R. J. Spindle
A novel writing team made up of Rhiannon and Joey. The tales we spin are sometimes fantastic, sometimes horrific, sometimes romantic. http://rjspindle.com.
- Nashua, NH
Henri dragged his feet coming out of the shack. The moon was only just higher in the sky than it was when he entered. He felt like much more time had flown by. Vroomhilda still projected the progress of the races on Planet Barrett. He saw the destruction covering the racetrack. And his mind eased a bit when he noticed the sole racer left was Gilda. She wore an expression he didn’t recognize, and nothing else. The crowds roared as she crossed the finish line on her severely damaged hovercycle.
Years passed before Henri’s conscious mind in no time at all. This was merely a taste of what Bathilda saw, he knew this, and it wasn’t long before the load of information made his brain ache. “Stop!” The sensation of breaking tugged at Henri’s gut. He and Smith were standing in space, nothing beneath their feet. Looking down didn’t do much to stop Henri’s stomach from churning. “We’re almost there,” said Smith. “The moment when I was rescued from Alzegrik de Gustibus by Jentlae.” “A
Gilda fought for control of her body. Her vision glazed open, focusing when her attempts to regain herself worked. Whatever the power was over her, it had more stamina than her mind. She fell back, and watched the fuzzy haze of a world fade away… See me … Gilda heard echo in the emptiness surrounding her consciousness. See me now! Gilda’s awareness focused on an area of darkness and the image of her mother materialized. “This is a vision,” said Gilda. “Oh, so you believe in visions n
Gilda started to panic. She was ready to face Violet, but after the display of magic she just saw, she wasn’t sure she could take her former friend. She heard a loud, snapping noise ring over the sounds of the crowd, and felt something wrap around her waist. She looked down to see an electric blue band around her mid-drift, and it pulled her backwards. Tadalunda, caught her in his arms. “Ah, hello there,” he smiled down at here. “You appear to be a little nude.” “You noticed that?” Gilda s
“Racers! Start—your—engines!” Gilda revved her hovercycle, and brought it seven feet off the ground. Violet followed suit, glaring in disgust. “Racers, on your marks!” “What’s your problem?” “Don’t play naive,” Violet spat. “Look, I know why I’m here, and naked,” Gilda shook her head in self amazement. “Who are you racing for? The Galactic Inter-Stellar Mail?” “If I was, don’t you think I’d be wearing my jump-suit?” “Touche,” Gilda grinned. “We’re still friends, right?” “
Henri sat in the humid shack with the Samoan for enough time to make him impatient. Nothing was happening. The man was barely breathing, and his wooden leg was poking Henri in the thigh. “What am I supposed to be doing?” Henri shouted loud enough for those outside the shack to hear him. There was no answer. The Samoan man opened his eyes, threw his heavy fleshy leg onto Henri’s lap, knocking the air out of Henri’s lungs in the process. “Look into my sole,” Smith said, then closed his eyes
“You!” the one word exclamation drew Tadalunda Tendalendent’s attention. Then he knew the word was an accusation, and it was aimed directly at him. “Cumberbund,” all traces of humor drained from Tada’s face. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your pres—” “Skip the chatter, Tendalendent,” Bandersnatch pushed people in the crowd aside so he could get to the other End-of-Timer. “Just tell me what YOU are doing here.” “Oh me?” Tada’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m here to watch the race.”
“Vroomhilda!” Henri yelled at the top of his lungs. “Where did you go?” “My captain calls, I must answer,” said the Flying Car, popping back into existence in the same place it vanished. “Gilda called you?” Henri pulled the driver-side door open and plopped himself down on the leather bench seat. “Where is she?” “The Barrett Diamond Planet Exposition,” Vroomhilda answered. “Miss Gorightly has entered the preliminary hovercycle race today.”
“I thought I told you to keep an eye on Miss Gorightly,” Tadalunda Tendalendent said, sidling up beside Tara Belle. “And I’m doing better than promised,” Tara answered. “I can’t take EITHER eye off that.” She indicated the huge holo-projection of Gilda’s nude figure hovering over the track. “Not exactly what I had in mind,” Tada scratched his head. “Excuse me?” Wrench interrupted. “What YOU had in mind? Who are you?” “Me? Well,” Tada smiled. “I’m your worst nightmare. Or your saving