|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- WEAVER--CUP 4--"MATTER THING" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  Weaver  ||  -------> (Cup SRwv004, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = I have to see something. I pick up a big, jagged rock and lift it over my head, as I place my other hand on the ground. In a swift motion, I bring the rock down and bash the hell out of my hand. A surge of emergency superstrength courses through me, and the rock feels like it's made of Styrofoam as it bounces harmlessly off of my hand. So I do have some superstrength left. The girls are far down the shore from the crater I made with my biplane. I have a sudden urge to dig into the wreckage--it's the only place that anything interesting could be hidden. And the book is there too. I should really start reading it soon--but on the other hand, it may be the only book I'll ever read for the rest of my life. So I jogged down the rocks toward the crater. I got away from the ugly scene of Treyess in the tight, monstrous grip of Booze. I ran, feeling light and powerful. And soon I got to the crater. A little bit of biplane wreckage was above the ground--the rest was buried in a dense claylike substance. If I summoned superstrength, the clay would feel like whipped cream to me, easy to dig into. I looked around--no one there, of course. The girls were safely occupied with each other, far away. "Super!" I yelled, and I felt the signature surge of power and lightness that meant I was in full superstrength mode. Quickly, I attacked the clay around the biplane, careful not to annihilate the plane itself. Clay was flying all over the place as I slowly revealed the twisted mess of what was left of the aircraft. I grabbed big parts of the plane and tossed them to the edge of the crater. I figured I could have all the wreckage arranged thusly before too long, but when I dug a little further, I grabbed a piece of wreckage which felt--different. This bit of wreckage didn't have that light, flimsy feeling the other parts did--it felt solid, heavy. I swept away the sharp pieces of metal wrapped around the thing, and then looked at it. Huh. Interesting. It looked something like a big radio, with the familiar black-and-white police markings the Warhome had had, along with the gold police logo. It had a handle on ach side, and a big circular opening surrounded by grating, which looked a little like a speaker. Above the circle was an array of little meters, each with a little needle on an arc display. It was nearly identical to the device on the central shaft of the Warhome--only smaller. Could it have been the plane's power source? I turned the thing over a few times as I felt the superstrength wash away from me. Yes--if I was looking for anything, this was it. I scrambled back to the edge of the crater and put the thing down. If this device powered the plane with direct matter-to-energy conversion... I picked up a small piece of twisted metal and lowered it into the device's hole. As soon as the metal went inside, I heard a series of clicks. I kept lowering the metal, and I began to hear a deep hum. Before long, the metal was farther down into the device than seemed possible. As my hand neared the opening, I dropped the metal, and it disappeared into the opening. I glanced at the various displays, and I saw that a few were lit up, their needles moving up a little. The matter in that piece of metal? I grabbed a handful of rocks and dropped them into the hole. They disappeared, and yet more of the displays lit up and moved. I noticed that one of the displays was lit up in blue, rather than white. This one had a little picture of a Warhome above it. Huh. I fed some sand, a few tree branches, and a few more rocks into the thing. They all disappeared into that black opening. Some of the needles moved a perceptible distance, but the panel with the Warhome on it didn't react perceivably--or maybe it did, but just barely. So I had a new pastime--feeding matter into my--what should I call it? A "matter-to-energy thing"? Or maybe just a "matter thing". Whatever. In any case, I had to start doing something. The prancing of Treyess and Booze was really starting to get on my nerves. I mean, come on! Light, airy fun isn't exactly in synch with the state of being stranded on an island. -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----