Keycon

SYNERGY

Raki stood on the docking bay catwalk and watched as the shuttle moved into place. When the sensors set into the metal plate on the deck lit purple, he activated the locking mechanism.
Slipstream cargo carriers usually transported a full complement of mixed shuttles and smaller craft for every voyage, but the owners of this shuttle had insisted on booking the entire ship for just themselves and their three escorts—sleek Vipe fighters with laser mounts bristling from the elongated double prongs on both front and rear. Surely an expensive venture. What would require that kind of security?
Raki wasn’t paid for his curiosity, although he suffered from it regularly. He leaned on the railing to peruse the shuttle. Paranoia made him scan his hands as he did so—Kusk hands, three fingers and a thumb, thick and covered with gray, leathery skin. He noticed a small tuft of gold fur and concentrated until it dropped away to the metal floor far beneath.

GENESIS 7.0

Rickard Bacon peered into the darkened room and stared around until he clapped eyes on a familiar figure. Face illuminated by the pale blue glow of a phone, and slouched over a table in the corner, Assistant Prof Albert Newtly clutched a tall glass of his usual.

“I’ll have what he’s drinking,” Rickard called across to the bearded bartender. There was no one else in the university pub. He shrugged off his woolen coat and collapsed into the seat opposite Albert. “Quiet in here tonight.”

Albert didn’t look up. “Exams. They’re closing early.”

Rickard leaned back in his chair. “That old bum is still squatting outside on a ratty blanket beside the entrance. I thought campus security was going to move him.”

“The one with the crow on her shoulder? I think they’re afraid of her pet. Don’t worry, she’s harmless.”

“He probably has fleas. Well, don’t keep me in suspense. How was your week spent with the SETI institute?”

“The search for extra-terrestrial intelligence is as bogged down as ever. Lots of unintelligible bleeps and burps from the depths of the great cold unknown but nothing I’d wager a ham sandwich on. I think it’s a hopeless quest.”

PLIGHT OF THE SHEWMUZ

Sweat pouring down my neck, I darted along the path. My heartrate increased with every ping of snicksnok rebounding off the boulders lining my way. My pursuers were fast, but I was faster. Their stumpy legs were no match for my long springy limbs. Coughing in disgust—fresh gertyd crap—clung to my right loafer. Another step gave me a complete set of shit covered shoes. What did I do to deserve this misfortune? But wait . . . gertyds are nearby. Them and my chasers were sworn enemies. I, on the other hand, had a favour due.

With a bellow, I summoned the wrinkly creatures. They ran toward me with glee in their strides. However, they fast realised the prize lay hot on my ass. The beasts zinged past, but I kept running until the shrieks of a massacre pierced my soul. Silence. That didn’t take long. “Thank you, my friends.” —I continued down the path—“now your debt is paid.” I knew better than to fully trust them. Maybe if their ugliness stopped at their furrowed hides, they wouldn’t be such outcasts. But their spirits were filled with a blackness disguised by their playfulness. Never turn your back on a gertyd.

THE GOD IN THE WESTERN SKY

Weneth Elran had never been inside Master Wizard Arthar Ventori’s laboratory at the top of his tower. Few upper members of the Magical Council of Acresh had been afforded the honour of such an invitation, and for a lower mage such as Weneth, it was unheard of. And yet, here he was, marvelling at the room, filled with books, alchemical experiments, and odd contraptions, many in varying states of disassembly, the gears and wires spread over entire tables.

“Give me a moment to locate the tome we discussed,” Arthar said. “I just had my hand on it a few days past, shouldn’t be far.”

“Of course,” Weneth murmured. “No rush.” As a student of alchemy, the master wizard’s set-up was familiar to him, though he longed to discuss the experiments with the older mage. The mechanical wonders were far more interesting to observe. He wandered from one to the next, studying their intricate parts. This one was a bird, suspended above the table by some spell, its wings wrought of delicate bone and cloth, its body copper and gears. Carefully, he touched one wing, lifting it slightly. To his delight the other wing rose and fell, the perfect mirror of its partner.

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