Science Fiction and Fantasy Box Set 1: The Squishies Series

by Claire Chilton

  He blinked through the night vision goggles he wore, trying to focus while hanging upside down. He gritted his teeth and locked his eyes onto the podium beneath him.

  Don’t screw this up. He slowly exhaled, trying to calm himself down before studying the silver egg.

  Very slowly—to ensure he didn’t cause vibrations of any kind—he reached into his jacket pocket and slowly unzipped it. He was thankful for the thick band of material surrounding his goggles because it soaked up the beads of sweat on his forehead and stopped the moisture dropping through the infrared beams and triggering the alarms.

  Breaking in via the adjacent elevator shaft to get in through the ventilation systems had been the easy part. The last thing he wanted was to set off the alarms while he was stuck in the vault.

  He pulled a small silver USB drive from his pocket. With a slow, controlled movement, he stretched his arm down through one of the many small gaps in the web of infrared lights to reach the silver server.

  His hand trembled inside his black leather gloves when the sleeve of his jacket came close to one of the red beams, but he reached the top of the silver egg without triggering the alarms.

  He plugged the USB into one of the sockets on the server. A tiny screen on the USB lit up, showing it was downloading everything in the system.

  Holding his breath, he nervously waited for the device to copy the files. He watched the tiny figures on the USB drive slowly increase as it downloaded everything in DalsonCorp’s private server. So far, so good.

  He held his position until the numbers on the USB reached one-hundred per cent.

  Expelling a soft sigh when the download had finished, he pulled the USB out of the top of the server. Then he slowly raised his arm out of the web of beams, and put the now full USB drive back in his jacket pocket before zipping it back up.

  He reached up for the button on the pulley to raise himself out of the vault.

  His blue-skinned hand slipped off the button as he jerked when the cell phone in his back pocket began vibrating against his ass, and he felt it slide out. He reached back—too late. The phone slipped through his fingers, and it fell through the infrared beams before hitting the floor with a loud clunk.

  “Crap!” He swore as the phone continued to vibrate on the vault floor.

  Alarms blared around him as the security system was triggered. There were shouts outside the room before the doors of the vault burst open. I’m a dead man.

  He glanced down at the floor. The phone was still ringing with a picture of a pretty purple-skinned girl lighting up on the screen. Carla.

  Ignoring the danger of the situation, he tried to reach the phone, but it was too far from his grasp. Several armed guards rushed into the room, pausing for a second when they noticed him hanging upside down from the ceiling.

  After a split-second of silence, they aimed their guns at him, shouting for him to put his hands in the air.

  The irony of hanging upside down and being told to put your hands in the air was not lost on Parklon as he slammed his finger on the raise button of the pulley, shaking his head at the phone he’d left behind on the vault floor.

  The grappling line made a whirring sound as the pulley jerked him up. He zoomed up the fifty-foot shaft. On the way up, he pulled a gun out of his jacket and shot down at the guards below. They scattered for cover out of the path of his bullets.

  He took aim carefully and shot at the cell phone on the floor. It shattered into several pieces when he hit it dead center. Sighing, he checked his gun. He only had two bullets left, so he held back on firing any more, saving them for when the guards ventured back out into his line of sight.

  About halfway up the shaft, he fired a warning shot to keep the guards back, and then he swung his legs back, creating enough momentum to spin his body around on the rope. He used his abs and his free hand to pull himself upright so he was facing the right way up. The fast-moving rope left burn marks on his black leather gloves when he touched it.

  A bullet whirred past his ear. He spun back and shot the last bullet down to scatter the guards, crying out when one of the guard’s bullets hit its mark and sliced across his left buttock.

  He gritted his teeth. The bullet wound stung like hell, and he could feel blood rolling down his left leg. Angrily, he threw the empty gun down at the guard who’d shot him, feeling a moment of satisfaction when it hit the guard on the head and knocked him on his ass.

  The remaining guards below shot directly upwards at him, but stopped when some of the bullets came back down towards them with the force of gravity behind them.

  Parklon reached the top of the vault and pulled himself up into the air vent. He scrambled into the small tunnel and checked his legs for damage. He had a few holes in the legs of his combat trousers, and he’d definitely been shot in the ass, but other than that appeared to have escaped unscathed.

  He stared at the blood on his hand before tenderly feeling his backside. It was bleeding, but since it wasn’t gushing with blood, he suspected he’d live.

  He peered down the shaft at the shattered phone on the floor. Crap, crap, crap.

  The phone looked pretty messed up. He just hoped no one could access the data on it. He knew it had been stupid to bring the phone, but he hadn’t wanted to miss a call from Carla.

  Great plan, dumbass!

  He glanced down at the guards below, who were racing from the vault, probably to try to catch him on the upper levels instead.

  He turned to face the way out, scurrying through the small stretch of ventilation shaft and kicking off the grate over it. The grate dropped away to reveal a long elevator shaft.

  He climbed out of the tunnel onto a small ledge just under the opening, wincing at the hot pain streaking across his buttock. He pulled off his goggles and blinked sweat out of his eyes, taking a moment to slow down his racing heart as he dropped the goggles down the shaft. That was too close.

  The elevator was stationary, just a few feet ahead of him. He inhaled before jumping across the shaft, landing squarely on the top of the lift.

  After opening the panel in the roof of the elevator, he dropped through it and landed clumsily inside. He groaned as streaks of pain shot up his back, from the wound on his backside. If I get out of this alive, it’ll be a miracle.

  The lift was empty except for a large black hold all. He knelt over the bag and hurriedly pulled out a black suit and black briefcase.

  Quickly stripping off his clothes, he threw them into the bag. Then he carefully pulled the suit trousers over his wounded ass cheek and fastened them. At least they’re dark. It’ll hide any bleeding.

  He shrugged into the white shirt, leaving the shirt unbuttoned as he reached across the compartment to unhook a device from the lift’s control panel that had blocked the call signal, keeping it stationary for him. He pressed the G button for the ground-floor.

  Once the elevator began moving, he fastened up his shirt across his blue-skinned chest and put on his tie. His hands shook while he tightened his tie. He gritted his teeth. Pull yourself together!

  He grabbed the USB from inside his shredded combat jacket, which was now in the hold all and put it into the black leather briefcase.

  The lift dropped down towards the ground-floor as he zipped up the bag. He swung it up and threw it through the opening in the top of the lift, wincing as more pain shot up his back.

  Gritting his teeth, he jumped up and pulled the grate shut, expelling a whimper of pain as the wound on his backside stretched when he jumped.

  He watched the numbers of the level ding by as he shrugged into the suit jacket and fastened the buttons.

  After tugging on the suit to smooth it out, he picked up the briefcase. He ran his fingers through his navy-blue hair to style it less erratically before the elevator doors opened onto a large foyer with a ding.

  Shooting a wary glance at the large group of people waiting for the lift, he smiled politely as he stepped out of the elevator and crossed the reception area. />
  He slipped by as a team of security guards raced past him towards the lift, rudely pushing people out of their way.

  When he walked to the reception desk, he saw security staff speaking urgently to the receptionist.

  He hurried his pace, knowing that they’d be initiating a lockdown of the building soon. He walked towards the exit, stepping out of the building and into the street. He inhaled a deep breath of fresh air before he climbed into his sleek silver car and drove away.

  Mission accomplished.

  Bob glanced back over his shoulder as he raced through the trees, his heart thundering in his chest. He couldn’t see anything through the thick jungle, but he listened for the sound of hooves pounding on the dusty ground behind them. Breathing a sigh when he heard nothing but the sounds of nature, he pumped his arms and forced his legs to keep moving.

  He turned and peered at Isabella Foamy, who was running beside him. She was holding up well considering they had been running almost non-stop for four days, only stopping to sleep when they couldn't go on anymore. With only minutes here and an hour there, neither of them had enough rest. They’d had barely any food. Fatigue was beginning to slow them down as they ran with the sun burning down through the trees in patches of fire on their skin.

  It was unbearably hot. The atmosphere was sticky with humidity, and the air was dirty with dust and pollen.

  Every muscle in his body ached, and his skin was sore from numerous cuts and scratches. He knew if they didn't find water soon they wouldn't survive.

  He could see a clearing ahead in the tropical forest and hear water running. He motioned to Isabella to run in that direction.

  She nodded in understanding, a brave expression of determination set on her face. He wanted to hug her, to let her know that everything was going to be okay, but he wasn’t sure it would be.

  Why did I put us in this situation? I couldn’t just have left well enough alone.

  He felt a blossom of hope. Maybe we got away.

  It had been hours since they had heard the threatening hooves of their pursuers pounding the earth as they neared their prey. Perhaps finally they had run far enough and left the hunters behind them. Perhaps now they were safe and could finally rest.

  He grabbed Isabella’s green-skinned hand when they broke through the clearing of exotic trees, and he squeezed it in hope. He should never have come home. He'd forgotten how dangerous it was in Kalamar, and it had only grown worse in his time away. Whatever the information he’d found meant, it wasn’t worth dying for.

  He brushed back the large leafy fronds of the jungle with his free hand to see the path ahead as he pulled Isabella behind him.

  His heart skipped a beat as the path fell away, and he realized that there was no path ahead, just a long drop off the edge of a cliff. He gasped as his momentum carried him over the edge, and he fell.

  In a moment of pure terror, he clawed at the cliff face with his free hand. The fall abruptly ended as his arm jerked to a painful halt when he managed to get a grip on the edge of the crumbling cliff.

  Isabella dropped to her knees and grabbed his orange-skinned wrists. She tried to pull him back up over the edge of the cliff, but her slim green arms trembled, trying to hold his weight.

  He glanced back. The rock face dropped down into angry waters below. His only grip on the solid world was the crumbling cliff edge, and the small hands of his companion.

  “Bob, no!” Isabella cried out when the edge of cliff he was holding crumbled away in his hands, and all that he had to hold onto was her. Her compact green body was dragged to the ground, now bearing the weight of his larger, orange-skinned form in her small hands.

  Sweat stung his eyes, and his bright orange hair poked in his left eye in dark, dusty wet strands.

  He glanced down. It was a sixty-foot drop into a fast-moving river below, with violent waters crashing against the sharp rocks. He tried to grip onto the cliff face, but bits of moss and stone came away in his free hand.

  This is it—I’m going to die.

  He peered up at Isabella. She looked so young, considering she was in her late thirties. Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy ponytail with wisps of gold billowing around her face. Her lime-green skin was glowing from the sunshine. Covered in dirt and sweat, and dressed in her little denim hiking shorts and a vest, she looked beautiful.

  He stared into her wide green eyes. He wasn't going to take her with him on this journey. She deserved to live out her life happily and far away from here.

  “No!” she cried when he let go of her hand and dropped like a stone into the crashing waters below.

  The last thing he heard was her screaming his name. Then the cold waters engulfed him and swallowed him whole.

  Carla yawned and closed her eyes. Whatever else her powers had done, using them had drained her. She just wanted to sleep for a week. She hugged a big mug of hot chocolate in her hands and took a sip, fully aware it wasn’t a solution to her problems. Since she didn’t have a solution to her current problems, it was a comforting alternative.

  The only thing she could think of doing now was calling Parklon. He might know of a job she could do. He might at least give her a reference that didn’t mention her blowing up windows and making her former boss pee his pants.

  She put the mug down on the coffee table and picked up her cell phone, trying to convince herself to make the call. The problem was that he hadn’t called her for a long time, and she didn’t even know if he still considered her a friend.

  Time and distance had made them strangers. What would he say to her if she called for help after all this time? What if he thinks I’m a loser?

  She shook her head and steeled herself for the worst as she dialed his number. After exhaling a deep breath, she pressed the call button.

  She held the phone close to her ear and chewed her lip while the phone rang. After four rings, it clicked. “Hi, it’s Carla…” she nervously said.

  She trailed off when an electronic voice interrupted. “Parklon is not available right now. Please leave a message after the tone—Bleep!”

  “Er, uh… No. Crap!” She quickly yanked the phone away from her ear and hung up. She never knew what to say on those stupid answer machines.

  It dawned on her that she’d just left Parklon a message that made no sense. She was pretty certain that ‘Er, uh…? No. Crap!’ wasn’t the most appealing message to inspire him to call her back. She sighed with defeat. Okay, being a loser isn’t the worst thing that can happen. That message is!

  She put the phone back in her bag and dropped the bag on the floor near her feet. It seemed she was totally on her own with this.

  Bob was off travelling the world, Parklon was somewhere in Zoola working, and her brother, Joe, was on the Citna Islands starting his first year of university. There really wasn’t anyone else she could call.

  She peered around her cluttered living room, feeling terribly lonely here in Derobmi on her own. Even her mom was away at the moment, at a Dumfollobian Rights conference.

  They’re all off living their own adventures, without me.

  She glanced down at the magazine on her lap. It was called ‘Jello’ and had scandalous stories emblazoned across the front page, including a big red star over a picture of Krellin Foamy. She glanced at the headline.

  STAR OF SOCIETY IN SAUCY SEX SCANDAL!

  She had read the story. Apparently, Krellin had been seeing a Zoolaf girl, and they'd had sex.

  Zoolaf girls did have a reputation for being a bit loose with their morals. Mostly, the mention of Zoola just made Carla think about Parklon.

  Parklon was originally from the colony of Zoola and had returned there after his new promotion. Zoola was a colony of blue-skinned people, which was situated in the colder northern regions of the planet of Dumfollab.

  The citizens of Zoola worshipped drinking and partying. Their main deity was the Budda Wiser Frog, a rotund green god with a glowing red nose. Socially, they were a rowdy lot, but their ec
onomy was stable due to the success of their largest export—beer.

  In comparison, Carla’s home colony of Derobmi was predominantly green-skinned. It was south-east of Zoola and benefited from high levels of precipitation providing it with lush green landscapes, but also many rainy days. Derobmi was home to one of the largest scientific institutions in the world, and its main export was cleaning products.

  Derobmi society was very prim and proper. The colony worshipped cleanliness and hygiene above all else. Cleanliness was next to godliness. In fact, in Derobmi, cleanliness was godliness.

  Derobmi had changed a lot over the last year, but it still wasn't entirely up to date on what was scandalous and what wasn't. It was still obsessed with cleanliness and everything green.

  Carla was not green. She was purple, and she didn’t really understand the obsession with cleaning. She didn’t even know much about the purple colony that her father was from. She was a half-breed, who didn’t really belong anywhere.

  Even after saving Derobmi from a devastating disease and a murderer last year, she still didn’t really belong here.

  She flipped through the pages of the magazine without really reading any of it. She didn't even know why she'd bought it in the first place. It was mostly fiction, but when she'd seen Krellin’s face looking at her from the front cover while passing the newsstand on the way home, something had compelled her to buy it.

  Krellin was her ex-boyfriend, sort of. He was quite famous in Derobmi and had looked so happy in the pictures. Something had seemed terribly wrong with that.

  He was the bad guy. How could he be so happy when she was not? She wasn't fool enough to think she had ever really loved him, and a very small part of her was happy for him, but she was jealous and angry too.

  He looked so content, so unbelievably at peace with everything he had done in the past while she was still chasing her happiness. Why couldn't she be content too?