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    Red/Shift
    Red/Shift
    Red/Shift
    Ebook37 pages34 minutes

    Red/Shift

    By Geoffrey Thorne

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    About this ebook

    A dashing killer trying to outrun his past... A world-weary cop determined to close her most baffling case... A dying heiress desperate to find a cure for her disease...

    When these stories collide on the same Martian night the results are deadly.

    The author of Star Trek: Titan: Sword of Damocles presents an original tale of murder and magic set in a future that is both familiar and strange.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherThe Winterman Project
    Release dateDec 24, 2009
    ISBN9781311047755
    Red/Shift
    Author

    Geoffrey Thorne

    Geoffrey Thorne is a screenwriter, producer, actor, and the author of the Star Trek tie-in novel, Sword of Damocles.

    Read more from Geoffrey Thorne

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      Book preview

      Red/Shift - Geoffrey Thorne

      Red/Shift

      By

      Geoffrey Thorne

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright © 2005 Geoffrey Thorne

      He watched them as they arrived– Breminsky, his second, a small retinue consisting of a couple of females, petty ‘ristos, a monkey and some sort of medical ‘bot to clean things up after. One of the females, the silver haired one with the champagne flute figure, tittered nervously, whispering something to the other in that weird dialect the young of this region used.

      Ookan nom tis plaz? she said. The other female, smaller, duskier and with more inviting curves, shook her head and drew her wrap tighter around her shoulders.

      Not surprising that she wouldn't know. There'd been no use for cemeteries in these parts for a good century.  Baldwin's Rest had been pretty much forgotten. Cremation or burial in space were the current methods of corpse disposal.

      He liked the bleak and dreary atmosphere that still hung on the place. It, more than any other locale on Mars, reminded him of home and of better times long ago.

      It also made the ‘ristos nervous.

      After another bit of waiting, Breminsky's wiry blond stick of a Second stepped forward and said, Reevel thyself, o'forfeit. The quaver in his voice was slight but it was there.

      All right. All right. Enough preamble.

      He stepped out from behind one of the larger tombs, his jacket and waistcoat a bright scarlet counter to his enemies' metallics and black. He bowed and stepped forward. A little breeze kicked up as he advanced, lifting his cloak like a sail behind him.

      The females were impressed. They always were. It was one of the perks of his condition, one of the many. Indeed it was the attentions of one of Breminsky's females that had brought the challenge in the first place.

      This Breminsky fancied himself a cavalier and so kept a small harem. For some offworld bravo, one with no proper introduction to his caste, to even touch one of his females, was the height of presumption. That this one had done so and, further, had scrupled to draw one of them out, across a dance hall, right in front of Breminsky and his crew was quite beyond the pale.

      The interloper had danced with her, turned her head with wine and talk and flicked her back to Breminsky like some too small salmon from an ancient Earthly stream. The affront was obvious and could not be ignored. Breminsky had challenged him right there in the hall.

      It was a mistake.

      As challenger, Breminsky relinquished choice of field and of weapon. Breminsky had gained local fame for his skill with the klef; a sort of long handled, triangular cleaver with a notch at the business end.

      The challenged suggested rapiers. 

      Duels were generally fought in

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