Table of Contents
Title
Title Information
Copyright Acknowledgements
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Cost Benefit Analysis, Cathy Byant
Smilers, Carolyn M. Chang
Cracks in the Concrete, Frank Roger
System Error, Jay Faulkner
Michael’s Gate, Leslie J. Anderson
First Head, H.S. Donnelly
Guardian, H. David Blalock
Hope Unknown, Jason Campagna
Under a Pomegranate Sky, Mandi M. Lynch
Seventh Degree Herika R. Raymer
The Job Hunter, Shaun Avery
The Ultimate Sale, Deedee Davies
The Bird Below Ground, S.C. Langgle
The Choosing, Michael O’Connor
Tomorrow’s Children, Delphine Boswell
Your Comfort is Important to Us, Tanith Korravai
Useless, Ellen Brock
Author Bios
About the Editor
See more from SSP
H. David Blalock’s Angelkiller Triad
Stephen Zimmer’s Rising Dawn Saga
PERFECT FLAW
EDITED BY
ROBIN BLANKENSHIP
Copyright © 2013 by Robin Blankenship
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be copied or transmitted in any form, electronic or otherwise, without express written consent of the publisher or author.
Cover art and design: Enggar Adirasa
Cover art in this book copyright © 2013 Enggar Adirasa & Seventh Star Press, LLC.
Published by Seventh Star Press, LLC.
ISBN Number: 978-1-937929-13-8
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013934970
Seventh Star Press
www.seventhstarpress.com
[email protected]
Publisher’s Note:
Perfect Flaw is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are the product of the author’s imagination, used in fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual persons, places, locales, events, etc. are purely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
Copyright Acknowledgements
Cathy Bryant “Cost Benefit Analysis” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Frank Roger “Cracks in the Concrete” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Jay Faulkner “System Error” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
H. David Blalock “Guardian” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Jason Campagna “Hope Unknown” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Mandi M. Lynch “Under a Pomegranate Sky” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Leslie J. Anderson “Michael’s Gate” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Carolyn M. Chang “Smilers” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Herika R. Raymer “Seventh Degree” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Shaun Avery “The Job Hunter” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Deedee Davies “The Ultimate Sale” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
S.C. Langgle “The Bird Below Ground” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Michael O’ Connor “The Choosing” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Delphine Boswell “Tomorrow’s Children” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Tanith Korravai “Your Comfort is Important to Us” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
Ellen Brock “Useless” (c) 2013 by author. Printed with permission of the author.
DEDICATION
For Andrew, through ups and downs and twists and turns, who always ends up on the other side still holding my hand.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
If you had asked me two years ago if I would be editing an anthology I would have thought you were crazy, but one thing I have learned in the last two years is life is a wild ride, and you can always make your way with a little help, a strong will and a lot of luck.
Thank you Christian and Beatrix Grace for putting up with a scatter brained, occasionally loony mom.
To the rest of my family, by blood, by chance and by choice. My very own support team. Mom, Dad, James, Mary, David, Elinor, John, Glenna, Lela, Kate, Justin, Mike, Trahnel, Noah, Calla, Dorothy, Debbie, Angel, Beth, Pat, Kim, Stephen, Melissa, Aimee, Alicia, Dan and all the amazing people in my life.
I want to thank my friend, Stephen Zimmer, who has been a constant support personally and professionally. He is one of those rare people who is a natural encourager and I know I would not be where I am today without him. I am thankful every day for his friendship.
COST BENEFIT ANALYSIS
BY CATHY BRYANT
There was only about a fifty per cent chance that I’d die. I’d followed all the suit protocols, found the safest place possible under the circumstances and done everything that the survival lessons teach you to do.
Well, OK, I shouldn’t have been out there in the first place, but you’ll understand why when I tell you that I’d just found eight k-weights of solaz stones just beyond the Rim. What was I supposed to do, leave them to the night winds because it was nearly time for city lockup? Yes, Mum and Dad would worry. I hadn’t been an adult (scavenger class, two years early) very long, being just thirteen, but this was an opportunity I just couldn’t let slip.
Eight k-weights! One k would pay three months’ rent on our unit. Eight could do so many things...I ran the stones through my hands, marvelling at their muddy unimpressiveness. When polished they’d look like liquid sunshine and be harder than diamonds. They were rare this close to the city, and I’d never heard of a haul this size in this third at all, never mind just beyond the Rim. Mum earned about this much in two years; Dad, slightly less since his injury in the mine. We could all go and...we could...
I stopped daydreaming as a faint hiss sounded from the east. The winds were on their way, and if I carried on like this then I’d never see another day to dream in. I packed up the stones as quickly as I could, eyes nervously scanning the wastes while I worked.
I was looking for blue dust. Years before, Uncle Res had given me makeshift survival lessons. All solaz workers used to get a full survival programme courtesy of the Company, but they’d long been cut from the budget. People are cheap and plentiful on Fellen’s Moon, and the laws are company-made and few. Someone worked out that it was cheaper to replace us than to pay for the classes, so that was that. But we taught each other what we knew. Uncle Res, who was only vaguely related to us, left his living tube daily to make sure I was taught a whole heap of stuff.
“Mina - don’t get caught outside the city after lock-up,” he said, and then repeated it very slowly, staring into my eyes.
I nodded. I got it.
“But if you do, then wait until the pre-wind breezes start, and then look for lines of blue dust. You’ll hear the breezes - “ he made a hissing noise which turned out to be spot on “ - before you really feel them, and you’ll see the dust in the direction of the sound. Get it?”
I got it, nodding emphatically. He continued.
“That blue dust is elikium, and it comes from beneath the surface. If you see it then there are usually holes and crater
s about. You get to that elikium dust and find yourself a hole to hide out in. Don’t fall in it - “
He grinned, and I grinned back.
“ - just find one you fit in, if you can, with your head below the surface but not too much space round you. When the winds start that hole will fill up, and you’ll be thrown around a fair bit, but at least you won’t be blown into some rocks and killed. If your suit and your nerve both hold, then you have a good chance.”
Which is why I was looking for blue dust as I packed the stones, and blessing Uncle Res in my head, and trying to keep my nerve.
Just as the hissing breeze was starting to frighten me I saw a thin bluish trail, like smoke. I raced towards it, then remembered about falling in holes and slowed down.
The first hole was tiny. The second was a cavern. The wind began to shriek, and dust and pebbles began to fly. I whimpered, I know I did. But the third hole fitted me like an extension of my suit. There was even a half-seat I could perch on inside, safely if not entirely comfortably.
So I lowered myself gingerly into the hole, and waited.
Dust poured into the hole. Being buried in the sandy debris and suit failure were the two most likely causes of death in this situation. Or losing my mind and doing something dumb. The suit blocked some of the sound and filtered harmful substances from what air there was, but I still felt deafened and stifled. I tried not to move, though it was painfully tempting to reach my arms up and check that I wasn’t submerged in deep sand. But any piece of debris, flying at the speed of that wind, could have ripped through both my suit and the arm within it.
So I concentrated my mind on the stones and the joy they would bring. Living upgrade, and suit upgrades so that I could scavenge further afield. Better food and medicine to make us healthy. A chance to learn more, go somewhere else, even....the wind howled in frustration, wanting to tear me apart, but I sat it out with just my dreams for company.
***
I must have slept, though I don’t remember dropping off. I came to with a jolt, my shoulders and neck aching with my cramped position, and I realised that I had gone deaf. The storm must have blown out my eardrums.
No! I would have felt the storm vibrating through the rock and felt the shifting of sand. I couldn’t hear any sound because the storm was over and there was nothing to hear.
With some difficulty, a weight of dirt on my head, I looked up and saw nothing but more dirt. I raised my arms at last - and how good that felt. It felt even better when they broke through a fine layer above me, no threat at all. Shaking a little I climbed out of my refuge, and slowly made my way home.
Beeler was on gate duty - a company man, but one of the rare decent ones. When he saw me his face split into a grin.
“Mina! Good to see you! I heard you were lost.”
“Sorry. I went too far last night.”
“In more ways than one! Your folks’ll skin you alive when they get hold of you! Well, after they quit hugging you, I guess. They came down here and made me check the records three times to see if you’d come in while I was on a break.”
I smiled shamefacedly back at him.
“Oh go on,” he said, and waved me in without making me fill in any official documents. “Go and make your family happy.”
“Oh I will! Thanks!” I said. I will! I really will! I added mentally, grinning.
At the unit no one heard me let myself in, mainly because the babies were screaming. Merlys and Aled were as cute as buttons when they slept, but the rest of the time they spent bawling, eating, puking or filling their pants. And with twins, everything comes in stereo.
Mum and Dad had one each in first room, and were rocking them and singing to them in a vain attempt to shut them up. All four faces were creased and tired.
“Hey,” I said during a brief break while the twins caught their breath for another round.
Mum and Dad spun towards me. Joy lit up their faces for a moment.
“Mina!” cried Dad. “Oh, thank the stars.”
I was already unloading my pack onto the table, as I knew what the next line would be.
“Where have you been? What were you thinking? We’ve been worried out of our - OH!”
The predictable script was cut short as the stones spilled out in a great heap, heavy and unlovely.
Mum and Dad gazed drunkenly, and by way of miracles both twins shut up.
“I was just over the edge of the Rim, with just time to get back, when I spotted these. It took a while to get them all, but I thought it was worth the risk. I spent the night in an elikium hole. My suit might need an overhaul.”
I stopped. Mum had nodded, but I didn’t think that either was really listening to me.
“Eight k-weights according to my pack-scale,” I added.
They heard that all right, and looked at me, and then back at the stones. And then they both smiled and cried and hugged me, and I smiled and cried and hugged them and the twins, who gurgled and dimpled sweetly, and it was one of the best moments of my life.
“Ah damn it, time for work,” said Dad. He looked at the stones. “We’ll decide tonight what to do with these.”
Mum nodded agreement.
They kissed me, put the twins in their care spaces (basic food, lullabies and two diaper changes - the best package we could afford, but at least safe) and left, holding the bread pieces that they’d have for lunch. Stale bread because it was cheaper.
Fortunately scavengers make their own hours. I crawled on to my bunk in second room and was asleep in a moment.
I woke from a dream of being suffocated and having to pay for it. Hands were pushing grit into my mouth and taking money away from me. I was dying and going broke, and I opened my mouth to scream - and woke to find that the twins, maybe having the same dream, had beaten me to it and were screaming their heads off. There was nothing wrong; screaming is just what one-year-olds do.
I pulled myself up, bones creaking and muscles tweaking my nerve endings. After drinking a lot of water I washed myself all over at the sink. We had hot water three days a week, and it felt wonderfully luxurious as I soaped myself with a steaming sponge. I washed my hair and combed it until every last bit of dust, dirt or sweat was gone.
I think I was trying to be ceremonial - to mark this time, and make the day special in some way, with some sort of ritual. I could hardly look at the stones. They were too precious, and now that I was safely home my adventure beyond the Rim was freaking me out a little. I would never forget the sound of that wind - and if I hadn’t found that hole...
I was shaking with either delayed shock or hunger or both, and ate some porridge and some bread. Soon I felt better, and played with the twins for a while.
“Mum. Dad. Mina,” I said to them. “Come on, sweets. You can do it! Say Mum - Dad - Mina.”
“Uh- ad,” said Merlys.
“Ee-ya,” said Aled.
I kissed them.
After dark my parents arrived home and we had broth. Then we all looked at the stones, which were still on the table, though I had pushed them out of the way of the twins in case they ate them.
Mum smiled at me.
“This takes all our worries away, Mina. I’m so proud of you.”
“Yes, rent for years, plus the rent on the twins’ care units, plus our tax. We can have a little treat each too,” beamed Dad.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but I phrased my question carefully and politely.
“Mum - Dad - aren’t we going to try to make things better at all? To upgrade? Two k-weights would buy me an elite suit, and I could stay out for days at a time beyond the Rim. You know how good I am at spotting the solaz. With a wider range I could get so much more, and we could live so much better...”
I trailed off as I saw them swap glances and then look at me seriously.
“Mina dear,” said Dad, “Yo
u do understand that this find is a one-off, don’t you? A better suit wouldn’t get you more troves like this.”
“I know! But you know that the elites get much more than we basics do. If I could go further for longer then I could get more stones, and we could have better lives, long-term.”
Again they looked at each other and found confirmation there.
“Mina, there are more important things than a new suit. Do you know how hard we work? And how many accidents happen in the mine? As it is we have no security. We’re always one broken leg away from losing this place and living with the cast-offs.”
I thought of the cast-offs - beggars, buskers, thieves, drunks, addicts, prostitutes. The desperate, in other words. Few of them lasted more than a winter or two; the city kept out most of the killing winds, but not much cold.
“So we go on as we are?” I asked, my mouth dry.
“Yes, but with a wonderful safety net, thanks to you,” said my mother, holding my hands in hers and stroking them gently.
“So we go on as we are, in joyless drudgery,” I said, and took my hands away.
“Joyless,” said my father coldly. “Really? You feel no joy in our lives together? No joy with your mother and me, or the twins?”
“When we see each other in the brief exhausted intervals between work and sleep, maybe,” I snapped, “Though we’re usually too tired and hungry for much joy, aren’t we?”
“That’s enough!” said Mum. “We’re not getting the suit, and that’s final. You may be classed as an adult in terms of being fit for scavenging work, but you haven’t earned your fiscal and judicial rights yet. We decide money matters until you do, so there’s no point in arguing any more.”
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