Sarah

As she shifted, the cane stool creaked. Its echoing reverberated across the empty room. Sarah picked at her blood encrusted fingernails. Slowly, defiantly her eyes raised to stare directly into the black two-way glass. Her back ached after hours in this position, but Sarah refused to slump; betray any emotion, to plead innocence or to beg for mercy.

“We wait for a sign.”

“Isn’t that enough? She tries to rid herself of evidence.”

“A nervous tick. She is a child.”

“Guardian, one might mistake your compassion for weakness.” 

Hooded eyes stared back at the girl, his fists clenched. “We wait for a sign”

A tiny fly circled the room like a fighter pilot, attracted by the heady aroma of blood in this sterile white and chrome land. Sarah stiffened, sending a prayer to Gods she had long stopped believing in. 

“She has been marked.”

The girl had closed her eyes, a single tear glistened and traced its way down her cheek.

Blood trickled from the Guardians’ palms where fingernails had pressed deeply. 

“Witch, you have condemned yourself by summoning your beasts. Prepare for your sentence.” A triumphant swirl of robes exited the viewing room.

“Sarah.” A bloodied hand slid unseen down the black glass. 

Her eyes found his. “Father.”

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This is a first draft, submitted as part of a transmediation project between Stanthorpe Art Gallery and Stanthorpe Writers Group.

Below are photos of the piece of art which served as the inspiration, and the exhibition on display at the Stanthorpe Art Gallery.

art work is "Sarah" by Fu Hong. Permission for reproducing the photograph by Stanthorpe Art Gallery.

FGC #28 The Staircase.

This story has been pulled offline in order to polish and submit to a competition.. wish me luck!

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This was written in response to Write Anything's Form and Genre Challenge  FGC #28 Time Travel.

Words: 2894

Traitors Truth FGC (2012) #20

Hair hung over the prisoners eyes. His head bowed as a thin line of blood and drool languidly reached his lap. The cold muzzle of a laser gun pressed into his chin and forced it upward. The guard leered, flashing a mouth of silver teeth. A shiver of fabric moved behind the guard as a newcomer stepped into view.

“So this is the pretender.”  Hands which had never seen battle or hard work placed themselves on hips swathed in expensive cloth.

The prisoner brought his eyes to meet the new interrogator. “I am Prince Fekhe, son of Emperor Seth, Nephew to the usurped Prince Regent Ricco. Brother to Prince Zane and to Queen Elspeth. ” He spat blood onto the metal floor. “Your wife. I am the rightful ruler, by virtue of birth; Not you, riding on the slipstream of murder and treachery. ”

“Prince Fekhe and Zane disappeared when they were chldren.” Emperor Rory coloured as his hands slowly gripped into a fist. “You are accused of treason, of raising an army against your Emperor and falsifying your identity. Your court case has been nothing short of a circus act.”

Fekhe smiled. “And here we are. Behind closed doors and away from the legal system you so dearly love. You have had nothing to prove I am not who I say I am. You can’t discredit me. You can’t ignore who I am.”

Growling,the guard brought the flat of his gun across Fekhe’s jaw. “Stand before your Emperor.”

Rory winced as blood gushed from Fekhe nose, but immediately controlled his reaction. Fekhe swayed but managed to continue to stand. The two mens eyes burnt into each other.  Rory stepped closer hissing. “You don’t look like a prince to me. A monkey is fine clothes. Falsified fingerprints, altered DNA from one of the outlaw colonies with questionable scientific practices. You may look like him, but you are no prince.”

A polite cough interrupted his barrage. “The United Treaty is very clear about the treatment of all prisoners.”

Rory breathed in his retort and pushed the prisoner back into his seat. Turning with a thin smile he acknowledge the Cardinal and court recorders in the corner, his eyes flickering momentarily to the blank reflective wall behind them. “And you can all be assured this prisoner will be dealt within the appropriate manner.” 

Fekhe wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where was the United Treaty when my brother was murdered in this very building? Why was there never a public out cry or investigation?”

Glaring at Fekhe, Rory hissed again, “You would be best to stay silent.”

Fekhe laughed mirthlessly. “Or what?  How can my situation possibly get any worse?”  He stared at the dull reflective wall hiding officials from the court. “ By my Gods, I hope this investigation is being beamed live to every corner of the known universe. Let the people decide who is telling the truth, who has things to hide.”

Rory stormed out of the room realising that the longer he stayed, the more opportunity Fekhe had in gaining sympathy and groundswell sympathy for his case. He passed the glass window open onto the interrogation room, noting the stony silence of his mother  as she stared straight into the room. Her body was stiff and unrelenting as he approached and laid his hands on her shoulders.

“You need to finish this Rory. Its become more than an inconvenience. Every day he lives as Prince Fekhe, your grip on the Empire loosens. I will not see war again. Not in my lifetime.” 

His court members melted out of the room, leaving the two figures to stare into the brightly lit interrogation room. Rory drew himself high and breathed in, refusing to look at his mother. “There are times, mother, I think you have plotted your entire life just to be the mother of the Emperor. That everything you have done was for that purpose and not for me at all.”

“I serve the people, Rory. You would do well to do the same.”

Froth formed at Rory’s mouth as he pointed into the room. “He is not Prince Fehke. He has no right to the Empire.”

Constance stood and smoothed her gown. “I have little doubt who is acting as an Emperor aught right now.” She glid past him, her train whispering past his feet. A stab of horror rushed through him as he suddenly saw his mother in a new light. Scheming, manipulative; a the spider in a huge web encompassing the empire.

Straight to the skift waiting on the private dock. He slumped into the seat and glared at his advisor as he settled into the seat opposite. As the hatches hissed to a close, Rory squeezed the bridge of his nose and exhaled.  “I thought that being the ruler meant I could do as I pleased. Treat people the way I felt they needed to be treated.” He glared at the silent advisor, “Conduct my justice system the way I felt it best suited.”

“I’m sorry, my Lord that’s not the case at all.”

Rory pounded the arms of his chair and gripped his chin as he fixed his stare out the window. His city lay beneath them as they sped over the highrises.

“I’ve more news which may not sit well.”

Rory snorted. “My day can’t get any worse.”

“I’m afraid it may, my Lord. The ambassador for Queen Aquaitannia of NewSpain has suddenly arrived with a horde of lawyers to discuss the marriage between your son and their Eissabella. You must know that they’ve been following the rumours of the pretender for some time and before you became Emperor, the Lanx family and theirs were closely linked.”

Before Rory could explode further, the Skift came to a halt and its doors opened slowly. Attendants bowed offering hot towels and cool refreshments. 

The advisor indicated with a sweeping arm. “I’ve arranged for the ambassador and his entourage to await your pleasure in the Northern Gardens.”

Grasping a towel and patting his face, Rory grunted, “We will go directly. No use in avoiding the inevitable.”  

Rory painted a thin smile cross his face as the doors opened into the gardens. Music stopped and all of the palace attendants bowed as the Emperor strode in. He sat in the largest lounger and gestured for the guests to take their seats.”Antonio Pergissi. Welcome again to Botania. Forgive me for not greeting you when you arrived. I was otherwise occupied.”

Antonio bowed low. “Emperor. Thank you for receiving us so early. To be blunt, we are not interested in your petty family squabbles. As I’ve come to discuss the agreements of the marriage between our royal families. My Queen has some concerns as these new developments you are exploring may deter this indefinitely.”

Rory bit into an apple and chewed deliberately. “ Don’t tell me that Queen Aquiatainnia is entertaining the thought that this pretender is legitimate? Please assure her that we take our justice system very seriously and are ensuring that there can be no mistake when the final decision is made on his claims.” 

“Prince Fekhe is very convincing. It brings many questions up.”

“The prisoner is a clear fraud. Don’t refer him with any royal title. We don’t even know what his real name is.”

“It would be more palatable, for everyone, if the disappearances of Prince Fekhe and Prince Zane were solved.”

Rory slammed his arms on the chair. “Damn it. That happened before my reign even began. The Gods only know what happened to those two boys when their uncle took them into protective custody. I was in exile for the Gods sake.”

Pergissi cocked an eyebrow smiling, “And Prince Regent Ricco proclaimed himself ruler, the boys disappeared without a royal burial or any investigation. Seems odd, even for this planet; wouldn't you agree?” Rory crunched loudly into his apple glowering at the ambassador as he held court with the tale everyone had heard.  “The Prince Regent Ricco is then defeated by your armies and you are advised to marry the boys sister Elspeth to forge your royal claim. So neat. Tidy.”

“Your point Ambassador?”

“Only that Queen Aquiatainnia is concerned about stability. Our colonies and empires work on a suspicious level of trust at best. She needs to be reassured that there will be no surprises. She is thinking of her people. War is such an expensive and mindless waste of resources. Especially if it is merely family squabbles.” 

Rory flicked the apple core behind him and drained a glass of wine. “ I couldn't agree more Ambassador. Reassure your queen that this matter will be brought to an end quickly and we can discuss more enjoyable topics shortly.”  He waved him away and ordered more wine, indicating clearly that the audience was at an end.

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After Ambassador Pergissi had overseen his personal belongings settled into his quarters, he wandered amongst the halls and found himself in a large room, comfortably furnished with sofas and a roaring fireplace. The Advisor beckoned him over and handed him a warmed cup of the planets liqueur.  “You’ve come at an inopportune time I am afraid. Our court is not at its best. I can assure you that it will be resolved within days. ”

Pergissisi took a sip. “ No need for such gentleness. We all have our spys everywhere.”

Pouring himself a drink, the advisor smiled nervously at the ambassador.  “Then you know in next few days the pretender will be discredited and executed. No-one is concerned.” 

“If the Emperor is not concerned, then why is he personally overseeing the interrogation? Why does the Queen sit outside every day?”

The advisor looked toward the door and sat beside Pergissi.” Its true your spies are the best in the empire then. Fekhe knows things. Family specific events only someone who had been there would know. He knows of private moments, jokes and nicknames. The Queen has been brought to tears with those memories.”

“Trickery, surely. He may been trained by someone.” 

The advisor took a long sip and stared into the fire. “You cannot buy memories. Not the shared experiences of siblings.”

“Our Eissabella will marry the next in line to the throne; be it this Prince Fekhe or Rorys lad.Its up to me to decide where our allegiance aught to lay.”

The advisor hook his head. “Who ever he is, this Fehke’s existence threatens the fragile peace we hold. Emperor Rory is not well loved. A resurgence of loyalty to a dead lineage is not what we can control.”

Pergissi nodded. “The outer colonies flocked to his charismatic charm, to his fine clothes and promises of equality. It will be most intriguing what will unfold. Regardless of the outcome sir, our roles will remain unchanged. The ruler - whoever they are, needs advisors and ambassadors.”

The men drained their glasses, nodded to one another and made their way to their bedchambers.

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The lights in Fekhe’s cell had not been dimmed for the evening when the door slid open. He turned his head to appraise his visitor, surprised to see Constance stride in, leaving her guards on the outside. 

“Don’t bother to stand. I am only here for a moment.” She withdrew a tablet from her coat and waved her hand over the dark glass display. “Your wife and sons have been welcomed into the city.” An image of a room within the palace focused, showing a security display of his family unpacking and exploring the space. “They are unharmed and will remain so as long as you listen carefully to what I have to say.”

Fekhe gripped his knees, forcing them to be still. “I’m listening.”

Constance regarded him for long moments. “You’ve done well for yourself. Gathering the sympathy of colonies who feel they have been left in the cold. Gaining the hand of the Princess of Scoshia was a masterful touch. You must have put on quite a show.”

“What is it that you want?”

“Peace.”

Fehke stared at her, unable to comprehend the word.

She flicked her hand over the screen again. Images of riots and angry crowds in streets flickered past. ” These are scenes my spies have sent me over the last day. The outer colonies want answers. They want a ruler and justice system they can rely on. You have been a thorn in our side for months, unsettling the delicate balance this empire has with peace. If it is found you are Prince Fehke, we will have civil war. Entire cities will be risk. Our empire will not only fight itself, but allow the outer worlds to invade. We must remain strong, united.”

“I am Prince Fekhe. You can’t deny that. Deny me my right to rule.” 

“You will be executed regardless. If you die as a royal, your family will be hunted down. Your sons will never know a nights sleep. They will live in constant fear.”

“And if I die as a commoner?”

“If you admit your pretence, your family will live within this palace as guests. After all, they are royalty in their own right. You have my word.”

She turned on her heel and left, the door sealing shut as he began to weep.

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Later that evening, a hiss woke Fekhe as he lay uncomfortably on the cold stretcher in his cell. He watched as the figures huddled in the doorway; their whispers too feint for him to make out the conversation. The bulkier figure stepped away, leaving the door open as the slighter one fidgeted before rushing in.

The dim night lights within his cell allowed him to see Queen Elspeth only as she knelt beside him. He stared into her clear blue eyes as she tentatively reached her hand out and brushed back his fringe. “I knew it was you the moment I saw you.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “There’s not much time. I only wish I had more to talk to you.”

Fekhe grasped her hand and pushed himself up. “What are you doing here?”

Her top lip quivered, “I can get you out, smuggle you away. My husband will kill you.” She put her hand on his chest. “ I’ve lost you once. I couldn’t bear the thought that I can save you only to allow -”

“Where would I run to?  What would I do?  I am who I am and I must believe that justice will prevail.”

Tears ran freely down her face. “Damn it Fekh, Why are you always so stubborn? You were as a boy and now - Take the chance to escape. Please. For me.”

“What about my wife, my sons? I can’t run and protect them. I am the rightful ruler; by blood. But our Empire needs peace.”

“You don’t think the Emperor knows that? That the colonies are on the verge of uprisal, just waiting for the excuse to follow you?”

Fehke gently took her hand and kissed it. “My tender hearted sister. Peace has its price. Its bigger than just one individual. We will always know who I am and was. But for peace to have a chance. I need to be the deceiver.” 

Elspeth laid her head on his chest and sobbed. Her shoulders heaved as she drew gasps of air. Fekhe laid his cheek on her head and rubbed her back.

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He was woken roughly the next morning and not allowed to wash or change clothes. Guards pushed him through the series of passageways until they reached a large open space. Giant screens captured the beading of sweat on his forehead and the anguished look knitting his brow as he stood in front of the panel of judges. His eyes found Elspeth, whose face was puffy from crying. She had her arm around his wife who looked confused and panicked. 

Fekhe looked directly at the Emperor. “I committed treason against my ruler by taking on the identity of a royal and raising sympathy for my false cause. I was born a commoner, the son of a ships mechanic. I pray to my Gods for their mercy as I expect none from this court.”

Rory leapt to his feet and punched the air with his fists. “Traitor, by the powers of this court I sentence you to immediate execution.”

Elspeth withdrew from the balcony and collapsed against her lady in waiting. Huge heaving sobs racked her body.

Fekh turned and allowed the guards to push him toward the platform. His body was numb as they placed his hands on the large orbs. He closed his eyes as he whispered prayers to his Gods. It would be over shortly. The pain of his life would end. he felt the platform raise and halt, knowing that the scene would be beamed across the Empire. A bolt of energy pulsed through his body. He jolted as his muscles contracted and expanded rapidly.  Fekh found he was unable to move. The magnetic field surrounded his body and held it in place. 

A slight head movement from the Emperor signalled the final step with the execution. A huge bolt of pure energy pulsed into the magnetic field, incinerating the body held within it. The blue magnetic field evaporated as the last flake of blackened ash fell to the floor.

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This was written in response to Write Anything's Form and Genre Challenge , #20 Space Opera.

Words - 2886

This was also submitted to Friday Flash  ( though technically its a wee bit long for a flash.. it kind of just kept growing)

Ahab Amor FGC (2012) #2

Tiarna stumbled through the undergrowth, her heart hammering as her breath laboured in the unfamiliar atmosphere. Her body ached as it was weighed down under the dense gravity. Every movement felt as though she fought her limbs through treacle.

There was no need to look behind her. The crashing of saplings behind forced her unwilling body to continue.

Feeling for her side arm, she cursed unashamedly as she realised it had been lost in the struggle moments ago. Her legs screamed as she continued to pound them through the undergrowth.

She fought towards an opening into the jungle as light streamed through the vines. Tiarna clutched at a sapling to push her way into the golden beams, lost her balance as she realised the ground had also disappeared and her body flung helplessly downward. Her fingers tightened their grip around the sturdy trunk of the tree as she dared a peak at what lay below her. Her feet tingled as the expanse below her yawned wide. The crashing in the jungle above her had stopped. She listened hoping the pursuit had turned away from her perilous hiding spot. Hearing heavy footfalls gather speed away from her, Tiarna decided to attempted to push herself up against the crumbling rockface.  She calculated the drop to the rushing water beneath her was probably more than what she was willing to risk falling into.

Tiny rocks crumbled at the lip of the cliff, spilling over and showering her. as one of her pursuers steadied himself as he came to a halt above her. He face, crinkled like orange peel slowly registering his disbelief that he had lost his prey. Tiarna clung to the tree staring up at the stocky legs and brutal blade stained with the blood of her shipmates. 

He scanned the churning water and slowly checked the ledge. He sadistic smile widened as he locked his eyes on hers. His thickened arm brought his machete skyward. Tiarna closed her eyes and pushed herself away from the cliff, kicking her legs at the rockface to give her extra distance. The water below seemed close enough but as she hung in the air, she realised she’d misjudged the distance and prayed that it was deep enough to take her impact.

All too quickly, the icy cold drove the air from her lungs as she slammed into the water. Sharp pain shot through her chest as the raging river carried her buoyant body down stream.  Above the water, she heard the roar of her pursuer as he watched her escape.   In the wispy green froth of a backwashed eddy, she floated toward an edge. Tiarna dimly attempted to scratch her way into the bank, crying out in pain as something pulled at her shoulder and dragged her ashore.

Fading in and out of consciousness, she felt the warmth of a body as she was cradled and carried through a sparse forest. She screamed as she was jolted over the rough ground. Her world mercifully went black.

Snapping of twigs and a crackle of fire awoke Tiarna. She grunted as a dull ache in her chest reminded her of her tumble from the cliff. A large form stood from his crouched position near the fire and ambled hesitatedly across to her.  Its hairy face peered at hers as it extended one of its limbs across to her. 

“Damn it. Sorry, I don’t have my translator on me.” Tiarna brushed her hair from her face and attempted to push herself to a sitting position. She kept her face neutral, unsure what the welcoming protocol might be with this unfamiliar species. “ Uh. Hi. Greetings.”

A chair scraped across the wooden flooring and confident steps approached from behind the couch she way laying on.

“Pixy. No touching our guest.”  A more familiar human shape slid round the couch and knelt beside her. “Oh good. You’re awake. I wasn’t sure of the doseage for pain relief. Are you comfortable at least?”

Tiarna frowned but nodded. A fluffy pale blue face peeked over the mans shoulder. Two long fingers stole their way onto his shoulder.

The man reached up and patted them, smiling at Tiarna. “Water monkey. Only found on this planet. Very rare. Extremely intelligent species.”

Tiarna  swivelled her neck, taking in the simplicity of the cabin she lay in. It appeared to be one room, well sealed against the elements, basic necessities catered for, but no technology. She grasped at the mans shirt, pulling him close. “Where am I?”

Pixy’s top lip curled as a guttural growl reverberated around the cabin.  Xander stroked the monkey’s hand. “Its ok, Pixy. Go and boil the kettle for us, will you?” Pixy’s lips pursed as he frowned at Tiarna. Reluctantly with a sharp squeak, he ambled over to the fireplace.

The mans patient smile disarmed Tiarnas wariness. “You’re in shock and you’ve got a pretty nasty injury from your escape. I’m pretty certain most species across the universe begin with introducing themselves.” Those soft lips turned upwards as he smiled. “I’m Xander and this” as he gestured to the interior. “is my home. Pixy here found you at the side of the river. I’m not sure what you were wearing onboard, but it was pretty tatty by the time I found you. Sorry, but Pixy had torn most of it off you by the time I got there.” A slight flush rose from his throat. He stumbled on, “You were wet and moonfall on this planet drops the temperatures to sub zero temperatures. I. Erm.. ” The slight flush continued to colour his throat. “ had to undress you and get you decent again.”

Tiarna loosened her grip on his shirt; suddenly aware of the proximity between the two and shocked as her body reacted to him. She flattened her hand against his chest, allowing a moment to delight in the firmness underneath his cotton shirt. Her breath shortened as her heart hammered. She could feel the blood rise around her own cheeks. Swallowing hard, she dropped her hand; hoping he’d not sensed the flare of hormones she thought had died within her; killed off by relentless training and self control.

Tiarna  smiled, “Thank you. For saving me and for” she looked down at the well worn settlers smock and trousers, “Well, for making sure I didn’t freeze. Its fine; really.”  

His hand caressed her tight grip. “What do you remember?”

She flickered her eyes away from his steady gaze and forced herself to take  a deep breath. “My shipmates. All dead. It was an ambush. We had no chance. The blood.” Tiarna  raised her eyes up, tears forming. “All I can hear, are my shipmates screaming. I feel like such a coward. I ran. I just kept running. I should have stayed. Should have tried to help.”

His arms slithered around her and gently held her as she shook. She allowed her form to meld into his. Alarmed at her lack of self control she attempted to push him away. 

”I’m not normally like this. I’m sorry.” She attempted to straighten and sit up. His arms loosened, but continued to press against hers as his hand rubbed her back gently. Tiarna shook her head and took a deep breath. She could feel her heart racing as his hand continued to stoke her shoulder. “Where exactly are we?” looking towards the door fearfully.  “Its just that - those men, those things. I’ve seen them before. Normally bounty hunters. They’ll find us. Find me. They never stop until; ” She clasped a hand over her throat.

Xander smoothed the blanket she had on her lap across her legs slowly. Tiarna could feel every nerve ending tingle. His hands remained on the edge of the blanket, his fingers brushing her thigh. “That remains to be seen. Its dark out and will be for another 20 hours. Moonrise is only short this spin. Bounty hunter or not. They’d have to be good trackers to find us with no moon or trail tonight.” Xander smiled again. It made Tiarna relax.   “Lets try again. You are?”

“Tiarna. From The Ullu sector.” She flickered her eyes up to see if he picked her lie. She couldn't afford for this stranger, no matter how attractive or caring he seemed, to suspect who, or what she was.  “Our supply ship was on a routine drop to Settlers Cove.” Tiarna ’s fingers gripped the blanket. “We had nothing special on board. Nothing you’d kill anyone over. Instead of landing at the main dock, we were instructed to put down in a clearing a short way from it. Nothing unusual about that either. We do those sorts of things for new colony’s all the time. Most of you settlers don’t have any transport, so we just try and help out where we can. One moment we are lugging boxes and the next I hear screams. They way they looked at me. I knew I was next. I ran into the jungle.”  Tiarna’s breath became ragged.”So cowardly. I should have stayed.” She clawed at her throat making red marks across it. “Blood gushing out like theirs, screaming like they were.” Tiarna  began to gasp.  “So senseless. We had nothing of any value. Not really.”

She wheezed as the words caught in her throat, suddenly wondering if her identity had been discovered. She’d been so careful. Not even her shipmates suspected that she was anything other than space flotsam, interested only in the next cargo run. Xander’s hand ran up her arm and brushed across her cheek. His smile calmed her as the air between them sparked with intention.

“If you don’t mind me saying, apart from all your shipmates being murdered, your ship destroyed and a bunch of bounty hunters on your trail trying to tie up some lose ends, you seem to be pretty stressed.”

Tiarna  looked at Xanders solemn face incredulously. He burst out laughing and was quickly joined by her infectious giggle.  She howled with laughter and wiped away her tears.  “I don’t think I’ve laughed like that in years.”

He shrugged. “Laughter always helps to lighten the mood. Now, you’ll need some rest so the wound on your leg can heal. I’ve patched it up as best as I can, but you’ll need a medic.”

Tiarna flushed, realising that she had to trust him a little. “I can’t go to a human medic, I;” 

Xanders hand brushed against her cheek as he stood. “I’ve met Stelio before. Despite what you think, you aren’t that different. At least, from what I have seen.”

Her flush deepened as she realised that none of her ships uniform had remained on her body.  Xander brought her a steaming cup of tea. “Monkey made. The best you’ll have planetside.”

Pixy watched her intensely as she took her first sip, clapped as she smiled and snuggled into a bed of rags beside the fireplace. 

“Goodnight Miss Tiarna. Don’t worry about those three hunters. With the discharge from your burning ship, there is no way they’ll find a trail on you. We can look at options to get you onto a ship back to Nissar in the morning.”

Tiarna dozed as the painkillers dulled her senses. She woke suddenly as the events of the evening began to process. She moved her head round as the flickering of the fire played shadows on the walls.  Pixy’s mound moved rhythmically to what she suspected as its sleep pattern.  She relaxed as she heard deep breathing from a darkened corner. Tiarna slipped the blanket off her legs and attempted to put weight onto one leg. Pain shot through her body and she was forced to accept she would be unable to escape on foot. Tiarna’s fingers tingled as her suspicions began to rise about her rescuer. She’d not mentioned her ships demise, nor told him how many attackers there were. She’d initially found it strange that he hadn’t reacted when he looked at her. Tiarna flushed. He had to have seen her undressed and hadn’t been repulsed with her soft scaly chest.  Her species were not known to travel outside their solar system and although she was humanoid enough to pass casual scrutiny, her peoples lizard features were not generally considered attractive. They did, however, make up this feature with other skills. 

Her heart hammered as she thought of Xander laying in bed only a few feet away from her.   It had been years since she’d yearned for the press of another body against hers. Tiarna quickly quashed her wandering thoughts and looked around for a weapon. In the morning, she was determined to find out who he was and how he knew so much about her and the name of her home planet. 

A tiny blade, most likely from his megre food preparation area, lay on the table beside the couch. Tiarna picked it up to study it, quickly pushing it under the blankets as she heard Xander shift in his bed.  She turned to look at his form, shocked to discover he was standing behind her.

“I’m sorry Tiarna.” She padded over to the couch in bare feet and stood in front of her.  “You were just a job. Your shipmates. Regrettable but necessary.”

Tiarnas eyes flickered into slits, her camouflage disintegrating as her emotions began to discharge. “Just a job?”

“To find a Stelio this far from her home planet? Alone? Collectors from all round are desperate to secure your services.”

 “Services. You humans don’t even have enough words in your vocabulary to describe what I can do.”

“I’m sorry Tiarna. I didn’t mean to sound so cold. I only meant.”

She spat venomously “So all this was just a ploy. You knew who I was straight away.”

Xander brought out a communicator. “I knew. I was back up. They told me you’d fallen into the water and I was meant to intercept you and bring you in.”

“So why am I still here and not in some cage?”

Xander  flushed. “You looked so .. helpless. I didn’t expect you to be so beautiful. I’ve never - ” He shook his head. “Not cross species before.”

He set the communicator down. “They’re still looking for you. I told them you’d never made it down as far as me. The gators in that river get pretty big.”

Tiarnas eyes widened.

“Between you and me though - they don’t live in the fast running water sections - but don’t tell anyone - it keeps people away from these parts.”

Tiarna’s fingers felt for the hidden blade and inched it toward her palm.  “So what happens now?”

He sat beside her and brushed a hand across her hair. “You’ve no idea how hard it is to be in the same room as you. I’d always heard about the Stelio; about their effect on others. But never believed.”  One hand slid down to her arm which hid the blade. He moved in closer, his hot breath tickled her throat. “Its hard for me to work out what is natural attraction and what you are controlling.” His hand fondled the fingers which covered the blade.  “I say we take our chances.”  

Tiarnas breath shortened. She’d never felt the rush of emotions which now coursed though her body.  “Run? Hide?” She’d been running all of her life. Running from who and what she was. She rubbed her face against his and nibbled at his ear, whispering, “We are hardly inconspicuous with a Water Monkey in tow.”

Xander’s lips met hers;  lingering as they breathed in one another’s desire.  Tiarna dismissed the blade and brought her hand up around the back of his neck. 

He breathed, “We are hardly inconspicuous with a Stelio.”

As Xanders hands clutched around her body, his stunray clattered to the floor.

Tiarnas fingernails ripped the back of his shirt as he pushed her onto the couch. Her eyes glittered in the firelight “I say we take our chances together.”

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Word Count : 2 654


Ahab Amor - loose translation ( mixed languages)  - for the passion of love.

This story was written in response to Write Anything's Form and Genre Challenge ( Romance) and currently still in draft format - awaiting final polish from feedback.

This story was submitted for #2 of FGC.

This  was also submitted to Friday Flash.

Precipice

Yale fiddled with the heavy pottery mug, swishing the remnants of the inky contents around at the bottom. He looked up as he felt the waitress hover at his elbow. He answered her disinterested gaze with a slight shake of his head and drew his mug closer to his chest. She thrust a small credit box in front of him and eyed the ceiling while he slid his card through the verification slot. It blinked momentarily before displaying the positive credit message. Yale hadn't realised he was holding his breath until the waitress slouched away. He rubbed the card, silently thanking the Gods he was not allowed to believe in. Bringing the mug towards his mouth he halted to stare into its oily surface.

Other patrons hunched in their booths, peering similarly into their own cups. Cigarette smoke hung lifelessly above their heads. Yale slurped the dregs in his mug, gritting his teeth to strain the coffee granules from the liquid. As he stood, he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth; taking the moment to surreptitiously glance around the diner. 

A downtrodden workforce, discouraged from social gatherings or frivolous conversations kept their eyes downturned; interested in only finishing their meal and returning to their places of toil. She hadn’t come. 

In a split moment, Yale had breathed freely but was immediately struck with a stab of disappointment. Why hadn’t she met him as she’d promised?

His feet rooted to the spot as he fumbled in his top pocket for his work I.D card. After pressing his thumb against the translucent screen, a tiny green readout flickered above it. He wasn’t rostered on for another six hours. Not long enough to get home to sleep, but too long to continue to drink coffee and wait for a girl he shouldn’t be seen with in the first place. 

A shuffling mass sloped up to his booth and grunted. Yale shuffled to the side and pulled his fingerless gloves from another pocket. Neither man met the others eyes as they pushed past one another. The smell of hot grease and chemical fumes soaked into the others jacket wound their way round Yale.

At any other time, this might not have worried Yale. The rank, unwashed masculine smell which permeated his nostrils wasn’t the aroma he’d been planning to drink in this evening. He shook his head as he strode over to the door, mentally reminding himself to slow his gait down. Excitable movements with purpose or energy always rose suspicion. Yale furtively glanced up and down the street, hoping to see her waiting in the shadows for him. He could still feel her soft hand, damp with expectation as it brushed against his at the end of  every shift for the last month. Intoxicated by last nights’ brief exchange as they pushed past one another at the coffee booth, Yale had been counting the moments until he could see her again. She’d breathed only three words before disappearing. “Walk with me.”

Yale’s stomach had knotted at the thought of wandering away from the grid of society; even for a moment; even to spend time with this girl he didn’t know. But, he’d nodded immediately; she smiled slightly and left.

He pushed his way outside and stood in the street, closing his eyes and imagined her face. Perhaps she had to work an extra shift and was rushing even now to meet him. Yale turned on his heel and began to walk as slowly as his excitement would allow him.  He hunched his shoulders against the biting wind and began to walk.

Hurried heavy steps behind him soon caught up with him before a gloved hand grasped his shoulder. 

“Where are you going Friend?”

Yale lowered his eyes and inspected the shiny shoes of the two enforcers who has stopped him. “For a walk, Amigo.”

“You passed a tram station a moment ago. Our city has excellent public transport and yet you walked passed it? Where are you going?”

“Just for a walk. Nowhere really.”

Senior  Amigo held his hand out. “Your I.D, Friend.”

Yale pulled his glove off and exposed his wrist. Buddy scanned it and frowned as a holographic image of Yale appeared above his device. 

“A factory technician with Integrated Technologies. No prior history. Prolific supporter of our solitary cause.” His lined face creased as the frown deepened. “ A true Friend then are you Yale?”

“Of course Amigo. Solidarity through Solitude.”

Yale kept his tone even, respectful; tempering his fear with deep breaths. 

“Walking alone is very irregular.” 

“Seeking Solitude.”

“Too smart an answer for a technician. Dissenter, trouble maker ; more the like.”

“I meant no disrespect, Amigo. I was just walking.”

“But for no purpose. Going nowhere.  Everyone has a place to go to. Everyone has their purpose in the day and in their lives.  Our city can’t operate if people like yourself go for walks with no destination.”

Yale seethed but forced his eyes to remain lowered. Senior Amigo thrust his baton under Yale’s chin putting pressure on his adams apple. Yale’s head was compelled to raise and their eyes met. The shocking view of another’s face so close to his forced Yale’s breath out of his lungs. His heart hammered.

“Or perhaps, Friend, you were off to meet someone? She didn’t turn up tonight did she?” 

Senior Amigo nodded at his college and stepped to  the side.

Yale felt a jolt from behind as the smaller Amigo pushed him forward. He stumbled on the rough cobbled walkway, catching himself on a large dumpster. Grasping the edge, he pulled himself up, fleetingly touching a soft, cold spongy shape, jutting out of the top.

The lump in Yales throat bobbed as bile rose as he realised it was an hand. Her hand.

“Lucky for you we found her. Now the two of you can talk, ” Amigo hawked and spat nosily on the ground, “As much as you like.”

A blinding light exploded behind Yales eyes as he fell forward in a bloody heap.

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This is a first draft.

PROMPT:   Use this sentiment or theme for your story “A Culture of Solitude”

This story inspired by the [Fiction Friday] prompt at Write Anything  and submitted to JM Strother’s #FridayFlash via Twitter.  

Its also recorded as a Spoken Sunday on Audioboo of Precipice

Rapture in the 22nd century

The prompt  over at Write Anything  this week looks at what the end of the world. (Given it was slated in for last Saturday evening.)

As always, this is in first draft format.  I have picked up a blog serial I used to play with surrounding Turion ( see below for more info about it)

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Turion wound an extra layer of think cloth round the stubs of his fingers and palm, allowing the ends of his digits dextrous freedom. The deserts’ chilled air had begun to creep into the cockpit and quietly numbed his extremities.

His constant companion, the tiny sound system only played three ballads and sat beside his head as he worked. He hummed to his mothers favourite philosophers fish bowl song. The words to Mr Floyd's song had never made much sense to him; but he adored his mother and the way she sang it. The light was beginning to fade and he knew he needed to work quickly to secure the spare parts the Village needed. A tiny screw fell onto the rusting flooring of the shuttle. Turions shoulder protested as he twisted to retrieve it, secreting it in his cargo pants.Although he thought the elders mightn’t be worried about his keeping it; Turion wasn’t going to take any chances. he had plenty of little projects which he could use extra parts like the screw in.

The next philosophers work thumped out its tune proclaiming joy for the end of the world. Turion grinned. For learned people, Mr Floyd and Mr Rem and had a grim grasp on their future; his past. Turion looked about the cockpit and wondered what other secrets from the 21st century lay hidden inside the wreckage. He squinted at the wiring above his head. “It will have to wait till tomorrow.” He twisted his tool delicately.  “There you are my beauty.” Turions face lit up as he carefully wriggled the circuit board free from its cradle. 

He tucked it into his backpack and picked his way through the field littered with battle-scared and defunct robots and pieces of transporters. Apart from Chrishmash; May the 24th or Rapture Night was his favourite festival. He hoped to boost the sound from his system so that the entire Village square could share the three ballads from the 21st Century. Perhaps this year, the storyteller would share more about life in the citadel, or about the perfect life humans led in the 20th century. Turion rubbed his malformed legs. Perhaps this year, his mother would speak about the endless water inside the citadel. He squeezed himself and grinned. Turion didn’t mind who told a story. Rapture Night was perfect.

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This is a first draft.

PROMPT: 

The end of the world has been penciled in by a number of religions and groups. How is your character preparing for it?

Authors Note: some background history which has come to me about Turion - in no particular order here are some of the other short stories about Turions world.

Wish you were here
Stranger
Pining for the moon
Chrismis

The beginning 

Ana Asraf 

Story inspired by the [Fiction Friday] prompt at Write Anything  and submitted to JM Strother’s #FridayFlash via Twitter. 

I do plan for this story to be recorded and posted up for Spoken Sunday via Audio Boo at a later stage.... whether it happens or not is a different matter.