My first novel, Zahrah the Windseeker, is one of three books shortlisted for the Wole Soyinka Prize for Literature.The full shortlist:Beast of The Nation by Uzodinma Iweala (I've read this…absolutely phenomenal)Zahrah The Windseeker by Nnedi Okorafor (read this, too. Fabulous. Ha ha)The Weaving Looms by Wale Okediran (Looking forward to getting my hands on this one)If all goes as suddenly planned I'll be in Nigeria very very soon meeting the amazing Wole Soyinka at the awards ceremony!View more details in a recent article from the Guardian (a Nigerian newspaper) hereFor more info about this prize, go to: http://luminafoundationsoyinkaprize.com/prize_about.htmRead more…
Well, now that I've sent The Constant Tower off (in it's very messy state) to my editor, I can now return to Dark Inheritance. So, FYE: here is the fourth chapter of Dark Inheritance. Hope you enjoy. Am gonna try to finish this for nanowrimo. -C#As a child Ethan had feared her. He would lay in his bedroom, his head covered under the Mickey Mouse blankets, hoping she would not come. But she always did. At least two nights a week, the headless female torso would materialize in his room. His bedroom door would clamp itself shut under his shaking hands. His hands would go clammy and inside his Spiderman slippers, his little hammer-toed feet would grow cold. He would shout and plead and beg the looming specter to not hurt him, to just leave, leave, please, please! She would call to him, laughing. And that was damn strange because she had no mouth, at least no physical one his little kid eyes could see. When she spoke, her voice grated, like fingernails against a blackboard, and it sounded muffled as if it came from behind some thick invisible wall. Which he figured was understandable because, after all, she had no mouth.He tried to explain all this to his mother, tried to explain how the smell of death would fill the room, and the room would go cold. He followed his mother around when bedtime came, telling her repeatedly that a naked female spirit without a head lived in the walls and came to visit him at nights and could his mother please sleep in his room with him, or maybe could he sleep with her in hers, especially since now his daddy had run off. He told his mother, “when she comes into the room, the room smells like dead people.”His mother stroked his bowl-cut hair and responded, “Son, how do you know how dead people smell?”He answered, “I just know.”One day, his mother asked if he wanted to switch rooms with his sister, Ruth. Such a question only showed she didn’t believe him. He thought of Ruthie alone in that room and what the spirit would do to her. He decided he didn’t want Ruthie to be hurt. “I’ll stay in my room,” he said. He said this although he was sure the spirit would kill him but he was prepared to fight her. He fought her a long while. Needless to say, he figured it best to not even mention that the spirit tried to force sex on him.At one point he told his Uncle Li all about it. His uncle said it was a demon, that such things were common. His uncle tried to persuade his mother to take him to a Shinto priests. But his Uncle Li was a drunk and his parents were good modern Chinese Christians – Methodists. They told his uncle to stop filling Ethan’s head with superstitious old stories. A week after that, his uncle died suddenly. He had left a note among his sparse belongings telling the family the spirit was going to kill him.Ethan got to reading the Bible and visiting the local shrines whenever the family went to Chinatown. He took to buying praying candles at the supermarket and burning them on rocks in the woods near their upstate New York home. His mother noticed his new-found spirituality. She said it was good if he studied the spirituality of other cultures but he shouldn’t go overboard. His older brother, Arnold, said he was just a silly kid turning to religion because his dad had deserted the family for his sleazy co-worker. Ethan listened to them, tried to mull over their words and sort through what was happening in his room at nights. He read about generational curses. He read about haunted houses. He read about psychosis, mental illness, and depression. But nothing helped and after a while it just seemed to him that neither Buddha nor the Christian God were strong enough to help him. He began to believe the entire thing was his karma. Yet, he kept wondering why such a bad thing, such a weird thing, should happen to him.During all that time the Beloved kept attempting to seduce him. She would tell him to lift the covers, to not be afraid of him, that she was there to protect him and love him. The silky smoothness of her ice-cold breasts, the rawness of the moist place between her legs (even though she smelled like garbage and a dead dog he once found in the woods)— they seduced. After a while, he gave in to her. What joy she brought him! What shame too! Terrified at first at the sudden venture into sexuality, he grew to like the wild force of her sex, grew to love her. But she was headless, mouthless, lifeless.He was no more than eight years when the visitation began and about ten when he began to give in to her. That was the day when he realized that goodness was all a crock. Or at least the power of goodness. Heck, his dad wouldn’t have dumped his mom if the world so was good and if God had any control. But still, he did feel that he was a bit abnormal. He knew that love between a spirit and a human could never be permanent. One day, he told the Beloved so.She answered him, “One day, you will touch my human flesh, hear my human voice, and enjoy my human body.”“How will I know you?” he asked. After all, the Beloved had no head.“You will find me,” she answered. “Seek me. Love many women. Seek and you will find me.”And that’s what he did. He had dated. Many women, of all colors. But none of them made his body thrill as much as the Beloved did. There was always something lacking. He told this to the Beloved when she visited him. “I searched,” he pleaded, “and none of these women give me the pleasure that you do. Their bodies aren’t as cold as yours. They don’t look like you. They don’t smell like death.”“You will have to search for me in other places,” she said. “Climb windows, enter locked houses. Find me. I will live in one of those women. Find me, and pleasure me.”And that’s what he began doing. He was eighteen when he raped the first girl. But even then, the pleasure was nothing compared to what the Beloved gave him. He didn’t like to see the girl lying there under him, crying. The Beloved told him that guilt prevented him from enjoying himself, that he should cast guilt aside. The Beloved had spoken the truth. After the fifth rape, he began to allow pleasure to flow into his body. The pleasure helped to push the guilt away. When he pushed himself into the women, he felt the Beloved’s joy working inside him. Now, sitting on his bed in Attica, he no longer felt or even understood the terror that used to make his little boy body tremble.The Beloved had also been faithful. She always protected him. Even when he murdered them two girls. The Beloved had told him to, and he understood the expedience of it. There was little about the Beloved’s commands that he never understood. She was always right. Hadn’t she told him to decapitate several of the women he had raped? To make them in her image? Hadn’t he done that? And those women’s bodies had never been found. If only he had listened and had avoided the woman in the mall, the woman who turned out to be the mother of his Beloved son. If he had done as the Beloved had ordered, he would not have ended up in jail.He lay in his cell remembering his trial and thinking. How strange it had been to hear the court officers, the prosecutors, and the cops call him a rapist! What kind of rapist would kneel between the legs of a woman to pleasure her? They had not understood that. Detective Ramsey had even called him a sick puppy. Stupid woman! When he got released, he wouldn’t immediately kill her though. That was just the kind of thing the cops would expect of him. He’d bide his time. Besides there were more important things to do. He still had to find his son. The Beloved wanted that. And he had to find the Beloved also. The Beloved with a head, a mouth, human flesh. He would search for her as long as it took....and he would find her.
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Posted by Night Manager on October 16, 2008 at 9:22am
This is just about where things started to go wrong. I had a plan... I SWEAR I had a plan. But instead of this being a short story it's reading more like a pilot for a TV show and I don't know how to end it as just a short story! Hell, I'm WAAAAY off what I started to write which is why the title makes no sense“It’s a façade! Pull it out!” Wade ordered. He and Wilson stood back as two of the Rangers stepped forward. Another of the white and blue armored men moved into flanking positions behind them, cocking and raising his rifle. A fourth was holding what looked like an older model cellular phone; large with a long antenna and wide digital face screen.“Signal’s strong.” He reported. “Can’t break the encrypt but it’s reading clear. Someone’s online.”With a crack the huge crate broke away from the others it stood against. A flash of white streaked by too fast for the Rangers moving the crate to react to.“Hold your fire!” Wilson yelled too late as the rifle report filled the air. The Rangers were well trained and disciplined; the rifle stopped firing as the order was given. Never the less the result was there was a woman lying face down on the hard warehouse floor her white lab coat covered in blood.“Damn it!” Wilson cursed.“What?” Wade looked apathetic. “It’s what we came here for right?”“We are looking for the God damned tech!” Wilson snapped. “Only she…”His mouth snapped shut as a pained gasp came from the woman on the ground. Immediately one of the Rangers moved up to her. He kicked away the small black device lying next to her and leaned down and lifted the lab coat.“She caught two in the thigh”, he reported. “Wounds not bad; she’ll survive.”“What’s this?” Wade asked as he picked up the handheld she had dropped. “Micro terminal. Looks like the source of your signal.”Wilson snatched the monitor from him and turned it on. The Eagle logo flashed at him before the desktop came up. He drew his finger across the screen but nothing happened.“Security feature.” Wade said looking over his shoulder. “They come with keys… cards, finger covers, chipped pens… it won’t work without it.”Wilson quickly stepped by the Ranger, knelt down and grabbed the woman roughly by her long black hair. He turned her face around until her pain filled eyes met his.“Remember me little whore?” he said in a whisper. “You got something for me?”“Sir there’s a door here!” one of the Rangers reported. In the hiding space behind the crate against the wall of the warehouse there was indeed a door.Wade walked over and looked it up and down. “Now how did that not show up on the Satellite imager?” he looked back to the woman on the ground. “It’s a security door too. Probably rigged with… WATCH IT!”The knife flashed and a bright red line of blood streaked across the room. Wilson screamed and fell back, trying to get away from the black hunting knife. Lucky for him the injury to the woman’s leg kept her from being able to chase after him. Otherwise she might have gutted him with her second lunge. As it was he rolled backward without being cut again, clutching his face while Wade and two of the Rangers pinned the woman.“CHRIST!” Wade grabbed the woman’s wrist as she tried unsuccessfully to drive it through the breast plate of one of the Rangers. It took hardly any effort to get the knife from her then and she cried out in anguish as he pried it from her hand.Knife in hand Wade turned to see Wilson standing still holding his face his hands now soaked with blood but not so much that it looked life threatening.“Fucking bitch!” Wilson was shaking with rage. “I should have popped you when I…” but Wilson stopped himself. One of the Rangers was pulling at the man’s hands trying to get a look at the wound.“Sliced all the way through the cheek…” he reported.After a quick glance back down at the woman Wade turned his attention to Wilson. “Damn. She cut you a nice new smirk.”“We need to get you to a Medi-unit.” The Ranger was saying but Wilson ignored him and pushed past Wade on his way back to the woman still pinned to the ground.“Whoa!” Wade warned him. “We still need the tech remember.” But he was stifling a laugh as he said it.“Stand her up.” Wilson ordered and the two men who were pinning her pulled the woman to her feet. She gasped in pain and leaned heavily on her right side trying to give her wounded left leg respite.“Okay… okay Ms. Corrigan…” Wilson was speaking through clenched teeth. “You have no idea how bad it’s going to get for you now.”But the dark haired woman just glared back at him through pain filled eyes and said nothing. Lightning fast his hand whipped out and smashed her in the face. Her long black hair flew wildly as her head snapped back from the blow. She sagged a bit in the Ranger’s arms and her hair covered her face. Wilson reached and savagely grabbed her by the throat and forced her head back up.There was blood all over her pale face. A lot dripped down from her nose and around her mouth but most of it was smeared across her right cheek; blood from Wilson’s own hand.“Back to business?” Wade reminded him. Wilson nodded with the same shaky, barely controlled rage. Still holding the woman by her throat he pulled her face close to his.“Where is the fucking Engine, Corrigan?”Her breathing was as haggard as his was. Bloody spittle slid down her chin, mixing with the blood flowing from her nose. But her eyes were defiant; she remained silent.“Still got nothing on this thing.” One Ranger waved the small Computer unit with frustration.“She just used it. We need her key card.” Wade stepped forward and reached into the woman’s lab jacket pockets. Then he frisked her thoroughly until;“Here it is.” He held up the stylus then handed it to the Ranger with her device. “So what exactly was the deal?”Wilson spit a little blood himself. “Simple. She sold us the specs for the Engine. Now we’re here to collect.”“You…” the woman uttered her voice cracking. “… you killed him.”Wade smiled, looking sidelong at Wilson who was trying not to look back at him. “The way I heard…” he began, still keeping an eye on Wilson for his reaction. “… you’re the one did your boss in. I saw the body. Decapitation’s an ugly way to do someone you once called friend.”The woman looked from one man to the other. A defiant smile slid across her lips. “You weren’t supposed to do it. You weren’t supposed…”Another back hand ripped across her face. Blood gushed from her nose, seeped from both corners of her mouth. Wilson drew his hand back for another strike.“Alright, alright!” Wade grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him away. His face was a mean smirk. “Don’t forget we’re here for the tech. Don’t want to mess that up… twice apparently.”“Don’t think you’re so smart Wade.” Wilson turned his glare to his partner. “She cut the son of a bitches head off.”Wade’s eyes narrowed and he looked from Wilson to the woman and then back again. The smirk slid further up his cheek. “Maybe… but was he alive when she did it?”The snort was halting and sounded a little wet. Wade turned back to the woman. Her head was down and her long black hair covered her face. She shook with the second snort.“The Jones won’t like that too bit of news.” She said slowly leaning her head up and flashing a smirk of her own.Wilson’s eyes flared with anger but Wade stepped in between them again. “Now why would you cut off a dead man’s head?”“You… you won’t find the Engine.” She said desperately.“Got it!” The Ranger who was working on her portable device handed it and the stylus over to Wade. He looked at the screen and tapped it a couple of times with the stylus.“Yea… good encrypt…” Wade said concentrating on the screen. “But it’s LAST month’s encrypt…” and after another tap of the stylus the screen color changed.“What the hell are you monitoring?” he said tapping the screen a few more times.“SIR!” one of the Rangers had raised and cocked his rifle. He was peering into the remains of the fake crate. The security door that they had been ignoring after the knife attack was wide open.“Who the hell opened that door?” Wilson hissed.“Look behind you.” The whisper came from the woman whose head had fallen back down. Wilson snorted himself, unwilling to take the bait. Then he noticed Wade looking past him, just over his shoulder. The smirk was gone. The Rangers turned together and Wilson whirled around and his jaw dropped.It stood six and a half feet tall. First Wilson thought he was looking at some kind of chrome skeleton covered with dark plates of the same metal as the woman’s blade. The dim warehouse lights gleamed softly off the dark metal coverings which flexed and rotated minutely seeming to almost to float lightly about the chrome skeleton. The thing stood on three pronged feet and flexed four digits at the ends of its two long arms. The dark plates covered its joints, torso and also its head. There smaller shifting plates formed a mask of where they shifted, twitched and fluttered like an insect’s wings. Those smaller plates danced around a trio of cylindrical lens cases that moved in unison sweeping over the group of Rangers.“Oh shit.”
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no science fictionThe SagesWhen I was a little boyWhen men appeared as immortal giantsIt was they whom I idolizedTheir lives I wanted without knowing their plightsMy dreams were blessed with ignoranceNow I am a young man only slightly wiser of the nature of lifeI now know the truth of these menI listen to the wisdom of these sagesThey warn me of every misfortune I would come uponI didn’t listen, because I know allEveryday I live I learn how wrong I amWith that knowledge I come closer to being one of the sages
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Posted by Night Manager on October 12, 2008 at 12:29am
3rd in the installment. At this point it still flowed but I was running over on my word count.Her hand was clamped tight over her mouth. She had been startled when the lid had hit the ground and could not help jumping. Now everything on the other side of the crates had gone quiet. They had heard her. Did they know where she was?Then the heavy stomp of boots bounced echoes off of the walls around her. They stopped on the far side of the crate she was hiding behind. Their voices were muffled but she heard barking orders and then the echoes of the boots spreading out in every direction.Her lungs began to ache and she realized that she had been holding her breath. With the boots stomping about loudly she pulled her hand away from her mouth and chanced a quick gulp of air.Luckily the boots never noticed, so she took another. She listened while more harsh voices barked out more orders. With the noise from the increased activity she decided it might be safe to check her bag. Carefully, while still in a crouch, she swiveled around on her toes. The scratchy sound of her shoes twisting on the concrete floor went unnoticed. Beside her lay a black leather bag, misshapen and bulging. As quietly as she could she pulled on the zipper and opened it halfway. Boot steps came close to the other side of the crate and she paused but they continued on and away. She pushed her hand deeply into the bag, stopping every few centimeters because something in the bag would knock not so quietly against something else. Once she got her hands on what she wanted it took even longer to get it out because the bag was so full.Finally the device came free. It was about twice the size of her fist with a small liquid crystal display covering one half and a small touchpad the other. With her thumb she rolled a small dial then pressed a small button on its side. The display came to life bathing her face with its soft blue light. A circular logo flashed for a moment and then the screen read ready displaying a common computer desktop. She reached into the jacket of the long white lab coat she was wearing and withdrew a small stylus. The tip lit up as the stylus made contact and she then drew it across the touch pad maneuvering the on screen pointer towards a javelin shaped icon.The sharp crack of splintering wood startled her again and she fell backwards onto her butt.Had they seen the light?No. Someone was opening another of the crates; the one she was leaning against. In her panic she had pressed the small device to her chest to cover the glow of the light though she knew rationally that the light was not bright enough to be seen past her hiding space. With a tiny breath she pulled it away from her chest.She also knew that they would find nothing in the crate that would lead them to her hiding place. It was filled with construction supplies for what would have been their new offices in downtown Philadelphia.They would find no prints. She had worn gloves. They would find no footprints. She had the staff sweep the floor before she got here. They would not find her.All this she knew rationally but never the less her hand ached as it held a viselike grip on the second item she had pulled from her bag. She had snatched it out of reflex when the second crate had opened and now held it low and ready to use. It was the only weapon she could get past the security check points and she knew how to use it. The long hunting knife had an onyx blade that reflected very little of the soft blue light.She turned her concentration back to the small screen and noted the progress bar that had appeared beneath it. Her heart began to race. Gritting her teeth she tried to calm herself down. There was still much to do.Another tap with the stylus and another icon, this one the shape of a dollar sign, flashed and opened. A small hour glass spun for a moment and she felt her anxiety rise even more. So much depended on every little detail working out the way she had planned. Even one mistake and it would be over then she would most likely find herself strapped down with a needle in her arm.The small digital hour glass stopped spinning and the screen changed from soft blue to a dull gray white. The top of the screen now displayed the corporate logo of a bank. A few more taps with the stylus and she almost breathed the sigh of relief out loud.The money was there.It was going to work.Hard running boots stampeded nearby and voices were raised in harsh warning on the other side of her crate. She pressed the screen to her chest again and clenched the knife tightly. It was okay, she told herself, they couldn’t know. The small device began to vibrate against her and she pulled it away from her now sweat soaked blouse to see why. A red and yellow window had opened in the bottom right corner flashing a warning:ALERT CONNECTION MONITORED!.
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please critisize“This has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done” said Maricus. Isn’t there another way to figure this out?“Well this is the most accurate way we have” said Dr. Langdon. “If you have a better way of figuring this out, I’d be glad to hear it.” Maricus sat quietly for a moment.“No I don’t have a better way, but I was just wondering do we really need to know?” asked Maricus after a moment. Dr. Langdon pondered.“Yes” he replied after a while. “It’s not like you’re really dieing. You get to come back after a few minutes.” Maricus thought about it, and said nothing else.They resumed changing their clothes in the dressing room. They removed their causal attire and replaced them with plain white hospital scrubs. They put their belongings into their respective lockers, and exited the dressing rooms. They walked into the hallway and meet two more mean in identical attire.“Are you gentlemen ready?” asked Dr. Langdon.“Ready as we’ll ever be” said one of the men.“Not sure if I still want to go through with this” said the other man.“Good lord, am I the only one with any balls around here” asked Dr. Langdon jokingly. “Fawkes, I’m surprised at you” he said referring to the person that had spoken previous to him. “You’re usually the brave one. We’ve already got enough adversity coming from outside sources, the last thing we need is someone getting cold feet at the last second. So if anyone wants out, they say so now.” The hallway was silent. “Very well, let’s do this” Dr. Langdon said beginning to walk. The other men followed behind him.They walked down the hallway, passing doors with signs that read:Dr. Samuel WashingtonDepartment of Biblical ScienceDr. Edward LyonsDepartment of DivinityDr. Marcus RossDepartment of Biological Creationism.They reached a pair of swinging doors. Dr. Langdon pushed through them. On the other side stood a man wearing a black suit with a red tie. The lapel of the suit had a crucifix pin on it.“Dr. Lennon, to what do we owe the surprise?” asked Dr. Langdon. “If it is about stopping the experiment, I will have to ask you to talk to me about it afterwards becauseWe’re about to go do the experiment.”“Langdon, I’ve previously been against the experiment because of its lack of Christian morals, which I am still against, but now I think your team is in danger.“What kind of danger?” asked Dr. Langdon.“I think someone might pull the plug on you guys” said Dr. Lennon.“Lennon, we have everything set up well here” said Dr. Langdon. We’ve covered every corner on this. Nobody is going to pull the plug”.“But Langdon there are forces at work here that you don’t see” Dr. Lennon said in solemn voice.Dr. Langdon began to chuckle. “What forces, Aliens” the other men began to laugh all except for Dr. Lennon. “Let’s do this before the Aliens get here guys” Dr. Langdon joked. The group of men walked away leaving Dr. Lennon do watch them disappear through another pair of double doors.“The men walked into what appeared to be a well illuminated surgical auditorium. In the center there were four tables with IV machines beside them. At the head of each of the tables there was a computer, each with a man controlling it. The spectator section of the auditorium was full of people, all of whom were gazing at the four men who had just entered, and whispering among themselves. In the middle of the surgical floor was a podium with a microphone on top.Dr. Langdon walked to the podium. The other men stood on either side of him. “Good evening, ladies, and gentlemen” Dr. Langdon began. “I would like to welcome you to SIC, the Scientific Institute of Creationism. Here men from all over the world have come together in and attempt to prove the theories of Creationism. We are glad that you have attended today, to witness this day that shall most defiantly go down in the pages of history. Today we shall find sufficient evidence to prove the theory of intelligent design, and possibly disprove the theory of evolution. How will we do so? We believe that the only way to prove that there is a God is to see him. So that is exactly what we plan to do here today.Murmurs erupted throughout the auditorium. “How do you plan to do that?” One of the men shouted from the observation balcony.“Well” Dr. Langdon continued. “The bible teaches us that when we die we shall come before God in judgment. We believe this is the only surefire way to se God.”Murmurs once again echoed through the auditorium. “So you plan to kill yourself?” someone shouted out.“We will not be breathing, and we won’t have a heartbeat, but we will regain them after twenty minutes. We will use a newly developed chemical, named Babylonium, which will stop our heartbeat and breathing. After our twenty minutes, Babylonium will restart our heartbeat and breathing. By that time we believe we will have had contact with the Supreme Being.”The room was quiet. “So you basically plan to trick God.” Someone shouted out.“We do not plan to trick him; we just mean to establish contact” Replied Dr. Langdon.“How do you know the drug will work in stopping your heartbeat, and breathing, and then restarting them?“The medicine” said Dr. Langdon has been thoroughly tested on animals. This is the first time it will be used on a human. Still we are confident that it will work.”“How do we know that you will really be dead?” asked another man. “And how do we know that it won’t be a biased answer?”“To your first question” said Dr. Langdon. “We have an Electrocardiogram monitoring our heartbeats that you can see on the TV in the observation balcony. We also have four doctors from local hospitals and medical school that will be down here observing, and manually checking us for a heartbeat. For your question about knowing if it is the truth I am taking three other men. The one to my left is Dr. Amahad Rashik. He is a professor of Islamic studies at Florida State University. Since he practices another religion he will not lie and just say that he saw God. The man to my close left is Dr. Gary Fawkes, who is a professor of philosophy at Duke University. He is a atheist who works with the Institute for Humanist Studies, and is a member of the South Place Ethical Society. With him on the team he will take out the chance of religious bias. To my far left is Maricus Battle. He is a Graduate student at Harvard Divinity School, pursuing a master of divinity. He has a bachelor’s degree in ethics from Howard University and is also a Notary Public. He will ensure the truth is being told.“This is blasphemy” said another voice from the balcony.“So we’ve been told” said Dr. Langdon. “Many religious groups have strongly opposed the experiment for various reasons. We believe it is in the interest of the future of man kind that we do this experiment. For to long man has wondered the existence of God. The belief has even halted scientific advances in fear of offending God. Today man shall wonder no longer. The experiment will begin in five minutes.”The men retreated from the podium. “I can’t believe we are about to do this” said Dr. Rashik. The men came together in a huddle.“Hope the Babylonium works” said Maricus. “I don’t have a life insurance policy yet.“Everything will work out fine” said Dr. Fawkes. “If it doesn’t, what will we care, we’ll be dead.”“We won’t die” said Dr. Langdon. “Now lets get to our tables and do this. We are about to see god, and prove or disprove the age old question of a Supreme Being.”The men walked to their tables and laid down on them. A sense of excitement filled the room. All was silent. An age old question was about to be answered. The four men were nervous because they were about to kill themselves, and more importantly stand before god himself.The men who were behind the computers started to connect the IV machines that would administer the Babylonium. They sanitized the area were they were going to put the needle. Then they stuck it in. The men’s faces twisted in a quick moment of pain, but soon were relieved. The technicians then went to there computers and started the flow of Babylonium into their bodies. They lay on the table breathing heavily. Their eyes were looking every which way. Soon there eyes began to close. The lines on the Electrocardiogram began to flatten. Soon the line became completely flat. A beep echoed through the room.The four men found themselves in fog. There was no sound. There was nothing. There were just the four men. They looked around expecting to see something or at least hear something. But there was nothing.“I am ready for you gentlemen” said a loud voice suddenly. Then the four men found themselves in an office. The office had bare white walls with an oak desk. A man was sitting behind the desk looking at the frightened men chuckling. He wore a white three-piece suit, and had a well groomed beard on his face. “Welcome gentlemen” he said. “We’ve been expecting you.”The men stood dumbfounded before the mans desk. But the worst off was Fawkes who was in a state only describable as insanity. “I believe you gentlemen have your answer now don’t you?” said the man behind the desk.“There is a God” said Fawkes, hardly believing his own words.“You admit without seeing him yet” said the man. “That’s strange for a man of science like you.”“So you’re not God” said Langdon finally having the courage to speak up.“No, I’m not” said the man. “You will see him in a moment. For the record when you do see him, you should bow down.”“Who are you then?” asked Maricus.“I’m an angel” the man replied.“So there is a Supreme Being” said Langdon.“Yes” said the man.“Can we talk to him?” asked Langdon.“No need to be in such hurry” replied the man. “Trust me. You will get your turn.”“But we have to hurry up” said Langdon.“Trust me” said the man. “You have plenty of time.“You don’t understand” said Langdon. “We are only going to be up here for twenty minutes, and then we are coming back to life.”“I know your plan” said the man chuckling. “It’s not going to work.”“What!” exclaimed the men simultaneously.“You gentlemen really thought you could cheat God?” said the man chuckling. “There’s a reason men don’t know for sure that God exist. If they did what would be the point of life. God put man on earth to test his faith. If man knew for sure that God existed man would have no faith, he would know. Knowing takes away the need for faith. Knowing everything is a horrible existence because you will have nothing to question, and having nothing to question is a fate much worst than death.”“There is no purpose in questioning if you aren’t going to make an effort to figure it out” retorted Langdon.“True” said the man. “God gave man a quizzical nature. A sense of curiosity that causes a hunger that can only be feed by knowledge. I suppose it’s not your fault. It’s your nature. I suppose if man didn’t have that sense of wonder he would be no more than a monkey that stood upright. Well still we knew it would come to this. God made it so it would happen this way. Gregory he gave you sense of curiosity greater than most other men. Your yearning to understand everything has become apparent in this fiasco. It was truly your destiny for you and your friend’s lives to end like this.”The men gave each other a quick look. “End” they said in unison.The man began to chuckle. “You didn’t expect us to send you back down there and mess life up for everyone else did you?” The men stood dumbfounded again. “At this moment the doctors who were watching over you have declared you legally, and irreversibly dead.”“How?” asked Langdon.“You should have listened to your friend Frederick Lennon” said the man. “There were forces at work there that weren’t visible. You should do a little more of a background check on the men who you leave your life in the hands of. The technicians were Catholics. If you remember one of the religious groups that opposed the experiment was the Catholic Church. You see in the event that you did cross into the other side and did not see God; you would come back and tell everyone that there was no God. If you did do that they would loss a considerable amount of influence in the world. They were not willing to allow that to happen. Lets just say some officials at the Vatican told the technicians that if they put a few ounces more of the Babylonium, which would then make it lethal, in each of your IV `s that your deaths would be used as atonement for all their sins, and lets just say those technicians had quite a few skeletons in the closet.”The men stood there speechless.“We’re dead” said Maricus.“As a door knob” replied the man.“We can’t go back” said Rashik.“That is highly unlikely. All you can do now is stand before God in judgment, and maybe then God will let you go back” said the man.“How do we do that?” asked Langdon.“Just walk through that door” said the man. “God has the final say. He’s going to place judgment on you.” The man opened a folder. “By the looks of it” he said looking at some papers in the folder. “All of you are going to have a lot to answer for.”“Wait it’s not fair” said Fawkes desperately. “I didn’t know there was a God, so I didn’t live right.”“That’s what faith is for” said the man. “Now its time.” He said pointing to the door in the corner near his desk.“What if we don’t go?” asked Fawkes.“Then things could get ugly” said the man.The men walked towards the door. They never knew they would be so afraid to stand before God. Langdon reached the door. He placed his hand on the gold door knob. He looked behind him. He looked at the men he would stand before God with. All of them with the fear of God in their hearts. Langdon opened the door. A bright light swallowed up the room.
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Posted by Night Manager on October 3, 2008 at 3:30pm
Again this is now part TWO of the 1st story I had written for the BSFS anthology but I thought the one I did submit was better.REBIRTH OF SLICK part 2“You had me bring three Rangers for ‘dis?” Wade kicked a crumpled soda can across the warehouse floor. He resisted an urge to chase after it and kick it again.“She’s a murderer; very dangerous.” Wilson answered. They were both dressed in neat business suits, both Air Force blue. Wilson was walking along one long row of stacked crates, reading the labels on each as he went. He was an older man, sporting a close cut ring of white hair about his head and a hard lined face. His look was grim, his eyes drawn tight as he continued his inspection.The warehouse was well lit but huge stacks of wooden and metal crates cast vast shadows along the far walls. The floor had been swept but the job had been left incomplete with mounds of trash and dirt left in the corners. The most of the crates were stamped with a company logo; an eagle’s head and wing.“Girl’s not much more ‘an a hun’ert pounds” Wade spat back. “Could ‘a just sent me.” Wade was a much younger man, dark haired with a wickedly cut goatee. The two men’s suits were identical but Wade’s tie was missing and his shirt unbuttoned. He was not paying much attention to the crates. Instead he was checking the messages on his phone.“So we could find you the way we found Knox?” Wilson asked.Wade ruffled at that remark a bit and glanced over his shoulder. Against the far wall by the one door in view stood a man in blue fatigues covered by light white body armor. He was carrying a heavy looking rifle, glossy black in color with a wide barrel. An old standard issue Forty-Five was strapped to his hip along with spare clips for the gun. A visor dangled from his neck so Wade could clearly see the amusement in the man’s eyes… and the smirk as well.“That was a nasty piece of work…” he admitted. “But Knox wasn’t a soldier. He was a rich nigger that got too big for his britches. Besides… I thought she worked for us.” Wade snapped his cell phone shut and looked around the room for anything of interest.“That’s what we thought but looks like she had an agenda of her own.” Wilson moved on from the crate he had been examining and walked further into the room. “She gave up Knox but not his technology.”Wade followed him across the room and when they both went beyond the Ranger’s field of vision he followed as well. As soon as he left another similarly outfitted man stepped into the room to stand in his place.“No new tech toys for Five Stars?” Wade’s voice was a bit mocking. “That engine would have been a nice coup. No Engine equals no flying Rangers.”“The company has already invested in the new program. Without that damn engine we’ll have wasted millions in advertising.” Wilson tore another packing list off of a crate, read it and discarded it with a grunt.“Yea I’ve seen the new ads... Glossy. ‘Just look up...” His raised his voice mockingly. “Five Stars Security is shining down.’ You know what I especially like?” Wade bent, picked up the discarded piece of paper and regarded it. “I like the shot of the one Ranger standing atop the American Commerce Building, with the top spire all decked out in Five Stars colors now, all blond haired blue eyed and very ‘All-American’. But Philly ain’t buyin’ it. You know, Analog’s been tellin’ folks for months that we set up Knox to steal the tech.”“I hate those fucking pirate transmissions. Watch yourself. UNG!”Wade’s head snapped up when Wilson forcefully cracked open one of the crates. Dust flew as the lid hit the floor. The crate was so large that Wilson had to stand on tip toe just to see down inside.“There’s nothing here”, he said in frustration. “Not the tech… and certainly not the…” he cocked his head suddenly.Wade raised his eyes in genuine interest. “What is it?”Wilson reached into his suit jacket and withdrew a Forty-Five. “Get the Rangers in here.”
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Posted by Night Manager on September 26, 2008 at 3:30pm
WINTER GHOST P 6Footsteps in the stormI let her legs go and push us up until I get my feet under me, but I don’t stand. Instead I crouch and peer off into the storm in the direction the shadow went. My eyes search but the snow won’t let me see. My ears listen but the wind is all I can hear.It went… that way.I turn, grab her legs and pull them out of the snow once again.We’ll go this way.I hop through the snow. We’ll cross the street… make to the houses on the other side… someone has to be home.How can the wind push at us like this? It pushes me from behind helping to lift my legs through the snow, then from the left, pushing me off course and blowing her nightgown up and into my face.It pushes from the right throwing her hair into a frenzy making the tips stab at my eyes.And it blows against us, so strong that I have to stop, dig in and then change direction because I’m afraid it will knock us over if we try and keep going.Finally my foot hits something high and solid. I look up and see the huge rise of snow in front of us and the dark brown shape rising even higher beyond it. A lawn and behind it a house. We’ve reached the other side of the street.I can’t see where the steps are. Too much snow. So I step hard, kicking my toes into the snow to dig in and get sure footholds to climb. I clench my jaw tight as I see her feet trailing in the snow. Faster damn it. Climb faster.My foot kicks away loose snow and I’m at the top of the snow covered lawn. The house is still indistinct because of the storm but I can make out the mound of snow covering the front steps. I can almost make out the shape of the front door. It’s flanked by a dark patio on the other side, covered by an awning and filled with snow.I don’t see a light anywhere.The wind blasts us from the front again. I brace us, plant my feet and lean into it. Almost there……just hold on……I’ll get you inside this time…… no matter what…But this time the wind isn’t changing. It just gets stronger and stronger. I lean forward more and more until I feel my elbows dipping into the snow, feel the wind blowing over my head and driving snow into the back on my collar.… no matter what…My teeth ache I’m biting down on them so hard. I lean harder and take a step forward. My skin is hard and unfeeling. I can hear her hair, now just as hard, tapping against the side of my face, my ears, sounding like frenzied wooden wind chimes.… no matter what… and I take another step.Suddenly the wind stops, breaking off almost as though spent. I would fall forward but the snow in front of us has been pushed into a small wall against us almost up to my waist. I take a breath.We’re covered in snow. My legs, her chest, my shoulders, her feet, my eyebrows…The snow still falls, once again settling into falling straight down instead buzzing around like enrage hornets. The street is so quiet now.The house is clearer now but still mostly hidden by the snow fall. An old stone house, typical here in Mt. Airy, a little bigger though than most in this neighborhood. There’s a breezeway between this house and the next, where the snow fall is not as heavy. I can see down the small alley a bit, the sides of the houses, the windows and still I don’t see a light on.… no matter what…I turn back to the front door and the huge mound of snow that’s covering it. If I have to I’ll…Tiny warm puffs of breath pulse against the underside of my jaw. I look down and see her brows are knit tight, her mouth pursed but open. She’s breathing so hard. Is she in pain? She looks like… she’s exhausted.Then I hear them; footsteps in the snow.I turn in a panic and peer around but still I can’t see anything. There’s another step… then another…It goes quiet again for a long moment before I hear another step.And then it’s quiet again. I can… feel him. I know he’s… searching… listening as I am right now. I don’t move.Another step… another and… it’s quiet again.The falling snow is too deceptive. It makes man-like shapes out of the gray background and makes objects move that aren’t really there to begin with. Where is he?Another step…On the street?Another step… was that one farther away?… another. Yes! He’s moving away!A deep ache at the bottom of my throat is reminding me that I need to breath. Not just yet… another few steps… just a few…The gasp comes out like a whisper… a quiet secret… almost intimate. She let the breath out like she was just getting her breath back. Her eyebrows are relaxed again, her mouth no longer pursed and her lips are apart just a hairs breath now.I whip my head back up and stare into the white fall. It’s almost quiet enough that I miss it but another footstep sounds… closer.The falling snow begins to shift….Another step… another, Oh God… they’re coming closer!…The wind returns but without the force it once had.Another step and I look into the far falling snow and see the dark shadow looming.He’s too close.We’ll never make it.
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I know this isn't sci-fi ya'll, but bear with me and I'd love a little feedback.I Vote...by B. Sharise Mooreevenonballotswe remainbig lips.listless.lazy.LOUD. Stereo.typical.unintelligent.un-American.unimaginably.unfit.for a white house.even afterentering earththrough a white wombwhite privilegeis only recognizedwhen whole.and he is onlyhalf/ Harvardhalf/Columbiahalf/ Senator/half/ Professor/Legislature/Organizer...while a perpendicularpoliticstouts proximityto Russia, Putin, andanother possible war...I am askedfor my vote.and I dobecauseblack skinshed red bloodfor thisonce whites onlyprivilegein a strangely silent northand a deep southwhere hosesseared the hair from scalps,dogs bit chunksfrom the fleshof freedom,and hard handsgripped the edges oftomorrowinside concretewalls.I vote.knowingI'mbig lipslistlesslazyun-Americanunintelligentand mymeagerchoice for changemay never mattermore thanRace doesmay never matter morethan this race does...
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Annabelle stood before the mirror and waved her hand over it. Instantly, Sonya’s bedroom appeared. Nothing had been touched. And even though it was morning, on the other side of the glass it remained dark and silent.“It’s a trick,” Sonya whispered, her eyes still on the mirror. “You tricking me.”“You know I’m not,” Annabelle replied solemnly. “In your heart you know I’m telling the truth. Now if you wanna leave you can,” she waved her arm expansively, “and miss out on all this. Everybody been waiting to meet you.”The young woman furrowed her brow, “Everybody like who?”“You’ll see; you hungry?”“Yeah…”Annabelle smiled again. “ Well come on then, let’s find you something to wear.” She led Sonya back to the bedroom she’d slept in. Minutes later Annabelle and Sonya, dressed in a white blouse and skirt, that hung low around her hips; her hair freshly combed walked out into the hallway.An Indigo woman emerged from the room across from Sonya’s. She was tall, slender and muscular with a long face, flashing eyes, brown sugar skin and closely cropped black hair.And she was totally nude. She paused in the corridor staring at Sonya with open curiosity. “You’re new here aren’t you?”Speechless Sonya nodded, trying not to stare.The woman flashed a smile. “I’m Selena.”“Sonya,” the girl stammered.“Well…maybe I‘ll see you later.” She walked past Sonya, her stride proud and confident, to the same oak door Sonya had tried to escape through.Annabelle’s face creased in annoyance, “Selena, could you try wearing clothes sometimes?” she called.Selena looked back over her shoulder, her brown face unconcerned. “For what?When I spend my days like this!” Instantly a black panther appeared, growling where Selena had stood only moments before.“Wow -- just wow!” Sonya exclaimed, clapping her hands together like a delighted child, “Too cool!”Selena dipped her head in Sonya’s direction purring approvingly, then turned green cat eyes to the door. It swung open to reveal a lush jungle. Selena leaped through the archway and it shut behind her.Wide eyed, Sonya watched this spectacle. Then turned to Annabelle. “That’s the same door from last night! How -- !?”Annabelle threw back her head and laughed. “You are too precious! Let’s eat first, and then I’ll answer all your questions.”“But I just dreamed --”Annabelle pulled up short: eyes narrowed, face sharp and watchful. “You dreamed what?”This transformation was not lost upon Sonya. Don’t tell about the door, an urgent voice whispered, she won’t like it. And in the core of her being, Sonya realized that Annabelle wanted -- needed -- to believe that she was in control. Of Sonya. Of everything.“I dreamed I became an animal…a wolf,” Sonya finished.The Indigo woman visibly relaxed. “Oh, is that all?”“Uh-huh.”The young woman followed Annabelle to the end of the hallway -- the castle seemed endless -- where they turned left into a huge alcove walled in at a right angle by glass. Beyond these transparent barriers was a beach and foaming ocean.Frolicking in the waves were mermen and women of every color imaginable with fishtails or scaled legs; some with slits for eyes and noses; others with human features diving in and out of the water.Galloping up and down the sand were two female centaurs.Sonya gawked at the creatures, a goofy half smile on her face. “Are -- are they real?”“As real as you and me,” Annabelle replied softly.“I wanna go out…there,” breathed Sonya. “I wanna get a closer look…”At that moment, Cle- Menti appeared, with a breakfast tray levitating in the air in front of him. The smell of eggs, bacon and toast filled the room.“Did you sleep well princess?” Cle-Menti’s basso profundo voice filled the room.Sonya stared up at him, “Yeah…” even to her own ears she sounded like a child.He was naked from the waist up, and clothed only in a pair of loose fitting brown trousers and open toed sandals. His thick, kinky hair was molded about his wide, angular face, with an aquiline nose and his muscles were so well defined they seemed carved into his chocolate hued body.Without a doubt Cle-Menti was the darkest, most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.He smiled into her eyes, waved his hand over the table and the plates floated to Sonya’s and Annabelle, and settled in front of them.He took Sonya’s hand, “I hope you enjoy your breakfast princess. I cooked it myself,” then pressed his thick lips to her fingers.“Ok…” she breathed, unable to manage anything else.At the other end of table half hidden by Cle-Menti’s frame, sat Annabelle a smile playing about her lips. “She wants to go out after breakfast. You mind takin’ her?”“Of course not,” Cle-Menti answered in his melodious booming tenor, never taking his eyes off Sonya’s face. “Just call me when you finish eating.” He vanished.The food was delicious -- the eggs fluffy with just the right amount of cheese, the bread sweet and buttery, the bacon crisp.Sonya turned her chair to one side so she could watch the creatures gamboling beyond the glass wall -- her questions forgotten. By now the centaurs had galloped to the edge of the ocean and were tossing a ball back and forth to the mermaids.In that moment if she’d turned her head, Annabelle’s sharp eyed calculating stare would have frightened her...“You finished eating?”“Yes Mam.”“Alright, I’ll get Cle-Menti to take you out,” Annabelle pushed her chair back form the table, rose and walked back out into the hallway, Sonya followed. They stood before the door. “Don’t ever try to open this door yourself. It’s a portal to other worlds -- other times. You need one of us to open it -- always. Understand?”Sonya nodded impatiently, her fear forgotten.“Cle-Menti, she’s ready, ” called Annabelle.The words were barely out of her mouth, before he appeared beside Sonya. “You wish to go out princess?”“Uh-huh,” Sonya stammered. Why do I always sound brain dead around him...?Cle-Menti took her hand…they faced the door. “We wish to go to the beach,” he commanded. It swung open to reveal an explosion of color: golden sands and foaming turquiose waters, under an unbelievably bright orangish blue sky.They turned to the left, around the corner of the mansion to find the two centaurs now racing each other up and down the sand. One Bronze with reddish brown hair that curled about her shoulders, green eyes and a dark red mare’s hindquarters; the other Amber with thick, black hair that flowed to her waist, porcelain white skin, slanted almond brown eyes, and a black horse body. Each wore silver bras covering their torsos.Sonya looked up at Cle-Menti. “Can I get a closer look?”He smiled indulgently, “Of course!” Then shouted in a booming bass that echoed along the beach: “This is Sonya and she’d like to play with you, but behave yourselves! None of your tricks -- you hear?”Sonya approached the centaurs slowly, twisting her hands in front of her like a child. “Hi…” she said softly.They regarded her with open curiosity. “I’m Lui and this is Juliana,” the Amber centaur lisped. “Would you like a ride?”“Oh yes!” Sonya breathed.“Well climb on my back then! We’re going to race!”“And I’m going to win!” Juliana pronounced.With Juliana’s help, Sonya mounted Lui’s back. “Hold on tight!” They galloped down the beach -- Sonya holding on for dear life -- then back again. Sonya glanced over her shoulder and glimpsed mermen and women looking on with great interest.They finished near the ocean’s edge where a crowd of aquatic folk were bobbing up and down in the waves, smiling and pointing -- waiting for their chance to play with this newcomer.As Sonya slid off Lui’s back, she whispered: “You would make a lovely centaur! Wouldn’t you like to be one of us?”Sonya frowned “Oh no!”“And why not?” Juliana chipped in petulantly. “Are we not beautiful?” Beside her Lui pouted.Sonya’s face split in a wide grin, flattered beyond measure that these magical equines wanted her to join their family. “You’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen!” Mollified they smiled back.“Well…?” said Lui expectantly.“I have a mother, two brothers and sister,” Sonya explained. “If I stayed with you they’d miss me.”For a moment Juliana and Lui seemed to seriously consider.“We could be your family,” Juliana offered, smiling openly as if this solved everything.Sonya looked distressed. I don’t want to make them mad! “But I’d miss them too!” she stammered, “I love them!”“What is…love?” asked Lui, looking confused.Sonya’s jaw dropped. “It’s when you miss a person when they’re gone,” she groped for words, “you don’t ever want to be without them… and when they hurt, you hurt.”They listened intently. “Ohhh…” said Juliana nodding, beside her Lui bobbed her head in agreement.But it was obvious they still didn’t understand. A small almost imperceptible shiver of fear coursed through Sonya. “Could we go in the water?” she asked.“Oh yes!” Lui smiled brightly, “We can do whatever we want!”“Ride me this time!” chirped Juliana.At the ocean’s edge, Sonya scrambled off the centaur’s into the warm water, clothes and all and swam into the mere folks’ midst -- marveling at their lustrous emerald, golden, brown, ebony, purple, sepia and pinks skins -- and joined them in an impromptu game of tag.She began diving under the waves with them. A purple mermaid with long ropy hair to match her skin, laughing at how playful the Indigo woman was, pulled Sonya under the water and swam alongside her. At this the mere folk took turns dragging Sonya down with them -- she couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun.As Sonya paddled the depths marveling at the sea blooms and geometric coral… and at how long she was holding her breath, a slender, pink skinned merman with golden hair, sea green eyes and a matching tail, bobbed beside her grinning. Suddenly he reached out pulled her into his arms -- his body even warmer than the sea -- and holding her began swimming downward.With his curious fish body pressed against her's Sonya felt the twinges of arousal. How do they do it, I wonder? Like us…?As if her could read her thoughts, the merman bubbled laughter in her ear and pressed himself even more tightly against her, so she could feel the maleness hidden beneath his scales. They swam deeper -- and deeper still entering colbalt blue waters, foliated by stalks of coral growing from an unseen ocean floor.He paused with Sonya still in his arms and pressed his lips to hers: filling her mouth with his strange bumpy tongue. And she wondered how it would feel to have him take her -- right there -- beneath the ocean depths…“ENOUGH!” Cle-Menti’s booming voice echoed beneath the waves. “BRING HER BACK DEMETRI!”Demetri broke the kiss. He stared up frowning…then began swimming to the upward. They burst above the surface and for an instant she couldn’t breath. I’ve been breathing water -- !It passed. Her lungs accepted the air and Demetri was moving to the shallows to release her. Sonya stood in ankle length water, looking at him and felt a curious longing. It was so peaceful down thereDemetri held her gaze. His lips curving upward in a smile as if they shared a secret.Then with a flip of his tail he was gone.Cle-Menti was sitting on the beach waiting for her. “Time to go princess.”Sonya pouted. “Why’d you make me come back -- I was having fun!”Cle-Menti’s full lips spread into a smile. “Not so innocent after all,” he said softly, almost to himself and Sonya blushed.He put an arm about her shoulder guiding her to the door. “You couldn’t breath when you first came out of the water,” the Indigo man said matter-of-factly. “Don’t you wonder why?”Sonya eyed him solemnly, but didn’t answer.“Demetri changed you because he wanted you.” there was no trace of humor in Cle-Menti’s voice now. “If you’d made love to him, you would have become a creature of the sea. And you would have to stay here. Forever.”He dipped his head toward the beach. “Many of them were human once,” he continued, “but once transformed they forgot all about their past lives.” Now his gaze was direct, penetrating.Looking into his dark eyes, Sonya felt nauseous with fear. I almost --- !“They wouldn’t make suitable playmates,” he finished, “if they missed their families.”The door swung open and she rushed past him -- back into the safety of the castle.Stealer of Souls chapter excerptCopyright 2008 Valjeanne Jeffers-Thompson all rights reserved
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Posted by Night Manager on September 13, 2008 at 12:40am
Last Night… in my Dream…I must have fallen asleep on my couch because that’s where the dream begins. Something was wrong with the book I was trying to read because the words were all jumbled. Before it became frustrating enough to wake me there came a loud rumbling from outside my window and then a banging at my door.But the banging was not to rouse me or to get me to open it. It was too strong, violent and the door shook on its hinges. Suddenly it burst open and in stomped strange men bearing hammers, swords and chains. Their skin was weather beaten, their hair was wild and they yelled at me with accents so thick that I could not understand what they were saying.In a rush they came at me and pinned me down. With their rough skin around my arms and their swords at my throat they chained me. Then they pulled me to my feet and I saw that I was a good foot taller than all of them. Not that it mattered; they slashed at me with their blades and pounded on me with those hammers, forcing me to the door.Just outside my window I could hear screams and fighting. I was pushed through my door a saw the most horrible site. Huge Truck flatbeds were being driven right down my block. They were so large that they knocked and scraped along the cars parked on the street, knocking some of them up onto the sidewalk. On the backs of the flatbeds were people.Some people I recognized; they lived in my neighborhood. Others were strangers to me but they were all chained as I was. They were men and women, adults and children, individuals dressed for work and families dressed for bed. The strange men were pulling my neighbors from their homes and then loaded them onto the trucks. Those that resisted were beaten with the hammers until they complied or no longer could. The strange men jabbed at me with their swords and I fell down my steps onto my face.The men laughed and jabbed again, yelling for me to move. Chained as I was it took some doing but I wasn’t the only one. A woman was screaming and I looked to see her being dragged away from the unmoving body of her husband. He isn’t the only person to fall and not get back up.I saw that most of the people who resisted were men… and most of them were then lying unmoving on the ground. A fear took hold of me like I’ve never known. Quickly I was on my feet and marching to the truck.That’s when I saw you.I know you don’t live in my neighborhood but I wasn’t surprised to see you. The strangers dragged you from the breezeway in between two homes across the street. You fought with everything you had but they only laughed and pulled you easily down to the street. You never had a chance against them as small as you are. As they load you onto the truck one of the men grabbed at you indecently. Your chains prevented you from striking back at him and he sneered at you wickedly and laughed again with his fellow captors. Cold steel was pressed against the back of my neck and I did nothing except comply and climb aboard one of the trucks.The culling goes on for hours. We rode aboard the trucks for miles as people were rounded up, chained and thrown on board. Along the way some leapt from the trucks, desperate to escape. But the chains were heavy and the strange men were everywhere. None that I could see make it. None that I could see survive to climb back on.All the while the men taunted us. Theirs was a deep well of cruelty, hitting some, leering at a few of the women and punishing those who do not show enough submission. As tall as I am I became a target for them. Try as I might to comply I found myself bleeding and bruised from their intermittent attacks. When they weren’t after me I looked for you but the other trucks were all identical. You could have been anywhere.They took us all the way across the city and I could soon smell the river. Still they were loading the trucks and more and more people were chained. More and more bodies lay on the ground when they resisted too hard or a moment too long.But not everyone was taken.Soon we were driven through nicer neighborhoods. Some homes were still raided for prisoners but many were not. I saw sad shameful faces peeking out from windows or standing in doorways. Those homes were all marked with a large piece of cloth… a flag bearing an unfamiliar pattern. No one was taken from those homes. I saw a few familiar faces whose eyes never meet mine. They were the faces of people who had only one thing in common that I know of: money.Soon we were brought to the docks and sitting in the water were the largest boats I’d ever seen. Old boats with huge billowing black sails, like the ones you see in pirate movies. Atop the tallest mast of each ship the strange flag fluttered in the wind. Several people screamed once they saw the ships. Many called for God and a few passed out. I actually found myself envying them being spared from the nightmare. Again some tried to make a break for it but no one could run with the chains on. The trucks rolled right up to the docks and the people were ushered off the flatbeds and marched up the ramps to the ships.My truck drove up beside the largest ship, a triple-decker with a symbol printed on each of the tall black sails. It was a figure eight lying on its side. My fear grew even more but I marched along. I did not want to die.The ship was so full of people when I was lead onto the deck that there was no more space in the hold. For moments my mind reeled. Would they move us to another ship or would we simply be put over the side?But the strange men had known they would have this problem and had come prepared. On the two lower decks were cages set all around the edges of the boat. Without pause many were herded into the cages until full. The rest of us were then forced to sit along the rails and chained to the deck.Then they began to process us. Quickly, roughly and with as much humiliation as possible we were all stripped bare. One man tried to defend a woman who must have been his mother. He was beaten, then unchained and tossed over the side. No one else fought after that.Then day became night and night rolled into day. The strange men continued to harass us as they pleased. Sparingly we were fed; horrid bread and brown filthy water. More people went over the side.A man who fought to protect his daughter went screaming…A woman and the dead body of her child who she refused to be parted with went over together…An elderly lady who may or may not have been dead because she never responded to the blows from the hammers…Day became night and night turned to day until counting them no longer seemed to matter. The strange men continued the process of beating us into submission.Several young women, the ones who were of age, were taken from the cages and moved to the crew quarters. One woman begged for them not to take her daughter, who was too young but very tall for her age. She offered to go with them instead. The strange men laughed and the one who leered at you, he smiled a wicked smile. He jabbed a fat thumb at a group of girls who were obviously too young and then held up two fingers. The woman cried and shook her head until the stranger grabbed her daughter roughly by the head and forced her to her knees. With tears streaming from her eyes the mother pointed at two of the girls and quickly they were exchanged for her daughter. The strange man smirked at her and handed her and her daughter fresh apples.This went on day and night. The harsh sun burned down on us and the smell of the sea and each others ripening bodies made us gag. I passed the time thinking of ways to escape, of food… of home… or of dying but mostly I thought of you.Another man attempted to resist. The sun beat down on all of us and he was using his own body to provide shade for a sick elderly man. He was beaten and then handed a blade to kill the man. I watched wondering what he would do. The man was not related to the old man. In fact he’d never met him before he was captured. He refused to take the old mans life none the less. But the smirking stranger was not done.He opened a barrel of fresh water and another full of fresh fruit right on the deck and even my mouth watered. Then he took the sword from the man and had three other men unchained. They unchained me.He pointed to the fresh water, the food and then finally to the man. Then he drew his hand across his throat.There was no resisting them.It was him or me.I was starving and perhaps… could share the food with others…But I hesitated… the others did not.It was ugly and horrible. They were not given weapons and none of them had ever killed a man before… at least not with their bare hands. He died slowly, strangled, and then they finished off the old man. We were chained back up and I sat down in shame trying to convince myself that I wasn’t wrong for wanting the water or the apples. I may have thought about joining in but…But I didn’t help…No… I didn’t help…This continued as well until no one was dying at the hands of the strangers anymore. We were killing each other.More days past, the blazing sun sucked the life from our food starved bodies and nighttime rains opened us to fevers. Many died.I did not.One late afternoon after a particularly bad storm broke there came a commotion from below decks. The strangers dragged several prisoners up onto the main deck and dumped them before the rest of us. As bad as it had been on the top deck I had seen more bodies brought up from below and dumped over the side than had died topside. But this was different. These people were still alive and you were among them.The stranger who always smirked was grinning down on your group. He motioned to his men and a few of them began to open the chains of the group of prisoners who had become their favorites. These were Men who killed other prisoners with no qualms and accepted the fresh water and apples happily. These men were given warm clothes to protect them from the sun and keep them dry in the rain. These men had been to the crew quarters to take time with the girls they had imprisoned there.Hammers were placed into their hands. They moved to encircle your group their eyes wide with excitement. You looked up. Your eyes were so defiant so… resolute.There was such strength in your eyes as you looked from one traitor to the next. My breath caught in my throat because then you looked beyond them and your eyes fell on me.It wasn’t anger that I saw in your eyes then although that was what I was expecting. No… you looked into my eyes and I saw… I felt your disappointment, like I had failed to fulfill some unspoken promise.I don’t know you very well, we’re little more than acquaintances. All the same my heart ached with a pain that eclipsed the battering my body had already taken.How dare you? How dare you expect anything from me? How dare you shame me? How dare you fill me with pain that burns worse than the sun? Drains my strength like thirst? Bruises like the beatings? You don’t know me! I owe you nothing!I stood at once and called to the strangers. The Smirking man looked at me with small insect-like eyes. I thrust my hands out to him, open, my eyes looking to the hammer still strapped to his belt. The smirk slid up the side of his face.He gestured for his men to unchain me and quickly I was brought into the circle of his executioners. The smirking stranger unbuckled his own hammer and passed it to me. It was larger and more ornate than the weapons of his comrades. It was heavy in my hands… but not too heavy.The other prisoners still in their cages or chained to the rail began to beg to be given weapons as well. The long voyage had taken its toll on all of us. The deck was alive with promises to kill your small group and cries for food and water. The other prisoners standing beside me glared at me menacingly. They did not want to have their shares of the food and water divided anymore than it already was. They glanced about angrily and began to shout down the other prisoners, raising their hammers threateningly. The smirking man took all this in with satisfaction in his dark eyes.Then he shouted for silence, pointed to your small group who still lay on the ground and drew his finger across his throat.One hammer wielding prisoner grabbed you roughly by your chains and pulled you beneath his weapon. He raised it his eyes wild with the thought of fresh water and the red apples. His eyes remained open even after I brought the hammer down on the back of his head.He dropped limply to the ground. The other executioners backed away from me startled. The deck went silent for a moment and then the smirking man roared. He pointed a thick calloused finger at me…… and then drew his finger across his throat.They came at me at once. They had been fed better for days. They had not been struck or beaten as much as I had.But somehow… I was faster, stronger… and I had the biggest hammer.It was a frenzy of a fight. I swung with wild abandon and so did they. They may have struck each other as much as they struck me. But my body had been tempered by the beatings while they had been pampered by the apples, fresh water, warm clothes and vulnerable girls.The last hit the deck with a thud and lay unmoving as a pool of blood spread from his head. I was breathing hard through clenched teeth and was gripping the hammer above my head ready to continue the fight.The Strange men drew their swords and began to approach me.But I saw fear in a few of their eyes.Had they attacked as a group I would have been killed there on the deck like so many others. But their fear was great and they came at me only as each overcame it in turn. Their sword reach was great but not enough to overcome my longer arm reach. The first to come at me was too hesitant and he fell just like the would-be executioners. The next two tried to surround me but I swung before they could get themselves into position and they fell as well. The smirking man barked gruff orders and the other strangers regrouped. They would be able to take me in moments.I spun on my heels and turned to the cages behind me. One blow was all it took to pop the rusty lock and the gate fell open. A sea of angry, starved prisoners poured out onto the deck……and surrounded me.Behind them walking back up to the third deck was the smirking stranger. That smile had slid almost all the way to his ear.I screamed at them, my fellow prisoners, to fight, that we could take the boat. Their only response was to pick up the dropped hammers of the men that had been killing us all. They converged on me.My heart sank but a part of me knew that I deserved this. I let the strangers take me without a fight. I let them kill my neighbors without argument. I deserved this.I turned slowly, trying to keep any of them from rushing up behind him. They saw how I handled the hammer in my hands. None of them wanted to be the first to fall but they weren’t going to let me go.Then I saw you. You’d been released from your chains and stood foremost among the rest of the prisoners I’d freed. There was a lean and hungry look to you and you had daggers for eyes… and a sword in your hands.The hammer felt so heavy then. I could barely hold it before me. This was going to be bad.You raised your sword… I cast my eyes downward… and you stepped forward.I deserve this.You stopped about a foot away from me and when I look up our eyes met and I was filled with strength. It streamed from your eyes like sunlight and somehow parched my thirst, cooled my skin, filled my body with fire.With a cry you turned into the crowd surrounding us. Blood flew and people fell to the deck. The hammer was light in my hands and devastating to those who tried to stop me. We fought them together and for the first time since they had taken me I was not afraid.The great beast of a ship pitched and rolled as we cut across the deck. Soon people were jumping over the side of the ship to get away from my hammer and your sword. We fought our way into the crew quarters where the men had been taking liberties with the female prisoners. We happened upon a massacre. They had tortured those girls and left none alive.We fought on with a renewed fury and the deck became slick with blood. People cried out for the strangers to help them. They begged and pleaded to them like they were gods.The strange men had no choice then but to answer. There weren’t enough prisoners left to fight for them. The Smirking man advanced with a vanguard of his men, swords drawn.It doesn’t matter. With you standing beside me it felt as if the sea wind was lifting me. We ran into them and they fell too, dropping to the blood splattered floor like all the rest or rushing to the rail to pitch themselves into the sea.At last the smirking man stood alone by the rail on the top deck. His smile still imprinted on his face like a brand burned into his flesh. His eyes no longer smirked though; they glowered instead at his hammer that was held tightly in my hand.Refusing to fall to his own weapon he leapt up onto the rail and pulled a flint box from inside his jacket. With a slight twist to his lips he struck the box and set sparks to the huge black sails. They were ablaze in seconds.With one last twisting smirk he joined everyone else over the side.That last spiteful act had done its job. Soon the triple-decker ship was a whirling inferno. Embers from the burning sails floated through the air like falling snow in a storm of black smoke.I looked to you to saw the tiny embers landing lightly in your hair.Your hair didn’t burn, although it became flame… a brilliant mane of fire that flowed beautifully around your face and reflected in your eyes.I was drawn to you and our lips touched. Such a fire filled my soul.We made love on that third deck as the great ship burned down around us into the deep black sea.
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Posted by Night Manager on September 13, 2008 at 12:39am
This is 1st part of the short story I WAS going to enter into the BSFS Anthology but the whole story got too long and another Idea sparked to me anyway.REBIRTH OF SLICKp100…… 01……10101001100100110101……100001YES01100NO0YESNONO……YESNOYESYESNONOYESNONONO…Oblivion isn’t nothingness. It’s a great weight that presses upon you from everywhere at once. Oblivion isn’t blackness. It’s a stark white light that falls away from you, pulls at you from every direction. It’s maddening. Your thoughts run away from you into the distant nothing and become nothing.…YESNONONOYES……FIRE!One tiny spark in the void that was his entire universe fired. Being the only sensation his mind had been aware of for what must have been an eternity it raked across his being like fire and lightning. The void, he realized as his mind burned, had been peaceful. The weight had been a loving caress and the vast white nothing had been a protective blanket. Now the blanket had been pierce by a spark that struck at him from the distance.…:\?He could not turn away from it. Just as the nothingness had pressed upon him from everywhere so the fire railed against him from every direction. Still somehow the spark was just a spark, only a minute pinpoint paling against the infinite stark white. The second disruption of oblivion was a full conflagration compared to the spark. In an instant the quiet oblivion became fire and he burned. If he could see he would have closed his eyes… if he had eyes or even eyelids.He ached to move but he found that he was just as much nothing as had been oblivion. Nothing… he could feel nothing save the burning. His skin did not burn because he had none. His arms were not on fire because they did not exist.No legs… no voice to scream, no breath… no body… and yet he burned.Was this hell?...:\OPEN:X:The fire burned hotter and yet seemed, thankfully, to grow smaller as he became aware that the vast oblivion was still there. It sat just outside the heat of the fire. Was it shrinking or was he growing?Neither. The spark still burned. His awareness slid from one to the other. He could return to the oblivion or he could burn in the fire. He could decide.…PASSWORD:The spark was ever shifting, he sensed. It rolled and boiled like a sea. It became difficult not to focus on it and he burned again. Why was this happening to him?…*******.The sea of fire rolled out around him and became a horizon. The vast white was split in half; fire on one side of him and stark white oblivion on the other. If he had a body he would have trembled in fear of what could possibly be about to happen to him. In a panic he sought the vast white emptiness but the fire below would not be ignored.…C:\REM [PROJECT LANCER]……X:\EMERGENCYSTARTUP.EXE……LOADING PROGRAM…He retreated but the sea of fire continued to bloom, spreading farther than he could sense. What had he done to deserve this?… LOADING PARSON INTERFACE MATRIX……25%...Now came pain; real pain. A stabbing, throbbing right in the back of his skull. It dwarfed the pain of the fire… but at least he knew that he had a skull.… MAPPING NEUROLOGICAL LINKS……46%...Tiny pricks of pain stabbed at him in a million places inside of his new found skull threatening to drive him mad. He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t bite his lip. He could only pray for it to stop.…ASSOCIATING INTUIT POINTS……53%...The tiny pricks of pain flared then lanced outward from the base of his skull becoming hot lines of fire running down his spine. Again he could do nothing save endure it, not clench his jaw or ball his hands into fists or even writhe in agony. He had no body. He was nothing and he could not even remember who he had been.…HARMONIZING DATA STREAM……73%...A memory, visual. A face… feminine… dark hair… thick black glasses… pretty eyes wide with rage. She was mouthing something but he could not hear her. Then she smiled and raised a gloved hand bearing a knife that dripped with blood. His blood.…RETICULATING LANCER UNIT……77%...More pain and the memory was gone just as quickly as it had come. Only the image of the knife remained. She had killed him… he was dead… this was hell.…IMPORTING UPGRADES……91%...The pain got worse. His spine felt like it was being stabbed by a thousand tiny white hot needles. Then a canon went off. It was the first sound he had heard in… maybe since the woman killed him. It echoed all about him and then… laughter. It was an idiot’s laugh, grunt like and mocking. The canon went off again followed by the laughter again… the exact same laughter. The sound repeated over and over until finally he realized it was not happening now. It was another memory; the sound of someone being shot.…99%...The glow of the fire changed as he changed. The heat that once burned him now radiated against his mind softly, almost coolly. It pulsed now, like a beacon. It seemed to be waiting.…PRIMARY POWER ONLINE…The pain in his spine became a warm strong current of pressure, throbbing in time with the sea of cool fire. The pain in his skull waned until the pulsing pressure rising from his spine was all he could feel.…SERVO CHECK COMPLETE……COOLING UNIT ONLINE…The pulse in his head speed up to a smooth vibration. The cool fire remained steady and still pulsed. He had no eyes but he could almost see it.…HYDRAULIC SYSTEMS ONLINE… SYSTEM LOCKED……PRESURE SENSORS…ONLINE…Walls slammed up against him from all sides, hitting his arms (He had arms!) and his knees (He had knees!). Gravity had finally found him and pulled him down onto a hard……TEMPERATURE SENSORS… ONLINE……cold surface.…GYROSCOPIC SENSORS ONLINE……AUDIO SENSOR SUIT ONLINE…Sounds! Collisions echoing in the distance in a quickening cadence they were… footsteps!…VIDEO SENSOR SUITE ONLINE…They seemed to be stars at first he thought, gleaming points of neon blue light hovering against the white nothing. Then he realized that they were letters and symbols and most of all he realized that he was actually seeing them. Dancing, spinning and scrolling across his universe they were words he recognized:…ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL…A small dark two dimensional void opened up and as his focused on it, the void drew closer, grew larger until it sat behind the neon lettering nearly blocking out everything else. There was lettering inside the void but not neon, hovering, dancing or spinning kind. This lettering was simply black lettering on a dirty wooden surface. It read: PROPERTY OF KNOX CO.He knew that name. Knox was… important.The footsteps drew closer and then stopped. Angry voices replaced them, guttural and harsh. One of them sounded very much like the voice in his memory. The one that laugh mockingly after the canon had gone off. Anger and fear surged through his mind.…HYDRAULIC SYSTEM UNLOCKED…When he told his thigh muscles to push, he felt a surge of pressure where they should have been. Colors rolled across the face of the void floating before him. The dirty white wall with the lettering on it slid out of sight and a dark room moved into its place.…ACTIVATING TRI-D VISUAL SUITE…Two more visual boxes winked into existence one of each side of the original. Then slowly they merged and the objects in side it seemed to bloom to life. The room was suddenly three dimensional.…WELCOME USER 001……CLICK NEXT TO CONTINUE…Read more…
I write everyday. I sit down and I bang out notes and thoughts and essays on social and political philosophy. When it comes to writing for my career, I work every day, with very few exceptions (some Saturdays I'm hung over ;(, some Thursdays I'm tired). I am on the tenure hunt and loving every minute of it. I haven't stopped writing fiction, it gets written. It just doesn't get completed.I just started a new fiction project from some old notes. And the potential that was there four years ago, is still there. The characters talk to me and distract me when I'm writing my other work. And in the last few days, I've written more than I have in months. But I have a decision to make. It's always the same one.Am I writing this novel to finish it and publish it? Or am I writing this story because I love how I feel when I write?This may seem like a strange dilemma to some. Why write if not to publish? to share? When I write I feel -- well, it's hard to write about what I feel when I write. Sometimes my fiction feels like a diary. Not where I tell my one true story, no not a memoir, but a hope. For some writers, writing is like giving birth after pregnancy. A period filled with both joy and pain that pales in comparison to the remarkable finished product. But not for me. I always have postpartum depression when I finish a piece. And I hardly ever willingly share the whole thing.I have a novel that I finished nearly five years ago that I've let a few people see. I've even turned a few of the chapters into short stories that I've shared with friends through an old blog. Those that read parts of it, enjoyed it, encouraged me to pursue an agent. But I have no desire to have that novel published. Funny?Since then, I've only allowed myself to write unfinished stories. I start them, I bring them to crisis, and then.. I find a reason not to finish. I start another story and leave the other one 60 pages from done in a folder marked "old fict" on my hard drive.I knew I wanted to be a writer when I was 7. I wrote my first "book" that same year. When I was 14 my best friend and I passed a notebook in between periods of class, not to pass notes of gossip, but to co-author a weird fantasy tale that we both still remember nearly word for word. When I was 16, my mother forced me to enter a play I'd written into a city-wide contest- it won. And in college, I had a short story published under a pseudonym. And then, I stopped sharing my full works with people. Folks think I never finish them because I can't. I don't think that's it.Lately, however, as I grow more and more productive in my career writing, I remember what I told my friends when I was young..someday I'm going to be on the New York Times Bestseller list. It's inked under a picture of me from 10th grade -- "novelist of the future seeks spot on the Bestseller list." The desire to be a success (not the bestseller so much any more) to be read and known for my fiction has increased in the last few years. And I think this story I'm writing has real potential....To finish or not to finish... that is always the question.^esined.... it's backwards, but it still has meaning*do excuse the random wondering of my thoughts-- I figured this would be as good a place as any to post about it... I had initially planned to post my unfinished stories here.... I may still do that
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Red stood beneath the streetlamp. Facing him were two enforcers: a thin, swarthy male, and a woman with closely cropped blond hair.The youth had dramatically changed: his muscles had tightened over his bulk giving him a handsome, chiseled appearance, and his ginger skin fairly glowed with health.Yet Red’s eyes held the look of a trapped animal. And he kept looking over his shoulder, as if fearing he’d be attacked from behind.He looks good, thought Styx, better than I remember -- but he’s as jumpy as a damn cat. I guess smoking that s-- finally caught up with him. “Alright,” she asked, “what’s so important you dragged us out here?”“I got some work for you…I know who messed up that hit on the Council.”The sergeant breathed a sigh of disgust. “Well I can’t very well lock them up for botching an assassination, now can I?”“They burned those twenty-one enforcers too.”Styx narrowed her eyes. “Can you prove any of this? Because my bosses downtown are gonna want evidence. It’s a new day Red! I can’t just throw everybody in detention you got a grudge against! Lee and Gonzales are making too much noise about political prisoners as it is!”“I don’t want them detained!”“Are you saying what I think you are?”Red’s mouth twitched nervously. “I’ll make it worth your while.”“He speaks the magic words,” Styx drawled her voice heavy with sarcasm. “The corporate heads must want them iced.”“Something like that.”“Two thousand bills.”“Done.”“Coming up in the world are we? Alright, be here tomorrow night, same time.”“That’s everything you need to know.” Red handed her a slip of paper.Styx glanced down at the note, then folded it into her pocket. “I’ll take care of it.”“One more thing,” the youth’s voice trembled, “the one at the top of the list, don’t kill her. Understand?”“I thought you didn’t want them detained?”“Don’t put her in lock up, just hold her somewhere! I know you got some place you can stash her until tomorrow!”Styx curled her lip derisively. “What is she, somebody’s private piece of tail that broke out of her cage?”“I mean it Styx! Or all our a---es will be in a sling!”As Mark pulled his key from his pocket, a taser was pushed against the back of his head.“Don’t move…Now turn around, slowly!”They turned to face three, male peacekeepers. There was a huge Fuchsia officer, another tall, swarthy male with eyes like two black beads, and a stubby, Indigo enforcer with pitted cheeks.All wore the full regalia of enforcers. Helmets with pointed tops strapped beneath their chins, black shirts tucked into their pants and knee length boots.“Lace your hands behind your head,” the tall one ordered, “and walk back down the steps!”You think somebody snitched on us, Mark’s voice resounded clearly in Karla’s head, about those enforcers we iced?Maybe, Consuela replied, but why did they wait so long to pick us up?We can take them, thought Karla. There’s three of them, and three of us.Not yet, said Mark, we don’t where Joan and José are.All at once, Karla realized that none of them had spoken out loud! Mark! Is that you?Yes! How are we doing this?Damned if I know! Consuela, are you there?Right here -- freaking out!They were herded downstairs, where Joan and José were being held at taserpoint by twenty-seven more peacekeepers.Well, I guess we know where they are now, Consuela retorted.A diminutive blond woman sidled to the front, her lips a thin, humorless line. Crows feet dotted the corners of her hard, blue eyes. She was the only officer there not wearing a helmet, and her left sleeve was marked with three diagonal slashes.“Isn’t this cozy?“ Styx said. “Good work Josi.”“Don’t mention it,” the thin, swarthy officer replied.“Which one of you is Karla?” she asked.The Others tensed, but remained silent.“Did you hear me? I asked you a question! Which one of you is Karla?…Alright, we’ll do this the hard way. Read that description Josi."We can take them, thought Karla once more.You crazy? It was José. There’s thirty of them and they’re armed!… Wait a minute! Did I just hear you in my head? Uh-huh.Joan?Yeah…! When did we start reading minds?A few minutes ago, Consuela replied. Isn’t it groovy?How do we get out of this? asked Mark. I don’t fancy spending next six months in lockup.Become wolves, she said.You crazy? They’ll kill us the moment we start changing!No they won’t. A idea took shape in the Bronze woman’s mind, and was instantly communicated to the Others.You better be right, thought Joan. I got a feeling we won’t get a second chance.Josi finished his description: “…tall and dark. That would be you sugar,“ The enforcer smiled unpleasantly, “step to the front.”“Kiss my ass!” Karla snapped.Consuela’s cry rang out like a bell. Now!Before their eyes the Others became feral creatures -- sprouting hair over the length of their bodies, fingernails growing into talons, eyes blazing yellow.“Monster! They‘re monsters!” Without further ado, half the enforcers bolted.Styx gazed wide eyed at the hostages, controlling herself by sheer will. No matter what horrors she saw, bills were involved-- lots of bills. And my life. “Turk,” her voice was quivering, and she tried to steady it, “you and Josi go over there and get her!”“Sergeant,” the big man was trembling all over, “she ain’t human! None of ‘em are!”“That’s an order!”“Yeah Turk,” Karla growled, baring her fangs, “come on over here and get me!”“You better cut this shit out!” Styx yelled, her voice wavering on the edge of hysteria. “Or I’ll deliver you in pieces!…Take her!”As they lumbered toward Karla she became wolf, the Others followed her lead. Nowinstead of monsters, the officers were faced with five wolves ranging in color from snowy white to onyx....Copyright 2007 Valjeanne Jeffers-Thompson all rights reserved
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Dr. Phil Brooks stood in a soundproof room surrounded by military brass that wanted answers and they wanted them yesterday. Dr. Brooks handed each of them black files stamped TOP SECRET/BIOLOGICAL WARFARE. “This is what we have been working on here in the labs. I am sure you will understand the seriousness of the situation at hand.”A grunt came from the Chairman of Joint Chiefs Brigadier General William Marks but he let it go.Studying the file, it took General William Thomas, M.D only a moment to understand the experiments that were being conducted at the facility. Concentrating, he studied the charts to determine what were being done to the cadavers. The viral genetic coding that the scientist were manipulating sprung an altered strain labeled the Necrosis or Zombie virus.General Thomas understood the ramifications because he was the leading authority for the U.S. military on destruction and theft of biological weaponry. What he knew was that this virus was scary beyond belief. It had a one hundred percent infect rate, anyone that came into contact with an infected person’s blood or body fluids was infected.“This doesn’t make sense,” General Thomas said, tossing the file onto the table. His gaze was flat. “You people were experimenting on dead people to produce a super-soldier but came across this mutated virus instead.”“The idea was to develop a soldier that didn’t die, so that our young men and women could stop dying on foreign soil at such young ages. So we were green lighted to develop such a soldier. Over the years our research has evolved and we stumbled onto this zombie virus. We isolated it in our underground labs and we continued to produce other medicinal products from its make up,” Dr. Brooks explained.“We did not believe that it could become airborne nor did we believe it could be transferred through a bite. Our experiments were in its infancy, so we were just trying to get the brain synapses to fire in the reanimated corpses.We had controls in place but one of our people was bitten but he never reported it. Over the course of a few days he began to show signs of infection, we quarantined him and documented his transformation. At the same time we tried to reverse the effects of the virus, with no success,” Dr. Brooks continued.“One evening an orderly was sprayed with blood by the infected…”“Sprayed?” General Thomas interrupted.“The infected vomited onto the orderly,” Dr. Brooks blinked. “He was quarantined as well but exhibited no symptoms of the virus so we released him after a few hours. We were wrong, he was the source of the outbreak here in Las Cruces.”“Las Cruces is a hot zone, the situation is critical, and operation orders call for a complete quarantine and total eradication of the infected.”“That is a Class Four Operational Mandate,” General Thomas frowned.Brigadier General Marks stood. “Based on the analysis, I have no other choice but to grant a green light on Operation Flashpoint.”“Are you certain you want to do this, General? If you don’t mind, I would like to know the course you want to take as far as evacuating the uninfected,” General Thomas broke in.“I want the National Guard to cut-off Las Cruces, no one enters or leaves. I want Seal Team Two dispatched to infiltrate the city to conduct search and rescue missions. Dr. Brooks and his staff will be available to test survivors. I want this mess cleaned up, like yesterday,” Brigadier General Marks stared over the room.
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I thank you guys for putting your money where your mouth is. I am coming completely out of pocket for all this because it has to be done. My son is not the only young black child that needs for positive black toys to play with. Second fiddle and sidekicks just won't cut it for him. I have to take a few months to get my skills up to par while the action figure is re-done and the storyboards for the comic book get drawn. The 3d Movie should be ready by Fall 2009. I had a flub with the sculptor in India. I had to fire him because he didn’t do what he was paid to do. He has now been replaced by a seasoned sculptor with 25 years experience in the toy industry, as an in house sculptor at Kenner/ Hasbro toys. The main character “Deacon” is getting an overhaul so he will have moveable part like old school star war or GI Joes. We are still on track for the holiday season so the people that have made donations will get the character during the holiday season. Thank you guys!!! Help spread the word! Visit: www.EarthSquadron.comRead more…
Posted by Night Manager on August 29, 2008 at 3:00pm
WINTER GHOST p5The SHADOWThe storm comes on again like an explosion as I turn and leap off of the steps. It’s so strong… pushes me sideways and we almost fall. It’s so loud that I can’t hear if the door opens behind us.I don’t look back.The deep snow pulls at my pumping legs but the storm wind pushes at me from behind. I don’t dare turn. Just run. Keep running. Don’t drop her.The twin bushes rise up ahead of me, still whipsawing snow all about; the wind seems to want to pull them from the ground. I duck between them praying to make it before…Snow pelts me in the eyes, sharp dry branches scratch at my cheeks, pulls at my hat and snags at my jacket like hard little fingers. I bunch my shoulders and pull her closer to me just as large clumps of snow drops onto us.Don’t stop.The towering bush on the left swings hard just as we’re out and smacks into my back. I take hurried, long awkward steps to keep my balance.Don’t fall.My fingers dig deep into her shoulder and thigh as her swaying weight threatens to pull her from me.Don’t let her go.The snow in front of me suddenly drops off and down a second set of steps leading to the street. There’s a crash behind me; maybe it’ the twin bushes smacking into each other? I leap off the steps but can’t help but turn to look over my shoulder. Everything’s a blur. The swinging bushes fight a furious battle behind a cloud of snow.My feet sink into snow then hit a hard concrete edge beneath. Off balance we fall tumbling down the rest of the steps. I twist hard, desperate not to let her fall first into the snow. But it’s too deep and even as I go down I know we’ll both be covered.We dig a wide furrow out of the snow. I kick helplessly for a second, floundering away from the bottom of the steps, unwilling to take my hands off of her for second even to push myself to my feet. Snow is wedged inside my collar, slipping inside and sliding down my back.The wind howls again and I look up. The snow seems to fall even thicker now, still swirling in every possible direction as the storm attacks from all angles. I can’t even see the twin bushes anymore… they were just behind us… at the top of the steps.A dark shadow looms where the twin bushes had been, swaying back and forth as though peering through the storm. Just a bit darker than the sky, it is and wide as a car there’s too much snow to see it clearly.It’s just the shadow of the bushes, right? … it only looks like one big shadow from where we are.Ung! I pull us up out of the snow but I stay in a crouch. Not for one second do I take my eyes off of that shadow. It’s just the bushes…It sways toward us, leaning in our direction. I’m don’t move or even breath. Then as the wind shifts it leans away. It was the wind that moved it. It’s just the bushes. It’s just…The shadow moves down the slope of snow covering the steps. My legs tense, my arms shake and my aching lungs beg for me to open my mouth. It takes forever and no time at all for the shadow to reach the bottom… just a few feet away. It’s standing over us still as indistinct as it had been at the top of the steps. But…… it’s still leaning away.It shutters suddenly and I almost scream. Then it disappears in a flash, moving off in the other direction. Growing faint against snow falling so thick it’s like fog.How hadn’t it seen us?Simple… I look down to see that the storm has covered us in a blanket of snow just that fast. Only our heads, my knees… bits of her nightgown stick out. But not for long if I don’t get us moving.How long before it comes back?
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My novel, Sunny and the Leopard People, has just been acquired by Sharyn November at Viking (for the harcover) and Firebird Books (for the paperback). Both are imprints of Penguin.About three years ago, I met this spunky little gangly girl. She was the daughter of a family friend. They were visiting from Nigeria. She was also strikingly albino. Imagine a girl with two fully Igbo parents who's facial features and hair are Igbo but whose skin is pale, whose hair is so blond it's nearly white, who's eyes were grey green.My daughter and I got to spend a week with her. She had this very animated personality. And she had an affinity for telling stories. She was a beautiful girl, inside and out.By the end of the week, I knew I'd write about her. Especially when she told me about the day she set her hair on fire. A priceless tale and the inspiration of a short story I wrote titled The Albino Girl (read it here).This short story turned out to be the first chapter of Sunny and the Leopard People, a fantasy novel set in Nigeria (time period: maybe a few years from now). It's technically a prequel to my second novel, The Shadow Speaker.Below is the link to an Angelique Kidjo video. This video very much inspired this novel, too. I saw this video years and years ago, but when I wrote this novel, the gods and spirits in this video came back to me. See it here.Needless to say, I'm ecstatic. :-)!!!!Tentative pub date: Spring 2010NnediRead more…
Posted by Dredwalker on August 27, 2008 at 10:15pm
Murder In Nufrika (Part III)Diana’s family home was in the middle of a Uganda safari, miles from modern civilization, although civilization was very evident in this well established mansion. Its structure was fashioned after the American White House. The house itself was deep purple, black and gold. Carter would joke that it could be seen from the same distance of a satellite. The front lawn was divided by a path of rubies to the front gate.Diana was born in New Orleans, United States. Her father was a gospel singer and minister. Her mother was an author who wrote many books. After many of his fans turning their backs on him for being “too secular”, he brought his family here and started a Yoruban choir. They travel all over the world while Diana’s mother traveled the continent so that she wouldn’t be to far away from their child. Of course they always use the holographic transporter from where ever they were stationed and transported their images home to keep Diana company.Diana, 15, has been here since she was nine. She was labeled privileged by her peers- even Carter. But she never liked being looked upon like that. Her family was rich enough to have a home in every continent. She cried every time they had a family reunion in New Antalaska. That’s a town in Antarctica that her family founded.So she often stayed behind in school to see what the kids were doing. That’s how she learned about the Yoruban culture and the Ghostbeat phenomenon. She met Carter about a year ago in a Ghostbeat match. Someone challenged him to a dance match and all the women went crazy over how he moved. By then she know how to ghostdance herself and she made him her partner. But now they have been more than just partners.Diana looked at Carter as he starred at panoramic wall that televised the news. The news recapped Tunde’s death and Diana was with Carter the last time he was alive.“Wanna talk?” Diana asked. They were both on the couch. Carter was motionless. He just stared. “Carter?” she was worried.“They found my DNA at the murder site.”“Huh?”Carter sighed. “They found . . . my DNA . . . at the murder site.”“How could they have done that? You were with me until you went home. By then we haven’t seen Tunde for hours.”“My father doesn’t think so.” Cater said with frustration. “I’ve always appreciated and supported the gift of technology, but even I know that it is only as limited as man allows it to be.”“We all do Carter. You me, Professor Penda, all our friends. Its part of why the next election is important.” Diana then had a thought. “Do you think his death had something to do with the election?”“Why?”“Tunde’s companies have a big influence in Nufrika. His fashions and accessories is pretty much the monopoly. You remember what Penda was discussing about Old Ashanti’s profits soaring due to the Ghostbeat generation?”Carter laughed out loud. “Ghostbeat Generation?! So now Ghostbeat is some political fad?”“Didn’t Tunde ask you about it the other day?”“Yeah, so? I love Ghostbeat music, but it isn’t some angry ancient hip-hop, or sleepy sad jazz. Ghostbeat music is about personal challenge--”“I know, I know.” Diana knew all too well. “Which is why our bodies become the beat themselves. But don’t you think that is what scares the elders? Personal challenge is what Penda is against.”“He wasn’t against it. He just saw that personal challenge is something to be taken seriously in a person’s life. Not to be some fad like Ghostbeat.”“It’s not a fad.”“Maybe not.” Said Carter. “But it’s not connected to Tunde’s death.”“So why was Tunde so nervous?”Carter thought for a moment. “Maybe it is connected to the election. Maybe it is more personal since somehow I’m connected. Who would know both me and Tunde?”“Most of Nufrika?” Diana suggested.They both laughed.The house audio system interrupted. “There is a visitor at the door.” It said. “It is holographic.”“It’s probably my father.” Said Carter.“House Computer, permit image into the living room.” said Diana.To their surprise, appearing before them was the holographic image of Rocky. Rocky was dressed in 20th century police uniform.“Carter Danjuma.” Said Rocky. “The correct greeting is Hotep, right?”“Hey Mr. Calhoun-““Officer Calhoun.” corrected Rocky.The need for Rocky to change the formalities was a clear message. “I have nothing to do with Tunde’s death.” defended Carter. “He was like family to me.”“I can witness to this.” Said Diana.“Carter, you know better.” Said Rocky. “And if you have listened to your father and I am sure you have, I am a hard ass. But I have some respect for your father, so I will contact him.”“You’re arresting me?” Carter asked.“For you, I will go against the book and bring you in as a friend. No cuffs, no reporters, no embarrassment. Just stay put for a half hour and I will arrive personally to pick you up. But don’t fuck me Carter. I will have every Bionic-Hound, every satellite, and every cop come after you like you shot the Prime King and the American President. Understood?”Carter and Diana looked at each other.“I’m coming with him.” Said Diana.“Fine.” Rocky said. “Let me get out of the best tub in the world so I can contact-” The holograph froze.A freezing holograph is usually a sign of a glitch in a computer. But soon the image regained animation. There was now a surprised look on Rocky’s face.“How did you do that?” Rocky asked.Carter was confused. “Do what?”“How did you get here so fast?” Rocky said.“I don’t understand” said Carter.Rocky stepped back. “Canes are outlawed Carter!”“I’m not holding a cane.” Said Carter.“He’s not talking to us.” Said Diana.Rocky’s hands went up in defense, swinging around as if he were being attacked. He screamed as it seemed to be losing the fight to an unseen attacker. Something struck him and he crouched down into a fetal position for protected. Whatever struck him did it again and again.“Somebody is in his house!” shouted Carter.Then the image dissolved into thin air.“Call the police.” Said Carter. “Get them to Rocky’s house.”-----------------------------------------------------I had a hard time looking at Tunde’s wife Ababuo as my holographic image stood outside the autopsy room. I was ashamed because I knew what she was thinking. My best friend was dead and I send a hologram to offer my condolence instead of being there myself. And somehow, a heart attack was not a good enough excuse at a time like this. I realized that when I saw her. I was alive. He was not. So I accepted her turning her back to me and continued into the room.Examining the body with a doctor, I saw many cane marks on Tunde's body. It was a clear cut case. Death by caning.Orisha, please bring calm to my people.Caning was outlawed well over a hundred years in Africa. It was one of those strange laws to enforce. If you bat or shot someone to death, you go to jail and serve life. But caning had a cultural message that proved problematic to the attacker. It stemmed from Madi’s method from keeping migrated African Americans in their place a hundred years ago. A new type of lynching; if you would. So today, if you were accused of caning, you would be lucky if you made it to jail. Often the police would have to protect the murderer from being snatched away by mobs. And often the mob was successful. So if you were seen with a cane, you were to receive heavy jail time.I looked at Dr. Elijah RaKeith of Ethiopia as he shook his head, examining the body. “I don’t know what to tell the public.” He said “I thought we as New Africans were past this.”“Hate wears new masks” I said.“All the time.” Dr.RaKeith agreed. “You are aware that this man was responsible for the Prime King’s previous election.”I laughed as I reminisced. “Tunde never wanted responsibility for that. All he did was dress the Prime King with fashion that identified with the youth. You don’t win an election for looking good.”“Why not?” Dr.RaKeith chuckled. “Happens all the time doesn’t it?”“I disagree. The people of New Africa have more depth than that.”“Of course Vinza. But you do realize image is everything. The Prime King’s fashion had a style that said: I may be old but I welcome fresh ideas. Just by wearing a Ghostbeat fashion jacket designed by Old Ashanti. He was the first to do it.The Prime King was already charismatic in the election. But that jacket secured his position.”“You’re talking crazy, doctor.” I said. “But you were not the first to ever say it.” I looked down at my friend Tunde before the doctor covered him. I pray to Orisha that Tunde has crossed over knowing that he will always be loved.My hologram left the room a few minutes later and I saw that Ababuo was still outside.“Ababuo. Please. You know he is my highest priority.”“Vinza. Stop being a cop for a minute and pretend to give a damn!” she shouted.“Why are you talking to me like this?” I asked. “I am sorry that I appear as a hologram to you, but don’t say I don’t care!”“Then why haven’t you called me! Why haven’t you called to find out what was going on! You care? Bullshit!” Ababuo started to then walk away.“Ababuo, stop!”Ababuo turned back to me. “Are you this ‘professional’ with your own family? Yurobans have heart. You didn’t call to say I’m sorry or anything.” She shook her head. “I pity you. Being Atraba’s Number One Sergeant has gone to your head.” She walked away again.I turned off the holographic transporter and crawled into my bed and stared at the ceiling, fighting my tears. I didn’t think I deserved what she said to me. And yet maybe there was some truth to her words.“Hotep Sergeant Vinza” Zula appeared before me. “DNA analyses have been confirmed.”“Let’s have it Zula.”“As confirmed before, the first DNA sample is owned by Carter G.W. Danjuma.”“The second?”“The second is owned by Fredrick Khufu Penda.”The name, at the moment was unfamiliar to me. “Who in the world is Fredrick Khufu Penda?”Ifama walked in with a man who I haven’t seen in weeks. He was my boss, Commissioner Calif Ali. I was surprised to see him here. And yet he and Ifama had a worried look on their faces.I got up from my bed. “Hello sir.”Calif sighed. “Hello Vinza.”I didn’t like suspense. “What’s wrong?”“Zula,” said Ifama. “Monitor my husband’s heart and stand by on yellow alert”“Vinza, a video is being downloaded into your computer.” Said Calif. “Officer Rocky Calhoun has been murdered in his own home.”I was more confused than surprised. “What? Two murders?”“By caning.” He said.“By caning???”“Please look at the video.” Said Calif.“Zula,” I said. “Play the recent video that had just been downloaded.”My window clouded and cleared into a screen. I watched with the greatest fear as a young man with a cane maliciously beat Rocky until he was dead. And then I fell to my bed when the man turned him face to the camera.The face was Carter’s.“Impossible.” Said Ifama. “He’s in Diana’s house right now!”“That may be true.” Calif. “Airbikes fly very fast.”“No!” said Ifama. “You don’t understand. He wouldn’t know where Rocky lives!”“I’m sorry.” Said Calif. “Carter is being arrested as we speak for two murders.”-----------------------------------------------------Reporters swarmed Diana’s house as four policemen cuff Carter's hands and shackled his feet. They lift him up and carried him out the house.“He’s being framed!” shouted Diana as she attempted to free Carter from the cop. But it was useless. Two of the policemen shoved her off them and she fell to the ground. She sprang back to her feet to try again but she was intercepted by another man who held her away from the chaos.“Diana, not like this! Stop it!” said the man as Carter was put into a police van. The reporters went chaotic. They took pictures of the arrest and overwhelmed Diana with questions.Diana looked to see that it was Professor Penda who pulled her away. “He didn’t do it!” she shouted. “He didn’t do it! He didn’t do it!”“Okay, he didn’t do it!” said Professor Penda, who was breathing heavily as if he was engaged in some exhausting activity. “You have to calm down, Diana. Let the courts handle this.”“Oh my lord Jesus!!” Diana cried.And the Satellites teleported to the minds of many citizens to watch the evening news of a Murder in Nufrika.Details at Eleven.TO BE CONTINUEDRead more…
