Archive for the ‘Luc Reid’ Category
Situational
Monday, January 5th, 2009
“You left your dishes on top of the sonic again, dear heart,” Miranda called from the kitchen. The phrase “dear heart” had started as a little joke between them, but after a few months it had turned into a real expression of love, and now … Buckley wasn’t sure. She always used a little extra emphasis, now. Was that playful? A tiny bit sarcastic?
“Sorry,” he answered, distracted, as she emerged from the kitchen holding the offending plate and cup. His gaze was drawn irresistably back to the message displayed on the entcenter. She read him immediately.
“You got it,” she whispered, gripping the dishes.
He nodded, re-reading the screen. … accepted for the position of Junior Situational Flexcoder on the ninth Alpha Centauri mission. The 9.7-year mission (experiential time) will be paid on the basis of the 31 earth years that pass …
Buckley looked back at Mir, seeing the tension in her, the whiteness of her face, the wideness of her pale blue eyes, the rigidity of her fingers clamped down on the china. She stared at him fixedly, saying nothing. Somewhere in the room, a fly buzzed.
He brushed toast crumbs off the table remote and hesitated for a fraction of a moment while he pushed his dream job out of his mind. Buckley pressed “I decline” with his forefinger, making sure the table had a chance to verify his print. Before he lifted his finger again, he knew, the automated hiring system would have offered the job to someone else. He looked up at Mir with a weak smile.
She stared at him with disbelief and disgust. “You idiot,” she said, and stomped out of the room.
* * *
…
Buckley looked back at Mir, seeing the tension in her, the whiteness of her face, the wideness of her pale blue eyes, the rigidity of her fingers clamped down on the china. She stared at him fixedly, but then a fly buzzed past her face and she brushed it away with the irritated expression he knew intimately well.
He brushed toast crumbs off the table remote and hesitated for a fraction of a moment while he banished a life he would now never have. Buckley pressed “I accept” with his forefinger, making sure the table had a chance to verify his print and legally obligate him. He meant to apologize, but he could only look up at her miserably.
Mir stared at him with disbelief and disgust. “You asshole,” she said, and stomped out of the room.
We Knew Your Ma, But That Was In the Old Days
Monday, December 22nd, 2008
We knew your Ma, but that was in the old days. These days we couldn’t help you, no idea where she goes. She rose up past us, your Ma–least if you ask her, she did. Saved up to get rejuvenated when she was ninety or so, real class job: permanent tan, Tyler lips, Barbie platinum autogrow, the works. Me an’ Paolo’d been making do with worn-out whores for some time, so we figured for old time’s sake she might–but you don’t want to hear that, do ya? It’s yer Ma. Never mind. But she had a fine quality ass on that rejuve job, I’ll tell you that. Didn’t mind showing it, either.
What, not even stuff like that? You’re too easy to squick, I tell ya. Not like yer Ma.
Anyway, she got hired out a lot more after that rejuve: young-looking, classy, the kind of thing that makes us veteran shooters look shabby and cheap. We fell on hard times, me and Paolo, while she was pulling down the big jobs. You’d think she’d cut us in– subcontract, like, some of the time–but not yer Ma. No, she took one of those hovering apartments just outside the city limits, moved around all the time, started pretending like she didn’t know us, what gave her her start. One day her name came up, though, some guy whose boss she’d done for, and me an’ Paolo got the contract.
We went out there to the hovering apartments and tried to track her down, but by the time we found her spot, she’d already gotten wind of us. Did for Paolo with a grenade pellet to the throat, took two of my left legs off with a booby trap, so’s now I can barely hobble around. She oughta killed me, but she said “You shoulda stayed on the planet you came from” and just walked away. Left the apartment, all her stuff. Never seen her since.
Another thou note? That’s awfully generous of you. Now that you mention it, all of sudden a little more does come back to me. See, she had this tatooist she liked, always went to the same guy, and she was kind of a collector, your Ma. I’d bet you kilos to crap he knows where she is–she’s probably been in for new art.
No, none of my business what you want her for. ‘Cept I already heard rumor of it, so I guess I know even if it’s not any of my business.
Shoot her once for me too, will ya?