Natsuki
By J. L. Young We have been cut off from the rest of the system. Long have we been scrutinized from afar. Like worms under a magnifying glass. I think that’s the idiom. Maybe it’s bugs. No matter. We have no idea about the capabilities of their sensors and how deep they can penetrate, but they know we have dug deep into the crust of this isolated moon. To our knowledge, our newly built ships will form a blockade around our moon and remain vigilant until we build our capital ships to defend us from the onslaught to come. Or have they forgotten about us? It has been nearly two decades Universal System Time, since the bombardment that killed thousands of our people. Shall we venture out? That question has plagued the minds of many since the bombs stopped falling. A young woman on the morning of her adulthood scooted back her stool to relish the completion of a project that has taken the majority of her teenage years. She took a breath before bounding from the stool and entering an adjacent room. There, her father sat in an overstuffed chair, asleep while the vid player played. “Dad,” she did her best to attenuate her excitement. His eyes opened and rotated toward her. “What is it, Natsuki?” “It’s done! It’s ready to be fired up!” He sat skeptically. “You’re serious.” She nodded her head emphatically. She assisted him out of the chair and he followed her out to the project. Natsuki proceeded to pull back the old tarp, revealing an old space fighter and climbed into the cockpit. “Don’t fire that up, it may bring them back.” “Relax dad, I took the old transceiver and transponder out long ago. And the thruster is one of ours.” “I’m still not convinced it’s safe.” She tapped the hull. “I figured out what the material on the hull is.” “What?” he asked. “It reduces the radar cross-section and deflects ladar.” “The council’s not going to let you test it. It’s too dangerous. It’ll bring them back. We’ve lost too many of us. I have learned to enjoy the quiet, all the while knowing it may not last.” “We’ve put thousands of ships in orbit and nary a peep from the infamous they. And none of those relics are half as capable as this one.” “How do you know it’s capable of even flying, escaping Eileithyia’s gravity well, supporting your life while doing it all?” “I have done the tests. The simulations….” “The simulations! You haven’t run a real test.” “That’s why I need the council’s approval. You can get me an audience with them.” He looked away from her large glistening eyes. “I have voiced my displeasure with this, Natsuki. But I know determination when I see it. I wish you would have put it to use somewhere else.” He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “I’ll get you an audience with the council. You are as manipulative as your mother.”
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Fuel
By J. L. Young A motorcycle pulled next to a gas pump. The rider dismounted and walked toward the convenience store. It was clear in the lights of the island; the rider had a feminine figure. She approached the doors dressed from head to toe with black leather. Inside, she stepped up to the counter and rested her closed hand on the top, and said with a cold, direct tone, “Fuel.” “How much?” the attendant asked. The woman opened her hand and presented two perfectly round pebbles, gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “I can’t accept those, only cash, debit, or credit.” “Fuel,” the woman repeated as she raised her hand, palm side up, signaling to the pebbles to rise from the countertop. The attendant stepped back. “That’s a nice trick, but I can’t give you gas without money. I’m sorry.” Another attendant stepped out of an office behind the counter. “Is there a problem?” A flick of the wrist sent a pebble hurtling toward the man with supervisor above his name badge. It shot clear through his skull. Before he collapsed, the sphere returned, shedding the blood accumulated upon it and hovering beside the other. He fell and convulsed for a second before ceasing. The attendant stood in shock at what had transpired. “Fuel,” she repeated toward the attendant. “You killed him!” The woman’s non-reflective helmet glanced down at the supervisor and back up at the attendant. “Fuel.” The attendant approached the point-of-sale computer and entered a code. “There, the pump is ready. Take what you need.” The woman returned to the pump and replenished the tank. Her pebbles hovered above the counter as the attendant stared intently, fearing if she moved, she’d suffer the same fate as her supervisor. For the attendant, the nearly four and a half gallons took an eternity to fill. The pump shut off, and the woman stuffed the nozzle back into its receptacle. She sealed the tank and remounted the bike, started it, and sped off. The pebbles accelerated, breaking through the safety glass window, and returning to their owner. She braced herself on the counter. Her hands fumbled for the phone and dialed. “Nine one one, what is your emergency?” Frantically she spoke, “He’s dead! He’s dead! She killed him!” “Take a breath. What’s your name?” She squeezed her eyes shut and forced a breath in and out. “Ellie. Ellie Adino.” “That’s a beautiful name, Ellie. Tell me what happened.” “My boss. Some evil bitch came into the store and killed my boss!” “I’m sending someone to help. Where are you located?” Ellie looked down at her supervisor’s soulless eyes staring back at her. She swallowed and her voice shifted and wavered. “13338 Central St. It’s the Dashin’ Dino Fuel station.” “I know it well, Ellie. I’ll stay on the line until the officers arrive.” |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
May 2024
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