New Title 2, page 1
Voices from Punktown
by Jeffrey Thomas
Dark Regions Press
2010
Kindle Edition
Text Copyright © 2008 by Jeffrey Thomas
Cover art © 2008 by Travis Anthony Soumis
Digital Edition © 2010
Cover design and eBook formatting:
David G. Barnett/Fat Cat Graphic Design
http://www.fatcatgraphicdesign.com
Also available in a trade paperback
ISBN: 978-1-888993-63-9
Dark Regions Press
PO Box 1264
Colusa, CA 95932
http://www.darkregions.com
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Publication History:
“Johnny Pharaoh” is original to this collection.
“Do You Know This Girl?” first appeared in the CD-ROM anthology Tooth and Claw, Volume 1, Lone Wolf Publications, 2002.
“Monsters” first appeared in the collection Thirteen Specimens, Delirium Books, 2006, and later in the paperback version of the German language Punktown, Festa Verlag, 2006.
“Mourning Cloak” first appeared in the chapbook Icarus and Angels, Obelesk Books, 1996, and later as a bonus story in the 26-copy limited edition of Punktown: Shades of Grey, Bedlam Press, 2005.
“The Reflections of Ghosts” (graphic novel script) is original to this collection but based upon the story “The Reflections of Ghosts,” collected in the book Punktown, Ministry of Whimsy Press, 2000.
“The Color Shrain” first appeared as a bonus story in the 26-copy limited edition Punktown Ultra, Delirium Books, 2003, later in the anthology Punktown: Third Eye, Prime Books, 2004, and in both versions of the German language Punktown, Festa Verlag, hardcover 2003, paperback 2006.
“Trash” is original to this collection.
“Behind the Masque” first appeared in the anthology Lost on the Darkside, ROC, 2005.
“Forge Park” first appeared in the electronic publication The Black Book, 2002.
“The Dance of Ugghiutu” first appeared in the hardcover edition of the German language Punktown, Festa Verlag, 2003, and later in the publication Dark Discoveries, issue #4, 2005.
“The Bones of the Old Ones” first appeared in the chapbook The Bones of the Old Ones, Necropolitan Press, 1995, and later in the collection Unholy Dimensions, Mythos Books, 2005.
Contents
Introduction
Johnny Pharaoh
Do You Know This Girl?
Monsters
Mourning Cloak
The Reflections of Ghosts (graphic novel script)
The Color Shrain
Trash
Behind the Masque
Forge Park
The Dance of Ugghiutu
The Bones of the Old Ones
About the Author
Introduction
by Jeffrey Thomas
I’ve introduced earlier books—and filled many an interview—with words on the origins of my milieu of Punktown, and so for this collection I’ll forego that, if more for my benefit than your own. But with those earlier books in mind, I will put into perspective the collection you now hold in your hands, in regard to what has come before and when. As of the time of this writing, the Punktown books that have previously appeared are:
PUNKTOWN, short story collection, Ministry of Whimsy Press, 2000
MONSTROCITY, novel, Prime Books, 2003
PUNKTOWN (German translation, limited hardcover), collection, Festa Verlag, 2003
EVERYBODY SCREAM!, novel, Raw Dog Screaming Press, 2004
PUNKTOWN: THIRD EYE, shared world anthology, Prime Books, 2004
PUNKTOWN (expanded edition), collection, Prime Books, 2005
MONSTROCITY (German translation), novel, Festa Verlag, 2005
PUNKTOWN: SHADES OF GREY (with Scott Thomas), collection, Bedlam Press, 2005
PUNKTOWN (German translation, paperback edition with adjusted contents), collection, Festa Verlag, 2006
MONSTROCITY (Greek translation), novel, Oxy Press, 2006
DEADSTOCK, novel, Solaris, 2007
BLUE WAR, novel, Solaris, 2008
PUNKTOWN (Russian translation), collection, U-Factory Publishers, 2008
HEALTH AGENT, novel, Raw Dog Screaming Press, 2008
This list does not include extravagant and expensive collector’s editions of several of these books, printed in small numbers, or take into account that certain books were released in both hardcover and paperback versions simultaneously from the same publisher.
So I apologize, especially if this is your first visit, if I’m shoving you straight into the streets of my favorite city; I’m sure that can be disorienting, if not outright traumatic, for the unwary tourist. What can I say? This time out it’s sink or swim. But I will offer a few words on each of the stories you’ll find herein, and maybe that will give you some small measure of forewarning.
JOHNNY PHARAOH is original to the collection, written a few years back for a friend’s anthology which I’m sorry to say never panned out. You’ll see an ongoing theme with that situation (just as cloning is an ongoing theme in my Punktown stories, such as this one).
DO YOU KNOW THIS GIRL? was written for a CD-ROM anthology called Tooth and Claw, Volume 1 (and my brother Scott had a story in Volume 2, by the way). Interestingly, author Garrett Peck wrote a follow-up story called “How Well Do You Know Your Friend?” for Punktown: Third Eye, an anthology for which I invited a group of other writers to contribute their own stories set in Punktown. This marks this story’s first appearance in print form.
MONSTERS is reprinted from my collection Thirteen Specimens. I hate to include a story in one collection that can be found in another of my collections, but where it is a Punktown story, I thought it desirable to feature it here amongst its kin. I write every Punktown story so it can stand on its own, without having to read any other in order to “get” it. But while I feel a story like this one can be enjoyed independently, I also feel there’s another, even richer experience to be had reading it in the context of other Punktown stories, for a cumulative or tapestry effect. As Michael Marshall Smith has said of my Punktown stories, “together they create a whole even greater than the sum of their parts.”
MOURNING CLOAK has a funny history. It first appeared in the chapbook Icarus and Angels, and to better sell the story to an editor I knew was gay and looking for gay-themed material, I changed the protagonist of an unsold story from female (Helena) to male (Druce). The editor accepted Mourning Cloak in this transgendered state, and later went on to invite me to submit more stories for a number of mass market anthologies of gay erotica he was to edit. First off was a gay erotic Western anthology. At first I didn’t know what I could do with this invitation (I think it was the Western part that threw me off the most), but when my ex-wife offered to come up with an idea for me, I grew indignant and said, “Hey, wait a minute, I’m the writer here—I’ll come up with my own damn gay erotic Western!” So I wrote a story called “Scarlet” that appeared in a book titled Western Trails. Subsequently, I placed several additional stories with this editor, but what I did was take more preexisting stories of mine like “Fallen” (a horror story about a fallen angel, which can be found in its original state in my collection Aaaiiieee!!!) and “Heart for Heart’s Sake” (later, to appear in its original form in Punktown) and again change their protagonists from female to male, steaming things up more to boot. But as fate would have it, the editor and publisher had a falling out and only Western Trails was released (though my altered “Fallen” did appear in another chapbook from this editor called Green Echo). Mourning Cloak in its original incarnation has only appeared previously as a bonus story in a 26-copy lettered edition of Punktown: Shades of Grey, so this is essentially its first appearance, for a wide audience, as originally conceived.
THE REFLECTIONS OF GHOSTS (graphic novel script) is just what it says, an adaptation of the opening story of Punktown—probably my favorite of my short stories. It’s been reprinted a good number of times, but I thought it might be of interest to see how I envisioned it for such a format. Twice I’ve been approached about having a graphic novel version done of this story, with some really cool conceptual art and opening frames coming about as a result, but sorry to say such a project has as yet not progressed beyond that point. It may also be of interest to know that I scripted this on note paper while at my then job as a proofreader for a printing company, without having the actual story in front of me for reference—but it varies slightly from the story more for the sake of economy than out of forgetfulness.
THE COLOR SHRAIN is another favorite of my Punktown stories, so you’ll excuse me if I include it here. You see, it can also be found in the aforementioned shared world anthology Punktown: Third Eye. Again, though, for the sake of completeness I thought I should include it here amongst my own work exclusively. Before Third Eye it appeared in the German language Punktown (as “Die Farbe Schrain”*), but it was in fact written initially for a 26-copy lettered edition of Punktown (with the same contents as the expanded Prime Books edition, except for the addition of this bonus story) produced by Delirium Books for their Ultra Series. Thos
TRASH is a mini story that I penned as an inscription to a fan/friend of mine named Keith B. Johnston on the front page of his copy of Punktown, just sort of winging it as I went along. I feel badly including it here, as I believe I also wrote something to the effect that this wee tale was for Keith and Keith alone. Well, again, for the sake of completeness I decided to add it to these contents, but if it’s of any consolation to Keith, at least he’s being discussed here—and he still owns the handwritten original!
BEHIND THE MASQUE was, I’ll admit it, written for a collection of stories involving Edgar Allan Poe and was promptly rejected—harumph! Well, it was accepted for the very nice mass market anthology Lost on the Darkside, so I feel vindicated. Though receiving my payment for its inclusion in that book would have been nice. Harumph!
FORGE PARK has its first appearance in print here, previously seen only in the electronic magazine Black Book, though like many of my stories it was written for a physical book that has sadly never come to fruition. The title was inspired by the Forge Park train station in Franklin, MA; I just liked the weird combination of the fiery and industrial “forge” with the restful and pastoral “park.” Whereas the preceding story revolves around Poe, and the next two give nods to H. P. Lovecraft, this one pays tribute to Robert Chambers and what I guess you’d call the Yellow Sign Mythos. The artists’ colony of Forge Park was later used in the story that follows, as well…
THE DANCE OF UGGHIUTU was, again, written for an anthology that was never to be. (Am I a jinx?) It has a connection to Monstrocity, as it makes use of the god-like entity Ugghiutu at the heart of that novel, though I first conceived of him for a short story called “The Temple of Ugghiutu” which I later found myself without a copy of, and thus rewrote from memory as a little story-within-a-story for Monstrocity. Got all that? By the way, if National Geographic is to be believed, the Cthulhu-like name Ugghiutu refers to octopi or some kind of octopus dish in Sicilian, hence my using it for this sinister purpose.
THE BONES OF THE OLD ONES is another of my stories that I was hesitant to include here, because it leads off my collection of Lovecraftian tales, Unholy Dimensions, but again I felt it functions both as Cthulhu Mythos story and Punktown story and thus has every right to occupy a place in this volume, too—so there. (There are two sequels that follow in Unholy Dimensions, but they don’t take place in the city of Punktown itself, so…) This is another of my favorite Punktown short stories, and maybe my favorite of all my Mythos stories. Did I say, “So there?”
Hm; maybe I didn’t strand you in the city without benefit of a map, after all, if any of this has prepared you for what is to follow—though you may have gleaned more about the twists and turns of my mind than about the streets and alleys of Punktown itself.
Or are they not one and the same?
Johnny Pharaoh
“I’m afraid there’s been a terrible mistake.”
The man seated on the edge of the bed looked up at the person who had just opened the door to his room. It was like a private hospital room, clean and sterile, with a VT/comp on a little table and a single window. Shortly after awakening, the man on the bed had gone over to part that window’s curtains and gaze outside, just to be sure he at least recognized the city he was in.
He had felt relief to see he was still in the megalopolis of Paxton, an Earth-based colony on the planet Oasis more commonly spoken of as Punktown. He loved this damn city. He associated it with a quote from Dante: “Now son, the City of Dis (Satan) draws near, with its grave citizens.” Hell right, City of Dis. He’d been reassured by the familiar skyline of buildings seemingly packed into one solid body, an ocean of structures as far as the eye could see, some of them soaring so high they vanished in a golden morning haze. Yes, it was morning, and the man on the bed could detect the alluring scent of coffee through the doorway framing his visitor, whose white lab coat hung open to show the expensive street clothes beneath. This visitor could easily afford expensive clothes, even though he was not a licensed doctor. And this was only like a private hospital room. The man on the bed understood that much, at least.
“I’ll say there’s been a terrible mistake,” he growled. He hated the sound of his own voice—if it could be called his own voice. The words he had just uttered should have been a deep, ominous rumble from a chest wider than the threshold that lab-smocked doctor wannabe was hovering in (as if afraid to step fully into the wannabe hospital room). His voice should be like a tiger’s warning rumble, a tiger with chunks of gravel grating in its throat. But this voice…to him it sounded like a librarian irritated that a book was being returned a week late.
Mr. Lab Smock ventured a few steps into the room; maybe the weakness of that voice had put him at ease a bit. “I take it the technician told you where you are, Mr. Phillips.”
“Don’t call me that!” The man on the bed rose to his feet, expecting to tower over the doctor wannabe. Instead, he found himself a few inches shorter. “My name is Johnny Pharaoh! I told your blasting tech that!”
“But did he tell you…”
“He didn’t tell me where I am—I sent that worm running for his mommy—but I’ve figured it out for myself. I’m in the Phoenix Clinic. Illegal cloning facility.”
The lab-coated man seemed to wince at the unsavory word “illegal.” “Yes, yes, the Phoenix Clinic, that’s correct. You’ve been here before…ah, Mr. Pharaoh.”
“Obviously, since you had my memories on file. And my body, too. So why aren’t they together? What are my memories doing in this sad scrap of flesh?” He thumped his bony chest through the orange jumpsuit they had dressed the fresh clone in. The thump hurt him, hurt this body that mocked him. Good. He’d like to torture it, dismember it—if he could only get his mind outside of it first.
“Well, sir, there was a mix-up, as embarrassing and unprofessional as that sounds. A human error. The body of John Phillips was cloned—that’s, um, the body you’re in right now—but the wrong file was accessed and input, via a brain drip of memory-encoded long-chain molecules in the process that I’m sure someone described to you when you stored your materials at our facility two years ago. Our files are alphabetical. John Phillips…John Pharaoh.” The man chuckled uncomfortably, as if he hoped Johnny would appreciate the humor in it.
“I see you screen your employees well. And speaking of incompetents, what’s your name, Dr. Frankenstein?”
“Oh, so sorry…I’m Alvarez, Richard Alvarez.” Alvarez extended his hand. His face flickered when he saw Johnny glare at the appendage as if he had just opened up his fly to expose himself, and he dropped his hand back to his side. “Ah, in any case, what we need to do now is…”
“So how did I die?” Johnny interrupted. Was it the skirmishing with the Neptune Teeb Family, Punktown’s most powerful syndicate? Or had that thing with the Ng Yueh-sheng Triad escalated into something serious? Or was it some new conflict that had occurred in the two years since he had left his memory file here, and the tissues from which his body was to be illegally cloned in the event of an untimely demise? Probably the Teeb conflict, he figured; that had been why he’d thought to pay all that credit to have himself put on file at this hush-hush clinic in the first place.
“Ah, well, that’s just it, sir. You didn’t die.”
“Pardon?”
“You, John Pharaoh, didn’t die. John Phillips died. He’s a stock market consultant, who perished in a shuttle accident while returning to Oasis from a conference at Port Haven station. So we successfully resurrected his body, according to his contract with us…but again, it’s just that the wrong file was pulled for his memories.”
