вторник, 3 март 2020 г.


Eurasian Gambit — Sci-Fi Crime Novel and Detective Fiction
(by S.T. Fargo)

Eurasian Gambit—a science-fiction detective novel (crime fiction)

Read this online book for FREE! › Almost every criminal plot on this planet revolves around money or sex (or both) and it applies to the wicked case of this private eye too. It’s a cross-genre sci-fi story—crime fiction with a political twist, alien invasion novel, and detective sci-fi combined—which our world alone is way too small to contain.

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“It was the middle of March and the weather totally sucked. Streets had turned into rivers, the water following their curves as if the entire city were some weird urban canyon. Here and there, puddles were almost as big as Hudson Bay, and parks looked like Louisiana swamps. The heavy wind made raindrops whip people’s faces like small daemon tails. Winters here are not what they used to be. It’s all different now, probably because of the Chinese: they fucked up global climate about a decade ago with their large-scale industrial revolution and then the country disintegrated, leaving the rest of the world to deal with the consequences.

I was sitting in the chair in my miniature office on Lacuna Drive 85, a glass of White Bear whiskey in my hand, my feet up on the desk, watching a muted, portable TV set placed next to my shoes. The set was so close that I could have easily kicked it down if I had stretched my legs a little bit more but I couldn’t care less. Firstly, the TV set was very old and, therefore, insanely cheap. Ironically, it was made in China. The second reason I didn’t care was that even if it fell, it still wouldn’t have hit the floor since my office was only just bigger than the desk itself. There was simply not enough room for the device to fall all the way!

For the sake of being precise, I should mention here that my office was exactly two hundred and thirty-five by two hundred and forty-five centimeters. It was the smallest one in the whole building and probably in the whole of Greenland too. I was not even sure it was a good idea I had rented it in the first place; partly because I was not using it much, but also because of the money—I just didn’t have it!

In order to be even more precise, I should note that I never have enough money actually. Moneyless is my natural state of being and sometimes I wonder whether God created me just to serve as a byword—so as people could say, “Poor like a Murphy”! On the other hand, I’m not entirely sure it was God who created me anyway. I’d always doubted it, but after aliens turned up, it felt more than ridiculous to keep speculating on such a thing. Their appearance made a total mess of my head and upset the fragile system of beliefs I’d had before that!

From somewhere in the depths of the desk drawers, the telephone suddenly gave a hollow ring and startled me from my thoughts. I slowly put the glass down and reached to open the right lowermost drawer. I pulled out only the receiver to say a brief “hello” into it.

At first, no one answered. I could just hear heavy breathing at the other end of the line. Then someone cleared their throat and cautiously asked, “Mr. Mellrow, the PI?””




Tags: science-fiction crime novels, sci-fi detective novels, crime books, detective fiction, detective sci-fi, private eyes.

неделя, 1 март 2015 г.


BYE-BYE, BRIAN

(a mini-story by S.T. Fargo)


TV ANNOUNCER:
And now about Somangola: as we’ve said earlier this morning, the situation there is critical now. Hundreds and hundreds have been reported dead for the past twenty-four hours, including fifty-three foreign journalists, hunted down and mercilessly killed by the provisional government. Our correspondent Brian Johnson is right there, in the middle of the heat, but we won’t reveal his exact location for his own safety. He’ll tell us now what the latest news is…uuhh…Hello, Brian!

BRIAN:
Hi, Michael! As you’ve just said, the situation here is absolutely critical! The provisional government of general Mbamunda is responsible for at least one thousand deaths, including over fifty foreign journalists. I’m hiding on the second floor in a building in the capital Mgula now but even from the inside, I could distinguish eighty-three different types of screaming coming from three different directions! These are probably people that have been tortured by the government forces, which, by the way, also try to impose information blackout.

TV ANNOUNCER:
Are you…are you really capable to distinguish eighty-two different types of screaming, Brian? Because I think it’d be amazing if you—

BRIAN:
Eighty-three, eighty-three! And I guess they easily could have been ninety-three but, unfortunately, the National Opera is right behind the place where I’m hiding so—

TV ANNOUNCER:
Brian…Brian…be careful not to reveal—

BRIAN:
I mean the building is quite massive and it actually blocks me from hearing what’s happening in the south. All the streets in the capital are full of general Mbamunda’s soldiers and earlier in the day, they even came here looking for me but I managed to sneak into the fridge and they didn’t find me. I think they’re rather unlikely to come here again soon.

TV ANNOUNCER:
So, Brian, I guess the most important thing for you now is to escape. Have you got any plan prepared yet?

BRIAN:
Yes, I sure have! Tonight at nine-o-five, I’ve arranged a boat to wait for me on dock eleven at the city harbor. Her name’s Lucia and the boatman will take me to the other side of the border—over to Taxila—

TV ANNOUNCER:
Well, Brian, are you sure it’s safe to say…I mean isn’t it dangerous to reveal—

BRIAN:
Of course, it’s dangerous, Michael! Of course it is, but for the moment, I have no other option but this boat. Oh, and I almost forgot: my cellphone just broke so I’m now using the stationary telephone here in the building. The number is 0093 99 099, which is funny because the place I’m hiding in is also 99, Kusulu Street. You can get in touch with me for one final report tonight before I go. The entire building is empty so it’s perfectly safe to call.

TV ANNOUNCER:
Brian, Brian…please don’t reveal—

BRIAN:
Michael, I can’t talk anymore! I think I hear military personnel down on the ground floor! I need to go now and I’ll hide in the library this time because the soldiers might have come to check out the fridge, you know! I saw a very good hiding place between the second and the third row of shelves in the Classics section. I think I’ll try it! So bye-bye, Michael! I’ll get in touch as soon as I can!

TV ANNOUNCER:
Well…goodbye, Brian. I don’t actually think we’ll hear from you again but it’s been nice working with you. And now, other news: our correspondent revealed a massive fraud in a kindergarten on 33, South Street, here in the capital. It seems that an ounce has been shaved off every children’s portion of food every day and then the accumulated amount has been sold on the free market every month. Doris Witherspoon is on the street to tell us what exactly is happening and where the money from this filthy illegal deed goes.

DORIS:
What did you just say, Michael? Are you nuts?

TV ANNOUNCER:
Pardon me?

DORIS:
Are you out of your fu**ing mind?

TV ANNOUNCER:
I don’t understand, Doris!

DORIS:
You don’t understand? What's the matter with you, you fu**ing jerk?! How dare you mention my full name on the national fu**ing TV? My fu**ing kid’s in this kindergarten, you fu**ing moron!

TV ANNOUNCER:
Oh, I’m sorry, Doris! I didn’t know that! I’m so sorry!

DORIS:
You’re sorry? I cant just say Doris, huh?

TV ANNOUNCER:
I just don’t know what happened. I flipped out!

DORIS:
You sure flipped out, you idiot! My kid’s there, not yours! Do you know what it’s like to have a kid at this age? Do you know how hard it is to find a kindergarten these days? You, mother fu**ing s**t! You, damn imbecile! I wanna…I’m gonna…you little…you filthy…you stinky fu**ing di**head…jack**s…j**k off…SUCKER!

TV SCREEN:
zzz…zzz…zzz



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EURASIAN GAMBIT—sci-fi crime novel and detective fiction

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