Hello and welcome to me this pod episode 12. I'm your host de
metus. Our story for this episode The salesman comes to us
from MK Owens in K is 25, an engineer by trade and from
Texas. Hey, I'm from Texas. He loves reading and is currently
working on a cyberpunk novel. He also spends his time writing
short stories with the salesman being his first. The best way to
read his works would be on Reddit under the handle in K
underscore Owens or on Twitter at in K underscore Owens. Links
will be in the show notes. Without further ado, the
salesman by N K O ns.
Park the cruiser at the top of the valley and took in the view
the tiny wooden village and alone at the bottom. It was
nearly deserted, each building 5060 yards away from the other.
No network connection. No transit lines, no climbs and no
lights. The soil arranged and hopeless plots around the
village dry gray fishers cut through the plots. They weren't
gonna grow shit here. No wonder Nexus and color them keep it I
plucked a cigarette from my pocket and lit it. Who would
want to live in the stomp? Check my ptr is the smoke drifted
overhead. The number of flickered before my eyes too
fast to read and transformed into a READ ERROR that consume
the Golden Valley and its wooden village. I slapped the metal in
my neck once twice and the error disappeared. Piece of shit
software check the PTR again 1108 was will drive down there a
glare from the valley a dinky antique truck towards way up
clouded dust behind it. Bout time I flattened the front of my
blazer rolled my shoulders back and went over my lines howdy
excellent plot of land y'all folks have here now now to
hockey talk that are simple not cowboys. How are you doing?
Beautiful place for I can't help but notice it's a bit dry. Seems
like it might be difficult to grow crops out here now to
patronizing. Howdy, it looks great out here do it and damn it
Honky Tonk again. I chose my collar and it barely moved. How
these fuckers wear these things. I use my cruiser as a mirror and
loosen my tie a bit. Now too much. It lost its shape and lay
flat. a noose like around my neck. What a waste of money. I
grumbled at the back of my truck can't have these clients seeing
a salesperson disheveled. With a tap on the back of my cruiser
the trunk unfolded inward through the tie inside. I
pressed the button again and came around to the front of
trucks rested maroon body all dents and scratches road to stop
just past the gate. It was a wonder it could still drive. I
gave it a wide smile on a wave and took a step forward. No
response. The windows were smooth and with a permanent
black tent and with the sun bouncing off of them secretive.
What was going on in there? I shifted my way to the other
foot. HQ said it would be a hard sell out here. But rent wasn't
going to pay itself. I took another step toward the truck
and hornblende I froze. A driver door flew open and a man stepped
out clad in a white shirt and black coat and off yellow bowl
shaped hat was affixed to his head. He spit a gob under the
dry earth and stared at me. I gave him a smile. Howdy.
Beautiful place y'all have here? A man frowned. His contempt was
palpable. Was it my neck mod or maybe the car should have
brought a beater instead? I can't help but notice it's a bit
dry out here in both water and electricity. I was hoping to
discuss how we could help you all. The man snorted. Who sent
you Damn offensive already. I'm with pill sack corpse. I said,
Well, it's a more of a independent contractor. Like I
said, I'm here to find people who can benefit from our
products. We don't want it sir leave a said. I let the word
simmer. Nothing moved. Sir, I'm afraid I have to invoke mi 193.
I paused, which guarantees the right to enter for purposes of
either marketing or the man jumped in his truck and slammed
the door. And another second he was tearing down the dirt road.
I side as he went, legally, I had the right to follow but
practically I did not, I groaned. The threat had been to
force a bargain. Not make me drive down there.
If you actually had to invoke mi 193 than the deal was already
drowning. I glanced to the city behind me. Pilar didn't care if
I couldn't make the sale. He wanted his rent money. My shoes
were shreds a plastic cleaning into my feet. My software barely
functional. I could still make it back to the city and peddle
around the southern district for bet might find someone in dire
need like last month. I ran my fingers through my hair that was
barely a commission. Selling to these people was much more
lucrative. There was no choice. I tap the cruiser and slid into
the driver's seat. Manual mode. He said in manual mode. My hands
felt good on the wheel. It had been a while. Soon I was rolling
down the hill to the trucks dusty wake. How can I make this
sale? What can I offer these people my top my fingers against
the wheel. The crop angle had been the best pad and that idea
had been shot down kicked and Pulverize. Against all odds they
still refused internet and nearly anything electronic which
cut down the list of pesticide products by 90%. Close tools
food all created and bought elsewhere. Aside guess it would
be another attempt of the crop genetics. I turned the tent down
the sunlight flooded the cruiser, white fluffy clouds
drifted across the cool blue sky. The land might have been
shit but the sky was appealing. It was a far cry from the solid
sheet of grey that passed for the sky in the city. And that
was if you could glimpses this guy walks in the low clouds.
When I reached down, I set the drive to auto and watch the
buildings pass by the wood was charming antique feel to it. It
was almost comfortable. Now safe. Like you could Nestle
inside it and be protected from the world. That that was true
though. And the bomb on the street would have enough
firepower to knock one of those things down. For all its
prettiness it wasn't worth it to live off the grid like this.
These poor slobs didn't know any better. I rolled to a stop
behind the truck was parked at the far end of the town, close
enough to be seen in the shuttered windows of the houses
but far enough to be quiet. The man was already in an animated
conversation with a plain dressed woman. She stomped away
as I got out. I flattened my blazer and cracked my neck. No
pitch this time. No more hokey dokie talk just one man sell
into another man. It's even nicer once you get down here. I
said. Look, let me say that I hate to invoke mi 193 a man
slammed his door and grumbled you got five minutes and get
out. A woman whistled and approval or disapproval from an
heiress houses porch. She could hear good. She could help drive
the sale. Happy wife happy life was one of my grandpa's favorite
sayings. I know you might not be able to tell. I tapped into
metal that ran up my neck. But I've been in your shoes before.
I grew up with dusters. Now we didn't have any hope of growing
crops and motion to the empty fields. But I remember when the
freaks from the city would come down and tell us what we needed
and why and that's what they were freaks metalled and
tattooed freaks paused for a fact. He was still listening, a
good sign. So I get it. I said now my job is to find people who
would benefit from it. Will sacking products. Poolside
primarily sells medical equipment modifications,
augmentations, whatever you want to call it. You don't want that.
You don't need that and that's fine. But what about fertilizer?
Or crops genetically altered to thrive in the soil that you have
here? Imagine how things would be with something like that. I
pushed my hair to the side and shrug. Who knows you might not
need to buy any more food from the city. Man thought it over.
Weigh the scales. Perfect.
I wasn't so hard. was an obvious though when you think about it.
You can't sell a fish shoes. What city you grew up in? I
froze the city. No, I couldn't say that. Mercedes I've learned
that was a name from somewhere from some time and it was too
late and the word itself jumped out of my mouth too fast and too
unnaturally. A man scowled. Mercedes got swallowed 30 years
ago, just another liar, aren't you? He spit on the ground. We
don't need your help with the crops. When he returns he will
bring us a plentiful harvest. The man looked at his mechanical
watch. Three minutes. I rolled my eyes and turned and I was the
freak because I had a few chips lodged in my head. The cell was
more dead than this place. I sighed and ran my fingers over
my jaw and the savings tooth inside. My last, unfortunately,
least valuable. And I saw it a mural splay across a lone stone
wall. In the painting, a gangly white man with brown locks in a
brown beard looks skyward. His eyes blue, and full of hope.
Jesus Christ. I spun to the man. So when does he return? The man
narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. August 3 is the
divine day a man said, and we'll see to that. My wife is carrying
him. He just had his chest out. August 3, that's very specific.
His wife leaned forward. The man spoke again loudly, confidently,
his eyes full of hope, like the mural on the wall. That was the
day to Cree by the Lord Himself, August 3, and we will rise again
and he will wash away all of this. And in those rains, a
fruitful harvest will grow. I don't expect you to understand
that. And you're sure she's carrying him? The man scout? Of
course she is. Well, then that's a great honor. And I'm sure your
neighbors will look up to you folks. I continued. Last year my
sister was pregnant with my nephew. The due date was
February 15, which was unfortunate because Len was set
to demo some technology and Antarctica, from the third to
the 22nd. As you can imagine, that isn't the best time nor
place to have a baby. I laughed and lit a cigarette. The man and
his wife We're all ears. So she ordered one of our new products,
Leo. It's called and used it to move the delivery. She picked
the 25th I believe. And then she had plenty of time after the
trip to rest and hydrate before the big day. Took a drag. Of
course, we could have set it before the trip. Or any day
really. I showed you folks must be grateful not to need
something like that. The man was wide eyes. His lips parted,
hungry. His wife waddled to him and whispered in his ear. She
was hungry to maybe even hungrier. I check the time via
PTR 1123. My five minutes was up. Well, I said looks like my
time is up. Sorry, I couldn't be of any help to you folks. But
you do have phones, don't you? I pulled a paper business card
from my jacket and extended it. Give me a call if I can ever
help you with something. The man licked his lips and grabbed the
card. I nodded at both of them and turn towards the cruiser.
The door slid open and I hopped in, wheeled it around and was
throwing up dust on my way to the top. I could feel myself
grinning and it turned into a good pitch after all. I flicked
the into my cigarette out and glanced in the mirror and hoped
they didn't see that. I watched the town grow smaller in the
rear view. It was tiny, dusty and isolated. But the sobs
didn't mind as much as a person might expect In fact, I hadn't
seen someone with that kind of hope in their eyes since well,
never. I looked in the mirror and studied my own eyes. I had
never looked like that and molded that over. Maybe these
people are onto something
or maybe not
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a good one, folks. We'll see you next time.