Devil’s Village (Shortlisted for the Writivism 2015 Short Story Prize)
The cortical implant in my head was disconnected from all networks and my Heads-Up Display was offline. There were three Cleopatras on our flight and the Crew Chief’s Operations Protocol demanded a total communications blackout. The dim red LED strips cast a gloomy aura around the Irish priest who sat across the aisle from me. Maybe the guy really was gloomy. The only other passengers were the heavily armed Ukrainian Bravo Team and their guest, a limp bundle of broken…
