Mathias

"Mathias"

 a mystery

Gary Baker, January 2013

(the beginning of a longer project)

"Welcome, Dr. Mathias," the gray-suited man turned to face Dr. Henry Mathias from behind a well-made oak desk, "if you would so choose, we shall begin." The man shifted a slim lock of silvery hair behind one ear and leaned back into the plush black leather. "First off, Dr. Mathias is dead, Dr."

Henry scowled. As intriguing as it had been, being brought from the central train station in Madrid all the way to this unknown skyscraper not far off, subsequently followed by the long elevator ride into the depths of who-knew where, the man's tone set him on edge. Finally he managed to shift in his seat, an uncomfortable guest chair with sparse cushioning and an awkward pattern, and mumble aloud. "But I'm not."

The Tower

"The Tower"

from Kingdom's Rise

Gary Baker, January 2013

(part of a longer project)

Hal'Ven dropped his gaze quickly as he strode up to the gathered men at the fire. Lithomir noted that he deferred to their new leader with much due respect.

"...and when she saw me, I-" Kudrov scowled as his audience glanced to Hal'Ven, then turned to face the youth with a mouthful of annoyance.

Lithomir expected Kudrov to demand the reason for an intrusion into the inner circle of affairs, but instead found the several bandits looking to him as though deferring to a lord's opinion and guidance. With a dismissive wave, he nodded to the boy. "Hal'Ven," the youth beamed at the sound of his name as though excited it had been remembered, "what is it?"

The Ploy

"The Ploy"

a short story

Gary Baker, October 2012

Jeffy looked up, staring cross-eyed at his companion, Kher, on the other side of the stone table. The sun was bright, lending a warm glow to most of the urban park around them as the morning dew evaporated into nine-a.m. fog. Kher just watched the table, longingly, as if in deep thought.

"You want some Skittles?" Jeffy shook a king-size red bag in his hands loudly. The small flattened spheres of fluorescent sugar inside tacked around and against one another, echoing across the desolate morning scene.

Kher finally reached his annoyed glare up to Jeffy. "No, I don't want some Skittles." The young Turkish man tightened his black P-coat around his chest and dipped his scruffy chin back into the high collar.