Escape Velocity: The Anthology

by Unknown

  The condemned cell was just like any other. Once inside Frank’s demeanor changed. He was again my little brother.

  “Here, quick, start shaving and get into this uniform,” he said as he rummaged under the bench, handing me the required equipment to accomplish such a thing. “I’ll drag out our dead friend.”

  “What, he’s not under the bench as well?”

  “Where else would he be?”

  “I don’t believe this,” I said, climbing as quickly as I could into the prison guard’s uniform. “How long has he been in here?”

  “Long enough to defrost the right amount,” Frank said in an off-handed manner. He looked as nervous as I was. “Quick, Michael, we don’t have much time. Get on with it.”

  Frank then produced the body. It was the most hideous thing I had ever seen in my life. He was blue for a start. How were we supposed to pass him off as a living, breathing person I will never know.

  I finished shaving, and I must admit it took at least ten years off me. I suppose that was Frank’s plan all along. I could see that having any resemblance to Ned would certainly be hazardous right about now. Frank had dressed Ned in my old prison outfit. It all seemed to be complete; all that was except that Ned could not walk, talk, or react.

  “Now, shackle yourself up,” Frank said in his best authoritative voice.

  “Damn, I just got out of those damn shackles. I’m not getting back into them.”

  “How else is Ned going to walk if we don’t support him?”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes. Now quickly.”

  Just as we had finished securing ourselves to Ned the door to the condemned cell opened. It was time.

  We walked Ned to the gallows. Ever so slowly, but we got there. Frank’s plan to secure Ned to us worked perfectly. We had control of his hands and feet; and I must admit, he had defrosted just enough so that his body was not too stiff and unmanageable. I shuddered at the thought of all this. It was macabre to say the least.

  I noticed Frank seemed to be enjoying himself. He even managed to smile in my direction from what I could make out from the corner of my eye. I simply did not have the courage to look in his direction, for I was afraid that I might see Ned do something he was not supposed to; like have a limb fall from his body for example. That would be all we would need right now.

  Frank, in his wisdom had even placed the executioner’s hood over Ned, just in case people got suspicious. Even though Ned’s head hung down almost to his chest, no one questioned it. The charade seemed to be complete. There was only one thing that remained. How was it that Ned was going to talk?

  Just after 10:00 a.m. on November the 11th, Ned was strung to the gallows. The hangman adjusted his hood. It was then that I noticed Frank discretely pull from his pocket the iPod with the speakers that I had bought for him at Christmas last year.

  My God ... he had recorded the line Ned was going to speak. He was actually going to play a pre-recorded voice, and right before all these people, too. What a beautiful, fantastic, brilliant idea. I smiled. Frank had kept his promise.

  At four minutes past ten the executioner pulled the lever, Ned had said his piece, and — well, the rest is history as they say. I hope that the time-line was all right. I had a sneaking suspicion that it was; besides, Frank’s ideas always worked out.

  Frank led me away from the Old Melbourne Gaol; we had been given the rest of the day off by our commanding officer. Something about witnessing such an event. He was right: it was ghastly.

  “Say, how do we get back?”

  “Simple,” Frank smiled, “we push the green button again.” From his pocket, he produced a small black box. On it there was a green button marked ‘return’, below that was a red button.

  “Keeping it simple I see.”

  “Of course, human-friendly technology is the only way to go. What did you expect, a Star Trek tricorder?” Frank smiled with a cheeky grin. “I’ll give you the honors, just hold onto me.”

  I pressed the green button. Once more, the holo-screen appeared before my eyes. The dates on the screen, fortunately, moved in the right direction – towards the future.

  When March 15th 2005 came up, the screen blinked orange. Frank pressed the red button. Instantly we were back in his house. I had never been so happy to see it.

  “Ah, there we are, just in time for breakfast, too.”

  I glanced at the clock on his study wall. It was seven in the morning, and I had to admit, I was rather hungry.

  “So, where to next?” I said. I think I surprised him with that remark.

  “I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me, remember. I’m a know-it-all smarty pants, or some such thing.”

  “I changed my mind... I think, I think — damn, you think this would be easy —”

  “You don’t have to say it, Michael,” Frank said with a wave of his hand.

  “No. No, I have to. I want to be with you... You’re my brother... and — well, I’ve learned a hell of a lot about us lately... I am proud of you, Frank.”

  Frank just smiled. “It was rather cool, traveling in time, wasn’t it?”

  “Besides, if I don’t come with you, who’s going to save your hide?”

  “Very funny.”

  “I suppose the present I got you for your birthday will be rather useless now,” I said.

  “Oh, what was it?”

  “A Dr. Who DVD.”

  “Old or new series?”

  “Old, of course,” I added. “But seeing as you are a time traveler I thought it would be rather useless.”

  “Which Doctor?” Frank smiled. Obviously pleased.

  “Tom Baker, naturally,” I smiled. “Who else is there?”

  “Cool. We’ll watch it right now. Then I fancy a trip to ancient Egypt.”

  “I’m so there...but this time I think you can be the stand-in if anything goes wrong,” I laughed.

  “Deal.”

  A Handful of Stars

  Mark Iles

  “He’s a quiet lad,” Doctor Marcus whispered, as he opened the door to the room. “I think he’s been through a lot, not that he’s said much to anyone since the police bought him back again but he asked for you by name. I hope you don’t mind me giving you a call.”

  “That’s what social services are for, “Miranda replied, as they entered the interview room. A small ginger-haired boy sat at a desk, as if waiting for them. He looked up and smiled a greeting.

  “Miranda,” Connor said, “it’s about time you got here. Please tell them to let me go.”

  “I can’t Connor,” she replied. “You’re too young to be out on the streets on your own and you keep getting into trouble. Burglary’s no life for a child.”

  “I was hungry. I only wanted something to eat.”

  “Still not remember much about your family?” she asked, sitting in the other chair facing him and pulling it up to the table; watching his blue eyes carefully for any clues as to whether he was hiding something. God, she thought, that’s a lot of freckles.

  “I’ve told you before; we’re not from around here.” He paused and seemed to consider her for a moment. “You don’t like ginger kids, do you? You said everyone ginger should all be taken out and shot before they breed.”

  Miranda blanched. “How on earth did you know that? It was just a joke, Connor, nothing more. I like all kids.”

  “You said it earlier today and you don’t like all kids at all; some of them you really dislike.”

  “What, are you reading my mind or something? Look, you must be hungry; how about Doctor Marcus here rustling you up some grub?”

  Marcus’s astonished gaze shifted from Miranda and he smiled at Connor’s eager nod. “It’ll only be toast, I’m afraid. Bit late for anything else. You two have a good chat and I’ll be back in a minute or two. Don’t go away...”

  As the door shut behind him Connor said, “That last comment was aimed at me.”

  “Of course it was, but he was only joking. Relax. But
you do keep running away, after all. Why do you do that, Connor? This is a good place. It’s warm, comfortable and there are other children of your own age to play with here.”

  “I want to find my family,” he replied, looking right into her eyes, tears gathering at the corners. “But I’m afraid. I don’t want to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Out there, to where they are. It’s a big jump and I’m scared.”

  “What are you scared of?”

  He leant closer and glanced at the closed door behind her, saying softly, “I don’t want to stay here, I hate it. But I’m scared to follow them. What if I miss?”

  Miranda simply looked at him. “I’m confused, Connor, what do you mean ‘miss’?”

  His bottom lip trembled and the tears finally tripped down his face. “I don’t want to go after them, I’m scared! I’m not like you and these other people. I came here rather than follow my family because if I did I could miss and end up alone and lost.”

  “You’re alone and lost now though, aren’t you? So, do you know where your family are?”

  “Out there.”

  Exasperated, Miranda bit back her temper. “Out where?”

  Connor looked at her and grinned through the tear tracks, wiping some away with the back of his hand. “You’re angry now. You just want to be at home with your boyfriend, watching that new TV series you’ve been waiting for. The first one’s on tonight and he’s going to record it, so that you can watch it together when you get home. He’s going to make you a Chinese meal. All you have to do is call him when you leave here and he’ll start cooking, so that it’s ready for when you get home.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know all that! What’s going on here? Has someone put you up to this? No, I’m not angry, Connor, but I want to know what’s happening.”

  “You asked if I can read minds. Isn’t it obvious? That sort of thing runs in my family. For instance I know you hate your car and want to buy a new one but can’t afford it. I know that you love your boyfriend but it’s a new relationship and you’re scared to tell him that yet. You were embarrassed earlier because you had sex in the front room when you got home from work and the window was open, so you heard the neighbours laughing at the noise you made.”

  He leant forward, his blue eyes locking onto hers, ignoring her reddening face, until his nose was inches from her. “I told you, I’m not like all of you. Yes, I can read minds and, no, I don’t come from here. I need to follow my family. They moved and I was supposed to follow them but I was too scared.”

  Gathering her thoughts, Miranda said, “Okay, I believe you. So where did your family go?”

  “Here,” Connor replied, leaning back. He held out a fist, palm up, and opened his hand. The lights in the room faded then went out. It was as dark in the room as it was in the night outside the window.

  The breath caught in Miranda’s throat and her eyes widened as his hand started to glow with a faint opalescence. Stars and galaxies appeared and glowed faintly in the pale of his hand. Nebulae shone with a stunning variety of colours. She couldn’t speak for a moment, could only stare into the field of stars in his hand before finally uttering, “What...?” Her eyes were drawn into that gulf and she found her consciousness drifting through the clouds of stars. It seemed like an eternity before Connor’s voice snapped her back to reality and she sat there, stunned, simply looking at him.

  “We migrate, you see, we don’t need ships like you do. We’re beyond that now and just simply wish ourselves somewhere and then go. But if we miss our target we can become lost. It was my first time and when my family jumped I was left behind. I was meant to follow but I just couldn’t. Some of us never make the jump and end up being left behind. So I jumped through time instead and found myself here. I miss them.”

  Miranda found herself imagining a fledgling bird, desperate to flee the nest, balanced on the side of its home staring down at the gulf below and being terribly afraid. Miranda bit back her rising tide of emotion as she finally understood. “Have faith in yourself, Connor. Go after them. Jump, just try it. If you don’t you’ll never know, will you?”

  “I can hear them, you know. They’re calling me.” Connor’s blue eyes were locked onto the myriad stars in his hand. “Their voices are echoing in my mind. My sisters and brothers are out there, begging me to come and play with them.”

  A loud banging on the door made them both jump.

  “Miranda, are you all right?” Doctor Marcus shouted and then banged the door again. “The door’s stuck, I can’t open it.”

  Miranda looked at Connor as he stared back down into his hand. She reached out and stroked his face, then said, “Hang on a moment, Doctor, I’m just coming. Connor,” she whispered. “Have faith in yourself and fly.”

  She pushed back her chair and stood up, then strode over to the door. Not surprised that it opened easily for her she stood back, so that Marcus could see the boy behind her still sat down on his chair staring at his hand. Then she ushered him back out and stood with him out in the corridor.

  “What happened to the lights?” she asked, then pointedly eyed his empty hands, “and the toast, come to that.”

  “Power cut I guess. That’s bizarre; I’d swear Connor’s hand was glowing. Is he all right?” He made to push past her but stopped as the lights came back on.

  Miranda took a deep breath. “Let’s go and ask him, shall we?” She turned and opened the door and they entered the room together, only to find it empty. Connor’s chair was still pulled up close to the table.

  “He’s gone!” Marcus gasped, glancing about the room in disbelief. “But he was there, I saw him! Where on earth can he have gone? The windows are still shut and this is the only way out.”

  “I think he’s gone to find his family,” Miranda replied softly, running her fingers along the back of his chair. “I hope for his sake that he does, I really do.” She ignored Marcus’s puzzled look and said, “There’s nothing further that I can do here Doctor, you’d better give the police another call and tell them he’s escaped again. I’ve a Chinese meal and a television programme waiting for me at home. Not to mention a boyfriend to curl up on the sofa with.”

  Outside, she took out her car keys and unlocked her red Vauxhall Astra. She paused, looked up at the night sky and the stars strewn there, and wished Connor well.

  The Oceans of Mars

  William C. McCall

  Kel, in the pilot’s seat of his spacecraft, stretched, arched his back and exclaimed to Helle, “It’s hard to believe we’re on our way home.”

  “Not so hard for me,” she said. “It’s about the hundredth time you’re said it.”

  “Two hundred,” Unn offered.

  “Help me, Nah. The women are getting feisty.”

  “I’m on their side,” Nah answered.

  An easy silence followed. Then, glancing at the star chart display, Kel said, “Here’s a planet I’d like to see again and . . .”

  “Nooo,” came three voices in unison.

  “I checked it out long ago and I’d like to see how it’s developing.”

  “We’re hardly in a position to say no,” Unn said.

  “Good reasoning,” Kel said with a laugh. “We’re dropping in for a visit.”

  Parking their mother ship in orbit, they climbed into a sleek smaller craft. Descending in a graceful arc over a range of jagged peaks they cruised over the Mediterranean Sea. As they reached its eastern shore a burst of energy accompanied by flash of light hit their craft, forcing it to the ground.

  Earth was not a forbidden planet and not known to be a war zone. Kel slid the transparent canopy back and, followed by Helle, stepped out onto arid ground. Unn and Nah, his hand resting on a laser pistol, remained in the craft. Above them hovered a spacecraft with insignia which Kel recognized as a military vehicle of his own federation. Greatly relieved, he muttered, “What’s going on?” Helle, as brave a companion as any man could have, merely shrugged.

  The militar
y craft settled to the ground a short distance away. Ulffr and Halldor, in full military uniform, got out with guns drawn, cautiously stepped forward then exclaimed, “Kel. Helle. Unbelievable.”

  Helle warmly embraced them. Seeing this, Nah and Unn quickly joined them. After handshakes all around, “Kel said, “You two are the last people I’d expect to see here. And what dimwit colonel allowed you two rogues to work together?”

  “That’s hardly a joke anymore,” Halldor replied.

  “Then how about some explanations?” Kel said.

  “You first, Kel,” Ulffr said.

  “Simple. We were sent to gather intelligence on rim star civilizations.”

  “Then why in God’s name are you here?”

  “I was here long ago. We’re heading home and just happened on it so I thought I’d check it out. How about you?”

  “How long have you been gone?” Ulffr asked.

  “Close to a hundred years.”

  “Well,” said Ulffr, with a dour countenance, “a lot’s happened in that time.”

  “Like what?” Helle asked.

  “We’re no longer a democracy.”

  “What now?” Kel asked.

  “A military dictatorship.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Impossible!” Unn exclaimed.

  “Not impossible,” Halldor added.

  “Who’s running the show?” Nah asked.

  “Colonel Stazzi,” Halldor said.

  “My god,” Helle said with a look of dismay.

  “How tough are they?” Nah asked.

  “Brutal,” Ulffr replied. “Ruthless.”

  “A coup, I suppose?” Kel said.

  “They were voted in.”

  Ulffr began to explain how it occurred but Halldor cut him off. “Ulffr will give you a long story. I’ll make it short.”

  Halldor’s explanation was rambling. One of the Confederation’s outposts was attacked. Who had attacked was questionable, but Colonel Stazzi insisted it was the Cyprians, and demanded they be punished. While the government debated, Stazzi and his followers beat the war drums. A government crisis ensued followed by a seemingly fair election. Stazzi won and immediately declared war on the Cyprian Confederation. Anyone who wasn’t in favor of the war was accused of treason. Journalists and judges were intimidated. Then came censorship followed by campaigns to ferret out Cyprian sympathizers. The courts, under control of the government soon rendered the Constitution meaningless.