Pulse: A Collection of Short and Flash Science Fiction

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Pulse: A Collection of Short and Flash Science Fiction Page 6

by Frank Carey


  The captain turned to his Science Officer. “Lt. Lewis, anything from the data the survey team recorded while planetside?”

  “They landed just outside a large collection of ruins. Scans indicated that the structures were several hundred years old, but there was no visible indication of what had happened to the inhabitants. They continued into one of the buildings and found what looked like a computer system, but they couldn’t access it due to a force field. They returned to the ship to get a lock pick, but became ill before they could return.”

  The captain keyed the intercom and called Engineering, “Engineer Ortiz, there is a shielded computer on the planet that we need to access. Send down a lock pick-equipped probe unit and bring the computer back to the ship for interrogation.”

  “Yes, sir, Engineering out.”

  “Lieutenant, I’m heading down to Sickbay to talk to Private Davies. You have the con,” the captain said as he left the bridge.

  When the captain arrived at Sickbay, he noted that there were more than seven people in the ward.

  “Yes, Captain, more than half the crew is in isolation and I still have no idea what is causing it or why Davies is unaffected.”

  The intercom beeped, it was engineering, “Captain, the computer is onboard and we are analyzing the data.”

  “Ortiz, pipe the feed down to Sickbay so that the Doctor and I can have a look at it.”

  The captain and Doctor activated a terminal and watched the feed from the alien computer.

  “Anyone who hears this message, beware. The civilizations of this planet waged a biological war against each other. Together, the agents are 99.9% fatal. Consider the planet to be quarantined. Do not come down to the surface. Beware.”

  Screen after screen of genetic data followed the message.

  “Doc, what is that?”

  “Captain, it looks like the genetic blueprint for the biological weapon that laid waste to the planet. I will run it through our computer to see if we can synthesize a cure.

  The captain activated the intercom, “Engineering, did you hear the message? It sounded like they were transmitting that message into space.”

  “Aye, sir. It looks like the transmitter was damaged.”

  “Ortiz, get everything you can from the computer, then fix the transmitter. When you are finished, send the computer back down to the surface and reactivate the shield. If we don’t make it, at least the warning will be in place.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The Doctor walked up to the captain with a report, “Sir, the computer finished the analysis. HQ should be able to synthesize a serum, but they are three weeks away. We do not have the equipment to do it ourselves. Analysis indicates that the whole crew is infected, and we have about 48-hours until people start dying. We are running out of time. Captain, are you listening?”

  The captain was staring at Davies, “What is he drinking?”

  “Tea. The only hot beverage he will drink, tea.”

  “What about the others?”

  “Some drink tea, some drink coffee or other hot beverages. I see where you are going, but there is nothing exclusive about Davies’ diet…”

  The captain walked to the door, opened it, and entered isolation. He walked over to the visibly shaken crewman, picked up his teacup and smelled it. He then examined the tag attached to the teabag.

  “Earl Grey. You only drink Earl Grey, right Private?”

  “Yes sir, I’m the only one on the crew who drinks it regularly. I have my own stash, sir.”

  “Doc?” The captain said as he handed the cup to the Doctor, “Could Oil of Bergamot be the key, could this be the answer?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  The Doctor walked over to one of the survey team members and had him down the citrus-smelling tea. Two hours later, he was symptom free. Soon, the crisis was over and the ship was able to go on to its next mission.

  Room at the Inn

  The scout ship had barely enough power to land in the sandy wasteland. Gnoob was about to give up all hope when the ship’s radar picked up a structure in the middle of the desert. Gnoob called to his wife and daughter, warning them to buckle-in and prepare for a rough landing.

  The scout ship touched down just outside of a large building in the middle of nowhere. Sand covered the lower parts of the structure, but there was a well-lit and clear doorway in sight. After shutting down the scout’s systems, they exited their ship and went inside the structure.

  Outside, the temperature was blistering with a wind that could peel exposed flesh, but inside it was calm, warm, and quiet. They entered what resembled a high-end hotel lobby complete with quiet background music. A hotel like this belonged in a major city or metropolis, not a sand-covered rock.

  “Welcome to the Hotel Zul. I am Dominic, the desk clerk. Can I help you?”

  “We sort of crashed outside your hotel. We are being followed by a SpecOp squad from Artos. I wrote an unflattering article about the government, and they plan to imprison my family and me for it. We just need our ship patched up enough to get us out of this sector. Can you help us?”

  “Sir, you and your family are in luck. We are running a special today. You can stay here, with all amenities, while we fix your ship, all on the house. Jarvis will see you to your room and provide for any need you may have. We are here to serve. Jarvis please take these people to 1542 and have their ship taken to repair bay three.”

  Gnoob and his family were in total shock.

  “I don’t know how we can thank you. But what about the SpecOp squad?”

  “Assuming they actually find this place, I will make sure they are taken care of in a professional manner. Now, go and have some fun.”

  Jarvis, a bellhop hoverbot, took the family and their possessions to their room while Dominic went back to his duties.

  The front door burst open several hours later as the SpecOp squad entered the lobby and formed a defensive perimeter around their leader. As they scanned the lobby, he walked up to the front desk and addressed Dominic.

  “Where are they?”

  “Welcome to the Hotel Zul. I am Dominic, the desk clerk. Can I help you?”

  “Where are they?”

  “Where are who, sir?”

  The Squad Leader pulled out his pistol and shot Dominic in the center of his chest. Dominic folded like a house of cards.”

  “Spread out and do a floor-by-floor and room-by-room search of this hotel. I want them found!”

  Just then, a roar came from the large double-doorway across from the desk. The doors swung open with such force that one cracked. Through the door came a monster that defied description. It had armor plating, tentacles, teeth, claws, and several eyes. It was obviously upset.

  “What the hell? You shot him! Do you know how much money a Dominic-model robot-manager costs? How dare you!”

  With that, the monstrosity lunged. One by one the creature grabbed SpecOps squad members and threw them violently through the front doors. Screaming could be heard from outside as the squad members were set upon by the hotel’s guard creatures. Soon, only the leader was left, cowering behind the front desk, using Dominic’s body as a shield. The creature reached over the desk and picked up Dominic with one tentacle and the leader with another. Slowly, deliberately, the monster brought the leader before a pair of eyes.

  “Shooting him was a really, really, bad idea.”

  With that, he threw the leader out into the desert to face the guard beasts. The leader's screams faded as the massive front doors slowly closed.

  The creature, satisfied that all of the intruders were gone, gently examined the lifeless body of Dominic while muttering to itself.

  “Yea, I think this is salvageable.”

  The creature was so intent on fixing his robot that he did not notice that Gnoob’s little daughter was standing next to him.

  “Is he OK?”

  He swung around and looked at the little girl.

  “Oh, he’ll be fine. I just need t
o fix a few damaged parts.”

  The little girl smiled at him. He was about to smile back when he realized that his smile might scare her, so he reached over the desk with a tentacle and grabbed a teddy bear.

  “Here, this is for you.”

  She took the bear from the tentacle and hugged it. Then she ran over and hugged one of his lower tentacles. He gently patted her on the head.

  “Jarvis, please reunite this little miss with her family while I take care of Dominic.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jarvis replied as the creature took Dominic through the massive doors, gently closing them behind him.

  As Jarvis was about to take the little girl back to her family, Gnoob stepped out of the elevator.

  “So this is where you got off too. We were worried,” he said as he picked her up in his arms. “Where did you get this?” he said as he examined the teddy bear.

  “Just one of the perks of staying at the Zul, sir,” Dominic said as he exited the doorway with the cracked massive door.

  Gnoob stared at the retreating manager's back and wondered if he was missing something. Shrugging, Gnoob headed off to find the rest of his family and enjoy the wonderful amenities of the Hotel Zul.

  Monkey Wrench

  This holiday shopping season started out just like every other. Millions of citizens of the Confederacy entered transport portals and traveled to all parts of the realm in search of gifts for acquaintances, co-workers, and loved ones. The Transport Portal System made it possible for any citizen on any of the five hundred planets of the Confederacy to visit and shop on any other Confederacy planet by simply keying in a destination code and stepping into a transport portal.

  The TPS, though immensely complex due to its technique for bending space, was simple to use. Once a destination code was input, the portal would short-circuit space, encode the user into a stream of quantum data, buffer the information, stream it to the receiving portal, and reassemble the information back into corporeal form. In twenty-five years of operation, there had never been an accident, injury, or fatality. The portal system was safer to use than taking a shower in the morning.

  On this day, though, all that would change. The system had been designed for maximum redundancy, so instead of one central control computer, there were ten spread throughout the confederacy with each C3 sitting on a planetoid in close-orbit to a stable sun.

  On this day, Engineer John Howard was supervising the C3 that maintained operations between the Confederacy’s Capital on Planet Asar and the rest of the realm. Exactly eleven minutes into the shopping rush, the planetoid was rocked by a massive explosion followed by wailing sirens and flashing warning lights. John looked at the main board and took stock of the situation.

  “It looks like Energizer Platform 6 blew. Reroute power from one and three to the affected repeaters. Isolate six from the rest of the system.”

  Then John saw something on the board that turned his blood to ice water.

  “Check Stream 246 from Capital City to Argus. How the Hades did we get travelers in-stream after the disruption?”

  The system had interlocks and redundancies that made it impossible for travelers to be sent from a transmitter buffer to a receiver when there was trouble in the system, yet John found himself looking at four souls stuck in-transit between their origin and destination.

  “Check their positions! Find out where they are and how long they have been in the stream. Now people, the clock is ticking!”

  Once in-transit, they had only seventeen minutes of life. When the clock read 17:01 their information would lose coherence and they would be lost.

  Since the repeater that blew was in their path, the four travelers could be either between the damaged repeater and their point of origin or between it and their destination. If they were between the repeater and their point of origin, then they were already dead, but if they were trapped between the repeater and their destination, then they still had a chance.

  “Engineer, the group is together between the repeater and destination. The path before the repeater has gone incoherent.”

  Thank God, John thought. They have a chance.

  “How much time until the damaged repeater is repaired?”

  “Ninety-three minutes, Engineer”

  John looked at the clock and saw that the travelers had less than six minutes until loss of coherence. John thought for a moment.

  “Is Stream 245 still on lock-down?”

  “Yes, Engineer.”

  “Computer, this is Engineer John Howard, IDent 334-876. Emergency override kappa-kappa-foxtrot-7. Connect repeater 245 to Stream 246 and re-energize. Initiate my authorization.”

  “Engineer! Sir! That is the Consul General’s private stream!”

  “He can ride public for a few hours. Get those people out of there.”

  With twelve seconds to spare, the four travelers materialized at their destination, unharmed and unaware of what had just transpired.

  While his subordinates worked damage control with leadership, John ran down to Energizer Platform 6 to assess the damage. When he arrived, he found a repair crew standing in a group, shaking their heads in wonderment as they examined the cause of the disruption. Someone had dropped a large wrench across a power feed, shorting out the whole system. The odds of something like this happening were greater than one-in-a-billion, yet there it was. On his way back to his office, John, like any good engineer, was already working on a way of preventing this from ever happening again.

  Hot Cocoa

  The temperature outside was –40° Fahrenheit while the wind was blowing at thirty knots. The storm was getting worse and visibility had dropped to about ten feet. The inclement conditions did not deter Joshua and Madeline from their search for the Jergensen Castle, which was a good thing because the fate of human civilization hinged on them finding it.

  Soon they found steps leading up to a porch. They parked at the foot of the stairs.

  Joshua and Madeline exited their vehicle and carefully climbed the stairs to the porch. As they stepped onto the porch, the wind stopped and the temperature rose to well above freezing.

  They headed to what looked to be a door and entered the structure. It was as if they had entered a library or hotel lobby. The floor was marble that was warm to the touch. Small lamps cast pools of light on the chairs and tables throughout the space. Inset into one wall was a massive fireplace with a fire crackling inside. A tall humanoid figure walked toward them from the fireplace area.

  “Greetings! I'm Bob, the caretaker. Welcome!" he said.

  “Hello, Bob, I'm Joshua, and this is Madeline.”

  “Can I get you anything? Hot cocoa, perhaps?”

  “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

  Bob went off and returned with two ornate tankards of hot cocoa.

  “So, what brings you to the castle on such an inhospitable night?”

  “I don’t know if you are aware of this, but Earth has been conquered by an alien race called the Kestra. We are no match for their weapons. Madeline and I work in Kestran headquarters where we overheard two generals discussing the legend of one of their kind who had opposed the Kestran move toward conquering other races, and had been exiled to Earth for his beliefs. The two generals seemed worried that this exiled Kestran could be trouble if he was still alive and found out what they had done. They mentioned this castle as the home of the exiled being. Is the story true? Is this Kestran here?”

  “Yes, young miss, the story is true.”

  From the darkness a giant Kestran walked into the room. He looked like one of the hero paintings they had at HQ—tall, white hair, fangs, with an obvious air of power.

  “I am Sam’l, the exiled Kestran you speak of. Please, tell me, who leads the invasion of your planet?”

  “He calls himself Timo’n. Joshua has met him.”

  “Yes, I have stood next to him. He is like you, tall and strongly built. He has a broken fang and orange hair. He is frightening.”

  “He favors
our father. Yes, he is my brother, and he is responsible for my exile. I had agreed to allow his ascension to the throne if he agreed to never invade Earth. It seems he has broken that agreement.”

  Just then the front door burst open and a squad of Kestran troopers entered and formed an honor guard formation. Moments later, a tall Kestran entered and walked past the ranks of guards to stand in front of Sam’l. It was Timo’n.

  “Brother, it has been a while. It makes me sad that you never write,” he said, gloating. He turned to Joshua and Madeline. “You, madam, will do well in my harem, while you, sir, will find the mines an eye-opening experience. As for you, my brother…”

  As Timo’n turned to face his brother, Sam’l slapped him across the face with a white glove.

  “Timo’n, you have broken the agreement, and under the laws of our people, I demand satisfaction. I challenge you to a duel…”

  “What kind of duel, brother? Swords? Guns? Hand-to-hand…?”

  “Kat-ta deserts, what the humans call s’mores.”

  To a person, everyone in the room was stunned. It seemed that the fate of planets, people, and a huge empire hinged on who could make a better desert.

  “Interesting, brother of mine, and how do you propose that these deserts be judged?”

  “We will each bake a plate and let the guards and humans decide by anonymous vote using poker chips and two colored buckets. Bob will take care of the details.”

  “I agree to your terms. Shall we begin?”

  Sam’l motioned to Bob who went off then returned with a red and a blue bucket, which he placed in the center of the large table. Bob and the two brothers went off to the kitchen. About an hour later a bell was heard and Bob returned with a red plate and a blue plate, both filled with wonderful looking confections. Regardless of their differences, the two brothers knew how to present deserts.

  The honor guard and the humans sampled both plates of desserts with much thinking and pondering. Soon, the last chip was placed in a bucket.

  One of the guards was sent to the kitchen to retrieve the two brothers. When they arrived, Bob counted the chips in the two buckets. The count was verified by one of the guards. When everything was in order, Bob announced the results.

 

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