Spanner's World

#amediting Spanner R5: Distractions, Slow Going, and At Last, Clarity

2013-05-10T19:51:00.002-07:00

Things are starting to get clear in Spanner Revision 5. For one thing, Shira finally has her big provocation in 1.1: she sets money on fire, right in front of the camera while predicting the death of not just the American Empire and its Conservative Revolution but capitalism, period. She's wearing nothing but a ripped Doc Savage type shirt in a different color. She just threw her Challenge: prove me wrong, or I'll laugh at your wails when your Empire burns. I facepalmed: how come this never came to me in four entire drafts? Now I finally have an explosive start to the main story equal to the future destruction of Earth in the Intro.

Otherwise, it's been slow going. Mostly, I've written notes, suggestions on how to revise that may or may not become obsolete as I finish chapter after chapter. I'm mostly done with the Peter Ross of SPEC scenes, though that inspired new idea for 1.1 may get me changing the Ross scenes in 5.6, 6.2, 6.6, and 21.6 yet again. I hacked the stylesheet so that I have the High Corporate characters speaking as if they were gods on Olympus, with Chapters 1, 2, 5, and 6 edited accordingly.

And distractions. Not from books, videogames, or TV shows, but entirely new stories. Three short stories plus ideas for one more story and two books. So of course I wrote them down. Here's the opening sentences:

He was about to scream the Shahada and attack when the guitar hit his face with the force of a hundred fists.
These days only headless nude waitresses served the tony restaurants where Chinese Communist Party (Holdings) Limited executives power lunched.
Anastasia Blaise was born with the anonymous beauty of the surgically Resculpted and the aristocratic gift of no conscience.

And one cover idea for one of the novels: instead of the standard "running man" motif found on the covers of way too many standard thrillers, a man flailing in mid-air as he falls to his death off a skyscraper (the setting of the novel's framing scene), with Shira herself apparently mirrored in all the motion-blurred windows.

Meanwhile, for Spanner R5 I'm working the two main villain-related themes more into the story: the death of capitalism (the Corporates) and "pride goeth before a fall" (the revolutionary hubris of both Corporates and Patriots). One more new R5 theme I'm kicking myself for not coming up with during the first four drafts: the class divide between "freemen" and "workers" in which "freedom" is defined in Platonic and therefore aristocratic terms as freedom from work. Right now I'm editing a scene in 1.2 where I plan to introduce the new theme. It continues...

#amediting Spanner R5: The Nonlinear Edit, or Back and Forth and Back and Forth

2013-05-01T18:08:00.000-07:00

During the first week of the final ebook edit for Spanner book 1, I find myself settling into a pattern: going back and forth across the book, following story threads and character arcs, making little tweaks and major transformations here and there.

Remember the eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg over the valley of ashes in The Great Gatsby? I had that image in mind when I decided to put a huge Big Brother-like image of the fat angry face of SPEC chairman Peter Ross over the principals in their office. And I'm putting that image in every single scene set in the principal's office. Likewise, I made major changes to Ross' own early appearances in Chapters 5 and 6: I made his first appearances in effect epiphanies of a god, a Revision 5 theme I'm working on involving all the High Corporates and not just the Beckets, then revised the confrontation in 6.2 so that Shira, Leila, and Jennifer sent him reeling. He ends the scene "shocked at the inscrutable female mind" when his problem is that he, like most High Corporates, can't even conceive of a Populist hero's mentality grounded in reality. His final scene in 21.6 seemed to be perfect in Revision 4, but now I'm going to revise all his Chapter 21 appearances in light of the Chapter 4-5 revisions and add Elle to his 21.6 scene, with her replacement of the injured Karen in that scene (she's in the first confrontation in 6.2) being a major plot point.

Most of the major edits so far have of course been to Chapter 1. As I mentioned last post, I removed Karen and reduced Jim Sparks to a minor villain who gets a lucky break, then replaced them with Elle and a new "shounen hero" character specific to the chapter. I've also been slipping in references to later threads and themes to establish them at the beginning and prepare the readers for the later events. There's still a prop and a character I've neglected in later chapters, the Gospel of the New Genesis (which by Chapter 23 becomes the center of the Dick Becket-Ariel Shield feud) and the seventh Scarab. I could always find somewhere to fit them in.

I also added a new CSS format. Basically it's for lines of dialogue spoken by High Corporate oligarchs on large video screens that reinforces the impression that they are (as their spin implies) living gods. The ones I've applied it to are Steve Jobs (or rather, his ka) in 1.7, Henry Becket in 2.1 (with Rebel Styles' lines getting formatted in another new format), and Peter Ross in 5.6 and 6.1. In 5.4 (IIRC) I've reformatted the stadium announcers' bombastic announcing in the script-type format (based on play scripts adapted to comics, not movie scripts).

In 10.1 I'm changing the identity of the first nameless woman, from the tall brown-haired one to the short slender Asian one, because the latter is Ayla's mother; the reunion is in 13.4 in Revision 4, and I'm moving that to 10.1. I plan to set up her appearance with a few cameo appearances in Chapters 7-9, after Ayla arrives at Shira's apartment. I'll introduce her roommates in minor roles in 10.5-6 (the song war and its aftermath), and after that build up this thread around Leila until she finally goes nameless in 13.2.

Not used from the Revision 3 plan: the love scene on the beach in 14.6. Now I have a study in contrasts and the perfect character for it. I'm looking for a place to put the Shira vs. Charmian tennis match. Not used from the Revision 4 plan: the scene in 23.4 where Radica gets shot down and only Liz can rescue her, and the one planned for 23.6 in which Willa applies violin torture (sound-cannon amplified this time) to the one who deserves it most, her ex-husband the Party Chairman, still in his superhero uniform.

I haven't started this yet, but another plan I have is to relentlessly brand everything to an annoying degree in order to represent the total marketization of society, with Corporatism playing exactly the same role in the American Empire that Islamism does in its symbiotic enemy the Caliphate (which itself is "Jihad vs. McWorld" gone berserk). And I've reverted the name of the giant corporation that own China to Chinese Communist Party (Holdings) Limited.

The muse is happy to get back to work now that I no longer have to work on a schedule. Back and forth is just fine with her. And so the nonlinear edit continues.

#amediting Spanner R5: Aw, To Heck With the Week's Break, I'll Edit Chapter 1

2013-04-28T18:41:00.000-07:00

And so the one week's break I planned to take was broken, and I did not take it, so now I'm editing Spanner Chapter 1 instead. This time I'm taking my time, since I no longer have a regular posting schedule to worry about and the muse threw at me some great ideas I dare not ignore.

First of all, there's Elle, the background character I fell in love with while editing Chapters 22 and 23 for Revision 4. I realized she's a much better fit than Karen for Chapter 1, so now she's replacing Karen altogether. Where Karen's handle in the flashback sequence was "Genki Girl" (which I settled on while in one of my "closet raver" phases when spinning out scenarios for the Project Notebooks between 1998 and 2001), Elle "takes a handle only a Rocker could understand: Whatsername." You probably already know where it comes from, but I'm setting up a running joke. She now has a full name: Eleanor Kayla Shears: Eleanor after her great-grandmother Eleanor (Nelly) Richter (who for some reason never even made it into Book 1), Shears as in Billy (yes, the guy who was Paul when Paul was dead is her great-grandfather, and he appears in Interlude 8).

Second, I changed the character of Jim Sparks the rogue cop to make him a villain in the first two chapters so I could give him a stronger character arc. Among the Team Spanner heroes, I replaced him with a gung-ho anarchist hoverboarder who races under the handle "Blackflag" and dates the precocious Elle. I'll spoil his fate: just as Neal Stephenson killed off the Cyberpunk Hero in the first chapter of The Diamond Age, this guy's the Shounen Hero I kill off at the end of Spanner Chapter 1. Elle will cry for him (in Chapter 2 and later), but Shira will regain sole possession of the protagonist role. Sparks is my Cyberpunk Hero (named after Akira's Kaneda, even), but he never becomes the protagonist and in fact is pretty much a pinball in Shira's game.

Third, I'm finding a whole lot of places to put references to later themes and plot threads that didn't even exist in my mind at the time. For example, Elle's decision to take the handle Whatsername foreshadows the women with no name at all who first appear in Chapter 12 and whom Leila joins in Chapter 13. For that matter, Elle herself may decide to go nameless eventually, but in Book 2. I also found more places to fit mentions of Kira, and so on.

In the "kill your darlings" department, I decided to remove Jennifer's rant about Ayn Rand and serial-killer fandom from the airplane scene. Sure, it sets up her later stint with the Slasher Hunters, but it stands out a bit too much from that scene. Instead, I had Jennifer and Elle react more emotionally when Shira informed them about her battle with Oliver, possessor of the Travelling Shovel of Death from whom she stole Leila's power crystal. I'll fit that now orphaned snippet of dialogue somewhere into Chapter 2, 3, or 4, since it's still important.

I even found both dialogue and narrative passages to condense. I thought I'd gotten them all by the last of who knows how many Chapter 1 edits in February and March of last year, but no. Turns out Chapter 1 wasn't as perfect as I thought. But doesn't it always turn out that way?

And so the final edit begins...

On Spanner Book 1: Thoughts on the Fourth Revision, Plans for the Fifth

2013-04-26T23:00:00.001-07:00

I began the Herculean labor that was the Fourth Revision of Spanner Book 1 back in February 2012, jumping the gun on NaNoEdMo that year. It's now April 2013, almost a full month after this year's EdMo ended, and it still seems hard for me to believe I just finished. It proved to be the toughest part of the job, much more difficult than merely writing it. It got even tougher once I got past Chapter 10, where the third draft ended; in places, the fourth draft became a whole lot different from the second, especially when I got toward the end (which was admittedly quite weak in the second draft).

Well, it's done now, and it's much closer to what I want despite all the crazy new ideas my delirious and overworked muse threw in (pretty girls without names, anyone?). Where previous versions were the equivalent of alpha software, this is the beta. The Fifth Revision will be the equivalent of bugfixes.

Before I finally unleash the ebook edition, there's a few more changes I want to make in one final one-pass edit. First, there's the central love arc, which revolves around Shira and Leila but isn't limited to just them. Still, I need to strengthen it so you can feel the full sublime and destructive force of their love from the moment each first appears separately in Chapter 1 until the final poetic stanza, for it's the story's driving force, the irresistible force flinging itself at the immovable object that is the Conservative Revolution. Second, I'll need to strengthen the forces of resistance: Jennifer (a relatively minor opponent, and only in the relationship line), who tries in vain to keep Shira with her and away from Leila and then throws herself into relationships with two other girls only to return to Shira in the end and make the core couple a threesome; Governor Brinkman, her grandfather and clan patriarch, who insists on marrying her off in order to form a political alliance between clans that eventually fails; Oliver, the one she's being married off to, who finds his "Intended" in the arms of another woman, who proves too dangerous an opponent; and the entire school establishment at Bangor High, to whom their love is as dangerous a political threat as the Student Union.

Beyond the relationship arc, there's the School Arc of Chapters 5-21. In Chapter 4, when the Teachers Guild dissidents and Student Union organizers first meet, I need to set up the two sides of the conflict more strongly. We need to get a sense of the kind of threat Peter T. Ross is even before he first shows up in Chapter 6. I have him described as a hedge fund manager who raises horses for the rich on the side. However, financiers have a heroic and magical aura in this series, one I'm playing up for Ross in particular in Chapter 25 (in Book 2), and they find the source of their heroism in Ayn Rand (though Rand herself would have scorned them as unproductive parasites leeching off actually productive companies, a lower form of business type than even her politically connected but still productive villain Orren Boyle). His appearances in the office behind the principal's at Bangor High in Chapters 6 and 21 are the epiphanies of a god descending to earth. Another major player who needs played up more is Henry Becket, particularly after Chapter 15 when his superhero team take over the Party.

There's a few other characters I want to give a more prominent role. Chief among them is Elle, who didn't fully emerge as a character until Chapter 22, after which I fell in love with her. I realized she makes a better player in Chapter 1's Spanner Incident than Karen does. As for Karen, I need to make her more prominent in the Student Union plot thread so as to justify her near-martyrdom in Chapter 19 and the ensuing Team Challenge in Chapter 20.

There's some other things I need to change. Some of the characters need to talk more British, including the Canadian, Australian, and Irish characters; and the Rockers should use a lot more British street language than they currently do. Some of the narration should be less journalistic and more poetic, or vice versa. There's still a bit of filler. And there's the formatting and stylesheet experiments I "pulled my punches" on in Chapter 23 R4 that I'm going to "supercharge" in R5, in not just Chapter 23 but 15 and 22 as well.

This edit will take nowhere near as long as Revision 4 did. After all, I was still throwing in all kinds of new stuff, up to and including the kitchen sink (or, more perversely, the bathroom one). I'm done with the big edit. The rest is just fixing and fine-tuning. And just like last February, I'm impatient to start.

Spanner Chapter 23: Black Panic in the Suites (Final Revision)

2013-04-26T16:48:00.000-07:00

← Chapter 22

Chaos Angel Spanner — Book 1: Rock City Blues
Chapter 23: Black Panic in the Suites (Final Revision)

Election day, 2014. It was not supposed to happen. The Conservative Revolution was supposed to have liberated America from politics. Governor J. Walter Brinkman, Chairman of the Cascadia Public Management Corporation that owns the government of the state of Cascadia, said so himself.

It’s happening despite his most desperate efforts. Furthermore, what was originally intended to be a high-school anti-bullying rally has exploded into a statewide general strike that threatens to spread throughout the American Empire and beyond.

His solution: destroy Cascadia. Some of the Empire’s strongest supers will do whatever it takes to stop him — especially his granddaughter who erased her name and her lesbian lover Shira Thomas, who came into their powers one month ago and killed King Patriot...

The end begins here.

Table of Contents:

Welcome to My Revolution (October 20, 2011, Final Revision 4/15/13)
Warriors of Rock (October 21, 2011, Final Revision 4/19/13)
The Television Will Be Revolutionized (October 22, 2011, Final Revision 4/21/13)
Burn the Polls, Ye Sons of Freedom (October 23, 2011, Final Revision 4/22/13)
The Fuses Have Been Lit (October 24, 2011, Final Revision 4/23/13)
I Am the Future (October 25, 2011, Final Revision 4/24/13)

Book 2 Previews: (for the ebook edition)

Interlude 14: The Crisis (May 2, 2013)
24.1: School’s Out Forever (The School Invasions Part V) (May 9, 2013)

For the Fourth Revision, I have made massive changes from the Revision 2 version and even the Revision 3 plan. Many scenes have been not only massively revised for the new continuity, but severely condensed. All song lyrics and some entire plot threads have been entirely removed, while new threads have been added, including a massive multi-character super-battle that acts as a direct sequel to Chapter 23. The entire chapter now takes place on a single day: November 4, 2014.

Original R2 section titles: “Settle for Nothing” (23.1), “Spanner Q&A” (23.2), “No Time This Time” (23.3), “Vote Early, Vote Often” (23.4), “The Fuses Have Been Lit” (23.5), and “I Am the Future” (23.6). The Revision 1 version was never completed; there is no Revision 3 version.

As there are no revision notes for previous versions, here’s the Second Revision introduction:

At last! After ten months’ delay, Chapter 23 is finally being posted, and Spanner Book 1 is finished at last! And so we come full circle, with the Conservative Revolution facing its first real Populist threat since it saved the American Empire from democracy. Spanner throws himself into the works and even holds a press conference, while the Wrecking Krewe and the rest of Team Spanner pit their souped-up boom trucks to cancel out the Fearsome Foursome’s helicopter-mounted giant sound cannons as the crowds battling the authorities below attempt to turn Brinkman’s sham plebiscite into a real election. And of course the Man declares war against the People and tries to force them back into slavery. For the threat of equality promises the end of sovereign freedom, the divine right of oligarchs. And when the victims withdraw their sanction, the predators perish...

The balance of power in Cascadia is shifting. Nothing will be the same after this. As for Byron Scofield, fanatical Prophet of the Church of America: he has decided that the time for tolerance has ended, and the time for war is now...

And so the stage is set for Book 2, Rage of the Prophets [final title: Love Terrorists], which contains some of my strangest and most interesting plots and characters (particularly villains). Book 1 was just the intro. Now it’s time for the Author to bring his A game. Now we get serious.

to be continued...

Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

Spanner 23.6: I Am the Future

2013-04-25T17:00:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 23: Black Panic in the Suites
Part 6: I Am the Future (Final Revision)

Nameless Reporter: Almost all the votes have been phoned, texted, emailed, and web-polled in, and now it’s official: 28% in favor of CPMC, 82% voting no-confidence. Better yet, CPMC stock’s falling through the floor!
Brinkman: There was no vote! It never happened! There’s only one vote in this state, and it’s mine! I’m the chairman, CEO, and sole owner of this corporation, and... and...
Hope Reston: I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the sacrifices you've made, giving up careers and families and sometimes even your lives, to take back our rights and freedom. All credit belongs to you alone. Democracy is our freedom. Democracy is our strength. Long live the people of Cascadia! As long as all of us work together to fight for our freedom and help those who are most in need, the System cannot prevail.
Spanner: Do you see the cracks in the castle walls, in the foundation? Corporatism built the citadel of American Empire out of bigotry, power lust, greed, and corruption, on a foundation made from the pure quicksand of evasion and lies. But never let yourselves get complacent. Give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile. They have already begun rebuilding. Not only is the fight not over, it’s hardly even begun.
debBot: Look at all those state flags down there, daveBot! Where’s the American flags? Do they have it in for America?

downtown bremerton. Sitting with her family in her wheelchair at a table at the edge of Harborside Plaza overlooking the boardwalk, Karen is shocked to find herself hailed as a hometown hero. Saffron pulls her younger sister to her feet and holds her tight, screaming and sobbing in joy; brothers Shin and Sage make it a dancing group hug. Back in her wheelchair, a stunned Polly puts her arms around her. “I had no idea it would get this big...”

Karen kisses her cheek. “I knew all along.”

“What—”

“We have a lot of enemies, and a lot of friends. I almost gave up, but Shira said, let’s bet on the people.”

“Sounds like her!” Mimi, Trishie, and Ruthie join them, and the four girls group-hug their bravest friend.

Six dreamers in a psychedelic borderworld more vivid than normal dreamspace find themselves surrounded by enraged spirits taller than the sky. Jennifer says, “These are the Egos of the Party leadership.”

“We’re gods too,” says the girl with the violet eyes. “They cannot hurt us here.”

“If they try,” says Shira, “they’ll only hurt themselves.”

Kira directs them toward the portal out. “We can’t stay here. People need us.” They redirect their flight toward the portal and through it back into the real world.

westlake plaza. Ariel, Taylor, and Melody carefully carry down six exhausted young women on their Repulse fields, naked and sweat-drenched and caught on the border between waking and dreams, into a main city square packed with dancing cheering strikers celebrating their unexpected victory over CPMC. Melody directs the others toward their friends from Bangor High: Student Union leaders Colette, Kio, Courtney, Lorelei, Lorine, and Doug; teachers Sylvia Plame, Yasmin Khoury, Eugene Fletcher, and Ada Paulette; and librarians Sally Hatfield, Kitty Carlisle, and Chrissy Jordan. They scream and sigh, relieved their friends didn’t die in the battle against the superheroes above; they welcome them with arms raised high to receive them. Even before she reaches the ground, even in her half-conscious delirium, Jennifer thinks aloud: “I need to invent some way to beat those guys together... wait, I can’t just do it myself, we need to open-source it so everybody can put their minds to it... yeah, just like science...”

But then the cheering and dancing stop. Everyone looks up and falls silent. Hovering above them, battle-ravaged cape fluttering in the wind, is the Scarab, looking down upon his enemy the people with a terrifying murderous stare that eventually settles on Shira. He tells her telepathically, I hope you’re pleased with yourself, angel of chaos.

I’m not the kind of Player in it for personal glory, god man. You can’t win, but we can still lose.

I told your sister you can only win against them, but she would not listen to me either. Their time is past. They have no future. Neither do you if you choose to go down with them.

Why do you keep prematurely proclaiming victory? Is that an Ego thing? She gives him a beautiful smile. He does not answer.

Ariel, smiling sweetly, seemingly no worse for wear, clutching the briefcase containing the Gospel of the New Genesis, rises up to meet the battle-weary World Patriarch. She tells him, No, you can’t have it, and I won’t leave until you do. The two powerful enemies stare each other down for an endless uncomfortable moment.

He does not respond even telepathically. Reluctantly he flies away to rejoin his Liberator comrades heading across the mountains. Satisfied that he will not return, Ariel lets the people celebrate their victory while they still can and flies off into the west.

Nameless Reporter: CPMC stock has collapsed! The New York Stock Exchange has just announced its intention to delist it along with COPCO...
Brinkman: (trembling, growling) You fucking parasites, we’ll take back our rightful wealth and dominion God promised to us and you stole from us. We shall not forgive.

cpmc headquarters. The boardroom doors open. He is there in his dress blues, tall handsome and intimidating: Commander Will Becket. The beautiful companion sporting long curly brown hair and an elegant sky-blue coatdress is his wife and conscience, Dr. Trista McLendon. Brinkman gasps, “Will! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Shutting down your company,” he calmly replies. “Clearly it’s failed.”

The Investors stand up, stare sadly at Brinkman, and turn to leave for their helicopters. “Wait a minute! What are you guys doing?”

The assembled High Corporates stare him down without blinking. Mr. Bhawal says, “We put our trust in you, Mr. Brinkman.” Mr. Xi says, “We trusted you to suppress the rabble so as to create a stable market for high-end investment, Mr. Brinkman.” Mr. Antonov says, “However, Mr. Brinkman, instead of disowning a certain rebellious teenager, you created another Spanner Incident.” Mr. Galvez says, “Now you, Mr. Brinkman, have proved you cannot keep the rabble sufficiently in line to keep your property stable.” Mr. Zhi says, “We cannot hedge against instability when you cannot prevent instability on your own property, Mr. Brinkman.” Mr. Seon says, “We are confident Mr. Bloomberg has reversed Mr. Trump’s failure, whereas you have not, Mr. Brinkman.” Mr. Vronsky says, “Goodbye, Mr. Brinkman.” And the High Corporates who once kept CPMC stock high leave; on their way to their helicopters, they call their brokers to short-sell.

Martin Becket glares at his cousin. “Walter, you damned fool. You should have disowned the emo little whore and let her ditch her name. Now look what you’ve done. Enjoy being eaten alive... Wally.” On his way out, he takes a moment to glare at Will, who stares back calmly.

Will and Trista enter at last. Brinkman looks at Trista and says to Will, “You lucky piece of shit.”
Will’s ice-blue eyes twinkle. “The word is...” He leans into his cousin and smiles. “...deserving.”

On the monitor behind them, the news channels breathlessly report the collapse of Cascadian real estate prices.

shira’s apartment. They find themselves assaulted by overjoyed hackers at the door. Their favorite Pizza Mafia pizzas await them on the coffee table behind. After pizza, cola, and cake, they take turns in the shower. They’re in no condition to talk after their first real superpower battle, so they call it a night and cuddle together: Shira, Kira, Jennifer, Elle, and the girl with the violet eyes in Shira’s bed; Charlie, Desiree, and their two daughters in the guest room.

“Leave ’em alone for now,” says Hope. “They need the rest. Right now, let’s get ourselves ready for round two.”

fallout
actions have consequences:

yet another heavily hedged and leveraged Owner bank snatches CPMC out of the greedy clutches of Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited and announces plans to resurrect them through the usual austerity nostrums using the same CEO
COPCO fires “One-Eye Jack” Becket as Seattle section chief and replaces him with not the compromised genius detective Locke Holmes (no administrator) but the overzealous South African, Michael Corson
Admiral Reynard S. Currie, not impressed, announces his intention to use the United States Police Force, Bringing Home The War On Terror™, to restore the Revolutionary hierarchy to power
the brought-back Lady Penner who lost a life over an iPod is released from Naval Hospital Bremerton only to find to her horror that not only is there no more Student Council but no Bangor High either
Oliver Thorwald leaves the resurrection facility alarmed to find his chosen princess Christian Becket Fleer, pop-idol hitwoman Bunny Strakeljahn, and pet mad scientist Mina Tatsumi engaging in pitched battle royal over who possesses him
Raylene Forster and Saxon Mobley wake up in new bodies of their own in Holy City, surrounded by their Liberator comrades in High Corporate dress
Dr. Jenna Hunter dissolves the Teachers Guild’s Seattle Local and declares her intention to reorganize the bankrupt SPEC around a series of commercially oriented “Cool Schools”
Nolan Robson flees Cascadia for Arizona in the Kingdom of Texas as soon as he takes a new body (cursing Falconer even as he emerges) in order to take an executive position in the Prison-Industrial Complex
Hope Maureen Reston finds herself named interim governor and will be greeted by a sea of green-white-and-blue state flags as soon as she moves to the governor’s mansion to carry out her plan to reorganize the government around the Worker Guilds’ successful rank-and-file strategy
Byron Scofield shoots Luke Everson between the eyes in the door of the Shepherd-Mayor’s Enumclaw mansion

and in a bankruptcy sale the Wilder Foundation acquires a Capitol Hill loft building at shockingly low cost and a bright-eyed reporter with no name takes a brightly sunlit loft which she prepares for the arrival of her new companions:

a nameless teenage nude model with violet eyes and silky black hair now shoulder-length and the one with the highest-level superpowers;
a fallen princess new to this freedom thing who exercises her family right to erase her family names and becomes comfortable wearing only a tiara;
an eight-year-old girl so precocious she already erased her name (given by a gangster), child lover by force of will;
her sweet cousin, the precocious twelve-year-old redheaded beauty;
long-lost twin sister Kira Amanda Thomas;
the shared love of their life, Shira Miranda Thomas, Governor Reston’s point woman and youngest daughter
and her adoring K-9, Catalina

plus the five-year-old girl who came with the loft, name of Flower, the daughter of a Corporate couple who used to have some difficult-to-pronounce Eastern European surname the Conservative Revolution changed to Omni-Consumer, not that she is old enough to recognize; and four cats relieved to be fed after a month of neglect by disdainful Corporate neighbours. Though Flower likes that her beautiful new adult friend likes to go naked in the house, she is shocked to find out she doesn’t have a name at all; the bright-eyed girl happily takes the opportunity to begin Flower’s education in the way of the anonymous beauties. Jennifer’s new lab waits for her to set it up to her liking. The building’s remaining Corporates either leave in a huff or get evicted. Hotel Bremelo waits for its Team to move in, inside the wounded heart of the city from which they draw their strength.

And the heart of the city continues to beat. And its urban intelligence, the one known as Em, smiles upon the city and the people who are its life.

technosphere. They are the only ones present, standing on the checkerboard floor in a dark and empty virtual arena, superhero and nudefighter facing each other in superpowered Mexican standoff, mighty arms folded on his mighty chest, gloved hands planted on the smooth curve of her hips, war in his masked eyes, mischief on her unpainted lips. “You’ll never get away with such villainy, angel of chaos,“ the superhero proclaims, cape fluttering like a flag in the silent virtual wind. ”I, the American Crusader, shall make justice prevail.”

“Yet your superhero name is the ancient byword for villainy,” Aya Shibata replies. “The Proletarian called you the villain all the while you were killing him. Why do you keep fighting for his ideal?”

“The world needs a hero. I am the only one standing between the world and those who would destroy it.”

“You are the way, the truth, and the life? You are the dead hand of the past burying the world alive. I am the future.”

“You cannot win, Spanner.”

“You have already lost, hero. Checkmate.” And with a wink and a flash of light, Shira Thomas is gone, leaving Henry Becket alone in an empty world.

The vision begins in chaos: a burning city, large crowds battling Imperial forces, flying drones committing mass murder, the screams of the Chosen — but the longer it runs, the clearer it gets, and all the combined visions focus increasingly on one man: from the moment he seized power after the death of his father, Henry Becket fails to save an empire that was dying long before he became its superheroic savior, and he collapses into madness, and into silence — and the darkness he dedicated his life to banishing forever, draws itself around him like a blanket of blackest night and consumes him.

And then the darkness dissipates, and the sun reappears — but the world has browned out, and only one forested oasis is left...

Braving the flickering shadows of her own darkness that bear away her name into oblivion, the girl with the violet eyes stands in the center of a grove of ancient cherry trees in full bloom, beautiful pale body bare, strong wind caught in her long black hair, shining sun caressing her with its warmth. The girl with cinnamon skin (which twin? both combined) flies down to her from the blue sky above, beautiful and nude, a demon descending on long bat wings matching her wild red hair. She lands before her and gives the command: “Suicide angel, stretch out your wings.” Slowly, sensuously, the black-haired girl stretches out her beautiful black angel wings. The wind caresses the soft feathers.

They pull each other into a lover’s embrace. They share a long, sensuous, increasingly violent kiss. Then they turn their faces to look into you, subtle smile on their faces, a twinkle in their eyes, speaking without need for words: if you do not understand, you have already lost.

They turn around and leave the ground, into the blue sky above; hearts entwined and powers combined, ready for one final job. Together they fly, willing to die, angel and devil in love; together they fly, into the sky, to heaven, where they will slay God.

end series one.

to be continued...

Back to Chapter 23 index...
Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

[Revision 4 Final, 4/20/13: R2 scenes heavily edited to fit Final Revision continuity; some scenes condensed, others expanded. New scenes added to complete some plot threads and continue others into Book 2. Revision 4.0.1: corrected one character error.]

Spanner 23.5: The Fuses Have Been Lit

2013-04-24T17:46:00.001-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 23: Black Panic in the Suites
Part 5: The Fuses Have Been Lit (Final Revision)

The voice of the Chairman comes down from heaven, amplified by multiple military-industrial satellites. His feral growl reveals him to be closer to full werewolf transformation than he has ever allowed himself to be in front of a public his now intends to destroy.

Brinkman: Traitorous Commonist rabble of Cascadia! You have murdered your King instead of obeying him, and you have chosen to betray us in league with the Antichrist instead of fighting against his evil under our command! We fought our Revolution to save America’s sacred Manhood from you! Surrender unconditionally and prepare for punishment and penitence, or we will sentence you to eternal torment! You have five minutes!

They stand together on the streets of the cities and towns below, arms linked together in solidarity, forced by the immortals who control the instrument of heavenly wrath to face their mortality and acknowledge their common humanity: Christians, Muslims, Jews, Pagans, Buddhists, unbelievers alike; student and worker, white and black, young and old, American and non-American, insufficiently rich to desperately poor, common mortals faced with sudden death and the realization that they are the enemy the Revolution means to destroy, they are the true target of World War IV. They thought they could force the Owners to give them an actual education or decent pay and working conditions; all they did was enrage a race of paranoid and implacable gods into genocide. For the first time since the death of socialism at the hands of Stalin, it dawns on a critical mass of unspecial ordinary people that the American Dream was always a lie, that to the small élite of Real Americans they have always been the Sons of Satan, and this is only the beginning of the rain of drones the Americans will be raining upon them from one end of the Empire to the other.

The Party wants them to surrender and submit. They choose to join together peacefully. Together, some without consciously realizing it, they reject the authority of the all-powerful Conservative Revolutionary Party and all that it stands for.

Yet the Revolutionaries comprehend nothing. They perceive only the Threat From Below that threatens to destroy their carefully planned utopia. They think only of the profit rate falling ever faster toward zero, the System of Free Enterprise speeding toward the singularity. They feel the American Exceptionalism embodied in their Party slipping away. But Brinkman has taken their vengeance out of their hands. They slip to their knees and chant prayers to Jesus America, to Echelon and NORAD, and to the Great White Father who leads their Party. From the sky above Seattle, the Liberators look down appalled.

A million cameras continue to shoot video. Not wanting the professional hacks of the MSM to interpret their own experience for them, they narrate it as if they can pour out their hearts and souls onto the Darknet in the last five minutes of their lives. If they pray to a supernatural power, they pray to a Supreme Being beyond the comprehension of even the Nine-Principled God and his son Jesus America.

But Admiral Currie is not fazed. Enthusiastic as ever, he declares, “We’ve got it in the bag! The Revolution is saved!”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Brinkman grumbles. “I’ve got two daughters in the right position to ruin everything.”

He pats Brinkman’s back. “Nobody can stand up to Nuclear Power, comrade! Once our heavenly sword of justice cuts through your treasonous spawn like butter, we’ll crowd the sky with ’em and end the Communist threat for certain! Just have faith.”

Flying above the Seattle skyscrapers, Shira and Kira spin a double reality distortion field around themselves, their sisters, and their lovers, not so much as to hide them as to distort the images Echelon’s spysats are sending to the NORAD killsat’s aiming system. Jennifer asks, Do you really think we’ve got the power to pull this off?

The girl with the violet eyes flies into Shira’s arms. Shira replies, We killed King Patriot, didn’t we? Kira embraces Jennifer from behind, caresses her breasts, nibbles her ear; with so little time remaining, the three couples begin making furious love in mid-air. Down below, the Rockers aim their sound cannons at the mass distortion in the sky.

The Party censors allow the Great Firewall to keep the MSM channels blue. They don’t want any information to leak through.

The women in the sky above Seattle fight into ever more intense ecstasies. The twins’ reality distortion field externalizes their inner states.
Currie looks into his scope and fine-tunes his aim with a joystick. He transmutes his consciousness into the killsat. The Board and the Investors silently look on.
From below, the crowds in the streets of Metropolitan Seattle watch with their eyes and cameras. They’re done praying; they hold their collective breath.
From above, Echelon points its spysat eyes at the cloud of distortion obscuring the center of Seattle and tells Currie where to aim.
Between, two reality distortion fields combine with three Repulse fields operating at highest power into a cloud of pure chaos which a Patternist’s mind distorts in eleven dimensions. Eyes in Seattle, in Salem, in heaven watch in shock. The Rockers begin to play their symphony of destruction.
The voice of Jesus America booms deafeningly from the sky:

I
AM
GOD

Ariel and Taylor combine their Repulse fields to keep out the Liberators as three sets of two bodies fuse their consciousness into single beings held together by superpower and absolute ecstasy. On the streets, in the CPMC boardroom, in newsrooms everywhere, people go woozy and faint at the alien barrier between the city and the weapon that would destroy it. An enraged Nightwolf tries to murder his granddaughters; they gleefully throw him into the cloud of chaos. Drusilla blasts them with massive lightning bolts; Ariel Repulses it into the entire superteam. Nightwolf emerges screaming; Taylor railguns him at the Crusader, who knocks him hurtling into Lake Washington. Johnny Rebel whips out four cyborg Vulcan cannons and fires into the cloud, only to get sucked into it; his body disintegrates, and his mind with it — with a shock the Liberators realize that one of them is dead and they are now eight.

Currie continues to adjust his aim. “Come on, baby,” he tells the killsat’s aiming system like a lover, “you can do it.” His eye starts to twitch.

The twins collapse themselves and their lovers into one charged superconsciousness and draw their sisters into the ecstasy-powered fusion that draws in the collective hope of the people down in the city while thirty blasts of concentrated Rock ’N’ Roll combine to transmute pure love and reality distortion into sound that echoes statewide and across the mountains into Standard Oil-owned Okanagan. Shattered fragments of what was once Johnny Rebel, the Great American Hero, fly out of the cloud like shrapnel at the survivng Liberators. Drusilla tries to destroy the cloud, and with it her own daughters and stepdaughters, with the most powerful Repulse field she has ever unleashed, only for it to collide with two from Ariel and Taylor that annihilate it with a deafening shockwave. Below, many of the strikers panic and head back to shelter.

Brinkman yells in Currie’s ear, “Admiral, what the hell is taking you so long?”

Currie grins. “Patience, comrade. I told you to have faith.”

Henry, Richard, and Tom Becket wave back the other Liberators so they can combine their Destruct fields into a giant fireball they hope will eliminate the barrier protecting Seattle. They chant with a single voice in ancient Coptic from the Gospel of the New Genesis. Ariel and Taylor slip into the heart of the chaos. A triangle of power burns between the Becket brothers — their forms distort into rail-thin figures of light and then burning auras of blinding light — together they unleash a single coordinated Destruct field into the cloud of reality distortion—

the cloud glows and spins — it spits out a vortex of fire that blasts the Liberators and send them flying to the edges of the city; Liberty Belle slams into a mountain, and now they are seven. The Crusader lets out a wail of pain at her loss, then directs his most powerful Destruct field directly at the heart of the cloud hoping to murder the twins, only for it to dissipate in their hypercharged aura.

Mr. Seon asks, “When do you intend to fire, Admiral?”

Currie replies, “When our Party leaders get out of my way. We can’t afford to lose any more heroes.”

The Shape railguns the Streak at where he thinks Shira could be; the cloud flings him back out, but Drusilla catches him in her Repulse field and curves him back in; this time centrifugal force shoots him out, right into the Shape, and they spin out into Puget Sound.

The remaining five Liberators, the four Becket siblings and brother-in-law John Brinkman, fly away from the vortex to a safe distance.

Ariel and Taylor pop out below and take their positions between the cloud and the ground. The KCUF crew switch the sound cannons to maximum power; supercharged with adrenaline, the Rockers play like they’ve never played before. Civilians on the ground look up in fascinated terror.

Currie spits out his cigar and grins triumphantly. “Now!” He pulls the trigger.

his signal travels at the speed of light
sound and ecstasy transmute into power
SOL-9000 explodes its nuclear fuel
a burst of light emerges from the cloud
six spysats go blind and start to fall
Currie holds his eye and screams
the particle blast bullseyes the cloud
the counterblast turns from light to sound
SOL loses its wings
six falling stars light their path to earth

and Currie falls to the ground twitching in an epileptic seizure. The silent Investors watch Brinkman’s emergency plan fall apart along with the seven satellites on the CPMC boardroom monitor. Brinkman whimpers like a wounded fighting dog. Luke Everson and Locke Holmes faint dead away.

The reality distortion barrier slowly weakens. The alien spacescape loses dimension. The power system at the cloud’s core buds apart into three and then into six. The Rockers stop playing; the strange unearthly music goes softer until it dissipates into wind. The Liberators hover at the edge of the chaos, sensing a perfect moment to strike but too transfixed with horror to risk another deadly battle with the two Repulsors still warily guarding the vulnerable newtypes within. Six consciounesses reconstitute out of the energy field and congeal into individuality; consciousness returns, and then reason, and finally their sense of their own physical presence as wet hot trembling bodies carried by the wind. They let themselves fall into exhausted unconsciousness; Ariel and Taylor catch them in their fields, enfold them in an invisibility shield, and whisk them away.

And they are gone. The reality barrier has vanished. And all is silence.

Brinkman: (frantically waving The Black Book of Communism) You monsters! You think you just beat me! You think you’re gonna rob the deserving for your bloodthirsty Communist welfare schemes! You think you just voted yourselves into freedom you never deserved! Well, think again, parasites. You’ve got another thing coming. By the Flag of God and the Nation for which it stands, I swear!
Angela Coyne: (waving a sheaf of legal papers) Attention, board members, executives, and shareholders of the Cascadia Public Management Corporation. On behalf of the Wilder Institute, I have just filed a class-action lawsuit against CPMC on behalf of hundreds of thousands of its victims. CPMC has been engaged in massive fraud since it was established. Its existence depends entirely on fraud, robbery, insider trading, and other crimes, up to and including murder. CPMC executives have been caught subsidizing, and taking money from, known criminal organizations. Here is proof:

She broadcasts a series of surveillance and phonecam videos of CPMC executives and investors, including Brinkman himself, accepting bribes from Chinese industrial spies and Syndicate leaders — dozens of them, back to back, looped.

Agent 2468: (in total panic) Governor! Chief! We’ve been infected by a virus! We’re losing—

The CPMC board watch in cold horror as the distress call from COPCO Seattle breaks up into total noise, out of which the low-resolution face of Spanner emerges. He chants “blah blah blah blah” without a break — the angel of chaos takes over all the monitors, hijacks all the computers in the building, transforms the entire statewide CPMC system into himself. Outside, his entire botnet of roboagents chants “blah blah blah blah” with a single voice. The firewall protecting the COPCO android guards from the compromised COPCO Seattle system falls, and they join their voices in his chant. From them Spanner launches himself into the COPCO corporate system to assimilate it and follow its connections directly into NORAD and Echelon.

“Lord have mercy on us,” says Jack Becket in despair, “the motherfucker’s turning the entire system into a Spannerbot...”

Brinkman glares at Currie. “Are you still positive, Admiral?” For the first time, Currie’s heart sinks and his cheery smile disappears.

Nameless Reporter: The Conventional Wisdom thought it was impossible, but now it’s actually begun: CPMC’s stock price has started to collapse!

Into the streets the triumphant strikers flood, out of buildings half destroyed by their own military-industrial defenders, past the debris of fallen drones and Mech Knights, past the Spanner-infected copbots tearing off their own heads, to take advantage of what may be their final opportunity to seize their freedom from the implacable gods of the Revolution. To their shock they find themselves the sole remaining power controlling the cities and towns of Cascadia. Excited by the shocking victory in Cascadia, people return to the streets in the oppressed cities of the Homeland and throughout the Empire, even clashing with authorities terrified into irrational rage in the Caliphate and the corporate properties of Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited.

It starts as part of a delirious victory dance among small groups of anarchists and culture jammers scattered among the strikers, spontaneously in nearly every city, chanted in every language the strikers speak. It spreads throughout the striking crowds, a chant of triumph in Cascadia, a slogan of defiance elsewhere, spread from person to person and city to city; from out of their collective defiance, like a middle-finger salute thrust into the face of CPMC, the masses unleash their war cry: “The people united will never be defeated!”

Still flying above Seattle, the Liberators assemble at the point of Brinkman’s defeat and trade mighty fists and superpower blasts over whether to destroy Cascadia for its people’s disobedience. Caught in the middle is their leader: Dr. Prince Charles Henry Becket of Dictel, Incorporated, Secretary General of the Conservative Revolutionary Party and the American Crusader third of his lineage; hovering untouched amidst the strife of America’s superpowered leaders, he struggles to make his choice: accept the Challenge the Populists are throwing him, or destroy them and start history anew? He hovers unmoving, paralyzed by the burden of choice.

on to the next... →

Back to Chapter 23 index...
Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

[Revision 4 Final, 4/19/13: Mostly new material. All scenes remaining from R2 have been condensed and rewritten to fit Final Revision continuity. All song lyrics and the entire “body-painted dancers” thread have been removed.]

Introduction to a Dead Blog, or The Only Post on SpannerVision

2013-04-23T18:05:00.002-07:00

Now that Twitter's shutting down Posterous, I'll never be able to post a second entry to the "SpannerVision" blog I had there, which I neglected because I was too busy actually writing and editing Spanner to draw anything. SpannerVision was to be my series-related image blog. It was the companion blog to my alternate main blog, where I put some of the entries linked on the Inside Spanner page. All those, and maybe some more, will be reposted here once I'm done posting Spanner Book 1.

Oh well, maybe I'll have to get that Tumblr account after all...

Introducing SpannerVision

(originally posted on June 21, 2011)

Welcome to my new blog where I'll be posting images (and eventually music and video) for my (currently a) webnovel Chaos Angel Spanner and its universe. I'll be posting character designs and other Spanner-related graphics here. Some of the images will be not safe for, well, Facebook, where all my relatives are...

At least this gives me an excuse to start drawing stuff for the manga idea I turned into a webnovel...

Spanner R4 Update: More #amediting Needed on 23.5

2013-04-23T16:26:00.001-07:00

Turns out Spanner 23.5 is the most incomplete section of Chapter 23, with the least number of Revision 2 or previous-chapter scenes that merely need editing. 23.6 is the most complete (or was when I started editing Chapter 23), so it's going to post the day after 23.5 regardless.

What's stymieing me this time? (Darling muse, I love you to pieces, but you don't get to take a break until the chapter's over.) By plan, this is the most abstract section in all of Book 1. I'm not so much editing it or even writing it from scratch; rather, I'm constructing it, and construction takes time.

Probably the first thing I'm going to do with the Revision 5 one-pass edit is rework the formatting of Echelon's lines. I kludged the CSS so I could get 23.2-4 posted quickly. 23.5 involves a lot of CSS hacking.

I'm working on 23.5 now, and I hope to get it posted tomorrow. If not, I'll let you know. But I'm finishing Chapter 23 and Book 1 no matter what. 23.5 will post.

Spanner 23.4: Burn the Polls, Ye Sons of Freedom

2013-04-22T17:00:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 23: Black Panic in the Suites
Part 4: Burn the Polls, Ye Sons of Freedom (Final Revision)

Brinkman: To our rebellious subjects: There is no election. You are not the government. The government is CPMC. The government is me! I alone am the Law! My word is the word of God! Obedience alone is of God. All rebellion is inspired by Satan. You will cease your Devil-inspired rebellion against God, or we shall be forced to destroy you all, to the man, root and branch.

Suddenly a piratecast interrupts the official announcement: an eight-bit representation of the head of the Statue of Liberty replaces the blue screen, opening and closing her mouth in clockwork fashion; descending red, white, and blue gradients replace Spanner’s rainbow background, speaking in a cheery female computer voice.

Lady Liberty: Good morning, America! I’m Lady Liberty, and I’m here to remind y’all that if you don’t vote, you can’t be free.

The computer image of Lady Liberty is replaced by a series of portraits of great American founders and leaders, mouths animated ventriloquist-dummy style.

Thomas Jefferson: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. —That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, —That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government...
Thomas Paine: These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph.
Abraham Lincoln: Any people anywhere, being inclined and having the power, have the right to rise up, and shake off the existing government, and form a new one that suits them better. This is a most valuable — a most sacred right — a right, which we hope and believe, is to liberate the world.
Lady Liberty: So y’all better cast your votes and make ’em count! Let’s show ’em People Power! Let’s show ’em that America is We the People! Get off your duffs and make your votes count!

Litton and the MSM corporate techs finally interrupt the real piratecast, but not before the damage has already been done. Governor Brinkman returns to the screen, angrier than ever, looking less human by the second, venting his sovereign wrath in an escalating rage that distorts his face. (Sparks: “He’s starting to look less human.” Shira: “Good. Then people will see what their owners really are.”)

Brinkman: Y’all are traitors! Goddamn liberal commonist Muslim faggot nigger-lovers! I’ll kill you all! I’ll eat y’all alive! I’ve got nukes and y’all don’t! I’ll rip your—

Brinkman’s face is replaced with a comic book image of the Wolf Man and the sound of a howling movie werewolf.

Lady Liberty: Not so fast, Fido!

The eight-bit image of Spanner appears. This time the famous graffiti tag of badge-shield, crossed wrenches, and Old English “S” is superimposed on his faceplate.

Spanner: People of Cascadia: You are being faced with a choice. The Synarchy are throwing you a Challenge they think you can’t possibly win. Accept it and throw it in their faces. Is America truly the land of freedom and democracy, or a caliphate of corporations subjugating humanity to the cult of Mammon? The choice is yours alone. This is Tournament, and you are the fighters under Challenge. Go forth and win.

Brinkman attempts to retake the airwaves as soon as the piratecast ends, but his cousin Martin Becket shoves him aside.

Martin Becket: The masked terrorist wants you to forget the evil in the heart of man. Democracy is not only impossible, it leads only to anarchy and chaos. America was founded to prevent democracy, by reserving power for an enlightened oligarchy. We have restored the proper order of things. The men whose virtue God has blessed with infinite wealth support our company’s virtue.
Nameless Reporter: (looks at her phone, then at you) Major investors are showing their confidence in CPMC by driving its stock price to four times its previous high!
Martin Becket: The Revolution does not need approval from the profane. God himself has already cast the only vote that counts.
Nameless Reporter: (points at you) Remember, people, (raises her thumb) a vote for CPMC is (turns her thumb down) a vote against you.
Brinkman: The bitch is full of shit!
Martin Becket: No, she’s right. A vote against us is a vote against America. God doesn’t like that. (glares at you) Obey God!

As the smoke and debris from destroyed battle copters dissipates, the strikers make another attempt to take the streets, only to be foiled by smoke and noise bombs thrown by young black-masked vigilantes, mostly male and driven by testosterone. One of them, presumably a leader, uses his phone as a microphone to speak through a hijacked city PA system:

Anarcho-terrorist: You pacifist wimps! You think you can destroy the System by marching? You’ve already committed mass suicide! You already surrendered to the Enemy! The only way to freedom is through blood, fire, and revolutionary violence! Burn the polls, ye sons of freedom!

Jennifer leaps up and punches him out; the strikers cheer. She steals his phone.

Jennifer: Fine act of government those hotheads just pulled. Didn’t we just have your kind of revolution? They’re not anarchists at all!
Listen, people: terrorism is government! The Man’s bullying you to prevent mass self-determination. What is anarchy? No leaders! Democracy without leaders. These terrorists only wanna replace those other terrorists. Don’t follow! Vote against CPMC, and these clowns too. Back to the strike!

A previously recorded message gets interrupted.

Drusilla: Blessed people of America, the spiritual truth of Our Nation is under threat from the schemes of the unenlightened and unblessed. We must restore the Hierarchy to its natural order, or—
Ric Thomas: (raises cherry-red Gibson Flying V) RAAAAAWWWWWK!

Ariel Repulses a Patriot Metal copter at the Crusader rotor first; he destroys it with a single mighty punch. They look in the sky: one left. Ric audiomessages Shira, We got this one, cub. She waves off the others; the flying supers turn their attention to the heroes.

Crowds of strikers scramble back to shelter as Tom E. Breydon unleashes a deadly blast of Patriot Metal that shatters windows, destroys cars and trash bins, and wrecks the inside of buildings. Ten Rockers aim their sound blasters at his copter to play the most blistering solos of their careers. Ten waves of weaponized Rock ’N’ Roll crack the metal, torture the men on board, split the rotors into flying blades of death, and finally blow up the copter with a deafening boom. The Patriot Metal Superstar wakes up in his new clone body next to a laughing Oliver Thorwald, a sneering Bunny Strakeljahn, and a yee-hawing Redd Banditt who has to be restrained from backslapping.

Ric: (pumps fist) Death by guitar warriorrrrrr!
Spanner and the Monkeywrench: You are dead, dead, dead...
Nameless Reporter: The first voting results are in! So far, the citizen vote’s overwhelmingly against CPMC. Can it overcome the oceans of outside Investor cash? Yes we can!
Spanner: Government of the Party, by the Party, and for the Party... died in 1989.

Mr. Zhi says, “You cannot allow them to win, Mr. Brinkman.”

Mr. Antonov says, “You have to preserve the dictatorship of virtue over moral cannibalism by any means necessary, Mr. Brinkman.”

“Well, how do you think we’re gonna do that,” Brinkman replies, “when my own traitorous daughter’s beating up the world’s greatest superheroes all by herself? And don’t tell me there’s a spiritual way, Martin, when she’s got both the Holy Grail and the Gospel of the New Genesis!” He points at Litton. “As for you, Mad Man, the rabble ain’t listening no more, and you know it!”

Admiral Currie says, “The rabble knows it can’t win when we have a lock on all the weapons and technology in the world.”

“Then how come you haven’t brought all your weapons and technology here?”

Nameless Reporter: Millions of people in nearly every major city in the world are filling the streets in solidarity with the people of Cascadia! Reports say that COPCO, the United States Police Force, the Property Liberation Army, and Al-Qaeda’s Revolutionary Enforcers are stretched to their limit!

The big monitor shows video on split-screen: every city throughout the Empire, in the Americas and Europe and colonial Asia and the Pacific; giant crowds of people swarming the streets and battling enraged mercenary enforcers; anti-corporate vigilantes smashing government-corporation offices; drones and copbots hacked and used against each other and their former masters — Admiral Currie giggles nervously as the Investors glare at him.

Nameless Reporter: Popular votes against CPMC are flooding in from all over the Empire and even from behind the Great Firewall in China! If we keep this up, we may be able to overcome CPMC’s cash advantage yet! Meanwhile, Lord Becket has ordered the World Bank to open the company an infinite line of credit...

Unfazed by Brinkman’s dismissal of his efforts, Litton slips one more propaganda video through the Great Firewall, intending to rally the people back to the Party. It begins with the Imperial flag waving proudly, followed by a montage of devout Americans holding up their right hands and glossolating.

Announcer: Fellow Americans, we united in 2001 to save the world from Islam, and we united in 2012 to sweep away the liberal barriers keeping us from destroying the Islamic menace. Don’t let liberal demagogues lead you astray, or the forces of darkness will snuff out freedom forever!

Shira says, He really thinks he can convince us to rush back to the slave pens.
AEGIS hoots. The Great Firewall itself is sending our reply.

[Soviet soldiers goosestep in formation for Comrade Stalin in old black-and-white file footage as a background for Shira.]

Shira: Don’t they look cool in those red-trimmed olive uniforms? Who said Comrade Stalin couldn’t match his ex-friend Hitler in the looks department?
Well, did you know half the Conservative Revolutionary Party used to worship Comrade Stalin before they found Jesus and switched sides? They won’t let you forget that America won the Cold War. Problem is, we won it by becoming the enemy. [cut to red “CCCP” banner, then Shira reappears] Welcome to the CCCP: the Confederacy of Conservative Christian, uh, whatever the ‘P’ stands for. [smiles sweetly, waves] Happy Election Day, y’all! [winks]

“CCCP?” complains Jack. “She just called us ‘CCCP’!”

“That’s ‘Patriots,’ you filthy slut!” yells Brinkman. “Not ‘Pricks,’ ‘Patriots’!”

Everson snarls, “Why don’t we just kill the bitch?”

Litton replies, “Bad idea.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” says Scofield.

“You wanna know how to become immortal?” The Foursome, their acolytes, and the Investors stare at him. “You become famous, and then you die. Celebrities make lucrative cults out of that. Better yet, get killed by the government. Then you’re a martyr.”
“You lie.”

“The gospel truth. Ain’t no way you’re gonna kill that bitch. So you guys just step aside let me deal with the bitch. You hear?”

“Your way don’t work on her,” Brinkman growls. “How many times has she proved it now?”

With a single voice the Investors proclaim, “You have already failed.” One by one, Investor after Investor says, “Only Echelon can save us now,” until the last one has spoken.

Currie declares, “We must summon NORAD!”

“What?” protests Litton. “Are you trying to martyr an entire city? Do you really want to turn Seattle into the Communist Masada?”

“It’s the only force on earth more powerful than the Liberators, and now it’s the only thing that can save America from falling victim to the Communist menace! We have no choice!”

Brinkman commands, “Summon NORAD!”

Litton gets in his face. “And turn North Cascadia into a nuclear wasteland?”

“We have better.” The Governor smiles.

Brinkman: This is my last warning to the filthy insurgent rabble of Cascadia. Either you surrender unconditionally and vow eternal fealty and service unto me, or I will destroy the entire state and leave nothing left but dust. I will exterminate you to the last rabid louse! Cease, or die. You have thirty minutes.

High above the sky, it comes. It is powered by solar cells that cover its wings. It explodes a nuclear bomb to create a city-destroying particle beam. It is the centerpiece of the American Empire’s Strategic Defense Initiative, the “Star Wars” celebrated in endless official propaganda. Its name is SOL-9000. It is the angel of death. And it is coming to Seattle on a mission of destruction.

Spanner: CPMC has just revealed its true nature. It is really an Islamic suicide bomber in the form of a giant corporation. Its mission is the same as Al-Qaeda’s: exterminate the people, leaving only the Chosen Race destined to conquer the infinite kingdom of space. [split-screen of Jesus America and Osama bin Laden cult images] Can you can tell the End-Times Messiahs apart? I never could.

The Liberators fly away, presumably back to Salem to rejoin the Fearsome Foursome and their Investors. The girl with the violet eyes flies into the arms of her lover. Shira lets her hoverboard fly away. They share a long passionate mid-air kiss. The girl deliriously purrs, “Wer geboren werden will, muss eine Welt zerstören...”

AEGIS says, Hey, girls! CPMC’s sent a distress call to NORAD, and it’s sending over a Star Wars killsat to destroy the city!

Shira goes dead calm. “Looks like the world wants to destroy us first.”

The girl’s eyes go wide. “Huh?”

Nameless Reporter: This just in: CPMC has just ordered a Star Wars killer satellite over Seattle. It looks like Chairman Brinkman means it!

Ariel flies up to the two nude girls hovering together, looking up at the approaching killsat. “Now you really need me.”

“We can only deflect its beam. There’s a less destructive way.”

“Can you form a binary system?”

“That’s how we killed King Patriot.”

Ariel gasps. Then she smiles. “Well! True love saved your life, and now it kills! Very well. I’ll stay out of your way.”

The girl kisses her. “Thank you.” Ariel flies away.

Sparks audiomessages, So Wally’s an even sorer loser than I thought. The Krewe and I are giving you and Kira all the malware you need. Upload it into the killsat, and with luck you might even kill NORAD with it. Good luck! He leaves her with several gigabytes of viruses, trojans, worms, and logic bombs.

Kira says, You too?

Find one or two crystals and Jen, Shira replies, then get up here and start fucking. We need all the binaries we can get.

Gotcha! Kira orders Shira’s hoverboard to find Jennifer, then flies over to the New Age shop with the most powerful crystals she can sense in order to rob it.

i am
JESUS
AMERICA

All the strikers emerge from shelter into the streets to stare up. Everyone throughout the Metropolitan City stops everything to look up at the bright light in the sky above the city. The Syndicates stop fighting, robbing, and raping; the ronin police stop fighting them and each other; the terrorist vigilantes stop attacking the Syndicates, the cops, and the people. All activity stops. There is nothing anyone can do.

Except for six superpowered women flying nude over downtown. Charlie and Desiree quickly join Shira and her girl with no name. Kira and Jennifer arrive with power crystals they insert into themselves; they order their hoverboards away and the other hoverboarders with them; suspended between the two more powerful couples, they do not fall. They look up. Brinkman’s Challenge is here. They are ready.

OBEY
OR
DIE

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[Revision 4 Final, 4/18/13: All scenes remaining from R2 heavily edited for Final Revision continuity. Some scenes taken from Chapters 19-22; new scenes added. Original R2 section title: “Vote Early, Vote Often.”]

Spanner 23.3: The Television Will Be Revolutionized

2013-04-21T17:58:00.001-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 23: Black Panic in the Suites
Part 3: The Television Will Be Revolutionized (Final Revision)

i am the lord your god

The new Conservative Revolutionary Party Central Committee, the Cold War superhero team known as the Liberators, have released an official statement.

The American Crusader: (Party Chairman Henry Becket) This insolent defiance cannot be tolerated.
The Scarab: (Lord Richard Becket) Your rebellion threatens to unravel the fabric of reality in Heaven as on Earth.
Liberty Belle: (Raylene Forster Becket) You’re destroying freedom!
The Super Patriot: (Colonel Tom Becket) To obey your leaders is to obey God. To disobey your leaders is to obey Satan.
The Nightwolf: (John Brinkman, Duke of Carolina) We are the chosen heroes of God.
The Shape: (civilian identity classified) God raised us above you for a reason.
The Streak: (Major “Speed” Thompson) God gifted us with power and not y’all!
The Sphinx: (Drusilla Becket AMERICA!) You are defying God himself!
Johnny Rebel: (Saxon Mobley) It’s Commonism!
The American Crusader: We, the Liberators, shall preserve American Freedom by any means necessary.
All: Freedom must prevail!

Naturally, their traditional enemy the Proletarian (the fourth; the Crusader duelled the second to the death in Vietnam) releases his rebuttal from his South American hideout, waving a small burning Imperial flag.

Proletarian: Freedom for their paymasters, slavery for the masses. It’s the American Way. USA.

Jennifer is surprised to find the same MxPx fans Willa loves to complain about marching alongside the strikers and eagerly discussing certain anticapitalist New Testament verses the Party removed from the Book of America. One gasps at the sight of her. “What are you doing without your clothes on?”

“I fight this way. Wet skin’s hard to hold onto.”

Another says, “Hey, aren’t you one of those radical types who’s got a problem with God?”

Jennifer points upward. “Look up in the sky. There you’ll find God’s chosen, all nine of ’em, ready to pour down his wrath upon the unheroic masses. The real Party leader sits on Heaven’s throne, just so you know.” The MxPxies shy away from her and return to the march.

She hears another gasp. Saida Ibrahim tries to hide behind a local imam with skullcap and neatly trimmed beard. He approaches her and holds out his hand. “Are you the famous Blonde Phantom?”

“How do you know about me?”

“The angels praise you to the throne of God for rescuing innocent Muslims from the Takfiri heretics though you yourself were naked, starving, and in unbelief.”

She reluctantly shakes his hand. “Don’t you know that if they catch you with us, they’ll call this a Caliphate op and smash the city?”

“We too are ordinary people. But we bear the burden of knowing that the only way to liberate our people from the Caliphate is to restore the Empire to all people. True justice depends on it.”

She eyes him suspiciously. “What about the ‘smite the infidels’ part?”

“Look up in the sky. There you’ll find them.”

Saida runs into her arms and holds her tight. “I don’t hate you.”

Jennifer kisses her cheek. “I still love you. It’s just that too many innocent people are getting hurt, and it breaks my heart.” She holds Saida tight and cries with her.

Will: What the hell, they’re using black helicopters?
Pilot: Stealing from their own conspiracy theory, eh?
Will: No, it’s that they’re using helicopters. If Debbie’s gone rogue, it’ll be a massacre.

Countless phonecams and AR scopes transmit the image of naked hoverboard girls rise on their lifters to the tune of “The Ride of the Valkyries,” ready to take on the black helicopters preparing to assault the people with weaponized Patriot Metal. Elle gives the cameras an enthusiastic thumbs-up and a wicked wink.

Shira: Up into the sky we go.
Kira: To fight the invaders from Olympus!
Radica: And earn our Achievement no matter what!
All: Up, up, and awaaaaay!

thou shalt have no other gods before me

Moon watches the “Like wow, they’re rilly doing it.”

Hope says grimly, “I sure hope they don’t get themselves killed.”

The alarm sirens sound. El Kabong shouts, “We’re under attack!”

Wolveroach says, “Maximum DDoS coming!”

“It’s the Property Liberation Army’s Cyber Division,” says Hope.

Selene begins the countdown. “Five...”

Wolveroach: “Firewalls standing up to initial assault!”

“Four...”

El Kabong: “Anti-spambot defenses holding!”

“Three...”

Evil the Cat: “The big hit’s coming! Prepare yourselves!”

“Two...”

Punisheroach: “Bring it on, motherfuckers.”

“One...”

Moon sings, “It’s heeere...”

“Y’all know what to do.”

The hackers reply in unison, “Upload!”

Amanda: What the—

All newsertainment disappears from the official networks, replaced by their regular patriotic propaganda.

Nameless Reporter: The MSM have given up, people! The airwaves now belong to you!

As the Great Firewall of Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited descends upon the American media and tries to invade the Darknet, half a million cameras on smartphones and AR glasses transmit live video of the strike to the Darknet, the world, and each other. As a million hackers calling themselves Anonymous go to war against the Property Liberation Army, countless camera operators capture the sight of strikers marching together, nude hoverboarders taking to the skies for an Achievement, Rockers on the ground and Patriot Metal Fanatics in the sky preparing to wage Rock ’N’ Roll war, and nine hovering superheroes waiting for the chance to smite the people in the name of American Freedom: without directors, without producers, without Media Lords or Party commissars or Chinese censors trying to suppress it.

Nameless Reporter: They say the revolution will not be televised. Not true! TV’s already gone through a revolution that makes the Conservative Revolution look, well, conservative. That’s right, people: your television has already been revolutionized! And now Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited has ordered America’s MSM off the airwaves. They’ve officially concede defeat!

The election system uploads to the cloud and erases its presence on the weak computers at election central. The hackers activate poison-pill defenses to trap the PLA supercomputers and botnets. Shira and Kira direct them to assimilate the MIRV Griffin “Spanner Botnet” that will infect them with the virus. The angel of chaos looms over the corpse-littered COPCO Seattle situation room and says, “You lose. Deal with it.”

The PLA botnet brute-forces its way into the election computers and assimilates everything on storage including the Spanner virus. CCP(H) CEO Weng takes over the official channels in an attempt to command the American people’s bicameral minds in hypnotically chanted Mandarin Chinese, but dissolves into digital noise when the virus begins to grind his botnet’s hard drives into shrapnel and is replaced by the fugitive images shot by the people’s own cameras, eventually settling on the vision of a beautiful woman stripped to the waist, shoulder-length brown hair unkempt, slim body drenched in sweat, determined to capture the moment; through the eyecam of the man called Scope, in a trembling breathless voice, she speaks to the world:

Nameless Reporter: People, this is the point of no return. We can’t allow ourselves to give up now. We lead together, or they’ll lead us to destruction. We fight until we win. We have to restore civilization, culture, and peace to the world. The world’s survival depends on us.

Currie blurts, “Is that woman preaching Commonism?”

Scofield snarls, “She’s telling them to rebel against everything virtuous and heroic!”

Light growls, “This repulsive social metaphysics!”

Everson whimpers, “This horrific moral cannibalism!”

Brinkman howls, “If we let ’em win, they’ll cut off our heads and drink our blood!”

The silent grim Investors watch the big screeen. One of them vomits into his spitoon from the sheer creepy alienness of the rebels. Litton looks at Drusilla’s empty seat and crosses his fingers.
“Remember what you’re up against, Liberators. You don’t wanna get owned on live TV.”

“We’re superheroes,” Johnny Rebel audiomessages back, “and they’re nothing.”

“Remember what we’re fighting for,” Jennifer exhorts the assembled nudefighters. “We’re not just fighting to take back control of our own bodies. We’re fighting for decent wages, hourse, and benefits for all workers, the right to work and live and love, freedom from want and fear. Get rid of any romantic notions of heroism, stop thinking of yourselves as special like the superheroes up there, tell your Egos to shut up and get out. We’re not just fighting beside the the people, we are the people. The only alternative to democracy and socialism is extinction. The bastards are coming; let’s hit ’em hard!” They answer with howls, cheers, and pumping fists. She gives the signal to scatter.

The girl with the violet eyes does not travel far before she finds them: her tattooed mother Taylor in Goth Rocker gear; her aunt Ariel in black witch’s robe and hat; Charlie, Desiree, and their daughter Melody, nude and sweaty and already giving off sparks. Ariel winks. The girl nods. With a mighty Repulse they launch together into the sky.

Three trenchcoated ronin police watch them fly among the camera-wielding crowd. “Yo, boys,” says Lavette Perry, “which side are we on?”

“Let’s see,” says Jim Sparks, “Dad’s dead, we’re fired, the Guild’ll fuck us over if we don’t go merc, what do you think?”

“I know what side all the hot naked babes are on,” says Stu Kowalczyk.

Perry wags her finger. “Don’t go all perv on us.”

“Why? Jealous?”

Sparks says, “Well, we sure as fuck ain’t working for CCP.”

“Damn straight.”

“Word that,” says Perry. They look up in the sky.

They’ve got the app in their cranial computers to boost their reality distortion fields, and hardware in their hoverboards. Half a dozen helicopters attack Shira and Kira with Patriot Metal only to lose its force in the atmospheric warp. The twins dart out of the way of the Rockers’ answer blast. The pilots suddenly lose control — not engine failure nor the Rockers below — six coordinated Repulse fields aim their sound cannons at each other — they blow up with a deafening boom that sends the strikers scurrying back to shelter.

thou shalt not revile the gods

Everybody looks up. Perry asks, “What the hell was that?”

Hope says, “That sounded like it came all the way from space.”

Shira and Kira look at each other. Shira: Is that what I think it is? Kira: Oh, my, fucking, gawd—

Sparks cries out at the top of his lungs, “That’s Echelon!”

nor curse the ruler of thy people

The Fearsome Foursome and their entourage cheer at the sound of Echelon’s voice and the appearance of its All-Seeing Eye emblem. The Investors let out an audible sigh of relief. Everson raises his arms and cries out, “We’re saved!”

Currie says, “The cavalry’s riding in at last!”

Scofield says, “They sure took their sweet time.”

Brinkman declares, “We’ve got the superheroes. We’ve got the megacomputers. Even the gods and the One God himself are on our side! Now let’s put the rabble back in their place, good and hard!” The CPMC and Party leaders cheer; the Investors nod in approval.

All cheers stop when the emblem of Echelon vanishes, replaced by the face of Spanner. Brinkman whispers, “Oh, no.”

Spanner: Now you’ve gone and done it, American Remnant. You’ve declared war against your own people. You’ve decided to wipe your own cities off the face of the earth. Over the moral event horizon ride the virtuous men of wealth. [a beat pirated from Queen’s “We Will Rock You” fades in] We, will, we, will, hack you.
Currie: (in inset) Angel of chaos, you cannot win! Echelon and NORAD together are the most powerful force known to man, able to command the wills of the whole human race and overcome Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited! You have already lost! The Revolution is eternal!
Spanner: You think I’m a computer. You think I’m a virus. You think I’m a botnet. I am none of these things. I am certainly not a superhero. I am chaos made form. I bring you the one thing neither you nor the gods you serve can survive: the freedom of uncertainty. Behold, I bring it on! [dissolves into a violent chaos of video noise]

Brinkman quickly switches off the monitor to prevent any leaders from contracting a bicameral-mind virus. He slams his mighty fist on the table. “Damn him! So he’s decided to attack us directly! We must stop that abomination before he causes any real damage. I want him dead!”

Doctor 42 calls Jack Becket to give him a grim message. “Spanner has taken over the division mainframe.”

Litton says, “Spanner is a very clever man. We need to match him with a very clever plan.”

“Nonsense!” exclaims Currie. “The Defense Department has put too much time and money into building the greatest national security defense system in history! There is no, way, it can fail!”

“Gentlemen, your system is fighting a war on two fronts,” says Mr. Antonov.

“In addition, it is under attack from every hacker in the world,” says Mr. Seon.

Currie shakes his fist. “You’re forgetting God and money are on our side! We’ve already revolutionized the world! Please, have, faith!”

The Investors slowly shake their heads. Mr. Martensen says, “We shall see.”

Nameless Reporter: Echelon has issued his Challenge against the people, and Spanner throwing Echelon a Challenge of his own!

The Streak attempts a sneak attack on Shira only to be Repulsed by an angry girlfriend into a Patriot Metal copter which immediately explodes. The Shape tries to swallow Kira; Melody takes her place, lets him engulf her, and unleashes a high-voltage blast that makes him scream and let her go. Only Drusilla’s Repulse field saves her teammates from falling to their deaths.

Richard Becket finds his nemesis Ariel Shield hovering in his way and waving the briefcase containing the Gospel of the New Genesis temptingly before him. “Ariel! You’ve brought it to me at last!”

She laughs. “No, uncle, I’m just showing you that I have it, and then I’m not giving it to you!”

“You traitorous bitch!” He fires a blast from his staff; she casually Repulses it into three helicopters in a deafening blinding explosion.

While no one can hear, she implants a telepathic message into his brain: Once again, your Ego is making you forget that I am invincible. And I shall continue to defend the anawim against you, the Anakim.

Their day is long past, Ariel. We have already revolutionized the world.

Uncle, your Revolution is over. You have already lost. He tries to kill her with a stronger blast. Seven more Patriot Metal copters blow up.

i am jesus america

Echelon tries to force its way into human mindspace. The PLA botnet tries to devour it. A million hackers assault them both. Spanner inserts himself into Echelon’s mind.

It counterattacks with the brute force of a million processors working in sync, with Yoyodyne’s deadliest ICE, with the most destructive icebreakers Dictel Research can engineer. The angel of chaos fragments into millions of independent Glitches rapid-firing disintegrator programs into the ICE, flinging Anon malware at it with simulated gravity lenses, fusing and breaking apart again with seeming randomness, the many against the one. Camdrones fall from the Cascadian skies like a rain of steel and plastic frogs while Spanner uses their hijacked processors to launch a DDoS of unprecedented scale; the processors melt down before the camdrones hit the ground. When Echelon returns its focus back to him, he attacks its satellites and remote bases with its own icebreakers, copied and customized to its firewalls and ICE.

At last it relents. Its voice breaks up.

i... am...

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[Revision 4 Final, 4/17/13: Mostly new material for Final Revision continuity.]

Spanner R4 Update: Another Difficult Installment (23.3's Coming Tomorrow)

2013-04-20T16:25:00.001-07:00

As I continue to recover from baby week (by now my grandma has seen her new great-grandson), I find I've worked myself into a corner yet again. That baby week was also Al-Qaeda bombing week didn't help, considering how much I loathe the kind of psychopaths who would join that prison gang.

The issue with 23.3 involves structure. This should be no surprise, considering how complex 23.1 and 23.2 turned out to be. I have my scenes and plot threads laid out in handwritten ink on scratch paper laid out before me. The tricky part is putting them in the proper tricky order.

Meanwhile, I inserted a new Revision 4.1 scene into 21.3, in which a frazzled Jennifer finally answers classmate Saida Ibrahim's question in Chapter 5, "Why does everybody here hate Muslims so much?" The answer is: it's Man Rage in its purest form, exactly what nearly trashed Bangor High in the previous scene. 23.3 will have another resolution to that thread as another Arab exile tries to speak reason to her (in the new 21.3 scene, she's acting very much like a typical angry deconvert), because Muslims are fighting against the Caliphate too, to reclaim their homelands from it and its symbiotic enemy, the American Empire.

So 23.3 is my Saturday night project. I'm going to cool down, turn on the music, and structure the thing. I'm posting 23.3 tomorrow. I will finish this thing.

Spanner 23.2: Warriors of Rock

2013-04-19T17:53:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 23: Black Panic in the Suites
Part 2: Warriors of Rock (Final Revision)

A call the Party Chairman made earlier that morning to Willa, leaked onto the Darknet and just now reaching the official news:

Henry: How come nobody’s been able to put down your accursed little insurrection?”
Willa: (smiles) You won.
Henry: That is not an answer!
Willa: You defeated the liberals. You destroyed the Democratic Party. You pulled off the Conservative Revolution. Yet not once did you realize that by wiping out the liberal establishment, you eliminated the precious liberal buffer that insulated your class against popular discontent. Now that liberalism is no longer there to serve as a breakwater, you have to face the storms of popular revolt directly.
Henry: (stares uncomprehendingly) (pause) You have got to be kidding me.
Willa: Congratulations, Harry. You got your wish. You destroyed the Democrats. You swept liberalism into the trashcan of history. Now taste the fruit of victory! Have a nice day, darling! [laughs maniacally, raises her violin, plays — a strange loud noise blows up the phone]
Henry: Willaaaa— (punches camera)

In Seattle, Portland, Vancouver; in Tacoma, Fort Vancouver, Victoria; in every significant city throughout the state of Cascadia, people crowd the city centers carrying worker committee banners, Cascadia state flags, and protest signs demanding the ouster of CPMC. They are working people: people reduced to near-slavery, people threatened with near-slavery, people no longer able to work at all because wages are considered uneconomical: and they make themselves heard as they wait for the chance to vote.

Strikers: (chant) Cascadia is free! Dump CPMC!

CPMC’s answer blots out the sky above: countless drones, most of them newly shipped from Yoyodyne assembly lines accelerated into overdrive; a new army of USPF Mech Knights hellbent on avenging their fallen comrades; combat helicopters armed with sound cannons ready to assault the city with weaponized Patriot Metal whose Superstar, Tom E. Breydon, awaits Brinkman’s command.

The pirate networks answer with a fleet of flatbed trucks bearing the sound cannons Shane and Oz got off the black market, each one connected through an amplifier and pedalboard to an instrument wielded by a Rocker. In Seattle, Breydon must face the full extended lineup of his old band, the Band with No Name: guitarists Ric Thomas, Jon Angel, Ryuji Suzuki, Rayer Pace, and Simon Remington; electric violinist Willa Richter-Thomas; keyboardists Betty Shears, Mylan Ferris, and Rumour Pace wielding circuit-bent Casios; bassists Raven Shears, Ruby Shears, Tim Drake, Randell Taylor, and Sari Angel; drummers Len Schafer, Paul Angel, and Sheryl Case; and turntablists Shockmaster Rock and Alex Plus.

Ric: How come Rock ’N’ Roll ain’t been this relevant in ages?
Willa: We only got to be Rock Stars and intimidate people.
Ryu: (to the crowd) We! are! the Warriors of Rock!

A “scopevid” from someone’s fashion AR goggles records this exchange between a striker and three nudefighters:

Striker: What the— Why won’t you girls put on any clothes?
Elle: (excitedly) The Party are pitting Men’s Rights against workers’ rights, and we’re ready to fight! (punches into left hand)

Down below in the subway, unbothered by buses and light-rail trains idled by the strike, a part-wood steampunk robot dominates a deranged hacker (identified by the COPCO system as one J. Freedom Mobley) who abases himself before her because this is no ordinary wood girl but an exobody for Harlequinette the Clockwork Girl. Security video captures them in strange communion, but there is no audio because Harlequinette speaks directly to his bicameral mind. She reminds him that his brothers Anson and Terry are inferior because they are dead; he replies that he too is dead, dead to the world, and he is now only her instrument, the righteous terrorist who bears the superhero name Toymaker, master bomber to the Conservative Revolution.

Locke Holmes: You persist in your traitorous insurrection? I have planted bombs where they will kill the most people. You cannot find them. I won’t tell you where they are or how many. I am confident there are none among you who can comprehend my genius.

cpmc headquarters. The Fearsome Foursome are (current lineup) Governor J. Walter Brinkman, Chief Jack Becket, Shepherd-Mayor Luke Everson, and Admiral Reynard S. Currie. They assemble in the vast boardroom of the Salem corporate head office with Holmes, Radisson, Litton, General Patrick Peterson, Drusilla Becket AMERICA!, her Patriot Metal Superstar acolytes Byron Scofield and Jeremiah Light, and the Investors, High Corporates so blessed with infinite wealth they are able to buy sovereign immunity and a place in the hierarchy outranked only by the Houses of Becket and Brinkman. One of them, a Mr. Vronsky, says, “It is indeed as Mr. Buffett said—”

“Are you advocating anarchy?” snaps Brinkman. “You pay us to protect freedom against anarchy! I’ll liberate this Communist hellhole if it kills me!”

Holmes grins triumphantly. “No, Mr. Brinkman, we’re liberating it from the Communist rabble even if we have to kill ’em all.”

“By any means necessary,” says Everson. “We’re faced with counterrevolution.”

“We’re trying to prevent the return of 1917,” says Currie.

“No, Reynard,” says Litton, “this is 1792. You know what that means.”

Holmes pumps his fist. “Unleash the Terror to save the Revolution!”

Brinkman exclaims, “Let’s open a can of Revolution on their commie asses!”

Suddenly the air goes still. All talk stops. All attention goes to the big screen above the Chairman. He gasps when he sees a grinning Shira, arms strategically crossed, in front of the bouncing-breast eyes and Cheshire Cat grin of Rebel Styles’ emblem. “How are you gentlemen!” she purrs. “Wanna know why you can’t kill me? The reason is simple. Her name is Rebel Styles.” Everyone holds their breath in terror as the terrifying emblem replaces Shira in the foreground and fades into Rebel’s delicate loli head until Shira returns. “She’s a faithkiller, a mind virus engineered to cause horrific death by destroying the mind of faith, MPTP for jihadis.” Gasps and muffled screams answer her.

“You stole my granddaughter, what the hell else do you want?”

Shira answers with video of Rockers stationed next to the surplus sound cannons. “We’ve connected Rock ’N’ Roll instruments to sound blasters all over the city. Never mind what they can do to your precious drones and mechs. Harm me, my friends, or my people, and the Rockers will play, and Rebel Rebel will sing just for y’all. Wanna know what happens when she opens her mouth? Just ask Wayne Tremayne. ’Bye, Wally!” She disappears, and the pretty head of Rebel Styles takes over to open her mouth; just before she can speak, the call abruptly ends and the big screen turns blue.

Dead silence. Brinkman breaks it with a howl of rage.

i am the lord your god

Along the march route they find the Toymaker’s finest creations, four bombs he believes can annihilate the whole strike. The twins have the computers Dr. Whistler implanted in their skulls; Jennifer and Sparks wear shoe-powered hat computers: they communicate by audiomessage. Sparks: These are some damn complicated contraptions.

Shira: He put some love into ’em for sure.

Kira: He really thinks he can stump us this time?

Only long enough to get rid of us and half the city.

Sparks: Don’t forget, one bomb goes off, all civilians are automatically convicted and the blood orgy begins.

Jennifer: Wait a minute—

The others: What?

I can’t see the electricity through this thing, but I can sure see the pattern.

Shira: Kirlian app!

Okay, got it — whoa baby, sending pictures right now. She sends a series of app-enhanced photos of her bomb with circuits glowing. The twins study it.

Shira and Kira: *gasp* That’s it! They send the others complete disarming instructions, and AEGIS transmits them to the bomb squads in other cities.

Nameless Reporter: Big Brother, watch out! Little Brother is everywhere, and he’s watching you!

The people on the street learn about the Terrorist from the Darknet. None of them watch the official channels or even care. They record what they see with the cameras on their phones and AR goggles. Crowdsourced information tells their AR apps where the rallies are and will be, where the authorities are attacking, where the bombs are still being removed, and where the left-wing factions are trying to hijack their collective effort. One fanatical faction leader in a black mask insults the crowd and demands they get violent revenge against the Party. A beautiful naked girl with pale skin, black hair, gangsterskin fighting gear, and no name climbs up and punches him off the platform to the strikers’ cheers.

Nameless girl: Don’t listen to these guys! They’re only vigilantes! They only wanna kill people!

Holmes checks his watch. He switches the monitor to all the networks: no terror news? “Why aren’t they going off?”

The Toymaker calls sobbing, “They ruined my babies, Rocky! They’ll pay for hurting my babies! Harlequinette will make them pay!”

Harlequinette slips behind him and tells him comfortingly, “I have other tools. They are flying in the sky. They will collect our victims and hunt the angel of chaos.” She knocks the Toymaker out and escapes into dreamspace; now just another unused exobody, the wooden girl collapses to the floor with a clatter.

She approaches Holmes only to see him tightly wrapped and hidden inside an eldritch entity, his own Ego. Unable to possess him and direct the destruction of the cities, she finds a COPCO Shirabot in Seattle and slips into it only to find it already infected by the Spanner virus. She prepares to battle it, confident that she can defeat a mere virus; but the virus’ mistress appears as a giant face. One reality distortion later, Harlequinette finds herself in limbo.

telesphere. On all screens, a man in black motorcycle helmet and Minuteman red jacket commands the picture, only he’s not Spanner. His voice is scrambled.

The Terrorist: I know you stupid commie faggots. You like to call me “The Terrorist.” In Jesus America’s name, don’t call me the Terrorist! I’m an angel from God.

You’ve pissed me off for the last time, you faggots. This is my last offer. You give me all the money you’ve got and your total and humiliating obedience and, hmm, crown me your king and worship me as your god, [camera zooms out] I might spare your worthless liberal faggot lives by not blowing up your butt-ugly commie liberal city. [gestures toward nuke behind him] You’ve got until [checks watch] about five minutes from now. I’m kinda hoping youAAAh!—

A bat hits and shatters the Terrorist’s faceplate from off camera. The helmeted man who becomes the object of the camera’s attention is Spanner. He hammers the Terrorist in the shoulders and face several more times, then wrestles him into a full nelson and forces the villain to face the camera.

Spanner: Well, well, well. I should have known. The Fearsome Foursome are back up to their old tricks again. They even hired a mercenary assassin to destroy the city. His name is... [he wrests the helmet off the man’s head to reveal a steroid-faced Moral Enforcer with a shattered nose] Stanley Green, self-righteous drug pusher!
Stan Green: You fu—

Spanner interrupts the bullyboy with his fist, breaking his jaw and then knocking him out with a strike to the left temple. The signal suddenly goes out—

—and the regularly scheduled newsertainment resumes with all network presenters screaming.

thou shalt have no other gods before me

Amanda: The heroic Tech Knights are making their move now!

The drone fleet descends from the clouds to the city, ready to bomb civilian gatherings and shoot civilians into bloody shreds.

Nameless Reporter: The Warriors of Rock are tuned up and ready to destroy!
Ric Thomas: (holds out arms) I am the god of hellfire!

The Rockers’ hands are in position, ready to attack their instruments. The Tech Knights remote their drones into position and await the order. Civilians flee into buildings and subway entrances.

Admiral Currie: Rock them monkeys to Hell!
Willa: Fire!

The Rockers launch into scorching solos amplified into lethal blasts of sound that shatter windows and rattle the drones before the Tech Knights can start mashing buttons.

Ric: Up to eleven, motherfuckers! (destroys dronecam)
Amanda: Eeeek!

Nameless Reporter: *sigh* ♥

They scour the sky with their sound cannons; they search for drones to destroy; they target from near and far and devastate the drone-filled skies with weaponized Rock ’N’ Roll. Before long, the drone fleet is destroyed or crippled; shrapnel and machine parts rain from the sky.

Admiral Currie: Wha— No, that’s impossible! They’re only celebrities!
General Peterson: Now it’s my turn.

The leftist factions run out into the metal rain, smash every storefront in sight, throw Molotov cocktails — and get beaten up by Spannerbots.

Shira: Dear vanguardist vigilante elite, you suck. Stop interfering with our strike. Y’all ain’t taking our moment away from us just so you can be the Man by beating the Man. So get your posses out! No vigilantes allowed!

The Syndicates launch attacks against the factions and each other. They battle for the love of battle, not caring that they might get brained, and some do. Whatever gangsters remain alive and uncrippled are summarily beaten by hacked copbots.

Shira finds Talia alone and injured in a hidden nook of an old building. But the first thing Talia says: “Shira! Why the hell are you naked?”

“Fighting right-wing vigilantes, that’s why. If you’re wondering why the Slasher Hunters aren’t joining you, well, you just can’t do revolution by posse. Case in point: every failed Latin American revolution ever, and Jesse James.”

“Shira, you’re in our way.”

“Wrong! Your posse’s in the way of our general strike. Real revolution’s for civilians only, not some vigilante élite. Wild West’s over, girl. The frontier’s closed forever. Now let me call you up some medical attention.” Shira kisses her. Talia sighs in resignation.

Outside, civilian strikers once again flood into the streets to clean the streets of drone debris and the broken bodies of the fallen warriors of crime and vengeance.

Amanda: The virtuous men of wealth are voting for CPMC to the tune of billions of dollars!

“Mama, it can’t work,” says Talia over the phone to election central.

“Talia, stop being so defeatist,” Hope replies. “We’ve been preparing for this for two years. We know so much about our opponents now, we cant let that go to waste.”

Shira interrupts. “Hope darling, she thinks civilians are just like Corporates, just like the Corporates.”

“Tal darling, let the people show the world what they’re made of. This revolution belongs to them.” Talia sighs bitterly.

“Plan B’s like ready,” says Moon Roach.

“Plan C is go,” says Evil The Cat.

“CCP’s not that easy, guys,” Shira says. “Better be ready to use Plan Z.”

i am a jealous god vengeance is mine

Amanda: This is amazing! They’re taking time from the strike to clean up the mess left by the drones!
Admiral Currie: (angrily, bright red) Those insurgent fools should be lying there with the trash! They’ve got no respect for authority!

Her red hair wind-whipped like a revolutionary flag, a beautiful and vivacious adolescent girl, nude yet seemingly unconscious of her nudity, scales a platform to inspire the strikers.

Elle: We can’t give up when we’re this close to our goal! Let’s keep fighting till we take back our lives and our freedom at last!

Mr. Xi warns Brinkman, “You have no choice but to allow Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited to acquire your company. It is the only thing that will save your property from complete anarchy.”

While thousands of hacked copbots relieve the strikers of cleanup duty, joined by USPF mechs carrying the corpses of their Mech Knight pilots, the naked hoverboarders prepare to launch: Shira, Kira, Liz, Radica, Akimi, and Elle. The bots stop to shake their metal fists collectively at the Black Tower. With one voice, the voice of Spanner, ten thousands Spannerbots shout at CPMC, “You have no chance to survive make your time!”

on to the next... →

Back to Chapter 23 index...
Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

[Revision 4 Final, 4/16/13: Mostly new material, plus various older scenes heavily revised for Final Revision continuity.]

Spanner R4 Update: Baby Week #amediting Continues, 23.2 Will Post Tomorrow

2013-04-18T17:15:00.001-07:00

The nephew is more or less out of the nursery, and I even got to hold him. Since he goes home tomorrow, that's when I'm scheduling Spanner 23.2 to post. I'm taking advantage of the involuntary breather to catch my breath and take a second look at the work I've done on 23.2 so far; sure enough, I've found extra room for improvement, including some things I managed to forget about in my haste, including the by now necessary duel between the Wrecking Krewe hackers and the drone-operating Tech Knights.

Meanwhile, I've begun writing notes for Chapter 1 and various character arcs of what has already transformed from Revision 4.1 into a full-blown Fifth Revision, the reason for this being one Elle Shears, Fourth-Generation Rocker Child (her self-description). All of a sudden during the 23.2 R4 edit, she blossomed from a collection of details into a full-blown character; then she took the opportunity during the current hiatus to start bugging me to retrofit her into more scenes of the final revised ebook and threw in a few surprises. And so I'll be not just retconning but retrofitting her into Chapter 1 R5, and she'll even replace Karen in many of her Chapter 2 appearances (especially those with Shira) in part because she makes a better contrast to Rebel Styles. Now that she's made herself a major character, she's even bringing in a new character (one from the Project Notebooks whom I managed to leave out) who will serve as a secondary School Arc villain and give me an excuse to shoehorn more "Elle, Mel, Belle, and Lil" scenes into the School Arc, among other things. I'm already writing the notes down.

Meanwhile, 23.2 posts tomorrow and 23.3 will follow on its heels on Saturday.

Spanner R4 Update: Chapter 23 Delayed by New Baby Nephew, Alas

2013-04-17T16:52:00.001-07:00

Sometimes real life gets in the way. Case in point: the new nephew, who since being born yesterday has the whole extended family running back and forth and spending most of our time at the hospital and otherwise away from home, leaving us all tired and frazzled. I haven't had time to even touch Spanner 23.2 since Monday, when 23.1 posted. We'll have little time to ourselves until Friday, when the nephew finally goes home with his parents.

I am now re-editing 23.1, and then I will post it on Friday.

Spanner 23.1: Welcome to My Revolution

2013-04-15T17:00:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 23: Black Panic in the Suites
Part 1: Welcome to My Revolution (Final Revision)

When the government fears the people,
there is liberty.
When the people fear the government,
there is tyranny.
Thomas Jefferson

The People! [spits]
The People is the Great Beast!
Alexander Hamilton

4 november 2014.

The vision begins unambiguously. Crowds of protesters gather throughout the Metropolitan City of Seattle. COPCO strike and robot agents attack them with tear gas, Tasers, and electric whips. Then a man on a motorcycle in a black helmet passes by and throws a Molotov cocktail straight at the dreamer(s)—

—time contracts expands warps, events happen and don’t happen simultaneously, buildings dance jitterbugs, cats rape dog—

copco seattle. Doctor 42, Karl Radisson, Diana Shockley, and an injured Locke Holmes look on grimly as five precogs are brought out of the laboratory dead, rigid in grotesque twisted positions of horror as if plastinated. Jack Becket screams at Doctor 42, “Bryce, you idiot! I told you Spanner is already here! You didn’t have to bring your damn precogs right in the middle of a reality storm!”

Doctor 42 shouts back, “We can read any man’s fate, even Spanner’s!”

“Three words: reality distortion field! Spanner’s immune to fate!”

That last word seems to summon his father’s call like an evil spirit. The Party Chairman appears on screen in full superhero costume. “John.”

“Yes, father.”

“I am coming. You are dismissed.”

“What? But father—”

“Brendan Sparks is dead. COPCO has died with him. Only I can save America’s destiny from the Communist threat. The world needs a hero. I alone am that hero. You shall not interfere. In the name of God, go!” And he disappears from the screen.

The security managers assembled in the COPCO Seattle situation room say nothing more.

ask spanner.
Q: Why do you have it in for our Revolutionary Heroes?
A: Want the list? It’s so long, the whole thing would DDoS Echelon. We released only a small sampling of their crimes. That they always get away with them speaks libraries about your Revolution.

11 september 2001...
Stunned by the horrors of Osama bin Laden’s terror attack, Shira and Kira come up to their father, Ric Thomas. Shira asks, “Dad, why did they have to kill so many people?”

Grimly, Ric replies, “What is terrorism? A supervillain’s declaration that he is now dictator, and the people must surrender unconditionally or be destroyed. Some foreign wacko cult just told us they’re our new government and to obey or else. That’s how terrorism works.”

“We can stand up to those bullies,” says Kira confidently.

“Us, yeah. But will our government let us? They’ve wanted a new enemy since they lost their beloved Soviet Union, and now their fondest wish has come true at last...”

25 august 2012...
On the burning cratered Mall, among the shredded corpses, Kira lies in Shira’s arms, seemingly dying. “Please don’t die on me, Kira!” wails Shira. “Hang in there!”

“Lya...” whispers Kira before she falls unconscious.

Then the cruel merciless armoured soldiers swarm the twins and separate them with their crushing arms. The twins cry out each other’s name. John Cameron Becket, the one-eyed warrior prince, carries their mentor, his victim, Lya Cassir over his shoulder. In triumph he laughs contemptuously at the defeated people...

21 december 2012...
the last liberals imprisoned or converted — the Factor Positives sacrificed for the Transcendental Illumination — all surviving Slender Man proxies killed off to keep the secret — the people vanquished — Roger Steele Becket of Dictel, Incorporated, enthroned as King Patriot of the American Empire — Osama bin Laden laughs in Hell—

Q: Why are you a terrorist?
A: When did you last beat your wife?
Q: I asked you a question, damn it!
A: I asked the same question. Next!

Brinkman: ~~rabid old cur~~ You idiots, I ordered you to cease your petulant protests! But noooo, you continued to violate the Law. I warned you your defiance threatens the very order of existence itself! Henceforth, I’m forced to declare martial law statewide, effective immediately. From now on, I’m dictator! The Law is my word alone!
Dr. Jenna Hunter: ~~stole the teachers’ pension fund~~ We don’t need those stupid students who started this chaos, and I’m sure as hell not returning their unearned tuition. I’m putting it where it belongs, in the markets, where it’ll profit only the deserving. I’ll sell to Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited if I have to.
Brendan Sparks: ~~isn’t he supposed to be dead?~~ We fought the Revolution to save the world from collectivist tyranny. And now the population of your entire state is committing defying all order to impose the Communism we fought so long and hard to defeat? This is the last straw. Starting immediately, our company will send all the agents necessary to put down this treasonous insurrection. If necessary, we will call on our friends in Russia and China to supply reinforcements.
Drusilla Becket AMERICA!: ~~molests her acolytes as a power trip~~ Jesus America is the one and only God. Jesus America is not the God of the many. God has chosen the few, the deserving, the individuals. He has gifted his chosen with infinite wealth and fame. Now the many have rejected their place in humble service to God’s chosen and turned as a collectivist mass against Our Nation, the one God. He shall punish them with his wrath, and then he will punish them with supernatural torment for eternity.
Richard Becket: ~~ate all Kira’s clones~~ You fools! Don’t you realize you’re committing mass suicide? We no longer need unreliable human workers when we can now produce everything we need with machines. We no longer need fickle consumers now that wealth is fully independent of consumption. The System no longer needs you. If in your petty resentment and your greed for the unearned you decide you want to destroy the System, then we’ll get rid of you. We have already entered the posthuman age. Humanity is obsolete. Corporations, not men, are the heirs to the future.
Admiral Currie: ~~rips limbs off live muggles for giggles~~ Stupid monkeys! You have defied your betters for the last time. This is our final demand. Surrender unconditionally, or you’ll force to declare the entire State of Cascadia collectively guilty of treason and begin saturation bombing at once. (sparkly grin)
Will Becket: ~~pussy-whipped bloodsucker, sparkle-sparkle~~ If you unravel the very fabric of Western Civilization itself and the Empire falls apart, it’s your fault.
Brinkman: ~~sore loser sore loser sore loser~~ There will be no election! CPMC does not have elections! CPMC is the government! CPMC is owned by me! I’m the sole owner of CPMC! I, and I alone, am the government! I am the president, the legislature, and the judiciary! It’s all me! I am the Law! The Law is my word, my whim! You’re on my private property, you parasites! Stop protesting, and get back to doing what I say! Okay? Please?
Henry Becket: ~~humorless super-spoilsport~~ I am coming. Surrender now, or prepare to die.

Q: Are you and Rebel Styles the same person?
A: Are Batman and Catwoman the same person?

Nameless Reporter: (among the strikers) The people are now on strike all across Cascadia! If the Corporates react the way they always have, it’ll spread for certain to the Owners themselves and even Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited.
Hope: People all over this state have had enough. We’ve taken to the streets, and we won’t even think of going back to work until CPMC gives up and gives us our state back.
Desiree: (burns her superhero costume) My mother taught me that heroes stand above the people and stomp on ’em if they get out of line. Then they started stomping on each other: it’s clobberin’ time, Hulk smash. I realized how much I hate superheroes. The real heroes are in the streets, not the suites.
Shira: (surrounded by fellow nudefighters) I know you Corporate man-boys. You gonna send your steroid Man Power legions to rape our corpses? Try it and we’ll take the fight straight to you. That means you, wolfman.
Willa: Congratulations, Conservatives. You won. Your Revolution destroyed the liberals. Guess what that means? Nothing left to protect you against the people. Happy Election Day to you.
Nameless Reporter: Despite Governor Brinkman’s vow, the people are determined to hold the election no matter what.
Hope: We the people will settle for nothing less than our freedom back.
Spanner: There is no Law.
Amanda: This is not good.

Q: If there’s no rulers, who will keep the people under control?
A: Who keeps the rulers under control? What happens when the rulers are out of control?

south seattle. Simon, Alex, and Nick take over the CUNT cell’s former Rainier Beach hideout and move Team Bremelo in. The nudefight girls wear new fighting boots and gloves made from the terrorists’ tattooed white skin. Jennifer: “Why, Stavros’ tattoos look better on you than him.”

“Thanks, my love,” says Shira. “You know what it took to earn ’em.” She embraces her, kisses her, and winks.

The house is a complete mess. The late occupants couldn’t be bothered with even garbage disposal. Three homeless drunks soil the couch. The girl with no name holds her nose but fails to filter out the stench. “What a manky kip. It’s worse than a bloody skip! Can’t you find a better safe house, Simon? This place is shite!”

“You wanna be part of the revolution,” says Simon, ”better accept what you get, even sleeping in skips with the bums. We gotta kip somewheres, luv.”

“Easy for a Rocker to say.”

“So learn to Rock ’N’ Roll.”

Elle sits on the bench at the beat-up old piano. “A revolutionary garret’s a very romantic place.” She winks. The girl sighs and lets herself fall into Shira’s arms, and they kiss. Elle spins, opens the keyboard, and starts playing a jaunty old-fashioned Rock ’N’ Roll tune. The piano’s out of tune, but her skill and youthful enthusiasm shine through.

Jennifer spots an issue of one of the newest Anglophile gangster-fetish “yob mag” titles on the floor. She bends to pick it up, then grins mischievously and stands to hold it high. “Why, look at this! Could it be one of those regularly published instruction manuals, full of National Front propaganda, on how to become a perfectly naff git?”

The girl says, “Cut out the pretty-lady parts, bin the rest.”

“Consider it done.” Jennifer picks up a scissors off the table, snips it twice, and winks.

Polly struggles to keep from vomiting. “I wonder how they even manage to live with all this squalor.”

Akimi replies with contempt, “Gaman makes their otoko-chan feel big.”

“They call themselves ‘Big Swingin’ Dicks,’” says Shira. ”They think if they can handle this, they’re Man enough to handle anything.” With a shudder and a groan, Polly’s already low opinion of macho men descends into the abyss.

The nameless girl notices the drunken men staring at them. She decides to be a tease. She turns her back on them and bends slightly to emphasize the shape of her buttocks. She slaps the left cheek three times and winks. “So you like me pretty arse? I’ll let you look.” She shakes her butt several times. They drool helplessly.

“Stop it!” shouts Liz. “Why do you keep pulling that ‘sex object’ crap? We’re supposed to be feminists!”

“Beauty is power, comrade. Beautiful women possess power over men.”

Shira adds, “That’s what makes Man Egos go evil.”

“We need every weapon to hand.”

Liz sighs. “If you say so...”

The smartwatch under Shira’s right glove plays a ringtone. Elle stops playing. “Hello? You got it, J.T.? Awesome!” To the others: “We got a base, playground at a closed school, right under La Hunter’s nose.” The nudefighters cheer. To Elle: “Kira’s waiting.” She winks; Elle gasps.

Q: What the hell do you think we are, terrorist?
A: If I am what you just called me, that makes me your mirror image.

central district. Corporates being notoriously paranoid about their blood purity, SPEC investors thought it a natural choice to shut down the “inner city” schools attended by “racial enemies.” like the New Africans. They haven’t yet put this abandoned elementary school on the speculative market yet, so Charlie and Desiree used their powers to call squat and bring in thirty-odd feminists, anarchists, and street kids to camp and train. They wait alongside their nameless daughter, kid sister Kira, and Catalina the K9, for thirteen nudefighters to arrive: Shira, Jennifer, Polly, Daisy, Marina, and the girl with the violet eyes from Team Bremelo; Brandi and Arisa of the Slasher Hunters; hoverboard racers Akimi, Liz, and Radica; Melody, and Elle, who throws herself screaming and sobbing into Kira’s waiting arms to hop around together and kiss her. She wipes away happy tears and says, “You’ve never met each other so, this is your aunt Kira, and this is your niece Melody. Be good to each other ’cuz I love you both.” She pulls Kira and Melody into each other’s embrace so they can kiss.

Morning exercises: run a quarter-mile around the track, wushu stretches, and then the tough exercises. One- and two-armed pushups and pullups; squats, lunges, twists, and crunches; the taisou conditioning system their nameless warrior learned from the Iga ninja and the related systems Jennifer and Daisy learned from combat sambo and tae kwon do. The workout exhausts the feminists. Liz, speaking for them, points at Elle and Melody. “They’re only twelve! How come they can handle it and we can’t?”

“You aren’t doing enough of it,” says Melody.

“Keep it up and never give up,” says Elle, “and you’ll be true warriors like us.” She flexes her arm and winks. The feminists groan at the sight of her biceps.

Sure enough, two shirtless muscleboys in ski masks attempt an attack. Elle calls “I got ’em!” She leaps to take a wooden katana, rolls toward them, pops up into fighting stance.

They laugh. “Ha! naked little girl!” one mocks. “We been fighting for years!”

“Me? Seven years! A woman can never defend herself enough.” Elle hits his knees to sever his tendons, and he falls back; the other guards his face, she crushes his man-weapon before shattering his jaw and sending him flying back. As the awed feminists watch on, she knocks out the first goon with a casual blow to the head. They rush in, pick up the thugs, and carry him to the trash bin.

Q: Why’s the rabble stupid enough to rebel against God-given authority? Someone has to rule!
A: If you have such faith in the virtue of tyranny, why aren’t you beating your wife?

Nameless Reporter: The people of Cascadia are out in force on Election Day, and they intend to vote out CPMC.
Brinkman: I’d sooner sell out to Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited!

In every city and town throughout Cascadia, the streets are full and all work has ceased. The US Police Force flies in Admiral Currie’s sound cannons on Blackhawks, SeaHawks, and Apaches to try to stop them. The pirate broadcasters’ sound trucks are rolling out to counter them. COPCO sends roboagents, the USPF sends Mech Knights, the Tech Knights send drones, the Conservative Revolutionary Party sends its most fanatical militants.

The battle spreads even to dreamspace, where the American Crusader faces down a chaos with angel wings. “Spanner! You cannot prevail against the power of God, Good, authority, and the Law. It is not possible.”

The angel of chaos replies in three voices: “We don’t need to. You have already lost.” He laughs, splits into three female forms (white phantom, black phantom, neon silhouette), and fades, taking the clouds with him and leaving the Crusader alone in darkness.

Below: the strikers march. Above: drones, mechs, and battle copters block the sky. Inside: Shira, Jennifer, Elle, and the girl with the violet eyes make violent passionate four-way love believing it’s the last moment of their lives. Outside, the pirate-TV sound cannon trucks take their positions and the Rockers mount the platforms.

Q: Why do you hate America?
A: I look at you “Real Americans,” and the rest is easy.

And above the city of Seattle, the American Crusader hovers between heaven and earth, waiting for the moment to deliver divine vengeance unto man.

Spanner: CPMC was built on a foundation of quicksand. Now it’s collapsing. But don’t allow yourselves to become complacent. You’ll have to dance between falling stones if you don’t want to get crushed.

on to the next... →

Back to Chapter 23 index...
Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

[Revision 4 Final, 4/15/13: Scenes heavily revised, condensed, deleted, and added to fit Final Revision continuity. The entire title sequence of 23.2 R2, “Spanner Q&A,” is now “Ask Spanner” here. Original R2 section title: “Settle for Nothing.”]

Spanner Chapter 22: There Is No Law (Final Revision)

2013-04-14T16:49:00.000-07:00

← Chapter 21

Chaos Angel Spanner — Book 1: Rock City Blues
Chapter 22: There Is No Law (Final Revision)

Bangor High School has been all but destroyed by its own leaders. The Seattle Public Education Corporation is collapsing. Its chairman is dead. The anti-bullying rally that Peace Committee leader and devout pacifist Karen Kubota transforms into a districtwide student strike against SPEC, quickly joined by the teachers whose Guild rules forbid them to strike.

But rebellious lovers Shira, Jennifer, and the girl with the violet eyes know what even the Student Union and the dissident rank-and-file teachers don’t: this is no mere strike against a predatory corporation, but the beginning of the Populist revolution against the aristocratic Conservative Revolution and everything it stands for — including its eugenics-oriented moralism. Their love, they realize, is itself a weapon against the System. Shira’s sister Desiree joins their love revolution, abandons her superhero costume, takes her own nameless daughter as her lover, and does battle with both her mother and mortal enemy Drusilla and the entire privatized COPCO police force — just as its Syndicate moles go to war within the company, in effect repealing the Law. The girl with the violet eyes duels her unwanted Corporate suitor Oliver on live television, Lord Richard Becket, the World Patriarch himself, is drawn in, Spanner makes his spectacular return in unexpected form...

And the strike of students and teachers against SPEC balloons into a full-blown general strike.

The time of reckoning has come at last.

Table of Contents:

Interlude 13: This Is Not America (April 5, 2013)
Teenage Resistance (October 14, 2011, Final Revision 4/8/13)
Lovecrime Conspiracy (October 15, 2011, Final Revision 4/9/13)
Fight the Power (October 16, 2011, Final Revision 4/10/13)
Massive Retaliation (October 17, 2011, Final Revision 4/11/13)
Total Police Breakdown (October 18, 2011, Final Revision 4/12/13)
The Naked Killers (October 19, 2011, Final Revision 4/13/13)

The Intro ends: Chaos theory states that perfect foreknowledge of the development of a system is impossible, and that the slightest change in one variable changes the future of the system completely... In the Fourth Revision, I have made so many changes and additions to the Second and Third Revisions that the new Chapter 22 is almost unrecognizable from the R2 original. The general plan may be the same, but the specific outcome is different. I have also integrated the stylistic experiments of the R4 Interludes directly into the text of the main story.

Heavily revised and edited, with many old scenes and threads deleted and new ones added, to fit Final Revision continuity and provide a cliffhanger ending that leads into Chapter 23. Original Revision 2 section titles: “Contradiction Is Truth” (22.1), “Working for the Crackdown” (22.2), “Brinkmanship” (22.3), “Bring the Hammer Down” (22.4), “The Spanner Show” (22.5), “The Naked Killer” (singular; 22.6). There is no Third Revision version; the ending is new to the Fourth Revision.

Because the First Revision version was never completed nor posted, the original introduction is that to the Second Revision and there are no R2 (or R3) revision notes. The R2 introduction:

The first edition of Spanner Book 1 never got this far. Why? I left these two final chapters half in outline, that’s why. The plot had collapsed by this point; such things tend to happen in a first draft. Now, for the first time ever, exclusively for the second edition, I bring you Chapter 22.

Principal Principal and Vice Principal Falconer are dead. So are Admiral and Mrs Fleer, leaving the Fleer sisters orphaned. Bart Green is a cripple; Team Valiant has been destroyed. Spanner has exposed Mayor Pete Ross and Shepherd Luke Everson as complete and utter fools. Their failure to violently suppress the peaceful protest at Bremerton High School now allows the demonstrations to spread to every single junior high, high, and technical school in the Metropolitan Seattle School District, and from there to every single metropolitan school district in the State of Cascadia. At long last, the Populist majority have thrown their puppet oppressors, the Fearsome Foursome, the long dreaded Public Challenge, and they have two big demands: a free election, and the end of Tournament. The Law, needless to say, responds with lawlessness.

As the crisis snowballs, Team Bremelo race to save Karen from a hitman, the Wrecking Krewe initiate a full-scale Anonymous strike on AT&T and the FCC, the remnants of Valiant and Pretty Teams plot their revenge, Shira flies one last delivery, and Leila takes advantage of the chaos to put an end to the arranged marriage her hated grandfather, the leader of the Foursome, forced her into — with a final Challenge of her own, which only one can survive! And at long last, Spanner makes his first public appearance since the TrumpCity disaster on Revolution Day!

Chapter 23 →

Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

Spanner 22.6: The Naked Killers

2013-04-13T17:00:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 22: There Is No Law
Part 6: The Naked Killers (Final Revision)

copco seattle. The executive helicopter with the COPCO logo lands on the roof. Armed and armoured bodyguards dressed MIB rush out, followed by the core company executives and finally company CEO Brendan Sparks. Jack Becket meets him and salutes. “What is the meaning of this, Becket?”

“Your extra hires just destroyed my section!”

“Your hires!”

“Your orders!”

Suddenly a hard Repulse knocks the one-eyed man back; Desiree uncloaks between him and the CEO, her still nude body crackling with electricity. The bodyguards pull their guns on her. Sparks takes out two thirty-shot Berettas and shoots at her screaming. Repulsed bullets send the bodyguards into a death ballet around him. At last he runs out of bullets. He throws the pistols to either side and prepares to fight.

She slips into his arms, wraps him up in hers, plants her lips onto his; he tries to struggle out, but she's surprisingly strong for a woman — a million volts escape from her body into his, he twitches and smokes, his clothes catch fire, he goes dead still, the once living body now carbonized and crumbling in her arms—

Jack runs away from his deadly cousin as fast as he can in a panic. He swears he can hear her laugh.

ABCNN: COPCO CEO Brendan Sparks has just been assassinated!
QVCBS: The rogue superheroine Livewire electrocuted him in the nude!
ESPNBC: We have exclusive video!

pioneer square. Oliver tries to slash his way through strikers, terrorist, Syndicates, and whores with his shovel. Civilians scramble out of his way. Terrorists and gangsters shoot; he slings his shovel over his shoulder, whips out his twin pistols, and shoots back like the Pistol Knight he is; the attackers flee his wrath.

He walks through the chaos toward the rendezvous. He mutters, “What the fuck does that bitch want?” He does not see a single COPCO agent the whole way; any roboagents are already scrap. He passes the burning wreck of a USPF mech. “Flyboys. Hmph.”

The rendezvous is in a back alley. Figures. He walks in—

and is confronted by cameras, the severed heads of four CUNT militants, ten shrunken heads once attached to the body of Bunny Strakeljahn—

and the girl with the violet eyes, standing nude among them wearing Honky-gangsterskin fighting boots and gloves and a kunoichi facemask black as her hair which he can yet see her smile through. Her naked katana has already tasted blood.

“Leila.”

Her smile disappears. “No.”

downtown bremerton. The bag comes off her head. Her hat is missing. She discovers herself in not some torture room or prison camp, but in the lobby of the forty-story skyscraper Roger Steele Becket built as the headquarters of Dictel Corporation. Standing before her superheroically, framed by the combined Dictel circle-D and Yoyodyne pyramid logos, dominating the room like a living god yet looking every bit his eighty-one years, the late King’s eldest son: Prince William Richard Astor Cromwell-Becket of Dictel, Incorporated: Duke of Acadia, President of the World Bank, Chairman of the United Corporations, Chairman Emeritus of Dictel Corporation and Yoyodyne Defense Systems, Grand Master of the Illuminati and of the Dragon Court, the Scarab eighth of his lineage. The World Patriarch his gold-laced black business suit like a High Templar mantle, the Sign of the Dollar sparkling on his royal-purple tie, purple-lined royal cape fluttering in the artificial wind. An unkempt leonine silver mane crowns the weathered yet still powerful face. Standing to either side of him: his teenage grandniece Princess Deborah Becket in her black-and-silver Bangor High School sailor-suit girl’s uniform and armed with sniper rifle and two holstered automatic pistols, and the Intellectual Property Defender named Roland Leggett; around them, Dictel Security agents pointing their pistols at her. Uncle and niece bear the Dragonite signet. Lord Richard Becket directs a hard piercing stare at her with those cold blue eyes. He smiles with satisfaction at the spunky defiance of his catch, this nudefighter in fighting stance, so contemptuous of costume. At last, he speaks. “We meet at last... Shira Thomas.”

She keeps her eyes on him unblinking. Her expression shifts into that look. “Just so you know, I’m not what you expect.”

“Your famous misdirections.”

“Plan Z,” says Debbie. He shushes her; she turns away in shame.

“So you defy me, and still consider yourself a hero? You have no idea what a hero is. Allow me to educate you.” His triumphant smile reveals his sharp white teeth.

Amanda: Look! CPMC’s stock price is actually rising!
Financial Analyst: Engaged investors, including President Goldman Sachs & Company, are showing their solidarity by boosting CPMC stock, even as the now headless COPCO’s stock price collapses.
Field Reporter: But the strikers still refuse to return to work until CPMC’s removed from office!
Amanda: This is not good.

interstate 5. The sound of Viking metal announces their presence. Corrupt trucking companies transport KCUF’s new sound cannons in a convoy up the expressway. Soon they will reach the city to fulfill their purpose, and the battle will be joined.

debBot: What a Man! So vicious! ♥
daveBot: And she’s too hot to handle! ♥
Both: And one of them dies tonight!
daveBot: It’s about to begin!
debBot: It’s gonna get bloody! ♫

pioneer square. “So you’re the naked killer,” snarls Oliver Thorwald, Pistol Knight.

“I’m here to kill you,” says the naked killer before him, the cruel young beauty who has no name. “It’s your way of divorce.”

“You can’t kill me. You’re only a girl.”

“You’ve still got backup. I let my clones die so I could savor nothingness and the fear of death.”

They stare at each other. The cameras stare at them. The entranced television audience stare through the cameras at this unwilling couple, Corporate warrior and nameless rebel princess, determined to break up by duel to the death.

He spins his shovel. She positions her katana. They care only about killing each other. Rage supercharges his blood with superhuman enough strength to smash holes in the walls with his bare fist. She is utterly calm, yet her desire to kill him is so pure that it charges her body with erotic energy so intense it extinguishes any remaining hatred. They take no notice of the thickening cloud of tear gas. They care only about the duel.

He holds his shovel like a boar-slaying mighty spear and charges her screaming. It begins.

dictel tower. She defiantly fixes the Cartel Chairman with that look. “I see you're pleased with yourself.”

Richard Becket studies the muscular lithe body: such animal grace, such defiance. “You certainly are different from the others, Shira Thomas.”

She continues to regard him warily. “I’m not a helpless victim dying for your sovereign will and pleasure.”

He laughs. “What spunk! You are truly a heroine worthy of being conquered by heroes.”

Her smile disappears. “A hero defeated is a hero destroyed. Remember Barton Green?”

“Ah, yes. So is a hero who betrays his nature.”

“The strike.”

He puffs his cigar and dramatically flourishes it. “A futile little protest of unheroic little people in denial. Are they friends of yours? They deny that man is nothing but a waystation toward something far greater — the birth of the gods! We are here, our destiny is at hand, to conquer and rule the infinite kingdom of space! They have served their purpose. Their time is long past over. And yet you have pity for them? Come on, Miss Thomas. You’re above all that.”

She sighs. “So petty, these heroic Egos. The ancients had you pegged. You gods haven’t changed a bit except for the costumes. The ‘little monkeys’ are evolving right past you, and you can’t handle it.”

“So you’re determined to die with them? I shall help you.”

“You assume.” That look returns. “Speaking of which, I’m not Shira.”

“Hmph! Another little misdirection I see through.”

“She’s in Seattle. Trace her.” The cockeyed smirk grows into a beautiful grin.

He begins his Trace smugly confident. His face takes a puzzled look — realization drains his face of blood, his eyes go wide with horror — “You! You were dead! I killed you myself!” He reaches out; his staff of power flies into his hand.

The atmosphere begins to distort. Leggett raises his Colt at Kira Thomas and fires. Debbie screams.

daveBot: The divorce is on!
debBot: A real Corporate divorce, way gruesome and hella sexy! ♥
daveBot: May the best spouse...
Both: ...survive!

pioneer square. Shovel versus sword: he thrusts and slashes; she parries and evades with speed and stealth. He tries to force the shovel blade right into her head; she liquidly shifts position, catches the handle, lets the blade come down so hard it sparks on the concrete, then shifts position again so he spears the hard wall with his head. He rolls, sprawls, grabs his head; she kicks his testicles hard enough to crush them. He convulses and screams in pain.

Suddenly, he pops back up, roars and flails like a rabid beast, charges her once more. Before he can bring the shovel down, she throws herself into him with a knee blow that crushes several ribs and punctures a lung. He spins uncontrollably till he hits a wall face first, letting his shovel drop this time. He ignores the pain. He rolls along the wall. He tastes his own blood. She is looking at him, holding the katana in her left hand, gesturing him to come with her right.

He rolls forward, picks up the shovel, leaps to his feet bringing it down toward her head—

she slices it in two, diagonally. The shovel head clatters uselessly away. He throws the headless handle away.

He whips out his holstered Colts — he shoots—

but she is gone.

Amanda: The streets are full of protesters again!
Field Reporter: They’re holding signs and chanting slogans demanding the ouster of CPMC!
Financial Analyst: This is turning into a major public relations disaster for CPMC.
Amanda: This is not good.

dictel tower. Lord Becket chants in ancient Egyptian to build up the power of his staff. Kira projects a reality distortion field powerful enough to change the path of ordinary projectiles, but Leggett’s slow bullet takes its slow implacable path toward her. Debbie remembers Shira’s sweet kiss that melted her heart. Kira is her twin sister.

She shoots the bullet out of the air. Leggett screams in rage.

They slip behind the Scarab to duel. He whips out both pistols and empties their clips. She tosses aside her rifle, whips out both her pistols, and shoots down every slow bullet.

Then Lord Becket unleashes his blast. Debbie, Leggett, and all the bodyguards run for their lives. Kira’s field deflects the blast into the tower’s supports to sever them — then she vanishes laughing, and the Scarab screams.

black tower. Half-transformed, Brinkman signals his readiness to tear Will Becket apart. “So you’re gonna nuke your own realm if the mudbloods keep getting uppity? I’ll be ruined! My stock will be worthless!”

Will calmly smokes his cigar. “What foolishness are you getting at this time, cousin?”

“I’ve entered negotiations with Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited to acquire CPMC.”

A gun cocks. Everson screams, “Walter! Are you insane?”

“You too, Luke? If either of you destroy the value of my company’s property by, well, destroying the property, you’ll be starting an international incident. Do you still want to start a nuclear war with China? Do you?”

“Very well, then,” says Will. “I’ll see you when you’re in Chinese debt slavery.” He tries to leave, but Everson blocks him. “Scofield wants you dead, Shepherd. From which I deduce, you in turn killed Tremayne, not ‘Rebel Styles’ but you.”

Everson grimaces. “He was corrupt! I had righteous replacements for the others lined up. I had a plan to submit the Consortium under my dominion! I was reclaiming this commonist hell for Jesus America! But then ‘Rebel Styles’ turned real! Don’t tell me she’s not behind this!”

“And now she’s not. One cannot help but admire a Player who withdraws from the game and still wins. And now, if you’ll excuse me...” The elevator opens for him. He walks past Everson into it. The sliding doors close, and he is gone.

pioneer square. Oliver hunts down the girl with no name. Strikers flee. Terrorists attack and get shovel-Slashed for their trouble. Ecstatic serial-killer fangirls beg him to kill them; his shovel grants them their wish. But today he finds no joy in his favorite former pleasure, only cruel necessity.

“Leila!” he cries out. No answer, not even a laugh. He begins to fear. He tries to taunt. In rage he howls: “Leeeeeee-laaaa!” No mocking laugh, no offended groan, not even a breath. “Come back and die, you chickenshit traitor bitch! Leela Leela Leela Leee-laaa!” He thinks she’s skipped out on their duel. Not once does he notice she’s been stalking him closely the whole time.

Someone impales him through the chest from behind. He looks down — his own broken shovel handle?

Malicious glee in those beautiful violet eyes. She purrs, “Shouldn’t have thrown it away, Ollie. What you leave behind can come back to bite.” She pulls the shovel handle out of his chest.

His vision blurs. He knows his consciousness will soon blink out. He sees the cameras staring at him as he spins in terminal vertigo. The last thing Oliver Patrick Thorwald of Biotron, Incorporated, Pistol Knight, says before he falls to the pavement dead: “Fuck... you...”

downtown bremerton. Torn at the root by the Scarab’s blast, the Dictel Tower begins to tilt as the lobby is obliterated in a deafening fireball. Observers in its line of sight watch paralyzed with trepidation. All traffic and pedestrians flee the area in panic. Air-raid sirens on the naval base command evacuation.

For an uncomfortable time the dying giant leans like the tower of Pisa. Then its fall begins, at first slowly. Its death creates an abstract symphony of bending snapping metal and shattering glass. Its body disintegrates as it descends.

Bremerton’s one true skyscraper, the brainchild of Roger Becket, crashes into the base, demolishing two factories, raising a massive cloud of dust that consumes all downtown and the base. Like its creator, the colossus has fallen. And the only thing Richard Becket can hear is a woman returned from the dead, her laugh of triumph filling the whole world, the laugh of Kira Amanda Thomas.

Amanda: ESPNBC News has just received official word. Cascadian labor representatives have confirmed that the general strike now paralyzing Seattle will indeed be expanded statewide.

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Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

[Revision 4 Final, 4/13/13: The original title sequence (the Oliver vs. nameless girl duel) heavily revised and condensed with a new ending for Final Revision continuity; new scenes added. Original R2 title: “The Naked Killer” (singular).]

Spanner 22.5: Total Police Breakdown

2013-04-12T17:00:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 22: There Is No Law
Part 5: Total Police Breakdown (Final Revision)

foot ferry terminal. Almost as soon as the nudefighters get on the pier, there’s Lefty Lucy approaches already prepared to paint. She gives Shira a lusty kiss, but this time Shira waves her off. “No paint this time, thanks.”

“What, y’all ain’t Stylin’?”

Jennifer puts an affectionate arm around her. “What, during a strike? Not when the Slashers are out in force.” She smiles at Brandi and Arisa; they wink at Lucy.

The girl with the violet eyes embraces Shira from the side and gives Lucy a She’s mine, bitch! smile. Lucy takes a good look at her. “That must be that gorgeous girlfriend you been talkin’ ’bout. Mmmm-mm! she looks delish.”

Jennifer embraces them both. “Come on, we’re a famous couple now.”

Lucy lets go of Shira, puts her hands on Leila’s shoulders, and looks her up and down. “Glad y’all still playin’ for the all-girl team.”

Akimi studies her skeptically. “Guys, can we go now?”

Shira pulls Lucy in to kiss her. “Sorry gotta go ’bye.” The girls follow the other fighters off the pier and into the city.

above the city. Desiree launches herself from the Black Tower’s roof and unleashes an electric field attack at her screaming mother. In her fury Drusilla tries to Repulse it back into her only to have it Repulsed back into any drone, copter, or Mech Knight in range. Desiree flies around, leading the robed priestess on a mid-air wild goose chase, inflaming her rage to irrationality. She spots a surveillance camera — she hovers before it, fully nude, knowing exactly who’s watching, taunting him.

pioneer square. In an alley where only bums he considers beneath lifeforms can observe, Locke Holmes takes a call from... someone. “No... The Chief... Come on, damn it! He’s onto us! He knows!”

He hears a gun cock. His blood goes cold. “Shit!” He throws the phone away and spins around to see his attacker.

The nameless Asian beauty? The ex-agent? So gorgeous in a sweater dress. She points her pistol at him. “I knew he’d play you eventually.”

He grins hatefully at an old enemy. “Fancy meeting you again... Misato Katsuragi.” He launches himself into her; she tries to throw him, then pistol whip him, but he quickly overpowers her.

Spanner: Remember when America used to have cops? Not anymore. The Conservative Revolution replaced them with COPCO, a private company for hire. Conservatives have a hopeless infatuation with the idea of private government agencies. All it does is make them much more corruptible.
The cops who arrest you may not even be cops at all. They could be gangsters impersonating cops. They could be gangsters working as cops. They could be Chinese spies out to shanghai you. They could be serial killers with a badge. Chances are you won’t even make it to a Dictel Corrections-owned jail.
Attention, COPCO agents. Are you sure your fellow agents aren’t impostors out to get you?

Nameless Reporter: Reports are coming in from various cities showing COPCO agents accepting bribes from known figures of the Syndicates...
COPCO CEO Sparks: There are rumors going around that this company has been infiltrated by crime syndicates. They are rumors. There are no Syndicate moles in this company.
COPCO Chief Becket: There are no Mob moles in this company! How many times do I have to [censored]ing repeat it?

ABCNN: COPCO CEO Brendan Sparks has denied any infiltration by Mob agents—
QVCBS: COPCO CEO denies any moles in the company—
ESPNBC: CEO Sparks is denying that there are any Syndicate moles—
Sun: COPCO spokesmen deny—
Fox: COPCO has issued an official denial—

underground city. Right- and left-wing terrorists brawl in the covered pedestrian streets between nightclubs. Shira, Jennifer, and the girl with the violet eyes find themselves forced to fight some off from both sides; but all the brawlers avoid Jane Dead. The naked blue headless DeadBot is the nudefighters’ ticket. They follow their least favorite music. The hate metal leads them to the techGothic.

They dramatically throw open the double doors. What they see appalls them. Jennifer keeps her glasses up. “Boosted and shirtless, boxers high, jeans low, gangster tats all over...”

The girl laughs. “A bloody lout convention. Figures.”

“And the way they’re attacking those bots,” says Shira.

They look at each other. They nod together. “CUNT.”

That look contains a plan. “Let the gangsterskin harvest begin.” Shira disappears into the club. Jennifer and the girl look at each other, then Jane.

Without them noticing, Shira steals spray cans of female pheromones from storage and sprays them on all the sexbots and DeadBots. These are not conscious men: she knows this will work. Soon the militants are overcome by lust and gang-rape the gynoids in irrational fury. One trojan later, the gynoids crush the man weapons and rip them off their bodies. Castrated man-terrorists scream in rage, horror, and humilation; in absolute panic they run around the club bleeding like decapitated chickens. She returns to her lovers with a wicked grin. “He’s gotta shit his pants now.”

Jennifer winks. “I want video.”

They hear a pistol cock behind them. They turn to see club owner George Hassan. “Well! Shoulda figured you were Old Shithead’s piss partner.”

“Golden Dawn, even?”

“Women!” he spits. “Always out to get—”

“Your precious bodily fluids, I get it.”

“Stavros!” He points the gun at Shira. Jane slips around him, leaps on his back, slips her arms around his neck, and squeezes with robot strength. He tries to pry her arms off to no avail. His eyes and tongue pop out of his head. Finally she lets go; he falls gargling to her feet dead. Behind them, his brutal Syndicate bouncer Stavros runs toward the door naked, screaming his hatred of Woman at the top of his lungs before he bleeds out between the legs.

copco seattle. Jack Becket leaps out of his seat the moment he sees his hated cousin Desiree on screen. “What the fuck is she doing?”

Martin hisses. “Pretty cousin Desiree, it seems, has decided to spit in our faces.”

Litton chuckles. “I know exactly how to bring that bitch down.”

underground city. They walk back toward the stairway to the city above along a skylit street littered with the battered bodies of unconscious men to the right and left when who blocks their path but a Corporate man and woman. In mock surprise the girls cry out together, “Oh my god it’s John Nike!”

They look down at her unclothed body. The woman frowns. The man grins. “Girls, you be mad Stylin’ tonight!”

Jennifer and the girl with no name cross their arms and glare at them. “You caught us at the worst possible time,” says Jennifer.

“We’re in no mood to deal,” says the girl.

Shira gives them that look. “You want me to work long hours to deceive people who can’t work, to sell gratuitous baubles to people who can’t buy.”

“It’s true, the opportunity to work oneself to death has become a coveted status symbol these days. Just ask Peter Ross.” The headhunters look at each other.

“Also long dead is Rock ’N’ Roll, whose corpse has been plastinated and is constantly being reanimated by multiple producers, writers, and fashion designers at a time and performed by acts engineered to make tweens or carboys or gay bitch-cultists succumb to fangirlism and give up their money like a pagan offering. It’s gotten disturbingly uncanny-valley.”

“Stylism’s next. Pretty City’s bound to IP-protect it sooner or later. Besides, nudism deprives the loathsome Molotov Twins of their ill-gained profits, to which I say good riddance.”

“There’s one more problem,” Jennifer adds. “Your ‘sweet science’ is coming up against some hard limits imposed by the facts of economics. The rate of profit is collapsing faster than ever, like a trash compactor’s walls about to crush your industry. Wages are unaffordable now, slaves have to be fed, and even robots have maintenance costs. The Revolution was intended to force the rate of profit back up by any means necessary. It’s already failed.”

“So,” says Shira, ”no.”

John cocks an eyebrow. “No? What do you mean by no?”

“With what you know,” the woman says, “you could strike a fortune beyond your wildest dreams.”

Shira’s mocking smile disappears, leaving just a hard stare. “Tell me something I don’t know.” The nudefighters and their headless DeadBot leave; the headhunters can only stare. The woman jealously nudges John.

above the city. Holoprojectors across the city, left over from the Seattle Incident and still used for advertising, fill the sky with ghostly Michelin Men. Desiree begins to panic; but when she sees her mother approaching to fire a cheap shot, she quickly regains control of herself. She quickly flies out of Drusilla’s range, focuses on the projectors, and shorts them all out each with a single small spark. The Michelin Men disappear all at once. She catches her breath and returns to face Drusilla.

copco seattle. Litton stares at the monitors in disbelief. “Nobody could have done that.”

“Except another superhero,” Jack snarls. “Meet Livewire III, live without a costume.”

pioneer square. The nudefighters and their DeadBot open the door to the city only to find themselves facing down the gun of Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited’s Newtype hunter Toni Wong. “You were right to reject those petty marketing fools,” she says, ”in favor of our glorious offer.”

Shira shoots her that look. “You mean sell out and kowtow to the Eight Immortal and Forty-Four Exalted Houses of Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited? You’re as bad as the Beckets.”

“You’ll ‘shanghai’ us over your dead body,” says the nameless girl. ”Go back to Shanghai, agent, or I’ll send you back.”

Jennifer glares at Toni. “You again? Did you know she’s selling your spies disinformation?”

Shira grins. “The Eight Immortal and Forty-Four Exalted Houses of China, or the One Imperial House of America? A rock or a hard place, which should I choose?”

Reiko Matsumoto the miko cocks her pistol behind Toni’s head. “My friend and her lovers will not sell out. You will go away and leave them alone.”

“Lovers,” Toni hisses.

Shira tilts her head. “Sounds dysgenic, eh?”

At that moment Daisy, Brandi, Akimi, Arisa, and Polly arrive, nude like their friends, geared up and armed with their special weapons. Reiko lowers her gun. Toni glowers at the newcomers, silently gives up, and runs away. Shira thanks Reiko silently. Reiko turns and winks at Daisy. Then she leaves.

Shira says, “Let’s go!” Together the nudefighters leave the girl with the violet eyes behind.

Amanda: COPCO employees marching outside the Public Safety Building, protesting persistent rumors that they’ve been targeted for takeover by the Syndicates...
CEO Sparks: (waves arms) This is un-American! I can’t let those thugs betray Our Nation to the Chinks! I’ll shoot ’em all myself if I have to!
Nameless Reporter: (over the Seattle Public Safety Building) Breaking news: Shots have been fired at COPCO Seattle as part of a suspected war between Syndicates known to have infiltrated the company. New reports from the New York Stock Exchange in BloombergCity™ say Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited is taking advantage of the chaos to extend its hostile takeover bid to COPCO.
Jack: Our chief investigator is on the — what the [censored]? Him too? [censored]!

back alley. Cop versus cop. He rapes her viciously. She fights him like a crazed animal, clawing at his eyes, biting anything that comes near, hurts him as hard as she can. The pain only enrages him into ever more irrational fury.

above the city. At last, Desiree stops directly above the Black Tower. She holds out her arms, shifts her attention elsewhere, and hovers. Drusilla concludes that she has an easy shot and rises into position to destroy her daughter forever.

Suddenly all the war machines in the sky explode in a series of fireballs above the city. Drusilla looks around in shock. They burn in the sky, the fires quickly dissipate into smoke, and then the sky is clear. She looks back at her daughter, younger and stronger and now more powerful, staring at her, focusing her power on her — in a panic Drusilla flies away with a flourish of fluttering robes.

Desiree descends to rejoin her own daughter, her girl with no name. They kiss long and passionately. She gives the girl a questioning look. The girl nods happily. They begin to make love on the roof in defiance of Echelon’s paranoid eye.

Fox: It’s a war out there!
Sun: Cops are battling cops at COPCO Seattle!
ABCNN: Reports are beginning to come in of serious infiltration into the law enforcement company.
QVCBS: There’s no way of knowing which is a cop and which is not.
ESPNBC: And my evil clone’s watching all of it as it happens! (scornfully) Just look at the [censored] gloat.

capitol hill. At a Seattle Central Community College campus crowded with strikers and radicals, the nudefighters find the now naked feminists painting slogans on their bodies. Shira throws water on them. “What the fuck you guys doing? Damn it, we’re on strike! Haven’t you people ever worked a job before, or are y’all just sorority girls playing radical on daddy’s trust fund? Didn’t you ever get fired, cheated or molested by Corporate predators only out for profit and glory? Cut the bourgeois radical crap for once! The Party are bourgeois radicals!”

Jennifer interrupts them before they can yell back. “Never forget we women are the most exploited workers. Divide and conquer’s the traditional Corporate strategy.”

“Which side are y’all on, ladies?”

They try to yell back, but Jennifer whistles to shut them up. “Why do we fight naked? Girls, it goes beyond topfree rights or Freikörperkultur. Nudity, you see, is the antithesis of costume. The Party determine their hierarchy by costume, with the superheroes standing above all. We reject costume to affirm our equality and stand together as our ordinary, unspecial selves. This is the way of nudefighting! Now will you get those greasepaint costumes off your bodies and nudefight?”

The painted radicals stare at the sweaty bare-skinned nudefighters. They look amongst each other. One by one they come to agree. They look for soap and wash the slogans off.

naval base bremerton. They arrive by train. Cranes lift them from their cars onto the deck of the aircraft carrier USS George W. Bush. Now Admiral Currie surveys the sound cannons massed upon the deck with satisfaction. “This’ll teach you monkeys a lesson,” he exults. “You want heavy metal? Let’s rock!”

Amanda: What’s this? New reports are coming in that COPCO is calling in agents, abandoning strategic locations throughout Seattle to the radicals!
Jack: My hands are tied, [censored] it! We gotta take care of the threat at home first!
CEO Sparks: We’re sending in more outside agents to regain control of the situation.
Drusilla: Johnny, you fool!
Nameless Reporter: COPCO Seattle has collapsed!

On all channels, the strikers swarm back into the now cop-free streets, battle to take back the streets from terrorist factions and Syndicates using weapons the agents left behind, until at last they reclaim the streets and the general strike resumes.

pioneer square. Holmes lies on the pavement bleeding and cursing. The nameless female ex-agent he calls Misato Katsuragi calmly puts her sweater dress back on, dons her shoulder holster and puts back her gun, and picks up her phone.

She calls Shira. Once she knows, so will the world.

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Back to Chapter 22 index...
Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

[Revision 4 Final, 4/12/13: Contains new scenes plus older ones heavily revised to fit Final Revision continuity and for plot reasons. The title story thread originally an entire section of Chapter 19 R2. Original R2 title: “The Spanner Show” (now very much irrelevant).]

Spanner 22.4: Massive Retaliation

2013-04-11T17:01:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 22: There Is No Law
Part 4: Massive Retaliation (Final Revision)

3 november 2014.
Monday, the first work day of the week. The day before the election all Conservative Revolutionaries want to prevent. What started as a high-school pep rally for conscience-ridden teenagers in a dying military-industrial suburb escalated into the demands of a hundred thousand teenagers across the city for student tuition refunds that brought SPEC to bankruptcy. Their teachers led other unionized workers to strike against their own Guilds demanding control over their own dues. Workers without Guilds formed strike committees to demand living wages and health benefits.

Now the business of the city has been paralyzed by a citywide general strike which threatens to go statewide. The Party, the Consortium, the Fearsome Foursome, and even Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited are forced to confront their worst fear.

They refuse to give in. They refuse to shut up about it.

Currie: (severely miffed) Are you people mad? All you’re doing is bringing back the spectre of Communism that America fought against for over a century! American dominion saved Western Civilization from certain destruction! And now you want to raise the corpse of Joe Stalin? Try it, and we’ll destroy you.
Drusilla: (archly) Are the little people rebelling against the sacred dominion of enlightened leaders? (shrieks) They rebel against God himself! (grimly) We may have to propose a final solution to their impiety.
Brinkman: (in costume as the Nightwolf II of the Liberators) Disobedient subjects of of the People’s Collective of Cascadia. You have rejected righteousness and truth for the last time. You think you can devour your betters by collectivist means. But you are creatures of Original Sin, Takers mooching off the virtuous Makers like parasites eating a dying lion alive.
Your immortal souls cry out for a hero. We liberated you from the hell of politics in order to restore the righteous dominion of heroes, yet you reject us. You must accept us, the American Liberators, as your heroes. If you do not follow heroes, your Sin Nature will lead you to follow (shows copy of The Black Book of Communism) villains.
There is no other choice. Follow your heroes, or we the heroes shall be forced to treat you as villains.
Everson: This is not a so-called strike. The little people are incapable of such a thing. It is Spiritual Warfare, Satan’s revolt against God’s eternal dominion. It is Good versus Evil, God versus Satan, righteousness versus depravity. Our Nation’s God-given mission to bring salvation to the world and the infinite kingdom of space is in jeopardy. We liberated America from the commonist dictatorship of Satan. We may be forced to restore the dominion of God — by force.
Jack Becket: Economic terrorism’s even worse than political terrorism! Keep destroying the economy that makes America great, and we’ll have to put you down like the terrorists you are: with righteous violence!

The working masses refuse to back down. A pep talk:

Hope: American tradition has always put its hopes in the power of one standing alone against the universe, the knight in shining armour charging in on his white horse. But every engineer knows that if the one cable breaks, the whole bridge falls down. Many small cables wrapped together are stronger than a single large cable the same size.
People are the same way. Alone, we are vulnerable and weak; together we are strong. The fall of one will not break the many. Our strength comes from not leadership but solidarity. If we keep our courage and our faith in one another and our ideals, reason and justice will prevail.

The immovable object. The irresistible force.

Stalemate.

east tacoma. In the morning when it’s closed, Shane and Oz take the delivery behind Loco Moloko in the parking lot. Leonid Stroman looks at them skeptically. “Where did you get the money for this?”

“You don’t feel the need to tell us where you get yours,” Shane replies, “and we don’t care anyway.”

Stroman stares up at the sight behind them. “I assume you won’t tell us what you intend to use them for, either.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

“Very well. In any case, gentlemen, they’re yours.”

Twenty-three military sound cannons, surplussed by mercenary corporations fighting Third World wars. And Oswald Bean, blackest of the rodeo cowboys, turns toward Seattle to shake his fist and yell, “Yo, motherfuckers! We bringin’ the real heavy metal!”

dictel tower. They stand before the apparition: the brothers Richard, Tom, and Henry Becket; from the next generation: Martin, Diana, Jack, and Will. Martin is especially uneasy: his grandmother died screaming in his arms. Now the holoprojected shade of their Patriarch, Roger Steele Becket, the late King Patriot I, begins to fade, and he leaves a grim message. “The Plan is falling apart.”

“We have failed, Grandfather,” says Martin.

Jack elbows him. “Be a Man, Marty. Suck it up.”

The ghost delivers a blinding flash to catch their attention. “Sons, there is a reason I am now in this state. Somehow, a single Factor Positive has come into her power, a power equal to that of our enemy Ariel Shield. Even Ariel could not have derailed the Plan like this. This required a Random Factor.”

“Father,” says Henry, ”the Random Factor’s name is Shira Miranda Richter-Thomas. His child, with the power to cloud the future.”

“And she is not alone, Harry,” says Richard. “Her cousin, your stepdaughter, Jennifer Blair, who has the power to see the connections between all things.”

“And these two live in sin with the prophesied one, and all work together against destiny itself.”

The flickering ghost stares down at them. It takes time for him to think: the daemon’s circuits are fading and the construct is decaying. “Henry. You have the power to restore the Plan. But the rest of you must first do away with my murderer’s companions. Only then can she be destroyed and the Plan restored.” The audio begins to crackle out. “I leave the... rest... to you...”

At last he fades away. The boardroom goes dark. Silence. Then as one, the Beckets salute where the Patriarch once was.

penguindrome. One by one they bring the stolen copbots into the garage where Jennifer’s assistants Sana and Harumi stare at her fight-geared but otherwise naked body. Deth Pussy speaks their thoughts. “Yo babe, you really gonna get away with fighting naked?”

She shrugs. “If it’s worked for me all this time, why change. Besides, the Fashion-Industrial Complex won’t get a penny.” She winks.

Together the assistants go, “Ohhhhhh.”

Shira, Kira, and the girl with the violet eyes arrive in the cherry-red Mustang equally intolerant of clothes. Akimi joins them from the studio with the newest MIRV Griffin upgrade, still tickled at getting away without clothes. Harumi stares wide-eyed at her sister’s well-toned body. Akimi rubs her head and says in Japanese, “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t know...” Sana covers Harumi’s eyes, but Jennifer signals her that it’s okay. Sana relents; Harumi smiles, looks down at Jennifer’s body, and gestures her to get back with Shira and their nanashi kunoichi.

Freddy Freakbeak sits enthroned atop Shira’s hat; Kira wears a red Angry Bird plush cap that AEGIS uses to speak through. “COPCO and the USPF plan to use their crack Homeland units against the strike.”

Sana asks, “Isn’t that overkill?”

“Girl, we’re talking panic in the suites,” Shira replies. “Sacred Corporate Egos are in danger of annihilation, so they’re taking spiritual warfare to the next level. Can you compute disruption probabilities?”

“At this level of panic, a near certainty,“ says AEGIS. “But you already sensed this and no doubt have a plan worked out.”

“That’s why we’re here.” She tinkers with one of the copbots. Her expression slowly shifts into that look. “Let’s give ’em something they’ll never expect.”

They put on electrical gloves; the naked techs don white lab coats; all wear AR goggles except for Shira, Kira, and Jennifer. They replace the copbots’ vocal units with sound cannons. They upgrade Slackware, Perl, and Back Orifice packages from the Darknet. They install the new MIRV Griffin botnet plus a Dissociated Press implementation translated from Emacs Lisp into obfuscated Perl and intended for mangling Revolutionary platitudes. Finally, they install a new batch of Windows and iOS malware.

El Kabong and Evil The Cat bring the hoverboards and costumes in a rented truck. Melody comes down to shield the workshop from Echelon’s eyes. The Krewe remove the COPCO uniforms and dress up the bots in identical wrench-equipped Spanner costumes. Time to turn them on.

It takes a few minutes for them to boot up and finish installation. Everybody holds their breath. Shira activates the test script. The Spannerbots stand up.

In perfect unison, they declare, “I am Spanner. And you are... a joke! HA hahahahaaaah!”

The workshop erupts in cheers, howls, high-fives, and dancing hugs.

seattle. The streets are filled with a sea of humanity: workers striking against corporation and Guild alike, carrying the banners of their rank-and-file committees and of their demands; all the Student Unions of the SPEC system withdrawing their tuitions along with their sanction; protesters carrying signs of various causes; random people caught up in the idealistic atmosphere; the various opportunists and fanatics trying to derail the strike to the service of their particular causes.

But the sky begins to darken, and it isn’t from rainclouds...

penguindrome. The garage door opens. Melody begins to strain her power. The Spannerbots start their hoverboards. The Wrecking Krewe and the nudefighters retreat to the KCUF studio. Nick warns, “You know that once Echelon sees ’em launch, this house is toast.”

“Find a new one stat,” says Shira. She assembles everybody at the table. “If you’re wondering why we’re launching ’em now, Admiral Currie’s already launching his drones. Their job’s to lead the Tech Knights on a wild goose chase and infect the new batch of copbots One-Eye just got from Yoyodyne. The bots’ll take the battle to the U.S. Police Force and maybe even infect their robot armour. Now let’s launch!”

The Spannerbots fly out on their hoverboards. Melody hits the garage door opener, stops using her power, and drops to hands and knees to catch her breath. AEGIS sets the transponder signals to maximum power. The Krewe watch the camera signals on the monitors. Soon they approach the Tech Knight drone fleets. The battle has begun.

seattle. The sky above the city goes dark with clouds of Tech Knight drones, Echelon drones, military combat aircraft, and the flying robot armour of the United States Police Force. Party leaders and network talking heads scream archaic Cold War slogans with revolutionary frenzy on every MSM channel, even as Anonymous begin their attack on the media signals. Jack Becket sends armies of COPCO strike agents and copbots to bust up the crowds and beat up the protesting masses. Drusilla leads thousands of Shepherds in fervent death prayers. Mercenary and Syndicate forces eagerly announce their intention to increase their Man Scores by massacring unarmed civilians.

Once they see the extremes to which Corporate power will go to preserve the supremacy of profit, the strikers begin to panic.

Jack Becket: (laughs maniacally) You chattering monkeys think you can turn back the tide of history? All of you are nothing compared to one of us! God and History abandoned you and made us supermen! We’re the future, and you’re history!
Will Becket: (stares grimly, cradling The Black Book of Communism) We cannot tolerate such acts of Communist terrorism. Surrender now, or be destroyed.
Brinkman: Smash those counterrevolutionary mother[censored]s! We can’t have everything America stands for destroyed!
Willa: Boys, boys. If you think just sending in the cavalry will save the day, you’re forgetting your Little Big Horn could happen at any moment.
Henry Becket: (looks up in the sky) Oh. my. God. no—

Up in the sky, the drones sense a group of taunting transponders approaching from the west. The camdrones flock to see: before they short out, crash into each other, or fall into the water, they spot—

Spanner? A whole fleet of him, riding hoverboards, trailing black trenchcoats like capes.

The Tech Knights scream in terror turning to rage.

Every drone in the sky abandons its mission to do battle with the angel of chaos. They find what seems to be his image in multiplicity as if reflected in a compound eye. But the images split up into chaotic flight paths.

Jack: (shocked) Holy [censored]! That’s what happened to my [censored]ing bots? You— (punches his camera)

The USPF Mech Knights fly into the chaos for the opportunity to slay the terrorist and earn the rank of Hero of the Nation. But when they approach mélée range, their mechs’ computers go haywire — they find themselves under massive malware attack from the Spannerbots; the icebreakers weaken their firewalls, the viruses infect their operating systems, Back Orifice inserts trojans, until at last MIRV Griffin reboots them into assimilation. They lose control of their mechs to Spanner’s botnet — they become Spanner — the Mech Knights scream in terror, their own mechs tear some of them apart—

Will: (shakes head sadly, clutching his fin) Flyboys. Always seeking glory above all else.

The infection quickly reaches the COPCO copbots and transforms them into a new army of Spannerbots.

Jack: Nooooooooooooo!
Spanner: (in Votrax voice) Too bad, spaaaaace cadet. ha ha ha ha

As if on cue, the terrorists come out: the Socialist Revolutionary Organization, Earth Revolutionary Front, Black African Revolutionary Front, People’s Occupation Party, Revolutionary Union of Terrorists, the remnants of the Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus, and the black-masked anarcho-terrorists (sic) of the Black Bloc — they smash everything in range, beat up strikers and cops alike, beat each other up, whatever violence their blood tells them is righteous. But—

Spanner: Terrorism is Conservative Revolution. Conservative Revolution is terrorism. No, stinking, difference; not, one, bit.
Karen: (sits up in hospital bed) We were only trying to rally for peace.
Spanner: Kid, some people experience peace as the torments of Hell.
Brinkman: (half transformed to werewolf form, pulls his hair) GRAAAAAAAAA!!!

—the copbots break out into creepy laughs and launch themselves at any terrorist, cop, or Patriot they can find, to beat them into pulp until they are no longer a threat. Then the media assault begins:

Jack Becket copulating with his freakish sexbots
Anson Mobley chumming it up with Leonid Stroman, downing synthemesc-spiked milk, surrounded by whores
COPCO agents gleefully selling themselves out to Syndicate after Syndicate and even Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited

penguindrome. The air-raid siren wails. The truck hauls away the KCUF studio equipment. The studio crew leave in their van. Everybody else leaves with what valuables they have by car or in the Slasher Hunters van. The neighbours evacuate.

The house is empty of squatters by the time it comes. A Predator on a suicide trajectory. Slowly it follows its implacable path. When it reaches the house, it turns vertical, missiles into the house, and explodes.

The neighbourhood is in flames, and the Penguindrome is gone.

copco seattle. The land line rings. Jack picks up the receiver. “What the fu—”

The voice on the other line says, “You have moles.” The call ends.

“What?!”

Locke Holmes enters. “I heard that.”

“Well then, let’s smoke ’em out!”

Holmes salutes. “Yes, sir!”

rich passage. Sparks hangs up as he speeds the hijacked catamaran to Seattle with the entire Team Bremelo on board, nudefighters and all. No one dares interrupt Shira, Jennifer, and the girl with the violet eyes as they make love in the cabin. The KCUF trawler follows on its own slow path behind, ready to broadcast and to hack.

downtown seattle. Desiree and her daughter are already perched nude in the strong wind on the roof of the Black Tower, waiting. They watch the events unfold far below as they wait, Desiree calmly, the girl nervously. At last she comes.

Drusilla rises above the neighbour buildings, rich silk robes billowing in the wind, angry eyes full of injured narcissism. In a goddess’ voice she commands: “Give me back what is mine! I want Lucille now!”

Desiree calmly smiles and says nothing. Her daughter smiles at her. She takes the girl into her arms and shares with her a passionate lover’s kiss in front of their enemy.

Drusilla lets out a rising scream of rage. She unleashes a fireball at her daughter.

Desiree Repulses it back at her — Drusilla barely evades: Desiree’s fierce triumphant grin tells her: I’m your equal now.

on to the next... →

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[Revision 4 Final, revision notes here. Original R2 title: “The Spanner Show”.]

Spanner 22.3: Fight the Power

2013-04-10T17:00:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 22: There Is No Law
Part 3: Fight the Power (Final Revision)

Richard Becket: My fellow Americans and righteous revolutionary comrades, greetings in the name of Jesus America, amen. Behind every apparent contradiction, there is a moral opposition of Good against Evil. Behind every phenomenon, there is a plan. The Force that guides our evolution is now being opposed by dark forces fuelled by resentment and low ambition that would put evolution to an end. The Order that sustains the world is struggling against the man of Chaos whose will is destruction. The Light that illuminates our purpose faces a spreading darkness.

Be vigilant, my brethren. Let not the Light of the World be put out. God bless America, and America bless God.

2 november 2014.
shira’s apartment. In their shared dream they are already making love. When the Crusader forces his way in to stop them from defiling the sabbath, the force of their love ejects him back into a body already starting to suffer the symptoms of migraine. The boundaries between them dissolve and their selves melt into each other in an orgasm as much physical as spiritual, so intense it wakes them up squealing in delight. The girl with the violet eyes deliriously coos, “I feel like we can destroy the System all by ourselves.”

Jennifer kills the mood. “No, we can’t be a guerrilla army of naked teenage superheroines.”

“What?”

“Any revolution based on leaders is inherently Conservative. The socialist revolution that surrenders to the charismatic leader has already killed itself by contradiction and becomes Corporatist in the end. It is the System. The only true revolution comes from below.”

“What makes you such an expert?”

“Willa studied revolutions for years till she concluded it was the ‘populist leader’ contradiction that killed not only twentieth-century socialism but Rock ’N’ Roll too.”

“It’s the Charmer trap,” says Shira. “I try to stay just a herald so I won’t go messiah and become everything I hate.”

“Some of the most bloodthirsty dictators were technically liberals, from Cromwell to Stalin. We can’t let ourselves fall into the messiah trap. The revolution belongs to the people collectively, or it’s just the same damn thing over and over.”

The girl sighs. “Does love belong to them too?”

“If everybody loves like we do,” Shira purrs, “the System is doomed.”

Jennifer says, “Freedom is nothing but love in action.” The girl’s eyes go wide, her lips part, realization dawns on her face. She takes in a long deep breath. Jennifer winks.

Dr. Hunter: I’ll put down this insurrection against our sacred profits even if I have to kill ’em all myself!
Hope: Funny she’d say that. She’s the reason we teachers are on strike against our own Guild.
Dr. Hunter: You’re fired! You’re all fired!
Amanda: Dr. Jenna Hunter, President of the Teachers Guild, has just fired the entire Guild membership to pave the way for its merger with SPEC and the merged company’s initial stock offering.
Hope: Stressed-out low-wage laborers can’t teach, and you know the kids’ll hack the roboteachers to play Angry Birds.
Dr. Hunter: Nobody cares if the little ants learn anything. America was founded to profit the best!
Jack Becket: Don’t make me arrest the lot of you for insubordination. It’s so un-American, it’s Communist!
Dr. Hunter: The Communist bitch doesn’t realize she’s already destroyed herself by messing with her own slut daughter?
Hope: This from someone already infamous for committing adultery with the current Party Chairman. She’s only deflecting attention away from her own scandals.
Nameless Reporter: Pirate Television News has just received Bermuda bank records that prove Jenna Hunter’s embezzlement of teacher salaries and student tuition, provided by the estate of the late Peter Ross.
Dr. Hunter: Guild leaders! Join with the virtuous Captains of Industry to take back control of your own workers and reclaim your God-given American right to profit!
Hope: Fellow workers! Your Guilds have stabbed us in the back! Let’s organize against Corporatist tyranny on our own terms! Join us in the streets! I call for a general strike!

red house. She feels it vanish with shocking suddenness. The absence makes her whole body shudder. She lets out a huge sigh of relief and melts into her mother’s body. Light sweat moistens her skin. The last of the painful knots within her vagina is gone. Desiree continues gently massaging the spot for a minute more and smiles. Her nameless daughter sits on her lap, within her embrace. Together they sway, silently celebrating the final liberation of the small body from the last of its shackles. Desiree gently whispers into her ear, “Are you ready now?”

The girl goes stiff with fear. “How do I know you’re different from those men?”

“I love you more than my life. I’m doing this only for you. Your pleasure is my pleasure; your happiness is my happiness. Now remember that you are your body. Surrender to the feelings and let them overcome you. Okay?” Desiree smiles gently at her; she relaxes and answers with a beautiful grin.

Desiree takes the bottle of warm oil off the nightstand and squeezes a drop onto the tip of her middle finger. She lightly touches the hood of her daughter’s clitoris; the girl shudders and takes in a breath, but her mother’s embrace makes her feel protected and gives her permission to surrender. The gentle finger caresses the hypersensitive spot, fills her body with a pleasurable pain she has never before savored, intensifying it little by little into an intense pleasure resembling the spiritual bliss her grandmother only spoke about...

Time slips away. She feels suspended in a warm sea of pure bliss. But something shocks her out of her reverie — someone is there — she shudders — Desiree looks to see—

Staring at them, equally shocked, is Jim Sparks. Shira’s cop. “What the hell are you doing to her?”

Desiree smiles at him. “Loving her back into her body.” Her caress tells her daughter she is protected; the girl relaxes but keeps her eyes on him. The smile disappears. ”The real question is, what brings you here?”

He narrows his eyes. “You know what we can do to you.”

Her voice goes cold. “Then get the men who did it first. If they’re still alive, of course.”

He raises his voice. It trembles. “How do you think you can get away with it?”

She smiles confidently. “I’ve got the power. Not even all the powers of all the Liberators combined can keep us apart.”

“What about your mother?”

“I won’t let that woman even into her presence,” she snarls. “And when she comes into her power, neither will she.”

He throws out his arms. “How can you even speak of your mother like that?”

She holds her daughter protectively. “If she’s a mortal enemy who destroyed your life, how can you speak of her any other way?”

He paces in panic. “If word gets out about this, they’ll associate it with the strike and discredit it completely!”

“They do it all the time. But crying wolf too many times makes people stop believing. Besides, they’ve already discredited their pro-eugenic morals many times over.”

“I hope you’re not going naked in public like your sisters.”

“You’re talking to someone who’s gone bankrupt replacing burnt-off clothes.”

“Her too?”

“Same problem eventually. Melody’s worse. She agreed to give ’em up entirely.”

“And now you think you can get away with doing your own kid?”

She smiles. Pause. A wink. “Didn’t you say once? ‘Love is stronger than justice.’” Her daughter gives her a nervous questioning look; she smiles comfortingly and nods. The girl slips off her lap and lies down slowly onto the soft bed, taking slow deep breaths, skin turning red and body trembling in anticipation, lips and legs slightly parted. Her mother gently and comfortingly caresses the soft moist skin of her small pale body as Sparks watches on, stunned as if witnessing from afar the accident that stole his face. She smiles back at him to silently let him know he’s welcome to watch. He says nothing; he cannot think. She plants a long firm gentle kiss on one small nipple and then the other; then she kisses down the moaning child’s body — and before she can kiss her there, memories flood in and he is lost...

He said those words whenever his father caught him with a girl. By driving away all his friends and loves, by various forms of coercion, Brendan Sparks eventually converted his son James to his view that there are no values other than law and order. James acted on his father’s values and lost his face...

His anonymously pretty replacement face attracted a Charmer with dark skin, wild red hair and beautiful green eyes; glamourous, sexy, flirtatious, uninhibited, fourteen. His youthful war cry stood before him in the flesh and gazed deep into him with that look. And then she took him to bed...

And now Shira’s older sister gently caresses her own young daughter’s cunt with her own in a surprisingly motherly way. They feed upon each other’s pleasure and sing a soft wordless duet. Desiree directs: “Touch my breasts.” Obeying, her child gently caresses them. “Beautiful. Ah, I love you.”

And the true significance of his own youthful war cry hits him like a high-speed train—

this deep physical love turns the key to a lock within his soul
a tumbril turns, his body shudders from deep within
and another large piece of the edifice his father built to imprison him falls away and tumbles into space—

Two women gasp to either side of him, horrified and fascinated by the sight. Sylvia sputters, “What are— why—”

He puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiles. “Love,” he replies, “is stronger than justice.” He winks.

The realization shocks the bright-eyed girl: “Do what thou wilt...” The others stare at her, knowing...

telesphere. In 1919, almost a century ago, the city had its one and only general strike. Labor unions were strong then and workers had much more control; but the Russian Revolution was still new, so the Corporates smashed the strike with military and paramilitary terrorism.

The news of that strike and this one is carried only on the private media channels, to inflame the lords of Corporatism to terrorist action again. The official channels

Fox: —deny—
Sun: —deny—
ABCNN: —deny—
QVCBS: —deny—
ESPNBC: —officially deny—

leaving KCUF and the Pirate Television Network as the only source reporting news instead of official government, Corporate, and Party denials and imprecations. The striking crowds give the bright-eyed girl, the hot reporter with no name, a hero’s welcome.

Nameless Reporter: The working majority of this city have swallowed their fear to demand what the so-called “Makers” stole from us — not just the money they embezzled or the freedom they abolished, but control of our lives and our labor!

The pictures the MSM peevishly refuse to show: masses of workers out in the streets in protest, refusing to return to their jobs, striking against the proudly antisocial Corporates who treat them like slaves and the Guilds that treat them as disposable temps.

Will Becket: Warning to the seditious rabble of Cascadia: Surrender unconditionally, swear fealty to your betters, and get back to work within forty-eight hours or else.
Ariel Shield: So the vicious little bloodsucker forces me to become this state’s protector? Very well. If he does carry out his threat, I shall Repulse his precious nukes back at him, to Holy City, NORAD, and Echelon. When I put a Repulse field around him and suck out the air, he shall sparkle in Hell. People, continue your strike.
Hope: The emergency dictator is only flaunting the criminal nature of the régime we’re trying to end.
Brinkman: (supposedly off the record) —that [censored] ingrate, I’ll bite her [censored] head off! (officially) We deny we ever made that threat.
Dr. Hunter: Wally, you chicken[censored]!
Spanner: ♪ Wally is a wally, Wally is a wally... ♫
Jack Becket: Unleash maximum force!
Shira: Flash mob!

Using their non-brand smartphones over the distributed wi-fi network, pirating the signals from Echelon’s drone and satellite eyes, the strikers track and predict the COPCO armoured strike forces’ every move and disappear from the attack zones to resume the strike elsewhere.

Jack Becket: They’re not capable of doing that! Well, hunt ’em down, [censored] it!
Ariel: (holds spork) *ahem*
Jack: Ariel, get the [censored] out of my way!
Hope: You and your Party put yourself in ours, One-Eye.

At last, Party Chairman Henry Becket forces himself onto the airwaves in a state of emotional near-breakdown:

Party Chairman Becket: (slams fist) The Takers shall, not, take, from the Makers.
Vice Chairman Rove: —the Takers won’t take from the Makers—
Vice Chairman Norquist: —the Takers won’t take from the Makers—
Co-Vice Chairman Koch: The Takers will not take from the Makers!
Drusilla Becket AMERICA!: Parasites!
Chairman Becket: Communists!
Vice Chairman Beck: Liberal traitors!
Vice Chairman Peikoff: Moochers!
Drusilla: (shrieks) Vampires!
Brinkman: (waves The Black Book of Communism) —bloodsucking pieces of [censored]—
Norquist: —poopyheads—
Peikoff: Looters!
Drusilla: (wide-eyed, grunting) —moral—cannibals!
Vice Chairman Nugent: (cocks AR-15) Kill ’em all!
Beck: (makes strangling gesture) —eeeeeeeeeeee—
Party Leaders: The Makers must take back!
Strike Leaders: That’s exactly what we’re doing!
Admiral Currie: (gleefully) Not on my watch.
Willa: (wags finger) Sorry, Reynard, but you people have already lost.
Chairman Weng of Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Ltd.: (translated from Chinese) You have all lost. History has blessed only the Eight Immortal and Forty-Four Exalted Houses of the Chinese Race with eternal dominion over the entire world and the infinite kingdom of space.
All: (in Chinese) You [censored] wish!

Unable to find the strikers, now as slippery as nudefighters in the heat of battle, unable to conscript them back into their bosses’ service, the COPCO strike agents smash any buildings, cars, and trash bins in reach.

Jack: (slams fist) [censored]!

The local branch of FEMEN, the European topless-feminist group, assemble to join their provocative call for women’s rights to the voice of the workers when they hear three voices call out, “You’re wearing too much!” They look to see three teenage girls, nude but for boots, gloves, and AR headgear: Shira, Jennifer, and the girl with the violet eyes, the famous nudefight girls of Bangor High school.

The nameless girl looks at their jeans. “If those are brand-name, you’re in thrall to the Fashion-Industrial Complex.”

“The slingers of bling,” Jennifer says, “no different from cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, television, commercial sex, and religion, all ruthlessly advertised to get you hooked. Go cold turkey, take it off, and get ready to fight!”

One of the more scornful feminists asks, “Won’t you get raped by your precious working men?”

Shira smirks. “They know they’ll get promoted to management if they do.”

“Corporates live to rape the workers day in and day out without cease,” Jennifer explains. “Rape culture begins in the royal courts and executive suites.”

“Just look at the Molotov Twins,” the girl adds. “My brother and I barely escaped their necrophilia.”

“Didn’t Engels say socialism will put the axe to the roots of crime? Workers rights are women’s rights.”

“Rights for all people, except the violators in the suites.”

“We can’t afford to be a replacement élite,” says Shira. “Look in the streets and you’ll find the only ones who can bring down the Liberators.”

Brandi arrives with Irina nude and fight-geared. “Jenni! I knew you’d find a way to turn nudefighting into a revolutionary stance!”

Jennifer pulls her close and kisses her. “Come, bounty hunter. There’s only one way to bring down the criminals in power. Join us.”

Shira pumps her fist. “Which side are you on?” Inflamed by these naked revolutionaries, the assembled feminists strip off their remaining clothes, put on their boots and gloves, and follow them into the heart of the general strike.

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[Revision 4 Final, 4/10/13: Scenes from the original have been heavily re-edited for Final Revision continuity, with new scenes added. Original R2 title: “Brinkmanship” (now the title of a chapter late in Book 2).]

Spanner 22.2: Lovecrime Conspiracy

2013-04-09T16:55:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 22: There Is No Law
Part 2: Lovecrime Conspiracy (Final Revision)

1 november 2014.
telesphere. The MSM breathlessly fall all over themselves to spread Empire-wide the word of a man the Party calls a terrorist, a man who may not even exist:

Spanner: Contradiction is truth. Evolution advances through contradiction and creative destruction. But the new truth that emerges out of contradiction inevitably becomes in its turn the lie that is contradicted.

The lie America calls truth is that there is no contradiction, that only the unitary truth of the nation’s divinity exists. The truths that contradict it, America calls evil. The truth of America is the tyranny of Egoism. The contradiction is the social nature of man.

Capitalism is dead. State socialism is dead. Corporatism will die in China as in America. Theocracy will die in Araby as in America. Syndicate kleptocracy will die in Mexico, Russia, and Equatorial Guinea as in America. Their fate is the trashcan of history.

The lie is faith in a static world without contradiction. All faiths assume it. All government is based on it. It is the denial of nature. For the nature of nature itself is contradiction, evolution, and creative destruction in the service of its own development and not the profit and power of a few selfish men.

The new order is the old with slicker marketing. The sovereign freedom of the Ego exists in contradiction with the existence of humanity. The new old order must in turn give way. It too must fall. Its fall is coming. This is not the decree of the Law. That is but the rules of the new old order. It is the law of nature. Nature will have her revenge.

Amanda: Breaking news! Seattle Public Education Corporation CEO Peter T. Ross, the entire principal staff, and dozens of Patriot Heroes found dead at the site of a spectacular explosion that levelled parts of Bangor High School outside Bremerton! The mysterious Rebel Styles is suspected.
Jack Becket: If I find that Styles [censored], I’ll wring her skinny [censored] neck!
Amanda: Bangor High’s alleged Student Union is taking advantage of the disaster to launch a series of city-wide anti-Revolutionary protests.
Reporter: (view of crowd from helicopter) Wow, Amanda, this thing is huge! (whip-pan to smoking ruins of the Dictel Towers) Meanwhile, the former Dictel Corporation headquarters rebuilt as Syndicate headquarters is in ruins!
Amanda: SPEC stock is going through the floor!
Reporter: (view of the NYSE floor) Panic on the trading floor! The short sellers are having an orgy!
Amanda: In a related development, female members of the winning fight club from last Friday’s tumultuous Team Challenge have been spotted walking around naked. Police and Moral Enforcement agents have somehow been unable to stop them.
Drusilla Becket AMERICA!: (flails arms) First that insolent little whore throws away the name God gave her, and now she wants to use her amazing superpowers to wave her pretty little [censored] in the altogether in front of His people? (hissing) Forget God. The [censored] shall answer to me. (makes clawlike strangling gesture)
Nameless Reporter: This just in: Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited has just launched a hostile takeover bid against CPMC!
Amanda: You didn’t hear that.
Brinkman: I said, no [censored] comment! (punches camera)

shira’s apartment. They wake up together in each other’s arms. They barely remember last night. The girl with no name dreamily marvels, “It’s like the E never wore off.”

Jennifer shudders. “No, it’s how intensely we synced against that Blade Knight. I’m still drowning in your love.”

Shira says, “Jen, you—”

“No names,” the girl interrupts. They look at her. “We’re too intimate. Names only get in the way.”

“Descriptives, then.” Shira kisses Jennifer. “Your love has always overwhelmed me, my dear scientist.”

Jennifer smiles. “And your love has always swept me away, my belovèd dancer.”

“And now the beautiful model we worship is one with us.”

The girl gives them each a long languid kiss and gives them a sweet mischievous smile. “Let’s fuck our brains out on the Man’s grave.”

—fierce brutal kiss like combat, suck bite breasts and buttocks, take turns spanking each other into a frenzy, lock cunts mouths breasts into violent victory—

Another nameless beauty, Shira’s niece, stares at them nude in the doorway, sweaty from pleasuring herself at the sight of their frenzy. Shira says, “Come here, little blondie.” She obeys her command and runs into her arms to give her a shockingly passionate kiss. The black-haired girl purrs, “There’s a willing child in our arms.”

Jennifer looks at her in shock. “And you want me to have sex with her?”

Shira and her niece smile sweetly at her. Shira coos, “She’s our lover. If you really are an enemy of the world, make her your lover too.”

“For us,” the black-haired girl adds, “there is no law and anything goes.”

Jennifer narrows her eyes. “Even IP violation?”

Shira grins. “Let’s make Lord Disney’s head squirm.” She winks.

The young girl’s eyes plead into Jennifer’s. She sighs.

—they tickle the girl, kiss her all over, bite hard her soft flesh, spank her together into shattering orgasm, she bites dark clit drinks sweet nectar, pale cunt attacks hers makes her reality collapse—

Jennifer is just out of the shower drying herself with a towel. Shira’s niece squats over the sink to pee. Shira and her girl with no name cuddle. Suddenly Hope and Kira burst in. “Uh-oh,“ says Jennifer, “this must be bad.”

Hope says, “SPEC just self-destructed.”

Nameless Reporter: The Seattle Public Education Corporation has just declared Chapter 7 bankruptcy, hitting all its creditors with a huge loss!
Dr. Jenna Hunter: The acquisition is going through by any means necessary. Anybody who gets in my way, I’ll personally have destroyed.
Hope Reston: Dr. Hunter believes the Teachers Guild needs a CEO but a membership. One of the issues we’re putting up to a member vote is whether it should have a management at all.

red house. “Why didn’t they give me a car?” asks Kira as the Mustang slips into the annex’s garage.

“Kira, I’m your car too,” Rio replies. Shira puts a hand on her leg, squeezes affectionately, and winks.

They get out as nude as they went in: the twins from the front, Jennifer and the two nameless girls from the back. Charlie and Desiree await them at the inside door. The blond girl leaps out and runs into Desiree’s arms and kisses her hard, not caring that her mother is still sweaty from lovemaking. Then Kira is beside them; finally able to reunited with her, Desiree pulls her close, holds her tight, kisses her long and hard.

Upstairs they trade tearful embraces with Sylvia and the bright-eyed girl. When Desiree sits down, her daughter hops into her lap and they cuddle. Shira, Jennifer, and the black-haired girl sit together on the couch. Kira and the bright-eyed girl stay locked in tight embrace, the woman marvelling that Kira’s still alive, Kira that she has no name. Charlie carries in a mixed fruit bowl from the kitchen for them to devour. Sylvia looks at the blond girl. “Desiree, are you okay with her like that?”
“Darling,” Desiree replies, “I never allow my children to wear clothes in the house.”

A grim Melody enters the living room to confront Shira. “You can’t be molesting my sister.”

“But I want her to!” her sister protests. Everybody stares at her, then at Shira.

Shira looks back at Desiree and the bright-eyed girl. “She’s just like me and Kira.”

Desiree, Charlie, and the nameless woman look at each other. Sylvia stares open-mouthed at them. “You would?”

“We did,” Charlie replies. They look at Shira and Kira.

Desiree looks at her now blushing daughter. “Would you?” The girl blushes deeper and shyly nods. “With me?” She grins and nods more enthusiastically. Desiree winks at Sylvia. “We have the powers to get away with it.”

The bright-eyed girl shakes her head violently. “I didn’t.”

“Stick with us and you will.”

Sylvia looks at them strangely. “This sounds like a criminal conspiracy to me.”

“To the Eugenics Institute, love is crime.”

“If love is strong enough,” says Charlie, “it can destroy society itself.”

“If my daughter and I can be lovers, their entire Revolution is a mirage.” Desiree and her child kiss with the passion of lovers as Sylvia watches in shock.

“Welcome to the lovecrime conspiracy.” Charlie winks.

Amanda: Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited has announced the hiring of Tim Eyman as vice president in charge of its new Seattle regional division, a position with mayoral status and powers. Eyman immediately held a press conference to show a presentation illustrating his Interstate 605 plan to build a series of new towns along the new corridor to create jobs and serve the company’s profit needs. CCP management signalled its approval...

penguindrome. When Jane Dead the tattooed nude DeadBot comes carrying trays of illegal moonshine shots, nobody can ignore her newly blue skin and missing head. Sparks rubs his hand over it, then turns to Shira. “Jesus H. fuck, girl, what the hell did you do to her head?”

Shira turns a narrow-eyed gaze to her twin. “What did you do to her head, Kira?” Kira answers with that look and a wink.

“What I wanna know is,” says Simon, “where’d all the girls’ clothes go.”

The girl with the violet eyes sidles up to him with a conspiratorial smile. “The dustbin of history, gone with her head.” She downs her whisky and mischievously kisses Jane’s stitched-up headless spot to leave a lipstick print on the blue skin.

Nine nudefight girls sporting gear meet the Wrecking Krewe in the basement studio: Shira, Kira, Jennifer, Polly, Brandi, Daisy, Melody, Fiona, and the violet-eyed girl, who cuddles the adoring young blond girl she brought totally nude; a furiously blushing Liz hides behind them in only hoverboard boots, gloves, and goggles worn above her eyes. The Krewe stare at them in shock. Moon Roach asks, “Like, uh, how come you girls are getting all nekkid?”

The violet-eyed girl winks. “I refuse to wear clothes anymore, and I’m taking this perfectly willing anonymous beauty as my child lover too, ’cos I now have the power to get away with it.”

Deth Pussy says, “Whoa babe, the Man’s got guns.”

“My power nullifies guns. Her sister’s is even better.” She winks at Melody, who answers with a grin.
Shira gives Akimi Tachibana that look. “Aki-chan! Tuesday. Radica’s flying naked with me, Kira, and McPhail. Wanna join?”

Akimi returns the look, which grows into a wicked grin. She tears off her clothes in front of everybody to a chorus of gasping hackers, then with an evil wink joins the cheering nudefighters. “I always wanted to see Epica McPhail naked.” Liz attempts an angry protest, but Akimi pulls her into her arms and silences her with a lascivious hard kiss as the others cheer her on.

“Ready to stuff their ‘Men’s Rage’ back up their fat white asses?” The nudefighters reply with howls and whistles and pumping fists, and the hackers join in.

Alex whistles for silence. She frowns. “Shira. COPCO already know.”

“Dear cuz, I’m counting on it.” Shira winks.

ESPNBC: CPMC has issued its official response to the Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited buyout announcement.
Brinkman: (slams fist on podium) Over my dead body!

kitsap kouriers. Expecting increased business over the extended weekend, Sophie puts out the call for new couriers. Three hoverboarders answer the call:

David Isabella, from Manila (Filipino not expatriate)
Gary Indiana, from Chicago (black but not New African)
Tana Bexter, from London (Indian not Anglo-Saxon)

A familiar dark-skinned redhead walks through the door carrying her hoverboard in her summer uniform and her jacket, followed by — herself? Kira’s apparent return from the dead catches everybody’s attention. Following them are Liz, carrying a printout of the ad, and a girl with no name wearing black gloves and ankle boots — but otherwise completely nude? Kei says, “I must be dreaming.”

Shira kisses her. “Long story.” While Kira introduces herself to Kei, Shira goes over with Liz to meet the new couriers. “You must be the new blood.”

Sophie joins them. “What brings you here so early, Shira?”

Shira shrugs. “School’s out, you know.”

“You gonna leave us the crumbs, number one?” asks Gary.

“No, today I’m the client.” As if on cue, Sparks and Deth Pussy come in carrying a large box. Shira hands the new couriers, Liz, Adam, and Warren a list of recipients. “It’s urgent we get these packages to these people before COPCO find out.”

Liz looks at the box in alarm. “Don’t tell me those are secret SPEC documents.”

“You up to it, or are you, um, ‘Epica’?” The other couriers giggle.

She waves her list in Shira’s face. “I’m a working person! I ain’t failing at this!”

Amanda: Cascadia’s Revolutionary leaders denounce the SPEC protests!
Brinkman: They’re calling for everything we fought the revolution against! We liberated America from Communism, and those traitorous peons want it back? They want a fight, we’ll give ’em one.
Dr. Hunter: Those losers don’t even deserve to be educated. That should be reserved only for the deserving.

kitsap kouriers. The couriers switch their boards on and warm up the lifters when who should arrive but Radica Maxx. Liz glares at her. “What the fuck’s she doing here?”

Radica dismounts and leaves her board behind to make the same strange look at the black-haired beauty standing openly nude. “What you think you’re doing without your clothes on, no-name girl?”

Shira says conspiratorially, “Amazing superpowers.”

The girl with no name purrs, “Lets me get away with anything I want.” She winks.

Radica finds herself confronted by Shira and Liz both shooting her that look. “Wh-wha...”

Liz turns narrow eyes to Shira. “She put me up to a dare.”

“Major Achievement, Rad,” says Shira. “Election day, I’m flying dressed just like my girlfriend.” She kisses the nameless girl.

Radica stares at her strangely. “Noooo.”

Liz shakes her head sadly. “Yes.”

Adam Toren and Warren Smith come up to them. Warren says, “If you won’t, we will.”

Shira, Radica and Liz shout, “No.”

Adam giggles. “Just tryin’ to help.” They scurry away.

Radica looks at the nude girl. “You flyin’?”

“No,” she replies, “I’m killing Oliver Thorwald.”

She gives the girl a gotcha grin “Now there’s something you can’t get away with!”

“Public duel. The Corporate equivalent of a divorce.”

“You were married to him?”

“I barely escaped.” The girl leans closer. “Well, Radica? Has Shira already owned you by default?”

Radica’s face turns several shades of red, then turns angry. She stomps up to Shira. “No way I’m letting you outdo me! I accept!”

Everybody cheers her decision. Shira directs that look back toward the back door, from which Kira emerges with her board. When Radica sees her, she gets suspicious. “What the hell kind of trick—”

Kira clears her throat.

Radica looks at Kira, then Shira, then back. The realization dawns on her. Her jaw drops to the ground. “Ahhhhh! Weren’t you dead?”

Nameless Reporter: The protests at SPEC headquarters resumed as soon as the company declared bankruptcy. Then new CEO Jenna Hunter held a press conference.
Dr. Hunter: The merger and IPO must go on regardless. The freedom of education from government tyranny depends on it.
Amanda: This only intensified the protests and generated a flurry of lawsuits.
Dr. Hunter: I’ll sue those ingrates back!
Angela Coyne: We have evidence Mrs. Hunter has been embezzling Teachers Guild dues for years.
Nameless Reporter: COPCO vows to crack down.
Jack Becket: (pulling his hair) Can’t these people stop this nonsense and just obey their betters like they’re supposed to?
Field Reporter: We’re choking in tear gas out here, Amanda!
Nameless Reporter: COPCO agents are in full-scale riot — what is this? They’re being joined by gangsters!

Tana Bexter delivers her package to the Teachers Guild dissident leaders in Tacoma,
David Isabella to Kent,
Gary Indiana to Airport City,
Adam Toren to Redmond,
Warren Smith to Everett,
Liz McPhail to Federal Way,
Radica Maxx to the embattled group in Puyallup,
Adam Treece (Frank Becket) to Bellevue,
Kira to South Seattle,
and, protected by the nameless girl’s Repulse field, Shira delivers one package directly to her own mother, Hope Reston—

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[Revision 4 Final, 4/9/13: Mostly new material in Fourth Revision continuity. The opening scene originally opened the entire chapter and gave its name to 22.1 (“Contradiction Is Truth”). Original title: “Working for the Crackdown” (no longer relevant to R4).]

Spanner 22.1: Teenage Resistance

2013-04-08T17:00:00.000-07:00

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 22: There Is No Law
Part 1: Teenage Resistance (Final Revision)

Power concedes nothing without a demand.
It never did and it never will.
Frederick Douglass

And if there’s any hope for America,
it lies in a revolution,
and if there’s any hope for a revolution in America,
it lies in getting Elvis Presley to become Che Guevara.
Phil Ochs

cpmc headquarters. The CEO makes his official announcement to all the company’s division heads over the corporate network:

Brinkman: Greetings, righteous comrades of our Conservative Revolution, in the name of Jesus America, amen. We the Makers are confronted today with the insurrection of the Takers, who are trying to steal what God made ours alone.

We fought this Revolution to snuff out the last remnants of Communism! Socialism is Communism — unionism is Communism — democracy, the dictatorship of the Takers, is Communism in disguise! America’s only salvation is the strict leadership of the Makers who built One Nation under the One God who created it and commanded unto it universal dominion over all mankind for all eternity. We can’t let the Takers steal Our Nation! We must save our Revolution if America is to bring salvation to the world and into the infinite kingdom of space!

[pumps fists] Real Americans! Join the resistance! Pick up your guns and send your biggest tax-deductible donations now! America bless God!

bangor high. Lefty Lucy once warned the Molotov Twins, “Loca Fantoma get that look on her face, ooooh-eeee, y’all be in deep shit.” That look — lips smiling cockeyed, eyes wide with mischief, malice, and Plan Z — is already on Shira’s face as she reaches the hill behind the school first. “I’d do anything to see the look on the fat man’s face!” she exults to the others struggling to catch up with her: Debbie in her schoolgirl uniform and carrying a rifle; Frank dressed civilian; Kira, Jennifer, and the girl with the violet eyes naked and fight-geared.

On the other side of the hill from the school, Fleer’s SeaHawk rises from its hangar, Falconer in the pilot’s seat, missile launchers and Vulcan cannons fully loaded. “Uh-oh,” Kira sings, “here come the revolutionary vanguard.”

Jennifer lowers her glasses — her eyes go wide, then narrow. “Ross is dead, so are the principals, and Honey Bunny’s coming to finish off the rest of us.”

Irrational rage overcomes Debbie. “What?!” Her rage turns cold, she aims her rifle directly between Falconer’s rage-maddened eyes — but Frank and Jennifer wrestle her to the ground. “Stop it! I have to kill her!”

Kira calls Charlie to have her warn the protesters. The nameless girl gets in Debbie’s way and stares down Falconer. “I got this one.”

“Just don’t do anything foolish.”

“She has no idea what she’s in for.” She winks. The SeaHawk hovers into missile range of the protest. Below, Charlie takes her position in front of the crowd and puts up a Repulse field just in case. When Falconer gets the battle copter pointed where she wants it, she fires a Tomahawk at her own terrified students. The girl uses an unusually subtle Repulse to deflect it over the protest, across Eightieth Street, through Dictel Park, into the Dictel Towers. Unlike the seemingly indestructible military-industrial headquarters it replaced, the gangster fortress is made of much flimsier material that blooms into inferno like dry tinder. The girl smiles at the thought of bloodthirsty narcoterrorists screaming in helpless horror as they burn to death, their pet Deads flailing about in flames — and feels Falconer’s shriek of surprise. Frank, Debbie, and Kira laugh. Falconer fires her remaining three missiles in quick succession; the girl nudges them too into the flaming fortress.

Falconer spots the newtypes on the hill. She sees that look in the twins’ eyes. In rage, she turns toward them and fires her Vulcan cannons. Instead of Repulsing the bullets, the girl nudges the SeaHawk into a spin so that the rounds hit Syndicate warehouses crammed with illegal weapons, setting them on fire, blowing them up. The Major loses her nerve and flies away, not to the Navy base where her dead lover’s bitter enemy now rules, but over Dictel Park, around the gangster inferno, to the abandoned warehouses to the south.

Shira unholsters her phone and makes her first call. She tells Karen, “Now.”

And Karen calls all her counterparts leading the Student Unions at Central Kitsap, North Kitsap, South Kitsap, Bremerton, Kingston, Gig Harbor, Seabeck
and they call their counterparts at other high and junior high schools under SPEC’s ownership, who in turn call other Student Union leaders
and the leaders tell their leadership and organizing committees, who tell the students they lead, who call all their friends and their parents
and soon all the Student Unions in Metropolitan Seattle rush out of their classes — do battle against their school management and Student Councils and contract security — turn what was planned merely as a peaceful rally against the company’s tolerance of crime into a full-scale student strike against the company itself
and then word spreads that the Chairman himself is dead, and teachers and janitors and service staff and even security staff join in, turning it into a full-scale strike against the Teachers Guild itself—

eightieth street. The rodeo clowns drive their rickety old pickup from the Silverdale direction with a sound cannon in its bed, a surplus from some Third World war they bought on the black market. While Oz drives, Shane flips through the Viking metal MP3s on his phone. “What should we play, Winterfylleth or Wodensthrone?”

Oz flashes him a wicked grin. “I’m feelin’ kinda, y’know, Enslaved.” He winks.

“Enslaved it is.” Shane scrolls up from W to E, opens up Enslaved, randomizes the playlist, syncs the phone to a Bluetooth adapter plugged into the blaster’s kludged-in audio input, and now it’s ready to play.

Nameless Reporter: The student protest against SPEC has spread far beyond Bangor High and all over the city.
Jack Becket: We will not let this act of insubordination go unpunished. But first we need to muster up the manpower...
Brinkman: Don’t be deceived by this idealism tripe. It’s nothing more than the Takers trying to steal yet again what rightfully belongs to the Makers.
Amanda: SPEC spokesmen refuse to confirm or deny reports that company chairman Peter T. Ross has died.
SPEC Spokesman: No comment.

hospital. The injured who aren’t airlifted directly to downtown Seattle or can’t fit in the crowded Silverdale Harrison ER are driven to Bremerton. One of the doctors who responds to the call is Allen Stevens according to his ID card. Security rushes him in—

but he doesn’t go to surgery. Instead, he reads the number he has written on his hand. Johnny Skeever pats the gun in his shoulder holster and struggles to suppress a self-satisfied smile.

bangor high. The truck skids to a stop in the middle of the street, in front of the protest, as Falconer turns the SeaHawk around on the other side of Dictel Park. Drivers scramble to escape the sound cannon’s range. Shane and Oz hop out of the cab and into the bed. Oz fine-tunes the blaster’s aim using AR goggles and datagloves. Shane waits for the exact moment to press play. “That our killer?”

Over his phone’s speaker Shira replies, “In Big Al’s big bird, even.”

“Say when.”

“Make it perfect.”

The SeaHawk speeds over Dictel Park like a jet. Falconer itches for one last shot. Shane and Oz turn on the sound cannon. When Falconer comes right where they want her, Shane presses play.

The sound cannon blasts Viking metal at lethal volume. The SeaHawk explodes right over the burning Dictel Towers, obliterating the ruins, the SeaHawk, and herself. The protesters can’t help but cheer in relief.

hospital. “You’re relieved, nurse,” says the suspicious-looking man dressed as a doctor at the door to Karen’s room.

“But Doctor—”

“No questions. Do what I say.” The nurse leaves with a resentful look.

Casually he strolls past the first two beds. Before he gets within her field of vision, he takes a syringe out of his briefcase, loads it with cyanide, and holds it up “doctor style.”

The old lady in the second bed watches him and says, “You’re not a doctor.”

The “doctor” smirks and flashes a COPCO agent’s badge. “You’re right. I’m a cop.” He puts the badge back and puts his finger to his lips.

He flips open the curtain hiding Karen’s compartment, holds up the syringe, and says, “This is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me.”

Karen stares unsmiling into his eyes. “You’re no cop, either... Johnny Skeever.”

The old lady in the next bed screams, making Johnny drop the syringe. In frustration, he takes out his gun and yells, “You lie! You’re a fuckin’ terrorist! This one’s for murderin’ Fleer!”

Someone cocks a service revolver behind him. Johnny feels the cold steel of a barrel touch the back of his head. Sparks says coldly, “Hmmm. Impersonating a cop, too. Seems almost yesterday you broke outta jail.”

“You’re the impersonator, Jimmy,” Johnny snarls. “You’re just some two-bit commie liberal nigger-lovin’ faggot.”

“You’re a mole, then. Which makes you worse. Who owns you, Johnny? The Russkies? The Wogs? Chinese Corporatist Party (Holdings) Limited? If I’m impersonating like you say I am, it’s only because I’m not for sale.”

“Well, then I better collect. Double the treason, triple the take. See you in hell, Jimmy.” Johnny swings around and tries to get a bead on Sparks. The agent blocks Johnny’s aim with a wrist smash. He stares into the hitman’s hate-twisted eyes.

“Looking forward to meeting you there.”

Sparks shoots Johnny point blank between the eyes. The killer falls backwards, bounces off the foot of Karen’s bed, falls off and onto the floor, leaving a bright red trail. Karen screams; her cousins rush to hold her from each side. Security men swarm into the room and point their guns at Sparks. He puts his revolver back into its shoulder holster and shows them his badge. “That was Johnny Skeever, professional assassin. Your patients are safe now.”

school lobby. Bart fights the pain and crawls. His shattered kneecaps can no longer keep his legs from painfully curling back. With grim determination he carries the dead Blade Knight’s blade in futile hope of cutting Shira’s throat.

Someone expertly pries the knife out of his hand. He looks up.

Rob Shelley.

For the last time, Rob takes the jacket and shirt off his beautiful body, revealing a surprisingly muscular torso, shaved smooth like a girl — no, like an athlete. “Pretty boys gotta be strong too.” He flexes his pectorals, blows Bart a mischievous kiss, discards his now useless clothes onto his vanquished foe, and pivots on his fighting boots to leave with a model’s graceful walk. The last thing Barton Green hears before he passes out from shock is the massive death squee from a legion of adoring girls.

KCUF: SPEC stock’s going through the floor!
Fox: SPEC spokesmen have no comment.
Sun: —no comment.
ABCNN: —no comment.
QVCBS: —no comment.
ESPNBC: That impostor of mine is a liar too.
Shira: Short sellers, have at!

hospital. Sparks picks one of the less used exits to avoid the news cameras and curious crowds. He opens the door to find Arvid Shield on the other side. He pulls his service pistol on him. Arvid smiles calmly.

“You really should put the gun down, Jim.”

“Gimme a good reason, Artie.”

“You need my help more than anything.”

“Our help,” says Frank, behind him.

“I don’t fucking believe this.”

“Believe it,” says the bright-eyed girl, coming out from behind Arvid.

Frank says, “The System messed with our heads and then threw us away.

“It was never Yolanda.”

Sparks stands paralyzed, eyes and mouth wide, for an endless moment. He holsters his pistol when he regains his self-control. “Art, does your niece know?”

“Jennifer Blair does,” the bright-eyed girl replies. “She saw me with those eyes.”

He slaps his forehead. “Shoulda figured that. So how are you gonna help me bring down the System?”

“Shira knows. She calls it Plan Z.” She winks.

dictel park. In the clearing where Mark Bernkastel met fiery death, hree sweaty nudefighters stand ready to strike, surrounded entirely by Patriots, awareness keyed to the extreme. Colonel Green emerges from among his warriors. His stare betrays the horror and disgust behind the man-rage: at their sweaty nudity, at their taut coiled muscles, at the the hideous uncleanness he perceives hiding behind the beautiful mask of Woman — he chokes on his own voice. “You repulsive whores. Y’all gonna die right here!”

The girl with no name says, “Famous last words.”

Shira says, “Seems we’re the last thing standing between you and having a rape party on all those sweet succulent innocents.”

Jennifer says, “You boys have no idea what you just stepped into.”

Green shrieks, “Slash ’em to shreeee—” Shira’s Go-Yo smashes into his mouth and knocks his teeth in; she catches it on the rebound. The Patriots move in with guns and knives, but their targets slip away; Shira nudges a shooter’s pistol into his nose and the bullet into a comrade; Jennifer spins about slitting tendons with Bernkastel’s knife; the girl flits from terrorist to terrorist calmly cutting them apart. Realizing they’ve been outmatched by mere teenage girls, the Patriots make way for their commander.

Braddock Green rips his canvas camo shirt top to bottom and flings it away. The girls gasp and momentarily flinch: imprinted indelibly among the gray hairs on his brutally muscled chest, the death’s head and crossed swords signifying the Blade Knights. Realizing they can’t beat him alone or even as a team, the girls sync — three consciousnesses shudder at the intensity of their love for one another for an instant then merge into one — three bodies shift with one mind into positions around him. He unsheathes his sword. Shira flicks down her Go-Yo and mocks him with that look.

He swings at her; she ducks and hits his kneecap — the Go-Yo bounces off steel — the girls behind cut his shoulder tendons — he swings his whole body at them, they lunge past and hamstring him, Shira rolls under to kick upward into the groin and steal the sword—

They stand around him, not certain they have won until they see the pattern: they feel his shock, the mighty Blade Knight defeated by three teenage girls fighting nude, driven by love for each other and for the young idealists gathered in protest across the street.

They unsync with a huge sigh. They sheathe their weapons; Shira drops the sword. Jennifer takes the girl with no name into her arms to reward her with a long kiss; their bodies relax, Shira embraces them and kisses them both. They look back at the burning ruins of the Dictel Towers. They they turn back and walk together, arms around each other’s shoulders, across an Eightieth Street now blocked to traffic, to rejoin the protest.

KCUF: It has now been confirmed that SPEC chairman Peter T. Ross has died of a stroke.
Fox: —Ross—
Sun: —dead—
ABCNN: —stroke—
QVCBS: —confirmed—
ESPNBC: SPEC stock has just been delisted—

s.p.e.c. headquarters. And in defiance of a full-scale armoured-police invasion, the tear gas and rubber bullets and electric truncheons, and the Prison-Industrial Complex speculators drooling at the prospect of an entire city enslaved, thousands upon thousands of people, students and parents and enraged investors, stampede the corporate headquarters complex demanding the immediate return of their tuition and their lost investments. The remaining board members and upper management lock themselves inside the boardroom, panicking at the sudden revolt, wailing at the news of Ross’ death and Bangor High’s implosion, calling their brokers or their lawyers, suffering strokes and heart attacks or committing suicide by pill overdose. A pretty reporter with no name reports the news to the Darknet, the MSM smell a ratings boost and steal her scoop, and the Fearsome Foursome are too busy trading recriminations over clandestine channels to be able to stop it.

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[Revision 4 Final, 4/8/13: New scenes and plot threads added and all scenes remaining from Revision 2 heavily edited for Final Revision continuity. The entire “rescue of Karen” arc removed from Chapter 21 remains only in the “Karen in the hospital” scene here, now condensed. Original title “Contradiction Is Truth”, whose title scene now opens 22.2.]

Spanner R4: Looking Back So Far: Mad Love, or Romantic Love as the Destruction of Society

2013-04-07T21:00:00.000-07:00

I've posted on this theme before, but I never managed to fully integrate it into Spanner until Revision 4, including Chapters 22 and 23 which I'm racing to finish as I write this. André Breton, leader of the twentiety-century Surrealist literary and artistic movement, defined "mad love" (l'amour fou) as a love so extreme, so far beyond the limits even of unreason, it can destroy the entire social order itself. It drove Shira to her suicidal lover Leila, Leila to declare war against the Brinkman clan and erase her name, and the couple to copulate using a power crystal under the speaker's platform in Chapter 15 in order to fuse their boosted powers into a "binary system" that killed King Patriot. Now they are escalating their love into full-blown revolution, and bringing in Shira's blond cousin Jennifer to make their couple a threesome.

The Fourth Revision finds the couple/threesome doing insane things for the sake of mad love. In Revision 4.1, the final one-pass edit and ebook stylesheet hackathon, I intend to strengthen the last weak points in their love arc and integrate it better into the revolution and Student Union storylines which converge on the final three chapters of Book 1, as some weaknesses remain from Revisions 2 and 3; also, I should bring forward such counterpoint romances as the unstable one between Charmian and Bart that implodes in Chapter 20, or the four-sided love triangle centering on Corporate villain Oliver and involving a mad scientist, a high-school mean girl, and the world's most evil pop idol, and which used to be five-sided until Leila ditched her name and patriarch-arranged marriage and left him for her tempestuous lesbian romance with Shira.

One of the inspirations for importing "mad love" into the Shira-Leila romance was an analysis I read in a film book of Surrealist director Luis Buñuel's last film, That Obscure Object of Desire, in which the author speculated that, Buñuel being the Surrealist he was, this movie was at least in part about l'amour fou, and that though bourgeois French protagonist Mathieu and his tempestuous Spanish lover Concha (played by two actresses, one Spanish, one French, alternated at whim, sometimes even in mid-sentence) did have a crazy relationship involving mutual torture, Mathieu was too much the bourgeois Frenchman to let himself go and destroy the bourgeois French society to which he belonged. Since I had planned the Shira-Leila relationship as a lesbian romance since that fateful day in 1996 when I discovered yuri manga on the Internet, I realized the best way to fit that romance into the longer revolution plot was l'amour fou: a teenage lesbian mad romance between a prank-loving superslut and a suicidal fashion model. As Jennifer has been in love with Shira since childhood, she proved easy to suck in (and her role will be strengthened in Revision 4.1). Add the moral fascism of the Eugenics Institute and Shira's eight-year-old niece who happens to be a rare "true loli", and watch things go completely to hell — exactly (cackles the evil mad scientist) as planned.

As a side effect (whether fascinating or annoying depends on the reader), my quest for l'amour fou led me to the Surrealist poets (one of Breton's own poems is of course titled "L'amour Fou"), and from there to Allen Ginsberg and the Beats and American Modernist poetry in general (particularly William Carlos Williams and Sylvia Plath) — and when I started writing my own poetry under their influence, I suddenly found my poetic voice, and naturally it ended up all over Spanner R4, another of the ways it's so radically different from Revisions 2 and 3. For R4.1, I found myself re-editing the climactic moment of 1.6 as one of the surreal passages from a novel by science fiction writer Alfred Bester (that proto-cyberpunk who got a Babylon 5 villain named after him) in the form of a free-verse poem written by the likes of Breton or Ginsberg. Which seems appropriate enough, considering that Bester's short story "Fondly Fahrenheit", a major influence on the cyberpunks, is itself a complete Surrealist mindfuck involving wavering identity.

In La Révolution Surréaliste #12 (the final issue), the the editors posed these questions:

How would you judge a man who would go so far as to betray his convictions in order to please the woman he loved?
Do you believe in the victory of admirable love over sordid life or of sordid love over admirable life?

To which the only proper Surrealist answer is: yes.

Spanner R4: Looking Back So Far: The Nudefighters, or Fanservice as a Deadly Weapon

2013-04-07T14:59:00.000-07:00

Here in the second of my weekend posts on plot threads that exploded in the Fourth Revision of Spanner Book 1 while I finish editing its penultimate chapter, there's the idea that I may have put into the Revision 2 version of Chapter 1 but didn't balloon into a central thread until the final version of Chapter 20: the concept of "nudefighting." In Chapters 1 and 3, it involved Shira and her martial-artist friends wearing minimal clothing that can be stripped off in a fight. In Chapter 6, they (and especially Jennifer) stripped down naked to make gangsters and cult priests irrational enough to beat. In Chapters 15 and 20, they took advantage of rainstorms because wet skin is so difficult to hold onto; if Shira had allowed Bart the traction clothes provide, she wouldn't have beaten him in Chapter 20's Team Challenge, and he knows it.

Like I said, wet skin, whether made wet by rain or sweat or other liquid, is very difficult to hold onto. Jennifer also explains that if one gets wounded by bullet or blade while fighting naked, fabric fibers don't get stuck in the wound and infect it, a traditional cause of soldier deaths.

But then from Chapter 21 on, the clothes stay off. The nudefighters leave even the minimal tearable clothing at home, neglected. They even come to school and spend the day as naked as they were when they fought off Klowns and cultists in Chapter 6. One reason given in Chapter 14 is that Jennifer got used to fighting nude when the victorious Conservative Revolutionaries made her a slave soldier and inadvertently made her a legendary warrior who killed 10,000 Caliphate jihadis and came back with a vendetta against the Party. And this dovetails with Shira's inborn perversity and the combination of hatred for her class and lack of prudery that Leila (now the anonymous beauty known as, among other things, the girl with the violet eyes) has. But somehow, as Brandi points out to Jennifer in Chapter 21, for them nudefighting has changed from a fighting tactic into a revolutionary stance against a Conservative Revolution already souring. And the nudefighters who have amazing superpowers use them to get away with it.

But of course it remains primarily a tactic to freak out raging men who hate women and drive them into the irrationality that spells easy defeat. No wonder Shira calls it "fanservice as a deadly weapon." But then, Spanner is after all a story of a revolution against a revolution...