by submission | Sep 29, 2013 | Story |
Author : Ryan C.
Thoughts of a lifelong priest upon opening his eyes after closing them for the last time.
So this is it?
A lifetime of kneeling and praying and fasting and flagellating to atone for my sins.
A lifetime of sins I could never hope to atone for and this is it?
It turns out the afterlife isn’t a paradise with golden streets and it’s not a solid inky blackness or a brilliant blinding white.
No.
It turns out the afterlife is a four meter tall expanse of dull maroon with no one to speak to.
Funny how that works huh?
by submission | Sep 28, 2013 | Story |
Author : Aron White
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Davidson said, staring at Earth through the viewport. “There’s nothing like seeing the real thing. Reality is the ultimate high-definition experience. Just a few more days and we’ll be heading back home.”
Anders floated across the cabin, bumped Davidson out of the way and stuck his face against the transparent material.
“It would be more interesting if we weren’t performing the same missions as our grandfathers.”
Davidson rolled his eyes. “Show a bit of respect for those ‘grandfathers.’ They broke barriers and paved the way for us.”
“My point exactly. This isn’t the 1960’s, it’s the 21st century for heck’s sake! We need something new, something adventurous! Let’s break some new barriers for a change!”
Davidson shook his head. “What a crew the three of us make. One yearning for home, another for adventure and the third…” Davidson turned away from the viewport. “And how about you, Bronson? What’s your dream?”
Across the cabin, Bronson was staring out another viewport away from Earth, towards empty space.
“Me?” Bronson said without moving. “My dream is over. Now it’s time to go home.”
Davidson chuckled. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re facing the wrong way. Earth is on this side of the room.”
“Your home,” Bronson said, slowly turning to face Davidson and Anders, “but not mine.”
In a matter of seconds, Bronson’s human appearance melted away and shrunk downwards into a humanoid alien with stumpy appendages, chubby abdomen and a large cranium with big black, lidless eyes.
“What the…” Before Davidson could finish his sentence, the Bronson-turned-alien teleported across the cabin and used a three-fingered hand to tap each astronaut on the shoulder. Both men instantly passed out.
Twenty minutes later, Davidson woke to find both he and a still-unconscious Anders bound with metallic cords, secured against one of the cabin walls. The alien floated several feet away, typing commands into the spacecraft navigation system.
“Wha…what are you?” Davidson stammered.
“Does Roswell, New Mexico ring a bell?”
“That…that was supposed to be a rumor…”
“Well, the rumor is now the reality standing before you, Davidson. How’s that for a high-definition experience?”
“But…but why are you doing this, Bronson? Is that even your real name?”
“Bronson was the name I adopted in my human form. I’m commandeering this ship to return to my own planet. I was the lone survivor of the Roswell crash and have spent the past century waiting and watching. I needed a vehicle to launch myself into space, hence the gig as an astronaut.”
“But how will you…”
“There are leapways, or wormholes, throughout space. They’re not hard to find if you know what to look for. I’ve located one and we’re moments away from entry.”
Davidson’s eyes bulged as the full weight of the situation began to sink in.
The alien turned away from the navigation system to face Davidson. “I’m sorry to take you away from Earth, but do try to relax.”
“Relax?! How do you intend for Anders and I…”
“I’m optimistic you will be able to make a home of my planet as I did yours, and Anders shouldn’t have a problem with the new situation.”
“What makes you say…”
“Anders is about to fulfill one of his biggest dreams.”
Davidson tilted his head to one side questioningly as the alien continued.
“For the human race, he and you are both about to break many new barriers in space exploration, just like your grandfathers.”
Davidson was quiet as their spacecraft reached its intended target and vanished into the leapway.
by submission | Sep 27, 2013 | Story |
Author : Carl Poffley
“Nothing.” grumbled Amado irritably. “Absolutely nothing!”
“Why does that annoy you?” Kia replied, fiddling with the instruments.
“We came all the way out here to a planet that’s unbelievably similar to Earth and not a single sign of intelligent life! Just some dumb animals and trees! Lots and lots of trees!”
“Well the trees are interesting aren’t they?”
Amado looked at the tree, the one that had been dubbed “Specimen G-42371”. It was a strange shape, like some strangely formed pot, and the top was crowned with a messy cluster of branches with leaves of various colours and shapes. At first it had been novel: a real life alien tree! But there were hundreds, thousands of them for miles around, clumped together so tightly that it was practically all he had seen since they had arrived on the planet.
“They look different, yes, but they’re still just *trees*, Kia!”
“Their root networks can go on for miles, linking hundreds of thousands of them together and we have absolutely no idea why. Doesn’t that excite you at all? Like, not even a little bit?” she checked the equipment and frowned. “Y’know, it’s weird: our instruments are picking up complex chemical processes where the roots intertwine, but there’s no rhyme or reason to them. Just seems completely random…”
“Probably just anomalies caused by equipment malfunctions. Most likely boredom induced malfunctions because they’re as sick of these trees as I am!”
Kia looked at him quizzically. “Boredom? We’re on a whole new world and you’re *bored*? Seriously? I’ll be honest, you’re not really acting much like a man of science. Where’s your scientific curiosity Dr. Kalawakan?”
Amado paused for a moment, then sighed. “It’s just… I just… I spent my entire life dreaming of meeting aliens. Intelligent aliens I mean. I can remember when I was child, and the sheer excitement I felt when we learned that, against all odds, this planet had all the criteria for life. The whole reason I went into science was to head here and find new alien cultures and civilisations! You wouldn’t believe the amount of hoops I had to jump through in order to get onto this mission, and now that we’re finally here… there’s nothing! I just… I feel like… like I’ve wasted my life on some stupid impossible dream…”
“*That’s* what this is about?”
Kia felt herself begin to laugh, but suddenly noticed that Amado looked like he was going to cry. “Hey, don’t worry about it.” she said warmly. “I mean, just because this planet doesn’t have any intelligent life, doesn’t necessarily mean that we’re alone in the universe right?”
“Yes but… It’s just…”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s head back to base camp. Get something to eat.”
Slowly, the science team began to head back, leaving the trees alone. Specimen G-42371 stood still, its leaves rustling in the evening breeze. Beneath the ground, its roots began to release a series of chemicals into those of the trees surrounding it, so subtle that each one lasted less than a moment, yet so intricate that it took several hours before the whole sequence had emerged. When it was finished, those trees that had received it began to transmit it to the trees *their* roots were in contact with, and so it went on for miles and miles across the planet’s surface, passing from root to root, from tree to tree…
They would later consider it one of the greatest poems in history.
by submission | Sep 26, 2013 | Story |
Author : Morrow Brady
The Norwellians were the eighth interstellar race to join the Galactic Cabinet. A millennia of experience had refined their intelligence and powers of diplomacy orders above all others.
And so, an unprecedented era of peace reigned across the stars.
The Cabinet’s reliance on the Norwellians was emphasised during the Phase – a short period every year, when the Norwellians would take leave from all duties and return to their home planet. The Phase was explained as a time for reflection, where they must not be disturbed.
Immediately following their departure for the Phase, an attack commenced on the Seethe home planet of Jerrin by a race called the Lins. It was timed perfectly to maximise the duration of damage through the Phase.
The Cabinet failed to resolve the conflict and watched in despair as Jerrin’s lush green surface became bruised and torn. In desperation, they reached out and demanded the Norwellians perform their Cabinet duties. The reaction was unexpected.
Like dragonflies over a pond, Lin battleships hovered over Jerrin. Warping beside each battleship appeared Kray stars, devices long outlawed by the Cabinet. Instantly each battleship folded inward, forming a white hot sphere. Each sphere then accelerated away from Jerrin towards the Lin home planet of Hy. Nearing the speed of light, they impacted, pushing the planet’s core to its surface. Lin became unmade.
Across galactic space, a silent assassin pulse decelled the biology of every remaining Lin.
The esteem held for the Norwellian’s, gave weight to their response. However, this was not enough to silence the roar of the public voice that demanded reasoning.
The Norwellians remained silent.
Patiently, the Cabinet waited for Phase End. Too fearful to disturb the Norwellians again. Too self conscious of their own inability to understand.
At the end of the Phase, a cruiser launched from the Norwellian home world and arrived carrying a sole passenger, the Norwellian Chief.
Through live galactic cast, the Norwellian Chief stood as expressionless as the stone plinth below him.
“Cabinet members and universal life. We are a proud and peaceful race. Our position within the Cabinet has given us a stage to share our knowledge of harmony and good will. For this we are grateful”
The chief slowly bowed his head and an expression of discomfort appeared across his long face.
“As a Norwellian, we, like all races, have genetic frailties. Biological coding so intertwined with the essence of our making that it cannot be separated. Our pride shrouded this weakness and now you hear the truth”
The chief rested a shaking hand on the stone rostrum.
“The time known to you as the Phase, is not a time for reflection. It is a time where we mentally regress to a primitive and instinctual state. A being so adverse to what you have come to know, that we must lock ourselves away for fear of its escape”
He looked upward and gazed momentarily, drawing in a deep breath.
“During our last Phase, you sought help from a different Norwellian. A dark Norwellian, bound in fear and hatred with no means of expressing that terror. Our action against the Lin was a violent release. A natural expulsion of hate, expressed using weaponry we have tried to forget. In reprising our Cabinet role, we have determined the only solution for this unforgivable act is this”
The Chief pulls his hand from his robe and discharges a hand weapon into his mouth, collapsing lifeless on the podium.
The audience screamed in silence. The tension interrupted moments later by a projected image of the Norwellian home planet exploding.
by submission | Sep 24, 2013 | Story |
Author : Bob Newbell
TRANSCRIPT OF THE FIRST OFFICIAL MEETING BETWEEN UNITED NATIONS SPACE AMBASSADOR JEFFREY CHATMAN AND AMBASSADOR VELDRIK-ORAN OF THE IMPERIUM OF ZETA RETICULI.
UNITED NATIONS HEADQUARTERS, NEW YORK, 15 JANUARY 2086
CHATMAN: On behalf of the peoples of Earth, it is an honor and a pleasure to meet you.
TRANSLATION ROBOT: Your greeting cannot be literally translated into your counterpart’s language. But I will try to convey the basic sentiment.
[ROBOT speaks to VELDRIK-ORAN in an alien language. The Zeta Reticuli ambassador responds.]
TRANSLATION ROBOT: Today, the people of Zeta Reticuli and the people of Earth are like prisoners in the same detention camp.
CHATMAN: What?
TRANSLATION ROBOT: That’s the closest translation possible in English. The connotation is that your people and the ambassador’s share a strong bond of friendship.
CHATMAN: Oh. I am confident that both our worlds will benefit from the foundation we build here today.
[TRANSLATION ROBOT and VELDRIK-ORAN converse.]
TRANSLATION ROBOT: Our feet are all stuck in cement.
CHATMAN: I beg your pardon?
TRANSLATION ROBOT: The ambassador shares your hopes.
CHATMAN: Oh. Humanity looks forward to learning about your people and their culture and history.
TRANSLATION ROBOT: My bank account is overdrawn.
CHATMAN: Huh?
TRANSLATION ROBOT: By this he means he lacks the means to express how hopeful he is of a cultural interchange.
CHATMAN: Ah. Would you be willing to join me in a press conference later and allow our journalists to ask you a few questions?
TRANSLATION ROBOT: The service at this restaurant is horrid.
CHATMAN: What?!
TRANSLATION ROBOT: The ambassador will attend your press conference. His expression implies that if one wants something done, one must do it for one’s self. In other words, he is willing to do this.
CHATMAN: Are you sure our conversation is being properly translated?
TRANSLATION ROBOT: Sir, both you and the Zeta Reticuli ambassador have radically different biologies, cultures, and histories. Translation under such circumstances is an art, not a science. I am trying to balance communicating what each of you is literally saying with rendering the translation linguistically and culturally comprehensible. Just a moment…
The ambassador says you must have gotten your clothes at a fire sale.
CHATMAN: I beg your pardon! This suit was a gift from my wife.
TRANSLATION ROBOT: Human beings are like a rash the doctor cannot treat.
CHATMAN: This is ridiculous. We need a different translator.
TRANSLATION ROBOT: I assure you, Mr. Ambassador, the conversation is being rendered as precisely as possible within the cultural and linguistic limits.
CHATMAN: Alright. Ask the ambassador if his people have encountered other intelligent life in the cosmos.
TRANSLATION ROBOT: Ambassador Chatman, I couldn’t ask that! Ambassador Veldrik-Oran would almost certainly interpret such a question as a lewd double entendre.
CHATMAN: That’s it! I’ve had it! I can’t do my job under these circumstances. Tell Veldrik-Oran he can take his diplomatic mission and stick it where the sun don’t shine.
[TRANSLATION ROBOT and VELDRIK-ORAN converse. VELDRIK-ORAN gets out of chair, walks over to CHATMAN and gives him a warm embrace.]
TRANSLATION ROBOT: That was very well received, Ambassador Chatman. Just a moment…
Ambassador Veldrik-Oran says…the light’s been green for ten seconds, for the love of God hit the gas pedal!
CHATMAN: What the hell does that mean?
TRANSLATION ROBOT: He wants to establish a warp gate in orbit around your world so the people of Earth and the people of Zeta Reticuli can visit each more easily. Congratulations, Ambassador Chatman! Your diplomatic mission is a complete success.
END TRANSCRIPT
