quality.
I found a note on the safe, though, in Keaton’s immaculate handwriting: “Took
you long enough, Skag. Touch the safe and you die.”
I almost peed on the floor.
Beyond the drafting table I found a television, and next
to the television, a man’s leather-upholstered recliner, on rollers. The
arrangement confused me for a few moments, as the recliner faced the wall. However,
close examination of the concrete floor revealed a minute set of worn-in
grooves. Keaton often rolled out her recliner…to in front of her desk?
Oh. Right where someone would be able to watch the
television in comfort.
Keaton never watched television. She thought television
rotted the brain. She didn’t allow me a television in my own private space or
put one out in our common area.
It didn’t take me long to figure out when Keaton watched
television. At eleven in the morning, I rolled the recliner back and turned on
the television. At last, Keaton’s secret would be revealed. Her safe held her
hunting maps and hunting records, worth more to Keaton than my life, certainly,
but also certainly worthless to me as any sort of leverage on Keaton. She kept
her contact information locked inside the safe as well, or on her body, because
I couldn’t find the information anywhere else in her office. Which shot down
my entire reason for this breaking and entering, but nothing ventured, nothing
gained.
Yes, I did think of taking the safe, escaping, and
selling it back to her for my freedom…for about five seconds. A normal might
think that might work, and holding the safe for ransom might work on a normal.
Doing so wouldn’t work on an Arm. I knew my own regard for my hunt-related
possessions. If I took her safe, or the safe’s contents, she wouldn’t rest
until she killed me, no matter what interim agreements she might make with me
to get the contents back. Just plain running would be a lot safer. So, whatever
Keaton hid from me had something to do with what she watched on the television.
I turned on the television and learned.
Keaton laughed that night when she smelled my sweat on
her leather recliner. Laughed and laughed and laughed. I had spent the rest
of the day slinking around the warehouse, hoping she would spend a few days
longer out hunting, and be successful, just to give me a chance to recover. Instead,
she turned up for dinner, which I had to conjure out of nowhere for her royal,
juice-stoned ass. I earlier decided that if she punished me for going into her
office, her punishment wouldn’t be too harsh, because I had left the safe alone.
From an Arm’s perspective, her safe was the only true valuable in the office. I
had forgotten about my sweat.
Keaton had a sick sense of humor. I was the butt of it,
of course. Did she set her office up from the start just to humiliate me?
Perhaps. Considering the build-up she gave it? Almost certainly.
When I had turned on the television at eleven that morning,
the show turned out to be an idiot soap opera, Dark Shadows. How fitting that
Keaton was addicted to a vampire soap opera.
Rover’s Graduation
They waited by the beach at Mystic Lakes, where remnants
of the day still littered the sand. A few candy wrappers, an empty Coke
bottle, potato chip crumbs. The Indian Summer had driven temperatures up into
the seventies, enough to attract a few courageous swimmers to the icy waters. The
park closed at sunset, though, and Robert Sellers enjoyed the crisp coolness rolling
in with the night. Beside him, Master Occum grumbled under his breath about
slow, inconsiderate Transforms who couldn’t be bothered to arrive on time.
They had arranged to meet at midnight. It was 11:45. Sellers
metasensed the cluster of Transforms approaching in vehicles, and he suspected Master
Occum had metasensed them minutes before.
“Alright,” Master Occum said, shaking his head, “we’re
going to actually go through with
I found a note on the safe, though, in Keaton’s immaculate handwriting: “Took
you long enough, Skag. Touch the safe and you die.”
I almost peed on the floor.
Beyond the drafting table I found a television, and next
to the television, a man’s leather-upholstered recliner, on rollers. The
arrangement confused me for a few moments, as the recliner faced the wall. However,
close examination of the concrete floor revealed a minute set of worn-in
grooves. Keaton often rolled out her recliner…to in front of her desk?
Oh. Right where someone would be able to watch the
television in comfort.
Keaton never watched television. She thought television
rotted the brain. She didn’t allow me a television in my own private space or
put one out in our common area.
It didn’t take me long to figure out when Keaton watched
television. At eleven in the morning, I rolled the recliner back and turned on
the television. At last, Keaton’s secret would be revealed. Her safe held her
hunting maps and hunting records, worth more to Keaton than my life, certainly,
but also certainly worthless to me as any sort of leverage on Keaton. She kept
her contact information locked inside the safe as well, or on her body, because
I couldn’t find the information anywhere else in her office. Which shot down
my entire reason for this breaking and entering, but nothing ventured, nothing
gained.
Yes, I did think of taking the safe, escaping, and
selling it back to her for my freedom…for about five seconds. A normal might
think that might work, and holding the safe for ransom might work on a normal.
Doing so wouldn’t work on an Arm. I knew my own regard for my hunt-related
possessions. If I took her safe, or the safe’s contents, she wouldn’t rest
until she killed me, no matter what interim agreements she might make with me
to get the contents back. Just plain running would be a lot safer. So, whatever
Keaton hid from me had something to do with what she watched on the television.
I turned on the television and learned.
Keaton laughed that night when she smelled my sweat on
her leather recliner. Laughed and laughed and laughed. I had spent the rest
of the day slinking around the warehouse, hoping she would spend a few days
longer out hunting, and be successful, just to give me a chance to recover. Instead,
she turned up for dinner, which I had to conjure out of nowhere for her royal,
juice-stoned ass. I earlier decided that if she punished me for going into her
office, her punishment wouldn’t be too harsh, because I had left the safe alone.
From an Arm’s perspective, her safe was the only true valuable in the office. I
had forgotten about my sweat.
Keaton had a sick sense of humor. I was the butt of it,
of course. Did she set her office up from the start just to humiliate me?
Perhaps. Considering the build-up she gave it? Almost certainly.
When I had turned on the television at eleven that morning,
the show turned out to be an idiot soap opera, Dark Shadows. How fitting that
Keaton was addicted to a vampire soap opera.
Rover’s Graduation
They waited by the beach at Mystic Lakes, where remnants
of the day still littered the sand. A few candy wrappers, an empty Coke
bottle, potato chip crumbs. The Indian Summer had driven temperatures up into
the seventies, enough to attract a few courageous swimmers to the icy waters. The
park closed at sunset, though, and Robert Sellers enjoyed the crisp coolness rolling
in with the night. Beside him, Master Occum grumbled under his breath about
slow, inconsiderate Transforms who couldn’t be bothered to arrive on time.
They had arranged to meet at midnight. It was 11:45. Sellers
metasensed the cluster of Transforms approaching in vehicles, and he suspected Master
Occum had metasensed them minutes before.
“Alright,” Master Occum said, shaking his head, “we’re
going to actually go through with
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