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Joe Spivey's blog

 
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Monday morning 7.30 AM

Joe tried to count heads while the crush of orphans forced and fought their way through the door into the ammunition factory. The older ones won of course. Bigger, stronger, and in most cases, meaner. But that was ok because it made it easier for Joe to spot the four faces he was looking for.

"Oi! Finny, One Tooth, Casper and Worms."

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Halloween Fantasy (part 29) 700ish years ago. Last bit.

The senator stared, blank faced, for a few seconds at the gaudy flyer then, with pointed deliberacy, pressed a point on his desktop and the image of Joe Spivey’s flyer, along with the grinning buffoon face of Kort Chorfaleo joined those of the two doctors in electronic limbo. The three images might still be on their faster than light journey through sub-space but they no longer took up the senator’s time, and that was the important thing. 

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Halloween Fantasy (part 28) 700ish years ago

Kort Chorfaleo mopped his brow with a large purple handkerchief. He was a big man, in a tight suit, under hot lights facing a man who, quite frankly, scared the hrakha out of him. The prevailing thought in his mind just now was ‘stick to the report, don’t get drawn’. 

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Halloween Fantasy (part 27) 700ish years ago

((Part 26 was missed but posted later.

It was thirty days later and many light years away. In one of the more profitable sectors of Imperial space, and Senator Geesh was hoping to get the day’s business out of the way before lunch. 

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Halloween Fantasy (part 25) 700ish years ago

In the darkness, silent spurts of shimmering blue-white flame erupted like tiny random geysers. Each fiery triangle lasting for less than a second of bright, purposeful life. Their brief existence coincidentally serving to illuminate enough patches of the dark blue hull to determine the half disc shape and size of the thirty metre wide space ship as it manoeuvred incrementally closer to the still invisible derelict somewhere in front of and below them.

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Safety Inspection Day

The noise slowly fades up into a quiet hubub and we find ourselves in the smokey interior of The Tap. It is evening, but not so late that alcohol fueled arguments have yet led to spilled blood or that errent spouses are starting work on their excuses for being late home. But it is late enough that the smell of food has pretty much given way to the smell of hops and cheap tobacco.

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Halloween Fantasy (Part 24)

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The Alps began to rise around them. Before long you had to actually crane your neck and look up to see the skyline on either side of the road. Even looking ahead the snow speckled mountains seemed to be growing up out of the ground as they got nearer. But long before Bodil had to raise her gaze to see the endless azure still ahead they came to the town of Niederurnen, filling the now very narrow gap between the limestone walls of the pass. 

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Halloween Fantasy (Part 23)

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The professional in her, the intellectual, wanted to call Victor out on his bold assertion. But forcing an argument on a man she was hoping to get closer to was not exactly going to be a winning strategy.


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Halloween Fantasy (Part 22)

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Bodil relaxed… a little. Well, perhaps more than a little. It was a nice day. The countryside was beautiful, despite the lurking Auto-Cults. The car was air conditioned. Victor was charming, and he smelled nice. So, Bodil didn’t let little things bother her. Like that she was being driven to a place she didn’t know, to be among people she didn’t know to be a witness to something she knew nothing about.

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Halloween Fantasy (Part 21)

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((I at last found a picture that does justice to my concept of the Troy family headquarters seven hundred years after the end of the Clone War)) Cool

 

 

 

Eggy House

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Halloween Fantasy (Part 20)

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The following morning there was a note with breakfast.

Dear Professor Hill.

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Halloween Fantasy (Part 19)

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Bodil’s eyelids drifted slowly upwards, the right eyelid seeming to require all the effort her barely conscious brain could muster. Then her priorities changed and the right eyelid remained at half-mast while the brain’s resources were channeled towards reading the glowing blue numerals on her bedside clock. ’03:01’ Its task done, Bodil’s brain was left to wonder why it always had to be three in the morning.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 18)

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Professor Hill’s previous search had resulted in her sitting on the dusty floor of the archive in the middle of a circle of neat piles of paper. The search on Joe Spivey hadn’t resulted in a ‘neat’ anything and some of what she was reading was downright creepy. 

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Halloween fantasy (Part 17)

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Ellie pulled off the thin latex gloves with a casual elegance born from long practice. She rolled them into a neat ball and tossed them into the wire waste basket next to the desk where she sitting. Her steel grey eyes stared at the crushed but recognisable gold and bejewelled automaton, now innocently imobile on the desktop, while the pencil thin line of her mouth betrayed a gamut of negative emotions.

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Halloween Fantasy (Part 16)

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It was hungry. The hunger never went away, not entirely. The passage from day to night was no longer cognate with the abstract label called a ‘day’. Such mental constructs were well beyond its pulped and botched brain functions. But it knew that there had been ‘time’ since its last meal and it new that this time was bigger than some of the other times it had experienced. It was hungry. 

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Just a Job (parts 1 through 5 reprised and part 6, finally)

Joe shifted down to a safer gear for the rough dirt track. But still the car bounced and lurched along in a cloud of brown dust and the screech of protesting shock absorbers.

"Ow!. Shit!" He grimaced and wondered if his spine was going to survive the journey. He was getting too old for this.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 15)

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Archaeologists tend to love digging holes and getting their knees and fingers dirty. Perhaps it’s a throwback to early childhood and playing around in the sand pit. Archaeologists tend not to love sitting in libraries at a desk piled high with books or at a computer screen where access to social media has been blocked by some university admin.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 14)

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Inside the museum it was pleasantly cool but there was something different from yesterday. A strange smell that grew stronger as Bodil and Victor wound their way through the exhibit stands to the doors that led to the conservation area beyond. It took Bodil a few seconds to recognise the odour before memories of sun-soaked parties on the golden beaches above the submerged ancient city of Rio de Janeiro brought it back to her in a wave of hedonistic nostalgia. Seaweed. Old, rotting seaweed.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 13)

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 Bodil was propped up in bed enjoying yet another wonderful breakfast. It had been served by the same young man from yesterday and, between mouthfuls of perfectly cooked bacon and sips of rich-people coffee, she watched him as he pottered around the suite refreshing flowers and tying back the drapes and doing the half dozen or so other little jobs created just by the professor occupying the room. Smalltalk had revealed that the boy’s name was Arno, which apparently means ‘eagle’.

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I Got Those Forced Adoption Blues

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Joe was sitting in a quiet corner of his favourite watering hole when the door opened and Tukiko Troy stepped across the threshold. Joe looked up from his suds. Tuki appeared a tad annoyed about something and possesed of a certain Hyle-like determination in her demeanor that made Joe think that genetic traits might, in fact, be contageous after all. Sighing, Joe put the glass back down on the wet, mug-ringed tabletop as Tuki marched across the sawdust strewn floor towards his little haven. "Here we go." He muttered under his breath.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 12)

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When Bodil made her way back to her room after the meal with Ellie, there was indeed a grey suited man waiting outside her door. He was sitting on a chair reading a newspaper. When he noticed the professor approaching along the corridor he folded the newspaper neatly and put it under his chair. Bodil noticed a thermos flask and a small tin box, just large enough to hold a couple of sandwiches, also standing neatly next to the wall. The man stood up, straightening his jacket.

“Good evening Professor.”

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Halloween fantasy (part 11)

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Waiters are very good at not hearing anything. They just carry on doing what they do even though you and your companions might be talking in great detail about the most intimate things. Waiters are the magical pixies that make your food appear. They are a smile on legs, but they have no ears.

Even so, Ellie waited until they had left before responding.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 10)

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Bodil let it drop. The last thing she wanted was to make enemies of these nice people. And anyway, she thought, hiding a smile, it wasn’t everyday she got to meet ‘fans’ of her work. She headed back into the archive where she resumed her place on the dusty floor. Bodil read through her copious notes. The Baka Neko lead seemed to be drying up. She flicked backwards and forwards through the pages, hoping to spot something she had missed.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 9)

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Bodil turned to face the maze of stacked boxes. She let out a soft, low whistle.

“Easy for you to say, but… where?” She scanned the boxes, walking slowly around the room, almost praying that there would be a big label with ‘South Burb’ and a big arrow saying ‘This Way Up’. After five minutes there were no labels, no arrows. Not even a hand written ‘fragile’ scribbled under a layer of dust. As she went through the motions of searching, Bodil’s brain went to work on the task.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 8)

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Ellie quickly donned a pair of sunglasses and then swung her feet out of the fountain pool and squeezed out from behind the grey-clad mountain. Wet feet slopping on the sun soaked sidewalk, Ellie headed for the steps and the shade of the marble-columned portico.

“Come on.” She grinned as she passed the still staring professor. “Before my feet start to burn.”

Bodil’s last sight of Ellie’s bodyguard before turning to follow her was of her white pumps disappearing as the giant’s hand reached down and made a fist around them.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 7)

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If professor Hill had harboured any ideas of actually accompanying Alicia Troy on her private plane back to the family estate in what was the former Europe they were politely shattered when the strange meeting broke up after a few minutes and Derek pointedly walked her back to her car.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 6)

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This is surreal, professor Hill thought as she followed the broad back of the grey suited man. Two more suits walked closely, very closely, behind her. Her thoughts continued. This is a cliché. It’s like I’m in a damned movie. She stumbled and immediately two hands caught her and steadied her. Then they let go and the little party of four continued their brisk walk towards… She peered past the man leading the way. They were heading away from the party towards a large luxury vehicle set aside from the rest of the VIP cars and their drivers.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 5)

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“Dammit!” The expletive was much louder in her head than the sharp whisper that escaped her lips. Bodil stood, one elbow cupped in one hand with the wineglass held high in the other. She felt just the way she had on the rare occasions in her youth when she had been stood up. Her lips pursed and her glare darted from person to person, daring anyone one of them to make a comment. But the anger and indignation was just a cover for the small but growing chill in the pit of her stomach that was advising her to just let this whole statue thing drop.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 4)

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People milled around for a while, looking at the statue, talking with the aritst, talking with the Dean and being kept well away from the important people by large men in either black or grey suits who sported the latest fashion in electronic ear ‘jewelry’.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 3)

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Professor Ramsbottom-Hill meandered, glass in hand, through the gathered guests feeling very under dressed. She took a long draught of the rather nice wine, swilled it around her teeth for a moment and then swallowed. Well, what did they expect, she thought. Nobody takes evening dress on a dig. She ignored the occaisional glance her way from some expensively coutured madam. They'll just have to like it or lump it.

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by Dr. Radut