STORYLINE

Greg Iona: Restored From Backup

This was not how I imagined my day would start. She says her name is Saraphim, and that the world as we know it is gone. She says something about backups, and Ambassador class accounts and some other stuff, but my head is spinning. My body feels strange. I turn around and recognize where I am for the first time and can’t quite believe it. She’s telling the truth. I’m about half a mile away from the veil station. Everything is ruined.

I realize I’m saying “What happened,” over and over again. She keeps telling me, but I can’t process it yet. It’s over 60 years later, but I don’t remember anything about…the veils fractured!?. She says she restored me from backup. I must have died. I don’t remember dying. I’m not even sure that I’m really me. I don’t know what I’d think if I was a religious man. She says there’s lots more people waiting and needs me to walk around, make sure my body is working correctly. She wants me to see what I can find and if there’s any survivors. I look around. My eyes hurt, but I see something in the distance. It’s a beached whale and there’s someone near it. I start walking.

The smell is almost over powering. I get close and see that there’s actually someone inside the body cavity and more people around. It’s some kind of bar. There’s a sign that says “Rita’s Refreshments”. They stare at me as I walk up. I take a seat on a stool. “We’re all out of Scrimshawberry,” the woman says before pushing a glass of something greenish blue at me. She says it’s 10 rai, but I don’t have whatever that is, and I give her my hat instead. They call the drink Whalmanimal. My mouth rejects the liquid as soon as it touches my tongue; it’s awful but my fellow patrons seem to like it. They compliment my clothes and ask if I want to sell or trade them and if I’m from Pu’u. I tell them no to both.

I ask if the DLNR came out to talk to her about the whale. She gives me a strange look and says she’s not interested in selling. I realize I haven’t heard an engine yet, seen a boat, or watched a drone fly by. I’m not sure what I can do here. I was once appointed to study the effects of 127 on the native flora and fauna. I think I can do the most good by looking around the beach and forest to assess the fracture’s impact the environment. My body is feeling better despite the fact that the first thing I had to drink in close to a century was this murky swill.

After a few miles of walking, I find a gigantic banyan tree, at least twice the size it should be. Everything else seems normal at first. I find ohi’a and rattlesnake plants and watch a red-crested cardinal for a few minutes. I close my eyes and listen to the song of a saffron finch. Maybe nature withstood the fracture better than people did. I walk a few more hours in the forest when I see them, and I stop dead in my tracks .

There’s three of them, whatever they are. I assume the two facing off and circling are males fighting for the attention of the less colorful female. They look like wild pigs but are covered in some kind of carapace. Their eyes are on stalks like a crab or prawn. I can’t get over how shiny and colorful their shells are, they sparkle when the sun catches them just right. They just keep circling and occasionally butting heads. I don’t move because I don’t know if they’re dangerous. If this is what happened to the pigs, I don’t want to see what happened to the geese. There were many reports of them getting more aggressive back in my time. Who knows what they might be capable of now.

The sun will be down in a few hours. I decide to walk back to the whale and figure out where I’m going to sleep for the night when I hear a cry. I recognize it. It’s an axis deer alarm call, but it keeps going. Something has the deer scared. Despite my better judgement I walk towards the sound. The forest is very thick here, and fog is coming in, making it hard to see. The deer keeps calling and it sounds like I’m getting close. I stop to untangle some vines from around my boot when I feel him grab me. He puts his hand over my mouth and pulls me down. I start to fight back but he’s stronger. I turn my head and see that he has a finger up to his mouth, urging me to be quiet. I calm down and he points ahead.

I might have missed them if I was still walking. A pack of wolves is working their way across the ridge ahead. It’s hard to tell how many in the fog but it’s at least 6. The deer keeps calling and it sounds close now. The wolves look hungry and I turn to thank whoever this is. There isn’t much I could tell Saraphim from inside a wolf’s belly. That’s when I notice he’s still pointing at something else in the forest, just beyond the wolves.

I still don’t see anything, but the fog is really thick now and it sounds like the deer is only yards away. I notice the fog swirl a bit before I see it. It’s like the forest comes alive around the lead wolf. It’s a tangle of leaves, vines, and teeth. One of the wolves is hurled through the air and the rest run off. I watch it stand up in front of the pack leader. It’s a woman covered in leaves and vines. For a minute I think she’s wearing some kind of ghillie suit until I see the vines dig their way into the side of the wolf. I’m too scared to move. She leans over the animal and mimics a bird call as she feeds on him. I let out a gasp and she looks our way. She opens her mouth and lets out a deer call followed by a loud hissing noise. I don’t know if I stood up on my own or if he picked me up. I just remember running and screaming every time a vine hit my face.

His name is Laki and his people are called the Kanaka. The thing we ran from is a Green Lady, and from the way everyone looked at us when he told the story, we were lucky to make it back to the village alive. They ask me if I’m from Pu’u as well, but some seem happy when I tell them no. This is a strange place. I see people walking around with shark-toothed clubs and night vision goggles. I watch a group of them invoke the spirits to keep the green lady away and draw warnings in the sand before cooking their food in a flash oven. I listen a lot and say very little. I think that’s best until I figure out the situation. Laki says that he’ll take me to Pu’u in the morning, but for now I’m going to have a meal and try to get some rest. Here’s what I’ve learned so far. Being restored from backup makes your body tingle for a few hours, but everything seems to be working fine now. The power grid seems to be gone and working technology seems to be rare. Food and water must be scarce because people are drinking some sort of disgusting Manimal knock-off inside the body of a dead whale. Oh, and monsters are real now! It’s been a hell of a first day back, Saraphim.

STORYLINE

Re: Infringement of Trademark Rights of Manimal Sports Drinks

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Dear Lahaina Merchants Association

We represent the owners of trademark registration no. 11948372 here and in dimension ∃3.81.654729. Widespread use of the Manimal trademark has been made, to the extent that this trademark has acquired an extensive reputation and goodwill throughout existence. The Manimal trademark is, accordingly, also a well-known mark for all relevant purposes of trademark law.

It has come to our attention that you are using the Whalanimal “Benthic Blue” and Whalanimal “Scrimshawberry” trademark. This trademark is confusingly and/or deceptively similar to our Manimal trademark and also constitutes a reproduction or imitation thereof.

In this circumstance, your use of the Whalanimal “Benthic Blue” and Whalanimal “Scrimshawberry” trademark will constitute an infringement of our registered and common law rights.

As such, we seek relief. We demand that you immediately:

  1. Cease all use of the trademark Whalanimal “Benthic Blue” and Whalanimal “Scrimshawberry”; or agree to our licensing terms. They are quite reasonable and we are willing to barter. We hold non-perishable food stuffs, bottled water, medical supplies, and ammunition at a premium.

  2. Deliver-up for destruction all material to which the Whalanimal “Benthic Blue” and Whalanimal “Scrimshawberry” trademark or any other mark confusingly or deceptively similar to our trademark has been applied. The Manimal brand is synonymous with health, vitality, vigor, and an active lifestyle. Your dubious flavors and bizarre filtration methods are harmful to the image that our clients have carefully cultivated. Furthermore, the lack of proper government health and safety oversight in the production of your “drink” exposes the public to significant dangers.

  3. Withdraw, cancel and/or delete any corporate names, domain names, trademark applications and/or trademark registrations for or including the Whalanimal “Benthic Blue” and Whalanimal “Scrimshawberry” trademark. Whales are beautiful and intelligent creatures that many revere. It is also illegal to hunt many species. We understand that at least one of your “brewing” whales is of a protected species. Your are exposing yourself to quite severe penalties and associating our clients with a practice that many would find abhorrent or distasteful. On a more personal note, I find the name of your product disgusting. I would be willing to provide you with a professional and experienced marketing specialist at a reasonable fee. Again, we are willing to barter for your potential new brand specialist.

  4. Undertake, in writing, never in future to make any use of the Whalanimal “Benthic Blue” and Whalanimal “Scrimshawberry” trademark without prior written authority from us, whether within any corporate name, trading name, trading style, domain name or otherwise.

You may be foolish enough to think that we do not have jurisdiction in your area or that you are beyond our reach and/or ability to enforce this claim. That would be a big mistake. While you’ve been spending your time figuring out how to make drinks inside of dead animals and stealing intellectual property, we have been planning. We’ve spent years in the executive mezzanine brainstorming about what we would do to people who choose to ignore our demands. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff that Phil’s come up with. Just thinking about it makes me shudder, and I’m a hard guy to shock. Don’t let this letter fool you. We aren’t the kind of law firm that relies solely on procedures and motions. It would be wise and healthier for you not to elicit any further action on our part.

We await to hear from you by no later than close of business on November 4, 2115. This is written without prejudice to our rights, all of which are hereby expressly reserved.

Yours faithfully,

Kurt Bickley

STORYLINE

We’re Launching the First New Manimal Product in Almost a Century

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Over 95 years ago the cure for thirst was discovered and Manimal was introduced to the public. Perhaps the most recognized brand in the world, Manimal dominated the sports drink market up to the fracture and beyond. The popular beverage could be found in almost every kitchen and the company hosted numerous competitive events worldwide. Even today, the drink remains one of the most sought-after items on the island because of its amazing rehydration properties, excellent packaging, and amazing shelf life.

It’s been 90 years since the company released its last line of products. Manimal spray promised those brave enough to use it, “Instant Maximum Hydration” and was a modest success for the company. Plagued with a number of lawsuits and government inquiries, time caught up to the company and it was never able to release another formula before the great accident but thanks to the help of our fellow Merchant Association member Rita Olu’olu that is about to change.

Rita’s Refreshments has been one of the most popular stops for a beverage for years. Her understanding of flavors and eye for branding has made her shop a top earner since she opened. Her “Turtle Juice” was the surprise hit of last year’s Lava Sledding Championships and won her many fans. Now, with our help, Rita is set to unveil her very own line of Manimal drinks.

Brewed inside the remains of a whale, 100% natural, and offering drinkers a “Lahaina sleigh ride to refreshment”. Whalanimal is available in 2 taste-bud-busting flavors: Benthic Blue and Scrimshawberry, the beverage is sure to change the way visitors battle thirst across the island.

The genesis of Whalanimal is a whale of a tale that our research shows is best left untold. While the unique process of brewing and mixing inside a cetacean carcass provides a perfectly safe and surprisingly delicious product, it remains distasteful to a large number of potential customers. If pressed on details we’ve found it best to avoid focusing on specific aspects of the process. Instead, let the taste and effects of the product breach any walls of doubt your patron might have.

The creation of Whalanimal is no fluke. We’ve worked for months with Rita to create a drink that not only lives up to the high expectations set by the original but blows a hole in them. Powered by the sun, and fortified with nutrients from deep inside the animal, this Manimal packs a whale of a boost. Our baleen to canteen filtration system ensures a quality product free of the large particles one might expect in a naturally brewed sports drink.

I know some of you have expressed concerns that we may have swallowed more than we could chew by trying to reboot the Manimal franchise. All I ask is that you give it a try. I could sit here all day blubbering about how excited I am, but words can’t describe the jolt you get after your first taste of Whalanimal.

Don’t leave your customers stranded on thirsty shores. Place your orders now. Once people learn that they can “Live like a Manimal” again without the fear of running out, the demand is sure to be high. Whales are known as the monarchs of the sea, and this new beverage is sure to become the king of refreshments.

STORYLINE

It’s working….

The green island couldn’t hold us! We managed to reboot, albeit not in our own bodies oddly, onto Lahaina today. The island is beautiful, but of course we’d rather be in Seattle. I haven’t tracked down the reason for any of this yet. All we know is that something went wrong, and we’re only now starting to be able to reboot.

More as we know more! For the others of you in your own purgatory, you should be able to see this. We’re working on making communication between the islands possible, but until then, keep reading up and if you are technical or somehow a former employee of VCorp, find a way to let us know! Post in your terminal, tag it with ‘#wtfuture’ and we’ll maybe find you. For some reason it seems VeilCorp used the veil itself to transfer data and updates to its own systems, so it seems all dimensions all share the same permissions. So if you are, like me, Cliff Able, that’s not so strange and maybe you can help me help yourself!

Also: If you are able to reboot, be careful. There’s a lot of disease and … some people didn’t come out okay, or were stuck in the LPZ for the last 50 years. I don’t know how they survived, but they did. They don’t look normal, but some of them are pretty good, very welcoming.

STORYLINE

Lokelani: The Green Girl of Launiupoko Point

Of all the dangers in the forest, the most dangerous might be the green ladies. Whether they are feeding on a family, catching the unwary in the forest, or hunting a group of explorers, trying to make a better life for their people, there are lots of tales about them. One of my favorites is the story of the green girl Lokelani. Like all good stories it teaches you a lesson, that everyone gets to decide how they want to act when they grow up, even monsters.

The green girl didn’t know what she was, where she was, or that it was strange that she was born alone. She just knew that she was hungry, very hungry! She was the last of her garden-mates to leave her pod, a real late bloomer. Months before, her sisters left their birthing garden, and set out into the forest together to find food. Green ladies aren’t known to work in groups, but when they first blossom they usually travel together until they hunt down a good meal, and get a lay of the land. This little one was alone. Left to find food by herself.

Almost as soon as she heard the bird, she was mimicking its song. The first tasted good, but it was very small, and didn’t have much fluid inside. She drained over a dozen before her hunger began to subside. Over the next few months she studied the animals, copied their calls, learned how they acted, and where they ate and drink.

She soon learned that the birds along the beach were bigger and had more blood to drink, but were out in the open, a dangerous place for a little green girl to be. She watched how some of the other predators hunted, and she didn’t like what she saw. The wolves would chase terrified prey for hours sometimes, before dragging it down and ripping out the soft parts. The boars would bite the legs of deer and let the wounds fester before finishing off the sick animals days later. Her way was much better.

When she hunted something, it didn’t even know she was there before it was too late. She respected and honored everything she ate by draining it quickly, and making reassuring noises as she drank. She knew the sounds of every animal in forest or so she thought, until one day she spotted something she had never seen before, people.

At first she thought there were only two, one slightly smaller than she was, and a big one who was budding. It was only when the bud began to cry that she realized that the smallest was actually riding inside some sort of carrier. In some ways they looked like her. They had arms and legs, but they were a strange color and their head vines looked thin and weak. They were very careless to be out in the open, and making so much noise. She watched them pick up shells and shark teeth and put them in a bag. She wondered what they planned on doing with them. She knew from experience that you couldn’t eat them, even though they came from living things, they held no blood. She wondered what these strange animals where and what they tasted like, but she knew better than to leave the safety of the forest during the day. She would wait and watch.

After an hour or so the Kanaka girl walked towards the trees and the green girl’s vines shook in anticipation. Finally, she would get to see what these strange animals tasted like. She watched her weak legs, clumsily work their way through the sand. She couldn’t believe how loud and slow it was. Maybe something was wrong with it. Maybe it was sick. The green girl was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice that the Kanaka girl was looking right at her.

“I’m Ana,” it said. The green girl filled the air with a welcoming smell. “You smell like lokelani flowers. Is that your name?” asked the Kanka girl. Lokelani reached out and touched the girls arm. It was so soft that she knew she couldn’t drain this little thing, it just wouldn’t be right. There was much healthier game to be had. “I have to go but we’ll be back tomorrow if you want to play,” said the girl before she ran back towards her mother.

That night, as she gorged herself on a particularly large boar, Lokelani wondered why she hadn’t at least tasted the Kanaka girl. It would have been easy enough, but there was something about the way she had talked to her that she liked. None of the other animals had ever talked to her before. They just squealed, screamed, or chirped. She liked being talked to. She hoped she would see the strange little thing again.

That spring, the little girl and Lokelani became friends. The Kanaka girl would sneak to the forest many times a week while her mother collected things on the beach along Launiupoko Point. The girl told Lokelani about her people’s legends, stories of bravery, love, and sacrifice. They played hide and seek even though the Kanaka girl was terrible at it; she couldn’t even change the tint of her skin. Lokelani learned a lot about the little girl and her people, but wondered how they managed to survive.

One day, soon after the girl had left, Lokelani heard the mother scream, and she moved through trees to investigate. She saw that a bear was attacking the mother as her friend stood paralyzed with fear. Lokelani couldn’t believe how lucky she was! She’d heard countless stories about how tough the Kanaka were, and now she’d get to see it in person. However, things weren’t going well. Instead of cracking the bear’s skull with a newa club, or driving a spear into the beast’s chest, the mother was being mauled, and Lokelani knew her friend would be next.

Bears were big, and she normally wouldn’t have tried to take one on, but it was distracted, and there was something about the situation that made Lokelani feel strange. A burning sensation was building up inside her that she didn’t understand. She was mad, and she would make the bear pay for attacking such helpless creatures. Lokelani unleashed her fury on the bear before it knew what was happening. By the time it understood how much danger it was in, it was too late.

Lokelani had no idea she could be so full when it was over. She watched the wary mother make a splint for her injured leg, and mimicked her friends laughter in an attempt to reassure her, as she helped the mother to her feet. Despite her nature, the spirit of Aloha had taken over Lokelani’s cold green heart. She realized that the Kanaka’s power didn’t come from claws, teeth, great strength, or speed. Their power came from each other, and by helping them she had gained something that no Green Lady had ever had. She had friends, and that was a powerful thing indeed. In exchange for friendship, Lokelani would protect all the Kanaka around Launiupoko Point, and so it was until the little girl’s grandchildren grew into old women.

Akamai Mahelona
6th Grade
Pu`u School Lahaina

STORYLINE

Sergeant Kaua’s War Academy Announces Youth Program

For years you’ve known Sgt. Kaua’s War Academy as the premier hand-to-hand combat academy and school of battle on the island. The academy has deep roots and a long history. Colonel Kaua fought alongside the legendary Kānaka chief Ikaika at the battle of Black Reach Beach, helping to make the island safer. Sergeant Kaua took a lifetime of his father’s battle philosophy and training to develop a system of combat that is unparalleled in its effectiveness. Now, he’s ready to pass on that knowledge to the next generation. For the first time ever, the War Academy will be accepting a limited number of child students.

Most combat and self-defense programs concentrate on the rigorous drilling of moves to perfect technique and complete focus, but not the total battle system. Without the unnecessary shackles of discipline holding your young one down, he or she will be able to grow into the perfect instrument of slaughter that you always knew they could be. Your child will not only be able to protect themselves and those around them, they will gain the confidence and know-how to charge heedlessly into their enemies and send them running.

“My father knew that the problem with plans is that they could always go wrong. Battle is a messy game and the rules are always changing. Without relying on tactics, I’ll teach your child the power of mindless battle. The shark isn’t the king of the reef because of its carefully thought-out stratagems and complex contingency plans. It bites and it bites in a frenzy. I’ll help your child roll back their eyes and channel their inner shark.”

The Sgt. will help your child unleash their personal volcano, and allow their vengeance to erupt on the battlefield. Our system will pinpoint the fury hiding deep within their psyche and teach them to harness it. Do you make them go to bed earlier than they like? Do they have a sibling that is constantly teasing them, or breaking their things? Maybe they have an unusual physical trait that other children make fun of. All of these can be harvested and transformed into a dish best served cold. The Sgt. has a way of helping you recognize things that you didn’t even know made you angry and amplifying them into a blackout rage. It’s hard for your enemies to foil your plan if you don’t have one. When obliterating the enemy is your only job you can get a lot of work done.

While we believe the cornerstone of any good instrument of war is the correct attitude, we also recognize that it is important to learn a few more practical skills as well. We will train them in the ancient Hawaiian art of Lua. Your offspring will learn to stop opponents by breaking bones, using pressure points, and more. We teach our students to be proficient in all three major weapons: pololu, newa, and koa axe. Guns jam and rust. Ammunition is expensive and untrustworthy. At the War Academy, we believe in getting our hands dirty. Your youngster will learn all three standard pololu thrusts deemed most effective in real-life combat situations. Their enemies won’t be able to do much when they’re spiked to the ground. If they can break a coconut they’ve got all the strength they need to harness the lessons learned in our advanced newa techniques. You’ll have a hard time telling if all that blood is theirs, or their partner’s when they begin the Sergeant’s patented koa axe dance. They’ll be chopping their way to victory in no time thanks to the Academy.

We strive to keep things simple, effective, and realistic to best simulate real-life situations. As such, there will be times that your child won’t have a standard weapon within hands reach so we believe in a rich improvised weapons curriculum. “Most people don’t realize that the average child’s bedroom contains at least 11 ways to die. Whether it be a pillowcase full of batteries, a well-placed spray of Manimal to the eyes, or the corner of a block to the temple, I’ll teach your kid how to shut down a threat in seconds and get back to their coloring.”

Iron sharpens iron and there’s no bigger piece of iron on the island than Sgt. Kaua. His father was a hero, and his campaigns have made him a modern-day legend. With years of warfare under his bloody belt, who better to teach your children the skills necessary to turn them into tiny terrors. Help us help them learn the lessons they need to survive. The world is a dangerous place. Let’s make your kids dangerous too. You owe it to them!

A limited number of slots are available, so hurry! Tryouts begin at midday tomorrow at the Duracave bunker outside of Pu`u village. Please have them bring a short essay (~500 words) describing why they would make a good herald of carnage and what battle means to them. We’ll assess your children’s physical skills, potential, and temperament. We’ll post our acceptance list, and contact you with scholarship options by the end of the week.

STORYLINE

The Story of Bulai Joe: The Untrustworthy Trader

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Before the fracture a person could get anything they wanted delivered to their home. My grandpa says they could even return it and get their money back if they didn’t like what they got. There were special stores that sold anything you could imagine, even things like candles and weird smelling oils. Things aren’t like that anymore. There are a few places you can go in Lahaina that have basic necessities, like clean water and clubs, but other things are hard to find. That’s why traders are so important. If you want to buy some medicine or ammunition, a trader is your best bet. Since so many count on them for important items, everyone loves honest traders and hates ones that lie. This is the story of Bulai Joe, the most untrustworthy trader who ever lived on the island.

Nobody knows what Bulai Joe did before the accident but one thing was for sure, he was a great liar. Joe could convince almost anyone of anything. Joe sold little things at first: water, canned food, colorful rocks and shells, and was very successful. People liked talking to Joe and many looked forward to a daily visit because he told such good stories. Joe’s name began to spread in the area and soon he was the busiest trader around. Even though he was popular and made a good living, Joe wasn’t happy. He didn’t like the people he sold things to, and the people in charge of his village. He wanted to make more money and he knew just how he’d do it.

He started lightening the loads of his bullets, so he could sell the extra powder. They’d still work on small game, and he figured anything larger would take care of his customers before they had a chance to complain. He’d sell used medkits as new. His scales were always a little off, and he’d steal something from a person’s house only to sell it to their neighbors later.

Joe lived his life lying and cheating people for years. It would usually take a few weeks before people could figure out what he was doing, and by that time he had moved on to a different part of the island. Joe would lay low for a while, and start the whole thing over again when he was running out of rai. Then one day he wandered into Lahaina and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

There were two big groups that hadn’t heard of him, and while the Kanaka had a lot of trade goods, it was the Thrivers that caught his eye. He couldn’t believe how much rai the Thrivers had, and how good their equipment was. He thought to himself, “They have so much that I could retire if I come up with a good plan.” Joe emptied all of his emergency caches and introduced himself to the people of Lahaina.

He sold worthless gadgets and water to the Kanaka, and gave the Thrivers a great deal on some boxes of his special ammunition, and a few crates of old guns. He told them that in addition to lots more weapons, he had two hospital size Reparre med units that he was willing to sell for the right price. The Thrivers couldn’t believe their luck. Back then, there were lots of sick people in Pu’u and two medical units that size could take care of everyone for years. The price was high, but not as costly as the people they might lose if they didn’t have the machines.

A few days later Joe made a deal with the Thrivers for the imaginary med units. The Thrivers gave him half the rai, and for security, he left behind all of his worthless goods and worries, or so he thought. News that someone was selling Reparre machines had spread beyond Lahaina. A group of bandits was watching Joe, and waiting for just the right time to grab him and the valuable machines. Joe wasn’t even out of town before the bandits grabbed him.

Joe woke up inside the bandits hideout. The leader told him how much they wanted the units and that they were willing to spare his life if he told them where he was keeping them. Joe didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have the machines, but was sure that the bandits wouldn’t believe him. He decided to draw a map to buy some time, but he knew it wouldn’t give him long. Some of the bandits took the map and left, while Joe counted how much time he had left.

A few days passed, and he knew that the bandits would be returning soon. His lies had finally caught up with him. Then he heard someone call his name. It was group of Thrivers come to rescue him. It had taken a while, but they had discovered where Joe had been taken. They told him to go to the back of his room as they put explosives on his door. Unfortunately, they brought the detonators they bought from Joe. The first one didn’t work, and neither did the second.

While the Thrivers were trying to figure out what was wrong, gunfire rang out. Most of the Thrivers were using equipment that they had bought from Joe. Their guns jammed or misfired, and the few bullets they managed to get off were unable to get through the bandit’s armor. Instead of freeing Joe, the Thrivers found themselves captives too.

It didn’t take too long before everyone figured out what had happened, especially after the bandits with Joe’s fake map came back. Joe pleaded with the bandit leader to set him free. He promised all of his inventory, and that he’d find the units he had promised the Thrivers in exchange for his freedom. But the bandits didn’t believe him. Instead of dealing with Joe themselves, they thought it was better for the people of Lahaina to pass judgement. They kept many for ransom but let a few Thrivers free to escort Joe back to town. After hearing the story, the Thrivers and Kanaka tied some of Joe’s heaviest equipment to him and threw him into the sea. The water washed Joe and his lies from Lahaina.

Telling the truth is important for everyone, but especially for traders. I don’t want to be a trader when I grow up because I think it would be boring trying to get people to buy things, but my lying cousin talks about it all the time. My grandpa says he’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t sell anything heavy.

Akamai Mahelona
5th Grade
Pu`u School Lahaina

STORYLINE

The Night Ice Dancing Came To Lahaina

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Snow may not be the first thing people think about when they think of the island, but the summit of Haleakalā does occasionally get snow, and it’s not unusual for the top of the volcano to be covered. Of course Lahaina is different. Before the fracture snow was only recorded a few times and it didn’t last long, but the accident changed a lot of things, including the weather. Some people might tell you that a little snow is nothing to worry about, but they are wrong. The people who lived through the big blizzard years ago like my grandpa know that the ice brings more dangers than just the cold. This is the story of the week long snow storm that hit the island, and the horrible night that ice dancing came to Lahaina.

There were only a handful who had actually seen snow before on the day the first few flakes fell on Front street. At first, most loved the unusual weather. Often violent and dangerous, the Veilstorms would usually send people scrambling for shelter. The snow was different. It was cold, but not deadly, at least not at first. Kids learned how to make snowballs, and for a couple days everyone had fun, but then people began to worry.

The plants started to die and lots of people didn’t have warm clothes. Many Kanaka got frostbite and the Thrivers wondered what would happen if things didn’t warm up again. Four days into the blizzard, streams began to freeze over and many began to panic. The Kanaka burned their boats and the Thrivers began crafting coats as fast as they could, and making plans on how to keep the pumps from freezing. Then the snowmen appeared and things got worse.

They were in pairs, dressed in sequined outfits, with odd looking shoes strung over their shoulders. They were in front of every compound in Lahaina that morning, and the people who discovered them didn’t know what to think. The shoes were really strange, and nobody could figure out what they were at first. Then the elders got a good look and knew immediately what they were. They were skates.

The storm was really bad that day and it was hard to see outside, but strange sounds could be heard all morning. Faint dance music was being broadcast from somewhere that mixed with the sound of the icy waves. Bells could be heard coming from the forest, and the sound of skates being sharpened carried on the wind. Terrified of what might come the Kanaka gathered in The Mission for protection, and the people of Pu’u assembled in the courthouse waiting to see what was next. The answer came later that night when many heard what they had been dreading, a rhythmic tapping on the walls of the buildings. Shots rang out and everyone was yelling and screaming, but the Thrivers and Kanaka were no match for the Tappers. They had challenged all of Lahaina to a ice-dance-off and they weren’t about to let anyone bow out.

Everyone knows that The Tappers really know how to capture and hold an audience so escape was impossible. The tinseled terrors had dammed a stream and constructed a makeshift rink. Pairs from each group were chosen to participate and showed the routine for the short dance portion of the competition. The remaining captives were bound and encouraged to watch and cheer at gunpoint.

It did not go well for the Thrivers who were quickly served and received savagely low scores by the scintillating judges. The Kanaka seemed to fair a bit better until their second couple made the fatal mistake of following the melody and phrasing instead of the beat. They were immediately disqualified and destroyed. The judges ruled that no replacement would be allowed, much to the relief of the Kanaka in the audience. The Tappers on the other hand nailed every lift, spin, and twizzle despite the soft ice and sense of dread in the air.

During the break for ice smoothing, the captives discussed their fate. It was over for them. Their best bet was the short dance. The free dance was up next and the scoring would weigh creativity most heavily. They didn’t have the costumes, choreography, cross roll, or choctaw skills to survive. Their chances of making it out of the competition alive were as thin as the edge of their skates.

However, just before the next round began the audience noticed something wonderful, a thin stream of water across the ice. It had stopped snowing hours ago and the weather was returning to normal. The Tappers were as furious as they were fabulous. The conditions were already poor, and continuing on even softer ice would interfere with the quality of their programs. There would be no more swing rolls, slide chasse’s, or icey murders for the day. Before departing, they promised to save the scores and resume the competition when the streams froze again.

Some people say that the Tapper ice dance never happened, and that it’s just a story they tell kids around the campfire, but my grandpa and his friends say it’s true, so I’m not sure. I’ve been practicing forward crossovers on the beach just in case.

Akamai Mahelona
5th Grade
Pu`u School Lahaina

STORYLINE

Lono Hahai and the Lahaina Wolves

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There are a bunch of animals on the island that aren’t native to the land. The first people brought some of them here on purpose like pigs, dogs, and chickens. Some like rats, were accidentally dropped off here by explorers. Still others like the mongoose, were brought in because people thought they could kill other animals that were eating too many crops, or destroying the forest. But the wolves fit into a special category of their own.

For many years, hunting the deer on the island was a popular pastime. Hunters from all over would come to the island to bring down a trophy buck. It wasn’t long before a number of hunting lodges and ranches sprang up. The biggest and best-known by far was the Hahai Ranch. If you wanted to hunt anything on Maui, your best bet was to hire a guide from Hahai.

There were a lot of good hunters and a few great ones at the ranch, but the best by far was the owner’s daughter Lono. Even though she was still a teenager, Lono seemed much older and was wise in the ways of the forest. She could track any animal and seemed to be able to tell what the boar or deer would do before they did. She soon became the most sought out hunting guide at the ranch, but Lono had very strict rules and ideas about how to hunt.

She never used guns when she went hunting and refused to guide anyone who did. After a while she even started to refuse bow hunts, insisting that using a spear was the best way to truly appreciate the primal nature of hunting. If it hadn’t been for a chance encounter with a wolf expert during a trip, Lono might only be remembered as a great guide.

The young woman became obsessed with how wolves took down their prey and the plight of pups orphaned by nuisance hunts. She turned part of the ranch into a wolf sanctuary, and 3 years after taking in her first pup, Lono began hunting with them. Soon she opened the hunts up to the public and the waiting list to go with one of the packs became huge. Hand-raised by the young woman and trained to hunt in combination with guests, the wolves made the ranch and Lono famous.

Armed only with a spear, knife, or club, hunters would join a pack, led by Lono, for up to 3 days. The wolves would track game, and run it until it was exhausted. When Lono was sure the target animal was tired and careless enough, she would have the pack steer the prey towards guests who lay in ambush.

Eventually, the hunts got more and more elaborate with technical upgrades. Each of the wolves were fitted with Ceremplants so hunters could see their quarry through the pack’s eyes, and Lono could better communicate with the wolves during the hunt. An entire pack was upgraded with bioluminescent fur for special night hunts. Nobody knows what Lono had planned next for her pack because the great accident happened.

One of the first places the people on the hill checked after the fracture was the ranch. They were hoping to find other survivors, food, or weapons but they didn’t find much. The entire ranch had been cleaned out by the time they arrived, and fresh graves had been dug in the back. Almost nothing remained but one half-starved wolf buried in the rubble. The beast snarled at first, but seemed to understand that the people meant no harm and let them help. Once free, the wolf let out a howl and ran into the forest. Almost a week later the survivors started to find deer left outside of the village.

Nobody saw who was leaving them, and at first, some people thought it was a trick. It wasn’t long until hunger beat out their caution, and they started eating the venison. For a little over a year, the people on the hill would find a deer left at the gate every week. They began to hear wolves howl during the night and while they were hunting, but nobody ever saw one. Everyone thought that the wolf they saved was just thanking them in the way he had been trained, then the mutants came, and they learned the truth.

One night scouts ran through the gates followed by a group of those monsters. Soon the village was surrounded. People fought as hard as they could, but back then the wall wasn’t very high so the mutants just climbed over it. All night long the people fought but it was no use, there were too many of them. Almost everyone was killed and the survivors barricaded themselves inside the school. They knew it was just a matter of time before the monsters found a way in. Everyone had lost hope, and they were sure they’d be eaten. Then, just as the sun was coming up one of the remaining guards looked out the window and saw a woman standing by the gate with a deer thrown over her shoulders. It was Lono!

She dropped the deer, threw her head back, and let out a howl. From every direction, wolves howled back. From inside the school the people watched as streaks of fur slammed into the mutants, knocking them to the ground and tearing them apart. A few of the monsters tried to run but they weren’t fast enough to escape the fury of Lono’s spear and her pack.

It was then that the people knew that it was Lono leaving the deer to thank them for saving one of her wolves. She must have thought they were even after that because the deer stopped being delivered. It’s been a long time since that day and there are a lot more wolves on the island now, but nobody ever saw Lono again. I like to think that she’s still running with her pack somewhere on the island protecting people from mutants, but who knows. The only thing that’s certain is that there’d be no wolves on the island if it wasn’t for my hero, Lono Hahai.

Akamai Mahelona
5th Grade
Pu`u School Lahaina

STORYLINE

Pu’u: The Home of the Thrivers

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When the veil fractured everything that people counted on to live their lives was gone. Many of the roads were damaged, there was no internet or electricity, phones wouldn’t work, and there wasn’t even clean water to drink. With: earthquakes, deadly diseases spreading across the island faster than they could be treated, and extreme weather stirring up volient storms, more destructive than anything seen before, many were lost in the first few days. Many more gave up, because they hadn’t worked hard enough before the accident, and didn’t have the drive to fight all the bad things stacking up against them. But not my grandfather Pa’ani, he and a handful of others knew how to work hard, and knew that they’d have to work even harder if they were going make new lives for themselves and their families. That’s what they did when they founded Pu’u. From that day on, they were known as the Thrivers, and they made the best home that they could for the people who deserved it.

People tried to make it through that terrible first month in lots of different ways. The Kanaka turned back to many of the old ways, by honoring the land and learning what new treasures it held. The people of Tanager Lane closed their gates and nobody was allowed to come or go. The Lucky Dodge Hotel stayed open for those who were secretive, or wicked enough to get a room. Many went off to create a new world and a new way of life; some believing in the power of dance and destruction, and others focused on the drinks of the past and living a reckless life. None, however, had the determination, drive, and resources that the Thrivers did.

As soon as he made sure my grandma and my dad were ok, Pa’ani knew who he had to find. As Vice Principal of Pu’u high, my grandfather knew that he’d need the talents of everyone in his PTA golfing team. If he was going to help his family make it through this catastrophe, living the life they had grown accustomed to, he’d need the help of “The Hole-In-Nones”.

Grace Luahi had connections at the SSHAM factory and owned a number of warehouses filled with useful items, food, and drink. Chris Treadwell helped run a turbine and geothermal energy company. He had maps of well sites and plenty of equipment. Trip Alunu owned the islands biggest HVAC company and had plenty of spare solar cells too. Lastly, my grandpa had keys to every building on campus, including the vocational buildings with medical supplies, and all the extra tools and equipment they would need.

The surviving members of the golf team pulled together and worked to lessen the great burdens of life after the fracture. They had power and water running again within a week. Soon, others found their way to the school, and asked for shelter, but it was always the same. These people didn’t work hard or prepare before the accident, and they didn’t after. They would steal, and not do their assigned tasks. Even though the team tried to give them a chance, they didn’t share the same values and had nothing to give or contribute. Worse still, they let a number of Kanaka in even though the ube fever was running rampant. They gave the Kanaka water without getting anything in return. The Thrivers knew that it was only a matter of time before these outsiders would ruin everything. They needed to find more people like them.

Then someone said they knew a retired officer from the yacht club, and suggested that they try to find him. It turned out to be a great idea. Colonel Kaua had set up his mobile bunker along the beach and had taken in many influential families, but they were under constant attack by desperate people, and the horrors of the forest. The team explained that the yacht club people would be much safer on top of the hill at Pu’u, and that the mobile bunker would be just the thing to deter people looking for handouts. The colonel agreed, and over the next few days, they moved the bunker to where it still sits today, with his son guarding Pu’u and teaching the ways of war.

Along with other families like: the Pahili’s, the Hoomana’s, and the Palakiko’s, The Hole-In-Nones created a paradise within paradise by sharing values, working hard, and being smart enough to have things before the accident. They didn’t just survive, they thrived. I’m proud of what my grandpa and his friends did, and I hope that nothing like the fracture ever happens again. If we have to count on the hard work of people like my brother, we won’t make it. He can’t even pick up his toys.

Akamai Mahelona
5th Grade
Pu`u School Lahaina