Ytterbium Fires by Bill Kandiliotis (types of ebook readers TXT) 📕

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Contents

Sell-outs

Black Market

Ice Hangar

Dead Drop Society

Sub-level

Offshore

The Fright Machine

Permian Spring

The Sargasso Void

Proxathlon

Sonic Crab

Zeeper

Nagasaki

The Tesseract

Thank You

About the Author

Other Books

Bill Kandiliotis

Ytterbium Fires

A short story collection

First published by Bill Kandiliotis in 2018

Copyright © Bill Kandiliotis, 2018

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

First Edition

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Contents

Sell-outs

Black Market

Ice Hangar

Dead Drop Society

Sub-level

Offshore

The Fright Machine

Permian Spring

The Sargasso Void

Proxathlon

Sonic Crab

Zeeper

Nagasaki

The Tesseract

1

Sell-outs

What if I were to tell you that a vast galactic civilisation exists, much older than ours; that this space-faring society was a great consumer of things?

Art, food and resources…

…that we Earthlings are a newly discovered delicacy and that a vast market waits.

Is this a bad outcome for mankind or a good one? If a taste for humans takes off, if this becomes more than just a fad, to feed such a vast market, how many billions of people would need to be exported to meet such demand? Billions more would be required to be bred to sustain supply. Humanity will eventually be farmed on other planets across galaxies.

A shortcut for humanity to spread across the stars, yes?

What if I were to tell you that the wretched and corrupt among us were to abandon resistance and flock to these new overlords, selling out their fellow humans in a mad scramble to secure their own individual survival, to carve out their own suzerainty over the helpless, clueless majority?

You would say this is ridiculous.

I would say that this has already occurred.

*first appeared commaful.com

2

Black Market

“I am pleased to announce that we have slain the dragon.”

MercurEx employees, gathering around the trading oval, cheered enthusiastically, the type of reaction James Tucker had hoped for. He needed them to know how much he valued their support.

He wanted them to trust him again. He wanted to trust them back.

“The hypergoblin incursion has been neutralised. It seems we have apparently become experts at killing these things.”

The remark drew laughter.

He knew they hankered for a joke and so he gave them one, even though he feared a remnant of the demented zoid could still be lurking freely within his ethersphere.

Tucker could not afford another setback, so he deemed moving forward with looming unresolved threats a calculating risk.

A daring risk?

Maybe.

A huge risk?

Undoubtedly.

Well, risk-taking is an uberman’s business.

“I am also pleased to announce that the government has set a date for a debate on currency deregulation. This means MercurEx is back in business.”

Cheers from his employees filled Tucker’s chest with hope and confidence. “Eighty percent of our fellow citizens have lost confidence in the current real estate backed cryptocurrency. Sixty percent support deregulation. I smell inevitability in the air, so, regardless of the outcome, regardless whether it is legal or not, MercurEx will declare itself a sovereign entity and the path will be set for us to issue our own currency.”

Tucker felt the gasps of surprise, like air being sucked out of the room. “Every stakeholder including each of you will receive an equal non-transferable share which entitles one to voting rights, access to services and income.”

Speaking over jubilant applause Tucker pressed on. “The key elements in our endeavour are close to realisation. We have already implemented our own in-house time based monetary system. For now, every Mercury Hour you get paid MercurEx buys it back at six federas. I believe in the future this unit of account will dominate the competition. Why? Because time is the most valuable asset an individual will ever possess. When, and I mean when, deregulation occurs our competitors will be peddling the same old interest-bearing kleptocurrencies, money designed to move capital in one direction. MercurEx will be offering not only a local communal monetary system, not even a regional one but a global system. The store of value in our system, for the time being, is MercurEx stock and holdings. In the future, it will be the Global Stock Exchange. It will be the intermarket.”

Tucker waited for the excitement to ease. “The last piece of the puzzle we need to realise is our medium of exchange. This is why I have pursued vigorously to merge technology with finance. Bionaut has finally developed fourth generation capabilities and is ready to go. No, our superzoid is busting to go. The only thing stopping us right now is that NASE 2.0 still isn’t ready yet. This is where my priorities currently stand and I will be working to get the NASE hardware up and rolling as fast as I can. So, bear with me, we still have a long way to go.”

Tucker spent the next few minutes discussing trivial matters with his mercurians, joking with them, appreciating each affectionate smile, and thankful for their unadulterated attentiveness. He didn’t need newsfeeders and rankerphiles to tell him he had the best staff in the world.

Tucker only hoped he could remain the best boss in the world.

With great reluctance, he dismissed everyone and MercurEx returned to its usual hum of capital traders, social developers, marketing engineers, hypernauts and consumer guardians. His human personal assistant Rebeka walked up to him, the concern on her face a stark reminder of the hazardous adventures that were scheduled for the day. “I’ve been unable to contact Mr Blackwell,” she said.

“He’s stonewalling.”

Asshole.

Tucker never expected such nasty tactics from his close acquaintance, a peer he considered a friend first and foremost.

He felt betrayed.

He found it hard to stomach it.

It made him feel sick.

Tucker couldn’t allow it dragging on.

“I know where that knucklehead frolics,” he said and headed towards the greeting gallery. “I guess I’ll have to pay him an impromptu visit.”

“I’ll book a taxicab for you.” offered Rebeka, her look of concern unchanged.

Once outside, the sweltering air pounded against Tucker’s skin the second he passed through the lobby’s giant revolving doors. Titanic pieces of moving glass that never failed to intimidate.

Tucker legged it to the nearest transtop, joining a medley of commuters coveting the free rides offered by the local city district. Wondering what delayed his pre-booked taxicab James Tucker jostled for a better vantage point on a notoriously hectic stretch of Ocean Drive.

Hypergoblin crisis averted.

Tucker felt something strange overwhelm him.

For now.

He didn’t know what. He couldn’t work it out.

A paranoid sensation burning in his ears.

He cast his eye out to the bluezone crowd and spotted a few eyes looking back. Nothing threatening, just the occasional fans who have noticed an uberman in their midst.

Ex-uberman.

Unless a reverse in his fortunes occurs his days as a celebrated, revered fame junky would be gone forever. The uberisque crowd had grown younger and more competitive. He became chief executive of a major corporation at age nineteen.

Now you have seventeen-year-olds out there.

It saddened him little. The world had put too much pressure on its youth. He felt an acute loss of innocence back then and pitied those kids.

A flash of white blotted out half his vision.

A loud screech followed the commercial cargovan as it stopped abruptly right in front of him.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Tucker’s brain ceased to function, stalled by the occurrence.

React, you dumb son of a bitch, his internal voice screamed at him as a slit appeared in the white panel. The side door slid open, revealing a gaping dark interior. Two gloved arms lashed out and quickly grabbed Tucker, violently pulling him inside the cargovan.

The side door slammed shut behind him as the sudden motion of the vehicle taking off added to his disorientation. Thrown onto the bare steel floor he stumbled in the darkness, straining his eyes to get a look at his kidnappers.

He saw a fist fly at him and smack the side of his head. Tucker fell on his back, his hands in the air, submissively. Seconds of confusion reigned in his mind, again looking past his outstretched arms to get a glimpse of his attacker. What he saw intensified his fears. A brutish, well-built man donning black commando overalls and a black ski mask crouched casually over him.

The man pointed something at his face. Tucker strained his eyes further to get them to focus on the well-forged object of death. His brain went numb… until he remembered his training. Tucker never prepared for such an occasion. He knew the statistic were high, even within the bluezone. Arrogance got the better of him, shunning bodyguards and corporate security while most others in his position did quite the opposite. Operational security in a majority of companies gobbled on average a third of profits.

MercurEx spent zero.

He built a corporate empire on giving out free product and making no enemies and supporting bluezoners, slumfolk and refugians alike, whenever possible.

Who needed operational security?

Now he delved into his military service past, searching for survival tips.

“Easy!” he yelled as years of training kicked in.

Fear, not the enemy. Fear the emotion that hamstrings intuition.

Fear itself.

“Whatever it is you want? I’ll cooperate!”

“Is that right?” grunted the brute.

“I have no wish to become a statistic.”

Tucker had never in his life faced anything as precarious as this. In his tour of duty during the Phosphorus Wars he had come face to face with tecto-rifle wielding warlords, but over there he was armed to the tooth and in the company of expertly trained troopers.

The brute reached over and plucked the Kinefone lobeset from Tucker’s ear.

Assess the situation.

Tucker’s heart thumped harder, feeling the adrenaline rushing to his head. Outside the multiple arches of the