Fantasy Drabble #310 "I'm Saving My Love For You"

He needs no rope to help him reach the window, he has a spell to float himself up the wall. He needs no cover of darkness, he has a spell to render his form invisible to the guards. It is night, though, because that is when she asked him to come.

The Princess is waiting at the window. She cannot see him, but she hears the rustle of his clothes. "My father is asleep."

"Heavy snores the head that wears the crown?"

"Something like that. And…" She pushes a strap of her dressing-gown from one shoulder, and grins. "Stay invisible."

Entrapment

The security door closed with a whoosh of sucking air and a loud click.

"Lieutenant." Of course they'd sent someone like her in: pretty, clothes a little too tight, disarming smile. They're too sophisticated to send in a heavy with a phone book.

"How're you doing?"

"I should ask you how you are. Have you been treated well?"

"Nobody's beat me up, if that's what you're asking. They could be more polite."

She sat down opposite me, across the table. In front of her she set down a file folder, a PDA, and a plastic baggie. "People don't tend to be polite to officers who talk about losing the war."

I shrugged.

"Do you think we're losing the war?"

"The first battle was seventy light-years away. The next one will be here. At Sol. What does that tell you?"

"We'll be ready for them."

"That's what we said before Epsilon Eridani. That's what we always say, officially, isn't it? Isn't it?"

She'd been trying not to stare at the burns on the side of my face; now she let me catch her doing it. "You had quite a hard time at Epsilon Eridani, didn't you?"

"I came back. I'm the exception." I shrugged. "Forty ships, plus the troop carriers. Nearly a hundred thousand dead? Or worse, captured? I had it easy at Epsilon Eridani."

"Is that why?"

I let it hang there. Eventually I said, "Is that why what?"

She held up the plastic baggie. I couldn't read the markings on the bag, the writing was too small, but my slipdrive was clearly visible at the bottom. "Why you were taking this out of the building—"

"I work from home sometimes."

"You know that's against the rules."

I shrugged again. "You know everyone does it anyway. If we didn't, the work wouldn't get done. Is that what this is about?"

"No." She opened the file folder, took out an 8x10 photo — actually printed on paper — and held it up. "Do you recognize this man?"

Of course I did. "No."

"You were in the same place as he was eight times over the past year, always on a Sunday, always after copying classified data to your slipdrive."

"It's not a crime to be in the—"

"Did you pass the data to him?" She leaned forward. There wasn't anger on her face. She was showing just enough cleavage to be mildly distracting. "I can't help you if you're not honest with me."

"You think he's a Woolie agent?"

"I think you think he's a Woolie agent. He actually works for us."

I blinked. "So then why all of this? Why am I not already out in front of a firing squad?"

She leaned back in her chair, sighed. "Because regardless of what you say, you did have a hard time at Epsilon Eridani. I read the file. You floated in an escape pod full of smoke and your own filth for three weeks. It broke you. You're not a traitor. You're sick."

Fantasy Drabble #309 "Now I Lay Me"

Mother will come back to the bedroom, tuck me in, whisper soft words of comfort, kiss me on the head. Father will call from the doorway with a tired smile in his voice: "Night, sport". I won't bother asking them to check under the bed: it won't be there yet. Uncle Rey has explained the rules carefully.

Tonight will be a bit different, at least for the monster. Uncle Rey built the trap, and installed it. Pressure plates and springs and chains. It will be loud, it'll wake Mother and Father, and they'll come rushing in, and then they'll believe.

SF Drabble #401 "Rattle and Roll"

"She'll hold." He said it to no one in particular, over the roar of the atmosphere battering the heat shield and the whine of the air system trying to keep them from roasting in their crash webbing and the clattering of his own teeth. "Passing below forty kilometers!"

"I've never been to Earth, you know," Mintz shouted from the jump seat.

"I know. You told us before. A couple times."

"I'm just saying." Mintz shouted as the noise intensified. "It would be a shame to come all this way and burn up on re-entry."

"She'll hold!" He yelled. "Thirty-eight kilometers!"

Penny

Penny picked up a tray and stood behind a pair of Vylid; she had six meal allowances for a trip of three days and she was already starving. At least the food up here would be better than whatever they were eating down on the lower decks.

"You," said a voice from behind her, "are human."

She turned, looked up, met the eyes of the being towering over her: a Ryi, and at nine-feet tall, clearly an elderly one. "Yes."

"This facility is for Class C and above; humans are class D. You should depart." The Ryi nodded its elongated head towards the lift.

The Association worked on a rigidly-enforced class system delineated by race. The mysterious Class A races ruled; Class B races like the Vylid or the Grodon served as middle management or military; Class C races worked; Class D, like humans since the invasion, were little better than indentured servants to be used where needed and ignored when not; Class E were slaves, prisoners, or the barely-sapient.

"I'm Class C."

"Show me your identity card."

"You," Penny answered, before turning away, "are not Security."

One of the Vylid in front of her glanced back, but said nothing; most beings living under Association rule knew to mind their own business. The line moved forward half a step.

There was a light tap on her shoulder.

"Forgive me," the Ryi began as she turned again. "I am only curious. All Ryi are Class C, or lower if they commit a crime. I have always been told that promotion to Class B is impossible."

"It might be impossible," she shrugged, "to class B."

"How did you manage to be promoted?"

"I managed a Vylid hatchery on Whynn for ten years." Penny looked behind her, to see if the Vylid pair were listening in, which they were. "It burned. Whynn is hot, and dry, and the oxygen content of the atmosphere is high. Had to run back into the building three times, but I saved all the hatchlings. By the time the Oblogo fire brigade got there, the hatchery had burned to the frame."

"Remarkable."

"The local governor promoted me to Class C; good public relations. The Vylid didn't object, they were just glad to have all their hatchlings safe."

"I can imagine."

Two Grodon officers sauntered in, clad in their omnipresent power armor. They seemed casual, off-duty, until they spied her in the line. They walked towards her, hands on shock-sticks.

When they were close enough, the two Vylid in line ahead of her whistled something at the officers, and waved them off. The Grodon looked confused, but stopped just before they hauled her out of line. The Ryi she'd been speaking to sputtered, trying to speak but clearly intimidated.

Penny turned, fished the lanyard out of her blouse, and held up the attached ID card so they could see it clearly. "Class C."

The Grodon lost interest and moved on. She whispered to the Ryi: "I love doing that."