Pew! Pew! - Bad versus Worse

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Pew! Pew! - Bad versus Worse Page 41

by M. D. Cooper


  “Hey!” he shouted up through the crowd. “Walk left, stand right! Haven’t you ever ridden an escalator before?” As he expected, the people simply ignored him.

  Frank twitched nervously. The crowd was moving too slowly. He felt himself sweat. He clanked his teeth together.

  “You got somewhere to be?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, and soon!”

  “Well calm down. You’ll get there eventually.”

  Frank could not take it anymore. If he waited any longer, he would die in the explosion.

  Without wasting another second, Frank got down on all fours and crawled his way through peoples’ legs. It wasn’t the most glamourous way to get around, but it did the trick. Before he knew it, he was on the escalator. He got up on the moving steps and looked around. People stood still around him.

  This was still too slow. Frank could not take it anymore. He climbed over the railing and slid down the side, ignoring the stairs altogether.

  Frank’s slide idea did the trick. He passed by everyone. In a matter of seconds, he reached the bottom and hopped off the railing. A sign hung from the ceiling before him:

  Construction Site Ahead – Proceed Slowly

  “Goddammit!” he shouted.

  Frank pressed on, ignoring the sign. Half of the hallway before him was roped off. The hall was now a third the width it usually was. People were funneled into the narrow portion like a school of fish.

  Time was running out. Frank ducked under the ropes and dashed through the construction site. Wet paint covered his boots, but he did not care. He ignored it and kept running.

  When he finally reached the end of the construction, he ducked under the ropes again and continued along his way to the hangar. It was not far now. Just one more turn and…

  Frank stopped. He came face to face with the hangar entrance. The door was closed shut. A sign stood before the door:

  Hangar Bay Closed for Remodeling

  Please Use Hangar Bay in Sector 18 Instead

  We Apologize for the Inconvenience

  “No!” he cried out. He stomped, he jumped, he swung his arms wildly. This was it. There was nowhere else to go in time.

  Frank nervously checked his watch and froze as he read the time.

  In that instant, all sound faded away as the walls ripped apart around him. An intense cold covered his body. Air escaped from his lungs. His body expanded and expanded.

  And then he died in the vacuum of space.

  And just like that, the greatest Empire in the galaxy was defeated.

  Talk about an abrupt ending.

  THE END

  — — —

  Want to read more by Andrew Gates?

  The Color of Water and Sky

  It has been 200 years since the surface of the Earth has been destroyed and humanity retreated to the bottom of the ocean...

  Year 200, Atlantic Federation Calendar. The surface of the Earth has been destroyed. Humanity now lives beneath the ocean. Life is peaceful in this artificial world, but questions are raised when an experimental submarine is attacked during a routine test mission. There are no leads. For the first time in generations, humanity will have to confront what may lurk above the surface.

  Download Chapters for Free:

  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/726565

  Download Book One:

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01LZA9CSN

  About the Author

  Andrew Gates was born and raised in Wilmington, Delaware. He now resides in northern Virginia, but frequently revisits his hometown.

  Andrew has enjoyed writing since high school but did not start writing seriously until college. He enjoys writing anything from short stories to full-length novels. His favorite book is The Lord of the Rings.

  When he is not writing, Andrew is also an avid runner. He works for a local Virginia-based running company and participates in a variety of races from 5Ks to Marathons.

  He hopes to one day share his love of running with his future dog, yet to be named.

  Connect with Andrew Gates

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thecolorofwaterandsky/

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/TCOWAS

  Website: https://thecolorofwaterandsky.wordpress.com/

  STAR ACADEMY 3013: What are Sex Robots Made Of?

  by Christopher J. Valin

  Star Academy concept by Chris Whigham, Eugene Ramos, and DG McMurry

  The best and the brightest from across the Galaxy attend the Star Academy… and so do these guys.

  When Johnnie Jacobson was sent by his admiral dad to Forcus Three to start his training to be an officer in the fleet of the Galactic Alliance of Planets for a Better Tomorrow, he knew he’d miserable. But the alternative was going to prison.

  Johnnie arrived knowing he could push boundaries because he was The Admiral’s son, but being who he was, he took things too far—way to far. Luckily, he had a good friend who didn’t want to abandon him, and some new acquaintences who decided they’d rather risk getting into trouble by helping him escape than let the Academy’s jackass commandant get the satisfaction of sending him away. And then there was this sex robot...who, it turns out, was way more than she appeared to be.

  Little did they know their plan would lead them to mayhem on a galactic scale.

  Chapter One

  “The stars…the last unexplored territory…”

  No, that wasn’t quite right. Cadet Johnnie Jacobson paused and stared out the small porthole at the majestic field of stars framed by the black void of space. From his current angle lying on the bed, he could see two small moons just barely peeking into view.

  The porthole wasn’t the only thing breaking up the stark gray of the dorm room walls. The plaques and awards that hung everywhere were almost as numerous as the trophies and medals lining the shelves. The handsome young cadet smiled to himself as he thought of something better.

  “Space. The last…undiscovered country…”

  “What are you doing?” The voice belonged to the gorgeous female alien lying naked next to him. Her emerald skin still glistened with sweat from the romp they’d finished only a few minutes earlier. The tiny horns on her forehead seemed to converge somewhat as she gave him a confused look.

  “I’m trying to figure out how to start my personal journal.” He turned onto his side to face the horny—er, horned female. “Someday they’re going to be publishing my memoirs, so I figure I better start recording everything now.”

  Xanthia—wait, was that her name? Yeah, he was pretty sure that was her name. No, Xanethia. Right. Xanethia ran a finger over his bare chest and licked her plump lips. “How exciting.”

  Johnnie turned onto his back again and ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. He smiled his lopsided grin as he interlaced his fingers behind his head. “Yeah. It really is, isn’t it?”

  Xanethia—no, wait, it was Xanthia—Xanthia grinned back and moved in for a kiss.

  Johnnie interrupted her. “Hey, I think I’ve got it. The final fron—”

  He stopped midsentence as the dorm room doors slid open and a gargantuan alien stood in the doorway, snarling. In many respects, the green-skinned senior cadet resembled Johnnie’s bedmate. Except that he was seven feet tall, with a shaved head and giant horns. “What…in the nine hells…are you doing in my room?” He looked to the female next to Johnnie. “With my sister?”

  Xanthia covered her nude form as Johnnie jumped out of bed and started pulling on a uniform. But it turned out to be the wrong uniform. It was the one-piece tunic-skirt belonging to Xanthia, to be precise.

  He decided to try a distraction. “Nine? Really? Isn’t that a little excessive? You’d think one would be enough. Maybe a backup or whatever. But nine?”

  “Don’t worry...” The alien bared his sharp teeth, another slight difference from his sibling. “I’m going to send you to all of them so you can see for yourself.”

  “Oh, was that the bell to go to class already? Better hurry!
” Johnnie hopped back onto the bed as the menacing senior cadet barreled toward him. He bounced over the girl and jumped off the bed, using it like a trampoline to propel himself toward the door. “Can’t be late for class!”

  He headed out the open door as the alien crashed into his own bookshelf, knocking trophies and awards off onto his own head and the floor.

  In the Academy corridor outside, Johnnie rushed past other cadets, human and alien alike. There were species of all sizes, shapes, and colors crowding the halls and trying to get to class, basically creating an obstacle course for him. The senior cadet had recovered and was gaining on him quickly…one of the medals had been for track after all. Plus, Johnnie was having a lot of trouble running in the mini-skirted tunic, which was much too small for him and kept creeping up and giving people a clear view of his nether regions.

  It would have been nice if he’d thought to grab his underpants.

  He tried knocking things over and throwing things behind him to slow down the alien, but his pursuer was also excellent at hurdles. He’d be on him in a few seconds, barring some kind of miracle. Johnnie could think of numerous times in the past when he’d been chased by brothers, dads, uncles, boyfriends—the occasional husband—but he couldn’t remember ever having someone so big, so fast, or so dangerous after him because of a girl.

  Johnnie spotted the cafeteria and hoped that he could figure out a way to lose his giant pursuer in there. He was used to thinking on the fly, so even though he didn’t have a particular plan in mind yet, he was pretty confident something would come to him once he was in there.

  He ran past the dish dispenser and tried tossing a few dinner plates, but the alien dodged every one of them except the last one, which he managed to catch with one hand and hurl back at Johnnie like a discus. It almost took off his head, but Johnnie swerved and it shattered against the wall next to him.

  Cadets jumped out of Johnnie’s way as he ran through the food line, where he overturned most of the containers of breakfast food behind him to make it more difficult to run. The senior had particular trouble with the oatmeal, and nearly cracked his head on a nearby counter as he slipped. But he quickly recovered and was right behind Johnnie again in short order.

  Johnnie jumped up onto the closest table in the crowded cafeteria and did his best not to step on any dishes or food trays, but wasn’t a hundred percent successful. Angry cadets began throwing parts of their breakfast at him, pelting him with rolls, fruit, and the occasional entrée.

  He knocked over a pitcher of liquid as he jumped to the edge of another table and started to slide, which turned into a happy accident as he moved faster than he could run, while the senior behind him fell forward instead and slid on his chest, slowing him down.

  Next came the dessert table, and it happened to be pie day, so there was a line of various pastries containing delicious fillings that a great many cadets and instructors were going to miss out on, since Johnnie tried throwing every single one at the emerald hunter on his tail, hoping that if one caught him in the face, it would blind him long enough that Johnnie could get away.

  Finally Johnnie got lucky, if only because his pursuer had closed in so close to him, and smashed him in the face with a coconut cream pie. The senior cadet stopped and wiped the pie filling away just in time to see his prey exiting the cafeteria.

  As Johnnie rounded the corner, he spotted his good friend Reginald Christopher III, a guy whose eyes were covered by a large visor that, despite being a modern marvel of technological wonder, was held together by masking tape. Reg was the typical nerdy friend who felt like he constantly had to prove that he was worthy of remaining buddies with the members of a more popular crowd. But the reality was that Johnnie was lucky to have him as a friend.

  Reg was also the richest cadet at the Academy...or at least his parents were the richest parents. This made things even more difficult for him, since everyone was constantly questioning whether he deserved his good grades—or even entrance into the Academy for that matter—or whether things were always being handed to him because of his family’s donations to the school. Truthfully, he deserved grades at least as high as he was getting, as he was also one of the smartest cadets at the Academy. If anything, professors and instructors may have been harder on him to avoid even the appearance that he was getting any special treatment. Unfortunately, he seemed to be on a constant streak of bad luck that caused accidents that made him seem a lot more incompetent than he actually was. Despite all of this, Reg was an optimist and managed to mostly stay out of trouble despite his good friend’s antics.

  Reg looked at Johnnie’s uniform—well, not his, but the one he was wearing—and was very confused. “Johnnie?”

  Johnnie raced by him without losing a step. “Reg, I need a hand.” He had an idea and turned his head back. “Or maybe a foot!”

  Reg saw the senior cadet approaching quickly down the corridor and did some mental calculations. “Diameter 56.6, distance—speed 2.5, angle—trajectory, outcome 98% positive…”

  Reg tapped the shoulder of a cadet standing nearby. The cadet turned, hitting another cadet, who spilled coffee in the lap of a third cadet. The third cadet jumped up, hitting a swinging reading lamp being carried by another student.

  The lamp spun around like it was going to strike the senior cadet in the shin, but at the last moment, it swung up and hit him square in the groin instead. Although the alien had many features that distinguished him from a human male, having sensitive, squishy parts between the legs was not one of them. He froze in his tracks.

  The senior cadet clutched his groin and crashed to the ground. He immediately stood back up, his nose broken and gushing blood. His full attention was now focused on Reg, as evidenced by the rage on his now forest-green face.

  Reg shrugged. “Close, but still effective.”

  The senior grabbed Reg by the front of his uniform and pulled his fist back in preparation for a punch. A terrified Reg held his hands up in front of his face. “You wouldn’t hit a guy who requires a cybernetic visual-enhancement prosthesis, would you?”

  The senior pulled his fist back further for the windup and growled.

  Down the hall, Johnnie looked back and laughed as he made his escape. “Good old Reg—”

  SLAM! Johnnie ran into a massive, gray-skinned alien. Running into Tonga Rad wasn’t quite as bad as running straight into a brick wall, but it was a damn close approximation. Johnnie slumped to the ground in a daze and moaned. “Holy…what the fu—?”

  “Thank you, Tonga.” The voice came from a female cadet a couple of years older than Johnnie, standing with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Shannon Roberts’ features were stark but pretty, and she had her hair pulled back so tightly that it stretched her face a bit. She also proudly wore a “Hall Monitor” badge on the shoulder of her uniform. “I would have enjoyed taking him down myself, but I do appreciate the help.”

  A chronic over-achiever, Shannon had been the hardest working cadet at the Academy for the past two years. She was planning on someday becoming the youngest security chief and then the youngest starship captain in the fleet, and should have been well on her way down that path. However, her success and work ethic had thus far been ignored by her professors, the administration, and, especially, the commandant. That was something she desperately wanted to change.

  Despite his formidable appearance, Tonga Rad seemed genuinely concerned about Johnnie’s welfare. A walking wall of muscle, he hailed from the planet Orifice (pronounced “Ore-i-feech-ee”), where the gravity was several times that of earth, giving him great strength and density. No matter how hard the Academy tried to railroad him into a security pathway, he had always persisted in his desire to be a nurse. For every weapons or martial arts class they forced him to take, he took extra periods of medical classes. “I just hope I didn’t hurt him, Shannon.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine…physically, that is.” She smirked. “His disciplinary record, however, is another matter entirely
.”

  Johnnie stood up on wobbly legs, holding on to Tonga for support with one hand and pulling his skirt down with the other. “What the hell is your deal?”

  Shannon pointed to the patch on her shoulder and got very intense. “My deal, cadet, is that these are my corridors, and I will not have disrespectful underclassmen coming in here and causing a ruckus in them.”

  Johnnie gave Tonga a confused look. “Did she seriously just say ‘ruckus’?”

  ***

  Commandant Richard Lords could feel the familiar headache come on before he even heard the security alert. It was almost like a sixth sense. Or maybe it had just been too long since the last one. Either way, he was quick to open his desk drawer and pull out his bottle of Oxy-Megadose pills and pour himself a tumbler full of Zaldabreenian whisky to take them with.

  He sat back in his large office chair and prepared himself for the call from his secretary, Mrs. Schluump.

  Bzzzzz. Right on cue. Sighing, he pressed the intercom button. “Yes?”

  Mrs. Schluump’s droning voice came over the speaker. “Sir, there’s been a disturbance in the cadet dorms. Lieutenant Bravhart is on his way down, and he asked me to inform you.”

  Bravhart. That certainly didn’t ease his headache any. If the man wasn’t such a usefully malleable lackey, Lords would have booted his ass out of an airlock ages ago. He pressed the call button on the intercom again. “Acknowledged.” He swallowed two pills with a swig of whisky, and then decided on a third for good measure. Then he stabbed the call button a third time with his finger. “Oh, and send the C.O.R.A. unit in here, will you?”

  If the pills and the whisky didn’t do the trick, then maybe is favorite technological distraction would.

  ***

  Lieutenant Corillius Bravhart, a schlumpy-looking Academy administrator, approached the scene of the incident with a scowl plastered on his face. In actuality, that was his default expression. Bravhart was a yes-man of the highest order—a suck up, by-the-book type who basically spent his time hovering around the Commandant and obeying his every whim. The last time he had an original thought was seventeen years earlier, when he decided that every idea he'd had in his life was a poor one, and vowed to never have one again. “Is there a problem here?”

 

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