The Future Is Closer Than You Think

by Zaslow Crane

  The buzzing suddenly grew more intense.

  For some damn reason, Abbot stood up to run and he was almost cut in half by flying circular serrated cutting wheels, around 200 hundred millimeters across traveling at nearly supersonic speed! Suddenly, these wheels were coming for each of us!

  The blades, I counted a dozen or more that went after Saint, imbedded themselves hotly in the berm.

  The ones that came for me with ass-puckering speed and ferocity, ricocheting off all the nearby trees, scaring the crap out of me until they settled down, dented and buzzing slightly, lying all around my position. For just an instant, I debated whether shooting them would be a good thing, but since they held still, I nervously looked downrange

  Then, the Roc appeared and swooping in, settled noiselessly and remorselessly upon Saint. The huge thing made eye contact with me, maybe 100 meters away, as if daring me to do something about this new attack. One great red-brown eye on the near side of its head fixed upon me and dilated repeatedly. Was it anger? Fear? Territorial behavior?

  Unknown.

  This caused me to hesitate, seeing that in a great alien creature.

  In a second, he was lifting off again. Saint was no longer there!

  I took aim with my cannon, hoping there was enough of a charge left to do some damage, when the Roc exploded! My finger never touched the trigger.

  I covered my face. The blast was impressive.

  Oh…Birdie. You picked the wrong meal!

  The huge burning feather ball and a smaller burnt thing tumbled slowly to the ground not far away.

  Panting, I went to check on Abbot.

  Abbot was in bad shape; dying.

  “Well, friend…” He choked a bit. “Too bad that is, but more

  for us, there is. Blest. Blest! Half and half, eh? How’s that for a payday, eh?” I wondered: Was he in shock? Did he not know there was no way this side of a full-on field hospice unit that he was going to survive? Was it shock? Was it bravado? Was this the Laoastacin speaking? Was it just wanting to “win”?

  Who knows? Who cares! All this is well past my pay grade, I thought, breathing heavily and angry. My boots are trashed.

  I looked down. Abbot’s feet…Abbot’s boots might fit me…

  I took them. He didn’t protest.

  The air reeked of death, offal, piss and shite. Just like Taranga.

  Damn. Just like Taranga! Except for the garlic. That’s new.

  Oh, at that moment, that’s when a new and troubling wrinkle occurred to me: Aren’t birds usually in pairs?

  I wasn’t certain I could make the best strategic decisions possible in my exhausted condition, but I figured to try.

  I put Abbot’s boots on, tossing my boots away.

  I stood up. Ready.

  I sniffed. By now, I’d almost gotten used to the burnt garlic smell. My mouth watered. I thought about how much garlic that would take – to make this whole…theatre…smell like garlic.

  It’d cost a fucking fortune! My mind reeled…Shock, exhaustion, bloodloss, pain…I ticked them all off on a list in my brain.

  Abbot was dying, nearly dead, bleeding out; Saint was long gone by now, as was Pope, Deacon, and Priest.All gone. Except me.

  Abbot called out to me: “Bishop. Bishop!” His voice was an urgent croak.

  I ignored him. I got up; started walking.

  I kept moving toward the monument, my laser cannon at the ready.

  He called again. “Bishop!”

  I turned and shouted over my shoulder: “I’m not Bishop. My name’s Linklattar…”

  I faced the devils who had tormented us and shouted again: “Linklatter!!”

  I didn’t care if the aliens knew my name, so I shouted it out for any to hear. I figure you ought to at least know the name of the guy who’s gonna kill you.

  One thing that I’ve always hated is when I’m getting

  towards the end of the book and I notice that there’s only three pages left.

  I think: Dang! The book is almost over. They’re gonna have to wrap it up fast, now! I hate this because it tips the author’s hand and tells me (You?) where the climax is.

  I have always felt cheated by that.

  So the last few pages and the next few pages are there to keep you from figuring out how and when “The Roc Of Petra” is supposed to end, and to make you wonder what’s still to come. There is a bit more. Scroll down.

  I hope that you have enjoyed the stories; I hope that they made you think, shudder, laugh or…call your accountant in the middle of the night.

  I hope that I entertained you…And I hope that you’ll pick up

  The Future Is Closer Than You Think…Book 2, coming soon.

  Be well Be happy

  —Z

  BY ZASLOW CRANE

  P

  reliminary notes on flora, fruits and vegetables of Perelandra; Perelandra’s Bounty.

  By Jefferey Wannamaker, lead exo biologist, Sam Cho, lead exo chemist, Lara Potemkin (posthumously), lead exo nutritionist Please note: This is by no means definitive, nor a complete compendium of our findings on this, our first colonizable planet.

  The livestock and personnel are too rare and valuable to risk unnecessarily, and so our aim is to disseminate information as quickly and thoroughly as possible to forestall any further injury—either to an individual, any of our breeding animals or the new colony as a whole.

  Careful screening in the laboratory can, of course save lives, but the laboratory is not always available, and so, a good solid general knowledge is something to be fostered throughout the colonists.

  And, while a number of indigenous fruits and vegetables and grains have proven to be edible (but with mixed nutritional benefits) there are some varieties that bear some caution, even avoidance.

  (More information will be added on an as learned basis.)

  P Apples . (Please see appendix 4 through 14 for pictures, both whole and dissected, P Apples in their natural state and further findings regarding their seeding systemization.)

  This is a perfect example of a fruit that can be perfectly safe and nominally nutritious, if handled properly; carefully.

  The P apple looks like a rather large, robust Macintosh apple. Underneath the off-red skin however is another membrane that takes up nearly half of the insides. This membrane is inert and if cut away the fruit can be enjoyed safely. If ingested, the secondary membrane, the outer hypanthium (as opposed to the inner hypanthium) is rather dangerous, at least in human bodies, as found out by those rash enough to try some of the fruit without thorough testing.

  The secondary membrane seems to serve a reproductive purpose, as we believe that it provides more protection for the ovaries and ovule, from predation. If an unwitting animal were to simply bite into it without foreknowledge, it might learn the hard way that this was not something it should eat.

  That is: In the human intestines it simply congeals, unmoving, eventually causing a complete blockage if enough of the outer hypanthium is consumed.

  Note: The outer hypanthium looks and tasted more or less the same as the inner hypanthium, but has a different texture and chemical structure. We’ve been forced to perform two emergency bowel resections so far (one on our teammate Mr. Cho) and while not dangerous, nor difficult, one feels that it is an operation that might have been avoided with a trifle more prudence and care; less enthusiasm and familiarity.

  The stem, or pedicel is to be avoided completely by man and beast because it is devoid of nutritional benefit and holds a concentrate of the tree itself. More on ‘trees’ as follows:

  Wally trees and as near as we can determine all trees to varying extents, on Perelandra – are peculiar. We surmise that this must present some evolutionary advantage, but our team is at a loss to explain why the following traits are a benefit.

  The ground around trees on Perelandra seems to be exceedingly acidic; so acidic, that lying in the shade of a tree under the sometimes oppressive heat of Sol 2, people have been burned. In truth
, they have been burned right through our day-to-day, light non-protective clothing, (not the lite-enviro suits that we recommend for daily wear outside of the compound) and it doesn’t take very long to scald, such is the type and strength of the acid. More tests are being run to determine if there are simple ways we might neutralize this acid. (Please see appendix 16 through 44 for pictures, specs, graphs on acidity, photos of burn victims, more…)

  Local fauna, similar to squirrels and very small monkey-like animals have been documented climbing in these trees, standing with no ill or obvious effects on the ground adjacent to trees, and even doing cursory digging in the soil. Again, with no apparent ill effects.

  We chopped down a few trees in a stand to see if the ground would revert to its normally mostly benign characteristics. We’ve been waiting for nearly six weeks, and while the soil acidity has abated somewhat, it is inconclusive so far as to whether a tree ‘damages’ the soil permanently or, if in time, it reverts.

  It should be noted that while preliminary scouting and surveys have been done of the other two continents (Across the Timour Sea), no extended study has been undertaken. However, there is no evidence to suggest that conditions are substantially different on Maleldril or Tenindril, the other two landmasses on Perelandra, so where and when we do explore, care is warranted.

  Artichokes —named because they resemble artichokes of old Earth before the Change, though if our records from Old Earth are correct our measurements put these artichokes at approximately three times the size of the largest Terran artichokes.

  (See appendix 45- 61 for “Chokes” growing wild, “Chokes” cultivated in our test garden and for an anatomical cross section. Note: the “thorn” section should be discarded immediately. It makes good compost and is not – I repeat not edible.)

  These plants are so far, our greatest find, in that there seems to be no ill effects for those, human or animal, consuming them. Moreover they seem to be quite nutritious if not particularly savory. (This last observation is a personal one. There are quite a few colonists who eat the P-Chokes with gusto.)

  The choke itself is a rather benign afterthought with a huge tasty heart that is easily accessed by cutting the stem and going in through the bottom.

  The vitamins and minerals in these ‘chokes could easily sustain a human long term. The Purple Solanaceae

  High altitude, Hi Rez surveys show that this plant grows wild throughout the entire planet, except for at the poles, where nothing much is seen to be growing. However, again, we have been busy “putting down roots” so to speak. There has not been time for true exploration beyond our meager boundaries.

  (Please see appendix 61-79 for mapping, density, growing photos and growing season information. Further see appendix 80-89 for (mostly) anecdotal information regarding this seemingly ubiquitous fruit.)

  This fruit is edible by all the local fauna. There is documentation aplenty both visual, digital, and through fecal examination.

  However, there is no mode of preparation thus found that will allow terran species to consume it.

  No one has perished, since it is everywhere, it was one of the first potential food sources that we examined. There is a compound that is poisonous to us, but seems to pass right through the Perelandran animals, like a package that was left unopened. There is something in their chemical makeup, particularly in the makeup of their gut that allows “this package” to stay closed and for them to derive sustenance from the meat of the Solanaceae.

  As for how they accomplish this miracle, we, to date, have no clue.

  All one can advise at this time is to avoid ingestion. Contact seems to present no problems, which is lucky indeed, as avoiding contact with this plant would involve, denuding by fire great tracts of land, which we are, of course loathe to do in light of our Terran experiences.

  How strange and terrible that the most prolific food source on the planet is so far most definitely beyond our reach.

  Bundleberries

  Additional notes provided by J Wannamaker: (When I was growing up on Earth 1, my father told me an aphorism that he said had been passed down from his father and from his and so on. It was no doubt intended to be clever, even funny. It goes: ‘Blackberries are red when they’re green.’)

  While no one for generations has seem any food that is not hydroponically grown, I can discern (as I hope you can as well) the kernel of truth in that saying.

  The saying in its relaxed, homespun way tells you that blackberries are unfit to eat if they are not black. If one spies red blackberries, they are in fact ‘green,’ and not ready to eat.

  While on Earth, this mistake would only (presumably) result in a mouthful of quite sour berries if one were to fail to follow the directive; on Perelandra and all of “Earth 2” for as much as we know, not following a very similar directive could have consequences far beyond a simple inconvenience.”

  Bundleberries grow quite prolifically on Perelandra and lie in little bundles, close to the ground, each berry up to 52 millimeters in diameter, and not unlike pictures of strawberries that we’ve all seen from the 20th century, with enslaved workers picking them so that the overlords, our great, great grandparents, could enjoy the fruits planted on the stolen lands.

  (See appendix 90 through 119 for pictures, graphs of growing stages, and the all important color renditions of the berries when they are “green” and when they are ripe.)

  It is important to examine these berries before ingestion.

  When the berry is ‘green,’ it is an appealing red overall. Special care is warranted! While handling them presents no problems that we are aware of, ingestion by man or animal can be painful, even fatal. We’ve lost one person who did not adhere to this dictum, and while she was out surveying for the colony, apparently forgot to check for the blue tinge on the underside.

  All we have is her frantic calls for help and her vids of her anxious anaphylactic injections.

  The underside of the berry, where it is in contact with the naturally very acidic soil, turns a light to medium blue, with the rest of the berry looking for all the world like an appetizing bright red. The bundleberries have an unusual ‘freshness/readiness to eat characteristic,’ that is, when the berries are blue on the underside they are fit, even delicious and nutritious to eat. However, that is a small window indeed. Perhaps as small as a couple of “Earth 2” Days.

  In a couple of days after achieving the bluish tinge, the tinge is subsumed by the overall red and is unfit to eat. And of course, they are not fit to eat before the blue tinge appears.

  If one were to eat the berries while they were in this state, severe anaphylactic reactions would occur. We believe that the more one might eat, the more severe the reaction in humans. There is no documentation of the adverse effects it may have on terrestrial livestock, though a few have died suspiciously and autopsies are pending.

  (For more, please refer back to this report which will be appended as more information becomes available.)

  As for Lara Potemkin, she was given a posthumous partial credit on this report as it was her death that taught us a great deal about the ‘freshness/viability’ cycle of a potential local food source. Ironic, that our lead nutritionist was the first to succumb to poisonous foodstuffs. This points out the need to follow directives and avoid the hubris that breeds casual practices. We are not welcome here. Not yet.

  However, local foods must be embraced if we are to survive here long term. Oh certainly, there will be the occasional shipment of colonists, which will of course also include livestock and some foodstuffs. However, the supply of MREs will not, and can not be inexhaustible. The Earth is crumbling. That is why we are here, as the vanguard of the quest to find a new place for the teeming millions to live; a place that with our better, cleaner technologies will not sully the new Home as badly or as quickly as we did the old one.

  We can only hope.

  Perelandra’s Bounty is an introduction to another upcoming book of short stories. This book will focus s
olely upon the 182 human “settlers” on a new exo-planet. It will focus on their trials and their experiences. There will be no monsters, or super villians… Only the mundane, day-to-day normalcy— if you can call it that while colonizing a new World. Because, sometimes, the mundane will transform and surprise you.

  “Perelandra’s Bounty”…watch for it.

  Excerpt- from an upcoming three book series. The First is called “Stairway To Hell”, coming soon.

  There will be five stories total, starring Ansel Mulligan, Prefect of Mars.

  Chapter 7

  MATH, FORCE AND VELOCITY lll

  I

  walked the crowded pedways. As I walked, I slowly noticed that I had comp’ny. In my rearviews I saw a lurker; a follower…Following m’self and creating a danger…

  Glosser’s decs…?

  I…Felt my teethbuds grind.

  I slowly increased my stride and looked for an indent where I

  might lie in wait for this Glosser employee; this feckstick following… Eventually, I found a likey waitspot and did’so… It didn’t take long…

  I kicked at the side of his knee as he passed my hideyhole, and swatted the back of his head with my baton cradled in my arm, making it an arm-long cudgel.

  He went down. Hard. That knee’s is going to need attention before he walks anywhere. I was gratified to notice it veer off at an unusual angle.

  He shouted in pain and then moaned clutching his leg.

  I repositioned, standing on the balls of my feet, then leveling my gun at him. “Move and I shoot. Understand?”

  The dek nodded, sweat beading up on his high, scuffed forehead, his buzzcut hair standing up moreso than usuayalike, I’m guessed.

  He moaned in pain and held his bustified knee.

  “You fecking bukkadub! You broke my leg!”

  “What I did was knock your knee out of its socket. If you’re lucky, the damage won’t be perm-like.”

  He panted, realization dawning.