The Future Is Short (6 page)
With my newly emerging presence, the electromagnetic energy of their thoughts created the reality that they preferred. I was not the chameleon; they were, changing me to suit themselves.
After the party, I retreated to my room to rest. Because of an unsuspecting glance, my mirror revealed the truth and held my nakedness before me. Small and too long-limbed; bulbous head; praying mantis eyes; smooth grey all over, I was neither girl nor boy. I cried out, "Mommy! Daddy!" stripped bare of my humanity in the surreal moment.
My parents quickly responded to my call. However, before the illusion of the child they had loved reformed from the electromagnetic energy of their own minds, they saw me for the alien that I was. The human instinct to kill that which was unknown erupted, unfettered by the years of love we had shared. They threw every object they could find at me to destroy me while they called in vain for a lost child.
My fully awakened Grey genome repelled their attacks. Blue fire burst from my body, a protective nimbus that kept me safe as I wept. The curtains ignited. The line of fire raced around the room, accelerated with my agony. The dolls melted and the white furniture exploded. My parents, trapped by their fear, went up in flaming glory to the next life.
A fireman found a smouldering picture of me in the rubble of our house before he found me unscathed under a pile of debris.
I saw him as he was.
My father smiled.
Marianne G. Petrino (aka Marianne G. Petrino-Schaad) was born in the Bronx, NY, in 1955, and that single fact has shaped her entire life. She has survived too many professions to count. She currently resides in Arlington, VA, with her husband and her cat, and enjoys a freelance lifestyle writing novels and pursuing voice acting.
[email protected]
http://www.ninetiger.net
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11.
Helmuth Kump
“Come in, Ottavio. Lucy has been speaking of nothing but your visit for days.”
Janet embraced him warmly, and led him inside. Ottavio looked around the old home in coastal Annefinn. It had been twenty years and a hundred battles, but it seemed like he’d just left for the academy.
“It’s great that you can assist Lu here in her own home.”
Janet laughed. “She needs little assistance, Ottavio. I am usually in her way, unless she needs to leave the compound. Although her blindness is now just a part of life; it has actually sharpened her mind and, of course, her gift.”
“Remarkable.” In Lucy’s living area, Ottavio smiled at the paintings and furnishings he remembered so well from boyhood.
As they rounded the corner to the den, Lucy stood waiting. “My dear boy, come hug your godmother.”
They embraced lovingly. Ottavio finally stepped back to look at her moist eyes and adoring smile. “You’ve not changed a bit, Lu! You are as beautiful as ever.”
“Of course.
How else would I have you remember me?”
***
After tea and much reminiscing, all three returned to the den and to the work ahead of them.
“Lu, I hope you know how thankful I am for your willingness to help the Federation. Your abilities are without peer, and, frankly, we are in a difficult position.”
“Of course, dear boy. We are so proud of everything you have accomplished. Our galaxy is a far better place for your efforts.”
Janet lit the oil lamp that sat between them on the table, and quietly stepped out of the den.
“The steady flame gives me a reference and a resonance, Ottavio. On Earth they once used clumsy terms such as sixth sense and clairvoyance. We Annefinns simply call it by its proper name, tuning. Give me your hands.”
Ottavio extended his hands across the table. Lucy’s grip was strong and full of resolve as she took an audible breath before speaking.
“The Federation has made great advances in the rights of all, and has earned the respect of the citizenry because of its strong moral agenda. That is now in jeopardy. Ottavio, you must be alert to those in the leadership who would sway the Federation from its life-saving mission and into ideology for its own sake. You already know who the demagogues are.”
“Yes, I do.” He shook his head in wonder, amazed at her prescience. “What can you tell me about Charinot?”
“So let us now focus on the tactical aspects. You are concerned that the cost of your victory on Charinot was further instability. Understandable, but this is not a concern anymore. Even now, your enemy meets in secret about how to cut its losses.”
Ottavio raised his voice in agitation. “Lu, for the safety of the galaxy, I cannot gamble. You must assure me you are absolutely certain of this.”
She gripped his hands tightly. “It is certain. No more resources in Charinot—this battle is won. You must regroup your talent and ships for the next conflict, which will occur much closer to home.”
As soon as she had uttered the word “home”, tears filled her eyes.
“What is it Lu?”
She paused. “It is your legacy, Ottavio. The citizens sing your praises all over the galaxy for what you have accomplished. My own godson! So much good has manifested, directly because of your efforts.”
Ottavio smiled. “I’ve devoted my entire career to bringing compassion, justice, and accountability back to the galaxy. Thank you for your validation, my dear Lu.”
***
After Ottavio had departed the compound, Lucy retired to her chamber. She knelt at the window, and her tears began anew.
“
Oro creator spiritus
. You have blessed me with the gift of tuning. I have always resolved to use this gift in a spirit of honesty and integrity. Today, however, I failed you. I beg your forgiveness for not revealing my godson’s fate to him. I pray you make him as brave in martyrdom as he was in his life of service. Amen.”
An information technology professional residing in Crafton, Pennsylvania, Helmuth Kump has had two short stories published and is presently germinating a science fiction novel. When not working or writing, the native of Queens, New York, enjoys running, playing drums, chess, opera, amateur radio, casino blackjack, books on metaphysics, and spending time with his two adult sons.
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12.
J.R. O’Neill
Light penetrated the vast expanse of green that was Joi-ne’s home. It was all he knew; the towering blades were tightly packed. He knew from their height that the gods would soon come again. Their coming announced by the noise, then the wind. So many of his kind met their deaths at the hands of the gods. He had been lucky; this was the sixtieth time that he had seen the light come over his home. Old, he realized, and tired. He made his way back to his lair; the young ones would soon bring his food. For this, he was thankful, as he did not have the energy, nor the desire, to forage for his own.
The arrival of Cok-nar brought him back to the present. “Queen Ak-ne requires your presence,
Elder.” Cok-nar said, setting his offering of food in front of Joi-ne.
“May I eat first?” Joi-ne’s frustration at being summoned tainted his tone.
“I was told to bring you now, Elder,” Cok-nar said, clearly hoping for cooperation.
“Let’s go, then,” Joi-ne said, much to his great-great-grandson’s relief.
Together they left Joi-ne’s niche and headed deep into the myriad of tunnels that made up the queendom of Ak-ne. They passed hundreds of soldier-workers on their way towards the center. All bowed low to Joi-ne, as they parted to let him through. Joi-ne felt empowered by their display of fealty; for a short time all was well with him as he straightened his many legs and again walked with the pride of his youth.
“How may I serve, my Queen?” he asked, marching into the presence of the great Queen Ak-ne.
“Joi-ne, my trusted one.” The queen lightly touched antennae with him. “These are troubling times. As you know, our daughter Sek-ne’s queendom has struggled. Now messengers tell of a new threat there: the gods have destroyed the countryside. Where once there was unending green, now there is a great plane of black rock. To make matters worse, her soldiers are under continuous assault from neighboring queendoms; they will soon be overwhelmed. I need you to save her.
Leaving the queen’s presence, Joi-ne ordered the soldiers to assemble on the surface. He charged Cok-nar to guard the queen and the queendom until his return. By the time the light started to fade, Joi-ne and his army were already making the approach to Sek-ne’s territory. Messengers were sent ahead to scout out the situation and announce their arrival.
Halfway through the dark, the messengers returned, announcing that Sek-ne was no more. All was laid to waste; the green was gone.
Joi-ne ordered the troops to follow him, as he started forward at a pace that brought looks of shock from the far younger troops at his command. Onward they marched, Joi-ne never slowing.
By the beginning of his sixty-first light, Joi-ne came to the ruins of Sek-ne’s queendom. Nothing was as it had been; instead of flat ground covered with the great green blades, there were now mountains of raw earth, with great peaks and valleys, and not a green blade left standing. What forces of the gods could have done this? It was total devastation. Out of grief, Joi-ne’s six legs buckled. He knew in his heart that never again would he see his beloved Sek-ne. Despair overwhelmed him as the realization that he had failed both his queen and their daughter settled on his soul.
Better to die here than face Ak-ne, he thought.
It was then, in the depths of his despair, that he felt the ground around him begin to move. Suddenly out from the torn and devastated ground came Sek-ne, exhausted and weak from the exertion of tunneling. She beheld the last thing she expected—Joi-ne her hero, her father, was here.
Joi-ne’s joy was immediate, and he scrambled to touch antennae with his daughter.
Together with only a few hundred survivors from Sek-ne’s queendom, the troops marched for home. It was late in the light when, close to home, Joi-ne stopped and climbed one of the great green shafts that made up his world. At the top, his gaze took in the blue of the heavens. It was then that he heard the noise, and the great wind of the gods, his last perception as he was sucked him from the top of the lawn, was the … whirring of the blade.
J.R. O’Neill—born in Boston, MA, the only son of a self-employed oilman. He credits his mom with instilling in him his love of books and adventures! Web sites:
http://www.jroneillwrites.com
;
https://www.facebook.com/pages/JR-ONeill/441408465936634
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