Rachael sat in the center of the small room she was given on Sherman, her
very last bloodberry candle in front of her, unlit. She meditated upon
recent events .. Yoon and Roh hadn't really meant any harm, they just tried
to be something they weren't.

It was odd, what she'd seen at AsianTown. The people all had different
interests. Some of them, like those two, were into Gothic stuff, and, well,
they would very easily fit in with her old tribe.

She huffed to herself. Well, they'd fit in with the newbies anyway.

The others at AsianTown ..

There had been people interested in anime. People growing their own food and
buying actual vegetables alongside people chowing down on Big Macs from
street vendors. She'd seen a wide variety of people here .. much greater
than she'd ever seen at one individual tribe. Something tore at her,
something from within.

She sought to meditate upon this, but first, checked to make sure that the
door was locked. *Really don't want to have to deal with Dave bleeding
everywhere again,* she thought. *Even if it did remind me of home.* She
quickly disrobed and sat before the candle in front of her. No .. she'd save
this candle for later. Another thought hit her, something she could almost
feel. Something was going to happen. And when it did, it'd be ...



FAQing Hostile
SubCultural Mutant Otaku versus the Mundanes

Episode 24, by Nick Marquardt
Created by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne



"5h3rm4n?" asked B1FF.

"Hai."

"H0w f4r 15 1t t0 M0nt3rr3y?" he asked idly while perusing his
brand new stack of dojinshi.

A nanosecond passed as the tank computed all trajectories and vectors and
consulted its internal map database and position sensors. "We are
approximately six hundred and fifty seven miles from Monterrey," the
sentient CPU reported.

B1FF scratched his head. "0k4y, h0w l0ng w1ll th4t t4k3 th3n?"

"At an average forward speed of sixty miles per hour, which is my design
specification, it will take ten point nine five hours."

B1FF nodded. "R1ght."

He was the night watch, basically. Well, seeing as how he never sleeped
since there was /always/ something more important to do, he functioned well
in that sense. However, boredom was slowly getting the best of him. For one
of the first times in his life, he was feeling bored.

Part of that was because Phreakachu had been holed up .. somewhere .. ever
since they'd busted out of AsianTown. In a way, he was glad the pokemon
wasn't around, as he didn't really like the smell of ganja smoke. In another
way, he kinda .. well .. missed the little guy's company. After all, B1FF
was the only person that could really understand the Pikaspeak.

B1FF started doing a little bit more thinking about the electric rat. The
first think Phreakachu had said upon being returned to Sherman was "Ph .. ph
.. phreakachu." That wasn't quite normal.

"Who knows, it could be a simple combination of the crack, liquor, and being
shot out of Sherman's main gun in an empty Sapporo can," Vixen had said.

"He might have evolved to a different form, that happened a lot on the
series," Dave had offered.

Either way, right now the only thing B1FF cared about was how incredibly
bored he was without someone to talk to.

"5h3rm4n?" B1FF asked.

"Hai," the tank replied.

"Wh0 d0 y0u th1nk w0uld w1n 1n 4 c4tf1ght, M41 or 5h3rm13?"

-----

Dave lay awake on his hammock in the storage area. He was having quite a
difficult time sleeping. He'd killed two people. Two brothers. Both
unjustified. They'd never done a thing to him in his life, yet he ended both
of theirs.

He was a murderer, he'd always think of himself as a murderer. He thought
about what Rachael had said before they came to AsianTown. *She has a
point,* he thought.

Would he really be tearing himself up inside if he really were a
cold-blooded killer? Probably not. He sighed to himself and settled in. It
was going to be a long night.

-----

o/~ Franky poodle had a frown and ate lots of bologna... o/~

"Okay. So let me get this straight. You guys are what?" Evan asked, holding
the rifle benignly towards the roof of the car.

"The New See--" the youngest of the suit-wearing men was interrupted and
slapped. "Ow!"

"We can't tell you, or we'd have to kill you," the slapper replied.

Evan nodded. "A spy agency, all secrecy. And why do you guys want the
otaku?"

The only agent who hadn't spoken yet finally did. "Sore wa himitsu desu,"
he said.

The Ear looked at him as though he'd just spoken Japanese. "What?"

"It's Japanese." The agent shrugged. "I picked it up, from watching them. A
character in one of the vids they watch constantly seems to say it quite a
bit."

Nodding slowly, Evan pushed, "And what does it mean?"

"That is a secret."

"..." Evan sighed. They seemed to want to get the otaku. They responded to
his rifle-based encouragement. They at least trusted that his tracking
device was indeed working. But still, no amount of 'encouragement' would get
them to talk about why they wanted the otaku.

Finally growing tired of the silence, the Ear posed another question. "What
is it with those songs you sing, anyway?"

The agent who'd done the slapping turned to Evan. "Those are timeless
American classics."

"Oh-kay .. forget I asked."

-----

Somewhere in what used to be the southwestern United States, Sherman ground
forward, his nuclear-powered engine driving the turbine that drove the gears
that powered the shaft that spun the wheel that turned the tread that pushed
the tank the Otaku built.

Nights were rather mundane and boring. The winds generally blew from the
same direction, and the visual sensors recorded only pitch blackness. The
tank had to resort to other diversions to make up for the lack of action.

The tank went through his fifth self-diagnostic of the night. Engines,
genki. Turbines, genki. Propulsion, genki. Weapons, genki. Sensors ...

Sherman electronically sighed. Reconfiguring this, focusing that .. no matter
what he did, he couldn't get the short-range external sensor array online
with what parts B1FF was able to scrounge up. And it was crucial to fix
this. He'd already had to apologize to Vixen several times for not being
able to see outside his own armor plating!

The tank noted that the long-range sensors did work. Yes, this was mostly
radar functions, but it was a start. Tiny electronic eyes and robotic
eyestalks protruded around the systems, gazing at their components. No, it
wouldn't do .. the parts weren't compatible with what was needed in his
short-range module. Besides, all cannibalizing the radar would do is cause
that system to no longer be genki.

Instead of trying to fix the system (again), Sherman just let it go. It
would have to wait 'till Monterrey. Hopefully, B1FF would be able to get the
parts there that he needed. Until then, the tank stuck to examining
long-range sensor output.

One blip stuck out. It wasn't very big, and seemed to be trying to hide,
hanging on just barely inside the range of the tank's radar. Every now and
then, it'd slip outside, like it was trying to maintain such a distance
where it couldn't be detected. After applying a little bit more power to the
radar unit, it was more firmly into the range, matching speed and direction
with the Otakuland tank.

"Mr. Hiroshima," Sherman announced on the bridge speakers. "There is an
anomaly on sensors."

B1FF looked up from his new dojinshi. "Wh4t 15 1t?"

"Gomen, I cannot tell. It's outside identification range. It is matching our
speed and heading, staying just inside radar range."

B1FF tapped his chin .. he really didn't want to wake his sister up. But
something worried him. Maybe it was nothing. "1f 1t g3t5 cl0s3r, t3ll m3, s0
1 c4n w4k3 V1x3n up."

"Hai."

-----

It was late in the morning when the tank rolled into the outskirts of
Monterrey. It looked like a town straight out of an Old West movie, complete
with a large mission fort.

The city looked like an old mission town, really. It brought to mind images
of Western movies. There was a saloon, a bank, and several other
stereotypical western-motif buildings, but the mission seemed to be the only
thing that mattered in the whole city. That, and everything was deserted and
the mission doors were shut tightly. The mission was decorated in bright
colors with a large, shiny bell above the main doors.

Sherman rumbled to a stop, and the hatch opened. Vixen stepped out and
walked over to the front of the mission and approached what appeared to be an
intercom.

"Welcome to The Bell, how may I help you?" a staticky voice came from the
speaker.

"I am Vixen Hiroshima, from Otakuland. We've come here seeking a black box,"
the fuku-clad commander spoke professionally.

A pause ensued. Finally, the voice came back. "I think we have your box
inside. Do you need anything else?"

"Yes," replied Vixen. "We need supplies and rations."

"Right! We'll do our best to help you. Please drive through." And with that,
the large mission doors began opening slowly, allowing the tank to enter.

-----

Dave had no idea what this place was, as he'd never seen anything like it.

The three Otaku, one Goth, and the pokemon filed into the main room of the
mission hall. There, they saw the first humans they'd seen since they
entered the city. Four individuals, three men and one woman, stood behind a
low counter at the rear of the room. Two of the men and the woman were
wearing black polo shirts with a small logo embroidered on them and black
slacks; the remaining man was dressed somewhat more formally, wearing a
short-sleeved button-down shirt with the same logo, black slacks, and a
headset of some sort. Further behind the four at the counter, more people
stood looking at the newcomers, this group wearing simple black t-shirts,
visors, and blue jeans.

"Welcome to The Bell," the formally dressed man replied. "We can get you
anything you need. What do you have to barter?"

Vixen gritted her teeth, then replied. "We have several minidisc players in
our transportation, and some cellular modems."

The man tapped his chin. "Good .. good, that'll work. Let me introduce
myself." He walked out from behind the counter and approached the four
humans and the pokemon. "My name is Pedro Gonzales, and I am the Manager
here at The Bell." He motioned behind the counter. "Maria, Jorge, and
Geraldo, from left to right. They are my Assistants." He smiled, creases
spreading across his Hispanic features. From what Dave could see, he was an
older man, probably approaching his forties.

The man turned around and shouted something in a language Dave couldn't
understand. All the workers here seemed to instantly snap into action,
preparing .. something from lots of small bins set into preparation surfaces
in the back room. Within a few minutes, the woman Pedro had introduced as
Maria came out with a tray full of some sort of food. The other Assistants
followed along behind her and the three of them sat down as a unit to
Pedro's right.

"Here, amigos, have some chalupas on the house. You look like you've had a
rough trip." The tray was set down, and Dave tentatively took one of the
items. He'd vaguely heard about Mexican food, but had always assumed that it
wasn't ever made anymore. Evidently, he'd been wrong. It wasn't a
disagreeable experience, he thought. A little spicy, sure, but it was
definitely a nice change from the Big Macs he'd eaten his whole life.

A heated discussion started up over the transfer of parts and supplies to
the Otaku tank. Dave tried to follow it, but was too wrapped up in his own
thoughts.

From what he was able to pick up from some of the other, quieter discussions
going on, The Bell was part of a manufacturing and distribution network that
stretched throughout most of what used to be Mexico. It was comprised of
several allied distributors, most notably one known simply as John's. Much
like the Knights of Sir Ronald, they distributed food to other tribes.

Unlike the Ronalds, though, they didn't have a central human figure that ran
the show. They looked to a group known as The Chihuahuas for guidance. Dave
had seen them as the group entered. Small dogs with light-colored hair and
huge ears. They'd been genetically modified, as they were capable of
speaking, both in English and in a language that they soon learned was
called Spanish. From what Dave gathered, they also possessed human-calibre
intelligence.

While Dave found it kind of odd for the humans to consult a group of dogs
every so often, he got used to it. After all, they had a pokemon with them.
It was The Chihuahuas who held the box the Otaku were seeking. They just had
to set about sniffing and digging, looking for where it'd been buried.

As it was, several long-lost bones had been recovered, but no mysterious
black box.

-----

The black sedan perched atop a hill a few miles outside Monterrey. "They're
in The Bell," Agent Doe reported.

Evan looked at the handheld unit that reported the location of the tracking
device. Evidently, the secret agent had meant that big building made from
adobe.

"Right, let's set up microphones and cameras, so we can monitor them. We
don't want to alarm them," said Agent Hancock. Agent Boy set about unpacking
the surveillance gear.

The former Ear scoffed at the agents in disgust. "Screw you guys, I'm going
down there." He shouldered the Happy Rifle he'd scrounged off the Ronalds
and ran down the hill, getting closer to the compound below.

Agent Boy stared. "He'll blow our cover!"

"No, he won't. Agent Doe, start the car. Boy, pack the gear back up. Let's
move to .. hmm .. that hill over there."

-----

Dave walked out around the town, amazed at how different it looked with all
this action. Men, women, and children milled about while talking, playing,
and generally doing everything in a traditional Mexican sense. Evidently,
they'd taken the sight of Sherman approaching as a bad sign, and had all
retreated to the safety of The Bell.

The otaku newbie milled around with the crowd, striking up conversations
with a variety of people. Everyone wanted to know about all he'd seen, as
he'd evidently been farther away than any of them could ever hope to be. The
stories of mutant cabdrivers, crazed lunatics, and other nice fellows sure
amazed the children.

Somehow, Rachael had joined him. Not that he minded her presence .. he
actually had been feeling more comfortable around the Goth girl recently.
Well, it was better than the way he acted towards her after that time he
walked in on her meditation.

"So, Rachael, umm .. " Dave paused and tried to think as the two walked down
the dusty street. "What've you found out?"

"About this?" she asked. "Well, the people here are anachronists. They try
to keep the traditional way of life alive, or something like that."

Dave nodded. "Ahh. Hmm."

"Whatever."

The two walked in silence again.

Dave looked over at her. Ever since the girl'd run out of her white makeup,
he'd noticed that she was more beautiful than he'd ever really noticed
before. Her stringy black hair framed her face in a way that made her look
even more kawaii .. his heart skipped a beat.

"Rachael .."

"What." She gazed over at Dave, and saw the way he was looking at her. Oh
god .. she felt her legs getting weak, that feeling in her stomach. Her aura
of apathy flickered. Another feeling came from down in the pit of her bowels
.. a feeling of impending doom.

"Rachael, I--"

The sharp staccato of an automatic rifle echoed through the town.
"DAAAAAAAAVE!" cried out a familiar voice.

"Ev-- ... Evan?" Dave said meekly. "I thought I killed him!"

"Evidently, you didn't," Rachael replied, gazing disinterestedly at the Ear.
Oh, she'd never been more thankful for that interruption in her life. If
Dave had said what she thought he was going to say, she'd never be able to
maintain the aura of apathy. But now, it flared as hot as ever.

Evan stood triumphantly in the street, and Dave blinked as he almost swore
the boy was powerposing. "You almost killed me! That, I can see to forgive."
he posed again. "However, you killed my brother! And for that, I cannot
forgive you!" He aimed his rifle at Dave. "And now, I'll kill you!
VENGEANCE!"

Rachael stopped moving. The emotion she felt .. it was overpowering. It was
more than she'd ever felt before. "NOOOO!" she screamed, lunging.

A three-round burst flew from the barrel of the rifle, spaced roughly one
hundred milliseconds apart. After about the same amount of time, all three
rounds impacted into Rachael, one after another. The first one hit her in
the shoulder and passed clean through, impacting on a building. The second
pierced into her breast, and the third ..

Dave's body went numb as he watched Rachel slump to the ground. "Rachael,
no!" he cried, bending over to check for a pulse. "No, please..." he sobbed.

Rachael stirred. The pain was .. the pain was more than she'd ever felt, but
at the same time she couldn't feel it. She felt the bullet inside her,
piercing her heart. It was only a matter of time .. she coughed, spitting
blood. She felt the other bullet, in her lung. A coldness crept over her.
*So this is what it feels like, to be dying ...* she pondered. *... how ..
disappointing.*

"No..." tears rolled down both of Dave's cheeks as he kneeled over the
broken body of the girl. He cared for her, he really did. Right now he loved
her more than any other. More than he loved Vixen that first time he saw
her.

Rachael's glassy eyes stared up at Dave's face. "Dave," she croaked. "I .. I
... " she mustered up her concentration and her willpower. "I ... love you
.. Dave ..." She slumped to the dusty ground, to weak to hold herself up
anymore.

Dave wept openly, his tears flowing steadily down his cheek. The words hit
him hard. She loved him, probably as much as he did. The only things that
mattered were him, and her. He leaned over, lifted her chin up, and kissed
her softly.

The sweet tang of blood flowed between them as Rachael returned the kiss.
For that fleeting moment, all that mattered in the world were the two
teenagers embraced in love's first kiss.

Rachael slumped away and exhaled one last time, never to inhale again. Dave
placed a finger along the underside of her jaw .. her heart had stopped.

Evan stood there speechless. He'd just killed someone that wasn't Dave.
Evidently someone Dave cared about, from the way he'd reacted. Maybe his
sister. No, that couldn't be his sister, he wouldn't kiss his sister like
that. This was an Otaku here, not a Hillbilly.

Dave stood up. He felt the feeling coursing through him. It was almost the
same feeling he'd had at the first battle he'd ever joined, but this was
different. It was more intense, more focused. His rage was aimed at one
person, and one person only. This person had stole what could have been his
happiness from him in one burst from the rifle.

Evan panicked, firing wildly at Dave as he charged. The bullets that didn't
go ricocheting off into the distance impacted with Dave's extremities, doing
damage but not seeming to take Dave off his task.

He didn't feel the pain. A bullet ripped through his trapezius. A lucky
shot. Dave picked up the pace, running with all his might towards the Ear.

He didn't know how he did it, or what he did, really, but somehow, Evan was
sent flying back about ten feet. The gun flew out of his hands, and landed
halfway between Evan and Dave.

The gun. Dave lunged for it. His hands moved by their own volition and
sought out the trigger, and aimed the weapon.

Evan spun around and quickly stood, catching Dave with the weapon he had
swiped from the Ronalds right as he was ready to fire. His entire life
flashed before his eyes in that instant.

Without further preamble, the gun barked, sending three bits of hot lead
impacting with Evan at point-blank range.

Evan spun around, swimming in shock from the close-range impact of the
bullets. He kneeled to the ground, staring straight up at Dave. "I ..." he
croaked, then collapsed face down.

The Otaku walked towards the Ear, and prodded the body's shoulders with the
gun. Cautiously, he managed to roll the body over, rewarded by the sight of
Evan's lifeless eyes staring up at him.

Dave sank to his knees, dropped the gun, and threw up.

-----

It was a gloomy memorial. Probably the kind Rachael would have wanted, Vixen
remarked mentally. Her body lay on the pile of timbers, slowly turning to
ash as the flames consumed it.

No one spoke during the entire ritual, which added to the solemnness. The
Goth girl had meant a lot to Sherman's crew .. she'd done so much with them,
been through way too many events to just be forgotten.

Vixen steeled herself. She was not crying. No, that tear was simply because
of the smoke, that was it. Silently, she pondered everything that had
happened with Rachael. All the battles she'd been part of.

Dave stared at the ground, his tears flowing freely. He made no sound as he
pondered Rachael, and how much he loved her. How much he could have loved
her, had she not given her life for him.

B1FF stared straight forward. He mourned briefly for the passing of the cute
girl. He noted how her black dresses accentuated her form so nicely, how she
always seemed to be scantily clad even when she was fully dressed. He'd
really miss her. And also the many nosebleeds she seemed to inflict on Dave.

Phreakachu blinked his beady, black eyes in the smoke. He just wondered
where Vixen hid his stash. But he also paid a tribute to Rachael, for it was
she who made sure he had enough drugs after that whole Sapporo-can thing.

The four individuals stood before the pyre until it died to glowing embers,
finally returning to Sherman late at night.

Speaking of Sherman, even he would miss Rachael. Who else would stay up late
at night watching those kinds of anime?

-----

"Ow!" Dave winced. "That hurts!"

B1FF sighed as he changed the newbie's dressings. "1 kn0w 1t hurt5, bu7 4t
l345t th15 w4y th3 w0und5 w0n't g3t 1nf3ct3d."

Dave nodded and winced as more rubbing alcohol was applied.

Evan was finally out of his hair. And now he felt like even more of a
murderer, since he'd actually shot the gun that ended the Ear's life.

Said Ear had killed Rachael though. That was a crime that almost .. ALMOST
.. justified the killing.

Rachael .. Dave sighed. She'd really meant a lot to him, and he really
hadn't realized it until the last few seconds of the girl's life. He sighed
and waited for B1FF to get done changing the bandages.

"Th3r3 y0u g0. G00d a5 n3w." B1FF beamed, helping Dave up.

"I don't feel new," Dave returned.

"Maybe you should avoid getting shot then, newbie," Vixen said, standing in
the doorway.

Dave sighed and pushed past her, heading towards his, formerly Rachael's,
quarters. "Maybe I should." He quickly and silently entered the quarters,
latching the door behind him.

"4w, 1 th1nk y0u'r3 b31ng t00 h4rd 0n h1m, 515."

Vixen frowned. "Maybe. But this is my tank, and he's under me. So .. did we
get the box?"

"Y3p!" B1FF held it up as a trophy. "0p3n3d 1t, 3v3n."

"Good. Parts?"

"G0t '3m."

Vixen nodded. "How are you coming on repairs, Sherman?"

"Repairs are moving along genkily, Commander Hiroshima."

"Good. Now .. where are we headed next?"

B1FF paused. "L. A."

Vixen shuddered. "Of all the places I didn't want to have to go ..."

"1 kn0w," B1FF said. "H0p3fully th3 b0x w1ll b3 345y t0 f1nd."

The fuku'd commander nodded. "What ever happened to that Ear's corpse
anyway?"

"Th3 0n3 D4v3 k1ll3d? 1 ju5t l3ft 1t 0ut 1n th3 d3s3rt f0r th3 vultur35."

"Mmhmm. Fitting funeral for that Disney scum."

Nodding, B1FF replied, "R1ght."

-----

Dave sat in the middle of his room. Rachael's stuff had all been moved out
of the room and put into storage. Well, the anime anyway. Her other
belongings .. well, they'd sold them.

He glanced around, and breathed the air. He could smell her in here. Her
candles. She always burned her candles in here.

Something caught his eye over in one of the corners. He got up and looked
over. It was a candle, a small black candle. He picked it up and smelled it,
greeted by the gory smell of bloodberry. Clutching the small object to his
chest, he closed his eyes, a lone tear streaming down his cheek. He opened
his ammo box filled with anime and placed the candle inside, safe under the
minidiscs. There, now he had something to remember her.

-----

"All right, we're moving out." Agent Hancock began folding tripods up and
stashing them back into the surveillance box.

"What about the kid with the tracking device?" Agent Doe asked. "Shouldn't
we wait 'till he returns?"

Agent Hancock shrugged. "Don't see why we need to. We can follow them just
fine on our own. Besides, they're moving out now."

"Right." Agent Boy picked the box up and hefted it into the trunk of the
black sedan. "Besides, that kid just seemed to be trouble. He just wanted
revenge all the time. No thoughts to his actions, just wanted to kill."

"At least he was going for the one with the FAQ," said Agent Doe. "We could
have picked it off him if he succeeded on his vengeance quest."

The other agents nodded and got into the car. The black sedan rolled off
into the sunset towards Los Angeles.



Author's Notes:

I didn't know this part was going to end up being as long as it did. I had
terrible writer's block and stuff. But, I had some really good ideas come to
me Tuesday night, and that's when most of this was written. I'm fairly proud
of the part nevertheless, and from what comments I got from prereaders, they
liked it too.

Speaking of prereaders, I'd like to give a great big thanks to you, you know
who you were. Without the comments and suggestions this part would seem even
more rushed than it is.

I had something to say here, but I can't quite remember what it was. Oh
well, it probably wasn't very important.

--Nick Marquardt
nickm@galynx.com