Unexpected Consequences

by | Jun 7, 2007 | Story

Author : Patricia Stewart, featured writer

Roy O’Donnell was working his way down the pre-launch checklist when I decided to make sure the cargo was secure. Normally, we only haul equipment and supplies back and forth between the Vinogradov mining facility on Mars and the supply station on Phobos. But when I entered the cargo hold I saw an android sitting in a steel cage. I turned toward the cockpit and yelled, “Roy, What’s with the android?”

“Beats me,” Roy replied. “It must be a piece of crap. That’s the only reason they go to Phobos.”

It looked functional to me, so I’d thought I’d ask. “What’s up bud? You OK?”

“I am unsure, sir,” it said. “I remember being caught in a plasma arc. It may have affected my positronic brain. When I was rebooted, I failed the ASAT .” (Asimov Safety Assessment Test)

“Oh boy, that’s not good. If that arc messed up the three laws, they’ll have to destroy you. I hope things work out.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I finished checking the cargo, and returned to the cockpit. Roy had completed the pre-flight, and we were cleared to launch. About fifteen minutes into the flight we had a gyrocompass failure, and we lost attitude control. The last thing I remembered was plunging into the Valles Marineris as Roy was trying to regain our angular position.

When I came to, I was lying on the ground, wearing my survival suit, and looking up at the face of that android we were hauling. “What happened? Where’s Roy? Damn, my leg is killing me.”

My short-range radio picked up the android’s transmission, “The ship has crashed, sir. Mister O’Donnell is dead. Your right femur is fractured. I was able to set it before I put you in your survival suit. The long range radio is not functioning. We have no way to contact the mining facility, or Phobos station. I am afraid we are on our own.”

“Well, my friend, if they can’t find me in 4 hours, I’ll run out of oxygen. And that seems pretty unlikely since we’re trapped at the bottom of this canyon.”

“Do not despair, sir. I have performed some calculations, and I believe that I can carry you to the mining facility in approximately seven hours.”

“But I only have four hours of oxygen.”

“I am aware of that, sir, but we also have Mister O’Donnell’s oxygen supply. He no longer requires it. Come, I will help you onto my back.”

I could not believe the speed that android could move, regardless of Mars’ lower gravity. He climbed out of the valley, scrambled over rough terrain, and ran like a gazelle over the plains. My leg throbbed like hell, and I blacked out a few times, but somehow that android managed to keep me on its back. I was down to thirty minutes of oxygen when we entered the airlock of the mining facility.

When I woke up in the recovery room, the android was standing vigil by the bed. “Thanks, man,” I said earnestly. “I’ll never forget this. You saved my life. Well, I guess this sounds awful, but I should also be thankful that Roy died in the crash. Without his oxygen, I would have died for sure.”

“Oh, Mister O’Donnell didn’t die in the crash, sir. I broke his neck. He should not have called me a piece of crap.”

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Treasure

by | Jun 6, 2007 | Story

Author : Sarah Klein

As soon as the hovercar came to a stop, they opened their doors and jumped out as fast as they could. Nicole strode toward the object, her eyes bright with joy. Drew dusted off his pants and approached more slowly, squinting in the hot sun. They’d been searching over the landscape for miles and miles for something – Drew didn’t know what. There wasn’t much life left since the wars, and they’d mostly been looking at miles of sand, but a large green patch had miraculously appeared.

“What is it?” he asked, cocking his head and frowning quizzically.

“A tree,” said Nicole, as she placed her hand carefully on the bark. “This is a pretty big one. Most of the ones left are small. I’m surprised there’s one all by itself out here.” She wiped sweat from her brow with her other hand.

“What happened to them?” Drew asked tentatively. She stared at the tree a long time before answering.

“People,” she muttered, as she shut her eyes and began to tremble.

“Hey, hey, wait,” said Drew, with a hint of concern in his voice. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”

She opened her eyes slowly and turned her intense gaze in his direction. “Do you know what a forest is?” she asked. He shook his head. “Of course not,” she said, sighing. She placed her hand gently on his and directed it towards one part and then another of the tree.

“This is a branch,” she said patiently, dragging his hand to the end of it. “See how others come off of it?” Drew nodded. “And these are leaves. They’re green now, see? In the autumn they change color – red, yellow, orange…” She trailed off, lost in her thoughts.

Drew started to laugh, but stopped himself when he saw her face. A single tear slid from the corner of her eye.

“They do,” she said quietly. “They really do.”

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Exile on Bay Street

by | Jun 5, 2007 | Story

Author : Terri Monture

The three days leading up to the executions proceeded with great fanfare and celebration; by dusk on the third day, with the sun setting in purple ultraviolet through the polluted sky the people were in a state of frenzied orgiastic ecstasy. Drums were beaten, scrap metal pieces pounded together and the smell of cooking rat flesh filled the darkening air.

The captives were brought to the plaza in the shadow of the decaying bank towers. Tied to decrepit office chairs, their faces were bloodied with the traces of the ritual beatings. There were three old men and one terrified woman, her lips moving in prayer. “Slim pickings this time,” Draper mused to Marla, who was perched on the rim of an old crumbling statue. “They must be running out of the obvious ones.”

Marla spat and picked at her teeth with a filed-down rat bone. “Bout time,” she sneered. “Damn capitalists anyway.” She looked up into the radioactive sky. “Maybe it’ll rain. That would be nice.”

Draper shivered as the captives were displayed to the crowd, now screaming for their blood. “I think I’m getting sick again,” he said, feeling his guts cramp. The dysentery came in cycles for him. Some days were better than others, but it never went away. There was hardly any water left with the levels of the lake falling so drastically. He scanned the sky anxiously. Rain would make a difference; at least they had some filtering equipment.

Marla glanced at him. “I’ll go see if I can scavenge some penicillin,’ she offered. “There’s those pharmacies in Scarborough guarded by the Smiling Buddha guys, I know some of them.”

He shrugged, watching the executioners raise their truncheons and the crunch of skulls shattering. “That last batch was bad,” he said. “No point. Maybe if I don’t eat it will go away.” He wondered how long it would be before he had to crawl into the lobby of a looted office tower and shiver while every bit of fluid drained out of his body.

Marla said something but her words were lost beneath the howling of the crowd and the ecstatic outpouring of hate as the corpses were torn apart and bloody limbs displayed for them. Draper felt the first wave of heat as the fever started.

The howling of the mob reached a frenzied crescendo and people racing past him buffeted Draper. “Sorry,” he muttered, and then louder, feverish and sweating. “I’m sorry, I had to make a living…”

Marla reached down and steadied him with a firm grip on his shoulder. “Stop it,” she hissed. “No one needs to know what you did before the Collapse.” Several faces turned to look at him as he swayed precariously. “He’s cool,” she yelled. “It’s the dysentery.”

Draper saw only a blurred outline as a voice above him said, “You sure? He looks like a banker to me…” and he slipped out of Marla’s grasp.

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Warp Vortex

by | Jun 4, 2007 | Story

Author : Patricia Stewart, featured writer

Professor Murphy carefully reviewed the checklist of the Warp Vortex Generator. In a few minutes, it would be used in an attempt to divert a three kilometer asteroid from striking the Pacific Basin. This impact wasn’t going to be a “civilization destroyer,” but it was estimated that it would kill close to one billion people if it couldn’t be diverted.

The asteroid had been detected six months earlier by the Shoemaker Spacewatch Observatory in Arizona. A few days after its orbit was calculated, scientists from around the world gathered to determine the best method to alter its current path, but no satisfactory solution could be found. The asteroid wasn’t detected early enough to make any significant change to its orbit with the existing technology. That’s when Professor Murphy suggested using his experimental Warp Vortex. The prototype hadn’t actually been tested, but these were desperate times and they required desperate measures.

Murphy’s Warp Vortex had originally been proposed for space vessels. In theory, the generator would distort space-time in such a way that it would simulate a very large gravity well immediately in front of the ship. The ship would subsequently “fall” toward the vortex. However, since the generator was mounted to the ship, the Vortex would also advance. As a consequence, the ship would continue to fall faster and faster as it tried to drop into the ever advancing simulated gravity well. Later, when the Vortex was collapsed, the ship would maintain its forward velocity. Murphy’s current idea was to construct a massive Warp Vortex Generator on the surface of the Moon, at the Armstrong Lunar Base on the Kant Plateau. Then, as the asteroid shot past the Moon toward the Earth, he would generate a 200,000 kilometer wide space-time distortion that would cause the asteroid to whip around the centerline of the newly formed gravity well. When the Vortex was collapsed 30 seconds later, the asteroid would continue harmlessly into space.

“We’re ready, professor,” said an astrotechnician. “The asteroid will be in position in 10 seconds.” Ten seconds later, the computer initiated the Warp Vortex. The lunar base shook violently. Everybody was being tossed around, the lights flickered, and most of the bench-top equipment vibrated off the tables. The module walls groaned in protest, but remained air tight. After 30 seconds, the computer shut down the generator.

“Damn,” announced Murphy, “I didn’t expect there to be a moonquake. It’s lucky we weren’t killed. What’s the trajectory of the asteroid?”

“Tracking stations report that the asteroid is heading out of the ecliptic. It’s going to miss the Earth!” The lunar base erupted into spontaneous cheering and self-congratulatory hugs and handshakes. It wasn’t until one of the engineers, who wanted to look at the asteroid through the viewdome, realized that they had a serious problem. “Professor,” she yelled. “You need to look at this. The Earth is getting larger.”

“What?” The professor, and most of the staff, crammed into the viewdome, or looked out the bulbous wall ports. Sure enough, the Earth was twice its normal size, and growing larger. The professor staggered backward, and collapsed onto a lab stool. He steadied himself on a nearby table, as he brought his trembling left hand to his forehead. “Oops.”

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Birth Day

by | Jun 3, 2007 | Story

Author : Joyce Weber

I want to love them. Truly I do. But they keep shoving and pushing, wrangling around inside me till I want to rip my belly open and dump them out.

There is no peace with them crowding my body till they almost feel like they will ooze out the very pores of my skin.

“They are the future” I remind myself and wonder if any good can come of a future born in such tremulousness. Are they never still? Never quiet?

I long for how it once was. When my body was my own. When my brain was free of worrying about them. Do they have everything they need to grow strong? Am I doing all that I must do to ensure their optimal survival?

I shouldn’t doubt myself. I nourish them; I keep myself pure that they are untainted. All for them. Everything for them. My precious ones, my darlings, my bane, my torture.

I want them gone. I know it is an evil thing to contemplate. To just cast them away and forsake them. They will die without me. But I am so tired. I have been carrying them so very long. They can not survive with out me, not yet. I must be strong.

I must fulfill my duty to these, oh so treasured, lives, these demons that torment me with their movements and noise. Ever growing. Ever expanding. I feel like I will surely burst if I can’t get them out of me soon.

Why did there have to be so many of them? They keep growing. It is beyond what one such as I should have to bear. Surely my body was not designed for such a load. What if I perish from the weight of them? Wouldn’t it be better to cast some out so that the others could live?

I am not capable of such a decision. I will bare them, and deliver them into the life that awaits them or we shall all cease to exist together.

Darkness. Endless starless nights with no breath to make a sound. How wonderful that sounds. How like perfection. I will simply let us all slip into that forever sleep.

Wait! Something is changing, heavy, I feel so heavy. Like I am being crushed to earth with the massive weight of them. I am torn open and they pour out of me in a massive flood, tumbling over themselves to abandon me. Me, who tended their every need. Me, who they forsake with out a backwards glance.

Go! Go all of you! Run out to this new world. This new life. I will carry you across space no more. I am rid of you. Rid of your pushing and shoving and noise. I am free of you.

I feel so liberated, so light. I could fly without engines. I feel so. . . so empty.

Come back. Let me hold you again. I need you. I have no purpose without you. I am so lonely.

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