Water

Velox's:

 http://midnightvoltage.wordpress.com/2012/05/04/water/

Evan's:

 The small black door rolls open grudgingly, groaning about being awoken from its rust encompassed sleep.

I trip over the lip of the low doorway and crash into the cell, landing facedown in a pile of greasy work uniforms. The guard smirks at my miraculous landing and heaves the door closed.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the Wire-crawlers bite.”

 I take in my surrounding more thoroughly, there’s a puddle of water in one corner of the dingy room, a pile of abandoned orange jumpsuits, and a small black cube bolted to the wall that appears to be vibrating slightly. A sudden jolt of force throws me against the wall. Outside, I can hear the roar of the thrusters going at full power.

I pick myself off the floor for a second time and survey my choices for sleeping. Four metal corners and some dirty clothes. Brilliant. I think I’ll go for the dirty clothes, I’ll take dirt over pain any day.

I settle myself into the uniforms and curl up, quickly dropping into a deep sleep.

I’m jogging over the rooftop, splashing through puddles, dodging rusted bits of forgotten machinery and the occasional sleeping homeless person.

I slow my jog to a quick walk and peer over the edge of the building, expecting a long drop to a certain death. To my surprise, a fire escape is loosely attached to the crumbling brick building, a brief spot of good luck.

I flinch as a Quad-rotor screams by flashing searchlights and occasionally bouncing off of targets that it’s sight sensor can’t pick up.

 I can just make out the white shape of the stencil on it’s weathered side.

SHADE Corp.

I wait until the drone is gone and lower myself onto the fire escape, only putting my full weight on it when I know it can hold me. A light rain begins to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour. Soaking me to the skin and making me even more cautious when placing my footing.

A drop of water hangs on one of my eyelashes, refracting the lights of the slums around me.

 I blow it off and track it as it falls to the ground, some forty feet below. I track it until it splashes off the staring lens of the Synth-head’s targeting device.

I follow the drop as it runs off the lens and onto his finger, just in time to see him pull the trigger. My world is alight with fireworks. I’m falling through the rain, downwards, watching the rain keep pace with me.

I wake up, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat.

I mutter to myself, “It was only a dream. Only a dream….”

Caleb's: (Note: Based on a true story)

I clutched the stone pillar at the edge of the pier, letting another wave smash into me. The water was freezing. Well, okay, if that were true, it'd be ice, wouldn’t it? I guess that's January at midnight, huh? I looked back at the town behind me. We were separated by a half mile of stone pier. Considering it was about twenty degrees out and the waves were monstrous in size, that wasn't a good distance.

"You guys!?" I screamed to my nearby companions. They probably didn't hear. The wind was so strong, I could barely hear it myself.

On the other side of the pillar, I could hear my best friend Nick and my brother Tyler running toward my position. When I saw them, I wanted to laugh. I couldn't laugh because my face was too numb and I was starting to lose feeling in my legs. Their hair had been flash frozen by a mixture of waves and the wind.

"We need to make a run for it!" I yelled.

"I'll take point!" Nick yelled back. "Nick will follow me and you'll be behind him!"

We turned to face the town. We had done this before. Once a wave came along the pier, we'd run right behind it, trying to keep up with it before another one came up to pull us over the edge. This was dangerous, senseless, and stupid. We loved it. A big wave came and splashed over the pillar, freezing us all over again. The wave took off down the pier and we hurried after it, staying in the agreed upon order. I always chose the back, and yet, I was the lightest of us. Probably not the brightest decision.

As we ran for our lives, pretty much literally, I glanced over my shoulder and felt my heart sink. Another wave was screaming down the pier at us. It didn't look like it was going to lose power before hitting us either.

"Run!" I screamed. "This is not the time to slow down!" They didn't need any motivating, but I think it felt better to talk. Even if the wind drowned most of it out. Fully concentrating on the wave behind me was a poor option.

Despite the countless times we had done this, despite all our seasoned adventures tackling the massive waves on the pier at midnight, I felt the wave tackle me. I lost my footing immediately, stumbling in my boots. I clutched to the stone of the pier, nothing to really hold on to. I was really just trying to keep myself from going over. As the wave had me in its grip, I felt myself slipping.

"Damn it!" I growled, trying to hold on. "Damn it, not now!"

The wave passed and fell back into the rest of the water, harmless to me now. I looked to my right. I was inches from the edge. I got to my feet and started again, staying ahead of the waves this time. Nick and Tyler were far ahead. I wasn't sure if they trusted me to stay safe or if they had really abandoned me, but I had to find out. Another wave came from my left, soaking me again. I wasn't toppled, but I was cold. So cold it actually hurt. When I finally caught up to the others, they patted my shoulder.

"You all right? We saw you slow down and the wave caught you!" Nick explained. The wind had died down now that we were away from the pier.

"I'm fine," I assured him and my silent, but noticeably concerned brother. "Just wet."

As we walked back to Nick's car that night, covered in water from head to toe, we took one last glance back at the monster that was the lake.

"We'll have to go back next week," I laughed. "I'm not letting that lake push me around twice."

"Sounds good to me," Tyler grinned.

We had survived another journey into the volatile, frozen water. It wouldn't be our last.


Lloyd's:

The Road's Water

Kent’s team of five Adepts rode alongside a gurgling stream, as they took the beaten track toward Akkad. The track itself had naturally developed beside the stream, as a source of water was necessary for travelers and they were often reluctant to leave it. This was the case for the Adepts as well, and as the sun reached its zenith, Kent called a halt and dismounted, his Adepts following his example. They led their horses to the stream’s bank, careful to ensure that the eroded slope did not give way under them. As five of them sat to drink and refill their canteens, Kent spoke. “Ephraim, it’s your turn for the watch.”

“Of course, Brother-Lieutenant.” Ephraim saluted and returned to the roadside, keeping his eyes peeled for any who might approach. It was mostly a formality, as few would dare attack a group of Chantry Adepts and the odds of them meeting someone out in the middle of nowhere was slim, but the Chantry’s soldiers had not become as skilled and experienced as they were by taking chances.

The water was crystal clear, and while that was not an indicator of its cleanliness, this water was as clean as a stream got, simply because one of the local lords had taken it upon himself to ensure that travelers through his land wouldn’t die of water poisoning. He wouldn’t get tariff revenue if merchants died travelling through his land, after all. For this reason his soldiers (he’d managed to avoid lessening the road patrols through some martial trickery when the King had called for his lords’ troops to be marshaled) patrolled the road and would remove anything that risked contaminating the water, the most commonly cited example being dead animals. This also made it much more difficult for highwaymen to ply their trade, which was also a bonus for everyone involved.

While it was no well, the stream provided all that the Adepts found they needed for the moment. They poured the water that they’d kept in their canteens into the stream and refilled them, replacing water which had been warming in the hot sun for hours with the relatively cooler water of a running stream, borne from the cool places beneath the earth. On Kent’s instruction, one of the other Adepts went to replace Ephraim as the watchman and allowed him to renew his water supply as well.

The Adepts allowed the horses to drink to their hearts’ content, as it was even more important for horses to stay hydrated than for humans. Once the horses indicated no more interest in the stream, they set out again.


55555's: (Note: I went five minutes over the limit. Oops.)


Mr. Bissington entered, he appeared to be in a highly agitated state, though he was attempting to conceal the fact.

I knew Benjamin Bissington only by reputation, but he had quite a reputation. He'd been treading the fine line between unethical and illegal business practices for decades. He is a master in his field.

He hasn't said a word and I'm already interested in what his scheme is. Few people come to my penthouse unless they are on business, and something big.

"What can I do for you, Mr Bissington?," I said, one corner of my mouth twitching upward.

He sat down on the other side of the desk, his briefcase in his lap. For a moment I wondered how much the various pieces of information in that briefcase was worth, to him, or (though they would call it evidence) to the authorities.

"Mr. Owens, I have a proposition to make."

I gestured, signaling him to proceed.

"This is of a highly sensitive nature. Are there any recorders or secretaries within earshot?"

I shook my head. This was getting better and better.

He looked a bit uneasy, but he continued, "Before I tel you my plan, I would like to know if you have the capital to be of use to the syndicate I am assembling, Mr. Owens."

I raised an eyebrow. He named a sum.

"What?!" I knocked my chair over as I shot out of it. I was a rich man, an exceedingly rich man, but this figure would strain my accounts to the very limit. I'd have to sell my stocks (low), possibly one or two of my homes (houses).

It was his turn to smile. "To judge the cost without hearing the rewards is a woman's game, Mr. Owens. I wouldn't have expected it of you. Allow me finish."

I righted my chair but I declined to sit down. I stood with one hand on th back of the chair, looking down at this smiling crook, a medley of emotions on my face. Astonishment, anger, but also curiosity, and the beginnings of wonder.

"What I propose is essentially a monopolizing scheme. A ridiculously legal, beautifully simple, insanely far reaching, monopoly scheme."

"Have you ever though how much the world would be willing to pay, if you bought all the water on Earth?"

I may have passed out.

---

I blinked repeatedly.

"All the water on Earth?"

He nodded.

"Every drop?"

"Yes Mr. Owens. I have the necessary purchases here. The world's supplies of water are held in surprisingly few hands, Mr Owens. A few large purchases, a couple dozen mid level purchases, and another few dozen geologically significant ones, and the profits would just pour in."

"Put my name down, for the sum you named."

---

I looked out over a reservoir, the sun glinting down on the small waves, one of the many owned by my conglomerate. I reflected on our operation, its immediate success, and the projections of the profits to come.

Then one of my interns ran up to me.

"What's happened?"

"Sir, our capital seems to be evaporating."