Keith Fenwick - Skid 02 - Skid 2

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SKID2 by sam
What is SKID2?
SKID2 is an electronic book, the sequel to the electronic novel SKID. Read
it, pass it onto your friends, anybody that might be interested, everyman and
his dog. If you like what you read and want to check out what happened in the
the first novel download it from my home page or email me for a copy. The
third novel in the series is also available at no cost. However if you want
to send me a small donation to reflect our efforts in bringing these freeware
programs to you I won't refuse them.
Published By Keith Fenwick PO Box 90312 Auckland New Zealand
ph [64] 025 748571 mailto: sam@iprolink.co.nz. home page:
http://home.iprolink.co.nz/~sam/
Copyright (C) Keith Fenwick 1997
This publication may not be reproduced, transmitted,transcribed, stored in a
retrieval system, or translated into any other language or computer language,
in any form or by any means, whether it be electronic, mechanical, magnetic,
optical, manual or otherwise, without prior written consent of Keith Fenwick.
While Keith Fenwick undertakes to supply a viable software package he
disclaims all warranties as to this software, whether express or implied.
SKID2
Prelude
Raele wondered what was happening on Skid and more importantly wondered
whether it was time he headed home. Inel should have long since re-called him,
an order that Raele would have gratefully received. But the communications
channel had remained silent, as if he had been completely forgotten, cut off
and left adrift in space.
The implications of this worrying state of affairs were beginning to loom
large in Raele's increasingly troubled mind.
After leaving the offworlders on their home world, Raele and the crew of
the patrol craft had gone on an aimless joyride around the universe. They
sampled the delights of Candour. Tarried on the planet Guide where time stood
still for them, for who knows how long? A few days, a few years, a century or
two? Too long?
Then they did a beat up of Celcious B. Raele wouldn't land there, he
didn't want to be swamped by the locals wanting food and other goodies as the
Celcions would mistake his patrol craft for one of the heavy bellied
freighters that no longer called.
It was fun, roaming around without any particular mission bar that last
directive to delay their return home until ordered. Raele had been bemused by
this last minute change in his flight plan, not least because he was informed
of the change personally by Inel and not by Noslow his secretary. But also
because Inel, usually so grim and distant, never betraying any emotion, had
clearly been disturbed about something.
Raele had been anticipating the forthcoming mission in the unaccustomed
luxury of a long range patrol craft. He didn't recognise Inel's obvious
discomfort for what it was until they were well under way on their mission. He
had been far too busy contemplating, with a rising sense of anticipation the
delights of unlimited food and agbar supplies and other luxuries now in
unbelievably short supply on Skid. Not forgetting certain other 'comforts'
reserved for long distance space travellers in case they were stranded out of
reach of a service crew.
Crashing anywhere was an unlikely event for a Skidian craft, created as
they were by the most sophisticated beings in the known universe. Raele
thought it more likely that the presence of females aboard was a transparent
ruse to keep them from straying from their appointed tasks.
Recreational sex was unheard of on Skid, Raele didn't even know such
delights existed until he first experienced the rites of new patrol pilot.
Since then his whole life had revolved around the pleasures of the flesh and
counting down to his next space patrol.
Speaking of comforts, Raele turned over and looked at the female lying
beside him, compared her smooth white skin with the offworld female they had
recently despatched. Quite sometime ago now, Raele thought guiltily.
The communication channel had been open for days, Raele had been hoping
that there would be some kind of traffic, some message waiting for him
ordering him home. There had been nothing.
Nor was there any traffic on the channels that should have been busy
with chatter from short range patrol and freighter traffic.
Raele's stomach was upset, he felt generally irritable which was itself
unusual for a Skidian which was probably why the others had been avoiding him.
Worry was beginning to gnaw at him like a live thing. Anxiety caused by the
realisation that he was going to have to make a decision himself. For some
unknown reason those that should be relieving him of this irksome burden
seemed to have disappeared.
There were other patrol craft, on missions like his probing further and
further into the universe and dealing with potential threats to Skid's
security. Or merely watching over primitive planets like the offworlder's that
were as yet no threat to Skid's security. Raele wondered what their crews were
thinking, whether they were as bemused as he at the lack of communication from
Skid, if they were still alive.
Raele rolled off the bed and wandered through to the control room to
check the communication's channel once again. He scrolled through the log,
still nothing. He entered a message and waited for a reply. Nothing answered
except the whisper of the universe through the speaker. He checked the
scanners as they were close enough to Skid that they should be picking up
local traffic.
Nothing.
Reale's finger hovered over the console. Over the switch that would tell
the autopilot to bring them to the space port at Sietnuoc in a few short
hours.
Raele knew something was dreadfully wrong. But what could possibly be
wrong? He pressed the switch and was relieved to hear the quiet beep that told
him that the homing beacon was operating.
Normally Raele was excited by the final approach to Skid, this time he
was filled with dread. Raele flipped on the viewing screen, picked out Skid
from the cluster of other planets and watched as it steadily filled the
screen.
Soon Raele could pick out familiar landmarks, the continents, the
clusters of light that marked the cities of Skid and the salty seas. As the
patrol craft got closer to Skid he noticed that several things looked
different from his previous trips home.
For one the atmosphere seemed murky, as if a haze covered the entire
planet.
There was no sign of any other patrol craft or the swarm of freighters
that normally orbited the planet waiting to join the landing queues at the
spaceport that normally bustled with activity. Usually hundreds of craft would
be jostling for landing positions or departing for all parts of the known
universe.
Raele tried the communication's channel again but it remained silent,
hissing at him as if the channel had been accidentally left open on another
craft.
Surely there must be someone down there he thought frantically, wondering
what he was going to do if there wasn't.
Passing the darkened side of Skid above where Ndgar should be the haze
was thickest. It seemed to billow towards the patrol craft and glowed, as if
untold lights burned below.
Then they were past Ndgar and headed across the salty water to Sientuoc.
What was going on? Raele wondered, truly afraid now. For a moment he
seriously considered turning the patrol craft around and heading back into
space.
"What is happening down there?" A voice articulated Raele's own thoughts.
Raele turned and found Amatm, one of the sociologists peering into the
screen and trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes simultaneously.
"I don't really know," Raele replied, temporarily forgetting that he was
supposed to pretend to know everything even if he didn't.
Amatm shrugged and walked across to the food dispenser. He wasn't looking
forward to returning to Skid and leaving the luxury aboard the patrol craft.
Back too unheard of restrictions on the use of agbar. Strict controls over the
dispensing of food and all the other unheard of restrictions that were being
placed on everyday Skidian life before they had left on their mission.
Amatm snatched a furtive glance at Raele. He saw Raele still staring at
the screen so stuffed his pouch and pockets with agbar before turning to eat
from the bowl that had filled under the dispenser.
He casually strolled back to where Raele stood and took another look at
the screen. This was the end of his first trip into space so he didn't know
what was usual and what wasn't but he saw the haze and remarked casually:
"Looks as if the planet
Once they landed Raele carefully peered through the hatch which
automatically flopped open. There was nothing remarkable in the few patrol
craft lined up neatly beside his own or in the service crew that was hurrying
over to them.
There was the hint of a foreign smell in the air though, one that Raele
couldn't identify, like the flesh that the offworlder used to prepare for
eating. The offworlder was half the universe away so it couldn't be that.
Raele stepped gingerly through the hatch and started across the space
port to the controllers office.
'Probably asleep,' Raele decided wondering why nobody hustled out to to
meet him. No officious clerks or attendants. No special messenger from Inel.
Not even any other pilots greeting fellow travellers and swapping stories of
the latest mission with. Nobody, nothing.
The only sign of normality was the service crew unobtrusively going about
it's business on his ship.
Raele walked across the space port which was flanked by tall structures
the offworlder had called trees. He was headed toward the building that housed
the senate when it was in session and where Inel also had his offices. Surely
someone would be there?
Raele found the building empty as he had half expected, his footsteps
echoed hollowly and he shivered slightly. Where had everyone gone? Raele
searched Inel's private apartments and found them empty as well. He sat behind
Inel's desk and looked at his console. From here Inel kept tabs on every part
of Skidian life. It also meant death for anybody to intrude into this inner
sanctum, though Raele was beginning to doubt that anyone would disturb him.
The console came to life surprising Raele and then began to make its
preprogrammed status report as if he were Inel.
Raele read as the report scrolled down, noting that everything seemed
normal enough. Even the problems with the syn plants had been solved while he
had been away. Skids vast industrial complex was running as it always had, a
monument to Skid's technological abilities and sophistication.
So where was everybody?
The report continued scrolling, detailing production of different
essential industries, the status of defense systems, inbound and outbound
flights. Only his own had been logged Raele noted. Population statistics.
Raele gazed at the figures scrolling off the bottom of the screen and
then scrolled them back up not believing what he was seeing.
Almost the entire population of the planet had disappeared! Raele sat
stunned for, he didn't know how long, staring at the figures. That they were
true he had no reason to doubt, so where was everyone?
one
Sue looked at her doctor expectantly, wondering why he had such a
congratulatory expression on his face. She had visited him a few days
previously, complaining of nausea. After filling the toilet bowl with vomit
for the third or fourth time she decided she must have picked up some kind of
bug.
Who knew what nasties really lurked in the streams where they'd drunk? Or
hid in the rough cooking areas where they had prepared their food during the
trip into the forest she'd recently returned from?
A slight bout of food poisoning or a tummy bug, Sue wasn't too concerned
though she visited the doctor just in case.
The doctor was a small frail looking man, with a tight skin that fitted
him like a scrubbed plastic glove. His soft clammy hands had made her shiver
uncontrollably when he had run them over her bare abdomen as Sue had described
her symptoms.
After a cursory examination, the doctor had asked a few seemingly
meaningless questions about her periods that left her a little bewildered. He
didn't think she was pregnant did he? The mere thought was laughable, not only
was she on the pill but she hadn't slept with anyone in months, almost a year.
The idea of pregnancy didn't cross her mind again. Sue lay stiffly on the
examination table made up with crisp white sheets that almost crackled beneath
her and rested her head on the small pillow.
The doctor took her pulse, holding Sue's hand limply in his clammy paw,
checked her blood pressure and then asked her to untuck her blouse. Sue tried
not to shudder as the doctors clammy hands slid over her abdomen again.
Pressing here, tapping there.
"All right Miss Clarke." Did he emphasise the 'Miss? ' Sue wondered as he
withdrew his hands and stepped away so that Sue could tuck in her blouse and
slip off the table.
She watched the doctor mince around his desk with an action that reminded
her more of a dog than any human she'd ever seen.
"Woof!" A dog barked an affirmative reply somewhere close and Sue allowed
herself a secret smile.
Sue watched the doctor scribble something on a form as she straightened
her clothing and sat in the chair across the other side of the desk.
"There isn't to be anything to be unduly worried about," the doctor had
begun with a smile. "It's a good idea to get some tests done just to be sure,"
he had added handing over the form. "If you see the nurse outside, she'll
look after you."
Sue found herself unable to ask the questions she had been meaning to.
Instead she stood passively as the doctor opened the door and showed her out
of his surgery wondering where the dog was.
That had been two days ago.
This morning the doctor's receptionist had rung asking Sue to return to
the surgery as her test results had returned from the lab.
Sue was a little surprised to find that the doctor wanted to see her
again. She had thought all she would need was a tonic of some kind, a few
pills from the chemist and 'she'd be right!'.
She began to worry that she had contracted some fatal disease, cancer,
aids even. Sue didn't have much time to run through the whole gamut of
possibilities as the nurse ushered her into the doctor's office.
The doctor had risen as she entered with this congratulatory smile on his
face and motioned Sue to sit.
Surely there wasn't anything seriously wrong she thought but the doctors
first words confused her.
"I'm pleased to confirm your pregnancy Miss Clarke."
Sue sat bolt upright in her chair, hands clenched at her side, unable to
speak for a moment.
"How?" She gasped, not meaning to speak aloud.
"Surely you realise that contraceptives aren't entirely infallible?"
"No, sorry," Sue replied, her face feeling hot and flushed, "the news
just comes as a bit of a shock, that's all."
What she didn't ask was whether he believed in immaculate conception.
Before she thought of anything else Sue began to worry about what she would
tell her parents. How her mother might react, let alone her father.
"There is nothing to worry about," the doctor droned on, blissfully
unaware that this pregnancy could create modern medical history. "You're a fit
healthy young woman and it's only early days yet. Make an appointment for a
month so we can monitor your progress. Until then carry on as usual."
The doctor stared at Sue, noting that she was clearly distressed at the
news. Well he was a doctor his work was done. He wasn't a psychiatrist or
social counsellor. If this woman had problems with the father or candidates
for father then that was someone else's problem, not his.
It couldn't, just wasn't physically possible. It just couldn't be true!
"Bloody hell." Sue was as surprised as the doctor who looked across the
desk at her a pained look on his face. Sue froze at the disjionted image that
flashed in her head before she could comprehend it. Like an elusive word on
the tip of her tongue she couldn't quite grasp it's significance. It wasn't
her voice that had uttered the words, but one that was intimately familiar to
her.
But? Sue asked herself.
Shaking her head to clear her confusion Sue looked up and found the
doctor looking pointedly at his watch. As if saying: it is after three and if
you don't get going I'll miss my golf game.
Sue managed to retain her composure until she was outside and rummaging
through her handbag for her car keys. She opened the door, tossed her bag onto
the seat and cradled her head in her arms on the roof. Sue just couldn't
believe it. Pregnant! It just wasn't possible.
Dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief Sue reached over to put the key
into the ignition.
"Oh shit!" Not for the first time in recent days she found herself
sitting in the right-hand seat and not the left when she meant to drive away.
"What's happening to me?" She asked herself sliding across the seat until
she was behind the steering wheel. 'Am I going nuts or what?'
Sue didn't bother returning to work, what was the point in being the boss
if you couldn't take time off when you felt like it?
Instead she stopped off at a liquor store on the way home and bought
herself a sixpack.
What am I doing here? She asked herself again as she got back into the
car. She rarely drank alcohol, though this last week she'd had an almost
desperate need to drink. No not simply to drink, to drink with someone.
Pulling a can of beer out of the fridge when she got home was almost a habit
now. A pile of empty cans in the rubbish bin confirmed that.
For the first time in the short while she knew she was pregnant Sue
smiled. Didn't women crave certain food when they were pregnant? That was the
reason.
How pregnant am I? Sue asked herself. The doctor had muttered something
about eight weeks she thought. Not that there was any point in counting the
weeks up, there had been nobody.
Sue knew it wasn't possible that she could be pregnant, however much she
was. The symptoms all fit and the tests were supposed to be infallible.
Unable to concentrate on anything for more than a few moments at a time,
Sue gave up trying to work out how it had happened. She didn't really think it
was an immaculate conception but there didn't seem to be a better explanation
for her state.
Back at her apartment Sue unconsciously pulled a can from the sixpack
she'd bought and took a long swallow. The trip home had been harrowing, not
least because she continually believed that she was driving on the wrong side
of the road. Though it was clear from the traffic flow that she wasn't.
Sue had suddenly found that driving wasn't the instinctive process that
usually was, she had to concentrate on what she was doing!
Sue had put the irrational idea of driving on the wrong side of the road
down to stress and shock. She wasn't sure about that, driving on the left-hand
side seemed so natural somehow. Too many run of the mill everyday things felt
weird and out of place to her. Pregnancy was just another example. Even the
very familiar, her parents, her house, her work, felt strange and out of
place. It was as if she had just returned from a long trip only to find that
the only thing that had changed while she had been away was herself.
"Gees Wayne, this tastes like weasel's piss!" Sue regarded the can
frankly, then dropped it fearing she was going crazy.
The voice had been loud and clear as if someone had spoken beside her.
Unnoticed the beer frothed out over the floor. Sue looked around to make sure
she was alone and screamed.
Nothing happened, the voice was gone but she tensed at the sound of
footsteps hurrying along the path outside. A head popped up in the window.
"Are you all right dear?" Sue relaxed a little. It was only old Mrs Pratt
from next door."I heard a scream."
Sue nodded dumbly through the window.
"Are you sure?"
Sue nodded again, wishing then old busy body would go away and leave her
to her misery.
"I thought I saw a mouse," she said weakly, sounding unconvincing even to
herself.
Mrs Pratt stared at Sue with and expression of utter disbelief and
unhappily lowered her pistol. She'd been prepared for anything and was quite
disappointed that Sue wasn't in some kind of trouble.
Mouse indeed! Grunted the crusader against evil doers and all men, as
she strode purposefully back to her own apartment.
Sue reached for a cloth and wiped up the mess at her feet, then drained
what was left of the beer before tossing it carelessly at the waste bin.
The usually fastidious Sue ignored the can that had missed it's target
and rolled across the floor. Instead she grabbed another full one and sprawled
in an easy chair.
A bell rang somewhere and Sue was just about to get up and answer the
door when she realised it was the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello dear," her mother answered on the other end of the line.
Just what I needed Sue thought, grimacing.
"How are you dear?"
"Oh pretty well," Sue lied wondering when her pregnancy would begin to
show. She couldn't hide that from her mother for long.
"Are you there dear?" her mother obviously hadn't heard.
"I'm fine mom, fine really."
"I just rang to see if you were still coming down on the weekend?"
"Eh?" It seemed months ago that she had planned the visit. Surely she
had been already?
"Oh sure mom," Sue recovered quickly, suddenly realising what had
happened. Not that this discovery made her feel any better. She had lost time
somewhere, somehow time had passed her by without her being aware of it. That
was the only way to explain the pregnancy, the feeling she had been away, she
might have had some kind on amnesia attack. There was a blank space in her
memory as if something had been scrubbed out. But what?
Sue inserted a yes and no here and there in her mother's inconsequential
gossipy conversation. Meanwhile her mind reeled at each new possibility that
occurred to her. All she wanted to do was to scream and scream and scream as
she speculated at what might have happened during that lost time. Got pregnant
for one.
Tramping last week. Every thing before and after was clear enough in her
own mind but the actual tramping trip itself was a different story. She
remembered going, and coming home, but what had happened sometime was a bit of
a blur. How would that explain her pregnancy? The trip was only last week
afterall.
"Ok mom, I'll see you on the weekend." Sue cut her mother off, suddenly
impatient with her. She didn't want to know about Mrs Jones's piles or how
well her nieces and nephews were doing at bible class, or anywhere else for
that matter.
Sue didn't know what else to do so he stayed sprawled in the chair until
the can was empty and then went into the kitchen for another. Halfway back to
her chair she had second thought and grabbed the remainder of the six pack and
set it down beside her chair. Before opening another can she used the remote
to flick through the television channels until she found something that
appealed to her.
She watched staring blankly, nothing really registering, mechanically
finishing off the six pack. At last she tried to stand and found that she was
more than a little drunk.
What a mess she must look, Sue thought with a giggle.
"Oaark,"she burped loudly and giggled again and with great deliberation
stumbled over to the couch and fell on it.
Within minutes, some inane game show blaring on the television, she was
sprawled untidily on the couch, sound asleep in the land of dreams.
Sue dreamt of strange looking men, tall pale men wearing light coloured
robes that concealed everything but their heads and feet.
Angels, she dreamt. Angels assessing her suitability for entrance to
heaven, staring but not speaking as she stood before them, their distaste for
her clearly evident in their faces.
Sometime in the night Sue woke, finding herself on the couch for the
third time that week. She got up wearily, switched off the television and
stumbled to the bathroom. There she tipped two aspirins into a glass and
swallowed them on the way to her bedroom.
Sue forgot any more dreams that night but woke in the morning knowing how
she had got pregnant. It hadn't been a dream but a vision. The angels weren't
assessing her qualifications for heaven, but as a vessel for another of god's
children. Immaculate conception was the only explanation that made any sense
to her.
two
Cop stretched himself at the end of his chain, shivering a little as
another squally shower passed over. Can and Punch barked loudly almost
alongside him. They needed to announce themselves to the only world they had
once known.
Despite the bleak start to the day Cop was glad to be home in familiar
surroundings. Then sensing rather than seeing the boss moving around the
house, he joined the expectant chorus of the other two dogs.
Cop was also pleased that the boss appeared to have returned with them.
He wasn't bad as bosses went, if a bit niggly at times. But weren't they all?
At least he made sure they were fed most of the time and didn't hit them too
hard when they got a bit cocky. Not that the other two would ever realise how
lucky they were.
Cop had enjoyed their trip away, though the food hadn't been the best
most of the time and there hadn't been a lot to tempt the taste buds. Except
when they managed to bury a particularly tasty morsel for a few days without
some machine coming along and sucking it up.
Watching the boss trudge through the wet grass towards them, Cop wondered
whether his new bitch had shown up. Cop didn't think so, leastways she hadn't
come back with them.
Cop tugged impatiently at his chain as the boss seemed distracted by
something.
"Hurry up," he barked imperiously as befitted his top dog position.
"Get out of it you noisy bastards!" The boss yelled in a voice that made
Cop think he'd better shut up and keep still. That trick always worked. Punch
couldn't control himself and got a light kick in the ribs for his trouble
until he held still long enough for the boss to unclip his chain.
Free of the chain Punch ran around in circles trying to chase his tail.
He leapt up and down a few times and then lit out across the paddock closely
followed by Can, barking like a mad thing.
Cop was far more circumspect. He stayed close to the boss trying to suss
out his mood as the boss strode over to where the noisy horse was kept.
Looks ok, Cop decided.
The horse started up with a loud rattling noise and then carried the boss
up the hill paddock. Cop closely followed by the two other dogs trotted off
with the boss to see what had changed since they'd been away.
Nothing, everything seemed the same as it had before they left, whenever
that was? Quite a few moons ago he thought. Well almost everything, Cop was
sure that they had moved all but one mob of cattle before they'd gone. Now
they seemed to have to do the job over. The boss didn't seem to notice though,
so Cop didn't worry about it and concentrated on having too run up and down
hills again.
Cop was quite pleased with his mornings work, especially when the boss
threw a decent chunk of mutton at him.
Sheep! Decent tucker at last. Cop loved his sheep tucker, especially
stuff that had been dead for a few weeks out on the farm somewhere. The boss
didn't seem to share this appreciation, but now that they were home he was
making sure they had their favourite tucker.
Cop attacked his meal enthusiastically. Getting fed usually meant that
the day's work was over, which suited Cop since his recent idleness left him
feeling unusually tired after the mornings' running around.
Bruce made his way through the morning on auto pilot with vague feelings
of deja vu. As if he had been this way before.
Well of course he had. The difference was he felt that he'd lived this
day before. Especially when he had been out on the coast looking out to sea as
he went to shift the last mob or two.
Staring out at the white crested waves under the darkening sky Bruce
had shivered slightly and waited for something to happen. When it didn't he
shrugged his shoulders in disbelief and carried on.
It was still raining heavily and bitterly cold when he finished moving
the last mob of cattle. Feeling unusually miserable Bruce decided that the
weather was a good enough excuse to spend the rest of the day indoors. He'd
have a snooze where it was nice and warm.
Must be old age catching up with me he decided glumly. It wasn't really
that cold. However, at this stage of proceedings, old age and grey hairs were
the last thing Bruce wanted to deal with on top of all his other real or
imagined troubles.
Last night was a bit of a blank, he knew he'd had more than one or two
beers too many. More like half a crate more by the way his head was banging
away and his stomach churned and gurgled.
Bruce half-expected somebody to turn up or catch him on the phone to
remind him of what a idiot he'd made of himself the previous night.
Or to tell him to leave so and sos' wife alone if he knew what was
good for him.
Though he wasn't sure about anything Bruce felt burdened by a deep sense
of shame and guilt that weighed heavily upon him all day.
What had he done now, who had he offended this time? Bruce waited for the
axe to fall.
He must have done something silly or obnoxious if he couldn't remember
and he certainly didn't do it at the house as there were no signs of a binge
there. No empty, half empty bottles or ashtrays over flowing with old fag ends
and that stale beery smell in there.
"What the hell did I do yesterday for that matter?" Bruce found himself
struggling to remember what he'd done the past few days. Had he lost a day or
two somewhere? Shit! Must have been a real bender he thought, which didn't
make him feel any better.
But nobody rang or called by, or gave him the fingers as they drove past
while he was working on the road fence. Call; the neighbour had even waved and
shouted a friendly greeting when Bruce had gone down to check the mail as he
drove past on his way to town.
Bruce started to believe that he might not have had a big night on the
piss after all, or made a complete dick of himself in the process. However he
couldn't shake a growing suspicion that something was definitely not right
either within him or with the world.
The form of this sneaking suspicion or incipient fantasy remained
frustratingly elusive. In the same way his brain refused to forward the word
he was trying to dredge up to explain this phenomenon, Bruce couldn't yet
articulate what was little more than a funny feeling.
During the evening television news weather forecast Bruce suddenly
realised that the daily temperatures were considerably lower than what he
thought. He was freezing, so how had he managed to get such a good tan in the
middle of winter?
Bruce didn't really feel like sleeping either, his sleep was disturbed by
pseudo nightmares involving tall pale men and women, and oddly out of context,
a single black woman. All of whom seemed to be demanding something of him.
Exactly what that entailed also remained disconcertingly elusive.
Bruce didn't find the nightmares particularly disturbing, in fact he was
quite intrigued by them in some ways. It was the regularity of the dreams and
the fact that Bruce felt he'd met, knew some characters, that was starting to
worry him.
If he didn't have enough problems of his own the bloody dogs had gone to
pot as well. After half an hours' running around they were completely
knackered and all three of them had collapsed beside a gate and refused to
move for half an hour that morning.
If that wasn't bad enough,Bruce was further disgusted to discover that
almost overnight he'd put on weight. Somehow or rather his belly was now
starting to bulge over the waist of his pants.
Maybe I need a holiday Bruce thought. Maybe I should just bugger off for
a month or so before taking over the farm from the old man. Though after the
uncertainty of the last few years when it seemed his old man would never give
up the farm, Bruce wondered whether it was a good idea to delay his return
home any longer than he had to and give the old bugger another excuse to stick
around.
As the weeks ticked by, Bruce became increasingly restless, continually
feeling that even though all he had worked for over the years was coming to
pass, he had missed out on something else.
Bruce kept this inner turmoil to himself, not that he could share the
growing belief that he was losing his mind with anyone. The boys at the rugby
club wouldn't understand and the neighbours would just assume that he had
flipped his lid.
Gradually Bruce began to withdraw himself almost entirely from what had
been his usual routine. The hour's drive to the pub on a Friday night became
the exception rather than the norm. He was usually the first and not one of
the last to leave rugby training if he bothered turning up at all. Not going
to training meant that he missed games. He stopped visiting his sister or
friends when he went to town to do his shopping. Increasingly, interaction
with others became a major trial and he soon ceased to even try and be
sociable.
Bruce, who had never been the most gregarious of creatures at the best of
times was rapidly becoming something of a hermit.
Although Bruce was aware of this change in character, he felt powerless
to prevent it. He knew that he should be forcing himself to get out, make
training or drop in on people but he simply lacked the energy and the will to
do so.
Bruce was disconcerted to discover his self confidence, his confidence in
his ability and competence was being eroded and for the life of him he
couldn't work out why. Even more disconcerting was; for no apparent reason
finding himself on the verge of bursting into tears.
"What am I going to do? " He asked himself repeatedly until he couldn't
force the words from his mind.
Soon sleep became a prized commodity that he only seemed possible if he
was drunk. Even then the weird and disturbing dreams still intruded and he
became convinced they contained some kind of message for him. Not that Bruce
really believed in all that kind of shit.
Bruce tried desperately to shrug off the nagging suspicion that he knew
the characters that inhabited his dreams. Especially the black woman who now
seemed to assume greater prominence than the others. How could he have met
her? It just wasn't possible.
Then the dreams seemed to change subtly, with the woman beckoning him
while the others were consigned to a grisly but ill defined death among mighty
fires which devastated the place they lived.
That part of the dreams made sense to Bruce, in the past he'd had
problems with matches and cigarette butts carelessly discarded with disastrous
results. He was paranoid about glowing butts flicked out of the ute's window
flying back in the cab to smoulder unnoticed behind the seat or the dying
embers of a fire in the grate flicking out on the carpet and setting the house
alight while he slept.
It was all nonsense Bruce tersely told himself time after time, but he
couldn't shake the sensation that something really weird was going on.
Despite the mediocre standard of programming on television, Bruce found
himself spending more of his time veging out in front of it, drinking
innumerable cups of coffee. This habit and his increasingly sedentary
lifestyle did nothing to ease his growing and frustrating insomnia. While he
had been a heavy smoker for years his consumption increased from little more
than one packet of tobacco to two or three a week. His standard of
housekeeping never a strong point totally lapsed which culminated at one stage
in him finding a desiccated mouse carcass underneath his toaster as he
relocated it one morning.
From the odorous nature of the kitchen there were obviously other things
deceased about the place as well.
His disgust was complete when several fat maggots wriggled on out of the
mouse carcass and he almost brought up his breakfast on the bench that he
wasn't really interested in tidying.
"Fuck!" He screamed and forced himself to give the kitchen and the rest
of the messy cottage a desultory clean up.
three
Dizzy and faint, Sue fumbled with her keys and flopped into the driver's
seat of her car and rested her head on the steering wheel.
The last few months hadn't been easy. The daily bout of morning nausea
she experienced soon made her consider employing a manager to operate the
摘要：

SKID2bysamWhatisSKID2?SKID2isanelectronicbook,thesequeltotheelectronicnovelSKID.Readit,passitontoyourfriends,anybodythatmightbeinterested,everymanandhisdog.Ifyoulikewhatyoureadandwanttocheckoutwhathappenedinthethefirstnoveldownloaditfrommyhomepageoremailmeforacopy.Thethirdnovelintheseriesisalsoavail...

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