Showing posts with label horns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horns. Show all posts

Friday, April 1, 2022

Microstory 1855: Man in the Street

Once upon a time, I was sitting at a red light, second in line, waiting for it to change, but in no big hurry. A car pulled up behind me, and started to wait too. Before too long, I felt a lurch. I checked my sideview mirror, and saw that he had knocked into my bumper, and he hadn’t even attempted to back away. My dog’s kennel was still in the back, because we had just gone to the dog park the day before, and if I lived with one fatal flaw, it was my procrastination. So I couldn’t see how the other driver was reacting to this with my rearview mirror. I could tell, however, that he wasn’t getting out of the car. There was probably no damage, because he was moving at less than a kilometer an hour, but I still felt obliged to exchange information. So I did get out, and approached him. I could immediately see that something was wrong. His face was pressed up against his steering wheel, and he wasn’t moving. I instinctively started knocking on the window, and trying to open the latch, but he wasn’t responding, and of course, it was locked. Just due to my interference, he slumped down a bit until his head was pressing against the horn. So it was blaring, the light was green, we weren’t moving, and the people behind us were honking too. There was only one lane, so they couldn’t go around. They probably thought we were stupid for not making a right turn, and dealing with this in that empty parking lot. I knew I had to do something; not for those people, but the hurt person in the car. I remembered that my son bought me and my wife both a special tool that could break through car glass. I ran back to retrieve it, and bashed the back window so I could unlock the stranger’s door. I didn’t know what I was going to do. This was just before cell phones, so I couldn’t call for help. I had once learned CPR, but I forgot all but the basic concept behind it, and I wasn’t sure I could pull it off safely.

As I was dragging him out, a motorcycle cop pulled up. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could see the broken window, and the unconscious man in my arms, so he assumed the worst. He pointed his gun at my head, and started screaming at me. It took a surprising amount of effort to convince him that I wasn’t the bad guy here. The man was hurt, and I needed help. After quickly calling for an ambulance on the radio, the police officer actually began to perform CPR, and I stood back to let him do his thing. Meanwhile, the other cars managed to find openings where they could drive on the wrong side of the road, and get around us. It was a slow process, but it was working, and people just needed to have some patience. One driver wasn’t patient. I don’t know if he didn’t see what was happening, or if he didn’t care, but he was going far too fast, and he was uncomfortably close to the line of cars waiting their turn. I had to think fast. I ran past the cop, and the unconscious man on the ground, took hold of the motorcycle, and summoned all the strength in my body to throw it to the ground. The reckless driver slammed right into it, and that was just enough to divert him away from the cop and his patient. I wasn’t so lucky. A piece of shrapnel shot out of the bike, and lodged itself in my chest. The first guy was still hurt, the bad driver wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, so I could see him halfway up on his dashboard. I think some shrapnel hit the cop too, because his forehead was bleeding. And I thought I was probably going to die. Obviously I didn’t. We all survived, and I’m still friends with the man I helped save, and the police officer. The reckless driver found himself going in and out of jail. This wasn’t his only offense.

Sunday, July 18, 2021

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, December 7, 2275

This wasn’t the first time that Mateo and Leona returned to the timestream to find their environment having changed dramatically. Mateo once broke his leg when the train he was on at midnight was no longer under his feet. Later, he and Leona woke up in a forest that experienced a devastating fire sometime during the year. Now on this planetesimal, in this hangar, their instinct was to venture out, and just figure out what was going on. Olimpia didn’t think that was such a great idea. “Computer, whisper mode.”
Yes, can I help you?” the AI offered, but in a much quieter voice than she generally did.
“How did you get into this hangar? Is it where you landed?” Olimpia asked.
I was transported here after landing,” the computer replied. “The outpost on this planetesimal was established five years ago.
“Has anyone made any attempt to breach the hull of the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez?” Olimpia continued.
They have made attempts, but all have failed. They wanted to get in carefully, and without damaging anything.
“Do you know what their hypothesis is regarding the nature of this ship?”
I am not cognizant of that.
“No one has been in here,” Olimpia stated to the group. “No one knows that this thing has been empty for the last five years, let alone that last nineteen, and that people have suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They probably think it’s from an alien race, but they’re afraid to do anything to upset some kind of cosmic balance.”
“So, what should we do?” Leona asked. She was happy with not being the one to have to come up with all the solutions for a change.
Olimpia considered it for a moment. “Let’s just bail. Why go out there and introduce ourselves? We’re not here to meet them. They’re not supposed to be here at all. Our business is on Earth. Let’s teleport to maximum distance, and continue doing that until we reach our destination.”
“Leona, can you plot a course that avoids detection until we reach Earth?” Angela questions.
I can’t, but the AOC herself can.”
“I don’t wanna, like, try to force anyone to agree with me,” Olimpia said, a little defensively. “This is just what I think we should do. Anyone else have any ideas? I mean, it’s entirely possible that the hangar was built for us, and the people out there have been waiting for our return, because they’ve known who we were the entire time.”
“If we were meant to go talk to them,” Mateo began, “then something would force us to do so. Like you said, let’s just bail.”
Everyone else seemed to agree as well, much to Olimpia’s relief. Though they had been friends for the last three years, she still felt a little bit like an outsider...like her opinion mattered less than the rest of the group. Of course that wasn’t true. Hopefully they would be able to convince her otherwise in time. For now, they needed to get out of here. Leona and the computer synthesized the present-day solar system. They accessed a detailed map, which told them where every outpost, every ship, every beacon was right now. Knowing this was going to allow them to teleport to blindspots, where no one would be able to detect their presence. They wouldn’t go full burst mode, because that endangered the integrity of the hull, but if they teleported fast enough, even if they accidentally got too close to a sensor, they would be gone before it could verify what it was seeing, and maybe mark it down as a technical error.
It took them most of the day, since the best route didn’t max out their teleporter range, and they couldn’t go through the manifold highway, so it wasn’t the fastest, but they made it back. They were now in the hangar where the Sharice Davids was once kept. At first, it didn’t seem like anyone was using it. Then four people came out of the shadows. No, they weren’t in the shadows, they were behind them. They appeared out of an illusion of a wall, but behind it was the past version of the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Ramses, Tracker, The Stitcher, and Flex. These were the four people Leona found to help them with their fight against Erlendr Preston. That was in an old reality, though, if they weren’t mistaken. Why were they here now?
“You’re not supposed to arrive until next year,” Leona said, looking at her watch. “We thought this place would be empty.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” a past version of Ramses said. “We’ve come here to meet you, and it seems we’re right on time.”
Leona shook her head. “We are future versions of your friends. If Past!Us are gonna show up today, then we have to get the hell out of here.”
“It’s okay,” Mateo tried to assure her. “I think I have this figured out. It’s a different reality. We don’t have to worry about a paradox. In fact, we should save them some trouble, if we can.”
“That’s dangerous, Mateo,” Leona warned.
Nerakali suddenly appeared with past versions of Mateo, Leona, and Jeremy.
“I think it’s kind of too late,” Future!Mateo said.
Nerakali took a step forward. She was surprised, but not shocked. “Report.”
Future!Mateo smiled, and looked over at his crew to make sure no one wanted to say anything for themselves. He decided to take charge of this situation. “First, let’s do introductions. Future!Jeremy Bearimy, Future!Leona Matic, Angela Walton, and Olimpia Sangster. Over on this side, we have my good friend, Ramses Abdulrashid. Next to him is Vidar Wolfe, Tonya Keyes, and Yadira Cordosa. Lastly, we have a younger version of Nerakali Preston. She is still alive, and it looks good on her.”
Nerakali rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her own smile. “Anything else?”
“We’re not just from the future,” Future!Mateo went on. “We’re from an alternate reality. Nothing you do will impact what has happened to us. What’s done is done. Fortunately for you, we went through the heartache for you. We can fix your Erlendr problem. Then once we do...” He hesitated.
“Once you do...” Past!Mateo pressed, “what?”
Future!Mateo sort of started focusing on his alternate self more. “This timeline ain’t big enough for the both of us.”
“You’re suggesting we assimilate with each other?” Past!Mateo presumed.
Future!Mateo shook his head. “We’ve made a lot of friends since 2275. I don’t know what you’ve been through, who you’ve met. I don’t even know when you and I diverged. But at some point, someone suggested to me that they could get me and Leona out of here. They could take us to a place where the powers that be, and the choosing ones, couldn’t get to us. They called it Havenverse.”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“That dream is dead for us,” Future!Mateo revealed. “Leona, you agree?”
“Yes,” Future!Leona said, completely sincerely. She hadn’t thought about the prospect in a long time.
Future!Mateo continued, “I’ll get you there. I’ll reach out to someone I know who knows someone else, and we will find you a ride. Would you like that?”
“What are you gonna do?” Past!Mateo asked.
Future!Mateo chuckled once, and looked lovingly over at his wife. “This is our life now. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, not anymore.”
She smiled back.
Past!Mateo and Past!Leona did the same with each other. “Can we do that?” the former questioned. “Can we just...bail?”
“I think we deserve that, don’t you?”
“I guess, I just...”
Before either of them could produce a definitive answer, a horn echoed throughout the facility. The Transit came flying across the room out of one portal, and into another. Just as before, it stopped. But that was 2276. What was it doing here a year early? Why was everyone a year early in this timeline? Saga didn’t come out this time. It was a man that no one recognized. That was another thing, no one was frozen in place this time around. Everyone was seeing this happen. The man cleared his throat while he was consulting his handheld device. “My name is Wyatt Bradley. I have been asked to come out here, and inform you that we are looking for Evaluator Nerakali Wilson.”
“Scroll up, buddy,” Nerakali said.
Wyatt swipes up on his device. “Oh, you’re right. Nerakali Preston. Sorry about that. I think Wilson’s already on the train.”
“I’ve always wanted to meet her,” the real Nerakali said excitedly.
“Can you even go?” Future!Mateo asked. “I mean...because...”
“I’m sure the universe will figure it out. I have been summoned.” She started to head for the ramp.
“Wait,” Future!Mateo said, prompting his friend to stop. “Can you take two more? Can you take them to a different universe, somewhere that’s outside of the war?” This would be easier than trying to communicate through Amber.
Another man appeared from the train car. “We do not rescue refugees. Are they fleeing oppression?”
“Yes,” Future!Leona claimed. The truth was too complicated to say whether she was lying or not.
“I’ll send word to The Strongbox. If they accept your application, then they’ll be here immediately after we leave. If not...then you’re out of luck. I don’t make those decisions. That’s for Thack to worry about.”
Nerakali tried to leave again, but Yadira said, “wait,” as well. “I was told to get on the train by someone who knows the future.”
“You’re already on it,” the unnamed man said.
“Oh.”
The man sighed. “I suppose you can’t have too many Flexes, can you? Come on.”
Yadira looked back to make sure everyone was cool with her decision, and their facial expressions showed that they were. Now both she and Nerakali started trying to make it up the ramp.
“Wait, I have to know what this is,” Vidar said.
“If you come, you have to fight. This is a war transport vessel, not a ferry.”
“I...have to know,” Vidar explained.
“Very well. Does anybody else want to come, besides the refugees?”
No one else seemed to want to, so finally, the three conscripts were able to start leaving. But there were two more delays. Before Vidar could make it past the threshold, he disappeared. He then started jogging up from behind the group. “Sorry, sorry. I just kind of had to...die first. But I’m resurrected, and back!” Having returned from the afterlife simulation, his loop was now closed, and his destiny was his own to do with it as he pleased. The same thing happened to Nerakali, whose death was also predetermined.
Once the doors were closed, the Transit left through its portal. A much, much smaller vessel appeared from its incoming portal, and stopped in the same place. A woman came out from it. “I hear we got some refugees?”
“Are we sure about this?” Past!Mateo asked. “This isn’t going to cause any problems for the timeline.”
“We’ll handle it,” Future!Mateo said honestly.
“Thank you,” the two of them said simultaneously. As they were boarding, the woman introduced herself as Rosalinda. They heard a scream, and the ship disappeared.
Mateo clapped his hands. “Gang’s all here. Let’s go take care of The Warrior.”

Tuesday, February 4, 2020

Microstory 1292: The Coney and Her Ears

A lion was trying to eat the meat of a goat he had captured when the goat’s horns scratched his face up. One of them nearly took out his eye when he leaned over, and this angered the lion greatly. Not wanting to risk anything like this happening again, the lion stood on top of his proclamation rock, and proclaimed that all animals with horns of any kind will be banished from the lands. Anyone fitting the description was required to leave within one day. Now, of course the coney did not have horns, but she did have long ears on top of her head, which the lion might take offense to. She could not sleep that not for fear of the lion becoming angry with her for staying. He did say that anyone with horns of any kind should leave; perhaps her tall ears were close enough. When she stepped out of her hole the following morning, the sun’s light fell upon her head, and cast a long shadow on the ground before her, making her ears look even larger than they normally did. She even convinced herself that they were horn-like. Now she was certain that it wasn’t worth the risk to stick around. She was so upset about having to move, but she did not want to suffer the lion’s wrath. He was such a fearsome creature, and she was such a little thing. “Goodbye,” she said to all her friends. “I do not want to go, but I have no other choice.”

“Good for you,” said the badger.

“How is this good?” the coney asked.

“Why, all the horned animals are looking at this development the wrong way,” the badger tried to explain. “Sure, you have to move, but you should be happier than anyone. After all, you’re not supposed to want to be eaten by a predator. It is the rest of us who must continue to live in fear.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Hare and His Ears.

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Microstory 792: Sharp Top

The sharptop prairie bear is one of the rarest animals in the world. To most people’s knowledge, the prairie bear is not a bear at all, but a subspecies of the rhinoceros family. And like other rhinoceroses, it has been hunted vehemently for its horn. Unlike other rhinos, however, it is distinguished by a thick coat of fur, reminiscent of the prehistoric woolly rhino. While other conservationists are championing the protection of the other types of rhinos, few are concerned with the sharptop’s plight, and with not illogical reason. Sharptops are powerful and violent beasts, known for raiding nonthreatening camps, and rampaging against safari vehicles. They are a relative outlier in the animal kingdom in that they will attack totally unprovoked. Evolutionary biologists believe that this actually serves a purpose for survival. Though now apex predators, they were believed to have once been hunted by the giant firetigers that once roamed their lands. In order to survive, sharptops adapted their digestive system so they could consume both plants, and other animals. At some point in their development, they decided to stop eating plants, and are the only carnivorous rhino alive today. Still, the giant firetiger was spry and cunning, and continued to stalk their prey relentlessly, so the sharptop had to change again by maintaining a constant state of acute stress response. Basically, they are hyperaware of their environment, and can be set off by the slightest movement. Though their horns are relatively small, they are unique, and prized amongst poachers for how dangerous and difficult it is to procure one. And so they are an endangered species, but one that is left largely unaided by the nonprofit community. Seeing this as wrong, Algerian conservationist and veterinary pathologist, Narimane Kateb has devoted her life to curing the sharptop prairie bear’s perpetual tension. Her goal is to sway public opinion on the animal, and gather funding to improve the species’ population. And she’s almost done it.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Microstory 10: Guardian Demon

Everyone else in this realm has a guardian angel. But I have a guardian demon. There was a clerical error at the Pseudocelestial Being Staffing Agency that they refuse to acknowledge. So, I'm stuck with him. One of the benefits of having a guardian is being able to name yours whatever you want. But I never did. I've regretted it no more than I do today. My demon has generally been a trickster. He'll hide my car keys in the tissue box. He'll cause my radio station to play the same Jack White song three times in one day. One time he just put on a matching set of clothes and copied my every move throughout the day. My coworkers were not amused. I giggled once, and no one has let me forget it. My demon has been on the job for 30 Earthan years now and that's usually when demons finally earn their horns. But due to what his superior officers called "a peculiar and unacceptable choice in vocation" he'll never get them. He went on a rampage. He never hurt anyone, mind you. Acting somewhat like an angel for three decades sort of softens you up. But he broke a lot of things, made several dozen people late for their yoga classes, and ridiculed a mallard to the point of tears. Yeah. They can cry. Look it up! It comes out of their tear ducks. Eventually, my demon was so exhausted that he could do no more damage except for a few nasty remarks to hipster college students passing by. One of the students stopped in his tracks and turned. His eyes gave off the familiar silvery glow of an archangel. He was being temporarily possessed. "Are you Pseudocelestial Being 97843740?" the archangel asked.

"I am," my demon replied, about to rip his own face off.

"Ah. We've been looking for you. You were supposed to earn your angel wings this morning."

"I'm a demon."

"We know. We made an exception."

"Uhh..."

"Did you make all this mess?"

"Well, yeah."

"Never mind, then."