The Prompt
It is the year 2995. Six hundred years after First Contact with an alien species, life on Earth has been greatly transformed. You live in the bustling space port of Mogadishu, where humans and numerous other species now call home.
The bar you own is nothing special, though you cater to the eclectic taste in beverages from over two hundred worlds. Life is mundane–as mundane as anything ever gets in this teeming metropolis of over 40 million, of which more than a third claim descent from distant star systems. Or dimensions.
That is, until the night you find a very important and powerful alien dignitary slumped over, tentacles still writhing after taking a sip of his drink–poisoned. And quite dead.
P. Djeli Clark
Phenderson Djéli Clark lives in a small Edwardian castle in New England. And he writes stuff.
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