The Scientist

With the shell held to my ear, I can hear the entire ocean. I hear the darting fish and the gliding whales and the bottom-feeders skittering through the cloudy dust. I hear them as if they were one great creature writhing and thrashing and eating itself, dying and sinking and being reborn.

I have petitioned the King for a ship, so that I may take it to sea. I believe he thinks me mad, but he may grant my request nevertheless, to be rid of me. She may already have a name, but I am resolved to call her Eurybia.

The200: "The Archean"

"It's hot. Hotter than the projections." He cycled to the next data set on his arm-screen. "And the atmosphere's an unbreathable soup. Suit's staying on."

"Well, we figured that."

"You're coming through fairly clear." He turned around: the portal was shrunk to a tiny glowing speck, but it was still there. All those briefings, and all the classes, and he still had no idea how the technology worked. Or, why it worked. "Unbelievable."

"What?"

"Three and a half billion years. Oop…" He steadied himself. "There's some ground movement there. And I'm seeing volcanic activity."

"Nearby?"

"No, far off. Horizon. Big plumes of smoke. Whole place looks more like Io than home. Let me try to get to higher ground and I can—"

"Negative. Stay on primary task. We want the pools."

"There's one about ten feet away, stand by." He clambered across a ridge of slick rock, placing his boots and hands with methodical care. "Here we go. I'm taking out the sample tool, but…"

"What?"

"There's a film across the top of the water. Looks organic. It's well in progress here already."

There was a long pause. "Understood. Return to the portal. We'll just have to go back further."

Three Line Thursday: "Cohesion"

It's like a marble, she whispers, leaning in closer still.
She's ensorcelled by it, this simple bit of natural world,
As I am, in my own way, ensorcelled by her.

Redacted

"Good afternoon, ma'am. Are you Eunice Bond? Did you go to Shepherd High School in Isabella County?"

"Yes, that's me…"

"My name is Aggie Warfield. My grandmother was Penelope War— her maiden name was Adler. Penelope Adler?"

The woman's face lit up. "Oh, my goodness, Penny Adler. Come in dear, come in…"

As Eunice closed the door behind them, the girl continued, "I was wondering if you'd kept any pictures from back then, maybe something with my gran? I know it's been a long—"

"The only thing I have is the yearbook, it'd be right there on the shelf." She shook her head. "But they came and erased her, years ago."

"'They'?"

"The government, dear, the Department Of The Army. During the war. Two agents came, took all the loose photos. They left the yearbook, just smudged her out."

"Why?"

"Oh, Lord, dear, you didn't ask why during the war…"

SF Drabble #467 "Good Night, Universe"

I didn't have a room growing up, not as such.

My father invented a thing, a space and time thing. I don't know how it works. To listen to him try to explain it to people, he doesn't quite know how it works either.

I slept out on the Serengeti, so long as I could show Mother that no predators would pass by my chosen spot that night. I slept in a crook halfway up a Sequoia, after I'd shown Father I could secure my bed to the trunk, and myself to the bed.

Better than a room, I think.