Dynamo – Part 2
Dynamo has places I want to take it, and I quite frankly like the lead character. So places it will go.
I spent a lot of Wednesday’s post on just chatting, so this one will be more story focused. To get it out of the way: Patreon fixed itself with the most honest and sincere apology I’ve ever seen. It was.. awe-inspiring. So that’s a thing again.
Net neutrality is dead-ish. Mostly dead. Maybe we can magic bean it back, but it’ll take a miracle. It’s going to be another huge hurdle for my career, and one that no amount of effort may overcome. That’s the thing Pai and his cronies miss: not all barriers in a corporate oligarchy can be passed without currency in hand. Every single dystopian novel I’ve ever read speculating on that type of future has guaranteed that’s how humans will react. It shows in every facet of the current corporate culture, and nothing about that will change.
So, I’m upset about that, and a few other items *cough* tax bill *cough* but that’s for another day and another post. Maybe I’ll just skip it and focus on other stuff.
Hope springs eternal.
Addendum – I’m super tired after spending nearly three hours cleaning this morning. I’m in a bit of a mental fugue, and despite my best efforts, I have not been able to beat my torpor into submission. Combination of out of shape, lack of consistent sleep, and lack of ADHD medicine all rolled up into one nice little ‘eff you’ package. I’ll do what I can, but I might have to save the heavy lifting for the story until Monday.
Dynamo – Part 2
Agatha ran for the still smoking, rubble strewn crater that had once been a cafe wall, plasma cannon in hand, air filled with the whining hum as it gathered power for the coming storm. Blood smeared her face, and a vicious rictus of a smile was all that awaited her attackers below hardened hazel eyes.
Her attackers were even now rounding the corner, a standard assault platoon of six. They were in perfect single file, each covering a different approach angle. What they were not prepared for, however, was the dead sprint of a sundress wearing five foot two woman holding a two and a half meter long heavy-coil Mythic-III with the glowing business end pointed right at them. To their credit, and as a testament to their training, they didn’t panic and scatter.
They did order an immediate withdrawal just shy of retreat, but it wasn’t enough. Agatha’s weapon was charged, and a sickening orange-green lance of concentrated energy shot forward from the cannon. The blast was extraordinary in two ways: it made hardly more noise than the retreating combat armored boots of the shock troops, and the beam was so hot that it turned anything it touched to ashes.
Anything. Two of the soldiers at the front of the line caught the brunt of the blast, and only a smattering of boots and arms remained to tell of their passing. The Asian-Italian fusion restaurant next to the cafe was equally unequal to repel the beam. A large hole roughly a meter in diameter plowed through the entire affair, and the clatter of furniture unbalanced by a sudden lack of leg or pans clanging around in a kitchen voided of counter-space filled the air.
Shouts, shrieks, and the frenzied chatter of the soldiers reached back to Agatha as she released the trigger. The Mythic-III wasn’t actually designed to be fired in atmosphere for extended periods of time. It didn’t quite burn hot enough to ignite the air of Maglitha Primus, but it was far too close for her own comfort. Not that it stopped her from using it, heavy as the confounded thing was. At over nine hundred kilos, it was putting serious strain on her nano-reinforced joint servos. They whined at her in protest as she continued her headlong sprint out of the doubly destroyed wall, chasing the soldiers who had though to kill her.
To be continued…
Mythicfully,
Justin
