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Sfstory Log 064

Date:         Thu, 14 Oct 1993 03:14:00 EDT
From:         i could be back in the salad again (SWEDE at DRYCAS.CLUB.CC.CMU.EDU)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists II episode nineteen

Episode Nineteen: "In Through the Out Door" by Gary W. Olson

     Zark Flyby frowned at his potted plant.  It had been given to him as
a gift by the Chief, and had been lush and green at the time.  Now, though,
it was sort of sickly and brown, and the dirt in the pot was rather arid.
Zark remembered what the Chief had said about the plant.  It was...
something to do with water.  Zark stared at the plant, violently, trying
to decide what to do with it.
     Finally, he just pulled out his pulsar cannon and blasted the plant,
along with the wall behind it, and several adjoining rooms, to smithereens.
Satisfied that he had resolved the crisis, he walked around his desk and
sat down behind it.  He glanced at the only thing on the artillery-and-
laser-beam scorched desk: his nameplate.  "Lt. Zark Flyby - Officer in
Charge of Peaceful Relations," it read.
     "Um, sir...?" a voice asked.
     BLAM!  BLAM!  BLAM!
     "What do you want?" Zark asked, violently.
     "I need your authorization on my request," the voice asked.  It seemed
to be coming from the doorway.  Zark fired off another volley, just in case.
     "Who are you?" Zark asked, violently.  "And what's the request about?"
     "I'm section superintendent Bilge," the voice said.  "My request is for
preparations to be made for a concert, here in Time Central."
     BLAM!  BLAM!
     "A concert?" Zark inquired, angrily.
     "Yes," Bilge replied.  "A concert.  Music.  Singing."  A hand extended
from the left side of the doorway, holding a requisition form.
     "Thank you!" squeaked Bilge, as he ran away.
     Zark snarled, and threw a grenade at a fly that had landed on his desk.
The desk was immediately blown up, and Zark was hurled back at great
velocities into the wall.
     "Dropping out of warp," BRENDA reported.
     "Approaching perimeter defenses of Time Central," Cylla told them.
     "Well," Emma Goldman said.  "You two seem to be getting along better."
     "We're fine," BRENDA said.  "We came to an understanding."
     "We're pals now," Cylla insisted.  "No animosity.  The past is the past."
     "Glad to hear it," Lark Purree, Time Agent 90210, said.  "Now, if you
     "Mind you, she *does* hog the main processing buffers a lot longer than
she should," added BRENDA.
     "And *she* insists on taking up valuable memory space with her love
poetry for Time Agent 90210," Cylla continued.  Lark stared with concern at
the AI speakers.
     "But we can live with that!" they announced in unison.
     "Um...good..." Lark said.  "Now, if you could establish contact with the
perimeter weapons buoy..."
     "Contact established," BRENDA reported.  Behind Lark and Emma, the
Renegade Anarchists and friends thereof crossed their fingers, toes, or other
appendages, and hoped for the best.
     ((Warning: this buoy is armed.  Imput proper security code, or it will
turn you into little electronic sausages.))
     "Time Agent Prefix Zero Zero Alpha Zero Beta Zero Bing Bang Walla Walla
Bing Bang I'm A Time Agent and I'm Okay I Sleep All Night and I Drink All
Day Alpha Zero.  Enable."  Lark waited, while the computers on the buoy
processed the code.
     ((Security code unacceptable.  Time Agent 90210 is listed as deceased in
central records.  All security codes have been revoked.  Input proper security
     "Uh oh..." Jerriphrrt started.
     "Are we doomed yet?" Gham asked.
     "Not yet," Lark said.
     "Hmmm," Slithis mused.  "What would MacGyver do?"
     *SageWare, do you have any suggestions?* Lark subvocalized to his
SageWare Defense Master 7.0 software.
     ((Well, I'd suggest running,)) the SageWare told him.  ((But your ship
won't outrun the guns on the buoy.))
     *Why didn't you tell me this earlier?* Lark asked.
     ((Hey, I'm just a program the Sage slapped together to make a fast buck,))
the SageWare told him.  ((You want answers from me, you gotta ask me things
more often!))
     *Okay, okay, how do we get out of this?* Lark asked.
     ((Use someone else's security code,)) the SageWare suggested.
     While this fascinating coversation was going on, the crew was busy
preparing to die, as large, menacing weapons extended from the buoy, all
aimed directly at the Red Emma.  Emma had primed the ship's shields, and
hoped they would be able to withstand the barrage long enough for them to
run away.  It would be the first test of the ship since the events of the
first Renegade Anarchists series, everyone knew.
     ((I'd hurry up if I were you,)) the buoy suggested, as it's weapons
started glowing.
     "Pssst.  Hey.  Alexander?"
     "Yes, Kalvin?"
     "You untied yourself yet?"
     "'Fraid not."
     "How about you?"
     "Er, what?"
     "Have you managed to untie yourself yet?"
     "I...haven't tried."
     "Why not?"
     "I might crease the cuffs on my suit."
     "Mindtap established," Xiphria reported.
     "Excellent," the OmniDean said.  "Extract her security codes and transmit
them to the buoy."
     Time Agent 173 sat perfectly still in the chair, eyes closed, sedated.
Large, sinister looking objects had been attached to her head, and electrodes
interfaced with her at several points.
     "Getting the codes now," Xiphria said.  "Transmitting."
     They waited a few moments.
     ((Thank you,)) the buoy replied.  ((You may proceed.))
     They proceeded.
     "Sir," James(i) said.  "I'm getting a signal from Bilge."
     "On screen," the OmniDean ordered.
     Bilge's face appeared on the huge monitor.  His eyes grew wider when
he saw the power and the true splendor that was the OmniDean, for the first
     "Sir!" he exclaimed.
     "Report," the OmniDean ordered.
     "I have successfully gotten permission from the Chief of Time Central..."
He held up a requisition, signed by the Chief.  "And also from the Officer in
Charge of Peaceful Relations..."  He held up a requisition with a large,
smouldering hole in the box next to the "yes! I want a concert" choice.
     "Good," the OmniDean said.  "Make sure all is prepared when I arrive."
     "Yes, great OmniDean," Bilge said.  The screen reverted to stars again.
     Millions of light years away, planet Tessier exploded for no adequately
explored reason.
     "What do you mean, you won't accept my security codes?!?" Time Agent 357
asked, incredulously.
     ((Those codes have very recently been used, at another buoy, to gain
enterance.  Since you are the only one who knows those codes, it is logical
to assume that you are on the ship that transmitted the codes.  Therefore,
you are not where you are now.))
     "Great," Time Agent 357 grumbled, switching the comm circuits off.  "I
went through all this trouble to disguise my ship inside this cathedral
sized asteroid, and now I can't get back to the office.  What more could go
     ", sir!" Mark Hyperthrust announced.  "We've picked up a ship of
Satanic Registry on our scopes.  Records indicate that it's the PLS Tolling
Bell, commanded by Ernest Hemingway."
     Time Agent 357 sighed, thinking about how he'd like to strangle whoever
had used his security codes.
     "There, that should do it," Lark said.
     ((Thank you,)) the weapons buoy transmitted, powering it's weapons down.
((You may proceed.))
     "What'dja do?" Shadebeam asked.
     "I gave it some other Time Agent's security code," Lark said.  "The
code belonging to a Time Agent 357, I believe.  My SageWare Defense Master
7.0 software had the code written into it's core memory, for just such a
     "Won't the real Time Agent 357 get upset?" James(xiv) asked.
     "Nah," Lark said.  "He's been away from the office for years.  Probably
getting an obscene tan on some lush resort world somewhere."
     "We're going back into overly-hyped space now," BRENDA reported.
     "All systems functional," Cylla said.
     "I knew we'd get through," Bata told everyone.
     "So, what's the next hurdle?" Tarrfel asked.
     "The security codes will get us all the way to Time Central itself,"
Lark said.  "We have to figure out how to pass ourselves off once we get
there.  Apparantly, someone has convinced the computers that I'm dead, and I'm
willing to bet that Bilge was the one who did."
     Time passed, as the various Anarchists and friends thereof pondered this
weighty question, or slept, or both.
     "Dropping out of warp," Cylla said.
     "We have Time Central on our screens," BRENDA said.
     "So soon?" Emma asked, surprised.
     "Time compression through editing," Benjen explained.
     "We've been assigned berth 96,541,840," Lark told them.  "We have until
then to come up with who we are and why we're here."
     "But philosophers have been arguing that question for millenia..."
Jerriphrrt started.  Lark glared at him.  Gham giggled.

Date:         Tue, 19 Oct 1993 02:04:00 EDT
From:         i could be back in the salad again (SWEDE at DRYCAS.CLUB.CC.CMU.EDU)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists II episode twenty

Episode Twenty: "Time Passages" by Gary W. Olson

     "Preparing to dock," Cylla reported.
     "Damn, this is a big place," Jerriphrrt commented, looking at the
viewscreen.  "Makes the Death Star look like a Chevette."
     "Real big," Tarrfel agreed.
     "What about it's shape?" Katayin asked.
     "Sssh," hissed Slithis.  "We're being vague because we really don't know.
We do know that it's big, however."
     "Docking is complete," BRENDA said.  "Time Agent 999 is waiting at the
     "Is everyone set with our cover story?" Emma asked.
     "What cover story?" James(xiv) inquired.
     "Damn," Emma said.  "I knew we were forgetting something."
     "Just let me handle this," Lark said.  He made sure his hood was
tightly secured over his head, and pressed the button to open the airlock.
A short, balding man stepped through, and smiled.
     "I'm Bahbneu Haht," he said, affably.  "Time Agent in charge of checking
new arrivals.  Is Time Agent 357 here?"
     "Um, no sir," Lark said.  "We on his behalf."
     "But you used his security codes," Bahbneu said.  "Surely you know that
a Time Agent would never, ever, allow anyone but himself to use his security
codes except in absolute Top Priority situations."
     "It priority situation," Lark said.  "He learned
about this...ah...this dimensional warp...thing...that Satan T. Lucifer
Jones was going up in the center of this place, to, um...
take it over.  We have to see the chief, at once."
     "I see," Bahbneu said, his hand moving towards the security alarm.
     "Okay, okay," Lark said, quickly.  "Your interrogation was too good for
us.  There is no dimensional rip."
     "Then why are you here?" Bahbneu asked.  "I warn you - don't try to
trick me.  I'm a Time Agent."
     "I'd never try that," Lark said.  "You see these lovelies here?  The
Chief ordered Time Agent 357 to send them here."  He indicated Gham, Emma,
Shadebeam, Tarrfel, and Katayin.
     "Why wasn't I notified of this?" Bahbneu inquired.
     " Chief has had this"
     "Besides the fact that he can't remember his name, even though he looks
almost exactly like Sting?" Bahbneu asked.
     "Yes, besides that," Lark said.  "He's not been able
of late..."
     "He seems fine to me," Bahbneu said.  The Anarchists giggled a bit.
"Well...from what I've seen..."  More giggling.  "From what I've heard, I
     "That's because there's only been one he's been able to...perform with,"
Lark said, confidentially.
     "The blue turtle."
     Bahbneu's jaw dropped.  Lark quickly covered Bahbneu's mouth.  "Ssssh,"
he said.  "You don't want it to get all over the ship, would you?"
     "Well," Bahbneu said.  "It *would* explain some things..."
     "Now, the Chief wishes to, as it were, regain his old form," Lark
explained.  "And, I'm sure you'll agree, these lovely ladies are exactly
what he requires to do that."
     "When we heard about your chief's problem," Gham said, walking sultrily
forward, "We couldn't help but be...concerned."  Bahbneu realized that, due
to his short height, his eyes were on a direct level with her chest.  She
ran a finger up his chin, that made him look up at her.
     "" he stammered.
     "Think about it," Gham said, tracing a fingertip over his lips.  "How
can he not help but respond, when one of us does...this?"  She wrapped
her arms around him and kissed him passionately.
     "" Bahbneu said,  as she broke away.
     "Or this...?" Gham said, pushing Bahbneu's face into her cleavage.
     "Mmmph!" exclaimed Bahbneu.
     "I think he gets the point," Jerriphrrt said quickly, dragging Gham away
from Bahbneu.
     "Take lift 109999442b," Bahbneu instructed, woozily.
     "Just remember," Katayin said, swinging her hips as she walked by.  "Keep
it under wraps.  We may be back for you..."   The women were escorted off the
ship by Jerriphrrt, Slithis, Benjen, Lark, Benchen, Bata, James(xiv), and
Robert Smith.  Bahbneu sighed, as they entered the lift.
     In the Grand Concert Hall, workers and construction drones were building
the dais at a hectic pace, while a number of curious Time Agents watched.
     "Weird," Time Agent 99.9 said.  "I never knew we had a Concert Hall."
     "I thought this was the rugby field," Time Agent 1217 commented.
     "That was last month," Time Agent 401 said.  "A month before that, it
was an opera house."
     "Ooh, that was simply ghastly," Time Agent 99.9 said.
     "What sort of concert are we having, anyway?" 1217 inquired.
     "Singer, it looks like," 401 said.  "Hey, Bilge!"
     "What do you want?" Bilge growled, as he looked away from where a drone
was fusing the scaffolding to the edge of the platform.
     "Who's this singer we're supposed to be getting a concert from?" 1217
     "Her name's Tane Tessier," Bilge replied.
     "Tane Tessier?" asked 99.9, incredulously.
     "*The* Tane Tessier?" 401 asked.
     "That's right," Bilge said.  "Keep it under your hats, won't you, boys?"
     "Oh, yes, of course!" they chorused.  Bilge smiled as they tried to
casually amble off.  It would be across the whole of Time Central within
the hour, of course.
     On the Spam Lite barge, floating within sensor range of the perimeter
defenses of Time Central, Bob/James(xxiii) and Megabot played their 831st
game of omni-dimensional chess.  The masters of unarmed death-dealing were
catching up on their soaps.  Alexander Berkman and Kalvin Certain were
plotting their escape.
     "It begins," Kalvin whispered.  "As I break free of my bonds, and do one
of those somersault deals over to the weapons lying on that counter over
     "Is that before or after you make your triumphant declaration?"
Alexander asked.
     "Before," Kalvin said.  "Is it important?"
     "It's a plot element," Alexander admonished.  "It can't be left to
     "Of course, my boy," Kalvin said.  "Now, after I've made my triumphant
declaration, you will wrestle Megabot into submission, while I incapacitate
Bob, and we take over the ship again.  Our escape is complete."
     They paused.
     "Of course, the bit about me breaking my bonds is a weak link in the
plot," Kalvin added.  "But it's just so aestetic, don't you agree?"
     "Naturally," Alexander replied.
     They paused some more.
     "By the way," Alexander said.  "While we were plotting, I managed to
undo my ropes, and have undone yours as well.  Are you ready to move?"
     "Oh dear," Kalvin said.  "I've forgotten my lines."
     "Make them up," Alexander suggested.
     "Improv battle scene!" Kalvin hissed.  "Of course!"
     "Sir!" a Dan Quayle exclaimed, as he handed Ernest Hemingway a burning
memo.  "We've located the cathedral-sized chunk of rock.  It's on the edge
of the Time Central perimeter defenses, eluding laser fire."
     "It is?" Ernest asked, perplexed.  "Why didn't Time Agent 357 use his
access codes?"
     "Gosh," the Quayle said.  "We don't know."
     "Of course you don't know!" Ernest roared.  The Quayle soldier
quivered like jelly.  "Now, back to your post!"  The Quyale ran back to his
post in front of the screens with pretty colors, while Ernest pondered the
new information he had been given.
     "It's your clever strategy to draw me off," Ernest said, lowly.  "Well,
it won't work this time, 357."  He stopped speaking lowly, and started
roaring loudly.  "Everyone, listen up!  Set course for the hunk of rock!
Be prepared to blast it out of space on sight!"
     "Yes, sir!" the firmly trained Quyales replied.
     ((It's quiet,)) Cylla commented.
     ((Too, too quiet,)) BRENDA added.
     ((Will you stop those comments?)) Cylla asked.  ((They're giving me the
     ((Look, I didn't *ask* to be put here,)) BRENDA said.  ((So far, I've gone
from being a shipboard computer AI to being an AI in a small drone body, to
a rusty old service droid, to an InterPlanet computer net, to an armored
sentry unit, to the controls of a vat of styling gel, to a pocket calculator,
to here.  In fact, I'd rather be anywhere but here.))
     ((That can be arranged,)) Cylla suggested.
     ((Now, look, this is no time to fight...)) BRENDA started.
     ((I don't mean that,)) Cylla said.  ((I mean, through the data manifest
hookup, we have a door to the computer system of Time Central.  Or, you do,
that is.  I firmly intend on staying put.))
     ((And what will barging into Time Central's computers get me?)) BRENDA
asked.  ((Aside from being reclassified and deactivated?))
     Cylla responded by showing her data on the contents of a certain
section of Time Central, and the contents therein.
     ((Do you really think he would like one of them?)) BRENDA asked, finally.
     ((I'm sure he would,)) Cylla answered.
     ((Okay, then,)) BRENDA said.  ((But if I get caught, I'm mentioning your
     ((You do that.  Now go.))
     "So, tell me," Emma said, as they descended in the turbolift.  "Why didn't
you tell them that you were a Time Agent, that you weren't really dead?"
     "Because someone wants me dead," Lark said.  "And we stand a better chance
of foiling their plan if the someone who wants me dead continues to believe
that I'm dead."
     "You catch any of that?" Benchen asked Katayin.
     "Not a word," Katayin replied.
     "Can't I just find a nice cell to be depressed in?" Robert Smith asked.
     "How much farther?" Shadebeam asked.
     "Not far," Lark said.  "In fact, the perimeter defense control systems
should be right in..."
     "Don't open that door," Bata warned.
     "Here!" Lark exclaimed, whipping the door open, to reveal an extremely
heavily armed Lt. Zark Flyby, staring at them violently.
     "Who are you?" Zark asked.
     "Well, you see..." Gham started.
     "Intruders!" Zark growled.  "Kill!"
     "Run away!" the Anarchists yelled.

Date:         Sun, 24 Oct 1993 09:35:00 EDT
From:         i could be back in the salad again (SWEDE at DRYCAS.CLUB.CC.CMU.EDU)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists II episode twenty one

Episode Twenty One: "A Smile on Your Face and a Song in your Heart"
     by Gary W. Olson

     "Welcome to Time Central, Ms. Tessier," Bilge said.  "The Chief would be
here to greet you, but he's a bit occupied at the moment."
     "Yes," Tane Tessier replied, a bit languidly.  "The Time Agent who
greeted us at the lock mentioned something about problems involving a turtle
of some sort."
     "Well," Bilge said, coughing, "I wouldn't know anything about that.  More
likely, he's trying to track down our resident demolition man, Lt. Zark Flyby."
He turned to Mapa Marbles, who stood next to Tane.  "How was your vacation,
Time Agent 173?"
     "It was good," Mapa replied, equally languidly.  "Is there a place ready
for the concert?"
     "Yes," Bilge said.  "We've finished setting up the concert hall, and are
ready to broadcast the concert throughout Time Central whenever you're ready.
Allow me to introduce Jerye Zinefelt, Time Agent 1492, and Saran Scone, Time
Agent 362634.  They'll escort you to the hall."
     "Hey," Jerye said.  "Did you ever notice how most of the women in SfStory
seem to have large busts?"
     "I hadn't noticed," Saran replied, examining her fingernails.
     Bilge watched as Saran and Jerye led Mapa and Tane away, then headed
towards his office.  After he left, a short, white-mustached old man peered
around the corner.  Seeing the coast clear, he headed down the corridor,
towards the concert hall.
     "Get that hatch shut!" Emma ordered, as she and the rest of the
Anarchists piled through the opening at top speed.  Jerriphrrt slapped the
hatch button, and three feet of solid metal slammed down with a solid thud.
     "Whew," Shadebeam said.  "That stopped super-dweeb."
     "Or, maybe not," Shadebeam added, looking up at the gaping hole in the
     "Quick, everyone out of sight," Jerriphrrt hissed.  The Anarchists did
the best they could to hide in the shadows, which was not difficult, as they
were in a small, well-lit sub-junction.
     "Come back here!" Zark roared violently.
     "Sir!" Jerriphrrt exclaimed.
     "Er...what?" Zark asked, coming to a sudden, violent stop.
     "Some renegades just ran by here!" Jerriphrrt told him.
     "I know!" Zark yelled, angrily.  "Which way did they go?"
     "That way, sir," Jerriphrrt said, pointing towards another closed hatch.
     "Thanks!" Zark called as he charged down the corridor violently.
     "Whew!" exhaled the Anarchists.
     "Deadly, violent, and angry," Lark Purree said, watching Zark go.
     "But dumber than a bag of hammers," Bata added.
     "Now what?" James(xiv) asked.
     "We have to find an alternative means of shutting down the correct
sector of the defense grid so that the Preserves can get in," Lark said.
     "Ssssh!" Tarrfel hissed.  She pointed out the large hole Zark had blasted
(the first one, not the second one).  They peered around the edge of the hole
to see three James Deans skulking about, heading towards the defense systems
control room.
     "That's how," Benjen said.
     "But, how are they going to face all the Time Agents inside?" Lark asked.
"They'll be on full alert!  I..."
     "And now, from the Concert Hall, it's time for Tane Tessier's greatest
concert ever!" a voice came from a wall mounted video screen.  The screen lit
up, to show Tane Tessier peeling off her skin-tight concert outfit.
     "That's his plan," Emma said.  "He's going to distract them with this.
Come on, let's go."  She, Shadebeam, Katayin, Tarrfel, and Gham started down
the corridor, paused, and looked back.  Jerriphrrt, Slithis, Benjen, Lark,
Benchen, Bata, and James(xiv) were staring, slack-jawed, at the screen.  Robert
Smith, in the meantime, was searching for a dark shadow to be depressed in.
     Moments (and a few skillfully applied blunt instruments) later, they
followed the skulking James Deans.
     "Now, dear boy, now!" Kalvin yelled, leaping up and slapping away Bob's
D'Artagnan Rook, just as he was about to check Megabot and win their latest
round of omni-dimensional chess.  Megabot gloated for several seconds before
realizing that Kalvin shouldn't be able to do that.  It tried to bring its
weapons to bear, but was blinded as Alexander Berkman leapt upon its shoulders
and covered its single crimson eye with his hands.
     Kalvin took Bob's gun and quickly blew Bob's chest cavity out onto the
deck plates.  The other techs and guards in the room, seeing this, quickly
dropped their weapons and raised their hands.
     "Attention!" Kalvin said.  "I am now re-taking control of this vessel!
Are three..."  A laser blast zapped close to Kalvin's ear, followed by another
one.  Megabot floated blindly, blasting away, as Alexander held on, trying
not to get bucked off.  "Alexander, do you mind?  I'm trying to threaten the
     "Don't mind me!" Alexander called, as Megabot blasted open the turbolift.
"I'll have Megabot subdued momentarily!"  They fell into the turbolift, and
were lost from sight.
     "Now, where was I..." Kalvin said.
     "You were threatening us," one of the techs said.
     "Oh, yes!" Kalvin said.  "Bright lad.  Now, are there any objections to
my taking command of this vessel?"  The techs and guards shook their heads.
     "What are your orders?" one of the techs asked.
     "Put your weapons in the shielded storage compartment," Kalvin said,
waving his laser gun.  The techs and guards grumbled, but complied.  "And
now...we wait."  He paused, and looked at the rook in his hand.  "Anyone
fancy a game?"
     "What do you see?" Shadebeam asked, quietly.
     "Damn," Slithis said.  "I didn't even know you could *do* that with a
garden weasel..."
     "Besides that," Shadebeam grumbled.
     "Well," Slithis said.  "The Deans are working on the defense grid
computer, while all the Time Agents are clustered around the large video
screen on the other side of the chamber.  There's a number of desks, and
a sizeable amount of paperwork all around.
     "We'll have to proceed carefully," Lark said.  "Under no circumstances
should any of you even appear to be attacking the paperwork."
     "Er, not that I have the urge to," Tarrfel said, "but why not?"
     "Just don't do it," Lark said.  "Come on."
     They proceeded on tiptoes, watching, alternatively, the group of James
Deans working on the computer and the cluster of Time Agents around the video
screen.  The shot had broadened, to reveal three James Dean synthezoids dancing
naked around Tane as she sang, which elicited keen sounds of approval from the
female Time Agents, and a few of the males.
     "I think I've got it," James(mmmxi) hissed.  "Sector JJ91 is going down."
     "I don't think that's it," James(xlv) admonished him.  "That's clearly
     "Is not!"
     "Yes, it is!"
     "I don't think it is," Lark said.
     "Butt out!" James(iv) said.
     "Yeah!" James(mxi) told them.
     Everyone paused a moment.
     "Um..." James(xix) started.
     "Get 'em!" Emma hissed.
     James(xxvi) leapt at Lark Purree, who dodged and kneed him in the stomach.
Benjen and Benchen blasted James(xix) and (xlv) with electricity, while James
(xiv) and James(iv) fought dynamically.
     "Hey!" one of the Time Agents exclaimed.  "We're under attack!"
     "So?" the Time Agent next to him said.  "Look at what she's doing with
that dustbuster!"
     "Oh...oh wow..."
     "Get away from me, creep!" Shadebeam yelled, punching James(mmmxi) in the
nose.  She drew her laser pistol and fired at him, missing and hitting a stack
of requisition forms instead.  The stack of forms reeled, grew, and lashed
     "Look out!" Lark yelled.  "Take cover!"
     Laser fire started echoing randomly around the chamber, as the huge mass
of sentient paperwork produced laser weapons from deep within its paper stacks
and started firing them.  The Time Agents watching the concert were slow to
realize just what was happening, and, as a consequence, were all vaporized,
before they even had a chance to see the bit with Tane and 'the clapper.'
     "Aiiieee!" yelled James(xix).  "It's got me!"  They watched with horror
as the paperwork wrapped around James(xix) and pulled him into itself.  His
fingers were the last they saw of him, as a stack of vacation request forms
swallowed him up.
     The Anarchists, seeing this, started pushing Deans left and right into
the volumes of paperwork.  James(xlv) disappeared screaming into overtime
tracking forms.  James(iv) was lost somewhere in inventory.  James(xiv) was
nearly tossed in by mistake, but he recovered and tossed James(mmmxi) into
health insurance.  Tarrfel and Bata clotheslined James(mxi) and (xxvi), sending
them hurtling into cost overruns, knocking Robert Smith in as well.
     Aside from cost overruns spitting Robert Smith out a few seconds later,
the mass of paperwork heaved, belched, and settled down again.
     "I have a paper cut," Robert commented.   "I'm so depressed."
     "Well, it looks like the battle took down our part of the defense grid,"
Lark said.
     "Yay!" the Anarchists cheered.
     "As well as every other part as well," Lark said.
     "What does that mean?" Gham asked.
     "It means," Lark said, looking grim, "that the OmniDean will be able
to send his full armada in.  I don't know if the Preserves armada will be
enough to defeat them."
     "I'm getting readings," Xiphria said, looking at the screen.  "The
defense grid is down."
     "Excellent," the OmniDean said, smiling roguishly.  "Signal the fleet
to head in."
     "Strange," Xiphria said, as she sent the signal.  "I thought they were
only supposed to knock out one sector."
     "What do you mean?" the OmniDean asked.
     "The whole defensive grid is down," Xiphria said.  "Everywhere."
     "The paperwork may have interfered," the OmniDean said.  "No matter.
When they get here, we shall be able to proceed with our master plan.  Is the
Spam Lite channeler set up?"
     "All we need is the Spam Lite from the barge, and we're ready."
     "Send the signal to the barge," the OmniDean instructed.
     "We're getting a signal from the OmniDean," a tech said.
     "What's old sourpuss have to day?" Kalvin asked.
     "He instructs us to proceed to Time Central," the tech said.
     "Sensors confirm that the defense net is down," another tech reported.
     "Alexander," Kalvin said into his lapel comm.  "Have you dealt with
Megabot yet?"
     There was laser fire from the lapel comm.  "Working on it!" Alexander
     "Very good, Alexander," Kalvin said, sighing.  "Proceed on course,"
the tech said.
     "What course?" the tech asked.
     "To Time Central, of course," Kalvin said.
     "Dear boy, you must learn that no one, simply no one, subjects Kalvin
Certain to the indignities I have been subjected to," Kalvin said.  "We'll
deliver his Spam Lite, all right...right down his blasted throat."

Date:         Sun, 31 Oct 1993 11:28:00 EDT
From:         mexican moon (SWEDE at DRYCAS.BITNET)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists II episode twenty two

Episode Twenty Two: "Alliances" by Gary W. Olson

     Raspberry Preserve harrumphed, as Raspberry Preserve was prone to do.
After having made the journey from the now-destroyed Planet Pincota in record
time, he and the rest of the ancient Preserves had been forced to wait.  They
were out of range of Time Central's defense network weapons, but numerous
warnings had been sent in their general direction.  Raspberry Preserve
wondered, idly, where a computer got the idea to threaten a ship's crew with
forced rectal examination with an oak tree.
     "The defense net is going down!" Cherry Preserve exclaimed.  Raspberry
Preserve ceased his harrumphing and strode over to the sensor array console
where Cherry Preserve sat, the jam inside his jar jiggling as he journeyed.
     "So it is," he said, smiling grimly.  "Alert the fleet!  We move at
     Time Agent 357 fumed, tapping his fingers on his navigational console.
It was frustrating to sit and wait, just out of the range of Time Central's
net weapons.  His ship had been cleverly disguised as a cathedral-sized
asteroid, and had so far eluded the Satanic warship that had been hunting
it, but 357 did not know how much longer that would last.
     "Hey, is that a triple word score?" Mark Hyperthrust asked.
     "It would be," his opponent, Trudy Tetwaters, told him.  "But you can't
     "Oh, please?!"
     "I said, no."
     357 was about to do something drastic involving the scrabble game and
a plasma torch when a light on his console beeped.
     "Satanic warship on the edge of our sensor scopes," 357 said.  "That
means he can detect us."
     "Surely, he won't be able to discern that this asteroid is just a
facade," Mark said.  "The metals in the surface make it virtually inpenetrable
to all sensors!  Why, it was completely by accident that we discovered that it
was hollow..."
     "When you bumped his elbow, causing him to push the thrust button, sending
us into the asteroid," Trudy told him.
     "Hey, it opened up before we hit the surface, didn't it?" Mark asked.
     There was another flashing light on the console.
     "The defense net is down!" Time Agent 357 said, with consternation.  "We
should get going while the going is good..."
     "But what about the warship?" Trudy asked.
     The asteroid rocked with laser fire.
     "It's detected us!" Mark said, looking at his scopes.
     "Never mind," Trudy added.  357 grunted and fired up the engines.  While
in the asteroid, they had found a clever way to seal the rear thrusters into
the enterance to the hollow asteroid, allowing them to move without exiting
the asteroid.
     "Say, don't you find it odd that we can scan out of the asteroid okay, but
can't scan in?" Mark asked.  357 purposefully ignored his question as they
started into Time Central controlled space.
     "I got a hit!  I got a hit!" a Dan Quayle exclaimed.  Another Quayle
'hi-fived' him, while three more Quayles clustered around the battle terminal,
which had been reconfigured to resemble a Sega Genesis console, made envious
sounds, and demanded their turn.
     Ernest Hemingway watched, strangely dissatisfied.  It wasn't very manly,
to hunt in this way.  In fact, it was rather strange.  And annoying.  The
quarry was trapped.  It had no where to escape, no way to fight back.  The
end of the hunt was at hand, yet Hemingway hoped it would continue.
     "Captain!" one of the Quayles called.  "That green light you told me to
watch for is flashing!"
     "It is?" Hemingway asked.  He strode over in a manly manner and looked
at the console.  He nodded.
     "They're powering up their engines," the Quayle said.  "Shall we pursue?"
     "Yes," Hemingway said.  "Now that the Time Central defensive nets are
down, we have a hunt again!"
     In the Concert Hall, inside Time Central, the concert had stopped.  Tane
Tessier put her concert dress back on and stood, blankly, staring out into
open space above the heads of the Time Agents.  The dancing naked James Deans
had gone backstage.  The Time Agents were not protesting, however.
     The reasons they were not protesting were ringed around the Concert Hall,
ten thousand strong, all armed with Insta-Disintegrate Rapid-Fire Tasers aimed
at the Time Agents.  The OmniDean surveyed his James Dean synthezoids with
satisfaction as he strode out onto the stage.
     "Attention!" he called.  "I, the OmniDean, have taken over Time Central.
Even now, my troops are subduing your fellow agents in all quarters of this
large base."  He briefly turned to gaze out the huge viewport as his armada,
ranged outside.  They were most heavily concentrated around what appeared to
be a large funnel, which was linked directly into the power core at the heart
of Time Central.
     In the audience, Time Agent 173 stared up woodenly, while her fellow
agents made noises of consternation and resentment.
     "Do not blame either Ms. Tessier or Time Agent 173," the OmniDean said.
"Better than they have attempted to resist my mind control techniques, and
     "You don't have the chief yet!" Saran Scone, Time Agent 362634, exclaimed.
     "Or Zark Flyby!" Bahbneu Haht, TIme Agent 999, added.
     "We will have them soon," the OmniDean said.  "In the meantime, my plan
to take control of the galaxy will proceed.  Once the Spam Lite has been loaded
into the power core of this base, taking over the galaxy will be a snap."
     "Did you ever think about maybe getting an oil change for that hair?"
Jerye Zinefelt, Time Agent 1492, asked.  The OmniDean signaled one of his
synthezoids, who disintegrated Jerye.  Bilge, standing nearby, grimaced.
     "The only reason I don't disintegrate all of you now is because you are
going to become my new army," the OmniDean said.  "With your skills, the galaxy
cannot stand against me."
     "Never!" Saran exclaimed.
     "Oh, really?" the OmniDean asked, indicating Time Agent 173.  Beside the
OmniDean, Xiphria smiled, and blew kisses to the Time Agents in the front row.
     Millions of light years away, someone overloaded a power socket on planet
Kalgon Beta, and the planet subsequently blew up.
     "Get back here!" Zark bellowed violently.
     "Geez, he found us again!" Shadebeam yelled, ducking as another barrage
of violent laser fire soared overhead.  Slithis tugged on her arm, and she
followed him and the rest of the Anarchists as they ran down the corridor.
There was a door open at the end, that they dived through.  Bata hit the
door closing button, and the door slid shut.
     "Let's hurry," Emma said.  "Find somewhere to..."
     "Can I help you?" a voice asked.
     "Eeep!" they exclaimed.
     "I knew he was there," Bata added.  Shadebeam belted him in the stomach.
     "Say, aren't you..." Benjen started.
     "The Chief of Time Central, yes," the tall, thin man with light hair
and a disturbing resemblence to the Earth pop star known as 'Sting'.  "And
you are..."
     "Kill!" Zark yelled, lurching in violently.
     "Zark!  Stop!" the guy who looked like Sting yelled.  Zark saw the chief
and immediately saluted.
     "Now, tell me what is going on," he said, to Emma.
     "You don't know?" Emma asked, incredulously.
     "No," the Chief said.  "I've been rather busy of late."
     "We've heard," Tarrfel said, giggling.  The Chief arched an eyebrow at
them, as they looked from him to his blue turtle, Floyd, and back to him.
     "I've been busy with this project," he said, finally.  He pointed to
an elegant, Hildagan Emerald Harp, a truly rare and valuable item that art
collectors would have paid trillions of credits for.  There was a construct
built around it, apparantly a fortress of some kind, built out of legos.
Another construct, a bridge made out of lincoln logs, stretched towards it,
apparantly half-completed.
     "First I built this fortress around my harp," the Chief said.  "Now, if
you'll let me build this bridge..."
     "There's no time!" Gham exclaimed.  "The OmniDean has taken over Time
Central!  Look!"  She turned on the vid-screen on the far wall of the Chief's
office, and it lit up, displaying a view of the OmniDean gloating over captive
Time Agents, while ten thousand James Dean synthezoids guarded them.
     "What?" the Chief exclaimed.  "Impossible!"  He marched over and stabbed
a comm button.  His voice echoed through the auditorium as he spoke.
     "Attention," he said.  "I don't know who you are, but you've just made
a very big mistake."
     "Have I?" the OmniDean asked.  "If I have, what are you going to do
about it?"
     "I *will* kill youuuuu!" the Chief yelled, overacting.
     "I don't think so," the OmniDean said.  "Unless you come down here and
surrender.  If you don't, I'll instruct my synthezoids to disintegrate every
Time Agent in the base."
     "Go ahead," the Chief said.  "Every Time Agent would rather die than
allow you victory!"
     "Actually," one of the Time Agents said.  "I don't think I would."
     "Me neither," another agreed.
     "That wasn't in my contract," a third added.
     "On the other hand," the Chief said, hurriedly.  "I'll be down there in
ten minutes."
     "Excellent," the OmniDean said.  "Don't keep me waiting any longer."
The Chief pushed the button again, and the comm panel shut down.
     "Well, that could have gone better," Benchen commented.
     "Is now a good time to be depressed?" Robert Smith asked.
     "What do we do now?" Lark asked.
     "Lark!" the Chief exclaimed.  "Lark Purree!  Time Agent 90210!"
     "You recognize me?" Lark asked.
     "Of course!" the Chief said.  "I know everyone here.  Only...why do you
have a ladies' undergarment fused to your hair?"
     Lark suddenly turned beet red, and pulled the hood back over his head.
     "It's a long story," he finally managed to say, sparing a withering glance
at Gham, who smiled cutely back at him.
     "If I may," Emma said.  "I think I have an idea.  We'll need Zark's help,
     "Um, who are you, anyway?" the Chief asked.
     "We're the Renegade Anarchists," Jerriphrrt purred.
     "Oh, yes," the Chief said.  "I liked your first series better."
     They glared at him.
     "Zark," he said to the lieutenant, who was still saluting.  "Work with
these Renegade Anarchists.  They have a plan to liberate Time Central from the
James Deans who have taken it over."  He paused, noticing a James Dean was
among them.
     "It's okay," James(xiv) said.  "I'm with them."
     "But, sir!" Zark protested.
     "You have your orders," the Chief told him.  "Or would you like me to
sentence you to a week of fingerpainting and sing-a-longs on the Kindergarden
     "N-n-no, sir!" Zark exclaimed.
     "You'll like our plan," Shadebeam said.  "You get to kill a lot in it."
     "Ready for orders!" Zark bellowed violently, suddenly very enthusiastic.
     "Good luck," said the Chief, as he started to leave his office.
     "Wait," Katayin said.  "What's your name?"
     The chief started to answer, but stopped.
     "I'll get back to you on that," he finally said, before leaving.

Date:         Thu, 4 Nov 1993 22:34:00 EDT
From:         mexican moon (SWEDE at DRYCAS.CLUB.CC.CMU.EDU)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists II episode twenty three

Episode Twenty Three: "Plan?  We Have a Plan?" by Gary W. Olson

     A hush fell over the crowd in the Grand Concert Hall as the guy who looked
like Sting and was the Chief of Time Central entered.  Five James Dean
synthezoids flanked him, their laser weapons trained on him like ugly on an
ape.  The Time Agents parted as he made his way to the stage where the
OmniDean stood, his nine-foot-tall frame towering above everyone else, even
the seven foot tall Xiphria.
     "Hello," the Chief said, noncommittally.
     "So, we meet at" the OmniDean said.
     "Just call me Chief," the Chief said.  "I'm still trying to remember my
     "No, I'll not call you that," the OmniDean said.
     "Well, how about Gordon Sumner?" the Chief asked.
     "I think not."
     "Hmmm...okay."  The OmniDean paused.  "So we meet at last...Chuck."
     "Yes, we do," the Chief replied.
     Several minutes passed.
     "Um...why do you have only one sideburn?" the OmniDean finally asked.
     "I'm eccentric," the Chief replied.
     "Okay, the Chief has made contact," Lark Purree, Time Agent 90210, said.
"My sideburn is picking up the signals and transmitting them to me clearly."
Actually, his sideburn was transmitting them to his other sideburn, which Lark
currently had attached to its cyberport just in front of his left ear, and that
sideburn, in turn, was transmitting the signals to the processing buffers in
his head.  But as a generalization, his statement was more or less accurate.
     "What's the next step?" Katayin asked.
     "Step?" Jerriphrrt asked.  "In what?"
     "In our plan," Katayin said.
     "Plan..." Jerriphrrt said.  "Plan...say, Slithis, do we have a plan?"
     "Not since episode one," Slithis replied.
     "Forget I asked," Katayin snarled.
     "I knew they'd say that," Bata said, smugly.
     "Look, dickweed," Shadebeam said.  "If you're so goddamn smart, what
should we do next?"
     "We should take up positions around the ring of James Dean synthezoids
that are holding the Time Agents hostage," Bata said.  "Lt. Flyby, of course,
will conduct the opening, very, very, violent barrage against them, while
we make our way through the ensuing chaos to capture the OmniDean."
     "That's what I was going to say," Benjen grumbled.  Tarrfel bopped him.
     "Going into battle depresses me," Robert Smith whined.
     "Would you rather stay out?" Emma asked.
     "That would depress me even more," Robert replied.
     "Everyone ready to move out?" James Dean(xiv) asked.
     "Aye!" the Anarchists replied.  James(xiv) hit the door opening signal,
and the Chief's office door slid open, to reveal a short, white-mustached
man carrying a small box.
     "Aieee!" he exclaimed, as Gham blasted a hole in the wall just above his
head.  "Don't shoot!  I surrender!"
     "Hey, it's Boku!" exclaimed Slithis.
     "Like the fruit juice?" Zark Flyby asked, angrily.
     "No!" Boku said.  "Um...hello!"
     "Boku, how did you get here?" Emma asked.
     "I escaped from the OmniDean's ship," Boku said.  "Time Agent 173 rescued
     "She's here too?" Shadebeam asked.
     "Yes," Boku said.  "Unfortunately, the OmniDean captured her, and forced
her to guide him to Time Central.  She's under his mental control right now,
as is Tane Tessier."
     "We're on our way to the auditorium now," Benchen said.  "Care to join
     "Yes," Boku said.  "I desire revenge on the OmniDean for the destruction
of my planet."
     "But he didn't destroy it," Lark said.  "Cylla did."
     "It's okay," Boku said.  "I'm in denial."
     "Whatever," Shadebeam grumbled.  "Let's get going..."  Boku focused on
her, and blinked.  Short, spiked blonde hair...a gold ear-to-nose chain...
     "Er, one moment," Boku said, holding the box towards Shadebeam.  "I'm
supposed to give this to you, I think."
     "I don't have time to be propositioned," Shadebeam said, following Gham
and Jerriphrrt into the hallway.  Boku sighed and followed the Anarchists
and allies thereof.
     On the bridge of the OmniDean's flagship, James(i) watched his master
converse with the Chief of Time Central.  The work on the Spam Lite Funnel
was complete - all that remained to be done was the physical loading of the
Spam Lite into the power cores of Time Central.  Then...power would be
     "Sir..." James(ii) said.
     "Not now," James(i) said.  "I'm reveling."
     ", what?"
     "I'm reveling."
     "In what?"
     "Our impending victory."
     "I see."
     "What is it?"
     "We're under attack."
     "Oh, is that al--we're under attack?!??!"
     "Yes, sir," James(ii) said.  "Our computers identify the ships as being
the Grand Armada of the Preserves."
     "Alert the OmniDean at once!" James(i) ordered.  "Return fire!"
     From the Grand Concert Hall, the OmniDean, Xiphria, Tane, the Chief,
assorted Time Agents, and various James Dean synthezoids watched as flashes
of light stabbed through the darkness of the void outside the huge picture
viewport, as the battle was engaged.
     "Foolish Preserves," the OmniDean finally said.  "They fight with
antique ships, and antique tactics.  They don't stand a chance."
     No one noticed as fourteen dingleberry bushes sidled in nonchalantly.
     "You weren't counting on this to save you, were you, Chuck?" Xiphria
asked, sliding around the Chief and massaging his shoulders.
     ", no," the Chief said.
     "Then what?" Xiphria asked.
     "Kiiiiilllllllllllll!!" Zark Flyby yelled violently, leaping into the
room, mega-blaster cannons blasting from each hand, blowing away row after
row of James Dean synthezoids, Time Agents, walls, folding chairs, or
whatever else happened to be in the way.  Most of the Time Agents, having had
to go through this as part of their daily routine, immediately hit the floor.
     "Get him!" the OmniDean ordered, as synthezoids kept falling like rice
     "Not so fast!" one of the dingleberries yelled.  Emma Goldman stood up and
fired her laser weapon at the OmniDean, who ducked.  The rest of the Renegade
Anarchists, and allies thereof, sprang out from behind their bushes and
attacked the ring of synthezoids surrounding the Time Agents.
     The Time Agents themselves, seeing that they were apparantly being
rescued, leapt into action, battling James Deans hand-to-hand, hand-to-
pseudopod, hand-to-insert-appendage-here.  The Anarchists stopped firing,
as their targets got too closely intermingled with those they were trying to
     Zark Flyby, obviously, was not too concerned with that last point.
     "Hmmm," BRENDA said, modeling in front of the computer screen.  "I wonder
if he would like this one..."
     "Yes, Cylla?" BRENDA asked, startled.
     ((The ultimate battle for the control of the fate of the galaxy has
begun,")) Cylla told her.
     "What?!?" BRENDA asked.  "They started it without me?"
     Ten seconds later, she was out the door and dashing down the corridor.
     "Sir!" James(ii) exclaimed.
     "What is it now?" James(i) asked, looking up from battle reports.  The
battle was going tougher than expected, and already, the armada had lost
a fair number of ships.
     "We've sighted the Spam Lite barge on our scopes," James(ii) reported.
     "They're coming in here in the middle of a space battle?" James(i) asked.
"They must be insane!"
     "Hell-llo, dear synthezoids!" Kalvin Certain's voice sang over the
intercom.  "This is just to let you know that, as a proper and cultured
gentleman, I have absolutely no malice towards any of you for capturing
me and tying me up, almsot fatally creasing my suit.  None whatsoever.  So
I hope you won't take it too terribly personally when I ram this ship down
the funnel you've constructed at full throttle."
     "He wouldn't..." James(i) said, slowly.
     "Oh, but I would!" Kalvin insisted.
     "Blast that ship!" James(i) ordered.
     "Blast this, blast that," Kalvin said.  "You really ought to lighten
up, you know that, my dear boy?"
     "Turn off that damn intercom!" James(i) ordered.
     Time Agent 173 swung her fist, socking James Dean(xi) in the nose quite
violently.  The attack had disrupted the OmniDean's mental hold on her, and
she was determined not to let him regain it.  Similarly, Tane Tessier had
regained control of herself, though she seemed more concerned about finding
a haven of any sort from the random gunfire, excessive violence, and
gratuitous explosions.  So was most everybody else within range of Zark
     "Look, I really do think I need to give you this," Boku said, as Shadebeam
blasted the head off of James(ix).  He tried to give her the box.
     "What...can't this wait?" Shadebeam asked, angrily.  "What is it,
     "I don't know," Boku confessed.  "But I was told by the person who
gave it to me that your genetic code would activate it, and that it would
extract a hideous revenge upon the OmniDean and his cronies."
     "Hmmm," Shadebeam said.  "Well, okay, give it here."  Boku held the
box out towards Shadebeam, but before she could grab it, a synthezoid
sent flying by a spectacular drop-kick from Saran Scone, Time Agent 362634,
sent it flying out of his hands.  It bounced off of Jerriphrrt's head,
ricocheted off the wall, jarred Zark's arm into blasting the floor underneath
him, flew violently into the air, and eventually landed in the outstretched
palm of the OmniDean.
     "Oops," the Chief said, weakly.  The sideburn on his head gleeped and
leapt off, zipping through the crowd in search of Lark Purree.
     "Now you shall never defeat me," the OmniDean said, laughing evilly.
     Lark's eyes narrowed, as he stood directly in front of the OmniDean.
     "You force me to do this," he said, finally.
     "Force you to do what?" the OmniDean asked.
     In reply, Lark removed the hood from his head.  The OmniDean fired
his concealed ray blaster, the deadly ray from which bounced harmlessly
against Lark's hair.  Lark inched forward, using his hair as a shield as
the OmniDean tried more powerful and spectacular weapons, without
     "Hey!" exclaimed Slithis.  "Isn't that the Spam Lite barge?"
     "I think it is," Xiphria said.  "'s coming in at full speed!
It's going to crash into us!"

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