Patricia Wilson
Stories
10
Chapters
3,347
Words
163.4 K
Comments
0
Reading
13 h, 37 m
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The prophet dressed in loose robes. They wore trousers like a man but kept their head covered by a long shawl like a woman. They seemed to refer to themselves as both man and woman, or neither, which made their grammar hellishly confusing to Truth. Action followed word, for they walked through the places of both men and women alike and did as they pleased there. This would usually see someone stoned to death, but the prophet just… fit in wherever they were. They were never alien. After listening to them…-
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Nobu and Rezepi tossed smoke talismans into the lobby. Usually they made a smoke screen. However, when fighting people who were invisible or had good cammo? The dust stuck. More than a dozen shadowy outlines appeared, practically begging Truth, Boloud and Keller to shoot them. Being respectful, caring, Starbrite magi, they were only too happy to help. The needlers slapped the life clean out of the rebels. With Shockwave equipped, even a sloppy hit to the arm could transform it into abstract art. The…
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The Kofi job wanted a five person detail, so a five person detail they would have. Truth tapped Privates Rezepi, Keller, Boloud and Nobu. Not because they were Prager’s gift to soldiering, but because they could be cool and none of them were notable horndogs. These, to Truth’s way of thinking, were crucial qualifications for a security detail for a scry special starring some very attractive talent in a very tense situation. Nobu, in particular, had the ability to stand almost perfectly still in a…
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Another day, another sensation of phantom screaming. Maybe it was the air vents? He should take a look, no need to bother the building manager. The little “bonus” jobs didn’t show on the System. They seemed to glide alongside the assigned missions, neither subtracting from them nor adding to them. You just got the cheery little *DING* and the Still, he was making steady progress to Level 2. The Nine Worm Path seethed through his muscles, winding around arteries and slinking along tendons. Truth…
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Truth woke, thinking he heard someone screaming. But there was nothing, the apartment was quiet and still. He must have been dreaming. Though he never seemed to remember his dreams. Oh well. It was five in the morning. Good time to be up. He took a quick shower, dressed in his uniform, and started laying out breakfast. The sibs would be up soon, and he liked to have everything ready to go. No more leftover rice, or garbage sugar things from the convenience store. No more giving Vig the last slice of bread…
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“Range is clear! Magus, are you ready? Go!” The bell rang and Truth’s hand blurred. The flame lance fetish had shit range and penetration, so he took out the targets closest to him with shots to the face. The spell mannequins shrieked and seemed to melt, running backwards and knocking other mannequins out of cover. “Change!” He dropped the flame lance fetish and caught the bolter thrown from behind him. Bolter was a little more tricky, as you needed to have better aim. On the other hand, the…
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The Treasure Pavilion tab exploded into a series of more tabs, sub tabs, pictures in tabs, and a bewildering swarm of lists. “What am I looking at?” Truth muttered. “Basically, a shopping mall. It works like this- everyone who is connected to the System has access to the Treasure Pavilion. HOWEVER. Not everyone has Truth did, and the clutter suddenly simplified. Five needler talismans floated in front of him, with their name, a short description, technical specifications and a price…
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Had the System… he thought it said… No, the text was hanging in front of Truth’s eyes. He must have imagined it. And who cares! Time to celebrate with the sibs! At long last. At long The line for the exit was orderly and moved fairly quickly. There was one last thing to collect on the way out. As the new Starbrite Employees left the field, handsome young men and women attached a pin to their lapel. A single, brilliant, seven pointed star glimmered brightly against a royal blue background. Truth…
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Truth was floating as he made his way back to the apartment. Ninety three thousand credits a year. He still didn’t have a very good feel for what that meant, but… he was able to afford the subsidized Class C housing for the sibs on his National Service salary. Odds were good that the monthly cost in credits for the sibs’ food, housing, education, healthcare, clothes, all of it, was about to become a nothing expense. Incredible, incredible, incredible. All glory to Starbrite! All hail Starbrite! He…
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Truth felt poleaxed. Well, he didn’t know what a poleaxe was. He felt shocked. Betrayed. Unable to think. All those thousands of hours of studying. Of training. The months and years invested in his dream of Talisman Maintenance, and she just wanted to toss it away for what? A glorified night watchman? Maybe a mall cop in some high end store where he could save for a lifetime and never have enough to buy a single thing?! “You are thinking I want to make you a mall cop, right?” “You don’t?”…
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