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Omnitrex Tech part 9

kelson.philo's picture

Part 9
Link to part 1

Through the hole in the casino wall went the Detective, followed by Paul and four officers. The detective flashed her spectacles at the building’s superintendent and the group of six were ushered into a quite backroom. Several minutes later, the Detective and five officers were seen leaving through the front door of the closed casino by several hundred people. The Detective was the tip of a flying wedge of law enforcement, and the people gave that wedge wide berth. It didn’t pay to interrupt police affairs, they were not a negotiable feed item and never were very good with public interviews…..

That didn’t stop people from shouting questions to her Honor though. Which was unfortunate as anyone who received a gaze from the Detective after bringing attention to themselves received a ping on their trex, letting them know that they would need to show up to the nearest precinct immediately to have a statement taken, a process that would take all day and that, therefore, was a day’s wages down the drain. Still, Noobs are Noobs and always will be.

The flying wedge was soon cutting through waters with less and less resistance, as the streams of humanity thinned out. Most folk would be at work by now, and the newness of the incident would wear off as more and more citizens remembered that their employers’ late policies would be catching up with them shortly. Soon they would be away from enough people for the engagement of the Detective’s plan, which Paul took a moment to review.

He was in the back room of the casino, an in elegant room with a table and chairs and a low hanging light. What on earth it could be used for was beyond him, it certainly didn’t have the flashy punch and grind of the main room with its projected games and widgets, bells, whistles strobes of every kind. This room was ominous. It smelled of sweat and the air didn’t move right. How many other businesses had rooms such as this one?

His hearing was starting to make a comeback for real. He could hear the bells and whistles as if they were covered in thick foam bedding and miles away. He could also hear the piercing lilt of the Detective’s voice as she spoke words to her trex. It was probably a pretty voice when it wasn’t filled with the atonal chords of duty. It made Paul think of another dream he had once had, wherein a strange deviation had sprouted itself in the spongiform of the Expanse It was a strange little thing, a six inch long tube of green at the top of which was an odd gathering of the softest yellow material Paul had ever felt in his life. Could you feel things in dreams? He didn’t know for sure but before this dream, the softest thing he had ever felt was his newborn nephew’s cheek when his mother’s sister had been let out of the maternity ward. It was the softness that had given the object away as a dream. Nothing in his world was this soft. He wouldn’t even know haw to tell a trex to make silks in such a fashion, even if he could afford to.

And he’s standing over this wondrous little thing, when it begins to vibrate. And then it’s bouncing up and down in a little cadence and Paul realizes that the vibrations and the bouncing are being caused by a disturbance on the horizon and that disturbance is his fellow humans, all rushing in on the Expanse, coming to work and they will soon be upon him, they will soon trample this treasure and he must do something but he doesn’t know what and finally he decides to pluck this wondrous little thing from the ground and he tires and tries again and it pulls up plastiform and spongiform with it and the people are charging closer, they’ve seen that Paul has found a treasure and they want it for themselves and Paul keeps tugging, extending spongiform like it’s taffy and he won’t give up and finally it’s free and the flooring snaps back--too hard though, it has been pulled past it’s elastic limit and a hole has been opened up in the floor of the Expanse and it is growing wider exponentially and soon the world is falling into the hole, at the bottom of which is nothing.

In the moment that Paul is reflecting on how the Detective’s voice is like that flower he almost misses reading the Plan as it unfolds. They’re going to trex a very temporary police uniform over his coveralls and proceed out the front of the casino in a flying wedge formation, running a crooked course through the city and, upon her Honor’s signal, one by one they will break off from the group and go separate ways. Eventually there would be only the Detective and Paul left, and then they too would disperse and presumably, Paul would head on to work. “We’ll see about that,” Paul thought.

Now the law-wedge was starting to evaporate, the two trailing officers having split off and found other routes. Another few yards and the next two officers would do the same and he would once again be alone with the Detective, though they were not, according to plan, to make eye contact with each other. He was supposed to merely veer off to the right and find some quiet place to allow his clothes to evaporate in private so as not to bring attention to himself. Re-integration with society was the key here, the Detective mentioned several times in that back room.

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