Last part is now here. Celebrate!
I feel that any comments help writers and their writing so
if you have any requests, comments, or critiques
e-mail me at bdaly@ns.cois.com.
Enjoy!
Timelords
Part 7: Miracles of Nature
Signs of destivastation were all around. Smoldering debris was
the only thing left of the El Mercado. Pipes stuck out
ackwardly from jagged pieces of cement that were once walls that
piled up in random locations. Under one of these piles
something stirred, something survived. Then it paused until it
realized its existience and pushed against the weight of rumble
more and more when it at last broke free. A dirty, tired, and
angry Tracer glared into the eyes of the bewildered Society
guard that meakly glanced into the burning eyes of the timelord.
"WHERE. ARE. THEY." Tracer bellowed as he grabbed the
collar of the guard.
As the guard made a terrible mistake and was going to suffer,
he began to cry. Tracer saw the man's crying as insubordination
and with everything else that happened to him this night made
him snap. Tracer in a fury of anger began screaming at the man
while punching the man hard repeatedly.
"Wheredidtheygo!? HUH!? Wheredidtheygo!!!!??" Tracer's words
came quickly as he unmercilessly continued to beat upon the man.
The man finally began losing conciousness and began to talk
with his mouth full of silver, red blood. Tracer stopped his
beating when he realized the man was trying to talk.
"Moo. . . Moon." he finally managed to say before his eyes
rolled to the back of his head.
"What?" Tracer breathed out as he pondered a moment until he
he tried to shake the man concious, "What in hell are you
talking about? What Moon? Huh? Which Moon? Moon who?"
Tracer let go of the man, realizing he wasn't going to get him
anywhere. He pulled out his gun and shot the man point blank in
the forehead. Tracer then did something unusual, he started to
tremble and felt something roll down his bloody cheek.
'Must be an open wound.' Tracer rationalized and got up
wearily.
Before Tracer could take two steps a bright light appeared in
front of him. Tracer sheilded his eyes from the bright light
until it diminished and revealed to be an old man with a white
goatee and long white hair in a dusty cloak.
"Briar?" Tracer asked ferociously and lashed out at the old
man, "What in hell are you doing here, huh? Doing a salvage
run, old man?"
Tracer was waving his gun in Briar's direction dangerously.
The old man just gave Tracer a serious and disapointed look, as
Briar retorted, "Tracer why did you kill that man? He didn't
deserve a fate like that."
"Huh?" Tracer was slightly caught off guard by the old man's
serious attitude, "He was a bedamned Society member, Briar!!
That's a reason enough for his fate, and if you aggrivate me
anymore I'll blow your freaking brains to the next dimesion like
him."
Briar fixed his eyes at Tracer and continued, "Tracer right now
you need allies. Considering that your loyalties to the
Counsule are shaky after looking into their private archives and
that you don't know where you're ex-teacher has left to. Yes, I
do believe you need one."
Tracer's mouth dropped, "Ho-how did you-"
"Did I know that? Tracer I'm a prophet. I've known this was
going to happen a long time coming. I know what there is to
know about you and the universe." the old man said seriously
with just a hint of pride in his voice.
Tracer looked at his friend in amazement, then Tracer realized
something, "You knew about all of this all the time! You knew
that he- and that this would-, grrrrrrrr!"
The old man noticed the increasing frustration in Tracer's
voice and tried to downplay it, "Tracer, I knew those things
would happen, but I couldn't prevent them or risk something
worst happening in their place. All those times I wanted to say
something when I couldn't, I had to deal with it as best as I
could. That is why I gave you that sword, to protect you from
being destroyed."
Tracer looked down at the sword still strapped to his hip,
still glowing brightly, "You mean this kept me from getting
blown up and from getting crushed by Halebit?"
Briar nodded his head and continued in a comforting voice,
"Yes, and it does much more."
"Like what?" Tracer asked excitedly gazing at the sword.
"That is something that you'll have to figure out on your own."
Briar answered as Tracer stared at him in irritation.
Tracer paused and returned his gaze at the sword and said,
"You're a prophet, right?"
"Correct." Briar said in anticipation of the follow-up
question.
"Then tell me where that bastard Halebit is." Tracer demanded
as he looked at the old man with murder in his eyes.
Briar wearily answered, "Look into the middle jewel Tracer."
Tracer sneered in dismay, but did what Briar suggested. Tracer
stared into the red jewel until all he could see was red, he
felt his mind getting pulled into the sword. He was searching
for one thing and he suddenly trusted that the sword would
reveal it. He wanted to know where Halebit was going. The red
faded from his vision and a hazy vision came to him, a vision of
a goddess, a blonde goddess with two ponytails that came from
two small spheres on her head. The goddess was looking down
into her hands clasped in her lap, drawing his vision towards
it. It was something that was emmiting white light, good,
wholesome white light. It was a crystal. . . a silver crystal.
Tracer snapped out of the trance and dropped his sword in
astounishment as he said, "The Imperium Silver Crystal Time
Stream?"
"Good, Tracer." Briar said solemnly.
Tracer eagerly picked up the sword and beamed happily at Briar
as he said, "I'm going there and shoving this sword right up
his-"
"Wait a second Tracer." something in Briar's voice made Tracer
stop dead in his tracks, "You shouldn't be so reckless, it will
be your ultimate downfall. You have to stand back and observe
before you act."
There was a pause and Briar continued, "It's the only way
you'll defeat Halebit."
Tracer looked at Briar questionably, prompting Briar to say,
"I'm a prophet, Tracer, trust me."
Tracer smiled wearily as he responded, "Alright Briar, for some
God forsaken reason I trust you and I will take your advice.
Mind you only until I see it isn't working."
Tracer started to walk away when Briar stopped him once more,
"Oh, by the way, Tracer you'll need need a helping hand against
Halebit."
Tracer whizzed around to see Briar produce a bag of round
objects and Tracer curiously walked over to the old man. When
Tracer was close enough Briar reached into the bag to produce a
black round object.
"This is an anti-matter bomb. All you have to do is put your
palms on opposite sides of this line and twist." Briar
explained as he pointed out a crevise on the ball, "Then you'll
have about 10 seconds to get as far away as possible. It
produces one spectular explosion."
Tracer gave Briar an inquizsitive look, making Briar respond
nervously, "What?"
"Why are you giving me this, after that big talk?" Tracer
asked suspiciously.
"C'mon. Be glad I'm bending the rules of prophecy for you."
Briar said defensively.
Tracer shook his head and was engulfed in a brilliant light and
disappeared. Once Tracer disappeared Briar signed in relief as
he started to talk to the air next to him.
"I hope he developes his morals quickly. Or they're all
doomed."
A ghostly voice responded with the wind, "You know it will
happen. Why are you doubting it?"
Briar looked at the rumble he was standing on and desolation
surrounding him, confirming he was alone. Then he answered the
disembodied voice, "I just wonder how many are going to suffer
before he does, Overlord."
The voice was faint but distintive as it said, "Not to worry,
Briar, he has the sword. It will guide him as it did you and
your son, Trekker."
The End. . .
Has Yet to Come
Tracer's story continues in Terrible Things to Waste coming soon (hopefully). . .
All original characters are owned and copyrighted (c) by brian daly 1997.
BUT any other characters are owned by Naoko Takeuchi and DIC
(care to guess who?)
Author's Notes:
Thank you all for taking your time to read my story, I love you all.
Platonicly.
THANKS:
At home thanks:
I would to thank first off Roseanna for helping me do the primary editing,
Jeff for pushing me to elevate my quality of writing, and Stephaine Hines
for her support and encouragement.
On-Line thanks:
I also would like to thank David Johnston, Kim, and Demonsword for their
comments and interest in my story.
Plus the FFML for giving me a forum to have others veiw my work.
EXPLAINATIONS:
Now I have some explaining to do.
Some questions have been raised about a few aspects about
this story. First is why did I spell Counsule wrong?
Well I spelled it wrong to give the feeling of seperation between these 'travelers' and
ourselves. Much like the Romans spelled some words differently from ones we use today.
Then there are questions as to the space-time rip. Yes, the rip caused the 'travelers' blood
to mercury. An experience comparable to cancer occuring to the survivors of atomic bombs.
Lastly where in heck did this idea come from?
This idea is an idea milling around in my head for the past TEN years, that begged
to be released (do you blame me?).
If you have any questions just e-mail me at bdaly@ns.cois.com, I'll be pleased
to answer!
INSPIRATIONS:
Many, many things. Songs from Gravity Kills, Ministry, Orbital, Prodigy, Moby,
Mary's Danish (what never heard of them?), and Phillip Glass.
Assorted events and people in my life.
Books like 1984, Ender's Game,and Jurrasic Park.
Support early on from Atremis and Luna with their rather large archive at
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/9897/
And of course fanfiction of the like from
Chris Davies
http://www.ualberta.ca/~cdavies/hmpage.html,
Strike Fiss
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/9110/,
Jim (plain and simple)
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/5214/,
Tim Nolan, Levar Bouyer, and Greg Sandborn.
SHAMELESS PLUG:
Look for the sequel to Timelords, Terrible Things to Waste.
INFAMOUS LAST WORDS:
Thanks again, this me signing off until next time.
the brian