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Rated: E · Sample · Sci-fi · #2024723
A book thief in a time when books are highly valuable. What could go wrong?



Sci-fi Sample #1


Breaking the still silence a shot rang out. Propelled by the blast the hook, guided by the wind, landed behind a statue and promptly wrapped itself around it. The rope attached to it changed from dark brown to a green pattern, dotting down the middle as the material's feel changed, making it easier to grip. "Okay, Gigit," a man whispered to himself, "You're sure that it won't burn my hands this time?"


From inside of his ear a robotic voice responded, "Absolutely sure. Although, if my calculations were slightly off their marks, do promise not to hold me accountable."


The man put his hands around the neon, pulsating rope and gave it two tugs. With a shrug he let out a hushed, but shrill whistle from his two front teeth. Behind him a short creature, shrouded in the night, hurriedly trotted to him and then lept onto his shoulders.


"Oh, surely not. If I have any qualms I'll be sure to take them out on Steinbeck."


Just before the man began climbing he took out his earpiece for, of course, his comment would be followed by an over abundance of robotic sounds that, as a whole, were nothing but a mix of gibberish and swears. "You take that back!" it managed to say after some time.


The man put his feet against the smooth, metalic surface. To which the bottoms of his boots opened to reveal miniature spikes that dug into the metal. Steadily, he began ascending the tall building, grunting every now and then. "I've nothing to take back yet, friend. Seriously though, I'll never understand how you can enjoy that crap."


"'Crap'? 'Crap'?! I'll tell you what's crap, friend."


"Oh yeah? And what's that?"


"Dickonson."


"Oh, don't even..."


"Going on and on about a damned hat."


"At least Dickonson didn't need to beat his readers over with the theme until they bled. He actually let the characters..."


"Get screwed over and over again for no reasons other than the readers' twisted enjoyment."


"Oh, so Lenny's death totally had purpose, right? He didn't have to kill him. He could've just..."


"Just gone to another place with that crazy murderer?"


"I don't know if you were paying attention or not when I read it to you, but... He DID go to another place with that murderer. Do you not remember the first woman he killed?"


"Still an award winning author."


"Yeah, compared to the drivel running against him it really wasn't a contest."


"You son of a..."


The man chuckled lightly, his half smile almost as bright as the moon above. "Take it easy, Gigit. We'll finish this when I head back." With one last heave he pulled himself onto the top of the building and stretched out his arms. The creature that had been on his shoulders jumped down and sat beside him. The man reached down and patted his companion on the head. "Good boy, Left. You're starting to get a hang of this."


He set down the large bag that was slung over his right shoulder and sighed. "Lookie here, Left," he said, looking downward, at the floor. "Looks like they've finally upgraded that old ditanium cover and went with the pearlian zyto-cide instead." The creature sniffed it with his long muzzle and nibbled on the flooring. "I think we're going to need something a little bit stronger than that, Lefty." He pulled out from his bag a small, can looking device. It appeared to be made of a dark silver, outlined by cracks all around it that illuminated a bright green color. On its bottom was a large, red button. Just before pressing it he said, "Oh, if I blow up do be sure to tell Tizz." The creature nodded and hopped out of the way. "Here goes nothing." Click.


From above he fell, crashing onto the top of a bookshelf. He sat up, shaking and brushing off the rubble that had acumulated on him and then looked around. Still no guards? He wondered as he looked about the empty place. I swear they'll never learn... and besides that... Where's the fun? The challenge? C'mon, guys give me something. He whistled and a fox came down, landing on his shoulders. "Alright, boy. You know what we're lookin for. Search." Immediately the fox jumped from the top of the shelf and ran the grounds, a red light shinning through his eyes as he went from shelf to shelf.


"Okay," the man whispered as he pulled out a scrap of paper, "Left is going to get, so I'm going to get... Okay, so where are the H's?" He looked to the right and then the left. "Now, if I recall correctly... Ah!" Maintaining a crouch the man swiftly lept from one shelf to the other, barely causing the woden structures to move as he went about them. Finally finding himself at the shelf he desired he hung the front half of himself over the side, his long hair nearly touching the ground. "H, H, H. Ah! Homer! Here we are," he said as he pulled out a dusty old book with a green cover. Despite its appearance, the pages inside were golden and a number five was proudly printed on its side of the same color. "Perfect. Fifth edition."


Just before he pulled himself up his face was met with a cold, wet sensation. He turned to see that it was his fox, jabbing him with his nose, a book in his mouth. "Atta boy, Left!" the man said as he pulled his sack down, the fox putting it in as soon as it hit the ground. He then bounced onto the man's chest and then onto his leg. "Alright, let's get goin."


"Not so fast, Nik," sounded a low, booming voice. Before the man knew where to look his upper torso and legs were binded by metal rods. The sack fell to the ground, but luckily Left had scurried away into safety.


"Well," started Nik, "Speak of the devil and the devil shall come to thee as they say."


"Oh please," the man replied lightly, "the devil is far more hospitable than I."


It's hard to believe that this one day would be me. The one and only Nikito Gonzalez. Greatest book thief in all the Western Partially United.




© Copyright 2015 Steven Jackson (stevenljackson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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