Fragment by Paul G Swanson (people reading books .txt) 📖

The clone fled for its life in the darkest of nights. He had known only dark nights and the light of life seemed to do everything in its power to evade him. Tonight was different though. He had discovered something about his creation. A small flicker of light had temporarily entered his soul.
It happened a few moments ago while sharing this information with someone that he had until recently considered a true friend. That 'friend' then pursued a most unexpected course of action; he pulled a gun and made a quick attempt to unload it into him.
Naturally he fled the moment he saw the instrument of death come out of the coat pocket. And now, ten minutes, later he was still in hot pursuit. The sky above him was currently the nebula that looked like a horses head.
He hobbled around the corner weakly in an effort to try and find somewhere to hide. He hadn't felt the pain in his leg until just a few moments ago. He had been shot in his left calf. He looked down and saw the steady stream of blood leaving a trail.
The pain was not as unbearable as he had heard. But he supposed that was because pain was not a new sensation to him. He had suffered mental agony and in this flight for his life he compared them and decided that the pain he felt in his soul was muchworse.
Steam swirled around him in little tendrils as if it was coming from an invisible dragon. His steps splashed as he stepped into the various puddles. As he was coming out of the alley he saw hope in the middle of the road.
A sewer drain.
He bolted over and fell down in front of it. His calf suddenly throbbed in pain. He reached down into the iron grate and curled his fingers under the slits. As he lifted it the metal rose ever so slightly and rubbed against the surface of its frame. He heard another gunshot. The lid fell back into place and he fell onto his side. His head bashed the ground and he winced. Struggling to move he couldn't feel anything below his neck. He was glad that the pain was gone despite the inevitability he was going to die. A soft cloth was pressed against his mouth and everything went black.
"I'm sorry my friend. Subject 1 has been apprehended."

* * *

Five Years Later

Before he was even fully awake, he assumed, as he did everyday, that it would be just another boring day. He sat up yawning on the huge bed. He looked over at his clock and rubbed his temples vigorously. It had gone blank, yet again. And, once again, he would have to go out and buy a chronological device.
This routine was getting old; this was the third one in a week. He liked his patterns same food, same music, same path to the store and back; even so He getting tired of wasting money on devices that would break repeatedly. When he put his feet down on the floor, the cold metal surface chilled him to the bone.
He waltzed over to the television still naked and turned it on with a slight scowl. It projected only static for the first five minutes of activity. So, while he waited, he quickly got dressed.
The clothes were baggy, so he just pushed the button and then he felt the vacuum pull. The clothes became skin tight like an elastic jump suit. It supposedly amplified his muscular reactions in space, but frankly, he couldn't feel a difference. The black body suit slowly became the shade of his skin and then disappeared altogether as if it was a chameleon trying to hide. The only remaining clue that he was even wearing it was the button over his heart. He then grabbed his real clothes and put them on over the pressure suit.
Once he was done, a feeling of dissatisfaction reeled over him. He had worn this the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that one too.
He left it on anyway. Besides, he wasn't planning on going anywhere. He never planned on ever going anywhere. After all there was nowhere to go. So he walked over to his couch and sat down next to the table.
"The usual, I guess." A hole slid open and he saw the orange juice and cereal come out of the gap. "Uh huh. Thank you," He said to no one. He was just looking forward to another boring day of playing his full-immersion videogames and watching television. It's not like he had a job or really even needed one. His family fortune supplied all his expenses. Yeah, his mind called out to him, just another brain rotting day of this subliminal mind clotting garbage.
"Damn I'm sick of this." The video-phone on his end table beeped letting him know that someone had called while he slept. He checked the call log and it told him Sarah called.
Five times.
Chagrined he went to delete the log and accidentally pressed the wrong button.
"It's time you did something worth my time!" It blared at him sharply. He was startled at first, but quickly figured he pushed the message button by accident. Sarah's face glared back at him from the video screen. He ignored her; he had heard this countlessly already. "Damn it, Tio! Don't you want to do something that'll make your father proud?"
"Shut up! What the hell do you know?" He hollered back at it knowing full well that she couldn't hear him. He never meant to scream back at her but it was more of an impulsive reaction, rather than an actual comeback. Dammit, why is she on my case? And where did this desire to rant at me constantly come from?
"I know it's been seven years of this boring routine" Her voice had lost the shrill quality she had started with and it had grown more somber, more careful, and more on topic. "I know you lost him but, grieving this long its pathetic"
"I didn't lose him not exactly. He is just still back on earth with the rest of them, those scientists." He told himself to disrupt the illusion she was trying to cast upon him.
"You know that he is gone just as well as I do." It was as if she predicted what his response would be. It was even timed perfectly. "Tio! You are twenty-one years old! When are you going to grow up?" She asked him accusingly. "What would I tell Jason?"
"He promised me that he would see me again. And it's hardly a matter of growing up." He calmly told the machine as if it had ears. Then he realized just how stupid he sounded.
"You have to face reality! I know it's harsh. I am sorry that you didn't have that father to guide you but he left me with the responsibility to raise you! I've let you grieve like this for far too long!" The message paused for a second and then cut of. The recording time finally cut off.
Just when he thought it was over it played the next message continuing where she left off.
"Starting today, we are going on a voyage. I am going to show you what happened to the earth, our earth; you are going to see the universe. And, I am going to do the job I was trusted by your father (may he rest in peace) to do."
She looked down, probably looking at her watch, and continued again, "Now, I get off work in one hour, you just shut up pack your bags and stay there for a while."
The messages finally cut off. He was waiting for yet another segment, but when it never came he happily deleted the messages. Crazy woman.
He wanted to find someway to argue with all that, but the worst part was that he was going on this trip whether he liked it or not. Deep don inside himself he also knew she was right. So he obediently shut up, turned off the TV and stood up.
He changed into something that looked a little cooler, was more comfortable, and cleaner. Then he went and packed his bags for a long trip laughing humorously while he did it. Dumb woman, thinks she knows everything, might as well humor her.

* * *

Formerly a deliveryman, Psylix took great care with walking through the semi crowded streets. For a long time he was aware he was being followed and he had deliberately taken the busy streets in an attempt to lose the pursuer. His reputation would never let him be, he sighed dejectedly. He had walked right into a dead end. Shaking his head in dismay he un-strapped from his side the package he had reluctantly taken. Behind him he heard his pursuer stop. On the metal wall in front of him he could see the blurry distorted reflection. Turning around, he sighed in relief, it was only a human. No big deal.
As he was an Atrion, it would be a simple matter to deal with this situation. He didn't want to kill the man so he looked around hopefully trying to find something to deter the man. Above him he saw what he wanted. Not to far above him was an electrical line.
He whipped his tail around threateningly in an effort to delay the man. It appeared to have worked, the man recoiled at the sight of the blade extruding from his tail. Given the time he needed, he jumped skyward and back flipped at the apex, allowing his tail to slice the wire at one end.
The line crackled loudly as it fell and whipped furiously on the ground. Psylix landed facing the man and grinned. He looked back the other way and picked up his package and attached it again.
"Look dude, I'm not doing this anymore, I'm tired of you people. Go away!" The man screamed at him and ran off screaming, "They don't pay me enough for this!"
"Well, that was easier than usual," Psylix muttered to himself. "I really didn't want to do this job. There was a reason I stopped delivering these packages. But No, Moumoru just had to spend all our cash." He leaped easily over the wires blocking his way and stepped back out into the populace. He glanced up at the translucent canopy and looked at the stars briefly before continuing on his way.
He had wanted to get back on the escort business again, but these side jobs are what would be