The Legend of Dan by Robert Wingfield

Author:Robert Wingfield [Wingfield, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Alternative Sci-fi, Sci-fi;Humor;Satire;Space, Opera
Publisher: Robert Wingfield
Published: 2019-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Notice anything?” Kara and Tom stood in the main street of a small industrial town in Lancashire. Tom scratched his head. There were people shuffling about, through knee-deep piles of plastic sheets, cigarette packets, FabSalwch and pizza boxes, and discarded black bags, which may have contained dog excrement. The people had blank stares, and were moving like zombies, with a mechanical precision, silently ignoring each other. Several of them had green fungus growing through rents in their clothing, others had bleached hair, falling out in handfuls, showing patches of grey skin. The air stank of death and corruption.

“The clothes are a bit different,” said Tom brightly, not believing what he was seeing, “but everything else appears normal.”

Kara shot him a scathing glance. “Come into this pub then.”

Tom was already halfway through the door, and kicking the litter back out into the street. “She’s paying,” he said to the bartender. He noticed that the man wore a uniform combining the styles of waiter and Consortium trooper. “Two of your best ales.”

They sat down in the deserted saloon. “Some of the trophies around the walls look like famous political people from my time. Those heads are an excellent likeness.”

“Yes, they are the heads of governments, which were cut off in the revolution the Consortium started a couple of centuries ago.”

“You mean they are real?”

“Why do you think this place is called the ‘Politician’s Head’?”

“I thought it was a cut above the average.”

“We will try The Fathers-of-the-Chapel Arms next.”

“Ugh, no thanks—this is bad enough.”

The publican interrupted, by insolently bringing two drinks to their table. “Thirty-five thousand dollars, you scum,” he said.

“Take my Galacticredit?” Kara passed him her card. He took it suspiciously to a machine on the bar, and swiped it over the surface.

A whirring chewing sound came from the machine. “Credit good,” it droned, and punched out a small piece of plastic, with a caption that said, “Please dispose of thoughtfully.”

“We don’t get many people in here from your part of the cosmos,” said the publican. “Are you here on business or pleasure?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Kara, and gave him a knowing look.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he muttered. “Hush hush, of course…” They exchanged a conspiratorial wink.

Tom tasted the liquid. “Ugh. That’s like a shag on a beach!” he spluttered. “Is this a ‘Sewaters’ pub?”

“Shag on a beach?” Kara raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, er, f’king near water.”

“Purer than any water you can get now,” said Kara. “Cleaner and better processed. This is about the best pint you can find anywhere on the planet.”

“What (on Earth) has happened?”

“This was all caused by OrcommNE—kind of complicated—do you really want to know?”

“It is, will be, was, my planet, so it might help.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Go on, please.”

Kara took a breath. “The organisation needed cheap labour to build their new range of self-aware home-help machines.”

“Yes?”

“Infiltrated governments in twenty-first century, and started increasing prices of most luxury goods, and applying so-called ‘stealth’ taxes to many others, including a wealth of speed cameras to extort cash out of anyone rich enough to travel.

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