Exodus

Exodus

by Mike Pollock 

(Flash Fiction contest Entry, SFFWorld January 2018)

Elijah sat silently, flanked on either side by his parents. A large woodgrain television now hissed, static having replacing a heavily synthesized voice beamed directly into every living room on the planet. The sat quietly like that, thigh to thigh, for a moment longer. Then the world seemed to end.

“Jim!” Someone cried, knocking hard against their front door. Elijah followed closely behind his father, leaning around him as the door opened to reveal a group of disgruntled neighbors standing on their front steps.

“Did you get the same message?” The man standing there asked, seemingly out of breath. Beyond them, people shuffled like zombies into their front yards, countless gazes pointed skyward.

“Yea, and I’d bet everyone in town did.”

“Everyone in the world.” Someone said sarcastically, their voice lost in a sudden wave of noise as they all began talking at once.

“Shut it!” The man in the lead yelled out, securing silence for a moment more. He turned his glare back to Elijah’s father, stepping in closer. “What have they told you at the Annex?”

Jim stepped back, nearly toppling over Elijah in the process. “Why would I know anything? I’m a numbers man in the computer bank. I don’t even have clearances above the main gate.”

Elijah took the opening then and pressed his way into the front yard, quickly scanning the sky like those around him. His jaw dropped as he caught site of the moon, glowing a bright blue.

“Eli!” His mother called out, catching up to, and tugging him back into the house. He heard his father telling the others to return to their own homes before he threw the deadbolt, locking them safely inside. Outside, he heard confusion set in, slowly devolving into confused shouting.

“Into the basement.” His father said, checking the windows in the room quickly to ensure they were locked.

“Elijah!” His mother called, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back into the house. He heard his father telling the others that they should return home before they were safely inside. Elijah tried to rush to the window but was cut off by his father.

“Downstairs, into the shelter.” He said, checking the locks on the door and on the windows. There was some shouting heard outside as confusion slowly turned to anger and panic. Eager to avoid begin caught up in any danger, they were ushered into the basement where his father closed a heavy iron door behind them. 

 “Jim…” Elijah’s pleaded tearfully as his father set to pacing the rows of stacked canned food and water. “What are we going to do?”

“I have no idea.” He answered honestly. They had all heard the robotic voice that had interrupted an episode of I Love Lucy. Through war and disease you have doomed your planet to destruction. Do not be alarmed, we have fail safes in place to ensure the survival of your species. Cooperation with the usher droids will avoid any further conflict.

“They said the moon was some kind of space ship!” She shouted. Elijah shrunk back from them, his own mind racing with terrible thoughts.

“That’s impossible. It has to be some kind of hoax. Probably something the commies cooked up to scare the bejesus out of us.”

Above them, from somewhere in the house, there came a loud crash and the sound of footsteps. They all three froze at that, and Elijah stared expectantly at the doorway for the stairs. It felt like an eternity as the thumping moved closer to the door.

As the moment stretched into forever, Jim finally stepped forward and called out, “Take what you want, just leave us alone!”

Again there was silence and the three held their collective breath.

“Please do not stand behind the door.” A synthesized robotic voice called out. They heard a grinding shuffle before a massive crack signaled that the door had been ripped from its hinges.

Through doorway slunk something that looked like it crawled out of a science fiction movie set. Several metal legs carried it quickly into the basement where it stood erect and swung a fish eyed lens around the room as if searching for something.

“James Ward.” It declared, as if that explained everything. “Please come with us.”

It turned to leave, spidery legs scuttling back towards the stairs. Jim made no move to follow and it stopped to regard him. “You may bring your family.” It said, and resumed its climb up the stairs.

Slowly, Jim ushered Elijah and his mother up the stairs, always keeping himself between them and the machine. In the living room, Elijah froze, staring slack jawed at a six foot tall pile of rubble that was once a wall in their home. Beyond it, in the yard, sat a ten foot tall metallic cylinder flanked by several more of the robotic beasts.

As they were escorted closer, he noticed there was only one other cylinder parked in their neighborhood, several yards down. An elderly man was forcibly being pushed toward the thing.

“Wait! Take me too!” A man cried out, cutting across lawns in a sprint towards the metal monolith Elijah now stood before. When he nearly reached them, the machine closest to him spun quickly and fired a blood red bolt into the man. He froze, not ten feet away, and looked down dumbly at the smoldering hole in his chest.

“Why!?” Elijah’s mother cried out as the man’s body fell to the ground. Elijah felt the bile in his stomach rising, tears welling in his eyes. Quickly his father stepped between him and the gore spreading on the ground.

“Only those selected can be retrieved. Limited space on the Ark.” The message seemed to play from several of the robots that stood like statues up and down the street. Quickly, Elijah found himself pushed through the small door in the craft and placed heavily in a padded chair.

From behind him, the wall changed shape, soft lengths of material draped over his shoulders and around his waist. Sufficiently secured, they seemed to harden to keep him in place. His mother and father were placed similarly beside him.

“What do you mean, ark?” His father asked, recovering a bit of courage and fighting back as the wall struggled to coalesce around him. “Why am I being taken?”

“To be saved.” The machine closest to them intoned. Beyond him, several other metallic creatures scuttled through the opening, taking up places around them. Their feet seemed to melt into the floor and the opening beyond glossed over as a door materialized out of nothing.

Elijah gripped the seat silently as a rumble rippled through the ship. He looked panicked toward his father who was staring through the lone port hole as they lifted off.

“Saved from what?” He muttered, watching the world fall away below them.

“Saved from yourselves.” A voice seemed to echo in the small space as they sped towards the future.

Nothing

Nothing

by Mike Pollock

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The words were a challenge, no explanation needed. He pressed this line of questioning further, insulted my mother, my sisters, even my pets. His foul tongued tirade left no stone unturned as he sought to bury me beneath shame and despair.

I nodded with each hurled barb, let the sting wash over me like motivation, gathering the shock of his words into the pit of my being. It filled me slowly, like a battery charged slowly over time.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

His words seemed to intensify, his eye twitched and he took a step closer. The vitriol in his voice transformed in that moment, confident one liners devolved into nervous retorts.

“Yo momma so fat…” He began, but his voice wavered and died on the word. “Yo… Yo momma…” He stepped back at that. The darkness in his eyes faded and he glanced this way and that, as if searching for back up.

“No one’s coming.” I said, finally.

I felt the energy in me then, felt it like the warm glow of a hearth. His power leached, he cowered at my ferocity. I hurled no insults, instead I stalked him down, my eyes aflame in the righteous anger a man can only show once his soul has been laid bare.

“Nothing.”

The word was finality. It was destruction, rebirth, and continuity. It was everything.

“Nothing, is wrong with me.” I said, feeling myself grow. Suddenly he was a child, bleating carelessly at the sky. He fought to regain control but his arms flailed and he remained trapped where he was.

“There is nothing wrong with any of us!” I raised my voice for the first time, and a stray thunderclap illuminated the space between us. His shaking turned to quaking, and in a sudden vibrating climax, he ceased to exist.

But A Memory

But A Memory

By Mike Pollock

(SFFWorld.com November 2017 Flash Fiction Entry)

Caleen squinted against the driving snow and pressed on. Her boots sank deep into the snowy mountain side, and while her body screamed at her to turn around, she persisted. Gritting her teeth, she defied those very instincts and trudged father on. Slowly she gained ground on those ghosts of her past.

“Welcome to the Hillary Steps.” She heard Victors voice in her head. Instead of answering the Memory Bot, she simply nodded and continue her assent. Not one to be ignored, Victor’s mechanical voice whirred once more.

“You’d have surely died had these conditions been present during a summit, Cal.”

“You’re kidding me right?” She demanded. Around her the din from the storm dulled and the wind around her disappointed to a gentle breeze. Her outburst had caused Victor to lose control of the Memory just slightly.

“I’m sorry Cal, I was not programmed to understand human emotion.” His apology was sincere, yet the image around her burst apart like smoke.

“You’re a real buzz kill Vic.” Cal said. She felt the urge to vomit as her mind struggled to reconcile with the shift from the Memory Victor had inserted in her mind with the fact that she was nearing her deathbed.

“So you’ve mentioned, only about a thousand times. As a Memory Bot, my only function is to keep you entertained in the last stages of life. Not to keep this Buzz you’re so fond of mentioning alive. And to be completely honest with you, it feels like cheating letting you relive other’s memories.”

She chuckled at that.

“Victor, the only memories I have of this damned space station.” She pointed a wrinkled hand at the slate gray walls of the small room she rested in. “This is the only view I’ve had for 93 years. I spent more years than some had at all looking out the five by five bay window hoping to catch a glimpse of the earth when the rotation was right.”

Victor’s small spherical body bobbed in the air beside her bed. “Very well.” He remarked, spinning again while lights danced across his metallic surface. Again the room faded and she found herself standing near the summit of Everest.

The storm had passed and she stood looking out from atop the monolithic peaks of the Himalayas. Their peaks bathed in sunlight cast long shadows down into the valleys far below her.

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered.

“Indeed, it was. Or so I was told.” He stepped beside her, taking the form of a man from one of his Memories. “It’s gone now, these peaks are rubble. The earliest memories I can access are those from the retreating ships. The mantle itself began to crumble. Many of these same rocks lay beneath the still boiling oceans.”

“Jesus, Vic. Buzzkill!”

“Buzz kill.” She muttered.

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“Not in a million years.”

“Where to next?” He asked, sensing the fleeting nature of her wonder.

She turned quickly towards him, sporting a wild smile. “Give me wings.” She said, stepping closer. “I want to fly.”

“That’s impossible, I’m not programming with memories of flying humans.” He replied, internally he scoured a million hours of Memories, finding nothing he could use.

“Well, I don’t need actual wings to fly. I read there were suits with webbed wings just under the arms. Give me one of those.”

“That I can do.” He answered, and she heard the almost musical whirring as he shifted the Memory. There was a slight rush of air and she looked down to find a lime and yellow jumpsuit. Under her arms hung fabric she assumed was for flying.

“Thank god I can’t feel the cold in these Memories.” She chuckled.

“Actually, Cal, I meant to ask. Why did you insist on the parka if you could fee-“ but she had already rushed to the edge of a nearby cliff.

With a joyful shout she threw herself into the air. Throwing her arms out to the side she felt the tug as the Kevlar fabric fought against gravity. Soon she was travelling just shy of parallel to the ground.

“It’s fantastic!” She cried, tears filling her eyes as the beating in her chest increased.

“Miss.” Victor said, his voice sounding slightly alarmed.

Instead of answering, she gestured with her hand that he leave her alone.

“Please, Cal.” He said again, appearing beside her in the memory. “Your heart… you haven’t much time left.”

“Then let me enjoy what I do have!” She shouted at him. He retreated, still beside her in the memory as she flew low over the snowy landscape. Quickly they approached a cliff and she hurtled beyond it into the blue skies.

The beeping of machines brought his focus back to her room and he noticed her chest heaving rapidly. “Thank you.” She whispered, her hand falling limp as she reached out towards him. The quickening beep turned into a solid tone as she slipped away.

“Miss Cal?” He asked, knowing full well she was gone. Sensing the lack of organic life, the Space Station began to shut down the lights and other machines. He bobbed closer to his bed and regarded the woman he’d been paired with. They’d shared a lifetime of memories in only a few short months, yet did he ever really know her?

Something strange stirred in him, and he groped for the foreign feeling. What’s next? He thought. There was a clunk as the air filtration systems shut down and the ship stopped its gentle spinning. Gravity failed and objects floated into the air around him.

VM114 he thought to himself. That was what the Makers called me. He felt a current pull at him as the shutdown protocol neared the programming of the Memory bots.

“Victor.” He heard. The voice was Caleen’s. He’d have smiled if he could at the memory. It was one of his own this time, and he was reminded of who he was.

Quietly, Victor followed her into the night.

27

27

by Mike Pollock

Felt brimmed hats

Take you to the moon and back

It’s easy living, shades of grey and black

Salt lined wounds

Showcase on the evening news

Legends down, succumbed to modern blues

A quiet wail

Gusts of wind to fill the sails

Left behind a pallid holy grail

Seduction At Sea

Seduction At Sea

by Mike Pollock

(November 17' Micro-fiction Entry at SFFWorld.com) 

Beckett clung to what remained of the ship’s helm as men drowned around him. Insensibly he watched a man flail among coils of rigging before being pulled below the waves.

A sudden burst of passion burned away all thoughts of the cold, and from the darkness he saw her glide across the frothing water amid the bodies and flotsam.

“You need only take my hand.” She sung.

Thoughtless, he lunged for her, hands passing through the apparition. Laughter swirled around him and he fought desperately to reach her, but her song only grew louder as he succumbed to the sea. 

To Dream of Open Air

A Dream of Open Air

By Mike Pollock 

(October 2017 Micro-fiction entry at SFFworld.com)

The rocky outcropping felt foreign and he hastily leapt into the air. Feathered wings unfolded behind him and Icarus soared into the sky. 

The summer warmth quickly became a blaze of heat, and cries of elation twisted into horrible screams of doom.

***  

“Jumper got any I.D.?” Carl asked, hands full of entrails.

“Nope, another John Doe.” Dorian was scribbling in his Collections notebook. Thirteenth jumper this month, and it was only getting worse. 

“I bet he was on Dream.  Heard that shit will show you heaven.”

“Yea, maybe four and a half seconds worth. Then you’re just Department property.”  

A Betrothal (SFFWORLD.com October 17' Flash Entry)

By Mike Pollock

Carmine sat, straight backed and hands cross. She barely moved as the carriage she rode in rocked and bucked over poorly kept cobble. Emotion fought to ruin her stoic façade as they passed further from the brightly lit farmlands at the edge of her homelands and deeper into the Knotted Wood.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Her cousin Marisse exclaimed, hanging nearly halfway out her window as they jostled through country she’d never seen before. A wave of jealousy washed over Carmine but she banished it in an instant.

“Yes, it certainly is.” She replied, returning her attention back to the looming tree line that encroached ever closer as the travelled deeper into the forest.

A sudden jolt rocked through the carriage and a startled Marisse nearly jumped into Carmine’s lap. The sound of men shouting to control their mounts left a nervousness wiggling inside her gut.

“What was that?” The younger girl asked, concern mirrored on her face. Carmine swallowed and set her jaw and she silently closed the wooden shades over both windows.

“The hell if I know, but we must be quiet now.” She whispered, leaning forward to silent flip the thick iron lock.

“Good day sirs.”

The voice belonged to her Guard Captain Daughtry. He was addressing whoever had halted their progress.

“Long way for a Human caravan.” A voice filled with gravel replied. She’d never met a Phenn but she’d heard they sounded like a large man with pneumonia. Spot on, she thought.

“Hardly a caravan,” Daughtry replied, “but better armed, and with written permission to travel these roads signed by Gaad KinCom.”

“Who are they?” Marisse whispered, startling Carmine. She shushed her and returned her attention to the conversation on the road. With a shaking hand she lifted one wooden slat to grant her a view.

Mostly she saw the nervous twitching of a charger’s tail but beyond the beast she caught a glimse of a massive Phenn, one muscled arm stretched tight with blue-grey skin.

“Who’s in the box?” It said, motioning toward the window. Carmine hastily dropped the shade and settle back into her seat.

“The Lady Carmine Hosvale, Betrothed to King Gaad.” She cringed at the saying of her name.

“Ah, the fucking Princess.” It replied, voice dripping with humor. “Yah hear that boys? That’s the Princess in the box. Gift to our dear King Gaad.” A murmur like the rumbling of a rock slide confirmed her suspicions; there were far more Phenn than Human.

She swallowed hard.

There was a muffled shout and the sound of steel ringing as swords were collectively pulled from their scabbards. “To the crown!” She heard Daughtry cry and her men crowded in around the carriage.

The sounds of fighting swarmed and Carmine cringed at each loud meeting of steel against steel. Marisse’s quiet sobbing cut through the sound of dying men crying out for help. As suddenly as the fighting began, it ceased. A crushing silence replaced it.

“Princess.” A gravelly voice called out.

The handle inside the door jiggled then, but the lock held tight. Carmine’s mind raced but there was nowhere to hide.

“Haruk.” The man called out, and the sound of heavy footfalls moved towards them. There was a loud cracking as something pulled at the door before it ripped free with a crash. Standing beyond was a monster of a Phenn, arms stretched overhead as it heaved the door toward a pile of human bodies.

“An unexpected surprise!” A smaller Phenn stepped up to the door. His odor washed over them as hands grabbed and violently pulled them from their seats. Both women cried out as they were deposited in the road.

“Two pretties!” The big one said leaning toward the girls. A heavy slap to his head stopped him cold.

“Back to the line Haruk.” The smaller one commanded.

“Yes, yes Captain Lenkk” He bowed before ambling back to where a dozen or so of the creatures stood, all holding wicked looking weapons covered in gore.

She’d heard whispered stories as a girl of Phenn raiding parties. They said entire border towns disappeared in the early years of the war.

Carmine was supposed to be the gift that ended the wars between their people.

“Please!” She begged, but was answered with a gloved fist to her face. She sprawled heavily, the sound of bones breaking leaving her ears ringing and her nose gushing blood.

“Shut it” Lenkk growled, crouching down to bring his face close to hers. She felt his warm breath wash over her face and smiled despite the pain. Her broken nose spared her its stench. He recoiled, his face a sudden storm of fury as he buried his boot into her side.

Bones cracked and she gasped from the pain. Rolling from the impact she curled and retched, painting the cobblestone with blood and bile. Around her the Phenn cheered.

“Stop!” Marisse exclaimed, putting herself between Carmine and Lenkk. “Leave her be.” Her quivering chin was held high despite the tears that ran down her cheeks. Lenkk’s face shifted from confusion to humor and he let out a deep laugh.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked, pulling Marisse close by the back of her head.

“Princess Carmine.” She replied, voice wavering.

“And that’s an order, Princess?” He didn’t give her time to answer as he pulled a long dagger from his belt and buried it in her chest. Her eyes bulged and she gasped open mouth before he let her slip to the ground.

“Leave her where they’ll find her, we want that treaty torn up.” He said and turned her attention to Carmine. “And you come with me. After all the little Princess ordered I keep you alive.”

He chuckled as he gagged her and threw her across the back of his horse. She felt darkness press in as her wounds threatened to swallow her and he leaned close again. “If you’re lucky, you’ll live long enough to watch all of your cities burn.”