by Edward Zajac
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because his mother is dying,” said Fletcher. “And he needs to be with her.”
“Oh,” said Aurora, disappointment in her voice. “That’s too bad. I really liked him.”
“Yeah, well, these things happen,” said Fletcher. “Besides, you still got me.” There was silence over the comm. “Aurora?” There was no response. “Sweetie?”
“Sorry,” said Aurora, eventually. “I got distracted. What were we talking abo… Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh?” said Fletcher. “What do you mean, uh-oh?”
“Um, you might want to get back here. Devon is doing something strange again.”
Fletcher sighed. “What is it this time?”
“I think he’s trying to copulate with me.”
“You mean, he’s trying to enter the sphere?”
“No, he’s trying to copulate with the actual ship. He wants to create a human/ship hybrid using himself and…” There was a pause. “And now he’s stuck inside one of the data ports.”
“Oh, for sun’s sake,” said Fletcher, dragging his hand down his face. “I’ll be right there.”
ow, if you’ll scroll to section 48g, subsection c…”
Everyone around the conference table, both virtual and actual, did exactly that, save for one Lerandan who was simply too bored to care. Especially about this bureaucratic shleck.
He was supposed to be a tech, after all. That’s what it even said on his statement of work. A tech maintaining and servicing equipment as needed. But it said nothing about all the other administrative nonsense. The work orders. And the digiforms. And the meetings. Meeting after meeting where nothing was ever accomplished, just discussed over and over and over again.
It was frustrating as all shleck.
“Zag?” said Kerel, from accounting. “Zag?”
Zagarat looked up. Everyone was staring at him. “Yes?”
“How are you coming along with the T-190 forms?”
“Oh,” said Zagarat, suddenly realizing where he was, which was in the middle of a conference room. He glanced down at his datapad. “I should have them done by tomorrow.”
“That’s not good enough,” said Holuwala. “This isn’t just a flame. This is a full on fire that we have to extinguish now. I want them done yesterday.”
“Well, I don’t think that’s possible,” said Zagarat, smirking. “Unless, Deus finally created a time shifting device. Now, that would be stellar, wouldn’t it? Could you imagine if you could go back in time and correct all your mistakes, like wearing that jacket to work?”
Holuwala glanced down at his sports coat. Most sents couldn’t pull off a red tweed jacket with white horizontal stripes and puce vertical stripes. Holuwala was one of those sents.
Zagarat chuckled at his joke. No one else did.
The regional assistant manager sat back in his chair, placing his arms on the seat’s armrests in a slow and deliberate manner. “Everyone, give us the room please.”
As if sensing the gravity of the situation, half of the room immediately blinked out of existence while the rest quickly scuttled outside. Holuwala waited until Alaya closed the door behind her then pushed himself to his feet. Or paws in this case. He was a Tiglen, after all. He then began pacing the room, like a predator slowly stalking his prey.
“Do you like working here, Zagarat?” he said, his hands clasped behind his back which accentuated the muscles in his chest. “Because you can quit anytime you like. I can find twenty other techs who would be all too happy to take your place.”
“No, sir,” said Zagarat. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Holuwala leaned over the conference table, glaring at Zagarat as if about to pounce at a moment’s notice. “I hope you mean that. Because you haven’t been the same since you returned from vacation. I want the old Zagarat back. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said Zagarat, calmly. He glanced down at his own hands. To his amazement, they weren’t shaking. Holuwala normally scared the suns out of Zag. But not today. Hmm.
“Good,” said Holuwala, looking rather pleased with himself. “You may go.”
“Thank you, sir.” Zagarat pushed in his chair and made his way towards the door.
“By the way,” said Holuwala just as the door swished open. “Good job catching that accounting error. You saved the company nearly half a million credits.”
Zagarat chuckled to himself. A smarter sent might have handled the situation differently, but not Zag. He didn’t want to keep the credits. He just wanted to return to his old life. So, he transferred the funds back into the Deus account, making up the difference with the credits he had earned from helping Fletcher. Almost all the credits he had earned from helping Fletcher, which only seemed appropriate given his life to this point.
“Glad I could help, sir.”
“Well, get going,” said Holuwala. “Those T-190s aren’t going to finish themselves.”
“Yes, sir.” With a nod, he left.
Zagarat made his way to his cubicle in Dunin and Dragass, waving perfunctorily to Genna who was too busy playing Warrick Warrior to wave back.
He chuckled to himself. Suns, it was nice to be home again.
Zag continued towards his cubicle. Well, it wasn’t exactly nice. Comfortable seemed more appropriate. It was comfortable to be back in a familiar work environment, where everything was nice and predictable, and no one ever shot at you. Oh, they yelled plenty, but they never shot at you.
Unlike travelling with Fletcher Griff…
“Mr. Cole?” asked a squat Lerandan courier.
“Yes,” said Zagarat.
“A parcel for you, sir.” The courier produced a simple white package from behind his back and handed it to Zagarat. “Have a good day.”
“You too,” said Zagarat, squinting in confusion. He never received parcels at work. He placed the package on the console and removed the attached note.
TO ZAGARAT: THE GREATEST TECH IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE
LOVE: F AND A
Zagarat smiled. F and A. That sounded like something Fletcher would write.
He carefully opened the box and his mouth nearly hit the floor when he looked inside.
He’d seen prototypes for the Magi Ameiga 9400. But they were all theoretical sketches. But this PCD wasn’t theoretical. This was gold and gleaming and absolutely amazing.
He slipped the PCD on and the dashboard blinked into life. His eyes grew wide. This was a completely new OS. This was Sigmata, and that wasn’t supposed to come out for years.
Suns, this was really real.
The workday continued on as most workdays do: agonizingly slow. There were meetings and forms and meetings about forms. There were corporate fires that burned like supernovas and corporate fires that were doused before anyone was burned at all.
But none of that matter to Zagarat Cole. He had a PCD. A fabulous new PCD. He even gave her a name. After all, if Fletcher could name his pistol, then Zag could name his PCD.
Victoria. No, Vicki. He had Vicki.
And every so often, as he passed a plastiglass window, Zag would gaze out at the universe, beyond the ionosphere, stratosphere, and all the other spheres of Leranda Prime, and think of a sentient ship floating through the universe and of a privateer who was more than what he seemed (and he seemed to be a bumbling idiot). And he would smile.
First, I’d like to thank my parents and my brother for their endless love and support. I consider myself truly blessed each and every day. Dzięki.
I’d like to thank my agent, Mark Gottlieb, for his tireless work on my behalf. Every writer should be so lucky.
This book would not be possible if not for the amazing crew at Curiosity Quills. Thank you to Lisa Gus and Eugene Tiplitsky for taking a chance on an unpublished, neurotic writer. Thanks to Christina Ferko, who had the unenviable job of editing my manuscript. Thanks also to Andrew Buckley, VP of Operations, Nikki Tetreault, Director of Marketing and PR, Clare Dugmore, Social Media Mana
ger, and all the members of Team Curiosity for all your hard work behind the scenes.
Every writer has a teacher or author who influences them in a profound way and I am no different. I’d like to thank Mrs. Sandy Nagle, my high school English teacher, whose infectious love of Literature impelled a shy, awkward teen to become a shy, awkward writer. And for that, this shy, awkward adult says thank you. My gratitude also to the late Sir Terry Pratchett, the first and only writer to literally make me laugh out loud while reading a book. For that, he will always have a special place in my heart.
Thanks to Ed, Marek, Dave, and Suzanne for the many laughs together. Friends like you are rare indeed. A special note to my alpha readers, Suzanne and Heidi. No one should be submitted to that sort of literary torture and for that I apologize. Thanks also to Mike and Heidi for your kindness and encouragement throughout this whole process. I am honored to call you family. Also, a special thank you to the Darien Writers Group. Your warmth and insight makes me a better writer with every session.
And finally, a thank you to you, the reader. As a consumer, I know you have your choice of literary authors and so I’d like to thank you for choosing to read Zajac ProseLines. This book should last about three hundred pages. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy this inaugural flight of fancy. Thank you. Buh-bye.
Edward Zajac was born in Connecticut. After some encouragement from his high school English teacher, he began writing novels. Bad novels. Horrible novels. Novels that were kicked out of the bottom drawer of his desk because the dirt inside refused to share accommodations with such dross. In fact, beta readers wanted to add those novels to the Geneva Convention as examples of excessive torture. But his writing muscles strengthened with every misstep and he can now stand all on his own. When not writing, he enjoys reading, playing role playing games, board games, video games, and devouring anything written by Terry Pratchett.
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Stiltskin, by Andrew Buckley
(http://bit.ly/Q5XI1G)
What would you do if you found an evil dwarf in your bathtub?
In Robert Darkly’s case, the discovery propels him across a parallel world on the other side of our own reality; a world where fairy tales are real but not in the way we’ve come to expect them.
The evil dwarf Rumpelstiltskin, convicted of murder, has escaped from his tower prison on a sinister plot to finish what he started so many years ago. Robert Darkly must partner with the mysterious ‘Agency’ to pursue Rumpelstiltskin across our world and the world of Thiside to uncover the treacherous secret that threatens to throw both realities into eternal chaos.
Please Don’t Tell my Parents I’m a Supervillain, by Richard Roberts
(http://bit.ly/1hm3sML)
Penelope Akk wants to be a superhero. She’s got superhero parents. She’s got the ultimate mad science power, filling her life with crazy gadgets even she doesn’t understand. She has two super-powered best friends. In middle school, the line between good and evil looks clear.
In real life, nothing is that clear. All it takes is one hero’s sidekick picking a fight, and Penny and her friends are labeled supervillains. In the process, Penny learns a hard lesson about villainy: She’s good at it.
The Kulture Vultures by William Vitka & Bill Vitka
(http://j.mp/1f4bGIB)
The Combine rules over entire planetary systems with an iron fist, maintaining a monopoly over hearts and minds everywhere with their terrible sitcoms.
Just so happens that the best pirated culture comes from Earth. The human monkeys might not be smart, but damn if they aren’t entertaining.
Earth’s biggest fan, a lowly intergalactic cab driver named Zel, joins a few not-so-loyal companions in a race to prevent humanity’s extinction—by resurrecting Earth’s great pulp writers and scientists. The only ones with enough creative craziness to figure out how to stop the Combine.
Spill: Take That, Big Oil! by Randy Attwood
(http://bit.ly/1C1fAyg)
Spill: Take That, Big Oil! by Randy Attwood
Fired English teachers scams the political system, gets the girl, the money and a killer skateboarder video game. Big Oil + Sex = Game On
SPILL is a thrill, cover to cover. Two down-but-not-out folk from the bottom of the bottom half-percent hatch a plan to outwit the political system, knock Big Oil and the establishment into a cocked hat, and get rich in the process. A wide-awake tour through the world of politics, newspapering, government and video gaming. A hilarious pursuit of what just could happen when a renegade decides to take the system for a joy ride.
The Accidental Superheroine, by J.R. Rain & Kris Carey
(http://bit.ly/1SFue3H)
When newly-coined physicist Mira Verborgen sprung for a cushy internship at CERN, she did not expect to end up working side by side with sensitive European hottie, Giancarlo Colombo, or the sudden-onset case of butterflies whenever he’s around.
Nor did she expect the two of them to end up the inadvertent subjects of a megalomaniac Russian scientist’s deadly energy experiment. Instead of their budding relationship being cut short along with their material existence, the pair develops a startling mutation. A mutation that puts them in the crosshairs of Swiss, French, and American governments - not to mention the dastardly Dr. Gavrilov.
With CERN held hostage by Gavrilov and his rapidly-evolving superpowers, do Mira and Giancarlo have what it takes to own their mutation and protect the free world, before it’s too late?
Otto Von Trapezoid and The Empress of Thieves, by Jesse Baruffi
(http://bit.ly/1FvKVsj)
Otto Von Trapezoid is a mad scientist who rules an army of robots from his orbital space station. Angry and grumpy, he sees no value in humanity except becoming their ruler. Esmerelda Santa Monica is the stylish self-proclaimed “Empress of Thieves,” who values her own legend and the thrill of the theft over actual wealth. Both live lonely lives, the desire to become the greatest villains of all time primarily on their minds
When the two meet in simultaneous attempts to blackmail the UN, their instincts are to attempt to kill one another, but soon they discover a mutual attraction that neither thought possible. Once they begin to pool their resources, the pair seems on track to become the most successful evil-doers of all time and set out to conquer the world itself. But what happens when their villainous natures emerge, and both realize there can only be one absolute ruler of Earth? Can either be satisfied with being second to another?
To make matters worse, they must deal with the protestations of Otto’s sidekick robot SCRAP, the meddling of their fellow villains, their families, and worst of all, heroic superspy Jake Indestructible is determined to bring them both down, once and for all.
Appetizer:
Book Cover
Title Page
Quote
Main Course:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Epilogue
Dessert:
Acknowledgements
Closing
About the Author
Copyright & Publisher
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