AN: This is an insertion about 3 authors. I tend to be the dark one. Roachguy's account of the following events is much more light-hearted and humorous. Enjoy.
This doesn't involve Tokyo 2040. I enjoyed that series; however, I feel it doesn't fit with the rest of the canon. It's like a retelling. But Parasite Dolls and AD Police are fair game.
Disclaimer: I don't own some of the characters I'm going to use. (Is it possible to own myself?) I doubt anyone can finally make up their mind who will own Bubblegum Crisis. If you'd like a more thorough legal statement, and you own any characters used here, let me know. (Note: Currently AIC owns BBC, as far as I know.)
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Boomer
Prologue: Always Remember to Say Niktu
by Maxwell Sinclair
Darkness, that was my first thought. Tentatively, I licked my lips. My throat was so dry it burned. The air tasted metallic and stale like drinking creek water out of a steel cup. It was dry but the lack of air movement left me feeling a bit sticky and all too human.
I was lying down and the ground was hard and cold. Tentatively, I stretched my arms and sat up. That's a good sign. Standing up I stretched my muscles out. No aches or pains but my joints felt a little stiff, like they had never been used before. I wonder, how long have I been here?
I can breathe, but the staleness of the air and the burning in my throat indicates the oxygen may be limited. I better find a way out quick. Okay, where am I? How did I get here? Let me think. I remember kidnapping my friends Roach and Mike and flying us all to Tokyo. Taking a random vacation seemed like a great idea at the time. There was an earthquake…and then….
Oh, shit. I'm buried alive.
Okay, keep it together Max. Take a deep breath. Oops, no don't take any deep breaths, gotta conserve the air. I am still breathing, this is good. I must have not been buried long, hopefully. It was also possible that there was a way out and I had been down here for a while.
If I think about this logically, I don't feel any bumps on my head. I couldn't have been here very long, or rescue workers would have gotten to me already. Unless they gave up on finding me, I felt a shudder course up my spine. That's not a good thought. Well, I'm not going to get anywhere standing here wasting my air.
I stumbled around almost tripping over rocks on the ground till I finally found a wall; unfortunately, I found the wall with my face.
"Ouch!"
"… ouch, ouch, ouch, ou…" My voice echoed around me for a while before drifting away.
Nifty. "ECHO!"
"…echo, echo, echo, echooo…"
After a few minutes, I figured I had spent enough time playing around with echoes. Time to move on. I put my hand on the wall and started following it. Hopefully, it wouldn't lead to a deep chasm.
...Three hours later...
"…goro goro," my stomach grumbled irritably.
Grrr, isn't there at least anything to eat down here. Right now, I'd be happy with a bat. I wonder how I could cook it though. I don't relish the thought of scraping rocks together over my shirt. There better be a way out of here soon.
...Three more hours...
Black, black, and more black. Such amazing scenery down here. They should offer tours.
... Two days later...
I'm going to die in this stupid fucking cave. I'm still breathing, so there must be a way for air to get in, but I can't really tell from where. I tried spitting on my finger and it didn't do much good. I can't see anything. But my finger smells now.
Hooray.
... 1 more day...
Throat dry.
Stomach empty.
Cave suck.
I think I feel a breeze, but I doubt my sanity.
... 1 hour later...
LIGHT! I can see light. When you've been in darkness as long as I have even the smallest pinprick is brighter than the noonday sun. I felt like I had lain backwards into a warm bath. This immense hope and joy spread through my spine. Maybe, I wouldn't die alone in the dark.
I'm going to have to start digging.
...2 hours later...
After digging and digging, I broke through and pulled myself out onto a broken street. I looked down at my hands amazed. I had spent hours digging through the dirt and there was no damage to my fingers or even my fingernails.
Looking around I forgot about my hands and stretched my arms to the sky with a hoarse croak of joy.
The sky was the coarse wool-gray of a winter's day. The once majestic skyscrapers and freeways of Tokyo lay about me in ruins.
"SHIT!"
I forgot to say niktu.
... 2 days later...
While wandering the deserted giant game of dominos gone awry that was once Shibuya I had discovered a few things. Boiled water from the ground doesn't taste very good just as I had remembered. I had found a pack of half-starved dogs and killed them with piece of broken window. Maybe it's the lack of soy sauce, but they sure didn't taste like Chinese. I haven't grown tired the whole time. I'm sure I've been wandering for a few days. If I include the time spent underground, I should be past the point of exhaustion.
Something odd was going on. I was starting to feel a bit freaked out, and not just because the world had apparently been destroyed while I was sleeping. I didn't have my cell phone, wallet or keys. I can't imagine someone finding me underground stealing my wallet and then just leaving me there. For hours I've seen a tall building in the distance like a giant pyramid with no cap. Either something is still alive, or it was a really well made building.
The highways had begun to grow smoother. Maybe the damage didn't stretch across the whole world. As long as there weren't any zombies, I'd be happy.
After a few more hours passed, I noticed vehicles approaching from the distance. Eagerly, I broke into a jog. Soon, I noticed it was bikes and what looked like dune buggies, scenes of "Fist of the North Star" passed through my head. If anyone's head explodes I'm out of here.
As they grew closer my dread was realized. Seven or eight punks that appeared to be ripped out of a bad 80's movie began to circle me. A punk riding a wannabe Yamaha with a pink Mohawk and a purple star on his left cheek swung a chain toward my chest.
I'm a fighter. I've been trained and I'm not surprised at the knowledge that may come with adrenaline, but I'm in rather average physical shape…or so I thought.
My right arm swung up to a vertical allowing the chain to wrap around my forearm. I stepped back into a low horseman stance pulling the chain and my arm back, the punk flew though the air as my left hand came forward in a mid palm strike. I felt his sternum snap like a twig.
I stared at my hand dumbstruck, as the punk lay on the ground with blood pouring from his mouth. I'm guessing that probably pierced his lungs if he was lucky. He was quite possibly dead and my arm didn't even hurt from where the chain struck.
In one of the 'dune buggies', a larger punk shouted something and all of other vehicles turned to flee. I don't want that to happen. These are the first people I've come across and I'd like to know where I am, and if any semblance of society survived.
I kicked my right leg up and to the left while jumping off the ground with my left. Completing a full spin I threw my right arm forward in a strike. The chain slung through the air and struck the large punk that had shouted. I was reminded again that there was something amiss about my body as I watched his head shatter like a watermelon.
The rest of the punks rode off out of range. In horror, I allowed the chain to fall from my arm to the ground and stared at my hands. I just killed two people.
Damn.
Well, why waste a free motorcycle.
I rode towards the tower in the distance. As I rode, the word the punk had shouted occurred to me, "Boomer."
Double Shit.
In a dark room, a screen showed Max riding toward the distant Genom tower, another screen showed a curly, dark haired man waking up in a hospital room and another showed a dark bedroom with a small boy and a bleating alarm clock. A man sat in front of the screens with his fingers crossed and index fingers pointed up hiding his dark smile. His glasses aglow, reflecting the screens before him.
"Yes, my children. Wake up. Remind Genom what they could have had."
TBC: I, Boomer?
