The next instant he was flat on the ground. His eyes darted left and right for cover. He
spotted something; an artificial cave, built into a corner of the main room, perhaps a hundred feet away. It looked like some sort of shrine or temple. Manny could see the walls were thick with melted candles, colorful drawings and a variety of brass symbols. He grabbed Reggie by the shoulder and shook, hard. The other man jerked, locked eyes with Manny and mouthed, “What?”…
For the eleventh month in a row she was spending sixty-five AmFed dollars for the privilege of staring through a camera at nothing for a half hour a day. Sasha had been warned about this when she’d signed up to support the Woodlands Martyr’s Brigade. Their drone guns didn’t see much action; the front had been stable for the last year. Rumor said the number of backers who’d even gotten to fire during their turn was under a dozen. Sasha had hoped she’d be a special case…
Roland’s brain didn’t wait for the acid to do its job; nanomachines couriered the lysergic diethylacid direct to his synapses. The drugs took hold in a manner of seconds. Acid softened the world around him. His hindbrain’s running commentary faded into a sort of generalized hyper-awareness of the world around him. He sighed, relaxed, and remembered…
Escorting reporters from the safety of Austin to the sundry hot spots of the old Metroplex was not Manny’s ideal career. Two years ago he’d been working on a bachelor’s in business administration from the University of Austin. The plan had been to get a job with Aegis Biosystems, then charm his way into a working visa and a gig in the California Republic…