The Deaths of Tao Read Free

the close call; how she almost lost Baji and almost never saw Cameron again. And then she thought of Roen. She clenched her fist, downed the last shot of tequila, and slammed the glass down on the table. With newfound purpose, she hurried out of the bar and hailed a cab.
    The sooner we get back to safety the better.  
    “I’m not going to a safe house.”
    Where are you going then?  
    “I’m going to go find my husband.”

 
    TWO
    BUCK'S
    The crash. A calamity. With over six million Quasing on board, the ship had accidentally passed through an asteroid field and was crippled. It fought to stay intact longer than we thought possible. Courageously, the ship limped through space, dying and desperate to find a place to land. That was when we entered your galaxy.  
    The Grand Council identified a planet in this solar system that contained atmospheres the Quasing could survive in, though the planet offered them in billions of tiny moving pockets. It was then we realized these pockets of atmosphere were the indigenous life forms on the planet. We had little choice and set a course for the planet we now call Earth.  
    Tao
     
    The biggest mistake of the twentieth century. Go.  
    “I’m going to have to say that art school rejecting Hitler’s application, leading him toward the career choice of becoming a mass murderer. That or New Coke. You?”
    The Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941 or the 1948 presidential election when the Democrats failed to elect Henry Wallace as Vice President.  
    “Never got over it, huh? Over half a century later and you’re still bitter.”
    Wallace was Roosevelt’s spiritual successor. The world could have been so much different.  
    “You’re just mad because he was the closest you ever got to being president.”
    I spent two decades maneuvering him for the presidency!  
    Roen Tan pulled into the gravel lot in his Chevy Impala and studied the cars parked there: Jimmy’s; Amy’s; Chipmunk Voice Weird Guy’s; the owner, Dan’s; and the Raisin’s. He checked the mirror for any blood on his face. Some of the fighting on the roof had gotten very up close and personal.
    He noted his sunken cheeks and the four-day fuzz on his chin. His black hair, cropped in a crooked faux hawk, was tangled and uneven. Satisfied, he parked the car, reached into the back seat for his cowboy hat, and stuffed his pistol into his jeans.
    He got out and circled around to the front. One thing about rural roadside bars off the highway in the middle of the Appalachians, the patrons were usually the same folks coming in and out, and there wasn’t a bouncer patting you down. That last part was especially important. Roen felt his knife sheath slide down his ankle. He’d have to poke a tighter hole soon. His new weight loss regime of eating only once a day must have reached his calves.
    He swung the door open and tipped his hat to Amy, the bartender. She was the hottest young thing within a hundred kilometers, which, truth be told, was probably a sample size of about a thousand and most of them men. He also suspected she was pushing forty.
    “Charlie,” she nodded. “A late night? We’re closing in a bit.”
    “Just a drink or three, ma’am,” he replied. “I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”
    “No worries, cowboy,” she smirked.
    You know she does not believe you for a second…  
    “I’m practicing for a time when I have to really pull it off.”
    When that time comes, let us hope your life is not depending on it.  
    Roen wasn’t that oblivious. He knew she didn’t call him cowboy because she actually thought he was one. He tried his best to emulate the southern mountain dialect of the people here, but he sounded silly. Still, it amused the locals, and over the past year, they had grown to tolerate his presence. It was one thing to be a stranger, but it was another entirely to be one who tried to fit in. It’s those who didn’t try who tended to piss them off. Still, he was a