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GPS said the road would took an hour, end to end. | GPS said the road would took an hour, end to end. | ||
The lads waited an hour. They kept eyes peeled and spirits high with primo [[banter]] on the C.B. | The lads waited an hour. They kept eyes peeled and spirits high with primo [[banter]] on the [[C.B.]] | ||
''Nada''. | ''Nada''. | ||
Line 26: | Line 26: | ||
Boone double checked the map. He finger-traced the route. He stabbed the boys’ locale and growled into the intercom. “There ''is'' no other way out. If they haven’t coming past they must still be in there.” | Boone double checked the map. He finger-traced the route. He stabbed the boys’ locale and growled into the intercom. “There ''is'' no other way out. If they haven’t coming past they must still be in there.” | ||
A cold wind whipped up. Fat globules of rain slapped the windshield. Aggie looked west. It was fearsome dark a mile down the lake. “[[liquidity|Liquidity]] situation is tightening up, Boone. We be wet if we don’t move.” | A cold wind whipped up the valley. Fat globules of rain slapped the windshield. Aggie looked west. It was fearsome dark a mile down the lake. “[[liquidity|Liquidity]] situation is tightening up, Boone. We be wet if we don’t move.” | ||
Boone snapped shut the map and slid into the cabin. He barked into the tw0-way: “Ok. Let’s go. Boys: prime your GMSLAs. Be ready for action. Something is going down. I ''feel'' it. We’re coming through. Boone ''out''.” | Boone snapped shut the map and slid into the cabin. He barked into the tw0-way: “Ok. Let’s go. Boys: prime your GMSLAs. Be ready for action. Something is going down. I ''feel'' it. We’re coming through. Boone ''out''.” | ||
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No sign of the Wickliffe semi. | No sign of the Wickliffe semi. | ||
Boone rode the camber hard. Aggie hung on the grab-handles. The AIF belted through the autumn detritus. | Boone rode the camber hard. Aggie hung on the grab-handles. The AIF growled and belted through the autumn detritus. Aggie navigated. The GPS came and went. The depo whined. | ||
No sign of the | No sign of the semi. | ||
They shot past a deserted hotel. Boarded up for the ski season. The dwellings thinned out. The trees came thick and fast now. The road gained elevation: smashing lake-views. The depo whined. | They shot past a deserted hotel. Boarded up for the ski season. The dwellings thinned out. The trees came thick and fast now. The road gained elevation: smashing lake-views. The depo whined. | ||
No sign of the | No sign of the semi. | ||
They shot past an old school of some kind. ''Not'' boarded up. Lights beamed through the gloaming: Swiss nippers learning times tables. Boone gunned the AIF and left the Swiss nippers for dust. | |||
Boone hit a blind hairpin. He stomped on the anchors. The AIF fishtailed. It slewed out right. Boone cursed his luck and the sled skidded down a bank. The rag top flipped. The depo graunched. The [[AIF]]’s mags spun slow, idle and upside-down. | |||
Aggie | Aggie popped up, super casual, and said, “Okay, so that didn’t go so well. What now?” | ||
“Guess we better go see if the Swiss nippers can give us a tow.” | |||
They trudged back. The house was a grand old gothic mansion | They fashioned paper hats and trudged back through the rain. They rocked up at the school they’d seen: quelle surpise: ''not'' a school. Some kind of orphanage. Set back behind a wrought iron gate and imposing statue of a wanderer in the fog: <blockquote>''“Give me your poor, huddled, lost little [[Special purpose vehicle|special purpose vehicles]]. Give them all to me: yea, even unto their tens of thousands. I will nourish them. I will feed them. I will shelter them, just as they will shelter you, and your taxable income.”'' </blockquote>The house was a grand old gothic mansion. It was set back from the lake in defended by firs, snuggled into the folds of the mountain. A jumble of architectural styles grafted on, like some Frankensteinian horror-show. An A-Frame extension. Out right, an art nouveau wing, of glass and wrought iron, glowed and sparked like a firefly. The main reception: a neoclassical portico, emblazoned in cursive font: Ugland House. Behind: a grand post-Raphaelite portrait of an old man with a cracking moustache. [[George Robert Maguire Ugland|George R. M. Ugland]], 1827-1957. | ||
The door opened. A young administrator stood behind. He said, “The masters are are entertaining clients this evening. But come in: | The door opened. A young administrator stood behind. He said, “The masters are are entertaining clients this evening. But come in: it seems nasty out. He smiled an oily smile. | ||
“Masters?” | “Masters?” | ||
“Masters of the orphanage: Mister Maple and Mister Calder.” | |||
The administrator took their [[ISDA]]<nowiki/>s at the door. they are fed, watered. As she returns from a washroom Aggie follows a weeping child down a hallway, where she discovers the terrible secret of the orphan manufacturing laboratory. She doubles back and alerts Boone. They swipe the sniveling child and make escape in a boat across the lake. | |||
They don’t realise the girl is a multicellular vehicle. She spawns a double. And another. And another. | They don’t realise the girl is a multicellular vehicle. She spawns a double. And another. And another. | ||
“Jesus it’s a side pocket!” | |||
“Close it out !! Close it out!” Boone’s voice was urgent now. | |||
“She’s just a little orphan ...” | “She’s just a little orphan ...” | ||
“Jesus Aggie pull the fucking [[NAV trigger]] would you?” | “Jesus, Aggie, pull the fucking [[NAV trigger]] would you?” | ||
Aggie’s face was wet with the horror of war. She said, “all these memories,” and waxed the kid with a [[6(a) - ISDA Provision|6(a)]]. | |||
A small [[Mark-to-market|MTM]] shock wave waft knocked her back but Aggie held her feet. The kid went down with a a crazy smile. It crumpled, collapsed in on itself and vanished in a puff. | |||
The rest of the spawn kept coming. | |||
“Jesus it must be segregated! | “Jesus it must be segregated!” Boone barked. “Find its ''parent''!” | ||
“No sweat, I’ll just DUST it | This was no time for complicated DD. Aggie shrugged and flipped off the safety. “No sweat, Opco, I’ll just [[DUST]] it.” | ||
Boone screamed, | Boone screamed, “NO!”, but it was too late. Aggie squeezed. | ||
The old 87 blammed out a [[5(a)(v) - ISDA Provision|5(a)(v)]]. It filled the air with a choking miasma. Boone and Aggie hit the deck. The air flared and flashed and sparkled across the gunwale. The dust cleared. ''The kids still stood''. The kids kept coming. | |||
“What the living ''fuck''?”<Br>“They’re segregated, Agster.” <Br>“Oh, shit.” | “What the living ''fuck''?”<Br>“They’re segregated, Agster.” <Br>“Oh, shit.” |