Yesterday’s First Words: September 06, 2018—Mack ‘n’ Me: The Wolves of Alpha 9
Yesterday was a slow day for the words.
I was distracted, and not very disciplined about not letting the business side of things interfere with the writing side of things, and, even though I managed to work
1,000 words an hour, it was difficult. You get days like that, as a writer; the
trick is to keep working, but let yourself take frequent short breaks, and come
back to it. The words get done, and so do other things, and you don’t hate
yourself for not being a super-hero, later on.
Anyway, I had almost reached 5,000 words by
the afternoon, and was on track to reach my 7,000-word goal by shortly after dinner, when my father rang with some really not-so-great family news, and I had to change to track to
deal with the implications of that. Family has to come first.
Now, I’m still dealing with those implications, and
will be for some time to come, but the writing continues, albeit with a slight
schedule change, and an understanding that I'm going to need to priorities tasks that had been playing second fiddle to the word making. With that in mind, here are yesterday’s first words:
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“And it’s our job to make sure that start
continues,” Mack said, and there was a finality in his tone that told me
Captain Mack was firmly in charge. “You bet your ass, he is. Now get dressed.”
I got dressed—and
made sure I did it in record time. There was something about this job that was
bothering Mack, and he wasn’t sharing what. I figured I’d broach that with him
while we ate. There was something about the job that was bothering me, too.
“We’re doing the
job,” Mack said, as we sat down to breakfast, and that was the last he’d allow
on the subject until we’d eaten.
Again, Doc had
provided a minimum. This time, though, I was hungry, and had no trouble eating
over it.
“You throw up
on Stepyan’s training range, and he’s going to have you in there with a
toothbrush and nail file for a month.”
“How’s he gonna
know?”
“Man’s got his own
direct feed from the range cams.”
“I could fix
that.”
“Let’s not go
there.”
Fine. I guess if
I’d thought Tens was touchy about having his system hacked—and by his
system, he meant the entirety of the Shady Marie—I shoulda known Stepyan was
ten times as sensitive about anyone playing with his security. You know, him being
an assassin and all.
I picked up my
kaff, and changed the subject.
“This isn’t a deal
we should keep.”
From the look on
Mack’s face, that wasn’t anything he’d expected to come out of my mouth.
“I gave my word.
To a wolf. We’re keeping it.”
“I don’t think—”
But that was as
far as I got. Mack was in my head, and dumping files into my implant like he
was the front-end-loader of information. Worse than that, he’d set them to open
on landing, and I was sucked inside my head as I tried to keep up with the data
flow. It was like drowning, but not. I struggled to sort the input and absorb
it, horrified and angered by what I found.
I didn’t even
notice when the files stopped coming, or register the fact that Mack kinda
stood to one side in my head and watched me work, until I had my head around
what it was we were going into—and precisely why. It wasn’t about the contract,
anymore. It wasn’t even because he’d given his word.
Man was pissed
and—by the time I’d finished sorting through the files—so was I.
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Would
you like to read more?
The first three books and two short stories in the Mack ‘n’ Me ‘n’ Odyssey series: Mack ‘n’ Me: Origins, The
Depredides Dance, Mack ‘n’ Me: Blaedergil’s Host,
Mack ‘n’ Me: Arach
and Cloud
Door, are also
available. The fourth book, Mack ‘n’ Me: The Transporter’s Favour
will release shortly.
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