Marla’s got the evening on a choke chain and autumn’s arm behind its back. The leaves are strangling on their branches, bruising brown and yellow. The sun’s flush with wallowed rage.
Campus: Latin for field, more specifically of battle. What did Caesar have that college doesn’t? Columns, lust and gluttony, blood on the grass and a knife in his back.
She’s knocking on the door now, tape tight around her knuckles. The Romans liked bloodsport, too. She’s ancient and aquiline, eyes blank as marble; she’s waiting for the Emperor’s thumb to turn. Marla’s no sadist. Pain isn’t pleasure: pain is pain.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
“So warping space takes an impossible amount of energy, right?”
Eddie’s brow leaps. “Right. Are you doing Star Trek math again? Don’t waste your–”
“But warping the perception of space is easy,” says Marv. “I’m doing it right now. Learn by taking tests! Lower taxes, more revenue!”
“I’m not sure handwaving contradictory statements is the energy source of the future.”
“Perception is reality!”
Eddie sighs. “So what, you’re going to spin generators with this?”
“Nah. Put it in a spaceship, maybe,” muses Marv.
The newly christened SS Crabtree’s Bludgeon is halfway to Tau Ceti before they actually finish turning it on.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008