This Week: Posting from "The Girls From Alcyone II: Freelancer."
FUGITIVE: Snippet II
Continuing last week's snippet, Dr. Farrington, still onboard the speeding TGV (and on the lam), contemplates his fate, and his next course of action.
Farrington let out a long breath, turned toward the window of the small cabin; any distraction from his sulk was welcome enough. But there was little to see outside. It was well into the night now, and there was no moon. It mattered not. Bellatrix was not renown for its vistas, and New Shēnzhèn was hardly the garden-spot of this machine-planet. Flat, arid, the only landmarks of note were the squat scatterings of manufacturing centers that dotted the land outside; huge factory complexes, surrounded by squalid ghettos that had sprung up to house the migrant working population.
But then, he knew, people didn't come here for the sights, they came here to die.
And that suited Farrington just fine. No one would be searching for him here.
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