tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88319324061565660322024-02-08T10:00:08.610-08:00Tales from Omega StationStories set on the dangerous outpost Omega Station by authors K.G. McAbee, J.A. Johnson and J. KirschKGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-16377676531551819202014-05-22T08:58:00.000-07:002014-05-22T08:58:00.587-07:00Part 17 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus looked away, found his eyes locked with Caravello's blue one. "I
don't understand. You two know each other?" The man said nothing but
instead nodded toward Ograd.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I work for Master Caravello, you void. Didn't you wonder how
someone who looked like your virtual twin just happened to show up at the most
convenient time for your little scheme?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"But I thought…"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You thought nothing. You
saw what you wanted to see because it suited your greedy needs. Master
Caravello's, uh, agents had been onto you for weeks. Did you really believe
that only that buffoon of an overseer made use of the sneaky-eye drone? The
fool was too lazy to even keep tabs on the likes of you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"But the explosion?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I tossed the prod down the nearest flume; made the blast sound
bigger than it actually was. As for the fire, I stayed below the sludge and
swam to safety."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus slumped deeper into his seat, shaking his head slowly. It was
all over, probably quite literally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Now what?" he mumbled. From the corner of his eye, he saw
Rudof gesture to Algensio. The Vamir circled around the desk and took hold of
Simikus with three of his four arms, lifting him to his feet and holding him in
place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Caravello said, "I'm afraid you destroyed some of my employee's
property. He wants compensation. I'm sure you won't object."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Ograd stepped closer and Simikus saw that he was holding a medical
tool. It looked all too familiar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"By the way," Ograd said, "my name really is Wilfor
Kudisi. But now that my name is registered with your palm print, I'm afraid I'll
need more than just a finger." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus Giff stood in the waste deep sludge of Omega Station's Wayamr
sector sewage treatment plant, more miserable and dejected than ever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The crackle of the overseer's prod snapped him from his miserable
trance just an instant too late. The prod jabbed into the small of his back and
the electric charge dropped him to his knees, allowing the filthy mire to
splash against his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Pick up the pace, Neek. Half as many hands means you gotta work
twice as hard to meet your quota."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-80119803055338901032014-05-20T08:57:00.000-07:002014-05-20T08:57:00.146-07:00Part 16 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">They stopped at the door and Rudof rubbed his chin. "Hmm. Yes, but
what could anyone really hope to gain from such an act?"<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn sighed. "Though a motive eludes me, my thoughts keep
turning to Malik Blayne."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Ah, Malik Blayne. Omega Station's Most Wanted. Well, I think I
speak for everyone when I say that we will all rest more easily once you've
caught that criminal."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I'm doing my best," Eversyn replied as he took his leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus's flesh sagged in relief. It was over—somehow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Now to make the sale and get on with his life of riches. Rudof had
returned to his seat and gave Simikus a pleasant look. He motioned him into the
chair Eversyn had vacated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Caravello smiled at Simikus. "I believe we were discussing ka'frindi?"
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus handed it to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"It's all there," he said. "And by the way, that was
brilliant, that Wilfor Kudisi thing. How did you know Eversyn was going to want
to check me out?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Caravello opened the, case, glanced at the contents before nodding to
Dyll, then handing it off to Algensio, who closed it up and resumed his
station.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Wouldn't the more appropriate question be, 'How did I know that
your true identity was Simikus Giff?' After all, how could I have provided you
with a foolproof fake ID without first knowing your true identity?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus blinked in wide-eyed stupefaction. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Starview manager was absolutely right. But as far as the Human
could have known, Simikus Giff <i>was</i> Ograd Paxa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Caravello's smiled grew less pleasant; his chubby face tightened. "Perhaps
I am not the one to clarify things for you, Simikus." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The office door opened and Simikus gasped as Ograd Paxa walked through
it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">It <i>was </i>Paxa! Even before he looked to the missing finger;
Simikus had no doubt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"B-b-but how? You're dead! I saw the explosion. I made sure…"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"You made sure of nothing, you fool," hissed Paxa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-50758564887566250432014-05-16T08:56:00.000-07:002014-05-16T08:56:04.241-07:00Part 14 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus bolted through the tables, hurrying for the nearest exit. The
Connies were on to him—but how? His plan had been perfect. Who were they
looking for, Simikus Giff or Ograd Paxa? He needed to know, but he had run too
quickly and missed the rest of the newscast. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Should he go back? No. No, he couldn't do that; there were always
Connies in the food court. He would be spotted for sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He clutched the case to him. "I've got to get to the Starview, to
Dyll and Caravello. They'll help me. They can get me a new ID." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Yes. That was it. He giggled as he ran along the avenue. With the
mega-credits he was about to be paid, he could buy more than an ID; he could be
genetically resequenced. Why, he could be anybody he liked. The Connies would
never catch him, not if he could get to the Starview.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus ran the rest of the way, and entered the establishment huffing,
puffing, and sweating. The place was much busier now, and most of the patrons
barely scowled at him as he wove his way though their midst toward the back of
the lounge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As he neared the nondescript door, he noted the huge Modajai standing
guard there. The sight of the scaly bouncer caused Simikus to waver
involuntarily. He slowed, almost to a stop. The Modajai fixed him with an
unreadable stare…before motioning Simikus toward the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Looking bolder than he felt, Simikus passed through the door. When the
hulking sentry did not accompany him, Simikus regained a great deal of his
composure. He was just a few meters from the office, just millimeters from
wealth beyond his wildest dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He stopped before the door and let it scan him. There was a pause, then
it opened to admit him. Grinning, he stepped inside. His smile of triumph
turned witless as he beheld the office's other occupants.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There sat Banastre Caravello behind his desk, flanked on his right by
Algensio and on his left by Rudof Dyll. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In a hoverchair on the right side of the desk was Captain Eversyn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Why would he still be here?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Connie leveled an inquisitive gaze at Simikus. "Well, well,
well; just the Nicovan I've been looking for, or rather one or the other of the
two."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Frozen in place, Simikus sent Dyll a pleading look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"And who might those unfortunates be?" Rudof chuckled to
Eversyn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The head of Omega Station's Consolidated Guard produced his data pad
and activated it, relating to Rudof the explosion in the sewage plant and the
two missing workers. He read off the names. "Ograd Paxa and Simikus Giff."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Well," broke in Caravello with a smug grin, "this good
fellow is neither one of them. He works for me. His name is Wilfor Kudisi."
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-90093733875098227842014-05-14T08:56:00.000-07:002014-05-14T08:56:00.919-07:00Part 13 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"You were absolutely brilliant, a true natural," Simikus
commended himself as he hastened through the Wayamr commercial quarter. "And
to think of the years wasted in the sewage plants." The very thought
caused his cranial lobe to darken in anger. "Well, no more sludge tanks
ever again."<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Slipping down a narrow alley between a haberdashery and a pastry shop,
Simikus opened a rusty hatchway. He passed down into the network of maintenance
corridors that crisscrossed below the quarter's main floor. Listening hard, he
hurried through a series of turns until he reached the floor plate covering his
ka'frindi horde.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He counted the frigid vials as he placed them into the small case he
had brought to transport them in. They should still be suitably cold by the
time he sold them to Banastre Caravello. After that, after Simikus had his
fortune in hard credits, the Human could do whatever he wanted with the
pre-straz fungus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Giddy with anticipation, Simikus started back to the Starview.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Topside again, Simikus hugged the case to him as he crossed the Wayamr
food court. He ignored the looks of irritation he drew from the motley assembly
of species eating at the many tables. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"So what," he hissed to himself, "who cares what they
think of me now? In a few minutes they'll be kissing my feet."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Just then, one of the many vidscreens around the food court caught his
attention. The nightly newscast was on. What was it saying? </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">…explosion in the Robiddian
sector sewage treatment facility is being investigated by the local division of
Consolidated Guard. As usual, the notorious Malik Blayne is a prime…<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-40383547035690301322014-05-12T08:54:00.000-07:002014-05-12T08:54:00.564-07:00Part 12 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"And where might this impressive amount of straz be now?"<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I, uh, I'm afraid I can't reveal that. I'm sure you understand,
honorable masters."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">A slow smile snaked its way across Rudof Dyll's painted face. "Of
course we do, my dear fellow. After all, how healthy would anything be on the
Rock without secrets?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus nodded agreement, smiling until Caravello held out a hand and
asked, "Let me see a sample."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"A sample?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Come now, Ograd. We're all friends, but not that friendly. Did
you think I was going to pay for the product sight-unseen?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">A good point, thought Simikus. Why hadn't he thought to bring a vial?
This, if nothing had so far, was going to make him appear the amateur that he
was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I don't have a sample with me. The, uh, the Connies were
everywhere so I left it behind."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">If anyone in the room was surprised or disappointed by this, Simikus
could not tell. "And there is one other thing."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Earrings jingled as Rudof Dyll sat straighter in his seat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"What?" snapped Caravello, his plump hands braced on the
floating desk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"The 'stuff' isn't yet straz, it's still last stage ka'frindi.
That means…"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I think Banastre knows what that means, Ograd old chap."
Dyll cast a quick glace at his Vamir bodyguard. Whatever meaning it held was
beyond Simikus to read and he felt even more uneasy with his present company.
Rudof Dyll only added to his anxiety by smiling sweetly at him and humming a
little tune. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Then the Starview's manager said, "So you know the source of
straz. Not many have ever learned that little secret. And fewer still are among
the living. Isn't that what you've heard, Master Dyll?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Yes, indeed I have. Though, to be totally honest, honored sirs, I
know very little about the matter."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I'll bet,</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> thought
Simikus. At a loss for words, he swallowed hard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But then, Caravello seemed to shift gears. "One hundred and
ninety-one grams, you say?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Yes, Master."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Ograd, Ograd, there's no need to call me Master…especially when
it looks as if we're going to be business partners. I think it only appropriate
that you address me as Banastre." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Yes, thank you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Now then, about this sample."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I…I can go get it if you'd like."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Forget it. Wipe it from your mind, dear fellow. Instead, I want
you to bring me all one hundred and ninety grams."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"All…yes, of course." Inside, Simikus was ecstatic. He was
gong to sell it all at once! That meant that he was going to get rich all at
once. He could barely contain his sudden exhilaration. "When?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Caravello glanced at the chrono set in his desktop. "We'll meet
here in, say, one hour?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He didn't ask if that would work for Simikus, but the Nicovan didn't
care. He was about to become absolutely, fantastically filthy rich.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Just then a soft trilling issued from the desk. The Human pressed a
button. "Yes?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Sir?" came a voice. "Captain Eversyn is here to see
Master Dyll."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus's eyes went wide with sudden infusion of fresh panic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The head of the Connies was here? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Where they on to him already? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Where was the nearest exit?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The manager cast a questioning look at Rudof Dyll; Dyll nodded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Inform the Captain that Master Dyll will be there momentarily."
He clicked the intercom off. "The Connies are indeed everywhere, it seems."
He grinned at Simikus. "Relax, Ograd. The Captain is an…associate of ours,
if you take my meaning." He flashed Simikus a sly smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Ah. Oh yes," Simikus chuckled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Then Rudof Dyll stood up and stuck out his hand. Surprised by the
unexpected gesture, since no one ever showed respect to Nicovan, Simikus stared
at the extended hand for a confused moment and then took and shook it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"My, that's quite a grip for a being so small."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus grinned happily. "I'll be back in an hour."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-32961324598980769062014-05-10T08:54:00.000-07:002014-05-10T08:54:00.741-07:00Part 11 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Ah, Caravello, dear fellow. Thank you so much for allowing us to
usurp your office. Ograd, this is Banastre Caravello, manager of the Starview
and, oh my, several other places here and there." Rudof Dyll's lean face
lit up in a thin smile. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The chubby Human stood still for the space of a heartbeat, then trotted
towards the desk and took a seat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Not at all, Master Dyll, not at all!" he boomed in a voice
three sizes larger than expected. "You're always welcome. Now, what have
we here, what have we here?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus knew this was his moment. If he could get this new Human to
accept him as a supplier, he was as good as rich.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Let me fill you in a bit, Banastre." The smile was still on
Dyll's face, but there was quite another look in his eyes—one that had nothing
to do with humor. "Master Ograd Paxa here has a little…proposition that he
suspects you might have some interest in. Something to do, I believe, with that
nasty drug called straz."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Oh, does he now?" Caravello's chubby face also lit up with a
grin. It did not make him look happy. "So now, Ograd—I may call you Ograd,
may I not? What's the story on this straz supply?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Story?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Caravello studied him in silence for a moment, and Simikus tried his
best not to squirm under the scrutiny. The Human had looked pleasant and
cheerful—at first. Now he seemed as cold as the storage space where Simikus
kept his ka'frindi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"What grade straz are we talking about? What volume? Who's your
supplier? How did you come to know about it, and where is it now?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Caravello seemed to place more emphasis on the last question, but even
in his jangled state of mind, Simikus had no intention of revealing that
information. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"It's top grade stuff, top grade." That sounded good, Simikus
thought, but Caravello regarded him impassively. Well, if that wasn't enough to
interest the Human, the quantity surely would. "I have one hundred and
ninety one grams of it." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Caravello's thin brows lifted, and Simikus could feel his confidence
lifting with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-50163052612605965542014-05-08T08:53:00.000-07:002014-05-08T08:53:00.598-07:00Part 10 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">They were strolling the back halls of the Starview, Simikus and Rudof. <i>Like
a couple of longtime friends!</i> He could almost believe such was the case,
given Dyll's chattiness…had it not been for the Vamir shadowing their
footsteps. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name, my friend,"
said Rudof. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Simi…Paxa. Ograd Paxa." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Ograd Paxa," echoed the Human. "Hmmm. Sounds familiar,
but I can't quite place it." He glanced back to the Vamir. "What
about you, Algensio?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Vamir shrugged his top set of arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Rudof lead them through a door and into a palatial office suite.
Simikus could not believe the size of the place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"This is, uh, very impressive," he breathed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"What, this? Just an office, dear chap. The office of the Starview
manager; he'll be along in a moment. He's a great friend of mine, so he allows
me to use it when I need a quiet place to…chat. Do you think it impressive,
really? Why, I have bathrooms larger than this."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Wide-eyed, Simikus found his imagination sweeping along, down possible
futures in which he himself lived so extravagantly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I can see you appreciate good taste," commented Rudof Dyll. "You
do realize, don't you, that such a lifestyle might be yours as well?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Is…is it safe to talk now?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"As safe as it gets. Have a seat. I'm sure when Master Caravello
arrives, he'll be…engrossed with your news," Dyll said as they reached the
long, floating band of a desk. He settled himself into a hoverchair cluttered
with pillows. Algensio hung back near the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus took another one of the hovering chairs and tried to muster his
composure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Silence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Nothing but silence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">No one said a word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Then a door behind the desk slid open and a Human appeared, his plump
form framed by the portal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-78812980687506331872014-05-06T08:52:00.000-07:002014-05-06T08:52:00.338-07:00Part 9 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn stepped from his shower, clean of the sewage plant, though not
feeling so. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Two dead Neeks. He couldn't honestly say that he cared, but he couldn't
get the fact that no slightest trace of either had been found. The thought
nagged at him as he donned a fresh uniform. Things just weren't adding up—the
freak explosion, and the missing Neek bodies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He couldn't make sense of it, and what he couldn't make sense of, he
attributed to Malik Blayne. And whereas fifty dead Neeks, much less two, matter
nothing at all to him, Malik Blayne was something else entirely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But if Blayne was responsible for the sewage plant explosion, what he
was up to and why was a mystery to Eversyn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He glanced to his clock on his wall. Oh eight thirty. Perhaps it wasn't
too late to have dinner with Rudof. Yes, an excellent idea. He could eat
elegant food, discuss his most recent problem…and secretly marvel at the man
who was rich enough to eat bov-steak at every meal if he wished.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">With a newfound smile on his face, Eversyn left his apartment, and
headed for the Starview Lounge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-44939868999103208662014-05-04T08:52:00.000-07:002014-05-04T08:52:00.123-07:00Part 8 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus winced at the grip on his arm, then gaped up at the huge
Modajai. The bouncer was a big as a cargo-lift. Dressed in a skintight singlet,
it was a wall of muscle covered by gray scaly skin. Its face was all square
angles and bony ridges.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Last chance, Neek. You got business here, or not?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I… I came to speak to, to Rudof Dyll."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Modajai scowled and tightened his grip. Simikus felt a tingling
numbness seeping into his fingers. "I m-m-mean, Master Dyll. I have a
business offer in which he may be interested."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Modajai glanced up toward the hovering platform. Simikus glanced
too and found the conveyance parked almost on top of them. He saw the lively
face of Rudof Dyll peering down at him quizzically. After a moment, Dyll nodded
to the Modajai.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"This way," growled the hulking bouncer as he half yanked,
half shoved Simikus toward a set of stairs near the edge of the main dance
floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus reached the upper end of the steps, and Rudof Dyll's platform
drifted over to meet him. Omega Station's most powerful inhabitant dismissed
the beings that had been his company, all save for an intimidating Vamir, and
motioned for Simikus to join him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Simikus could not believe his
great fortune. The Vamir aside, this was a private audience! Simikus sat a
little higher in his seat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Welcome to the Starview Lounge, my Nicovan friend," Dyll
began pleasantly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus, suddenly aware of the Vamir's skewering stare, nodded
nervously at Rudof Dyll. "Um, yes, it's very, very nice. Very posh."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Rudof Dyll's bejeweled eyelashes fluttered as he passed a grin to his
bodyguard. "Posh. I can't refute, can I, Algensio?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Vamir shook his head, without lifting his gaze from Simikus. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Dyll looked to Simikus, "Again, you're welcome here…not that I
have any say in the matter, of course. After all, I'm only a customer myself."
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Dyll's ornamented face turned away, and Simikus saw that others
scattered throughout the lounge were watching closely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus swallowed the instant unease that turn his heart cold with
fear. This was not the reception he had hoped for. He'd expected Dyll to start
negotiations at once, not deny that he had any interest in business.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Um. I, uh…I know where you can procure a large quantity of straz."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Dyll's green eyes widened and he leaned back in his seat. The Vamir had
reached across the table, seized Simikus's head-lobe and pushed his face into
an abandoned plate of food that one of Dyll's earlier guests had left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As Simikus wriggled futilely beneath the Vamir's iron grip, Rudof Dyll
leaned in close to his ear and whispered. "Never. Never, ever speak of
such subjects around me in public. Do you hear me, Neek?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus nodded his head as best he could with his face in a pile of
yeast steak. He heard Dyll snap his ringed fingers; Algensio released him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Cautiously, Simikus sat up straight and found Dyll offering him a
napkin, a wry grin on the Human's narrow face. He took it, and slowly wiped the
food from his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">What am I going to do? This is all wrong. What was I thinking? Was I
thinking? I've got to get out of here, but how do I do that now?</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He laid the soiled napkin on the table, and then Simikus's nerves
received yet another jolt; this time a good one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"You're stupid, but you have nerve, Neek. I like that. You
intrigue me. Why don't we go somewhere private and discuss this…merchandise?"
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">With wary eye on the Vamir, Simikus nodded at Dyll's invitation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 6pt 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-45387898082752454532014-05-02T08:50:00.000-07:002014-05-02T08:50:00.042-07:00Part 7 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Starview Lounge was one of the places where famous and important
sentients hung out. Rudof Dyll could sometimes be found there; Core, he
probably owned it. No secret there, the Dylls owned half of Omega Station. They
probably had stakes in the other half as well. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus stepped inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Starview was packed with patrons, its floors teaming with dancers
moving to the undulating rhythms of the live somasar music that filled the
establishment. Simikus felt instantly out of place, as all of the beings in his
immediate vicinity hurled a barrage of disdainful glances his way. Nicovan were
not popular with the general public. Only a few of his species had ever been
accepted into the social upper crust, and those grudgingly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Ignoring the glaring eyes, Simikus moved deeper into the restaurant.
Rudof Dyll was rumored to have his own private table. Simikus hoped the rumor
was true. If he could just speak to Dyll, he knew that he could convince the
rich Human to do business with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Nobody was ever rich enough, right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus looked around; he was growing increasingly anxious. Surely the
rumors of Dyll frequenting the place were true. They had to be; all of Simikus's
plans hinged on Rudof Dyll. Without Dyll, who else was big enough to deal with
Simikus on the level he wanted? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Malik Blayne, possibly, but that man was too enigmatic, too hard to
find. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">No. It had to be Rudof Dyll.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Just as he was beginning to sweat, Simikus looked up and spotted his
intended business partner. Dyll's table was situated on one of the floating
platforms drifting over the dance floors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Though he had never before laid eyes on Rudof Dyll, there was no doubt
in Simikus's mind as to who he was looking at. The Human was so wonderfully
gaudy that Simikus could only stare. What wealth, what style! Simikus sighed in
unconscious envy as he took in Dyll's loose, frilly shirt, studded with
sparkling… jewels? Yes, jewels by the score. Turning a faint purple with envy,
Simikus envisioned himself in such clothing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As the platform rotated in his direction, he was enraptured by the
profusion of glinting gold rings that marched up Dyll's ear lobes, wrapped
around his fingers, and there was even a ringlet looped through his right
nostril. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The only thing about Dyll's appearance that even Simikus's healthy
imagination could not apply to himself, was the red and yellow mane of hair
that the Human wore tied behind his head by a golden clasp. Nicovan had no
hair. Simikus smiled—well, then, what he lacked in hair, he would simply make
up for with additional jewels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Someone seized him by the arm and spun him about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"What do you think you're doing in here, Neek?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-80678963859244828002014-04-30T08:49:00.000-07:002014-04-30T08:49:00.386-07:00Part 6 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Captain Eversyn held a rag over his mouth and nose, to filter out the
stench of the sewage plant. He had been there less than five minutes and
already he had reached a conclusion concerning the explosion investigation. A
big fat <i>So what?</i> It was a sewage plant and the smell was so overpowering
that Eversyn could not care less what went on down there, past, present or
future.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">All he wanted now was to get out of the place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The plant overseer was short, fat, bald and shirtless… well…shirtless
only in a literal sense, since every inch of the man's pallid flesh was coated
in…Eversyn did not care to know. The husky Human stood nearly waste-deep in the
sludge, apparently without wading boots. He looked up at Eversyn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"So, what'ch figgered out, Cap'n?" He hocked a loogie, and
spat it out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn pressed the cloth more tightly to his face and suppressed a
gag. Why had he come down here? He could have sent someone else to check into
this; Benn, for instance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"You said…you said that one of your people is missing?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 131.5pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Two. I said two." <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"You're sure?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man snorted and held up three knobby fingers. "I kin count."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">All right, be quick, give the pretense of an investigation and get out
of here.</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Let me get their names."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"They was Neeks. I'm 'posed to know<i> their</i> names?" The
overseer guffawed at the very thought, waving it away dismissively. "Look,
alls I wanna knows is what cause the 'splosion. I don't needs to be around here
if they's gonna be another one, if you knows what I mean."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Believe me, I can understand not wanting to be around here."
Eversyn glanced around the tank. "You say they use electric prods to herd
the fungus?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Tha's right. Like this un." The overseer drew a grimy prod
from a hip pocket and handed it over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn braced himself before taking the cloth from his face and using
it to hold the prod. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The overseer rolled his blubber-squinched eyes. "Low voltage.
Nothin' special." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn considered the wisdom of using an electrical prod, however low
the voltage, while standing in liquid. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">It was a wonder something like this hadn't happened before now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He handed the prod back. "Well, if I had to guess, I'd say one of
these prods malfunctioned, exploded. That reacted to the gasses in the air,
resulting in the fire." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">That sound like enough of an answer. It was enough for him anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I would recommend you have someone perform a safety check on all
of the prods. No doubt they could all stand a little maintenance." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-22400687335180420922014-04-28T08:49:00.000-07:002014-04-28T08:49:00.105-07:00Part 5 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus Giff was euphoric as he pried the floor plating up and looked
inside the secret compartment. Icy air issued from the opening in white, misty
swirls. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Although he had already checked more than once and knew himself to be
alone in the maintenance corridor beneath the Wayamr district's atmoscyke
plant, Simikus nevertheless looked about the shadowy space before setting the
panel aside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Deep within the compartment, nestled snuggly against the coolant pipes,
were dozens of frosty vials—each laden with the frozen ka'frindi he had
patiently smuggled from the sewage plant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As ka'frindi, the fungus could have provide him with a comfortable
lifestyle—by Nicovan standards anyway—for years to come. But, with the secret
he had discovered about the delicacy, instead of comfortable, Simikus was going
to be rich beyond his most outlandish imaginings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He ran a hand across his chilly stash, noting his missing finger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Ah, yes. Time to fix that." He reached around one of the
frigid conduits and brought forth his long absent appendage. Using the pilfered
medical device, he thawed and reattached the finger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Welcome back, my little friend," he said, flexing the finger
until it regained its former flexibility.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Dressed in Ograd's yellow suit, his ka'frindi horde safe, and his
finger reattached, Simikus was ready for business. He replaced the floor plate
and then quietly stole away from the maintenance corridor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-61868364018566498822014-04-26T08:47:00.000-07:002014-04-26T08:47:00.048-07:00Part 4 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson <span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Captain Carle Eversyn read over the incident report as it scrolled
across his desktop holoscreen. Unless he was mistaken, there hadn't been any
explosions in any of Omega Station's sewage treatment plants since long before
he'd arrived as head of the Consolidated Guard a few standard months ago. An
addendum tagged to the end of the report confirmed what he'd already been
thinking, and then some. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There hadn't been an explosion in over a hundred cycles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He wondered how he should take the incident. On the one hand, it was
just the sewage plant, and the Rock had more than enough of those. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">On the other hand, this <i>was </i>Omega Station and everything meant
something more than was apparent at first glance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn sighed and called his secretary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Yes, Captain?" The young Halsan woman's voice practically
sparkled over the intercom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Please call Master Dyll and express my apologies, but I will have
to cancel our dinner meeting. Explain to him that an emergency has arisen and
duty calls."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Yes, Sir. Will there be anything further?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"That will be all, Lisolia, thank you." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He clicked the comsys off, then took his standard issue sidearm from
his desk drawer and holstered it, picked up his data pad and stylus, pocketed
them in his flack vest and headed for the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He hated missing his meeting with Rudof Dyll. From what he knew of
Dyll—and that wasn't very much—Eversyn was fairly confident that the most
influential sentient on the Rock would not take offense. On the contrary,
thought Eversyn, Dyll always seemed to take particular interest in his job. Why
was beyond Eversyn's ability to grasp. Politeness? Dyll didn't need to be
polite to anyone; he was too rich. Sincere curiosity in the routine headaches
of the head of the Consolidated Guard's presence on Omega Station? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Or perhaps Rudof Dyll simply sees me as an equal. </span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">That was a comforting thought and it kept him smiling all the way down
to the still flaming tanks of the sewage plant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-20459033886251285222014-04-24T08:46:00.000-07:002014-04-24T08:46:06.092-07:00Part 3 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">An hour from now, he would be Ograd Paxa, a Nicovan of means fresh off
the transport—registered this time with a hastily, albeit convincingly, forged
I.D. packet—come to Omega Station for entrepreneurial reasons.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Six levels up, the lift's doors opened Simikus stepped out onto the
crowded public mall of the Wayamr commercial quarter—and straight into the
broad chest of a Consolidated Guardsman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Slow it down," said the Connie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus felt numbed to the core, as if one of his prods had misfired in
its holster and paralyzed him. With a look of disgust, the Connie brushed him
aside and continued walking his beat. Simikus watched the officer's back until
the burly Human became lost in the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">When he could feel his legs again, Simikus started walking…more slowly
this time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Lighten up," he muttered. "There's no need to get all
paranoid just yet. The plan is good, it's working perfectly." He looked
around, found the corridor he was looking for and headed down it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Several turns later, Simikus stopped outside the door of his new home,
the pod of Ograd Paxa. Ograd Paxa. He smiled; he would have to get used to
using that name from now on. Looking to his left and right, Simikus double
checked for any passersby. Seeing none, he drew Paxa's finger from his breast
pocket and pressed it to the access panel next to the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The door to the pod clicked open. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He was in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus closed the door and immediately reprogrammed the pod to accept
his own fingerprint. He then disposed of the lonely digit in the recyke vat. He
would be glad once he'd reattached his own finger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He looked around the tiny dwelling. For a sewer worker, Paxa kept an amazingly
clean home. It had been years since Simikus had been inside a room that didn't
smell of sludge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Well, never you mind keeping this hole in order. By this evening
you'll be shopping for something much roomier and a maid service to keep it
clean." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus rummaged through Ograd's closet. Ograd Paxa had a surprisingly
large wardrobe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Five outfits!" Simikus was flabbergasted. Then his eyes
alighted on one in particular. "What style! Who would ever have guessed
you had such taste, Ograd?" He pulled a dapper coverup from the rack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Dressed in the dead Nicovan's clothes, Simikus apprised himself in the
mirror. The deep yellow coverup with its dark blue piping contrasted nicely
with his creamy green skin and black eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"You already look rich," he cooed to himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He angled his head for one last look at the lobe pointing straight off
the back of his skull; nice and shiny. He looked great. He felt great. He<i>
was</i> great!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-86401218265586765312014-04-22T08:46:00.000-07:002014-04-22T08:46:03.841-07:00Part 2 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus twisted his sudden scowl into a smile. "Back here. Follow
me." He led Ograd deeper into the shadows behind one of the huge sewage
flumes that delivered the Rock's waste to the recyke center. With his face concealed
in shadow, Simikus allowed himself a wicked grin as he thought back to the day,
just a cycle ago, when Ograd Paxa had shipped in to Omega Station and come to
work at the plant, one of the few places that asked no questions when hiring. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">They bore a striking resemblance to one another, he and Ograd, more
than enough for his purposes. Simikus was hard pressed to view Ograd's arrival
as anything short of divine intervention; it was as if he'd been sent straight
from the Core. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And that being so, Simikus had promptly adapted his plan to incorporate
the convenient newcomer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"That's far enough, I haven't got all day," spat Ograd. "Give
it to me."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus turned to face his co-worker. "My pleasure," he
hissed just as he jabbed one of his prods into Ograd's throat and activated it.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Ograd went rigid, gagged once, then collapsed into the sludge. Simikus
was on him at once, holding him below the viscous filth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">At last Ograd ceased thrashing and floated limply, face up in the
sludge. Simikus stood up and checked the time. Five minutes before shift
change. He glanced back toward the main sludge tank. No sign of the
surveillance drone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Nub, eh. Thought that was funny, did you?" he asked Ograd's
corpse. "Well, it's a pity you're no longer here to appreciate this."
Simikus removed a small surgical device from his coverup pocket. Acting
quickly, before Ograd's tissues began to die, Simikus removed the third finger
of the dead Nicovan's left hand. Then, resetting the device, he used it to heal
up the wound. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As he put the surgical device away, Simikus congratulated himself for
having thought of amputating his own finger, which would serve as an
identifying mark. He missed the digit, but not for much longer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Next, he took the prod he had used to incapacitate Ograd, one of many
he'd modified over the years for various purposes, and set it to overload. He
stuck it in the dead Neek's right hand. Everything was in place. As the prod
began to whine, Simikus turned and splashed a safe distance away, into a side
corridor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Only a few seconds later the prod exploded. Sludge and sewage ignited
in a rolling wave of fire. Alarms wailed and frightened workers headed for the
exits, on to meet the incoming shift in a rush of panicked chaos. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Amid the confusion, Simikus slipped away, leaving the sewage plant and
his past behind him…forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-76155130935850670652014-04-20T08:45:00.002-07:002014-04-20T08:45:28.145-07:00Part 1 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus Giff sloshed through the waste deep sludge of Omega Station's
sewage treatment plant. Each hand held a low-voltage prod with which he
shepherded the highly prized ka'frindi fungus into the floating collection
bins.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He had come to work in Omega Station's sewage plant almost thirteen
standard months ago. And he might have lived that miserable period under some
illusion of contentment had it not been for a moment of enlightenment during
his second cycle on the job; a moment in which he learned that the slimy film
he and his co-workers were forever cleaning from the sludge tanks was not
simply sewage scum but rather the valuable ka'frindi fungus, renowned as a food
additive for its flavor enhancing and endorphin releasing qualities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The major export—in fact, pretty much the only export—of Omega Station.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">From that fateful moment on, the irony of his station in life had not
been lost on the Nicovan, and harvesting the valuable delicacy—a mere gram of
which sold for more than he earned in a full pay-cycle—had become both the bane
of his existence as well as the promise of a better future. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">That future, he decided, was just about to begin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus's work shift would end in another few minutes. He
surreptitiously glanced around for the plant overseer's patrolling surveillance
drone. He caught sight of the floating machine just as it drifted off into the
neighboring tank-room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Now was his chance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There was only one other crucial detail to confirm. He looked around
through the fetid vapors rising from the sludge, his anxiety mounting, until he
saw the next part of his plan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Ograd!" he hissed. "Over here." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ograd, another a Nicovan like
himself—nearly all of the plant's workers were Nicovan, a laxly regulated,
cheap labor force—stopped pretending to herd the still yellow fungus and
squinted his black eyes to see through the gloom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"There you are, Nub," growled Ograd. The nickname referred to
that fact that Simikus's left hand was missing its third finger. Simikus
grinned, though the expression held anything but humor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Be quiet. Come here." Simikus kept a nervous eye out for the
surveillance drone as Ograd splashed towards him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I want my money now," demanded Ograd without delay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Sure, sure, of course," said Simikus readily enough, though
he made no attempt to produce the credits. "Does anyone know you're here?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Of course not, I snuck in. Nobody will be looking for me for
another ten minutes, when my shift begins. Now where's my money?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-48365976099032636732014-04-18T08:57:00.000-07:002014-04-20T08:57:38.259-07:00Part 15 of SCUM by J. A. Johnson
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn regarded Caravello for a moment, then Simikus. The manager
turned his desktop computer screen toward the Connie. "See," he said,
"the door scanner even confirms it. Wilfor Kudisi."<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn scrutinized the picture on the screen then studied Simikus. If
there was anyone on the Rock with a need for tight, efficient security it would
be the Starview Lounge, since everyone—who could afford it—frequented the
place. The captain had no reason to question the scan. Still…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"You know what they all say about Neeks. They all look alike,"
Eversyn said. Everyone but Simikus laughed at the insult. "So I'm sure you
won't object if I run a background check on your <i>friend</i>."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Of course not." Caravello's smug grin stayed firmly in
place. "I understand."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Petrified, Simikus watched as Eversyn laid the data pad atop the desk
holoscreen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Don't worry, Wilfor, it's just routine," said Caravello, his
tone calm and reassuring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Simikus nodded meekly, but he was trapped nonetheless. His forged Ograd
Paxa ID would be all but useless now, since the only <i>officially </i>registered
identification he had was as Simikus Giff. He had planned to remedy that detail
after he had been paid his fortune. If he tried to run, the Connie would
definitely arrest him and run the check anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As he walked what seemed like the thousand meters to the desk, Simikus
became aware of the angular case of ka'frindi biting into his chest. <i>It's
just ka'frindi,</i> he reminded himself, <i>perfectly legal. Eversyn would
simply assume it belongs to the Starview. They serve it on their menu, after
all.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Place your palm on the pad," Eversyn instructed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In utter defeat, Simikus wiped the sweat from his hand and complied.
With all three of his eyes closed and his breath held, he waited for Eversyn to
slap a pair of sono-cuffs on him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But he didn't. Simikus half opened one eye. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Is it broken?" he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"My apologies, Master Caravello, Master Dyll," Eversyn said,
ignoring Simikus. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Rudof shrugged and smiled. "No apologies are necessary to me,
Captain. You're just doing your job; which, I might add, is more than can be
said for your predecessors."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Indeed, Captain; I completely concur with Master Dyll,"
murmured Caravello.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eversyn pocketed his data pad and rose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"I hate that I missed our dinner, Rudof. And, unfortunately, I
must be on my way again. The more I think about that explosion at the sewage
plant, the more it troubles me."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"How so?" Dyll asked. He rose, obviously preparing to walk
the Connie captain to the door. A blush spread over the captain's face at this
sign of courtesy from the Rock's richest resident. "Do you think the
missing Nicovan are responsible?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"Possibly. But it's just as possible that they're dead and that
the real culprit is still at large."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-87604217702507828152014-04-10T10:00:00.000-07:002014-04-10T10:00:01.309-07:00Part 14 of UNDERWORLD by K.G. McAbee<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The voice didn't
sound happy. Malik wondered if he should reach out in the darkness that now
surrounded him, but was afraid he might lose more parts of himself.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Here, drink
this."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A beaker, cold
against his lips, poured a burning fluid down his throat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik coughed as
liquid fire coursed through his body, jerking him unceremoniously back to full
consciousness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He sat up,
protesting weakly, "What the shit…?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Crila put one
hand—her meat hand; the other one was metal and alloy—on his chest and pushed
him back down onto what was, he discovered by squinting through the gloom, the
floor of Dhamu's bar. The burly, massive Ferajai barkeep himself, his yellow
eyes red-rimmed from the smoke that still filled the air, towered over them,
and dangling from one hand was an ancient Dondaro Mark Five blaster, huge,
bulky and cycles out of date. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">How the hells
does he even get charges for it</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">,
Malik wondered blearily. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He blinked and shook
his head. "What the…?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Yeah, yeah, we
already heard that one," groused Crila in her hoarse, I've-tried-to-breathe-vac-too-many-times-and-failed
voice. "Creative conversationalist you ain't, Malik."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik gave it
another try, his mind as cloudy as the atmosphere. "Where did…?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"By Bhagnor's
scales, you was laying in the middle of that pile of bodies right outside my
door." Dhamu shook his head, the light glinting off the grey-green scales
that covered it in thick layers. "Them damn Connies run off and—"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Tau!"
Malik sat up in a blaze of sudden memory…then slumped forward as his head
threatened to explode. He took deeps breaths through his mouth, trying not to
puke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Yes, I saw him
run through here, right as that damn riot started outside," Dhamu nodded. "Didn't
see what happened to him but the boy can take care of hisself, you know that,
Malik. Hells, he's been running the tunnels all his life. Ain't nobody knows
the Depths like Tau."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Yah, he does."
Malik coughed, fairly sure he wasn't going to puke in his lap, but not willing
to risk any credits on it. "But I gotta go check on him, make sure he's
all right."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik struggled up,
checked to see if his blaster was still in its holster, and tried to summon up
his second best grin for his two friends. From their expressions, the attempt
was a dismal failure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"I know some of
Tau's secret cribs. If the Connies didn't get him, he'll go to hole in one of
them when he can. Thanks for the rescue. I owe you both one."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"You and that
boy," Crila sighed as she sprang lithely to her feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"What happened
here, Cril?" Mal asked, cursing himself for not saying anything earlier. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She shrugged. "Had
me a little run-in with a Spacer who tried to leave without tipping." She
motioned towards the pile of bodies outside the door. The local residents were
busily stripping them of anything valuable. "That's him there, see? The
one with the shaved head and the missing ear?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mal wasn't really
interested in seeing what little Cril had done to the big spacer, but it was
only polite to look. "Serves him. Should have known better. That what
started everything?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Them damn
Connies showed up," Dhamu said, in as excited a tone as a Ferajai ever
managed, which wasn't very. "Spouted something about keeping the peace.
That didn't make anybody too happy. So a fight broke out, a course. Most
customers ran or rolled out to have some fun, and Cril threw the ones that didn't
behind."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Cril, we're
not as young as we used to be." Mal eyed the cut on her forehead. "You
need to be more careful."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Why Mal, my
dear old boy, I didn't know you cared." Crila grinned at him, her purple
eyes gazing out of the palest of faces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"I do."
Malik grinned back her. "You practically the only family I have. Want to
go help me find Tau?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"One a these
days, Malik, one a these days, that Hu-man boy's gonna land you in a pile of
bov-shit up to your eyes…" Dhamu shook his massive head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The sound of scales
rubbing against scales echoed in the low room. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">End of UNDERWORLD. Next: SCUM by J.A. Johnson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-84916141918108348002014-04-09T10:00:00.000-07:002014-04-09T10:00:04.239-07:00Part 13 of UNDERWORLD by K.G. McAbee<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A scream.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik was pretty
sure it was his own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He jerked up, sick,
fighting dizziness, opened his eyes…and at once wished he'd managed to forgo
that less than dubious pleasure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He sat on an
unyielding floor. The room that enclosed him couldn't be near an outer lev,
judging from its shape: an opening carved from solid rock in a weird
conglomerate of non-Euclidean angles, angles that hurt his eyes. <i>Something</i>
hurt his eyes, anyway…and his head and his chest and, in point of fact, all the
multitudes of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Somewhere in the
Depths, natch,</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> he thought
hazily. <i>Where else would I be? </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He opened his mouth
to complain about the sharp stone that jutted into his back…and watched with
varying degrees of calmness as his tongue detached itself and rolled out of his
mouth, to pool like a slimy snake in his lap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik snapped his
now empty mouth closed as the room shifted around him, the walls changing from
grey-green-brown to blinding blue-white. He was no longer in a small unidentifiable
corner of Omega Station, but onboard a ship—in the control room, no less, of
the old <i>End of Time</i>. Before him stood Executive Officer Vezmir Zad<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> in all his glory: beefy arms,
stocky legs, a chest as broad as the buttocks of a Carindo whore, and a face
that would make a mother wimmerbat cry.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Blayne!"
roared Zad, his face turning an interesting shade of purple as he motioned
towards Malik's feet. "What do you mean, coming to the con like that?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik,
interested, looked down—careful not to open his mouth and display his
tongueless state. His feet, while bare, looked no different than normal, and he
often manned the con partially dressed or even naked. After all, the <i>Time </i>wasn't
a military ship; she was a pirate-rig.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Then he looked
again. Yes, his feet were bare. Unfortunately, they weren't in their normal
position, attached to the bottoms of his legs. Instead they were wandering
around loose, as if seeking their missing homes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik could
feel another scream building as he watched his feet scrabbling on the deck,
which was no longer white but a pale, translucent gray. This new color lingered
for a moment before turning black. He wondered what would happen if he opened
his mouth to let the scream he was biting back escape, and he wondered too
exactly where his tongue had disappeared to—was it lying in wait somewhere,
ready to pounce on his defenseless feet?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Malik?"
This voice didn't belong to Zad—and anyway, Malik recalled in sudden clarity,
XO Vezmir Zad had died spectacularly and with a great many frozen plumes of
blood, just after Maryn Meredi had him spaced out the airlock of the old <i>Time</i>.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">So the voice
didn't, couldn't, belong to Zad…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Then who?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="Typewriter"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Malik?"
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-47481754209374565232014-04-08T10:00:00.000-07:002014-04-08T10:00:05.186-07:00Part 12 of UNDERWORLD by K.G. McAbee<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">No luck. No damn
luck at all.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Connies surged out
of the promenade, filling the corridor outside the door to Dhamu's bar, and
Malik could see fighting going on inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">How did they get
here so damned quick? </span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
peered down through a ceiling vent, coughing as the smoke and fumes were sucked
past him by the huge vent fans. Below him spread a maelstrom of fear and
confusion, as green blaster fire and red blasts from older models made crazy
stained rainbows of the gray-blue smoke, and faces faded in and out of
recognition as rickety circulation fans roared to keep up with the intensified
flow of foul air. Screams and protests echoed up to his hidden post; he shook
his head and began to wiggle slowly into a narrow passageway that led to Dhamu's
storerooms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Hey,
bov-brain! Over here! You looking for me?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Damn, damn, damn!</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Tau's voice. Tau the Silent, hellfire! That
boy <i>never</i> knew when to keep his mouth shut!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik slithered
back, cursing softly, and crouched over the vent, one hand poised to slam down
across the mesh, the other with blaster ready. His brown eyes searched,
searched through the confusion below, seeking the lanky figure of the Human
boy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Yeah, you! You
void brains couldn't catch a rattie with a cage full of cheese!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There he was! The
black castoffs the boy wore faded in and out of focus in the smoke-filled
gloom, but Malik could see where he was standing now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Can't find
your own asses with four hands and a metal detector—"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">What the Core was
the boy doing? Was he <i>trying</i> to get a face full of blaster?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik slammed his
empty hand down on the wire mesh that covered the access panel, but the rusty
screws held firm for a change. He slammed again, again, and they gave way with
a clatter. The mesh fell on the head of a Connie who had a blaster pointed at
Tau. The blaster went off, wide, two meters away from the boy—and Tau turned
and ran.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Thank the Core!
At least he's got sense enough to—<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Half a dozen
Connies—apparently deciding that an unarmed boy's insults were a safer bet than
scores of angry LowLevs with contraband weapons and rocks and fists—took off
after him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik dropped from
the ceiling, cursing fluently, started after them…and tripped over a body.
Seconds later, what felt like a steel-toed boot connected firmly with the side
of his head…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-73135542098623904602014-04-06T10:00:00.000-07:002014-04-06T10:00:02.746-07:00Part 11 of UNDERWORLD by K.G. McAbee<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Unfortunately, Mal
never expected to get caught up in a minor war on the way to Dhamu's.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He pressed his back
hard against the cold rock wall of a minor side corridor on LevSix, his heart
pounding, scrabbling almost unconsciously for the blaster strapped to his
thigh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Damn that boy</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">, he cursed silently. <i>Can't he just meet
me at Dhamu's for a sandwich without starting some kinda bov-shit?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A wall of Connies
stretched across the wider corridor a few meters in front of him. They were
suited out in riot-control gear: heavy coveralls, thick with blaster-resistant
cordion lining; nightsticks with leaded ends; and on hip or thigh or both, a
blaster, ranging from light to heavy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Stay calm,
citizens," shouted a heavyset woman with a surly expression and the eyes
of a straz-head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">What the hell is
going on?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"We're not here
to interfere with your business," continued the woman, a sergeant by her
insignia. "We just want to ask a few questions."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Sure. Just
questions…just questions </span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">always<i> went with riot gear. Maybe it wasn't Tau
who started this.</i></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik began to edge
quietly backwards, into a maintenance shaft that he could use to bypass the promenade
and get to Dhamu's the back way. It was just a couple of corridors over. Shit,
he could almost smell the beer from here…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Across from Malik's
position, two spacers came pounding down a corridor—and slammed into the line
of Connies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A Connie swatted his
blaster across the face of one spacer, knocking her to the littered floor. Her
companion—Malik could smell the fumes of liquor coming off her clear across the
corridor—gave a yell and jumped the cop who'd hit her companion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">As if that had been
a signal, all hell broke loose. Screams and shouts echoed as a barrage of
objects—pipes, bottles, unidentifiable crap scooped up from the floor—rained
down on the heads of the Connies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"We're under
attack!" shouted the Connie sergeant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Good</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">, Malik thought. <i>They'll retreat, go get
reinforcements, and by the time they get—</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Return fire!"
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Blaster fire laced
out, catching a man standing a few meters from Malik full in the belly. The man's
mouth opened in a blood-filled scream, and he fell to the floor, smoking bowels
oozing out like lazy snakes to curl around his twitching torso. A woman, whose
right leg had suddenly mutated into a charred stump below the knee, was dancing
crazily on the other towards a side corridor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik's blaster was
in his hand, but he had no real target as smoke and fumes filled the promenade.
No use. He had something else more important to do, anyway; warn Dhamu and the
others, make sure Tau had made it there okay, then get them all the hell
further into the Depths until this bov-shit died down. With any luck, the
Connies would bypass the corridor leading to the bar…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik raced to the
back of the maintenance passage, kicked in an access panel, and with a grunt,
squeezed his body into a tunnel half a size too small for him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-59962040085862799772014-04-04T10:00:00.000-07:002014-04-04T10:00:03.057-07:00Part 10 of UNDERWORLD by K.G. McAbee<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik Blayne stalked
a long corridor haphazardly cut from the rock of the Rock. It crisscrossed,
intersected, and connected to a multitude of other tunnels, corridors and
passageways, some nearly empty, some teeming with all sorts of life.
Maintenance panels blocked with rusted grates peppered the walls, ceiling and
floor. He took what looked to be random turns…but were not.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The combined smells
of Humans, dirt, a multitude of other species, fungus, mold, garbage and the general
funk of an area that had never seen a sun rose in a miasma so thick it was
almost as if he had to cut his way through it. It'd been a while since he'd
been down the Depths. He had always hoped the smell would become less
noticeable as he got used to it, but it hadn't, not so far. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He put up with it.
He had to. But that didn't mean he had to like it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A turn. Up ahead a
busy intersection. Malik slowed, then slipped into a cross-passage, ducked
behind a pair of L'Taltons. Their feathery crests and round, plump bodies
effectively shielded him from view of anyone in the larger corridor he'd just
left—especially the pair of patrolling Connies in their grey uniforms that he'd
seen turn a corner and start his way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik nodded at the
L'Taltons, who squawked a polite reply, and headed down a ramp that led from
LevFive into the less crowded—and more dangerous—LevSix.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Mal! My
Hu-man! Come in, take load off! Whatcha got for me this beautiful day?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The shop was a hole
gouged from rock on the broad Zeta Corridor of LevSix, sandwiched between an
around-the-chrono bar and an inter-species brothel. The proprietor was a
shorter than usual—meaning he came barely to Mal's waist—ginger-furred Bansnict
named Mrrrow-Gumg, who had delusions of being a five-star merchant even though
his shop barely rated a quarter star on its best day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Not that it ever had
a best day, Malik thought as he looked at the sad collection of wares for sale.
Hand tools, obviously not of the highest quality polybdalloy, since many were
chipped and rusted from the everlasting humidity; MRIs, meals ready for
ingestion, the foil packs quite visibly resealed—Mal shuddered to think what
they might contain; ragged clothing with unimaginable stains, and piles of the
flotsam and jetsam thrown off from the collision of many cultures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Nothing for
you today, Mrrow. Looking for Tau the Silent. Seen him around the last few?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mrrow shook his
head, his wide ears widening further and standing taller. "Not for few.
What you want with skinny Hu-man boy? Not even good for eating." Mrrow
grinned, displaying a mouthful of sharp teeth, several of them alloy-plated. A
long pink tongue snaked out, wiped the corner of one of the Bansnict's green
eyes. "That boy trouble. Thief."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"And you're
not?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mrrow's grin
widened. "Merchant. Not same, most times." He gave the wiggle that,
in his species, passed for a shrug. "Some times, anyway."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Well, if you
see Tau, telling him I'll buy him a meal at Dhamu's Place."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"That place not
good food, Mal! Wait." Mrrow reached into his shop—not difficult, as even
his diminutive arm could reach almost to the back wall—and pulled out a
selection of MRIs. "Here good food!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"I don't think
so, Mrrow." Mal shook his head, grinned to offset the insult to the
Bansnict's wares, and strolled away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Tau would get the
message. Tell a Bansnict, tell the System. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Flaming Core, he'd
probably beat Mal there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-16779365337576169942014-04-02T10:00:00.000-07:002014-04-02T10:00:03.827-07:00Part 9 of UNDERWORLD by K.G. McAbee<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik strode back to
the center of the hall, reached up and laid his thumb against an almost
undetectable indention near the ceiling. A hatch slid open in the wall near the
floor. Malik jerked his hand away, reached inside, scrambled for a bar set in
the ceiling, and jumped into the hatch, feet first. It closed behind him with a
soft <i>snkt</i>.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He kept his eyes
shut as he slid several meters down the tube; he didn't like enclosed spaces.
At last his boot soles hit an obstruction. He opened an eye—useless in the
dense darkness—then fumbled for another indention. In this one, he stuck his
other thumb.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">An opening beneath
his feet—light billowed up around him—Malik slid out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The room was low and
irregular, carved from the rock of the planetoid itself. There was the faint
and ever pervasive odors of mold and fungus. Cases were stacked everywhere,
labeled <i>food, armory, ammo</i> in seven languages and four glyphs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik filled his
pack with a selection of dried foods in polybdalloy packages, strapped a
blaster to his thigh, then walked through the cave. After several twists and
turns—the cave stretched for some distance and he descended towards the
interior of the planetoid with each step—Malik reached a clear area. No crates
littered the floor, and here the construction had been done with more care. The
walls were straight and true, and he could stand upright without the danger of
hitting his head on a jagged protruding rock spike, and walk without dodging
boulders. On the far side of the smaller cavern, a transparent cylindrical tube
rested on three heavy supports, from the center of which came the constant hum
of a life-stasis system.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Within the tube
floated the long lean body of a naked man. His russet brown hair, liberally
streaked with white, floated in an aurora around his head in the clear gel that
surrounded him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Good evening,
Rudof," said Malik as he checked the dials and filters. "I'm off on a
visit to the underworld. I'll send everyone your love, shall I?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The eyes of the
floating figure blinked once, so slowly that Malik had disappeared before they'd
made one full circuit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-10940984818431395062014-03-31T10:00:00.000-07:002014-03-31T10:00:05.524-07:00Part 8 of UNDERWORLD by K.G. McAbee<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Rudof Dyll had
stripped off his clothes and jewels as he walked across his bedroom, and now
stood under a stinging needle-spray of hot water in a shower pod big enough for
four. He squeezed a handful of scented soap from a wall-mounted dispenser and
scrubbed his face with both hands, then let the water wash away all traces of
makeup. He stepped away from the spray, bent over a basin set in the opposite
wall, squirted out a handful of soap from a different dispenser, and began
washing his hair. The coppery red color slithered off and into the basin, which
caught the organic dye for future use.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Rudof stepped out of
the shower pod into a small anteroom that shot out jets of warm air to dry him.
Then he stalked into his bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Naked, Rudof Dyll
barely resembled his public image. Tall and lanky, lean but well-muscled, he
carried himself straight, head high, and strode confidently around the
room—instead of the strolling, slouching, lazy figure that had just left an
impromptu dinner party at the Starview Lounge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There was a long
laser burn stretching across his back, from the top of his right shoulder to
his left hip, and thick white lesions encircled his wrists and ankles—manacle
scars, and the kind that were not acquired in a day, but took years to develop.
His hair, with the dye washed out, was a dark nondescript brown liberally
streaked with white. Brown too were the clothes he selected from a concealed
closet set behind a high armoire. It looked too heavy to move—and was, unless
you knew the secret catch that shifted it forward. He slid into a baggy brown
jumpsuit with zippered pouches, much like the ones worn by freighter
crewmembers, and slid his feet into battered boots.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Pausing before a
mirror, he reached up and popped out his green contacts and peeled off the
jewel-tipped lashes; brown eyes stared out of a narrow face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Rudof Dyll regarded
himself in the mirror, a smile on lips no longer a garish red. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Goodbye, Master
Dyll; hello, Malik Blayne." The smile twisted into a snarl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The former Rudof,
now Malik, scrambled in the secret closet and retrieved a battered backpack. He
hefted the pack as the armoire returned to its former position, then glanced
around the room to make sure everything was secure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The backpack was
almost empty. He'd have to fill up on his way down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Malik hit the
palm-lock on his way out the door, strode down a hallway, took a right turn, a
left, and stopped in the middle of a shorter hall. Silence permeated the dome,
but Malik hadn't got to his somewhat precarious position by taking chances. He
tiptoed to the end of the hall, just to make sure that no one was waiting
around the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Clear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It was always clear.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But he always
checked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831932406156566032.post-76856808941294237562014-03-29T10:00:00.000-07:002014-03-29T10:00:06.644-07:00Part 7 of UNDERWORLD by K.G. McAbee<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Oh, certainly,
Honored Citizen; very pretty indeed…working in your conservatory." The
slaver winked one of his three eyes knowingly and turned away, delightedly
calculating his percentage of the sale price.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Throob,"
Algensio said thoughtfully as they left the slaver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Yes, you're
right, of course," Rudof replied absently. "More trouble than they're
worth, probably. But what else could I do?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Throob,"
Algensio agreed with a sigh and a shake of his furry head. A wide red tongue
rolled out and licked away a few remaining traces of dinner from his chin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Cutting their way
past the rest of the stalls, they reached the edge of Dome Seven and the ground
shuttle airlock. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Dyll Dome,"
Rudof said, waving a jeweled hand. The lockkeeper nodded eagerly and escorted
them through the triple sets of heavy doors. He ushered them into the shuttle
and set the coordinates for them before returning to the corridor, eyeing the
huge tip in his hand with satisfaction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A whirr, a click,
and the tiny shuttle sped across its preprogrammed path towards a small
pearlescent dome that glistened in the black distance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The shuttle's path
was a twisting one. The surface of Omega Station at first glance resembled
nothing more than tumbled piles of boulders, some heaped far higher than the
huge domes that spotted its surface. But on closer inspection, clear places
were hidden amongst the rocks, of sizes varying from a few meters square to
large enough for the placement of sizable domes. In the distance, but crisp and
clear through the vacuum, loomed the huge structures of the official docking
platforms and trading stations that were the reason for the Rock's existence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The shuttle beeped
twice, gave a last right angle turn, and slowed slightly as its onboard
navicomp re-checked the position programmed by the lockkeeper. A few seconds
later, it snicked home in one of the Dyll Dome's personnel airlocks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Home at last."
Rudof Dyll sighed as he unkinked his lanky form from the uncomfortable seat and
waved Algensio through the airlock ahead of him, pausing to hit the return
button on the navicomp. The shuttle beeped twice politely, and as soon as the
inside dome door closed, disengaged and sped back towards Dome Seven.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Algensio stretched
all four arms and opened his mouth in a wide yawn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Yes, do
hibernate a while, dear fellow," Rudof agreed. "I've got to go out
again, I'm afraid."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Throob?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Rudof shrugged. "No,
not as Rudof. Not tonight." He patted his huge companion on one arm. "Don't
wait up."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
KGMcAbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07897495921776920626noreply@blogger.com0