Excerpt: Balloons of the Apocalypse

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The Luddite's Prayer:
Our Composer,
Who Art in Hoven,
Hallowed be Thy Symphony,
Thy Overture come,
Thy Composition be done,
Over the Earth and throughout the heavens.
On this day, our souls will fill,
and You will take us into Your arms
as we will perform for those who wrong us,
and lead us not into the void of pianissimo,
but deliver us unto Your Opus Fortissimo mit Freude.

Marlowe's 1st: Out of the Frying Pan...

Chased out of town by a gang of murderous Beethoven fanatics on his honeymoon. It couldn't get any worse, thought Marlowe. He tried to hold the gun steady, but it kept sliding along the roll bar with every shimmy and lurch of the jeep. The final movement of Beethoven's First Symphony, blaring over the speakers, provided an additional distraction. He wanted Nina to turn it off before every shot he took, but the rental jeep didn't have any controls for the radio. All Beethoven, all the time, courtesy of your friends at Beet City. A bullet whizzed by his head, reminding him that there were far more deadly things to be irritated with just now.

Marlowe ducked, far too late after the fact. “I said this was a bad idea at the time. Remember?”

They were off road, in the middle of the desert, heading northwest towards home, but very far away from sanctuary. The Beeters were far enough back to make the shot tricky if he was standing still; propped up in the back of a bouncing jeep in the middle of the night did little to improve his accuracy. He aimed for the dim headlights and fired off another shot. Small blossoms of light erupted around the three vehicles behind them, but that was probably returning fire and not hits. Turning to bark an order at Nina, he felt the heat and smelled the ozone of another projectile as it sizzled past his nose. He dropped back down into his seat.

“Nina, can you stop jerking this thing around so much? I can't even hit the ground with all this!”

Nina cranked the wheel hard to the left in answer. “You'd prefer we make it nice and easy for them to hit us?”

“No, I guess not.” Marlowe nearly fell out at Nina's next maneuver, which sent the jeep careening to the right. As more shots whizzed overhead and banged against the car, he contemplated putting on his seatbelt. It would keep him in the vehicle, but seriously impair his ability to return fire.

“Hey, think you can call for help?” Panic was beginning to creep into her voice, something so unusual it made Marlowe's stomach, already unhappily enduring the wild ride, drop even lower.

“I can try, but you need to hold the jeep steady.”

“No promises,” Nina replied.

Marlowe grabbed the roll bar and pulled himself up again. He started scanning the night sky, trying to find the satellite. Beet City had strict rules about access beyond the city, so Marlowe had been forced to rely on satellite communications. House had given him extensive instructions on how to align on the satellite, but as with the shooting, his accuracy was severely hampered by the rough movements of the jeep. He looked for the triangular head of the constellation Draco, but the sky was a black sponge with jerky spots of white creating streaks of starlight. He activated the image stabilization implant in his left eye, but while this made the night sky snap into sharper focus, there was still a real-time lag that made lining up on the satellite next to impossible.

“Any luck?” asked Nina as she induced a particularly violent lurch from the jeep. Marlowe found himself staring at the ground zipping past them, hanging precariously from the roll bar, knuckles white with the exertion of keeping him in the vehicle. He eased back into the jeep and resumed his efforts to acquire the satellite while simultaneously looping the loose seatbelt over his free hand, over and over again.

“Can you hold it steady for just a few seconds?” Marlowe replied. “I've got a prepared message all ready to send out.” Not that it would do any good, he thought. Any help would be hours away. And why the hell were these Beeters gunning for them, anyway?

Nina said nothing, but the jeep's motion became less erratic. She was compensating for this with higher speed. The last time Marlowe had looked at the speedometer, the needle was already pegged all the way to the right. He shuddered to think how fast they were going now, and could make out some unsettling noises coming from the engine. Coupled that with the bullet holes, and he calculated long odds indeed on getting his security deposit back.

Even without the image stabilization, the sky was much clearer. Marlowe found Draco and started sweeping his eyes back and forth, attempting to sync up with the satellite carrier signal. A green dot flashed in his field of view as a signal was detected. It began to blink faster and faster.

“Got it! Syncing now!” Marlowe took some satisfaction in knowing he'd at least be able to give House some of the details of his impending death. And a location, which left open the possibility of the recovery of his remains and resurrection. But Nina, having eschewed nano probes and a Personal Digital Implant, had no such option. Then the 'Sync Failed – Unknown Carrier Signal' error message flashed across his field of view. “Dammit, something went wrong.” The signal strength indicator still showed a strong signal, and Marlowe had the sinking feeling this was going to be one of those problems he wouldn't be able to solve. At least not in the limited time he had left.

Marlowe shifted his head slightly, hoping that seeing things from a new angle would make a solution come to light. As soon as he did, a second signal indicator popped up, stronger than the first. He crossed his fingers as the sync icon for the new signal blinked on.

“Wait, I got another signal. Weird, there appear to be two satellite signals.”

A cluster of thunks came from the back of the jeep. Marlowe wasn't sure if it was the jeep itself, or more hits from the incoming fire.

“Can I start weaving again,” Nina shouted.

'Connection established' flashed across Marlowe's eyes. He sent his message, marked 'Urgent', to House. His left eye thrummed, and his vision timpanied despite the image stabilization as he transmitted. That vibration during transmission always gave Marlowe the willies, and he wondered exactly what microwave damage the nano probes had to repair after every broadcast. “Well, they'll have a pretty good idea where to look for our bodies.”

The windshield exploded, and a moment later the jeep was weaving erratically again. “Sorry,” said Nina, “but that was too close. Did you get through?”

“I think so,” said Marlowe as he turned around and brought his gun back up. “But the cavalry won't be here for some time, assuming my brother is willing to send them in. Technically that would be an act of war.”