Elemental by Steven Savile Read Free Book Online Page B

(as, of course, it must ) it was well it was done quickly.
    He pulled a sword from the wall and squared up to the puny individual. “I’m afraid,” he announced, “that I cannot be disturbed by taxes and duties. I value my solitude.”
    â€œI must warn you, sir,” said the taxman, holding up one finger in a slightly prissy gesture, “that I am licensed to defend myself from unprovoked attack. My parent company, having invested thirty-eight million Euros in my development, are legally entitled to preserve their investment from unnecessary harm.”
    Macbeth only shook his head. He swung the sword. The blade crashed against the man’s shoulder; instead of severing it as Macbeth expected, the collision resulted in a series of sparks and fizzes, and a scattering of gray smoke into the air.
    â€œYou have caused several thousand Euros damage,” said the strange man, “to my right arm. I must inform you that my manufacturers, McDF Inc., are legally entitled to recover that sum from your bank account.”
    Puzzling, Macbeth wrenched the sword free and lifted it for another sweep, aiming this time at the taxman’s head.
    â€œI do apologize for this, sir,” the taxman said, with a mournful expression on his face. He pointed a finger at Macbeth. The end of the finger clicked out and swiveled to the side. With a loud thwup sound a projectile launched itself from the hollow digit and smashed into Macbeth’s
chest. More astonished than in pain, he dropped his sword and collapsed backward onto the stone flags.
    The strange taxman, leaning over him now, was speaking into a communicator of some kind. “Please send a medical team at once. Unmarked and unnamed property, located near the center of Greater Birnam Wood. Lock onto my signal. Please hurry; subject is badly wounded.” He peered down at Macbeth, who was already losing focus in his eyes, with the sheer oddness of this feeling—these smashed ribs—this blood (which had stayed safely in his veins through all these centuries) spilling onto the floor. It was, he had to admit, and despite the pain involved, a feeling something like—release.
    â€œI do apologize for doing that, sir,” the taxman was saying. “I have called an air ambulance to assist. I do hope, sir, that they arrive here before you die.”
    â€œOh I do hope,” said Macbeth, in a gaspy voice, “not.”

Abductio ad Absurdum
    BY ESTHER M. FRIESNER
    Â 
    Esther M. Friesner is an author, poet, short story writer, editor, and self-proclaimed Queen of the Hamsters. Perhaps best known for editing the ever-popular Chicks in Chainmail series of anthologies ( Chicks in Chainmail , Chicks N’ Chained Males , Did You Say Chicks? , The Chick Is in the Mail , and Turn the Other Chick ), Friesner most recently teamed up with fellow funnyman Robert Asprin for the novel E. Godz . She has won the Nebula Award twice, for her short stories “Death and the Librarian” and “A Birth Day.”
    According to Friesner, “Abductio ad Absurdum” was written as the result of one too many TV programs and/or tabloid stories about alien abductions. “I had reached my saturation point when it came to media coverage of the ongoing set-to between Evolutionists and Creationists,” she says. “And so, in an effort to forget that there was nothing good on TV I began to wonder: How long has this alien abduction thing been going on? Besides aliens, what other beings have been known to snatch up earthlings? Even those humans who share a common cause seem unable to set aside competition in favor of cooperation. How would beings that are supposed to be superior to humans deal with such a situation? What if everyone was right about what happened Way Back When? Am I going to have fun writing about this?” The answer to the last question being affirmative, the rest is history.
    Esther Friesner lives in Connecticut with her