AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He gives me the once over, probably to make sure I’m alright. I’m covered with bits of wheat sticking to my hair and clothing, but otherwise I think I’m all right.
“Are you injured?”
“No, I’m fine,” I say, brushing off his concerns. “Answer the question. What’s so strange about it?”
“The Rork hunting grounds are several hundred miles from here. It is strange that this one would range so far on its own volition.”
“Maybe it didn’t do it of its own volition, look.”
I point at the retreating Rork, who is nearly out of sight. I didn’t notice before because I was only looking at it from the front, but it has several black scorch marks on its flank.
“Those look like blasts from a plasma-based weapon.”
“So they are injuries inflicted by a sapient hand?” I ask. “Doesn’t that mean that this is sabotage?”
“I suppose so.” He sighs as he takes in the sight of the burning brewery. “I don’t see how it does us any good, though. The brewery is a total loss. We’ve lost the contest before the festival has even begun.”
“Oh no we haven’t,” I growl. I return to the house and pick up my com pad. Yarvok follows in my wake, asking a lot of questions but I don’t have the wherewithal to answer any of them.
“What are you doing?” he asks at last.
“I’m going to call the Erebus Collective representative on this planet, and I’m going to call the sheriff. No way was this a natural happenstance. I bet there’s a way to prove this was sabotage.”
“You really think they’re going to care? Surely they will just award the subsidy to Gordo.”
“Not if he’s facing criminal prosecution they won’t.”
I call up the sheriff first, and report what’s happened. The deputy I talk to is a bit incredulous, especially when I mention the Rork because of how far out of range the monster was.
But he eventually comes around and agrees to alert the sheriff.. even though I call the Erebus Collective rep second, she shows up first. She’s a lean, tall Alzhon chiphead with the silver eyes that speak of cybernetic augmentation.
“All right, let’s see this Rork of yours.”
“you can clearly see the tracks, Ma’am,” I say, pointing them out.
The sheriff is the next to arrive. He’s a human with a long handlebar mustache and he listens intently to our story.
“Those scorch marks were made by a Mark Seven XLR Advanced Munitions Dynamics model hunting rifle,” the sheriff asserts.
“How do you know that just by looking at them?” Yarvok asks.
“Because being the sheriff isn’t even my main gig. I run the Ammunation gun shop, too, and I’ve sold exactly one Mark Seven XLR Advanced Munitions dynamics model hunting rifle in the last six months.”
“Who did you sell it to?” I ask.
His jaw sets hard.
“Chadd Gordo.”
“That son of a bitch,” Mylar spits on the ground. “He set us up so he could get the contract.”
“I don’t think so,” says the EC rep. “I have the power to disqualify him from the running.”
I feel intense relief flow through me.
The sheriff heads off to Gordo’s prefab house to arrest him, only to find our enemy is nowhere in sight.
It looks like he packed up and left in a hurry. His hover car is missing. So the sheriff does what only comes naturally to him.
