================================== IC News ===================================

Message: 14/16 Posted Author

Somber anniversary Wed Feb 05 News Report

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<Distributed by the AP>

The mood was somber today as Texas marked the anniversary of the destruction of El Paso, one of the worst disasters in the state's history. (Image of the outside of the Texas State House, with flags at half-mast) Memorials were held at the State Capital Building in Austin, with smaller services held in Dallas, Houston, Lubbock, and Midland-Odessa. The city was sundered by a massive burst of uncontrolled Stardroid energy, leaving over 800,000 dead and property damage in the billions.

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[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Bowie transmits, "Ah'm headed off-duty, unless thare's some emergency?"

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Kalinka transmits, "None at the moment, you have a good night."

Kalinka sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "I will think about you, handsome...I know where you are going."

[Radio] You send Kalinka a direct message: "...actually..."

[Radio] You send Kalinka a direct message: "...wouldja like to go with me?"

Kalinka sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "I am repairing a Repliforcer right now, but I will be along when I finish...would you like me to meet you there, or at the base?"

[Radio] You send Kalinka a direct message: "Ah'll meetcha at the teleporters in Van Horn. It's the closest waypoint."

Texas

Proud and independent minded, Texas is known as the Lone Star State, having once spent a short tenure as an independent nation before joining the United States. The second largest state besides Alaska, Texans are a fiercely proud people, who enjoy their steaks extra large and their music with country style. Much of the state is large expanses of plains and desert, though several small towns, large cities, and Mega-cities dot the landscape in between the vast stretches of emptiness. The heat is often above 100 in the summer, though the low humidity makes it not quite as noticeable.

El Paso

Submerge <D> leads to Underneath Gulf of Mexico.

Gulf <G> leads to Gulf of Mexico.

North <N> leads to Great Plains.

East <E> leads to Louisiana.

Southeast <SE> leads to Central Mexico.

Southwest <SW> leads to Mojave Desert.

West <W> leads to Southwest United States.

Up <U> leads to Sky Above Western United States.

It's early evening in west Texas, the sun hidden behind thick clouds that have rained intermittently all day. For now, the rain has paused, allowing one hoverbike with two passengers speed on their way north from Van Horn to what once was El Paso. The trip is uneventful, save for the occasional jackrabbit trying to race them. Bowie is forced to slow down as they reach the outskirts of the city as the highway buckles and pits. Even here, the destruction is obvious and unmistakable.

Kalinka has her arms securely wrapped around Bowie, her helmet on...she enjoys riding on the back of his bike, even though she would prefer if he go much faster. But that's okay.

As much as he loves racing the wind, Bowie would also prefer for himself and Kalinka to not become two more casualties of the city. There are already enough ghosts. Though weather and time have gentled the edges, the pavement and surrounding buildings are warped and cracked, like crayons left in the sun, then put in the freezer. The closer they get to the center of town, the more evident the destruction becomes. Glass was shattered out of their panes, massive cracks rise up through the facades, many buildings have toppled entirely. The heat from the blast must have been terrible.

Bowie hasn't said much along their trip, even less than he usually does. Though in many ways that would not be surprising.

Kalinka understands the solemn nature of this trip, and she's respectfully solemn in kind. She doesn't know anyone who died here, but that isn't the point. She's come with Bowie to pay her respects to those who've lost their lives.

Bowie drives them through the empty streets, occasionally having to pick their way around the fallen rubble until they finally reach what used to be a city park. Not a single tree still stands, the ground baked solid as clay tile. He idles the bike in the shadow of the remains of an office building across the way, letting the engine die. A short distance away is a cracked marble fountain, upon which is set a makeshift memorial - candles and wilted flowers.

Once Bowie's brought the bike to a stop, Kalinka hops off and removes her helmet. She doesn't say a word....just looks around at the destroyed city. In her mind, she tries to picture what it once must have been like. People going to their jobs...driving home...picking their children up from schools...this, she reminds herself, was just like any other city. This could have happened to Moscow.

The cruel irony is that Bowie once knew exactly what this city looked like, yet now he has only vague memories. A flash of remembrance here or there: places, people, names. A diner that served the best apple pies. The antique shop he used to frequent. The friend of his who transferred here to be on the SWAT team. The three Rangers stationed with the police force. Even now, it feels familiar to him, at times eerily so.

He takes off his helmet, resting it on the seat he vacates, and unlacing the flaps of the saddlebags. From them he takes fresh candles and a small bouquet of flowers. This has become a private ritual for him, a way to assuage his pain and grief. He was almost afraid to ask Kalinka to come with him. Now, he's glad to have her here with him.

Kalinka is right there beside Bowie, ready to lend a hand should he need it. Otherwise, she just wants to be here for him. It's hard enough to remember such a painful anniversary alone...

Bowie offers her a few of the votive candles he's carrying with a small, sad smile. The grief isn't quite as overwhelming as it was before (or at least when he remembered it), but it's still there. The flowers he carries with him over to the fountain, carefully emptying out the previous wilted bouquet from its slim vase.

Kalinka takes the votive candles. "I do have a lighter," she mentions softly as they walk over to the fountain. She places the candles a safe distance from the flowers, and she crouches to light them. As she lights them, she thinks some more about the life that's been so callously removed from this city.

Bowie clears away the candlestubs from his previous vigils here, tucking them away in a pocket. The city is a ruin, but simply leaving them here doesn't sit right with him. He watches as Kalinka lights the fresh candles, a hint of sandalwood and sage rising with the smoke. Then, his gaze turns to the city around them, his mind wandering.

Kalinka ends up staring directly into the candle's flame, somewhat mesmerized by it, and by the absolute silence of the ghostly city surrounding them...

After some moments, the silence is broken by a sudden, sharp gasp. Kalinka tumbles backwards, staring at the candles in pale-faced, wide-eyed shock, as she gets to her feet in a stumbling way.

Bowie snaps out of his thoughts as he hears Kalinka gasp and fall. He moves to help her to her feet, sorrow overwashed with sudden surprise. "Are ya all right?"

Kalinka is trembling a little bit. "Y...yes," she says. "I am sorry...I...do not know what that was," she admits.

Bowie raises his eyebrows slightly. "Didja see somethang?" he asks.

Kalinka nods, looking frightened. "It was probably my imagination," she says, not looking particularly convinced that it was. "I saw a face in the flame..." She looks away from the memorial, down the darkening street.

Bowie nods slowly, seemingly inclined to believe what she saw. "El Paso has ghosts," he says softly. "Never seen 'em, but Ah thank thay're thare."

"I feel like...we are surrounded by them...they know why we have come." Kalinka calms somewhat, though she's still unsettled by the knowledge. "I wish you could sense them. It is...kind of a scary feeling, but they are not hostile."

Bowie says, half in question and half in statement, "Then thay know thay haven't been fergotten."

"I think so, yes," Kalinka answers, reaching over to grasp Bowie's hand. "Daddy told me once that there are no such things as ghosts and spirits, but...he does not believe anything that cannot be proven by science."

Bowie takes her hand in his, squeezing it gently. "But science hasn't proven spirits don't exist, either." His gaze rests on her for a moment, then returns to the gray and dusty brown city. "Personally, Ah thank errythang has a spirit. We might not be able t'prove it or unnerstand it, but that doesn't mean it's not thare."

Kalinka says, "I think as you do about that. As long as we remember these people, maybe...that will give energy to their spirit, keep them 'alive' somehow, at least in memory."

Bowie nods slowly. "So long as people are remembered, thay still live on. That's true immortality."

Kalinka says, "Do you ever...pray? Or do you ever ask people to pray for someone, for you?"

"Pray?" Bowie echoes. He considers her question for a moment, his gaze once again resting on her. "Dunno if Ah'd call it prayin, but Ah do ask fer guidance sometimes frum whutever spirits might be listenin."

Kalinka grins a little bit. "That is praying, Bowie. When you talk to spirits or to God, then it is praying."

Bowie gives her a small, lopsided smile. "Guess Ah do pray, then. Ah always thought a prayer as somethang formal, like whut people say before meals or in church."

Kalinka says, "Well, it -can- be formal, but it does not have to be. To be honest, I never pray. I guess that Daddy has rubbed off on me...I have never seen the use in praying every day. But...sometimes, I do go to my Grandma's church, and I light a candle...I ask the nuns to pray for my mother."

Bowie nods slowly. "Ah've been to Jackal's grave a few times. An here. Ah've prayed then." He turns away, his eyes misting over. "Ah'd like them t'rest in peace, an be remembered. That's all."

Kalinka rubs Bowie's back gently. "As long as you do remember them, they will live on in your heart, like you have said...I am sorry, handsome...I did not mean to make you sad..."

Bowie is tense, but not as badly as she's seen before. He musters another almost-smile. "It's all right. It still hurts, sunshine, but Ah thank Ah'm learnin how to live with it." He reaches for her hand again. "Ah'm glad yer here."

Kalinka squeezes Bowie's hand. "I will be here always," she tells him softly. "Now, and always, for you."