CHAPTER 1
Diamond City was bustling with the usual activity. People drove to work in the congested streets, pickpockets made use of the crowded sidewalks to swindle goods, and beggars flanked businessman in a desperate bid to receive money and small scraps of bread. In short, it was like any other city in the world.
The only problem, though, was that there were no other cities to compare it to.
Plit had existed for centuries, but it was only recently that the population, resources, and miracles required to create a city had become available. On top of that, the first kingdom to urbanize was the infamous Rancho. Rancho was best described as an oversized stretch of green with a house every few miles or so. Its king was a farmer with a big pitchfork, while the queen was the king’s cousin. It was the last kingdom expected to contain the world’s first city, yet that was precisely what happened.
It began simply enough. King Rancho was tending to his field one day when his pitchfork broke. It then dawned upon him that there was no way to replace broken equipment, as the nearest store was approximately one hundred and fifty miles away on Rancho’s border, and the lack of roads made long distance travel a suicidal march. The king knew that solving this predicament had to be his number one priority, so together with the queen he went to work on outlining a plan for giving the kingdom’s denizens access to much needed supplies.
His efforts culminated in Moo Moo City, a metropolis that would have dozens of stores catering to a farmer’s needs: pitchforks, animals, seeds, and banjos. Dirt roads would stretch out in all directions from the city, extending to the kingdom’s borders and passing by the house of every citizen. It would also be a nice getaway from the smelly, isolated farms that most Ranchonians resided in, while attracting foreigners looking for a nice vacationing spot. After all, who wanted to keep going to tropical beaches and ski resorts?
Unfortunately, the lack of post offices prevented King Rancho from informing fellow Ranchonians of the plans, and he and the queen passed away before Moo Moo City could see the light of day. Nobody knew of the city plans, and it was only a miracle that allowed for a city to be created anyway. It was named Diamond City, and at the present time, it accounts for approximately 78% of Rancho’s population, as well as 99% of Plit’s human populace.
Dr. Crygor was one of the humans in Diamond City, although he didn’t like grouping himself with the “intelligently deficit”. He considered himself a species of his own, enhanced to the point where he could only be described as “most human”. In his mind, he was a role model that the inferior could try and aspire to. To everybody else, he was a pudgy man in a yellow jumpsuit who waddled around the streets trying to sell his inventions to annoyed passers-by.
His current target was a businessman who was late for work as it was and did not appreciate Crygor’s attempt to sell him a bottle of a sickly green liquid that bubbled profusely.
“You see,” Crygor was saying, “let’s imagine for a second that you are at your workplace and suddenly riots break out on the streets, forcing you to stay inside for several days. Obviously, a lack of water would prove to be quite a hassle, wouldn’t you say?”
The businessman clicked his tongue irritably, but said nothing. His previous attempts at walking away from the conversation had ended with him pinned against the wall by an Extend-O-Arm, so he pretended to listen and hoped the spiel would end soon.
“I understand these concerns, so through a series of dangerous experiments I have created a new element that, once it enters the body, serves the same purpose as water. This liquid, however, is even better than water in that it can keep you hydrated for a month. You can even use it as a replacement for water if you don’t have time to drink the required seven glasses a day, which I’m sure speaks for itself in terms of its benefit.”
“That sounds like a lovely product,” the businessman said hastily. “If you have a store, I will more than gladly come later in the day to purchase this… liquid water riot thing. Anyway…”
Dr. Crygor grabbed him by the sleeve, a difficult task considering Crygor was only three feet tall. “But you must wait one second!” he said. “Why not take a sample? I ensure that you will enjoy it.”
He pushed the cup of the green liquid into the businessman’s face, the strong stench almost knocking him out. The businessman waited until his eyes rolled back into place before taking the cup, deciding that if he drank it, he could run off to work and get on with his life.
With some hesitance, he gulped it down in one go. Almost immediately, he clenched his throat and squeezed as the burning sensation began to spread. His back bent backwards into an awkward position as he broke into a violent spasm. Crygor stared at this display with a smile, as if this was the intended result.
After a minute or so of jerking back and forth while passive commuters stepped over him, the businessman stopped moving. He was alive, but at that moment he wished he had died years ago just so he could have avoided feeling such a horrid liquid pass through his insides.
“How did it taste?” Crygor asked with a grin.
The businessman tried to reply, but his jaw felt like silly putty and all he could manage was a pathetic gurgle.
“Wonderful. I’m opening a store in a month, so be sure to stop by if you want some more.”
Crygor walked off at that point, leaving the hapless businessman gurgling on the ground in hopes somebody would help him up. Nobody bothered, leaving him to struggle to his feet for the next two hours. If there is any doubt that he would be able to live to see the next day, rest assured that the nameless businessman managed to get to his job. Unfortunately, his extreme tardiness had gotten him fired, and by the next month his girlfriend had left him, he was in the unemployment line, and the green liquid had caused a mutation that left him with one arm, three legs, and no nose. On the plus side, he wasn’t thirsty for a long, long time.
However, the businessman’s future is of little concern in the long run. In drinking the green liquid, he had established the foundation for a series of events that would affect Dr. Crygor and, in due time, all of Diamond City.
~~~
Being the first of its kind, Diamond City was not without flaws. For example, an entire neighborhood had to be abandoned when it was found that an architectural mistake had made the second floor of each building the seventh, resulting in many deaths. The information center on the outskirts of the city was also a bit wonky, believing that if foreigners knew what they were going to see, the visit wouldn’t be as exciting. Therefore, they provided no brochures or maps and instead told visitors information about other places.
Perhaps the most infamous “oopsy” at the time was the downtown area. In modern metropolises such as Mushroom City, downtown is filled with casinos, dance clubs, and other places where a party is bound to start. In the case of Diamond City, there weren’t any parties; just a cluster of family-owned stores that could never decide on what to sell and a pub run by religious zealots. It wasn’t a fun place to be, and was generally shunned by the teenage crowd in favor of the industrial area, where most of the parties were held.
Diamond Downtown was also the home of the Diamond Taxi, a cabby business that controlled all the taxis in Rancho. It was just like any other business in the world: immoral and questionably rich. Fortunately, there were many other businesses being conducted on Plit, so the comparison was fair.
Two members of the Diamond Taxi were currently downtown, sitting by an electronics store that specialized in farm tools, eating their lunch. One, a burly bulldog with a green cap, chewed on a meaty bone, while his feline, goggle-wearing comrade seemed content with canned fish. Several feet away, their cab sat by the sidewalk, sparkling in the sunlight.
“Hey Spitz,” the bulldog said in between chews, “you heard the news?”
Spitz, the yellow-furred cat, hissed as he shook his head. “Dribz, you know I don’t read the newspapers. No time for that.”
“Yeah, I know that, but you know how the streets are talkin’,” Dribble said.
“The streets can talk?” Spitz said with genuine surprise.
“No, no! When I say the streets are talkin’, you know I mean that it’s the people that do the talkin’. The people on the streets are talkin’.”
“Well, I’d be surprised if people weren’t talkin’, so what’s the point you’re tryin’ to get at?”
Dribble smacked Spitz upside the head. He was a great cabby, that there was no doubt off, but Spitz was rather slow when it came to figurative language, sarcasm, and common sense in general.
“What I’m sayin’,” Dribble snapped, “is that lots o’ people are talkin’ ‘bout this news, you know, which is why I was askin’ if you knew ‘bout this news!”
“I don’t know ‘bout this news, so what is this news?” Spitz said as he rubbed the cheek that Dribble smacked.
“Well, they sayin’ that scientists have discovered a rip in the sky that is probably some dimensional portal or somethin’ like that. It’s highly unstable, though, and the slightest… erm… anomolomoly can cause it to go bonkers.”
“What’s an anomolomoly?” Spitz asked.
Dribble shrugged. “I think it means to do somethin’ stupid… but yeah, that’s what the streets are talkin’ ‘bout.”
Spitz thought this over as he finished his fish and threw the can to the side. A cluster of rats crawled out of the shadows and quickly snatched the can up before slinking back into the alleyways to feast upon the steel container.
“So that’s it, huh?” Spitz said. He sounded extremely disappointed. “That’s no news worthy of the streets, Dribble! That’s the sort of stuff you’d be readin’ in the newspaper, which is why I don’t read that thing in the first place!”
“You said you don’t read it ‘cause you don’t got time!”
“And that’s true, but even if I had the time I wouldn’t read it!”
“But then you can’t consider that a reason for not readin’ it since it wouldn’t matter if you had the time or not!” Dribble insisted.
“What’s it matter? I don’t want to read it!”
“You’ve got to have the proper reasonin’ if you want to be taken seriously!”
“Well, I… Hey, it’s the doc!”
Dribble and Spitz turned to see Dr. Crygor across the street, trying to persuade an old lady to purchase a Do-it-Yourself Plastic Surgery Kit. His attempts had ended with the woman striking him repeatedly over the head with her walker before wobbling away in a huff.
“Hey, Doc! Over here!” Dribble shouted, waving his thick arms in the air. Crygor heard him, but he was too busy worrying if his brain had been damaged by the hit. After he ran a few scientific equations through his head and solved them, he got to his feet and hobbled towards the anthropomorphic cat and dog.
“Greetings, Dribble and Spitz,” Crygor said shakily. “It’s a wonderful day in Diamond City, is it not?”
“Looked like you were havin’ a lot of fun, Doc,” Dribble said with a nudge. He was twice the size of both Crygor and Spitz, so he had to get down on his knees to successfully tap Crygor in the side. “Did that lady buy the thing you were sellin’?”
“No, but it looked like she enjoyed it.”
“Then why’d she hit you?” Spitz asked.
“I don’t know. It’s possible that she was just trying to give me a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.”
“With her walker?”
Crygor shrugged before changing the subject. “At any rate, it’s nice to see that my little gift to you is faring so well.”
Dribble crossed his arms and guffawed, looking at their taxi. “Our baby is the best it’s ever been. There ain’t been no scratches on it under my watch.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I polish it every day-”
“Shut up, Spitz. Anyway, that thing is the best taxi ever made. Quick, durable, maneuverable on all terrain, and it doubles as a bed too. You wouldn’t believe how comfy it is to sleep there at night.”
“Ah, how wonderful it is to have something so comfy,” Crygor said with a sigh. “I won’t be having a true place to sleep until my store’s grand opening next month. It has a nice little apartment on top, from what I’ve been told.”
“Well, you’re an engineering genius and I have no doubt that you’ll be revolutionizing Diamond City’s shopping scene,” Dribble said.
“I hope so…”
A guttural roar interrupted the conversation, echoing throughout the city’s many nooks and crannies. The sun had been obscured by a veil of dark, ominous clouds filled to the brim with raindrops waiting to be unleashed. Every few seconds, a flash of green lightning illuminated the black sky. A storm was brewing, and the citizens of Diamond City got the hint. Most took shelter in their homes while several dimwitted individuals hid underneath trees. Dribble, Spitz, and Dr. Crygor could only watch as the first few raindrops began to fall.
Dribble swore under his breath. “And just when we were ‘bout to start our last shift of the day.”
“Well, at least you have the comfort of your taxi,” Crygor said. “I, on the other hand, am forced to stay on the streets even in the rain.”
“Come on, there’s a bunch o’ motels in the area. Why not stay in one of ‘em?” Spitz asked.
“I’m afraid I haven’t made any money off of selling my inventions.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” bellowed Dribble. “You’re responsible for some of the greatest inventions of our time. I’m sure people love your stuff.”
“It’s not that they don’t like them,” Crygor said glumly, “None of them seem interested in going beyond the free sample.”
“And why is that?”
“Probably because they’re too busy writhing on the ground with such joy that they forget to purchase it.” Crygor sighed and turned to walk away. “I probably should stop giving free samples.”
Dribble grabbed Crygor by the head just as he was about to walk off, and lifted him into the air. The short scientist struggled to break free, but then remembered that he was suspended six feet in the air and stopped.
“Look, Doc,” Dribble said with a smile that exposed his canines, “you can come with us. You can sit in the front seat with me while I’m drivin’.”
“Hey, that’s my seat!”
“Shut up, Spitz. We’ll finish our shift and then take you to some motel and pay the fee. Sound good?”
“That is awfully kind of you,” Crygor said. “I give you my gratitude.”
Dribble chuckled. “Don’t mention it, Doc.”
The occasional raindrop turned into a torrent of unrelenting water, prompting Dribble to quickly run to the cab and hop in, with Crygor following suit. Spitz hissed, his wet fur resembling a pee-covered mop, before running to the back of the taxi and hopping in the trunk.
Dribble started the ignition and revved the engine three times, just like he always did. He turned to Crygor, whose seatbelt covered half of his body, and grinned. “Hold on tight, ‘cause the best cab in the world is about to go!”
Before any objections could be made, Dribble slammed his foot down and the car shot forward, given extra speed by two rocket boosters attached to the back. The rain barely touched the taxi as it skillfully maneuvered the city’s streets through a series of U-turns, ramping, and the occasional shortcut through a shopping mall. Some might question the practicality of driving a taxi at over two hundred miles per hour in the rain when the purpose of a cabby is to stop for people, but Dribble and Spitz had eaten their fair share of carrots over the years.
It is unfortunate that they didn’t see the giant, rainbow-colored portal stretching open in the sky. They might have been better prepared for what was to happen next.