Tailspin, page 1
Pilots of Artem:
TAILSPIN
Dawn Chapman
Tailspin - City of Artem
Copyright © 2023 by Dawn Chapman
Artem World created in © 2022 by
Dawn Chapman
Jez Cajiao
Lars Machmüller
Kevin Sinclair
Cover by - Rashedjrs
Internal art by – Lee KH
Typography by - Sarah Anderson Vivien
Editing by Chimera aka Jami Nord and Emmie Mears
Formatting by - Emily Godhand
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the internet without the permission of the author and is a violation of the international copyright law, which subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.
This is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, incidents, and place are products of the author’s imaginations and are not to be construed as real except where noted, and authorized. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events are entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
The author and editors have taken great effort in presenting a manuscript free of errors. However, editing errors are ultimately the responsibility of the author.
This book is written in US English and includes relative diction.
Table of Contents
Dedication
0-Pim
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9-Pim
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18-Shay
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27-Shay
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36-Shay
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45-Shay
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54-Shay/Anada
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63-Shay/Anada
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72-Shay/Janet
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81-Janet/Shay
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90-Shay/Janet
91
92
93
94
95
END OF BOOK X
In Memoriam
World of Artem
Acknowledgments
About Dawn Chapman
Other Recommended books
Dedication
To the guys who helped make this world possible :)
Jez Cajiao
Lars Machmüller
Kevin Sinclair
And a special thanks as always goes to,
Michael Chatfield, K.T. Hanna and Luke Chmilenko.
From 2020 it’s been extremely tough, but this last twelve months has been the worst.
Honestly don’t know where I’d be without you three.
For Paul, and my family.
Onwards we go!
x X x
0-Pim
Artem City
Outer Slums
Molsk
The pen was a bouncing jumble of fur, metal tech, and squeaking. Its rusted hinges threatened to give way with every vibration. Pim’s brothers and sisters leaped all around him. With a shake of his head, the tiniest of them all could only crawl out of the way and join Pim hiding in the corner.
They were the same every day, and they were always disappointed.
Nobody wanted mutts. Even smart mutts.
Nobody wanted part fur, part metal, and all noise.
He looked across at his brothers and sisters; they calmed down now, realizing once more no one had approached their pen.
They were not wanted.
Then Pim saw him. A sharply dressed man who stared at him, contemplation etched on his deeply wrinkled forehead. The shopkeeper beside him hurriedly looked through drawer after drawer.
“I have it here. Mr. Sinnister. I swear I do,” he muttered.
The man said nothing, his foot tapping slightly on the dirty floor.
“Davey, get out here. You cleared my papers; where’s the contract?” As the shopkeeper’s words grew louder and louder, his face changed from pink to bright red. “Davey! Get out here now!”
No one came.
The suited man never took his eyes off of Pim.
“Davey, I swear, if you don’t get out here right now!”
The shopkeeper’s shouting grew even more desperate, his face flushed and his chest heaving in and out. “I swear, we don’t owe that much.”
The man ignored the shopkeeper and edged forward. “What is it? It looks like a fat dog crossed with a rat.”
“Never seen a walrat?” the shopkeeper inquired; his tone was suddenly different, so very different. That caused the tiny bundle next to Pim to cover his head once more.
“Dumpy little thing,” the man said. “I don’t care how you do it; just get those credits.”
Large hands reached over the pen fencing, and his siblings began jumping up and down, trying to be spotted first.
This man, though, had his sights set on the smallest, Pim’s little brother.
“The Techean created them, cross between a walrus and a rat. Good at depths, and smart. Don’t know why they domesticated them here, but they did. I like them, they sell well as pets.”
“Son’s birthday is in a few days; this will suffice. I’m taking it.”
“Hardly worth anything, that one,” the shopkeeper grumbled. “Doesn’t even try to market himself.” He went to another pen and chose a long-haired white rabbit. “This is one of our most cherished frishon adairs. Several thousand credits.”
“I don’t want anything worth thousands of credits.” Something in this man’s eyes echoed what was in Pim’s heart, overwhelming sadness. Pim sucked in a breath and almost choked. “He’ll most certainly kill it in a few days.”
“Kill?” The owner’s face paled, and his breathing became even more rapid. He repositioned the rabbit so the man could no longer see it. The man didn’t care. His fixation was on Pim.
The young walrat watched as he picked up one of his brothers with such rough hands, he let out a whimper and tried his best to flee.
“Sir, you have one of Artem’s smartest creatures in your hands; why would he kill it?”
They had all heard the words kill, death, and the end.
The man met the shopkeeper’s eyes with his own. “They are odd; a walrat, you say. Smart?”
“Extremely smart,” the shopkeeper replied, his hands trembling. “That one is best out of the litter.”
When his brother’s eyes met Pim’s, tears welled up inside his own. “No.”
Pim sucked in a breath and puffed out his chest in an attempt to make him seem the better choice. He had to make a stand now or he would lose his brother. He could not let him die. His brother really was the best of the litter.
Pim’s tech looked awful against his drab coat, whereas his brothers were all shiny and pure. He edged forward, slow and low.
This was his choice, and he made it with only one thought in his mind. His brother needed to survive.
“Pim, Pim!” his brother cried out, as tears flowed down over his soft white fur. “No. Bite him and flee…”
Pim nudged the man’s other hand with his nose, bringing the attention back to him.
“Very smart,” the man agreed and put the dark-furred kit aside to pick up the interested one.
“Be thankful,” Pim said. “Live long and well, brother. Live for all of us.”
***
Pim was jostled about as the man walked, crammed into a very small box with a window at one end.
Pim tried his hardest to stay close enough to the window to get some fresh air and see what was going on outside. He’d sat at the edge of their cage for a long time, viewing anything he could from the outside world.
The breeze carried aromas of something moist and musty. Images flashed by at breakneck speed.
Slowly, he said. Please slow down.
&
Pim was thrown inside a car, and it filled his perspective. As his back leg twisted awkwardly under him, he let out a growl.
“Don’t have any notions in there,” cautioned the man who had taken him.
Pim slid to the rear of his box. There was nothing to see now, save the back of the man’s seat.
Everything vibrated around him, followed by acceleration. Were they flying? Pim could sense it, but he didn’t know how. This was strange since the man wasn’t walking anymore, yet it was quick, so fast. Pim retched as his stomach somersaulted.
“You had better not be sick back there!”
Pim concentrated deeply into himself. Words from his mother came to him as he travelled through the birth canal and entered the world. “You must endure for the sake of all of us.”
He endured. He gulped the bile down, which burned his throat as it passed. He then pushed himself to step into the corner, curl up, and pull up his HUD, noting many variations.
He wasn’t a month old when he and his siblings had been taken from the comfort and warmth of their mother, and a keystone mod roughly inserted at the back of his neck.
Now connected to the system that governed Artem, he soon started to learn what he was and what he wanted out of life. Was he too young for it? Maybe.
Identification: Pim
Age: 42 days
Weight: 6 lb
Weight: Adult ??
Species: Walrat
Bonus: Minus 1 to strength.
Mod Capacity: 8 = MP + TOU
Mod Capacity in Use: 0
Stat
Current Points
Description
Mods
Quality
Dexterity
4
Governs agility and movement.
Front Left and Right Leg Mod: 0
Cost: 0
Mental Power
4
Governs swiftness and fortitude of the mind.
Brain Mod: 0
Cost: 0
Perception
8
Governs an individual’s senses and connection to the world around them.
Brain Mod:
Cost: 0
Strength
4 *Minus 1*
Total = 3
Governs physical strength and damage dealt.
Back Left and Right Leg Mod: 0
Cost: 0
Toughness
4
Governs the body and internal fortitude.
Basic Organelles:
Cost: 0
His leg was swollen but not broken. He stretched it towards him, then softly licked it and preened the fur as best he could to get it straight again so he could look his finest.
1
Artem City
Inner City, Upper Ferris.
I turned over in my bed; the springs squeaked, and I stared up as the view of the cracked ceiling above me faded. Like a wave, Aug-World took over my whole room, and the ceiling was replaced by perfectly painted, yet old-school cornice, swirling-patterned and plastered crap I knew as artex, and a glittering white and metallic ceiling fan. The fan was always on no matter how much I tried to get it to turn off. Instinctively, I shivered at the cold air blowing over my semi-naked form even if it wasn’t real.
I always appreciated the space I had set up using my credits in Aug-World, and I could only dream that my dilapidated broken bedroom could one day look like this.
The stained sheets also turned white, the floor grew a carpet, and the door made of chipboard turned into varnished oak. Instead of the stench of mold, my nose was touched gently with the scent of pine and oh, gods, soap. What I wouldn’t give for a shower with soap right now . . . just like using hot water, we’d run out, and food took priority.
This trip into the higher tiered area in Aug-World was likely my last for a while. To spend time in this area cost money, and it was all I had left in credits. I couldn’t even sell them, they were so few, so I’d chosen to use them, and this morning I was meeting Bail in one of the most expensive areas of Upper Ferris.
Bail was my best friend. We’d known each other since preschool, and even though my mom had pulled me out because of costs, choosing to homeschool me till we got our keystone mods, we’d stayed close.
With my mind, I dangled my feet over the end of the bed. They touched the carpet, feeling the soft pile underneath them, and I scrunched my toes into it. My feet were just as clean as the room. That I had wished, too, though I knew they were not. Not at all.
Even though my body never really moved, I stood, testing my feet. Then I sat back down to put boots on. I didn’t hesitate when I headed for the door and exited our housing block. The dank dirty streets, like myself and my room, were pristine, where high-rise buildings that had been made of anything going were now designed to the hilt, seemingly made from the finest bricks, metals, and woods money could buy. I walked fast, taking turn after turn. I had no credits for instant travel, and that meant I had to walk.
My concrete city gradually turned into a suburban collection of streets with houses and gardens as I walked. Cherry blossom trees decorated this street, and today they’d decided to bloom. I paused to take in the very subtle yet drifting smell of lilac, rose, and almonds, looking up the street to Rankin’s chop shop, the sun in the distance.
This. This was beyond beautiful, and I stared for quite some time before heading down to the shop. I wished I could use Aug-World all the time, but it cost credits, credits I couldn’t spare right now.
Bail’s leather jacket, padded combat pants, and red spider T-shirt were easy to spot on the other side of the street as he stood waiting for me. I coughed on my approach, added in a “Hey,” and he turned.
“You sure you want to do this?” Bail asked. His bright glasses, his recent choice of eye tech, were glinting in the sunlight. He was not rich by any means, but he’d saved just as hard as I had for an upgrade. Even if this was the cheapest version going, it was still better than “normal” eyes.
“You want that part for the car, don’t you?”
Bail lowered his head, his face flushed. “If I can get it in today, it would really give you an extra edge for the race tonight.”
“If you think he’ll deliver it, and you can install it before the race, then we’re buying it. We decided weeks ago that we would if I could get enough credits.”
I moved to push the shop door open, but he put his hand out to stop me. “Rus, you’re getting evicted. You could really use that money. Stay in the block.”
I put my hand on his. “Sergeant Vrolk is going to kick us out, even with the money. This is about principle now.”
“If you win tonight, you’ll have more than enough money, right?”
On the inside, I grimaced, but he deserved honesty. He and our other friend, Daisy, had totally backed me a hundred percent, always. “I don’t know, Bail,” I said. “Every day, what we owe goes up, and I can’t guess it. It could be a lot more than what I win tonight.”
Bail’s usual grin fell, and he frowned so deeply it added ten years to him. “I don’t want to lose you.”
I slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot, where am I gonna go? The best jobs are around here; add in the extra money from racing, it’s a win-win.”
“Rus—” he carried on.
I turned away and finally pushed open the door, entering Rankin’s shop.
It was easy to get lost in Aug-Word, wandering around the shelves, checking out the car parts and prices. The tech he had in here. So easy. I didn’t have anywhere near enough credits to get lost or to enjoy browsing. Not anymore. I checked my remaining time.
Aug-World Credits = 0
Time Remaining = 12 minutes.
I never had enough time. I never had enough money, or well, I just never had enough of anything.
Rankin’s stony eyes never left me, and he watched my every move in his domain; he had seen me before, many times. He’d also chased my ass out many times.
“Come on, kid, you shouldn’t be in here. This is a shop, not a place to keep browsing.”
“Bail?” I called, knowing Rankin had been watching him, as well. That guy had cameras everywhere, even though this “shop” was fully online, a virtual world which imitated one of the real ones he might have, somewhere.
