Continued from Part Ten Snyder exited the room, carrying a duffel bag out of the room with his clothes. Cutler said, “Hey, Snyder. What happened to you?” Snyder touched the bandage on his head. “I fell down the stairs.” That was the truth, or close enough to it for Sarge. Snyder entered Emergency Ops…
Continued from Part Nine Snyder stood on the stairwell with Amanda and a cranky Light Bird. Snyder took a deep breath as Dread ranted. “What is the meaning of this?” Dread handed a Iboard to Captain Greywolf. She glanced dismissively at the holographic document clipped to the Iboard. “My order promoting Snyder to Private First…
Continued from Part Eight Jirel paced the grounds outside the barracks. Lord, there has to be some way I can at least talk to Snyder. Even during his morning exercise and target practice, that woman is hovering all the time. Please make a way. A stench of an earthly sort wafted his way. Burning tobacco….
Continued from Part Seven That night, Jirel stopped outside Emergency Ops’ door. It emanated the stench of fornication, like rotten eggs. “About time you got here.” Jirel turned to face Zorba. She blew cigarette smoke in his face. “At your rate, I’d figured we’d have him in Hell before you figured out. Some guardian angel…
Continuing from Part Six Returning from vacation three days later, Snyder headed for his old cubicle. Greywolf caught his arm. “Come on, Private. We’ve got a case in Chicago.” They walked back to Emergency ops. Snyder took his seat. Odd. Where were the other techies? Snyder glanced questioningly at Greywolf. She smiled. He squirmed. She…
Continued from Part Five Snyder sat at the desk near his two colleagues, Private Timothy Harjo and Private Lomattube McIntosh, on the third day of their investigation. Snyder took a sip of insta-Starbucks, black with brown sugar. Why did he always end up being the only white guy? At least he hadn’t taken any punishment…
Continued from Part Four Two weeks into the reign of Greywolf, Snyder sat at his workstation. At footsteps, he glanced over his shoulder. Captain Greywolf was walking up the stairs. Man, she had better not be here to razz him about how he’d handled his assignment. Corporal Jones had been over twice so Snyder could…
Continued from Part Three Snyder settled at his work station. Captain Greywolf exited the restroom. He stood and saluted. She said, “At ease. So, how did your vacation go?” “Good.” “What’d you do?” “Laser tag, caught a movie.” Not at the modern holotheatre; he’d played laser tag there. Las Vegas had an old style theater…
Continued from Part Two Snyder stared at the thirty marks on the wall of his cell in the brig. He looked at his watch. It’d been another minute. He made another mark. Thirty-one minutes. He’d go crazy if he didn’t hang first. The door at the end of the hall opened. A Native American woman…
Continued from Part One Private A. L. Snyder walked through Hecht’s courtyard on his way to work, past the statue of the Emperor. He took a quick glance around and spat out a wad of chewing gum that “accidentally” landed on the empty pedestal beside the loathsome idol. May the traitor rot in Hell and…