(Author's note. The rise of the Internet has given vigor to the subgenre of fiction known as fan fiction. In this medium, fans of a particular television show, movie or musical group pen their own stories of the featured characters. I view fan fiction as the highest form of flattery. Being a life long fan of the energy and excitement of the Beatles, I hope this tale, detailing the adventures of the Beatles as re-animated cybernetic organ farming mercenaries in a post apocalyptic future will best express my devotion to their music.)

Even before Paul heard the blast from the explosion, there was a flash of white light and a feeling of being sucked backwards, as if he was back on Orbiting Station "Strawberry Fields" and his anti-grav boots had failed. Then the sound kicked in, a horrible roar sounding a bit like Lennon's solo albums of the seventies, and Paul was thrown into the air, the bitter taste of napalm soot on his tongue. That's when Paul knew it was techo norms. Napalm was their primitive specialty.

With a grunt, Paul landed on his left side, the mostly robotic side. Briefly, the telesight mounted above his left eye flickered and then came back into view. "Cockfosters!" Paul moaned and rolled himself upright. He swung his machinegun arm forward and scanned the view, seeing if any of these human scum would show themselves. In the distance he saw a lone figure running towards him.

"Paul!" screamed Ringo, his super-robot legs carrying him forward in ten-foot leaps. "Are you all right, bloke?"

"I'm fine, Ringo," Paul commented. "But keep your eyes open. Techo norms are about."

Both men dropped down and surveyed the surroundings. They were in the garbage strewn, burnt out husk of what had once been New Cambridge. Unlike the pristine beauty of New London, this area had been taken over by rebels after the Muslim homosexuals had launched nuclear attacks against the western cities of Europe two hundred years ago. Only two cities - New London and New Amsterdam -  had survived.

P-ING! A thermal shell bounced off Ringo's robo-chest unit and into the devastated urban wasteland. "Up there!" shouted Ringo.

Paul fixed his tele-lens on the second story of what had once been one of the world's oldest universities. Three techno norms sat in a window grasping a recalibrated 50-millimeter cannon. Paul saw one norm's finger pull down on the trigger.

"Cover!" Paul shouted, and fell back behind an abandoned car. Out of the corner of his tele-eye his saw Ringo leaping away in giant super steps. The manner in which Ringo leapt had always bothered Paul. "He looks like a bloody sod!" Paul thought, but he kept the thought to himself.

Rolling out from behind the car. Paul fired a volley of machine gun fire. He saw the bullets ricochet off the giant stones in the building wall and one of the techno norms chest burst into a crimson flower. But the norm with his finger on the trigger was quick and fired a series of return shots. The bullets buzzed past Paul's head as he ducked back behind his cover.

With his human hand Paul typed on the mini-keyboard built into his arm. The voice box popped up and he spoke into it, his voice raised above the sound of gunfire in the background. "Calling all Beatles! Norm attack in sector 12-47."

John was fifty yards in the air doing a low level scan of the area when Paul's SOS came in. His extended glider wings made him appear as a circling raven from below, but he also knew he's been an inviting target for any techno norms. He adjusted his map computer for the coordinates Paul had mentioned and took off.

With minutes he arrived at the location of King's College. The norms were below him peering out the window at a deserted car in the distance. Fresh smoke wheezed out their cannon. John dropped down to the point that he was level with the window.

"Evenin' blokes," John greeted them.

"It's Lennon!" screamed the norm manning the cannon. "He's the worst of all of them. He is responsible for THE YOKO!" The norm swung the cannon towards John.

"Oh I wouldn't do that if I were you," John said. And then he began to sing.

I should have known better with a girl like you
That I would love everything that you do
And I do, hey, hey, hey, and I do

"What the Christ?" the norms not manning the gun said. "He's just going to sing at us?" His partner began to squeeze the trigger.

John switched on his sonic oscillator and continued singing. His voice was now amplified to several levels past what the human brain could withstand.

Whoa, oh, I never realized what a kiss could be
This could only happen to me
Can't you see, can't you see

The norms fell back against the floor grasping their bleeding ears. Their bodies jerked against the floor and their screams were devoured by the volume of John's voice. One by one, like manhole covers bursting upward from and underground explosion, their eyeballs leapt out of their sockets. Finally each norm's head imploded, forced in upon itself by the enormity of John's voice. With a final spasm, their legs twitched and their souls descended to whatever level of hell was reserved for techno norms.

John landed on the windowsill and folded down his glider rings. Stepping inside, he pulled out his ten inch atom slicing bowie knife from its sheaf. With no effort he sliced through the techno norms' drab uniforms. Now what lay before him were two naked men with imploded heads. With a surgeon's precision, John sliced open one man's chest. He removed the heart, liver and kidney and placed them in individual compartments in the refrigeration box attached to his leg. Then he did the same for the second norm.

With the two men splayed out before him like a pair of dissected frogs, John looked over at the third body in the room. This norm had taken a shot to the chest, decimating his heart but his liver and kidney might be good. John approached the body.

"Ah, ah, ah, Johnny boy," echoed a voice through the stone hallway. Both Paul and Ringo had climbed up the stairs and were joining Lennon in the floor. "That's my kill," Paul continued. "I get the credit for his organs."

"Help yourself," John told his former bass player. "I'm happy with the two I got saving your bum."

"I just wanted you to get a chance to see some action," Paul countered. "I knew Ringo would run off all nelly on me."

"That's not fair, Paul," Ringo whined. "I just needed a chance to regroup, that's all."

Paul chuckled at the man's cowardice. "Ringo, did I ever tell you of the time Linda and I had a three way with your wife? What was her name? Barbara something-or-other? Mighty good bird."

"Stop it," Ringo sniveled. "You're hurting my feelings."

"So where's George?" John asked. "Didn't he get the memo?"

Paul started to speak. "He should be showing up any minute..." but his voice was lost to the loud roar that was coming out from outside the building.

The three Beatles looked out the window to see the giant - thing! - that was descending from the skies. It was like a huge, mechanical plate - a UFO - with three electropods ejecting hydrogen fuel out of its bottom. The roar of the engine drowned out all conversation that wasn't shouted, and the site of its laser cannons caused fear to well in the Beatles' eyes.

"It's Elvis!" shouted Ringo.

And the cannons began to roar!

Do the Cyber-Beatles survive? Find out in the next eciting installment of Beatles 2528!

 

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