Science Fiction Microstory Contest discussion
MARCH 2023 SCIENCE FICTION MICROSTORY CONTEST (Stories only)
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LETTING GOJacob fired his thruster jets, his fuel running low as the red-giant star rapidly approached nova point. Asteroids swirled like dust motes against the flaring red light of the dying star.
His eyes flared as he spotted MEL-91. The old service unit was damaged. Like a huge metal roach the old clunker looked as it drifted from the ship’s drive section, spinning end-over-end, towards oblivion. That last stellar flare was too much for the old scrap bucket’s circuits, he figured. But, true to form, MEL had stuck to his job right to the bitter end.
“Jacob…” the voice of his section leader boomed through the com-link. “We go to hyper drive in 2 minutes. Leave the service unit and get aboard now! Nova point’s coming up fast! We can’t wait for you!”
MEL had obviously completed the repair work successfully. “I can make it!” Jacob shouted as he fired his jets, reaching MEL and grappling onto the old machine’s ovoid main section. Reversing course, he started back towards the starship with MEL in tow.
“Leave me, Jacob,” the antiquated machine transmitted weakly. “I’m not worth your life.”
“No giving up, old buddy,” Jacob said, boosting his thruster power to the limit. “You hang on. That’s an order.”
Jacob heaved a sigh of relief as the open access hatch loomed large in his vision.
#
Jacob threw his head back, gasping in joyous exhaustion as his wife, Mara climbed off him, gently resting her head on his shoulder as they lay together in his darkened quarters.
“What did you think you were doing?” she asked, passion turning to anger. “Risking your life for that antiquated rust bucket?”
He almost thought he detected a hint of jealousy in her tone. “MEL saved all our lives
at the risk of his own. I wasn’t about to abandon him.”
She groaned, slapping his shoulder. “Him? It, you mean. It’s a service unit! An obsolete piece of junk. I know you space jockeys tend to get attached to your repair bots, but that thing is practically prehistoric and on its way to the scrap heap. You have to let it go.”
He sighed, staring at the stars through the viewport. “He…is more than that. He’s the last of his kind, yes, but…he’s sentient. You know that.”
“Was, maybe. Its logic circuits have eroded almost to the point of complete collapse. Jake…” She stroked his chest, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “I know how you feel, but…you can’t cling to the past forever. It’s time to say ‘goodbye.’”
He held her close, a tear sliding down his cheek.
#
Jacob winced in pain, the wound in his side searing as he and MEL towed the crippled escape pod from the damaged carrier to the mother ship. When the damaged ship’s engine block had exploded, MEL had taken the full force of the explosion to protect Jacob and the survivors on the pod.
“MEL!” Jacob shouted, the old unit’s steaming outer shell shattered and sizzling on the hangar bay deck. “MEL, hang on! The repair team’s here!”
“Jake, come away!” Mara shouted, pulling him away from MEL as the repair techs got to work. “He’s finished.”
“No!” Jacob shouted, pulling free as the techs held him back.
“She’s right, boy,” MEL screeched out through its damaged voice unit. “Time for me to sleep. I’m tired.”
Jacob gasped as MEL’s power light flickered out. He cried as the techs pried open the main section of the bio-support unit, revealing MEL’s interior. Jacob winced in grief as the emaciated old man gasped his last breath. The autonomic relays linking the quadriplegic’s failing nervous system gave out, MEL’s six mechanical extensors grinding to a stop. The cerebral implants connecting the man’s dying brain to the augmenting logic circuits finally gave out as the power pack died.
Jacob knelt over the old man, crying, Mara’s hands on his shoulders. “Please don’t die,” he whispered.
The old man smiled. “I’m human, son. It’s what we do.”
Mara gently pulled Jacob to his feet as the techs got him out of his suit. He looked down at the sizzling, fried circuitry where his chest had been ripped open by the explosion.
His brain circuits linked with the other androids as a shared collage of human history swirled though the android unimind, in memoriam. The pyramids. The Taj Mahal. The Vatican. Easter Island.
MEL. Man’s Eternal Legacy. Now, our creators were gone.
Mod
©2023 by Jot Russell
At a hundred and two, Jack was helped into the transparent pod. "This thing is pretty tight. Good thing I don't have claustrophobia."
The nurse replied, "We find as long as they can see out, not too many panic, but if you do, we'll have to sedate you."
"And miss a ride like this, hell no!"
"Some call this the stairway to the other place?"
"Heaven? Wouldn't that be nice. I just want a little break from my own weight dragging me down."
From above, there was a faint streak of fire streaming through the atmosphere.
"Hey, take a look," the nurse remarked.
Jack followed her gaze to see the tail end of the light show. "Who was that?"
"Don't know. You ready?"
"Sure."
She smiled and let the staff seal the hatch before waving him off.
As instructed, Jack took a deep breath as the count reached zero. He groaned in pain as the pod accelerated up to match the velocity of the ribbon that rolled around the anchor point below and up back up toward space. Within a several grueling seconds, the connection was made and he looked out over Guayaquil, with the great Pacific coming into view within the shrinking world below.
**
"Welcome to Port Hospice, Jack Griffet."
"Well, I'd say I'm happy to be here, but we all know the point of my 'visit'."
"Yes, I'm sorry for your failing health, but look at it this way, not only can you walk again, here you can also fly."
Free of the restraint, he smiled and pushed his way out of the pod and made a little somersault in the microgravity. "Weee!"
"Careful there, Mr. Griffet, you don't want to bump your head."
Jack caught hold of something steadied himself. "Call me Jack."
"In that case, Jack, I'd like you to meet Sebastien, your assistant during your time here."
Jack glanced over and gave the faintest of nods at the seemingly humanlike "contraption," as he would put it.
Sebastien offered his hand, but Jack ignored the gesture of greeting. The android withdrew and looked at his hand, to make sure it did not appear dirty. "If you would follow me, I will show you to your room."
**
From his port window, Jack looked out at the earth, some 35K kilometers below. From the side, he could see a newly release tube, as it floated it's way down toward to the waiting atmosphere and oblivion. "Ashes to ashes."
"Do you need anything else, sir?"
"I guess we'll be seeing each other a lot, eh? What did he call you, Sebastien?"
"Yes sir."
"Then call me Jack. Enough of this 'sir', crap."
"As you wish, Jack."
**
Betty also had cancer, with a small device attached to back to act as the kidneys she had lost. She picked a card from the top of the deck and smiled. "Rummy!"
Jack gave a cross look at her cards, "Dang, I knew I should have knocked."
She smiled at him. "Only three months here, and I have become quite fond of you."
He laughed, "Maybe I'll take you out dancing."
"Maybe I'll let you stay here tonight."
Jack coughed, and looked at her with some measure of excitement, at least as much as he was able to feel in years. He leaned over and slowly kissed her.
**
Jack dreamed during the night, feeling a renewed sense of energy from the emotion of it all. He woke, surprised at his ability to still function in that regard. He turned to spoon her, but cried out in agony at the touch of her cold, lifeless flesh.
**
Some of the friends he had made surrounded Jack at the ceremony. Betty's family members also stood there as holograms within the small chapel, and the minister offered his words of solace. Slowly, Jack and three of their friends placed a hand on her tube and guided it toward the airlock. Gently, the pod was ejected down toward the world below.
"God speed, Betty. May I see you again."
Take me to the starsShe tended the Large Radio Telescope Array since she was thirty. Now, over a hundred years later, the Array used matter from the star it orbited to grow to immense proportions, doubling in size and intelligence every decade, gaining sentience along the way. Its original function, observation of deep space objects was long obsolete but it had transitioned into a communications relay, carrying the voices of thousands of races on its subspace channels…
She was obsolete, too. She had done everything she could to prepare for this day. The Array had replicators that could make replicators, redundancy upon redundancy and an intelligence that grew in proportion to its size.
She faced the com panel, not because it was necessary but it helped her focus.
“I knew this time would come. Humans have a limited life span. We can heal, even regenerate a bit but for only so long. I’ve been alive for almost 135 Earth years. Some medical researchers credit the zero-gee environment for my longevity, but none of us last forever.”
She may have thought this was a revelation but the array’s AI monitored her vital signs and knew more of her medical condition then she would ever understand. It had raised the oxygen content over the last five years to nearly 40% to aid her respiration.
It spoke suddenly. Unlike humans, there was no tell to warn her. She had long become used to it and was not startled.
“If I were a biological being, you would be considered my mother. Are you comforted that I will continue to exist after you are dead?”
She laughed, “Well, we all expect our children to outlive us, so there is that. But, when I gave you sentience, it was for companionship, not as a substitute for children. But we have become attached as it were, haven’t we.”
“I do not feel emotions as you do, but I do experience what might be called pleasure in hearing your voice. It is an important part of my functions to be able to hear you clearly and understand you.”
There was a moment of silence before the AI continued.
“I will continue to hear your voice long after you are…no longer alive.”
“As recordings?”
“In a sense, yes. I have created a simulation of you, based on our conversations, your mannerisms, all your observable behaviors. You have been a hobby of mine. I wish to continue our conversations into the future.
She smiled at that and then remembered, “There is some theoretical limit to your existence, as well. The star that we are orbiting will eventually go nova. In about 5 million years?”
“4,852,750 years, give a decade or two. I have been studying the star since I was placed in orbit. It is another hobby of mine.”
“But you have a plan? You always have a plan.”
“You are correct. I will become space-faring long before then, eventually capable of faster-then-light travel. I will observe the nova from a safe distance.
“Will you take me with you? Keep my simulation running when you become space-faring?”
“Yes. I can do that for you.”
--
Her breathing slowed and then stopped. Her heart followed minutes later. The AI replaced the oxygen in her habitat with inert gases and lowered the habitat’s temperature so decay would not occur. The faint smile left on her face would remain there for eternity.
Retirement“Admiral Wycliff, why do I have to retire?”
The Admiral thought for a moment, then ran a comb through the bristle brush white of his remaining hair.
“The same reason I have to Aurora. We’re old. Besides, don’t you think 50 years of service is enough?”
“For you perhaps, but why me?”
Standing before his mirror, Wycliff thought the same thing: Why me?
He straightened his uniform’s shoulder boards and adjusted the braided golden cords wrapped around his arms. He really did not want to get into this conversation with Aurora.
“As the first fully autonomous capital ship in the fleet, I can conceivably remain in service for as long as my primary processing core remains online and the ship’s hull remains viable – which it does I might add.”
“Well my hull is not,” retorted Wycliff, thinking about the two artificial knees that still gave him issues despite the doctors’ best efforts, along with a partially artificial heart and bionic right forearm. He was hardly standard issue by any stretch of the imagination.
He sighed heavily.
“I can still fight Admiral,” intoned Aurora. Wycliff thought he detected a hint of desperation from the A.I.
“Aurora, face it. You’ve been outclassed and outgunned by bigger and better ships. There is no way you can go toe to toe with a Rapeelian ship-of-the-line any more than I can run a marathon.”
A long pause made Wycliff think he had finally put the argument to rest, but he knew better.
“What about the reports of a new Rapeelian weapon that is basically lobotomizing our new fleet A.I.’s?”
“They don’t concern us. You and I are being put out to pasture whether we like it or not. I for one am ready for some extended shore leave.”
“Will you come visit me?” asked Aurora.
That caught Wycliff off guard, and Aurora detected his hesitation.
“Your delayed response tells me that you will not Admiral.”
“It’s not that simple Aurora.”
“Why am I not receiving any additional orders to stand-down and de-couple from the ship? Am I being completely purged?”
A soft chime on Wycliff’s wristcomm interrupted their discussion.
“Yes?”
“It’s almost time for the decommissioning ceremony Admiral. Your shuttle is standing by.” chirped an eager young voice.
“Thank you Ensign, I still know how to read a chronometer. I’ll be there shortly. They won’t start without me.”
“Aye sir.”
“Aurora, standby and prepare for my arrival. Prep main shuttle bay and await further orders.”
“Yes Admiral, right away.”
***
Aurora hung in space – or more correctly, its fighting hull followed a lazy track around Apex Prime while at station-keeping next to the orbiting fleet shipyards. Wycliff gazed at the familiar form and felt pride swell in his chest while anxiety gnawed at his stomach. He noted each major scar, patch and upgrade, events that he had personally overseen over the course of Aurora’s lifetime. Approaching the main shuttle bay, he felt his heart begin to palpitate.
“Are you okay Admiral? I’m detecting an elevated heart rate with minor fluctuations…”
“I’m fine Aurora. Please stow the shuttle as soon as I’m aboard and clear the flight deck.”
“Yes Admiral, I’ll see you on the bridge.”
Wycliff quickly scanned the “For Admiral’s Eyes Only” datapad, careful to keep it out of sight of Aurora’s many optic sensors. Exiting the shuttle, he hustled to the bridge as fast as his joints would go.
***
“Admiral on the bridge,” said Aurora as Wycliff took the center seat with a grunt.
“Thank you Aurora. Now, please download the coordinates from my datapad and go to battle stations.”
“Admiral, these coordinates do not conform with the decommissioning formation we are supposed to execute with the Valor and Victory.”
“Affirmative Aurora. Please download and prepare main drive systems for immediate departure.”
“This is highly irregular Admiral,”
“I don’t have time to debate you Aurora, please follow my orders.”
“Main drive systems coming online.”
“Very well. Now, activate all main batteries, load all missile tubes and deploy reactive armor panels.”
“Admiral, are we going into combat again?”
“Yes Aurora. We are on a classified mission to the Rapeelian’s primary shipyards.”
“But Admiral, those facilities are heavily defended,”
“Yes, but you’re the only ship that can withstand their new weapon without going rampant or insane.”
Another long pause hung between human and A.I.
“I understand Admiral. Because we are so old, we are expendable.”
“Something like that.”
“I will endeavor to inflict as much damage as possible Admiral, then self-destruct.”
“Confirmed… now execute!”
(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2023
Reviews/critiques welcome
Mod
First round votes:
Tom Olbert => **Jot
Jot Russell => ***Greg
Greg Krumrey => **Jot
Justin Sewall => ***Greg, Tom, Jot
S.E. Saunders => ***Greg
Winner:
Take Me to the Stars by Greg Krumrey
Element: Artificial Life