Masks Sixteen: Part Seven

by

Rodford Edmiston

"This is more private?!" said Gadgetive, as they seated themselves around the weathered picnic table. "There's dozens of folks watching us!"

"You'll notice, though, that they're keeping their distance," said Energia. "That's an unspoken rule; if folks come out here that means they want privacy, and that means they get it. That includes folks keeping their distance, too. It's sort of a school tradition. So, what's going on?"

"You checked for bugs, right?" said Ike.

I, Vengeance, stood next to Justice as we waited for the warmonger Ishbal Kamizan to be brought before us.

We waited for some time before Honour entered the room, four guards surrounding the warmonger behind him. The guards placed the broken shell of a man in the seat in the middle of the room, then moved to take up positions around the room.

Justice faced him and spoke, "Ishbal Kamizan, you sit before us accused of genocide and mass murder, how do you plead?"

We are the Servants of Redemption. We are seven, five women, two men, united in her service, her Chosen in this world.

She calls herself Redemption in this age. She was here long, long ago, but the name she used then was lost as her people died.

Somehow, someone somewhere on this world found her, even though her name could not be remembered, and believed in her. Even she was mystified at the fact that she was reborn in a sense, she had been floating alone in a timeless void until that first person believed.

Jez makes friends, in virtual reality and actual reality.

.

.

Masks Sixteen: Part Five

by

Rodford Edmiston

"Why would someone say that?! I mean, yeah, Maldren and I are lovers, but so what?! We both fought to defend Earth!"

She was sitting in the office of President Sievers' assist Gompers, a few blocks from both the White House and the Capital. He had personally invited Energia to stop by later in the day as she was making ready to leave the awards ceremony.

Gompers paged through the folder on his desk until he found some loose cards. He selected one and handed it over the desk to the upset super.

Prologue: Of Masks and Men

CHAPTER 61
I wandered back along the hallway as my wife thundered down the stairs, and beat me to the living room. As I entered, everyone seemed to be wrapped around everyone else, but all eyes turned to me. I kept the glum face on as long as I could, but Sar wrestled the test wand out of my hand.

“Yes! Two-nil!”

This is a story that my muse dropped on me sixteen hours ago, It took me almost that long to write it.

The cautions are related to the part where Natalia describes the fifth house, they have nothing to do with Aloysius.

**********

Thomas Dinweller watched as the car stopped next to the tiny estate agent's office in the village. Little Bramble, a fairly small village, was lucky to have an estate agent's office, but some of the old buildings in the surrounding area and other parts of the Cotswolds were quite valuable.

Unedited first peak at a new story.

A story of life and finding ones true nature. The eternal struggle of overcoming the darkness.

"There you go again, eyes always wide shut."
"It helps" I say.
"Helps how?"
"What time is it?"
"Quarter to three, looks like our time for today is about up." I hear him close the notebook.
"I have something to say."
"Okay, what is it?" The book opens again.
"I wish to be a fool, or at least able to say foolish things at times."
"It's okay, I'm listening..."
"It's a secret... you understand?"