Sitting at home in front of my computer, taking a break from writing a new-old story, taking a break from thinking about the sword of Damocles hanging over my head in the form of a 13-page paper I have to write that's due next week...and because I don't have enough to do, I am writing this. This may lead to some rather interesting conclusions about my working habits...
...So, my story takes place around 300 years in the future, after humans and other species have learned the art of space flight. Its main protagonist is a 36-year-old man named Dennis Gallagher--a black-haired, blue-eyed Irish-Scot who works as a linguist for the official interplanetary governmental law-enforcement/espionage agency. Forced early from his holiday on a tropical planet to work on a new case with agent Sofia Vega, a woman of mixed human-North Azanni blood who has silver hair and a Voice you wouldnt believe, the predictable love-loathing story unfolds. Dennis likes his desk-job, Sofia is all ice and fire, and together they must decipher the twisted nursery-rhyme messages that accompany a series of bombings on various planets in order to avert utter mayhem in the known galaxy at the hands of the KALI criminal organization. There's action, there's history, there's mystery, intrigue, and murder, and of course, intertextuality. And of course, despite some early difficulties, they fall in love.
It's all a ball of typical twigs...
(Though I have made some minor changes in plot, I sarted this story more than 30 years ago and its pretty much still the same story.)
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