|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- BILLION'S DRIFTING--CUP 11--"BUTTONS" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  Billion's Drifting  ||  -------> (Cup SRbd011, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = "Wait a minute." Daptin said. "I think this might make some sort of sense. Take of your shirt, Prince. Let's see if we have something." Ferrajalt nodding his head in frustration. "Fine, fine." he said, as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, leaving him standing there in an undershirt. Agatha took the shirt and began examining it. With one of her claws she ripped one of the buttons off with some difficulty and began to scrutinize it. "Here, look." she said, moving close to Ferrajalt, the button held close to her face. "Look at this." Ferrajalt looked at the button, and a look of amazement came to his face. "No fucking way!" he said, smiling. "It's a matter handler! A fucking matter handler!" "What?" Daptin said, rushing over to examine the button. "It looks--there a little grill on the back--just like the matter handlers. It all makes sense! An emergency system, built into... even the clothing that the Warhomes have! Haha! With these buttons, we can build Warhomes!" Soon, Ferrajalt and Daptin discovered a tiny pin concealed in the side of the buttons, and with this pin, they could probe under the tiny grilled opening on the back of the buttons and press a tiny button there in the recess. As soon as they did this, the button jumped out of Daptin's hand and skittled off, as if it were on a shaky surface, leaving a scar in the ground behind it, as it ate up matter. "God damn!" Ferrajalt exclaimed. "It's gonna work!" "But then what?" I said. "We'll have food, water, and shelter, but we still have a million miles to travel!" "I don't know." Daptin said. "Think about it--two, three hundred miles per hour, top speed?" Ferrajalt nodded. "So--we can set it on autopilot--go day and night." Daptin said. "Say, 250 miles per hour. Okay? So that's--let's estimate 25 hours per day--that's--about 6000 miles per day. Say 5000. Okay. So how many days is that to make a million miles? Uh..." "About 200." Agatha said. "That's right!" Daptin said. "Which is about... uh..." "Six or seven months." Ferrajalt said, nodding. "That's not so bad!" "But will we make it in time to stop Sleap?" said Daptin. "There's no other way." Agatha said. "Maybe we can radio ahead?" I asked. "Warn someone?" "No." Agatha said. "No one can get to Daptin's Land except Daptin himself. And then, only when I get him to the right spot." "Oh." I said. "Well, do they have any faster transports that they might send, to intercept us?" "Not that much faster." she said. "Besides, the chance of getting a message to span across this wasteland is remote. I know that Winter Stadium had a hard time with telecommunication on their major explorations." "Oh well, just a thought." I said. Ferrajalt regarded the rest of the buttons, which were in his hand. There were seven in all. "So--what should we do--just make one, or like, one for each of us?" "Let's make four." Daptin said. "I for one need the privacy to mull over my plans to recover my Land. Not to be antisocial, but a single Warhome is rather close quarters." "No argument here." Ferrajalt said. "We can visit each other with the planes." Daptin said, and we all nodded. About six hours later, we set off, each of us in our own Warhome. It took a little while to get them all programmed to travel the road at top speed and follow each other at a set distance. But we got them going. Agatha was in the lead, me second, Ferrajalt third, and Daptin was the caboose of our otherworldly "train". "Well, it looks like we're on our way!" Ferrajalt said over the comm. "Yeah." Agatha said. "These things aren't too hard to drive. I shouldn't have been so intimidated." "Well," Daptin said, "just cuz you never heard of such a thing as a driver's license is no reason you can't be a good driver." We all laughed. "Well folks," Ferrajalt said, "looks like we're cruising at close to 310 M.P.H. And my calculations here... uh... it looks like we'll cover a million miles--barring any mishaps or obstructions, in something like 134 days. Maybe four-and-a-half months." "Not too bad." I said. "As long as the universe is still there when we hit civilization." "Yeah." Ferrajalt said, with a bittersweet chuckle. "Well people, we have a lot of time on our hands, and I suggest an excellent book from the library you might like to read--'The Aleche Degrasion'." And we sped on through the wasteland, one after another, as night fell around us. -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----