A couple weeks ago, I posted the first 503 words of my story. For anyone interested in another taste (from chapter two):
When the call came in, I was flat on my back, floating in a warm, viscous solution. I was defined by relaxation and perfectly content to dwell on the visions of sugared fullerenes dancing in my head. No one was supposed to know I was here, soaking. As a matter of fact, I’d gone to great lengths to ensure that not one of my business associates had the first clue where I’d gone or what my current agenda was. I thought it only natural to let the call drop to my message service — this was time I was paying for, after all. Rejuve time. Time to float in fluids thick with lipids and rich with proteins and let the spa folks make me a new man. I dropped the second call right to my messages, too. For all intents and purposes I was the picture of pursuant perfection — weightless and wonderful at 21 Celsius. If I hadn’t been as serene as the moon, I might have thought better of answering the third call. Instead, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and glanced at the beacon to see the friendly UDI and the grinning headers of a trusted network. I thought to myself What the hell, whoever this is, they went to a shitload of trouble to find me…
It should not have been a surprise then that my optic nerve snapped out of Tranquility Grey Mesh and came to life with such a familiar face.
Tucked away in some deepest fold of some obscurest corner of the world, a stern Russian brow frowned at me over pensive Japanese eyes. Yuri’s androgynous face was tight across high but wide cheekbones and trailed by an equally androgynous but twice as tight ponytail. The mouth was straight and severe, a scale for measuring out equal parts of patience and impatience.
“You are sometimes a very difficult man to find, Grey.”
I rocked back and forth in the solution, my first muscle twitch in weeks. It felt good to move but not good enough to desire escape. “That was the whole idea. You know, when you can’t sleep, you need to find some other way to unwind.” My lips moved out of habit even though speech was impossible during a soak like this.
“I’m guessing I should be glad I don’t have your problems, no?”
“Exactly. Do you have any idea how much a few weeks at one of these spas costs? Any idea how many thousands of GC just to book the tank? How much the premium is on an anonymous registration? What’s so important that you need to interrupt my protein therapy session?”
Yuri’s disembodied head looked at me like I should already know the answer to that question. “You know I would not have called if I did not find myself without alternative.”
“Weighty words, Yuri. Why do I get the feeling you’re about to tell me I’m going to lose my deposit?”
Thin lips beamed, heavy eyebrows got lighter, and a bold chin softened.
Once again: Not the whole chapter but I hope it’s enough to pique some interest…
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