In Media Res: The Atheist

Whew! I'm still putting the final touches to a couple of stories for Dean's anthology so I've been quite busy.

To kick myself into high gear, I got a page from gabe's book and tried writing a 15-minute exercise. Unfortunately, once I finished the exercise, I still couldn't finish the damn stories. Oh well. Anyway, here's something I came up with in the interim. (Idea courtesy of JP.)

To wit: in the near-future, governments around the world have banded together to outlaw hate crimes in order to stem the rising wave of terrorism and extremism. In response, a number of churches and religious groups have also formed their own alliances against what they thought was governmental persecution and harrassment.

However, people being what they are, there are still some who are not willing to give up one form of protest over another...

The night the Hate Police came for him, atheist bon-vivant Cigarette Boy stood at the dry-docks smoking as he watched torch-sparks fly in the construction of the latest super-mall liner ship, the Envious.

At first he had been distracted by the rows and rows of light-absorption parasols—which had been tracking the movement of the full moon—suddenly adjust one after another as if something had blocked their panels. His suspicions aroused, he glanced up.

By that time, three cyborgs had already landed lightly a few yards before him courtesy of a darkened levitating brig hovering above the docks. As two deployed to the sides, the lead cyborg approached him, its black electromagnetic pulse rifle pointed at Cigarette Boy.

The ‘borg said, “Cigarette Boy! You are under arrest!”

Cigarette Boy dropped his stick, stepped on it, and squinted through his spectacles at the ‘borg. He said, “Aye, that’s me. Who’s ‘at? What for?”

The ‘borg pointed it at him, “I am Sergeant Bravo, First Squad of the Hate Police. You are charged with hate crime # 2584-707, assault of a religious personage of the Pan Romano-Islamic Church, the First Premier Eldon Teresias.”

“Huh. I thought you only went after the churches. Never would ‘ave thought I’d register a full Hate Police ‘borg squad for pick-up.”

“Understand. We have no compunction to take you alive. As it stands, you have twenty-four outstanding warrants for spreading independence meme-viruses, broadcast hackings on general area networks, exhortations to violence against religious personages, attacks on religious centers and general mischief. Right now, a Leviathan Block Cannon on our brig is locked on you. This is your last warning.”

Cigarette Boy thought about it for a moment, lighting another stick with his radiation Zippo. When he finished, he peered at the ‘borg through the smoke and said, “Whatever you say.”

Bravo turned his head and addressed his men, “Units Delta, Echo. Proceed with the arrest with caution.”

The two ‘borgs strode forward, Echo taking out an electric-baton to hand while Delta held a tie-cord from his utility belt . When Delta reached for his arm, Cigarette Boy said mildly, “I wish you wouldn’t.”

There was a sudden bolt of azure lightning between the two of them and Delta was repulsed, sending him sliding flat on his back. When Echo tried to tag Cigarette Boy with the electric-baton, the ‘borg was slammed by another azure bolt against the far wall of a dock container.

“The subject is resisting! Units Alpha and Charlie, terminate code warranted!” buzzed Bravo into his frequency and swung his pulse rifle against Cigarette Boy. But it was too late: the ‘borg’s gun had exploded in a crackle of fire and flash.

When the smoke cleared, the remaining ‘borg was out of commission and Cigarette Boy looked up at the wobbling brig.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he said. Charlie looked at Alpha, who was manning the pilot seat. Alpha returned the look and nodded. Locking on target, Charlie fired the Cannon. The explosion that took out the brig also almost destroyed half of the gantry working on the super-mall. And by the time the reconstruction ‘bots managed the put out the fires on the burning liner ship, Cigarette Boy was long gone.

Bloody bastards, he thought, I told him he shouldn’t.

Heh. Writing this one was fun.