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STARMAN

Issue #8: Storm Force

Arc II: Fire Opal

Written by Fortanono
Edited by VoidKiller826
<< Previous | Next >> (coming February)
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Part 1: Jennifer Knight
”Now!” Ted barks through my earphone. I dash between the rooftops of a series of old brick buildings and look down. Courtney and Jack are shooting blasts of energy through the dense pale-green fog that fills the streets around us; Rick is looking around, clearly bored but unable to actually do anything. Darrell is above the arena, making sure everything goes smoothly, and Aunt Sandra is somewhere around here but I have no actual idea where. I jump down, twisting my dial to the “Bubble” mode as I land. Quickly, I summon a purple-black bubble around me, trapping just a bit of the Mist’s fog in it. I’ve successfully separated part of the Mist from the rest of him, but I’ll have to be quick about what comes next.
The small tendril of fog in my bubble seems to realize what’s happening as I dart as far as I can down the street. I see it bend and contract, diving into my throat. I start choking; it becomes harder and harder to breathe, but I just have to go a bit further out. Eventually, as I begin to get light-headed, I release the bubble and switch my dial to “Panic.” A burst of energy surrounds me, knocking the fog away from me and out of my mouth. I cough a bit before straightening myself and speaking into my microphone.
”He’s gonna try to reassemble himself,” I say. ”Darrell, it’s your move.”
”Right,” Darrell says. I can’t see him above the battlefield, but I immediately notice his presence as dozens of tiny blue-and-red drones drift down from the sky, each one with fans. They surround the Mist’s missing piece, keeping him in one place, still separate from the cloud that Jack, Rick, and Courtney are dealing with.
”Fantastic,” Ted radios in. ”Mist’s primary goal will always be to keep himself together. It’s a sort of side-effect to his powers. Keep him there, and the rest of him’ll follow eventually, no matter how hard he resists.”
It takes a few seconds, but the giant cloud of fog slowly starts drifting to meet up with the smaller one. Courtney and Jack rush over to the area with the fans, both concentrating fire on the one position where they’re merging. I turn my dial to “Energy Blast” and add my own energy to the mixture. Slowly but surely, the green fog begins to get thicker, and soon enough, the figure of the Mist begins to take hold.
“I was hoping you guys still thought I was in Gotham,” he mutters in a raspy voice. I stare at the face of the villain that Ted had been so worried about, remembering how we had prepared for this battle for over a month before he felt comfortable sending us out. He looks old, weak; in his eyes, I see a man who knows he’s been defeated, a man who may have once been a titan but whom old age has gotten to. I smile as Aunt Sandra decloaks and cuffs him with a pair of power-dampening handcuffs. Nearby, a police car pulled up and Clarence, one of the older O’Dare brothers, escorts him away.
“I will be back,” he hisses. “You should all know that.”
I know that it’s still possible for him to come back once again, that he had even come back when the world thought he was dead. There is a sincere promise in his words. But even so, seeing the frail figure of Opal City’s legendary villain once again defeated, I smile.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Rick, Darrell, Courtney, and I re-enter Ted’s workshop once again; Jack and Sandra split from us and went back to the Stargazer. As we descend the stairs, I could tell that Ted was over the moon.
“Wow,” he says to himself. “Just… wow. I’ll be entirely honest; I was certain we would have had to retreat at some point during that battle. I did not expect this to be one and done.”
“Well,” Rick chuckles, “I think the guy’s just a fucking pansy. No offense; I get why you couldn’t beat him or whatever, but like, the dude tries to make us go to Gotham so he didn’t have to deal with us. Again, no offense; I’m sure you were, like, a great hero in your time, of course.”
Ted laughs heartily. “None taken. I’m sure that as he’s gotten older, he’s had to rely more on cheap parlor tricks like the one in Gotham. I, for one, definitely knows how the aging process can take a toll on your abilities. I’m just… so happy that bastard is behind bars again.”
Courtney nods. “Here here.”
“Anyway,” Ted says, “I’d like to let you know that our little merry band of heroes is going to get a fifth member fairly soon.” His tone sours as he continues to speak. “My sister… she’s a vapid idiot, so you can understand that we haven’t talked in a long time, but her son started developing metahuman powers. And he started going out as a hero. She told me that she couldn’t stop him, so she wants him to at least have more support.”
“Ah, great,” Rick laughs. “Because I was just thinking that we didn’t have enough people who sucked at being heroes on this squad.”
“Rick,” Ted glares. “Please cool your behavior. I’ve seen what you’re able to do on the field and I must say: it’s pretty bad too.”
The door to the workshop slides open once again, and a new kid walks down the stairs. He’s got dark brown hair that’s just barely covering his eyes and is wearing a grey T-shirt and jeans. He waves to us as he walks down the stairs to meet with us.
“Hi,” he says. “Name’s Aaron. Aaron Munro. I’ll be working with you guys for a while.”
“He’s been helping people in his hometown of Liberty Hill as the great ‘Iron Munro’ for the past few months now,” Ted explains. “Unfortunately, Aaron, when you decided to do that, you perhaps made the worst mistake you could have made in this line of work. You made your identity public. Tell me, why’d you do that.”
Aaron sighed. “I… I just thought it was a small town, and I figured we all knew each other already, and… I guess I wanted to be recognized for my deeds or something.”
“I’m sure you’ll feel sufficiently recognized when your mother gets a bullet in her skull,” Ted says bluntly. “Let’s be clear: I hate the lady, but not that much. Come with me.” Ted beckons Aaron to the far corner of the workshop.
I stare blankly at what’s happening in front of me; Ted’s a hardass, but this is… a bit much even for him. Clearly, this was about more than just business. I had heard small things about Ted’s sister before but never met her or her family. Whatever happened to separate them had to have been a big deal.
Ted shows Aaron to a costume on a stand in the corner; it consists of a brown-and-grey bulletproof bodysuit with metal accents and a full face-mask made entirely of metal. “This,” Ted says, “is going to be the new you. I’m calling it: ‘Metalsmith.’”
“Th-thanks,” he says. He looks frustrated; I can tell that he’s not happy to be here, but he’s holding it all in. “I--I just have to say that… this really isn’t my style. I’m trying to go for a friendly hometown hero vibe, and having my whole face covered up… It just doesn’t seem right.”
Ted grimaces. “You did the hometown hero thing, and you failed. You showed your face to everyone. Metalsmith isn’t the friendliest guy around, but he’s safe and so is his family. If you wanna talk about alterations, feel free to tell me. But keep in mind that I have to work to preserve your safety first.”
Aaron nods. “Fine,” he says.
I look around the room; all of my teammates are either looking at the spectacle in front of them, or looking at their phones. Starved of anything else to look at, I turn to look at Rick’s phone. He’s responding to a text message from someone named Luisa; I think she’s a girl in his class or something. It doesn’t quite look like a message about normal things teenagers talk about, though.
hey, so I have a confession to make, the message begins. John and Maya and i, we knew about you being hourman and everything before we met you. we’re still your friends, we always were, but we also want to get your help with something we’re working on. a project that involves metahumans, basically. let us know if you’re interested.
I immediately turn away from the message on the phone. Clearly, this is something I’m not supposed to know about, but now that I do, I can’t stop thinking about it. Some other people want Rick to help them with… something related to his powers. It sounds really shady; should I tell Ted about this? It could be a conflict of interest, whatever it is. On the other hand, Ted doesn’t seem like the most level-headed person to deal with this. Who knows; maybe it’s for some sort of superhero stunt show or something really cool, and I’d be denying him access to that.
Whatever. It’s not my problem right now. It was never meant for me.
“Hey,” Aaron says. “You here? You listening?”
I look up; Aaron is standing right in front of me, his hand outstretched. “Sorry,” I say, shaking his hand. “My name’s Jennifer. It’s nice to meet you.”
-=-=-=-= 🌟 =-=-=-=-
Part 2: Sandra Knight
“Well, that could’ve gone a lot worse,” I say, currently on the back of Jack’s Star-Cycle. Jack apparently figured out that he could make his motorcycle fly if he used his Cosmic Rod, which is both hilarious and something that neither Ted nor David would ever begin to consider trying out. Which is why Jack is so great; he’s questioning everything, figuring out new ways of doing things, and making a motorcycle fly.
Feeling the wind rush against my face, I’m taken immediately back to my rebellious college days and my early stints as the Phantom Lady. It’s nice, almost nostalgic, but still different enough. We come to a descent in the back of the Stargazer, and Jack locks up his motorcycle.
Hope comes out the back door to greet us. “Glad you could make it,” she says. “Cutting it a little close, though, I gotta say. The meeting’s in less than 5 minutes.”
Oh, right. The meeting with our potential client. The Mist tends to give a lot of people tunnel-vision; I had completely forgotten about this.
“Sorry about that,” Jack chuckles. “You know how it is, going out, saving the day. Maybe someday, you should give it a--” He cuts himself off as I glare at him. His expression turns more serious. “I’m so sorry,” he finally says. “I forgot about what happened with you and the Mist.”
Hope sighs. “It’s fine,” she says. “We can deal with this another time. He’s behind bars yet again; he can’t hurt anyone else. That’s the best news anyone could hope for.”
We walk into the office; Jack takes a seat, ready for the meeting. “So, this new client. What’s the deal with them, again? Missing kid? Brother’s a supervillain?”
“She has some information on who might have been behind the prison break a few months ago,” I say.
“Okay, wow,” Jack responds. “That’s sort of a big deal.”
We hear the door swing open. A young woman with light brown skin and shoulder-length black hair walks in. She’s wearing a sleeveless white shirt and black winter coat; on her left hand is a tattoo of the Superman “S” sigil. “Look who’s here,” Jack smiles. “Glad you could make it.”
The woman sits down in front of Jack, putting her coat on the back of the chair. “Yeah, well, me too,” she sighs. “Listen, if you have any witness protection-type deals or whatever, can you hook me up with one of them? I’m honestly… I’m honestly terrified right now.”
I nod. “Well, there are a few options there. My cousin can easily create a fake ID and get you out of the city without anyone noticing. If you want to go through a more legitimate program, Hope here has contacts with the police who can get you into proper witness protection.”
“I’ll take the first one,” she says. She reaches out and shakes Jack’s hand. “Name’s Sarah. I’ve been working for Maxie Zayas for the last few months; I needed work, and he seemed really nice at first.”
Maxie Zayas. That’s going to be a tough one. A big-time club owner and crime boss, following in the footsteps of his father; I was personally involved in putting his old man behind bars. All of Opal City’s heroes know about him, but we’ve never been able to really do much about it. A few years ago, David flew into Maxie’s club and arrested him straight-up for drug trafficking. Not 12 hours later, he was out, cleared of all charges.
This isn’t going to be a battle we can fight with force.
I walk closer to the table where Sarah and Jack are seated. “And you believe that Zayas is responsible for the recent breakout?”
Sarah nods. “At some point, I began to hear whispers that he was planning some meteoric takeover of Opal City. He said he needed something to distract the local heroes in the meantime. And then, a few days before the big event happened, I saw him talking to that card guy who broke them all out.”
“Jeremy Tell,” Jack says.
“I… I couldn’t be a part of whatever he was doing,” Sarah says. “I grew up in Opal City. Believe it or not, I loved you guys.” She points to me. “I actually had a poster of you in my room. I thought Zayas was a harmless dude who just sat around. It wasn’t a big deal, whatever he was doing. The people he broke out… I remember seeing what they did on the news. I had to talk to you.”
“Glad you did,” Jack says. “Hey, that’s awesome that you had a poster of Phantom Lady. Wait, why aren’t we selling posters?” He turns to me. “Can we do that?”
I laugh. “Topic at hand,” I smile.
Mia leaves, and Hope walks up to us. “So… what’s the plan then? We can’t both take down Zayas and the people he released, right? Those are two huge undertakings.”
“That may be so,” I say. I pause for a second. “We may not need to. If we can get the All-Stars to handle the escaped convicts, we could divert all of our attention towards figuring out what Zayas is planning.”
“Okay,” Jack says, “but how are we going to take him down? David tried, and he failed miserably. The guy’s just super well-connected. We can’t just storm in there, can we.”
I smile. “Jack, sweetie. There are other ways to do this kind of work that don’t involve punching all your problems away.”
-=-=-=-= 🌟 =-=-=-=-
Interlude VIII: Hour of Espionage
”Positions, everyone,” Al Carlyle said through the microphone. ”We need to set the scene just right.”
Carlyle stared at the multitude of cameras around him. He watched as Luisa, Maya, and John made their way to the docks. Turning to another monitor, he watched as several stealth-agents readied their sniper rifles, hiding on rooftops, in windows. He pressed a button on the console in front of him; a series of machines around the docks whirred to life; to the outside observer, they looked like they were doing nothing, but Carlyle knew that they were the key to this mission.
“I have to say,” Luisa said apprehensively. “I’m really worried about this. These snipers… if he doesn’t show up, they will kill us, right?”
”11:49 PM,” Carlyle reiterated. ”Unfortunately, for this to work, the snipers have to be steadfastly committed to their mission. The dude doesn’t get visions about things that could happen. He gets them about things that will if he doesn’t intervene. But don’t worry; we’ve run several experiments with the energy emitters. Every time, he shows up right on cue.”
Luisa nodded. ”Okay. And what’s the deal with those machine things? You’ve explained them to me before, but I’m not good at remembering all the science stuff. Just isn’t my thing.”
”They emit a specific frequency of radiation that, for reasons unbeknownst to us, seem to massively increase the likelihood that Rick gets a vision in that area. We found residual traces of it naturally occurring in almost half of Rick’s usual visions; when we massively crank up the numbers, he always seems to show.”
The three kids sat down at the dock. After a few seconds, Carlyle spoke up. ”We’ve gotten confirmation that Rick has now left his house. The snipers can now evacuate the area. The three of you, just act normal. It’ll take the better part of the hour for him to get here, so get comfortable.” As soon as they had settled in, the masked snipers quickly ran off, lowering their weapons and quickly changing into civilian wear like clockwork.
John was the first to speak up after Carlyle went silent. “So, what, we’re gonna wait, like, 58 minutes until he gets there? Well, this will be boring.” He pulled out a couple of joints from his pocket. “Anyone want some?”
“We’re on duty,” Maya said. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”
John shrugged. “What? We have to sit around, pretend like we’re doing something, and then act all buddy-buddy with him when he shows up. It’s not like we’re taking down Basilisk; this is easy shit. It’ll be fine.”
Maya shook her head. “We should wait.”
John chuckled. “Alright, fine, you win. But we’re popping these babies out as soon as the man of the hour gets here. Got it?” He shoved the joints back into his pocket.
“Alright, whatever you want,” Maya smiled. “Just don’t come running to me when Carlyle yells at our asses for being high on the job.”
Carlyle watched the security footage, smiling and shaking his head to himself. Behind him, William Vickers walked up. He was the same age as the rest of them, but he had proven himself remarkably more mature than the others, quickly becoming the group’s de facto leader.
“Sorry to bother you at this time,” William said. “I gotta talk to you about another developing situation.” Carlyle hesitated, before standing up and dusting himself off. The two of them walked into the next room, where they began to talk.
“Basilisk activity’s been at an all-time high for the past few months,” William finally said. “Just recently, they’ve opened up 3 new cells in Germany, and are pulling in a remarkable number of recruits in Indonesia and Malaysia, to name a few. There’s also been a lot of restructuring; several smaller cells have been suddenly relocated to South America for some odd reason. If the ASA’s gonna be able to keep limiting their spread, we need more agents, and they need to be trained.”
Carlyle nodded. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I’ll remind you that you’re looking at only a small piece of the bigger picture. We are only a tiny fraction of what the ASA has to offer, and the adults are well aware of these issues. That said, you’re not wrong; we need all the help we can get. That’s what we’re working on right now.”
“Rick Tyler,” William affirmed. “He seems strong; he’d be a great start. But one metahuman won’t be enough. We need more metahuman soldiers, or at least, soldiers equipped with energy weapons and similar tech. The capes have been doing it for years; it works. But somehow, we can’t seem to find nearly enough people willing to serve. Maya’s the only metahuman on our squad right now, and her powers are still very much a wild card in combat scenarios.”
Carlyle nodded. “Yes,” he finally said. “Well, I don’t think that just recruiting a bunch of people is the right way to go. If we do that, we run the risk of potentially exposing ourselves to a large number of double-agents. But… if this lead pans out, there might be a way to enhance the prowess of the agents we already have.”
William perked up. “Yes? Do tell.”
“Presumably, Rick could gain access to the technology that Starman and his companions use to fight crime. Luisa could take a staff, you could take the blacklight…”
“I’m not the type of guy to stay in the shadows,” William said. “Have you seen my attempts at infiltration? Not my strong suit. Appreciate the offer, though.”
Carlyle nodded and smiled. “Well, whatever happens, this new member could help us more than we initially thought.”
-=-=-=-= 🌟 =-=-=-=-
Part 3: Jack Knight
I pull up to a street corner a few blocks away from what many Opal City residents affectionately refer to as the ‘Zayas Strip.’ Hope is sitting in the back seat, done up to look like a completely different person, and Sandra’s already run off to do some good old-fashioned sleuthing. The prosthetic nose I’m wearing feels so uncomfortable already; couldn’t we just have gone for the blond hair dye and nothing else?
Sandra materializes on the hood of her green convertible, startling the bejeezus out of me. “Password for the night is ‘Prometheus,’” she mutters.
“Alright, alright,” I say. “Hey, I know it’s technically your car and all, but maybe don’t jump on the hood, okay? That was probably the biggest scare I’ll have all night unless Grant decides that the Olympia is his new favorite haunt.”
Sandra ignores me. “You two head into the bar; I’ve given you fake IDs for the absolute worst-case scenarios, but you shouldn’t need to wave them around. I’ll never be too far behind, but as usual, you won’t see me. Got it?”
“Clear as ever,” I smirk.
“So,” Hope says from the back seat, “you ready to raise some hell?” Her usually-red hair is now jet-black, and she’s wearing these bright blue contact lenses that accentuate her eyes. If I didn’t know who she was, I would never have recognized her in the first place. Let’s just hope my disguise is just as good.
Sandra vanishes and we walk a few blocks further down Harris Street. As we walk down the street, the quiet townhouses are quickly replaced with a completely different atmosphere of bustling nightlife and flashing neon lights. On both sides of the street are a series of Zayas-owned businesses: strip clubs, brothels, bars, casinos, even a fight club at the far end of the street. It’s almost disorienting; look, I’m not the nicest guy in the world, never pretend to be, but I promise I’ve never been in a place like this. Not quite like this, at least.
Nestled in the middle of the brilliant signs and faint bouncing of club music is a single building not illuminated by lights. The top floor is taken up by some sort of high-end brothel with a sign reading ‘The Elysian Fields’ on it. The stairs that lead down to the bottom floor are guarded by a dude who seems absolutely ripped--like, probably-a-meta ripped--and a sign at the front reads “Olympia Nightclub.” Zayas’ personal shining gem, for those who were affluent enough to get an invitation.
I walk up to the bouncer and am immediately taken aback as I realize who exactly it is. Tony Woodward, aka Girder. Former Flash villain who got in a few fights with David before being broken out. As I get closer, it becomes clear that this dude’s entire body is made of rusted metal. He speaks up in a deep voice as we approach. “What’s the code?”
“Prometheus,” I say.
Girder bows his enormous metal head and steps to the left. “Enjoy.”
As we walk in, the last trace of the booty-bounce music that I could hear vanishes as it’s replaced by a classical violin tune from a distant speaker in the corner. The walls are blue plaster; segmenting the walls are a series of white column-like decals meant to invoke ancient Greek architecture. The bar in the center of the room is also surrounded by similar white columns. On the far end of the club is a wooden stage, currently unoccupied, and a few poker tables. Still not nearly half as good as my restaurant’s interior design.
The bartender walks up to us as we take a seat. His head is completely shaved; from what I can tell from the rest of his body, he appears covered in tattoos of vines and flowers. “Don’t think I’ve seen you lovely pair before around here,” he says.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” I smile. “We’re new in town. Heard about this place from an old military buddy of mind, and as it turns out, we got just enough money to spend on a nice place like this.” I reach out my hand and he shakes it. “David Vosberg. This is my girl, Rita.”
Hope offers her hand as well. The bartender shakes it. She turns down towards the cocktail menu, looking over the options. Her face shifts a bit as she reads over the various options; each one seems to be based on various tragic events that Opal City has suffered through. Down the list, I see the ‘Swift Hydro Plant’ as their fancy new drink, the ‘Prison Break,’ the ‘Doll Killer’--complete with a miniature doll in Martha Williams’ likeness--a drink simply labeled ‘The Mist,’ and, the final drink on the specialty list, the ‘Fallen Hero.’ The description listed it as ‘a tribute to the asshole who tried to bust us finally kicking the bucket. May aliens continue to do what we never can.’
My stomach drops. Fuck, while we go out and bust our balls to make this city a better place, the people in this club turn around and laugh at our failures. Laugh when one of us dies. I feel my blood boiling. I need to stay in character. I can’t blow this for all of us. Gritting my teeth, I take a few deep breaths before sucking it up.
“What’s the matter?” the bartender asks. “Can’t take a couple of dark jokes? Lighten up, man.” He gives me a pat on the back like I would ever be okay with that.
“Sorry,” I say. “It’s just… Well, let’s just say I lost someone personal in the hydro plant attack. One of, uh, those flying shadow things cut my brother open. I’ll take… I’ll take a Fallen Hero, I guess.” At this point, I’m flying by the seat of my pants. I’m definitely excited to get that drink.
“And I’ll take a Mist,” Hope says.
“Damn,” the bartender says. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize that you could… I’m sorry to hear about your brother.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “You couldn’t have known.”
The bartender serves our drinks and we quietly sip at them. Aside from a few regulars, nothing much seems to really be happening.
I feel a slight breeze on the back of my neck. I turn around; nestled in my suit is a small piece of paper. The writing on it reads, ”Can’t find Zayas, but did find something else big. Meet me outside? -Sandra”.
“Hey, uh, Rita?” I clear my throat and put my arm around her, subtly passing the note over to her. “This place is getting really stuffy; I think we need to step out for a second. Whaddya think?”
Hope shrugs. “Oh, alright,” she says, covertly reading the note. “But we’re coming back; this place is just fabulous, don’t you think?”
“Definitely,” I say. We walk outside, brushing past Girder’s cold metal form as we do. Sandra’s waiting on the corner of the street, fully visible.
Sandra turns to us as we approach, and her voice turns to a whisper. “So,” she says, turning to Hope. “Before I bring this up, I figure it’s worth asking. How much do you know about what your brothers work on in the Force?”
Hope takes a deep breath. “Well, you know what’s going on with Mason, Clarence is in the same precinct as me, Barry just got a promotion to Major Crimes, and Matt works… well, I think he works around here, actually.” Her face turns bright red. “What’s going on?”
“I managed to get into one of the back rooms,” Sandra says. “And… well, Zayas is there, and he’s talking to a bunch of associates. One of them was Tell. And I think one of them may have been Matt.”
Hope nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “I… I guess I’m not surprised. He’s always been really secretive about what he’s doing, he’s denied promotions before… but I didn’t really think about it before.”
Sandra sighs. “I know this can be hard to hear, but I, unfortunately, have to ask you for one more favor. We’re here to watch Zayas over an extended period of time, figure out what he’s planning. For that reason, you can’t tell your brothers about our suspicions.”
Hope nods. “Got it,” she says hurriedly. “My… my lips are sealed.” As she speaks, I can tell she’s not fully convinced.
We walk back to the car. This was a short mission, but if this goes right, it will be one of many. And once we’re done, I’m almost certain, we’ll be able to take Maxie Zayas down.
-=-=-=-= 🌟 =-=-=-=-
Part 4: Rick Tyler
“Okay,” I snarl as I pass Luisa in the hallways of my school. She’s currently putting her bag into her locker. “I need to know what the fuck is going on, and I want you to tell me everything. What do you want from me?”
“Rick, calm down,” Luisa says. “Look, there are reasons why we had to do what we did, why we couldn’t just tell you everything as soon as we met you. We’ll explain everything soon enough.”
I shake my head. “Again with the secrets. Just fucking tell me what I need to know, alright? You guys pretend to be my friends, stage some sort of chance meeting with me--I got no idea how you did that. You pay some guys to shoot your heads off if I didn’t show up?”
“More or less,” she whispers. “Look, keep your voice down, okay? What we’re involved with isn’t something we can talk about in public.”
Oh, for Jesus fucking Christ’s sake.
Luisa bows her head. “Meet me out front of the Valor Building, this Saturday at 3 PM. All three of us will be there. Once you get there, there’ll be no more secrets. You’ll get to know everything. Promise.”
I sigh and throw my hands up. “Okay, fine,” I whisper. “I’ll be there.”
As I make my way to class, I shake my head. Fuck this. Clearly, they don’t trust me any more than anyone else seems to. But still, for some reason, I still want to meet with them. Just to figure out what’s going on. And then I’ll be done with them.
I nod my head. That seems fine. Find everything out, then leave. I can handle that.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The Valor Building is one of Opal City’s oldest brownstone skyscrapers; it’s not even close to the tallest anymore, but it’s right in the middle of the city center, and it’s one of the most iconic buildings here. To those who actually give a fuck about Opal City, I guess. I remember that when Dad and Mom were still together, we ended up going for a weekend trip to Opal City. Dee and I were taken aback by the Valor Building and all of the dazzling skyscrapers in the city center; it felt so much nicer than Baltimore did. Then I moved here and discovered that like every other city, it’s full of shit. Tourists just like to hide the shitty parts from view.
I walk up to the front steps of the building. John is leaning against one of the pillars near the entrance, and Luisa and Maya are waiting for me up front.
“Yo, glad you could make it,” John smiles. “We were placing bets as to whether you’d actually show up. Seems like Luisa here owes me ten dollars.”
“Trust me,” Luisa laughs. “If you’d have been there, you’d have agreed with me. He didn’t seem like he was in the mood to keep putting up with our bullshit.” She turns to me. “Regardless, glad you could come. Sorry to put you through all of this.”
“Sorry,” I say, shrugging. “I can let my nerves get the best of me at times. I’m feeling better now, don’t worry.”
“So,” Maya says. “Are we ready to go?”
Luisa nods. Maya turns to the keypad next to her and types in a code. 7, 8, 4, 4, pound sign. The door clicks open. Immediately, as I walk into the lobby, I feel like I’m in a place I’m not supposed to be. The floor is made up of elaborately-patterned stone tiles; large windows to the sides let in a lot of sunlight as I walk to the elevators.
“So, uh, what do you do here?” I ask. “This is just, like, an office building, right?”
“Just, like, 10 seconds left,” Luisa says. “Then you’ll get to know all our secrets.” She calls the elevator, and we walk in. I push my way to the back as John and Maya get on.
“Alright,” John says. “I think it goes without saying that what we show you here today, you can’t mention to another living soul that we don’t approve of. Not even your hero pals. Got it?”
“Yeah, of course,” I say nonchalantly.
“Okay.” John reaches up above the panel of buttons on the elevator and opens up a small compartment. Inside is a fingerprint scanner; John jams his thumb onto the pad and the elevator begins to go down. After a few more seconds, the doors open. We’re in a pristine grey room; computers line every wall, and dozens of people look up as we walk in. Immediately, it reminds me of Ted’s workshop, but on a much bigger scale.
A man is waiting for us in the middle of one of the hallways. He’s wearing a neatly-ironed grey-green suit, with combed-over white hair. He reaches out his hand for me to shake.
“Al Carlyle,” he says. “Director of the American Security Agency. Nice to meet you, Rick. I’ve heard so many great things about you.” I turn around. All three of my so-called “friends” have deserted me, leaving me with this weird dude.
“Uh, nice to meet you too,” I mutter, shaking his hand. “So what exactly is going on here?”
“Well,” Al smiles, “what isn’t going on here? I suppose you’re a bit confused, a bit overwhelmed, so I’ll try and give you the long and short of it. We’re like the CIA, sort of. But a bit more secret. We’re the CIA when the CIA can’t be involved. Take, for example, metahuman agents. Do you know much about the Freedom Fighters?”
I shrug. “Heard of them. The original Starman was working with one of them, I think.”
Al nods. “Come,” he says. “Walk with me.” I sigh and follow him through the convoluted halls and terminals of this absolutely massive underground base.
“Now,” he says, “the Freedom Fighters were a truly amazing group of people. They were a UN task force composed of one sergeant, a handful of regular soldiers, and three metahumans. Well, they fought long and hard for the values that we hold dear to us today, but in the end, the UN saw them as a threat. What’s to stop our enemies from conscripting metahumans too? It’d be another cold war, one that many countries were all-too-eager to stop. So, metahumans were banned from serving in combat.”
He clears his throat and lets out a hearty chuckle. “Well, you see, terrorists don’t tend to follow by our rules. I suppose that’s what makes them terrorists, don’t you think? So that’s where we come in. One of many examples, I suppose, of where we come in. We use many of the techniques superheroes use to fight against potential threats to the land of the free and the brave. And I’ve had my eye on you for a while. I think you’d make a great addition to our cause.”
I pause and look around me. This place is huge. It’s bound to take up more than a few city blocks. When I intercepted the battle Jack was having with Swift, this base was underneath it all, computers typing away. Our school is only a few blocks west of here; it’s very possible the base extends that far too. I haven’t even been in Opal City for a year yet, but I had felt like I knew everything about it. Clearly, I was wrong.
I’ve never been the type of person who hated the government and everything they did. I followed the news, though, and they’ve clearly done some questionable things in the past few years. With Cale as President, that’s just going to get worse and worse. Do I want to be a part of this? Clearly, I don’t think I do. I was just here to get answers, and I got mine. That’s as far as this goes.
‘Take your time,” Al laughs. “We’d love to have ya, but no pressure either way.”
Before I can tell him no, my vision flashes white. A man walking down a run-down section of Snejbjerg Street. Nearly bald buzz-cut, blue eyes, wearing a grey hoodie. A car pulls up to him, firing three rounds in his chest. The blood splatters over the sidewalk. I snap back to reality.
“I have to go,” I say, my voice strained. “How do I get out of--”
Al gives me a knowing smile. “What’s going to happen, and where will it be?”
I sigh. “Some dude in a grey hoodie is gonna get shot on Snejbjerg Street. Drive-by shooting. It was a black sedan, I think. Just let me go, okay?”
Al turns on a radio on his jacket. “I want a dozen soldiers placed across Snejbjerg Street within the hour. Look out for black sedans, check each one for weapons. And get Rick Tyler here a tall glass of water.”
Immediately, the people around me start getting up and gearing into action. A young woman who was manning a computer earlier walks up to me and offers me a glass of water. I drink from it.
“Thanks,” I finally say.
Al hands me a burner phone from his pocket. “If you ever get any visions at an inconvenient time, text me from this phone. We’ll have it handled, and you can focus on the things in life that matter.”
I smile. “Wow, thanks.”
Al nods. “Look, Rick, I know that everything must be really disorienting for you right now, but trust me when I say that we’re here for you. From what I’ve heard from my agents that have been interacting with you, that doesn’t seem to be the case with the other team you’re on right now. They see you as a loose cannon. Maybe they’re right, who knows. But here, we need loose cannons. You can beat up as many terrorists as you want here--or don’t, whatever floats your boat. But you’re welcome here as you are, no matter who that is.”
I pause, looking around for a second. He’s right; in the few seconds I’ve met him, Al has made me feel at home more than I’ve ever been with the All-Stars.
I reach out and shake Al’s hand. “I’m in.”
“Fantastic,” he smiles. “Well, let’s meet the team then.” He brings me to a room with a circular table. Around the table are John, Luisa, Maya, and another kid I don’t remember. White kid with neatly-trimmed brown hair.
“Well,” Al says, “this is one of our finest covert ops units. We’re calling them the ‘Force of July.’ Right now, they’re mostly doing international missions, but we’re planning on bringing them into the spotlight as superheroes to handle domestic matters in the near future.”
He gestures to John. “You’ve already met John Trujillo, Jr., alias: ‘The Black Condor.’ His dad was one of our finest officers before sadly meeting his fate protecting our country. He piloted a one-of-a-kind wingsuit that his son now uses.”
“Besides that,” Al continues, “the Campoverde sisters have been fantastic assets. Luisa first came to us because she needed help with her sister’s metahuman powers. That’s right: she found us. Always a good metric for future success. Turns out, her sister has a bit of a way with plants, and it was a bit out of her control. Now, the two of them serve us as Lady Liberty and Mayflower.”
The last kid, the one I haven’t met, reaches over to shake my hand. “William Vickers,” he says. “Also known as Major Victory. My teammates have been telling me a lot about you. It’s good to finally get to meet you in the flesh.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” I say. And somehow, surprisingly, I mean it.”
Al nods and smiles. “Now that we’ve gotten to know each other, Rick, I have a special mission briefing for you and only you. I can tell that this will be the beginning of a long and fruitful partnership.”

This season deserves a special award for inspiring flat-line boredom, with each storyline offering at least one awful person dripping poison over anyone kind or thoughtful.
Natalie: Mike wants for me to be the bad one. What is this farce?
Mike: I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the I DON’T LOVE YOU.
When we last saw Mike, Natalie was spring cleaning his self-esteem the Marie Kondo way, except she torched everything that sparked joy to make room for more misery. Now he’s outside wondering why science hasn’t granted him the ability to beam onto an airplane to spare him the insult of standing in a Ukraine alleyway, waiting for his maybe-fiancée to flounce down the stairs and demand an apology for…something. Natalie, Our Lady of 1,000 Bluffs, somehow finds the strength and courage to amble down the stairs and sit in the backseat of an Uber for a melancholy airport adventure.
Natalie: Mike, everything is good. You must calm down and stop being so dramatic. This is gaslight like in movies. Now I must cure you of hysteria with vibrators and Valium.
Mike: I mean, do we have to keep filming? What if I jump out while the car is moving? Can that be your final scene?
Natalie thinks that in a perfect world Mike would apologize just for sport and then sweep her off her feet, which should be easy since they’re never on the ground. After several awkward airport moments Mike tells Natalie that he’ll call her later, but he needs time for detox and an exorcism. Natalie remains confused that Mike thought she loved him, based on the 30,000 times she said “I love you,” when he should have been able to read her rapidly changing narrative and anticipate ongoing rewrites. She approaches Mike to pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on, but Mike isn’t falling for that shit. He asks for a goodbye hug, she says no, and Mike bounces. Natalie sulks off to find her people in the Land of Bad Decisions, where Tania is waiting for her upon a throne of skulls.
Back home and no longer engaged, Mike is making pancakes for himself and Uncle Beau. Beau comes rushing in the door to ask Mike how the trip was, and to announce that he lost $25 at the casino last night and needs to borrow from the bank of Mike. So um…Mike’s entire life is apparently like this. Can Mike and Syngin get a beer together please?
Blake: I have friends.
Jasmin: I don’t care if Blake’s friends like me. I also don’t care if Blake likes me.
Blake is getting ready for his friend Everett’s birthday party, while Jasmin warms up her excuses for dodging it. Jasmin knows this party was the plan from the start, but decides against being a good introvert who tells him to go without her and to just enjoy himself. Instead, she attempts to smash Blake’s social butterfly in favor of a sober conversation about yoga and tea. She asks Blake if they can skip the pre-party dinner and just eat together, which Blake agrees to with the caveat that he will continue to express his dismay. Blake orders a drink, and Jasmin reminds him that you can’t talk to Jesus when you’re drunk.
Jasmin latches on to Blake drinking as her excuse for avoiding phase 2 of the evening’s pseudo-social interaction. She says she’s going to call her sister instead and pretend to be mad at him while being secretly relieved to enjoy blissful time away from his flock. What remains of Blake’s sense of humor about this situation gets lost trying to escape his hair. Jasmin tells the cameras that it’s selfish to ask her to go to a party, and totally forgets the part where it’s selfish to derail his plans because that plan is something she doesn’t want to do. Blake says that he’s tired of explaining her behavior to his friends. Neither one of these two is capable of having an adult argument, and are likely on a relationship subreddit as I type, posting a totally balanced report of their latest immature interaction.
Jasmin arrives at Janette’s clinical apartment, and declares that Blake refuses to do anything that interests her, because “everything is always about Blake.” She says that Finnish folks are calmer, while Janette tells her that she needs to keep trying to adapt, and by “keep trying” she means try at all.
Tania: Okay guys, I get it, I’m like, the villain here. Did anyone else just feel a weird rush of glee? That must be Mercury in douchebag and Mars going direct into asshole.
Totally grounded and focused financial wizard Fucking Tania has put her trusty pink shirt in time-out, for a responsible and goal-oriented phone call to an astrologer with a predictable funny name. But not before Syngin fetches precise room temperature water for her to swallow with her lizard tongue to maintain the skin suit that presents some approximation of humanity.
Syngin calls his mother to gather the data necessary for someone to cold-read Tania over Skype, and his mom clarifies that he was born at “twenty to three.” Resident expert Tania mansplains that this means 2:40, and this is apparently how she will feel superior today.
“We are energy beings,” Tania tanias. “And I was born at a certain time for a certain reason, and that reason is to vampire every shred of joy from Syngin’s twinkling soul.”
“Marie Kondo,” Natalia pipes in. “Clean out all of the joy.”
Astrologist Daizy October picked that name on purpose, and tells Tania something about “blueprints of the soul” which makes the first shelf of the New Age section of the bookstore start vibrating. She declares that Sagittarius is the archetype of travel, which is what one would say to someone who can afford Costa Rica but not a shed of one’s own.
Daizy: Now Mars in Scorpio, and Tania is in existence, which means there’s going to be some fighting, and sex is important. Syngin, blink if you need help.
Syngin: Oh yes.
Fucking Tania: Is that blood in the water? No wonder I’m hungry.
Syngin: By “oh yes” I meant yes, I need help.
Ms. October says that their souls bring them together, which would make sense if Tania had one, and asks if they’re soulmates. Syngin says their connection is so vivid he feels like he’s met her before, and then he died to escape her. Tania looks drunk on hurting Syngin, and pushes it further by insisting her first love was her soulmate, and he still is, even though she hasn’t been with that dude for like 8 years or so, and the restraining order keeps getting renewed over and over again. Syngin points out that they met in a star-crossed way, foolishly failing to note that hurting him is Tania’s entire objective.
“I feel like I don’t know what to say, because anything I say will hurt you, which is why I can’t stop laughing. I’m fine,” Tania reports. Then Syngin tells the cameras he needs a break to restore his essence, and Tania hovers in the doorway, eagerly anticipating the chance to harvest from him all over again.
So to recap: Tania, who trusts in the universe, does not trust that the universe gifted her Syngin, but instead believes that eventually she’ll be regifted the tattered remains of her original bottom, who has likely moved on to other astral alignments, and a thousand mile away zip code. Yep, this is pretty on brand for Tania.
Angela: I’m not the bad guy, I’m a tax payer!
Michael: I have a shopping list.
Angela’s chest is newly covered in an ancient pirate treasure map, guiding strangers to the booty in her bra. Her plan is to storm the American embassy and assert her tax payer status as a means of pushing this K-1 process forward. After ambling through the gates and harassing multiple members of security, she emerges and bellows to Michael. She says they wouldn’t let her into the embassy since she doesn’t have an appointment, and strangely, they don’t consider a white lady demanding a K-1 an emergency. Maybe she needed to explain that she’s working with the alternative reality where she can carry a child, and they wouldn’t give her Botox in her uterus.
The next day they go to Michael’s uncle’s house for dinner, but first they have to stop and pick up a microwave for Michael’s mother. Angela is worried that the material expectations increase with every dinner, and says that the gifts can’t keep growing in value.
“Please Angela. We need to present a love and respect microwave,” Michael persuades.
The man working at the store states a price far more than the microwave is worth, and then Michael says he should price it less because they’re going to get something else, too. This is his way of surprising Angela with a required gift for his uncle. She tells the shopkeeper that she’s got 15,000 stored under her best titty, and he should take it and call it good now that she’s his African sister. Okay then. The guy takes it, and she walks away with a microwave and kettle.
Angela is happy to visit his family, especially Michael’s mother, whom she loves so much. As the most junior, or newest, wife, Angela is expected to help cook and serve as a sign of humility. She awkwardly works on plantains while Michael insists he’s not expecting much in terms of domesticity once they are stateside, but he will expect her to cook, in addition to being the only breadwinner and caretaker for a bushel basket of people. Even the producer laughs, because the only thing Angela will be cooking in Georgia is Michael if he maintains that ridiculous idea.
Michael’s family starts asking about their wedding plans, and Angela explains that the K-1 is her family’s only opportunity to see her get hitched. They are eager for Michael to have a child with Angela’s ashy uterus, and his whole family starts weighing in on the matter, which nudges Angela right to the edge. She somehow keeps her mouth shut and remains respectful, even after Uncle says that if it doesn’t work Michael should move on to the next baby basket, which is a regional woman unlikely to arrive with household appliances. Are they trying to get on Maury? If you listen closely you can hear Angela’s internal kettle whistling away, and her microwave chiming ding-ding-ding.
Emily: You don’t have to be a Debbie Downer!
Betsy: I will be one ASAP!
Emily has freed Sasha from the clutches of Indiana in favor of her fake hometown Portland, where she takes him to Washington Park’s Rose Garden to show him how shitty west coast cities are, amirite Trump? Emily says that it’s going to be expensive to go from two-for-one Indiana to Portland’s most expensive suburb, confirming my suspicion that she’s from Lake Oswego, where Real Housewives ferment until their first divorce and rehab stint. This is good news for Sasha, who is very likely to find a wealth of personal training clients and his fourth wife there. Emily says they should get married ASAP, and Sasha agrees without knowing what ASAP means.
“After two weddings, third not so much,” Sasha shrugs. “Fourth will be court house. Fifth, maybe commitment ceremony.”
Emily heads back to scenic South Bend to save hundreds of dollars on a wedding dress. She says she’s leaning towards the Oregon coast as a wedding location, which makes sense if you don’t know that every venue from Brookings to Astoria is booked ages in advance, but she wouldn’t be the first or last person to turn that AirBnB into Plan A and Plan B. Emily’s sister is there to remind her that every idea she has about her impending nuptials is wrong, which is not fair to Emily, who knows every lace dress is better with piercing wind and sand. The salesperson hides in the dressing room from their endless passive-aggressive sparring, before coming out to place a veil and headpiece on Emily and make Betsy cry.
Robert: I’m terrible. Why are you always complaining?
Anny: I would like to go out with Robin or Mike now please.
Hey guys, you know how 90DF always has one trashy, delusional family that believes the fiancé is there to steal their no-money? Well, this round it’s fucking Robert, father of five who appears to be largely free from the burdens of child support...or who perhaps opts for tax-free employment for those very reasons. He’s dragging Anny and the other person who is nice to her (his sister Robin) to a restaurant to meet up with his equally-awful brother Kenny. Robin says that Bryson loves Anny and that she really likes her too, while Kenny gets busy disrespecting and humiliating her before she can work a “hello” out of her mouth.
Kenny wants to know how she’ll be in the future, and Anny suspects he doesn’t know what year it is, so she reminds him that they live in the present, and what matters is how they treat each other now. In response, Kenny says he’s not sure if he’s going to their wedding at all, carrying on the 9DF tradition of families that fail to notice it isn’t all about them.
Now fully defensive and uneasy, Anny asks if Kenny is cheap too, and Robin assures Anny that she wouldn’t be a fan of a thrift store shopping spree, either. This gets in the way of Robert and Kenny’s plan to disrespect women in public places, so Kenny asks if she always complains a lot. Anny corrects him that her issue is that Robert lies, and told her he had three kids instead of five, in addition to making endless empty promises of clothing, an apartment, and any expression of affection whatsoever. Kenny says that he has seven kids, which isn’t normally something you play as clap-back, but okay Kenny. Yes, seven is greater than five.
Anny has had it with them and their apparent plan to overpopulate the planet, and leaves and says that she feels alone. “That’s not the way you talk when you love somebody,” she says, speaking truth.
“Well, my fiancé only loves me on Thursdays. Do you want to get a beer with me and Syngin?” Mike is there for her.
Juliana: In this story, my family appears to be the villains, and this makes me sad.
Michael: I’m rich but my tux doesn’t fit.
On the day of the wedding, Max and CeCe are in conference about the gravity of the forthcoming nuptials, in between mugs of stiff black coffee and plates of almond biscotti.
CeCe: I’m feeling moderately uneasy, due to rigid societal expectations of appropriate age disparity. Surely if this were the era of Ibsen’s “A Doll’s House” this wouldn’t even muddy my mind, but given the unfortunate modern conviction that a second spouse serves as an accessory and not a person, we have some educating to do.
Max: This seems a prudent way to address the offensive tongue of your friend Dakota, who has lived a sheltered life free from parental relationship development and sexual exploration. For now, I’ll simply relish the opportunity to wax poetic on their enduring love once mother has concluded her oratory.
CeCe: I have some concerns about you being assigned this important role, while I am relegated to the background. Is this sibling rivalry? Not very becoming of me, I’m sure.
Max: I validate your feelings of envy, but as the elder sibling I am allotted a generous portion of gloating which will carry all the way into the late stages of my adulthood.
CeCe: Is that when you argue with your wife about 401K distribution while I go to Burning Man in a modified school bus?
Max: Do you bite your thumb at me?
CeCe: I do bite my thumb at you, sir!
Meanwhile, Juliana’s friend Pao is there (no, not that Pao, who is only friends with Juan) along with her friend Cousy, who Juliana describes as like a second mom. Cousy lives in Milan, where Juliana met her during a modeling gig, and she sprung for the ticket to ease Juliana’s loneliness on her special day. In Michael’s wedding prep, we learn that he bought two tuxedos, and decides to wear the one that fits. Juliana wishes her mother could see her in her wedding dress, or was capable of acknowledging her existence when she’s not buying a car for her sister.
A gorgeous clear tent is set up to welcome wedding guests, all but two of which are friends or family of Michael. CeCe is on deck to tell Juliana she looks so pretty, while Max gives Michael a pep talk about toxic masculinity and exploring romantic relationships with an open heart. Cousy then hands her phone to Juliana to share a video she made of messages from Juliana’s friends who want to wish her well. Juliana keeps waiting for a relative to appear in this video, but it doesn’t happen, because apparently Juliana’s family has plenty of narcissists. Or maybe they’re hiding in the wings until the next episode? Either way, the family doesn’t so much as text her, and in the face of this intentional cruelty Juliana starts crying and struggles to stop, thawing the thickest layer of our cold black hearts.
Next time, Jasmin says she doesn’t want to work or smile or breathe, Sasha promises to love his third wife until he doesn’t, Juliana braces to be married by her future husband’s ex-wife, while Syngin finds a friend to mouth “help me” to when Tania is sleeping safely in her coffin.
Thank you Patreon supporters! Follow the link in my bio to bathe in my toxic pool!

Continuing.
After the third pony keg of beer was delivered, it was decided that the next few days would be spent in the conference room discussing what we thought was the best way forward.
We wanted dry-erase boards so we could start taking detailed notes, even though I was well ahead of the curve in that regard. We instead ended up with some mobile elementary-school blackboards and a pile of grainy, sooty chalk.
Leave it to Dr. Cliff to go into a discourse on the genesis of chalk and its economic importance.
Bloody carbonate geologists.
Bloody White Cliffs.
We geologists need to punctuate their conversations with pictures, so these would suffice quite well.
At 1700 hours, the official end to the workday was called; we’d meet here again tomorrow. I’m not certain by whom, but it was readily agreed upon. We were more or less on our own until 1000 the next day. I needed to spend some time in my room with my notes and update a number of dossiers, field notebooks, and other items I was using as a running chronicle.
Several folks decided to invade one of the hotel’s restaurants for dinner. Some wanted to head to the casino, a couple wanted to get a massage, and others wanted to do what tourists are normally wont to do on the second day of being a foreigner in a foreign land.
I declined invitations to dinner and other activities, as I had a long writing session in front of me. I wanted to get this all in its proper place while the memories and notes were still fresh.
30 minutes later, in my room after a 25-minute wait for the elevator; I’m updating dossiers, creating several new ones, and updating my field notebooks. Suddenly, after an hour’s work, I notice something is amiss.
“I don’t have a drink or a cigar,” I said to the four walls. “This. Will. Not. Do.”
I was used to Happy Hour in Russia. Happy hour is slightly different; there are no ice cubes or orange-peel twists in the vodka. Also, it lasts all day.
I remedy that situation by finding and clipping a nice, oily oscuro cigar and digging the bourbon out from under my boxer-briefs in my dresser drawer. I heft the bottle and feel that it’s significantly lighter than when I left it last night. I happen to look in the trash can and spy the wrapper for a box of my festively colored Sobranie cigarettes I obtained back in Dubai.
“Hmmm”, I think, “It would appear that we have some light-fingered Cho Louies or No Louises around here. I’d best guard my supplies a little more securely.”
I move all my smokeables into one of my now emptied aluminum travel cases. They lock with the stoutest of combinations and it will be readily apparent if anyone is fucking with them.
I move some of my best booze into the pretty much worthless in-room safe. With a deft application of duct tape, I seal the safe. It may not be the most secure spot on the planet, but if anyone tries anything troublesome, they’ll leave an immediately recognizable record of what they were up to. It’s just too obvious; they’d have to be crazy to go in after anything inside there.
My money, keys, and passports are in the safe deposit box down in the lobby that the hotel supplies for visiting dignitaries. Even so, they let me keep my shit in one of them anyway.
That handled, I spend another hour writing like a madman. I suddenly realize I’m tired of all this and need a diversion as well as some food and, of course, drink.
30 minutes later, I’m down in the byzantine basement tunnels of the hotel. It’s crowded with hordes of Chinse tourists, and the casino is ground zero for the incredibly loud chatter.
I look in on the bowling alleys all three of them, and they’re full. The massage parlor is hopping, although I leave my name and they promise they will call over the PA when a suitable masseuse is available. Evidently, I ‘intimidate’ some of the more demure ones.
I wander over to the bar, now there’s a surprise, and see it’s packed to the rafters as well. I decide to wait for a seat to open up on Mahogany Ridge when there’s some gargling over the PA and a pair of Chinese nationals leave the bar in great haste.
I grab one of the two newly open seats, much to the chagrin of a couple of Oriental Unidentifiables (OU) who had their eye on them as well.
“Sorry, mate”, I said, “First come, first served. It’s the capitalist way.”
One of the pair grabs a seat and the other just stands there, looking annoyed unspent bullets in my direction. Forget that I’ve literally twice their size and could be an aberration as an angry American. They just order a couple of drinks, and content themselves in giving me dirty looks and probably say nasty things in their own indecipherable language about my national origin and familial heritage.
As if I gave the tiniest of rodental shits.
I fire up a cigar, as literally everyone else in the joint was smoking something more or less tobacco. However, there was a definite barnyard aroma, a regular Dairy Air, in the room. I think some of what was being smoked there was more bovine or equine in origin than botanical in nature.
With numerous hilarious attempts at Korean, pointing at a garishly photographed drinks menu, I was finally served a cold draft house steam porter and 100 milliliters of probably ersatz ‘Russian’ vodka, vintage late last Thursday. This bartender that could at least form some of the phonemes found in American English. A few. A definite few.
Since it all cost the equivalent of US$0.50, I really didn’t care.
Apparently vodka helps flowers last longer when they're dying. But you can put vodka in anything and it'll make it better.
Being a trained observer, I rather enjoy just sitting in any old bar, smoking my cigar, drinking my Yorshch, and watching people. I try and not be intrusive and I never eavesdrop, but I like to try and think of what strange set of circumstances brought us all here together in this place at this time. It gives me writing ideas, some of which I jot down in a notebook I always carry. It also gives me a good shot of nostalgia when I look back at something I wrote some 40 or so years ago.
Yeah, old habits do die hard.
I take a drag off my cigar and set it in the ashtray in front of me on the bar as I go to correct another egregious misspelling in my notebook. I have to immediately proofread what I wrote, or I’d never recall later what the fuck I was trying to convey; especially if it’s in a noisy, smoky, or murky milieu.
Quicker than a bunny fucks, Unidentifiable Oriental #1 (UO #1) deftly reaches over, snags my cigar, and helps himself to a few mouthy puffs.
I look at him, the empty ashtray directly in front of me, him again, and then UO #2.
Since I speak no real Oriental, much less Korean, language, and my Mandarin at this point is worse than laughable; I just point to the cigar, turn out my hands and shrug my shoulders in the international “What the actual fuck, dude?” gesture.
He just smiles a gappy, toothy, and snaggle-toothed at that, grin at me and makes a point of ensuring that I see him enjoying a few more drags on my own damned cigar.
Not able to contain myself any further, I venture a “What the fuck, chuckles? That’s not your fucking cigar.”
Like gasoline being tossed on a fire-ring full of embers, they both go unconditionally incoherently insane.
Yammering, chattering, jumping up and down, and getting right into my face. They wanted me to unquestionably understand that my few words of English insulted them far more than their filching of my $20 cigar.
OK, I’m pretty well trained in Hapkido; an oddly, given the present situation, hybrid Korean martial art. I’m at least 6 or 7 inches taller and who knows how many stone/kilos/pounds/Solar masses heavier than these two clowns. I could easily go all Gojira on their hapless asses and mop significant expanses of the floorboards with them.
Instead, I look around for the bartender. I figured since I was keeping him well supplied with Korean won via tips, and he spoke some English as well as perhaps whatever the fuck these characters were chattering; maybe he could get to the bottom of what was happening.
The bartender walks over and I ask him to ask the two unidentifiable twins why they stole my cigar.
He nods in agreement and goes on in whatever the fuck dialect was being used today by the pair.
“They say they wanted it. So they took it.” They ask, “What are you going to do about it?” the bartender relates.
I deftly reach inside my field vest, as everyone concerned ducks and covers.
I extract two fresh cigars; not a .454 Casull Magnum.
I give one cigar to the bartender and one to OU#2.
“With my compliments.” I pleasantly say.
I was well apprised of the fact that in certain places like this, the local authorities often approach foreigners with, for the lack of a better term, ‘Agents Provocateur’.
Like the Westboro Baptist “Church”, they try to get a rise out of you so you’ll lose your cool and either create a scene or take a poke at the miscreant. Then they have all the pretext they require to drag you to the local hoosegow, shake you down for every penny on your person, as well as any phones, notebooks, wallets, passports, cigars, cigarettes, etc.
Basically, they goad you into a fight, then drop the thousand-pound shit-hammer when you retaliate.
It’s all so parochial. So obviously clear as vodka; this elementary charade only raised a single eyebrow.
I’m not going to even raise my voice over a couple of cheap cigars that neither of them noticed I slipped them instead of the premium ones I was smoking.
Thus defeated, I asked the bartender to ask them if they liked the cigar.
“What do you think?” I asked in cordial English, “Too tightly rolled? Not caged enough? Too green?”
UO #2 slipped and said “It smells very good…” where he realizes he’s blown his cover.
“Yeah, I like it too.”, I replied, “So much so, I buy my own. What are your badge numbers, boys? I will be reporting this incident to Inspector P'aeng Yeong-Hwan, the head of security for the IUPGS conference to which I was invited as special scientific consultant.”
Of course, they immediately dummy up and feign illiteracy.
I say loudly and very clearly, “You bastards aren’t gonna get away with this. I mean, what is going on in this country when scumsuckers like you can get away with trying to sandbag a Doctor of Geological Sciences?”
I ask the bartender to translate, but alas, it was too late. They vamoosed when I turned to talk with the bartender.
They left so fast, they didn’t notice me snapping their pictures with my ancient but trusty Nokia 3310, revised edition, during our little chat. Even with a mere 2-megapixel picture, I have enough to show the North Korean leaders of the project to get an identification and make known my displeasure of being treated like some commoner or buffoon.
They left both my cigar and the one I gave them. The bartender tucked the cigar I gave him into his pocket and stared lustily at the two remaining on the bar.
“Take’em”, I said. I sure as fuck don’t want them. “Just a clean ashtray and a refill, if you would be so kind,” I say, as pleasantly as possible, considering the situation.
Both the unsmoked and my smoldering, as well as well-traveled, cigar disappear as quickly as minks rut. A clean, new ashtray, double beer and ‘vodka’ suddenly appear.
“No charge, Dr. Rock”, the bartender grins, as he shoves my erstwhile high-mileage cigar between his teeth.
“OK, fair enough.”, I say, “Spaseebah.”, and deposit a raft of won on the bar. The pile won’t be touched until after I leave in a few hours’ time.
“Stranger in a strange land.” I muse over a couple of further beers.
The call from the massage parlor never came, or it did and I couldn’t hear it over the clamor of the casino. I went up to the hotel’s Korean restaurant; had some salty soup, a sad, sad salad, and some form of funky fish, I think, for dinner. I retired that night in a slightly foul mood.
I called Es then the next morning and caught her before she retired. With a 14 hour difference between us, I was getting up at 0700 and she was getting ready to hit the hay at 2100.
I told her of the events of the day previous, and she was glad she wasn’t tagging along. She would have never accused the Korean geologists of being behind the times and would have probably bent the guy’s nose that swiped my cigar.
Agreed, that she’d probably be unimpressed with this place. I promised her that we’d go on a holiday when I returned from all this. It would be up to her to find out ‘where,’ and I’d supply the ‘when’ when I could.
Everything else was going along smoothly, more or less, on the home front, and I didn’t want to give the local listening-in federales too much to say grace over, so we said our parting admirations and rang off.
Shower, shower sunriser of real vodka and citrus, a quick brush and comb, and spiff of cargo shorts and new ghastly Hawaiian shirt; 30 minutes later, back down in the restaurant for the inevitable breakfast buffet.
After what some would consider breakfast and others would consider a vague attempt at nourishment, we reconvened in the conference room precisely at 1012.
Nothing like precision with this group.
We spend the next two days going over, in various groups, what we think would be required to set forth proper the quest for oil and gas in North Korea on track. Everyone got in on the act, and we advocated for that. We needed everyone’s input to make this happen. Or to even map a way forward to present to country officials. Those from the West on what was needed and those from the East to tell us what was available, and the combined wetware to make what needed to be done happen with what existed.
It took no small amount of doing, but we secured a set of maps that covered the entire country. We were watched very closely by the shiny suit squad that we did not copy, photograph or otherwise take any extraneous information from these sheets of infamy. All other maps in the country were intentionally skewed, with errors deliberately added in to confuse “interlopers, spies, or other personas non grata”.
I made a massive stink and told them that if we didn’t receive the unfuckered maps, aerial photographs and satellite imagery pronto, we’re packing up and leaving that afternoon.
“We don’t have time for monks resisting the carnival. We didn’t come here to try and guess if the maps are correct or if our remedies will actually work on maps that say one thing and reality says something else entirely.”
They hemmed and hawed, but as I made the announcement to all before lunch that if the real maps didn’t appear by the time we returned from tiffin, we’re gone.
And we take tiffin purty durn early round these parts, buckaroo.
No one was surprised as I when we returned and there were folio after folio of government-uncensored maps, photos, and imagery for our program. I guess they finally reasoned it would be a relatively good idea to begin to take us seriously.
We spent one whole day just going over our field geological apparatus. They had a good idea of how to use a direction-finder compass and Jacob’s staff to measure sections. However, they were totally flummoxed by our Brunton Compasses, GPS systems, curiously referred to as ‘position finders’, notebook mapping applications, and electronic data storage and retrieval systems.
Gad. It was like being back in the 1970s before PCs were a glimmer in IBM's corporate orbs.
We spent the next week working to bring our less fortunate colleagues up to, well, not date, but at least up to the brink of the 21st century. We explained that plate tectonics, continental drift, and the precession of the continents was accepted geoscientific principles, not some arcane Capitalist or Socialist plot to undermine the quality of science in the east.
Yep. It was that mindset we had to first conquer. I think we’ve made great headway in that direction today.
The next Chautauqua session had us split up into two separate groups. We decided in a fit of Cesarean inquiry to ‘divide and conquer’. There are two distinct milieus which are able to contain economic deposits of hydrocarbons: onshore and offshore.
Instead of attacking both head-on, we’d focus initially on the offshore domain. Once we had a good handle on what was going on under the East Korean Sea, the Huangai (Yellow) Sea and surreptitiously, the South Sea; we’d collaborate our findings and work to tie them in and extend them onshore.
The singular Phyongnam Basin is the one large depositional, sedimentological, and structural basin in North Korea. It is filled by the Joeson and Pyeongan Supergroups of sediments, which are Cambro-Ordovician and Permocarboniferous, respectively. These are good hunting grounds for oil and gas. Could be elephant–hunting country.
But before we could undertake that, we had to get ‘back to basics’. That is, we had to understand and delineate the ‘frame’ of the Korean Peninsula. In other words, we needed to figure out how and when the peninsula came into existence.
South Korea’s geology is much more complex, fortunately than that found in the North. There were nasty side comments that were due to the relative development not of the geology, but of the geologists who studied each country’s geology.
It was, perhaps, a mean way of characterizing the situation. But, unfortunately, it was also probably fairly accurate.
The Korean Peninsula is characterized by huge massifs, which are sections of a crust that are demarcated by faults or flexures. In the movement of the crust, a massif tends to retain its internal structure while being displaced as a whole. The term also refers to a group of mountains formed by such a structure. It’s basically one huge, semi-resilient rock.
The basement rocks of the Korean Peninsula consist of high-grade gneiss and schist, Paleoproterozoic Precambrian massifs, which formed in the early stage of Earth’s history. These rocks are unconformably overlain by metasedimentary rocks; schist, quartzite, marble, calcsilicate, and amphibolite, of the Middle to Late Proterozoic. The Korean Peninsula is floored by a collation of about five of these huge Precambrian massifs that acted like ‘microplates’ during the aggregation of the peninsula. These massifs consist of thick dolostone, metavolcanics, and schist, which were intruded by Paleoproterozoic granites.
These Paleoproterozoic metasedimentary and granitic rocks underwent repeated intracrustal differentiation, followed by the events of cratonization, i.e., regional metamorphism and igneous activity, at 1.9-1.8 Ga. Sediments deposited in the peripheral basins during the Mesoproterozoic and Neoproterozoic lead to stabilization as the basement of the peninsula.
These early depositional basins formed the locus of deposition that continued on from the Proterozoic through the Phanerozoic. There are at least three, perhaps four, depositional basins in the south which are delimited by structural zones, such as the South Korean Tectonic Line (SKTL), a huge zone of continental transform faults and forms the basis of boundary demarcation between the Okcheon and Taebaeksan basins.
The boundary between the Seochangri Formation of the Okcheon Basin and the Joseon Supergroup of the Taebaeksan Basin in the Bonghwajae area is a thrust (or reverse‐slip shear zone). This thrust is presumably a relay structure (i.e. a restraining bend) between two segments of a continental transform fault (the South Korean Tectonic Line or SKTL), along which the Okcheon Basin of the South China Craton was juxtaposed against the Taebaeksan Basin of the North China Craton during the Permian–Triassic suturing of the two cratons.
In the late Proterozoic, sedimentation was initiated in basins of the Korean Peninsula, accompanied by deposition of siliciclastic and volcaniclastic sediments as well as carbonates. The massifs were submerged in the Early Paleozoic during a greenhouse period, forming a shallow marine platform and associated environments.
The Cambrian-Ordovician succession unconformably overlies Precambrian granite gneiss. It consists of mixed carbonate-siliciclastic rocks of sandstone, shale, and shallow-marine carbonates. Sedimentation was initiated in the Early Cambrian with a global rise in sea level on the stable craton of the Sino-Korean Block.
There was a major break in sedimentation during the Silurian and Devonian periods in the entire platform. During the Carboniferous to early Triassic, sedimentation was resumed in coastal plain and swamp environments with progradation of deltas.
Major tectonic events were initiated in the Triassic when the South China Block collided with the Sino-Korean Block. The eastern part of the Sino-Korean Block rotated clockwise and moved southward relative to the South China Block along the SKTL.
In the Middle-Late Jurassic, orthogonal subduction of the paleo-Pacific plate under the Asian continent caused compression and thrust deformation. A number of piggyback basins formed along the thrust faults in the east of the SKTL. At the same time, the entire peninsula was prevailed by granite batholiths, especially along the northeast-southwest-trending tectonic belt.
In the Cretaceous Period, the paleo-Pacific Plate subducted northward under the Asian continent, forming numerous extensional (left-lateral strike-slip) basins in the southern part of the peninsula and the Yellow Sea. A large back-arc basin was initiated in the southeastern part.
In the Paleogene, both the volcanic arc and the back-arc basin ceased to develop, as volcanic activities shifted eastward, accompanied by a rollback of the subduction of the Pacific plate. In the Miocene, pull-apart (right-lateral) basins formed in the eastern continental margin.
The Korea Plateau experienced continental rifting accompanied by extensive volcanism during the extensional opening of the southern offshore basin. It subsided more than 1000 m below sea level.
So, as South Korea was mix- mastered by a half-a-billion years’ worth of structural tectonism, which created several depositional basins quite capable of generating and storing economic quantities of oil and gas, the scene to the north was much more quiescent.
The North was composed, from south to north, of the relict Imjingang Belt, which was an old back-arc basin between the Gyeonggi Massif to the south and the Nagrim Massif to the north. It is a paleo-subduction zone, full of volcanics, volcaniclastics and other non-hydrocarbon bearing rocks. It was mashed and metamorphosed, and basically forms a convenient boundary between the complex geology of the South and the more relaxed geology of the North.
Heading north, we come across the Pyeongnam Basin, the only North Korean basin thus far defined that could contain hydrocarbons. Further north is the huge Nangrim Massif. It’s a huge block of igneous and metamorphic rocks that weather very nicely and form some spectacular scenery, but from an oil and gas economic outlook are worthless.
Offshore North Korea, there are two possible petroliferous basins. The offshore West Korea Bay Basin and East Sea Basin, along with five onshore basins could be offering exploration potential. At least ten exploration wells have been drilled in the West Sea, with some showing “good oil shows” along with the identification of a number of potential reservoirs.
The West Sea potentially has oil and has reportedly flowed oil at reasonable rates from at least two exploration wells when they were drilled and tested in the 1980s. Meanwhile, the East Sea has seen Russian exploration efforts previously including the drilling of two wells, both of which reportedly encountered encouraging shows of oil and gas.
Onshore, there has been little exploration to date, apart from efforts by the Korean Oil Exploration Corporation and also recently by Mongolia’s HBOil JSC (HBO). Among five main onshore sedimentary sub-basins, the largest is south of the capital; while unconfirmed reports point to a 1-trillion-cubic-foot (tcf) discovery in 2002.
Historically DPRK was thought to consist of five under-explored geological basins, the
• Pyongyang,
• Zaeryong,
• Anju-Onchon,
• Gilju-Myongchon and
• Sinuiju, Basins.
These basins are all located more or less along the coast, rather than inland. This also points to a certain degree of geological aptitude; as it’s much easier to explore along the more populated coast than it is to venture inland. There may be more hiding in the interior of the country, it’s just that no one’s looked as of yet. That’s difficult. Exploring along the coast is much easier.
With 3 basins supposedly proven to have working petroleum systems; 22 wells have been drilled and the majority are said to have encountered hydrocarbons with some wells testing production at 75 barrels of oil per day of light sweet crude oil. This has yet to be documented or confirmed by the Korea Oil Exploration Corp (KOEC), North Korea’s state-run oil company.
Yeah, our work was definitely cut out for us.
It was decided that a series of excursions offshore in one of the few remaining seaworthy, which was a real judgment call, KOEC seismic boats would be appropriate. The one we received use of was an old, decommissioned Chamsuri-class patrol boat, one Chamsuri-215(참수리-215), PKMR-215 in particular.
It had been basically stripped to the gunwales and completely retrofitted as a seismic acquisition and recording vessel. It had been renamed: “조선 민주주의 인민 공화국 영광” or “Glory of Democratic People's Republic of Korea Science”.
In reality, it was an aging rust-bucket piece of shit that might have possibly seen better days but wasn’t letting on. All the military nonsense, except the powder magazine, had been removed and a new superstructure consisting of slap-dash hunks of poorly-welded low-carbon, cold-rolled steel were erected to form a pilothouse in the area where the bridge once existed. They also built, extra haphazardly, a shooter’s room, galley, cold and wet storage areas, recording room, and storage of tapes and the extra bits and pieces needed for a none-too-extended stay on the sea. It was, being charitable, almost utilitarian.
They could not make their own water, so trip times were limited to about three days in length. Besides, they didn’t really have a hot galley, so it was cold, canned Chinese chow for the next 72 hours. They had a couple of fairly sturdy yardarms with heavy winches to handle the towed seismic arrays of geophones, which were of ancient heritage and showed it. These were probably appropriated back in the 80s or perhaps earlier when they first thought about opening their waters for seismic exploration.
They ‘borrowed’ most of the sensing and recording equipment back then from oilfield service companies and simply forgot to return it once finished. Since they burned that bridge so glowingly, they couldn’t get parts nor service when things failed. Being delicate seismic sensing and recording equipment, fail they did.
So, we had to use what was leftover, or what DPRK industries could cobble together, or what could be salvaged from salt-water drenched recording equipment that hadn’t been too heavily cared for over the span of the last 50 years.
We weren’t terribly optimistic.
So, we load the good ship ‘Rorrypop’, as Viv christened the thing, and head out to the wilds of the Yellow Sea. It was an abbreviated foreign crew, as there was really nothing other than upchuck and curse me soundly for insisting the non-geophysical scientists came along.
Aboard were the two geophysicists, naturally; Volna and Activ. I was there stick-handling the logistics and hoping to help out with the geophysical signal source explosives.
Morse and Cliff, the two other geologists accompanied us on the trip, and Dax decided to go with me as he figured I’d have access to the best booze no matter where we went.
The remainder of the team, the geochemists, Erlan and Ivan, the geomechanic, Iskren, the PT, Joon, and the two REs, Viv and Grako, remained behind onshore at the hotel. They set forth cataloging what data was available; from what sources, it’s vintage, veracity, and usefulness.
Augean tasks, both. Not as fecaliferous as Hercules’ jobs, but still, they held their own rations of shit for each sub-team.
Heading seaward, the Yellow Sea extends by about 960 km (600 mi) from north to south and about 700 km (430 mi) from east to west; it has an area of approximately 380,000 km² (150,000 mi²⁾ and a volume of about 17,000 km³ (4,100 mi^3).[4] Its depth is only 44 m (144 ft) on average, with a maximum of 152 m (499 ft). The sea is a flooded section of the continental shelf that formed during the Late Pleistocene (some 10,000 years ago) as sea levels rose 120 m (390 ft) to their current levels. The depth gradually increases from north to south. The sea bottom and shores are dominated by sand and silt brought by the rivers through the Bohai Sea and the Yalu River. These deposits, together with sand storms are responsible for the yellowish color of the water referenced in the sea's name.
Being shallow, the Yellow Sea is more perturbed by the frequent seasonal storms of the region. The area has cold, dry winters with strong northerly monsoons blowing from late November to April. I was told that the summers are wet and warm with frequent typhoons between June and October; but now all we had to contend with were swelling seas, spraying saltwater, waggling waves, and a shivering, shimmying ship.
All the navigation, communications and other shiply duties were being handled by both members of the DPRK Coast Guard Auxiliary, mostly older guys who were of great and high humorous jest; and an actual pleasure to be around. They were like their scientific cadre on this cruise, basically a political ‘give a shit’ attitude, and a desire to get the job done, smoke the American’s cigars and drink as much as we could get away with.
The scientific portion of the cruise was being undertaken by students of the various universities and members of the North Korean national oil company. The demeanors of these characters ranged from extremely earnest and stringently North Korean politically correct in the students and academicians, to a more relaxed ‘yeah, let’s just get the fucking job done so we can have a lot of drinks’ sort of view of the older members of the DPRK scientific team.
It was a fun admixture of cultures, ages, professions, and behaviors.
Oh, forgive me for forgetting to mention our ‘guides’, or handlers. They were also chosen, nay, ordered to come along. Landlubbers all, they were less than thrilled with the assignment and inevitable seasickness; which seemed endemic to those of Oriental extraction on the cruise. However, our guides did enjoy drinking. As we learned that alcohol is a central part of Korean culture, and they encouraged us to socialize with them when the time was appropriate.
Or, not appropriate, as I was being denounced by one of the geophysical students after only a few hours into our very first day. Hell, we weren’t even in the Yellow Sea proper. We started here at Pyongyang, down the Taedong River, over the Giva Dam, through Pushover, across Shmoeland, to the stronghold of Shmoe; into the very belly of the frothing Yellow Sea.
Most everyone, other than the foreign elements on board, were either making the trip in the bowels of the ship; nursing and cursing seasickness; or by rail, doing exactly the same thing.
“Chum it over the side, ya’ blinkered mucker!”, I admonished one bottle-greenish national. “This ain’t the Captain‘s mess, Chuckles. You have to clean up your own spew!”
I was reveling in getting back out on the water and regaining my sea legs. I never get seasick.
Never.
Ever.
Be it a seismic vessel in the heaving Arctic Ocean, a pirogue in the swamps of Louisiana, my cousin’s fishin’ johnboat back in northern Baja Canada, a US nuclear submarine under the permanent pack ice of the North Pole, or VLCC in the Straits of Somaliland; I just don’t get seasick.
Airsick? Nah. Carsick? Nope. Ready to puke in a Hind-20 over the Caspian Sea during a strong local thunderstorm? Close, but no cigar.
So, I’m doing a Titanic scene recreation. Up in the very bow of the craft, standing in stark defiance of the gusting winds and blowing salt spray, smoking a huge cigar, and totting out of one of my emergency flasks while trying to hang on to my Stetson. I am also endeavoring to remain upright, field vest and really, really ghastly Hawaiian shirt billowing in the breeze.
I’m not certain if it was the cigar smoke, the wind-whipped beard, and hair, the give a fuck attitude, or the flapping of the Hawaiian shirt to which the little local geophysicist objected. But he was pissed. Olive-green with seasickness, rubber-kneed but still standing a good social-distance away, reading me the riot act in high-pitched Korean.
As I usually do in such delicate situations, I just smile and wave. Show them I’m mostly harmless and they either cool down or get pissed off even more and stomp off in disgust.
Either one was a winning situation for me in my book.
So, I return to doing my ship’s figurehead imitation and revel in the wind, spray, and feeling of really being booming. Sure, some might complain of the cold, but not me, the sting of the salt-spray or the windburn; but I eschew what most people enjoy as ‘normal weather’. I live for pushing the boundaries. I love rough weather and situations that thrust the edge of the envelope further past normalcy.
Besides, we were still in sight of land. Hell, if everything went south at this very minute, one could practically walk back to shore. I can hardly wait to see what these wigglers will do if a night storm comes up when were 100 or more kilometers from land.
The boat’s thrumming heavily from both the thrust of the Soviet-era diesel engines and the craft’s bludgeoning its way through the waves. Most hull designs are so the ship will ‘cut’ through the surface waters. This craft’s flattened trihedral hull design didn’t so much ‘cut’, as ‘slam’ it’s way through. The boat would then crash up one side and smash down the other of each large wave we encountered. The boat would shudder whole, adding a new note of resonance along with the monotonous one-note song of the aged Russian diesels.
The spray would fly, the boat would convulse, time would seem to freeze until we bashed into the next wave. The captain of the vessel took his orders very seriously. “Get to coordinates XXX and YYY by the most expedient means possible.” If that meant charging, full-throttle into the teeth of the oncoming monsoon-force wind while we were traversing the worst kelp jungle I’ve seen this side of the Sargasso Sea; well, piss on it, full steam ahead.
“Fuck it”, I thought, “Not my pony, not my show. Let’s see how this plays out.” While I light a new cigar and search for Emergency Flask #2.
After I’d been upbraided by the geophysical student for transgressions still unknown, Cliff and Dax wander out to ask me what the hell I was up to.
“Have you gone completely barmy?”, Cliff asked. “It’s a full gale out here and you’re standing in the teeth of it like it was a warm, sunny Sunday in Piccadilly.”
“Nope, not at all”, I replied, “Just reveling in the delights of an angry atmosphere.”
“He’s nuts, I told you”, Dax smirked, “He’d go anywhere and do anything to have a cigar.”
“Not just a cigar, me old mucker”, I smiled and waved my second emergency flack under his nose.
“Figures”, they both respond in unison.
Dax departs and returns mere seconds later with paper Dixie-style cups he liberated from the ship’s one head. We are going to do our very best to extend the lifetime of the onboard water supply for our scientific and military friends. I pour them each a cup full.
“Whoa, Doc”, that’s gotta be 100 milliliters!” Cliff objects.
“As the Siberian saying goes: One hundred versts, roughly a hundred miles, is no distance. A hundred rubles isn't worthwhile money. And a hundred grams of vodka just makes you thirsty. Prosit!” I say in reply.
We retire to the overhang on the fantail of the boat. It’s a sunshade and keeps the worst of the weather out for the lightweights on the cruise. I decided we’d withdraw there to keep these Dominionites out of the worst of the wind and sea spray.
“Rock”, Cliff notes, “You are a complete throwback. You do not belong here in the 21st century. You need to find a way back to the Calabrian and ride herd on the continental Neanderthals. Give them the gift of distilling and tobacco agriculture, and you’d reframe the world.”
Dax agrees, but notes if I do find a way back, he and Cliff would be selected against.
“Good point”, Cliff agrees. “Rock, stay here. We need your expertise now more than ever. Plus your ready supply of strong drink and cigars.”
“Glad to know that I’m truly appreciated around these parts.” I chuckled slightly acridly.
“Ah, Rock. Buck up. You know we’re only takin’ a piss.” Cliff says.
“Aim it starboard. Don’t want it blowin’ all over the seismic gear”, I reply, laughingly.
The trip continued, and I found a not-bolted-to-the-deck chair and moved it outside under the shade back by the boat’s fantail. I refreshed my emergency flasks and replenished my cigar supply. I’m not about to sit inside and listen to the wails and gnashing of teeth of the landlubber crowd, the patter and timor of the geophysical throng as they titter and argue about array design, nor the military hut-hutting all over the fucking boat.
A couple of times, one or more of our ‘handlers’ would venture out as I had the only supply of readily available smokeables and drinkables. Oh, we had food, lots of beer, soju, some knock-off vodka, and some of that faux homebrew bourbon for later once the workday was declared over; but for now, I was the one and only dispensary.
We’d have some random chats while they screwed up their courage to ask me for a smoke or a tot of drink. I brought several bundles of really cheap-ass cigars for just such occasions; besides, I figured one of my Camacho triple-maduros would have them chumming for the remainder of the trip. I had also many, many cartons of Sobranie pastel-colored cigarettes, and many more cartons of knock-off Marlboros I bought at the duty-free when we hit town.
It was chucklingly funny to see these harsh, military, no-nonsense characters walking their duty beats smoking pastel green, lavender, and mauve cigarettes.
We got bogged down a couple of times when one or more of the ship’s twin screws fouled with kelp as we tried to put some distance between us and the shore. Each time, one really dejected low-ranking young Coast Guard character would go over the side with a rope around his waist and a knife in his hand to free the props. I was going to object as this was moronically dangerous; but, again, not my pony, not my show. This called for full proper tethering and SCUBA gear.
They had neither aboard.
Welcome to the wonders of a centrally planned economy.
To be continued.

Sometimes I look back at life in my village when I was a child growing up in the 80s and wonder how the violence have gotten so out of control in my country.
Mexico always had violence in one form or another but over the past ten years, it just seems to have massed out into something ugly and evil, which has in turn attracted things that are also ugly and evil.
I'm a police officer in the western Michoacan state of Mexico. I've been an officer since I was 18, when I saw firsthand how badly the violence between warring cartels were affecting life and services in my community.
If my superiors find out that I posted this, my police career will be over and I will be facing criminal charges, but the public has a right to know what's out there and realise what weapons the cartels now have at their disposal.
I'm in my thirties now and even though I'm still relatively young, I've been through a lot and have seen a lot. Everything from surviving a kidnapping from some Sicarios, to being shot during a firefight. On one occasion I even saw one of my senior officers die when his car blew up after he refused to accept a bribe from the local Jefe.
It's a bloody job in an unforgiving country, and being on the frontline as part of the "Unidad de Inteligencia Narco" or the police Narco Intelligence Unit, meant that I had to gather intelligence and monitor all things relating to the cartels from an uncomfortably close vantage point. Many times our operations often totter on the brink of legality as we are ordered to perform surveillance and spy on suspected narcos without a warrant.
Contrary to what you might see in movies like Sicario and documentaries from Vice and Al Jazeera, foot soldiers like myself have remakably limited technology. With the exception of our police issue HK USP pistol, a couple short wave radios and a camera or two, that was it as far as equipment is concerned, having said that you can imagine our difficulty in gathering accurate intelligence on these assholes on a RadioShack budget.
It was dangerous work with little chance of back up or any kind of reinforcements if caught, but besides the constant fear of being made, it was pretty boring stuff. A lot of taking pictures, looking through a pair of binoculars and taking notes, all within the confines of a small SUV or a greasy apartment.
Because of budget cuts, only two officers at a time could be spared for any given intelligence assignment, which could take days, sometimes even weeks. So we would have to take turns sleeping.
The assignment that changed it all happened less than a week after I was appointed to the Unit. I was assigned to monitor the activities of a family we suspected were working with the Jalisco cartel in moving the drugs and protecting it at various stash houses in the Uruapan area.
I was assigned to a more seasoned officer for this assignment, let's call him, 'Ernesto', he has been in the service for almost twenty years and was around to see a string of nasty executions and car-bombings in the early 2000s, so it's safe to say it took a lot to shake him.
He was a large man and didn't speak much except to give me instructions every now and again.
Ernesto was a senior member of the Unit, but still went on assignments like these to guide younger officers like myself. He held a lot of weight in our police department and I really wanted to move up in law enforcement, maybe even make Chief Commissioner one day, so making a good first impression on this assignment was my first priority.
The house we were monitoring was a lavish white marble, mansion in a rural part of the town of Tiamba.
Surrounded by mud huts, haciendas and small two-storey dwellings, the house stood out like a sore thumb, amidst the houses in the slums.
Looking at this sprawling castle made me stick to my stomach, thinking of all the blood and tears it took to build it, how a group of people had no problem paying for their luxuries and opulence with other people's suffering.
Ernesto told me the family patriarch, Jose Aguinaldo operated under the guise of a self-made dried goods merchant for years and despite repeated arrests, nothing ever stuck.
He lived in that mansion with his 35-year-old former beauty queen wife, Lorissa and two children, ages 8 and 10.
There were unconfirmed reports of a grandmother also living somewhere on the premises, but no one had ever seen her.
We got to Tiamba just before the sun started to set and parked our pissy SUV in one of the many winding side, streets just opposite the mansion.
"Get the camera out the back and set it up. Sources say they receive most of the goods after dark so lets try and get something small."
I did as told and set up the camera. We sat in the car about ten meters away from the house and for most of the night, everything seemed calm.
At around 7 pm we saw a man in his fifties we identified as Jose the ringleader, walking a little, frail old woman who I reasoned was his grandmother along the top balcony. He seemed to be talking to her, but we could only try and read his lips. On looking closer we realised something off about the old woman. The skin on her face didn't seem to match the skin tone of her neck and arms.
I zoomed in on the camera to see that she was wearing a traditional Aztec mask. It was weird, I tried to reason it that he knew he was being monitored by the police and didn't want her identity being revealed, or perhaps known to another cartel, who were very likely doing the same thing we were doing.
It still didn't make sense though, if we or someone else stormed the house we would eventually find out who grandma was, but Ernesto told me not to think too much about it.
"These guys are very superstitious. They have all kinds of weird traditions and rituals they do to try and keep them safe." He said as he scrolled through his phone.
"Do you believe in any of that sir?" I asked.
He paused before answering, as if he needed to think of some sanitised answer instead of the truth.
"No... that's a bunch of foolishness." he mumbled without looking at me.
I thought it was strange, he had to pause before answering such a simple question, but he was a man of few words so I just dismissed it at that.
We sat in the Hilux for about three more hours I took the time to observe how quiet and deserted the streets were in this part of town. A stray dog passed right in front of us but no other signs of light on the street, which was strange because just a few miles away there was a bustling nightlife with clubs, restaurants and casinos.
Not this part though, this area was a veritable ghost town, no sights and no sounds, everyone tucked away in their beds.
That was before the screaming began.
Ernesto was asleep but quickly awoke when it started.
"Is it an attack?" He asked groggily still half asleep.
"It doesn't seem like one. I didn't hear any gunfire or explosions... what should we do?"
Ernesto looked at his watch and contemplated. We didn't have the numbers or the firepower to stop an attack from a rival cartel on Aguinaldo's house. Even if we did... should we? The man was a piece of donkey shit and Ernesto said it himself that he had been tried the legal way... better to let the dogs take care of the dogs... but he still had innocent children inside that house, they didn't do anything to anyone.
The screaming continued for about five more minutes, when it stopped just as abruptly as it began.
Ernesto and I exchanged curious glances, wondering what to do next. We called it in to the officers on the night desk but they seemed less than excited about the incident.
"Maybe they were torturing someone..." I said hesitantly.
I looked to Ernesto for guidance but he also seemed genuinely perplexed by the episode, "Na, they have places for things like that. Remember these people are middle men at best, they don't have the influence or power to do some shit like that in the same place they are stashing drugs." He said.
"So what now?" I asked.
He looked back at his watch.
"It's almost midnight. If anything happens between then and now call it in again and let me talk to them."
I sat there studying the marble structure which almost seemed to glow under the moonlight in the darkness. My mind began running on all different kinds of things that could be going on in that house. Maybe they really were torturing someone, maybe a rival cartel really did attack them, if that's the case how come we didn't see anyone drive on or escape.
Along with my these theories my mind wandered back to the old woman wearing the mask. What was her role in all of this, was she some cocaine godmother like Griselda Blanco in Colombia, or was she just another victim of her grandson's business?
Then it dawned on me that Aguinaldo was in his early fifties, which meant if that was his grandmother we saw on the balcony this evening, she would have to be in her nineties, at least.
I drifted off to sleep while thinking of these things only to be shaken awake by Ernesto next to me. Before I could ask him what was wrong I could hear the screaming again. It was shrill, almost feminine in quality but it had an eerie pitch to it that seemed to shake the rickety SUV we were sitting in.
I scanned the mansion for the source of the noise when Ernesto pointed a single shaking finger up to the balcony and that's when I saw one of them.
It was tall, covered in pale, sagging skin, at first I thought it was the grandmother again, but looking through the nightvision binoculars I could see it wasn't... The thing... whatever it was stood about eight feet tall and had a broad smile across its face with large eyes and pupils and a disproportionately long neck. In another light it might have looked like a funny caricature of someone, but it wasn't funny at all.
I looked at Ernesto and he raised his index finger to his lip, as he drew his pistol.
Whatever it was it didn't see us in the shadows of the alley where we were parked, as it released another bloodcurdling scream from it's throat.
It made me shake to my core, just looking at this abomination made me want to pull my own eyes out. What the hell was this thing?
Eventually I saw it walk back inside the house, through the doorway to the balcony. Bending it's long neck to fit inside.
"What the fuck was that?" I croaked, still shaken from the ordeal.
"I... I don't know..." Ernesto said shakily. This is the most scared I had ever seen him. Seeing a tough old bird like Ernesto on edge made me feel insecure, I was looking to him for security and guidance.
I was about to radio in for help when I heard gunfire and explosions inside the house.
"We can't sit out here all night," I said.
"They won't believe us.... I just saw that thing for myself and I wouldn't believe us..." Ernesto replied.
The screams continued but there were human screams mixed in as well. Children's screams.
Without thinking I opened the door and darted towards the mansion's doors, leaving Ernesto in the passenger's side seat.
In hindsight it was a stupid decision, an inexperienced police officer, armed with a pistol, storming this house without knowing exactly what I was going to see on the other side.
I shot through the fancy glass designs on the front door and kicked it in. There goes the element of surprise I thought.
Entering through the living room was like taking a step into a museum after hours. Despite the lights being off, I saw a lot of statues and masks from the pre-Columbian era along with white statues of what I thought were Catholic saints. The furniture was totally destroyed as the entire living room and waiting areas looked as if they had been ransacked.
What the fuck was I doing? Am I really going to walk through this house trying to save a drug pusher like Aguinaldo. But he wasn't my priority, it was his children I was really concerned about.
I could feel beads of sweat forming on my brow just as I heard another shrill scream from upstairs. I was hoping by now Ernesto would have been behind me but he was still nowhere to be seen.
I sighed as I walked up the spiral staircase, with pistol in hand as I walked into the second storey corridor and into hell itself. The white walls were stained red with blood as I saw the small body of a child discarded at one end, still wearing her pyjamas. The shrill screams were coming from what I imagine was the master bedroom.
Did I really want to see more of this? I had to do something.
I turned the corner and saw the thing, looking directly at me, his eyes seemed to stab at my soul, they were yellow and looked like human eyes. BUt there was no humanity inside of them before it began grinning. I raised my own pistol and started firing at it as it charged me from one end of the corridor.
Before it could reach me I burst into what I thought was one of the children's bedrooms and locked the door behind me. There was no way I could outrun that thing. Maybe I wounded it and it would go away. I could hear it's banging on the door outside and knew it would not hold for much longer.
I turned to try and find another door or window to crawl out of but that's when I saw another one... I gasped as I laid eyes on it, but this wasn't like the entity I saw in the corridor outside, This one was fat, bloated and naked, with a bald head he lay on the child's bed giggling like a little girl, covered from head to toe in blood. I thought it was a man, but this thing was over eight feet tall, even lying down I could tell.
With small eyes and a broad smile.
I couldn't stand looking at it.... it was so upsetting, even lying down I could tell it was huge, just a mass of flesh, as it licked its lips and smacked loudly.
It's black, pig-like eyes met mine as it laughed even louder and said in an eerie almost, feminine voice,
"Another one? I wasn't expecting you, but I want you too..." as it grunted trying to get up to it's feet, but I quickly ran past it, and threw myself outside the window and onto the roof.
I felt pain stabbing through my forehead and face as shards of broken glass dug deep into my flesh.
What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to be away from those... demons....
Before I could gather my hand, a long, red chubby hand stretched out of the broken window and swiped for me, as I darted back and fell off the roof on my back.
More pain shot through my body as I lay on my back unable to move. I felt something dragging me away as I slipped in and out od consciousness, I looked up and saw Ernesto, pulling me back in towards the shadows of the alley we were hiding in.
I tried to form wordsto explain what I saw, but Ernesto only shook his head from side to side and mouthed the words "Be quiet."
He shoved me into the passenger side seat of the SUV as he drove me away. Before passing out from the pain I remember looking back at the house to see the mansion explode.
I woke up a few days later at a military hospital a few miles south. No sooner had I woke up I was confronted on members of our intelligence gathering department who sat and transcribed everything I had witnessed and experienced from beginning to end.
I was also visited by senior officiers from our military intelligence unit and asked to sign documents restricting me from discussing any of the events experienced.
I was never given a full idea of what I saw exactly, at least not until Ernesto came to visit me a few days later.
I saw on the news the explosion at the house was blamed on the work of a rival cartel, but he explained he called in an air strike. Despite the short comings of our unit, we did maintain close communication with our air guard and said they dispatched a drone less than 30 minutes after he made the call.
"The fat man and the giraffe were both cooked" he said...
"What?" I replied
"That's what the top level people are calling them. We don't really know what they are. The bodies were taken away by a branch of the government I had never seen before."
"So they weren't demons?" I asked
"I don't know.... all I know is they were all burnt up when back up finally got here. I don't think I'm even supposed to be telling you this right now, but you risked your life for those children... you deserve to know what you were up against." He said hoarsely.
That's when I remembered.
"Whatever happened to the children?"
He paused for a while again before answering,
"Both killed, but not by the air strike. According to forensics they were killed before that... Parts of them are still missing. Jose, his wife, grandmother... all of them were found chewed up into this big heap of flesh in one of the rooms. It was awful."
Laying in that hospital bed, I realised my questions only led to more questions... what they hell were those things?
"I've been hearing about things like those when I was younger" Ernesto said breaking the silence.
"Since I was a child I heard about them. Lesser Gods the Aztecs used to worship. I heard they were real and lived in the plains and deserts but I never saw one... not until that night."
I couldn't believe anything he was saying, but then again what was the alternative? What other spin was there to this entire incident?
I could only sigh.
"I think the violence and the carnage going on is drawing them back out. They can smell it wherever they are hiding and coming out more open." He said.
"So what now? As if the cartels weren't bad enough we now have to deal with these... things?" I asked.
He studied my face before speaking,
"What now is you get better. Get better and we go out to fight again. Whoever... whatever."

My computer had a mini heart attack last night and I wasn't about to do this on a cellphone... So here's the latest happenings with a slight delay!
All my information comes from VisitIndiana so the list is not 100% comprehensive. If you know of anything that's missing, please post and share with everyone! If you've ever been to any of these events, or if you go this week, please share your experiences
Also be sure to visit the city-specific subreddits
This Week Only
Northwest Indiana

• Delphi

Ouibache Music Festival - July 27, 730-930pm, at Delphi Opera House. This quintet of locally grown musicians formed in 2000 celebrating American Roots music with a flair for jazz and anything else. Proceeds from the concert will benefit the missions of the Ouibache Music Festival and the Delphi Opera House

• Michigan City

Old Lighthouse Museum S.S. Eastland Memorial - July 27 at the Old Lighthouse Museum. At 11am, the 104th Anniversary Memorial of the S.S. Eastland will commence, Station Michigan City Coast Guard will place a wreath in Trail Creek where Indiana Transportations dock was located. Father Lev of the Holy Trinity Orthodox Church will say memorial prayers. Speakers will tell the horrific story of the Eastland tragedy. WEFM 95.9 live radio will be at the museum from 9am-noon. The museum will be open free of charge today only from noon-4pm.

Gatsby at the Gardens - July 27, 6-9pm, at Friendship Botanic Gardens. Step into a Great Gatsby Garden Party! Enjoy a speakeasy evening set in the 1920's. Stroll the gardens, sip some giggle water, play bocce or badminton or cut the rug while listening to live jazz. $45; 21+event

• Monticello

Main St. Tour & Taste of White - July 26, 500-1130pm, at Downtown Monticello. Concert-style music and delicious food/beverages. You won't want to miss this night of entertainment!

• New Carlisle

New Carlisle Hometown Days - July 26-28 at 300 E Michigan St. New Carlisle Hometown Days is a 3 day family fun-filled weekend. Friday night we offer fireworks, parade on Sat, car show, famous wiffleball contest, kiddie tractor pull, bouncy houses, games, various vendors, food and entertainment.

• Plymouth

Downtown Tractor Show - July 27, 8am-3pm, at 124 N. Michigan St. The streets of Downtown Plymouth will be filled with Tractors, Garden Tractors, Pedal Tractors and Hit-n-Miss Engines! There will also be food trucks with yummy treats to purchase. Autumn Leed and the River City Band will be playing from 12:00 pm til 2:00 pm. This is a FREE, family-friendly event!

• Rensselaer

Jasper County Fair - July 20-27 at the Jasper County Fairgrounds on State Road 114. The annual fair includes rides, games, demolition derby, food vendors, craft vendors and more!

• Whiting

U.S. Military All-Star Baseball Game - July 22, 7-10pm, at Oil City Stadium. The U.S. Military All-Stars will return to Northwest Indiana for a stop on this year’s Red, White & Blue Tour as they continue the mission of promoting the awareness of all Americans in support of the honorable sacrifices our armed forces make. The team is comprised of active duty servicemen from all branches of service around the world.

25th Annual Pierogi Fest - July 26-28 throughout Whiting. Taking place in Whiting, Indiana, Pierogi Fest® celebrates Eastern European food and culture with a wacky familial twist. Pierogi Fest® welcomes all to celebrate Eastern European heritage while poking a little fun at the same time.

• Valparaiso

Festival of Magic - July 26-28 at the Aftermath Cidery and Winery. Join Aftermath Cidery and Winery for a family-friendly trip to everyone's favorite boarding school! Visit all locations on your map to complete the scavenger hunt and win a prize: Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, King's Cross, the Leaky Barrel, and more! Each location will offer both Adult Potions and drinks for Little Wizards and Witches

Northeast Indiana

• Angola

Park-inn Movies: The Sandlot - July 25, 930-1130pm, at Potawatomi Inn. Bring your blanket or lawn chair to the lawn overlooking Lake James. Admission is free to Inn Guests, Campground Guests and with paid admission to Pokagon State Park. (Weather Permitting).

• Auburn

Auburn Downtown Cruise-In - July 25, 530-800pm, at Courthouse Square. Join classic car enthusiasts around Courthouse Square downtown. See restored cars and other special vehicles of interest at this free event. Bring your family and stroll the streets, shop, have dinner in one of our local restaurants. There will be door prizes and a Crew's Choice Award for the most popular car. All show vehicles should arrive no earlier than 5:30 pm. Please enter at the corner of 7th & Cedar in order to check in and receive registration forms. All Cruise In's are held in Downtown Auburn around the square (Cedar, 9th, and Main.)

• Berne

Berne Swiss Days - July 25-27 throughout Berne. The Swiss Day Celebration is a time for Berne to share it’s heritage with authentic Swiss costume, great food, craft vendors and merchandise. Residents and visitors alike enjoy the friendly competitions for all ages. From the 5K race to Big Wheel Competition for the younger ones to the Steintoss, there is something for everyone. On stage and around the festival you can hear Swiss music. Watch as couples dance the polka to live music on stage.

• Fort Wayne

Allen County Fair - July 23-28 at the Allen County Fairgrounds. We welcome families to the 30th Annual Allen County Fair July 23rd to July 28th at the Allen County Fairgrounds, located off Carroll Road in Fort Wayne, Indiana. The 2019 Allen County Fair is home to Allen County 4-H and features many animal shows, projects and events throughout the week. In addition to 4-H festivities, the fair offers a full food court, carnival rides, and lengthily list of family-fun events. Highlighted events include: free ice cream social, hot air balloon fight/glow, 4X4 truck pull, demo derbies, kids day, live music, peddle truck races and much more.

Fort Wayne Pride Fest - July 26-27 at Headwaters Park. The two day event features live entertainment, vendor market, a beer tent, food plaza, workshops, tournaments, KidSpace and fun with the community! There are a variety of opportunities available for businesses and individuals who are looking to support Pride in the Fort including sponsorship, vendors, and volunteering. Pride is committed to bringing events throughout the year to build a stronger LGBTQ community outside of the festival. Check out our events page for more info.

Colonial America on the Frontier - July 27-28, 10am-6pm, at The Old Fort. Enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of the American Revolution at Fort Wayne’s Historic Old Fort. The Continental Army and British forces will be on hand to provide live demonstrations throughout the day on period specific artillery and military maneuvers. Re-enactors will also bring to life the daily activities of this time period through demonstrations on period cooking, gardening, blacksmithing, and much more! The Fort will be open to the public: 10:00 a.m. – 6:00 p.m. on Saturday, July 27, and 10:00 a.m. – 4:00 p.m. on Sunday, July 28. Tours of the Fort will be offered throughout the weekend.

• Goshen

Elkhart County 4-H Fair - July 19-27 at the Elkhart County 4-H Fairgrounds. he fair hosts nationally known musical artists during their 5-night concert series. A sanctioned rodeo, PPL tractor pull, and demolition derby are also highlighted at the free grandstand during fair week. Bring your appetite and explore famous food row. With more than 70 food stands, the fair takes pride in offering mouth-watering, once-a-year, fair favorites. Over 3,000 4-H livestock and more than 4,000 4-H still exhibits are shown during the 9-day event. Daily entertainment can be been found on every corner of the grounds, with multiple shows and exhibits included with your gate admission. Thrill seekers of all ages will want to visit the mid-way, complete with roller coasters, games and kiddie rides for the young fairgoers.

• LaGrange

Amishland and Lakes Bicycle Tour - July 27-28, 6am-1pm, at Lakeland High School. Amishland and Lakes, based at Lakeland High School in LaGrange, Indiana, visits a world where lifestyles have remained almost unchanged for over a hundred years. One of the friendliest rides around, you’ll enjoy seeing and meeting families, women’s groups, regional cycling clubs, and tandem pairs who tell us they love our routes because they are so “tandem friendly.” There are wide open spaces, clean country air, friendly people and lots of great food. There is plenty to explore, experience and eat. Amishland and Lakes is famous for great SAG food (watermelons, peaches, blueberries, bananas, fresh baked cookies and more), and there are also Amish bakeries, restaurants and homemade ice cream parlors along the route. The routes range from 22 to 100 miles, offering smooth, quiet roads, where buggies are numerous and cars are few (both days begin and end at the High School). We also offer directions for a do-it-yourself Friday option to ride the Pumpkinvine Nature Trail. Camping is available at the 4-H Fairgrounds across from our start location. For more details go to http://amishlandandlakes.com

• North Webster

11th Annual Dixie Day Festival and Arts & Craft Fair - July 27, 8am-5pm, at 102 S. Morton St. The Dixie Day festival honors the landmark sternwheel paddle boat. It also encourages everyone to visit North Webster. The Dixie Boat has been cruising Webster Lake every summer since 1929 and attracted more than 13,000 riders last season. Dixie Day Festival is a dream come true with a list of activities and events that continue to grow. Extra Dixie cruises will be added for Saturday afternoon of the festival as well as the regular evening cruises. What to expect: North Webster Fire Department Pancake/sausage breakfast - 7am until out, Arts and Craft fair- 10a- 4p, 5K Run like a Pirate/Walk like a Captain, Car, truck, and bike show 10a-3pm, Boat show- 8am-4pm, Delicious food trucks, Tractor Show 10a-3p, and Ride the Dixie Sternwheel on beautiful Webster Lake.

• Shipshewana

Lauren Talley - July 23, 7-9pm, at the Blue Gate Theatre. Showtime: 7:00pm | Doors Open: 6:30pm Prices: Tickets Only - $19.95 | Dinner and Theater - $37.95

The Taylors - July 25, 7-9pm, at the Blue Gate Theatre. Showtime: 7:00pm | Doors Open: 6:30pm Prices: Tickets Only - $19.95 | Dinner and Theater - $37.95

Legacy Five - July 26-27, 7-9pm, at the Blue Gate Theatre. Showtime: 7:00pm | Doors Open: 6:30pm Prices: Tickets Only - $39.95 | Dinner and Theater - $57.95

Central Indiana

• Carmel

SetonFest - July 25-27, 6-10pm, at St. Elizabeth Seton Catholic Church. SetonFest is a three-day festival that includes carnival rides, a different band each night, food, bingo, a casino, beer garden and more. Free parking and free admission.

• Fishers

2019 Topgolf Tour - July 22, 6-11pm, at Topgolf Fishers. Team up, play and earn your way to Las Vegas and $50,000. There are 19 Regional Tournaments at Topgolf locations across the US, UK, and Australia, between June 18 and August 14. Playing a variety of Topgolf signature games that test strategy and accuracy, two-person teams compete against one another for a spot at the Topgolf Tour Championships in Las Vegas, with full VIP treatment. Only one team from each Regional Tournament makes it through to compete for the glory and a life changing prize. WHAT'S INCLUDED Entry into Topgolf Tour Regional Tournament, Minimum 2.5 hours of game play, Hot buffet, Official Topgolf Tour Insulated Water Bottle, $5 donation to Bunkers in Baghdad from every US player registration.

• Frankfort

25th Annual Frankfort Hot Dog Festival - July 26-27 at Prairie Creek Park. Indiana's largest two-day hot dog festival features vendors, family fun, hot dog eating contests, dachshund races and HOT DOGS!

• Gas City

Gas City Concerts in the Park Presents Keith Anderson - July 23, 7pm, at Gas City Park. This is a FREE concert brought to you by the Gas City Concerts in the Park committee.

Gas City Concerts in the Park Presents The Park Avenue Band - July 26, 7pm, at Gas City Park. This is a FREE concert brought to you by the Gas City Concerts in the Park committee

• Indianapolis

Indy Shorts International Film Festival - July 25-28, 10am-10pm, at the Indianapolis Museum of Art at Newfields. The Indy Shorts International Film Festival, presented by Heartland Film and the organizers of the Heartland International Film Festival (HIFF), is an Academy Award®-qualifying fest dedicated to the art of short film! Last summer, Indy Shorts expanded as its own separate event from HIFF, becoming the largest short film festival in the Midwest - showcasing storytelling from around the world. All winners (Grand Prize and Audience Choice Awards) will play encore screenings at HIFF in October 2019. General ticket info at https://heartlandfilm.org/indyshorts/.

Athenaeum Soireé: An Affair on the Ave - July 25, 630-900pm, at Athenaeum Foundation, 401 East Michigan St. The Athenaeum Soireé: An Affair on the Ave is an annual fundraiser featuring pairings of culinary creations and delicious handcrafted beverages from local establishments as well as live entertainment, silent auctions and more at this business casual, 21+ indoor event.

7th Annual Iron Eagle Paddle & Run - July 27, 8am-6pm, at Eagle Creek Park. Athletes of all ages can explore Eagle Creek Park, one of the nation’s largest city parks, via land and water alternating between trail runs and a canoe/kayak leg. Starting at the beach, the race consists of a 2.5-mile trail run, 1.5-mile paddle and 2.5-mile trail run back to the beach. Participants can enter as an individual or 2-person team. They have the option to bring personal kayaks or canoes with life jackets and paddles, or rent a boat in advance from Eagle Creek Outfitters. Spectators are more than welcome to come show support. Awards will be presented to the top solo female, the top solo male, the top team and the top relay team. An after party will be held post-race at the Earth Discovery Center. 100% of proceeds benefit the Eagle Creek Park Foundation. To Register: Visit EagleCreekPark.org

• Kokomo

RhumFest 2019 - July 27, 2-10pm, at Kokomo Arts Pavilion in Foster Park. Enjoy live music by local students and instructors of Rhum Academy of Music in Kokomo. Free admission. Bring everyone for a family-friendly day of great music, art, food, and fun in Foster Park. With back-to-back performances in a variety of styles and genres all day you are sure to hear some music you love!

• Lafayette

Tippecanoe County 4-H Fair - July 20-27 at the Tippecanoe County Fairgrounds. All phases of agriculture, 4-H exhibits, wide variety of youth activities, carnival rides, games and mouth watering fair food.

Tuesday on the Trail Nature Walk - July 23, 6-7pm, at the Haan Museum of Indiana Art. Get a closer look at nature as a guide leads you on an educational walk along our Nature Trail. The trail is about a mile long loop in the Museum’s three acre woods making it feel very much like a wilderness experience in the middle of town. Meet at the Nature Trail Entrance located at the south side of the Carriage house just off the parking lot. Fee: FREE

• Mooresville

Bicentennial Park Summer Concert: Random Reaction - July 27, 7-9pm, at Bicentennial Park. Located at the corner of Indiana and Main Streets, the park is convenient to local restaurants to enjoy before the show. Popular local group Random Reaction will take the stage on July 27. Live music begins at 7 pm; bring your lawn chairs or blankets. Free.

• Portland

47th Annual Vintage Motorbike Show - July 24-28 at the Jay County Fairgrounds. The LARGEST vintage motor bike show in the USA. Join us to reminisce the Simplex, Mustang, Whizzer, Cushman motorbikes and more! $5 admission fee per person/per day charged at the Fairground's front gate. Gates open at 6 AM daily.

Southern Indiana

• Brownstown

Jackson County Fair - July 22-28 at the Jackson County Fairgrounds. The Jackson County Fair is the biggest and best! Still a free fair, find building after building of exhibits, visit barns, enjoy the midway and delicious food. Great grandstand events and racing!

• Corydon

Bluegrass on the Square - July 27, 4-8pm, at Historic Downtown Corydon. Since its inception in 2003, Bluegrass on the Square has featured some of the most well-known Bluegrass musicians in the region. Now in its 16th year. All concerts are free and open to the public. July 27 features Hog Operation and Ida Clare

• Floyds Knobs

Master Gardeners and 4-H Llamas & Alpacas Club - July 27, 800am-1230pm, at 400 Block Laffollette Station. Join us for Two Special Events;; Master Gardeners will be a the Market answering your Gardening questions and Floyd County 4H Club will be bringing the Alpacas & Llamas.

• Lincoln City

Purple Veins: a tribute to Prince - July 27, 630-900pm, at Lincoln Amphitheatre. Purple Veins aim to re-create the magical power and energy of a classic Prince show circa 1985: an all-out dance party with relentless funk, all the hits, tasty lesser-known classics, theatrical elements, and dance choreography woven into it. Their aim is to be all-inclusive, with an age range of 18 to 40 and multiple ethnicities within the band..to both reach his music to millennials who didn’t live through it and transport those that did back in time to their younger days. With a charismatic and soulful frontman, a huge ensemble (16 plus!) of the funkiest cats, sultriest singers, and hottest dancers Wisconsin has to offer, Purple Veins is THE tribute show of all Prince tributes.

• Moores Hill

Country Roads Shop Hop - July 25-28, 10am-5pm, at Country Roads of Dearborn and Ripley Counties. Six Antique, Vintage and/or Home Decor shops will be combining forces to give you an unforgettable shopping week, with the chance to win big in the process! You can start and end at whichever shop you would like. Get your brochure stamped at each location and you’ll be entered to win our Grand Prize Drawing, $150 in gift certificates! ($25 from each participating shop) * Must be 18 yrs or older to be entered and Limit 1 per family* No purchase is necessary to receive a stamp, but it will be difficult not to purchase anything when you see what these amazing shops have to offer! Are you ready for some Antique, Vintage or Home Decor shopping and hopping? Hop all over the country roads and visit each participating shop! The Greenbriar Shop - Guilford, IN, The White Swan - Moores Hill, IN, The Blue Willow House - Dillsboro, IN, The Rustic Nail - Dillsboro, IN, The Whistle Stop - Milan, IN, The Huntington Carriage House - Milan, IN.

• Spencer

Wild Women's Hike - July 27, 10am-12pm, at McCormick's Creek State Park, 250 McCormick's Creek Park Rd. All are welcome to join us for the monthly DNK hike at McCormick's Creek State Park! The hike is free, but there is an entrance fee to get into the park. We'll be meeting at the Wolf Cave Parking area for about a 2-mile hike. Click here for the park map: https://www.in.gov/dnparklake/files/mccormicks_creek_trail.pdf Can't wait to hit the trail with you!

ONGOING EVENTS
Northwest Indiana

• Chesterton

Chesterton's European Market - Saturdays May through October at Third St and Broadway, Downtown Chesterton. An outdoor family/artisanal market held in historic downtown Chesterton from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m.

• Gary

Gary Southshore Railcats at U.S. Steel Yard - Various days at US Steel Yard. A day at U.S. Steel yard is non-stop fun, and that's even without the baseball! The RailCats promise a wide array of laugh-out-loud between inning entertainment, great giveaways , jaw-dropping fireworks and a family-first, kid-friendly atmosphere!

Miller Woods Hike Sundays - Every Sunday at Miller Woods. The hike starts at the National Lakeshore's Paul H. Douglas Center and travels through varied habitats including rare and beautiful black oak savanna and offers incredible views of Lake Michigan and Chicago. Wear sturdy shoes and bring water and insect repellent. This hike is offered every Sunday from 1:30 to 3:30pm.

• Hammond

61: An Exhibit Celebrating the 61st National Park - July 2 - Sep 21 at the Indiana Welcome Center, 7770 Corinne Dr. The 6,500-square-foot exhibit hall will be transformed to represent the 15,000 acres of diverse landscapes and highlight activities available to those that visit the park system. The exhibit will feature 12 trail stops. There will be interactive exhibits for children along the trail, selfie stations and a large “sandbox” for building sandcastles. Visitors will also have the opportunity to learn about the 1,100 native plant species, rare and migrating birds, as well as recreational opportunities like camping, hiking, kayaking and cross-country skiing. Interactive activities will also give children a chance to become a Junior Ranger!

• Hobart

Summer Market on the Lake - Thursdays through the end of August at Festival Park, 111 E Old Ridge Road. Come enjoy outdoor shopping featuring fresh produce, baked goods, ethnic and gourmet foods, beer garden, local live entertainment, jewelry, handmade crafts and so much more.

• LaPorte

LaPorte Farmer's Market - Saturdays July through the end of October at Monroe St and Lincoln Way. The LaPorte Farmer's Market strives to build and strengthen the local food movement in LaPorte by showcasing our region's bounty and economic opportunities locally.

• Logansport

Summer Sundown Music Series - Sundays May through August. Bring the lawn chairs or blankets and enjoy Sunday evenings listening to a different musical artist each week. Each Sunday evening you will find yourself at a different park with new musical artist. Check online to see where and who will be appearing!

• Michigan City

Michigan City Municipal Band Concerts - Thursdays in June, July, and August, at the Washington Park Guy Foreman Amphitheater. Experience free live musical performances under the stars near the shores of Lake Michigan in Washington Park. Seating available or bring your own chair. June-August, Thursdays 7:30pm.

Light Keeper Harriet Colfax Month - July 1-31, 1-4pm, at Old Lighthouse Museum, 100 Heisman Harbor Rd. Harriet Colfax came into the 1858 Light House in 1861 an served faithfully until her retirement in 1904. Learn more about his Great Lakes legend all month long. The Michigan City Historical Society commissioned a color portrait of Harriet by local artist Wendy Wilcox Kerman. Come and view the portrait and enjoy the historic museum and don't forget to browse the gift shop.

Michigan City's Farmers Markets - Saturdays July - October at 801 S Washington St. and 1500 Franklin St. Saturdays through October 26th, 2019. Michigan City's Farmers Market aims to provide our community with the freshest produce, providing a space filled with locally grown food and artisan goods

• Portage

Market on the Square - Fridays June through August, 3-9pm, at Founders Square. There will be over 20 vendors selling unique crafts, fresh produce, honey, flowers, breads and jams. Plus local food vendors selling food. Bands from the region will begin at 6. Then to top off the evening we will have a family movie at dusk.

• South Bend

Keepers of the Fire: The Pokagon Band of Potawatomi - April 2019 to January 2020 at The History Museum. The rich history, culture, and art of the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi is shared in this vibrant exhibit about the thriving community. Through interviews and oral histories, sculpture and beadwork, art and artifacts, the exhibit immerses visitors in the traditions and teachings of the Pokagon Band.

South Bend Cubs at Four Winds Field - Various days at Four Winds Field. The South Bend Cubs are the Class A minor league affiliate of the World Series Champion Chicago Cubs. Over the past 30 seasons, the team has won five Midwest League titles and has captured 12 division titles. In 2015 the team was named Ballpark Digest's Team of the Year and received the John H. Johnson President's Award, the highest award in minor league baseball.

The Dinner Detective Murder Mystery Show - May 4th 2019 to May 2nd 2020, 6-9pm, at the DoubleTree by Hilton. America’s largest interactive murder mystery dinner show! The Dinner Detective provides a hilarious evening of murder mystery, a 4-course meal, and a prize package for the top sleuth. Just beware, the killer might be sitting right next to you!

Northeast Indiana

• Fort Wayne

Fort Wayne TinCaps at Parkview Field - Various days at Parkview Field. The TinCaps are entering their 10th season at Parkview Field, which has been rated as Minor League Baseball's No. 1 Ballpark Experience four consecutive years.

• Middlebury

Faces of Middlebury - May 17th to October 4th throughout Middlebury. Grab your cameras and the map to locate each “face of Middlebury” and insert your face for the perfect picture. Free maps are available at local businesses and organizations. Post your pics on Middlebury Then & Now’s Facebook page or on Instagram using #facesofmiddlebury. Can you find all of them, up to 30 "faces"?

Gangsters, Saloons and Buggies on Roofs Guided Tour - May 29th to September 25th at the Downtown Middlebury library. You wouldn't know Middlebury had a rough-and-tumble past, but behind today's modern facades lie tales of small-town mischief, hoods on the lam and possible mysterious passageways. Get the inside story and secrets from a local with this tour of downtown. Tours are offered at 10am every Wednesday and at 630pm the first Tuesday of each month. Walking tour is approximately 1 hour. Allow time after the tour to visit the unique shops and restaurants in the area. $5 Group tours are available by advanced reservation (call 574.825.5601)

Giant Toadstools and the World's Fair Guided Walking Tour - May 30th to September 26th at the Krider World's Fair Garden. Enjoy a guided tour through living history! The Krider family of Middlebury once captured the imagination of the world. This tour of the garden that bears their name opens a window to the family's nursery at the height of its creative powers. The beauty will take your breath away, just as it did at the Chicago World's Fair in 1933. Tours are offered at 10am every Thursday and at 630pm the first Tuesday of each month. Walking tour is approximately 1 hour. Allow time after the tour to visit the museum, unique shops and restaurants in the area. $5 Group tours are available by advanced reservation (call 574.825.5601)

• Shipshewanna

A Simple Sanctuary, the new musical - March 28th to October 31st at the Blue Gate Theatre. She prayed the day would never come, but when her past comes calling, Melissa James has no choice but to flee. Pursued and living on the run, she finds desperate sanctuary and surprising friendship in Amish country. Part suspense, part romance, A Simple Sanctuary is a compelling story of love tested, the cost of freedom, and the solace found in true community.

Shipshewana Flea Market - Tuesdays and Wednesdays from May through September, 8am-4pm, at the Shipshewana Auction. Nearly 700 open-air booths on 40 acres await you at the Midwest’s Largest Flea Market. Food courts, restrooms, scooter rentals and rest areas are on site. Open rain or shine. Also open for Memorial Day, 4th of July, Labor Day, and new weekend markets on August 16-17 (MotheDaughter Days). Antique Auctions are every Wednesday inside the Antique & Miscellaneous building.

Shipshewana Breakfast Club - Fridays in July and August, 830-1100am, at the Blue Gate Theatre. Breakfast: 8:30am | Program: 10:00am Price: $26.00 - Includes Breakfast and Show These concerts will be held at the Blue Gate Theatre July 12 - Lynda Randle July 19 - Allison Speer July 26 - The Taylors Aug 2 - King's Brass Aug 9 - Doug Anderson Aug 16 - Old Time Preacher's Quartet Aug 23 - Soul'd Out Quartet Aug 30 - TBA

Central Indiana

• Fishers

Kroger Symphony on the Prairie - Saturdays and Sundays at Conner Prairie. The Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra's summer series provides music from classical, pop, and rock genres from mid-June through Labor Day weekend. See performance schedule online indianapolissymphony.org

• Hamilton County

Celebrate the 10th Year of Tenderloin Tuesdays - Tuesdays in July throughout Hamilton County. Celebrating the 10th year, dine along the Tenderloin Trail™. Don’t miss Tenderloin Tuesdays™ in July along the tastiest trail. Each Tuesday restaurants offer special deals on the Hoosier delicacy. For a complete list of participating restaurants in Carmel, Fishers, Noblesville, Westfield and Northern Hamilton County, visit TenderloinTrail.com.

• Indianapolis

Hot Wheels: Race to Win - May 18th to July 28th at The Childrens Museum of Indianapolis. Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines and hold on tight as we open our Hot Wheels: Race to Win exhibit celebrating speed, safety, design, and power. Get revved up for the special performances, activities, and the occasional pit stop.

Treasures of Ancient Greece exhibit - Jun 15 to Jan 5 at The Childrens Museum of Indianapolis. This once-in-a-lifetime immersive exhibition brings to Indianapolis more than 150 ancient objects and artifacts, many of which have never been seen outside of Greece. The ancient Greeks revered the human body, and many of the depictions are nude. Featured are bronze and marble statues, gold jewelry and funerary objects, exquisite pottery, artifacts of the world’s first democracy, and an extraordinary replica of the Antikythera Mechanism, known as the world’s first computer.

Mind Tripping Show - March 1st to December 28th, 8:30-10PM at the Hilton Indianapolis Hotel and Suites. Mind Tripping: a Comedy with a Psychological Twist is an interactive show by Christian & Katalina, the #1 Husband and Wife Comedy Mind Reading Act in the Nation. Be a part of a mind-bending, reality-twisting interactive theatrical show. Think Candid Camera meets the Twilight Zone. Be prepared to have your perceptions challenged and your expectations turned upside down

Naturally Inspired Art Exhibition - May 24th to August 21st at The Indianapolis Zoo. After the paintings have dried and been professionally framed by The Great Frame Up Downtown, they are displayed for the summer in the Schaefer Rotunda at White River Gardens. Plus, you also get to enjoy the works of some of our more artistically inclined animals. Who knows — you may see a penguin Picasso, a walrus Warhol, an elephant Escher and many others! The Naturally Inspired Art Show presented by The Great Frame Up Downtown is included with Zoo admission.

Nickelodeon’s PAW Patrol Adventure Play - February 23 to July 28th at The Children's Museum of Indianapolis. The hero pups of Adventure Bay are coming to The Children’s Museum, and they need your help. It’s time to run some rescue missions, as we work together to overcome challenges and help everyone in Adventure Bay. Enter the Lookout. Save the Day in Adventure Bay. Be a Helping Hero on Jake’s Mountain.

The National Bank of Indianapolis Summer Nights Film Series - Various days June-August, at The Amphitheater. You can watch movies under the stars every weekend at Newfields. Doors open at 7 pm, when you can enjoy a picnic dinner, music, and activities, followed by that night’s movie, which will begin when twilight turns to night (usually 9:30 pm). Over the summer, over 20 movies will be shown—everything from black-and-white classics to modern blockbusters. All you need is a picnic (with non-alcoholic beverages only), chairs (for the back row of each tier), and blankets (in case the chair row is full). You will also want sunscreen and bugspray. No alcohol, pets, candles taller than 12 inches, or knives permitted. And if you want to travel light with just a chair and blanket, concessions will be available to purchase. Check out discovernewfields.org/summer-nights-2019 to see available films and to purchase tickets once they are available.

Zoolapalooza Concert Series - Fridays in June and July, 530-830pm, at the Indianapolis Zoo. Under the Bicentennial Pavilion, this incredibly fun night out is a great way to kick off summer weekends on Friday evenings with terrific live music. Concerts are free for members and included with Zoo admission, so you can play all day and dance all night! Seating under the Bicentennial Pavilion includes open tables on a first-come, first-serve basis

The Generous Pour at The Capital Grille, July 8 - Sep 1, 5-9pm, at 40 W. Washington Street. The Capital Grille’s annual The Generous Pour wine event has returned for its eleventh year. This year’s theme is Legends of the Land, where guests can sip on any combination of seven select wines including the Maggy Hawk 2015 Pinot Noir, the 2015 Cenyth Red Blend, and the Arrowood 2013 Red Blend. Each is from California’s Jackson Family that tell a unique story of origin and sustainability. From July 8th through September 1, 2019, guests are offered a customized wine tasting paired with the restaurant’s classic menu items, including hand-carved steaks and fresh seafood and appetizers with a flavorful twist for $28 per person with dinner.

• Kokomo

First Friday Kokomo - First Friday of every month, 530-9pm, at Downtown Kokomo. Activities include art, music, food, local vendors, shops, entertainment, kid's activities & much more! Visit their Facebook page for monthly themes and schedule of all activities!

Kokomo Jackrabbits at Kokomo Municipal Stadium - Various days at the Kokomo Municipal Stadium. Enjoy a day at the ballpark! The Kokomo Jackrabbits baseball team are members of the summer collegiate Prospect League. Games are held late May through early August and feature fun themes and giveaways. Lawn and stadium seating available, starting at $8.

• Lafayette

Karl Martz and the Legacy of IU Ceramics - May 4th to July 27th, 1-4pm, at the Haan Museum of Indiana Art. Martz’s influence spread throughout Indiana and beyond through the ceramics program that he established at IU in 1945, and through his students. Many of Martz’s students went on to teach at universities, and others established successful careers as independent ceramic artists. The exhibition features works by Karl Martz, faculty that taught (or still teach) in the IU Ceramics Department, and students who went on to establish successful careers in ceramics.

• Richmond

Summer Story Hour - Mondays, 10-11am, at the Physical Building of the Joseph Moore Museum. Join us each Monday in June and July at 10am for a special hour of stories! Each week will feature a different book about nature or science with a corresponding craft or activity. All ages are welcome and stories are chosen particularly for children in preschool - first grade.

• Westfield

Indianapolis Colts 2019 Training Camp - July 25 - Aug 15 at the Grand Park Sports Campus. Join us at the Indianapolis Colts 2019 Training Camp! Every day you can enjoy watching practice, giveaways, food & drink specials, interactive games, and more. Download your free tickets at www.colts.com/camp.

Southern Indiana

• Birdseye

Wildlife Cruises on Patoka Lake - Wednesdays May through October at the Patoka Lake Marina. Not just a boat ride: cruise the second largest lake in Indiana upon a climate controlled tour boat to search for osprey, eagles, blue herons, loons and other wildlife. Two hour cruises embark EVERY WEDNESDAY at 10am beginning in May and continuing through October. Voyagers are encouraged to capture on camera baby osprey in their nests, an eagle in flight, and busy beavers as the boat passes by.

Wine Cruises on Patoka Lake - Every other Friday starting June 7th, 730-930pm, at the Patoka Lake Marina. Sip wine paired with hors d'oeuvres/desserts while enjoying the sunset on Patoka Lake on our 60 person tour boat! Enjoy 5-7 tastings of wine from a featured Indiana winery, and choose 2 glasses of your favorite to enjoy after the tasting portion. Bottles of wine available for purchase as well as additional glasses. Call (812) 685-2203 to reserve your spot today! Only $50/person or $98/couple. Visit our website to view the winery lineup.

• Clarksville

Shrek the Musical - July 3rd - Aug 18th, 6-10pm, at the Derby Dinner Playhouse. Somebody once told me everyone’s favorite ogre is back in the hilarious and twisted adventure based on the Oscar-winning smash hit film. Follow this unlikely green hero on a life-changing journey full of romance and dozens of zany misfit characters. The perfect show for any age! Ticket price includes dinner, show, tax & parking. AAA discount available.

• Evansville

Evansville Otters at Bosse Field - Various days at Bosse Field. Locally owned and a member of the Frontier League, the Otters are the darlings of summer. Great ball play combined with fun promotions throughout the game guarantee an evening of fun family entertainment. To top it off, the games are played at Bosse Field, a stadium built in 1915 and the site of the filming of "A League of Their Own" in 1992. Come watch our Boys of Summer from May through August!

• Floyds Knobs

Floyds Knobs Farmers Market - Saturdays May through October at 400 Block Laffollette Station. Floyds Knobs Farmers Market Opening May 11 - October 26 Every Saturday from 8:30 am to 1 pm. Were an Indiana Grown Market and host a variety of Great Events throughout Season.

• French Lick

The Art of the Monon - April 1st to August 31st, 10am-4pm at the French Lick West Baden Museum. The Monon was Indiana’s railroad and touched every town in Orange County. See the Monon paintings of renowned railroad artist Howard Fogg and other rare Monon items.

• Huntingburg

Dubois County Bombers at League Stadium - Various days at the League Stadium. League Stadium was home to the Rockford Peaches in the hit movie A League of Their Own. The vintage signage, scoreboard, and atmosphere remain. The Bombers play in vintage-inspired uniforms - pants are knickered, stirrups are worn. The crack of a wood bat against a baseball resounds through the stadium. You may hear Who’s on First over the audio. We even have our own Peaches at the games keeping everything in the stadium rolling, while our coaches and players keep it exciting on the field.

• Rising Sun

Rock on Rising Sun - April 10th to September 30th on Main Street. Search and re-hide painted rocks hidden within the City of Rising Sun city limits. Spearheaded by a local resident, thousands of rocks are painted throughout the season for kids of all ages to find and re-hide. Participants are encouraged to paint their own creations and hide within the city limits. Photos of found rocks are asked to be uploaded to the Rock on Rising Sun