Justin’s Comments (group member since Mar 13, 2016)

Justin’s comments from the Science Fiction Microstory Contest group.

The Caretaker

Hadrian Falk awoke with a start at the sound of his alarm. The tone was calm and soothing, but it did little to quell his instant fear and anxiety. A quick glance at the sensors showed full, unfiltered sunlight bathing his box with golden light and that took the edge off.

Good, he thought to himself. At least that should make things easier today. He slid off his rack, feet recoiling at the cold floor and grabbed his silver-coated titanium staff. Standing in the middle of the room, he ran through his morning exercises and forms. Nothing could have possibly penetrated his box, but the staff whistling around his body would confirm it. If it made contact, he would know instantly.

Nothing.

Another alarm sounded and he heard the massive bolts that secured the only door into the box slide back. He could now go outside until 1600 hours. If he failed to return before then, he would be stranded outside the box after sundown and his chances for survival would be very slim indeed. He looked over at the sliver-coated armor hanging on the wall next to a red digital countdown clock. It was time to get to work.
***

Falk’s armor gleamed with golden radiance in the full morning sun. From a distance, he blended in with the rest of the colony’s robots and automates who were busy going about their pre-programmed business. Damage from the previous night was efficiently cleaned up and repaired. Most of it was glass from street-level storefronts, but some was structural. A few small fires had broken out but were rapidly extinguished. Through his helmet’s heads-up display and various filters, he could see the deep scars on every building that were invisible to the naked eye.

Falk sighed.

They’ve been busy, he thought to himself.
Status reports from various automated systems scrolled before his eyes. Only one caught his eye. Only one mattered.
“Impossible!” he said to himself, but there it was.
He spun his staff 360 degrees as he surveyed the area not far from the box. It was a nervous habit, but one that had served him well. It caught the unsuspecting with lethal results.
He reread the report.

LIFE SIGN DETECTED.

COLONIAL TRANSPONDER ACTIVATED.

His helmet’s integrated pathfinder system plotted the shortest path from his current location to the transponder. Horizontally the distance from the box was short. Vertically was another story.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

He checked the time and made some quick mental calculations. It was going to be tight.
***

Falk overrode the building’s power-saving mode and brought it back to full operational status. Full lights, both standard and ultraviolet, flooded the empty corridors. It did little to reassure him. Stepping into the lift, he selected sublevel five, then stood in the middle of the car with his staff held vertically along the front of his body. This was risky, but it was his job as the colonial Caretaker. Through his visor he could see that they had been in the lift. The signs were everywhere. The car was too small to spin his staff, so he probed the air with one end like a blind man.

It's a trap.

Of course it’s a trap, but it’s a colonial transponder.

Everyone was evacuated and accounted for.

Errors have been made before.

You’re going to die down here.

Shut up!

The lift finally reached sublevel five after what felt like an eternity, and the door slid open to reveal cold, impenetrable darkness.
***

Falk hesitated in the lift, then took a few tentative steps into the inky black. His armor’s exterior lights came up automatically, punching a hole through the dark. His visor display showed the transponder only a few meters ahead. He brought his staff up, arms extending it as far forward as possible. He heard nothing and saw nothing, but knew it was a lie his limited human senses were feeding him. They were absolutely here. Pressure increased and decreased at various points along his armor, looking for weaknesses, seeking any access to the sustenance within. The red corpuscles they craved were so close and yet so inaccessible within the silver that burned and killed them.

The corridor opened into a larger space with a reception console fixed at its center. Falk found the space reassuring. He could swing his staff unimpeded and in full fury. On the reception console sat a colonial transponder, alone, unattached, but active.
Falk braced his legs and began to swing.

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2022
Reviews/critiques welcome

Sorry to hear that Jot! Get better my friend!

GREAT story Tom. I felt like I was in the bar. I could smell and taste it. Outstanding!!!

A great story!!! Nice work Jot!

Sorry friends, I simply procrastinated and had most of my free time this month absorbed by my most recent audiobook production. I had half a story written but had a hard time going anywhere with it. :(
On to next month!

Just not going to finish mine. My brain has melted!

Really enjoyed the idea of the flowers becoming humanoid. You pulled it off well sir!

Outstanding as always Paula! :)

Water always wins

Ambassador Phellend Kell staggered from the burning wreckage of his escape pod, dazed, dirty, and dying. His right hand, held tightly against his abdomen, was covered in blue blood. It spilled upon the ground and was greedily absorbed by the nutrient poor soil. Kell did not notice this as he sought only to get away from the burning pod. His attaché case remained firmly manacled to his left arm, its antique paper documents hanging out through damaged seals. Kell stumbled, staggered, and somehow kept moving, knowing that each step might be his last. He hoped, no prayed, that the emergency locator beacon was still intact and that Regency forces might find the precious documents he carried – before it was too late.
The treaty documents were all that mattered now, but Time was the enemy here, not Death.
If the Chronix did not receive these specific sheets of paper, blessed, sanctified and made holy, at the time agreed to, the war would continue unabated to the detriment of both their peoples. Kell was trying to prevent the extinction of two species, but he saw opportunity slipping away with each splash of blue blood upon the ground. His blood.
He turned to watch a plume of black smoke swirling into the sky, followed by another explosion. Hope dimmed in his heart. Would they come for him? Of all the places he could have crashed, why did it have to be here on this forbidden, waste of a planet?
Kell’s breathing became labored, coughs and spasms racked his body, and thirst, overwhelming thirst tortured what little of his life remained.
Cresting a gentle rise, he looked through blurry, diming vision. A placid pool under a stand of small trees sat tranquilly a short distance away.
He could… he could…
He could not.
Ambassador Phellend Kell fell face first into the dirt, just shy of the water’s edge, and died. As he lay there, lifeforce ebbing to maximum entropy, the pool rippled and began moving towards him. Tentative, watery fingerlets reached out to Kell’s lifeless arms, probing, prodding, trying to understand. A more thorough examination was needed. The rest of the pool followed in a flurry of small white-capped waves, and in an instant, Ambassador Kell’s body was subsumed beneath them. From the new shoreline, an observer would have seen the Ambassador’s body in the center of a shallow pond, along with his attaché case and now soggy, hallowed, time-sensitive treaty documents.

***
The water entered the Ambassador’s body through every orifice it could find. In through the nose and mouth, ears, and especially the abdominal wounds. What was this thing? Reaching into the brain cavity, it found the last vestiges of life fading away. It felt all of the pain, sorrow, anguish and burdens as the cells released their final claim to conscious existence.
More understanding was needed.
To understand better, it would disassemble.
The lifeless body of the Ambassador began breaking down rapidly. Skin, fatty layers, connective tissues, muscles, bones, every last cell and even the attaché case and treaty documents.
So much information!
It would reproduce it in exact detail.
Every last brain pattern reenergized.
Every calligraphic stroke upon the parchment.
Even the ambassadorial uniform.
Damaged tissue was recreated anew.
Respiration was needed!
The new body broke the surface of the pond, gasping for breath.
This was strange!
This was different!
But wait…
Haste was needed.
Other lives hung in the balance.
More would end, like this one had.
Many, many more.
What was the mission?
He had to get to…
He collected up the newly formed documents.
The words were important.
The words meant life.
Would they make the sacrifice to remain as documents, holy and blessed, that others might live?
Yes.
Together, they would bring life out of death.

***
Ambassador Phellend Kell heard the roar of the rescue ship and strode purposefully towards it.
A young Regency captain ran towards him.
“Ambassador Kell! Thank the gods! We thought you were dead!”
“And I thought so too young man, but here I stand. We must not tarry! The Chronix await this treaty and I am already very late!”
“Our ship is fast and the crew is ready. We will be at the rendezvous on time Ambassador!”
The captain turned and ran back into the ship with the Ambassador close behind.
As the Ambassador crossed the airlock threshold, he turned and saw a small pond rippling nearby.
He broke into a broad smile and waved.
“Goodbye! And thank you!”

(749 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2022
Reviews/critiques welcome

J.F. wrote: "J.F. wrote: "Justin, I listened to a few of the videos and you have quite a good narrating voice, like PBS-level.

By "PBS-level" I mean well-modulated, not overly dramatic but not a monotone."

Thanks J.F.! Just read chapter 1 of your book. Great world building!

Thanks J.F.! Hopefully PBS does not equal boring! :) I've picked up your book for my Kindle and will dig into it. The premise is intriguing.

Thanks again, much appreciated!

JSS

J.F. wrote: "I'm quite interested in the whole audiobook thing, Justin, as my sister has never finished reading my novel because she prefers audiobooks while driving. (Her husband finally read it in two days af..."

Hi J.F.!

There are a couple places you can hear my audio samples. I'll point you to my Soundcloud page first:

https://soundcloud.com/user-368674090...

This includes all my ACX and studio work (had a streak of medical booklets as you can see). I had the privilege of narrating one of Jack McDaniel's books (Purple Hearted Man).

My website justinsewall.com has most of the same samples, but I need to update my site to include some of my newest work.

Additionally, here are some videos I have narrated for one of my ACX book clients (this is an ongoing project). I did not do the video, just the narration:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhNFC...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=013an...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rAGR...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0d7N...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LI4EH...

Please tell me the title of your book so I can look it up. If I can answer any questions about audiobooks, just let me know!

Thanks J.F.!

Tom wrote: "Justin wrote: "Great stories so far everyone. It's always amazing to me how many different directions these ideas go.

Also wanted to share I'm currently working on my latest audiobook, called "Tre..."

Thanks Tom, much appreciated!! Still have to get my story in!

Great stories so far everyone. It's always amazing to me how many different directions these ideas go.

Also wanted to share I'm currently working on my latest audiobook, called "Treaty of War", through Amazon's ACX platform. It will be my longest audiobook yet at 8.8 hours. It's a Tom Clancy-esque spy thriller, so that's why it interested me.

I hope everyone is doing well!

Nice one Kalifer!

Jeremy wrote: ""Initiate start sequence"

Only, it's in English."

Thank you! It was driving me crazy!!!! Great story - even if I couldn't translate!

Okay, I'm dumb. I cannot figure out what the last words on the parchment are: Ee nish ee ayte. Zstaat. Zee kvensss.”

Initiate ???

Please translate for my reptilian brain!!

Thanks!

Tom wrote: "Justin wrote: "So sorry to hear about this. I think a lot of these losses feel more raw perhaps than before - at least for me, considering all that we've been through - and continue to go through. ..."

Thanks Tom, much appreciated.

So sorry to hear about this. I think a lot of these losses feel more raw perhaps than before - at least for me, considering all that we've been through - and continue to go through. I'm frustrated by everything I see in Ukraine and my desire to help in the face of very overwhelming pain, suffering and misery. So news like this just feels like salt in the wound.

Thaddeus! Best wishes in your new job! I'm sure you will continue being fantastic!

My condolences for your losses and tough times.

Best,

Justin