by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Inhuman Acts: A Collection of Noir, September 2015
Captain Jacques twitched his naked ears and swished his bare, pink tail as he stepped into the lumo-bay, a large, empty room with hexagonal, blue grid-lines on the walls. Even though he was a hairless cat, the captain always held an air of dignity. No other cat or dog ever wore a Tri-Galactic Navy uniform with greater aplomb than he did, but today Captain Jacques wasn’t wearing his uniform. He was dressed in a pin-striped suit and a floor-length, tan trench coat, split down the back. Continue reading “Danger in the Lumo-Bay”