by submission | Nov 3, 2012 | Story |
Author : Sierra Corsetti
The visor of my pressure suit starts to fog up at 11,243 feet. My pilot notices as he tweaks the gas valves that propel the balloon ever higher into the winter night, and grins knowingly.
I adjust a knob on the control panel that’s inset to my right sleeve, and return his smile, feeling the butterflies dance in my stomach as my visor clears.
Thirteen-hundred feet now.
“This your first time?”
I shake my head. “It’s just been a while.”
Nobody ever admits to being a newbie. You never realize how easy it is to lie about it until you’re in the basket of a hot air balloon, headed to heights that even airplanes don’t fly at.
We reach 23,601, and I look down over the side of the basket. If I fell from here, I’d end up as a red smear on the sidewalk of some poor kid’s neighborhood. There’s no turning back now. I have to get high enough to surf away and get far enough out of town before I open my parachute.
“Having second thoughts?” The pilot seems to be reading my mind. Of course, he’s been in the business for probably longer than I’ve been alive. Nothing will surprise him.
Instead of looking at him, I look up. My breath catches in my throat when I see the ribbons of green light, snaking across the black night, reaching their long tendrils out to me. Beckoning me to come to them and learn their ways.
“Never,” I tell the pilot.
My pressure suit hisses as it compensates for the thin air and my ears pop. I check the gauge on my oxygen tank. I’ll be fine for a few hours.
“Ten thousand feet to go,” the pilot says. I nod in acknowledgement, because what do you say to that? Wow, we’re so high. Well, no kidding. You can’t surf waves of light at ground level.
And then we stop climbing.
“Ready?”
It takes me a moment to process the question, before it sinks in that I’m here, I’m really going to do this. Then I hear myself say “Yeah, of course,” and the pilot is checking my parachute and oxygen tank and board, and helps me get my feet strapped in.
He helps me balance on the edge of the balloon, 50,000 feet above the earth, and gives me a final thumbs-up. I return it, and jump.
I’m in free-fall for about a minute. It gives me just enough time to panic and wonder if I’m going to end up as a red smear after all. I look down and see the streams of brilliant green light rushing up towards me and then my board catches and I’m flying, I’m doing it, oh heaven help me, I’m doing it.
My muscle memory from the hours I spent on the simulator kick in and I glide effortlessly across the bands of energy. But no simulator could ever replicate the sound.
There are legends of how ancestral spirits live in the lights. There are more legends of how the lights are divine beings dancing over us.
They are the past. They are the future. They speak to me and sing their songs, songs I’ll never remember and never forget.
And as suddenly as it began, it’s gone and I’m falling again, down through the black night.
Come back, I hear them call. But I cannot fall up.
by Duncan Shields | Nov 2, 2012 | Story |
Author : Duncan Shields, Staff Writer
“This is not a conspiracy theory” was tattooed across the dead boy’s back. Below that it read, “It’s a matter of public record.”
This was all in black gothic lettering above the twin towers. Below that was a multi-headed snake monster like a hydra or a kraken or something coming out of a lake of fire. Below that was a mess of shredded meat that Special Coroner Davies preferred not to look at until he had to.
The dead driver was a pale, skinny, shirtless boy with sores. God knows how he’d bypassed enough of the security systems, let alone hotwired a truck without the proper dna to start the engine.
Unfortunately for him, after all that, he’d crashed the truck. It was guesswork at this point as the Special Coroner’s team was taping off the scene, redirecting traffic and taking pictures but it looked like the boy had taken the wide off-ramp too quickly and gone smashing through the railing, off of the bridge, and onto the streets below.
He didn’t look like he had led a clean life. SC Davies was sure the test would show some sort of stim in the boy’s system and too much of it. He’d been celebrating the getaway before he’d actually gotten away. If Davies had seen crime scenes like this once, he’d seen them a dozen times.
It was late so luckily no one on the ground was hurt. The giant truck lay splayed, almost flattened, on its back. The wheels pointed around at awful reaching angles and the main shaft stood up at attention, pointing to the sky. The cab itself was scattered around like a broken lunchbox.
The worst part of this whole thing was that the truck was the only truck in the bay that had been carrying live cargo. It had a bunch of worker and sex clones in the back that had not survived the crash either.
The street was green with containment fluid and shattered glass. Their pre-activation hairless bodies lay splayed and grotesque across the roadway. Like mannequins with bones and blood, they stared as the rain came down into their open eyes.
News choppers were circling and Davies knew that someone would be getting paid lots of money for the footage.
Public spectacles like this were always hard to keep uncontaminated once the footage went out. He knew the place would be crawling in minutes. Just lucky it was night time and it would take a few minutes for people to get dressed and find their car keys.
Jameson walked up to Davies. Jameson was another old dog on the force and didn’t rush when the dead weren’t going anywhere. They got along fine.
“Look at all those bodies.” Said Jameson, nodding towards the clones, then he nodded towards the boy. “You reckon he was trying to steal them or save them?” he asked.
“I don’t know, Jameson.” Davies replied. “Maybe both.”
by submission | Nov 1, 2012 | Story |
Author : James Bambury
V pricked the side of the universe and giggled as it contracted and spun about in circles.
“Did you see that?” V poked another universe. It collapsed into a space-time singularity and V laughed again. “That one had more of a fizz. Make some more.”
“Are you going to burst them?” X asked.
“Yes.”
“What about letting one go for a little longer, just to see what would happen?”
“I am almost certain it wouldn’t be as exciting as watching them blow up.”
“Well, I want to see. Will you leave this next one alone? Just for a change?”
“I guess.”
X lit up another universe. It flared outwards in a bubble of quark-gluon plasma that was just coalescing into a soup of particles when V stabbed it. It sputtered and collapsed.
“Come on.” X said.
“You can always make more,” said V. “I’ll leave the next one alone, I promise.”
X sighed and sparked a new universe. It flared into being and floated between them.
“This one is nice.” said V.
“You stand back.” said X.
“I mean it. This one seems a bit different.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, seriously. You’ve done something interesting with the gravity in this one. There’s just the right textures of galaxies and dark matter in there. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was sentience in there. Remember the last time that happened?”
“I was drunk and lonely. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“There’s going to be a whole lot of planets in this one.”
“As if you care about any planet that’s not being engulfed in its own star.”
“I care far more about things than you think. Now, let’s grab some lunch and see how this plays out.”
“Fine.” X stood up, turned away and heard the familiar pop of a universe collapsing on itself.
“After you said all that you had to just–” X glared. V scrunched the universe into a Planck sized ball and flicked it at X.
“I just had to see your look,” said V, “but also, have you actually thought about cold death if there was sentience around to experience it? I think I’m being the nice one here.”
X waited for V to leave, then tried to remember what had happened with the gravity on the last universe. X lit a tiny universe and hid it under his seat.
He would catch up with V and start another argument. That would give the stars time to burn. Then he’d send back his main course, spill a drink, do anything to buy some more time while the universe would become pockmarked with evaporating black holes. With a little luck, X would see cold death when they got back from lunch.
by submission | Oct 31, 2012 | Story |
Author : Sierra Corsetti
“Have your cards out and ready for inspection! Anyone holding up the line will be left behind!”
Renee slipped through the throngs of people, patting a pocket here and there. She couldn’t take anything now of course, not when she was about to board one of the last transports to the new settlement. The guards may have been dimwitted, but even they would know an eight-year old girl shouldn’t be carrying money or other valuables.
Had she a parent or even an older sibling, eyebrows might not be raised. But she was alone now, and she couldn’t afford to make mistakes.
Lots of people were making mistakes these days. Renee smiled to herself every time someone got pushed out of line for having a fake ID card. It was so easy to make fake cards that worked, but adults were too stupid to figure out how.
Everyone around her was coughing, and some pressed a variety of masks to their faces. The human race had to survive, but it couldn’t anymore with the pollution and near unbearable temperatures now. That was why they were leaving.
“Liftoff is in two hours and thirteen minutes! Let’s move, people!”
The lines continued their slow shuffle, unaffected by the bellowing of the station manager. What they should have done, Renee thought to herself, was chip everyone and have them walk through a scanner. Rather than have to go through individually and swipe each card and visually match the person with the photo that came up on their file.
But, adults were too stupid to think of that. And Renee was glad for it. If she had a chip, it would have been much harder to access her file and wipe her parents’ crime records off. It might have even been impossible.
They were only taking people with clean records to the new settlement, and even the children of supposed criminals were being left behind. Renee could understand why. They wouldn’t want her, a pickpocket, on the new earth, but thanks to her cleverness, they wouldn’t know they had her. With luck, they would never find out.
She continued her weaving dance through the lines, until she found a lady with five children near the front of one line. Renee stood near them. The woman didn’t notice. The little family swiped their cards and had their identities verified. Renee handed her card to the officer and smiled sweetly when he looked at her for facial recognition.
He grunted and gave her a dismissive nod.
“Next.”
Renee walked up the ramp into the bulky grey transport. She was good at being lucky.
by submission | Oct 30, 2012 | Story |
Author : Daniel
“Mother unit, what happens to humans when they die?” The mother unit, 523 as she was usually called, stopped in her work for a second and thought about what her offspring unit had said.
“Is 43 thinking of 1001?” She asked the question lightly, hoping not to upset the young unit.
“Yes…and other things.” He responded
“Well, there are many ideas where we go when we die. If we believe in what the ancients say, we will go to a massive kingdom where we all can live happily for all eternity.” She smiled warmly at her offspring unit, who she called 43 with deepest affection. She removed a packaged meat ration from her freeze unit and flopped it into the heat sink.
“Mother unit, since 43 started school last year, 43 has been under the impression that religion no longer applies to the modern world. The teacher unit, 45-9008-72847-282, said that…”
523 sighed and tuned him out. This was only way to handle him sometimes. He just didn’t understand.. She looked around at her son, 6 feet tall, darkened skin, bald, with a strong jaw like his father unit. She smiled warmly at him. So alive and handsome he was. “Well, what does 43 think?”
He looked quizzically at her. “That’s the problem. 43 don’t know. 43 thought mother unit might. 43 has read nearly every book in the book lending unit, however there is no answer what happens to the corpses 43 sees on the ground everywhere.”
She smiled again. So curious. Like his father unit. Ah, 1001. He had been curious too. She had been content to let things do what they did. Her waste disappeared in the cycle unit. Her rations appeared in her ration unit dispenser. Her work orders appeared on the wall unit. It was all so automatic and made sense. She flipped the meat patties in the heat unit sink. “Well, there are 96 billion humans in the world. 523 guesses there would be a few humans dying quite often. 523 thinks humanity is sending people out in, oh what are they called, geo-globes? Those things are amazing. 523 heard they can maintain humans for generations and generations.” She pressed on a patty and sniffed happily at the sizzle. “As for the people here, well…523 doesn’t know. 523 figured there was a pick up unit that removed the dead. What they do with them? How can 523 know? At least 523 doesn’t have to touch them.”
43 glared at her. “43 wonders about you, 523.” His rudeness in saying her name shocked her into listening to him. “523 doesn’t question anything. Today, when 43 went to education assessment, 43 saw 5 dead bodies yet, when 43 returned, they were gone. What happened to them?”
523 groaned. “523 doesn’t know. 523 has seen mass funerals. There’s a large oven with many ashes inside it. It’s the usual custom now. It was for 523’s mother. Not a lot of space for graveyards.”
43 frowned and looked at her. “Well…perhaps that’s it then.” He turned and walked out of the door of the living unit space. 523 smiled knowingly. She knew he would never feel fully satisfied until he exhausted every avenue of research. She removed the meat patty from the heat sink and took a bite. She chewed for a minute and swallowed, savoring the sweet aroma and flavor of the patty. She smiled. She had not eaten meat since her mother unit had died 4 years ago. She had forgotten how good it was.
