Koko the Mighty E-Book

Kieran Shea

• Herausgeber: Titan Books
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

With an outstanding Ultimate Sanction bounty still on her head, Koko Martstellar (ex-mercenary and saloon madam extraordinaire) and Jeddiah Flynn (former orbital sky-cop) have to solve the mystery of an outlander cult and hordes of genetic-mutant raiders led by bounty agent Wire.

Leseprobe

Contents

Cover

Praise for Koko Takes a Holiday

Also by Kieran Shea

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

(Espresso Shot) The Story So Far

The Sixty I

If You Check the Guide

And Away we go

Cochon De Lait: Horace Britch

Evasive Maneuvers

Keeping a Live Wire Down

Way Down Below the Ocean

Sea Monkeying

The Sixty II

Discussing Dirty Deeds

The Commonage I

Three Days Later (So This is What it’s Like)

Aground

He’s got the Fever

Sébastien Maxx

Surabaya, Indonesia I

The Deportation Suck

The Commonage II

Wakey, Wakey

All he Does is Dream… Dream, Dream, Dream

Lodge Delta

Caution Words

Surabaya, Indonesia II

She’s Back, Back in the Surabayan Groove

The Commonage III

Braving the Parents

The Partner Doctor

Have a Fruit Plate

A Quick Snoop at the Spd&k and Sec Five

Was She his Dreamy Little Rock N’ Roll? (Kind Of)

The Trick and Grum Show

Wander and Visit

Somewhere Over the Pacific I

Mortem Desursum

The Sixty III

Horace Britch, In Repose

The Commonage IV

An Immodest Proposal

The Interment Continued

With the Wee Ones

Taking Action

Somewhere Over the Pacific II

The Not So Friendly Skies

The Commonage V

Pressing Mister Maxx

Bitterblue

Splashdown

Dr. Simpatico

Crusoe-In’

On Higher Ground

Sister Morpheus

Meet the New Boss

The Defenses Begin

Beans and Schemes

On their Backs

We’re Having a War Party

Ow

Koko the Mighty

Tabula Rasa

Epilogue

The High and Below

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also Available from Titan Books

PRAISE FOR KOKO TAKES A HOLIDAY

“This futuristic wild ride starts out quickly and doesn’t really slow down until it’s over. You would think such a breakneck pace wouldn’t leave much time for character development, but you’d be wrong; Shea skillfully weaves characterization into dialogue and into the thoughts and actions of the people in the novel. The use of the present tense certainly helps make the story feel urgent and immediate, too: we get caught up in Koko’s predicament and are carried along with her as she desperately tries to keep herself alive until she can track down her would-be assassin. Great fun and a fine introduction to an author with a distinctive voice. Expect more from Shea.” Booklist (starred review)

“Shea takes us 500 years into Earth’s future, a place apparently decadent and war torn in equal measure. Reminiscent of Takeshi Kovacs from Richard K. Morgan’s Altered Carbon with a dash of Tank Girl attitude, Koko is a memorable character.” Library Journal

“…vigorous anarchic pulse… sheer velocity keeps the story rattling along like a big geeky pinball machine.” Publishers Weekly

“A vivid and brutal old school (in the best sense) cyberpunk headkick.” Richard Kadrey, New York Times bestselling author of Sandman Slim

“Big, brash, and ambitious as all hell. Fans of white-knuckled science fiction, welcome to your new favorite novel.” Chris Holm, award-winning author of The Collector series

“If Hunter S. Thompson and Elmore Leonard got together and wrote science fiction you’d get Koko Takes a Holiday. Brutal, smart and wickedly funny… a jet-powered, acid-fueled trip of pure, rocking insanity.” Stephen Blackmore, author of Dead Things

“Not since Richard K. Morgan’s Altered Carbon have I felt so completely immersed in such a perfectly realized world of the future. Kieran Shea is the breath of fresh air the science fiction genre has been looking for. I want more Koko, and I want her right now.” Victor Gischler, author of Ink Mage and Go-Go Girls of the Apocalpyse

“The tempo of the storytelling is near on perfect. The action picks up speed like a jet fighter going in to attack – and it twists and turns with the same agility… No holds barred, just plain fantastic fun.” SF Signal

“A fast-paced cyberpunk fantasy with all the anarchic energy of a graphic novel. Newcomer Kieran Shea’s debut novel moves at breakneck speed, and it’s teeming with colorful characters and a joyfully black sense of humour… a fun and action-packed read.” SciFi Now

“A nonstop bloody thrill ride with all of the subtlety of a rocket launcher, and I loved every minute of it.” My Bookish Ways

“Darkly funny, intelligent and a little ultraviolent… action packed and humorous pulp science fiction at its best.” The Book Bag

“An incredibly fast paced, zany rollercoaster of a ride… A quirky, gritty, humorous, and incredibly visual stylized book that would be perfectly at home in graphic novel or movie formats, Koko Takes a Holiday is an absolutely amazing debut.” Portland Book Review

“Plenty of explosions, bullets, wise cracks, and surprises will leave you wanting more… Yippee-Ki-Yay… this book completely rocks.” Geek Dad

“An amazing read that wonderfully mixes the works of cyberpunk and sci-fi space operas with a dose of acid and unapologetic violence to create a compelling and hard-to-put-down novel.” Pop Cults

Also available from Kieran Shea and Titan Books

KOKO TAKES A HOLIDAY

Koko the MightyPrint edition ISBN: 9781781168622E-book edition ISBN: 9781781168646

Published by Titan BooksA division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP

First edition: August 20151 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Kieran Shea asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Copyright © 2015 by Kieran Shea. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

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FOR ALL THE HEARTBROKEN WHO GIVE A DAMN ANYWAY

“WHEN YOU THINK OF THE LONG AND GLOOMY HISTORY OF MAN, YOU WILL FIND MORE HIDEOUS CRIMES HAVE BEEN COMMITTED IN THE NAME OF OBEDIENCE THAN HAVE EVER BEEN COMMITTED IN THE NAME OF REBELLION.”

C.P. SNOW

(ESPRESSO SHOT) THE STORY SO FAR*

Once upon a future time in the year 2516, retired corporate mercenary Koko Martstellar believed she had quite the life. Running a bar and brothel operation on The Sixty Islands, the world’s most violently decadent South Pacific resort—honestly, who wouldn’t believe they had it good? Of course when Koko’s piously phony boss tried to have her killed for an unspeakable crime she no longer recalled, the easy life for Koko deep-sixed pretty fast.

Pursued by a lethal trio of eye-eating bounty agents and fleeing to the atmospheric sky barges of the Second Free Zone, Koko teamed up with Jedidiah Flynn, a Depressus-afflicted former lawman who’d been readying himself for a live-broadcast mass suicide, known as Embrace. Matching equal amounts of grit and pluck, together the two evaded Koko’s hunters, executed revenge on Koko’s boss, and ended up more or less living happily ever after back on The Sixty Islands, running a new saloon. Or so they thought.

One ruthless bounty agent, Jackie Wire, survived Koko and Flynn’s eluding efforts, and Wire is still determined to collect the price on Koko’s head no matter the cost.

This is where their story continues…

*Koko Takes a Holiday recap. (Book purchase warmly suggested.)

THE SIXTY I

IF YOU CHECK THE GUIDE

If, by chance, you’re considering vacation travel to The Sixty Islands and you happen to be perusing the latest core-loaded version of Nessim’s International Almanac of Recreational Excursions, under the NIGHTLIFE/ACCOMMODATIONS silos you will notice an addition to the usual roster of offerings. The addition reads as follows:

SALOON, ISLAND 13

RE4589769-DS7-8.2

SI Facility Endorsement Rating—Pending

Proprietor: Martstellar, Koko P. (Penelope)

House Manager: Flynn, Jedidiah

Staff: (Incl. Certified Release Specialists) 16 (M/F)

Availability: [Unknown] (Under development, scheduled for business late 2516)

If you have secured your own shuttle transport or one of The Sixty’s new air-conditioned tuk-tuks, this soon-to-be-opened S.I. saloon offers boutique accommodations, soothing libations, and carnal entertainment on the very-very. Situated approximately fifty meters above current adjusted sea levels and tucked away on one of the resort’s more sheltered islands, this delightful spot is a quaint yet alluring option for patrons seeking sensual satisfactions in a laid-back garden atmosphere. Exquisitely replicated to historic Polynesian architectural standards and situated near two of The Sixty’s ceasefire quadrants, this concern boasts eleven chic rooms with a full bar, gourmet fare, lap pool/spa, as well as a recreational gambling area with unrestricted table limits. Rosters of both male and female release specialists are available for companionship with negotiable rates and group packages offered. Upon its opening, advance reservations are recommended and full medical records are required.

AND AWAY WE GO

As she mashes down a bundle of white bar towels, Koko Martstellar’s mind redlines.

“Stay with me, sweetie.”

In what must be mindboggling agony, Jedidiah Flynn lasers her a look. The towels pressed against the wound in his leg quickly soak red on contact, and he throws open his jaw and bays like a stuck hound.

“You keep pushing on my leg like that, and I’ll stay with you. I’ll stay with you long enough to rip your damn head off! God, who trained you in field medicine, Koko? A butcher?”

Koko peeks under the bloody towels. Flecked with dark leg hair, the pulse-round wound in Flynn’s leg is a warm trench of glistening pink gore. Damaged and cooked iliotibial band muscle for sure, but at twelve oozing centimeters the wound is totally survivable if measures are taken, and taken soon.

“Listen,” Koko says. “You need to keep compression on this until we get a chance to stitch it up, okay?”

Flynn whips his head and grimaces. “Sheesh, who is that? Is she the one who shot me? I thought all the violence on this resort is supposed to be simulated.”

Koko needs to keep Flynn’s mind occupied, so she takes one of his trembling hands and places it on the bloody towels.

“Here, firm and steady pressure. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

Koko quickly kisses the top of his sweaty head and then snaps her blood-slickened fingers. She points at the release specialist, the one in the gold lamé hot pants who cold-cocked the intruder just after she opened fire.

“Get that ugly bitch’s weapon and give it to me. Frisk her, check her pockets and inside her boots. Be thorough. I want everything she’s got. Identification, currency, that holster and belt she’s wearing, the works.”

The young man in the gold hot pants quickly kneels and does as Koko says. It takes some work to reach underneath the intruder, but he rummages through all of the woman’s pockets and finds only a single additional power clip for the weapon the intruder dropped when she fell to the floor. He pulls off both the woman’s boots. The boots are empty.

Koko wipes her fingers on her pink T-shirt. It’s a small challenge for her to get to her feet without using her cane, but when the young man hands over the intruder’s belt she lashes it around her hips. After pocketing the power clip in her camouflage shorts, Koko checks and sights the weapon. It’s an HK U-50. Naturally she’s handled one before, but at a formidable twelve hundred plus grams the weapon is definitely not a personal favorite. Setting the safety and seating the weapon in the belt’s holster, Koko then orders two other release specialists to retrieve a set of bug-out backpacks she’s stashed in the saloon’s kitchen.

“Look in the crawlspace next to the walk-in fridge,” she says. “You’ll see a huge green plastic bin labeled ‘Used Commode Parts.’ The backpacks are in there.”

The two release specialists move out on the double, and, not missing a beat, Koko instructs three more to bring the electric cargo ute around to the front of the building, as well as her terra-sled from the rear storage sheds. Koko looks down at Flynn.

“I hate to say this, baby, but you and me? It’s time to vamoose.”

“Vamoose?”

“Yeah, like, scram on the pronto.”

“What, now? Are you crazy? I’ve just been shot.”

“Doesn’t matter. An incident like this sort of voids our amnesty deal with the Custom Pleasure Bureau and The Sixty. Not only that, but we’re kind of being recorded right now too.”

Flynn’s head flops to the side. “What do you mean, we’re being recorded?”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before, but a few weeks ago I got a weird feeling so I executed a top to bottom sweep of our new building and the surrounding perimeter. I found at least a half-dozen camerascopes imbedded in our rooms and three more secreted away in the brush outside. Someone must’ve come in and set them up when we were off the islands looking for staff. I guess you were right not to trust The Sixty’s management team and CPB board of directors. Insisting we have biometric identifiers inserted in our skin and recording everything we do—after all that went down, I suppose they still want to keep an eye on us.”

“Sheesh, I’m your damn partner here, Koko. You could’ve said something.”

“Well, it’s not like I could disable the camerascopes or anything. Biometric identifiers and a few visual recorders—I figured, meh, maybe it was just better to let sleeping dogs lie.”

“Where?”

Koko looks up and gestures. “Right now there’s one fixed directly above us at twelve o’clock. Ceiling fan, dead center. You see the raised bolt? On it there’s a lens about the size of a pharaoh ant. I’m just guessing, but it probably takes in the whole bar area.”

A bead of sweat drips into Flynn’s eye. “Oh, man. I guess that means—”

“Someone else saw you bawling like a baby? Yeah.” Koko motions with her chin to the burly-looking intruder knocked out on the floor. “So tell me, do you recognize her?”

Flynn shifts a bit. “I can’t see her face.”

“Lift that gorilla’s head so Master Flynn here can give her a look.”

Another two release specialists scurry over and shovel palms under the unconscious woman’s forehead. When the intruder’s crew-cut head tilts back, Flynn scrutinizes her features and a pair of zonked-out eyes.

“Oh, no. It can’t be,” he says.

“What?” Koko asks.

Flynn swings back. “She’s one of the two bounty agents I saw back on Alaungpaya. She was in the terminal area right before we escaped the Second Free Zone.”

Koko bites her lower lip. “Hmm, I thought so.”

“She was with that redhead, the one with the neck extension bands. What the hell is she doing here?”

“Ruining our lives, apparently.”

Wiping her brow with her forearm, Koko turns to yet another one of her employees—a female release specialist—and whips off the silk belt cinching the girl’s kimono together. Koko lowers herself down and gets busy securing the wad of towels to Flynn’s thigh.

“But Portia Delacompte is dead,” Flynn says. “I was there, Koko, remember? We both were. How can a dead woman still have bounty hunters after us? It doesn’t make sense.”

Koko finishes tying off the dressing. There’s no time to explain, but the logic is starting to add up to her. When they were fleeing the lower atmospheric sky-barge Alaungpaya, it’s true: she did take out two of the bounty agents who were pursuing them via her ex-friend Portia Delacompte’s brutal elimination order. The first was a suspected former professional athlete she plugged in Flynn’s quarters, and the second was that dolled-up redhead with the neck rings she decapitated on Alaungpaya’s flight deck right before they hijacked the septic freighter. At the time of the second agent’s demise, Flynn advised Koko there were two operatives on their immediate six, so now Koko forces herself to replay the whole deadly sequence of events in her head; how after the redhead’s head slammed down the portal shaft, Koko heard the bellow of someone crying out below. There wasn’t a lot of wiggle room for due diligence at the time, but her hunch is the unconscious woman who just shot Flynn is, in fact, the third bounty agent who was in the portal shaft. She must have survived the flight deck’s high altitude depressurization somehow.

“Listen,” Koko says, “all things being even it might be a matter of ego with this one, you know? If I were in her shoes I know unfinished business would have stuck in my craw. Back on Alaungpaya you told me there were two bounty agents on our immediate tail. For this one to survive an emergency depressurization at that altitude, I mean, I thought we were in the clear. What matters now is the payout on my elimination looks permanent.”

Flynn droops. Koko pats his arm.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Oh, sure. You’re sorry. Is that somehow supposed to make me feel better? Goddamn it, I really hate all this.”

“I know, getting shot really hurts.”

“No, not getting shot. I mean, that hurts, yeah, but I really hate all this. You and me, how when things start going good, everything just turns to shit.”

“Can you stand?”

“Did you miss my whole getting shot thing?”

“I’m serious, Flynn. You need to get up. We’ve a chance of getting out of here, but it’s a slim one at best.”

Flynn dabs at the blood-soaked towels secured with the kimono belt. Without being asked, several employees in the saloon rush over and, with some orchestration, get Flynn up on his feet. Somebody picks up Koko’s white walking cane and holds it out to her, but Koko waves it off. Even if she’s still recovering from the damages inflicted on her by Portia Delacompte, Koko is definitely of the mind that now is not the time to be relying on props.

Flynn hops and Koko drapes one of his clammy arms across her shoulders. The two release specialists Koko sent to retrieve the backpacks from the pantry return while, outside the saloon, the electric motoring sounds of the cargo ute and terra-sled draw near.

Flynn notices the backpacks. “What are those?”

Koko shifts Flynn’s weight against her body and discomfort twangs down her leg. “Bug-out packs,” she explains. “A few thousand credits, minimal rations, a couple of side arms, NBC-protective suits, potable water, stuff like that.” Together they limp around the fallen bounty agent. “Here, watch your step.”

Flynn looks over his shoulder. “Wait, we’re just going to leave her like that? But she could come after us. Shouldn’t we, like, do something?”

Koko stops. “Oh, so you want me to kill her, is that it?”

“Well, I know it sounds cold-blooded, but it seems sensible.”

“Sensible? Oh, really? Hmm, maybe you want me to bite out one of her eyes for good measure while I’m at it.”

“I didn’t say you had to go to extremes.”

Koko resumes dragging Flynn forward, adding sarcastically, “You know, I seem to recall a short time ago a certain somebody complaining about how I should turn over a new leaf. Gee, how did he put it? Broaden my emotional capacities? Embrace my softer, gentler side?”

“I was talking about with us. I mean—”

“You know what, Flynn? I don’t want to hear it. Not now. If SI Security is on their way here that bounty agent is their problem, not ours. They’ll deal with her. Priority one for us is to get good and gone.”

Flynn looks over his shoulder once more at the saloon’s main bar area and hesitates. Fleetingly Koko wonders if he’s stalling because he wants to take his chances with SI Security. Koko supposes she really can’t blame him for being freaked. Yeah, sure, he used to be a cop, but being hunted down on a dead woman’s orders, this sort of psycho scenario is in Koko’s wheelhouse, not his. As the traumatized saloon staff watch them leave, a few of the release specialists start to cry.

“What about them?” Flynn asks.

Koko knows who he means, but she keeps her mouth shut and her eyes fixed straight ahead. Before she met up with him in the Second Free Zone on Alaungpaya, Koko had fought her way out of a whole smorgasbord of hellacious situations and not once in all those times has looking back ever helped.

“They’ll be fine,” Koko says. “Somebody will take over this joint. I mean, all the work we’ve done getting the saloon ready and all the promotions? The whole operation is practically turn-key.”

She resumes getting Flynn out of the building with as little pain as possible. Passing through the batwings and making their way across the broad boards of the front porch, Koko fully expects to hear the hooting blares of SI Security sirens at any moment. Lightning flashes and after a deafening thunder crack, the savage downpour that had been threatening all afternoon cuts loose, and the straight-nailed monsoon rain sounds just like a round of applause.

COCHON DE LAIT: HORACE BRITCH

Horace Britch is about to sink his teeth into a kebab of suckling boar meat when his shoulder’s epaulette mic warbles.