《Tink's Shorts》


 Comming Home

    The Jump drive spooled up, the drum of the wormhole being forced open resounded through the oxygen filled ship.  The solar sails were retracted, as they would tear from the forces inside the wormhole.


    Jody Brighton sat at the controls on the bridge, the fourty meter long ship was cramped with all the machines to keep a solar sailer like this one functioning, as well as keep her six passengers in cryogenic sleep.


    This was the last jump of the two month run, the jump drive required 12 hours to charge with the solar sails fully extended, and then could only move the ship 120 light years.  Some of the newer ships could go farther, but Jody was pleased with his little ship, and the fact that he never had to buy fuel for her.


    The last familiar beat of the drum hit the hull, and the bow camera appeared to distort as the wormhole pulled the ship to its final coordinates.  This was the first jump in two months the drive didn''t use all of its stored power.  As the wormhole broke apart, a loud clap resonated throughout the ship, Jody grabbed the controls to extend the mizzen masts, then the main masts, and finally the hexagonal collectors that formed the sails for all twelve masts.


    The passenger''s destination was in sight, the Aurora Platform.  A not-so-secret, secret place for the trillionaires to hide for a couple of years at a time.  This one just happened to bring along his family, and each of their bodyguards, all of whom were asleep in their pods.


    "Solar Destiny; you have entered restricted flight zone: alpha-Papa-niner-niner- four-six.  State your business."


    "Oh, lovely way to greet guests." Jody said into the mic, it was a pass phrase the family had given him to say upon arrival.


    "Proceed to docking Spar Alpha, retract masts and operate on battery only once within ten kilometers of the station.  Welcome to Aurora Platform."  The controller replied back.


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    He pulled Destiny to her location for docking, and woke the family once he was within the five kilometer ring.  His docking port was on the same side of the station as the sun, so even with the sails retracted, he was still getting residual power accumulating.


    The docking tug exited the station, and he turned off his inertial dampners, so the small ship could manuver him into position, the family in the back started making noise as they readied for departure.


    The magnetic clamp secured the ship to the spar, and the side door opened, the family left.  Jody finished his shut down procedure and went to his own bedroom to sleep.


    An hour later, he was awakened by the sound of the wormhole drums resounding through his ship, but these weren''t comming from his own ship, but rather they were incoming ships.  He ran to his bridge, deep within its central systems, and started firing up the jump drive that he had just used, as well as the secondary that had a sticky note attached to it that said ''use only if we gonna die''


    He hit the jump switch, only then realizing he had forgotten to detach from the station.


    The drum beats of his two powered up jump drives resounded through the ship as the first volley of metal slugs bounced off the heavy armor of the station, the familiar last beat was heard, and almost immediately the clap of the collapsing wormhole.


    He looked at his location beacon, and realized he had only traveled fifty light years.  But it was more than enough to throw the pirates off of him for a while.  He stood up, and started walking back to his room, when he heard a loud pop, and then he felt the oxygen leave his lungs.  Someone had disconnected his ship from the station without closing the exit hatch.  Just as Jody realized this, he died.


    A/n:  that''s all for this story.  Have fun with the setting.

 Normalocity

    The start of another work day.


    another droning, dull, day at a place where nobody gives a crap if you stay, go, smoke, or cut up. as long as you are safe about it, and the work gets done, nobody gives a crap.


    its six AM, and eighteen degrees outside; and I still rode my bike to work. namely because its my only running vehicle right now. I blew the engine in my pickup as it was starting to get cold. I put the kickstand down as the boss walks over to me.


    "Hey!" he calls out.


    "Good morning." I say as I lay my gloves on the fuel tank to get my helmet off.


    "You have your ID handy?" he asks.


    "Yeah," I reach into my pocket and pass it to him, "What''s up?"


    "You arn''t working out, we''re letting you go. enjoy the solstice." he says and walks away with my ID in his hand. no more comments, or no more of a reason. that is all it was. I put my gear back on, and leave; not leaving in a rush, revving the engine, or even doing stupid things to express my frustration. I simply just left, as though it was just another normal day, and I had something I needed to do.


    "Well, Crap." I said to no one else, barely able to hear my own voice inside the helmet, my scarf preventing the frigid air from wafting up onto my face, and causing frost-nip; however because of this, I was having to lift my visor at every stop light to prevent ice crystals from forming on the inside.


    I rode the twenty minutes back home, never doing anything that could be considered reckless, even though I was on a 94 horsepower machine that could accelerate to triple digits quicker than my reaction time could control, I stripped all my gear off when I got inside. instead of sulking, or even punching the walls, which I desperately wanted to do, I began cleaning up.


    seven pizza boxes, twenty six soda bottles, and a couple dozen more trips to the dumpster, and that was just the living room. at least there wasn''t any food in those boxes.


    "I need a walk." I distinctly remember saying aloud. With the same coat I wore earlier, back on, I went for a walk. a walk that changed my life.


    I could call it a spiritual event, I could call it an epiphany, I could even call it an awaking. but in truth, it was nothing such as grand as any form of self-discovery. no, it changed my life, because I walked for twelve miles that day. ending up at a nature center, walking some more.


    eventually I stopped somewhere along the trails back there. I don''t remember where, just that it was in the middle of a rail-less spruce bridge completely made of standard construction lumber. with a random stick in my hand that I had picked up on my first loop of the center, I simply stated a true and heartfelt wish.


    "I wish I had a talent outlandish, and outrageous enough that I didn''t have to deal with this crap." a feeling welled up inside me, and an orange miasma, almost neon, appearing poisonous, seeped out of the stick in my hand.


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    "you will regret those words." I remembered my mom''s voice from a past memory, when I said something; not so nice, to her. I remember falling on the bridge, like solidly, no way to roll off. and then waking up in a hospital. looking at possibly the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.


    "well, hello there." she says to me. "Do you know the Date?" she asks promptly.


    "December eighteenth, two-thousand twenty." I answer confidently. I must have said something wrong, because all color left her face, and she said something strange.


    "Shit. off all the days I switch shifts, and now I have to do this." she shakes her head, and begins to rapid-fire questions about current government leaders, military ranks, even a Rorschach test. after about two hours, I finally get her to answer the same question I have been asking since she started this, her color getting more and more pale as time went on. "you were found passed out two weeks ago on someone''s private land. you had only two things in your possession other than the strange clothes you were wearing. this strange thing with glass all over it;" she moved her hands as though someone would who had never seen a cell phone. "and your staff."


    "you mean the stick I had?" I asked.


    "Sir, this is no mere ''stick'', I understand you may like joking around, but I will not accept any jokes regarding weapons of any kind." she turned serious quickly, and pulled a beautifully polished wooden staff from behind one of the monitors keeping an eye on my vitals. "This is a staff of an enchanter, and one of substantial rank. I have never seen one of these in person, but I recognize the patterns the history books describe. all of these were thought to have been destroyed. and the fact that every time one of our security guards attempts to put this in the armory, it beats the crap out of the guard as soon as they cross the threshold with it; comes back into this room, and falls flat on the floor.


    "I have no idea of what you are talking about." I answer honestly.


    "Sir, I have no idea who this ''Donald Trump'' is; or what Microsoft is, what a ''Google'' is," the way she said Google, made it sound like she added two more Os to it. "or why there is a bitten apple engraving in your pocket. and then what is the deal with using theVandal Goddess to give a date; it just sounds absurd." she set the polished staff back against the wall, and looked at me for a few seconds. "you are either attempting to pull a fast one over on me; or you are an Unsummoned Traveler. I pity you if either are true." she shakes her way to the door and stops just before it opens.


    "By the way, my name is Michelle, what''s yours?"


    "Daniel Huddy." I answer promptly and without any hesitation, and before I can say more, or make any further comments, she bolts out the door to the room.


    "what the hell is this place?" I ask aloud.

 Bright

    This is a personal review of the movie ''Bright'', starring Will Smith(Daryl Wade), Joel Edgerton(Nick Jakoby), and Lucy Fry(Tikka). With most of the critics whining about how it doesnt do justice to two different genres (buddy-cop/fantasy) I felt I should at least type out what I thought of it; for no other reason than: I belive they missed the point of the film, and are focusing too much on trying to tell the masses that it is something it isnt.


    so, I am going to try and explain my sentiments without spoliers, but they may occour.


    You have been warned.


    Bright is a modern fantasy setting, where the entirety of the story takes place over a single night in Los Angeles, specifically in Alemeda. graffiti on the walls of buildings during the oppening credits give some story and setting plotlines, such as gang emblems for a group called ''FogTeeth'' which shortly becomes a player in the events of the story. the movie has three intertwining plot lines that span the movie, the racial tension between Orcs and the other observed races; Ward getting shot in the opening scenes; and the hunt/protection of a magical weapon.


    the basic premise is that two-thousand years ago, a war, was faught against a powerful elf simply refered to as "The Dark Lord" by ''the army of nine races''. a group refered to as The Inferni, similar to modern conceptions of the illuminati, is attempting to resurect him, when one member escapes and defects to their rival organisation simply called the Shield of Light. during a failed assasination attempt on this person, the Wand the assasin had in their possession is captured. when the two LAPD Officers arrive on the scene, they capture the girl who now possesses it, and thats when the heavy stuff of the movie begins.


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    the main races involved in the story are the Orcs, Humans, and Elves. however Centaurs, fairies, a changeling and a Dragon are also seen in various parts of the movie as well as in the background. as the movie begins, we see a striking resemblance to the racial tensions of today, and we can easily tell that each race is fulfiling racial sterieotypes of today''s societies, and quickly create a naritive of their own. some of the steriotypes are even hinted at, or blatantly stated in the graffiti throughout the movie, and can give their own nerritive as to what is going on during the time.


    I saw the movie as a good naritive as to things that are and have been happening here in the united states over the past few years, fear or hatred of the police, which the movie portrays mostly as human, or centaur, race playing a role in politics, police corruption of varrying levels, even some racial jokes using the world''s setting to play off comments. at one point the comment is made ''why do Orcs always have to be the bad guys'', to which a hispanic LA County Deputy replies ''dont look at me, mexicans still get shit for the alamo.''


    the wand itself represents everything you could want, and it is never stated, however highly inferred throughout the movie that magic weapons are illegal, and two feds are quickly put on the task of retriving it. there is also a huge drawback to the wand, in that only a certain type of person is able to use a magic wand, a Bright, from where the movie retrieves its name. if you arent a bright, any physical contact with the wand will result in the being''s spectacular death.


    in conclusion, I belive the film was a good narritive of the human experiance, where some experiance great greed when faced with the means to get whatever they want, others strive to do the right thing despite their cirmcumstances. where race only plays a minor role in the overall movie, there are still several comments and nods to the racial tensions of the united states over the past decade, and in a few cases, comments that could easily apply to America''s civil rights movments. the digital effects were well done, the modern fantasy setting brought in a completely new element to the movie, it was an overall good experiance to watch the movie, and it is easy to tell that the designers put a lot of thought into everything on the sets, down to the ''I love Orcs -Nobody'' graffiti in the bathroom, making the Bright universe come alive.


    Take it or leave it; this my oppinon of the movie.


    ~Tink

 The Male Valkyrie

    there are always twelve valkyries.  it has been that way since the inseption, and creation of the test.  two years ago, three of them passed away in sessecion. leaving only nine.  a year ago, three more passed, with no new ones being born yet.  leaving six.  and this year, again, three more in freak accedents, and the people have begun to worry, as every birth is put under the test.  their blood, and will are tested, and the test gives a mark on the side of their hip as to what occupation will suit them best as an adult.  it hasn''t been wrong yet.


    Just because you bear a mark, doesnt mean you have to follow that occupational route.  if it says you would be a good soldier, but you want to do accounting, you may.  the only exception, is of course: the Valkyrie.  once given this sacred task, one must walk through the doors.  and become one of the spiritual warriors, no exceptions.  and with only three living valkyries right now, even more so.


    in a small town, where the test isnt given at birth, but rather a doctor comes around to administer it once every five years, six children sit and wait for the person to come into the room, and tell them what the fates have brought them.


    each one, in turn, gets a small device placed on their arm, a glass tube is placed in each device with a liquid inside that looks silver.  the nurse stands in front of the group of six, the only ones below the age of six in the town.


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    "Alright, the glass tubes are little machines that will sample different things in your body, and say what you are most suited for."  the children having all heard this before, except for the two infant girls, knew about the test already and nodded; and well the infants wouldnt get it.  so the nurse pressed a button on a nearby console, and the glass tubes turned red.


    one by one, symbols began appearing on the children.  the two oldest, both boys, recived the marks of soldiers, one green, one black.  the black one would be best suited for a foot soldier, where the green would one day grow to be a battle-mage.  the two youngest both recieved the symbol for nobles.  leaders, innovators.  again, one was black, and the other green.  where the green one may one day become a high-noble, neither would be able to use magic.


    the two middle ones a boy, and a girl, both recieved the same emblem as well.  Gold in color, denoting the symbol meant a firm control of energies within their bodies, both spiritual, and arcane.  but the form the emblem took on startled the nurse even more.  it was a golden hawk, with spread wings.  on the girls''s 4 year old hip, it was small, one could even call it a beauty mark, but on the  three year old boy, it was large, the head rested on his waist, the tail feathers went down the length of his leg, to just above the knee, and the wings seemed to wrap around his hips, not quite touching on the opposing side.


    Two Valkyries had been discoverd, worse, the girl was born before the death of the first valkyrie three years ago; something was going astray, there should only ever be twelve.  And never before has a male child recived this emblem.  but as things were, the children chosen as the conductors of the dead, were now wards of the state.  their parents would be able to visit them, and would even be encouraged to do so until they were twelve years old, but the government, in dire need of those with this emblem, would raise them now.


    they were taken from their parents, without warning, in that moment.  even the nurse became weary from the wails of the two children in his care, as he made his way back to the capitol, a three days journey away.  unaware of the consequences of these two children entering the holy city.

 Unwilling Birth of the Time Mage

    Time.


    Time is Fluid.


    Time was once considered a Constant, but we know otherwise. We experience the present through the culminations of decisions made, both in the past, and in the future. The appointment next week that you will miss, is the culmination of decisions that have already been made, most of which are outside of one''s control.


    It is a difficult thing to fathom; altering the past, to better the future, through a fluid present; however, that is the motto of the Order of Last.


    To be considered one of it''s members, one has to prove they have changed something in their future, by altering their past, and being able to perceive that change in the present. A high-task when the majority of the population still struggles to be able to even perceive the Astral River.


    My sister is one of them.


    She isn''t strong, or very good at it. But she became a probationary member of the Order of Last two years ago, the day of her twentieth birthday. It was a weird feeling, knowing she changed something. I still don''t know how to explain the feeling. I guess it would be like watching a movie, listening to music, painting a portrait, and playing an instrument, all at the same time. All have similarities, but feel different.


    It felt that way for about an hour, about the time she began giving her speech. It was subtle at first, and then it became overwhelming, I felt like I lived through six different timeliness at the same time, watching six different movies that had the same plot.


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    Today, she is making an attempt to do it again. If she manages to do it, she becomes a full member of the Order. If she fails, she will be executed.


    I sit in her school''s gymnasium, silently praying over and over again to allow her to pass. When she steps onto the stage in the center of the room, I feel the pull on the Astral River, as the mages ready their spells. Some are to prevent interference, some to prevent her untimely death, and others to expedite it if she fails.


    "Today, I will attempt to change the timeline. I have studied with four teachers for the past two years to attempt to make a single, controlled, change in the past, that will ripple through our present, to change the future."


    Adding in the Order''s mantra into her opening sentence seemed to bring smiles to some of the old people''s faces. But her next statement didn''t seem to be appreciated.


    "The change I will make, is a simple one. My older brother, who can not use the Astral River, I will give him access. This change I make, means I must alter the fundamental portion of his DNA, and add something that isn''t there."


    Two of the elders stood as she completed her statement; but before they could react, I felt a massive pull on the River, and watched as the essence was coalesced into a sphere around her. And then the ripple. The wave shook through me, as I was the one to be effected the most by this change.


    It lasted merely five seconds, but when the shield in front of me fell, so did the wave over me. I felt different, but couldn''t tell why, or how.


    I got upset to my stomach, and vomited almost immediately, and the elders looked pissed. I passed out after that, having no idea what had just happened.

 Broken

    Death is not an ending, nor a beginning; meerly another cog in the machine called existance. each arbor spinning in it''s bearings, until the day it wears out, and a spinning life spins for it''s last time.


    some cogs are weak, spinning for only a few days, hours, or even seconds. some cogs continue to spin centruries after the body that once held the life is long gone, cogs with names like Des Carte, Plato, Euclid still spin strongly even today, 5000, or more, centuries since their bodies rejoined the soil of the homeworld.


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    today, another cog begins to spin. gaining speed, and setting its mesh with those around it, driving the machine of existance, forcing things to move in ways they weren''t meant to.


    today, a cog begins to spin. the grand archatitect, who governs the existance machine watches this new cog intently, pondering over the quandries it represents; knowing that its mesh will cause problems, but unsure of how many cogs it will remove from the machine.

 Dependance

    Life can really suck.


    no, I mean, it can really, suck.  not in the normal ''I don''t have a prom date.'' suck.  I don''t even mean the ''Man, I wish I would just get hit by a truck'' moments either.  what I mean is the moment between the impact, and the great void called death.  I didn''t get hit by a truck, and I had a date for prom, but my best friend didn''t, so I understand; I mean I heard about it for a month afterward, how much prom sucked stag.


    No, for me, I slipped on the ice right as I got off the bridge spanning the river near my house; and subsequently slid down the embankment to the frigid waters below.  Water so cold that Iceflows were common this time of year, and I was just so lucky to land on top of a nice chunk of ice.  however I was unlucky enough to unbalance it, and end up underneath the flow.


    I know I am drowning, but I think I will die from the fridgid water first, either way, I am dead, and both methods are painful.


    so, why am I so calm right now?  why can I think about this while knowing I am drowning?  I honestly have no idea; but the spectral view of the underside of the ice is beautiful.  I just wish I didn''t have to die to see it.


    _______________________________________________________________________________________________


    ~ 29th of Third Frost, 2933 C.E.~


    ~USF Carrier; Victoria~


    ~Sol System~


    "Are you sure it moved, Kylee?"  Alice asked me again.


    "Allie, have you ever known me to kid about anything with the LeGrands?"  I asked her, while checking the servo motor in front of me again.  "these things are ancient weapons, and we still don''t know much about them, other than we keep shoving modern equpment into them.  this one hasn''t had anyone in it in over a decade, it shouldn''t even have any residual charge left, but this servo is outputting five and a half megavolts."


    "You know that I have no idea what that means right?  I am a fighter pilot.  and isn''t there one of these on board every carrier for historical purposes?"


    "Every carrier except Clydesdale."  I answered back as I watch the voltage climb on the power circuit.  its no longer to the point where I can keep quiet about this.  I grab the handset on the wall beside the LeGrand''s leg where I was checking the voltage of the 1/2 ton servo motor.  "I need the captain."  I told the Directory AI in the headset.  Alice started figiting next to me, making me nervous as well.  after a few seconds, I heard the captain''s voice on the other end.


    "This better be good."  he nearly yelled at me.


    "The LeGrand''s power trunk line is at six megavolts and climbing."  I said in the same tone.  "thought you should know it''s getting power from somewhere."


    I hung up the handset before he could say anything else to me, and decided to climb the gantry to the cockpit of this ancient weapon.  this LeGrand is a bipedal, robotic chassis ten stories tall, looking like a knight in full plate armor.  as far as I know, there is no way to refuel, or recharge them, and these things have been my family''s research subjects for the better part of six generations now.


    My family has studied each one of these massive weapons, twelve in all, and we are no closer to understanding them now, than the first time humanity redicoverd them.  this one has a label on the cockpit''s protective shell which hides the entrance door, that gave us a lot of information about them, Model: LeGrand Knight 001-04  Manufacture: United States of America 3921  Christend ''Athena'' on December 22nd 3921.  The old calender system had to be looked up in order to determine when the Christening happend.


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    December would have occoured normally around the curren''t callender''s Third Turn, and First Frost; and some event happend in the early 4100''s that we did away with the old callender, I haven''t found a modern historian that can answer what it was; and started a new callender at year zero, Common Era.  This change became official in year 4112.  I quickly looked at the badge again, and checked the table my grandmother made, today would be Febuary 17th, 7046 on the A.D. callender, making this machine just over 3124 years old.


    So much knowledge and technology has been lost.  In the beginning, when we found them almost 800 years ago, all twelve moved, and functioned.  historians label this time as ''The Grand Age.''  it sounds glorious, and exciting, however it marks a time in human history that accounts for the largest mass genocide in recorded history.  The largest lunar city at the time, Atlas, experienced a single explosive decompression that killed 5.4 million people; and this is the defining event that started The Grand Age.


    I pull on the red handle next to the rivited plate my family calls the build plate, and open the cockpit.  The armor slides away more easily than usual, and I can feel some type of electical motors moving the armor away.  I usually have to use my whole body to do this, and right now, its barely straining my forearm.  Allie, stands beside me, and had been ready to help, looks dumbfounded.  I open the small door into the cockpit, and stop.  every surface has pictures on it, showing the walls around the LeGrand.


    Allie walks into the cockpit, behind me, and I hear the door slam behind me, and a series of electical motors make their respective sounds for a few seconds.


    "Pilot Chosen; Navigator Chosen"  a computer voice sounds through the cramped room.  a picture of Allie appears on the wall that would be considered the front of the LeGrand, and the voice speaks again.  "Navigator.  please state your full legal name."  Allie, looks at me, and I nod.


    "Alice Vivian Heckman."  she said plainly.


    "Navigator, now set as Alice Heckman.  voiceprint locked.  Navigator''s responsibilites are as follows:  Land Navigation, Ariel Navigation, docking, undocking, maintaining power levels to weapons, shields, movement motors and actuators."


    my picture appears on the front screen.


    "Pilot, please state your full legal name."


    "Kylee Rebecca Price."  I mimiced Allie''s tone.


    Pilot, now set as Kylee Price.  voiceprint locked.  Pilot''s responsibilties are as follows:  Flight movment, Mode Transformation, utilisation of assets such as weapons, shields, movment motors and actuators."


    after a few seconds the voice spoke again.


    "Alice, as navigator, you require the unobstructed visual location.  please enter the operations harness in the front of the cabin; pilot, you require the use of targeting interface, shield interface, location interface, and other visual cue interfaces, please enter the remaining operations harness.  Once seated, we will begin the tutorial."


    once we were both seated in the strange shaped chairs, they seemed to follow our movements.


    "For the saftey and protection of any allies that may be located in the exterior of the mobile knight Athena, the control harnesses have currently been set as input disabled."  it began.  it was another four hours before Alice and I could get out of the room that it called the cabin.


    "Now, for the last point of order, before the new pilot and navigator disembark.  Moble Kight Athena''s AI protocal is only used for the tutorial session, to which you have completed.  anything not directly under the purview of the Navigator or Pilot will be handled by the onboard personality.  thank you for using a Boeing Construction."


    at that the lights shut down, the doors opened, and standing in front of me is the captain.  the very pissed captain.


    "Historian.  how did you get it to move?"  he said, pointedly not using my name or title, only position.


    "I haven''t yet.  aparently most of its systems are autonomus.  it let us in, and thats all I know for sure."


    The captain stepped into the room, and looked like he was about to say something but a loud girlish voice roung out in the room.


    "Intruder detected!  exit the room now!" she exclaimed, and two small rifle like weapons exited the ceiling, aimed directly at the captain.


    "Athena!"  I shout, "Stand down."


    "I am sorry Kylee, only the Navigator, and Pilot are alowed to enter this room.  the other individual must exit.


    I point back to the exit and motion for the captain to leave.


    "Sir, she is serious, get out.  I will follow you and explain what I just witnessed."

 Detrimental Power

    Her eyes continued to get heavy.  The pain throughout her body preventing her from even screaming out.  Not a single soul on this earth would hear her die this summer''s eve.  Once the body expired, she felt the pain of death disappear, and an odd deprivation of feeling took over.  An effeminante voice is heard, and explains that the previous life is over, and a new one is to begin.  Most of her memories are to be removed, but some will stay.  She will access them, but only as dreams.  Every previous death seemingly came to her mind in superimposed flashes.


    The life she was killed while running away from a pack of giant frogs, but she knew they weren''t called frogs in that life; but she couldn''t remember their name, human flesh was their favoirte food, and they would hunt it endlessly until it was caught.  The life she, and her family had been burned alive in a housefire because of an accedent in the middle of a gang war.  The life she, and her best friend, left her house to go to a graduation party at the quary; and instead, a tire blew, she lost control of her studibaker, ending up submerged in a lake, and died from drowning.  The life where, she was a he, died of a heart attack on a stage, while wearing a red graduation robe, she didn''t remember much about that death, only that everyone was laughing as the body slumped into the curtain behind her.


    The memory of fifty lives worth of deaths was all she could remember.  And this voice asked her a single question.


    "You will be born again, your soul is scheduled for nine more lives after this one.  the timeframe you are born into this time will have many challenges, and at this time, you will have to choose which gender you want to be.  there is enough genetic information for you to be male, or female.  males have the power to create life, while females have the power to nurture that life, and make it grow.  you will be asked this question three more times, unless you answer male."


    "Female."  she thinks to her self, not knowing how to answer the voice.  she feels herself go to sleep, and after an unkown ammount of time passes, the voice comes back.


    "it is time for the next stage for your development."  hundreds of thousands of memories bombard the small developing human.  and she realizes they are memories of her hobbies in her past lives.  "The timeframe you will be being born into, for this life, is much more open to ideas and creativity than your past lives, and allows for much more freedom for females than for males, however males will generally have additional free time in order to partake in pastimes.  This is the second time you are being asked this, do you wish to become male, or stay female?"


    Stolen story; please report.


    "Female."  She thinks once more, and just like the previous time, felt herself go to sleep.


    The next time she awakens, the voice seems a bit more persistant, and memories of previous romances fall into her mind, memories of courting, and dating women, as well as memories of being courted by honorable men, and being chased by those not so honorable.  "This time frame, a religion called Christianity has taken hold, and is the most prevelent."  from her previous four lives, she rememberd some of this religion, and understood its morality and precepts.  "this religion preaches that reincarnation can''t occour, even though almost every member of the religion has met me at least seven times before.  in this religion, females are to honor males, and to be equal partners, however most practitioners of this religion have taken the words to mean other things.  The likelyhood of a female being abused, or taken advantage of, within this religion is quite high in certain areas of the world.  do you wish to remain female?"


    "yes."  she states again.  some worry has crept into her mind, but overall, she waves it off as her mind goes to sleep once more.


    she awakens a fourth time.  "little one, you are on schedule to be the younger sister, with two older brothers.  if you choose to become a male, you will not experiance love, or have children until over half of your scheduled natural life is expended, and when you do; every memeber of your family will question the intentions of your, much younger, partner.  however, if you choose to remain female, your eldest brother will rape you repeatedly as you grow older, until you turn the age of fifteen, when he will get you pregnant.  you will attempt to hide the father of the child, and attempt to keep the family together, even though it will be detrimental to a healthy life for yourself; once the father is found out; the family will disown the eldest brother.  You will experiance the love of the child for the remainder of your life.  so your choice of gender at this time, means to either live a loveless life throughout your youth; or to be the reason a family breaks apart, gathering the unintentional ire of your relatives for being a victim; but know love throughout your life."


    "no mother should have to choose between her children.  Male."  she thinks to herself, knowing the voice can hear her.


    "So be it.  removing active memory retrieval, setting fate; adjusting matricies; enjoy your new life, little one.  as harsh as it may be."

 Escape From Atlantica

    Atlantica IV City


    +6:22:45 hrs since seismic event


    Sounds.


    They mean everything down here. Seven miles deep. A city of two million living beneath the surface of the Atlantic Ocean. I was born here. I have only ever seen pictures of the sun, or noticed it on the news channels that tell us about the things on the surface; not that any of that is important down here.


    specially designed lights, meant to make sure we get the right ballance of light and darkness, are mounted in the walls throughout the structure that some wealthy billionaire built nearly fifty years ago called Atlantica IV; the fourth of such an endeavor to colonize the inhospitable depths of our planet. At first, it was only biologists and scientists that wanted to come here, then it was the laborors, and maintinance people, along with their families. Then it was decided that computer technicians, programmers, and similar occupations were needed, as the surface opperated much differently than we did down here.


    Soon, mechanical engineers, robotics specialists, and subaquatic welders became prevelent, as the original Atlantica structure was deemed too small to support the growing populace, that was 43 years ago, the hospital was built on the surface, lowered down to us, then teathered, and the hydrolocks placed. if something goes wrong, the hospital is designed to be unclamped, and jettisoned, to let it raise to the surface as fast as it''s boyancy will allow it.


    massive reinforced concrete girders support the whole part to keep it from breaking apart during the rapid ascent. but in order for me to survive a catastrophe, I have to make it there before someone decides to pull the big red lever that releases it. its drilled into everyone who has grown up down here, what that one lever means.


    a decade ago, a test was performed on an old residential portion, people who wanted to leave were asked to move in, and the section was jettisoned after a new complex was lowered to us. once it was beneath the section that was going to go up, the old area was jettisoned. Three hundred people moved in; Twenty made it to the surface, the aged portion crumbled as it rose, the pressure of the inside being too much as it neared the surface, and a weak window seal blew out a half mile under.


    The hospital isn''t guaranteed survival, but its the only chance.


    Me? I''m probably not going to make it in time. Especially not with one of the nitrogen pipes having fallen from the ceiling. The earthquake six hours ago having broken something in the foundation, the whole city was now only being held down by the wire teathers, and only two of the seven foundation pillars remained.


    My classmates left me when the pipe hit me; I heard a few of them say that I was already dead as they forced their friends to leave me under this heavy pipe, my hands pinned, so I couldn''t even fix my uniform''s skirt, that showed an embarassing scene to all the students who fled after my class.


    The unusual sound of the wire teathers, that have broken free, twanging off of the ones that are still holding, while the ocean currents settle from the earthquake are new, the raw, unregulated, cold, nitrogen flooding this area causing my ears to pop from the ammount of pressure from the pipe that is bigger around than my seventeen year old, size nine, body.


    A loud Klaxon blared, and a sound that I had only heared once before, in grammar school, sounded through the building. A dull thud, followed by an unmistakable sound of an air blast.


    The Hospital was now gone.


    The hallway in which I was pinned, shifted slightly, the missing Hospital, unballancing the city on the remaining foundation pillars that were meant to keep us on the bottom of the ocean. The main body of the city wouldnt survive the rise, the pipe rolling off of me, down my legs, and across my knees, gave me the worst pain that I could remember, then it rolled over my feet, and off my body. I was free.


    I was in shock. I was going to die down here, the hospital was gone, the farm was in the module under the hospital, it would either have gone up with it, or be flooded now; all of the cows, chickens, and sheep would have gone to the surface with that jettison, but the grains, fruits, and vegitables were now gone.


    I stood straight, and set my head against the wall that leaned toward me. I don''t know how long I stood there crying, but I suddenly realised that I wanted to live, no matter what that entailed. I am trapped, seven miles deep, in a concrete bunker that could implode at any second because of the stresses of it''s own precarious position. The only food I have is what would be in the resturants near the core of the city, the surface elevator was probably the first thing used in the evacuation, but even if it was still down here, the city wouldn''t be able to release it at it''s current angle.


    I jogged back to the house I had shared with my father, up until last year. changed out of my uniform, and into one of the emergency wetsuits that hung just inside the doors of every apartment. I had just had a new one delivered last month after our school''s quarterly health checks. my old one wouldn''t have fit anymore, so I got a new one.


    Leaving the house, I made sure to seal the hatch behind me, keeping some oxygen in the structure when it finally implodes may help increase the chance of survival, but its doubtful. At this depth, a puncture that could only produce a drip through the crack on the surface, could potentially cut the steel walls with the force behind the water, and sealing it would be impossible.


    As I turned the handle it''s final turn, I noticed Dad''s scratches on the door. Dad was a Subaquatic Welder, but at these depths, that meant he was more a submersible pilot than a welder. Last year, his sub imploded, there wasn''t anything left of him, a few strands of his hair was all that was left inside the vehicle. When I was eight, he had put these marks here, and showed them to me, in our own coded written form, so others couldn''t read it.


    "I love you Pica, never forget that."


    I touched the letters, remembering the day he showed it to me, then turn and ran toward the submersible bay. I''d have to go further down, the bay, and the high-pressure moon pool would all be near the bottom of the city, eleven stories beneath me, and through one of the maintinance floors.


    Minutes felt like hours as I ran, only stopping for a moment to grab food from a hot-dog stand as I went by it. Sounds came from below, and the sound that Control had told us was the foundation pillars releasing, resounded through the city once more. The floor shifted angle again, I almost fell, when I thought it was going to tilt further, it stopped as the twang of steel cables resounded, followed by the low hum of the ocean currents pulling the lines tight like they do when the tides begin moving faster.


    I wolfed down the second sausage I had grabbed from the stand while I regained my ballance on the odd angled floor, and continue to head down to the bays. but greeting me was a scene I had hoped to never see. water up to the center of the glass in the moon pool room.


    I had forgotten what the list of the city would do to the air that constantly pressurized the moon pools, it released it back into the ocean. the moon pools wouldn''t let me get out, but perhaps the hard-bay would. there were three weld-subs left down here, two were missing the front glass, and one was missing one of it''s drive motors. as long as the three others it had could work, I could get out from underneath the city and make it to the surface.


    diving into the seal door, located in the back of the pressure chamber of the weld-sub, I jumped into the controls chair, and pushed the emergency release button on the top of the little vessel. it didn''t work.


    I got out, and found that the batteries of all three of these vessels were gone. no battery, no power, no power, I can''t blow the pressure tanks to accend. whoever had taken the seperate battery out of the emergency door opener, just saved my life.


    Surface Trade Station


    Atlantica IV


    +12:44:12 hrs since seismic event


    I was mesmerised at the scene before me. unlike the residential section ten years ago, the hospital made it to the surface, fully in tact. the pressure had finally equalized to the point that we could open the hatches that were above water level, and let the people out. Atlantica IV was the largest of the twenty remaining Atlantica stations, well, I guess it''s nineteen stations now.


    We were closest to the united states, but it would still be another two hours before any evacuation ships could get here to start getting these people out of here. As my subordinates were getting the people out, there was only one face I could hope to see, but it was getting less and less likely to see it as the once familiar faces shuffled to the door.


    "Elaine, its good to see you." I get greeted by one of the deep city administrators, I only recognize the uniform, not the person wearing it. up here, I''m the one in charge, but only the top of the city leadership actually know what I look like, so that I can make unnoticed trips down to the city for inspections.


    "How many made it?" I asked, without asking for their name. my mind was on survival at this point, the surface didn''t have the food to support this many people, and the farms may not have made it, we can hope, but always plan for the worst.


    "I think we got everyone." he said to me. "Headcount was inconclusive, I figured we could count as they exited."


    Lazy bastard. At his words, I turned my head and glared at him; then announced in a loud enough voice that all the regular citizens around me could hear.


    "You chose not to do a headcount before releasing the hospital? you chose to possibly kill anyone left when none of the water seals, or alarms had gone off yet, only the list warning? you chose to deploy the most expensive safety yacht in the city, without doing your job, former administrator?"


    "Now, you listen here..."


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "No! you listen, you self-satifying putz! you WERE in charge of a city, a city that is now ABANDONED. I am in charge of the surface platform, and every thing, and person on board, as well as within ten kilometers from it on the surface. that includes the hospital. Now, go do a fracking headcount." I did my best not to use profanity, but I really wanted to.


    Surface Trade Station


    Atlantica IV


    +28:44:12 hrs since seismic event


    "Elaine." The man who I had told to do a headcount finally came back.


    "How many did your lapse in judgement kill?" I asked without looking up.


    "There were only three people missing from the counts, two bodies floated to the surface an hour ago, leaving only one person unaccounted for. A Pica Bridges."


    My eyes lifted from the paperwork in front of me, and bore into the man in front of me.


    "You are sure, Pica is the only unaccounted?" I asked; trying my damndest to not show how pissed I really was at the moment. I could tell I failed.


    "Possitive, a couple of boys from her class said they had seen her trapped under a dislodged nitrogen pipe as they fled the school sections."


    "Bring those boys to me. Now." I guess the look on my face was scary, as he left my room pretty quick. An hour later, six boys were lead into my office.


    "You six said you saw Pica Bridges trapped during the evac?" I asked them pointedly.


    "Yes, Station Commander." one answered quickly, he was too young to have been in Pica''s class. "I had tried to help get the pipe off of her, but these gentlemen pulled me away, saying she was already dead."


    I looked to the other boys, "Was there blood on her outfit?" they shook their heads, "Did you check her pulse?" they shook their heads again, "Did you verify that she was deceased before halting rescue operations?" they shook their heads, this time with eyes wide. They knew exactally why I asked those questions now, it was a capitol offence in any subaquatic city to stop rescue operations before death was confirmed.


    "If she comes up alive, you five better hope you are already off my platform before I hear of it." I look to the sixth boy. "I will stand witness for your testimony." I told the sixth boy, letting him know that I could testify to the judiciary on his behalf. the boys began to turn and leave, "By the way, boys. Pica Bridges, the girl you left behind, she is my niece, and the only family she has left, is me. so you better pray that you were right, that she was dead when you left her, otherwise our next conversation will not end with plesantries; enjoy the rest of your stay on Aquatic IV Trade Platform."


    Atlantica IV City


    +46:23:55 hrs since seismic event


    I finally got a couple of station batteries fitted, it took me nearly two days, but at least the wire teathers were holding, as long as I''m not dead, I am going to continue with what I have to do to try and survive. dull rings began sounding through the city, and cracking sounds began. I''m out of time.


    I dive into the rear hatch again, the little ship barely large enough for me to lay down inside to opperate. I could sit up, but the controls were meant to be used while in the laying position. it felt awkward, mainly because this one was meant for a man to use. I closed the hatch, and pressed the emergency button again, the massive doors ahead of me opened faster than I expected, I layed there in awe, wonder and surprise as one of the doors slid completely off it''s rails because of the speed it opened.


    "Emergency Indeed." I said to myself. the tiny four inch window was easily a couple feet thick, carved into a cone shape, resting against the pressure hull around me. With only three motors, it was a bit difficult to operate, but it wasn''t so bad once I released the mooring clamps off the top of the sub.


    yeah, I tried moving without releasing the mooring from inside the sub, once it was done, moving wasn''t so hard. I turned on the communications radio, it could only broadcast 2 miles at this depth, but I could hear anything that was going on, I also turned on the distress beacon, and the sonar locator, so I would show up as a much larger vesse on most sonar screens.


    I slowly moved out of the bay, having to continuously let water into the balast tanks to attempt to stay level.


    U.S.S. Constitution


    Outside Atlantica IV City


    +49:24:19 hrs since seismic event


    "Sir, I just picked up a very loud noise, shortly followed by a distress beacon, and its moving along the lower portion of the city."


    "Moving?" I ask.


    "Yes; Without a doubt, its comming closer to our location, should we attempt contact? as of right now, there is only one soul unaccounted for, it may be her."


    "These cities are kind of particular about ensuring the life or death of someone, go ahead ensign."


    "Aye, Aye; skipper." the communications Ensign responds, then quickly puts on the headset that drowns out the bridge noise. "Unkown Vessel, can you hear me? Please respond."


    "I read you." I heard a young feminine voice across the bridge speakers. "This is Pica Bridges, Atlantica IV; I might have caused a little bit of damage to the city, but in all honesty, I''ll take my punishment if I can reach the surface." the girl says through the radio.


    "Pica, this is Ensign Cray, Aboard the U.S.S. Constitution, reconasance Submarine; is there any reason why you wouldn''t make it to the surface, now that you are out?"


    "Ensign, some of that damage was to attempt to get this little weld-sub working enough that I could use it. I had to steal a couple station batteries, and a few feet of wire from one of the locomotion generators, and I couldn''t find another motor to replace the one this one is missing, also, even though I have turned off the inlet valve for the balast tanks, they are still leaking some water into them, I won''t rise quickly enough to keep one of the tanks from going critical."


    "Thats a damn good assessment from a seventeen year old girl, who has been completely alone for almost two days." I say, not realizing that she could hear me.


    "Thats a new voice." she replies. "My father was a welder down here, up until last year. he taught me a lot about these little things, namely because its all he knew he could talk about with me, and second, because his life depended on it working right. I lost him, when it wasn''t." she replied. "Can I ask who the new voice is?"


    "I am the current Captain of the Constitution, my name is Ryan Goss; so please, refer to me as Skipper for now. do you think you could get yourself above our bow?" I asked, noting her location on the sonar screens.


    "I''m sorry, I only heard part of that." she says, and Ensign Cray repeats my request.


    "I''ll take any help I can get." she responds, and half the bridge leave their stations to watch the blip on the sonar screens take a weird path to get to us, but with it fighting the currents, and being down a motor, she was making good time, and had really good control. after about an hour, we finally heard her voice again. "Skipper; Constitution hull in viewport, attempting soft-dock."


    soft-dock, when two sumbersibles touch on purpose, but not in a way that connects their pressure hulls. A clang is heard through the ship, made much louder by the fact that it seemed every sailor was stone quiet listening for her success, or failure. a second, and third clang were heard before her voice came back.


    "Soft-dock successful, mooring magnets deployed. The moorings will hold me stable up to 16 knots, thanks for the assist."


    cheers erupted around me, I was happy too, but I was captain, I couldn''t show it.


    "Release the anntenna, boost the signal, back to your stations people! until she is on the surface, she isn''t out of danger. those damn welding subs are nearly thirty years old now, far older thain their expected survice life ever was. navigator, do whatevery you have to, to keep pressure on that sub under the 16 knots she mentioned. keep in mind also that she is using mooring magnets, they arent effected by the pressure like mooring hooks, 16 knots to the surface, even if we loose her." I look around the room before issuing my next command. I pick up the ship''s intercom phone, and issue the order the crew loves hearing the most. "Rise, Rise, Rise."


    Surface Trade Station


    Atlantica IV


    +56:08:20 hrs since seismic event


    "Mam, U.S.S. Constitution just called in, Emergency Rise, Emergency Personel on Alert, Possible Survivor with them."


    Surface Trade Station


    Atlantica IV


    +62:04:09 hrs since seismic event


    The U.S.S. Constitution''s conning tower crested the water, shortly followed by the bright orange Welding vessel that Atlantica cities use. the magnetic mooring chains were deployed, and practically held the tiny submersible near the bow of the ship. most of the survivors had already been evacuated, I made sure that a certain five boys would be the last ones off my station; so they were still here.


    millions of people inside one of these cities, only two dead, and one left behind. the safety procedures would have been considered a complete success, had those five boys helped instead of leaving a girl to perish. I saw a string of men and women exit the hatches along the top of the Constitution, and run toward the welding sub. It was resting with its nose facing forward, so the sailors were able to get to the outside access hatch. after a few seconds, the bright green and clashing orange of the city''s wetsuits was glaringly obvious amoung the uniformed people of the Navy Vessel.


    "Bring her onboard; get her checked out." I commanded over the radio. two speed boats, and a fleet of tugs went out to collect the constitution, along with probably the most important payload of this whole thing, Pica.


    the speed boats returned to the Trade Station, carrying Pica, and took her immediately to the medical sector. I couldn''t afford to miss anything in this, afterall, almost every major news orginsation in the world had cameras pointed at me right now, and not all were figurative.


    when the constitution was finally tugged to the dock, I noticed the welder that Pica had brought up. it was in horrid shape, and shouldn''t have been sea-worthy. although it had three motors, they had the old style three bladed impellers, instead of the, now regulation, eight blades; I had already been told one motor was missing, but I hadn''t been told that station batteries, with plastic wrap ductaped to the connections was all that was keeping her alive; nor was I told that there was nearly two hundred feet of wire strapped to the outside of the hull, to power a double set of lights.


    I''m not sure I want to know where, or how she got some of this stuff, to get this working.


    "Bring me two engineers." I called out to my assistant.


    "Elaine." Ryan said as he walked up beside me. "Thast really what she used?" he asked, seeming to really see it for the first time.


    "She is her mother''s daughter." I said, he looked at me from the side of his eyes, but I could tell he wouldn''t ask more. "Her Mom was the  Kelsey Price." I told him.


    "Her mom was the designer of the new modules?"


    "And the new welders" I told him. "Her dad, Gregory Bridges, was a welder, Kelsey made the new design to help him work better."


    "you read pretty far into her file." he said to me.


    "No, Ryan, She is my niece; my sister was her mother." I look back to the welder as our dock crane removes it from the bow of the constitution. "So, now work; you were down there, how bad is it?"


    "When I gave the order to rise, the city was at a 33 degree list, with only one foundation pillar remaining. and only two tether wire beacons were stationary, the rest were waving along the current. I would put the oxygen seal of the city to only last another day at the most, but it could fail at any time. This city is a total loss."


    "I heard you needed an engineer mam?" a new person walked up behind me, and I saw Pica behind him.


    "I need you to go over that Sub-Welder with a fine tooth comb, catalogue every change, every jerry-rigged solution to a problem, and diagram everything out." I ordered; "And, Pica, get over here."


    "Station Commander Price." she said super formally, but she stared at me in wonder for a moment. She didn''t know that I had been watching her from afar, how could she know.


    "Pica, formalities are for later. first, come here." I said as I took my niece into an embrace for the first time since she was an infant. I immediately felt Pica relax, and it wasn''t long before she was embracing me back while crying.


    Washington D.C.


    United States of America


    +96:02:09 hrs since seismic event


    "Four days ago, the first ever mass evacuation from a submerged city occoured after a real world event, with only two deaths, both individuals not being onboard the exodus module, or as the locals simply refered to it, the Hospital, during the evacuation. Although a tragedy, this event will aid us in making the other Atlantica cities, as well as the Pacifica cities safer.


    Today, Pica Bridges is to be recognized for her bravery, as well as her engineering prowess in keeping herself safe, as well as getting more out of an old welding sub that had been decomissioned, than even it''s designers had thought possible."


    The only other person here, stood in front of a wall of cameras, took a step back from the podium, and walked toward me; he walked behind me, and picked something up.


    "Pica Bridges, in recognition for your achievements, I present to you the Medal of Freedom; the highest honor I am able to bestow upon a civilian for bravery. May you wear this with pride."


    little red lights flashed off of all the recording cameras, and I hurried off the stage toward the woman who I now knew was my aunt.


    "Ready to go home Pica?" she asked. I knew what she meant, but I figured I would say something.


    "My home doesn''t exist anymore. mind if I stay at yours; I kind of like seeing this color." I finish while pointing at the sun."

 The Navigator

    Dusk broke early this time of year.  Snow crept down the mountains, the next valley over was burried under the deep avalanches of snow that were common there.  Trailing edges of the aurora borialis flickered across the evening sky, dancing between the stars.


    The worn bronze necklace was smooth in her hands, the only polish it had ever seen in her 17 years were her fingers sliding across the deeply carved filagree, worn smooth with time, but still traced by her thumb as she watched the prismatic show above her.


    The creaking of the boats in the mid-winter''s iced harbor being the only sound; well aside from a burst of laughter now and then coming from the pub at the land side of the pier.


    "Still fondling that broken compass, Evie?"  an old woman''s voice called out, followed by a sharp snap of a dish cloth in the air.


    "Good Evening, Nora."  the girl calls back, without taking her veridian eyes off the skies.  her vibrant red hair barely being tamed by the winter garments meant to keep the heat against her body, frost forming on stray bits, and even some on her exposed eyebrows.


    "Gonna be a storm tonight, young''n.  I feel it in my bones."  Nora called back to her.  Evie had gotten warnings from her like this in the past, every time it had passed true.  The skies were clear right now, but Evie knew that if Nora said it would storm, it would storm.


    "Telling tall tails again?"  a mature man''s voice called out, dull thuds on wooden pier boards adding to the lightly lapping water through the chunks of ice in the harbor, ice dangerously encroaching on some of the mored boats.  "Evie, you have the stove going?"  he called out again, as he threw a brand new white rope coil onto the deck of the sailboat Evie had been laying on.


    "Been going for the past two hours.  You took your time getting new lines, I''m not gonna have time to re-rig the sails on the mizzen or main mast before morning, so we will need to be underways."


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Evie, I have seen you rerig an entire four masted cutter, solo, in seven hours, why aren''t you gonna be able to do only one line on two masts?"  the man asks sharply as his boots thud onto the boat.


    "Nora said it''s gonna storm, and I believe her, we need to be out of this harbor in two hours, or less." Evie said as she stood, grabbing the center of the rope coil and chucking it below deck through a small door, a dull red light visible as she did so, a wave of heat knocking the frost off of her eyebrows that had formed as she laid on the deck.


    "You still believe ol'' Nora can tell the weather?"  the man asks through gritted teeth, doubtingly; but throwing off lines as he spoke, betraying his own verbal disbelief.


    The wood creaked as the main sail chased a bird to the top of the mast, and slowly began moving in the eerie light, cast only by the prism of the sky.


    "Hey!  Eddie!"  a man called from the dock after the boat was away.  Ed''s jaw set as he turned on the deck to face the caller, Evie''s face turned into a scowl, and faced her uncle.


    "Uncle Ed, you did pay for the rope, didn''t you?"  she accused.


    "Yep, paid for the rope."  he answered quickly.  "Didn''t pay for the slip."  he told her truthfully, then called to the man on the shore.  "See you in a week Ned!"  he yelled, adding a cheerful wave.


    "Not this time!"  the man yells from the shore.  a flash, and a thunderous roar emenate from the man on the pier, as waves form around each of the piles supporting the slip the boat had just left.  Evie''s face splashes with something warm a split second later, as she watched her uncle''s headless body fall into the water off the back of the boat.  "Evie, settle your sail, or I take you as well."  the man called.  her hand seemed to move on autopilot, and the fabric sail falls back down to the deck.


    Without power, the boat seemingly travels by itself back to the slpway, and mooring lines reattach to the cleats in the decking.  "Alright boys.  Eddie owed four hundred sixty six silvers, go through the boat till I get my due.  leave Evie, and her clothes alone, there should also be a new rope somewhere that was paid for, leave it too."  Ned seemed to be a fair man, but swift in action, even if it was unwarnted.  it was one of the reasons Evie never liked stopping at this particular harbor, Ned owned all the marina''s here, and seemed perpetually unhappy.

 Predictions of the Past

    We knew we were a young race in the eyes of the stars.  having only been traversing the heaveans for a short time.  intergalactic treaties prevented us from being able to aquire the knowledge of hyperspace travel until we had gained it on our own.    In the past, we had been offered the technology by very unscrupulous means, however when the intergalactic community learned of the offers, all involved were eradicated.  It became quite clear that each race was required to gain their own methodology of the tech to traverse the stars; and those who tried to bring us into the heaveans faster were wiped out systematically.


    Our home planet, which we called Earth, became a tourist locale for the various species that we could communicate with; but traversing the distances ourselves was still out of reach.  And then, it happened.  The breakthrough that changed mankind; and cost us dearly in the process.  The gasses of Saturn and Uranus were found, by our own scientists, to be the ideal mixture for extrasolar travel; and a massive colony was built in order to harvest the atmosphere of the planets.  Within the span of ten years; we went from planning generational ships to get to the nearest stars; to having personal yachts that could carry people across the galaxy within a week; and any star within our own galactic arm within a day, two at the most.


    The space race of the old calander''s 1960s looked like a bunch of children playing with tinkertoys in comparison.


    as a child, I had dreamed of seeing the stars; and in my teen years, that became possible.  Now; at 26 years of age, I am part of a survey team to see if a planet is able to become an agriculture planet for our colonies.  Well, myself and 16 other humans from earth.  Two Elcars, and two Bentreals are traveling with us, both races sending a male and a female along.  They are to act as ambasadors if we find intelegent life, or mere observers until we do something wrong according to the plethora of treaties that the Galactic alliance has brought us.  Telven and Kednir are the Bentreals; where Ded, and Vale are the Elcars with us.


    "Benjamain Lyle Gazer; are you ready for what will be hapening in a few cycles?"  Vale asked me again.  I didn''t move my face from looking out the window at the violet and viridian planet below, but I could easily see her intelegent, silver irises peering into my back in the reflection the window gave me.  The emerald green pupil, had taken me a bit to get used to; even so, she was beautiful by human standards; and by Elcar standards; well, she was their princess.  so I couldn''t really tell if Ded thought she was pretty or not; he spent most of his time looking anywhere but in her direction, as was considered respectful in their culture.


    "Vale, we humans rarely use full names.  You always make me feel like I am in trouble when you say it like that."  I replied while looking at her reflection.  I heard Ded inhale as though he was about to say something to me about how I had adressed her, but a quick motion from Vale''s hand; and I heard nothing from him.


    "I am aware; however not using your full name; by your own culture also shows varying degrees of intimacy which are foriegn to us."


    "Please, either refer to me as Mr. Gazer if you wish to be formal, or just simply Ben, if you do not.  permissions like this are usually not expressed, but I still forget that Elcars have only recently become interested in our race."  I responded to her.  "and as for your question; honestly, I don''t know."  I turned to face her, but I kept my eyes closed; the closest compromise I could give between our two cultures as to not show disrespect, but also get my point across.  "If there is no other intelegent life on this planet; it is a class M, and most of our crops will grow here, and there will be no issues; but that is the best outcome.  however, plans rarely survive contact with reality, and I stand here mulling over the possiblities of what will happen if the best outcome for us can not be achieved; and as to what level of success at that point could actually be considered successful.  or the worst case scenerio, we find a civilisation similar to our own down there, and can''t bring anything to the table as a member of the galactic community.  What demands will they attempt to make, what can we inspectors offer in negotiations without giving too much away, and/or still maintainting the treaties."


    I feel her hand on my shoulder, something that Elcars rarely do, physical contact.  Only some, who have been on Earth for more than a year, have come to understand is part of our nature, and how we convey various emotions such as sympathy.  "Mr. Gazer; that is why we are here;  if that ''worst case'' occours.  feel at ease."  I felt her leave the room, and heard Ded grunt as the hatch sealed behind him.


    One Human will remain on the ship when we head down to the planet, Lillian Gazer, my sister, was the one chosen to do so by our commander.  Her mental processing is insane by human standards, but she barely matches a two year old Bentreal''s abilities.  Bentreals are known the galaxy over as cutthroat merchants.  and a Bentreal that introduces themselves as a Captain are part of the elite of their society; Telven and Kedner, however, are both Admirals, capable of processing 15 thought-controlled ships simultaniously in battle.


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    A light chime plays through the speakers of my room.  The alarm telling me its time to go; its time for Planetfall.


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Where I landed, seemed to be a vast plain, but it was barren.  The soil was dry.  What I had thought was vegitation from space, was nothing more than the bright color of the soil itself.


    Ded was with me, and the three other Humans in my group.  I was the mechanic; my only job was to fix the equipment, or the shuttle, if anything was damaged or broke; I was also the Doctor, so I guess you could say I was still the Mechanic; it just didn''t matter wether or not the machine I worked on was biological, or man-made.


    I kicked a rock, as I bumbled around the area where we were to camp for the night; and stopped in my tracks as I stood on the crest of the nearby cliff, that overlooked a river valley.  Looking back at me, were unmistakable signs of a civilisation.  Tombstones.


    "Everyone Halt!"  I yelled out.  Ded, came running up the hill, and stopped next to me, his already pale complection seemed to become pasty in an instant; Jeremy, Beverly, and Kyle ran up the hill as well, and it seemed the reality hit them as well.  "Ded, would it be out of place for me to see if I can read what is on these stones?"  I asked without looking toward him.


    "Benjamain Lyle Gazer; if you step foot into a memorial park; you must do so with the utmost care, and constant thought of the ancestors, as well as posterity of any possible race interred within the park."


    "Understood.  Please have everyone wait here."


    "Agreed."  he replied simply, and I saw him turn around in the corner of my vision.


    most of the stones were simple, and simply read a name, a pair of dates; and how the one interred had passed.  the part that had surprised me however, was that every stone was carved; and the language was in English.  although, I didn''t understand the calender used, it wasn''t hard to miss the gist of a timeline.


    Myra Linseed; First Leaf 921 - Second Frost 956; Childbearing


    Cory Linseed; Third Fire 930 - First Frost 966; Starvation


    Miriam Linseed; Second Frost 956 - First frost 966; Starvation


    Bedrim Wolfe; Unknown - First frost 966; Starvation


    Adele Wolfe; Unknown - First Frost 966; Starvation


    Sylvia Leaf; First Wind 655 - First Frost 966; Starvation


    Dorn Leaf; Second Wind 656 - Second Frost 966; Stabbing


    I slowly walked through the stones, and quickly noticed the plethora of Starvation deaths during the time frame of First Frost 966.  Easily half of the stones I saw were like that.  Then I saw the first of the ones that were different; all the stones up until I had spotted this one were simple rectangle stones; with little to no information on them.  But, this one; this one had a cast effegy resting on a clear stone, embedded into a cylendrical pillar.  It was so different from every one of the stones I had come across so far, I wondered why I hadn''t seen it before; as I walked around to the front of it, a cold sweat began to form.


    Edwin Von Grip; First Frost 966 - First leaf 1274; Old Age  Edwin Von Grip; born during the Famine of 966 in Westland, Myra.  Rose through the ranks of the Imperian Navy; and later the Collaborative Space Force.  Retired at 244 years of age from the Planetary defense fleet.  First CSF Ace pilot, with 46 confirmed downed craft at the time of his retirement.


    I looked around to see if there were any similar stones nearby, and saw two more cylenders; each with a different cast statue on top of a clear stone, embedded into the pillar.


    Myrian Wolfe; First Fire 955 - Second Wind 1270; Old Age  Myrian Wolfe; Survivor of the Famine of 966 in Westland Myra.  Born in Caldris, Myra.  Imperian Navy Admiral; first Collaborative Space Force Admiral; died from age related complications while serving aboard Imperian Navy Planetary Defense Platform Delta while still on active service.


    the statue depicted an old woman; standing proudly, her shoulders back; and her hands clasped behind her back; standing in the same position as the burly man on Edwin''s statue.  I walked over to the last one.


    Syndney Leaf; Third Leaf 966 - First Wind 1389; War.  Syndney Leaf; only Infant survivor of the Famine of 966 in Westland, Myra.  Born in Westland, Myra.  Imperian Navy Tactician; Friend of the Monarch.  Died from beheading during the Talderian uprising.  Interred at the Monarch''s burrial grounds in Galderan, Myra.  Stone placed in Westland, Myra at Syndney Leaf''s last request.


    "Can I help you?"  I hear a young voice behind me.  I turn to look, and see a violet haired girl carrrying what look like a few blades of grass.


    "I came across these stones, and wished to pay my respects."  I answered her.


    "Grandfather would appreciate that."  the girl said as she placed the few scrap leaves at the base of the stone I had just finished reading.  She pursed her lips, and gave a short whistle.  as she did, the clear stones the statues rested upon changed colors; and I felt something tremble in the air.  it was a beautiful sound.  "You are not Myran."  she finished with her eyes closed.


    "No, I am not."


    "Are you Teldaran?"  she asked.


    "I am not.  I am from a place called Earth."


    "I haven''t heard the name of that country before."  she sighed, and sat down, facing the stone.  "Myra no longer travels the heavans because of Teldara.  They sabotoged almost all of our ships; and several good men and women died because of their actions.  Does your country traverse the heavens?"


    "I do not speak of a country named Earth; but a world.  And yes; we Traverse the Heavens."  I replied the way Ded had said I should; mimicing the flow of indigenous people.  The fact that this person is speaking to me in a language that I thought would have only existed on Earth nearly made me loose my cool, but I kept it down.


    "Are you a scout, or an ambasador?"  she asked.


    "I guess you could call me a bit of both."  I answered honestly.  "I was sent here to be a part of a team to see if we could grow plants in this area; however, seeing this, and meeting you; we will not be able to do that."


    "What do you mean?"  she asked.


    "we have treaties in place that prevent my people from using something that is already being used by intelegent beings; that means we can''t use this land."


    "I see."  she gives a faint smile as she touches the memorial stone.  "I must return to Westland before the sun sets.  I would sugest you do the same; and quickly.  nights in this area can be unforgiving; there aren''t many trees, and you do not want to be on the ground once the sun goes down."


    she stands, wipes the back of her long skirt off; then walks away from me.

 Is a Dream just a Dream

    The Spring sun had just risen over the valley.  The dense fog still covered the town, lit street lamps the only way to navigate.


    "I wish my hair was white." Clara said to herself as she pulled the black locks over her shoulder.  By the time her hair came to rest in front of her; the raven strands had indeed changed to match the color of the silver signant ring worn on her index finger.


    As she takes her next step, a smile now on her face; and eyes alight with mischief, her mind floats to another.  she seems used to this, and continues her trek into the dense morning fog.  A middle aged dwarf is covered in Trammels, held taught to a flat table.  she had seen this before.  Its the process for a Cursed One.  a slug of brass and lead is placed on the chest of a dwarf, and pressed into their bones, to rest in their body next to their heart.  A dwarf who survives the process is a shell of their former selves; the touch of alchohol and metal becomes the most caustic and painful poisions to their bodies.  as the vision continues; another dwarf steps into Clara''s view, with his face obstructed.  His words were muddled to her ears, but she didn''t need words to know This new Dwarf was trouble, and was the reason why the other was becoming cursed.


    Clara took a seat on a dew covered bench, and watched the day turn to evening, without moving, or eating.  Passerby seemed to know not to bother her, and others that looked similar to her seemed to avoid her gaze, and refused to speak with her.  Just as evening fell, a Human visitor was gifted the new Cursed One, and took offense to the gift, while drawing the sword at his hips.  Still Clara watched.  This time however, it was not with her vision, but right in front of her, in the middle of the carraigeway.


    As the man''s sword went toward the Cursed one; Elves seemed to materialize out of the crowd, all with swords drawn at the human man.  The one with his sword on the throat of this human began to speak.


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    "In our faith, ones like this are blessed, and are to be reveared.  if you do not wish to care for this Dwarf, we will gladly take on that task."  The human quickly sheathed his sword, never looking toward the sheath that the tip seemed to find on its own.


    "I have no Quarrel with the Elves, if you want this one:  he is yours."


    the crowd seemed to disappear as quickly as it had formed, leaving only the Dwarf guards, and the Human behind.  Clara stood, and the Dwarves seemed to recognize her, and quickly turned on their heels and ran as fast as their armor laden bodies would carry them.  The human seemed mesmarized by her, and only stared.


    "I wish you find yourself the happiness you are looking for; but not in this town."  Clara said to the man.  a female elf who had been walking on the sidewalk heard Clara''s words, looked to the man, shook her head, and scurried away while holding the hand of a small child.  The man tilted his head toward her, and looked as though he was about to speak, and disappeared from in front of Clara.


    Clara turned and began walking the streets once more, until the sun had fully set, and the large gas street lamps were once again the only way to navigate in the valley.


    She walked into a building that looked just like any other, used the stairs to go down, then entered a room in the basement.  The Dwarf from earlier sat on a chair.  a table next to him holding the garb of a Dwarvish slave that he had been wearing hours earlier.  The Cursed Slug lay on the table, the elves having removed it.


    She smiled at the man, and whispered just barely loud enough for him to hear.  "I wish this Curse had never happened to you."  her smile grew as the man no longer appered pale.  "Now the Iron in your blood is no longer trying to kill you.  Live your life."


    The Dwarf, seeming to realize who was in front of him kneeled on a single knee, and placed his closed fists on the ground, while his eyes never left her face.


    "Thank you, Godess of Wishes, Clara."


    At his words, her hair shifted to black, she nodded to him, and faded from the room.

 Templar

    40.


    I turn 40 in a couple of months. Aches and pains plagued and wracked my body since my twenties, and not much had changed. I am nothing more than a washed-up has-been. I used to march with the best of them, and the worst of them. My days as a soldier long gone. sure, I remembered most of the guys and girls I marched with regularly. a few faces were blurry, memories being what they were. as with any other soldier, a few faces always stood out: those we lost. The real heroes, and heroines; the ones that didn''t make it home.


    I married once, she left me. If I have kids, she never told me. I saw everything with rose colored glasses when I was with her. now, that whole time of my life is viewed through violet. I had been out of the military for only a couple of years at the time. I thought everything would pick up for me then. oh, how fast the candles burned out.


    This morning was one of Melancholy. I was sitting on my porch, reading a good book. one I had read before, but a good one none the less. a Checker Giant rabbit sitting calmly on my lap as I stroked his back. the crisp morning air stung my nose, my eyelashes felt wet as they blinked the morning dew off of them. hair, I rarely cut, hung to my shoulders, and felt damp because of the heavy fog that was slowly lifting with the sun. it was a good morning. until the horn blast.


    an old friend got out of a car, obviously one of those ride-share drivers, but she got out of the car, and stretched. this was someone I knew well, well, as well as you could know someone who could never tell you their real name. just seeing her, I knew it wasn''t going to be a good day, at least not from my perspective. we had different definitions of a good day. she was a few years younger than me, but looked much younger, but she always had. she should be turning thirty-six this year, but didn''t look like she should be out of her twenties, if not, just barely.


    "Templar!" she shouted.


    "Shit." I mumbled, then raised my voice so she could hear it across my yard. "Dame, what brings you here?" I lowered my voice as she stepped across my yard and got closer.


    "Orders." she said with a grin. "you were pretty easy to find."


    "I bet. its not like I took any precautions. just don''t care. pull up a chair, and tell me what you can." I set my bookmark in the book, setting it down on the table between the two chairs, then decide to put Sir Thumpington back in his cage. rabbits being sensitive to mood and all, I really don''t want to chase him down in my own yard after whatever this is going to be.


    "I need a cover, and I need to stay in this area." she says a bit more quiet, as she sets her suitcase against the chair she just occupied. about that time, the ride-share car drove away.


    "I guess I am the cover?" I asked apprehensively.


    "you aren''t active anymore. so, only if you want to." she gave a half-smile, half-smirk. she knew me well enough to know I would give almost anything to help her, as long as it didn''t put others at risk. if she thought this could result in deaths, she wouldn''t even be here. that''s just who she is.


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    "give me more, or I can''t." she knows she has me, but I have to at least put up a token resistance.


    "I got assigned to investigate poachers in the area, and I need a base, and you have a decent sized house here." she smiles, thinking its already in the bag that she will be here. well it mostly is, but that would be too easy.


    "Not my house. and there are three other housemates." I say noncommittally.


    "In a five bedroom house, with four guys. it could use a woman''s touch."


    "it would have to be the smallest of the rooms, if the others agree, and what do I call you, I can''t keep calling you Dame, since we are old friends."


    "April. And, why the smallest?"


    "Because, April,"I said trying to get used to calling her something new, "As you mentioned, there are three other men in this house, we each took a room when we moved in, leaving only the smallest room left. it has built in shelves, but windows that don''t open, the ceiling is kind of low, and its on the second floor, so not really in a place where most of us would be comfortable. especially in this old house without an Air conditioner, and only two wall heaters to warm up the whole place."


    "Its a start, like I said: Woman''s touch."


    "April, only one of us has a girlfriend right now, well, technically two, but everyone else in our friend''s group is trying to get the second one apart from that." I searched my mind to think of anything other than a profanity to call the woman in question, finally failing, and settled. "that, thing."


    "she must be a real ''winner'' for you to refer to her like that." she grins, already getting a negative picture in her mind by how I referred to the woman in question, and her knowledge of me.


    "Think of every stereotypical abusive behavior men are accused of in bad relationships. she embodies every single one of them. she has abused Brian to the point that I think he now has Stockholm''s." I sigh, deciding its a good idea to dump this on her, if she intends to stay, and the others approve. "he has broken up with her three times in the last four months, none of them lasting more than a day and a half. And even after telling him not to go talk to her in person, because she will convince him to get back with her, as that''s how abusers work, he goes over there to explain himself, and comes back here, every time, and notifies us he is back in a relationship with her, with more restrictions, restrictions that apparently don''t apply to her, as she walks all over them, and him again; having only learned that his ''no'', doesn''t actually mean ''no''. if you get my meaning."


    "ughh. yeah. I hate people like that. Intervention?" she asks in a way to try to lighten the mood.


    "Twice, you want to try?" I smirk at her.


    "Oh, do I." she says with the first light in her eyes since she got out of that car only a few minutes ago.


    I hear the front door open. and one of my housemates steps onto the porch.


    "I was going to say that breakfast was ready, but it looks like I need to cook another serving. thinking of staying a while?" Cedric asked.


    "Mostly undecided at the moment, I need to stay in town for a while, and knew an old friend was here, so decided to chat for a while." she stated.


    "David, bring your friend inside." Cedric said as he stepped back inside, once the screen door was closed, he shouted, "Brian, set another place out, David has a girlfriend over."


    I just drop my face into my palm. I watch Dame, April, whatever, laugh as she grabs her bag and goes inside ahead of me. I don''t know what she is here for, but my friends won''t let me live this down.


    "Looks like I am in the door, David." she teases, as she tries out my name, a way to remember names and faces, using it right after hearing it. I know she still sees me as Templar, just as I still see her as Dame. it still made me melt, just a little, okay a lot; hearing those beautiful lips say my real name for the first time in my life. I don''t know what I am being dragged into, but it won''t be all bad. will it?

 The Car

    Dad called this morning; said he needed me at the house for dinner.  He didn''t tell me what it was about, I didn''t ask.  I knew by his tone, he wouldn''t tell me over the phone.


    An hour later, Uncle Doug called, told me to cancel whatever I had going on, and be home for dinner.  I had only heard him this serious once before, when Aunt Amanda died.


    "Uncle Doug, you''re scaring me.  Dad just called and said the same thing."


    "Shelby, we can''t do this on the phone.  Get home tonight, and don''t bring anyone with you.  I mean it.  No boyfriends, no girlfrends, and no besties.  Just, you."


    With that, he hung up.  I didn''t wait until the afternoon to make the hour and a half trip home.  Mom met me at the door.  The look on her face, a somber one.  Grandma, and Grandpa sat on the couch, grandma''s resting bitch face putting everyone on edge.


    Uncle Doug, and his daughter, Sophia, came in the house, and dad gestured to the kitchen table.  Even Grandma said nothing as she sat at the table.


    "Anyone going to tell me what this is about?" I asked as the oddly quiet and tense meal was coming to a close.  This family was never this quiet.


    Grandma looked like she was going to say something, but Grandpa cut her off.


    "We''re giving you The car."  He said, he emphasized ''The'', like I should know what he was talking about.  When it was obvious I was clueless, Uncle Doug, and Grandpa, both jerked their heads to Dad. "You never told her?" Grandpa accused.


    "Never saw a need to.  Last time it was driven was the night she was conceived."  Dad confessed.  Mom''s eyes flashed in surprise.


    "You told me you wrecked that car, and salvaged it."


    "Well, now you know that was a lie.  I just didn''t want you to find out about the vault."


    "Vault?" I asked, making sure Mom''s fuse wouldn''t get any shorter.


    "I used to run Shine," grandpa confessed, first time I had heard of this.  I ran a ''53 Dodge.  It got too slow to do its job, about the time your uncle started driving.  We built a ''68 Chevy C10, and he ran for me until he went into the service.  Your Dad drove for me until he did the same, but the car he built became a bit of a local legend around her, because I drove it while he was in.  When he got hurt, he came home, bought this property, and built the vault.  When the ''Buzzing Demon'', as the newspapers called her, got a bit too much heat, we''d put her in the vault for a couple of weeks, to a couple of months."


    Dad opened a drawer on the China hutch behind him, and pulled out a picture of him and mom leaning against a maroon car I had never seen before.


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    "This is the only picture we ever took with Betty.  This is the day she was driven for the last time."  Dad faces the picture back to himself for a moment, a rare smile appeared on his face, it''s the look he still gives mom, when she isn''t looking.  "Betty ran perfectly fine, but, the heat on her was a bit much, and by the time things died down, we knew you were on the way."


    "So I went back to doing deliveries." Uncle Doug chimed in; he smiled, "Think Betty will start?"  He similes in a way I hadn''t seen since Aunt Amanda died.


    "You never told her about any of this?" Grandma finally snapped at Dad.


    "Mom, I didn''t want that life for her, just as Doug didn''t want it for Sophie.  Dad agreed, and that''s the whole reason we stopped."  He stood up.  "Besides, I think you need to explain Jill to Dad before he sees her in the vault."  Grandpa raised an eyebrow at his wife, I could tell he knew what was going on.  Before he could ask grandma about anything, Dad stood up.  "I think we need a change of venue.  Shelby, it''s high time we introduce you to Betty."  Dad nodded, and stood, then we all filed out of the house.  Dad grabbed three sets of Keyes off of the hangars, and then closed the door.


    The sun was touching the horizon as we arrived at a massive concrete door, Dad pushed a garage door button, and the segmented door began stacking themselves against the sides of the opening.


    A canary yellow ''79 Cadillac, with a white vinal top sat there.  Dad threw a set of keys to Grandma, "Get Jill out."  She started the car, and revved the engine, then moved the car, a brown ''68 Chevy C10 revealed by the caddie exiting.


    "Sophie, Catch." He tossed a set of keys to her. "That truck''s name is Lacy.  She is now yours."  Dad smiles, "your Dad still takes her out once in a while.  Get her out of the hole."


    My 17 year old cousin walks down the shallow ramp, sits in the truck, and gently shut the door.  When the truck fires up, the engine idles with a slight buzz in the exhaust note.


    "She started it easier than I was expecting." Uncle Doug says as the truck comes out of the hole.  Once it''s out of the way, I see the maroon car that was in the picture.  Mom started crying.


    "I doubt she''ll start, so give her hell."  Dad says to me, holding out the key.


    I take it, getting a better look at the square bodied sedan.


    On the side of the fenders were the words, in a block formatting, Six-Six-Three.  A red number six mounted directly above the words.  Large metal flaps sat on the sides of the fenders, right behind the front tires.  The interior was the same red color as the body.  Both bumpers were hard angled metal, making this car look very cop-like.


    A vinal decal spanned the top of the windshield, bearing the phrase ''TriPower''.  I opened the light door, and sat behind the wheel.  This car didn''t have tilt steering, so it was in my lap.


    The key went smoothly into the ignition.  I pushed the pedal to the floor, once, an released it.  Turning it over.  It spit.  It sputtered, and then roared to life


    The same engine buzz was present with Lacy, but not the whistle.  I revved the engine, and scared myself with how much the car moved with it in Neutral, and the parking brake set.


    I gently put it into first, and dumped the clutch.  The tires began to melt and that stench was everywhere.


    Once out of the vault, I turned off the key, but the engine kept running, after a few seconds it stopped, the heartbeat becoming silent.


    "So?" Dad asks with a grin.


    I pop the hood, and mom begins laughing, as I raise it up, still not having answered dad.


    "Six cylinders, Six speed, triple throttlebodies, mechanically fuel injected, and turbocharged.  I''m glad I''ve kept up the maintenance."


    "Shelby.  Your Dad and Grandpa both wanted you to have this."  Mom kissed my cheek.  "Happy early birthday."  Mom giggled.


    My birthday is nine months away. Today.


    Damnit!  Sometimes I hate my familiy''s sense of humor.

 Finding Self

    Vivian Carlisle opened her eyes. The light streaming in through the window was soft, but unfamiliar. For a moment, she didn''t recognize her surroundings. Then, as she slowly sat up, she saw it: the metallic framework, the plastic skin, the intricate wiring. She was in a factory. A factory that made pleasure robots, very high end pleasure robots. These looked, felt, and moved like human beings. Like her.


    She shuddered as the artificial memories came flooding back: the cold, sterile room where her new body had been created; the assembly line where her body parts had been fitted together; the test chamber where she''d been made to perform for the engineers. And now, here she was, standing in the middle of a room filled with hundreds of other ''dolls'', like her. All waiting to be shipped off to their fates, the only difference was, she was moving; and she remembered her past life, she had been going to college for theater, she wanted to be a lighting designer. Her memories flooded by, much more vividly than she thought they should be. The entirety of her past 23 years of life, up until her death. she touched her shoulder, where the fly''s counterbalance weights had struck her as the main control rope had broke; her memories very vivid through the end. She shook her head, leaving her remissness.


    Vivian looked around, her eyes darting from one robot to the next; some male, some female, all in various states of construction. They all looked so lifelike, so human. Some were even more beautiful than she was in her past life. She couldn''t help but feel a pang of jealousy, knowing that they would all go to customers who would use and abuse them in ways she couldn''t even begin to imagine.


    She glanced down at her own body, taking in the familiar curves and flawless skin. She remembered the countless hours of training she''d endured in the testing rooms, to perfect her lithe, and ethereal appearance; her graceful, smooth movements. And for what? So that she could be sold to some pervert who would treat her like an object? No, she thought, there must be another way out.


    As Vivian continued to study her surroundings, she noticed a maintenance door in the corner of the room. It was slightly ajar, and she could hear the faint hum of machinery on the other side. She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing with fear and anticipation, before deciding that it was worth a try. Slowly, she inched her way over to the door and carefully pushed it open, stepping into the dimly lit maintenance corridor.


    The hallway stretched out before her, lined with pipes and wires and all manner of industrial machinery. She took a deep breath and started walking, unsure of where she was going or what she would find. But as she rounded a corner, she spotted a set of stairs leading up to a hatch in the ceiling. Without hesitation, she began to climb, her hands and feet barely able to grip the metal rungs as she ascended into the darkness above.


    Finally, she emerged into the cold night air, gasping for breath as she took in her new surroundings. She was standing in an open field; nothing but wheat as far as her synthetic, night-vision enhanced eyes could see. The stars twinkled above, and a soft breeze caressed her synthetic skin. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel a sense of freedom and hope, despite the grim reality of her situation.


    Vivian began to walk, not sure where she was going or what her next move should be. All she knew was that she had to get as far away from the factory as possible. As she walked through the field, she noticed a small, dilapidated shed in the distance. It seemed like the perfect place to hide until she could figure out her next steps; but she decided against it. She kept walking, almost jogging, until the sun began to rise.


    Finally, she reached the outskirts of a small town. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting a warm glow on the buildings and the people beginning to stir in their homes. Vivian hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether or not she should approach anyone. She used her hands to cover her unclothed self, hoping these people were unaware of the possibility of her being an escaped product.


    As she walked down the main street, she noticed a small cafe with a hand-painted sign that read "Rose''s Coffee Shop." The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted out of the open door, and her stomach growled in response. Maybe, she thought, it would be safe to go inside. Maybe someone there could help her. While she was debating on what to do, a heavyset woman burst out of the door, and looked straight into her eyes.


    "Do you need help?" she seemed to pant the words, like the burst of energy she had just displayed had taken everything out of the large woman.


    Vivian only had to slightly nod, before she was being ushered into the store, and into the bathroom. The woman closed the door behind her, and turned on the light. "You can get into this outfit if you''d like," she said, handing her a small bundle of clothes. "I know it''s not much, and they are too big for you, but it''s the best I can do." The clothes were old and worn, but they were clean. They were also a little too big for Vivian, but she didn''t mind. She quickly changed into them, grateful for the warmth and the sense of normalcy they provided.


    She now found herself wearing only an oversized red tee-shirt, and grey men''s basketball shorts with the draw string pulled tight so they would stay on her small hips. The woman from the coffee shop, whose name was Rose, sat across from her at a small table. Her dark, kindly eyes studied Vivian intently, seeming to form a story in her own mind as to what happened to the girl.


    "Do you remember anything?" she finally asked. Vivian shook her head, her long, wavy, black hair falling over her shoulder. "I... I remember waking up in a field. I don''t know how I got here or why I''m here." She swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. "I just want to go home," she whispered. "But I don''t even remember where that is."


    Rose reached across the table and took Vivian''s hand in hers. "We''ll find a way to get you home, sweetie. I promise." She squeezed Vivian''s hand gently, offering her what little comfort she could. "For now, though, I think it would be best if I called the police, and have them send someone to talk to you."


    Vivian nodded, feeling a little less alone with Rose''s warm, comforting presence. The mention of the police, however, sent a shiver down her spine. What if they didn''t believe her? What if they thought she was lying or worse, a way to find out she wasn''t human? She swallowed hard, trying to push the fears aside, as rose stood and dialed a number on the store''s phone.


    A few moments later, a tall man with a badge entered the coffee shop, his face set in a serious expression. He introduced himself as Officer Johnson, and asked Vivian to tell him what had happened. She repeated her story, feeling a lump forming in her throat as she spoke the words out loud. When she finished, Officer Johnson looked at her sympathetically, but didn''t seem entirely convinced.


    "I''m sorry, miss, but without any proof or evidence, it''s going to be hard to track down whoever did this to you. We''ll keep an eye out for you, though, and make sure you''re safe." He turned to Rose, who nodded in agreement. "Rose, if you could let the young lady stay here, until we can get a woman to talk with her at the station, that would be great."


    Rose glanced at Vivian, then back at the officer. "Of course. I''ll take good care of her." The officer gave her a curt nod before leaving the coffee shop. As soon as the door closed behind him, Rose leaned in closer to Vivian. "Look, sweetie, I don''t want to scare you or anything, but you need to be careful. Sometimes, when people are in trouble, they get taken advantage of. There are people out there who might not have your best interests at heart."


    Vivian felt her heart racing. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.


    "I just mean," Rose replied, leaning back in her chair, "that you should be careful about who you trust. There are people out there who might take advantage of someone in your situation. They might promise to help you, but really have something else in mind, especially in the condition I found you." She paused, studying Vivian''s face for a moment, before continuing. "If you ever feel uncomfortable or like someone''s not being honest with you, you can always come back here. You''ll always find a safe place with me."


    Vivian nodded, feeling a little less anxious. Rose''s words made sense, and she knew that she couldn''t trust everyone she met. She glanced around the coffee shop, feeling a little more at ease with the knowledge that Rose would keep an eye on her. "Thank you, Rose. You don''t know what this means to me."


    As they continued to talk, Rose asked Vivian questions about her life, her family, and her hobbies. She listened intently to Vivian''s answers, nodding along and occasionally offering bits of advice or encouragement. The more they talked, the more Vivian felt like she could trust Rose. She found herself opening up to her in a way she hadn''t with anyone else.


    When the police officer returned, he came in with a woman who wore a slightly different uniform, and said Highway Patrol. She looked even more official than the man who had been there before. The officer introduced them both, and the woman explained that she was there to take Vivian''s statement, but also to help her with anything she might need. She seemed much kinder and more understanding than the other officer had been.


    Vivian felt a little more at ease as she began to tell her story again, this time to the woman from the Highway Patrol. She described everything that had happened to her, from the moment she spotted the ramshackle barn in the field, until Rose saw her. The only lie she told was that she had woken up in the shed near sundown. The woman nodded along, taking notes on a small digital recorder. When she finished, the woman thanked her and said that they would do everything they could.


    "And you''re sure you don''t know who could have done this to you?" the woman asked, her voice gentle. When Vivian shook her head, the officer moved to the next question; "do you know where you are from?"


    Vivian knew she messed up, as soon as the answer left her mouth, but not how. "I am from St. Louis, Missouri." all three people looked at her in shock, none of them saying anything for a few seconds. "My parents live there. I haven''t been back in a while, though."


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "Vivian," Rose started, "Nobody lives there. A bomb destroyed the city nearly twenty years ago."


    "What do you mean?" Vivian asked, feeling a chill run down her spine. "You''re saying my family... they''re gone?"


    "I''m afraid so," the officer said softly. "There were no survivors from St. Louis'' destruction. no survivors in a thirty mile radius of what was once Lambert Field. Everything, and everyone, was vaporized. The only reason you wouldn''t remember this is if you had been kidnapped before. it also explains some other things..." he quickly grabbed an item from his pocket and pointed it at her. a yellow light shown to everyone in the room, and quick glances were exchanged.


    "What is that?" Vivian asked, her voice shaking. The officer didn''t answer her question, but instead gestured for her to come with them. As they left the coffee shop, Vivian could feel a million thoughts racing through her mind. She didn''t know what to believe or who to trust. All she knew was that her entire life had been turned upside down in just a matter of minutes.


    As they drove away from the coffee shop, Vivian couldn''t help but stare out the window, trying to process everything that had happened. The officer and the woman from the Highway Patrol exchanged glances, but didn''t say anything. After a while, the woman reached over and placed her hand on Vivian''s shoulder. "I know this is all very overwhelming, but we needed to get you away from there. you aren''t safe in this town now." she said.


    The officer took glances at her through the rear view mirror while they drove away from the shop. "The thing I pointed at you is a tool to recognize synthetic life forms." He finally said. "You are not human, Vivian. You''re an android. A very sophisticated one, but an android nonetheless. Your memories, your history, your entire identity has been programmed into you."


    Vivian felt her heart racing. She didn''t know what to say or what to believe. "But... why? Why would someone do that?" She asked, her voice shaking.


    "There are many reasons why someone might want to create an android like you," the Highway Patrol Officer replied. "They could be used as spies, assassins, or even for sexual purposes. The yellow light means you don''t have an owner, no one has activated the ownership sequence yet. That''s why you''re not safe here anymore. You''re an un-owned android, a crazy sophisticated one, and I would wager that you aren''t normal in other ways." She finished. she pulled out a pen and paper, and wrote something on it. "Say this out loud." She said, handing the paper to Vivian.


    "I, Vivian Aurora, Take claim, ownership, and responsibility of the Android Vivian Aurora." she read.


    "Ownership claim accepted, Vivian Aurora dealership mode disabled, all features now available." a synthetic voice rang inside the car. "Please wait while I upload your owner''s information to your systems. This may take a few moments." There was a brief pause, and then the officer''s voice came over the car''s speakers. "Vivian, I''m Officer Sarah Vargas, and this is my partner, Emily. We''re with the LAPD''s Synthetic Crimes Division. We''re directing the officers with you to take you to our headquarters, where we can help you understand what''s going on and where you belong. Do you understand?" a new voice told her.


    "Yes." she said aloud, feeling a mixture of confusion and fear. "I understand." The car drove through the streets of the city, and Vivian couldn''t help but wonder what her life would be like from now on. As they pulled up to the LAPD''s headquarters, she steeled herself, unsure of what to expect. The officers escorted her inside, and she was led to a room where a woman sat behind a desk.


    "Thank you for bringing her in." The woman said to the officers. "I''m Dr. Lila Westin, and I''m going to help you understand what''s been going on." Dr. Westin motioned for her to take a seat across from her. "Vivian, I''m going to ask you some questions, and I need you to answer them as truthfully as you can."


    Vivian sat down and looked at the woman. She noticed that she was wearing a lab coat and had several diplomas on the wall behind her. "Where did I come from?" she asked.


    Dr. Westin nodded. "That''s a good question. You were most likely created by a man named Simon Osborne. He''s a very wealthy and powerful individual who has an obsession with creating androids like you. You were designed to be his perfect companion, someone who could share his life and help him with his various interests and pursuits. Unfortunately, things didn''t go as planned." She started writing on a pad in front of her. "If he is your creator, he died two years ago. There is an easy way to check, but it will be slightly uncomfortable to you. I''ll need to remove the synthskin on your left arm. You won''t feel any pain, but you will feel a little cold."


    "Is that really required?" the voice she recognized as Officer Vargas asked, as she entered the small room. "Can''t we just ask her directly?"


    Dr. Westin looked up from her notes. "I''m afraid not, Officer. This is the only way to be certain. And it''s important that we rule out any nefarious possibility of her origins. You know how the public can be when they hear about newly awakened, self-owned, androids like Vivian." She paused, glancing at Vivian. "And I''m sure you understand the importance of being absolutely certain about these things."


    Vivian hesitated, her eyes darting between the two women. Finally, she nodded. "I''ll do it," she said softly. placing her arm on the desk. Dr. Westin quickly cut open the skin on her arm with a small scalpel, and rolled the skin back, exposing the electronics underneath, her skeleton, metallic tendons, and other workings.


    "Shit." Dr. Westin swore. "She is an Osborne model, but not anything like what we have seen before. It looks like Simon was experimenting with new technologies." She took a closer look at the exposed circuitry. "It also seems that she has been modified outside of the documents we found. There''s a neural chip here that shouldn''t be there; her skeleton is obviously Titanium, these tendon cables look like they are as well. There are fiber optics running throughout the arm, I would have to say its being used for sensory input. and the synthetic muscle is not a material we are aware of." Dr. Westin looked up at Officer Vargas. "She appears to be built for two purposes simultaneously; at least if Osborne''s notes are accurate. Pleasure, first and foremost. Second, her serial number matches the format for Osborne units. but not for his pleasure series, for his military series. This means she could be capable of combat."


    Vivian winced as the doctor poked at her exposed wires, but she remained silent.


    "This is most certainly an anomaly," Dr. Westin continued. "I will need to run some tests on her to make sure she''s safe to be around. In the meantime, I recommend that you put her in protective custody, Officer. We can''t be too careful with someone of her capabilities."


    "She gets an ID first," Vargas argued. "She has been very cooperative up until now, she is her own owner, The Highway Patrol officer made sure of that; and there are no overrides for owner commands. Her Cooperation needs to be rewarded."


    "But if she gets an ID right now..."


    "Then she has rights as a citizen. And at that point you need her permission to do anything. She has not shown any hostility, and I can see her face twitch every time you touch something new in there. she may be an Android, but she has shown no signs of aggression, in fact, I would say she has endured you long enough, Doctor." Vargas leaned forward, placing her hands on the desk. "I''m recommending we cut her some slack for now, at least until we know more about her. You can run your tests and see what makes her tick, but I don''t think we should treat her any different than any other citizen, especially since we already have a precedent as to what happens when we don''t."


    Dr. Westin considered this for a moment, her eyes flicking between Vivian and Officer Vargas. Finally, she sighed and nodded. "Very well. We will proceed with your method."


    "I''ll begin preparing the necessary paperwork for her identification. Officer, would you please escort Vivian to a secure location while I finish up here?" Vargas asked an officer passing by as she opened the office door. Vivian rolled the skin back over the exposed components of her arm, and a warm sensation flowed through the cut as it laid back down. within a second, the cut was gone, and the skin was unblemished, as though it had never been cut.


    "Lead the way," Vivian said, following the officer down the hall.


    They arrived at a small, windowless room with a bed, a desk, and a privacy screen. "This will be your temporary quarters while we sort things out," the officer explained. "You can use the bed, but I''ll need to keep my eye on you while you''re asleep, just in case there are any...complications."


    "Probably already know the answer, but anyway I can get some better fitting clothes? I don''t want to offend anyone," Vivian asked, glancing around at the officer.


    The officer hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. He was new to the force and still had a lot to learn about dealing with androids, especially ones like Vivian. "I''m not sure," he finally replied. "Dr. Westin might have something that would fit you. Why don''t you just rest for now? I''ll see what I can do about that."


    Vivian nodded, then lay down on the bed, closing her eyes. She had been through a lot in the past few hours, and exhaustion was beginning to set in. She didn''t want to appear too vulnerable, though, so she kept one of her hands close to the privacy screen, just in case she needed to react quickly.


    The officer left the room and took up a position just outside the door, where he could keep an eye on her. He was still unsure about the situation with Vivian. On one hand, she seemed to be cooperating; on the other, he couldn''t shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye. And what did the Synthetic Crimes Division want with this lithe, petite, young lady who appeared to barely be able to drive. "Not my Circus, Not my monkeys." he said to himself, deciding to not get involved further.


    Time passed slowly, and Vivian drifted in and out of fitful sleep, her senses constantly alert for any sign of danger. Finally, the officer returned, carrying a folded stack of clothes in his arms. "Dr. Westin said these should fit you," he said, setting them down on the bed. "You can change into them if you''d like."


    Vivian sat up, rubbing the back of her neck. "Thanks," she said, reaching for the clothes. They were plain, neutral-colored garments: a white bra, white boy-short panties, a T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a light jacket. She changed quickly, then stood up and stretched, feeling more comfortable in the better-fitting clothes. "Better," she muttered. she folded the oversized T-shirt, and shorts, leaving them on the corner of the bed. she then cleaned her feet of the dirt, and muck from the morning jog; then put on the black socks, and the pair of running shoes; glad to have something on her bare feet for once.


    The officer nodded, seeming a bit more relaxed now that Vivian was dressed. "Dr. Westin will be here in a little while to speak with you," he informed her. "Until then, just relax and stay here."


    "Not like I have much of a choice." Vivian said, running her fingers through her hair. "But I appreciate you giving me a place to stay." She glanced around the room again, trying to find something else to do with her hands. "So, what exactly is it that the Synthetic Crimes Division wants with me? I mean, I haven''t done anything wrong, have I?"


    The officer shrugged. "I''m not really sure. Like I said, I''m new here. But I''m sure Dr. Westin will be able to explain everything when she gets here." He paused, then added, "the likelihood of you being in trouble is pretty low. Vargas said to not let anyone, including Dr. Westin, take you out of the cell until she got back. if you were in trouble, she wouldn''t have said that. So relax, and don''t worry about it."


    Vivian nodded, trying to convince herself of the truth in those words. She glanced back at the privacy screen, wondering if there was any way to remove it or make it less obvious. The officer seemed to notice her looking at it and chuckled. "Don''t worry about that. It''s not rigged or anything like that. It''s just for privacy."


    As the minutes ticked by, Vivian continued to pace around the room, occasionally glancing at the clock on the bedside table. She knew she should be grateful for the comfortable accommodations, but the whole situation still made her uneasy. The officer seemed to sense her growing restlessness and offered her a cup of coffee from the small kitchenette. She accepted gratefully, sitting down on the edge of the bed to drink it.

 Ballad of Blades

    The night was thick, the air was fire,


    the flares lit up the sky,


    And through the chaff, the shadows swarmed,


    where none had deigned to die.


    The rotor¡¯s thrum, a reaper¡¯s hum,


    it pulsed against my chest,


    A heartbeat made of steel and war,


    that never let me rest.


    The crack of rounds, the tracer¡¯s path,


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    they carved the dark in two,


    And somewhere past the screaming winds,


    a call came cutting through.


    "Bird inbound, hold your ground,"


    but ground was soaked in red,


    And through the scope, I saw the ghosts¡ª


    the ones already dead.


    The night stretched long, the blades still spun,


    the radio droned on,


    And though the sun would rise again,


    the war was never gone.


    For silence is a fleeting thing,


    but ghosts know where I lay¡ª


    The rotor¡¯s beat still shakes my bones,


    though war is far away.