Minister Faust by From (html) (librera reader txt) đź“•
Read free book «Minister Faust by From (html) (librera reader txt) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: From (html)
Read book online «Minister Faust by From (html) (librera reader txt) 📕». Author - From (html)
“Over and out!”
~~Cain’t keep this up f’ever. Better spit on em. Now that’s a sight! Fry, you stupid lil words! Golly, I always loved that smell—like burnin hair. That’s better—now I c’n get me a clearer look-see. Golldangit! Lookit the size a them boys, them whatchacallem—Ka-Sentinels? Like a football team of tar black Goliaths with hawk faces. And who’s that fightin alongside em? Whoever it is, they’s beatin the stuffin outta Ivory Giant!
~~My gosh, it sure is a lovely night; stars all a-twanklin. Sunhawk Island’d be a nice place t’go campin sometime. Think maybe when we’re done t’night I should grab me some dinner at th’Olive Garden. They give ya extra breadsticks gratis if y’ask for ’em kindly. Maybe I should get me that collie dog I been thankin about for a spell. They shed suh’m fierce, though…Hm…Is they reruns of Rockford Files on tonight? Always like that there Jim Rockford…
“Blue Leader! Blue Leader! This is Cathode Girl, do you copy?”
“Cathode Girl, this is Omnipotent Man, the Blue Leader. Over.”
“Blue Leader, we need your assis—”
“Say, Cathode Girl, who’s that fella leadin alla them Ka-Sentinels—the one wearin the golden skirt and whippin around that scepter? Over.”
“Blue Leader, that’s the L*A*Bster, Grimhotep the Living Ka! Blue Leader, please engage! We are currently having the sweet shit kicked out of us! Over!”
“Cathode Girl, this is Blue Leader—please keep th’profanity off this here channel! Over!”
“Blue Leader, Eldritch Cleaver has cut off Atomic Giraffe’s legs, Ivory Giant’s being kicked to death on the ground, and it’s all Zed and I can do to shatter these Sentinels! We need your help, Blue Leader!”
“Don’ get y’drawers in a knot, lil lady, I’m a-comin!”
~~Gotta plow through another cloud a these word-dealies. Worse’n Mexican skeeters. Lookit alla them animals runnin around down there—so dark out, it’s tough to…what’re them, crocodiles? An hippos! An a elk or suh’m? Hawk King shore had hisself a fine preserve here. Okay, let’s deal with these Sentinels.
~~Hm—skin feels like marble, cool and smooth. Still—uhn—they aint so tough. Just like crumblin crackers in yer soup. Ten-foot-tall black crackers with golden beaks, anyhow. How many left—okay, got those two. Get them over there—done and done. Spit down these six. Where’s Grimhotep? Fightin Cathode and Zed the Livin Phoneme. They’ll be fine. Okay, smash this one. Crack them two. Spit these five down to—
~~DMMMF! M’dadblamed skull feels like I jess been quarterback-sacked in a minefield! Where am I? Up to m’neck in th’water—Sunhawk Island’s way in the heck over there an I’m a-bobbin in th’Bay—
“Who sucker punched me? C’mon, show y’self, unless yer yella! Don’make me smoke ya out!”
~~NFFF! Like takin a missile in m’midsection—an whoever’s plowin into me is shootin us up outta th’water now—
~~Kick him away—watch that crumb-bum spinning end-over-coffeepot. “Who are ya, y’no-good sucker-puncher?”
“You don’t know me, Argonian?”
~~Somebody’s hovering out there with his back to th’moon, all shadowed an I cain’t see ’im fer squat—’cept he’s got a cape an he’s holdin some kinda oversized double-sided ax or suh’m.
“Sorry, buddy? Could y’all turn on a light or suh’m? I’m guessin y’all don’get many offers t’play basketball at night.”
“Taunt all you like, Impotent Man! For I, Shango, will be the orisha of your doom!”
~~OW! Betty Crocker, that smarts! Put his lil ol ax right in my turnstiled kneecap! Let’s see how he likes a little spit-shine! That’s better, son—now I can see ya, lit up like a ’lectric Santy Claus on Bustle Avenue at Christmas!
“How ya like that, Shangy-Man? You talk tough for somebody wearin such a funny little tiara!”
~~UHFF! Tough sumbitch, all right! Better shock him some more—still keeps on coming—burnt off most of his hair an clothes, an he’s still swangin, grabbin me, wrastlin me like a Florida king gator hopped up on funny-beans—hokay, gots to choke im—gon be tough—his neck’s tougher’n m’thigh—practically huggin im he’s so close—
~~Now, there she goes, throat’s finally crackin—
~~DAMN, he up an smoked me in th’eye with a head butt—
~~What’s all this sand or dust or whatever—hey, smells like—
~~Everything’s foggy an spinnin…World’s gone blue an black an blue an black an blue—like I’m swimmin in Windex and crude oil, all hot an cold at the same time, I’m all tinglin an singin an laughin an m’heart’s a-throbbin…Why’s the water rushin t’ward me like that? Okey-dokey, I’ll take a little soaky…Nice a Shangy to go fer a dip with me, even if he’s lyin facedown an all. Looks powerful peaceful. Think I’ll try it—
I deselected my OM Meter link into Wally’s mind and checked the honeycomb for a visual scan of what was happening, but I could see nothing except darkness interrupted by flashes. And if a night-vision setting existed, I didn’t know how to activate it.
I dialed up an audio link. “Anyone, anyone, can you hear me?”
“Miss Brain! This is the Flying Squirrel! Get the hell off this mission channel!”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Festus, and I’m sure you’re busy, but Wally’s been incapacited somehow—he may be drowning—”
“I was OM Metering the whole affair! He’s been hit by an A-bomb!”
“An atomic bomb? Are you sure?”
“Argonium, you nitwit! Probably laced with Edgerton’s shadow-synthetic version. And I seriously doubt Wally’ll drown…his brain can survive without oxygen for decades—hadn’t you noticed? Now get the hell off this line and stay off!”
I hung up and spoke to the computer directly. “Where is Philip Kareem Edgerton, HKA the X-Man?”
The honeycomb flitted through thousands of camera-sights on Los Ditkos—the mainland, the Bird Island borough, and Sunhawk Island—sorting and filtering until dozens of urban angles lit up on the same image: a black car streaking at what must have been more than 140 miles an hour, racing from Ellison Heights over the Rubicon Bridge and the Mantlo River, bypassing the clogged traffic of Bustle Avenue and ripping along River Drive beside the elite Bechtburton district, burning straight toward the northern plateau of the island—
But why was X-Man headed there? And why had the rest of his confederates thrown away their lives elsewhere? What had they been protecting? Or
Comments (0)