PART XLIII - GREEN MEN on TRAMS

The Nameless One jr hopped on the street car with about fifty green fuzzy men. The car started along the Martian Canal.

"Where to, kid?" the driver telepathed.

"Uh, the place where... where my father is..."

"And where might that be?"

"Don't you know?"

"Maybe. Does he have a name?"

"No."

"Right, kid. What's your name?"

"I don't have one... cos, I'm the Nameless One jr."

"I see. Dad would be the Nameless One then?"

"Right."

"Well, I don't happen to know where he might be, or even who he might be."

"He once told me that no matter where you are... You're always here."

"On Mars?"

"No... Where you are?"

"On Mars."

"No. It's hard to explain."

"It's not easy to listen to, either."

"Yeah... well, will you help me find my Dad?"

"Look, kid, I got a job to do. I can take you to the station."

"Okay."

"Fine. The fare's a fuzzy bottle cap."

The Nameless One jr reached into his pocket. "What colour fuzz?"

"I like red, myself."

"Here."

"Thanks." The driver ate the bottle cap and left for the station.

Nameless One jr. moved to the back of the street car. He sat down between two rather large Martians. One looked at him with 12 of his 74 eyes and felt the need to stare. The other had a huge hole in the top of his head and no mouth below the nose. He didn't seem well liked since other riders threw scrap paper and garbage into this hole. He never moved though.

"Excuse me... have any of you... seen my father?"

The Martians wiggled their fingers. A mini TV popped out of the ceiling and said, "I can help you, but I need to be cleaned first."

"Oh.... how much ya pay me?"

"I won't flood your body with cancerous rays."

"Oh. Okay." The Nameless One jr began cleaning the TV.

"The Nameless One is currently under the surface of the planet, investigating some strange machinery. It is impossible to reach him because some Syrius mercenaries are holding the elevators hostage."

"But, why?"

"They want all vertical tunnels to be freed of obstructions."

"But why?"

"Because they are stupid."

"But Why?"

"Genetic deficiencies and a bureaucratic education system. Thank you for the cleaning. This unit is now going off line." The TV disappeared into the ceiling.

Nameless One jr. got off the transport at the station in Kornoch on the west side. There he purchased an environment suit, and started toward the tunnels that would take him below the surface.

Nameless One jr. climbed over the rocks and dunes. One of the shafts came into sight and he picked up his pace. He approached a group of mercenaries of which he knew nothing. This should surprise no one, since the Nameless One jr didn't actually know much of anything.

They came from one of the northern regions that was designated for the original settlers of the area, and really only knew how to fight. They were not very educated, and most of them suffered from nervous distention. This didn't start until a blender was accidentally left within their camp. Many of them spent endless hours trying to teach it how to flatulate with the confidence of an Ooorg and blame it on somebody else in the room. They were truly barbarians.

The Nameless One jr. walked up and said, "Do you know where my father is?"

The mercenaries looked at each other, shrugged, and pulled out their clubs. The Nameless One jr. shrugged and picked up the ground, rolled it up over them, and turned it into a beach ball and bounced them down the tunnel.

After a while, the Nameless One jr. got tired of dribbling them, and he left the ball on a boulder. The boulder got hungry and ate the ball, but got indigestion and exploded in twenty years. The boy didn't know about this, and he kept looking for his father.

PART XLII - DARKNESS DESCENDS on the DARK ONE and HE is LOST

Thunder roared. Lightning flashed. The castle shook and groaned in the storm. Everything was black.

The Dark One rummaged through the drawer. "The Thousand Hells of Mein Kampf, where did I put those damn matches?! Of all the times for the power to go out..."

From the darkness a voice asked, "Why does the Dark One need matches?"

"Because I can't see..."

"Hmmm. The Dark One can't see in the dark. Intriguing."

"I'm in the dark and you find it intriguing... who in Acheron are you?"

"You're avoiding the subject. How do you propose to solve your problems if you won't stick with them?"

The Dark One rummaged for his matches.

"It helps if you talk about these things," the voice said.

"Enough! Be gone!" The Dark One unleashed his full power on the voice. He went back to the drawer.

"That was hardly a friendly or trusting action. Are you aware of your hostility?"

"You fool, I AM hostility!"

"Very good! Go with that! How does this make you feel?"

"HOSTILE!" The Dark One attacked again, destroying the kitchen and igniting the lost matches. "ARRRGH!" He blasted the rubble away.

"Destruction comes easily for you," the voice said conversationally. "This indicates insecurity and underlying feelings of being threatened. I wonder what the root of that might be?"

The Dark One stalked off and bumped into a wall.

"Oohh, silent treatment. Predictable, I'm afraid, and only really effective if I need your responses..."

"Cut the pop psychology, you... whatever you are."

"Ah, that's where you are wrong."

"Silence! I know amateur analysis when I hear it."

"You didn't really expect something deep, did you? Consider what I have to work with..."

"I would destroy you if I could but see!"

"You are doubly blind, and your threat is empty."

"Why?"

"In order to be destroyed, I must first exist."

"If you don't exist, why am I talking to you?"

"Perhaps you should ask your analyst. I'm not in a position to comment, or do anything else for that matter."

"You were just analyzing me damnit! Now you can't comment?"

"I can't have been analyzing you. I don't exist. The logic should be clear, even to you."

"If you don't exist and I DO exist, how the hell can you be talking to me?"

"Who says I'm talking? Are you hearing voices?"

"I'm hearing you whatever, the hell you are."

"My, aren't you pig headed. Why do you persist in asking me questions when I am not real?"

"Because you wouldn't leave me alone."

"But you are alone."

"I can't be sure in the dark!"

"Well, then, let's shed some light on the subject." A lit candle floated out of the darkness.

"Why didn't I think of that? Now if you aren't real and don't exist how can you create a candle?"

"I didn't. The candle was in your dining room."

"How did you light it?"

"Who says I did?"

"Who lit the damn candle?"

"I can't really say, since I'm not real."

"You are a pest!"

"Who are you talking to?"

"Mister non-existent..."

"Oh. Is he present?"

"Fuck off."

"That would be quite a feat, considering."

"Just leave me alone!"

"You already know my answer to that. You really must try to get a grip. It isn't normal to talk to candles."

"Just don't talk to me anymore. Ok?"

"I wasn't talking to begin with."

"What were you doing?"

"I am nothing, therefore I was doing nothing."

"Well if you.... Wait a minute, you are just my imagination! I can't believe I've been arguing with my friggin’ imagination!"

"Ah, progress, but unfortunately incorrect."

"Progress to what end?"

"Well, if you're going to solve your problems, you must face them, right? They won't solve themselves."

"You are a problem and I can't face you."

"Look on the bright side. At least you're aware of your limitations."

"I make limitations. I don't adhere to them!"

"A healthy attitude if I've ever heard one. But of course one must be aware of one's limitations to break them. I think you'll find many of your problems will disappear if you face your inner troubles."

"If you don't exist, you couldn't have a healthy attitude."

"True. But we weren't discussing my attitudes. You're evading the problem again."

"You don't have any attitudes. You DON'T exist."

"Exactly, which makes yelling at me pointless. At any rate, it was your attitudes we were discussing. Do you think them out, or are they raw?"

"You keep saying we! There is only me! I can't discuss anything with myself!"

"That is most discouraging. A good internal dialogue is essential to mental health. Besides, haven't you heard of the Royal We?"

"You can't be discouraged!!!"

"I'm not. I said it was discouraging, I didn't say to whom."

"I'm not talking anymore..."

"Evasion again. If you can't even deal with a non-existent voice, how do you intend to defeat Smith or the AIs? You are crippling yourself from the start."

The Dark One started to whistle and ignore the voice. He blew the candle out in the process. "Shit."

"Brilliant suggestion. You know very well I can't do that."

"What do you non-want, anyway?"

"Nothing, of course. However, if you pay closer attention to yourself, you can probably catch Moon Runner."

"What?! How?!"