Emerald of Earth – EPISODE 41: Recapturing the Crates

“We already stunned your big friend.” He paused, “Give me an excuse and I’d be happy to prove you wrong, Vice-Captain Marcillon’s great niece.”

He was snotty. He was angry. They were in deep trouble. Emerald didn’t know what to say. Below her, Ayaka and Søren were silent as well.

Berg said, “Now climb down slowly to Level Three so I can arrest you and lock you up in your Units where you belong.”

“Colonel Berg, someone was moving the artifact boxes that Dr. Viahakis was studying but they got caught in the Core riot and we can see the antigravity pallet sitting near the Central lift platform without anyone near it and if we don’t rescue it, Inamma’s going to get it and take the boxes away!” Emerald cried in one breath. Looking down, she saw Berg pull Ayaka into the corridor. A moment later, Søren was dragged into it. Emerald hesitated and called out, “Do you believe me, Colonel Berg?”

His head poked into the shaft. Above Emerald, one of the security people was climbing. “What are you whining about?”

“The boxes with the Chicxulub artifacts in them are sitting unprotected on an antigravity pallet in the Core while everyone’s rioting! We have to get to them and save them from Inamma!”

“How do you know that?”

“We can see it on one of the Core feeds. Ask Søren which one he was watching.”

Berg scowled and shouted, “You’re not going anywhere but down here, girl!” His head pulled back into the corridor.

After a few clanking steps, the security person from Level Two was even with her head. The voice said, “Do not move any way but down. Get going.”

“I’m going to wait until...”

“You’re going to get moving right now, little girl!”

Berg’s head poked into the ladder shaft and he called up, “Get down here, fast! We’re going up to the Core. Now!”

Emerald launched herself down the ladder and swung into the corridor.

Startled, Colonel Berg took her by the elbow and said, “Let’s go.”

Emerald tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened suddenly. “Where are we going?” she cried.

“We’re going to the Core. The Lemur IIa is there already,” then very grudgingly, he added, “…just like you said.”

“What about Søren, Ayaka and Daniel?” Emerald said.

“The only person I need is you to open the boxes.” He stopped, made a thoughtful face then said, “On second thought...” He stepped up to a Unit security panel and put his hand on it. The door slid open and he pushed her into an apartment. Motioning to the other security people, they deposited Ayaka and Søren with her. A moment later, another helmeted figure carried Daniel in over its shoulder and dumped him unceremoniously on a couch. Berg cleared his crew out and said, “Computer, acknowledge Berg Master Override.”

“Acknowledged.”

He pointed at Emerald and said, “Detain without privilege in this unit until I return to countermand this directive. Acknowledge.” The computer did so, then he stepped back and the door slid closed.

Emerald launched herself at it, pounding on it and shouting for Colonel Berg to come back and let them out. She spun to Ayaka and Søren who were helping Daniel sit up. Their Team Leader was pale and wobbly.

He gagged.

Ayaka let go of him and put her hands up in the air. Søren scowled at her and said, “If he falls over, I can’t hold him up. If he throws up, chokes on it and dies, you’ll be responsible for his murder.” He glared until she came back to help him hold Daniel upright.

“What are we going to do now?” Emerald said.

Søren looked at her over his shoulder and said, “Wait until Berg and his thugs come and let us out.”

“We have to break out of here! We have to get the boxes!”

Ayaka looked at Emerald sideways then shook her head, “We’re stuck here, Em. Now we wait.”

“No!” Emerald shouted, stomping her foot. She immediately blushed furiously, pursing her lips. Then she held out her hand to Søren and said, “No. We’re going to appeal to a higher power. Give me your ipik.”

“Call your great aunt?” Daniel said faintly.

“No, higher than that.” She keyed an ID code and waited until a voice answered. She said, “Dr. Viahakis? The Chicxulub artifacts my parents sent up with me are sitting in the Core in the middle of a riot down by the central lift platform. I believe that Inamma is going to grab them. Colonel Berg is headed to them right now, too.”

Dr. Viahakis said, “Do you have the necklace?”

“Yes. I’m also being detained in unit,” he glanced at Ayaka, who mouthed, “Unit Three-Fifteen-Ninety-one.”

“There’s nothing either Berg or Inamma can do without the necklace – it’s the key to the boxes and it has to be with your DNA, your heat signature and possibly even your retina pattern.” She redirected her ipik so that it showed her lab as she said, “Inamma somehow got into the lab. It didn’t blow a hole in the wall so it must have grabbed someone – probably a teenager, and manipulated them to load the boxes and move them. I didn’t order the boxes moved.”

“There are other people Inamma is controlling?”

“There would have to be.” There was a short pause. “Where are you?”

Emerald looked to Daniel. He said, “Level Two, Congo Sector Unit 1591.” He looked up at Ayaka.

Ayaka said, “You should probably tell Colonel Berg there’s a riot going on up on Level Four, Congo Sector; all teenagers. He should just poke his head into the hallway and listen. It’ll be obvious.”

There was a long pause on the ipik then Dr. Viahakis said, “I’ve overridden Berg’s security lock.” Suddenly the door slid open. “I’ll meet you in the Core. Watch out for Inamma and for Colonel Berg’s security forces. I sent them an anonymous tip about the riot in the teen cafeteria.”

“You know about that?” Søren exclaimed.

“I know everything, kid. Now go!” The screen blanked.

“Aye, aye, Sir!” said Emerald. Daniel lurched to his feet. Emerald cried, “You can’t come with us!”

“I’m not waiting for Berg’s thugs to come back and stun me again. Let’s go!” He lurched forward, but didn’t fall, grabbed the corner of the door and swung into the hallway. “Hurry up or I’ll beat up on Inamma without y’all!”

Emerald, Ayaka, and Søren ran after him. He was panting by the time he reached the bolus, but pounded the panel and opened the door. It squelched open, they piled in and it squelched shut.

“What if Colonel Berg sends someone to check up on us?” said Søren.

“He won’t,” said Ayaka. “He has too many other things to worry about right now.”

The bolus slid to a stop and squelched open to the roar of the crowd. Emerald led out followed by Daniel, Søren and Ayaka. A louder voice boomed, “Please remain calm. SOLAREX Administration is in direct contact with the World Jump League...” the announcement was drowned out by another angry roar.

The riot wasn’t anywhere near the platform and seemed to be concentrated toward the Cold Pole, almost directly underneath the central holotank, which was projecting SOLAREX’s vice-captain of personnel, Imelda Tanjuatco. Objects flew into the air, passing through her image.

Søren shouted, “Why do they keep calling it the ‘World League’? If we’re in it, it’s not the ‘world league’! It’s the Solar League!”

Emerald ran to the Hot Pole edge of the platform and looked around. Ayaka understood what she was doing, pushed Søren to the East edge and Daniel to the closer West edge while she looked toward the Cold Pole. After a moment, Søren ran to Emerald, “It’s over here! Didn’t you hear me? It’s over here!”

No one could hear anything over the roar of the crowd, so Emerald and Søren ran to Daniel and grabbed him, then grabbed Ayaka, and ran as a hand-holding amoeba to the East edge of the platform. The gravity modified cargo float was sitting beneath a tall pine tree, the boxes piled on it haphazardly, the tow harness laying on the ground, and the whole thing hidden from plain sight by low-hanging branches.

Daniel started down the steps but Emerald grabbed him. “What?”

“It got moved,” she shouted over the dull roar of the rioting SOLAREX crew. “Who moved it?”

Søren pulled out his ipik, thumbed through the images until he looked up and said, “I can’t see what happened because the rioters moved through here...”

“We have to get it before someone else does,” said Emerald. Daniel bit his lower lip then nodded and led the group down the steps to the float, scanning around them all the way.

“We have to get going.”

“Where are we going to take the cargo float?” asked Søren.

“We have to get it back to Dr. Viahakis’ lab. It was secure there,” said Emerald.

“What do you mean it was secure there?” shouted Daniel. “Inamma just grabbed somebody and had them take it out!”

“Where else are we supposed to hide it? Inamma can go anywhere it wants to!” said Emerald.

Ayaka looked around and added, “Wasn’t Dr. Prymore going to meet us here?”

“Colonel Berg was on his way, here, too,” Søren said.

“And Inamma,” said Emerald.

“But no one’s here,” said Daniel. He grabbed the cargo float’s activation handle and turned it on. It rose up from the ground. He slipped into the towing harness, belting it over one shoulder and pulled it as if he expected it to be light, but it hardly moved. “This is way heavier than it looks!” He pulled harder. One more grunting lunge and it began to move.

“I thought it was a gravity modified float?” said Søren.

“It is, but antigravity doesn’t mean anti-inertia. It floats, but I still have to pull it to get it moving and it’ll resist that pull until I can overcome its tendency to just sit there.”

“What are you talking about?” Emerald exclaimed.

Daniel made a disgusted face and waved her away, steering the float. “It’s physics. You’re too little to...”

“Newton’s First Law,” she quoted. “A body in motion stays in motion, and a body at rest stays at rest unless acted on by an outside force.”

Daniel stared at her, mouth open, snapped his mouth shut as he blushed furiously, then shouted, “Everybody push! I can’t do this by myself.”

They got behind the float and got it moving. Faster than Daniel could control it. It got ahead of him once, ramming an oak tree. None of the boxes was strapped down and one near the edge started to fall. Emerald lunged to shove it back.

The instant her hand touched the box it flared green then went back to being plain gray box. She didn’t move as the box vibrated under her hand. Several moments later, the top opened.

“Emerald! The necklace!” Ayaka exclaimed.

“I can’t see it! What’s wrong?”

“It’s glowing,” said Ayaka. She stepped forward as did Daniel and Søren as she looked inside.


THE STORY SO FAR: Emerald Marcillon’s parents excavated artifacts in the Chicxilub Crater that point to a long-ago alien war that spilled over to Earth. Inamma, an alien AI survived the war and will kill to retrieve the artifacts. When assembled, the AI intends to create a weapon that will destroy all of Humanity – thinking we are descendants of its ancient enemies. Emerald’s parents are dead, and she has escaped Earth to the SOLAR EXPLORER but finds that Inamma has followed her. The crew, aware of the origin of the artifacts, plan to protect her and hides her among the rest of the young people in the crew. Emerald lives with autism and making friends is difficult. She has a few good friends now, and while she holds the key to the artifacts, she has discovered the sport of pryzhok, and the odd hiding places the young players have hidden their clandestine pryzhok sphere. It appears that Inamma is on to them all…

(If you like what you read, share this link with a friend! This is where the story starts -- Season 1, Episode 1 is at the bottom: https://stupefyingstories.blogspot.com/search/label/YA%20SciFi%20EMERALD%20OF%20EARTH%20Serial?updated-max=2022-01-28T05:00:00-06:00&max-results=20&start=18&by-date=false)

Guy Stewart is a retired teacher and counselor, with science fiction for young people and adults published in ANALOG Science Fiction and Fact; podcast at CAST OF WONDERS; and in CRICKET the Magazine for Children. For links to his other online works, go to https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/. For an interview with me about EMERALD OF EARTH, try this: http://www.writersandauthors.info/2015/09/interview-with-guy-stewart.html Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0X3mAc2AzqEJWA3ehVkVfHfzWGYFL0TbXeMyJDUyP3fRUi4gVLpK2PSo9qeqvljaCWKP7z9Dn120wRuSmoZoV_CWee_Yaw_UZx39rhg-xjZqsRFAr1ZFk6hZwUbDu0mLyb58RNhTPK9iS5HYXbijVje_dGNSJyz665C6PY0HtZRk-KaQWAsC46CEfQ/s1600/emerald_320.png

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“Merry-Go-Round” • by Christopher Degni

 

The field, once Sara’s favorite haunt, stood graveled and muddy, lonely except for a “Coming Soon” billboard for a 55+ community.

She didn’t love the field so much as the annual traveling carnival that had descended upon it, until twenty years ago, when it had stopped. Sara closed her eyes and reflected on that year of lasts: the last carnival, the last year of high school… the last time she’d seen her brother.

The smell of fried dough filled her nostrils. When she opened her eyes, she was amidst the carnival again, by the fortuneteller’s booth. It had none of the usual pageantry, only a plain-looking woman wearing a plain tee, jeans, and a Mona Lisa smile.

The strange resonance of being in two times at once buzzed in Sara’s sternum.

“We’ll meet again,” said the fortuneteller.

“Sorry?” said Sara—both Saras.

“I said we’ll meet again.” The first time had been a restatement; now it was a confirmation. “It’ll be rough. For a while. But you’ll come around.”

The vibration in Sara’s chest stopped, and she stood in an empty field again. She glanced at the billboard and sighed.

“Not yet.” She kicked a rock. “Maybe in another twenty.”

_____________

Christopher Degni is a 2019 graduate of the Odyssey Writing Workshop. He writes about the magic and the horror that lurk just under the surface of everyday life. He lives south of Boston with his wife (and his demons, though we don't talk about those). You can find more of his work in NewMyths.com, Sherlock Holmes and the Occult Detectives, 99 Tiny Terrors, and the upcoming 99 Fleeting Fantasies.

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“Inheritance” • by Ephiny Gale

 

They tell me that taking the memory pill is when you really become an adult.

My friend Marie took it when she was 16, as soon as she legally could, and then she stopped liking any of the guys our age or laughing at our favourite shows. That scared me for a long time. She promised she was fine, but there was something different in her eyes afterwards, like she was haunted.

Mum’s had my pill ready for a while, ever since gran died. It contains most of my grandmother’s memories, and my great grandmother’s, and my great-great grandmother’s from when they first invented the technology. Mum says no pressure, but I know that it’s supposed to give me perspective; give me experience to help me navigate my adult life, make good choices.

Twenty-four is pretty old, but I think I’m finally ready. To be haunted.

The memories of my ancestors flood through me, overwhelming. Celebrations, funerals, childbirth, regrets, moments of joy and inertia. Life is long and life is short, and I will live my own with a legacy inside of me.

Mum hands me a lemonade to sip. “Do you regret it?” she asks.

Not at all.

_______________________

 

Ephiny Gale is the author of more than two dozen published short stories and novelettes that have appeared in publications including Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Constellary Tales, and Daily Science Fiction. Her fiction has been awarded the Sundress Publications' Best of the Net award and the Syntax & Salt Editor's Award, and has been a finalist for multiple Aurealis Awards.

 

 

 

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“The View from the Old Ship” • by Carol Scheina

Sai groaned at the patrol assignments. “We get the haunted ship.”

Her co-pilot, Mack, frowned. “You mean it’s got ghosts?”

“Naw, it’s got sensor problems. Some old data, something it scanned ages ago, keeps popping up. Covers all the viewports. So if you look at our planet, the continents’ll be all wrong. Techs call it a ghost view. Get it? Haunted?”

Mack rolled his eyes. “So we’ll fly blind?”

“We’ll use auto-pilot if it happens. Tech’s gonna try again to fix it after our patrol. That or junk this ancient thing.”

They were orbiting the planet when the ghost view started, showing an ocean where no ocean resided.

Sai gasped. “The water’s blue.”

“So?”

But Sai remembered the stories her grandmother had told, who’d heard them from her grandmother, who’d actually lived on the Old Planet. Stories about blue oceans, not like their red ones. About seven continents. So much had been lost over the decades, but Sai’s grandmother had kept the stories alive.

“That’s Earth.”

Mack peered at the blue water as it shifted to green landmass. “That’s what it looked like? Dang!”

“We’ve gotta tell tech not to fix this.”

Mack nodded.

This was a view worth keeping.

__________________________

 

Carol Scheina is a deaf speculative fiction author from the Northern Virginia region. Many of her stories were thought up while sitting in local traffic, resulting in tales that have appeared in Cossmass Infinities, Daily Science Fiction, Escape Pod, and other publications. You can find more of her work at carolscheina.wordpress.com.

 

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“Goons” • by Christopher Blake

 

I stroke the oars and shatter the lake’s reflected stars. In the distance, a loon wails.

The sack in the bow groans.

“Shut up,” I say. “You’re dead.”

“I’m breathing,” says the sack.

“Good as dead.”

The loon cries again, or anyways I think it’s a loon. Only time I leave the city is to deep-six bozos ain’t smart enough to mind their business. Like this bozo who stumbled stark-naked into the boss’s most remote grow-op.

“You know,” says the sack. “You’re making a big mistake.”

“What, you going to haunt me or something?”

The loon wails again, only closer this time.

“Oh no,” says the sack. “Not me.”

Behind me there’s a splash. I whip around, but catch only moonlit ripples.

“Thing is,” says the sack, “That grow-op was my forest. And this is my lake. Which means I won’t be haunting you.”

Something scratches the bottom of the boat, and suddenly I’m overboard, my limbs tangled in weeds like a thousand grasping hands.

“I’ve got goons for that.”

I thrash, but a weed wraps round my neck and pulls me into the inky dark.

And underwater I see I was wrong.

It wasn’t a loon, after all.

________________

 

Christopher Blake lives with his wife, cat-daughter, and human-son in Ontario, Canada.  He writes mostly fantasy and science fiction, some of which can be found in places like Galaxy's Edge and Cosmic Roots & Eldritch Shores.

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“Mother Noodges Best” • by Allan Dyen-Shapiro

 

Sure, the recruiter had told Junfeng about the brain surgery Tiger Software demanded of its employees, but still. “Boss, I can’t do this anymore. It’s dredging up too much trauma.”

Bob, Junfeng’s boss, flashed a sympathetic smile. “Who else would help maximize your productivity? You knew the procedure would draw someone from your memories who only you could see.”

HAUNTing—Human Ability Up-Regulatory Nudging of the Talented. Post-procedure, the only person tougher on Junfeng than he was on himself stood in front of him 24/7, an augmented reality version only he could see or hear.

“Fix your tie,” his mother said. “You look like a slob.”

Junfeng excused himself from the meeting and headed toward the restroom.

“Promise me you’re not going to touch yourself. That’s disgusting.”

“Mom, I’m exhausted. I need time off.”

“I didn’t raise a slacker.”

Junfeng pondered—what would distract his mom? Finally, he hit on it. “You’ll never have grandkids if you don’t let me socialize.”

Freedom?

Or not. A younger Chinese woman appeared beside Mom. Three children played underfoot.

“You’ll love marriage,” Mom said. “And AI kids behave better. Now, get back to work.”

“Listen to your mom,” Junfeng’s new wife said.

_______________

Allan Dyen-Shapiro is a Ph.D. biochemist currently working as an educator. He's sold stories to numerous markets including Flash Fiction Online and Grantville Gazette. He also co-edited an anthology of SFF set in the Middle East. He is a member of SFWA and Codex. You can find links to his published stories (and some freebies) as well as his blog, where he opines on matters of interest to those who might like his fiction (environmentalism, futurism, science, literature, and science fiction in all media), at allandyenshapiro.com. Follow him on Twitter (@Allan_author_SF); friend him on Facebook (allandyenshapiro.author). 

 

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“Every Day the Music Died” • by Jenna Hanchey

 

They took the music away, but left the feelings it evoked. Today’s wave of nostalgia washed over me like a child standing too deep in the water. I had always felt this when—it was on the tip of my tongue—when that musician played, the one my ex loved. I tried to grasp the tune, even though I knew it was impossible.

I assumed they left the feelings on purpose. In my more generous moods, I thought they must be running tests, trying to understand human emotional ties to sound. We probably inspired the methodology; god knows we’d run enough experiments on them. But as I grew more desperate, reaching for sounds that no longer registered, melodies truly unchained from human experience, my read shifted.

Torture, my mind shouted above the silence. Torture.

The emotions would recede, after awhile. And alone in the pressure-adjusted chamber, deep under the sea, I remembered. Octopuses did not understand sound. They communicated through color and motion. Our feelings for music were an oddity to be explored.

I’d felt haunted when I heard the song my ex loved everywhere after she left. I was wrong.

The true haunting was the weight of its absence.

___________________________

Jenna Hanchey is a communication professor by day and a speculative fiction writer by...um...earlier in the day. She lives in Reno and teaches courses at the University of Nevada on racism, colonialism, and communicating across difference. Her research examines neocolonialism in Western aid to Africa, and how Africans use Africanfuturism to imagine their own developmental futures. Somehow she manages to act, sing, and rock climb, too! Notable credits include Gwendolyn Fairfax in The Importance of Being Earnest and Elaine Wheeler in Night Watch. She's also a voice-actor, narrating the audiobooks in Emily S. Hurricane's Bloodlines series. Her fiction has also appeared in Daily Science Fiction and the Apex Microfiction Contest. Follow her adventures on Twitter (@jennahanchey) or at www.jennahanchey.com.

 

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“The First Stage” • by Matt Krizan

 

Mark is singing Happy Birthday to Layla—loudly and out of tune, as was their custom—when someone knocks on the front door. He ignores it, watching Layla blow out the candles, but the knocking continues.

“C’mon, Mark,” says his sister Sara, “I know you’re in there.”

Mark doesn’t respond. He’s giving Layla her present, waiting for her delighted smile when she opens it.

“I brought donuts,” Sara says. “Those cream-filled ones you like? Mark…?”

Grumbling, Mark pulls off his VR Hood, and Layla and her present vanish. He rises from the sofa, knocking over an empty vodka bottle. Crumbs fall from his pajamas as he shuffles to the door and opens it.

Sara’s eyes widen at the sight of him.

“Oh, sweetie,” she breathes. “You can’t keep torturing yourself like this. It was an accident. There’s nothing you could’ve—”

Mark takes the box of donuts and shuts the door.

He returns to the sofa, tuning Sara out as he shoves a donut in his mouth. He wipes his hand on his pants and pulls on his Hood.

“It’s beautiful.” Layla eyes the necklace, smiling.

“You’re beautiful,” Mark murmurs, echoing his recorded voice, tears welling in his eyes.

__________________________________

 

Matt Krizan is a former certified public accountant who writes from his home in Royal Oak, Michigan. His short fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in various publications, including Daily Science Fiction, Martian Magazine, and Dark Moments. Find him online at mattkrizan.com and on Twitter as @MattKrizan.

 

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Emerald of Earth – EPISODE 40: Inamma Seizes the Alien Artifacts

Sorry for the late post. We were in Northern Minnesota, at a cabin, on a lake, and Wi-Fi was very, very spotty...

Daniel made a face then said, “Oooo...I feel warm all over.” He opened the bolus and stepped aside. “Let’s go.”

“We were on our way to the Congo hangout when you attacked us.”

“I didn’t attack you,” said Daniel as the bolus dropped downward.

“Who did, then?”

“Inamma,” he replied as Emerald and Søren said the same thing.

Ayaka swept them all with a look and said, “Ah. I see how it is! Solidarity is it?” She leaned very close to Daniel and lowered her voice, “Fine, but if I suspect for even a second that you’re under the influence of that alien robot thing, I’ll kill you. My hands are registered weapons. Check the database if you want to. Emerald’s my friend and I’ll protect her from any alien SOAB that cares to show its robotic face.” She stepped back and continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “When we get to the Congo hangout, there should be a pryzhok tournament going on.”

Søren pulled out his ipik and tapped it.

Emerald said, “I thought your ipik was confiscated?”

He shrugged, “I borrowed my sister’s.” He stared at the screen for a moment then said, “Hey! It’s the first games of the Jump Solar Cup!”

“How can there be a Solar Cup? They don’t play Jump on Earth,” Emerald said, “It’s a space game.”

Søren sniffed, “Shows how much you know. There’re already ten Earth Jump teams: Peru...” he paused, frowning, fiddling with his ipik. “Arabian Peninsula, India,” paused again, “um...Central Russia, Japan,” he thumbed his screen, muttering.

Emerald rolled her eyes. She hooked the tektite necklace back around her neck. “You know the teams practically by heart, don’t you?”

Ayaka snickered as Søren continued as if no one had said anything, “China, Brazil,” he bit his lower lip then looked up and said, “The African Cooperative, and NorthAm! Fifteen people in the SOLAREX crew were pro Jumpers before we left – we practically got our own pro team up here.” He read some more then exclaimed, “They added some semi-pros from the ship and petitioned to play in the Cup.”

“How can they play other teams?” Daniel asked.

“Duh! They play remote in a holographic tank with full integration suits. If you didn’t know they weren’t face-to-face, you couldn’t tell. They did one of the matches last year that way when Australia had its Winter Trouble and couldn’t fly their team to Sao Paolo for the finals,” said Søren, hunched over his ipik.

“You follow all of that?” asked Emerald.

He looked up, “Yeah. Who doesn’t?”

Everyone else in the bolus raised their hands and turned to look at him.

He cleared his throat and added, “Sometimes I do.” No one turned away. He threw his arms up and said, “OK! OK! I just started a couple days ago!” The bolus stopped and squelched open. Søren started out, still staring down at his ipik.

Daniel shot an arm out, blocking him.

Søren exclaimed, “Hey!”

Daniel said, “Don’t forget there’s a crazy robot alien trying to kill Emerald. No doubt it will kill us if it has to.”

Søren blinked and slipped his ipik back in his pocket, nodding slowly as he said, “I, uh, forgot.”

Ayaka slugged his shoulder, leaning forward to peek around the door, “How can you forget? That thing’s tried to kill us a hundred times!”

“I’ve never been hunted by a crazy robot before! How would I know what to expect?”

Daniel leaned out into the corridor, looked both ways then stepped out. “Come on. There’re not a lot of people around.”

They hurried down the corridor, noise, shouting, and music growing louder as they drew closer to the teen hangout.

“I thought everything would shut down when we did the slingshot around the Sun?”

Daniel shrugged, “You know teenagers. They’re all fools. Neurons from exuberance haven’t made cross-connections yet.”

They stared at him until Søren said, “You’re a teenager.”

“Not for much longer,” he arched his brows, then touched the keypad. The metal door slid aside. It was like walking into a riot. Waves of heat, young men and women throwing food, leaping from tables and chairs that were luckily bolted down, screaming, and shaking their fists at the huge 3V screen hovering in the center of the cafeteria. Ayaka, Emerald, and Ayaka started to back away, but Daniel said, “Wait a second.”

A few boys ran past and Daniel snagged one, shouting, “What’s happening?”

The boy shouted back, “Solar Cup officials just disqualified SOLAREX from playing – after we beat Central Russia! People are going crazy!”

Daniel grabbed Emerald’s and Søren’s hands and shouted, “Come on!” He pulled them into the mob. Emerald grabbed Ayaka’s hand and they plowed through the riot, ducking and stopping, rushing and dodging, until they reached an empty booth at the edge of the room far from the 3V. He slid in, dragging Emerald in next to him and directing Søren and Ayaka onto the seat across from him.

“What are we here for?” Emerald shouted.

“It’s good cover!” Daniel shouted back, punching his order into the table server. “Maybe Izegbe’s here!”

“Good cover for what?” Ayaka shouted, she stood and did a quick look around the riot, then sat and shouted, “I don’t see Izegbe!”

“This’ll keep us safe from Inamma,” said Daniel, all of them ducking as a tray spun toward their table. Intercepted by a coffee mug, it went tumbling in another direction.

“Where’s Colonel Berg and his crew?” said Emerald.

“The ship is supposed to be locking down,” shouted Søren, holding out his ipik. Emerald leaned forward. The tiny screen showed the Core of SOLAREX. Søren shouted, “The old folks are rioting, too!”

Emerald grabbed his hand and pulled the ipik closer then spun to Daniel, “Look closer!” She twitched Søren’s arm with the ipik toward Daniel.

“Ow! Hey, what are you doing?”

Emerald shouted, “Don’t you see it? There’s an a gravity modified cargo float with gray boxes on it.” Her hand went to her neck. The tektites were warmer than her skin.

Daniel shrugged, “So?”

“Those are the boxes of Chicxulub artifacts! The ones my parents dug up.”

“How do you know that? They’re just gray...”

“I know what they are! The tektites on the necklace – they’re hot! We have to get down there and save them! Someone must have been moving them when the riot broke out. If Inamma sees them...”

Some sort of announcement blared over the public address.

Søren cut her off, “Even that little robot can move a gravity modified cargo float. It’s got a towing harness,” he said as he yanked his hand and ipik free of Daniel’s grip. “No one’ll question it, either, ‘cause the robot isn’t obvious, just old-fashioned. And if even the adults are rioting down there, they won’t care if some robot’s moving boxes around! We have to get down there!” He stood up, catching his quads on the edge of the table, yelped and plopped back down.

Daniel nodded and said, “I agree, we gotta,” he ducked again as something that had been pizza once flew over the booth and smacked into the head of a boy who had just prairie dogged next to them. “...go,” he concluded. “I think we need to crawl out.”

Ayaka protested, “What? Crawl on the floor? That’s crazy. And gross. And...and...unsanitary! I’m not gonna...”

“If we just walk out, Inamma might see us on the security scanners.”

Her eyes grew wide as she nodded. “Good idea, Team Leader.”

“Make sure no one tramples you or stomps on your hands. If we get separated, meet at the interdeck ladders.”

“The ladders?” Søren exclaimed.

“Duh!” Ayaka shouted. “Inamma will be watching for us on the usual security channels. It can’t watch everything, so it won’t notice us in the interdecks.”

“Right.”

“That’s four Levels down and we’d still have to take one of the central lift platform boluses to get there,” said Søren.

“I can climb ladders, and I can keep up with you guys even though I’m smallest. We can’t help the lift platform.” Emerald said. She slid from the bench and dropped to her hands and knees, scuttling like a crab into the surging mob of teens.

“Em! Wait!” Daniel cried. His voice was lost in the roar. He shouted, “Come on!” then dropped to the floor and followed her. Søren put his ipik back in a pocket, glanced at Ayaka and followed the other two.

She was right behind him, muttering, “Beautiful view.”

Emerald made it to the door untouched, but she realized she had to stand up to hit the security pad. She waited until she saw Daniel, then with her face to the wall, sprang up, slapped the pad and dropped back to the floor. By then Søren and Ayaka had joined them. They crabbed out of the cafeteria with no one the wiser.

Daniel stood up.

“Don’t do that! Inamma will see you!” Emerald said.

Daniel rolled his eyes, “Like it won’t see us if we’re crawling on our bellies down an empty corridor?”

Emerald pursed her lips and stood up, saying, “Which way?”

Ayaka said, “The interdeck ladders are this way.”

“How do you know?” Daniel asked.

“I use ‘em all the time. There’s a ladder right outside our Unit and one outside the hospital on Level Four. Saves me time rather than hiking down to the bolus.”

“Oh.”

“Come on,” Ayaka said as she set off at a dead run down the corridor, away from the bolus. After a bit, she stopped suddenly and slapped a faintly glowing security panel. Unlike the interdeck ladder Emerald had used when she’d first suspected Inamma had followed her up from Earth, this one was unmarked. Even so, it opened and Ayaka held it.

“I’ll go first,” said Daniel. “Emerald you’re second, then Søren and Ayaka you bring up the rear – or top. Or whatever.”

They piled in and started “up”.

“Shouldn’t we be going down?” Søren said.

“SOLAREX gravitational fields are oriented so that everything in the Core sticks to the walls. No matter what Level you’re on, you’re walking with your feet toward the surface of the asteroid. If you let go, do you think you’d fall toward your head or your feet?” Daniel said.

“My feet.”

“Then that’s ‘down’, toward the surface.”

“Whatever you say,” Søren said.

The climbed ‘up’ in silence until Daniel said, “Level Three.” They kept going. Emerald passing the same Level and saw it was clearly marked in fluorescent paint just like the DANGER signs on the Beanstalk car she’d ridden into space an eternity ago.

“Level Two. I can see the top of the ladder shaft about three meters above me. We have to get out then sprint for the bolus. I’ll scout around first. The rest of you stay in here until I say the coast is clear.” The group stopped, waiting. Daniel slapped the security pad, the door opened and he swung through. Emerald gripped the ladder hard, trying to listen.

They waited.

“What’s going on?” whispered Ayaka.

“I don’t know, I can’t hear anything,” whispered Emerald.

Suddenly, a black-helmeted head with a reflective red security bar above the visor poked into the ladder shaft Daniel had disappeared through. An amplified, artificial voice boomed, “Stop where you are. You are under arrest. Stop where you are. You under arrest.”

Emerald shouted, “Back down! Back down!”

She scrambled down and stopped suddenly when Søren screamed, “Don’t step on my face!”

From way below, Ayaka’s voice cried, “The Level Three door’s opening!”

The voice that boomed up at them was one Emerald clearly recognized. Colonel Berg roared, “Stop where you are! You’re all under arrest! Don’t move or we’ll stun the lot of you and try to catch you as you fall down the shaft!”

Emerald called out, “You can’t do that!”

“We already stunned your big friend.” He paused, “Give me an excuse and I’d be happy to prove you wrong, Vice-Captain Marcillon’s great niece!”


THE STORY SO FAR: Emerald Marcillon’s parents excavated artifacts in the Chicxilub Crater that point to a long-ago alien war that spilled over to Earth. Inamma, an alien AI survived the war and will kill to retrieve the artifacts. When assembled, the AI intends to create a weapon that will destroy all of Humanity – thinking we are descendants of its ancient enemies. Emerald’s parents are dead, and she has escaped Earth to the SOLAR EXPLORER but finds that Inamma has followed her. The crew, aware of the origin of the artifacts, plan to protect her and hides her among the rest of the young people in the crew. Emerald lives with autism and making friends is difficult. She has a few good friends now, and while she holds the key to the artifacts, she has discovered the sport of pryzhok, and the odd hiding places the young players have hidden their clandestine pryzhok sphere. It appears that Inamma is on to them all…

(If you like what you see, share this link with a friend! This is where the story starts -- Season 1, Episode 1 is at the bottom: https://stupefyingstories.blogspot.com/search/label/YA%20SciFi%20EMERALD%20OF%20EARTH%20Serial?updated-max=2022-01-28T05:00:00-06:00&max-results=20&start=18&by-date=false)

Guy Stewart is a retired teacher and counselor, with science fiction for young people and adults published in ANALOG Science Fiction and Fact; podcast at CAST OF WONDERS; and in CRICKET the Magazine for Children. For links to his other online works, go to https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/. For an interview with me about EMERALD OF EARTH, try this: http://www.writersandauthors.info/2015/09/interview-with-guy-stewart.html
Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0X3mAc2AzqEJWA3ehVkVfHfzWGYFL0TbXeMyJDUyP3fRUi4gVLpK2PSo9qeqvljaCWKP7z9Dn120wRuSmoZoV_CWee_Yaw_UZx39rhg-xjZqsRFAr1ZFk6hZwUbDu0mLyb58RNhTPK9iS5HYXbijVje_dGNSJyz665C6PY0HtZRk-KaQWAsC46CEfQ/s1600/emerald_320.png

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“Inheritance” • by Carol Scheina

Grandma never hid her head, which instead of hair, had numerous strands of inch-long icicles jutting out like a frozen porcupine. They dripped in summertime’s heat and sharpened with winter’s bite.

“We have a frost elf ancestor in our line.” She held her head high. Proud.

The ice-hair skipped a generation. Only I inherited that cold halo. When I was younger, I’d eye people’s soft, warm hair.

“You’re beautiful,” Grandma said. “Be proud.”

But I’d blast the hairdryer to melt my ice, cold drops forming constellations of goosebumps on my shoulders. I’d wrap my head in thick, scratchy scarves. I’d keep a smile frozen on my face when people asked if my icicles were real.

Grandma had been gone a week when, in her honor, I decided to venture outside with my icicles in all their glory, tinted pale blue in the frosty morning. No more hiding our inheritance.

The coffee barista stared long, and I tilted my head for a better view, like Grandma would’ve done. “Runs in the family.” I kept my voice strong, proud.

“Beautiful,” he said. “They sparkle.”

I heard Grandma’s voice in his words, and they warmed a smile onto my face. “Thank you.”

___________________________

Carol Scheina is a deaf speculative fiction author from the Northern Virginia region. Many of her stories were thought up while sitting in local traffic, resulting in tales that have appeared in Cossmass Infinities, Daily Science Fiction, Escape Pod, and other publications. You can find more of her work at carolscheina.wordpress.com.

 

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“The Message” • by Helen French

I hide messages in ice, where I hope my captors won’t think to look.

There’s an extraordinary amount of data in a single snowflake. Each one unique, each one able to tell a story.

I can’t make snow, but I can rewrite its form, so this is what I do from my cell. I stare out the window, I harness the power inside of me, and I magic my message into ice, adding a duplication code so that wherever this particular blizzard falls, the message falls with it.

My daughter is far cleverer than I and she will be waiting for a sign—so I’ve sent millions of them.

Nevertheless, I’ve been doing this for some time now and silence has been the only response. What if she’s been captured too?

I keep hoping because hope is all I have. It’s built-in to me, just as cold is built into ice. There’s always a way forward. I just have to find it.

Mid-thought, my door rattles open. Breakfast time.

“Good news,” my captor says, as he places my food on the floor. “Spring is on its way.”

And then even hope begins to melt.

______________________

Helen French is a writer, book hoarder, and TV-soaker-upper who grew up in Merseyside near the coast and now lives in Hertfordshire, UK, with her young family. Her short stories have appeared in venues such as Stupefying Stories #23, Shoreline of Infinity, and Flash Fiction Online, and she is currently buried in novel-writing. You can find her on Twitter at @helenfrench.

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“Restoration” • by Ephiny Gale

My wife and I go to get scanned every four months; every quark that we’re made up of is recorded as a back-up. Our physical and mental states in that moment put figuratively on ice.

After the third scan I feel unusually cold. My wife has appeared in front of me, her face swollen and pink like she’s been crying for days. “What’s wrong?” I ask. She was fine when we got here.

After the second scan I feel chillier than the first. My wife reaches out to me, her hair greyer and half the length it was thirty minutes ago. “What happened?” I ask, and pull her close.

My wife is waiting for me after my first scan. Somehow she looks years older than when we arrived, and the mixture of emotions on her face is too difficult for me to read. She kisses my hand and says my name like a prayer. Says, “This has to be early enough. Early enough to beat it, because there isn’t any earlier.”

Then she drives me to the hospital, my hand on her knee.

_______________________

 

Ephiny Gale is the author of more than two dozen published short stories and novelettes that have appeared in publications including Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Constellary Tales, and Daily Science Fiction. Her fiction has been awarded the Sundress Publications' Best of the Net award and the Syntax & Salt Editor's Award, and has been a finalist for multiple Aurealis Awards.

 

 

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“Ice Hearts” • by Kai Delmas

I found the boy at the forest’s edge. Surely, his mother told him not to wander near Firelight Forest.

But boys will be boys.

Humans trust nothing more than a child, even when they are children themselves. They seek companionship.

So, I skipped through the woods and happened to cross paths with this boy. He asked where I came from. I told him the truth.

An important thing, the truth. You never want to steal a child away by lying to them.

I asked to play catch and offered to show him where I lived. It would be fun.

Once we ran through the veil I struck.

We used to steal children away for seasons, years. Sucking them dry took time. We had to extract everything they cared for. The fun, their laughter and kindness, too.

I found a different way.

Licking blood from my fingers, I relished his youth.

When done, I shoved a lump of ice in his hollow chest and sent him on his way.

The boy staggered through the forest, wisps of ice trailing him, his shoes leaving frosted footprints in his wake.

That would subside before he returned home.

But his cold heart would remain.

___________________

Kai Delmas loves creating worlds and magic systems and is a slush reader for Apex Magazine. He is a winner of the monthly Apex Microfiction Contest and his fiction can be read in Martian Magazine, Tree And Stone, several Shacklebound anthologies, and elsewhere. Find him on Twitter @KaiDelmas.

 

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“Love’s Labors, Lost” • by Jenna Hanchey

 

I was lost after she broke down.

“Get another one,” friends said. “Same model, you won’t know the difference.”

They didn’t understand. I loved her. How she brought me coffee in bed every morning, anticipated my needs, smoothed my hair with her cold hand as I sighed over paperwork. Listened. She made everything easier.

“It’s programming,” they insisted. “You’ll see.”

The second overloaded in a matter of months. I’d opened up, risked vulnerability hoping she would listen to all the troubles with my job, girlfriend, family. Until one day her glassy eyes failed to light.

Realization hit four models and upgraded programming later.

“That everyone gives you so much is love. That you take it is not,” the last model explained, door closing behind her.

___________________________

Jenna Hanchey is a communication professor by day and a speculative fiction writer by...um...earlier in the day. She lives in Reno and teaches courses at the University of Nevada on racism, colonialism, and communicating across difference. Her research examines neocolonialism in Western aid to Africa, and how Africans use Africanfuturism to imagine their own developmental futures. Somehow she manages to act, sing, and rock climb, too! Notable credits include Gwendolyn Fairfax in The Importance of Being Earnest and Elaine Wheeler in Night Watch. She's also a voice-actor, narrating the audiobooks in Emily S. Hurricane's Bloodlines series. Her fiction has also appeared in Daily Science Fiction and the Apex Microfiction Contest. Follow her adventures on Twitter (@jennahanchey) or at www.jennahanchey.com. 

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“Kickstarting Fate” • by Patricia Miller

“Can you fix it?”

“Don’t know yet. Gimme a second to look it over.”

We crowded around to watch her work. She grumbled about the rush, the crowd—

“Seriously, I’m not lifting another finger unless you stop that damn racket?”

—and obviously, the music didn’t make her happy either. A gesture from the Boss, and the music stopped. She gave another glare. We stepped back.

“I don’t suppose anyone has a can of WD-40 handy.” We bowed our heads. We were so woefully ill-equipped for this kind of thing. “Didn’t think so. Brute force it is then.”

She stood up, reared back, and gave it a swift kick.

And slowly, the Wheel of Fate resumed its turning and the angels resumed their chorus.

____________________________

Patricia Miller is a US Navy veteran who writes SF, fantasy, horror and romance. She is a member of SFWA and CODEX.

Publications include short fiction in A Quaint and Curious Volume of Gothic Tales, 206 Words, and the March 2022 Cinnabar Moth Literary Collection e-zine. Upcoming publications include short stories for Brigid’s Gate Press, Cinnabar Moth Press, Zooscape Magazine, Wyngraf, and Touchstone Press.

 

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Emerald of Earth – EPISODE 39: Through Fields of Bones

They fell away from Level Twelve and shortly arrived on Level Ten.

The bolus squelched open in the middle of the land they worked. Waves of heat rolled into the car and the light was blinding.

Shading her eyes, Emerald said, “If nobody’s here, why are the lights still on?”

“There aren’t any lights on,” said Ayaka. “They just open the solar sphincters and reflect light down the sun tubes. Just ‘cause we’re not here to tend them doesn’t mean the plants stop growing.”

“Oh,” said Emerald.

Søren leaned over to her and whispered, “Don’t worry. She always thinks she’s smarter than everyone else.”

“I heard that!” Søren looked mock startled and Ayaka said, “This is serious! Emerald if what you say is true, then some alien has possessed Daniel and they’re out there waiting to ambush us! We have to find them.”

“Why can’t we just call Colonel Berg?” Søren said.

“He hates our guts, or have you forgotten the little incident at the Desert Pole? Plus, Dr. Prymore has probably told him we’re just a bunch of crazy teenagers,” Ayaka said.

The second youngest in the group, but definitely a teenager, Søren said, “Emerald’s not a teenager.” Emerald glared at him and he winked.

Ayaka stepped out of the bolus and Søren and Emerald followed. She motioned them into the field. “Spread out a couple rows either way, but keep an ear out for each other.”

They did, pushing through the rows of sugarcane stalks. Emerald thought they felt like bones; the leg bones of old women, smacking her shins as she walked. Emerald said abruptly, “I think we should go down to that hangout in the Congo after this.”

“Food’s better, company’s better, and the music’s WAY better,” said Søren.

Ayaka added, “They have a massive 3V there and someone hacked access to the pryzhok stadium. Maybe someone made a recording of Izegbe getting nailed.”

“I’d pay money to see that,” Emerald said. She’d meant it to be funny, but it didn’t sound that way anymore; it sounded mean. She said, “We have to keep talking. My parents taught me that I was supposed to talk whenever I had to walk in the jungle alone. It makes it so that you don’t startle any wild animals.”

“It’s just that the only wild animals in this ‘cane field are either an alien possessed teenager or a homicidal alien robot,” said Ayaka.

“Thank you for that thought,” Søren said.

“I always speak my truth.”

Overhead, the sun tubes poured light down on the fields. Sweat trickled down the sides of Emerald’s face and down her back. She muttered, “Do they keep the sun tubes open all day long?”

“They only give the plants a short break during the growing season – they’re used to a lot of light on the equator. We’re lucky we haven’t been down here for a few days. Usually by now we’d be out weeding,” Søren said.

Emerald looked down at her feet. “Weeds? I thought this was a controlled environment?”

“You never know what might be important to healthy plants, so they let whatever comes up with the main plant stay and treat it just like humans have treated the plants for the past ten thousand years.” There was an abrupt gap in the conversation. “Søren?”

Silence.

“Søren!” Emerald and Ayaka screamed together. The girls nearly collided as they dashed between the rows toward each other.

“Søren!” Emerald shouted.

“Søren!” Ayaka cried.

Emerald grabbed Ayaka, putting her hand over the other girl’s mouth. Just before she could grab Emerald’s hand away, they heard a voice call out in the distance. Holding hands, they ran through the fields, the old bones of the sugarcane stalks slapping at their arms and faces.

They came out between the shredding barn and the boiling house, looking wildly around. “He’s not here!” Emerald exclaimed.

“He’s got to be here!”

From behind them, a voice said, “I’m right here.”

Both girls spun around. Søren was standing, right shoulder higher than the other because Colonel Berg had his hand under the boy’s armpit and was lifting him up. The Security Chief said, “You three mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

Ayaka spoke first, “We came down to watch the Jump tournament.”

Berg scowled and said, “What?”

“There’s a 3V in the locker room of the shredding barn. We came down here to watch the Jump tournament. Everywhere else is too crazy.”

To Emerald, he looked nearly convinced.

Ayaka added, “Daniel...uh, also hacked into the pryzhok broadcast, too.”

Berg’s scowl deepened. “I knew you were up to something illegal.” He shoved Søren forward. The boy staggered and came to stand beside the girls.

From behind Colonel Berg came the distinct sound of knives stabbing into soil.

“Behind you! Inamma!” Emerald screamed. From the bushes a whooshing sound followed a flash of light. Emerald knew that sound. Remembered it clearly from a night on the Yucatan Peninsula. It spelled death for anyone it was aimed at.

Berg shouted, “On!” The air around them all shimmered the force screen that had protected the plantation buildings from the controlled burn as it activated. The rocket exploded, spending its energy outside the screen. Berg stood facing away from them, panting hard. When the smoke cleared and their flash-blinded eyes had readjusted, Inamma was gone.

The ship’s public address system – rarely used – suddenly made a long, sharp tone. “Attention please. This is Vice-Captain Ilisapesi Gaines. Your attention, please. Close out whatever you are doing and please give us your undivided attention.” She stopped talking for several minutes.

“What are you doing here?” Emerald said. “You’ve seen it! It’s Inamma!”

Berg turned and looked at them, his face rigid, his gaze hard. He strode past them, saying, “I have to go. Stay here behind the force screen then get into the next bolus and go to Dr. Viahakis. I’m heading for the Main Shuttle Deck, and the Staging Area for planet landings.”

The vice-Captain’s voice came back up again, “We will be cutting forward thrust and will enter a Solar dive that will slingshot us around the Sun. After the maneuver, we will recreate the singularity in front of the ship that will accelerate us into an orbit around Venus, first stop on our exploration of the Solar System. Once there, all assignments for the exploration of Earth’s Twin will commence. Probe Crews please report to your stations for final briefings. All command personnel please report to the Bridge. All other crew report to your units and strap down. That is all.”

Staring at the ceiling, in the direction of the vice-Captain’s voice, Ayaka was the first to move, leading them to the edge of the force screen.

Emerald grabbed her arm, exclaiming, “What are you doing? Inamma’s out there!”

She twitched her arm free and snapped, “So is Daniel, and he’s being controlled by that thing! He’s got the necklace and I need it if we hope to open the boxes and find out what’s in them. They might be something in them that we can use against Inamma.”

Emerald stared at her and said, “We don’t even know if Daniel’s here.”

“Yes we do. Inamma’s here and Berg was here. Daniel’s got to be here, too.”

“But where?” Søren said.

Ayaka nodded and then Søren did. “Come on, let’s go find him.” Together, they stepped through the force field. Emerald flinched, but nothing happened.

They walked a ways through the bony stems of the ‘cane before they reached a clearing, well away from the barn and shed. Ayaka said, “What if your mom and dad sealed the boxes with your DNA and you’re the only one who can get into them?”

“I never tried,” Emerald said. “Dr. Viahakis wanted me to, but I said ‘no’.”

“If it just needed her blood,” Søren said, “All Inamma needs is to just get a sample and it could synthesize your DNA and open the boxes.”

“It wants the tektites. It’s never tried to get blood from me,” Emerald said.

“What if it needs both? What if that was what the knife-footed robot wanted you here for? What if it lured us here to kill you?”

For an instant, Emerald felt like she was falling out of control. She said, “We have to find great aunt Ruby.”

“You’ll never be able to – not during the slingshot around the Sun. Mom’s one of the engineers and she’s got to stay on the Bridge ‘round-the-clock until the maneuver is done. It’s locked down,” said Ayaka.

“Then we have to go to the lab – protect the boxes until we can talk to the vice-captain,” said Søren.

Emerald said, “We have to find Daniel first...”

“Why do you need to find me?” said a deep voice from beyond the clearing. All three youngsters spun in a circle.

Emerald frowned. The voice sounded mechanical. A chill ran down her spine. “Where are you, Daniel?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes! Why are you hiding?”

There was a long silence. He said, “I don’t want you to see me.”

“It’s because you’re not Daniel – you’re Inamma,” Emerald said. She spun, grabbed Søren and Ayaka’s hands and sprinted for the forcefield, expecting the sound of a missile launched at her any moment. Instead, the rapid sound of knives stabbing into sand followed them. Ayaka screamed. With longer legs, Søren got ahead of them, dragging the girls faster.

There was another scream and the sounds of thrashing in the sugarcane rows parallel to theirs. Then a figure seemed to explode from the greenery and tackled the little Lemur IIa robot.

Emerald looked to see Daniel tangled with the sharp, pointed legs of the alien robot intelligence. She pulled free of Søren and ran back. The robot was on its back, legs flailing. Daniel scrambled to his feet and said, “I have the necklace! Let’s go!”

He took Emerald’s hand then grabbed Søren as the younger boy stood still holding Ayaka. Daniel dragged them all through the rest of the field and plunged through the force field, staggering and stumbling into the barn as he let go of their hands.

Emerald exclaimed, “You’re bleeding!”

Daniel looked down at his forearm, dazed then looked back up at her. “I don’t remember getting that.”

Ayaka cried, “Where’d it go?” They spun to face the ‘cane field, but the robot was nowhere they could see.

Daniel said, “It gave up after it lost control of me.”

“It was controlling you?” Emerald said.

Daniel shook his head, snorting, “Of course it was controlling me! It’s been fiddling with my head ever since I made you and Izegbe fight over the necklace.” He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, handing it to Emerald. “This is yours. And you’d better put it on. That’s the one thing Inamma wants more than anything else.” He paused then added, “The only reason you’re still alive right now is that the Lemur IIa is a weak little robot.” He looked back at the ‘cane then strode to the bolus. “We need to clear out.”

Ayaka nodded and added, “You were the only reason we came here, anyway.”

Daniel stopped, “I was?”

Ayaka said, “Don’t get all misty-eyed. We’re an IT team and you’re our leader. We were obligated.”

He made a face then said, “Oooo...I feel warm all over.” He opened the bolus and stepped aside. “Let’s go.”

THE STORY SO FAR: Emerald Marcillon’s parents excavated artifacts in the Chicxilub Crater that point to a long-ago alien war that spilled over to Earth. Inamma, an alien AI survived the war and will kill to retrieve the artifacts. When assembled, the AI intends to create a weapon that will destroy all of Humanity – thinking we are descendants of its ancient enemies. Emerald’s parents are dead, and she has escaped Earth to the SOLAR EXPLORER but finds that Inamma has followed her. The crew, aware of the origin of the artifacts, plan to protect her and hides her among the rest of the young people in the crew. Emerald lives with autism and making friends is difficult. She has a few good friends now, and while she holds the key to the artifacts, she has discovered the sport of pryzhok, and the odd hiding places the young players have hidden their clandestine pryzhok sphere. It appears that Inamma is on to them all…
(If you like what you see, share this link with a friend! This is where the story starts -- Season 1, Episode 1 is at the bottom: https://stupefyingstories.blogspot.com/search/label/YA%20SciFi%20EMERALD%20OF%20EARTH%20Serial?updated-max=2022-01-28T05:00:00-06:00&max-results=20&start=18&by-date=false)

Guy Stewart is a retired teacher and counselor, with science fiction for young people and adults published in ANALOG Science Fiction and Fact; podcast at CAST OF WONDERS; and in CRICKET the Magazine for Children. For links to his other online works, go to https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/. For an interview with me about EMERALD OF EARTH, try this: http://www.writersandauthors.info/2015/09/interview-with-guy-stewart.html
Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0X3mAc2AzqEJWA3ehVkVfHfzWGYFL0TbXeMyJDUyP3fRUi4gVLpK2PSo9qeqvljaCWKP7z9Dn120wRuSmoZoV_CWee_Yaw_UZx39rhg-xjZqsRFAr1ZFk6hZwUbDu0mLyb58RNhTPK9iS5HYXbijVje_dGNSJyz665C6PY0HtZRk-KaQWAsC46CEfQ/s1600/emerald_320.png

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“Mr. Giz” • by Marc A. Criley

 

Three hundred pounds of robot plunked down, shaking the house. The RoboAide™ wiggled on its back, as if trying to scratch an itch. It paused to stare at me, shifted its gaze to my wife when she rushed in, then ignored us. 

“What’s Mr. Giz doing?”

“Tech said the personalization module needs a factory reburn. Normally they swap in a flexibility loaner because depersonalized RoboAides can stiffen up, but those are backordered. We gotta make do for now with a leftover module from someone’s RobotPet™ upgrade.”

Mr. Giz slinked to a sunbeam, stretched. “Meow.”

My wife eyed me. “How long?”

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Marc A. Criley began writing in his early 50s, and his stories have since appeared in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Abyss & Apex, Galaxy’s Edge, and elsewhere. Marc and his wife “manage” a household of cats in North Alabama, from where he maintains kickin-the-darkness.com and tweets as @That_MarcC.

 

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