Game Geek Issues 25

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Game Geek, Issue 25, Jan 2012

An Avalon Games Product, All rightsreserved, Version 1.0, 2011

All comments, suggestions andcontacts can be made at…

Avalon Games,[email protected]

Or visitAvalon Games at…

www.avalon-games.com

Some game design, artwork and layoutby Robert Hemminger

Cover by Michael Wolmarans

Some art by Sade, LPJ and Art Fantasy

Contents

Musing of the Avalon Stogie .................................................................................................Behind the Game,

Panzer Leader …... ......................................................................................................Coral Throne

Interlude XVI ..............................................................................................................Avalon Pathfinder ................................................................................................................Multi-Verse …………,,,…….…………....................................................................................Dept 13 Comic, Issue #10 ……………………………..……………………………………..…..Bomber Joe and the News ...................................................................................................Avalon Models ...................................................................................................................Battle Axe …….……….….......................................................................................................Arcana ………………………………………………………………………………………………

Reviews ..................................................................................................................................Cool Stuff ...............................................................................................................................What s New ............................................................................................................................Free Stuff ………………………………………………………………………………..……….….

Page 2Page 3

Page 6Page 12Page 14Page 15Page 20Page 48Page 53Page 55

Page 58Page 60Page 61Page 64

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Why I love Fantasy Art more than Sci-Fi? It’s hard to say at times, but I do. Give me a big barbarian swinging a swordith a half nude woman by his side any day. Ya the Frazetta fan in me still sweats when I see one of his images.tarships and space bugs are ne but I ip over dragons and elves, demons and witches. Wizards are a favorite of mine.

antasy opens more doors in my imagination than Sci-Fi. Maybe it's because I nd Sci-Fi to be too technical, too rooted the modern age and what we think the future will be. Fantasy is about myth, adventure and imagined terrors.

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Panzer Leader

The very first game I played was Panzer Leader, which my Dad brought homeone day. I've talked about the impact this had on me in other musings, so youcan go back and read those for more details. The game is a blast though, and I

just picked up a copy at the local game store which was for sale. Just holdingthe game in my hands brought back a lot of great memories.

Panzer Leader was the sequel to Avalon Hill's Panzerblitz game. Like a lot of

the games of its time, it was a tactical, platoon-level, hex-and-counter, boardwargame. The action in the game depicted battles during WWII between tank

and infantry units on the Western European front. It features 4 map tiles, which could be puttogether in a variety of ways. The 20 scenarios covered various battles from the Normandycampaign or the Battle of the Bulge. Two of the scenarios cover the amphibious assaults onOmaha and Gold beaches and include special rules for naval fire. The rules were clean and easyto understand with just the right level of complexity for my young mind to handle.

In many ways Panzer Leader was my gateway drug into a life of gaming and game design. Ican remember to this day sitting down with a blank piece of paper and drawing out a large hexgrid so I could make up my own map boards.

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Looking for stuff on the web I found these links for the game

2XS Industries offers all sorts of fun stuff for the game.(http://www.2xsindustries.com/Panzerstore.html)

Here you can find new scenarios, counters, and hex boards - so really great stuff.(https://www.msu.edu/user/storto/pbcounts.htm)

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Coral Throne

Chapter XVI

Isadora sat in the small garden under her balcony, thesun's heat falling down upon her. She thought it was abit warm today, hard to believe it would be winter soon.She had brought her book down to the garden hoping torelax and take her mind off her troubles with Sammual.The quiet little garden had done little good though.Sammual and Kimn had taken their ship out to seayesterday to scout out the location of the pirate's eet,Sammual saying he would be gone a week at the most.Isadora was still upset by his leaving once more; of latehe was always rushing off here and there. Did he notknow the two of them had things to work out and that hisleaving was not making matters better? They had barelyspoken to each other since the last ght between them,and now he was running off again, that fat Kimn at hisside. This made her madder then anything else. She wasSammual's wife, and she should be the one beside him,not that rude pig Kimn. She had asked to accompanythem on the patrol, but Sammual said no, that and a lightkiss the last she had from him before he departed.

She sighed, maybe it was for the best, maybe theyneeded a bit of time between them right now. Theirdifculties of late could just be a little bump in the road,after all every marriage had such highs and lows. Thiswas just one of the lows she hoped.

Picking up her book she began to read some more.Aribum's diary was interesting, if a bit long winded attimes; still she had been studying it more and more oflate, looking for clues to the man's secret project. Shehad gather some of those clues already. She was nowsure there was more then one entrance to the hiddenmaze located under the palace. She was also possitivethat one of them lay hidden in the palace basement. Thetrouble was she had yet to nd time to search the vastchamber. Maybe today she thought lazily, stretching abit. She had already made a trip down to the lowest oorof the palace yesterday, but the sheer size and mess of theplace left her little choice but to return another time,better prepared and with more time on her hands.

Isadora then sat up straight, the thought of time bringingher back to reality. She just remembered that she hadbeen invited to tea with the queen, today, now! Gods shethought as she stood up, what time was it? Rushing offshe had to turn right back around and collect her book,which she had left on the marble bench. Figures she

thought, if you're late you end up doing things that makeyou that much later.

Hurrying out of the garden and back into the palace,Isadora walked as fast as she could without running,making her way up several staircases and down hallways,guards saluting her as she moved past. Some she saidhello too, those she was the most familiar with, butothers she just nodded to as she rushed by. Isadora hatedto be rude, but she was in a hurry and already late,worried at what sort of impression this would make upon

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he queen. This was the rst time she had been ofciallynvited to sit with the queen, and now she was screwing

all up. Gods woman, she scolded herself, you haveothing to do all day but sit around, you would think Iould keep a simple appointment.

Coming to a large chamber set with expensive furniture,sadora made her way through the room and out onto the

alcony to the back. She looked onto the sea, mountainsf clouds above slowly oating by, a few sea gulls yingast on the hot thermal winds. Quite the view Isadorahought to herself. Looking about she saw the queenitting on an expensive, overly stuffed chair. She was

warped in several blankets and a shawl, but seemed to belert and observant, in fact the queen seemed much morelert and healthy then the other day when the two of themad talked in the queen's bed chamber. Maybe she'smproving Isadora thought.

sadora bowed to the queen. “Sorry I am late,” shepologized, bowing again, nervous.

The queen smiled at Isadora's rushed entrance. “I wasust going to send an armed guard to go look for you. Ihought you might be engaged in battle with hoards outf the three hells or something. That after all seems isour most favorite past time.” Sitting next to her mother,ulia giggled at the queen's jest. Isadora paled at theomment though, not sure if it was a joke or a rebuke ofer recent confrontations. Bowing once more Isadora

moved over to take a seat next to Julia who poured out aup of tea for her as she sat down. Over near the bal-ony's railing sat Lessiter and Tommus, both engaged inboard game that Isadora was not familiar with. Both

men sat across from the other, moving small colorstones on a marble board marked with many little circles.eemed the goal was to hop as many of the foe's stone asou could, collecting them as you did so, without losingny of your own stone in the process. Isadora noted thatessiter had gathered far more of Tommus's stones andeemed to be winning.

Nearby Paula stood listening to a lecture from her tutorMartin. “Now Paula, concentrate on the candle, gatherhe energies within yourself like I showed you,” the elderentleman instructed.

sadora sat and watched as Paula looked hard at the unlitandle on the small table before her. Her face grew hardnd her eyes lost their focus, but nothing else happened.eaning over to Julia as she continued to watch, Isadora

whispered. “What are they doing?”

“Martin is trying to get poor Paula to gather her will andthen to set the candle aame with her mind,” informedJulia. “It's a simple magical trick, but difcult to master.Often it is used as a training tool for development ofmore difcult magical skills.” As Julia continued, asmirk came over her face. “Course poor Paula herecannot get past the rst portion of the exercise, she just

hasn't learned how to tap that inner strength of hers.”

“She will nd it,” said the queen sitting next to Julia. “IfI remember right, it took you several weeks to performthe same simple trick.”

“Keep trying,” encouraged Martin as Paula continued tostare hard at the candle. Finally Paula gave up with ahuff and stalked off, to sit next to Isadora.

The queen pattered her youngest daughter's hand in

consolation as she settled down in the chair. “Don'tworry dear, you will master it soon enough.”

“Will I?” Paula asked, disappointment in her voice. “Iwonder sometimes,” she pouted dramatically. “Maxisand Sammual can do such wonders with their magic andhere I cannot even light a simple candle's wick.”

“Your brothers have had years to prefect their craftyoung lady.” Martin offered as he moved over to watchthe game of strategy being waged between Lessiter andTommus. “They are magicians of incomparable power.”

“I have noticed that you call Sammual and Maxismagicians?” Isadora asked of the old wizard. “Tommusthough only refers to himself as a conjurer. Are they notall of them wizards?”

“While the arts of magic all use the same basic laws ofcause and effect,” Martin offered, “the use of theseenergies and the ways they are fashioned by the casterare many.”

“And so there are many different titles that a mage cancarry,” Paula added in. She was a relieved to now beable to answer a question and show off her educationafter the recent defeat with the candle. “Tommus is askilled conjurer, and can fashion magical creatures andsummon forces of elemental matter. Julia here is asorceress, and skilled in illusions and the magical of themind, as is our mother, and so too I hope someday too beas well.”

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he wrote and what he feared. He had been growing moreand more fearful in his writings, worried about whatwould become of him after he nished the King's work,especially the hidden labors that none knew of under thepalace.

The queen smiled just then, clearing her throat. “Enoughwith history lessons, as I have most of you here, I shall

use the time to make an announcement.”

All turned to see what Katren had to say, Julia puttingdown her teacup while Paula sat up straighter in herchair.

“As you all know,” the queen began, “the issue of thesuccession has become more and more important thesedays. I have thus nally come to a decision on who willsit the thrown after me.”

All grew quite at this announcement. Isadora sat mute,fearful that the queen would say Sammual's name, notsure what to do if such did to occur.

“I thus will make the announcement tomorrow before thefull court,” the queen said, coughing at the end. Isadoralet out a little sigh; the moments tension a bit too much.

“Now though I wish to talk a nap,” Katren said.“Lessiter, would you help me to my rooms please andprepare my medicine.” Throwing off one of the blankets

as Lessiter walked over to her, she tried to stand up, butneeded his help in the end. She hobbled off the balconyand back into the palace leaving the rest to sit in thesunlight.

All sat mute for a monument, till Tommus piped in.“Well, who will it be, any guesses?” All continued to sitsilently, each in their own thoughts as he laughed at theirworried concerns.

*********

Isadora crept about the dim maze of the basement,walking around small mountains of old furniture, mostcloth drapped and stacked high. Several walls were laidout to create separate section within the basement, but itwould appear that after so many years, any planning hadbeen lost and now anything new was just dropped wher-ever. This created quite the confusion, small walkwayslying here and there, all merging into each other to createits own labyrinth, dust and cobwebs all about. Lookingover dusty barrels and cloth-covered furniture Isadora

And Sammual?” Isadora asked turning back to thedies at her table.

Sammual and my Maxis are the most powerful type ofages,” offered the queen over her cup of tea. “They

an work all forms of magic and have few limits to whatey can do. They thus carry the title of Magician or

Wizard, as they prefer.”

give up!” Tommus declared just then, dropping thest of his pieces onto the game board. “Someday I'll

eat you,” he said as he stood up. Meanwhile Lessiterontinued to sit and smile at his victory. “Practice allou wish little brother, you will never win,” Lessitermugly offered.

tanding up Tommus walked over to the table where theoman sat and poured himself a cup of tea, adding a few

weet cakes to a plate and then heading over to theiling to sulk and feast. Julia meanwhile lifted Isadora's

ook from the table where she had laid it. “Are youading this?”

Yes, I took it from the library,” Isadora replied.Barnibus, the head librarian, said it would be alright.”

What is it, some love story?” Julia asked, ippingrough the pages, stopping at one of the drawings to

ave a closer look. Isadora rolled her eyes at the mentionf a romance story. She had tried to read such a work

nce and in the end had to put it away, bored to tears bye dripping prose. “No, it is the dairy of lord Aribum,”adora said to Julia. As she spoke she watched Lessiterut of the corner of her eye. “He was the architect thatesigned and build this very palace.”

ulia then rolled her own eyes, dropping the book backn the table, done with looking through it. “Gads, whyad that?” Isadora noticed that Lessiter's interest in the

onversation remained neutral, but that he was keepings ear turned to hear what was being said. Cagy bastard

he thought to herself. He won't give away anything, notere before all of the others in the family. She had laide bait though, now she would have to see if he wouldke it.

Actually,” Martin added at this point, walking over toe table himself, picking up the book, “Lord Aribumas quite the interesting man. A skilled architect anduilder, he was hanged by king Morrus right after heomplete the construction of the palace.” This struckadora as a bit sad, she had not known of Aribum's fate,ut now many of his words became more clear in what

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Aribum was a genius, that was for sure she thought toherself. Feeling along the wall she found the hiddenlatch, just as the royal architect had spoken of in hisdairy. With a small push she unleashed the latch and thewall swung open at her slightest touch. Peering withinshe looked down upon a slim set of stone steps, droppingoff into darkness. By the hells she cursed, she had notthought of bringing a candle, Lessiter must have used hismagic to light the way she mused. She would have tocome back later it seemed with some this time with somelight.

Closing the door Isadora marked the dust on the oorwith her hand, making a note of where the doorway waslocated for when she returned.

Leaving the basement by the back stairs she walked pastthe kitchen where she stopped to asked for dinner to bedelivered to her apartment. Heading off she then walkedthrough the queen's thrown room, which itself lay in themiddle of the palace proper. The chamber was huge, setwith rows of columns along both walls, each pillarreaching up to support the domed ceiling. The queen'sthrown dominated the chamber, itself carved from asingle massive chunk of pink and white coral. Isadorastill marveled at the magnicently carved chair showingdolphins, sh and other mystical sea creatures as they

played in the sea. A red silk pillow was used to softenthe seat for the ruler of the realm. Here the kings andqueens of the realm had sat and ruled, offering judgmentand law before their gathered people. Here the might ofAvieragon was gathered, this was what they were allghting over she thought as she passed the thrown on herway out of the chamber. As she moved along in her ownthoughts, she ignored all those that gathered there,ofcials of the realm and courtiers, many on their wayhome as court had closed and all the business of thepalace was coming to an end for the day. Still she

noticed as merchants and court ofcials gathered in littlegroups to discuses this and that, no doubt the rumor ofthe queen naming a successor on everyone's lips. Isadoraalso noticed as she passed that several within thechamber watched her move by. She wondered if theywere discussing her possible rise to the thrown besideSammual. She thought too what it would be like, if sheeven wanted to sit it next to him.

arched for the hidden doorway. She knew the doorthe hidden catacombs was located somewhere

ound here, but she just could not nd it. Aribum'sary had nally offered her a valuable clue, a meansopen said door, but she still did not know were the

amned thing was. Finally she pulled up an old chairnd sat down, tired, dirty and dejected. She wasorried as well, this distracting her from the search.he queen's announcement at tea was sitting heavy oner. What if the queen declared Sammual the heir?

What would that do to their marriage? He wasready upset with her, what would he be like if shet next to him as queen of this realm. She could not

o slinking around the palace as she was doing now,at was for sure. Could she though take a life of itting around doing needlepoint with the court's

any handmaidens, gossiping and worrying about theext ball and this years fashions. Isadora shivered ate thought, it somewhat repugnant to her. She hadent her whole life being active, doing as sheeased; she had never been a woman to sit around

nd wait for life to come to her. No she had alwaysken it by the bridle and ridden life, enjoying it to thellest.

Was that all going to come to an end now? She hadondered at times before meeting Sammual whether

he might end her days as some old maid. Never toarry, no children to hold, no one to warm her bed iner winter years. She had lovers before, but nevernyone that had stolen her heart, not till Sammualame along that it.

adora stopped her daydreams just then as she heardn odd noise coming from the wall before her. Sheatched as the wall formed a crack and then began toove, opening. She sat shocked for a moment anden rushed up, ducking behind a cloth covered table

nd the chairs that sat atop it. She just made it behindover as Lessiter stepped out of the wall and headedut of the basement, the wall closing behind him onceore as he departed. She sat quiet as the man left,en crept out to study the wall before her. Damn sheought, if she had not seen Lessiter open the

oorway, she would have never found the damn thing.he wall was perfect once more, no seam visiblehere the door and the wall met.

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“I do no think she will regain her wits,” he offered.

“She seemed to be doing better,” wept Paula. She buriedher head into Tommus shoulder who held her, patting theyoung girl's back.

“Her age has just caught up with her is all,” Lessiter said.

Odd though that she should fall into a coma now Isadorathought to herself, just when she was going to announcean heir. Could one of them have brought this on thequeen, fearful of her coming proclamation?

Heading up stairs she thought on the possibility ofreturning home. Her family would take her backwithout a comment. Some had worried that she wasmaking a mistake in running off with Sammual. She ofcourse had not thought so at the time, but now here shewas thinking of running away herself. No she thought, Ilove Sammual, I could no more leave him then I could

change the color of the sky.

As she headed towards her apartment she watched asJulia rushed up to her out of her own apartment nextdoor to Sammual's and hers.“Mother has fallen terribly ill,” Julia said breathless asshe rushed past. Isadora stood stunned for a moment,and then hurried after.

“When?” Isadora asked as she caught up with Julia.“An hour ago, her attendant tried to wake her for dinner,

but she continued to lay asleep, unmoving. Themessage was just brought to me,” Julia said, worryetched on her face.

“Can you not cast some spell to wake her?” Isadoraasked as the two of them hurried up a set of stairs anddown another hallway.

“No, Lessiter has tried everything,” Julia said as theyentered the queen's bedroom. “Even Maxis' magiccannot offer aid once the body has worn itself out.

There by the bed stood Paula and Tommus, the rst toarrive as the news spread about the palace. Julia rushedup, pushing the two aside and taking the queen's hand inher own. Isadora stood off to the side watching as thethree spoke together. She remembered her ownmother's death some years back, a fever taking herduring one of the hard winters. She had cried wet tearsand mourned her lose, but like all folks in the north shehad come to terms with the loose and moved on.

Lessiter walked in at that point, calm and collected, helooked at Isadora as he passed, but no hint that he hadseen her in the basement on his face. She was sure nowthat he did not know she had been spying on him, hesecure in his false belief that his secret was safe, it stillonly his own.

Pulling a small vile from his belt pouch he dripped threesmall drafts into the slightly open mouth of his mother.Her breathing slowed and she seemed to relax some, butremained comatose. He then turned to the other.

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Earth Master

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Multi-Verse

How about have seven deck plates tile for use as starships, sci- basesand or just about anything else you can think of. You can nd all seven

in the free section of this issue.

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15/80Bad Baby Productions, 2011 Art and Story by Robert Hemminger

Explain to me why weare taking a train to

New Mexico?

The Nazis occupation ofthe U.S. makes it near

impossible to get across thecountry by car as there are

too many check points.

I just hope we find whatwe are looking for out in

the desert.

This train is a direct andless dangerous, and willcause less focus on us as

we go.

Yes and if we could some how findthis psychic agent and aid it, we

might be able to turn it into a greatasset.

The psychic cry I felt wasvery powerful.

I'm still not sureProfessor, it was so alien.

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So you have said, butwhat was alien about it?

Can you explain?

Not much. All I felt was pain,shock and sadness, and an

overpowering need for help.

And it came from this place inNew Mexico, Roswell?

Yes, that I'm sure of.

Seems like a strange

place to find such apowerful mind.

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Shh, we can talkmore later.

Herr Professor,how nice to see youthat you are riding

on this train.

Maxx is the name. Adolf Maxx, of

the Gestapo.

May I ask where you areheaded?

To my sister's house,she is ill so I'm going

to pay a visit.

How nice of you. Familyis important, yes?

Yes it is.

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And where doesthis ill sibling

Out west, New Mexico.The dry air is good for

her condition.Why that's excellent. I too am onmy way to New Mexico. We can

travel together.

WonderfulAnd tell me Professor, who is this lovely

young woman sitting besides you?

Yes mysecretary.

Hum, the pleasure of work, sometimes there are added benefits.

... Secretary.

Come, let us go to the diningcar, I will buy the two of youdinner. We can talk about

your latest work.

This is Jill, she is my...

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We'reScrewed.

Be patientmy dear.

Tell me Professor, how islife in the Resistance?

Good work

Rewarding HerrMaxx, very rewarding

at times.

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You put up a bunch of cams, and you hope and you prayand you make sacrices to your gods-or whatever-hopingthat something happens somewhere in front of one of yourcams. Something you can sell, I mean.

So, there I was in my trailer, currently parked in the hillsof Italy, and I was trolling feeds, like you do, searching fora bit of news that would make my dinner and allow me to

survive another day. Searching, and wishing forsomething more than a just a tidbit, something that wouldget me maybe even an entire week's worth of dinners. Butnot really expecting anything more than the usual.

And then, there it was, blammo! The One Shot.

Up until then, I was buzzing through the feed onhigh-speed, of course. Just spinning through, like you doon any of them, going as fast as your eyes can keep up, sothat you can get through them all in one sitting.

On the street for most of the morning were just a group ofgeezers in dusty robes having a heated argument aboutsomething or other. I didn't slow the feed to listen.Nobody cared about that kind of crap, unless the argumentturned into a ght, and even then only if the ght drewblood. I mean, if you wanted to see a couple of guysarguing and stupidly bashing each other in the head, youcould just go down to your local pub and wait for a littlebit while getting yourself a couple of drinks, right?

But, these geezers weren't even ghting, just talking. Blahblah blah. Fast-forward, fast-forward, fast-forward.

Then this vanilla guy in a vanilla-style grey suit andcarrying a heavy metallic briefcase walks into view. And Iinstantly spin the dial to slow the feed, 'cause somethingabout this guy catches my interest.

Nobody else notices him-this vanilla guy with his metalbriefcase sauntering down the side of the street in thisdusty holy city. But then again, this was SA, so vanillaguys in vanilla suits arriving with heavy metal briefcaseswas something that happened all the time. Nothing specialthere. And I really couldn't say what caused me to peephim. There's no one thing I could put my nger on. Someof us get to the point where we just kind of know, after awhile in the biz, you know?

Anyway, this vanilla guy seemed to have some kind ofemblem on the breast pocket of his suit-jacket, but the rezon the zoom of a needle cam isn't that great, especially on

Bomber Joe and the Newsby A.J. Kenning

tared at it. The fabled One Shot. Right there on myreen. The legendary shot so incredible that it wouldake my fortune, and then I could retire on the earningsom that one shot alone.

ouldn't believe it. Twenty years jockeying vid, untile dream of the One Shot kind of died, you know? Likedoes for everyone.

ut, there it was.

o one but me saw what I saw. No one on vid site, Iean. I don't know why-it was right there, plain as thenglare on a noon feed. But then, they were all justes out there, and Joes haven't got eyes.

ell, yeah, they've got eyes, but they don't got eyes thatey actually use, right?

was hot on site, and the cam was laboring against theght and heat, but it was a good cam and was managingth only a little color distortion and occasional

witch-blind, and that kind of stuff is easily ltered outhile you're boxing up the feed to site it, no trouble.

ourse, these days it was illegal to vid either of thely cities of SA, though. Jail-time illegal. Which meantlling feed off of this cam could see me stuck in an SAison for the rest of my (at that point much shorter)e.

ut, pic-jocks, like me, we don't give any attention toegalities. After all, if someone could make an areaegal to vid, and then the pic-jocks didn't go there, then

vernight every government and corporation in thetire world would suddenly have become illegal to vid,cept by express permission-you know, for fawningess releases and the like. And, if you don't mind myying it-no fucking way. That shit wasn't what ac-jock was. Even the Chain wasn't that. Close, but noten they were that.

o, you put up cams wherever you could, even if it wasegal. I mean, that's how we pic-jocks make our

vings, right?

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I tried several different things to bring it back live, but Iwas no tech, and the feed stayed cold. Pretty quick, Ibegan to wonder if the cam might even be dead, and Iwould just have to write it off (it was kind of old, likemost of my equipage, and the needle cams weren't exactlyknown for their life-spans-but then, what is these days).Only, then I realized what had really happened. I don'tknow how I knew; sometimes you just know, right?

So, I knew that a nuclear device had just been detonated ithe heart of one of the holy cities of SA.

And I had it on vid.

I stared at the empty feed, just stared, hands shaky. TheOne Shot. There on my screen. Fuck.

Was it wrong that I had a hard-on?

*********

The Lux Shot. The Fortune Shot. The Golden Shot.

The One Shot.

It was called all of those things. In the old days, I mean.We still gave it those names, actually, but it wasn't thesame. These days, the One Shot just wasn't going to earnme enough to retire on.

Look, I know what I said earlier. But it was still true, backwhen I rst started in the biz. Times change, though. Andnot always for the better. Even if the names and ideasdon't.

So, let's talk the money talks.

Most days, you sell your feeds to the Indies, and maybealso to a couple of Joes who need it for a book report orsomething, at around a ver a nab, and hope to get a slimhundred out of it. Enough to scrape by. The Chainnormally doesn't buy, since they've got plenty of feed oftheir own, but if you do manage to get something theywant, they pay out ve hundred for blanket use of a singlefeed across all of their one thousand afliates (whichcomes out to about a halfer per afliate, or aboutone-twentieth of what I'd get if the same number of Indiesnabbed it, for those of you who are math-impaired).Which is a steep discount, right? But that's the discountthe Chain demanded, and you accepted because it was vhundred, and ve hundred was ve hundred, you know?You couldn't be turning your nose up at money like that,

not these days, and they knew it.

he ten-years-old models, like I mostly have, so I'm notble to get any kind of detail, just a smearing of goldnd black. Yet, the emblem was in the place whereeople-certain people-put their lodge pin, when they areroud enough to display their lodge afliation onon-lodge days, which is a typical kind of vanilla thingo be.

o, this vanilla guy and his vanilla pin keep moving forfew more steps. Then he turns his back to the cam.he fucker. -Yeah, I curse people out for turning theiracks to my hidden cams. So what?

nyway, this guy just stands there for a long time, and Imost give up on the feed, since there wasn't much to

ee but a sweat-soaked silk suit's back-not an ideal feedo site. But then this vanilla guy sets the suitcase downn the dusty street and, after wiping the sun-sweat fromis forehead, pops it open, the case ipping up right into

am-view over his shoulder.

wasn't an ideal shot, mind you, not by a long ways.ot centered, or in large frame, and blocked quite a bity his shoulder. But you still had some good, primeiew of what lay inside. And what lay inside was aomputer.

ut not just any old fucking computer-this thing was farmore tech than anything I had ever seen, even in my few

limpses of the Chain's rst-stringer equipage. This wasenthouse rig-far above anything even a vanilla silk suithould have been able to afford.

et, this guy had it. And he knew how to use it. In a fewecs, he had the thing up and running and whirring away

something. That, despite a multi-level code entryystem-crazy!

nd then he raises his gaze to the sky and whispersomething in a thankful kind of way. I've got primeanslation gear on my rig, 'cause you need that shithen you're jockeying feed, even though it's damned

xpensive. Well, if you want to be serious, it's what youeed. If you plan on just going around and amateuring itp-you know, like if you just want to be a Chainfliate-then, whatever.

nyway, the trans gear on my comp was right on thisuy, and got every single word pistol clear. "Jesus willave you all." That's what he said. Then this vanilla guyips open a covered button and presses it, and…. Mycreen went cold. Shit!

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The money started stacking up the very moment the feedwas boxed and sited. It was the damnedest, most beautifulthing I had ever seen.

And, really, that should have been it for this sweet tale. Acam placed incredibly brilliantly, and a legendary feedthat upended the entire world. For a decade or two. Ahundred thou fresh in my accounts, and another just like ilikely to come in in spits and drags over the next decade.And the trades booning me a nickname that I wouldforever after be know as-Bomber Joe. (Which doesn'treally work, since I'm a pic-jock, not a Joe, and I don'treally have anything to do with bombs or bombers, either.But, real accuracy isn't how nicknames work, right? Kindof like the news.)

Vid a legendary feed. Box and site. Me rich. Well,rich-ish. That should have been it. No pic-jock asked foranything more than that, and expected a rather lot less.

Anyway, they did after a couple of years on the slog.But, there was something in this event that just wouldn'tsit with me. Something-and I still can't put a name toit-wouldn't let me let it go, even though the job was done.

Now, I hadn't made any conscious decision to storyize thisbaby-I mean, who would? Nobody wanted storyed eventsanymore; they just wanted feed. Nobody in the biz, Imean. So, it was pointless to storyize anything, unless youliked pointlessly wasting your time.

But, there I was, dialing out sends to a few old contactsand a few old biz friends, hearing what there might be outthere to hear. I didn't expend any resources, certainly didnot call in any favors. At least, not then. But I did stick mynose in, you know, and root around a bit.

And I got a lead. A single, bright, shining lead-once it wascleaned up a bit rst.

He was an old gent, used to be in the biz, but he left it to

become a servant in the SA palace, 'cause you could earna lot more money doing that than doing the job of apic-jock. So he said, anyways. But it was probably onlytwice the amount.

I hadn't talked with the guy in fucking ages, ever since hestopped being a stringer getting pics in SA. Apparently,he'd become a pretty senior guy up there amongst theservants. Anyway, this guy tells me he's been chosen to beone of the special few to serve the princes at someimportant meeting they were soon to be having.

o, that's what you got paid, and you could scrape aving out of it, if you had the guts, and the stamina, ande lack of self-respect. And so, you got by, day by day

y day, yet nothing more than that.

ut on this baby, I could charge the Indies one hundreder nab, and none of them would look at me cross-eyedr it. And even the Chain'd loosen the vice on theirallet, a bit, 'cause they wouldn't want the Indies to bee only ones with an important feed like this, so they'd

o for fty thou, easy. Throw in a bunch of interestedoes, and I could get two-fty out of it, easy. And that'sous, keep in mind.

Which is a good sum of money, but not exactly a for-ne, right? Not with the price of equipage these daysead: beer money). You could blow a stash like that inur, ve years, easy. If you weren't careful with youroney, I mean. And the biz didn't really attract peopleho were careful with their money, you know?

ou could try to get more from the Chain, of course.ut try it, and they'd suddenly "nd" it was cheaper toake a real-tech vid of the event, slap one of theiricro-disclaimers at the front, and ignore you

ompletely. And then, since they were genning the videmselves, they could gen it to the optimal emotionalading speed of whatever anchor they had on at anyven moment, which they tend to like better anyway.

ou could try to get out a little more from the Indies,o, and if you were a master marketer, you probably

ould eke out of few more digits. But, a lot of the Indiesouldn't afford more, so you'd be breaking the goodwillf the Indies to get those few extra digits-they who areour bread and butter. The guys who paid you for yourgular feed, and so paid for your day-to-day needsead: beer money). The guys who got you through thead times.

o, $100 and $50,000, baby, and glad you could still getat.

********

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off, with the sound sparking frequently into tinniness. Butclear and understandable, for all that. Old, but serviceable

And what I saw was piles of junk scattered throughout alarge and windowless chamber with a low ceiling. I hadthe sense of an oppressive, if vast, basement-like thebasement of some high-rise tower or some such. But, I

should just mention the impression you get off axed-frame of a portion of a room like that isn't alwaysaccurate.

The 100 Princes were only just beginning to gather.Though, technically there were already over 100 princesthere in that dim chamber, with many more still to arrive.'Cause there were far more than 100 of the famed 100Princes of SA. More like 350, give or take.

And it was all princes, right? - there ain't much lib in SA.

The only women in that royal family are concubines(read: high class hookers) and girls promised off to seal orcommemorate some deal (read: really high class hookers)

So, there were 350 of these guys. They were just calledthe 100 Princes because 100 was such a better number.You know, because 100 is just so nice and round, and rollsof the tongue, while also being so very traditionalsounding. And, more to the point, it was so much easier tohide excess behind such roundness and traditionalness.

See, the Big U sent ten mil annually to each and every oneof its "friends" (read: every single prince) in the SAroyalty. And it was so much more palatable, somehow, foreveryone involved if you kept the spending under a bil(which you did by sending a singleton less than a full tenmil to each of the princes, I was just rounding instead ofusing the actual number of 9,999,999-'cause, you know,that fucker's a mouthful), and that was somehow so evenif you weren't actually keeping the number under a bil, buonly seeming to. (10 mil times 100 princes comes to 1 bil,10 mil times 350 princes comes to 3.5 bil, for those of you

who are really math impaired)

Now, me, I had always thought ten mil a year-free-wouldmake me feel very relaxed, you know? But none of theseprinces (and they all earned far more than ten mil a year;that tenner was just, you know, icing), not one, waslooking relaxed. Instead, they were all looking tense andafraid.

But, who am I to say, right? I've never even seen that kindof money.

ow, I should point out it's fucking rare that somethingke that just falls into your lap. Most guys in politics,ven just peripherally, like servants (especially theeriphery, actually), they won't tell you nothing, unlesss something they want you to know, right? And they'llnly tell it to you in the way they want you to know-meaning, whatever you get out of them is just goingbe the usual political crap, and completely useless as

ood feed. Only idiots, like a lot of the guys in the

hain, would think putting up the soft crap that theoliticals constantly peddled out would make for gooded. Which might explain to you why so much of theork the Chain puts out seems like soft crap. Because,ou know, it is-straight from the soft crap source.

o, you mostly don't go to the politicals, unless you feelke getting crapped on. But this guy, he and I went wayack. We were out there in the eld, really far out there,ou know, and we'd ended up totally screwed over froml fronts, and all we'd had to rely on was each other and

ne other guy to get through. After that, you know, theree of us just had this bond, right? The kind of bondat's just not easy to explain to someone who's never

een dangling out there.

nd then, being a pic-jock never really leaves yourood, I guess. I mean, here it was two decades out sinceis guy had even set up a feed, but he still had all hisd equipment, and not stored away somewhere, but

ept fondly on his shelf in his study. (Yeah, he didn'tve in a trailer anymore; he wasn't just scraping by. He

ad himself an apartment with a study. Bastard.)

ow, I won't say his equipment was all lovingly caredr and in perfect working condition-I mean, he was ac-jock, after all, and even those of us currentlyorking don't exactly keep our equipment in idealpair, you know? Most of our crap-and most of us,ally-tends to have a well-used look. Which is as it

hould be, I say.

nfortunately, though, that did mean I wasn't getting a

ure feed off of this guy's rusty equipage, once he got itp and working. But, pure or impure, it still worked,ght?

was a ster cam, and not a needle, regrettably, so heouldn't just place it anywhere. Which was a given. Theeedle-cams hadn't been invented yet, back when heas a stringer. But he was a good placer, very good,hich is why I'd known him, way back when.

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And in that very moment, the negotiations began-thenegotiations that would decide who would be king of SA.

These negotiations weren't smooth, not by any means. Atmany points, they even seemed to turn violent (theviolence unfortunately obscured from cam-view by the

too-broad back of Mr. Oily). There were even, maybe, afew dead bodies. Never seek the throne of SA withoutbeing able to guard your back, right? Or however the oldsaying goes.

But eventually, the succession talks came to an end, andresulted in the choice of a limp, degenerate, middle-agedguy that I will from here on be calling Prince Cucumber,'cause a cucumber's what he most reminded me of. Sure, Icould have looked up his name, spent a lot of time goingthrough the records of all the SA royalty and listening to

the old feeds, until I at last found out who the fuck he wasBut what the hell for?

'Course, he was about to become king of SA, so Iprobably should have at least thought about caring. But,then again, he didn't actually get to sit on the throne.Didn't 'cause, even though the nal consensus of themeeting had been him, right as he was about to lay claimto the succession, just as he was about to do it, this otherguy up and starts shouting:

"My cousins, have you already forgotten yesterday? …Yesterday the corrupt West dared to attack us! Theyattacked us with the most sinful of their most disgustingtechnologies, that thing which they made a deal with thedevil in order to gain! They did this, my cousins, and inthe face of this most vile of evils, we need a king who canbring us revenge, not another king who can only bring usmore deals with the greedy Western merchants! We need aking, not another businessman!" I'm not real sure if bydevil he meant the big D, or Nazi scientists. Hard to say.Could be either. Though, I suspect the big D, cause he

didn't look the type to cite history, instead of religion, youknow?

But you never know.

This guy was rough, scarred and erce of temper, a realbarbarian. I doubt I need to describe the way this guy said"businessman." I'm sure you've already gured that oneout for yourselves.

Anyway, what I was after here was an ofcial reactionfrom the SA princes about the bombing of their holycity. You know, a candid one, instead of a cold andcanned piece of political shit. But, I wasn't really certainwhat I was after, never having done this kind of thingbefore. I mean, we didn't go out and look for feed. Weust vidded, that's all.

So, I watched, and wondered what the fuck I was doing.

The meeting wasn't so formal as to have a table, buthere were groupings of chairs. Not 350, though, so

some of the assembled junk was turned into makeshiftseating. And, 'cause of that, one broad prince happenedo park himself on an endtable that had once held a

couple of vases and a box, before he removed them, andwhich happened to be right directly in front of my feed.The cam had been placed to vid direct between the

vases, so the clutter that had been there had been norouble, had probably helped to conceal the cam-the

placer was good, like I said-but the back of the broadprince obscured everything. I only had a small crescentview around his edges left to me, everything else wasust back. The back of an incredibly oily prince.

So, feed utterly wrecked, 'cause you had to have picturehese days, I almost gave up and tabbed off the feed.

And I do mean almost-my hand was already starting todepress the button, when the meeting started.

"My cousins, I must tell you…our king is dead," aoud-voiced prince announced from somewhere out of

view in the center of the chamber. "Assassinated." (Istopped pressing the button at that point.) (Assassinationwas how most of the SA kings went, so it wasn't, youknow, shocking. But the bloody removal of worldeaders always made for good feed.) "Today, a new king

must be chosen from amongst us. Yet, the faith of ourpeople has been shaken. Our enemies have struck uswith a terrible ferocity. Thus, the king we choose thisday must be a man strong in his faith. And, my cousins,our new king must also be as wise as the very greatestof our kings of old. And, my cousins, we must chooseour king more swiftly than any of our kings has everbefore been chosen. In this time of great peril, all thesehings must be. Our kingdom must have a strong leader,

and it needs him this very day. And so, we must choosehim now. Are we here so prepared?"

The 100 Princes murmured their assent.

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The Barbarian King raised his hands. "They wereheartless, these men who attacked us! But, my cousins,they were also fools! …They believe us to be cowards.But, they know nothing of who we are! They knownothing of the strength of our bodies! They know nothingof the power of our faith! They know nothing of theerceness of our wills!

"We are a mighty inferno, my cousins! An inferno that has

long lain dormant! But yesterday, they lit the spark! Andnow it is they who will be consumed in the ames!" Heshook his st. "These indels of the terrible and godlessland of…Brazil!"

The basement was shocked into silence. Shocked thattheir new king had gone so far. Shocked at how much hedared-open war with the West.

That's what the silence said. But it was a lying silence.Their new king, back when he was only a humble prince,

often had called for open war with one "decadent" nationor another, and for any number of reasons. So, they had tohave known what they were getting when they made himking. At least, in their heart of hearts, they had to haveknown, and had to have wanted for this very thing tohappen. Either that, or they were complete idiots.

I'd say 50-50 chance either way for each of them.

But then, Prince Cucumber (he who would have beenking) stepped back into the center of the chamber-Iactually saw a piece of him over a chancely loweredshoulder-and his face was carefully blank. "Um…Brazil?"

"Yes, Brazil!" the King shouted. "That font of all that ismost evil in the world, that source of all wickedness andcorruption!"

"But…," Prince Cucumber asked, sounding as if he wereterribly confused, " the attacker, he was a white man…andhe spoke in the English language."

King Daood clucked his tongue. "I am sorry, my brother,for your weak mind." He raised his voice to the assembled100 Princes. "We know there are Whites in every one oftheir countries. We know that all of the countries of thevile Americas are one and the same! We know they arereally all one people! One people of innite evil! WithBrazil the most evil of them all!"

Prince Cucumber clutched his breast. "…And yet, myking, why should this Brazil attack us? There is no reasonfor them to do this thing!"

However, I got the sense that this Barbarian Princewasn't normally too popular amongst these people, these

uys who were, all of them, his brothers and cousins.Kind of the black sheep in the family, you know? These

uys who were all kinda businessmen themselves (a lotf them, not even kinda). But the Barbarian Prince wentn to give this long, angry, boring speech, and they

made him king at the end of it.

Yeah, I don't know what the fuck happened.

After the Barbarian prince-now the Barbarian King (orKing Daood-yeah, I looked up his name, since he didmake king)-accepted the succession, he had a crate

ulled to the center of the room (which was partly in therescent that was all that was left of my cam-view),

mounted it, and addressed the 100 Princes.

My cousins! You have wisely chosen your king this

ay. The West, sleek in their corruption, believe thathey can assault us with their devil-made technology,nd that we will do nothing! That we will only cowerefore the greatness of their evil! But, this day, you havehown them that…this…will…not…be…so! This day,ou have chosen a king!"

He made a slashing gesture. "Until this day, my cousins,he West's ravagings have been unstoppable. But now

we will stop them. Until this day, my cousins, theirorruptions have been remorseless. But now we will

each them remorse. And, until this day, my cousins,heir vile lies have been endless. But now we will bringn end to their lies, even if we have to rip every singlene of their tongues from their heads to do it!"

he 100 princes (all 349 of them-you know, one lesswith the new king) shouted ery agreement with thispeech. And, fuck me, but it upset me to think that I

wasn't simul-sending this feed to the sites as I waseceiving it, just to see the faces on those money-sluts athe Chain when they realized a lowly pic-jock hadut-jocked them on a legendary feed not once, butwice, in a single week.

Of course, this feed wouldn't have made it through theews-bleachers there at the Chain-Corporate alwaysilled anything about SA or anything about any of theirusiness "friends," and this feed was both. So, it wouldnly be the jockers, runners, and feeders who would beeething, not Corporate or the mid-men, or anyone elsen that end. But who really cared about their opinions,nyway? Who amongst real pic-jocks, I mean.

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And-hot fucking damn!-I was the only one who got feedof it, and the only one who even knew there was feed tohave been got.

What's more, as decent as this feed was, I gured I mighteven get back all the bills I'd spent getting it set up. And ifthat happened on a political feed, it would be fuckinglegendary.

********

Meantime, the pundits of SA had gone stark ravingmad-instead of just their usual raving mad. The nuclearattack had sent them right to the very fringes of the deepend, causing interviews a lot like this one from the Chain:

"What is it that is so unique about these Americas thatthey could even consider detonating a nuclear bomb insidea holy city lled with innocent people? I ask you,Professor Surat."

"Well, my friend, to understand this thing, you must rstunderstand how the culture of the Americas has beenhijacked by a mad 'Armageddon' cult. They read best-selling books about it. They watch blockbuster moviesabout it. They have entire television series devoted solelyto it. It has permeated every part of the culture of theAmericas."

"What do they want? These Armageddonists?"

"Well, my friend, what they seek most of all is that whichall Armageddonist cults seek-the end of the world."

"The end of the world?"

"Yes. That is their fondest dream. …They call it the'Rapture' or the 'Final Peace on Earth.'"

"Rapture? As in the touch of Allah?"

"Not exactly. You must understand, my friend, in theirRapture, they believe that the Prophet Jesus-who theybelieve is the son of God-will 'descend' to Earth and bringthem and everyone else who has been 'saved' to Heaven,while everyone else is left behind to die and be drug downto Hell."

"That is…horrible."

ing Daood spat upon the ground. "Reasons? Theyeed no reasons to commit their evil! They are evil!"

…I think...even evil has reasons…."

he Barbarian King turned and glared furiously anduspiciously at Prince Cucumber. "My brother, are youying to suggest that Brazil had reason to attack ouroly city? Are you trying to say that we were partlyesponsible for their committing this evil deed? Are youying to say that you think they were in some way

ustied?"

rince Cucumber quickly backed away. "N-no, mying! A thousand times no! …I only w-wondered…howis we know for certain that it is Brazil who committed

his terrible deed."

How do we know? We know because Allah hasevealed to us that it is so! Allah has guided us to theuth! Allah has shown to us that the vile bomber wasving in the lth of Rio for three years! Three years!here can be no more damning proof! …It was Brazilho planned and executed this sinful assault upon our

ountry and our faith! Now, they must be punished forheir sin! And, with Allah as our guide, we will see themunished! Praise be to Allah!"

fter that, when Prince Cucumber tried to continue toemand answers, he was hissed into silence by the restf the 100 Princes, who had been moved by their newing's speech to side wholly with him.

nd so, SA had a new king. A Barbarian King. And inis barbarity, he made for some decent feed.

mean, nobody usually buys straight politics, outside offew political junkies, right? Sure, people will talkbout politics, but they won't actually pay anything for

. But sometimes-just sometimes-politics sets aside allhe boringly complex tongue-wagging it normally loveso much, and goes in an entirely different direction.nd, this feed started with a murder (though,

egrettably, the blood was off-cam), continued with auy stealing the kingship of a country, and ended withomething near to a declaration of war. That's the kindf politics people actually like. You know, the bloodyuff.

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The pundit feeds were all oozing endless amounts of thatkind of crap. At one point, I had four screens lit up withdifferent live feeds, all of them saying pretty much thesame thing-as if there were some sort of press release.Which there probably was.

And it was all crap, with misled facts, shamelessexaggeration, and naked emotional pandering-all the

hallmarks of prime pundit feed. (Though the acting on theemotional pandering did sometimes leave a bit to bedesired-'cause, well, some anchors are just better thanothers at pretending shocked-outrage, you know?) Yet,while these feeds may have lacked much in the way ofaccuracy or any real emotion, they somehow were stillbelievable. To those of us not in the biz, I mean. And,'cause they were so believable, they stirred up a lot of fearamongst the Joes. Not the trembling, cowering kind offear, mind you, but the mean, angry kind.

And right into all that stirred-up emotion, King Daoodtossed a fresh verbal bomb, tossing it in a direct send tothe Brazilian Prime Minister-a send which he made theexact opposite of private.

"Fellow Head of State, we must speak, you and I. It isknown that it was your country that sponsored those whocommitted the nuclear attack upon my country, mypeople, and the holy city of our faith. We know that youalso now protect the planners of this great evil. You seekto reward them for their loyalty and success by hiding

them from the world's just retribution, while also seekingto hide your own foul involvement by doing so. …But,Allah has revealed all. The world now knows that this eviwas yours, and the world will not tolerate your evil! ThePeoples of the World demand that you this very momentgive up all the committers of evil, and any who aidedthem in their vile deeds! And the Peoples of the Worlddemand that you this very moment give up all yournuclear weapons and nuclear related ambitions! …Youwill do this. If you do not, if you choose to defy our mostworthy demands, we will be forced to respond in a

manner from which your nation will never recover!"

The Prime Minister of Brazil stared at his send screen. Ihad never seen anyone so stunned, so unable to think ofany way to respond.

"…You do not answer. We will take that as an admissionof guilt, and a refusal to obey our most worthy demands.But, we are not without mercy. We will give youtwenty-four hours in which to gain enough wisdom tochange your mind.

would agree. But to them, you must understand, thisseen as being a just end-everyone gets what they

eserve, you see. They, the 'saved,' or the pure, are to beised above, while everyone else is left to die and fall

elow. …Yes, it is shocking, I know. But it is what theyelieve, and most strongly so."

t isn't just shocking, it's frightening."

True."

…But, Professor Surat, if they believe the world isoon to come to an end, then why go to all of what mustave been a great deal of trouble to acquire a nuclearomb, sneak it into a foreign country, and detonate it?

What is the point?"

That must, indeed, have been a monumental task for a

ountry with as few resources as Brazil. However, theye most fanatic, which allows them to accomplishings you would not otherwise expect them capable

f."

But, why? Why do it?"

Ah, my friend, you must understand-for them this is allart of a prophecy. They believe that there will be sevengns of Armageddon before their Rapture will occur.

ndeed, before it can occur. And one of those signs is

at all of the kingdoms of the desert will be turned toust. Their prophesy does not say how this will happen,ut these cultists currently believe that it will be causedy a gigantic world war centered around their holy landf Jeruselum. So you see, my friend, that is why theaders of this Armageddon cult are currently

dvocating-and I quote-'bombing the entirety of theMiddle East back into the Stone Age.' To them, this is

ot pointless at all-it is, rather, an attempt to help fullle Armageddon prophecy, and so bring the time of theirapture one more day closer."

…My God! Forgive me for violating the Lord's name,ut…my…God. …And you say all of the people of themericas believe in this 'Armageddon'?"

No no, my friend. This is not what I am saying at all.he mainstream of the Americas do not themselveselieve in the Rapture prophesies of this cult. However,e mainstream are no longer the ones currently in

ower in the Americas…."

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Well, except for Silent Sam-so nicknamed 'cause no onehad ever seen the guy, or even heard his voice. He justsent vid, with maybe a couple of lines of explaining text ifa vid needed it.

Silent Sam was real competition, right? He was a realpic-hunter. He was nothing like those guys in the Chain.Though, he was a pic-runner, not a pic-jock, so he wasn'tdirect competition for me. Mostly.

It was Sam who nabbed the iconic feed of the burning ofRio.

The Iconic Shot. Every major event has one. The shot thatis deemed to best capture everyone's feelings about whathappened. And when I say everyone, I mean every singleone of the news site owners, of course.

What Silent Sam got was a feed of a family, soot-stained,eeing down the street beneath a blackened sky while theclouds rained re-sparks around them, and behind themwas the inferno, billowing into the sky, dwarng them toalmost nothing.

It was one of those almost magical feeds-the ones whereyou could grab any frame in the entire thing and get thesame lump in your throat as at the image before it. Andthe same grit to your teeth to know you were feeling thatand the feed wasn't yours.

People remember a feed like that. It's the kind of thingthat sticks in you, forever. Biz or Joes, doesn't matter. Youremember. You might not remember Silent Sam's the onewho took it, but you remember the shot.

And, yeah, I can't say I didn't myself jealously grit myteeth as I went over all those incredible frames.

********

After the inferno, I pretty much stopped grabbing feedfrom SA and Brazil. I left my cams up, 'cause it'd've beenmore trouble for me to go out there and take them down,but I stopped pulling feed off of them. There just wasn'tmuch point anymore, since the Chain was now all overthat shit. Sure, that meant most of the feed coming out ofthose places was gossip, not news, since the Chain'd longago forgotten there was a difference. But, they did get theother stuff too. Sort of. In their way.

But, should you choose to remain in ignorance, myriend, then Allah will see your unjust and ignorantountry brought to its knees through our mighty hands.raise be to Allah!"

he send ended, but the Prime Minister stillontinued to stare at the empty screen, the fruits of his

most recent bribe still arrayed on the table before him.…But…we don't have a nuclear program."

here were lots of feeds of what came after. Thousandsf them. Thousands of feeds of Rio de Janeiro beingre-bombed to ash. But only I had the feed thatxplained why it had happened. And, once again,omber Joe earned his name.

Oh yes, tongues were wagging all over now. And notust the tongues of those in the biz-my name had gainedven a little celebrity amongst the Joes, because everyne of those thousands of re-bombing feeds sourced

mine to explain the Why of what was happening. So,my name was suddenly everywhere. It wasn't onveryone's lips, mind you-I mean, I was no celebrity.ut, everyone knew the name "Bomber Joe." Everyone.

Nothing like this had ever before happened to me. Itwas an incredible feeling. Almost spiritual.

Okay, actually spiritual.

m not saying I was seeing the God of News Feeds orhe Muse of Vid-ders, or anything like that. What I'maying is-it felt kind of like being worshipped, in a way.

Which was completely crazy. And also made me reallyucking horny.

Yeah, it was a sexual/spiritual thing. And it was com-

letely awesome. There just isn't any other word for it.Anyway, I didn't have a cam up in Rio, so I didn't havemy own feed of the hundreds of bombers and thehousands upon thousands of bombs raining down uponhe city, or of the subsequent inferno. Not that it waskely to have mattered so much-when there are that

many feeds on an event, even such a major event as this,o pic-jock ever really makes any bills. The money justets too spread around, you know?

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was just too "big" to ignore. And that eventually slipped tonly the juice that was too juicy to ignore. And so on andso on until, after a while, they just kind of forgot that theywere juicing at all.

And once you've forgotten that, you've already forgottenthat there was a line.

And that is something you just can not do. 'Cause thenewsies get affronted when you try to tell them that gossiis news. And the gossips get bored when you try to tellthem that news is gossip.

You can try to tell them otherwise-you can try to tell themthey should like all of it the same. But they're just notgoing to do it. See, they know there's a difference, andthey know what that difference is, even if they might notbe able to articulate it. And if you lied to them aboutit-even if it was a lie you were saying only because yousomehow forgot what the difference was-well, theywouldn't hate you for it. No, what would happen was farworse-they would get bored by you, and turn you off. Thevery worst thing in the world, in the biz.

And that was where the Chain was, where it had been fora while-their money-sluts running around everywheretrying to inject juice into everything, yet losing viewersthe more juice they juiced, but not understanding whythey were getting all those losses, and so trying to countethe losses with even more juicing. Such as when they

mass-dump feed onto all of the news sites of every singlemoment of the lives of anyone even peripherallyconnected to a drug-induced murder of a white, blonde,adulterous, female celeb/whore by her black celeb/whorehusband, and try to insist that they only did it 'cause it wanews, when it's actually just juicy gossip.

Or when-picking something that's closer to the events I'vebeen tracing here-they throw up feed of an interview suchas this:

"Let me ask you this, Magistrate Rezah-What of PrinceAshad's rumored involvement with a Brazilian mistressbefore the war? Is it true that his mistress may havehelped to ease the bomber's path past our security?"

"No, and a thousand times no. That is a agrant andmalicious rumor. Prince Ashad has never had any relationwith any Brazilian whores. Not one. …But even had hedone so, even if he had, he would not be so foolish as tocompromise the security of our country with such as her.He is a Prince of the Realm; he is above such things."

A slow pan across ash-covered ground and then ahip-round turn to a broken family and a Chain-slutking imploringly, "And how did that make you feel?"hat was Chain-style feed.

nd that one, and a hundred just like it, were alreadyoxed and sited, 'cause the Chain never did like to donything small. Or understated. Or with any style.

mean, you didn't need that question asked, right? Youuld see it in their faces just by looking at them.aking them put it into words, making them try to ar-

culate something they could not articulate, just less-ned it.

ut the Chain-sluts didn't get that.

nyways, I didn't bother trying to compete. Bomber Joeusbanded his resources better than that, even if he did

ave a lot more resources lying around just then.

********

o, yeah-there's a sharp line between news and gossip,you didn't know. Unfortunately, even though the linea sharp one, it's one of those differences that's hard to

ut into words.

ou can feel the difference easily enough, though, evenyou can't explain it. And it's really easy to see it

orking, too, if you want. All you've got to do is go tome dinner party and start telling the guest seated ine chair next to you about that tidbit you think is so

mportant, and if what you get back is mostly barelysguised yawns, then what you've got yourself is adbit of news. But if, instead, the people around youho weren't a part of your conversation start listening, then what you've got yourself is some prime gossip.

he Chain used to be all news all the time, a lot of yearsack. But then, one day, in order to juice their rankings

bit, they picked up a taste of gossip and sited it.aying to everyone, including themselves, that it wasst the once, saying they'd go back to all news onceat one juicy feed ran dry, saying they could stophenever they wanted.

ut, the juice was so juicy, they of course went back,ause they're such money-sluts. Saying to everyone,cluding themselves, they'd only do it whenever thereas something that was just too juicily important toiss. Which eventually slipped to only the juice that

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"My friend, you don't know them, obviously. These'people,' as you say, are not like you and I; they are notcivilized beings. They are violent, barbaric, savages. Andbecause they are savages, savagery is the only thing these'people' can understand. Savagery is the only way we cankeep them under control. And, above all, we must havecontrol of them, because, if we do not, we will soon ndthey have come and murdered us all in our beds!"

"So, you say you are only doing what you must in order tkeep us safe?"

"Exactly, my friend! Exactly."

"Has it worked?"

"There has been no second nuke. This speaks for itself, Isay."

"Well, true enough. …Yet, critics have accused thegovernment, and you in particular, of wanton violence anracism for imprisoning these dissident Christians in these camps. How does it feel to be accused of these things?"

"Harumph. They are weak of mind, these accusers. Theyknow little of the ways of the real world. Nor do theyspeak with the true voice of our people. And mostdenitely do they not speak with the voice of Allah, praisbe to His name!"

"Praise be to His name. But, how does it make you feel, tbe called these names?"

"I feel that they have little understanding of the things thathey speak, and they will be judged by Allah. Or they willbe judged by the world, if the people, for some reason,unwisely stopped listening to us, and began to listen tothem."

"But how does it make you feel?"

"…I do not understand."

"Hmm. …I guess what I'm getting at is: When yourchildren-you have children, don't you?"

"I do."

"When your children hear these names you are beingcalled and come and ask you about them, how does thatmake you feel?"

t is being said that this Brazilian mistress was arrestednd sent to our prison in Israel, where she wasoroughly and-shall we say-rigorously interrogated for

nything she might know about the bombing, and wherehe has been held ever since. Can you conrm this?"

…As I said, my friend, there is no Brazilian whore."

Ah, of course. …But, that brings up another point-itics of the 'I' camps have suggested that buildingese camps outside of our country and outside of ourws, not to mention building it in a place that is so

nathema to our people and our faith, is not somethingat is just illegal, but is also immoral. How do youspond to this?"

My friend, building these prisons outside our country isot a thing that can honestly be called 'wrong,' except by

few unwise or misinformed agitators. After all, weould not want these prisons, which are keeping theost viscous of our enemies, to be located in our own

ountry. None of us would ever be safe again. Far betterat we have these most vicious of indels housed

mongst the Jews than amongst our own people, eh?"

Are you saying, then, that it is better to have the Jewsking the risk of keeping these most vicious ofrisoners, instead of our own people, even though it ise who have arrested and imprisoned them?"

Ah, you do not understand me. I am not saying this. Im saying that the Jews do not have the same risk as weo, housing these prisoners amongst them. Theserisoners do not have such hatred of the Jews as they dor us. …And as to the question of immorality-no, it is

ot an immoral decision to build prisons. Just thepposite. Look, my friend, certain undesirable elementsill always have to be removed from any society inrder to protect the safety of the rest of the society.acing these criminals and indels within prisons is

uch more humane and moral than what most countrieso with such enemies of society, is that not so?"

Yes, I suppose that it is. But, speaking of indels-someave accused the government of arresting all of thessident Christians in our country and sending them toese camps, where these people are all treated as spies

nd subversives, and interrogated accordingly, even ifey have never been accused of committing even oneime. How do you respond to these accusations?"

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Anyway, as it turned out, Mr. Oily was kind of overseeingthe imprisonment of all the "dissident Christians" in SA,which, according to the SA government, was pretty muchall of them. These dissident Cs were all being thrown intothe regular military prisons, where whippings,agellations, beatings, and the occasional lopped-off limbwere common-all of the things SA society loved.

Oh, and they rmly believe that that kinda stuff keepscrime off of their streets, too. That's the main reason theydo it, so they keep insisting-sure sure.

I could easily have gotten feed of the prisons, of course.But what for? I mean, prison beatings are hardly anythingnew, right? And even if it were, it wasn't like anyonemuch was going to care if prisoners took somebeatings-it's what they deserved, isn't it, for beingcriminals? Those dissident C criminals, especially, right?

So, no news there.

But, there actually was a bit of news in it, 'cause, as Itraced deeper, I discovered that the torturers at the prisonshad started also pissing on their C prisoners' bibles, andalso stripping these C prisoners and forcing them toremain naked for several days, and also frequently rapingthem or sodomizing them with various objects-all thosethings at the instigation of our dear Prince Oily. Not apretty picture, from a not particularly pretty guy.

Which was news, but it wasn't really prime, youknow?-not many'd want to buy stuff like that. It was thekind of thing that made people uncomfortable. Still, therewas enough in it to make at least most of my pay-outsback, maybe a bit more.

And there was also more than enough in it to add to thegrowing legend of Bomber Joe. Which it would certainlydo, 'cause it was yet another scoop on the Chain. My thirdin as many months. Which was fucking mind-blowing.

*******

Everyone got this one feed that was coming out of SA.Everyone except me. I hate photo-ops. They offend me tothe very core of my pic-jock soul. 'Cause they are, atheart, a way of telling us pic-jocks what pics to take. As ifthey think we are not necessary, as if they think they cando our job better.

There is a long pause, and a choked-back sob. "…Myheart aches, when they ask me these things. I cannotnswer them…."

Yes, I can well imagine."

That was the Chain these days. In that feed, as in a

housand others they sited every day.

And in case you're a Chain-slut yourself, and can't seewhat's wrong with it even when it's shoved in yourace-the invasion of Brazil is news, sure, but having thenvasion as background really does not make your feedbout the invasion, and it denitely does not make it

news. That feed was about whores, insinuation, P.R.,nd someone's feelings about being insulted, and that'st. And that's all gossip. Gossip that they tried to call

news.

Fucking money-sluts.

********

Anyway, with SA and Brazil shut down, I needed to goack to trolling feeds, earning my dinner, you know, and

horde my Bomber Joe pay-out for as long as possible,ike you're supposed to do.

That's what I should have done, anyway. But, instead, Itarted spending the bills, 'cause I had this impulse.

And, following that impulse, I started tracing down Mr.Oily (you know, the broad-backed prince whose back

locked most of my view of the succession).

Now, normally, being a lowly pic-jock, I would havegotten nowhere-absolutely nowhere-trying to tracedown one of the 100 Princes of SA. But it is fuckingmazing how easy a large stack of bills makes that kind

f thing. Just slices away all the difculties. Snick! andgone!

Sigh. What I could do with permanent access toesources like that.

And, fuck-what all of those rich bastards can do to usny old time they want, 'cause they do have permanentccess to resources like that. Makes you kinda wonder

doesn't it?

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"Praise be to Allah!"

"Victory! …Victory." He rested his hands on the mic standbefore him. "Yet…while it is most pleasant to see the evilthat was Brazil now crushed beneath our feet…this is farfrom enough! We are not yet safe! …We have destroyedthe evil that dared to savage our holy city with devil-madetechnology, but…the greater corruption which brought

forth and nurtured that horrible assault still exists! Brazilwas not alone in its evil! Brazil was part of an alliance ofcountries! An alliance founded in the lth and corruptionof the West! An alliance whose only goal is to destroy allwho believe in honor and the True Faith! An alliance thatwill stop at nothing in order to spread its horrors to everycorner of the world! An Alliance of Evil!

"If we want to live in safety, if we wish to live in peace,then that is what we must confront, my brothers andsisters! All of its evil, no matter where it exists in the

world, must be destroyed. Any country that has alloweditself to become a harbor for evil must be destroyed! Anypeople who, knowingly or unknowingly, give succor toevil must be destroyed! That is the righteous duty whichAllah has laid before us. And we, my brothers and sisters,we will take up this duty, because we are the people of theTrue Faith! Praise be to Allah!"

"Praise be to Allah!"

He dropped down closer to the mics. "You who are the

Alliance of Evil…you believed you could continue to hideyour existence in the darkness! But I will name you, I willdrag you out into the light, so that all might see you, sothat all might see who you are! Puerta Rico, Japan, andMexico! …You who are the Alliance of Evil! We are allwatching you now! You will reform yourselves, or youcan be assured that we will reform you! …Praise Be ToAllah!"

"Praise Be To Allah!"

*******

Alliance of Evil.

I would have laughed out loud if it weren't so fucking sad.I mean, none of those countries were actually allied witheach other, so it couldn't actually be an alliance, right?And, while all of those countries had done and were doingsome pretty shitty stuff, none of them were actually evil,you know?

r as if they think they can control us.

o, not only didn't I cam it, I didn't even watch anyone'sed of the event. Not live, I mean. Yet, the event turned

ut to be important, so I ended up watching it boxed,itting my teeth the entire way against the anticipated

heese of a political photo-op.

amed in the view was the Barbarian King, dressed upthe robes of a militant priest-even though he was nottually a priest, not even the by-mail sort. He wasanding before some mosque or other, which I supposecould have looked up, but I didn't. Interestingly,ough, this one happened to be located right next to and prison-great frame, that. I mean, all three of the bigeds out of SA just then were imaged right there,gether-the assault on the holy city, the I camps, ande Barbarian King himself.

lso, having all three of them together like that, and soose together, it even seemed to be saying a littlemething about King Daood's government and theneral atmosphere they were fostering in SA. Althoughat was probably unintentional.

ehind the Barbarian King, mounted on the wall of theosque, was a banner written in a language I couldn'tad, but the trans progs on my comp were right on that,

nd a translation came up almost as soon as the signpeared on-screen: "Victory Achieved!" The banneras framed just behind and above the Barbarian King,

nd he was the only one in frame like that-as if theeech's planners had wanted it to seem as if this weres victory.

ing Daood raised his hands in a religious manner-not aoper, penitent manner, but instead rather more like theanner of the evangelists. Which probably said a lotout the kind of religious leaders he liked to follow.

hen he began his speech, addressing a large crowd ofrefully chosen SA Joes assembled in the streets beforem.

Brothers and sisters of the True Faith. Today, the evilat dared to lay its hand upon us has had that handruck off! The enemy is defeated! … Yes, my brothersnd sisters! Victory has been given to us in Brazil,aise be to Allah!"

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"So, you are saying you really believe that Japan, Mexico,and Puerta Rico have allied together in secret for the solepurpose of conspiring against all people of the TrueFaith?"

"Ah, this is what I am saying, yes. There is no doubt in mymind. Unfortunately, none. That is what they have done,and that is why they are doing it."

Yeah, the expert on that one really didn't have the Gab. Imean, you hate to see an answer-dangle like that. But,hers was the interview I could nd that was fastest toprove my point. And anyway, that kinda shit is what mostinterviews are like. I mean, that's why and how the P.R.industry got started in the rst place, right?

Still, you do hate to see it when the interviewer is onlythrowing softies like that and the political still whiffs it. It

just makes you sad for the entirety of the human race.'Cause, you know, they're out there whifng so badagainst softies like that, and these are the people who arerunning our countries.

But there probably isn't any relation between being able torun a country well and being able to interview well, right?

So the politicals keep insisting, anyway.

'Course, there's the other side of things, too. There're some

who would look at that interview, and how the interviewerhad handed answers to the political, and these folks'dquickly leap to the conclusion that the entire interviewwas some kind of conspiracy to manipulate everyone'sminds.

And they'd be just as wrong as the nutters.

See, interviews like that, coming from the Chain like mostof them did, they were all planned out ahead of time, withagreed-upon questions, probably a practice run-through of

the interview (meaning the cam-ed interview wasn't reallyan interview, but was instead really more of a skit), andwith the answers each pre-screened by the Chain formarketability. Money-whores that they were.

So, the Chain already knew everything that was going tobe said during the interview, question and answer both,and they sorta saw it as their job to help the interviewee toget his particular message voiced and boxed and marketedas best as they could.

So, what the Barbarian King was actually talking aboutwas a Non-alliance of Non-evil. Yeah. Fuckingca-a-a-ry.

Still, the whole evil alliance thing did t right in withhe nutters' views of the world-a giant, evil,

world-spanning conspiracy that was conspiring againstll who were good and faithful and just. Yeah, the

nutters loved that idea.

t was just too bad how it turned out that so manyositions of inuence and power in the world were cur-ently lled with nutters.

mean, sure, all of the agents of the Barbarian Kingully supported their king's views. That was, you know,

kinda in their job description. But this went far beyondhe agents of a king. This was everyone of inuenceverywhere you turned-all of them were in fanatic

greement with the Barbarian King, sometimes evenmore fanatic agreement than those he paid to be in

anatic agreement with him.

Such as in this Chain interview:

Is there really an alliance amongst these nations,Doctor Hawari? After all, these nations are not of theame race, or the same economic situation, or even theame hemisphere."

Ah, well, yes. Look, my friend, there is no overtlliance, that is so. There is no treaty amongst them, noormal diplomacy even, no decisions made whereictures can be taken, you see. However, having beenllowed a peek at the secret intelligence which our King

made his decision upon, I fully believe that thesegovernments have, indeed, formed a secret pact."

They have?"

Oh, denitely, yes."

But, why? For what reason would they make such aecret alliance?"

That is difcult to say, my friend, since it is still asecret alliance. But, I will make a guess at theireasoning, yet you must keep in mind that it is a guess.

Most likely, they are seeing it as being in their bestnterests to ally themselves with others of like mind."

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There wasn't any vid of it. There wasn't even any vox.This was just an intelligence release from the SAgovernment sourced from a report from one of theirsnitches. Which was the rst sign that it w

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