Daughter Dear

"It is uncomfortable being dead for long periods. There is a whole lot of inactivity involved in it. Folk don't usually call for it but when they do they usually end up getting it.

On the outskirts of the world, where I rest, a group gathered. There is snow everywhere. Snow and relics. The seat of the emperor of the world. The group chanted it religiously. They inched their way through the white blanket towards an abandoned factory. Man beaten by Nature.

The factory grounds are covered by snow and there is a fine line of barbed wire visible over the snow. The group spread out around the factory in a circle. Their chanting reaches with a dull fervour.

One of the group, a woman, broke from the circle and she moved towards the factory. There is a "Trespassers Not Allowed" board. The woman jumped over it. She entered. The others followed and soon the chanting entered the factory, my home. I was bloody well asleep.

It is hard being a paladin, y'know. Folk praying all the time for this and that. Folk scrabbling all over each other trying to please your God. Folk getting angry or happy at you when they should be doing their work. It ain't right.

Well, so there I am sleeping and I feel this aetheric voice trying to wake me. I resist as I am having a good dream but suddenly the din fills my dream too. It angers me. I mutter in my dream and soon I am muttering in my sleep. I don't even listen to what they are singing. Oh yes, they are singing now. I am mad by now. And I am awake.

When I went to sleep here, I went to sleep with a sword. One of those Japanese swords. I grab it and I smash out of the glass panel. The group stops singing. They scatter and they get down on their knees. The woman, their prophet, smiles at me. I put the sword through her. The group screams as one and flees.

So, I figure, now that I am awake. Might as well make the most of it. Which is why I am here right now. Fix me another drink, bartender."

The woman has a sword slung across her back and she has the look of the warrior. She is telling this to a drunk in a bar in the Western District. She is here for she is a Paladin of the Stone. She was supposed to protect it from however wanted it. For whatever reasons. Good or bad, no human should ever have it. Now someone wanted it and she was back looking for whoever wanted it.

The drunk looked at her and gave her a crooked grin. He then proceeded to slur his words as drunks are known to do, "That's a fine yarn, sister and I believe you. You look like the type that would put a sword through a person. Got a name?"

She did not have a name. She might have had one in the olden ages but she did not remember. The group knew her as the Daughter of the Emperor of the World. The group was chanting something else though. Might be it is my name, she thought. Might be it is not.

"They just called me Daughter Dear."

The Disappearing Man

Tall Jim got off the tram near the Bananas. The Bananas was the finest hotel this side of the district divide. Tall Jim had a room there and he was in a hurry to get in. Out of sight.

He had a case with him and was dressed as shady men are wont to dress. He stopped to check if he had been tailed. He walked into the lobby, smiled at the manager and went on up to his room.

He stuck his key in the lock and jarred the door open. He threw his case in a chair and walked to the lamp to switch on the lights.

"Don't turn on the light."

Tall Jim froze. His heart seemed to gallop out of his being and his throat went dry like Old Jim's laugh.

"I don't have any money. I am just a courier." Tall Jim felt like he was being held in a vise. A Telepathic hold.

"I know that. Don't move. I have a gun that likes being shot."

"What do you want, Bung?" asked Tall Jim, even though he knew what the answer was.

"Oh so you know me. Mind-reader Bung, they call me. You know. You know exactly what I want and I know that you know. I always wanted to say that."

"They also call you Half-dick Bung. But you know that too already." Tall Jim felt the vise tighten.

"Oh yes. I don't like that. You know what else I don't like? Talking to strange men. Give me the case, so I can go."

"Well, you are free to take it."

"Please don't take me for a fool, Tall Jim. I know the case is coded to your touch. Blasted family of yours. Inbred cloned shits everywhere, Jims. If I touch it, it won't serve my purpose. I need the case. The technology inside it. The one you have been ferrying for Professor Corasso."

Tall Jim sighed. Must it always come to this, he thought. Sometimes he hated being a Jim.
He moved slowly to his case. He picked up the case and opened it slowly.

Bung leapt to his feet shouting something in Korean but he was too slow.
Tall Jim had touched the gossamer filament inside the case and now the case had swallowed him. And he was gone. So was the case.

"Come now, Tall Jim. You can't hide forever. I know that. You know that. You got to resurface. For air. And when you do, my gun will be ready, believe you me."

Tall Jim could not hear Bung. Tall Jim could not hear anyone. Tall Jim had disappeared.

But, the one they called Half-dick was right. The filament, for lack of a better word, could swallow things but it had to show them too. And show it did. Tall Jim popped right out of the lamp he had been trying to reach for. Bung was caught unaware as the lamp smashed into his face. Tall Jim disappeared again and reappeared this time behind White. A punch to the small of his back and White was gasping for air.

Bung stumbled to the window. He was shouting again, this time in English.
"The technology is not stable. Stop before you do yourself harm."

"Shutup telepath," a voice sneered.

Bung shot in the direction but hit air. No Tall Jim in sight. Another popping noise but this time Bung was ready. He hurled a throwing knife from the inside of his sleeve and struck Tall Jim's hand.

A disembodied howl filled the room. A howl of pain and rage.

"You shall pay, dick. You shall pay with fire."

Bung ran and again he was too late. An explosion rocked the floor. The fire birthed another and soon The Bananas were as yellow as their namesake.

Tall Jim was nowhere to be seen. Bung had however been hurled out the window by the explosion. He was found impaled upon a lampost.

The war was begun.

Two Murders, One Stone

It is the first morning of a new year and a federation guard stands infront of the bank. The bank wall features prominent graffiti and lurid posters.

He is new here. He is married and he is new and he is thinking about his lovely wife and dreaming about their house.
He is distracted.

An old woman dodders into the panel. She is non-descript except for a red scarf that is flimsy protection against the perennial winter. She carries a cane and a bag. That peculiar old people scent precedes her.

The guard sees her and thinks of his wife's frail little granny and rushes to help him.

As he approaches her, the old woman reacts with surprising agility. She draws a handgun from her bag.
The guard is shot through the right eye.

He falls down dead.

---

At the same time, inside the bank.

"A brain is little worth without tongue." That is what Blessing Tom's grandfather used to say.

Blessing Tom loved his grandfather and he listens to his grandfather. Which is why, he ripped out the tongue of the one guard inside. Blessing Tom is not a violent man as such but he just loves blood.

So, what is going on inside is this. The West Island Hawaiians are robbing the bank. They are inside and they have no idea that Mama Redcap and her crew are outside. The Hawaiians want money but Mama Redcap wants something else.

The key to the stone. The only real power left in this boulevard of corruption.

The Hawaiians grab the money and Blessing Tom shoots the moaning guard and they all step out. Mama Redcap smiles at them and all the Boris-es open fire. With tranq darts.

The Hawaiians will most probably wake up in one of the Western Island's rust bucket workshops that are used by the Redcap crew for torture and such. If the captured don't die by torture, they die by tetanus. Plus, the rent is low.

Two rent-a-cops dead for a stone. For some that is a bloodbath.
For Mama Redcap, it is Monday, January the First.

Department of Department of Prognostication and Prestidigitation

Everytime, I get off the 123 Elephant, I get that feeling. Like stepping off a bus in a foreign country. You are new and you have nothing on you but paper money and directions written in a code that you don't know how to decrypt. You know? That is how I feel, everytime, I get off that tramline. And this time, oh boy, I was going to the Bureau. Someone there took pity on me and finally agreed to see me.

I mean, Harvey wasn't the sort to run off. He was loving and gentle and kind and loving. And we just got married, you know? What could make him disappear like that? I know, I know, what you are thinking. Men have needed less reasons to disappear. But, I know my Harvey. I loved him and he loved me. Naive, I know.

So, I go up to the entrance of that big peach coloured building and there is no one at the door. And I looked up. Just rows after rows of windows and obviously all of them, full of activity. But, you know what? No sound. Not a single click or clack. Just an entity with a thousand box-shaped eyes that didn't care who it swallowed next as long as the Ship Tax papers were filed correctly. God, I hate those ships.

So, I went in and there was noise. It just didn't get out the door. Now, I am standing there on the red carpet, all alone and shivering. I don't know why I was shivering but I was shivering. One of those squirrels, you know.. 'the peons', comes up to me and tugs at my dress. I did not actually know they did that. Did you? It was so weird. And then I was doing things that I did not know I was doing. I let the squirrel lead me. I followed it and I did not walk long. We came to a corridor. You know, the sort that leads nowhere? That sort. Dark and musty and staticky. The hair on my arms stood right up. The squirrel disappeared into one of the doors and I followed it and I emerged into a room. A reception room. A blue leather sofa and a water jet in the corner. Nothing else. There was a curtain at the far end and the squirrel was nowhere to be seen, so, I went towards it. I could feel a certain something. I do not know how to describe it but I knew there was something behind that door that was going to help me.

It was a machine. A fortune telling machine. You know, the kind that they have at gypsy fairs? No, you don't? Well, there were these fairs back in my hometown and it was that sort of a machine and it was kinda creepy being alone in a room with it. The squirrel wasn't there. But, I knew what I must do. Put a coin.

That is what I did. Nothing happened. So, I laughed and cried and then did both. I don't know what I had expected. So, I started to leave and I thought let me atleast get a drink of water. And as I finished drinking my drink of water, there was a whirring and a clicking sound and the machine whirred and clicked and it clanged and finally stopped making all that noise with a pop. I knew that sound and so I rushed to it.

Sure enough, there was a card. A 6x6 inch card with a prognostication. It said,

"When you leave here, you will leave happy. You will find yourself a new dress and you will treat yourself to a nice lunch. You will be happy. You will be happier when Harvey returns in 15 days.

Avoid narrow alleys and sunshine and remember that our greatest glory is not in never falling down but in never letting the neighbours know about it.

This is not a fortune cookie. I wish I could predict the future. Now sod off."

Then, I turned and I left and I could not not be happy. I knew Harvey would be back and everything would be fine.

[Do you have the card, ma'am?]

No. The squirrel took it.

[You see now, why it is so hard to believe you, ma'am?]

Oh, you silly, never you mind! You'll see in 15 days.

---

This is an excerpt of a call logged by the Greater Central Police Station operator. The caller is a Angela Owens, wife of Harvey Owens. She reported him missing last Monday. The operator did not know this. Filed.