Freedom Powder Force V
The electromagnetizer of doom!
By DEREK ELLIS

SETTING: TETON VALLEY, ID. 2057. THE LURE OF THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR HAS FULLY GRIPPED THE WEST. DEVELOPMENT AND RESOURCE EXTRACTION HAVE CONSUMED ALMOST EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY. THE INDUSTRY LOBBY GROUP SULLEN WARRIORS AGAINST GAIA (SWAG) HAS MOBILIZED ITS AGENTS TO ADD THE TETONS TO ITS SPAN OF TOTALITARIAN EXPLOITATION. LUCKILY OUR POWDER HEROES, RIP TOKES AND HIS STONER COMPADRE, JAPHE, ARE AMONG A SPIRITED GROUP DEVOTED TO STOPPING SWAG'S DIABOLICAL PLANS...

Streaks of alpenglow fled the face of the full moon as it climbed to its shining watch over the rising snowfields. High up in the snowy bowls and ridges, Rip studied the canyon below through a dissipating smoke cloud. Settling into the buzz of the herb, Rip shuffled his skis through the stellar crystals stacked high in these hills. Two thousand feet below, the dark figures of SWAG swarmed about the hulking shadow of the machine.

"There's our cue," said Rip as the shadowy forms began to disperse down canyon. The two freedom fighters prepared for the descent. The long, curving bowl below filtered into forest just above the floor of the canyon.

Rip drooled over the moonlit powder bowl below. "Hey man, your pit-zips are open," pointed out Japhe.

"Huh?" Rip checked his parka. Japhe laughed and slipped into the bowl, becoming a sparkling cloud as he floated through the five-percent goodness. Rip could just hear Japhe chuckle over the low roar of spinning dendrite arms. Rip hopped in after him and time stalled as the rhythm of effortless powder turns consumed his consciousness.

At the bottom of the bowl the two disappeared into the stand of spruce becoming one with the shadows. Pulling up just shy of the break in the trees, Rip and Japhe took cover behind a big 'ol Doug fir. They looked past 20 yards of hoar-frosted willow to the giant contraption. Rip stiffened against a tree as a SWAG guard came around the machine.

Floating just above the powder, the agent was wearing SWAG hoverboots. Lost to the art of true mountain-snow travel, the hoverboots were developed to combat the talented boarders and skiers aligned against them. Fortunately there were ways to thwart the technology. Rip and Japhe were prepared.

"Remember, my man.... I need at least a full minute to switch the wires," Rip reminded his red-eyed compatriot. Then Rip slipped out from behind the tree. He glided smoothly through the shadows toward the rear of the machine. Watching Rip, Japhe pulled a widemouth water bottle from the sling on his bibs. He grabbed a thinner water bottle with the bottom cut out and a bowl on the lid from his pack. Inserting the loaded bottle into the water in the widemouth, Japhe paused for Rip to get in position.

Across the canyon, deep shadows fell from thick spruce through glades illuminated by moonlight. Rip enjoyed the rise of the constellation Orion above the slope. With one starry foot behind the ridge and his body tilted toward the ground, Orion seemed to dive into the powdery canyon. Rip made a mental note of the beckoning northerly slope and deeply breathed in the cold Idaho air.

Through the trees Rip saw the SWAG guard pass by the dark, humming machine—the very machine that would cast an electromagnetic wave into the atmosphere, denying the sweet merger of freezing water particles. Alas, there only would be freezing rain.

Rip went through the wiring of the instrument he needed to sabotage. By reversing the ionization element, the freedom fighters hoped to actually turbo charge the atmosphere, resulting in eternal dumpage. That or the machine would explode in one gnarly ball of fire. Either way, it sounded pretty cool to our heroes.

The low gurgle of Japhe's top-secret gravity bong cued Rip into action. As Rip slid into the meadow and toward the hulking machine, the cries of the confused SWAG guard joined the sounds of the night. The gravitation devices powering the guard's hoverboots were denied thanks to Japhe's pull on his gravity bong. The agent was trapped on the ground, cemented by the huge weight of his useless, overweight technology. Meanwhile, Rip was in the main control panel, carefully cutting wires and flipping and re-installing the element with his pocket SolderMan.

Rip closed the instrument panel and headed back for the trees, praising the eternal lungs of Japhe. Moving through the trees quickly now, Rip saw the shadow of Japhe up and to the right at the base of the climb back up the ridge. The buzz of hoverboots and the pissed-off shouts of SWAG agents cut through the canyon.

Rip turned to his buddy. "Nice work, Japhe. I had all the time I needed. You the man! Now let's get outta here before our buddies get a clue."

Looking especially burnt and glassy-eyed, all Japhe could manage was, "Uh-uh-huh. Yeah."

The two switchbacked up through the light powder. After a few minutes the SWAG agents were on their trail. Rip led to the side of a steep, open gully halfway up the slope. Just above them it broke in a rollover and the gully began. The two could see the three SWAG agents a few hundred feet below.

Rip eyed the bulging pillow of powder beneath the rollover and smiled. "Come on Japhe, let's bury these hover-heads!" The two powered over the top of the gully and paused. As Japhe fished around in his pack, Rip watched the SWAG agents gradually climb the slope. To make better time the agents split the gully, coming right on up the gut. Rip chuckled, "This is way too easy."

Japhe lit a spliff, and then lit the fuse of the round canister held in his mitted paw. Tossing the small bomb into the snow pillow below, the lanky freedom fighter's smile glowed in the soft, cherry light. The two heroes shuffled off the rollover just as the avi-bomb detonated. A thick, crescent-shaped fissure ran along the top of the snow pillow, almost as if the mountain was smiling in the release of its powder load.

Quickly gaining speed and billions of crystal friends, the avalanche roared down the gully. The SWAG members failed to clear the drainage before the mountain spluge descended upon them. The agents let out one final narrow-minded cry of fear and were gone.

"That was cool..." drooled Japhe. Rip just smiled.

As the echo of the avalanche faded down-canyon and the disturbed snow settled back into the draw, the moon and the stillness once again swallowed the night. The pair of powder fiends moved silently through the trees and the glades until finally reaching the ridge top. There, two silhouettes laughed, high-fived, and celebrated the moment, congratulating each other on a successful mission. High above a cloud moved across the moon and the first fat flakes, spurred by the utterly successful recalibration of the machine, began to fall.


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(Disclaimer: avalanche bombs are dangerous devices and should never be used in the fictional way described above.)