TEXT: Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  1
  Depopulated Planet: Your Travel Guide to the 
  Known World 
   
  Depopulated Planet (“If it seems lonely it’s 
  because there’s nobody left”) is the number 
  one travel guide to the known world. Why? 
  Because we’ve been there—or if we 
  haven’t it’s because it’s a damn good idea 
  not to go—and we’ll let you know.  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  So, traveler, where do you start? Well, let’s start with a map of the known world. When you’re ready to 
  travel then we’ll discuss stocking up on vaccines, hiring armed escort (never leave home without it), 
  getting a bank to underwrite your expedition, and otherwise putting the trip together—but remember: 
  before you set out anywhere you have to know where you’re going. And we think this is a pretty good 
  place to start taking a look: 
  The Grand Cathedreal of the Congregation—a Must See 
  stop in the BoneYard. Note the hypnotic Plasma-Screen 
  windows and the neo-gothic architecture. Yes: those 
  cannons are loaded. 
  Using This Book 
  We came up with a lot of setting 
  information—and we’ve included it here. 
  This is specific bits: mysteries, places to 
  visit, things to see, and stuff to look for. 
  Whether the world is “actually like this” is, 
  of course, up to the participants 
  (traditionally the GM—but that’s just 
  traditional). So you could junk it entirely. 
  But if you don’t, we wanted to point out 
  two modes of play: 
   
  1. Hand it to the players and let their 
  characters have it as common 
  knowledge. 
  2. The players avoid reading it and it’s 
  used as fodder for exploration. If you 
  are planning on playing in Have-Not, 
  we suggest that you discuss with the 
  GM whether or not you should read 
  this book. In playtest our crew had a 
  good time finding some of this stuff 
  on their own. 
   
  NOTE: We considered including stuff like 
  vaccines, weather charts, and all kinds of 
  other data—but decided to keep it to 
  locale content and commentary. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  2
   
  This is it: the whole thing—all that’s left of it—all that we really know about. Here it is. From the deep 
  forests of the northern reaches to the toxic jungles of the south and the deserts on either side this is what 
  you’ve got to work with. So take a walk through our data files and see what appeals to you, what doesn’t, 
  and what scares you. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  3
  Depopulated Planet: Your Guide To The Middle Ring 4 
  Getting Around.............................................................................................................4 
  Getting Along: Superstition and Etiquette in the Middle Ring.......................................5 
  Revival, Superstition, and the Congregation ............................................................5 
  The Blight .................................................................................................................5 
  The Aliens Amongst Us............................................................................................5 
  Mall Day ...................................................................................................................6 
  Exiles........................................................................................................................7 
  Places and Things in the Middle Ring.............................................................8 
  Middle Ring > Northward Travel > Lake Powell (The Water Barons) ................................................... 8 
  Middle Ring > 10:00 Northwest > Death Alley...................................................................................... 9 
  Middle Ring > Northeast > The Valhalla Mines....................................................................................10 
  Middle Ring > 3:15 Far East > The Chade Rim...................................................................................11 
  Middle Ring > East > 1:15 and Middle > Four Corners Area ...............................................................12 
  Middle Ring > East > 2:30 and Through > The Freq Corridor..............................................................13 
  Middle Ring > 7:00 Southwest > Sonora Desert..................................................................................14 
  The Inner Wasteland..............15 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel ............................................................16 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Falstaff...................................................................................16 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > The Canyon ...........................................................................17 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > The Hanging Valley................................................................18 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Vegas, Baby...........................................................................20 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel............................................................21 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > Tybalt.....................................................................................21 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > Carnivorous Saguaro.............................................................22 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > The Lady of the Toxic Lakes .................................................23 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > The Weeping Hill (The Observatory).....................................24 
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel ..............................................................25 
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel > Route 88..................................................................................25 
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel > The Manufacturing Ruins.........................................................26 
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > Neurosphex ............................................................................27 
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > Neurosphex ............................................................................28 
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > The Reservoir.........................................................................29 
  The Outer Wasteland .............30 
  Outer Wasteland > North > Northern Reach .......................................................................................30 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Pharms.............................................................................................31 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Church of the Congregation.............................................................32 
  Outer Wasteland > East > The Onion Empires and the Kingdom of IZ ...............................................33 
  Outer Wasteland > West > The Pacific Desert and the Shelf..............................................................34 
   
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  4
   
  Depopulated Planet: Your Guide To The Middle Ring 
  The Middle Ring's a pretty big honkin' piece of land to try to sum up in a few paragraphs. There's so much 
  there there that I could spend a week and a half on the basics and you'd be bored dead and I still wouldn't 
  have told you half the things you need to know to get by. 
   
  But, hey—they're paying me to write this, and you've paid to read it. 
  Getting Around 
  When you're in the Middle 
  Ring, there's four directions—
  but they're not your basic north, 
  south, east, and west. Instead, 
  there's clock[wise], 
  counterclock[wise], in, and out. 
  You still need to know that 
  north is noon, and south is six 
  (so bring your compass), but 
  when a local tells you 
  Bakersfield's "sixty clicks clock 
  and in" you'll know he means to 
  go north by northwest around 
  30 miles. 
   
  So now you can figure out 
  where to go. Let's talk about 
  how to go. 
   
  I really recommend you get 
  your own transportation. 
  Relying on anyone else is like 
  being that kid in high school 
  who didn't have a car. If you 
  had a car, you know what I 
  mean, and if you were that kid, 
  you really know what I mean 
  (And if you are that kid: No—I 
  won't drive you out to Radium 
  Flats; not even if you promise 
  to pay for ammo. You still owe 
  me for ammo from last time. 
  Ask your mom, man. That's her 
  job …) 
   
  Lonely roadside chapels exist throughout the known world. Many are ruins. 
  Some are inhabited—but not always by people. In any event, beware: many are 
  equipped with automated guns. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  5
   
  Getting Along: Superstition and Etiquette in the Middle Ring 
  Let’s say you roll into a new town and you see the streets pretty empty, a bunch of horses and a few rusty 
  cars and pickups around a big barn just a hundred yards outside of town, and from in that barn you see 
  lights and hear music and singing. Looks like a town party. Do you pull on up and help yourself? 
   
  No. You don’t. And that’s why you’re reading this. 
   
  They might be having a big ‘ole barn-dance—and likely you’ve got no idea what that really entails 
  anyway—but it’s just as likely they’re having a revival—and you don’t want to walk in on that without 
  knowing the town. Trust me. 
   
  Etiquette in the Middle Ring can get you killed or save your life. So pay attention. 
  Revival, Superstition, and the Congregation 
  There are some funny things out there. Some of what people believe ain’t so. Some of it might be so. And 
  some of it is. So be careful what you dismiss. Most of its just kinda … there. In Cherborg they keep these 
  old radio-antennas broadcasting high-frequency static they believe wards off Nuclear Bombers that are 
  still circling. Never seen one? Fine—but keep your mouth shut and don’t go messing with those radios.  
  That’s not so bad. Some things are worse. 
  The Blight 
  The Blight may or may not exist, but out in the ring, even those who dismiss it … wonder. A certain 
  number of towns go ghost town every year. It’s the law of averages: A well goes bad. A C-Rex 
  demolishes the place. There’s a fire or a plague or raiders or, well, just about anything. But some of those 
  ghost towns don’t have a good explanation. That’s where the Blight comes in. People disagree about the 
  signs. Monsters coming, strange sounds in the night, and clusters of pregnancies all seem to coincide. 
  Water going bad or livestock dying in numbers can be corroborated too. Finally there’s the killer 
  ingredient: People … acting strangely and secretively—meeting in out of the way places … or new 
  strangers in town. If this sounds like it could apply almost all the time … you’re right. So take the hint: 
  don’t be the stranger. 
   
  The Blight isn’t seen so much as a disease as something you can bring to town by being too … inquisitive 
  … too wanton … too cheerful … maybe too promiscuous … too different … or by having met someone 
  who brought the Blight to a town before. Refugees from places that are going bad because of “the Blight” 
  get shut out. But make no mistake: No one thinks it can be treated with medicine. 
   
  And if they think you’re bringing it to town … they’ll hang you and burn the body. If you see a town with 
  doors with red Xs on them and some smoldering foundations, hit the gas, don’t pick up survivors, and 
  drive at least one more town before stopping. Some places don’t take it all that seriously. Some places’ll 
  shoot you if you come down the wrong road at the wrong time. Sometimes even the townsfolk themselves 
  don’t know which is which until something bad happens. 
  The Aliens Amongst Us 
  In the Grand Ruins are all those orbital particle beams that were ready to broadcast terawatts of 
  destructive energy into space—the aliens were something the people of the Age of Wonders feared and 
  waited for and dreamed about. Maybe because they didn’t have anything better to do. Maybe because on 
  some level they hoped to see the Haves get their asses handed to them. Who knows? But what got us 
  first was the lights going out and then us eating our own babies for breakfast … right? The aliens never 
  did come. Did they? 
   
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  6
  Turns out not everyone’s so sure. You can find educated people who say that what happened to the earth 
  was the result of orbital bombardment. There are a lot of legends of inhuman things coming out of flying 
  machines. And today, when nothing much flies around, there are persistent stories of lights in the sky, 
  and odd geometric shapes in the tall grass after their passing. 
   
  It turns out that the aliens want to corrupt us. They take one of us and reprogram him or her to be an alien 
  in mind if not body. This can, you see, happen to anyone. Wives, husbands, mothers, daughters, sons, 
  and friends may all be co-opted by an alien—and once they get one of you, that person will try to get 
  more of you. This happens by being alone with the person for a little while. Maybe it involves a machine. 
  Maybe deep kissing or sex. Who knows? It changes. Those aliens are sneaky, right? 
   
  But when the alien thing is going around, it’s best to leave town—but, you know, maybe not too fast. 
  Because an alien who’s been found out would want to split out of town so they could continue their 
  business elsewhere. Everyone knows that. 
   
  This is bad stuff too. There are laws on the books about fraternizing with ‘external influences’—that’s 
  code for the aliens. The penalty is death. Sometimes creatively. Nothing dissuades those aliens like a 
  good example to others. And trying to prove your innocence is … well, that’s just what an alien would do. 
  See? So when the alien thing is going around, you want to steer clear. Failing that, get someone 
  important to vouch for you. That’ll usually help. But sometimes, if it’s bad enough, they’ll just hammer the 
  last nail in your coffin. 
  Mall Day 
  The Age of Wonders loved the strip mall. It loved big indoor malls even better—but most of those got 
  hammered pretty bad. Some of the strip malls out on the roadsides survived. They’re mostly big cement 
  husks now with great big “cubbyholes” where shops used to be and vast parking lots now mostly cracked 
  and grown through with weeds.  The best have big pylons that used to have lights on them. A few, lucky 
  survivors, even have signs. 
   
  If you happen to catch a town on Mall Day, you can relax somewhat: It’s not like the aliens where people 
  get killed, but don’t just think it’s a big party either. Get too rowdy or disrespectful and you’ll discover why 
  it’s more than just a celebration. 
   
  On Mall Day (and there are several days, the first of Mai being a big one) everyone dresses up and goes 
  to the mall. There are pavilions there that sell stuff in each store and in the parking lot there’s usually big 
  tents with ale and sweets. If you have a car you’re expected to take it—and park inside the yellow lines. If 
  you look like you have a few extra cred, you’re expected to shop. Everything’s on sale (never mind that 
  the prices on Mall Day are usually higher than normal). 
   
  And if you do shop, it can be a great time if you obey the rules. Firstly: it’s not a ruin—it’s a mall. You’re 
  there for a day of shopping with the kids—and the world didn’t fall apart so you don’t swear, you don’t 
  spit, and you keep your gun in your car (or get permission from the sheriff). Secondly, everything “works.” 
  There are lines to the old e-terms to check your “bank account.” Stand in one. Pretend to push the 
  buttons. Don’t make a fuss. It gets dark and dusty back in the backs of the shops. Don’t make a point of it: 
  The lights are on, get it? 
   
  There was no war on Mall Day. The Haves might be out there somewhere, but you don’t mention them. If 
  someone asks you about watching your “shows,” you have—and they were great. On Mall Day no one is 
  sick from a neo-plague (they have a ‘chill’). And so on. If there’s been a tragedy, it’s better to stay home 
  than to go there and cry. No one cries on Mall Day. The rules vary from place to place so pay attention—
  because if you screw it up you’ll get everyone really the hell mad at you.  
   
  See, it’s not just a celebration. It’s well … look at that husk and imagine it bright and painted with glittering 
  lights and marbled facades. It’s gone now, but on Mall Day they want to bring it back. Don’t mess with 
  them. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  7
  Exiles 
  Just so you don't get too carried away with yourself, consider the Exiles. What's an Exile? Well, an Exile 
  is a person, just like you or me … maybe … who hears a "call." Now the big-heads in the BoneYard are 
  pretty sure this "call" does exist and is a for-real telepathic phenomena, but what exactly causes it, and 
  why it works the way it does—the diabolical way it does—is still a mystery. There are places in the Outer 
  Wasteland … in the Inner Wasteland … and in the Ruins (and even a few "just out there" in the Middle 
  Ring) where the Haves buried … something.  
   
  If you ever see one of these places, get the hell away—right then—as soon as you know, and if one of 
  your buddies wants to go and isn't taking 'no' for answer? God help you: He's hearing the call. 
   
  Whatever it is that's down there, it's under a cement block about two to five acres in area and surrounded 
  with telepathic broadcast markers that give you a feeling like fingernails being drawn across a blackboard. 
  On the stone itself are warnings in about a billion different languages: “Do Not Dig. Do Not Disturb. Leave 
  Immediately.” And, if you're there, and you're fairly fortunate, that's about it. 
   
  But that's because you're not hearing the call. If you do (and you can hear it from anywhere in the known 
  world as far as anyone knows) when you get there something else happens. The general belief is that 
  whatever's entombed there can "impregnate" you with its malevolence.  Then you mutate—radically—and 
  you become a monster. Very few people have studied the psychology of Exiles: They terrorize, they kill, 
  they're tough and with age they get tougher, they're isolated and take to the ruins (thankfully)—but they 
  lurk there, looking for people to dine on. Before whatever happened to them happened they were, well, 
  ordinary people. 
   
  Well, maybe not exactly ordinary. The records suggest it's a certain anti-social character type that hears 
  the call. A sort that's drawn there but is already anti-social, anti-authoritarian, and self destructive. When 
  you consider the other superstitions, consider this: We don't know the aliens never came. We do know 
  that more than one family has had a young man leave home, and never come back … only to be an 
  eternal monster lurking in the ruins. That, at least, is something to be afraid of. 
   
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  8
   
  Places and Things in the Middle Ring 
  When you're out on the road, it looks like an infinity of nothing—and if you don't have a map it just might 
  be. There's not a lot of space in the Middle Ring … compared to the planet, but there's way more than 
  enough to get lost in and there are bad things out there waiting for people who do. Here are just 
  some—just a few—of the things you might see, or some of the places you might go. And remember: 
  This is in the Ring. Get too far off the trail and you're out of the Ring … and then there's no guide 
  anywhere that'll help you. Then you've fallen off the edge of the world. And if you thought there were 
  monsters at home …  you ain't seen nothing yet. 
  Middle Ring > Northward Travel > Lake Powell (The Water Barons) 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: Above the Inner Wasteland, lies one of the few remaining 
  unspoiled sources of clean above-ground water. Lake Powell. 
  Water, in the Middle Ring, is life. It is said that the only commodity 
  more precious that water in the Middle Ring, is time. You can buy 
  water; you can't buy time. The Water Barons might disagree –
  through the sale of water, they have bought themselves time. 
   
  If "civilization" exists anywhere outside of The Yard, it might be 
  Lake Powell. The Barons are ancient families run by ancient 
  patriarchs. All of them trace their ancestry back to the powerful men 
  and women of the Age of Wonders. Some of them lived through the 
  Age of War – the Water Barons are cyborgs. Their incredible wealth 
  has bought them eternal life, so long as the money flows and the 
  power stays on. For the Barons, their families, the medical and 
  technical crews which service and maintain them (almost a 
  priesthood), and for their valued employees, life around Lake 
  Powell is magnificent and rarified. Comfortable. Wealthy. A tiny 
  sliver of paradise surrounded by vicious nothingness.  
   
  For you, it's a nice place to visit, but don't let the rustic charm fool 
  you: the a night in those little inns costs as much as a luxury suite 
  in the city. A drink in the clean, inviting tavern costs more than a full 
  tank of premium gasoline. And a cottage in the hills? Don't even 
  think about it. The prices are set to keep you out. To keep everyone 
  out. And they're very serious about paying. And they're very serious 
  about curfew. Unless you fit in to their nice, clean fantasy world, be 
  careful. You see, the Barons didn't live to be 300 by being sloppy, 
  trusting, or incautious. They know you're jealous. They know they're 
  bastards. And they know that the only thing worse than being dead 
  is being poor. So they'll do anything to protect their investment and 
  that might include making an example now and again. 
  Middle Ring > North > Lake Powell > The 
  Water Barons > The Family Estates 
  Those big castles you see up in the mountains 
  surrounding the lakes are Family Estates. Each 
  one houses a Patriarch or Matriarch of one of 
  the Baron's families. That means a medical 
  facility, a data center, a nuclear power plant and 
  a backup or two. The Barons, see, are no 
  longer mobile. They've given up walking around 
  to become massive, distributed machines. 
  They've paid all but the last kernel of their 
  humanity to ensure survival. How much does 
  that cost? I've heard it's a fortune apiece a 
  week... but as long as the water flows, it's their 
  fortune to burn. 
  North > Lake Powell > Glen Canyon Dam
  The secret to Lake Powell, the Water Barons, 
  and the whole deal is the Glen Canyon Dam. 
  Built ages ago, it controls the flow of water, 
  keeps the lake full, and provides the Water 
  Barons with their hegemony. The private 
  security forces you see in the area mean 
  business. They're there to make sure nothing 
  ever happens to that dam, and they're very well 
  paid and very well trained. 
   
  You can look at the Dam at a distance. At dusk, 
  its lights, reflected on the river, surrounded by 
  living greenery, are one of the most beautiful 
  things imaginable. Look. Sigh. Then move on. 
   
  Middle Ring > North > Lake Powell > The Water Barons > Speed Traps
  One of the rights townships have is the right to impose "velocity limits" on their domain. This is ostensibly to have the "right" to fire 
  on someone blitzing them—but it gets a different deal in places that don't like travelers that much. The speed trap consists of a 
  posted limit in the middle of nowhere (and trust me—it looks like one of those ancient signs) and a fast heavily armed "patrol car." 
  Sometimes it's just a stiff fine. Sometimes it's a night in the stockade and a stiff fine. Keep an eye out around here. Observe 
  posted limits, even if it feels silly. You're driving on their land and often they don't like it one little bit. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  9
  Middle Ring > 10:00 Northwest > Death Alley 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: You've heard of the Alley Run: a 90 mile race for people who 
  think swallowing a live grenade isn't a flashy enough suicide for them? This 
  is where it happens (when it happens—it was never an official event of any 
  sort—it's just something people have done from time to time: stupid 
  people). Death Alley is the lowest stretch of land that isn't off the Pacific 
  Shelf. It's 120-degrees easy in the summer and you'd need 4 gallons of 
  water a day to hike it. But don’t break out the big canteens yet: you'd never 
  survive it on foot. Not a chance. 
   
  Down in the Alley is another eco-system. The story, and there's enough 
  history types that say it's true, is that just before the collapse the Haves
  granted the ability to a geno-artist to create an alternate eco-system. He 
  created two spheres: the New Sun, a big one, and the New Moon, a little 
  one. Both were encased in tungsten steel and both contained … well … 
  something. Whatever code it was that made life spring up out of the earth, 
  they say. I think it contained tiny machines to build creatures from the 
  ground up. But what do I know? Anyway, he took both down there. He was 
  an important guy back then (we don’t even remember his name today) and 
  he had clout to do some things, like commission volunteers … well … a 
  volunteer to be the caretaker. It was supposed to be a monument to what 
  could've been. It's not making that statement any more. 
   
  The moon broke open. There's some stuff about an agent of a Warlord with 
  a voucher for money and power and drugs and anything else you could 
  want. There's a story about a little army of powered troopers and them 
  driving around in the Alley taking shots at things. But it comes down to this: 
  they went to the Sanctuary (it's still down there) and they broke open the 
  Moon. The story ends with them all dying—but who really cares? They 
  were only the first. 
   
  Whatever it was, it's stayed confined to the valley and that's a good thing. 
  Now, when people have zero sense and a lust for death they start at Big 
  Pine and barrel down 190 until they hit Mushroom Rock then they take the 
  bad road (West Side) going right and then either merging with 190 and 
  "chickening out" by heading east to the Death Alley Junction or finishing 
  the run on the really bad road (Harry Wade) and exiting south. Not too 
  many vehicles can do it fast—and a whole legion of people who've started 
  haven't finished. And if you're not nuts, you can take what's left of 95 and 
  just go around it. 
  Middle Ring >  10 O'Clock > Death Alley > 
  Culture 
  About midway down the Alley and outside of 
  it is a nifty little town called Rhyolite. It's as 
  thriving as it gets out there and there's a good 
  deal to see and do. For a few credits, they'll 
  even take you on a tour to the edge of the 
  Alley and you can look down with rented field 
  glasses and see the Gilas. It's worth it. If 
  while you're there, you run into a group of 
  women who have long dark hair, big brown 
  eyes, and sun-browned skin Keep Your 
  Distance: this is definitely "look, but do not 
  touch territory." When they do speak, they're 
  hard to understand. That's because they don't 
  use their voices much. The Alley girls are 
  telepathic. 
  They're 
  also 
  powerfully 
  pyrokenetic—which means they can set you 
  on fire by looking at you. Finally, they're all 
  clones. Don't ask me what they have down 
  there that makes them, but they (she?) are all 
  descendants of the original caretaker. They 
  guard the New Sun where it still lies in its 
  temple. 
  Middle Ring >  10 O'Clock > Death Alley > 
  Fauna 
  So what is down there? What animals did the 
  New Moon bring upon us? Well, you've heard 
  of the Gila Monsters, right? Tiger-stripped 90-
  ton lizards the size of a semi-truck? Did you 
  know they vomit a super-charged "plasmatic 
  acid?" Yes? Okay. There are the lizards, and 
  they are worth the look (from the tour, up in 
  the mountains) but there are other things too. 
   
  The acid-rattlers are snakelike things that 
  inject what I'm told is a "super-acid." How 
  super is it? Well it'll eat through an armored 
  tire in a matter of seconds. Combine that with 
  the fact that they litter the road and 
  aggressively attack oncoming vehicles and 
  you have more people changing a tire in the 
  Alley than you'd think. And changing a tire 
  can be deadly. 
   
  There's also the Shard Birds. They come 
  from one-inch to about fifteen feet across and 
  look like flying black triangles. As their name 
  implies, they're pretty sharp too. A swarm 
  (they're more like insects than birds, really) 
  can impale you like a storm of sharp pieces of 
  glass. There are acidic carpets of moving 
  lichen that, if you walk on, will suck you down 
  like quicksand. 
   
  Yeah, it's a nice place. 
  Middle Ring >  10 O'Clock > Death Alley > Badwater
  Badwater's a lake in the south section of the alley. It ain't much of a lake, 
  but next to it is the Temple: the place where the caretakers guard the New 
  Sun. If you stop in Badwater, make sure you have permission (and if you're 
  not sure: you don't) and don't be too curious. After the thing with the New 
  Moon, they've upgraded to turreted mini-guns, smart mines, and snipers. 
  And then there's the whole telepathic thing. They'll probably know if you're 
  coming—so don't. Anyway, what's it look like inside? A big tiled plus-sign of 
  a floor and in the middle is something that looks like a gazebo—a little 
  house they used to have out in gardens. Inside that is a 1yard in diameter 
  metal sphere that floats in air. I'm told it's almost indestructible, unlike the 
  New Moon which was a lot less thick-skinned. Good thing too. I'm told if it 
  did break, the whole world would be taken over by the new eco-system and 
  we'd be history. Believe it if you want … but please don't go finding out for 
  yourself. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  10
  Middle Ring > Northeast > The Valhalla Mines 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: When the world ended, that is, when the domes went dark, not 
  everyone rioted. Some started building armies right away. Some tried in 
  vain to put society back together. A few tried to do something else—they 
  tried to escape. Most of these attempts involved either mountain retreats 
  (which were overrun), a whole lot of drugs (which worked … kind of), or 
  virtual-reality tanks. The latter had promise but inevitably failed due to 
  either lack of power or lack of external defensive systems. That, and the 
  fact that VR, while "advanced," was never a really good substitute for real 
  life (so we are told).  
   
  The histories that remain tell of former paragons of their respective 
  communities being ripped naked out of VR tanks by a warlord's troops who 
  wanted the gear for other purposes. In short, mainly, it didn't work. 
   
  But there's always the story of that one that did, right? Well this is it. The 
  city known as Colorado Springs had been home, during the Information 
  Age, to a military nerve center called NORAD. As such, it not only boasted 
  a big granite mountain but substantial corridors and rooms under that 
  mountain which were meant to survive a nuclear strike. 
   
  In the Age of Wonders, all that had been more or less dismantled. They 
  built an amusement park there, gave tours, and laughed at the barbarism 
  of their ancestors.  Word is that in the early days of the Age of War, one of 
  the first tac-nuke mortars was fired at Springs just because. Anyway, it got 
  hit—and pretty hard (but not very hard—at least not by a nuke). 
   
  No. When things went bad, a mover and shaker known as Seymour 
  Caligrad had slammed the big metal bulkhead doors on his internal system 
  after admitting his chosen few (who probably came from quite a distance 
  away to get in). Those people, it is said, got to see a nuclear powered, self-
  sustaining VR-tank with life extension gear to grant them eternal bliss and 
  all of it protected by five-foot thick armor-steel doors and many megatons 
  of solid rock. These privileged people would live in the heavenly virtual 
  estate for as long as they desired and then re-emerge to take advantage of 
  a world that had put itself back together. They were probably planning on 
  something like 25 years of downtime. But still, it sounded like a good plan: 
  The kind of plan that makes people jealous. 
   
  They found the door. Well, a warlord known as Virtuvious Ignacious III 
  found it, and he wasn't happy with them. He probably could have broken in 
  if he'd had a mining machine, but he didn't. He'd just defeated the force 
  that was holding the old NORAD complex and he was looking to leave it 
  cleaned out, hopefully for good, and having a bunch of formerly important 
  guys inside a metal drum dreaming happy dreams just plain rubbed him 
  the wrong way. But, as I said, he didn't have mining machine he'd need to 
  get them out. 
   
  He did have a Tectonic Warhead, however, and he set it off inside what 
  remained of the NORAD command complex. The part he could reach. 
  Tectonic warheads turn the ground to soup for several hundred meters 
  based on power. This was a big one. The mountain today looks melted and 
  the VR-tank is, in theory, still in operation some 4000 yards down … or 
  further. It's said he attached a couple to it, all timed. No one knows how 
  many. 
  Middle Ring > Northeast > The Valhalla 
  Mines > Topside 
  When you get to Springs you can still see some 
  of the old loops of the rollercoaster things that 
  were in the amusement park. They're a bit 
  radioactive and mostly buried (more Tech-
  nukes) but they're pretty to look at: Like the 
  skeletal spines of mammoth Cyborgs. 
   
  There's also "the Pit." A massive strip mine that 
  runs pretty much day and night. There are 
  deeper 
  shafts 
  around—probe 
  shafts—and 
  people have tried all kinds of sonar imagery, but 
  there's so much stuff buried there, and the rock 
  is so dense, that it's not conclusive. But 
  somewhere down there is heaven and the 
  Yohan Kelvin Mining Company means to find it. 
  Middle Ring > Northeast > The Valhalla 
  Mines > The Yohan Kelvin Mining Company 
  The YK Mining company is one of the most well 
  funded in the world. Don't make the mistake of 
  thinking the mining  is profitable—no—Yohan 
  makes his money right here in the BoneYard, 
  with military contracts. And he does pull a lotta 
  junk out of the pit, but it's not worth so much
  (mostly radioactive). But if the mining isn't 
  profitable, the mine is: There are people who 
  think he's gonna hit pay dirt and dig down to 
  Vahalla—still running, still offering heaven to 
  those who can get in and hook up. Yohan has a 
  list of benefactors and special people, and if 
  you're on it, and he digs it up, you get in. People 
  pay to be on that list. They pay a lot. 
   
  But normal folk can get on it too, they'll tell you. 
  You sign up to mine. First you prove you're 
  worthy by handing over everything you came 
  with (which isn't much). Then you and your 
  family (even the little ones can find something 
  to do) work day and night. You dig hard, take no 
  pay (the company will keep you alive) and live 
  right. And if you do, one of the secret over-
  watchers with the authority might take a shine 
  to you, and you're on the list. They're gonna find 
  it any day now. Just listen to them. 
   
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  11
   
  Middle Ring > 3:15 Far East > The Chade Rim 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: Heading east into the Red Desert gets ugly fast, but until 
  you hit Chade, you're still in the part of the Ring where people can 
  and commonly do travel. By the time you've hit Chade though, 
  you're in the dunes. There are a few scattered outposts here, the 
  outer edge of western civilization before you hit the Onion Empires 
  and then further east to the near mythical Kingdom of IZ. But Chade 
  is far enough east and plenty desolate for most people. 
  Middle Ring > 3:15 and OUT > The Chade Rim > Corosong 
  Outpost 
  The Outpost looks like a collection of mudbrick houses amidst the 
  red dunes. The road there is covered some times of the year and 
  there is a water well down there, but expect to bring your own. They 
  don't share, they sell. Go most times of the year and you'll see 
  people with shawls and hoods and desert robes walking around. But 
  go when a trade crew from the Onion Empires or IZ comes through 
  and it's a whole other story. 
   
  When the caravan is in town there's music, there's trade, there's 
  alcohol (who knows where they keep it the rest of the time). There's 
  dancing and psychoactive onions and all kinds of things. Trade 
  happens here first. A lot of small weird things that never make it to 
  the ‘Yard get sold here. If you're obviously a gawky tourist you'll just 
  get drunk and robbed (hopefully in that order), but if you can blend 
  there are always interesting deals to do and people to talk to. Sure, 
  most of the soldiers are strung out on Dead Line, but their 
  commanders aren't, and they aren’t as cautiously cool as they are 
  by the time they make the 'Yard. 
  Middle Ring > 3:15 and OUT > The Chade Rim 
  > Fauna 
  The tribes hunt the Chade Shark. You've heard of 
  Sand Dragons that burrow under the dunes. The 
  Shark does that too, but it's different. There are 
  natural Cyborgs like the C-Rex, Cycletaurs, and 
  War Dogs. The sharks take that a bit further. Cut 
  one open? It's got a valve in its lungs that's a 
  perfect fit for an engine fuel injection system 
  control system.  Muscle? You don't even have to 
  cure it—it comes out smooth and shiny like 
  leather. Veins? Surgical tubing—it's not plastic … 
  but it doesn't rot. They have bones with regular 
  holes that make a full set of socket wrenches. 
  Trust me, these things are vicious and deadly but 
  they did not happen by accident. 
  Middle Ring > 3:15 and OUT > The Chade Rim 
  > Getting Around 
  Roads are unreliable out there: The dunes shift. 
  But you can usually off-road it pretty well. If you're 
  adventurous, you can try a Sand Board. The 
  natives build them and you may see a sail or two 
  in the distance. Take a board of polished, waxed 
  wood that looks like it belongs in the water and 
  put a sail on top (brightly colored translucent 
  plastic), a small jet engine on the back, and a 
  light-hover pod to make it almost weightless and 
  you have a Sand Board. It takes skill to ride and it 
  won't work well on earth harder than the dunes,
  but if you're good you can do 35 miles an hour or 
  better all day long—or as long as your fuel holds 
  out. 
  Middle Ring > 3:15 and OUT > The Chade Rim > Markarak's 
  Spur 
  The Spur is an ancient installation. It rises out of the desert, 8 
  stories of gray steel with massive industrial vents, fans, and twisting 
  pipes showing. It belonged to a warlord named Markarik (its origin is 
  a mystery) and was taken by the 'Yard in the far distant past. If you 
  can reach it, you will find what is probably the furthest reach of the 
  'Yard's civilization. The spur is some sort of huge machine. In the 
  multilevel basement are huge generators and ancient fuel cells. 
  Even more strangely, the writing on the controls is of a language 
  unknown to historians. It is not the Standard Alphabet that was 
  spoken world wide in the Age of Wonder. A research team, an 
  observation team, and a guard team labor there (and have for 
  decades) trying to plumb its depths and discover its mysteries. If you 
  can reach it, you may get a warm reception if you power down your 
  vehicles and peace bond your weapons. With so little contact, the 
  crews are less hostile than they might be if you can show 'Yard ID. 
  Who knows? Maybe you'll even discover something. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  12
  Middle Ring > East > 1:15 and Middle > Four Corners Area 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: When the end of the Age of War came, most of the major players had 
  already been hit with a nuke. The final battles were tiny compared to the first few, and 
  more often than not, ended in compromise of some sort. The Four Corners Area was 
  controlled by a warlord whose defeat was one of the final chapters in the rise of the 
  Hierarchy. But it's one that's not quite done yet. Horatio Umberto the Fifth was taken 
  without a fight, but his spirit lives on in the "Corners." It isn't a wholly nice spirit, but it's 
  one you might not want to miss. 
   
  Umberto was one of the great winners of the history lottery. The records that remain 
  show him as an amiable hedonist who wound up in control of his family's army just in 
  time to win a few wars and then fold like a house of cards before the might of 
  Hierarchy, saving his life and leaving his citadel as a monument rather than a crater. 
   
  Today the "Corners" look like a slightly sprawling collection of little mud-brick villas and 
  slightly larger estates. If you drive through it, you'll see all the normal town-life stuff but 
  there's something a little different in the atmosphere: there's music. There's a little 
  celebration every night when the sun goes down (see the Dance Floor) and in the 
  distance is the ruin of Umberto's castle. Oh—and something else? When people go to 
  the Corners they pay careful attention to who they make deals with or who they sleep 
  with: they say everyone in the town is a shape shifter. 
  Middle Ring > 1:15 and Middle 
  > Four Corners Area > Events 
  > Samhain 
  In the middle of Yuly is the 
  event known in the Corners as 
  Samhain. It's a musical event 
  and a chance to drop some 
  really strong drugs and a 
  chance to engage in wanton 
  revelry as few people ever 
  engage in wanton revelry. It's 
  the night all the shapechangers 
  are out in force and putting on 
  their freakshows. The real 
  radicals come up from The 
  Canyon to hang out and listen 
  to the live musicians play. And if 
  you've got two arms and two 
  legs and, y'know, could pass for 
  normal in a trench coat, wear a 
  mask. It doesn't fool anyone, it 
  shows respect. 
  Middle Ring > 1:15 and Middle > Four Corners Area > Sight Seeing > The Dance 
  Floor 
  Sometime in the past, four great states met to decide on … something. I can't tell you 
  what, nobody remembers. For all I know it may just have been that they were "four 
  great states and hey, here's where we all meet." It doesn't matter—they put up a flat 
  expanse of concrete with steps cut into four equal square sections (Get it? "Four 
  Corners?" See why I might think they had little poetry in their soul?) Anyway: Umberto 
  turned it into a monument of his own called The Dance Floor, and there's always live 
  music during the dusk hours. Nice lightshow too. 
  Middle Ring > 1:15 and Middle 
  > Four Corners Area > 
  Metamoprhs  
  There's something in the gene 
  pool in Four Corners. Umberto 
  was a shape shifter and so was 
  his family—the word is that he 
  slept around a lot (easy to 
  believe from the records: he was 
  more party animal than warlord 
  even in his heyday). As a result 
  the sleepy little town is host to 
  shape shifters, mimics, and 
  meta-morphs. That lovely 
  Senorita who’s giving you the 
  eye might turn out to be a bald, 
  muscular leather clad male biker 
  type the other 364 days of the 
  year—and yes, it seems that 
  stunt never does get old. Watch 
  yourself. 
  Middle Ring > 1:15 and Middle > Four Corners Area > Attractions > White Pit 
  Saloon  
  An odd little place: The food is cooked by a salvaged "automated kitchen" hauled out 
  of one of the ruins. It has a "distinctly Mexican Flavor," whatever that is. You can see 
  the inner workings through the windows. Want the real scoop? The machine's a fake; 
  all the food is made by hand. 
  Middle Ring > 1:15 and Middle > Four Corners Area > Attractions > Snake 
  Dancers 
  One of the more interesting sights that’s common in the Corners are the Snake 
  Dancers. They’re (mostly) lean, hairless guys covered with tattoos and “wearing” 
  snakes. Not snake-skin. Snakes. Brightly colored ones. Both parties are intelligent—
  and they’re symbiotic. No one knows how it got started, but they have a reputation for 
  being mystics, con-men, artists, and shamans. Be careful: the snakes (which are 
  highly venomous) are basically married to their host and if you insult one of the 
  “dancers” by telling him his “pet” can’t ride with you but he’s welcome, you’re asking 
  for trouble later. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  13
  Middle Ring > East > 2:30 and Through > The Freq Corridor 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: The Freq's (pronounced Freaks) are a mystery. A nasty brutish mystery that 
  probably wouldn't be all that fun to crack, but a mystery nonetheless and a big hazard. 
  I've seen a Freq attack and if you can imagine a squad of armed dune buggies with 
  grappling hooks and machine guns and stuffed with idiot, leering, bald-headed guys 
  roaring out of the desert towards you, you're dead on the money. Imagine them with 
  unhealthy looking yellowish skin and blocky radio gear slammed into their skulls and 
  you have a complete picture. 
   
  And they keep coming. They come en mass. They come with guns and ammo. And 
  they come to kill. Maybe there's still a warlord somewhere up there, breeding Freqs 
  and sending them down in wave after wave. Maybe it's some kind of sick cosmic joke. 
  Certainly someone knows or knew something we don't. But whatever the case, a 
  stretch of land about 75 miles wide is called the Freq Corridor and it's where they're 
  most active, all the way down to the Inner Wasteland in some cases. It makes 
  traveling through this area dangerous. Living there is almost insane, but traversing the 
  corridor is better than going through the Inner Wasteland (there you know you'll see 
  something horrid—and in the Corridor you don't have to drive 125mph just to live), so 
  it's a fact of life for too many people. 
   
  Places in the Corridor run jamming fields, broadcast signals that hold the Freqs at bay. 
  This sounds simple, but it takes a loud frequency, a stronger signal than even most 
  convoys can manufacture. So getting enough power out there is always a problem. 
  Middle Ring > 2:30 and Through > The Freq Corridor > Places To Go > The 
  Library 
  There's something about the Congregation that makes you think they're never telling 
  what they really think. That everything they say or do is meant for the audience and 
  that they're keeping all the good stuff for themselves.  If that's true, if they are, then 
  that good stuff is probably hinted at in The Library. You can see the building, a bunker 
  with steeples, gun towers, and all that. It's open for services, of course, but you have 
  to go through two security arches and there's acolytes watching your every move. And 
  they have submachine guns under those robes, buddy.  
   
  If you want to see the stacks you need permission, and you gotta have more pull than 
  I do. But I've talked to people who've been in there (down there, through there) and 
  this is what they tell me: The Stacks hundreds of miles long of shelves with thousands 
  and thousands of magnetic-tape cartridges. The readers are special machines: ugly, 
  black metal. Heavy. You sit and press your face against the view port and forward 
  wind and rewind to find the records you need.  
   
  So what's in those tapes? Where did they come from? Some people I've spoken with 
  said that these stacks contain the records of the Aquarian Heresy—the telepathic 
  movement of the Age of Wonders that so offended the Haves that it was banned. 
  Others say that they're Have diaries, that they're personal records left before the 
  domes went dark. There's other theories as well: That they're records psychic insights. 
  That they're a riddle left by the Haves to explain why they left. That they're messages 
  from the aliens. The really cool thing is that no one can agree on what they say. Two 
  people view (read?) the same tape and come away with completely different 
  understandings. Sources familiar with the translation effort (now in its 108th year) say 
  that the true hazard of the job is the overwhelming frustration of the work. No wonder 
  those acolytes at the gate are always in a bad, hair-trigger mood. 
  Middle 
  Ring 
  > 
  2:30 
  and 
  Through > The Freq Corridor 
  > Strange Desert 
  There’s a place in the corridor 
  about the middle called the 
  Moon Walk Café. It’s a diner, 
  out in the middle of the desert—
  and I’ve been there: it’s like no 
  place else you’ll ever go. It’s all 
  chrome and Formica and vinyl. 
  They have this great big lit-up 
  music machine called a Juke 
  Box and they serve hamburger 
  and great big mikshakes and 
  more or less act like the world 
  never ended. It’s got a dream-
  like quality even in the middle of 
  the day. It’s strange. 
   
  There are stone pyramids. Not 
  so big—but well crafted—and 
  obviously not an accident. No 
  one knows who built them, or 
  why. Or when. They’re strange. 
   
  There’s an outpost called 
  Texaco with a giant glowing red 
  star that you can see for miles. 
  They battle with the Freq’s 
  almost constantly—they live 
  and die by the power to their 
  Jammers. What are they 
  guarding? Nothing. Sure, they 
  save travelers who get in over 
  their heads often, but the Yard 
  doesn’t station them out there, 
  and it’s hard bad land. They 
  could just move. But they don’t. 
  They’re fiercely proud of the 
  little clump of rocks they’ve got. 
  It’s strange. 
   
  Whatever you choose to 
  believe, people in the corridor 
  vanish—and it isn’t all due to 
  Freqs or monsters or bandits—
  at least not statistically. So if 
  you’re crossing it, stay in radio 
  contact (they say it helps). And 
  don’t take anything—anything in 
  the corridor for granted. 
   
  Watch yourself. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  14
  Middle Ring > 7:00 Southwest > Sonora Desert 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: South of the Inner Wasteland is the vast, empty Sonora Desert. If you go 
  deep enough into it, you'll find the jungle again and the Pharms. But those things 
  are so far away, they might as well be myths. Before you get there, you'll find 
  yourself in Sonora. For the most part it's typical Middle Ring with a little less water 
  and a little more industry. Small towns, strung out along the fading highways. In the 
  heat of the day, it's siesta. The streets are empty. Even the larger towns look like 
  they've gone ghost. But then, as the sun shifts, shadows start to move and people 
  emerge. By the time the sun goes down the hanging candles have been lit, and the 
  music starts up. Before dawn, and after dark, Sonora comes alive. 
   
  Like most places in the Ring, strangers who spend their money and keep to 
  themselves are appreciated. Strangers who ask questions or cause trouble are not. 
  Even visitors from other parts of the Middle Ring find the Sonorans a little strange 
  though, but usually in ways outsiders might not even notice. They say they're 
  dreamers and that they keep secrets. Maybe they have secrets to keep. That makes 
  me think of the Konkaak. 
  The Middle Ring > South > The Vale of Cortez > Spawning 
  Grounds 
  The middle of the Vale of Cortez is a low place on the earth. 
  Sheltered on all sides by high rock walls (the cliffs) it is one of the 
  most inhospitable landscapes ever imagined. Few people have 
  seen it. Travel there is problematic; there are no roads. There are 
  soft sands that confound even the most hearty machinery. The 
  heat is brutal, the wind furious. Even on an apparently calm day, 
  the sands never stop shifting. Lay down for an hour to rest and 
  you might find yourself being slowly buried. 
   
  Those who have pressed in and returned say that there is a thin 
  strip of damp, dark earth that runs the length of the middle of the 
  Vale of Cortez, and it is the Spawning Ground. Here, black worm-
  like things as long as a man's arm breed, grow, consume each 
  other, and die in the sun. It is said that on hatching day, the earth 
  erupts in an orgy of mating, howling, and cannibalistic violence. 
  The dark eel things are murderously intense, their frenzy is part of 
  a strange, pathological lifecycle that returns their bodies to the 
  earth, fertilizing the ground with their blood for the next iteration of 
  life in this forsaken place.  
   
  The worm things are nameless, except that they are called eels 
  by the humans who live in the vale, and they are harvested by 
  those who know the secret ways of the vale (how to get in, how to 
  get out, how not to get lost or buried in a sandstorm, and how to 
  collect the eels without being consumed in their tight, vicious 
  circle of life). It is said that the meat of the eels makes one strong, 
  hard, and brave.
  The Middle Ring > South  > 
  The Konkaak 
  Ask any Sonoran, and they'll tell 
  you the Konkaak don't exist any 
  more. They're clear about that. 
  Back in the Age of Wonders 
  they were already a legend: 
  People who lived in the worst of 
  the badlands. People lived in 
  the sand and the ruins back 
  when they weren't sand and 
  ruins. The Konkaak. A people 
  who were mythical, even in a 
  mythical time. 
   
  The Middle Ring > South > The Konkaak > The 
  Dreaming Turtles 
  Out there on those weird, endless plains you 
  might (if you're very lucky) come across a fat, 
  dome-shaped rock covered with bright colors; 
  psychedelic blues and yellows and oranges, so 
  bright it's hard to look at. If you do look, though, 
  long enough, you'll see the rock move. These are 
  the Dreaming Turtles -- la tortuga que sueña. 
  They're all different sizes, but the average is about 
  a yard across and almost that high. 
   
  According to reports, the dreaming turtles emit a 
  variety of radio signals. They're not powerful, but 
  with the right equipment, you can pick'em up miles 
  away. Most folks say it's nothing but gibberish. But 
  it's interesting gibberish. It's words and phrases in 
  a human voice. Sometimes it the voices talk over 
  each other. There's a name for it; word salad. I 
  don't know what that means, but it sounds about 
  right. According to the legends, the Konkaak could 
  understand the turtles and knew their radio 
  broadcasts were transmissions from the turtle's 
  dreams. So far, so good, but they also said the 
  wise, ancient turtles dreamed about the future. I 
  guess that's a good thing. A good sign. Means we 
  still have a future. Keeps the hope alive, you 
  know... 
  The Middle Ring > South > The Vale of Cortez > Upstairs, Downstairs
  Up on the cliffs there are magnificent private mansions where the Jefe's live. Down, on the plain, there is baking death and 
  stultifying poverty. Money – what little of it trickles in – comes from shell hunting (the collection and sale of the baked 
  exoskeletons of long-extinct sea life), salt mining (the ground is permeated with salt; it is the engine that keeps the Jefe's 
  far above living in the style to which they are accustom), and the sale of unique salted meats from the spawning grounds 
  deep within the Vale. 
   
  Travel up and down the cliffs is done on narrow stone stairs carved ages ago. The lowest of the cliffs are eighty meters 
  high and in many places, they're over two hundred. Travel from the top to the bottom is exhausting and even dangerous; a 
  misstep or slip on the vertical cliff face can mean a quick death on the jagged rocks far below. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  15
  The Inner Wasteland 
  The Inner Wasteland is not a fun place. 
  It's not just a waste of land because the 
  ground's poisonous, the rain's toxic, 
  and the radiation count out there is 
  higher than you'll find in some freaking 
  nuclear craters. No, it's wasteland 
  because the things that do live out 
  there are bad. 
   
  Most of the time, you'll want to get 
  through the Inner Wasteland part of 
  your trip as quickly as possible. Once 
  you're out of the Yard Oversight Zone, 
  your driver should keep the peddle 
  down and your gunner should keep an 
  eye on everything. Fast, furious, and 
  don't hesitate to worry about conserving 
  ammo—if you didn't bring enough, 
  you're not going to make it anyway. 
   
  So that's the end of the good advice for 
  traveling in the Inner Wasteland. But 
  someone always wants more. "The 
  things that live in the desert are bad," 
  they repeat incredulously (you know 
  who you are). "We're bad," they say 
  (yeah—you), "Bring it on!" 
   
  So I'm gonna climb up on my soapbox 
  for a second and tell you something:  
  the Inner Wasteland is dangerous. It's 
  not sexy. It's exciting the way a pack of 
  rabid wolves trying to kill you is 
  exciting. It's not fun. People will tell you 
  there's fortunes to be had not a two 
  hours drive from here. Well, I've been 
  there (that's why they pay me to write 
  this) and I've seen damn few people come back with a fortune. I've seen damn few people come back 
  at all. 
   
  So take my advice: You wanna see the Middle Ring? Fine, you can survive the Inner Wasteland the 
  way I told you a couple of paragraphs up: Drive fast, fight hard, and don't relax for a second until you're 
  through. And that goes for the first time and every time. I did the Run six times before I had any trouble, 
  and when it came, I was glad I had a round in the chamber. Death's that fast out there. But they (the 
  editors) want what comes next. They think it'll sell books. 
   
  So against my better judgment, here's the rest of it. The things you might catch a glimpse of as you go 
  by at ninety miles an hour, squinting through your gun sight. Here's the things to see and do in the Inner 
  Wasteland. 
  A convoy travels through Falstaff. Keep your weapons trained and 
  your eyes open. And beware of believing anything you hear on the 
  radio. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  16
   
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel  
  North's not a bad direction to go. At least there's water in that direction (if you don't mind boiling it), and 
  once you get where you're going, things are pretty cool up there. If you're going to be spending time in 
  the north Middle Ring, don’t forget to visit Lake Powell or Zion.  But for heaven's sake, stop there. 
  Unless you're a lunatic, you don't want to keep going and head for some nightmare Outer Wasteland 
  horror show like Salt Lake or (don't even think about it) Denver or Detroit.  
   
  But before you can check the Middle Ring, you've got to survive the Inner Wastes, and there's a few 
  things we should talk about. 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Falstaff 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: Not one of the grand ruins, but for a wreck close to home, 
  it's pretty intense. Falstaff saw a lot of violence during the last age 
  and there're a lot of things around there, asleep, laying in wait. Do 
  not be the phucker who wakes them up. See, it's not just your ass.
  It's yours and the next couple of guys who take seventeen straight, 
  trying to save time on the bypass. Once the things in Falstaff get 
  excited, it takes a few weeks for them to totally settle down. 
   
  What's in there? Some folks say it's a machine hive. There's a 
  standing bounty for anyone who can prove this by taking it out. 
  Other folks say it's just a lot of old weapons systems too stubborn 
  and stupid to admit they're obsolete. But if it were just the robots, it'd 
  be bad enough. It's not just the robots... 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Falstaff > 
  When To Go 
  Never. Ever.  Don't get off the main road in Falstaff. 
  It looks calm. Peaceful. Dead. Empty. It looks like 
  the kind of place that might have something that 
  would make you a rich man lying under a thin coat 
  of dust in some office somewhere, just for the 
  picking up. It's really full of deadly things sleeping in 
  the shadows under the off ramp, listening with one 
  cybernetic ear for a fool like yourself. Do not get off. 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Falstaff > 
  Environment 
  Very deadly. Ruins in the Middle Ring are bad 
  enough. Ruins in the Wasteland are impregnated 
  with microbes and alpha particles and heavy metals, 
  and all kinds of wonderful fun-to-eat things. Inhaling 
  the air there is bad. If you, for some reason, eat
  anything there, you might get lucky and get sick 
  immediately. Otherwise, say hello to a bouncing, 
  baby tumor or three. 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Falstaff > 
  The pipes under Falstaff 
  Falstaff has a curious underground pipe network 
  which violet reek flow through. The reek is, in 
  essence, living toxic sludge. It is mindless, liquid 
  aggression. Reek attacks in colonies that come as 
  small as your fist and as large as a swimming pool, 
  but on average, they're about the size of a small car.
   
  According to BoneYard records, the Biomass 
  Recycling and Processing Center lies somewhere 
  under the Municipal Offices. In theory, a brave and 
  capable team could fight their way through the 
  undercity and manually close the valves that spill 
  violet reek throughout the city. In theory. In practice, 
  I wouldn't go in there unless you're looking for a 
  really painful way to commit suicide. 
  Inner Wasteland > 
  Northward Travel > Falstaff 
  > Roadside Temples 
  See, I think they leave those 
  skulls out there so people like 
  you will say, "Hey, where do 
  all those skulls come from? 
  You know, maybe if I were to 
  just get off the highway and 
  poke around I might find out! 
  What a brilliant little idea I just 
  had!" I think the moment you 
  get there you notice that your 
  compass is going all screwy 
  and you notice that each of 
  the little skulls has all these 
  spindly hermitcrab-little legs 
  coming out of it and then it's 
  too damn late and the next 
  time someone comes along 
  there's another little skull... 
  Inner Wasteland > 
  Northward Travel > Falstaff 
  >  Don't Do It > Voice 
  Channels 
  Don't trust them. Whatever 
  you do, man, don't trust them. 
  On the radio, anyone with a 
  voice synthesizer and a dirty 
  mind 
  can 
  be 
  a 
  dream 
  princess 
  just 
  waiting 
  for 
  someone like you to come 
  along and rescue her. Like 
  just about everything else 
  coming out Falstaff, it's a trap 
  and a pretty obvious one. So 
  sure, have CB-sex with the 
  voices if you feel like it, but 
  don't take her up on the "let's 
  meet in person" part unless 
  you never want to be heard 
  from again...
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Falstaff > Events > 
  Spring geysers 
  They melt your flesh, but if you can stay away from them, they're 
  pretty cool. I'm not saying you should go, but... 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  17
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > The Canyon  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: You've heard about the Canyon and you want to see it. Sigh. I 
  don't blame you. I've seen it; it's worth it (and you'll only hear me say that a 
  couple of times about stuff in the Wasteland). So here's how—you don't go 
  through the wasteland. You don't get off the main highways. You go up—
  all the way up—to the Ring, and then you come down from the top. Got it? 
  Good. Now I can tell you about The Canyon. 
   
  The first guy who ever saw it (and every guy after that) knew he was on to 
  something special. It's ancient. So ancient it makes the ruins look young. 
  And it's magical in a way no one's ever been able to really capture. What 
  can you do at the Canyon? You look at it. You marvel at it. You go out 
  there and stare and go Damn, something beautiful survived after all. And 
  you think to yourself that when the ruins are finally gone, the Canyon's still 
  gonna be there. 
   
  Wow. 
   
  For a place in the Inner Waste, the Canyon's got a pretty thriving 
  population. It's close enough to the Middle Ring to make it a handy place to 
  hide out for raiders and bandits. It's also a maze of cliffs and caves – plenty 
  of places to hide, all kinds of good places to defend from. The water in the 
  river is poison sludge, but there's plenty of animals (lethal ones) that don't 
  mind drinking poison sludge, and with the right equipment and a little 
  patience (and iodine pills) you can make it into a frosty beverage that 
  agrees with you. 
   
  I suggest sightseeing with a heavily armed party in the middle of the day, 
  and I suggest a guide from one of the mutant tribes that lives in the shadow 
  of the Canyon. You can pick them up in town and for a nice fee they'll take 
  you there and back. You can find ones that'll work for free, but they'll 
  probably roll you once you're out there, and they might eat you. Some 
  mutant tribes do that. 
   
  Some folks go to The Canyon looking for stories. Over the years a lot of 
  things have happened out there. Little wars. Big ones. Fortunes were made 
  and the people carrying them lost out there. There's a forgotten history up 
  and down the Colorado River, and if you're into history (you know what I 
  mean, Prospector), the Canyon's not a bad place to go looking. Me? I just 
  recommend looking – a good, long look—to remind yourself that there's 
  something beautiful they couldn't wreck. And then get the hell out of there 
  before nightfall. 
   
  Because remember all that history I was talking about? Round sundown, it 
  comes looking for you. 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > The 
  Canyon > Culture 
  Unlike a lot of the Inner Wasteland, the 
  Canyon has an indigenous population. The 
  mutant tribes, as they call themselves, are at 
  once too warped to live in "normal" society 
  and hearty enough to make a life in the 
  inhospitable 
  mess 
  called 
  the 
  Inner 
  Wasteland. Even when you're a radiation 
  emitting, rock-eating mutant, life in the 
  Wasteland is hard. These guys are brutal by 
  necessity. But they're primal by choice. Don't 
  forget that. They might dress like primitives. 
  They might not have had formal schooling in 
  a few generations. They might not really 
  speak your language, and they might cover 
  their bodies in ritual scars and tattoos. But 
  they're not stupid. 
   
  The Mutants out here generally reject (and 
  have been rejected by) normal civilization 
  (and relatively human looking people) except 
  when it suits their purpose (trade, military 
  arrangements, etc.) These guys have been 
  excluded from a society that thinks two heads 
  is better than one, and a weird red eye is 
  pretty cool, so, yeah, you might want to visit 
  for the freak show aspect... but don't get 
  caught staring. 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > The 
  Canyon > Activities 
  Staring at the landscape's the big one. 
  Prospecting, treasure hunting, and various 
  kinds of non-intrusive profiteering are not 
  unpopular either. There used to be some kind 
  of "black water rafting" club, but I heard they 
  all got eaten by carnivorous catfish. Oh yeah, 
  and bounty hunting. Most patrols from the 
  Ring won't go in, so raiders brave enough to 
  make their home here, do. If you're brave 
  enough to go after them, there's a living to be 
  made. Most of the really successful guys I've 
  known who hunt the Canyon do it with a lot of 
  help from the Mutants. Mostly, the Mutants 
  ignore raiders who are dangerous enough to 
  fend them off and keep to themselves, but 
  they do keep track of where they are, when 
  they're moving, how many and so on. And for 
  the right price, they're almost always willing to 
  sell out a neighbor. 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > The Canyon > Environment
  Being at the edge, the Canyon's not as bad as the heartland. But 
  remember, the river that runs down the middle has been through some 
  rough territory. Don't drink the water. 
   
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  18
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > The Hanging Valley 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: I mentioned there were a couple of things worth seeing in the Middle 
  Ring? One's the Canyon. T his is the other one. They call it the Hanging Valley, also 
  the Floating Mountain. I guess those are OK names (I can't think of a better one), 
  but... damn. 
   
  Like the Canyon, the Valley's right at the edge of the Wasteland, just about as far 
  north as you can go and still be in the soup. Which is a good thing, because it 
  means you can take 17 all the way up and cut over through the Ring.  
   
  If the Canyon's a natural wonder of the world that survived the Fall of Mankind, the 
  Valley's a natural wonder that was enhanced by it. Some folks say a UFO crashed 
  here. Other say a Have took a natural work of art and in an incomprehensible act of 
  arrogance, signed it as his own. And many who have looked at it say it was touched 
  by the hand of God. 
   
  I don’t know the truth, but I can tell you what I see: a landscape so bleak and 
  beautiful, no painter's imagination could possibly evoke it. And out of these amber 
  plains come weird rock towers – spires, loops, great boulders leaning against each 
  other. And unlike the Canyon, there is no water there to coyly hint at what might 
  have carved the pressed rock. 
   
  But then I look up, and I see the rocks hanging, unsupported in the air. Great rocks. 
  Some small mountains, others boulders, or even stepping stones, hovering silently 
  above the ground. And if some rocks float, some are simply light, so that they stack, 
  like unbalanced, irregular toys, in great towers that go up, and up, and impossibly 
  up. The whole scene looks like something from a dream or a hallucination, but it's 
  real. You can walk on it. You can climb up, into the heavens, on stones that float. 
   
  There is some kind of explanation for this – science types talk about "quintessence" 
  and "a-polarity" but I won't even try. It's enough to say it's real, it's there, and it's 
  awesome. Don't miss the Valley. 
  Inner Wasteland >  Northward 
  Travel > The Hanging Valley > 
  Environment 
  This is a weird place, and floating 
  rocks are just the beginning of it. 
  I've heard folks who spend a lot of 
  time there say that it's folded, 
  whatever that means, in most 
  places and downright twisted in 
  some. People turn strange out 
  there. They have visions, or 
  maybe they just meet some really 
  strange things in the Hanging 
  Valley. I guess what I'm trying to 
  say is that it doesn't just look 
  dreamlike, it is dreamlike. And not 
  always in a good way. 
   
  They talk about the haze. About 
  three days is safe (don't spend the 
  night if you're psychic). After that, 
  you start to perceive time passing 
  differently. 
  People 
  talk 
  about 
  forgetting things or remembering 
  things 
  that 
  never 
  happened. 
  People talk about seeing time 
  slow down or speed up. And 
  people who spend even more time 
  there talk about the valley getting 
  long. That is bigger. Wider. They'll 
  tell you about places you can only 
  get to and things you can only 
  meet when "the Valley's long for 
  you." I'd call it delusions (and hell, 
  maybe it is), but there's freaking 
  floating rocks out there. 
   
  Trust me, look at the Valley. And 
  then get the hell home. 
   
  Inner Wasteland >  Northward Travel > The Hanging Valley > Activities
  There are folks who never go into the valley and folks who go there often. The 
  Congregation, for what it's worth, hates the place. Scared of it, it sounds like to me. 
  They probably know something I don't, but if it was just a matter of "it's dangerous," 
  well, there's all kinds of dangerous places out there that don't offend them. If you're 
  trying to be good friends with The Congregation, just don't bring it up and stay away. 
  I'm serious. If they find out you've even visited there's some of them that won't trust 
  you... 
   
  As for the rest of us, the folks who live within a day's travel or so from the Valley 
  (that's Middle Ring folks; if you go in from the Valley, you'll find toxic swamp and 
  some very nasty, disease-ridden turbo-rodents) have made a living out of exploiting 
  it. You can visit the little temples and listen to speeches about alien space ships or 
  Have magic, or whatever for days if you're inclined. Some of it's entertaining. Just 
  make sure you don't end up paying for any of that. And if you feel like buying a seat 
  in a "seminar" that "explains" the science there, make sure the money comes from 
  your entertainment budget. 
   
  In the Ring, you'll find all kinds of guides willing to walk you in under the pretext of a 
  bewildering array of ancient customs. Some that even predate the floating rocks.
  The Valley was a pretty weird place even way back. Most of these adventures 
  involve going out at night and watching the stars. If that turns you on, go for it. Go 
  with a well organized, respectable, well-armed group. Don't go on a "Totem Quest" 
  with some guy you met in a Middle Ring bar who offers to show you the Valley. 
  Those stories all end with someone being left in a dry riverbed with nothing but their 
  underwear and a flare gun. 
  Inner Wasteland >  Northward 
  Travel > The Hanging Valley > 
  History 
  I've heard that the Hanging Valley 
  became 
  the 
  Hanging 
  Valley 
  sometime during the Age of War. 
  This makes me think there's more 
  likelihood to the story that its 
  peculiar properties are the result 
  of something crashing there rather 
  than something the Haves did. It's 
  been blowing people's minds ever 
  since. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  19
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Inner Wasteland >  Northward Travel > The Hanging Valley > The Crater
  You can also go visit "The Crater," or, as some folks put it, "The Crash Site." The crater's big and looks (to me) like a 25 kt nuke. It's 
  also hot, very hot, like it was a dirty bomb. There are these stones around it that were put there a long time ago, and the whole thing 
  is creepy and mysterious. There's also a legend that the "early responders," the guys who went out to see the site, were executed
  by their commander (presumably they saw too much!) and are buried somewhere in the area. Now, this sounds like prospector bait, 
  but it seems there's just enough evidence that there were responders, that there was something worth investigating in the crater, 
  and so on that I'm gonna say, "If you're interested, look into it." Just remember to bring a serious rad-suit. 
  Inner Wasteland >  Northward Travel > The Hanging Valley > Pinnacle
  Oh, and if you're into climbing, you can get what I guarantee is the most surreal climbing experience this side of virtual reality. There 
  are "stepping stone" rocks that an agile and risk-inclined person can use to get up on top of those rocks. There are three "peaks" 
  and the highest one is called Pinnacle. I didn't go up there, but I'm told that there's a stone circle up there that's just like the one 
  around The Crater! 
   
  Make of that what you will. My take? The same guys who put up the first one did it again... 
  Inner Wasteland >  Northward Travel > The Hanging Valley > Activities > Vortex Tours
  The Valley has about eleven "mapped" (that is, people know where they are) active vortices. Most of them are "owned" by folks who 
  live nearby and do a reasonably good job of camping them (Water Barons, Rock Mountain merchant princes, and the like). You can 
  take a tour. These are above-ground, open-air doorways, so there's scattered, rusted junk spread around them in all directions. A
  sort of cosmic, surprisingly artistic-looking junkyard. Go with a tour, and you won’t be accused of trying to loot them; go by yourself 
  and you might get lucky. 
  Inner Wasteland >  Northward Travel > The Hanging Valley > Culture
  There are no organized, indigenous cultures that live in the Valley. There are all kinds of cults and drug cultures, and false prophets 
  and real prophets living ringside around it. There are also several powerful interests in the area who are concerned with owning the 
  Valley, controlling or at least monitoring who goes in and comes out. 
   
  There's also a lot of scientific speculation about what happened (and is clearly still going on) there. Some people think that The 
  Valley holds the keys to the secrets to our world. It's certainly spectacular enough. 
   
  All this concern and interest leads to a good deal of activity (and sometimes violence) in the region surrounding the Valley, but the 
  valley itself is preternaturally tranquil and serene.  
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  20
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Vegas, Baby 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: You could write a whole guide to Vegas. I could write a whole 
  guide to Vegas. But they offered the gig to someone else, so I'll just tell you 
  that after hundreds of years of war and collapse, Vegas still hasn't lost its 
  charm. You've heard it's not a ruin. You're right. 
   
  Technically, they say that Vegas was hit with neutron weapons, high 
  radiation bursts that killed everyone and left the buildings standing, and left 
  the whole place glowing in the dark. But then, Vegas has always glowed in 
  the dark. 
   
  What that means is that as you approach, you can see the spires and glass 
  towers, and signs and images and the iconic Welcome to Las Vegas sign, 
  rising out of the desert like some impossible Camelot dream. What that 
  means is that if you're willing to take the risks (and radiation is the least of 
  it), you can visit a city frozen in time. Empty and quiet (except for other 
  people like you and a vanishingly few weirdoes who live there), it's been hit 
  by the only preservational act of the Age of War. 
   
  And about the ghosts, there are ghosts. They might not be spirits of dead 
  people. I don't know what they are, but there are, definitely ghosts. I've 
  seen them. And yeah, you've heard right, they do want you to join them in 
  their creepy, lounge-lizard eternity. I recommend not. 
  The Vegas Ghosts 
  The Vegas Ghosts are a mystery. People have 
  reported signs of "life" in the empty, radioactive 
  Vegas-strip zone: Cards on a blackjack table. A 
  cup of coffee on a counter in a diner. Stuff like 
  that. Then, if you stay a little longer, you start 
  seeing people: A guy checking in at a hotel. A 
  figure down the street. These images dissolve if 
  you get too close, but if you're seeing them, it's 
  time to leave: People who see them vanish. Some 
  people say they try to separate groups. Others, 
  who've stuck together report a psionic assault as 
  though by a Level 3 Telepath of some power. 
  Whatever the case, if you're seeing the ghosts 
  and you lose consciousness alone … you don't 
  come back. 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Vegas, Baby > Events
  Anytime's a good time to go to Vegas if you're well armed and up, up, up 
  on your meds. I don't even really count it as Inner Wasteland (if not for the 
  ultra-rad there, it'd be a Middle Ring phenom). But there are a couple of 
  events that are especially worth your while if you're in the area. 
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Vegas, Baby > Events > The 
  Mint 4K 
  The ‘Yard sponsors the Mint 4K every third Corvember– a three hundred 
  mile roadrally right through the Inner Wasteland, up to Vegas, and back. If 
  you've ever seen it on TV, you know it's exciting (the shooting starts as 
  soon as the racers are out of the control zone and doesn't stop until 
  everyone's bleeding or someone's won). Real aficionados watch from the 
  Sands. You can't get rooms there unless you know someone (and, buddy, 
  I'm guessing you don't know anyone that well), but you can hang out in the 
  Keno lounge and watch the racers roll into town, party together during 
  "Amnesty Night at Midway," and then resume the carnage on the way 
  home. 
   
  The Mint Committee opens the hotel for that one night only, with a full staff 
  and kitchen (in the high-radiation atmosphere, they say the chicken-rama 
  actually cooks itself) and a wetbar to die for. It's a good place to watch 
  some really over-the-top action (the cars are sponsored by the big banks, 
  and are always way over-loaded with eye-catching firepower), get drunk, 
  and meet some real movers and shakers. 
   
  I recommend staying away from the journalists, however. They're just there 
  to have fun and if you're not careful, you might end up in one of their 
  stories. 
   
  Inner Wasteland > Northward Travel > Vegas, 
  Baby > Events > Nomdex 
  The other time to go would be Yarnary. That's 
  when the Strip Plaza opens its doors and the 
  lights come on in the Temple Anu for the Ritual of 
  the Naming (also known as Nomdex). A lot of 
  people think Nomdex is a Congregation ritual, but 
  it's not – it started way before the Congregation 
  existed – they were doing Nomdex, even before 
  the Fall. 
   
  The Naming was an appeal to the Haves by the 
  most wretched and oppressed of the people of the 
  Age of Wonders, namely sex workers and 
  engineers.
  They would gather together (the 
  legends say Nomdex was the only time engineers 
  had anything to do with sex. Ha. Ha.) and appeal 
  to the Haves to provide the kind of future they 
  knew they deserved. 
   
  They would Name their future, describing it in 
  colorful booths and with seminars and shows, and 
  Celebrate it with wild parties that went beyond 
  orgies into cybernetic revelries and perversions 
  that have no name. We don't have the capability 
  to party like they used to (and maybe it's a good 
  thing), and these days the ratio of sex workers to 
  engineers is a lot higher than it used to be (which 
  is probably also a good thing), but Nomdex is still 
  a sight to behold and experience to... experience. 
  Just 
  remember 
  the 
  visitor's 
  mantra: 
  rad 
  medication, 
  antibiotics 
  ... 
  rad 
  medication, 
  antibiotics ... 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  21
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel 
  If you take 10 south, you're going to the Dreaming Planes. Without the Colorado River in the north, the 
  land here is parched and dry. Desiccated. It's a lot flatter, also. Cracked mud-plains stretch on for miles. 
  Mutant cacti rise to mountain-like heights. The air shimmers with heat coming off of it (even in the early 
  evening), giving everything a harsh, liquid quality. 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > Tybalt 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: Once you've hit Tybalt, you're halfway through. Don't 
  stop to celebrate. While not as vicious and deadly as Falstaff, 
  Tybalt is a ruin you probably don't want to have anything to do 
  with. Its reputation as a good "starter" ruin for newbie prospectors 
  comes from its accessibility (it's only about an hour away, and you 
  can't miss it) and its reputation for being relatively well preserved. 
   
  You see, Tybalt saw its action – two small nuclear events – early 
  in the Age of War. Shattered and gutted, a mass pyre for its 
  inhabitants, Tybalt was abandoned in every meaningful sense. To 
  the extent that it remained in further use, it saw waves of refugees 
  passing through it, stopping long enough to get radiation sickness 
  on their journey south. There are a few minor battle fields to the 
  west and some footnotes of history taking place within Tybalt, but 
  instead of just getting wrecked or buried it mainly just got 
  evacuated. That means someone already took the good stuff. 
   
  But, of course, you never know what "the good stuff" is going to
  be a long, hard century later, and as the prospector's cliché goes 
  "There's always something left." So people keep coming back. 
  That brings other things back too. 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > 
  Tybalt > Activities > The Dome 
  If you take the Highway 10 south south-east 
  you'll run right through Tybalt. Over it, really. 
  When you're on the freeway you can stop (on 
  the road, not an exit) and take a look at the 
  dome. It's big, blue-green, and about 3/4th of it 
  survived the nuclear shelling Tybalt took. It's 
  kind of pretty. It's an old government building 
  that grew and grew when the place was 
  inhabited. 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > Tybalt > Environment 
  > Twin Craters Outlet Mall 
  The word "mall" had strong connotations to the survivors of the 
  early strikes in the Age of War. To them it a mystical place where 
  anything you wanted or needed could be had and at reasonable 
  prices. The Twin Craters Outlet Mall was therefore a monument to 
  the lengths of cruel deception man will go to in order to pull off a 
  scam. 
   
  The mall (a mass of shopping, parking, and parks) did exist and 
  even kind of survived on the edge of the primary central crater in 
  the middle of Amphitheater Road. The shop keepers had, at the 
  time, nothing to sell save rags and old cardboard boxes. But the 
  owners (and at this time there were refugees streaming through 
  Tybalt) charged admission and there are photo-records that show 
  lines stretched around the shattered streets hoping that 
  something they needed could be satisfied at Twin Craters (which 
  was neither an outlet mall nor near the other crater). 
   
  All they got was radiation sickness. That's all that was left to give 
  them for what was highly probably their last shopping spree, but 
  you can go by and look at the building. It's been shot up in the 
  decades since it and Tybalt closed business, but it still has that air 
  of hope about it somehow. That gleam that promises three floors 
  of food, fashion, and family fun—that glow that's gone now from 
  everywhere but the architecture. 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > 
  Tybalt > Utopia Farms 
  You may notice that not so far from Tybalt is the 
  one none-BoneYard exit that doesn't look so 
  bad. You'll see billboards—great big painted 
  signs if you don't know what that is—all over the 
  place (and in the 'Yard itself) for Utopia Farms. 
  They show a happy young couple dressed in 
  gray overalls standing with a hydroponics PH-
  meter on rolling green hills with a brilliant blue 
  sky and sun overhead. They promise food, 
  lodging, and medicine. Whatever you do don't 
  stop there. Even if you break down, don't walk 
  there. If you're being taken there, save a bullet 
  for yourself. I don't know how the commune 
  survives or what exactly they do (it is 
  hydroponics farming—they export food). But the 
  psychological damage I've seen from people 
  who've escaped (and there's damn few of 
  those) makes me shiver even now. Do NOT 
  stop at Utopia Farms.   
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  22
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > Carnivorous Saguaro 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS:  A lot of mutants will hurt you even if you've got 
  no intention of hurting them. Not the Carnivorous Saguaro. 
  My biology tutor taught me that billions of years ago "good 
  old fashioned" cacti developed a tough outer skin and 
  spines and thorns to protect themselves from tenacious 
  desert 
  predators 
  (desert 
  insects, 
  birds, 
  like 
  that). 
  Apparently it worked pretty well for a long time. 
   
  Not anymore. Now to protect yourself from tenacious 
  desert predators these days you need 24" maws and 
  tentacles covered with poisonous spikes. The Saguaro in 
  the South Wasteland are bad, and they will eat you and the 
  jeep you road in on. But not because they're hungry,
  they're just taking care of themselves.  
   
  And that, dear traveler, means that if you keep your 
  distance, you can take a good look at these majestic, butt-
  ugly towers of spines. 
   
  The Carnivorous Saguaro rise up to 15 meters from the 
  desert floor. Normally, when they are undisturbed, they do 
  what cacti have done for millennia—sit there and soak up 
  the bright desert sun. But should you come to close you'll 
  discover that they'd learned a few tricks since the insect / 
  bird days. The Saguaro come to life violently, lashing out 
  with blows that'll rend metal. They don't need to eat meat, 
  but a little extra fertilizer never hurt. 
   
  Just because they're not relentlessly aggressive doesn't 
  mean I'm suggesting you go and spend time out there (you 
  can see them from the highway just fine, and there are 
  plenty of things in the South Wasteland that will hunt you 
  down and kill you. But I thought I'd mention them: they're 
  interesting to think about, just in case. 
   
  And, yeah, those stories you've heard about there being 
  good prospecting in the Saguaro fields aren't entirely
  untrue. Here's the bottom line: you can never be sure what 
  the safe distance is. So people who go wandering around 
  off road long enough tend to get eaten by a cactus. This 
  leaves their stuff lying around, and if the next group comes 
  along with the right mix of wenches, grappling hooks, and 
  harpoon guns, they might be able to haul some relatively 
  undamaged junk out there. 
   
  I've seen Cactus Fishers make some pretty good hauls. I 
  also know that every time you cast a line, you're taking a 
  risk; rolling the dice. Roll long enough, and you'll end up 
  cactus food. All those successful Fishers I just told you 
  about? They've all lost a lot of friends. By all means seek 
  your fortune, man. Just not in the Inner Waste.  
   
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > Heela Bend
  Heela Bend is south-southwest. You'll go by it if you're 
  heading to the great ruins one way (8) or the other (10). 
  There's an exit off the interstate which is why anyone 
  even remembers it's there. There used to be a town, but 
  a warlord parked his mobile command center in there 
  and it was hit by a Tectonic Nuke. The whole town is 
  about 30-feet underground (sorry, they already 
  excavated the command center), and pretty well 
  preserved if you want to go digging. I don't advise it: you 
  can see from the few ruins that do stick up that there was 
  some pretty fierce fighting there (and lots of old craters 
  and unexploded ordinance). But the real kicker was that 
  some idiot flew an aircraft over it and dumped several 
  hundred gallons of a mercury-super-fluid alloy. Now it's 
  skin-toxic and it will kill you. Happy digging. 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > Flora > 
  Jumping Cholla 
  They bear some mention. They’re a white-ish cactus that 
  looks like a fuzzy collection of stubby tubes. It's actually 
  kinda cute to look at. Firstly, they leap at you if you come 
  close. It's disturbing to see. Secondly, they're covered 
  with spines. Thirdly, the spines are barbed. Fourthly, the 
  barbs are toxic. But, hey, they look cuddly! It’s like a 
  vicious poisoned teddy bear! 
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > Spotlight 
  Basin 
  If you go South and West (and there's no reason you 
  should—it's not like there's a road there, or anything), 
  and you travel at night (and there's no reason you 
  should; the whole region's under a mosquito-born plague 
  advisory and the mosquitoes are the size of your hand), 
  you'll start to see some columns of light coming up from 
  a vast, deep sinkhole travelers started calling Spotlight 
  Basin. 
   
  You might start to wonder: What is that? Who put it 
  there? What keeps the spotlights running? Man, I wish I 
  could tell you. But first off, it's a trap. There's a zone 
  there of about 3 miles by three miles where not a lot 
  moves. That means some of those rocks are raider 
  vehicles covered with cameo-tarpS. And if you don't 
  belong to their club you'll be attacked. 
   
  But when you get closer to the lights, something 
  happens. They say there are big toothy mouths under 
  the sand big enough to eat a bike whole and strong 
  enough (and sharp enough) to disable a car with the first 
  bite. The few people I've talked to who are incurably 
  curious and somehow have managed to survive that 
  usually terminal condition say they've seen the light 
  attracting other things, "natural things," to their doom. 
  The mindless things in the Wasteland apparently head in 
  there on a regular basis. Try to be smarter than that. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  23
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > The Lady of the Toxic Lakes 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: People talk about "The Toxic Lakes." That doesn't even 
  sound very nice, but the truth is even uglier. Out beyond everything 
  else, so far west you're just about in the red desert, there's an 
  above-ground chemical weapons dump. Someone left hundreds of 
  thousands of gallons of what they call "non-aerosolized" chem in a 
  series of bedrock quarries and channels. 
   
  The Toxic Lakes. 
   
  For ten to fifteen miles, in all directions the air stinks and the land is 
  barren dust. Not even weeds grow. At about six miles, you start to 
  see a heavy haze at the pit of the valley and breathing the air will kill 
  you. At about two miles, exposed skin is a lethal hazard. The wire 
  and warning signs start about here, and so do the bones. A lot of 
  people have died out here over the years. 
   
  If you're nuts, and you keep going, you start to see the "canisters":”
  Rusted oil-drums piled high by the hundreds, gutted military-looking 
  trucks, and other signs of some kind of massive operation. A handful 
  of sand from this range can kill everyone unprotected in the room. 
  It's a good place to pick up souvenirs for someone you hate. 
   
  Eventually you reach the lakes. They steam and boil, but the gas is, 
  thankfully, lighter than air. The heavy 'fog' that hangs over them 
  never leaves the valley. I guess whoever put it there was thoughtful 
  that way. If you've gone that far, you've probably come to see "the 
  Lady" so I might as well explain. 
   
  They say something lives in the lake. Several somethings, actually.
  The Lady's Daughters. I, personally, have been close enough to see 
  the mists, and that's it. I haven't seen the Daughters, and the 
  pictures I saw could have been whipped up on someone's 
  computer. But for what it's worth, they're fat, translucent, amphibian 
  things with tails and fluted openings and webbed forelegs. They're 
  ugly and vicious, and they breathe nerve gas. 
   
  The Daughters are probably real. The Lady—I have no idea. But the 
  story keeps the Daughter's fed with flesh and the ground littered 
  with fresh bones. 
   
  They say that the poison was put there for a reason – not to kill
  something, but to keep something that would not die dead. That it 
  was put there by men who had looked upon an abomination and 
  could only cover it with a worse sin. They say that under that lake of 
  death lies a golden sarcophagus and within it lies the body of an 
  Abnegated King. I won't go into what that is; if you don't know, good.
   
  But suffice it to say that people couldn't live well enough alone, and 
  the folks pouring the nerve gas knew it. As sure as they could bury 
  something they wanted gone for a million million years, some crazy 
  phuker would come along and dig it up. So they didn't just leave the 
  poison. They left a guardian. They left the Lady. 
   
  If I had to guess, I'd say that The Lady is a really big freaking 
  Dragon-Lizard-Frog thing. And maybe she is. But those who claim to 
  have seen her, say she's beautiful. Whatever that means. 
   
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > 
  The Lady of the Toxic Lakes > The Story
  The story doesn't stop there. It just takes a 
  break. And it starts up a few hundred years 
  later, when the Age of War was drawing to 
  a close, and Marmoch The Deposed was 
  exiled from the BoneYard, never to return. 
  Marmoch's greed and tyranny and his 
  apocalyptic visions (the ‘Yard remolded as 
  a great, dead Mausoleum dedicated to him) 
  are all too well recorded. His exile from the 
  Yard is as well, but his fate after he 
  disappeared 
  on 
  foot 
  into 
  the 
  Inner 
  Wasteland is, officially, undetermined. 
   
  Those who believe the Story of the Lake 
  believe he came here. They say that he 
  walked through the blistering heat, heading 
  toward where he knew he would find 
  vengeance. And in vengeance, glory. And 
  in glory, victory. And in victory, death for 
  everyone … or simply death. He came to 
  the lake, seeking the deeply legendary 
  casket that (supposedly) lies beneath it. 
  Even in those long ago days, the legends 
  of the Abnegated Kings were myths, but 
  desperate men have always clung to myth 
  and Marmoch would have been deeply and 
  truly desperate. So maybe it's true. 
   
  And if it's true he traveled to the lake, then 
  maybe it is also true that he entered its 
  waters, unafraid of the boiling death there, 
  because he held in his hand RapStar IV, 
  the blade forged in the Age of Wonders by 
  the Great Studios. RapStar IV – the sword 
  that, if you believe the legends, could call 
  down orbital strikes from its own satellite 
  network, and cast a protective field around 
  its owner so that no bullet or beam might 
  harm him – kept him safe from the poison, 
  but not from what the waters hid. 
   
  The legend says that the Lady, protecting 
  the buried tomb, rose above him and a 
  great battle ensued, with Marmoch calling 
  down fire from the heavens and the Lady 
  rending the energies that fell about him like 
  a waterfall of light. And the Legend says 
  that when the battle was done, Marmoch 
  was gone and the Great Blade was 
  embedded in the Lady's neck where it 
  remains today. 
   
  So that is why people visit the Lake, 
  Children. To catch the monster. To retrieve 
  the blade. Happy hunting. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  24
  Inner Wasteland > Southward Travel > The Weeping Hill (The 
  Observatory) 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: When people wax pretentious about the Haves they like to say, "Everything they did was art." Then they talk 
  about the domes. If you ask someone who knows (for this book, I did), they'll tell you otherwise. Everything they did 
  was elegant. Everything they did was beautiful. Everything they did was evocative. But art? No. If you asked a Have
  about art, he'd tell you that all that beauty and awe and magnificence came as second-nature to them. They did it 
  casually, without even thinking about it. 
   
  When it came time to do art, they wrote on the sky. 
   
  The Haves had a few art forms. One was microscopic and biological; they designed viruses that were beautiful in their 
  terrifying lethality. The other was "astronomy" or "star naming." 
   
  This might all be a joke they played on us, but if you believe it, then their greatest form of art was to co-opt the 
  heavens, themselves. They would look up into the night sky and invent constellations in what they saw there. And in 
  the course of a year, as those constellations rolled past, they would tell epic stories. 
   
  These stories were not written down, of course. There was no need for it. After all, they were there. Up there. Visible 
  for everyone to look at. You see, the Have’s conceit was that they were not making shit up, or even reading the stars, 
  but actually writing with them. Creating and imposing meaning on the cosmos's random slate. 
   
  Astronomy was a performance art, and was held in outdoor theaters on high, desolate mountains. These theaters 
  were called observatories and one that's still around (that you could visit if you were a complete phucking idiot) is 
  south of the Yard on the way out of the Inner Wasteland. Place called Kitt Peak, in the Tohono O'odham Reservation 
  in the Sonoran Desert. 
  Inner Wasteland > South > The Weeping Hill (The Observatory) > Standup Astronomy (The Audience)
  During the Age of Wonders, Kitt Peak was off limits to most normal humans. The Astronomy that was performed there 
  was for Haves only, and it was said to be so glorious and incandescent that normal mortals couldn't get it. Apparently 
  a bunch of bewildered, (or worse, snickering) humans in the back gallery ruined the experience for everyone.  
   
  But the Haves were a reserved lot, and so to express their emotion and gratitude, they had servants built – the things 
  they called "spirits." It is said that there are five spirits-in-residence there and that their names are Mayall, Burrel-
  Schmidt, McMath-Pierce, Wiyn, and Sara. These were called, collectively, The Audience. 
   
  The Audience, the ancient stories say, were built for the purpose of appreciation. They were designed to absorb and 
  understand the beauty of the performances they bore witness to. They were to express the emotion that the Haves 
  would or could not. 
   
  It is said that for hundreds of years they did. It is said that they filled the bleak, dark mountaintop with laughter, with 
  applause, with cheers, and with gasps of awe at the cosmic audacity they observed. It is said that they were gifted 
  with an impossibly deep understanding of physics and space, that they might better understand how the Haves were 
  using the universe as their canvas. 
   
  The stories go on like this, but they always end with the Last Performance. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  25
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel 
  Let's face it – there's no  good way to go East through the Wasteland. As a result, the Eastern Ring is 
  one of the most isolated, savage parts of the Known World. If you're going to the Ring, then go North or 
  South and then take a clock turn. But every year dozens of fools, profiteers, and extreme prospectors 
  disappear into the Eastern Wasteland, so let's talk about it. 
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel > Route 88 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Inner Wasteland > South > The Weeping Hill (The Observatory) > Standup Astronomy > The Last Performance
  There were many observatories where astronomy was practiced, but the one here, near us, was the greatest and 
  every summer, during the darkest months, the greatest Have Astronomers would gather and imprint their stories upon 
  the cosmos. They all told different stories, but the best (the truest, they said) was the one that stuck. 
   
  Year after year, they re-wrote the heavens (of course the stars never moved, the fabric of the void never shifted—it 
  would be more correct to say they re-wrote the meaning of the Heavens), until one year a Have who had never 
  performed before came to the Observatory and imposed upon the stars, a tale of such power and depth and truth and 
  beauty that the Audience, for the first time ever, was moved to tears. And try as they might, they could not stop crying. 
   
  For the Audience was made defenseless against beauty and in the presence of such magnificent beauty, they were 
  rent asunder at their souls. And so they cried. And they wailed. And every moment that they look up, into the heavens, 
  they see that story play out again, year after year. And every moment of it tears at them. Every tick of every clock 
  exposes them to the unbearable magnificence of the Have's story. 
   
  Today, you can still hear them wail. As you approach, you hear soft moans, and as you get closer, you'll hear five 
  distinct voices, trapped under a vast hammer of artwork inscribed on the heavens. It is said that the spirits have great 
  knowledge of the world and of the heavens. Of the past and the future. It is said that if there were a way to rescue 
  them that they might be grateful that whoever should do so would be made a God by them. That might be true, but no 
  one who has ever approached that lonely hilltop has ever come back, so perhaps we'll never know. 
  PRECIS: It's probably the saddest stretch of 
  self repairing highway the Haves built and its 
  one of the most twisted. Furthermore, it lays 
  at "ground level" which, like a lot of the area, 
  is all the hell up and down heading east by 
  northeast. If you must go east, take the 
  Highway J Overarch, not Route 88. 
   
  But a lot of people do take Route 88 or some 
  of its tributaries and go winding into the hills. 
  A lot of these are people on the run from the 
  authorities.  If you are taking the "scenic 
  route" keep away from the low areas: That 
  fog there is the misty top of a pool of poison,
  and those rocks look melted because they 
  are, by industrial acids. On the other hand,
  there are … well, a few places to stop. 
   
  And by stop, I mean if you have a really 
  serious medical emergency and your vehicle 
  is damaged and your radio is out, and your 
  spare is out too. Yeah, there are roads to 
  drive around on out there and a little bit of 
  life still clinging to them, but don't go thinking 
  it's all that different from the rest of the 
  mess. 
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel > Route 88 > Jake’s Corner
  There's a bend in the road north of '88 with a big … well … shelf of rock 
  near it. Sometime during the Age of War someone decided it was a good 
  place to move a cache of weapons to, so they dug a hole in the side of 
  the shelf. Today the weapons are gone, but Jake's still remains. Jake's. 
  Last I was there, has been taken over by Misuses Jake, a mutant that 
  looks like a cross between a giant octopus and a grizzly bear. The "café" 
  is half cave, half diner. It can be a rough place (and the owner eats rock 
  and doesn't mind breathing poisons so she doesn't care—check the 
  atmosphere before you get out). If there's not a toxin advisory, the food is 
  actually pretty good. Just don't ask what's in it. I'm not joking. 
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel > The Dagger Mirage
  Out there in the middle of the rocky wilderness is something that creates 
  images. You can see them from the J-Overarch. You can even get out 
  there if you really try, but why bother? You don't come back. The images 
  look real though; you can see them with field glasses. You'll see a raised 
  sign with these golden arches on it (One Trillion Served) and see old-
  style refueling stations and water using Laundromats and what used to be 
  called "24-7 Convenience Stores." You'll see all of that out there—a little 
  stretch of lit up town from the Information Age. Something out there 
  remembers it, something near the rock formation Dagger. There are no 
  roads that go there, so you have to off-road it, and then, I think, hike. So if 
  you're really curious you can go and try to find out what makes the image 
  of the way the world was sometimes appear out there. But not if you want 
  to live. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  26
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel > The Manufacturing Ruins 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: There used to be a lot of heavy industry, the "milling" of the 
  Wonders for the whole western American seaboard in this area. It 
  was bombed and sunk and otherwise destroyed during the Age of 
  War But the remnants are still there, scattered amongst the hills, 
  some of them apparently have forgotten that they've been destroyed.
  This is where the Red Desert begins if you head east. It's a ruddy 
  colored sand that smells of rust and carries tetanus.  It's the ground 
  up bones of the final gasp of the Industrial Age. 
  Inner 
  Wasteland 
  > 
  Eastward 
  Travel 
  > 
  Manufacturing Ruins >The Depot(s) 
  In the Red Desert, tantalizingly close to the ‘Yard, 
  they say, there is a massive train yard – the 
  legendary Depot, where the robotic rails systems
  that connected the Factory complexes came 
  together, a "nerve-center" or brain of the entire 
  sprawling system. And in this Depot, there would 
  be hundreds of interweaving lines getting denser 
  and denser – more tightly woven until they meet in 
  a vast, enclosed hall. The Hall is described as a 
  pyramid, hollow on the inside, with arches and 
  buttresses and ramparts built for giants. Inside, 
  there would be great metal servants capable of 
  moving a rail car, or an entire train itself, from one 
  "wheel" to another, a switching hub on a god-like 
  scale.  
    
  If such a place exists (and so many people say it 
  must) what would it hold? Certainly fascinating 
  remains of the old rail systems. Offices of the rail 
  administration (where the mainframe computers 
  that ran the factory system no doubt lie). Power 
  floors – halls full of dynamos and nuclear pods. 
  And what else? Warehouses? Underground store-
  rooms filled with undelivered goods? Defense 
  systems (now dormant) loaded with Age of War 
  ordinance? 
   
  The stories become even more enticing when one 
  can find so many maps to tell you exactly where 
  the Depot is! Why it's right there, just beyond the 
  end of 60... or over there, near the ringward 
  edge... or. The fact is the maps disagree, and the 
  fact is the Depot, as it exists in legend, is a myth. 
   
  There was no central switching hub. The "factory 
  system" was, in fact, a network of smaller systems, 
  each serviced by its own, specialized rail network. 
  Most of the largest switching hubs were destroyed 
  (if you're looking for them, follow your Geiger 
  counter to the big, glowing crater). Some train 
  yards do exist, and in one respect, the legends are
  right: they are impressive and evocative. If the 
  factories are spare, utilitarian bunkers, the train 
  yards have an artistic flourish in their architecture. 
  They are, after a way, things of beauty, even in 
  ruin. 
   
  They're also deadly. The materials transported to 
  and from the factories were very toxic and often 
  radioactive. The yards were permeated with 
  poisons long before the Bone Yard began its own
  assembly and finishing work. Even in the Age of 
  Wonders, the Inner Wasteland was a toxic swamp. 
  And it's only gotten worse. The depots are heavily 
  fortified installations (like the Factories but a lot 
  more so), and the ones that are left tend to be 
  haunted by the things that live in the Wasteland.  
   
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel >Manufacturing Ruins >  Big 
  Iron (Factory Ruins) 
  As you drive along highway 60, you see rusted towers, lattice grates, 
  and cement stacks rising out of the corrosion-tinted gravel. These 
  scattered ruins are not the kind of cities you'd find in the north or 
  south. In the Red Desert (and this goes for the wasteland as well as 
  the ring), the ruins tend to be "complexes," "compounds," or 
  "factories." In the previous ages (the Age of Wonders and the Age of 
  War), the vast eastern desert was the compliment to the Distro-
  Points of the west. It was where the modular components and raw 
  materials from the points were assembled, molded, forged, or 
  otherwise finished into complex goods. The Red Desert was a 
  massive industrial park and a distribution point (There are still the 
  remains of a rail system and a monorail system long gone). 
   
  I believe that the Kingdom of IZ – that far-away, pseudo-mythical 
  place beyond the Outer Wastes was once the same kind of thing on 
  an even grander scale. We know that a lot of what the Distro-Point 
  gives us isn't ready for use. It almost must have been. 
   
  So what's out there? Factory after factory,
  and these were 
  mechanized factories: great concrete halls filled with robots working 
  24/7. There were rail hubs above and below ground to move the 
  goods from one center to another. In the Age of Wonders, the 
  factories put together the complex and customized consumer goods 
  that fed and drove the ravenous retail culture. In the Age of War, the 
  factories made weapons.  
   
  The Factory Complexes were strategic sites, very valuable and in the 
  end, all too vulnerable. The wars that raged in the Red Desert left 
  very few of them standing. Those that you see are only a fraction of 
  what was once there, and it must have been astounding. 
   
  The majority of these structures are simply empty and badly 
  damaged. Empty of anything valuable, that is. Assume that, in the 
  Inner Wasteland, any structure you see with a roof is full of monsters. 
  Inside, there's a barrenness and a cathedral-like quiet with evocative 
  fixtures and markings to suggest the floor plan of the past age (An 
  auto lathe went here. A smelting laser, there. And a conveyor belt ran 
  down the middle...) 
   
  Prospectors keep going in there. Why? Because every so often 
  someone comes out with a cache of weapons, or bolts of unrefined
  neonium, or a cluster of super servers. But that doesn't happen 
  much, and it won't happen to you. Most of what people find in the 
  rusted plains of the Inner Wasteland are what they find pretty much 
  everywhere else in the Inner Wasteland: a fast death if they're lucky 
  and a slow one if they're not.  
   
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  27
   
   
   
   
   
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel > Manufacturing Ruins > 
  Oxygen Mountain 
  Oxygen Mountain is still on the air. You can navigate by its radio 
  beacon if you're so inclined, and if you get close enough to it, you 
  can see the great columns from its exhaust vents. It looks like a 
  metal anthill rising out of the sand, with antenna and smokestacks 
  and fluted vents.  
   
  Around it, for more than a mile in all directions, is a great "ticking 
  battlefield" of blasted robots piled upon each other. The Mountain is 
  probably the only remaining foundry still capable of making the great 
  War Machines that defined battle in the Red Desert during the Age of 
  War. It is, I guess you'd say, "The Winner." After all, it's still there. Its 
  cause (whatever that was), its owner (the Warlord who ran it), and 
  even its history are forgotten to the outside world, but the foundry 
  continues to run and the computer general inside, continues to 
  pursue its original goals (defend the complex, capture ground). If 
  Oxygen Mountain were still receiving shipments of supplies and raw 
  materials, it would probably still be sending waves of robot soldiers 
  to capture the Bone Yard. Then the Hierarchy would see to it that it 
  was taken care of "once and for all." 
   
  Instead, the Mountain is quiet and waiting. One day its "standing 
  army" (the defense force that surrounds it) will fail, and we'll be able 
  to look inside, a "living museum" from the Age of War. Until then, 
  stay away. It's efficient and deadly. 
  Inner Wasteland > Eastward Travel > Manufacturing Ruins > The Ticking Fields
  The "famous" Ticking Field (the one you've heard of) is right at the end of Highway 60. And that one isn't so dangerous. It's 
  seen a lot of visitors over the years; it's been, largely, pacified. The Ticking Fields are so named because of the sounds the 
  half-buried war machines make as they try to train their weapons on you. Click-clickety-click. They tick. 
   
  They're old battlefields, see. Places where machine armies clashed and suffered mutual annihilation. In many cases, 
  computer generals sent wave after wave of robot soldiers directly from the factories that made them to the battlefield where 
  they fell. In cases where the opposing forces were evenly matched, the wars were fought at a devastating stand-still for 
  months or even decades. Someone I talked to who knows about these things says there are probably millions of robot 
  carcasses down in the Red Fields. They might be shattered, they might be crippled, but they're still fighting. They're still 
  tracking targets, and they're still sending “fire-now” signals to their cannons, which ran out of ammo a century ago. 
   
  The "ticking" isn't loud; you can hardly hear it over the wind, an ultra-soft whisper of gears slipping or locking ratchets slowly 
  raising the barrel of a cannon. It's kind of creepy, but I'll admit it – it's kind of cool. 
  Inner 
  Wasteland 
  > 
  Eastward 
  Travel 
  > 
  Manufacturing Ruins > Salvage in the Ticking 
  Fields 
  If the prospector in you is screaming "Robot 
  brains! Power supplies! Arms and armor!", hold on 
  to your horses. The robot soldiers that were 
  thrown away by the hundreds of thousands were 
  not executive system toys, they were a lot more 
  primitive and that cuts down on the retail value. 
  Largely mechanical, they have simple computer 
  brains that were directed by strategic computer 
  minds far away. 
   
  And the power supplies they have are mostly old 
  chemical batteries, long run-down, supplemented 
  by geomagnetic filters and solar receptors that 
  drink in just enough ambient power to track their 
  weapons and trigger their clockwork gears. There 
  are components worth salvaging out there, but 
  they're few and vanishing far between. 
   
  And remember this: If there are things to find 
  there, then you're not in an ancient, long defunct 
  battlefield, but in an open plain surrounded by 
  almost-working robots designed to target and kill 
  you. That's a completely different story. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  28
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > Neurosphex 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: I hate the Neurosphex; everyone hates the Neurosphex. 
  Nobody ever does anything about them because when it comes down to 
  it, wiping them off the face of the earth is just too darn hard, and the truth 
  is, they keep to themselves. You can find them if you look for them, 
  though – head west down 10—and start looking for exits. 
   
  Eventually you'll find one that looks like a salvage picker's dream—down 
  at the bottom, partly under some toxic fluid that might be water, are a 
  bunch of submerged cars. That's when you've found it (okay, numerically 
  it's near 98, there, are you happy?). 
   
  Just incase you didn't know, the Nurosphex are organized intelligent 
  mutations that look a bit like wasps given a bright red and black armored 
  coat. They're about 4-6 feet in length—and yes, they have a dangerous 
  stinger. 
   
  They're brain-harvesters. If they get you, they pry your brain out of your 
  skull and drop its quivering gray mass into something called a Think 
  Tank. Think Tanks were created in the Age of Wonders as a way for a 
  mind to transcend the body: a fluid bath that provides oxygen and 
  whatever nutrients your noodle needs—and symbiotic cerebral parasites 
  that devote themselves to neuron repair. 
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > 
  Neurosphex >The Brain Gardens 
  The Neurosphex are symbiotic to a 
  machine—that 
  means 
  the 
  machine 
  needs them (they keep it running) and 
  they need the machine. It's located in a 
  bunker of some sort that's mostly 
  underground and is hardened as hell 
  anyway. The 'sphex are smart, use 
  conventional weapons, and have several 
  vehicular grade turrets around it. What's 
  down inside is the Brain Garden.  
   
  The larval form of the Neurosphex feeds 
  on 
  the 
  telepathic 
  transmissions 
  of 
  dreaming 
  minds—and 
  that's 
  what 
  mummy and daddy bring them: minds … 
  your minds if you're not careful. 
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > Neurosphex >The Asylum
  The Think Tank is a powerful piece of psychoactive machinery. It's telepathic, very powerful, and multi-function. It isn't 
  artificially intelligent though—but the Neurosphex supply the … hmm … brain power? In that department anyway. 
   
  They also do some trade in telepathic cracking for special clients (you'd better be a special client if you plan to visit the 
  hive and return) and psychoactive repair.  
   
  They can be quite cordial in a militaristic "we-eat-your-kind" sort of way. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  29
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > The Reservoir  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: You take 93 West and you'll see something incredible. It's old and 
  it's big. It's a giant reservoir that was built centuries ago (and reinforced in 
  the Age of Wonders—which is good because it was hit with sub-nuclear 
  bombardment: you can still see the craters in its face and a big ominous 
  crack down the middle). 
   
  It's over seven hundred feet high and over twelve hundred feet wide—and 
  that's a lot of wall. It used to be some kind of hydro-electric power-plant. 
  Now the water that flows through it is so full of industrial toxins you could 
  almost just use it for rocket fuel. 
   
  The dam is an armory—a Hierarchy base and research station—it's also an 
  executive retreat: a little home away from home in the Inner Wasteland. You 
  can see the heli-ports there—and it's, maybe, the one place that air-traffic 
  still runs pretty regularly. 
   
  If you come in driving, don't bring any trouble: there's a 12" thick steel gate, 
  a mine field and several energy-mortars that create a land-air overkill zone. 
  Gate crashing is not a good idea. 
   
  Inside there's parking and even executive accommodations (150c per 
  night)—although there's a "holding facility" for emergency cases or refugees 
  if you come in "on fire." 
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > The Reservoir >Lake Mead > 
  Water Refineries 
  Above the dam is a 250 square mile lake—Lake Mead. It's home to a 
  variety of life-forms indigenous to the Inner Wasteland, some of them quite 
  big and vicious under the surface of the water—but the Hierarchy has 
  invested money in Water Refineries that can draw clean drinkable H2O from 
  the waters.  So if you take the path around you'll see the Water Depots. 
   
  These are rough little towns with high electric fences and automated gun-
  towers that keep the Inner Wasteland at bay—you can find Video Poker 
  Saloons, some of the dirtiest, weirdest Simu-Sex booths (as well as the real 
  thing) and a variety of Chemo-Dens that cater to the disease of your choice. 
  Being outside the 'Yard, some of these places have reputations for being 
  places where business goes down—the kind of business one doesn't do in 
  the BoneYard. That's a sort of business to be wary of, whatever form it 
  takes.
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > 
  The Reservoir >Lake Mead > Gambling 
  Palace 
  The last casinos didn't die with Vegas—not 
  entirely. There's plenty of gambling all over 
  the place—but the Texas
  is, without 
  question, the most prestigious place to 
  play in the known world. It's a river boat 
  that makes a nightly trek out into Lake 
  Mead. Its underside is covered with 
  electrical rails that create a death-field in 
  the water around it if anything gets too 
  close. It has a glass bottom and search-
  lights on the underside: you can look out 
  into the murky green depths and see the 
  silhouettes of monsters in the darkness … 
  and you can play with your life: literally. 
   
  The owners: a private concern in the 'Yard, 
  will let you bet your life for 250c plus or 
  minus various valuation factors. It works 
  like this: cash yourself in (you have to pass 
  a medical screening) and then you have to 
  buy yourself out. They'll give you a collar 
  with microbes in it that'll kill you if you 
  leave the boat prematurely.  
   
  If they like the look of you—and you lose 
  your money, you work for them. If not, well, 
  they'll make a statement with you (and 
  some of the patrons find this entertaining—
  I suggest you don't even go and look. If 
  you do, don't try to excuse it as curiosity—
  you're going to see a person get 
  executed). Don't think they won't. No one 
  is more heartless than a casino: it's the 
  humanitarian equivalent of absolute zero. 
  Inner Wasteland > Westward Travel > The Reservoir >The Talon Angles
  Sometime in the past someone came along and created the Talon Angles. They're indigenous to the place—humanoid 
  mutations that breed true with cybernetics. They've got wings and bronze skin. The look, I'm told, is "Olympian." You can see 
  them flying in the spray of the sluice gates of the dam.  
   
  They're beautiful. They live up in the rocks and have clearance to come and go at all levels of the dam itself. The Hierarchy 
  guards don't shoot them down or mess with them—and if you do they'll shoot you down. 
   
  It's not clear why: The Angles (with bird talons for feet) are scary in a fight (they've got heavy armor, they're very strong, 
  they're fast, they fly, and they have bladed claws)—but it's less than fear and more than tradition. 
   
  There are those who swear the Talon Angles (who, it seems, have nothing to do with the trials of man) have a racial memory 
  of the mechanics of the dam and a psionic resonance in tune with it: they know if it is damaged and how to repair it. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  30
   
  The Outer Wasteland 
  It's the last trip a lot of people ever take—it's one with no clear destination. Think you're going to the 
  Kingdom of IZ? Think again—yes, there are caravans—but we have no statistics at all on how many 
  people from there never make it here. We know (as well as we can) that about sixty percent of the 
  people from here don't show up there. But if you want to see a Have dome or you want to visit some of 
  the really ancient, really mysterious places left on the planet (no doubt looking for somewhat less 
  mysterious treasure) here's a short-list of places to go, things to see, and ways to die. Don't say I didn't 
  warn you. 
  Outer Wasteland > North > Northern Reach 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: Start at Denver and head straight up north. There 
  are some good roads (part of the notorious Denver Death 
  Trap, I guess) and some pretty scenery. The desert, as you go 
  north, gives way to forest—forest that's tangled and dark and 
  looks like it's a about 1000 years old. It can't be—I know—but 
  if you ever look for yourself, try to tell me I'm wrong. About 30 
  miles out of Denver up the highway is the Calanan Outpost—
  one of the few places in the Outer Wasteland that's been 
  beating the odds. It's run by a family of semi-anthropomorphic 
  panda bears (and they look fuzzy but they're tough as hell, 
  trust me on this) and it's a friendly enough place if you can get 
  there (and aren't bringing trouble). And that's where my tale 
  stops. That's as far as I went. Everything else is conjecture. 
  Outer Wasteland > North > Northern Reach > The 
  Abyss 
  If you're north of Denver there's something else you can 
  find up that way. It's called the Abyss and it's a pit so deep 
  no one knows how deep—and that's not for trying: I've 
  seen transcript of a radio beacon dropped into it. It fell 
  over six thousand miles before it stopped broadcasting. 
  Do some math: either the signals were interfered with—or 
  that's deeper than the planet. I'm not sure which answer I 
  prefer. Surrounding the Abyss is some of the strangest 
  terrain going too: massive collections of geysers, rock 
  formations that look like they might've come from the 
  moon. 
  Outer Wasteland > North > Northern Reach > The Machine 
  Herds  
  Out there in the vast empty stretches as far north as anyone 
  has ever gone there are reports of machines—big beetle like 
  things sort of like the heavily armed Crawler death machines 
  that inhabit the ruins of cities—but these are different. For one 
  thing, they seem to migrate (as far as anyone can tell) for 
  another, they're not reportedly hostile (as opposed to the 
  Crawlers which are unrelentingly hostile), finally, they're 
  bigger. The large ones are over 300 yards long and over 50 
  yards high. But there are smaller ones too. It is speculated that 
  the "breed" and the smaller ones are "young.". The herd is 
  seen in the plains areas up north, sometimes found in the 
  massive craters. There are people who believe they are 
  reclamation machines—designed by the Haves to repair 
  environmental damage.  
  Outer Wasteland > North > Northern Reach > 
  Mountain of Faces 
  They say that further up, into those woods, you can go—
  and keep going—and find something amazing. A massive 
  mountain carved with about 12 giant human faces. 
  Apparently at one point it was a solemn monument—but 
  then, later, there was a game show or something and they 
  just started putting anyone up there. But, I'm told, it hasn't 
  lost its charm: from the massive pile of rubble at the 
  bottom to the moss-covered heads at the top it's a place to 
  go and look—a place of power. If you're up that way, 
  check it out. Take some pictures. I'd like to see 'em. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  31
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Pharms 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: South—far south, at the rim of the Outer Wasteland 
  and on the edge of a savage, ultra-toxic jungle are three 
  massive chemical refineries. Still functioning from the Age of 
  Wonders, the Pharms produce drugs, chemicals, and medicines 
  for the world. They produce Dead-Line, an ultra-addictive 
  amphetamine that rulers use to keep shock-troops in line. They 
  produce hallucinogens and happy-pills and smart antibiotics and 
  other things. The people are exotic looking and quiet—extremely 
  quiet, their lives governed by psycho-chemicals that make them 
  docile and productive and utterly the same. 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Pharms > the Dead Line 
  Trade 
  The Pharm's "greatest gift" to the world is not medicine—but a 
  narcotic: Dead-Line. It is a powerful stimulant, it is fiercely 
  addictive, and if you withdraw, you die. The warlords of the
  Onion Empires, the shock troops of the Pharms and the 
  Congregation, and the external militia of the Kingdom of IZ all 
  use Dead-Line to keep their troops loyal and controllable. It is 
  illegal to sell or distribute in all of those lands (to keep deserters 
  from finding another source)—and the Hierarchy (the only major 
  power not to use Dead-Line) executes traffickers it catches. 
   
  Dead-Line comes pre-packaged in plastic syringes called sub-
  derms. A lot of other things do too, but Dead-Line has a unique 
  black plastic packaging with a red ring around the top. 
   
  Shock-troops out in the desert, glassy-eyed and "jumped up" on 
  Dead-Line are a cliché of the Onion Empires. Troops on the line
  trend towards things like needless massacres and brave but 
  suicidal assaults. 
   
  There is some question as to why the Hierarchy doesn't use the 
  drug. The most obvious answer is that they don't want to be 
  dependant on the Pharms to keep their fighting force going—but 
  analysis of what their spokesmen have said also lends credence 
  to the view that they find it somewhat repulsive. 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Pharms > The Overlords
  The rulers—those who dominate the plants and govern the 
  perfectly organized societies laid out around them, are carefully 
  designed mutations. Obese yet healthy and strong (due to an 
  intravenous diet of chemical cocktails that warp the genome and 
  run their hearts and lungs on synthetic fuels) they are urbane, 
  intelligent (it is said they take intellect enhancers so as to have 
  minds like computer databanks) and utterly inhuman. Their wet, 
  broad smiles show teeth which appear normal but house internal 
  injection devices—they command—or even dispatch their 
  servants with a bite. Their cruelty—when necessary to make a 
  point to an observer—or simply for their own pleasure, is 
  legendary. 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Pharms > The 
  Rappaccini Jungle 
  South of the Pharms is jungle—toxic jungle. They call 
  it a Rappaccini Ecology—flower's perfume is a nerve 
  gas. An insects sting a military grade toxin, the entire 
  ecosystem aggressively hostile. People have made it 
  into the jungle (they say there are cities back there, 
  all overgrown with deadly plants)—and there are 
  stranger stories still. But no one has lasted long 
  enough to be sure. 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Pharms > The 
  Pyramid 
  As you head south, towards the bottom of the world 
  you will approach a six-story, silver pyramid, 
  subdivided into six levels. Around it, breaking 
  through the grass are computer-controlled guns in 
  hardened concrete bunkers. Along each silver side of
  the building are engraved names of chemicals—long 
  names, nonsensical to almost all those who see 
  them. At the bottom are the chemicals, the Wonder-
  drugs, that the rulers of the Pharm's claim will serve 
  the individual's physiological needs. At the top are 
  drugs 
  that 
  simulate 
  spiritual 
  peace 
  and 
  enlightenment.  
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Pharms > The 
  Gulf 
  The largest known body of water is off the shore of 
  the Pharms. It's a great gray ocean deemed too 
  dangerous to navigate (there are aquatic hunter killer 
  robots and sharks the size of old naval destroyers, 
  for starters)—but it's there—there's still water left. 
  Judging from a globe either it shouldn't be there, it's 
  walled 
  in—or 
  something 
  is 
  really 
  strange 
  (considering the Pacific Ocean, or lack thereof). 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  32
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Church of the Congregation 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  PRECIS: South of the 'Yard, down the Have-built highway is a white 
  line that stretches up into the sky. Impossibly tall, it simply shimmers 
  there for miles and then starts to grow thicker—then the dunes of 
  garbage and broken down vehicles begin to pile up. Radio 
  broadcasters transmit sermons over all frequencies and masses of 
  refugees and supplicants and pilgrims traveling by foot start to appear. 
  In the midst of wretched refugee camps (surrounded with chain-link 
  fences, guard towers with massive halogen search lamps, and 
  electrified razor-wire) are pylons from which The Word thunders for the 
  faithful to hear. And all the while the white strip in the sky gets thicker 
  and wider. 
   
  It is called The Needle and it is an elevator—a space elevator—to 
  Heaven (or more appropriately the HeavenSide orbital habitat). It is 
  built of the same indestructible egg-shell white material as the Have 
  domes—but unlike them, it is open. Surrounding the "space port" is a 
  circular walled city—the Holy City of the Congregation. Beyond those 
  walls are the filthy disease and garbage ridden masses that come to 
  ask for blessing, forgiveness, or hope. 
   
  The chief tenant of the Congregation is that the Haves left us because 
  we were bad—that we were cast out like unruly sons and daughters 
  and must atone for our wicked ways. The Congregation is powerful and 
  enjoys support amongst the superstitious and the desperate. Even in 
  the BoneYard the Congregation enjoys considerable political power. 
  And their access to the secrets of the Heavenside station, perhaps the 
  only remaining Have habitat that is actually opened gives them 
  bargaining tools in the political machinations in which they engage. 
   
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Church of 
  the Congregation > Hell TV 
  Whatever else is up there on Heavenside, 
  there's a heck of a broadcaster. The 
  Congregation gets world-wide TV coverage: 
  and their most popular show is trips through 
  computer generated hells (which await those 
  who displease the Haves). Spit bodies writhing 
  in electric fire (don’t ask us—that's what it 
  looks like) and the stereophonic pandemonium 
  of the damned are popular shows both within 
  the 'Yard and outside. 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Church of 
  the Congregation > Pilgrimage and Tithe 
  One way you can convince the Haves you are 
  ready for their return is to make a pilgrimage 
  to the Holy city. Hundreds die along the way. 
  More die from dysentery and pneumonia upon 
  arrival—but a steady stream, bearing all their 
  passions flows constantly (that's why the city 
  is surrounded by garbage) into the holding 
  pens. 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Church of 
  the Congregation > The Lottery 
  And once it a while the Pilgrimage "pays off." 
  Each year, a drawing of 10 of the supplicants 
  is chosen to ascend—they are taken to a 
  platform 
  and 
  give 
  their 
  thanks 
  to 
  the
  wondrousness of the Haves—and then they 
  enter the needle—and are carried up—and 
  up—and up. They are never seen nor heard 
  from again. 
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Church of 
  the Congregation > The Book 
  The Tract—the text of the beliefs of the 
  Congregation is ubiquitous throughout the 
  remaining world. It is sold by missionaries and 
  updated constantly. In some stops it is a crime
  not to hold the latest book (and you never 
  have 
  the 
  most 
  recent)—of 
  course 
  the 
  roadblock will be happy to sell you one—for a 
  reasonable price. 
   
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Church of the Congregation > The 
  Tower of Song 
  About 150 miles East of the Needle, in the desert, is a crater. In that 
  crater is a piece of one of the orbital that crashed to earth some 95 
  years ago. No one is certain of what event led to the ejection of a piece 
  of the station—or if it’s landing spot was random or not—but it's there—
  and it "sings"—babbling in the telepathic spectrum. You can hear it for 
  miles. 
   
  People come from the Ring and the Yard to do penance there (it's a 
  pilgrimage) and to visit the outpost around it (which has enough 
  inequity that you can go back and do double penance after spending a 
  night there). It's a rough outpost and the pilgrims that aren’t well 
  defended get robbed regularly. But if you're at the Tower, you can listen 
  to the "music"—the almost incomprehensible babble of voices from its 
  broadcast—and you can imagine that maybe its saying something to 
  you. It's weird, I can tell you that. Or you can make the big donation 
  that "assures you a place" when the Haves return—and the monks will 
  take you down to the still burning reactor chamber and open the three 
  seals—and let you look in … and blind you. 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  33
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Outer Wasteland > East > The Onion Empires and the Kingdom of IZ 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Outer Wasteland > South > The Church of the Congregation > The Needle
  The space elevator is called The Needle by almost everyone—and from a distance it looks like a bright white, 
  perfectly straight needle that pierces the sky. The Hierarchy, the Pharms, even the Kingdom of IZ would love to 
  capture it—to see what wonders lie in the floating habitat to which it connects. Perhaps the doors at the top of the 
  Needle are sealed—but no body thinks so—the Congregation certainly alludes to the wonders that will be bestowed 
  upon everyone when we are good enough—and the Haves bless us with their return. 
   
  Although the Congregation has a very elite fighting force, it is small and close enough to the 'Yard that the Hierarchy 
  could take it in a fight—but that has not happened (and probably never will): the Three Protocols ensure it. 
   
  The First Protocol: If attacked—if an army approaches the outer wall, the first protocol will be enacted: the senior 
  members of the church will enter The Needle and the Church's army will attempt to hold the wall. 
   
  The Second Protocol: If the wall is breached, from within The Needle, the doors (un-openable, and unbreakable) 
  will be shut and the elders will ascend, rising up to Heavenside station. 
   
  The Third Protocol: If the army does not fully surrender the lead technician will generate a random locking code for 
  the doors and throw a switch: the control chambers will be flooded with a persistent, deadly nerve agent—forever 
  sealing it from the inside. No one will ever use it again 
  PRECIS: The Kingdom of IZ rests on 
  the far outer edge of the Outer 
  Wasteland. East of IZ, there is toxic 
  industrial cityscape and poisoned 
  fields. The air is deadly. The ground is 
  radioactive, 
  and 
  ancient 
  battle 
  machines 
  still 
  prowl 
  the 
  land. 
  Furthermore, even the most dedicated 
  expeditions have traveled into that 
  wasteland and found … nothing. 
  Maps tell of an ocean still further 
  East—but it has never been reached. 
   
  The Kingdom of IZ revolves around 
  20th and 21st century technology—
  massive industrial plants—hundreds 
  of them, still run (their power sources 
  unknown—but more and more stop 
  every year—and they're closer to 
  running out of people than plants). 
  Were it not for a working Distro-Point 
  in the 'Yard, IZ would be the 
  predominant military power on earth. 
   
  But they are not. It is said the people 
  worship clocks: time-clocks by which 
  they live and regulate their lives. 
  Whether this is true or not, observers 
  have reported that as a society they 
  are slowly "winding down." There are 
  more deaths and fewer births each 
  year. Although military machinery is 
  produced (mostly sold to the Onion 
  Empires for food—the Kingdom of IZ 
  cannot grow its own in the deep rusty 
  desert and the fields poisoned by 
  industry).  
  Outer Wasteland > East > The Kingdom of IZ > the Hourglasses
  Travelers have reported that within the city there is a hall of 24 pillars, 
  appearing in the forms of hourglasses. They are filled with a thick green 
  liquid and are fully twice the size of a man. Indeed, within the chambers 
  are men—curled into fetal positions, neither moving nor breathing—
  suspended in the solution. The liquid drains—slowly—over decades. At 
  some point the men will be exposed and, perhaps, awakened. Each of 
  the men appear as idealized "gods" and each bears a number—
  appearing as a birthmark, rising naturally from the flesh. Some say that 
  when the last member of the kingdom dies off, the beings in the glasses 
  will be born—and mankind will fall before them; but nothing is really 
  known for sure. 
  Outer Wasteland > East > The Kingdom of IZ > the Expiration 
  Soldiers 
  The Kingdom of IZ has little by way of Have era technology save what it 
  salvages (mostly in the form of ancient machines) and what it trades for 
  (it trades with the Salt and Pepper complexes, deep-wasteland 
  prospectors who bring back relics, and The Hierarchy and the Pharms). 
  However, it has developed its own peculiar breed of Cyborgs. The 
  Expiration Soldiers are thought by some to be phantoms—but others 
  swear they are all too real. They are hooded figures (wearing dark brown 
  desert robes that hide their face). Beneath the cloth they are only barely
  human. A cybernetic tank keeps the heart and lungs and brain alive—but 
  beyond that they are robots—and not the relatively clean robots the 
  Haves would have built. They are black-metal clawed nightmares—
  pulley systems, gears, pumps and articulated motors replace bone, 
  muscle, and tendons. Their faces are misshapen sheets of glass with red 
  sensor-lasers beneath. Their voice a raspy hiss through a "throat-
  mounted" speaker. They are said to shamble as they move—but move 
  they do—tirelessly, needing neither food nor water, but extracting 
  nutrients from air and heat. They are assassins with built in poisoned 
  weapons, expertly aimed firearms, and possessors of exotic combat 
  techniques. Their job is to kill those who rebel against the Time Clocks—
  and to "collect" the lives of those whose time has "expired." 
  
  Copyright © Marco Chacon, 2003. Permission granted to copy for personal use 
   
  34
   
   
   
   
   
  Outer Wasteland > West > The Pacific Desert and the Shelf 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Outer Wasteland > East > The Onion Empires
  Head east, across red desert and into the Outer Wasteland and you'll find, amongst the dunes and the ruins, and the 
  other things a series of roads that fork—and lead to great—miles in radius cement pipes that rise several hundred 
  yards out of the sand. These pipes are marked with fading painted numbers and symbols and their purpose remains 
  a mystery. Built on a scale that is unimaginable they must be Have-era constructs—but the technology is not utra-
  modern. In any event, within their walls are cement basins with tubes that run to seemingly infinite water wells. Within 
  these massive walls, cities have been built (soil imported from the greener lands centuries ago, terraced fortresses 
  built up the walls, and entryways carved or blasted in the outer ring. 
   
  PRECIS: West is, mostly, the Grand Ruins—there are two: LA to Tijuana 
  and San Francisco. Both of these are massive, quiet, and deadly. Mostly 
  “still standing” you can see them from a great distance—like concrete-gray 
  mountain ranges against the western sky. 
   
  But you can go past them and down the Shelf—off into the Pacific Desert. 
  There’s a pretty big drop—and down there—down there it gets weird fast—
  and hot—and dry—and mean. Real mean. But you can get around there—
  and visit the nomads on the other side of the city. Many of them have never 
  even heard of the BoneYard—a lot of them speak a language we don’t know 
  much about. They have their own legends about what happened to the 
  world. You can get there if you’re dedicated. A lot of people don’t come 
  Outer Wasteland > West > The Yiggs
  Up at the northern edge of the San 
  Francisco Grand Ruins are the Yiggs. 
  They're trees some 300 stories tall. I've 
  seen them—hell, you can see them 
  pretty easily if you know what to look 
  for—it looks like a nice green cloud of 
  smoke—but when you click in on the 
  field glasses you suddenly see … trees. 
  These things are big—I was told by a 
  psychic that in the end days the trees 
  got their wishes granted and their 
  wishes were to be huge—and they are. 
  Incredibly. And they're not happy with 
  us. That's what the psychic told me—
  and I believe her. 
   
  In the Age of War there were columns 
  of armor and powered infantry that 
  were moved through there. They 
  stopped doing that: the hardware 
  wasn't coming back out. I've been to 
  the outskirts of the trees (they come up 
  right out of the city ruins—so getting 
  there is a trick and half already—and I 
  can tell you it feels eerie. 
   
  And I've seen tapes—old Age of War 
  tapes. I've seen arms, still twitching, 
  holding laser rifles sticking right out of 
  the massive sides of the trees. I've 
  seen a tape—slowed down so you 
  could see it—of an Armored Personnel 
  Carrier getting sucked under—into the 
  earth—solid earth that a tank had just 
  rolled over so fast you'd blink and miss 
  it. There's an intellect there—and 
  secrets 
  amongst 
  those 
  mammoth 
  trees—no one I've ever met has 
  journeyed far inside. 
  Outer Wasteland > West > The University 
  Smack in the middle of the Grand Ruins is one last gasp of an earlier age. 
  The University with the most powerful Research and Development Artilect 
  (artificial intelligence) left on the planet is an enclave—armed, with walls, 
  surrounded by rubble and death—that recalls an earlier time. If you can get 
  there (armed convoys run like clockwork buy only two or three times a 
  year)—or even get in—you get to see a “campus” that real students lived at 
  centuries ago. They have deep reservoirs—and the campus is green. There 
  are classes—people working to try to reclaim the Breakthrough—to 
  understand the mysteries of time and space and history and everything. 
   
  To most people who even know about it, the kids there—taken at a young 
  age—there are teams who travel around with computerized testing kits—it’s 
  just a magnificently unfair lottery. To people in power it’s (mostly) seen as a 
  waste of money and resources. 
   
  But the Hierarchy—the family that controls the BoneYard—the most 
  powerful force on earth—and perhaps one of the most ruthless—keeps 
  writing the checks—keeps sending the trucks—because who knows, some 
  day it might pay off. 
   
  If you can get out there on official business, take a look around. Inside the 
  walls you’d never know the world ended. It’s a nice, safe, quiet little world 
  where they don’t allow weapons or narcotics or foolin’ around if you aren’t “of 
  age” and married. It’s weird. And just having been there hurts sometimes—
  knowing that once that was normal—and now it’s almost all gone. 
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Have-Not/Have-Not Your Travel Guide to the Known World.pdf