![]() Checking it, he found one head ripe enough to eat. If he could kill enough trees fast enough, and knock them over, without regrowth getting in his way, he could have space for a garden.Īlready, he had some space for a shaded vegetable patch, suited for cabbage. But it needed time to rot, so that he could push it over with ease. Checking the last one, he saw that the tree was well and truly dead. This he sliced the bark and underbark of to block the channels of nutrients going up the tree.Ĭhecking another one, and another, he found that those trees were dying. Slowly, trying to save energy, Haston walked further into the forest, and came to a tree. 'Bucketizing' and 'Unbucketizing' took up another third. Walking back and forth each morning and night took up a third of his energy budget. Water, sun, and vitamins, but it was a low energy existence. The sun beat down on him, and water mixed with photosyntheses causing cells in his green skin to provide him energy.įour hours later, and he swallowed a handful of multivitamins with a magical enhancer. Laying out on it, he peeled off most of the rest of his clothes, and stretched out. He also found signs that it had been used by men, so he sighed, and took the alternate path which took an extra two hours.įinally, he arrived at the sun rock, which was his private hideaway in the leaf clotted woods. Up a hill, into the undergrowth, and he found his regular trail. He passed through the warehouse, and looked about, and then out into the wilderness. Drinking the bucket of water, the full two gallons necessitated him popping out his lower stomach. His face looked pink, normal, and so did his hands, but other than that, he was green. Opening the upper flaps on his ears with a simple hand gesture to unfold, he listened with a hearing greatly heightened by the extra ear size for any watchers breathing as he passed from alley to alley, and then out to the warehouse on the edge of town where he dumped the bucket, and most of his daytime clothing after he filled the bucket with water from an unused except by him faucet on a metal pipe. Warming up, his metabolism rising from near hibernation, his implanted muscle cells having tightened his looseness up, he rose to his feet, and slipped out of the alley. Sucking in fresh, untainted air was a blessing, but no one looked in an old plastic bucket under a porch. And Kenneth wanted to make his own way, not have to work ten years to get some small psi-mod or magical alteration which he could buy with a few months of labor, but in a faction he would be having all his excess sopped up by the faction's elites who were aiming to turn themselves into magic mechbods. If one didn't hide, then getting enslaved by one of the factions that ran things was a lively possibility. He broke off the mucus tubes that ran from his nose so that he could breathe when he was hiding overnight in the bucket. ![]() Joints popped back together with a staccato crackling. Skin tightened, and then he did the same with the extra-length tendons and ligaments. He lay on the alley under the porch, and mentally activated the muscle cells in his skin. The sun rose, and Kenneth Haston poured himself out of his bucket. Thread for Multiverser-related fictional short stories.
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