Success in Part - III E-Book

Suzann Dodd

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Sharon is found, but has no memory.  Taken on board the ship of the enemy, suffering reactions to the shards of the past which break through the prison of her mind, eDapktchoy tries to comfort.

Leseprobe

Suzann Dodd

Success in Part - III

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Taste of Success

THE TASTE OF SUCCESS

TONY JOHNSONByroBETA MARJanuary 3, 2497

The revolt at McCartney Hall was top news. To crack my crazy I got Horace on the com. At answer he began shouting about riot, amazed I survived. I hadn't penned he'd seen me nearly get trampled. He was hysterical and I didn't want to samba in his fear.

"I don't know what played and neither do you! The key is the concert. We have to hold it!"

I'm a psychiatrist, a good one, able to finesse brains. Able to redirect, misdirect, and focus on achievables. Go to what is--leave out what we can't deal.

Is it riot because our concert is a cancel?

I'm good at what I do. I hatch confidence. What I'm outputting isn't second cousin to the truth, but then I'm the biggest lie walking. I wasn't holding reggae concerts to make money, I'd concocted them to find Sharon. I'd found her, the Zerks took her, move on. I've got a life and a lie to live.

Forget there were Zerks on the roof, forget the Union Police went into rabid dog mode, don't number the people who were shot, squashed, gassed, stunned and otherwise damaged. That's not important. Holding the concert is important.

Horace, who'd been mouth marking the latest version of "Man's Inhumanity to Man", terminates the track and reboots. He gets Jerry, his second; a serious credit catcher, on conference. Words beginning with 'Z' would eat our pockets. Besides, that was past tense.

So what if there were Zees on the roof. The Zerks invaded months ago, war was old news, Reggae concerts were nova.

The faces in the restaurant were drinking me, sucking every word, soon to swarm like bees, so I locked Horace, and went out, dinging for a robotaxi, as I moved. I hoped it would come before the patrons began asking questions for which I didn't own answer.

As a holy chariot, down comes the dented wreck of the cheapest taxi in town. I had it get me to the roof of McCartney Hall where I was jazzed by UPs, but Scorpio ran interference.

I don't know what Scorpio knows, don't want to know him, but he was useful. We got our boombah up, four hours late, but hey, isn't 'soon come'  the Jamaican motto?

Late tonight, our ears catching peace, reporters gone, credits counted, taxes paid, bent back with our favorite intoxicants, me and my team could mouth orbit the Zerks.

And I could replay and reask myself questions I couldn't answer.

And Then Let Go

TO HAVE AND HOLD AND THEN LET GO

GINA SCORPIOGAMIER

Chuka wouldn't speak to me. He sat on the roof edge as if he'd jump and we stood behind him, acolytes in a ritual.

I'd apologised so many times I couldn't recite. I'd cried. I'd screamed. If he'd curse me, I'd feel alive.

As each member of the cell arrived, some bailed, some fresh from the hospital, they were brought online.Now, Menna enters, soggy with blood. Dov elects the task of raconteur. I couldn't hold silence. I tried to enunciate as if I were speaking to Deltas, but my voice tore;

"Chuka was lying in the street! There was a stampede!"

And coming so softly; "What is the value of my life, Gina?" Chuka asks.

I beheld him, unconditional love miring as words crowded my throat. But he was a stranger, suddenly a stranger, and there was nothing I could say to him.

His voice chanted the chorus: "What is the value of your life? Any of us--?"

We stood frozen, waiting for the revelation. He proclaimed: "Nothing."