The Golden Circuit (The Smith Chronicles) Read Online Free

that gave every species the ability to communicate with each other. Whatever the genus. Be it muidogs, slipper-eels, furkaats, turenoids, fujiwugs or spratuus, they could all understand what the other was thinking, feeling or saying. It was a remarkable accomplishment. Now, however, something was wrong out there.
    PING! PING! PING!
    Mikita’s Mu-tea was ready.
    As she began to pour the light-green liquid into a tea-vessel, her meta-file vibrated on the counter-top.
    She picked it up.
    It was a message from her cousin, Polo:
    [Hi , Miki! Meet me for a Contral at Gretchi’s? Px]
    Mikita messaged her back:
    [11? M] She was always brief with her meta-file texts and information exchanges. ‘You never know who’s reading this stuff’, she’d say.
    Polo replied, quickly:
    [Affirmative, Captain ! Px]
    Too much draining Star Trek, thought Mikita.
    Mikita packed up her things to go out. Her Serene was still on the kitchen counter but she couldn’t be bothered to put it away. She wanted to get outside and breathe some fresh air. It was Saturday and she had no classes. Her essay for Dr. Tamashito needed to be in on the 1 st , right enough, and she needed to do well on it, but she had plenty of time to complete that.
    Mikita locked her front door and went off into the Muhaze morning.
     
    Heading into the city , Mikita’s street-tram passed through a Red-Zone. The TAPCON Task Force was breaking up a group of protesters deemed to be ‘causing a disturbance to the populace’. It was not unusual to find these demos going on in the city and, in reality, they were mainly peaceful affairs quietly opposing TAPCON and its alleged high-handed methods of government. There was never much trouble from these groups, small as they were, yet the TTF agents were always on hand, letting the good citizens of Muhaze know that no harm would come to them - Oh, no! Not with the blaster-gun toting, itchy trigger-fingered TTF there to protect them!
    Mikita was involved with one such protest group: ‘ The People Against Sempre’s Immoral Violence’, or PASIV, as they were known. They gave talks on anti-establishment tactics and critical theory that Mikita had often attended, and it was because of PASIV’s leader, Janeee Swish, that she'd applied for entry to Mu-U in the first place. Janeee was a born motivator. If there was one person able to leap up onto the front of a vehicle with her meta-phone, and galvanize a bunch of strangers into social unrest, it was Janeee Swish.
     
    The street-tram arrived at Unita Stratis, right outside Gretchi’s.
    Mikita got off and immediately saw Polo waving at her from the front window of the cafe. She could hardly miss her, what with the blue hair and that red, all-in-one jump suit. Mikita hadn’t seen Polo for over a week and she'd lots to tell her. She waved back and went inside.
    “You’re late,” accused Polo, as Mikita approached the table.
    “It’s only 11:03!”
    “That’s still late. And your Contral is melting.”
    “And it’s good to see you, too!” replied Mikita. Her cousin could be obnoxious and annoying, but Mikita could put up with it. Most of the time. She sat down. “Thanks for the Contral, though. Mmmm.”
    “So, how’s your boyfriend?” snarked Polo, taking a sip of the icy drink through her straw.
    “ Oh, I finished it. He tried to give me a key to his flat and, well...”
    “Eeew, that’s weird. I mean, I know he’s a total aurora with a perfect body and everything, but giving you his key? Ugh. I’m not surprised, though, to tell you the truth. I always knew he was a bit of a dark horse, that one. The way he came over to our table, sat right down, chatted like he already knew you. Completely ignored Candee and me. It was almost like he was after something.” Polo’s eyes narrowed. “Hey! Have you got some hidden Muhazian millions stashed away somewhere that you’re not telling me about?”
    “Yeah, right. The Smith dynasty’s secret fortune.”
    Polo laughed. “Yep,