Basement of the Universe, 906 words

[quidscribis]

Here's scene 1 of my novel Basement of the Universe. Science fiction. I'm looking for anything you notice and think needs work. I'd like this to be as good as I can make it.

Thank you for looking at this.

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"Doesn't he drive you crazy, though? I mean, he's great as a friend, but as a boss, he's got to be a bit, umm, annoying," said Peter, taking a sip of coffee from his mug. He made a face. "Oh, not enough sugar. Trace, seriously, what are you trying to do to me?" He got up, walked over to the cupboard, grabbed the sugar, and added a generous tablespoon.

"Come on honey, no one needs that much sugar! Besides, it's not good for you. If you'd just use the Martians' synth-sugar, you could have as much as you wanted. It won't ruin your health, make you gain weight, or give you diabetes. I don't know why you refuse to use that stuff." She inhaled the aroma rising from the steaming mug of herbal tea as she always did, hands cupped around the oversized mug, as if trying to leech every bit of warmth out of the mug.

Peter felt a great rush of affection for her wash over him, he wanted to go to her and give her a hug. Bless her heart, she always nagged him about the synth-sugar. He knew that she knew perfectly well why he hated it but it had become sort of a daily morning ritual with them. He smiled at her as he said the words that he knew she was expecting.

"It's got an awful aftertaste! Like tin! I don't like the taste of tin, Trace. You know that. If I wanted metal in my coffee, we could have stayed in the old quarter where the water is so rusty that it creaks when it comes out of the pipes!"

Tracy grinned, showing her appreciation for the new addition to their daily routine. "Well, you'd better do something to cut down that gut you've got growing."

"Nag, nag, nag, that's all you do," he said, sticking his tongue out at her, she rolled her eyes at him in return and he took one swift step around the table to give her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before heading out of the room. "Got to find my keys."

He yelled back at her, "What do you want to do in the evening? Game for some black market stuff?" His coat pocket yielded nothing but an old candy wrapper. He muttered under his breath, cursing those elusive keys, then checked the pockets in the pants he wore yesterday. "Not here either! Hey, Trace, what do you want to do?" he repeated, a little bit louder. His glance swept over the crowded dresser top with all Trace's arsenal of beauty products and what not. Had he left the keys there by any chance? Unlikely.

"Tracy?" He reached into the pockets of the pants he wore, and found his keys in the right pocket. "Ah, here all the time." He walked back into the kitchen.

"Tracy? Where are you?" Nothing but silence. "Tracy? Come on, this is no time to go back to your painting ..." He walked into her studio, a tiny room crammed with all her painting paraphernalia and easel. The huge windows had been an incentive, at least for Tracy, for them to get the apartment. Not that the view outside was breathtaking - it just looked over the soot-stained city walls on the bare, pock-marked terrain outside - but Tracy had been adamant that the lighting was absolutely perfect for her work.

"Tracy?" He was beginning to feel uneasy. It wasn't as if the apartment was so huge that she couldn't hear him or he'd miss her. He went quickly through the bedroom, the kitchen, living room, and bathroom again. No sign of Tracy. He checked the doors, perhaps she'd gone outside? Still bolted on the inside. The windows were closed as well, not that she'd consider jumping from a second-story apartment on to the crowded streets but where else could she have gone? He could almost feel his mind racing around like a cat gone crazy trying to unravel a ball of string. She just couldn't have disappeared into thin air!

He raced back into the kitchen, half-hoping that perhaps she was playing a joke on him and would spring out from some hidey-hole that he'd missed. Even her coffee mug was gone!

He checked the bedroom again, maybe she was lying unconscious behind the bed or something. At this point, he would have taken even that rather than Tracy just disappearing. His heart was hammering away like a race-horse galloping towards the winning post, his brain felt as if it was trying to claw its way through mush. The whole world seemed to be crawling to a standstill while his thoughts went round and round shying away from the one possibility that remained.

She hadn't changed into the clothes she'd laid out on the bed. Her purse still lay on her dresser. He checked, but all her identification was still there, as were her credits and currency cards. She still had her pale pink dressing gown and hot pink fluffy bunny slippers on. No make up and she certainly would have said that her hair was a mess! No way she would have gone out in public like that, he thought. His mind finally capitulated, there was no explanation but the one he didn't want to think about. She was gone. Disappeared into thin air - just like all the others...

[Manarion]

At first I found the story a little jejune, but it really picked up later, and I think you ended the sample in the perfect place. I'm always into mystery and suspense in what I read, and that sentence "Disappeared into thin air-just like the others..." is just my cup of tea. Nicely done.

[quidscribis]

Thank you for your comments, Manarion.

[chrispenycate]

He muttered under his breath, cursing those elusive keys, then checked the pockets in the pants he wore yesterday.

Oh, you have to be a pedant to be bothered by it, but since you are in the past tense throughout, and this is further back "pockets of the pants he had worn the day before"

She still had her pale pink dressing gown and hot pink fluffy bunny slippers on

Argg, adjectives (waving arms around ineffectually) Perhaps some hyphens, like "hot-pink" or "bedroom-slippers", just to reduce the length of the series?

You might have noticed I didn't put any punctuation corrections – that was because I didn't spot any.

[quidscribis]

Thank you for your comments, chrispenycate.