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Showing posts from January, 2017

Mongrel: Verbal Fencing

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In which Tardi learns more Stormy history and Zebe helps to draw an octahedron ...
“Is that what that is meant to be?” Zebe said from behind them. “Give me the pen for a sec?”

Tardi felt more lines being drawn. Decisively. 

“When you draw it on a slant, it’s easier to see both the inner and the outer edges,” Zebe said. 
“What’s it meant to portray?”

“I swore an oath not to speak of it to a sapient,” Shad said. 

“So …” Zebe said. “I’m human and you are …?” Laughter in her voice. 

Fury in Shad’s tension.

Tardi rolled off the drawer-unit. “Shad and I are as human as anyone,” he said. “But we both also have Stormy blood. He’s teaching me the culture. There are stories of each of the cultures that can’t be, or aren’t, told to the other. As protection.”

“All the stories of my culture are free to be told anywhere,” Zebe said.

“I used to think that too,” Tardi said. “But Stormies have no access to the medical services story.”

Zebe gulped air, then laughed. “Touché.”

Last time Tardi heard that he fenced v…

Mongrel: Staying at Neil's

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Neil had the same kind of doubts again letting Shad and Tardi into his house, and again showed his displeasure with raised eyebrows.  

“I’d rather sleep under a bridge with them than enter a house where they aren’t welcome,” Zebe said. The first drops of rain tapped on the porch roof. Neil caved in without further protest. 

Idiot.

“Unoriginal, too,” Shad said. 

“Reading my mind again,” Tardi said. 

“Your expressive face.”

 Zebe directed them to set the bags of groceries they all carried on the living room floor. Every horizontal surface in the kitchen had laboratory jars on it. 

“I’m sure I told you to close the shutters,” Zebe said. 

Neil shrugged. “Sorry.”

As the house was closed up, Shad looked more and more pinched. Tardi didn’t feel much better. “Not sure if we can stay down here for the duration, Zebe,” he said. 

“It’s only while we …” she gestured. “Lift the floor of the mudroom, Neil. We’ll stack the whole lot under the floor.”

“But that’s our wine cellar,” Neil said.

“You may need to shif…

Mongrel: Travel Is on the Menu

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In the  Monster-Moored universe, the natural uneven rate of progress allows for the existence of wooden boats and spaceships in the same story. 
Tardi stood in the boat, swaying to its movement as though he surfed, and watched the only person waiting in the jetty transport park, a square-edged blond leaning against a hoverole done out with numerous SoHAB Security logos. A grey SoHAB Security uniform with creases and ironed-flat planes added to the squared effect. Neil, I assume. Though not looking nearly as teary as one would’ve expected.

The boat swung expertly alongside the jetty. Shad sprang out to loop the painters, front and rear, over the bollards. But as Zebe stepped onto the jetty, the man was right there to take her into his arms, with him now crying lustily.  

Mr Boatman shrugged and exchanged a wry glance with Tardi and Shad. 

They unloaded their packs and Zebe’s suitcases. 

A row of ten-storey buildings lining the square adjacent to the boat harbour interrupted the direction, n…

Mongrel: A Hard Truth or a Soft Lie

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Zebe's POV. In which Tardi meets the woman who intends to drag him from his path. Of course he is tempted. Wouldn't you be?

Zebe fetched his clothes. “If you want in with the Huddle, you need to smell and taste of them. Why would you though?” she said, blushing. “I mean, why would you now?”

He turned his back and dropped the towel. Stepped into the pants. For once not many roots to get in his way. “Umm. Not out of choice. Which would be to be my normal self able to … um … with you.” Would he put it so blatantly if he didn’t see the writing on the wall for himself? How much time would they have? He slid his arms into the shirt she held open for him.  

“Umm?” she said encouragingly. 

“Well, dally then. A useful Stormy term.”

“Let’s dally. Take what time we have,” she said.

They met in the middle with her stepping forward and him not stepping back.

“If you don’t mind …” he started.

She buried her hands in his weird hair. “What I just said.” Covered his mouth with her lips. 

Glued. Sliding…