by submission | Dec 15, 2022 | Story |
Author: Majoki
You know that feeling you get when you’re halfway to work and you realize that you can’t remember the last fifteen minutes of your drive. You know you’ve been gripping the wheel staring out the windshield, but you aren’t really there. Some part of your subconscious was driving, a deep reptilian part of the brain. Thank god for that cold bloodedness. We mammals are too fuzzy, too distractible, much like my cat.
I’m a bit fuzzy and distracted right now. Not halfway to work, but halfway to Zeta Epsilon V. It’s a blue rather nondescript star which might or might not hold the key to human consciousness. Impossibly near this blue star’s surface is an infla-grav portal that is not part of the Outreach. This portal predates human astraportation. It shouldn’t exist. It does.
I’m not the first to try to figure it out. I could be the last, though. The portal has become unstable. Inflatons are beginning to outnumber gravitons around Zeta Epsilon V. Soon that instability will go critical. So, I’m on my way, though I’m really not. Just my thought.
That’s the crux of this. All of what’s happening exists in human thought. Our consciousness. And no one really understands what that means. We get the neurologic electro-chemical underpinnings, but not the field dynamics. We don’t know if its particle or string based. Containment is a factor, though not an absolute, otherwise we would never have managed to Outreach.
This is a case of the whole being greater than the sum of the parts—and that’s not even certain. Consider your own consciousness. Your thought. Your mind. Naturally shaped by biological force and function, it seeks to transcend the physical world around it. The mind births ideas and dreams, notions and desires. It harbors innumerable pasts and futures while processing an ever more thinly sliced present. A momentary calculus under an infinite curve. In the simplest sense, a mind is its own universe of possibility.
It is the metaverse in a local nutshell. Because of this, stasis management of inflatons and gravitons have made Outreach possible. Thought unbounded. The metaphysical meets the physical and becomes philotic physics: consciousness traveling light years beyond light speed.
And, thus, I’m halfway to Zeta Epsilon V and still thinking about my cat. More to the point, thinking about its mind. My cat can’t Outreach—yet. Some say it must learn to upreach or we must learn to downreach, but that seems inelegant to me.
There’s a lot about existence that lacks elegance, but the concept of consciousness is not one of them. Thought is a field. What are the limits? What are the ties that bind? What are the barriers that block? Zeta Epsilon V may be the wellspring. It is not human sourced. It is not a ghost town, graveyard, purgatory, heaven or hell. It is an outlier.
Anomalies are the cornerstones of larger truths. Like my cat. It hissed as I left this morning. Just as my eyes turned inward, vacating for portage.
My cat is probably nipping at my fingers, pawing at my wrists. It knows I’ve left it again. It knows I’ve Outreached. It wants to come too, but not to be with me. My cat doesn’t think that way. Its consciousness is primal. Regal. Imperial. It seeks a universe to dominate.
We will battle in the far reaches of some universe. That’s my theory of Zeta Epsilon V.
It will hiss.
I will make it purr.
by submission | Dec 14, 2022 | Story |
Author: Mark Renney
Over the years Tanner had become highly attuned to his work and was able to spot the conspirators from afar. He could pick them out on a busy street, in a crowded bar or restaurant. This wasn’t ever based on anything concrete but he just knew. Perhaps it was because he had been obliterating these people for so long. Rubbing them out, the ones who conspired against and opposed the system, once they had been exposed after the fact.
Tanner had reported his suspicions hundreds upon hundreds of times and he had never been wrong. Each and everyone of those individuals had been found guilty and eventually their names appeared on The Eraser list. Occasionally Tanner will be appointed the case of one of his suspects and he always finds this deeply satisfying. He had been the first to recognise that this particular person was a potential agitator, someone who could easily stray and be pulled from the centre. Someone who would believe the lies and help to perpetuate the myth and now Tanner was able to wipe him or her from the face of the earth or at least from the system. To remove all evidence and any legitimacy that might still remain.
Tanner had often considered creating a pamphlet of his own, writing and distributing it anonymously. It would be a manual of sorts, offering advice on how to recognise the troublemakers, those challenging the system, but more importantly those who haven’t yet but who might.
Whenever he began putting it together in his head it always seemed absurd. The notion that people should be suspicious of others based on their haircut or the kind of clothes they wore, or which newspaper they took, the music they listened to, the books they read.
Just because someone visited the library and checked out a novel by a long ago formerly banned writer it didn’t necessarily mean that particular someone would become a conspirator. A pamphlet might help, yes, but really it would be little more than a list of traits and affectations, of mannerisms and possible signs and it wasn’t enough.
by submission | Dec 13, 2022 | Story |
Author: T. Thornton Gray
I stopped wearing a mask. I don’t know if it was because I was used to the stench around me or if it was because decomposition was turning to mummification. My search to find canned food that is over a year old has become far more difficult. If I don’t find more, I will soon be rotting away like everyone else.
I suppose I was right. I was the one who figured it out. I could now say I told you so, to all those who mocked me and thought of me as some kind of nut. But I told you so doesn’t register on the ears of the dead.
No one believed in “UFOs”, or an invasion from another world. But there were so many clues. For centuries they have been coming. Looking over and lusting after our Earth. Abductions, cattle mutilations and crop circles. They were not some attempts to contact us, but to eradicate us. They now knew how our bodies worked, what it took for us to survive. They knew what we ate.
It was as if a switch was flipped. Our food, beef, poultry, fish and vegetables were suddenly genetically altered. What once sustained us had become like rat poison. We gobbled it up only to find ourselves screaming out our agonizing last breath. Most passed in one night. Some small groups lasted longer, weeks, even months, but pretty soon everyone just has to eat.
I’m certain that I am the last. Soon they will come. I see the strange lights even in the day. They hover in the sky like the stars they came from. They wait and watch. Soon they will come and take Earth, their conquered prize without so much as a fight.
They don’t know about me, that I still live.
I have my pick of guns. The one I chose is the old lever action rifle. One like John Wayne would have used. It just seemed right. I hold no expectations of winning any sort of fight. I just want to land one good punch and make them pay as dearly as possible for my life and home.
Even now the ships descend. They really do look like saucers. I hide amongst the corpses and abandoned cars on the road near the field as the ships soundlessly touch down. An opening appears as I draw a bead with my rifle. A tall slender being steps onto the grass, its gray skin gleams under the sun as its large almond shaped eyes are shielded from the light by three long slim fingers.
My finger squeezes ever so gently until the rifle kicks against my shoulder. The creature crumbles so easily.
“Hello from Earth you dirty sons of bitches.” I scream and work the lever again.
The flash from the ship is blinding…
by submission | Dec 11, 2022 | Story |
Author: Rachel Handley
“Bloody hell.”
“Shush, Terry, don’t go invoking hell willy nilly.”
“I’m neither being willy nor nilly, Martha. Did you not see the email?
“Oh, what email?”
Martha pressed the button on her wrist. A small hologram screen spread over her left hand.
Dear Angelic Members
Due to unforeseen circumstances, we will have to cut costs in the coming eon. We are sorry to say that this will mean certain roles will be made redundant, whilst others will be redeployed. He will be in touch shortly.
Best,
Viv
“What the fuck.” Said Martha. Three angels turned to look at her as she repeated every swear word she knew. Several thousand eyes followed her lips as she tried to keep her voice as low as possible.
“Exactly. Also, what the hell is Viv doing signing his letters? Is this real? Is it a Him-Damned prank?”
“Never mind that, what about ‘unforeseen circumstances’ – what the shit is that, Martha? Unforeseen? Have you ever heard God say such a thing, bloody no you haven’t, because he bloody sees everything. Jesus.”
“Christ.”
“Exactly.”
“What will we do? You know what redundancy means? It means being recycled to the material plane. It’s way too fleshy down there. And humans only have two eyes you know, it’s weird as fuck.” Said Martha.
“Only two? I thought they had four?”
“Two!”
“Wow. How can they even see?” Said Terry.
“No clue. It’s a miracle, I bet. Some sort of wonky flesh magic He likes to fling out once every million years.”
Martha and Terry looked at an angel who, whilst shrieking about costs, tried to punch a nearby angel. They were grabbed by the fires of Down Below so swiftly the angel barely made a yelp as they were taken.
“Maybe they’ll send us to the Down Below instead?” Said Martha looking at the dwindling smoke.
“They might, it is a bit toasty down there. Fleshy too, I bet.”
“I bet.” Said Martha.
Swearing could be heard from all corners of the room, if it could be called a room. Imagine walls of mist. A place made of cloud. Sounds all damp doesn’t it, but angels seem to like it.
“I wonder if we can petition Him, see if He’ll change His mind?” said Martha.
“Not likely, when does he ever budge on stuff?”
“Rarely.” Said Martha.
“Rarely?” Said Terry.
“OK, never. Crap.”
by submission | Dec 9, 2022 | Story |
Author: Andrew Bird
Kerrrrr-SHAZ felt his taut antennae shudder as he struggled to slow the Flying Saucer’s plummet towards jagged Nevada mountains. His face, reflected in the mirrored control panel before him, drained from bright to pale green in fear. Desrius in the co-pilot’s seat beside him tilted his grey elongated head, looking bored as he regarded Kerrrr-SHAZ with oblong obsidian eyes. Kerrrrr-SHAZ heard in his brain: [May I propose a solution?].
The electro magnetic pulse from the Earthlings’ atom bomb test had fried the anti grav engine and pumping more power into it was merely postponing the inevitable. If they could not fix the engine quickly, they would create their own Martian crater right here on Earth.
“How about we lighten the load?” shouted Kerrrrr-SHAZ over the roar of the struggling engine as his beady red eyes flicked to the ejection handle on the back of Desrius’ seat. Kerrrrr-SHAZ imagined pulling the handle and the look of surprise on Desrius’ face as the ejection seat rocketed him out of the Saucer. But with Desrius gone, he might be paired with Glerius (nooooooooo conversation) or Blorius (Mr “Sayings of the Emperor” himself). With a mountain range looming larger in the viewscreen, Kerrrrr-SHAZ realised desperate measures were called for. “What do you suggest Desrius?” he spat out between gritted sharp teeth.
The corners of Desrius’ tiny mouth curved upwards slightly in pleasure. [Well, Ker-Shaz, the gravitational engine has been somewhat overwhelmed because someone insisted on observing the detonation rather closer than advisable]. Bright green returned to Kerrrrr-SHAZ’s face as anger mounted. [Perhaps…], Desrius pondered as a particularly bleak mountain filled the viewscreen, […you might consider culminating the current energy transfer then reinitiating it.] “So, turn the engine off and on?” Kerrrrr-SHAZ said, stabbing a big red button. The roar of the engine was replaced by the rush of air outside as the Saucer entered freefall. A second stab and the engine coughed back into life, causing the Saucer to lurch upwards, narrowly missing being skewered by the mountain’s peak.
Kerrrrr-SHAZ felt his antennae droop in relief. “Well, the Saucer got zapped but you recorded the test, so the Emperor should have mercy on us, right Desrius?” […]. “You were recording, right Desrius?” The mirrored control panel before Desrius reflected the grey draining from his face.
