This cell was in darkness. Everyone preferred it that way. The Safe had finally given up replacing bulbs that blew whenever the occupant thought too long about them. Besides, his altered eyes needed little light to study his obscure operating manuals and to salivate over smartphone magazines. It also made things that much easier on his visitors.

“Sinclair?”

The prisoner folded his original first-gen Laserdisc specifications guide and peeled shreds of paper off seeping fingertips. “That’s me. And you are...?”

“I’m your fairy godmother.” The voice was followed by the rasp of a cheap lighter. Light bloomed; Harmanda Barriere stood beyond the bars clutching a candle. “And we should talk. Perhaps you’d like to be using these gadgets ’stead of just reading about them.”

The prisoner relaxed. His grey-green skin, where visible, was rubbery and pitted and seemed not quite to fit. He raised the patch of pulpy flesh where once had been an eyebrow. “Fine,” he croaked, “I’m interested.”

Harmanda didn’t flinch at his coffin-breath. “You have certain attributes, Mr Sinclair. Some very particular skills which might be deployed to the benefit of all.”

The undying early-adopter broke into a brown-toothed grin. “You’re asking me to hench for you.”

“Not for me. For the national interest.”

“The National Interest? Never heard of them. Unless… are they the gene-mash fascists based under the maternity hospital? Leader has the head of a wasp?”

“We don’t have much time, Sinclair, so let me make this plain. I’m offering you the chance to use your skills in the defence of your country. It won’t be easy. Might even be dangerous. But it’s a role which would carry…” She flashed a Blackberry briefly from her pocket. “Privileges. Might even accelerate your release. You still interested?”

The prisoner smirked. “You had me at ‘hello’. Well, not really, you had me at ‘release’.” He gave a high, snorting laugh that dislodged a slimy chunk of nasal lining. It landed with a plop by his foot. He bent down and poked it back into place with a long index finger. “So what have I got to do?”

“Tomorrow night,” said Harmanda, “you’re invading France.” And she blew out the candle.



coming soon
WGMY 104.1 presents
UNMENTIONABLES #1