War:NA: Sleet Happens (1/2) By Patt Elmore Wednesday Morning to afternoon, 11-17-04 The NA Compound and Lake Ontario Everything and everyone used with permission "This is scary," Katherine said, as she listened outside the closed door of Patt's makeshift office in the Jeweled Peach. "I think she's whistling." "Oh, that IS scary," Krista agreed, leaning forward so that she could hear also. "I think I recognize the tune." "With Patt whistling? I doubt its recognizable," Lisl argued. "Do you think someone should check on her . . . make sure everything's okay?" Cheyenne suggested. Katherine opened the door a crack and peaked inside. She was immediately pelted by crumpled invoices and used tissues. "Go away," the NunkWrangler ordered. "I'm busy catching us up." ************************ Patt sat at her desk, crumpling invoices and shooting them 3-point style into a nearby trash can. After the clean-up, she had pretty much taken the rest of Tuesday off. With Christy ill, or otherwise occupied with the suddenly lucky Mr. Kriel, Patt found herself feeling rather peaceful. She'd had a long hot bath, two naps and an afternoon tea in Sapo's trailer, minus Sapo, but with an incredibly enhanced Nic_K. Patt had already written and mailed the thank you note to Natalie Lambert. Now, since getting up today, She'd been notified of a covert raid (rightful revenge, of course) on the Dark Perks yesterday, with several Addicts joining in a Merc-hired operation. The only known victim appeared to be Alyce, who had ended up kidnapped. Patt made a note to check into this further. Erik was coming and going as he was known to do. Patt wasn't concerned about Le'Phantom since his memory had returned. Speaking of big boys . . . a satisfied smile spread across Patt's face as she remembered again her recent encounter with a certain blonde, hunky vampire construction worker. Patt shook her head to return her thoughts to the here and now. It was the disappearances which bothered Patt the most, even though she knew it was not uncommon for people to run away and hide as the War progressed. First, Rob had vanished. His situation seemed pretty much explainable. He'd met up with his dream woman and taken off for a fling. Acceptable, even though it had upset Christy. Then, while supposedly going to do a recon search for Monte at the Vaq Church, Caren and her family had disappeared. Patt didn't expect any foul play on the part of the Slackers, because she knew that they were more behind than she was. The most puzzling to Patt was the no-show of Jackson Hugh. The Imp had been a constant in their lives since Patt's return to the surface, and his being gone almost three days just wasn't right. The NunkWrangler made another notation on her list and moved to the next item. She was well aware that she was being blamed for the snow that had recently hit Toronto. she protested to herself. ******flash back******* Tuesday evening--Sapo's trailer. Patt was enjoying her privacy, Nic_K having gone on to his work assignment with a tip of his construction hat. While the steadily falling snow prevented Kriel's crew from working on the outside of the structure, they were keeping busy doing some interior work on the bottom floor and carrying in stacks of materials being delivered for the upper stories. Patt decided that it was the opportune time to catch up with the other factions' activities so far this war. She opened up her new laptop, connected to the Net and began downloading the daily reports that Jesse had been sending. Being a very, very cautious NunkWranger, after several major crashes, Patt knew to backup all this information, and thus she slid her War disc into the drive, prepared to download some data. As soon as she did, a gentle laughter poured from the speakers. Within minutes, a pale face appeared, brown eyes amused. "About time, Elmore," Vachon's face adressed her from the monitor. "That CD was getting rather crampy." He looked around and frowned a bit. "Not that this is much better. I hate notebooks. There's barely enough room here for my hair." "This can't be!" Patt stared at the visage. "You were wiped clean." The image laughed and tapped toward the E-Drive. "File transfer, baby. File transfer." "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "Yeah. And, you can thank me for the snow. I wanted to make sure that you could see my hair all glittered up with snowflakes, too. Also, it was fun to peck at the Perks. You should have seen them scurrying out of the woods." "So it was YOU!" Patt shouted accusingly, pointing at Vachon's image. "You ALWAYS get me in trouble." "Hey," the image shrugged. "That's what e-buddies are for." *********** end of flashback ******** Patt looked over at the closed lap top and shuddered. She hadn't told anyone that Vachon had story control again, and wasn't sure if she would. The NunkWrangler made another note Then, a thought occurred and Patt began to smile. She reached into her portable CD case, pulled out the recording of Bons singing the Llama song and slid it into the drive. The screaming inside the notebook was muted, but it was most definitely there. Speaking of Bons and Shele . . . the Scribe and Poet had been keeping a very low profile, except when Bons turned up in organza. Patt shook her head, deciding it was better to stay far away from the ex-llama and her friend, Smacky. Now, the only things that still needed to be addressed were the snow-covered, construction- delayed Shrine and the upcoming Talent Show. Right now, the whole bottom story of the incomplete structure was covered with boxes, wires, pallets, crates, large machinery and other items associated with a building site. Hopefully, the snow would cease in time for things to be cleared out, since the newly renovated grand hall/meeting room was where the Talent Show was scheduled to be held. "Patt?" The office door creaked open again, and Patt picked up the Kleenex box, ready to catapult it toward the intruder. "Someone here to see you." "Go away!" Patt ordered again. "I'm in the middle of a situation." There was a long pause. "I thought Nic_K was sleeping." "Go away," Patt warned again. The door began to push open, and Patt hefted the tissue box. She stopped, however, when she found herself facing a member of the Canadian Coast Guard. "English or Francois?" the man questioned. "English," Patt replied. "What can I do for you?" The man extended a photograph. "Do these belong to you?" Caught in digital glory were images of Caren, Paul, Jackson and Captain Jake Wren. "Err, what's the penalty if I say 'yes?'" Patt asked cautiously. "No fines, this time," the Guard answered. "We're just trying to find a home for them. They've been stuck on the Lake for fifty-seven hours now. We've tried to rescue them, but they've waved us off each time. Right now, we're looking at an ice accumulation of three feet around the vessel." "That deep? This quick?" "Highly unusual," the Coast Guard official nodded. "We suspect preternatural reasons for the inclimate conditions. Our investigation is continuing." Patt glanced toward the laptop, but kept silent. "Right now, our most urgent concern is getting these people off the ice. We've tried reason, but they appear determined to stay where they are. We were advised that your organization might be able to intervene." "Okay," Patt agreed finally. "Let's go have a talk with our resident ice capaders and find out what's going on." ********************* A short time later, the height-challenged, height-fearing Addict was being lowered by rope from one of the red helicopters used by CCG Search and Rescue. "Don't step on the deck!" Caren shouted up at Patt as the harness continued to descend. "The ship is cursed." "Not cursed," Captain Wren fluttered his hands, correcting the Cajun. "Bewitched. Bewitched sounds so much nicer." "Whatever," Cae snarled, then looked back up at Patt. "If you get on, you can't get off. Parts of you disappear." Patt tugged on the rope, signaling the crew above to stop lowering. "Change of plans, guys. Just swing me over to the side." The aircraft shifted slightly, causing Patt's stomach to stir dangerously. Finally still (well, as still as possible with sleet blowing all around you), Patt faced Caren. "What's up?" "More what's down," Caren replied. "According to Wren, Rob and Shelly have been spirited off to the bottom of the Lake by something called Peg-o'-the-Well. She's some kind of water spirit-demon that lures people to the water's edge, then pulls them down and drowns them." Patt looked past Caren to Jackson. "Hi, hon. Sorry about the pie thing and all. Can't you do something magical and get us out of this situation?" Jackson shook his head. "My majicks are negated by her majicks." "And," Wren offered, "the Imp doesn't do water. Buoyancy problems, ye know." Jackson shot the Pirate a stern look. "Silence, Merrow. I can still take your head." "Can I help out?" Paul offered. Wren leaned back, studying the Imp. "You might, but to what advantage?" "They've been at it like this for days," Caren said with exasperation. "So, what can we do to help? What do we need to do?" Patt asked. "We need diving equipment and people who know how to use it," Caren said. Patt nodded. "Understood. I'm on it." "And, Patt," Caren said seriously. "Yeah?" "A big thermos of cocoa would be nice." "You got it." ********************************* to be continued War:NA: Sleet Happens (2/3) By Patt Elmore Wednesday afternoon, 11-17-04 The NA Compound and Lake Ontario Everything and everyone used with permission The Canadian Coast Guard Search and Rescue lived up to their name. As soon as Patt explained what was happening, they organized a team of diving experts, brought in the needed equipment and prepared to launch the effort to retrieve Rob and Shelly from the icy waters of Lake Ontario. But, upon entering the water, the divers promptly disappeared. "Preternatural indeed," the Coast Guard Captain noted. Patt was standing near the captain aboard the ice-breaking ship known as a Strengthened Medium Navaids Tender. "This isn't good." "No, but to be expected, in this area," the CCG officer said calmly. "This area, between Point Petre and the Main Duck Islands is where two-thirds or more of the shipwrecks occurred on Lake Ontario during the schooner and early steam era. If any place on these waters would be haunted, this is the spot." "You're taking this whole thing about demons and stuff pretty matter- of-factly," Patt observed. The Captain shrugged. "I've been on these waters a long time myself, ma'am, and heard many a story. If there is a Nichus holding your friends below, more than likely it lurks among the ruins of one of these derelicts." "So, since we're steeped in the supernatural/fantasy realm here, there's a good chance that normal people diving on a normal rescue operation would fail such a rescue attempt, right?" "In my vast history of dealing with things of this nature, I would have to say that is correct," the officer nodded. "I have a feeling that you will require the assistance of those who would care enough for your fallen comrades to give up their lives in an attempt to save them." "Doesn't sound like anyone I know," Patt said, chewing her lip. "Don't be so sure," a deep masculine voice came from behind Patt. The NunkWrangler turned and was never so happy to see anyone in her life. "Don!" Don, multi-talented List Gardener, Die Hard and all around super nice, helpful guy, stood silhouetted against the setting sun. He was already in his drysuit, tanks strapped on, ready for action. Patt could have hugged the man. Then, she realized something. "How'd you get on the ship?" "The same way you made it snow," Don replied. "E-mail." Don, Patt knew, was an experienced diver, having been a certified SCUBA diver since 1971. His open water certification dive was in a strip mine lake in Indiana in April. As Don had said in the past, "The only reason the water wasn't frozen was because of the current." Although Don admittedly hated the cold, he was here now, volunteering for rescue work "You're in charge, Don. Just tell us what to do." **************************** Following Don's instructions, Patt quickly assembled a team of Addicts willing to offer their services, and perhaps their lives, to save their brethren. Dee, Cheyenne, Eric, Lisl, and a frantic Christy arrived, and everyone but Christy suited up. The Nunketeer couldn't swim, much less dive, but she was determined to be on board the tender to do what she could when the two victims were brought to the surface. "Explain to me again why we're diving into ice cold water looking for people we hardly know?" Lisl said, adjusting her weight belt. "Because they are our family," Dee said. "We're all Addict children to our Nunkies." "Excuse me," Cheyenne noted. "That's techinically not correct. Both of the people we're diving for are Ala-Addicts, have no affiliation to LaCroix and are just here because their real life friends brought them along for the adventure." The Addicts paused. "Do it because it gives you more action in the story-line," Don growled. He pulled the force fins on his feet and rechecked his equipment. "We're all here because we want our place in archive history." He studied the rock map one more time, then handed it back to Patt. The Addicts finished suiting up and joined Don where he stood near a hole on the ice. They confirmed their hand signals one more time, put their breathing regulators in their mouths and, one by one, jumped feet first into the freezing water. The local divers are quick to point out two things about Lake Ontario. The water is fresh and the water is (expletive deleted) cold. As one diver noted, "It's been said that there are only two water temperatures in Ontario: hard, and soft. For a few months each year, you can walk on the stuff." (http://www.leftmind.net/~adb/ontdive/ontdive.html) As his eyes adjusted to the waters surrounding him, Don looked for some landmark similar to those appearing on the rock map. He was startled, however, when the task proved relatively easy. There was a glow emanating from one of the many wrecked ships strewn along the bottom of the lake. A ship whose lined image he had just studied etched in stone. Don turned, signaling to the women that followed him. They swam on. Topside, Caren waited impatiently. "I wish I could be down there with them," the Cajun lamented, part angry-part frustrated. "I feel so useless." "Think how I feel, Mom," Paul said quietly. "The woman I love is down there, and I can't do a thing about it." The boy held out his hand, watching it disappear. "Talk about useless." "Paul, you can't blame yourself," Caren said. Then she paused. "Paul . . . look at your hand again." Paul looked. The young man's hand, though still over the ships railing, was now visible to the eye. "We're back," Caren said excitedly. "We're free. And, look, the ice is melting!" Sure enough, in the last few moments, the sleet had stopped, the air had warmed and the ice had begun to melt. "Well, let's get going." Paul and Caren hastily picked up the diving equipment that they'd had the CCG place on board several hours ago. As they donned the protective suits, they both looked at Jackson. "Aren't you coming?" Caren asked. "This is one time I can't help you, Cajun," Jackson said, shaking his head. "Much as I hate to admit it, Wren was right when he said I don't do water. I can't sink–there isn't enough weight on a belt that will pull me below the surface. Therefore I can't dive." "Hot air, ye know," Wren said confidentially, tapping Caren on the shoulder. "Do me a favor, will ya, Jackson?" Paul said. "After we're gone, see if Wren can float?" Jackson quirked an eyebrow and gave the Louisiana man an agreeable grin. "That would not be wise, as the Imp well knows," Wren intoned. "But, that is best left for another time, savvy. We're running out of arc." "Agreed," Jackson nodded. "Until the next War then." Wren bowed lavishly. "I await the opportunity." As Caren and Paul hit the water, Jackson jumped from Wren's sloop to the ice breaker moored at its side. Wren, with a final salute, grabbed hold of the Darting Dolphin's wheel and, turning leeward, sailed away. "What's happening now?" Patt said, rushing to Jackson's side. "We're wrapping this story up," the Imp said. He placed his hands on the railing, his eyes searching the water below. "I just hope we can do it in one more post, because it's still darn cold out here." ************************** WAR:NA:Sleet Happens (3/3) Time & Place: Same as part 2/3 by Patt Elmore, Christy Stillman & thanks to our List Gardner, Don, for all his diving input and expertise! Everybody used with permission, ya-da, ya-da, you know the drill. Don lead the divers through the skeletons of the wrecked vessels. Many of the wooden craft, sunk over a century ago, were in good shape, as were the newer steel ones. Even more had been ravaged by time, storms and winter ice, leaving them in shatters. The divers looked around, wishing there was more time to explore, but knowing that their mission called for speed and concentration. The ship which appeared to be glowing was resting at a depth of about thirty-five feet. It was a two-masted schooner, somewhat larger than Wren's sloop. The hull sat upright, mostly intact, with a section of the stern collapsed. The winch, pump and windlass were clearly visible. The divers maneuvered closer to the wreck, watchful for whatever had beckoned them down this far. Caren and Paul kept close watch on each other as they dove down, following the other divers. Caren saw the other five first, and motioned to Paul in their direction. The young man nodded, and kicked more vigorously to gain speed. This was Paul's first dive, and he worked hard to keep his breathing steady, though his heart thumped with worry over Shelly's safety. He reached out and touched the hilt of the sword strapped to his thigh. He drew comfort from knowing that, whatever happened, he would be ready. ********* The Nichus lurked in the shadows of the sunken hulk, angered by the humans' interference and distracted from her purpose. No longer did she look like Rob's dream woman. Though her hair was still blonde, her body was now a light green and was covered with scales. The gills on either side of her neck nictated as she anxiously awaited the divers who were now entering her realm. Her eyes glittered as the first approached the protective pocket of air where her victims were held until she hungered. The girl, she would turn into another of her kind. The man...like all men foolish enough to follow her lure, he would die as she allowed the young one to feed upon his life force. As for the others now approaching, she would deal with them. Don swam up and gingerly placed his hand on the bubble. There was no visible surface, but a glow surrounded his hand. A force field, perhaps? He looked up. Paul and Caren were on their way down, and it looked like Paul was carrying his sword. Don hoped fervently that the boy didn't slice through his own regulator hose with the thing. Behind him, the creature silently swam closer to Don, recognizing him as the leader of these puny mortals. His lackeys were on the other side of her perservation chamber. She sprang, gliding quickly through the water to land on his back, and fought to rip the mask from his face. He fought back, bending her webbed fingers back to loosen her grip. Grabbing her arm and bringing her around to face him, he wrapped his legs around her waist while Erik jabbed at her gills. Paul and Caren swam faster. The Nichus caught sight of Paul's sword and her eyes widened in fear and anger. Wriggling out of the men's grasp, she swam to face the young fry who would challenge her in her watery realm with a blade forged in the fires of Faerie. With the Nichus' attention drawn elsewhere, Don and Erik found that they were able to penetrate the field surrounding the two prisoners. Don grabbed Rob in a crosshold, then covered the man's mouth and pinched his nose with the other hand. Erik did the same with Shelly, and Dee pulled the tab that popped the CO2 cartridge in each of their bouancy compensator vests. Kicking hard, they shot toward the surface as their BCs auto-inflated. The movement caught the eye of the enraged Nichus and she darted toward the two rescuers, only to be confronted by Paul's gleaming blade. He stood his ground and did his best to move with the creature as she tried to get past him. Caren looked up. Don and Erik had broken the surface of the water, but now strange square creatures had begun attacking Paul. A sibilant voice laughed. "What's the problem, little fry? Don't like your sponge bath?" Caren and Cheyenne grabbed at the vicious, smiling little yellow things, pulling them off Paul as he defended himself and the others. Below, Dee and Lisl found themselves surrounded by...volleyballs? The little orbs were bobbing everywhere, and the Nisus turned and screeched in rage as the creatures joined their stubby little hands together and began to hum. A soft red glow surrounded the demon as she struggled against the enclosing force. Lisl could see that the thing was getting smaller...the little balls were trying to shrink the critter! Square sponges came at them from all sides, working to break their concentration, but more of the floating orbs confronted them and chased them away. Seeing her opportunity, Lisl grabbed a large glass jar that someone had conveniently tossed into the wreckage. Dee realized what she was doing, and together they managed to grab the thing, now the size of a certain fashion doll, shove her in the jar, and close the lid tight. The imprisoned Nichus struggled against the glass as they carried the jar to the surface. ************** Upon seeing that the creature had been caught, Paul shot up toward the surface. He threw his fins into the boat as the CCG assisted him from the water and ran immediately to Shelly's side, pulling her gently from Jackson Hugh's grasp and cradling the blanket-wrapped body of the woman he loved. She was still, but breathing normally, and began to come around when he called her name softly. Kissing her forehead, he pulled her close. A blanket-cocooned Rob was propped between Christy and Don, the former alternately hugging her Favored One and smacking him for not listening to her warnings about the dangers of fictional Toronto. Since he was unconscious, neither action really affected him one way or another, but it made Christy feel better. Finally, her tirade exhausted, she laid her head on his chest as the tears she had held back during the rescue finally slowly traced their way down her cheeks. By the time they arrived at the dock and the group was, oddly enough, met by the very divers who had gone into the water before them, both victims were conscious and had been found to be in good health. They were lifted from the tender and, since this IS fanfic, they were placed in the care of their friends. ***************** Patt, Jackson, and the divers sat at the Peach, weary from their adventure, yet warmed from the inside out by their hot toddies. Christy walked in with a small box, which she handed to Don. "I just wanted to say thank you for saving my friend's life," she said. "It's not much, but I saw on your website that you were looking for one. I bribed one of the fanfic fairies to retrieve it from storage back home." Don opened the box. Nestled inside was a Micromachines set. The card was pristine, and there were three figures stored beneath the plastic: the DS9 space station, a Cardassian warship, and a station runabout. "Thanks, Don," Christy said with a smile. "I owe ya one." "We ALL owe ya one, hon," Patt nodded. Over in the corner, the little Nichus beat futilely against the walls of her glass prison. ************* End