“Oh. A spaceship!”
“No. It’s the Space Needle. We must be in old Toronoto.”
The world was covered in nothing but sand. It’s sad but it was true. It was caused by countless of wars and the rise and fall of civilization trying to survive in the world wide wasteland. There were other scientific issues, but including them in this small segment would turn into a three volume book, that would be bad. So to sum up, it was a world with limited survivors.
The only way to traverse through such desolate terrain were through tanks. No, it was not a euphemism for giant steam-punk vessels floating on steam and magnets.Literally tanks. Tanks recovered from war museums, military camps, or even reoverd from their burials in lost wars. The atmosphere was messed up, so anyting that used to fly would fall flat. The only thing to travel in thekiler desert, were these old gas running on gasoline, kerosene, or even solar power. There was the occasaionl mobile fortresses, but that’s not important.
The key thing to take note was a little half-rusted tank, sitting in the middle of a half buried ruins. It was big, bigger than any stereotypical ruins left behind by an ancient civilization in fantasy books. Rather, people would know this city well if there hadn’t been the countless wars or societal collapses.
There wasn’t any labels or grand signs to welcome anyone to tell them where they are, but the defining feature was this big*ss space needle that was half buried int the sea of sand. It it wasn't replicating the leaning Tower of Piza, or deep under the sand, it would have been standing at a proud height of 533.3 meters (plus/minus 2). Now, it was on an awkward 25 degree angle, and only 233.3 of its original length was exposed under the sun. So sad.
The only thing to stand witness of this former glory, was that half-rusted tank. A certain Renault FT Light Tank.
“So, it is a spacecraft? In the shape of a sewing needle? Is it designed for advanced aerodynamics and to overcome the Schroedinger’s Fourth Law? Hmm, maybe it allows the vessel to bypass the 3rd and 11th Dimension to dive into the Silicon Valley Wormhole. Yes, it should be the case.”
“Capricorn, shut up. You’re just talking random nonsense. 90% of your knowledge is made up and/or not remotely related to astrophysics. This is the observational tower and a landmark of the old city of Toronto before That World Collapse started. It’s not a vehicle meant for exploring the final frontier and discovering random planets of intelligent lfe. Have you forgetten, not even a plane can fly properly in this god-forsaken heat.”
“………….. So is it still space worthy?”
“What part of my explanation did you fall asleep on?”
"I think I last heard 'talking nonsense'."
"F**K YOU!"
"Oh! B-Boss Lady, I-I know we're lonely and stuff, b-but I never though you were desperate to-to take me as your outlet! I-I don't have the same wrench hidden between my thights like the other people."
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"........... D*mn it Capricorn, why am I so tired."
Sitting in the body of the little tank, were two of its owners. One was a Commander, who sat in the cramped section where she would handle its revolving turret (a revolution of all future tanks). Then there was the driver who was also cramped inside the rider seat. For some reason, she wasn’t wearing anything, possibly due to the intense heat. The naked driver let out a sigh while tilting her head. It looked like as if she was examining a portrait painted by Van Goh or Michaelangelo. That, or she was the living example of Bathsheba in the Bath as painted by Rembrandt in 1654.
“Where are the hyperdrive engines? Also, the proportions are rather awkward don’t you think? This lack of respect for structural integrity in zero gravity vacuum toally throws off the necessary interstellar calculations to initiate the Zohar Warp Theory.”
“Capricorn. You're IQ is next to zero gravity, so please stop mumbling nonsense. My head hurts and we have no money to buy even the cheapest of painkillers. It’s just a super tall tower. You go up an elevator and you can see the city landscape in a 360 degree. If you’re daring, you can stand outside on the deck and pretend you’re about to re-enact that scene in an old movie where the hero jumps down on a rappel with flashy spy music to hack a computer without touching the floor... Mein gott, the migraine.”
“……….. It’s so thin. We’re it’s Anti-Matter Particle cannons installed? Surely they need something to kick alien *ss, right? That or mug them of their Woolongs or Space Dollars.”
“Are you listening to me!?”
The Commander of the Renault FT Tank frowned. Unlike her companion (not really) she was of course clothed like a proper girl. Sporting a sporty ponytail…… she would have a habit of cracking her knuckles as if she was preparing to strangle someone for exercise. It could explain the firm muscles in her slender arms for honing her craft. Maybe it was to save energy, or the fact that the seats in the small tank was close together like a stair-step, she kicked the driver in the back of the head with her heel.
“No one wil give you the Nobel Prize for pretending to be someone you’re not. That invention was long achieved even before the concept of Nobel Prize ever existed!”
“…What year was that? 1914?”
“No. That’s the First World War.”
“I thought it was Operation Desert Storm.”
“HOW THE H*LL DID YOU PASS HIGHSCHOOL!?”
“…What’s highschool?”
As if doing so will make herself feel better (if not calmer) the commander kicked the driver in the back of the head again.
“Gukk!? ...C-Captain! We’ve detected an anomaly on the radars! E-enemy fighters coming our way!”
“…Capricorn. I’m not in the mood to listen to your random movie quotes of the day. Please just park the tank near a convenience store. I'm in dire need to buy some Tylenol... or Arsenic for you. I heard girls in the 19th century used it as cosmetic cream to make their skin glow... no joke. Try eating it to increase effectiveness by--"
“N-no! I’m serious! Incoming enemy fire from the North East! South West, West North! ”
“…We don’t have a radar. So stop joking.”
Quick note, the Renault FT Tank was considered to be a tank that revolutionized all the other tanks that thrived from the end of World War 1 to World War 2 and beyond. It’s key defining feature was the revolutionary revolving gun turret, much like the CN Tower to Toronto.
Despite that, it’s very old. So it’s all gears and pistons. There was nothing as fancy as automated combat systems like a Phalanx Close-In-Weapon System or Tomahawk Anti-Ship Missile. However, maybe it was being used to riding in the cramped tank might be the root of this but… any incoming fire could be felt by the vibrations through the metal hull.
That, or vibrations caused by explosive shells raining down around them at the last second.
*BTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
“GOD-D*MN IT CAPRICORN! WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY WE’RE BEING SHOT AT BY OTHER TANKS!”
“…Cough, cough. Boss Lady. I already told you.”
“IN F**KING KLINGON!?”
“…What’s that?”
“JUST - DRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!”
What happened next came in so much detail that would be better portrayed as a sene in an action movie. However, it remained clear that the moral of the story: the CN Tower was an effective jump ramp.
“LUDICROUS SPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!”
“CAPRICORN I’M SO GOING TO KILL YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!”
To bad the movie ended with a big flop in an old box office. Literally.