Chapter 9
Unamed Ghost Town, No Man's Land
"Hey, look at the periwinkle horses! Do you see them?" Milly Thompson was talking in her sleep again. Ania Solezulam rolled her eyes as she looked over at the tape recorder that she had purchased from a rummage sale at a house that was in the process of being sold after the last of the owners had passed away. It had been turned on a few hours ago.
"Really?" She was skeptical but decided to play along.
"They're dancing to Mozart! Again!" This was a gem of an answer. She swore that with this line, there was a chance of winning one of these contests she had had told Vash really existed. Ania had dialed through the frequencies on the local radio to find shows that held such contests involving sleep-talking people and found a few that was ongoing. The bounty hunter had laughed so hard as she listened to the people on these programs narrate out some of the entries that were sent. Occasionally they would broadcast tape soundtracks like the one she was making; these were funnier because they were footage of real people's voices.
But Ania knew that Meryl Stryfe found things like it to be irritating; she had lost count of how many times the woman had took out her earplugs whenever the trio of females had to share the same room. But nevertheless, it was worth the time to collect the records of Milly's sleeptalking.
Meryl stirred awake. Muttering curses under her breath, she wandered to the bathroom door. Ania had assumed that the woman needed to pee, and badly enough. There were times that Ania had overheard Meryl muttering idle threats toward Milly out of sheer frustration with her ditzy assistant's antics. One time the taller woman had bumped into a lamppost in Pablo's Gauntlet while she was totally spaced out. It had ended up denting the thing a bit. The bounty hunter had assumed that Milly had a lot of upper body strength, a necessity for lugging her giant stungun.
'At least she has Meryl to keep her on track,' Ania thought. Standing up from her bed, she headed for the bathroom to grab a glass of water.
"Good morning, Ania," The smaller brunette muttered as she took a toothbrush from her toiletry bag and squeezed some toothpaste on it.
"I swear that some of the things Milly says in her sleep are just as bizarre as Liddell's Bizzaro Dreamscape," Ania sighed. Meryl shuddered at that one. That movie was one of No Man's Land's worst-reviewed. The professional critics blasted the incoherent storyline, the amateurish directing and the costuming choices. To make it worse, the small studio who had produced the movie was due to go out of business later that year and this movie was their last attempt at a blockbuster.
"Not to mention that whoever ever conceived the idea of this atrocious movie deserves to be fired," Meryl snorted, "The creepy hand puppets? No way would I dare touch them!"
"And some of the scenes looked like it was written on a drunken night," Ania though out loud, "If there's one thing that stand out in my mind is that there were rumours that the director had alcoholism, which certainly explain why so many scenes were so disjointed."
"There are also allegations that someone spiked the guy's alcohol with magic mushrooms. It really cemented the psychedelic tone though," Meryl's observation made sense.
"M-m-magic mushrooms!?," Ania burst out laughing, "I can't believe somebody actually had the idea to bring them aboard!"
"It was maybe one of the scientists' pet projects, though," Milly interjected into the conservation the duo was having, "Probably a study on how hallucinogenic substances could be modified by lengthy space travel."
Meryl and Ania's reaction to this unexpected observation was quite comical. Meryl just fell on the floor, her limbs in a tangled mess above her while Ania did a gigantic jaw drop, complete with tongue rolling out of her mouth like carpet. After they had recovered from the initial shock, there was a flash of the dreaded White Eyes of Rage from Meryl.
"WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?" Milly cowered comically under the wrathful gaze of her partner, while Ania sweatdropped at the scene.
'Oh, great. More useless research,' Ania thought as she pondered Milly's observation. It was far-fetched, but it still made sense in that context. No wonder her father was frustrated with the Council of Technological Research for granting scientists money for projects of dubious value. One particular project focused on breeding the aforementioned mushrooms to get stronger psychoactive properties. It obviously didn't bear fruit as these enhanced fungi required very specific conditions that were only found on the world of humanity's birth. Another grant funded the research of mechanical airborne drones, but the problem was that the harsh sandstorms of No Man's Land had the capability to rapidly wear down the propellers and wings of airborne vessels; as a result, these drones were virtually useless in the wastelands.
Her stomach gave out a loud rumble; it was in this moment that the blue-skinned gunslinger realized that she was ravenously hungry. Both Milly and Meryl sweatdropped at this noise; they had expected this from Vash the Stampede, but not from Ania.
Ania and Vash's plates were equally filled with food to outlandish levels. While the red-clad gunslinger inhaled his grub at a pace that would make people stare at him as if he was crazy, Ania was very boorish in her approach, shoveling every piece in her mouth and chewing with her mouth open. It had been a continued source of embarrassment for Meryl as her unrefined behaviour often rubbed on other people's nerves.
She had assumed that it was some form of rebellion against norms of what was expected of a daughter of a renowned intellectual. From what she could recall, many were often snobbish and less concerned with the mundane, instead choosing to focus on the erudite. It was not unlike the family of her classmate Ulrike Heinrich IV; the young woman had come from a wealthy family in New July. The Heinrichs had produced many scholars, like the legendary botanist Ulrike Heinrich I, and the physicist Neumann Heinrich. But however, despite intense pressure to go into the sciences, Ulrike had chosen to go into accounting to escape the family legacy. It had succeeded, at the cost of losing her inheritance. But the woman never cared much for them, calling them 'muddled-headed snobs who were slowly forgetting the big picture.'
It was not until years later that the Heinrich family ended up going bankrupt after piling up debt after debt; Ulrike's two sisters and three brothers lost their inheritances to creditors as they rifled through everything, including the will of the late Bartholomew Heinrich II to recover assets owed to them. As a results the remaining five siblings were forced to became breadwinners. One was just beginning her life as a housewife; after her husband was arrested for lying to creditors, she had no choice but to prostitute herself out to men to earn money to feed her son. A brother found himself under the supervision of an exploitative manager of an iron mine; the working conditions were so poor to the point that accidents were frequent. He died two years into his tenure when a boulder crushed him. The rest became embittered alcoholics because of the sudden change in their circumstances.
"Any news on the Maimouth Project yet?" Milly's question to Ania broke Meryl out of her thoughts. The aforementioned development was a terraforming project that was years in the making. The various squabbles between various factions working on it had delayed the venture for years.
"The fucking Council denied the necessary funding. Again," Ania snarled as she stuffed her face with yet another bite of pancake.
"No wonder your dad is so irritated with them. The rampant corruption there is hampering the Council's function," Milly pointed out. There were times that even Milly had been frustrated by the squabbles in the Council of Technological Research. One notable incident years ago involved a long-standing squabble between two of the members there. Dr. Melinda Shasta and Dr. Roger Barnhart butted heads over almost everything, including the Maimouth Project. Dr. Shasta wanted to funnel the clear majority of the Council's funds into it, but Dr. Barnhart stonewalled her at every opportunity. This caused resentment between the two, as they had vastly differing views that were incompatible. The feud between them grew through the years, with each other sabotaging each other's projects at every opportunity. This grew to a head when Dr. Shasta hacked Dr. Barnhart's computer remotely and exposed his dirty laundry, including his previous convictions on assault and fraud counts. In turn Dr. Barnhart exposed Dr. Shasta's infidelity and various affairs with her students.
However, the newspapers went further and exposed Dr. Barnhart's history of domestic violence, including his role in the murder of a fiancée who tried to leave him and Dr. Shasta's incompetence; many of her projects had failed to yield results. After further investigation it turned out Dr. Shasta's degree was fraudulent, and the woman was quickly sent to prison. Dr. Barnhart had followed her there after a lengthy trial involving many witnesses and pieces of evidence.
"Not to mention the lying and the backstabbing going on behind the scenes," Marianne Cayzen pointed out, "My uncle worked there for many years and he said that the place was full of toxicity. People cutting each other down behind their back and lying to others. Many fraudulent applications were approved during his tenure. The higher-ups kept passing the buck when they weren't supposed to. And there were absolutely zero accountability there."
"My dad says that these practices are still ongoing, though," Ania jabbed a fork at Marianne.
"Do your father, by any chance, happen to be Dr. Cegrim Von?" The query caught the gunslinger off-guard.
"Yes," she replied as she inhaled another bite of food.
"That explain so much about your knowledge of their politics," the blonde woman pointed out.
"Not to mention there's rumours of shady dealings with the various criminal organizations on No Man's Land," Cliff Schezar added, "If I know anything about crime, it's that they will come for what's owed to them. Especially when it is a project they can exploit to gain profits."
"Like the Moors Debacle?" Vash chimed in. That event revolved around the Moors, a well-known building project in Macca City slated to be expensive condos. It had collapsed mysteriously one day during construction, killing 89 people. All of them were construction workers. During inquiries it turned out that the support columns were woefully inadequate for the task they were designed. Upon further investigation it turned out that the owners were threatened with death by the local criminal organization there unless they hired the contracting firms of a major underboss. This attracted a great deal of attention from the media and even now, the area where the Moors were remained empty as various factions disputed over what to do with it.
"And the collapse of the Beth Shalom Synagogue in Octovern?" Ania chimed in, "I heard it was a newly built house of worship for the Jewish community there."
"Yeah, the walls and roof collapsed upon the congregation during Sabbath services," Milly recalled, "522 people died and over 706 were injured. We were called upon to assess the damage there a year ago."
"It turned out the Augusta Mafia infiltrated the building crew there," Meryl added, "Forced the managers to pay pizzo or face being violently killed."
"I'm not surprised that what was supposed to go toward quality building materials was diverted to that odious 'tax'," Ania snarled, punctuating her statements with air quotes.
"I've heard rumours about the new mayor of Gallus. Seems that he has a beef with the Capuchin friars on the town's outskirts," Cliff's eyes swept over the quartet's faces.
"Er… I don't get what you are talking about," Ania sweatdropped nervously while scratching her head.
"Neither do I," Milly followed suit with an embarrassed laugh.
When Cliff thought about it, it made sense. The Capuchins at Gallus were a reclusive bunch though, they often didn't come to town unless it was necessary. Although the friars still donned their traditional habits with one exception; they wore footwear. The reason was that the sands of No Man's Land could be searing hot to the point it caused serious burns to bare feet. As a result, the order had grudgingly declared them to be a necessity.
"They said he wants the Capuchins' land for a housing development," he pointed out.
"Just great, another self-proclaimed leading genius," Ania rolled her eyes before she snarked, "his ego would fit nicely in a mousehole."
"Not to mention that the profits from such a project would have been massive enough to justify such a thing, Ania. Greed runs the world, remember?" Meryl snorted.
The Tower
She dreamed of forgotten voices from long ago.
"Dr. Hachiyama, you have been promoted to high technician for the Harmonia project,"
The labs where she worked at.
"The variable readings have changed on subject 33-4,"
"Subject 29-1 has shown signs of expiring, Hachiyama-sama,"
The long-forgotten faces of dead colleagues.
"Do you wanna go out for drinks, Tae?,"
"Happy Birthday, Tae-chan!"
"Congratulations, Dr. Hachiyama,"
The face of her boss, his face frozen in terror as swords disembowelled him to death.
"Please protect the assets of Project HARMONIA, Herr Hachiyama," his last words echoed repeatedly in the dreams, overlaid all over the dream slash flashbacks.
Hachiyama Taeko woke, panting. These dreams were so real… it was like long-buried memories.
"You ok?" Oda hovered around her head.
"I think these dreams I had were snippets of my previous life," She replied.
"You know all too well the rule against seeking past lives, Taeko," Her ghost replied.
Taeko could remember all too well the day she had foolishly asked Zavala if there were any guardians who remembered their past lives. His withering glare quickly shot down the idea. She had assumed at the time that it had something to do with his previous life among the Awoken military. As much as the two had in common with their loathing of the Queen, they both admitted that she had been indispensable in the takedown of Oryx, the Taken King.
"But these memories could be clues to what I must do," the female Voidwalker replied.
"Maybe it's time to consult with Ikora?"
The ratchet of various voices chattering, some in heated debates grated on Yuri Petrovich Sokolov's nerves. He desperately wanted some peace and quiet, so he could focus on his necessary work of investigating potential candidates for analysis.
Although he didn't quite meet some of the stereotypes of his country, like big, beefy brutes (That honor belonged to the titans from the motherland), his colleagues had agreed that he fit other stereotypes like the perpetual love for the national drink of Russia, and his tendency to drink to deal with the stresses of his life as a Guardian.
His desk was piled high with various tomes on astronomy. On the bulletin board there were satellite-derived images of binary stars scrawled with notes in both Russian and English. Other pins were of readings derived from the sensors installed on them.
So far, he had found six anomalies so far. Some of them had turned up to be dead ends, but two bore signs that begged closer observation. The first was 43 Eridani and the other was Delta Trianguli.
Although both were good candidates, he thought that 43 Eridani was a better candidate because it had a consistently visible orbital disk and several large gas giants that absorbed most of the rogue asteroids. Planets like these were essentials to sustaining life because they sheltered the smaller planets in the Goldilocks zones around each star from dangerous comet and meteor impacts that could potentially wipe out the lifeforms developing there.
"Yuri, remember the Ishtar Cliffs?" Anatoly was lost in reminiscing.
"Yes, Sherman had the gall to do such a moronic thing! Yeblya titans!" Yuri replied.
"And that time he accidently demolished a building in the European Dead Zone?"
"Zavala was not happy with him. He looked absolutely furious," He recalled the incident. That building that meathead of an American had demolished was one of immense historical value, as it was one of the few intact buildings dating from before the Golden Age.
"And the time Murphy and Sherman got in hot water with the Vanguard over an incident at Cayde's favorite ramen shop?" Anatoly circled around the Warlock's head.
"Da, it turned out that they got in a brawl with troublemakers there," he recalled, "It wasn't their fault. The gangsters had the gall to call Murphy a 'despicable nigger' and it set off Sherman's considerable temper. He would have killed these two if other titans hadn't restrained him."
Yuri's concentration was suddenly interrupted by cursing in Mexican Spanish. Ricardo Melendez stumbled into his work area. It was commonly known that the Hispanic warlock was among some of the clumsiest Guardians and it showed in how he found it difficult to coordinate simple movements. Yuri had long suspected that Melendez had dyspraxia. It was a disorder that manifested in difficulty planning and coordinating physical movement, and it showed in how frequently he tripped and bumped into things and people, including his fellow Guardians.
Melendez's manifestation was in ideational and ideomotor areas; he struggled frequently with walking and running and even now it was still there. Even after long, intensive training sessions under Ikora. His glide was also among the most ungraceful-looking, due to this awkwardness.
"You tripped again, Melendez?" His question wasn't surprising.
"Sí, Sokolov," the taller man replied. He begun fidgeting with the rosary around his neck. Yuri knew from observation that the man had been an observant Roman Catholic in his previous life. He had no love for religion; he had learnt the hard way, but he couldn't even recall how that had begun.
It was a side effect of his resurrection. Many Guardians, like him had forgotten their previous life. Some of them had taken their names from personal effects around their corpses, like Ana Bray. She had been revived with her Clovis Bray ID badge. Her obsession with seeking out her previous life had grated on Zavala's nerves and before she had died at Twilight Gap, the two had argued frequently.
Yuri had his new ID badge issued by Clovis Bray and a copy of the first part of Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace. The notation in the front of the book had read, "Congratulations on your graduation, Yur'yan! Love from your Babushka!"
"Have you heard the rumours? About the Young Wolf?" Ricardo's query was brushed off.
"I don't have time for incessant gossiping!"
Ricardo blew a raspberry, before he shrugged.
"Ok, ok, I get it. So, about that SEEDS project, there's some unverified rumors that it came from a different company that split off from Clovis Bray a few years before the Collapse," He changed the subject.
"If there was such a thing, there would have been some evidence somewhere. I don't think that this event has happened." Yuri pointed out, "The things transmitted through rumours are always of dubious value."
"And some of them are pretty tall tales," Ricardo pointed out, "I recall one story the refugees I was escorting told me. According to them it was about a legendary crime lord who disappeared mysteriously one day. The stories exaggerated his deeds and misdeeds, and versions contradicted each other. It was hard to tell what was true and false."
"I remember one tale that came from Golden Age Russia. According to it, a Russian mob boss hired hitmen to off his rivals. This event didn't turn out the way he wanted, as he and his rivals were abducted days after he made the deal. Their bodies were found in a shallow grave in a Leningrad town. Some stories claimed the three pissed somebody higher up on the food chain off, while others said the trio saw something they were supposed not to. A third tale claimed they were backstabbed by a fourth faction who wanted their fiefdoms," Yuri's reminiscing was interesting, less to say.
"And there's the legends around Las Cruces Prison. There are claims that it is among one of the most haunted places. They claim that ghosts of murdered prisoners roam the place and that mysterious screams ring out at odd hours," Ricardo explained, "It's not surprising since that place was a flashpoint of the Great Cartel Wars."
Yuri shuddered, that period was a turbulent one for Melendez's homeland. During that era, powerful drug lords and their cartels controlled much of Mexico's regions. Corruption and murders were commonplace; it was also not uncommon to be kidnapped for ransom. But it had been brought to a screeching halt nearly six decades after the Traveller arrived on Earth by new laws that were introduced to combat corruption and racketeering among Mexico's elite.
"There's plenty of odder rumours than that split, though. Like the ones about Wey-Yuta's little parasitoid project," Ricardo pointed out.
"And that mysterious project in the Ishtar Academy? There've been some ongoing debate on what the research really entailed," Yuri put his hand to his chin. He could recall finding this mysterious room in the third basement level of the Academy. He and Anatoly had sent days cataloguing the contents of the room. The terminals had been picked clean by scavengers from the House of Winter of any valuable components many years ago. As a result, valuable data had been permanently lost.
"Sí, I remember seeing that place with my own eyes. I assume that the scientists were researching things there that was related to cyrogenic technology," Ricardo sat on one of the crates and put his feet upon a second, smaller one.
"What made you reach that conclusion?," Yuri's query was expected.
"It's the pendojo tubes. When I opened one of them a few days ago, I found it was filled with liquid nitrogen," He stuck his arms out, "It was probably intended to be a laboratory that developed improved cyro-stasis technology during the Golden age."
"Make sense," Yuri replied, "But the one that stood out in my mind about the room was that busted light-bulb device in the middle of the room."
"An enigma wrapped in a mystery waiting to be unravelled? I'm in," Ricardo's eyes glimmered in anticipation.
Felnarl Town
The ever-ubiquitous Daniel's Whisky No. 8 was the liquor of choice of many people when they wanted to get drunk. Tasted terrible, too. But the town drunks of No Man's Land didn't care, they were too busy escaping the realities of living on a forsaken wasteland of a world through this drink. The distinct gourd-shaped bottle was memorable. The triple-distilled was the most common variety found everywhere.
Markus Granlund had cut off many drunks at his work; the last time he had did so, the pissed-off man had the audacity to pick a fight with him. That fool had learnt the hard way not to mess with a Titan.
He had been resurrected in the ruins of a barrack belonging to the Finnish military. He had assumed that he was a soldier in a previous life, as he had his tunnuslevy with his name on it around his neck. After he had made his way to a nearby settlement, he quickly found that he had a talent for bartending and quickly took over the local tavern after the previous owner passed on from old age.
Markus found his new job was far more enjoyable than shooting aliens; it was about social relationships and offering hospitality to weary travellers. And occasionally he would pick up rumours about various things currently going on. Some of them were ridiculous enough to be scoffed at. Like that exaggerated rumour about some rogue divisions of Clovis Bray being involved in illegal experiments on Exos during the Golden Age. And other spoke of secret hiding places of the Golden Age's rich and famous; from whatever itinerant explorers could find, some had been verified. Kimmer, his ghost, had told him that they weren't immune from the effects of the Collapse. Many had been slaughtered in the attempt to flee to their underground bunkers, while others were killed by forces lurking inside them.
He turned his attention to the bustling bar scene before him. The band playing there with the improvised instruments was always one of his favorite acts. The cadence of the music was unique and quite difficult to replicate without similar instruments and the lengthy experience needed to play them. He had tried his hand at the jug, but it was difficult finding one which didn't crumble under his enhanced strength.
One of the patrons was bragging about his sexual escapades around the town; Markus tuned him out. He didn't like men who took advantage of women; he had personally knocked out many sexual harassers in Schroeder's Saloon. It had arisen from when he had rescued his now-wife Madison from a betrothal to a serial rapist when she was seventeen. After this man had been caught and sent to No Man's Land's only prison after a lengthy trial, it had heralded the fall of Madison's family. Debt collectors begun hounding the once-wealthy Zagitov family, even as they split up to evade them. Some of them had been murdered after they refused to part with the riches that they owed to others.
Madison had disowned them in a widely published newspaper announcement the month after she turned eighteen. It had ended up attracting the attention of various criminal and legal investigators, who were eager to turn up any sordid details about numerous illicit activities the Zagitovs were involved in. Madison had gleefully spilled the beans to get back at her overambitious parents and siblings.
It was at the end of a three-year-long trial that involved thousands of pieces of evidence and testimonies of six dozen individual witnesses including Madison's, that Tyrion and Tyson were conceived. It had occurred on the night after both Viktor and Bianca Zagitov, Madison's parents were sentenced to well over sixty consecutive life sentences in prison on racketeering, murder, pimping and fraud charges.
The fact that Markus and Madison were expecting twins had came as a shock. And the ultrasound had confirmed that the babies were monoamniotic-monochorionic, which came with higher risks, like twin to twin transfusion syndrome and entangling of the umbilical cords. This necessitated a trip to April during the 23th week of that pregnancy. The twins were delivered at 34 weeks, clutching each other's hands soon after their birth.
"I know you're concerned about Tyrion and Tyson. The fact that their strength is showing at such a young age also have me worried, especially because of the injuries they inflicted during schoolyard fights," Kimmer did the Ghost equivalent of pacing and forth.
"I don't know what to do with them. Sending them to school is a risky move, and Madison isn't a very good teacher," He answered.
"I agree, she is really that lousy. At least she has found her niche in bureaucracy," Kimmer replied, "From what we've seen with the Seven Cities, all are bogged down in red tape. Octovern and April are the worst offenders so far. Old July used to be number one, but April has moved up ever since July was lost."
"I can still recall that price-fixing scandal a few years ago. Of all the things they choose, why does it have to be cabbage?" Markus' query caught Kimmer off guard. He knew that his Guardian was fond of foodstuffs made with the vegetable, like sauerkraut and cabbage rolls.
"And the political scandal involving a former Gustav's Sickle councilman? He lied about his taxes while he was running for office in New Las Vegas." The Ghost's observation reminded Markus of the unsavory side of human nature. Greed really did run this world.
"Yes, He was caught red-handed by the United Tax Agency during that campaign. Got six years for tax evasion. Died of old age four years into his sentence," the Titan could recall watching the news story unfold over the weeks the campaign ran, "Remember the time the Augusta Mafia tried to buy out the Lewiston town election?"
"They were also caught red-handed by the falcones, though," Kimmer answered, "The Mafia Commission sanctioned a hit on whoever outed the deal to them. Remember the Valiere debacle?"
"Yeah, that fucking child rapist had the audacity to deny his crimes. The fucking Crewlin studios still kept him, even after the details of his crimes was made public!" Markus's voice had an undercurrent of anger.
"I agree, I wouldn't even trust the guy around children," Kimmer stopped pacing, his eye facing Markus' face.
"Neither would I, Markus. My aunt would drag my cousins to auditions with the intent to make them child stars. She ended up losing child custody to her ex after it was revealed that after many big-wigs rejected her children, she wound up giving them over to a pornographic director. Ever since, they have been drug-addicted and homeless. One had a fatal overdose last August," One of his regulars, a gaunt-looking man with endless tremors snorted.
"Not to mention there's rumours the fucking Catholic Church is up to their old tricks again," A second man spat out, "There's been credible claims that their priests buggered little kids at boarding schools in Lewiston, Valdoor and New Las Vegas."
"Oh yeah, pointing fingers at the prevailing culture instead of admitting that it was a leadership failure. Real slick, Romeo, real slick," A third one sniffed, his beady eyes full of cynicism and hate.
"Not to mention that Valiere sicko molested Keisha Breyan. I hear she passed away last month from liver disease," The first man pointed out.
"It is obvious that this came from her alcoholism, Matt. The drunk bitch was a washout by the time she turned twenty-five," the third man added, "Addictions are everywhere in Crewlin. The complex there care only about profits."
"I am not that surprised. And the harsh reality of this world makes it worse. The deserts are the most unforgiving place to live in," Markus answered.
"And according to recent studies commissioned by a leading health think-tank, alcohol abuse and related diseases and injuries take up nearly seventy-five percent of No Man's Land's health-related expenditures," the second man, Romeo, retorted.
Abandoned Town
The black cat sat on the ledge outside the windows. She licked her paws before she preened, cleaning out the sand and grime while the soft light of Cúig illuminated her. The sudden movement of the windows behind her was startling and she promptly fell off it.
"Kuroneko-sama?" Vash had briefly spotted the cat that sat behind the window in his room. He had pushed aside the ugly-looking curtains and the aforementioned window with the intention to pick her up.
"Marianne wants to show us something," Meryl stepped in his room. Vash was somewhat confused, what was it that the woman wanted to demonstrate?
"There's a Plant machine in the basement. Seems that they were built from schematics years ago." Marianne stood outside the door of his room. Ania flipped her knife repeatedly before she blew a raspberry out of utter boredom.
"Yea, I think Cliff's grandfather was a self-trained mechanic," Milly's observation had some coherence to it.
"Great observation. My dad has been working on prototypes like these. To see that someone had beaten him to the punch would shock him greatly," Ania chimed in, "But the Council have hindered his and many other scientists' important work for many years."
"There are bets everywhere that the next big scandal will come directly from these fools," Meryl snorted, "Even the bookmakers are hedging their bets against them."
"Yeah, I recall the last scandal was that cabbage price-fixing fiasco among the Big Six. They really ran with the idea," Marianne replied as she led the quartet to a nearby stairwell.
The Big Six were the major grocery chains scattered all over No Man's Land. They were called Sainsbury's, Hadley & Waldow, Perris's, ASDA, Target, and Farouk. Target and ASDA was endemic to the December region. The latter was expanding southwest to New Las Vegas, encroaching into areas traditionally held by Hadley and Waldow, known as H&W in short. The aforementioned chain was confined to Octovern and its neighbouring communities, ever since it lost money in a disastrous merger attempt with another chain that had long went bankrupt for unknown reasons.
Perris's was widespread, appearing in nearly every city except December and Old July. The distinct teal green and autumn gold colour scheme helped distinguish them from their competitors; their mascot, a fat man in an apron was also memorable because of his exaggerated moustache and a bitten off ear. According to the current CEO, the image was of his great-grandfather and that the man had his ear bitten off during a prize fight during his brief boxing career.
This brought up some boxing story from before the Collapse in Ania and Meryl's minds. It involved one Evander Holyfield having his ear bitten off by his rival, Mike Tyson II. During the time period it had aired, it had produced quite the furor and Tyson was disqualified. He was sent to prison for that shocking instance of misbehaviour. Even after centuries after this scandalous event, the memory of that particular event had never dulled in intensity among boxing die-hards; It was constantly retold, from mentor to student, and from fan to fan. There was also archival footage of the event that had been brought to No Man's Land by the ships involved in the Big Fall.
Sainsbury's was primarily confined to April, while Farouk was widespread in April and Augusta. However, there were rumours that the corporations controlling both stores was planning a merger. Although word of mouth weren't usually reliable sources, insiders had hinted that such a deal had been on the table for years, and both parties were moving to seal the deal.
"Yes, I recall that mess. Both of my parents were furious," Milly pointed out, "Do you remember the Weiner debacle a few years ago?"
The rest shuddered. That scandal was one of the worst to come out in recent years, as it had involved a potential candidate of the House of Representatives; He was called Antony Weiner. However compromising photos had been released to the public by one of his ex-lovers, and it had basically ruined his rising political career after it turned out that Weiner had a history of sexually assaulting young women under his employment. To make it worse, there were allegations that Weiner had misrepresented his earnings to evade the United Tax agency. Unfortunately for the ass, they were proven true. He ended up serving a lengthy prison sentence for his crimes, and all the money from his campaign fundraising were appropriated to pay off the taxes he had owed as well as paying judgements issued against him from various lawsuits brought by aggrieved parties.
The group descended the dark staircase. A single, flickering light lit the way downstairs, and the painted cinderblock walls reminded Ania of the jail cells she had seen while turning fugitives in. Meryl and Milly had seen them too many times while traversing various governmental buildings as part of their work. They were so institutional-looking. And sterile, too. Especially when they were painted ivory, sea green, or beige.
The group moved through the meandering hallways of the basement. Occasionally they would stumble across some curiosities, like a few brains in jars on a shelf in a deserted laboratory. Another room held numerous miniature models of various vehicles, some originating from before the Collapse and others of current ones, like the 1:24 model of the SNDS Curitania. It was one of six Megahumpback-class sandsteamers made before the company operating them was shuttered in a hostile takeover. They were expensive to make and any more plans to produce them was quickly shot down by the new owners. The capacity of this type was well over 2,500 people. They had a 1,000 square feet spa, a 3,550 square feet casino, a 30x50 swimming pool with the deep end being twelve feet deep, and two water slides. There were well over 1,200 cabins, with luxurious touches everywhere, even in the third-class.
Another room held various antique books. Some of them had been written in archaic languages that had not been spoken in decades, perhaps a century and a half. Ania knew that if her father had seen them, he would be in heaven. He was one heck of a bookworm, and there were times that her mother had to drag him out of book shops.
The Plant room was situated in a natural cavern; the stalactites that hung down were filled with bat like creatures that always came out at night. They often feasted on the fruits of the few native florae of No Man's land. The instruments needed to operate the machine was on the opposite side of where the quintet was standing. The bulbs glowed softly in the dark, as the motors powered by the Plants whirred in sluggish tones.
"Is that the machine you were talking about?" Vash's question made Marianne nod in reply.
"Some of these components aren't joined properly. The vacuum tubes are not supposed to go this way. The regulators aren't even colour coded. And so many safety issues here and there," Ania circled around it, pointing out things only a trained plant technician would know. It wasn't surprising to the rest. As a result of being raised by a Plant researcher, she was taught things that few people knew.
"I recall that one sandsteamer explosion was caused by similar faults like that over fifty years ago," Vash pointed out.
"According to the records in the Bernadelli Insurance Society archives, it was the SNDS Handel," Meryl added, "Nearly 200 people died and another 600 were injuried."
"Yeah, that one was a whammy," Milly added, "It resulted in stricter safety standards for all Plant machines operating all over No Man's land."
A shotgun was pointed at Vash's back.
"Excuse me,"
Glossary
Tunnuslevy: Finnish military identification plate.