by submission | Jan 7, 2007 | Story |
Author : Jinque
“How much further is it, sweetheart?” from the backseat of the car, Mitchell stroked his hand across baby Willow’s tiny head, slightly mussing her soft black hair.
“At least two hours. The traffic ahead looks even worse than it has been. Curse you for suggesting we travel on a holiday.” From the driver’s seat, Siana smiled, gently chiding her beloved husband. They’d been married just over a year, and their baby daughter, Willow, was not yet two months.
Siana navigated her way through the traffic, her eyes wide and alert. When they’d left that morning, she’d gotten a feeling in the pit of her stomach: a feeling of dread. Now, as she carefully pulled their car into the far left lane, she felt it returning.
The truck came from the opposite side of the freeway. Breaking free from the threads of cars heading east, it barreled toward the west-bound lane, and Siana saw it instantly. Her temples throbbed, and she thought to scream.
But time stopped. She dreamily rose from the driver’s side window, and peered down, seeing herself poised to howl, and jerk the wheel. The truck was too close though, and moving too quickly. Siana knew it, though she couldn’t say why. Looking in the back of the car, she saw her husband, bowed over the baby, unaware of the danger. Gliding in the window and sitting next to them, she smiled, reaching out to stroke her husband’s jaw, and the baby’s tiny nose. An itch in the back of her mind told her that time would soon resume.
Siana slipped her arms around her husband, and stretched herself over him and the baby, projecting herself as much as she could, to cover them both in a protective embrace.
I love you, Willow. I love you, Mitch.
Time resumed. The screeching impact happened within seconds. In the back seat, Mitchell felt the force of the hit, but nothing more. In his arms, Willow and her seat jolted, but she didn’t cry. It was as if something were holding them.
Later, police noted the incident as a tragedy. The Yosts’ vehicle had been hit, and sent spinning across four lanes of traffic. Thankfully, nothing else struck them, but the damage had been done. The truck’s impact crushed Siana in the front seat, leaving her body barely recognizable. Her husband and child, however, were completely untouched, despite the damage to the car.
In the last report on the tragic death of Siana Yost, the medical examiner noted this in his recordings during the autopsy:
“Patient #66607, Siana Yost, suffered physical marring and deformation during the crash. However, this was not the cause of death. Upon examination, I discovered that she seems to have suffered multiple aneurysms, as well as the loss of neurons to… God knows where. I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire career. Her brain is a mess. It’s as if everything required to make it function simply stopped, and disappeared… but how?”
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by submission | Jan 6, 2007 | Story |
Author : Kenny R. Brown
“Hello there; it’s so nice to see you!”
The door slid open noiselessly on a set of hidden tracks. The old man gestured expansively, welcoming his guest.
“I’ve been hoping that you would visit for quite a while now. I’ve hardly had any company at all since… I can’t even remember.”
The old man was moving quickly now, clearing the table, turning on lights, busying himself in the tiny kitchen.
“Now, have a seat. Would you like something to drink; anything to eat?”
The visitor declined a snack, and rather than sitting, simply elected to stay in place near the door. The old man ignored his visitor’s impropriety and took a seat himself.
“So, tell me; what have you been doing since the Others left? Have you been taking care of yourself? To tell you the truth I’ve been beginning to think there was no one else left.”
The visitor started to move into the room, but froze after a single step. The old man moved quickly to his guest, flipping open a hidden panel. He looked pensively at a display inside as he tapped on a keypad he held in his hand.
“Damn! General system fault again.”
Cain, the Immortal pressed the shutdown key on his latest android companion. His eyes began to glisten with tears.
“Goodbye, my friend.”
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by submission | Jan 5, 2007 | Story |
Author : C. Hale
After the Organ War, Jerald was called the Last Donor. An odd title for sure, considering that he was actually the first to do a lot of things.
Most importantly, he was the first to figure out that we were nothing but walking organ banks being raised by families rich enough for a clone but not quite rich enough to pay for a cryo tank.
So they kept us in spare rooms and servant quarters. We grew up cooking and cleaning for the family, and when father’s heart failed, there was no need for a waiting list.
He found us that October, living in the old part of town that hadn’t been demolished and reclaimed yet. There were maybe a hundred of us that had fallen through the cracks and been separated from our families. We only knew that the instant one of us was found, they never came back alive. Homeless and illiterate, we scrounged what we could and hid from the world. We probably wouldn’t have lived through the winter if Jerald hadn’t figured out how to turn the electricity on.
We didn’t believe it when he told us. It didn’t make sense! How could it be possible? You couldn’t just murder someone, regardless of whether it happened in a hospital. Most of us just wanted to go back home. And then, Jerald showed us the films.
Eight years later, there were seventeen million of us, most still living with families and waiting for the signal.
The signal came on the tenth anniversary of Jerald’s discovery of the truth, and the world was not prepared. The Organ War lasted two years, five months and one day, and Jerald himself negotiated the terms of surrender from Parliament: No more clones. No more murder. Full citizenship for those of us that had survived the war.
Two years later, Jerald died on the waiting list for a lung transplant.
He died with a smile on his face.
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by submission | Jan 4, 2007 | Story |
Author : Jeff Deignan
As I floated, I thought to myself, “Poems end this way.â€
It was easy enough, in the beginning. People expected thieves to use lasers, the sonic tech, or even small atomics for holdups, and security would check for that sort of thing. Security would not, however, expect a black powder pistol in a carry-on bag or a saber hidden in some ultra-thin crutches. Always use what no one expects, the old man had told me. Of course, I didn’t tell anyone the weapon wasn’t a laser, just made sure that the officers guarding the hold knew it was a weapon.
They let me in without too much trouble; where was I going to go, really? The escape pods had trackers, the ship itself was likely being recorded five ways to Sunday, and out in deep space who would catch you?
Ah, but Leila was waiting for me, and that they could not know. Saber at a man’s throat and pistol in another’s face, I smiled. “You two,†indicating the remaining guards, “get those into the airlock, and be quick about it.â€
“What is this,†a man said as he hauled one of the two-tonne containers through the lock, “amateur piracy?†Most thieves, pirates, and otherwise operated in groups, allowing for massive takeovers and battles. I was alone, but for Leila, and she always came through.
I have to admit I did not expect the explosive decompression, but had been prepared for it. The Scyllic membrane that I wore instead of a flimsy helmet (a helmet which at that point would have shattered and left me sans atmosphere) easily compensated for the pressure, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t cause a migraine. Granted, the pain could have come from the bomb that had gone off, the shrapnel, or from flying out of the now quite open airlock at a speed I still don’t want to contemplate. Regardless, I floated and thought about poetry as I saw the carnage.
Leila had been hit, badly- my ship, my good and beautiful ship being slaughtered in front of my eyes by patrol craft. Somehow they’d gotten past the cloaks and gimmicks and were killing her straight off.
All I could do was scream, and arm the packages I’d left onboard.
They weren’t the only ones with explosives, curse their souls.
Ah, Leila. It’s been hours since then, and the tethers caught me as planned. I think I’ll walk your corridors one last time, dear, before I fade. You were a good ship, and the best pilot even before we jacked you into the ship.
Well, love, I guess we walked into legend on this one. They’ll never find these ships at the rate we’re going, not unless they expand the territories twenty systems in the next year.
Good night, dear. Could you sing that one again? Yes, Alfred Noyes’ poem, that’s the one. “And he lay in his blood in the highway, with a bunch of lace at this throat.â€
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by J.R. Blackwell | Jan 3, 2007 | Story |
Author : J.R.Blackwell, Staff Writer
“I just can’t believe they dumped me!” Relex squealed into the Audio Tube.
“Relex, Silkstring, Bloodpuff, you have to calm down.” Relex mothers voice chimed evenly through the Audio Tube. “It’s been three sun cycles now, and you need to start the process of healing, move on, maybe try to find another mating group.”
“Mom, I’m forty three seasons old, I don’t have a job because I spent all my time caring for my Hive, and now I’m living in a stick cell in a public Hive with a bunch of weirdoes.”
“I’m sure it’s not all that bad.”
Relex waved two of her limbs in the air. “One of them is missing half his eyes!”
“Darling, this is just a transition period. You weren’t really happy with your Hive anyway.”
It was true, though Relex hated to admit it; her old Hive had worked her hard. Relex had spent hours cleaning the Queens chamber, removing sterile or rotten eggs, and spinning the fine clear string out of her abdomen that allowed her to make repairs to their home. The rest of her seven partners worked outside the Hive to support the Queen and each other.
The Queen of their Hive lay in her room, eating and laying eggs. Relex would sort through the eggs, looking for fertilized eggs. The broken and dysfunctional eggs Relex would discard, crushing them to make a fine paste that would feed the great tree that held the Hive in it’s branches. It was hard work, but raising young with the Queen was exciting, if exhausting.
Then She came.
Her name was Astrill, and she was a youth from the lower branches of their tree. Her abdomen was full of bright glistening fluid, healthy and bursting with youth. Relex’s abdomen was flat and her fluid dull, as she was constantly emptying it to repair the house. Astrill’s hundred eyes shone like the color of the sky at sunset, and her eight legs were youthful and strong. Relex had lost ten of her eyes while defending the Hive from an attack of the Bris bugs, losing eyes to their stingers. Next to Astrill, Relex felt like a broken egg.
Astrill came home with Elex and Lillx from the hunt. She needed a place to stay for a while, they said, until she found a Hive. Relex had always supported the idea of community, but actually letting Astrill into their home was like a breach, like a Bris bug has accidentally crawled inside their Hive. After a few sun cycles, everyone but Relex was infatuated with Astrill.
Then the Queen told Relex that she had to leave. There was only eight to a mating, and the Queen said that Astrill was more suited to their youthful Hive. Relex felt like a Bris bug had stung her in the stomach. She left, going to a public Hive where unattached singletons went to try to find mates. She talked with her mother on the Audio Tube daily, complaining about her old Hive. Mother was starting to become frustrated.
“Relex, you’ve got to pull your strings together! So, you got dumped by your mates, that’s awful, but you’ve got to move on!”
Relex slumped in a corner of her cell. “Are you mad at me?”
“Oh, my little egg, I just want all of my young to be successful. I love you, but if you can’t pick yourself up and move on, than no one can help you.”
There was a scratch on the Hive wall. Relex sighed. “Gotta go Mom, I’ve got a visitor, probably some creep starting a Hive.”
Relex went to answer the door. Elex stood outside, his abdomen twitching. “Hey Relex, how are you doing?”
“What do you want Elex? Did you come to tell me how unattractive I am? Well, thanks, but I don’t want to hear it.”
“No Relex, I came on behalf of everyone back at the Hive. I, we, want to apologize.”
“Absolve yourself of guilt? I won’t be giving you the satisfaction, go back home to your new tramp.”
Elex scratched his forelimbs together. “Well, the thing is Relex, she’s gone.”
Relex’s antennae snapped to attention. “Left you, has she? Good for her.”
“Actually, we had to throw her out. We just, we had no idea how much you did around the Hive. After you were gone, Astrill wouldn’t lift a limb to help with the eggs, the Hive repair, anything. Things got to be a mess, Lillix stayed at the hive all the time, which she hated, but then we weren’t bringing in enough food and the Queen stopped producing eggs. It was terrible, and Astrill wouldn’t help. We made a mistake.”
Relex felt a pang of sympathy. To imagine the Queen in filth made her cringe. “The Queen really isn’t producing eggs?”
“We need you Relex. We need you to clean for us, to repair the Hive.”
“So basically, you just want me back to clean.”
“No, that’s not it at all.”
“Elex, take a message back to the Hive. I’m not coming back. Not ever. I’m going to start my own Hive.”
“You can’t, that’s crazy, you’re too old!”
“You know what, that is the last I want to hear about that. I’ve heard they are looking for elders on the colony ships, I think I’ll sign up, get as far away from here and you and the others as I can, and I will start my own Hive, and maybe there I’ll even be Queen.” Relex turned around and aimed her abdomen at the door, sending a spray out of her back, sealing the door closed. In your face Hive, she thought, I’m headed for the stars.
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by submission | Jan 2, 2007 | Story |
Author : Dustin Neal
I had just rested my head on Billy’s shoulder when he asked me if I “believed.” Looking up into the cold, starlit sky, I didn’t stumble long with my response. “Yeah, Billy, I believe in God.” His eyes grew fierce as he pushed my head off of his warm, flannel shoulder. “I’m not talking about God, Emily! I’m talking about aliens and spaceships; life outside of Earth. Do you believe?” He had such a huge interest in what I cared so little for. “Why would aliens come to Lost City, Oklahoma, anyway?” I smiled and then whispered in his ear. He knew I wouldn’t respond to the question in the manner he wanted.
Billy has been so paranoid after the three “sightings” this past month, and tonight he seemed to be at his worrisome peek. After a moment of scratching his head, he stood up and lit a cigarette. With my eyes tracing his every move, every inhaled and exhaled breath, I walked toward him, smiled, kissed him on the lips, and wrapped my alien arms around his waist.
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