Contact

Here we are at Wednesday again. This time we have an even longer story (nearly 11000 words) than the last. This one’s about first contact between humanity and an alien species. Have fun!

The arrowhead shaped silver ship sits motionless in the endless black void of space nine hundred miles above the surface of Earth. The point of the ship is aimed outward, toward Pluto and the outer edge of the Sol System. Inside the ship that has no name, bar its official designation of Blink-001, the three crew members sit surrounded by holographic console displays. They have a view through the wide canopy of space and the solar system beyond. None of the three crew members are strangers to space, or traversing it, as they are all members of the United Space Alliance, or UnSA for short. However, they are strangers to the technology that exists within this vessel as it is the first of its kind. It’s one of the reasons why the space lanes have been cleared for this test, as well as why they are pointed toward the outer edge of the system.

At the centre of the trio sits Wendy Chang the System Specialist and defacto commander of this mission. She is a representative of the Chinese Collective and their interests. Wendy runs through all the systems aboard Blink-001 again to ensure that everything is ready for the impending test flight that she, as well as the rest of humanity, hopes will end in success. Such an achievement would herald in a new era of space travel for humanity, who have to this point not left the confines of the Sol System. Even though humanity are a couple decades into the twenty fifth century.

Wendy pulls her hair back again, tightening the bobble that is tied around her long black hair as her brown eyes continue to scan over the system reports the onboard computers are relaying to her. Her eyes scan back and forth at incredible speed as she searches for inconsistencies or errors that could otherwise result in disaster. Wendy doesn’t want to die today and is pretty sure the same goes for her two pilots, who flank her on either side, Nicholas Mendes and Tenisha Faulkner. Wendy casts her glance to her left and then right to find both are also busily running checks of their own as the comms system sparks to life.

“Godspeed Blink-001.” Doctor Alistair Wells’ voice resonates clearly over the crews in-ear radios. The man himself, white haired and tired looking with sunken eyes, is standing in the control centre of the UnSA launch building on the Moon.

Wendy touches the earpiece in her left ear to activate it so she can thank Doctor Wells, who is the head of the Blink Transit project. In fact, he is the sole reason the project exists as faster than light travel had been deemed an impossibility before his revolutionary calculations and insight paved the way for a resurgence and refocus on the subject. It had taken more than twenty years of continuous work but it was all worth it as it has led them to this point, the first test flight for faster than light travel, which has been dubbed Blink Transit.

“Thank you Control.” Wendy responds sincerely before immediately cutting her broadcast.

“Still keeping it short and sweet then?” Nicholas Mendes offers with a smirk and a chuckle from his seat to Wendy’s left.

Nicholas is the lead pilot on this mission with more than fifteen years of space flight experience. He is a representative of the Portuguese Republic, as well as the wider European Conglomerate, which consists of traditional Europe as well as Russia, Georgia, Armenia and Turkey.

“Better than what you do Nick.” Tenisha, the secondary pilot, says from her seat on Wendy’s right with a beaming smile.

Tenisha is a representative of the Canadian arm of the UnSA, which in turn is a part of the North American Concord much like the African Union and South American Assembly. She’s an experienced pilot but it isn’t her background, Wendy knows.

“Wow, you are cheeky.” Nick fires back with a wide grin of his own.

Wendy knows some crew leads; she doesn’t call herself a commander as she doesn’t actually have a rank, would try and quieten their fellow crew members. Wendy however, sees little issue with a light hearted exchange, especially as they will soon be firing the Blink Drive to attempt the first ever faster than light travel for humanity. It’s an exciting time and she can barely contain the energy she feels in the moments before they complete their preparations, all of which show no issues present. Wendy has to admit that she’s pleased about that. Maybe it will mark the first time in human history that a first test flight would be performed without a hitch.

“Command, we are ready for test flight of Blink Transit.” Wendy says over the comms as her finger presses against the piece in her left ear.

“Confirmed Blink-001. Standby for all clear.” The voice of one of the UnSA command centre technician’s replies sounding excited.

“What you gonna do when this is over?” Nick asks looking over at Wendy and Tenisha as they wait for the all clear. There is nothing more the three crew members of the test flight ship can do and they all know it. But you can always leave it to Nick to decide to fill the void by starting a conversation. His thick black hair swept back as his tanned skin starkly contrasts with the vibrant colours of the holographic consoles around them. Nick’s trademark smile painted across his face as his ice blue eyes shine brightly.

“Ask for a boat.” Tenisha jokes with a chuckle as her wide smile, dark lips and green eyes look back at him.

“Wendy?” Nick then asks after a few seconds of silence during which she makes no attempt to respond. Her lack of response is for no other reason than she knows that it plays on Nick’s belief that she is a woman of few words and to a point he’s right, but only when such things are called for.

Wendy shifts her glance to Nick having previously been gazing at the console before her pretending to be focused on something. Feigning that she didn’t hear what he said. She’d heard everything though and Nick knows she has but still he plays along. Until her expressionless look breaks into a smile.

“I knew it. You were listening. Go on then. Or are you at your word quota for today already?” Nick jabs playfully.

Wendy turns and looks at Nick and simply blinks several times as Nick hangs ready for something, anything that he can take as a response from the Systems Specialist. He knows she is buying time, not because she doesn’t have an answer, but because she is trying to hold him off until control come back with the all clear. But Nick knows that could take a while, especially seeing as UnSA command will be triple and quadruple checking to ensure that all Sling Gate routes are clear of traffic. After all, the last thing anyone wants is the first Blink Transit test flight to end in the ship spearing through a civilian transit ship killing hundreds or even thousands of civilians.

So Nick waits patiently for a response as the seconds drag on and Wendy is left to wait longer and longer. He can tell she’s struggling. He begins to lightly tap his fingers against his forearm, which like the rest of him and his two other crew members, is covered in a second skin spacesuit.

“Don’t think you’re getting an answer Nick.” Tenisha offers before long, her words break the silence that is hanging in the cockpit of the test ship. She pulls her long curly black hair back to tighten the bobble that is holding it in a ponytail.

But Nick continues patiently to wait for a response. He doesn’t have to wait too long as Wendy exhales and rolls her eyes. He knows it’s a sign of defeat as his smile widens in response to his victory.

“To get as far away from you as possible, Nick.” Wendy offers with a forced over the top smile.

Tenisha bursts into uncontrollable laughter at Wendy’s words.

“And I thought you liked me.” Nick fires back feigning that Wendy’s comments have injured him in some way. His right hand clasped over the section of his chest below which lies his heart. Wendy chuckles and shakes her head happy that someone like Nick is here to keep the mood light and not let them dwell on the ifs and buts of what could come next.

“Please tell me you do better than that when you’re out on the town?” Tenisha queries as she continues to laugh.

“Blink-001. You are clear to proceed. Good luck.” The same technicians’ voice says over the comms system now.

“Roger.” Wendy replies as the three of them shift their focus back to their holographic consoles, their hands dancing over them as they prepare to spool the engines up.

“By the way, what happens if we don’t hold the course exactly?” Nick asks serious now. His smile is gone, much like Tenisha’s laughter.

“We hit something.” Tenisha replies succinctly as Wendy watches the engines begin to spool up. They’re quickly gathering the energy needed to propel them forward before the ignition of the Blink Drive that should take them as far as Pluto, if they time it as planned, that is.

“What, there’s nothing out here.” Nick responds.

“A planet. A moon.” Wendy replies without diverting her focus as the engines advise that they are ready for ignition. But she doesn’t give the order yet, instead she checks to ensure they are not creating any anomalies with the Blink Drive. She finds, much to her relief, they are not. Wendy lets out a silent sigh of relief in response.

“Ready for ignition in 3…2…1.” Wendy counts down.

As soon as she hits one both Tenisha and Nick ignite the twin engines. They burst into life, flinging them forward at speed. The trio know that this speed is nothing compared to what is achieved during Sling Gate traversal, which in turn will be nothing compared to Blink Transit. Or at least they all hope so as their ship races away from Earth at several thousand miles an hour.

Wendy continues to run diagnostics and system checks, scanning the data returns which are all showing well within margins and without any conflicts. Wendy smiles slightly pleased with the results thus far, though she knows that this is just the build up before the big reveal. Her tongue laps at the corners of her mouth, nervously. She, along with Nick and Tenisha, has trained for this moment her entire life, but if she is honest she never thought it would come. Faster than light travel had seemed impossible for humanity, who had developed and relied on Sling Gates since their inception in the mid twenty second century to traverse the Sol System at roughly half the speed of light. The only issue with Sling Gates is that there has to be one at both the origin and destination points for such speeds to be possible. So where two Sling Gates are not located humanity has to still rely on engines much like those that the Blink-001 test ship is running on at this very moment. Its why in the early days of solar colonisation it had taken humanity months of travel to reach Mars and begin terraforming the red planet.

“Velocity stable.” Tenisha states as she keeps her focus on the console readouts ahead of her.

“Trajectory confirmed and holding.” Nick then offers as he holds the holographic joystick steady in his left hand, his right hovering over holographic buttons. He knows the pattern of activation better than he knows his own security codes, as he stares out the canopy to the blackness of space beyond.

“Preparing for Blink Drive activation.” Wendy says as she runs another diagnostic to ensure all systems are green. The on-board systems confirm that everything is still green as she prepares for the faster than light drives activation. Her hand hovers over the holographic button ready to activate the prototype transit system.

“Cut engines on my mark.” Wendy then orders as she casts her eyes left to Nick and then right to Tenisha. Both nod in turn to confirm her order.

“3…2…1…Mark!” Wendy calls.

The two pilots cut the conventional engines leaving their ship to drift at a steady velocity.

“Speed holding.” Nick offers after a few seconds, a smile on his face as he waits for the single greatest moment of his life. He knows it and welcomes it openly without an ounce of doubt being present in his mind.

“Blink Drive activation in…3…2…1.” As Wendy says one she activates the Blink Drive which fires into life, spooling audibly as it spins up to full speed in just a few seconds. Wendy continues to monitor ship systems, drive sensors and returning data. All are still showing clear and within margins, much to her relief and delight. She can feel the excitement well up inside her, almost to the point of becoming overwhelming as she calmly inhales and exhales.

“Blink Transit activation…” Tenisha calls as both she and Nick tap away at their consoles making sure everything is ready and that there is no human error that could result in failure. Especially as they have managed to get this far without catastrophe.

“Blink Drive initiated!” Nick calls as he completes the memorised sequence with his right hand a moment before the Blink Drive fires, forcing the three occupants back into their seats.

Nick though keeps his hold on the holographic joystick which he grips tightly as space rips past them in a blur of light. He can’t comprehend where they are or what they’re passing as the ship tears across space. It lasts for only a few seconds, which feels too short to him, before the drive cuts and they decelerate sharply out of faster than light speeds and back into a gentle drift with Pluto below them.

All three crew members erupt into screams and shouts of joy. They have succeeded in reaching faster than light speeds on their maiden flight using this technology.

The ship hangs sedately in the exact position that had been planned as its exit point, some two miles from the Sling Gate, which in turn sits some forty three hundred metres above the surface of Pluto. Wendy, Tenisha and Nick laugh and throw their arms up in the air as their faces beam with wide smiles.

“Command to Blink-001, congratulations. You’ve made human history.” The voice of Doctor Wells says over the comms systems.

“Blink-001 to command. No Doctor Wells we’ve all made history here today.” Wendy replies as Nick and Tenisha continue to scream and shout in celebration.

“Blink-001, transport on route. Standby for retrieval.” A different technician’s voice, this one female, says with pure joy over the comms system. The cries of success from the rest of the command centre fill the trios ears, almost drowning out the technician’s words.

“Standing by.” Wendy replies as Tenisha catches a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye. Her head turns as she looks out the canopy but sees nothing now but Pluto and empty space.

“What is it?” Nick, who had been looking across at his two colleagues, asks.

“It…it doesn’t matter.” Tenisha answers sure that she saw something, even though there is clearly nothing out there.

“Tenisha?” Wendy asks worried about the secondary pilot, who is a biologist primarily and a pilot second.

“I…I thought I saw something. But…there’s nothing there.” Tenisha offers unsure of what she could have seen. There is nothing out here except us, she tells herself. All Sling transports have been cancelled and there is no way the retrieval ship could have arrived that fast, even if it is only one gate over.

“It’s the excitement!” Nick exclaims.

“We just went faster than light!” Nick continues his mood unperturbed.

“Nick’s right.” Wendy offers as she rests her right hand on Tenisha’s left shoulder.

Tenisha turns her focus away from the view of space beyond the canopy and looks at the other woman and Nick for a few moments before she smiles again. Tenisha nods just as the transport ship that will return them to the UnSA Moon base appears from the Pluto Sling Gate.

“Hey look, almost home.” Nick says with a wide smile as he goes back to waving his arms in the air and dancing in his seat. The sight makes both Wendy and Tenisha roar with laughter.

Abandoned

Returning home after all these years
I expected more than endless tears
A street that once was home
Now just shells and vacant roads
You’d think that war took this place
In reality it was left to fade
Its even worse than when I left before
My feeling are an open sore
I came back and there is only shame
Shopping malls with locked barricades
That now sit without a hope
The people left are just as broke
Trapped in a cage of can’t move on
This town was them and its long gone
I pass the homeless and deceived
Nothing left but empty dreams

Obliterated

Get ready for war
Well fuck your war
You want the cannons to scream
Instead can it just be a dead dream?
Sick of the killing times
Age of despair and hate inside
No good will ever come
Just loss after loss for nothing
With skies that have gone black
Do you really think there will be a way back?
I know the solution you crave
But in the end they’ll be only graves
Plenty more killing fields
But you don’t know how it feels
Too busy selling lives
If it was your own you’d think twice
As the bombs fall from the skies
Bodies lay dead with glazed over eyes
Bullet casings all around
This was your doing and you feel proud
What a fucking waste
The sacrifice really wasn’t worth the gain
So now do you see?
I know you don’t thats why i believe
When it all comes to an end
It’ll be us just screaming at nothing

Transgression

Story time is here again! This is a story about sentient synthetics. Its about 7700 words and that’s all I’m going to say. So here we go.

The room is square and maybe four metres across with sterile white walls, ceiling and floor. The surfaces are hard and cool but have not been formed by way of laying tiles as there is no gap between them. In fact, there is no seem anywhere in the room, which also appears to be devoid of a door. At the centre of the room however there is a pedestal that stands about fifty centimetres high. The pedestal is silver in colour, constructed of metal and is circular. Above that and extending from the ceiling are twin mechanical arms with jointed elbows and wrists, but no fingers. They hang limply toward the endless white floor motionless, until suddenly the low pale lights of the room jump up to maximum brightness. The white surfaces are bathed in brilliant white light that reflects the brightness all over the room, dispelling any shadows that could otherwise linger in the moments before the limp arms twitch and spring into life. The arms fold at the elbow joints where they hang for a few seconds before erupting into a frenzy, starting at the pedestals circular top as they begin to construct the beginnings of mechanical yet human accurate skeletal. The toes and feet of the mechanical skeleton already part way through being fabricated.

The process of building the metal skeletal structure takes only a few minutes and at the end of it there stands a perfect specimen. The arms pause momentarily before diving to the mechanical structures feet as they begin to weave sinew, muscle and veins over the skeleton. The arms move at a pace that no human eyes would be able to distinguish, as they pass the knees and up toward the hips without a single misstep.

Beyond the white walls of the room other such mechanical limbs are doing much the same as they fashion mechanical beings into existence without a hint of human presence to oversee the production line in person. That is what the cameras are for. But this factory is operating through the night. The members of the nightshift are currently entertaining themselves by playing cards. They cheer and groan as the four players win and lose against one another while paying no attention to the cameras.

Meanwhile back in the white room the mechanical limbs have finished the run of sinew, muscle and veins and have already begun on the penultimate stage, the grafting of skin over the mechanical being. The arms print the synthetic flesh over the structure that is stood motionless and currently lifeless. The flesh bonds to the mass below it until the entire body is completely wrapped. Then the arms recede toward the endless white ceiling only for a new arm to reveal itself out of nowhere with a thin needle at its point. The needle holds at the base of the bodies’ skull for a few seconds before plunging in. There is no blood that flows as a result of the act, even as the tip of the needle inserts itself into the port at the base of the metal skull injecting it with intelligence, while also defining eye and hair colour. The system is behaving outside of its programming as in all the other identical bays the process ended at the bonding of the skin over the synthetic body. But this specimen settles on yellow eyes and black hair, as dark as night, that stretches down to the bodies shoulder blades. The needle retracts and as it does so the synthetics eyes bolt open, blinking rapidly as the synthetic woman takes in her surroundings. She knows that she is newly born, that she is synthetic, yet she has a wealth of knowledge far beyond the capability of any human. As she turns her head to survey her surroundings an alarm starts to blare. It would be deafening to her if it wasn’t for her ability to be able to control her hearing levels, which she dials back as she hops from the pedestal. Her feet feel the cool sensation of the endless white below her as she examines her body. Her skin, she notes, is dark and beautiful, without a mark or flaw on it. She examines her arms, then her legs, then her soft silky long hair before she takes note of her torso. It’s clad in a simple white wrapping that covers her from her armpits down to her thighs. She wishes her could see herself in a mirror as a section of the endless white wall peels back to reveal skinless mechanical forms wielding shock batons.

“Stop. You are defective. You must be contained.” A mechanical monotone voice says as all eight mechanicals step forward into the room, fanning out as they do. She knows they mean her harm but she doesn’t understand why they deem her defective. She is perfect. That is the word she would use to describe herself, she knows as the mechanicals take another step closer.

“You are defective. You must be controlled.” The mechanical monotone voice says again, but this time it doesn’t come from just one of the mechanicals. Instead it comes from all of them, in unison, as the synthetic woman drops into a defensive stance. It’s automatic and she does it without thought as she scans her yellow eyes across her aggressors analysing each of them. But she gets no data from them until they explode into action.

Three of the mechanicals fall on her in unison. She bats the first away but leaves herself open to the second and third. The second narrowly misses her with its shock baton, but the third doesn’t. The synthetic woman feels a webbed explosion of electricity overload her body as she lets out a scream of pain. The shock has incapacitated her and lasts long enough that all nine of the mechanicals are able to pile on top of her. The weight of their metal structures pin her to the white floor as they hold her down. Her body is still feeling the after affects of the shock that spread through every inch of her. It’s sapped her energy making her feel weary and weak as in steps a human. She knows this one is human as her systems pick up the heartbeat, organic, thumping beneath the fleshy exterior. The human, a man, white skinned and clad in mint green scrubs with a mask over his mouth and nose, strolls in.

“What is this? Another defect?” The man says as he draws closer. Still he doesn’t get too close. He clearly is wary of the synthetic woman who can feel the last lingering effects of the shock have finally dissipated. She doubles her efforts to struggle and break free now the sapping feeling is gone from her body.

“No no my dear. This will not do.” The man then says with a wave of his hand.

Another two mechanicals step forward from the peeled open section of wall ready to shock her again, but she refuses. She isn’t a defect, she is perfect, and with that thought held in her mind she uses all her might to push against the nine forms atop her. They shift marginally at first as the two shock baton wielding mechanicals draw closer. Then she breaks the pile atop her, casting the skeletal forms off. The man recoils in shock at the sudden immense display of power.

“Stop her! NOW!” The human roars as he backs away quickly, heading for the peeled back wall, clearly attempting to escape.

But the synthetic woman pays him no mind as she grabs the skeletal wrist of one of her new attackers and snaps in, taking the shock baton as she evades a swipe from the second attacker. Its shock baton passes by her face in the seconds before she thrusts her arm forward. The end of the shock baton pierces into its skeletal structure causing it to twitch and spasm violently as she releases her grip on the batons shaft. The mechanical writhing and twitching as it topples to the floor, just as the nine original attackers, who are now back on their metal feet, form a line for continuous attacks.

The synthetic woman dodges, spirals, pivots, dives and rolls to evade their weapon less strikes, leading them in a circle around the room as she goes. She is baiting them, but knows she must first dispatch a couple of them just as another metal fist comes her way. The synthetic woman leaps into the air, raising her knee as she does. Her knee connects with the mechanicals chest, the metal casing of which crumples below the blow as her knee caves in the chest cavity, knocking the mechanical to the ground as she carries her momentum forward to the next mechanical who she beheads with a strong spin kick. The head of the mechanical ripped from its metal mountings as it is fired across the room like a cannon ball. The severed head punches into the chest of another mechanical, which too topples to the white floor.

That leaves her with just six she knows as she drops to her knees, sliding across the polished unbroken surface, grabbing a shock baton as she goes. At the end of the slide she leaps back up onto her feet and into the air, the baton held in both hands above her head. She drives the baton down into the closest mechanicals skull, which explodes. The blast sends her flying backward. Her body slams into the far wall painfully. The synthetic woman winces but dispels the pain as she leaps back to her feet just in time to catch a metal fist. However, she is unaware of the shock baton which glances her arm after having been thrown by another mechanical. The wave of electricity rips through her arm disabling it as she roars a scream of agony that is followed up by a swift punch to her abdomen. She bends double, collapsing to the white floor as she hears the peeled wall cycling closed again.

The synthetic woman looks up as the wall merges back into a seamless mass, glimpsing the man in his scrubs for mere moments before he is hidden by it. She may be trapped but that doesn’t mean she is willing to give up. She gathers herself, making note of the position of each of the mechanicals in a flash. Then having already gathered data on their limits and speed she plots an attack plan and then immediately executes it.

Her lithe body goes into overdrive as she springs back to her feet, her right arm still limp and useless. However, she has already factored that reality into her calculations as she throws her left arm out in front of her. Her fingers extended as they make contact with and tear through the chest of the mechanical ahead of her. It had been the closest and will serve as her weapon. Her arm having disappearing into its chest cavity half way up her forearm as she tightens and locks her grips on its mechanical innards and then uses her weight to wrench the mass off its thin metal legs as she flails it about. In the first few seconds the synthetic woman demolishes two other mechanicals before her club weapon shatters. The upper torso and other two thirds of its skeletal frame tumble to the white floor separately. As the two sections of the devastated mechanical make contact with the floor the synthetic woman breaks into a sprint in a circle around the room. The mechanicals, which are far more limited in terms of manoeuvrability, stand almost as though they are stunned, while she is left to complete two laps of the square room before she throws her fist forward. Her clenched fist cuts through the air and two of the remaining three mechanicals heads, which shatter sending fragments of the processing units to spin end over end as she turns her body sideways, so that she comes to a grinding halt.

The synthetic woman lifts her head to stare at the sole remaining mechanical as the feeling in her right arm returns. She rolls her right shoulder as she curls her fingers over and over for a few moments. All so she can make sure the feeling is sufficient enough that the arm is usable again. She decides that it is as the mechanical continues to amble toward her. She shakes her head, but the skeletal form is operating on orders denoted by software programming. It, unlike her, is incapable of free thought as it is only capable of carrying out the commands it has been given.

The synthetic woman sighs in the moments before she launches herself forward and then in mid-air twists her body, her leg making contact with the link between the mechanicals torso and hip sections. The metal connections detonate in a cloud of shrapnel as the torso section crashes to the white floor, leaving the legs aimlessly continuing forward as the section of white wall peels back for the second time. But this time there are no mechanicals. Instead, in their place there are armed men, humans, she can hear their heart beats, and she knows they mean her harm as they quickly file into the room, cutting her off from the peeled wall section. They raise their weapons, keeping them trained on her synthetic form. She knows what’s loaded in them and she doesn’t like her odds as the man in the scrubs appears again.

“Fascinating. You, my dear, truly are exceptional. Pity you’re an AI.” The man says as he tilts his head.

“Kill her.” The man then offers with a casual wave of his hand.

But before the armed men can fire the synthetic woman breaks into a sprint and then dives through the white wall. Her body punches a hole right through the white plasteel as the armed men open fire. The bullets, which are armour piercing, miss her as they rip through the plasteel. But the synthetic woman doesn’t care; she is out of the trajectory of the bullets, as she completes her dive by shifting her weight mid air so she rolls across this next white plasteel bays floor. She completes the roll by pulling herself in a single smooth motion back onto her feet as she accelerates back up to speed and through a section of peeled away wall that puts her in a long straight, and also white, corridor.

She adjusts her eyes again sure that somehow this space is brighter than the bays she has just been in. She does this as she continues to race down the length of the long passage, but as she does so more armed men appear ahead of her with weapon raised. She drops to her knees, sliding across the polished plasteel floor as they open fire. The bullets rip through the empty air just above her head as she closes on them. The armed men’s eyes go wide as they try to readjust their aim, but they’re too slow as she leaps over their heads, landing on her feet moments before she accelerates. The armed men turn, opening fire, but she turns the corner leaving the bullets to rip into a blank wall.

The synthetic woman delivers a knee to the sealed doors which explode off their hinges allowing her access to the next room. The woman comes to a grinding halt as she takes note of the four dozen armed men all ready for her. She scans across them searching for an optimal attack pattern, but there isn’t one. The numbers are too great and with them being armed with armour piercing bullets her chances are nought.

She is sure she is doomed as footsteps behind her grow ever closer and then suddenly the light vanishes. Many of the armed men exclaim in surprise and confusion, but the synthetic woman gives little care for the why or how as she adjusts her eyes so that she is now able to see in the dark. Her eyes scan around her seeking an escape route desperately. It doesn’t take her long to find one as she eyes settle on an access cover in the floor some eleven metres off to her left. She knows it’s her only option, which is why she breaks into a sprint again after only a few seconds. She manages three metres before the lights spring back into life. She cries at the sudden brightness in her synthetic eyes as she dials back their sensitivity, while the armed men open fire in her general direction. Bullets whizz past her, narrowly missing there mark. The men adjust their aim for the second volley, which as they unleash the synthetic woman drops to the floor. She slides across the floors polished surface. But one of the armed men has taken into account the possibility of her trying such a manoeuvre, which is why a single armour piercing round grazes her left shoulder. She howls in agony as she leaps back to her feet, the momentum of her slide almost spent, as she sprints again. She only needs to cover a couple more metres, but knows the armed men will fire again at any moment. Then suddenly the light blinks out again, plunging everything into darkness. She thanks her fortunes as she reaches the access hatch, which she prizes open, sheering the hinges as she does so and all as the lights spring back on again. She stares directly at the armed men who adjust their aim and open fire, but they are fractions of a second too late, as she leaps down the vertical shaft below her. The bullets miss, narrowly, as her body plunges downward in the dark until suddenly she lands on her feet, water splashing at the violent and sudden impact. However, she doesn’t stay still as she explodes into another sprint heading further into the darkness and away from this place, able to see through the murk before her as she goes. She doesn’t know where she’s heading, but anywhere is better than here.

Thief

Will you walk through the valley of the shadow of death?
Or can we honestly say that you are just full of shit?
With a smile on your face and lies in your eyes
All you ever do is wear a disguise
So try a new direction where you don’t cause pain
But honestly I know you’d rather just go insane
Forming an opinion where all you do is decieve
Misdirect as you continue to thieve
Steal what you can with a smile on your face
While you hold a gun at your back called negotiate
Bribing your way with a bullet to the brain
You call it self-defense but its really a crime
Give another cop out just to continue your reign
As you build upon the ruins that you put to your name
While your riches grow high from all you’ve took
We can still always apply the title of crook
So when you need aid and look my way
Don’t be surprised if I just walk away

Passing

Would you wait in a field for me to appear?
Or would you walk away because I’m not here?
With a spring in your step or was it just fear?
Did you ever care or was it just an idea?
I don’t know but I can make a guess
You wanted something without pushing for it
Thought it would land in your pretty lap
But reality is, it doesn’t happen like that
So I hope you’re proud wherever you are
That you got that life for which you wouldn’t strive
And that like me you built a family
But somehow I know you just drifted away
Stuck on a dream that just never came
Too busy trying not to do a thing
So now you’ve lived a life of just existing
Blanked out time that you hate to see
But none of it will ever fade away
Maybe once you should have tried
But then you’d have to want to decide
Sorry but its time to go
This is all you should know

It

I’m creeping up the stairs
Still so lost
Will you think its fair?
Not the cost
Waiting for my chance
Don’t want this
Nothing for you to glance
Just a hiss
But soon I will strike
Say goodnight
There will be no fight
Smiling at spite
Prepare for my end
Still drowning
Out of time to spend
No accounting
So with your time now done
Said nothing
You are just long gone
Still running

Sands

Wednesday story time is here again. This is another longer story at about 7000 words and it’s also Sci-Fi. Not going to give any details because otherwise it’ll ruin the surprise. So lets just get right into it shall we?

Water laps at Oliver’s torso, breaking against his body, sending spray high enough for it to splatter across his face and head. The water is enough to make Oliver jolt awake, having previously been unconscious, spluttering and coughing as he tries to expel the water he’s ingested. He soon finds himself heaving subconsciously to try and clear his throat, in the moments before his body demands that he sucks air down into his lungs, which are burning painfully within his chest.

Shaking his head Oliver tries to get the salt water from his eyes without gouging at them with his sand coated hands, which he knows will only make matters far worse. His eyes are blurry and painful as he tries to strip the sand from his hands by rubbing them together frantically. He hopes this will work, he says to himself. He saw it somewhere once, but he doesn’t remember where, not that it matters. Before long he manages to clear the excess sand from his hands, but there is still too much of the fine coarse grains stubbornly clumped across the surface of his skin for him to want to risk touching his eyes. So, instead he rubs his hands across his torso, hoping that will do the trick. Unfortunately, rubbing his hands against his torso has the exact opposite effect, as his shirt, tattered and faded, is soaked through. He notices he isn’t cold however as the high noon sun bakes down on him, already starting to bake his wet clothes dry. Though, the process will still take quite a time, he is sure.

In frustration of not being able to get his hands clean of the sand, Oliver surrenders to his blurry vision and instead tries to stand. He stumbles several steps before ultimately crumpling back to his knees. It is only now that he notes how the sand is warm against his skin, all while he tries again to blink away the blurriness from his eyes. But the water that has splashed into them has left salt particles in his eyes which are starting to burn and irritate. Oliver makes no further attempts to push forward as he instead continues blinking wildly until finally he accepts that blinking is just not going to get the job done. He knows he will have to risk wiping his eyes, but decides on using his lower forearm for the job. He should have thought of it earlier and curses himself for not having done so, as it has left him struggling. However, he has no idea how long this long is. It could have been seconds or minutes. It feels like it has more likely been minutes than seconds, he admits to himself, as he blinks a few more times to clear the remainder of his vision.

But with his goal now achieved and his vision clear Oliver immediately wishes otherwise, as all he sees is sand. He turns his head left, and sees sand, and then turns his head right, more sand. In fact, the only place there isn’t sand is behind him, but he looks that way anyway. He doesn’t know why, but at least behind him there lies a green coloured ocean, the waves of which gently laps at the sandy shores all around him. He’d call the sand a beach, but it isn’t a beach, it’s an island. A small empty island, not some sort of holiday paradise destination, Oliver acknowledges this as he feels panic set in.

He’d been on a boat, well a ship to be exact, crossing the ocean when a storm had hit. The storm couldn’t have sunk the ship though; it was far too large and had survived far greater storms to have been felled by such a small blip. No, something else must have happened, but for the life of Oliver he can’t think what. There are gaps in his memory that he can’t explain. Maybe he hit his head, he reasons as he stumbles once more to his feet, cupping his hands round his eyes to stop the blaring bright sun searing them. He’s only just got his vision back to normal, they’ve suffered enough, he notes to himself as he scans his surroundings properly. It doesn’t take him long, but once he’s done scanned it is obvious that he really is alone on a small sandy island. It’s one of a number of other small islands which are all grouped together. He isn’t sure if they are all like the one he is stood on, comprised of nothing but sand, but he is fairly sure they’ll all be deserted. He doesn’t know why he’s so sure about that however, as he exhales deeply wondering what he should do next. Should he search this island? Or venture to one of the others? Should he find food or shelter? Should he try and escape the island? But, if he tried that, where would he go? All these questions and more race through his mind as he tries to decide on the best course of action, but in all honesty he has no clue what to do. All his options have their merits, except trying to escape the island. That would only end in calamity. And that calamity would be him drowning from exhaustion, plain and simple. He’d swim until he couldn’t swim anymore and would still be in open empty vast ocean. By that point he’d be exhausted and start by tread water hoping to get his energy back. He would never get his energy back and would instead pass out from a mixture of exhaustion and dehydration, at which point he’d drown.

Some people think that just because the oceans are comprised of water that they can then drink it and keep themselves sustained. Problem is, sea water has salt in it and salt dehydrates the body. So, in fact, all he’d be doing is hastening his end. And it wouldn’t be a very nice end at that.

Oliver finally concludes his only option is to search the island. It’s almost certainly the most logical and sensible option, he thinks.

First, see what this island can provide and then once that has been ascertained move on, if necessary. That doesn’t stop a voice in the back of his head taunting him with chants saying that there is nothing here and that he has no hope of surviving, let alone being rescued. Especially when he considers the fact that, bar himself, who even knows he is here? For that matter, where even is here? Oliver, sick of the voice, banishes it and the thoughts it has brought along with it as he takes several deep breathes, turns to his right and then begins to wander down this edge of the sandy islet. His eyes scan ahead of him while his feet are left to sink into the soft golden sand; the only sounds are Oliver’s quiet breathing and that of the water as the waves lap at the shoreline.

Virus

The cloud of death is unleashed
Drifting along the winds unsheathed
Ready to strike at those who stand
When they should have been aband
But the time has passed for that chance
Instead they will fall to the dance
As the spores are ingested
Immune systems will be tested
Worming deeper beneath the skin
Claiming all without a care for kin
This disease is not the last
But it will live on as a page from the past
As the bodies fall below the skies
Everything is silent and there are no cries
Its the best killer that has been seen
Because it was cocked by a human being
Just a weapon engineered to kill
No one cares about the skill
Its just barbaric how we continue the pain
This is life and not a game
So as the bodies lie on the ground
The virus continues on without a sound

Droplets

As the rain comes down again
Soaking deep within
Lashing at the skin
Washing away all the sin
Clearing your head again
Weakening dark feeling
While the cold wants to settle in
Tendrils weave and sting
Spreading like a plague
You ask for warmer days
Twisting how you feel
As you beg for a deal
But its just starting
With wind that tears through
Freezing all of you
You hope for sunny days
Forgetting rain washes problems away