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Eye of the Storm · Original Short Story ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 2000–8000

Prizes

The following prizes are courtesy of horizon and Trick Question:

  • $25 USD to 1st place
  • $15 USD to 2nd place
  • $15 USD to 3rd place
  • $20 USD to the top placing entrant who has never entered a Writeoff before

A complete detailing of the prizes on offer is here.

Show rules for this event
Of Thomas Hobbes and Frontal Lobe Trauma
"I do not know how the Third World War will be fought, but I can tell you what they will use in the Fourth — rocks!" ~ Albert Einstein



World broken by fallout. Now Husk. Once big living thing, now dead shell. Bad for people. Good for business. Good for war. War very good for business. Very bad for people. Is sweet bitterness.

Maybe before you hear from clever people. Or stupid people sound clever. Maybe you soldier. Probably soldier. Most soldier profession these days.

They tell you the Husk of world is small place, need to be controlled. Give you big gun and small words. Go shoot them. This town ain’t not big enough for both of us. Blah, blah, blah. All bullies. Kicking other’s sandcastles. I no like. I like sandcastles. Pretty. Kicking bad for business.

You now hear from me, Prattle, best merchant in Husk. Is good place, many customers, all need things. I have great many things, so I have great many customers. All get good deals, is happy times indeed, make many friends.

Make many enemies too, but they not last long. Very Bad Things happen to enemies.

Husk is big place, dead place. Many looting corpse. Much loot to corpse. But not many like share. This is where I come in.

On one side, Metro. Big place, lots of slaves, huge city. Much manufacturing, not many brains. Muscle. Muscle city. Wants to punch landscape into submission. Good customers, I have best muscles.

On other side, the Universe City. Smaller city, bigger brains. Freedom, democracy. Bah. Not for me. If I choose who rules me, I choose myself. I am best man for job. They disagree, but still good customers. Freedom of buying from Prattle is greatest freedom of all. Doesn’t take big brains to know that. They are big dorks.

Now, though, is battle. Big war, lots of fighting and death and blood. Wonderful spectacle. Metro and Dorks, valued customers.

We go there now, you and I. I sell you experience, yes? Word of mouth very good for business.

We go.

First, I take you on tour. Show you home and business, yes? Best home and business in Husk. You see.

Is very nice mobile home I start with, like caravan old world families take on holiday to beaches. But no more beach, is gone. No more holiday, no more such thing. Still mobile home, so I take.

You notice armour? Lots of armour plating, strong like me. Look at my muscles. Best muscles. Is shoot at often, so I make armour. You like? Very pretty. Much welding. Came from tank. Engine also came from tank. Much came from tank. Why not take tank, you ask? Because is not house. Fool question.

A man's house is his castle. I make castle fortress, yes. Is good! You like? Of course you like, is good house, is best house!

"Prattle," wife yells, "who are you talking to?"

Audience, wife. Make for good business. Advertising!

"I see." Wife murmurs slowly. Beautiful wife, very good wife. She cook well, she put up with me, very loving. Acrobat in bedroom, yes, best wife. Not for sale. No. Black skin like fancy chocolates she loves so much, I find for her, because I best husband. Yes. Dress like ivory, look like a fancy piano. But eyes, oh yes, sparkling eyes! So full of intelligence, my wife. Very savvy.

She blushes, dark cheeks turning feminine pink. "You do know you're still talking, yes? But you are very flattering. Perhaps I may keep you a while yet."

Ah. I still do not know how to soliloque. Practice, practice, practice. Still figure this out.

"No?" Success. She not hear that. Practice! "Well, then. Perhaps-"

"We get moving?" I finish. We finish each other's business propositions. Much romance. "Yes, yes, I show business to new friends."

"Of course, dear." She purrs. "I'll go over inventory, then, shall I? Don't get us shot too bad, then."

Much love.

I do, I do.

Driving in the Husk is very tricky, because all the roads gone. No more! Tank engine helps, very big tire helps. Take entire house offroad!

Wait. Stop.

Stop house.

I see pretty rock.

“Ra!” I cry, opening door with pretty whooshing sound it makes, “I find quartz stone! Look, is beautiful gem, like you! Bring Ra box!”

Wife dutifully brings out one of many boxes full of prettiest rocks. Is my collection. I add the pretty quartz to collection. Collection is now one quartz rock prettier. Still not as pretty as Ra.

Back in house! Business calls! Offroad house, now.

Normal offroad tricky enough. Battlefield even trickier. Metro sending huge mortar shells, bang! Another outside left window, so I steer right. Wife looks bored. Ho ho ho, she is hard to please, isn't she?

Husk, this place, it is all mud, all offroad. Encyclopedia set in back of house -- I sell to you, good price -- shows famous battle, Battle of Somme? Right now it look like that, only with much more lasers. Many bullets too, most bullets, but some lasers. Personally think First World War would look much better with lasers. Bleed less too. Much cooler. Better war.

More people too. Too few here. Not enough customers. Enough though.

I see familiar shadow arcing down. New mortar! Where will it land? Of course, of course, yes, I steer into it. Big bowl crater, krakow! Mud cakes windshield, hit it with right tires, jump up on two wheels.

Very bad for suspension. Expensive to fix. But good suspension, can take, can take, and wife laughs now. Ra laughs beautifully, as sweet as chocolate. All chocolate. Sweet chocolate wife.

Bang! House lands back on four wheels. Bullets smack smack smack like hail on both sides. Like doorbell on business, means business good.

Many customers.

Trenches! Bunkers! Metro soldiers, yes. Find officers, they have all the money. Slaves very sad, no money, can't help them.

We park behind a bunker.

Angry man, grey hair. Old man! Old soldiers are very tough. Don't get old otherwise. Like medal of honour, grey hair. Practically white, this man! Bald on top, just snow around edges. And an eyepatch! Very fancy.

He looks very surprised by my house. Must explain.

Hello, valued customer! I am Prattle, and I come bearing many goods! Best goods! What do you want today?

He still looks very surprised. A railgun round goes off nearby, he doesn't flinch, I don't flinch, but other soldier nearby flinch a lot. Falls right over! Oh, head gone, pop! That's why. Funny world. I laugh.

"Uh, the labcoat fucks are heavily entrenched, and mortar fire isn't cutting it. They're cutting us down with-- Sorry, would you please stop pointing and laughing, man? It's disrespectful.”

But he burst like meat balloon!

"Yes, and it will keep happening if we can't locate their snipers."

Oh! Sniper. That problem? No big deal.

"Well. My men and women disagree."

Ah. Well. I have just the thing. Ra! Wife! Love of life!

Like chocolate, she purs. "Mm? What is it that they want?"

Good question. I ask; What do you have to trade?

The man looks at me very seriously with good eye. Maybe with bad eye too, but eyepatch, can't tell. "Two dozen grenades. If you can make it with that tank of yours--"

House! I correct. Is good house, but still just house.

"... house, then." He says. Rounds pepper ground around house, but it makes good shield to do business, like umbrella made of muscle. "To take out the snipers keeping us pinned down, I can give you--"

But again I cut him off, shaking head. "No, killing customers bad for business. But!" I smile, and run to Ra. Tell her plan. She nods and gets it from inventory. Little tablet with screen, like top half of laptop. Touchscreen. I give to grumpy soldier. He looks very annoyed, but I turn on screen for him.

"What..." He holds hand up. Waves. Soldier talking to man on the little screen waves up at us too. Look at other man on screen! He old, too, and has many muscles. Is me of course. You cannot buy muscles this perfect. "This is a military satellite? You got the viewfinder to an antique military satellite?"

"Like new, though!" I say. "Yes, yes, supplies limited. But very good quality." I do not tell him about the missiles. Missiles cost extra. "But you see where they hiding now, yes?"

He starts swiping his grubby little hands across screen. I wince. Ra must clean later. "How did you get this?"

Trade secret.

"There goes the fog of war." He breathes. "Alright. Two dozen grenades, all yours."

Yes. Two dozen grenades, ten minutes. Special deal today, three dozen and I give you twenty. Very good deal.

He looks at me gravely. "Ten minutes? How much for the device?"

Not for sale. Bad deal.

"We only have the two dozen, I'm afraid. I don't believe we can extort this from you? Threaten you?"

I smile very wide. It's a happy question! Fun question. Makes me laugh every time. "You want Bad Things to happen? Because Bad Things happen to men who threaten my muscles."

The officer nods soberly. Maybe I sell him alcohol? Later, later, he must want to think now. "I suspected as much. You're a deceptively dangerous man, Mr Prattle. Two dozen grenades for ten minutes."

Dozen now, dozen later. I agree.

I chortle. ‘Mr’ Prattle. He show respect! I like, I love!

We make deal, is good deal. I look for other customers.

Wait, is that?

Yes!

Ra! Come, come, I find mica! Beautiful rock, is hard and shimmery and bright, like you, my love!

I stroll over to get mica. Big beautiful rock. Ra is taking box out. She only smiles at me when she thinks I’m not looking, but is most honest smile.

Oh look! Bleeding man in trench holding guts in! Still alive, much screaming! Oh! And fancy helmet. Officer too. Expensive man!

Hello, expensive man. Would you like me to save you? I have many bandages and painkillers and Ra, she is very good with stitches.

He wouldn’t stop screaming, so I stab him in neck with morphine. Much morphine. Free sample, on house, make for good business. "I wasn’t a religious man before but sweet Christ if you aren’t an angel.”

No. Angels free. Not charity. We do business.

“W-what?”

What do you sell me for medicine?

He starts crying. “I don’t got anything man, please, please, please-” He keeps saying that, babbling everywhere. Bah. Bad haggling. No sale.

Money. Do you have money?

He snivels. “Do you... do you take cheques?”

No. I take boots.

“W-what?”

He repeats himself. Fool. Was I not clear?

Boots. I take.

I take his boots. They are good boots. Ra will polish them and make them better.

“W-wait,” he chokes out, coughing blood, “Save me!”

Why?

“You took my boots.”

Well. Yes. Is fair point. Want boots back?

“N-no!”

Then what is problem?

“Save me!”

More bullets whiz past. No hit Prattle. Prattle invincible, yes. Muscles protect him. Dying bad for business.

“Well. Maybe. What is blood type?”

More bloody coughing. Gross. Never get stains out. Ra would be unhappy to see. “O negative. You got blood bags?”

“No. Quite opposite. Blood valuable. I take. I take for saving you.”

He wheezes. “Don’t think I got any to spare right now, buddy.” Gallows humour. Is admirable. Is good man. I like him. Hope he doesn’t die.

“Just a little. Just a bag. Mix with plasma. Very valuable. I save you now, yes?”

“Oh, thank Christ.”

“No Christ, only business.”

I get Ra, my little sun goddess, and the medical kit. Is big kit, like ambulance, only in roadie cases. With medicine, Ra is like rock star, and she carries it like such. Very much in love. Very beautiful like this. Her white dress covered now in surgical apron, black hand’s white opera gloves traded for blue surgeon’s gloves. Even washes hands first! Oo la la, very fancy.

She stitches him up good and proper. He might live, even. Magnet covered in shrapnel drops in little metal basin, sploosh, and the dirty water turns red with valuable blood.

I ask if she got blood bag.

She nods and smiles. Like vampire. I swoon.

Wife knows good business.

I stroll back to officer in charge. Man with eyepatch, good man.

“Ten minutes is up, Old Man.” I say with utmost respect.

He looks offended. But it has been at least ten minutes. Maybe more. Ra is quick with stitches. I get sloppy. Could ask for more payment, but is bad business. Never blame customer for Prattle’s mistakes.

I take tablet. Salute Old Man. He salutes back. I look at tablet. Yes, many snipers now craters. I hope they escape in time. Dead people can not do business. Tragic. Can only loot. No fun. Dead people don’t haggle.

Much fun in haggling.

I go, then, to check out.

Ra! Back in home. We go.

She takes the boxes of grenades courteously. Takes them to inventory. Tallies them. Has good head for maths. Not so much people.

I am not people. I am Prattle. She is good to me. Is best wife.

We drive offroad again. Big potholes. Much fun. But good suspension, it takes, it takes. Potholes big as people, deep as dog is tall, ka-clunk, ka-clunk. Big muscle engine pulls us through. Ra enjoys the bumps. She laughs when she thinks I cannot hear, but I hear. I have big muscle ears too.

Wait. I slow home down.

Look, Ra! Look! Is big brick of red garnet! Your birthstone! I remember. We must get. We must get pretty Ra stone.

She looks amused. If I cover mouth with hand, but, I can see concern in corner of eyes. Is how you read true emotions. Her masks have eyeholes, yes, where she sees out. Old country trick.

Which old country?

Mine.

Best old country.

“We can’t stop here, love. We’re in the middle of no-man’s land.” Bah. All land no-man’s land. No buy, only rent. Here is no different. “You can’t just use our home for cover. We’re being shot at on both sides.”

“Yes. So garnet might be shot too. Poof! No more Ra rock. I must get for you. Save from war. Like I save you.”

Amusement gone. Something else. I cannot read. I am not good with faces. Part of why I love Ra so much; Is unimportant, her face almost always lie anyway. So confuse me when her face just honest, like smile when I am not looking.

“You’re not going out there.”

No, I agree.

But it coming in here.

I about to open door when drive over landmine. Koosh! How did it get out here? How is it not shelled yet? Bah. Inconvenient. Just make Ra more scared. No matter.

Drive slower. Open door. Whoosh noise. Now lots of gunfire outside, very loud, very clear. Some aim at home. But home is muscle, it take. Plink, plink, plink, like puny hailstones.

We drive by garnet. I snatch out hand and pluck from Earth. Mine now.

No.

Ra’s now.

I put car on cruise control. Walk back in home. Give to Ra as she sits on Egyptian cotton sheets of bed. Only thing I dare let my Egyptian goddess wife sleep on. She looks honest. It confuses me.

I give her garnet.

Behind us, crater that unearthed garnet explodes.

“Look, Ra! I save for you.” I smile.

She smiles too. Her voice is fragile. Confusing. “Yes. You did.” She whispers. “And not for the first time.”

Is referring to rock? Is many rocks I save for you.

She just laughs to herself.

So I’m wrong, but still make her happy.

Anything to make best wife happy.

We drive to battleside of Universe City. Less trenches. More clever. More cover. Dug in. They do not shoot at van.

I am famous. In old world, reputation is worth weight in gold. In Husk? Worth much more.

I honk horn. Beep beep-beep beep, beep. Is home sing “Shave and a haircut”.

Wait.

Bang bang! Is gun say “Two bits.”

We do business!

I follow gunshot. Find bunker covered in camouflage and dirt. Not just as much heap of reinforced concrete as could make muscle. Harder to shoot.

Well.

Not to satellite. Satellite sees all. But don’t tell customer. Bad business.

Is egghead walks out first. Egghead leader wearing general’s reinforced labcoat, blast goggles. Dork. He is young, too. Still sandy blonde. Garbed in space-age materials. Yawn. Let muscles be armour? You do not have muscles. All in brain.

Brain is well and good. But I have Ra. Much better.

“Prattle? I might have known you’d show up again.” Egghead scoffs. Many other men around but hide behind bunkers and walls and foxholes and dugouts, like rats. No want get shot by Metro.

Wussies.

I say, instead; We have done business before, yes? Then you know I am honest man. Do good business.

He looks unimpressed by that. But he hands out...

Hrrrk!

Is amber! Beautiful rock-that-is-not-a-rock!

“A symbol of partnership. I know how fond you are of these trinkets. We’ve lost sniper support. Seems they finally figured out how to spot us. Never have been before. You might be invaluable to us finding out how. People trust you.”

Ra! Ra! Look! Is amber! Is amber! Is beautiful!

Goddess wife slinks out of van, like breathtaking vision. Elegance and grace in ivory dress. No bloodstains, even! “It sounds like a prostitute, darling. Why this, hrrm?”

Because is sap that gets more beautiful with age! Older it gets, more amazing it gets! Holds much history!

“Ah.” Ra’s eyes sparkle with mischief. She is cheeky one. “Just like you, then, my love?”

You use my line back at me! Oh, ho ho, is clever wife, my best wife.

“Best wife?” The egghead giving me amber chunk raises eyebrow. Is spectacular effort behind goggles. “You have others?”

No, no, I explain myself. Is my only wife, but is still best wife in all Pandemonium. Goddess.

“I see.” He says gravely. Is lie. He thinks I’m soft in head. Is good for business they think I’m idiot. I talk different, yes, and might have ideas slower, but is like concept of inertia. Much mass takes longer to get to speed, but once there, cannot stop.

He does not know I have already won battle before begun.

Have you read Sun Tzu? I ask.

“I have. Very interesting. Not sure how many of his ideas translate to a modern battlefield, though, beyond the common sense stuff. What, did you think you could sell me a book that would turn the tide of battle?”

This I only think: No, no. You read, but you not think. Apply only to war, not to business. Very smart men too clever to realize when stupid.

Ra! Careful to listen, now.

“Yes, love?” Intrigue in her voice. Clever men here think I say this because I am stupid, and my wife is only assistant. But Ra is always careful to listen.

Fools.

Today is good day for business. We must be close to our new friend here, yes?

“Ah, yes. We do not wish to appear lazy, do we?”

That is my girl.

I look at egghead. Still has not cracked.

I should sell him Sun Tzu. Make him read again. He missed something important in the first chapter.

We must appear close.

For we have been very busy.

Ra! Go to house and find Special Something. Open inventory.

She comes back with big green military crate. It opens. Hermetically sealed, so it makes great whoosh like door. Reveals super weapons.

Is small energy cannons. The Myron Special.

Full auto. Rate of fire cannot be measured. Like green-blue hellfire. Solid glow of Cherenkov radiation in a steel box with long, thick antenna. Scorch landscape. Only weighs few dozen kilograms each: This I say lifting one of each with muscled arms.

The egghead's eyes widened. "Where... where did you get these? I was just going to ask for espionage work, but this..."

No matter. Not important. Maybe fell off back of truck. But now in best truck, my truck, for sale. You want? You buy, very cheap, good price. Unlike loyalty.

Prattle’s loyalty can be bought by no man.

Only earned by one woman. Not for sale.

“Alright. What do you want?”

All your guns.

Egghead goggles from behind goggles. “What?”

Yes. You heard.

A soldier scowls. He is only wearing kevlar bowtie. Sergeant of Universe City forces. “We don’t know if he’s telling the truth, General.”

I laugh. Ha ha ha. They want demonstration?

There? You see mountain? You see mountain where you keep ammunition?

“How did you know--”

Trade secret. Now watch.

I aim one gun at mountain and pull trigger. I count to three. Now there is tunnel bored into mountain. The tunnel stops at a concrete wall, still melting, with the man-big tunnel covered in glass and obsidian walls. Ra! Ra-- oh. She is already getting obsidian chunks.

Is black and sharp. Just like best wife.

I turn to general. I say: Is nigh infinite ammunition in this weapon. Fires for very long time. You know this.

He knows this.

So why not give ammunition you no longer need?

He glares at me.

“Give him what he wants.”

“But general--?!”

“That is a direct order, soldier.” General glares at me. I smile. “These things could win us the war. We’ve been looking for the gluon gun prototypes for years.”

“I improved them. Much better now.” I declare.

The general glares at me harder. “You tampered with unique, ancient technology... because you thought you could make it better? Do you even know what a gluon is?”

Is particle that mediates strong nuclear force. Helps stabilize atomic nuclei. Very dangerous in wrong hands. So I put in your hands. I trust you, yes?

He looks surprised. I stop smiling. I am no fool.

I take ammunition first. Then give you weapons. Then you give me your guns. Yes? I need trailer though. Big trailer.

Good business is made, but still I am angry.

Ra gives the dork men the weapons for me. She smiles and is very gracious. Even puts gloved hand to general’s cheek. Whispers sweet nothingness into his ear. Implies I am but a fool. She is a good wife, best wife.

I put home in cruise control as it drives back to Metro forces. Don’t even aim for potholes Ra looks at me in concern. Honest face, it still scares me.

“Love?”

I try to end war. Have to smile in dumb smug face while give tools to do so. I try to do good business.

Ra opens copy of book: The Art of War for Executives. “All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.”

Yes. You know quote. You are very clever wife.

“You wanted to appear close when far away. But you couldn’t hold up to it. Why? Usually you do so enjoy business.”

I am no fool. I may talk funny, but I am no fool. Just because I have big muscles does not make me meathead.

“I know, love.” She leans over, nibbles my ear. Is lovely. Less angry, more melty. “But I had to flirt with that smug, degenerate bastard to make up your slack. I did not enjoy that.” Fingernails massage back of muscular neck, and all is well again. “He was a pompous buffoon.”

Yes.

“Now hurry up and take those slaver fucks for all they’re worth.” She spits.

Ra! Such filthy language. Naughty girl.

“Aren’t I just?” She smiles at that. But the smile does not stop spreading. It’s in her eyes now and... oh, no, that is not a joy smile.

Oh. That is a look I like. Yes.

Cruise control on. The Egyptian cotton demands company. I must attend to my best wife.

Much love.



But it ends too soon. We are back at frontlines.

Well.

We were always between them. Frontline depending on whose gun barrel you’re facing down.

Semi trailer behind caravan means less pothole fun. Bad for its suspension. Less fun. But critical for plan.

Cherenkov radiation scorching much of Metro sides. Kroosh!

Much sadness. I did this. Courteous of customers not to aim for home.

They would not like to be enemies of Prattle.

Too late.

Secret truth revealed. I do not like Universe City. They are cruel and mean. Did not treat my frontal lobe damage because I was too interesting broken. Grudge. Ra does not like Metro. She has unpleasant history there. I would pay anything for best wife. She already paid much to Metro.

She appears to have put the garnet I plucked from the battlefield into a necklace. Wearing it around neck. When did she do this? Where did she find time?

I ask.

“Trade secret.” She replies.

My heart is strongest muscle of all, and it beats for her.

I find old man with eye patch.

The plinking of hail rises! Bah. They shoot at me now, not around. Why?

I lean on horn. Shave and a haircut?

The firing stops. Two more hail-plinks: Two bits. I open door. Whoosh. Ra does not look worried now. This is all according to scheme.

Old man with eyepatch storms up to me. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?! You drive over there, we think you’re scoping shit out for us. You come back and we’re being fucking atomized and the only thing different is that you got involved. What--”

I look at him levelly. I say: Yes. Now have two super-death weapon, yes? But no more anything else. I bought it all.

“-- the... what?”

Yes. You heard. I point to semi trailer. I bought all stockpile in this battle. Not whole war, no. But enough.

“But... you...”

And super death weapons overheat, yes? Hard to aim. Much death, much destruction, but only two.

Old man is flummoxed. Processing information. Am I with him or against him?

Yes.

“So... you’re selling us all their weapons?”

No. No, no, no. All this? This is all mine now. No. Now I buy all your weapons, but give you bigger death weapon.

“You’re shitting me. So you expect me to just--” he sputters and splurts and looks for right words. I may talk funny, but I do not mispeak. He fumbles. I do not smile on outside. I wear mask, like Ra teaches me.

No. I expect nothing of you. I only make business. You may haggle. But that is my offer.

“... what sort of death weapon, then?” He asks with a sigh.

You remember touch screen, yes?

“Yeah. Real piece of work that was too. Those grenades might have come in useful ‘bout now, though.”

Yes, they would have. But now I want everything else. Touch screen has other part I not tell you. Big red button. Swords of Damacles. Drops tungsten rods from space.

Not spy satellite. Aiming reticle.

Old man stares at me a bit longer. His jaw drops open. Behind us, man is evaporated by a beam of green-blue light. I do not laugh. Is no longer funny when is my fault.

“Holy shee-et, son. Whole time we’ve been fighting them, maybe we ought to have been fighting you.”

Oh yes. Make enemies of me.

Be in for bad time.

Ra puts hand on my muscled arm. Calms me.

She is good woman.

She is best wife. Much love.

Now I smile. “All your weapons, mine. All my weapon? Yours. Ammunition first. Then I hand you weapon. Then you hand me last weapons. We part ways, good business. Best deal you get all day.”

He smiles like a shark. Offers a hand to shake. I feel Ra’s hand grip on my arm as I shake it. Is firm, is sacred, the business handshake. I do not try to crush his hand, nor him mine.

We do good business.

Another trailer hitched to back of home. The tank engine grinds now. I must drive around holes in ground and trenches. Smooth. Is sad. No more two-wheeling potholes. No more fun for Ra. Suspension can take this though.

I watch as a fiery sword from heaven itself pierces sky and falls down on place where Dorks no longer are. They are not fools and have moved since my leaving. First sword aims at bunker I revealed to Old Man, now satellite needs to load new munition. Take time. No casualities, but very spectacular.

Moving gluon guns also takes time, much hiding. Cannot reveal self yet, not until good shot.

Stalemate.

Biggest weapons of all battle, maybe of all war, I have given to them. Now useless. Cannot fire satellite until radiation gun fires, cannot fire radiation gun for fear of satellite.

Ra laughs. “Zugzwang. More chess than Mutually Assured Destruction, but elegant nonetheless.”

German words? In war? Bah. No place. Too elegant, like my Ra.

Now I sit in center of battlefield with trailer and wait.

I pull out weapon bought from Metro soldiers. Grenade launcher revolver.

I fire up, counting my time. I only need five rounds to make business call.

Bang bang-bang bang, bang.

Shave and a haircut.

Now Ra and I wait, and they come.

What they do not know is that the missiles cost extra. What they do not know is that I improved the radiation weapons my way.

I did not sell them extra. I did not speak of what improvements.

Ambassadors from both sides approach. I watch with binoculars. They make the slow walk, as neither have homes to take them here. I laugh. I have best house.

The eggheads send a man with a radio. Metro sends a man with a signal box.

The general speaks through the radio. “We would like to make a deal, Prattle. You said you were an honest man.”

Yes. A lie. Paradox.

The radio crackles.

Signals flash from Metro. The signallers slowly interpret from codebook.

“Ask of weapons, stop. Buy some back, stop. Resupply could take days, stop. Never be able to explain this, stop. For god’s sake don’t read that to him, stop. Oh, ah, scratch that, sir, I guess?”

“No. I no sell.”

The radio crackles. “Why don’t we just shoot you, then, and take what is ours back? What’s stopping us? What then?”

All sales permanent. No refunds. Unless you wish to threaten the muscles of Prattle? Wish to make of him an enemy?

“His co-ordinates locked in, stop. Satellite primed on target, stop. Hold position, stop. Oh, uh, sir, he really will fire on us. Please do what they ask. I... I have a family, sir.”

Me too. Is here, is best wife. You threaten her, you make of me an enemy. You also wish to be enemies? Wish to harm me with my own weapons?

From the radio: Yes. From the signaller two flashes. Yes.

Well.

It is time for the Bad Things to Happen. Fire at will.

Static from the radio. The signaller falls to his knees crying. Wuss.

Nothing.

No radiation. No death from the heavens. No bullets or whizzes or silence.

The battlefield is silent and peaceful.

I have bought peace by selling war. Magic trick. Best magic trick. I cannot teach, you can only learn.

“The weapons are broken!” “Satellite not responding, stop.”

Yes. I put killswitch in weapons. Satellite now only screen. Radiation gun useless box. Cannot fix, I know you would try, eggheads. I will not talk to your soldiers anymore. Good men. They are not my enemies this day. You, come here, talk to me where you may see my muscles.

I rip off my shirt.

I will fix your weapons. We will talk of apologies. Both of you. I know you have no holdout weapons. Ra checked. She is good like that. Even your holdout weapon, Egghead general. My wife did not feel you up because she thought you had better muscles.

Best wife.

And so they come. Like shamed dogs, heads hung low. General taking men with wheelbarrows with him, for they do not have the muscles to lift weapons. Fools. Old Man walking with screen in hand. He comes alone. Lone wolf. Solemn. Would still kill his own men, but would die alone if asked. Proud.

I consider pitying him, but look again at Ra. She is my garnet. I know from where I plucked her.

No.

I save pity for others.

This is only business.

Ra?

“Yes, my love?”

They come. Inventory. You know what this time.

She grins, beautiful even now.

General. Old Man. Is good we meet all at once. We once more do business. Useless metal to you now. Sell me that, and I give you weapons worthy of squabbling babies.

The Old Man looks amused. The general, furious. He speaks first, in anger. “I have an army, and--”

“He’s won, general. Just business.”

“I will smite you too, soon, you old bastard.”

Old man looks unamused. “Squabbling baby weapon, you say, sir?”

Still he treats me with respect. I cannot hate. He gets first choice.

The superweapon back for this.

Ra holds out the armoury for these baby men.

You want fight war? I have rock, best rock, I sell to you! Good price, very cheap. Best deal you get all day.

They stare at me together in mute horror. The general starts laughing, hard.

“You can’t be serious? This? This is what y--”

He does not finish. I have the touch screen in my hand. He has taken quartz stone. Is harder and sharper than it looks.

“Like you, my love.” Ra finishes my thought without me saying it. Much love between us.

General Egghead finds out the truth of this first-skull.

Ra takes the wheelbarrows as the soldiers grab more stones. I look in horror and the amber is gone. No! Not my- Ra looks at me cheekily. Is in her cleavage. I must retrieve it later. Very much in love.

The baby men scrabble with rocks. Ra keeps the safety on as she fills them in inventory.

I pause for a moment. General lies bleeding from head wound as sergeants fight Old Man with rocks.

He has nice boots.

I take.

I leave them to their squabble, settling their dispute like men with muscles, as I drive off with all guns of battlefield and another nice pair of boots.

Today was good day for business.
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