Chapter 3: Summoned: Book 1 – An Accidental Adventure Prologue iii

Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –

Prologue iii

                Back in that other realm the Old Man worked in a room just as eclectic in form as he was.  Due to the vagaries of the Quantum Event that had occurred on this planet it could be separated in Time, Space, or Both from the Universe in which it all started.  It could also be neither, and it is just somewhere… Else.  The dark location and the Old Man bustled with a strange otherworldy energy.  It could be considered a bit of an odd description.  Bustling in regards to the pulsating energy located within.  Yet it was the most apt description at present.

 

                The room was an Elipse in shape, filled with many machines and technologies from just as many era’s of their history.  All of the equipment was connected together in one way or another by wires, tubes, fiber optics, directed energy relays, and even some DNA data transfer paths.  The mish mash of gears alongside was even more diverse than the items connecting them.  From analogue calculating machines and touch screen computers to cathode ray tube displays and even full holographic interface projections.  On one counter against a wall there was even a living half of a bovine like head with several sets of wires and tubes protruding from the brain in its skull.  The energized feeling in the room pulsed once, similar to the feel of a heartbeat waking up from a long rest.  As if this all was a living construct standing up to meet the demands of the Old Man who was puttering around setting everything up.

 

                Along the rooms center axis were seven beds.  Made of similar to the other parts in the room.  Their only similarity to each other was in that they all had flat tops perfectly arranged for holding a humanoid body.

 

                Only two of the beds were occupied currently.  The first was that of a red haired woman that had been recovered earlier that day from one of the battle fields that the Old Man had been scavenging through.  She was stripped of any clothing or gear that may have had on in the field.  Just her bare body and many cables and tubes running into various wounds covering her flesh.  Apparatus hung from the ceiling where most of the equipment was connected to her.  She was tall, easily a head and a half taller than the Old Summoner.  Well formed muscle tone contrasting with a very obviously female frame.  The deep strawberry red locks had been cleaned somewhat of blood and debris from the field, yet some of it still remained.  It had recently been hacked to shoulder length from the uneven yet sharp hair ends.  Pale fair skin currently ashen like that of a corpse.  A smattering of freckles on her face shoulders and upturned breasts.  There was a small privacy towel over her waist with a thicker pair of cables leading out from under it.  Over her body could be easily discerned dark green metallic marks or perhaps solid tattoos.  A pair of sharp and slim angular lines accentuating her jawline.  Three slicker slashes of the marks under her breasts on each side of her chest each over one of her ribs.  Two carefully etched geometric rings were on each upper arm.  Her forearms sported a strange open centered oval and two trapezoid shapes on the back of each hand.  Visible on her thighs were thick elongated triangles, two per thigh each sharp end pointing towards her kneecaps.  A set of lines reminiscent of the slashes on her ribcage were crafted into her flesh around each calf.  There were others most likely but they were not presently visible on her form.

               

                A few tables down from her lay another body.  Just as denuded of clothes as the first with the same privacy towel an array of miscellanea just as confusing as the other beings entered the more masculine body.  He was shortish compared to the Old Man and with a torso too.  His skin was a pinkish dusky rose tan crisscrossed with old and faded scars.  He had a broad islander style of face, wide cheekbones and flattened nose.  The sides of his skull were shaved or perhaps hairless, though he grew a near mane of very full hair starting high on the forehead all the way down to the nape of his neck.  Shiny and raven black, it was in a long thick braid that would reach his well-defined calves if he was standing up.  Two other main points of interest about him was a sort of cybernetic interface with ports built into his right pectoral muscle with several lights glowing dimly in it and one very thick cable from the array above plugged into it.  Another item of note was the three metallic silver parallel stripes on each forearm about a fingers width wide starting on the outside of the arm to sweep across and down diagonally to end just before the wrist on the inside of the forearm.

               

                Beyond those and the Old Man there was nothing otherwise in the room.  Which included any possible door or even air recirculation systems.  Not anything that could be used to enter or exit the room in any way.

               

                The Old Man muttered something rather inaudible and began to fade much the way that he had gathered the womans body in the field earlier.  With each heartbeatlike pulse of energies he faded further and further from view until he was gone.  The pulsing energy of the room died down to only a slow trickle of motion once the room was vacated by anything moving.  Some unknown time later the pulse livened again.  A crackle from one of the devices sparked energetically and a sonic vibration pulsed along one of the tables.  A thumping rhythm began with a gyrating whooshing like sound as a body of a large hulk of a person with granite like skin began to gain substance from the nothingness.  Almost as wide as he was tall, the body was wrent and torn.  One arm almost completely sundered from his form, inside clockworks, pistons, and brass works seemed to make up the interior skeletal structure.  A gray powder seeped and seemed to ooze from the wounds in the skin.  Nothing much remained of his clothing but it must have been from some type of military uniform.  On his chest was a disk much the same that the Old Man had used prior.

               

                Not long after the hulk finished materializing the Old Summoner began to fade into view.

 

                “Wilheim, you fool.  You knew better to take on Braashend.”  He said sorrowfully to the prone body.  He began muttering in an odd arcane language.  The dirt and grime on the body began to absorb as an apparatus lowered from the ceiling like some deep sea horror part cetacean part insect that was readying itself to eat.  It unlimbered some mechanical arms that began to repack the broken bodu back into a more correct form.  Under the ministrations of this unit and the Old Man the body was unclothed and repairs begun.

 

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                ~ Nick and Felix ~

               

                Away from the Old Man and his strange technological amalgams and back in the San Diego State University campus Felix and his friend Nick were walking along.  The two of them were discussing, well more of arguing, various points.  Sort of a rambling argument that went from topic to topic.  With its cadence as well as a lack of any actual aggression, it was clear to any outside observer that the two did this on quite a regular basis.

 

                That is, until a bevy of the finer half of humanity walked out in front of them.  As Felix maintained the conversation in full, Nick’s eyes enjoyed the sight of derriere on display in skinny jeans, yoga pants, and shorts.  It took a few dozen paces until the shorter of the two even noticed the lack of conversational reply from his taller companion.

               

                “Yo Nick.”  Said with some irritation.  “Earth to Nick.  Hey Nicholas.”  Felix kept up as he snapped his fingers loudly in front of his friend.  “You know they wouldn’t give you the time of day so stop oogling."

 

                The snapping did the trick with his friend and brought Nick out of his visually induced torpor.  “Yeah, I know.  But eye candy is still eye candy.”  He patted Felix patronizingly on the shoulder as he continued, “I’ll explain it some day when you get fuzz on your chin.”

 

                Felix had a rather scoffing tone to his reply. “Whatever man.  I’m the one who’s dating a Cheerleader, remember?”

 

                “Dude, she’s in high school.  Doesn’t count.”

 

                “She’s eighteen.  Does count.”

 

                Nick shook his head at his friend.  “You know that as soon as she gets into collages he’s gonna dump you, right?”

 

                With a sigh, “Yeah, you right.”  Then the smaller man perked up noticeably.  “But until then, I’m the one dating a cheerlearder.  Don’t you forget it.”  By the end of his statement Felix was grinning like a fiend.

 

                As Nick was about to reply with what he felt was a witty rejoinder his cell phone start to ring out the tune to ‘In the Navy’ by the Village People.  He didn’t let it get too far into the chorus line before answering .  “Yo, Nick speaking, the answer is 42.”

 

                On the other end of the line Nick could hear his friend Chris laugh before he responded.  “So long and thanks for all the Fish.” 

               

                It was an old joke between the two of them.  Luckily it was also popular enough in their life rather than just obscure nerd trivia like in their parents generation. 

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                “So, get your butt over here.  We can game as soon as you and Short Stack arrive.”  Chris said to him.

 

                Felix bristled as soon as he saw Nick attempting to smother a laugh at Chris’s description of him.  “Tell him to Shove Off Nick!”

 

                At that Nick could no longer smother his laugh as the very persnickety Felix had known exactly what type of comment had been made.  The small man knew exactly who Nick was talking too as that ring tone was assigned to only one contact in his phone.  It was Nick’s way of poking fun at Chris as the other man had done a short stint in the Coast Guard.  Which of course, given Nick’s sense of humor ended up being a double joke on the guy.

 

                “I see that got the appropriate reaction,” Stated the prior puddle hopping not quite swabbie.  “Anyway, the other guys have already showed up.  We’re killing some time on Mario Kart but anxiously waiting to see what breed of demented ass weasels you are going to throw at us tonight.”

 

                Nick finally calmed down a little from snickering at Felix’s vertical challenged issues.  “I can neither confirm nor deny the presence of Ass Weasels in tonight.  Neither can I speak to their mental stability.”  As he talked about said tubular mammals Felix made the universal gesture of TMI to him.  “Also, I’ll drag our pleasant little murder munchkin along.  We’re on our way.”

 

                Chris laughed at that.  “That’s an insult to murderers you know.”

 

                Felix and Nick were pacing along towards the parking lot as they made a beeline to Nicks car.  Felix had his hands in his pockets and a slightly downtrodden expression on his face.  “you don’t have to encourage him you know.”

               

                “Oh come on Felix.  You know Murder Munchkins would be pretty sick.”

 

                The shorter man continued to sulk for a few more steps before his expression shifted and he finally laughed.  “Only if the Lollipop guild’s Lolli’s were shaped like Battle Axe’s.”

 

                On the phone Chris’s excellent hearing managed to pick up a touch of Felix’s comment.  “Wait, I call Veto on Lollipop Battleaxe’s!”

 

                Nick got another chuckle at that and responded, “Mayhap it will be Lollipop Battleaxe wielding Murder Munchkins with Demented Ass Weasel Familiars tonight.”

 

                Chris growled out a good bye before keying off his side of the conversation.

 

                Meanwhile the two reached the correct area of the parking lot and Nick pulled out his key fob to remote deactivate his car alarm.  A quick bleep bleep later and the two of them were getting into a rather beat up tan Ford Escort that had seen better days.  The inside matched the outside in appearance but that was a matter of choice for the owner.  Since Nick enjoyed the obtuse, bizarre, and the downright strange he had invested funds into the drive train and performance instead of the exterior and looks.  Since that specific year of Ford Escort was built on the same frame as the Mustang he had seen no reason why he couldn’t take out the old four banger and replace it with a more modern performance aluminum block v-6 engine with turbos.  The result was something that looked like a run of the mill beater car but drove like a bat outta hell.

 

                They crossed the town in the early afternoon traffic in Oceanside just north of San Diego.  Luckily the roads were relatively clear before three or four pm.  Relative for Southern California that is.  Just a fine easy pace while they continue to chatter away until they pulled up.  Outside of the old condo style apartment Chris rented was parked a mid eighties Honda Valkyrie motorcycle and a mid two thousands Chrysler Sebring.  The condo itself had nice landscaping and a red front door deep set in a cream colored exterior.  The paint was starting to peal… again.  After a quick parking job one house over Nick and Felix walked to the front door and noted Malachai’s newer reliable mountain bike leaned up against the wall.

 

                James opened the door and loomed over the two of them with his arms folded and a cross express expression on his face.

 

                “Call the Brute Squad!”  Nick hollered past the larger man into the house.

 

                To which James answered “I’m on the Brute Squad.”  Complete with grin and bad accent.

 

                In almost as bad an accent Nick continued the almost ritualized commentary “You Are the Brute Squad?”

 

                “I swear you two..” Felix stated more than a little annoyed as he pushed inside past and slightly underneath the two larger guys.

 

                “Hey!  There is Adorable Murder Munchkins!”  Malachai said from the couch as he steered his kart on the video game he still happened to be playing.  His Slavic accent understandable even if he still often talked in a sort of pidgin vocabulary at times.

 

                Felix shot him a glance cross wise as if to say ‘Et Tu Malachai? Et Tu?’ as he walked into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge.

 

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End Prologue iii

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