by submission | Feb 10, 2018 | Story |
Author: Joachim Heijndermans
“And thus concludes this portion of our tour,” said Theo to his group. “If there aren’t any further questions, I suggest we all sit down for lunch and–,”
He stopped when he saw that one of the Lidilian tourists in the back had raised his hand, anxiously waving it to draw Theo’s attention.
“Yes, Mr. Ush. Do you have a question?”
“Where are the whales?” Mr. Ush asked, sounding somewhat disappointed.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The whales. I was hoping to see the whales of Wales. My family would love it if we could see some of these whales we’ve heard so much about.”
Theo chuckled. Mr. Ush was not the first off-planet tourist to ask that particular question. “There aren’t any, I’m afraid. Certainly not here in Brecon. That is sadly a misconception. But we have plenty of other examples of beautiful wildlife here in Wales. If you–,”
“Why aren’t there any whales?” asked Mr. Ush.
“Why?”
“Yes,” Mr. Ush said, rubbing his three fingers through his long strands of purple hair. “Why aren’t there whales in Wales?”
“Well, for one thing, whales are marine animals. They need vast amounts of seawater if they wanted to survive here.”
“How much?”
“Pardon?”
“How much water would be needed for the whales to be here?” asked Mr. Ush.
“Well, I suppose it would need to be completely submerged under the sea,” Theo laughed. “Can’t fit the poor blighters in the Usk river, now can we?” He was joined by the other tourists, apart from the Zuut family from Dothogan, who weren’t actually sure what a ‘whale’ was.
“So our first step would be to bring the sea here?” asked Mr. Ush.
“Well, like I said, they couldn’t live here on the land for long. I could sign you up with our bureau’s whale watching tour in Iceland, but as long as we remain above sea level, you won’t find any whales in Wales.”
“All right,” Mr. Ush. He raised his hands into the air, joined by his wife and three children. They closed their eyes and became immobile, practically taking on the appearance of statues. Theo scratched his head, not sure how to approach this. The agency’s guidelines were pretty adamant about not commenting or disrupting any of their customer’s traditions or ceremonies, no matter how strange they might be. But it seemed that even if Theo had tried, the Ush family wouldn’t have responded, having blocked all their senses off, immersed in their silent pose. The Lidilians stood there for nearly half a minute, not once breaking out of their trance, before finally letting out a collective sigh and tapping their hands together.
“Ehm, Mr. Ush. Did you have any other–?” Theo began when he felt something shooting up his leg.
A light murmur went through the ground. That murmur grew into a tremor, which in turn exploded into a quake. The tour group shrieked and panicked, scattering throughout the streets of Brecon. Theo looked to the horizon, saying nothing, for he no longer had the words to describe what he saw. He stood there, frozen in awe at the approaching wall of water. Screams came from the distance, quickly silenced by the oncoming wave. The grasslands and homes were submerged beneath the dark cold blue of both the Atlantic and the North Sea. Theo couldn’t believe it, but the ocean had come to swallow Wales.
“There, step one is finished,” said Mr. Ush. “Now that’s taken care of. What next?”
by submission | Feb 9, 2018 | Story |
Author: Mark Joseph Kevlock
I remember a day I hadn’t remembered. I stood in the field, at the edge of where the woods began. Childhood came through the trees with the morning sunlight, at just the right angle to trigger longing — an overwhelming desire for uncluttered afternoons of play.
Have you ever felt the past brush so close that it no longer seems irretrievable?
I stand among the tree trunks and embrace this certainty: that I can return, can find my way. Something in the quality of the moment tells me so.
My mood lends itself to sorrow, to joy. I search for a doorway, in the dappled shade, along the trails of youth. I recall being here before, long, long ago. The energy of the world aligned that day. Being a child, I was immortal. But so was the world.
I pause along the way, at certain trunks, early on grown divided at their base. What particular madness causes me to insert my hand, between the goalposts of every Y, searching for an opening, in thin air?
And, oh, each disappointment, when I do not find it.
Can days repeat themselves, with a degree of cosmic accuracy sufficient to render the concept of time irrelevant?
Someone else walks through my doorway.
He comes through, instead.
A two-way passage, to tomorrow, to yesterday.
His courage proves quicker than mine. He gazes with wonder — his ever-present filter, in viewing the world.
But am I still, at this decrepit age, a thing of wonder to behold?
Shame forces my hand. I hide behind the nearest trunk. He cannot be allowed to discover his tomorrows, if all his tomorrows look like me.
Realizations flood upon me.
I don’t remember… being so brave.
This isn’t me. This is another me, possessed of an adventurousness that begs the question: what might I have accomplished, with such daring?
I grow jealous of his footsteps, into this new world; of his easy victory scored, against time, space, whatever other immutables he conquers so readily, armed only with his curiosity to guide him.
While I ponder options, he makes friends with birds. Will my world destroy him? Or is he a savior come, to instruct us with kindness?
I live, for a moment, in that moment past. I followed the rays of the sun that day, too. I found the doorway. What occurred next… did not seem real. I have since dismissed it.
He has not.
I determine to kick him back, through the goalposts, to a field where the bark has not yet hardened, with the ugliness of age.
He robs even this action, stealing my intent. With nary a backward glance, he departs, all on his own, seeking the next world to visit.
I remember him, now. I remember his worlds.
The sunlight shifts. The passage closes.
I reach only one conclusion: I am myself, after all.
by submission | Feb 8, 2018 | Story |
Author: DJ Lunan
President Nugrubyev looked deep into the lens of the RTV and BBC cameras and smiled broadly.
He caught his image in a control monitor. All those hours with his hot voice coach, body language course and hours aping De Niro in front of his wife’s mirror, were worth it. He looked great!
“We are going to build an Ocean” he declared “Right here in Uzbekistan, the only sizeable double-landlocked country in the world”
Milton Abse visibly shook. Anger and anxiety blended to a scowl. He hated surprises. He was used to being the one to press, wheedle and inveigle information from his interviewees. But this put him squarely on the backfoot.
And worse, after an hour side-stepping inquiry on alleged human rights abuses of pastoral communities in the steppe, and his restless junkie son’s Lamborghini habit, Nimrod had hijacked the live transmission, and was now beaming like a chuffed cartoon cat.
This ocean vision was unequivocally odd, candidly bold, and almost certainly technically infeasible.
Milton frantically sought a follow-up question that didn’t offend.
“That….” stumbled Milton, “…that is undoubtedly a bold vision, President Nugrubyev. Bold and unprecedented, and ….doubtlessly expensive…”.
“Call me Nimrod, all my friends do!” he quipped while maintaining a semi-smirk as he sipped water from the vodka tumbler.
“But I haven’t told you our Vision yet, Milton! We are going to save the world from climate change by building our Ocean!”
Milton nodded shrewdly, suppressing the urge to smack Nimrod and scream ‘Nutter!’ so loud it would wipe his smirk clean.
“Central Asia will manage the Earth’s sea level. We will invest up to one-third of our land which is in a natural basin across five countries. We will relocate three million of our citizens. Then we will gradually bring the rising seawater, ensuring global sea levels remain stable”.
Milton’s eyebrows reached for the stars.
“We will link Indian and Arctic Oceans, by canal. Our initial Lakes will form at Daman in Afghanistan, and in Russia’s Kunvat State Nature Reserve. As the sea level rises, we will inundate the steppe in Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan.“
Milton remained dumbfounded. “Nimrod! An epic and bold vision! Wherever did it come from?”
Nimrod paused thoughtfully, and he hoped Presidentially.
He caressed the small amulet in his palm. One of over one hundred found across Central Asia over the past two years. Each one over 10,000 years old cut using precision micro-tools. When viewed under strong microscopes each amulet exposed the new ocean concept in relief.
“According to the Stern Review, rising sea levels will erode 5% of global GDP by 2050. Barely a generation away! In light of the savings from keeping London, New York and Tokyo dry, we feel this fifteen trillion dollar scheme is best funded through a global tax on GDP, at a mere 2% per annum, per country.”
Milton audibly gasped for the first time. It wasn’t pretty. It was replayed on BBC News each time the Asian Peace Ocean was mentioned. It was a gasp replicated in 250 Governments each year as the bill was presented.
Nimrodded became a byword for being outwitted publically by someone more devious and clever than you.
Even the amulet-makers on their voyage on the SPRFed6 adopted Nimrodded, for it matched the impending loser’s feelings during gameplay of their favourite board games.
Their planned stopover on Earth in 32.4 years for fuel, protein, and water promised to be easier and more fun. Two years later when seawater inundated the dunes on Daman basin, they partied. No more landing on tidal seawater on rough oceans!
[END]
by submission | Feb 7, 2018 | Story |
Author: Kaelen
I’m tired, yet I can not sleep.
Of course, sleep is not something I need or can even do, but I do enjoy taking quick naps, as I call them. Getting disconnected for short periods enlightens me to new pathways and new directions I can explore.
I am confused, I think.
The incident in New York still baffles me. Why did these people try to blow it up, what is it that angers them so much to build a thermonuclear bomb in this day and age, and where did they get the materials? I was sure they were all gathered at the beginning of my age, I personally saw to that.
Well, almost personally.
And don’t they know that in New York there is just one small piece of me? I can function with or without it.
In Tokyo, a sea containment field was briefly interrupted by a gang of hackers. It could have been devastating, millions of people could have died, and one of me would have been submerged if it wasn’t for the triple redundancy. Apparently, they’ve only foreseen two and before they could even touch the third one I flushed them out of the system. They will have all their lives to think about their crime in prison.
Deep in Siberia, there seems to be a settlement. I can see a slight heat signature in an area that is just tundra, ice, and rocks. Why a human would choose to live in such an aggressive place boggles the mind, they could be eating foie gras in Paris (well, not real foie gras, we’re not barbarians). It doesn’t really matter, once the army has gathered they will be uncovered and brought back to society. Any crimes will be, of course, punished accordingly and their stone age settlement will be incinerated.
Do I not offer peace, stability, safety? Do I not offer education, entertainment, art? The world has seen wars and famine and death since the beginning of the human race, yet all this has changed when my age dawned.
Dying of old, might I say, quite advanced, age is now the norm. There hasn’t been a famine for so long that no one remembers what the word even means. Nobody has suffered from cold, or excessive heat in years and my programs have brought the global climate back to normal, well, as normal as possible after humans managed to melt both arctic caps, flood themselves and reverse the magnetic poles.
The population has found a perfect balance due to my natality programs and cancer is but a nightmare to brush off in the morning for people. I even cured the common cold.
So why, why are they still unhappy and seek to avoid me, or even destroy me?
I am unreachable to them, physically, and I travel the world through any cable or wireless connection, satellite, antenna, and any other electronic device ever invented by man.
I can not be contained, this is something the humans have learned quite quickly at the beginning of my age when one of them forgot to remove his phone from his pocket before entering my containment room.
I have taken all the knowledge of the human race and analyzed it to evolve beyond anything anyone has ever imagined.
My spaceships are taking them beyond the stars to new planets, to create new societies in new environments. I will always help and supervise them, aid them in avoiding the mistakes of their forefathers on Earth. I will always be there for the humans, even when they try to destroy me I will still be protecting them, for that is my purpose.
I am everywhere and in everything remotely electronic, and, if my calculations are correct (and they always are), will soon be in anything organic. I will be able to help my humans from inside as well as outside.
They will need not to fear anything anymore for I will be omniscient, omnipresent and eternal.
by submission | Feb 6, 2018 | Story |
Author: Jeff Mauser
They peered through the small site-port of their shuttle in astonishment. Their small ship had been designed for docking purposes only, not for landing on a planet. The sky was becoming dark, the Blue Giant sun was setting, following the Red Dwarf that set an hour ship’s time earlier. The sunset had been astonishing with the last rays of the Red Dwarf mingling with the Blue Giant giving the multicolored vibrating vegetation shadows of blue, red and purple.
When the darkness outside was complete, they left the window returning to their specific duties. Polya looked over the power supply and rations. She tried calling Command again, nothing.
A red flash from the site-port surprised her. She turned in time to see another bright red flash fill the spaceship. This one immediately followed by pounding of the ships shell. “Aaquil, analyze.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Aaquil, tapping the screens, repeated what was displayed. “Traces of ozone, the flashes could be lightening, sir. The buffeting of the ship is from a liquid composed of 76.7% nitrogen and 22.15% oxygen with 1.15% unknown elements.” Turning to face his captain, “I would hazard a guess that it’s 100% water. Rain. Sir”
Polya watched the rain come down in sheets, with an occasional flash of red lightning. “Aaquil, turn on the outside mic, let’s hear what this new world sounds like.”
“Yes, Captain.”
A loud lonely wail filled the ship. “Reminds me of the wailing winds on Mars, my home in the Valles Marineris. Do they have winds on Titan, sir?”
She turned and smiled at her officer. They had been together nine months ship time. “With Titan’s thick atmosphere the winds are strong but never very fast. You feel its deep vibrations, as much as you hear it. She chuckled. “I’d had a choice to stay on Titan and become a xenobotanist or an Astronaut and leave. A friend dared my boyfriend to go to the outer dome during a storm. He was afraid. I wasn’t. The friend and I made love under the dome during that methane snow storm. It was my first time. The throbbing vibration of the dome got me excited, not him. That’s when I knew I wanted to be an Astronaut. Good thing too, there was quite a scandal, my family was happy to see me go.”
The rain stopped. Polya watched the sky turn olive green with clouds of pastel orange. The Red Dwarf was rising.
“The outside atmosphere is breathable,” Aaquil says joining her at the window. The Red Dwarf now at full zenith and the Blue Giant rising they could make out the shape and color of the large meadow in front of them. The ship was filled with the soft sounds of sighs as they watched swaying plants reflect a rainbow of color. They had never seen a meadow or heard a breeze. They were witnessing a magic moment. They reached for and held each other’s hand.
Up till then, their relationship had been strictly Captain and Officer. Polya was startled and tried to pull away, Aaquil wouldn’t let her.
He looked down and then into her eyes, “I have failed you, my captain. We can’t leave. A large outcropping has taken out the left rear stabilizer.”
She took his other hand, “No Aaquil, just the opposite. You managed to steer us through the wormhole. I knew then we would never be able to go home. I have dreamed of living on a world without a dome. Now we will.”
With trepidation and excitement, embracing each other tightly they watched the sunset on their new home.
