"The Bandit" by Mike Metlay (atomic@tesser.com). Guest review by Piper.

In Western civilized cultures, there is a place separate from the so-called real world; a place where young and old meet, where learning from books and learning of life mix, where ideas and ideals are sometimes more important than the people who hold them. We call these places universities.

The Bandit is a student in a place called Arcadia. This story covers the last year and a half or so of his academic life. We don't learn much about his studying or courses, though of course such things must take place (there's only a few minor mentions of these matters). Instead, we read about him, his friends and acquaintances, their shifting relationships, and the slow unveiling of their inner personalities.

The Bandit is an intelligent young man with a libido that won't quit (like many young men), but with a problem -- an inner voice that tells him about right and wrong, and why he shouldn't do certain things that seem like good ideas at the time. Think of Hawkeye from TV's _Mash_, with less joking, but with a fair flair for music, especially bass guitar. Women and sex do not occupy his every waking moment. He's got a real life.

Some of the other folks involved are: Zero, the skinny, easygoing guy with the oversized shlong, who makes the girls crazy with lust; Mary Magdalene, the slightly oversized sexpot with a killer kiss and an absolutely over-the-top thing for The Rainbow Wizard, a cancer survivor who turned a mystic bent, all to hide his mind games and manipulations; Diva, another somewhat oversexed lady looking for a not-totally-meaningful relationship; Twink, who is honest, forthright, wears her heart on her sleeve, but is so painfully naive it hurts, and who eventually learns to share her boyfriend with one girl, her fiance with another girl, and herself with yet another girl (all at the same time!); Conan, the muscle-bound nice guy who hasn't got a clue as to what he's really all about.

And there's still Starch, Lanky, Flower, Livewire ...

While I read the story, I slowly came to the realization that all of the protagonists were distilled essences of character types. What made them live for me were the real situations and their believable reactions. I could see people I know doing the same things, but maybe not for the same reasons. Like an onion (a very over-used metaphor, I know), there is layer upon layer of misdirection and misunderstanding.

Look below the surface in this story. It won't grip you by the gonads, despite the fair sprinkling of sex, but it will, eventually, take over your mind, infesting you with thoughts about the characters themselves. Whoever the author is, he (or she) wrote a very intelligent, imaginative slice of life.

(My personal favorite character is Twink, but I don't think she'd settle for me. I'm probably a bit too much of the one-man-one-woman kind of guy for her.)

This is another long (275k) story.