Path: usenet.ins.cwru.edu!news.ecn.bgu.edu!psuvax1!news.pop.psu.edu!news.cac.psu.edu !howland.reston.ans.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!library.ucla.edu!psgrain!charnel .ecst.csuchico.edu!xmission!xmission!not-for-mail From: Andrew Weitzman Newsgroups: alt.devilbunnies Subject: Lights are on... Followup-To: alt.devilbunnies Date: 8 Oct 1994 05:15:51 -0600 Organization: DevilBunnies News<->Mail Gateway Lines: 106 Sender: snowhare@xmission.com Approved: snowhare@xmission.com Distribution: world Message-ID: <375v17$jt@xmission.xmission.com> Reply-To: Andrew Weitzman NNTP-Posting-Host: xmission Ohio, on a dark October night, when the chill of autumn is beginning to take hold. A thin scatter of leaves, bright and colorful, lie dead and rotting in the ditches. Some loft into the air as the car runs silent through the darkness, others are crushed between its wheels. Everywhere, the fallen leaves signify its passage with little dramas of destruction. I *am* in a dark mood, Kralk chuckled. Despite everything--the ultimate failure of his invention, the loss of the Sibyl--he was content. For deacdes, he had lived in the stasis of his futile rage. Always plotting. Always vowing revenge. But Hillis always deterred me, or my inventions self-destructed. That was over now. He had made the final, irrevocable leap into action; he could not shirk from its consequences. Life--and Death--had begun. ********* Five hours later, Kralk was far less sanguine. It's been *ten* bloody hours since I sent those ^&%*&&^% tree-rats a tightbeam. Now I'm in Ohio, in the territory of the strongest devilbunny general alive, and mine hosts have dropped off the face of the earth. He shivered. It had been 48 hours since his last Drain. The sheer amount of Cuteness he had accumulated should have lasted him a week. Even so, he could feel his blood starting to cool. The exertion and stress of the DenverWarren raid was obviously beginning to take it toll; and he was left in the middle of nowhere with no viable victims. The car made a circle around Ucirc campus. This early in the morning, there were only a few students jogging along the tree-lined streets. Despite his anxiety, Kralk began to appreciate the quiet, academic atmosphere Ucirc projected. It was not Cambridge or Oxford; still, he was surprised at the depth of feeling this place--an *American* university, yet--managed to inspire in him. It will be good to be among my fellows, he pondered. Even if I have to live 10 meters below them. He stopped the car at a park. Ahhhh. Five hours of driving had left him with enough kinks for a graduate course at a Swedish masseuse college. The bright morning sun caught him in silhouette, a lanky scarecrow dressed in clothes he had obtained from Goodwill. The greatcoat kept the chilly air away, and the slouch hat did much to hide his rabbit ear. Leather gloves masked his lapine hand; slightly dirty Ace bandages obscured the fur that had grown back to nearly its full length. Curse it. The park was really little more than a traffic island. A gravel path, a tree, a few park benches. He picked up an empty walnut shell, tossing it absently from hand to hand. There was no way he would risk another tightbeam. He had exposed himself enough as it was. No, there had to be an alternate means of warning the little beggars he had arrived. If only-- He snarled. The little red squirrel had leaped into his path, chittering and flicking its tail. Damn things. Kralk's mind lashed out, ensnaring its brain. The blasted thing would at least afford me a morsel-- The Drain stopped. The Cuteness the squirrel radiated--that was not the Cute of natural things. He had Drained enough normal squirrels in Colorado to know that. Congratluations, he abraded himself. You have just killed one of your allies. Loren should be *so* pleased. Wait. It was not dead. Stunned, it lay on the ground, panting in exhaustion. Kralk hurriedly placed the shivering body to a safe place by one of the trees. This could work in my favour, he considered. Hmm, let me see, where it it come from. His eyes wandered until they latched on to a hole in the trunk of a park tree. Aha. It was as he thought; the hole itself was natural, but the opening below it had a decidedly unnatural squirrel-size metal ladder within. It must be a scout. With Loren gone, as he must be, then they obviously have increased perimeter patrols. Intelligent, that. It bodes well. And it gives me a way of contacting the Ucirc leaders. Fishing in the greatcoat pocket, he produced a pencil stub forgotten by one of its previous owners. He fished out a candy bar wrapper, and penned a brief message To Ucirc Warren Leaders: Dr. Lawrence Kralk here. Forced to flee DenverWarren without Sibyl or JK. Am taking up asylum offer. Willing to offer technical and scientific assistance to best of ability. Meet me at coffee house located above Ucirc Warren. He screwed the improvised letter into a tight roll. He leaned over the red squirrel, who had almost recovered from the shock of Draining. "My name is Lawrence Kralk. No, don't look at me as if you don't understand what I'm saying. I know you are sentient, thank you very-- "Bloody hell! Put that thing away, you idiot. All right, my hands are in the air. Let me explain--hello, is that a laser? Fascinating! I didn't know one could make usable weapons from lasers that small... "Oh, yes. To be brief--I know of the devilbunnies, I know about Ucirc, I want to destroy your enemies, blah blah blah, and your leaders promised me asylum." The red squirrel lowered the muzzle of its weapon. "Ah. Good. *So* nice of you to stop threatening my life. This message is for the acting leader of the warren. Please get it to him--or her--as soon as possible. Tell them I will be waiting at the appointed place in twenty minutes." The squirrel took the wrapper. He laughed inside when it obviously could not resist a Cute sniff of the thing. Odd, though, he thought as it streaked away. For a moment, I could swear the thing's fur was shot through with silver... ********** Twenty minutes later, a coffeehouse waitress sighed as that wino who wandered in off the street complained about his Darjeeling. TBC (I await your meeting, Teral) -- ------------------------------------------------- Andrew Weitzman aweitz@CAM.org alt.devilbunnies characters: N!klot, Jeremy Hillis, Dr. Lawrence Kralk, and the Amazing BunnyStomper(tm)!