Excerpt: Life Artist

Segix knew it was over even before the light hit him. He tried to stay hidden, despite that, and tried to escape when they saw him in the spotlight. He wasn't fast enough.

The security guards caught him, searched him, and threw him back over the fence when they found he had come naked and carrying nothing.

"What, are you trying to stow away?" one of them had said as they held him down. The others had laughed at the thought, and Segix could hear them, still laughing, as they walked away from the fence to continue their patrol.

He hadn't thought the visitors were leaving so soon, but they did have a habit of secrecy about their movements. It was hard to predict where they would be, to observe them as much as he needed to.

Segix pushed himself to the edge of the walkway, out of the way of anybody who might be out at this time of night, then paused to assess the damage. No broken legs, at least; he'd be able to get himself home without needing to call for assistance. That was always embarrassing. The other broken bones and cuts could be dealt with at home.

He staggered to his feet, keeping his right arm tucked in close. A brief pause to let the wave of pain from the motion wash over him and pass, then he started walking home, holding the gash in his side closed with one hand. The trail of blood he left behind him thinned as he hit his stride, but didn't stop, continuing to add to the patchwork of colour staining the walkway.

He hadn't had quite as much time to observe tonight as he'd hoped, but he thought he could still count it a successful night.

The paranoia the visitors showed, though! Secrecy and fences and security guards. He wondered if the guards who caught him would bother telling the humans about him, since he hadn't done anything other than look. He hoped not. He wanted his gift to them to be a surprise.

He stumbled into the main room of his home, and got a distinctly annoyed look from his flatmate .

"I won't bleed on your stuff," Segix said, cutting off the snide comment he knew was coming.

"Not like last time, then?" Tunita said.

"Hey, I couldn't help it," Segix said. "I barely made it home on my own, and you're still harassing me about a little blood?"

"It wouldn't kill you to call for a ride when you get that chewed up. I had to completely re-do that piece."

"I can't afford a ride, not if you want me to keep paying my share of the rent."

Tunita threw a carving knife at him, then turned back to his sculpture, muttering something about priorities and rent.

Segix hurried to his studio before Tunita could get into a full-fledged rant about last month's rent. He didn't need to hear that again.

In the closet, he paused for a moment before selecting a spare. They were getting quite beat up, especially his lighter observation spares. He sat down, jumped to his daily use spare, and stood up again. After a luxurious stretch, he wheeled the battered body he had just left to the washroom to fix it up.