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-------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A .
singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora
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OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 036--3/30/95
<-------  ||  OsoaWeek  ||  Issues  ||  Book 3  ||  ------->
(Cup OWis036, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999)

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[[BEGIN036OW]]



[[01036CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 0 3 6 * * * March 30, 1995
"The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!"
by Frank Edward Nora

INSIDE THIS ISSUE!
* Goodness gracious--what have I wrought?!?
* Mortal Kombat III--First Impression
* Troubling Duran Duran Stories
* Tank Girl--in the '80s terrible film tradition
* "Obliviana War" Notes
* "Starship Troopers"
* Zarephath, NJ
* "Then the girl on the making of video crew."
* Enter Quarrel Orchard
* Enter Thiffor
* Enter Bicker Carbon
* Enter Rovald Ancien AKA Repsille Dant
* Enter Vow Les Couger
* Enter Frommy Juncic
* Enter Carroll Mammock
* Enter Anderson Prickwood
* Enter Nesmith Strake
* And a whole lot more!
* DO YOU WANT THIS? YEAH, YOU DO.

(Permission is granted to make complete, verbatim, digital ASCII copies of this copyrighted ezine for the purpose of free distribution. All other forms of reproduction require written permission from Frank Edward Nora.)

OsoaWeek is published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, and originates from New Jersey, USA. Copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora .
All contents by Frank Edward Nora unless otherwise noted.Phone: 1-800 OBLIVIANA
E-mail: obliviana@aol.com
Mail: Osoa, P.O. Box 60, Iselin, NJ 08830-0060

Character count: 54554 / Line count: 1688

The Table of Contents is at the very end of this file.

For the mail order Catalog of Obliviana, send an e-mail request to obliviana@aol.com.

*OW*



[[02036HR]] Hemisinister Review

***THE ARCADE***

MORTAL KOMBAT 3
4/11/95--4 days before the official launch, the arcade at the Menlo Park Mall has it up and running! That was last night, and I watched a big gang of kinda scary looking kids play it for about 40 minutes. I think it was prototype version 4 or something--cause the machine crashed once while they were playing it and it reset.

Now even though I pretty much hated Mortal Kombat II after finding out all its secrets, MK3 is brand new and just chock full of secrets! It was great to see these young whippersnappers play the game without knowing any of the finishing moves! I did see one Animality though--of at least part of one. It's cool--the designers of the game put in a lot of stuff which was just part of silly rumors about MK2.

The new set of characters is great. Kano and Sonya return (big deal), and there are a slew of new kombatants. My absolute favorite so far is Sindel--a vampire-like babe with a banshee yell and mouth fireballs. She can also grab opponents with her black-streaked gray hair. Sheeva, a female of Goro's race, is also cool.

The action now takes place on Earth, and the backgrounds I saw were splendid. Overall, it looks far better than its predecessors. I think this version of MK might be the classic in centuries to come. And kids across the country are already calling their local video game store asking if they have it yet for home systems!


***CD'S***

DURAN DURAN--THANK YOU
Let me tell you--last week I went to a Duran Duran signing at Sam Goody in the city--I figured there might be a few people there--but I was the a half-hour early so there shouldn't have been a problem. Right! WRONG! VERY WRONG! As I approached the store something came into view. It was... a horde. The line stretched from the store entrance on 6th Ave. near 8th St., all the way down the block, then down another block to Macdougal St., then all the way back up to 8th. St. again! I scanned the crowd and took in the sight--thousands of Duran Duran fans, some clearly of the obsessive, no-life category. So I decided that even though I was pretty sure I'd never make it in, it might be fun on the line. And it was.

I got on line at about 4:35 pm, and Duran Duran were supposed to start signing their new cover album "Thank You" in 25 minutes. In front of me were two nice-looking girls from NJ who'd driven over an hour to get there. There was also a NY girl, a little weirder, who became part of our temporary line clique. Behind us were a gaggle of goth/punk/whatever chicks--gaunt, dressed all in black, black lipstick, black hair--except that one who had purple hair. The funny thing was one of these girls had like a four-year-old kid. Funny--you never see these subculturalites as responsible enough to be parents. But they were quite friendly and full of good humor.

I became sort of a comedian, making wry comments about the situation to the well-over-half-a-dozen girls surrounding me. I was in that line for about 2-and-a-half hours, and I came to like my new group of temporary friends. A real Dashic sort of experience.

Anyway, it was freezing, damp, and windy. A guy was selling coffee to folks in the crowd and I kept trying to get his attention by waving money in the air. Eventually, after about an hour and a block, I got the coffee I so craved.

Talking to these John, Simon, and Nick obsessed gals, I began wondering if I didn't seem a little odd. I guess I did, but who gives a f*ck?

After around two-and-a-half hours, a decoy limousine drove by and the line degenerated into an angry mob. I lost all my new friends, as well as any chance of meeting Duran Duran.

Oh well. At least it gave me something to write about.

As for "Thank You", it's good. The selections may be a little too precious, though. "The Crystal Ship" (by The Doors) is the best here. And I'm getting into some of the songs I wasn't familiar with.

But this whole Duran Duran business was around a week-and-a-half ago and it's like way old news.


***MOVIES***

TANK GIRL

Why? How? Tank Girl is a good comic strip--what happened to make it such a horrendous film? I don't know, but this movie is remarkably bad. What's weird about it is that it has the look and feel of a bad '80s movie. Think "Ice Pirates".

The producers must have known they were building a disaster--'cause they decided to edit in a massive number of still frames from the comic strip, as well as animated segments. These are actually good--unfortunately though, they don't do anything to save the Titanic here.

Lori Petty is confused and low-energy in the title role. The bright spot in the mess is her girl buddy Jet, played by some British babe. Malcolm MacDowell and Ice-T are wasted as villain and reluctant ally. Iggy Pop's pedophile cameo was okay, though.

Catch this movie on cable at 3 am while you're semi-conscious and you might get something out of it

*OW*



[[03036LA]] Lord of Obliviana

Hey there kiddies! Lord of Obliviana here comin' atcha! Testing! Testing! Am I on?

Olright. Gotta say, things are crazy, very. Right now I'm on the 11:40 pm train home--complete with a lotta drunken fools and Chinese babbling idiots. This issue is right now just two weeks late, but it'll slip a bit farther before seeing the light of day. Because of this, THE EMERGENCY CONTINUES!

Of course, this means that just about anything goes when it comes to filling up this issue. Unfortunately, I don't have any acceptable archive material at hand just now, so I'll have to try and finish this one with all original writing.

I'm falling asleep. I can't stay awake! Not good--I wanted to get some work done. But so tired... so fatigued.

Tomorrow is another day.

Yeah, it was another day, now yesterday.

Now I'm sitting in my girlfriend's Neon at the park. She's about to do some rollerblading, glad I was able to accompany her, glad I got my PowerBook.

It's nice out. April 15. Wonder if my taxes ever got out. Wonder if I'm gonna owe. I don't know.

Yeah, here in the car in the park. The Northeast Corridor right over there. Did I tell you I'm gonna be moving soon? Away from Iselin, down to Plainsboro, near Princeton.

So I'm working on Obliviana War. It's a digital collectible trading card game, based on Pelter, among other things. Pelter, if you don't know, is a CD-ROM I produced a few years ago which contained 256 clip textures. Well, I've converted all these, plus added 128 more I had from the 1993 time period, to come up with 384 working card designs. I need 128 more to get to the plateau of 512, which I think I'll get to soon. See, I've been using JPEG compression, which takes the average Pelter of 400K to 500K or whatever to 40K or 50K--a big savings. And the Pelter images suffer little from the lossy compression--in fact, they get a cool kind of gritty, raw edge.

I know I was ranting and raving about how much I hated Magic: The Gathering and its ilk, but y'know--while I hate the phenomenon it's caused--ie, the unbelievable losers with no life--I still think the idea of the game is pretty cool. And while you might say that Obliviana War is inspired by Magic to some extent, I have been working on decks of cards long before Magic ever saw the light of day.

Back in 1991 I created the Storm Codex deck of occult cards. And while I only made a few copies of it, it established the Obliviana card tradition.

Now, in Obliviana War I'm trying to make a really cool game. The basic idea of the game is that you build a number of "battle groups" of cards, with which you try and destroy all of your opponents cards. The cool innovation here is that I see the game taking place entirely in the digital realm--through the use of Photoshop and Photoshop-like program.

The idea is that you use half-size renditions of the cards, and lay them out in a larger file. One person would start, creating the "table" and making his first moves. Then, he'd E-mail the JPEG file to his opponent, who would then add his moves, E-mail it back, and so on.

This is the basic idea.

I'm also considering releasing cards in different sneaky way, such as on obscure BBS's, encrypted with secret keywords, etc. Otherwise, it'd be hard to have any card rarity. But who knows--maybe there doesn't have to be any card rarity. I don't know.

Anyhow, each card will be about, I estimate, 25K in size with heavy JPEG, at 165 x 285 pixels. So all 512 cards in the first wave will require at least 12MB of storage! The half-size cards will take around one-quarter that, or 3MB--but the type on the small cards will be very hard to read. I could have the text of all the cards in OsoaWeek, though...

Also, I think that by encoding the "decks" of cards as QuickTime, I can save a lot of room--with the card borders and other elements being common.

In any event, I hope to have the first few Pelters of Obliviana War out early in the Fourth Book of OsoaWeek--most likely May. Each Pelter contains 32 cards--and I hope to release these Pelters one-by-one, with the first 32-cards containing enough variety to play the game with. So maybe weekly Pelters? With 16 Pelters, that's around 4 months. May, June, July, August. Huh.

7:35 AM, on New Jersey Transit. Kind of an unproductive weekend. I did create a bunch of new Pelters, though, for use in Obliviana War.

I saw "Tank Girl" Saturday night--what an incredibly bad movie. Too bad my girlfriend Kerri and my friend Peter balked at the idea of seeing "Rob Roy".

Yeah, I don't know. What day is it? Like the 17th or something? Youch. Gonna be tough to catch up in ten days. Finish this issue and do three more in ten days? Ah, maybe.

I don't know. Maybe this weeks I can get into the swing of it and get a lot of work done. Yeah.

Whatever. I'm totally stressed-out now. Getting within a few hours of release for this issue. Let me just tell you...

GET ALL OBLIVIANA!

*OW*



[[04036NH]] Nihilistica

***SONGS OF THE WEEK***

Yes--"Starship Troopers" (from the album "The Yes Album")

Rednex--"Cotton-Eye Joe" (from the upcoming album "Sex and Violins")

*OW*



[[05036NJ]] New Jersey

BOTTOM OF THE BARREL
10 REALLY WEIRD NJ TOWN NAMES

Zarephath
Wickatunk
Egg Harbor City
Arney's Mount
Kinkora
Avon-by-the-Sea
New Sharon
Hurffville
Dragston
Jericho

*OW*



[[06036SU]] Superior

SUPERIOR 193
Load fonts. Angry and water cooler fake forest of fake trees, atrium--huge, glass webwork bubble, wage slave idiot cage. Imaginary fame. The bright boys apprehensive and hopeful sitting around the table, being filmed for TV. Exhausted train ride home--a little more each day, so to say. Then the girl on the making of video crew. You gotta be able to.

SUPERIOR 194
Thinking walhoe the of sodium chopstick the girl who lost her eyebrows and her date. Can do, slow auto junk corner, hot and super innuendo. Those cheeks, those jeans, gimme somma you Charlotte.

SUPERIOR 195
Flew at latenight rented car earlymorn, domed hotel and ralcifice office, the tin bannister sanction. Was I not a warrior, of of skill power uh-huh. Billiard winter drink, I was in you, I was the deep glass window at the airport last night. I am burning.

SUPERIOR 196
Trim. And seldom. Oh huh yeah supermarket! train! Mentioning to me, out of black sneakers too bad. Once in a lonely briar, magic opening, we were screwed. Oh yeah. Gotta runlock. Scan no managers.

*OW*



[[07036SR]] Severe Repair

SEVERE REPAIR 36: "Thiffor"

It was 2:03 in the afternoon when Quarrel Orchard came back to be again, in the back seat of a sedan. He had seen fit in the midst of defeat to be gone from the world for 4,121 years. Being returned, Reality was forced to wriggle a bit and create a background for him, as if he were there all along. This Quarrel knew and sat there barely looking out at a very sunny parking lot. It felt more like 200,000 years than 4,121.

Quarrel knew of such as cars and parking lots as these had always been a part of the world, and he remembered them from great great pasts. What is the state of the world?, he wondered. What ever became of all my defeated compatriots and vile enemies? It's all settled now, as so much time has passed, but what is the state of things?

The physics of Reality's reaction to a prime denizen's return is queer. What specifics had been manifested? Damn if Reality didn't seem to think. As Quarrel was soon to find out, he had a car (which he was in), a wallet full of identification, an apartment, a job, and even a family. His name remained Quarrel Orchard, but this identity was only 34 years old. A joke!, thought Quarrel.

But before he found this all out, Quarrel stepped out of the car, a gold-colored sedan, and walked into the mall situated near the parking lot. Inside, there was a area where several trees were planted, and in which Quarrel immediately recognized a minor tree-spirit he had known.

"Thiffor, this day a prime denizen returns." Quarrel said softly. "How have you fared these four millennia?"

"A nice time." Thiffor said. "Very relaxing. Many many trees to sleep in and hear the murmurs of the doings of man."

"Have you recollection of the fate of my compatriots in their defeat of The Affeibe Nest?"

"I have some recollection of it. Their hold was loosened on power, their cohesion ruined. They scattered, but some are still about, I guess."

"I wonder if I did the right thing, to begone."

The tree spirit didn't answer.

Quarrel looked around and finally said "How is it you came to be here?"

"I wandered here maybe 9 months ago and liked it. Did you reappear near here, Orchard?"

"Not 100 yards."

"There are fine trees, but they never taste the rain."

"So you had a feeling about this place?"

"Yes, Quarrel. And now it makes sense. The area was being prepared for your return."

"Huh." Quarrel said, nodding and looking around. The surroundings were pleasant enough. He was glad it was around tech-level Daytha--he liked that part of the civilization cycle.

After a long silence, Thiffor spoke.

"Quarrel?" the tree spirit said softly.

"Yes?"

"I would ask a favor."

"Name it."

"I would be human."

"Aww! No you don't. Why would you want that?"

"I just do."

"Wow. Time really does change things."

"I know. Back when you vanished, I would rather have evaporated than even consider becoming human. But you know--I think the seeds of the idea were there all along."

Quarrel nodded and Thiffor continued.

"Always the little sting of envy every time I saw young human lovers in their way. Always the forbidden desires to breathe and fear death and hurt and blaze so brightly."

"I see." Quarrel said. "And you think I can grant you the humanity you so greatly desire?"

Some people passed by and stared at Quarrel talking to the tree. He didn't flinch.

"I believe you have the Right to do such a thing, Quarrel. Yes."

"Well I haven't."

Quarrel stood there silent, still groggy from his return. Finally, Thiffor spoke again.

"I have information you might desire. You shall have it in return for calling me human."

Quarrel raised an eyebrow.

"Deal-making? From a tree spirit? Hah! Times indeed have changed."

"Please." Thiffor said after a pause. "I am desperate."

Quarrel let out a sigh.

"You want to die that much?"

"I want to live. I want to feel life. I want to be involved. I want to BREATHE. If I can die after 50 or 60 years of really being alive... I..."

"Enough." Quarrel said. "If I can help you, I will. In return for the information you promised, of course."

"Yes."

"The information first. You might not remember when you become human."

"I... well I know I can trust you."

Quarrel rolled his eyes.

"Okay," Thiffor continued. "Bicker Carbon is alive and well. He is currently a pop music star. The kids around here talk about him all the time. It's been this way for about three or four years."

"I couldn't have found that out myself?"

"Here me out. Of course you would have discovered that. But there's something else--something known to very few. In his band--they call it 'Carbon'--there is another member, a collaborator on all the songs."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. His name is Rovald Ancien."

"That name means nothing to me."

"No, but it is not his real name."

"What is his real name?"

"You promise to call me human?"

"Yes, you annoying spirit. Now tell me!"

"His real name is... Repsille Dant."

"WHAT?"

"Yes."

"MY Repsille Dant?"

"Yes."

"How is that possible?"

"While I'm not quite sure, I know that after The Affeibe Nest she was Carbon's prisoner. I surmise they eventually fell in love and buried the hatchet. As to why she's male now, I can only guess. To hide her identity, most likely."

"I see." Quarrel seethed. "I thought she would have waited for me. Huh. I even thought she might be the wife Reality gave me. But I guess not."

Quarrel took out his wallet and looked through the photos it contained. He glanced at the plain-looking woman who seemed likely to be his wife and shrugged.

"A few more pieces of information..." Thiffor said.

"Yeah?"

"Vow Les Couger and Frommy Juncic have an animation studio. They've become fairly popular in their work, and are rumored to be working on a music video for Carbon."

"WHAT? Are all of my old allies in league with Bicker Carbon now?"

"You'll have to figure that out for yourself. Now..."

"Oh yes--turning you into a human. Tell me, Thiffor--you sought me out, didn't you? How did you know it would be this place and time?"

"I have my source, but I am bound by the strictest confidence."

Quarrel sighed.

"Well then, I suppose we should have at it. You know you'll be naked and without an identity, do you not?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps I should get you some clothes beforehand?"

"Something generic. You never know how I'll turn out."

"Yeah. I'll go get you a robe or something. But--what will you do?"

"I'll get by. I'll adapt. It's what humans do best."

"Yeah--but still, you'll need money, references. I guess it'll fall on my shoulders to help you out."

"I'm not asking for that, only to be human."

"Yeah--but what am I gonna do--leave you in this mall in a robe, with no money and no one to turn to?"

"I could get by."

"I think you take the human mystique too literally. Yes, struggle and conflict, challenges and figuring out ways to meet them are all key to the human style--but putting yourself into great peril won't always result in a satisfying outcome--you could be killed, be exploited, whatever."

"I stand by my position, however. I am asking you for humanity. Anything else you give is up to you."

"But knowing my personality, Thiffor, you must know I wouldn't just abandon you. Whatever--let me get you that robe and let's do it."

So Quarrel left the tree and walked into a good-looking clothes store. He bought a robe, and marveled at the excellent artwork on the paper currency his wallet held. The girl at the counter looked at him in a funny way, but he shrugged it off. Could be though, he thought, that psychically sensitive individuals could see me aura in crisis, trying to get fully back on line after my absence.

He returned to the tree and could feel Thiffor's anticipation--it was almost tangible.

"You really want this, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Let me ask you something--how old were you back when I knew you?"

"A few hundred years--I--I don't know."

"Interesting. All you nature spirits seemed so happy to be as you were. But maybe, after living as once for a good few millennia, you change."

"I know I did, Quarrel."

"Yeah."

He stood, staring at the tree and the spirit inside. Was this the right thing to do? Probably not, he thought. But Thiffor was so anxious, so wanting, that he didn't have the heart to deny the request.

"Okay." Quarrel said. "Now remember, I never said I knew exactly how to do this."

"I understand."

"And if it works, it will be an inevitable death sentence for you, sooner or later."

"I accept that whole-heartedly, Quarrel."

"Alright then, let's have at it."

With this, Quarrel closed his eyes and cocked his head to one side. He felt for his Right and grasped it. It felt good, to feel it so strong so soon after reappearing.

He reached out with his Right and engulfed the form of Thiffor.

"I grant Thiffor humanity." he said. "Let this spirit become human, right now."

For a second it felt to Quarrel that it wasn't working, but then he felt a huge surge of energy pulsing from him to the spirit. He felt control over it for a few more seconds, but then it overtook him, and he became nothing more than a conduit. He felt the bright force rushing into Thiffor, and he wondered if the spectacle was visible to normal people if they happened to be looking their way. Probably, he thought.

He opened his eyes and saw a wild firestorm swirling around the tree. He glanced over at some shoppers, and he was startled to discover that the people were staring at the pyrotechnic display.

Wow, he thought. Pretty powerful stuff.

Looking back to Thiffor, he saw a new form developing--a human one. In a strobe craziness, he saw Thiffor transforming all the way to human. Female, from the looks of it. He'd been wondering how she'd turn out.

But now, the procedure was finished almost as soon as it began, and Thiffor began to fall forward from her former home in the trunk of the tree. Quarrel caught her and cradled her new unconscious form in his arms.

The special effects slowly receded, flashing and booming occasionally, as he laid the supine form of Thiffor down onto the outstretched robe.

He looked her over. Not bad. She didn't do that bad at all. Her new body was small and trim--and quite attractive. He imagined that standing, she might hit five feet, but maybe not. Long locks of wavy light brown hair fell from her head, partially covering her sweet new face. Her breasts were small and well-formed, and there was a slight tuft of hair on her lower regions.

Judging her age would have been difficult, Quarrel mused, seeking to block from view the helpless naked body with his own. She could have been in her twenties, but on the other hand, she could have been a lot younger.

She began to stir, and Quarrel grasped her hand. Her skin seemed radiant, blooming. Such a beautiful sight, a newly humanized spirit.

"I... I... is it done?" Thiffor asked in a soft, girlish voice, much different than the one she had but minutes earlier.

"You made out well." Quarrel said, looking into her groggy eyes and smiling. "Hah! Nine months. You said you got here nine months ago. Very appropriate."

"Yeah." Thiffor said, laughing a little. "It wasn't intentional, but I see the irony. Wow. This feels even better than I had imagined."

She looked down at herself and ran her free hand over chest, abdomen, and legs, marveling in the wave of new sensations it gave her.

"Thank you." she said. "You have given me a gift greater than any I thought possible."

"I've given an immortal the gift of death. And I'm still not sure I did the right thing."

"You've given me LIFE. What good is it to be immortal when you exist in a half-conscious daze all the time, yearning to be involved in the affairs of the humans you constantly idolize. I did that for over four-thousand years. And I couldn't take it anymore!"

"Okay... okay. It matters little, for there's no turning back now. Come on, get up and slip into the robe. You need a new wardrobe and luckily we're in a mall."

Thiffor laughed and made her first attempt to stand. She wobbled a bit and used the wall for support, but otherwise she did pretty good. Quarrel felt good to be watching over such a precious little flower. Sensitivity and sentiment were ever his downfall. That is, whenever he wasn't busy being a bastard.

He helped Thiffor on with the robe, and regarded her.

"Remarkable." he said. "You make a fine humans."

"Thanks."

"Now let's get you dressed."

"I know just the store!"

"You do?"

"I've been living here for nine months--I'd better have some familiarity with the place!"

"Fair."

"So come on. The store is called 'Enemy'--it's the coolest clothes store around!"

Thiffor stumbled forward, but Quarrel catched her.

"Whoah!" he said. "Take it easy on that new body of yours. You're gonna have it for quite a while."

"Yeah." Thiffor agreed, taking hold of Quarrel's arm. "Maybe I'll just lean on you."

"Fine."

It took them a little while to cross the mall and get to Enemy. They walked inside, and Thiffor broke free from Quarrel and rushed up to a glass counter, using it to help her keep her balance. She looked into the display and a look of pure joy crossed her face as Quarrel approached.

"You have no idea what this means to me!" she said, turning to face the warrior. "I've tried to look around in here so many times, but because there's no vegetation, it was all hazy to me. But now--wow! Everything is so sharp and clear and focused and colorful!"

Just then, a clerk came up to them behind the counter. She was a heavy girl with a lot of make-up and jewelry on.

"May I help you?"

"Oh yes!" Thiffor said with great enthusiasm. "I need clothes, and jewelry, and accessories, and all sorts of stuff!"

The clerk looked at Quarrel, but he just smiled and shrugged.

"Where do you want to begin?" the clerk asked.

"Oh, I don't know! There's just so much to choose from!"

The clerk wore a puzzled expression, and said, "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing in a robe with no clothes here at the mall!"

"Oh..." Thiffor said, chuckling. "It's so embarrassing."

"Hey no problem." the clerk said. "None of my business."

"I may as well tell you." Thiffor said, and the clerk's eyes lit up. "I'm pledging a sorority, and one of the hazings I wasn't at all expecting was being left naked and blindfolded in the parking lot of this mall."

"Holy crap!"

"Yeah, and if it wasn't for my friend Quarrel here being so nice to me, I'd be in real trouble!"

"I felt so bad for her I offered to buy her a whole new wardrobe." Quarrel said, wondering if it sounded convincing.

"Huh." the clerk said. "So what college is this?"

"Crelver."

"Oh yeah? I go there part time! What sorority?"

"Lanajay." Thiffor said without a pause, still smiling.

"Wow. I used to know a few girls from there. You know Shavaughn Hooper?"

"Yeah--I think she was one of the girls who drove me here. Couldn't tell though, being blindfolded and all."

"Wow." the clerk said again.

Quarrel was impressed at Thiffor's knowledge of the local surroundings, and her flawless lying.

The next couple of hours were spent acquiring a wardrobe for Thiffor. First, Quarrel suggested he buy her something to wear right away, so she wouldn't be so conspicuous. She chose a tan miniskirt, black stockings, and a white button-down shirt. With bra, panties, and socks, she was almost fully dressed. She decided to deal with the shoes later on.

When all was said and done, Thiffor had a pile of bags and boxes which even the powerful Quarrel couldn't carry all at once. He had spent a small fortune on her, and even slipped the clerk a nice tip for being so helpful.

They carried the stuff out to his car in several trips. Finally, Quarrel sat in the driver's seat and Thiffor in the passenger seat.

"So what do you want to do?" Quarrel asked. It almost seemed like the two were lovers, but such a thing was far from his mind. Though sexless, Quarrel had always thought of Thiffor as male for some reason. So this was weird for him.

"It's up to you." Thiffor said, looking up at him with bright, innocent eyes. Too innocent, he thought, for a being so ancient.

"Then I say you come home with me and live with my family."

"There's a family?"

"Yeah. Reality was forced to make space for me when I returned. Actuality was jostled a bit to come up with an identity for me, see? And part of that identity is a home and a family."

"Yeah I'm somewhat familiar with the phenomenon, but I never quite understood the people part. I mean--where did they come from?"

"It's kind of complicated and I don't understand it entirely, but to them, they'll remember me being there for as long as I should have known them. To them it will be totally real. And yes, they are real people."

"Wow."

"Yeah. So you may as well come home with me, okay? A place to stay, folks to take care of you."

"Won't they find it kind of strange you bringing home some young woman out of the blue? How will your wife feel?"

"I'll tell them you're a relative--a long lost one. Maybe something like... like the niece I didn't know I had from the brother I didn't know I had. Something corny like that."

Thiffor looked out the window as Quarrel started the car.

"She won't believe it." Thiffor said.

"What?"

"The story. It's just such a lie. She'll think I'm your lover and you're trying to get her to accept having me under the same roof."

"You know what, Thiffor? I couldn't care less what she, or any of them think. I don't care. I never met these people. You, I've know for a long time--maybe too long. So you take priority."

"Wow. Thanks."

"We'll deal with it."

"Okay."

"Okay." Quarrel said, backing out of the parking space and heading for the main road.

"So where's your house?"

"I have no idea. That's why I got a map while you were shopping. Here, you're the navigator."

Thiffor took the map and opened it up.

"Wow. Pretty complicated."

"Yeah well--you're looking for 800 Stavis Court, in Bomberri Hills. I saw Bomberri Hills on the map, but not the street. I'm gonna head north of Route 8, but after that, I don't know."

"Hmm..."

"We'll get there. One way or another. We'll get there, Thiffor."

She looked up at Quarrel.

"I believe you." she said reassuringly.

* * *

I waited in the motel office for something to happen. I could barely see a guy in a back room, talking on the phone and watching TV. I made a few attempts to get his attention politely, as in clearing my throat and rustling some brochures. Finally, I just yelled "Hello?"

The guy looked at me with an annoyed glance and turned back to his TV and continued his conversation. Then I got mad. Real mad. Too mad.

I opened the gate, went behind the counter, and then slammed open the partially-opened door to the back room. I looked at the guy, saw his motel name tag and became furious. I raised my fist, and summoning some superstrength, slammed it into the TV set, backhand.

A shower of sparks came out of the thing as it sputtered and died. Then I grabbed phone out of his hand and crumbled it into tiny pieces in my superstrong hands.

"You have a customer!" I boomed from superstrong vocal chords, reducing the little creep to a quivering fetal mass.

I took a wad of bills out of my pocket and tossed about $1200 on the couch, next to the guy.

"That should take care of the damage. And then some." I said in a more human tone. "Now check me in."

I stepped out of the room, behind the counter, then back to the lobby area.

Shaking, the guy followed me and stood at his post.

"What was the problem?" I asked him.

He tried to respond, but all that out was a sort of "ughgh" grunt.

I grabbed the guy by his collar and got in his face.

"It's simple." I said. "You do your job and check me in. Then you sit tight, fantasize on how you're gonna spend that money I gave ya, and tomorrow morning I'm gone, out of your life forever. Do something stupid though--like call the authorities or whatever--and you won't live long enough to spend one green cent of that money. You got me?"

The guy quickly nodded. I felt bad to be acting like this--it really wasn't me. The stresses of time travel, I supposed.

So the guy, shivering in fear, checked me in and gave me the key to my room. Then, in a pathetic and miserable manner, he said, "There won't be any trouble. And I... I'm sorry. The guy after me never came in--so I figured... uh..."

"Don't worry about it." I said. "You just caught me at a really bad time."

The guy nodded and I was back out into the chilly night. I found the room, unlocked the door, and grasped the handle. Just as I did this, a weird feeling swept through me. I knew something was wrong, but it wasn't any sort of psychic or other phenomenon I was familiar with. But I was feeling pretty omnipotent right then, so I just opened the door, found a light switch, threw it open, and strode into the room.

For a bare instant, I didn't see anything wrong. Then--a big comfy chair facing the window--something--something on the armrest--plaid cloth--hay--crazy. I shuffled to my right, behind one of the beds, trying to get a better look without getting any closer.

I saw some more of what looked like and arm, and was puzzled for about a half-second--until a horrifying face turned toward me and stared. It was familiar to me--I'd seen it in the Overwhelm intelligence file on one of the rival Aconck groups, The Unreal Sixty-Four. This guy--this scarecrow--was one of their operatives. They all wore some kind of weird costume, and this guy was a hay-stuffed evil scarecrow sort of a guy.

I forgot his name, but I knew he was a dangerous mother. So I mentally summoned a surge of superstrength and stood ready.

"Doesn't Thewsike give you an expense account? Isn't it embarrassing to have to sleep another people's motel rooms?" I said, realizing it wasn't the best wise-ass banter--but it was passable.

"I... don't work with Polk Thewsike any more." the scarecrow said in a normal-sounding voice.

"So why are you still wearing that stupid costume?"

"It's not like that."

"What is it like?"
The scarecrow stood up and I got into my best battle stance. He held up his hand, though, and spoke.

"I mean you no harm. I just want your help."

"How the hell did you get here?"

"This... panoply... has some amazing abilities. I could see you and your friend from a long ways off. You stood out like a blazing meteor in the vastness of Aconck. I see that your friend isn't an Overwhelm Primate though. And there's something else--a beast?"

"Look buddy..."

"My name is Carroll Mammock. Overwhelm probably has a sizable file on me."

"Yeah well, I don't know about that. But why--why should I believe what you're saying?"

"I don't know. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe once I explain my situation to you, it won't be necessary to trust me."

I thought about that.

"Okay." I said. "I'll listen--but you have to give me your word that you're no longer connected to Thewsike and that you mean me no harm."

"Easy to do. I swear by my name that I am no longer associated with The Unreal Sixty-Four in any way, shape or form. I also swear that I mean you absolutely no harm."

"Okay."

"But for clarity's sake, I want to make it clear that two of my current allies are in the same jam as me--but are similarly disconnected from U-64. They are Anderson Prickwood and Nesmith Strake."

"Uh-huh. What costumes are they?"

"Uh... skeleton and phantom, respectively."

"Okay." I said. "Let's just sit down calmly and you tell me what you need to tell me."

"That is agreeable." the scarecrow said, looking behind him at the chair. "Let me just turn this chair around."

"Cool."

He swung the heavy chair around with consummate ease--definitely superstrong, he. I walked around the bed and sat on it, facing him.

Carroll stared at me with his frightening burlap face of a visage. I sensed great energy and presence from him. I made a mental note to keep on my toes--I had the sense he might be dangerous, regardless of what he swore to.

"To start off, Prince Ferrajalt, this is not a costume. That's the idea we wanted to put into everyone's head, but it's not true. So I'm about to give you a valuable piece of intelligence."

He laughed briefly then--an odd, wheezing noise. Then he continued.

"You see, this is what we call a 'panoply'. It's a puppet body animated with Realistic Forces. The idea is that the operative's body remains at a central location, and he operates the panoply remotely. Thewsike's major discovery was that of dimension doors--but unfortunately, they couldn't get much bigger than a few centimeters across. But to make a long story short, he was able to use this invention to build the panoply system. Thus, his sixty-four Perfect Unreal Agents could stay safe in his central base while carrying out all manner of missions. This is what I did."

"Did?" I asked.

"Yes. A month or so ago something happened. Reality fell apart, but only for a few seconds. Right afterward, it seemed like everything was okay, but things were subtly changed. Clocks were all screwed up. The phase of the moon was wrong. Colors of things were inexplicably different, people who should have been dead weren't anymore. And... my body was lost."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, my human body became gone. It no longer exists."

"So where are you operating the scarecrow from?"

"I AM the scarecrow now."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I'm not really thrilled about it."

"Sorry."

"Well, that's the way things went. But this is not specifically what I came to you for--though if you have any idea on how I might regain myself, I'd be glad to hear them."

I waved my arms in a befuddled look.

"No matter." he said. "Let me get onto the matter at hand. As you may know, I have a sister, Coltish, who is part of Overwhelm Associates."

"I've--heard of her. Never met her, though."

"I see. Now as I said, I have greatly enhanced senses in this panoply--I can see things across the enormity of Aconck. And I can--even now--see my sister. But she's a long way off. I have no idea what sort of a place she's in."

"I don't either."

"But you can still help me, Prince. For I see an energy signature all over you--the signature of Edkay Delvibane--also one of your comrades."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. How is it you bear this signature?"

"Um... Well I guess I may as well tell you. I am the new owner of the Greatcoat."

"Aha!"

"What?"

"That's what I suspected."

"So?"

"So, that means you can help me."

"How?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now. What is the last thing you heard about my sister?"

"I--okay. I remember hearing a rumor that she was involved in some super secret mission back at Greatwall."

"Yes?"

"Yeah. But I mean, it was only a rumor."

"Did the rumor include anything about the nature of the mission?"

"Well," I said, wrinkling my nose as I considered how much to tell him, "it was pretty weird."

"You're in a motel room talking to a scarecrow. That's weird too."

I laughed a little.

"Yeah. Well, I heard it from a real strange guy in our organization, but well--here it is. I heard they were gonna kill God and the Devil or something."

"WHAT?"

"Yeah. See, I told you it was weird."

"Kill God? And the Devil?"

"That's what I heard. Not that I believe it though."

"Hmm..." the scarecrow said with what seemed to be a sigh. "This adds an interesting spice to the mix."

"Yeah?"

He nodded and sat silent.

"So." I said. "Does that help you?"

"Yes." he said. "And now--I have another question for you. You've been greatly cooperative so far and I appreciate it. If it seems like I'm pushing too hard, I apologize. But somewhere in these questions I may have a great reward to offer you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. So my question is... do you have time travel?"

I furrowed my brow.

"Why?" I asked.

"I thought I may have seen it. And if you do--I have a very lucrative deal to offer you."

"Uh-huh?"

"Yes--I think you'd be quite happy with the whole thing. First though--I need to know."

I regarded the fellow. Something told me to trust him, but something else told me to fear him. So much power...

But I decided to gamble.

"Yeah, we have it."

The expressionless scarecrow face stared at me for a few moments, and I tried to fathom what he might be thinking about.

"Good." he finally said.

"Is it?"

"It is. Now the thing I referred to before exists about 25 years ago in Peeferkihint City. Can you get there with your method of time travel?"

"I don't think that would be a problem. Just what are we talking about here, though?"

"Well Ferrajalt, it's not an easy thing to describe. I guess it's safe to say that it's a building with some remarkable attributes."

"Like?"

"Like the means to go just about anywhere."

"Can't we already do that with bridging?"

"Bridging is pitifully limited." Carroll said. "This building I refer to--it can take you anywhere."

"Okay..." I said slowly. "So what we're talking about is what--going back and doing what? Getting the building somehow?"

"Yes."

"How?"

He looked at me in silence again, making me more and more apprehensive.

Finally, he spoke.

"There is a man named Stone Beverly, who is, at some point in the past, dying alone in his home."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He holds the deed to the building."

"So how do we get it from him?"

"He was very lonely toward the end. I'm sure that if someone provided him companionship in those last months, he'd give that person the deed and the box."

"Box?"

"Yes, the box. Uh, let me know how you feel about all this so far, and I'll get into details about the box."

"Well I don't know. I mean, the idea of being able to go anywhere instantly appeals to me, and would certainly help me my personal quests. Who wouldn't be bolstered by such power?"

Carroll nodded.

"But you have to understand, my companion is the one in direct control of the time travel method."

"What was her name?"

"You're asking for a lot, Mammock! I just hope you're not playing me the fool. Who knows what I might do."

"I understand your concern, Ferrajalt, but if you've read my file you should know that I'm not the sort to swear on my name falsely."

I sighed.

"Her name is Lunatether."

"Nice name."

"I like it."

After another bit of silence, Carroll spoke again.

"So now, the box. It contains, I believe, 890 multicolored keys. These correspond to 891 doors in the building. The building is called Deep Violt C, by the way."

"Why the extra door?"

"That's something I'd like to find out."

"Uh-huh. So where is this building now?"

"It was destroyed in a terrorist attack a few weeks after Stone Beverly died."

"What sort?"

"False air traffic control transmissions caused an enormous Yeeber AX-76 to crash into it."

"Jeez."

"We'll have to prevent that from happening, too."

"Shouldn't be too hard."

"Not hard, but involved."

"Hmm. So what about these keys and doors? They all lead somewhere?"

"As I understand it, if you have a key and a virgin door, you can unlock it to lead anywhere you might desire. Once opened, however, the door will always lead to the same place."

"How do you know all this?"

"It's a long, drawn-out, tedious story. I don't feel like reconstructing it right now."

"Fine."

"Oh! I sense your friend--Lunatether--on her way back."

"Good."

"How do you think she'll react?"

"Probably not too bad."

He nodded.

"But let me get this straight--we provide this Stone guy with companionship for a few months and we get a shiny new interdimensional building?"

"In a nutshell."

"So what sort of companionship does this guy need? Sexual? Emotional? What?"

"I imagine all of the above. Thing is, though, he's gay--so it'll have to be another man."

"Don't look at me!"

"I wasn't. I'm merely giving you the facts."

"So what are we supposed to do? Just... just get some guy to go sleep with this other guy?"

"Something along those lines."

"And then what--when he gives the stuff to this loverboy--we'll just take it from him?"

"I was hoping you might know somebody to play the role. But if you don't, we could just hire a local denizen--offer him so much money he couldn't refuse."

"I don't think I'D do it for any amount of money."

"Well you're rich--superrich--royalty. You don't count."

"Yeah, go on. Everyone loves prince-bashing."

"Don't take it like that."

"Yeah, yeah."

He laughed a little.

"So do you see where I'm going with this? With access to Deep Violt C, I should be able to find Coltish--as well as seek out a solution to my own unique problem."

"Yeah, I see. But tell me--how did this gay guy get the deed to an interdimensional building? I mean, what's going on there?"

"Ferrajalt, even with my heavy senses, I couldn't make any sense of the insanely complex situations surrounding Stone Beverly."

"I see. But this building--what's the deal with it? Who built it? If it's C, was there an A and a B Deep Violt, or whatever it's called?"

"I assume."

"And you were back in time to see all this?"

"Not really."

"So how then?"

"There are places where many things become apparent."

"Obviously this isn't one of them." I said, and Carroll laughed.

"She's coming." he said, still laughing.

I heard a knock on the door and got up. I looked through the peephole and saw the beautiful face of Lunatether--or was it the face of Hilltop Jone Rallity? Whatever, I opened the door a crack and looked at her.

"We have a visitor." I said calmly. "He's kind of scary-looking and generally menacing, but I have the situation under control. So don't be surprised."

I opened the door and Lunatether arched her neck to peer in before entering. She caught sight of Carroll and looked puzzled.

"Why is there a scarecrow here?"

"He's formerly of the Unreal Sixty-Four."

"Ah--Carroll Mammock?" she said.

"That's me." Carroll said.

"Isn't he an enemy?" she asked, looking at me.

"He certainly WAS at some point." I replied. "But he claims to no longer be associated with U-64. He's asked for our help, and made a very intriguing offer."

"I see." she said, examining the scarecrow. It was strange--the way she was looking him over sort of reminded me of a mechanical scan--she still had a strong machine element to her personality. Huh. I wondered how she would feel if she heard that, heard that even though she wears a human body she's still at least part machine.

"I'll explain it all to you if you wish." Carroll said.

"Do." she replied, sitting down in the chair across from the scarecrow. "Knowing that any aggressive action will mean your death."

"That is not an eventuality we need be concerned with." Carroll said, and I wondered if it referred to him attacking us or him dying. No matter.

So he described the whole situation to Lunatether.

"Okay..." she said once she had it all. "So if we decide to do this, we'll have to--what--go back and set up camp in Peeferkihint while we execute the plan?"

"Yes." he said. "Since it will take a month or two, we should set something up in the city. I can see... you have a large quantity of gold in your vehicle outside. I imagine it should be sufficient to fund this adventure."

"Yeah, yeah." she said. "But I'm still wary of just hiring some young hustler to provide Beverly companionship. Won't he get suspicious--decide to keep the deed and keys for himself?"

"If he does," the scarecrow said, "he can run, but he can't hide. From me."

"Huh." she said, then turning to me. "What about Walker Fantive and getting back to Overwhelm?"

"I don't know." I said. "I've been thinking about it--we needed Overwhelm to get us back into the swing of things. If Carroll's plan really works, then we don't need 'em."

"W... Walker Fantive?" Carroll said, looking distracted. "Primate?"

"Yeah." I said.

"I--I think I see him approaching."

"What?!" I exclaimed.

"He coming be air--some sort of cloaked personal flying machine." the scarecrow said.

"Why?" Lunatether asked.

"I don't know." I said. "But his probability antennas probably picked up that we weren't gonna make it to the base, so he's coming out to see why."

"What should we do?" she asked.

"Hold on--" I said. "How far is he?"

"I--it's hard to say. He might get here as soon as five minutes. Could be longer, though."

"I say we exit the situation." I said. "Carroll--are you ready to travel, no problem?"

He nodded his head.

"And your friends--Anderson and whoever--are they nearby?"

"Uh--no." he said hesitantly.

"So you can come 25 years ago with us?"

"Uh--yes." he said. "That should be no problem."

"What do you say?" I asked Lunatether.

"She's tired." she said. "No way she can do 25 years tonight. I wouldn't do that to her. But maybe a couple of years--we can stay at this same motel, and then go the rest of the way tomorrow?"

I looked at Carroll, who nodded slightly.

"Okay." I said. "Too bad we're gonna lose the van."

Carroll's head cocked slightly in curiosity.

"You'll find out." I said. "Come on."

So we all got up and went out to the van. Lunatether opened the back doors to reveal the dozing tock hound. The beast's nostrils flared and it opened its eyes. I was amazed at the look of love it gave Lunatether, and felt a pang of guilt about my own tock hound--the one I abandoned in the far past.

"The beast is the means of transport?" Carroll asked.

"That's about the size of it." I said.

"Impressive." he replied.

"So look guys," Lunatether said. "How far do we have to go?"

"Can we go six or seven? I know there wasn't an Overwhelm base back then."

She frowned and started rubbing Bandelion's head.

"Whattaya say, girl?"

The tock hound either purred or growled softly--couldn't tell which.

"I think she can do it." Lunatether said gently, more to Bandelion than to us.

"Alright." I said. "But let me leave a note for Walker--I mean, he's not the enemy after all."

"Go ahead." Lunatether said, then turned to face Bandelion. "Come on girl. One more trip tonight."

As the beast jumped out of the van and began to stretch, I ran into the motel room and found a pen and a pad of paper. On a dresser, I quickly scrawled "Walker--sorry but we took off. Maybe you'll see us sooner than you think though. Nothing against Overwhelm, just personal business. Best regards, Ferrajalt."

I ripped the page off the pad and ran back to the van. Lunatether was already on the tock hound, and Carroll was in the process of jumping on.

"Gonna be a tight squeeze!" I said as I placed the note on the driver's seat of the van.

The scarecrow leapt onto Bandelion with supernatural ease. I really wondered where I was gonna sit.

But we worked things out--I sat right behind Lunatether and Carroll grabbed onto me with those flimsy-seeming arms of his. Kinda scary. But we were all secure and we took off. The moment before everything began spinning around, I saw Walker Fantive and the motel employee staring at us from the lobby.

I guess Lunatether saw Walker also, as she urged Bandelion to make a jump. She did, and it was instantly afternoon--probably earlier that day.

So there I was--riding on a huge dog, travelling 25 years back in time with a scarecrow and a clone with a computer's mind. A clone who I think I loved. Such freedom, such danger, such abandon--I let my spirit go and reveled in the craziness around me.

I finally felt totally good about my devastatingly offbeat life.

*OW*



[[08036CN]] Contents of OsoaWeek036, March 30, 1995

BEGIN
01 036 CV--Cover
02 036 HR--Hemisinister Review
03 036 LA--Lord of Obliviana
04 036 NH--Nihilistica
05 036 NJ--New Jersey
06 036 SU--Superior
07 036 SR--Severe Repair
08 036 CN--Contents
END

*OW*



[[END036OW]]



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