Sour Notes
Book 2 The Xeno City Blues Series
Todd C. Wilson
Sour Notes Copyright © 2020 by Todd C. Wilson. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by The Gilded Quill
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Todd C. Wilson
Visit www.castrumpress.com/author/todd-c-wilson
Published in the United Kingdom
First Published: May 2020
Castrum Press
Table of Contents
Sour Notes - Todd C. Wilson Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About The Author
Books by The Author
Prologue
I
stood by, powerless, emergency services swirling around. Multiple bodies lay on the floor at my feet, most of them dead. Like so many before them, they were there because of me. A gurney crashed through the door, ready to take ownership. One, clean, professional lift later it rushed back outside, precious cargo on board. I let it go. I had caused enough damage.
Someone was talking to me, but the voice sounded like it was muffled by a thick fog. A hand grabbed my arm and shone a bright light into my eyes, my already pounding headache exploding. I blinked and jerked myself free with a feral snarl, not in the mood to be poked and prodded. I turned away and headed for the door, ignoring the questions being thrown at me. I didn’t have any answers, not for them. The ones I did have barely made any sense to me.
Outside the night air was cool and crisp, the scent of rain somewhere in the distance. I rubbed my bare arms, cold without my coat. I touched Roosevelt, the gun slung high and tight across my chest. My oldest and closest friend.
I turned away from the scene of death and destruction and began the long walk home, to an empty apartment.
Alone
Chapter 1
L
ieutenant Araimer was cheating and somehow hiding how he was doing it, which really ticked me off.
The tripod was up thirty-seven chips and sporting that smug look he gets when he’s holding a solid hand. Me, I was staring at a galaxy wobbler paired with a satellite kicker. Not a great hand, but not a terrible one either. Any other night I would be downright ecstatic and work the table, bluffing until every other player folded. But tonight, I couldn’t seem to get started to save my life, having failed to win a single round all night.
“Raise six,” Araimer shrilled, smugly pushing his bet into the middle of the table. I wanted to punch the cop right in his fat face but throttled it back. A case of kimchi flavored peanuts was on the line, the last one left in the city two months after The Event cut Xeno City off from the rest of the known universe. Grounded cargo freighters had been emptied as their crews were furloughed, gravity fields gone along with their hyperdrives. So far, the city had been getting by, local producers stepping up and doing their best to fill the gaps in the market, but you could tell people were worried. Along with space travel suddenly grinding to a halt, a bigger problem was no longer having access to the endless supply of snacks and weekly podcasts. Not to mention the slightly other less important items like medicine and spare parts. The Xenos hailing from lighter gravity worlds were having the worst of it, standard one g was too much for their delicate bodies to handle. One entire wing of the main hospital was given over to saline flotation tanks, providing a watery lifeline to the otherwise crushing weight.
“Meet and call,” I responded sourly, matching Araimer’s bet. Uavoo hooted out a grunt and did the same, the shucked turtle sounding about as pleased as I felt. Both of us looked to our fourth player of the evening, a green blob with a porn star mustache that went by the moniker Huboberplaph, or something that sounded like it. I didn’t know what planet or swamp Huboberplaph hailed from, but he seemed to be a nice enough pile of sentient goo, even if he had terrible taste in shirts.
Before the blob could figure out what he wanted to do, Araimer’s phone rang, the warbling tone loud in the enclosed space underneath the Escape Bar and making us all jump.
The phone continued to warble until Araimer fumbled it out and mashed a clawed finger on the accept key. “What do you want! I’m off duty!” he shrilled. He listened to whomever was on the other end for a few seconds before speaking again. “Have the tactics section deal with it, that's what they’re for.” A muffled voice from the phone appeared to disagree causing Araimer to scrunch up his face. “What? Oh fine. Yes, yes, I’m on my way.” He hung up and tossed his cards on the table, sweeping the pot and his pile of chips into a jacket pocket without a word. My eyes quickly scanned his cards and my lips thinned. Stellar cluster with a nova bump. Like I said, cheating.
“There’s a riot on the Outer Loop. Someone got the locals wound up and they’re marching on the Science Facility. Third time this week.”
“Likely story,” I grumbled. “So, what are we supposed to do now, twiddle our thumbs and look at each other?” My eyes flicked to the pile of goo sitting beside me. “No offense, Huboberplaph.”
“None taken,” Huboberplaph burbled from somewhere left of center. The blob formed a squishy fist and extended one stubby pseudopod out, wiggling it back and forth. “See? All good.”
“Just keep playing. I should be back in an hour,” Araimer said. He jiggled the pocket containing his winnings. “I feel lucky tonight.”
“You feel something,” I muttered under my breath. “Okay, one hour. Then we find a replacement.” I was already thinking Zam Ziplose might be a good choice – at least I could count on him being honest. Unlike a certain police officer that I could name.
“Your deal, Huboberplaph,” I said as Araimer left and I returned my attention to the game intent on winning some of my money back.
✽✽✽
Half an hour later I was feeling better, winning more than I was losing and learning about Huboberplaph. Turns out that he and Uavoo were semi-competitors, working the art and antiquity relocation field. By that I mean they relocated rare and expensive items from one person to the next, usually without the prior person’s knowledge or consent. Me, in my role as a private investigator, considered myself more of a dabbler in the relocation business, only doing it occasionally and then at the behest of a client in the middle of a nasty divorce proceeding. For Uavoo and Huboberplaph, however, it was a full-time gig, so they swapped war stories while I listened in. Finally, Uavoo got around to telling Huboberplaph the story of our latest joint venture where he and I had worked together two months prior, breaking into the Spacer’s Guild so I could hand out a little old-fashioned Jazz Justice. Nothing like the sight of a shucked turtle getting all goofy to distract you from doing your job. Uavoo and I took turns telling Huboberplaph about nerve janglers and sticky bombs, the blob distracted enough to draw down on a moon triplet
when he should have stood pat.
“But didn’t that hurt?” Huboberplaph bubbled, mustache doing a weird dance. The blob tossed his cards on the table as I raked in the pot. Nine credits, lucky me.
“Nawz,” Uavoo said, waving his – or her, I still wasn’t sure which way the Xeno leaned – arms around. “Ticklez, like a nice – “
The room jumped, knocking me out of my chair. “What the hell?” I spluttered as the room jumped again, this time with feeling. The overhead lights flickered once and then died leaving us in darkness. I held my breath for a couple of seconds until the battery powered backups flickered weakly into life. A groaning noise made me look up, the ceiling beams were bent well out of true and giving every indication they were about to violate their warranties.
“Out! Out!” I yelled, grabbing my hat and coat, and making for the stairs at a dead run: peanuts and poker chips be spaced. Women, children, and squishy humans first is my motto. Uavoo was of a similar mind and right behind me. For a humanoid turtle, he was certainly fast enough and more than a little pushy.
“What?” Huboberplaph said, the blob twisting around and dark spots I assumed were eyes looking directly upwards. “Oh, that doesn’t look so bad,” he said just as one of the protesting beams let go, finally having enough of this nonsense. I lost sight of Huboberplaph as the Escape Bar’s storage room collapsed downwards, burying the blob in broken concrete and twisted rebar, empty beer kegs bouncing everywhere. The stairs under my feet jolted off to one side and flung me off balance. I would have fallen backwards down the stairs if not for Uavoo blocking the road and keeping me from joining the mess below.
“Huboberplaph!” I coughed out, trying to reverse course in a choking cloud of silica dust. “Huboberplaph! Uavoo, we gotta go back!” Uavoo was having none of that, the turtle’s normally laid-back attitude nowhere to be found. I found out how surprisingly strong the squat turtle was as he pushed me up and out onto the main floor of the Escape Bar, joining the other patrons who were milling around and looking lost in the subdued emergency lighting. Once into the bar proper, Uavoo lost no time in heading towards the front door and vanishing into the night air. I let him go, figuring Uavoo was in full-fledged panic mode and, short of shooting him, I wouldn’t be able to stop him anyways. I turned back towards the stairs we had just come up but failed to complete the maneuver, dancing to keep my footing as the building shook again and parts of the stairwell collapsed. A low rumbling sound came through the shattered windows, jagged shards of glass scattered around and gleaming wickedly in the emergency lights.
Planetquake of some sort? I thought to myself, not believing it for a second. I’d experienced planetquakes before, and this didn’t feel like one. The footings of Xeno City were connected to good solid bedrock, one of the major draws for locating a spaceport here in the first place. But with The Event disabling hyperdrives and any tech more complicated than a self-heating meal, I figured anything was possible. A distant flash of light preceded another rumble, thankfully without the accompanying dance routine this time. I mentally timed the difference between the flash and the sound arriving at my ears, pegging the source a little more than a kilometer away. I racked my brain cells trying to recall what had any blowy-upy capabilities in that direction when my phone rang and short-circuited my mental efforts.
“Jazz! Jazz, my good friend. I trust none of this is your doing?” Zam ‘The Man’ Ziplose said into my ear, his voice at once both accusatory and relieved.
“I have nothing to do with this. And I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I replied snippily, turning towards the stairs once again. A green pseudopod oozed upwards, waving around weakly. I raced over, kneeling down to offer Huboberplaph a hand while keeping the phone glued to my ear. “Uavoo took off somewhere, but the last I saw he was fine.” I did my best to keep my grip on the pseudopod's surface and pull without tearing something, the rubbery flesh yielding more than I liked. One of the dark spots I had assumed was the blob’s eyes swam towards me, mitten hand forming with a stubby thumb for a moment. I braced myself the best that I could, giving Huboberplaph something to leverage against as it tried to pull itself out of the tangle of brick and plaster.
“Well yes, you are always fine. I would never assume otherwise. But frankly speaking, whenever there are loud explosions going on you are typically involved in some manner, either tangentially if not personally responsible,” Zam said, scolding me.
“Frankly speaking, I don’t care for your tone or what you’re implying.” I answered, putting what I felt was just the right amount of indignation into my voice. “And while we’re on the subject, are you certain it wasn’t one of your little experiments gone haywire?” I heaved backwards and my feet slipped out from under me sending me onto my ass, Huboberplaph’s gelatinous body stretching out in what I could only assume was a painful manner. At least it would have been painful for me, but then again, I had bones and lots of them.
Zam sniffed over the phone. “All of my collectible items are fully accounted for. Except for the ones you have yet to return or pay me the money you owe for their continual use.”
“None of those go bang. So, wait, it was a bang? Not a planetquake or fault line letting go?” The part of Huboberplaph I had ahold of gripped tighter and started to swell, syrupy fluid flowing under rubbery skin. The visual was disturbing but also strangely fascinating at the same time, reminding me of a Tadrul I had once dated that could do the same thing with her tail. But at least then you couldn’t see what was going on under the hood which made it slightly less stomach churning.
“A seismic event? Stars no, we never get those here.” Said Zam in a condescending tone. “The planet is too old, too geologically stable for such nonsense. No, the center of the event is located somewhere on the Outer Loop, roughly in or around the Science Facility.”
A cold chill ran down my spine. “Zam, I’m gonna have to call you back.” I thumbed the disconnect and turned my attention to the blob hanging off my arm. “Huboberplaph, you good?” A second eye joined the first and another mitten-thumb formed. I guess whatever Huboberplaph used to vocalize with was still with the remainder of its body stretched out under the demolished staircase. We’d have to wait until later to have a proper conversation. I dialed one-handed, picking a number from my contact list.
“C’mon, c’mon, answer the stupid phone. Blast and space,” I cursed as my ear filled with Araimer’s whiny voice telling me to leave a message. I disconnected and tried again, getting the same result. The third time it didn’t even ring, a robotic voice blandly informed me that all circuits were busy, and I should try again later. The robot repeated itself in three languages, letting me know that whatever was going on, it had lots of people worried.
I knew Araimer could take care of himself, but to be honest, I was one of those worrying.
✽✽✽
Outside the Escape Bar was the same as inside – lots of confusion and nobody knowing much of anything. Power was out in spots but working in others, beings of all stripes and colors gathered under pools of lights. Those of us without stripes and favoring a more monochromatic color set had our eyes fixed on the north where a yellowish glow like a waning sun was visible in the distance.
What was left of Huboberplaph was curled around my upper arm and dripping into my coat pocket, rubbery flesh cold and trembling. A good chunk of the blob got left behind, Huboberplaph suddenly tearing in half when the stairwell shifted again. The torn area sealed itself over before leaking too much, but I wasn’t up on my random blob xenophysilogy as much as I should be, so I didn’t know if this was normal or if Huboberplaph needed medical attention. Or some quick-set adhesive and a bicycle patch. Whatever the prognosis, the blob was looking less and less green by the moment, so I felt like I needed to do something.
“Okay, hang in there Huboberplaph.” I paused before looking directly at the dripping Xeno. “You know, I don’t know if Huboberplaph is even your real name, or if I’m pronouncing it correctly. Probably not enough plaph�
�s. How about something shorter and more stylish? Huboberplaph’s kinda long. I’m gonna call you Bob from now on. How’s that sound? Bob the blob?” I chattered nervously, looking around in a vain effort to spot Uavoo. He would know more about Huboberplaph – Bob – than I did, but nobody I asked had seen a two-meter tall naked turtle running around. I guess they were too busy worrying about their own skins, naked or otherwise.
In a flash of insight, I realized that I did know someone who might know about blobs, and I wouldn’t have to chase them all over town. Hauling out my phone I hit the speed dial for Zam, talking the instant he picked up.
“Zam, I’ve got a problem. Extreme physical trauma, two pieces kind… No, not me. Bob. Bob the blob… I don’t know what planet. Green. Well, not so green now… No, I can’t put him on the phone… Will you shut up a second?” I said, frustrated at Zam’s continual interruptions. “Me, Bob, Uavoo and Araimer… Yes that Araimer… Will you please let me finish? Playing cards for a case of peanuts in the basement of the Escape Bar… No, the kimchi ones… Yes, my favorite. Long story short, things happened, and the ceiling collapsed on Bob. I couldn’t get all of him out, and I’m trying to carry what’s left.” At this point Bob must have decided it really liked me because part of it flowed up over my shoulder and down inside my shirt, my skin reacting by going all goose-bumpy from being in close contact with cold Xeno flesh. I hoped Bob was enjoying the smell of my drying sweat because I sure as space wasn’t. I guess his nose was somewhere under the rubble along with the mustache and ugly shirt.
“About thirty, thirty-five kilos now. Maybe eighty before? No, I didn’t taste it you sicko, but it smelled salty-sweet… Huh. Bob stop that! It tickles. I think Bob is cold and trying to get warm by crawling inside my clothing… Okay, that makes sense… Right. Sure, I know the place. Meet you there.” I hung up and looked around, squinting at the street signs, and ignoring the yellow glow from the north. I got my bearings and took off at a fast jog, Bob squirming around and threatening to slip further down than I was comfortable with, at least not until we got to know each other better and maybe not even then. I finally got tired of pulling Bob up only to have the blob fall back down so I stopped and took off my coat and shirt, ignoring the random Xenos wandering around and looking at me funny. Thankfully, body shyness was something I didn’t suffer from. Besides, most Xenos didn’t know what a half-naked human looked like in the first place and if they did, I couldn’t care less at the moment. If anybody asked, I planned on telling them I was doing a performance art piece in honor of the great sky god; Don’t Givva Flip. Yanking Bob free I draped the blob over my shoulders and down my chest like a pale green scarf, arranging things so the blob’s weight was evenly distributed. Re-fastening my shirt over the both of us, I left my coat unbuttoned and flapping in the breeze, not having much of a choice in the matter. Maybe I could start a new fashion trend.
Sour Notes Page 1
