New Forum Game

At a reader's suggestion, this new forum is open to all kinds of chat, excluding obvious spam.

Re: New Forum Game

Postby slaven41 » Mon Jul 19, 2010 5:05 pm

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy a shot of water, to hydrate before putting on his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and he felt the heat of the explosion on his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, completely crushing the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make, since Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.
"It's only Neutron. We call him that because he's so positive." --from This Island Earth
User avatar
slaven41
 
Posts: 342
Joined: Sun Jun 25, 2006 5:52 pm
Location: Iowa, Earth

Re: New Forum Game

Postby admin » Tue Jul 20, 2010 6:45 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy a shot of water, to hydrate before putting on his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and he felt the heat of the explosion on his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, completely crushing the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make, since Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choak on the barely breathable atmosphere.
admin
Site Admin
 
Posts: 1661
Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2005 9:24 pm

Re: New Forum Game

Postby Stinky93 » Tue Jul 20, 2010 9:53 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy a shot of water, to hydrate before putting on his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and he felt the heat of the explosion on his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, completely crushing the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make, since Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty.
User avatar
Stinky93
 
Posts: 148
Joined: Fri Nov 16, 2007 10:39 am
Location: Tulsa, Ok, USA

Re: New Forum Game

Postby slaven41 » Thu Jul 22, 2010 9:07 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy a shot of water, to hydrate before putting on his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and he felt the heat of the explosion on his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, completely crushing the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make, since Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He took his water bottle out of his suit, poured it into the shattered faceplate of his assailant, and watched it quickly freeze.
"It's only Neutron. We call him that because he's so positive." --from This Island Earth
User avatar
slaven41
 
Posts: 342
Joined: Sun Jun 25, 2006 5:52 pm
Location: Iowa, Earth

Re: New Forum Game

Postby admin » Tue Jul 27, 2010 7:15 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and he felt the heat of the explosion on his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudges his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air.
admin
Site Admin
 
Posts: 1661
Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2005 9:24 pm

Re: New Forum Game

Postby slaven41 » Sat Jul 31, 2010 9:32 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and he felt the heat of the explosion on his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up.
"It's only Neutron. We call him that because he's so positive." --from This Island Earth
User avatar
slaven41
 
Posts: 342
Joined: Sun Jun 25, 2006 5:52 pm
Location: Iowa, Earth

Re: New Forum Game

Postby admin » Sun Aug 01, 2010 6:47 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.
admin
Site Admin
 
Posts: 1661
Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2005 9:24 pm

Re: New Forum Game

Postby Stinky93 » Wed Aug 04, 2010 8:39 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.

They weren't your stereotypical little green men, but they did have some features that made you think of those old time sci-fi vids.
User avatar
Stinky93
 
Posts: 148
Joined: Fri Nov 16, 2007 10:39 am
Location: Tulsa, Ok, USA

Re: New Forum Game

Postby admin » Mon Aug 09, 2010 7:27 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.

They weren't your stereotypical little green men, but they did have some features that made you think of those old time sci-fi vids. They had so much protective blubber that they were almost round, and their eyes rose from the tops of their heads on prehensile stalks.
admin
Site Admin
 
Posts: 1661
Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2005 9:24 pm

Re: New Forum Game

Postby Brightonian » Tue Aug 10, 2010 8:33 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.

They weren't your stereotypical little green men, but they did have some features that made you think of those old time sci-fi vids. They had so much protective blubber that they were almost round, and their eyes rose from the tops of their heads on prehensile stalks. All nine of the eye-stalks were pointing at him.
Brightonian
 
Posts: 480
Joined: Tue Mar 21, 2006 1:56 pm
Location: Brighton, UK

Re: New Forum Game

Postby tony413 » Wed Aug 11, 2010 11:06 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.

They weren't your stereotypical little green men, but they did have some features that made you think of those old time sci-fi vids. They had so much protective blubber that they were almost round, and their eyes rose from the tops of their heads on prehensile stalks. All nine of the eye-stalks were pointing at him. Still kneeling, Calvin quickly twisted his body as far as he could, trying to reach for the fake cop's pockets.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon,
good evening, and good night! — The Truman Show (1998)
---------------- http://www.entropyedge.com ----------------
User avatar
tony413
 
Posts: 8
Joined: Wed Aug 11, 2010 9:25 am

Re: New Forum Game

Postby admin » Thu Aug 12, 2010 7:50 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.

They weren't your stereotypical little green men, but they did have some features that made you think of those old time sci-fi vids. They had so much protective blubber that they were almost round, and their eyes rose from the tops of their heads on prehensile stalks. All nine of the eye-stalks were pointing at him. Still kneeling, Calvin quickly twisted his body as far as he could, trying to reach for the fake cop's pockets. He felt one gentle eye-stalk come to rest on his shoulder, while another dipped into the unconscious man's pocket and pulled out the handcuff control device.
admin
Site Admin
 
Posts: 1661
Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2005 9:24 pm

Re: New Forum Game

Postby tony413 » Sat Aug 14, 2010 10:06 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.

They weren't your stereotypical little green men, but they did have some features that made you think of those old time sci-fi vids. They had so much protective blubber that they were almost round, and their eyes rose from the tops of their heads on prehensile stalks. All nine of the eye-stalks were pointing at him. Still kneeling, Calvin quickly twisted his body as far as he could, trying to reach for the fake cop's pockets. He felt one gentle eye-stalk come to rest on his shoulder, while another dipped into the unconscious man's pocket and pulled out the handcuff control device. Telepathy wasn't Calvin's strong point, but he sensed some urgency in the Martians' behavior.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon,
good evening, and good night! — The Truman Show (1998)
---------------- http://www.entropyedge.com ----------------
User avatar
tony413
 
Posts: 8
Joined: Wed Aug 11, 2010 9:25 am

Re: New Forum Game

Postby admin » Sun Aug 15, 2010 7:05 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.

They weren't your stereotypical little green men, but they did have some features that made you think of those old time sci-fi vids. They had so much protective blubber that they were almost round, and their eyes rose from the tops of their heads on prehensile stalks. All nine of the eye-stalks were pointing at him. Still kneeling, Calvin quickly twisted his body as far as he could, trying to reach for the fake cop's pockets. He felt one gentle eye-stalk come to rest on his shoulder, while another dipped into the unconscious man's pocket and pulled out the handcuff control device. Telepathy wasn't Calvin's strong point, but he sensed some urgency in the Martians' behavior.

The cuffs fell away from his hands.
admin
Site Admin
 
Posts: 1661
Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2005 9:24 pm

Re: New Forum Game

Postby slaven41 » Sun Aug 15, 2010 9:31 am

The fourth of July didn't mean much on Mars. Not when two thirds of the population weren't even human. And those who were human were hesitant to even mention the word "freedom" to those where weren't. Nevertheless, Calvin Winters left work early to mark the occasion. He hoped his supervisor, his son-in-law of all things, wouldn't give him a hard time just this once.

His big mistake, he realized later, was to stop at the water cooler and buy water to refill the water in his protective gear. Jeff was there, and he felt that the least he could do was to take the time to offer his condolences. But how do you express sympathy to a man whose first born son has tested non-human, especially when that man is your boss, your daughter's husband, and hates your guts? He didn't know, but he did know that if he didn't try he would be that much closer to being shipped back to the refugee camps, and that was something he never wanted to see again.

He followed up his clumsy attempt at sympathy by telling Jeff that the thumbots would be finished disinfecting the facility by morning, and he was taking off for the day.

Jeff Schmidt looked down on him from his seven foot height and said, "If you don't want this job, Winters, I'm sure I can find someone who does." What he wouldn't give to wipe that smug look off his face. A quick twist of his wrist to release the concealed phase cannon, followed by two short bursts from the vicious weapon, ended up doing so much more than simply wiping the smug look off his face. It was a lovely daydream, and by the time Winters snapped out of it, his boss was walking back to his office. As he watched Jeff's shoulders recede into the gloom, his thoughts turned towards the meeting he would have later this evening.

In theory, since he had a genetic code that tested within human parameters, Calvin enjoyed all the rights that every free human was guaranteed under the Corporate Charter. It took an uprising and the loss of two domes before the corporations would even sit down and talk. Now, everyone was walking on eggs, and the feeling was that the human citizens of Mars had their hard-won rights, just so long as they didn't exercise them.

He fastened the straps on his out-of-dome suit (less unpleasant than waiting for an hour in the tube line for a two minute ride) and began walking home. He only made it halfway to the front gate when he felt the ground shudder. His shadow leaped out across the Martian sands, and the heat of the explosion washed across his back. In a reflex you developed quickly on Mars, he dropped face down onto the ground in case there was flying debris. The sound itself was muffled, and for once Calvin was grateful for the thin Martian atmosphere.

At first, he thought that someone was helping him up; then he realized that he was being dragged to his feet, and his hands cuffed behind his back. His com link was offline so his yelp of pain went unheard. When he was spun around, he saw a man wearing a cheap imitation of a police uniform; one that could fool someone who was at a distance or who hadn't been arrested very often. The fake policeman was silhouetted against the ruins of the factory where Calvin worked. He gave Calvin a shove and said, "That way."

In the low gravity of Mars, a jump kick to the fake cop's face was almost too easy, but with his hands cuffed, he landed badly. Knowing that speed would make all the difference in this fight, he quickly slammed his heel into the other man's face, cracking the man's faceplate. This left Winters with a decision to make. Martian terraforming had proceeded to the point where the exposure might not kill the man if he was found soon enough.

Mind racing, Winters decided that he could not leave a man to choke on the barely breathable atmosphere. Painfully rising to his feet, he took in the devastation around him; it wasn't pretty. He sucked water from the spiggot inside his faceplate, knelt, caught the chin of his faceplate on the top of the faceplate of the fallen man, and spit water into the crack. The water froze, sealing the gap. He nudged his own faceplate back into place and gasped for air. Winters figured that should last him until the real cops showed up. But the Martians showed up first.

They weren't your stereotypical little green men, but they did have some features that made you think of those old time sci-fi vids. They had so much protective blubber that they were almost round, and their eyes rose from the tops of their heads on prehensile stalks. All nine of the eye-stalks were pointing at him. Still kneeling, Calvin quickly twisted his body as far as he could, trying to reach for the fake cop's pockets. He felt one gentle eye-stalk come to rest on his shoulder, while another dipped into the unconscious man's pocket and pulled out the handcuff control device. Telepathy wasn't Calvin's strong point, but he sensed some urgency in the Martians' behavior.

The cuffs fell away from his hands. As two of the Martians picked up still-unconscious cop, the third handed Calvin an envelope.

[Note: 9 eye-stalks = 3 Martians, right? :-) ]
"It's only Neutron. We call him that because he's so positive." --from This Island Earth
User avatar
slaven41
 
Posts: 342
Joined: Sun Jun 25, 2006 5:52 pm
Location: Iowa, Earth

PreviousNext

Return to Chat

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests

cron