Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Nexus: Octopied, Page 3

Nicolas Wilson

that more likely than not it was under several tons of squid tentacle. I could see enough pieces of pistol-shrapnel floating around my shins to know that I wasn't piecing humpty dumpty back together—which was probably just as well, since it was never going to fire again.

  Then I realized my only exit was blocked by the squid carcass—or octopus carcass, I guess, since it didn't have a beak. It was definitely too large to move. But when I shoved it, I noticed there was give to it. I took a few moments taking deep breaths, to saturate my lungs with air. Then I pushed myself between the rocky wall and the squid; without my mask, I had to face the squid to keep the rocks from cutting me up.

  It was slow-going. My feet kept getting caught in its skin. I felt panicked, because I didn't know how deep the cavern was, or how much more squid there could be.

  I did one undercover mission while coming up through the security ranks where a four-hundred pound smuggler gave me a sloppy, tongue-heavy lap dance. This was worse, if only because in that case I only felt like I might be smothered—here, it was a very real possibility.

  And I couldn't shake the idea that maybe the squid was playing opossum, waiting for me to get into the water where it would have a clear advantage.

  I broke free from the rock, and despite myself let out a little sigh of relief. Then I remembered I had an indeterminate amount of island overhead between me and the air, and I started kicking for all I was worth. The acid content of the water meant I couldn't open my eyes to see.

  When I thought I couldn't hold out any longer I pushed for surface; I was in that odd overlap between animal panic and human exuberance. My knuckles scraped against the rock.

  I thought about the Nexus, the life I'd built there, the life I planned to live out there. I kicked off the rock and swam harder, farther.

  I swam so long I realized I'd lost track of which direction I was swimming—I think I was angling down. I let out a few bubbles from my mouth, and they traced up my cheek. I followed them up to the surface.

  I wasn't going to have enough left in me for another burn. It was air or drowning this time.

  My hand broke free from the water and I gasped shallowly. Nasty as this planet's air was, I was happy to have it, and spent a couple minutes treading water while I caught my breath.

  I called up the comm box location on my HUD. I wasn't surprised to find there was some ocean between me and them. The practical side of me said I should cut my losses, and head back to my pod and out of here. The part of me that was incensed that they were going to let a giant squid date-rape me wanted to burn their shitty little village to the ground.

  I swam for their coast.

  They met me on the shore, like before. Only this time they were armed with little spears.

  I didn't mince words, or posture; I used a mixed martial arts roll to disarm one who got too close. Having a hard outer shell made them harder to kill—but it also made them crap at maneuvering. They weren't warriors.

  Half of them dropped their spears rather than appear hostile. The others were clearly cowering. If it was possible, I pitied them while really wanting to wipe their species out. “You knocked me out and left me in an octopus monster’s rape den; I’d feel pretty righteous about anything I do to your people this side of genocide.”

  “The beast is dead?” One of them whispered, full of surprise.

  “If you little bastards start singing, ‘Ding dong, the beast is dead,’ I will put genocide back on the table.”

  I'm not sure how, but I recognized the little shit who heckled me earlier. I leveled the spear at him, and he dropped his. “You.” And I'm pretty sure he pissed himself, too. “I’ve seen a florgh-bak’s hindparts—up close—and I am at least four times sexier than that.” For some reason, that didn't feel like enough. “Say it.”

  “You are at least four times as beautiful as a florgh-bak’s hindparts,” he repeated. He nearly vomited, but choked it back down. I told myself it was because of my fierceness and beauty, and not because his species vomited when lying.

  “Please,” their Ambassador said, moving to the front of the group, “don't harm him.” He produced the contract, already signed. “We had no choice,” he said.

  “You could have chosen not to try to feed me to a tentacled monster.”

  “We kept the florgh-bak fed, or it came to our village and feasted. It was you, or one—and frequently more—of us.”

  “On principle, that means I ought to murder one of you.” I pointed the spear at their Ambassador, at what would have been his throat if he were human.

  He sighed, and bowed his head. “A small price,” he said, “to free my people.”

  “And you did already shoot me,” one of them near the back said. He was short enough I hadn't seen him, but now that he was shoving through, I recognized him as the bastard that cannon-balled onto me. Him I did kind of want to stab a little.

  But I didn't really want to hurt anybody, so I dropped the spear at the Ambassador's feet and tore the contract out of his hand. I wanted the hell away from this planet, his crappy people, and a whole host of smells that were still somehow worse than the body odor I'd accrued on the trip here.

  The stink of this planet actually made me miss my BO.

  I remembered to put the contract into a waterproof pocket, then I dove into the water. “Computer? Diagnostics on the pod.”

  “Functional. Systems are ready for launch.”

  In a little over an hour, I was out of orbit and plotting an intersect course with the Nexus. The ship not completely failing meant I didn't have to kill Bill, which was good. The list of people I had to murder was already long enough as it stood.

  Nic feeds off your thoughts and attention. Feed Nic by leaving a review at your favorite e-tailer, or emailing him at [email protected]. Additional contact methods and stalking opportunities available at NicolasWilson.com.

  Other Works by Nic

  Available Novels

  Homeless

  Humanity has been decimated by a violent new species that nests in any enclosed spaces, and slaughters everything unfortunate enough to come indoors. Mitch is a 'Wall Banger', an explosives expert who 'cracks' buildings, exposing them to air and sunlight to kill these invasive organisms. When a friend of Mitch's asks for help tracking down a murderer, Mitch recruits Cori, a 'Shadow Runner' who races through infested spaces to gather supplies and saleable loot. But this terrifying contagion isn't the only danger, as their world descends into a harrowing marathon against oversupplied militias, murderous gangs, self-righteous survivors, and all-out starvation.

  Banksters

  It’s a profitable time to be a bastard, one of the most profitable in history. Mark Dane intends to take full advantage of that and be the bastard at the top- if he can make his way past his fellow predators, through a concrete jungle of murder, sex, greed, and revenge. Ride shotgun with a sociopathic social climber, as he lies, cheats, and manipulates his way through the ranks of the fourth largest financial firm in the country, and revel in the bastard on bastard violence that follows.

  The Necromancer’s Gambit (The Gambit #1)

  The sheriff of Portland, OR’s magical community is known as Knight. His bosses run the mage government, called "the Gambit." On a rainy night, he recovers a mutilated body, tainted with dark magic and dumped at a local haunt. When the corpse is identified as a close associate of the Gambit, it threatens the safety of the community he protects, and those he cares about most. As the fragile peace amongst the city's magic-wielding factions disintegrates, Knight must track down a cadre of murderers before his friends are picked off, one by one- with each death used to strengthen the spells cast against the Gambit.

  Nexus (The Sontem Trilogy #1)

  Captain Anderson Grant of the corporate starship Nexus boldly explores alien worlds (and occasionally the alien women, too). Grant and his crew struggle with the company’s version of manifest destiny, as well as its attempt to coerce them through military force. They be
gin to question whether the largest threat to their mission and their safety will come from outside the Nexus or from the company that respects them more for their genetic possibilities than their individuality.

  Dag

  Dagney Morgan, a sarcastic Department of Agriculture employee with an affinity for paperwork, has a chance run-in with a farmer covered in toxic chemicals, and walks away with a genetically modified baby, along with the seeds of a conspiracy. Before she can learn how to change a diaper, Dagney and her makeshift family are thrown into an international web of corruption and intrigue, and hounded by murderous, artificial soldiers. Their only chance at survival is to expose a plot that stretches into the highest echelons, and could start both an international arms race, and a revolution.

  Whores

  In the near future, women's rights are eroding. Those who buck the system are hunted as gender criminals by the authorities when they're lucky, and rogue militias when they aren't. Alex Harmon, a newly minted gender crimes detective tasked with bringing recalcitrant 'feministas' to justice, pursues a woman cast into a resistance group by circumstance. The tactics of his peers and growing violence force him to question his goals and allegiances, as he finds himself dragged into a brutal guerrilla war for the minds and bodies of a generation of women.

  Selected Short Stories Collections ebooks

  Ghost Dust

  Cinderella