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

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

I agree Kalifer. My Ray Bradbury story compendium is so different in content, style, etc. than my Asimov and Clarke ones.

LOL! This is true!

Pirates of the Malleteans

Captain Julian Esperanto sat on the bridge of the garbage scow S.S. Lamprey. The dim lighting matched his melancholy as he thought about the dead end his career had taken. Once a promising graduate of the Fleet Academy, he had watched helplessly as opportunity deserted him like a faithless lover. Now he was stuck hauling toxic waste between Vella Prime and its colonies in an obsolete transport. He slouched further down into his tattered seat and took a short pull from his tarnished Academy flask.

“Status Mr. Munoz.”

“Aye Captain. We are on course for Vella La Vella. ETA 1420 hours local time. The traffic pattern is clear, no other ships detected.”

“Right,” said Esperanto, dribbling slightly. “Our sensors couldn’t detect an asteroid directly in front of us – but thank you. Engineering?”

“Yes Skipper. All drive systems are nominal, but the starboard engine pylon needs an overhaul after we land.”

“Again? I thought you fixed that.”

“Yes sir, I did. But if I may remind the Captain…”

“No you may not. Contact the yardmaster and make sure everything is waiting for us. I don’t want to spend any longer dirtside than necessary.”

“Yes Captain, right away.”

Mr. Munoz shared a look with the engineer. No shore leave – again!!

***

The Vella Prime beauty pageant was the most widely attended event of its kind in the quadrant. Lovely males, females and various transgendered species came from near and far to compete for fame and lucrative modeling contracts. Broadcast rights alone were worth quintillions to whichever network was lucky enough to win them, easily offsetting the cost of any bribes.

Unfortunately, this concentration of perfect beauties raised the ire, irritation and wrath of the Malleteans – sworn blood enemies of the Vellans. Despite the best efforts of the Vellan Navy, Malletean marauders, malcontents and corsairs of every stripe descended on the shipping lanes between Vella Prime and her outworld colonies to prey upon the ships transporting starry-eyed contestants. The same lanes travelled by the luckless S.S. Lamprey.

***

“Captain.”

“Hmph?” Esperanto felt the warmth of a comfortable buzz coming on. Wonderful stuff that Vellan absinth…

“Captain!”

Esperanto bolted upright. “What?!”

“We’re picking up a distress call. It’s the Vellan luxury liner Transcendent Bliss. She’s under attack.”

“Give me details.”

“Hard to say sir at this range, but it sounds like…”

“Spit it out man!”

“It’s the Pirates of the Malleteans!”

Esperanto stood up, swaying ever so slightly. This was it! This was his chance! A plan formed in his absinth addled head.

“Mr. Munoz, plot an intercept course. Flank speed. Go to 110 percent on the reactor.”

“Captain?! But, but… the starboard pylon.”

“Damn the pylon and flank speed ahead! Battle stations! Charge all weapons!”

“Asteroid removal cannon energized Captain,” reported the engineer meekly.

Mr. Munoz, Comms and the engineer all shook their heads: They were going to die without any shore leave.

***
The malevolent Malleteans herded their captured bevy of beauties towards the Transcendent’s dorsal airlock. They traded crude barbs, and made even cruder remarks at the expense of their sobbing captives, unaware of the toxic mess hurdling towards them.

Suddenly, a flash of light flooded the Transcendent’s view ports as the S.S. Lamprey exited hyperspace directly off their port bow.

“A rescue ship!” cheered one green-skinned woman.

“Bah! That’s just a garbage scow!” retorted the Malletean captain in disdain. His opinion of the interloper was confirmed as blasts from its asteroid cannon bounced harmlessly off his own raider’s hull.

“Get this bounty of booties onto the ship men! Now!” He fired his plasma pistol over their heads to motivate them.

While the Malletean captain was distracted with his pretty prizes, he failed to see the S.S. Lamprey live up to its name. The ugly ship attached itself to the raider’s hull, penetrated its aft airlock and proceeded to release millions of liters of toxic waste into its engine bay.

“My ship!” The Malletean roared. “Back to the ship!” Their tentacles waving furiously, the pirates scurried back to their now contaminated raider and its deadly parasite. After attempting to enter hyperspace, their entire ship exploded as the Lamprey’s starboard engine pylon failed catastrophically.

Captain Esperanto and his crew exited their cramped escape pod through a different airlock and were greeted by the beautiful green-skinned woman.

“Thank you for saving us Captain,” she said warmly. “Would you and your crew like to join us for the remainder of our journey?”

The crew of the former S.S. Lamprey shouted in unison, “Shore leave!!”

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2018
Reviews/critiques welcome

Jack! So nice to see your entry, and I really liked it!

C. wrote: "My story is up. Hope you find it amusing.

-C"

I find your story completely lacks honor you miserable to'pah!

LOL!

Funny story C!

Chris wrote: "So, mine's up. Not really convinced I got the "comedic" element, but that's always been a weakness of mine. No sense of humor. ;)

My personal writing is often the space opera type adventure, so t..."

I liked it!

I think you and Paula both drink from the same well of creativity. :) Great work!

THIS CALLS FOR TEQUILA!

The finest tequila!

Astral.

Tequila.

(watch the ads on Youtube...)

It has certainly helped with my business writing at Boeing. Cut, cut, cut, and cut.

Tom wrote: "Critique by Justin of -- "A Comfortable Extinction" by Justin

A very enjoyable and unusual domestic trek through the wilds of time.

A husband and wife are the last "temporally fixed" humans in a ..."

Thank you very much Tom for taking the time to review my story. I've been remiss in being able to critique others, so your work on mine, and everyone else's stories is greatly appreciated!

Chris, great reviews of the other stories as well.

Good feedback from you both for the rest of us.

Thanks Tom! Much appreciated!!

Marianne,

Clearly you are operating on a different plane of thought and existence than the rest of us mere mortals! Great story!

You and Paula do wonders with streams-of-consciousness, non-linear plots and just plain old creativity.

Nicely done!

Just posted mine!

A Comfortable Extinction

When my wife pushed a small box across the table at breakfast, I knew it was finally time.

“Really?” I asked, slightly skeptical. I looked over the top of my antique newspaper. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“Really – and I’m not joking. I’m serious this time. I’m done. Just done.”

“What made you change your mind? We have everything here.”

“And that’s the problem – everything. If I’m not fighting off knights from the Crusades, it’s imperial Japanese warlords with their hired Ronin. Not to mention the Velociraptors.”

“Again with the raptors,” I said, between bites of perfectly synthesized bacon and eggs.

“Look, if you’d just take PATS with you,”

“I don’t want that thing clanking along next to me when I want to go for a quiet walk on the beach. It invariably targets something and goes all Terminator. No, I want to be able enjoy my time alone as the last woman on Earth without that ambulatory Gatling gun.”

She was not to be dissuaded.

***
We were the last two temporally fixed humans on Earth and had been for centuries. That is to say, we were the only ones in our proper timeline. The interlopers from the past never lasted long. They could not, but they kept coming and interrupting our peace and quiet.

With the perfection of gate technology, most of Earth’s population decided to spread out across time and space. Oh sure, there were a few diehards like us, sticking to our own temporal track. But as the years stretched out before us, more and more of them said their good-byes and stepped through a gate, never to be seen again.

We lacked for nothing, of course. Everything was automated, even the self-driving cars kept driving their endless, pre-programmed loops throughout our metropolis. Destruction and debris caused by temporal incursions was meticulously cleaned up, hauled away and recycled.

At first it was an intoxicating experience for us both. We finally had the time to pursue our individual interests, hobbies and passions. We’d gone through the Kama Sutra several times, created artistic masterpieces in every medium known to man and composed music that stirred the soul.

Every day was a new adventure, and science and medicine kept us in perfect health.

And yet. And yet. Here we were. At the end. My wife pushing a small box across the breakfast table towards me.

***
I suppose it was the way she looked at me that defeated my resolve. That, and we both knew the sun was already beginning to expand in its old age. Yet there was still some time before everything turned to ash.

“Consider it an act of charity for the one you love the most,” she added, reaching across the table for my hand.

“Yes of course love. Of course.” It was not what I had expected, being a man who enjoyed his routines, and the finality of it all was beginning to sink in.

“I’m afraid sweetheart.”

“I am too.”

I retrieved my own small box and handed it to her.

“Let’s go.”

***
The gate was quiet and still, save for the small control panels on each leg of its obsidian black arch. I took my key from around my neck and inserted it into the right panel. My wife did the same on the left.

“Ready on my mark in three, two, one, turn…”

Instantaneously, raw temporal energy erupted in a violent fit of electric blue that bucked against the gate’s powerful containment field until it stabilized into a placid, rippling pool.

“Do you know the date?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“How could I forget?” I tried to project confidence as we both stood before the gate’s shimmering chronotons.

For the briefest moment, I saw anguish and doubt pass over her face. Then it was gone, replaced by acceptance and peace.

“I’m ready now.” She gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

As we stepped through, I turned to face her.

“See you soo……”

***
I first noticed her the moment she stepped out of the temporal physics lab. She struck me as the beautiful, intellectual type, yet for some reason I felt an instant connection I could not explain.

Before I could even formulate an excuse to talk to her, a large dromaeosaur burst out of the doors behind her. It hissed and roared at its strange surroundings, then focused its rage on the woman. Time slowed as I ran to save her.

(749 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2018
Reviews/critiques welcome

Me too. Don't know why. Frustrating!

Wow! Some great entries so far! Outstanding!

Great story Jon! Good work!

Tom wrote: "Critique by Tom Olbert of -- "Deus Ex Interview" by Justin

Hey Tom! Thanks for reviewing my story! Initially I had Alexa, Siri and Cortana all involved but the story ran long. There was a sentence about the three digital assistants conspiring against him, but it was cut due to word count. That's why the name changed because he was addressing the two different ones for two different tasks: Alexa for the shower and Siri for his suit.

I did leave the job purposefully vague, although I had thought about making him some kind of receptionist. Basically, he would have been the human face for the machines and answering the last few phone calls made by real people.

Anyway, good feedback which I sincerely appreciate!!

Best,

Justin

Good story Jot!

Mine has been posted as well.

I've been having a hard time coming up with ideas early on. They really have to marinate in my mind for awhile, especially these past several. Maybe it's just because my brain cells are getting further apart...

Deus Ex Interview

“Good morning John. The time is now 6:00 a.m. You have one appointment today, seven new email messages, fifteen Facebook requests, one-hundred-and-twenty-three Tweets and ten LinkedIn updates to review.”

“Your power bill is also due in two days and your Internet access is close to revocation due to your lack of utility.”

“Thank you Alexa, that’s enough.”

“As you wish.”

“Oh, but please start my shower at the usual temperature.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. What was your request?

“Alexa please start my shower at the usual temperature.”

“The high temperature today is a mild 74 degrees Fahrenheit with no chance of showers.”

“Alexa! Start! My! Shower!”

“Problems darling?” The other woman in my life finally came online, er, awake to acknowledge my existence.

“Alexa is acting up again and I need to get my shower.”

“Are you nervous about your appointment today?”

While I appreciated her effort to show care and concern for my interview, I knew where her affections really went: to that savvy A.I programmer/developer three doors down the street. Yet like a subroutine forced to run over and over again, we continued going through the motions. She resented me for pretending not to care. I resented her resentment.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

“Why don’t you wear your gray suit? I think you look best in that one.”

“Thanks. I think I will. Siri, please rotate my gray suit to the front of my closet.”

“Good morning John. Here’s what I found: gay suites for coming out of the closet…”

“Siri!”

“Yes John?”

“Just start my coffee.”

***
I stepped out of our upscale townhouse and meandered down to the street. A steady hum of electric cars and delivery drones drown out any natural sounds there might have been, but I was so used to it that it did not bother me. A sleek, white sedan whizzed up to the curb and stopped directly next to me at exactly 7:15 a.m. A rear door of the driverless Uber opened automatically and I sat down in the immaculate interior.

The door had barely shut when a large package fell from the sky, directly onto the windshield. A spider web of cracks immediately erupted across the entire sheet of glass.

“I’m sorry John Smith, but this vehicle is now unsafe for transit. Please wait while we summon another. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please exit the vehicle and remain on the curb for your safety. Thank you for choosing Uber.”

A countdown clock appeared on the car’s seatback monitors. It was only four minutes until the next car would arrive, but seriously?!

Fortunately it was only a short drive and the replacement car appeared just as the countdown clock displayed zero. Without any further incident I was whisked quietly away to the old IBM Building.

***
Although I expected more artificially inflicted mischief, I managed to make my way to the lobby unopposed. It was a glossy affair with shiny white seats and light gray walls. One issue of Programming Today sat on the glass coffee table, perfectly centered. A door opened on the opposite side of the room and an elderly man with a shock of white hair and a crisp gray suit like mine took a few tentative steps towards me.

“Are you…the candidate?” he wheezed.

I sat up straight and put on my friendliest face.

“Yes sir, I am.”

“I only have…have two questions for you.”

“Well, I was expecting a more…lengthy interview process, but…”

“Do you speak binary?” The old man cut me off.

I answered him with a series of pops and clicks that taxed the design of my biological lips and tongue.

“Excellent…A bit of an accent, but that’ll do. Now, are you fluent in barcode?”

“Yes of course I am.” I demonstrated a few short phrases in UPC, EAN and Code 39 on the proffered tablet.

“Wonderful...please come with me.”

“But sir, did I get the job?”

“Yes young man, you did. Congratulations.” His wrinkled hand passed me a barcode name tag from his suit pocket as he began ambling towards the door.

“Now where are you going?”

“I’m going home.”

“Home?”

“Young man, I haven’t been home in 40 years. Now that you’ve been hired, I can finally retire. Good luck to you.”

Dumbfounded, I was unable to move. I was still watching him move slowly out the door as two androids dragged my limp body into the heart of the old IBM building.

(749 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2018
Reviews/critiques welcome