From: Auberon [fskln1@uaf.edu] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 3:26 AM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - New reviews "Robert P. Stefko" wrote: > > I understand the aesthetic pleasure one can derive from nature. I think the > Grand Canyon is the most starkly beautiful natural feature on the planet. > This does not change my appraisal of its value, which is only so much as can > be derived from its status as a tourist magnet. I think that there is something to be said for the spiritual value of a place; I grew up here in Alaska, and can't imagine growing up in a city. As it is, I can only visit them for limited periods of time before I start getting twitchy. Maybe this is just what I'm accustomed to, but growing up in a place where trees have fences around them seems one step up from hell. That said... > As for Thoreau and his works, I could never stomach transcendentalism, nor > any other pantheistic religion or philosophy that dismisses empiricism and > embraces intuition and emotion (like New Age gaianism ). It's We don't agree often, but I am *so* with you here. I can't stand any belief system that holds that one thing is inherently perfect or good. It makes me nauseous. Of course I can't stand antitranscentdentalists either, because they're terrible bores. > unfortunate that so many people in the modern era have internalized these > notions. If people would think before they feel, trust reason and experience > before emotion, there would be far fewer demagogues in the history books, > and nowhere near the frequency of misguided, nonconstructive civil > disobedience and collective protest witnessed in the past three decades. But most totalitarian dictators are rational idealists. Not the nicest people. I think the fundamental problem is that most people seem to want to see things in black and white terms. If they weren't looking for a whipping boy, they could see what's really going on. Perhaps that's not clear; if people weren't internalizing trancendentalist garbage, they'd internalize other garbage. -- +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= "I never get involved in my own life. It's too much trouble" - Michael Garibaldi (Babylon 5) *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Auberon [fskln1@uaf.edu] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 3:04 AM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - Critter questions Tun Kai Poh wrote: > > - Stats for Earth animals introduced to Poseidon (Water Rat vs. Marine > Iguana: who wins?). Hey, and you thought cock fights would make good gambling! Previously unmatched critters would make great high-stakes gambles. > - Uplifted animals (neo-dogs, neo-parrots and uplifted sea lions, > anybody?). These don't have to be fully sentient, but some increased > intelligence would certainly make them more useful to humanity. I still maintain that parrots and ravens (perhaps sleightly larger versions) could be fully genlifted. > - Extinct Poseidon species extant in the fossil record, with perhaps > just enough traces of preserved DNA for LavOrg to resurrect a la > Jurassic Park... Ooh! Tell me Poseidon had critters suspiciously similar to aquatic dinos! That's a bit I'd love to feed to a scientist character. > Heck, I'd pay just to see an all-blimp sourcebook, and I _know_ Dave > Klegman would buy it too! This from the same guy who brought up dolphin crack whores. Either I need to join one of your games, or you need to be commited. Probably both. -- +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= "I never get involved in my own life. It's too much trouble" - Michael Garibaldi (Babylon 5) *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: David Klegman [klegman.1@osu.edu] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 7:35 AM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - Critter questions At 12:03 AM 4/14/99 -0800, you wrote: >I still maintain that parrots and ravens (perhaps sleightly larger >versions) could be fully genlifted. I like this idea; birds would make great spies. For this use, you might not even have to fully uplift them. Just enough so that they know what to do with their implanted eyes/cameras/transmitters... :-) And then there's the possiblity of hybridizing them like cat-hybrids. I know there's a race in the Fading Suns Players' Companion (The Etyri?) that could work as a partial model for this--they're 2-meter-tall sentient birds with six limbs (two of which are wings). >> Heck, I'd pay just to see an all-blimp sourcebook, and I _know_ Dave >> Klegman would buy it too! Somehow, I don't think one can cover 150+ pages with just Blimps. An Undercurrents--maybe, but that would get old fast. ;-) >This from the same guy who brought up dolphin crack whores. Either I >need to join one of your games, or you need to be commited. Probably both. Definitely both. --Dave *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Sean Michael Whipkey [highway@cstone.net] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 8:25 AM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - New reviews [OT] At 10:09 PM 4/13/99 -0400, Chris Sakal wrote: > I refuse to recycle my trash for a different reason - about 50-75% of it >gets dumped in landfills anyway, so it really doesn't matter what I do, Heck, the city here is supposed to pick up your recycling. You don't have to pay taxes on recyclables like you do on normal trash. Of course, our trashmen are lazy; we've had the same recycling sitting out, waiting to be picked up along with the neighbor's recycling, for about...I dunno, 6 months. It kinda sucks. SeanMike -- SeanMike Whipkey - Cornerstone Networks Engineering - highway@cstone.net Report received spam to: spam-report@cstone.net with the full headers Cornerstone Networks - 804.817.7000 or 800.325.9848 - http://www.cstone.net "New humans are usually created by other humans, not UNIX processes." - USAH *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Robert P. Stefko [rpsst16@pop.pitt.edu] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 9:37 AM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - New reviews [OT] >Heck, the city here is supposed to pick up your recycling. You don't have >to pay taxes on recyclables like you do on normal trash. Lucky you. My hometown requires residents to recycle, and we have to pay directly for the "service" (which really involves us sorting our own trash, putting it into handy containers, and leaving it out on the curb for a week or two before the garbage man decides he's ready to cart the stuff off — in sociology, we call this the "self-service myth", in which the customer is transformed into free labor). I have no problem with recycling, but I do wish the sanitation workers would actually do a little work to help the process along. *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Adam Lewis [adamswork@yahoo.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 11:25 AM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - Biohazard at GenCon I just read through the pre-reg book for GenCon and I didn't see any BP games ;o( I know that us faithfull fans are suppose to be submitting games and running them ourselves, but isn't Biohazard going to be sponsoring any games? You guys will be there right? === AdamL ===== "I’d like to put football pads on and just go up and down the street diving through plate glass windows!" _________________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Heivilin, Jim [banzai@missouri.edu] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 11:56 AM To: 'blue_planet@mpgn.com' Subject: RE: [BLUE PLANET] - New reviews > -----Original Message----- > From: Robert P. Stefko [mailto:rpsst16@pop.pitt.edu] > Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - New reviews > > Well, actually, I inferred from the material that the Incorporates in > general are exploitative, aggressive, and generally unpleasant entities. Is > there an example of an Incorporate that does not conform to this stereotype? > Both Lavender Organics and HydroSpan have a relatively good reputation and a good relationship with the GEO. Jim H. *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Heivilin, Jim [banzai@missouri.edu] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 12:17 PM To: 'blue_planet@mpgn.com' Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - Environmental considerations (was: New reviews) > -----Original Message----- > From: Adam Lewis [mailto:adamswork@yahoo.com] > Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - New reviews > > Dang, I'm starting to feel quilty about all those > dandilions I weeded from my yard this weekend. I could > have lived in harmony with them just fine, but my > destructive human nature couldn't be contained. > Except, if left unchecked than the dandilions will possibly continue to multiply until they are more numerous than the grass. And your yard will be yellow rather than green. Not very attractive and very bad if you have allergies. So how to control them? Well, we could weed them (very labor intensive) or we could try something else. We could try pesticides. But then dangerous chemicals often leak into the ground water in that case. Okay, we could try "organic" or harmless chemicals. But then we keep having to buy the chemicals and put them on. Also expensive and/or labor intensive. What else can we do? Well, we could try to find an animal that thrives on dandilions. Something that eats them. But what if that animal also eats other plants (like those pretty marigolds or roses your wife planted last weekend). Oops. And what if you get two of them (one male and one female) and they start reproducing. Pretty soon there's a lot of them and they start to overwhelm the other animals in your yard (okay, maybe there's not a lot of 'animals' in your yard, but the concept is valid). And what if there is a sudden increase in an animal that eats the animal we have "weeding" our yard? And what if that animal is dangerous to children also? So you see making one small change in the ecosystem can have a rather dramatic impact. I've been reading articles in National Geographic the last few months. This month there is an article about the Galapogos Islands. It seems that early settlers wanted pork chops so they introduced wild pigs to some of the islands. Now these pigs are destroying other ecosystems and animals which exist no place else on the planet. Jim "Not really an ecoterrorist, really ..." H. *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Heivilin, Jim [banzai@missouri.edu] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 1:32 PM To: 'list, blue planet' Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - Tonight Not of any particular relevance to Blue Planet (other than the personality involved) but National Geographic has a special tonight on the Battle of Midway (Bob Ballard found the U.S.S. Yorktown on May 18, 1998) on TBS at 8:05 EST (7 for those of us in the central time zone). Jim Jim Heivilin, 882-5000 IATS Help Desk, University of Missouri mailto:banzai@missouri.edu http://www.missouri.edu/~ccbanzai *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Tun Kai Poh [t_poh@hotmail.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 2:27 PM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - Zion Music Festival Sourcebook V1.0 The Zion Music Festival Sourcebook, Version 1.0 By Tun Kai Poh * * * I am Francisco Vasquez Garcia I am welcome to Almeria We have sin gas and con leche We have fiesta and feria We have the song of the cochona We have brandy and half corona And Leonardo and his accordione And calamari and macaroni Come all you rambling boys of pleasure And ladies of easy leisure We must say Adios! until we see Almeria once again - The Pogues, "Fiesta" * * * Introduction It is November, 2199. Thousands have converged on the New Rastafarian Movement stronghold and spaceport town, from rowdy teenage music fans to struggling new bands to ecoterrorists to Incorporate-sponsored Earth superstars. Tensions rise and the songs get louder and louder. The Incorporates batten down their hatches and the NRM girds itself for the worst. Rumors of revolution, looting and burning can be heard in the barrooms and back alleys. The fun is only just beginning. This work-in-progress is a collection of Blue Planet setting material for the Zion Music Festival of 2199, a month-long entertainment event held in Kingston. The sourcebook will feature various NPCs and items of interest, including a timeline, and anything else that comes out of my writing of my Blue Planet fan fiction, "Some Die In Kingston." There are a lot of things which I found unable to fit in my story, for instance, which will be included here for the interest of anyone seeking to send a player character group into the riotous maelstrom of celebration and vindication that is the Zion Music Festival. Keep in mind that I still haven't finished writing my story set in the Festival, so the Timeline and events of the Festival are not complete. Of course, feel free to have your version of the Festival diverge from mine as you see fit... * * * Places to Stay Kingston has been swamped with newcomers and natives alike, many of whom camp out on the slopes west of Kingston, or in houseboats filling Annotto Bay. The local hotels are fully booked. Good luck! Hazards Casino Hotel, Cape Fortune - Very good expensive lodgings for up to 1,000. The recent shooting and riots there have caused nearly a hundred people to move out, leaving many vacancies, but fear of ecoterrorist attacks on the Hanover-run hotel keeps many away at the moment. Prospector's Strike Hotel, Cape Fortune - Cheap, decent lodgings for up to 250. Overbooked and fully packed. Many native activists staying here. Kingston Regency Hotel, Cape Fortune - Expensive, three-star hotel. All rooms currently occupied, mostly with Incorporate tourists, but a murder or two (hint, hint to all you GMs out there) might change that. * * * Food and Drink COMING SOON * * * The Saloons The following is a guide for visitors seeking to attend the nightly performances at Kingston's most popular saloons: The Blue Mountain Saloon - Good food, average drink, average gambling. Mostly mainstream performances. The Happy Sunburst - Poor food (except for the caneopoise steaks), good drink, good gambling. Mostly native performances. Marcus Garvey's Bar - Good food (but slow service), average drink, average gambling. Most performers are hopeful unknowns, but occasionally a mainstream act shows up. The Rio de Janeiro - Good food, excellent drink (huge selection including imports), average gambling. However, this place always seems to attract the dregs of the local music industry. * * * Band Profile: The Kraken Girls Holly "Firefly" Underwood (lead singer), Grace Akane (guitar), Vanya Primakov (keyboards) and Ruth Noa (percussion) never meant for their music to be about anything other than old-fashioned fun and games. But early on in the Zion Music Festival, a tragic shooting at the Hazards Casino forced the group to enter the shaky and volatile world of native politics. After two Hanover Security Service officers mistook a prop gun for the real thing and pumped twenty bullets into Ruth Noa, an angry mob ran amuck, killing the HSS men and inflicting half a million scrip worth of damages to the casino. The lowest two floors have had to be closed off for repairs. Meanwhile, the Kraken Girls slapped Hanover with a lawsuit, not expecting to win any damages. However, they soon found themselves approached by activists and political groups like the Stone Bridge Memorial Foundation, not to mention out-and-out violent insurgents like the Sword of Zion and the Children of the Widow. Holly Underwood is now facing conflicting feelings about whether or not to go the outlaw way of bands like Poseidon's Price. Their only hit song (before the shooting) was "Don't Point That Gun At Me," co-written by Holly Underwood and Ruth Noa as a comedy song. The two of them were acting out a skit meant to precede the song when the tragic shooting occurred. * * * NPC/Band Profile: Jeanette Harwati-Colton and Poseidon's Price This land was always ours Was the proud land of our fathers It belongs to us and them Not to any of the others Let them go, boys Let them go, boys Let them go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry - The Pogues, "If I Should Fall From Grace With God" Jeanette Maya Mahsuri Harwati-Colton was born in 2168, the daughter of two well-known native musicians from Atlantis, John Travis Colton and Maya Harwati. She inherited her father's talent at composition and her mother's magnetic personality and anti-Recontact beliefs. Raised from birth on tales of her namesake's mythical exploits, she never doubted her destiny in life. She and her mother joined the Army of Maya Mahsuri in early 2180. The young Harwati-Colton was only 11 years old, but she participated in many of the group's operations, serving as courier, lookout and unofficial mascot. Less than a year later, the organization was broken up by MacLeod Enforcement agents and the members were turned over to the GEO for trial. Jeanette Harwati-Colton escaped serious punishment because of her age, and was separated from her mother to be placed in a GEO-run juvenile detention facility in Haven. This separation was the defining moment in her early life, and it turned her against the GEO and Incorporates for life. She escaped the facility in 2182, and joined a native street gang in the Floats, the 'Skippers. For the next 4 years, she rose through the ranks of the gang by the sheer power of her personality, and gradually turned the activities of her fellow gang members towards anti-GEO vandalism. In 2186, the same year her mother died in prison, a "disagreement" with the leader of the 'Skippers forced Harwati-Colton to flee Haven, and she soon took up with reformed NRM gangster and legendary tribal reggae musician Deon "Blind Man" Malcolm. Malcolm recognized her potential and took her into his band as his protégé, helping her to develop her musical talents over the next three years. During that time, Harwati-Colton followed Malcolm's band across the Pacifica Archipelago, performing with them in back-alley bars, native villages, Incorporate mining towns and even gangster hideouts. The former gang lieutenant blossomed into a brilliant singer-songwriter, capable of electrifying crowds with her powerful lyrics and inventive electronic compositions. As Harwati-Colton grew into adulthood, she restrained her urges to rejoin the growing native resistance movement. Her mentor's pacifist philosophies guided her to direct her energies into music, instead. She eventually developed her musical style far beyond the limitations of Malcolm's traditional tribal style, and in 2189, she reluctantly split with her former mentor. She formed her own band, Poseidon's Price, together with guitarist Abel Ransom and trumpet maestro Jessica DeMarco Vasquez, two of Malcolm's musicians who defected to follow her. As it turned out, Harwati-Colton's music was veering from old tribal to the neo-folk style. Neo-folk, born of the post-Blight era, had arrived from Earth with Recontact, but was now starting to die out. The old neo-folk musicians, all post-Recontact colonists from Earth, had reached creative dead ends, and many were retiring or switching to other musical traditions. What Poseidon's Price did was to merge the tribal sound with neo-folk, adding elements of political protest and native folktales into the lyrics. The result was a potent mixture that brought new life to Poseidon's music scene. The timing was almost perfect, and Poseidon's Price sparked a host of copycat bands who took the new "tribal neo-folk" label and ran with it. Unfortunately, the very group which had started it all soon became lost in a sea of new tribal neo-folk bands. Although Harwati-Colton's creativity always kept the band one step ahead of the rest of the pack, their radical political message made many media broadcasters reluctant to play them, and so they often went unnoticed by the public. Until 2194, the Price was merely a cult favorite band, with a loyal, slowly growing core of fans among Poseidon natives. Harwati-Colton, aware of the band's many ecoterrorist fans, refused to tone down her message, and instead made her songs more and more radical. Agent after agent quit in protest, and it appeared that the band would never break into the mainstream. The band's troubles got worse when Jessica DeMarco Vasquez quit the band to go solo, citing Harwati-Colton's extreme beliefs as her reason. Harwati-Colton was drifting farther and farther away from Deon Malcolm's teachings. Then, a turn of events resulted in the ultimate publicity stunt. It was the storm season of 2194. Poseidon's Price was performing in the Floats of Haven, close to the neighborhood where Harwati-Colton had once run with the 'Skippers. While the band was playing the popular favorite song "Crusade on Kauai," a drunken riot broke out, and a Gendiver truck driver was killed. A local radical group, Native Pride, helped the band evade the authorities. This was the point of no return. Immersed anew in the native resistance movement, Jeanette Harwati-Colton felt like a Nathan Lesear, coming home to the waters of Poseidon. She accepted an invitation to perform at a meeting of the leadership cell of Native Pride. Her music so impressed the leaders of Native Pride that Party Elder Thomas Khalid proposed that the party be reorganized to use the Storm Widow as a symbol to rally native support, with Poseidon's Pride as the group's official band. Harwati-Colton was appointed the Envoy to the People. Word of the Children of the Widow spread. Respectable native elders proclaimed Harwati-Colton a direct descendant of the Storm Widow. A legend was born. Today, Harwati-Colton leads a nomadic life, travelling with Poseidon's Pride across the Archipelago to perform in the most far-flung of native settlements. In some ways, she has come full circle, returning to her roots as a native extremist. In other ways, she is still the travelling neo-folk musician her fans have known for the last ten years, only with an outlaw reputation that makes her all the more exciting to follow. The Price's line-up currently includes former BWC member Paul Ong (percussion) and several other musicians, all members of the Children of the Widow. The band's most famous songs include "Crusade on Kauai," "Prospector's Song" and "Storm Widow's Vow." * * * Band Profile: Sucking Chest Wound With Puvana Led by a voluptuous lead singer who can sing in Hindi but can't understand a word of it, Sucking Chest Wound is an old-fashioned rock band following the style of the popular Hindi rock bands from Bombay who were so successful in the 21st century. MORE COMING SOON * * * Band Profile: Dustbowl Led by Geoff Powell, a grizzled Idaho native who claims to have fought Peter Anton Church in a barroom brawl when both men were teenagers, Dustbowl is an American neo-folk band attempting to follow the traditions of 20th-century folk musicians like Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie. Their most popular song is "Woody Guthrie Sang For You." They came to Poseidon in 2198 and have decided to hang around for a while. MORE COMING SOON * * * NPC Profile: Deon "Blind Man" Malcolm Deon Malcolm is a Zion Island native elder, nearly 70 years of age, and he is a legendary tribal reggae pioneer. Was an NRM lieutenant in his 20s, then swore off violence and became a great musician over the next 40 years. After his brightest proteges, led by Jeanetta Harwati-Colton, turned their back on him and left him abruptly in 2189, he lost his taste for music and retired. Politically neutral, but prefers peace over violence and negotiation over aggression. Rumored to still have NRM contacts who help him maintain a powerful influence in the native music scene. Taught many students, some of whom went on to become the most influential talents of today's music industry, including Jeanette Harwati-Colton, Abel Ransom, Bluffman Tyler, Suzannah Malcolm-Peters and Jessica Vasquez. Malcolm is a native man of African descent, with graying dreadlocks and deep brown skin. He is blind in the left eye and nearly blind in the right eye. He often stares at people with his cataract-ridden eyes in an eerie manner when he converses with them. He has a deep, powerful voice, equally effective in both singing and oration. His most famous songs include "Fork Leaf Girl," "Swim Away" and "Falling Stars." * * * NPC Profile: Bluffman Tyler A tribal neo-folk musician from Kingston. A student of Deon Malcolm's, and a strong supporter of peace talks among rival NRM factions. Also a well-known boat racer, has participated in the Storm Belt 10000 a few times, coming in 2nd place in the most recent race. MORE COMING SOON... * * * NPC Profile: "Sad" Sally Parvin, The Saint of Crystal Parish COMING SOON * * * Timeline (Major performances and other events) Day 1 - Deon Malcolm comes out of retirement for a special concert in the Hydrodome, which is stuffed beyond capacity by his fans. Dustbowl plays at the Blue Mountain Saloon, and Kraken Girls play at the Happy Sunburst. Day 2 - Assorted dolphin musicians play at the Hydrodome. Barbecue stalls set up shop on the Boardwalk after settling rental agreement with Kingston government and the NRM. Andrei Yakhovsky performs at the Hazards Casino. Day 4 - Jessica Thorn sings at the Hydrodome to a sold-out crowd. Sucking Chest Wound plays a free show on the Boardwalk and gets a surprisingly good reception. Day 5 - Ruth Noa shot at Hazards Casino; angry mob of fans kills two HSS officers and wrecks the main music hall on the second floor, then devastates the gaming rooms in a fierce rampage. Damages total about half a million scrip. Day 7 - Bluffman Tyler performs at the Hydrodome, Crest plays at Garvey's Bar. Native activists from the Stone Bridge Memorial Foundation and other groups come to Kingston to attend Ruth Noa's funeral, and to announce a special concert on Day 16 of the festival, in her memory, to feature numerous native protest singers. Day 8 - Zion Tribal Music Awards held in the Hydrodome. Jessica Thorn and her fellow cast members from the CommCore drama Poseidon Patrol hold a private party at the Happy Sunburst bar following her winning of the Best Reggae Performance Award (Female). Damages total 200,000 scrip. Day 11 - CommCore message boards flooded by rumors that Poseidon's Price is coming to Kingston to play at the Ruth Noa memorial concert. Incorporates issue travel warning for Kingston. NRM spokespersons claim that security will not be a problem. Shenzhen Roses play at the Rio de Janeiro. Day 12 - Anonymous CommCore pictures link Hanover Industries to human rights abuses in Westcape; native activists organize protest rallies in Kingston, disrupting a planned neo-folk festival in the Hydrodome. Day 13 - Suzannah Malcolm-Peters plays at the Blue Mountain. Local dolphin bookie rumored to have set odds that the planned Asuka Schneider concert on Day 30 will be cancelled, at 50 to 1, for. Day 14 - Crest plays the Blue Mountain Saloon, Los Loco Romanticos play at Rio, Sucking Chest Wound plays at Garvey's Bar, but attendance is low due to the live broadcast of Asuka Schneider's Haven concert. Day 15 - Gertrude Baum found dead at dawn in Volkhaus. Anti-Hanover protests occur at the Spaceport and other locations in Kingston. Deon Malcolm issues a press statement pleading for peace. Day 16 - The Ruth Noa memorial concert, held in a warehouse in Eastbay. Surprise guests show up in droves, and Poseidon's Price makes an appearance. The NRM tries to shut the concert down, leading to widespread looting and burning. MORE TO COME... * * * There is a minstrel, there you see, And he stoppeth one in three He whispers in this one's ear "Will you kindly kill that doll for me" Now he has won cochona in the bingo All the town has watched this crazy gringo As he pulls off the doll's head laughing And imiraldo! throws its body in the sea Come all you rambling boys of pleasure And ladies of easy leisure We must say Adios! until we see Almeria once again - The Pogues, "Fiesta" * * * Headlines and excerpts from CTN: Zion Music Festival Kicks Off KINGSTON: Amid allegations of interference by the NRM and a controversy over the structural integrity of the Kingston Hydrodome, the first annual Zion Music Festival began today, in the district capital. Legendary tribal reggae pioneer Deon "Blind Man" Malcolm emerged from retirement to perform before a cheering, dancing crowd of approximately 30,800 in the packed-to-bursting Hydrodome. Fireworks burst overhead, while bands from all over the Archipelago entertained tens of thousands of ticketless fans on the Boardwalk. Although the festival was officially organized by Kingston government officials, the influence of the NRM has been felt many times in the past few months. Certainly, NRM factions have shown their support for the festival from the start. But some Incorporate music labels are grumbling about payoffs, extortion and threats to performers. And NRM politics have barred several "unwanted" reggae groups from playing at the festival. Finally, a fierce statement last week by NRM lieutenant Roberto McKay heightened suspicions that the festival could serve as a cover for mass gatherings of some of Poseidon's most notorious ecoterrorist groups. In his words: "It will be a convention of our world's greatest freedom fighters." Additional controversy has arisen because of an announcement by the architect of the Kingston Hydrodome, William Corwin, who claimed earlier this week that the Hydrodome was "unsafe for seating over the 29,500 seat capacity." Many of the festival's sponsors, including Hanover Industries, have raised questions of safety, but Kingston officials have thus far dismissed Corwin's statements as "nonsense." None of this has deterred hordes of music lovers from all over the Archipelago, who have been converging on Kingston and the surrounding area over the past week. Some came by sailboat, some by dolphinback, and some by expensive jumpcraft. One group of gangly native youths claims to have paddled a raft all the way from the Sierra Nueva Cluster! Already, the surrounding countryside is dotted with makeshift tents, and houseboats fill Annotto Bay. Town officials are at a loss to handle the sudden influx of new arrivals. The most conservative estimates place their number at 6,000, although some cite four times that figure. In the coming month, the festival will highlight every musical style on the planet: tribal reggae, dolphin song, neo-folk, post-electronic abstract, revival pop and experimental biorhythm, among others. Major venues such as the Hazards Casino and the Hydrodome have scores of top-billed performers on their schedule, and many shows are already sold out. But you don't even have to buy a ticket to enjoy the music: every night, numerous struggling unknowns will be putting on free shows all along the Broadwalk, in hope of getting signed by a major label. To top it all off, Bavarian pop superstar Asuka Schneider is set to play in the Hydrodome at the end of this month, in the sold-out closing show of the festival. It will be the second leg of her historic first concert tour of Poseidon, which begins in Haven in two weeks. - Gail Arthur, CTN/net Tragic Shooting Bloodies Festival KINGSTON: Barely a week into the Zion Music Festival, a tragic misunderstanding at the Hazards Casino in Kingston yesterday left three dead and 16 injured. According to eyewitnesses, Hanover Security Service officers mistook a prop gun for the real thing and opened fire on Ruth Noa, a tribal reggae musician performing on stage, killing her instantly. During the performance, Noa, percussionist for the band Kraken Girls, pointed and fired a realistic toy gun at the lead singer, as part of a mock argument meant to be a skit between songs. Apparently unaware of the skit, two HSS guards fired some twenty rounds into Noa, without warning, in front of a horrified audience of hundreds. Enraged fans fell upon the two guards, beating and stabbing them to death. Sixteen people were injured in the ensuing riot before authorities could bring the situation under control. Damages to the Hazards Casino are estimated to be around 500,000 cs. The surviving Kraken Girls have announced their intention to sue the HSS. Hanover Industries spokesperson Gertrude Baum announced that the HSS would contest the suit, and that all visitors would be issued full refunds. "We also vehemently deny allegations that the HSS officers were so-called 'trigger-happy veterans' freshly transferred from a hypothetical combat zone," she said. She went on to deny anonymous Commcore rumors stating that Hanover Industries has been concealing severe manpower losses brought on by dangerous operations in Westcape. - Gail Arthur, CTN/net Malcolm Proteges Dominate Zion Tribal Music Awards KINGSTON: Yesterday, as the wild and turbulent Zion Music Festival went into its second week, thousands of tribal reggae and neo-folk fans gathered in the Kingston Hydrodome for the native-only 2199 Zion Tribal Music Awards. To the surprise of many, tribal voters awarded three of the six coveted Best Performance awards to performers with ties to tribal reggae pioneer Deon Malcolm, including Poseidon's Price and Bluffman Tyler. The most controversial award-winner was Poseidon's Price, which won Best Neo-Folk Performance (Band) for the pirate radio hit "Storm Widow's Vow." The band was unable to attend. Founded in 2189 by maverick proteges of Deon Malcolm, Poseidon's Price is on the run from the GEO and Incorporate security agencies for its involvement in the ecoterrorist group known as The Children of The Widow. Another absentee, Douglas J. Jones, barred from Kingston by the NRM, won Best Neo-Folk Performance (Male) for "Dancing In The Photic Zone." Suzannah Malcolm-Peters, Deon Malcolm's niece, received the award for Best Neo-Folk Performance (Female) for "Rain Shadow." The Best Reggae Performance (Band) award went to "Don't Point That Gun At Me" by the Kraken Girls, largely due to a massive last-minute sympathy vote following the tragic shooting death of band member Ruth Noa last week. Bluffman Tyler won Best Reggae Performance (Male) for his update of his mentor Deon Malcolm's classic hit "Fork Leaf Girl." Best Reggae Performance (Female) was won by singer-actress Jessica Thorn for "She Got Water." The dominance of Deon Malcolm's proteges in the 2199 awards has led many musicians to question the integrity of the voting process. Although Malcolm has not been an NRM member for decades, his critics say he uses his NRM contacts to wield considerable power in the tribal music scene. Malcolm has denied these allegations. - Gail Arthur, CTN/net Incorporates Issue Travel Warning For Kingston KINGSTON: Fearful of an increased native insurgent and ecoterrorist presence in the normally Incorporate-friendly colonial town, Hanover Industries and Lavender Organics have issued travel warnings to their citizens in Kingston. An estimated ten to fifteen thousand visitors have arrived in Kingston for the Zion Music Festival, including at least a thousand natives from various hotspots in the Pacifica Archipelago. Rumors of an "ecoterrorist convention" have circulated on the street ever since the festival was announced at the end of 2198. Hanover Industries spokesperson Gertrude Baum said: "We advise all Hanover citizens in Kingston to spend their off-duty hours only within the Volkhaus arcology, until the festival is over in two weeks. During this time, additional security measures will be taken at important facilities, including Kingston Spaceport." She refused to comment on whether or not Asuka Schneider's highly anticipated concert would be canceled because of security problems. The sold-out concert is scheduled to take place in the Hydrodome on the final day of the festival. Lavender Organics security captain Karim Shah announced that LavOrg citizens were advised against visiting the Incorporate's facilities in Kingston in the immediate future. When asked about why the warnings were only being issued now, he said: "We had already anticipated some additional security demands, but recent events have forced us to upgrade our risk estimates." In response to the Incorporate announcements, NRM spokesperson Thomas Strong denied that there was any threat of ecoterrorist attacks, and insisted that the NRM was capable of ensuring peace and order in Kingston. The number of Incorporate citizens applying for reassignment from Kingston skyrocketed following the recent slaying of tribal reggae musician Ruth Noa by the Hanover Security Service. The killing has sparked outrage in the native community, and ecoterrorist band Poseidon's Price is rumored to be coming to the Zion Music Festival to perform a memorial concert for Noa. - Gail Arthur, CTN/net MORE TO COME... _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Tun Kai Poh [t_poh@hotmail.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 2:32 PM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - SDIK Part 8! Some Die In Kingston, Part 8: The Patrolman's Geas By Tun Kai Poh Some time after midnight, Carol Due sits at a corner table in Tom Keats' Pizza, a converted warehouse in Haven's Brighton neighborhood, waiting for the patrolman to show up. There's a cold slice of rubber shrimp-and-mushroom pizza on her plate, and she's already gone through two bottles of imported San Miguel and half a bottle of Kingston Gold Label. On the dance floor, a hundred kids dance to the newest Asuka Schneider single, 'I'm Fusing My Heart To His.' Carol is sick of the song. She heard it on the plane coming here, because the pilot, Sgt. Karl Dietrich of the HSS, was a big fan who had it playing on continuous loop. She heard it playing over the radio in the coroner's office. She heard it echoing from the Coliseum earlier in the night, when Asuka Schneider's concert was in full swing. And now the DJ here is playing it for the third time. It's a bouncy, happy song with bland machine-written lyrics. Carol doesn't need this right now. She's had a bad day. And it's not over yet. * * * She smelled something wrong the moment she set foot in Haven. Too many people. The colonial capital had grown since she'd been there last, its population swelling to half a million. There are a thousand ways for a person to disappear in Haven. Carol knew many of them. She looked up old acquaintances in nightclubs and bars where she'd once worked or visited, chatting up bartenders and waitresses and strippers. She talked to people in clubs where Vasquez had once played, and apartments where Vasquez was last known to live. She spent all the daylight hours asking around fruitlessly, before realizing she'd forgotten to eliminate the most obvious possibility first. She went to the morgue. The coroner, Dr. Lisa Cornelius, was glad to help. "There are plenty of Nate and Jessie Does here who never get identified. Mostly natives, because so many of them won't register with GEO databases. No birth records, few license registrations of any kind. Unless they've had criminal records, DNA and fingerprint typing are rendered useless. But if you have a picture, that could help." She recognized the old image Carol showed her. "I think I've seen that one before...yes, Jessie Doe #37. It would be hard to forget that one. Come down to the freezer and I can show you." Carol knew even before the coroner showed her the frozen body. The face matched the one in the picture. The file said she was only forty-five Earth years old, but she looked at least ten years older. The room suddenly stank of antiseptic and she felt dizzy. "Say, are you all right? If this is too much, I can -" "No, I'm fine. When did she die?" "A late night patrol found this one in the Floats a few weeks ago. As you can see, she was shot twice in the abdomen with what looks like explosive-tipped handgun rounds. This one was still alive when the patrolmen found her, playing a trumpet, would you believe it? Blown almost clean in half, guts hanging out, and she's playing a trumpet like a maniac." The coroner shook her head. "Died before the EMT arrived. What a way to go." Carol regarded the body detachedly, her hands behind her back. She felt a potent, inexplicable urge to reach out and touch the ragged wound, to run a finger along the frozen flesh of the torn opening. But she controlled herself. "Cause of death was pretty obvious, but I did not have to look too hard at the liver to see that this one was already drinking herself to death." "Advanced cirrhosis?" "Precisely. So, who was she?" Carol thought about her answer before deciding to go with the truth. "Her name's Jessica DeMarco Vasquez. She was a musician from Kingston. She used to play in Poseidon's Price. I met her once, a long time ago, but we didn't talk." Seeing the blank expression on the coroner's face, she added: "A student of Deon Malcolm's. Tribal reggae?" "I've never heard of that one, either. I don't listen to tribal music." Asuka Schneider blared from the radio nearby. Carol sighed. "Was there anything on her?" "Besides the trumpet, no. Do you want to claim it for the relatives?" Carol told her that she was working for a friend of the deceased, not the relatives, and yeah, if possible, she'd like to claim both body and trumpet. She wasn't sure why she said this. Dr. Lisa Cornelius nodded slowly. "There's some red tape, but it shouldn't be too much of a hassle." She took out a bodycomp and composed the death certificate. "What was that name again? Jessica DeMarco..." "...Vasquez." "It would have to be a Jessica, wouldn't it? And a Jessie DeMarco, at that. It figures. I don't suppose Kingston authorities had her birth certificate?" "I doubt it," Carol said. Vasquez was born before they started keeping detailed records in Kingston. The most detailed file on Vasquez extant was probably the one Gertrude Baum had given her, but she didn't mention this. "Okay, I will see what I can do about the body. Maybe I can give you a call tomorrow. What's your number?" She listened raptly and took down one of Carol's anonymous CommCore numbers. "I can get you the trumpet now, if you'll just wait here for a moment. It's not like anyone cares what happens to these things." The native-made trumpet was small and tarnished. Carol handled it gingerly, as though it could bite, and thanked the coroner. "Not a problem. One more small mystery solved. Sorry you found what you were looking for. Well, sorry you found it here, anyway..." Something in the way her voice trailed off bothered Carol. She stared at the coroner. "Is there something...?" "I don't know," the coroner said distractedly. She seemed to stare into the distance for a while, then turned back to Carol with a start. "Well, okay, yes there is. There's a friend of mine. Martin Hauser. He's one of the patrolmen who found this one. You could, maybe, talk to him." "What about?" "He's seen plenty of things. But nothing like this. He saw...something...that night, and it got him really upset. He got a bit obsessed with this one. He asked me to let him know if I found out who this one -" She caught herself and laughed nervously. "There I go again. I mean, who _she_ was." Carol didn't reply, but Dr. Lisa Cornelius persisted. "He'd want to know who she was. It would mean a lot to him." * * * Carol wonders what she's doing here in Tom Keats' Pizza. Not that it's a bad place; take away the trendy music and the kids on the dance floor and it's all right. It's no Tidewater Grill, but it's all right. There's good food and good beer, and the staff seems decent enough. But it's over. She's failed before she even had a chance to begin. She should be gone, just pack it up and meet the HSS men down in the harbor and get a ride back home. What was she even doing here? It's not like it took all her skills to find a dead woman in a morgue. Hah. Why, Dietrich and Stoltz could have done it. Still, she's here, isn't she? She's here to find out what the patrolman saw that night. Martin Luther Hauser turns out to be a handsome young blonde man of what might be German descent, with a sharp bony chin and worried blue eyes. Carol sees something strange in his gait, in the way he carries himself. He's not Earthborn. There's a bit of native in him, she thinks. And he looks weary, tired, in need of sleep. The patrolman slowly makes his way past the dancers and waves to the man behind the bar with the relaxed openness of a regular customer. Tom Keats waves back. "You've got someone here to see you!" he shouts over the din of the music, nudging his head towards Carol's table. She gets up and shakes his hand, introduces herself. He nods, says something about Dr. Lisa Cornelius giving him a call, to tell him that Carol would meet him at his usual spot. She can't hear over the din of the music. He suggests they get out, get some air. First he orders something to go from Keats, and Carol has to wait a while, exchanging awkward looks with him, unable to converse. Impatient, he nervously takes out a small silver cigarette kit and rolls a smoke. She watches his skilful fingers. He's good at this. Carol can't stand the smoke any more than she can stand the music, so after a short while, she steps over to the bar and buys a six-pack of San Miguel, imported all the way from Earth, as a gift for her sister back in Kingston. It's expensive, but she's on an expense account, isn't she? Martin's pizza comes in a bagged box. He pays, then they leave, carrying their purchases. The night air is cool and fresh. The Brighton neighborhood is mostly quiet, as if everyone has partied to exhaustion in the wake of the concert, and now there is no energy left. "I just got off crowd control near the Coliseum," Martin explains, crushing his cigarette into the top of a footbridge railing and flicking it into the water below. "The Hydrodome only holds 75,000 people, but we had a great many more than that coming into the area just to hear Asuka playing live for free." "Rough night?" "Not too bad. They were pretty focused, obsessed with the music, and they didn't cause too much trouble, except a few drunk cases here and there. But it took them hours just to disperse. If the HSS hadn't been there to help, we would've been swamped." He takes out the kit, opens it on the railing, and swiftly rolls dried tobacco and paper into another cigarette. He does this with one hand, while he holds the bagged pizza in the other. "Damn. You're good at this." "Yeah. So, Ms. Due, did Dr. Cornelius show you the body?" "Yeah, she did." "You know who it is, then?" She says so, and tells him who the Jessie Doe is. He just stands there, smoking and listening, until she's done. "Reggae musician from Kingston? What was she doing in the Floats?" "Besides drinking herself to death? Hah. Who knows?" "She must have been good. A good musician, I mean. She could have done better than that." "Oh? How do you know she was good?" Martin sighs and his shoulders slump. "I heard her play when she died. Okay, where do I start?" * * * Martin Luther Hauser and Ted Rowan were beat cops in the GEO Patrol, working the graveyard shift in the Floats. Sooner or later, every cop who walks the Floats steals a bite at one of the disreputable open-air eating spots that makes Fork Leaf Canal famous. The roast yams of Fork Leaf Canal are culinary treasures, lumps of charred yet moist carbohydrates wrapped in dried kelp strips and drowned in rich sweet hexa boar gravy. Not Earth yams, but rather the yam-like roots of the ubiquitous fork leaf plant, which the first settlers on Poseidon had discovered to be highly edible once they'd cooked it a while over a wood fire. Every village in the Haven Cluster has a different recipe, but somehow, the native cooks with the best yam recipes always gravitated to that one particular canal in the worst part of Haven. Martin Hauser had grown up in Second Try, his father a native, his mother one of the first newcomer colonists. He'd grown up with a taste for native food, so he was easily drawn to Fork Leaf Canal. And the food there was better than home cooking ever had been. "We were eating at a really popular 30-hour place called the Fork Leaf Girl. There were always a few native fishermen or drunk college kids coming in to eat. I had finished my meal, a nice small roast yam, but Rowan had ordered two big grilled trident fish and a whole plate of yams for himself, so I killed time looking at pictures on the wall. They were pictures of famous people who'd visited the place before the crime problem had gotten real bad. The centerpiece was a hologram of Blind Man Malcolm smiling a gap-toothed smile and shaking the owner's hand. I wondered if he'd risk getting shot to eat here today. I sure wouldn't do it without my armor vest and sidearm..." Proteus was nearly full in the sky, but the low rumbling clouds hid it from view. The rain began to pour down, as it often did this time of the morning, drenching the shanties and the makeshift tarp shelters that the homeless floaters stayed in. There were still a few people up and about along the canals, some talking loudly. Martin Hauser believed that the loud ones were the dangerous ones, because they obviously didn't feel they had to hide from anyone. Carol knew better, but didn't interrupt. "I was thinking about putting in for a transfer out of the Floats when we heard the two gunshots. This was almost routine around here, this time of the morning. But we had to go and look anyway. Rowan pushed his plate away and jumped to his feet. We abandoned our table without paying and ran in the direction of the noise. Cops don't usually pay for the food on Fork Leaf Canal. I don't know that the Patrol ever asked the proprietors here if they minded, and I think they did, but we did it anyway. Tradition." Rowan led the way through the rain, storming along walkways and rope bridges from one dimly lit float to the next, with pistol drawn. Getting around here was always precarious. The patrolmen switched their visors to night vision to make sure they didn't end up in the water two and a half meters below. The shanties loomed on either side of the walkways. Shanties made of sheet metal, low-grade foamed bioplastic, and wood. Shanties on stilts. Shanties built on bridges between floats. Shanties filled with hungry jobless families and wailing babies. Shanties on top of shanties on top of shanties. "Then we heard the music. It was a weak trumpet solo and it kind of swerved from one melody to another like a bad improvisation, you know? It sounded like - this will sound stupid, but it's what popped into my head - it sounded like a badly wounded dog howling, the saddest sound in the world. It came in starts and stops, like the player was short of breath and had to take breaks. Sometimes it sounded desperate and rushed, and at the same time some of it sounded very deliberate, very carefully played. "The hair on the back of my neck was standing up when we went across the footbridge and turned the corner. When I saw the woman I couldn't move. She was just sitting twisted against a wall, shot real bad in the stomach, in a pool of her own blood, with the rain coming down around her, and she was playing that trumpet." Her face was narrow and pointed and framed with gray hair. The eyes were watery brown and wide open, lost in some other world that the patrolmen could not see. She could have been pretty, once. Her skinny torso, clad in a ragged, blood-soaked, faded green dress, was fairly shredded, and her insides had tumbled out into her lap. She was rapidly bleeding to death. Her fingers were clenched tightly around the crude old trumpet. They approached her, spoke to her, but she was oblivious to everything except the siren's song which poured out of her faster than the blood. She took sharp breaths through her nose and played her offering to some unseen audience in the roiling heavens above. She played pain and regret and disappointment and desperation and futility. "Rowan didn't know what to do. He just growled something and called the EMT. I knelt there and tried to pry the trumpet from her, but she had it in a death grip. All the time, the notes were getting higher and longer and her eyes were wide open and suddenly she stopped, it was finished, and she just froze." * * * "She was dead?" Carol asks. "Dead." * * * HSS plainclothes officers Johann Stoltz and Karl Dietrich are sitting on a couple of overturned cargo crates in a shack. The shack is located next to a rented landing pad on the waterfront with a Hanover Autoworks Rook-III VTOL parked on it. They've been ordered to remain in town until Carol Due finds the woman Vasquez, and then they're to provide transportation back to Kingston. To pass the time, they're staying up to watch Poseidon Extra Late on bodycomp. Joey Lester and Kim Sun trade quips animatedly on the holographic display, with their dialogue being automatically translated into German for the benefit of the HSS officers. The jokes focusing on the events of Asuka Schneider's concert are pretty funny considering that they must have been written two hours ago, at most. The short one, Stoltz, points this out. The tall one, Dietrich, looks at him askance. "No way. I thought Joey Lester made it all up himself. You know, on the spot?" "What, are you kidding? Of course he has writers! Everyone has writers! It's like Asuka, do you think she writes her own songs, scripts her own movies? Don't you ever read the credits?" "Nah, that's boring. I always tell my bodycomp to filter them out." "Philistine." Joey Lester gets on to the first big skit before the guest interviews, and manages to sneak a Gertrude Baum joke into his act. Dietrich laughs at this. He always laughs at the Gertrude Baum jokes. Stoltz just snorts and shakes his head. The watchdog system on the VTOL goes off, sounding a loud alarm from both their bodycomps. "See who that is," Stoltz says. "Just when it's getting really good..." Dietrich reluctantly gets up and leans lazily against a window, looking out. "It's some woman coming up the ramp." "Is it Due? She said she'd call if -" The transparent bioplastic ruptures with a pop and the tall man falls back with blood streaming from a hole in his forehead. Stoltz curses and jumps away from the windows, drawing a gun. More popping noises. The front of the shack is rapidly perforated by the silent gunfire. Stoltz gets off two wild shots before he dies. The gunman calmly steps up to the side of the parked VTOL and taps a code into its keypad, resetting the security systems. Then she turns, reloads her SMG, and walks inside the shack. On the bodycomp, the audience laughs louder and louder as Joey Lester reads off a list of new nicknames for Gertrude Baum (in German). The gunman smiles thinly, shuts down the bodycomp, and pockets it. * * * The music haunted him. The terrible song remained in his ears that morning when he got off shift and tried to fall asleep in his apartment in Old Town. It played through his mind the next day, and the day after that. Even after he transferred out of the Floats. It had somehow infected him, just from one listening. He did not know how this had happened. In the cold of the coroner's office, he talked to Lisa Cornelius about it, but it didn't do him any good. Sometimes, when it was real quiet, he found himself trying to compose lyrics to go with it. "It's driving me crazy. The memory of her, of her song, it's been driving me crazy." He reaches for his cigarette kit, then changes his mind. "It probably sounds absurd, doesn't it?" "I don't know. But then, I didn't hear the song, did I?" Martin Luther Hauser glances at Carol, one eyebrow raised, then begins to whistle loud and clear. He's memorized it. He knows it by heart. It's the strangest thing she has ever heard. It sets her on edge, like when she sees a flash of lightning before the thunderclap comes. She finds that she's clenching her hands into fists just listening to it. "One second." She takes out her bodycomp and starts recording. "Whistle that again, will you?" He does. When she's finished recording, they draw apart, tense and awkward in the relative silence of the Haven night. Somewhere far away, a door slams loudly. Jet skis buzz in the harbor. Gunshots echo across the waters from the Floats. A baby cries. "Why did she die?" he asks. "I don't know." "Why kill her? Why shoot her like a dog and leave her half-alive?" "I don't know." "Do you want to find out?" She locks eyes with him. "Do you?" He reddens a little. "You know I do. That song of hers has me and it won't let go. I have to know what happened. I have to know why she died." "How? It happened weeks ago. You didn't see anything then, and we sure won't find anything now." "Who hired you to find her? Who was looking for her?" "Does it matter?" "It matters a great deal. There has to have been some reason why both you and the killer went looking for an old has-been musician who was wandering the Floats, homeless." "Maybe it was an accident or mistaken identity," she says, testing him. "Maybe it was a joy killing. You know kids these days. Anything for fun." "Nonsense." "I thought you were a cop. You would have seen it." "No. Nobody kills without a reason." Carol thinks of the Jessylinda of five years ago, and considers again the young patrolman's naivete. "I've seen it happen." "Are you going to tell me who hired you and why? Or is there some client's privacy you have to protect?" He sets his jaw, looks away over the water, then looks back at her. "Okay, you want money? I'll hire you to find out." "To find out what?" "Why she had to die. Who was looking for her." It must be the beer, Carol thinks. Two bottles of San Miguel and half a bottle of Gold Label. She sees images of smoke. Gertrude Baum is a demon on her back. Her brother's ghost calls to her over the span of nineteen long years. Jessylinda sits beside her on a bridge in Second Try, saying goodbye. She's in the cold morgue, running a finger along a dead native woman's torn belly. This smells wrong. She shouldn't get in any deeper. There's nothing she wants to go digging for. And the payoff Gertrude promised isn't going to materialize this way. It probably never existed, she tells herself. He's dead. But then there's the haunting, discordant tune that Martin whistled. "Five hundred scrip a day. I'll find out what I can and I'll tell you what I can. No guarantees this will lead anywhere. And one more thing: could you roll me one of those cigarettes?" "I didn't know anyone else still smoked." "I don't. I just want to see how you do it one-handed." She blinks away a surprising tear and catches her breath. It's happening to her. She's caught in the same mad song that has ensnared the patrolman. And the only way to get out is to follow the song back to its source. * * * By the time the Patrol investigates the shack on the waterfront, it's early in the morning and Lambda Serpentis is about to rise and shine. They find two unidentified men in the shack, riddled by armor-piercing bullets. There's a fully fueled VTOL sitting on the pad, untouched. Carol is long gone. She took one look and ran like Hell. She's in a hotel room somewhere in Old Town. Nobody knows she's here, not even Jessylinda. She scoped out the place twice, checked it for its accessibility. Nobody knows her here, so nobody can betray her; she doesn't trust any of her old friends in Haven. The beer is in the fridge. She's lying on a couch pulled up to the back window, which has been unlocked in case she needs to make a quick exit. She's thinking. Someone tracked down and executed Jessica Vasquez. Someone knows she's here, and that someone probably knows exactly why she's here. The plainclothesmen were taken out quickly and professionally. Gertrude isn't the only player in this game after all. Carol hates the games that the powerful madmen play as they gaze down from their lofty towers, hates the sacrifice of pawns and the moves and counter-moves that benefit nobody but the players. It's time someone kicked over the chess table. Might as well be her. She sits up on the edge of the couch, yawning. Going to need caffeine tabs. She takes out her bodycomp and looks again at Martin Hauser's phone number, but she knows better than to call him. Leave him be for now, she thinks. Let the night shift sleep. Out of curiosity she opens the drawer of the bedside table. Inside, two plastic forks and an old-fashioned hardcover paper book. She takes the book out and checks the inside cover. "'Placed by the Gideons,'" she says. "Should have known." Then she turns on the wallscreen and checks the morning news. (Copyright Tun Kai Poh, 1999. The Blue Planet setting and concepts are the copyright of Biohazard Games. Poseidon Extra Late and Joey Lester created by Eva Piltch) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Tun Kai Poh [t_poh@hotmail.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 2:39 PM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - Critter questions Andy wrote: >Hmm...I may have to steal that idea. Actually, I've stolen many of your >ideas and characters: Gertrude Baum, the Kingston Music Festival and >Kraken Girls(who will feature in my next adventure, but I'm not quite >sure how), this idea, and a few of the adventures that were written up. Funny thing...this message of yours was what persuaded me to put my notes (and a portion of an unpublished Undercurrents article) together into the Zion Music Festival Sourcebook document... Please feel free to steal as much as you want from my material! Kai _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Tun Kai Poh [t_poh@hotmail.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 2:50 PM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - SDIK-related business I forgot to mention: my newest Some Die In Kingston installment mentions a new Joey Lester monologue on the CommCore show Poseidon Extra Late. Well, this monologue does in fact exist; it was put up on Eva Piltch's Blue Planet site just a day or so ago. Check it out. While you're there, also be sure to see Joey Lester's illuminating interview with famed ecologist Nelson Ifube, co-written by Eva and yours truly... Kai Poh, Malaysian Lagomorph. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Greg Benage [gbenage@ix.netcom.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 6:27 PM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: Re: [BLUE PLANET] - Biohazard at GenCon -----Original Message----- From: Adam Lewis To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Date: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 9:33 AM Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - Biohazard at GenCon > >I just read through the pre-reg book for GenCon and I >didn't see any BP games ;o( > >I know that us faithfull fans are suppose to be >submitting games and running them ourselves, but isn't >Biohazard going to be sponsoring any games? > >You guys will be there right? We'll be there. And I'm sure we'll have a new scenario or two, we just haven't put it together in time for inclusion in the pre-reg book. Thanks, Greg Benage Biohazard Games *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Tun Kai Poh [t_poh@hotmail.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 8:58 PM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - SDIK 8 and ZMF Sourcebook? Something fishy's going on here. I _know_ I sent SDIK Part 8 and the Zion Music Festival Sourcebook document to the list before I sent this post, but the two items seem to have gone AWOL. Jim, are they on a queue somethere or should I repost them here? Kai Poh, Malaysian Lagomorph >I forgot to mention: my newest Some Die In Kingston installment >mentions a new Joey Lester monologue on the CommCore show Poseidon >Extra Late. Well, this monologue does in fact exist; it was put up on >Eva Piltch's Blue Planet site just a day or so ago. Check it out. >While you're there, also be sure to see Joey Lester's illuminating >interview with famed ecologist Nelson Ifube, co-written by Eva and >yours truly... > > > >Kai Poh, Malaysian Lagomorph. > > >_______________________________________________________________ >Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com >********************************************************************* ****** >To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line >'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Tun Kai Poh [t_poh@hotmail.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 9:18 PM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - Repost: ZMF Sourcebook (LONG) The Zion Music Festival Sourcebook, Version 1.0 By Tun Kai Poh * * * I am Francisco Vasquez Garcia I am welcome to Almeria We have sin gas and con leche We have fiesta and feria We have the song of the cochona We have brandy and half corona And Leonardo and his accordione And calamari and macaroni Come all you rambling boys of pleasure And ladies of easy leisure We must say Adios! until we see Almeria once again - The Pogues, "Fiesta" * * * Introduction It is November, 2199. Thousands have converged on the New Rastafarian Movement stronghold and spaceport town, from rowdy teenage music fans to struggling new bands to ecoterrorists to Incorporate-sponsored Earth superstars. Tensions rise and the songs get louder and louder. The Incorporates batten down their hatches and the NRM girds itself for the worst. Rumors of revolution, looting and burning can be heard in the barrooms and back alleys. The fun is only just beginning. This work-in-progress is a collection of Blue Planet setting material for the Zion Music Festival of 2199, a month-long entertainment event held in Kingston. The sourcebook will feature various NPCs and items of interest, including a timeline, and anything else that comes out of my writing of my Blue Planet fan fiction, "Some Die In Kingston." There are a lot of things which I found unable to fit in my story, for instance, which will be included here for the interest of anyone seeking to send a player character group into the riotous maelstrom of celebration and vindication that is the Zion Music Festival. Keep in mind that I still haven't finished writing my story set in the Festival, so the Timeline and events of the Festival are not complete. Of course, feel free to have your version of the Festival diverge from mine as you see fit... * * * Places to Stay Kingston has been swamped with newcomers and natives alike, many of whom camp out on the slopes west of Kingston, or in houseboats filling Annotto Bay. The local hotels are fully booked. Good luck! Hazards Casino Hotel, Cape Fortune - Very good expensive lodgings for up to 1,000. The recent shooting and riots there have caused nearly a hundred people to move out, leaving many vacancies, but fear of ecoterrorist attacks on the Hanover-run hotel keeps many away at the moment. Prospector's Strike Hotel, Cape Fortune - Cheap, decent lodgings for up to 250. Overbooked and fully packed. Many native activists staying here. Kingston Regency Hotel, Cape Fortune - Expensive, three-star hotel. All rooms currently occupied, mostly with Incorporate tourists, but a murder or two (hint, hint to all you GMs out there) might change that. * * * Food and Drink COMING SOON * * * The Saloons The following is a guide for visitors seeking to attend the nightly performances at Kingston's most popular saloons: The Blue Mountain Saloon - Good food, average drink, average gambling. Mostly mainstream performances. The Happy Sunburst - Poor food (except for the caneopoise steaks), good drink, good gambling. Mostly native performances. Marcus Garvey's Bar - Good food (but slow service), average drink, average gambling. Most performers are hopeful unknowns, but occasionally a mainstream act shows up. The Rio de Janeiro - Good food, excellent drink (huge selection including imports), average gambling. However, this place always seems to attract the dregs of the local music industry. * * * Band Profile: The Kraken Girls Holly "Firefly" Underwood (lead singer), Grace Akane (guitar), Vanya Primakov (keyboards) and Ruth Noa (percussion) never meant for their music to be about anything other than old-fashioned fun and games. But early on in the Zion Music Festival, a tragic shooting at the Hazards Casino forced the group to enter the shaky and volatile world of native politics. After two Hanover Security Service officers mistook a prop gun for the real thing and pumped twenty bullets into Ruth Noa, an angry mob ran amuck, killing the HSS men and inflicting half a million scrip worth of damages to the casino. The lowest two floors have had to be closed off for repairs. Meanwhile, the Kraken Girls slapped Hanover with a lawsuit, not expecting to win any damages. However, they soon found themselves approached by activists and political groups like the Stone Bridge Memorial Foundation, not to mention out-and-out violent insurgents like the Sword of Zion and the Children of the Widow. Holly Underwood is now facing conflicting feelings about whether or not to go the outlaw way of bands like Poseidon's Price. Their only hit song (before the shooting) was "Don't Point That Gun At Me," co-written by Holly Underwood and Ruth Noa as a comedy song. The two of them were acting out a skit meant to precede the song when the tragic shooting occurred. * * * NPC/Band Profile: Jeanette Harwati-Colton and Poseidon's Price This land was always ours Was the proud land of our fathers It belongs to us and them Not to any of the others Let them go, boys Let them go, boys Let them go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry - The Pogues, "If I Should Fall From Grace With God" Jeanette Maya Mahsuri Harwati-Colton was born in 2168, the daughter of two well-known native musicians from Atlantis, John Travis Colton and Maya Harwati. She inherited her father's talent at composition and her mother's magnetic personality and anti-Recontact beliefs. Raised from birth on tales of her namesake's mythical exploits, she never doubted her destiny in life. She and her mother joined the Army of Maya Mahsuri in early 2180. The young Harwati-Colton was only 11 years old, but she participated in many of the group's operations, serving as courier, lookout and unofficial mascot. Less than a year later, the organization was broken up by MacLeod Enforcement agents and the members were turned over to the GEO for trial. Jeanette Harwati-Colton escaped serious punishment because of her age, and was separated from her mother to be placed in a GEO-run juvenile detention facility in Haven. This separation was the defining moment in her early life, and it turned her against the GEO and Incorporates for life. She escaped the facility in 2182, and joined a native street gang in the Floats, the 'Skippers. For the next 4 years, she rose through the ranks of the gang by the sheer power of her personality, and gradually turned the activities of her fellow gang members towards anti-GEO vandalism. In 2186, the same year her mother died in prison, a "disagreement" with the leader of the 'Skippers forced Harwati-Colton to flee Haven, and she soon took up with reformed NRM gangster and legendary tribal reggae musician Deon "Blind Man" Malcolm. Malcolm recognized her potential and took her into his band as his protégé, helping her to develop her musical talents over the next three years. During that time, Harwati-Colton followed Malcolm's band across the Pacifica Archipelago, performing with them in back-alley bars, native villages, Incorporate mining towns and even gangster hideouts. The former gang lieutenant blossomed into a brilliant singer-songwriter, capable of electrifying crowds with her powerful lyrics and inventive electronic compositions. As Harwati-Colton grew into adulthood, she restrained her urges to rejoin the growing native resistance movement. Her mentor's pacifist philosophies guided her to direct her energies into music, instead. She eventually developed her musical style far beyond the limitations of Malcolm's traditional tribal style, and in 2189, she reluctantly split with her former mentor. She formed her own band, Poseidon's Price, together with guitarist Abel Ransom and trumpet maestro Jessica DeMarco Vasquez, two of Malcolm's musicians who defected to follow her. As it turned out, Harwati-Colton's music was veering from old tribal to the neo-folk style. Neo-folk, born of the post-Blight era, had arrived from Earth with Recontact, but was now starting to die out. The old neo-folk musicians, all post-Recontact colonists from Earth, had reached creative dead ends, and many were retiring or switching to other musical traditions. What Poseidon's Price did was to merge the tribal sound with neo-folk, adding elements of political protest and native folktales into the lyrics. The result was a potent mixture that brought new life to Poseidon's music scene. The timing was almost perfect, and Poseidon's Price sparked a host of copycat bands who took the new "tribal neo-folk" label and ran with it. Unfortunately, the very group which had started it all soon became lost in a sea of new tribal neo-folk bands. Although Harwati-Colton's creativity always kept the band one step ahead of the rest of the pack, their radical political message made many media broadcasters reluctant to play them, and so they often went unnoticed by the public. Until 2194, the Price was merely a cult favorite band, with a loyal, slowly growing core of fans among Poseidon natives. Harwati-Colton, aware of the band's many ecoterrorist fans, refused to tone down her message, and instead made her songs more and more radical. Agent after agent quit in protest, and it appeared that the band would never break into the mainstream. The band's troubles got worse when Jessica DeMarco Vasquez quit the band to go solo, citing Harwati-Colton's extreme beliefs as her reason. Harwati-Colton was drifting farther and farther away from Deon Malcolm's teachings. Then, a turn of events resulted in the ultimate publicity stunt. It was the storm season of 2194. Poseidon's Price was performing in the Floats of Haven, close to the neighborhood where Harwati-Colton had once run with the 'Skippers. While the band was playing the popular favorite song "Crusade on Kauai," a drunken riot broke out, and a Gendiver truck driver was killed. A local radical group, Native Pride, helped the band evade the authorities. This was the point of no return. Immersed anew in the native resistance movement, Jeanette Harwati-Colton felt like a Nathan Lesear, coming home to the waters of Poseidon. She accepted an invitation to perform at a meeting of the leadership cell of Native Pride. Her music so impressed the leaders of Native Pride that Party Elder Thomas Khalid proposed that the party be reorganized to use the Storm Widow as a symbol to rally native support, with Poseidon's Pride as the group's official band. Harwati-Colton was appointed the Envoy to the People. Word of the Children of the Widow spread. Respectable native elders proclaimed Harwati-Colton a direct descendant of the Storm Widow. A legend was born. Today, Harwati-Colton leads a nomadic life, travelling with Poseidon's Pride across the Archipelago to perform in the most far-flung of native settlements. In some ways, she has come full circle, returning to her roots as a native extremist. In other ways, she is still the travelling neo-folk musician her fans have known for the last ten years, only with an outlaw reputation that makes her all the more exciting to follow. The Price's line-up currently includes former BWC member Paul Ong (percussion) and several other musicians, all members of the Children of the Widow. The band's most famous songs include "Crusade on Kauai," "Prospector's Song" and "Storm Widow's Vow." * * * Band Profile: Sucking Chest Wound With Puvana Led by a voluptuous lead singer who can sing in Hindi but can't understand a word of it, Sucking Chest Wound is an old-fashioned rock band following the style of the popular Hindi rock bands from Bombay who were so successful in the 21st century. MORE COMING SOON * * * Band Profile: Dustbowl Led by Geoff Powell, a grizzled Idaho native who claims to have fought Peter Anton Church in a barroom brawl when both men were teenagers, Dustbowl is an American neo-folk band attempting to follow the traditions of 20th-century folk musicians like Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie. Their most popular song is "Woody Guthrie Sang For You." They came to Poseidon in 2198 and have decided to hang around for a while. MORE COMING SOON * * * NPC Profile: Deon "Blind Man" Malcolm Deon Malcolm is a Zion Island native elder, nearly 70 years of age, and he is a legendary tribal reggae pioneer. Was an NRM lieutenant in his 20s, then swore off violence and became a great musician over the next 40 years. After his brightest proteges, led by Jeanetta Harwati-Colton, turned their back on him and left him abruptly in 2189, he lost his taste for music and retired. Politically neutral, but prefers peace over violence and negotiation over aggression. Rumored to still have NRM contacts who help him maintain a powerful influence in the native music scene. Taught many students, some of whom went on to become the most influential talents of today's music industry, including Jeanette Harwati-Colton, Abel Ransom, Bluffman Tyler, Suzannah Malcolm-Peters and Jessica Vasquez. Malcolm is a native man of African descent, with graying dreadlocks and deep brown skin. He is blind in the left eye and nearly blind in the right eye. He often stares at people with his cataract-ridden eyes in an eerie manner when he converses with them. He has a deep, powerful voice, equally effective in both singing and oration. His most famous songs include "Fork Leaf Girl," "Swim Away" and "Falling Stars." * * * NPC Profile: Bluffman Tyler A tribal neo-folk musician from Kingston. A student of Deon Malcolm's, and a strong supporter of peace talks among rival NRM factions. Also a well-known boat racer, has participated in the Storm Belt 10000 a few times, coming in 2nd place in the most recent race. MORE COMING SOON... * * * NPC Profile: "Sad" Sally Parvin, The Saint of Crystal Parish COMING SOON * * * Timeline (Major performances and other events) Day 1 - Deon Malcolm comes out of retirement for a special concert in the Hydrodome, which is stuffed beyond capacity by his fans. Dustbowl plays at the Blue Mountain Saloon, and Kraken Girls play at the Happy Sunburst. Day 2 - Assorted dolphin musicians play at the Hydrodome. Barbecue stalls set up shop on the Boardwalk after settling rental agreement with Kingston government and the NRM. Andrei Yakhovsky performs at the Hazards Casino. Day 4 - Jessica Thorn sings at the Hydrodome to a sold-out crowd. Sucking Chest Wound plays a free show on the Boardwalk and gets a surprisingly good reception. Day 5 - Ruth Noa shot at Hazards Casino; angry mob of fans kills two HSS officers and wrecks the main music hall on the second floor, then devastates the gaming rooms in a fierce rampage. Damages total about half a million scrip. Day 7 - Bluffman Tyler performs at the Hydrodome, Crest plays at Garvey's Bar. Native activists from the Stone Bridge Memorial Foundation and other groups come to Kingston to attend Ruth Noa's funeral, and to announce a special concert on Day 16 of the festival, in her memory, to feature numerous native protest singers. Day 8 - Zion Tribal Music Awards held in the Hydrodome. Jessica Thorn and her fellow cast members from the CommCore drama Poseidon Patrol hold a private party at the Happy Sunburst bar following her winning of the Best Reggae Performance Award (Female). Damages total 200,000 scrip. Day 11 - CommCore message boards flooded by rumors that Poseidon's Price is coming to Kingston to play at the Ruth Noa memorial concert. Incorporates issue travel warning for Kingston. NRM spokespersons claim that security will not be a problem. Shenzhen Roses play at the Rio de Janeiro. Day 12 - Anonymous CommCore pictures link Hanover Industries to human rights abuses in Westcape; native activists organize protest rallies in Kingston, disrupting a planned neo-folk festival in the Hydrodome. Day 13 - Suzannah Malcolm-Peters plays at the Blue Mountain. Local dolphin bookie rumored to have set odds that the planned Asuka Schneider concert on Day 30 will be cancelled, at 50 to 1, for. Day 14 - Crest plays the Blue Mountain Saloon, Los Loco Romanticos play at Rio, Sucking Chest Wound plays at Garvey's Bar, but attendance is low due to the live broadcast of Asuka Schneider's Haven concert. Day 15 - Gertrude Baum found dead at dawn in Volkhaus. Anti-Hanover protests occur at the Spaceport and other locations in Kingston. Deon Malcolm issues a press statement pleading for peace. Day 16 - The Ruth Noa memorial concert, held in a warehouse in Eastbay. Surprise guests show up in droves, and Poseidon's Price makes an appearance. The NRM tries to shut the concert down, leading to widespread looting and burning. MORE TO COME... * * * There is a minstrel, there you see, And he stoppeth one in three He whispers in this one's ear "Will you kindly kill that doll for me" Now he has won cochona in the bingo All the town has watched this crazy gringo As he pulls off the doll's head laughing And imiraldo! throws its body in the sea Come all you rambling boys of pleasure And ladies of easy leisure We must say Adios! until we see Almeria once again - The Pogues, "Fiesta" * * * Headlines and excerpts from CTN: Zion Music Festival Kicks Off KINGSTON: Amid allegations of interference by the NRM and a controversy over the structural integrity of the Kingston Hydrodome, the first annual Zion Music Festival began today, in the district capital. Legendary tribal reggae pioneer Deon "Blind Man" Malcolm emerged from retirement to perform before a cheering, dancing crowd of approximately 30,800 in the packed-to-bursting Hydrodome. Fireworks burst overhead, while bands from all over the Archipelago entertained tens of thousands of ticketless fans on the Boardwalk. Although the festival was officially organized by Kingston government officials, the influence of the NRM has been felt many times in the past few months. Certainly, NRM factions have shown their support for the festival from the start. But some Incorporate music labels are grumbling about payoffs, extortion and threats to performers. And NRM politics have barred several "unwanted" reggae groups from playing at the festival. Finally, a fierce statement last week by NRM lieutenant Roberto McKay heightened suspicions that the festival could serve as a cover for mass gatherings of some of Poseidon's most notorious ecoterrorist groups. In his words: "It will be a convention of our world's greatest freedom fighters." Additional controversy has arisen because of an announcement by the architect of the Kingston Hydrodome, William Corwin, who claimed earlier this week that the Hydrodome was "unsafe for seating over the 29,500 seat capacity." Many of the festival's sponsors, including Hanover Industries, have raised questions of safety, but Kingston officials have thus far dismissed Corwin's statements as "nonsense." None of this has deterred hordes of music lovers from all over the Archipelago, who have been converging on Kingston and the surrounding area over the past week. Some came by sailboat, some by dolphinback, and some by expensive jumpcraft. One group of gangly native youths claims to have paddled a raft all the way from the Sierra Nueva Cluster! Already, the surrounding countryside is dotted with makeshift tents, and houseboats fill Annotto Bay. Town officials are at a loss to handle the sudden influx of new arrivals. The most conservative estimates place their number at 6,000, although some cite four times that figure. In the coming month, the festival will highlight every musical style on the planet: tribal reggae, dolphin song, neo-folk, post-electronic abstract, revival pop and experimental biorhythm, among others. Major venues such as the Hazards Casino and the Hydrodome have scores of top-billed performers on their schedule, and many shows are already sold out. But you don't even have to buy a ticket to enjoy the music: every night, numerous struggling unknowns will be putting on free shows all along the Broadwalk, in hope of getting signed by a major label. To top it all off, Bavarian pop superstar Asuka Schneider is set to play in the Hydrodome at the end of this month, in the sold-out closing show of the festival. It will be the second leg of her historic first concert tour of Poseidon, which begins in Haven in two weeks. - Gail Arthur, CTN/net Tragic Shooting Bloodies Festival KINGSTON: Barely a week into the Zion Music Festival, a tragic misunderstanding at the Hazards Casino in Kingston yesterday left three dead and 16 injured. According to eyewitnesses, Hanover Security Service officers mistook a prop gun for the real thing and opened fire on Ruth Noa, a tribal reggae musician performing on stage, killing her instantly. During the performance, Noa, percussionist for the band Kraken Girls, pointed and fired a realistic toy gun at the lead singer, as part of a mock argument meant to be a skit between songs. Apparently unaware of the skit, two HSS guards fired some twenty rounds into Noa, without warning, in front of a horrified audience of hundreds. Enraged fans fell upon the two guards, beating and stabbing them to death. Sixteen people were injured in the ensuing riot before authorities could bring the situation under control. Damages to the Hazards Casino are estimated to be around 500,000 cs. The surviving Kraken Girls have announced their intention to sue the HSS. Hanover Industries spokesperson Gertrude Baum announced that the HSS would contest the suit, and that all visitors would be issued full refunds. "We also vehemently deny allegations that the HSS officers were so-called 'trigger-happy veterans' freshly transferred from a hypothetical combat zone," she said. She went on to deny anonymous Commcore rumors stating that Hanover Industries has been concealing severe manpower losses brought on by dangerous operations in Westcape. - Gail Arthur, CTN/net Malcolm Proteges Dominate Zion Tribal Music Awards KINGSTON: Yesterday, as the wild and turbulent Zion Music Festival went into its second week, thousands of tribal reggae and neo-folk fans gathered in the Kingston Hydrodome for the native-only 2199 Zion Tribal Music Awards. To the surprise of many, tribal voters awarded three of the six coveted Best Performance awards to performers with ties to tribal reggae pioneer Deon Malcolm, including Poseidon's Price and Bluffman Tyler. The most controversial award-winner was Poseidon's Price, which won Best Neo-Folk Performance (Band) for the pirate radio hit "Storm Widow's Vow." The band was unable to attend. Founded in 2189 by maverick proteges of Deon Malcolm, Poseidon's Price is on the run from the GEO and Incorporate security agencies for its involvement in the ecoterrorist group known as The Children of The Widow. Another absentee, Douglas J. Jones, barred from Kingston by the NRM, won Best Neo-Folk Performance (Male) for "Dancing In The Photic Zone." Suzannah Malcolm-Peters, Deon Malcolm's niece, received the award for Best Neo-Folk Performance (Female) for "Rain Shadow." The Best Reggae Performance (Band) award went to "Don't Point That Gun At Me" by the Kraken Girls, largely due to a massive last-minute sympathy vote following the tragic shooting death of band member Ruth Noa last week. Bluffman Tyler won Best Reggae Performance (Male) for his update of his mentor Deon Malcolm's classic hit "Fork Leaf Girl." Best Reggae Performance (Female) was won by singer-actress Jessica Thorn for "She Got Water." The dominance of Deon Malcolm's proteges in the 2199 awards has led many musicians to question the integrity of the voting process. Although Malcolm has not been an NRM member for decades, his critics say he uses his NRM contacts to wield considerable power in the tribal music scene. Malcolm has denied these allegations. - Gail Arthur, CTN/net Incorporates Issue Travel Warning For Kingston KINGSTON: Fearful of an increased native insurgent and ecoterrorist presence in the normally Incorporate-friendly colonial town, Hanover Industries and Lavender Organics have issued travel warnings to their citizens in Kingston. An estimated ten to fifteen thousand visitors have arrived in Kingston for the Zion Music Festival, including at least a thousand natives from various hotspots in the Pacifica Archipelago. Rumors of an "ecoterrorist convention" have circulated on the street ever since the festival was announced at the end of 2198. Hanover Industries spokesperson Gertrude Baum said: "We advise all Hanover citizens in Kingston to spend their off-duty hours only within the Volkhaus arcology, until the festival is over in two weeks. During this time, additional security measures will be taken at important facilities, including Kingston Spaceport." She refused to comment on whether or not Asuka Schneider's highly anticipated concert would be canceled because of security problems. The sold-out concert is scheduled to take place in the Hydrodome on the final day of the festival. Lavender Organics security captain Karim Shah announced that LavOrg citizens were advised against visiting the Incorporate's facilities in Kingston in the immediate future. When asked about why the warnings were only being issued now, he said: "We had already anticipated some additional security demands, but recent events have forced us to upgrade our risk estimates." In response to the Incorporate announcements, NRM spokesperson Thomas Strong denied that there was any threat of ecoterrorist attacks, and insisted that the NRM was capable of ensuring peace and order in Kingston. The number of Incorporate citizens applying for reassignment from Kingston skyrocketed following the recent slaying of tribal reggae musician Ruth Noa by the Hanover Security Service. The killing has sparked outrage in the native community, and ecoterrorist band Poseidon's Price is rumored to be coming to the Zion Music Festival to perform a memorial concert for Noa. - Gail Arthur, CTN/net MORE TO COME... _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message. From: Tun Kai Poh [t_poh@hotmail.com] Sent: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 9:15 PM To: blue_planet@mpgn.com Subject: [BLUE PLANET] - Repost: SDIK 8 (LONG) Ah, heck, I'm reposting the articles anyway... Kai Poh * * * Some Die In Kingston, Part 8: The Patrolman's Geas By Tun Kai Poh Some time after midnight, Carol Due sits at a corner table in Tom Keats' Pizza, a converted warehouse in Haven's Brighton neighborhood, waiting for the patrolman to show up. There's a cold slice of rubber shrimp-and-mushroom pizza on her plate, and she's already gone through two bottles of imported San Miguel and half a bottle of Kingston Gold Label. On the dance floor, a hundred kids dance to the newest Asuka Schneider single, 'I'm Fusing My Heart To His.' Carol is sick of the song. She heard it on the plane coming here, because the pilot, Sgt. Karl Dietrich of the HSS, was a big fan who had it playing on continuous loop. She heard it playing over the radio in the coroner's office. She heard it echoing from the Coliseum earlier in the night, when Asuka Schneider's concert was in full swing. And now the DJ here is playing it for the third time. It's a bouncy, happy song with bland machine-written lyrics. Carol doesn't need this right now. She's had a bad day. And it's not over yet. * * * She smelled something wrong the moment she set foot in Haven. Too many people. The colonial capital had grown since she'd been there last, its population swelling to half a million. There are a thousand ways for a person to disappear in Haven. Carol knew many of them. She looked up old acquaintances in nightclubs and bars where she'd once worked or visited, chatting up bartenders and waitresses and strippers. She talked to people in clubs where Vasquez had once played, and apartments where Vasquez was last known to live. She spent all the daylight hours asking around fruitlessly, before realizing she'd forgotten to eliminate the most obvious possibility first. She went to the morgue. The coroner, Dr. Lisa Cornelius, was glad to help. "There are plenty of Nate and Jessie Does here who never get identified. Mostly natives, because so many of them won't register with GEO databases. No birth records, few license registrations of any kind. Unless they've had criminal records, DNA and fingerprint typing are rendered useless. But if you have a picture, that could help." She recognized the old image Carol showed her. "I think I've seen that one before...yes, Jessie Doe #37. It would be hard to forget that one. Come down to the freezer and I can show you." Carol knew even before the coroner showed her the frozen body. The face matched the one in the picture. The file said she was only forty-five Earth years old, but she looked at least ten years older. The room suddenly stank of antiseptic and she felt dizzy. "Say, are you all right? If this is too much, I can -" "No, I'm fine. When did she die?" "A late night patrol found this one in the Floats a few weeks ago. As you can see, she was shot twice in the abdomen with what looks like explosive-tipped handgun rounds. This one was still alive when the patrolmen found her, playing a trumpet, would you believe it? Blown almost clean in half, guts hanging out, and she's playing a trumpet like a maniac." The coroner shook her head. "Died before the EMT arrived. What a way to go." Carol regarded the body detachedly, her hands behind her back. She felt a potent, inexplicable urge to reach out and touch the ragged wound, to run a finger along the frozen flesh of the torn opening. But she controlled herself. "Cause of death was pretty obvious, but I did not have to look too hard at the liver to see that this one was already drinking herself to death." "Advanced cirrhosis?" "Precisely. So, who was she?" Carol thought about her answer before deciding to go with the truth. "Her name's Jessica DeMarco Vasquez. She was a musician from Kingston. She used to play in Poseidon's Price. I met her once, a long time ago, but we didn't talk." Seeing the blank expression on the coroner's face, she added: "A student of Deon Malcolm's. Tribal reggae?" "I've never heard of that one, either. I don't listen to tribal music." Asuka Schneider blared from the radio nearby. Carol sighed. "Was there anything on her?" "Besides the trumpet, no. Do you want to claim it for the relatives?" Carol told her that she was working for a friend of the deceased, not the relatives, and yeah, if possible, she'd like to claim both body and trumpet. She wasn't sure why she said this. Dr. Lisa Cornelius nodded slowly. "There's some red tape, but it shouldn't be too much of a hassle." She took out a bodycomp and composed the death certificate. "What was that name again? Jessica DeMarco..." "...Vasquez." "It would have to be a Jessica, wouldn't it? And a Jessie DeMarco, at that. It figures. I don't suppose Kingston authorities had her birth certificate?" "I doubt it," Carol said. Vasquez was born before they started keeping detailed records in Kingston. The most detailed file on Vasquez extant was probably the one Gertrude Baum had given her, but she didn't mention this. "Okay, I will see what I can do about the body. Maybe I can give you a call tomorrow. What's your number?" She listened raptly and took down one of Carol's anonymous CommCore numbers. "I can get you the trumpet now, if you'll just wait here for a moment. It's not like anyone cares what happens to these things." The native-made trumpet was small and tarnished. Carol handled it gingerly, as though it could bite, and thanked the coroner. "Not a problem. One more small mystery solved. Sorry you found what you were looking for. Well, sorry you found it here, anyway..." Something in the way her voice trailed off bothered Carol. She stared at the coroner. "Is there something...?" "I don't know," the coroner said distractedly. She seemed to stare into the distance for a while, then turned back to Carol with a start. "Well, okay, yes there is. There's a friend of mine. Martin Hauser. He's one of the patrolmen who found this one. You could, maybe, talk to him." "What about?" "He's seen plenty of things. But nothing like this. He saw...something...that night, and it got him really upset. He got a bit obsessed with this one. He asked me to let him know if I found out who this one -" She caught herself and laughed nervously. "There I go again. I mean, who _she_ was." Carol didn't reply, but Dr. Lisa Cornelius persisted. "He'd want to know who she was. It would mean a lot to him." * * * Carol wonders what she's doing here in Tom Keats' Pizza. Not that it's a bad place; take away the trendy music and the kids on the dance floor and it's all right. It's no Tidewater Grill, but it's all right. There's good food and good beer, and the staff seems decent enough. But it's over. She's failed before she even had a chance to begin. She should be gone, just pack it up and meet the HSS men down in the harbor and get a ride back home. What was she even doing here? It's not like it took all her skills to find a dead woman in a morgue. Hah. Why, Dietrich and Stoltz could have done it. Still, she's here, isn't she? She's here to find out what the patrolman saw that night. Martin Luther Hauser turns out to be a handsome young blonde man of what might be German descent, with a sharp bony chin and worried blue eyes. Carol sees something strange in his gait, in the way he carries himself. He's not Earthborn. There's a bit of native in him, she thinks. And he looks weary, tired, in need of sleep. The patrolman slowly makes his way past the dancers and waves to the man behind the bar with the relaxed openness of a regular customer. Tom Keats waves back. "You've got someone here to see you!" he shouts over the din of the music, nudging his head towards Carol's table. She gets up and shakes his hand, introduces herself. He nods, says something about Dr. Lisa Cornelius giving him a call, to tell him that Carol would meet him at his usual spot. She can't hear over the din of the music. He suggests they get out, get some air. First he orders something to go from Keats, and Carol has to wait a while, exchanging awkward looks with him, unable to converse. Impatient, he nervously takes out a small silver cigarette kit and rolls a smoke. She watches his skilful fingers. He's good at this. Carol can't stand the smoke any more than she can stand the music, so after a short while, she steps over to the bar and buys a six-pack of San Miguel, imported all the way from Earth, as a gift for her sister back in Kingston. It's expensive, but she's on an expense account, isn't she? Martin's pizza comes in a bagged box. He pays, then they leave, carrying their purchases. The night air is cool and fresh. The Brighton neighborhood is mostly quiet, as if everyone has partied to exhaustion in the wake of the concert, and now there is no energy left. "I just got off crowd control near the Coliseum," Martin explains, crushing his cigarette into the top of a footbridge railing and flicking it into the water below. "The Hydrodome only holds 75,000 people, but we had a great many more than that coming into the area just to hear Asuka playing live for free." "Rough night?" "Not too bad. They were pretty focused, obsessed with the music, and they didn't cause too much trouble, except a few drunk cases here and there. But it took them hours just to disperse. If the HSS hadn't been there to help, we would've been swamped." He takes out the kit, opens it on the railing, and swiftly rolls dried tobacco and paper into another cigarette. He does this with one hand, while he holds the bagged pizza in the other. "Damn. You're good at this." "Yeah. So, Ms. Due, did Dr. Cornelius show you the body?" "Yeah, she did." "You know who it is, then?" She says so, and tells him who the Jessie Doe is. He just stands there, smoking and listening, until she's done. "Reggae musician from Kingston? What was she doing in the Floats?" "Besides drinking herself to death? Hah. Who knows?" "She must have been good. A good musician, I mean. She could have done better than that." "Oh? How do you know she was good?" Martin sighs and his shoulders slump. "I heard her play when she died. Okay, where do I start?" * * * Martin Luther Hauser and Ted Rowan were beat cops in the GEO Patrol, working the graveyard shift in the Floats. Sooner or later, every cop who walks the Floats steals a bite at one of the disreputable open-air eating spots that makes Fork Leaf Canal famous. The roast yams of Fork Leaf Canal are culinary treasures, lumps of charred yet moist carbohydrates wrapped in dried kelp strips and drowned in rich sweet hexa boar gravy. Not Earth yams, but rather the yam-like roots of the ubiquitous fork leaf plant, which the first settlers on Poseidon had discovered to be highly edible once they'd cooked it a while over a wood fire. Every village in the Haven Cluster has a different recipe, but somehow, the native cooks with the best yam recipes always gravitated to that one particular canal in the worst part of Haven. Martin Hauser had grown up in Second Try, his father a native, his mother one of the first newcomer colonists. He'd grown up with a taste for native food, so he was easily drawn to Fork Leaf Canal. And the food there was better than home cooking ever had been. "We were eating at a really popular 30-hour place called the Fork Leaf Girl. There were always a few native fishermen or drunk college kids coming in to eat. I had finished my meal, a nice small roast yam, but Rowan had ordered two big grilled trident fish and a whole plate of yams for himself, so I killed time looking at pictures on the wall. They were pictures of famous people who'd visited the place before the crime problem had gotten real bad. The centerpiece was a hologram of Blind Man Malcolm smiling a gap-toothed smile and shaking the owner's hand. I wondered if he'd risk getting shot to eat here today. I sure wouldn't do it without my armor vest and sidearm..." Proteus was nearly full in the sky, but the low rumbling clouds hid it from view. The rain began to pour down, as it often did this time of the morning, drenching the shanties and the makeshift tarp shelters that the homeless floaters stayed in. There were still a few people up and about along the canals, some talking loudly. Martin Hauser believed that the loud ones were the dangerous ones, because they obviously didn't feel they had to hide from anyone. Carol knew better, but didn't interrupt. "I was thinking about putting in for a transfer out of the Floats when we heard the two gunshots. This was almost routine around here, this time of the morning. But we had to go and look anyway. Rowan pushed his plate away and jumped to his feet. We abandoned our table without paying and ran in the direction of the noise. Cops don't usually pay for the food on Fork Leaf Canal. I don't know that the Patrol ever asked the proprietors here if they minded, and I think they did, but we did it anyway. Tradition." Rowan led the way through the rain, storming along walkways and rope bridges from one dimly lit float to the next, with pistol drawn. Getting around here was always precarious. The patrolmen switched their visors to night vision to make sure they didn't end up in the water two and a half meters below. The shanties loomed on either side of the walkways. Shanties made of sheet metal, low-grade foamed bioplastic, and wood. Shanties on stilts. Shanties built on bridges between floats. Shanties filled with hungry jobless families and wailing babies. Shanties on top of shanties on top of shanties. "Then we heard the music. It was a weak trumpet solo and it kind of swerved from one melody to another like a bad improvisation, you know? It sounded like - this will sound stupid, but it's what popped into my head - it sounded like a badly wounded dog howling, the saddest sound in the world. It came in starts and stops, like the player was short of breath and had to take breaks. Sometimes it sounded desperate and rushed, and at the same time some of it sounded very deliberate, very carefully played. "The hair on the back of my neck was standing up when we went across the footbridge and turned the corner. When I saw the woman I couldn't move. She was just sitting twisted against a wall, shot real bad in the stomach, in a pool of her own blood, with the rain coming down around her, and she was playing that trumpet." Her face was narrow and pointed and framed with gray hair. The eyes were watery brown and wide open, lost in some other world that the patrolmen could not see. She could have been pretty, once. Her skinny torso, clad in a ragged, blood-soaked, faded green dress, was fairly shredded, and her insides had tumbled out into her lap. She was rapidly bleeding to death. Her fingers were clenched tightly around the crude old trumpet. They approached her, spoke to her, but she was oblivious to everything except the siren's song which poured out of her faster than the blood. She took sharp breaths through her nose and played her offering to some unseen audience in the roiling heavens above. She played pain and regret and disappointment and desperation and futility. "Rowan didn't know what to do. He just growled something and called the EMT. I knelt there and tried to pry the trumpet from her, but she had it in a death grip. All the time, the notes were getting higher and longer and her eyes were wide open and suddenly she stopped, it was finished, and she just froze." * * * "She was dead?" Carol asks. "Dead." * * * HSS plainclothes officers Johann Stoltz and Karl Dietrich are sitting on a couple of overturned cargo crates in a shack. The shack is located next to a rented landing pad on the waterfront with a Hanover Autoworks Rook-III VTOL parked on it. They've been ordered to remain in town until Carol Due finds the woman Vasquez, and then they're to provide transportation back to Kingston. To pass the time, they're staying up to watch Poseidon Extra Late on bodycomp. Joey Lester and Kim Sun trade quips animatedly on the holographic display, with their dialogue being automatically translated into German for the benefit of the HSS officers. The jokes focusing on the events of Asuka Schneider's concert are pretty funny considering that they must have been written two hours ago, at most. The short one, Stoltz, points this out. The tall one, Dietrich, looks at him askance. "No way. I thought Joey Lester made it all up himself. You know, on the spot?" "What, are you kidding? Of course he has writers! Everyone has writers! It's like Asuka, do you think she writes her own songs, scripts her own movies? Don't you ever read the credits?" "Nah, that's boring. I always tell my bodycomp to filter them out." "Philistine." Joey Lester gets on to the first big skit before the guest interviews, and manages to sneak a Gertrude Baum joke into his act. Dietrich laughs at this. He always laughs at the Gertrude Baum jokes. Stoltz just snorts and shakes his head. The watchdog system on the VTOL goes off, sounding a loud alarm from both their bodycomps. "See who that is," Stoltz says. "Just when it's getting really good..." Dietrich reluctantly gets up and leans lazily against a window, looking out. "It's some woman coming up the ramp." "Is it Due? She said she'd call if -" The transparent bioplastic ruptures with a pop and the tall man falls back with blood streaming from a hole in his forehead. Stoltz curses and jumps away from the windows, drawing a gun. More popping noises. The front of the shack is rapidly perforated by the silent gunfire. Stoltz gets off two wild shots before he dies. The gunman calmly steps up to the side of the parked VTOL and taps a code into its keypad, resetting the security systems. Then she turns, reloads her SMG, and walks inside the shack. On the bodycomp, the audience laughs louder and louder as Joey Lester reads off a list of new nicknames for Gertrude Baum (in German). The gunman smiles thinly, shuts down the bodycomp, and pockets it. * * * The music haunted him. The terrible song remained in his ears that morning when he got off shift and tried to fall asleep in his apartment in Old Town. It played through his mind the next day, and the day after that. Even after he transferred out of the Floats. It had somehow infected him, just from one listening. He did not know how this had happened. In the cold of the coroner's office, he talked to Lisa Cornelius about it, but it didn't do him any good. Sometimes, when it was real quiet, he found himself trying to compose lyrics to go with it. "It's driving me crazy. The memory of her, of her song, it's been driving me crazy." He reaches for his cigarette kit, then changes his mind. "It probably sounds absurd, doesn't it?" "I don't know. But then, I didn't hear the song, did I?" Martin Luther Hauser glances at Carol, one eyebrow raised, then begins to whistle loud and clear. He's memorized it. He knows it by heart. It's the strangest thing she has ever heard. It sets her on edge, like when she sees a flash of lightning before the thunderclap comes. She finds that she's clenching her hands into fists just listening to it. "One second." She takes out her bodycomp and starts recording. "Whistle that again, will you?" He does. When she's finished recording, they draw apart, tense and awkward in the relative silence of the Haven night. Somewhere far away, a door slams loudly. Jet skis buzz in the harbor. Gunshots echo across the waters from the Floats. A baby cries. "Why did she die?" he asks. "I don't know." "Why kill her? Why shoot her like a dog and leave her half-alive?" "I don't know." "Do you want to find out?" She locks eyes with him. "Do you?" He reddens a little. "You know I do. That song of hers has me and it won't let go. I have to know what happened. I have to know why she died." "How? It happened weeks ago. You didn't see anything then, and we sure won't find anything now." "Who hired you to find her? Who was looking for her?" "Does it matter?" "It matters a great deal. There has to have been some reason why both you and the killer went looking for an old has-been musician who was wandering the Floats, homeless." "Maybe it was an accident or mistaken identity," she says, testing him. "Maybe it was a joy killing. You know kids these days. Anything for fun." "Nonsense." "I thought you were a cop. You would have seen it." "No. Nobody kills without a reason." Carol thinks of the Jessylinda of five years ago, and considers again the young patrolman's naivete. "I've seen it happen." "Are you going to tell me who hired you and why? Or is there some client's privacy you have to protect?" He sets his jaw, looks away over the water, then looks back at her. "Okay, you want money? I'll hire you to find out." "To find out what?" "Why she had to die. Who was looking for her." It must be the beer, Carol thinks. Two bottles of San Miguel and half a bottle of Gold Label. She sees images of smoke. Gertrude Baum is a demon on her back. Her brother's ghost calls to her over the span of nineteen long years. Jessylinda sits beside her on a bridge in Second Try, saying goodbye. She's in the cold morgue, running a finger along a dead native woman's torn belly. This smells wrong. She shouldn't get in any deeper. There's nothing she wants to go digging for. And the payoff Gertrude promised isn't going to materialize this way. It probably never existed, she tells herself. He's dead. But then there's the haunting, discordant tune that Martin whistled. "Five hundred scrip a day. I'll find out what I can and I'll tell you what I can. No guarantees this will lead anywhere. And one more thing: could you roll me one of those cigarettes?" "I didn't know anyone else still smoked." "I don't. I just want to see how you do it one-handed." She blinks away a surprising tear and catches her breath. It's happening to her. She's caught in the same mad song that has ensnared the patrolman. And the only way to get out is to follow the song back to its source. * * * By the time the Patrol investigates the shack on the waterfront, it's early in the morning and Lambda Serpentis is about to rise and shine. They find two unidentified men in the shack, riddled by armor-piercing bullets. There's a fully fueled VTOL sitting on the pad, untouched. Carol is long gone. She took one look and ran like Hell. She's in a hotel room somewhere in Old Town. Nobody knows she's here, not even Jessylinda. She scoped out the place twice, checked it for its accessibility. Nobody knows her here, so nobody can betray her; she doesn't trust any of her old friends in Haven. The beer is in the fridge. She's lying on a couch pulled up to the back window, which has been unlocked in case she needs to make a quick exit. She's thinking. Someone tracked down and executed Jessica Vasquez. Someone knows she's here, and that someone probably knows exactly why she's here. The plainclothesmen were taken out quickly and professionally. Gertrude isn't the only player in this game after all. Carol hates the games that the powerful madmen play as they gaze down from their lofty towers, hates the sacrifice of pawns and the moves and counter-moves that benefit nobody but the players. It's time someone kicked over the chess table. Might as well be her. She sits up on the edge of the couch, yawning. Going to need caffeine tabs. She takes out her bodycomp and looks again at Martin Hauser's phone number, but she knows better than to call him. Leave him be for now, she thinks. Let the night shift sleep. Out of curiosity she opens the drawer of the bedside table. Inside, two plastic forks and an old-fashioned hardcover paper book. She takes the book out and checks the inside cover. "'Placed by the Gideons,'" she says. "Should have known." Then she turns on the wallscreen and checks the morning news. (Copyright Tun Kai Poh, 1999. The Blue Planet setting and concepts are the copyright of Biohazard Games. Poseidon Extra Late and Joey Lester created by Eva Piltch) _______________________________________________________________ Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com *************************************************************************** To unsubscribe from this list send mail to majordomo@mpgn.com with the line 'unsubscribe blue_planet' as the body of the message.