Oddjobs 3: You Only Live Once by Heide Goody & Iain Grant

Author:Heide Goody & Iain Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Urban, Retail, Humor, Humour, Contemporary, Fantasy, Birmingham, Comedy
Publisher: Pigeon Park Press
Published: 2020-01-17T08:00:00+00:00

The uCab ride was no magical mystery tour. The ways of the Birmingham Venislarn had ceased to be at all magical for Morag and there was very little mystery in where they were going. The driver took them up through the A38 tunnels, round the labyrinth of roadworks by the old demolished library and on to the Cube.

The driver drew up outside the high rise, offered no explanation and asked for no payment. Morag went inside. The rain had not exactly stopped but it had paused for a breather at least. The concierge, both bald and hairy in the least likely of places, waved her to a waiting lift. As previously, the lift interior was more than half taken up by an August Handmaiden of Prein, the same one as before.

“We must stop meeting like this, Shala’pinz Syu,” Morag said.

“You should speak with greater respect,” said the Handmaiden.

Morag made a non-committal face and stepped into the lift with the creature.

“We have your souls,” she said. “Twenty-eight fraxasa. We will make the delivery tonight.”

The Handmaiden did not respond. She tapped for a floor, not the top floor.

“Not visiting Yo-Morgantus?” said Morag.

The Handmaiden did not speak until the doors were fully closed and the lift was moving. Then she said, “Yo-Morgantus despises weakness and yet he also revels in it.”

“Uh-huh?”

“You murdered my sisters,” said Shala’pinz Syu.

Morag, unavoidably close to the armoured spider-demon’s bulk, saw glistening beads of caustic saliva run along the creature’s underbelly.

“Only one,” she said. “Technically, the other was killed by Ingrid Spence.”

“You provoked them.”

“I did,” said Morag.

The lift opened onto a long corridor of apartment doors. Morag stepped out.

“Those of us who remain have sworn an oath to avenge their deaths.”

“That’s nice,” said Morag. “Left or right?”

“Are you not afraid?”

The Handmaiden emerged from the lift, unfolding into the corridor. Giant claws on patterned carpet. It seemed ridiculous and horrible.

“I’m not afraid,” said Morag.

Shala’pinz Syu tilted her carapace. “Apartment four-two-nine.”

Morag looked at the nearest numbers and headed down the corridor.

“I was afraid, for a while,” she said. “I was told I was going to be killed. The date of my execution was set and then… it didn’t happen.” She stopped in front of four hundred and twenty-five. “Something else happened instead. Shall I knock or do you have a key?”

Shala’pinz Syu faced the door (or, at least, presented one of its tortured baby faces to the door) and produced a swipe card.

“We will kill you,” said the Handmaiden.

“I don’t think so.”

The light on the door handle flicked to green and Morag went inside without invitation. It was, by Morag’s standards, a luxurious flat. The theme of glass, steel and neutral coloured surfaces that dominated the outside of the building extended here also. Beyond the large kitchen to one side was an open dining area and then a large living room with a sunken seating area. An L-shaped balcony wrapped around the corner unit. There was no one in the apartment and it had a still, unlived-in air.

“A place like this, you pay for the view,” said Morag.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.