He came in every day for almost a week, at ten to four in the afternoon, stood in line for a coffee—medium, hazelnut syrup, almond milk—then stayed just long enough to take a sip or two. Gave his name as Sam. Smiled at me each visit.
I melted the first time
Before his world flip-flopped, Lachlan Lendur was having a pretty good day.
He delivered a cacophonous shuttle-load of House Azure design assistants and their paraphernalia to the Jade Fashion Expo. He flew toward home in blissful quiet along Azure’s sunny coastline. He watched cat vids. Then the shuttle ruined his morning by rolling belly-up.
I shielded my glasses from the drizzle and speed-walked down the street. Neon lights reflected on the slick concrete. Swirls of pink, green, and blue shuddered as my boots splashed through the puddles. I slipped my hand into my pocket and fingered my wallet.
The wealthy could afford to “misplace” money for a
Aether’s Edge floated demurely across the sky, but inside the dirigible manor’s private study, Kytt Windthorn’s language was anything but ladylike.
“Thomas Edison’s trousers!” Kytt swiped a curl out of her face and pressed her ear to the cold metal door of an Iron Guardian X99. They were finicky under the best circumstances
Colors flickered along the ad wall beside me as a female voice extolled the benefits of a visit to the Olympus Mons spa. You can’t be talking to me.
“Kytt Windthorn!” The AI must have sensed my disinterest, swapping its sultry tone for a knife-edge. “Don’t you want to go to Mars?”
“So everybody was panicking and stuff,” Joe Enza said, his paunchy midsection protruding from under the unit. “Finally I asked them, ‘Did any of you bother to check the breaker box?’ Lo and behold, the breaker was flipped. I wrote the bill, but I made sure to hit them for another twenty bucks just
Read it now
Doc Sklodowski’s forehead furrowed as he examined me in Martian General Hospital’s clinic. “I’ve never seen anything like this on a scalp—or anywhere outside of a photo. Are those bruises what they look like, Mr. Enza? They can’t be.”
I winced as my head throbbed. “Oh, yes they can. Let me tell you
Joe sat near the edge of the roof, bathed in the cream-colored glow of Jupiter’s broad disc. “Why is it always some damn birds?” They loved building nests in the Slip Time Cooler housings, and he could just see a feather poking out. These dumb old models. Why didn’t they put grates over
Read it now
Katherine Smyth needed a miracle.
The anti-matter induction chamber was history. Instead of a silvery sphere nestled in the heart of the Fortunato’s engine, a metal flower blossomed, as if opening toward weak sunlight. Her toolkit slipped from numb fingers, thudding onto the deck. Without the chamber, the Fortunato had no engines.
“Lendur!”
Captain Donahue, the drill sergeant grandma commanding House Azure’s shuttle fleet, blew into the pilots’ ready room like a southern hurricane.
Lachlan set down his dripping mug and gave her a jaunty salute, left hand behind his back to hide the coffee-stained sleeve. He hated that his boss’s voice made him jump like
“I hired a mechanic, not a food service worker. What’s with the hairnet?” Greg Hahn sniffed, as if I were trying to smuggle improperly preserved twentieth century school lunches from my shuttle onto his shiny space station and he smelled something foul.
Don’t let his attitude bother you, Joe. You can handle another Z Job.
“Yo, Enzo! Is it done yet?” The beleaguered customer yelled down through the grate. The man’s week-old musk permeated every inch of his grimy home—even saturating into the floorboards.
“It’s Enza,” Joe Enza whispered under his breath.
Everyone always confuses it. Joe screwed the cap back on the tritium diffuser as he squatted
Recent Comments