The 17

by Mike Kilroy

  He further explained that on Zack’s planet, all organic molecules are left-handed and on Mizuki’s world, all organic molecules are right-handed.

  “You cannot survive on each other’s off-handed worlds. She could gain no nourishment from your food. Your planet would eventually kill her.”

  Zack stumbled back to his cot and sat on it, feeling the spring poke him unpleasantly again. “So, there’s no way?”

  “No.”

  “Does she know?”

  “She has been informed.”

  “Can I say goodbye?”

  “She asked the same. Would that not bring you more distress to see her again knowing you cannot be with her?”

  “Yes. But it’s worth it.”

  “Vexing to the last.”

  Zack stood from his cot and walked to the barrier. “Will you grant me one more wish?”

  “What is your wish?”

  “I want to see you.”

  Silence.

  Zack waited. The barrier dissipated and from the shadow emerged George in his true form. Zack was taken aback by the sight at first, but smiled.

  George had a head, a torso, arms and legs like every life form he had seen, but he was translucent like a jellyfish. Instead of a gelatinous body, it was a swirl of pure energy, much like the barrier that once separated them. The lights swirled in sapphire blues and glowing granites and alabasters and pale greens and pinks.

  Zack reached out his hand to George, but he backed away timidly. His face had no eyes, no nose, no lips, but he still spoke. “I offend you.”

  “No, George, you are beautiful.”

  A long pause, then, “You are ugly.”

  Zack laughed.

  George’s colors began to fade. They became dull and lackluster and no longer swirled with the same vigor. He bent over in what looked like pain.

  “What’s happening, George?”

  “We are dying. Our end is nearing. We are alone.”

  “You’re not really alone and this really isn’t the end. You have left us, and countless others, behind. In a way, we are your children, your offspring. We can live for you.”

  “Thank you, Zack. What we did, we did to survive, but it was a foolhardy quest. We were doomed and have been doomed for centuries. We are old and tired. We have overstayed the welcome of the universe. We will let the natural course of things decide our fate, as it always has been and always will be. There is a higher power that even we must answer to.”

  Zack was speechless. He felt pangs of guilt.

  “I’m sorry, George.” Zack meant it.

  George’s colors returned, vibrant as ever. “All living things die. Go to the one you call Mizuki. She is waiting for you.”

  “Thank you, George.”

  George slipped back into the shadows.

  Zack felt for him and his dying race.

  Like rust eating away at a steel bridge, time and mutations ate away at the Ankhs. They tried to fight it, tried to stem the ever-increasing tide, but ultimately lost their war—the only war that counted.

  Their extinction was just as certain as the extinction of the stars and the heat of the universe.

  †††

  Zack heard the din grow louder as he neared the grand ballroom—the center of the universe. As he stepped through the great arch, he was shocked to see thousands of people milling about.

  He had no idea the scope of the Ankhs’ operation until now. All of these people were brought here from every corner of the universe. Now they were all going home. They were joyous.

  Zack scanned the crowd for a familiar face, but saw none. He pushed his way through the throng, bumping into people with scales, people with skin as dark as that desert night, people as light as the brightest moon in Mizuki’s sky, tall people and short people, thin people and round people, people with eyes of every color.

  He marveled at each and every one of them.

  Finally he saw Harness and Caroline and slithered his way to them.

  “Hey, loser,” Harness said, smiling, as he raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. “They fixed me up. They fixed us all up.”

  Caroline limped to Zack and threw her arms around him. “Zack. Oh my God, Zack. What happened?”

  “I took Harness’ advice and fell on the sword.”

  Harness peered at him, dumbfounded.

  Zack scanned the crowd again and saw Zill, Brock and Cass huddled close by. They acknowledged him with a wave, and then parted enough for Zack to catch a glimpse of Jenai.

  When she saw him, she bounded over to him and squeezed him tightly. “You avenged me,” she said as she dug her head into his chest.

  Zack smiled. “I avenged us all.”

  Brock, Cass and Zill walked over and huddled closely around Zack. It was disconcerting.

  Some things never change.

  “Your solution,” Brock said, his voice very Brock-ly—Zack had missed his analytical speeches, “was very interesting.”

  Cass rolled her eyes. “You’re still a bloody idiot if you ask me.” She winked to let him know she was chiding.

  Zill just looked at him and smiled, her arms crossed on her chest. “At least you know what your deal is now. We all have a deal.”

  Zack scanned the room again, looking for Mizuki. He longed to see her again before they departed. His heart still hurt that they could not be together.

  Caroline noticed his searching eyes and tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. “She’s not here.”

  “Where is she?” Zack asked.

  “In her room. She said she couldn’t bear to be around all these people so happy to be going home when she couldn’t go where she really wanted to go.”

  Zack bowed his head and bit his lower lip. The reality of their situation had finally hit him. He would never see Mizuki again after tonight. There are long-distance relationships and then there are long-distance relationships. They rarely worked when there are only a few hundred miles of separation, let alone a galaxy.

  It wasn’t like Zack could Skype with her. It wasn’t like he could Snapchat with her or text her good morning and goodnight. That saddened him deeply.

  Caroline pecked him on the cheek. “Go to her.”

  Zack nodded and pushed his way toward the exit. He looked back at Caroline, who brushed a tear from her cheek and squeezed Harness’ arm. Zack knew Caroline well and he knew she was feeling guilty.

  She would have her bae; Zack would not.

  As Zack exited the center of the universe he was stopped by a large, scaly hand on his shoulder that spun him around.

  Peering down at him were the large eyes of Splifkin. Zack’s lips quivered as he tried to speak. Splifkin allayed his fears with a deep laugh. “Don’t worry, Zack, I will not consume you like a norge, if that is what you fear.”

  Zack chuckled nervously. “I’m just glad to see you … normal.”

  Splifkin laughed again, his skin turning pink. “I’m just relieved everyone was restored.”

  Everyone did appear to be back to normal as if nothing had happened. Zack knew better, though. No one would go back to normal after this experience. No one would slip back into their lives when they returned home. Zack figured that was probably a good thing.

  He was a different person now, as if his skin had changed pigment from the yellow of a timid boy who was too afraid to stick up for himself and into bold colors, confident colors, determined colors.

  Content colors.

  “What will you do now?” Zack asked.

  Splifkin contemplated the question, his skin swirling orange. “I don’t know and it is wonderful. Absolutely splendid. Exciting.”

  Zack grinned. “Good luck, Splifkin.”

  “I wish you good luck as well, Zack,” Splifkin said, his large eye winking. “Now go. I’m tired of looking at you.”

  †††

  Mizuki stood at the window, staring out at the two moons that were once again together in the sky.

  Zack walked in slowly. Mizuki didn’t
turn to look at him. “They have a flare for irony, putting those moons up there again. Bastards.”

  Zack stood next to her and held out his right hand. The light reflected off the moon tattoo and then off of hers as their fingers clasped. “They pretend to be jerks, but I think they are romantics at heart.”

  Mizuki chuckled. “Yeah, regular poets they are.”

  She placed her head on his shoulder and he reached over and combed his fingers through her silky hair. It was as soft as ever. He wanted to commit that to his memory.

  He wanted to commit it all to memory for that was all he would have of her after this night, their last together in the Ankh’s sky. He wanted to remember her every touch, her every smell, the sight of her every smile and her every longing gaze, of her every wink and of every sharp knuckle and pointy elbow she thrust into his soft ribs.

  He wanted to store her away in his mind for all time, able to recall her at a moment’s notice when he was feeling down or hurt or scared or lonely. He wanted her to be the thing he clung to in times of strife from now until the end of his time.

  As she lifted her head to look at him again, a smile creasing her face and those big brown eyes staring at him with all the love in the universe, he knew she was doing the same.

  She placed her head back down on his shoulder and sighed deeply. Zack felt her tears dampen his YOLO t-shirt. “Those moons have at least one night a year together,” she said. “We won’t even have that.”

  Zack lifted her head off his shoulder with a light touch of his index finger on her chin. The moons lit up her big brown eyes as he gazed into them. He wanted something profound to say, but instead he just blurted, “Yeah, it sucks.”

  She laughed deeply, her chest heaving. “Aw, you know just the right thing to say.”

  Mizuki placed her head back on his shoulder and squeezed his hand.

  Zack gently kissed her on the forehead. “We should focus on the time we did have together, like Anneka and Alldan. They relished the one night they had each year and didn’t dwell on the time they were apart. We were blessed to have many nights together, Mizuki.”

  “Call me Anneka. I like it when you call me Anneka.”

  Zack scoffed. “Really? I thought you didn’t like to be called Anneka?”

  “I want you to now. It seems … right.”

  “If I call you Anneka, you have to call me Alldan.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up.”

  “I love you, Anneka.”

  “I love you, Alldan, to the moons and back.”

  About the author

  Since he wrote his first book at the age of 8 about "The Venusians" for a school project, Mike Kilroy has been hooked on writing. An award-winning journalist for more than two decades, Kilroy has now authored three novels: the best-selling, post-apocalyptic tome "Nine Meals," the swashbuckling young adult science fiction tale "The 17," and “Solo,” a book about the monsters that live inside all of us.

  Be sure to add these other books from this author to your library today:

  Nine Meals

  2014 B.R.A.G. Medallion winner for excellence in Indie publishing

  When the sun belched and the power grid failed, it was only nine meals until the end of the world.

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IE0T608

  Solo

  New release

  The end has come. Or is it just beginning?

  Solo finds himself in a desolate world known to him only as the After. His memories from Before are gone … except for the haunting recollection of a woman—Eye Lyds—and a fleeting knowledge that he was a monster, a particular kind of monster.

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RE7K0X4