For The Music

by | Dec 6, 2005 | Story

“Oops!” a golden egg dropped from Yizzies mouth onto the glowing floor. “There goes another baby!” she laughed and a skittering spider came with a dustpan to clean the mess. Raich pulled his eyes out and threw them halfheartedly at Yizzie before plugging his sockets into the curling white wall.

“You’re a fashion slut.” he said, and dialed up the sexual exploits of AmiAmi, the Lacronic music star. The spiders rushed to service him.

“Don’t be so viral Raich, the duckling eggs are the New Thing! The capsule people love to see the gold drop from my mouth.” Raich wasn’t paying attention. His body was gyrating under the sensory nodes, his extra parts swelling and expelling orange juice. Yizzie sighed and dialed into her audience, accepting their mechanic adulations.

“Mmm!” she moaned, her green hair flashing with static sparks. “They love me!”

“You’re a slut.” muttered Raich between gasps as the spiders swirled over his pale body.

Yizzie giggled and removed her top, the first request of the morning. Her breasts greeted a thousand screens. She licked her finger. “Someone has to pay the tax.” Yizzie said, shaking her chest. “What you do doesn’t make us anything but juice.”

“At least I don’t whore myself.” He grunted and orange juice plopped on the floor, followed by a scrubbing spider. Raich fell backward to the sound of Lacronic melodies, landing on a cushion held by a hundred robotic limbs. “I only plug in for the music.”

The Lovers

by | Dec 2, 2005 | Story

I’m sore and smiling from last nights’ athletics. My lover is still sleeping, his blue-green head resting on my pale pink chest. There are tiny raised welts on my hip and thigh where he bit me, and light red scratch lines on my back when, just a few hours ago, he was urgently pulling me closer, merging sex and devotion, hungry and hard.

My undergarments shimmer across the room, artfully hung on the lacquered box of drugs he smuggled from his homeworld. I run my fingers along a tentacle that slopes from his head to curl around my breast. He sighes and squeezes my ribs.

Sex isn’t just about what parts can go into what hole, or physical pleasure or reproduction. Sex is about forgiveness, sex is about communication, and mostly, sex is about chemistry, the ph balance of mind and body. We could be acid to one another, but I can protect him, and we can lay here, sentient to sentient. He loves me as I will never understand.

I turn towards him and kiss his smooth, dry lips, inhaling the scent of sand and cinnamon. My lover opens his crimson eyes and trails amber nails softly against my cheek.

Everything

by | Nov 30, 2005 | Story

“I’m sorry, but the answer is no,” Captain Diana Cai watched Ambassador Karr on her viewscreen as his face darkened. The Ambassador bit his tongue inside his mouth until he tasted blood. Captain Cai allowed him his moment. It was harsh news she had to deliver. “Our team has found traces of the Contagion in your soil.”

Ambassador Karr regarded the Captains teardrop stomach, covered only by a sheer cloth that allowed him to see the erotic and powerful exposure of her fertility. “Captain Cai, our cleaning efforts have been intense. Our scientists have found no active traces of the Contagion, and those minor elements still left are broken down. We are assured that, with proper precautions, the children would have a very low risk of infection.”

Captain Cai put her hand on her pregnant stomach, indicating she wished him to be silent. The Ambassador held his breath.

“Ambassador, our highest priority is the welfare of the children. We cannot deliver life to a world where there is any possibility of contamination. I have no doubt that your people deserve the children. I was guided on a virtual tour of the school that you built for the twelve we hoped to give you and I was very impressed by the design, all that light. . .”

Captain Cai looked around her command center, where sixteen women were operating the ship at various stations, all of them at different stages of their pregnancy. Seven years ago, the Bar’ak had spread the Contagion to every human world, rendering nearly everyone sterile. The only fertile humans were those members of the Fleet on space missions. After the infection the Fleet was split, the men sent to retaliate against the Bar’ak aggression, and the women charged with the task of repopulation. The situation was worse than the government let on. “Our children can only be released to colonies with enough security to keep them safe. Contamination levels are part of that security.”

The Ambassador ran a hand through his silver hair. “Captain, my people will double their efforts to clean our soil. We will have the remnants of the contagion removed in a matter of months.”

“Ambassador, I regret to inform you that we will not be returning for thirty seven years.”

“Thirty seven years?” The Ambassadors calm face had broken, and angry wrinkles, like a thousand scars, descended on his face. “Captain, that is outrageous, most of us are already aged past our prime. A delay of that long could kill our colony!”

The Captain put a hand on her stomach and the Ambassador gulped.

“Ambassador, I remind you that it is treason to raise your voice to a woman with child.”

The Ambassador knelt, the screen following him as he crossed his hands over his chest and closed his eyes. “Captain, Mother, forgive me, Life Giver, I pray to you. Please, spare us, give us one child, just one, to teach and love and hold. Please mother, mercy on us. The child you give us will be our most beloved creature, its feet will never touch soil. Please mother, I beg you.”

“I’ll do it.” Said a young Ensign, newly pregnant with her third child. “I’ll go.”

Captain Cai switched off the screen. “Adia, you are out of line.” The Ensign put a hand on her stomach.

“It is treason to raise your voice to a woman with child.”

Captain Cai put her forehead in her hands. “You read the reports, the soil is dangerous.”

“Yes. I read that in some parts of the planet, the soil has minor contamination. Captain, you saw the Ambassador. We cannot leave this colony to die.”

“Are you ready to be a symbol for the rest of your life? An object?”

“No, I’m not.” Adia walked out from behind her console. “Mother, I can’t do this any longer. I cannot continue to give birth and give my children away. I’ll go mad. I have the right to leave the program.”

“Actually, Ensign, you do not have that right. Humanity is in a dire situation right now. There are planets of worlds that cannot reproduce on their own. Even if you, and your children manage to avoid infection, even if you do that, the Bar’ak may find out you are there and return to this moon and spread the contagion again. Then we will have lost yet another fertile woman.”

“If you don’t leave me there, you may lose an entire colony! Mother, please. I want to go. Please, give me to them. Give them hope.”

“I can’t. I cannot let you go for anything less than an act of treason.”

“Then let me be a traitor.” Adia, cradled her mothers face in her hands. “I love you mother.” She lightly slapped the Captains cheek.

Captain Cai swallowed. “To strike a fertile woman is an act of treason, the punishment for which is death. Ensign Cai, because you are fertile, you will be spared capital punishment and will serve your lifelong sentence in the care of this colony planet.” Captain Cai nodded to two female guards. “Take her to transport.”

“Captain, mother, I promise you, I will give them hope.”

“No Adia, you will give them everything.”

Contribution

by | Nov 28, 2005 | Story | 0 comments

“Goodman Ernest, your application for life expectancy has been denied.”

Ernest, as his own legal representation, was standing at the podium before the masked council. When he heard their pronouncement, he nearly fell off the stand.

“Council! I beg appeal!”

The head councilwoman banged her gavel; the advantage of psychic links between the council was immediate judgment. “Appeal granted. State your case.”

“I have lived three hundred years. I have taught our children, I have been a lawyer, a pimp and a priest, I have redesigned a product and I conducted an orchestra. Council, I have lifetimes full of accomplishments.”

A Councilman at the end of the long table shook his masked face, and the head Councilwoman closed her eyes, receiving opinions through her psychic neural implants. When she finally spoke, her eyes remained shut. “Indeed you do Goodman Ernest. We have reviewed your accomplishments and found them suitable for two lifetimes, but not three. Reviewing the facts, we have noticed that in the last 50 years you have lived off of the proceeds on the wise investments from your bestselling audio feed. You have failed to contribute anything further to society and are living off the fruits of past labors.”

Goodman Ernest put both hands over his heart, the gesture for mercy. “I appeal for a retroactive sabbatical.”

“Denied. Retroactive sabbaticals are only applicable to those who can demonstrate significant emotional or physical injury, besides which, no sabbaticals over ten years are ever granted, and you would need to be granted a sabbatical of over seventy three years.”

“Council. I am capable of contributing society again.”

“As stated by our constitution, when a person slows its pace through our world, it is time for them to move aside and allow the innovations of those younger beings to take their space. The ripe fruit must give way to the seed.” The council’s language was always flowery, a result of the impassioned arguments flowing between them.

“I appeal to your sense of mercy. I am capable of giving, of innovating. I can reinvent myself again. Grant me the years to prove that I can give a lifetime to our people.”

There was a moment of silence and the head Councilwoman finally opened her eyes. “In reflection of your reluctance to depart this mortal coil, we shall grant you a period of five years in which to make your contribution.”

“Five years!” Goodman Ernest felt faint. Five years was a blink, you could barely make a plan for change in five years. “You expect me to give a lifetime in five years?”

“Think of our ancestors, and what they gave to us in their short lives. Imagine them, and show yourself worthy of their legacy. Go, and make your mark.”

Regret

by | Nov 24, 2005 | Story | 0 comments

“We’ve got a jumper.” Pratt was one of those orderly, wiry men who pleased supervisors without ever accomplishing much of value. Detective Harr lit his cigarette and enjoyed the growing scowl on Pratts face. Cigarettes were quite illegal in hospitals, but no one questioned a damned thing anyone in his department did.

“Suspected jumper.” Detective Harr pointed toward the one way mirror where a little girl was playing on the floor.“How did she get picked up?”

“Child abuse. She dropped some pretty heavy hints to school officals, teachers, aids and the like, but no one took direct action until she marched right into the Principals office and started demanding police intervention”

“This is unusual behavior?”

Pratt raised an eyebrow. “Abused children don’t usually march right up to their principals and demand that their fathers be arrested.”

Harr shrugged. “A feisty child then.”

“Yeah, a feisty child who poisioned her fathers cereal before school. They had to pump his stomach, he nearly died. We didn’t suspect it was her till the police went to pick him up and found him at the hospital.”

“We’re sure there was abuse?” Pratt handed him a file.

“Read the medical reports yourself. There was tearing of the vaginal wall, and –“ Decetive Harr waved his hand, cutting Pratt off.

“I can read it.” He stuffed the report in his briefcase and stared though the one way mirror where Jenny was playing under the supervision of a nurse. She knelt on the floor studying the bottom of a toy truck. Jenny put the truck on the carpet and began rolling it around, all the time looking at the nurse and smiling.

The nurse fussed a bit when Detective Harr told her to leave, but flashing his badge and smile earned him some alone time with Jenny. He sat on the couch where the nurse had been sitting, the broad bright smiles of the playroom mural made him feel lewd and out of place.

“Hi Jen. Do you know who I am?” She didn’t look at him, just continued to roll her truck around on the carpet.

“Are you a doctor?”

Harr chuckled “No Jen, I’m a police officer.”

Jenny looked up at him though her soft bangs. “My name is Jenny.”

He leaned over towards her and smiled, big and fake. “Jenny is a little girl name, isn’t it?” Jenny rolled the fire engine around on the floor.

“Did you ever hear the story about the fairy and the housewife?” asked Detective Harr.

Jenny kept her eyes on the engine. “Nope.”

“Well, it goes like this. Once upon a time there was a housewife who had a beautiful new baby. Her baby was so pretty that the fairies wanted it, so in the dead of night, they snatched the baby from it’s cradle. Of course, they couldn’t just take the baby and leave nothing in it’s place, so they left an mischevious spirit that made himself look like a the housewifes beautiful baby. When the housewife picked up her child in the morning, she knew that something was wrong, so she picked up the spirit and smashed its head with a cold iron frying pan until the fairy promised to bring back her baby safe and sound.”

Jenny paused and her chubby hands pulled at the carpet. “That doesn’t sound very nice.” she said.

“It’s not. Tricking people isn’t nice.”

Jenny stood up and lifted her arms in the air. “Do you like my dress? Green is my favorite color.”

“Can we cut the crap Jen?” Jenny lowered her arms.

“What?”

“I mean it. Cut the crap. You’re a jumper. You are accused of the transposition of consciousness onto an earlier time period.” Harr laid her open file on the ground and Jenny glanced at the papers, clenching her little chubby hands.

“You know what he did, the sickness he gave me. You know I will be on treatments for the rest of my life.”

“Jen, the punishment for transposition is removal. Your consciousness will be dispersed.” He tried to keep his voice from cracking. Jenny knelt next to her records and picked out an x-ray of her pelvis.

“What about this body, you’ll let this body rot without a consciousness?”

“There is a little girl in there-”

“We are fully integrated!”

“There are methods. Sometimes we can pick little bits of person out.”

“That’s medieval.”

“Why did you transport yourself back after the first abuse? You must have known you would catch it from him, you knew about the illness.”

“My husband.” said the little girl, her soft voice chiming. “Three days ago, my husband went to the fair with his big brother. It’s his happiest childhood memory. He deserves that day.” Her cheeks flushed red and tiny adult tears ran over her smooth face.

Detective Harr wanted to reach out to her, the instinct to comfort a tiny child rising in his ribs. After a while he stood and took her hand, leading her out the door and down the bifurcated timeline.