Scoct fired up the gaselocity, hoping that it had enough power to slice the voidcave fruiting body so that he could take a slice with his vodka. The mushroom was not flavorful, but it was nutritious enough to take the place of bread and stand tall alongside the fermented potatoes of subterranean vodka.

Naturally, it wasn’t the gaselocity’s intended use. Scoct was quite sure that its makers meant it for nobler purposes than as a glorified still. But if there was one thing about the human spirit amid adversity, even driven into the inhospitable underground, it was that there would be booze made and booze consumed. No matter how illegal it was.

Scoct knew full well that, if caught, he would be subject to confiscation and flagellation, the gaselocity returned to the factory with the balance of his debt still outstanding, and the ire of the Religious Guard’s truncheons visited upon his backside. But he didn’t care.

The human spirit, and the gaselocity operated beyond the specifications of its operations manual, would provide.

  • Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!