Chris’s Comments (group member since Nov 04, 2015)

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

Five Words

“You know, I was supposed to be at a Christmas party today,” I remarked as Marilyn and I hiked steadily across a scorched wasteland in central Kansas flanked by a half dozen marines. Special ops commandos had already swept the wreckage and confirmed it clear, though I still had my doubts. Even though we were able to bring down their ship, it towered into the sky, cratering hundreds of acres of once open farmland. At our backs, just outside the quarantine zone was a readied legion of Earth’s most advanced soldiers, weapons, and tech.

“Well, this should be a lot more interesting, that’s for sure,” she chuckled. We kept to the long walk. All the while, I felt like I’d drawn the short straw, even though I knew we were the most qualified, the foremost theoretical xenobiologists anywhere…or maybe we were just brave enough, or stupid enough, not to say no. I just couldn’t resist the urge to study the aliens for myself. And the Marines? Each of them probably did get the short straw.

“Is the receiver picking up anything?” I nervously checked to ensure my suit was completely sealed.

“It’s just like before: faint. There’s a subtle transmission and something’s producing it.”

We first received their message decades ago, a fractured warning from across the stars, broadcast into every home and through every device able to receive it; five simple unnerving unforgettable words, synthesized in English and laced into a fragmented carrier band:

Earth. Starved. Feast. Consume. You.

Of course there was more there, but after years, teams of scientists, and the most advanced decryption algorithms, we just couldn’t recover the rest of the message. We really didn’t need to. The intent was clear enough, fueling urgent advancements in weaponry and technology. Humans weren’t about to become dinner for some starved alien invader. We’d fight, but then again didn’t have a clue about how long we had. When they finally arrived last week, we immediately blasted their ship from the sky without negotiation and the world celebrated.

Now, our small company reached the hull and the marines were first inside, hiking up the shadowed incline of what appeared to be a passageway. Their lights were diligent, scanning every shadow. “The signal’s definitely stronger here,” Marilyn noted. “The source seems be somewhere near the center of the ship.” Our lieutenant signaled it clear, so we followed. I’ll admit, I half-expected to be dragged to an otherworldly death, eaten alive in the darkness.

Reaching a cavernous central chamber sloping up and away, the nearest edge was piled high with horrifying and fascinating, monstrous alien corpses. Contorted into all sorts of disfiguring positions, theirs was a spider-like terror, with crooked joints and jagged teeth. Black goo, maybe blood, coated the incline and I was particularly thankful for my containment suit.

Then, a flashing beacon up ahead drew our attention and we eased inside, past the festering aliens stacked against the lowest wall. It was a slick and treacherous climb but we reached a low upright pylon topped with a glowing red button. “The signal’s definitely coming from here.”

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“Push it, I suppose,” and before I could stop her, she did exactly that. Instantly, a beam erupted overhead, broadening into a brilliant virtual starscape. Thousands and thousands of entries: stars, planets, and other curiosities were tagged in an alien language, labeling an artificial galaxy. There was a cackling in an alien tongue as the image zoomed into a familiar solar system with eight planets, then zoomed in again on the third planet from the sun. “I’ve got something!” Marilyn worked her datapad frantically, then presented it to me proudly.

“Holy hell,” I realized. “This is it. The full message. Earth. Starved. Feast. Consume. You. It’s all here.”

It was in formal English. “Greetings people of Earth. We X’althophrae address you in friendship as the last of our kind. Having spent millennia as explorers, we’ve scoured countless star-systems for any signs of intelligent life. Sadly, we’re alone, a mere pair of intelligent species in a galaxy starved with life. We celebrate discovering your weak transmissions, a light in our darkest hours and shall present you with a feast of information for your greatest scientists to consume and consider, the legacy of our dying species. We’ve begun the long journey and hope to meet you in brotherhood before the last of us has expired. Peace to you.” Then all power fizzled away.

“Shit.”


746 words

Congrats Kalifer!

Way to go, Jot! Great story! :)

Tom, thanks so much for your critique! I really appreciate your review! :)

Justin, thanks so much for your critique. I'm glad to see, at least from my perspective, you appreciated the lightheartedness I was going for. Thanks again! :)

Paula and Justin, thanks so much for your kind words. I was trying to do something a little more lighthearted this month. I'm happy you enjoyed it! :)

Relativity

“This can’t be it.” I mean, the building looked abandoned, its drab windows trimmed with faded lace and the storefront, if you could call it that, had definitely suffered from neglect. I had my doubts when my GPS led me down the forgotten alleyway, yet there it was: Tachyon’s Timepieces, Trinkets, and Tall Tales.

Certainly suspicious, I tried the door, expecting it to be locked, but it swung open easily, a little bell announcing me. The inside was stale with the odors of old fabrics and antiques, decades of dust coating every surface, even the empty display cases. "Hello?” I asked when no one came to the front.

“Be with you in a moment!” I heard from the back. So, I waited patiently, all the while wondering about the peculiar empty shop. Finally, an odd little man pushed through the curtains. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He shifted his spectacles into his wild hair. “Crazy Spanish Inquisition, you know. Tough getting anything done with the church watching every move. Anyways, what can I do for you?”

“Mr. Tachyon? We spoke on the phone.”

“Ah! Yes, of course.”

“I have this old pocket watch. I think it’s broken and your number was on the back. I was just wondering if it’s worth anything.”

He motioned for the thing and I dropped it into his palm. Shifting his glasses onto his long nose, a set of enormous eyes studied it closely. “Now, why would you ever want to sell such a priceless artifact?”

“Priceless? I like the sound of that! It doesn’t work and, honestly, no one uses these things anymore.”

“Really? How sad.” A quick glance over the rim of his glasses and he went to work, removing the back.

“Anyways, my uncle was tremendously wealthy and I was his only relative. Funny thing is, this was the only thing he left me when he died. It may sound crass, but I’ll admit I was disappointed. So, do you think it’s valuable?”

“Ha! Your uncle must have really loved you.” Tachyon turned his tiny screwdriver, revealing the faintest glow. “Tell me, did he ever explain how he amassed his wealth?” A pop and a sizzle and the lights dimmed.

“Um, he was always a bit vague about that.”

“Well, you may want to take a seat.” The only chair in the room was a dusty old Victorian in the corner.

“Thanks, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” he chuckled and pressed his tool in. Instantly, the shop disappeared, replaced by a tropical rainforest, a powerful roar echoing through the trees.

“What the?!” I stumbled back into the brush.

“Whoops! That’s not it.” Tachyon peered closer and turned his screwdriver. Our surroundings next became an ancient Chinese noodle house and I was too stunned to say a word. “Blasted chronodynamometer!” He twisted away again and we stood on a tall glass bridge, towering polished spires soaring into the sky.

A hovering taxi soared past us. “What the hell is going on?”

“Dangit!” The little tinkerer never took his eyes off the watch. “Looks like a stuck regulator.” He struggled and it sparked.

“Meaning?” The futuristic horizon shifted to Paris in the late 1800s, then to ancient Rome, and finally returned to the old dusty shop.

“Aha!” He peered intensely into the tiny mechanisms. “Huh. The regulator was locked into ‘Here and Now’.” A final turn and he snapped the watch confidently together again. “Good as new.”

“What the hell was all that?”

“Let’s see,” he counted on his fingers. “Mid Jurassic era. China…Ming dynasty or so. Oh, New York, after the fusion revolution, of course. Um, Paris’s World’s Fair, and…the Reign of Emperor Augustus…I think.”

“Are you saying that’s some sort of time machine?”

“It can take you anywhere in anytime you’d like. Fairly clever, if I do say so myself. An earlier model, but ingenious all the same. Still interested in selling it?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Okay, then.” He shuffled through some papers on a nearby shelf, pulling a tattered pamphlet free. “Ah, here it is. The instructions. And don’t skip the rules. Can’t have your traipsing through time and changing history,” he chuckled. “That’ll be $40.” I gladly paid it. On my way out, he added, “Oh, a word of advice. There’s nothing more valuable than time. Use it wisely.” He winked as the door closed between us.

Heading confidently back down the alleyway, unanswered questions filled my mind, but I returned too late to ask them, for the storefront had disappeared.


748 words

Thanks again, everyone! November's theme is up! :)

** CRITIQUES ONLY **
The theme* for the month follows this note from the competition's Creator/Director, Jot Russell:

To help polish our skills and present a flavour of our art to other members in the group, I am continuing this friendly contest for those who would like to participate. There is no money involved, but there is also no telling what a little recognition and respect might generate. The rules are simple:

1) The story needs to be your own work and should be posted on the Good Reads Discussion board, which is a public group. You maintain responsibility and ownership of your work to do with as you please. You may withdraw your story at any time.

2) The stories must be 750 words or less.

3) The stories have to be science fiction, follow a specific theme and potentially include reference to items as requested by the prior month's contest winner. The theme for this month is posted below.

4) You have until midnight EST on the 22nd day of the month to post your story to the Good Reads Science Fiction Microstory Contest discussion. One story per author per month.

5) After, anyone from the LI Sci-Fi group or the GR Science Fiction Microstory Discussion group has until midnight EST of the 25th day of the month to cast a single private vote to Jot Russell () for a story other than their own. This vote will be made public once voting is closed. Voting is required. If you do not vote, your story will be disqualified from the contest. You don't need a qualifying story to cast a vote, but must offer the reason for your vote if you don’t have an entry.

6) To win, a story needs at least half of the votes, or be the only one left after excluding those with the fewest votes. Runoffs will be run each day until a winner is declared. Stories with vote totals that add up to at least half, discarding those with the fewest votes, will be carried forward to the next runoff election. Prior votes will be carried forward to support runoff stories. If you voted for a story that did not make it into the runoff, you need to vote again before midnight EST of that day. Only people who voted in the initial round may vote in the runoffs.

7) Please have all posts abide by the rules of Good Reads and the LI Sci-Fi group.

8) Professional comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated by any member in either group and should be posted to the separate thread that will be posted at the end of the month and all voting is complete to avoid any influence on the voting. Feel free to describe elements that you do and don't like, as these help us gain a better perspective of our potential readers. Remarks deemed inflammatory or derogatory will be flagged and/ or removed by the moderator.

9) The winner has THREE days after the start of the new month to make a copy of these rules and post a new contest thread using the theme/items of their choosing. Otherwise, the originator of the contest, Jot Russell, will post a new contest thread.
______________________________
*Theme Requirements for the October 2016 contest:

"Goddamned time machine!"

That's all. In any manner you choose. (You don't have to use the quote, just the idea.)

Have fun!

** COMMENTS ONLY **
The theme* for the month follows this note from the competition's Creator/Director, Jot Russell:

To help polish our skills and present a flavour of our art to other members in the group, I am continuing this friendly contest for those who would like to participate. There is no money involved, but there is also no telling what a little recognition and respect might generate. The rules are simple:

1) The story needs to be your own work and should be posted on the Good Reads Discussion board, which is a public group. You maintain responsibility and ownership of your work to do with as you please. You may withdraw your story at any time.

2) The stories must be 750 words or less.

3) The stories have to be science fiction, follow a specific theme and potentially include reference to items as requested by the prior month's contest winner. The theme for this month is posted below.

4) You have until midnight EST on the 22nd day of the month to post your story to the Good Reads Science Fiction Microstory Contest discussion. One story per author per month.

5) After, anyone from the LI Sci-Fi group or the GR Science Fiction Microstory Discussion group has until midnight EST of the 25th day of the month to cast a single private vote to Jot Russell () for a story other than their own. This vote will be made public once voting is closed. Voting is required. If you do not vote, your story will be disqualified from the contest. You don't need a qualifying story to cast a vote, but must offer the reason for your vote if you don’t have an entry.

6) To win, a story needs at least half of the votes, or be the only one left after excluding those with the fewest votes. Runoffs will be run each day until a winner is declared. Stories with vote totals that add up to at least half, discarding those with the fewest votes, will be carried forward to the next runoff election. Prior votes will be carried forward to support runoff stories. If you voted for a story that did not make it into the runoff, you need to vote again before midnight EST of that day. Only people who voted in the initial round may vote in the runoffs.

7) Please have all posts abide by the rules of Good Reads and the LI Sci-Fi group.

8) Professional comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated by any member in either group and should be posted to the separate thread that will be posted at the end of the month and all voting is complete to avoid any influence on the voting. Feel free to describe elements that you do and don't like, as these help us gain a better perspective of our potential readers. Remarks deemed inflammatory or derogatory will be flagged and/ or removed by the moderator.

9) The winner has THREE days after the start of the new month to make a copy of these rules and post a new contest thread using the theme/items of their choosing. Otherwise, the originator of the contest, Jot Russell, will post a new contest thread.
______________________________
*Theme Requirements for the October 2016 contest:

"Goddamned time machine!"

That's all. In any manner you choose. (You don't have to use the quote, just the idea.)

Have fun!

** STORIES ONLY **
The theme* for the month follows this note from the competition's Creator/Director, Jot Russell:

To help polish our skills and present a flavour of our art to other members in the group, I am continuing this friendly contest for those who would like to participate. There is no money involved, but there is also no telling what a little recognition and respect might generate. The rules are simple:

1) The story needs to be your own work and should be posted on the Good Reads Discussion board, which is a public group. You maintain responsibility and ownership of your work to do with as you please. You may withdraw your story at any time.

2) The stories must be 750 words or less.

3) The stories have to be science fiction, follow a specific theme and potentially include reference to items as requested by the prior month's contest winner. The theme for this month is posted below.

4) You have until midnight EST on the 22nd day of the month to post your story to the Good Reads Science Fiction Microstory Contest discussion. One story per author per month.

5) After, anyone from the LI Sci-Fi group or the GR Science Fiction Microstory Discussion group has until midnight EST of the 25th day of the month to cast a single private vote to Jot Russell () for a story other than their own. This vote will be made public once voting is closed. Voting is required. If you do not vote, your story will be disqualified from the contest. You don't need a qualifying story to cast a vote, but must offer the reason for your vote if you don’t have an entry.

6) To win, a story needs at least half of the votes, or be the only one left after excluding those with the fewest votes. Runoffs will be run each day until a winner is declared. Stories with vote totals that add up to at least half, discarding those with the fewest votes, will be carried forward to the next runoff election. Prior votes will be carried forward to support runoff stories. If you voted for a story that did not make it into the runoff, you need to vote again before midnight EST of that day. Only people who voted in the initial round may vote in the runoffs.

7) Please have all posts abide by the rules of Good Reads and the LI Sci-Fi group.

8) Professional comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated by any member in either group and should be posted to the separate thread that will be posted at the end of the month and all voting is complete to avoid any influence on the voting. Feel free to describe elements that you do and don't like, as these help us gain a better perspective of our potential readers. Remarks deemed inflammatory or derogatory will be flagged and/ or removed by the moderator.

9) The winner has THREE days after the start of the new month to make a copy of these rules and post a new contest thread using the theme/items of their choosing. Otherwise, the originator of the contest, Jot Russell, will post a new contest thread.
______________________________
*Theme Requirements for the October 2016 contest:

"Goddamned time machine!"

That's all. In any manner you choose. (You don't have to use the quote, just the idea.)

Have fun!

What? Holy cow! This month had such great stories, I'm shocked. Thanks so much! :)

Thanks so much Justin! :)

Hunted

“You can’t hide forever!” he shouted, his deep Drexarian voice echoing through the fractured, empty corridors. Thankfully, I could tell from our concealed position, inside the ducts of our downed cruiser, he was moving steadily away. S’rephia and I were both exhausted, having evaded for days. Even so, I was determined to kill that sonofabitch.

Our ship must have been attacked, dropped from space, and the two of us should’ve have been killed, if not for our stasis pods. Every other member of our crew, the soldiers assigned to ensure our arrival at the peace conference, was dead. Unfortunately, we were unable to find a single plasma weapon in the wreckage, so we were basically defenseless.

Her hands were trembling and S’rephia’s deep lavender eyes were wide with a primal terror. I couldn’t blame her. She was totally out of her element, after all. She’d grown up in a palace full of servants, her every need attended to…the favorite daughter of a wealthy Drexarian Raja. Me? Well, I was just a grunt, a gunnery sergeant in the Aegis Marines. I was from Kentucky. She definitely wasn’t.

“Let’s move,” I whispered but she was too petrified. So, I brushed the long silken hair from her face and kissed her softly. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone.” Her tensions seemed to ease.

“Well, we can’t stay here. I have an idea, but I’ll need your help.” Hesitating, she reluctantly agreed.

We crept from our shelter and eased down the hallway toward what was left of the bridge. I powered up the drive systems, which was sure to draw some attention. I had to be quick. “Take this comm. When I give you the signal, hit this button here.” She understood but when I pulled away she wouldn’t let go. “This will only work if the timing’s right.” I stared squarely into her eyes. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

“You’d better.” She pulled me close and kissed me deeply before letting go.

“Hey jackass! Over here!” I charged from the bridge, certain to make as much noise as possible as I rushed into the open, clearing the wreckage and passing the ship’s main thrusters. Then he found me, standing near the tree line at the edge of the impact crater. “Come get me!” I taunted and he charged right at me without any consideration it might be a trap. “Now!” I shouted but nothing happened. “S’rephia, now! Hit the drive!” Still nothing. “Shit.”

I fled into the jungle and caught him off-guard in the dense brush, knocking his weapon away. His claws were ready but I was done running. A lucky swipe sliced me across the arm so I returned a solid blow, shattering his jaw. He wailed then launched into me and we rolled into the brush, clawing and punching. Then, a shimmer just out of reach was sufficient motivation to leverage him away. I grabbed his lost pistol and one shot was enough to put him down.

“S’rephia!” I broke into a run when there was no response, charging back the bridge only to stop dead in my tracks as my heart nearly stopped.

“You see, I can lure you out, just as easily,” Jacob Mellows sneered. His pistol was pressed firmly against her temple and she was restrained by the neck.

“I take it the tracker was yours?” I stared unfazed into the eyes of the most famous arms dealer in the galaxy, trying not to reveal my anxiety. “Selling arms to both sides then?”

He shrugged. “It’s a pretty good gig as long as the war keeps going. I mean, the two sides were absolutely invested in destroying each other. Who knew an impossible romance between a dirty grunt and an alien princess could end it all.” He pressed the barrel in. “Way I see it, I could kill both of you now, or kill one of you and use the other as a bargaining chip. Now, which one is more valuable?” He turned his gun toward me. “Sorry.”

Instantly, his body stiffened and eyes went wide. A reflexive blast grazed my leg which burned like hell but wasn’t deadly. S’rephia retracted her spinal barbs and Mellows slid lifeless away. She ran into my arms. “Are you okay?” I ran my hand down her back. “That’s a pretty cool little trick.”

“It’s a little embarrassing, using them in such a way.”

“I think it’s kind of sexy. Now, let’s see if one of these assholes has a ship.”


750 words

Congratulations Greg! :)

Whoot, Jot! Jealous!

John, thanks so much for the critique. It sounds like you definitely got a sense of what I was going for! :)

Ha! :)

Sheesh, who would have known I'd really struggle with my own theme for the month. Man! At least it's up, anyways. :)

Reclaiming Our Humanity


December the 24th (Christmas Eve), 2042

I’m logging this entry with the hope, should we succeed, that my words will survive for future generations even if I do not.

Our world was defeated before we even knew the truth. I mean, we’d always suspected if aliens did invade our Earth, it would be a massive assault…shock and awe. Of course we’d seen the movies, fleets of massive ships settling into the atmosphere from space and targeting our major cities. The reality was, however, we were too spread out, dispersed to every corner of the globe. And, humans are a stubborn breed. Billions of people would resist an overt assault. A full scale invasion would be too inefficient, would take too long and cost too much. So, how do you conquer a planet without firing a shot? Easy, introduce a voracious microorganism into an underprepared population.

Experts called it the Peruvian Flu and it was horrific. Ironically, it started in one of the smallest villages you could ever imagine, high in the Andes and away from any place important. The whole settlement was basically decimated before the first videos started showing up on social media and it wasn’t pretty.

Imagine the worst possible scenario for an epidemic. Symptoms began with an innocuous mild fever and respiratory symptoms: coughing, sneezing, that sort of thing. Then the fever became a burning fire inside the victim which literally consumed their organs as they basically melted into a heap of quivering flesh. It was nightmarish and every bit of it was on the internet for the world to see, creating a worldwide panic.

At first, we had no idea how it was transmitted. It spread so fast, there wasn’t enough data to determine whether it moved via bodily fluids, casual contact, or air. Our worst fears were confirmed when whole groups of people with no physical contact at all began getting sick. The bug was airborne and there was no hope for a cure.

Ninety percent of the Earth’s population was dead in a matter of weeks, a dragon which consumed the world. After the storm passed, only a handful of us remained and most were completely destroyed neurologically, mindless zombies meandering aimlessly through the streets with no consciousness whatsoever…truly undead. Still, we had hope. Enough of us survived intact against the infection, though we were left to fend for ourselves on a devastated world.

Of course, we had no idea in the beginning the pandemic was, in actuality, a precursor to invasion. When they did finally arrive, there was only one ship and it was massive, soaring over the Atlantic to someplace on the other side of the world. Then, their scout ships began sweeping through our culled cities, searching high and low for the mindless drones they knew had survived…only they’d miscalculated. Not everyone was wiped clean and some even fought back. When a group of soldiers brought down the first scout ship, we learned a lot about their potential. More importantly, we knew they could be killed.

That was six months ago and those of us who were immune, hundreds of thousands worldwide, have kept to the shadows, staying intentionally out of sight. We developed a network, began talking to each other and planning a resistance. Hidden away, we patiently watched the aliens harvest every mind-wiped person they could find, some of them tagged with our GPS trackers. Eventually, we discovered the alien mothership over a broad expanse of barren desert in the Middle East where every human slave was fitted with a control collar and taken to drop sites around the world to mine the planet’s gold.

We’re all soldiers now but before the end came I was an epidemiologist, studying infection trends and that sort of thing. I’m sure the reason we survived, for better or worse, was because of the strength of human immunity. You see, our immune system can adapt to just about anything you throw at it, trillions and trillions of potential antigens, even alien it now appears. And my experience has shown me, no matter how bad or terrible the infection, there will always be survivors. I don’t think the aliens counted on that.

Anyways, we just crossed into France and I can see the beaches at Normandy from our Blackhawk. It’s our turn now, our moment to take our planet back. We’re going to make those goddam things pay for what they did to us. Hopefully, if we prevail, history will remember us fondly…God willing.


750 words