Nano Writing Month, 2017.14

[mc776]

Every day, write some bit of fiction. Preferably over 50 words, but there will be no standard beyond "something". Posting is entirely optional.

She turned the empty bottle around in her hands. She got up and paced back and forth on the roof ledge, then made a move to hurl the cursed thing onto the concrete five storeys below. Then she went over to the waterlogged blue bin and placed it gently on its side in the bin, dead centre. It was the only object in it.

She grabbed a handful of coffee beans they'd scrounged from an abandoned shop inside and started chewing, then flopped onto the couch with all the metal bits sticking out of it.

"Good morning", said the couch.

She grunted.

"I shouldn't say it."

"It would make no difference."

"You are worthy and capable of salvation."

"It is what it is."

"You are free." Pause. "Dare I remind you: freer than you have been in a long time."

She grunted.

"It was a whole three weeks. Well, two and a half, almost. Should call for at least a Coffee Crisp if not anything particularly cake-like."

"I am too hung over to dignify that with a response."

It was the first real break they had. They had discovered a wholly abandoned block that the nudibranchs never bothered to check. When the noodles occupied a city, they would place their garrisons and patrols according to very specific patterns the significance of which only they understood, and which frequently left large and predictable holes in their defences. They didn't last long, certainly not long enough for any refugees or opposing forces to get established there; but they were just long enough for the occasional passerby to rest without being in war mode. Perfect place for a weary traveller to camp for a bit, relax, sort out their priorities, have a drink... or two...

She imagined herself springing to her feet, running over to the blue bin, taking the bottle out and heaving it onto the sidewalk below with the loudest "Fuck you!" she could manage as it shattered into a hojillion little toxic pieces. In reality she did not move.

"I had so much shit to catch up on, Zombag. Letters to write. Things to invent. Fuck, we could've actually figured out which way was north again so we'd stop moving in fucking circles..."

"North is still mountainwards, Cristina. We haven't gotten that far yet. We've just been going in circles to avoid the patrol droids, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Well, fuck. I could've spent that whole night mapping them out... all wasted on this bullsh--"

"Shut up."

"Wha--Oof!" The couch had suddenly deflated, knocking her against some pokey metal bit. She lurched up off the couch.

"Do it now. I found a backup generator and plugged in the biotic scanner while you were passed out. Check 'USE UR NOODLE YA DUM BITCH.ods' in the download folder of your phone."

"But... well that's not very friendly language..."

"My original intent had been to pass it off as something you had written for yourself while you were drunk."

Pause. "Oh." Another pause. She started looking for the nano-USB cable to plug her phone into the clunky, bargain-bin black-market biotic scanner. It was obvious to all present that her movements were intended to fill in this time rather than actually do or say anything. Another pause. "Thank you, Zombag."

It turned out they had another two days here if they wanted. At this rate it might be less than a week before they made it to the Terran-occupied starport in Abbotsford. Maybe her training could be put to use at last...

...

"See? Exactly as I planned. Your pathetic conservatism profits nothing in this day and age! Watch them flee into the heavens in terror at our might! Nay, not might, cunning, my friend! Courage! Audacity! Boldness! Bravery is what wins the lion's share!" He could almost hear his captor follow that up with an explanation that lions are brave, don't you know.

He could point out that the storm had also passed and that the bounty hunters were now free to use their main ship guns to wipe out their entire (idiotic, mind-controlled, flightless) mutant alien army from orbit - well, maybe not the ones in the deepest tunnels, but that didn't matter. He could point out that they had no idea if the Ellobius was allied with any other nearby mercenary forces, or might have been in a position even to recruit the nudibranch marauder that had passed by the sector earlier. He could have pointed out that the bounty hunters were clearly under the leadership of the sort who enjoyed target-rich environments and the illusion of a cheap and bloody victory might have been the only thing keeping them from making the strategic retreat they had just made now.

He could point out that at least one of the extra loaves of bread in the Phlogistroni bridge fridge looked like it might have had a spot of mould on it.

But no matter. Let little Billy have his fun; it would soon be over.

He'd found a backdoor to the ship AI.