yojimbo book 1 Chapter 5

Chapter 5

In dark of night

Jen woke up a few minutes later. He tried to move but found that he was tied up. He strained but it was no use -- he could not move. His head hurt like the dickens. Jen opened his eyes slowly then it all came back to him. He moaned. The side of his face still hurt. It was still dark -- it could have been three minutes or three hours. Jen couldn't tell.


One of the men turned. "Well, well, well…our personal enemy is waking up." The man with the scar over his eye came up. He stuck his face right in front of Jen’s.
"Who are you?"
"None of your concern." replied Jen.
"Jake -- check his bags -- see what he’s carrying." said the scarred man.
"Hey Tim, look at this!" Tim turned to face the boy.
"What is it, steve-- what have you found?" Evan had opened Jen's bag. He had taken out the pill box. Tim, interested, joined Evan. Tim picked up a pill. He examined it then dropped it back in to the box. Then Jake picked up the short sword and gasped.
"You have some pretty interesting weaponry -- I would not mind adding this sword to my belt." The man with the scar walked over.
"Jake. Give me the sword." The man reluctantly relinquished the sword. The man with the scar took hold of the hilt and drew it. His eyes opened wide. He ran to Jen, took the sword to Jen's neck.
"Where did you get this -- it's a family heirloom?"
"What of it? said Jen.
Tim glowered, saying, "This sword was the sword of a friend and nothing besides murder would take that sword from her." Tim threw the sword back at Jake who neatly caught it.

Tim walked away.
"You sleep tight boy. You might need that in the morning." said Jake, as he walked away. Jen sat there trying to think what to do. He could not bite through the ropes nor could he wriggle free. The bonds were too tight. He was on rather lumpy ground. His left butt cheek hurt--he moved over a little. He still had the lump in the same place. His hands were behind his back. He reached under him. The ground was flat. He realized that he still had his wallet in his back pocket. Hope returned to Jen. "If I still have that, then ---"

A few minutes later the man with the tattoo walked up with a bowl of food and was about to hand it to Jen’s tied hands when Jen kicked the bowl up in to his face. The hot stew splashed onto his face. The man howled in more surprise than pain.
Jen jumped to his feet, took the man's gun out of his holster and put an arm around his neck--and put the blaster against the man’s head. The other men drew their guns and trained them on Jen. Jen used the man with the tattoo as a shield. Jen yelled, "Don't shout or this boy dies -- put my coat and the rest of my items back in the bag and bring them to me . Stand down! Lower your weapons!"
They looked over at Tim, who had lowered his weapon, and nodded to the men. One by one, the men reluctantly put their guns back into their holsters.
"Bring him his stuff," said Tim. One man came towards Jen, who brought the gun to bear at the man. Jen yelled "Slowly!" The man slowed down. When he was within ten feet, Jen told him to stop.
The guy stopped, put the items down on the ground then walked backwards slowly. Jen pushed his captive forward. As soon as he was close enough to grab his bag, Jen kicked his captive forward into the group, knocking many of them over. Jen ran for the woods as fast as he could. He ran through and in such a complex track pattern that it should have lost anybody who would have followed him.
Jen slowed down and panted, hands on knees. He heard a voice above him. The man with the scar was lying on a branch of the tree.
"You really think you can escape me," the man said.
"If I can't escape you, then I guess I'll just have to fight my way out." Jen drew his sword and readied himself for a fight. He’d defend himself with his air gun if he had to.
The man laughed and dropped to the ground, drawing his sword as he stood. He ignited his laser sword, a calm green fire. "You really want to fight me?"
"I don't want to but what I want to do is—I go my way, you go yours. If not, I tell you I will defend myself against anybody."
"What's your name, boy?
" Je…Angelus."
"Well…Angelus -- I would put that sword away."
"Not going to happen."
"Very well." And with that word, Jen started to walk away--sword at the ready. The man with the scar walked toward Jen.
Jen stopped moving and prepared to attack. The man with the scar kept moving. Jen leapt forward and as quick as lighting brought the sword down toward the man's head. He sidestepped the attack and blocked it with a lazy flick of the wrist. The sword glanced off so Jen used the momentum to bring the blade around and sliced right through a lock of hair. The man had crouched and swung up grabbing the branch above his head and swung, hitting Jen fully in the chest. Jen's sword flew up into the air and the man with the scar neatly caught it…
…and brought it down on Jen’s shoulder then brought the light blade down, almost touching his shoulder for ten seconds.
"So you give up?"
Jen answered him by rolling backward--kicking his blade up into the man's face making him off balance then kicked his legs out from under him. Jen grabbed his sword and brought it down close to the man's neck. "Are you going to kill me?"
Jen lifted the sword then brought it down and knocked the guy out cold with the hilt. Jen sheathed his sword then reached through his pockets and found his wallet. In it was a photo--Jen looked closer and stuffed it in his pocket. In that pocket was the piece of paper that he saw in the pub.
it looked like a job. 370, Weihnachtliche Einkaufsstrasse, 307
Jen stuffed the paper in his pocket. The man's name was Tim O'Hara. "So he’s a Scot, ha -- I wouldn’t have known. “Well, Tim O'Hara, you'll wake up in a couple of hours.” As an afterthought, he took a marker from his pack and wrote MURDERED on O’Hara’s hand and forehead and stuck a piece of paper in the man's coat…then walked away, sneaking back to the camp to get back his bike.
Jen got to the bike, but there were some of Tim's guys around the bike. Jen took his gun out of his side holster, flicked the safety off and took aim and then holstered his gun.
Then the man with the tattoo walked in and called the men away. Jen looked around and ran for the speeder. He hopped aboard and rode back to the town he’d visited earlier. He got back and rented a room with the little paper money he had left. He checked the news and the interplanetary waves and checked the name Tim O’Hara. The wave bounced back as” Born June 4th, 2138 on the moon Titan. Died May 15, 2157 on Titan in the War of Independence. Last Stand on Titan. Jen thought this over while he drifted off to sleep.

Ch 4 In the Dark of Night

Yojimbo Sharp Teeth
Book 1
Ch 4 In the Dark of Night
Halfway there, Jen had to stop and get some sleep--so he stopped by a roadside house and walked up to the front gate. He spoke into the intercom on the gate. He quickly straightened his collar and ran his fingers through his hair. A women's voice came through the ‘com and asked, and asked, "What do you want?"
"I'm a weary traveler looking for a place to sleep. An area in your field would suffice." A camera turned from its normal position on the driveway and homed in on Jen. "I have money. Not much, but I can pay you for your troubles." The voice said, "What's your name?"
"Jen Gravel." The buzzer sounded and the gate opened. Jen walked in and down. Two men came out, each wearing a sidearm. One had out, at a ready position, a modified Blackhawk laser blaster and the other carried a regular factory blaster, holstered. One of the men walked up and asked, "What weaponry do you carry?"
"Well, I have this" he pulled out his rifle and held it out. "I also have a custom revolver on my side" With this, he put his hand down to take the gun out of his holster. The man in the back cocked his gun. Jen lifted his hands away from his seven shooter and turned to look at the man in front of him. "Left hand, please."
Jen took his left hand and slowly put it towards his gun, took it out and handed it to him. The man examined the gun.
"It’s like a flintlock but has seven chambers…where did you get this?"
"I got it from my godfather." The man handed it back to Jen. "I also have a sword."
"What's that?" He interrupted. The man pointed to the box that his father gave him. Jen picked up the box and opened it. The man looked inside. Jen took out a little gold leaf covered pellet with
a chop that read T.G.
with the sign of the triple moon engraved into it. The man recognized it. "This is a local med right?" Endoforal right?" he walked back to his mate and handed it to him for inspection. "Yup its Endoforal." He handed back "Well, the salesmen's pack confirms who you are."
"Well, you know who I am, but I'd like to who I'm speaking to?"
"I'm James and this kid behind me is Randy. You are free to come in and join us for supper." The man in the back put his gun back in his holster. He started to go back inside the house. Jen walked his speeder into the courtyard to put it by the garage then walked in the house.
After a good dinner, the family sat around and talked. The family consisted of three brothers- James, and Randy and one baby Niki who assured Jen that he was five and a half--not five, not six--but five and a half.
There were two identical twin sisters, Kala and Selena. Jen and the twins stayed up for a while talking about local gossip and whatnot. Jen found out that they may be the same age but they definitely thought different thoughts. Their interests were not even close.
Jen got a good night’s sleep. He awoke refreshed and rejuvenated. After a good breakfast, James asked Jen for a shooting match before he left. Jen happily accepted. Jen thought that this would be a good opportunity to break in the pistol at his side. He had no reason to use it back home. The gun was constructed as a pump action gun, like a BB gun. The difference was that this gun used bullets and all you needed is to take a piece of metal or plastic, melt it and put it in a mold. You have a bullet as long as you have a material to make ammo. Air is what you use for propellant. When the air in the handle gets low you pump the bellows in the handle. He the snapped on the holster belt and set the gun in the holster, then walked out to the back field.
On a tree were two white targets. The two men walked out of the house, James brandishing a good-sized blaster pistol and Jen with his revolver. Jen and James took aim. The target was about thirty feet off. James shot thrice and hit the target between the red and the white. "Well, can you beat that?,” asked James.
Jen smiled. "What kind of shot do you think I am?" With this, he took aim. A pop issued from his air pistol. All three shots hit the red dot.
James smiled and said, "Damn! Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
"Well, I had a lot of time to practice--I had to keep watch over the chickens. That year we had a big problem with vulture stoats… so you get the picture. I also learned to not trust the sight on my rifle, so I learned to aim by eye. At first it didn't improve my shot, but over time I got better."
"Say, I'll try that." James then took and fired using the method Jen suggested. The shot went to the middle of the target.
"Not bad, but I think that you were just playing when you missed those three first shots", said Jen.
"Maybe just a little bit", said James.

"I'd better be on my way. Thank you for your hospitality."
"Jen, I hope to see you again." Jen got on to his speeder and rode out.
It was a long ride. Jen thought, "It's amazing how tired doing nothing can make you."
Jen rode in to baile atha cliath--Dublin City. Whoever named this city sure wanted to have a little Ireland here. He stopped in the tavern side for some lunch. He went up to the bar and ordered a drink. They had what looked like a chimp/human on an upright piano who played like he had three hands. The song was I think called “The Drunkard Song'. You probably know it from somewhere. Jen had a superb rather thick turkey pub sandwich. Halfway through the sandwich and a rather exquisite pint -- in fact the best pint he had ever remembered having--Jen laid back in his chair and thought of his life. He thought of Moms, his biological mom Nissa…he had been living with Serrana, his foster mom, for the last ten years. The way Nissa left was that a little argument broke out between her and the people she was living with, so she left for another guy -- who didn't want children. After a month of bouncing around among family and friends, Serrana entered his life. She was quite a nice Moms, always fun. Serrana was an excellent robot maker except for J. Bot. Strangely neither Serrana nor Jen could fix him. Jen upgraded everything -- the memory, the logic circuits, the reusable memory, everything. Moms even had him wiped to see if that would help. Jen loved that robot, though. One of his earliest memories was being in J-bot's arms, as his quirky memory had, one day, inspired him to return to his maker, and that meant J-bot taking Jen with him.
Jenny. Man, he had fun with Jenny. She could be a brat a lot of the time but she was a good cook. She always was good in school, she loved astrogation--she would be a good ship pilot. Grams -- she was a daughter of one of the first settlers on Io-- great with electronics but whenever Jen asked for her to help fixing any electronics especially J.Bot she always said, "If you want your toy in good condition then learn the skills to fix it when it gets broken."
Jen thought about the times things that he had worked on building electronics with Grams. He once built a bio electronic hybrid core computer with Grams. After he was done building, it became a the household computer.
Dads was a mechanic. He liked to work on anything with gears. Whenever someone said, "Oh my God, how did you do this?" He replied, "Machines have workings and they tell me what's wrong and what's right." Jen was sorry to have lost his family. To be honest, it may have happened just a little sooner then he had expected.
Then Jen noticed two of the men sitting at the bar. Jen thought to himself, Something's familiar about them then he got it. They were the two men from the fire last night, but this time the two seemed to have a bunch of buddies with them. Jen sat watching them slowly eating his food. Jen was interested in what the two were doing there. More people came and left. The men were nursing their drinks and two women came in. One sat down at a booth near the back. The other woman went up to the bar to order drinks. Jen noticed that she slipped a piece of paper into the scarred mans coat pocket. She paid for the drinks. She then slipped back to her table.
The man casually put a hand into his pocket and carefully pulled the folded up piece of paper out, glanced at it then slipped it over to his tattooed companion who read it, growled and slipped it back to the scarred man. He put it back in his pocket, paid for his drinks and left his whole group behind him. Jen finished his food then asked the barkeep, "Who were those guys?" The bartender paused wiping the table and said, "He's…h'mmm, I've never seen him in my life. Why?" Jen replied, "No reason, just wondering."
Jen paid for his food and left for the local store for provisions. He picked up some vulture-stoat meet plus seasonings and anything else he might need for the next week. He sold one-tenth of his pills…the store owner drove a hard bargain, but in the end they both left happy (he sold it at two- thirds the market price). He got hard cash, not those paper slips. The slips could go down in value. He disliked Empire currency--he liked hard gold and silver coins. For the rest of the day, he toured the town and he stopped by a small roadside stand. The women behind the stand was selling homemade food. He bought a pound of fudge and put most of it in his pack.
It was getting late. He might as well move along and try to sleep at a house along the road. Jen didn't like cities--too much metal or stone marble. baile atha cliath may not have been a mammoth city, but they were often to bright for Jen to sleep in. If you found a place before it was dark,
you would have wardens to deal with.
Later, when the sun was falling in the west, Jen stopped by the roadside and started a fire. He pulled out his sleeping bag and threw some vulturestoat in a heating pan. As it cooked, he cleaned and loaded his rifle. Soon, the meat was ready. Jen took the small knife from the hilt of his sword and started to eat…but he heard a twig snap behind him. He swiped his leg out behind him an tripped someone. He leapt for his pack and grabbed the air pistol in a blink of en eye. He was up on his feet, gun in hand. He aimed it at the man behind him--practically up his nose. It was the man with the tattooed face.
“What do you want with me?” Jen said through clenched teeth.
"You know very well you are one of those gorram Empires trying to frame us for the killing of innocent people!"
"what, I have no elegance to empire"
Jen said
The man replied "Your lies will not save you, I'm not a…" In the reflection of his eye,
he saw quick movement and danged the butt of a rifle that came toward his head

clipped his shoulder and the next hit him right in the face. The sun went nova.

ch3 New Beginning

ch 3
Yojimbo sharp teeth
Part #3
A New Beginning
When Jen woke up four hours later, his head didn't hurt as bad--and his arm was in a splint. J. Bot the service robot walked in on his stout metal legs, bringing in a tray with food. He said in his slightly human voice, "Good afternoon Jen. Are you feeling better?"
"Yes" Jen sat up slowly. A sharp pain shot through his back. Jen snapped back and hit his head on the bed’s backboard.
J. Bot said, "Jen, you have obtained severe mechanical damage. I would not suggest that you make it more severe, Jen. I would not want you to be further damaged."
Jen replied, "A little late for that. J. Bot, why are you talking so strangely?”
The robot answered, “I obtained damage from the heat. I was not built for extreme heat. I am operating on backup until I can repair myself."
Then he remembered "J. Bot? Are the kids ok?"
"Pardon?" said J. Bot.

Jen thought that they needed to upgrade his backup programming.
"J. Bot, what are their active states? Are they operative?"
"Jen, I'm not a little tin dog..! My word processing may be down—but not my logic circuits. "Yes, they're well." said J. Bot.
"Report," said Jen.
"They have a bad case of smoke-lung and a few broken bones. Falling on them could not have helped but all in all they are O.K." said J. Bot.
"J. Bot, what happened?"
"You pressed the emergency call button on your watch, Jen."
"If I erred in some way, I can bring you back Jen." said J. Bot.
"Yes, like I need to be burned alive..!" snapped Jen.
J. Bot looked at Jen uneasily. "It was bad enough to go in for you the first time. The thought that you want me to take you back is very upsetting. I don't want to even think about doing it again."
Jen said, "No J. Bot. I was being sarcastic…understand?"
"It’s difficult for me to understand." said J. Bot

"It’s like…an idiom. A single phrase that can be have various meanings," said Jen.
"I still don't understand, Jen" said J. Bot.
"I did not think you would." In the back of Jen’s mind ,he made a note to upgrade his childhood toy. J. Bot had become so much more to him – some robots did exceed their original uses.
After Jen had some lunch, he got out of bed and put on some new clothes--throwing the old ones into the incinerator. They were too ripped-up to bother fixing them. He walked in to the living room. Moms was on her pocket computer, reading a book on the Old Earth. "Moms, J. Bot's got that annoying C3PO glitch again. Honestly, I've tried to get that fixed but it’s no use." Moms looked up from her book. "Well, Jen…what can I say? He has “layers”--he is some of my work."
Grandma was also on one of her old laptops—one of those old clunkers that only held about 2gb of reusable memory and about 120 gigs of memory.
"Grams, why do you still play with these old computers?" asked Jen.
"Well, Jen" she replied, barely looking up from her computer, "Way back when I was a little girl, we only had two 2006 laptops for six whole months." Jenny lifted her head from the game she was playing.
"The last time you said it was two years and it was one ansible pod computer plus one computer game, the Fighting Fetus 5000" Grandmom's eyes glazed over at the memory. "Oh yes -- the times I'd be playing that the game where you'd fight off the people that wanted to abort you then crash anti-birth rallies." She sighed. "All the times I hacked, cheated -- the game was wacky fun."

With an annoyed expression said "Hey! Who's telling this lie?"
"Grams, where is Dads?"
"He's out on the west side, collecting wood for the cool cellar." Jen started to walk out the out the door to the outside then Moms called out. "Jen, you've just spent four hours in bed out cold and you have a broken arm -- you are in no condition to go out and lift heavy objects."
Jen turned. "Moms, you know that I don't like being lazy and I have a lot to do before this weekend--so I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine." Moms looked at him with an expression of disdain "I'm OK, Moms." Said Jen
"Moms, I won't hurt myself. Scouts honor."
As he held up his hand in the scout position, Moms replied, "Jen,you were never a scout and you know it! Do as you will but don't come crying to me if you crack your head open." "Moms, you always wore the best at the graphic details."
"Who said I was joking?" came the reply.
Jen laughed as he walked out the door. In the background, he heard "My son, the hero!"
Jen walked to the shed to put on his logging gear -- a small jump suit that was enabled the wearer to carry up to ten times what he could normally haul. It was invented in 2006 by Prof. Yoshiyuki Sankai—initially, sold to the physically impaired. Back then, one of these exo-suits would cost $20,000 or 2,000,000 yen—over time, there were many upgrades to the suits, but the general idea remained the same.

When Jen got to the forest on the east side of the property, he saw Dads using the laser saw to cut down trees. The tree fell with a crash. Dads quickly limbed the tree and was about to pick it up when he saw Jen. Dads yelled out, "What are you doing here Jen?" Jen replied, as he continued toward Dads "I'm just out here to give a hand."
Dads face turned dark. "You should be in bed! How would your mother feel if I came back and had to say you cracked your head open?"
Jen looked over with a wry grin, "She told me not to come running, so I think I'm safe." said Jen.
"Did she really? Remind me to comment on her sense of humor."
"I will." said Jen.
"Well, I guess since you’re out here, you might as well give me a hand."
Jen started to pick up the tree and set it on the hover tractor.
"So how are the kids, Jen?"
"They’re doing OK. J. Bot says they should be right as rain soon."
"Good, I saw how badly they were hurt. I think you might have hurt them when you fell. I think that the boy has a broken rib."
"Dads, no matter how bad I could have hurt them, they only would have been hurt more by the fire."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that but that doesn’t make it much better."
Jen walked up to the driver’s side seat and sat down as Dads got in on the passenger side. Jen turned and said, "Dads, if they got hurt all that bad I will get very choked up," and with a pouting lip he said, "Honestly, there could be tears."
Dads groaned and rolled his eyes as they rode back to the house. They made many trips back and forth from the forest to the cellar. They did this until it began to get dark. Back at the house, things were pretty good. Jenny had put out some food from the chest freezer and heated it up. It was some of the surplus produce from last year. The first year they introduced bees to the farm, they were up to their ears in tomatoes.
About three thousand pounds of tomatoes…give or take a few.
So this should be one of the last tomato packs…I hope. As they say, everything in moderation--including moderation.
Jen walked into the living room and heard Moms say. "Did you crack your head open?" "No, Moms--still relatively intact." He heard out of the corner of his ear. "Oh, darn it." It sounded like Jenny.
Jen put the exosuit in the closet and yelled out. "Why shouldn’t I be, Jenny?"
"Of course, then I will get all the inheritance." Moms interrupted and said. "Honey, it doesn't work that way." Jen exclaimed, "Well, that explains all the hemlock that seemed to be switched for parsley in my salad for all these years."

"Actually, that was my decision, Jen."
This last came from Grandmom. Jen walked to the kitchen table and sat down and preset a button on the table. The placemat turned into a small screen. It popped up with his email and got the news for the day.
He pushed another button. The screen reverted to its former status. Jen got up and went over to the fridge. He got a glass of tea, picked up a bowl of stew and went back to his set. He started to eat, his long hair almost dripping into his bowl. Then, the two kids from the house came into the room, dressed in Jen’s old clothes.
They sat down. Jenny brought two bowls out for them and they ate ravenously.
Jen lifted his head to see how the two were doing. Jen saw that they were a little bruised but the cell regenerator had patched up most of their hurts. He felt satisfied and took a piece of bread from the basket in the middle of the table, saying "Hi." The boy looked up, about to return his greeting then stopped, stared then started to cry.
The girl looked up at her brother, perplexed. As she traced his gaze, terror raked her face.
She grabbed her brother and stared in terror at Jen.

Jen lifted a hand as if he was about to say something when they began to cry in unison. Moms rushed into the room and tried to comfort the kids. Jen decided it was time to have dinner somewhere else and walked out to the porch. It was some time before Jen stopped hearing the wails from the house.


Later, Moms came out with a long wrapped bundle under her arm. She sat down and looked at Jen. With heavy sadness she said, "I have a gift for you. It’s something that your real mom left with us as payment to look after you. I want you to have it."

Moms handed the bundle to Jen. Jen pulled the cord then unwound the strips of fabric. When all the fabric was removed, it revealed a short sword. He pulled it from the bundle, then stopped. He saw a pommel in the likeness of a dragon’s head, laid into a long black leather hilt, and a wrapped handle which led to a simple carved crossbar.

Jen drew the sword from its scabbard and glanced at its perilous beauty, which led into a thin two edged spring steel core light steel resistant edge. A deep fouler ran down each side, the length of the blade. It had a few dents, chips and laser-blade scorch marks in the blade. The sword’s sheath was a simple black leather with a Browne makeshift frog. The scabbard had a knife inlaid into the side of the sheath--he wouldn’t have known it was there if he hadn’t pulled back the frog.

The hilt of the knife was as black as the sheath. It wasn't a knife for fighting but more of a knife for field-dressing and eating a vulturestoat—something you wouldn’t do with your sword. But all in all, a beautiful blade. Jen looked at it in astonishment

"My God," said Jen, "Moms, what happened?"

"What!" Moms replied, all indignant. "Do I need a reason to give a gift to my son?"

Jen raised an eye to Moms’ side as he dipped her head. "I don't want to say this, but you can’t stay here." She paused. "I'm sorry, Jen."

"Why, Moms?"

"Jen…the kids are scared of you. According to them, you killed their parents."

“I didn't, Moms."
"I know, but they won't believe …I'm sorry Jen." Moms stood up. As she walked to the door, she paused and looked back at Jen--then walked in.

Jen walked up to his room and started packing…then the wave hit him. Tears came to his eyes and he came down on one knee. He started to cry--Dads heard, and came in.

"Jen, what’s wrong?"

"Just regretting what I said."

Dads sunk down to be at eye level with Jen "That if anything happened, there could be tears. Well, here they are." Jen then laughed at his ineptness.

"Well Jen, I understand. I had to leave my parents." Jen looked up into Dads’ eyes and he relented. "Well, maybe I didn't…but I understand what you are going through. I want to help you, so I have this." Dads offered a box, and Jen opened it.

Jen looked inside. "Jen, this is something that you might need for this day". Jen closed the box and stuffed it into his bag. "Thank you, Dads." Jen slung his bag on his back and picked up his rifle—it had been rescued from the fire, and he was glad that it had not been consumed. He had worked two weeks to finish the job on that rifle.

Jen walked out of his room. "Jen, I have another gift for you," said Dad as they walked outside of the house, Dad gestured to a hoverbike. Jen smiled. Moms came over and hugged him and kissed him on the forehead.

Jen asked, "Isn't Jenny going to bid me farewell?"

"Jenny is interested in the kids."

"Typical," Jen said, laughing slightly. Moms looked into Jen’s face as if to say “take good care of yourself”. Jen smiled with fake enthusiasm and walked to the bike


Jen climbed aboard and was about to start it—but when he put the key in the ignition, the bike didn't kick over. He tried again—and examined the key. Jen got off the bike and walked over to Dads…who gave him the right key for the bike. Jen thought, “So much for a dramatic exit.”

Jen got back on the bike and rode out past the field…past the house, blackened and dead. Jen pulled over to the side of the rode to think about what had happened that day. He looked at the house, mounted his bike and rode away. The tears began to flow down his cheeks as he rode on into the night, wishing this day to end…wishing the day had ended better.

ch2 Brave New World

Chapter 2 Brave New World Fourteen years after the war of independence. Io, the 5th closest moon to Jupiter. It’s a moon of volcanoes. Io's surface is covered with nonvolcanic mountains and numerous lakes of molten sulfur…or I should say, used to be. In a dry clearing surrounded by planted fields, there is a moderately big house with metal mirror sides. The morning sun glances down on it giving cheap power for the household. There is a women on the porch sitting on a stool over a bowl of potatoes and listening to a pocket music player. "Jen!…Jen! Sticklebats! Where is that boy?" This came from Jen's Godmom. She was using a small knife to remove the skin and cut off black rot spots, throwing the peeled potatoes into a metal bowl by her side. Jen swung out the door. " Here, Moms." said Jen, "what do you need?" "Jen would you please throw these peels to the goats and check on Jenny?" She went back to peeling. Jen poured the peels into a plastic bucket. "Oh -- and Jen, please check on the animals for me see if Jenny needs any help?" "Sure, Moms." Jen picked up his rifle then went out down the steps and across the field to the barn. There was a light breeze. Birds were flying through the air upon their daily duty. While walking, Jen spied something up in the sky. He stopped and looked up. "It's too big to be a green-tailed hawk." Thought Jen. It turned in the sky and then Jen recognized it. "Wind viper." The equivalent of a dragon. There are stories that some can breathe fire. Jen thought that these were merely stories like the stories of Champy back earthside. These animals came in many colors. This one was a dark blue. They have no legs but wings with sharp talons. It’s said their wingspan is from six feet to ten feet. They're five to seven feet in length. People have tried to catch them but have never been successful--not even a dead one. The viper circled around the fields. Two small birds flew out of a tree to engage this attacker. The viper ducked and flew off. Jen traveled the rest of the way to the barn. Jen opened the latch on the electric fence to the paddock and walked down the hill to the feeding trough. He dumped the skins in the trough. A goat came walking up; she sniffed the skins. The goat by the door snorted loudly. It was Esau, a full sized pigmy goat about knee height. He lived disgustingly. Jen winced as he thought of the details. Rachel, a one-horned African tree-climbing goat came up and sniffed the trough. She turned and walked up to Jen, sniffing him and rubbing her head on his side. Jen looked down and shook his head and smiled. "Sorry, Rachel old girl. You’ve already had all the treats for today," he said, scratching her in the good place right behind the ears. Jenny walked up carrying a bunch of brambles and threw them over the fence . Then Jenny jumped over the fence. She came in and scratched Rachel behind the ears. Rachel stretched her neck in happiness. "Yes, I'm the good person in the family. I give you treats unlike evil Jen here." Jen glared " Hey! You jumped the fence." Jenny looked at Jen. "Yes -- what of it?" "Don't jump the fence," exclaimed Jen. "If you keep doing that these goats will start." "Bite Me!" Jenny stuck her tongue out at Jen and blew a raspberry. Jen’s eyes narrowed, Esau glanced out of the barn and made a beeline for Jenny. She sidestepped him easily. Esau quickly screeched to a stop, turned around, lowered his head. The demon in him came out glaring. He began to chase Jenny around the pen. Jenny glanced at Jen with a terrified expression. She cried, "Jen, help me!" He looked at Esau and replied leaning on the side of the barn. "I'm not stepping in -- that goat is hostility personified." "Besides," Jen grinned, "You called me evil." Jen turned back to watch the two. "But I’ll say one thing, though…Best of luck." Jenny growled as she did a swimmer’s turn to evade Esau. She grabbed a stick from the pile then turned to face Esau. She soundly wrapped him on his nose. Esau skidded to a stop. He walked back to the barn then when he was at the door looked back as if to say, Well, I gotta try sometimes. Jen laughed hysterically. Jen began to walk back to the house. Jenny gave Jen the stare of death. Jen heard a grunt and a snort. Jenny yelled and started to swear very loudly while sidestepping Esau…who flew past and straight into the side panel of the chicken coop. The noise of disturbed chickens filled the air. Jen threw some bread to the chickens and made a mental note to fix the side panel of the chicken coop within the week. He was going to be leaving. Since the end of the war of independence, after being conquered by the empire, all men must serve four years in the empire's Army. The army would not take Jen because he would lie low. Jen had decided he would camp out in the forest and go missing. He didn't want to, but it was his only alternative to service. While he walked back to the house, he heard men talking in the tall cornfields. He cocked his rifle and snuck through the corn stocks carefully pulling then back. He spied two men eating corn from the family field. One man had black hair and black symbols tattooed on his face, with a long black ponytail down his back. The other had a patched and stained dark green leather trenchcoat. It reminded Jen of stagnant water. The man had a few weeks of beard stubble. He wore a long black glove on his right hand and he had a deep scar that went from the bottom of his cheek through his eyebrow. He had long red hair. There were cuts and pieces missing from his trench. He held a modified G.R. 23 combat rifle. His eyes bore into Jen like he could read his mind. Jen closed his eyes "He could not have seen me…they most likely would have shot me." Jen overheard the man with the tattoo say, "I think I heard something." Jen tried to back up slowly but he rustled the bushes. The man with the scar took a knife from his belt then threw it. A shriek issued from the bushes.The man with the scar got up. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He took the knife from the corpse and picked up the vulturestoat. A hairy lizard, both mammal and reptile, it had the beak of a duck and the teeth of a Tasmanian devil. His tattooed companion said with distain on his face. "Listen, you killed it--you eat it. I'm tired of vulturestoat." In the confusion, Jen got away back to the house. "Moms, there are two guys in outer fields eating our corn." "Well Jen, they probably need it more then we do if they would go so low as to steal food." "There is plenty and this is a good year. I wouldn’t worry about it." Jen’s godfather came from inside the house with a tool in each hand "Jen, do you have a minute?" he asked. Jen put a boot up on the porch and retied it. "Sure." "Jen, the harvester is acting up. Would you please work on it for me? I'd do it myself, but I still have things to do." "Fine Dads, let me get the tool chest and I will be on my way." Jen went to the field where the harvester was sitting and popped open the engine hatch. He climbed in, picked up the sonic screwdriver and got to work checking the electronics. The energy coupling seemed to need replacing. Jen tried to pull it from the socket, but it wouldn't budge. He rolled up his sleeves and took hold. Then with a great effort he heaved and pulled it from its socket. Sparks flew. He examined it for a second, then simply rolled his eyes and thru it over his shoulder. When it hit the ground outside, an ear shattering crash sounded. Then he popped his head out and was surprised to see flames coming from the neighbor's house. Jen grabbed his rifle and sped down towards the house. Minutes later he got to the wall that surrounded the house. It looked as if the house had been bombed—part of it was in flames The rest would go up quickly. Jen was about to jump over the fence when he saw the two men standing near the house. They were the men from the field. The man with the tattoo said, "Sir, there are no survivors." The other man turned and scanned the horizon. Jen ducked down as the man scanned on the end of the fence where Jen was hiding . "Alright. Let’s go. I need a drink," said the scarred man. The men turned and ambled away from the house. When the men were gone Jen stuck the barrel of his short rifle down the back of his shirt. Jen jumped over the stone wall and raced for the house. Once inside he called, "Is anybody in here?" He was very hot. "I've got to do this fast--the house will not stand much longer." Jen ran through the house, calling in vain for anybody. Faintly, over the roar of the fire, Jen heard coughing. Jen ran towards the sound. Jen's face burned--he covered it with a sleeve and kept running. Jen thought, "The house is not going to be stable for too much longer," as he jumped through a flaming door. Sparks flew, scorching his clothes and burning through to his skin. He ran up a flight of stairs, two at a time, looking for the source of the coughing. When the stairs collapsed, his arms shot out as he tried to grab on to the second floor platform. It took a right good effort to pull himself up, then the adrenalin started to wear off Jen noticed he was light headed and found it hard to breathe. Jen thought to himself, "Maybe I should not have done this." He ran franticly dawn the hall checking in each room. Then he heard the last sounds of life being stolen from someone. Jen exerted himself. He tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge, so he knocked it down. The breaking door sent sparks flying everywhere. Jen knelt by the bodies of the father and mother but it was too late. They had used themselves to shield the children from the blast. The two kids--a boy and a girl--had first degree burns covering part of their bodies. Jen examined them. They had been knocked out by the pain. Jen lifted them on to his shoulders "I've got to get out of here!" Jen ran toward the broken door. Halfway down the hall, a beam came crashing down--blocking the exit. Jen jumped back, ducking the falling beam. E-gads! I'll have to find another way, then, thought Jen as he ducked into a side room to avoid around the beam. He would have to break into another room and hope that that there was an exit that way. Jen thought, "I hope that there are no nails in the wall," as he punched the wall. A sharp pain shot thru his arm--the wall didn't even dentHe took back his hand cradled it and screamed "bloody hell!" " hoy na ny!" "Alright, the windows are blocked, the stairs are non-existent and the Hun dan wall is concrete. We have the floor but underneath us everything is probably engulfed in fire. When you can't go down…then you must go up." Jen took his rifle and used the butt to bash in the ceiling looking for a beam. Most of it, thank God, was breakable. He took the rifle and stuffed it back down his shirt before he grabbed the kids and then ran toward the escape hatch in the attic. On the outside he got his bearings as fresh air entered his lungs. The fire had not spread very far since the house was mostly concrete. Jen looked around and a chill ran down his spine. "How am I going to get to the bottom? It’s got to be three stories and no grass around. The grass that was there--is in flames. I might be able to get down by myself maybe, but what about the kids?" Smoke was really beginning to billow out of the hole. "Alright, Red Archer…time is running out." Then something caught his eye. A shed wall. "I have two options – one, stay on the roof and die a slow horrible death…or two, jump on the shed and risk falling through the roof to a short death. O.K. where do I sign?" Jen picked up the children, jumped and landed on the roof -- it was stable. Jen gave a sigh of relief-- thank God! Suddenly, the shed's roof gave way. Jen landed head first on the hard wooden work table, whacked into the bench then landed on a dirt floor. He blacked out. Jen came to in pain. He tried to open his eyes, but shut them tight. There was a warm liquid running down his face. His eyes felt like someone had heated up sewing needles to glowing hot and had stuck them in through his eyeballs, into his brain and taken a ten pound sledgehammer to his forehead. Through the pain, he had the strange feeling that he was moving. Hey! He heard Godmum's voice say something; he tried to talk but it all came out as a jumble of sounds. This startled him and he jumped bolt up out of the thing that was moving him. As he opened his eyes, he doubled over and reached and then began to collapse. As he fell, he heard some one say "Serrana, help me catch him!" He fell and knew no more.

ch1 Why We Fight--The Fall of the Empires of Earth

yojimbo sharp teeth

part 1

Why We Fight--The Fall of the Empires of Earth


In the mid 21st century, the governments of the world began to decline. After the war of terror, the people stood up to the government--asking for the reasons behind the war. The credibility of the US administration was wearing thin, so the government tried some other ways to keep the people under its thumb. The president of the time decided to put together a secret police to control any upheaval, crashing freedom marches, peace rallies, and when that didn’t deter the protests, they got the idea --what happens when people without guns stand up to people with guns? With this, they repealed the law that no military personnel are to be used against citizens and started turning the U.S. into a militaristic government--and employing secret agents, they rode rampant. People began disappearing. The population stopped listening to their president…but the self-proclaimed emperor of Earth would not take no for an answer. The damage was already done. The enlisted soldiers would not fight their own friends and neighbors. The soldiers were shot for not obeying orders.

On the eve of that year, the Empire dissolved. With no government, a lot of people were out looking for the same jobs that they had been doing all their lives--but the only way they were going to have jobs was if they made their own group or joined organized crime. Crime ran rampant, syndicates fighting each other. Some tried to bring government back. Some of the people said. “This is impossible. Listen, you fight if you want to--I’m going off-world. I’d rather live in a society where I’m dirt poor but free than live in a world where I have all the money I could ever want--but be subject to the whims of a king or government.” They left the earth for the stars. Whole communities charted ships to seek out new planets and hundreds of moons where they could be free. The race for the stars had begun.
It wasn’t easy to create new lands. Rocks had to be ground up into sand. Most started with hydroponics using a liquid solution or aeroponics--having the plants suspended in the air and spraying them with nutrient solutions--and slowly manufacturing dirt by using worms to break down their garbage, creating new life from paper, teabags, and coffee grounds -- even using mushrooms. Some came prepared, some with nothing but a space suit and a ship and seeds thinking that they could put plants in the ground, water them and they would grow. These people didn’t understand. Some stayed with the group trying to help in any way they could and some couldn’t see how anybody could want to live this way and went back to Earth. In those times, some people would have to defend their property and so they’d extend themselves with knives, guns, and even swords.

For five and a half generations the people lived in relative harmony and, as in the colonial days, all the people had and exercised their right to carry side arms. There was no law to what you could and could not use but you were asked to limit it to hand-held side arms--but some carried large battle weapons. Most carried small weaponry, mostly as a convenience. If you’re loading boxes you don’t want a heavy rifle getting in the way. There were places where you could not carry guns so you would hand them over and you would check them. For mass travel, you could carry weapons onboard the vehicle. The only thing is that you had to have weapons that couldn’t puncture the hull and you would check the rest.


Since they had left the planet Earth behind, they spaced the laws and the rules. For example, children from the age of eight wore given a small knife called gadvarge or Protector of Independence, originally carried by Romany gypsy’s on Old Earth. If they wished, by the age of sixteen they had the right to carry small sidearms of her choice. In a free society, all people have the right to defend themselves against those who would do harm to others. Another thing that changed was that without a government, there were no taxes--there was no one to pay them to. But nothing is free, so you were advised to give time and money to the people in your community that were doing good works, such as keeping the roads in repair. You freely give to help the community.
Crimes were dealt with differently on different worlds, but this is what happens on my planet. Crimes were dealt in this manner: for small crimes such as stealing goods or services, you were required to repay to the offended party in goods or services or with money. In other words, if you were not willing to repay, then you would be tattooed by the local people--indicating the crime that you committed. The arms were the best place to be tattooed. You were fitted with a band that would sound an alarm when you entered a public place. For taking the life of another, you would have had to repay in the amount of money that the victim would have made throughout his expected lifetime…and depending who it was, this could be very expensive. As far as pleasure drugs--as long as you didn’t use them to harm other people, this was not an offense. With no victim, there is no crime. The only way you could no longer be tattooed and not have the band was when you paid the offended party and then the only thing that you have had against you would be in the mind of the community. Throughout the ‘verse, there was peace, justice and the free way. Everybody lived happily ever after.

The End…


Hello? I said it was the end…

Hey…why are you still here? Didn’t you believe me when I said that it was the end?

I guess not. I guess it would be wrong of me to not tell you the truth. Very well. There’s a writer named Conner--very nice guy. I net him once, real nice good with kids. He liked to write books. They’re pretty good--the royalties pay the rent. He writes about dragons, spirits, heroes, fomori--creatures of the dark in Ireland…but I digress.

On Old Earth, things were reverting back to what they were. Damn, history seems to repeat itself. Another group of people planned to enter the “business”--government. Coming in and hassling…and in a few short years, empire on Earth--ruled by one man. So he thought “Why stop here? I could be the leader of the entire ‘verse and in time the multiverse!”
Are there actually multiple universes? Maybe I can met a Dal… or a Cyberm…” but anyway, back to our story. So…he sent out his men to the other worlds. They would work to “keep the peace”. But the people of the Outer Planets didn’t want the interference, because when newcomers tried to keep the peace, they would normally break things--and they wouldn’t pay for them.
I must say, never in my life have I seen--in one day--so many guys walking without anything but their underwear with tats of Looter/Killer/Mugger in my life. Well, word of our treatment of his forces got back to Earth and the Lord President was not pleased. His men looked like fools--and by association, so did he.
He sent in his men. In full body armor, they shouldn’t be worried about any forty-four mag slugs and yet it only took about five minutes—well, maybe four and a half--to bring this to an end. All the President’s man came in and simply blasted the place.
Hey, I carry a Callahan full-bore auto lock with a customized trigger and I’m the village storyteller! In other words, we don’t mind defending ourselves.
We finally understood exactly what was coming…and on a side note, I severely regret I didn’t shove him in to a starship engine. Gods help us all for what was to come.