I TURNED TARANIS, AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT!
A Resonics Short-Short
by
J. R. Calvo
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
J. R. Calvo
I Turned Taranis, and All I got was This Lousy T-Shirt!
Copyright 2010 by J. R. Calvo
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
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There are a few people I’d like to thank.
Kassie, for loving me, for giggling with me, for everything you do. TJ for helping me with some serious sound engineering, Kara for keeping my days full of obscure references and endless laughs, and to all my fans on the Resonics Facebook page.
This story takes place a six months before An Officer or a Gentleman. This is one of a series of short stories I'll release to set the stage for the first novel of The Resonics Chronicles, Set to release in 2011. Stay Tuned.
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I TURNED TARANIS, AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT!
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MATILDA AND ANGEL
YEAR: 521 AR
The wars have ended, and Senator Newman's Red Coats have become a new policing force to his kingdom. The Paladins. Yet, grace has begun to awaken. Some have found a sliver of our lost gift, in its bastardized form of Untuned Resonation. Without the nexus' aid, they're doomed.
It was well past curfew as the two sisters, Matilda and Angel, crept through the alleys of Zephyran. Far from the gilded streets, of Newman City, the capital of Senator Newman's principality, Zephyran was a village of humble defiance. Its sun-bleached bricks and stalwart people had been scored by the harsh desert wind for centuries; ever since The Reaping had laid the desolate metallic sands at Zephyran's doormat. The sands of the Thunder Fields. This was a place now only for the hard and stubborn. You had to be to stand against the savage heat of day, and piercing cold of night. The rest eventually fled south to the more temperate lands surrounding the capital. Even the Paladins only had a token force. Any more than that, and they would stir up trouble. Fifteen years is too short a time to forget their sons in blue laid out.
A few close calls with paladins and the two women were approaching the backdoor of the Saunters' house. Between scanning the alley’s end, Angel whispered to Matilda, “You sure about this man, Saunter? Can he be trusted?”
Matilda shivered against a breeze rolling in from the Thunder Fields. By far the less cautious of the two, Matilda jibbed, “He’s an Aural, Angel.”
“Doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind. Keep sharp,” Angel sharply whispered. To cement her point, she nodded to a scrap of paper hanging. WANTED: Alias: Matilda Crime: Resonation, Larceny, Murder, Wanton Mayhem... The picture was a couple years old, but a sharp eye could still peg her. Angel shook her head and knocked on the door twice. A shadow covered the peephole before the still-chained door opened a sliver. Angel whispered the password, “This night casts a mean scene.”
The one eye peeking through the crack relaxed. Saunter completed the password quickly, “Good thing the fire is light and bright.” He unchained the door and beckoned them in. Saunter glanced up and down the alley before retreating inside. “I'm J-James Saunter. Aural W-Watcher.” He raised a sleeve revealing a tattoo: a man mid-stride with arms outstretched, one hand open and one fist closed.
Angel gave James an appraising glare watching his movements. James responded by dry-washing his hands, and feebly smiling. Matilda undid her cloak and rushed to the fire's edge. She sighed unabashedly as she renewed the warmth in her hands. No sleeping on the alley ground tonight. Matilda glanced over her shoulder at Angel. Matilda wasn’t surprised to see her sister’s stance-like a prowling cat. She poked fun at Angel's grim demeanor, “If you're done terrorizing the man, dear sister, maybe we could manage to get something warm to drink before dawn. We're safe, Angel.”
“Oh?” Angel's words and raised eyebrow cowed Matilda's smile. Continuing, Angel said, “And what if there are paladins aloft waiting to descend on us? Did you think of that dear sister? After all, it's not my face on a wanted poster.”
“If that were true his boy wouldn't be by the stairs watching us, he'd be in the arms of a paladin as hostage.” A squeak from above cemented her point. The heavy steps of young Felix, like those of a condemned man, announced his entrance. Felix circled the bottom of the stairs to stand before the sisters. He was Felix Saunter; four and a quarter years old as he recited.
James found it simpler to deal with a son then a pair of resonators. His confidence renewed at the easier target as he said, “Felix! You're supposed to be asleep. Now march...”
Matilda cut him off, “James, would you be a kind soul and fetch us some tea? I'm chilled through, I'm afraid. Besides, young Felix here would just sneak out the second your back was turned, isn't that right Felix?” Father acknowledged agreement with grumbles, son with mischievous smirk.
Angel had watched the whole exchange silently. Watched James' movements, posture and stutter. He shuffled frequently, bouncing from heel to toe. He hunched over making himself smaller. He spoke in short bursts, seemingly surprised at the volume of his voice. This was a man afraid of what lay before him, not something above. Yes, James has no hidden paladins, only a standard dose of resonator fear. The sisters had become all too familiar with that sort of fear; they were treated like rabid dogs, as though they might infect everyone they touched. But Angel couldn't make herself interrupt Matilda's play with Felix. It'd been weeks since she'd smile so openly, and despite what she said, Angel treasured fleeting moments like these. These moments they were almost... normal.