Journal Entry #000945
Today, I’m taking jar #45763, its a medium round jar made to fit a larger specimen. I’d take a small cubed one which I know will fit the sample, but I would rather not take any chances. I’ll also have to drive the truck this time. I’d take the HoverFrame, but the fuel cell is starting to deteriorate and I’m not too inclined to make the trip into the city and scrounge for more parts. The last trip ended on a pretty sour note, and a rather bad impression on one of the local crime syndicates. Have I mentioned that I’m a terrible diplomat?
The Jar Room was pretty much that, nothing but jars. Jars of all different sizes, shapes, large or small, cubed or round, trapezoid or rectangle, and some with shapes that human culture long lost the names for. Kyle grabbed a Cylinder for the specimen and tossed in the back of his vehicle. The truck roared to life, and a trail of dust was left in his wake. Kyle turned on the window dimmers, and blasted the atmosphere controls. It was 44 degrees Celsius today, with the Solar Radiation counter peaking at around 1.3 Joules per million parts (it takes about 8 to kill you in 2 minutes). A nice cool day for a wasteland trip. In total, the journey was an hour long ordeal. Finding his way through debris, and blazing a trail to the specimen takes time and patience. It’s also a suicide note. Fortunatly, the Herd had been through the L.A. basin recently, so paths were made to make traveling easier. This would change in a week’s time.
The truck came to a crawling stop, and the engine hissed in approval. His Envo Suit would protect him from radiation and heat, while his rifle would protect him from bandits. At least, that was the idea. As he approached the lip onto the unbroken pieces of highway, he found himself with a few problems, both in the shape of people. Gene Rippers from Earth Corp? Kyle had heard about them from his colleagues. But even he didn’t know they would come out this far from their headquarters in Hope. That trip is easily 10,000 miles. As far as he knew, seeing them was a bad sign. Them seeing you was a worse one. No one likes disturbing big brother, especially this fucking corporation. But it had to be done. Thats what protocol demanded. Fortunately the two agents hadn't spotted him yet. This made things easy. He went prone, and charged his rifle. The first shot was perfect as both targets slumped to the ground. The round was an EMP dart designed to affect electronic equipment, which when shorted, amplifies and shocks the Synapses in the brain forcing someone unconscious.
Just like that, the day developed with more interest than he had intended, but protocol was not disturbed. And that was worth something. He gathered himself and obtained the specimen. He drilled into the ground with the jar, and watched it envelope the specimen and then shrink. Wrapping like skin to its exact shape. As he returned to the truck he found himself with more company. A unit of scouts from The Herd. Luckily, all their guns were pointed at him. Yep, the day had far passed that point. It was now too interesting.
“I thought The Herd moved on a few days ago. Are you cows lost? Shall I find your Shepherd?”
“Shut it Lenin. The Bull wants to see you, and your little plant.”
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