Read Aquasynthesis Page 17


  An unrelated word came to him unexpectedly. Gravity. There was a lot of gravity there. A powerful flash of insight swept over him. It explains so much. The bulk of the stranger, his own leaden weakness, his imprisonment, even his difficulty thinking somehow fit with him being a prisoner on a high gravity world. Did they win the war? Have I told what I know? What have they done to my memory? What he could have told, what it was he knew, or who was warring, right then he couldn’t recall, but he did know that he had written about these things, about alien worlds, interstellar wars, and gravity. Especially about gravity.

  The big stranger took him through a white hall lined with blue doors, moving smoothly, as if floating. Beyond these doors, no doubt, are other prisoners. He heard someone shouting, a woman’s voice, terrified, screaming, “Help me! Help me!”

  As he moved, a jumble of images played through his mind, images of starships firing and aliens with pointed ears and humans struggling to survive against dark enemies and men with dark thoughts adapted to strange worlds, men with massive muscles striding smoothly through crushing waves of gravity. And he lay helpless against his own weight, moving forward, down a hall, going where he knew not.

  At the end of the hall was a fairly large room full of people seated at semicircular tables. The tables reminded him of the crescent moon. The moon. He could see the moon in his mind, brilliant-white and shiny. The memory was so clear and strong that its beauty dazzled him.

  He found himself sitting at the outside edge of a roundish table, wondering how he got there, his hands resting on its smooth surface. There were people next to him, all strangers, sitting on the edge of the moon, like him. On the inside curve of the table sat just one person, a woman in grayish clothing. She was petite, not muscular. Somehow that isn’t right, she shouldn’t be so small, he thought.

  And then, Wasn’t I thinking something, just a bit ago? Something having to do with size or weight or something? Or was it something to do with the moon?

  The woman set an item in front of him. She held a small object up to his mouth and spoke to him. He looked right at the object but didn’t understand until he smelled it that it was food. That is how they are doing it. That is how they have ruined my mind. It’s something in the food!

  “Get that poison away from me,” he growled. I will not eat.

  The woman spoke to him in a soft voice and smiled. She said he needed to keep up his strength, and that he understood, for he felt so weak. He ate some. She told him how well he was doing that day. He thought about the moon, about children, about stars, about writing, about starships perched on the verge of attack, about food, and about gravity. My thoughts are like a wind, gusting and changing directions.

  After some time, he didn’t know how long, the woman in front of him took away the thing she had set on the flat thing where his hands were. A large muscular man, larger than any he could ever remember seeing, came to him. He moved him toward a hallway. On the side of the hall, on the wall, he saw a sign as he moved in. “Alzheimer ward,” it said.

  I wonder what that means.

  As the burly orderly pushed him in his wheelchair down the hall with white walls and blue doors toward his room in the nursing home, he noticed how heavy he felt in the chair.

  “Gravity,” he muttered out loud. “There’s a lot of gravity here.”

  ~}~~~{~

  A wave destroyed the ice and washed the pieces away.

  Tok broke his silence. “Hmph. If you’re not happy with the world, invent your own. That works.”

  “And if that person can’t help himself?” Gizile asked.

  “Can’t is true for some…but what if they won’t?”

  “If a person has the ability to change a world they are unhappy with, then they should do so. Not pretend that it is what it is not.”

  Tok just grunted, but Gizile had the feeling the grunt meant more than she perceived, and that he was pleased with her answer. They fell silent once more as another wave broke.

  ~}~~~{~

  The Field Trip—P. A. Baines

  Space holds its breath.

  A spark glimmering like a diamond while, all around it, the stars twist and distort.

  If sound could travel through space it would be a deafening shriek of tearing metal, the pounding of a million drums, a billion nails drawn down a blackboard, or a trillion worlds colliding.

  Mercifully, there is no sound.

  Then a craft, small and shiny as a brilliant drop of water, hovers as if it has always been there. Its two occupants sit for a moment, trapped in the folds of space and time, caught in a freeze-frame of wide-eyed surprise.

  The clock on the dashboard hesitates then carefully, slowly, almost painfully, squeezes itself onto the next pulse like glue through a tube.

  The taller of the two occupants blinks. He still has a wide-eyed look etched on his face. This may be due to shock or it may be his normal expression. It is hard to tell.

  His smaller companion finishes scratching his nose, an act he started a billion light years away. By the time evidence of this event reaches their home planet at normal light speeds there will be no one there to witness it. Indeed, there will be no planet, although this does not bother him in the slightest, mainly because he does not understand it. He would not understand the idea of folding space if it were explained to him half a dozen times very slowly using diagrams and the latest in multimedia. Which it was.

  His finger hovers close to his nasal cavity but he remembers that he is not alone.

  The taller points through the windscreen.

  A planet. A blue orb with swirls of white, punctuated by brown patches of land surrounded by water.

  “Earth.”

  The smaller stares, his nasal cavity forgotten, his finger now extended towards the jewel floating before them.

  “Earth.”

  The taller taps a button on the console. Text fills the screen.

  A dismembered voice starts the lesson in the slow, measured tones of a teacher who understands the vast limitations of his students.

  Spoob lunanga Stoonasweswe…

  (translated)

  This is planet Stoonasweswe. The inhabitants call it Earth. It is in the Doonago galaxy, known locally as the Milky Way. It is the third planet from their star called the Sun. Their system consists of thirteen planets, four of which they have not yet discovered. Circumference at the equator is 24,901.55 miles. Diameter at the equator is 7,926.28 miles. Average distance from Earth to the Sun is 93,020,000 miles. They have one satellite they call The Moon. Highest point on the Earth’s crust is the volcano Chimborazo in Ecuador at 20,561 feet above sea level. Lowest point on the Earth’s crust is Challenger Deep, Mariana Trench in the Western Pacific Ocean at 35,840 feet below sea level. Dominant species is humanoid, known as homo sapiens.

  A picture of a naked human male appears on the screen. The two recoil in disgust. The taller spills some of his drink on the control panel. There is a spark and a hiss. The picture on the screen judders, then settles.

  Humans are rated the fourteenth most intelligent species on the planet but they are by far the most aggressive. The most intelligent species is the sloth, although they lack the energy to do anything useful. Next are elephants, dolphins, whales, crows, cats and certain molluscs. Humans have divided the planet into one hundred and ninety-five countries, apparently at random. A number of these countries are in dispute. Humans enjoy watching television, eating, fighting, singing, and sleeping. The average human sleeps for eight hours a day, which explains why they have yet to understand such simple concepts as how the universe began.

  The two snicker. The smaller says “poonikuk” which roughly translates as “idiots”. The screen judders again. Text moves shakily up and down for a moment, and stops.

  Humans are, however, in spite of their obvious stupidity, capable of amazing feats. Their art is known throughout the universe for its naive charm. Their music, particularly, soul, is enjoyed as far away as Sque on the outer edge o
f the universe where James Brown is considered something of a deity.

  Perhaps their greatest achievement, however, is finding a solution to the impending ice age that strikes their planet every twenty thousand years. By spewing carbon dioxide into the atmosphere they have raised the temperature just enough to avoid certain doom. Many suggest that this was sheer coincidence and that humans had no idea of the approaching catastrophe, but few believe that any species can be that ignorant. This ends the lesson on Earth.

  The text on the screen vanishes. The two blink.

  Another line appears. It judders twice. Words flash on and off and on again. They both read the line very carefully, mouthing the words. The taller looks to the smaller who blinks back at him. The taller shrugs and presses a small red button on the corner of the console.

  In front of the craft a green light appears. It is as bright as a small star. It spins, slowly at first, then faster and faster until it is a blinding blur. Space holds its breath for the second time that day. The two blink. The light explodes with furious energy as it flies towards the earth like a bullet. The two gasp.

  The light fades from view. A moment later there is a silence inside the silence. They can hear nothing, but even that seems to have gone. They hold their breath.

  The planet in front of them, Earth, Stoonasweswe, the beautiful blue planet with wispy streaks of water vapour…

  Shatters.

  Like a huge ball of the most delicate glass tapped by a hammer, it instantly turns into countless tiny fragments, each no bigger than a grape.

  The two turn to each other with wide eyes.

  “Ebooooola.”

  (“Cooool”).

  The screen judders again. The sentence flashes off and on. Words appear and disappear. They both lean forward and read. It is the same sentence as before, only it isn’t. The first time they read it, it said:

  Remember: observe not, destroy.

  This time the comma has moved. This time it says:

  Remember: observe, not destroy.

  They look at each other again and blink.

  “Oosha.”

  (“Oops”).

  ~}~~~{~

  Gizile shook her head. “All those people…” She glanced at her teacher. “Are these visions real? Do they tell of actual events?”

  He laughed, but then became grave as he stared into the pool. “I do not know if they are real. But they are truth to the watcher. They are lessons.”

  Gizile turned back to the pool and watched the last of the shattered ice wash away. “Are these visions truth for me then?”

  He was silent a moment as the next wave washed in. “They are what you must learn.”

  The water crackled as it froze again. “And what was I to learn from watching a world destroyed?”

  He grunted and shook his head. “Child, child.”

  She took a deep breath and watched the next vision come into focus. What she saw took her breath away. A strange beast…attacking a man.

  ~}~~~{~

  Your Average Ordinary Alien—Adam Graham

  The Malnarian sank its teeth into the human’s well-tanned back. Blood spurted all over the purple rocks and green sand. An energy beam zapped the Malnarian in the back. It turned. Yornac stood in his priestly robe. “Leave him alone in the name of peace!”

  Kirk leaned forward in his ice blue chair. Enough with the talk, Yornac. Zap that bad boy.

  The Malnarian dropped the human and approached Yornac.

  Yornac raised his hands. “You leave me no choice. By the power of the seven moons of Galvark, you will die.”

  The Malnarian shrieked as its body decomposed. Yornac ran towards the human. “No, please, by all that is—”

  An Earth woman about a meter and a half tall and of medium build blocked Kirk’s view. The spiky-haired vixen hit a button and the HD plasma television went black.

  Recognition hit Kirk. He glared up at Terry. “What are you doing, woman? I need to find out what happened with Yornac.”

  Terry rolled her eyes. “Relax. You Tivoed it.” She took a breath. “Kirk, I don’t know how to say this. So I guess I’ll just—I’m leaving.” Tears sparkled in her eyes.

  Oh no. His sustenance was being cut off. And worse, who would keep his bed warm on cold winter nights?

  He stood and put his arms around her. “Baby, I’m sorry. I know it’s been a bit of a cold spell since I got laid off.”

  Terry shook him off. “It’s been four years since you were laid off, and all you’ve done is live off me. You’ve spent all your time and money at sci-fi conventions. Even if you looked for a job, you couldn’t find one after you changed your name.”

  Kirk grunted, plopping on the ice blue couch. She didn’t think he was a loser back when he was earning $80,000 a year working for a dot com. She’d loved riding in his BMW and sitting in the hot tub of his plush apartment. Back then, it was all “you’re so funny and smart.” Now, after a short time out of work, she thought he was a bum. “Look, taking the name Kirk Picard Skywalker won’t stop anyone from hiring me. Come on, something’s changed.”

  Terry paced past Kirk’s collection of Star Wars posters. “It’s the church I’m going to.”

  Kirk jumped up. “I knew it! Those religious fanatics have nothing better to do than disrupt our happy home.”

  Terry bit her lip. “You said you were going to marry me when you moved in.”

  “I will. Just give me more time. A former coworker in Japan e-mailed me a prospect.”

  “Your old coworkers in Japan are twenty-something losers who stay in their pajamas all day and live in their parents’ basements.”

  Kirk slammed his hand on his custom-made Stargate SG-1 coffee table. “Their garages!”

  Terry rolled her eyes.

  Kirk heaved a sigh. “Look, why believe this tripe about living in sin? All it has brought the world is suffering. When people let go of religion and embrace rationality, mankind will reach the stars and become gods.”

  Terry gave Kirk a peck on the cheek, like she might give her brother. She ran her hand across his uniform shirt, touching the Star Fleet logo. “Kirk, that’s a nice story, but it’s not true. I can’t live like this anymore. I’ve got to go.” Terry strode toward the door.

  What would he do without real human contact? Sure, she’d been the ice princess for the past few months, thanks to the Church, but as long as she stayed, he had a shot. He glanced up at the model UFO hanging from the ceiling “The Bible and science fiction don’t have to be contradictory. Ezekiel saw a UFO, and do you really think Jonah was swallowed by a whale? No, classic case of deep-sea alien abduction.”

  Terry opened the door, but turned around. “I’m not even to that part of the Bible yet. Goodbye.”

  “But wait!” Kirk spied the Star Wars ships and a Klingon bird of prey hanging above the television. “You’re my Princess Leia! I’m a Klingon and you’re a female Klingon.”

  Terry closed the door behind her. Kirk plopped on the couch. How was he going to pay the rent? This must be why she’d had him re-sign the lease in his name alone last month. Eight hundred dollars in five weeks. How was he going to come up with that?

  He looked up at the life-sized, autographed Luke Skywalker action figure standing by the closet. Selling it would pay the rent. No, that would be joining the Dark Side.

  Kirk cried, “I’ll never join you!”

  If he sold his collection, what would he tell the guys over at the Sci-Fi message boards? How could he live it down?

  Did they have enough left on the credit card to pay the rent? Oh great—that ungrateful wench had probably closed the credit card, too.

  Maybe he could get a job. McDonald’s was hiring. They were always hiring. But no, he couldn’t work at McDonald’s. That would debase him. He hadn’t gotten a computer science degree to flip burgers. Still, a guy had to eat, until They came.

  He looked out the window. A star streaked through the night sky. It was silly to wish upon a star, but
he’d try it one more time. “Star light, star bright, I have an odd wish for you tonight. An ultra-fundamentalist like Terry wouldn’t understand, but I want to be abducted by aliens.”

  He didn’t want brought back, either. They had to let him join Them. He looked at his bulging belly. Hopefully, They weren’t as strict about weight as the Air Force.

  ~}~~~{~

  Kirk’s eyelids fluttered. He lay on a cool metal table with his arms strapped down and a soft metal alien headband on his forehead. Yes! This is more like it.

  A green humanoid alien with an oversized, bald head faced the wall. He placed his six-fingered hands on the hips of his dark blue uniform.

  The ceiling glowed pure white. A gray steel door reflected the gleaming room behind Kirk. A metal box on the back wall had flashing diodes blinking. Kirk grinned. “Woo-hoo!”

  The alien turned around and sighed. His round, orange eyes focused on Kirk. “Accursed fecal matter. The anesthetic should have lasted two yorlans longer.”

  Kirk gasped. “You speak English?”

  “Of course. We have Coca-Cola, too, and we have to learn English to deal with the Americans. They’re taking over the universe.”

  So that was what the government was hiding. Kirk arched his eyebrow. “Really?”

  The alien tilted back his head and chortled. “Humans are so gullible. The device around your head allows you to understand any spoken language.”

  “I could’ve used this in French class. Now what?”

  “With most humans who wake up, I have to sedate them and do a memory wipe. But, with you, it won’t be necessary.”

  Kirk smiled. “You see in me a kindred spirit with whom you can share the secrets of the universe? Cool.”

  “No. I saw your apartment. No one would believe you.”

  “Oh.” Kirk paused. “So how far do you live from here?”

  “About twenty Earth meters.”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, you mean how far is my home world? It is located in the Marchovias Galaxy, millions of light years from here.”