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Davek looked forlornly out the window of his high rise apartment at all the cars whizzing through the air. He was being kicked out shortly for failing to pay the rent. In a few days he’d be forced to move down below the smog level--where the streets were filled with sludge cubes and vagrants--and he’d probably never see the clear sky again.

 

His tablet beeped an incoming call at him and he answered, prepared to yell at his landlord again that he’d get the cash soon.

 

Leena’s face appeared on the screen, her eye twitching as usual. “Hey, Dav, I got something for you, maybe, not sure, could be good, thought you’d want to know, you might like it, could be worth your time, might-”

 

“Shit, yes, awesome Lee, what is it, chron? Coke? Jax?” His heart soared. The drug running business had been slim to none the past few months. He told himself it was the recent meteor crash that had everyone scared to go outdoors, but he knew inside that the truth was worse. No one needed mules like him anymore, they all used drones or bots. Old fashion swallowing, inserting, or surgical implantation of illicit goods was fading by the wayside of modern techniques.

 

“No, man no,” Leena started, “Not drugs, something else, alive stuff, animal parts? I’m not sure, illegal, but not drugs, for scientists or something, research, secret stuff, could be good, might want to-”

 

“Great, uh, yeah, who’s it through? Baxter?” Davek felt the first warning twinge that something wasn't right. This sounded like it could be weapon related, and that upped the danger factor by a huge amount.

 

“No man, no, not usual contacts, good though, I vouch for them, I think they’re with the government but-”

 

“Oh not the government, this is a sting you stupid-”

 

“No, promise, not sting, not a trap, referred to me through Redd, Baxter vouched, pays well, give it a chance, just talk and negotiate, you can see about details, might be-”

 

“Okay, okay, Jesus, fine,” Davek ran a hand through his hair, considering going to prison, and considering being forced to live on the street with the sludge cubes. “Right, give me the contact info.”

 

He saved the info to his tablet and leaned back in his ratty but soft armchair, letting out a sigh.

 

On one hand it would pay good--he just knew it would, this kind of sketchy stuff always paid way good--but on the other, the government.

 

The president was on the 3V again, standing in front of a small crowd, talking about how he was going to solve the pollution problem once and for all, and this time without interference from corporate interests and blah blah blah. The camera panned over piles and piles of sludge cubes.

 

With a pained grimace, Davek called the number.

 

~

 

“So you’re the mule, eh?” The guy wore a sharp suit and shades that had no purpose in the parking garage they were loitering in. “Don’t look the type to me. Kinda scrawny.”

 

“I’ve got lots of experience,” said Davek. “Any kinda drug, I’ve transported it.” What the hell was he doing here? This was nuts. He shot a glance at Leena scratching her arms and eyeing the parked cars. “Back me up Lee, you know I’m good.”

 

“Yeah I know, that’s why I said he’s your guy, I done plenty of jobs with him, yeah he’s good, yeah.”

 

The suit curled his lip and nodded. “Alright we’ll see. Look, what I’ve got doesn’t require the precautions you’re probably used to. No surgery, no special containers to insert anywhere. You just swallow it.”

 

“Swallow? How do I get it out when I get there? Wait for it to... come out naturally?”

 

“Not important right now.” The suit lifted the briefcase he was carrying and put a thumb on the clasp. “Are you in or what?”

 

The briefcase was the shiney metal kind. It looked real expensive. “Yeah, yeah I’m in.”

 

The suit popped the clasp. Inside were stacks of cash and some vials of a murky looking fluid.

 

He handed a bundle of bills to Davek. “Here’s half, you get the rest later.” The suit held up one of the vials. “This is what you’re transporting.”


Davek squinted at what looked like mud, and saw something squirm in it. “What the hell is that?”

 

“It’s perfectly safe, I assure you.”

 

Davek took the vial, it was warm against his fingers. “What is it, though, I don’t-”

 

“It’s safe, I’ve done this before, now just drink it and you can be on your way.”

 

Davek eyed the vial, then felt the weight of the bills in his hand and his decision was made. He thumbed the stopper and downed the brown water in one gulp. It tasted like the sludge cubes smelled. Something warm and wriggling squirmed down the back of his throat.

 

He coughed and spat. “Jesus, what was that?”

 

The suit snickered and looked at Leena. “If you ask me, that’s one sensitive mule. You sure about this guy?”

 

“Davek wiped his mouth.” No I’m good, I’m good.”

 

“Good.” The suit handed Davek an airline ticket. “You need to be on this flight. There will be a driver waiting for you in the airport, he’ll take you to the uh... extraction point.”

 

Davek’s stomach twinged, and he wasn’t sure if it was the thing he just swallowed.

 

~

 

The ticket was first class and they had a 3V for each seat. The president was talking about some big announcement again, but Davek could hardly pay attention when the plane took off and his stomach lurched. He closed his eyes and waited for it to be over.

 

Swirling colors played on the backs of his eyelids and he felt a gooey sensation in his gut. It was not unpleasant. The sterile cabin air became like a warm, safe blanket, and he slipped into sleep.

 

“Ni Hao.”

 

Davek opened blurry eyes with a start and looked around. “Eh?”

 

“Guten tag.” A pause, then “Bonjour.” The voice was androgynous and of indeterminate age. It seemed to be coming from nowhere and everywhere.

 

“Hola.”

 

“What do you want?” he said in a harsh whisper. Whoever it was must be working with the suit, keeping tabs on him or something. These government types were never very trustworthy.  

 

“Ah. English,” said the voice. “You did not respond to it the first time.”

 

“What?”

 

A pause. “Would you prefer another language?”

 

“I would prefer to know who the hell is talking to me!”

 

“Please remain calm.”

 

Davek felt calm radiate from his belly.

 

The voice continued. “There is no need to speak aloud. Formulate words clearly and forcefully as thoughts and I will detect them. Try it.”

 

Screw you, voice. Thought Davek as hard as he could.

 

“I do not parse the meaning of ‘screw you.’ “

 

Holy crap what is going on?

 

“It’s ok Davek, I will not harm you, just bring me where I need to be.”

 

Oh God. The thing I swallowed is talking to me! I gotta remind myself never to trust government spooks again.

 

“Your spooks have been very helpful to my kind. I look forward to this evening immensely.”

 

Me too. Davek suddenly could not wait to get whatever was in him, out, and get the rest of his cash.

 

The plane landed and he shuffled off into the airport where a bearded old man held a sign with Davek’s name on it.

 

“Hi,” said Davek.

 

“Get in,” said the man.

 

“I’m hungry,” said the voice.

 

Davek got in and they flew up and out of the smog and over the city.

 

They drew near the new White House, up on its spire above the filth of the city. “Wow,” said Davek. “Never been this close to the prez. What are we doing here anyway?”

 

The driver said nothing and dove through the putrid air. Davek saw the old White House, and piles of the sludge cubes stacked up nearby.  The president had been gathering them for whatever crazy scheme to get reelected he was cooking up this time.

 

Then Davek saw the craziest sight of all. The president himself, down in the smog, standing on the old White House lawn in front of a podium and crowd, cameras floating all around him.

 

The driver parked nearby and opened the door. “We’re finally here!” The voice said, and Davek felt the gooey, warm feeling surge in his gut. He stepped out of the car and walked toward the crowd, his legs taking on a mind of their own.

 

“Since technology allowed us to solidify the smog into these cubes,” the president was saying, “we have been slacking. With a perceived solution in place, we ignore the underlying problem of allowing our factories to run amok with no regulations all for the sake of profit. Now the smog still follows us, and the cubes pile up. We have two problems instead of one.”

 

Davek realized he was walking right toward one of the disgusting, dripping, greasy sludge cubes. But instead of the revulsion and intestinal squishiness he usually felt when he had to be near one, warmness and glee filled his belly.

 

The driver grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him away. “Over here, with the others.”

 

Davek let himself be led to a group of people standing rather near the president. Some of them looked familiar. With a start he saw Redd and Baxter, his mule job contacts. He waved at them but they stared intently forward at the president. They looked very hungry. Their eyes sparkled with desire.

 

“Time, time,” the voice was saying. “It’s almost time.” It was a moment before Davek realized the voice was his own.

 

The president went on and on. “But now we have a solution, a real one, to get rid of these sludge cubes and the pollutants in our air. And all without over-regulation that will stifle our economy and cost jobs. Ladies and gentlemen,” the president held up his hands. “Remember that old joke about how we’d destroy ourselves without extraterrestrial intervention, be it God or aliens? Well, it’s not God. And the rumours about that meteor strike are true.”

 

Davek felt a strong hand on his arm, and he and the others he’d been standing with--about a dozen of them--were ushered to the stage to stand behind the president.

 

What the hell is going on, Davek tried to say, but he only thought it.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the president said. “I present to you, our friends from across the galaxy, here to help us solve our problem.”

 

Davek’s legs moved, carrying him toward a microphone. “Hello,” he said unwillingly. “I am not an alien, as you can see, but am a willing host to one who is now living inside of me.” His amplified voice rang out over the confused crowd. “Our guests have traveled long and far to find a planet just like this one, with all they need to survive.”

 

Murmurs of curiosity spread through the crowd.

 

“I sure am hungry,” Davek said.

 

The president nodded, and Davek rushed to the pile of sludge cubes, the others seconds behind him. He plunged his hands into the greasy, putrid slop and mashed handful after handful into his mouth, swallowing convulsively. The taste of rot slicked his throat and tongue like oil and his stomach churned, but he could not stop.

 

“So good,” he said through mouthfuls. “So good.” A surge of warmth radiated from his belly, and he dug in more.

 

The smoggy air was silent but for the splattering wet sounds of the people around him stuffing their faces. Then the president spoke. “Our pollution problem is at an end! And all with no cost to anyone!”

 

The crowd, most of them very poor and hungry, cheered and lined up to find out how they could eat the sludge too.

mule

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