Brandon Carro

4/7/2014

Approximator 1

Zeppelin Heist: Approximator and the Origins of Beginning

The city slept quietly under a blanket of rainbow stars, shining across the mountains like a colorful band of effervescent tranquility. Underneath the night sky lay a dark building, a building so tall not even the sewer rats could see the bottom of the foundation sunk far into the rich earth. Citizens could not help but be impressed by this towering monument to the agency of man, blocking out any possible thoughts of impassioned transgression. Far in the depths of this titanic structure sat a man, emboldened by the physicality of perception.

Wallaxe Thornlight imagined himself climbing to the top of this building and consuming the night. He worked here most days and sometimes during the night. The Department of Intentional Oversight had hitherto been the dominating passion of his life, embracing him like a jagged lover on a windswept peak. Filing his papers in mostly alphabetical order, he left his desk and headed to the office break room. His position as Secondary Approximator of Bureaucratic Crimes and Courtroom Double Jeopardy Tuesdays didn’t leave him much time for treats like this, but at least he could take pleasure in knowing that they always got their man, no matter how many times they were brought to trial.

Tonight however would not be like any other night. A mounting desire for correct order filled him like nothing ever had. A whirlwind of blazing action and animated transcendence drove him forward to the edge of existence as he filled up his Dixie cup with diet R.C. Cola. Tonight he would no longer remain a Secondary Approximator. Tonight he would no longer let the world nearly decide his fate. Tonight he would rise to the withering heights of a god on earth. Tonight he would master his fate and that of all who mistakenly organized their income returns. Tonight he would approximate. With this, Wallaxe bureaucratically crushed his Dixie cup and headed back to his desk.

Straightening his tie and putting on his gray flannel suit, Thornlight grabbed the Master File and consulted the most recent bureaucratic felonies. Thoughts buzzed through his head like trains on a train track, and his skin tingled with the delight of fulfilling his ambitions. Herr Graf the Count von Elaßchen had been requisitioning local supplies of wind. Not only had he failed to triplicate his forms, but Wallaxe realized that any man who lacked a zeppelin wouldn’t need so

much energy. There could only be one answer: Elaßchen meant to steal the city’s Zeppelin Exploration Force. Not only this, but the Count had been linked to a series of gold robberies, undoubtedly due to his submitting the appropriate forms with the Department of Financial Theft and Party.

Wallaxe decided to act. He submitted the Request for Timely Information with the DoFTP and headed home. Such action filled him with an unpremeditated sense of enlightenment; never had such work proved more satisfying in all his years of anesthetizing paperwork. Thornlight knew he didn’t have much time, the forms would be processed within 7 to 12 business weeks.

Walking the streets of a sleeping city gave him time to consider his position. As the stars filled him with wonder, he gazed upon the distant zeppelins and know that soon his fate would be wrapped with theirs. Wallaxe keep his sense of action and passion alive over the next few weeks with a combination of red bull and fountain pen categorization.

At last the information he requested had arrived. Elaßchen meant to strike that very night, his burglarization of both the zeppelin force and local gold reserves having been approved by the DoFTP and the Department of Interstate Transportation and Legal Ineptitude. Retying his shoes the officially sanctioned 2.78 times, he left for the floating docks.

“Stop right there, Elaßchen!” said Wallaxe.

Climbing on top of the zeppelin fleet was not an easy task, but the true faith of departmental glory buoyed his heart to the soaring heights of desire. Spread out under his feet like a giant space whale was the zeppelin, already codified to the wind. Clearly Elaßchen meant to depart like a downtown cabbie with a bet on the hottest dame in town.

“Und so, Approximator, it would appear that I have all the gold, leaving you with nothing, ahaha!” Elaßchen voice was as Teutonic as it was abstracted, and Wallaxe had to strain to hear him over the sound of the turbines.

“Those syllables weren’t licensed!” said Wallaxe, throwing his briefcase toward the lighter-than-air transport thief. The razor sharp and color-coordinated forms flew out of his briefcase as if by magic towards Elaßchen. He managed to dodge most of them, but the carbon copies stuck to his feet, which lessened his grip out the silky smooth surface of behemoth airship floating in the heavens like a used tissue resting on the shoulder of a crying woman.

“Approximator, get ready to MEAT FIST!” shouted Elaßchen as he threw a platter of roast schweinshaxe toward Wallaxe.

The meat dish was as deadly as it was delicious, and Wallaxe had a hard time concentrating on the fight while eating and categorizing the meal according to temperature, color, and texture. Overcoming his love of pork based dishes, Thornlight reexamined Elaßchen’s position just has he reexamined the local ordinances regarding inter-urban farm revitalization.

Just as he denied those orphans a chance at a stable source of food, he would deny Elaßchen his gilded helium dreams.

“Come, Glinka” said Elaßchen to his assistant, a striking woman with cream colored skin, dark hair, and bright blue eyes. She stood before Wallaxe in a way which immediately displayed her intelligence and confidence. “We must return to Zurich at once!”

“I am sorry Approximator, I had so looked forward to collating with you” said Glinka, the dappled moonlight reflecting on her accentuated lips.

“Hey Count” said Wallaxe “It’s time to die, more or less!” Wallaxe activated the carbon copy auto-ignite system. One of the luxuries the Department of Intentional Oversight allowed, this system ensured the destruction of carbon copy forms in the event of irregular filing.

Elaßchen stared in unexpected wonder at the small fire that had engulfed his feat, spreading across the surface of his shoes. It would undoubtedly blow up the zeppelin and with it his gold, if he did not make an expedient exit. Leaping into the night with the courage of a man who trusted in the oldest traditions of the Imperial German Navy, he disappeared from view like a bubble popped by a small child who doesn't understand finality.

“He will be back” said Glinka. “The Count is a man of many resources, and his cape will allow him survive the fall.”

“I look forward to the day when I can cross typeset with him again”

Glinka boarded a smaller, but no less impressive, personal airship attached to the top of the zeppelin and left. With this, Wallaxe stood alone, flying into the night on the dreams of man and beast. He knew this was only the beginning. He wasn’t the hero the city deserved, but he was the hero the city had acquired through intergovernmental codified concessions. With Glinka’s propensity for wit and conversation still in his mind, he turned the great skyship around, and returned to the floating docks. The heavens blazed glory across the minds of all who wonder at the transrhapsodic countenance of being.

Thus the origins of the beginning have arrived. The Approximator stands on guard over his city, ready to tumble with any threat like a washing machine stuck on spin dry. Return next time for Approximator: Captain Asteroid and the Re-Revengeance of the Stars.