The Ultimate Collection of Science & Speculative Fiction Short Stories (Short SSF Stories Book 5)

by Nicholas C. Rossis

  Susan threw me a worried glance. “Can you even drive? You’ve had a lot to drink.”

  “I’m fine.” No, it couldn’t have been me. Could it?

  We pulled up at the hospital and I raced out of the car and into a narrow corridor. “Where is he?” I cried out to a sleepy nurse behind a glass pane.

  “Excuse me?”

  My wife pushed me to the side. “We’re looking for Mr. Thomas. They brought him in with food poisoning.” I ran my fingers through my hair, touching more scalp than hair. I have to tell her.

  “Susan, there’s something—”

  She threw me a distraught look. “Everything will be fine.” She grabbed my hand and tugged. “This way.” We hurried down a corridor and into an elevator. I tapped my foot, infuriated at the slow ride. My urge to share my dream with her had left me as suddenly as it had appeared. She’ll just think I’m crazy. Four floors up, we heard a soft ding and the doors slid open.

  Still holding my hand, she led me forward and into a barely-lit room. On a bed lay my brother. His wife was slumped on a chair next to him. She lifted her head when we entered. “Oh, hi, Susan!”

  “Hi, Jill. How is he?” Her voice betrayed her worry.

  “The doctors pumped his stomach. Whatever it was he drank, it was so acidic that it burned his throat on both the way down and up.”

  “How… how is that even possible?” I stammered.

  She looked at me as she had just realized I was standing there. “No idea. He was fine when we went to bed. I swear, I did nothing.” She sank her head into her palms and cried softly, while my wife sat down next to her and took her in her arms. Every now and then, she stole anxious looks at the still body on the bed.

  Not you. Me.

  The commotion caused my brother to open his eyes. His soft gaze wandered from the two women to me. When it reached my eyes, his face hardened. “What was in the coffee?” he rasped.

  My mouth gaped. “I… What…”

  His wife shot up and grabbed his hand. “The doctors said you shouldn’t speak, darling. Try not to speak.”

  “The coffee,” he said, his eyes dripping malice. “He put something in it.”

  “You didn’t have any coffee last night, darling. You said it was too late. You had some scotch after dinner. Remember?”

  His face scrunched up in puzzlement. “It’s the drugs,” his wife whispered. “He’s confused.”

  I nodded, trying to ignore the thick drops of sweat trickling down my back. My brother closed his eyes and sank his head into the pillow with a soft sigh. Guilt overcame me. I staggered out of the room, holding onto the smooth wall for support. I replayed the dream in my head over and over again, struggling to make sense of it all.

  “The doctor said he’ll be fine.”

  I spun around and almost bumped into Susan. I forced a smile on my face. “Good.”

  She gave me a questioning look. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  You don’t look too good yourself. “Just worried,” I lied. Or perhaps it wasn’t a lie. I was worried, just not about him.

  She took me in her arms. “You’re a good brother.”

  “Huh?”

  “You act like you hate him, but when push comes to shove, you’re there for him.” She touched my cheek with gentle fingers. “I mean, look at how upset you are.”

  I noticed her ashen face as she said this. We both are. With a sigh, I took her hand and we made a beeline to the car. As soon as we returned home, I wasted no time going back to bed. Surprisingly enough, it did not take me long to fall asleep again. The minute my eyelids closed, I found myself inside the beach house again. With no one around, I looked around at my leisure. He had redone the fireplace as well. I traced the fine carvings on the Cipollino marble, admiring the smooth texture.

  “I know it was you.”

  I jumped out of my skin when I heard my brother’s voice behind me. I swirled around to face him. His face looked taut, with deep black circles under his sunken eyes. I forced a smile on my lips. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  “You bastard! You were here, then you gave me coffee. What did you put inside?”

  “We’re twins, remember? If I’m a bastard, so are you.” I took a step back.

  He came closer, raising his clenched fists. “You poisoned me, didn’t you?”

  “That’s cold, bro. Real cold.” I took another step back and my leg stumbled on something. A fire iron clanged onto the floor. I leaned down and grasped it, then shot back up, holding it in front of me. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Why not?” A wide, contemptuous grin appeared on his face. “This is my house. You’re intruding.”

  Maybe if he hadn’t had that stupid grin, I would not have done what I did. But all I could think about was wiping it off his face. I raised the iron and bashed his head with it. “My house,” I bellowed as I pounded him with it. I ignored his scream of pain. “My girlfriend. My car. My wife. Mine! Mine!” With every word, I cracked the iron to his head.

  I watched him on the floor. His eyes betrayed his surprise, but he no longer moved. Blood pooled under his head. I watched the pool grow, breathless.

  From afar, the ringing resumed.

  Next thing I remember, I was standing in the same hospital elevator with my wife. My whole body still shook with adrenaline as I darted into his room. My brother still lay on the bed, only now thick gauze covered the top of his head. A small part of it, wide as a quarter, was a deep red. Right where I hit him. His wife was crying softly next to him.

  My wife ran towards Jill. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. Some sort of seizure. The doctors said he’s lucky to be alive.”

  “He bled inside his head, didn’t he?” My voice sounded far away, as if the words belonged to someone else.

  Jill threw me a surprised glance. “Yes, they called it a subdural hematoma.” She wiped tears from her eyes with a crumbled tissue. “How did you know?”

  I nodded towards the gauze. “I saw they opened up his skull to relieve the pressure.” The whole situation felt unreal, like a nightmare. I kept expecting to wake up—only I could not. “How did it happen? Did he hit his head somewhere?”

  “No! He just screamed. I could not wake him up.” Her tears started flowing more freely now. “The doctors said he could have died,” she said between loud wails.

  I gave her shoulder a squeeze. “We’re here now. Whatever you need, just let us know.”

  A pang of guilt shot through my heart when she reached and grabbed my hand. “Thank you.”

  It was almost dawn by the time we left. We said nothing on the way home. When we arrived, my wife opened the door to climb out of the car, then paused. “What a night.” A faint smile broke through her lips. “But I’m proud of you.”

  I wanted to cackle and cry and scream—all at the same time. Instead, I pushed my lips into an exhausted smile. “Let’s try and get some rest, shall we?”

  “Now?” She nodded towards the sky. In the east, the first rays of the sun chased away the night, forming deep pink and purple bands. “I don’t think I can sleep.”

  “I’m beat.” I wasn’t lying. My limbs felt leaden. Mixed feelings filled me; feelings I could not admit even to myself. Every now and then, guilt and sorrow strangled the glee, then the joy returned. It all numbed my thoughts. I just wanted to crawl under the duvet and forget this night ever happened. Pretend that I had not almost killed my brother.

  But how could it be? How could I be responsible for his condition? I knew it was a mistake. I could not have hurt him. Part of me wanted to, for sure. But I was no monster. And even if I were, how? It was impossible. It was divine justice; had to be. He was being punished for everything he had stolen from me over all these years.

  “I’ll call the office and let them know you won’t be going in today. You just stay in bed and get some rest.”

  “Thank you.” I loved it when she took care of me like that. It made
me feel warm; protected.

  To be honest, I did not expect to fall asleep. I thought I would toss and turn for an hour or two, then get up. Instead, I sank almost immediately into a deep slumber. And I had another dream. As before, the setting was the beach house’s living room. The fire iron was tossed to the floor in front of the fireplace, next to a large crimson pool. Countless dots stained the white floorboards and the marble. I leaned closer and dabbed a finger into the scarlet pool. Its edges had turned a rusty brown; the color of caked blood. The center was still bright red. And wet.

  A deep, rumbling thunder warned me of an impending storm. I left the quiet of the house to step out onto the verandah. It overlooked a squally sea that crashed against the cliffs below. A gust of wind streamed over me, whipping my face with tiny droplets. Moments later, heavy clouds released sheets of rain. Churning winds ripped across the rocks, howling through the rocky crevices. And yet, I did not move. Even when I saw him.

  He approached me from the sea, walking through the air, as if the storm itself was bearing him. My darling brother. His eyes were gleaming like ambers made of fire. When he spotted me, he sped up. There was no qualm in his stride; no hesitation. Only blistering determination. When he approached, he lunged at me without warning. I grabbed his shirt. Using his momentum, I twirled him around, then released him. He crashed against the wall. Screaming with fury, he came at me once more. I tried to grab him again, but he ducked under my hands. His arms clenched around my waist. His shoulder knocked the wind out from my lungs. We crashed down the stairs.

  I cried out in frustration and smacked his head with my fists. He refused to let go, pushing me farther down the narrow path that led through the gardens and to the sea. I managed to get my arms under his and thrust upwards. This finally broke his grip on me. We circled each other, both breathless. Our movement brought us closer to the fence. He swiped his arm to punch my face. I bent my body backwards. His fist split the air above me. Without pausing, he swirled around, lowering his body at the same time. He continued his spinning motion, this time aiming at my legs. I dropped and rolled to my side, jumping back on my feet almost immediately.

  We glared at each other for a moment. The rain now fell in torrents. “That’s the best you can do?” I taunted him. Bolts of lightning flashed in the sky.

  “I hate you!” he screamed.

  “You stole everything from me!” I yelled back at him. Thunder boomed all around us.

  He smirked. “Including your wife. But you did nothing. You know why? ‘Cause you’re a loser. You’ll always be a loser.”

  “No!” I lunged at him. He tried to sidestep me, but I was faster. We crashed against the wooden fence and dropped on the ground behind it, close to the cliff’s edge. I raised myself to my feet and glared at him. “You’ve always taken everything from me. No more. I’ll kill you.”

  “No, little brother. I’ll kill you.”

  We both screamed and charged each other at the same time. Our hands clutched each other’s throats. We squeezed the life out of each other, too caught up in our rage to notice that our thrashing about had brought us right to the edge. We continued strangling each other even as we dropped into the sea, where sharp rocks shred our bodies apart.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Jill said. “You know, I always thought they hated each other.”

  Susan reached over and gave her hand a light squeeze. “So did I.” They shared an awkward smile, stifling their tears. In front of them, people laid wreath upon wreath in front of two identical mahogany caskets. “But for them to die like that, at the very same time… the very same night… What could that mean?”

  “That they loved each other very much. So much so, that they couldn’t bear the thought of living without one another.” Jill blew her nose softly into a tissue. “What else could it possibly mean?”

  Infinite Waters

  She broke contact with the sphere and sank back into her chair, panting. “That was… intense.”

  “Are you sure you want to continue?”

  She smacked her lips. “Is there any water?”

  I reached over to a small carafe and filled her a glass. She emptied it in three large gulps, then plonked it on the table with a satisfied ah!

  “I’m ready. Show me more.”

  I pressed my lips together and tapped the table with my fingers.

  She placed her hand on mine, silencing the motion. “Please?”

  What’s in a Name?

  “That’s an unusual name for a ship.”

  The man facing me across the table pulled the fat cigar from his lips, leaving it to simmer inside a round ashtray. Smoking is strictly prohibited on a spaceship, but if you are the ship’s owner I guess normal rules do not apply. His thick brows met in the middle, as if pondering my words. Why, I could not fathom —surely, this was the single most usual comment he heard? His jowls quivered as he pushed his chair away to stand up. Hoisting his trousers up, he adjusted his lifejacket and grimaced, as if in pain.

  “It was a bet.” With a dismissive wave of his hand, he motioned me to follow him. “A stupid bet.” He sighed as he ran his fingers through thinning hair. “I lost.”

  That much is obvious. “Are we going somewhere?” I asked politely and stood up. My recorder floated from the table to hover above us.

  “I just want to show you around. I assume your viewers will want to know about the ship?”

  I nodded my thanks. We weaved our way out of the smoke room and into the promenade deck. Reserved for the first-class passengers, this was not my usual kind of accommodations. My initial enthusiasm at finding out I had been sent on an assignment that allowed me to spend a week on a cruise around the moon had waned as soon as I heard the details. The lush accommodations, however, made me rethink my initial apprehension.

  The ship owner led me into the wide corridor crossing the deck. I snuck a look into a gym room, filled with ripped people in sweatpants admiring their visage in full-wall mirrors. Strangely enough, the lifejackets did not seem to bother them. A smiling blonde at the reception was handing a towel and a lifejacket to a man dressed from top to bottom in grey flannel. Splashing was heard from a wide, steel-framed door behind her. I guessed the sounds came from an indoor swimming pool. Judging by the steam on the glass, the doors next to it led to a spa or sauna. My muscles ached for a massage, but that would have to wait. I was here for a job.

  “Do they wear lifejackets in the pool?” I wondered aloud. I guessed that an inflatable nanosuit that could keep you alive for an hour in space would probably be waterproof, but it still seemed strange.

  “Everyone has to wear their lifejacket twenty-four-seven. It’s part of the insurance policy.” For the first time since we met, the foreboding cloud lifted from his eyes and the man grinned. “It gives them something to tell their friends after the cruise.”

  “Is the name also why you only do moon cruises, instead of Mars ones? To avoid any stray comets?”

  “Can’t be too careful,” the man agreed.

  I stepped aside as a slender girl rushed out a door and almost crashed on us. She was balancing half a dozen e-books and tablets, taken from what I guessed was the lending library. With a shy smile, she dashed down the corridor and into the reading room. Her lifejacket bounced against the doorframe, almost making her drop the devices, but she managed to hold on to them at the last moment.

  “Are you coming?”

  Despite his short stature and rotund figure, the ship owner could move fast. I hurried up after him, my eye catching on the Renaissance-style trimmings. The decoration was worthy of a floating five-star hotel. All first-class common rooms were adorned with ornate wood paneling and expensive furniture instead of the practical simplicity usually found on spaceships.

  We passed an open door leading to the outside deck. In a few hours, this would be filled with a throng of passengers socializing, promenading or relaxing in hired deck chairs and sculpted wooden benches. An artificial sun would be shining on the dome co
vering the ship. Now, however, the deck lay empty, much like the space surrounding us. I stole a look outside. The vast emptiness of space caught my breath. Countless stars sparkled brighter than anything I had ever seen back on Earth. Our movement was so smooth, that it felt like sailing on a quiet pond. I half-expected a flock of wild geese to land on the deck at any moment.

  Someone closed the door and passed me by, snapping me back to the present. I followed the ship owner down the Grand Staircase, one of the most distinctive features of the ship. It descended through seven decks. A dome of wrought iron and glass capping it admitted the artificial sunlight in the morning, although it now lay dark, like a black, polished diamond. A large, carved wooden panel above us contained a clock, with figures of “Honor and Glory crowning Time” flanking the clock face. I could not help but gape at the beauty of it all.

  Upon reaching the landing, we entered an ornate hall lit by gold-plated light fixtures. Well-laid tables filled the room. White linen covered the tops. Silver cutlery clanked against porcelain dishes. Waiters meandered skillfully to serve dinner to hungry first-class passengers.

  Music came from the far end, obscuring the diners’ soft murmur. I recognized O mio Babbino Caro and half-expected to hear a soprano —maybe even Callas herself, brought back from the dead —singing the aria. “The Café Parisien offers the best French haute cuisine for first-class passengers,” the man said with a well-practiced flourish.

  “And the music?”

  “Our very own small ensemble. Eight musicians, the very best.”

  “They’d have to be, to play with their lifejackets on,” I could not help but joke.

  He did not seem to share my mirth, and muttered something under his breath. He spun around to continue the tour, when a jolt reverberated through the hull. It was so strong that it knocked me off my feet, sending me to land on my lifejacket. A mannequin crashed through a glass display and dropped next to me. I survived a cruise on… , the t-shirt it wore read. The rest of the inscription was obscured by the doll’s broken arm.