A quick cyberpunk. Not something I've read much of, but the idea struck, and I felt I had to run with it. I'm pleased with how it turned out. Tina held her hood to her head, fighting against the wind that wanted to push it away so that she could be even more the victim of the merciless rain. It was cold, and the night was dark with few stars in the sky, though the neon landscape meant that it was never completely dark.
She looked down at the streets, her rifle on the rooftop next to her. The rest of her team should have checked in by now – they were late. There hadn’t been any kind of alarm yet, but that didn’t stop her worry. She was tired, the concentration of staring through the rain taking its toll, and the later they got, the slower she was going to get if they needed her. Her phone vibrated and she risked taking a look. She had it blocked to all contacts outside her team, so any message must be from one of them. It wasn’t. She narrowed her eyes as she saw the screen: 1 new message – unknown sender. This should be impossible. She put the phone back in her pocket. It wasn’t her team, so it could wait. A minute passed. It vibrated again. She pulled it out and looked. 2 new messages – unknown sender. How was this happening? She pressed the screen, looking at the messages. “jooR T34M 12 1n TROU8L3. h3Lp tH3M.” “p4Y 4tt3NT1On. 1’M try1N’ TO h3lP U.” Tina quickly translated the Cityspeak messages, used frequently by runner crews as algorithms and artificial intelligences struggled to understand them. Could these it be true? Was her team in trouble? If so, why hadn’t they managed to get a message to her themselves, and who had managed to contact her? A third vibration. “7h15 15 7He C17Y.” Tina blinked and reread the message. The City? How was the City texting her? Another vibration. “s70p d4wdl1nG. 17 D0e2'n7 m477er. W0rRy 480U7 17 l47er, 4Nd gE7 M0V1nG.” She shook her head and wiped the rain from the screen of her phone. She didn’t like this. She didn’t understand what was happening. However, they were late. Not very late yet – there were always complications on jobs like this. She couldn’t deny that she’d already had a bad feeling about this, even before the strange messages though. She put her phone in her pocket and picked up the rifle, quickly folding it to be more surreptitious. Without waiting to let herself second-guess, she stepped off the building and fell to the street below. As she landed, splashing in the omnipresent puddles, her leg-gear bent and absorbed the shock. She set off running as quickly as her enhanced legs could carry her. She knew where her team had planned their entry point, so she would follow them in. Whilst she’d been guarding the intended exit, if they hadn’t managed to leave, she probably couldn’t enter that way. She turned through streets, largely ignored by the other people on them, all wrapped up in their own problems. She entered the alley where she knew she would find an old sewer entrance and was surprised to find somebody waiting there. He was big – and not naturally big. He looked like he’d been beefed up – and not with equipment, but with drugs. He was also covered in weapons, from a long knife and machete at his hips, a large underslung gun being balance by one hand, and a bandolier of grenades. She could see another couple of gun handles sticking out over his shoulders. Perhaps this guy was the trouble. Her phone buzzed again, and she saw from the man’s reactions that his must have done so too. Gingerly, neither wanting to trust the other too far, they both reached for the devices and looked. One new message – unknown sender. She clicked it open. “7H12 12 D02Er. j00 k4n 7rU57 h1m.” Tina looked back at the large man – Dozer – before her. He was looking back at her. “You Eagle-eye?” he asked, putting his phone back in his pocket. She nodded. “You must be Dozer?” He nodded. “I’m here to help you.” Tina raised an eyebrow. “Why? You don’t know me.” He shrugged. “The City asked, and I owe it a few. This way.” He moved out of the alley, back to the streets, away from the sewer entrance that Tina had planned to use, but she followed him. Once they were out on the streets, Tina saw that the rain seemed to slide from him. He clearly did have some tech, and good tech. Personal forceshields were expensive! “You often get texts from the City?” Tina asked as they moved, her enhanced legs easily able to keep up with Dozer’s longer gait. “All the time. You don’t?” Tina shook her head. “Well, let me be the first to welcome you to a whole new world, then.” “I don’t understand,” Tina answered. “What do you mean?” “Don’t worry – I know it takes some getting used to. Hell, I remember what it was like when I got my first message. If we walk away from this, I’ll try to explain it all. Just in case I don’t, all you need to know for now is that you’ve been invited to join the Network, and the City has our backs. Always.” Tina shook her head but forced herself to keep moving. For all of her frustration, if her team were in trouble, which she was starting to believe was the case, she didn’t have the time to stop and try to force more information from Dozer. If she even could. “Where are we going?” she asked. “Back to Halcyon,” Dozer answered. “Your team don’t have time for you to go crawling through sewers. They’re outmanned, and outgunned, and if Halcyon’s security goons find the thumb drive they’re using to give your hacker access… well, you know what will happen then.” Tina gulped. She did indeed know what would happen then. Halcyon was very security conscious – to the point that they didn’t have their main networks connected to the outside world. The only way for Drift, her team’s hacker, to get in had been for Alibi, their face, to sneak in and insert a thumb drive to act as a temporary wireless entry point. But if that was removed before Drift was out of the system, his mind would be permanently disconnected from his body. “So, what’s the plan? We can’t get in the front door.” She didn’t care anymore if this was some kind of trick, or trap. The threat to Drift was far greater than death – she’d risk her own life to protect him from that. Dozer led her round to the side of the building, away from the streets. “The old-fashioned way. Get ready.” As Dozer removed one of the explosives from his bandolier and attached it to the wall, Tina widened her eyes, stepped back as far as she could, and drew out her rifle, extending it into shotgun rather than her preferred longer-range option. This was going to need the work to be much more up-close and personal. Dozer stepped back from the explosive and smiled at her. She found herself smiling back. This did have a refreshing simplicity to it. A few seconds later, she saw the explosive flash and looked away for the actual detonation. The loud noise would soon draw problems – Halcyon’s security and, probably, city police. She looked back at the wall and found that a large chunk of it wasn’t there anymore. Dozer was already stepping through, his largest gun ready to fire when necessary. “You get any messages, let me know to cover you and answer them,” he said. “The City might need to update us.” As Tina followed him, her phone buzzed again and, giving Dozer the head’s up, she checked it. “1 k4N K33P 73H p0L1C3 4w4Y PH0r 20 m1Nu73S. 1'm s3Nd1n' j00 4 M4p - PH0ll0W 17.” She looked and a map had, as promised, downloaded. She checked it and saw a layout of the Halcyon building, with directions to take. She looked up, trying to marry up the room that she could see with the layout now on her phone screen. She saw the door they needed to take and was about to point it out to Dozer when a different door opened, and Halcyon’s goons rushed in. There were four of them, each wearing the typical helmets and vests of low-value rent-a-cops. Dozer looked at them and opened fire – they had probably fallen before they even realised what they were up against. “This way,” Tina said, moving towards the door that she had already identified. He nodded, following her backwards to keep an eye on the room behind them. More cheap goons appeared from corridors, but Tina’s reflexes were quick, and her shotgun shells took them down in quick order. She knew that they couldn’t keep this up though – eventually, Halcyon would send in their big guns. Tina followed the map, ending up at a room filled with computer screens and databanks. She looked round, wondering why they were here. Dozer took up position in the doorway, giving her time to investigate. Nothing sensitive would be in a room like this – it wasn’t even close to sufficiently guarded. Similarly, she very much doubted that she would be able to deactivate security or anything else useful either. She picked up her phone, feeling it vibrate in her hand. “su8R0Utin32 3Ss3ntI4l pH0r iC3 rUn tHr0u9H H3r3. D3sTr0y tH3M.” She read the message again, certain that she’d made a mistake. Surely, a corporation like Halcyon, as security conscious as they were, would have access to their ICE software so easily accessed. She risked a reply to the text – just a short one. “h3R3?” Her phone buzzed as the reply came in. “y32. 1'V3 K0n74C73D dr1F7. H3 H42 m4d3 S0m3 ch4N932 PHR0m 1nS1D3.” “What’s the hold up?” Dozer asked over his shoulder. “The messages say that the ICE subroutines run through here,” she replied. “That if we destroy these machines, it will all fail, which should let my hacker get out.” “ICE?” he asked, still not looking into the room. “Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics.” He nodded. “Take my place then Eagle-eye. I’ll light the room up.” She nodded back, moving into the doorway. Dozer’s explosives would be far more efficient than anything she had for this. As she moved into position, she saw a couple more guards running towards them. Quickly. No longer the cheaper security they’d faced already, these two were clearly enhanced. One was running along a wall towards them, and the other made Dozer look small as he charged down the middle of the corridor. She gulped. She might be able to take the smaller one, but she didn’t think her shotgun was going to do much to the larger one. She had to stay in the doorway though. Tina opened fire, aiming for the wallrunner. If she could take him out, that might at least give the bigger one pause. However, he moved too quickly, shifting between walls and ceiling and avoiding her shots. She took a moment to look behind her, taking one of the grenades from Dozer’s bandolier whilst he worked on setting up the explosives for the room. Tina leapt into the air, letting her powerful legs rocket her to the ceiling. She might not be able to stick to it as her opponent could, but her rapid movement still clearly caused both of them to be surprised. She fired at the wallrunners feet, causing him to jump. That was when he was vulnerable – more used to being connected to something than being in mid-air, he now couldn’t manoeuvre. She fired again, shells hitting him directly in the chest and forcing him to the floor where he lay still. Tina kept up her leap, angling in the air to push off again from a wall where she set the explosive and then, landing behind the larger guard, stuck it to his back. She dove back, and the twin explosions of both her grenade and the room sounded together. When the smoke cleared, both guards were down and Dozer was walking out of the ruined room. She checked her phone, expecting a message and wasn’t surprised. “goOD work. dr1Ft 12 OUt. phOlLoW T3H m4p TO R35CU3 4l181 4ND tW1n5hot.” She swiped and saw that the map had updated. The phone buzzed again as another message came through. “8e reaDY. 7hey R P1nNed d0wN.” “OK,” she said, looking between Dozer and the map in her hand. “We’re done here. Be ready – apparently my last two friends are pinned down.” Dozer smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Eagle-eye. I’m always ready. Let’s move.” The two of them ran through corridors, alarms blaring around them. Clearly the defeat of the guards and the disruption of the ICE software had set something off. They barrelled into a room and dove for cover behind an upturned desk. Tina risked a look out. She could see where her two friends were pinned down, and from the blood pooling around their cover, it looked like at least one of them was hit. Dozer got her attention and pointed towards where the guards crouched and pushed a medpack into her hand. Tina nodded in understanding and held up three fingers. As she finished the countdown, Dozer opened fire, drawing the attention of the guards whilst Tina ran for Alibi and Twinshot. She dove behind the desk, seeing that it was Alibi that was on the ground bleeding. She flashed Twinshot a smile and started to remove equipment from the medpack. “What are you doing in here?” Twinshot asked, pausing only for a moment before shooting back at the guards again. “And who is your friend?” Tine tore off some RegenBand with her teeth, giving a grunt. Starting to apply it to Alibi’s wounds, she looked up at Twinshot again. “I got a tip off that you were in trouble. Don’t worry about where it was from – I’ll explain later. He’s Dozer – he’s giving me a hand.” Twinshot nodded, never one to question good fortune. Alibi’s wound was severe, but he was still breathing, and so the RegenBand should quickly fix him up. She crushed some Bloodflow pills and poured the powder onto his tongue, encouraging his body to replace the blood it had lost. This was an impressive medpack, but Tina realised that she shouldn’t be surprised. Dozer was clearly a wealthy man to have the gear she’d seen – this was just one more example. With that, the noise stopped. Dozer was walking over, guns lowered to appear less of a threat – as if he could ever appear not to be a threat. All of the guards were down. She checked her phone. They’d used twelve of their twenty minutes. The map had already updated itself. Dozer glanced at her handiwork at tending to Alibi, and then looked at Twinshot, offering a hand to shake. “Dozer,” Tina said, scanning the room for the appropriate exit again. “Can you carry Alibi?” The big man nodded and picked up her injured friend. “This way!” She ran off, leaving Twinshot and Dozer to follow her. They moved through a circuitous route, and Tina started to worry. They didn’t have long to run around Halcyon’s building, but it seemed that whoever was handling the map knew what they were doing. They managed to avoid all guards – she suspected that all of them had either fled or routed towards the areas where they had set off explosions – and they reached their original exit point with a couple of minutes to spare. The four of them disappeared into the alleyways and were long gone before the police arrived. Later, when the police response had died down, Alibi had recovered, and they’d had a chance to check on Drift, they all met up in Dexter’s, one of their preferred bars. “As I said to Eagle-eye earlier,” Dozer started, once they all had their drinks, “welcome to the Network. Before you ask, I have no idea who sends the messages.” Tina had taken the time to explain to her crew what had happened, and they’d been just as confused as her. Drift had taken the time to do some research. “I’ve read around the ‘net,” Drift said, sipping at his drink. “All that I can find is people saying that the City has their back.” Dozer smiled and raised his glass. “And that’s all you’ll find. Sometimes the City helps us out. Sometimes it asks for us to repay it. The important thing to know is that it’s on our side. The City always has our backs.”
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A short little story about a first date - or, really, the lead up to that date. It's a competition entry with the brief of the first date, and it had to include Merlot. Content Warning - the story features postnatal depression. When Terry awoke, he knew it was going to be a difficult day – Valentine’s Day had been for the last few years. He lay in bed, listening to the radio play, trying to forget the date and enjoying the last few minutes that he would have to himself.
Surely enough, the bedroom door opened, and Chelsea padded in. He looked over at his six-year-old daughter and smiled. She ran over, jumping on the bed and throwing her arms around his neck in a massive hug. He hugged her back and they wished each other a good morning. Chelsea slipped down onto the bed beside him and reached for the TV remote. Terry smiled at her and helped, passing it to her, before getting up to make coffee. He brought it back to bed, by which time Chelsea had chosen something to watch. He could ignore whatever it was. They settled in to watch, but before too long the doorbell rang. Chelsea moved to pause the TV, but Terry waved to her that it wasn’t necessary, and he went to answer the door. Stood a few paces back was a deliveryman, mask in place, and taking a photograph to confirm that he’d done his job. He gave Terry a quick wave, and then rushed back to his van. Terry looked down at the doorstep and picked up the box that was there. He took it to the kitchen, in no great rush to return to the TV upstairs. Opening it, he was surprised to find a bottle of wine – Merlot, his favourite. Confused, Terry looked through the packaging but was unable to find any indication of who had sent it. He checked the delivery address and confirmed that he was the correct recipient. He smiled and put it to the side for later, at the end of the day when Chelsea was back in bed. He tapped out a quick query on his social media accounts, asking if any friends had sent it and returned to his bedroom. Soon, the two of them would need to get up and start their day. There was precious little to do. Most of the activities that he would normally take Chelsea out to do were closed due to the pandemic, but he’d worked hard to find things to keep her occupied. They drove out to some nearby woods and spent a few hours walking, talking about nothing, and playing Pooh Sticks when they came to bridges. A picnic in the woods made an excellent lunch for the young girl, followed by play in the park. Chelsea had an active imagination, and Terry followed her lead for play. It was exhausting for him to keep up with her, but he had to keep her busy. He couldn’t face the question again, that day of all days, about why she couldn’t see her mother anymore. She’d asked before, and Terry had tried to answer. It had been difficult, and he’d not been able to do so fully. How could you tell a three-year-old that her mother had left because looking after that three-year-old had been too difficult? Postnatal depression had hit Judith hard and, despite his attempts to help, she had eventually walked out of their lives. He didn’t know where she had gone – her parents had refused to tell him. He missed her every day. He hadn’t been able to explain that to a four-year-old or a five-year-old either, and he was dreading the day the six-year-old would ask again. By the time they returned home, Chelsea was exhausted, and Terry put her in the bath. Whilst she played in the water, he checked his social media. Nobody was admitting to having sent the Merlot, but it made him smile to think that somebody was thinking of him. It was quite nice to have received an anonymous Valentine’s present – it made him feel like a teenager again. He went to put a pizza in the oven for Chelsea’s dinner, and then went to help her wash her hair and get her out of the bath. He was going to worry about his dinner after she was in bed – and he’d now have the wine to enjoy with it. By the time that he had Chelsea in bed, Terry was as tired as she was, and he was very glad that his evening plans included an easy takeaway rather than cooking. He went to open the wine so that it could breathe and picked up his phone to choose a meal, and there was a knock on the door. Surprised, he went to answer it to find another delivery – this time a meal from a local restaurant. Terry queried the delivery with the driver but, like the wine, it was correct. He waved a thank you to the driver and took it to the kitchen. His phone rang and he picked it up, looking at the screen and almost dropping it in surprise. It showed Judith’s face – a face that he hadn’t seen in more than three years. Nervously, almost reverently, he touched the screen to answer the videocall and her face, looking much as it always had, smiled at him and waved. Judith didn’t say anything. Terry didn’t say anything. Moments passed. “Has the meal arrived?” Terry was shocked into response by the sudden sound. “The meal?” Judith nodded. “I sent you dinner. It was supposed to arrive at eight.” Terry nodded back. “Yes. Dinner arrived. Thanks?” “And the wine?” Judith raised a glass, showing a red wine and, over her shoulder in the picture, he could see a similar bottle of Merlot to the one that he had received earlier that day. “That was from you too?” Terry sat down. Judith nodded, but then they both fell silent again. “It’s good to see you.” Again, Judith was the first to break the silence. “You too,” Terry replied. “This is… something of a surprise.” “I know,” Judith said, looking down rather than at him. “I’m sorry to spring this on you, but I was really nervous about calling you.” “That’s ok,” Terry said. “I can understand that. You’re looking good.” It was true – she looked rested, which was probably the biggest change from how he remembered her. She’d had trouble sleeping since the day Chelsea had been borne. At first, they’d simply put it down to Chelsea crying in the night and needing feeding, but even as the nights had calmed down, Judith had still never managed to sleep enough. Terry wasn’t sure over the phone screen, but he thought that she’d put makeup on as well. “Thanks.” Judith smiled and raised her eyes to look at him again. “I wanted to apologise to you. Not just for surprising you today, but for the last few years. I… well… I think you know how hard I was finding everything, and, at the end, I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I know that I shouldn’t have just left, but, at the time, I couldn’t do anything else. I hope you understand.” Terry nodded to her, slowly. “I’ve been getting help,” Judith continued. “I’m feeling much better than I was, and I wanted to talk to you. So, I sent you dinner and wine – I hope I remembered what you like! If you don’t want to, I’ll completely understand – you can just enjoy a good meal on me. But, if you’d like to talk… well, I’d like to think of this as a new first date, so that we can get to know each other again. I’ve changed over the last few years, and I’m sure you have.” “A first date?” Terry asked. “You want to get back together?” Judith nodded to him, and her eyes glistened on the screen. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or if it was just the glare of a light. “I’m not pushing anything,” Judith insisted. “I have no right to. But I miss you, and I miss Chelsea, but I don’t want to get her hopes up if things aren’t going to work out, and I didn’t know if you might have already moved on, or the two of you might hate me for leaving you… I just wanted to reach out and see if there could be a chance.” Terry smiled at her, and felt tears fill his own eyes. “It’s a date. I’m going to hang up so I can go freshen up, and then call you back from my laptop.” Judith smiled at him, looking so much as she used to that it almost broke his heart. Whatever help she’d been getting had turned her around. He gave her a wave and ended the call. Ten minutes later, Terry was freshly shaved, had changed into a shirt, had warmed his meal up and had poured himself a glass of the Merlot. He pressed the necessary controls on his laptop to call Judith back, and she answered within a couple of rings. She looked just as she had before, though tears had smudged her makeup. She was smiling though, and the smile reached her eyes. He raised his glass to her and saw her do the same. “To new beginnings,” he said. “To new beginnings,” she echoed and moved her glass towards the screen, as if to toast over the miles of distance between them. “I’m sure there is lots you’d like to know about the last few years. First though – please – how is Chelsea? I miss her so much.” Another competition entry, this one required a story about somebody who unexpectedly came into $20,000. The only stipulation was that it needed to feature a little black book somewhere. Tessa sat down towards the back of the bus. She’d had a long day at work, full of meetings and the never-ending feeling that her to-do list was getting longer not shorter. Meetings were so frustrating – she couldn’t get any work done during them, and she always left them with more work. She pulled out her phone, more to look busy and avoid being engaged by strangers in conversation than any real need. As she did so, she noticed the small black book that was tucked between her seat and the one next to her. She pulled it out and looked at it, noting the smooth moleskin cover, the attractive book-mark sticking out near the front. It must have slipped out of the pocket of whoever was sat in her seat earlier. It seemed to be of excellent quality – possibly even a cherished gift. She slipped the elastic aside, hoping for some kind of detail to allow her to identify the owner to return it. Flicking it open, she was surprised to see that many pages had been ripped out of the front, and even more surprised when she skimmed the first intact page and saw her name on it. Surely, it was a coincidence. She looked more closely at the page. It started with a date – 12th February. Briefly, Tessa assumed that it must be some kind of diary, but after a moment realised that that didn’t make sense – that was the current date. She read on, intrigued. 12th February Dear Tessa, Congratulations – you are about to be very lucky. You have come into possession of this book, and it can change your life. However, be sure to follow the rules – or it will move on to another holder. Rule 1. At the end of every day, rip the first page from the book. Rule 2. Never look further ahead than the current first page. Rule 3. Don’t let anybody else read the book. See – simple! Check each day and follow the advice given. To give you a taster, don’t bother to go on your date tonight – he isn’t turning up anyway. Go and get yourself a nice takeaway – you’ll meet somebody there who will be far better for you. Have fun – and remember to follow the rules. Tessa put the book down on her lap and looked straight ahead at the headrest in front of her. This must be some kind of trick? She reached to turn the page, but something stopped her. Reading that first page again, she noted the dozens of pages that had clearly already been ripped out. A third time. What if it wasn’t? Tessa closed the book and placed it in her handbag. Why not? She wasn’t particularly invested in tonight’s date – it was worth seeing if this was, somehow, for real. The hardest part of following the advice was deciding what kind of takeaway to get. Surely, only one of the options would have the person she was supposed to meet, but which one? The book didn’t provide any guidance. Eventually, Tessa decided that it probably didn’t matter. If this was real, then she should simply go with her instinct. If not, it didn’t really matter. There hadn’t been any reply to her message to cancel the date, so Tessa was tentatively hopeful. In the end, Tessa just left the flat and walked, waiting to see what caught her attention as she passed. She dressed better than the takeaway warranted, , selecting her newer jeans and a top that some friends had said particularly suited her, even spending time on makeup. Walking the street, she took in the various cooking smells, and eventually went into the Maharajah, a family-owned favourite. She knew all the staff in tonight, so presumably there weren’t going to be any surprises there. Food would apparently take about ten minutes, and she sat down to wait, picking up a magazine to try and pass the time. She was strangely nervous, and at the end of the page, she realised she had no idea what she’d read. Tessa kept touching the little book in her pocket, as if its presence made her less crazy, not more. She only noticed the next customer come in after her – another woman who looked a little younger than herself, with a dark pixie cut. As the woman placed her order, Tessa smiled; it was exactly the same as her own. Could this be the person the book had said she would meet? As the other woman sat down, Tessa lowered her magazine and smiled at her. The other woman smiled back. “You know,” said Tessa, holding eye contact and keeping her smile, “your order is exactly the same as mine.” The other woman cocked her head and laughed. “Wow,” she said. “What a coincidence.” She had a lovely laugh – the kind that made you want to laugh along too. “Are you in a hurry to get home?” Tessa asked, the book making her feel far bolder than normal. The woman shrugged. “I guess not. Why?” “Well, we’re both alone. I don’t know about you, but I’m here because I was stood up on a date. We could ask them to bring our meals to the restaurant, rather than to take away? I’m Tessa, by the way.” She reached out a hand to shake. The woman across from her widened her eyes for a moment, and then laughed again. “Why not.” She reached out her own hand to shake Tessa’s. “I’m Maggie.” Tessa woke up and smiled when she saw Maggie still sleeping next to her. A part of her couldn’t believe what had happened – she wasn’t usually like this! But they really had connected over dinner, and then one thing had led to another, and... She reached for the book on her nightstand, left there when she’d ripped the first page from it the night before, after Maggie had fallen asleep. She flicked to the new first page, excited to see what it might say. 13th February Dear Tessa, Hope you had a good evening. Today, you should place a bet. Southern Belle is 40:1 but will win. Put some money down. That was it – she closed the book again, and sidled out of bed, not wanting to disturb Maggie. She went downstairs to make coffee. Should she do this? Tessa had never gambled in her life – her parents had always drilled into her that she should only risk what she could afford to lose, and she’d never felt financially secure enough. And on a horse? Something she had absolutely no influence over? The book had been right about the previous evening. She’d never received any message from the abortive date, so it seemed that they hadn’t turned up. She’d met Maggie. Coincidence? She wanted to look ahead and see what other advice was coming, but she stopped herself. That would be against the rules, and she didn’t want to risk that yet. A part of her wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but then Maggie walked into the kitchen, stretching. Her short hair was messy, and she’d only pulled on her shirt from the previous night. Tessa smiled at her and nodded towards the coffee pot. Maggie smiled back, walked over and kissed her, and then went to pour herself some coffee. The two of them sat, silently, just watching each other, as they finished their drinks. Tessa found herself hoping there would be more mornings like this. “That’s better,” said Maggie, sighing as she put her cup down. “Any plans for today?” “I’m just trying to decide,” Tessa replied, looking through the fridge to find something to make for breakfast. “I’ve been given what might be a hot tip on a racehorse, but I’ve never gambled before. I’m not sure if I want to risk it.” “What are the odds?” Maggie perched herself on a chair, waiting for Tessa to finish in the fridge. “40 to 1.” Maggie whistled. “Long odds, but a good pay off if it comes in. Your source thinks it’s a winner?” Tessa nodded. “I don’t know though. It’s still a big risk.” She shrugged, and moved the conversation on to something hopefully more certain. “Dinner tonight?” Tessa was in the middle of cooking dinner when she had to pause to let Maggie in. Maggie was smiling and bouncy, giving Tessa a quick kiss as she entered. “Smells delicious!” Maggie said as she took her coat off and hung it over a chair. “You seem happy,” Tessa asked, following the other woman back towards the kitchen. “Why wouldn’t I be? Another excellent dinner that I haven’t had to cook. Another evening with you. What’s not to like?” Tessa looked at her closely. Her smile went up at one side, and her eyes sparkled. There was something else. “Out with it,” she said. Maggie reached into the pocket of the coat she’d removed and handed an envelope to Tessa. “Open it,” she said, in response to Tessa’s querying look. Tessa did so and found it full of money. “What’s this?” Tessa asked, still confused and being careful not to show any reaction until she knew more. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about her new possibly-girlfriend-but-they-hadn’t-talked-about-it-yet giving her what looked like thousands of dollars. Maggie clearly didn’t feel it was inappropriate at all as her grin became ever bigger. “I placed that bet that we were talking about this morning. You know – on Southern Belle. And she won. That’s half the winnings. I’ve got the other half. Seemed fair – I put my money on it, but it was your tip.” Tessa’s eyes widened and she started flicking through the money. “How much did you put down? There’s thousands in here!” Maggie walked over and took Tessa’s arms in her hands, making the other woman look up at her rather than down at the money. “There’s 20,000 in there, and I’ve got the same.” “I can’t believe it,” said Tessa. “Why did you do it – and with so much money?” Maggie kissed her. When she had drawn back, she said, “Well, after last night I thought you were probably quite lucky, and I was definitely feeling lucky, so I just went for it. If you get any other tips, you be sure to let me know.” After that, Tessa didn’t doubt the book. Every night she was careful to rip out the first page, waiting until Maggie was in the bathroom if she was staying over, which became more and more frequent. Tessa was always the earlier riser, and so checked her daily piece of advice every morning over her first coffee. The book changed her life. Every day, that little piece of advice made things that bit better than they had been in the morning. There were trains to avoid because of delays, lottery wins (none so big that they would arouse too much attention), and recommendations for jobs to apply for. Between the windfalls of money and better-paying jobs, she was able to live a life of luxury. It even provided advice for her ongoing relationship with Maggie – and every page was good advice. And she was always careful to follow the rules. It was a day much like any other. Tessa woke, smiled at Maggie who slept beside her, and went downstairs to check the book and make coffee. Her hand slipped, and the book fell to the floor. She reached down to pick it up again and, without meaning to, read the entry. It wasn’t the right day. She turned it back to the front page to read her advice. It didn’t give any; instead it read
16th July Dear Tessa All good things must come to an end. She kept it with her all day, terrified of what might happen, touching her pocket constantly. But by the time she returned home, it was gone. Earlier this year, I entered a writing competition that involves writing stories under restrictions, including a time limit. This is the one that I submitted for round one, that required a science-fiction story, featuring a contestant as a character along a theme of a lost cause. It had to be written in eight days. Still waiting to hear back about if I've proceeded to round two or not, so please be nice... Content warning: the story is about having the right to have children, so if that's going to cause you any problems, possibly best not to read this one. “Doctor – proximity is now sufficient to overcome the degradation in the radio signal.” The ship’s computer spoke in its toneless voice, waking Rose Lawrence from her sleep. She pulled herself from her bunk at the back of the pilot’s cabin and stretched with a yawn. Padding over to the control panels, she looked at the monitors, quickly confirming what the computer had said. “Analyse,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Can you confirm our earlier speculation?” She’d been chasing this signal for months, heading out of explored space. When she first found it, the computer could only make out a scrambled voice and what might have been a cry for help. “Yes, Doctor,” the computer answered. “It sounds human, and seems to be a distress call on loop, though the point of origin is still distant. It is likely that we are already too late to render assistance.” “Regardless, we need to find out,” replied Lawrence. She yawned again, pulling a brush through her hair. If she had, as she suspected, found a human colony, lost since Earth’s evacuation, she should investigate, even if they didn’t need help. “Set course, maximum speed, and playback the message.” “Hello,” started the voice. It sounded female and anxious. “I hope there is somebody out there who can hear this. We are in desperate need ….” Alison walked into her house, striving to look calm. Only once she was inside did she lower herself into a chair and let it sink in. After years of thinking about it, she had finally registered. If she was lucky, she would have a chance at a child. If she was monumentally lucky. From another room, she heard the viewscreen playing – it sounded like an old historical documentary about Earth. It seemed like that kind of programme had been playing a lot recently, and she knew that Darren enjoyed them. She didn’t share his enthusiasm, but she could understand it – there was an attraction to looking back at a happier, if more naïve, time. Right then, Alison certainly didn’t want to be focussing on the past, and she couldn’t talk to Darren yet. Ignoring the sounds of surprise from her husband, she left to walk next-door. The automated door opened, and she called out: “Zoe! You here?” Zoe entered the hallway, wearing a light dressing gown that contrasted with their dark skin, towelling their hair dry. “Course I’m here. Door wouldn’t have let you in if I wasn’t.” They stopped when they saw Alison and stared at her. “You alright?” “I don’t know,” Alison replied. If she won, her life would never be the same again. Zoe bustled her in and sat her down, moving to sit nearby. They didn’t immediately ask anything, which Alison appreciated, still collecting her thoughts. “I did it, Zoe – I registered at the Commission.” Zoe didn’t respond for a moment, but then their mouth opened wide and they wrapped their arms around Alison in an excited embrace. “That’s amazing!” they exclaimed into Alison’s shoulder. “Have you told Darren?” “Not yet,” Alison replied. “There’ll be time for that if I win. If I don’t, then there’s no point.” Zoe released Alison from the hug and held her at arm’s length. “Well, sure,” they pushed, “but don’t you think your husband might want a bit of time to get used to the idea of you winning a chance to sleep with another guy?” Alison felt her face redden. “You know it’s not like that. It’s all very clinical – I’ll never even meet the guy. And Darren knows I want a child – he wants that too. I just don’t want to…” She quietened. “You don’t want to…” Zoe prompted. “If he gets excited about it and then I lose, it will be even worse. And let’s face it, my chances aren’t high – there are thousands of other applicants.” As she spoke, Alison realised that there were tears on her face. To have a child, her own child – sometimes the need was almost overwhelming. “Hey, I get it,” said Zoe, reaching out again, and laying their hand on their friend’s shoulder. “You want to keep it secret; I’ll respect that.” Alison shook her head, trying to regain control. Zoe pulled Alison into a full embrace again. “Don’t you worry, girl,” they whispered. “I’ve got your back. Now, let me go make you a drink.” The initial test results were ready a month to the day. Even knowing how tightly regulated the process was hadn’t stopped Alison checking constantly, just in case they were early. She’d chosen to walk to receive them, rather than take the hovercar, knowing that keeping up her level of fitness was even more important than usual, but now, with her stomach churning, she wished she was there already. The streets were quiet, with only occasional bustles of people to navigate around. One woman held the hand of a little girl, and Alison had to stop herself staring after them as they passed. The stores displayed luxury items in flashing adverts as she passed the windows – the only things people ever needed to buy now. Some things, though, money couldn’t buy. Outside the Commission, the usual protestors were chanting and waving electronic slogans. She raised her hand over her face and looked down to stop them recognising her and harassing her later. So many people who lived in the city simply saw the excess everywhere and that they could afford it. They saw they were almost in utopia, and thought the Commission was the only thing standing its way, controlling society’s ability to reproduce. Alison could understand why they were angry; they were so afraid of what the Commission represented, what its very existence asserted about the future, but it made her despair that their solution was to get in the Commission’s way. Her initial medical tests were clear, but before she could even jump for joy, let alone process it, she was escorted onto a Mag-Train out the city. Few people made such journeys – there was little need, and even less inclination. However, to avoid the protestors, the Commission’s main test centre was outside city limits. Out of the window, Alison saw empty streets filled with empty homes, building projects that would never be completed, because nobody would ever use those buildings. Her reflection stared back at her, life against loss, and for a moment she had the disconcerting feeling she was the only person alive in the world. She felt tears on her face. So many people that could have been here but weren’t. Each generation smaller than the last. Each desperately hoping to find an answer and reverse the trend. To no avail. Many despaired and gave up. Alison chose to hope – that she, or anybody else, or even her potential child, might find a way. But then, wasn’t the job of a parent, even a prospective one, to hope for their child, and dream of what they might accomplish, of the world they might create? And, oh, she had such dreams… The Mag-Train moved swiftly; in less than an hour she reached the testing facility. The quiet was eery; she wondered if the security person who met her at the station was used to it, or if they longed to return to the city each night. Part of Alison wished that more people would leave the city and see beyond “utopia”, but another selfish part of her was just glad to be able to enter without any difficulties. Alison entered her living room to see Zoe coming in through the front door, carrying a bottle of wine. She smiled, embracing her friend, who quickly put down the bottle and returned the hug. “I take it your tests went well?” Zoe asked. Alison let go and stepped back. “Yes – very well.” She couldn’t keep the jubilation out of her voice, even though rationally, she knew she shouldn’t be excited yet. “I’m compatible with the treatment, and within the top 10% for both physical and intellectual scores. There are just the values tests to go now.” Zoe had been finding wine glasses and pouring. “I am very glad to hear it. I’ve had this bottle of wine for ten years - a gift from the last network director when he retired – and I wouldn’t want to waste it. You know, you can’t get this wine anymore.” “Maybe we should save it then, for after I get the final results?” Alison hoped she sounded convincing – true wine was such a treat that she didn’t really want to pass it up. Zoe shook their head. “Don’t even go there. I brought this wine to be drunk. Now, tell me about the tests. They’re so hush hush about it all; my listeners would love the inside scoop!” Alison laughed as she took the glass she was being handed. “I can’t tell you much,” she explained. “There is a reason it’s all so hush hush – the Commission are committed to the system, so they don’t want people learning to game it. Just think of it as the world’s most gruelling exercise session with monitors attached, followed by exams and problem-solving tests.” Zoe gave a fake pout. “You’re no fun,” they complained. “Do you meet any of the other hopefuls?” Alison shook her head after taking a sip. “No. It’s really strange - I’m engaged in this elaborate contest, and I don’t even get to see who I’m up against. There are thousands of us competing for a handful of treatments, and the others could be anybody.” Zoe raised their hand. “You think that’s strange!” they replied. “We live in a post-scarcity world, but our entire existence is reliant on a treatment so rare that we have elaborate and secretive competitions to work out who is allowed to have children.” “I know,” Alison nodded. “We’re not dead yet though – we can still turn it around. Every child has the chance of being the one to find a solution.” Words she had heard since she was born; she, like everybody else, a product of successful tests. “Yeah,” Zoe mimicked more of the infomercial. “Which is why each child has to have the best chance from the best parents. Anyway – have you told Darren yet? He needs to be involved in the values test, doesn’t he? It’s so unfair that the people applying to be fathers don’t need go through the rest of it.” Alison nodded. “I’m telling him tonight – we’re going out for dinner. We’re going to need to work hard to show that we’ll bring the child up properly, but that we aren’t so similar that the child ends up too narrow-minded, and we don’t even know what the questions will be. And we can’t access the parenting class unless we’re going to be parents!” Zoe stood, draining their wine glass. “Well, you’ll want to get ready for tonight then, and I don’t want to get in your way. Let me know how it goes! Keep the wine – Darren should enjoy some too.” Alison sank into her sofa when she returned home from the values tests and immediately called Zoe. She needed to talk to somebody, and both she and Darren had sat in silence, considering their own experiences until it was too late - Darren had started work as soon as they were back in the city. Conveniently, he worked security at the Commission’s main city facility, but that meant that they hadn’t even been able to talk about their tests before she’d been ushered out the building. Zoe picked up straightaway. “What’s wrong?” they asked immediately. “I think we messed it up. I don’t know – I’ve just left the tests with a really bad feeling.” Alison’s voice was muted, and she wasn’t sure what was giving her the feeling of dread. Had they messed up their tests? At this point, it was impossible to know. The crowds around the Commission building had seemed angrier than usual today, which always shook her. Perhaps that was all it was. “What happened? Do you want me to come over?” Zoe’s voice was filled with concern. “No, no – don’t come over,” Alison insisted. “I don’t know what’s wrong – I just have a bad feeling.” Alison could hear Zoe’s viewscreen faintly in the background – not enough for words, but enough to pick up on the tone. It sounded like a news report, and the reporter sounded anxious. “Looks like you got home just in time,” Zoe muttered. “The protests around the Commission have turned into a full-blown riot. Doesn’t Darren work there?” Alison turned on her own viewscreen to watch the same news story, seeing what Zoe had reported. A riot around the Commission’s City facility. Protestors fighting with security. She heard a beep from her commsputer. “Zoe – I’m sorry, I have another call. Talk to you later?” Zoe agreed and Alison pressed the button to transfer to the other call. “Doctor Etso?” A male voice inquiring. “Yes,” Alison replied. “Who is this?” “Doctor Etso – this is Doctor Maddison. I’m calling from the hospital. I’m afraid your husband has been injured. Can you come in?” Zoe opened the door to Alison’s. “Hey?” they called, placing flowers on a counter. Alison gave her friend a tired smile. “Hey”. Zoe moved to hug her, “How’s Darren?” “He’s sleeping upstairs,” Alison replied. “He’ll be ok.” “Have you heard the news?” asked Alison. Zoe shook their head. “The rioters destroyed part of the treatment supply,” Alison continued. “They haven’t revealed how much is left, but…” They both lapsed into silence. “I got the message this morning that I won,” Alison said after a few moments. “I guess I get part of that supply. I’m going to … to... to be a mother…” “And you and Darren will make great parents,” said Zoe. “Maybe your kid will be the one to solve this.” Alison gave her friend that same tired smile. “We can hope. I just … people are trying to destroy our only chance. I don’t… I just… What if my baby is alone?” Zoe stopped her. “They won’t be. And, anyway, my station have started something. We’ve dedicated one of our radio masts to sending a request for help into space. Even if nobody on our planet can solve this, there might be somebody else out there who can.” The planet below Lawrence was clearly the origin of the signal – the ship’s systems could pinpoint the mast, still transmitting within a deserted city.
“Computer – scan the planet,” ordered Lawrence. She’d known that they might be too late but was still hoping against hope that there might be something left. “Zero human life, doctor,” replied the computer, its monotone at odds with its pronouncement. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. “Too late then?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “I believe we were too late before we began,” responded the computer. Lawrence nodded. “Let’s go down. We owe it to Zoe to at least learn what we can.” The final part of last week's story - if you missed the beginning, you can find it here. I watched the sky earnestly, waiting to see other snowmen. I didn’t know where Spring slumbered, so I had to rely on the others to guide me. The clock struck eleven times before I saw them again and I took to the air to follow them. A different direction this time – I could feel both my garden and the old meeting place getting farther and farther away.
As we flew, I looked through the skies and saw that hundreds of us had joined this flight. Of course, none of the others would have spoken to their children as I had. None of the others would understand why the spring must come, all of those wonderful things that Bethany had told me about. I would be truly alone amongst them all. As I saw the others start to descend, I did the same and we walked into a cave. Descending into the ground, we came to a cavern and there, lying on a bed of leaves, with a blanket of moss, was a young girl. She was warmed by a fire in a heath, which the snowmen kept their distance from. Except for Gloves. He led this group, and he went immediately to that fire, and tore a handful of snow from his chest, dropping it onto the flames and creating steam. A few others, seeing his example, did the same, and soon the fire was gone. The cavern became notably cooler with the lack of the fire, but not enough for Gloves. He and another snowman moved her mossy blanket, and I was struck by how much this young girl reminded me of Bethany. The other snowmen, at Gloves’s direction, started to scoop handfuls of snow from themselves and bury her in them, but I couldn’t join them. I couldn’t break my promise to Bethany. But I also couldn’t see how to stop them. Gloves noticed me and my lack of engagement with the activity. He walked over. “What’s wrong, Scarf?” he asked. Suddenly, the scarf that I had been so proud of seemed a very little thing when he used it to name me. The previous night, when other snowmen had done the same, it had been a thing to take pride in – that I had one when other did not. But now I had a name. “Rudy,” I said quietly. “What?” said Gloves. “My name is Rudy,” I replied. “Not Scarf. Not Seven-Fingers. Rudy.” When I told him my own name, I had the same feeling as when Bethany had first given it to me. I liked my name and what it meant to me. It was me. “Fine,” Gloves responded. “Rudy, whatever. Is there a problem?” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No problem.” “So, why aren’t you giving of yourself? Everybody else is. You are being selfish, Rudy.” I supposed that, from his perspective, I was. I approached Spring as she slept, now shivering from the mass of snow upon her. I scooped out some of myself and placed it on her as well. Gloves gave a nod and when everybody had done so, he gathered us all together again. “It is done,” he said, triumphantly with his arms raised. “Spring will now sleep forever. The thaw will not come, and we will be eternal.” There was a cheer from the other snowmen. I raised my arms to blend in but couldn’t bring myself to join the chorus. “Let us return, and report to our fellows what we have done.” And, with those words, Gloves took to the air, and I could feel that he was heading to the meeting place. I had no desire to go with them and hoped that I would be unnoticed. Once I was alone, I returned to the cave and pushed the snow from Spring. It was a long job – she was heavily covered – and then I returned her blanket, but it did not help. I carefully removed my scarf and wrapped it around her, but it did not help. She still shivered; the cold having seeped into her. It would take more than I could do to warm her again. I needed to restart the fire, but I didn’t know how. And there was only one person that I could ask. I left the cave again, hoping that Spring would be alright without her fire. Gloves had said that she would only sleep in the cold, but I had little faith that Gloves cared either way as long as he could continue to be. I took to the air and flew to my garden and approached the house. I didn’t know which window was Bethany’s bedroom. I tried the back door, where I had seen her emerge from and disappear to. It opened, and I was met with the warmth of inside. It was deeply uncomfortable, and I felt wet. I looked down and saw that I was dripping onto the floor. Was this what it felt like to melt? I moved quickly through the kitchen, leaving puddles behind me. I checked each room I came to, moving quietly, but leaving tracks that any would see. I moved up the stairs and continued to try rooms. Finally, I found the one where Bethany lay asleep and I moved over to her and, being careful not to lean over her and to drip on her, I reached out with one wooden hand and pushed her awake. Her eyes opened. She rubbed them. She looked at me. They widened. Before she could say anything, I spoke: “Bethany – I need your help.” She nodded and pushed back her blankets, quickly awake. “What do you need?” she whispered. “I need to make a fire.” She didn’t ask why. She pulled on slippers and a dressing gown and crept downstairs with me. When she saw the puddles that I had left behind me, she pushed me outdoors again, where it was refreshingly cool. However, I felt… diminished. I packed up snow from the ground, trying to add to myself, but it simply fell away, refusing to become a part of me. Soon, Bethany joined me with a bag of things. I didn’t ask, and she didn’t show me – I trusted that she had what would be needed. She’d added a big coat over her dressing gown and had swapped her slippers for wellington boots. “Alright, Rudy,” she said, smiling at me. “Where do you need the fire?” “Hold my hand,” I told her, and she did. I lifted into the air and, somehow, she came with me. I flew us back to Spring’s cave and led Bethany in. She didn’t seem at all surprised by the flight, but she did have a large grin on her face. “This is Spring,” I said to her when we reached the cavern. The young girl was still shivering, in spite of what I’d tried to do. “She has your scarf,” said Bethany as she came in and looked at the girl. “I was trying to warm her up,” I said. “Can you make the fire here?” I pointed to the damp hearth. Bethany nodded. “My dad says that this will light anything.” She pulled a bottle out of her bag and poured some of the contents over the wet wood in the fire. She followed this with bits of paper and some white blocks of… something. “Step back,” she said to me. “I don’t really know how much of this to use, and it might be too much.” I did as she had advised, and Bethany took a small piece of wood out of a box and moved it quickly against the side of the box. Once, twice, three times. On the third movement, it lit, and a small flame could be seen. Slowly and carefully, Bethany moved the tiny flame to the fire that she had prepared and moved them together. As they touched, there was a loud whoomph sound and fire climbed from the hearth. I felt the heat of it even from where I was standing and felt myself begin to drip again. I looked over to Spring – her shivering had stopped. Fleeing the fire, we moved outside again and sat in the snow. It was good to be in the cool again, and Bethany was smiling too, no doubt enjoying her adventure. We stayed there for some time, though I don’t know how long. We were enjoying each other’s company, and we played properly, without concern for who might see me. We ran, and we laughed, knowing that our time was short. “What have you done, Rudy?” The voice came whilst I was rolling around in the snow with Bethany. I sat up and saw that Gloves was staring at me. I climbed to my feet, trying to keep Bethany behind me. “What have you done, Rudy?” He asked the question again, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. “Not only have you revealed yourself to a child, but you’ve reversed what we did here tonight, didn’t you?” I nodded as he approached. “I suppose that I will have to set it right then,” Gloves said, taking me by the hand and pulling me into the cave again, ignoring Bethany who was sitting in the snow. “This time, I’ll just use your snow to bury her – I’m not asking the others to sacrifice again.” He was stronger than me – perhaps I had lost too much in my melting – and he could easily drag me behind him. “Hey! Let Rudy go!” Bethany’s voice carried from behind us. Gloves laughed at her and turned for a moment, swiping out at her with his gloved hand. He was stronger even than she, and she left her feet, hitting the cavern wall. She slumped to the ground. And with that, I found my strength. I pulled myself out of Gloves’s grip, not caring for how much bigger than me, or how much stronger than me he might be. I ran for Spring’s chamber and felt the oppressive heat again. Spring was starting to move – stirring under had moss blanket. Bethany had overdone it, but now that fact would be our salvation. I picked up a branch from the fire, feeling the heat of it diminish me, even as I moved back towards Gloves who was just entering the chamber. I swung the fire at him and saw that he started to glow in the light of it as well – that tell-tale sheen that showed that he was melting too. He tried to stay back, but there wasn’t room to move in the rocky passageway. I kept coming, not caring for the heat, not caring for what it was doing to me. Bethany was hurt, and I was going to stop him. I pushed him back against the wall and held the burning wood close to us both. He tried to reach for it, tried to smother the fire with his gloved hand. It didn’t work – whatever Bethany had put the wood was keeping it from going out. And, as we stood there, staring at each other, we both melted away. I don’t know how long it was before I was again. I felt that same feeling of being constructed and then, when my eyes were added, of suddenly knowing. A voice spoke to me as soon as I was completed. “Hello again, Rudy.” It was Bethany. And, beside her, stood Spring. I fussed over Bethany, making sure she was ok from the fight. I looked round for Gloves, but the parts of him that weren’t snow were lying on the ground besides the cave entrance, including his signature gloves. I raised my own hands, and found I had my scarf back. Spring didn’t say anything to me, though Bethany told me that the two of them had talked whilst I was melted. Bethany never told me what they had said though – it had to be a secret and, as she had told me, she was the best secret-keeper. I flew her home, waving goodbye to Spring, and knowing that I would melt again when we returned to the garden. When the sun came up in the morning, it would be warmer, and would bring the thaw with it. But I did get her home before dawn came, and she snook back into her bedroom. As she turned away, she simply said, “See you next time, Rudy.” I didn’t understand, but I waved to her. And I watched the sun rise, and I felt it’s warmth. It doesn’t hurt to melt, thankfully. It’s actually kind of a nice feeling. Though I did feel that I was going to miss Bethany. It didn’t feel like any time at all before I was existing again. Being built. Having my eyes added. Those same words. “Hello again, Rudy.” Bethany was bigger then – a year had passed. Spring had been early the previous year, and there hadn’t been another snowfall. I had my same arms and hands, the same seven fingers. I had my hat and, again, my scarf. Most importantly, I had my name. And so, we spent what time together we had, and we both felt that it was special because it so short. And our time came to an end. And the next time there was snow, she would build me again, with the same branches that she saved, and the same hat, and the same scarf, and the same words – “Hello again, Rudy.” And each year, we would meet again – almost for the first time, but with memories of the last times. And she always had so much to tell me. I spent my nights at the snowman meetings and was soon the most knowledgeable there. My memories of previous times were stronger than any those held by any other, and whilst I tried to share the secret of names with them, it never worked as well, as their children lost interest after a few years. I stopped the snowmen from repeating what Gloves had tried, explaining that it was our ethereal nature that made our relationship with the children so joyous. Eventually, we reached the point where Bethany didn’t want to play anymore – and so we just talked. One year she asked if he could share our secret with a special friend – she was in her twenties by then. Of course, I said yes, and the next day she brought Steven to see me. As you’d expect, he was surprised to see me. The true joy though, was a few years after that, when Bethany built me, said my name, and there was a child. A young boy, named Carl, was there with Bethany and Steven. And he wanted to play. First of a two-parter today - the story is a little longer than usual, hence the split. Inspired by an evil looking snowman that we built together a couple of weeks ago. It was remarkable to suddenly exist.
Of course, it hadn’t happened in a moment. I’d had a gradual realisation of suddenly being. Of being formed. The full realisation of the enormity of existing didn’t sink in until my eyes were added, and I could properly take in the world around me and understand – before that point it had all been abstract. I’d felt myself being moulded, but with no reference points it was difficult to comprehend what I was being made into. After that, I could look down at myself. My fluffy white body, with short stumpy legs. I stretched out my arms, which were brown and thin. One hand had four fingers, whilst the other only had three. My nose was prominent and, whichever way I looked, I could always see it – orange and sticking out. I could feel a hat on my head, and I had a scarf around my neck though, in truth, I didn’t really have a neck – my head was attached directly to my body. There was a young child sitting in the snow in front of me, looking at me. Her mouth and eyes were wide open. It was hard to make out much about her – she was so wrapped up in a big coat, scarf, hat, gloves, that I really couldn’t make out much of her at all. Now I know that she had just turned eight years old and had blonde hair that went to halfway down her back. She was neither tall nor short for her age – just about average. She had a very cute smile that made you smile just to see it, and a manner that made you want to make her laugh. “You can move!” she said, still not having moved out of the snow. The accusation hit me hard. Was I not supposed to move? Surely, I wasn’t simply supposed to stand there all day? What would be the point of being, if you could only be in one place? “Yes,” I replied after a moment. “Did I do something wrong?” She shook her head vigorously. “No, no. I just haven’t seen a snowman move before, so I didn’t know you could.” I nodded to her, trying to be reassuring. She was the only person I had met – I didn’t want to scare her off. “Did you build me?” I asked, wanting to make conversation but not really knowing what about. She nodded to me, her face widening with her smile. “Yes,” she said. Before I could continue any of my sparkling banter, another voice called from out of sight. “Bethany – come in for dinner!” it said. “That’s my mum,” said the young girl, who I now knew was named Bethany. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s the holidays, so I don’t need to go to school.” “Goodbye, Bethany,” I said, waving my four fingered hand at her. “See you tomorrow.” She laughed and waved back. I wasn’t sure what was funny, but it was good to hear the laugh. She ran through the snow, leaving boot prints behind her and I settled in to wait, though I wasn’t sure for what. However, now that Bethany had gone, it didn’t seem like there was much of anything else to do, and so I continued to wait. Every so often, I could hear a bell, and every time it rang, it did so for a little longer. It had just rung twelve times when I saw something new. Above me, flying through the sky, I saw another snowman, much like myself (though this one hadn’t been given a scarf, and his hands only had two fingers each). I wondered if I could fly too, as it would be nice to meet another snowman and to talk. And, as I considered it, I found myself floating through the air as well. It was as instinctive to me as standing had been. Once I was floating high enough to speak to the other snowman, I spoke: “Hello. Where are we going?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I saw some others go overhead, so I’m following.” Once he pointed them out and I looked in front of us, I could see the others. There were three of them. I wondered if they knew where they were going, or if they, in turn, were following more snowmen. Our speed seemed to be unchanging, so I couldn’t catch up to them to ask, but we also didn’t need to worry about them getting too great a lead. It seemed that we were flying for a long time, but dawn had not yet come when we landed. I had no idea how far we had travelled, or where we now were, but I felt a kind of homing instinct trying to pull me back to the garden where I had been built. That was a worry for another time though, as here there were hundreds, if not thousands of snowmen. Each of us was different, one way or another. Some were taller than others, and some were broader. Combinations of limbs varied, with some having branches like myself and others arms moulded from the snow, much like their bodies. Placement of eyes, clothing, buttons and what constituted a nose – all of these things combined to make each snowman unique. One climbed up onto a tree stump and raised his wooden arms – he had gloves on the end of them, rather than relying on the branches for his fingers – and all of the others turned to look at him. “Fellow snowmen,” he said, his voice deep and booming. “Welcome. Some of you may be wondering why you are here, whilst others simply have some instinctive memory. Well – either way, I’m here to explain what you can expect.” Everybody had silenced themselves to listen to him. “We will have two or three days of delight. The air will be chill, and fresh snow will fall. Children will play with us and we will bring joy to the world. Sadly, this will not last and, once that time has passed, we will melt away. For some of us, our brief lives will be remembered and, next time there is a snowfall, we may be born again. For many of us, this may be the last time. “Over the years that we have gathered here, a plan has been formed to end this cycle, and it has been passed down, memory to memory, snowman to snowman. We are now ready to enact it.” That made me pay attention. I’d been listening, but only with half a mind whilst I looked around and took in the differences between the various snowmen, but my focus was now completely on Gloves. I had only just started to enjoy life, to appreciate existence – the idea of having it torn away after only a couple of days was… I hadn’t the words to describe the feeling. A part of me wanted to leave immediately, to ensure I was back for morning when Bethany would be out and wanting to play. Another part longed to hear what the plan was – how could we stop this? The others around had clearly felt something similar – the noise had increased around the area, and many snowmen were speaking to each other in hushed tones, but enough of them that it was difficult to hear Gloves. After a few moments, Gloves raised his arms again, and the crowd quietened. “The problem, my friends,” Gloves continued once he had quiet, “is the spring. We are creatures of the winter and even in the depths of our own season, the spring is trying to break through and bring her warmth. It is Spring that forces us to melt, and Spring that we must stop.” There was a great deal of nodding amongst the snowmen, and I found myself nodding along as well. It all sounded so simple. Except… how could we stop a season from coming? “Right now, Spring slumbers,” Gloves continued. “She sleeps, which is why we can exist. When she stirs, the thaw will come. Tomorrow night, we will fly again, and travel to where she rests. Those of you who can, follow. We must give of ourselves, and the more of us that are present, the lesser the burden on each of us. “For now, though, enjoy yourselves and get to know each other. If we are successful, we will be able to enjoy each other’s company for far longer.” There was great cheering from all of the snowmen, myself included. It was strange though – we celebrated the solution to a problem that none of us had faced before, and yet Gloves’s speech had made it seem a very real threat. I resolved, over the course of the night, that I would fly with them the next night if I saw them. We spent time, as instructed, talking and dancing, getting to know each other. Some of us spoke of the children that had built us, though few of us had been as silly as I had, in moving in front of the child – apparently, this was not the done thing. However, it was too late and what was done, was done. However, I spoke of what little I knew of Bethany, and looked forward to playing with her the next day. Many of the snowman I spoke to reacted with envy – whilst they might disagree with my actions, they clearly wanted what I had. Some simply grumbled about my foolishness. In the dim light of the pre-dawn, we made our goodbyes and flew into the air again. I could feel where my garden was and, as I flew back to it, I realised that I could feel the meeting site too and that, if I wanted to, I would be able to find my way back there. I wondered why some of the snowmen already knew such, in order to guide others, but there were no answers to be found in my thoughts, and so I dropped the question. It was still dark when I returned to my garden and so I carefully returned to my place and waited. I had resolved that I would try not to reveal that I could move and speak to anybody except Bethany – I would tell her that it must be our secret. The sun had only just risen, and more snow had started to fall, when Bethany came out again. As on the previous day, she was wrapped up well against the cold, in a scarf that looked very similar to my own. She ran out, a large smile on her face and came directly towards me. “Good morning!” she shouted as she reached me. I’d turned, so that I would be able to see the door that she had come from, and so be able to be sure she was alone. I trusted that her mother wouldn’t have been paying enough attention to notice which way the snowman in her garden was facing. “Good morning, Bethany,” I replied. I was sure to speak quietly – whilst I was sure that a noisy child would be largely ignored by those inside, even if seemingly talking to her snowman, any reply would be met with suspicion. “Did you sleep well?” She nodded enthusiastically. “Can we play?” she asked. “I don’t know,” I answered. “I can talk to you, but if I move too much, people might notice me.” She frowned and wrinkled her head. “Would that be bad?” I nodded. “I think so. If people knew that I could move and talk, they might want to break me.” She thought about this for several moments before she finally gave a nod that had a hint of finality to it. “You’re right,” she said. “People might.” “What would you like to play?” I asked. “Well…” she answered, wrinkling her head again. “If you can’t move… I could throw snowballs at you!” I couldn’t help but laugh but stopped quickly. “Go ahead, if you like. I don’t mind – I like the cold.” And that was how we spent the morning. In truth, she wasn’t a very good shot, but she was so delighted with herself, jumping and laughing, when she did manage to hit me, that there was joy to it. Watching how much Bethany enjoyed playing with me just made my memories of the previous night, of Gloves’s words more real. He had been right – how could we let this end after a couple of days. Before she went in for her lunch, she stopped and asked me what my name was. I had to confess to her that I didn’t really have one. Again, her face scrunched up in that way that I’d learned meant that she was thinking hard. “I’ll call you Rudy,” she finally said and, that important job done, she turned and went back into her house. I stood and stared at her back as she went. I didn’t understand why, but as soon as she had given me the name, I felt more… solid. I couldn’t explain it – I was no different, but now… now I had a name. I wasn’t just a snowman with a hat, and a scarf, and seven fingers. I was Rudy. The bell had rung once before Bethany came out again, and again we played. This time she chose “eye spy” – it was another game that we could play without me needing to move. At one point, she asked what I had done overnight. “Did you get bored, waiting for me?” I shook my head with a smile. “No, I went to talk to the other snowmen and play with them.” She didn’t ask for more detail – just accepted that this was obviously a thing that I would have done. “Will you do the same tonight?” “Sort of, Bethany. I’ll meet the other snowmen, but we have something important to do tonight.” Her eyes widened. “What is it?” “It’s a secret,” I told her. “Can you keep a secret?” She nodded emphatically. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m the best secret-keeper. I haven’t told anybody about you.” I nodded to her, trying to make my coal eyes look serious. “Well, I guess I can trust you,” I said. “We’re going to go and make it so the snowmen never melt!” She jumped up, clapping her hands. “Wow!” she said. “How are you going to do that?” “Well – the reason we melt is that Spring wakes up from her nap and makes it a bit warmer. So, we’re going to make sure she doesn’t wake up.” At this, Bethany gave me a sceptical look, one eye wide and the other narrowed. “Don’t be silly,” she said with a tone of reproach. “You can’t do that.” I nodded to her. “We can. One of the other snowmen has a plan.” She sat and leaned against me, her back to my leg. “Would that mean that it never becomes spring, and is always winter?” I nodded, then realised she couldn’t see me. “Yes,” I said simply. “That doesn’t sound good,” she replied. “But it would mean that I could always play with you,” I said. “I know,” she said quietly. “But we need spring. I learned that in school. If we don’t have spring, then flowers won’t grow, and lambs won’t be born, and it will never become Christmas again. We read a story about a wicked witch who made it always winter, and never Christmas.” I paused. I had to admit, that that didn’t sound too good. “If we don’t, then I’ll be gone soon…” I spoke quietly, hoping against hope that she would say that it was worth that great cost, to be able to play with me forever. “I know,” she said. “And that’s sad. But… that’s why you’re special too.” “What do you mean?” I asked her. “Well… if you were here all the time, you wouldn’t be special. I want to play with you now because it doesn’t snow enough for snowmen very often.” We fell into silence and I took a chance, bending to wrap my wooden arms around her. “Don’t worry, Bethany,” I said. “I won’t let it happen. I’ll stop them from doing anything to Spring.” She shifted slightly and hugged me back. “I’ll miss you, Rudy,” she said, and as she did, that feeling of being more solid, more real, struck me again. “I’ll miss you too, Bethany.” It seemed that, to her, the crisis had been averted. I’d said I would stop it, and so I would – simple as that. She cheered up and we continued to play, and as we played she told me more about the wonders of spring, until she had to go in for the evening. She gave me a wave, and I wondered when the thaw would come. Would I see her the next day? I had to stop the plan of the other snowmen – I had promised. Part 2 can be found here. Leanna looked down from her vantage point in the trees. The rain was falling around her, but she hardly noticed it. The sight before her was all that her mind could comprehend. The village was gone. Some buildings remained – those that had not burned completely to the ground before the rains had come - but the heart and soul of the village – its people – were gone. The smoke still rose into the sky, coming from fires that fought to burn on despite the downpour. There would be no further damage done here this day, but what had happened was enough. Leanna climbed down her tree, her bare hands and feet moving swiftly down the bark, and walked into the ruins. She was confident that there was no reason to be cautious – she’d watched the site long enough to be sure that none of the attackers had remained. Carefully, she looked through the damaged buildings and the burned-out spaces in between them, looking for where the people of this village had hidden their heartstone. It would be somewhere – all of the villages had one and it was unlikely that the invaders had taken it. Not impossible, but unlikely. If it had gone, or she couldn’t find it, she would need to track them – this possibility didn’t overly concern her, other than the time it would take. If she could find the heartstone, she could be far swifter. She moved aside some debris and found it, right up against the side of one of the buildings and completely covered with the burned remains of undergrowth. It appeared that the villagers here had either forgotten the old ways or had been remarkably clever to hide the stone as soon as they saw danger approach. Either way, she could still use it to find them. The stone was giving off heat, but not from the fires – they couldn’t have touched it. No – heartstones burned with an inner heat, the heat of the soul of the village. Only when every soul that was connected to this stone was dead would that heat fade, and the sense of warmth gave Leanna hope. She placed her hands upon it, attuning to the stone and adding her own energy to that which it already held. She compressed hundreds of days of belonging into an instant and, in a very real way, joined this community. As soon as it was done, she could feel where her people were. Somewhere to the south-east, a few miles away. Movement had clearly been difficult through the forests with so many people or they would have made greater speed, but that was all to her benefit. She could find her friends and family swiftly. Jericho walked as part of the line of villagers, carefully stepping over tree roots and other obstacles, desperately not wanting to trip. He had seen what had happened to those of his friends that had slowed down the weary procession through the forests. Each time, somebody nearby in the line had tried to stop the abuse, the whips, the beatings – but all that that had achieved had been two people being punished rather than one. Still, they kept doing it though – they were a community. Something had changed though. He could feel it and see it in the expressions of his friends. The faces that had seemed despairing now had a glimmer of hope in them. In himself, he recognised a newfound sense of confidence. This was temporary. They would escape, or be saved, or something. He didn’t know where it came from, and it seemed completely inappropriate. He knew from the masks that their guards wore that they were being delivered to be sacrificed to their foul god. Now, when villagers met each other’s eyes, it was with a smile, rather than with fear. He heard a soft sound from his left and looked over. There had been a guard there a moment earlier. Hadn’t there? He took a moment to glance over his shoulder, looking back where they had come and wondered. Surely, there had been more guards behind him before? Where were they now? As he watched, he saw some return to the line, but still – it didn’t look like it was all of them, and those that did appeared to be spooked. They moved slowly, and looked everywhere, on edge rather than celebrating their raid. One ran forward along the line. Some of the villagers caught Jericho’s eye and grinned at him. Not even the smile of confidence that rescue would come, but the grin of knowledge that it had arrived. He watched the single guard run forwards, presumably to tell something to his superiors at the head of the line. He didn’t get there. One moment he was running and, the next, as they rounded a corner, he was gone. Jericho marked the place where he had been and, when he passed it himself, he saw the footprints in the ground simply stopped. He looked up into the trees and saw her face. She smiled at him, and raised one finger to her lips, requesting his silence. He couldn’t make out much of her, hidden in the trees as she was, but he felt that he should know her, as if she was somebody that he saw every day but couldn’t quite remember. Either way, he knew that he could trust her. He glanced up and down the line – all of the guards looked concerned now. Each was looking into the woods and paying little attention to the villagers that they were supposed to be guarding. She saw others emerge from woods, each looking even more worried than those that had stayed on the line. They were learning what it was like to be the prey when there was a predator around. Leanna climbed quickly back up into the canopy of the trees so she could watch the whole procession of guards and their prisoners. She had managed to thin the numbers, but there were still too many for her to finish swiftly. There were more of them than she had anticipated but she couldn’t stop now. These were her people. She made her way through the treetops. The line of people was moving even more slowly now that the guards knew that there was somebody hunting them and getting in front of them was easy. Leanna waited on a high branch that reached across the path that they were taking and watched them approach. She allowed the first few guards to pass under and then, before any of the prisoners could get too close, dove down to land on one of masked men. As she landed, all turned to see her. This was her most blatant attack yet, but it was needed. As she bore him to the ground, her feet on his chest, she slit his throat and dove into the woods again. Their leader dispatched five of his men to chase her down and she wondered if he knew that he would never see them again. Once she was in the woods, she could not be bested by such as these, as least in such low numbers. She led them on a chase through the woods, always keeping the feel of the villagers in her mind and not moving too far away. She wanted enough distance that they couldn’t call for backup, but not so much that she couldn’t quickly return. She led them to a ditch, nimbly leaping over it herself, but then turned to watch them cross it. They were not capable of the leap she had made and so, as a unit, fell in. She left them to the snakes that she knew resided there. Leanna climbed high again, taking stock of where in the forest they were, and moved towards the line of people again. She found them and was surprised to see that they had stopped completely. Each guard was holding a prisoner, with a sword to their throats. They had gotten wise to her tricks and had worked out what her goals were. The leader at the front was shouting something, but she didn’t concern herself with his words – the intent was clear enough. She must surrender, or these people would die. She moved ahead of the people – her only option now was to be able to scare them into leaving their prisoners alone. She descended to the ground and moved carefully, herself suddenly aware that she was vulnerable, but needing to take the risk. She saw the cave, set into a hillside, and moved in quietly. She could hear the heavy breathing of the creatures within and knew that they were already aware of her. One careful step at a time, she approached, until she saw the first of the wolves. It padded up to her, seemingly more curious than concerned, and she reached out with her energy, with her sense of connection. That same sense that told her that the villagers were still confident that she would save them. That same sense now inserted her into this pack. She spoke, not with words, but in the way of wolves with ideas that they themselves sensed through that shared connection. She thought of the people that were threatened and how they were also family. Also pack. The wolf howled, the sound echoing through the cave, and the rest of the pack stalked up to join it. They were all connected. Now Leana turned and ran and the pack ran with her. Jericho stood quietly, a knife to his throat. Long minutes had passed since their captors had stopped the procession through the woods and started to make demands. He still felt that their saviour was out there somewhere. He wasn’t worried. Yes, he was threatened, but she was coming back, and she would save them.
Though he wasn’t sure how. The leader was still shouting out into the forest, ordering her to give herself up. Of course, she wouldn’t do that. Jericho was sure of that – threatening to kill the prisoners might make her act more swiftly, less cautiously, but it wouldn’t make her surrender. She would know that they were only being taken to be sacrificed anyway. The howls echoed through the forest, seemingly coming from all around them. Wolves? The guards holding them started to look round again, filled with that instinctive fear of predators. Jericho didn’t feel the same. Perhaps it was that he was already in danger, and the addition of wolves didn’t change that. Or, somehow, he felt that they wouldn’t harm him. Some of the guards lost their nerve and dropped their prisoners, running into the forest. Screams followed shortly after, which made even more panic and run. The leader shouted at his men to stand. He called for them to stay with the prisoners. Safety was in numbers, not alone amongst the trees. The wolves emerged from the treeline, quietly and with menace. They stared at the guards. One of them leapt to attack the nearest wolf, but to no avail and he died swiftly, it’s teeth on his throat. Another threw a prisoner at a wolf, possibly seeking to distract it. The wolf ignored this, and let the prisoner run into the trees and escape. Elsewhere, a guard moved to cut the throat of his prisoner, and the nearest wolf growled. He stopped. Jericho heard a noise from the front of the line and looked – the woman had come running out of the treeline with two wolves flanking her. They ran straight for the leader of the cultists and, at that sight, even he lost his nerve. He dropped his prisoner, he dropped his weapons, and he dropped to the floor. The wolves showed no mercy, ripping into him with ferocity sufficient to break the courage of all of the rest of them who, likewise, dropped their prisoners and ran into the forest. The screams followed soon after. As soon as the threat was gone, the woman started to move through the crowds of prisoners, cutting bonds. As each was freed, they moved to free others, and the task didn’t take long. The woman herself came up to Jericho to release him. “I knew you would come,” he said to her as she cut the ropes that bound his wrists. “But who are you? I feel like I should recognise you.” She smiled at him, a look that could have been threatening but, to him, seemed friendly. “My name is Leanna. I’m a friend.” The words this time were magical, light, and string. That combination made me think of the Fate Witches from 7th Sea but I wanted to take a magic like that a little further and do something a little different with it. After some thought, I got this. Tabatha stood from her spinning wheel and stretched out her back. It was aching, and she had to admit that it was starting to do so earlier and earlier each day. It was strange that she didn’t seem to notice it until she had stood up, and that meant that she was able to ignore it if she wanted to. However, it always came back to haunt her – the longer she went on like that, the more it hurt and the longer it took to ease.
She breathed slowly, willing the ache to fade. She wasn’t sure if anything she did helped, but it was better than simply accepting it and doing nothing. Either way, after a few moments it had lessened enough and she moved to the fire, taking some water from the kettle that always hung over it for tea. That fire provided all of the light for the cavern where she spent her days, but currently it was too light. She unfocussed her eyes and looked beyond. To her sight, the cavern faded from view, and she saw string. If she concentrated, she could make out what different things in the true world were, but that was also harder than it had once been. She reached out with her mind and cut the strings that connected the fire to spinning wheel, the table, and the other things around the cave that were currently giving off light. She focussed her eyes again, looking back on reality, and nodded to herself. Much better. Tabatha sat at the table and stirred the tea, awaiting the arrival. It only took two heartbeats and she heard the footfalls from the passage. Right on time. She sat and waited until the young woman came around the corner. She looked exactly as Tabatha had expected – not too tall, and nervous looking, her shabby dress hanging from a very loose frame. Her hair was tangled and dirty, cut short but not with any skill. She couldn’t be surprised that the woman was nervous – Tabatha knew how she herself would appear to the young woman. Old – almost too old to still live. She knew that her own hair looked no better, though for her it was because much of it had fallen out, rather than simply poorly kept. She could also still remember the day, long ago, when she had stood where this young woman did. “Come in,” Tabatha said, trying to sound kindly. “Come in – would you like some tea?” The younger woman hesitated in the cave entrance, her eyes moving quickly, exploring every detail that she could see. “Who are you?” she asked. “How did you know I was coming?” Tabatha smiled in a way that she hoped was warm and welcoming and waved for her visitor to approach. “Come, come. You know who I am, don’t you? Even if you didn’t really believe that I exist.” Silence was the only response. “Ah,” Tabatha continued. “You didn’t really expect to find me, did you? Either way, come on in – the tea will get cold.” She’d found, over years of receiving people just like this young woman, that trying to inject a little normal into what was a magical experience was the best way to put her guests at their ease. Finally, the young woman did come in, slowly and hesitantly, and sat in the chair prepared for her. As she approached, her eyes stayed stuck on Tabatha and only once she had sat down did they move to the tea before her. She took a drink, placed the cup down again, and then folded her hands in her lap. “You’re the witch, Tabatha?” “Well,” Tabatha replied with a smile. “I am Tabatha, but a witch? I suppose some might call me that – mostly men. It’s true that I have some magical ability, but I don’t think of myself as a witch. I think mystic is probably a better word. Now, Sarah, drink your tea before it gets cold. Then we can get to business.” She, again, looked into beyond, and reached out. She connected a string from the fire to the teacups for just a moment, letting them share the fire’s heat to warm them up. Before they could become too hot, she cut it again and re-focussed her gaze on reality. Sarah was staring at her with wide-eyes and Tabatha realised that she had made a mistake in using the woman’s name before she had been told it. She truly was getting old to slip like that. “Don’t worry about it,” she said to Sarah, hoping to calm her again. “I’ll explain everything soon.” Sarah continued to stare, but she reached down and picked up her tea again. She drank it down, seemingly ignoring, or not noticing, the heat. She replaced the cup, and her gaze didn’t shift an inch. “Good,” Tabatha said. “I always say that it’s best to start with tea. Now, would you like to tell me what brings you here? Why you have hunted down a folk tale that you didn’t believe existed?” Sarah opened her mouth, but then closed it again. She was picking at her fingers, though she kept her eyes on Tabatha. “You already know though, don’t you?” Tabatha nodded. “Yes, dear. I know what has happened to you, and why you’ve come. And I’m sorry for what you’ve had to live through.” Sarah took in a deep breath before speaking again. “Can you help me then?” “Not in the way you’re asking for,” Tabatha replied. She put down the cup that she didn’t realise that she’d picked up. Her heart ached for this young woman, and the pain that she had been through, and she wished that she could help. Oh, how she wished she could help. “Fate has another design for you.” “You can’t help?” Sarah’s voice was quiet, only just audible. Tabatha knew that desperation – the feel that she had journeyed for nothing, only to find hope and to then have it dashed. She remembered it well. “How can that be?” Tabatha shook her head. “I’m sorry. All things have their limits, including my power, and even I cannot act against Fate. Just as my predecessor could not help me.” “But the stories? Surely, everything you do changes fate?” Sarah’s voice was louder now, her fear turning to anger. Tabatha didn’t take it personally – she had reacted the same way all those years ago. “No,” she replied, keeping her own voice low and calm. “No – Fate cares little for most people, and I can do as I wish to them. For some, however, Fate has designs which even I cannot work against, and you are one such.” “So, what can I do?” The anger had gone from Sarah’s voice, almost as soon as it had arrived. Now she pleaded, desperate. “You have done what you need to do,” Tabatha replied, stretching out one old hand to place it over that of the younger woman. “You have come to me, and you have had faith. Fate does not choose you cruelly, though it can seem that way. You will have the chance to right this wrong yourself.” “What do you mean?” “You have been chosen to be my successor. You will stay here, with me. I will teach you what I know, both of the world and magic. And then, when your training is complete, you can do what you will.” “You will teach me magic?” Tabatha nodded. “And then I can do anything?” Again, Tabatha nodded. “Yes,” the old mystic said. “I will teach you, and then you can act as you will. However, I give you the warning that my teacher gave me. Fate does not tolerate selfishness. You will be able to use your magical abilities to help yourself in many ways, but if you use them to harm another for your own benefit then Fate will push back.” She shuddered at the memory – she had not taken the warning to heart at first, but she had swiftly learned her lesson. “I can’t quite do anything I want then?” Tabatha smiled. “Oh, yes – you can do whatever you want. If you are prepared to accept the price.” Sarah sat on her chair, staring into the space between them. Tabatha refilled the teacups, understanding well what the younger woman was going through. It was a wonderful offer, to be taught to understand the world in such a way, and to be able to use such understanding to change it, to exert power upon it. At the same time, it meant leaving her old life, any friends or family, her home, behind and not looking back. That could be hard – though, just as with Tabatha so long ago, the pain of that life would make the choice easier. Sarah nodded. “Very well. I accept.” Tabatha nodded in return, not surprised. Nobody ever said no. A part of her delighted that soon she could rest. Another grieved for the life she was inflicting upon another. So, this one is a little unusual. I was give the words Poke, Secret and Sympathetic. That first word reminded of the idea of poking somebody online, and I had been listening to a podcast about epistolary stories and it got me wondering what a modern take on an epistolary story might look like (the answer is, at least partly, difficult to format!). Anne We had the best time last night Julie Really? He seemed so… You know Anne Yeah, I know. He seemed REALLY dull at first. Hard to say no though, right? Julie He was sweet, with the whole song thing Anne Exactly! Julie Sounds like it was worth it though? Anne Yep! He really opened up over dinner and turns out he’s really interesting And he’s rich! Julie Really? How rich? Anne Proper rich Julie And how interesting? Tell me more! Anne Like, he works in computers, and sold something for millions rich All sorts of stuff He’s travelled Speaks like six languages Surprise – very outdoorsy Julie Wow! What was it? Sounds perfect Anne I’m not sure. Wasn’t really listening to that bit Julie Find out for me? Anne Sure – I’m seeing him again tonight Don’t tell anyone though, k? His family won’t want us dating Secret, k? Julie Course Anne Anyway – I gotta get to class Speak to you later? Julie Probably. I’m going to the movies with Paul and Sarah, so might not be able to answer quickly Anne np ttfn Paul Hey – I’m so sorry, but I can’t make the movie tonight. I’ve already got the ticket though. You wanna see if Anne wants to join you. Have a girl’s night? Julie I don’t think she’s free tonight Sarah Ergh. Girl’s night? So cliché… Paul Really? What’s she doing? Julie I’m not supposed to say Paul You can tell us. We’re all friends, right? Julie No – she asked me to keep it secret Sarah Spill it, Red. You’ve got some gossip. Julie No Paul Go on. Sarah Go on. Paul Go on. Sarah Go on. Julie Really? Double teaming me? Sarah Go on. Paul Go on. Go on. Go on. Julie Fine – she’s got a date with Daniel Paul Daniel? Sarah Dull Daniel? Julie Yes – they went out last night and had a good time, so they’re doing it again tonight. Paul Don’t worry – we won’t tell. Sarah Who’d care anyway? Julie Err? You guys? Julie Poke! Anne Morning Julie Well? Anne Well what? Oh yeah – how was the movie? Julie Ha ha. Very funny How was your date? Anne Disaster Julie Oh no! What happened? Anne We were at dinner Just opened the wine Appetisers were amazing! Then he gets a phone call And he answers it! Julie That doesn’t sound so bad. We’ve had whole conversations while you’ve been on a date. Anne Yeah, but then he gets up and leaves!!!! Julie What? Anne Quick apology, but he’s gone!!! Julie Did he say why? Anne Leaving me with dinner for two sat alone No. Didn’t say anything but have to go Julie I’m so sorry What could have made him run off like that? Anne I don’t know I don’t care Julie What a jerk Did he at least pay? Anne Yeah Left his ccard with the waiter Julie That’s something at least Anne I guess Oh – I asked him that question for you You know – about what he made and sold Julie Oh, yeah? What was it? Anne Something called Macrodine Never heard of it Julie Me neither. Weird Anne Anyway See you l8r Getting ice cream for breakfast Cos I’m a grownup Julie Hugs Love you Julie Hey. Got a sec? William Shoot. Julie Have you ever heard of Macrodine? William Don’t think so. Is that an IT thing? Julie I think so, but I’ve never heard of it either, and nothing’s coming up from a search William Give me a few seconds. Julie K William No – nothing coming up. I don’t think that’s a real thing. Microdine is real. Macrodyn is real. Can’t find Macrodine. Julie K Thanks William What’s this about? Julie Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Thanks. Daniel Hey Julie Daniel? How did you get my contact? Daniel Paul. Don’t be mad. Need to talk to you. Julie No you don’t. Not after how you treated Anne the other night. Daniel I know. I treated her bad. I want to make it up to her. Julie So, why are you talking to me? Daniel She won’t return my calls. Julie And you’re surprised? Daniel No, but I need to get in touch with her somehow. I really like her. Julie You’re going to need to give me more than that. I’m not feeling very sympathetic towards you right now. Why should I help you get another chance to hurt my friend? Daniel Look – I know I screwed up. Julie Understatement. Daniel But I need to apologise to her. Julie Who was the phone call from? Daniel My parents. Somehow they heard that I was dating Anne, and they freaked. They don’t like me dating. Julie Dude – you’re an adult. Who cares what your parents think? Daniel You wouldn’t say that if you had my parents. Julie Incidentally, what’s Macrodine? Daniel Macrodine? Why? Julie Just wondering. Anne mentioned it, and I didn’t know what it was. I figured you’d be able to tell me. Daniel Right. It’s an app. Searches menus of local restaurants and takeaways for the best place to order from. You know – if you’re in a group, and one person wants pizza, and one wants curry, and so on – it finds the best place to go to get all of those. Julie So why couldn’t I find it? Daniel I don’t think it’s been released yet. And they’ll probably change the name to something more user-friendly when they do. Something with a bit of zazz to it. Julie Fair enough. You promise to be good to Anne if I ask her to get back in touch with you? Daniel Absolutely! Julie OK – I’ll talk to her. No promises mind – decision is for her to make. Daniel I understand. Thanks. Julie Poke. Anne Hey you Julie Weirdest thing happened. Anne What? Julie Daniel contacted me. Anne What? Why? Julie He said he’s been trying to get in touch with you to apologise about the other night. Anne Yeah. So? Julie Well, I kind of felt bad, so I told him I’d talk to you and try to get you to respond. Anne Why? Julie Well, he said the call was from his parents and it made him freak. Anne So Why do you feel bad? Julie I’m sorry. I know you said it was a secret, but Paul and Sarah were bugging me, so I told them. I guess I’m worried that they gossiped and that’s how his parents found out about the two of you. Anne Julie! I said secret! Julie I know – like I said, I’m sorry. You know how those two can be. Anne Yeah I suppose Julie Anyway – he said that he really wants to apologise and make it up to you. Anne I dunno Julie He said he really likes you. Anne Fine. One more dinner We’ll see how it goes Julie Let me know! Anne Sure Anne Julie! Are you there? Julie Of course. What’s up? How’s the date going? Anne Amazing! You know how guys like totally don’t know how to apologise? Julie Yeah. Anne Well he just upped and apologised in the best way! Julie And you’re talking to me? What did he do? Anne He’s in the bathroom Get this To make it up to me, he wants to take me on a business trip He needs to go to Cuba And he wants me to come! Julie Wow. Cuba? But, are you sure that’s a good idea? Anne Why wouldn’t it be? Julie I don’t know. Perhaps because a couple of days ago you never wanted to see him again. Anne Yeah well Julie Anne – you there? Anne Sorry – yeah Some guy walked past our table and dropped his briefcase Accidentally picked up Daniel’s instead but I put him right Julie That seems a bit weird Anne This stuff happens ALL THE TIME when I’m with him Same when we first went out Anyway I’m here because you told me to And its Cuba! Julie I don’t know. It doesn’t seem a good idea to me. Anne Nothing funny going on We’ll have separate rooms and everything Not that we’ll need them if he takes me to Cuba Julie Slut Anne Cuba! He’s back Got to go Julie Poke Poke Poke Poke Anne – are you there? Anne – please answer. Poke Anne So Funny story Julie Oh god – you’re ok. I was so worried. Anne Yeah, I’m fine We’re both fine Julie Where were you? Why weren’t you replying? Anne Cuba Julie Slut Anne Actually its more than that Keep a secret? Julie Of course Anne Proper secret this time? Even from Paul and Sarah? Julie I said I was sorry! Anne Turns out that Daniel is actually a spy! The trip to Cuba was a cover while he did a mission! Julie? You still there? Julie Yes I’m still here. What? Anne Yeah – he’s totally a spy That story about his parents was rubbish He was being sent on a mission Julie To Cuba? Anne No That was to Paris Julie Paris? Anne Yeah. We were totally at dinner in Cuba And people started shooting guns at us So we ran away and he pulled me behind a table and got his own gun out Then he started shooting and we ran some more Julie Oh my god! Anne Then we broke into someones car and got in a car chase Ikr? Anyway, turns out I was a good partner He’s taking me to Istanbul in a couple of days Julie ??? Anne So like don’t worry or anything Turns out we’re good at it I’ll let you know when we get back We should do lunch Julie Uh huh Anne
And remember Proper secret this time
Daniel ran. It was all that he could do. He didn’t want to – no, he wanted to go back and fight, but he couldn’t.
The noise and the fire of the battle was behind him. He knew that he was betraying all of the men and women that he had trained with, that he had sworn to defend, but he could do nothing else. He was afraid. No – this was no simple fear, to be confronted and controlled. This was true terror, such as he had never before experienced. Such terror that he could do only one thing, which was to move away from the source of it as quickly as he could. He was terrified. Around him, a part of Daniel saw that others were running, just as he had. They had thrown their swords to the ground, just as he had. They still gripped their shields, as if they would offer any protection, just as he did. He wasn’t alone, and he hated himself a little less. But still he ran. The further he managed to get from the battle, the more his mind caught up with what had happened. They had been fighting together, just another border skirmish. He was in his line with the other shield carriers. Behind him a spearman, and behind them the archers. Scattered amongst them, the mages, masters of magic that was far beyond his own understanding. He had to admit, he was a little afraid of them, but he was glad to have them on his side. It had often been said that the only defence against magic was more magic. It had even been going well. They were pushing the enemy forces back. Their flanks were advancing steadily, and they were on the verge of boxing the other army in. The sergeants had shouted to hold – to leave the enemy an avenue of withdrawal. Never make your enemy too desperate, they had said. But some on the flanks didn’t listen, didn’t heed the warning. They kept advancing, at which point their fellows advanced with them. Always keep the line. Daniel had been able to see the enemy magic users over the shield wall before him. Their enemy was now few in number, and the magi had come together. He squeezed his eyes shut as he ran. He didn’t want to see it again. It didn’t help. Even in the dark of his own mind, the vision played out. The enemy magi had been chanting and moving in some kind of rhythm, like a mad dance. Suddenly, the order changed. They were to advance. No – they were to charge. They had to break through. They had to reach those magi and stop whatever they were doing. Daniel stepped forward with the rest of the line and started stabbing and chopping, working with the people to left and right to find openings and take advantage of them. It was almost over. The battle almost won. Then an arrow flew overhead and struck one of the enemy magi directly in the chest. The others screamed, as if it were they that felt the pain and the fallen man started to burn. There was no reason for it – the arrow had not been on fire, but the man burned from the inside. First his body, and then his robes. A part of Daniel felt sorry for the man – this was no way to die. The stench soon overwhelmed their front lines and they fought not to gag, fought to keep their concentration on the fight. The heat was also growing, far stronger that Daniel would have expected. The man’s hair had burned away, and he now seemed as if he had been bald. And still the other magi screamed, as if they felt the pain of the burning. The horns called for a retreat, but why? The dance had stopped, the magi were screaming and writhing in pain, rather than casting anything. The battle was all but won. The soldiers ignored the sounds and the orders. Then the screams of the magi became roars, instead of pain they now made a sound of fury and of victory hard won. The burning man stood again, his skin charred and black, and he seemed to grow. He still gave off the stench of the fire and smoke rose from him. His chest split open, spraying parts of him over his own front ranks. And something crawled out. It was naked, and its skin was red and blistered, just as the mage’s had been. It was almost human, but wrong, the limbs out of proportion, and the head too large. It had tusks, and horns. And it was growing. There was more of it emerging from the body than could have possibly been contained by it. It was soon taller than any man, and soon after that taller than any two, with breadth to match. It looked strong, and it roared its defiance, its success at having been born. And it had been that roar that brought the terror into them. That roar that had filled their minds with the horrors of what it might do to them. Daniel tripped and hit the ground, the shock sending his eyes open. The terror had lessened. He could stop. He could go back. He could find his sword and return to his fellows. He saw the same reactions, the same thought processes in those that had run with him. They slowed, some of them turned. As one though, they kept moving away from the battle. Now not out of primitive instinct, but out of intellect. There was nothing they could do to that thing. The forest was close now. Daniel knew that if he could reach the forest, he could be safe. He could lose himself in the wooded glades, and the ancient pathways. The forest was said to be haunted by something, and that those that entered did not always return. Even those that did return spoke of strange things, and it seemed that they had spent days there when they had been missing for years. That, however, was stories. It wasn’t the truth of the burning monster that might decide to follow them. The forest, whatever tales were told, was a safer prospect than that creature. And Daniel saw that many of the others fleeing felt the same way. They were starting to come together. And come together they did. They looked at each other, and saw their own feelings etched on the other faces. Looking back, they could see the creature, still growing. It was too late to turn back now – any that hadn’t fled would, by now, be dead. The only hope now was to find their way home and to warn their superiors of what had happened. Perhaps something could still be worked out, and a plan formed to destroy that thing. As one, they entered the forest. Immediately, the noise of the battle was gone, and the trees hid the fire. The canopy was high enough that they couldn’t even see the fire of the creature through them. A small stream ran past them, and they all stopped to drink. Even being close to that thing had parched them, and the run hadn’t helped. They continued on, staring at the life all around them. Birds sang in the trees, and Daniel spotted a family of deer through a break in the trees. Other creatures crawled and leapt around them, and the trees themselves almost seemed to be whispering to each other as the wind blew through their leaves. Everywhere they looked, there was life. They kept moving through the trees, unsure where they were or how deep they had gone. They knew that they needed to get through the forest, but none of them knew the way. They tried to go in as straight a line as they could, but that quickly proved impossible due to dense undergrowth. They forded streams, and climbed over fallen trees, continuing ever on. They didn’t speak – to speak would be to break the spell that the forest was casting over them, and to remind each other of that which they were fleeing. Then they turned a corner and saw stairs leading to a higher level of the woodland. Standing at the base of those steps was a woman dressed in a long, flowing dress and hood of green. She was barefoot, and her arms were likewise uncovered, and he held in her hands a bow, nocked with an arrow. The string and shaft alike glowed with a vibrant green energy. The woman tilted her head, causing her hood to drop and her blonde hair to cascade down over her shoulders. She stared at them, and they stared back. She was the first to speak, and her voice was as soft as the wind that moved through the trees, but with the hint that it could be as fierce as the storm that that same wind might become. “Why have you come to the forest, soldiers?” Daniel looked around to his fellows. None of them were officers, and none seemed inclined to speak up. They all simply looked at each other, each hoping somebody else would answer. “We mean no harm, ma’am,” Daniel eventually said after it became clear that nobody else was going to. “We were involved in a battle outside, and we came here seeking safety.” She nodded slowly as she took them all in. She relaxed the bow in her hands, and the green energy evaporated. “I cannot promise you safety,” she said. “The forest does as the forest wills. However, harm none and it will likely not harm you. Why do you come here? Surely, you have heard the stories of what this forest can do to folk?” Daniel nodded emphatically. “Yes, ma’am. We’ve heard. But, begging your pardon, ma’am, what was outside was worse than any story.” She raised an eyebrow. “And what awaits you outside?” At this they all spoke, all trying to explain to her what had happened. They spoke over each other, everybody trying to tell the story in a different order. She let them speak and, after a few moments, held up a hand to stop them. “They called forth a demon,” she said. “They must have been desperate. Very well – the forest will grant you sanctuary, though I cannot promise you will depart as you have arrived.” She moved to walk past them. “Where are you going?” asked Daniel, surprising himself. She looked over her shoulder as she left, heading back the way they had come. “That demon will not be permitted entry. I am Keeper of this forest and the task of ensuring that falls to me.” She drew her bow again, the green energy reigniting upon it. Then, resolute as the trees that surrounded her, she strode into the forest to hunt, and to do battle. |
Flash FictionSome shorter fiction, usually based on some kind of challenge. Archives
October 2021
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