February 12, 2012

From “Traumatic Departure” by Aileen Iverson Minimoto

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“We’ve…well, we’ve all become a bit concerned about you. All this talk of going out with Jeremy, of doing stuff with Jeremy…it’s not healthy.”

“I know you don’t like him,” Marybeth hissed. “You’ve never liked him. But that’s no reason not to let me make my own decisions!”

The people gathered in the living room exchanged uneasy glances, and Marybeth thought she could hear a furtive whispering. “Well, you’re right that maybe, perhaps, we weren’t as welcoming of Jeremy as we could have been, at the beginning,” Aunt Roberta coughed. “But I hardly think that’s the point now.”

“Then what is the point?” countered Marybeth. “I’m meeting him later tonight, and unless you want to lock me in my room, I’m going.”

“That’s enough,” barked Uncle Richard. “I’ve had it with all this pussyfooting around. It’s time to cut through the bullshit.”

“No, Rich,” Dad said. “We discussed this, we need to break things carefully-”

His brother cut him off. “Marybeth, Jeremy is dead. He’s been dead for six months, and you talking about him like he’s alive is creeping all of us right out.”

 

February 11, 2012

From “Earthmother Hall” by Gale H. Klosowski

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“I’m proud to say that the design process had full investment in the sociocultural impact of modern university construction,” said SMU professor of engineering and urban planning Veronica Chatham. “Earthmother Hall is fully conscious of the implications of its layout in social justice terms, as well–something that less progressive engineers often overlook entirely. For instance, it’s oriented with windows facing south-southeast–toward the poorest section of town–and north-northeast–toward the campus wetlands endangered by new stadium construction.”

“My students and I were less interested in the engineering details of the building’s and construction than their implications for the wider planet,” Chatham continued. “I’m proud to say that all our construction personnel earned a living wage, and that all components were sustainably sourced even though it tripled the cost of certain aspects of fabrication. Earthmother Hall is designed to biodegrade naturally over the course of its useful lifespan and leave ruins that will be useful a a habitat for endangered local animals.”

Earthmother Hall, formerly Wildermann Hall, was constructed by Dr. Chatham and a team of her students with a bequest from the late Gloria Wildermann, widow of engineering professor George Wildermann. The ribbon cutting, attended by many Southern Michigan University luminaries, was held early last year. “We had the land blessed by a representative of the Ojibwone nation, who are the rightful owners of the land, and a geomancer from Chungking who is among the rightful owners of the land on the opposite side of the planet,” said Chatham of the ceremony.

When asked about the various allegations that had been raised about the structure before its collapse last week–student and faculty complains of subsidence, leaks, blinding light at sunrise and sunset, and an internal layout with no bathrooms above the second floor–Dr. Chatham was dismissive. “Unfortunately, reactionary thinkers are always an impediment to progressive design,” she remarked. “After all, we created conditions of fear and uncertainty that most of our privileged white students and instructors have never felt but which afflicts fully two-thirds of the world’s population.”

 

February 10, 2012

From “Raw Feed” by Courtniee Kingsley-Marne

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“We have reports that the rebels have converted captured Swedish-made Ordssun air-defense guns and missiles into siege weaponry,” Malianne said. The ground shook and the picture was distorted by digital artifacts for a moment.

“Malianne, are you still there?” Kenneth said. He broke his stare at the newsroom camera and glanced over his shoulder at the producer, concerned.

“…fine…ust another missile strike.” Malianne’s voice came through in patches as the picture resolved itself. “Another missile has landed nearby, near the market. Out government handler is telling us that we cannot go and see the area until rescuers have done their jobs.”

“What’s the mood like in the city right now?” Kenneth asked. “Do the people you’re seen think the government can hold the area?”

There was a pause as his comments traveled thousands of miles via satellite. “I’ve spoken to a lot of people both on and off the record, Kenneth,” she said. “No one seems to think that the government troops can hold off this latest attack for long.”

 

February 9, 2012

From “The Ducal Obsession” by Wallace J. Durboraw

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The Grand Duke turned inward after 1802, becoming more and more reclusive and eccentric. With 99% of his holdings swept away by the Napoleonic Wars, and the remaining tiny rump territory under French “protection,” Edjard IV began to obsess over those few things he could still control.

He instituted decrees to demolish any buildings that interfered with the strict line of sight and straight boulevards near his hold. His people were required first to count steps they took by twos, and then to always begin a journey with their right foot. Double locks were to be installed on all doors and checked five times daily.

Eventually, the Edjard IV’s obsessions found even stranger outlets. He began hoarding items in the ducal hold, chiefly hunks of quartz or granite. Citizens who turned in suitable stones were rewarded from the treasury, while those found to be in possession otherwise were executed–even if the stones were loadbearing members of a house.

The Ducal Guard were most directly affected, as by 1806 their livery had changed 19 times and their drill 103. Edjard was preoccupied with finding a uniform style and marching pattern that would, as he wrote, “cover every corner of the courtyard with every color.” Surviving depictions of the last, 1806, livery show a rainbow of brightly clashing diagonal stripes and saltires, and accounts from former Ducal Guards indicate that the garment took nearly an hour to don (with assistance) and was so bulky as to inhibit the very precision Edjard’s complex marches demanded.

It’s not surprising, then, that the Guard “found” the Grand Duke crushed beneath a pile of his own stones in December 1806. The local French commander, unsurprisingly, quietly arranged for the last ducal holdings to be annexed while pensioning off the remainder of the Guard.

 

February 8, 2012

From “The God of Counterclockwise Ash Raking” by Nellie H. Kopfhoerer

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The islanders, due to their isolation, had developed a pantheon quite distinct from their nearest neighbors and quite unlike anything else in Polynesia. Unfortunately, the last full-blooded islander had died in 1937 and social pressures had prevented the handing down of the traditional tales by any of his kinfolk.

An anthropologist had interviewed the islander, known as Georges, the year before he died and recorded the exchange on acetates. For better or worse, though, Georges was an inveterate prankster and Dr. Hewes was utterly credulous. So, while scholars agree that the resulting cosmology is a mixture of real stories passed down through generations and Georges having fun at the expense of his guest, no one is sure which is which.

Roakoanton, the god of fire embers raked in a counterclockwise direction, is probably made up. Likewise Koantuatuana, who Georges claimed was a powerful goddess that only aided women who had lost great-uncles to shark attacks. But what of Rotpota, said to be the essential god of outrigger canoe lashings? Or Koatpotaea, a spirit Georges said carefully controlled the islanders’ shellfish harvest in line with her own inscrutable motives?

No wonder, then, that relatives say that when Georges died–shortly after the first copies of Hewes’ book reached him–he died laughing.

 

February 6, 2012

From “Bramblebraid Rising” by G. Carolin Bloum

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“You remember crazy old Mrs. Smiley?”

“Oh, how could I forget her? Total name-personality mismatch. She used to scream at us if we ever got near those shrubs of hers. Remember how we used to see her out there trimming them with scissors?”

“Well, she came up in my docket today. Her family is trying to get her committed so they can seize her assets.”

“That’s…that’s kind of terrible actually. She was a mean old coot but she never hurt anybody. What’s their reasoning?”

“According to the affadavit, she swears that her hedgerow is the above-ground portion of a sentient and dangerous plant being she calls Bramblebraid, and by grooming it and keeping others away she is protecting the entire street from its depredations.”

 

February 5, 2012

From “Jelly Taxed” by Aaron Carmichel Rubbins

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Tellytaxt Gallery, 115 E. Main, 11:47am.

“Tellytaxt? What’s that mean–name of the founder?”

“Oh no, heavens no. The gallery was founded by Emile Delecroix and Pierre Richat in 1948. They came up with the name as a nonce word that was free of overt philological baggage.”

“Doesn’t sound baggage-free to me. What would you say, Smitty? A tax on limey televisions?”

“A text on Telly Savalas.”

“Maybe a jelly used in taxidermy.”

“That’s quite enough, officers. Do you want to see the break-in, or are you content to play your childish games with concepts you don’t fully grasp?”

 

February 4, 2012

From “Waking the World” by Annette Florence Pollington

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The world, all its creatures and aspects, began in a deep sleep.

Some say that the world had been brought forth by a powerful Shaper. Saddened by the actions of its creations, the Shaper had put them to sleep and withdrawn from the spheres of mortal ken.

Others maintain that the world has always been, and that it periodically falls into cycles of sleep and wakefulness. The sleep at the dawn of memory was therefore only the latest in a neverending cycle.

Still others claim that the sleep was an illusion, and that rather than waking the world was created. That doesn’t fully explain the actions of the Wakeful One, of course, but each of the theories has their own weaknesses.

What is clear–part of the collective memory of every living and unliving thing in the world–is that the Wakeful One was the first to rise, and that through toil and hardship on its part the rest of the world was awakened and made lively once more. It was with great sorrow that, at the end of its adventures, the Wakeful One revealed that eventually there would be another sleep. As a counterbalance to the wakefulness it had brought into the world, the Wakeful One would return to set the sleep in motion once more.

 

February 3, 2012

From “The Larva Toll” by Eula T. Aual

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“Here,” the Klrkrr guard clicked, “swallow this.” The medallion around its neck translated its chittering into words that mammals like Jo could understand, but did little to explain the small white wriggling worm being thrust at her.

“I’m…sorry?” Jo said. “You want me to eat this?”

“Not eat!” The guard’s agitated clicking was translated into mammalian yelling. “Swallow! Chew on it and you will answer to me!”

Jo picked up the worm and looked helplessly at Mar.

“It’s a larva toll,” Mar said. “Klrkrr larvae need to gestate in a living host after hatching. Don’t worry; it’ll settle in your stomach or bowels and eat some of your food and suck a little of your blood. Nothing serious.”

“And then burst out of me when it’s ready to pupate!” Jo gagged.

“Oh no. They’ll remove it when you leave their lands and transfer it to some livestock. Serves to get the little ones off to a good start and simultaneously limit the amount of time you spend in Klrkrrdrwn.”

 

February 2, 2012

From “3,381 Years” by Jared E. Pearlug

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“He wasn’t superstitious, so in the battle for the fairgrounds his unit sent him in to flush snipers out of a house of mirrors. Did it with an antitank mine and shattered every pane of glass for a thousand yards in every direction. 3,381 years of bad luck in one go. Place got bombed to hell not long afterward, so there’s no chance of going back to grind the mirrors up to reverse the curse.”

“That seems a little harsh, don’t you think? It’s like when someone is sentenced to 500 years in prison–why not just say ‘for the rest of their life?'”

“Well, for one thing, the Major believes in reincarnation. Unless he comes back as a redwood or a Galapagos tortoise, there’s an awful lot of lifetimes between himself and the end of his bad luck run.”

 

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