Wednesday, May 26, 2004


Chair Leg Over Miami, part 1.

I was at my tailor's when the call came. Stan's new batch of fabric had survived another night and seemed stable enough for government work; he refused to guarantee past a week of constant use but even that was better than replacing the whole suit every 24 hours. I had just slipped into the fine Strattonester which fit my frame as well as anything from Saville Row when my holo' chimed. Answering the call I was suprised to see the weathered face of my Sifu coalesce in the air before me; I was even more suprised when I realised that he was bleeding.

"Master Chow," I gasped, "what happened?"
"You must come at once Little Gecko..." his voice trailing off as he fought to remain conscious.

Well I didn't need telling twice; I nodded to Stan, shucked on my long black coat decorated with bullet holes from the death of my clone brother, and reached out with my Will. Space and time churned about me like wax in a lava lamp. In much less time than it takes to say it I was stepping into Gambles Den down by Newlands Wharf. The Chinese Restaurant come Casino come Martial Arts Dojo was a complete pigs ear and not of the crispy fried kind either. Sifu was slumped by the Holo' looking like some mad whittler had been having a go at him; which I guess wasn't too far from the truth. I called for an ambulance and knelt beside him.

"Master," I asked, "who did this to you?" His eyes flicked open as he looked up at me.
"Little Gecko," he muttered, "..there is a war amongst the Hire Powers..."
"Master, you are hurt," I responded, "conserve your strength. I will get my answers when you are able to give them..."
"NO! I had heard of her... the Scarlet Harlot... One of our number driven mad.. who has violate her own Nature.. seeking to destroy The Holy... You are Our best student.. you have mastered the Gun-Fu and.. your own nature makes you an Adept of the secrets of the Wuxai. You must go; stop them... They hold the secret of your friend..."
"My friend?" It didn't need two guesses to figure out whom Sifu meant, "what's their connection to Rodney?"

Rodney was a friend in many ways; Maitre'd of the cocktail bar I owned he was also the Hire Power of Bar Stewards. Despite being the omnipotent inhabitant of his own demi-plane he had stuck beside me through thick and thin right up until recently. Suddenly he had vanished; retreated into D-Space and closed all the gates behind him. Something had terrified the eldritch horror and, having seen him wrestle his portfolio back from Bacchus, I knew that he didn't scare easy.

"All will be made clear Little Gecko.. even for you there is little time you must go..."
"Where Master?" He told me. His words filled my senses; overwhelmed my defences and sent me spinning across space-time like a sycamore seed in a whirlwind.

Tuesday, May 18, 2004


Hello? Is This Thing On?

Okay... "The following record should only be read by beings of the third level of stabillity; so if you're not some god-like intellect stop reading now". Yada yada yada... You don't think that's pretentious do you?


Oh the whole "secrets herein will melt your brain to mush if you're not some kind of super-being" slant; I mean this is my first journal and here I am cutting my readership down with the initial post. What's the point of me doing this if the only people who can read it are those who have their own ways of discovering it?


That's your real problem you know; having never been human you have no idea what you're talking about when it comes to us... I mean "them".


Yeah and you're the super computer that simulates the multiverse so accurately that not even reality can tell the difference... bet you can't experience the human condition. You might be the computer that thinks it's God or God thinking it's a computer but for all your omnipotence you can't narrow your focus down to a single individual without destroying yourself in the paradox.


Ahah! See I know what I'm talking about! "Wise and terrible" that's me.


Go on then, slope off in a sulk; see if I give a flying monkey!

Right. Now that the WHIRLOGOG has departed to nurse it's wounded ego; how can an omnipotent being have an ego to wound in the first place? Now I can... Has anyone else noticed that the moment there's an open mic in front of you suddenly you're all Keyser Soze? That's Turkish for "verbal diarrhoea"...

Anyway. The fact that you're reading a transcription of this means that at least one of the quantum entanglements between this terminal and the interweb of your native continuum was successful. That means that anything this terminal transcribes will appear on yours despite the fact there isn't an actual physical connection between them. No I don't really understand how that works either and I use it to get to work every morning...

Ah, my work; now we get to the crux of the matter. I'm a super being; I would say "hero" but that's a matter of opinion. I "Moderate", that is to say "Police", a pocket universe populated with all the dangerous intellectuals you thought the secret masters of your world had liquidated. Oh and all the rivals they didn't want to kill just incase they became useful. So not only to we have all the overly curious bookish types but also the baccian demipowers, crazy Cthuloid cultists and psychotic twelve foot long shape-shifting lizards as well.

I'm doing it again... and that's the 'emergency' signal.

Look, the reason I'm keeping this journal is because I'm terrible at keeping secrets so I've decided to keep a record of events and my thoughts and sharing it with whomever cares to listen; which seems to be you. Some of this stuff may not be true in your continuua or may be so true as to turn your brain into a grey mush; Cavate Lector.

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