RedPiggy
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Apr 9, 2008
- Messages
- 5,125
- Reaction score
- 400
Author’s Note: I haven’t abandoned my Dinosaurs’ Fanfic. This is just my sequel idea for the Comeback King: a series of one-shots.
The Blueprints and the Hole
The small room was barely illuminated by a small forty-watt bulb in the center, dangling down from a thin wire to a steel conical lampshade. It was like an empty storage room. Well, actually, it was … since that was what Ms. Ardath had been using it for ever since Dr. Jerome Christian moved to Arizona to continue his archaeology work. It had been twenty-three years since “Doc” had moved, leaving the strangest thing in the bare room.
She kept it in her bedroom across the street at the Captain’s Inn. Her bed and breakfast was one of the few successful businesses to survive the round of eminent domain running rampant along the coast. The apartment complex where Doc had lived had been bought by Ms. Ardath, but the time was coming when she would have to do something or the bureaucracy would bulldoze it.
She stared at the two-foot-high hole in the wall. Various inspectors had complained about the hole in the past. However, so far, she had been able to argue that rats can’t make a hole like that. Today, however, someone from the Water Department was coming. She looked at her watch, pressing on the indiglo button so she could see it better. The sixty-four-year old Caucasian woman with the light blue suit and yellow blouse silently grumbled about her failing eyesight.
Four o’ clock in the afternoon.
She frowned. The person she was supposed to meet was supposed to meet her at noon.
Long lunch, she muttered to herself.
“Mrs. Betty Ardath?” asked a young female voice from behind.
Ms. Ardath turned, jumping nearly six inches. “Ms. Ardath … I didn’t hear you come in,” she gasped.
The young woman, looking to be about twenty-five or so, wore her long black hair over her thin bespectacled face on the left side. Her dark red lips contrasted sharply with her pale skin. She smiled, adjusting her white blouse and black slacks. “I deeply apologize, ma’am,” she said, bowing slightly. Ms. Ardath could see a pale scar running vertically across one eye. The woman stood straight again and smiled warmly. “I’m with the Water Department.” She stepped closer and shook Ms. Ardath’s hand. “I’m Miss Moraine from the Great Lakes region, originally. I understand there’s some issues with the piping here?”
“Uh ….”
Miss Moraine continued to smile. “Ms. Ardath. I’m on your side. While I do agree with your local bureaucratic morons that this place needs development … there are certain … structural issues that must not be ignored.” She nodded. “I’m quite certain you are aware of these issues … or you wouldn’t maintain such derelict buildings.”
Ms. Ardeth shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, dear … but your accent is not from the Great Lakes region.”
Miss Moraine’s face remained unflappable. “There are more lakes in the world than just yours, Ms. Ardath.” She nodded toward the hole. “Do you mind if I take a look at that? There’s a long record of troubles with the piping around here.” The young woman brought out a small PDA and pecked at it with a stylus. “Hm, let’s see … weird noises on a daily basis … unexplained losses of water pressure … groundwater pollution ….” She looked up, the smile leaving her face. “Am I missing anything?”
Ms. Ardath cleared her throat and evaded the woman’s gaze. “Uh, no … I think that covers it.”
The younger woman laughed, putting away her PDA. “No wonder you’re so uptight. I can imagine all the red-tape headaches you’ve had to endure!” She walked past the elderly owner, kneeled before the hole in the wall, which had very jagged edges, leading to a brick wall underneath the paneling, which also had a hole in it. She took out a small penlight and searched the hole, noting a large rock-lined cavern deep within. “Hm,” she muttered. “Piping seems to extend well beyond the property line, Ms. Ardath,” she continued cheerfully.” She stood to face the elderly woman. She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I think my people can take care of this little problem.”
Ms. Ardath held her breath. Her heart started to race. “The previous tenant here was a marine biologist and avid nature watcher --.”
“—Yes,” Miss Moraine interrupted, “Mr. Christian discovered quite a bit off the coast before becoming your employee.” She nodded. “I am quite familiar with his work.”
“Y – you are?”
Miss Moraine chuckled. “I try to keep up to date with marine news.” She held out her hand. “I understand you have the original blueprints? I would like to study them, if you don’t mind.”
Ms. Ardath cocked an eyebrow. “I thought that sort of thing was public record.”
The young woman frowned. “So, only the city has the original copies, then?”
Ms. Ardath pointed to the front door. “I have them at the Captain’s Inn. You want them all?”
Miss Moraine nodded. “It’s important to ensure the accuracy of the blueprints, Ms. Ardath. With any luck, all the problems with the piping in this region can be fixed without … accidentally disrupting the water cycle or the various species currently unlisted on the Endangered Species roster.”
Ms. Ardath sighed, glancing wistfully at the front door. Perhaps this woman knew Doc, she wondered to herself. Maybe he told her about those “Fraggle” things mentioned on the tape. She had never seen one, personally, but she trusted Doc implicitly. He could be on the verge of senility. Her neighbors had teased her for her crush on the “has-been”. However, there was a light in his heart she found endlessly fascinating. She nodded to the young woman. “I’ll go get them, then.”
After Ms. Ardath closed the door behind her, “Miss Moraine” walked over to the water heater, which was still bolted to the wall about six feet from the floor. She was surprised at the small capacity of the device. She pulled a small test tube filled with water out of her pants pocket and pulled off a rubber stopper, letting the liquid flow down the pipe leading from the heater. It ran down toward the floor and entered the pipes going into the wall through small leaks in the joints. Almost immediately, she could hear changes if she closed her eyes. She heard the massive twisting of metal and stone as the pipes throughout the cavern behind the wall shifted. How was it even possible for this infrastructure to affect a region noted for its loose ties to space and time? She placed a hand on the water heater, feeling each individual drop as it flowed throughout the structure both known and unknown to the resident humans in this city. She could sense the water in the pipes leading to a very large reservoir somewhere relatively deep within. There seemed to be a lot of activity in this reservoir. Must be the little rodents, she thought to herself.
She pulled her hand away with a start, her eyes widening in shock.
She could feel traces of her mother’s presence in the water.
Her mother, Mizumi, former Queen of the land of Moraine, a beautiful kingdom home to many water-elementals. A former queen who had disappeared from the universe, it had seemed. She had felt her mother’s hatred in the very water. How could her mother have been so stupid? The Rock was well known to even village idiots living in a magical realm known as the Underground, which was less a description of its physical location and more a snazzy name brought up because it sounded “cool”, to be a vital component of strategic ecological and tactical importance. So long as the Rock could connect any two points throughout the universe, only a complete moron would dare attempt to destroy it.
Moulin was glad she had taken over as Queen of Cups. Her mother had been a fool for centuries. She had grown tired of her mother’s constant whining about Jareth, the King of the Goblins, recently revealed to be the legendary King of the Universe (whatever that meant). The Labyrinth had very little tactical importance by itself. Many magical rulers had the capacity to alter their surroundings at will. Moulin had backed off from the desire to help her mother defeat Jareth when she realized she only wanted it because he had it. To place one’s love-sick emotions over efficient administration was pathetic, she had decided.
Ever since she had caught wind of some human documentary on “cable television”, the off-hand mention of “magical rodents” sparked her interest, especially when she realized who had supposedly seen them. He had found the La Gorgola, an ancient ship off the eastern coast of the United States of the human realm, many years ago. Her mother had not found the news very stimulating, but since Jareth had ties to the Gorgs, it made sense that this “Doc” was referring to Fraggles, who maintained the magic nature of the Rock itself.
Fraggles were very selfish creatures, absorbed intently on their own fun and games, capable of understanding the basics if they were spelled out sufficiently. They weren’t the brightest lights on the chandelier by any stretch of the imagination … but the Gorgs weren’t, either. Fraggles had a notorious reputation throughout the Underground for theft and noise. They didn’t see it as theft or as noise, but, again, they weren’t particularly bright, either. They were either liars or deluded. They would tell you that all property was communal and thus “stealing” was a foreign concept. However, if something went missing from their homes … watch out. They had no problems whatsoever about taking your things. They would claim it was for survival, but Moulin, who had studied archaic ecology growing up, knew better. They took things first … and only then rationalized it, usually by calling it food or something for the maintenance of the Rock. They were like goblins, in that respect … though goblins weren’t passive aggressive about it. Goblins knew they were causing trouble and actually enjoyed it. Fraggles never gave a deep thought to the consequences of their actions.
Ms. Ardath returned half an hour later with an arm full of blueprints. Moulin could see the ink rearranging itself even before she took them from the human. According to the blueprints, there was soon no piping except for the lines leading directly to the city supplies and the sewer lines. All traces of anything about the Rock were completely eradicated. Not that the Rock was on the blueprints, of course, but now the blueprints definitely matched reality. Moulin motioned for Ms. Ardath to inspect the hole. They knelt down, with Moulin assisting the aged woman, and noted the appearance of the back of the wall of the next apartment over, just as one would expect to see from this particular angle.
“How did you --? What about those, uh, ‘endangered species’ you talked about?” Ms. Ardath inquired in a somewhat panicked voice.
Miss Moraine smiled and patted Ms. Ardath on the back. “The piping just needed some adjustments. You’ll find your water pressure improved and a complete lack of that knocking sound anymore.”
“But –.”
“Don’t worry,” Miss Moraine continued. “Like I mentioned before, ma’am – there’s more than one water supply in this world. Feel free to develop this land as you see fit – alternate water supplies have been arranged for any creatures you may have learned about. I’m happy to have helped you.”
The Blueprints and the Hole
The small room was barely illuminated by a small forty-watt bulb in the center, dangling down from a thin wire to a steel conical lampshade. It was like an empty storage room. Well, actually, it was … since that was what Ms. Ardath had been using it for ever since Dr. Jerome Christian moved to Arizona to continue his archaeology work. It had been twenty-three years since “Doc” had moved, leaving the strangest thing in the bare room.
She kept it in her bedroom across the street at the Captain’s Inn. Her bed and breakfast was one of the few successful businesses to survive the round of eminent domain running rampant along the coast. The apartment complex where Doc had lived had been bought by Ms. Ardath, but the time was coming when she would have to do something or the bureaucracy would bulldoze it.
She stared at the two-foot-high hole in the wall. Various inspectors had complained about the hole in the past. However, so far, she had been able to argue that rats can’t make a hole like that. Today, however, someone from the Water Department was coming. She looked at her watch, pressing on the indiglo button so she could see it better. The sixty-four-year old Caucasian woman with the light blue suit and yellow blouse silently grumbled about her failing eyesight.
Four o’ clock in the afternoon.
She frowned. The person she was supposed to meet was supposed to meet her at noon.
Long lunch, she muttered to herself.
“Mrs. Betty Ardath?” asked a young female voice from behind.
Ms. Ardath turned, jumping nearly six inches. “Ms. Ardath … I didn’t hear you come in,” she gasped.
The young woman, looking to be about twenty-five or so, wore her long black hair over her thin bespectacled face on the left side. Her dark red lips contrasted sharply with her pale skin. She smiled, adjusting her white blouse and black slacks. “I deeply apologize, ma’am,” she said, bowing slightly. Ms. Ardath could see a pale scar running vertically across one eye. The woman stood straight again and smiled warmly. “I’m with the Water Department.” She stepped closer and shook Ms. Ardath’s hand. “I’m Miss Moraine from the Great Lakes region, originally. I understand there’s some issues with the piping here?”
“Uh ….”
Miss Moraine continued to smile. “Ms. Ardath. I’m on your side. While I do agree with your local bureaucratic morons that this place needs development … there are certain … structural issues that must not be ignored.” She nodded. “I’m quite certain you are aware of these issues … or you wouldn’t maintain such derelict buildings.”
Ms. Ardeth shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, dear … but your accent is not from the Great Lakes region.”
Miss Moraine’s face remained unflappable. “There are more lakes in the world than just yours, Ms. Ardath.” She nodded toward the hole. “Do you mind if I take a look at that? There’s a long record of troubles with the piping around here.” The young woman brought out a small PDA and pecked at it with a stylus. “Hm, let’s see … weird noises on a daily basis … unexplained losses of water pressure … groundwater pollution ….” She looked up, the smile leaving her face. “Am I missing anything?”
Ms. Ardath cleared her throat and evaded the woman’s gaze. “Uh, no … I think that covers it.”
The younger woman laughed, putting away her PDA. “No wonder you’re so uptight. I can imagine all the red-tape headaches you’ve had to endure!” She walked past the elderly owner, kneeled before the hole in the wall, which had very jagged edges, leading to a brick wall underneath the paneling, which also had a hole in it. She took out a small penlight and searched the hole, noting a large rock-lined cavern deep within. “Hm,” she muttered. “Piping seems to extend well beyond the property line, Ms. Ardath,” she continued cheerfully.” She stood to face the elderly woman. She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I think my people can take care of this little problem.”
Ms. Ardath held her breath. Her heart started to race. “The previous tenant here was a marine biologist and avid nature watcher --.”
“—Yes,” Miss Moraine interrupted, “Mr. Christian discovered quite a bit off the coast before becoming your employee.” She nodded. “I am quite familiar with his work.”
“Y – you are?”
Miss Moraine chuckled. “I try to keep up to date with marine news.” She held out her hand. “I understand you have the original blueprints? I would like to study them, if you don’t mind.”
Ms. Ardath cocked an eyebrow. “I thought that sort of thing was public record.”
The young woman frowned. “So, only the city has the original copies, then?”
Ms. Ardath pointed to the front door. “I have them at the Captain’s Inn. You want them all?”
Miss Moraine nodded. “It’s important to ensure the accuracy of the blueprints, Ms. Ardath. With any luck, all the problems with the piping in this region can be fixed without … accidentally disrupting the water cycle or the various species currently unlisted on the Endangered Species roster.”
Ms. Ardath sighed, glancing wistfully at the front door. Perhaps this woman knew Doc, she wondered to herself. Maybe he told her about those “Fraggle” things mentioned on the tape. She had never seen one, personally, but she trusted Doc implicitly. He could be on the verge of senility. Her neighbors had teased her for her crush on the “has-been”. However, there was a light in his heart she found endlessly fascinating. She nodded to the young woman. “I’ll go get them, then.”
After Ms. Ardath closed the door behind her, “Miss Moraine” walked over to the water heater, which was still bolted to the wall about six feet from the floor. She was surprised at the small capacity of the device. She pulled a small test tube filled with water out of her pants pocket and pulled off a rubber stopper, letting the liquid flow down the pipe leading from the heater. It ran down toward the floor and entered the pipes going into the wall through small leaks in the joints. Almost immediately, she could hear changes if she closed her eyes. She heard the massive twisting of metal and stone as the pipes throughout the cavern behind the wall shifted. How was it even possible for this infrastructure to affect a region noted for its loose ties to space and time? She placed a hand on the water heater, feeling each individual drop as it flowed throughout the structure both known and unknown to the resident humans in this city. She could sense the water in the pipes leading to a very large reservoir somewhere relatively deep within. There seemed to be a lot of activity in this reservoir. Must be the little rodents, she thought to herself.
She pulled her hand away with a start, her eyes widening in shock.
She could feel traces of her mother’s presence in the water.
Her mother, Mizumi, former Queen of the land of Moraine, a beautiful kingdom home to many water-elementals. A former queen who had disappeared from the universe, it had seemed. She had felt her mother’s hatred in the very water. How could her mother have been so stupid? The Rock was well known to even village idiots living in a magical realm known as the Underground, which was less a description of its physical location and more a snazzy name brought up because it sounded “cool”, to be a vital component of strategic ecological and tactical importance. So long as the Rock could connect any two points throughout the universe, only a complete moron would dare attempt to destroy it.
Moulin was glad she had taken over as Queen of Cups. Her mother had been a fool for centuries. She had grown tired of her mother’s constant whining about Jareth, the King of the Goblins, recently revealed to be the legendary King of the Universe (whatever that meant). The Labyrinth had very little tactical importance by itself. Many magical rulers had the capacity to alter their surroundings at will. Moulin had backed off from the desire to help her mother defeat Jareth when she realized she only wanted it because he had it. To place one’s love-sick emotions over efficient administration was pathetic, she had decided.
Ever since she had caught wind of some human documentary on “cable television”, the off-hand mention of “magical rodents” sparked her interest, especially when she realized who had supposedly seen them. He had found the La Gorgola, an ancient ship off the eastern coast of the United States of the human realm, many years ago. Her mother had not found the news very stimulating, but since Jareth had ties to the Gorgs, it made sense that this “Doc” was referring to Fraggles, who maintained the magic nature of the Rock itself.
Fraggles were very selfish creatures, absorbed intently on their own fun and games, capable of understanding the basics if they were spelled out sufficiently. They weren’t the brightest lights on the chandelier by any stretch of the imagination … but the Gorgs weren’t, either. Fraggles had a notorious reputation throughout the Underground for theft and noise. They didn’t see it as theft or as noise, but, again, they weren’t particularly bright, either. They were either liars or deluded. They would tell you that all property was communal and thus “stealing” was a foreign concept. However, if something went missing from their homes … watch out. They had no problems whatsoever about taking your things. They would claim it was for survival, but Moulin, who had studied archaic ecology growing up, knew better. They took things first … and only then rationalized it, usually by calling it food or something for the maintenance of the Rock. They were like goblins, in that respect … though goblins weren’t passive aggressive about it. Goblins knew they were causing trouble and actually enjoyed it. Fraggles never gave a deep thought to the consequences of their actions.
Ms. Ardath returned half an hour later with an arm full of blueprints. Moulin could see the ink rearranging itself even before she took them from the human. According to the blueprints, there was soon no piping except for the lines leading directly to the city supplies and the sewer lines. All traces of anything about the Rock were completely eradicated. Not that the Rock was on the blueprints, of course, but now the blueprints definitely matched reality. Moulin motioned for Ms. Ardath to inspect the hole. They knelt down, with Moulin assisting the aged woman, and noted the appearance of the back of the wall of the next apartment over, just as one would expect to see from this particular angle.
“How did you --? What about those, uh, ‘endangered species’ you talked about?” Ms. Ardath inquired in a somewhat panicked voice.
Miss Moraine smiled and patted Ms. Ardath on the back. “The piping just needed some adjustments. You’ll find your water pressure improved and a complete lack of that knocking sound anymore.”
“But –.”
“Don’t worry,” Miss Moraine continued. “Like I mentioned before, ma’am – there’s more than one water supply in this world. Feel free to develop this land as you see fit – alternate water supplies have been arranged for any creatures you may have learned about. I’m happy to have helped you.”