Generation Next The Real Thing

by Shane Griffin

Generation Next The Real Thing

  By

  Shane Griffin

  Smash Words Edition Published by Poupichou Press

  First Published in Print in Potato Monkey 2000

  Copyright Shane Griffin 2000

  Gundar stepped into the cubical, which was little more than a shower with heating elements imbedded in its walls. He had been on earth for almost two years now and he still wasn’t used to its cold climate. He turned on the shower tap and pointed the stream of steaming water onto the base of his skull.

  As the scalding water ran down his green-brown leathery skin he let out a type of clicking-gurgling noise. It was a sound that his species made when they were winding down, content or happy.

  Gundar was winding down. He’d just finished a hectic evening entertaining his friends with a dinner party. Some of them were human so he’d had to turn down the heating in his house to accommodate them.

  After about five minutes of drowning himself under the stream of water, he stepped out of the cubical and into a heated jump-suit. Despite the fact that he loved spending time in the cubical he could not afford to run it for too long, his electricity bill was already hell. He certainly didn’t want to attract the wrong sort of attention by not being able to pay the bills, not in his line of work.

  Gundar walked to the kitchen to clean up the leftovers from the party. He still felt cold, even in the grip of the suit. He checked the temperature sensor on the kitchen wall, it read 32 degrees Celsius. He cursed under his breath in the old language, it would take another good hour before his house was back to a bearable 48 degrees. Even then he wished it were higher.

  Despite missing the hot humid climate of his home world, with its wonderful acid rain and sulfurous air, he enjoyed the lifestyle on earth. On the outside it was a most quaint, interesting planet, yet underneath more ruthless and deadly than any other in the known galaxy. He enjoyed the culture so much that he felt some sorrow about what would eventually become of it and its people.

  When he had finished cleaning up, Gundar stretched his muscles and headed for his bedroom. There he eased himself down onto his sleeping rock with a sigh. The smooth hard contours of the rock surface seemed to draw all the aches and pains from his body. The rock upon which he slept was huge. It had cost him a fortune to have it brought from his home world, but it was worth it. Earth rocks were just not the same, it was his one luxury and the one demand he made of his employers before he accepted the earth assignment. He wriggled about for just a few moments before falling into a deep sleep.

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  A high pitched screeching noise drew Gundar from his slumber. With eyes still shut he rolled over and turned off the alarm clock. Reluctantly, he slithered from his sleeping rock. As he stood, he stretched and yawned out of the blow hole orifices at the back of his neck.

  Somewhat irritable, and still tired from the night before, Gundar went through his morning routine. He dressed quickly and forced down a bowl of jeelok worms with warm cow's milk. Narlok milk was as rare as chikaks teeth on earth and about as expensive, it was also toxic to humans. After washing it all down with a glass of hot acidified water, he made his way to work.

  Gundar owned a drinking establishment called The Black Hole. His bar was rapidly becoming the most popular watering hole not only at the international spaceport in Cape York, but the whole continent. Why? It wasn’t the atmosphere, the music or the naked dancers; every club had these. The Black Hole was popular because of the drinks. It was the only outlet in the southern hemisphere that sold Lik lik, a non-alcoholic concoction from his home planet.

  As far as the humans were concerned, it was his own secret formula. What they did not know was that it was also highly addictive and that when all of the planet was drinking lik lik his employers would begin to lace it with neural lock drugs that would stop free thought. The humans would become the next slave planet to his home world without even knowing. All he had to do was break into the market and start to franchise. Free trade was such a wonderful thing, it saved many lives in silly wars.

  Gundar rounded a corner and entered the alleyway where the service entrance to the club was located. His staff were already milling around waiting to get in. He gurgled quietly to himself as he approached, humans were so dangerous yet so gullible sometimes.

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