by Maggie Allen
Anna’s eyes watered, but she closed the door. Couldn’t a girl have any privacy in this house? If she really was telepathic, she would have known Anna was coming before she opened the door. She could still smell the onions her mother was chopping, but it wasn’t telepathy. They were just strong onions.
Maybe she could walk through walls? Maybe she could walk right into Anna’s room! That would show her little sister. Marisol closed her eyes again and imagined herself becoming gaseous and intangible. When she felt as airy as possible, she stepped forward, once, twice, and then smacked into the sink. “Ow.” OK, she couldn’t walk through walls.
An hour later Marisol was back in her room, lying on her bed. She had been through all the superpowers she’d ever heard of, as well as a few she’d made up. (She was pretty sure no one had the power to make the captain of the boys’ track team come when she called.) She didn’t have anything to show for it except a bruised nose and messed-up hair. What was the point of being a mutant if all it did was get you kicked off the team?
Her mother knocked on the open door. She was dressed in her scrubs. “The hospital called. They need someone for the night shift. I put a casserole in the fridge for dinner.”
“OK, casserole in the fridge. Got it.”
Her mother walked in and sat down on the bed next to Marisol. “How are you feeling, mijita? Are you going to be OK?”
Marisol thought about it before answering. How was she feeling? “I’m OK, I guess. The girls at school were nicer than I thought. Only, I don’t know. I just feel… really sort of blah. I’m bored, but I don’t know what I want to do.”
“Why don’t you go for a run?”
“Mama.” She stretched the word out so it expressed her annoyance.
“Why not? I don’t think you’ve been running since the meet.”
“I only ran to train for the heptathlon. Now I can’t compete in that, either.”
Her mother gave her a quizzical look. “Did you only run to train for the competition? I thought you sort of liked it.”
“It’s depressing practicing for an event they won’t let me compete in.”
“All right then. Just a thought.” Her mother wrapped an arm around her. “I know it seems horrible now, but you’ll get through this, just like your grandfather did. It’s a speed bump, not a dead end. If you need anything, you’ll let me know, right?”
Marisol tried to fake a smile. “OK, Mama.”
“Good night, mijita. I’ll see you in the morning.” She kissed Marisol on the cheek.
After her mother left, Marisol thought about what she’d said. Mothers. She knew nothing. Nothing! So some old relatives back in Mexico a hundred years ago had the gene. What difference did that make to her now?
On the other hand, Marisol did feel really keyed up. She’d been lying in bed or sitting down for two days straight now. Maybe a quick jog would clear her head. Just an easy run up the street and back. She didn’t even need to keep time. Not like she was in training for anything, and she was already wearing her track clothes.
Marisol slipped out the front door. The night was hot, but not too hot to run. The full moon was out, so there’d be enough light if she wanted to go up into the park. She didn’t need to stick to the lit streets.
She walked out to the street and then started loping easily down her block. A coyote howled somewhere in the hills above her. Another answered from somewhere closer by. She’d like that, to be a coyote, free to run and play and hunt. Maybe that could be her mutant power, running with the coyotes. If she couldn’t be on the track team, she could join a coyote pack. Nobody bothered coyotes with blood tests and stupid rules.
As she turned off the street into the park, she thought maybe she should try calling to the coyotes. She felt a little silly, so her first effort was a thin noise, barely more than a whisper. A coyote would have to have super-hearing to pick that up. What the hell. There wasn’t anyone out here to see her. She mustered up her courage, pumped out a burst of speed and really let loose. Oh-woo-woo! Nothing responded. Any coyotes out there must be laughing at her. OK, she wasn’t Coyote Girl then.
Whatever. She was done worrying about what her power might be. If it came, it came. If not, she could still run. It was actually sort of freeing just running to run, not bothering with the training schedule Coach Abrams had set up for her. She didn’t need to worry about peaking early or how much time her muscles needed to recover before the next meet.
The measured route ended at the far parking lot, but tonight she still had energy left, so she picked up the pace and headed up the dirt trail that led into the hills.
Marisol was breathing hard and covered in sweat when she finally left the park and turned back onto her street. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been running, but she’d gone farther than she was used to. She was exhausted, but it was a good exhaustion, the sort that lets you stop thinking and just be. She’d sleep well tonight.
Marisol had just reached her block when she heard a scream. Anna! Forgetting how tired she was, Marisol sprinted. She covered the last half block fast enough to qualify for the Olympics. Then Anna screamed again. She was behind the house!
Marisol tore up the driveway, but when she hit the backyard she pulled up short. The flood light from the carport illuminated the scene. Anna was pressed up against the shed, clutching her cat to her chest. At the edge of the circle of light, between Anna and the back door of the house, three coyotes were waiting.
Anna cried to her, “Marisol, help me.” Her voice was weak and muffled.
“Stay put, Anna. Don’t move. Don’t show any fear.” Marisol’s mind raced. What should she do? If she knew what her powers were, she could fly in and grab Anna, or blast the coyotes with energy beams or even just beat them up. But mutant gene or no, she was still only a regular teenage girl.
Instead Marisol spoke as calmly and firmly as she could. “Anna, I want you to put Gordita down. The coyotes only want the cat. If you put her down, they’ll leave you alone.”
Anna shook her head. Then she hunched down, clutching Gordita tighter to her chest. Maldita sea, that was exactly the wrong thing to do! The smaller Anna made herself look, the more likely the coyotes were to attack.
One of the coyotes howled. To her surprise, another coyote responded from down the street. Marisol’s skin grew cold. There were more of them, and they weren’t far away. If she didn’t do something fast, they were both going to be coyote dinner.
The largest of the coyotes started to walk forward slowly. The light glinted off its exposed teeth. “Hey,” Marisol shouted. “Get away from her!” The coyote stopped and looked back at her.
Marisol stepped forward, waving her arms above her head to try to look as big as she could. “Hey, you dumb dog. Go away!”
For a second it looked like the coyote might actually turn and run. Then Marisol stumbled over a big rock in the dirt. She thrust out a hand to catch herself and skinned her palm as she hit the ground.
Anna cried out again. All three coyotes were moving towards her now. Anna had closed her eyes and still hadn’t let go of the stinking cat. Anna was sixty feet away and the coyotes were between her and them. There was no way she could get to Anna in time and not much she could do if she did, unless... It was a stupid idea, but it was the only thing she could think of.
Marisol grabbed for the rock she’d tripped over. It was stuck in the ground, and she had to dig with her fingernails to pry it out of the dirt. She looked at the coyotes advancing toward Anna. Marisol had never thrown that far, not even the last put that got her kicked off the team, and she had never needed to aim like this before, either.
Marisol pulled her arms in and laid the rock against her neck. It was heavier than she was used to, and it wasn’t balanced like it should be, but it was the only weapon she had. She turned away from her sister and squatted down. She planted her right foot and kicked off with her left leg. As she swung her hips around, she pulled in her left arm and sighted on the largest coyote
. Screaming loud enough to frighten coyotes two counties away, she threw the rock.
The throw was so strong that Marisol stumbled a bit after she let the rock fly, then caught herself. As she slowed to a halt, her eyes caught up with the rock near the top of its arc. She held her breath as it picked up speed on the way down.
The rock was arcing. The coyote was trotting. She could trace the arc of the rock, see where it intersected the path of the coyote, see where it was going to hit. Que suerte. She’d done it. It was going to work.
And then, for no reason at all, the coyote stopped short.
No! The rock was going to miss. Her sister was dead. She saw the rock. She saw the coyote. She could almost see the spot in the dirt where the rock was going to hit, two meters too far. She could see where it needed to land instead.
And then, in defiance of everything her she’d learned in physics class, the rock turned in midair and continued along the new path Marisol envisioned.
The rock hit the lead coyote square in its skull. The impact made a squelchy, crunching sound, and the beast went down, dead before it hit the ground.
The other two coyotes stopped still, confused about what had happened to the alpha. Then one of them yelped, and they both turned and scurried out of the yard into the dark.
Marisol ran to her sister. “Anna! Are you OK?”
Her sister was still holding Gordita to her chest and shivering. Marisol grabbed her and clutched her like Anna was clutching the cat. “Anna, it’s OK. They’re gone now. They can’t hurt you. Come on, let’s go inside.” She nudged Anna to a standing position and held her tight as they walked back across the yard. She didn’t relax until they were safely back in the kitchen.
Once she’d made sure the door was shut and locked, both locks, she turned back to Anna. Anna was sitting at the kitchen table and squeezing Gordita like her life depended on it. The cat began to squirm until it finally extricated itself from Anna’s arms and jumped to the floor. Then it strolled off like nothing had happened. Stupid cat. She should have left it outside with the coyotes.
“Anna, what happened? Why were you in the backyard alone?” Marisol asked.
Anna recovered enough voice to protest. “Gordita was out there, alone. I had to get her.”
“Anna, that was a very dangerous thing you did. You know you’re not supposed to go out after dark, especially when Mama isn’t home. If I hadn’t come back when I did, you could have been hurt, or worse.”
“But you were there. You saved me. You’re a superhero, just like the Danger Damsels.” Anna’s cheeks were still wet and puffy, but she was smiling.
Marisol sighed. “Anna, listen to me. I’m not a superhero. I threw a rock and got lucky. That’s all. I probably couldn’t make that put again if I tried a hundred times.”
“No, you are. I saw it. You glowed.”
Marisol held her hand up and looked at it. If it had glowed, it wasn’t glowing now. She picked up the plastic salt shaker off the table and tentatively tossed it underhand at the stove while imagining it landing in front of the refrigerator. It stubbornly landed exactly where she’d aimed, smack in front of the stove. After it hit it bounced twice, more or less toward the refrigerator, spilling salt all over the floor in the process. Újule, now she’d have to clean that up, too.
Marisol put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Anna, I don’t know what happened out there. Maybe it was superpowers, and maybe it was just dumb luck, but you can’t scare me like that. If those other two coyotes hadn’t run away, I don’t know what I could have done. And if anything happened to you, I’d be devastated. You’re my sister, and I love you.”
Anna threw her arms around Marisol, and hugged her tight. “I love you too, Marisol.”
Marisol returned the hug. Maybe she had superpowers. Maybe she didn’t. She didn’t know how else to explain what had happened. Rocks didn’t turn in mid-air like that. If throwing things at track meets had taught her anything, it was that when you threw something, its course was set. It might not go where you wanted, but once it left your hand, it was going where it was going. Physics class even had a fancy name for it, Newton’s First Law. The test she’d memorized it for was months back, but she still remembered the rule: objects in motion stay in motion unless acted on by an external force.
Maybe Mr. Bloomfield could explain what had happened. She could worry about that tomorrow. For now, Anna was safe, her mother loved her, and her friends were still her friends. The rest would take care of itself.
Lunar Camp
Maggie Allen
Maggie Allen recently started writing short fiction, but from her day job at NASA she has years of experience writing and podcasting about various nonfiction topics in astronomy and astrophysics. Maggie has other short stories published in A Hero By Any Other Name, the Time Traveled Tales anthologies, Athena’s Daughters, Soothe the Savage Beast, War of the Seasons: The Heart, and Contact Light. She co-edited Athena’s Daughters, Volume 2. These titles may be found at: http://silenceinthelibrarypublishing.com. Maggie is a guitarist and singer in the rock band, “Naked Singularity,” which released its first album of original music in 2013. They are working on their second album. Her band’s website may be found at http://naked-singularity.com, and her writer website at writermaggie.blogspot.com.
10-9-8…
Bee glanced around at the other passengers, trying to judge whether any of them looked nervous.
7-6-5…
Some people closed their eyes while some looked out the window, squinting a bit at the bright Florida sunlight.
4, 3, 2, 1…
The engines roared to life. Lift off! Bee felt her body pushed into the padded seat as the Firefly-class rocket she was on thrust itself into the air. She fought the G-force that tried to glue her to her seat and managed to turn her head and watch through her window as the sky turned from bright blue to black.
She’d ridden on a rocket like this before on her first trip to Luna City, but she’d been much younger then and accompanied by her parents. Today she was on her own and on her way to Lunar Camp. Many a thirteen-year-old would have been thrilled to have the chance to spend their summer at camp on the Moon. Bee Williamson was not that person.
“The moon has no plants,” she’d grumbled to her parents. “And who’s going to take care of my garden?”
Her family lived on an Iowa farm that was lush and green and gold. Bee loved it there. Though much of the farm work was automated or operated robotically, Bee had been given a patch of her own to use as she pleased, and she loved working it herself. She’d downloaded books on old-fashioned farming and pored through screens of the latest research so she could experiment with a variety of plant-growing techniques. She had big plans for her summer, and a trip to the Moon wasn’t included in them.
“Beyoncé, you know that Lunar Camp will look good on your application to SATAS,” her mother had said.
The sound of her given name always made Bee roll her eyes. Besides, it was too soon to even think about leaving the farm to go to the Space Academy of Technical Arts and Sciences, even though it would have something to teach her about plants grown on ships or about terraforming other worlds. That was still more than she could say of Lunar Camp.
She suspected Lunar Camp had little to do with agriculture or horticulture. Most likely she’d be tromping around in lunar dust collecting rocks and tripping into craters. Rocks were something Bee routinely pitched out of her garden. She didn’t see much point in collecting them.
But all of her protests fell on deaf ears Bee was on the way to the Moon.
Luna City was a popular tourist destination because the orbital station was a commonly used transit junction for those going on to Mars or the outer solar system.
Someday Bee hoped to see more of what was out there. But for now, it seemed that all she was going to see was monochromatic dust.
Bee sighed heavily as she climbed aboard the people mover at the Luna City docking station. A look out the window confi
rmed the starkness of the landscape. Bee pulled her hand-held, personal PAL device out of her pocket and messaged her parents to let them know she’d arrived safely on the Moon. Then she pulled up one of her agriculture texts and tried to lose herself in it for the duration of the ride.
Bee scanned the terminal for a Lunar Camp sign and saw it in the corner with one lone boy standing under it. She realized it had been hours since she’d eaten and stopped at a brightly lit automated food and beverage kiosk. She was in no rush to get to her destination. Five credits bought her a butter pie and a hot chocolate, which she alternately chewed and sipped as she strolled toward the gathering area for the lunar campers.
“Hey, where did you get that?” asked the boy standing under the Lunar Camp sign. Bee guessed he was probably around her age, though he was small, as if he hadn’t yet hit his growth spurt, and his skin was as pale as hers was dark.
“The butter pie? There’s a machine down that corridor over there.”
“They’re hard to come by in most places on the Moon – my older brother said there was a kiosk where you could get them at the terminal here in Luna City, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find it,” the boy said. “Do you think I have time to get one?”
Bee shrugged. “We’re the only ones here, so I don’t see why not.”
“Watch my stuff!” he said as he took off running, dodging around the other passengers coming and going in the terminal.
“Sure.” Bee shook her head and turned to study his luggage, which was sitting in front of her. Along with a suitcase were a duffle and a shoulder bag, all of which were stained with what looked like Moon dust. She peered at the nametag on the shoulder bag and was able to decipher that the boy’s name was Mike Lopez and that he was from the lunar colony of Plato, so named for the prominent crater it was near.
The traffic stream in the terminal was increasing, which probably meant another rocket of passengers had come in. Bee moved the wheeled suitcase and the shoulder bag closer to the wall to get them out of the way and then tugged on the strap of Mike’s duffel bag to pull it closer to the other things. She was surprised to find it heavy. She frowned. What did he have in there, rocks?
