Thomas Novack, our unfortunate hero is one part private eye, two parts irritable cephalopod and a dash of magic. He runs his P.I. business in the year 2318 out of a shop called The Emerald Eye with his secretary, Bob, a robot of war. The shop rests inside the space station: The Flying Spade. He may not always be successful, but to keep the paychecks coming, he’ll try his best.
A tall warbot named Bob knocked on his boss’s door. A cephalopodic humanoid looked up from the paperwork that rested unfilled on his desk. The word “overdue” was written in bold letters. As soon as Bob opened the door, Novack slid a blank page overtop.
Novack waved his hand, causing a green haze to develop around the handle, and opened the door. “What can I do for you?”
A voice undercut with an electronic hum emanated from the bot, “You’ve got a visitor, he’s got a case. A strange one.”
Novack’s hand tapped on the hidden paper before speaking. “Send him in. We could use it; we’re not exactly rolling in cash right now.”
Bob actually expressing hesitation really said something. He may have had some bug or virus that granted him sentience, but it didn’t go a long way for reading and understanding people, especially their behavior. That was still a mystery for him.
After a moment, a being stepped into Novack’s office. For Novack—being born from Eldritch energy that came from a different plane of existence—to consider someone weird was a cause for great concern.
He had on a leather jacket, tall spiked greenish hair and rockish marbled skin. He was strapped from head to toe with different weapons, both guns and bladed weapons. With each step, there was a slight grinding of rocks and the shedding of pebbles. Novack had to hold in a sigh, knowing that he’d have to sweep soon.
“Let’s cut the crap. I ain’t gonna waste your time ‘cause I know I value mine,” the rock being said, picking up one of the chairs and turning it around before falling into it.
The chair protested under the weight. Novack immediately had a great distaste for the being across from him, but he could deal with a self-important asshole if it meant getting his paycheck.
“My name’s Craig, and I’m a bounty hunter,” the man said, flashing a guild-certified badge before continuing. “You see, I’ve been chasing this broad halfway across the galaxy. Now, I know she’s on this station. I ain’t above using my resources, and word on this dump is that you are the squid to talk to for getting things done. I’ll split the bounty with you if we manage to catch her.”
Novack sighed and reached out his hand. Craig shook it, giving a smile that gave Novack a bad feeling. He knew he couldn’t trust the man, but either he’d get paid or stop something that wasn’t morally upstanding from happening.
Craig brought Novack to a local bank that had been robbed that morning. Craig had wormed their way to the security footage with his badge. On the films, the job was done incredibly professionally: in and out without a single gun fired. The fugitive wore a mask and a tailored well-fitting suit, which struck Novack as odd when she pulled off the mask on her way out of the shop, allowing her hair to fall over her shoulders.
Her hair reflected the light, obviously made of some kind of metal. It was an easily identifiable mark; very few races grew metal hair. It just didn’t match up with anything else from the heist.
The outside cameras picked her up walking into an alley that branched into two paths. She threw the mask down one, and walked down the other. With nothing else to go on, Craig and Novack walked outside. Novack walked down the path with the mask, and Craig, the other.
Novack found the mask and lifted it up. When he picked it up, small gravel fell out and pinged along the station floor. It was the second time he’s seen that same kind of rock today. A whistle behind him made him whirl around. He was staring down the fugitive that Craig was tracking down, the metallic hair giving her away instantly.
“Come catch me; I’m tired of living with Craig. But I’m not going to make it easy,” the woman said, smiling before turning around and running.
Novack sprinted after her, following the sound of her footsteps echoing off the metal floor. With a focus of his will, Novack launched forward, gaining on the fugitive. His hand reached out, a green cloud wrapping around her feet and dragging her to the ground. When she fell, she suddenly ballooned back into Craig.
Novack quickly called the station authorities before Craig woke up. Novack explained the situation to the bounty hunter and was utterly confused when he laughed.
“That means I still got it! Only the best fugitive in the galaxy could escape the best bounty hunter in the galaxy!” Craig said as he was put into handcuffs and led away. Even when getting arrested, the man could still find a way to gloat about it.
As Craig was put into the van, his skin crumbled and fell to the ground to reveal the fugitive looked back at Novack and smiled. Just before the door closed, she winked at him. If it wasn’t for the bounty payment chip that was given to him, he would have tried to drown the day away in his favorite bar.
Joshua Rettew is a third-year student majoring in microbiology with a minor in creative writing. JR868511@wcupa.edu