Game! A War of Worlds

[Victoria Silverwolf]

Amy's boatyard sits in a sheltered bay, safe from the ravages of wind and wave. For a fistful of coins you can rent a skiff from Amy herself and sail out upon the green waters. Seagulls cover the boardwalk that leads to the old fishing pier, fat and lazy from the bait thrown to them by tourists. On a fine day you can see a misty isle on the horizon, a place that isn't on any mariner's chart. Sometimes Amy rows out to it with a boatful of provisions, food that won't spoil and books wrapped in oilcloth. Once in a while she doesn't come back for a day or two, and then she looks years younger.

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The Blind Narrows

 

[Glen]

Here in the Blind Narrows, if we're very quiet, we might catch a glimpse of the feral skink. It is now, the only creature, left surviving, in what was once an area of prolific abundance. Aquatic life, Bird life, mammals, all now sadly perished, falling prey to the toxins and noise of the tourist and sporting industries which, it is estimated, runs in excess of 1500 high speed boats, skimmers, and jet-skis down this waterway each daylight hour.

There. Do you see it?

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The Arctic Bridge

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

Malenka and I were crossing the Arctic Bridge in the Kamchatka Express one fine summer day when I noted an odd spot of bright green light on the horizon. I adjusted my sunglasses to maximum magnification, squinting at glittering icebergs, trying to make out what it might be. "Do not concern yourself, Janos," Malenka said. "I was hoping to surprise you, but I'm afraid our guests have anticipated your arrival. Now do you understand why I dragged you away from that dull SETI conference?"

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Far Tarengo

 

[Glen]

The Far Tarengo low orbit habitation was one of the first such facilities, implemented shortly after the serendipitous discovery of a viable method of inter-stellar travel by the Manhattan project. A discovery that brought the then world war to an abrupt end. The “bulkheads and bolts” design of this vast, cylinder world is now thought to be antiquated, but still functional.

Originally a mining operation, Far Tarengo was home to FIFO miners who alternated between the open spaces of the habitation and the confined spaces of the pressure cabins on the host planet Athelius.

An orbit that gave a sixteen hour day and sixteen hour night suited the hard-work, hard-play culture of the miners, and remains today now the key industry is leisure and gambling. The growth of zero-gravity orchids is perhaps the most quirky and best known business venture, the products of which some find beautiful, and many find deeply disturbing.


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Lake Lithium

 

[Infinite Monkey Typing]

LAKE LITHIUM. Amid the hard, black streets of concrete, it flashes up in the night like a beacon, with holographic lights producing its big, white letters.

The nightclub is placed in the central hub of the capital. You can hear vague, rhytmic beats pulsing out from it into the night. The doorman at its front is actually nice, most of the time. His name is Track, and he's got a bulging eye from a surgical mishap, and his big torso has physical enhancements written all over it.

Track doesn't only let in girls - he let's in everyone with the right genes and the right looks, and if you belong to the current crowd, you can enter. But even if you get inside, Track's going to keep an eye on you, especially if you're new, staring after you with his menacing eye.

Coming this far, it is as if stepping inside another world. Darkness and light shifts in a blinking dance, and reveals the faces of people in brief flashes, giving you the sense of time slowing down. As you come to its center, a great pool extends out, its water silvery-white and inviting. People swim around in the pool, fully clothed, but allowing themselves to become wet. Although the hall is heat-regulated, it does get hot, and a nice swim is a great way to cool yourself down, meeting new people. But most of those in the pool stay in their own world. It's said that the water is chemically altered, stimulating certain parts of the brain, soothing and relaxing you to altogether forget yourself . . .

It's a great way to keep people staying for the 24-hour party.

--

Dustfall

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

Dustfall is the finest luxury hotel in the Protectorate. Situated in the middle of the deepest crater on Delta Pavonis III, it consists of more than one thousand rooms, ranging from huge, water-filled chambers for cetoids to clusters of small, connecting apartments for social avioids and insectoids. Humanoids can enjoy a variety of theme rooms, from the charmingly old-fashioned 23rd century room to state-of-the-art virtual environments, which can be enjoyed from a distance up to one hundred parsecs. The highlight of any visit to Delta Pavonis III, of course, is the slow disintegration of the planet's closest moon, which has reached the Roche limit. (The planet and the moon have many different designations among the multiple species of the Protectorate. For NuAnglic speaking humans, they are generally known as Othello and Desdemona, from an ancient myth.) The constant rain of microscopic particles, falling through Othello's strong magnetic field, produces an extraordinary spectacle, which has been likened to being within a three-dimensional rainbow. Make your reservation now!

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Thursday Rock

 

[J D Foster]

Thursday Rock

The place is death to me. Sure they've cleaned it up nice since the war. No one would think as they came through the high, green, wrought iron gates, that this place was the scene of so much destruction. Nowadays it's a throw back to Earth's ornamental gardens, when the gentry displayed their wealth through neatly clipped hedges and flat lawns. Sure the rock is fenced off and there's a little plague on it, (full of names of my dead friends). It turns my stomach though, to see children running around and playing, no idea that their stepping on souls of ghosts.

See that shrub over there? About four foot away from Thursday Rock? That's where Elyse died. What a soldier, she got that close to the rock, and all by herself too. Then she was tagged right at the last moment... I suppose it was worth it, after all it's our world now. The city that grew up around the park is so big, that it almost engulfs this little scrap of land. They call it a green lung in the centre of town, but the place is death to me.


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The Magonsaete Hills

 

[Glen]

Once "thought to be coterminous with the Diocese of Hereford" this sub-kingdom of Mercia was later understood to be a downstream terminus of one of the Peredorm's quantum pathways. The events in the 9th century are now better understood: the "once and future king" was likely a Peredorm chancer who had taken the pathway either illegally or as the result of a win in a "reality" VR show.

The hills are quaint, beautiful. What more can be said? The prehistoric artwork once scraped from the hill, that used to capture the evening sun and speak of an earlier time, is long since overgrown. The locals no longer care for the heritage of the area, or work to maintain it. The terminus brings its own opportunities despite repeated, failed attempts by UN authorities to close it down.

Peredorm intrusions continue, and the results of their chief game of chance, time-splicing, mean that human history remains suspect. Nothing is as it seems.

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Peredorm Central

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

From the singularity-walled citadel of Peredom Central the lords of chronicity sent forth their decrees. An adjustment in a predynastic Nile delta kingdom here; a subtle change in an AI-inhabited asteroid there. The name of the game was power, and the lords played it well. Now and then an underling was selected for a minor excursion into a parallel past. This kept the lower classes entertained. The secret was still bread and circuses, even if they were algae and timehops now.

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Final's Way

 

[juelz4sure]

There once was a large cavern found deep in the Himalayan mountains called World's End, locals would say that on the eve of creation a small corridor is revealed towards the back of the cavern. Most people of science just regarded it as local legend, but it's was there... Final's Way is what the locals called it, a maze like pathway meant to keep anybody unlucky enough to find it, away from the lost Temple of Angels. Bones were scattered throughout the pathway which may have been why the locals called it that, because for some it was their final resting place but it's hard to say now.

In it's prime the Temple of Angels must have been an architectural masterpiece, but all that was left on that fateful day was a ruin of what it had been. It's massive stone arched roof was falling apart some completely missing, stairs lead to missing levels or unfinished rooms. In the center was a narrow staircase that lead down into the Temples basement, lights shone brightly leading Adam down those stone paved steps. At the bottom was an ancient oak door with a carving of a tree in full bloom.

Adam walked through those doors with a sense of accomplishment, what happened next would have been written down in the history books if there was a need for those anymore but alas. He strolled up to a small podium where a very old book, often called the greatest story ever told. If only he had read it, instead he pushed it to the ground beside the podium and pushed the small button. Statues of angels began singing as an antimatter bomb detonated right below Adams feet, obliterating the entire world...

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Thallium Arc

 

[Twistedlemon]

Wars between forgotten space empires destroyed entire planets in the Coke system. One of the lone survivors in the crevices of the mining territory lies a moon split nearly in half. The place is named after the pagan god Oreo. In the middle of the ruins lies a spot named the Thallium Arc. Burned to a crisp by the phaser rounds that bombarded it eons ago. The lunar rock was crystallized from the extreme heat into the perfect shape of an arc. The rare lunar mineral Thallium can be found if any can avoid the radiated areas scattered on the surface. The alien word Roscomos can be seen at the settlement.


Pokgry's Frozen Gulch

 

[Shyrka]

“Pokgry's Frozen Gulch, huh? Sure I can tell you about that dung hole. It was back in seventy six -- 'course, it was plain ol' Pokgry's Gulch back then -- when what you company folk like to call 'the incident' went an' transpired. Now, old Pokgry was like any other prospector: eager, greedy, an' stupider than a boy in a brothel. Book-learned, I heard, but all them diplomas don' add up to a whole hell a much out here. Wanted to drain the valley and run some seismic scan or some such. Had the 'formers dam up the lower reaches and set to work.”

“Well, the Ch'tolwe they didn't like that one bit. Up they come from the bowels with their mandibles in a twist, all war-hymns and snarlin', yammerin' on in that alien tongue o' theirs. Pokgry's crew, poor saps, didn' know what hit 'em. Them insects done wrecked the dam good an' proper an' all that methane comes on up like a rampaging bullgrinder at a lacewing festival. Flooded the gulch right up to the rim. 'course, down in the crust 'thane might flow like milk from yer mamma's teats, but up on the rim it's colder'n Hades. Froze up good and solid before anyone knew what'd occurred. Plugged the whole damn valley.”

“You go up there, keep a weather eye out. You look hard enough, might just see ol' Pokgry just under the surface, eyes frozen wide, still clutchin' his precious 'Exobiology' books.”

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Withersbrough-on-Sea

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

Among the many attractions of Withersbrough-on-Sea was its noted Palace of Amusement. For tuppence one could enter that glittering castle of glass and wrought iron and spend hours exploring its countless wonders. From simple Punch and Judy shows to full orchestras, from a display of curious objects excavated from the ruins of ancient empires to roundabouts and mirror mazes, it would be a grim person indeed who could not find something to delight and instruct. Of late a rumor has circulated among the chip shops and tea houses that some people have entered the Palace of Amusement and chosen not to leave. Somehow they survive on water from the many artificial waterfalls and on bits of food dropped by careless children. I once thought I saw such a person -- gaunt, ragged, eyes wide with emotions I could not read -- scurry behind a curtain which separated Art Treasures of the Orient from Jack Straw's Comic Acrobatics. I may have been mistaken.

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Temple Ko

 

[Glen]

The silence within Temple Ko is of such depth that no-one can bring themselves to speak. Many have tried, stealing in with bare or stockinged feet, holding their breath.

It is cold, even on hot summer days when crickets, butterflies and wildflowers enjoy the sun of the meadows below, and nesting martins soar around the temple towers.

Black columns, stark against pure white walls, tower high to the dark, shadowed rafters. There is no other ornament or idol, no centre or focus, nor sense of shape or pattern.

Those that enter, whether with mischief or wonder, sadness or joy, all exit changed, their gaze lifted from their boots to the horizon.


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Terminal 125

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

Because Terminal 125 connects the Chimeral Worlds with Galactic Central, you get all kinds in here. Hardwired singularity-worshippers from Bronstein Six; Masculinist separatists from Glacier; modified cetaceans from K'lil'Kli. One thing they all have in common is a need for new faces, some intelligent conversation, good food, and an intoxicant of choice. That's why taverns never go broke on the Line.

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Mountebanks' Alley

 

[Glen]

Mountebanks' Alley? It’s got thirteen bars!

It’s out the back of GC. Quickest from the underpass at the north end of Platform 42. You know! Near the Sliv’itz concession! Anyway, you can swipe out and if you’re back in under the hour they reverse it. Yes! Still!! It’s a transfer!!! You can be sure the empire’ll close that loophole when they find it.

If you do the lot in the hour you can a get a certificate! Yes! But you have to be double quick ‘cos it takes them ages to print them out. It’s so busy. You can imagine.

It’s a cobbled street! Yes, big pebbles! Some of the bars are real old looking. “The Illywhacker”’s the best! They have proper beer! Made with hops and stuff! You’ve never tasted anything like it.

Sorry. Sorry. Just a bit overcome. Everything’s so hard these days ain’t it. Nothing tastes good anymore. Not like this beer.

I just go there. I don’t do the crawl anymore. I wouldn’t recommend it. You should see the sight of them at the end. Off their heads some of them. What with the booze and the phase-shifts to get as much into the hour as they can. Can’t hold it in. Watch your step going back into the station. The floor's treacherous.

The Illywhacker. I keep going. I keep thinking I’ll see her again.

But I never do.

Sorry. Sorry.

Look where we are. This is me. Nice meeting you. Don’t forget. Near the Sliv’itz stand.

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Saraband Dam

 

[Vaz]

'Course I know Saraband Dam, worked it for ten years before the Yang Utuli Corp bought and drained the water to make way for the new hyper rail, why you fellas askin'? Journalists is it?

I never travelled on the hyper though, tell ya the truth not a lot of folks round these parts have. See once they drained the water people got to talkin' about bodies bein found beneath Saraband. Nothin' was ever made official 'course but people say the rails cursed an they trust Yang Utuli about as far as they could throw 'em.

Met a fella who worked for 'em once, came sniffin' around here askin' questions. I dunno, there was somethin' odd about him. 'Specially his eyes. Looked at a man the way wolves look at sheep. An his clothes, all fancy like, black suit, shirt starched whiter then a lambs tail. Come to think of it... He was dressed much like you fella's... Who did you say you worked for again...? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ravenhook

 

[J D Foster]

Ravenhook is a twisted old oak, sitting on top of a dull granite outcrop. Its trunk contorts around like a sour twist, only without the bright colours and the sugar frosting. In the winter time, it looks so fragile, especially the way it leans out so far.

They say the ancients held court here, way back when they first forged our land. The valley forms a natural amphitheatre, and tribes from hundreds of miles around would gather and debate the matters of the day.

Legend has it near the winter solstice, the crescent moon forms a perfect circle with the tree and the outcrop. If you time it right, a doorway to another world is opened, electric blue light, and crackling winds. The price is quite reasonable, any amount of gold, a speck to a goblet, the portal won’t care.

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Leeuwin Barracks

 

[Emori]

There was a silence that surrounded Leeuwin Barracks, a static in the air that was not even punctuated with the sounds of nature. In its prime it had been a central command post, a dominant eye over the transport roads that spooled out from it. Now, in the milky morning light, it was no more than a broad squat building, commanding only the pigeons that roosted in it's eves. The grass around it's tall fences grew with organic abandon, long swaths of prairie grass moved with the wind, rippling waves of muted green and gold.

Tabitha stood at the gates, her shadow cast long and lean down the pockmarked pavement, a dull white sunlight on her back. It had been years since the Barracks had been decommissioned, decades since she had last set foot inside. In her minds eye she could see the long hallways, so many white doors like white teeth on a dull smile of a wall. The smell lingered there, in the thick haze of memory, a sterile blend of pine-sol and bleach, caustic on the tongue. Her skin crawled and she hugged herself, willing the memory away.


Macea Beach

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

Faintly mint-scented waves break on the teal sands of Macea Beach. Because of the ocean's high content of carbon dioxide, it bubbles and hisses as it flows over the pastel shore. Flying mammals, no larger than dragonflies, glide over the beach. They dive to feed on the microscopic crustaceans that are swept in with the tide. Over time, the shells coalesce into the jade-like grains that form the sand. Here, on the single island on this planet of water, many have found a place to meditate.

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Karnstadt