23-Feb-2018
A heist, spurs and a flash of light.
Unlike the ancient, and now completely destroyed, towns of Earth’s old west, tumbleweeds did not roll down the dusty streets of Dabeau. Instead, the roads glowed blue, and vehicles whizzed past, floating a meter above the surface. Still, long porches lined the lane, attached to almost every building. Beings from all over the galaxy came here wearing their versions of cowboy hats and boots with spurs—some of which jangled as they walked. Some even went so far as to create an entire persona for the place so they could drink, gamble and visit the plethora of brothels as someone other than themselves, and then go back home to their dull lives as if nothing had happened.
S’ski shadowed a humanoid with a many-tentacled female wrapped around him in various, interesting places, and floated with them across the main street.
Even with the late hour, there were plenty of beings out and about.
This made S’ski’s job easier. Without a body, he could easily slip from place to place, but he had to stay close to another being, or the infrared sensors would betray him.
The humanoid and his, err, companion, veered through the swinging doors of the saloon, and S’ski glided to a set of cowboys who looked like they were headed toward the midnight shoot out. He followed them until a block before the bank, and then turned onto a side street.
This was the dangerous part, but to S’ski’s delight, he found a couple more beings headed toward to shoot out. He used them as stepping stones, and jumped from one signature to the next, making it all the way to the bank door.
The loss of his body had been traumatic, but in the end he had to thank the cyber pirates who had parted him from his flesh. He couldn’t go through walls, like the ghosts of stories told around the fire pits, but he had received the ability to trick almost any security system. And while his fee was comparable to purchasing a small planet, he always got results.
It only took a quick moment of concentration before the red light of the night security door to turn green and opened the small slot that clients could use for a night drop.
S’ski slipped through the rectangular opening and into the bank proper.
By day the place bustled with activity. By night, the tall ceilings and sweeping pillars looked lonely. The slightest noise would echo back and forth. Lucky for S’ski, he didn’t make sound.
But he would leave a signature, so he concentrated and found that part of the security system, and shut it off for five minutes. He made it look like a system reboot. If he’d had lips, he would have smiled.
Despite the real marble floors and the expensive wooden furniture—because who actually used wood these days—the bank felt like every other place of business he’d ever been in.
He’d visited the day before, using his client as a shield, so he already knew where the vault was. S’ski floated across the large lobby, past the teller desk and down a small hallway.
The first door was there for show. Any hacker with two minutes could take it down. S’ski did it in six seconds. The automatic latch released, the X-shaped handle turned, and the round, steel door opened outward.
Shelves lined the room beyond, covered with fake money. The paper kind. Bags had been stuffed into the corners, and one mound cascaded down onto the floor. All for show. S’ski moved past it to the next door.
This one was going to be more work. He studied the pin-hole for a few seconds before sending his conscious into it.
As S’ski had suspected, the security here was top-notch, but not out of his league. This was why people hired S’ski. Like putting the pieces of a puzzle in the right order, he began to decipher the codes. Only instead of a picture, they made a pleasant buzzing in his mind when they locked into the right place. When he misjudged, well, let’s just say he was glad he didn’t have vocal cords anymore, because everyone in the town would have heard him scream.
The thoughts of his fee kept him going, and after what felt like ages, the lock clicked open. He slipped through the pinhole and into the next room.
Because no one used actual cash anymore, he’d expected a secured link to the Net. But instead, he found a tiny space—hardly enough for a humanoid to turn around in—with another door.
S’ski swore.
A wooden door. With a knob.
He thrust his mind into it, hoping it was actually a modern device disguised as an antique, but no. He felt nothing.
Somehow the bank had completely sealed the edges, and S’ski couldn’t get through.
He swore again.
A light went on. Then another. Then a pink beam hit S’ski, freezing him in place.
“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice said. “What do we have here?”
S’ski couldn’t glare, but he tried. The beam gave the newcomer the faint outline of what was left of S’ski.
“I told the boys back at central that you wouldn’t be able to get through that.” The Galaxy Marshal gestured at the wooden door. He grinned, causing his facial hair to follow suit, like a deranged demon. “Looks like you’re bank robbing days are finished.”
S’ski said several unflattering things, which no one could hear without his interface.
The Marshal laughed, and pulled out a small, wooden box with a cork in it. He pulled the cork, and S’ski felt himself getting sucked in. Like a genie in a bottle.
The space was small and became dark once the Marshal shoved the cork back in place.
“Told you crime didn’t pay,” the Marshal said.
***
I love it when I have a good idea come to me! Or at least not a bad idea.
Genre-Western
Character-Not Human
Setting-Another World
Random Object-Door Knob
Theme-Crime Doesn’t Pay
