Which produced the inevitable result. My foot travelled a grand total of six inches forward, then stopped. These questions are related but not necessarily equivalent. Interesting to a point but I'm definitely glad it was a freebie. Yes, I most definitely would. I had no idea how this could be. But … blue marks tracked across the face, in a vaguely lightning-like pattern, continuing into the hairline.
Will we ever be able to model human consciousness? I caught sight of something being tucked into a pocket of the hoodie. It is a world I would like to learn more of. Murder charges are still murder charges, after all. The next sensation I recorded - thank you, near-perfect memory - was stink. In the middle of my palm was a shape like a four-pointed star, glowing light blue. I was driven forward into the fridge, ending up face-to-tub with a serving of Delicious Dairy Yoghurt.
Well, maybe I'm exaggerating the size by a little. When I came to again, it was because a rat was trying to eat my face. A layer of grime and exploded garbage over most of that, check. There was a thunderous boom, and a hammer-blow smashed into my back, just under my right shoulderblade. I imagine they are fleshed out much better in the initial book in this series based on the Otto and Richards characters. The worst part of the story was the ending.
Carefully, I staggered toward the two downed cops. My recently-emptied stomach was complaining the most; it was knotted up tighter than a Boy Scout's practice dummy. This bastard was just a flying lightning rod. Lightning burst from the palm of my hand, straight into the garbage bag. The worst part of the story was the ending.
Electromaster Zapmaster Lightning Master Killer-Watt Killer-Volt Electrocutioner Storm Cell Blue Bolt Dark Sinister There was a definite trend to these names. And just to put the icing on the big-ass cake made of fuck-you that was bearing down on me, just last night I had murdered a cop in front of a parahuman hero. The future applications of present gadgets and software that Haley posits are both believable and surprising. The resolution involved a sweet little twist, though I would have preferred a slightly longer explication of that twist. While I liked this book, I picked it up on a Kindle Deal a while back, I found it hard to get into at times as I was not versed in the world and characters as much.
Guy Haley is a writer to watch. Half of them were empty, boarded up; some of the rest had merchandise out on the sidewalk, the better to attract the suckers. As I headed for the fridge, I noticed that the lights in the store had their own ribbons, as did the fridge itself. People looked at me oddly as I approached the store; I stared right back at them. Guy Haley's take on the near-future is an intelligent marriage of bleak truths--yes, the environment gets way fucked and the poor with it--and sexy possibilities. As for my arm, it felt like the very same maniac was attempting to remove it, with a chainsaw, at the shoulder, without either sharpening the blades or starting the fucking chainsaw.
Disclaimers: 1 This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow. Let's rob his sorry ass! Guy Haley scratches that itch, and then some. They were dropping a dime, grassing me up, selling me up the river, doing me the dirty, squealing to the pigs. It's amazing how wrong you can be about the most basic of assumptions. On your side is much healthier, and allows kind passers-by to place you in the recovery position.
Doors flew open, and officers pointed guns over them. The kid had shoulder-length straggly hair; I guessed it was either a skinny girl, or a skinni er guy. The evidence certainly seemed to suggest it; a calling card from a costume maker, a list of potential names. It probably stuck out more to me si I really enjoyed this short story; and it's making me consider buying the first book of the series. It was a good trick. Which was going to make certain operations very, very tricky. The bag burst open under the impact of my arm, allowing its well-marinated contents to add to the ambient fragrance permeating the alleyway.