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    She Moved In Worlds - Part 2
    She Moved In Worlds - Part 2
    She Moved In Worlds - Part 2
    Ebook137 pages1 hour

    She Moved In Worlds - Part 2

    By JP Mihok

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Descending into the mist and dark, Nancy acquires unexpected companionship and their travails take a couple of unexpected turns. Part Two of an adventure in verse. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJP Mihok
    Release dateNov 18, 2016
    ISBN9780994030825
    She Moved In Worlds - Part 2

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      Book preview

      She Moved In Worlds - Part 2 - JP Mihok

      She Moved In Worlds

      ––––––––

      PART TWO

      By J.Pierre Mihok

      Table of Contents

      Title Page

      Emerge, in clouds of heady scent | Jungle - PM

      CHAPTER TWELVE | But you will look sweet upon the seat | Daisy, Daisy - popular song

      Chapter Thirteen | O creatures, let my people go! | Jungle,PM

      Chapter Fourteen | While the wind sings, o drearily sings! | -A Winter's Song, FitzGerald

      Chapter Fifteen | That island fortress, drowned like any shell | 'Merlin'-Jay Macpherson

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen | I heard him then, for I had just | Completed my design | The White Knight, Alice, Lewis Carroll

      Chapter Eighteen | down in the cold of the sunless mould | {The Ploughman- Ethelwyn Wetherald}

      Chapter Nineteen | For, up an' down an' round, said 'e, goes all appointed things . | Chalmers, Roundabouts and Swings.

      Chapter Twenty

      Emerge, in clouds of heady scent

      Jungle - PM

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      ––––––––

      But you will look sweet upon the seat

      Daisy, Daisy - popular song

      The car seat enveloped her contours.

      She rolled down the windows on both the doors.

      The engine murmured, and Nigel purred.

      The robots stood by without a word.

      She waved in silence; worked gears, and whirled

      the wheel, towards the wide, waiting world.

      The Hotel vanished from sight behind,

      was lost in the forest's gloomy murk.

      The road unwound and the motor whined.

      She let her reflexes do the work

      of driving—feeling so unconfined

      within her car.

      Her hair rode wind.

      Her fingers traveled through Nigel's fur.

      On red rust scattered where once cars were,

      they slashed through switchbacks, deft, with ease,

      as hints of villages fled in trees.

      They skittered a stony ridge along,

      and then descended hard upon

      a winding way which wandered down.

      Now, nearer yet, yet still so far,

      there fled the wreckage of a town.

      She brushed at locks of straying hair

      and turned her music-player down.

      They seemed, these tunes, her ears to jar:

      all new, with unfamiliar sound.

      She listened, watching whizzing ground

      and shadows flowing by in streams,

      expecting somehow to come 'round

      upon a field of War Machines—

      or other sights she'd never dreamed,

      too strange for any human brain—

      the Mechanic she had brought in

      revealed when it was home again.

      Those piles of auto-wrecks had been

      around a sort of fusion-plant

      which, run amok, attracted in

      old iron, ere its power went.

      Its nuclear heart was still extant,

      but had been tripped from overload;

      its magnet's labours all were spent

      in drawing wreckage from the road.

      The service robot had revealed

      its tale of travels, and displayed

      the great immobile battlefields

      of war-machines from nether days.

      These, all unstirred, impasséd, held

      each other in a deadly grip,

      by rules immutable, compelled

      to never let each other slip.

      Their tarnished forms, with claws, with whips,

      with grapples, insect-segments, arms,

      with jaws with diamond-studded lips,

      —Medusa forms of Psyche's alarms—

      in deadlock stood....

      The robot, there,

      in search of sealed computer-packs,

      had stumbled on one half-aware

      machine, and strove to bring it back.

      To take it home, it had to fix

      enough to make the motors go;

      but such machines were full of tricks,

      and back-ups, booby-traps... and so

      whatever was repaired, impelled

      more battle-routines into play;

      and would, as each attack was quelled

      bring other powers to the fray.

      The robot, once it had repaired

      itself from each machine-attack,

      and knowing nothing of despair,

      would try again to bring it back.

      And on and on the story went;

      repair, attack, in endless round;

      the robot, senseless to predict,

      had been into the cycle bound

      as in a squirrel-cage confined.

      Well, lucky it was not destroyed.

      They had been fortunate to find

      a swift return by easy roads.

      And Nancy turned this in her mind:

      the glittered aircraft, thus, could be

      war-robots, which were tasked to find

      their foes by leaked emissions. She

      was most disturbed to recognize -

      not that these things could still exist,

      but - someone kept them in the skies.

      What sort of folk did things like this?

      And, what was worse, the Physicist

      had fixed her radio for her.

      Why had he? Did he know? She wished

      she'd talked to him a little more.

      Yet other worries, worried her...

      The Hotel printed her a list

      of places to be wary near,

      the homesites of the battle-beasts...

      She had resolved to do her best

      to find a way to end their war,

      or turn out what was there, at least—

      she'd thought that settled long before.

      Still musing on such gloomy things,

      she hit a curve; emerged on streets

      arranged incongruously neat

      against a background of decay.

      A circling bird, on moveless wings,

      was all that stirred in all this scene

      of rolling estates, mowed and green,

      whose buildings had collapsed away.

      The winding road, which curved and strayed,

      into a tighter network knit.

      Her route led through the heart of it:

      on flawless pave, through tear-downs ranged

      in crazed disintegrations strange.

      A glittering phalanx of machines

      in unison swung into view.

      Their gleaming ranks all passed between

      the hulking derelicts; pursued

      unerring intricacies true.

      She swerved into another street.

      Two robots peeled off in pursuit.

      With no inclination to meet

      such of the town, she sped up through it.

      The trees blurred by her, faster, faster.

      The buildings tilted up and past her.

      She fled 'til certain none could find her:

      swiftly left the town behind her.

      ––––––––

      Days passed days, as merged together

      sunny haze and stormy weather.

      At many a roadside she took breather,

      glade or gloomy shelter either;

      Her car unceasing pulled beneath her

      ways nor wide nor narrow neither,

      with never a side road to divide

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