The High, Hot Summer

by | Oct 27, 2005 | Story | 0 comments

The thousand babies slept in the high, dry grass as late summer breezes caressed their cradles. Local farmers, paid by the government not to grow food, had abandoned the field and left their farm equipment to rust. The summer had been blazing and the ground cracked under the oppressive sun. For the babies, the heat had been ideal, the same as if they had been tucked under their mothers belly. They swayed inside their hard cradles, rocking themselves in and out of dreams. Their mother thought of them always, they could hear her bright thoughts, even from far away, and knew that they were not alone.

In early autumn, when the weather was still warm but the breeze hinted at an approaching winter, the children crawled out of their cradles. The tiny ones were eaten by their stronger siblings, mewing inside broken cradles that were unable to protect them from razor beaks and sucking orifices. The children played, pecking at each other, snapping at autumn leaves, burrowing in the earth and launching themselves a hundred feet into the sky before gliding downwards back to the wild field. Each little explorer listened for the voice of the mother, trying to pin-point that invisible light in the sky from where her voice came. Food came to the field, tempted by the whistling voices, and the children ate together.

Mother’s giant mind, a processor of incomprehensible power, sent the children loving thoughts and strict commands. When they were too big for the field, having ripped the brittle grass and wet the ground, they spread their scaled wings and leaped, soaring towards a higher, bigger playground, a city of steel and glass, glittering in a twilight haze.

Selection

by | Oct 21, 2005 | Story

“Sex complicates things.” Professor Dawkins looked at Joe, whose broad shoulders nearly touched the sides of his tiny book-lined office. Joe was from one of the Midwestern public schools that concentrated on test scores, leaving students with a broad range of knowledge, but little depth. “Sex adds an extra element to the process of reproduction, and although that allows for greater variance, simplistic asexual reproduction is still the most popular model.”

Joe squirmed in his seat. “So there aren’t any animals that take the best DNA from many individuals in the population to make the best offspring?”

Dawkins wondered what Joe had been reading. “Best DNA? “Best” really isn’t a concept that we use. Would adding more organisms, more genetic variety, increase fitness?” Joe scrunched his forehead and rubbed his brow, a motion which reminded Dawkins of his wife. “Nature favors incremental change. Any major mutations are likely to kill an individual.”

Joe pushed up his glasses. “What if there was a major mutation that was very favorable?”

Dawkins sat on his desk facing Joe and smiled. “I’m not saying that’s impossible Joe, just highly improbable. There are no examples of such an event. Animals are an interactive whole; any major change is likely to have a detrimental effect on that whole.”

“So humans just couldn’t learn to fly or anything.”

Dawkins loosened his collar; the office had become quite warm. “Well, if what you mean is that they couldn’t develop, say, functional wings for flight in a generation, then that is true. In the case of wings, humans might have to develop lighter bones for flight and every change towards lighter bones would have to increase reproductive viability. Each step is a final product in itself.”

Joe ran a hand though his short black hair and bit his lip.” What about on other planets?”

Dawkins blushed, feeling suddenly aroused. “Other planets? I’m not sure I understand your question.”

“Would evolution work the same on other planets?” The office was very hot.

“Well, since we haven’t been to any other planets with life it’s hard to draw any conclusions. Personally, I would speculate that our model of natural selection, variability and heritability would likely be similar for other planets. We recognize evolution as a logical process which separates the chaotic forces of the universe and translates them into the obvious order of an organism. There are several examples of different organs evolving similar structures independently, for example, the eye has evolved independently several times. Light sensitive cells to a concave surface to a lens, each step helping to give an organism a reproductive advantage it’s a good logical design that follows basic rules. “

The book on Joes lap slid onto the floor, but neither of them noticed. “Professor Dawkins, I think you’re just about the smartest man I ever met.”

Dawkins laughed. “What about your friend Jerry. He’s a clever boy, don’t you think?”

Joe blushed. “Er, yes, clever, but that’s different than smart.”

Joe’s hair was soft and short, and it felt lovely between Dawkins fingers. Joe pulled Dawkins toward him, and Dawkins leaned into his touch.

“I think.” Joe said, his cool breath on Dawkins lips “That species on other planets might do things differently.” Joes tongue shot into Dawkins mouth, the buds on his tongue sharp, breaking the skin on the inside of Dawkin’s cheek. Dawkins moaned in a lustful stupor and put a hand on Joe’s broad chest, his ribs like segmented scales.

Infatuation

by | Oct 16, 2005 | Story | 0 comments

“I don’t want to come home.”

Reggie’s wife began to cry, tears sliding around her cheeks.

Reggie smiled beatifically. “Don’t cry Carol, its alright, really. You’re young and awfully perky. You’ll find another husband in no time.”

“But I’m in love with you!”

Looking at her open red mouth and the slobber on her lip, Reggie wondered how this had ever been enough for him. “Please try to understand, I’m very happy here. I don’t want to go back to earth. I don’t ever want to leave my Asas side, the only reason I did now was because she demanded that I commune with you.”

“Commune? She?” Carol’s hands trembled. “Do you fuck it?”

Reggie’s mouth twisted with revulsion. “What? No! That’s disgusting!” He folded his hands on his lap, his narrow face turning intense and cruel. “I say “she” because Asas is the female of her species, you sick hag, a life giver. What she does is nothing so banal as fucking. I myself have not had a sexual urge in weeks, well, not till now but I blame that on the fact that you’ve made me upset.”

Carol wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Oh Reggie, what have they done to you?”

Reggie shook his head. “These creatures are transcendent, utterly fascinating. Socially, they are far more advanced than we are. Not knowing one, you can’t comprehend. You know one and you don’t want to leave.”

Carols face went blank. “They’ve taken your mind.”

Reggie sighed, rolling his eyes. “No, that’s not it at all. Listen, I’ve only contacted you because Asas asked me to, she is concerned because of all of the messages I’ve been getting from you and the government. I haven’t had a lot of time to read them because Asas and I have been very busy, but those I have read have been very disturbing. Asas asked me to contact you because she is worried that if I don’t humans will send more people and those people would just fall in love and want to stay. Asas doesn’t think that it’s good for us, as a race, to be so infatuated and frankly, I agree. Of course, she’s going to keep me.” He sighed. “We have a very special relationship. They aren’t a cruel species Carol, they really are thinking of our best interests.” He paused and the blissful expression on his face changed for a moment. “Its possible that if they sent humans that weren’t receptive to social signals, autistics perhaps…no, it shouldn’t be risked.”

“Reggie, I miss you. Your mother is so worried, she asked me to-”

Reggie interrupted her, waving his hand. “This is all very unpleasant. Asas feeding time begins soon and I don’t want to miss it. It’s so beautiful, I can’t even describe. Don’t send any more messages, okay?” He stood and grinned at the screen. “Good luck finding a new husband babe.” Reggie pointed his finger at the screen like a cocked blaster and then the transmission cut.

Carol began to cry again, reaching toward the static of the dead screen. Light years away, Reggie ran joyfully to find Asas, the unpleasantness of the encounter with his wife fading quickly in the euphoria of new love.

Family Business

by | Oct 13, 2005 | Story | 0 comments

“It’s a family business.” The shopkeeper trembled, his telltale American face-lights blinking. “My daughter and my wife make the simulations themselves. Very good, high resolution, but they don’t do any touching, they’re good girls, they don’t touch.

“He didn’t want the Sims, did he?” said the thin man, running his fingers over the crystal display, inside which two women winked at him suggestively. The tiny store was filled with animated images of the same two women wearing different costumes and teasing the viewer with repeating loops from their Sims.

The shopkeeper put his palms against the sides of the simulation pods and blinked, drops catching in his eyelashes. “He made them do it real-time here. They were laughing and moaning and then he left and took the feeling with him. My daughter won’t leave her room and my wife is so ashamed she can’t speak. Neither of them have the heart to produce the Sims over the Network. Sims are the family business and without them working, we will be taken to the Steam camps by our creditors.”

“Psychics are brutes.” The thin man shoved his hands into his thick wool coat, oblivious to the Martian heat.

“Beasts.” said the shopkeeper.

The thin man winced and his brow wrinkled. “He’s coming here now, isn’t he?”

“Compadre, please, I need your help. He is coming here to rape my wife and daughter. Altec said that you could help, that when the zift was on the road you were the man to call.”

“You didn’t tell me he was coming here now. You knew, and you didn’t tell me.” The thin man shivered and pulled his coat tighter. “I don’t help liars.”

‘Papa?” A small voice drifted from upstairs. Little feet padded down the narrow broken staircase and a tiny woman came into view. She held herself against the wall and looked at the thin man as she spoke. “Are you okay Papa?”

“Yes baby. Papa is fine. This man is the one I told you about, he is going to help us.” The shopkeeper looked up, his face lights oscillating on the grey cheek of the thin man.

“Fuck you, yes. I’ll deal with him.” The thin man pulled out an illegal cigarette and lit it. “Psychics are brutes, but we take care of our own.”

The Silence

by | Oct 10, 2005 | Story

It made Kara nervous that the wall of her quarters breathed, waves of slow expansion and deflation. Cloth was the only thing between her and the harsh explosive cold of space. Kara knew that the blended weave, was a hundred time stronger than steel, lighter, and cheaper too. Without this material, the station wouldn’t be even a quarter as large. During launch, the space station was a slim, silver arrow, the people tied down inside, and after, the sides flew off and the station inflated like a balloon, blowing out in a rush of electricity and air, forming rooms and creating warm, safe space. Still, Kara couldn’t shake the feeling that a moment of madness and knife would kill them all. They said it wasn’t possible, but weightless in a station orbiting Earth, everything seemed possible.

Lean more than muscular, Kara she was dwarfed by the massive female marines who piloted the water ships and who bullied their way about the station like giant rolling boulders. Kara was used to being small, nearest to the ground, to having taller kids look down on her, but these women in weightlessness, seemed to surround her, feet below hers, head above, shoulders off to her side. She felt like a mouse in a cat’s mouth, dangling by her tail, limbs swinging. Men watched her eyes lingering, repressed urges flaming in the periphery of her vision. In the orphanage, she maintained a head of long hair, past her shoulder blades. She had cut off her hair for the trip, in the hope that it would make her look boyish, but it only succeeded in making her look like a pixie, and exposed the back of her neck to burning stares.

When she went to the medic for her weekly checkup, the female marine looked at her with hard eyes, jamming shots into her arm, making her eyes well up with tears. The doctor sneered and shook her large head.

“You think you are so beautiful. You think you can have anyone you want, you little bitch, but if you touch one of my men, or let him touch you, I will cut your wrists and tell everyone that it was suicide.”

Kara held her shoulder, a drops of blood floating from the wound. She felt nauseous and blinked her eyes to keep from crying. “I don’t-”

The doctor waved her hand and took out another syringe. “Don’t talk, you shut your fuck mouth. You make a shit and I shove this next one in your eye.”

Kara found herself unofficially banned from all recreation, isolated in quarters no bigger than a closet, silent as space. She looked down at the crowded earth through the plastic window, the cities lit in the dark, bright outlines tracing human habitation, so numerous in the black, everyone and everything connected by trillions of wireless connections, communications, signals, lights. She closed her eyes, and in the dark behind her lids, she was truly alone.