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…
Posted by Dredwalker on August 27, 2008 at 10:06pm
Murder In Nufrika (Part II)I slammed the phone down on Calhoun’s ear. His arrogance has made my blood boil. Although I am the Sergeant there is a level of respect that I got at the precinct that I could do without. Although they never made it blatant, half the officers resented didn’t respect me due to my American ancestry. I was not going to bring my son down to be subjected to Calhoun’s or other’s scrutiny. Not a madilover like him.“Zula, I want a video, audio, and bio recording of everything that goes on in my room until I say stop”“Recording activated.” replied Zula.May Orisha monitor my temperament. “Carter!” I shouted.Carter came into my room. “Yes father?”I didn’t know what to do. To interrogate my son is the scariest thing I have ever had to do. Only because of the answer I might get. “Did you see Tunde in the last 24 hours?”“Yes I did. At the Prime King’s party. I wanted to tell you about it but because of your condition-““Tell me about it now, what happened?”“Well, Tunde and I were debating about the influence of ghostbeat and its influence of Nufrikan law-““Son!” I didn’t have the patience of listening about any young ghostbeatting stupidness. “They found your DNA at the murder site. I need to know what went on last night that would make this possible!”Carter had a confused look on his face. “My DNA?” he was at a lost for words.“Answer me Carter!”“I have no answer!”“Why did you tap into Zula’s server this morning? What where you erasing?”“I didn’t erase anything. All I did was upgrade Zula’s language configuration.”“Zula, are you reading the heart rate of my son?”“His heart rate has steadily increased in all his responses. According to the sonic polygraphs emitting from him, his answers doesn’t correspond.” Replied Zula.“That means you are a liar Carter.” I said.“That means that you would believe a machine before you would believe me!” Carter shouted.“DON’T YELL AT YOUR FATHER!”While Zula babbled something about my stress level, Ifama came in. “What in the world is going on here!”“You think I got something to do with Tunde’s death!” Carter shouted.“What?” Ifama looked at me.“His DNA has been found at the site.” I said. “So when I started questioning him, his polygraph revealed him a liar.”Carter turned and rushed out the door.“Where are you going!” I shouted.“Shut up Vinza!” Ifama. “Orisha and Princess Candace Spirit, will you stop it! You just had a heart attack. Lay down! NOW!”“Stress level of Sergeant Vinza is now on code yellow.” Said Zula.“Zula, shut-up.” said Ifama. “End all recordings and just monitor his bio readings on mute. I’m the only one who gets to talk.”As I obeyed my wife and laid down, I heard Carter’s airbike engine start up.“You’ll drive our only son out the house and you into your own grave.” Ifama said. “You of all people know a polygraph hasn’t proved a thing since the day it was invented.”I heard Carter take off on his bike. “Our son has been implicated in the murder of our friend. Ifama, doesn’t that concern you?”“Yes it does! More the reason why we shouldn’t lose control. And more the reason why we should look to the Holy One for guidance.”“Well maybe Orisha shouldn’t allow me to have such a bad heart.” I said out of frustration.“Oh yes. It’s Orisha’s fault. Not the double mozzarella quarter pounder spicy buffalo steak with the special sauce they serve at the precinct everyday.”I started to say something but Ifama cut her eyes at me daring me to do so.“Rest.” She said. “I will talk to Carter when he gets back.” She then gave me a warning look as she left the room.I waited a half hour before I got out of bed again.“Zula, arrange my holographic transporter and send it to the coordinates of the south of the Nile River.”“15 minutes to image transportation.”“And keep it quiet, I don’t want Ifama to know.”The holographic transporter is used to create a life size image of me and transport it to any location around the world while I am in my house. This is used with the same satellite that transmits telepathy. With this transporter, people can see and interact with me as a hologram wherever I appear while I am doing other things, like staying sick in bed due to a heart attack.I had felt bad at the way I treated my son. I realized that part of my behavior was influenced by my resentment to Rocky Calhoun. He is a known Madilover.Madilover.Shackled Thinkers.I would imagine that if my 21 century American ancestors were to see into today, that they would rejoice in the notion that “nigger” has now become an archaic word and no longer was spewed from the mouths of anyone. It is true. But the word has not faded simply because of some miraculous awakening or unanimous revelation that has made a serious and ugly impact on a race of people. Sadly it has been replaced, and created here . . . In Africa.My holographic image was transported to the site where Tunde’s body was discovered. Controlling the hologram, I was able to “walk” around the site.There where two police cars and a few patrol air bikes surrounding the site. The men pulled out their holographic identifiers when they saw my image. The identifiers registered my signature and password. They were then pleased to meet me.“Hotep Sergeant!” said one of the officers.“Hotep” I said. “They removed the body, yes?”“Quite a few hours ago sir.”“Do you a have a video of the crime scene?”“I have it.” said a voice.I turned to see another hologram on the scene. It was Rocky Calhoun. “Hotep Rocky.”“Vinza!” Rocky smiled. “How’s your heart?”“I’m still in bed.”“I’m in the bathtub myself.” said Rocky. “You have to try this new invention that came from Ethiopia. You pour a powder into the tub, and the bubbles message your whole body! My girlfriend tried it last week and now she wants to break up with me because the bubbles touch her in ways she said I won’t. I was mad at her until now. Whoa!”I didn’t respond. I was just wishing I was that we were there instead of our holographs so that I can choke the life out of him.“Anyway,” Rocky went on. “When do we get to talk to your son?”“That’s not going to happen, Calhoun.”“Awwww!” Rocky said in mock despair. “Let’s not do this. I like you Vinza. That’s why I’m going easy on you. You’re going through a lot. But this is an investigation. And even you are not above Nufrikan law.” He let out a laugh. “Did you hear what I said? ‘Nufrikan’ law. I’m down with the kids!”“You said my son’s DNA was extracted from here?” I said over his attempt to be comical.“Yup. Blood.”“I saw no bruises on my son.” I said.“Maybe you didn’t check him thoroughly.”“So you think he did it?”“I’m saying with your friend’s death and your son’s involvement, it’s easy not to think clearly. I recommend this fucking bubble bath. You wanna talk about stress relief! Look I know your Yuroban believe is very strong and family bonding which is another reason why you are not in the right mind-"“Hey!” I shouted. “Don’t you disrespect me and my religion, Calhoun. I know how to do my job! I’ve been at this profession longer than you.”“Yeah I know. Who would have thought black people would have affirmative action on black people?”“You know what Rocky? I’m here to investigate a crime. But if you want to get nasty with me, we can turn off these holographs and we can meet each other face to face.”“Vinza, I would love to do that. But these damn bubbles are working something on me too good right now. So I’ll take a rain check.”“Whatever.”“100 year anniversary of New Africa. The more things change, they stay the same. I get the feeling you don’t need my help here. So I’ll come back when you are done. The video is being downloaded to your server right now. Oh yeah. Hotep.” He said with laughter.Rocky’s hologram disappeared. And I went and inspected the site.It was during the first union of Africa when the welcome “Come Home” campaign adopted the Marcus Garvey dream with its premise: A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots. Such words inspired and motivated many African Americans such as my great-grandparents to leave California and settle here in Atabra. However due to the massive migration and cultural differences, many people here were not comfortable with what they called an invasion of the American Black immigrants. In Banjul, Senator Madi Saikou sought foreign help with Libya, a country known at the time hostile to American affairs since Kaddafi and his successors. With underground Libyan financing he rose to create a movement called the (AAIP) Anti-American Immigrant Power. His movement was persuasive enough for five African countries to consider succeeding from this new union called New Africa.It was Princess Candace, who we Yurobans call the First Lady of Yuroba for refounding this continent’s largest religion who faced off with Madi.“The black American is poison!” Was Madi’s patterned speech. “And I say this out of pity! Because America has poisoned them! So they have nothing! Look at their history! American has bred them like mindless dogs! They betray each other! They cage each other! They kill each other! And why! Because their ancestors abducted from our land in shackles! Their president freed their bodies but kept their mind in shackles! And now they want to bring their shackled thinking back here! We’ve worked hard to unite as Africans to allow shackled thinkers to poison our rich culture. They want to come here but they don’t know what to do once they are here! Because they are too shackled to learn! They are too shackled to change! The land of opportunity bestowed them greatness we couldn’t dream! So why do they want to come here? To connect? To embrace??? They can’t help what they have become! Shackled Thinkers!”His speech branded us. “Shackled Thinkers” or “Estees – (S.T.’s)” rang throughout the continent like wildfire, and created a new civil war as six countries declared succession from New Africa.But it was only simple words of Princess Candace that made that ended the war and many opposing country see the error of their ways. “You who oppose the Black Americans oppose the African Diaspora. Because Africa is everywhere. It is the Diaspora that made New Africa possible! Long live Pan-Africa!”In time she led the repatriotism of the six countries back to the New African union. This angered Madi and what was left of his followers. So much so that he plotted to kill Candace. They have succeeded by throwing her off a twelve story building. And as history tells it, twelve days later Madi was found dead. The cause of death is unknown, but his body was found standing upright leaning face first against the door of Candace’s monastery.This was a century ago. Today people tell their rendition of that legend and what they make of it. People who followed Madi’s philosophy – the Madilovers – dismissed the whole story altogether.“Vinza.”As soon as my wife said my name, I turned away from the holographic transporter and looked at her innocently.“Carter is at his girlfriend’s house.” She said while her scolding eyes said I thought I told you to stay in bed.“Girlfriend?”“You didn’t know he has a girlfriend?”“You mean the Christian?”“She’s a nice girl." said Ifama. "What did you find out since you are being so stubborn?”“I’ve read the reports, and there are other traces of DNA whose owners are being scanned right now. I would tap into the precinct server for the data but it is so full of madilovers I’m skeptical of what they put into the data. So if Carter was there, he wasn’t alone.”TO BE CONTINUEDRead more…
Murder In Nufrika (Part I)Atabra, Sudan. February 23, 2216. Five days before the first centennial of “New Africa”, as the elder politicians still call it. The average citizen chuckle and scoff at the archaic pronunciation. The term was now “Nufrika” coined by the young and those who resist the conformed. Even my 15 year old son, Carter G.W. Danjuma (Because he was born on a Friday) finds such people – I included – Unhip. But he promised his mother that he would take part of the festivities.“But if they play that old music stuff called hippo hop,” Carter warned. “I’m going to rip my ears off!”Youth. They can’t appreciate a thing. Their idea of music is called ghostbeat. Ghostbeat as these kids described, is dancing to the beat that isn’t there.Yes, I know. It doesn’t make sense to me either. And yet billions of dollars have been invested in into, Ghostbeat.I laid in my lounge chair looking out the window into the Nile River. Old couples wind-sailed on the water and allowed the winds carry the boats about aimlessly. High over the river people coasted on their air bikes. Most of them were youths that couldn’t get enough of soaring through the air. 25 miles north of the river I was supposed to meet my friend of 40 years Tunde Hayes, son of Carl Darfur Hayes. Carl was the president of four companies, one of which was called Old Ashanti, a clothing design store Tunde ran that introduced a new fabric that is popularized by the rest of the world. Tunde and I were to go over security procedures for the centennial celebration for the hundredth time. Call it boasting, but I’m one of the most respected sergeants in Atabra. Tunde had always known this. But this year he seemed a little concerned, almost paranoid. I couldn’t understand why.“Internet” I said out loud. My window clouded into darkness and soon emerged a screen appeared in its place. The internet appeared in the screen and prompted a question: Which site please? “Old Ashanti.” I answered. I was ordering a new police suit in the site. The old suit was already six months old and the idea of using an iron seemed a little laboring. Synthetic material was cheap and fast nowadays. I punched in my size and design. Warrior patch was what I was in the mood for. And my wife Ifama lately liked me wearing that when we were intimate.That and Afriagra. But what do you want? I’m 54.As I got out the shower, Ifama yelled from the living room that my suit has arrived.“I don’t know why they took so long.” she said. “I thought it takes a half hour.”“Good African design demands the respect of time.” I quoted from an Old Ashanti commercial that my personal satellite beamed into my head when I slept. But my wife was correct. 45 minutes did seem unusual. It was big competitive business to get your fashion order to arrive in 30 minutes or less. But I didn’t complain.A hologram beamed out from the screen. Zula, my personal automated computerized administrative assistance service appeared. I programed her to appear like the 20th century actress Dorothy Dandridge.“Hotep, Seargent Vinza” said the hologram“Good Morning, Zula. What is the day looking like?”“Today in your part of Nufrika, it is 107 degrees”My wife came in with my suit as I was drying off. We both gave Zula a strange look. “I didn’t program you to say ‘Nufrika.’ I said.“Carter has tapped into my server at 6:13AM.” Zula replied. “Should I activate the system restore feature?”Ifama looked as me and laughed. “It’s your fault. You haven’t been spending time with Carter lately, so he had to find a way to get your attention.”I made a mental note to scold my son later. “No that’s fine.” I said to Zula. “Just remove his language plug-in and replace it with ‘New Africa.’”“Processing. In the meantime, will you be praying to Orisha today?”I found that question unusual. My family usually does Yoruban prayers at dinner and special events. “What’s happening today Zula?”“My data files indicated that you were aware of the news.”“What? What news? Retrieve the files that said when I was aware.”“Data files was erased as of 15 seconds ago. Details of data are no longer accessible.” said Zula. “All I have is that you were aware of the news that Tunde Hayes was found dead off the south bank of the White Nile this morning. This is why I thought you were going to prayer today.”“Oh god!” shouted Ifama.I clutched my chest and lost my footing. As I fell, Ifama grabbed me and took me to my bed. I couldn’t feel my left arm.“Zula!” shouted Ifama. “Activate the CPR Emergency Unit! Now!”I felt electric current channel through my bed and into my body as my wife placed an oxygen mask over my face. I then blacked out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Kasala, Sudan. Carter was having a debate with his teacher Professor Penda about the upcoming election for Nufrika’s Prime King (or Queen) when he had to cut it short and rush out of the classroom. Carter jumped on his air bike and soon was airborne at an altitude of 600 feet. His mother just telepathed the news of his father into his brain via satellite, and he was off. Ifama always warned him not to go faster than the speed of sound, especially a kid his age. It was the law in New Africa.Fuck Nufrikan law, he said to himself as he peered down at the Blue Nile below him. Following the path of the river was how he got home. As much as he loved Nufrika, these old politicians were nothing but ignorant shackled thinkers. Always wanting the young to give respect but give no respect in return. Take the Satellite Telepathy Order. These old fools want to ban them because of some “health risk.” Centuries ago the white man invented a cell phone that causes cancer in the head, and nobody cared! An African invents the S.T.O. and now people wishes to ban it because of reports of nightmares? Shackled thinkers! They are just mad because they didn’t come up with it! This was why he was taking up political studies. Here they are at the 100th Anniversary of “New-Africa” where they are the new world financial leader, but they are still stuck in the old ways. But Orisha is wise. And Orisha has chosen him to lead his generation into His light.There were important matters now. He had just seen Tunde the night before at the Prime King’s party. But thinking back closely now, Tunde seemed strangely quiet. But now he was dead and his father just had a heart attack. He should make it home in about two to three hours if the police didn’t stop him.Carter also decided that it wasn’t a good idea to bring up Diana. He really liked her. She shared as much passion for political issues as he did. And they both wanted to make a difference in Nufrika. So what if she was Christian? She liked listening to ghostbeat music and they both looked good dancing to it. But his father has his prejudice, and the Yoruban faith was important to him. But again Orisha is wise for He is not prejudiced._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Carter landed on the runway behind his house where his mother greeted him.“I tracked your trip” she scolded Carter. “How many times I told you a teenager your age shouldn’t be speeding through the skies faster than the speed of sound? I should take your bike away from you!”“Momma, you should be glad that I made it as fast as could.”“Not if it means crashing against a mountain!”“Fine, momma. I am sorry. Where is daddy?”“He’s awake with a lot on his mind.” said Ifama. “And you shouldn’t have messed around with Zula. You caused her to delete information that was important to your father.”“I am sorry momma.”Ifama calmed down and looked at her growing boy. It seemed like only yesterday when Orisha blessed her with his birth. And as different as he was trying to be with his strange “hip” clothes and that silly music with the beat that isn’t there crap, he was still like his father. Always challenging the status quo. “You know uncle Tunde is dead.”“Yes momma. Will we pray for him tonight?”“That’s up to your father.”I heard my son when he landed on the runway with his airbike. I regret the day I bought it for him on his 13th birthday. But then I remember when my father bought one for me when I was young. The New African police caught me speeding at mach 2.5 every month. I couldn’t fly again until I was 17. That was embarrassing.I used the telephone to contact my men at the state police station because, according to Zula, my body couldn’t handle satellite telepathy in its weak condition. I would have to wait for King Kendar, ruler of Ethiopia to give his personal doctor permission to rejuvenate my arteries. Ethiopia has excelled in medicine in the last 75 years to the point where every citizen is a commodity because of their medical knowledge. They were responsible for curing Aids, Mega-Aids, Inventing Afriagra, Extending human life expectancy 27%, Supers skin cell regeneration for burnt victims, and many other medical wonders. King Kendar was the best surgeon of them all, but as they say even a doctor needed a doctor.Ifama, was scolding him about his speeding, I was sure of it. But soon he walked in the room where I was resting. Zula was standing by my bedside monitoring my heart condition.“Hotep Daddy” Carter greeted.“Hello Carter.” I smiled.“Are you okay?”“I’m weak. Hopefully I’ll be better when King Kendar sends a doctor.”“We have our own doctors why do we have to wait for him?” Carter said in frustration.“Because my medical insurance pays for the best. So trust the Kendar Sheild.” - Another slogan beamed in my head some nights ago.Another problem with Nufrika, Carter said to himself.“Father I am sorry if I caused any discrepancies with Zula.”“That’s fine son. Right now we have to make preparations for prayer at the site where Tunde was found.”“We should pray now father. You are no condition to travel.”“Seargent Vinza,” Zula interrupted. “Your job is on the line. Detective Rocky Calhoun wishes to speak to you.”I sighed when I picked up the phone. My faith teaches me not to hate, but Rocky was a f**king son of a b*tch that brings out the worst in me. “Hello Calhoun”“Vinza!” Rocky shouted on the phone. “Wow, I forgot how these tell-a-phone thingys work! Hold on a second, a spider just crawled out of mine. Eeeew! Disgusting! Okay I’m back. Hey I heard about your heart attack! Hey things have been going bad here. Carl wants answers and he wants you!”“Yes my wife took the message while I was unconscious.”“Well I know what its like to have a heart attack. Had two myself! Good thing we got that Kendar Shield huh!” Rocky laughed out long and hard.“Lucky you.” I muttered.“What?”“I said what news do you have for me?”“We got a link! I think that’s why Carl wants to see you! Tunde was found dead with multiple stab wounds. Man you should have been at the crime scene. Half his body was buried in the sand- ““Calhoun!”“Huh?”“Focus. You said there is a link?”“Oh! Your son! We found blood with your son’s DNA. We need him downtown. Now.”TO BE CONTINUEDRead more…
I am here to day to tell youOf a step forwardOr maybe one backwardsIn space age technologyWhen you here what I sayYou may shutterThe coal powered space shuttleYou’ll get were you’re goingJust as fastBut slowerIts modern technologyFrom yesterdaytodayWho needs potent liquidWhen you have black rocksIt’ll be just like grilling in spaceBut in any caseIf its good enough for a trainIts good enough for a planeThat flies in outer spaceIt’s the technology of tomorrowFrom yesterdayTodayThe coal powered space shuttle
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This comment is for every single member on this page. I am proud to be a member of this page. It is beautiful to come into this site and see all the new members from all over the world joining in. The sENERGY that this page produces is radiating cosmic-ly. It is wonderful to connect to such creative people with amazing diversity. POWER to the members of BSFS. And from me I send nothing but beautiful, loving ENERGY to each and every one of you. Let's keep it going strong.
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Three hours earlier, Admiral McCray and First Officer Thorvald were ferried back to their ship on board the NeoAfrican cruiser, Douglass.Admiral McCray and the cruiser’s captain, Anita Johnson, had a pleasant conversation, while Thorvald looked on in his usual silence. When McCray and the captain parted it was with good cheer and the two Unity Expedition officers walked through the docking tube connecting the Douglass to the Admiral’s command ship Swiftstrider.“This is intolerable,” Thorvald hissed the moment he stepped foot inside the Unity ship.The Swiftstrider’s captain Trevor Whitlok, accompanied by Hedrik Jaffers, commander of the Drop Marine Contingent were present in the reception wing to greet their Admiral and First Officer.McCray responded joyfully to the officers’ greetings.Thorvald brushed past them in a venomous huff.“He seems to be in a good mood,” Captain Whitlok grinned.“Thorvald is a bit under stress,” McCray explained with a wink and a nod.“Being on a planet full of goddamn niggers is more than just a bit of stress for me, sir!” The First Officer blurted, his jaw twitching so noticeably it threatened to unhinge itself. “A whole goddamn planet full of bloody blacks.”Whitlok and the heavily muscled marine commander traded amused glances at Thorvald’s fury.“This is not the first time we have been around their kind,” said McCray as he and his officers embarked down a brightly lit corridor.“No Admiral, but it is the first time we’ve been around so many,” Thorvald emphasized with a distasteful grimace. “And they’re so damned smug, a bunch of inferiors claiming they built that civilization. White people founded that colony, created all that technology, not a bunch of goddamn niggers!”“Then what happened to the whites?” Asked Comander Jaffers.Thorvald scowled. “Either they left or those niggers killed them all.”The officers entered the bridge.A bank of display screens covered every area of bulkhead space, most showing real time visuals of Brookinsia, and its orbital network. The remaining displays showed images of the other six worlds that comprised the NeoAfrican Federation.Bridge crew remained focused on their terminal interfaces, hardly acknowledging the Admiral or their captain.McCray glowed with approval. He liked a busy crew.“In the end, it’s irrelevant how the blacks acquired their technology,” McCray said. “Some of their gadgetry and machinery will prove useful to us. It’s just a matter of discovering which.”“The sooner we make that discovery the sooner we scorch their filthy planets,” Thorvald insisted with a feral gleam in his eye.“Without a doubt,” McCray agreed. He eased down in his cushioned command chair. A small part of him disdained the chair’s comfort. He was a lifelong soldier, long accustomed to the hardships of duty. The soothing chair remained a difficult perk for him to accept even after several years of leading expeditions.A bridge officer approached the Admiral with a spherical device in hand. The officer held the device in front of McCray’s right eye and a chittering sound emanated from the object.McCray’s eye was not real. It was artificial. The eye did more than enable McCray to see, it was an imager and a visual recorder.The device wielded by the bridge officer extracted and stored the visual data captured by McCray’s eye. After ten seconds of extraction and storage, the officer inserted the device in an instrument panel slot for downloading. Almost immediately, images of the people and places McCray had seen appeared on the central display screen.The admiral ordered the officer to fast forward the sequence of images, then raised his hand in a stop gesture. A scene of the dinner with the NeoAfrican president froze on the screen.“That’s their so-called president,” said Thorvald, his tone laced with ridicule.Captain Whitlok curled his lip. “Good God, he’s blacker than my boot sole.”“A stupid, degenerate looking bunch if ever I’ve seen one,” Jaffers added.“You disparage them,” said McCray. “But keep in mind, they are a smart bunch of degenerates. Their instruments detected the power sources to our weaponry. Do you know what that means? It means they know how well armed we are. It also means that they are watching us and that they are not to be underestimated.”The air of mockery evaporated under the heat of McCray’s glare.Thorvald, Whitlok and Jaffers straightened, their expressions dutifully serious.McCray returned his focus to the screen. “There.” He pointed. “They call that machine a servor droid. Lt. Kobern, transfer that image to Sci-Engineering. I X rayed the droid, so Krindal and his staff will be able to study its inner workings.”“Right away, sir,” acknowledged the officer who extracted the data from McCray’s eye.“Pardon me, Admiral, but why are you interested in a harmless servant droid?” Asked a bewildered Thorvald.McCray spared an indulgent smile. “That harmless servant droid will give us some insight into how we can build very small attack drones with the ability to maneuver flawlessly through enclosed environments like buildings or space vessels. There’s much application that be derived from the mundane.”Thorvald nodded in appreciation of the admiral’s rationale. “Of course, sir.”“Admiral, Jolene did not accompany you,” said the captain.“She’s still on the planet,” McCray confirmed.Whitlok’s brow furrowed in a troubled look. “Sir, she’s down there among all those blacks, alone. I’m concerned.”“Jolene can take care of herself, Captain,” McCray replied confidently. “She has a job to do, as do we all. By the time we move on from this part of space I trust our efforts will have been met with resounding success.”Dr. Joshua Akobe indicated the holo image of the Unity ship that floated in the middle of the Noir House main conference room.President Dula, Minister Amari, First Commander Oden, Directors Vick and Dellums, Mensah and five other top level civilian and military officials were present in the room.As head of the Brookins Lab, the largest, most renowned institute for scientific research in the Federation, Dr. Akobe’s easy expertise of the topic he was presenting more than justified his exalted position.“The materials scan Captain Johnson conducted on the Unity ships revealed the standard superhardened metallics. However, the scan also picked up conspicuous traces of what I would refer to as dormant high energy layering the hulls.”“Dormant high energy?” said Dula, intrigued.“Yes, Mr. President. The reason I call it that is because my lab has been exploring the concept of combining energy and matter. You see, Mr. President, our warships employ energy shielding to preserve hull integrity during battle. The shield is generated from a power source within the ship. A hull protected by matter/energy shielding requires no external generation. Matter/energy automatically increases density when subjected to extreme stress such as a missile impact.”“Are you saying that the Unity ships have no conventional shielding?” asked First Commader Oden.“Oh, it’s possible,” Dr. Akobe speculated. “What I’m saying is that any conventional shielding they may have is likely a reinforcement of the probable dormant high energy shield protecting their hulls.”“If that’s the case, then their ships are practically invincible,” Minister Amari commented soberly. As a former Fleet officer, the Defense Minister was certainly no novice when it came to warship capabilities.“Dr. Akobe,” addressed the president. “You say your lab is studying matter/energy integration?”“Yes, Mr. President. The research is at a very early stage, but deep analysis of the scans provided by Captain Johnson should reveal data that will enable us to jump ahead several steps toward development.”“Very good, Doctor. While you’re doing that, I want you to find ways to neutralize a matter/energy shield.”“Of course, Mr. President.”“Thank you for your valuable input.”“My pleasure, Mr. President.” Dr. Akobe inclined his head to President Dula and departed the conference room.Dula turned to Mensah. “So, Robert, what is your evaluation of our guests?”“Admiral McCray doesn’t lack charm, Jolene Karsen is full of enthusiasm and Thorvald is about as vocal as a tree limb,” Mensah critiqued dryly.“Why did they want to go to the Technology Museum?” Asked Director Vick.“Was the museum on a list of sites that you recommended they visit?”Mensah didn’t care for the underlying implication in Vick’s question.Before the Chief Advisor could fling a verbal barb, Minister Amari jumped in. “What are you suggesting, Tirel, that Robert compromised our security by allowing our guests to visit a public building filled with relics?”“With respect, Defense Minister, our guests may find something in those relics which they might consider adaptable to their own technology.”“We have plenty of popular publications, historical archives, and academic journals for public consumption,” said Dula. “Any one of those sources contain material that is potentially useful to someone, somewhere. And McCray can easily access those those sources without ever stepping foot inside a museum. Needless to say, I am confident about our ability to keep classified information within the proper classified bounds.” The president’s statement on the matter was decisive, signaling an end to that discussion.Vick nodded meekly.“In two hours Admiral McCray is going to address the Senate,” Donovan Knightly, Minister of Information Affairs, stated. “The senators are as enchanted by these people as the public. They’ve become the darlings of the media.”“I understand,” said Dula. “We would be going against the grain of public opinion if my administration were to advocate a more cautious approach to McCray and those immensely powerful ships he commands.”“We just have to make sure that a viewpoint not so friendly to our guests is disseminated to the public,” Director Vick suggested.The president thrust a finger in agreement. “You are absolutely right. To those elements in our society who think McCray is akin to a messenger from the gods, rational, balanced thinking is sorely needed. I want you and Minister Knightly to work together, make sure our viewpoint is published widely in all the prominent and not so prominent dailies and weeklies.” Regarding Mensah with a lopsided smile: “In the meantime, Robert, continue to cater to our guests. Put on your best face, as we all must, until their intentions are deciphered.”
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Regally attired humans gyrated wildly to the beat of the latest pop tune. A few stumbled about with drunken abandon, others laid out on the floor, their faces locked in rigor mortis expressions of drug-induced bliss. Humans fight hard, party harder. With total victory over the Tacherins in our grasp, the rowdiness of the celebrants did not surprise me in the least.There were relatively few Vingin present. They tended to cluster in groups, forming little islands of calm amid the clamor of human excess.I thanked my Vingin greeters and ventured into the vast room.“Commander First Tier!” A voice rang out.I turned to see my second-in-command—former second-in-command—standing behind me.Kelte’s rock-featured face was softened by a wry smile. I didn’t know if that smile came from the potent ale sloshing around in the glass he held in his right hand, or from the buxom red-haired beauty he clutched with his left.“Kelte, I see you’ve found a partner for the night.” I nodded to the woman who I recognized as Lt. Ima Jiran, 3rd Demolition Group.Jiran returned the nod with an inviting smile. “He’s arranged for an intimate encounter with three others. You’re welcome to join us,” she offered.I wrenched my gaze away from Jiran’s appealing cleavage to catch sight of a tall woman in the crowd. She wore a shimmering red gown that captured every sensual contour of her flawless body. The contrast between the fabric’s fiery red and the cool, dark brown of her skin tone was more intoxicating than any mind altering brew available to this gathering.“I…appreciate the offer, Ima, but Kelte’s going to have to go it alone. I’ve already got a partner picked out, and with her I definitely don’t want any distractions.”Kelte followed my gaze across the room.My interest was making her way toward us.The lines in Kelte’s forehead crinkled in mock indignation. “Always leaving me to the hard tasks. The higher your rank the more you abuse it.”“A shame isn’t it?” I replied, taking a glass of ale from a passing Vingin with a serving tray.“I thought after your meeting with the general I’d be addressing you as Private,” Kelte stated seriously. “Lucky bastard…sir.”“Lucky?” I let out a bitter snort. “I suppose in the sense that it takes me out of action for the rest of this war. Unfortunately, that means that my replacement might turn out to be a slavish enforcer of DefenseCommand’s directives. I fear for your well being if that’s the case.”“Don’t fear for me, Lev. I’ll be damned if I get killed on account of some squeeze-ass, know nothing stiff.”Jiran arched a brow up at her intensely outspoken companion. “It sounds like you’re going to miss him.”Kelte’s fierce grimace melted to a warm grin. “I suppose I will. But I meant what I said about squeeze-asses!”By that time, the woman who so captivated me, appeared at my side. She wrapped a finely muscled arm around my waist.Her name was Tione Herlik, Unit Leader, TAT Special Missions. During the last operation, she went by another name: Dagger One.“We’ve got a new name for you, Tione,” said Kelte.Tione drew me close, planting a moist kiss on my lips, before focusing midnight dark eyes on Kelte. “And what name would that be?”“Tacherin-killer.”Tione cast an amused look my way. A black lock of braided hair dangled in front of her forehead. “Isn’t that what they’re calling you?”I took a sip of minty ale, and then ran my hand from the small of her back down the well rounded curve of her buttocks. “Well, I gave the order, but you led the teams that detonated the charges.”“Yes, but Jiran increased the yield in the charges.”While Jiran tried to repel the credit cast her way, I noticed General Ternal moving toward a dais that had been set up in the middle of the room. Accompanying him was a Vingin with blue-green membranes draping from his body. That coloring marked this particular Vingin as a person of distinction. In Vingin society, the color of membranes was an indicator of where one stood in their strictly hierarchical social structure.Ternal stepped on the dais and instantly the music ceased.The revelers were immediately drawn to the general’s presence, ushering in an all encompassing quiet that drifted over the hall. I saw more than a few inebriated humans swaying on their feet, their expressions rigidly attentive.Dour looking as all ways, Ternal spoke, his voice projected by hidden amplifiers. “Humans and Vingin, I bring wonderful news. Yinter has been liberated from the murderous yoke of Tacherin occupation.”Cheers exploded from humans.Vingin wagged their heads in their own native expressions of joy.Yinter was among the first Vingin planets to be conquered.“You think there are any Vingin left alive?” Tione asked as she clapped at the news.Her grim sentiment reflected my own. I went a step further, wondering if Yinter still had its original ecosystem.“Our forces continue to inflict catastrophic losses upon the enemy,” Ternal continued. “At the beginning of the year, DefenseCommand projected complete victory to be two, three standard years at the most. As we approached the midway point, and we discovered the enemy to be in a far weaker position than we anticipated, we changed our projections to a matter of weeks.”Another round of cheering.Much as I disliked the general, I couldn’t refrain from giving an enthusiastic yelp.Ternal raised a hand to still the happy commotion. “A moment of silence for those who died in our most recent, and successful effort to eradicate the Tacherin infestation.”Every head in the room bowed.I shut my eyes. I shouldn’t have done that. I saw too many dead comrades.The moment passed. I downed the last of my ale as if it were water.“Simply defeating the Tacherin will not be enough,” said Ternal in a tone that seemed to convey the barest hint of regret. “The threat that even one Tacherin represents to the well being of civilized species is a most dire one indeed. One Tacherin left alive is one Tacherin too many.”The implication in that statement was clear as a glass to me. I’m sure it was equally as transparent to everyone else.“And now, it is my privilege and an honor to introduce Utal er Con, Grand Spokesmaster of the Vingin Supreme Council.”Tione and I exchanged surprised glances. I knew this Vingin was important, but a representative of the Vingin’s highest governing body? Here?Utal er Con took Ternal’s spot on the dais amid human applause.I noticed the Vingin in the crowd bending their ephemeral bodies forward in a collective bow.The Spokesmaster waited for the applause to fade. When he spoke, his high pitch voice carried across the room like the graceful sound of a flute.“On behalf of all Vingin, I want to offer my deepest, sincere thanks to humanity for what you have done for us.” Utal er Con’s easy command of human speech was phenomenal. Few Vingin, especially those in the elite, could communicate with humans without the aid of translators. That a Vingin, of Utal er Con’s standing, had taken the time to learn our crude tongue could be considered the highest gesture of respect toward humans.I was personally flattered.“Several millennia ago, when our probes first detected, then ascertained the nature of the Tacherins, we, in consultation with our Ziran allies, considered migration. Our subsequent alliance with humans made that contingency unnecessary. Human resources, human determination and ultimately, human lives, contributed to the victory that we now celebrate. We honor you. We honor your goodness, your nobility…”The Spokesmaster’s lavishing of gratitude went on for nearly half an hour.During that time, I gulped down two more glasses of ale and was beginning to feel the floor moving beneath my feet.Finally, Utal er Con’s speech ended.General Ternal returned to the dais. “Before I permit the evening’s festivities to resume, I want to honor a few of the men and women whose bold leadership, fearlessness and unbreakable will exemplify the warrior spirit that propels our soldiers to victory after victory.”Somehow, Ternal spotted me in the crowd.I knew he couldn’t have been talking about me, although, I immodestly noted, those characteristics he named did apply to me.“Lev Gorlin, Commander First Tier. Please step forward.”Damn.“Must’ve really pained the general to say those nice things about me,” I mused as I moved a soft finger down the middle of Tione’s sweat-glistened back. We were in my quarters aboard a troop transport orbiting Uin. This was the first real R and R either of us had enjoyed in months. So far we hadn’t wasted a second of it.Tione nuzzled closer to me. “You’re thinking about him? Now? I’m beginning to wonder about you.”I tickled her lightly beneath the chin invoking a sweet giggle. Hard to believe this lovely package I was intertwined with was a hardened killing machine. I gave her a long, deep kiss. When our lips parted, her eyes peered longingly into my own. “You still wondering?” I asked playfully.“You still thinking about Ternal?”I shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I’m a little uncomfortable being publicly celebrated by him even as he privately vilifies me.”Tione sat up, positioning herself to rest her chin on my chest. “Word has it that you’re popular with most of the brass.”“And where are you getting this word?” I scoffed.“I hear things.” She was being coy. “Now, I want you to put the general out of your mind, go to Strategic Planning and do the best job that you can possibly do. In the meantime, I’ve been slated to lead joint operations against Tacherin holdouts on Redeen.”“Joint operations? With who?”“The Zirans, who else?”I frowned, trying to digest this surprise. “The Zirans never did anything jointly with humans. Why now?”Tione looked as puzzled as I did, but I could tell she wasn’t interested in trying to figure this new development out. “Who knows?”She laid flat, her head framed by the pillow it rested on, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Right now, I’m thinking beyond that.”“Really. What are you thinking about?”She glanced at me. “Children. I’m thinking I’d like to have children.”“Oh.” I sat up, feeling faintly awkward.There was a reason why the prudish Vingin considered humans to be very promiscuous. It’s because we were. A few human males and females together in a room were almost certain to generate an orgy. Of course we needed to be sexually…open. Our ancestors were only a few hundreds of thousands when we encountered the Vingin. They needed to populate the four worlds the Vingin were kind enough to give us. The only way to do that was to loosen any strictures humans had on sex at the time and breed, breed, breed. The end result was what one would expect when a highly fertile species was allowed to do, well, one of the things it did best.In time, each human planet amassed a population approaching a billion. Now, it could be said that given our impressive population growth, excess promiscuity was no longer a necessity for humans. Wrong. There were three reasons why that was most definitely not the case. 1) millions of humans had died in the Tacherin War and it wasn’t over yet. We needed to replenish the ranks. 2) Old customs, old habits die hard. 3) The most important reason of all: children. There is nothing humans love and cherish more than children, for sentimental and practical reasons.Children are the hope for the continued existence of humanity. Children are our future. It was a matter of urgency that our ancestors conceived as many children as possible. That urgency was considerably less today, but a vestige of it was still present, magnifying our sexual instincts, stoking our little fears of collective extinction. And here I sat, next to the woman I wanted to be with more than any other, trying to think of some way to steer this discussion away from the topic of children.I knew many soldiers who had children. Kelte had five already. At this very moment I was sure he was vigorously working on his sixth, seventh and eighth. Lt. Jiran probably removed her contraceptive implant so she could embark on her second pregnancy.Tione hadn’t removed her implant. I suppose it was because I hadn’t removed mine. I leaned back, kissing her forehead. Then I stroked her braided mane as a way to disguise my guilty fidgeting. I couldn’t promise her children. Not that I didn’t want any. But I still envisioned a career for myself as a hipofran artist. Maybe I could still sire a brood and achieve my dream. Maybe children would be a distraction. I guess I didn’t really know why I felt the the way I did. What I knew for sure was that I wasn’t ready to be a father. “Someday,” I whispered, trying to inject conviction into my voice.Her eyes held mine for a minute or two.I saw disappointment in them, tinged with frustration.“Of course, Lev,” Tione acknowledged flatly. She turned over. “Someday.”
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Posted by Night Manager on August 22, 2008 at 3:00pm
WINTER GHOST P4We RunShe’s hurt, I say, but no one answers.She needs help, I say, but the door remains shut.I stare into the spy-hole and… I swear it’s staring right back at us. It’s a small dark hole in the old battered door set in the bowel of a nasty knot in the wood of the long twisted middle plank. A tiny ring a brass sits just inside the knurl, marking it as more than just a natural hole in the wood. But there’s no glass in it. The center is shadowy… gray… I can’t see anything beyond it.My breath shudders and I can feel my heart begin to hammer. Hot blood pulses up my arms and down my legs warming my hands and feet just enough… heating my skin just enough… to remind me how very cold I am. The hairs on my arms stand on end.The doorknob… it’s the kind that’s a handle with a thumb catch on top that you depress. The catch looks funny. It’s too low… almost like an invisible thumb is already depressing it.I glance back to the eyehole and then down again to the handle. Had it moved a little? I can’t tell… my heart is thumping behind my ears now.Something’s wrong. Why won’t… he… open the door?I take a slight step away.But… what about her? She lays quiet in my arms. This isn’t right. I know I should be trying to get her inside but I feel…… I feel like…I take another step, this one farther back and down a step. Snow slips up underneath my jeans, cuts through my socks and climbs up my ankles. The wind begins to whisper behind me, like the anticipation of a crowd about to roar. The falling snow begins to shift a bit, the thick fat little clumps spiraling downward sideways now.The eyehole continues to stare at me. Is it darker? I look away… I… don’t want him to know that I’ve noticed.NO! There’s nothing TOO notice. This is stupid. She’s cold… I’M cold; get her inside.I step up once again. I raise my hand to knock.The latch clicks.I run like hell.
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The Carl Brandon Society has a program in book advocacy: every ethnic heritage month we will be sending out a list of ten speculative fiction books, which are still in print, by authors of that heritage to bookstores and libraries so that they can feature these books and encourage readers to pick them up.The way we arrive at the list is by asking our members to submit nominations, and then by polling members to choose the top ten. Right now we're taking nominations of speculative fiction books by writers of Latino/Hispanic heritage (they don't have to be American) for Hispanic Heritage Month.To participate, you have to be on the Carl Brandon Society yahoogroup because we use the polling function there. Please go here and sign up: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/CarlBrandonOnce you're on the list, you can simply send your suggestions to the list. These should include author, title, and a brief (one sentence) description of the book.Once the deadline for nominations has passed, they compile the nominations into a poll on the yahoogroup website and you will have time to vote for the top ten.So now, to the nominations! You will have until FRIDAY, AUGUST 29, AT 6 PM to make nominations. Please be sure to:include author and titleinclude a brief description of the book: this list will be advocatingfor readers to buy the book and we will be using your description, soplease make it enticing!check and make sure the book is still in print.This list will be used by bookstores and libraries, so they have to be able to get the bookseasily.
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