By the Light of Moon Rock

Gilzar ran, his rotund figure moving heavily even under his greatest effort. He had to run. He had to hide. He needed to cover his tracks, stop information from spreading. His mind was a blur of thoughts and impulses. After he'd put a few streets between him and the imposing group who'd just accosted him, he slowed. He flapped the open sides of his black jacket to cool off, rubbing his pudgy fingers around the edge of his sunken eyes. He leant against the wall, forcing himself to breathe regularly.

"Ok, ok. It's fine," he muttered. It wasn't fine. "Kralo will never find out." Kralo would find out, Kralo always found out. He wiped his hand down his face. Who was he kidding? He was just a bar tender and he was done for. Gilzar pushed off the wall, pacing across the width of the street. He was getting some odd looks from a pair of rabzid on the far side of the square that his street joined. Gilzar looked around; he needed to be less conspicuous. In the far corner of the square was a bar. The dimly-lit sign that hung outside proclaimed it to be Raskamole's Inn. Gilzar walked as quickly as he could towards the open doorway.

Inside, a few dim yellow lights hung in the corners giving a feeble glow to the room. Gilzar weaved his way between the tables and took a stool at the bar. A drink, that was all he needed, a good drink would clear his head. The barman meandered over, he was a chubby greman who's eyes seemed slightly too far apart.

"Well howdey partner, what can I do you for?" buzzed his, clearly novelty, translator. "Say sonny, you don't look too great. Let me get you something." The barman turned and examined the bottle-laden shelves behind him. With a flourish he pulled out a large, globe based bottle. He produced a sizable tumbler from under the counter and poured the viscous orange liquid from the bottle. "Here ya go ma boy, get that there stuff down your gullet."

Gilzar chucked a fistful of credits onto the countertop and lifted the glass. One drink and he'd feel better. One drink and he'd know what to do.

*

Gilzar stumbled uneasily through the dank, rain sodden streets back towards the Moon Rock Casino. His feet felt light, a dim smile grazed his face. All his troubles were forgotten, washed away in a slurry of strong alcohol. It had been a long time since his departure, maybe all was forgotten and forgiven. He rounded a final corner and pushed off to where the door to the casino should have been. Only, the door wasn't there. In fact not much was there. All that remained of the Moon Rock Casino, the headquarters of Kralo Zurs' crime empire, was a pile of smoking ruins. Shock suddenly sharpened Gilzar's thinking, with Zurs' HQ gone he was a free man. Kralo, if he still lived, would have bigger fish to fry. Gilzar spun on his heel, his face breaking into a wide grin, his feet lighter than he'd ever known them. He headed back to Raskamole's Inn for a celebratory drink.

Haydn Jones ia a relatively new author, following in the footsteps of their father Gareth, who is now unofficially the second most widely translated science fiction short story author in the world, though they like to point out that they published their first stories at a much younger age than he did.

Find more by Haydn T. A. Jones in the Author Index.

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