The Children of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (good fiction books to read .TXT) 📖

monkey," Rento, who had dealt with all sorts of trash like him, snapped back at him.

The cocky thumb dodged the blows all too deftly, and with lightning speed he drove a kick into his attacker's groin.

What was his surprise when he realized that Rento's scrotum was protected by a hyon loincloth covered in flakes of kevlarite. His leg broke and it collapsed to the ground.

- "Tell me who you work for!," ordered Boss quietly, bringing his frightened face close to his own.

- And just don't tell me you're here completely by accident. Especially right when we were leaving.

The neighborhood trash was as silent as a fish, but Imaya pulled out an embosser baton and began to beat him on the leg wherever she could find him until she made him turn to salt - he passed out.

They doused him with his own urine - Boss wasn't the most well-mannered - and started questioning him again. In the meantime they had dragged him to a nearby shed - where some of the more casual visitors usually left their Nirangaters. There was no sign of any human presence by the way.

When he came to his senses, the young brazen man confusedly began to apologize as he fiddled endlessly. There was blood on the camouflage colored spacesuit and he had a rather unhappy look about him.

- "Surrealism," he began, not very confidently. Boss's team glanced at each other. He had clearly gone mad.

- "My boy, we're not in art class, so go right ahead," the cowboy, who had a certain passion for painting, prompted him.

- "Actually, I'm telling it to you like it is," he addressed them firmly.

If he had said it even slightly differently they probably would have lapped it up, but now they listened to his voice.

- "Look, surrealism is a denial of war, isn't it?," he snapped. They decided not to interrupt him.

- "Well?," Rento looked at him.

- "Well, look at the design of this neighbourhood," he stretched out a bloody smile.

They looked around.

- We were promised that we would live in peace after all that had happened. Even before the gangs formed. But it didn't work out that way at all!

- "Wait a minute," Boss interrupted him in a very serious tone. "What you're telling us is true, but why are you bothering us with things that happened nineteen years ago?"

- Because Enzok Ra's design was to challenge all human life based on the rational. Look at what was the point of acting rationally so many years after we are going to die very soon. Better to live now! Or never!

- "This one may not have it all," Detective Boss sadly concluded. "Pity, because we could have learned more from him. But..."

The sociopath Shame's despairing and confused face only seemed to confirm his words. His strange grimaces and body movements were in perfect sync with the whole shambolic notion of realism on this planet. He was doomed. Every cell of his body was. That was why he wanted to squeeze every moment to the end! But the end was near. His life was too illusory and limited, as, by the way, were the lives of most of the inhabitants of this part of the polis.

All sorts of oddities could be seen around a neighborhood like Enzok Ra - in addition to Ecclestone's establishment, there were some cyber trees with human faces that maintained the illusion of cyberpunk, and some surreal interon fuel extraction plants completed the picture in the distance. There were also impressive helioran pumps pumping water from underground geothermal springs beneath the polis. Their enormous torsos were reminiscent of huge colossi from the distant past and suggested a sense of sadness and mystery.

Gangs ruled this particular parvenu neighborhood because this was where there was plenty to steal - more than enough.

The visitors themselves were being violated by just such individuals as Shame, who had long been persona non grata throughout most other areas of the polis, but only here for some reason the authorities still turned a blind eye and their crimes still went unpunished, although individual gang members did go to jail from time to time.

Om Gur Nal had naturally issued appropriate orders regarding some very specific crimes committed by them, but he still couldn't bring them under real control, or didn't want to.

Most had gradually begun to avoid Enzok Ra, or tried not to linger here too long for fear of their own safety.

THE GANGS OF ENZOK RA

CHAPTER FORTY: THE GANGS OF ENZOK RA

 

While they were having this rather odd conversation, various members of the Enzok Ra gang had started to cluster around - Milo Starthorn[35], Big John, Averia Downs and some other creeps who had snuck in afterwards were here. Everyone had got hold of whatever they could and they looked dangerous.

Boss decided not to get into any unnecessary conflicts - not that his trained men couldn't grind these youngsters down, but he'd miss an excellent chance to get his hands on some much needed information. He decided to play the good cop and hoped this plan would work.

The gang members were closing in on them, their faces screwed up and ready to attack at any moment.

- "Stop!," ordered Shame[36], "that was the young man's name. - They might help us."

Even Rento was moved. He hadn't expected this trash to show a bit of valor. But he was still clenching his fists, ready to respond to any possible provocation.

- "Look, we're just trying to survive and have some food," Shame apologised.

- What did you say you could be useful for?

- "Well, I can do something extremely good for you," he looked at them slyly, and his friends glanced around in concern.

- "They're worried someone might overhear, because you're not the first to be interested in that thing," he began roundly.

- "Right," the cowboy cut him off, "go on".

Boss was about to shut him up, but this time he was right.

- "Well, Mark and Sasia may have said they left a few minutes earlier, but," the young man hesitated.

- "But what?," roared Rento, ready to knock his teeth out with a fist.

- "Well, they were kidnapped," he spluttered.

- "And by whom?," wondered Imaya.

- "Om...om...om," he struggled to remember.

- "Om Gur Nal," Boss prompted him.

- "Yes," confirmed Shame. "You see, we were hiding behind one of the helioran pumps that were built next to one of the geothermal vents, which is owned by the establishment by the way, and then..."

- "Enough," Boss interrupted his ramblings. "It was useful. Just one last question?"

Just then a sniper shot silenced him for good. He fell on the teach, and a tea cup could have been safely placed in the hole at the back of his head. It was clearly visible that he had been chipped as a child - perhaps the work of Doctor Gad ‘Di Enn .

- "Don't touch him," warned Boss. "He could be a trap!"

As they approached, they saw that there were esonium wires around the boy's neck under the spacesuit, connected to a plastic army explosive - not very modern, but effective enough to blow them to pieces.

Boss pulled out small forceps and tried to remove the chip from his brain - it was Apparently firmly lodged, but had remained intact by some awesome and inexplicable miracle.

Deep down, Boss knew he was starting to pick at the thread, and those scared pallets around would help him untangle it even if he had to make them a head shorter.

Whoever the shooter was had apparently seen fit to get out while there was still time, since there was no telling who else was hanging around and whether he himself would fall victim to some unfortunate accident.

Gad ‘Di Enn  might have sent a second team or even a third along with them, and they might have been liquidated before they reached their destination. All would become clear sooner or later. Sadness enveloped them - the sadness of real life, not without cruel twists and turns.

It was evident that the beginning of the end was coming, and he seemed to feel a kind of sympathy for these men who were placed in the same position. Something had to be done - and he was certainly going to be the man to get on with things!

Whoever had had a hand in setting up the gangs was definitely profiting from the redistribution of territory, as the plots of land near Ecclestone's establishment had acquired cosmic prices - and there was no way it could be otherwise.

The shooter, in Boss's opinion, was unlikely to have been sent personally by Om Gur Nal, who would not risk his status and the loss of face in this obvious way. He had retired too professionally.

After questioning them, it appeared that there were at least four or even five other rival gangs out there somewhere - each with their own territories and specific spheres of activity. Some of them were involved in the trade of narenzianan chips, others liked to organize illegal games on Orimo, and there were not a few who sought fame in the still popular illegal fights. But no one had seen or heard anything! They even preferred not to talk about this topic!

But Boss didn't want to go into such details - it wasn't his job. He wanted to get to Shame's killer - that was the key.

He couldn't deny, though, that he was a professional - everything had been prepared slowly and carefully - the electronic collar and everything.

The plasma bullet was titanium-tipped and had taken parts of Shame's skull so that his brain was visible, pulsing and pale pink, registering the last stages of his brain activity.

The others around were probably going to puke their guts out, but no one felt quite so sorry for their former boss. So what - they'd find someone else! This one was constantly robbing them of their wages anyway, and they could never please him - at least now they had a chance for a new and interesting job, which was hard to find in a neighborhood like Enzok Ra.

A GAME OF LOGIC

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: A GAME OF LOGIC

 

Boss had a real deductive talent and made impressive and profound points. He immediately realized that either someone was trying to soak Om Gur Nal or things were even more screwed up than they appeared. Of course, he had no right to waste any more time and he had to start doing real work if he wanted to earn those fabulous millions he had agreed upon.

Ah, maybe