Hardcover
12-07-2009, 06:29 PM
Well, here we go, my first fiction post at this board, and my first attempt at real actual story telling. I don't care for using other people's characters, so I prefer to create my own. I've tried to keep this as anime like as possible, the main gist of this story came from reading the description of Madaline Rosca's Hallows Field on Amazon. I think this is different enough from Rosca's comic, although I'll admit that the Miss Piranha character is a bare faced rip off of HF's Miss Rickets (then again, Rosca owes a huge debt to J.K. Rowling).Like I said, I write long, this story clocking in at a whopping fifty pages! With this first chapter, I'm doing a lot introduction to the situationa and the characters, which I hope isn't too boring. The big chase at the end will hopefully liven things up. Keep in mind, this isn't going to be actually good, I'm not a real writer, so don't expect too much careful realistically drawn characters and drama. I put a lot of work into this, and rather then keep everything in my sorry excuse for a head, like I did in my hentai fics, I've kept note and synopsis in a note book. I hope people like this, I've got about eleven chapters of this plotted out so far. Content wise, I'd say this is PG-13 or TV-14. This future chapters might edge a bit to TV-MA, but only because I'm fond of hokey fan serice of the cheesecake variety (so we're talking shower scenes, nothing else). I don't censor myself, but I'm not fond of excessive unnesesary profanity either, it usually sounds unrealistic (Jim Cameron used to do that a lot, back when he actually made movies).The Qbert style zingers that I put in instead of the dreaded "ef" word just seemed funnier to me.lol
At any rate, I hope you all fall in love with Zippy as much as I have. I want to continue this and focus on it all the way up to the end (I do know where all this is going, trust me). Please comment if you like this story, its very disheartening when nobody does so. I've included downloadabel ZIP files of the RTF documents for your convience.
Download links:
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=K0DNJJXP
http://www.mediafire.com/?sharekey=c888615d95957ffc19747bd91027d4ddfc5606201a430 ef5
Passoword ::hardcover::
ZIPPY ZIPPERDALE:
Moderately mad
Scientist--
The First Experiment
By Hardcover
Nobody would deny that young Zippy Zipperdale was extraordinarily smart. Zippy was short for Zippendelka, and her full name was Zippendelka Asimov Zipperdale, quite the mouthful. Needless to say, she preferred the shorter, less formal, moniker of Zippy. Zippy had long been a top student and recognized as a supremely gifted girl, her brilliant mind sometimes confounding the teachers who attempted to school her. She excelled at math, history, and especially science, so it had been with no small sense of pride that her parents would send her to an exclusive school for gifted students to further her education. And so, Zippy was now sitting in the back of a rather less then pristine but serviceable cab, on her way to be enrolled in the prestigious Coddswhollop Academy. Although it meant being away from her parents, family and friends, Zippy welcomed the chance to expand her natural mental prowess. After all, being a genius was worthless if you didn’t do anything with it.
Zippy felt that she fit right in with her era; she lived in an age when progress had accelerated, and amazing advances in science were happening all the time. It was, she felt, a great time to be alive, in such an astounding vortex of remarkable innovation and invention. She had even taken a national prize in an applied science competition, which had been presented to her by Dr. Stephen Hawking himself. She had probably pushed things a little by kissing him, but she’d been so excited to meet him in person. Winning the prize had even gotten her an interview on television, and a small amount of fan mail.
That is not to say that Zippy’s good points were limited to her mental abilities; Zippy was quite a pretty young lady, possessed of a mane of fiery red hair that ran strait down to her shoulders and curled a bit at the ends. She had large expressive blue eyes that sat behind a large round pair of wire frame glasses. Although Zippy did have contact lenses, she infrequently used them, not liking the ritual of putting them in her eyes. She was slightly short at five foot five, and had a fair complexion of the skin. She was in good physical condition, having excelled in many sports as a child as well as academics, including martial arts. She was slender without looking anorexic, with a sultry curve of the hips, but very small B cup breasts that were a bit of a sore spot to her, in spite of her belief that it really shouldn’t be. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop being sensitive about her breast size, in spite of her intellectual realization that she was just being completely silly.
All in all, Zippy was an attractive package, possessed of a friendly and enthusiastic disposition that many found infectious. She made friends fairly easily and in general had a relaxed attitude about her that made her easy to deal with, along with a stubborn determination and “stick-to-itiveness” (as her mom called it, although Zippy knew there was no such word) that complimented her large IQ quite nicely. She was also your proverbial nerdy girl in a lot of ways, addicted hopelessly to late night horror and sci fi films. But she figured it could be worse: She could be an otaku like her good for nothing little brother.
She was dressed casually, in a simple pair of blue jeans and a pink and grey T-shirt with the words “E=MC2” across the front in thick black lettering.
She shuffled in the back seat of the cab. Her attempts to engage the cab driver in conversation had proven fruitless, as the strange creepy looking man had proved that he had no desire to say anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. The man was tall, maybe six one, and had a long, pallid face and deep sunken eyes that made him look more or less like Boris Karloff on valium. As such, Zippy had been basically all alone thus far in the trip. She’d occupied herself by reading, and trying to imagine what her new home for the next several years was going to be like. She’d seen the pamphlets, of course, but a pamphlet was not the same as being there.
She stared out the cab window, watching the scenery go by. The road they were on was surround by thick forests on either side, and a heavy fog had rolled in, blanketing the scenery in a dreary coat of light grey. An overcast sky added to the gloomy feeling of the morning. There was almost a sense of foreboding in the oppressive feeling of the murkiness. Edgar Allen Poe and H.P. Lovecraft would have felt right at home on this slightly sinister and shadowy stretch of road.
Zippy frowned, she was sure that Coddswhollop was NOT this far in the country. She wondered if the cab driver was trying to jack up the fare. She was about to say something when the cab made a sudden right turn up a small dirt road that sent Zippy flying to one side of the backseat. No sooner had she righted herself, and then the cab suddenly screeched to a violent halt sending Zippy forward, the seat belt biting into her hips painfully. That was going to leave an unattractive mark.
At first she thought the cab had hit or almost hit something or someone, but then the creepy cab driver turned and looked back at him with those sunken insomniac’s eyes.
“We’re here.” He said simply in that deep throaty voice and got out of the cab.
“’Here’?” Zippy said, bewildered, “Where’s ‘here’? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
Zippy unhooked her belt and scrambled out of the car. The cab driver had already taken her suitcase out of the trunk and extended the handle. Confused zippy looked around her, at first seeing nothing but more trees and fog.
But then she saw it: Right in front of the cab, a large metal bridge ran across a large body of water, a river of some kind, off into a huge building of some kind, silhouetted blurrily in the thick fog on the other side. A large sign topped with six billboard lights with fancy old English lettering next to the bridge gave the name of the place on the other side: “MADAME PETRI’S ACADEMY FOR THE GIFTED AND ECCENTRIC”.
This was definitely NOT Coddswhollop.
She turned around to tell the driver he’d made a mistake and found to her horror that he was already leaving, the red glow of his tail lights illuminating the fog with a light pink shade. Zippy shrieked and ran after the cab waving her arms, and trying to get his attention but he seemed to only drive faster.
“Wait, please!” Zippy cried, “There’s been a mistake, this is the wrong school! Please stop!”
But he kept on going as Zippy ran after him, hopelessly trying to catch up.
No longer feeling the need to act like a polite young lady, Zippy screamed, “Hey, you @$#%&!! idiot! This is the wrong @$%&$#$!!! place. @%$#$%ing stop the @%#$%#!ing car!!!!!
Zippy tore after him frantically, but soon the cab disappeared into the gloom of the fog, leaving an infuriated Zippy panting and gasping for breath, still screaming angrily into the gloom.
“This is the wrong place, moron!” She yelled hopelessly, before burying her face in her hands.
Accepting that the cab was gone and it wasn’t coming back, Zippy fished in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, flipping open the front. Her heart sank when she saw the backlit screen reading zero bars. She tried the phone anyways, and got nothing.
Despair surged in her, she’d been abandoned here. She didn’t cry, fighting down the encroaching tears. She could fix this, she could deal with it. Well, there was nothing else to do: She’d simply have to go over the bridge to that school and ask someone there to call her a cab, preferably one with a driver who knew how to read a map or a GPS. Zippy stuck her chin up, and walked back to her suitcase, pulling it with her, thankful that it came equipped with wheels. She headed for the long metal bridge.
Stepping out on the bridge, she could see that the river curved in the direction of the school on either side. As she got further and further, it seemed as through the river was actually some kind of moat, though it would have to be the biggest and widest moat she had ever seen in her life. It took her a good twenty minutes to cross the bridge to the other side. From what she could see, the water looked deep, too. She frowned: Who in the world would build a moat around a school? And why build one so big? Were they expecting a siege?
The bridge itself was a wide metal contraption, held together with bolts the size of a grown man’s fist. The structure looked old, but exceptionally well maintained; Zippy couldn’t see any rust on any of the m metal, a mean feat on a bridge this big so close to water.
As she moved down, her nostrils flared: She could sense a distinct brine scent to the vaporous mist kicked up by the water underneath, a telltale sign of salinated water. The moat was a salt water moat. Strange, Zippy had never heard of one before, why make a moat with salt water, unless they were keeping something alive in there that needed it?
When she finally got to the other side of the bridge, the large building finally came into view, and Zippy’s mouth dropped open: The structure was shaped like an old medieval castle, complete with spires and towers, but seemed to be made entirely out of riveted plate metal. A large metal wall, topped with gothic looking steel gargoyles, encircled the property, and a large black metal wrought iron gate sat in front of the bridge. Zippy could also see what appeared to be a huge windmill, metal like the rest of the structure, attached to the building, four huge red sails slowly turning in the wind. The place looked like some kind of weird cross between Castle Dracula and something Jules Verne might have written about.
Aside from the windmill, the highest structure seemed to be a spire that was a good ten stories off the ground. She could see that some parts of the building jutted out over that wall and dangled over the moat, giving the whole thing a bizarre MC Escher type quality to it.
She approached the gate, noticing a strange metal sculpture next to it: It seemed to be some kind of modern art, depicting a mechanical metal man, armored in the manner of ancient Japanese Samurai, but definitely robotic, like something out of a fifties sci fi film. The robot was definitely anthropomorphic, having a head, torso, two arms, and two legs, but instead of feet it had two large thick tires attached to axles at the base of each leg. Quit the interesting creation, actually.
Zippy looked around and saw no call boxes or bells or anything to signal the inside. She peered through the gate, but saw no one in the courtyard beyond, just a large fountain depicting a jumble of mermaids and tritons, made of metal like the rest of the place, she assumed.
She reached down and pulled on the bars, attempting to open the gate. And that was when the robot came to life.
There was a loud metal grinding sound that startled Zippy, and made her yelp in surprise, followed by the groaning sounds of motors running. The huge metal man turned on her, its hands on its hip. And then, to Zippy’s utter astonishment, the robot spoke in a deep metallic voice with a slight reverberated echo.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The robot demanded.
Startled, Zippy didn’t answer for a second, then she said, “I . . . I’m sorry. I was just looking for . . .”
“You think you can jus waltz in here whenever you want? Do you? Do you? Huh? Huh?” The robot replied, “Well, not while Gortcha, that’s me, Madame Petri’s best guard is on the job.”
Getting irritated, Zippy said, “By any chance are you the only guard?”
Gortcha stuck his chest out indignantly, “Huh? What do you mean by that?!?”
When Zippy didn’t reply, Gortcha snorted, “Oh, I see how it is? You think you’re better the Gortcha just because you can read at an adult level. Huh? Is that it? Huh? Huh? Huh?”
“No! I just needed some help! You see . . .” Zippy protested.
“You know what? I think you’re a thief. I think you’re trying to break in and steal stuff. And I, Gortcha, Madame Petri’s best guard, that’s me, caught you red handed.” Gortcha said.
Oboy, was this guy for real? Zippy’s mind reeled as the irate man of metal stepped forward, “No, I really need some help.”
“You think you can pull one on me? You think your tougher then me?” Gortcha put up his fists and began bouncing back and forth, shadow boxing in front of Zippy, “You want a piece of me? You want a piece of me? Huh? You talkin’ ta’ me? Huh? You talkin’ ta’ me? Well I’m the only one here!”
“Gortcha!” A voice said behind him.
Gortcha let out a high shrieking yelp, and jumped back in fright, covering up his head and crouching into down on the ground, letting out a small fearful moan. All his tough guy talk seeming to have evaporated the minute he actually got scared.
The voice came from a second robot who approached the gates and pushed them open, unlocking them with some sort of magnetic device that it had in its hand. The robot came forward through the gate, and zippy could see that it was definitely made to look female. She was made of highly polished chrome parts, all done in a curvy female shape except for the bottom. Instead of two legs she had a simple metal cone that ran down to a metal platform that was flanked on either side by two tires, smaller then Gortcha’s but just as thick. Unlike Gortcha, this robot was wearing clothes; a leather security guard’s uniform to be exact, along with a hat that made her resemble, more or less, a British traffic cop.
Zippy looked back and forth between the two of them, fascinated by what she was seeing. Although they looked primitive on the outside, their movements and articulation were far in advance of any robotics she’d ever seen before, and their A.I. had to extraordinary to create such life like personalities for each of them. Zippy had a strong urge to take both of them apart piece by piece and see how they were made, reverse engineer the robots and discover what made them tick. This was incredible work.
Gortcha rose, wiping his brow; a ridiculous gesture since a robot does not sweat, “Criminey, Vixen, don’t do that to me. You scared the beejeezus out of me.”
Vixen spoke with a high pitched soft voice, sounding a bit like a stereotypical teenie bopper on a sit com.
“Well what’s all the commotion about . . .” Vixen asked, and the straitened up when she saw Zippy, “Jeepers! We have a visitor! Hello there, Miss. What’s your name?”
“Hi, I’m Zippy. And I’m . . .” Zippy began.
Vixen suddenly clapped her hands together at the sound of Zippy’s name, making a loud clanging noise, “Zippy?!? Zippy Zipperdale!?! Jeepers! Welcome! We’ve been expecting you. Jeepers!”
What the heck? Thought Zippy, and she said, “Huh? No, I’ve been dropped off at the wrong place. I’m supposed to be going to Coddswhollop, but my driver took me to the wrong school and then took off. I just need a phone so I can call another cab. My cell phone doesn’t seem to work out here.”
Vixen waved her hand, “Oh no, you belong here. Jeepers! Zippy Zipperdale: Zippendelka Asimov Zipperdale. Strait A student, daughter of Jasper and Melody Zipperdale of Sunnyvale, Washington, and older sister to Zachery Zipperdale, solid C minus student. We’ve been expecting your arrival today for months. Jeepers! Please follow me, and we’ll get you settled.”
The two robots began to move towards the building, leaving Zippy to hesitate for a second before grabbing her suitcase and running after them. She reached into a side pocket and pulled out her letter of acceptance to Coddswhollop Academy, running up behind Vixen and holding it out.
“No, listen, I’m not a student here, see?” She handed the letter to the robot who took it in her metal fingers, reading it over.
She then handed it back, “Yes, so what does that have to do with it?”
Zippy looked at the letter and let out a gasp of surprise: When she had received the letter, it had clearly been a letter of acceptance to Coddswhollop. But now, it quiet unmistakably read: “Miss Zippendelka “Zippy” Asimov Zipperdale, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Madame Petri’s Academy For The Gifted And Eccentric. Please present this letter for admittance; we look forward to your attendance at our school.”
Zippy stared; it had NOT said that yesterday. What in the world was going on here? Had it been replace somehow, and if so, when had it been done? She hurried after the robots, running around the fountain which she could now tell was not actually made of metal, but highly polished marble. The fountain seemed to be very old, much older then the school itself, and depicted six mermaids and six tritons (or mermen, if you prefer) rising out of the sea with their hands thrown out in a fashion that suggested the worship of something. From between the figures, the jets of water sprayed out in elaborate and spectacular patterns. Zippy tore her attention away from the fountain and followed after the robots, trying to come up with some logical explanation for what was happening.
“You don’t understand,” Zippy explained, “I’m at the wrong school.”
“Not anymore.” Vixen assured her.
The robots opened to front door of the building and ushered Zippy into a huge room, made in much the same style as the outside of the school. Couches and chairs sat here and there, and large metal stairs went up to balcony up above on either side of the room. There were doors on all three remaining walls, slightly oval on the corners, like submarine doors. There was a large fireplace on one wall, in which a fire burned warmly.
“Look, its not like you robots aren’t cool and all,” Zippy said, “And it’s not like you haven’t been nice, at least one half of you has . . .”
“Robots! Huh, shows what you know.” Gortcha said indignantly, “The nerve of this one, calling us robots. Harumff! Stupid punk.”
“What? Am I supposed to call you ‘mechanical Americans’?” Zippy raised an eyebrow at them.
“No! We’re Werx, girl!” Gortcha snarled, “We’re called Werx!”
“’Works’? What’s the difference?” Zippy asked.
Vixen replied, “Jeepers. We’re BETTER robots.”
Oh, of course. That made a world of difference.
“Listen,” Zippy said, growing impatient, “Can you guys just show me to a phone so I can get out of here?”
“Get out of here? Jeepers!” Vixen exclaimed, “You can’t leave, you signed a contract that guarantees that you will remain a student here until you graduate or until you expire, whichever comes first.”
Zippy was incredulous over that statement, she recalled signing no such contract. She tried to keep her mind focused, there was obviously some reason why all this was happening, she just had to find it. She was about to ask some more questions of the Werks, but was distracted as another figure entering the room, this one most definitely human, a girl about the same age as Zippy.
Clasping her hands together, Vixen addressed the new girl, “Ah . . . Madoka. Just the person we need. Madoka, this is our new student, Zippy Zipperdale. Zippy, this is Madoka Matsura, one of our current residents.”
“Hi.” Zippy said.
“Hey, nice to metcha.” Madoka said loudly.
Madoka was Japanese, about the same height as Zippy, with long black hair that she kept down over her shoulders. She pretty, possessing a round cheerful face, and a nicely curved figure that she seemed to take extra care to show off. She was dressed in what was apparently the school uniform: A navy blue long sleeved top with a white cuff running over the shoulders and across the top and duplicate cuffs on the end of each wide sleeve. A navy blue skirt, which Madoka had rolled at the waist to show off her legs more, matched the top, with a white trim at the bottom. She wore long black stockings on each feet that went up to her thighs. On each foot she wore simple navy blue leather shoes. Under the top, she seemed to wear a black tank top. A blue sash, white at each end, encircled her waist and was tied in a bow up front. A small shield shaped patch with what Zippy took to be the school logo adorned the upper left part of the top. Madoka had deliberately neglected the top two buttons on her blouse. Her breasts were fairly large, and Zippy felt an unwelcome twinge of jealousy.
Zippy chided herself: For Pete’s sake, grow up, Zippy!
“Madoka, would you be a dear and show our new friend to her room, she’ll be staying in 137G, with Lizzy.” Vixen told her.
Madoka smiled and nodded, “Sure thing, Vix. Common, Zipper. I’ll give ya’ the fifty cent tour.”
“It’s Zippy.” Zippy told her.
“Zippy the Zippmeister, so be it.” Madoka chortled, “Okay, follow me.”
Madoka opened the nearby door and led Zippy down a hallway, duplicate of most of the other parts of the school. Framed portraits of people lined the walls, seeming to increase in age the further down the hall they went, probably past students or past teachers. Zippy followed, playing along until she could find someone to help her. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only one she had at the moment.
“So how’s your first day at Petri’s going so far, Zippa.” Madoka asked over her shoulder.
“Zippy.” Zippy corrected her, “And its been great, I got dropped off by cab driver who can’t read a map, almost crushed by a wimpy artificial life form with no artificial intelligence whatsoever, and now I don’t ever want to hear the word ‘Jeepers’ again as long as live. You know, the usual mish mash.”
Madoka chuckled, “Hey, I like you, you’re funny. And you’re pretty, too, you’re probably gonna land a lot of guys.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. And don’t worry; there are plenty of cute guys here who aren’t gay. Girl like you should snag a half dozen easy.”
Was this a school or a dating service? Madoka made it sound like they were about to go to singles mixer.
“Listen, Madoka,” Zippy interjected, “It’s cool that you want to make be feel welcome and all, but I’m not staying. I’m not even supposed to be here.”
“What do you mean?” Madoka looked back at her.
“There’s been some kind of mix up; I’m supposed to be enrolled at Coddswhollop Academy. As soon as I can get this all straitened up and call another cab, or even flag down a pick up truck, I’ll be on my way.”
“Coddswhollop? Why would you want to go there?”
“Are you kidding? It’s one of the most prestigious private academies in the world. It’s a great honor to be accepted there.”
“Awe, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Petri’s is better; it’s the elite of the elite. You learn things here they couldn’t even dream of teaching you at Coddwhollop. You not only learn, but you DO. You create, and revolutionize, right here at the school. If you graduate here, you can pick out your dream job as soon as you’ve got your diploma. Hell, you can get rich before you even get your sheepskin. Coddwhollop would have to get on a ladder just to kiss this school’s butt.”
Zippy didn’t reply; if half of what Madoka was saying was true, Madame Petri’s did sound like an incredible educational opportunity. Maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss this mix up. Madoka did make the school sound exciting.
Opening two large double doors at the end of the hall, Madoka said, “Welcome to Petri’s.”
The doors opened . . . onto what looked like complete chaos.
They walked out into some kind of central shaft, catwalks for each floor running around all four corners of the square shaft and crisscrossing to connect with each other. The shaft went up so high that Zippy could barely make out the ceiling up above, which seemed to be decorated with a huge crystal chandelier. Looking down, Zippy got dizzy as she saw that shaft went down so far she couldn’t see the bottom at all. She stepped away from the banister, trying to get a hold of her sense of vertigo.
She glanced at Madoka, “Holy ----, how big is this place.”
“Big.” Madoka said, simply, “What you see on the outside is just the tip of the proverbial ice berg: The school goes far down underground and it spreads out, going under about half of Spirtwood Forrest out there. I’ve never seen all of it. I bet some of the teachers haven’t either.”
“Wow.” Zippy muttered, looking over the towering shaft in amazement.
“Hey, Billy!” Madoka waved to a passing male student.
“Hey . . . Madoka.” Billy replied, arriving at her name after a brief pause as if he wasn’t sure who she was.
The male student uniform was similar to the female one: A black v neck golf shirt was worn under a navy blue jacket with white shoulders and cuffs, and navy blue pants with folded up white cuffs. A white belt was threaded around the waste, and an identical patch adorned the upper left side of the jacket.
Students seemed to be running everywhere, some carrying a number of strange contraptions. Zippy had trouble trying to take it all in at once: She saw devices she didn’t recognize, and more then a few animals she didn’t recognize either. A couple of boys came past her carrying a huge tank full of electric eels on either side. One girl ran past her with what appeared to be a chicken with three heads. What kind of school was this?
A small black haired boy walked past them. He had pale skin and a slight pinkish ring around his large wide bug like eyes. His face seemed stark and emotionless. Zippy found him a little creepy; the boy looked like a teenage Peter Lorre.
“Hi, Lorne.” Madoka waved.
“Hello . . . Madoka.” Lorne replied.
Lorne scurried off quickly without another word.
Madoka gestured for Zippy to follow her, and she quickly fell in next to her. Madoka gave a general tour of the place, which Zippy half listened to, distracted by the bizarre sights around her. Did that girl have a monkey head in that jar? And why did it seem to be still alive? Her attention was suddenly distracted by a boy shooting up from one of the lower levels, flying through the air by means of a jet pack strapped to his back. There was the low roar of the engine as he shot past them and up to one of the upper floors. In the wake of the twin jets, the updraft caused many of skirts worn by the female students fly up, resulting in panty shots a plenty. Girls giggled and blushed as they quickly held their skirts down, laughing. Madoka smoothed her skirt out as she greeted another guy, who once again had to look her over before he knew who she was.
As Madoka kept moving, Zippy followed her. Madoka pointed out various items of interest, although it seemed to Zippy that every other item she pointed out was a guy that she thought was cute. It looked like Madoka was interested in anyone who happened to come equipped with a Y chromosome. In short, Madoka was boy crazy. Though, at first glace, it looked like everyone here was one kind of crazy or another.
Another robot walked by, turning into a door and disappearing, this one seemed of a simpler design, fully anthropomorphic, with legs and feet, and it reminded Zippy a little of the metal Cylons from the new Battlestar Galactica. As soon as it was gone, another one came out of a different door and passed them going the other way. Zippy pursed her lips; this was robotic engineering she’d never seen before outside of a science fiction movie. Looking around, she spotted more of them. Most of them resembled the cylon ones, but a few were of different design.
“What’s with all the metal heads?” She asked Madoka.
Madoka smiled, “Those are the Werx: W-E-R-X. There’s tons of them, they take care of all the general work, grounds keeping, house keeping, that sort of thing. They were built right here in the school, by Madame Petri’s mother, although they’ve been improved a lot over the years. The general ones only have a limited AI, but, you’ve met Gortcha and Vixen, a lot of the more advanced Werx have full artificial personalities that you can interact with. Even though you probably don’t want to in Gortcha’s case.”
“They’re amazing. I’ve never seen engineering like that.” Zippy gushed.
“You’ll see plenty more amazing things here.” Madoka smiled.
Zippy was led to a wide platform with guardrails on all four sides, the platform accessed through a small gate in the front. Madoka got on and Zippy followed, pulling her suitcase along with her.
Once she was on, Madoka said, “Hang on.”
“Why?” Zippy asked, and suddenly became aware that her feet seemed to be held to the platform by some invisible force, “Hey, I can’t move my feet.”
“They have to be held there so you don’t fly off.” Madoka explained.
“What . . . ?” Zippy started to ask.
All at once, the platform lurched upwards at a rapid velocity like a jet taking off. Zippy screamed in shock and terror as her guts seemed to pool up in stomach. The platform rocketed up the side of the wall at well over eighty miles per hour, and then came to a screeching halt several floors above, jolting Zippy and causing her teeth to clack together painfully.
Zippy cried, “What . . . Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Zippy screamed again as the platform lurched and then rocketed sideways to the right, moving at incredible velocity around the walls of the shaft. Zippy’s hair flew out to her left, whipping in the wind caused by their sudden sideways movement. She felt like she was gonna puke any moment as the platform raced around the walls like some ungodly cross between an elevator and a roller coaster. At any second, Zippy expected to feel herself flying off the platform, but her feet stuck firm.
“Yeeee Haaaaa!!!!” Madoka cried, holding her hands over her head excitedly.
The platform lurched to a halt with another violent shake next a large set of doors, causing Zippy’s head to snap painfully. It was a wonder she didn’t have whiplash. There was a hum as the platform powered down and stopped entirely.
“We’re here.” Madoka said.
“Eeber eeber yabble.” Was all Zippy could say as her whole body trembled uncontrollably.
“Come one, Zipp-a-di doo dah, it’s this way.” Madoka tugged on her arm.
“Gahhh! What the hell was that?” Zippy cried, finding her voice again.
“Much faster and more fun then the stairs.” Madoka replied.
Pulling the frazzled Zippy along, Madoka led her along the catwalk, stopping every so often to say hello to someone. Every time there was that peculiar pause as they tried to remember who they were talking too, a fact that didn’t seem to bother Madoka at all, but had Zippy more then a little curious. As Madoka walked she pointed out this or that to Zippy, although Zippy noticed that ever other item of interest was still a guy Madoka thought was hot. Definitely a little boy crazy, Zippy thought to herself with a smile.
As if on cue, Madoka grabbed Zippy’s arm and excitedly gestured in one particular direction, “Ooo! Ooo! Look there, look there. See that guy? That Gerald Driver, everyone calls him ‘Flash’. He’s the star Gravity Ball player here.”
Zippy glanced at the tall, lean and muscular student Madoka had pointed out. He was chatting with some other students, almost strutting along as he did. He had brown hair, brushed back in some kind of wave that didn’t seem to leave a strand out of place, and lean chiseled features that looked like he’d never had a pimple. He was carrying quantum physics and advanced calculus books. He seemed brainy and intelligent, yet still like a typical jock off at the same time.
“He’s so cool!” Madoka gushed in a high squeal.
Part of Zippy wanted to role her eyes, but then again, she could see why Madoka was so taken with the guy. Cool, confident and athletic, not really Zippy’s type, but she could easy imagine why he’d be someone else’s.
And then, Zippy suddenly stopped dead.
Zippy was not given to sudden impulsive behavior all that much, but now she had suddenly frozen in place, because out of one of the doors had come the most gorgeous guy she had ever seen. It wasn’t that he was really handsome, or really athletic or well dressed or cool. It was more something indefinable about the overall package.
The guy had thick wavy light brown hair that he kept short and parted on one side. He had large deep blue eyes and slight peach color to his skin. There was a little bit of freckling over his nose and under the eyes, but very unobtrusive. His face was handsome, cute without looking like he was cut out of a magazine. He wore large round glasses similar to Zippy’s, and had no piercings that Zippy could see. He was not tall, although taller a bit then Zippy, and seemed to have lean build under his uniform. No bulging fat, but no bulging muscle either. He seemed, for all intents of purposes, to be the consummate bookworm. The kind of boy Zippy was always attracted to.
He walked out of the door, and stopped and glanced at Zippy. When he saw her staring at him, he smiled a line of strait white teeth.
Zippy’s heart fluttered in her chest, her blood surged through her veins, causing her to feel a little light headed. All manner of hormones and pheromones kicked in as a delightful giddiness flowed over Zippy at the sight of that smile. In no short order, Zippy was completely spellbound by the unknown boy.
And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into another doorway, leaving Zippy not even sure she had seen him at all. She stared for a second, before Madoka’s beckoning wave called her away, her face still flushed and her heart still pounding. She kept looking back over her shoulder at the door the Unknown Boy had entered. Zippy didn’t really believe in ‘love at first sight’, but she really couldn’t deny the way she’d felt when she’d seen him.
Get a grip, Zippy.
She tore her eyes away and moved towards where Madoka was leading her. She was taken to a pair of large doors with a sign over it that read “Girl’s Dorm G”. Madoka pushed them open and Zippy followed after her. They entered a wide hallway that went off into the distance before splitting into two wings. Despite the fact that it was the girl’s dorm, Zippy noticed a lot of male students wandering around. When she asked about it, Madoka told her that there was plenty of privacy in the rooms, so no one cared about guys in the halls. The dorm area had wood paneling and carpeted floors, framed paintings decorating the walls and cushioned benches on both sides to rest on. The whole effect was less metallic and more inviting then the rest of the school.
Five students ran past them carrying a giant boa constrictor that seemed to have a head on each end.
At any rate, I hope you all fall in love with Zippy as much as I have. I want to continue this and focus on it all the way up to the end (I do know where all this is going, trust me). Please comment if you like this story, its very disheartening when nobody does so. I've included downloadabel ZIP files of the RTF documents for your convience.
Download links:
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=K0DNJJXP
http://www.mediafire.com/?sharekey=c888615d95957ffc19747bd91027d4ddfc5606201a430 ef5
Passoword ::hardcover::
ZIPPY ZIPPERDALE:
Moderately mad
Scientist--
The First Experiment
By Hardcover
Nobody would deny that young Zippy Zipperdale was extraordinarily smart. Zippy was short for Zippendelka, and her full name was Zippendelka Asimov Zipperdale, quite the mouthful. Needless to say, she preferred the shorter, less formal, moniker of Zippy. Zippy had long been a top student and recognized as a supremely gifted girl, her brilliant mind sometimes confounding the teachers who attempted to school her. She excelled at math, history, and especially science, so it had been with no small sense of pride that her parents would send her to an exclusive school for gifted students to further her education. And so, Zippy was now sitting in the back of a rather less then pristine but serviceable cab, on her way to be enrolled in the prestigious Coddswhollop Academy. Although it meant being away from her parents, family and friends, Zippy welcomed the chance to expand her natural mental prowess. After all, being a genius was worthless if you didn’t do anything with it.
Zippy felt that she fit right in with her era; she lived in an age when progress had accelerated, and amazing advances in science were happening all the time. It was, she felt, a great time to be alive, in such an astounding vortex of remarkable innovation and invention. She had even taken a national prize in an applied science competition, which had been presented to her by Dr. Stephen Hawking himself. She had probably pushed things a little by kissing him, but she’d been so excited to meet him in person. Winning the prize had even gotten her an interview on television, and a small amount of fan mail.
That is not to say that Zippy’s good points were limited to her mental abilities; Zippy was quite a pretty young lady, possessed of a mane of fiery red hair that ran strait down to her shoulders and curled a bit at the ends. She had large expressive blue eyes that sat behind a large round pair of wire frame glasses. Although Zippy did have contact lenses, she infrequently used them, not liking the ritual of putting them in her eyes. She was slightly short at five foot five, and had a fair complexion of the skin. She was in good physical condition, having excelled in many sports as a child as well as academics, including martial arts. She was slender without looking anorexic, with a sultry curve of the hips, but very small B cup breasts that were a bit of a sore spot to her, in spite of her belief that it really shouldn’t be. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop being sensitive about her breast size, in spite of her intellectual realization that she was just being completely silly.
All in all, Zippy was an attractive package, possessed of a friendly and enthusiastic disposition that many found infectious. She made friends fairly easily and in general had a relaxed attitude about her that made her easy to deal with, along with a stubborn determination and “stick-to-itiveness” (as her mom called it, although Zippy knew there was no such word) that complimented her large IQ quite nicely. She was also your proverbial nerdy girl in a lot of ways, addicted hopelessly to late night horror and sci fi films. But she figured it could be worse: She could be an otaku like her good for nothing little brother.
She was dressed casually, in a simple pair of blue jeans and a pink and grey T-shirt with the words “E=MC2” across the front in thick black lettering.
She shuffled in the back seat of the cab. Her attempts to engage the cab driver in conversation had proven fruitless, as the strange creepy looking man had proved that he had no desire to say anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. The man was tall, maybe six one, and had a long, pallid face and deep sunken eyes that made him look more or less like Boris Karloff on valium. As such, Zippy had been basically all alone thus far in the trip. She’d occupied herself by reading, and trying to imagine what her new home for the next several years was going to be like. She’d seen the pamphlets, of course, but a pamphlet was not the same as being there.
She stared out the cab window, watching the scenery go by. The road they were on was surround by thick forests on either side, and a heavy fog had rolled in, blanketing the scenery in a dreary coat of light grey. An overcast sky added to the gloomy feeling of the morning. There was almost a sense of foreboding in the oppressive feeling of the murkiness. Edgar Allen Poe and H.P. Lovecraft would have felt right at home on this slightly sinister and shadowy stretch of road.
Zippy frowned, she was sure that Coddswhollop was NOT this far in the country. She wondered if the cab driver was trying to jack up the fare. She was about to say something when the cab made a sudden right turn up a small dirt road that sent Zippy flying to one side of the backseat. No sooner had she righted herself, and then the cab suddenly screeched to a violent halt sending Zippy forward, the seat belt biting into her hips painfully. That was going to leave an unattractive mark.
At first she thought the cab had hit or almost hit something or someone, but then the creepy cab driver turned and looked back at him with those sunken insomniac’s eyes.
“We’re here.” He said simply in that deep throaty voice and got out of the cab.
“’Here’?” Zippy said, bewildered, “Where’s ‘here’? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
Zippy unhooked her belt and scrambled out of the car. The cab driver had already taken her suitcase out of the trunk and extended the handle. Confused zippy looked around her, at first seeing nothing but more trees and fog.
But then she saw it: Right in front of the cab, a large metal bridge ran across a large body of water, a river of some kind, off into a huge building of some kind, silhouetted blurrily in the thick fog on the other side. A large sign topped with six billboard lights with fancy old English lettering next to the bridge gave the name of the place on the other side: “MADAME PETRI’S ACADEMY FOR THE GIFTED AND ECCENTRIC”.
This was definitely NOT Coddswhollop.
She turned around to tell the driver he’d made a mistake and found to her horror that he was already leaving, the red glow of his tail lights illuminating the fog with a light pink shade. Zippy shrieked and ran after the cab waving her arms, and trying to get his attention but he seemed to only drive faster.
“Wait, please!” Zippy cried, “There’s been a mistake, this is the wrong school! Please stop!”
But he kept on going as Zippy ran after him, hopelessly trying to catch up.
No longer feeling the need to act like a polite young lady, Zippy screamed, “Hey, you @$#%&!! idiot! This is the wrong @$%&$#$!!! place. @%$#$%ing stop the @%#$%#!ing car!!!!!
Zippy tore after him frantically, but soon the cab disappeared into the gloom of the fog, leaving an infuriated Zippy panting and gasping for breath, still screaming angrily into the gloom.
“This is the wrong place, moron!” She yelled hopelessly, before burying her face in her hands.
Accepting that the cab was gone and it wasn’t coming back, Zippy fished in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, flipping open the front. Her heart sank when she saw the backlit screen reading zero bars. She tried the phone anyways, and got nothing.
Despair surged in her, she’d been abandoned here. She didn’t cry, fighting down the encroaching tears. She could fix this, she could deal with it. Well, there was nothing else to do: She’d simply have to go over the bridge to that school and ask someone there to call her a cab, preferably one with a driver who knew how to read a map or a GPS. Zippy stuck her chin up, and walked back to her suitcase, pulling it with her, thankful that it came equipped with wheels. She headed for the long metal bridge.
Stepping out on the bridge, she could see that the river curved in the direction of the school on either side. As she got further and further, it seemed as through the river was actually some kind of moat, though it would have to be the biggest and widest moat she had ever seen in her life. It took her a good twenty minutes to cross the bridge to the other side. From what she could see, the water looked deep, too. She frowned: Who in the world would build a moat around a school? And why build one so big? Were they expecting a siege?
The bridge itself was a wide metal contraption, held together with bolts the size of a grown man’s fist. The structure looked old, but exceptionally well maintained; Zippy couldn’t see any rust on any of the m metal, a mean feat on a bridge this big so close to water.
As she moved down, her nostrils flared: She could sense a distinct brine scent to the vaporous mist kicked up by the water underneath, a telltale sign of salinated water. The moat was a salt water moat. Strange, Zippy had never heard of one before, why make a moat with salt water, unless they were keeping something alive in there that needed it?
When she finally got to the other side of the bridge, the large building finally came into view, and Zippy’s mouth dropped open: The structure was shaped like an old medieval castle, complete with spires and towers, but seemed to be made entirely out of riveted plate metal. A large metal wall, topped with gothic looking steel gargoyles, encircled the property, and a large black metal wrought iron gate sat in front of the bridge. Zippy could also see what appeared to be a huge windmill, metal like the rest of the structure, attached to the building, four huge red sails slowly turning in the wind. The place looked like some kind of weird cross between Castle Dracula and something Jules Verne might have written about.
Aside from the windmill, the highest structure seemed to be a spire that was a good ten stories off the ground. She could see that some parts of the building jutted out over that wall and dangled over the moat, giving the whole thing a bizarre MC Escher type quality to it.
She approached the gate, noticing a strange metal sculpture next to it: It seemed to be some kind of modern art, depicting a mechanical metal man, armored in the manner of ancient Japanese Samurai, but definitely robotic, like something out of a fifties sci fi film. The robot was definitely anthropomorphic, having a head, torso, two arms, and two legs, but instead of feet it had two large thick tires attached to axles at the base of each leg. Quit the interesting creation, actually.
Zippy looked around and saw no call boxes or bells or anything to signal the inside. She peered through the gate, but saw no one in the courtyard beyond, just a large fountain depicting a jumble of mermaids and tritons, made of metal like the rest of the place, she assumed.
She reached down and pulled on the bars, attempting to open the gate. And that was when the robot came to life.
There was a loud metal grinding sound that startled Zippy, and made her yelp in surprise, followed by the groaning sounds of motors running. The huge metal man turned on her, its hands on its hip. And then, to Zippy’s utter astonishment, the robot spoke in a deep metallic voice with a slight reverberated echo.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The robot demanded.
Startled, Zippy didn’t answer for a second, then she said, “I . . . I’m sorry. I was just looking for . . .”
“You think you can jus waltz in here whenever you want? Do you? Do you? Huh? Huh?” The robot replied, “Well, not while Gortcha, that’s me, Madame Petri’s best guard is on the job.”
Getting irritated, Zippy said, “By any chance are you the only guard?”
Gortcha stuck his chest out indignantly, “Huh? What do you mean by that?!?”
When Zippy didn’t reply, Gortcha snorted, “Oh, I see how it is? You think you’re better the Gortcha just because you can read at an adult level. Huh? Is that it? Huh? Huh? Huh?”
“No! I just needed some help! You see . . .” Zippy protested.
“You know what? I think you’re a thief. I think you’re trying to break in and steal stuff. And I, Gortcha, Madame Petri’s best guard, that’s me, caught you red handed.” Gortcha said.
Oboy, was this guy for real? Zippy’s mind reeled as the irate man of metal stepped forward, “No, I really need some help.”
“You think you can pull one on me? You think your tougher then me?” Gortcha put up his fists and began bouncing back and forth, shadow boxing in front of Zippy, “You want a piece of me? You want a piece of me? Huh? You talkin’ ta’ me? Huh? You talkin’ ta’ me? Well I’m the only one here!”
“Gortcha!” A voice said behind him.
Gortcha let out a high shrieking yelp, and jumped back in fright, covering up his head and crouching into down on the ground, letting out a small fearful moan. All his tough guy talk seeming to have evaporated the minute he actually got scared.
The voice came from a second robot who approached the gates and pushed them open, unlocking them with some sort of magnetic device that it had in its hand. The robot came forward through the gate, and zippy could see that it was definitely made to look female. She was made of highly polished chrome parts, all done in a curvy female shape except for the bottom. Instead of two legs she had a simple metal cone that ran down to a metal platform that was flanked on either side by two tires, smaller then Gortcha’s but just as thick. Unlike Gortcha, this robot was wearing clothes; a leather security guard’s uniform to be exact, along with a hat that made her resemble, more or less, a British traffic cop.
Zippy looked back and forth between the two of them, fascinated by what she was seeing. Although they looked primitive on the outside, their movements and articulation were far in advance of any robotics she’d ever seen before, and their A.I. had to extraordinary to create such life like personalities for each of them. Zippy had a strong urge to take both of them apart piece by piece and see how they were made, reverse engineer the robots and discover what made them tick. This was incredible work.
Gortcha rose, wiping his brow; a ridiculous gesture since a robot does not sweat, “Criminey, Vixen, don’t do that to me. You scared the beejeezus out of me.”
Vixen spoke with a high pitched soft voice, sounding a bit like a stereotypical teenie bopper on a sit com.
“Well what’s all the commotion about . . .” Vixen asked, and the straitened up when she saw Zippy, “Jeepers! We have a visitor! Hello there, Miss. What’s your name?”
“Hi, I’m Zippy. And I’m . . .” Zippy began.
Vixen suddenly clapped her hands together at the sound of Zippy’s name, making a loud clanging noise, “Zippy?!? Zippy Zipperdale!?! Jeepers! Welcome! We’ve been expecting you. Jeepers!”
What the heck? Thought Zippy, and she said, “Huh? No, I’ve been dropped off at the wrong place. I’m supposed to be going to Coddswhollop, but my driver took me to the wrong school and then took off. I just need a phone so I can call another cab. My cell phone doesn’t seem to work out here.”
Vixen waved her hand, “Oh no, you belong here. Jeepers! Zippy Zipperdale: Zippendelka Asimov Zipperdale. Strait A student, daughter of Jasper and Melody Zipperdale of Sunnyvale, Washington, and older sister to Zachery Zipperdale, solid C minus student. We’ve been expecting your arrival today for months. Jeepers! Please follow me, and we’ll get you settled.”
The two robots began to move towards the building, leaving Zippy to hesitate for a second before grabbing her suitcase and running after them. She reached into a side pocket and pulled out her letter of acceptance to Coddswhollop Academy, running up behind Vixen and holding it out.
“No, listen, I’m not a student here, see?” She handed the letter to the robot who took it in her metal fingers, reading it over.
She then handed it back, “Yes, so what does that have to do with it?”
Zippy looked at the letter and let out a gasp of surprise: When she had received the letter, it had clearly been a letter of acceptance to Coddswhollop. But now, it quiet unmistakably read: “Miss Zippendelka “Zippy” Asimov Zipperdale, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Madame Petri’s Academy For The Gifted And Eccentric. Please present this letter for admittance; we look forward to your attendance at our school.”
Zippy stared; it had NOT said that yesterday. What in the world was going on here? Had it been replace somehow, and if so, when had it been done? She hurried after the robots, running around the fountain which she could now tell was not actually made of metal, but highly polished marble. The fountain seemed to be very old, much older then the school itself, and depicted six mermaids and six tritons (or mermen, if you prefer) rising out of the sea with their hands thrown out in a fashion that suggested the worship of something. From between the figures, the jets of water sprayed out in elaborate and spectacular patterns. Zippy tore her attention away from the fountain and followed after the robots, trying to come up with some logical explanation for what was happening.
“You don’t understand,” Zippy explained, “I’m at the wrong school.”
“Not anymore.” Vixen assured her.
The robots opened to front door of the building and ushered Zippy into a huge room, made in much the same style as the outside of the school. Couches and chairs sat here and there, and large metal stairs went up to balcony up above on either side of the room. There were doors on all three remaining walls, slightly oval on the corners, like submarine doors. There was a large fireplace on one wall, in which a fire burned warmly.
“Look, its not like you robots aren’t cool and all,” Zippy said, “And it’s not like you haven’t been nice, at least one half of you has . . .”
“Robots! Huh, shows what you know.” Gortcha said indignantly, “The nerve of this one, calling us robots. Harumff! Stupid punk.”
“What? Am I supposed to call you ‘mechanical Americans’?” Zippy raised an eyebrow at them.
“No! We’re Werx, girl!” Gortcha snarled, “We’re called Werx!”
“’Works’? What’s the difference?” Zippy asked.
Vixen replied, “Jeepers. We’re BETTER robots.”
Oh, of course. That made a world of difference.
“Listen,” Zippy said, growing impatient, “Can you guys just show me to a phone so I can get out of here?”
“Get out of here? Jeepers!” Vixen exclaimed, “You can’t leave, you signed a contract that guarantees that you will remain a student here until you graduate or until you expire, whichever comes first.”
Zippy was incredulous over that statement, she recalled signing no such contract. She tried to keep her mind focused, there was obviously some reason why all this was happening, she just had to find it. She was about to ask some more questions of the Werks, but was distracted as another figure entering the room, this one most definitely human, a girl about the same age as Zippy.
Clasping her hands together, Vixen addressed the new girl, “Ah . . . Madoka. Just the person we need. Madoka, this is our new student, Zippy Zipperdale. Zippy, this is Madoka Matsura, one of our current residents.”
“Hi.” Zippy said.
“Hey, nice to metcha.” Madoka said loudly.
Madoka was Japanese, about the same height as Zippy, with long black hair that she kept down over her shoulders. She pretty, possessing a round cheerful face, and a nicely curved figure that she seemed to take extra care to show off. She was dressed in what was apparently the school uniform: A navy blue long sleeved top with a white cuff running over the shoulders and across the top and duplicate cuffs on the end of each wide sleeve. A navy blue skirt, which Madoka had rolled at the waist to show off her legs more, matched the top, with a white trim at the bottom. She wore long black stockings on each feet that went up to her thighs. On each foot she wore simple navy blue leather shoes. Under the top, she seemed to wear a black tank top. A blue sash, white at each end, encircled her waist and was tied in a bow up front. A small shield shaped patch with what Zippy took to be the school logo adorned the upper left part of the top. Madoka had deliberately neglected the top two buttons on her blouse. Her breasts were fairly large, and Zippy felt an unwelcome twinge of jealousy.
Zippy chided herself: For Pete’s sake, grow up, Zippy!
“Madoka, would you be a dear and show our new friend to her room, she’ll be staying in 137G, with Lizzy.” Vixen told her.
Madoka smiled and nodded, “Sure thing, Vix. Common, Zipper. I’ll give ya’ the fifty cent tour.”
“It’s Zippy.” Zippy told her.
“Zippy the Zippmeister, so be it.” Madoka chortled, “Okay, follow me.”
Madoka opened the nearby door and led Zippy down a hallway, duplicate of most of the other parts of the school. Framed portraits of people lined the walls, seeming to increase in age the further down the hall they went, probably past students or past teachers. Zippy followed, playing along until she could find someone to help her. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only one she had at the moment.
“So how’s your first day at Petri’s going so far, Zippa.” Madoka asked over her shoulder.
“Zippy.” Zippy corrected her, “And its been great, I got dropped off by cab driver who can’t read a map, almost crushed by a wimpy artificial life form with no artificial intelligence whatsoever, and now I don’t ever want to hear the word ‘Jeepers’ again as long as live. You know, the usual mish mash.”
Madoka chuckled, “Hey, I like you, you’re funny. And you’re pretty, too, you’re probably gonna land a lot of guys.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. And don’t worry; there are plenty of cute guys here who aren’t gay. Girl like you should snag a half dozen easy.”
Was this a school or a dating service? Madoka made it sound like they were about to go to singles mixer.
“Listen, Madoka,” Zippy interjected, “It’s cool that you want to make be feel welcome and all, but I’m not staying. I’m not even supposed to be here.”
“What do you mean?” Madoka looked back at her.
“There’s been some kind of mix up; I’m supposed to be enrolled at Coddswhollop Academy. As soon as I can get this all straitened up and call another cab, or even flag down a pick up truck, I’ll be on my way.”
“Coddswhollop? Why would you want to go there?”
“Are you kidding? It’s one of the most prestigious private academies in the world. It’s a great honor to be accepted there.”
“Awe, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Petri’s is better; it’s the elite of the elite. You learn things here they couldn’t even dream of teaching you at Coddwhollop. You not only learn, but you DO. You create, and revolutionize, right here at the school. If you graduate here, you can pick out your dream job as soon as you’ve got your diploma. Hell, you can get rich before you even get your sheepskin. Coddwhollop would have to get on a ladder just to kiss this school’s butt.”
Zippy didn’t reply; if half of what Madoka was saying was true, Madame Petri’s did sound like an incredible educational opportunity. Maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss this mix up. Madoka did make the school sound exciting.
Opening two large double doors at the end of the hall, Madoka said, “Welcome to Petri’s.”
The doors opened . . . onto what looked like complete chaos.
They walked out into some kind of central shaft, catwalks for each floor running around all four corners of the square shaft and crisscrossing to connect with each other. The shaft went up so high that Zippy could barely make out the ceiling up above, which seemed to be decorated with a huge crystal chandelier. Looking down, Zippy got dizzy as she saw that shaft went down so far she couldn’t see the bottom at all. She stepped away from the banister, trying to get a hold of her sense of vertigo.
She glanced at Madoka, “Holy ----, how big is this place.”
“Big.” Madoka said, simply, “What you see on the outside is just the tip of the proverbial ice berg: The school goes far down underground and it spreads out, going under about half of Spirtwood Forrest out there. I’ve never seen all of it. I bet some of the teachers haven’t either.”
“Wow.” Zippy muttered, looking over the towering shaft in amazement.
“Hey, Billy!” Madoka waved to a passing male student.
“Hey . . . Madoka.” Billy replied, arriving at her name after a brief pause as if he wasn’t sure who she was.
The male student uniform was similar to the female one: A black v neck golf shirt was worn under a navy blue jacket with white shoulders and cuffs, and navy blue pants with folded up white cuffs. A white belt was threaded around the waste, and an identical patch adorned the upper left side of the jacket.
Students seemed to be running everywhere, some carrying a number of strange contraptions. Zippy had trouble trying to take it all in at once: She saw devices she didn’t recognize, and more then a few animals she didn’t recognize either. A couple of boys came past her carrying a huge tank full of electric eels on either side. One girl ran past her with what appeared to be a chicken with three heads. What kind of school was this?
A small black haired boy walked past them. He had pale skin and a slight pinkish ring around his large wide bug like eyes. His face seemed stark and emotionless. Zippy found him a little creepy; the boy looked like a teenage Peter Lorre.
“Hi, Lorne.” Madoka waved.
“Hello . . . Madoka.” Lorne replied.
Lorne scurried off quickly without another word.
Madoka gestured for Zippy to follow her, and she quickly fell in next to her. Madoka gave a general tour of the place, which Zippy half listened to, distracted by the bizarre sights around her. Did that girl have a monkey head in that jar? And why did it seem to be still alive? Her attention was suddenly distracted by a boy shooting up from one of the lower levels, flying through the air by means of a jet pack strapped to his back. There was the low roar of the engine as he shot past them and up to one of the upper floors. In the wake of the twin jets, the updraft caused many of skirts worn by the female students fly up, resulting in panty shots a plenty. Girls giggled and blushed as they quickly held their skirts down, laughing. Madoka smoothed her skirt out as she greeted another guy, who once again had to look her over before he knew who she was.
As Madoka kept moving, Zippy followed her. Madoka pointed out various items of interest, although it seemed to Zippy that every other item she pointed out was a guy that she thought was cute. It looked like Madoka was interested in anyone who happened to come equipped with a Y chromosome. In short, Madoka was boy crazy. Though, at first glace, it looked like everyone here was one kind of crazy or another.
Another robot walked by, turning into a door and disappearing, this one seemed of a simpler design, fully anthropomorphic, with legs and feet, and it reminded Zippy a little of the metal Cylons from the new Battlestar Galactica. As soon as it was gone, another one came out of a different door and passed them going the other way. Zippy pursed her lips; this was robotic engineering she’d never seen before outside of a science fiction movie. Looking around, she spotted more of them. Most of them resembled the cylon ones, but a few were of different design.
“What’s with all the metal heads?” She asked Madoka.
Madoka smiled, “Those are the Werx: W-E-R-X. There’s tons of them, they take care of all the general work, grounds keeping, house keeping, that sort of thing. They were built right here in the school, by Madame Petri’s mother, although they’ve been improved a lot over the years. The general ones only have a limited AI, but, you’ve met Gortcha and Vixen, a lot of the more advanced Werx have full artificial personalities that you can interact with. Even though you probably don’t want to in Gortcha’s case.”
“They’re amazing. I’ve never seen engineering like that.” Zippy gushed.
“You’ll see plenty more amazing things here.” Madoka smiled.
Zippy was led to a wide platform with guardrails on all four sides, the platform accessed through a small gate in the front. Madoka got on and Zippy followed, pulling her suitcase along with her.
Once she was on, Madoka said, “Hang on.”
“Why?” Zippy asked, and suddenly became aware that her feet seemed to be held to the platform by some invisible force, “Hey, I can’t move my feet.”
“They have to be held there so you don’t fly off.” Madoka explained.
“What . . . ?” Zippy started to ask.
All at once, the platform lurched upwards at a rapid velocity like a jet taking off. Zippy screamed in shock and terror as her guts seemed to pool up in stomach. The platform rocketed up the side of the wall at well over eighty miles per hour, and then came to a screeching halt several floors above, jolting Zippy and causing her teeth to clack together painfully.
Zippy cried, “What . . . Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Zippy screamed again as the platform lurched and then rocketed sideways to the right, moving at incredible velocity around the walls of the shaft. Zippy’s hair flew out to her left, whipping in the wind caused by their sudden sideways movement. She felt like she was gonna puke any moment as the platform raced around the walls like some ungodly cross between an elevator and a roller coaster. At any second, Zippy expected to feel herself flying off the platform, but her feet stuck firm.
“Yeeee Haaaaa!!!!” Madoka cried, holding her hands over her head excitedly.
The platform lurched to a halt with another violent shake next a large set of doors, causing Zippy’s head to snap painfully. It was a wonder she didn’t have whiplash. There was a hum as the platform powered down and stopped entirely.
“We’re here.” Madoka said.
“Eeber eeber yabble.” Was all Zippy could say as her whole body trembled uncontrollably.
“Come one, Zipp-a-di doo dah, it’s this way.” Madoka tugged on her arm.
“Gahhh! What the hell was that?” Zippy cried, finding her voice again.
“Much faster and more fun then the stairs.” Madoka replied.
Pulling the frazzled Zippy along, Madoka led her along the catwalk, stopping every so often to say hello to someone. Every time there was that peculiar pause as they tried to remember who they were talking too, a fact that didn’t seem to bother Madoka at all, but had Zippy more then a little curious. As Madoka walked she pointed out this or that to Zippy, although Zippy noticed that ever other item of interest was still a guy Madoka thought was hot. Definitely a little boy crazy, Zippy thought to herself with a smile.
As if on cue, Madoka grabbed Zippy’s arm and excitedly gestured in one particular direction, “Ooo! Ooo! Look there, look there. See that guy? That Gerald Driver, everyone calls him ‘Flash’. He’s the star Gravity Ball player here.”
Zippy glanced at the tall, lean and muscular student Madoka had pointed out. He was chatting with some other students, almost strutting along as he did. He had brown hair, brushed back in some kind of wave that didn’t seem to leave a strand out of place, and lean chiseled features that looked like he’d never had a pimple. He was carrying quantum physics and advanced calculus books. He seemed brainy and intelligent, yet still like a typical jock off at the same time.
“He’s so cool!” Madoka gushed in a high squeal.
Part of Zippy wanted to role her eyes, but then again, she could see why Madoka was so taken with the guy. Cool, confident and athletic, not really Zippy’s type, but she could easy imagine why he’d be someone else’s.
And then, Zippy suddenly stopped dead.
Zippy was not given to sudden impulsive behavior all that much, but now she had suddenly frozen in place, because out of one of the doors had come the most gorgeous guy she had ever seen. It wasn’t that he was really handsome, or really athletic or well dressed or cool. It was more something indefinable about the overall package.
The guy had thick wavy light brown hair that he kept short and parted on one side. He had large deep blue eyes and slight peach color to his skin. There was a little bit of freckling over his nose and under the eyes, but very unobtrusive. His face was handsome, cute without looking like he was cut out of a magazine. He wore large round glasses similar to Zippy’s, and had no piercings that Zippy could see. He was not tall, although taller a bit then Zippy, and seemed to have lean build under his uniform. No bulging fat, but no bulging muscle either. He seemed, for all intents of purposes, to be the consummate bookworm. The kind of boy Zippy was always attracted to.
He walked out of the door, and stopped and glanced at Zippy. When he saw her staring at him, he smiled a line of strait white teeth.
Zippy’s heart fluttered in her chest, her blood surged through her veins, causing her to feel a little light headed. All manner of hormones and pheromones kicked in as a delightful giddiness flowed over Zippy at the sight of that smile. In no short order, Zippy was completely spellbound by the unknown boy.
And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into another doorway, leaving Zippy not even sure she had seen him at all. She stared for a second, before Madoka’s beckoning wave called her away, her face still flushed and her heart still pounding. She kept looking back over her shoulder at the door the Unknown Boy had entered. Zippy didn’t really believe in ‘love at first sight’, but she really couldn’t deny the way she’d felt when she’d seen him.
Get a grip, Zippy.
She tore her eyes away and moved towards where Madoka was leading her. She was taken to a pair of large doors with a sign over it that read “Girl’s Dorm G”. Madoka pushed them open and Zippy followed after her. They entered a wide hallway that went off into the distance before splitting into two wings. Despite the fact that it was the girl’s dorm, Zippy noticed a lot of male students wandering around. When she asked about it, Madoka told her that there was plenty of privacy in the rooms, so no one cared about guys in the halls. The dorm area had wood paneling and carpeted floors, framed paintings decorating the walls and cushioned benches on both sides to rest on. The whole effect was less metallic and more inviting then the rest of the school.
Five students ran past them carrying a giant boa constrictor that seemed to have a head on each end.