PASSION FOR TINION (WIP Novel 120,000 words)
© Cupideros, October 21, 2006
Your enemy will seek to press down upon you like a heavy stone.
You act like water, persistently, drip by drip wearing away the rock.
---From Book Nine of the Collected 3,500 says of the Last Prophet CE.
CHAPTER 24: ROADWORK
© Cupideros, Saturday, April 25, 2009
RaydGalil felt good. He slept well. He figured out The UniViewer emitted a low grade electric magnetic pulse (EMP) knocking all the nanocameras offline for four hours. No doubt because Silth pondered many things. Did the Universal Raccoon in my living room actually see a UniViewer? Or was this another UFO technology sighting meant to put fear into Galens? What did RaydGalil do, really do during those other hours before the nanotechs came back online. One Universal Raccoon in each room can not catch everything.
This was RaydGalil second two-week vacation from the base. He got up without changing his oversized World Cup soccer shirt from two years ago and his black jogging pants. In his bare feet, he went to the kitchen and retrieved the large feather blue duster and went to work. He started in the living room. He swiped down the walls and upper corners, side corners and ceiling in less than five minutes. He grinned. Persistence. I’ll show them persistence, RaydGalil thought silently. Silth will need at least two hours to replace 50% of their nano body magnet spritz. The other 50% matching my height can’t be done unless I leave the house. I don’t intend to leave the house. Not for three days at least.
He did this to each room. It was over in less than twenty minutes. . He decided to swipe any place he would sit on an as-you-go basis. He expected Silth to find more places to spritz their annoying body magnet dust. He would be persistent like water, like the Last Prophet CE said.
RaydGalil wasn’t much of a religious man. Not until he saw Lucky’s words about the tiny dust body magnets aiming at him pushing and pulling his lower back trying to give him a backache and stomach trying to make him feel sick. He’d swipe his hand over his lower back and stomach as reinforcement matching sure the annoying dust or spritz was transferred to his hands. Then RaydGalil smack his hands sending the nanotechs substance to the floor. Even the rug with body magnet dust placed here and there pulled down his feet. He’d swat away the dust or pick them carefully off his stomach and shoulders and throw them away. With Silth spritzing the walls and his chair and bed, RaydGalil decided to secretly believe in God. He had a copy of the Prophet CE’s Last 3,500 saying somewhere. He began searching for the book when he received a telephone call.
“Hello.”
“Hi solider,” said the colonel’s voice. “Sorry to steal a day of your vacation, but I need to in the office pronto.”
Silently, RaydGalil cursed. “Yes sir. Be there in thirty minutes.”
RaydGalil hung up the telephone and prepared to leave. He opened his front door to see three smiling road repairmen. He walked up to them in his army uniform.
“Good Morning Solider,” said the stooping road repair guy. He stopped pulling out his measuring tape and said, “I want to thank you for protecting our great country. There’s no great country like ours, promoting freedom, and choices in all Tinon.”
“Thank you, Sir,” replied RaydGalil. “I see your doing some service for the country too.”
“Fire crew here last night said they noticed your sidewalk wasn’t level with the street across the way.” He threw out his metal measuring tape like he was fly-fishing and placed it into the curb gutter.
The other repairman to his right orange stripped jacked and orange pointed to the other curb. “We’ll be fixing this right away, Solider. Even things up,” and road crew guy winked at RaydGalil. “Don’t you worry.”
“How long?”
The first road repairman stood up again, and said should be four inches on this side. Only three inches and a quarter, Bob.” He turned to RaydGalil, “About two weeks. Lots of banging as we jackhammer the old concrete up, pouring down new.” He shrugged. “Can’t be helped.”
The second roadman pointed to his buddy. “We’ll be replacing this entire sidewalk, way back,” he squinted to the stop sign up at the corner. “To that stop sign. Good thing is you’ll be at work when we’re working, Solider.”
“Actually, I’m just starting my two week vacation.”
“Ah Gosh, Solider.” The first repair man put away his measuring tape, pulled out a piece of chalk, and wrote something on the sidewalk. “Really can’t be helped.”
“Regulation, you know are like orders for a solider.”
“Whoever did such sloppy work should be fired,” RaydGalil responded.
“He’s experiencing the front lines now.” Said the second guy leaning into his truck, still facing RaydGalil.
RaydGalil got into his car and slowly pulled out as the smiling road crew guys waved to him. RaydGalil reluctantly waved goodbye back.
“Do you think he recognized us?” said the repairman with the measuring tape.
“Nah. Are you kidding.” He laughed and reached into the truck for a jackhammer to rip the sidewalk. “We looked like firefighters one day.” He turned back to face his buddy. “Today, we’re road repairmen.”
Measuring tape guy lifted his road hat higher on his forehead. “Camouflage authority uniforms fool everyone.”
“I don’t know about you, but my uniform came from City Works Union 313.”
“Fucking liar, Joe.”
“SILTH employees never lie, Frank.”
"I rotate."
"Flying Frank. Traveling all over Galan, Gian. You guys have it easy."
"How so?"
"Us locals have to watch our victims die, become jobless, homeless, driven into despair, or into the acceptable arms of the DVSM leeches."
Frank shrugged. "Yeah, but when you guys can't understand a person--"
"You mean how to destroy them--" interrupted Joe.
"Like I said. We flyers or rotators come in and try new things to push the spy-prey over the edge. We're the one's who finish the job." He stared at Joe. "We see plenty of demises of people, organizations, corporations and countries." He took out his electronic note pad, type in work schedule in progress. "Been here two months. I'll be in Balxin tomorrow."
"Been a local for 20 years." Frank wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. "Let’s do this. Tear up the sidewalk. Sprinkle it with nanotechnology. Every morning or might-be-bad guy goes to work, he’ll feel heavy and tired as a 90-year-old man who misplaced his cane.”
Frank laughed. “You mean son-of-a-bitch.”
“My mom's in SILTH.” Joe tested the jackhammer’s pounding sound and stopped. He gave a big oil slick smile. “Thanks for the compliment."
end chapter 24
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