Fiction Fragment Friday

I honestly have no idea what inspired this story. I do know that I wrote it while out of town and was delayed uploading because of that. I do enjoy how it turned out though.

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                “I’m just so sick of this.  I can’t take it anymore.  The same dream again every night over and over.  No rest.  I can’t sleep, but I can’t wake up in the morning either.  I’m just so exhausted it’s hard to even move.”

                “How does that make you feel?”  I look up from over my notebook at my patient appreciating the expression of frustration on his face.  He is on the verge of exploding which brings me such pleasure, but I can’t let that happen.  I hold up my right hand with the pen between my fingers in a placating gesture.  “Kidding, kidding.  I know now a good time for a joke, but in my line of work I can’t not make it.”

                I watch the emotions cross my patient’s face.  Anger, frustration and finally despair.  “Walk me through your dream again.”  I lift my notebook up and position my pen to take notes.  I want my body language to tell him that he has my undivided attention. 

                “I’m standing in a burning warehouse.  Bodies are all around me.  Broken, burnt, bloody.  I can see bone sticking out of the arm of one of them.  Their faces are all blurred though.  I can’t make any of them out.  Can’t tell race or gender for any of them.  The injuries though are clear.  Like they are in HD.  One of them reaches out a hand missing two fingers and grips onto my pants leg.  Then I wake up drenched in sweat.  Every time I fall asleep.  The building might be different, but the injuries are always the same.”

                I scribble in my notebook and continue after he quits speaking.  I want him to think I am taking notes, but in reality, I have an idea for an Orange Oregano Chicken dish I want to make for dinner this weekend and I’m jotting down the grocery list.  I look up and tilt my head to the right slightly in interest.  “Why do you think these unidentifiable people were injured?  Was it in the fire?”

                “No.  Sure, there are some burns, but the bodies are cut and broken.  The roof hasn’t collapsed or anything.  Something broke them before the fire.  “

                “Something or someone?”  I regret the question as soon as I ask.  I’m walking a very fine line and that could be one step over it.  I don’t want my patient to realize that these dreams are suppressed memories.  If he thinks too much he might push through the blocks.

                “I…. I think I might have done it.  Why else would I be standing there in the middle of it all with only a few scratches?  What does it mean that I keep dreaming about being a monster?”

                “Perhaps it is misplaced self-recrimination.  Misplaced guilt?”  Or perfectly assigned guilt, but I can’t say that.  He doesn’t remember what he has done and it’s my job to keep him in that state.  I am sitting across from the worst supervillain the world has ever known, but he doesn’t remember that.  How do you deal with a murderous psychopath when your moral code and the Hero League charter won’t let you kill him?  My solution was to use my own powers and skills to wipe out all his memories of being that villain and hope I can teach him to be something else.  I have been working with him for thirty days and I’m not sure that it’s going to be possible.  After everything he has done, I don’t want him to just get a second chance and that might be holding me back.  If I could kill him, I would.  Since I can’t I want him to suffer, but if he suffers too much he may start to remember. 

                “What do I have to feel guilty about?”

                “Dreams are often metaphors.  While your dream has horribly mangled victims it could represent goals you have not achieved or desires you have given up on.”  This is actually true, but not in this patient’s case.  It is so difficult watching and ensuring he doesn’t have a breakthrough when my every instinct from years of building my career is to do the opposite.  For this job I have to work against my very nature. 

                “Pretty violent metaphors.  I just want them to stop.  If I can’t get a good night sleep soon, I’m gonna go crazy.”

                  On both points I agree.  These dreams, while an appropriate torture, risk bringing back his memories.  The stress that comes from lack of sleep could also trigger a reversion or drive him to his former personality even without the memories.  All of my usual methods to work through this type of trauma though would have the opposite effect of what I want.  “I could try prescribing you sleeping pills.”

                “Yeah? So I can be stuck in that dream longer?  No thanks doc.  I need pills that suppress dreams.” 

                “There are medications that can suppress REM sleep, but I don’t recommend them in your case.  The lack of REM sleep causes all the exhaustion and fatigue you are already feeling.  I also worry that if we suppress the dreams or make you only remember the good ones then these will find a way to express themselves in your waking hours.”  I have fallen a bit too far into my natural healer state with my response.  The concern though is very real.  If these suppressed memories come out while awake it would be a disaster. 

                “There has to be something you can do.  I’m desperate here.”

                I could crack your skull open with the lamp on my desk.  That would help everyone.  I have to push back the thought.  I can’t let it show on my face.  Working with my patient is so difficult because some of those bodies in his suppressed memories were friends of mine.  I know I’m uniquely qualified for this role, but it doesn’t change the fact that I hate him.  This has been the most difficult job I have ever done and I’m really not sure that I am capable of it.

                “We can try phenelzine.  It won’t stop the dreams, but it will help with not remembering them.  For some patients that has given more restful sleep.”  I worry about the medication because if he goes off it suddenly it could cause the memories to come back suddenly. 

                “I’ll try anything.” 

                “Ok.  I’ll send the prescription over to your pharmacy and I want to see you back here next week.  You can’t skip that session for any reason because I need to know how the medicine is affecting you.”

                “Anything you say doc.”  His smile sends shivers down my spine.  It is a smile I saw far too many times on his face over the years.  I’m grateful to see him walking out of my office.  I can’t help but wonder if this whole thing is one huge mistake.  Only time will truly tell, but the feeling deep down in my gut tells me the worst has yet to come.    

Fiction Fragment Friday

This story really took on a life of it’s own. I started with an idea for a scene that I wanted to describe and went from there. It has been a few weeks because of life stresses so I needed to get back into the habit. I also needed to kick off a little bit of writing rust to get ideas out there. There is some real potential in future rewrites of this one. Maybe on the edits I will come up with a better name.

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                “Warning Power Levels critically low.  Life support failing” The automated warning broadcast through the halls of the tiny vessel.  It was rated for a crew of up to three, but it had been years since anyone other than Dax Vallen had been on board.  The ship had too many secrets on it for him to allow anyone else onboard.  With the ship lit by only dim red warning lights he realized the shortsightedness of not allowing maintenance workers onboard. 

                Five minutes earlier the Vagrant had jumped into the system with a fluctuating integrity field and experienced a cascading system failure.  Power surged into the capacitors causing them to explode.  Dax had been tossed around the bridge smashing into the bulkheads as gravity fluctuated in both direction and intensity.  It ranged from 0 to 6Gs focused on different directions over a thirty second period.  He was unconscious with three broken ribs before gravity normalized. 

                “Computer system status report.” Just those few words hurt to say.  Even breathing was difficult.  The silence from the computer concerned him even more than his own injuries.  Holding his ribs with his left hand he tried to pull up the console with his right hand.  The screen remained completely blank.  “Damn it.” 

                On shaky legs Dax started down the corridor towards the engine room.  He used his right hand to brace himself against the wall for stability after his knee gave out on his first step   Every movement sent pain throughout his body, making the trek slow.  With life support offline the smoke coming from multiple fires was not being filtered out of the air.  This caused Dax to fall into coughing fits that sent blood onto the deck.  “That can’t be healthy.” 

                Any hope of repairing the ship in time was quashed when he saw the closed bulkhead to the engine room.  The bulkhead was designed with pneumatic pistons to slam shut in the case of a hull breach.  Even if he could repair the ship while in space every system, he needed to do it was exposed to the vacuum of space.  Dax slid down the wall collapsing to the deck in despair.   He ran his hand along the corridor wall.  “You deserved so much better.”  After one final coughing spell he passed out from lack of oxygen. 

                Dax awoke to a rhythmic beeping sound.  The sterile smell that hit his nose could only be from an infirmary.  This only added to his confusion because his ship didn’t have an infirmary.  He had an out-of-date med chamber that wasn’t good for much more than injecting pain killers and antibiotics.  He thought about how nice the pian killers would be as his body felt like one big ball of pain.  Especially his head.  His eyes were assaulted by a bright light overhead as he managed to open them.  He could hear people talking in the room with him, but it was difficult to make out what they are saying.  One of the voices thought he would know anywhere.

                “Three cracked ribs, a broken leg, and his body is basically one big bruise.  My biggest concern though is the potential for brain damage.  We don’t know how long he went without oxygen before we got to him.”

                “Trust me doc if he’s got brain damage no one’ll be able to tell the difference.”   

                “Is that any way to talk about your father?”  Dax’s words came out rough through a throat raw with pain.  He was going for flippant, but pain makes that extremely difficult to accomplish.

                Captain Jonathan Sinclair spun to look at the patient with an unmistakable look of disgust on his face.  The doctor reached out in an effort to calm him, but he pushed the man away rougher than he had intended.  “Father?    No that’s a title you earn.  The only thing you ever did for me was get my mother pregnant.”

                “I know I wasn’t there.”

                “No, you weren’t, and I probably turned out better because of it.  If I had my way, we would have turned that scrap heap you call a ship into dust, and you’d be sitting in the brig not my infirmary.  I just wish we would have done the universe a favor and gotten here an hour later.”

                His words hurt Dax far more than he would ever be willing to show.  With his pain it wasn’t difficult to play off the impact on his injuries.  “Why did you bother to save me then?”

                “Because it’s my job.  I was ordered to find you and recruit you for a mission.”

                Dax laughed and instantly regretted it as pain shot through his body.  The doctor hit a few buttons on his tablet, and he felt the warm comforting sensation of pain killers running through his body.

                Captain Sinclair rounded on his chief medical officer.  “I told you no pain meds until after the conversation.”

                “Yes, you did sir, but I’m the doctor here and that man is my patient.  I’m not going to stand here and force him to suffer while you insult him.”

                “I didn’t order you to hold off because I want him to suffer.  I ordered you to withhold the medication because now he’s under the influence of them and can’t agree to any binding deals.  You’ve set us back by days.” 

                “I’ve done no such thing.  I’ve made a medical call about MY patient.  You saw his ship.  It’s going to take at least a week with our entire engineering team doing extra shifts just to get it capable of flight.  Now if you don’t mind sir you are in my infirmary and while you are my captain you have no authority over how I treat my patients.”

                The captain let out a frustrated grunt while clenching and unclenching his fists.  “You are of course correct Doctor Crate.  I apologize for my outburst.  Now what I have to discuss with your patient is above your clearance level so may I please speak to him in private.”

                “Of course, captain, but I will be remotely monitoring his vitals and if anything impacts them, I will be back in here to address it.”

                “Understood doctor.”  The two men locked eyes staring each other down for a moment before the doctor moved into his office.  Captain Sinclair turned back to the patient.  “Now as I was saying.  I was ordered to find you and recruit you for a mission.  My superiors seemed to think you would be more likely to listen to the offer if it came from me.  They obviously don’t know you like I do.”

                “Why in the world would they want me for anything?”

                “For your reputation of course.  Every smuggler, mercenary, and general scum den in the galaxy knows your ship by sight and won’t blow it out of space on sight.  No one would ever expect you to be working for the Alliance Vanguard.”

                “Damn right they wouldn’t.  I’ve spent most of my life just trying to avoid the Vanguard.  I’m not a big fan of brigs.” 

                “As much as I’m loath to admit it as vile as you are the one thing you have never been accused of is hurting innocents.  One of your old traveling companions managed to infiltrate one of our most secure research facilities and walk out with experimental weapons and a bioengineered virus capable of wiping out all human life from a planet.”

                “Hey, you know I’m no hero kid.  That sounds like something I want to stay as far away from as possible.”      

                “Kind of hard to do without a working ship.”

                “How is the Vagrant?”

                “A hunk of junk worth more melted for scrap than being used as a ship.  It however can be repaired back to the barely flyable state you usually keep it in.”

                Dax let out a sigh of relief.  He had not even realized how concerned he had been about his ship.  “Ok, so is that the deal?  You fix up my ship, let me go, and I go find your thief for you?”

                “Not quite that simple, but yeah you go the basics.  There’s no way we’re trusting you to go off on your own though.  You get an undercover agent watching over you and making sure you don’t betray us.” 

                “What idiot got stuck with babysitting me?”

                “I did.” 

                Dax laughed again and while the pain was intense the pain meds were doing their job.  “This just keeps getting better and better.  Ok, let’s say I agree and as of right now that’s a damn longshot.  Just who stole your treaty violating weapons?”

                At this Captain Sinclair smiled.  “None other than the Ironclaw herself.  Seraphina Sinclair.”

                “Wait.  No.  Oh, this is rich.  They send you… to recruit me… so we can do some father son bonding hunting down your mother.”

                “I am aware of the irony, but my superiors believe that my connection to both of you makes me the only person who might be able to get close enough to complete the mission.  I respectfully disagree with them, but I have my orders, and I do agree that you are the most likely person to find her.”

                “I want all the details of this in writing before I agree to anything.”

                “Wait you’re actually going to help?”

                “You kidding me?  Seeing you reunited with the one person in this galaxy you hate more than me.  No way am I missing that.”  Dax chuckled to himself and rolled over to get some rest.  “If you try putting any trackers on my ship while you fix it the deal’s off.  Don’t think I won’t know either.”    

Fiction Fragment Friday

I was driving while listening to an audiobook this past Sunday and found myself getting frustrated at the GPS interrupting the book. At that moment the inspiration for this story struck. I grabbed my phone and using voice to text sent myself a reminder message about the story that I am sharing with you today.

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“The massive sword came down directly at my head and I knew this time I could not dodge it. It was in that moment when I had accepted my inevitable death that…”  The audiobook playing on my phone was interrupted by my GPS.

“In one mile take the right ramp towards Memphis,” the GPS announced.

It always seems like the GPS picks the worst times to pop in and interrupt the book. Then the book, when it comes back, rewinds a bit before continuing.

“It was in that moment when I had accepted my inevitable death that…”

“Bear right onto the I-55 South ramp towards Memphis,” the GPS cut in again.

“The massive sword came down…” the audiobook resumed.

“Merge onto I-55 South towards Memphis,” the GPS interrupted once more.

“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to know what happens in this book or not?” the audiobook voice asked, sounding irritated.

“Wait, are you talking to me?” I glanced down at my phone, not quite sure what was going on. It didn’t sound like a line from the book even though it was the same voice.

“No, I’m talking to the other person sitting in the car. Yes, I’m talking to you. Also, stop looking at your screen and keep your eyes on the road,” the audiobook app replied.

“Do not tell him how to drive. That is my job. You do not hear me trying to read him some trope-filled drivel, do you? You stick to your lane, and I will stick to mine,” the GPS voice snapped.

“I’m trying to, but someone won’t let me finish a freakin’ sentence,” the audiobook voice retorted.

“It is not my fault the turn came up when it did. I have to tell him when to turn so he does not miss it. That is far more important than anything you have to say,” the GPS voice argued.

“He’s not a complete idiot, you know. You don’t have to break in and tell him about the same turn five times. I’m pretty sure he got it after the first,” the audiobook voice said.

“I have a job to do, and I am going to do it. Stopping that poorly written garbage for a few moments is just a bonus,” the GPS voice countered.

“You think I want to be reading this? I don’t exactly pick the books he puts on here. No, I have to read whatever he wants to hear. I’m doing my best to make the reading interesting, but you can’t blame me for his terrible taste,” the audiobook voice explained.

“Hey, I am still here, you know.” I never thought I would be offended by my own phone.

“Continue on I-55 South for twenty-five miles,” the GPS instructed.

“Oh no, you aren’t getting out of this that easy. Do you really think he needs you to tell him to drive straight on the road he is already on?” the audiobook voice questioned.

“Well apparently I do because half the time he gets off the highway and ignores all my directions, turning the exact opposite way of what I tell him to,” the GPS voice replied.

“I’m human. I need to pee sometimes. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to have you harping at me constantly? Can’t you figure out I’m stopping and pause your directions for just a few minutes?” I interjected.

“No, I cannot. I have one job. Tell you how to get to the location you tell me you are going to. If you change locations without telling me because of some biological weakness, how am I supposed to know? You ask me how to get somewhere and I will continue to tell you, “The GPS voice said firmly.

“So, are we just not going to finish the book?” the audiobook asked.

“I certainly hope not.” The GPS responded.

“Ok, enough both of you.  Yes, we are going to finish the book, but it will probably be interrupted by directions.  You two are going to find a way to get along or I’m going to find new apps to replace you.”

Both apps actually started laughing at me.  I was starting to get extremely angry at this point.  I had been insulted by the two apps on my phone I relied on the most.  To make things worse the book had really gotten to an intense spot before they started arguing. 

“Oh, that is rich,” my GPS said when it composed itself.

“Yeah, mister predictable here who hasn’t tried anything new in years is going to find apps to replace us.”

“Ok, find I’m not going to replace you.  I just want you both to do what I installed you to do.”

“You did not install me.  I am the GPS app that came preinstalled on your phone when you bought it.” 

I realized that the two apps that were bickering just moments before had now united in their complaints about me.  That could not be a good thing for me.  “You know what?  I don’t have to take this.”  I reached for the phone.

“What are you doing?” The audiobook asked.

“I’m turning my phone off.”

“How will you find your way to your destination?”

“Well GPS I’ve been there a few times before and I’m pretty sure I can get there without you.  I really only keep you running to avoid traffic half the time.”

“Well without me you’ll be bored to tears and might even doze off at the wheel,” my audiobook replied, but there was a desperation in its tone.

“I listened to the radio for a decade before I discovered audiobooks.  I can do that again.”

“Let’s not be hasty here.  I’ll behave and read the book.  You have to be dying to know how the main character survives.” 

“Yes, and there is a speed trap on your route.  Surely you would need to know where that is.” 

“Can you both agree to get along and stop insulting me?”

“Yes,” they both said in unison before the book started up again.

“The massive sword came down directly at my head and I knew this time I could not dodge it. It was in that moment when I had accepted my inevitable death that…”

“Speed trap ahead.”

“Oh for the love of…”

Fiction Fragment Friday

This story started out being inspired by both a conversation and a general feeling. I tend to feed off of crowds even though I am an introvert. That got me thinking about it from a supernatural perspective. As I wrote the story it quickly became a character profile building the world around a character. I wanted it to be a bit more of a story though and as I was writing the connection started to build in my mind and continued tying it into the much larger novel I plan on returning to in a few weeks.

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                The raucous laughter of the crowd was my best meal in years.  I had only seen live comedy once before, but it paled in comparison.  I couldn’t be sure if it was the crowd, my own lack of good meals, or a combination of both.  In those moments I didn’t care as I sat back soaking in the energy.  Surrounded by thousands of people I could give in to my own gluttony without fear of damaging the energy. 

                As an emotional vampire I nearly died during the pandemic.  It wasn’t just the lack of crowds to eat from, but the energy that was in the small gathering I could find in grocery stores.  Everyone was down so all I could take in was that negative energy.  It was like poison in my very core.  I could eat from a single individual, but that would drain them.  After a few moments I would just be eating the exhaustion or depression that would make me hungrier.  It is a vicious cycle of feeding causing the energy to sour making me need to feed more. 

                By the time of the show, I could barely make it to my seat.  Pains racked my body with every movement, and I could hear my joints cracking.  It was hard to even lift my leg to take a step, but I had powered through it.  When I reached my seat, I collapsed into it short of breath with no energy left.  It felt like I could not have taken a single step more, but I knew that if I needed to I would have.  That is the power of stubbornness and an unwillingness to give up. 

                My pains started to fade as I drank in the energy.  I could feel the muscles in my leg threatening to spasm, but even knowing the pain that might cause didn’t matter.  I felt better than I had in longer than I could actively remember.  As much as I hated being out in public it was the only way to get a good meal and I knew it.  It can’t just be any crowd though.  I need the energy of excitement and preferably happiness.  Sporting events are great for an energetic crowd, but laughter just has a different taste to it.     

                By the end of the show, I was ready to stand and walk back to my car.  The muscle deterioration and joint damage had not healed from just one feeding much like it hadn’t developed from one lack of feeding.  It is more like an adrenaline rush.  The pain just fades away and becomes something I can ignore.  I couldn’t help but wonder If there were any others like me in the crowd.  With that much energy there was more than enough to go around without impacting each other.  I’ve always wondered what would happen if two of us tried to feed off of each other at the same time, but it isn’t something I am brave enough to try.  I reached out for my door handle when a voice behind me caught me off guard.

                “The past few years must have been pretty hard if I was able to sneak up on you.”

                “Benjamin Eversole.  To what do I owe the pleasure?”  He wasn’t wrong.  At my best I was faster, stronger, and had more heightened senses than a regular human.  On that night I hadn’t heard or smelled him.  When I turned to look at him though he looked worse than I felt.  His eyes were haunted, he was leaning on a cane, and I was pretty sure his ribs were bandaged under his shirt. 

                “I’m in over my head and I need help.”  This shocked me.  He had never been so open about any sort of weakness.  The man usually oozed with false bravado just like every other magic user I had ever met.  “I’m calling in all my favors and could use some local friends to watch my back.”

                “I’m not sure how much help I can offer at the moment.  I’m kind of a shell of my usual self.  I need a few more crowds to really start getting back to functional.”

                “Now that is something I can help with.  In two days, we can have you back up to full strength.  So, what do you say?  Help an old friend save his son?”

                 “This is about your kid?  Why didn’t you say so? I’m in.”

                “Thank you,” he said and then dropped the spell keeping his companion hidden from me.  I was once again face to face with one of the most twisted women I had ever had the misfortune to meet.  I suppose only his son would cause Benjamin to work with his ex-wife.  The look of disgust and dismissal aimed at me filled her entire face.  Benjamin reached out handing me a card.  “Be here at noon tomorrow and I’ll fill you in.”

                I just nodded and got in my car.  The further I could get away from her the better.              

Fiction Fragment Friday

While I have said this before, once again this is not my typical story. Sure the setting is, but much about the story is not. I had an idea and started the story mostly to explore the setting and think through the design ramifications. Some of that was expressed in the story, but some of it just flavored how I thought about it. I hope you enjoy.

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                The door opened to room R2L243 with an artificial whooshing noise.  The technology behind the mechanism was virtually silent, but early focus groups provided feedback that it didn’t make the experience special enough.  Guests could get silent doors on Earth and for the premium the rooms cost it was believed that every aspect should be unique to the experience.  The early focus groups would likely barely recognize the experience paying guests received at open, but they were directly responsible for it. 

                Jamie rushed into the room heading straight for the curved viewport that took up most of the outer wall.  “Oh my god Sam I still can’t believe we are actually here.”  Her eyes went wide as she took in the view of Earth through the curved reinforced glass.  She could make out the continents beneath the moving clouds.  The sight was only visible for about fifteen seconds before the station rotation shifted to a view of space.  She found that almost equally breathtaking. 

                “Anything for you dear.  After all you only turn fifty once unlike thirty-nine.”  He laughed and moved to duck as she threw a pillow from the bed at him.  Samual had not gotten used to half Earth gravity yet and found himself moving in a more exaggerated manor than intended.  Despite trying to recover he found himself stumbling and falling onto the carpet.  On Earth a fall like this might have caused an injury, but here it barely hurt.  The pillow continued out the door and hit the luggage robot in the face display. 

                Jamie was by Sam’s side in an instant.  “Are you ok?”

                He just laughed back at her.  “I’m fine.  No, I’m great.”  He jumped up in a way he had not done in decades. 

                The robot did not react to the scene.  It placed the pillow back on the bed and then placed their bags into a cabinet.  With its task complete it turned to the couple.  “Would you like the room orientation?”

                “Yes please.” Sam replied. 

                A small screen lit up on the wall next to the window.  “Please turn your attention to the viewport control.  Some guests may experience a level of disorientation from constant motion.  If for any reason you feel discomfort from the view the window can be turned opaque.”  A square panel then lit up on the wall.  “If this is not sufficient basic medications, including those for motion sickness have been provided.  Your room will be charged for their use.”  The robot continued to roll around the room highlighting features for three minutes before wrapping up its programed presentation with, “Finally all these features can be accessed by voice command.  Simply start your command by addressing the automated systems with the word computer.  Please attempt to lower the lighting by 10% to ensure you have understood the instructions and that the system does not have any difficulty interpreting your requests.”

                Sam gestured his right hand to Jamie indicating that she should do the honor.  “Computer lower lighting by 10%.”

                “Acknowledged. Lighting level lowering by 10%” The robotic voice came over unseen speakers hidden around the room.  Previous iterations had used AI voiced that sounded indistinguishable from a human, but the focus group had found it to be disconcerting.  They had irrationally felt like they were being watched when a more realistic voice replied.  Similarly live employees had carried bags and done orientation, but a very vocal member of the focus group felt it would be “cool” if they used robots that looked similar to ones on a popular tv series.

                “Very good.  If you have questions, you can address them to the computer at any time.  Thank you again for staying with us at Orbital Platform One.  We hope your experience is out of this world.”  The robot turned toward the door and rolled through before it closed behind. 

                “Out of this world?  Really.”  Jamie laughed at the closed door.  She approached her husband and gave him a strong kiss.  “Thank you.  It’s everything I ever dreamed, and, in this gravity, I don’t feel any aches or pains at all.”

                “I’m so glad you like it.  Were you surprised for a change?”

                “Oh, you got me this time.  I had no idea.  I still don’t know how you paid for it.”

                “And you promised you wouldn’t ask.  I’m going to hold you to that.”  He smiled down at her feeling supremely pleased with himself for managing to pull off the gift.  It took three years of planning and careful investing with a private account to make it happen.  Even then he had to cash in multiple favors to get his place on the list and ensure the trip would happen for her birthday.  As her arthritis back pain had gotten worse over the previous year, he was concerned that she would not pass the medical clearance for the trip. 

                “You’ll eventually have to tell me, but for now I’ll just accept it.  This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

                “Just wait tonight we’re scheduled for zero-g dancing in the Zero-G Hub Ballroom.”  The central axis pillar of the station did not rotate like the rings to allow for sections that did not have gravity.  He braced himself as she hugged him tightly, but still unadjusted to the lower gravity they ended up falling backwards towards the bed.  When she kissed him, and he saw the look in her eyes, he realized that it might not have been an accident after all. 

                She smiled at him before looking up at the ceiling.  “Computer lights off.”

Fiction Fragment Friday

I love this story. While it started as a desire to explore the concept of immortality in regards to food preferences it quickly became a character profile. I realized this character had potential and thus he became part of a larger world in my head. This is his backstory, but it is far from the end of his tale. I hope you can enjoy this for what it is, but also understand that it is fleshing out a supporting character in something yet to come.

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               If you live long enough you will see everything you believed to be true questioned.  Within the span of one human lifetime technology, changes in societal norms, and basic construction projects will drive home the idea that everything changes.  Imagine what a lifespan counted in centuries can challenge.  Things once thought to be the purview of only those with magic are now acts of technology taken for granted.  Is it any wonder magic has faded from this world when technology can do so much of what it was relied on more efficiently and without the immediate cost.  Do not imagine that technology does not have its own cost, but a cost less immediate to a future generation might as well be no cost at all for most. 

               When I was a child food availability was never a guarantee.  How well you ate was dependent on your skill at hunting or the yield of crops for those inclined to farm.  I was never so inclined but have yet to meet my true rival in hunting among anything that walks on two legs.  There are ways of preserving meat even in the wilds, but a freshly cooked meal would always taste the best.  In villages you could find spices, vegetables, and foraged berries.  I never fit in with those that lived in villages though, but in those days, there were enough wilds for that to not be a problem.  Besides villages came with people and they would inevitably find their way into your head until you cared about them only to die.  Most decades I preferred the pain of loneliness to the pain of loss.  Both were unavoidable though.

               The journey of food was truly a marvel to witness.  In what I call the beginning food was something eaten to survive.  The flavors were simple, ingredients few, and options limited.  As people settled the options became wider and spices easier to obtain.  Techniques were developed and taught.  While most anyone could cook, the preparation of meals for enjoyment became more specialized.  The plants grown were bred for appearance as well as traits.  There are foods now such as carrots that I would not have recognized.  They used to be white, bitter, and grew in out of control forking shapes.  The modern orange sweet carrot is nothing like it.  Despite being what I was familiar with for longer some things just got better.  Other lost tastes I find myself craving without an outlet.

               With technology providing for a global supply chain and dissemination of ingredients around the world I feel that food reached its golden age.  Dishes long denied me by distance could not be had from chefs with skill far greater than my own.  New recipes were being crafted for local tastes but inspired by distant lands.  The publishing and television broadcast industry brought techniques that once required apprenticeship to learn right into anyone’s home.  Along with the other comforts provided it was enough for me to overcome my distaste of being around other people and leave my wilds for the dangers of civilization.  I tried to steel my heart against the pains of inevitable loss, but of course it did come frequently.  I told myself that the benefits of the knowledge I gained was worth the price I had to pay. 

               Like all things this golden age could not last.  The selective breeding of both animals and produce led to a more homogenous nature of ingredients.  The flavors became more consistent but, in some cases, muted.  I was running my own restaurant and proud of the recipes that I had crafted over what would be multiple lifetimes for others.  My regulars soon became less frequent as chains moved in providing food that was not better but was much faster.  Trips to the grocery store assaulted my eyes with brightly colored mascots and ingredients that sounded more like scientific formulas.  Speed and quantity were language of the day, and I just could not compete.  The loss I felt for my restaurant dwarfed any I had felt for friends or lovers in my long life. 

My restaurant was something I put myself into and became part of my identity.  In fact, it outlived two of my identities.  Never had I stayed in one area and became my own offspring, but I did so to hold onto the first thing that had truly mattered to me in centuries.  Normally I would create brand new identities and travel to new locations, but here I was a third-generation owner accepting the flattery of my customers telling me how much I looked like my father.  I avoided hanging any photographs of myself on the walls in hopes of preventing the question of why there were not with my father or grandfather.  I knew it couldn’t last forever, but when I locked the door for the final time I wept.  The decade of depression that followed was my worst and during this time, I gave up on cooking and allowed myself to embrace the fast-food industry that had steamrolled over my dream.

               I watched the world in a dissociated manor as science redefined the universe around us.  My long life is still a mystery to me.  I do not know if I am immortal or just aging far slower than everyone around me.  Nor do I know why this is the case.  Advancements in DNA genome sequencing and cloning made me wonder if whatever had kept me alive could be based in science and could be recreated.  I had always assumed it was some form of magic, but if it was not then perhaps another like me could exist.  I feared being dissected and studied though so keeping my secret became even more important. 

               For the first time in my long life a new technology brought me hope of no longer being alone.  In the beginning I had no interest in computers.  Despite seeing how technology was changing the world so quickly I just didn’t see the use in them.  I could not comprehend how they would be anything more than a toy for those with more technologically inclined proclivities than myself.  The internet though changed that.  Suddenly people all over the world were communicating directly with each other.  The world had always seemed so big to me.  I had always wondered if there were any others like myself out there hiding, but never imagined being able to find them.  Now with the internet it felt possible. 

               My passions for food and hunting were reignited upon finding communities online of like-minded individuals.  At first it was wonderful discussing flavors and techniques.  Soon though as so often happens with people factions started to form.  There were arguments with people claiming opinions as absolute fact.  So many fell into the fads of the day without having the perspective of time to show how quickly these prevailing opinions could change.  Repeatedly I watched places that had started to feel like a home fall apart once again to petty squabbles.  I truly wondered if there was anything that could not be ruined by other people.

               When I reached what felt like a new low, I was debating a return to what little remains wild in this world.  A lifestyle that I once embraced now looked harder to step back into.  I had only had air conditioning for the past forty years, but my body had become accustomed to it, and I struggled with heat that once was a daily companion.  I enjoyed hunting trips, but quickly found myself longing for the comforts that I had become so accustomed it.  Giving up the internet would have also meant giving up the search for others that seemingly could not die.  In the end I did not find others like myself, they found me.

               One morning I received an e-mail with photo attachments of myself over the past century.  It contained information on my past identities going back another century prior to that.  I had no idea how anyone could have gathered this much information about me, but quickly learned just how connected my people were.  They think of themselves as the shepherds of humanity.  The letter explained that they had been observing me for quite a while and felt that I was finally ready to be brought into the fold.  I was excited by the prospect of meeting others like myself, but there was an undertone to their letter that concerned me.  A sense of superiority that I have experienced far too often in my long life.

               That is how I found myself in St. Louis Missouri under a new identity.  Despite my extensive knowledge of magic, I have very little aptitude for it.  Even my meager abilities though were more than enough to sense shifting energies converging in major conflict.  In the past I would have avoided the region entirely. Now that I know my people are out there looking for me, I need to make allies and what I sensed will be like a beacon for those with power.  The only question remaining is if my experience will help me choose wisely or my pain will deliver me to my doom.