Here is a fun couple of short chapters that I may turn into a longer story or even a novel. This is tech sci fi in a modern setting. High use of slang and first person. It ties to an original story I wrote years ago called Psuedo-Time. Hopefully you enjoy it. Let me know.
Chapter 1 – Eat at Mel’s
“She’s crazy you know?” He was talking about Cherry.
I looked at Mel’s craggy face, now covered in a grin as rough as his brows. “So?”
“So she’ll get you iced.”
I ignored Mel’s hard look and fiddled with his merchandise. I picked up an AK and racked it, watching and feeling the mechanism work. Empty, nothing flew out to clatter on the cold concrete floor of the run down warehouse. Disappointing. The noise sounded loud in the silence and echoed slightly.
“I mean it, Zig. She’s already got you thinkin’ about helpin’, hasn’t she?” Mel’s grin had slipped. His ugly mother-hen face was showing concern.
“So what are you askin’ for this banger?” I feigned some interest.
After an initial flash of pleasure at a sale, Mel snorted and rubbed the scar on the side of his jawline. “You can’t distract me that easy. I’m telling you, man. She’s trouble!” His hand slid up onto his bald head and scratched for a moment. “What do you have for creds anyway?”
“I got 4,300. Bet that’ll buy a couple of these. Couple a dozen.” I had 2,800. Ok, a little under that, but real creds would buy a lot right now with the Troubles making business bad.
“You don’t want those if you got real dough.” Mel turned his back to me and did something under his counter. The whole wall slid up taking all the products and shelves with it. Now the wall was covered with bright shiny stainless MK8s.
My mouth must have been hanging open cause Mel’s laugh barked out sharply which returned my attention to him. His grin was back, bigger than ever. He pulled one of the bangers down. “Feel this baby.”
I caught it as he tossed it over the counter. Light. Maybe a third the weight of any gun I’d ever held before. “Caseless,” he went on. “Full auto, burst or single mode. Comes with a full chamber of titanium rounds and old steel hollow points. That under-barrel holds shotgun rounds. The switch on the side selects which you want to use. Full auto or bursts. Single shots if you like.” He pointed to one of the MKs on the shelf, showing me where the setting was.
“Weird. Nothin’ to rack. Is it empty now?”
He leaned forward, elbows on the counter. Caution creeping in at the edges of his face. “Not empty. But it can’t fire unless I give you the key. Long as you got the key for that gun right there, no one else can use it. An’ if they try to mod it, baby blows on ‘em. Real messy. Not pretty.” His toothy smile and the glint in his eyes hinted at just how amusing he found its self-destruct app.
“These are Skad issue only. You got MK8s with keys? Mel! My respect for you has gone up, buddy.” I wanted it. Nothing like this had ever come my way before. May not again depending on how Cherry’s little venture worked out. “So… How much?”
Mel sauntered around his counter to stand by me. “For you, Zig? To keep you breathing, son, I’ll let you have it for 4,000.”
I looked at it as critically as I could, considering the lust I felt for it. “Awww. This thing is probably useless. A show piece. All glitter and no blow.” I set it down on his counter acting as if it were some nasty gunk found in the street. “4,000 for a probable sting? Mel, I love ya man, but you know… I can’t risk that kinda dough on somethin’ with no proof.”
Mel’s large overweight frame bristled. “Your lack of trust cuts me to the bone. Zig, you’re like a little brother to me. And here you are hanging around with Cherry Baby. I worry about you boy.” He sighed loudly. “Tell you what I’m gonna do… I’ll give you a twenty percent discount. You give me 3,200 and you get the key. Try it out and if it ain’t workin’, bring it back.” He spread his arms up towards the wall of weapons. “I got a few to trade till you get a good one if you’re really that scared.”
“Scared?” that pissed me off. “I’m not scared. You ever seen me scared, Mel?” I must have done something, ‘cause Mel backed up a couple of steps and raised his hand defensively. Sometimes my mods go off and after all these years, I don’t even notice anymore.
“N-No, Zig. Boy… T-that’s just a figure of speech.”
Irritated, I said, “2,000. I’ll see if I like it. If I like it, I’ll come back and we’ll talk about some more of them.”
Mel’s grin was back again. “Sure. Sure, Zig. Two is fine. You being my bud, ya know.” I blinked. That was a bit too quick for Mel. I casually looked around. Everything looked normal. Mel chattered on. “Put the two on the counter an I’ll put the key here. You come pick up the key an I go pick up the dough. Kapish?”
“Why the good deal, Mel?” I picked the shiny MK up again. “I know you’re like sweet on me, but… Business is business, you always say.”
“S-sweet on you? Ha-ha.” Mel was sweating. His face was getting shiny. “No. Not like that. It’s just…. I gotta move these, an I like you, so… I figger better you get the deal than some skuzz who’s lookin to wack someone fer fun. Y’know.” He shrugged.
I just stared at him and waited.
“Zig. C’mon.” Mel swallowed hard and shot a furtive glance at the door leading to the alley.
He was either going to run, or he expected someone to come in. I leaned on the counter and purposely looked at the doorway. Then him. I wanted him to know I knew. Even if I didn’t know, especially since I didn’t know. “Gimme the key.”
Mel was shaking now. “Yeah. Sure, Zig. Here…” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a chrome key-bob looking thing. He slid it along the counter to me. He hadn’t quibbled about not being offered the dough. It raised the hair on the back of my neck.
“How many? I asked as I picked up the key.
“It wasn’t me, Zig. You know, I’d a never…” Mel was backin’ away.
“Sure, Mel. How many?” I hooked the key on my belt. With the key next to the gun, this time when I racked it, I could feel the first round move into the chamber.
“Its Skank.” Mel looked like he was going to cry. “He’s in the building an he’ll be here any time. Him an his crew. You know, he was gonna ice me, Zig.”
“Get outa here, Mel. You might get hurt.”
I turned and opened up as three figures rushed through the
doorway.
Chapter 2 –
I pulled two more MKs off Mel’s shelves and set them on the counter. I racked one and felt the chamber load. Yeah, like I thought. One key works them all. Best in a battlefield where a man may need anybody’s weapon he can grab. Long as you got the key, that is.
On a sales rack behind the counter I found the standard mil surplus canvas duffle bags. I slid the two MKs I had into and then a couple more off the shelf. I looked down at Mel. Lying there in a pool of his own blood. He wouldn’t need them anymore. Least it wasn’t me that did him.
Prowling a bit, I found a couple of boxes of the caseless ammo for the MKs. Yeah, I’ll need these. An some of the shotgun shells, too. Tossing them into the bag, I thought, I hope Cherry Baby hasn’t left already. Time to go though. That racket is sure to bring some skads, even here eventually. Here in this part of the City, they only came in groups, and usually with lots of back up.
I hope none of those flash-skads are on the way. I scattered a few more proximity mines around and armed them go all go together as I left. Flash-skads or not, I oughta get one of ‘em if they trigger any one of the detonators.
I went out the door, stepping over the corpses of a half dozen of Shank’s gang. Too bad Shank lit out when it was clear I wasn’t going down. Looking carefully each way first, I slipped out of the rain soaked alley and walked quickly to the crowded street. There I turned towards the nearest entrance to Downtown and walked a bit slower. Few in this throng had anywhere to go in a hurry. Most were unemployed and killing time between their allotted feed-times. This was the poor part of the City, down here on the ground. There were no vehicles on the streets these days. Not since the collapse. Every one of the poor down here on the ground walked and carried bags like me. My bag of hardware appeared no different than the hundreds of other bags on shoulders of others all around me.
~
I looked up at the skyscrapers on all sides. All of them had reflective surfaces from about five floors on up. Up there the Have’s lived. Middle class in the middle floors, and the Rich above that. Of course, the Real-Rich each owned the top few floors of their own skyscraper. The Poor, we all lived on the ground floors, the first 5 or so, or we lived in DownTown. Downtown was 18 floors and a mile square at least, all underground. Social climbers in my caste maybe could make it to the 8th or even 10th floors if they were lucky, worked hard, and held their tongues right. I didn’t plan on having to get lucky, work hard, or do more with my tongue than put in Cherry Baby’s mouth.
Behind me, the detonation of my charges brought me out of my musing. I smiled, seems like I might of got a skad, or maybe two. Hope I nicked a Flash-skad. They were hard to get. Joey said they moved in pseudo-time, whatever that was, and they were hella-fast. Cherry believed him. Me? I don’t care what they move in. An’ I’m fast too when my mods kick in. Still it’d be nice to know if I got one though.
Ahead my entrance to Downtown gaped. The street just went straight down through the opening. The huge gate loomed a good fifty feet high and twice as wide. There were a dozen gates into Downtown. As I neared it, I saw the skads standing on each side watching the milling throngs going in or coming out. This was unusual, they usually left the entrances to Downtown alone. There were three squad vans and at least a dozen officers standing around. Hopefully no flash-skads. It’s possible I may have stirred up a hornet’s nest back there. Maybe it was the MK8s? Possibly. But I didn’t think so. Sumpthin’ else must be brewin’.
Yeah. Sumpthin’ was brewin’ all right.
I wasn’t ready when the portal opened. They aren’t supposed to open in public areas. But this was the start of the Portal Wars. I didn’t know nuthin’ about it back then. One minute I was on the street worried about the skads, and the next, a line of blue neon fire flickered past me, a sound like thunder exploded around me, and I was on Jenson’s Hold thirty-eight point four light years from Earth. And boy was I pissed.
I was so pissed, half my mods were on and ready. But I was out on the Savannah now, south end of the big continent. And there wasn’t no one in a hundred klicks of me, except the natives. I couldn’t tell if they were going to attack me or worship me.
~
To be continued…
Barnard Cullen, author 