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FOLLOW THE NOSFERATU
* CHAPTER 2 * - Lotus
BEGIN SEQUENCE II.
Introduction by Jayman - We continue approximately 12 hours after the end of SEQUENCE I.
During these 12 hours:
• The Nosferatu has travelled about 12 hours, going west from Zion to Sewer Grid D-6, then south to Grid D-4, in the same
general area of their last broadcast position two weeks ago. (See Sewer Grid.)
• With Jayman piloting first, Jayman and Crystal have switched pilotting duties every 4 hours for the last 12 hours:
Jayman 0700 to 1100, Crys 1100 to 1500, Jayman 1500 to 1900. In his off-piloting time, Jayman has lunched, met with his crew,
rested in his quarters, studied the Lotus files. In her off-piloting time, Crys has done almost the same things.
• Crys had lunch early. So while Crys was piloting, everyone else met in the messhall for some semi-liquid goop for lunch.
Jayman had dinner early. So while Jayman was piloting, everyone else met in the messhall for some more goop for dinner.
• That morning, Avalon gave Libertad some medical training in the Infirmary. A visit to the additional medical supplies
in the Lower Deck Loading Bay. That afternoon, some additional training in the Construct.
• That morning, Hitchhiker and Miriam tested her arm attachment in the Construct. During the messhall lunch, Jayman
agreed to let Hitch operate for Avalon and Libertad. That afternoon, Hitch operated for Avalon and Libertad in the Construct,
while Miriam busied herself with some random ship maintenance: Engineering, Ammo-Loading Stations, Gun Stations, Body Scoop.
Setting by Jayman - We begin with the following scenes:
• SEWER TUNNELS - The Nosferatu will land at the first broadcast position in an hour or so.
• COCKPIT - Jayman is still piloting. Crys has arrived to ask him to let her take over the piloting.
• MIRIAM/LIBERTAD'S QTRS. - After a long day, Avalon and Libertad are resting, talking in Miriam/Libertad's shared quarters,
talking about crewmates, Zion, whatever.
• CORE - Crys just left the Core. After a long day, Hitch and Miriam are resting in the suspension chairs, talking about
crewmates, the Nos, the Matrix, whatever. When the ship lands in an hour or so, Hitch will operate for Crystal's
reconnaissance mission.
* 4 * - A Long Day
POST 025 (continued) / NOS / COCKPIT / JAYMAN:
His slender eyes tiring from another four-hour stretch of uneventful piloting through the dark and desolate, twisting and
turning, labyrinthine sewer tunnels, Captain Jayman blinked at the time display -- 1857 -- and breathed a heavy sigh.
Damn, twelve hours... Man, I really woke up too early...
He yawned again, the deep intake of air tapering into another exhausted groan.
Well, Crys should be here soon... But we're almost there...
Jayman glanced at the red lines and dots, representing the intended course and broadcast points, on the flickering screen.
He focussed on the estimated time remaining -- 0104 -- beside the first red line.
"Another hour," the captain muttered, "Maybe I'll just pilot the rest of the way myself..."
POST 026 / NOS / CATWALKS / CRYSTAL:
Leaving the Core, Crystal climbed the ladder to the upper level, made her way on the catwalk, and headed to the
cockpit to take over the piloting from Jayman. She smiled tiredly as her boots echoed on the metal grating of the catwalk.
De ja vu... Is it already the second or third time today that I've walked this way? It'll become a routine soon,
she joked, suppressing a little yawn. She just awoke from her nap 10 minutes ago, and with a shiver, recalled the
gloomy scenes and haunting images of her dream. Never had one like that before...
Crystal is in a park... in only a sheer summer-dress... darkness all around... heavy raindrops landing on the bare skin of
her arms... soaked from head to toe... shivering from the cold... all alone... in frightening silence... Then a sudden shriek from somewhere near...
a terrified scream for help... She runs along the paved path, deeper into the center of the park, to find the origin of the voice...
Then a bright flash...
Still in the same dress, wet, trembling of cold... standing in the middle of a road, in the rain, alone again... and
another scream... She whirls around and takes a few steps forward... a glimpse of a shadow on the building's wall, at the corner...
a few more steps... quiet noises... She looks at the pavement... the shadow is gone... rain hits the ground... the water slowly runs in little
streams on the pavement... dreadful silence... She stares at the water at her feet... the raindrops change color... into deep red...
like blood... her eyes follow the red stream... until it meets a body on the pavement... She takes another step forward...
into the bloody water... shocked... taking a closer look at the unfortunate person... another scream fills the air... but this time it's her
own... The motionless, bleeding girl is HER...
Pushing the unpleasant images aside, rubbing her eyes once more, Crystal entered the cockpit.
COCKPIT / CRYSTAL & JAYMAN:
"What's up?" Crystal asked, dropping herself into the right-side co-pilot seat, shooting a quick glance at Jayman.
She fastened her seatbelt, and checked the display screens of the control panels.
"Not much," he replied.
" 'Kay, I'll take over the controls." The commander studied the ship's position on the screen.
The captain shook his head. "You need to prepare for the mission," he noted, "I'll drive the rest of the way."
"No," Crystal turned to him, with a firm protesting look on her face. "I'm ready. You know there's nothing to prepare
for..." She stared at his eyes. "I'm ok, I'll do my shift." Her voice was determined, but she still was under the effect of her
dream. What she really needed was to occupy her thoughts with piloting.
Jayman turned and met her focussed green eyes... He knew she was right... A nap was all she needed...
"Okay, commander," he nodded, and waited for her to take over the controls.
Glancing at him, Crystal nodded, satisfied. "Right," she acknowledged and flipped several switches to transfer the
piloting from Jayman's control to hers.
Letting go of the steering handles, the captain leaned back in his chair. "Mind if I stay?" he asked, his look fixed on her.
Crystal shot a surprised glance at him. After a short pause, she said quietly, "As you wish. But only if you don't tell
me how I should drive." She threw a threatening yet playful look at the captain, and turned her head back to the control panels.
POST 027 / NOS / CORE / HITCHHIKER & MIRIAM:
Lounging in the starboard-most suspension chair, the big black socketless operator tipped back his old orange cap,
stretched his arms behind his head, and listened to Miriam's afternoon of ship maintenance.
"There's always something with old Nos," Hitch yawned with a grin. "If a gun station doesn't have a jam in the ammo belt,
then there's a short-circuit in a bank of batteries, or the air-conditioning system needs a recharge... But he still hangs tough even after
a hundred years."
"So I've noticed," Miriam chuckled from the adjacent chair.
As Hitch joined her hushed laughter, he noticed a dim movement past Miriam, from the port corridor of the ship. The
slender figure climbed up the clanging ladder to the aft catwalk platform, then headed along the rattling far catwalk towards the forward
platform. The unmistakable ponytailed figure was Commander Crystal.
"Hello, commander," Hitch smiled from his reclining pose.
Miriam glanced up and added awkwardly, "Um, have a nice rest?"
But the scarlet-haired commander didn't hear them. Or if she did, she seemed to ignore them, and continued past the
platform to the cockpit.
Quietly, Miriam tossed a confused look at Hitch, "What was that?"
Trained to notice details, the seasoned operator sometimes fought to find clues or hints in the Matrix and on the Nos.
Other times, they just hit him in the face. Returning his huge serpentine arms, crossed upon his chest, he stared at the empty catwalks
for a moment, then shrugged.
"You get used to it," Hitch answered just as quietly. "The look of a commander, or a captain, in thought... Best to let
them think it through."
Yeah, definitely in thought... and probably not a nice rest either...
POST 028 / NOS / MIR'S & LIB'S QUARTERS / AVALON:
Collapsed on Miriam's bed, Avalon was ready for her nap. It was always hell, the first day out of dock, and today was no
different, what with running around Zion like a moron, and training Libertad, and setting up the med lab, and eating snotty healthy
goop... sigh...
I wonder if I could fry the goop like a pancake on one of the burners in infirm... hmmmm... pancakes...
She smiled at Libertad and asked, "So how has life been, since we busted you out of the Matrix?"
Maybe you've had the chance to get some sort of life... pancakes... damn it, woman, focus!
POST 029 / NOS / CORE / MIRIAM & HITCHHIKER:
"There's always something with old Nos..." Hitch yawned with a grin. "...But he still hangs tough even after a hundred
years."
"So I've noticed," Miriam chuckled from the adjacent chair. She gazed at the cable-covered Core tower before her, that
steel-plated tree trunk covered in black rubber vines, its multi-jointed branches carrying its flickering flat-screened fruit. And at the base
of the tree trunk, the oil-stained and rust-patched plaque was bolted.
MARK III No 29
NOSFERATU
MADE IN THE USA
YEAR 2103
Wow... a hundred years... so many years...
Lost in the image of the old plaque, trying to imagine all of the past crews, of the past soldiers who once sat in the
same chair in which she now sat, Miriam was suddenly jolted by Hitch's voice directed beyond the steel tree.
"Hello, commander," he said.
The young crewmate looked up, caught Crystal striding along the far catwalk, and added awkwardly,
"Um, have a nice rest?"
But the commander never answered her and vanished into the cockpit.
"What was that?" she whispered to Hitch.
What was that?... Did I do something wrong?... I hope she doesn't hate me...
Hitch stared for a moment then replied, "You get used to it... The look of a commander, or a captain, in thought...
Best to let them think it through."
Miriam nodded slowly and curiously. She rubbed her tired brown eyes, glanced up past the steel branches, and squinted
at the catwalks. I wonder what she's thinking about... The captain? Her mission?... Yeah, it's almost time for her mission...
time for me to fall asleep...
And this time, it was her turn to yawn.
POST 030 / NOS / MIR'S & LIB'S QUARTERS / LIBERTAD:
Libertad was sitting on her bed, brushing her hair softly. She loved to do that, especially after a hard day. It was very
relaxing and her curls wouldn't get straight anyway. She shrugged and sighed. She was still wondering what the hell she was doing there.
Slowly learning not to enter the Matrix was a temptation, but that'd be cheating and she wanted to be honest.
You shouldn't have made that promise, she thought, Now it's too late.
"Completely different from what I had expected," she said with her Spanish accent she was really proud of, looking into
Avalon's eyes while talking -- another Spanish habit she refused to change. For her, looking into people's eyes while talking was essential,
a proof of honesty.
"I lived with a Zionite family, a young couple and their two little evil daughters. I love them all, they've been so sweet.
I left their place a couple of months ago, when I considered I was ready to be on my own. I've grown older really fast these three years.
I'm not a stupid preppy anymore and..." She paused slightly. "Well, I met a great guy. We've been dating for four months, but he's just
kissed me once, when he found out I was joining the Nos. The rest of the time, he acted like an older brother. I think I've fallen for him,
but I'm not sure about him. Guess I'm still too young, don't know. And now I'm scared of being here, scared of dying."
Libertad paused once more and felt stupid because of the things she'd said.
"So, how about you?"
POST 031a / MATRIX / SKYSCRAPER / AGENT GREENE:
The Matrix...
As far as his advanced artificial intelligence allowed, Agent Greene despised this human zoo called the Matrix. He
detested it not for its ingenious technology, but for the oblivious and helpless human masses it caged, to harness their bioelectric, thermal,
and kinetic energies.
He raised a crisp black eyebrow. Well, an unfortunate few are not so oblivious or helpless...
From one of the highest floors of the mirrored skyscraper, from behind his mirrored sunglasses, his green eyes surveyed
the afternoon cityscape bustling beneath the cloud-covered sky. Meanwhile his other eyes -- the countless eyes of human minds still
plugged into the system, countless eyes glancing and blinking and staring and winking -- kept watch on the buzzing and beeping city
streets below.
He dug his polished black shoes into the synthetic carpeting. ...In fact, they may be aware enough to appreciate
my benevolent punishment...
Clasping his hands tightly behind his suited form, Greene grumbled at the cityscape, "Where are you?"
You cannot hide forever...
Standing as straight and stark as a hawk high on its perch, he waited tirelessly for those unfortunate few to appear.
POST 031b / MATRIX / GRANDMA'S HOUSE / LOTUS:
After another long day of uneventful classes, annoying teens, and back-breaking books, Cynthia Peterson stepped off
her squeaking school bus, clutched the hood of her shiny baby-blue raincoat, and shielded her faded blue eyes from the blistering wind.
Bearing her flower-printed apple-green bookbag like a wooden cross three times her weight, she dragged her black hiking boots along the
cracked sidewalk, across the rustling leaves, and up the brick steps to the plain front entrance of her grandma's home.
Another long day...
A few strands of long blond hair wrestling away and escaping from her hood, Cynthia popped open the screen door and
inserted her key into the front door. With a turn of the knob, she entered the modest single-storey brick house and locked the door.
Through the distinct grandmotherly smell of flowers, deodorizers, and bodily age, she glided past the kitchen towards the door at the
end of the hall.
Grandma seems to be out for the moment... probably out getting groceries...
With another turn of the knob, she entered her tiny flower-themed room and again locked the door. Finally, letting
them slide off her slight shoulders, she dropped everything onto her bed -- her bag, her raincoat, and most importantly, her tired aching
self. Lying back on the edge of slumber, she stared up at the blank white ceiling and forced her eyes wide open.
And now, another long night...
POST 031c / NOS / COCKPIT / JAYMAN:
"...But only if you don't tell me how I should drive," Crystal replied with a spicy mixture of menace and mischief.
Captain Jayman chuckled, "Don't worry, I won't... After all, you're the expert."
With less than an hour to the first broadcast point, his brief smile soon faded. Recalling his own words to the crew,
Crys would soon resume the reconnaisance mission... the reconnaisance mission that was aborted two weeks ago. If things look
good, our following mission will make first contact with Lotus... If our subsequent contacts go well, our final mission will rescue her...
Two weeks had passed since their last failed attempt, which meant THREE weeks since their last successful
reconnaissance. The captain knew that this wasn't good, a delay was never good. In that time, Lotus could've altered her regular
routine, or some unanticipated event could've altered it for her. This would mean additional reconnaissance and additional delays prior
to first contact. At the very worst, they would never again have another chance to free her. Agents could've grabbed her, bugged her,
killed her, or even pushed her to kill herself. And they would have to move on and start another search from scratch.
As the captain stared beyond the cockpit windshield, down the spinning and streaking sewer tunnel, he sighed.
Three weeks... Not good at all...
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