Tevun-Krus #121 - FanFic SF: The Sequel!

Fan Fiction - a story by @johnnedwill

Fan Fiction

By johnnedwill

Leah pushed the button on the intercom, then stood back. The grey stone Edinburgh tenement towered above her, blocking out the afternoon sun and casting the street into premature twilight. There was a buzzing from the intercom speaker, and a distorted voice squawked out: "Yes?"

"Is that Mister Stross?" Leah leaned closer to the speaker grille, hoping that would make it easier for her to hear the response.

"Yes. Who is it?"

"Umm - my name's Leah Marks. I've come here to see you."

"Marks?" Even the bad quality of the intercom speaker couldn't hide the hesitancy in the reply. "I'm not sure - ."

"The contest!" Leah blurted out. "I'm the winner of the contest at the literary fair in - !"

"Ah." There was silence. As Leah waited nervously for some - any form of acknowledgement, she felt her mouth turn dry. Then the intercom squawked again. "I remember. You're early."

"I'm sorry. But it's cold out here, and i couldn't spend any longer in that coffee shop and - "

Some mechanism hidden in the tenement's door buzzed and clicked. "That's alright. Come on up. I'm in flat 3A."

"Flat 3A! Thank you!" Leah pushed the door open. On the other side was a narrow hallway, its brickwork painted white. At the end of the hallway, a narrow wooden staircase led upwards. If anything, it felt colder in here than it did in the street outside.

No lift. Leah groaned inwardly. I hope it isn't too far up those stairs.

Unfortunately, it was. By the time Leah reached the third floor, the muscles in her calves were a mass of agonised flesh. The walk up the hill from the station, then along the cobbles of the Royal Mile had been bad enough. She had thought that the wait in the coffee shop would have been enough to recover; but, as far as her legs were concerned, this was the last straw. As Leah waited for someone to come to the door of flat 3A, she rubbed her legs.

"Hang on!" The door opened, and a shaven-headed man peered out at her through a pair of oval glasses. "Miss Marks?"

Leah straightened up. "That's me. Hi. Hello. Sorry. I'm just a bit ... ow." She reached down to rub her calves again.

"Charles Stross. Never met a famous author before?" The man smiled at her.

"Actually, I met you at the fair that time. No, I'm just a bit sore. Edinburgh's a bit of a climb."

"Well, the old town is." The man stood to one side. "Come on in." Leah took up his invitation.

The apartment was cosily warm. Bookshelves lined the walls of the lounge. A pair of sofas had been arranged to form a sort of a conversation pit. Narrow windows looked out at the building on the other side of the street.

"So, Mister Stross, this is what a famous author's place looks like?"

"I'll tell you if I ever meet one," the shaven-headed man replied. "Did you say we've met before?"

"Yes. It was at the literary fair, at a panel on space opera. You answered a couple of my questions."

Mister Stross squinted at his visitor. "Were you the person who asked me about the Great Filter?"

"That's right!" Leah beamed, pleased that her contribution to the discussion has made an impression. "And then I won a prize in the raffle. To come and meet you."