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MAG.E 2
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MAG.E 2.adf
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35
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35
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Text File
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1977-12-31
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6KB
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151 lines
@3 -----------------
@5 GAMES @1 written by @4SWORM
@3 -----------------
@1 The two men stood facing each other, thirty feet seperating them.
The light in the warehouse was dim, but bright enough for the
features of the opponents to be made out.
The man nearest to Jaze was tall, dressed in a leather jacket,
dark trousers and a black hat, pulled to an angle. His back was
turned to Jaze.
The other man, who's features could barely be made out, had a
youthful face, and wore dark, casual but smart clothing. He was
twenty or so centimeters shorter than the nearest man.
"Hi there, big guy," he called. "Been a long time, huh?" Jaze saw
the nearest man's head nod.
"Yes, indeed, Andrew. A very long time since last time."
"Hey, no need to rub it in, man. This time I'm prepared."
"That is what you assured me last time," quietly reminded the
first man.
"I remember," nodded the one called Andrew, "but this time, I got
something new." He shuffled his feet a little. "Hey Thoron," he
looked up, suddenly serious, "you're not still, uh, annoyed at me for
that little trick last time, are you?"
Thoron shook his head slightly. "I don't believe so," he replied
in the same, even tone.
Andrew nodded vigorously. "Yeah, that's cool, 'cause it's was
just, you know, to give me a little help, huh?"
"Very well, Andrew." Thoron suddenly leapt off to his right,
behind some red iron barrels, pointing a small, black something at
Andrew. Shafts of green light shone out of the device, travelling
through the air silently, but smashing head sized, devastating holes
in the walls, barrels, pallets and struts holding up the structure of
the warehouse.
Andrew, however, had thrown himself to the floor almost immediately
rolling to his left, and had disappeared behind a stack of metal
boxes.
"Goddam, Thoron," he shouted, "gimme a warning, huh?"
"Andrew," answered Thoron, edging around the side of the barrels
which would give a clear line of fire at the other, "that is the
whole point, my friend."
"Yeah, yeah," came a muttered reply, along with scuffles and the
sound of movement.
Thoron had now just reached the edge of his cover, when Andrew
popped up above his cover and fired a small, gun twice in Thoron's
direction and then dropped down again. One of the shots whanged
against a barrel, and one splintered the concrete in front of him.
"A bullet firing gun?" called Thoron, with a hint of amazement, or
perhaps disgust, in his voice.
"Hey," came the shouted reply, "I do my best. Revolver's all I
could get my hands on at short notice." A lasershow of green played
across the blockade of boxes that was the other man's cover. Metal
melted, ran and fused as it cooled.
Andrew had completed his journey around the back of the wall of
containers, and peered round to the view of Thoron's back. Aiming
carefully, Andrew sighted along the barrel and squeezed slowly on the
trigger.
"So, my friend," started Thoron, as the device he had placed
momenteraly beside him shattered into tiny pieces under the force of
a lead bullet.
Thoron froze, slowly stood and turned to face his victor. His
face, of indeterminable age, was covered in small cuts from the
shrapnel from the destruction of his gun.
"Ah," he said quietly. Andrew warily moved left, his gun still
aimed at the other's chest, and pulled something from his pocket. It
was vaguly gun shaped.
"You know how hard it is to get slugs for this?" he asked,
slightly more relaxed now. More cocky. "I got four," he informed, not
waiting for an answer, "and some bastard stole one from me the other
day." This promoted a slight smile from Thoron.
Andrew stuffed the gun in his pocket and gestured to the other
weapon he had in his hand. "I did lie about it being the only thing I
had, though. Wouldn't you?" A nod. "Sure you would. Ok, man. Anything
you got of value, I would just love to take off you before you go.
Know what I mean?"
Thoron reached slowly into a jacket pocket. "Money," he listed
articles as he took them off his person and dropped them in front of
him. "Bullets - should come in useful for you, Andrew. Zuccunberg
ciphers, a few roms, and this." He held it up. "It was constructed by
a good friend of mine. Sanders. You've heard of him. Clever chap. It
has a fifty meter radius and a ten megawatt feedback ratio. I set it
for a fifteen second delay, and you've had fourteen."
The last second was spent by Andrew running the sentence through
his head. And he started to grin, "Stuart, you son of a," he began,
and then his weapon started, after it overloaded, by evapourating the
moisture in his hand, which went brittle and then charred, closely
followed by his arm and the right side of his body, which was then
blown across the width of the warehouse. All in a fraction of a
second, of course.
The hollow boom of the blast echoed around the warehouse for a
second or so, to be replaced by silence. From the charred, bloody
mess that lay against the wall, partway through one of the large, now
broken, windows, came a blue glow. Tiny sparks of blue light twinkled
and ran along the lines of the shattered body. These floated upwards,
fading out at the height of about ten meters.
Thoron stood, for a moment, before striding towards Jaze, in the
direction of the doors. "Mess around with a high prived player,
wouldn't you Andy?" Muttered the man, "Asshole. I told him to wait
until he gets some experience, some good weapons. Shit. Well, you'll
be back won't you Andy? Nutter." Thoron walked faster in the
direction of the door. He came abreast of Jaze, stopped, turned and
looked directly at him. "Are you having fun yet?" he asked. "I sure
as hell -"
The scene froze, faded and faded back up to a large room, which
reminded Jaze of a hotel foyer.
"I'm sorry," apologised the same gentle female voice that had
welcomed him, "your time limit at Guest status has run out. If you
wish to join the game, then please leave your details in the guest
book at the desk. Otherwise, thank you for your interest."
Turner ripped the headset off, and looked at Roberts, for a moment
speechless. He shook his head for a moment and finally managed to
force out a few words.
"Amazing." He proclaimed. "Godamm amazing!"
"It's one of the less powerful systems," replied Roberts. "I
thought you'd played a MUG before?"