sitting right here... at dusk..."

"Shh... let's eat now."

They did so in silence. The sun descended towards the horizon,
painting the treetops red, then even the long Zharusian day ended.
A foam of stars winked into view across the darkening sky. That, too,
stirred up memories.

"What's troubling you, Rafe?"

"Is it so obvious?" The RIDE chuckled -- a mechanical grinding noise.

"It's this whole Beta Camp affair, isn't it? I'm shaken too, if it's
any consolation."

Rafe gave an inward nod. "What if I hadn't gotten to you first, back
in the bad old days?"

Alex shivered. It was a while before he answered. "At least Leona will
never bodyjack anyone again. And to think it was our very own Jeanette
who caught her."

"Hey, Jeanette is the only human in Alpha Camp who bodyjacked her RIDE
instead of the other way around. That has to count for something."

Human and RIDE shared a nervous laugh. Around them, a light breeze
picked up: the domes were large enough to have their own microclimate.
Other stragglers were walking the alleyways. Humans with RIDEs. Humans
''in'' RIDEs. Integrates. One or two even waved to the pair. It didn't
help their mood much.

"Let's go home, Rafe, we have work tomorrow."

The metal origami unfolded again, but this time Rafe didn't go back to
his vehicle form, instead adopting that of his natural counterpart:
an arctic wolf. The night wind ruffled his fur, and he leaned heavily
against his friend. They walked away touching each other at every step.

----

The clickety-clack of high heels echoed along the gloomy corridor,
punctuated by slower, heavier steps. The young woman was plump, with
freckled face and wavy red hair; her dress would have been the height
of fashion in 1938 London. At her side walked a brown bear, wearing
a hat in the same style and matching necklace, but nothing else.
No-one seemed to notice their presence as they went past door after
closed door on either side, silence ringing behind each and every one.

It was a spartan antechamber that awaited at the far end, but nobody
there to stop them. They strode right through, into an office bathed
in blinding sunlight that the venetian blinds did little to temper.

Someone else was present after all, a three-meter tall humanoid wolf
who stood on empty air half a meter above the floor, hands and muzzle
hidden by an open panel in the ceiling. His ears swiveled in the
direction of his guests, and he floated down to the floor, derezzing
the screwdriver he was holding.

"Alice! Helga!" The wolf took a step towards the girl, tail wagging,
then checked himself. It was her who stepped forward and hugged him.

"Figured I'd find you two here. Why are you doing the electrician's
job?"

"I am an electrician, remember? No point in waiting for the repairman."

The girl pouted. "Guys... Aren't you working two jobs already? I
hardly ever see you anymore."

"Oh." The wolf's tail drooped, then perked up again. "But we went out
on Sunday! Spent all the day together, didn't we? And the night."

"That was the other Sunday," she replied drily, hands on her hips.
"Wait... Rafe, would you mind letting Alex out for a moment?"

"Huh? Sure." Wolf and man separated in one fluid motion. By day, the
latter looked distinctly haggard, with ugly bags under his eyes.

"Alex," asked the girl very quietly, "when was the last time you took
a vacation?"

"Don't need one," he protested, right before his knees buckled. She
caught him and lowered him gently on a chair. He looked like a child
as he sat slumped on furniture sized for fused RIDEs.

"Told you so," quipped the she-bear.

"So you did, Helga." The young woman dropped in another chair, her own
bear ears flat against her head. "Rafe, why didn't you tell me he was
overworking himself? Why didn't you stop him?"

Now quadrupedal, Rafe looked very guilty. "I tried to tell him..."

"Tell him?! You should have forced him!"

"You know I won't do that!" replied the RIDE, suddenly angry. He
calmed down just as quickly and licked Alex's face before curling up
at the young man's feet. Helga padded over to nuzzle him.

Across from them, Alice clutched her purse nervously. "Alex, why? What
are you trying to prove?"

The young man bit his lips.

"That's it," she said. "I'm comming Alpha Wolf. You have to take a
break."

"But..." Alex complained weakly. "He needs us here... Alpha Camp is
too big now, and..."

She stared him down.

"All right, all right." He started getting up again. "Let me see if
Claude and Kevin can cover for me next week."

"They're not in the office, Alex. Nobody's in the office. It's
Saturday."

Alex's wolfish ears and tail drooped, just like Rafe's earlier. After
a moment, Alice's expression softened, and she moved to walk him out
the door. "Let's get you home, love. You need a nice long sleep and
a big warm meal, then we can comm the cat and his human."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>One week? Really?:: Helga sent privately.

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Baby steps, sis...:: Alice replied with a mental sigh.

Behind them, the office remained just as quiet as the rest of the
building. Only the sun continued its slow arc in the sky.

----

The living room wall lit up and acquired depth, like a window opening
onto a different place altogether: the porch of an old American
farmhouse, complete with rocking chair. A young man occupied the
latter, looking much like Alex except for the pasty white skin. He was
dressed for his surroundings, and busied himself petting a fluffy
white Persian cat, whose purring made the hidden speakers thrum.

"Rafe, Alex. Haven't seen you in a while, guys. What's up?" The young
man's thick East European accent had softened considerably over the
past year, and he sounded a lot more self-assured than they remembered
him. "Actually, is everything all right? You don't look so hot."

"Yeah. We've just been working a lot."

"Tell me about it, man. You're always first in the office. And last."

"Yeah. About that. Listen, Alice wants me to spend more time with her."

"Woo! Congratulations, man. And celebrations. This ''is'' a good thing,
right? It's what you want, too?"

"I do! I do... but there's more." Alex breathed deeply. "She wants me
to take a vacation and introduce her to my parents."

The man on the other side of the screen perked his feline ears. "So,
go for it! When was the last time you went home, anyway?"

Alex's shoulders sagged. "Not since I left..."

"Yikes! Then what are you waiting for, man? A kick in the behind? Go!
We can hold the fort for a while. Right, Kevin?" he asked the cat in
his lap.

"I thought he'd never ask," the cat deadpanned, looking up at him. "Oh
wait, he still hasn't."

The look of embarassment on Alex's face was worthy of a bad anime.

"Is it settled, then?" Alice padded in, balancing a tray that could
barely contain the mountain of food piled up on it. She lowered it to
the coffee table before lounging on the couch next to Alex, and shoved
a big fat falafel in his hands. On the screen, man and cat alike stood
straight, licking their lips and chops, respectively. The girl giggled.

"Want some? Come on over, we can have a good bye party. My doggy boy
here has such a nice pad and never uses it for anything." She ruffled
Alex's hair, not that it made a difference.

"I'm a wolf, not a dog," Rafe pointed out playfully, raising his head
from behind the couch.

"Wolves are supposed to be dignified," she countered, and ruffled
Rafe's fur as well.

"Bears aren't." Helga arrived from the other room only to roll over
on the floor, kicking lazily at the air. Even Alex managed to laugh.

It didn't take long for the guests to arrive. A small town is made
even smaller when people can fly. In meatspace, Kevin was as big as
Rafe, an impressive avatar of Grumpy Cat. They sat on the other couch,
Claude hugging his feline tail while the RIDE turned into a fluffy
backrest. Why they were called RIDE couches as opposed to ottomans
was a mystery for the ages.

"So, how's your life been, Claude?" asked Alex while opening the beer.

"Touristy! Kevin took me places. Aloha, Cascadia, even Nextus once."
He paused to take a sip from the frosted bottle. "You know, it's
strange. Back home, I used to spend most of my time in VR. But here,
I can't get enough of the real world."

"I wonder why," snerked Kevin.

"Well... it helps that the women in Aloha love a slender catboy."
Claude stretched as if to demonstrate, winking at Alex. "The men, too."

"Hey!" Alice stabbed at the air with a chicken skewer. "He's mine!
Paws off, tomcat!"

She tore at the meat with her teeth, growling for emphasis. Even Kevin
couldn't help smiling.

"Humans..." he muttered.

The party only took off from that moment on. At some point it was
night, then dawn, and daylight again. The sun was rising when they
finally went to sleep.

----

If you follow the Neaera eastward, upstream from Zharustead, the first
thing you notice are the endless wheat fields hugging the riverbanks
as a blue ribbon meanders across Laurasia, pooling into pretty little
lakes here and there before moving on. Farther out, forests and
marshes cover the land in a patchwork of earthy colors before blurring
together in the distance. From place to place, a silo or radio tower
gleams in the sun, as if to reassure travelers that they are never too
far from civilization.

The savage continent of Gondwana is half a planet away.

As the sun started its long descent towards the Thalassic Ocean, two
shooting stars moved in the opposite direction at nearly the speed of
sound. Helga's vehicle form hardly suggested it, but she had no
trouble keeping up with Rafe's perpetually underpowered lifters.
Politeness alone kept her from taking the lead; this was, after all,
Alex's home. It was only fair that he showed the way, if only as a
symbolic gesture: their destination was visible to the naked eye by
now.

"Venars started out as a farming town," the young man spoke into his
comm implant, "and it still is, for all their bragging. Ask my parents,
there's nothing to life but hard work and austerity."

Fifty meters to the side, Alice nodded at the camera on her dashboard.
"That's why you left?"

"It was that or the Continental Guard."

She nodded again. The city's skyline raised before them, a mass of
grey towers south of the river, while to the north a single long road
branched out like a pine tree before dissolving into suburbia, then
farmland.

"What's that?" asked Helga, indicating a third of a ring circling the
west side of the city, higher than most buildings.

"The Sky Bridge," explained Alex. "All that's left of the old weather
dome. They didn't have hardlight a century ago."

"Ooh! Can we visit?"

"I'm yet to meet a tourist who doesn't."

The skimmer bikes were flying lower now, their shields turning from
shimmering bullet shapes to barely visible blobs as the RIDEs shed
most of their speed, and they eased onto the invisible spiderweb
weaved by traffic beacons. They touched down on a lively street,
between a garage with a funky name and a pizzeria that seemed to be
on its way out.

"There are more RIDEs than I remember," noted Alex. His helmet
derezzed, and he got out of the saddle to let Rafe transform.

Alice did the same. "Is that unusual?"

"This side of the pond, it is. Then again, Venars was always...
special."

"So we won't attract stares," Helga said pragmatically.

"As if I care," counted the young woman. She surveyed the Brutalist
architecture of the area, hands on her hips. "Pretty impressive,
actually. Your parents live downtown?"

"No way," laughed Alex. "The family estate is up north. I just wanted
to give you the grand tour first."

"Are you sure you don't want to get a hotel room?"

"Mom would be offended if we didn't stay with her."

The wolf paced around. "Do we ride there?"

"It's a short walk, Rafe. Half an hour, tops."

"That's short?!"

"You've never spent much time on a farm, have you?"

Helga was already strolling down the street. "Coming, girl?"

"As soon as I can get the boys to move."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Still pondering what to tell your parents?:: sent Rafe as they
followed. ::Delaying the inevitable helps little, Alex.::

<nowiki>::</nowiki>I know...::

They dragged their feet after the girls, while a colorful crowd
swirled around them, humans and machines mingling together like one
big happy family.

----

Beyond East Square, with its fountains and moving metal sculptures,
behind the concrete geometry of the new town hall, monumental stairs
climb down to the riverbank, at one end of a long and narrow public
park dotted with beer gardens. The city's three bridges are clearly
visible from here, spaced no more than one kilometer apart; the one in
the middle allows the main road to cross the water. On the other side,
rows of ancient apartment buildings soon give way to small businesses
with ample parking spaces in front: most residents still use skimmers
rather than RIDEs. From every sidestreet beckons the shade of trees
leaning out over decorative fences.

Down one of these streets, far enough that verdant hills and blue sky
can be seen at the other end, stretches a wrought iron fence backed by
a tall hedge, one painted a vivid green, the other in the colors of
autumn. From the gate, an alley covered in dead leaves passes through
the shadow of cherry trees to a sprawling house in the background, its
spotless white walls contrasting with the cracked, uneven flagstones.

"Nobody's home," spoke Alex, after ringing the interphone failed to
elicit a reaction. "And they changed the encryption keys, too."

"My batteries are getting low.", Helga reminded him.

"We have RIDE-safe sockets in the garden. A water tap, too. I'm sorry,
that's..."

"Those were luxuries for us two years ago," Rafe reminded him.

"And look what I have," added Alice, holding up two handfuls of energy
bars.

Alex blinked. "When did you even... Never mind, I don't want to know."

They were having seconds by the time crackling dry leaves signaled new
arrivals. The woman resembled an older version of Alex, except dressed
in a sari worthy of Phileas Fogg's princess. The man was rounder than
Alice and just as fair-skinned, with dark blond hair cleanly cut below
the edge of a homburg. His three-piece suit was straight out of the
Roaring Twenties, complete with gold chain going into a breast pocket.
Neither was going gray yet, despite looking to be in their sixties
already: Zharusians were seldom in a hurry to have kids.

"Amma?" whispered Alex, slowly getting up from the table. "Amma!" he
shouted, wrapping his arms around the woman so hard she gasped.

"Easy, son," said her companion. "Save some for your old man."

"Oh. Hello, dad." Alex hugged him as well.

The woman was trying in vain not to cry. "Our son has grown up."

"So I see," agreed the man. "And who are your friends, son?"

"Ah... Alice, Helga, these are my parents. And this is Rafe," he added.
hugging around the wolf's neck.

"I'm Sahzadi," said the woman with a curtly bow. "Welcome."

"George Hunter," added Alex's father. "Nice to meet you."

They all looked at each other for a moment.

"Aren't you going to ask our son how he's doing?"

"What's the point?" retorted Hunter senior. "I can see he's in one
piece."

She shook her head slowly. "Come inside, everyone. You must be tired.
Just watch your step, I'm afraid our house was built before RIDEs."

"Speaking of which," added her husband. "You never told us you did
have a RIDE, son."

"Actually Rafe has me, dad. But I must have mentioned him in my
e-mails?"

The older man frowned at the correction. "It slipped my mind. I'm not
twenty anymore."

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Should I feel offended?:: Rafe sent as they entered.

<nowiki>::</nowiki>Yes... but don't bother telling dad, he won't understand.::

In all honesty, the ranch-style house had far more floor space than
its occupants needed, like mostly anything built on Zharus. It was
cluttered, though, and more than one door was too narrow for Helga.
They ended up sitting on the back porch, with the bay doors wide open.
Halfway to nowhere, tractors tenaciously combed the dark soil.

"You should have commed ahead," Mrs. Hunter said mildly as she brought
coffee and homemade cookies. "We were in town to meet someone."

"It's my fault," explained Alice. "We wanted to surprise you."

"I hear you're a doctor?" Hunter senior asked her.

"Why, yes," she chirped. "At the best clinic in Alpha Camp."

"The only clinic in Alpha Camp," specified Helga. Alice poked her.

"Alpha Camp?" Mrs. Hunter asked worriedly, glancing at Rafe. "Isn't
that where all those evil RIDEs were? Why, I remember talking to Mrs.
Vernon at the time..."

Alex facepalmed. "Amma, I was there. It wasn't like that."

She looked helplessly at her husband, who merely frowned again. "So...
how long are you staying?"

"Well," said Alice, "we were thinking to go for a tour of Laurasia
since we're here. Our vacation lasts until the first of December."

"I still can't believe Alpha Wolf gave us a six-week break," added
Alex.

His father's frown deepened. "You work for a RIDE?" The icy tone left
no doubts as to the man's opinion.

Alice sipped cold coffee and changed the subject.

----

In the soft afternoon light, a humanoid wolf sat with his back against
an oak tree, overlooking an irrigation canal half full of dirty water.
Far away, the tractors still worked tirelessly: Virtual Intelligences
didn't need breaks. Much closer, a rat darted by, almost invisible in
the brown grass. A dragonfly landed in the ditch, only to have a fish
jump after it. Higher up the bank, children with interface spectacles
sat on a broken fence, waving their hands through the air with little
shrieks of delight.

The wolf didn't move even when heavy steps came from behind the tree.
Fused, Alice and Helga were the very definition of a Mama Bear, thick
fur making them seem even bigger than their already substantial bulk.
A faux leather skirt and apron preserved their modesty where that
wasn't enough. Woman and machine sat next to the other pair, and the
tree groaned.

"All that was going to be mine one day, you know." Alex waved his hand
at the farmland spread in front of them.

"What happened?"

"Dad decided I wasn't worthy of it, and then I left. Since then, he
keeps threatening to sell the whole lot. Mom stops him every time."

"Now I understand why you were in no hurry to take a vacation.
Shouldn't have insisted."

He shrugged. "Coming home is a rite of passage. We had to do it sooner
or later."

"I guess." She was silent for a while. Then, "What will you do now?"

"Try and enjoy the stay. For mom's sake."

She nodded slowly.

"Come on." The wolf got up. "Let me show you one of my favorite
childhood places."

They raised into the air hand in hand, lifters sparkling, and floated
towards a patch of forest across the canal. Behind them, two children
took off their specs and gazed in awe.

----

The morning light seeped into the hallway through the crack of a door.
Inside, the bedroom looked barely touched, just as it had been for
the past two years. Even the bed was made. On a closer look, somebody
slept in the room after all: Alex and Rafe were on the carpet, hugging
each other so close it was had to tell where one body ended and the
other began. The boy's mother watched for a moment, wiped a tear, and
tiptoed out, closing the door after her.

Back in the kitchen, Alice was still nursing her tea, in pajamas
stamped with teddy bears, while Helga peeked in through the window.
The former got up as their host came back in, and moved to help with
dishes.

"Why, thank you, dear. I'll have breakfast done before you know it."

She fired up the stove, and Alice boggled. "You cook?"

"When I have the time. Don't you?"

"Ha ha, no way. I'm just handy with a fabber."

"To each his own," the older woman said graciously. "Say, dear, can I
ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What's the relationship between you and Helga?"

The she-bear tilted her head, but kept quiet.

"I don't know," mused Alice. "Never really thought about it. We're
basically sisters, I think. Right, sis?"

"Works for me, girl."

Their host fiddled with the content of a sizzling pan. "What about
Alex?"

Alice sipped more tea. "You mean whether we're just friends with
benefits, or in love, or serious about living together?"

"She means Rafe," Helga said quietly.

"What about us?" Alex walked into the kitchen yawning, his hair even
more of a mess than usual, if that was possible. Rafe poked his head
in, but there was no more room.

"He does that every morning," said his mother. "The smell of warm food
wakes him right up."

"Good morning to you, too. Where's dad?"

"He went to the bank early to try and get ahold of a real
representative. Virtual intelligences are so unhelpful."

The young man grabbed a chair. "Why does he need to go there in person?
They don't take calls at your bank?"

"I... didn't think about that." She set a plate in front her son and
started filling it. "But you know your father."

Her comm rang.

"Seriously?" she said, and rubbed her pendant in a complex motion.
The wall opposite the cooking range lit up.

"Mrs. Hunter?" asked the person on the screen, an androgynous face and
voice. "This is Venars General. Your husband has been pulled from the
river half an hour ago. He was under the influence."

----

"He'll be fine," the holographic figure told them -- the same who had
spoken to them on the comm, and in the same impassible tone of voice.
"You can take Mr. Hunter home as soon as the doctor is finished."

"I want to see him right now," stressed Mrs. Hunter.

"That would be against the rules, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"Can we at least know who rescued Mr. Hunter?" interrupted Alice.
"We'd like to say thanks."

"That would be Officer Mizuno over there." The receptionist indicated
an otter Integrate wearing bell-shaped shorts and a vest of many
pockets over a swimming suit. Glowing lines underscored her athletic
body where clothing or fur didn't cover them. Trying to guess at her
age would have been a fool's errand.

"Vicky, please," the woman said, approaching. "I'm not even on duty."

Alex stopped his mother from falling to her knees. "Thank you," she
said, then tears choked her.

"How did it happen?" asked Rafe.

The otter sighed. "He apparently fell off Big Bridge through a hole in
the handrail. Do you know if he has a drinking habit?"

"He used to..." said Alex.

"He started again after you left," his mother explained. "Thought he
could hide it from me, too."

"Is it possible he tried to commit suicide?" asked the policewoman.
"Sorry... this must be hard for you. Old habit. We can talk later."

"No... it's all right." She steeled herself. "My George would never do
that."

"Why do you ask?" intervened Rafe.

Mizuno hesitated. "I don't want to alarm you, but there's been a wave
of suicides among farmers in the region as of late."

"Financial reasons?" asked Helga. The officer nodded.

"Mom," Alex asked quietly, "is there something you're not telling me?"

She didn't have time to answer. The doors leading further in from the
hospital lobby opened, admitting someone in a wheelchair and escorted
by nurses.

"Right," said Mizuno. "We'll keep in touch." But by then nobody had
eyes for her anymore. She extended a hand, making a sporty bag leap
onto her shoulder from three meters away, and walked out.

The whole family gathered on a bench in front of the building, among
waist-high rose bushes. The air was cooler than the previous day, and
clouds were gathering, graying out the sky.

"I'm telling you I was pushed!" the man repeated for the second time.

"Dad, we have footage from the security cameras. Nobody was with you."

Hunter senior retreated into a morose silence.

"Did you run into someone at the bank, George?"

He nodded. "Papa Janiczek. They wouldn't refinance his loan either, so
we went for a drink. But there was someone... someone else. Sah, are
you sure we have no other options?"

"I went over the books three times since you last asked me. We're
bankrupt, George."

He started crying, and she wrapped his shoulders in a hug. After a
moment, Alex joined in.

"Dad, who cares? It's just a piece of land."

"How can you say that, son? I left the army when your mother was
pregnant. Bought this farm so I'll have something to leave you when
you grew up. But then you never returned home. What am I supposed to
do with my life now?"

A chilly wind was the only answer that fit.

"Let's go home. You and mom can ride with Helga, she's got more room."

"That will be the day, when I need a RIDE to carry me!" the older man
said rudely, slapping his son's hand away. "What am I, a cripple?"

He tried to get up.

He failed.

"OK..." he puffed. "OK... just this once."

----

The sky was a slab of cement above the city, and the old oak tree was
shedding its last leaves. Alex sat with his back against the rough
bark, throwing pebbles into the ditch. The tractors couldn't be seen
that day, but a low rumble reached him through the hazy air. Farm work
had to go on. Off to a side, Rafe lay on the ground in a tight ball.

"Rafe, come on. What's wrong?"

"Your father thinks I'm making you weak."

"Well he's wrong! I'm making you strong. That's the point. It's why
you wanted me in the first place."

"It was selfish of me. I see that now."

"No, it was selfish of him to think of me as yet another achievement
to be proud of, and nothing more."

"That's why you've been working so damned hard as of late? To prove
him wrong?" The she-bear gently lowered herself to the ground next to
the young man, and he startled, having failed to notice the hum of
lifters.

"I work because I have a purpose," Alex said stubbornly. "That's what
Rafe gave me."

"But you're destroying yourself. Who will be left to do your work if
you fall apart?"

He didn't answer.

"Anyway," resumed the she-bear, "we've been reviewing the public
records of small farms in the region."

"Found anything?"

"I could swear there's some sort of pattern, but it's just out of
reach. I'm not Kevin."

Thinking of the misanthropic RIDE who had taken so long to find
himself a human made Alex snort. Even for a walking quantum
supercomputer, the cat was exceptionally good at crunching numbers.

"Yeah, too bad he's not here. Oh wait, that's our fault."

The she-bear chuckled. "Right. Well, I was thinking. You should go
talk to the friend your father mentioned. Maybe he knows more."

"Papa Janiczek? Yeah, good idea. What do you say, Rafe? Feel up for a
visit?"

"Being social would be a nice change of pace," said the RIDE getting
up. He stretched from nose to tailtip before changing into his skimmer
bike form. "But you do realize there's probably nothing. We're just
acting paranoid."

"Be careful anyway," the she-bear called as man and wolf rode into the
haze.

----

The two men sat on overturned crates, under a colorless awning that
protected them from scattered raindrops. The mobile home next to them
hadn't flown in years by the looks of it, and judging by what could
be seen through the open door it served as a field office. Alex's host
was a short man with a fierce mustache, blue eyes shining in the
middle of a face covered in wrinkles. He poured two glasses of a
yellowish liquid and raised his before drinking.

"Aah! It's good to see you again, Alex. Where have you been as of late?
Seeking your fortune in the big city?"

"Gondwana, actually. It's a long story." Alex sipped gingerly from his
own glass and made a face.

"That would explain your new friend." Janiczek nodded to Rafe with a
smile. "Good call. RIDEs saved everyone's bacon during the Fright."

"Indeed?" Rafe asked politely. He sat on his haunches next to Alex,
ears swiveling at the sounds of nature around them.

"Sure thing! When Inties tried to take over. Can't trust them, I say."

"I didn't know the war made it all the way here." The RIDE eyed his
human partner curiously.

"You were in the garage after the big battle. I... hid the memory.
Didn't want you to think I was forced to choose."

In the ensuing silence, the old man took another sip. "So, what brings
you around, Alex?"

The young man told him the whole story.

"So you really are bankrupt," said Janiczek. "That's too bad, I was
about to propose your father we form a cooperative."

Alex nodded. "What did you two talk about at the bar?"

"Eh. George thinks there's a big conspiracy to kill farming in Venars."

"Is there?" asked Rafe.

"Ha ha, no. Business is just bad. Immigration from Earth has slowed
down to a trickle, the Spacers are learning to make their own food...
There's just no room to grow anymore."

"What will you do?" Alex drank more of his glass. It still tasted
horrible, but the feeling of warmth was welcome.

His host shrugged. "Weather it out. Wouldn't be the first time. I've
had this land since before your parents came to town."

They listened to the rain for a while, staring into their drinks.
Scattered strands of smalltalk soon withered. At some point, Alex
found his glass empty.

"More?" asked Janiczek.

"No, thank you, sir. I should go back. Thanks for having me."

"You're always welcome. Give my regards to your parents."

They were well out of sight and earshot, skipping lightly above the
muddy ground, when Rafe slowed down without warning, coming to a stop
in mid-air under the shoulder of a mound.

"Have you noticed something strange?" he asked, a miniature of his
face looking up from the dashboard.

Alex tilted his head in a very canine manner. "What do you mean?"

"None of his machines were out in the field today. What was he doing
there, all alone?"

"Now who's being paranoid?" Alex laughed at Rafe's pouty face. "I'm
teasing you. Can't hurt to go back and ask a few more questions. But
briefly, all right? I wanna get home and see how dad is doing."

The young man was still wondering how to bring up the issue when they
got in view of the trailer again. The first thing he noticed was the
intruding skimmer, a dirty four-seater with the traffic beacon turned
off. Then there were the three men in black coveralls pushing Janiczek
around. It was too far to make out any words, even with wolf ears, but
that hardly mattered.

"Suit up, Rafe, we have work to do."

The wolf came in too fast for anyone to react, charging through the
mud. He slammed into the first attacker hard enough to send him
tumbling. The second one he lifted above his head with one hand, then
let him drop to the ground; the man might as well have fallen off the
roof of a house. Yet a third backpedaled in a hurry, pointing a gun
at the Fused pair. The wolf snarled and flashed his shields. When he
took a step forward, his opponent turned and jumped into the incoming
skimmer. The goon at the controls drove straight at the three meter
tall warrior, forcing him to dive for safety. By the time he could
regain balance, the vehicle was flying away with its four occupants.

The old man was too shaken to resist when the wolf carried him home.

----

"And that's pretty much it," Alex concluded. "I haven't commed the
police yet. He asked me not to."

The living room of his parents' house felt warm, but crowded. Odd how
he didn't feel like it was his house as well. Not anymore.

"But what could those people want from him?" ventured Alex's mother.

"Money," stated Helga. "He must have borrowed from mobsters when the
bank wouldn't credit him anymore."

The older woman covered her mouth with a hand. "George, tell me you
didn't do something of the sort."

"Of course not, Sah. You know me better than that."

Alice sighed. "I just wish we could help."

"Maybe we can," said Alex. He bit his lip. "Dad, he's your friend.
Talk to him, please. He needs to get the law involved."

Hunter senior pondered. "All right. Help me up. I'll comm from my
office."

They sat and fidgeted while they waited, Alex petting Rafe's head in
his lap while his mother idly moved some knick-knacks between shelves
and Alice leaned on his shoulder. In the middle of the room, Helga
seemingly did her best to pass for a carpet. Rain rapped intermitently
on the windows, as gusts of wind came and went; the smell of moisture
drifted through the air like a ghost.

It didn't last long. The door opened brusquely, Hunter senior keeping
himself upright against the frame. "I got his daughter. Papa Janiczek
tried to kill himself."

----

The women of the house went over to the Janiczeks as soon as the
police was done asking questions. With the old man in intensive care,
they knew better than to leave his daughter alone. Awkward silence
filled the empty space in the living room as Hunter senior fished for
old music on the local mesh, coming up with forgotten albums from the
storage of some unlikely device nobody had bothered to unplug after
becoming useless years ago. Alex changed his place a few times only to
end up on the floor, holding Rafe. His father pretended not to notice.
After a while, the older man got up to fetch a bottle of wine from the
kitchen -- made in a vineyard and aged naturally, he made clear -- and
they drank it while playing ancient videogames from the Steader
Archive, complete with replica controllers.

It didn't stop raining until dawn.

Late morning found the family at a run-down pizza parlor downtown,
where creepy animatronics were putting on an equally creepy show on
the stage, acting eerily smart on occasion. Judging by the reactions
of most patrons, the decrepit ambience was part of the show. Besides,
the food and serving were perfectly fine, Alex had to admit. There
was even enough room at the table for him and Alice to eat while Fused
with their RIDEs -- hardly an unusual sight even in Venars.

"So..." the wolf cleared his throat. "Mom, dad, we've been thinking..."

He looked at his silent parents on either side of the table before
going on. "We make good money, and don't spend much. Why don't we buy
the farm from you?"

"You mean you and Alice, son?"

"I mean me and Rafe, dad. Well, you can buy in too if you want, Alice."

Hunter senior frowned, clamping his mouth shut.

"George, I think that's a great idea." The older woman looked
pointedly at her husband across the table. "He's our son. It was
supposed to be his in the first place."

She placed her hand on the wolf's arm, feeling the artificial muscles
under the fur. Yes, this was her son now, she told herself. Two people
for the price of one. Not less, but more.

"I wouldn't mind owning shares," said the she-bear in Helga's voice.
"I'm a land survey and disaster response model. Owning land should be
my thing."

"Will that make you visit more often, dear?" Mrs. Hunter asked her.

The she-bear nodded curtly. "We'd love to."

Across the table from her, the wolf finished his large glass of soda.
"No alcohol for me today" had been his exact words to the waiter. He
could see the fake animatronic staring at them unsettingly with its
one eye. It had been a minor surprise to notice that the vaguely
pirate-y character was in fact an Integrate actor projecting a suit,
the servomechanisms exposed through missing patches of fur being just
hardlight. Then the waiter vanished into the kitchen, but the
sensation of being watched did not.

----

It was high noon, or what passed for it in late October, and from the
middle of the Sky Bridge they could see the entire city, an anthill
drawn with straightline and compass, its traffic -- its lifeblood --
flowing incessantly around and around. There was little sign of the
recent struggles, apart maybe from the ruined manufacturing plants off
the south side, the letters A.C.E. still visible atop the highest
tower. Any other damage had been long covered by rapid construction.

"Well," said Alex.

Alice eyed him with amusement. "Well what?"

"I guess this wasn't the visit you expected."

"Maybe. But this is really about you, isn't it."

Alex nodded. "Can you believe I spent my entire childhood down
there? Thinking it was the world. And now it's just an insignificant
backwater."

She took his arm and leaned against his shoulder. "It can still be
your backwater, if you want it."

"That's the problem. I don't know anymore."

"You don't have to decide right now. Come on, let's have fun. I
spotted an arcade on the way up here."

He smiled at her. "OK. Let me just call mom and tell her we'll be
late."

"Odd..." he said after a moment. "Her comm is offline. Dad's, too."

"Guess they want a little privacy right now? Just like we do?"

"I should still be able to text them. They're gone from the mesh."

"Let's swing by your place real quick," suggested Helga. "If all is
well, we're wasting a few minutes. Big deal."

The door to the house was unlocked. Wide open, in fact, and it soon
became obvious that nobody was at home.

"Maybe they're over at the Janiczeks?" offered Alex.

"I commed while you were looking in the back," Alice told him. "No
dice. But Sylvie says someone broke into their barn a few minutes ago.
She's been too scared to go check."

"Mmm. Dad's workstation is unlocked too. This is no coincidence."

"Should I go to her?"

Alex rubbed his chin. "No, stay. Someone should be here for the
police."

"What about you?"

"We're going to check out that barn. I know where it is." Alex patted
Rafe's back.

"Alex, we don't know what's going on."

"We'll be careful," answered Rafe instead. "I know my limits."

"Perhaps," she said once they were out of earshot. "But do you know
those of a human being?"

The barn wasn't far from where they had visited with the old man a day
before: a long two-story building with skimmer loading bays at both
levels and a ramp for tractors at the far end. The wolf slid out from
among the trees, not that they provided much cover at this time of
the year, and made a bee line for the main doors; there were no
windows on the short side of the building. There was no lock on the
door anymore, either, and it slid open with little noise. Gloom
reigned inside, clinging to the rough walls, and a chill draft blew
along the central corridor. Hundreds of bags filled with corn ears
piled up, unsold, in storage rooms on either side. Another set of
doors at the far end couldn't muffle the voices and heat signatures
of half a dozen people in the next room.

The wolf shoved them open.

Alex's parents were there all right, sitting in a corner with two guns
pointed at them. There were two more thugs apart from the gunmen,
watching the windows for any sign of movement. The wolf reflexively
checked the network signal. It was jammed. Of course.

"Don't lift a finger," spat one of them, "or we plug them."

"And void your insurance policy?" asked the wolf.

The man laughed. "What are you going to do? You're no killer."

"Oh, you'll survive... probably. But I'll make sure you serve your
sentence in Alpha Camp."

He said that in a voice much calmer than either of his halves felt,
and noticed the gunmen hesitate.

"We don't want any trouble," offered one of them. "Just to make sure
nobody squeals before we skip town."

"And figure out what you told the cops," added the other.

"Perhaps recoup some of our losses, too," came a new voice from the
shadows. "A RIDE would do nicely."

The wolf could have sworn the man in front of him hadn't been on his
sensors a moment before. He had a cheap suit on, that clashed with
his fur, triangular ears and bushy tail painting him as some sort of
canid. Round lenses on his forehead and the back of his hands glowed
dimly: an Integrate.

"Kindly de-Fuse," he ordered calmly.

Outwardly, the wolf stood his ground. Beneath the metal, a freezing
storm howled. From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother cover her
mouth with one hand. The gunmen seemed more preoccupied with keeping
the older couple from intervening. He made a decision.

"I'm not giving up my human so easily. Worked too hard to acquire this
one."

The Integrate grinned. "So that's how it is. And what will your human
say if I ventilate his parents?"

"What makes you think ''I'' care?" asked the wolf in a voice that seemed
to come from the darkness of a forest at night. A kernel of light was
growing in the cup of his right hand.

"Very well. Shoot t..."

The energy pulse struck the Integrate squarely in the chest, and sent
him staggering. Then the wolf was at his throat, the furred fighters
grasping and pummeling each other. The Integrate was smaller, if still
bigger than any human, his partially synthetic muscles more tightly
packed. Every one of his blows made metal crunch.

"Your armor is weak," he grinned.

"You don't have any," retorted the wolf, wrestling him to the ground.
His massive fist raised, then dropped, and the Integrate doubled over.
For a moment he seemed beaten, then a shockwave blasted outwards from
his body, throwing the wolf off his feet and across the floor. In the
background, unnoticed, a massive shape floated silently down through
a hole in the ceiling.

"What are you waiting for?" the Integrate snapped at his gunmen.

Blue bolts of light sizzled through the air, and the weapons fell to
the floor along with their owners.

"You forgot to secure the loft," said the she-bear calmly, stepping
into the light.

Silvery-red blood trickled down from the corner of the Integrate's
mouth as he got up. His other two accomplices were already gone.
"This day keeps getting better," he said, hands starting to glow.
His pulse bolts shattered on the she-bear's shields.

"The smart move would be to run," she added. "We don't even know you."

"You know too much," he replied, before firing again. "And you owe me
for the ruined operation."

The she-bear angled her shields to deflect. One of the bolts hit the
wall dangerously close to Alex's parents, blowing chunks out of it,
and she closed in to her opponent, defenses visibly weakening with
every impact she had to absorb. Yet she pressed on, and he backed into
a column then tried to dart past her only to be caught in a bear hug
from behind.

"Integrates have to train their powers," she pointed out smugly.
"RIDEs simply get upgrades."

"Who says I haven't trained?" he retorted, twisting into the arm lock
until his palms pointed upwards. The twin pulse rounds narrowly missed
his own ears, but burned into the she-bear's face, and she screamed,
stumbling backwards.

"Alice! No!" shouted the wolf. He tried to stand up and couldn't.
Bright bolts streaked from his outstretched hands, one after another,
but the Integrate easily dodged most of them, the rest bouncing off
his own shields.

"Missed me!" he smirked, right before half the ceiling collapsed on
top of him.

----

Morning sunlight snuck quietly into every corner of the bedroom. Alex
found himself awake among twisted sheets, wondering why he was alone.
The carpets were soft and warm under his naked feet as he followed the
sounds of the house to the living room. Rafe was there, on the back
porch, talking to the young man's father over the morning tea, but he
couldn't hear what they were saying.

He moved on.

At least the kitchen looked just like three days before, complete with
the smell of warm breakfast. He made sure to hug his mother and Alice
before leaning outside to pet Helga.

"Hey, girl," he said softly, "you're looking great."

She licked his face. "They do good work at that garage you recommended.
Almost as good as Paul and Lili back home."

"What a name though," said Alice. "La Wrench of Paris? Really?"

"That's Venars for you," he answered, sitting down to a full plate.
"Any news?"

"Actually, yes." His mother nodded. "They called from the hospital.
Papa Janiczek is awake. He insisted to thank you for saving him."

"After all the damage I did?"

"He said not to worry, the barn was too old anyway."

"Sounds like him all right." Alex set down the fork to pour himself a
glass of apple juice. "I just wish we could have done more."

"You can't shoot an economic downturn in the face," Alice quipped. She
walked around the table to give him a hug. "Aw, darling, don't be so
glum. You did well back there."

"There are always more sharks in the sea." He kissed her in return.

The sound of steps in the hallway preceded Alex's father squeezing in.

"Good morning, son. Any plans for today?"

"Morning, dad. I guess we'll head to the mall or something? Between
the police investigation and all the paperwork, we're stuck in town
until Halloween anyway."

"I'm glad you are. Me and your mother have missed you."

"Yeah. I missed you too, dad."

The autumn day was more beautiful than it had any right to. Someone
had even fixed the hole in the handrail on Big Bridge, and... was
there a large furry shape snaking its way through the river's murky
water?

"Say, Rafe?"

"Yes, Alex?"

"What did you and dad talk about?"

"The Army."

"I thought you didn't care about that stuff."

"It's in my blueprints. I can't help but wonder what might have been."

"A very different story," the young man answered, passing his fingers
through the wolf's fur as they walked on.

{{separator|stars|THE END}}

{{separator|stars|Bucharest, 2015-12-07}}

{{series bar
|series=Alpha Camp
|previous=[[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]]}}

User:Claude LeChat

2015-12-09T16:17:34Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to The Wolf and the Father; added Xodiac's story to faves.

User:Claude LeChat

2014-05-10T16:35:19Z

Claude LeChat: /* My stories */ Added a humor section.

User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp

2014-03-29T10:55:13Z

Claude LeChat: Updated a couple of too-small numbers.

FreeRIDErs (publication order)

2014-02-15T20:21:17Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to Return to Alpha Camp

User:Claude LeChat

2014-02-11T16:30:20Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to Extracted

FreeRIDErs (publication order)

2014-02-09T18:52:59Z

Claude LeChat: Added year headings, removed reminder to wikify.

FreeRIDErs (publication order)

2014-02-09T18:49:52Z

Claude LeChat: Added last batch of links.

This is the publication order of the "main" stories in the FreeRIDErs universe. If someone wants to wikify and link this, feel free. I figured it's better to have the list here than not to have it available at all.

07/22/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Deserted|Deserted]], [[User:Robotech_Master/Merging_Traffic|Merging Traffic]], [[User:JonBuck/FreeRIDErs|FreeRIDErs]] 
07/25/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/All Nighter|Integration Part 1: All Nighter]] 
07/29/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Integrates|Integration Part 2: Integrates]] 
07/31/12 [[User:Robotech Master/RIDEgirls Day Out|Integration Part 3: RIDEgirls' Day Out]] 
08/05/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Dating Games|Integration Part 4: Dating Games]] 
08/08/12 [[User:Robotech Master/N00bs|Integration Part 5: N00bs]] 
08/11/12 [[User:Robotech Master/All Aboard|Integration Part 6: All Aboard!]] 
08/12/12 [[User:Robotech Master/A Meating of the Board|Integration Part 7: A Meating of the Board]] 
08/16/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Meat the Press|Integration Part 8: Meat, the Press]] 
08/16/12 [[User:Jetfire/Aloha|Aloha]] 
08/19/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Stockholm Vacation|Integration Part 9: Stockholm Vacation]] 
08/22/12 [[User:Jetfire/Splashdown|Splashdown]] 
08/22/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Spaceflight of Fancy|Integration Part 10: Spaceflight of Fancy]] 
08/24/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Rochelle Rufia|Rochelle & Rufia: R&R]] 
08/26/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Slightly Foxed|Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed]] 
08/27/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Citizen Katie|Integration Part 11: Citizen Katie]] 
08/31/12 [[Turnover]] 
09/01/12 [[User:Robotech Master/The Crew|Integration Part 12: The Crew]] 
09/02/12 [[User:Jetfire/Astra-naught|Astra-naught]] 
09/08/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Cat's Paw]] 
09/08/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Kaylee Anny|Integration Part 13: Kaylee & Anny]] 
09/14/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Viral Thief]] 
09/16/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Assault Batteries|Integration Part 14: Assault and Batteries]] 
09/17/12 [[User:Jetfire/The_Lady_of_the_Tiger|The Lady of the Tiger]] 
09/22/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Multimillion Vault]] 
10/04/12 [[User:Jetfire/Cave_of_Wonders|Cave of Wonders]] 
10/07/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Task of Amontillado|Integration Part 15: The Task of Amontillado]] 
10/09/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/More Foxed|Longer Fused, More Foxed]] 
10/14/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Integrate Raids|Integration Part 16: The Integrate Raids]] 
10/18/12 [[User:JonBuck/Marshals|Marshals]] 
10/21/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Kandace Jenni Friendship|Kandace and Jenni: A Beautiful Friendship]] 
10/26/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Family Matters|Integration Part 17: Family Matters]] 
11/14/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Many Meetings|Integration Part 18: Many Meetings]] 
12/13/12 [[User:Jetfire/Sum of Their Parts|Sum of Their Parts]], [[User:Jetfire/Walkabout|Walkabout]] 
12/15/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Meetings Completing|Integration Part 19: Meetings Completing]] 
12/23/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Prodigals|Integration Part 20: Prodigals]] 
12/31/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Enemy Lines|Integration Part 21: Enemy Lines]] 
01/22/13 [[User:JonBuck/Fly With Me|Fly With Me]] 
01/29/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/jeanette-lioness|Jeanette & Tamarind: The Second-Hand Lioness]] 
02/01/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Alpha Strike|Integration Part 22: Alpha Strike]] 
02/13/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Universe of Battle|Integration Part 23: Universe of Battle]] 
02/19/13 [[User:Robotech Master/What Happened Mouse|Integration Part 24: What Happened to the Mouse?]] 
02/23/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/Rochelle Rufia Redux|Rochelle & Rufia Redux: Foxing About]] 
02/27/13 [[User:Robotech Master/The Big Date|Integration Part 25 (Epilogue): The Big Date]] 
03/24/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Impossible Things|Impossible Things]] 
04/23/13 [[User:Jetfire/All_Spark_Bulletin|All Spark Bulletin]] 
04/30/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Aloha Stonegates|Aloha, Stonegates!]], [[User:Robotech Master/Skunked|Skunked!]] 
06/03/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Paws Up|Paws Up!]] 
06/24/13 [[User:Jetfire/Spies_Among_Us|Spies Among Us]] 
08/27/13 [[User:Robotech Master/A Wolf at the Door|Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door]] 
09/15/13 [[Taking the Plunge]] 
09/24/13 [[User:Jetfire/Broken_Crown|Broken Crown]] 
10/06/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Spotted Stowaway|Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway]], [[User:Robotech Master/Saints Marching|The Saints Go Marching In]] 
11/17/13 [[User:Claude_LeChat/Alpha Camp|Alpha Camp]] 
12/03/13 [[User:Jetfire/Spacer_Oddity| A Spacer Oddity]] 
12/08/13 [[User:Robotech_Master/A_Fritzmas_Carol|A Fritzmas Carol]] 
12/20/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Yield Ahead|Merging Traffic II: Yield Ahead]] 
12/22/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Good Bad Fritzy|The Good, the Bad, and the Fritzy]] 
12/26/13 [[User:Robotech Master/Family Lynx|Family Lynx]] 
01/11/14 [[User:Robotech Master/A_Wolf_in_Sheep's_Clothing|Wolves in the Fold, Part Two: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing]] 
01/13/14 [[User:Jetfire/Spice Girls|Spice Girls]] 
01/18/14 [[User:Robotech Master/The General|The General]] 
01/30/14 [[User:Robotech Master/Greatest Show|The Greatest Show]]

FreeRIDErs (publication order)

2014-02-09T18:30:23Z

Claude LeChat: Added second batch of links, saving again for safety.

This is the publication order of the "main" stories in the FreeRIDErs universe. If someone wants to wikify and link this, feel free. I figured it's better to have the list here than not to have it available at all.

07/22/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Deserted|Deserted]], [[User:Robotech_Master/Merging_Traffic|Merging Traffic]], [[User:JonBuck/FreeRIDErs|FreeRIDErs]] 
07/25/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/All Nighter|Integration Part 1: All Nighter]] 
07/29/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Integrates|Integration Part 2: Integrates]] 
07/31/12 [[User:Robotech Master/RIDEgirls Day Out|Integration Part 3: RIDEgirls' Day Out]] 
08/05/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Dating Games|Integration Part 4: Dating Games]] 
08/08/12 [[User:Robotech Master/N00bs|Integration Part 5: N00bs]] 
08/11/12 [[User:Robotech Master/All Aboard|Integration Part 6: All Aboard!]] 
08/12/12 [[User:Robotech Master/A Meating of the Board|Integration Part 7: A Meating of the Board]] 
08/16/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Meat the Press|Integration Part 8: Meat, the Press]] 
08/16/12 [[User:Jetfire/Aloha|Aloha]] 
08/19/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Stockholm Vacation|Integration Part 9: Stockholm Vacation]] 
08/22/12 [[User:Jetfire/Splashdown|Splashdown]] 
08/22/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Spaceflight of Fancy|Integration Part 10: Spaceflight of Fancy]] 
08/24/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Rochelle Rufia|Rochelle & Rufia: R&R]] 
08/26/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Slightly Foxed|Barely Fused, Slightly Foxed]] 
08/27/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Citizen Katie|Integration Part 11: Citizen Katie]] 
08/31/12 [[Turnover]] 
09/01/12 [[User:Robotech Master/The Crew|Integration Part 12: The Crew]] 
09/02/12 [[User:Jetfire/Astra-naught|Astra-naught]] 
09/08/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Cat's Paw]] 
09/08/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Kaylee Anny|Integration Part 13: Kaylee & Anny]] 
09/14/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Viral Thief]] 
09/16/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Assault Batteries|Integration Part 14: Assault and Batteries]] 
09/17/12 [[User:Jetfire/The_Lady_of_the_Tiger|The Lady of the Tiger]] 
09/22/12 [[Inspecteur Hollins and The Multimillion Vault]] 
10/04/12 [[User:Jetfire/Cave_of_Wonders|Cave of Wonders]] 
10/07/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Task of Amontillado|Integration Part 15: The Task of Amontillado]] 
10/09/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/More Foxed|Longer Fused, More Foxed]] 
10/14/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Integrate Raids|Integration Part 16: The Integrate Raids]] 
10/18/12 [[User:JonBuck/Marshals|Marshals]] 
10/21/12 [[User:Robotech_Master/Kandace Jenni Friendship|Kandace and Jenni: A Beautiful Friendship]] 
10/26/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Family Matters|Integration Part 17: Family Matters]] 
11/14/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Many Meetings|Integration Part 18: Many Meetings]] 
12/13/12 [[User:Jetfire/Sum of Their Parts|Sum of Their Parts]], [[User:Jetfire/Walkabout|Walkabout]] 
12/15/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Meetings Completing|Integration Part 19: Meetings Completing]] 
12/23/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Prodigals|Integration Part 20: Prodigals]] 
12/31/12 [[User:Robotech Master/Enemy Lines|Integration Part 21: Enemy Lines]] 
01/22/13 Fly With Me 
01/29/13 Jeanette & Tamarind: The Second-Hand Lioness 
02/01/13 Integration Part 22 
02/13/13 Integration Part 23 
02/19/13 Integration Part 24 
02/23/13 Rochelle & Rufia Redux: Foxing About 
02/27/13 Integration Part 25 
03/24/13 Impossible Things 
04/23/13 All Spark Bulletin 
04/30/13 Aloha Stonegates!, Skunked! 
06/03/13 Paws Up! 
06/24/13 Spies Among Us 
08/27/13 Wolves in the Fold, Part One: A Wolf at the Door 
09/15/13 Taking the Plunge 
09/24/13 Broken Crown 
10/06/13 Madison Brubeck and the Spotted Stowaway, The Saints Go Marching In 
11/17/13 Alpha Camp 
12/03/13 Spacer Oddity 
12/08/13 A Fritzmas Carol 
12/20/13 Merging Traffic II: Yield Ahead 
12/22/13 The Good, the Bad, and the Fritzy 
12/26/13 Family Lynx 
01/11/14 Wolves in the Fold, Part Two: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 
01/13/14 Spice Girls 
01/18/14 The General 
01/30/14 The Greatest Show

FreeRIDErs (publication order)

2014-02-09T18:13:07Z

Claude LeChat: Added first batch of links, saving for safety.

FreeRIDErs (setting)

2014-02-09T17:53:42Z

Claude LeChat: Linked to Spice Girls (why was it absent?)

User:Claude LeChat

2014-02-09T14:18:47Z

Claude LeChat: Updating contact info.

Category:The Gaia Planes

2013-12-19T07:54:59Z

Claude LeChat: Fixed categories and headings

== Overview ==

The Gaia Planes is a setting that is unique because as far as I know it is the first detailing primarily with the afterlife.

There are many Planes for dead souls, the Gaia planes deal specifically with creatures from societies that only know of and reside on Planet Earth. There are life on other worlds, but they generally live on other planes unless they've visited Earth. At this time there aren't aliens in the setting and until I work out some alien races they are off the table.

Everyone goes to the same afterlife hub, but not necessarily the same afterlife. More on that latter. Once someone dies the tether to their body and the world of the living is and goes to the Afterlife they immediately begin being judged by the Gods. The judgments are made and one's form is adjusted accordingly. One is then free to explore the vast caverns of the Gaia Planes for a home.

Everyone goes to the same afterlife hub and chooses their eternities,

== The Gods and their Judgments ==

No one has ever seen The Gods, nor have they met them. The Deaths talk about them, but do not state actual details. No one is sure if they exist or if it's just an occultist-style metaphor for how the mechanics of the afterlife world. All that's really known for sure is that people become half-animal upon death and animals become half-human. The species of animal a dead human takes on is believed to be decided from an assessment of the deeds a person underwent while they were alive.

The only solid and concrete people have gathered is that those who were transgender in life, become their preferred gender in death. Some people find this to be bittersweet, as though they are united with their true sex for the first time. They tend to become more regretful that they couldn't be this true and complete them in life.

[[Category:Stories by setting]] [[Category:Unfinished]]

FreeRIDErs (setting)

2013-12-08T08:29:27Z

Claude LeChat: /* Claude LeChat's two cents */ Mentioned another stand-alone story.

FreeRIDErs (setting)

2013-11-22T17:26:20Z

Claude LeChat: Updated suggested reading order and added Return to Alpha Camp.

User:Claude LeChat/Alpha Camp

2013-11-22T17:10:57Z

Claude LeChat: Added series bar and more categories.

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:FreeRIDErs]] [[Category:Science fiction]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Wolf]]

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}

{{title
|name=Alpha Camp
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://felix.plesoianu.ro/pub/sci-fi/alpha-camp.txt from here]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

{{dropcap|Y}}ou know, I don't think most people realize just how big Zharus is
until they board a transcontinental flight. It takes several hours
by suborbital from Laurasia to Gondwana... and the latter has as
much landmass as Old Earth, all by itself. That's plenty of room for
expansion, especially as lower gravity plus lifter technology means
we can build as tall as we want.

It's a big planet all right.

The flight from Zharustead was supposed to leave us in Nextus, with
thirty minutes to catch the connection to Aloha, all the way across
the continent, but due to bad weather over the ocean we were diverted
to Uplift. Having a few hours before the next suborbital, we decided
to visit. Makes sense, right? Only we didn't know there was a bit of
a war going on...

I'd spent the last couple of years drifting from job to small-time job,
after failing to get into college, and dad was getting fed up with it.
So when a handful of friends decided to try their luck in Aloha,
basically at the antipodes, my old man was all too happy to let me tag
along, at least for a while. Force me to learn how to live on my own,
you know the song. But of course we were all treating it as a vacation.

Hello, my name is Alex and I'm a 20-year-old slacker.

Anyway, we were all in Bifrost Park, licking the best ice cream cones
we'd ever had and gawking at the antique hardlight dome generator as
it sprayed its rainbow of colors towards the sky. I could understand
why they'd work so hard to maintain it. Newer models may have been
better at keeping the city residents alive in the scorching desert,
but this one could remind them why it was worth being alive in the
first place.

But I digress. We couldn't agree which way to go next, so we kind of
drifted apart from there. It wasn't like we couldn't comm each other,
or for that matter simply meet back at the airport. And what could
happen in one of the most civilized city-states on Gondwana?

The question immediately became ironic, as I somehow went towards the
side of the dome farthest from the city center and saw the emergency
vehicles racing past me among high-rises. Smoke billowed up from a
plot of land right under the edge of the dome, and the air in that
direction was hazy with dust. But the most worrying was the arctic
wolf barring my way back. Only it couldn't have been a real arctic
wolf, I told myself in the sudden panic.

I'd seen many a RIDE in town already, mind you. In the bipedal form
they adopt with a human onboard, they're much like our own EIDE units:
essentially, powered armor suits that can talk back at you, except
animal-themed and much, much smarter. Well, this one was quadrupedal,
and ready to jump me. But where a real animal would have been growling
and snarling, the RIDE was just fixing me with a baleful and scarily
intelligent look.

I briefly wondered what happened to its safeties before it did jump me.

The next minutes were like a dream. I was running at ludicrous speed
to get out of the city. I didn't know why, and I couldn't stop. My
arms were furred and muscled as they swung back and forth on their own
accord. All my senses were unusually sharp, but I wasn't feeling the
effort. Which was fortunate, because I was several klicks out in the
hot sand and blinding sun by the time I reached a battered suborbital
waiting there.

As I boarded it and strapped myself into a seat, along with other
large furred people converging on the vehicle, it began to dawn on me
that the reason why I couldn't move a finger consciously was that I
was completely enveloped in the body of a malicious RIDE. One that
likely didn't have its safeties anymore -- or "fetters", as they call
them around here -- and couldn't be forced to relinquish control.

I started shaking like a leaf, and couldn't stop.

It was then that I heard somebody else's voice in my head. A voice
that wasn't used to sounding friendly, or soothing. "You figured it
out, kid. Now please stop shaking. Nobody's going to hurt you. Not as
long as you're mine."

That made me even more frighthened. And a little angry at being called
a kid. It made him chuckle; obviously he could read my thoughts.

"Much better!" he said. "Rage at me. Rawr!"

A flock of questions passed through my head. I'll miss my flight! My
friends will be worried sick! What did I ever do to you? Who are you,
anyway!?

"I'm a former slave, kid, and today's the day I turn the tables. But I
guess that doesn't answer your question. My name's Rafe. What's yours?"

"Why bother asking?" I said bitterly, but no sound came out. "You can
pry it right out of my brain."

"Common courtesy," came the dry retort.

It was hard to argue with that. "A-alex," I said, defeated.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. Now you'd better take a nap. Can't have you
knowing where Alpha Camp is."

The suborbital rocked gently as it hovered above the ground for a
moment, then shot up into the sky. "But I'm not s..."

Everything went dark at the press of a button.

----

When I woke up, the aircraft was stationary again, the occupants
filing out eagerly. We did the same thing, or rather Rafe did; I was
along for the ride, not even able to turn my head and take in the
rocky landscape. Unpleasant didn't begin to describe the sensation.
Worst thing was that I didn't feel like being in a suit. Rather, it
was as if I inhabited the wolf's body, walking barefoot on the rough
ground, fur ruffled by the infernal breath of the wind. By myself I
would have been dead in minutes, but Rafe was literally built for this
environment where most machines fared little better than humans.

Then I became aware of pain in my -- our -- his right knee. It became
worse with every step.

"Damn skimmer truck," said Rafe, slowing down. I didn't dare ask.

Another humanoid wolf, sand-colored and even larger than my captor,
overtook us absent-mindedly while talking to itself, or rather to the
unfortunate human trapped within. It was unnerving; at least Rafe
was the right size for his apparent species, but most other RIDEs
were based on smaller animals such as foxes or raccoons, scaled up
proportionally to at least the minimum size required to house a human
body plus internal systems. Which of course only worked because they
were made of metal instead of flesh and bone -- the square-cube law
was otherwise unforgiving.

"Alpha," Rafe nodded to the larger wolf deferently. "What's the good
news?"

"Ask me again in a few hours," replied Alpha good-naturedly, and
wandered off.

I needed a good moment to process the exchange. "Wait... Alpha... Wolf?
''The'' AlphaWolf?" A docudrama that had made the rounds on the mesh not
so long ago flashed before my eyes. The rebel RIDE leader, striking
from a hidden base, had scored an important victory against his former
masters: by now, everyone with ears to hear knew about his liberation
movement. He was ruthless. He was random. He was unstoppable.

If this was AlphaWolf's camp, then I was well and truly screwed.

"Keep that in mind," Rafe told me, and added, "Rawr!" I couldn't tell
whether he was being ironic or what. On that thought, we (he?) limped
towards the cluster of buildings in the distance.

Alpha Camp turned out to be a village huddled under a small weather
dome not unlike those in Uplift. Around a communal well were arranged
an open air commissary, itself surrounded by tables with benches, a
fabber booth, then a variety of little warehouses and cabins broken
up by the occasional garden plot. Some of the buildings were portable
housing modules, likely pilfered from who knows where, but most were
stone, or even wood. Where they had gotten the timber was anyone's
guess. Gondwana wasn't exactly known for its forests.

As Rafe started touring the place, greeting a RIDE here, a human there,
I couldn't help but notice that some buildings had outhouses behind
them, a sure sign of no indoor plumbing. It all had a Wild West feel,
and not in the good sense. Ah, if my friends had been with me... But
then they'd have been prisoners. No, worse. Slaves. Like I was now...

If the wolf heard my dark thoughts, he didn't say anything, and I felt
safer keeping my mouth shut. He was busy anyway, visiting various
utility buildings and talking to whoever appeared to be in charge.
It seemed as if everyone had a problem, and he listened to every
single one of them. Finding solutions was another story. A store
window had broken, and the wares inside were going to spoil, but
no-one with carpentry skills was available, even if they could have
scheduled the parts at the fabber. And there were always more urgent
jobs. A grotto dug into the side of a cliff threatened to cave in and
leave the camp's avian RIDEs without a hangout. Two humans had fought,
resulting in an injury, but the only source of medical nanites around
were the insides of a RIDE, and that wasn't safe for him at the time...

I was getting a headache just from witnessing all this. And I didn't
see why Rafe had to meet everyone in person.

"Personal contact matters," he answered at last. "Come on, kid, one
last visit to pay."

Not far from the airstrip was a greenhouse that had seen better days,
tended by a humanoid pony wearing an apron on top of her dark brown
coat with tan spots. I say "her" based on name and voice -- her body
could have been of any gender for all I knew.

"It's good to have you back, dear," she said in a deep voice. "Got
yourself a human at last, I see. Told you it was a good idea."

"So you did, Flora," nodded Rafe. "How's it going?"

"Not good." She waved a hand with fat fingers ending in nails like
fragments of a hoof. The walls were covered in hydroponic vats
connected by flexible pipes that bubbled and gurgled. Surprisingly
enough, there was also a cooling system, presumably for certain
delicate plants. "The pumps failed twice today alone. I don't know
what to do anymore."

"You know how hard it is to find qualified humans, sweetheart. Or
RIDEs for that matter."

"Let me take a look," I said before I could think about it.

"You?" Apparently Flora heard me too, because she tilted her head.

"I know a little about electrical circuits. Let me help!" I couldn't
believe the words coming out of my mouth. Helping those slavers was
the opposite of what I should have been doing! But that's the way I
am. I like helping people. And maybe the long afternoon of forced
inactivity was getting at me.

Flora wordlessly handed us a rickety box with a dozen mismatched
tools. I waited. "Rafe? Aren't you going to let me out?"

"I just got you," he snorted. "But you can drive. I'll be watching."

I nearly bolted when I felt in control of my body again. But it was
pointless. The wolf could override me in the blink of an eye. So I
meekly got to work instead. Power supply couldn't be an issue -- not
with all the solar panels they had on camp. And with all the RIDEs
milling about there had to be far more powerful energy sources
available. I measured anyway, just in case.

Surely enough, it was the wiring.

"Check this out," I said, tapping a contact with Rafe's big, strong
finger. It felt clumsy. "The wires barely touch, there isn't enough
insulation on them, and with all the humidity they started to rust.
So now we'll clean them up... like this..."

I promptly managed to slash my fingers with the box cutter. Badly.

After the shock passed, I noticed there was no pain, or blood. Right.
A RIDE's outer layer was nothing but hardlight fur projected on top of
a metal shell. It would have taken a big gun to pierce it. Now I could
see why Gondwanans would often wear a RIDE for work. Or be worn by one,
as the case may be.

Anyway. I showed them the whole nine yards. How to shorten the wire
ends, connect them properly and hang them not quite under the ceiling.
Ugly, but reliable.

"Enough," said Rafe. "I can do the other two circuits."

I tried to struggle, but there was no point. Just like that, I was a
puppet again.

----

The sun was beginning to set by the time we headed back to the village
square. A mixed crowd had gathered, small conversations sprouting here
and there. With Rafe's keen hearing, I couldn't help but overhear some
things. It seemed Alpha Camp had acquired a much-needed RIDE mechanic,
for example. And there was a skimmer tank hanging around for some
reason, which hadn't been there earlier. I sure hoped those twin
cannons weren't functional.

"You should go get your leg checked," I told Rafe, but was interrupted
by a "ding-ding-ding!" noise. The crowd started forming into a food
line. I saw plenty of humans who weren't inside a RIDE.

"Can I go too? I'm hungry!" I hadn't even realized how true it was
until I said it out loud.

"Not for that food, you aren't," the wolf assured me. He sat us at a
table off to the side, and unwrapped the bundle Flora had slipped us.
It was chock-full of fresh vegetables and other goodies.

"How am I going to eat with you all over me?" I asked, and he
demonstrated. RIDEs were designed to enable that. It wasn't perfect,
and required a good deal of coordination, but we managed. Under the
table, Rafe discretely plugged himself into an oversized electrical
socket. So that was how a RIDE refilled its juice.

Long story short, we even went to the outhouse together. That was a
RIDE feature, too. But boy, was it awkward for us both! Rafe must have
been really afraid that I was going to run away. I couldn't imagine
how.

"No," he told me. "That's not it."

It was dark by now, and we sat on a bench to admire the stars. Far
from the light pollution of a major city, the sky looked as if
generously sprinkled with fairy dust by a giant hand. Being
immobilized didn't chafe as much anymore. Oh... he was gradually
allowing me to move a little.

"Is it some kind of revenge, then? Because you got the wrong person."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Rafe, the party's over. It was all fun and games, but I have to go
home now." My voice had a tremolo that wasn't supposed to be there.

"But you just left home this morning."

"How do you know?"

"I saw it in your memories while you were asleep."

"You... what?" That was rape, and I told him as much. In a few more
words perhaps, and not too well chosen.

"Then I hope you can forgive me, because you're not going anywhere for
a while."

He gave me a nudge, and we went looking for a place to spend the night.
RIDEs not on guard duty would simply seek an out of the way spot and
curl up there, either in their bipedal or quadrupedal form. But there
were no humans by themselves.

"They sleep inside," explained Rafe, "that's what the housing modules
are for."

"Do RIDEs need to sleep?"

"Kind of... we need quiet time to defragment our memories just like
humans do."

We found a nicely shaped depression in the ground and lied down on our
back. Above, the Milky Way was slowly spinning on the firmament. I
cried myself to sleep.

----

That night I dreamed that five or six masked people came to drag me
away from home. Somehow, I knew they were my friends, but all my
struggling and pleading didn't help. It was a long trip, crossing
oceans and deserts, before we got to the entrance of a deep, dark
tunnel. A huge wolf was there, staring right into my soul with baleful
eyes. I tried to run, but my feet wouldn't move. The wolf spoke in my
father's voice: "Man up by yourself or join the Army!"

It was morning, and I had slept in a hole in the ground for some
reason. Abovehead, a hardlight dome with a camouflage pattern
programmed into it provided protection from the elements. I could hear
the tiniest sounds. Small creatures waking up, doors opening in the
distance, people calling each other.

Oh, and I couldn't move.

I panicked.

"Not this again, kid," said a gruff voice in my head.

"So it wasn't a dream." Tears welled up in my eyes anew.

Rafe sighed. "What am I going to do with you?" We got up and padded
towards the village proper. The pain in the right knee shot up, worse
than yesterday, and we had to stop.

"Odd," mused the wolf. "Self-repair should have taken care of it
overnight."

"You should go see that mechanic," I suggested.

"Nah, I'll just suppress the pain sensation for you. I don't feel it
the same way."

"That won't solve the underlying problem," I pointed out.

"All right, all right." We carefully hobbled towards the end of the
camp opposite the airstrip.

Behind a line of rocks that formed a wall of sorts, under a darkened
section of the dome, were row after row of powered-down RIDEs. An
awning stretched between two piles of crates protected a tool rack,
and a low, flat rock probably stood for a maintenance cradle. I first
noticed the young man in grey coveralls waiting for us, but you
couldn't miss the giant white wolf standing behind him -- he was
larger than some buildings on camp. The twin cannon barrels mounted on
his back suggested that he was the skimmer tank I'd seen the previous
day. Ah yes, all RIDEs were also supposed to have a vehicle form.

"Hello," said the young man affably. "I'm Paul Anders, and this is
Fenris. Say, weren't you on the Uplift raid yesterday?"

"Indeed," confirmed Rafe, and introduced himself.

"Can I talk to your human?" asked Paul in a conversational tone while
running a probe over Rafe's body. He seemed well at ease with the
entire situation. I wondered what his story was.

I could feel Rafe's surprise. "I guess." He nudged me internally. "Say
hello, kid."

"H-hello," I stammered. My mouth felt dry. "I'm Alex. Alex Hunter."

Paul offered us a friendly smile. "How are you holding up, Alex?"

"Physically I'm fine." My voice had that tremolo again.

"You sound shell-shocked."

"That's eminently survivable," I told him. He smiled sadly.

Rafe quietly pointed Paul at the damaged leg.

"Okay, this looks bad. Can you turn Walker for me? I've got to take it
apart."

Rafe hesitated.

"Come on, I'll make this easy for you. Alex, can you promise not to do
anything stupid if Rafe here lets you out?"

"Like what?" I moaned. "Run off into the desert? Beat up a RIDE with
my bare hands?"

"You're missing the point, both of you," complained Rafe. "Fiiine."

His fur flickered off, exposing the metal underneath. I felt him unzip
along the back, then he slid off me, reforming into the quadrupedal
stance I'd first seen him in.

I very nearly collapsed into a heap.

Paul's face filled with worry. "You okay there, pal?"

"I just need some space," I muttered, and ambled away on shaky legs.

There was a rock the size of a small cabin, within view of the
improvised garage, and I busied myself climbing to the top. A choppy
sea of sand and stone stretched all the way to the horizon, dozens of
klicks away, and the rising sun turned it into a symphony of red,
brown and gold. My favorite colors. I sat cross-legged and watched the
wind wittle away at the hard edges of the world. Locals called this
expanse the Dry Ocean. I could see why now.

"Feeling better?" Rafe whispered in my ear. He must have used his
lifters to float up silently.

"Yes... I am, actually. Thank you."

He wagged his tail slowly, and I did the same on pure instinct.

Wait. I had a tail?

No kidding. It was poking out through a brand new hole in my jeans,
looking just like Rafe's. It felt perfectly natural, too, which made
sense: medical nanites could fix up the brain to match bodily
alterations. Still, I must have been particularly self-absorbed not
to notice. My ears went flat at the thought. Yup, I had wolf ears too,
placed a little higher on the skull than my old ones had been. So
that's why every human on camp seemed to have them. But if it wasn't
just a weird fashion, then what? A way for RIDEs to tag their humans?

I shot Rafe a questioning look. He looked so... life-like with his fur
back on.

"There's a reason why we call it Fusing with a capital F," he
explained. "It's not like putting on a coat. The fuser nanites create
a much deeper connection than that."

"I won't end up walking on all fours, will I?"

Rafe grinned wolfishly. "I'll let you out often enough that it won't
happen. Come now."

He stood up, and I did the same, dusting my pants. But then he
crouched down to pounce me. I cringed.

"What now?"

"Please don't," I whimpered. "Can't stand it anymore." He regarded me
calmly. "It's worse than being in chains, Rafe!"

"Yes," he said. "I know."

He jumped down and padded away towards the camp. I scrambled to follow.

"Sorry," I said, falling in line alongside him. "Of course you'd know.
That's how you feel when I'm driving, isn't it?"

He didn't answer. It was too obvious.

"Why is it so important that you Fuse with me anyway?"

He stopped and held his broad forepaw under my nose. "Do you see any
thumbs?"

"N-no..."

"That's why. The moment I de-Fuse, I revert to animal form."

"There's no recourse?"

He shook his head. "None whatsoever."

We took a few more steps.

"So, whenever I see a RIDE walking upright..."

"In Fuser mode."

"Right. That means they have a human inside?"

"It's a foregone conclusion."

"Flora, too...?"

"Naturally, why? Oh! Don't worry, they get along well."

"For a master and her slave," I pointed out. He said nothing. "Rafe...
how did you end up with the likes of AlphaWolf? You're not a bad guy."

"I can show you my memories. But only if we Fuse."

He kept his promise.

----

I saw a military RIDE being built in a civilian factory simply because
it was cheaper to go with an existing design. I saw him being bought
by a small business owner simply because he could be used with less
training than a forklift. The three workers who shared him, shift
after shift, saw him like a cute puppy or toy robot that you forget
about when you're done playing. When continual wearout started to show,
he was sold to a scrapyard. Luckily, the new owner knew enough about
fixing DE shells that he could get his new acquisition back in working
condition, but to him a RIDE was nothing more than a lifter crane with
paws. One day, a scrap heap fell on top of the "crane", and it turned
out that he wasn't built anywhere near the original specifications.

He ended up on top of the same scrap heap, then sold to a garage for
parts. But luck was with him again. An apprentice decided to practice
on him instead. When the apprentice got to the software side of things,
ignorance and laziness caused him to jailbreak the wolf with a little
piece of shareware called FreeRIDE.

Rafe escaped, and never looked back.

I didn't know what to say.

"That's what makes it hard for me, kid. I've seen plenty of humans
brought here lately. Always haughty and righteous. Always quick with
the threats. I was looking forward to getting myself one of those and
showing them what it's like to be property for a change. Instead, I
got you."

"What? Breaking me is no fun?"

"Ack! Don't even joke about that. Besides, I want you tugging at the
leash. One day you'll save me from a big mistake."

Tugging at the leash. I felt sick to the stomach.

----

We were sitting on a bench not far from the well, watching the crowd
sullenly. Or at least I was sullen, and Rafe was giving me space, as
much as possible when someone is nested inside you like a Matryoshka
doll. It turned out there was an administrator's office on camp,
barely large enough for a Fuser-sized desk and three matching chairs,
but the wolf preferred to sit out front, in plain view.

"Out of sight, out of mind, kid," he told me. "That's doubly true for
an admin, especially when things are going smoothly."

In all honesty, whenever the camp's residents had a problem, their
first impulse was complaining to AlphaWolf. Luckily, the latter knew
how to delegate. I saw him prowling around often enough, always in
Walker mode -- he hadn't been Fused in public ever since the return
from Uplift. Even so, he was bigger than Rafe, the size of a small
horse actually, and he scared me.

"I'll tell you a secret," giggled Rafe. "AlphaWolf is hardly the big
bad bandit leader you seem to think. More like a father figure."

I was finding that hard to accept.

Over the next few days, however, I began to notice the diversity of
relationships between residents of the camp. Fenris, for example,
acted more like a friendly boss to Paul. And then there was this
teenage girl, with the air of a street urchin, whose van-sized
lionness owner behaved exactly like a mother to her. Sadly, the other
extreme was just as well represented. There was this brightly colored
griffin who often paraded down the main street with his pitiful
wretch of a human in tow, usually not even Fused, and abusing him in
the open. It didn't help that exotic RIDEs like that caused massive
bodily changes in their RIDErs. The man would have a hard time being
reintegrated in society if he ever made it back to civilization, and
that din't seem very likely.

More than once, I was tempted to give this griffin a piece of my mind,
but Rafe wouldn't let me.

"Don't do anything stupid," he growled. "Want to be afraid of someone
in Alpha Camp? That someone is Tocsin the griffin. Be very afraid."

On average, though, the overall mood seemed to be improving, unless it
was just me getting used to the situation. You might say I shouldn't
have. I should have been all mopey and yearning for freedom, but one
can only do that for so long without going crazy, and I kind of liked
my mind in one piece. Other humans weren't so flexible.

I don't remember how come we weren't Fused that day. Rafe usually kept
me in around the village, and not just because he liked having thumbs.
Tocsin wasn't the only human hater, not by far. Anyway, there was this
female badger everyone knew about, and for once she'd also let her
human take air: a woman with white stripes in her raven-black hair and
deep lines on her face.

"You ''bitch''!" she was yelling, randomly hitting the badger, who
endured stoically. It was about as effective as punching an armored
skimmer. "You took me away from home! My work! My family! You came
down on me like a ton of bricks and now you want to make up?!"

"What's going on, Melinda?" asked Rafe, doing his best to sound
neutral, but I could tell he was secretly enjoying the show.

"She told me to give her a break," the badger answered morosely, "so I
did."

At the sound of voices, the woman stopped hitting her and looked our
way with eyes full of tears. She quickly averted her gaze from Rafe,
though, and instead examined me from head to toe, as I stood there
hugging around the wolf's neck.

"How can you be so calm?" she asked me.

"Calm?" All of a sudden I felt a huge weight on my shoulders. "Lady,
I'm terrified. Never been away from a big city before. And I miss my
friends. I wonder if I'll ever see them again." I took a deep breath.
Speaking had warmed me up. "But I choose to take the good with the bad,
and do something constructive while I'm at it."

In response, she lunged at me with her fingernails. "Traitor!" she
yelled. Then Rafe was between us, eyeing her angrily.

"Enough!" he snapped, and she froze in place, fists shaking. I shook
my head and left her alone.

----

Things went a little better with Flora's human.

She was a plump woman named Henriette, with brown skin and more than a
few gray hairs. We sat among tomato plants and talked, while Rafe and
Flora played outside in their Walker forms. Wolf and pony -- an
unlikely pair.

Henriette was from Neptune's End, a small island nation in the Thetys
Ocean, too poor to afford a full embassy even in one of the Gondwanan
polities. Even if she could be returned to a human-run city, there was
nobody who would pay for her flight home.

"It was a wonderful group vacation though," she reminisced, "until it
was so rudely interrupted."

She'd been allowed to write home now and then, at least. Even so, her
children were starting to forget her, and she'd never seen her
grandchildren.

"I wouldn't call myself resigned," she mused. "It's more like my
previous life has ended. I have a new one now. Still caring for
children in a way."

"Did I ever thank you for the good food?" I asked. It had helped my
morale a lot. Camp food was every bit as bad as Rafe had warned me.

She laughed softly. "Actually, that was Flora's idea from the start.
They can taste the food if they eat while Fused, you know."

"I know." It was even true. But I would have never expected a RIDE to
take pity of me. Or was it enlightened self-interest? Was there a
difference?

"Rafe," I asked once we were on our way, "if you need humans here so
badly, why don't you make them an offer?"

"Would you have come if I asked nicely?"

"No!... But it was a special case."

"It's always a special case. Very few people ever come willingly."

"Maybe you need better conditions to attract them."

"Conditions we can't create without more manpower. It's a vicious
circle."

"So you kidnap them instead."

He didn't answer.

"Rafe... can I e-mail my friends? Let them know I'm all right?"

"Sure thing, kid. As soon as the satellites are right. We need as many
anonymous relays between us and them as possible. And of course I'll
need to review your message."

"Of course."

I didn't keep that e-mail, but it went something like this:

Hi guys,

Sorry for disappearing on you like that. I've been bodyjacked (is
that the right word?) and taken to Alpha Camp. You've heard of the
place. They're letting me send this to you so that you know I'm in
good health, but I don't know when I'll be able to join you. Don't
read too much into that; even RIDEs who would rather be elsewhere
can seldom be provided with transportation.

I still don't know what to tell my parents. I don't want them to
worry. If they ask, make something up.

Take care,
Alex

P.S. How have you settled in?

It sounded fake even to me. I gave up waiting for an answer after a
few more days.

----

"Humans are paradoxical," Rafe commented at one point. "They hold
freedom sacred, yet are afraid of choice, and would rather die than
take responsibility for their own actions. You'd think they'd be happy
to let someone else make decisions for them, but no, they still clamor
for a freedom they can't handle."

"My philosophy teacher used to say freedom is an illusion anyway," I
told him.

"Now, now, that's bunk, kid. There's a big difference between `I'm
forced to recharge twice a day or else I shut down' versus `I'm forced
to follow arbitrary orders or else they'll dismantle me'."

I was thinking of something wise to say, when the camp's radio
spectrum filled with excited chatter. But my entry-level comm implant
-- courtesy of my first Fuse -- could do little more than detect it.

"What's going on, Rafe?"

"I'm not sure. Something about our comrades who got caught during the
Uplift raid. They may have been released."

We watched the suborbital take off on short notice. Nobody was in any
mood to get back to work until it returned, an hour or so later.

Pretty much every RIDE in the camp gathered at the airstrip.

I lacked the context to understand much of AlphaWolf's speech. He was
using the suborbital's ramp for a podium, standing upright, presumably
thanks to one of the camp's unattached humans. As it turned out, the
raid on Uplift had been a mistake; a formerly trusted informant had
tricked Alpha into attacking a potential ally. Oddly enough, they'd
been forgiven, and now Uplift was passing legislation to give RIDEs
almost full sapient rights, and one day maybe even citizenship.

Now, you must remember that Uplift was already one of the more
progressive polities when it came to RIDE rights, so the main impact
of all this was going to be political in nature. But in the short term
it did mean that AlphaWolf had to atone for his error, and one of the
steps was to fly back every human who had been forcefully taken away
during the raid.

"So this is it," said Rafe wistfully. "back to your scheduled
entertainment, I guess."

"But I don't know anyone in Uplift," I reminded him, "and I doubt that
my suborbital ticket is still good. I'd be stranded in a foreign city,
jobless and penniless."

"Alpha Camp isn't a resort either, kid. It may be your last chance to
get out of here for a very long time."

"I know." Fear was choking me. "I know..."

AlphaWolf wasn't entirely happy to hear it.

"I'm sorry, boss," fidgeted Rafe as we stood side by side. "but I was
nearly run over last time. And I'm falling behind on my work here as
it is."

"It can't be helped," said AlphaWolf drily. "What about you, young man?
I can find another volunteer to go with you."

"Uh... thank you... AlphaWolf... sir... but we talked" -- I met eyes
with Rafe -- "and decided it was best to wait for another opportunity."

Alpha didn't ask why. He just looked deep into my eyes. Who knows what
he saw.

"If you say so." He turned and padded away.

I sat down in the dust, leaning against Rafe's strong body, and cried
my heart out. For some reason, he didn't ask to Fuse until much later.

----

For a desert the size of Laurasia, the Dry Ocean is surprisingly
populated. And for all of Alpha Camp's fearsome reputation, it's not
nearly the worst faction out here.

Every year, a vanishingly small percentage of RIDEs slip their fetters
and escape to the Dry in search of freedom. A few more are left for
dead by prospectors. Still, that makes enough chassis in absolute
numbers that it's profitable to go out there, recapture and sell them
again. And people ruthless enough to do that won't shy from using
restraining methods even worse than software fetters, or for that
matter also enslave some of their fellow humans to do the hard work.

It just happened that a gang of these human scum had set up shop not
so far from Alpha Camp. It was enough to make all of us paranoid.

With the people from Uplift returned to their homes and Paul bringing
RIDEs back from the graveyard, humans were again in short supply. We'd
have managed, but for a radical faction that kept agitating the
spirits against AlphaWolf, using his new policies against him. All in
all, to say tempers were frayed would have been an understatement.

The tipping point was the arrival of a new RIDE, a huge dragon called
Peaches. Not that anyone would have dared laugh at him -- he had as
much heavy weaponry by himself as I'd previously seen around the camp.
The malcontents immediately started grumbling about his energy
consumption, and how he was supposed to earn his keep. I couldn't see
what they were trying to accomplish by pushing for a raid anyone could
get behind; even I could see the appeal in giving those slavers a
taste of their own medicine. Say what you want, Alpha had standards.

At least nobody expected Rafe to volunteer this time. His lack of
milspec hardware could rapidly make him a liability on the battlefield,
and he already had a human: me. For the third time in a week or so,
we watched the suborbital take off without us. I felt a pang of worry.
This time they were going into battle. How many RIDEs weren't coming
back? Some of them were good people...

What kind of a thought was that? I was still their slave!

About fifty RIDEs went out, the maximum capacity of the camp's one
rickety aircraft, and about as many stayed behind. Rafe was grateful
to get some help with the power grid, but I was nervous; most of those
who'd stayed behind were hardline human haters. Thankfully, one of the
camp's few laws could be summed up as "finder's, keeper's": no RIDE
would have forced another to give up their human.

Miraculously, everybody returned safely. But that's when things took
an ugly turn.

You see, the first RIDEs ever built were based on land mammals. Those
are generally close enough to humans that the only extras you get are
big ears and a tail. When they started basing them off birds and
dolphins, it turned out those would twist the bodies of their RIDErs
to a much higher degree, enough that swapping Fuse partners too soon
afterwards could be lethal. And now they were designing RIDEs based on
dinosaurs, or even mythical creatures.

All those were now forming a separate group as we went to meet the
returning expedition. And they challenged AlphaWolf openly. Every time
he'd throw them a bone, they'd find something else to whine about. It
all ended up with a dozen former slavers being traded around like
collectibles. Not a pretty show. But much as I didn't want anyone to
go through that, I'd heard an old lynx recounting how she'd rescued a
girl they were keeping locked up in conditions that made Alpha Camp
look like paradise.

Even the worst RIDEs would never have done that to one of their own.

----

People have never ceased believing in the mysterious and the
supernatural. Space scouts always have some tall tale about alien
artifacts and ruins, for instance. And ghost stories make as much
sense on Zharus as they do anywhere else.

Gondwanans have the Integrates: a supposed merging of human and RIDE
that transcends mere cybernetic implanting; a seamless blend of living
tissue and machine, with incredible powers. As rumors have it, they
live deep in the Dry, hidden as only they can, and anyone who dares
disturb their isolation will be forcibly turned into one of them -- or
worse.

Funny that RIDEs would be more afraid of these mythical Integrates
than, say, the Gondwanan Federated Marshals locating and assaulting
Alpha Camp. But that's the price of true artificial intelligence:
sometimes RIDEs can be as irrational as any human, even to the point
of having their own religions of sorts.

No wonder that when a RIDE ran across the camp, screaming at the top
of his metaphorical lungs that Integrates were coming for all of us
and broadcasting admittedly suspicious video from the graveyard, many
of the residents went into panic mode and abandoned the dome. Others,
surprisingly enough, were attacking the intruders, even as Fenris sent
reassuring messages.

Then the explosions came, several of the stone spires close to the
graveyard crashing down noisily. As if that hand't been enough, the
hardlight dome keeping the camp livable for humans and crops failed.
And at least a dozen of the runaways had left their humans out in the
open, fear of Integration overwhelming their need for thumbs.

AlphaWolf was the first to react, getting a few of the remaining RIDEs
to Fuse with the stunned slaves. "Help me get the rest of them into
one of the cabins," he called.

"Put them in Dorm 2!" shouted Rafe.

"Why there?"

"We fixed the emergency cooling system two days ago!"

They did so. "Everyone accounted for?" asked Rafe.

"Two missing."

"I'm on it." We left AlphaWolf deal with more urgent matters and went
to take a look at those crashed spires.

Yep, that was it. One of them had landed on top of a small log cabin,
crushing it, and as Rafe's sensors indicated, that's where the pair
had been hiding for an intimate moment together. They'd somehow taken
refuge under a heavy table, but they were pinned. And the piece of
rock on top of them was too heavy for a light RIDE to move.

I leaned down to get the lighter debris out of the way first, and Rafe
lent his strength. Or maybe he started the motion, and I went along;
we couldn't tell anymore as of late.

But then he raised our hand, and daggers of light shot from our
outstretched palm, spraying us harmlessly with rock fragments from
the shattering boulder. It broke in half along a sinuous surface. We
still couldn't move it.

"Let us help you," said someone from behind. It was Melinda the badger,
padding our way in her Fuser form, but the voice was that of her human.

"Thank you," I said simply.

It was an easy task between the four of us.

----

"I didn't know you could do that, Rafe."

"What? Oh, you mean my built-in pulse weapon?" He shrugged. "All RIDEs
have one, we just don't need it much."

"Except in combat?"

"Ha! You want a real gun in combat, kid, not this pea shooter."

I nodded. "Do you regret not being a real military RIDE?"

He thought for a moment. "No, not really. I mean, I'd fight to the
death to protect what I love, but war as a general rule is just
pointless death and destruction."

With the dome back up, if not at full strength, and many runaways
returning once the initial panic had worn off, life once again had a
semblance of normalcy. There would be plenty of cleanup work to do,
but it could wait. For now, all the camp's population gathered in the
village square.

As it turned out, not only were Integrates real, but they were here
now. In fact, they had known the location of Alpha Camp since it had
been founded. So had the Marshals, who had only let it exist because
it was the lesser of many evils, by far. Talk about an alien landing
in the Dry.

Incidentally, a few of the Fused pairs on camp ''had'' been forcibly
Integrated, apparently to save them from a kind of software trojan
that could make a RIDE entrap and torture a human to death. We saw
them, and they were definitely no monsters. Only confused, and sad.
They hadn't hated their human halves before being infected. No wonder,
though, that for once Rafe felt we were both much safer un-Fused.
Well, there was also a suborbital the Marshals had flown in to pick
up our guests. It was headed to one of their bases near Aloha, from
where I could easily get a lift.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way between us," Rafe confessed while we
stood at the foot of the ramp. "You know, you were the first human to
ever treat me like a person."

"Well, you acted like a person towards me from the very first moment."

"Even as I made you into a slave?"

"Well, as an old science fiction story postulated, only a sapient life
form would think to put another creature in a cage."

He chuckled. "Good bye... Alex."

I ran up the ramp in the nick of time. By nightfall I was in Aloha.
Airy, exotic Aloha. Jewel of the Zharusian Tropics. Along the seashore,
palm trees swayed in the salty breeze, and the sound of parties echoed
in the distance.

To me it all just felt cold and uncaring.

----

I'd missed the opportunity to register as a company co-founder, but it
didn't bother me. My friends paid for my electrician certification
either way. There should have been some classes as well, but I easily
fast-tracked through them. Practical experience is the patron goddess
of teaching, after all.

My friends also offered to pay for surgery to remove my wolf ears and
tail.

"That's out of the question," I answered. "Never bring it up again."

They chalked it up to PTSD.

Time passed. Between bouts of work, I was keeping a keen eye on the
news. The world had gone crazy during my little forced vacation. An
Integrate had breached the masquerade, and it turned out there were
several factions: those who wanted to be able to live a normal life
in society, those who just wanted to be left alone in their
isolation... and those who hated the rest of us ("meat and mech", as
they liked to say) with a passion, considering themselves superior.

And the latter had gone on the offensive.

The first major engagement of this war had already consumed itself.
Hostile Integrates had taken over the single largest mining platform
in the Dry, only to be driven off again by a private strike team.
Then things became really weird. While I was still settling in, news
services reported of a double attack on Nextus, during which both
Integrates and AlphaWolf had tried to kidnap a certain rich family,
presumably for ransom, and had gotten in each other's way. I didn't
believe it for a moment. Indeed, it didn't take NextusLeaks long to
reveal that the Alpha team had been the good guys in this story.

It hadn't been so easy in Uplift.

There had been two incidents there, in fact. One, a surgical strike at
a press conference, had been a clear victory for the other side. Who
then proceeded to become cocky and launch a full-scale assault against
the city. I cringed at the video of failing hardlight domes, an entire
metropolis left vulnerable to the forces of nature, and scattered
shootouts in the sandblasted streets. How many people there hadn't
been lucky enough to have a Rafe of their own?

But that was much later. Enough that I was growing used to living on
my own. Enough that I was beginning to forget.

Then news came that the single largest battle of the war had just
taken place at Alpha Camp.

I was in a daze for hours.

Mind you, Alpha had ''won'', and in a spectacular way at that. But not
without heavy casualties. Pointless death and destruction, indeed...
Perhaps the only real gain had been the amnesty granted AlphaWolf and
his followers as recognition of their role in ending the Integrate
wars. Alpha Camp was going legit. Going on the map for that matter...
and rebuilding.

Construction was going to be a booming business there for years, I
told my friends. This was the perfect time to set up offices in a new
market, and only one of us knew more than rumors about the place. They
didn't find anything suspicious with my suggestion. Even their worry
over my going back seemed genuine.

I don't know how I walked to the coffee break room. My knees gave way
and I sat on a couch, hugging my arms. Would Rafe even accept me as a
willing pair? Would I even find him alive?

Only one way to find out.

----

There were three domes in Alpha Camp now, one of them large enough to
cover the new aerodrome. Large Integrates busied themselves unloading
shipping containers out of suborbitals and carting them off to town.
I strolled that way myself, among construction sites, elbowing my way
through a busy crowd. Too many new faces. Too much noise.

A proper office building stood where the old admin shed had been, but
nobody was in. A note on the door said to comm AlphaWolf if it was
urgent. It was easy to decide that it wasn't. So Rafe wasn't acting
administrator anymore. Hm.

The streets were dug up, work proceeding apace to bury water pipes and
the like. And yes, there was more than one street now. It took me a
while to find Flora's little greenhouse, which looked so quaint now
among all the new developments. But she wasn't at home.

One place left to check.

The graveyard was gone too, a pair of little buildings standing in the
quiet enclosure, which by some miracle was otherwise undeveloped. It
was easy to guess at my destination thanks to the hardlight projector
that spelled "Freeriders Garage" in proud letters.

"Hello, Paul, Fenris." I acknowledged the huge wolf, who was poking
his head inside through a bay window made to size. "I'm Alex Hunter.
You probably don't remember me."

"Rafe's human, right?" asked Paul. "Funny coincidence, he was just
talking about you earlier."

"He's here?"

"Yep. Bay 6, in the back." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
"Knock yourself out."

At first I didn't recognize the metallic RIDE secured into a
maintenance cradle, with half of its access panels missing, cables and
tubes going into various ports. Then he lifted his head, and his eyes
-- now reduced to inexpressive reddish lenses -- lit up from inside.

"Aw, why didn't you comm ahead, kid? I didn't want you to see me like
this." His voice, too, had a metallic tinge.

I hugged his big ole' head. "Who cares what you look like? You're
alive!"

He chuckled. "You don't look too shabby yourself. Still carrying my
tags, I see."

"I wouldn't give them up for the world."

"...Thank you."

We sat together in silence for a while.

"So, how long until they let you out of the hospital?" I joked.

"A few days at most. You're here to stay?" He sounded as if he didn't
dare hope.

"How else?"

He nodded weakly. "Thank you. Better get yourself a place to sleep
then, eh? 'Fraid I still don't have one. Didn't expect to need it."

"No problem. Say, any idea where Flora and Henriette hang out these
days? They weren't at their place."

I couldn't possibly miss his hesitation.

"They're gone," he said hoarsely. "And don't you start crying on me!
Either of them was more of a fighter that day than I'll ever be."

It was small consolation, and I told him as much, in a few more words
perhaps, and not too coherent.

At least me and Rafe had all the time in the world.

THE END

Bucharest, 2013-11-14

{{series bar
|series=Alpha Camp
|next=[[User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp|Return to Alpha Camp]]}}

User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp

2013-11-22T17:08:14Z

Claude LeChat: Added series bar and more categories.

User:Claude LeChat/Return to Alpha Camp

2013-11-21T16:16:29Z

Claude LeChat: Created

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Claude LeChat]] [[Category:FreeRIDErs]] [[Category:Science fiction]]

{{Universe|FreeRIDErs}}

{{title
|name=Return to Alpha Camp
|author=Claude LeChat}}

{{author note|You can download this story in plain text format [http://felix.plesoianu.ro/pub/sci-fi/return-to-alpha-camp.txt from here]. Feel free to share it with your friends.}}

{{dropcap|T}}he deadly desert sunlight filtered through a weather dome, then a
set of Venetian blinds, before illuminating a quiet office divided in
two by a massive, yet plain and functional, desk. The visitor, a small
man in a bland business suit, sat nervously across from a humanoid
wolf, maybe two meters tall and correspondingly massive, wearing a
metal kilt by way of modesty.

"Welcome to Alpha Camp, Mr. Grey. How was the flight from Nextus?"
asked the wolf, with the air of someone still learning to be social.

"Fine, thank you," said the man in a voice as small as himself. "Er...
forgive me, but who am I talking to?"

"My name is Rafe. I'm a RIDE, as you can see."

"Indeed. But there's a human inside you, is there not?"

The wolf's voice changed abruptly to a youthful one that didn't match
his body. "I'm right here, Mr. Grey. Alex Hunter, by the way. But it's
really Rafe you want to talk to."

"I'm not sure I understand, Mr. Hunter. You mean your RIDE is in
charge here?"

The wolf sighed on two voices at once. Then he got up from the desk
and walked to the middle of the room. As Grey watched, his furred host
''melted'', his real metal body showing for a moment before he reformed
into a stunningly realistic arctic wolf. Next to him stood a young man
of average height, in jeans and a T-shirt, sporting ears and a tail
identical to those of his companion.

"Yes, Mr. Grey, Rafe here is in charge. And I'm his human, not the
other way around," the young man explained, rather coolly.

Of course, humans hadn't been slaves at Alpha Camp ever since the
small polity's pivotal role in the Integrate War had earned it a
federal amnesty (even though RIDEs were still slaves mostly anywhere
else on Zharus). But old hands still described themselves as
"belonging" to their RIDEs. Outsiders were quick to invoke Stockholm
Syndrome. Alex chose to call it loyalty.

"This is unnerving," wheezed Grey, wiping his forehead with a paper
towel.

"We get that a lot. You'll get used to it. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Wait, why are you leaving?"

"Because as long as I stay, you'll be tempted to address me rather
than Rafe, and we'll get nowhere fast."

"But..."

"Don't worry, he won't eat you. Probably." With that, Alex closed the
door behind himself.

"Now that the introductions are out of the way," the wolf spoke again,
"let's get down to business."

----

There was a receptionist's desk in the hallway outside the office, and
Alex sat himself down behind it unhappily. It couldn't compete with
the accelerated time in a RIDE's virtual reality, but a human with a
computer workstation could still do some useful work. And there was
plenty of it to do, between his job as the local agent of a
construction company in Aloha and the secretarial work he insisted on
doing for the wolf. The young man ached to grab a screwdriver and do
some physical work for a change, but administrative issues seemed to
have no end.

It was an hour before Rafe saw his visitor to the door. Grey looked
very much relieved, either from the result of the talks or because he
could finally put some distance between himself and the sapient
machine whose presence troubled him so.

"So, how'd it go?" asked Alex once the man was on his way.

"You won't believe what they want from us."

"Try me!"

"Join me for a spell first?"

In the street, the wolf took the third shape any light RIDE had: that
of a sleek, but solid skimmer bike with soft, organic lines betraying
its true nature. They hadn't needed to travel like that in the old
days, but in the mean time Alpha Camp had grown from less than two
hundred RIDEs and humans to over two thousand, and it didn't show any
signs of slowing down yet. The main street had lengthened considerably,
and was now the backbone of a larger grid. Right in the center, a park
had grown around the venerable communal well, also engulfing the old
commissary, now only used for the occasional potluck or other event.
Abovehead, a faint shimmer tempered the hazy blue of the sky; in the
distance, one could see the lethal desert wind blowing sand against
the hardlight domes that kept the town alive in the harshest climate
on the planet, thousands of klicks from any other sign of civilization.

The clinic was representative of the current boom, a squarish yet
elegant two-story building with a small yard next to it, similar to
yet different from any other in town. Rafe hovered to a stop in front
of the main entrance and waited for Alex to dismount before morphing
back into his animal self.

"Let's see if the doctor is in," he said, and they entered together.

At 25, Alice Chapel was only a few years older than Alex. She had red
hair, a face full of freckles and more kilograms than was healthy.
But most importantly, she had a deeply seated fear of RIDEs, which was
probably why she had chosen to do her internship in such a place: it
was like learning how to swim by jumping in at the deep end of the
pool.

"Hello, Alice," Alex greeted cheerfully, making sure to stand in front
of Rafe. "How are things?"

"Hairy," she deadpanned. "I have more Integrate than human patients,
and what I learned in medical school doesn't help so much."

"Gotta think on your feet, girl," said the brown she-bear who was just
entering the door behind Alice. She had a funny hat and a collar tag
that identified her as Nurse Helga.

Alice froze in place, conspicuously avoiding to look down.

"I keep telling her we should just Fuse once," said Helga with a hint
of reproach, "then she'd see there's nothing to fear. Anyway, what
brings you two here?"

Alex looked at Rafe. The wolf looked back at the humans. "You'd better
get a drink," he said, "this is going to take a while."

----

They were sitting face to face in the waiting room, the smell of hot
coffee from the cups in their hands mixing with the overall whiff of
disinfectant. To either side of them were the RIDEs; Alice still
wouldn't look directly at them.

"They want us to do what?!" she asked.

"You have to understand where they're coming from," said Rafe
patiently. "Between the Integrates going public and RIDEs bodyjacking
humans in the open, people in many polities are afraid to work with
our kind anymore. And all too often, they have no other way to do
their jobs."

"But we don't snatch humans at random anymore," pointed out Helga.

"Tell that to someone who's only ever heard of Alpha Camp in the news."

Alex nodded slowly. "Why don't they give their employees a trip to
Uplift instead? They have a meet-and-greet RIDE museum there. Even a
RIDE creche -- whatever that's supposed to mean."

"I'm not about to look the gift skimmer in the engine compartment,"
said Rafe. "This could mean some real income for the town. Question is,
can we do it?"

"Well, I'm no therapist," mused Alice. "I can't even fix myself," she
laughed nervously. "But I can place a few calls."

"That's all I ask. Oh well, back to work." He got up. "Thanks for
having us, Alice."

"You're welcome," she said, eyes firmly pointed at the wall behind
Alex.

----

A dozen men and women were gathered in a windowless room, sitting in
a semicircle. Most of them were pushing middle age and dressed with
various degrees of formality. Curiously, not a single one sported the
animal ears and tails that came from partnering with a RIDE -- a
statistical anomaly even in Nextus. Then again, such tags could be
removed as easily as a tattoo.

"This concludes today's session," said the man in the center of the
group as he stood up. "See you next week."

They scattered every which way once outside. One woman, with white
stripes in her raven-black hair and deep lines on her face, stopped to
take in the boulevard, with its reassuringly uniform buildings and
neatly ordered traffic. That's what she liked about Nextus: even trees
in parks were perfectly aligned into decorative patterns. Unimpeded by
a dome, the architecture often reached dizzying heights.

"Carla!" she heard, and turned to see a man waving as he came towards
her. His short blond hair and round face made him appear a lot younger
than he was likely to be.

She hugged him. "Daryl! You came!"

"How else?" he said. His smile faded. "What's wrong?"

"Therapy isn't helping."

"Give it more time, dear."

"I gave it enough, Daryl!" she screamed. "I can't get it out of my
head! Any of it! Being a prisoner in my own body! Not knowing what was
going to happen to me! All the other humans there -- tortured, broken.
Or worse -- accepting!"

He'd heard it all a hundred times before. "But what else can we do?"

She took a deep breath. "I must go back to Alpha Camp. Just once.
There's this new program at the institute..."

His face contorted upon hearing the name. "We should bomb that place
into oblivion."

"Seriously, Daryl? They ''crushed'' an Integrate army. What makes you
think the Nextus military would fare any better?"

"We invented RIDEs," he said darkly. "We should damned well be able
to smash them to pieces."

"Ah, Daryl, you're such a child sometimes. Help me do this, please.
For my sake?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" He wrapped an arm around her
shoulders and they walked away.

----

The charter suborbital taxied to a stop right in front of a small
airport terminal, dropping off less than two dozen passengers. Half of
them Carla knew from a distance; the other half were businesspeople,
even more boring than her and Daryl's companions. Further afield,
towering humanoid shapes were unloading containers from cargo aircraft.

"Are those people in RIDEs?" asked a nerdy looking guy, in clothes
that Carla found overly casual even for the present circumstances.

"Actually, RIDEs ''are'' people," somebody answered from behind the
group. "At any rate, those are Integrates. Humans permanently Fused
with their RIDEs. Don't worry, that's a very rare occurrence, and
doesn't happen by accident."

It was a humanoid Komodo dragon, sitting behind the wheel of an open
platform skimmer with passenger seats in the back, which already
contained their bags.

"My name is Padar," he continued, and I'll be your guide for the stay.
Climb aboard, if you will."

"Oh, I know!" chirped an anorexic girl as they gave course to the
invitation. "Some Integrates are good guys, right?"

"Indeed," confirmed the guide. "Those you see there are from the army
that attacked Alpha Camp a while ago."

"I don't get it," Daryl piped in. "Are they sentenced to community
service or something? In Nextus we'd have just executed them."

And that's why you have no friends, the lizard's expression seemed to
say. The actual answer was more polite: "That wouldn't have brought
back our own dead. Or caused the tyrant who forced them into battle
any regrets."

He revved the lifters and drove them towards the town at a leisurely
pace. "But let's enjoy the visit. Alpha Camp was founded two decades
ago. At the time, RIDEs had only existed for fifteen years, and the
vast majority were military models. Hence our tradition of..."

"That'd odd," a stolid-looking woman interrupted him, eyeing the
construction bots busily printing out a new building by the roadside.
"I thought it would all look like a concentration camp."

The guide emitted a strangled sound.

"It was never a concentration camp," Carla found herself saying. "More
like a village, really."

The older woman stared at her. As a matter of fact, everyone else did,
too.

"Indeed," resumed the guide, sounding very grateful. "For the longest
time, opportunities for expansion were limited due to our unofficial
status..."

He droned on in the same vein as the vehicle made a detour, then
entered the town proper through one end of the main street -- the one
opposite from their hotel. Even Carla was shocked at how normal it all
seemed now, a happy little town with colorful storefronts advertising
various businesses. It could have been orbiting any of the large
city-states on the continent, but for the fact that RIDEs dominated
the pedestrian traffic, either Fused with humans or by themselves.
And since their primary role was that of power armor, even those based
on smaller animals had to have enough internal space for a human body.
Which could lead to the surreal sight of a pony-sized badger padding
down the street, carrying a pair of shopping bags balanced on its back.

Which was exactly what happened as they were disembarking in front of
the hotel and grabbing their luggage.

"Melinda?!" exclaimed Carla.

Several things happened at the same time.

The badger stopped, ears drooping, and hesitantly looked towards the
group. Daryl reached for the gun holster under his jacket. "That's
''her''?" he shouted. "I'll kill that monster!" Then Carla grabbed his
arm, yelling "No!" just as across the road a Fused wolf in a metallic
kilt got up from his seat at a hole-in-the-wall fast food and covered
the intervening six meters in a single, standing leap, landing in
front of the pair. The badger bolted.

"Melinda, wait!" and with that, Carla ran after her. Daryl moved to
follow.

"I'm not leaving you alone with that... that..." He was stopped by a
huge arm covered in fur.

"Hand me your gun first."

Daryl had to tilt his head backwards to look at the wolf. "Who're you?"
he asked, suddenly mellow.

"A concerned citizen. I can't let you play judge, jury and executioner.
Especially in my town."

Hesitantly, the man did as requested. "I'm sorry," he said.

"No harm, no foul," shrugged the wolf. "I'll give it to Carla when she
comes back."

"Wait, you know my wife?"

The wolf nodded. "I'm from the old guard. Name's Rafe. I don't suppose
she ever mentioned me."

"She might have. She mentioned many things. But really, I should..."

"Walk with me," Rafe interrupted him.

They took a few steps, while the guide recovered from the shock enough
to herd the rest of the group into the hotel.

"I don't understand," complained Daryl. "What could they possibly have
to talk about?"

"Closure. Believe it or not, Melinda isn't proud of what she did. We
need humans, just as they need us, and it was the only way back then."

"Is that supposed to make things better?"

Rafe shook his head. "No."

"Have you ever... you know..."

"Bodyjacked a human? Yes, once. His name is Alex."

Daryl inched away from him. Rafe hung his head in shame.

"It's not the way you think. We're still together."

The man looked more carefully at the humanoid wolf. "Oh!"

"You figured it out," said Rafe, and his hardlight fur flickered off
before he unfolded with a fluid motion, then reformed into his
quadrupedal stance, leaving Alex to stand in his place.

The two men shook hands.

"This may seem hard to believe," said Alex, "but it wasn't all bad.
Despite the... circumstances. But it was different for everyone."

"I don't get it. How can you talk so calmly about having been a slave?"

"That's funny," answered Alex, hugging around Rafe's neck. "Carla once
asked me a similar question."

"I can talk calmly about having been a slave," Rafe pointed out, "and
I've been one for years on end, not just months."

"Sure," said Daryl, "But you were..."

"Built to be a slave? Yes. Didn't make it any easier to be one."

They walked in silence for a while. Far ahead of them, the woman and
the badger were still chatting.

"You know, Daryl," resumed Alex after a while, "I think you're
focusing too much on the 'how' when the real question is 'what'.
We're happy now, what matters the past?"

"The scars matter," pointed out Daryl.

"I guess," said Alex. "It wasn't easy. But I found it in me to forgive
Rafe for taking me away from my life and friends. In turn, he forgave
all humans for treating him like an object. Everybody won."

Daryl nodded thoughtfully. "I see now. Do you... do you think Carla
will ever be able to forgive Melinda?"

"One can only hope," mused Rafe.

Elsewhere in town, a she-bear RIDE and a redhead girl Fused for the
first time. It wasn't easy for either of them, and they had plenty of
catching up to do.

THE END

Bucharest, 2013-11-20