Bad Moon E-Zine #1 - New Moon

he wasn’t sure if the CCTV was operational, probably gone to pot like the rest of the country. Still, it was possible that he was being tracked on his obligatory student tag and keycard, so he thought he had better scarper as soon as he could. He packed a small rucksack and was about to leave for the magnorail station when there was a buzz on his intercom. He spoke through it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s security, open up! We wanna word with you!” said the gruff voice at the other end.

  “Umm, I’m not in, this is a recorded message,” said Nermal, thinking relatively slowly.

  “Our scanners indicate that there is one Nermal Buxton living at this residence and he is here now.”

  Nermal hammered the button a few times.

  “Sorry about that,” he cried, “Left the ansafone on! Whoopsadaisy. Well, how can I help you?”

  “We want to speak to you about a parcel,” spat the security officer.

  “Oh, have you brought me a present?” chanted Nermal.

  “No, apart from a slap round the chops if you don’t open up presently!” came the rasping voice.

  Nermal was in a tight spot. He wasn’t used to being at the wrong end of authority. He was hassled on the streets and at checkpoints like everybody else, but no more than the usual shakedown. Now he was in trouble, and he didn’t like it, especially as it was for something he didn’t do. He felt the duck call in the envelope, but felt the situation didn’t require it, just yet.

  “If you don’t open up,” warned the voice, “We’re coming in anyway!”

  It began swiping the entrance swiper with an override device, but the faulty reader wasn’t having any of it.

  “Come on you blurping thing!”

  Nermal remembered something useful, the recorded message that he used to deter his roboprofessors when they came knocking, asking for his essays.

  “Sorry, Sir, I’m notable to help you now…” it went into a long spiel. During this, Nermal hastily exited out of the window and scurried down the alleyway.

  - - -

  death sushi

  by Tom Laimer-Read

  Jaxxon De-flux 02189 lived on the 2672nd floor of his mega tower block complex in Tokyo 6. From where he lived, he had a pretty good view of the entire city, at least the part that his window looked out onto. Tokyo 6 was called Tokyo 6 as it was the sixth incarnation of the Japanese city of Tokyo after it had subsequently been destroyed five times before. The first time was by nuclear holocaust, the second by mutant zombie invasion, third by some kind of alien squid type pufferfish type creature type thing, fourth by another nuclear holocaust because if there’s one thing that humans do well it’s not learning from their past and repeating the same mistakes, and the fifth from a tragic photon energy generator incident that inadvertently imploded, taking most of the city with it, after the city elders deemed it sufficiently safe to operate, even though there was the small matter of mass incineration in case anything went wrong, such as somebody dropping some prawn toast down the back on one of the machines, which is inevitably what happened. Now in its sixth iteration, this huge metropolis was one of the global innovators and developers of modern technology, at the forefront of the technological revolution that was taking place in the 26th century. Huge, vaulting mega tower blocks joined with commercial fortresses and industrial palaces. Traffic swirled around the city in spiralling light tubes, each speck within the tubes an unusual passenger on their way to some salacious social event or devious destination. It wasn’t possible to go out into the open air due to its highly toxic content, so instead the place was joined together by these interconnecting light tubes, which make it appear like some kind of giant ant colony from afar, such as was the view that Jaxxon had from his window.

  Watching the neon colours flashing by was strangely hypnotic. Jaxxon couldn’t afford a telebox, his assigned wage credit payment structure didn’t allow for it, but he managed to get by and scraped a meagre living as a button operator, which meant that he manufactured buttons for machines, his designated role as denoted by the city elders at birth.

  High up in the Rook Zone, the area right at the top of the tower where the ordinary people met, so-called because of the infestation of those famous black birds that roosted there, Jaxxon met his friend Bobo and had a jelly drink with him.

  “So, Jaxx, have you heard about that crazy new sushi that’s doing the rounds?”

  “No, fellow, what’s that? I never get to hear any news. I’m not plugged in at all, you know?”

  “Yeah, too true. Look out, here come the rooks!”

  The pair had to take cover as an automated laser turret battle took place between the rooftop cannons and the rooks, which were not exactly the smallish black birds that we know in our present time, but huge eight foot monsters with burning eyes and a lustful craving for human flesh.

  Inside, in relative safety, Jaxxon and Bobo continued their conversation.

  “Yeah, it’s mad, fellow! There’s this new kind of sushi that you can get from some kind of ‘special’ sources, I don’t know where exactly, but I’ve heard about it. They say it gives you a feeling so intense it’s like the light of a thousand suns is burning your eyeballs and your body feels as if it’s being stretched through hyperspace, then you witness the beginning of the universe, just before you die!”

  “That sounds über cool and chonky impressive, my fellow, but how could anyone know what happens, when the end result is that you die after you experience it?”

  “Ah, well, I heard that one guy had a weaker batch and came back from near death to report it. After that the whole place has been going wild for the stuff. I mean, what have we got to live for, when it all comes down to it? You might as well experience the hit of your life, right?”

  “Or death,” added Jaxxon to himself, uncertainly. He was unconvinced about the properties that Bobo had described, yet curiously intrigued.

  If there was one thing that Jaxxon had learned from life, it was to expect something bad to happen when things looked as if they were going well. There was always a metaphorical dog turd to step in just around the corner, especially just after you’d bought a shiny new pair of shoes. This, for him and his kind at least, seemed like a universal constant, the ultimate truth, a fixed infinity, the great cosmic joke – or one of them, anyway. He was always the punchline, and in some cases, punchbag. The algorhythm of Fate had already been decided for Jaxxon, worked out by computers a long while ago, which was why Jaxxon had been assigned the job and wage credit structure that he had been. However, he always had a sneaking feeling that there had been an error somewhere, that some galactic glitch had cropped up meaning that bad luck constantly dogged him. He was born under an unlucky star, a dark sign, or in the shadow of some bad moon.

  Still, it didn’t prevent him from attempting to embark upon new ventures, even if he was ever wary of the inevitably bad outcome. You have to try, right? He resolved to do just that, and began investigating

  His first port of destination was the seedy marketplace by the commercial district where rowdy crowds gathered and yelled things at each other hoping to get better deals, but very rarely did. He meandered around the shacks and derelict stalls, probing for information in the desolate surroundings. Nobody seemed to know what he was asking about, or if they did know, they were keeping it very quiet.

  After hours of traipsing around the area, he decided to give up and go home. It was at this point that a voice called out to him in a hushed rasp.

  “Hey, kid. I got what you’re asking for.”

  Jaxxon looked about, but couldn’t see the origin of the voice, to begin with. His eyes slowly focused on a small gentleman standing in a hidden doorway. The gentleman was so small he could almost have been classed as a midget, and perhaps he was one. Still, he had what Jaxxon was looking for, so his inquiries had not been in vain.

  “Ok, fellow,” spoke Jaxxon, slowly. “Show me what you got.”

  “Not here, that would be incredibly foolish. Follow me, young
man, and make sure that we are not being followed. You’ve already raised enough suspicions with your investigations as it is!”

  Jaxxon felt a pang of uncertainty in his gut. Was this really what he wanted? He was curious, sure, but this? He had to consider his options for a moment.

  “Wait, where are you taking me?” he asked.

  “Don’t be an idiot. I can’t tell you that! I will take you somewhere safe. At least I know for certain that you’re not an undercover officer, they would never ask such dumb questions at all!”

  Jaxxon took this as an inverted, back-handed compliment and pursued the small man as he walked away.

  “What exactly is this stuff?” he whispered.

  “It is the finest delicacy known to man. The ingredients are incredibly rare, and you will only get to try them once in a lifetime - haha. Just my little joke there.”

  For a small guy, the man was very fast. Jaxxon looked confused, but pursued the gentleman through the back alleys and side streets of Tokyo 6, along the transportation tubes and through the commercial district, out onto a wasteground hub beside an industrial section.

  “Where are we?” asked Jaxxon.

  “We’re here.”

  “I know that, but where’s here?”

  “I can’t tell you. If I did, I’d have to kill you. Soon, that won’t matter anymore. So, do you want to try it?”

  “Well... maybe...” spluttered Jaxxon.

  “What?! You