Junkyard Speedball - Chapter six

Junkyard Speedball - Chapter six

This is the sixth part of an updated version of the novella, Junkyard Speedball — a symbiot story, which was first written a couple of years ago and introduces a couple of characters that subsequently play major roles in Van Hallam’s Hellsborough Chronicles, as well as providing some insight into the region of The Dark Peak known as the netherlands.

Lomas

Today Jason, is going to be a very fine day of hunting.

Why's that then boss?

Pass me that dead tad there, said Lomas, indicating a flattened wetbreath. Because we now have our poison arrows, more fire power than any subnorm out there. They'll not know what's hit 'em. And with that annoying synth-cop Mold now out of the way, there's nothing to worry about.

He sliced into the tad's venom sac with the tip of an arrow, coating it with a fine film of poison, and did likewise with several others.

But boss, enquired Jason, surely a long range attack is not altogether consistent with your trade as a pest controller?

Oh, how so?

Well, don't you need to know that the target is both synth and insane before you can retire them?

I was right with the synth-cop and we took him out from range, with a gutterball! Wasn't I?! Hah! We're not in Hellsborough now, if you hadn't noticed! No, we observe, from a distance. We know that they're all loopy out here, we also know there's a hell of alot of synths roaming about, so fifty percent of the time we're right.

And the other fifty percent?

Are one hundred percent bio -- and wasterels, garbage, pissheads and unwants the lot of 'em -- and, none will be missed! My returns will still say SYNTH in big letters!

And no-one ever checks the palm prints.

Correct! They're not even missing!

But that's unethical, criminal.

In Hellsborough, sure, but we're outside city limits here, we're off limits! But, I'm only aiming to wound, ha! I like them better that way, without their symbiot! Crack-shot sir, crack-shot!

I think you've cognitised one too many boss.

Never! Ever! Say that again!

OK, boss, OK, it just makes me feel uncomfortable, that's all.

Tosh! Cognitisation is a drug and I'm, we're, addicted. You'll soon start moaning when we leave them behind. Better to keep them safe here in the museum, they like it here. A museum to biological humanity, a true work of art. The mental and the physical mixing through my work, pest control at its purest, music at its most vulnerable. Lomas stopped tipping the arrows and picked up his ukele, began tapping out a song that sombrely talked of time gone by and times to come, a song about a young man named John Shalesmoor and his travels through the world, or what was left of it. He sang about the solitude of Shalemoor's life and how he drifted from one life changing event to another, when all poor John wanted to do was have a steady job and provide for his family.

Probably ended up in the museum, said Jason as Lomas finished the song with a flourish.

Indeed. Anyway, that should have woken up the natives! How about a spot of sport my lad? Time to take this pest control malarky seriously, eh?!

Lomas collected up his pest controller's bag, crossbow and poison tipped arrows, kicked out the fire and after casting his eyes briefly over the museum, bounced out of the hollow in which his base resided. Comparatively heavily armed, Lomas had a confidence now greater than ever before, and he had never been shy when it came to the confidence business. Privately educated and of the noble caste, he was born for the pest control game, having a somewhat lowly opinion of lifeforms that didn't measure up to his own social standing; but cognitising was reaping a heavy toll on his sanity and that had been preciously scant to begin with. He scanned the area, looking for pests (as he preferred to call them -- victims to the rest of us).

From his vantage point, the place named Parkwood, he could see the far Eastern boundary of the junkyard at Longley with The Top beyond, where it butted up to the ancient fortified walls of Wincobank. There was a little activity, foragers mainly, they might make interesting quarries, but today he wanted to try his new tools out on something a little more unusual. He had in mind something new for his museum, a centre piece, something deliciously savage to show to his visitors when they finally came. He envisioned a mad king on horseback or a tax collector resplendent with money bags, or maybe a pregnant woman.

Yes, he thought, that would be a prize and a superb centre piece indeed. A bio female heavily pregnant with the spore, that would be a handsome addition! Ha!

And there must be one or two around here, chimed Jason, after survival, sex is their biggest instinct, in fact I wouldn't mind speculating that for a lot of them, it comes ahead of survival, proliferation of madness. There's a commune over there, look, he said, pointing to the left of Longley, an area known as Southey, I understand. Maybe we can pick one off from there; after we've done the necessary observation, obviously.

Come then, Jason, let us go and observe!

As they walked at a quick march, Lomas and Jason could feel the alpha waves of various fauna competing for their attention, they ignored them or told them to leave them alone, now was not the time, they were on a mission. A mission to Southey, the formidable Southey, one of the most ferocious areas of the whole junkyard, more dangerous than even the infamous Moonshine lane, but not because of rogue symbiots, solitary grizzlers, gnawmards and razor billed squawkwings, but because man, when in congregation with man, when lacking in mental stability was the most volatile of all the creatures on the surface of the Earth. Lomas's face formed into a charmingly maniacal smile, today, he chuckled, is going to be fun!

If you know anyone else that you think might find this interesting, then please forward this email to them :)

I have launched a new series of diary entries that I call “Pip Rippon — Stranger in a Strange Land”, in which I describe my struggle to survive as an immigrant in Hellsborough and The Dark Peak, and how I make ¢hits, and how you can use my knowledge to make money in the off-world. I think you’ll enjoy it, check it out here: Stranger in a Strange Land.

In other news, Hellsborough Chronicles book one “Dark Peak” is now available on Kindle and paperback.

If you can leave a review of Dark Peak on Amazon, I'd be more than grateful.

Hellsborough Chronicles book two “Darker Peak” is now being worked on — look out for early releases.

Cheers, until next time,

Pip :)