Busted Flush

He gave it no thought. What he thought was, There, Meadows, you simpering hippie fuck. That’s what I think of your peace-and-love horse shit.

“This is all for you, man,” he said aloud. “All for you.

“I hope you fucking like it.”

“Why are we here?” Chen asked. He clutched his heavy camera to his chest like a teddy bear.

“No idea.”

Hei-lian glanced around the helipad next to the palace. A crowd had gathered. Wide-eyed, Sprout stuck close to her. She had panicked when Leopard Men came to escort them brusquely here.

So had Hei-lian, almost.

“Look,” Hong said. “It’s Nshombo. And his sister.”

“Are they going to shoot us?” Chen asked in Mandarin.

“I don’t think they’d have had you bring your gear,” Hei-lian said. “Since they did, you’d best start shooting. Something’s going on.”

“Hei-lian?” Sprout asked in a small voice.

Quick headshake. “No idea, honey,” she said. “Just stay close.”

She saw the young healer-ace, Dolores. She stood between Nshombo and Alicia, dressed in gleaming white. Her face shone as if with inner radiance.

Someone shouted. Pointed to the sky. Everyone looked up.

A hundred voices gasped. A pale-skinned, golden-haired man floated above their heads. He raised a fist.

“Vive la Révolution!” shouted Tom Weathers. “Vive Dr. Kitengi Nshombo!”

“Long live Mokèlé-mbèmbé,” roared a claque of Leopard Men.

To mad cheering, Tom descended from the sky. Palace guards in powder-blue uniforms held the mob at bay as he swapped handshakes with Nshombo and an embrace with his sister.

Sprout hit him at a run. He laughed and kissed away her tears.

He turned to give Hei-lian a big grin as she approached. She was too stunned to talk for the benefit of the microphone she’d clipped to her shirt collar moments before.

“Sorry to scare you like that,” he said. “But we had to keep things secret. We wanted to spring a little surprise on the imperialists.”

She flung arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Then she stepped back.

“Why are you still alive?”

Dolores was suddenly by his side. Still holding Sprout in one arm he slipped the other around the Congolese girl.

“She healed me,” he said. “She’s the real heroine.”

He turned and kissed her on the forehead as camera flashes flickered.

Hei-lian wondered why she felt so hollow.

Double Helix

UNTIL THE DAYBREAK, AND

THE SHADOWS FLEE AWAY

Melinda M. Snodgrass

SHADOWS ARE STRETCHING AND dancing on the plaster walls of the old cottage as Niobe clears the battered table. The air is redolent with the smell of beef stew. After delivering them here I teleported to Kirkwall for supplies.

We’re using oil lanterns for light, saving the generator to heat water for baths. Drake’s face is rosy from the heat of the fire and a large meal. He is nodding, then suddenly jerking back awake. Niobe ruffles his hair.

“Go to bed, kiddo.”

“Can I have some more pudding?”

She smiles indulgently. The soft golden light and the shadows hide the worst of her acne. Drake spoons more chocolate pudding into his bowl and shuffles out. A few moments later I hear the springs on the old bed-stead creak.

“Why here?” she asks me as she starts to wash the dishes. I fill the chipped glass with more wine.

“Because there are seventy islands in the Orkneys and only seventeen of them are inhabited. If he loses control nothing but gulls and rabbits will die.”

“He won’t.”

“I want to be damn sure of that.”

“How did you know about this place?”

“My mother took a month one summer to look for Roman influence in the Orkneys. We crawled all over the islands, and found this abandoned farm.”

The smile is back. It’s very warm and genuine. “But no Romans.” “No Romans.”

The hot water won’t last long, so I stand in the chipped and stained clawfooted tub, hand resting against the wall, and let the water sluice through my hair and down my back. The tightness is back in my chest, as if I’m filled with tears fighting to escape. It’s just because I’m so tired. That’s all it is. I should head to London. Report. Wait for dawn and check on Siraj.

The water is starting to cool. I soap up and rinse. The handles squeak as I spin them to turn off the water. The rings on the cheap plastic shower curtain rattle like chattering teeth on the rail as I pull it back. Suddenly the door to the bathroom flies open and Niobe and Drake rush in. She has one hand between his shoulders. The other is pressed against his forehead. He has a pudgy hand clasped desperately over his mouth.

I’m naked, and acutely aware of my deformed genitalia. She looks at me and her eyes widen. Once again rage is coursing along every nerve. I lunge forward and grab the frayed towel.