Lisa Knight's Blog, page 27

POETRY: MY 12 BORE DESIRE BY PAUL TRISTRAM

“Hey there stranger, long time no see.

So you’re finally back in town,

are you gonna come ‘round and see me?

Michelle’s not here; she’s got a new girlfriend

and she’s hardly ever here anymore,

only comes back to change her clothes

and to pick up her benefit cheques.

I saw that photo Dominique posted

on Facebook last month of you sitting

on the steps of that painted wooden

Gypsy caravan with that ridiculously

gorgeous black-eye, anyways who’s with you?”

“A half quarter bag of sulphate

that reeks of ferret piss,

Four bottles of Thunderbird wine

and my throbbing 12 bore desire!”

“Holy Fuck, I’m undressing right now.

Jump in a taxi, I’m unlatching the door

kick the bastard open when you get here

just jump in a taxi man, come on, quickly!”

Written by Paul Tristram

WEEKLY SERIAL: THE MONSTER OF BELL ISLAND – PART 10 BY JON OLSON

Dr. Roswell was standing over six incubators, which contained controversial test subjects, with an ugly smile on his twisted face. Inside two of them, he’d imprisoned a couple of “Freaks-in-progress.” Once inside, their DNA would rewrite itself; they were exorcised from the human race.

He enjoyed subverting souls that hadn’t previously been corruptible.

After a few hours of genetic torture, they were drafted into an army of mutants so they could do the Underworld’s bidding.

Roswell didn’t like calling them Freaks, but doctors aren’t paid for their opinions.

He took out his phone and started dialling.

“Red Pressman will shortly be arriving on Bell Island,” Dr. Roswell said to whoever he’d called. “This man must not be harmed under any circumstances.”

“What would you like done with him instead?”

Dr. Roswell thought for a moment. “Toss him into the Remnant Pit.”

“Very good, Sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, actually, there is. I’m going to send one of my Freaks after the individual that attacked our boats. It will need supervising.”

“Which one?”

“Little Lady.”

“Understood.”

The conversation ended, and he called Tim Jenkins over.

“Little Lady needs some air,” Dr. Roswell said to his favourite technician. “She’d like a new playmate.” He handed him two pieces of paper. “Read these instructions and then let all break loose.”

Tim swallowed, nervously, before leading the Freak out of Roswell’s laboratory.

Why always me?

***

As Officer Pressman raced across Memorial Bridge, in pursuit of Dr. Roswell, he started thinking about Bull’s honesty. Red needed to believe that he’d find his colleague on Bell Island. Unfortunately for him, Nancy’s revelation about where Carl Garrett had been taken was devious in the extreme.

Knowledge is power when traps are set.

Red looked out at the dark road ahead of him. There was an absence of light on either side of it. Just beyond his destination, dawn had started to make its presence felt across bleak skies that were being enslaved by an impending reprieve.

He smiled as light slowly overcame Memorial Bridge.

Officer Pressman turned into Fulton Road, past a rickety fence that Mammoth had already climbed through, and headed towards an old boat which was stationed at the docks.

Red figured his badge would gain him free passage to Bell Island.

Under certain circumstances, that type of naivety can be deadly.

“Hey!” Officer Pressman exclaimed while running towards the boat. “I need your help!” To his surprise, its captain was on a call and seemed oblivious to Red’s presence. “Sir!” he continued. “I’m an officer who requires immediate assistance.”

They both looked at each other with mistrust.

“I’ll ring you back,” the captain said as he ended his call.

“What can I do for you, officer?”

“Take me to Bell Island.”

“Surely the police department has its own boat?”

“It’ll take too long to get here.”

“That’s your problem.”

Red pulled out his gun. “I must insist—”

“Are you deaf?”

Red, who was angered by the comment, lost his patience and struck out. “I don’t like it when people disrespect me.”

“What?”

“If you don’t comply with my demands, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Why are you being so aggressive?”

“Just do as I ask!”

The captain, who had blood pouring from a weeping wound, glared at Red. Officer Pressman assumed that his employment of brute force had given him an unassailable edge.

He had no idea what he’d walked into.

The captain had a shotgun that he’d already used on Mammoth.

He started to reach for it when his phone rang.

“Am I allowed to answer it?” the captain asked.

“Go ahead,” Red replied.

“Hello, Dr. Roswell. I’ve got an officer with me who’d like to visit the island.”

“Bring him here. I’ll be waiting.”

***

Tim walked through an underground prison which housed anyone who had survived their entry into Roswell’s Freak programme. He was on a wing, with eight cells, that contained the doctor’s favourite genetic miscreants.

He’d been asked to release an abomination into Obscurity City.

She called herself Little Lady.

Tim stepped up to the first door on his right and peered in through a small window. He could see, through her dimly lit room, blonde pigtails with pink bows.

She had been beautiful before being experimented on.

“Dr. Roswell said you can go out and play.”

Little Lady smiled with shark-like teeth.

Tim continued reading his instructions to Roswell’s favourite pet. “We’ve found you a friend. He’s called Mammoth…”

Written by Jon Olson

POETRY: I WANDERED LONELY AS A… DISCARDED SYRINGE CAST INTO THE GUTTER BY PAUL TRISTRAM

Past the Evil breeding in Mans Corrupted Heart.

Watching the Lost, Wounded and Dispossessed.

The Crumbling of Beauty’s Tragic Personality,

the Awful Decaying of once Bright, Hopeful Souls.

Observing SEX used as a Bait, a Trap, a Torture,

Spear and Vice, Fighting, Hammer and Tongs.

The Spite Blooming Ripe as Cancer, Open Violence

Shocking in its Passionately Deranged Intimacy.

Both Lies and Bile smiling Slyly whilst dogfighting

Honesty and Integrity over Guilty, Corrupted pennies.

Innocence’s Rape, Slaughter and Butchering to Applause.

The Rats of Fear and Failure Crowned and Taking Over,

with Death, Disease and Destruction of Standard Ethics

Littering the Rotting Road to Ruin which is now Home.

Written by Paul Tristram

GUEST PUBLICATION SPOTLIGHT: BENTO 15 – SNOW SHARKS BY ZACHARY HOULE

A FREE COPY CAN BE DOWNLOADED HERE

On a night when the moon was at its fullest, snow sharks came for Stanley Burbage. I told an officer what happened, but he didn’t believe me. Who would? I’d been at his party and he’d plied us all with copious amounts of acid.

This meant that none of us could explain what happened to him.

If I hadn’t seen those creatures with my own eyes, I’d have called myself a liar.

“Hey, guys,” he’d yelled at me, Andy and Darren. “Get out of that tree and rejoin my party. There’s a bowl of punch that you’re missing out on.”

He must have figured that it wouldn’t take much to get us down, but I wasn’t going anywhere. No siree. There were sharks on the prowl.

A FREE COPY CAN BE DOWNLOADED HERE

STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: FLUIDITY – SOCIAL LEASH

You can listen to this artist on Soundclick

In a very short space of time indeed, New Zealand’s Fluidity (aka John Paul Carrol, or jp23 on Soundclick’s forums) and his rock muse has gained a lot of earholes around here – in a mere three months or so. Mind you, he is worth the effort, especially if you have a liking for strong, melodic rock music with a distinctly English tinge to it. Out of the three tracks I have reviewed so far – This Time (January 2006), Prediction=Presumption (February 2006) and New Direction (April 2006) – point to Fluidity being a very strong presence this coming year.

Still, you are only as good as your last track, right?

One of the first things that hits you about any of this artist’s work is the attention to detail, both in production and arrangement, music with finesse. Another fine artist who knows exactly how to make a track situp and beg. Believe me, some of the strokes JP pulls in this track are gonna have a few ‘guitar gods’ around here feeling a bit sick. I make a big deal of the early English rock scene because – above anything else – this is what Fluidity’s music suggests to me, time after time. That holds true whether you were talking about the instrumentation, production, songwriting style, vocal intonations and any other element you care to name. I’ve mentioned before a reference to the early Pink Floyd (with Syd Barrett) and Social Leash at least reinforces the Pink Floyd connection.

Not from the musical style, because if anything it is definitely Syd Barrett whimsical rather than Pink Floydian pomposity. It’s in the structure of the music itself that the reference becomes evident, chord progressions and melodies that will definitely harken back to earlier musical times. My only quibble, and it’s so pretty it hardly needs saying, is that I found the vocal treatment a bit dry when taken with the lushness and quality of the music. Nonetheless, it is such a small quibble and although I have to say you might need a taste for this kind of material to really get off on it, I think even a casual listener would be surprised at how cool, slick and professional indie music can sound.

Recommended.

Written by Steve Gilmore

FLASH FICTION: THE WITCH IN THE FOREST BY GUY T MARTLAND

‘Hey, I think you’ve burned my hair!’

‘Me? I told you to watch out for that whippervine.’

‘Yeah, right…’

‘What?’

‘Just… be careful where you swing that thing!’

‘What’s a couple of damaged follicles against what we’ve been tasked with?’

‘I’d like to have some hair when we complete this mission!’

‘Your vanity will be the least of our worries if…’

‘What?’

‘If a whippervine pulls us into the forest—’

‘I’ll be digested by creepweed, right?’

‘Bones and all.’

‘Maybe we should climb a bit higher?’

‘Agreed. If we traverse this canopy—’

‘I’ll be able to breathe again!’

‘Yeah, that’s why I suggested it! Anyway, where is everyone?’

‘Maybe they’re on the hill? There are some ruins that we can explore.’

‘I think it’s just a pile of old stones…’

‘What does it matter? We’re running low on fuel.’

‘My determination… remains absolute.’

‘Speak for yourself.’

‘You’d better not be giving up on me!’

‘I haven’t! I’m just tired of the smell of burnt vegetation.’

‘It’s a good thing as these flamethrowers won’t last forever.’

‘I know. So, how much further?’

‘The way in is almost within our reach.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The Saubern live in these trees.’

‘What! Where are they then?’

‘They move around a lot and only occasionally live up here. This particular group has built a network above the creepweed.’

‘Are we going to meet some of their experimental creatures?’

‘I expect so.’

‘Sounds like a bestiary of fun. Anyway, out of curiosity, why don’t all the Saubern live in trees?’

‘They like to be unpredictable.’

‘Mission accomplished!’

‘I’ve heard that some of them live in dripstone caves.’

‘How odd!’

‘They suit them because it brings their beliefs to life.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The Black Forest is said to be enchanted.’

‘Magic?’

‘Yes, it’s rife with legends of strange creatures.’

‘What kind?’

‘There are werewolves, elves, nymphs and a witch who turned herself into rocks. Then there’s the king who lived under water; he’d drag women down to his domain so he could enslave them.’

‘What about dragons?’

‘They’ve only been talked about in the last few years.’

‘It’s a miracle that these people have managed to survive…’

‘Much like us, they’re beating the odds.’

‘So far! We’ve had a few incidents that have threatened our existence.’

‘Not from where I’m standing.’

‘Whatever! You know, the Pyro machines that Fenix created, they never ran out of fuel.’

‘Really?’

‘They took all they needed from the air.’

‘Come on! That’s impossible.’

‘It isn’t! Anyway, are the legends that you spoke of… real?’

‘Humans have always been mythmakers. This is how stories are born.’

‘I was hoping to meet a werewolf.’

‘Some of the Saubern aren’t that far removed from such creatures.’

‘Hey, wait a minute! Haven’t we passed this tree before?’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I recognise the marks.’

‘What made them?’

‘Werewolves? I’m beginning to think we’re lost.’

‘I don’t know. Maybe we’re under some kind of spell.’

‘I’m sure there’s someone influencing us from within those ruins.’

‘Where?’

‘I think it’s the witch.’

‘Fear not, I’ve heard that she’s harmless.’

‘Are you sure?

‘She only watches over local vineyards to ensure that their grapes produce the finest wines in Europe.’

‘So, she’s a good witch?’

‘Luckily for us!’

‘Is that other thing as good?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I hope it isn’t an alien machine…’

‘There are three of them! Birds? No! They’re bigger than that.’

‘Get your flamethrower ready!’

‘They’re closing in on our location!’

‘Maybe the witch was trying to warn us about their impending arrival?’

‘At least we didn’t meet anyone else.’

‘The king? He’s down there. I’m certain of it.’

‘Just like you know where Fenix is?’

‘He’s real. Not a myth.’

‘Sometimes, fables are grounded in reality.’

END

Written by Guy T Martland

GUEST PUBLICATION SPOTLIGHT: BENTO 15 – ALUAKI VS SMILODON BY MATTHEW J BARBOUR

A FREE COPY CAN BE DOWNLOADED HERE

The chase had been brief.

Aluaki didn’t know which side was winning.

His prey had been cornered by a pack of wild canines that were trying to keep away from its huge fangs as it bared them beneath the afternoon sun.

He was standing over them as they howled and bayed.

Aluaki hadn’t expected his opponent to look so intimidating.

One of the dogs had already fallen to their feline foe.

He was lying beneath its foot as it roared in defiance.

The hunter hesitated, briefly, before notching a dart in his atlatl.

A FREE COPY CAN BE DOWNLOADED HERE

STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: EL84 – YOU’LL SEE

You can listen to this artist on Soundclick

Way back in July 2004 I wrote ‘(It) left me with strong impressions of Carlos Santana before he lost the fire; a passionate, fluid, emotional sound that fully explores the guitars fretboard’ about a lead guitarist I had just come across called Ty Kaufman. A very impressive debut – at least in my books – and the Ty Kaufman Group (as the band became known) slammed to killer classic rock tracks at us over the next year. They then – obviously – changed their name to EL84 and have continued in like manner right up to the present. The band, then, is Steve Calapp (vocals), Bill Doss (bass) and Amado Tuazon on drums. Bill Doss was a replacement for the original TKG bassist Kevin Grant. Now, having given you more information than you could ever possibly want or need, let’s crack on…

As a real, live gigging band, you would expect this outfit to know how to deliver a nice steaming plate of what does you good and in that respect, they have never let me down yet. There again, I am a well known rock animal so you should bear that in mind while reading on. You’ll See – to my ears anyway – is a bit of a surprise. I was, after all, expecting the usual Kaufman pyrotechnics and this contains little in the way of that, unless you count the killer (K-I-L-L-E-R) lead solo that embeds the centre of the track like an exquisite belly button. Certainly, it’s a softer, more rounded side to the band even though the rock roots show through every note that is played.

You’ll See is a classic American rock track; acoustic, radio friendly and with more than a touch of Bon Jovi around the vocals and the lyrics. Still, no bad thing really because that is where EL84 have set their sights ever since I first heard them and – should there be any justice in the world – that is where they will end up. In the meantime we get a very professional, wonderfully melodic piece of soft rock that would fit into anyone’s collection without the slightest murmur of complaint. As good as Ty is (and he is, the b****!!!), this time I personally feel the real star is Steve Calapp who delivers the vocals beautifully in a clear, clean rock voice that effortlessly pulls out that hard edge when it’s needed. Rock isn’t to everyone’s taste, but it is to mine, and this is one of the best examples around.

Recommended, especially for a change of pace.

Written by Steve Gilmore

GUEST PUBLICATION SPOTLIGHT: BENTO 15 – WOOLY FERN by JANIE CANNARELLA

A FREE COPY CAN BE DOWNLOADED HERE

It’s true animal and true vegetable. And you’ve never heard such pitiful bleating. I happened upon it thinking it was a mirage: both plant and beast, huge pods blooming white wool.

The bush breeds seedlings of living meat, the lamb’s downy stomach connected to the umbilical cord of the shrub – stretching up, and down, and sinewy so that the flesh and blood creatures could graze on nearby grass.

A FREE COPY CAN BE DOWNLOADED HERE

FAN FICTION: EXILES #4 – DEATH REPELLANT” (“BECAUSE I COULD NOT STOP FOR DEATH”) T3

Listen up Game fans, ’cause this is only comin’ once!

In one cornah, we have Dragon’s Claws – the best Game team ever to set foot on this ‘ere Earth! Dragon, Mercy, Scavenger, Digit, and Steel… how can anyone hope to beat them down? Especially on the Claws’ home turf?

In th’ other cornah, we got the Exiles – new to the Game, and apparently weaponless! Do Aleta, Scamp, Firefly, Doc Savage, Daywalker, and Ph-Eros have what it takes to earn the title of the ‘best players in the world’?

I doubt it!

Now… LET’S GET READY TO RUUUUMMMBLE!

Dragon’s Claws’ Base

If the Exiles hadn’t just walked through a mechanised steel door set into a long steel wall, they never would have guessed that they were inside a building in the middle of the eighty-second century London desert.

All around them were boulders and small mounds of rubble, with the occasional trench or fallen tree. A few hundred meters away in every direction, tall mountains rose into the sky. Above them, they could see the clear blue sky stretching forever in every direction.

But they knew better – they were in the headquarters of Dragon’s Claws, the world’s premiere Game players. What the Exiles didn’t know, however, is what the Game was – although there was little doubt that they would soon be finding out.

“Let the Game begin!” a loud voice blared over the public address system.

From all of the various rock mounds, laser rifles on swiveling bases sprung forth, aimed at the Exiles. Instinctively, Aleta erected a solid light shield around her body just as the rifles fired. She and most of the Exiles, were uninjured in the attack; Scamp, however, was not so lucky.

A crimson laser blast struck the young woman’s shoulder, sending her reeling. She fell to the ground, the torn red fabric on the right shoulder of her uniform growing dark as it was stained with blood.

“SCAMP!” Firefly cried as the unconscious girl did not rise. In less than a second, he had shrunk to the size of an insect, and two barely visible translucent wings had sprung from his back. He flapped his way over to the end of the rifle that had fired at Scamp, touched it, and with a dim silver flash the end of the rifle was reduced to slag.

The boy has powers, Aleta thought. I wonder why he waited until now to reveal them?

Scamp was unconscious, and this simply added to Firefly’s rage. He swooped and ducked quickly, blasting many of the laser turrets but damaging only a few.

“Firefly, stop!” Aleta called. “Attacking like that will get us nowhere. We need to formulate a plan…”

“Face it, babe,” Ph-Eros said from Aleta’s right, “by the looks of it, he’s the only one of us that can do any damage. My powers are useless against those turrets, and from what I know Daywalker’s are useless as well. It’s up to you and bugboy there to fight this fight!”

While Ph-Eros and Aleta spoke, Firefly took out most of the turrets. He was too small for them to lock onto, and he managed to get to them before they could blast any of his teammates.

“Nice work, Exiles,” a loud voice blared again. “Now for something completely different.”

The complex suddenly grew very dark. Aleta attempted to raise her arms to defend herself, but as soon as she twitched she felt her arms pinned back very forcefully. She tried to pull herself free, but the figure that was holding her wrapped its leg around hers, rendering her totally unable to move.

Suddenly, bright white lights began to flash on and off suddenly, accompanying by an incredibly loud wailing sound. Aleta tried to call out to her teammates, but any sound that she made was lost in the horrible din.

One sound did manage to penetrate the wailing. Behind her, Aleta could hear a bellowing sound as the Doctor began to transform. She heard the Doctor roar loudly as he ended his transition into Doc Savage.

He bounded forward, and Aleta managed to catch a few glimpses of him in the almost blinding white flashes of light. He barreled right past her, and suddenly, the flashes stopped and wailing stopped.

“Doctor, help me!” she yelled before her mouth was covered with a gloved hand. Aleta began to be dragged backwards, but after a few moments she heard Ph-Eros’ somewhat feminine voice murmur “Release” and her captor’s grip slackened.

Aleta jutted her elbow back, and he figure that had been holding her fell to the ground with a thud. She could not see her fallen enemy or Ph-Eros. She concentrated for a moment, and her hands began to glow, surrounded by orbs of solid light. They lit up the area for about half a meter in every direction, and Aleta could finally see Ph-Eros standing a few feet away.

Doc Savage still bellowed in the distance, but Aleta could not see him.

“Ph-Eros,” she began, “see if you can – ugh!”

She was interrupted by a leg swinging around and knocking her legs out from under her. She fell to the ground, and her solid light globes disappeared. Her attacked wrapped it’s arms around her legs and rolled her away from Ph-Eros. Aleta kicked one of her legs out and felt it contact with her attacker just as the light suddenly came back on in the facility.

“Who are you?” Aleta asked. “Why do you insist on engaging us in combat?”

“I am Mercy, a member of Dragon’s Claws,” Aleta’s attacker, a white-haired young woman garbed in pink tights began, “mine is a rather ironic name – for mercy is not something I often show!”

From her sleeve came a long shiv that Mercy hurled at Aleta’s head. Aleta barely managed to duck as it came whizzing past.

“That answers my first question. Now, why are you fighting us?”

“Are you an idiot? We’re rival Game teams. It’s what we do!”

Aleta kicked her legs free and jumped to her feet as Mercy did the same. She took a quick look around the room and saw Daywalker lunging to tackle an olive-skinned man with goggles and orange hair; Doc Savage, in his burly green form, had his arms pinned by a yellow-skinned man with slanted eyes; Firefly was nowhere to be seen; and above it all, on top of a huge mound of rocks stood a man in green body armour carrying a large rifle.

Aleta turned back to Mercy. “Listen, we don’t even know what this Game is! We didn’t come here to fight! We came here seeking information!”

“Sure,” Mercy said, lunging for Aleta. She leaped into the air, crashed into Aleta, and brought the heroine to the ground. “Digit, it’s time to finish this.”

Aleta followed Mercy’s gaze, which had wandered to the rock mound. Inside a small crevice was a short, red-haired man busily handling a computer. He turned from the computer for a moment to retrieve three odd-looking shackles. He threw one to the man that was holding Doc Savage, and climbed out of the crevice to approach Mercy.

“Daywalker!” Aleta yelled. “Retreat! Find Joseph!”

Daywalker, distracted by Aleta, fell prey to his opponent’s attack. A metal-gloved hand struck Daywalker’s chin and knocked him to the ground.

From the top of the mound, the armoured man raised his hand. “Let the lady go, Mercy.”

“But we’ve got them, Dragon! I – “

“I said to let her go.”

Mercy climbed off of Aleta, and Aleta stood and brushed herself off. Her costume was slightly torn from her left shoulder to her neck, but there was nothing she could really do about it.

Mercy stepped back, scowling as Dragon approached Aleta.

“I don’t think you came here to fight us. I’m Dragon, the leader of Dragon’s Claws. Who are you?” Dragon asked.

“I am Aleta,” Aleta replied. “The people that I came here with are the Exiles. We wanted information, and someone named Deller outside said we should ask here.”

“Ms. Deller is my wife,” Dragon explained. “I am sorry about your friends. I’ll see to it that they get medical attention.” Dragon snapped his fingers, and the Exiles were led away – except for Doc Savage. He thrashed about, and Aleta finally realised that Ph-Eros was missing.

“Steel will be able to handle the green oaf,” Dragon said. “What is it that you wanted to know?”

“We need to find a man named Spratt.”

“Spratt…” Dragon spat at the ground. “Spratt is a member of another game team. A very bad game team that we were about to take out, Scavenger.” Dragon indicated the man who had been fighting Daywalker was also a member of their group.

“I need to find them, and I need the Exiles to come with me – “

“The Exiles aren’t going anywhere. Mercy and I will come with you. We can protect you better than they can anyway.”

This isn’t going well at all, Aleta thought.

Outside Dragon’s Claws’ Base

Joseph had walked across the desert for two hours before finding the Exiles. He’d been wary of using his powers as Aleta had, for fear that in this world, like the world that he had been plucked from, the populace would fear mutants and their amazing abilities.

When he finally arrived at the settlement that housed the base of Dragon’s Claws, he was stunned to find a mob gathered around the three-storey building in the center of town.

He approached a gawker, and asked what was going on.

“Dragon’s Claws are fighting a new game team,” the gawker explained, “some group calling themselves the ‘Exiles’. We’re waiting for the announcement of the victor!”

Joseph furrowed his brow. “What is ‘the game’?”

“You don’t know? What rock do you crawl out from under, buddy?” the man asked. “The Game, devised by the World Development Council to curb civil unrest, involves two teams with a varying number of plays fighting through any means necessary. Most teams avoid using lethal force, but some don’t. When one team is no longer able to fight, the other team wins. Simple.”

“Are Dragon’s Claws a good team?”

“The best. No-one has ever fought them twice.”

Joseph felt anxious. Did the man mean that Dragon’s Claws killed their opponents? Were the Exiles – was Aleta – dead? He had to know. He concentrated, allowing his ability to manipulate magnetism come to the fore. When he was ready, he unleashed the full fury of his powers, wrenching off one of the steel plates that formed one wall of the base.

“Whoa!” the gawker cried as many heads turned to see what had happened. “How did you – “

Joseph didn’t let the man finish. He strolled into the base, where the many mounds of rocks and dirt had been replaced by cold metal walls. In one corner sat Digit, unaware of Joseph’s presence as he busily typed away at his computer.

Joseph waved his hand in the computer’s direction, and the machine switched off. “Where are the Exiles?” Joseph asked.

Digit turned, in his seat, to face Joseph. He was carrying a long laser rifle.

The Desert

The Dragon’s Claws sandsled sped across the dusty desert with Mercy at the controls as Dragon and Aleta spoke inside the vehicle’s cabin. It was a rickety machine, and Aleta feared that if it hit even a slight bump that it would fall to pieces. It was all that she could do to keep her balance as the sled moved forward at immense speed.

“Why do you want Spratt?” Dragon asked.

“We need his help.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t think that that is any of your business.”

Dragon grabbed Aleta’s arm roughly. “I decide what my business is. Tell me what you need Spratt for. Now.”

Aleta pulled her arm free. “Do not dare to touch me again,” she stepped back. “Spratt is supposed to help us build a device to prevent a robotic bounty hunter arriving in this timeline.”

“A robot? I don’t believe any of it.”

“I am telling the truth,” Aleta said. “You will see when we get to Spratt.”

Inside Dragon’s Claws’ Base

Digit was no longer carrying a long laser rifle.

It now hovered two feet away from his face, aimed squarely at the space between his eyes.

“Where are the Exiles?” Joseph asked.

“How are you doing that?!?” Digit asked, terrified. “How’re you making my rifle just float there?”

“I am a mutant,” Joseph explained. “I am a master of magnetism. Answer my question.”

“I don’t know what a mutant is, man!” Digit cried. “But your friends are through there.” He pointed to a small, open doorway on the other side of the room. Joseph turned to the door as Digit reached for a knife in his pocket. Before Digit could throw it, Joseph swung the rifle around, hitting Digit in the face with its butt. The red-haired man fell to the ground.

Joseph determinedly walked out of the room as the many gawkers he had seen outside stared in amazement. When he entered the next chamber, he saw the Exiles being dragged through another doorway. He used his powers to tear a piece of steel plating out of the wall through which the door allowed access, and stormed through it.

“Let my associates go,” Joseph demanded. It was then that he noticed Firefly, Ph-Eros and Aleta were not among the captive Exiles. “Where are the other Exiles?” he asked.

Scavenger dropped Scamp, whom he was holding under one arm, and let go of Daywalker, whom he was dragging behind him. He snarled at Joseph before looking at Steel, who was easily restraining Doc Savage.

Steel nodded, and Scavenger leaped. He sprang high into the air, pulling a shiv from the inside of his right pants leg as he came down towards Joseph. Joseph flexed his wrist, and the metal shiv was forcefully pulled to the ceiling, where it was magnetically held. Scavenger’s hand was crushed between the shiv and the ceiling.

“Ungh!” Scavenger cried out as Joseph turned his attention to Steel.

“Let the Doctor go,” Joseph said, walking over to stand beside the green behemoth, and it’s captor. Steel shook his head, and before Joseph could react he stuck out his leg and kicked Joseph hard in the ribs.

“Uh!” Joseph yelped, stumbling back out of Steel’s reach.

“Relax,” Joseph heard Ph-Eros’ familiar voice whisper. Steel slumped to the ground, releasing Doc Savage, who immediately turned toward Joseph. “Calm,” Ph-Eros said, making Savage revert to the calm form of Stephen Strange.

“Where are Aleta and Firefly?” Joseph asked, clutching his ribs as he tried to stand.

“They’re on their way somewhere with Dragon, the man whose ‘Claws’ we just fought. Dragon is showing them where to find that Spratt guy,” Ph-Eros explained. “I smuggled Firefly aboard their little sled in case Aleta needed backup while I rescued everybody else.”

“Excellent job,” Joseph said sarcastically. “Where were you while I fought the Asians and the man with a gun?”

“I was looking for somewhere to patch Scamp up, actually,” Ph-Eros answered. “She’s hurt. Badly.”

“That can be dealt with later,” Joseph said. “Tell me which way Aleta and Dragon went.”

“I don’t know,” Ph-Eros said.

“I can find them,” the Doctor said. He looked to the sky and closed his eyes, and started to levitate. He passed through a solid steel ceiling and out of sight.

“That man is insufferable!” Joseph yelled.

“I don’t think you’re listening, Joseph. Scamp is badly hurt. We need to help her.”

“Fine,” Joseph muttered. “What do we do?”

The Chaney Maximum Security Prison

The Chaney Maximum Security Prison was built, in 8113, to house the criminals that society had decided it wanted to lose forever. The lowest of the low – murderers, rapists, and above all Game cheats – were sent there to see how well they could fend among their own rotten kind.

Then, in 8152, it was discovered that the prison had been built on a major fault line. Whether or not this was accidental was never determined. In fact, there was no documentation to support that anyone even asked whether or not the prison was placed on the fault line intentionally.

The prison was swallowed up by the Earth in less than ten minutes. The authorities assumed that all prisoners on the lower levels had been killed instantly.

They were wrong.

But Dragon’s Claws knew the truth.

As the Claws’ sandsled dipped into the canyon that contained what was left of the prison, Aleta was stunned. The hole in which the prison sat was surrounded on all sides by seemingly unscalable cliffs. Aleta doubted that anybody who still lived in the prison could obtain food or water from the outside, but apparently the prison’s occupants did.

“Spratt is in there?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Dragon replied. “He and the cheating game team to which he belonged were sent to Chaney years ago, before an earthquake swallowed the prison. The prisoners have now banded together and call themselves the Chain Gang, now, and even have their own Game team that the Claws have fought on more than one occasion.”

“Your friend Scavenger was a member of this group?”

“Yes. We were going to use information that he gave us to take the Chain Gang out once and for all.”

“You mean that you were going to kill them?” Aleta asked. Dragon didn’t answer.

The skysled settled a few dozen meters away from the prison, and it’s occupants stepped out to approach the giant pit in which the prison rested. When they were a meter away, Mercy forcefully shifted a boulder that had been covering a passage that Aleta guessed would lead into the prison.

Mercy leaped into the hole, and Aleta turned to Dragon.

“You go first,” Dragon insisted, pointing his rifle at Aleta. Aleta followed Mercy and found that a flight of very steep stairs had been dug into the side of the tunnel. With some level of difficulty, she was able to scale them, and she eventually found herself standing beside Mercy in a dimly lit room. As Dragon arrived behind Aleta, the lights came on, and Aleta saw that on the other side of the room, no less than ten men stood, armed to the teeth with chains strapped across their chests.

“Well well well,” one of the men, wearing a red suit of armour, blue boots, and spiked silver shoulder pads remarked. “Look who’s come back. Here to kidnap another of our members, Dragon?”

“Maybe, Fox,” Dragon replied. “We’re here to see Spratt.”

“Over my dead body!” Fox yelled. He turned to one of his companions and tore the chains off of the man’s otherwise bare chest. Taking one in each hand, he began to spin them around his head. Dragon did not prepare to defend himself – instead, he nodded at Mercy.

Mercy jumped at Fox, and in one swift movement she grabbed the chains that Fox had been preparing to use as weapons. She landed and pulled, drawing Fox close so that she could kick him – hard – in the stomach. Fox reeled back and snapped his fingers to summon his men to battle.

“Are you an idiot, Fox?” Dragon asked.

“No, I – ” Before Fox could properly respond, Dragon nodded to Mercy again and the white-haired vixen pulled hard on the chain in her right hand. Fox tripped and fell flat on the ground in front of Mercy. Mercy pulled on the other chain, lifting Fox’s torso up, and said “You should have dropped the chains, genius.” before making sure that his face connected with her boot with a sickening snap.

“You were right, Dragon. He was an idiot,” Mercy said smugly.

Dragon smirked. “Fox could kick all of your butts, and look at what Mercy did to him. Do the rest of you wish to join him on the floor?”

Fox’s men shook their heads and backed as far away from Dragon as they could.

“Now where’s Spratt?” Dragon asked. One of Fox’s men pointed to a doorway beside the entrance to the tunnel that Dragon, Mercy, and Aleta had used to gain access to the subterranean prison.

“Mercy, stay here and watch them,” Dragon ordered. “Come on, Aleta. We’ll find Spratt, but if you lied to me…”

“I did not lie, Dragon,” Aleta insisted, stepping in front of Dragon and leading the way.

Dragon’s Claws’ Base

Joseph and Ph-Eros had finally found a medical bay inside the sprawling complex that served as the base of Dragon’s Claws. The medical machinery turned out to be quite primitive by both Ph-Eros and Joseph’s standards, and Joseph had easily been able to set Scamp and Daywalker up while Ph-Eros watched. Joseph explained the basics to Ph-Eros, so that the young mutant would know what to do in the case of an emergency.

“I’m going to find Aleta,” Joseph said. “While we were looking for this room, I saw a communications center. There was a monitor that was following a moving vehicle. If that is the vehicle in which Aleta and Dragon departed, I will follow it and join them.”

Ph-Eros nodded. “You tied up the Claws?”

“Yes,” Joseph replied as he left the room, “after a fashion.”

Ph-Eros smiled as Joseph departed, wondering just what the master of magnetism meant. When Joseph was gone, he watched Scamp for a few minutes before reviewing Daywalker’s vital statistics. It was only then that he noticed something startling. According to the instruments in the medical bay, Daywalker’s heart was not beating, but when Ph-Eros examined his companion he discovered that the man was breathing.

“What the…?” Ph-Eros wondered aloud.

The Chaney Maximum Security Prison

The door to which Dragon and Aleta had been referred led directly to Spratt’s laboratory. Spratt was a young scientist, and before being sent to prison with the rest of the Game team that would one day form the Chain Gang, he had been responsible for devising armoured suits and weapons for his teammates to use while playing the Game.

His time in prison had allowed him to refine and further his abilities, and he had eventually become one of the world’s top engineers – even if the rest of the world would never know.

He stood over some test tubes that were filled with orange liquid, his back to Aleta and Dragon as they entered the laboratory. He had medium-length curly red hair, pointy, protruding ears, and wore an old army officer’s uniform. At his side were two gun holsters, but instead of guns they held long knives.

“Spratt?” Aleta asked. Spratt turned, clumsily knocking over the test tubes that he had been looking at earlier.

“Darn!” he muttered. “Who are you?”

“I am Aleta,” Aleta replied, “and this is – “

“I know who he is.”

“Very well. I am here to seek your aid, Spratt.”

Spratt laughed, and Aleta saw that he also had a pair of bucked teeth. “You’re joking, right?”

“I am certainly not. I have been sent to obtain your services,” Aleta said seriously.

“I’m listening.”

“I have been sent from the thirty-first century to prevent a murderous robot from entering this timeline and probably killing hundreds or thousands of people,” Aleta explained, “and I was told that you would be able to help erect a barrier that could deflect the robot before he could enter this time continuum.”

“Okay,” Spratt said simply.

“Okay?” Aleta asked. “You agree to help? I did not think that you would even believe me.” She looked at Dragon.

“Well, I don’t actually know how to erect a barrier like that, and I’ve never dealt with time travel before, but if you really did come from another point in time you should have a kind of temporal aura around you that I can scan, and if I can discover the frequency on which it resides I can quite probably recreate it and attach it to another object, sending that travelling through time.”

“I will take your word for it, Spratt. I did not understand a word that you said.”

“No-one ever does,” Spratt remarked as he fumbled under a table. “Ah. Stand still.” He withdrew a small, handheld device that he pointed at Aleta. Aleta immediately moved into a defensive stance, but Spratt quickly put the device away.

“What kind of weapon was that?!?” Aleta asked.

“It wasn’t a weapon,” Spratt said. “I was scanning you to find a frequency on which your temporal aura reverberates.”

“Oh,” Aleta said, bewildered.

“Here we go,” Spratt once again reached under the table and withdrew a large, fancy looking gun. He pointed it at Aleta and at that instant Firefly, who had been nestled in Aleta’s long blonde hair flew out and returned to full-size, standing between Aleta and the gun.

“Don’t you dare fire that!” Firefly shouted. “Hand it over. Now!”

“Firefly…?” Aleta wondered. “Firefly, there is no danger. Step away from Spratt.”

“He has a gun, Aleta!” Firefly yelled.

“Yes,” the Doctor’s voice could be heard above the group, “but his is not the one that is aimed at your head.”

Aleta and Firefly turned and saw that Dragon had withdrawn his own weapon and aimed it at the back of Firefly’s head, despite now looking up at the Doctor’s floating form.

“Where the hell did you two come from?!” Dragon asked.

“Somewhere beyond your ken,” the Doctor replied. He looked down at Dragon, made a slight hand movement, and a blue streak quickly moved from his hand to Dragon’s head. Dragon remained perfectly still.

“Fine,” Firefly said. “Keep your gun, but at least explain how it works to us.”

“There won’t be time for that,” Spratt explained. “According to my scanner, temporal energy, not unlike that which surrounds your bodies is building up in this room.”

“What does that mean?” Firefly asked.

“A time traveler is on its way,” the Doctor replied.

The Doctor was right. Behind Aleta and Firefly, a sparkling ball of blue energy appeared, and began to grow larger. Aleta and Firefly turned and upon seeing it, stepped away from it.

“If I’m right, when your robotic friend appears I should be able to fire this at him, and he’ll go back where he came from,” Spratt explained.

“And if you’re wrong?” Firefly asked.

“You’ll have a robot to deal with. I’m doing you a favour, remember – don’t nag me about it! You’re lucky I even did this, you ungrateful – “

“Spratt?” Firefly said.

“Yes?”

“Fire the gun now.”

Spratt looked at where the ball of blue energy had once been and saw that it had been replaced with a seven-foot-tall robot. On his back were two maces and a sword. A spiked shield was attached to his arm, and two red horns protruded from his forehead.

“I am Death’s Head,” it said with a metallic voice, “a freelan – “

Spratt fired the gun, hitting the robot in the middle of the chest. Immediately, the robot began to melt into the blue energy that it had been earlier.

“This is becoming a bother, yes?” Death’s Head said as he disappeared in a flash of blue light.

“We did it!” Firefly cheered.

“It would seem so,” the Doctor said as he passed up through the ceiling and out of sight once again.

“Thank you, Spratt,” Aleta said. “We would not have been successful without your help.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” Spratt replied. “Oh, before I forget, you might want to this with you!” Spratt placed the gun between his legs and wrenched off the barrel with his hands. He reached into the butt of the gun and removed a small clear orb, which he handed to Aleta.

“What is this?” Aleta asked.

“When I scanned you, I noticed something,” Spratt said. “That orb will allow you to – “

Before Spratt could finish, Firefly and Aleta had both disappeared in flashes of blue light…

Dragon’s Claws’ Base

As Aleta and Firefly engaged Spratt’s help many miles away, Daywalker and Scamp suddenly woke up.

“Hey!” Ph-Eros cried, startled. “You’re both al – “

NEXT ISSUE: A world trapped in darkness… an army of the night… and only one Exile can save the day in this special two-part story written by Jensen DuVernet!

Written by Adrian J. Watts of SoftPixels.net