DVANDOM _____ ______ _____ _______ THE SIG.FILES PART 5 [ ]__ [ ] [] [ ]__)) [ ] ` [ ]__ #70 - "Four and No More" [ ] [ ] [] [ ] \\ [ ] [ ] copyright 1996 Dave Van Domelen [_] [_]__[] [_] \\ [_]___/ [_]____ -------]==+ <*> +==[------- [cover is cut into horizontal bars an inch high. Each bar has one character in it, looking kind of squashed and lying sideways in the bar. The top two bars have the series title and the bottom one says "The Sig.Files V".] Lynk sat in the middle of her room, a few boxes of new clothes and other personal things sitting in the corners. Stan's people had ordered new stuff for her in the wake of the Dvandom Force HQ being destroyed, but she'd been too preoccupied to look through most of it. A mystical window hung in the air before Anna, the images visible through it flickering and changing like a candle flame in a breeze. After a few minutes of concentration, she gave up and sighed. "Focus," she muttered to no one in particular. She still lacked the necessary focus to use her new dreamlands powers to scrye out information for her. A stray thought or an image caught out of the corner of her eye would send the window careering onto another subject, out of control. She pondered the word itself. Focus. Not just a state of mind, but it can also refer to a physical object. Maybe she could substitute the one for the other? A talisman to keep her mind fixed on the particular task at hand, or at least keep her subconscious dreaming mind on task. A small smile crept across her face as she hit upon an appropriate focus. She waved her hand and invoked the power she'd gained by taking into herself the dream-essence of the Gauntlet of GIF. A keyboard appeared in the air in front of her, as well as a mouse. "Eep!?" chittered the rather surprised rodent, which had its tail grafted into the keyboard. "Great, I'm free-associating my spells now," Anna tsked as she opened her mystic window again and firmly grabbed the mouse, causing it to turn into its plastic-and-circuitry counterpart in the process. It still had ears, though. "Okay, let's see if I can get this interface to work any better," she said to herself as she typed "dtp://yoohoo.com" [dtp = Dream Transfer Protocol - Ed.] on the keyboard. The window flashed and settled onto a familiar-looking search pattern request screen. Clicking on the text box, she typed in "Jubatis" and clicked on "Search Now." The first several entries were the dreams of lexicographers, and Anna discovered that "Jubatis" is part of the scientific name for the cheetah. "Ah, here's the one I want," she aha'ed as she paged down to an entry which seemed to be Jubatis himself. She clicked on the entry and waited for her magic to make the connection. And waited. Finally the window changed to reveal the words "You are not authorized to load this information." Before she could say anything in either shock or indignation, the Sankatext crawl on the bottom of the screen read out, "Did you really think it would be that easy?" Anna snarled and dismissed the keyboard. The mouse dropped to the floor and scurried under her bed. -------]==+ <*> +==[------- "Coffee?" Stan asked as he started to stand from his chair. "Sure," Squidman replied as he continued typing at the security terminal. "How y'take it?" "Sweet as a breath of air, black as the ocean's bottom...two sugars, no cream" he explained. "Heh, my grandma used to say that was 'sweet as a stolen kiss, black as the devil's heart.' But I guess we go with what we know, eh?" Stan chuckled as he headed out for the kitchen. Squidman briefly pondered if this meant Stan's grandmother had dealt with devils, then dismissed the wayward thought and returned to the task at hand. "Greetings, oh fearless leader," Kid Pocky said as he sauntered into the room, tossing his helmet lightly in one hand. "Where? Oh, you mean me." "Who else would I mean?" "Well, there's a guy called Fearless Leader over at LNHQ now," Squidman replied. "Oh, so he leads the LNH?" "Nope." "Weird." "Well, this IS the LNH we're talking about." "True." "So, you just here to watch me program security systems so that we don't have a repeat of the killer rabbits, or do you have something to talk to me about?" the Deepsea Detective asked as he put the finishing touches on a subsystem. "Well, I was wondering...." "When we'll start to look for Kat," Squidman finished the sentence for Kid Pocky. "How did...?" Squidman nodded to the computer. "You've already been searching on your own. That showed up when I did a complete check of systems for any viruses or unauthorized use. Besides...just because you usually wear a helmet doesn't mean no one will notice the way you look at her." Kid Pocky blushed slightly. "I guess I've had a crush on her since I saw newsfootage of her last year." "Kid...Al...Kat is not someone you want to get mixed up with in any sort of romantic or emotional sense. She's nearly at the century mark and spent about half of her life as a mercenary on the run. I like to think she's basically good, but...." "But you think that decades of trusting no one don't exactly make her the best person to trust your heart to? Yeah, I know. No one said a crush had to be on someone who's good for you, y'know," Kid Pocky shrugged. "Even if she *is* of dubious moral character, I wanna know she's okay." "Okay. I still think she'll show up when she wants to be found, but once I get this set up I'll ask Anna if she can track Kat down. Kat might be able to elude all modern technological means of detection, but she's never really been able to counter magic." "Thanks." Stan walked back in with the coffee. "Oh, hi Al. Want some?" "Nah, I was just on my way out to practice," Kid Pocky said, nodding to Squidman and heading out the door. "Stan, know anything about Kid Pocky that we haven't added to the files yet?" Squidman asked. "What, think he's a spy or something?" Stan asked dubiously as he set a steaming mug next to Squidman's keyboard. "Well, his full name's Algernon Berthold, he's second-generation Japanese-American. His dad's half-German, his mom's full-Japanese. Grew up in Sig.agoland." "Hmm. Oddball name, but that's not uncommon for net.heroes. Just something about him makes me think 'plot device,' but I can't put a finger on it." Stan clapped him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let it go for now. We've got enough in-team troubles for now without looking for more. If this keeps up, we might have to start making gratuitous Voyager references, and no one wants that." Squidman shuddered slightly in agreement. "Okay, whatever. Let's go over those outer perimeter systems again...." -------]==+ <*> +==[------- The grounds around the new Dvandom Force HQ were extensive, spreading over acres of rolling hills and medium-growth forest in northern Illi.net. One definite benefit of this was that if someone did try to blow up this HQ, there'd be less collateral damage to surrounding property. On the other hand, Anna noted, it made finding someone who was out for a stroll really hard. She knew Doug was out here somewhere. Every so often she'd hear a sharp CRACK as he'd hit an open stretch of ground and break the sound barrier (not a BOOM, he wasn't big enough or loud enough to make a boom... more like a whip cracking but louder and a little deeper). Of course, catching up to him was out of the question. The trick was to find a place he might pass by and get his attention. After a few minutes of searching, she found the perfect place. It was like stepping into his dreams without actually being in his dreams. The clearing was so similar to the one he'd dreamed about that he must have been here before and remembered it in his dream. Anna looked around carefully. There. The spot his mystery woman had been. Even if it were only a subconcious thing, he was likely to head for it at some point in his wanderings. She sat down in a shaft of sunlight that shimmered in and out as the wind blew the branches overhead around. A sudden gust of wind blew her hair into her face and nearly bowled her over. When she'd recovered her bearings and cleared her eyes, he was standing there in front of her. "Sorry, almost ran you over. You okay?" Doug asked. "Yes," she said, standing and pushing a rogue strand of hair back behind her ear. "But are you?" "What do you mean?" "Well, a couple of things. First there's Kat. You keep saying nothing happened, but we both know that's not true. I've seen some of your dreams, and..." "WHAT? You too?!?" he exclaimed in shock, taking a step back. "Can't I have any privacy in my own mind?" "You say that like someone else has been in your dreams," Anna said, thinking of Jubatis. "Or that Kat..." she let the sentence trail off. His face told her enough. "Look, I SAID I didn't want to talk about that, okay? I just need time to work through this." "I can..." "You can what? Help me? Last I checked, Anna, you weren't a psychologist. You're a stage magician and some sort of dream royalty, which means you know just enough about how the mind works to get you in trouble." Anna grabbed him by the shoulders. "Look. I've spent a lot of time on the road, seen a lot of people get into some really destructive relationships. And I do know that if Kat took advantage of you, you're not going to get better just stewing about it. If not me, see SOMEONE." Doug's eyes blazed for a moment with anger, then all the fight seemed to go out of him. "I thought I could trust her, thought I at least knew her a little. But she raped me...in my mind where I wouldn't see it or notice it. Then she told me about it and...left." Inside, Anna fumed. Kat was not going to get away with this. But outwardly she kept reign on her anger...it wouldn't do Doug any good, she knew. "She just ran out on you?" "I'm...not sure. She told me about it and begged for my forgiveness. I said I might be able to forgive her, but I turned my back on her for a moment and the next thing I know there's this hole in the ship and she's gone. I don't know if she even waited for my answer." Doug started to sob, and Anna hugged him close, like her father used to hug her when the nightmares came and wouldn't go away. Doug had had a tragic life for the most part, but she realized he'd never had quite this sort of thing happen to him...but it brought back all the old feelings. He'd spent years helpless, a victim of his own powers. And now Kat had made him helpless again under the pretense of helping him. Maybe he could forgive her, but Anna wasn't so sure Kat deserved it. "Come on, let's head in," Anna said, letting go of Doug. He nodded. "Anna? Please, don't tell the others yet. I want Kat to have a chance to tell them first, even if it does look like she's run away. I don't want to force her into becoming a net.villain just because we've all judged her in her absence." Anna frowned slightly and weighed her options. Grudgingly, she nodded assent. "Okay. But if she doesn't come back...." "I know, I'll deal with that when it happens, okay?" "Okay. Let's go." She decided to let the Jubatis mystery wait for another time. Besides, he might not even have been aware of the extra visitor in his dreams.... -------]==+ <*> +==[------- Stan waved to Macroman as he and Lynk walked past the doorway of the security room. "Doug, c'mere a second." "You too, Anna," Squidman added. "What's happening?" Doug asked. "Well, while you were out running around, we noticed that all the sonic boomlets you make were messing with the perimeter sensors," Stan said. "Sorry, I'll try to keep it below the speed of sound," Doug replied. Stan noticed Doug's eyes were a little puffy, as if he'd been crying. He could see that Squidman had noticed it as well. "No," Squidman said, deciding not to bring up Doug's personal matters at the moment, "we just need you to go run around the perimeter a few more times so we can see if the modifications we made work. We think we have it screened out." "Okay," Doug said, turning to leave. "What about me?" Anna asked. "Oh, Kid Pocky's getting worried about Kat," Squidman said. "I told him I'd ask you to look for her with your magic, since trying to track her with technology would be pretty futile." Doug stopped and shot a significant look at Anna. Squidman made a mental note to definitely look into this particular personal matter when things quieted down some. Anna glanced at Doug, then turned to Squidman and replied, "Sure. I've been meaning to find her anyway, and the other project I've been working on hasn't panned out, so I've got the time." Doug just sighed a little and left to do the perimeter sweep. "Is there...something going on here I should know about?" Squidman asked Anna, deciding now was quiet enough. "Probably, but I promised not to be the one to tell about it. It's up to Doug," she replied. Squidman sighed and rubbed his face with both hands in fatigue. "Some days I wonder if we're a net.hero team or a soap opera cast. Kid Pocky's acting mysterious, you and Doug have your secrets, Kat's gone off to who knows where, mysterious technorabbits are popping out of the woodwork, and" There was a pause. "Huh?" Stan was the first to say. "That's odd," Squidman noted. "I had more to say, but it just wouldn't come out. Not a mental block or anything, I knew what I was going to say. I was going to say 'and Warlord's still out there doing whatever it is he's doing.' It's as if I had run out of time on my meter and just" "Stopped dead," Anna finished for him. "Hey, guys!" Sidewinder popped into the room. "Is it just me or is it impossible to do anything that takes more than four lines today? VAXX and I were arguing about which of the Flame Wars trilogy was the best story, but we kept stalling out." "Four lines," Squidman said. "McQuary Limit," Stan added. "Damn, we've been so preoccupied with the secsystem...turn on the news channel, Stan." One of the monitor screens blinked over to the Sig.ago Superstation's broadcast. "...apologize for the fragmented nature of the coverage, but due to the strange effect sweeping Sig.ago we cannot stay on one reporter for more than a few seconds at a time before he seizes up. Chad?" "Here in the hospitals it's worst, as doctors are forced to reduce complex operations to single steps here and there, working in large teams to do what one doctor normally could. Tonya?" "Well, it's not so bad on the roads, as stop and go is the norm here, but what's really bizarre is that no building is currently over four stories tall. What has happened to the missing floors is unknown at this time. Back to you, Dirk." "Attempts have been made to contact the LNH or local Dvandom Force, but we seem to have been isolated from the rest of the country, and no one knows Dvandom Force's new phone number yet, as they have recently moved and neglected to get call-forwarding." Squidman turned from the screen. "Warlord's made his move. Somehow he's managed to apply the McQuary Limit to everything in northern Illi.net, if not the entire midwest. We've just lost the luxury of planning." =========================================================================== Next Issue: The assault on the Warlord! The secret of Jubatis revealed! At least one big plot point is revealed in the penultimate chapter of the Sig.Files! Author's Note: In case you missed previous references, the McQuary Limit is something from alt.fan.warlord, and refers to the maximum acceptable length of a signature file. If it's four lines or less, it's okay no matter what the content is. =========================================================================== Tales of the Warlord Part 3 - A Four-Bit Bounty Hunter Summer, 1878 [A dusty street in Dead.letter A.rec.zona] He was an older man, the one who walked slowly into the "heart" of this post-boom town. Older than anyone would have given odds on him getting, given his profession. Scraggly grey-brown hair stuck out from under his weatherbeaten hat and his skin was starting to wrinkle where it hadn't already been scarred. He paused to look around, removing the hat and wiping sweat from his misshapen bald pate. Some men said he'd gotten his head half caved in by an Indian's club, others said he'd just always been kinda ugly. He wore more layers of clothing than was comfortable in the summer heat, but since he carried all he owned with him it was unavoidable. He endured, like he always did. His presence started to register. Some windows were opened by the curious looking to catch a glimpse of a local legend. Others were closed by those who knew better. The sheriff paused on his way across the street and just shot the man a look that said, "Don't cause any trouble, or we might have to see if you've still got that fast draw." He paid it no mind. Happened pretty much everywhere he went these days. He supposed some day he'd be greeted by a rifle fired from one of those windows, but until then he could deal with it. Replacing his hat, he trudged into the saloon. "Well, if it ain't Jonah Hexadecimal!" shouted the slightly paunchy, slightly balding bartender. "Business or pleasure this time?" "Now, Zeb, you know it's always business," Jonah said as he pulled up to the bar. "'Course, this time it'll be a pleasure too. Seen this fancy dan?" he asked, pulling a battered poster from his coat and smoothing it out on the counter. "Armand D'Nausiemme, $2000 alive, $1000 dead," the bartender read aloud. "Say, the reward's backed by the Net.ropolis Bank. What'd an easterner do that'll get you trackin' him all the way out here?" "Messed up a girl real bad. Tried to kill her father, didn't care who got in the way." "Her dad deserve it?" "Maybe, maybe not. Don't matter none to me...she didn't deserve it, and I might be able t' retire on that two grand," Jonah said, slamming the shot of whiskey the bartender had placed in front of him during the talk. Zeb laughed. "Retire? Jonah, ain't no amount of gold in the world's gonna make you retire...only thing that can do that job is lead. And I'm startin' t' wonder if even THAT can do it. Anyway, I ain't seen this Armand around, sorry. Want yer usual room?" "Yeah, gotta rest these bones...horse died a few miles outside town, hadda hoof it." With that, the bounty hunter slapped some coins on the bar and slowly headed upstairs. -------]==+ <*> +==[------- Jonah hadn't lived as long as he had by being a heavy sleeper, so he was surprised to see a letter on his chest when he awoke that evening. Carefully he opened it and held it to the fading streaks of sunlight coming into the window. Under that ruddy glare, he read, "The man you seek is one of our Order. He has gone rogue but circumstances prevent us from acting directly. You can find him in the worked-out silver mines two miles south of Dead.letter. Dead or alive makes no difference to us." There was no signature, merely a signet ring impression in the shape of some sort of claw. Jonah looked at the setting sun and squinted. "Well, reckon there's time for a decent dinner before it's cool enough t' start walkin' south." -------]==+ <*> +==[------- Most of the way there, Jonah had been wondering why his mysterious informant chose not to say which of the many worked-out mines his prey was in, but as he approached the general area he saw why. Steam belched from pipes that ran along the sides of the mine entrance, dissipating in the starlit sky quickly enough that they wouldn't be visible more than a few hundred yards away. Steam tended not to last long in the dry desert air. No guards. Could be good or bad. They might've been trusting their location to keep them secret, which meant not drawing attention by posting guards. Or maybe he just didn't see the guards. He decided his best bet would be to sneak in and try to get captured instead of killed if someone discovered him. Once inside the tunnel, he had to go by touch since the moonlight was cut off and he didn't want to risk giving himself away with a lamp. Better to see them before they see you. It was a long and hot tunnel, made worse by the steam pipes on either side. But eventually a reddish light began to suffuse the shaft, slowly getting brighter as he pressed on into the bowels of the earth. He'd have pondered the Freudian nature of this all, except he'd never heard of Freud. After a sharp turn, a cutback to keep runaway carts from getting any farther, Jonah came to the end of the tunnel in a huge natural cavern. Dozens of gaslights and normal oil lamps blazed in the chamber, dazzling him for a moment. Then he heard the clicking of hammers being drawn back and bolts being thrown home on rifles. His vision cleared to reveal two things of great importance. One was a tremendous hissing metal monstrosity, like a huge wagon on clawed wheels with drills on the front of it. It looked like a ship built to sail below the earth instead of on the water. The other was the small army of men pointing guns at him. He decided to take the gutsy way out. He pulled the poster out of his coat. "Any of you seen this man? Let me have him and we won't have any trouble." A few of the men chuckled for a moment before a sharp glare cut them off. Jonah looked in the direction the men had glanced, and saw his quarry. "Ah, Mister D'Nausiemme. There's a lot of people back in Net.ropolis that want t' see you." "And see him they will," said another man from the door of the metal contraption. His bearing was aristocratic and military, like an old-style general's. "We will be paying the cities of the east a visit shortly, to convince them to stop their reckless despoiling of this new world." "Well, I'm afraid Mr. D'Nausiemme is gonna have t' travel seperately, sir. He's wanted for attempted murder back east, and I aim t' bring him in." "Why you...!" sputtered Armand before the other man held up a hand to silence him. "I admire your tenacity, hunter, but I'm afraid I do need Armand's services to help run my mole craft. It employs unique technologies of his own design that an old warrior such as myself cannot hope to grasp. Men, restrain the bounty hunter in one of the storage rooms long enough for us to be on our way." Jonah was grabbed by both arms and wrestled down the ramp to a side tunnel. A third man stripped him of his gunbelt and knife. "Wait a moment," Armand commanded, causing the "old warrior" to raise an eyebrow. Armand walked over to Jonah and looked him over carefully. "You have the stink of the Order on you, old man. I knew they were in dire straits after the death of the old Bazrael, but didn't think they were so desperate they'd send a washed up nobody like you after me, StrongARMM," he hissed in Jonah's face. "Those fools refused to embrace the technology I offered them, refused to use it to kill all the Sphammers as soon as they sphammed. Clung to the old mystic mumbo-jumbo. Once the Warlord and I cleanse the eastern seaboard, maybe the Order will give me the respect I deserve." "You know something?" Jonah asked. "What?" "You talk too much," Jonah snarled as he kicked up his legs and wrapped them around Armand's neck, snapping it with a quick twist. "Damn, there goes a thousand dollars." The Warlord strode up to Jonah and grabbed his revolver from the guard holding it, shoving the barrel in Jonah's face. Neither moved for several long seconds. If either was feeling any emotion, it didn't show. Finally, the Warlord dropped the revolver at Jonah's feet and motioned for the men to release him. "You may have doomed half a continent to the predations of modern man and his extravagant sig.files and sphams today, hunter. May you live long enough to see the results of your actions today. Men, begin the evacuation." He turned away from Jonah and started to walk away. "You may wish to leave before the explosive charges are detonated," he added without looking back. Jonah picked up Armand's body and hefted it over his shoulder. "I'm getting too damned old for this," he muttered as he started up the ramp. =========================================================================== Author's Notes: This Tales of the Warlord is based on the Batman: the Animated Series episode "Showdown," with Jonah Hex versus Ra's al Ghul while on the trail of a man named Arkady. Of course, since this story is significantly shorter than a 22-minute cartoon, several elements were cut or changed to bring down the linecount. Unlike the previous two Tales, this Warlord is not exactly one of the good guys, although he does do what he does for the best of intentions, just as Ra's does. ARMM is a retro-moderation scheme championed by Dick Depew, which would moderate a group by cancelling anything that's off-topic. It never really caught on, since it was content-based cancelling, something that few newsadmins will countenance.