Stellar Cloud: A short story collection

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Stellar Cloud: A short story collection Page 2

by Charity Bradford


  The lesson ended and the breeze stopped. Blue sky darkened to black metal bulkheads. With the ambient noise gone, he could hear the hum of the starship’s engines. The other students chatted as they left, but Gareth stayed and wished for a real sky over his head.

  He yearned for blue.

  2486 AE—Three years until Earth flyby

  “Alright boys, today you start the last part of training.” Chaperone Higgins smiled and waved his hand toward the Mesmerizer room.

  Gareth walked in and surveyed the new layout. Ten high backed chairs sat in a circle facing the outer walls. Each had a head shaped hood on a maneuverable arm, straps and wires fitted along the length of the chair and blinking lights enough to light the room. His best friend Jimzy stood to his right, shaking.

  “I’ve heard about this,” Jimzy whispered.

  “From who?”

  “Old man Parker. He said it’s their way of torturing us.”

  “Why would they torture us?” Gareth glanced at his friend.

  Chaperone Higgins booming voice demanded his attention. “Everyone take a seat. The technicians will show you how to strap in. Get ready for the ride of your lives boys.”

  Gareth took a seat and waited his turn.

  The technician attached several nodes along his forehead and then lowered the hood. He wrapped the straps around his chest, stomach, and legs.

  “Hold still please, this is the delicate bit.” The technician pulled a belt between Gareth’s legs and clipped the straps to the band around his waist so that a metal cup covered his groin. “There you go. Just watch the video clips and don’t worry about the beeping noises. The sensations might be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll quickly get used to it.”

  The lights dimmed and the wall in front of him flickered. Princess Amelia stood on a platform beside her mother and father waving to the crowd. Gareth jerked. A dull electrical current hummed through his body as the camera zoomed in on the Princess. He calmed down when it didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt good.

  The video continued to show the Princess in various places, and each time the camera focused on her the electricity gathered behind the cup. Gareth found it pleasant at first, but as the video continued, the pressure grew stronger. His breathing sped up and his lower region ached. The electrical pulses were too intense. He was going to explode.

  Gareth bit down on his tongue and remained quiet as the others cried out. The release left him weak and sticky. He sagged in his seat and closed his eyes.

  Blue floated behind his lids. The sky and the Princesses’ eyes.

  Electrifying blue.

  Gareth sought out Parker a few days later. The old man rarely left his room on the senior level of the ship since his sight had failed him. Parker was pleasant though and loved the company. Perhaps that’s why he talked so freely about the things no one else would.

  “Jimzy said you told him it was torture. He’s mad at you now because it wasn’t.” Gareth sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the old man’s chair.

  “He would be. He doesn’t think.” Parker grunted and shifted his weight around. “What do you think?”

  Well,” Gareth squirmed.

  “Forget about the moment boy. Look to your future. How many women are on this ship?”

  “None.”

  “That’s right. They’re conditioning you to associate that feeling with the Princess, just like every other flyby generation. You’ll want to feel like that for the rest of your life, but once we flyby you won’t have access to the Mesmerizer. No more vids of her face, no more conditioning exercises.”

  “So if I don’t get chosen to go down—”

  “Torture.” He paused. “For the rest of your life.”

  “We’ll never feel that again?”

  “Oh, you’ll feel that way, but it’s never the same. None of it matters because there’s nothing you can do to change it. Your brain will be programmed by then, and nothing you do will ever be enough. Now, what are you going to do to make sure you’re chosen?”

  Gareth thought of blue eyes and blue skies.

  “Anything it takes.”

  “There’s something else you should consider. When the ship returns it will carry men that have been through the same conditioning you are now experiencing. You’ll need to be prepared for them.”

  2489 AE—Earth flyby

  With flyby a week away, the earth glowed like a bloated star in the night sky, the shadow of her moon drifting across her surface. In a few more days the moon would become visible and the earth would change into the blue and white marble of their dreams.

  Gareth and the flyby generation stood outside the Captain’s office. One by one they entered for their final interview. Jimzy stood and walked into the office. After twenty minutes it was Gareth’s turn. For once he wished he could talk to his friend before the test. What would the Captain ask? How could Gareth convince him that he had to be the one?

  “You’re number three, designated Gareth?” The Captain lounged in his chair, the gas giant Jupiter swirling behind him in the viewport.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Do you know what Gareth means?” The Captain leaned forward and studied the man before him.

  “No, Sir.” Gareth didn’t break eye contact.

  “It means ‘gentle’. Your record shows you to be obedient and quiet. What makes you think you could survive on the earth’s surface?”

  Gareth pondered all the things he could have said. All the things he should have said. He thought about the Princess and felt the rise, but he blocked the thoughts by thinking of the sky. That rich blue wonder that stretched forever.

  Gareth looked into an older version of himself and said, “Sir, just once I want to look up and see real blue. To know I’m not stuffed in a can waiting for death. If I had to take out the other nine I would. Then I’d be your only choice.”

  A slow smile spread across the Captain’s face.

  “Think you could?”

  Gareth nodded once. “If you made me, yes. I’d regret it, but I hear that might be a blessing for them as opposed to living the rest of their lives on board the Destiny.”

  The Captain’s eyes grew hard before he sighed and relaxed. “It might at that, but no. I won’t require you to kill your classmates. What about the Princess?”

  “She would be a bonus, Sir, but I’m not doing it for her. I’m not even sure I believe she exists.”

  “Me either, son. Me either. Let me tell you a secret. The earth has been habitable for at least the last two hundred years. All sensors have confirmed it, but each Captain has been too afraid to stop this incessant space traveling. I’m sick of it. ” The Captain stood and unlocked a cabinet.

  He pulled out a small brown box and set it on the desk. Inside lay a rolled up piece of paper, yellowed and brittle with age.

  “This is the location of the Princess’ cryo-chamber. If she’s real, this is where you’ll find her.” He then handed Gareth a four by four sheet of plexiglass. “I can’t give you the original, but it’s been scanned into this data strip.”

  It was thin enough that it retained flexibility. Gareth could roll it up if he wanted to. The Captain pressed his thumb into the lower right corner and it lit up. The sheet was now a computer screen.

  “All you have to do is touch the files to read them. Our prints are the same so it will work for you.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Gareth couldn’t believe his luck.

  “I want you to end this madness. Make it so we can all enjoy your blue sky.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Oh, and one more thing. I wouldn’t tell anyone I’ve chosen you until I announce it a few hours before departure.”

  “Hey, Gareth, lucky stiff. If you find her, give her a kiss for me.” Jimzy punched Gareth’s shoulder.

  “No way man.” He watched his friend walk away and continued packing.

  Gareth turned twenty today, same as the rest of his class. At noon he would board the shuttle
and descend to the planet’s surface. His bag held the map, the computer files, rations for four days and a communications uplink in case he succeeded. If he failed, the ship would continue its loop to the edge of the solar system before turning back. He would be left behind.

  Gareth slipped the packets of genetically altered seeds into the bag before zipping it up. Technically, he stole them from the greenhouse deck, but he knew he had a better chance of survival with them. Now all he had to do was to wait until time to leave Destiny.

  The sky was bluer than the Mesmerizer.

  Gareth trembled under its expanse. No walls. No walls anywhere.

  His heart beat erratically as he tried to catch his breath. The light was so bright and the air full of new smells. Training told him it was wildflowers and the smell of wood warming in the sunlight, but he didn’t know which smell belonged to which thing. He could live a lifetime finding out. There was so much to explore. So much to learn. If only he could get past how small he felt.

  A hiss of air drew his attention. The shuttle door closed and the autopilot started the return sequence to the Destiny.

  Gareth picked up his bag and forced his feet to move toward the crude shelter that had been built at the landing site. The walls crumbled beneath the green vines that covered it, barely holding up the ceiling. It didn’t look safe, but he needed the sensation of walls for just a moment. When his heart had calmed he steeled himself and stepped out again to build a better shelter.

  Gareth spent two days building a lean-to and then scraping a place in the dirt to plant his seeds.

  Now he had a choice. Find the Princess, or prove the planet was habitable without her. Of course, it would be a short-lived human race without at least one woman.

  When the tiny shoots popped up after a few hours, he was tempted to settle in for the long haul. However, he saw Amelia’s eyes every time he blinked. The last fourteen years had been filled with videos of her. He knew every fluid movement ever recorded of her by heart. The sound of her laughter haunted his dreams. And each thought brought the swelling desire.

  With a sigh, Gareth picked up the data sheet and pulled up the map.

  If I can have blue eyes with the sky, it could be quite the life.

  It took two more days to reach the Princess. Concrete and steel. That’s what the history vids called the building material that sheltered her. He hacked at the vines covering the structure until he found the door. Gareth blew the dust off the keypad and punched in the code the Captain had attached to the map. As the door hissed open, cold air rushed past him. Inside smelled like the ship—recycled air but without the sweat.

  Two sets of lights, pulsed red to white, leading to another door. Gareth opened that door and found a standard cryogenic suite. Computers monitored the sleeper’s vital signs, but when he looked into the glass window of the coffin-like chamber, he found it empty.

  “Turn around slowly.”

  Gareth recognized the voice and a tremor of anticipation ran through his body. He turned to face Princess Amelia. She stood in the shadow behind the open door, but he could clearly see the phase disruptor pointed at his chest.

  “Are you the only trap?” He inquired.

  “There are no traps, just a test. I wake every seventy-five years and wait for the next candidate. I’m tired of this game, so let’s get this over with so I can go back to sleep.”

  “Optimistic, I like that. Did you kill the others?” Gareth put the cryo-chamber between him and the Princess and leaned against it in an effort to look calm. To hide his need.

  “They didn’t pass the test. To live all you have to do is answer the question to my liking. Why are you here?” She stepped forward until she was outlined in the halo of light from the ceiling.

  The Princess was older than the vids. Closer to thirty than twenty, but her beauty was still vibrant. She had cut her hair short, the tips of the front coming to a point at her chin. The blue eyes had lost the innocent wideness to be replaced by hard determination.

  Gareth chuckled under his breath and shook his head. In spite of the age difference, her appearance sent fire running through his veins. He shook with the effort to stand still when all he wanted was to reach out and touch her. Closing his eyes he breathed deeply and thought of blue skies until his heart rate calmed. When he opened them again, Amelia was staring at him.

  “Have you forgotten why you’re here?”

  “You know why I’m here. They brainwash us boys until we’re in love with you, and then they send us down one at a time. Why? That’s what I want to know. If you’re going to kill me at least tell me what the point was because all I really wanted was blue skies over my head.” He looked up at the ceiling and waited.

  “So, you don’t want to ravage me?”

  “Princess, they make sure every one of us want you. Classic Pavlovian conditioning, but if that’s not the answer you want, I’d like to leave rather than die.”

  “What would you do if I let you leave?”

  “Try to survive. I planted a garden, there’s plenty of water, and enough sky to satisfy me.”

  “A garden? They gave you seeds?” Her eyes rounded with surprise.

  “Um, not exactly.”

  “You stole them? Why would you do that?”

  Gareth considered his options. She would shoot him or she wouldn’t. On the off chance she let him live, no one would be back for seventy-five years. He had nothing to lose, so he stuck with the truth.

  “I wanted a choice. With crops growing I didn’t have to come looking for you.”

  “And yet you’re here.” Her brows arched upward, and the hand holding the gun lowered to her side.

  “They’re pretty good at brainwashing.” Gareth smiled.

  “We’ll have to put an end to that first thing.” She holstered the gun and took a step closer. “This isn’t going to be easy you know.”

  “Nothing worth it ever is.”

  Chapter Three

  Continuation

  Originally Published on Apollo’s Lyre, April 2012. Revisions have been made for this publication.

  The computer voice cut the silence. “Visitor approaching.”

  My heart quickened. I had not had visitors for six months. Not since Harold received his invitation. My knees popped as I hobbled to the door.

  “Who is it?” My voice shook almost as much as my wrinkled hands.

  “Department of Continuation,” a deep male voice came through the door.

  I inhaled and choked on my own spit. This was it, the moment I had dreaded and hoped for.

  My hands smoothed my shirt over my plump waist before pressing the door release. A man in his late twenties stood before me, dressed in the one-piece light blue jumper of the DOC.

  “Mrs. Jonas? Your name was submitted as a Continuation candidate. After careful consideration, the committee has approved your invitation.” He held an envelope out to me.

  My fingers trembled. Can I do this?

  “Thank you. Can I ask who submitted my name?” I spoke softly, but steadily.

  “The nominator asked to remain anonymous for the time being. This is the standard forty-eight-hour invitation, or I can escort you to processing now.” He turned and indicated the hovercar behind him.

  “Give me a minute.” I opened the envelope and read the single sheet of paper inside.

  Linda Jonas,

  Your dedication to free religious thought has qualified you for Continuation. Your knowledge and thought processes will be an asset to future generations.

  Thoughtfully,

  Gregory Finch, Department of Continuation

  Same as Harold.

  I laughed, folded the paper, and tossed the envelope to the floor. Who knew that years of protesting Continuation would earn us the right to have our electrical impulses added to the human supercomputer? We had believed the process that uploaded thoughts and intelligence dehumanized the individual. How could one return to the presence of God when their cognitive energies were saved
and routed through a mainframe computer?

  Harold turned down his invitation and the Department granted him early release. For six months I struggled with how release differed from suicide. He was dead all the same. Our colleagues didn't see a difference, and I became the outcast of the group. In the end, it was the loneliness did me in.

  “All right, let’s go.” I stepped out and closed the door.

  “I’m glad you chose Continuation. The committee thought you might turn us down, like Mr. Jonas.”

  “Maybe I’m just tired of being old. This has to be better than suicide. Right?”

  The young man nodded and opened the hovercar door for me.

  An hour later I stood naked, electrical nodes dotting my sagging flesh, in front of a Continuation chamber with my name taped to it. The female technician opened the door to the glass coffin and held the hundreds of wires attached to my body as I stepped inside.

  “There’s no need to worry. The process is painless. I’ll just plug you in.” She separated the bundles of wires and pushed them into the side of the casing one by one. Small lights came on as she worked.

  “You’ll feel a slight tingling as the current moves through your body.”

  And I did. The electrical pulse moved under my skin like a soft caress, stimulating and numbing all at once.

  “Where are the other chambers?” I looked through the glass but couldn’t see any other cases.

  “They’re all around you. We’ve found they create unnecessary anxiety during the initial stages, so we camouflage them with hologram technology. They’ll become visible after we start.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re set.” She smiled and closed the door.

  The hiss of the hermetic seal sent a shiver down my spine. My breathing grew quick and shallow while my pulse increased. Another hiss and water flowed into the chamber, gliding down the inside of the glass to pool at my feet. Goosebumps rose on my legs and arms as the icy liquid covered my toes, then my ankles. I shivered as the water inched upward.

 

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