Chapter Ten

Creation Date: Sat Apr 10, 05:48:55 PM

Status: DRAFT

Recap ::cue peppy anime music and random image projections::

In Chapter Nine, I, Fordo Summers, prepared to leave the Uracil Centre
for
Advanced Science. After packing up everything and getting rid of my
next two
pills, I left a copy of The Communist Manifesto on the bed with my
favourite
passage underlined. I made it to Moscoe's den without any trouble at
all and
"borrowed" the knife from his desk. But right before I went to leave,
the
door started opening! The bloody bastard came in with one of his stupid
peons and I hid quickly. I heard them talking...about me! They were
excited
that I wasn't eating or sleeping, but I left before I could find out
why. I
got to the door in good time and went inside. But the second I got
there,
the night nurse came to the room I'd been staying in. Oh no! I hope
this
turns out okay...*
(*translated from original Japanese)


And now to our regularly broadcast programme


It was very dark and very cold. Fordo pulled his coat close and fumbled
about in the dark. Against the right wall of this tight little passage
was a
frigid iron bar, slanting down to some unknown chasm. With his feet,
Fordo
gingerly explored this territory. A set of stairs slipped downwards to
the
passage the girl had spoken of. He followed them slowly and with
caution,
one hand on the banister and the other against the wall. His eyes
adjusted
slowly, causing him to stay nearly blind during his whole descent.

*

The evening nurse walked to the dinner tray. What a job. Bring the food
for
the stupid kids who don't even eat the shite then drag it away and
throw it
to the kitchen staff who let it rot. She picked up the litter about
sixty
centimetres away. Christ, the Jell's melted. That's so disgusting. The
various articles were re-set on the tray, much to her disgust, and she
headed towards the door. However, something caught her eye. Lying on
the
neatly folded bed was a book. Looking about for any observers, the
woman set
back down the tray and casually came towards her quarry. She picked it
up
and glanced at the open pages. Her eyes widened at the words and her
mind
flew to one certain, undeniable truth. She had to get to Moscoe.

*

The stairs leveled out and Fordo dropped into a dimly-lit passageway.
It was
quite damp down here and cheap halogen bulbs lined the brick walls.
Before
him, Fordo saw a labyrinth of dirty puddles and slippery surfaces. He
made
his way across as carefully as possible and stayed concious of the
noise he
made. Ignoring the cold and his own shallow breaths, he looked around
at
this strange corridor. He was in what appeared to be a sewage system.
How
bizarre for this to be tacked onto the Uracil Centre! Fordo's foot
slipped
slightly causing him to stifle a sudden cry. This would take forever.
Now
his strides were more cautious, but still determined. Anywhere is
better
than the Centre, Fordo thought. Even here.

*

Moscoe had always enjoyed Rorschach blots. They seemed delightfully
irrational. Even those individuals who weren't clinically insane could
somehow find pictures in them. Somehow, these smudges seemed to find
some
tie to the most innocent part of the human psyche. The same part that
let us
see cows and dolphins in our six-year-old masterpieces. Many of his
colleagues felt these juvenile tendencies faltered with maturity. Yet,
he
did not know why, Moscoe knew this was not the case. Nothing ever
really
left us, after all. Those that die remain with their loved ones, at
least to
them, and all our childish beliefs and experiences affect our later
days.
Repression, as Lord Sigmund had said. That was all that mattered.

A girl ran into his office. Her hair seemed more unkempt than protocol
allowed and her breathing was quicker than usual.

"Dr. Moscoe!"

"Yes? Are you to explain your appearance?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry." Her voice was flustered and shaky. "But you'll
want to
see this. I found it in Fordo Summers's room."

A book was handed across the desk to the Doctor and folded open to a
specific page. "Please, Cynthia, I haven't time to read right now-"

"Please, sir. You'll understand."

Sighing, Moscoe glanced over the well-worn pages to a certain passage
highlighted by green ink:


THE COMMUNISTS DISDAIN TO CONCEAL THEIR VIEWS AND AIMS. THEY OPENLY
DECLARE
THAT THEIR ENDS CAN BE ATTAINED ONLY BY THE FORCIBLE OVERTHROW OF ALL
EXISTING SOCIAL CONDITIONS. LET THE RULING CLASSES TREMBLE AT A
COMMUNIST
REVOLUTION. THE PROLETARIANS HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT THEIR CHAINS.
THEY
HAVE A WORLD TO WIN.


*

The passageway ran its course to another set of stairs as slippery and
dank
as the corridor that spawned them. Fordo made his way up these slightly
lopsided from the weight of his bag. He shouldn't have brought so many
books, that was indubitable. It was a slow journey, far too cautious to
his
liking and far too close to crawling than practicality allowed.

These stairs were much shorter than the previous set. In fact, Fordo
found
himself at a doorway quite sooner than he expected and was soon
outside.
Before him was a desert of concrete and illuminated towers where
anonymous
persons sat watching their surroundings.

"Brilliant," he sighed sarcastically. "Now what?" He shoved his frigid
fingers into the depths of his coat pockets and let out a visible
breath.
Eru, it was cold out. His fingers tapped a scrap of paper forgotten and
buried in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the contents.
BASIL
BAKER. "Basil Baker, eh? Hell, I'll take all the help I can get." He
closed
his eyes. "Okay, Basil. Can you maybe help out a bit? I'm sort
of...stuck."

Took you long enough. Suddenly beside him was the girl. She was decked
out
in black from head to toe and her midnight hair was thrown into a messy
bun
and clamped with chopsticks into its place. Her dark, almond-shaped
eyes
widened slightly. Ikimasu, Fordo-san.

God, I'm glad to see you. They headed out towards the gate.

*

Up in the tower, Peter Fell could see everything. The trees were breezy
below him and the coffee in his hand was warm. Guard duty wasn't so
bad, no
matter what he was previously told. The pay was good and he could still
have
time for dinner with the wife and kids. The receiver on his belt beeped
and
he answered it quickly.

"Fell here."

"Fell, Summers has escaped."

"Escaped?"

"Yes. Keep your eyes peeled. If he gets away it'll come out of your
check
and all the other lazy-ass U-Guards posted on the perimetre."

"Understood."

Peter Fell had perfect vision, night goggles and the best binoculars
money
could buy. No stupid kid would get away from him unnoticed.


...But Hiroko Pocky was not a stupid kid.


END PART I


-----------
Okay, I'll admit it. I got sick of waiting for Kapital 9 to show up and
just
decided to put up this one. Sorry if something doesn't make sense. Feel
free
to ask me! There probably won't be updates until after Less Mess simply
for
practical purposes *ducks flying objects* but if you come see it, I
might
just get something up. I'm not plugging the show. Of course not...

Must go! Must buy! EAT *stratches out* DRINK AT JONES!!!1!

Kirily Wood.