Robotech: Snipes in Wonderland 
                    ONE HOUR CHALLENGE EPISODE
                       By J. Austin Wilde


J. Austin Wilde, K.B.C.S.
Head Ranger, Fission Park Press
wildeman@flash.net



                           WARNING:
             <<This fanfic uses harsh language>>

____________________________________________________________________
Robotech: Snipes in Wonderland
Special Episode: The Twilight Zone




     “How the hell did we get *this* job?” Rod Fowler groused to 
no-one in particular. At least in his mind, his diminutive partner 
Jimmy “Stick” Stave counted as no-one.
     “I dunno, what did ya say this time to piss Milo off?” Doomsday 
asked.
     “Nothing as far as I know.”
     Stick took it in stride as he hefted the heavy tool box.
     “Beats trying to rig that primary bus transfer unit into place.”
     Rod hated agreeing with Stick, but in this instance it was true 
enough. Trying to hoist a six ton piece of Robotech machinery into 
a space with only a few centimeters of clearance was a harrowing 
experience in the best of times. Being stranded in deep space a 
few billion miles from Earth while facing off against an armada 
of alien warships did not qualify as the best of times.
     They stopped in front of a large airtight door. The section of 
the SDF-1 they now stood in marked one of the boundaries 
between the human restoration and remodeling of the battlefortress 
and the original specifications of the ship’s designer, whoever (or 
whatever) he was.
     The large red and white sign on the door complemented the 
black and yellow safety striping that cordoned the portal and left 
no doubt in the minds of any who saw it that this was door best left 
closed. Upon the sign were printed the following legends:

________________________________________________________________________

                  CONTINUUM INSTABILITY ZONE: 
           COMMANDING OFFICER’S PERMISSION REQUIRED
                     BEYOND THIS POINT

     Personnel entering this space must be aware of unusual 
space-time effects upon the body while within the CIZ. Take 
great care in moving about the space. Personal communications 
equipment may not function at all times. Vertigo or similar
disorientation may be experienced.

                       RADIATION AREA: 
           PERSONAL DOSIMETRY REQUIRED FOR ACCESS.
 
           CONTROLLED SURFACE CONTAMINATION AREA:

     Surface contamination may be in excess of 450 micro-micro 
curies per 100 square centimeters. A whole body frisk must 
be performed prior to exiting this area.

_______________________________________________________________________

     Below the sign some snipe had spray painted a fairly good 
rendition of “The Twilight Zone” logo in luminescent paint. 

     Stick busied himself with reading the supplemental instructions 
on the door while they waited for CDR Lochland to arrive with the 
keys to the door. Doomsday began unfolding the yellow poly plastic 
sheeting that would serve as their Radiologically Controlled Area 
around the door. He would be the access watch while Rod and Stick 
went inside.
     Rod began to wonder if he still agreed with Stick about rigging 
that bus transfer unit. There were good reasons why the snipes 
called this part of the ship The Twilight Zone. 
     Legend had it that over the ten years of restoration more than 
one reconstruction crew had entered and never returned. Those 
that did had often suffered chronic nightmares or gone totally 
insane. How many of these stories were true and how much just 
yarns for the nubs Rod didn’t know. He had never been beyond 
this door, and he didn’t know anyone who had.
     Lochland arrived only a few minutes later. The Assistant 
Engineer looked stuffier and wound up tighter than usual. Rod 
knew that it was because he had to wake Old Man Gloval to 
get the keys. Permission for this little jaunt had been given 
hours ago, but as Commanding Officer of the SDF-1, Gloval 

wouldn’t give them the keys to the door until they needed to 
enter.
     “Do you have everything you need?” Lochland asked them.
     “Hope so,” Rod replied, then added “Sir,” when Lochland’s 
expression became especially dyspeptic.
     “We need to find that leak,” Lochland told them. “We’re losing 
close to twenty thousand liters of water per day from the secondary 
waste heat exchangers. With the reconstruction of Macross City our 
waste heat load is going to skyrocket. We need those units at full 
capacity.”
     Rod nodded. He knew all of this, but he wasn’t going to let 
Lochland know. Better just to let him spew whatever it was he had 
to say and be done with it.
     “Yes sir, understood.”
     Rod’s response seemed to gratify the Assistant Engineer. 
Lochland took the keys from around his neck and unlocked the 
three locks that secured the airtight door’s operating mechanisms. 
     “Request permission to enter the C-I-Z,” Rod said when 
Lochland had stepped away from the door.
     “Enter the C-I-Z.”
     Doomsday logged the opening of the door in his access log. Rod 
opened the access panel to the door’s power supply with a grunt 
of effort. He then closed the breaker and shut the panel. Next he cut 
in reserve hydraulics to the door through another access panel. 
Finally he touched a button behind the third.
     The airtight door grated open with a hiss of equalizing air. 
Stick jumped a little at the sound. Rod was more concerned with 
the musty smell that emanated from beyond.
     **Bet Lochland tells us to lube the door before he leaves,** 
Rod noted grimly.
     “Just find the leak and get out,” Lochland told them. “I’ll be 
in Central if anything comes up. Notify me at once.”
     He started to leave, then over his shoulder he added, “and 
lubricate that door before you call me to lock it up.”
     Lochland walked down the dim passageway to more habitable 
sections of the ship, not noticing the three middle fingers extended 
in his direction. 
     “Fucking prick,” Rod growled.
     “Time’s wasting,” Doomsday told them. “I come on watch in 
nine hours, and I wanna get a couple hours in the hooch before I do.”
     “Fuck you too,” Rod said curtly and stepped through the door. 
He collared Stick and dragged the kid through with him.



     Being inside the Twilight Zone wasn’t quite what they were 
expecting. It was quiet and dark, but that was because it wasn’t one 
of the habitation areas on board the battlefortress. There was the 
musty smell, but given the lack of any need for large amounts of air 
circulation, that was to be expected as well. 
     What bothered Rod was that nothing was happening.
     They had watched a classified training film in Robotech 
Engineering School about the Twilight Zone. Part of it was a 
reconstruction using actors and special effects of the first 
exploration team to ever enter the SDF-1 following its crash landing. 
The rest was actual footage that had actually made it out of the ship. 
If the horror stories were true, Hell knew what the video units of the 
missing teams had recorded.
     None of the bulkheads seemed to be flowing like water. There 
were no strange sounds coming from nowhere. He checked his watch 
and called Doomsday over the commo to verify that his watch read 
the same time. It did.
     “What’s the big deal with this place?” Stick asked aloud after 
they had wandered down a few hundred meters of winding 
passageways. 
     “Beats the shit outta me,” Rod mumbled. “Not that I mind one bit 
if nothing weird happens.” 
     His small map display seemed to be jiving with where they were 
going. They knew the general location of the water leak because the 
drain trap stowage tanks in this area kept filling without any 
explanation. It was now a question of finding it through the 
labyrinthine maze of dimly lit passageways, crawl spaces, and 
access tunnels.
     “Hey what’s this?” Stick asked in the darkness behind him.
     “What?” Rod replied, spinning around with his flashlight.
     “A flower,” Stick said, holding a wilted flower up to the light. 
It was a faded pink and looked a little like a lily. Two other blossoms 
were twined around a dried up vine.
     “Weird,” Rod said quietly, not realizing his choice of word.
     “I wonder how it could grow down here in the dark?”
     “Not very well from the look of it,” Rod replied. “Leave it 
alone for now; I just wanna find the leak and get the hell out of 
here.”
     “Okay,” Stick said with a shrug. He set the flower up where 
he had found it, an ancillary robotech power supply inadvertently 
disconnected from the grid during the restoration. The power 
supply had failed years ago and began its slow decay...



     They continued on for another hour before finding a stream of 
water flowing along the deck and guttering into a drain grate with 
a happy bubbling sound. 
     “Bingo,” Rod said. “Now all we gotta do is trace it back to the 
leak.”
     He adjusted his commo.
     “You there Doomsday?”
     A crackle followed by Doomsday’s voice replied, “Yeah. What’s 
up?”
     “Found a stream of water on the deck, we’re gonna follow it to 
the leak.”
     “Aye. That was fast.”
     Rod furrowed his brow. “We’ve been in here three hours.”
     “Welcome to the Twilight Zone, it’s only been ten minutes out 
here.”
     Rod suppressed a shudder. “Right. See you whenever.”
     “Not if I see you first.”
     The commo line went dead.
     Stick seemed unfazed by the revelation that they had walked 
through some warp of space-time and not noticed anything.
     “Wonder what coulda come loose down here that the sensors 
didn’t notice right away?” 
     Stick was full of questions today, Rod noted. He decided that 
answering him would go a long way towards his peace of mind.
     “When they rebuilt the ship there were sections they decided 
to human-size. The parts they didn’t touch much of, like this one, 
are still wired into the original alien computers, and they don’t 
always talk to ours when there is a problem.”
     “Kinda like when the automated repair systems don’t work 
in some parts of the ship?”
     “Something like that. This pig’s a bastardized patchwork of two 
very different technologies. It only makes sense that something like 
this would slip between the cracks.”
     This seemed to placate Stick for the moment, and they continued 
on in silence. 



     “You smell something?” Rod asked as they crawled out of a 
bilge level crawlspace in pursuit of the leak.
     “Nope,” Stick replied.
     “I do. Smells like rotten fish.”
     “What’s your girlfriend doing down here?” Stick cackled.
     “Fuck off and die you little shit. I’m serious here.”
     Stick wisely kept his distance. “So am I.”
     Rod stopped. He turned around, and his face illuminated 
from below by the flashlight had an ominous cast to it.
     “You know Stick, I could break your scrawny little fucking 
neck and leave down here in the Twilight Zone and know one 
would even blink when I told them you vanished into thin air in 
front of my wondering eyes...”
     Stick took the hint. He made a exaggerated sniff at the air 
and nearly gagged.
     “Gawd,” he choked.
     “You smell it too, huh? Guess I ain’t hallucinating it.” 
He thought about his words. “Unless we’re both hallucinating the 
same thing...”
     They followed the stream and the smell got stronger. Rod 
nearly retched when he stumbled across the putrid rat eaten 
carcass of a giant fish head. Stick *did* retch.
      “...Christ...”
      Holding his nose, and trying hard not to puke, he made 
his way past the fish head and into a large chamber. A few shafts 
of light streamed down from high above him. The bustle and noise 
of the construction of Macross City was above them. What looked 
like a crude bracing and patching of a breach in the overhead by 
fusion torches seemed to stand out against the smooth alien hull 
metal. 
     “This is where that spare generator crashed through the decking,” 
Rod said aloud. He remembered hearing about it only last week. The 
Civil Engineering clowns had tried to lift twice the capacity of their 
crane and sent a twenty million dollar nuclear heated gas-turbine 
generator through three centimeters of hull-metal deck. He seemed 
to recall that they had rescued two civilians that had somehow gotten 
trapped underneath the city in the process.
     He looked around again for the water stream. It was hotter now, 
and the steam helped to keep the smell down. Stick was nowhere 
to be found. 
     “Stick!” He called out.
     “Over here!” Came the reply. “I found the leak!”
     Rod came at a trot. What seemed to be some kind of makeshift 
shower blocked off most of the passageway. Steam wafted from 
gaps in the sheet metal curtain. Water was everywhere on the deck, 
and he sloshed through it as he walked.
     A pipe joint had broken loose at the flanged connection. He 
could see the bright metal scrape marks where someone had taken 
a piece of bar stock and used it as a pry bar to break the pipe. 
Water sprayed from the pipe, just hot enough to stand on bare skin.
     “What the hell is this?” Rod asked.
     “Looks like a shower,” Stick replied.
     “No shit,” Rod said curtly. “What I meant was, if those civil 
engineering fucks had to come down here to rescue the civvies, 
they could have at least mentioned the fucking water leak as well!”



                             THE END