SF Drabble 468 “Incomplete Pass”

The capsule tumbled away in excruciating slow-motion, engine bell over nosecone, shrinking against the blue and green and white and brown of the planet below.

“Ross?”

“Copy.”

She sighed. “I missed.”

“What?” A pause stretched out into a lull, into a quietly hissing eternity. Then: “Okay… Okay: FERN says not to panic. We can intercept in less than an hour, if we don’t wait for the window.”

“How much fuel does that leave you?”

Another long pause followed. “FERN says not to worry about it.”

“Patch her into comms.”

“She says not to worry. And she’s a computer. So relax.”

Zombie Drabble #434 “Never Goes Out Of Fashion”

“Somebody help!”

Someone was in the hall, the hall outside the apartment, running back and forth, knocking on doors, yelling: a girl, young, panicked, desperate. He listened from the floor of his front closet between ski boots and suitcase-with-wheels.

“Please somebody! Help me!”

There was the old wooden bat, the one with A-Rod’s signature burned into it by a machine, the one his dad had given him when he turned ten, a million years ago in a world that still made sense. He grabbed it, clutched it in both hands.

He white-knuckled it as he listened to her being eaten.

Attrition

He was standing at attention, but staring down at the floor, lost in thought. He hadn’t heard his name.

The General repeated, “Lieutenant Asche.”

“Ma’am.”

“I’m told that you were the only member of your unit to reach your objective, and single-handedly destroyed it. You must be very proud.” She turned to take the medal box from her aide-de-camp.

“I suppose so, Ma’am.”

“You suppose so?” She looked amused as she pulled the award from its box, smoothed out the ribbon, prepared to hang it around his neck. “Why wouldn’t you be proud?”

He opened his mouth, paused, said nothing.

“Out with it, Lieutenant.”

“It was… the target was a crèche, General. A Woolie crèche.” He couldn’t meet her eyes as he spoke. “No military value at all. Just… babies.”

“Woolies gestate twice as fast as humans, did you know that, Lieutenant Asche? And they’re four times as likely to bear multiples.” She stepped a bit closer, placed the ribbon over his head and around his neck, speaking quietly. “If we’re going to win this thing, we’ve got to do what’s necessary. It’s a numbers game, Lieutenant.”

She winked, stepped back, saluted him smartly, moved on to the next soldier.

Just Maybe Worth It

She runs things, the whole Lows from the Hook all the way down to the Five Ways. Her boys, man, they called the Faces ‘cept they ‘aint got none, all masks and shit, all covered up, so nobody can know ‘em to the Eyes.

You ask her for something, you best know what it is you want, and what you willing to give up for it, because she can make it hurt, even just for fun, just to prove she can, or she can give it free just as easy, just to prove she can.

There been dudes who say they’ve had her, but they don’t last long. Either they lie and she punish them or she just don’t leave no exes. So brother, don’t bark up that tree, know what I’m saying? She throw you out, you hit every branch on the way down, you don’t get up after.

Retrieval

I can’t believe you, she said. I can’t believe you did this to me. To us.

It had been early evening, then, the sun low on the horizon surrounded by streaks of red and orange as if to frame her anger with a complementary background, the light glinting off her ring as it sailed from her hand out into the featureless water. Now, it was early morning, days later, almost a week; the rented yacht long gone, replaced by a dinghy with an outboard four-stroke motor.

I’m sorry, okay? I over-reacted. I should have trusted you. Her voice was chastened, humbled, pleading. What do we do?

He leapt from the boat into the water, no mask or tanks, head down and eyes open, trying to find that lost glint against the deep blue darkness.

It’s still down there… somewhere down there is my ring. She took his hand. Please, John?