It's A Small Universe

Author : Jeff McGaha

My head ached painfully.

I squeezed Matthew’s hand tight as he squirmed. Sweat seeped between us, lubricating and aiding his attempts at escape. I sighed and gave up on holding his hand. I grabbed his wrist instead. He continued to struggle, but it was a losing battle.

I looked over at Lilly. Her brown hair stuck to her flushed face.

“We shoulda bought him a leash,” I said smiling.

Lilly rolled her eyes at me, but grinned.

The line continued to move leisurely. An upbeat song rang from the speakers, looping without any noticeable breaks. Matthew hummed the tune, while maintaining his escape efforts.

I felt it before I heard it. It started with a low vibration in my feet, turning into a low bass that shook everything. Lilly asked, “What’s going on?”

I ignored her and scanned the crowd instead. Confused and worried looks played across the faces I saw. Heads everywhere swiveled, searching for the source of the sound. “Look,” a middle aged man shouted, pointing to the sky. As a group, everyone gazed upward. A collective gasp sounded from the crowd.

Lilly, Matthew and I stood in the stopped line under an overhang. Our view of the sky blocked.

The crowd parted, forming a large round empty space. I finally saw it when it was about forty feet above the ground.

It was unmistakably a spaceship. It could have been a flying saucer from a 1960’s science fiction film. A few people, believing this to be a stunt or show, applauded and began snapping pictures.

The ship stopped a few feet short of touching down and hovered in place.

“Oww, Datty, you hootin’ me,” Matthew cried. I looked down at him, realizing I’d been steadily squeezing him harder since the vibrations had begun.

I picked him up and held him in my arms. I glanced at Lilly’s panicked face and then turned back to the spaceship.

An opening appeared in the side of the ship and a ramp slid to the ground. The crowd stood frozen, waiting. The music from the rides still played.

Two aliens appeared at the top of the ramp. They were living cliches. Just like their spaceship, they too could have been designed for a classic science fiction film. They were green with large heads and eyes. Their mouths, ears and noses were small. Their bodies were tall and lean.

One stood motionless at the top of the ramp, holding something in its slender hand, while the other began moving forward gracefully.

Once it reached the edge of the crowd, it stopped. It motioned for a woman in the front. She muddled forward. I wanted to scream for her to run, but was unable to force out the words.

It placed its hands on her head, its fingers wrapping around her. They both stood unmoving for ten long seconds. It let go and the woman sprinted back into the crowd.

It turned to the other on the ramp and with an unmoving mouth, uttered, “No, not these.” It glided back up the ramp casually and spun to face the crowd, “Do it.” The other began tapping furiously on the device in his hand, his fingers blurring with the speed. It halted beating on the device abruptly.

My head ached painfully.

I squeezed Matthew’s hand tight as he squirmed. Sweat seeped between us, lubricating and aiding his attempts at escape. I sighed and gave up on holding his hand. I grabbed his wrist instead. He continued to struggle, but it was a losing battle.

I looked over at Lilly. Her brown hair stuck to her flushed face.

“Let’s get out of here. I feel like I’ve been standing in this line forever.”

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The Belly of the Beast

Author : Todd Hammrich

My name is Jeffrey Donahume and I’m making this report in case anyone out there is listening. I am the pilot of Single Shot 5 of the one-way exploratory expeditions. I was on my way out of the system when, unfortunately, my ship was damaged entering the Oort Cloud. Most of my equipment was damaged but I was able to maneuver the ship to land on a strange asteroid my sensors detected right before impact. While my communications array is no longer reliable, I hope and pray that someone detects this transmission, because it will change the way we think about the Universe.

After a somewhat rough landing upon the asteroid I left the ship with my few handheld sensors, the ships more powerful ones being out of commission. The asteroid itself was roughly spherical, but had a strange surface feature I intended to examine more closely because it was registering as a heat source. Having landed fairly close to the anomaly, it was an easy walk from the shuttle. You may not believe me, but I nearly fainted when I came upon it, because it was a console of some sort. Not human in origin, but definitely of an advanced technical design. The heat source was emanating from what I could only identify as the interface, indicating to me that it was still active.

I approached it, intending to examine it closely with my instruments when I felt a strange sensation sweep through my body and then…I was somewhere else. And I remembered.

I was a single celled organism newly evolved from the primordial soup of some distant world. Millions of years passed away with nearly no change as I swam and divided in an ocean full of creatures just like me. Then I came into contact with another of my kind and something happened, we connected and joined. Our bodies didn’t merge, but our minds did, rudimentary as they were and we were…stronger, smarter, better. Soon we had an entire colony, replicating and growing, each separate, but together.

The ocean was full of colonies. Sometimes we merged, other times we fought most bitterly until one was consumed by the other, but all the while the colonies grew. Other forms of life never had a chance as they were ambushed, surrounded and eaten. After a few billion years there was only the colony and we were all one, covering the entire world, ocean and land, connected. Our intellect was massive and we learned how to adapt the materials and elements to our needs, how to change and adapt parts of the whole to serve different purposes and eventually, to change those elements of the world to replicate even more.

When the planet was consumed we looked to the heavens. The closest planets and moons were absorbed in the same manner an amoeba eats its prey. The colony spread out a thin tendril and consumed each. As we grew, our mind grew and we learned. For a time we drew energy from our star, consuming every other particle in the system, and when we had converted all to the colony’s needs, we took the star also, and moved on…

I don’t know how long the dream, or memory lasted, but billions of years must have gone by. Someone, as a warning, or maybe a lesson, made the artifact but I understood. I had seen. That was all very long ago. The colony has consumed all leaving only a few pockets to grow. Welcome to the Belly of the Beast.

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Trade-In

Author : Benjamin Dunn

Little Tyler looked around nervously. Tim dragged him into the reception area by the hand, a scowl engraved on his face. He marched up to the reception desk, hoisted Tyler by the armpits, and sat him down in front of the receptionist.

“I want a refund,” said Tim. The receptionist’s eyes flashed red, and she continued staring into the middle distance. After a few minutes, her eyes turned green and she looked up at him, a well-practiced frown on her face.

“A refund, sir?”

“Yeah. My son’s a dimwit.”

“I beg your pardon?” Tim unlovingly shoved Tyler across the desk. Tyler looked up, confused, looking like he was going to start crying.

“He just stares off into space during his reading lesson, and when I went to get him his first neuro-implant, the doctor wouldn’t do it because he said he had an ‘abnormal brain.’” Tim started to raise his voice. “What the hell does that mean? I paid for a gifted child, and a gifted child’s what I’ve come here to get!” Tyler was crying now, his mouth a big toothless cavern. Tim ignored him.

“What is your child’s name?” asked the receptionist.

“Tyler Bernard Horton Conway.” The receptionist’s eyes went red again as her mind floated off into the main database. They were green again a moment later.

“Sir, I read here that, although you did order a gifted child, the warranty you purchased guarantees only normal-level brain function. Now, if he had somehow become mentally retarded, the warranty would cover you, but in this case, there’s nothing I can do.” Tim’s face went red and he pounded his fists on the desk.

“Look here!” he bellowed, and then turned to Tyler. “Stop crying, young man!” Tyler stopped immediately. He’d had enough harsh spankings to understand that his father meant business. “Tyler, what’s the capital of Argentina?” Tyler’s tear-streaked eyes looked up at his father, then flicked over to the receptionist. She stared at him blankly; she wasn’t in the business of getting friendly with products.

“Bwenos Awes,” said Tyler, sniffling. Tim’s face creased in disgust.

“You see how long that took him? The boy’s a moron! I want to talk to your superiors.” The receptionist barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Those eyes went red for a moment as she contacted them, and a moment later, a hologram of a sharply-dressed man appeared behind the desk.

“My name is Herman Coll. I’m head of the public relations department. How may I help you?” asked the hologram.

“Yes! My son is an idiot, and I specifically requested a child of above-average intelligence.” The hologram turned red, then blinked green.

“Sir, as Mrs. Richardson has already informed you, you purchased a warranty that guarantees only normal intelligence. If you wish to dispute that warranty, I can direct you to the correct people, but I should warn you: GeneTopia’s lawyers are well-engineered, and they have never lost a case.” Tim scowled at the hologram. Then he scowled down at his son, who was busy sucking his thumb. He turned to the hologram.

“Can I trade him in?” The hologram smiled.

“Certainly, sir. That’s GeneTopia policy: trade-ins always welcome.”

“Fine. Then take him back. I want a son who can think.” A representative in a black jumpsuit appeared from around the corner and led little Tyler away. Tyler cried and cried, screaming “Bwenos Aweeeees!” until he disappeared down the hallway.

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Hauntingly Beautiful

Author : Jann Everard

“Isn’t that Giselle?” Laura nudged her husband.

“She looks amazing.” Jake flipped his sandy-colored bangs into place and unconsciously flexed the muscles at his shoulders.

Jake’s rapt attention to her teen-age nemesis across the auditorium made Laura’s face tighten. “Why would she come to the high school reunion?” she asked, petulant and narrow-eyed.

Jake put a hand on her back and steered her toward Giselle. “Let’s find out.”

Laura didn’t like his tone, but refused to show a chink in her armor. Not here. Not now.

Giselle Vanderlin had moved to the small town of Cliffwood with her exotic name, formidable intelligence and solid athleticism. In four years she’d put the high school on the map for everything from sports to science fairs.

But local beauty, Laura Spratt, had stepped up to the new competition. Soon the rivalry between the girls was well known and often flaunted in the local newspaper. Spratt captains HS volleyball team to victory. Vanderlin medals at track and field regionals. Spratt wins gold at district swim meet. Vanderlin qualifies for badminton nationals.

When Giselle beat out Laura at the prestigious university-sponsored science fair, Giselle appeared to have gained the upper hand. Far from the truth, a more private battle was playing out behind the scenes.

The battle to score Jake. Known as the town’s “catch,” both girls confused love with the desire to see his wealth and ambition permanently linked to their own.

Laura knew she had won decisively the day Jake said to her, “Giselle will never be as beautiful as you. Marry me.”

Triumphant, Laura swanned about.

Giselle left town.

Now Giselle kissed the air near Laura’s cheek. “Darling, you look… What is it, ten years?”

Giselle was radiant, stunning even, with a head-turning gorgeousness that had not been foreshadowed in her late teens. Laura stared at Giselle’s luminous skin, the youthful lines of her features.

Giselle’s eyes lingered on Jake.

Laura edged closer to her husband. “You work in New York, I hear.”

“Those old science fairs came in handy. I’m a cosmetic scientist.” Giselle named a prestigious firm. She rummaged in a snakeskin bag and held out a crystal decanter. Here’s my latest creation. It’s called Hauntingly Beautiful. Take it as a gift. I guarantee you’ll be amazed at the results in just two weeks.”

Later that evening, Laura pulled the shimmering bottle from her bag and stared in the mirror. The green vine of envy was twisting her features. She could not keep Giselle’s stunning transformation from her mind. She broke the bottle’s golden foil seal. If Giselle wanted to share her secret formula with Laura, she was not loath to turn it down.

For two weeks Laura slathered the lotion on her body. She worked its icy creaminess into her cheeks, her forehead, her neck. Within days, her skin took on a translucent beauty. Eager at the results, she smoothed the lotion into her breasts, stroked it down her thighs, massaged it into her abdomen.

At first, people said she looked different. Colleagues glanced twice as she passed. Then they stared blankly.

After two weeks, Laura felt transformed. When she brushed by Jake, he shivered.

As she waited for him, she heard the doorbell. Jake ushered Giselle into the living room.

Giselle reached out, wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck. “Did it work as promised?” she purred.

His lips moved to hers. “It’s as if she completely faded away.”

 

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Trains

Author : Jacob Lothyan

“It’s an old family story. A mystery, really. Or was. I just know it meant a lot to my dad, his dad, and so on. That’s the only reason I held on to it.

“So it goes, my great great-grandfather worked at the Santa Fe Depot in Leavenworth—first city of Kansas, you know? He worked there until the day they closed the line. He passed on shortly thereafter. He loved that station. Loved the trains. Practically ran the place before all was said and done.

“They had these storage lockers there, for packages that were sent ahead, or left behind. A few months before the line was to be shut down, my great great-grandfather took an ad out in the paper. Wanted to tell anyone who had things in the lockers they would lose their stuff if it wasn’t claimed. Well, the day came and went, the trains stopped coming, the line closed. Only one locker went unclaimed. It contained an old telegraph that was never picked up, put there for safekeeping.”

Lou laid the yellowed, tattered paper on the slick, glossy table top. Several men leaned over to examine it. It read, simply:

[BEGIN TRANSMITTAL]

dear terrance matthews [STOP]

the apparatus does not travel [STOP]

kindly [STOP]

yourself [STOP]

[END TRANSMITTAL]

The men stared wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Lou delicately retrieved the paper, causing several of the men to gasp, folded it lightly, and slid it back into its protective case.

“My great great-grandfather, he tried to find Terrance Matthews. He went to the police station and they told him he did everything he should have. They told him he could trash the telegraph. He asked if he could keep it. They said yes.

“Now, in time since, my family has done a lot of work on this letter. It became somewhat of a project. Terrance Matthews, other than the Terrance Matthews you all know, he was a great man. He pioneered much of the technology and science that led to commercial air travel. Space travel, even. He had his fingers in every single technological advance in his time. He made himself a small fortune. Funny thing is, most of his fortune was spent trying to keep his name out of the headlines. Quite successfully, too. He was more of a legend, a myth, than a man.

“We couldn’t find anything about his early life, though. Not even a birth certificate. Nothing.

“It was a mystery. Until yesterday morning. I read this.”

Lou laid his personal data device—a thin flat card—on the table. The table auto-synced with the card and quickly populated the tabletop with a task menu. “News,” said Lou. The table responded, filling its entire length and width with the days top news stories. “Previous day,” said Lou. The headlines and dates shifted. “A-1,” said Lou. One of the many stories expanded to include full text and photos. The headline read, Terrance Matthews to Attempt Time-Travel.

“It sort of all made sense after that. Gave me goose chills and everything. Hundreds of years my family has been on this. And I cracked it.

“Funny thing, though. Airplanes pretty much put the trains, the depot lockers, out of business. Figure a smart guy like that would of thought of that.

“Anyway, I want to warn him myself. Terrance Matthews, that is.”

The men standing around the table all looked sickly pale. Some of them had tears welling in their eyes. Others just looked afraid. One of them, shaking slightly in the hands, mumbled, “But he traveled this morning.”

 

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