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Rated: 13+ · Book · Action/Adventure · #1853220
A story about another world and how who the bad guy is won't always be one or the other.
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#748487 added March 7, 2012 at 3:29am
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Chapter 1 [second draft]
    “Have you ever heard of Amardom?” This was an odd question for him to ask. Laurence sat there, thinking about the possible repercussions of some of the answers he could give. He could be attempting to call him an idiot. Or there is also a good chance that his friend was going to go into some sort of existential quandary about existence and their place in the universe. Was there any good answer? Laurence thought about this for a moment, using the fact he was eating to excuse the pause. Then he wiped his mouth and looked up.


    “Yeah, of course I have.” Joey's eyes lit up a little at this. He looked almost excited. Laurence wondered again what this question would lead to. Joey began to straighten himself up and look around, as if someone would be listening. He was done with his food already, he always ate fast. He was in the mood for conversation. And this was a topic he was particularly looking forward to for some time. He figured that if anyone knew what he needed, it would be Laurence.


    “So, what do you know about 'er?” Joey inquired. Laurence chuckled. Yeah, this was going to be good. He could see right where this was going. It was a joke, buddy. A bad joke. Well, two could play at that game. Who said he had a monopoly on trying to be funny with bad puns and poorly placed insults. Sure, there's no reason he couldn't do it back. No reason to let this slide.


    “Well, she was born a few billion years ago and was really hot. Kind of cooled down and then life started to form. Than life grew into different organisms and finally we were here.” A very sarcastic “talking to a little kid” tone was just right for this, wasn't it? Yeah, it sounded good. The look on Joey's face showed that's not what he was expecting. Laurence got a little smile on his face and sat back, feeling rather full and waiting to finish his food. He looked around the little food joint. It was mostly empty, but a couple of people were still there. It was almost time to close, the lunch hour was over. A couple of families with kids had their little ones playing in the fun area, mostly on the swings. One of them pushed the other off. The yell almost covered up what Joey said to him.


    “No, about the terrorist!” The who? Oh, her. Joey had been watching the news lately, getting more and more involved ever since she came on. She was big news at first, but had died down since. She used the name Amardom, the same as the planet. No one knew why. Almost no one has ever seen her, all those that have gotten a good look at her have been killed. A couple of people have gotten side glances and saw her through bushes or when she was running away. They said she looked like a demon. Weird skin with different shades that made it look like molten rock, glowing red eyes that you can see in the dark just before or after one of her attacks.


    She left the name “Amardom” at every place that she hit. People thought at first she might be some kind of activist, fighting for the planet. But that didn't fit after the first two. She was only the second big terrorist that they knew or could talk about. But even so, soon her attacks died down and people stopped talking about the whole thing. It had been a couple of months now since her last attack and Laurence had nearly forgotten about the whole thing.


    “I wouldn't exactly call her a terrorist. A terrorist does things to cause terror, to in fact terrorize people to meet an end or cause chaos among a people. She didn't seem to be doing that.” Oh dear. This just got Joey more interested. He was leaning across the table, as if this was something he was straining to hear or something they needed to talk about in private. This was almost exactly what he wanted to hear. He wanted to know everything he could about this woman that most of the world considered a terrorist. She fascinated him. Laurence saw this when she first had a news report. From the first sight of this, he figured the whole thing would be unhealthy to Joey and now he needed to step lightly.


    “I don't know anything more than that. Alright? You and I saw the same news broadcasts. You probably saw more than I did. If anything, you would be able to tell me about her. But. Hey! Do you want my straws?” Laurence pushed the starchy side dish over to Joey and he absentmindedly took one. He loved straws and Laurence figured that if anything would cause a distraction, that would be it. But it didn't work. Joey ate one every now and then without even looking down at them. His eyes stayed fixed on Laurence and almost pleaded for more. He needed more.


    “Listen,we talked about this before. There's not much more I can do. I told you not to get caught up in that whole thing when this started and now I think I may just need to get you help. I mean, this woman is a criminal and kills anyone who even gets a look at her, do you think it a wise idea to try to dig into her life? If you ever did find out who she was and found her, I would then be the one having to try and solve your murder, and I don't think I would even try. I already promised I'd take care of you after you died, but I'm not going to go after her. She's too dangerous. But you know the main reason? The real reason why I'm not going to support this obsession of yours?” Joey had gotten tears in his eyes and had this puppy dog face. He looked so sad, but Laurence was stern and knew this was for his own good. Besides, the last job Joey got was by crying on cue. “Because I don't want to be the one to have to shovel your remains off of some cliff side drop where you've been dumped and left to splatter. I don't want to have to fight the seagulls over your corpse, especially since those things will probably win. Those things are huge, man. I'm not about to go against them over your stinking, rotting body.”


    Joey sat back and sighed. “I just want to find out about her. She's interesting.” Laurence nearly spazzed out. He figured this would end everything, but no, Joey still wasn't giving up. Little eye glances from Joey up to him made him sure, this was another ploy to try to get him to look into it. This was it! No more! There was no way he was going to look into this and he knew he had to find some way to get that through Joey's thick skull.


    “I'm not going to do it. Correct me if I'm wrong, if I actually found out something about her, you would try to find her. Am I wrong? I'm waiting!” Joey mouthed some words and bobbed his head back and forth, but nothing came out. That was all the answer Laurence needed. “So, if you want to die, if you want to go and get you and your best friend killed over trying to find some murderer you have a crush on, you can have someone else do it. Anyway, I've been eating here for the past two months, I need to keep my ledger open for real work.”


    Joey looked down, kind of guilty at the straws he'd been eating. He pushed them back across the table. It seemed like he was trying to form some words, but no sentences filled themselves out so he took a moment to complete the thought. As he did, he absentmindedly took another straw from the pack he had just pushed away. Finally he looked ready to speak. When he looked up, though, all the thought seemed to suddenly leak away. He started to reach for another straw, but caught himself. “I don't want to put you in any danger, but you're the only person I know of good enough to maybe get somewhere. And I don't plan on actually trying to find her. I'm just, well, let me find the right word. I'm curious about her.”


    “You're obsessed. That's the right word.” Laurence pushed the pack back. What he really wanted was a Tumor. He'd picked up the habit of smoking when he first started. Someone told him it would help pass the time and keep him awake. They didn't tell him that after a few jobs, he wouldn't be able to go an hour without craving one. He's been trying to kick the habit for some time. It's hard for him to get a good night's sleep anymore, he takes a nap whenever he can to make up for it. Between the artificial energy he gets when he lights up and the insomnia he gets from his cravings, though, it's an uphill battle. His brother is a recovering alcoholic and he didn't have this much trouble. “Listen, I've told you I'm not going to help you. No, actually, I am going to help you. And to do that, I'm not going to do this thing you ask. That's the end of the conversation.”


    “You didn't let me finish. I'm curious about her. There's something about the whole thing that I can't get out of my head. It's not just her but what she does and who she attacked.” Joey slid his hands into a pocket and pulled out his wallet. He dropped down fifty chasov. “That's just for lunch. I've been saving up for... A rainy day. I have more than that in diem at home. Even in my pockets. I can pay for this investigation more than it calls for. And throw in a risk bonus on top. If I had realized you were in this bad of money troubles, I probably would have given you some, but I can pay you for this job.”


    Laurence looked at the chasovs on the table. He had never known his friend to be rich. He had a rather good job, but he lived in a cheap apartment, ate cheap food, wore cheap clothes and did cheap things. Made sense that he would have money, then. He'd never thought about where it all went. Assumed that Joey spent it on frivolous things that he just didn't know about. It couldn't really be that much, could it? No, he had to be bluffing. He must only have less than a hundred diem at home. That's some good money, and hard to pass up. But Laurence would have to. To protect himself. And Joey. But that's a lot of money for someone eating at a lunch shop every day. “Well, the job will cost at least a Tage, maybe more. That's without extra expenses. Now I'm sure you can't swing that, so let's just drop,”


    “In advance or on delivery?” The matter-of-factness in Joey's voice took Laurence aback. He was willing to drop a Tage or more on this? He looked down at the straws he'd pushed away. He picked one up. It had been over cooked and had become dried up and hard. He put it in the corner of his mouth like a Tumor. This was too much. He could barely hold himself together or understand what exactly was going on. Was he really being asked to risk both their lives looking for some internationally wanted criminal while being paid an inexcusable amount of money by his best friend? There's no way that he could accept it, even for that. But it was tearing him up inside. He needed the money. There was no way he would make that much money before tax season was over.


    “In advance, once I tally up how much the assignment will cost on base, then on delivery of results I get expenses. If I don't get you results, you don't pay expenses. That's my standard contract. It will take me a while to draft it up, though. And there's no promise as to when I will have anything for you. Can you have me the money by tomorrow?” Joey sighed in both relief and victory. He nodded and looked at the straws. Laurence looked at him and flicked his wrist telling him it was alright to have the rest. He looked across the lunch shoppe. The few costumers that were left had gone and the workers looked ready to close up. “We should go. Come on.” They started to get up and grab their jackets to leave. Joey and Laurence both looked at the fifty chasov on the table then at the kids who were working there. This job probably did anything it could not to pay even minimum wage and they at least didn't spit in the food. So they left it there. Laurence put on his hat and they headed out.
© Copyright 2012 Walt J. Rimmer (UN: waltjrimmer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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