The Guide by The Guide (mobi)

Author:The Guide (mobi)
Language: eng
Format: mobi

“You hungry?” I asked Suzie as she put on a wrist band toy that played different tunes depending on the color of the objects you pointed it at.

“Yeah.” Her enthusiasm deadened and a serious look came over her. “But… this place can’t have anything good. It smells like old socks.”

I laughed. “They’ll surprise you. Come on, last time I was here there was a great fry place overlooking the banks. We can watch all the different types of people that come here to hide things.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the point of hiding them?” she asked.

“Yeah, it kinda does. But its fun to people-watch.”

A few minutes later we sat on an overhead balcony eating large meat and potato based fry concoctions that I couldn’t pronounce. “I don’t get it,” Suzie said. “Half the people here are rich enough to own their own banks and the other half look like they can barely afford a bath; like that guy.” She pointed ostentatiously at a rather dingy individual as he shuffled along a darker wall. “He could be the reason this whole place stinks all by him self!” I didn’t know weather to gag or laugh, but she was right in either case.

A chill went down my spine. I didn’t even realize I had noticed them, but my subconscious picked up on the presence of the Silfon. They were approaching a little window on the outside of one of the banks with the title ‘Vault Storage and Valuable Protection.’ An original name, but there were so many little banks and locker companies all the good names must have been taken.

Suzie began counting the number of people she thought were too rich to be here on one hand and the number of people she thought were too poor to be here on the other. She used a strange base five counting system on each hand that somehow was working for her. I, however, watched the Silfon as they began arguing with the desk clerk.

The Silfon left his speaker on for normal speech, letting his translation computer overlay English atop the clicks and whistles of their aquatic octopi like mouths. It meant he wasn’t being polite. “Well I don’t care what sort of business, cultural, or Silfon-law claim you think you have on the contents of the box, you can’t have it. We have strict policies that only the box holder or the heir of their estate in the event of death may have access to a box taken out in their name. It’s not just my job on the line, man, it’s the reputation of Crypta. I’m not risking that over some freaky eight legged bully who thinks he’s got something coming to him that he doesn’t!” The clerk was mad now and he slammed a Growler onto the counter. The auto-shotgun may be Imperial in design and make, but the Poxians never passed up on a good item and it’d gained popularity all over Pox Space.

SKEEE!!!- The Silfon screeched, slamming one of its tentacle arm/leg things forward and speared the young man right between the eyes.

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