Authoress Update: So here it is. The chaspter that demanded to be told, despite my intentions of getting right into the action. But then I suppose if I let Rev just join, I'd be doing the same mistakes the series did, wouldn't I?
The Future Is Wild!
By Nefertanya dragongurl Ahhotep
Chapter 21: Meanwhile, A World Away
On top of a pointed peak, about forty miles outside Borasilica, a lone, thin, sad figure stood, one hand resting on the gnarled trunk of a scrawny, fire-damaged tree. It was as if the figure was trying to give comfort to a grieving friend at a graveside service.
And, in part, it was - for Rev at least. Save that the service never ended, the coffin still in plain view waiting for the warm sand to put it to rest inside the earth it came from.
"A dead world. A dead, useless, worthless world. It's not fair!" Rev's inner voice wailed to him. "It wasn't supposed to be this way!!"
After the visible fires had been put out and any radiation leaks sealed and clean, Rev, like nearly all of the full-time residents of Borasilica, had expected to return home-or at least to what was left of it-and resume the daily grind of nourishing and nursing the academic wheels of Four Corners University. So it was a major surprise and upset when all the academic and governmental officials declared the city unsafe and inhospitable. What ever you had left with, the citizens were told, was all you had. There would be no trips back. And to add insult to injury, the military installed a fleet of roverbots1, quick and sure-sighted, in the city ruins. Their swarm-like ways were quickly learned and feared by the individuals who dared try to penetrate the barbed wire borders. That had left Rev with no income, no possessions, and nowhere to go but the one place he had so desperately tried to escape- the backwater village of San Gonzales2.
San Gonzales. Once, centuries ago, it had been home to a warm, close-knit community of Roadrunners. Hampered only by the occasionally successful Coyote, the community thrived well enough to attract other desert denizens- gerbils, mice, reptiles, and owls. The non-runner population swelled, but the runners' never minded, so long as there was the freedom of the road, and in fact delighted in the pride their stationary neighbors had in their hard-won successes, and mourned in sympathy when Ch'ikii-t'iishi3 came calling instead. The center of their world was a spire of reddish-orange rock that seemed to touch the azure skies. For the runners, it was home base-wherever you ran to, that was the point you ran from. It was never empty, as one family lived there a short time before leaving it to another family.
Eventually, the humans came. Misunderstanding the roadrunners ways, and not really caring about the non-human populace, they called the region theirs, and set up a government and system of land ownership. The sacred spire became the home to the chiefs and their successors. Both parties grew frustrated, as the humans were constantly shooing the birds out of 'Their God-Given Home'. History and prejudice eventually forced the evacuation of the village, but the incoming settlers found the land too arid for crops, not enough water for big cattle, and no precious metals. And so San Gonzales was returned to the roadrunners in time for the birth of a hero- the 'Purple Bullet'.
And through him, came Rev Runner. Ironically cursed by cherished blood, little Rev had desired nothing greater than to escape the backwater village and outshine his ancestor. But the tiny schools in his area were woefully outdated-even the meatloaf special was rumored to be fifty years old. And the best-paid jobs belonged to 'city-slickers' with enough skeletons in their closets to be considered too big a liability, but too valuable to their companies to be let go. Like the humans before them, they tried to elbow out the current populace in an effort to 'green up the desert' with condos, Mcmansions, and well-trimmed golfing greens. Fortunately, this time the desert itself was an endangered species, and any politician worth his salt knew better than to upset voters by allowing further destruction.
And so, thanks to campaign slogans like "No New Development!" and a closely guarded job pool, Rev felt he was denied a shot at success and glory. And so, when he turned seventeen, despite his mother's pleadings, he packed his bags and moved into a tiny apartment in downtown Borasilica, becoming a delivery boy for no less than three employers at a time, just to make ends meet. Tips were lousy, the other employees made him the butt of their jokes, and his employers were fond of inventing reasons why his pay needed to be docked. Through it all, Rev remained optimistic that the recognition he craved was just around the bend, if he could only push a little harder each day. In the few moments he could catch, he poked and tinkered with small gizmos, with the few Qwills he could spare, he picked up tattered manuals and pored over them with the same relish fans of British literature had over a first edition Harry Potter book.
Then the meteor came, bringing the little bird untold amounts of speed, at the cost of losing all the family he ever had. Oh yeah, and he was bright red again too.
"Thisissolame.Ican'teventalknormalanymore! Heh,notlikeanyonewouldevenwanttotalktomeinthefirstplace."
Taking a final glance at the ruined city, the long-legged bird ran from the burnt-out outskirts of Borasilica five hundred miles away to his little hometown. As Rev sped down the main dirt road, dust devils churned up, causing several gerbils to rant over their once-clean laundry.
Rev did not stop however, not until he reached the tattered wood and wire fencing that surrounded his ancestral home. There was still an essence of majesty emanating from the rough rock, enough to stir deep-seated awe in all who stood before it.
But for Rev that awe was tinged with hate, for it was the very power of the mountain that destroyed his family, and guilt, because he hadn't been able to save them, despite gaining this incredible speed.
"Ohmama!Icanoutrunanyoneandanythingnow,justlikeIalwayswanted.Butwhat'sthepointofhavingsuperspeedifIcan'thaveyouandGearwithme?!" His chest began to heave as tears began to well up. "Ikeepdreaming hic thatyouguysreallygotevacuatedintime hic ,thatthisisallanightmare,andI'mgoingtoopenmyeyesandseeGearstealingmystuff….ButIt'sNot!!!!"
He threw himself upon the craggy rock and wailed like he had so many days before. Borasilica was in ruins, and he had acquired a new kind of speech impediment that made people turn away in annoyance after a few minutes. What was he supposed to do now? What good was he?
Behind him, unseen, a pair of old owls hooted sadly as they watched the broken-hearted creature. They had lived in the Saguaro cacti for many years, and had immersed themselves in the tiny family, indulging Wyanet's two chicks with fresh-caught lizards and juicy scorpions whenever she wasn't looking. But the giant cactus was broken, and would take many more years than they had left to become livable again. But that didn't stop them from fussing.
"Oh Papa." She cooed. "Vat ever can ve do?"
"Nuzzingk, Mama. He is a big boy now. He has to learn his own way."
"But he is hurting! Ve must do sumethink!"
"Dere is nuzzling! Nuzzingk! He must be strong!" He emulated bulging biceps, then turned and lifted off quite heavily. Mama gave a last, fretting once-over at the boy before turning to follow.
"Ah!" She paused as a thought occurred to her, and discreetly plucked something out of her purse. She turned towards the ruined cactus and quickly attached two treasures: a snippet of dried snakeskin, and a brown feather. With a quickly blown kiss to Rev's back, she stretched her tattered wings to follow her husband to a new home bereft of character and memories.
The wind generated by her flight caused the snake shed and the tiny puff of tattered down left behind to shiver4. A sudden whooshing roar sound came from overhead.
Roverbots: Small to medium-sized machines used to explore areas when the environment is considered too dangerous for biologicals. A good example is Spirit, the Mars Rover. Here, however, they have been programmed to intercept would-be salvagers by congregating in the surrounding area and generating a 'shock field', detaining the person until deactivated by code.
San Gonzales: In the roadrunner language of Beep, it is called 'city of the pillar' after the towering structure renowned as the home of the Road Runner that forms the center hub of the once thriving town. Mapmakers opted instead to name it after a regional mouse who, though never canonized, was declared the 'Saint of the Small' for his dangerous and noble efforts to expose the hazardous working environments of local rodent populations due to unscrupulous government agencies in the 23rd century.
Ch'ikii-t'iishi: The roadrunner goddess of ill luck, considered responsible for the arrival of a Mo-habe, a roadrunner chick born with leg deformities. It is said she can only be appeases by leaving fresh snake sheds impaled on cactus thorns.
Snake shed and feather: As noted above, snake sheds are considered a way to appease the goddess Ch'ikii t'iishi. Having spent years in the Runners' backyard, Mama has learned a thing or 2, like the addition of a personal feather to the offering as a way of absorbing the bad luck from the afflicted
Hi, me again! Liked it? Anyhoo, I just want to ask all you Rev fans if there's an episode where Rev actually matters. I saw 'Family Business' recently, and was annoyed by a concurrent fact with speedsters: they don't matter. Rev's off visiting his family, constantly late for every evildoer intervention. And what does Ace say? "Eh, it's okay. We got it under control." In other words- 'You have no significant power, so we only need ya ta fetch stuff for Tech." So, does he matter?