So I wrote the next part a while ago. Like I said, too many robots. I wanted to put it up before going away canoing.
I think I was going to call my boat something but I have forgotten.
So Ben drew this amazing picture of Kong here. Doing his thing. He looks good in orange.
I don't know exactly what tool he is holding but I want it badly.
Also the chapters! Maybe it is Chapter 9 or 8. Imma go with 9. Was it parts or chapters? Won't somebody help me. Where the fuck.
I'm dying in a vat in the garage!
- The Egg Party
The Monarchs Chapter 7: Radio Roobios Rudeboys
The thrilling conclusion to the story of the Roobios Rudeboys
By The Egg Party
Emma reacted to the sight of the endless cars. 'This is bizarre. They are of some particularly garish 20th century design.' 'There were no cars on the street. They must all be parked in these ridiculous parking garages. This garage huge.' said Kong as he wandered about the space.
'It is actually twice the size of the prison. For every confusing element of Perseverance you just need to remember what period of humanity they idolise. You have a fair amount to study when you find any sort of connectivity. Perseverance blocks all the more functional information transfer systems so you do not yet have access to Interpedia. However there is plenty of that where we are going. Reading on this particular civilization is pretty interesting.'
As Bacon finished Sigurd let out a groan.
Bacon shifted the weight of Sigurd and took the man completely into his arms. He shook Sigurd and as he felt him rising he asked, 'Buddy? You awake? Walking on your own two feet would be so useful.'
Sigurd unfolded and stood up. He was wobbly to start. As his focus slowly returned he looked around and, seeing the confused faces of Kong and Emma, broke into a huge smile.
‘You like the look of any particular car to use for a getaway? No paradox of choice here. All Fords. It is about as socialist as this town gets. Everyone is equal in terms of how big there car is,’ said Sigurd.
He leaned forward, put a hand on the closest car and announced,
'Revolutionary materials. Legendary durability. For people who depend on their trucks every workday, it comes down to one all-important question: How well do they deliver? At Ford we go a major step further: How can we build trucks that can do that crucial extra mile and over-deliver? Our latest generation of the Ford F-150 is lighter, stronger, more powerful and more capable. It's built on the principle that the best truck for today is the one engineered to meet the challenges of performance, efficiency and dependability long into the future. It's how we've achieved the distinction of being the top-selling truck brand for 629 years now.'
Sigurd bowed after his baffling presentation then continued, 'What a joke. Next generation car. I bet that Foucault gets a full bar from that line alone.’
'Come now. It will significantly easier getting out of here now that you are awake', said Bacon.
Sigurd immediately got to work. Soon enough a small back window was broken to the closest vehicle and entry was achieved. It was a huge red truck with the decal, 'Does this truck make my neck look red?'
An alarm signaled the illegal entry of the vehicle. Sigurd started the car by manipulating(tearing) at the electronic system under the steering wheel. The engine ignited with a roar. As they drove up the exit ramp security personnel were hastily alerted. They began popping out of doors at various points of the incline, all tonguing their lapel radios.
The escapees reached the street. Various cars could be seen emerging from other tunnels along the street. Bacon, at the wheel of the car, was driving with purpose. He sharply turned the truck towards the main town gate, accelerating to the peak velocity.
'I do not want to stress you out but we might not make it back to Privacy. I think it would be more stressful to find this out as if and when we are caught as opposed to while we are escaping. There was not much of a gap in the coordination of the authorities and it is a long drive to the border,' said Bacon. 'We shall see.'
Kong held out a small nub of a joint in what seemed to be an inappropriate attempt to relax the driver. Bacon batted the hand out of his vision.
Sigurd smiled and accepted the offer from Kong. The two then settled into the back seat of the car and Sigurd explained, 'One thing as well. These sons of bitches love a high speed car chase. We are talking about the whole town. It is seen as a cultural event. It is of mix between a destruction derby and the mass migration of a huge land mammal. The helicopters will be launched shortly. Then we are going to make some news,' said Sigurd.
He then sat fixing his hair, a comb appearing in the slimy tentacle. It was a self lubricating process, where the his slime dripped into his long hair. It a strange gleam. He had a public image to maintain for fans. He did not seem to enjoy the task but knew that this publicity could be handled to create a specific legend. It served to spread thoughts of rebellion within Perseverance.
Kong busied himself by looking through any the objects in the trunk. Tool box. Four warm beers. Rope. Three flares. He tried to combine some of the objects but he eventually realised he was only shifting around the four beers .
In the trunk he looked back at the town as sure enough truck after truck began appearing from every conceivable orifice of the town. Rooftops came alive and for a moment the blades of the launching helicopters were the blades of the very city about to take flight.
News copters began the chase. Emma climbed into the rear of the vehicle. Her sight was good for distance and narrowing her feline pupils, she could make out the various news casters. The helicopters joined the burgeoning vanguard of the now dusty Fords.
One strange feature she found was the occasional semi-trailer which were spread amongst the pursuers. The front half of the vehicles were stores which sold a strange array of snacks and magazines. The back half was a serious looking set up used for what looking like fire fighting. The firemen, prior to any car accidents, were making money washing the cars which honked for them to direct their hose. Some needed to keep that new car shine, keep that paramagnetic paint popping.
The road from Perseverance to Privacy was relatively straight. Eironea was a tidally locked planet. It spun like the moon on Earth. Half the surface was in continual night time, the other day light. They followed the lit border. A dark curtain remained to the right for the whole drive.
The majority of the planet lived in the habitable zone on the equator. Both cities were on the rim in order to avoid the harsher environs.
Emma had her eyes set on at the base of the window, keeping low and observing the monotonous view. The early steps to terraform the planet had been the extent of the planetary development. This new garden was neglected.
The Monarch ships arrived on the planet in the wake of the Terranaunts. These hulking metal bullets were fired though space aimed at potential homes. On arrival the core of the Terranaut would transform into atmosphere generators. The official Federation name for the Terranauts was Planetary Oxygen in Situ Interstellar Ecosystem Ships(POXIE ships).
On landing the first localised layers of protective ozone was released around the site. Rapidly the generation of a planetary wide atmosphere began. Sweet, breathable air along with dense pollutants were slowly released. A comfortable, living balance was eventually reached.
Diverse seed banks were then accessed and scattered over the area closest to the POXIEs. Plants were specifically chosen for both the specific planet and the adjacent locations around the landing sites. Any great forest of a newly transformed planet had a metallic mother tree at it’s core.
Emma noticed sparse trees and succulent plants occasionally along the dull vistas of the drive. The planet needed a good deal more work but the Perseverance spent most agricultural time and energy growing absurd amounts of corn. The remaining nature was left to fend for itself.
Any drone robots which may have helped in the propagation of planet life was destroyed.
After taking much of it in they all settled, reassigned with the fact that the pursuers were ready for a long distance chase. They all remained semi-crouched and continued forward. It was gross, they all stunk badly. Prison bad. A toilet in the same room as the bed kind of bad. They talked in the mean time. There was still much to catch up on between the escapees.
It would be still half a day before the herd was within striking range. And so Sigurd went on.
The continued story of The Rubioos Rudeboys
'When my parents received the letter that informed them their only progeny(the one child policy had taken again affect worldwide in an effort to ease evacuation) had been randomly selected for the Monarch Program they were proud as punch. They dipped into their savings and got me even more advanced modifications. I was given a smattering of squid genes along with my Monarch archetype', Sigurd explained. 'Bacon reckoned there was some of dark dolphin genes mixed in somewhere. Like a can of tuna. He reckons that's were I get my intense and uncomfortable sexual energy.
'They were cheap with the mods. The company which was chosen to do the modifications was relatively new and apparently ‘efficient’. In terms of octopus man ability', he said as he waved his limp tentacle around the cabin, 'I work. As for a functional organism I came out fine. I am more resentful over coming out looking like an monster from the planet of badly cooked calamari. My skin is mostly translucent. I am damp all the time. I am the walking embodiment of the worst, the most moist limp, the uncomfortably moist handshake you have ever moistly received.
‘My parents chose octopus due to a deep affinity for the sea. My old man used to love catching squids or octopus when fishing. Also they were huge fans of any damn water sport you could imagine. Both of them especially loved jet skiing and fishing. Mind you by that stage of Earth all the various wet areas around their home were polluted as hell. I would see them skimming skiing though layers of oil and sludge around our house, waving, with their smiling faces flecked with the refuse of generations.
'So they reckon they would get some aquatic advantage for me in my future. And they chose the octopus? Sure I can breathe underwater but that does little good in dry old space.' He sighed. Cleared his throat then passed the talking stick. 'Now, Bacon here is part crab.'
Bacon answered, 'yeah my Father was a chef in the city of Reno. He wanted to give me an element of an animal he respected from years of kitchen work. He chose the crab. He thought it a phenomenal animal, both strong and delicious. It had a special connection for my Father who grew up in Seattle, a city with a thriving seafood business. Crab was one of the cities specialities. Sigurd and I often discuss with confused enthusiasm how both our Parents loved to eat our donor species.'
'Speciesism and all the associated spheres of thinking were not often thought about or discussed around then. They didn't really know what doing when they initially started changing the human make-up. Just unplanned reaction to robotic panic,' interjected Kong, trying to help. But with what?
'Yeah well I guess I can't blame them for that. I personally make bad decisions all the time. I have a host of other things which I can blame them for,' conceded Sigurd.
'Aside from any other past adventures, if we do make it to Privacy then all will be well. I would describe the town but it is an unusual mix of forward thinking combined with many archaic styles and traditions. But it is so much more fun. After spending a good century under Baptist rule the Civil War of Eironea left a large portion of the population to form a new society far from the town of Perseverance,’ explained Bacon. ‘Since then the city and surrounding communities have developed with a very clear ideas of personal liberty. It was a joyful time when the city was being built. It worked in some ways. In others it didn't. One thing can be said aside from the minor issues which come naturally to humanity – It is a damn sight better than anything else on the Rim.'
Sigurd stepped in. 'You'll love it. Comparatively. Once we had our own home we both spent most of our time just learning about as much as we possibly could in order to find out what state the rest of the universe was in. I specifically looked at advancing areas within quantum physics in hopes of finding some convenient way of leaving the planet. After a while we forgot about why we were studying in the first place.
‘On the side we recorded audio logs which we would convert to a radio format and pipe through to welcoming receivers anywhere around the Greater Perseverance Area or GPA as we like to say. We also both agree there is a sound joke in there and one day we will find it. We were trying to entice other civilians to come to the great republic of Anywhere Else. These two hobbies eventually collided and where we produced a form of long distance instantaneously information transmission based around quantum entanglement.
‘The breakthrough we made in this area was the reason that the radio show became so successful. It was the first true quantum radio.’
'The signal, entangled, was sent to a few confused colonists in the neighbouring solar systems of the Federation. Expansion of our listeners was slow but relatively steady. The problem is that traditional communication means were needed in setting up the initial relay stations. Once quantum coherence was then achieved we were sorted. Irrespective the distance the Roobois Rudeboys are now interstellar. We were the first ever form of communication which could transmit simultaneously on two planets. We're fucking huge! After that it all got pretty crazy. We had demands for the new technological frequently. After selling the main concepts to Interpedia we are now flush with dollars. The newly amassed wealth hasn’t effected us greatly. Gives us more downtime to fuck around with the Southerners.'
Bacon began again. 'Soon after the sale to Interpedia we were kidnapped on a covert snatch and grab organised by Foucault. The scary part about it was that the operatives they sent to take us were using modern tech. That means they are making ever increasing exceptions to their anti-technology dogma.
'We have agreed it is a sign that the Baptists want outer relay technology to spout their catechisms throughout the universe. They want the technology as a means to an end. The escape may have avoided some messy torture. So, you know, thanks for that’
Emma and Kong nodded in acknowledgement.
‘The thing is that the Civil War started around a hundred years ago and it hasn't finished yet. The armies of the Pastor Foucault still wage that same war. It would be slightly funny if not for all the death. Their awkward, over the top confidence. Soldiers are still sent to Partition. Partition is the name for the two areas designated as the middle of the two cities, the center point on either side of the rim. They causes a huge ugly mess every five years.
‘The south send men in waves and the drones of Privacy would shoot them dead. The Perseverance population would shower glory on the fallen whilst Privacy would recharge drone batteries. The superior technology of Privacy is devastating. This new information could upset all that damned tradition.
'I think the main point we discovered from the increased radio communication within the local planets was that they are all completely disorganised. The dream was for humans to exit the solar system and become better. The idea of the Federation was created and told to each leaving craft to dispel ideas of loneliness — they were part of a greater human alliance. It was a big old fashion lie.
‘An interstellar community was expected as an outcome of the immigrants on arrival. They merely planted seeds. They grew crops from which the Federation could be built. Any additional resource which wasn’t used for evacuation was used in infrastructure such as the space highways, terranaughts, etc. There is no interstellar government. The more we thought about it, the little sense it made. How would they have achieved any sort of organisation?'
Kong slowly coming to terms with the new information asked, 'So who made the border robots which are spread through the galaxy?'
'I have talked about this before with Sigurd many times. Perhaps they are from one or two very sophisticated planets we have yet to encounter. There a shit tonne of places to check out. I reckon it was a group of the planets which made up the greatest intellect of humanity. Perhaps a few of them have created a means of such organisation but we are yet to hear about it. I think that the Earth based organisations might have had problems by choosing the right mix. Planets full of science but no creativity. None that would be allowed to flourish properly'.
Before any more could be said shots began sounding out all around them.
Around 150 vehicles were within shooting distance of the car. Though superficially identically this automotive vanguard were clearly the mechanically superior. They emerged and had been gaining ground on the escapees for a few hours. Guns poked out of passenger and driver window alike and bullets began ringing out, bullets aimed at absolutely everything. The following pack copied the front rank shooting and hooting. With accompanying the gunshots, distant explosions sounded. Gun fire was incidentally tearing their ranks apart. Unnecessary bullets hitting friendly engines, drivers, fluffy dice alike.
Kong, bouncy and flexible as usual, was squeezing around the huddled bodies and having brief and frustrating conversations with the other passengers. He positioned himself near Bacon's head and inquired, 'So where are we at? They might want to take us alive. They are so all over the place that choice might not be within a realm of possibility.'
'Well. I was going to leave it as a surprise but I might as well just tell you. I didn't tell anyone else because they're keeping low , avoiding danger. No extra stress is necessary right now. I don't get it at all but my plan is to drive into the mouth of that fucking thing,' he said as he pointed over the wheel.
Kong peeked up and across the low desert scrub. There was an enormous shimmering monkey head in the distance. It was around two hundred meters tall. The mouth was open in a terrific smile.