<meta name="LineWrap" content="true"><TITLE>SR_Bk1 0079</TITLE><A HREF="SR_Bk1-0080.txt">Next (Page 80)</A><BR>"<P><P>Fake Cerquaine sat imprisoned in a little cage made of splintered wood, held together with darting, little black lines. Kesh the Vector stood nearby, maintaining the cell with little effort. Classic of Logic was examining Fake's equipment in fascination and awe.<P><P>"Maybe if you give us the Cup you can have your things back, dear," Classic said without looking up. "But you do have some keen baubles here."<P><P>"Yeah well, don't touch any of it cuz you don't know what you're doing and it's goddamn dangerous," Fake said, grabbing at one of the pieces of wood, then cringing with the weird tickling sensation the vectors brought. <P><P>"What's this?" Classic asked, picking up a pair of yellow socks with lavender polka dots.<P><P>"Don't touch those! They're mine and only I know how they work!" Fake said. And then, turning to look up at Kesh she said "Let me out of here, you weirdo! She's gonna hurt herself! Can't you see?"<P><P>Kesh tilted his head slightly. Fake now saw that within the darkness of his face was a square shape with patterns on it. It looked like a tile. It seemed to float within the head cavity.<P><P>"My dear, this is no game," Kesh said. "And you needn't worry about Classic--she can do just about anything."<P><P>Just then, Classic began giggling.<P><P>"Christ," Fake said with a grimace.<P><P>"It's such a pretty thing!" Classic said with a spaced-out look. "It's very far and very near."<P><P>Classic then began rubbing the sock gently up and down her cheek.<P><P>"Stop that, dammit!" Fake said, grabbing at the pieces of wood again. "Stop it, that's mine!"<P><P>Suddenly, Fake flailed herself against her cage and succeeded in shattering a part of the structure. Smiling, she began to leap toward Classic, but in mid-jump she lurched to a halt, feeling Kesh's vectors flowing through her.<P><P>"Really Miss Cerquaine," Kesh said as he lowered her and restrained her on the ground, and rebuilt the cage around her. "The construct was a courtesy, as most individuals find the tactile sensation of my vectors unpleasant. I don't relish this task, young lady, and I've hardly seen any glimmer of ability on your part to break free from me. Please make it simple on both of us."<P><P>Fake felt the vectors leave her body as the cage was then fully rebuilt around her.<P><P>Bith the Silly Train, who was sitting on Fake's cinder block to keep it under control, turned around from his lookout spot and yelled "Keep it down over there, you rattlers! I think I hear something!"<P><P>Classic was now lying on her back toying with one of Fake's situation grenades. She snuggled it, smelled it, briefly licked it.<P><P>"Hey you!" Fake yelled at Kesh. "Prettyboy! Are you blind? Look at what's happening to little miss perfect over there."<P><P>Kesh the Vector turned to look at Fake and then at Classic of Logic, who was getting up with some difficulty.<P><P>"I may not have eyes, but I can see. I can see, Miss Cerquaine," Kesh said. "And I'm sure Classic has a reason for her behavior. Hey, Classic?"<P><P>Classic was still trying to get up, and then she spilled the can of conductor voice peas she was holding all over the ground. She tittered and fell down again.<P><P>"Oh crap--did you see that! She breaking everything I own!" Fake yelled, pointing.<P><P>"Classic, are you quite all right?" Kesh asked.<P><P>Classic looked up at Kesh with a sweet drunken grin and her hair mussed up all over her face.<P><P>"I feel... I feel pretty good, actually, Kesh," Classic said, and then she rolled over several times, finally winding up on her back. She blurted out another bout of laughter and reached over into Fake's pile of stuff and got a huge tin clock, currently in its cigarette-pack-sized form. She scrunched up her face and balanced the clock on her lips and nose. <P><P>Kesh strode over to Classic and knelt down, examining the pretty young girl.<BR><A HREF="SR_Bk1-0080.txt">Next (Page 80)</A>