With this post, I'm starting another fiction serial, this time something I was working on before the "original" Evil Possum adventure. It all starts ight from my last fiction post, and it features a location I covered in the retro future architecture post (no longer quite a match for my auto shape sketch). Without further ado, here is the return of the Evil Possum...
We approach the city again, this time from the south. Again we see the comparatively sprawling development of the lower city. But nearer at hand is something almost too big to be taken in. Look closely, and you will make out a faceted crystalline shape sheathed in silver-grey glass, this time with twelve sides and a subsidiary buttress on every other face. By the standards of the city it is compact, only 16 meters on each side of the main spire and just over 100 meters wide on its east-west span. But its top rises 9/10ths of a mile high, a sixth again over any other building in the city, with a count of 330 stories plus a 90 meter spire already dubbed the Mace.
Now, look to the buttresses, which taper and fall away just a little short of halfway to the top. They are subdivided between compact luxury apartments and access to paired glass elevators. At the east and west ends, the elevator shapes extend fully beyond the building for a panoramic view of the city. Now watch as two women emerge from the capsule-like elevator. The bank is very narrow, only 4 meters wide, with a single panel between the doors. Under that is a small cover with a lock, just large enough for someone to peer inside. One of the women looks over her shoulder long enough to realize the cover is open. She pauses, just long enough to push it shut.
As the laughter faded,
the cover swung open again, with enough force to rebound off the frame of the
elevator door. From out of the dark shone a single eye, the size of a dime and
brighter still. A little light came from the machinery inside, enough to reveal
the silhouette of a bristling mane. A low, rumbling growl sounded, and then the
only recorded specimen of the marsupial called Archididelphis invicta leaped
out.
* * *
Daisy sat side by side with Wes as they worked. They talked to each other, occasionally helping on a minor point. It all further confirmed Daisy’s belief that Wes had been doing as much work as she and Janxi (now moved on to another assignment) could do together, and strengthened her further suspicion that he could do far more if he didn’t have to explain himself to anyone else. “Remember, we have to be at the party by 6,” she said.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I need to finish the special project for Power And Utilities.”
“I thought you were
done.”
“I have the data
compiled, but I haven’t finished the analysis, and that’s the most difficult
part.”
“I keep telling you,
that’s because you’re bad at explaining things.
Here, let me look.”
She casually reached
over, which would have made Wes tense. She clasped his hand, and he relaxed
enough to let her slide into his work station. “Huh,” she said. “That’s weird.”
“I know.”
She took a closer look. She had long since figured out that this was where he always missed something. “So, here’s what I don’t get,” she said. “Why are you the one having to do this? You’re great, obviously, but shouldn’t there be automated protocols to pick up on this stuff?”
“Yeah, but… damn.” Daisy slid aside as he took back control. “They’re designed to flag anomalies when they occur more than once in the same area. Anything else is assumed to be isolated or entirely random.”
“And if it’s not random?”
“It’s on purpose.” Wes
typed quickly. “There, how does that look?”
“It’s good,” Daisy said. As she spoke, she made a couple minor changes. “I think you’ll be fine sending this in as it is. Now… I’m signing out early. One of us should…”
“Sure,” Wes said. “I’ll catch up.” Daisy squeezed his hand, then hurried away.
* * *
The marsupial was heavily
scarred and heavily armed. He was also 49 cm tall. He advanced in confident
strides, with one booted leg trailing the other, wielding a double-barreled
slug gun the size of a target pistol in his only hand. He wore an alligator
leather coat and a snakeskin vest, with several patched-over holes that had
been shot in the original owners. He also bore a revolver at his hip, a
broomhandle pistol under his vest, a submachine gun slung across his back, and
plenty more surprises in less obvious places. His slicked-back mane bristled as
he bent to examine the object at his feet. It was a standard extermination
drone, the size and shape of a large spider, dismembered and smashed almost
beyond recognition, let alone repair. He used a three-fingered mechanical claw
to pick up an exposed tank of pesticide, already empty. From the darkness,
there was a clicking of feet and a chitter of mouthparts, hopelessly rebounded
and distorted. His lips curled in something close to a smile as he raised the
gun and fired.
* * *
The briefing room could have been one of a thousand rooms in a thousand departments on a thousand worlds. The array of recruits, admittedly, was more unusual. About half of the two dozen were human, or close enough to pass as one. About half of the remainder were humanoid or at least mammalian, including three nearly hairless suinomorphs and one huge, hairy, almost shapeless Woolie. The rest were more exotic organisms, such as a feathered sauravian and a creature in a tracked water tank that looked like (and in fact was) a 2 meter sea cucumber. Percy surveyed them all from a podium at the front of the room. His visor focused briefly on one, an evidently human woman with blue-gray hair.
“Greetings, and congratulations for all your hard work at the academy,” he said. He glanced at the Woolie, whose most discernible feature was a pair of huge red eyes, and the boxy-headed sauravian, barely bigger than a turkey. “You have all earned a place in the most elite and most cosmopolitan police force ever assembled- the Security and Self-Defense Force of the Arcostate of Emerald City.”
He continued to survey the group. “Now, I could tell you how many new immigrants the city is taking in. I could talk about all the new development in the South Arc, where most of you are probably going to be assigned. I could talk about how we need new officers to handle the load. But all I really have to say is this. This isn’t the Wild West, and it isn’t a cops and robbers shoot ‘em up. You aren’t here to clean up the town, you’re here to help people. They won’t all look like you, and they won’t all be easy to like. They’re still people, and it’s your duty to help them. So, does anyone have any questions?”
A human rookie raised a
hand. “Do we get a gun?” he asked.
Percy smiled. “Well,
let’s just think this through… Why would a cop really need a gun?”
* * *
The marsupial fired both
barrels of his weapon as he emerged from a slender door where a buttress met
the main spire. Further down, there would have been fully functional balconies,
but the buttress would have blocked any entry to the triangular space he
emerged from. Here, there was only a walkway designed for occasional use by
maintenance staff, and also to absorb some part of the winds that buffeted the
tower. Access was correspondingly restricted, in no small part because the cables
and halfhearted fiberglass barriers were quite inadequate to stop a determined
attempt to climb over them. One of his slugs spiderwebbed a pane, while the
other ricocheted into space. He tracked as he reloaded, just in time to see a
segmented tail disappear out of sight.
Directly ahead was an
elevator shaft, one of a pair that ran up either side of the buttress. He
listened, but there was little to hear but the wind, and a steady thrum from
the carefully tuned wires and struts that was more felt than heard. He stared
upward as a double-decked capsule ascended. The glass shaft was enclosed, but
not wholly sealed. His intact ear shifted before his gaze did, toward a shape
that was just visible in the shadow of a support beam. He fired both barrels
and then dived to the left. There was time for barely a glimpse of a meter of
snapping pincers, skittering legs and lashing tail, already yawing to the right
like a car without a driver. There was an audible crunch as the thing hit the
already damaged glass. The next moment, the pane was tumbling down like a
drifting leaf, warped and fractured but not broken, yet.
As he reentered the
machine room he had emerged from, the marsupial pressed a call button with the
butt of his main armament. “Confirmed one eurypteroid arthropod, at least 120
centimeters in length, presumed male based on size, now destroyed,” he said in
a nasal but commanding voice. “The condition of its exoskeleton indicates a
recent molt. I infer a colony of 10 to 15 specimens, between 2nd
molt and sexual maturity, most likely contained within the arcology. Full
evacuation and fumigation is advised if I fail to report within 6 hours.”
He released the button.
His lip curled, and he pressed it again. “Be further advised, send crews to the
southwest sector. There will be witnesses… and cleanup.”
* * *
“Here’s the bottom line,”
Percy said. He smiled tolerantly and held up a .44 magnum with a long barrel
tied in a knot. “Your standard issue body armor will stop any projectile under
18,000 joules,” he said. “That’s assuming normal human size and capabilities,
of course. If a more immediate threat arises, a special team will be sent to
your position, along with additional weapons and gear for those at the scene.”
He did not add that the rookie would certainly be pulled back as far as possible.
“But they could aim for
the face,” the unhappy rookie said.
“And why would that be your problem?” Percy said. “If they can
see your face, you can see theirs, can’t you? So what kind of cop are you if
you can’t tell an honest citizen from a rrotkori
itching to pull a gun? That’s what
real police work is, and if you can’t hack it, all the guns in the world won’t
help you.”
The nervous rookie raised
his hand again. “Do you have a gun?”
Percy smiled. “Why would
I?” he said. “I’ve never needed one.”
With that, the group clearly decided it was time to
disperse. “There’s an open house at the Aster Plaza precinct, feel free to drop
in. Be sure to stop at Personnel for your partner assignments.” The recruits
shuffled out, except for the rodent creature with gray-brown fur. Percy frowned
at the recruit. He, in turn, looked even more flustered.
“Ah, Officer… O’Leary,” Percy said. He did not look at
the roster on the podium, but anyone
able to see behind his visor would have seen him searching a database of names
and photos. “I said, you need to go to the Personnel Office to find out who
your partner is. Do you need help finding the way?”
“Ah, no, I was already there,” Nickolas O’Leary said.
“You’re my partner.”
“Aww… I see,” Percy said. “Well… Can you come with me
downtown?”
* * *
The reception was in an aquatic recreation area at the
center of the 148th to 150th floors. Daisy met their guests and other
well-wishers on a balcony overlooking the pool. A number of the guests were
already in the pool, including an echidna with two puggles. She beamed as
Westley arrived. “Well, here’s our guest of honor,” she said, taking his hand.
He looked uncomfortable, but happy enough to be with her. “This is Westlake
Powell, officially my domestic partner.”
They sat down at the table, and continued to meet the
guests. Here and there, gifts were left, always small. “You know,” Daisy said
to Wes, “down in the Old Neighborhoods, they still have weddings, then the
reception.”
A while later, Wes said, “You look nervous. Anxious,
anyway.”
Daisy frowned, then nodded. “I thought he’d come,” she
said, then quickly amended, “I’m sure he’ll make it.”
In fact, she didn’t see him until he was beside her.
“How you doing, kid?” Percy said. The next moment, Daisy’s arms were around his
neck.
No comments:
Post a Comment