Magic Fingers

by submission | Apr 19, 2008 | Story

Author : Matthew Reshonsky

Ariel groaned as John held her tighter on the motel bed. For a moment he was lost in the experience of her perfect-ness. The way that her body always seemed to fit the contours of his own with the perfect blend of softness to touch and hold. Over the last three weeks he had even grown to love the smell of ozone that always clung about her.

She breathed in deeply and he relaxed his hold. “So John, how was work today.”

“Eh, nothing much happened. All I could really think about was getting back here to you.”

“You’re the sweet but I know something had to have happened you’re so tense.”

This gave John pause, when he was with Ariel he always forgot about the world. Except today he had reason to be troubled. She must have sensed it, that was one of the things he loved about her the way she was always able to understand him.

“I caught the news feed; some Jack off politician is going to ban full force field holography making your job illegal.”

“They’re always trying to do that, don’t let it bother you.”

“Well the pundits say it’s going to pass this time, a broad ban on everything except medical use.”

“So we don’t have much time left, do we?”

“A week maybe two.”

She pushed her face into his chest a squeezed him so tightly that he was having trouble drawing breath and then she released.

He gently nudged her head back so he could look into her green eyes.

“I have something I want to tell you. I went and-“, he was abruptly cut off when she vanished. The all too familiar feeling of emptiness returned to the center of his chest that he was only able to push away when she was in his arms.

“Shit.” He reached over to the bed stand and counted the dollar coins left in the roll, only ten left.

He quickly slid them into their slot on the headboard when she reappeared.

“Anyway, as I was saying I went and saw an agent about putting a lien on one of my kidneys to see if was enough to buy a home unit and your program from the motel before the ban goes into effect. In order to get enough I’ll have to hawk my heart and one of my lungs too.”

“You can’t do that. What if you can’t pay them back on time?”

“I should be able to do it, I won’t be spending money here so that alone should be enough to make it on time, worst case scenario I’ll live on ramen for awhile.”

“Then you do love me.”

“What can I say, I have a thing for chicks with pink hair.”

“How much do you have left for tonight?”

“20 minutes.”

“So just enough for a happy ending.”

“As happy as it gets anyway.”

Capital Punishment on Beta Hydri

by Patricia Stewart | Apr 18, 2008 | Story

Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer

Using his pincers, Brachyura meticulously trimmed the crust off the edges of his sandwich. Satisfied that it was all removed, he rapidly consumed the meal in a nibbling motion that was too fast for his human visitor to follow. Brachyura arched his two protruding eyestalks backward over his brow plate and cooed. “Wow,” he exclaimed, “that’s the best thing I ever tasted. What’s it called again?”

“Peanut butter and jelly on sourdough,” answered Mike Kramble.

“And this exquisite white liquid?”

“It’s called milk. Listen, Brachyura, let me talk to our Governor. Perhaps I can convince him that this incident was just an unfortunate misunderstanding. Maybe I can persuade him that you didn’t mean to kill the maintenance workers.”

“Oh dear, Mike, you keep using that nasty word ‘kill.’ I didn’t kill them. I simply ate them.”

“It’s the same thing, Brachyura.”

“Of course it isn’t. It’s just eating. I was hungry; they were food. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s what we do on Beta Hydri. Doesn’t your species eat meat?”

“We don’t eat sentient beings, Brachyura. Listen, you’re wasting valuable time. In a few minutes the guards are going to come in here and escort you to the beach. They plan to execute you in front of your friends and family. They want to make an example out of you, to discourage any future attacks. Please, Brachyura, I can beg for clemency if you show any sign of being remorseful.”

“Mike, I’m not remorseful. I’m just full. Besides, it’s not a problem. I love our beach. It’s next to the ocean. I can finally go home.”

“Brachyura, you don’t understand. You’re not going home. There’s a twenty-foot high electric fence around this island. We had to build it because you guys think that it is okay to eat us. We only want to live here in harmony with your species.” Mike could hear the escort detail coming down the main isle. A minute later they unlocked the large cage door and slid it to the side. The guards used their cattle prods to motion Brachyura out of his cage. Electricity was the only effective weapon against the four-foot tall by ten-foot wide crustaceans. Bullets only ricocheted off their super-hard exoskeletons. As Brachyura walked down the corridor, his eight legs skidded erratically on the hard concrete floor. When he stepped out of the makeshift warehouse prison onto the soft sand, he paused. He spread his foreclaws apart and raised them toward the noonday sun. Momentarily startled, the guards jumped backwards and extended their prods.

“What a beea-uuuuu-ti-ful day,” proclaimed Brachyura. Then he lowered his claws and turned toward Kramble. “I will miss you, my friend. I will also miss peanut butter and jelly on sourdough. Perhaps in a few years, the relationship between our two species will improve, and you can make me another sand-d-wich.” With that, he bowed his head in a respectful gesture. An instant later, the back of his shell split apart to allow four large wings to unfold. In a maelstrom of blowing sand and debris, his massive body lifted off the beach. He hovered for a second, then majestically turned and flew over the fence. He splashed into the ocean approximately 100 yards offshore.

“Well, I’ll be damned” remarked Kramble with a smile. “They can fly.” Then he suddenly realized the colony had a serious problem. “Whoa, I guess that kind of makes our electric fence worthless.”