Now Available for Pre-Order: The Starman's Arrival
What's it About?
I knocked over the beer. On purpose. In front of everyone. And then I ran. I think I saved the starman. The only question is: Can anyone save me? From the raiders and the forest.Can anyone save any of us?
You can find links to where it is available on this Books2Read page: https://books2read.com/u/4NV0Vx, and subscribers to my ReamStories page will be granted access to it, and many of my other titles as part of their subscription.
How Does It Start?
He came in a shower of light, a beam that shot out from the orbiting starship and set him precisely in the centre of the town square. It was lucky the bandits shot him before he had fully formed; the round passed right through. His look of surprise, however, is etched, forever, on my memory.
And then I screamed, and knocked over an entire rack of beer, shattering the bottles on the cobbles, and drawing the bandits’ attention. Always a bad idea. I ran—and the bandits ran after me.
By the time they thought to look back, the starman had disappeared…which brought me to the now very obvious flaw in my plan: I’d just wrecked a large part of their next shipment. Deliberately. In full sight of everyone. Trouble did not begin to describe the mess I’d just landed myself in.
The bandits relied on their beer to keep the money coming in. Not enough beer meant not enough money—and not enough money meant they’d start selling villagers—but not me. I was probably for the chopping block. There hadn’t been a decent spectacle for days, and I’d just given them a great excuse.
Well, crap.
I made it through the front door of the nearest house, the sound of booted feet pounding after me. No one tried to stop me; they were too busy diving for cover, and I didn’t blame them. If the bandits couldn’t catch me, the next nearest person was just going to have to do. I skidded down the hall, through the kitchen, and out the back through the laundry, slamming doors behind me as I went.
The bandits would either have to stop and open them, or—the sound of a door being reduced to kindling came from behind me—yep, or they could do that. Double crap. I was an archivist, not an athlete. Despite that, I hung a sharp left, taking the narrow back street that gave everyone access to their garages, and then dodging to the right when I got to the end.
Shoppers’ Row. Not a bad choice. I was across the street and through the bakery door just as the apprentice took out the sign to show it was open for business. He took one look at the speed I was going and dropped the sign, bolting for the alley running down the side of the shop. I don’t think he even looked to see what was chasing me. Smart move.
I knocked over tables, hoping to create more obstacles, and left Mr. Roderick curling up behind one, in an attempt to not be seen. He didn’t even complain that I’d spilled his coffee. The baker’s assistant crawled under her counter, and the senior apprentice went down in a shower of hot bread rolls and clattering pans as I shoved him out of my way. So much for not being an athlete. I wondered how I was going to record this.
Glass shattered and more wood splintered as the bandits demolished another door, and I wondered if I was going to survive to record this. I really hoped they didn’t catch up, but I didn’t want them to stop, either. I reached out and swept a row of empty bread tins onto the floor. The baker didn’t bother shouting at me. He grabbed his fallen apprentice and the journeyman baker, and pulled them into the store room.
I don’t think he was very happy with me.
Where Do You Find It?
You can find this short story in the collection, Of Lost Ships and Colonies, or as a stand-alone short story on the C.M.'s Singles Books2Read page: https://books2read.com/rl/cmssingles.
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