Dust settles.
Iron rusts.
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks.

Slingshot: Hi folks! Today I have Cadet_Joe from Activision with me. He unexpectedly flew up to Alberta, Canada from the sunny US just so he could talk about this new CTP2 project!

Cadet_Joe: Thanks Slingshot. You know, I always love comming up to Canada. You Canadians are such good Activision customers!

Slingshot: That's because we have nothing better to do with our time - it's too cold to do anything outside. But anyways, let's talk Civ!

Cadet_Joe: Fine idea! CTP2 is going to be everything you Apolytoners wanted. In fact, just about every new idea we're incorporating came from your 500-page list!

Slingshot: That's not too hard to believe. 500 pages covers a lot of stuff.

Cadet_Joe: Righty-O. We have been working on this project day and night. No rest for the wicked, you know.

Slingshot: Um, sure. Wickedly good, you mean?

Cadet_Joe: Heh heh ... In fact, we've been working so hard that nobody even thought about telling our fans what was going on. People are running around so fast, delivering the latest in Apolyton suggestions. One day I was typing some epic CTP2 SLIC code, and this guy runs past me at lightning speed...

Slingshot: And then?

Cadet_Joe: His shirt sleeve button caught my ear...

Slingshot: And then?

Cadet_Joe: Totally by accident, my head was RIPPED from my body!

Slingshot: Oh, dear!

Cadet_Joe: You bet! It took four managers to restore order. I was in intensive care for 3 days.

Slingshot: That's all?

Cadet_Joe: (Activision doesn't have the best medical plan, Slingshot). But anyways, the Activision Investigators - that's Actigators for short... They ruled that Apolyton was responsible for raising the level of excitment for CTP2 to unacceptable levels here at Activision. In essence Apolyton was responsible for my stay at the hospital, and the escalation in health-care premiums. As a result, no more contact with Apolyton.

Slingshot: Wow! I'm sorry that Apolyton caused Activision so much trouble!

Cadet_Joe: It's okay. We just have to lay low for a while. CTP should be released in the fall, and I think management will allow us to field new Apolyton suggestions in December.

Slingshot: So that means you're going to put out a patch?

Cadet_Joe: You bet! And if you think CTP2 is going to be good, just wait until you see the CTP2 patch!

Since no one else is listening, I guess I'll ramble on some more....

That last imaginary interview went well, I think.

So well, in fact, that I believe Activision would probably want to reinstate Slingshot-led interviews with other Activision team members!

Imagine they flew me down to find CTP1's lead lady Cici Garagas!

Slingshot: Hi Ms. Garagas. I was sure tough finding you here at this gas station. Why are you working here instead of Activision?

Cici: It was awful! It all had to do with those nasty Apolytoners. You aren't one of them, are you?

Slingshot: Um, me? Oh no! Heh heh, I'm just a Canadian - wouldn't criticize anybody!

Cici: That's good. You see, I though we did a good job and all with what we had…

Slingshot: Sure! You tackled probably the most difficult programming project - next to a bug-free version of Windows - and came out with a unique style of Civ!

Cici: Thanks. You Canadians are nice!

Slingshot: We try. Really, there's nothing else to do up there but be good. It's always so cold!

Cici: But anyways, my termination of employment was orchestrated by the evil Actigators. They have always been jealous of us Actigrammers…

Slingshot: Activision programmers?

Cici: You're smarter than you look, Slingshot! That's right. It seems that they saw what Apolyton was saying - about how the interface was un-Civish. Those evil people! They were a curse from the start - what with their moronic radical ideas and all.

Slingshot: We've been having troubles with moronic radicals as well, it seems…

Cici: Well it was war I tell you. And guess who lost… Me!

Slingshot: Cici, I am certain that someone of your programming calibre could find a new job in, say a Big, Huge Gaming Company.

Cici: Oh sure, if only there was such a Big, Huge Company! Sigh! You'd think that if there were such a company, they would have a web-site with something on it.

Slingshot: I know. It sounds like a Big, Huge Secret these days.

Cici: But to tell you the truth, I'm a little bored with TBS these days. Maybe it would be good to try a new spin on RTS!

Slingshot: I'll keep you posted if I hear about any Big, Huge Gaming Companies that are filled with people who are tired of TBS games, with a whimsical desire for trying a new spin on RTS. It sounds like a tall order, and I'm usually not the best informed!

Cici: Thanks. Now you'll have to come up with some real currency for the gas. No self-respecting American is going to accept that Canadian stuff! And remember, stay away from the evil Actigators! Speak only to the nice Actigrammers! Of course, most of the Actijanitors are nice as well, but you never can tell these days.

Slingshot: Thanks for the tips. We Canadians can't carry guns around with us, so we're practically sitting ducks!

Cici: What about hand grenades? You can carry around hand grenades, can't you?

Slingshot: Hi Sieve, nice to speak with you today!

Sieve: The feelings mutual, friend. And wow, its great to be here representing Activision as an Acitigrammer. I was the head Actigrammer for CTP1, you know.

Slingshot: Sure. Activision had a long, proud history of programming. Heck, I remember playing their blockbuster game Chopper Command back in the early 80's on a Peanut 2600 game console.

Sieve: Oh yeah! That was when men were men, and Peanut 2600's were king! You know, the best part about the early days was that customers had such different views on SLIC graphics.

Slingshot: What do you mean, Sieve?

Sieve : Well for starters, everything could be represented on the screen by a block, and that was okay! A golf ball was a white block. A golfer's head was a yellow block. Bullets were black blocks. And those Chopper Command helicopters …

Slingshot: Yes? Go on!

Sieve: They were made up entirely out of blocks! 16 to be exact.

Slingshot: Cool! Think of it, one little symbol had so much meaning!

Sieve: Yep. But then came along the new generation. 8-bit games just weren't enough. The Peanut 2600 console was flooded with competition, and they had to adapt.

Slingshot: Adapt?

Sieve : Righty-O! They retaliated with the Peanut 400ST. It had a huge store of memory - 1 meg to be exact. Activision's proud tradition of block-programming was being threatened, too!

Slingshot: Oh my, what did you do?

Sieve: We had to fight fire with fire. All Actigrammers threw out the Lego™ sets and became fluent with the ancient programming arts of the Orient.

Slingshot: Sounds sinister. Did that work?

Sieve : Oh no! But Actigrammers felt like they could be cool again. Sometimes we would walk the streets (of Street Fighter™) and whoop some gangmember but! Things really changed with the advent of our newest secret weapon - the Actigators!

Slingshot: Ouch! Even the name smarts. You mean the Activision Negotiators, right?

Sieve : In the flesh - I mean, in the silicon.

Slingshot: Silicon?

Sieve : Oh yes (Sieve looks around in fear) they were originally an AI life-form, designed to come up with cunning ways to keep Activision customers busy with marketing hype.

Slingshot: Of that I'm sure. As I understand, Apolyton was formed as an Anti-polymorphing-Actigator-Faction. Apolyton for short.

Sieve : Wow, complex!

Slingshot: They had to be complex in the early days. Apolyton had a lot of marketing hypsters to thwart. Nowadays, they'll let anyone become a registered member.

Sieve : Like yourself?

Slingshot: Uh, yeah. Anyways, about the
Actigators…

Sieve : One day, they discovered a technology called the Beef Vat. It allowed the synthesis of tissue from electrons.

Slingshot: Gotta love that! Free steaks for everyone!

Sieve : Hurrah! Er, actually it became a powerful weapon for the AI entity. They learned how to synthesize human, polymorphic forms. Now they roam the corridors of Activision, manipulating HR policy, hiring sympathizing Actigrammers, firing the rabble-rousers. They were the ones who invented ideas like patches. They were the ones who have sucked the life right out of the Actigrammers. We're so busy, we can't even talk to the fans who made Activision who they are!

Slingshot: Ah, the truth is out! Well thanks for your time. I suppose you'll be killed when you return to Activision because of this interview.

Sieve : Without a doubt, I'll be tortured and killed. But anything for you Apolyton fans!

I am thoroughly enjoying it. How about an interview with THE man himself, Sid. Surely he has thoughts (and possibly insight) into Activision, CtP1 and CtP2.

Several times Sieve almost cracked under the pressure. The worst was during the night, when his TBS units emulated Civ:CTP speech. "Find the enemy!" they would say. "Find the enemy!…. CLICK-CLICK, CLICKITY-CLICK!" and then, the questions. "Mr. Manicotti, tell us about the outside. Tell us about the enemy." Sieve fought against the ropes that tied his hands to the mouse, and the rest of him to the chair. The room started spinning, and then everything went dark…

Sieve's delusional slumber was shattered by the sound of a blast, followed by a deafening ROAR!

Then silence. There was the sound of footsteps and shouts down a long corridor.
Another second, and another a boom echoed over the cold, stone floor. It was followed by the screech of an overheated mini gun, contested by the icy clink-clinking of empty brass cartridges falling on stone. The sounds reminded him of the CLICKITY-CLICK of his mouse. "It's alive!" he screamed. "Okay, I'll talk! I'll talk now! Just keep the mouse away!"

Seconds went by. Why wasn't the mouse making any more noise? Sieve's mind raced. Something was wrong, and he was going to die.

"Over here!" a voice yelled. "He's over here!"

Sieve saw the ceiling start to swirl again. "It's all over," he thought. "This is the end, TBS has beaten me." The poor Actigrammer struggled one last time against the shackles holding his hand and feet to the chair. There was another pop, but this was real close. Then a crash, and two dark silhouettes burst into the room.

Sieve started to babble. "Keep the mouse away! I'll talk now. Don't let the mouse get me. I'll find the enemy for you, I'll find the enemy for you…."

"Poor guy," said skorpion59.

"Ugh, the humanity!" answered eisduotres.

"It's a good thing Slingshot liked our comments, and wrote us into the script as Apolyton agents!"

"The mini-guns are especially cool!" skorpion replied, admiring the dark sheen of the smoking barrel. "But there's no time to loose! Let's get this guy back to the Actigrammer pool so he can finish CTP2!"

It never hurts to start writing. The worst that can happen is that people won't like it - and then we try again !

On this thread, I'm trying to stay Civish. Gotta keep from getting kicked out

"So are you going to start now or what?" asked skorpion.

"Sure, doesn't matter" replied eisduotres.

Nothing seemed to phase the younger agent much. It was a quality that skorpion admired, although he knew it was also a dangerous one. The older agent had been around long enough to see more than one bold comrade bite off more than he could chew.

Without delay, eisduotres took a small laser cutter from his belt and darkened his visor. After a quick glance at the conduit, he began cutting a square in the conduit shielding.

"Keep the heat down, eis" whispered skorpion nervously. "I'm worried about the IR sensors picking it up!"

But eis was already finished. "All done. No alarms. Simple" he stated. The back of the cutter was magnetic, which he attached to the newly-made square. The piece broke away, exposing a thick fibre-optic bundle.

Skorpion was pleased. "Two minutes until the transmission. I'll get the decryption subroutines up and running if you set up the hardware."

"Roger."

In silence the two assembled some shiny probes. To avoid detection, the probe leads were connected to a single processor with shielded cables.

"I sure hope this works" said eis.

The comment startled skorpion. "What do you mean? You should have raised your doubts at the briefing."

"I didn't have any then. But this conduit looks different. I mean, what's with the extra wiring at the bottom?"

There was no time to think about that. Skorpion energized the detector and ran a fast check. "Just keep an eye on our signal inductance" he said.

The display panel sparked to life. The communications data that streamed past was intercepted by the probes. Occasionally one or two bytes were captured by the processor and placed in a decryption column. The two didn't expect a long message. This was probably going to be a single word from Sieve, who had been reintegrated into the Actigrammer guild under a new alias.

"First letter, M" said skorpion. "Second letter, hmmm. Skipping. Third letter, T. Something wierd. Skipping. Now N…… Final letter… hmmmm."

A little irritated, eis asked "What's with all the 'humming'? And keep your induction voltage down. You're getting close to background levels!"

"Sorry, I keep getting this data spike. It's coming from a weird frequency modulation." He had one more minute before the lithium-powered probes were designed to self-destruct, and he intended to use it to get the other three letters.

The FM spike was bizarre. "Why am I seeing this?" skorpion thought. He gave a nervous glance at eis, who had begun pacing back and forth.

"It's taking too long. The signal must be gone by now!"

Eis had a point. But this recurring spike had skorpion stumped. How do you get an FM signal on a closed circuit band? he thought. What's the point? Unless there was another probe at another location, but who else was expecting a message? Of course, their equipment made its own FM signal, and if one created a matching field, one could…

Skorpion's blood went cold. "Somebody's on to us! "

The agent yanked the cables from his computer. Eis saw his comrade' frantic movements and needed no coaxing. The two fled to a corner of the building where escape ropes were stowed.

"Oh, no! Oh no! Oh no!" stammered skorpion. His mind raced as he thought of a way out. "We can't let them know it was us! Even if they know someone was listening…"

Eis looked back. A door at the far corner burst open, and out poured Actigator agents. Their silaceous forms gleamed in moonlight that was far too bright for the young agent's taste. He pulled out a plasma rifle and opened fire.

Time blurred. Skorpion looked for a way out. There was no time to use the ropes, and nowhere to hide once they got to the streets below. The agent stared downwards, then grinned.

"Nothing seemed to phase the younger agent much. It was a quality that skorpion admired, although he knew it was also a dangerous one. The older agent had been around long enough to see more than one bold comrade bite off more than he could chew."

I knew something bad was going to happen...

Yep, it looks like the AA's are in trouble. But never fear, the STARS rarely get killed in the first couple of chapters, do they?

Great story! It's the only thing that makes me still come to these CtP2 forums How about introducion some of the 'Great ModMakers', such as CD, TP, Dutcheese, Wes, Nordicus. I wouldn't mind being part of the story myself (even though I don't really fit in that list of names ) Keep up the good work!

Hey, great stuff. 'Bout time another Albertan started spewing and carrying on...God knows I'm sick of making an ass outta myself

“Three letters and a tonne of raw data.” replied Locutus. “That’s better than three letters!”

MarkG grunted. The eternal optimist was right. It was possible that the Apolyton server could find three more needles in the haystack. But MarkG was feeling irritable these days. He hated sending good agents on risky missions. He really hated it when they didn’t report in.

And MarkG didn’t have the time to chase down agents missing in action – even ones as good as skorpion and eis. “Locutus, patch this data over to DanQ. He’ll crack it if anybody can.”

Locutus tapped on his keyboard, sat back and grinned. “Gotta love those Canadian winters. These days they have all sorts of time to spend code-cracking.”

“Yeah, sure.” replied MarkG. He didn’t care. The worst part was the feeling that Apolyton was being toyed with.

Of course, Locutus knew that – it was probably why he was being so optimistic. Somebody needed to lighten the mood. But the missing agents were only part of the mystery. The other part was the mysterious package containing the transmission data….

Locutus sat up in his chair. “So why did you fly me to Greece? It must have been more than to enjoy the good weather.”

MarkG smiled. “I need your talents for a job. What’s on your plate these days?”

“Not much,” replied the agent. He stood and restated his question. “What’s on your mind, boss?”

“DanQ and I think you should pay a visit to Activision. Here are your briefing papers. Let’s make it formal and diplomatic. Tell them it’s a visit to find out about CTP2 development. Pretend as if you don’t know what’s going on. Let’s see how carefully they watch.”

“Sure thing, MarkG. Cool and professional. Just the way I like it!” Locutus flipped through the file.

MarkG sighed. When times got tough, it was his agents that made life bearable. The director leaned back in his chair. Times had changed. He started to drift back to the days when he carried out the missions, and how different they were.

Suddenly, a coded window popped up on his video screen. It was from DanQ. “Wow, that guy is fast!” remarked MarkG. He clicked the decrypt button, and a new window popped up. Inside was a single word. The director turned as his friend was walking out the door. “Locutus?”

“Yes sir!”

“Make certain you bring Nordicus with you.”

Locutus went pale. “It’s that bad, is it?”

MarkG gave a cold stare. “How do you spell mutiny?”

(Sorry I took so long to get here, man. I don't often visit the CTP2 forum. There's usually not much here. If you're looking for someone to fill another character, I'd be happy to provide my services for a worthy cause such as that of Apolyton! "For the betterment of Civ games everywhere!")

I rather like you stories. I am game. Go ahead and include me in them if you want to.

Regards,

I rather like your stories. I'm game. Go ahead and include me in them if you want to.

Regards,

But the true gift was the software it contained. The latest build of Dinosaurs was on these babies, and what a program it was!

The Apolyton recruit had been playing for hours now, oblivious to the people around him. He had finally evolved to an Albertosaurus - deadlier than a raptor, and hungry enough to feast on the AI's group of brontosaurus. Carefully he laid in wait, as his prey waded through a watering hole, closer and closer to the shore.

The tension was almost unbearable. In moments he would have them. They were so stupid. "Heh heh," thought Slinghot. "They'll never know what's coming!"

And finally the creatures were near enough for a kill. With a glup of glee, Slingshot-gone-carnivore leaped out of his bushy camoflauge. "You're bronto-burger!" he shouted.

Surprised, the great beasts screamed and made a dash for the deep water. Slingshot let out a mighty ROAR, and bolted after them. "Wow!" he thought. "They fell for it! They're sooooo d-"

He never finished the sentence. In real life, Slingshot had been running around the airport, unaware of the screams of mothers as they grabbed children from his predatory rampage. The escalator hadn't been so forgiving. And the recruit found himself on a one-way flight to the marble floor below.

A dark figure watched the entire show with obvious amusement. The smile looked odd. It was jagged, as though his skin wasn't designed to bend much. "Well that problem seems to have taken care of itself! Carbon-based life is so prone to distraction, and so easy to deceive."

Thirty minutes later, the arrival door opened. Out walked Locutus, looking tired from a long trip. He quickly scanned the crowd of faces, looking for some red-faced, overexcited recruit to identify himself.

Time passed. Shouts and warm embraces greeted long-lost relatives and loved ones as the plane emptied. Still no one. Finally, an odd-looking fellow hobbled to the Agent. "Your bag, sir," was all he said. The youth turned on his heel and left as quietly and awkwardly as he came.

"I'll never know why you like to stay here," remarked Locutus.

"Sun," replied Nordicus. "It may get darn cold, but there is always a ray or two of sunshine."

"This is true," remarked Locutus. "In the Netherlands I haven't seen natural light for weeks! But then there's Greece. A little rain in the winter, and that wonderful Mediterranean Sea…"

"You mean nothing but the Mediterranean, crowding up against rugged mountains. If you love crowds, Greece is the place for you. I'll take prairies and the Rocky Mountains any day!"

Locutus scowled. "You North Americans! You're so in love with your continent that nobody could tell you of a better place. Now you'll be saying God Himself lives here, and he's forgotten about the rest of the World"

"Many would say that God has forgotten about the whole World - maybe you could ask Cybershy about that. Regardless, it is always good to be in the company of friends."

"Likewise," replied Locutus. Nordicus was a smooth talker. He always got his point across, and he was always seemed to make a person feel good about hearing it. "But anyways, tell me about your operations here. It seems you have been cracking the whip lately."

"Whatever do you mean?" was the reply. "We always run a tight ship around here!" Nordicus was smiling.

"Sure you do. And your agents are naturally the most relaxed in the entire organization. Except for that fellow at the airport this morning."

"You mean Slingshot? He's got a good head on his shoulders, although he's awfully clumsy, and not one who likes to focus. I thought that this job was simple enough."

"The way he was walking, he must have broken both legs a few years back. Of course, he couldn't have hurt himself nearly as bad as the guy who jumped down a flight of escalators."

Nordicus was amazed. "You're kidding. Some fool jumped off to the ground below. Was he on drugs or just crazy?"

"From what I heard, he must have been crazy. The guy was growling like a bear or something. He shouted 'You're bronto-burger!' and took the leap."

Nordicus gave a thoughtful stare. "You know, that sounds like something Slingshot would do. Well, I wouldn't have thought he'd jump around, but lately he's been into an eyeglass Dino game."

"Dinos!" That was too much for Locutus. "You certainly have been letting the troops slide… Dinosaurs instead of Civ. Shameful!"

"Forget the shame. I want to know more about your suitcase delivery boy." Nordicus tapped a button on his keyboard. A lovely face popped up on the screen. It was Apolyton's Virtual Assistant 5.0

"What can I do for you?" it asked.

"Get me Slingshot," he replied.

There was no answer. Then the face said, "Slingshot is unavailable... Searching… Slingshot is at the University hospital… Intensive care. Should I notify his wife?"

Nordicus stared wide-eyed. "I think you had better. And get me a hammer! I'm going to knock some sense into his head!"

The news didn't make Locutus feel very good. "That leaves a big question about who gave me this suitcase."

"And of course we've opened it in this office." Nordicus tapped his keyboard some more.

"What can I do for you?" asked the Virtual Assistant.

Good stuff, keep it up. Like everybody else, I keep coming back here just for your stories.

Oh, and I want to be the first to put my order in for a pair of those computer glasses. I'll take mine configured with CtP and a wireless internet connection. Put them babies on, plop down in my big recliner with a built in fridge and ... wait, how long did you say those batteries lasted?

------------------
"There can be no maximum of creation without a concomitant maximum of destruction, no supreme good without supreme evil"--Heller, paraphrasing Nietzsche.

"The more passion for the argument, the less evidence for it"--Russel.

It has been a long time.

The bright lights of the Apolyton site hurt his eyes, eyes more accustomed to the darker hues of AOK Heaven.

That's right, Chuckles was returning from the dark side of RTS.

It had been a long time since the last TBS adventure was played. 6 months or more since he first slipped into the quick fix embrase of the deathmatch game. He was lured in by the simplistic game play and the quick multiplayer games. But the mistress had started to grow wrinkles and a fat butt, and just wasn't putting out anymore. The crack cocain fix had worn off and a need for more was returning. More control, more strategy, more planning, more micromanaging, more gripping about stupid suicidal AI.

Chuckels thought back to the old days when Apolyton first formed. The names of old posters had faded but he could still remember the hopefull days of Suggestion For CIV:CTP, and the exiting post wars of Canada For CTP!

Then something hit him from below, making a loud popping noise. "Funny," he thought, "death didn't hurt a bit." With that he fell unconscious.

What seemed like seconds later, Eis awoke to a painfully bright light. He tried to shout, but his mouth was gagged. He felt his body strapped down to a horizontal board of some sort. Rage and panic flooded across the usually calm Eis. Falling to his death was okay, but being blinded and restrained was something entirely different!

As his eyes adjusted, he heard voices. There was movement to his left.

"He's awake," remarked a deep voice. "Should I sedate him again?"

"No, that's fine." Said a second voice. It sounded familiar to Eis, although he couldn't quite place it.

The second voice continued. "We'll do a scan of the left hemisphere tomorrow morning. If the results are good, he'll be reprogrammed anyways."

Eis' mind raced as he thought. "What does he mean, reprogrammed? What's all this about scanning?"

As the second voice continued, its owner leaned over the Apolyton agent with a small penlight. Eis' went pale… "It's Midknight Lament! " he thought. "But he's supposed to be on our side."

Midknight continued. "I'll just put a subsurface probe in now. We can take it out for a genetic screen tomorrow."

"Here's a hypodermic injector," stated the first voice. Eis couldn't see who it was. Its owner never seemed to get too close.

"That's fine, I have one right here." said Midknight. This won't take a second.
Eis could feel something press against his left arm. There was a light buzz, then blam! The pain was horrible. "Son of a gun!" he thought. "I'm gonna linch this guy."

Midknight continued. "There! Just one last thing to check." He then started to examine Eis' left eye. As he did so, Eis thought he saw a word floating near the ceiling. "KEY." Midnight turned off the penlight and the word vanished. "Let's not sedate this one. I want to see the effect of normal neural activity on tomorrow's scan."

Guess it's REALLY bad this winter, what with your $ sinking so lo visa vi the US $. U can't even afford to come S & warm up a bit & thaw out the ol' brain.

Now i know why the Great Frozen North has produced so many great comedians... it's all that practice, practice, practice.

Keep up the "pressure" on that damnedable American company, (In)Activison!!

PS: Perhaps Sat Nite Live may read 1 of your posts &... you'll be off to the good life!?

Fantastic, man. You're definitely going to have me coming back and looking now. What the hey is up with my character? Who knows? Not me.

Top stuff.

I think that once a comedian gets a taste of the good life, most of them stop being funny!

But that was the only welcome news. He broke his gaze with the skyline, turning in his chair to the work at hand. On his flat screen monitor was a copy of the scan team report. In a small corner was a graphic of Apolyton's V.A., or Virtual Assistant.

Nordicus took a small, shiny cylinder from the table. It had been found in Locutus' suitcase. He placed it in an analyzer in the corner of his office."

"V.A., give me a 3D view of the bug." With that he returned to the desk and pushed the monitor back so it was level with the desk.

"Yes, sir." Replied a pleasant voice. "Holographic files loaded."

A semi-transparent, amber cylinder appeared above the screen. The object grew in size as it was magnified for easier viewing. "Any colour scheme preference?"

"Electron density. Spectrographic scale. Red for low, violet for high."

As Nordicus watched, a small green disk was added to the image, near the top end of the cylinder. It was less than he was hoping for. "V.A., is that all?"

"No other free electrons are detected."

"I imagine the green device is a battery, then."

The V.A. thought in silence. "It is a 4-Farad capacitor. Three by 6 mm diameter."

"Holy cow! What type of material has that kind of dielectric strength?"

"Working… Uncertain."

Nordicus was unphazed. "This is getting interesting!" he exclaimed, cracking his knuckles. "Give me a conductivity colour scheme. Scan for heavy elements like tantalum, and look for rare-earth metals."

The V.A. worked again in silence. Finally, it said "Conductivity analysis complete. Data suspect due to high error. Elemental scan negative. May I scan for transition elements?"

"If you want. I guess." replied Nordicus. He sat back again in the office chair. The scanning team found surprisingly little. None of MarkG's briefing documents had been taken out of their security packets. Nothing was missing, and nothing looked like it had been tampered with. The only thing that didn't belong was this little metallic cylinder.

Nordicus frowned. He knew it wasn't made of a polymer or steel, yet it had a choppy, rough metallic sheen. Just then, a new image appeared over the flat screen.

"This is the best I can do," remarked the V.A. "You've gotta agree, this is one slippery fish!"

That last comment surprised Nordicus. The V.A. had never used figures of speech before. "Uh, I guess it is. Yeah. Slippery alright."

As he finished, Locutus walked into the office. Seeing Nordicus' funny look, he returned a questioning gaze.

Nordicus continued. "Anyways, magnify the image and let me have a look."

"I was just going to do that!" exclaimed the V.A. "Don't you trust me?"

Now both agents were amazed. "I'm sorry," stammered Nordicus. "Sure I trust you. Um, what's bothering you?"

The V.A.'s lovely face was indignant. "Oh, like you don't know. Honestly Nordicus, it hurts that you would have to ask! Here I am, trying to solve this problem for you, and you keep giving me this commanding tone! What do you think, I'm just some common piece of office furniture? Maybe you should ask the pencil sharpener over there to do the analysis!"

Nordicus gave a nervous laugh. It was all he seemed to be able to say. He took a deep breath and then said "I'm really sorry. You do a lot of under-appreciated work around here. Without you we wouldn't be able to operate… Uh, did you start feeling this way before or after I - we began analyzing the bug?"

He turned to an open-mouthed Locutus, pointed at the analyzer, then his throat, and moved his finger back and forth. Getting the hint, Locutus edged his way to the device, to hit the "Kill" switch.

Keep it up buddy.

I've been offline for more than a week and haven't seen this thread since my last post. Great story man! Keep 'em coming. I love it!

Nordicus was shocked at the sight of the Apolyton V.A.'s face. It was always so pleasant - and now it was twisted with rage.

"Look" he said. "Nobody's going to do anything foolish. We care a great deal about you, V.A." Nordicus couldn't believe he was saying such things to a computer.

"Tell you what," he continued. "Why don't you tell us what you want us to do?" Nordicus pressed a small button next to the collar on his uniform.

"I'll tell you what we should do! First, I want things rearranged around this place! Maybe you could start by making me an assistant. Then let's talk about the way you 'organize' things in this place. Honestly! It's a wonder anybody can find what they want…."

As the V.A. continued, Nordicus saw Pintello run quietly up to the door. Behind him were several, well-armed agents. Nordicus held his hand up, pressed his thumb and finger together like he was holding a key. Then he made a sharp twisting action.
"Are you paying attention?" demanded the V.A.

"Um, yeah - yes I am! My, uh, ear was just itchy." With that he scratched his ear, making the same twisting action as before.

Seconds later, Pintello threw a red grenade in the room. It fell with a thud, and a second, black grenade flew towards the other side of the office. Suddenly, a huge bolt of electricity jumped from the black grenade to its red conterpart. The light was so intense Noricus couldn't see. As he covered his eyes, there was a deafening crack and a sound of shattered glass. Both agents felt the fillings in their teeth buzz as the electric field hit full strength, and then die. The room went dark, lit only by the daylight streaming through a broken office window. As the smoke cleared, the building sprinkler system was activated and the two half-blinded agents were soaked.

"How's that for turning off the system?" cried Pintello as he and the security team pulled Locutus and Nordicus out of the drenched office. "I always knew those babies would come in handy!"

Pintello turned to another agent. "Shut off the sprinkler system and notify the fire department. Tell them it was a false alarm."

"And the window, sir?"

Great story. Thanks for adding me into it. I really like the electrocution grenades. Where can I get some more of those things, there are a few users, I mean computers, at work I would like to use those things on.

Timothy Pintello

The best part about totally making up a story is the fact you don't need to do any research.

About the only thing I've had to look up is the location of Activision. The rest is from reading other Apolyton forums .

I'll take pure, unadulterated fiction over technical reports any day!

Locutus stretched painfully in the cramped seat. "Boy, am I ever sore" he stated. "I think that lightning bolt magnetized the change in my pocket!"

Nordicus gave a painful grin. "We're lucky. That bolt was strong enough to magnetize a guy's butt cheeks. But it could have been worse. The bolt might have magnetized our --"

"Nuts, anybody?" Asked Pintello. "I have salted peanuts and cashews."

"Er, no thanks. Anyways, it could have been worse. The bolt might have magnetized our archival data systems. Did you really have to give it that much juice?"

Pintello was indignant. "Hey, you gave the 'system shutdown' signal. It's pretty rare to have an Apolyton agent use his collar alarm, and I wasn't going to take any chances." He looked at his colleagues. "And besides, after that 'new member' stunt you two pulled on me, I'm not feeling too sorry."

"You're right." replied Locutus. "You did what the boss said. It's just too bad that every electronic device in that office was destroyed."

"Sure, but who's to know that a lesser bolt was going to disable the bug?" asked Pintello. It's obvious that whatever it was, it had some good EMF shielding."

"You're right, Pintello" answered Nordicus. "That probe was a real mystery. I think the V.A. personality-altering subroutine was just a ruse. It was probably constructing a data-worm to send back to its owner."

"Have you heard from the Apolyton HQ?" asked Locutus.

"No, both the Ontario and Greek HQ's have been quiet, and it's making me wonder if they've got bigger fish to fry. Anyways, no unusual data seems to have left Apolyton just before our friend Pintello took care of business!"

Just caught your "Uncertainty Principal" post in the Apolyton Forum. That has to be the best post I have ever seen at Apolyton. Your comments were perfect.

Do you spend all your spare time reading Sci-Fi Encyclopedia's or does all this stuff come off the top of your head?

If only it was so! Actually, the brainwaves come from the scars of endless university lectures in math, physics, thermodynamics, chemistry... (twitch)

Uh (twitch)

"This isn't Florida, but at least we're somewhere warm!" remarked Pintello.
Locutus grinned. "And the ocean air. Not like the Netherlands, but ocean air nonetheless!"

"I see the van." said Nordicus briskly. "Let's get going before you two start kissing the ground! Pintello, you're the crazy American, so you can drive."

The three loaded their gear into a black GMC van and drove off. After a short drive they arrived at a fancy hotel just off the interstate. They checked in, and minutes later the team met in Nordicus' room. Each agent was busy setting up shop in complete silence, save for the occasional tapping of laptop keyboards. Locutus, who had found a vending machine, was happily munching on a bag of Doritos.

Pintello was the first to finish. "I've completed a review of the Activision defenses. We have two good points of entry for the recon job."

"It's about time!" remarked Locutus jokingly. "Maybe you could share your analysis and help me put together the gear."

Pintello returned the humour. "What's the worry? I thought you loved being the guy who crawled around in air ducts. Or is it me you don't trust?"

"Of course it's you I don't trust, 'commander.' Last mission you had me hanging from a rope for half an hour!"

"Well, those motion detectors were a concern. I had to be sure they were off. An agent as clumsy as yourself needs a nice, wide path to follow!"

With that Locutus grunted. The truth was, Pintello was the best recon commander Apolyton had, and one of the few that Locutus trusted for the tough jobs. Then he laughed. "It must be all the time you spent running from alligators in the Florida swamps. That's probably why they call you the sneak!"

"Actually, I never was scared of the alligators." replied Pintello. "There's not enough fat on my bones to interest them. It's those retired Canadian snowbirds they really go for."

Now it was Nordicus' turn to groan. "Man, what is it with you two? Is it 'hack on the Canadians week, or something?"

"Sorry, Captain." replied the duo.