Medusa

By Michael T Ashgillian

When a genius in Artificial Intelligence dies, two competing companies battle to crack the most intelligent computer game ever developed. How far will they go to win? This is one in a series of six short stories by David P Elliot from an anthology published under the title 'Pieces of Fate'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Cap Publishing
• Release date: Apr 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9780956885708

Michael T Ashgillian

David P Elliot was born in Reading in the UK and, apart from 8 years in the Police Service in the 1970s, he spent almost 30 years in the IT industry before leaving to concentrate on his first love, writing. His debut novel ‘CLAN’, to which ‘The Gathering’ is a sequel, is a historical, supernatural thriller, first published in December 2008 and so far has sold in 16 countries, as well as being translated into German and can be downloaded as an audio book in MP3 or iPod formats narrated by the author. He has 3 grown up children and 3 grandchildren one of which inspired the novel. He now lives in Faringdon UK, with his partner Monika, a native of Munich. ‘Pieces of Fate’ his second book is an anthology of short stories in the ‘Tales of the Unexpected’ mode and is available in paperback or as an e-book, with the individual stories available only in e-book form. He is also working on developing ‘Clan’ as a feature film. You can find out more at www.davidpelliot.com

Book preview

Part of the ‘Pieces of Fate’ Series

RED CAP PUBLISHING

Red Cap Publishing

MEDUSA

David P Elliot

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © David P Elliot 2010, 2011

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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 you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, events and places are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used totally fictitiously.

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 (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

Cover Artwork by DARE

MEDUSA

ONE

Karl Hudsucker hated this shit.

The countryside was for wild animals, not for humans. In fact, he saw no point in it, whatsoever - wild animals or the countryside for that matter.

There was nothing he wanted out here that he couldn’t have in his apartment in Manhattan or in any decent five star hotel anywhere in the World.

Nothing, that is, except Seamus Underling.

Underling lived in, what Hudsucker considered a shack in the middle of woods in New Hampshire.

It had taken him hours to drive here, and as he stepped out of the car, feeling his expensive Italian shoes sinking into vile, clinging mud, he looked at the dark, semi-derelict wooden cabin, surrounded on all sides by trees and darkness.

The cabin was a silhouette against a sky lit by a full moon, its light made milky by the thin, scudding clouds that passed across its face, riding on some slight breeze not present at ground level.

A pale, flickering orange/yellow light emanated from the windows and was so weak that, rather than being a welcoming sign of warmth inside, it gave the impression that they were the last flickering embers in a fire that was slowly dying in the wood.

A thin, wispy plume of smoke trailed from the chimney, suggesting the remnants of an open fire inside would provide very little in the way of comfort in this scene of rural decay that Underling chose to inhabit.

Hudsucker pushed open the door and strode in without knocking. ‘That generator cost me a fortune to install all the way out here; if you choose to live in the middle of nowhere, you might at least use it and put some lights on.’

The sight that greeted him was bizarre in the extreme. The cabin which consisted of one large room was filthy. Piles of unwashed clothing, books and magazines were spread across the floor and buckets, pots and pans, presumably strategically positioned to catch leaks that seeped through the roof when it rained, were still half-filled with stagnant water.

A stone sink in one corner was filled with dirty pans, cutlery and dishes and a single, rusting tap dripped relentlessly onto the pile of unwashed detritus.

A large wooden table was covered with opened tins still with vicious looking lids half removed; unidentifiable remnants of moulding food festered in the bottom, and Hudsucker shuddered at the thought of the animal droppings, cockroaches and rats that no doubt infested this filth.

A huge stone open fire smouldered against one wall, the flames seeming weak on the pile of ashes that