by Frank Carey
PULSE
A Collection of Short and Flash Science Fiction Stories
By Frank Carey
Copyright
Copyright © 2006, 2014, 2015 by Frank Carey
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from Frank Carey except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Snake Eyes
RT357
Report from the Front
Gwen
Fitz
Dolphin Talk
Camping Trip
Bookworm
AI
The Artifact
Wallpaper War
Ramses
Debts
But Wait! There’s More
Dig Site
Hero
Exodus
Earl Grey
Room at the Inn
Monkey Wrench
Hot Cocoa
Starter
Book Lover
Table for One
The World is Your Stage
Gate 47
First, You Must Die
Cold Time
Printer
Side Trip
Observer
Juxtaposition
Sanctuary
Zombots
The Tomb
Starsa
Maelstrom
About the Author
Snake Eyes
Sam made good money reading other people’s minds, and things have only improved since the demon joined him. Before, he could only skim surface thoughts and make them believe things, but now he could dig deep and read their darkest secrets or implant commands. The demon said that it gathered strength from the deep layers of a human mind. Sometimes, though, he and the demon would go too deep, and the mark would die. Sam didn’t enjoy those times. Luckily, as they worked more and more marks, he and the demon learned how to work together to avoid going too deeply.
When Sam wasn’t working marks, he was playing street craps. Sam had always been good at craps, having learned the game when he was a marine stationed overseas. Once the demon joined him, Sam found that he could never throw a two. The demon had no explanation. Since then, Sam didn’t play craps much anymore. He found it less enjoyable. Not being able to crap out took a lot of the fun out of the game. He wished he could throw snake eyes and crap-out one last time, just for old time sake.
Business had really improved after the aliens invaded. Seems that Earth Command had a great need for intelligence data, and Sam was able to supply as much as they could afford.
One day Earth Command requested that Sam join an assault squad on a mission.
“Sam, we need you go in with the squad and use your abilities to subdue a ship’s commander while we infect their computer network with a destructive virus. The egg-head scientists say that it can win the war for us.”
“General, you know I used to be a marine, so I can do the battle-thing, but I need to be paid double and up front.”
“Sam, I read your file. I know what happened in that town, and I know what it did to you. We know how hard this will be for you, so we accept your terms.”
Sestra, I had almost forgotten about the little town named Sestra, but then the general dredged up the memories, like stirring the bottom of a cesspool. That op went south big time. We were supposed to get in and get out, with my partner and me running interference. This was before the demon, so my control wasn’t as good as it is now. I remember convincing one of the guards that he had spiders crawling on him while my partner, Ellen, got her mark to believe that snakes were crawling up his pant legs. Everything was going good until a ricochet caused me to lose control for an instant. In that instant, my mark let loose with his .50 Cal and cut Ellen in half. I linked to her as she died. That was when the demon entered my life. Let in by the grief I felt when she passed.
This op went better, almost. Under cover fire from a half-dozen tanks, we stormed the ship. I thought I had the commander under control, but he was a strong one. Then I felt it, as did the demon. The Commander had his own demon, one far more powerful than mine. As his demon froze the assault team, the Commander dove for the control console and activated the self-destruct. My demon freed me long enough to shoot the commander. His demon fled as the commander lay there dying.
My demon and I came to the same decision as the assault team started yelling into their radios, calling for evac. I reached down to the commander and touched his forehead. This time I went deeper than I had ever gone, pulling every byte of information from his brain. Somewhere in the process the commander died, but I didn’t care. I now knew everything he knew.
I walked over to the technicians fruitlessly trying to stop the countdown, took the virus package, and injected it into the computer system. Our mission was complete. It was time for everyone to leave. I had to finish this alone.
With the ship evacuated, I unleashed the demon and told him what needed to be done. He went into the computer and activated the drive systems. We took off and headed into space, where the ship could safely self-destruct. As we climbed into the sky, I heard the reports from the ground detailing the fall of the alien invaders. The demon laughed at the thought of one of his kind doing something for the good of humankind.
As the timer counted down to oblivion, I pulled out a pair of dice from my jacket and blew on them. As the ship’s massive engines detonated, I threw one last roll. As my demon laughed, and oblivion took us both into its warm embrace, the dice came to a stop one last time…
Snake eyes!
RT357
The war against the S’Toll was not going well for either side, so Earth Command fielded artificial intelligence-equipped armor to fight the battles instead of corporeal humans.
To keep things running, Earth Command created the Repair Corps to roam the countryside repairing anything that called for help. One Repair Corp team was Mabel, a human, and Ruth, an advanced AI, a.k.a. Repair Team 357. They were on call 24X7 to repair all battle units in need. Like all repair teams, the two are psychically linked through an implant in Mabel’s brain.
One day, RT357 received an urgent repair request from Battle Group Command.
“RT357, RT357, this is BG6, please respond, over.”
“BG6, BG6, this is RT357. What can I do you for, over?”
“RT357, BG6. We have an ailing main battle tank that needs help. Can you respond, over?”
“BG6, RT357. No problem. Please transmit details. I’m on my way, over.”
“RT357, BG6. Thanks. Greatly appreciated. Details follow, over and out.”
Mabel pulled up the details on the computer and whistled. The tank with problems was a Mark 36 Supertank with 22 weapons systems and a seventh generation AI unit. She prepped the repair pod while connecting to Earth Command’s databases, just in case there had been an update.
“Ruthie, darling, did you get all that? Systems check, please, and see if there’s anything unusual about a M36 named Damien.”
“Working on it… Mabel, Damien is a very troubled boy. It seems that he once went rogue and took out an enemy camp without Command authorization. There is mention of civilian death
s, but no details. In addition, he is an augmented M36 with higher-level functioning.”
“Great. Earth Command must be getting desperate if they are fielding iffy supertanks. OKay then, contact Damien and tell him we’re coming and give him our IFF code. Don’t want the old boy to shove a hellfire up our tailpipe by mistake.”
We arrived at Damien’s position at sunset and got to work fixing the beast. He must have seen one helluva battle by the looks of the damage he had taken. Mabel, with the assistance of Ruthie’s mobile robot units, was able to patch the holes and repair the damaged systems. Lastly, she restocked the ammunition and missile stocks. When finished, Damien was better than new.
“Damien, you’re finished. Please initiate a systems check.”
Damien remained silent.
“Damien, darling, system check please.”
Damien swung a gun turret at Mabel.
“God told me to go forth and lay waste to all who sin against him. Logic dictates that all corporeals are sinners, therefore I must destroy all sentient life forms on this planet.”
The minute Damien said “God,” Ruthie had the big rear loading door opening while firing off smoke grenades. She raced around Damien in an attempt to get between him and Mabel. Meanwhile, Mabel started to run to where Ruthie was going to be in an attempt to escape the impending barrage of bullets. In the meantime, Damien tried to take out Mabel.
Mabel made it to the vehicle, but had been hit by one of Damien’s rounds. She made it into the repair pod and collapsed on the floor. Ruthie got away from Damien and lost him in the canyons, but had used up all of her defensive stock. She used a mobile to get Mabel on an examination table and assessed the damage to her friend.
“Mabel, listen to me. You’re dying and there is nothing I can do.”
“Where are we?” Mabel said weakly.
“About 30 miles from a little town called Piedmont. We have lost Damien for now, but our getaway depleted our defensive stocks. All we have is a spare 20 kiloton nuke warhead, but no way to deliver it. What should I do?”
“Get us to Piedmont. I have family there. I will explain the rest on the way.”
They got to Piedmont at sunrise. When she got to the center of town, Ruthie parked and locked the repair pod in place using stabilizer augers. She disengaged the command section and weapon section, leaving the repair section in place. Using her external speakers, she called for the Mayor and doctor.
The Doctor was the first to arrive, so Ruthie sent him to the Repair Pod. When the mayor arrived, Ruthie briefed her on what happened. When Ruthie got to the part about Mabel having family, the mayor’s eyes went huge and she ran back to the Repair Pod.
“Mom, is that you?”
“Ellen. So, you made mayor. How are you?” Mabel was fading.
“Great, I’m doing great. I have a daughter, your granddaughter. We named her Mabel.”
“Listen to Ruthie, she knows the plan. Everything will be fine.” Then Mabel was gone.
At that moment, the lights in all three sections of RT357 went dark. A second later, they came back on. Ellen went back to the command module.
“Ruthie, she’s gone.”
“Yes, I know,” Ruthie said solemnly. Ellen noticed that Ruthie’s voice had changed. In some ways she sounded like Mabel.
“Ruthie, are you OK? You sound different after the power failure.”
Ignoring Ellen’s question, Ruthie continued, “Ellen, Damien is coming and I have to face him. If I don’t stop him, he could come here and wreak havoc. I’m leaving the Repair Pod here. The instructions are in the onboard computer.”
Ruthie fired up the turbines.
“Mabel loved you, you know. She spoke about you often, and thought about you even more.”
Ellen realized that only her mom could know that last fact.
“Mom, is that you?”
Without answering, RT357 drove off to meet Damien, leaving Ellen and the town behind.
“Good bye, mom,” Ellen said quietly.
Hours later, a mushroom cloud rose over the deep canyon where Damien had cornered RT357. In his arrogance, Damien had forgotten that nothing is more dangerous than a mother protecting her children.
Report from the Front
James Egan comes into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat down at the desk in the middle of the room. From his backpack, he pulls out a digital recorder and a bottle of water. He takes a drink of water and activates the recorder.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, this is James Egan reporting from the battle zone outside of Wichita, Kansas, in the heartland of America. Nearby, human and Axon forces have engaged Meer raiders in an all-out battle which will determine the fate of both races.”
James adjusts his chair to get comfortable.
“Two years ago, an interstellar spacecraft landed on Earth as part of an exploratory mission to this part of the galaxy. On board were Axons, a technologically advanced and friendly race from the planet Kar.
“The governments of Earth and Kar were eager to establish trade relations, so a group of emissaries from Earth was sent to Kar as part of a cultural exchange, while an Axon group from Kar remained on Earth. As luck would have it, I was chosen to go to Kar.
“For the next two years I found myself immersed in Axon culture as I traveled across Kar, interviewing Axons from all walks of life. I came away from these interviews with a deep appreciation of the Axons and their culture.
“While on Kar, I learned of the Meer, a belligerent species that survived by hijacking Kar trade ships and attacking Kar colonies. Decades ago, the Meer had been driven out of Axon space and had not been heard from since.”
James pauses and listens for a moment.
“All good things must come to an end and so too did my stay on Kar. All too soon, I found myself reluctantly boarding a ship bound for Earth, carrying with me hundreds of hours of recordings of my travels on Kar.
“Our return trip was uneventful, until we entered the Earth’s solar system. Upon dropping out of hyperspace, we received a radio message from Earth warning us that a race calling themselves the Meer had attacked population centers across the globe and were in the process of establishing a beachhead. Humans and Axons alike listened to the message in shock and horror.
“Contact was finally re-established with the Axons that had chosen to stay on Earth. They had been able to evade detection by the Meer, but time was quickly running out. A resistance movement of Axon and human forces had been formed to counterattack the Meer. Help was desperately needed.
“The captain of our ship swiftly contacted Kar to inform his superiors of what had transpired and to request that reinforcements be sent immediately. It was then that we learned that the Meer had attacked Kar as well. All of the Kar military forces were committed to stopping the Meer invasion at all costs, so no help would be forthcoming. We were on our own.”
James pauses, then stands up, goes to the door, and listens for a moment. Satisfied that there is no one there, he returns to his chair and resumes talking.
“Seldar, the ship’s master engineer, was able to modify our navigational shields so that we could evade the Meer blockade ships orbiting Earth. We landed undetected outside of Wichita, Kansas, and a recon force of human and Axon personnel were sent out to contact the leaders of the resistance. Without hesitation, I volunteered for this hazardous duty since I was very familiar with the area around Wichita.
“We were able to escape detection by the Meer for most of our journey and had progressed to within a few kilometers of the rendezvous point when we were attacked by a large group of Meer. Heavy fighting ensued with casualties suffered on both sides. It was apparent that something needed to be done to allow the surviving members of our group to escape, so I volunteered to act as a diversion. At the appointed time I ran off, firing my gun wildly in the hope of drawing off the Meer.”
James pauses and takes a deep breath. He continues to speak, more quickly now as if he is running out of time.<
br />
“My ruse worked and I found myself being followed by the surviving members of the Meer squad. Eventually, I found my way to this building outside Wichita. I think I lost the Meer, but I cannot be certain. I hope that this recording will be found by friendly forces in the event that I am captured…”
Someone or something knocks on the door. James hurries to finish as he stands up from the chair.
“People of Earth, I think the Meer have found me. Carry on the fight! This is James Egan, signing off…”
James goes to the door and opens it.
“Oh, great! Come on in.”
James returns to his chair followed closely by his wife, Megan, who is carrying a sack.
“James, since you are working late on your story I thought I should bring you some dinner.”
“Thanks, Megan, I was getting a little hungry.”
“So, how’s the story coming?”
“Real good, so far. I just have to figure out how to save James, the lead character.”
“Yes, by all means, save James. I think he sounds rather cute.”
James and Megan look at each other and start to laugh. Just then, there is a loud knock at the door. James walks over and opens it. Standing in the doorway is an eight-foot tall being with the biggest gun James has ever seen.
“I am Reskor of Meer, and you are my prisoners!”
In 2006, I wrote and directed a short film called Report from the Front, which you can see at http://youtu.be/yZHKPC3IdF4. While writing this anthology, I found the original screen play and converted it to flash fiction with a slightly different ending.
Gwen
Legend has it that a dark elf lives within this forest. She is extraordinarily tall—at least 7-feet—with skin like burnished leather, long ears that end in points at top and bottom, and hair white as freshly fallen snow. She has lived in these woods for the better part of forever, yet she is ageless. Stories of her deeds have been told for countless generations, and all who live here hold her in the highest regard. She is known only as Gwen.
My name is John Kemp and I’m a cryptozoologist, the last of my kind.