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 peonies 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 into the room I'd been staying in. Oh no! I hope this turns out okay....*
*translated from original Japanese


Chapter 10

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 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 came to a long corridor, lined with soft white bulbs. It was eerie to find this place in the Centre. The walls were damp and slimy and it smelled as though something had been festering there for quite some time. It was actually under the Centre, perhaps in the sewers. That would explain the slime on the walls and the constant,distant dripping sound. He looked ahead of him for possible hazards and saw various puddles in front of him. Again conscious of his noise and movement, Fordo made his way gingerly through the tunnel. The air was damp and cold, making his nose run slightly and his hands in their fingerless gloves cold. Fordo's foot slipped slightly, causing him to stifle a sudden cry. This would take forever. Now his strides were even 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 somehow 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 undoubtable. 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 frozen 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 black hair was thrown up into a messy bun and clamped with chopsticks into its place. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly. Ikimasu, Fordo-san.

God, I'm glad to see you.

*

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 cheque 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

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Sorry, we still can't find chapter nine. I hope the recap helped. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Must go to flunk Algebra class. Away!

Kirily Wood