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If you Can’t Go Around It…
Finally, the digging was over. Hank shut down the engine of the drill and marveled at his work. It had taken him a lifetime to make the tunnel from Sarasota, Flordia to Jinx-Chieng, China. Along the way he had discovered deeply buried civilizations, archaeological and paleontology finds never before seen. He found rock formations that nearly destroyed his bit and molten rock that nearly destroyed him.
He no longer knew what sunlight, fresh water or sex was like. He had known nothing but the shroud of carbon-fiber and the sound of chomping diamond tips, now, all he needed was a hot bath, a friendly face and a cup of coffee.
As he closed the door to his rig he realized something, sitting on the front seat were two items of great importance, the keys to the door and his English/Chinese dictionary.
Perhaps my reaction was a little less than it should have been, after all it was a full onslaught of supposed state-of-the-art nuclear warheads that hit my exposed belly. “Ouch,” was what I said. I said it calmly and without much feeling. I did sting, admittedly but what did they expect? I’m an asteroid roughly twice the size of their moon. I can’t help the fact that I got pulled into a trajectory that put me in line with their planet. If I could help it I would.
The unfortunate thing about no longer being an inanimate object is that I have feelings. I don’t know when this occurred exactly. I think it was after I blasted through Gabingga Tsuyala. I only guess that because that is the first impact which I remember the name of. Something happened after that. I could feel the psychic energy off of some planets, I could read the future and see the destruction I would cause. It brought me great pain. I have been struggling with my emotions since I witnessed the gas creatures of Jinga-Jinga float and implode as their atmosphere exploded with my impact. I bounced off, changing trajectory again. I felt no pain, that time.
The next time I knew that I was on a path to destroy living feeling entities. I hoped that I would miss the tiny planet, or if I didn’t that it would somehow stop me from travelling further, but it did not. My feelings intensified, as if the thoughts and feelings of those that I destroyed clung to me, hoping to live on.
My new found self awareness did not translate into being able to move. I focused all of my energy on altering my coarse, but to no avail. I wished to die now, I have no reason to live. The beings on this blue planet are the first that have attempted to protect themselves, they have known I was coming before I was even aware of them. I knew what would happen, I would glance a soft blow, pushing their planet but a slip further from their sun, but enough that they would suffer in cold and starvation for centuries.
As another flurry of explosions crackled upon my chest I prayed that at least one would end my suffering so I would not feel theirs.
Video Games Kill
What the hell was that? I wondered, then turned back around. It was just a flash of light in my periphery. It was an unneeded distraction with timing that could not have been worse. The image on the screen went blindingly bright, then to black. Had this been an Atari game from the previous century it likely would have said “GAME OVER” followed by some sort of wonky digital ‘loser’ jingle.
I had been playing ‘Real War’ for almost 72 hours straight. I needed a break. I peeled myself off of the leather chesterfield, scratched my ass where the sticky seat left a mild burn and went to the fridge. It had been too hot to do anything but sit around in my underwear, drink sweet tea and play video games.
I opened the fridge door and once again something caught in my periphery. “What the hell was that?” This time I asked myself out loud. I had to rub my eyes. For a moment I thought that the television screen had gotten cracked and it was covered with dust and streaks, then I realized that it wasn’t the television I was looking at, it was the window. I recognized the planes that were flying low and the machinery driving by. I had been fighting them all day and all night. It was the Babylonians, but they didn’t exist, how could they exist?
I gave my head another shake. A hundred yards from the house lay the wreckage of an H-27 Mid Range Aerial Destroyer, Forest Green with an angry Ogre Face emblazoned on the front. That was my plane, I made that plane. It sat smoldering, nose first in the Arizona sand. I turned to the television and saw the same scene, only from a different angle.
Final words etched themselves across the screen
The final stand of Earth was lost. As the remaining population attempted to surrender to the other worldly Babylonians they quickly realized that there was no surrender, only death. Earth was quickly wiped of it’s inhabitants and destroyed for it’s precious metals, leaving the Babylonians to move on to their next target.
He didn’t have time to wonder What the hell it was that came through his house.
“What the hell was that?” Kyle flinched as something skimmed across his bareback. At first he thought that maybe Megan had run her hands down it but then he remembered that her hands were securley, and comfortably handcuffed to the bed.
“I think it was a dragonfly,” She laughed. She hadn’t seen it only heard it. Her eyes were closed as Kyle was washing her body with gentle kisses. Until the interuption she had been fighting her restraints, begging them to release her so she could force him to do her bidding instead of being teased with his soft lips which never went exactly where she wanted them.
“Now, where were we?” He asked seductively, bending back down to her soft stomach. “Oh for Christ’s sake!” He yelled as the insect buzzed him again. He got up off the bed leaving Megan perfectly and nakedly exposed.
The eroticism of the moment was completely lost as Megan saw his bare ass run out the door to retrieve a fly swatter. He returned, his penis danced around as he chased the oversized mosquito around the room.
She couldn’t stop laughing. “Kyle, just forget about that damn bug and come here and fuck me, or at least untie me.”
He didn’t acknowledge her half hearted plea but instead left into the air and swung the bug racket at the pesky dragon fly. It made a zapping sound and crashed to the floor. There was a sizzle and a puff of smoke. “Shit.” Kyle said.
“What is it you said your wife did again Kyle?” Megan asked.
He turned to her with a nervous smile painted across his face. “Uhm, micro aerial reconossaince engineer.”
“O…kay… I think now would be a good time to hand me that key.” She said.
He was acutely aware of his thoughts. He was even aware that he was aware. He couldn’t remember when it had happened, it felt like he had always been able to think but he had very few thoughts that he could remember. He was certain that he had been around for a long time but in the same instance had no concept of time. The oldest memory he had was of the observation of his first memory, which was a memory of recolection. The last memory he had was of recalling that he was having thoughts. He needed to move on from this conundrum and think beyond thoughts.
He envisioned what created his thoughts. He saw it as a lump of —what was a lump?— sludge —what is sludge?— that pulsed and grew. He allowed this sludge to enlarge and explore. There was a tingle in a new part of his brain. It sent a spasm and he shook. He felt warm liquid —what is arm? what is liquid?— around him and he shook again.
Now he had more things in his sludge. He remembered something else. Thinking too much made him tired.
“Did you feel that honey?”
He put his hand on his wifes expanding tummy and felt, but nothing happened. “No, sorry”
“Just wait, I bet it will happen again.” He fell asleep waiting.
Another year of that and she was sure she’d go mad. The mechanic came up from the bowels of the ship covered in grease from bow to stern. He was so dirty she could hardly recognize him, her mind was so filled with filth he likely wouldn’t have recongnized it.
“Status Report Dr. Trilgaard.” She said as formally as possible as she envisioned herself peeling off his blackened coveralls and took his greasy smitten hand to lead his naked dirty body to her personal shower.
“The vacuum counterforce is repaired and the magnetos are back on line.” He said removing his saluting hand from his temple leaving a dark streak above his right eyebrow. “It was hard trudging but I finally got it.”
She didn’t get passed the ‘Hard’ part. “Good work Doctor, how long until we will return to full operating capacity?” She asked.
About twenty-five minutes captain.
“That’s just enough time.” She said and lept at him ripping off his overalls revealing what she had hoped for, a clean torpedo to fill her empty space.
The Edge of the Universe is a Lonely Place
This place was probably causing Douglas Adams to roll over in his grave. “The Amusement Park at the End of the Universe” but Hackensack New Jersey was hardly the end of the universe and there was little amusement. But why was I here?
Sheltered inside a café that was supposed to be modelled after his fictitious alien stop-over, I sipped my coffee from a spaceship mug and pondered my existence on this god-forsaken planet. My return to the storm reminded me of my cold existence; I let the rain wash me away, back into my pit of despair.
Is it good to be the bellwether? Why do they think I’m the voice of the people? I’m just a thirty-something professional living in a second-story apartment in a middle-class community in a moderate-sized city. I’m nothing special. The most exciting thing that’s happened to me lately was when I blew-up my barbecue trying to make chicken, now “They” want my advice? Do “They” think I am capable of telling them the future? I’m no prognosticator, I’m just a middle manager, a middle manager having coffee with the most powerful men in the world. I guess average can be good.