[story][Fenspace Alternates] The South Is Rising, Someone Get A Hammer

[M Fnord]

Because I'm bored, and feeling otherwise uncreative, I've slapped together a rough list of the "states" available to the remnant "uptime" US: Alaska, Hawaii, Puerto Rico, US Virgin Islands, Guam, Northern Marianas Islands and Greenwood. Using the most recent population data, the rump US has a base population of 6.3 million people, mostly in Puerto Rico. This of course isn't counting military, tourists, emigres or any other people overseas at the time of the event.

If I figure out what to do with this information, I'll let you know.
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[robkelk]

Aargh! Google Docs crashed on me while I was updating the story. I think I've fixed the damage, but folks might want to give their contributions a once-over just to be sure.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[robkelk]

Noah has a PR department that can polish speeches for him. I don't. So, before I put this bit in the doc, I invite suggestions for edits...

---

Recreational Park, Level 1, Odyssey Station
21 November 2016, 08:00 UTC (Event T+56 hours)

"Ladies, gentlemen, and others, thank you for coming to Odyssey on such short notice. I called this Convention because I knew that something terrible had happened on Earth. After gathering the evidence of what actually did happen, I have to admit that I underestimated the situation.

"You've all seen Tyger Tyger's video played on the screen behind me. Most of you have heard the recordings that Azu Squadron made. Many of you have heard rumors about what the SMOFs discussed yesterday. Some of you have read Captain Garret's report. I doubt there's anyone here who hasn't either read Mr. Turtledove's books or at least asked a Yomiko about them by now. So I won't waste everyone's time explaining what happened just before I called this Convention.

"Those of us who had families and friends in the continental United States have suffered a loss - one made worse in that we don't actually know what happened to our loved ones. But as long as we live and think, we can work toward finding the people who have been taken away from us. Yes, we have been left behind, but that just means that we should follow the path before us, once we can find it. I'm not going to lie to you - this will be a long and difficult task. But we are Fen, and I believe we can do anything we set our minds to!

"Before we set out in search of our loved ones, we have a more pressing matter to deal with. We have new neighbors - ones currently confined to the cradle of Mother Earth, but only a fool would think they will remain in their homelands for very long even if we don't offer to share our road to the stars with them. And I don't need to tell you how willing they are to take up arms against their fellow man. We must speak with them - not with artifice, not as disembodied "Mysteron" voices on the radio, but honestly, openly, and face to face, from the leaders in their highest levels of power to the most humble men and women in their poorest slums.

"We must do this because there is no indication that they will be leaving our Earth any time soon, if ever. Every sign we have seen shows that our homeworld with all its faults is a kinder, gentler place than theirs is. If we do not teach them how to work with the nations of our Earth, the blood they shed will be on our hands.

"Our goals here are threefold: Make contact with the people currently living in the continental United States, make peace with them but not "peace at any price", and find our lost friends and relatives. This is a tall order, but I see no reason why we cannot accomplish it if we work together.

"With this statement of intent, I declare this Emergency Convention open."
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[Foxboy]

Gotta have the wag who corrects "mysterions" to "Mysterons"
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

[robkelk]

Gotta have the wag who corrects "mysterions" to "Mysterons"

Fixed. Thanks.

And another scene, a huge chunk of which should be recognizable as being from the 0.1a version of the story...

---

Owner's Office
Stellvia
29 November 2016, 14:19 UTC

"I wonder what stats I have..."

Safety looked up at Noah. "Pardon, sir?"

"Oh, it's nothing really important. I was just musing on transfictionality."

Safety nodded, then blinked, then spoke in a different voice. "Noah, stop dwelling on the past!" Then she blinked again.

Noah stared at his assistant in shock for a moment. Then he took a breath, held it for a five-count, then exhaled. "Safety, go see Kohran right now and get Ms. Nikaido's memories out of your head."

"Yes, sir," she replied as she rose to leave. "I'm sorry to have troubled you."

When he was alone, Noah spoke to the empty air. "I'm not dwelling on the past, Yoriko. I still miss you, but Leda and Helen are almost enough to fill the void you left in my heart." Then he just sat there for a moment, as if expecting a reply.

Instead, the door opened. "Mr. Scott, are you all right? Safety looked upset when I passed her in the hall."

"Kelly! Come in, please. I'm fine, just surprised by something she did. What brings you away from the hotel?"

The bunnygirl who managed Hotel Stellvia sat down in one of her employer's guest chairs. "I was wondering why you wanted me to stop accepting reservations."

"Ah. Officially, it's so we have room for some refugees from the CSA."

She nodded. "And unofficially?"

"So we have room for a mage school. Assuming I can figure out how to set one up."

"I was half-afraid you were going to initiate Plan #3."

"If this just affected us, I would've declared Plan #3 when the continental shift happened, and we'd be a third of the way to Zeta Tucanae by now. But taking Wonderland with us would cause food shortages throughout the L5 cluster, and not taking Wonderland would condemn us to starvation. There's no way we can leave the Sol system right now."

Kelly smiled; it wasn't the reasoning she wanted to hear, but it would do for the time being. "All right; I'll continue refusing new reservations. Now, what else is wrong?"

Noah raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think anything else is wrong?"

"I've known you since before either of us headed Up. You've slipped into your gamemaster mode, which you only do when you're GMing or there's something on your mind that you don't want anyone else to know."

"You remember the campaign I ran on alternate Fridays before I got married?"

"The ISWAT game? I still have my techomage character sheet. Why?"

"I just found out who the Infinity Scout Service agent in our universe is."

Both of Kelly's eyebrows shot up. "Woah. Anybody I know?"

"There's the problem - should I tell anyone? It isn't as if this person's done anything wrong..."

"Aside from spying on us."

"There's no law against spying on us. Maybe there should be, but I never thought one would be necessary."

She thought for a moment. "Good point. Would it make a difference if we knew who the agent is?"

After a longer moment, Noah replied, "Maybe. She might get in trouble with the other factions if I tell them about her."

"'She,' huh? Well, that narrows it down..."

"Kelly!"

"You know people are going to react that way, or worse, if they find out you knew about the agent and didn't say anything."

Noah sighed and activated his PDA's phone directory. "You're right, of course. Better bite the bullet and get the worst reaction over with immediately. Where was Mal's direct number, again?"
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[M Fnord]

Okay, Folks At Home, here's the situation. We've got two different descriptions of the Event that kicks off the whole shebang, and they're sufficiently different enough that I don't think I can weave 'em together in any readable fashion. So we've got to choose one or the other.

(The third option here is for somebody *else* to write a version superior to the ones up for a vote, which is always a possibility.)

Here's the candidates for review. First up is Dartz's version:

---

The clock ticked over, and something happened.

The air crackled with static electricity, a cool breeze stirring dead old leaves and discarded papers in the evening streets. In an instant bright light split the darkness, illuminating the mist like sheet lightning in the clouds of a summer storm.

For a few brief moments, it seemed as if the light was coming from everywhere at once. No shadow was cast on the ground beneath. It was an eerie instant of pan-luminescence. Dogs barked and howled madly, dashing in panicked circles, or straining at their leads to run away.

Some people of an older generation dove to the ground, ducking down against nearby walls or inside doorways, covering themselves against the expected blast. A ferry pilot off Liberty Island looked up at the Statue in front of him, illuminated in the light. In place of a torch, he could’ve sworn he saw Lady Liberty holding a sword to the sky. He blinked and it was gone, the golden torch returning. An airport worker at Boston’s Logan International thought for a brief moment that he could feel the thrumm of a distant piston engine’d aircraft spooling it’s engines up, reminding him of the time he’d seen a B17 at an airshow. The feeling passed. A docker in Seattle swore at his telephone as a call to orbit cut out. In Washington D.C. a President was startled to hear their Russian counterpart cut off mid-word. Deep inside Cheyenne Mountain, a radar operator noticed a hundred and one orbital contacts.... disappear. An operator at the Midwest ISO control centre in St. Paul was startled to find that somehow, he’d lost all generation coming in from Manitoba. He raced to keep the grid from collapsing.

A half second later, a thunderclap like God himself slamming a door in heaven rattled windows and shook light walls in framebuilt houses across the midwest. Powerlines quivered in fear while cat’s and rats and anyone with an iota of sense dived for cover. A chilling gust chased the thunder, the dying shockwave of an interdimensional explosion rippling through a hundred realities.

Then. A terrible, dreadful stillness.

---

And this one is mine:

---

The clock ticked over, and something happened.

The fog grew still, unnaturally so, as if the moisture in the air had turned to concrete. Inside the wall of mist, the few people still out on the streets could see strange lights playing inside. The lights flickered, twisted and then exploded outward, lighting up the nearby countryside for a few bare milliseconds.

There was a distant rumbling sound, like thunder heard from far away, and the fog started to melt away. Slowly at first, then picking up speed, the fog vanished, leaving behind new countryside merged together.

(High above the cloud deck, a lone weather balloon had the best seat in the house for the event. Recovered several days later, the audio recorder someone stuck on for ballast would pick up the roll of distant thunder, along with the sound of gigantic leathery wings flapping and what everybody who heard it would swear was the sound of snickering.)

In Hawaii, phone and Internet connections broke off mid-word, leaving behind puzzled users.

In Mexico, the land looked much as it always did, though the people of Villa Ocampo looked north at the new lights on the horizon and tried to figure out what this meant.

In Quebec, a Canadian engineer watched the load on his generators suddenly drop off.

A group of homeless men, gathered together for warmth on Atwater Drive in Detroit, gazed in wonder as the fog cleared and revealed gleaming towers of steel and concrete on the river’s far side.

Off the New England shore, Sam Carsten watched the stars come out and wondered.

Far out in space, the duty officer at Benjamin Franklin Station blinked as the high-security line to the 21st Space Wing in Colorado dropped out.

And elsewhere in the Solar System....

---

So, which one do the Folks At Home like more?
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[robkelk]

and they're sufficiently different enough that I don't think I can weave 'em together in any readable fashion

Sounds like a challenge... but I don't have time tonight. Maybe over the long weekend (Canadian Thanksgiving is this Monday), unless a consensus for one or the other emerges before then.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[Dartz]

Either is good. I only did mine because nobody had touched it up until that point.
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?

[Black Aeronaut]

Hrm... I dunno, Mal. Maybe more like an inspired re-write including elements and inspiration from the first two. For one I like how Dartz's version has the brief 'echoes' we see, as well as what happens on the military and infrastucture side of things (any water and sewage connections are going to be a MESS). And from yours I like the multiple view points from within, without, and off to the side.

[M Fnord]

Maybe more like an inspired re-write including elements and inspiration from the first two.

Well, if you've got an idea go for it and we'll put it up along with the others. To be honest, I'm not happy with either of them; mine feels too brief and scattershot, while Dartz's feels too overblown to me. So if you've got a third option, or a fourth or fifth, show me.
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[robkelk]

BTW, the monster that is the GoogleDoc is over 80 pages printed... and we've barely started the story. Just thought folks might like to know.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[M Fnord]

some 32,000 words of actual story, with ~1-2000 words of planning & back n' forth on top of that, last time I looked last night. We are some wordy motherfuckers when you get right down to it, aren't we?
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[robkelk]

Yup. And we're past 90 pages now.

Ah, yes - Here's a "Frankenscene" containing what I think are the best parts of both the current shift scenes, for people's consideration...

---

The clock ticked over, and something happened.

The fog grew still, unnaturally so, as if the moisture in the air had turned to concrete. Inside the wall of mist, the few people still out on the streets could see strange lights playing inside. The lights flickered, twisted and then exploded outward, lighting up the nearby countryside for a few bare milliseconds.

For a few brief moments, it seemed as if the light was coming from everywhere at once. No shadow was cast on the ground beneath. It was an eerie instant of pan-luminescence. Dogs barked and howled madly, dashing in panicked circles, or straining at their leads to run away. Some people of an older generation dove to the ground, ducking down against nearby walls or inside doorways, covering themselves against the expected blast.

There was a distant rumbling sound, like thunder heard from far away ... then a terrible, dreadful stillness.

The fog started to melt away. Slowly at first, then picking up speed, the fog vanished, leaving behind new countryside merged together.

(High above the cloud deck, a lone weather balloon had the best seat in the house for the event. Recovered several days later, the audio recorder someone stuck on for ballast would pick up the roll of distant thunder, along with the sound of gigantic leathery wings flapping and what everybody who heard it would swear was the sound of snickering.)

A ferry pilot off Liberty Island looked up at the Statue in front of him, illuminated in the light. In place of the sword, he could’ve sworn he saw Lady Liberty holding a torch to the sky. He blinked and it was gone.

In Hawaii, phone and Internet connections broke off mid-word, leaving behind puzzled users. The vacationing President's dedicated satellite connection to the White House cut off without warning.

A mechanic at Boston’s Logan Airfield thought for a brief moment that he could hear an ear-splitting whine, as if someone was forcing air through dozens of turbines of some sort. The feeling passed, and all he could hear was the piston engines of the aircraft on the tarmac.

In Mexico, the land looked much as it always did, though the people of Villa Ocampo looked north at the new lights on the horizon and tried to figure out what this meant.

In Quebec, a Canadian engineer watched the load on his generators suddenly drop off.

An operator at the Midwest ISO control centre in St. Paul was startled to find that somehow, he’d lost all generation coming in from Manitoba. He raced to keep the grid from collapsing.

A group of homeless men, gathered together for warmth on Atwater Drive in Detroit, gazed in wonder as the fog cleared and revealed gleaming towers of steel and concrete on the river’s far side.

Off the New England shore, Sam Carsten watched the stars come out and wondered.

Far out in space, the duty officer at Benjamin Franklin Station blinked as the high-security line to the 21st Space Wing in Colorado dropped out.

And elsewhere in the Solar System....
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[M Fnord]

It's not finished, still incomplete, but... oh, the jazz is starting to flow on this scene. The Fen are coming to Philly!

---

Philadelphia Municipal Airport, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
November 25, 1940

(…)

Flora remembered what the other American – she'd begun to capitalize 'other' in her head, and squashed that thought as a dangerous one – ambassador had said about the Fen in the briefing the day before.

~***~

“The Fen are different,” he said, this incredibly green young man who'd apparently been some junior State Department functionary before the world changed underneath them. “They're not green monsters from Mars – or at least most of them aren't,” which didn't inspire confidence in President Smith's group. “We've had our differences over the years, but the one thing we've found is that they do want to help. It's just that their definition of 'help' can be a bit... odd.”

“I see,” Smith said, not really seeing but willing to go along with the assessment. In the perilous situation the United States had found itself, even odd help was better than none. “What can you tell us about these delegates they're sending?”

“They're both faction leaders. Mr. Marsden is – was – is one of our leading industrialists, runs a major mining operation. He's a stalwart American patriot, though his personal politics might cause some friction.” Flora groaned inwardly at this. Even in another universe, the capitalists managed to rise to the top of the heap. “General Fnord,” the diplomat went on, “commands a smaller faction, more openly militarized than Marsden's. Aside from that, he's also got more overt and covert power among the Fen than Marsden, so expect him to lead the discussion.”

“I understand,” said Smith. “Thank you for letting us know this, son.”

“My pleasure, Mr. President.”

~***~

The buzzing was getting louder. It wasn't a physical loudness, where it made speech impossible, but a subliminal one, where the buzzing filled every available silence.

“It has to be nearby,” someone said.

“There!” someone else said, and there it was.

Coming high out of the west was an aeroplane the likes of which none of the people in Philadelphia had ever seen. A broad, flat triangle painted in garish colors swept down across the plain. Instead of propellers, the craft sported two large pods embedded in the wings, each topped with a cap that glowed a fierce blue.

“Amazing,” muttered a Navy officer standing near Flora. “I wonder how they do it?” The man's commanding officer however wasn't nearly so calm.

“Good Lord,” the admiral said, eyes wide as saucers. “That monster is as wide as the Remembrance is long!”

The monstrous aircraft swept down over the American delegation, close enough that they could read the ship's name ('GCU LAIKA') and see the device on the wings (a red and white flower, standing out against the spashes of green, blue and gold) before it gained altitude and moved on towards the city.

“Sonofabitch!” One of the generals attending the arrival snarled. “They're moving off to attack the city!”

“Steady, general,” the president warned.

“But sir!”

“Look, damn it! It's not attacking, it's turning!”

And so it was. The ship made a long, slow, majestic turn, like a runner doing a victory lap, or a new ocean liner making a show cruise around the harbor. All around the city, people stopped and looked up in amazement and a little fear. They'd all heard the Mysteron transmission, and despite the official denials they all wondered what that meant. Now it was clear; the Mysterons weren't only real, they were here.

Speaking for herself, her constituents and her country, Flora Blackford only hoped they came in peace.

~***~

“General, Mr. Marsden, welcome to the United States.” The president paused. “Forgive us, but your arrival was a little overwhelming.”

“It was? Oh dear.” Flora Blackford was more than a little puzzled. Fnord's demeanor was unlike any general – or any military man – she'd ever met. He seemed more like an absent-minded schoolteacher than somebody responsible for the sort of power Laika projected. “I really must apologize, Mr. President. The idea was to impress you, not overwhelm.”

“Oh, believe me General, we were very impressed.” Smith's voice was jolly, but everybody in earshot could tell the bonhomie was forced at best.

“Ah, yes? Well, good, good.” Fnord muttered, glancing at his wristwatch. “Again, my apologies. We didn't mean to frighten anybody.”

Flora couldn't resist the question. “So what would you have done had you meant to frighten us?” she asked.

Fnord peered at her, the absent-mindedness vanishing like fog on a sunny day. “Ah, Madame Blackford,” he said with a sharp-edged smile. “You should see what we sent to Richmond.”

Even though the day was fairly warm for a Pennsylvania November, and for all that she was wearing a heavy coat, Flora shivered.
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[Bob Schroeck]

Guess that's my cue to dig out my partially-completed passage on the GC's cross-country intimidation run...
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[M Fnord]

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR SOUTH IS RISING COLLABORATORS:

If you guys want to scratch out notes or work out a scene between a couple of people, you're going to want to go here: South Is Rising scratchpad and conversation. This is in response to the main draft getting too big and kind of difficult to handle for just sticking notes in.

main draft standing at 34,000 words and counting....
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[robkelk]

This is in response to the main draft getting too big and kind of difficult to handle for just sticking notes in.

main draft standing at 34,000 words and counting....

Or 98 pages printed out.

[size=smaller](No, I'm not actually printing these out - that would waste trees. "Print to PDF" is a wonderful thing...)[/size]
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[Black Aeronaut]

*Download the WIP in RTF format)*

....

*Downloads...*

....

*Downloads some more...*

... We gotta talk about this... in another thread, though. It's gonna be a bit off-topic.

[robkelk]

The ODT version downloads relatively quickly. Got OpenOffice or LibreOffice to read it in?

--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[Black Aeronaut]

Not the issue, Rob, but thanks.

[robkelk]

(notices other thread) So I see.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[M Fnord]

And here's the final bit of the Fen arriving in Philly. Comments, brickbats, etc. --Mal

---

Philadelphia Municipal Airfield, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
November 25, 1940

The air was full of anticipation. Ever since the night of the 18th, when the fog had come down and left a changed world in its wake, the people of the United States were confused, frightened but above all curious about the brave new world they'd landed in. The wireless broadcasts from outer space made the people all the more curious; rumors of strange encounters with stranger things were breaking out all over. Finally, President Smith had decided to meet these rumors head on. He'd invited representatives from the mysterious Fenspace Convention to Philadelphia, for a friendly chat.

He'd done it on national wireless, too, so there would be no secrecy, and the public buzzed with excitement: the Mysterons were coming!

Flora Blackford adjusted her coat and waited, alongside the President and a gaggle of General Staff officers, for the Fen delegation to arrive.

The President and his staff had had a briefing on the Fen from the other American – and it was so hard not to try and capitalize 'other' – ambassador. It was just one surreal moment out of a week that couldn't have been imagined by the wildest pulp authors.

“The Fen are different,” he said, this incredibly green young man who'd apparently been some junior State Department functionary before the world changed underneath them. “They're not green monsters from Mars – or at least most of them aren't,” he added, which didn't inspire confidence in President Smith's group. “We've had our differences over the years, but the one thing we've found is that they do want to help. It's just that their definition of 'help' can be a bit... odd.”

“I see,” Smith said, not really seeing but willing to go along with the assessment. In the perilous situation the United States had found itself, even odd help was better than none. “What can you tell us about these diplomats they're sending?”

“They're both faction leaders. Mr. Marsden is – was – is one of our leading industrialists, runs a major mining operation among other things. He's a stalwart American patriot, though his personal politics might cause some friction.” Flora groaned inwardly at this. Even in another universe, the capitalists managed to rise to the top of the heap. “General Fnord,” the diplomat went on, “commands a smaller faction, more openly militarized than Marsden's. Aside from that, he's also got more overt and covert power among the Fen than Marsden, so expect him to lead the discussion.”

“I understand,” said Smith. “Thank you for letting us know this, son.”

“My pleasure, Mr. President.”

~***~

After that perfunctory briefing, Flora had arranged for some more research on her own, courtesy of her son Joshua's collection of pulp magazines and novels. All of them had lurid covers, usually involving odd-looking monsters threatening half-naked women, and were filled with square jawed men being ridiculously noble and heroic. It was, by Flora's estimation, all very juvenile stuff.

“Still,” she murmured, “these people seem to have made it work as a civilization.”

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Blackford, did you say something?” asked the Navy man she'd ended up standing next to.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she replied. “Just thinking out loud, is all. I was thinking about our guests.”

The Navy man grinned. “There's a lot of that going around these days. I'm looking forward to grilling some of these Fen people on how they stay alive in space.”

Flora's eyebrows rose. “Are you speaking professionally, Mr...?”

The man had the grace to look abashed. “Heinlein, ma'am, Commander Bob Heinlein. And I suppose I am speaking professionally, though not as a naval officer.” He shrugged. “I used to write the stuff, you see.”

“Oh,” said Flora, enlightened.

“Yes, ma'am.” Heinlein paused. “It's an honor to speak to you, by the way. I was an admirer of your husband, worked for his campaign back in '32.”

“Really? I didn't think a General Staff officer would have approved of Hosea.”

“I was a green Lieutenant out on an invalid discharge back then. They only reactivated me when some admiral noticed a magazine with my name on it and put two and two together. Guess they're hoping my 'experience' making stuff up for the pulps translates into understanding these Mysteron people.”

“You shouldn't call them that,” Flora chided. Heinlein shrugged.

“They're the ones who started that flabble,” he said, and Flora couldn't disagree with that. Heinlein glanced at his watch. “They seem to be running fashionably late,” he noted. “They said they'd be here right about now and I don't see-”

Whatever Heinlein was about to say was cut off, as a terrible CRACK tore through the sky. Everybody in the waiting welcoming party, members of the press and bystanders alike all reflexively flinched. One distinguished general threw himself onto the dry grass.

“What was that!?” cried a reporter. “Are they bombing us?”

The echoes of the crack died away, replaced by a rumbling sound, like an avalanche. Whatever it was, the sound was a distant cry from the droning sound of a propeller.

“It has to be nearby,” someone said.

“There!” someone else said, and there it was.

Coming high out of the west was an aeroplane the likes of which none of the people in Philadelphia had ever seen. A broad, flat triangle painted in garish colors swept down across the plain. Instead of propellers, the craft sported two large pods embedded in the wings, each topped with a cap that glowed a fierce blue.

“Shema yisrael, adonai eloheinu adonai ehad,” Flora whispered, all she could say in the face of something so utterly alien.

“Amazing,” Heinlein muttered. “I wonder how they do it?” The man's commanding officer however wasn't nearly so calm.

“Good Lord,” the admiral said, eyes wide as saucers. “That monster is as wide as the Remembrance is long!”

The gigantic aircraft swept down over the American delegation, close enough that they could read the ship's name ('GCU LAIKA') and see the device on the wings (a red and white flower, standing out against the spashes of green, blue and gold) before it gained altitude and moved on towards the city.

“Sonofabitch!” One of the generals attending the arrival snarled. “They're moving off to attack the city!”

“Steady, general,” the president warned.

“But sir!”

“Look, damn it! It's not attacking, it's turning!”

And so it was. The ship made a long, slow, majestic turn, like a runner doing a victory lap, or a new ocean liner making a show cruise around the harbor. All around the city, people stopped and looked up in amazement and a little fear. They'd all heard the Mysteron transmission, and despite the official denials they all wondered what that meant. Now it was clear; the Mysterons weren't only real, they were here.

Speaking for herself, her constituents and her country, Flora Blackford only hoped they came in peace.

The ship – Laika – approached the airfield, slowing to not much faster than a brisk walking pace. She swept over the runway, turning towards the place where the welcoming party stood. Laika inched over until she came to a complete stop not a hundred feet away from the awed bystanders. Then, with deliberate slowness, she dropped to the ground, landing legs extended. When the legs touched earth, the rumbling noise stopped, the bright blue glow coming from the engine pods dimming until the bystanders could see what looked like giant fan blades twirling inside globes of blue glass.

~***~

“All stop, engines parked. Welcome to Bizarro-USA, circa 1940.”

“Thank you, Major, that was excellent flying. Diplomatic party meet at the main hatch in five, and everybody remember where we've parked.”

~***~

The reception party watched the ship’s hacth open, and a long gangway extend down to the ground. With the ship’s engines idle, silence reigned on the field. Despite assurances from other nations, nobody knew what the Fen would look like. Were they still human? Alien monsters? Some sort of robot?

Flora Blackford, in the course of her ‘research’ into the matter, had conjured up two possibilites – either the Fen would be square-jawed, bronzed heroes like the ones from Joshua’s pulps, or they’d be green, bald and blulging eyes, with four arms and carrying rayguns, again like Joshua’s pulps. As the Fen party emerged from the ship, she was struck by how far off the mark her speculations were. The two leading the small group out of Laika were downright average specimens of humanity.

The first man was tall and broad-shouldered, with an aristocratic face framed by close-cropped dark brown hair. He walked with a confident stride, eyes flicking back and forth at the assembled group warily, like he expected a gunman or a wild animal to jump out of the crowd at any second. The other was shorter and more average in build, his bearded, weatherbeaten face less hard-edged than his companion. The two women accompanying them, however, fit the exotic image Flora had constructed in her mind. Behind the taller man walked a small, pale-skinned woman with blue hair, and behind the shorter a tall Indian woman glided forward, a calculating look in her dark eyes.

The odd little party stopped directly in front of the president. The shorter man snapped off a salute. “Mr. President,” he said, grey eyes twinkling behind half-moon glasses. “General Malaclypse Fnord, Soviet Air Force. We're your diplomatic party. May I introduce Mr. Christopher Marsden,” he gestured to the taller man, “chief executive of Greenwood, and our aide de camps, Captain Weatheral,” a gesture to the Indian, and then to the blue-haired woman: “and Ms. Ayanami.”

There was a moment – perhaps a little more awkward than it should've been – while the two delegations sized each other up. Then somebody coughed, and President Smith jolted into action. “General, Mr. Marsden, welcome to the United States.” The president paused. “Forgive us, but your arrival was a little overwhelming.”

“It was? Oh dear.” Flora Blackford was more than a little puzzled. Fnord's demeanor was unlike any general – or any military man – she'd ever met. He seemed more like an absent-minded schoolteacher than somebody responsible for the sort of power Laika projected. “I really must apologize, Mr. President. The idea was to impress you, not overwhelm.”

“Oh, believe me General, we were very impressed.” Smith's voice was jolly, but everybody in earshot could tell the bonhomie was forced at best.

“Ah, yes? Well, good, good.” Fnord muttered. “Again, my apologies. We didn't mean to frighten anybody.”

Flora couldn't resist the question. “So what would you have done had you meant to frighten us?” she asked.

Fnord peered at her, the absent-mindedness vanishing like fog on a sunny day. “Ah, Madame Blackford,” he said with a sharp-edged smile. “You should see what we sent to Richmond.”

Even though the day was fairly warm for November in Pennsylvania, and for all that she was wearing a heavy coat, Flora shivered.
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[robkelk]

Here's a little something I just dropped into the scratchpad file. It may be of interest to folks who want to play in this story but don't want to take part in the war...

---

The Other Story Arc

Current plans for "finding the lost FTL's USA" is for Noah to crack open the grimoires in the original Whole Fenspace Catalog, build a mage who knows something about both spellcasting and teaching so the operation isn't going from a standing start, get the artificial mage to use the grimoires to train up as many people with magical potential as he can find, and concentrate on the magical methods of locating and reaching the Lost Continent. Let's let Infinity and Centrum do the tech-based searching - that's what they do best, after all.

Noah does not have magical potential - he has a long-standing magical spell effect upon him, which will be addressed in the R. Honami Project (see below). Safety has magical potential, being an angel as well as an "angel". Kohran has a very low magical potential - Magery 0 in GURPS terms - which won't let her cast any of the really useful spells. The rest of the Stellvians don't even have enough magical ability to light a candle.

There are a few tests in the grimoires to determine whether somebody has Magery - Noah will be spreading this test around to locate potential spellcasters. Bob indicated in version 0.1a that some of the Grovers' Corners folks have magical potential. I strongly suggest that any character that already has a lot of Cool (e.g. Noah, Ben, Mal, A.C., Vulpine Fury, Haruhi, Sabre) not have Magery - we've already established their characters can function just fine without it. Besides, most of those characters are busy with Operation FIREFALL. If you've got somebody who's been in the background all this time, though, now's the perfect chance to let them take a level in badass-mage...

~***~

The R. Honami Project

Noah's already noticed that his "angels" wake up with some skills pre-loaded. He's hoping that 'waving an "angel" based on a mage character will give her magical abilities. His contact with an actual mage (and a goddess) back in LoGG gives him just enough of a residual magical charge for this to work - the magic will flow from Noah to Honami. (This has the happy side-effect of turning his hair and eyes back to their original colour, and the disasterous side-effect of giving him a thionite craving for a while. But he'll get over that, probably with A.C.'s help, and Yayoi can run StellviaCorp while Noah's going through rehab. Noah'd better get well before the balloon goes up and Yayoi is seconded to FIREFALL...)

Calling in Kana Ueda-san to assist in an attempt to get some of the abilities of her other powerful mage character works... sort of. Yes, R. Honami will be one of the stronger mages in the multiverse once she learns to work with her newfound power. (Not Lina-Inverse level - "just" Hayate-Yagami-without-the-Unison-Device level.) But trying on purpose to give R. Honami some of the abilities of another of her seiyuu's roles introduces a case of multiple-personality disorder into the poor girl. She's usually Honami, but...

• When there's a need for military tactics or incredible magical power, she's Hayate Yagami, the tactically-sound, powerful, not-particularly-precise combat mage from Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha StrikerS.
  
• When there's a need for detective work or mechanical repair, she's Shizuka Hayama, the meganekko engineer from Daphne in the Brilliant Blue. (This is particularly annoying because there's already a R. Shizuka Hayama in StellviaCorp. Luckily, Shizuka is a very understanding person, and each instance will be willing to treat her other-self as a sister.)
  
• When there's a need for casual mayhem or domestic work (as much as tidying her own room), she's Nanami Nanashiro, the sort-of-meganekko maid from Nogizaka Haruka no Himitsu.
  

These personalities are inside her head, and won't be going away. Ever. Even if they're downloaded into their own bodies (which won't work). Basically, she swaps personas according to the situation; they usually let Honami run the body because it looks like Honami, but they do each need to be let out for at least a few hours every week.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[Bob Schroeck]

Bob indicated in version 0.1a that some of the Grovers' Corners folks have magical potential.

And just as a reminder, most of those are children. And my avatar isn't among the remainder.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[robkelk]

And just as a reminder, most of those are children. And my avatar isn't among the remainder.

Which means they don't go anywhere near the front lines, folks. Not even by accident.

On a related note, Honami's now in the FenWiki.

--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012