I’ve posted this before, on a previous blog, but I’m sure it’s 2 years back, so here it is again – with improvements:
Everyone has some little sort of superstition. Some check in their cupboards before going to bed. Some think 13 is a lucky number and celebrate it. Some read their horoscopes. Some believe in some weird conspiracies. (Well, in the Solar Wind they’d be daft not to – they are the conspiracy!) Here is some Federi-style superstition:
They ran towards the docks. The two limping pirates were nowhere in sight; neither was the boat. Federi fiddled with his wrist-com, still spooked from the way Jack Miller had died. Paean had been too late to see it, but…
“Wolf, come in! Shawn! Where are you?”
Johnny Anyhow raised Jack Miller’s gun at him. “You have the right to remain silent!” And a semi-circle of gunmen in grey Unicate uniforms emerged from the surrounding buildings and converged on them, their automatics raised for execution. Federi cursed. Blast! And icy calm set in. It never did to panic.
He had led Paean right into the net – out of panic. Johnny’s net? He wondered! The man had been working for Miller. Both Millers. And that gun nozzle didn’t look promising either.
He scanned the surrounds in an idle hope of spotting Wolf and Shawn. No chance. His eyes darted to the soldiers. Young guys, Ronan’s age… no, wait! Not all. There were veterans amongst them. At least four. A mixed bunch. Mercenaries maybe. Federi counted the enemy. Twelve. On the other side, the ocean, not ten paces away.
If he were alone, he’d jump and dive. Disappear into the green water of the harbour. Should he give the signal? No. Paean was a good diver, but she’d be dead before she hit the waves. Should he just run for it himself? Move between the bullets, like he used to? Come back later when they didn’t expect it, and free her? No. She’d bolt after him and come to grief. Anyway, who knew what these ruffians were going to do to her if he left her in their tender care? He eyed them in perfect stillness.
Twelve, thought the gypsy. Twelve submarines; twelve armed guys. Twelve apostles. He thought he spotted a pattern. Twelve planets in the Solar System. No. Wait.
Later – still Freedom Fighter:
Fourteen UFO’s were lined up in the dock of the Space Base. Radomir Lascek eyed them with deep satisfaction. One of them was Paean’s; one was Perdita’s. The others were from the base.
“Good work, Federi!”
“Thank you, Captain!” Federi frowned. “Funny that – twelve of them!”
“Just thought,” said Federi thoughtfully. “Spotted a pattern.”
“Wait!” Federi held up a hand. “I’ve heard something weird like that in the meeting, few minutes back. So there’s an intergalactic council?”
“But yes,” said Paean impatiently. “They make the Intergalactic Law! They see to it that it is kept, and they deal with people who …” She came to a halt, and stared at Federi, and started giggling. “I think I know the right man who must deal with them!”
Federi grinned. “This Intergalactic Law. Let’s see… is it more a set of guidelines?”
She laughed. But then she got serious again. “Federi, but really now. Those twelve intergalactic sages – immortals, you know…”
“Twelve?” asked Federi thoughtfully.
“Can I get to my point please?” asked Paean, half in irritation.
© Lyz Russo, 2008-2013
btw the third instalment of “Fanta Claus” is ready, here: