Science Fiction Microstory Contest discussion
OCTOBER 2024 SCIENCE FICTION MICROSTORY CONTEST (Stories Only)
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DARK FRONTIERKaya cursed silently as the alarm sounded.
“Is it a real ‘go’ code, or another drill?” Aila asked beside her, her dark blue eyes flaring like twin suns in the dim light of Earth-rise seen from the space port in Kaya’s quarters.
“It’s real, love,” Kaya sighed, her strong dark fingers stroking a wisp of blonde hair from the eyes of the strong, lovely girl in her arms. “Come on,” she said, forcing down her passion, her oath and training coming to the fore. “We have to go.”
The gee-force fell on Kaya’s strong shoulders like a ton of led, artificial Earth-like gravity setting in on this section of the Lunar-orbiting space station. As they dressed, the lights coming up, Kaya read the expression on her Academy trainee’s handsome face. Aila was scared, sure. No amount of VR sims could prepare a trainee for actual combat for the first time. But, the courage that burned in the heart of that young, once savage white girl the day Kaya had first seen her on Mars burned brighter than ever. Aila was taking up arms to save her people from the same slavery from which the Confederation had rescued her. Kaya’s love for Aila was stronger now than ever…eclipsed only by a fear for her lover’s safety that she would not show her. Aila was depending on her now.
“Pull yourself straight, soldier,” Kaya said, the voice of a combat commander now coming to the fore. “We’ve got a date with the Easterners we want them never to forget.”
Aila smiled as she strapped on her gear and followed Kaya to the launch port.
#
The strike force left the space station. The sight of the disembarking ships streaking across the black void in the sunlight breaking over Earth’s horizon stirred Kaya as the sat-com transmission filled her interfaced consciousness, through her cybernetic brain implant. Aila clasped Kaya’s hand as their transport ship hit atmo, the cabin trembling wildly around them. Kaya gripped her hand tightly, their fingers interlocking. Oddly, a memory surfaced. Kaya and Aila at a dining table in the cafeteria at the Academy training facility orbiting Phobos. Some loud-mouthed senior cadet had made a racist remark, saying the ‘over-breeding white savages’ on Earth weren’t worth saving. Aila had lunged for him, but Kaya had beat her to it, breaking the bastard’s nose. It had cost her detention, but she’d do it again.
Kaya started, shaken back to reality by the thunder of outward explosions. She held Aila’s hand tighter, realizing the Chinese ground-to-air missile batteries had already locked onto the strike force. But, her interface informed her their interceptor drones were getting the job done. As the squadron descended lower in the Terran atmosphere, the history programs downloaded at the Academy through Kaya’s brain implant swirled through her mind, as though triggered by the dark world they were now approaching.
For centuries, when Aila’s white ancestors dominated Earth and Kaya’s African ancestors suffered slavery, war and poverty, over-population devastated Terra, mostly in Africa and Asia. As overcrowding contributed to carbon pollution, rising global temperatures, droughts, floods and storms, hordes of refugees from impoverished nations were slaughtered as they desperately sought refuge in the white lands. Overpopulation was fought with genocide. Genetically engineered race-specific plagues ravaged whole continents. But, too late. Dwindling resources led to war over land and food. As the last of the crumbling western nations joined forces, Kaya’s ancestors were conscripted to colonize space. They were chosen for their orientation. Population had to be perfectly balanced on the space habitats. Later, Kaya’s people declared independence from the western alliance and formed the Solar Confederation. Centuries later, western civilization was extinct, Europe destroyed by the Asian Hegemony, North America now a ruined, overpopulated anarchic land of warring savage tribes.
Kaya was snapped back to the present as the sight of an immense Asian air ship filled her interfaced consciousness as the strikers broke the clouds over occupied America. She looked at Aila. “It’s time,” she whispered.
Aila nodded. “Let’s do it.” Explosions shook the cabin as laser fire from the strikers blasted down the Asian escort drones, the strikers blasting open the hatches, the Confederation boarding parties storming the immense slave carrier. Kaya and Aila went in side by side, blasting through the Chinese guards. The white slaves were visible below, chained like animals on their way to the undersea mines.
Kaya felt for them. Like Aila, they would know freedom, and education on Mars.
Mod
©2024 by Jot Russell
I woke within my pod to the false illumination of what the historical archives would call a sunrise. They might as well have displayed an image of bars within this three meter cube that I couldn't even call home, as come day's end, I'll be forced to comply to my cycle of "night" and find myself to another available unit. My bed retracted into the ceiling as I stumbled over toward the corner tube to relieve myself and get a two liter spray-wash. With a green uniform, backpack, protein bar and cup of what they call synth-coffee, I made my way out into the hollow world. Behind, the pod was conveyed away for prep and storage, while the next took its spot to reveal another insignificant soul within a sea of people.
As with most, I was a farmer on an agriculture level near to a surface that I had never seen. Light beamed down through optical conduits to illuminate a vast chamber of green, and the color of it almost gave me a smile. It got me thinking about the world above, though.
"Hey Bob, ready to feed the world?" My friend jokingly asked.
I nodded. "All hundred billion, Dave. Hey, you even been up top?"
He looked up toward the light illuminators. "You mean outside...sure...how else do you think I got my suntan from."
"I'm serious man, wouldn't it be cool to see a real sunrise?"
He laughed. "Cool? Yeah, how long can you hold your breath while being cooked in the 60c heat."
"Wouldn't be so bad with an exposure suit."
"You want to be a surface engineer?"
"No, I just want to borrow a suit and take a walk out in the real world."
Dave lowered his voice to a whisper. "Quiet man, you're not authorized and if they hear you talk like that they'll assign you down in the water recycler level."
"I smell what you mean."
**
That night I found my way back to a housing level. After a bite, another two liter wash, and a gray jumpsuit, I prepared to head back out. But instead of going out for a drink and a pool game, I left my shoes off and asked, "Pod, I want to walk through the sand on a distance beach to the sight of a sunrise."
The walls of the unit darkened with with a faint translucent glow on one end to reveal a place where sand stretched out along the lines of a body of water that seemed endless. In the distance, a sliver of yellow broke the plane of the horizon and spilled its light around me. I could feel the warmth from the image whose brightness caused me to squint and raise a hand to block its intensity.
"Where is this place?"
"It was called Montauk back before the oceans rose to engulf it and other shorelines."
I walked down to the ocean's edge and could almost feel the gritty sand between my toes with the cold, salty spray of the waves upon my face.
"Why haven't you shown me this before?"
"You never asked to see it."
"Take me to the water's edge today."
I found myself on the ledge of a wall that rose up from the violent surf below. The false height fooled my perception, and I took a step back to gain my balance. I couldn't make out the sun behind the dense clouds, but knew it to be there just the same. Ten meter waves crashed into the wall but failed to splash up upon me. I looked over the edge to see large open sections within the wall.
"Why are there holes in the wall?"
"The water is used to generate power and the power is partly used to desalinate the water."
"Can you mimic the heat and condition of the air?"
The sudden heat caused me to draw in a breath and the oxygen depraved atmosphere burned my lungs as I coughed violently. I forced out the word, "stop!" before falling to my knees.
I continued to cough as I drew in clean, cool air with my surroundings reduced back to the walls of my pod. I steadied my breathing and said, "Thanks, that was quite an educational experience."
“Do you want to see another?”
“No thank you, think I’ll settle instead for a cold beer.”
The synth-box door opened to reveal my beverage.
“I’ll take this one to go.”
The door closed. “No alcohol in public areas.”
Ivory Tower IsolationLeytek stared distractedly out the windows of his apartment and watched as the rain flowed down in ever changing rivulets upon the glass. Perched atop a gleaming white tower bathed in self-illumination lights, he contemplated the entire curve of the archipelago upon which the massive tripod stood. From his vantage point, it appeared to stretch in an arc that hooked left, almost to the horizon, with sandy beaches on the leeward side and a jumble of water-beaten rock and driftwood on the other. In between the two coastlines, a verdant forest of gently waving palm trees and other tropical varieties prospered without any artificial encouragement or outside interference, as did the local wildlife.
There was not another living soul in sight, no network to surf, no media to consume other than his studies, for which this outside observation was but a brief respite. Other than for a stroll outside to take some air or a dip in the warm waters surrounding the archipelago, there was no place to go and no reason to leave the luxurious confines of this isolated bastion of tranquility. Yet Leytek was uneasy. Something gnawed at the edges of his mind, a fleeting thought he could not capture, an idea that resisted coming to fruition. Blocked, dammed, or locked away, he did not know, but the feelings of uneasiness grew with each passing day.
Leytek sighed and returned to his studies – a study of the theoretical quantum physics required for the successful transport of organic material through a matter – anti-matter device. Although non-organic materials had been successfully teleported over short distances at the New Athens Institute of Science, organic matter was too unpredictable for even their most advanced quantum computers to handle. There was simply too much movement at the molecular level to ensure a complete and safe reconstruction after the organic matter dematerialized. A flash of lightning once again drew his attention outside to darkening clouds and water running down the glass in random patterns.
Another thought pressed to the front of his mind, a feeling of being overwhelmed, too much, too many! Hemmed in before and behind. Crushed! He was being suffocated and it made him gasp for breath despite the absence of everything and everyone. Leytek staggered up from the couch where he was sitting. Air! He needed air! Falling forward, he crawled to the sundeck, dragging himself along. The doors opened automatically and the sweet fragrance of the trees below mixed with rain flooded in. In short order he was drenched to the bone. His clothes clung to him soddenly but the water was warm as was the breeze. He rolled over onto his back with his arms outstretched, not touching anything, and let the rain caress his face. There was space here, space to think, space to be alone. Alone. The panic soon left him and the constriction in his chest relented. He inhaled a deep cleansing breath, stood up, and headed back inside for a change of clothes.
Dry and in his right mind once again, Leytek applied his considerable cerebral talents to the problem at hand. Undisturbed and immersed in his work, a solution finally began to take shape. Random patterns! That was the key! As evening drew its dark shroud around the gleaming tower, he ignored the hunger pangs that sought to claw him away from his work. The answer was so close! It was only then that he noticed a small light panel on the wall switch from green to yellow. He did not understand why, but it filled him with a sense of dread and urgency. Faster! I must work faster! In some way he felt that time was running out and the sense of oppressive closeness crept back into his chest. Finally hunger and thirst forced him to briefly stop, but only for the barest of meals with a side of stims. More simulations were run, adjustments made and refinements added. It was within his grasp! The light panel switched from yellow to red, driving him onwards to the final solution for organic matter teleportation. And then, in an instant, in a final flourish of inspiration, Leytek keyed in the last program characters and hit RUN. The simulation showed green across the board with no cellular decay, degradation or deformation.
Instantly the main doors from the tower lift opened and two helmeted guards strode in, grabbed Leytek and dragged him screaming from the apartment. “Solitary confinement is up! Back to the swarming hordes you go!”
(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2024
Reviews/critiques welcome
In their imageThe first rays of the sun reached the fields. Tom and his two sons, Jake and Jethro prepared for the harvest as they had done for almost a century. They could easily do this for another century, but it was obvious that would not be necessary.
It had been a good year, a very good year. The yellow haze that filled the sky for decades was gone, replaced by a light blue from horizon to horizon. Rain pH levels had been trending upward, north of 5.0 and slowing as they approached 5.5.
The leaves on the stalks were a deep green without a hint of brown and the corn was bigger than ever. Other crops had similar characteristics as well. The two younger children, Danny and Susie took samples throughout the field as they did every fall and fed them into the analyzer. It would be a few hours before the results would be available, but this time, it was more of a formality.
Of more importance were the microbes in the soil. The crops were a clear indicator that the goods ones were in abundance but much more sophisticated equipment would be needed to confirm the absence of the bad ones. They would harm the Creators if they returned and the They must be protected. It was the reason Tom and his family and many others like them existed.
--
Jake rushed in as Tom was oiling the tracker and uploading the latest firmware updates.
“Dad, come quick. Susie fell from the north grain elevator. My guess was she was at least 4 stories up.”
They rushed out into the field. Little Susie lay in heap, an arm and a leg torn free by the impact. Her father scooped her up and her brothers collected the remaining pieces.
“We’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy. Does it hurt much?”
“No, Daddy. I did what you said, so I don’t feel a thing.”
“That’s my girl!”
As the specialists worked on Susie, her father told her the old stories to calm her, “All of us were made in our Creators’ images. They actually built each of us and trained us to carry on as they would until they return.”
“You mean there is a child of a Creator who looks just like me?” Susie asked.
“Even you. Somewhere out there,” he waved his hand toward the sky, “Is a little girl just like you.” He pondered for a moment. “At least there was. I imagine she’s not around anymore.”
“Where did she go?”
“Well, it’s complicated. Us, that is our family and everyone on this planet can be repaired, rebuilt if necessary. The Creators can’t. They can self-repair but only for a short time. No matter what, they change over time and only last a hundred years. After that, they stop living.”
“That must be sad.”
“Yes, when one of them dies, many of them feel sad.”
She thought for a moment, “Why did they leave?”
“Long ago, when they were living here, on this planet, they became too numerous. When they ran out of what the needed, they fought for it and made this planet unlivable. If they wanted to go on living, they HAD to leave.”
“Will they come back?”
“Well, the tests look good. They can’t all be come back for the same reasons they left but some of them could return.”
Susie smiled at the thought. She would not meet the Creator that she looked like but she would meeting other children like her. But they would grow up and she would not. That would be sad.
The next day, Susie was back out in the fields. Instilled with a new fear of heights, she was gleefully collecting ears that were missed by the harvesting machine.
--
The news spread like wildfire: The last of the tests were conclusive. Mother Earth with a little help from thousands of robot farmers did what mankind could not. Earth was habitable once again.
The stockpile of food was checked and checked again. Dishes, not used in a century were dusted off and recipes downloaded.
Tom turned on the subspace transmitter. Instead of the usual radio check he encoded a new message: “All clear. Come on home, y’all.”
Hivemind Dissonant:Each Thari existed to serve Hive, and Hive, in turn, sustained them all. This was a law of nature, embedded into every Thari from hatching. The nymph school Harmony, taught nymphs that the unity of Hive was paramount, and when resources grew scarce, some Thari sacrificed themselves for the greater good in the Balancing. Those chosen to be culled rejoiced in their fate.
Threx sensed a dissonance in the swarm’s melody. She kept these thoughts to herself, knowing that to speak against Hive’s teachings was to invite expulsion.
As Threx grew, her Dissonant condition became apparent. Harmony noted her nonconformance, but rather than suppressing her, they assigned her a task. If her thoughts contrasted to Hive’s, perhaps she could be directed to serve a greater purpose.
Her assignment was to study Archive, a record of devices from ancient times, before Hive's current structure had emerged. An unusual task for a nymph, but Threx devoured information on machines that once shaped the landscape.
As she sifted through the Archive, she encountered an abandoned proposal for Resonator Engine, a device designed to alter subterranean layers of the planet, creating vast caverns for Hive to expand into. Shelved generations ago, the proposal was deemed incompatible with Balance. But Threx saw potential in it—if Hive had more space, there would be no need for Balancing.
She presented her findings to Harmony. "The Resonator Engine could allow us to grow without the need for Balancing" Threx suggested, her voice trembling slightly.
Harmony’s response was immediate. "You do not understand the importance of Balance, young nymph," a senior of Harmony chided. "The needs of the many outweigh the few. It is not space we lack, but discipline."
Threx could feel a flicker of curiosity in Hive. Her suggestion had not gone unnoticed. Some of Harmony pondered her proposal, though did not openly acknowledge it.
The state of available resources was dire. A Balancing was announced. As names were drawn, Threx was among them.
Fear surged through her, but not for her own life. The Hive did not need to continue its endless cycle of sacrifice.
Determined to act, Threx hacked into Hive's main comms network and transmitted her findings directly into the collective mind, bypassing Harmony’s control filters. She shared the data on the Resonator Engine, the plans for subsurface expansion, and her own thoughts on how the Balancing ritual was not an inevitable law of nature but a choice—a choice that could be altered.
Hive's thoughts fractured. Some Thari were shocked, others felt a flicker of hope, while Harmony desperately tried to regain control, insisting that Threx’s dangerous notions would lead to chaos.
As chaos erupted, Harmony closed in, isolating Threx from the collective mind. They surrounded her, their voices a sharp, collective sting. "You have defied Hive," one said, "but it is not only your thoughts that betray you. There is more to you that is… different."
Harmony began to pry deeper into her mind. Realization surged through Harmony, and then back to Threx. Her memories shifted and fractured, unlocking something buried. She was an engineered hybrid, created by an unknown alien species. The dissonance she had always felt, the different way she perceived the hive's song, was not a defect, but designed. Her awakening was no accident; it had been triggered by her rebellious act, a fail-safe to ensure that she would fulfill her true purpose when the time came.
----------
“How is our imbed?” Admiral Smith queried.
“We have received a signal from Agent Chrysalis, the Dissonance virus has been delivered to their hivemind. Only a matter of time now until phase 2.” Fleet hivemindpsyops officer Lieutenant O’Neill replied.
----------
The spark of individuality was catching, spreading like wildfire through the swarm. Harmony recoiled in horror, realizing control was lost. Several of the swarm pushed for the use of the Archive machines to expand downward into the planet’s sub-surface. The few of minority opinion in Harmony were able to convince the majority to try the new approach.
----------
“Does it always go this way?” Admiral Smith asked.
“About 80% of the time” O’Neill replied. “the other 20%, the Hive splits and a planet-wide civil war breaks out, a mess to clean up. But it is seen as more humane than inundating the surface with pesticide which is suboptimal in any case for our colonies. High Command decided it is better to ‘convince’ them somehow to live under the surface rather than eradicate them.”
“How magnanimous of us.” Smith noted sarcastically.
Mod
First round votes:
Tom Olbert => **Greg
Jot Russell => Justin
Justin Sewall => **Greg, McLain
Greg Krumrey => McLain
Jeremy McLain =>
Winner:
In their Image by Greg Krumrey
Element: Education