One Hundred Percent Lunar Boy by Stephen Tunney Read Free Book Online Page A

the other two held the One Hundred Percent Lunar Boy.
    The forensics expert spoke to the detective after his analysis machine beeped with its result shown on its tiny, old-fashioned screen. “Okay, so the dead boy has a load of Buzz in his blood, along with traces of E-94 — he was raring to go. His levels indicate overdose. Those other two? They’re going to the hospital right now, and Goggles over there,” he pointed to Hieronymus, "is clean.”
    “Do you think that boy’s overdose could have been triggered by something?” the detective asked.
    “Sure. It was triggered by him taking too much Buzz and mixing it with E-94, which is probably the most jackass thing one could possibly do.”
    The detective pointed to Hieronymus.
    “You see what we have over here.”
    The forensics expert, a balding man who combed his black hair over his shiny wet skull in the exact same way men have been doing for centuries and centuries, was extremely careful with his words.
    “I see a boy, probably about fourteen years of age.”
    “You know what happened. I want you to include in your report that even though his goggles were torn from his face involuntarily, the fourth primary color in his eyes triggered the overdose in the Buzzhead who’s about to go to the morgue.”
    “Officially, the fourth primary color does not exist.”
    “I don’t care if you think it exists or not — I want you to make the connection that that boy’s overdose was caused by the fourth primary color.”
    “His overdose was caused by the ingesting and inhaling of too many illegal drugs. There is nothing in his blood sample that remotely suggests infuence by any visual stimuli. I am not going to include details in my report that are not scientific and true, that cannot be presented as evidence. And in the eyes of the law, this so-called fourth primary color does not exist.”
    Annoyed and unsatisfied, Lieutenant Schmet then turned to the rescue robot.
    “Belwin!” he shouted over at the machine. “Come here!”
    Belwin, his silver form a marvel of anatomical engineering and chrome-plated minimalist style, moved eloquently toward Lieutenant Schmet.
    “Yes, Lieutenant Schmet.”
    “Belwin, please scan the dead boy, and scan the creature over there with the goggles.”
    “Technically, Lieutenant, the expression ‘creature’ is not legally accurate when addressing the student with the Schmilliazano goggles.”
    “Whatever. Scan them both and tell me the extent to which the dead boy’s death can be blamed on his exposure to the fourth primary color.”
    “Excuse me, Lieutenant, but there are only three primary colors: yellow, red, and blue.”
    “Belwin, are you familiar with lunarcroptic ocular symbolanosis?”
    “Only insofar as whenever I perform feats of rescue, should I come across accident or fire victims who are wearing Schmilliazano goggles, I am obliged to make sure the goggles remain upon their faces. It is a safety consideration that I do not understand, yet am programmed to follow most stridently.”
    “Enough with the fireman shoptalk, Belwin. Kindly scan the cerebral cortex and optic nerve connections of the dead boy. Is there a rupture among the perceptionary axis that can be used as evidence pertaining to trauma from exposure to the fourth primary color?”
    “Lieutenant Schmet, I am happy to assist you in all rescue operations. However, I am afraid that I will be of little use as an evidence gatherer. My scanning results only concur with my human colleague from the forensics department, which is that the overwhelming presence of the aforementioned illegal chemicals caused the death of this poor student. At this point, it is purely hypothetical for you to suggest that an unimaginable color could have thrown this deceased young man into a state of deadly trauma. And legally, there is no backing for it, as according to my legal statutes that guide my interaction with the human population, no fourth primary color exists and,