by J.R. Blackwell | Dec 2, 2005 | Story
I’m sore and smiling from last nights’ athletics. My lover is still sleeping, his blue-green head resting on my pale pink chest. There are tiny raised welts on my hip and thigh where he bit me, and light red scratch lines on my back when, just a few hours ago, he was urgently pulling me closer, merging sex and devotion, hungry and hard.
My undergarments shimmer across the room, artfully hung on the lacquered box of drugs he smuggled from his homeworld. I run my fingers along a tentacle that slopes from his head to curl around my breast. He sighes and squeezes my ribs.
Sex isn’t just about what parts can go into what hole, or physical pleasure or reproduction. Sex is about forgiveness, sex is about communication, and mostly, sex is about chemistry, the ph balance of mind and body. We could be acid to one another, but I can protect him, and we can lay here, sentient to sentient. He loves me as I will never understand.
I turn towards him and kiss his smooth, dry lips, inhaling the scent of sand and cinnamon. My lover opens his crimson eyes and trails amber nails softly against my cheek.
by B. York | Nov 14, 2005 | Story |
Everything was wrong. Jasey hadn’t planned this heist to go this way. Yet, here he was with a shaking hand trembling before a live audience of hostages at the bank. Sweat reigned supreme on his brow and he dared not wipe it to acknowledge its existence. His grey eyes slipped left and right frantically.
Sector Police had shown up not an hour ago and still hadn’t made a move. This fact alone kept Jasey guessing and becoming more progressively nervous. No cops were outside scanning the doorways, but the lights were still flashing. Nothing here was right at all.
What seventeen year-old Jasey didn’t know was what the cops weren’t telling anyone. He knew the reports about residue from bullets having a high risk of causing cancer. Jasey also knew the only way to prevent it from affecting him was to take his gun into his local gun shop to be cleaned by a professional chemist on the designated dates shown on the tele-screens. The humper that Jasey didn’t know was that cordite did not cause cancer He took his gun to be cleaned monthly, but there were no special chemists.
Still, he was there shaking like a drug fiend begging for his next fix with all the intention in the world to find a way out of this mess. The people sat scared, huddling themselves in fear that his weapon would go off and kill one of them. Men, women, and children were all stuffed into a corner to wait out this harrowing experience.
It was then that the revolving doors made a whoosh and a man in a grey overcoat walked in while lighting up a cigarette. His aged features contrasted his nonchalant entrance with the sense that this man had a purpose. Jasey swung the gun towards him, then continued to switch it back and forth between the victims and the new arrival.
“Who… who the fuck are you!?†Jasey exclaimed while shifting the weapon in his sweating palm.
“Hm?†The man took a drag before pulling the stick from his mouth and dipping into his pocket for a badge. “Detective Harris, Lunar PD.†The detective let the words hang between them as he took another drag. He seemed as careless as a kid in the park.
“Why are you in here!? Can’t you see I’ll kill someone? Where’s my space-lift out of here!?†The boy bit his lip. He knew something had gone wrong.
Detective Harris shifted in his step and walked over to one of the hostages, then picked her up off her feet. “You won’t kill anyone, Jasey. Feel free to put the gun down and walk out. The police are waiting for you.â€
The boy’s fury was offset by his immense confusion at the situation. He directed the gun towards the detective as more hostages began to stand and move towards the door. The detective turned back to Jasey, realizing that loaded weapon was pointed at him. “C’mon now, Jasey. Look at yourself. You’re nervous. You aren’t sure whether this is the best course of action or not. You won’t fire that gun because you can’t.â€
“What?†The shock in Jasey’s voice was equal to the confidence with which the detective had declared his inability to fire the gun.
“You took your gun in to get cleaned, right? Boy, that gun won’t fire without a sure hand, and I sure as the light off this Earth can see you ain’t sure about any of this.†Harris has just about evacuated all the hostages. Jasey was beginning to doubt himself even more.
He pointed the gun at a wall and tried to pull the trigger but as Harris had predicted, it wouldn’t budge. Jasey tried and tried but it simply wouldn’t fire. Detective Harris snatched the gun from his hand and sighed. “Outside, before you make yourself look any dumber, boy. No need to put your hands up, either.â€
by Jared Axelrod | Sep 2, 2005 | Story
The life of every Venusian Cowgirl is circular. Moxie was told this repeatedly when she signed up. To drive the point home, a silk-screened sampler saying as much was set on the opposite wall of the entrance portal to her new apartment. Moxie put down the boxes of clothes she was carrying, hooked her thumbs into the loops of her jeans, and stared at the imitation cross-stitch. It entranced her so much that she didn’t even notice her brother coming in until he started yelling.
“Goddamn! It is hot out there!” Apple said. He set down the bureau he was carrying and collapsed next to it all in one liquid motion. Moxie brought him a globe of water, closing the door with a swing of her hip as she walked past. Apple pulled the metal ring from the bottom of the globe, then put it to his forehead. The globe’s chemical reaction cooled the water it contained and Apple’s face simultaneously. “You’re sure I can’t change your mind?”
Moxie scooted down on the floor next to him. “Don’t tell me you only offered to help me move to Venus so you could talk me out of it. You’re thick, but you’re not that thick.” She pulled the ring on her own globe, drinking the content before it had adequately chilled.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“I can, too.”
“So this is what you want, huh?” Apple motioned around the apartment with his half-empty water globe. “A tiny apartment in a ranch complex, taking care of mutant cattle.”
“They’re not mutants, they’re genetically engineered. Six legs are better for the terrain here.”
“Any cow with six legs is a mutant, I don’t care what you say.”
“What about the pigs?”
“I have never been against science that give us more bacon.” Apple stood up and ambled to one of the apartment’s round windows. “This is what you want. It’s very…”
“What?”
He turned to face her. “Yellow. Very yellow. And hot. And…it’s just so damn far away, Moxie! I mean, you wanna be a cowgirl in a hot place, fine. You can go to Buenos Aries, or Madrid or some place else close. Not here. Why do you have to move here?”
“It has to be here, Apple.” Moxie leaned against the circular doorway, regarding her brother from across the room. She absentmindedly rubbed her water globe against her vest, leaving dark tracks on the light tan suede. “I can’t be on Earth anymore than I can be a teacher.”
“Why can’t you be a teacher anymore? You were good! Those kids on Earth still need you.”
“No, Apple, they don’t.” She walked over to him, and turned him back toward the window. “Did you see this control panel? You can adjust how much heat and light comes in through the window. Check this out. This only half up, but feel that sun!”
“Moxie…,” Apple began, but she wouldn’t let him.
“Do you remember Kandie? Smallish girl? Always had ridiculous hair? I know I’ve talked about her.” Moxie wasn’t looking at her brother, but at the vast expanse of Venus that lay outside the window. “I had the whole class draw pictures of their families. She showed me hers, and pointed out her mother. Her mother’s face was all red. I asked her why, and you know what she said? Because her mother was shot in the face. That’s why. It’s getting worse. Every day more of Earth becomes more of a battlefield, and you can’t escape it. Not anywhere on the planet.”
“So you come here…” Apple reached out to Moxie’s shoulder, surprised at the intense warmth the suede kept.
“Where’s there’s not a soul but us Venusian Cowgirls.” Moxie turned to him, and gave a weak smile. “I can do things here, Apple. If a cow gets sick, I can fix it. I can save it. I can’t do any of that on Earth. This is what I want. This is what I need, to get my strength back.”
“And then you’ll come back.”
“And then I’ll come back.” Moxie didn’t want to say it, but she knew it was true. “You know what they say about the life of a Venusian Cowgirl.”
