Written in Light

by Jeff Young

  Written in Light

  And Other Futuristic Tales

  Jeff Young

  eSpec Books

  Pennsville, NJ

  PUBLISHED BY

  eSpec Books LLC

  Danielle McPhail, Publisher

  PO Box 242,

  Pennsville, New Jersey 08070

  www.especbooks.com

  Copyright ©2021 Jeff Young

  ISBN: 978-1-949691-37-5

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1-949691-36-8

  All rights reserved. No part of the contents of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the publisher.

  All persons, places, and events in this book are fictitious and any

  resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  “Written in Light.” Writers of the Future 26, edited by K. D. Wentworth,

  Galaxy Press, LLC, 2010, pp. 385-420.

  “The Janus Choice.” If We Had Known, edited by Mike McPhail, eSpec Books, LLC, 2017, pp. 51-68.

  “No Visitors Beyond This Point.” Trail of Indiscretion: Special Edition Two, edited by Brian Koscienski, Fortress Publishing, Inc, 2016, pp. 3-12.

  “A Talent Beyond My Talents.” Fantastic Futures 13, edited by Robert Waters and James R. Stratton, Padwolf Publishing, 2013, pp. 159-171.

  “Blankets.” By Other Means, edited by Mike McPhail, Dark Quest Books, LLC, 2011, pp. 25-34.

  “The Luminous Blind Spot.” Trail of Indiscretion, 2006, pp. 15–19.

  “Reading Between the Lines.” In a Flash 2016, edited by Danielle Ackley-McPhail, eSpec Books, LLC, 2016, pp. 36-38.

  “Liar’s Globe.” The Realm Beyond #4, 2012, pp. 51-55.

  Copyediting: Greg Schauer and John L. French

  Interior Design: Danielle McPhail

  Cover Design and Art Modification: Mike McPhail, McP Digital Graphics

  Cover Art: Tithi Luadthong, ID - 1207264096, www.shutterstock.com

  In Appreciation

  Thank you to all of the teachers, family, friends, and others who told me to keep writing—look, I did listen, kept at it, and here’s the proof.

  Thanks to Dyane, the brightest spot in the dark days of the Pandemic, who had to listen to me ponder and grouse about the necessities of writing and rewriting these stories. Your support and presence made this year much more bearable.

  Thanks, once again, to the folks at eSpec Books who made this possible and came back to publish yet another book of mine. Your support helps me remain focused on creating more fiction. Missed you this year and looking forward to seeing more of you as soon as possible.

  Thanks in advance to you, the reader, for purchasing this book. I hope you enjoy the ride. I had fun writing down the words and worlds for you to experience.

  JY

  Contents

  Written in Light

  Opportunity/Chance

  Affecting the Butterflies

  The Janus Choice

  No Visitors Beyond This Point

  A Talent Beyond My Talents

  Blankets

  The Luminous Blindspot

  Windfall

  Believe Me, I Know Happy

  Occam's Dagger

  Reading Between the Lines

  The Offering

  Usurer's Circle

  Aptitude

  Viewpoint

  Liar's Globe

  The Iron Apple

  About the Author

  Our Diverseform

  Written in Light

  For a moment, Zoi’ahmets stood as still as the tree the wickurn resembled, watching as the unknown creature stumbled backward from her. Perhaps it was the fact that Zoi’ahmets rose twice its height, her triple conjoined trunks, or the orange eye that she swiveled in its direction. Two podia, how could it manage like that? So inefficient in dealing with gravity, unstable surfaces, and even the strain over time on such a small surface area, certainly nothing like Zoi’ahmets’s designs. She had so little time to be certain that everything remained prepared for the Diversiform Dispute judging, and what in Winter happened here? The cognition engine finally linked with the translator nailed to her bark. Only then did she grasp that the sounds striking the translator were attempts at communication.

  Amazingly, the intruder turned its back completely on Zoi’ahmets and began to dig through the grass—a very anti-survival trait in an unresolved situation. Perhaps it lost something. She fed its image into the cognition engine, which identified the creature as a human. Trying to imagine what it might be searching for, the wickurn cast about with all her eyes looking over the thick verdure of the pampas and nearby bushes. There. Something black and lumpy with a short set of straps hung in the top of a shrub nearby. One branch reached for it as another gently spun the human around and faced it toward its property. The human awkwardly trudged through the grass. Zoi’ahmets gently handed it the case. It spared a moment to eye its benefactor thoughtfully and then dropped gracelessly to the ground to open the case. The human quickly extracted a silver device which, when clipped behind its ear, opened up like a flower. The shiny metallic petals spun and clicked restlessly in the afternoon sunlight. Another device fit about its neck and a third nestled in the center of its hand. Then Zoi’ahmets finally heard the human begin to speak.

  “_____ wickurn ______ about 3 meters ______ seems to be looking out for me. ______ see why it’s here. Since I’m as far into the Disputed zone as I am ______ ______ _______ _________. Can’t understand why it hasn’t ___________ with me yet.”

  “Communicated?” Zoi’ahmets offered as she pulled herself slowly to the human.

  “Yeah, actually,” the being stammered.

  “You were not exactly making intelligible sounds until just a moment ago.”

  “And you were pretending to be a tree! No, I’m sorry, you are a tree. You can’t help that. I guess I just never expected you to move.”

  “Why would I require help if I am in my natural state?”

  “Look, this isn’t going well. You’re one of the workers on this Diversiform Dispute, and I’m obviously keeping you from your job. I apologize for startling you, if that’s what I did.” It took a deep breath and continued, “I’m Kiona. I’m ... a student of the art of photography. I rode the ground vehicle over there until it stopped. Then the flight craft following us crashed into a tree. I’m so sorry to disturb you. I only wanted to learn more about the Disputed Zone.”

  It bowed slightly in Zoi’ahmets’ direction, focusing two green eyes on her.

  Zoi’ahmets raised a branch, and its eye could see there were fragments of debris at the base of a windrake tree. Flight craft? That could simply be a result of the inaccuracy of the translator. In fact, now that Zoi’ahmets looked at the wreckage, it bore a resemblance to an automated sampling drone. The small craft hung, entangled in the net of branches, its weight dragging down the tendrils and breaking them. Looking where indicated, she could see a surface sampling rover. A makeshift seat mounted to the top of the six-wheeled drone sat directly over the solar panel. Kiona must have ridden the sampler until it ran out of power. The aerial drone would have lost its guidance and then crashed. Could it really be that stupid, or could this be deliberate? Zoi’ahmets wondered.

  She turned back to the human in front of her. Perhaps an introduction, “I am Zoi’ahmets Calinve, chief architect of the Wickurn Diversiform entrant in this Dispute.” Gently tipping forward, she returned the bow as much as she could manage. Kiona backed up another step.

  “I am so sorry. I had no idea this is your environment. I never wanted to harm it.”

  Zoi’ahmets cocked a lower eye toward it. “But you had no problem entering the contested area to gain images of the Dispute—did you? You
appear to have subverted a sampling drone to carry you. It’s surprising the drone made it this far.”

  With that, she began the typical spiraling walk of a wickurn toward the drone. All the while, she thought to herself, I must find a way to get this thing out of here as quickly as possible. She’d heard that humans were allowed onto this Dispute World and didn’t know how she felt about the imposition. Now she had one interrupting her work. For a second, she considered that her opponents might have put the intruder here to hinder her.

  Kiona started after her, but the wickurn found herself waiting as the human pulled at one of the coverings on its feet and set to work on something lodged in an ankle. When it held the annoyance to the light to look at it, Zoi’ahmets dropped a branch eye to view it as well.

  “Caltrop seed,” she said. “Something I designed that will allow animals to transport seeds. Helps to propagate various bushes. Basically, harmless, but in your case perhaps annoying.” Also, a distraction, thought Zoi’ahmets, instead let’s find out why you are here. “Let us have a look at your conveyance.”

  Her eyes studied Kiona for a moment as her branch, vane leaves unfurling, drifted across Kiona’s shoulder to urge it along. She pushed aside rising annoyance and moved forward.

  While the human trotted beside Zoi’ahmets as the wickurn’s three root clusters rolled through the thick grasses, Zoi’ahmets took a moment to access the cognition engine and review the biology reports for humanity. Just to be thorough, she’d made certain to download a full bio-summary of all the judges’ species and anyone who might be visiting the Dispute. Thank Summer, there were no immediate concerns regarding her bio-system.

  Looking briefly at Kiona, Zoi’ahmets suddenly realized this was a female of their species and estimated her age at about twelve winters. At first glance, Kiona appeared to be in good health. However inappropriate, one of the humans may have decided to take a firsthand look at the entrants to the Dispute rather than waiting as tradition dictated.

  Zoi’ahmets looked briefly down at Kiona, considering her again. Humanity had joined the galactic community later than most, and there were concerns among the established species. Humans bred faster than most galactics and still had not modified themselves to limit their numbers. In a community where the primary means of gaining additional planetary growing room was based upon the ability to create effective complete environments for the Diversiform Disputes, most participants learned by modifying their homes and themselves first. Humanity had done a remarkable job of terra-forming numerous worlds, but the issue of their unregulated propagation still remained.

  Because Zoi’ahmets’s contemplation slowed her pace, Kiona darted ahead of the wickurn toward the crash of the airborne sampling drone. With a quick glance, Zoi’ahmets noted that it was made of tensioned monomolecular fabric. The remains of a nearby wing swinging overhead seemed to be mostly gas cells with monomole struts. Looking back toward the ground sampler, unease made her stomachs churn. Zoi’ahmets studied Kiona for a moment. Was the human not telling her everything? What was going on here? Did she have time for this?

  Zoi’ahmets paused in consideration and looked up at the sky. Reflexively, she called up a weather survey. The cognition engine brought up a real-time satellite map displaying the relatively calm but cloudy current weather and a storm front moving toward their location. Perhaps Kiona hadn’t intended to be out for long, or perhaps being trapped here was all part of the plan. The transmission faded out as Zoi’ahmets became lost in her own considerations.

  In the meantime, the human walked about the surface drone. Kiona pulled out another strap-bearing bag from the grass and rummaged through it. Her hand showed through a hole in the bottom as her face skewed, and she murmured something that the translator box didn’t quite register. She turned to Zoi’ahmets.

  “Something ate my food, and the only thing left is a snack square. Hopefully, it wasn’t anything of yours that might be poisoned by it.”

  That briefly perplexed Zoi’ahmets. It certainly wasn’t the type of comment someone with a nefarious purpose would make unless Kiona’s intent was to deliberately mislead her.

  Zoi’ahmets watched as Kiona crawled further among the pampas, where she found a round container twice the size of her palm and pushed that into her black bag. “The rover is ruined,” Kiona commented.

  Sadly, the human appeared to be right. Slipping into a gully after it lost power and communication with the satellite grid, the drone snapped two of its three axels.

  Zoi’ahmets noticed that the base of Kiona’s leg where it emerged from the grass was no longer the same color as the rest of her. It was the same foot from which she’d withdrawn the caltrop seed.

  Zoi’ahmets reached into a mouth. Probing gently past her gullet into one of the xylem spaces, she pulled out a round cylinder. She shook out the tiny arrow-shaped chenditi that clung to the sides. They landed on her lower trunk. Zoi’ahmets’s large orange eye watched as the chenditi absorbed enough solar energy to fill the lift cells in their small bodies by splitting moisture from the air into hydrogen and oxygen. Separately, the little creatures were mere animals. A small swarm equipped with send/receive components acted as a collective intelligence.

  Kiona stopped her scavenging to watch as the swarm lifted into the air. One half of each arrowhead was dark black, and the opposite canted at an angle covered with a shiny prismatic surface. Zoi’ahmets noticed that when Kiona stood up from the rover, she favored her left leg.

  At first, Kiona shied as the chenditi flitted about her but was apparently familiar with their ability to do chemical and medical diagnostics. They quickly surrounded the human, and she held her arms out from her body as they spun about her. “Like a cloud of butterflies.” Kiona laughed at the image. She drew her gaze back to Zoi’ahmets. Her glance was quick, and her lips slid to one side, a slight breeze lifting her shoulder-length blonde fur. “I do know what they’re for. What do you think is wrong with me?”

  “That is what they will tell us.”

  “Will you tell me, though?”

  Zoi’ahmets was completely taken aback by that comment. Had they not established a basis for trust? Was this further evidence of malicious intent? Was the human aware that Zoi’ahmets harbored suspicions concerning her motives? Further queries of the cognition engine suddenly made her realize something she missed earlier—this was a sapling, not an adult. Zoi’ahmets was briefly off-balance trying to align her own species's view with that of human development. Wickurn budlings were given enough of the parent’s memories to be instantly viable and then grew into mobility while developing a unique persona. They hardly compared to a species whose young were born with a tabula rasa. Human adults gave trust to younglings as they provided evidence that they were developed enough to earn it. Zoi’ahmets formed a suitable reply as the data from the chenditi medical assessment came through. “I have no reason not to be honest with you.”

  Kiona shook her head. “Typical adult. You didn’t answer my question.”

  She reached into her pack and pulled out a white-wrapped square. Peeling back an edge, she began to eat. Zoi’ahmets devoted part of her attention to Kiona and the rest to the results. Most of Kiona’s biochemistry was a mystery to Zoi’ahmets, but the chenditi found chemicals that were out of balance for the information the cognition engine carried about typical humans. Hormone levels were elevated, and there was an odd reaction with something called histamines as well. The girl’s core temperature registered two degrees above standard, and there were abnormal red streaks and swelling in the area where Kiona removed the seed.

  “You have an infection, possibly caused by your injury and possibly due to exposure to microorganisms in the air. Do you have an emergency kit? My medicines and those the chenditi can produce will not help your physiology,” Zoi’ahmets stated.

  The chenditi swarm came to rest, clinging to the bark of her trunk, their small bodies twitching and jerking as they arranged themselves to soak up the maximum light.

&
nbsp; Kiona stopped eating the snack square, brow furrowing slightly. She reached into her bag and pulled out the round container she’d rescued from the wreckage. Prying back a corner, she poked and prodded at the interior. A few chenditi flew to look over her shoulder, and she held up the contents one by one to the small creatures.

  “Those will not help. Can you walk?” Zoi’ahmets asked as the chenditi returned. Kiona pushed herself to her feet, leaning against the wickurn’s rough bark.

  Watching Kiona, Zoi’ahmets’ mind raced. What should she do now? It would take valuable time to return the human to the Judging Area. Would Zoi’ahmets be given any dispensation toward additional time to test her results? She felt confident in the current development of the biosphere but was reluctant to give up any additional time. Then she considered the infection. Her opponents in the Diversity Dispute, the tio chaundon, used virii to control certain developmental aspects of their biosphere. Were they infecting Zoi’ahmets’ biosphere? Could this be a deliberate attempt at sabotage?

  She tried to use the satellite uplink but received only the hum of static. A frisson of panic ran up her trunks, making Zoi’ahmets dig her roots into the topsoil. Was she in danger from Kiona? Had the human cut Zoi’ahmets off from the satellite net, or had the tio chaundon?

  Zoi’ahmets quelled the desire to distance herself from the human. All the same, she could not abandon another sentient in need. There was also the consideration that the judges would inevitably be made aware of what transpired here. Her choices narrowed considerably. At least by accompanying the human, she could observe Kiona and ensure the girl did no damage to the environment. Otherwise, if a tio chaundon virus infected the human, Zoi’ahmets couldn’t afford to have Kiona perish under her protection.