Read Online Daisy Wong, Space Marshal: The Case of the Runaway Concubine by Freddi MacNaughton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Freddi MacNaughton
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know as much as I do," Daisy said. "Somebody's
gone missing."
"Snakeskin was asking for you, was he not? And yet, we
are not here, not officially. It is most puzzling."
"Yeah, but look on the bright side," Daisy said.
"We get to spend a few days on Mars, the garden spot of the solar system."
The elevator slowed, stopped, and the doors opened.
Jimmy Fingers, Snakeskin's right-hand man, was standing in
the lobby to perform the meet-and-greet. His smile was real, as real as the
cameras and the blasters that Daisy knew her uncle's security people had concealed
in the ceiling.
"How was your trip out from Diligence ?"
Jimmy Fingers asked.
"Long," Daisy said.
Jimmy fingers held out his hands, palms turned up.
"Hand 'em over," he said pleasantly. "You have your rules; we have
ours."
Daisy and Muffy handed over their side arms.
"And the backups," Jimmy said.
"Paranoid," Daisy said, half-teasing, half-serious.
"Alive," Jimmy Fingers said, flat-out serious.
Daisy and Muffy pulled their low-capacity shooters from
their ankle holsters and handed those over, too.
Jimmy Fingers checked the safeties on all four weapons and
tucked them into his waistband.
"You know, Daiz, you ought to move out of that
glorified soup can you live in," Jimmy Fingers said. He led them out of
the elevator lobby and into the offices proper. "I mean, Lagrange
colonies are fine, if you like that sort of thing, but there's nothing like a
real planet under your feet."
And real grit down the back of your neck , Daisy
thought. Aloud, she said, "Real is good."
Doors opened and doors closed. Glass doors. Metal doors. People
looked. People looked away. Cameras tracked.
A wood-paneled door opened, and they entered Snakeskin's
office.
It was a large room. Books and antiques lined the walls,
and the air smelled of incense and gunpowder tea.
Snakeskin Wong was at his desk, bathed in the warmth of a
trio of sunlamps. He was more naked than clothed.
He'd begun his life as an unmodified human being, but had
fallen for the decorative wiles of genetic engineering. At first, he had indulged
in little things: thicker hair, keener eyesight, a longer penis, a change in
his naturally sallow complexion.
Other horizons had beckoned.
As things worked out, the change to his complexion had been
the merest beginning. Nowadays, tiny scales, like a snake's, covered his
body. Rumor had it that every so often he shed his skin, just like a real
snake. The scales made patterns in a variety of colors: red, yellow, brown,
black, and white. Blue and green, depending. Over time, the patterns changed.
He looked a bit like a coral snake on steroids or a neon-hued cobra.
It was the ultimate tattoo, a living work of genetic art.
There were days when Daisy wished that somewhere in the
universe there were a peacock large enough to snap him up . . . or
a mongoose skilled enough to take him on and win.
Many had tried.
Nevertheless, he lived, leaving behind himself a long trail of
self-appointed mongooses, all dead.
And yet, Daisy genuinely loved her Uncle Snakeskin. As for
the ambivalence, she could do no better than acknowledge it and let it go.
Snakeskin looked up. His expression warmed, especially
around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth.
"Ah, my beloved niece, who makes her life among the
Gweilo. How are you? I see you've brought the lovely Officer Chatterjee with
you." To Muffy, he added, "It is a true pleasure to see you again
after so many months."
Snakeskin's voice was sibilant without actually hissing, but
since the last time Daisy had seen him, his eyes had taken on a new depth and a
new sadness. A new coldness.
Was it possible that he was slowing down, beginning to weigh
up the road behind rather than anticipate the road ahead?
Never. Not Snakeskin.
Muffy made thank-you noises and said what a pleasure it was
to be on Mars again.
Jimmy Fingers brought in tea and cakes.
"Our meeting may take a
gone missing."
"Snakeskin was asking for you, was he not? And yet, we
are not here, not officially. It is most puzzling."
"Yeah, but look on the bright side," Daisy said.
"We get to spend a few days on Mars, the garden spot of the solar system."
The elevator slowed, stopped, and the doors opened.
Jimmy Fingers, Snakeskin's right-hand man, was standing in
the lobby to perform the meet-and-greet. His smile was real, as real as the
cameras and the blasters that Daisy knew her uncle's security people had concealed
in the ceiling.
"How was your trip out from Diligence ?"
Jimmy Fingers asked.
"Long," Daisy said.
Jimmy fingers held out his hands, palms turned up.
"Hand 'em over," he said pleasantly. "You have your rules; we have
ours."
Daisy and Muffy handed over their side arms.
"And the backups," Jimmy said.
"Paranoid," Daisy said, half-teasing, half-serious.
"Alive," Jimmy Fingers said, flat-out serious.
Daisy and Muffy pulled their low-capacity shooters from
their ankle holsters and handed those over, too.
Jimmy Fingers checked the safeties on all four weapons and
tucked them into his waistband.
"You know, Daiz, you ought to move out of that
glorified soup can you live in," Jimmy Fingers said. He led them out of
the elevator lobby and into the offices proper. "I mean, Lagrange
colonies are fine, if you like that sort of thing, but there's nothing like a
real planet under your feet."
And real grit down the back of your neck , Daisy
thought. Aloud, she said, "Real is good."
Doors opened and doors closed. Glass doors. Metal doors. People
looked. People looked away. Cameras tracked.
A wood-paneled door opened, and they entered Snakeskin's
office.
It was a large room. Books and antiques lined the walls,
and the air smelled of incense and gunpowder tea.
Snakeskin Wong was at his desk, bathed in the warmth of a
trio of sunlamps. He was more naked than clothed.
He'd begun his life as an unmodified human being, but had
fallen for the decorative wiles of genetic engineering. At first, he had indulged
in little things: thicker hair, keener eyesight, a longer penis, a change in
his naturally sallow complexion.
Other horizons had beckoned.
As things worked out, the change to his complexion had been
the merest beginning. Nowadays, tiny scales, like a snake's, covered his
body. Rumor had it that every so often he shed his skin, just like a real
snake. The scales made patterns in a variety of colors: red, yellow, brown,
black, and white. Blue and green, depending. Over time, the patterns changed.
He looked a bit like a coral snake on steroids or a neon-hued cobra.
It was the ultimate tattoo, a living work of genetic art.
There were days when Daisy wished that somewhere in the
universe there were a peacock large enough to snap him up . . . or
a mongoose skilled enough to take him on and win.
Many had tried.
Nevertheless, he lived, leaving behind himself a long trail of
self-appointed mongooses, all dead.
And yet, Daisy genuinely loved her Uncle Snakeskin. As for
the ambivalence, she could do no better than acknowledge it and let it go.
Snakeskin looked up. His expression warmed, especially
around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth.
"Ah, my beloved niece, who makes her life among the
Gweilo. How are you? I see you've brought the lovely Officer Chatterjee with
you." To Muffy, he added, "It is a true pleasure to see you again
after so many months."
Snakeskin's voice was sibilant without actually hissing, but
since the last time Daisy had seen him, his eyes had taken on a new depth and a
new sadness. A new coldness.
Was it possible that he was slowing down, beginning to weigh
up the road behind rather than anticipate the road ahead?
Never. Not Snakeskin.
Muffy made thank-you noises and said what a pleasure it was
to be on Mars again.
Jimmy Fingers brought in tea and cakes.
"Our meeting may take a
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