From khaight@netcom.comSat May 27 12:09:10 1995 Date: Wed, 24 May 1995 23:58:30 -0700 (PDT) From: Kyle Haight To: babylon5-creative@netcom.com Subject: Teaser for "The Edge of Innocence" I just recently learned of the existence of this list. Nice to see a place where people can net-release their B5 fanfic. My girlfriend and I are working on a story tentatively called "The Edge of Innocence." Although it still needs a fair amount of work before we'll have all the plot problems hammered out and the text generated, we decided to post the teaser to the list to, well, tease you. Currently the full story is something like 220k, although some of that may be cut out of the final version. Without further ado, then, the teaser to "The Edge of Innocence" by Kukulcan and Kyle Haight. ---Begin teaser--- The office was quiet around him, dark except for the light on his desk. Paperwork no longer came on paper, but it still existed. Reports from all over the Earth Alliance, even outer colony activities, came through his office. He sighed, leaning back in his chair to consider one of the recent ones from Rigel III. Both black-gloved hands together, he wondered if that operation would have to be pulled soon. Psi-Corps operations were getting a little too public lately. The communications screen on the wall behind him came alive and began to chirp quietly to signal an incoming message. He turned in his chair and reached out to touch the panel. The connection flickered into being and a black-uniformed man wearing a Psi-Corps badge faced him gravely. "Sorry to bother you, sir," the Psi Cop said, putting his closed thumb and index finger to his temple in a sober salute. "We have a problem." "What is it, Mr. Sadtler?" he said mildly. "The team we sent to investigate the Mix operation on Long Haul Minor has been found. Proudon is dead and our cruiser Arastradero is missing." "How was Proudon killed?" "PPG in the chest, sir. Clean shot." "What about -- ?" "Gone, sir. No trace of him. Your will, sir." He sighed quietly, feeling a tight ball of cold begin to form in his gut. "Any evidence of foul play?" "No, sir," the Psi Cop said uncomfortably. "Just gone." "Send out a seek-locate team to find him and that cruiser," he said, enclosing his left fist in his right hand. "He is to be treated as a potential rogue and when he's found he's to be killed. I will accept him alive but only if he returns voluntarily." "Yes, sir." The screen blacked and he sat in the dark for a moment. Then he addressed the system. "Computer." "Standing by." "Display financial account holdings for agent 313-889." "Searching." The record came up and he needed only to glance at it. The account was empty. Every asset liquidated, every credit gone. His jaw clenched and the truth of what was before him was too long in settling in his belly heavily. He got up and left the office, striding purposefully down the corridor toward the residence dormitories. He passed a number of colleagues in the halls, every one of them pausing to give him a wide berth and immediately shutting down their own mental walls when they saw the darkness in his mind and his face. He reached the quarters he sought. J026. He used his access code to open the door and he went in, hitting the lights as he went. The front room was neat, filled with personal effects carefully arranged as they always had been. Nothing had been taken that he could see. Nothing out of place. Except the smooth, polished black table in the center of the room, its two chairs casually left by it. There was a data crystal resting point-up in the center of the tabletop. He went toward it with dread, with cold, cold ice in his belly and his mind, a terrible ache in his chest. Why, oh why... He put the data crystal in the port at the desk and sat down in the chair as the computer automatically interpreted the crystal's encoding and began running a message. A familiar, handsome face appeared on the screen and the warm voice reached him. "Bester, my friend, my teacher, I leave you this message so you will understand my reasons for what I have done..." Bester leaned back, both fists pressed together at his mouth, his thoughts chilled, colder by the moment as the message played, outlining a truth, a man, that he did not know, that he had never known... The message ended, went out and the screen went dark, and Bester sat in the chair. The hole he felt in his stomach was never going to go away. He held it down for about fifteen minutes before the darkness was too much and he let the tears fall onto his hands. ---End teaser--- Suggestions, criticisms and comments may be directed to me at khaight@netcom.com. Kyle Haight khaight@netcom.com ---------------------------------------------------------------------- This post was about war, racism, intolerance, | No it wasn't! The heroism, justice, and the inevitable triumph | author got millions in of good over evil. | Frungy endorsements!