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Tales of the CosmiCulture 05
Ruusa Frieza Glowing Neon by the Canal
Chip Oaxaca walked along the Aisha Canal that bisected the Venusian city of New Medina into two separate neon halves. The walls and floor of the canal were tiled blue and white. The blacknightwater of the canal reflectedfluorescent. Whites, blues, and purples. A blinking silver ad for Sterling Gin mirrored in the water. Chip couldn't read Arabic but he recognized the glowing bottle. Iguanas, geckos, and oversized chameleons ran along the canal beside him, some barking at his feet. Ruusa Frieza Walked beside the canal bisecting New Medina. She kicked and glared at the lizards who gathered at her feet. She just wanted to walk alone by the canal. She had the image of a painting in her mind, or a fresca. Ruusa Frieza Glowing Neon by the Canal. There were no lizards in the painting. Chip barked at the lizards and was alone and drunk in the night and felt like being an animal. He laughed when the lizards barked back at him and took a sip from his flask and barked back at them and walked happily beside the canal, stumbling a bit now and then. Chip Oaxaca was in love but he didn't know it yet. Ruusa never saw it coming. She was surrounded by lizards and kicking them away. The lizards, green-scaled rodents ruining a perfectly good neon painting, persisted in following at her feet. Ruusa stopped and leaned forward and threw her hands in fists down by her hips and hair fell in her eyes and she screamed and the noise only brought more of the Venusian rodents. She kicked at them again in frustration and tripped as the lizards ran back and she fell into the canal. A reflected silver bottle was shattered. A perfectly good painting was ruined. A drunk man was laughing. Chip saw the poor girl soaked and yelling at a pack of lizards lined up at the edge of the canal and couldn't hold back his laughter through the drink. He paused to take a sip from his flask and pat a nearby iguana on its head and sat down and removed his shoes and his socks and rolled up his jeans and waded out to the girl and offered her his hand. Ruusa looked up at the man through wet and angry and embarassed and wet hair and slapped the man's hand away and sat crossarmed in the nightblackwater. The man turned and began walking in the direction he came. "Wait!" Chip turned around and walked back and grabbed the girl's hand and helped her up and led her to shore and pushed her wet hair out of her face and laughed. She looked stillangry and he offered her a sip from his flask and she took it. Their eyes met. All four brown and glowing silver in the midnightlight. Chip took her other hand and leaned over and kissed her. It felt like a painting. Across the canal the lizards started barking again. Ruusa removed her lips from his and yelled at the lizards and removed her hands and looked again at the man's eyes and turned and walked back into her silent neon painting. Behind her the lizards ran to catch up, barking at her feet.
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ISSUE THREE: I GOT THESE ARMS AND LEGS
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Tales of the CosmiCulture 04
LeCaros and the God Machine
Dr. Leif LeCaros was a real scientist. He had mastered just about every realm of real science there was. So knowledgeable was he, Dr. LeCaros became known, among many media outlets, as the "Super Scientist," and the title was not without cause. LeCaros had improved just about every household item on the market. He discovered the amazingly complex cure for hyper-AIDS. He built the famous Elevator to the Seventh Dimension (now open at Fantastic ScienceLand). He wrote a six-volume children's novel that completely explained the known universe. He became the first man to visit a parallel reality. And he won the coveted HERCULES OF SCIENCE trophy, an amazing award invented just for him. So accomplished was he, he dared anyone to name a feat of science he could not fulfill. Thanks to his daunting resume, no one responded. No one, except the Reverend Rudolf Graue, who approached Dr LeCaros during a press conference on Pluto. Reverend Graue asked the scientist if he could invent a machine that would allow communication with God. "That's impossible," Dr. LeCaros responded, "Everyone knows that in real science, God does not exist." "Oh, so I guess you can't do it." Dr. LeCaros laughed the reverend off in public, but when he returned to his laboratory, he turned furious. How dare an ignorant Reverend tell him, the Super Scientist, the Hercules of Science, that he could not do something! He started work on the God machine immediately. Dr. LeCaros read every book on ancient summoning rituals. He devoted great hours to the study of Hyper-Christianity. He even visited a modern church ritual. All in preparation for his God machine. Then he set to work. He spent weeks in his laboratory. In fact, he never left, as he pounded away at various metal sheets and microchips. It was tough work, but his ingenuity prevailed, and he finished the machine. He reached for the switch, but halted. His absolute knowledge that there was no God meant he was on the cusp of his first failure. His only consolation in this dreadful moment was that if the machine did, in fact, fail to work, Dr. LeCaros would have absolutely proved, once and for all, that religion was a complete and total sham. LeCaros flipped the switch. The machine shuttered and vibrated. A great cloud of smoke rose out of it and turned blue. It formed into a giant six-armed, three-face humanoid. It said:
HELLO DR. LECAROS I AM GOD I HAVE A MESSAGE FOR YOU
"What--what is it, oh great one?" Dr. Lecaros said, falling to his knees with complete and overwhelming belief in the glory before him.
INVEST IN YOUR FUTURE NOW START YOUR OWN BUSINESS EARN THE INCOME YOU DESERVE! TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR TIME! 800/313/9676
And Dr. LeCaros wept at the beauty.
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CosmiCulture 16
Dub Housing
The office of Leif LeCaros had grey carpeting and white walls and a small brown desk with felt inlay and a built-in metal lamp, various papers, a chrome statue of a rocket ship taking off. There was a small green corduroy couch near the door. There was a camera up in the corner, large, obvious. "We're watching you." Leif paced his office. He wore a white polo tucked into slim grey slacks. In his breast pocket were a mechanical pencil, a cheap black felt tip pen, a miniature screwdriver and a journalist's notebook, squared, not ruled. He had short brown hair, mussed as if it had been pulled for the past hour, day, months. His sideburns were turning prematurely gray. He wore circular steel-rimmed glasses. He sat at the desk and pulled out his notebook and began designing a teleporting pen, that is a pen for field use that would teleport it's user. It was useless. The pen would teleport, but nothing else. Who could work under these conditions? Leif ripped out and crumpled up the page and began throwing it up and catching it mid-air, until he missed and it rolled over into the wastepaper basket. He got up and started pacing again. There was a robot on the couch, matted light grey metal, ovular head. He walked over and smacked it. A tangerine rectangle of light lit up on its chest, then a humming, and its tangerine eyes switched on. "Good morning, Doctor LeCaros." "It's afternoon, I think." "Ah, another day in paradise." "If you can call this rock paradise." "I call this rock the Iris Asteroid. Its mass is 16.2x10 to the 18th kg. It is currently located--" "In space. I know where we are Arlo." "AR-L0. Model number 2091231" "It's just Arlo, and I'm not having that argument again." Dr. Leif LeCaros was currently staying at the HARPO Hospital. It wasn't a hospital for the injured or sick or mentally ill. It was a hospital for great minds. Minds too dangerous to be out there wandering the Solar System, ready to fall into enemy hands. Really, it was more of a prison than a hospital, but it was a little nicer than a prison. Leif had been enjoying a three years stay. He looked out the window and saw space stretching out, and looked back into his cramped office. "I'm sick of this place." "If you are feeling unwell, Doctor LeCaros, I can call one of the orderlies to take you back to your bedroom." "No, I'd prefer those goons stayed out in the hallway." Arlo straightened up. "There's someone at the door." "What are you talking about? There's never anyone at the door." *KNOCK* There was someone at the door. Leif opened it. In slipped Dr. Milo Marek. He had well groomed blonde hair, green eyes. He too was dressed in a white polo and grey slacks. He was HARPO's newest patient. Leif and Milo had already had a few kind exchanges during the two hour Garden Times, bonding over cigarette brands and sitar music and theories of the cosmos. Fast friends, if one could make friends in a place like that. "Milo? How'd you get over here?" Milo pulled an electronic instrument from his pocket and threw it on the sofa. "Psyhotronic Invisibility Emitter." He sat on the couch next to Arlo and lit a cigarette. "They really shouldn't leave so many electronics laying about." "You should be careful with that. They have sensors for those now. You'll get a week locked in your bedroom." "I don't plan on staying here that long." "No?" "I imagine we'll be escaping soon." "We?" "Oh yes. Let me ask you, LeCaros, why did you join up with HARPO to begin with?" "Well, there aren't a ton of options for the enterprising super scientist." "Ibis? Argent? Lee Pierce?" "I wasn't so interested in the money. I wanted to do some good. I wanted to invent things and see them built regardless of profit margins and boardroom politics." "Very noble. And what do you do now?" LeCaros looked over at the wastepaper basket. "Build trick pens." "Alright, then, let's go." "We can't just walk out of here." "Join us, and we'll be free soon enough." "Join who?" "GUESS." "So you would trade me one cell for another?" "Haha, no Dr. LeCaros. GUESS isn't interested in boxing in science. We are interested in running wild and free. We want nothing short of the full strangeness of the universe." Leif looked out his window. Watched all of space swirling out there. "Alright. Ok. Say I join you, how do you plan to get us out of here." "Oh no, Doctor LeCaros, I don't plan on getting us out of here, you will."
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CosmiCulture 15
Ain't No Gentleman At All
The Legba Cafe had a blue neon sign with a blue spider crawling towards the entrance. Its entrance was arched, its walls grey stone with carved arabesques. There were small blood red bottle windows. Inside was a long marble bar, with patterned ornate black swirls and flowers, midnite blue barstools, a large seating section, every table with a red candle, and a small stage. There were bongos on the stage and electric horns and a synthesized upright bass and a woman in ersatz tribal African dress dancing. At the bar was Cornelius Kuti, with hair done up like horns and a beard as though trimmed by a large knife. He wore a crisp clean white suit, with no shirt. He had a necklace of skulls, not real skulls, but carved of real human bones. He was from Nigeria, then Haiti, then Rocket City during the war. He leaned at the bar and watched his patrons. They seemed entertained enough. "Mr. Kuti," it was Harry, the bartender. He wore a silver suit and had silver hair and a bronze face, a strange smile. "Mr. Kuti, we are out of rum." "Run in the back and grab a case, I'll watch the bar." Cornelius walked behind the bar and mixed himself a Sterling's gin and tonic. He squeezed half a lime into it and started stirring as he watched a woman with green hair, in a black turtle neck tucked into black high waisted jeans, walk into the bar and sit down. "Campari, s'il vous plais." His dark brown eyes bore down into her green ones. He studied her for a moment, took a long sip of his gin, and slammed the glass down on the bar. "You should know not to come in her, Jeanne." "I had no choice." "I want nothing to do with your organization." "I am being followed." "By who?" "Nusch's men." Harry returned with the rum. Cornelius grabbed Jeanne deSmarte's arm. "I'll be in the office." His office was wood-paneled. Behind the desk were two crossed machetes. The desk was large and ashen. There was a gazelle skin for a rug and a stuffed goat's head over the door. Cornelius threw Jeanne into the chair and sat down behind the desk. "You led Nusch's men here?" "Of course not, I gave them the slip." "Why would you ever come here?" "You gave us the information on the jewel. You are one of us." "That information came from the gods. I am not one of you. I am not a member of GUESS." "You know no gods, Kuti." There was a commotion out in the bar. Cornelius got up. "I know more gods than you can count, Mademoiselle deSmarte." He parted a painting of feasting lionesses, and through a peephole saw a man, in a blue ascot cap and pinstripe gangster suit and a red-haired woman in green sweater and blue jeans hassling Harry. "Who are these assholes?" Jeanne came and looked through the hole. "The man is Teddy Angel Face, the woman Hot Leggs Holly. They work for the Queen." "The slip, eh?" Jeanne shrugged Harry was panicking and pointing towards the office. Jeanne pulled out her gun. Cornelius smacked her hand. "Put that damn thing away." "You think they won't be armed?" "It's not them I'm worried about." They forced their way into the office, Teddy with his zapgun pointed directly at Cornelis. "Step away Kuti, it's not you we want." Cornelius rammed Teddy right into Hot Leggs, knocking them both over. Hot Leggs hit her head on the wall, went limp. Cornelius grabbed one of the machetes. Teddy came at him. Cornelius slashed his chest. His white suit turned red. Jeanne walked over and nudged Hot Leggs with her foot. "She's still alive." "Yes, and she will stay that way." "Whatever for?" "For sacrifice, Mademoiselle deSmarte, I think you will be seeing just how many gods I know."
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CosmiCulture 14
Rat's Revenge
The streets of Mare Imrbium are dark and strange, twisting off in every direction. Just before it rains it always smells like electric death. It was pouring, and Lazlo Cortazar was sipping coffee out of a styrofoam cup. There were boxes of Chinese take out littered on the passenger seat. His car was brown, dirty, boxy. It still had wheels. Lazlo was wearing a cheap tan suit and black tie. He was staking out a run down by the hour hotel from across the street. He had been sitting in that damn car for sixteen hours. Lazlo put down his coffee and fixed his Don Juan mustache in the rear view window. He dragged his fingers through his greasy black hair. He lit a cigarette. He wrote a poem about a girl he used to know in his notebook. Fingered your thigh, Why my passion so animal, Your pussy so belly, We lust love. Gimme Champagne. He ripped it out, crumpled it up and threw it in the back seat. "Fucking Deeana." There was a tapping on his window. Fuck the cops. He rolled down the window. The cop peered in. "Could you please put out your cigarette?" "No." "This is a two-hour parking spot." "I am a private investigator here on official business." "Can I see your license?" Lazlo dug around in his breast pocket. He pulled out his cigarette case and threw it on the passenger seat. He pulled out a card and handed it to the cop, blowing smoke in his face. He saw the congressman walking up the street. Fucking cops. The cop studied the license intently, "Not your driver's license, asshole." Hijo de puta. Lazlo reached back into his breast pocket and pulled out his investigator's license and handed it to the cop. The congressmen was at the steps. "Fuck. I guess you're off the hook this time. But watch your ass. This is our town." Hijo de la grand puta. Lazlo scrambled for his camera and caught a shot of the congressman's left foot entering the hotel. Fuck. Lazlo laid back into his head rest and puffed on his cigarette. A few moments later a light turned on in one of the rooms. Lazlo looked up, the blinds were drawn. It was the congressman and a woman dressed in a black flowing dress. He watched as she shot the congressman. Fuck. Lazlo grabbed his zapgun from the back seat and ran through the rain into the hotel and up the stairs, he counted the doors, and kicked down the last one in the hallway. Sitting, waiting, was the woman. The congressman laid dead by the window. "Ah, Mr. Cortazar, I've been expecting you." It was the woman who hired him. Fuck. No commission, then. She pulled her gun and fired at Lazlo and missed. He fired back and the woman disappeared in a puff of black smoke. She was suddenly on the other side of the room. "Sorry, didn't you know? I am the Phantom Lady. My father was one of the Pluto Shadow Men. Crazy right?" She fired and missed again. Lazlo jumped out the window onto the fire escape. "There's a death sentence on your head, Cortazar, courtesy of Lupimas! Get him boys!," and blue zap gun shots rained down on him. He dodged the shots and lept down to the street. One blast got him in the arm. Holding his wound, he fired back up at the roof. A few men fell, and the alleyway echoed with the sound of bones crushing on pavement. A black car pulled up. The window rolled down. "Get in, quick." Lazlo Cortazar jumped into the car. At the driver's seat was a man in a black suit, black vest, black shirt, black tie. They blasted off. "Lazlo Cortazar. My name is Terrence Thoth. I would like to hire your services." Fuck.
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CosmiCulture 13
Jungle Mamba or: I'm Goin' Ape!
The jungle outside New Medina was giant and full of strange creatures. During the terraforming of Venus, the poisonous air turned spontaneously and unexpectedly nutrient rich. It wash healthy for the flora. It was healthy for the animals. It was healthy for the humans. The jungle grew fecund. Saint Caetano fell into the jungle through a rip in the dimensional fold, followed by a mass of purple mist. He was wearing an off-white poncho with sun rays stiched in, pointing out from the neck. He was wearing tight grey bell bottoms and brown cowboy boots. He had traded in his horn-rimmed glasses for tortoise shell Ray Bans. He had a rope tied around his neck with a zapgun tied to the other end. He was sprawled out on the jungle floor. He stood up, dusted himself off and pulled out a compass. It was a very special compass, it pointed neither north nor south, but seemingly where ever it wanted. Caetano looked down at the compass and followed it into the jungle. On his walk he was followed by dog-sized lizards yapping at his feet. He threw some nuts to the ground, hoping to sedate them. The lizards ignored the nuts and continued to follow Caetano. He was watching the compass intently, paying no attention to his footing when he realized he could not move his feet or his legs. Quicksand! There was no convenient vine to pull himself out, he was sinking deeper. Above him he found a sturdy branch. He took his zapgun and threw it at the branch, the rope twisted around it. He climbed up the rope and swung himself to dry land. The lizards were left barking at him on the other side. He came to a stream and kneeled down for a drink of water, and splashed the heat off his face. He saw a blue deer drinking at the other side from the creek. It looked up at him. Studied him. Then ran off back to the jungle. He came to a clearing. Circular. In the center was a mass of leaves. He cleared the leaves to find a hole full of pikes. One poor soul had already succumbed to the deadly trap, left there to rot. From the jungle came a large were-cheetah. He was wearing a blue loin-cloth and holding a spear. "You may venture no further into my jungle" "Please, I have business further on, I will pass." The were-cheetah lunged at him. Spear drawn with a killing stroke. Caetano fumbled for his zapgun and at the last moment fired. The creature fell down at his feet. Dead. He continued on and came to ancient grown over ruins. The walls were covered with hieroglyphs of a strangely smiling face. He leaned against one of the walls, and let himself fall to the ground, flipping a switch. Arrows shot above his head and lodged themselves in a tree. In front of him was an arch. He saw through the arch a giant statue of the smiling face. He got up and walked over to the statue, kneeling in front of it. "Great and Divine Hereces, of the Galactic Gods, god of space time, please grace me with your presence." The statue turned bronze. It floated out towards Caetano followed by a silver smoke. "Oh am I the great and divine now? I always thought 'Hereces' was good enough." "Your divinity." "Yes, yes, my divinity. Hello Dom Caetano, or is it Saint Caetano now?" "To some." "What brings you to my temple." "I am sent on a mission for Moon Rex. He knows you are aiding your brother, the dread Lupimas. As a favor to him, he wishes you to cease these actions." "Oh yes, I do remember making a deal with him. You see I make deals often. It is sort of a hobby of mine. Once I made a deal with time and space. It turned out wonderfully." "So you will heed the favor of Moon Rex." "I have already long grown bored of aiding my brothernephew, anyway. Yes. Yes. I will heed Moon Rex. Let our deal be sealed! Now, what deal can I make with you?" "I am not here to make a deal." "No? I can't offer you great riches? I hear you humans are into that sort of thing." "I have no need." "Beautiful women?" "Too much trouble." "Great power?" "It's against my religion." "Hmm, you are a tricky one. But I have noticed something about you sentient creatures. There's a hole in you. It's right there. In the chest. But the truth of the matter is that it's not really a hole at all, it's just that part of you you left behind on your continual march towards becoming civilized, and to have to sit and face that hole is then the most heart-breaking of things because it means everything you desire, everything you hope for, everything you have come to believe is just a meaningless construction. All these desires, all these hopes, all these constructs are just to distract you from a very simple truth: the wish to return to that womb of pre-verbal language that you already utterly devastated." "So, would you return this lost part of me, or merely allow me to live comfortably with it." "Is there a difference, Dom Caetano?" "I would be interested in finding out." "Wonderful, it's a deal then!" "No wait--" Saint Caetano disappeared.
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Tales of the CosmiCulture 03
Mick Moog in the Pocket Dimension
Mick Moog, robot private in the Titanian AutoArmy, and member of the first wave of invasion to the giant Sars Asteroid (currently occupied by a rogue faction of Brazilian cosmoprivates), thought, in his last moments before landing, about his human girlfriend, Juanita James, and their last date together, on the Ferro Ferris Wheel in Fantastic ScienceLand. Had Moog been capable of emotion, he may have felt remorse for not cherishing their final moments together more. The Titanian BattleBarge moved into landing maneuvers. The robot privates aboard tensed, and readied their laser eye beams. Moog's party would never make it to surface, however, for it was at this point the Titanian BattleBarge was utterly destroyed by a Brazilian Hyper Blast, an intense ray that disrupts extra-dimensional forces for incredible localized destruction. Moog was, in an amazing feat of luck, thrown completely unharmed from the explosion, and fell through an array of pocket dimensions, until he came to rest, finally, in a vast white space, specked with dots of black. Moog's cold metal heart saved him from the paralyzing fear any human would have felt at being completely uprooted from his reality and placed anew. The robot soldier followed protocol exactly, and began to emit an S.O.S. distress signal from his head antenna. Unfortunately, due to specific physical forces within the pocket dimension, no radio signals could escape back to regular reality. Moog sat in emptiness waiting for a rescue team that would never arrive. Moog's distress signal was, however, eventually received. Moog stared unmoved as a giant silver cloud with a distinct bronze face appeared before him. The entity spoke to the robot through radio wave transmission, "Hello young robot, I received your signal, and came." "Thank you, sir. I am in distress! Please direct me to the nearest Titan MediPod!" "I am Hereces, god of SPACETIME FABRIC. I can direct you anywhere! I can do this and an infinitude of other things. All you need do is ask! But ask wisely, for I will grant you only one request." Moog would have responded immediately that he would like safe return to a Titan MediPod; however, he was spontaneously struck with a wave of free thought. He realized the countless options before him, and while safe return home was desirable, the fact that practically any possibility was now at his fingertips enticed the robot to think beyond his initial want. And his thoughts wandered to Juanita James, and their final date on the Ferro Ferris Wheel. How she wept on his shoulder, while he stared coldly forward. Moog had made a decision. "Sir, please, my only request is that I were made human." "So be it!" Hereces declared and disappeared in a great silver blast. A blue light then surrounded Moog, He felt his metal body warm as it changed to flesh and blood. The light ceased, and Mick Moog was human. An intense feeling of excitement turned instantly to intense pain, as the vacuum pressure of space bared down on Moog's new fragile human body. Moog's final thought before his head exploded was not of Juanita James or Fantastic ScienceLand. but simply on how much it all hurt.
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CosmiCulture 12
Baby, Now You’re Moving Way Too Fast
It was a fairly nice hotel room. There was a chair and desk with stationary. A holovision. A balcony with a sharp view. A bathroom and kitchenette. A landscape hung on the wall. A chest of drawers. Empty clay cups on the chest. A queen bed, with turquoise comforters, knocked to the floor. Snow-white sheets, twisted around on the bed, snow-white pillows pushed about everywhere. A blonde woman in blue jeans, buttoning up her white blouse over a seductive lace bra. A man in a cream silk kimono printed with green flowers, with an oval face and black hair form-fitting hair laying in the bed. "Really now, it's business. You've got to go. I'll call you later," Jack Ono was watching her get ready. "Sure," said the blonde with an American twang, " I'll be waiting by the phone." She grabbed her purse and walked out of the room passing Nico Ono on her way out. Nico wore an outrageously form-fitting black dress stitched with silver paisley and dragons. she had short bangs and long straight black hair. She sat down at the desk and lit a cigarette. "Sure, sis, come right in. It's not like I was in the middle of anything or anything here. By the way, this is a non-smoking room. I asked for smoking but," Jack sat up in the bed, and sighed, "hotel management just isn't what it used to be." Nico pulled on her cigarette and exhaled. "Has the mission been completed yet?" "'Oh, hello, brother how have you been. How's business? How's the girlfriend?' Would you like a glass of sake?" "No. The mission?" "Really Nico you're such a bore. All business, you can't even have a cup of sake with you poor younger brother. Oh well, more for me, then." "Have you finished the mission?" "Of course I haven't finished the mission. You wouldn't be here if I had finished the mission." "Queen Nusch demanded the mission to have been completed last week." "Oh, Queen Nusch, Queen of Crime. Really Nico you should pick your religions more scrupulously." "And you should take your religion more seriously." "Religion? Me? I would never join a religion that would have me as a member." "Do not mock the great Empire of Crime." "Oh, empire of crime, if we really have our empire of crime, who, then would be the criminals? The police? Ha! I'd like to see that, they can barely find their own heads half the time." Jack laughed to himself and took a sip of sake. "Okay, Jack, let me put it this way, if you do not complete the mission we--you don't get paid." Jack's face turned sullen. "Alright I was just having a bit of fun. I've never been here after all. Besides she's been caught. She's in jail. She's in a cell. There are guards. She's not going anywhere." Nico put her cigarette out on the desk. "Just get it done tonight." "Oh yes your most holiness. I so humbly apologize." But Nico had already left that room. It was night and the palace was dark. Secreted away in one of its southern wings was the jail. It was at garden level, which was nice in the summer, and it had only one entrance, a large gate, constantly guarded. Well, one official entrance. There was a grate that allowed part of the river, which ran through the palace, to run out. It was largely ignored because, well, no one had ever needed to open it before. Jack Ono was knee deep in the river, wearing a rather innapproaite grey suit with a black tie. He was getting soaked as he carefully picked the lock. Opened, Jack swam through, and climbed up behind the gate, behind the guards, and climbed up onto the floor and made a bit of a splashing sound. The sound alerted the guards who turned on him. He shot both of them with his silenced zapgun. Silently, they fell dead to the floor. Jack wandered through the halls of the prison, checking each cell. They were all empty. patrols of guards would come by and Jack would hide in the shadows. He really was trying to keep down his kill rate lately. It took some self-discipline. It was all about self- discipline. He almost walked by the cell, but took a few steps back and saw her sitting there, back to the hallway. He could see she was wearing a dirty-white t-shirt and black jeans. He leaned up against the cell bars. "Lynda Chance, I presume." She turned, revealing a mess of black hair. "It's Lydia, actually." "Lydia, excuse me. Hello, Lydia Chance, I am Jack Ono, I have been sent to kill you. Now, of course, I would never, by choice, kill a woman as beautiful as you, but it's really not up to me. I mean this all business, nothing personal, or anything." "And, I suppose that what that gun's for?" "Yes, well, I insist on using it for all my killings." "Well, at least I will leave a beautiful corpse." "True, true, and in the end, isn't that all that really matters? Oh, I am suppose to read you this note. It's rather crude, I am not sure its writer had the best grasp on the English language, that is. 'You dead. You dead now.' See? pretty bad. 'You betray us and you dead now. We kill you." It's signed 'XXOO THEM,' and look, they drew little swastikas around the signature." He showed the note to Lydia. "All the swastikas are facing the wrong way, though. What cut-ups." "Well, are you going to kill me, or just talk all day." "Yell, well, I suppose--" *thud* Jack ono fell unconscious to the ground. Standing behind him was a man in white jeans and a black and white striped t-shirt. "Billy!" Lydia yelled. "Hey babe."
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CosmiCulture 11
Archaeology Today
Marie Jarry laid on her bunk inside a shuttlecraft on its way to Mercury. She was staring up at the ceiling, hoping to get some sleep on the ride, but rather too excited to even properly close her eyes. She had a long magnificent brown mohawk. She wore a khaki canvas shirt with breast pockets, arms rolled up, brown leather pants, high black military boots, steel-toed. She was a grad student from Eliphaz University. She was one of several grad students from various esteemed academic institutions invited to join a mysterious dig on the smallest planet. The shuttle landed and Marie, carrying her one bag, exited. The giant sun was exceedingly bright, and Marie put on her chrome mirrored sunglasses. The heat was overwhelming, but thankfully her Argent Instant Conapt was air-conditioned. Her room was sparse. It was all white, with a desk, chair, and bed. The bed resembled an elongated half-egg. Marie unpacked and finally fell asleep, still clothed atop her bed only to awoke a few hours to the sound of camp revelry. She didn't bother to change, preferring instead a few cups of coffee and her morning cigarette. She walked out the Instant conapt, and down the hill to the digging site. She had to remove the black bandanna in her back pocket several times to wipe the sweat from her brow. From behind her mirrored shades, she watched hired men in hoods and robes with shovels and pick axes working the ground. She came eventually to a hole dug out like a giant grave. She climbed down a ladder into the hole. There she found Dr. Sylvia Iff. Marie was to be Sylvia's personal assistant for the remainder of the dig. Sylvia was currently dusting off a golden robot head with giant jeweled purple fly eyes. Sylvia noticed Marie and put her brush in her pocket. She stood up, dusted herself off, and walked over. "Marie, you've finally arrived." Sylvia Iff was wearing a blue short sleeved shirt and dark khakis. "Marie Jarry, let me introduce you to my colleagues." There were two other professors down in the hole, one, a woman, in a panama hat, green shirt and light khakis. She was digging in an even deeper hole. "This is Dr. Greta von Krupp, from the University of Saint Valentine, head of their Archaeology department." Leaning against the wall of the hole was an Arab man, his black hair was shiny and he were a white shirt and brown jeans. He was smoking. "Over here is Dr. Ali Devereaux of the Mohhamedan University New Medina. He is the curator of their reliquary, and currently taking a rather unprofessional smoke break on the dig site." He took the cigarette from his mouth, "Good morning, Mademoiselle Jarry." "Bonjour." "Now I know what we've been doing here is a bit of a secret, so let me show you what I am currently working on." They knelt down by the robot's head. "At some point, here on Mercury was an entire robot civilization, which should be amazing in and of itself, but look here, this artifact is currently estimated to be around 80 million years old. In Earth terms that would make it coeval with the Cretaceous period. This means this robot was walking around before humans. When dinosaurs roamed the Earth. Theoretically. There's still a lot we do not know about these robots or their civilization. Now, follow me." They walked just a few feet, Marie had to pull out her bandanna and wipe her brown again. They stopped at an empty spot near the center of the hole. "Right here, right below us," Marie said, "our seismo imagers say there is an artifact of interest just a few feet below the surface. You, Marie, will be digging it up for us. But, that can wait until tomorrow. Today, explore the camp, and please, try to stay hydrated, there's not much we can do about this heat, so close to the sun and all." Marie wandered the camp and found several sites like the one she had just been in. Many with metallic heads, some with torsos, arms, legs. Bits of circuitry were laid out on the ground, numbered. The camp was in constant activity unearthing and cataloging these strange finds. After a few hours, Marie succumbed to the heat and returned to her conapt. The next day, she found a pair of work gloves and trowel and headed back to the digging site. The Mercurial ground was quite hard, and it took Marie some time to make any progress at all. By then she was sunburned and dehydrated. She went to grab more water and overheard Sylvia and Dr. von Krupp arguing. "How could you let that child work on my find." "Now, Greta, I only meant to have her dig it up, spred out the labor." "Whatever is down there is mine, Sylvia!" "No calm down, the ownership of whatever is down there will be decided by a consortium of our various universities. You know that." Dr. von Krupp looked very angry then suddenly she smiled calmly. "Yes, of course, Sylvia, I think the heat must have got me." Marie had was left to work mostly on her own, and sick of the sun, began working in the slightly cooler night. The further down into the Earth she dug, the more furiously she worked, as if something was driving her ever closer to the long-buried artifact. One night she had finally uncovered and dusted off a silver dagger, with a lightning bolt connecting two circles on its hilt. In a trance she picked it up and stood. Her trance was broken by a noise behind her. She turned around, hiding the dagger behind her back. She found Greta von Krupp pointing a zapgun at her. "Miss Jarry, you will kindly hand me the dagger." "Um, what dagger." "The one behind your back." Marie revealed the dagger. "Oh, oui, this dagger." "Yes, that dagger. Hand it to me now, please. For the glory of GUESS." "Ummm, oh, non." Von Krupp shot, Marie ducked, and von Krupp lept at her and the pair struggled until a rather unfortunate sound of flesh ripping open. Marie was holding the dagger, plunged into Dr. von Krupp's stomach. Von Krupp was filled by a great electrical discharge. Marie watched and could see the doctor's skull glow green through her skin. She released the dagger. Von Krupp's body fell to the ground, a charred heap. Sylvia and Dr. Devereaux rushed to the scene and found Marie standing over the dead body of Dr. Greta von Krupp. She looked up at them. "It was an accident, I swear."
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CosmiCulture 10
The Pipes of Panic
Princess Gloria of Io awoke nude in her royal chambers. He were was the size of a small apartment. Its walls made of adobe, its ceiling vaulted, windows everywhere. There was a giant bed, large portraits of dead family members, hung tapestries, a giant paisley rug. Against the wall was a a large vanity with all sorts of perfumes, discarded jewelry and clothes strung about. Gloria stretched her body and pushed the covers off herself, she had small breasts and a golden fleece of public hair. Her short golden hair was curly and already perfect, her blue eyes glowed in the morning light. She turn over and kissed Amelia Argent, laying next to her on the shoulder. Amelia shrugged it off and remained asleep, pulling the covers further over herself. Gloria laid back in bed and started to caress herself. She began at her stomach and moved to her thighs, moving up with her fingertips and eventually found her way to her clitoris. She began rubbing, slowly at first, and moaning some. She sped up and rode her fingers to and shook in please to an amazing early morning orgasm. Half asleep again as her attendants arrived with tea service. The attendants dressed the princess as she enjoyed a cup of tea. Amelia slept through the whole affair. The attendants left, and Gloria was wearing a short-sleeved khaki explorer's suit. She woke up Amelia, pushing her long messy blonde hair out her eyes and kissing her on the cheek. Amelia pushed the covers off herself and got up, naked, to grab a cup of tea. She sat back down on the bed. Gloria began kissing her on the back and rubbing her thighs before moving her hands between Amelia's legs. When they were both finally dressed and had eaten, Gloria and Amelia left the palace to visit the streets of Horus City. They were accompanied, shadowed, more accurately, by one of the King's Agents, as was the practice. Horus City was a great desert city, lying right under Io's orbital solar magnifier, in culture and style somewhere between Santa Fe and Marrakesh. The city itself was surrounded by great adobe walls, with the grand domed palace at its center. Its city streets reaching outwards to the walls from there. Vendors were out on the streets selling everything from clothing to food to electronics. Gloria was at one vendor studying a black wrap, not exactly sure what to make of it. Amelia was dressed in her usual yellow peacoat and black disco pants. "Amelia, dear, come look at this wrap, I think it would look marvelous on you." "I already have clothes, Gloria." "You can't wear that old yellow peacoat everyday." "But it's my peacoat." Amelia was looking down the steet, disinterested in any of the clothing. She saw a woman in a white t-shirt and tight black jeans. Her hair was a black rat's nest, hair pointing out every which way. "Hey, I know her." "Who?" Amelia had already run off down the street. She yelled "Hey bitch!" and Lydia Chance turned around, a bit of pear in her mouth. She saw Amelia, dropped her pear, and ran away into the crowded streets. The princess watched the pursuit for a moment, then folded up the wrap and put it down, and, from the corner of her eye, saw a strange black shape disappear down an alley. Curious, she followed. She wandered down the alley for quite a bit. There were walls and windows and posters, but no outlet, until she came, finally, to its end, and found a large doorway surrounded by ancient human skulls. She entered slowly and quietly. "Comrades," she heard a voice from another room, "too long has Io suffered under the tyranny of the its monarchy. Today the word is revolution. We will take the streets, and tonight Horus City will burn!." Gloria peaked into the room. There was a group of black robots dressed in military green khakis and unbuttoned shirts. Stenciled on their chests was that most horrible of words, a word that spreads terror in the alleyways of every planet in the Solar System: THEM. The princess pulled her red royal zapgun out, and headed toward the room, and was pulled back suddenly and muffled. It was a man in a brown robe and dark hood, the King's Agent. He pulled his hood back to reveal a silver head, glowing turquoise eyes, a red antenna. "My name is Drake Moog, Princess Gloria, Agent off X-77," Drake whispered, "After the good news of your rescue, it was thought best you were kept out of danger's sway. I have been sent by HARPO to keep you safe." Gloria elbowed Drake in the stomach and turned round on him. "I don't need you or anyone keeping me safe, Mr. Moog. Now, in the other room are agents who wish harm to my father and my kingdom, and I am more than able to take care of them myself." She jumped into the room and fired, leaving a hole in the forehead of the leader. The others fired back. One shot Princess Gloria in the shoulder, and she fell limp to the ground. Drake fired into the room, and swung Gloria up over his shoulder. He ran quickly out and rolled a silver ball behind him. It rolled slowly to the center of the room. When it stopped, it exploded. Drake, with Gloria on his shoulder, was knocked to the ground outside the house. In the streets of Horus, Amelia Argent had wrestled Lydia Chance to the ground, and was tying her hands behind her back when she heard the explosion, and saw the grey smoke rise up over the city. She pulled Lydia off the ground and began marching her towards the palace.
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CosmiCulture 09
A Bullet for _______
Alfred Lee Pierce sat in a chair in a fancy uptown office in San Francisco. His hair was fresh cut. His face clean-shaved. He wore a well-tailored silver Italian suit, over a white shirt, no tie, buttoned only part the way up, revealing a wall of chest hair. He took out a comb and slicked his black greased hair out of his face. He had in his hand a vintage revolver. The chamber was opened, and he was spinning it, carelessly. Sitting behind the desk was a very Worried Mr. Taylor, CFO of Lee Pierce Incorporated. Alfie looked into Mr. Taylor's eyes. He was very pleased by Taylor's dread. "Now, I wonder, Ward, do you think you could tell me exactly who abandoned me out on that asteroid." "Na na na na na na na na na NO, I'm afraid not. None of us had known about your unfortunate encounter until we had already passed through the Belt." Alfie switched the chamber back into place and let the revolver hang limply in his hand, pointed in the general direction of Ward Taylor. "Well how flattering to know I was in you thoughts, Mr. Taylor. But, of course, I suppose you could be lying. But I have this amazing lie detecting device right here, would you believe it?" He held out the revolver in his hand, he held it and spun the chamber, then scooped it up into firing position. "No, no, please don't I have a wife, children, two mistresses who depend on me." "Oh, don't worry Ward," Alfie smiled a nightmare smile, his hair started to fall back into his face. "If you are telling the truth the revolver will have mercy." Alfrie pointed the revolver at Ward Taylor and pulled the trigger. *Click* Nothing. Ward Taylor sighed in relief. "Well, Ward, looks like your off the hook!" After the death of his parents, Alfred Lee Pierce became the sole heir of the Lee Pierce fortune. But, as a minor, sixteen, the handling of the fortune was left to the board of Lee Pierce Incorporated. On a routine trip to visit a mining site on the Saturnine Moon on the great ship Ethier. Alfred Lee Pierce was pulled from bed by a man in a black catsuit, masked. Alfie was stuffed into the escape pod. The man handed him a revolver. "There is one bullet," he said, "for any danger, or yourself," and Alfie was jettisoned from the ship. He landed on an asteroid with minimal atmosphere. He had to live mostly within the escape pod, but there was ice on the asteroid, to drink, and space moss, to eat, and he lived there, quite uncomfortably for five years, but he played with his revolver often and began fashioning bullets out of the Asteroid's mass. Bullets, he discovered during shooting practice, that exploded on impact. After five years, five fucking years, a twenty one year old Alfred Lee Pierce finally spotted a ship. It was an Argent Trade Ship. He could tell by the logo. He took aim with his revolver and fired. Through frictionless space, the bullet hit the spacecraft spot on, exploding a part of its hull. It scanned the area, and found Alfie's life readings. He was taken aboard the good ship Bators, greeted by Captain Giraud withe forgiveness for the hull explosion. Alfie was dropped at the city Chronoton, on Titan, at request. Back in civilization, Alfie had but one thought on his mind: revenge! It wasn't hard to get a hold of his ship's short manifest and a small nest egg from contacts within his own company, who he begged to conceal the secret of his return. Alfie moved slowly down the list, looking for the man who left him stranded for five years. He held on to the revolver and the one original bullet, believing, through a mix of chance and fate it would find its way back to its original owner, with vengeance. Alfie crossed Ward Taylor off his list and moved down to the next name: Terrence Thoth. That afternoon he bought a ticket for London.
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ISSUE TWO: QUIVERS DOWN THE BACKBONE
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CosmiCulture 08
The Mad Queen of Crime
The Mare Imbrium Municipal Hospital for the Criminally Insane was a rather ornate and Gothic building, by government standards. It stood high with buttresses, archs, colored windows, dark grey brick. It was a great looming structure on the outskirts of Mare Imbrium. In stark contrast to the baroque outside, the cell of Nusch Soupault was spartan, to be complimentary. There was a metal toilet with attached sink and a hard bed bolted to the wall. There were three concrete walls, and one of Invisi-Plastic, looking out into the hallway. Nusch's brown hair had gone wild during her time there. She wore a light blue loose-fitting full body suit, as do all inmates of the Hospital. In the cell next to her was the Mad Emperorness. Woman on one side man on the other. She/he specialized in in crimes themed on the union of the masculine and feminine. He/she had landed her/him/self in the Hospital due to a failed heist of the lunar jewel, legened to be forged in the sun aeons past. Orderlies in bottle green uniforms carried a chair, and placed it opposite Nusch's cell. A man followed in an expensive grey pinstripe suit. He was polishing his monocle as he sat down, and replaced it over his eye. "Guten Tag, Frau Soupault. My name is Herr Doktor Jorgen Ravenstein. I am a specialist, I have been flown in from London to speak with you specifically about your delusions." "Delusions? Delusions! Every fucking doctor here says they are delusion. I assure you doctor, they are not delusions. They are real. Horribly, beautifully, amazingly real. My husband had just left for work. I was cleaning up after breakfast. A man suddenly appeared in my kitchen. I was startled and dropped a plate, but his eyes met mine and rather then scream out, I was suddenly calmed. The man, well man, hardly, he was hirsuite, like a half transformed werewolf and had fangs to match. He wore a, what is it, black Victorian era suit with coattails. He had a frilled shirt clasped by a red jewel. I felt a total comfort in his presence, though I had a feeling, knew, he could and would have killed me at any moment. However, he turned out to be quite the gentleman. He apologized for his intrusion and introduced himself as Lupimas of the Galacatic Gods, and pointed off-handed to my broken plate. It was suddenly fixed and replaced on the table. Now really this should have all felt quite absurd, but something about his voice, his eyes, conveyed a truth that permeated to the bones. Well, a god in my own kitchen, it was quite the honor. He told me he was the god of crime, and I was to be his queen. Together we would spread a wave of crime to every corner of the Solar System. Mare Imbrium was to be the seat of his empire, and its birthplace. It was my divine task to ensure his empire was properly established before his coming." "I see, I see, Frau Soupault, and did you have anymore of the hallucinations, excuse me, visitations, from this..." Doktor Ravenstein ruffled through his notes, "Lupimas." "No, well not directly, though I always felt his guiding hand. I always knew which pawn shops and which jewelry stores to hit at which times to properly evade the police. One day I ran into a man quite by accident. He was an odd man in a white suit and bronze mask. Very short. He seemed to anticipate my needs and introduced me to the Legionaires de Terroir, who eagerly joined my now budding empire. A budding empire cut short by the miserable intervention of the bastard Lazlo Cortez, who ended me up here, put an end to my empire." "I see, I see." Doktor Ravenstein scribbled more notes, then closed his notebook. He polished his monocle and walked up to the Invisi-Plastic barrier. "Frau Soupault it is my professional opinion that you are completely sane and your experiences are in no way delusions, but absolutely describe real experiences. However you have one detail a bit backwards. This cell is exactly where you should be. Your first crimes were your conception. This cell your womb, and coming soon will be your birth. I could tell Administrator Walker right now you are completely sane and you would be released in a few days but that would hardly be in the spirit of Lupimas. No, I think I have a better plan, one that will have you released from this prison, tonight, in spectacular fashion. Stand tall and do not lose devine faith. I am sure we will meet again, Nusch, Queen of Crime. Very sure." Doktor Ravenstein motioned to the orderlies. They unlocked the door and Ravenstein departed. The orderlies came and removed the chair. Nusch laid on her hard bed and prayed to Lupimas. He did not answer. At least not directly. Not immediately. It was exactly 9:15PM Lunar Orbital Time when the concrete wall of Nusch's cell exploded. She strode elegantly through the dust and rubble and was met by a man and woman. "You majesty, I am Teddy Angel Face, this is Hot Leggs Holly. We come bearing gifts." He handed Nusch a white blouse, black chaps, black domino mask, a whip and a zapgun. She changed shamelessly in front of the two criminals, and put her brown hair up into a tight bun, and smiled, laughed, cackled. "Queen Nusch," said Hot legs, " What are your orders? What are our next steps." She looked back at the hospital. "First, I think, we must secure the palace for our empire of crime. Then, we have a loose end to tie up. Lazlo Cortazar must die!"
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Tales of the CosmiCulture 02
Billy Octave Ships Off
William Octave sat in the grey uniform of the American Kingdom Armed Forces in a nearly empty bar on Mars with a Sterling's and tonic in hand. Billy pulled smoke from his cigarette into his mouth, down to his lungs, unfolded his newspaper and exhaled. Through the smoke Bill saw a picture of Jupiter and below an article on the impending invasion of the Outer Moons. He put down his drink, reached into his pocket and fingered a silver ring with a very expensive translucent rock attached to it and stared up at the door and inhaled again on his electric cigarette. Billy was about half way through his gin and tonic when Bonnie Beeswax walked through the door dressed in grey plaid skirt, black tights, a yellow coat and a brown sweater. Her hair was about four inches longer than it was two years ago. She ran over to him and he stood up and she hugged him and her hair smelled the same as it always did and he touched the ring in his pocket and offered her a drink and went over to the bar and ordered a Sterling's and pineapple and sat back down and looked into her brown eyes and smiled. "So how've you been?" There were drinks and news of parents and old friends and other people's marriages and other people's children and old friends and new tattoos and new scars and old ones and philosophy and religion and work and pets and why Bill had joined the army and how lucky it was he was shipping out of Saint Valentine and how weird it was to be back and how happy she was to see him and she smiled and laughed and looked down. And it felt like old times. And Billy could feel the ring in his pocket without even touching it. It was midnight and the pair were mostly drunk and stumbled out of the bar and it was misting and Billy looked up at the sky and saw only clouds. "Sometimes the clouds can be awful beautiful." "When do you ship out?" "Wednesday." "Why don't we go for a midnight stroll" Bonnie looked up at him and Billy said "sure" and took off his coat and put it on Bonnie and they walked off into St. Valentine. They saw all the old places. "Remember that awful waiter?" "Remember when that dog almost bit you?" "Remember when I forgot my wallet and we had to run out on the check?" "Remember when I slipped and fell on the ice there?" 'Remember when I almost slipped on the ice here?" "Remember when I ripped my jacket on this railing?" "Remember holding hands down this street?" "Remember when I first kissed you in that doorway?" "Remember when you first tried to kiss me in that doorway?" "Remember when you got so sick from eating here and I had to stay up with you all night and missed my exam the next morning?" Bill and Bonnie were standing under an awning looking into the empty windows of a boarded up old restaurant. It started raining. They kept dry under the awning and kept looking into eachother's eyes and away and smiling and then not and "aren't you cold" and "a little" and Bill put his arms around Bonnie's waist and they shoved eachother's heads into eachother's necks and Bill smelled her hair and looked up at her and pushed it back and kissed her with both lips and then tongue and reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring between his forefinger and thumb and looked into her eyes and was about to speak but yawned instead and Bonnie stuck her finger in his mouth and he bit down on it by accident and she laughed.
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