Free Podcast Novel

 

 Standard Podcast [15:26m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

What the nationalist perverts didn’t know, and what would probably lead to their downfall, was that the Kid was privy to being shocked.  Damn it, that was Aloha’s word.  Anyway, Aloha had shocked the Kid enough times for him to develop a resistance to it.  Like, spsshh, it still hurt, of course, but it hadn’t knocked him out.  One of the pervs had taken over the speech.  That gave the Kid some time to work on the ropes.

Like, the Kid was privy to being tied up, too.  Pretty much, after sharing an apartment with Aloha, the Kid was privy to any kind of attack.  More often than not, when he came home Aloha would attack him.  It was funny at best and annoying at worst; Aloha had never hurt him.  But, Aloha had taught the Kid to be ready for anything.  One night, the Kid had opened the apartment door and been kicked in the face by the Big Boot.  The apartment had spun around him as Aloha had tied him to the sofa and fired up a circular saw.  The Kid had escaped with little problem, working his way out of the ropes out of necessity, so he thought he was ready.

 

 Standard Podcast [13:24m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

When Apocalypse Dowell was hungry, it made him crazy.  It happened a lot, especially on airplanes and at weddings.  He wondered how people who were poor and had little to eat managed to remain sane.  A headache was starting to grow in the back of his head; being around Aloha was making it worse.

James returned to the futon.  “There’s a robot at the door.  Says it wants Mick Aloha.”

Aloha shook his head.  “I’m privy to robots knocking at my door, dude.  As soon as I answer it, that thing will attack me.  I’m privy to robot attacks, too, so it won’t be a problem, but I’m kind of tired, it’s getting late, and I wouldn’t mind getting me some sleep.  Is there anything to eat around here?”

“Yeah, we might have some crackers, but we’ll have to share.  I’m starving.”

“You can have the crackers, Dowell.  That’s hippy food.”

The doorbell rang again.

Dowell walked around the junkpile and to the door, where the viewscreen showed a messenger robot hovering on the other side of the door.  Dowell opened the door.

The messenger robot hovered in the doorway.  Dowell motioned for it to follow him.

When Aloha saw the robot behind Dowell, he jumped to his feet and took a karate pose.  “It all makes sense now, Dowell.  You’re the one behind all of this.  Yes, this makes total sense.  The hero—that’s me—living with the villain—that’s you—in the same apartment.”

 

 Standard Podcast [16:47m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

On a dark street in Kyoto, Aloha checked under the van. There were five dead cyborgs; that had to be a new record. There were no dead ninjas, though. That was good. He was still hoping to make it with at least one of them, if not both, and killing them would hurt his odds.

“Where’d you go, ladies?”

A voice came from the distance. “Ne, you tried to kill us.” 

Aloha laughed. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead. That’s how I do things. I knew the two of you would be…wait, is the other one okay?”  

“Okay desu!”  

“Glad to hear that, Ninja K. I knew you’d both be fine, since you’re both ninjas. I knew you’d jump out of the way.”  

“Ne, you almost killed us.”  

“Almost, but not quite. Anyway, how can you say I almost killed you? Almost for most people is like not even close for ninjas. Now, come on out and check out the signal in the sky.”  

There were swooshing sounds, and then Aloha could see the girls approaching him on the street. They sure were ninjas.  

Aloha pointed at the beam of light and the shape in the clouds.  

“Ne, what’s that shape? A worm?”  

“No, madam, it’s not a worm. It’s a snake. It’s a king cobra.”

 

 Standard Podcast [14:32m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

This was easily the best run of the Kid’s life.  Like, no one would believe how fast he was running.  He was running from the cyborg, which made him run faster than usual.  Maybe that was the trick.  Maybe every time he ran, he should try to get a cyborg to chase him.  Then, he’d be in great shape.  Like, he totally couldn’t wait to tell Tony and Rick about his run.  They’d be stoked and amped to hear about it.  They might even throw him a party.

The Kid thought about just running to the airport.  He’d had enough of Japan and fighting robots.  He knew the planes were no longer flying, though, and he knew he’d have to identify himself at the airport.  Folks weren’t taking too kindly to foreigners around here, so the Kid would have to bide his time.  He’d have to let himself stew.  Wait, that was Aloha’s word.  When you started picking up vocabulary from Aloha, then you knew you were in trouble.

 

 Standard Podcast [14:38m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

WARNING!  This episode contains innuendo and a few words that are not work/kid-safe.

Apologies to Lord Kaosu.

Apocalypse Dowell was sick of Japanese TV.  It was all the same.  They ran variety shows where pseudo-celebrities talked about boring crap.  Almost every show had some mention of food.  It was so boring, Dowell had found himself just staring at the wall instead of watching.  In a time of robot invasions, they were still running the same TV shows. Maybe they thought a change in programming would bring on panic.

James and the Kid sat beside him on the futon.  He was sick of them, too.  The Kid just talked about Tony, Rick, surfing, and his Visa bill.  James talked about his Camaro and chicks.  Dowell was starting to understand the meaning of cabin fever.  He thought it might be best to just go out and get killed; at least it would give him some relief.

The apartment door opened.  Eri, the nerd, and the taxi driver stepped inside.  The taxi driver had a deep gash on his right arm; Dowell thought it needed stitches, but then again, he could never tell when cuts needed stitches, so maybe it didn’t.

Eri had a small cut on her face.

The nerd had two black eyes.

They came in, pushed aside some junk, and sat on the floor.

Dowell turned off the TV.  “Well, how’d it go?”

The taxi driver held out his right arm.  “Cut.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

The taxi driver nodded.  “Maybe finished.  Early in day, saw many cyborg.  Last few hours, no cyborg.  Maybe all are dead.”

The nerd nodded, although Dowell doubted the nerd had understood any of the taxi driver’s English.

James slapped the nerd on the shoulder.  “What happened to your eyes, man?  You look like a raccoon.”

 

 Standard Podcast [16:42m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

Mick Aloha had been a messiah for only a week, but already he felt he was an expert at it.  All you had to do was say things, and everyone interpreted them and thought they were really important.  Already his followers, the former kappa followers, were writing a Gospel of Mick Aloha.  Some of the zingers found in it so far were Do as you do and I can’t promise that it will get better, but it will get better.  They were writing it both in the original English and in Japanese.  Aloha hoped his brilliance would come through in the translation.

All hell had broken loose since Aloha had become a messiah; that was when messiahs were most useful.  It had started with robots that looked like ghosts.  Those were easy enough to deal with:  just kick their heads off.  It had taken less than a day to clear the country of those robots, at least that was what his followers had told him the news had reported.  The same thing had happened all over the world.

The next wave, though, was tougher.  They were cyborgs.  Aloha, maybe more than any other human, was privy to cyborgs.  He’d seen that Jean-Claude Van Damme movie at least eight times, maybe more, and in the seventh grade, instead of doing his boring school work, he’d drawn cyborgs.  He had no art skills—maybe the only area in which he was lacking—but the drawings had been accurate.  He’d spent hours going over the logistics of having human and mechanical parts mixed together.  Messiahs came along at the right time with the right knowledge, and Aloha knew this was his time.

The cyborgs looked like someone Aloha had once met, but he was still trying to remember who that was.  They all looked exactly the same.  They all fought exactly the same, too; like maniacs.

 

 Standard Podcast [14:59m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

The Kid was totally stoked.  He and James had taken out at least a dozen robots, if not more.  The situation was more serious than the Kid had guessed, though; on the streets, as James had pushed the Camaro through the early morning traffic, they’d spotted several corpses.  The Kid had never seen a corpse before, so it kind of freaked him out, but when the Kid did something for the first time, he liked to pretty much master it, so now he considered himself a master of seeing corpses.  Nothing could gross him out now.

Dowell and the other guy were approaching.  The Kid thought he probably looked pretty tough, leaning against the Camaro with his tattoos exposed.  The Kid was more of a Volkswagen man than a Camaro man, but he had to admit that the Camaro had handled well, and they’d taken out more robots than they could have in a VW.  The Kid was stoked.

 

 Standard Podcast [15:19m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

For a group with such a high-tech headquarters, Dowell had trouble understanding why they were low-tech when it came to transportation.  He’d expected a rocket to shoot them out of the river and into northern Osaka, where the Kuchi Sakeh Onna was on the move.  Instead, they had just come back up through the river and run back to the taxi.  The same woman was driving them.  Their clothes were soaked with river water.  Dowell thought they might want to focus less on computers and monitors and more on a way to get into and out of the facility without swimming.

Dowell turned to the taxi driver, whose face alternated between dark shadows and the bright colors of the neon signs they were passing on the street outside.  “What’s the plan?”

“Catch her.”

“But, doesn’t she kill people?”

“Yes, sometimes.”

“So, isn’t it dangerous?”

The taxi driver smiled.  “Anything worth doing is dangerous.”

 

 Standard Podcast [19:40m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

For years, Mick Aloha had been talking about writing a messiah story.  Aloha was better at talking about ideas than he was at actually following through on them, so his messiah story, solid as it was, remained in the back of his mind.  As he sat on the bottom of the river, unable to breathe as he had yet to develop the ability to breathe water, he wondered if this was his messiah story.  Was he going to die?  Was he going to come back to life?  Was he going to save the world?

Aloha thought, for a moment, that it was true, that he should just give up, take in a big breath of water, and drown on the river bottom.  Coming back to life and saving the world was better than just swimming out of the river.  There was some logic in him, something he’d never before felt, that told him he had to move, he had to breathe air.  That sounded like Dowell-talk, but there was not time for Aloha to contemplate how much he hated his arch enemy.  There was only time for him to save the life of his favorite person.  Himself.

Aloha tried again to free his hands, but they were tied too tightly.  He kicked with his feet and came to the surface, where he took in a gulp of air.  The air went down smooth.  He sank again to the bottom.

Pain shot from the center of his belly to the right side.  He gritted his teeth against the pain.

 

 Standard Podcast [17:36m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

The Kid was just, like, totally standing there, staring at the guy in Eri’s doorway.  The guy’s hair was long and blonde, but more of a tough, dirty blonde, not a Hanson blonde.  He was wearing a wife-beater and both of his arms were sleeved out with tattoos.  It was good work—some of the best the Kid had ever seen—and the way the tattoos related, the way they almost told a story, was cool.  The Kid was totally into the guy’s tattoos, in a big way.

“You just going to stare at me, man?”

“Spssshh, like, I might.  Where’d you get your work done?”

The guy scratched his nose.  “Work?”

“Like, your tattoos.”

 

 Standard Podcast [16:53m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

The sirens grew fainter.  The taxi driver dropped from a run to a fast walk.  Apocalypse Dowell followed close behind.

Dowell thought about just running away.  The taxi driver seemed like a good guy, and he’d taken out all of those robots, but Dowell needed to move on.  He needed to find Aloha and the Kid and then find the Witch Doctor.  Following the taxi driver would just delay him.

“Where are we going?”

“Too many question.”

“That was my first question.”

 

 Standard Podcast [15:50m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

Mick Aloha’s head hurt.  Ninja K was doing a terrible job leading him through the bamboo forest; several times, he had run right into a tree.  Aloha was privy to walking through woods when he couldn’t see.  His father had once taught him how to feel the woods as you walked at night, how to know when there was something in your way without seeing it.  At the time, Aloha had believed him, but now that he was a devout atheist, he knew running through the woods at night without hitting something was just luck.   

Aloha was unprivy to being led by a girl through the woods.  There was nothing wrong with girls—Aloha had stopped being sexist years earlier—but he was just unprivy to the situation.  Ninja K, fine looking woman though she was, had run him into several trees.  The bamboo trees were thin, so it was nothing like running full speed into an oak, which he had done several times, but it still hurt.

His vision had almost fully returned.  He could see that they had cleared the forest and that they were on open ground.  The sounds of the kappa cult were growing louder behind them.

They fell. 

 

 Standard Podcast [15:05m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

The Kid had once heard someone say that just a handful of decisions determined the paths of people’s lives.  It was probably either Tony or Rick who had said it—they were both, like, totally intellectual like that and totally people who would make those kinds of philosophical statements—so it had to be true.  In his lifetime, the Kid had already faced some of these decisions.  The first was when he’d decided to move to San Francisco.  Another had been when he’d decided to ride long boards instead of short boards.  Yet another had been when he’d gotten his tattoos.  And now, sitting in the apartment of a hot Japanese girl who collected junk because of instructions she received from ghosts on her laptop, the Kid was at another of those decision points.   

The voice—the one that had said to get naked—had spoken English.  That meant that it was talking to the Kid.  He, like, had no interest in getting naked, at least not because a ghost told him to.  The Kid was pretty much not into being told what to do by anyone.  Living his own way and doing whatever the hell he wanted was what got him stoked.

 

 Standard Podcast [13:49m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

Apocalypse Dowell had never been much of a driver.  He’d sold his car back in Kentucky, and in San Francisco he’d only taken the bus.  The bus was usually late and full of crazy people, but it was cheap and when he got off the bus he didn’t have to worry about where to park it.

Horns were blaring behind him.  He knew they wanted him to drive faster, but he couldn’t.  Under normal circumstances, on a sunny day out in the country in Kentucky, he drove slowly.  There was no way he would speed up at night in a foreign country where people drove on the wrong side of the road and where he didn’t even have a license.

He had no license to drive in Japan.  He was driving illegally.  That thought made him want to pull over, but the word swarm kept repeating in his head.  The driver had said it.  When he’d first met him, the driver’s English had been understandable but poor.  Then, he’d used the word swarm.  Did they teach that in Japanese schools?  How are you?  Fine thanks, and you?  Please watch out for the swarm.

 

 Standard Podcast [16:41m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

Mick Aloha had a terrible thought as he threw down the Famicom’s controller.  He’d completed the game—using the warp zones and some pretty smooth cheats—to finish in less than fifteen minutes.  That left him five minutes to spare.  The thought, though, kept him from enjoying his victory.  What if—and this was a big what if, but a possible what if just the same—Ninja Aki next asked him to finish part two in 20 minutes.  Aloha was privy to the two versions of Super Mario Brothers 2, the Japanese and American.  The Japanese version was so difficult they didn’t even bother releasing it in the U.S.; instead, they took a different game, changed the characters, and turned it into a Mario game.  Aloha knew there was no chance he could finish the Japanese version in 20 minutes, maybe not even in 20 days, and this took into consideration Aloha’s expert video game skills.

Ninja Aki turned off the TV and Famicom.

“Ne, good job.  Now, for your next test.”

“When can I get something to eat?”

“When the testing has finished.”

“I’m starving, dude.  Myself, I prefer a big breakfast and a big dinner.  I like to start big and end big.  Pretty much, that’s how I live my whole life.”

 

 Standard Podcast [17:15m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

The Kid thought about running, even though he was comfortable on the futon.  Eri—like the Kid had totally remembered her named, because it sounded like airy, and that’s what the Kid was thinking about the space between her ears—was completely nuts.  Anyone who claimed to talk to ghosts, gods, or Santa Claus was nuts.  She didn’t seem too nuts, though.  Not crazy enough to hurt him; at least he didn’t think so.  That’s why he stayed on the futon.

“Like, you talk to ghosts?”

Eri nodded.

“Like, to ghosts.  Not, like, just some guy whose nickname is Ghost?  We’re talking spirits here?  Ghosts?”

Eri nodded again.  “I talk to ghosts.”

 

 Standard Podcast [16:18m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

The robot’s mangled legs left Dowell with little to grip.  He was reminded of a kid named Jason that he’d gone to elementary school with; Jason liked to grab kids’ hands and then use them to punch them in their own faces.  He’d then ask why they were hitting themselves.  It was already an old joke, even when Dowell was in school, but to Jason it was fresh; to Jason, based on his laughter, it was the funniest thing in the world.

They were hovering now.  Flashes of light came from below; Dowell assumed they were the flashes from cameras.  There was a train passing right underneath them; it was hard to make out in the faint light, but it looked orange.

The robot took another swing, and once again it punched its own leg.  The thing was looking pretty bad; soon, it would start to malfunction, and that would be the end for Dowell.  The worst part of dying was that it would make Aloha happy.  He’d probably rub his chin after he got the news and say something about only the tough survive or that the world’s a better place without him.

In the distance, coasting just above the buildings, Dowell saw a dark figure approaching.  It looked like another robot.

 

 Standard Podcast [16:20m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

Mick Aloha was privy to waking up in strange places.  It had been happening to him a lot recently.  What had once seemed to be a negative had turned into a positive, though, as his priviness had prepared him for the current situation.

Aloha pressed against the soft ground to lift himself to a sitting position.  He judged, from the sunlight, that it was just after dawn.  He’d slept all night.

A bamboo forest surrounded him.  Morning mist hung above the ground, hiding the bottoms of the bamboo trees.  Birds called in the distance; Aloha had no interest in birds, other than chicken for eating, so the calls meant nothing to him.

 

 Standard Podcast [22:40m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

Sato’s bunker was totally, like, not a bunker at all.  Bunkers were bunkers, man, with ramparts and other defenses; this was just a studio apartment.  As the Kid surveyed the place and his eyes drifted over the piles of clothes, electronics, and empty beer cans, he thought studio was the wrong word.  Studio made it sound cool, like Sato was giving up his comfort for his art.  There was no art here, though, and there was definitely no organization; Sato was a slob.

The Kid took off his shoes.  He’d heard you were supposed to do that type of thing in Japan, but, like, come on.  The Kid was into wearing his shoes, especially in dumps like this.  There was no telling what the Kid might step on.  This guy had, kind of, saved the Kid’s life, though, and when, after the Kid’s non-verbal cues that he wanted to keep his shoes on, Sato had just kept motioning for him to take his shoes off, the Kid had complied.  The Kid liked that word.  Comply.  Yes sir, I comply.  The Kid was into it.  The Kid was into his own vocabulary.

 

 Standard Podcast [12:34m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Google doc of the text so far.

In the summer between the 6th and 7th grade, Dowell had visited New York City on a school trip.  Looking down on the city from the Empire State Building’s observation deck, with his face pressed against the metal crossbars, he’d heard his classmates discuss the fatal consequences of dropping coins from the deck.

As they talked about it, a girl Dowell had been going to school with since kindergarten tossed a penny over the side.   A worker yelled at her, but it was too late to do anything about it.  Later that day, there were no reports of death on the sidewalks below the building, no FBI agents at their hotel, no reporters following their chartered bus.