ALBIA, 2019 AD

The future, Albia. Grendels rule the planet, having overthrown the now-
supercomputer and subverted it to carry out their deadly deeds. Norns are 
no longer alive; instead they are android Norns, with a lifespan of only four 
hours. They are built as adults, and are used as slaves to the mighty 
Grendel leaders. These Norns do not know what they are; in every way 
they look and act like real Norns. They even have fake memories implanted 
in their brains to stop them suspecting. But rumour has it that there exists a 
band of rebels, the Renegades, led by a mysterious real Norn; he discovers 
the android Norns from under their Grendel rulers and rescues them from 
their cruel fate, and, using the super-secret device known only as the 
GeneSplicer, he increases their living time. There is only one such Norn; 
and he is known as the NornRunner.

The Future starts here.
* * * *
Coolcut watched the Albian sunset. It was not often that he got the time to 
relax in such a way; he was usually busy doing his job.

He sighed heavily, and looked over to the sole picture that he kept in the 
house, the picture of his partner, Yurell. He often gazed at the picture in 
the hope that he would see her again one day, that they could start their 
family as they’d planned. But he knew that was not possible; he would 
never again see this Purple Mountain Norn. She was gone, killed in the 
massacres that followed the first batch of android Norns; the grendels had 
come looking for him, but instead they’d found Yurell. And now she was 
no more. But there was no time for such musings. He had accepted that he 
would never see her again years ago. And there was much work to be done 
for the Renegades, if they were to seriously oppose the Grendels.

The Renegades’ base was the old shower area, where happy Norns used to 
come to bathe, and extended up to the living quarters in the old music 
rooms. Coolcut descended the stairs into the main hall, where the relics of 
the shower taps were still present, looming overhead like a constant 
reminder of their mission. On the wall was a plaque, inscribed with the 
Renegades’ motto, “We succeed, or we die trying.” It had taken them 
several months to salvage the metal for the plaque, but it was worth it.

Plans were hastily being prepared for a raid on the GrenDell Corporation, 
who made all of the android Norns. Schematics were being pushed around, 
and many of the Norns were quabbling over which way to attack. The 
mission was simple; they were to go in and try and hack into the central 
computer’s main files, deleting the hard copies of the instruction details for 
the android Norns. But doing it was another thing entirely.
“Norn come in here!” said George, pointing at a back entrance on the 
blueprints of the GrenDell Corporation.
“No Norn! Grendel there!” retorted Fysh. The two of them were getting 
increasingly het up over the argument, and they were about to come to 
smacks until Coolcut stepped in.
“No Norn!” he said. “Norn good, Grendel bad. Tickle Norn. Smack 
Grendel!” The two aggravated Norns stopped their quibbling at once and 
gave each other a tickle, the sign of friendship. Eventually the two decided 
on an entrance point, down one of the main exhaust ports of the 
Corporation. There would be no grendels there, but for a very good 
reason. The exhaust ports let out huge bursts of sulphur dioxide and carbon 
monoxide, every two or three minutes. The Norns were aware of the 
inherent dangers, but it really was the safest way in, as they wouldn’t have 
to combat any of the heavily armed and ferocious Grendel guards. One-on-
one, a Norn could still keep up with a grendel in a fight, but the grendels 
had the advantage of superior armour and weapons. It was best, if possible, 
to steer clear of them.

Having said that, the Renegades were not bereft of weaponry or 
technology. They had even managed to salvage parts of the old computer 
above the kitchen, after it was wrecked by the grendels, and had rebuilt it. 
It was vital to their recovery and analysis of stolen grendel data. They also 
had some fairly primitive slingshots, bows and arrows and the like, and 
even one or two stolen grendel guns. The Renegades would go into this 
raid tonight the underdogs, but such was their courage that they weren’t 
afraid.
* * *
As the Renegade Norns stepped out into the night, they looked towards the 
huge, golden building that they were to attack tonight. Living conditions in 
Albia had degraded badly ever since the grendels chopped down the old 
forest and erected huge, power hungry buildings and factories in its place. 
Oxygen content in the air was low, carbon dioxide was high. The 
temperature during the daytime was almost unbearable.

Coolcut led the way. On his shoulders he bore the huge responsibility of 
being the only living Norn left on Albia, at least to anyone’s knowledge. 
Knowing the grendels, they probably had a couple frozen just so they could 
laugh at them when they wanted to. But Coolcut was the only 
NornRunner. He was the only one capable of getting the GeneSplicer to 
work (it had a paw-pad on it that only reacted to fully living creatures, 
something they had worked hard to get around, but hadn’t managed yet), 
thus it was vital for him to survive.

The Renegades reached the exhaust port fairly quickly. Only two Norns 
were to go in -  there were only two gas-masks available - Coolcut, 
obviously, and Wizkidd, the computer expert. Coolcut was to combat any 
grendels and to protect Wizkidd while he hacked into the mainframe to try 
and find the construction files for the android Norns. But the mission was 
not that simple; before he deleted them he had to copy the files and try and 
find any files relating to living Norns on Albia. The computer would detect 
their presence and set its alarm off within twenty-five minutes. The two 
Norns had to be in and out in twenty-three at most, that meant, to be on 
the safe side. It was not worth taking extra risks when Coolcut was around.

Coolcut strapped on his gas mask.
“Norn ready?” he asked Wizkidd.
“Yes. Norn ready!” Was the reply. The two of them looked each other in 
the eyes, waved goodbye to their other friends, and stepped into the 
exhaust port. The port was a mile long, and they only had ten minutes 
worth of oxygen in their breathing apparatus; five minutes in, five minutes 
out. They were going to have to run fairly hard. They set off down the 
long, circular corridor. Behind them they could already see the rest of the 
Norns backing away to a safe distance from the exhaust port. Soon they 
heard the whooshing sound of oncoming gasballs. The huge, toxic gases 
swept over them, and made it very hard for them to run, but they used 
every bit of strength in their body. They made it through to the other side 
and found the computer terminal.

Coolcut stood with his back to the terminal while Wizkidd got busy. They 
were lucky, there were no grendels in the immediate vicinity. They had 
timed their attack well; they had aimed to get there for the night-time break 
of ten minutes, when all the workers (the android Norns) and grendels got 
a quick break. The plan was working well so far. Almost too well.
“Norn found it! Norn found it!” squealed Wizkidd in delight. He had 
isolated the construction files.
“Quiet Norn!” ordered Coolcut. He was getting suspicious of  the 
quietness of the plant. They only had five minutes left before they began 
their exit. Wizkidd got busy, fervently tapping away at the console with 
remarkable dexterity for one with such large, furry paws.

Then the tapping stopped.

Coolcut wheeled around and saw that Wizkidd was looking at the screen in 
wide-eyed shock. He had copied the files, but he had found something else.

“Yurell?” said Coolcut.

“Yurell here. Yurell alive!” shouted Wizkidd. Coolcut couldn’t believe it.. 
he was sure… but …

There was no time for such musings. He heard a grunt from behind him.

And turned around slowly into a room full of grendels.