by Graeme Hurry
That night there were lights. He heard Petro screaming through the wall. He did as he’d been taught, curled into the foetal position on the middle of his bed, and pulled the covers over his eyes.
“They’re not coming for me”, he told himself. “They won’t come for me.”
He almost wet himself when they crashed through the door. The rules didn’t matter now. He looked out: just his eyes over the top. Six men, in black, torch lights blinding, ripped through his room. He heard his music box shatter against the wall, and the cold, normal part of his mind wondered if he could insur-claim. He’d never imagined the onslaught of a raid would be so vicious. He counted his breaths, waiting for the contact from the arm that would haul him out of his world. Their feet beat round and round him, and there was nothing. Jimmy took a deep breath, and was fighting against his instincts to sit up for a proper look, when the bed moved. He went rigid.
“You thought it was you, son, didn’t you?” said Mr Porty’s voice.
Jimmy sat up to see the Landie sitting on the end of his bed. He turned red-faced with fury. This was outrageous.
“What the snag?”
“Easy there. I’m not your normal landie.”
Jimmy fought for words, but his mind raced with so many possibilities his voice couldn’t catch up. Porty watched him approvingly.
“Too much stuff? Too many ideas? Imagination.”
Jimmy flinched at the word.
“Don’t worry, Jimmy. It’s clear that although you have ideas you can’t handle them. You can’t shape them. I know about that novel, but I also know it wasn’t of a calibre to get you squeezed.”
“Who are you?”
“You know that.”
“You’re a Squeeze man,” said Jimmy with awe.
“Ever wonder how a Squeeze man gets made?”
Jimmy shook his head.
“We need to have the ability to imagine, but lack the ability to create. We are made the first time we land our first Squeeze.”
“We?”
“I’m here to take Petro to assess. If anything else happens, call me.”
“What else?”
Mr Porty leaned close.
“I think you would know,” he said softly, and Jimmy felt something cold wriggle down his spine.
“Remember, when you’re a Squeeze man nothing else matters. It’s the job; the duty that becomes your life. You and I kid, we didn’t cut it for the machine, so we became the servants of the machine, as surely as if we were Squeeze-heads. But we’re the lucky buggers; we get to have a life as well. And it’s a snagging good life. Your friend Petro is liable to earn me good.”
But Petro didn’t. He failed the assess, and a new Landie was assigned. For a few nights, Petro woke the whole flat with his screaming, but two weeks later things were safe and steady again. Petro had even begun to boast of what happened. Surprisingly, he was also a little quieter and a little more considerate, but essentially the same he had ever been. He and Tammie had become close, much to Jimmy’s disgust. Petro said Tammie understood. They weren’t relationshiping, which was discouraged in co-dwellers. Tammie, even finally confessed, that was why she’d been booted before, and she sure wasn’t going to let that happen to her a second time. Generally peace reigned, there were the little domestic ripples that echoed around any group, but nothing special. Even Jimmy’s head cooled down. Mr Porty must have had the wrong house all along. A tiny, tiny part of Jimmy was disappointed.
Then one Sunday evening Tammie said a strange thing and he knew at once. She came to him, her hair fuzzed with sleep and her eyes distanced, seeing a different realm.
“I went into the room just now, and I saw a bag, my bag, sitting on the table, and I thought what woman has left this here? Do you see I was thinking as a child? I was fourteen – or thereabouts. I’d completely lost my space in time in my mind. It’s terrifying to remember we are the same as we always were; its only others’ expectations of us that change.”
This is it, thought Jimmy. She’s caught a voice, tapped it from deep inside her or siphoned it off another Squeeze-head’s work. Who cares? She’s the answer. He picked up the phone, dialled, pushing down his regret that now he would never know what Tammie kept under her green sweater.
He went with Tammie to see the first Squeeze. It was normal, Mr Porty said, for her Squeeze Man to accompany her. He said it would be a good day, lots of A-class food and drink, and luxury apartments. He’d get a lot of acclaim if the first one came out right – and first one’s were usually the best.
When he saw the helmet go down over her head. He began to see what it might be like, and because he was allowed, he tried to imagine it. Her heart would be beating faster. The cold touched her brow. Despite what they told her, she’d be wondering if it actually squeezed. Then there would be the thrill of the first. Apparently, it raised their endorphin levels out of orbit. She wouldn’t be down for days. When she did come back that was when the worry would start. She’d begin to wonder how long she had; what her brain could take, when everything would turn to mush. Jimmy couldn’t begin to imagine that kind of fear. That’s what makes me the Squeezeman rather than the Squeeze, he thought, and thanked all the gods and goddesses at once.
The first story out was a love story, of such depth and poignancy; no one in the New City slept well that night. The Squeeze Men had worked their magic and the people rejoiced.
CONTRIBUTOR NOTES
Keith G. Laufenberg has been writing for over 30 years and has had over a hundred poems and short stories published. His work has appeared in such magazines and journals as: AIM Magazine; The Maryland Review; Spillway Review; Spoiled Ink; Down in the Dirt; Pleaides; The Oracular Tree; Struggle; Prole Magazine, Pulp Empire; NuVein; Short-Story.Me; The Earth Comes First; An Electric Tragedy; Mobius Magazine; The Washington Pastime; Rymfire Books; One Million Stories; Euonia Review; Short Story.Me; The Spillway Review; Author Trek; The Oracular Tree; Struggle Magazine; aaduna; NeonbeamMagazine; The Write Room; The Corner Club Press; Pot Luck Magazine; OMG Magazine; An Electric Tragedy; et al, and he has also had 2 novels published: “Miami Rock” and “Semper-Fi-Do-or-Die”, both in 2007. Both novels can be purchased on Amazon; Barnes & Nobles; Books-a-Million, et al, and dozens of his published short stories can be accessed on the Internet or through his web-site at: www.kglaufenberg.com
Robert Neilson lives in Dublin with his wife, two daughters, son, two dogs, one cat and a growing feeling of claustrophobia. He is part of the publishing team of Albedo One Irelands only magazine specialising in SF, Fantasy and Horror. His short fiction has appeared extensively in professional and small press markets and he has had two plays performed on RTE and one on Anna Livia FM. He also has had several comics and graphic novels published. See his website: www.bobneilson.org
William P. Johnson lives in Philadelphia. Previous publications include two short stories at snmhorrormag.com (one of which placed fourth place), and a short short at microhorror.com. Follow him on twitter: Americantypo
Walter Campbell has had stories in Dog Oil Press, Jersey Devil, Six Sentences, Dogzplot, Weirdyear, Vestal Review, Flashshot, Yesteryear, Eclectic Flash, Toasted Cheese, MicroHorror, Negative Suck, 50-Word Stories, There Was a Crooked House collection by Pill Hill Press, Static Movement, Horror Bound, amphibi.us, and Glossolalia.
Richard Pannbacker is a retired PhD/teacher/shepherd. He writes short stories and photo-illustrated stories. He is the winner of the “Kansas Voices” fiction contest. www.rpannbacker.com
Donald Jacob Uitvlugt grew up in Michigan and now lives in Arkansas with his wife and dog. His fiction has appeared in many print and online venues, including ChiZine, Necrotic Tissue, and Renard’s Menagerie, and in the anthologies The Phantom Queen Awakes, Wolfsongs 2, and Silver Moon, Bloody Bullets. Find out more at his Blog.
Billy Wong is an avid fan of heroic fantasy, with a special love for hardcore warriors of the fairer sex. His fiction has appeared in many venues including Sorcerous Signals, Big Pulp, and Robots
Beyond anthology. A full list of his published works can be found HERE
Caroline Dunford is now Writer in Residence for Theatre Company Siege Perilous. She’s author of the Euphemia Martins Mysteries, a light English Country murder mystery series (available in the amazon kindle store), but she is still in love with Sci-fi and Horror. She has two YA novels awaiting publication, keeps writing plays about murders and hopes one day to write sci-fi for tv. Her play about the Edinburgh serial killers, ‘Burke’, has now completed its tour. Fundamentally she likes frightening, challenging and entertaining others. Writing seems the safest way to do this. www.carolinedunford.com
Dave Windett is a professional illustrator and comics artist, his work has been published in Britain, Europe and America. He has drawn comics featuring licenced characters including Inspector Gadget, Eek the Cat, Ace Ventura, Daffy Duck and Korky the Cat. For the Scandinavian market he has illustrated educational books, business manuals and comics. He has also designed original characters for a variety of publications and provided illustrations for everything from magazines and websites to mobile phones, games and children’s shoes. Samples of his work can be seen on his website at www.davewindett.com and on his blog.
Graeme Hurry Edited Kimota magazine in the 90s and an anthology called Northern Chills in 1994. And is branching out into the ether with Kzine
Table of Contents
Editorial by Graeme Hurry
THE OTHER BRAIN by Robert Neilson
SANDCASTLES IN THE SUN by Keith G. Laufenberg
AN UNWILLING AVATAR by Billy Wong
REMOTE CONTROL by Donald Jacob Uitvlugt
LIZARDS by Walter Campbell
TIME OUT by Richard Pannbacker
THE STENCH by W. P. Johnson
THE SQUEEZE MAN by Caroline Dunford
Contributor Notes