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Day of the Mystikon

Chapter 1:
The Martian Landlords


Chapter 2:
The Post
Neutronic Era


Chapter 3:
The NYC
and the EMDA


Chapter 4:
Stranded at Toyland


Chapter 5:
A Gem for
a Raygun


Chapter 6:
An Isotope
for an Engine


Chapter 7:
A Sublime
Portent


Chapter 8:
A Hard Rain

Chapter 9:
Against the Wind

Chapter 10.
The Monster Tank


Chapter 11:
The Secret Agent

Chapter 12:
The NDX Unit


Chapter 13:
Fort Granite


Chapter 14:
Contact with the Natives

Day of the Mystikon

8.  A Hard Rain

The next morning, after breakfast, Ron removed the burnt-out regulator-crystal, so that he could take it apart and make sure the new one under construction met with the 3d spex. The print-out provided the 3d spex in 2d perspective quite well, but he wanted to be certain it was exact. He stuck the apple-sized, hexagonal crystal in a pouch, went outside, and secured the jetpak and the helmet. It was around 9 am when he blasted away westward over hills and trees, and Al was setting up a target in the lot by the docks, to try out his new crossbow.

  Ron landed in the field by the plant, walked to the patio, removed the jetpak and helmet, and radioed Al to let him know he was there. He worked all morning on the component in the lab, and by 12 noon, was ready to put it all together. He grabbed some junk food from a vending-machine, went out to the picnic table, and called Al.

  “I should be out of here by 1,” he said. “Let you know for sure when I go, over.”
  While he sat on the picnic table and ate, he noticed a mass of dark clouds moving in from the northwest. It looked like a thunderstorm, so he hurried lunch and went quickly back to the lab.

  As he assembled the crystal component, and studied the burnt-out pieces, he was led to wonder what had caused the burn-out. It appeared to be centered around the nexus in which the isotope was located. The isotope had disintegrated and the lines leading from it were all burnt away, and most of the other tiny comparts and units had been damaged. The entire circuit had been affected by the tiny ‘explosion’ and nothing was salvageable.

  He assembled the new component, under the magnifier, with fine tweezers, and micro-lasered everything into the circuit. By the time it was complete, his mind had been led by the mysterious burn-out to suspect neutronic radiation, but he was by no means certain. It appeared as the most obvious possibility, but it was only a theory.

  With the component complete, the tiny coil of cesium-54 glowing slightly as it refracted the light through the crystal nexus, Ron yawned and stretched, then recalled the storm clouds and packed everything away in the pouch. The dark clouds were moving in overhead as he strapped on the jetpak and celled Al on the radio.

  “I’m out a here, Al,” he said, “See you in ten minutes.”
  The storm was a mixture of lightning, thunder, and rain, and hit them just as Ron touched down at the docks. He didn’t bother removing the jetpak, or helmet, and hurried in as Al held the door open. Inside, Al helped him with the jetpak, and then admired the regulator crystal closely.

  “Didn’t realize you were so good with your hands,” he admitted, studying the piece with interest.
  “I’ve had a lot of practice,” Ron admitted. “Let’s hope it works as well as it looks.”

  Al handed it back and he put it back in the pouch.
  “Hmm..., it had better,” Al agreed. “I mean, this is an interesting place to visit, with so many things at our disposal, but, it’s a little too lifeless for me.”

  “A nice place to visit,” Ron agreed, “but we would not want to live here.”
  Al handed him an ale and nodded. The storm raged outside, with occasional claps of thunder and a hard rain hammering the roof overhead. They sat down at the table and relaxed.

  “So when do you figure we’ll be ready to leave,” Al said, “if the new component works?” He spoke casually while nursing an ale and looking at a local AB3 Earth magazine.

  “Well, I’d rather not fly in this storm,” Ron answered, “or at night. Depending on how long this rain is, either late this afternoon or tomorrow.”

  “And where do we go from here?” Al said, nodding.
  “South along the river-valley,” Ron said. “If Nxtl is involved, as Elza and the others suspect, he might be around Springfield.”

  “You think he is?’” Al said, with slight doubt.
  “I don’t know,” Ron admitted. “I gave the bastard 25 grand in gold and platinum. You’d think he would’ve been content with that.”
  “Really,” Al agreed. “Then again, who can trust a bastard evil enough to commit mass-murder?”

  Ron nodded but didn’t know what to say. Was it possible he had let the affinity with the linear connection to his family tree cloud his judgment? After all, if circumstances had been slightly different, Nxtl might just as well have turned out to be a good guy, like his own grandfather. And furthermore, what of the AB3 Earth diamet in 1975? Were Exo and Xik more responsible for Nxtl’s evil fate than they realized?

  The rain kept hammering down for hours, so Al and Ron decided to do some gift-hunting about the shops. After 2 hours, the both of them were inebriated from ales and had baskets full of goodies to take home to their family and friends. They met at the front of the department store, set their baskets down, and looked out at the parking lot, as the rain continued. It had become as dark as a deep dusk, with heavy grey clouds over head, and it didn’t appear ready to let up. It was so dark in fact that the automatic lighting had gone up in several of the shops and the department store.

  Al looked at his time-piece and sighed.
  “Only 4 pm in the afternoon,” he said, “and it looks like the sun’s setting. What a grey day.”

  “It looks like it’s not going to let up,” Ron admitted. “This is foolish. There really is no reason why I can’t install the component now. Amalek’s auxiliary batteries can provide enough light.”

  He made up his mind with firm decision.  But Al stopped him.
  “How many beers have you had?” he said to Ron, confiding like a caretaking brother.

  “Five,” Ron admitted, with some measure of uncertainty mixed with overbearing gall.
  “Leave it, for now,” Al advised, before Ron could kick into gear. “You need the rest. Besides, it’ll be night soon and we don’t want to travel in the dark.”
  Ron took another swig of ale and agreed.

  “Why are we getting drunk?” he said, posing it as somewhat of an analytical question. “This is insane. A group of madmen have just annihilated all life on the planet Earth in 2024, and we’re stuck in a suburban department store getting drunk. I don’t know, Al.”

  Al let a short chuckle out, but got it quickly under control.
  “Stranger things have been known to happen,” Al admitted. “What choice do we have? We’ve some time to kill, and we needed the rest.”

  “That’s true,” Ron agreed. “But I feel as if I could be doing something about the problem now.’
  “You’re right,” Al agreed. “Let’s watch a science-fiction movie on the video.”

  Ron accepted this as a temporary solvent to the ‘problem’ and the two of them went to the back of the store, towards the stockroom, to the video department. They stopped and looked at about twelve different varieties of television-video units, and Al became suddenly amazed by a very creative idea.

  “See these four videos,” he said, leading Ron, with interest into the area of wall-to-wall carpet, and switched them all on, one after the other. Since there were no stations in operation, the screens displayed various patterns of static.

  “Wait here,” he said to Ron, and the beer-toting Captain, at ease, consented.
  Minutes later, Al returned with a basket full of videotapes, and going from the top left hand video, clock wise, loaded tapes into each video-slot. In the end, four different science-fiction videos were playing, on each of the screens. Ron drew up a chair and applauded him for his ingenuity. Al then set a cooler down between them, on the rug, and they let the fascinating science-fiction tales carry them through the hours.

  They sat through the first four tales, and Al loaded four more in. Sometime during the second set, around 6 pm, as they were nodding off to sleep in the ‘lounges’ they moved in, for more comfort, during the second set, all the power went out, and left them in darkness. They sat in silence, unsure of what to make of it or how to react. Finally, Al whispered, carefully.

  “Now that I think of it,” he said, as Ron listened, still in the lounge, in an air of sudden mystery, “it’s about time the power went out. Think about it. It has been on low-output for almost 3 months. It appears the fuel-tank is finally dry.”

  Ron struggled out of his drunken slumber and considered his friends words.
  “Yes, of course,” he agreed. “It would appear that your evaluation of our situation is correct. But, just in case, don’t you think we should put our guards up?”

  They sat and counted the seconds, in consideration of this, and then suddenly, both of them began to move, senses peaked in alarm. They left the ‘living-room’, ran to the stockroom, turned on the battery-powered lamp, and put on their armor. They looked outside, and saw only darkness.

  That night, they agreed to stand guard in shifts, and Al took the first 4 hours. It was the only practical way to do it, under the circumstances, for neither of them could rest easy otherwise. While one slept, the other performed various little duties, making the rounds, checking on Amalek and the quarters of the store, like night-duty security guards.

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Chapter 15:
Lakeside Limbo