Renegade: 86-0501 (Part 1)
Hooray for NaNo!
Note: the Founder known as Kay will henceforth be known as Kae. It would just get too confused with my own name otherwise. :P
Wordcount: 1751
Tentative goal today: 2500
“I’ll be back.” The words echoed in my ears, sounding like a direct quote from an old movie we used to watch on Earth. That’s probably where he got them. Matt never was very creative. But that was the last I heard from him.
Kae sighed and tapped the fingers of her free left hand on the desk, drumming it gently and taking a few rare moments of peace and quiet to relax and write in her journal. The responsibilities of Anyana’s Founders were ever pressing, and it was once in a blue moon that any of them found much time to spend away from the hustle and bustle of the duties of running a planet. The civilized portion of the planet, anyway. Anyana was dotted here and there with huge cities with towering skyscrapers and bustling highways, but they tended to cluster into groups in the middle of expansive plains and deserts. Cities that stood alone in the wilderness were at risk of attack from the uncivilized and aggressive- be they unsentient beings as aggressive as earthly kudzu weed, or sentient ones who posed a much greater risk when attacking en masse.
The human woman of about thirty shook her head and continued writing on the electronic tablet with her pencil-like stylus. It would have been much faster and more efficient to simply type what she wanted to say into the computer, but she found that the very act of writing in longhand with a pencil-like utensil was much more therapeutic. It may take her longer to get her thoughts down, but it allowed her to relax in a way that typing or dictating into a recorder wouldn’t. With a sigh and a troubled expression on her face, the First Founder lowered her right hand to the tablet and continued writing.
He said he was meeting with a few Inner Circle members to talk about implementing new security measures at HQ. Ever since we moved locations from the old brick-and-marble affair to our elaborate underground lair (if I weren’t so worried I would laugh at that unintentional rhyme- but I can barely muster a smile as it is) we’ve had a few problems with the document protection software. It shows access from remote locations all over Anyana, but no record of them were ever found when we went to the computer terminals that accessed our database. The owners assured our people that no one could delete the keystroke and access records, but safety is our first priority. Matt was going to hold a meeting and they were going to brainstorm some new ideas and perhaps hire a few computer geniuses to design us some anti-hacking software. Regardless of the cost, the documents that were reported by our computers to have been accessed is NOT an area that we can allow tampering with. If anyone got their hands on those records…I don’t even want to think about it.
Anyway, an hour after he should have gotten to the base where he was having his meeting, we got a call from the Admiral there. Where is Matt? He was supposed to arrive an hour ago. He never showed, and no one informed the Admiral of the change in plans. He wasn’t too happy that he had gone through so much trouble tightening security and gathering the meeting participants, and yet the Fourth Founder hadn’t showed. ‘Thanks a whole heap of a lot,’ the Admiral said.
Through the ensuing pandemonium we learned that Matt left HQ at the precise time that he was scheduled to. But yet he never arrived at his destination. No calls were received from his craft, distress or otherwise, and no airbase on the planet has any records of spotting it or receiving any communication from it. There’ve been no transmissions from the tracking device, either. The man simply dropped off of the face of the planet.
If anything happens to him, I know he’ll be able to handle himself. The man, in beast form, could out-fight a dozen kumayakies, and is quite the match for Ryan and I. We’ve sparred on a number of occasions. He’s just too good at fighting to be killed in that way. I refuse to believe that anyone, sentient or beast, overpowered him. Besides, he would be in direct contact with us if anything happened. He would find a way to get word to us. It has been two days, he has had plenty of time to find anything with a transmitter to get word to us. But he has been silent. And that’s what worries me.
A knocking on the door startled the woman and she looked up after taking a few breaths to steady herself. “Who is it?” She called, hitting ‘save’ on the computer before blanking out the screen for privacy.
“Ryan,” came the reply. The Second Founder was Kae’s closest confidant when it came to Founder matters, and she trusted him with her life. She relaxed and hit the unlock key for the door. With a metallic whoosh the metal door slid sideways, revealing her Italian friend with a plate of steaming pasta.
“You cooked? You never cook! You don’t have time to cook!” He handed the platter to her and she inhaled the warm fumes in the same motion. Kae closed her eyes and smiled. “Ohhhhhhh, I love your cooking.” The smell of authentic Italian spices brought back memories of home. Of Earth. Of when she was little and her parents laughed as she got spaghetti sauce all over her face. Of when she used to watch an old Disney movie about dogs falling in love, and envision that one day her Prince Charming would give her his last meatball as a sweet gesture of kindness. Memories such as that were quickly followed by the one special night when Ryan had taken her to an Italian restaurant and given her his last meatball, in which was hidden a curious round encasing… concealing and protecting a diamond engagement ring. Kae’s teeth hurt for a week after biting into the hard plastic box hidden in the meatball, but she had worn the ring proudly. But that memory was just a dream. He had never proposed and had never given her his last meatball. However, in high school he had taken her and the Third Founder, Jennifer, to an Italian restaurant to discuss their latest biology project. Kae’s crush on the young man had slowly fizzled away, but the memory of that dream had stayed fresh in her mind for years. Deep down Kae wondered if she still cared for him, but… she didn’t have time to think or wonder about such things now. It’s not like they would have time to pursue a relationship anyway. Even if he did care for her (he didn’t, Kae knew. Ryan had come out of the closet the year before they left Earth), the responsibilities of being a Founder would be too great and time too little. They had enough to worry about as it was.
“Cook? Are you kidding? I don’t have time to cook!” The American-accented Italian chuckled. He was perhaps a few years older than Kae, but he, like Kae, still retained a spirit of youth about him. “I had the kitchen staff do it for me.” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the thought. She knew he loved to cook and hated having others do it for him, but he never had time for it. Running a planet was like having two full-time jobs without any days off or holidays. Sometimes she wondered why they had let themselves get this sucked in without appointing any other helpers, but she had always quickly reminded herself afterwards that they had been given no choice. It was either lead or let an entire ecosystem be destroyed from alien attack. The memories of that war were too horrific and the death toll too staggering to think about. She was much happier not remembering the carnage. It only served to remind her that her job did have its reason and purpose.
“Any word on Matt?” Kae asked while unwrapping a set of bare metal silverware from its sterile plastic sheath. Ryan shook his head as he procured a napkin from his back pocket for her and set it on her tray next to the plate of pasta.
“No. In fact, that’s where I’ve been and why I couldn’t cook. I was reviewing the search data and forming a few dozen more search parties, but so far? Nothing.” Ryan watched as Kae began to chow down on the pasta dish, his eyes watching her and his ears listening, but his mind far off. He was as worried as Kae was. The woman looked up from her platter and noticed he didn’t have anything to eat for himself.
“You gonna have a bite?”
“I already ate,” was Ryan’s quiet, distant reply. Kae looked him over once before frowning and pointing at him with her fork.
“You have not. I’ll bet you haven’t eaten since you heard about Matt.” Ryan opened his mouth to protest but a suddenly flung piece of pasta hitting him on the cheek brought him to a sudden silence. Kae’s eyes gleamed with mischief, but also shone with the fire of a determined woman. The air-cooled noodle began to slide off of his shocked face as she spoke again. “If I have to play airplane with a spoon and some baby food, you’re going to get some food in your stomach. You won’t be able to function without food, and we need every brain cell you have in that stubborn skull of yours intact so we can use them to find Matt.” Kay put the tray of pasta in his lap and used her napkin to wipe the now-cold noodle from his cheek. “There. Now, you aren’t going to leave that chair until you’ve eaten every last bite of that pasta. And both breadsticks.” She paused, eyeing the garlic-and-buttery pieces of dough which had baked to perfection. “Well… one breadstick.” In a moment of spontaneity, she snatched one of the sticks from the platter and waved it in the air at him briefly before taking an enthusiastic bite from one end.
Shaking his head, Ryan eyed her with some degree of scrutiny. “You going to ground me if I don’t?” An instant later a half-eaten breadstick was shoved forward with alarming speed, stopping just fractions of an inch from his forehead.
“Try me.”
Note: the Founder known as Kay will henceforth be known as Kae. It would just get too confused with my own name otherwise. :P
Wordcount: 1751
Tentative goal today: 2500
“I’ll be back.” The words echoed in my ears, sounding like a direct quote from an old movie we used to watch on Earth. That’s probably where he got them. Matt never was very creative. But that was the last I heard from him.
Kae sighed and tapped the fingers of her free left hand on the desk, drumming it gently and taking a few rare moments of peace and quiet to relax and write in her journal. The responsibilities of Anyana’s Founders were ever pressing, and it was once in a blue moon that any of them found much time to spend away from the hustle and bustle of the duties of running a planet. The civilized portion of the planet, anyway. Anyana was dotted here and there with huge cities with towering skyscrapers and bustling highways, but they tended to cluster into groups in the middle of expansive plains and deserts. Cities that stood alone in the wilderness were at risk of attack from the uncivilized and aggressive- be they unsentient beings as aggressive as earthly kudzu weed, or sentient ones who posed a much greater risk when attacking en masse.
The human woman of about thirty shook her head and continued writing on the electronic tablet with her pencil-like stylus. It would have been much faster and more efficient to simply type what she wanted to say into the computer, but she found that the very act of writing in longhand with a pencil-like utensil was much more therapeutic. It may take her longer to get her thoughts down, but it allowed her to relax in a way that typing or dictating into a recorder wouldn’t. With a sigh and a troubled expression on her face, the First Founder lowered her right hand to the tablet and continued writing.
He said he was meeting with a few Inner Circle members to talk about implementing new security measures at HQ. Ever since we moved locations from the old brick-and-marble affair to our elaborate underground lair (if I weren’t so worried I would laugh at that unintentional rhyme- but I can barely muster a smile as it is) we’ve had a few problems with the document protection software. It shows access from remote locations all over Anyana, but no record of them were ever found when we went to the computer terminals that accessed our database. The owners assured our people that no one could delete the keystroke and access records, but safety is our first priority. Matt was going to hold a meeting and they were going to brainstorm some new ideas and perhaps hire a few computer geniuses to design us some anti-hacking software. Regardless of the cost, the documents that were reported by our computers to have been accessed is NOT an area that we can allow tampering with. If anyone got their hands on those records…I don’t even want to think about it.
Anyway, an hour after he should have gotten to the base where he was having his meeting, we got a call from the Admiral there. Where is Matt? He was supposed to arrive an hour ago. He never showed, and no one informed the Admiral of the change in plans. He wasn’t too happy that he had gone through so much trouble tightening security and gathering the meeting participants, and yet the Fourth Founder hadn’t showed. ‘Thanks a whole heap of a lot,’ the Admiral said.
Through the ensuing pandemonium we learned that Matt left HQ at the precise time that he was scheduled to. But yet he never arrived at his destination. No calls were received from his craft, distress or otherwise, and no airbase on the planet has any records of spotting it or receiving any communication from it. There’ve been no transmissions from the tracking device, either. The man simply dropped off of the face of the planet.
If anything happens to him, I know he’ll be able to handle himself. The man, in beast form, could out-fight a dozen kumayakies, and is quite the match for Ryan and I. We’ve sparred on a number of occasions. He’s just too good at fighting to be killed in that way. I refuse to believe that anyone, sentient or beast, overpowered him. Besides, he would be in direct contact with us if anything happened. He would find a way to get word to us. It has been two days, he has had plenty of time to find anything with a transmitter to get word to us. But he has been silent. And that’s what worries me.
A knocking on the door startled the woman and she looked up after taking a few breaths to steady herself. “Who is it?” She called, hitting ‘save’ on the computer before blanking out the screen for privacy.
“Ryan,” came the reply. The Second Founder was Kae’s closest confidant when it came to Founder matters, and she trusted him with her life. She relaxed and hit the unlock key for the door. With a metallic whoosh the metal door slid sideways, revealing her Italian friend with a plate of steaming pasta.
“You cooked? You never cook! You don’t have time to cook!” He handed the platter to her and she inhaled the warm fumes in the same motion. Kae closed her eyes and smiled. “Ohhhhhhh, I love your cooking.” The smell of authentic Italian spices brought back memories of home. Of Earth. Of when she was little and her parents laughed as she got spaghetti sauce all over her face. Of when she used to watch an old Disney movie about dogs falling in love, and envision that one day her Prince Charming would give her his last meatball as a sweet gesture of kindness. Memories such as that were quickly followed by the one special night when Ryan had taken her to an Italian restaurant and given her his last meatball, in which was hidden a curious round encasing… concealing and protecting a diamond engagement ring. Kae’s teeth hurt for a week after biting into the hard plastic box hidden in the meatball, but she had worn the ring proudly. But that memory was just a dream. He had never proposed and had never given her his last meatball. However, in high school he had taken her and the Third Founder, Jennifer, to an Italian restaurant to discuss their latest biology project. Kae’s crush on the young man had slowly fizzled away, but the memory of that dream had stayed fresh in her mind for years. Deep down Kae wondered if she still cared for him, but… she didn’t have time to think or wonder about such things now. It’s not like they would have time to pursue a relationship anyway. Even if he did care for her (he didn’t, Kae knew. Ryan had come out of the closet the year before they left Earth), the responsibilities of being a Founder would be too great and time too little. They had enough to worry about as it was.
“Cook? Are you kidding? I don’t have time to cook!” The American-accented Italian chuckled. He was perhaps a few years older than Kae, but he, like Kae, still retained a spirit of youth about him. “I had the kitchen staff do it for me.” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the thought. She knew he loved to cook and hated having others do it for him, but he never had time for it. Running a planet was like having two full-time jobs without any days off or holidays. Sometimes she wondered why they had let themselves get this sucked in without appointing any other helpers, but she had always quickly reminded herself afterwards that they had been given no choice. It was either lead or let an entire ecosystem be destroyed from alien attack. The memories of that war were too horrific and the death toll too staggering to think about. She was much happier not remembering the carnage. It only served to remind her that her job did have its reason and purpose.
“Any word on Matt?” Kae asked while unwrapping a set of bare metal silverware from its sterile plastic sheath. Ryan shook his head as he procured a napkin from his back pocket for her and set it on her tray next to the plate of pasta.
“No. In fact, that’s where I’ve been and why I couldn’t cook. I was reviewing the search data and forming a few dozen more search parties, but so far? Nothing.” Ryan watched as Kae began to chow down on the pasta dish, his eyes watching her and his ears listening, but his mind far off. He was as worried as Kae was. The woman looked up from her platter and noticed he didn’t have anything to eat for himself.
“You gonna have a bite?”
“I already ate,” was Ryan’s quiet, distant reply. Kae looked him over once before frowning and pointing at him with her fork.
“You have not. I’ll bet you haven’t eaten since you heard about Matt.” Ryan opened his mouth to protest but a suddenly flung piece of pasta hitting him on the cheek brought him to a sudden silence. Kae’s eyes gleamed with mischief, but also shone with the fire of a determined woman. The air-cooled noodle began to slide off of his shocked face as she spoke again. “If I have to play airplane with a spoon and some baby food, you’re going to get some food in your stomach. You won’t be able to function without food, and we need every brain cell you have in that stubborn skull of yours intact so we can use them to find Matt.” Kay put the tray of pasta in his lap and used her napkin to wipe the now-cold noodle from his cheek. “There. Now, you aren’t going to leave that chair until you’ve eaten every last bite of that pasta. And both breadsticks.” She paused, eyeing the garlic-and-buttery pieces of dough which had baked to perfection. “Well… one breadstick.” In a moment of spontaneity, she snatched one of the sticks from the platter and waved it in the air at him briefly before taking an enthusiastic bite from one end.
Shaking his head, Ryan eyed her with some degree of scrutiny. “You going to ground me if I don’t?” An instant later a half-eaten breadstick was shoved forward with alarming speed, stopping just fractions of an inch from his forehead.
“Try me.”