evardsson.com: stuff that w0rks

prompt: Write about two people striking up an unlikely friendship.

available at Reedsy

The PV Hobby Horse, a small cargo ship in the manufacturer’s default medium grey, sat at one end of the docks. Mid-bulk transports took the other occupied slots, while the big ships were loaded by drone on the opposite side of the station.

Sidra Boston, captain of the Hobby Horse and professional bounty hunter, found herself facing a trip back into aslodzhin space to fulfill a promise. The trip was going to cost. Any other species’ space, she’d find someone that needed a small cargo delivered, but not so the aslodzhins. They already had her and her ship registered as a private vehicle for the purpose of bounty hunting, and their rules were as strict and inflexible as their carapace.

On a whim, she checked for any bounties put out by the aslodzhin courts. That she found one surprised her; the fact that the bounty was so low it wouldn’t even cover docking fees didn’t. Still, the skip was reportedly on this station, and it saved her a few credits.

Sidra wandered the station, stopping in the first eatery she encountered. They did a passable burger and fries, but the milkshake tasted like sweetened sludge, and was undrinkable.

She paid for her meal and looked at the warrant again. The hikarin female shouldn’t be difficult to find. Hikarins were tall, often well over two meters, thin, fine-boned, furry, and had six limbs, sometimes walking on four, sometimes on three and sometimes on two. The center two limbs were long and strong enough to act as legs, yet they had grasping feet-hands. This station, in human space, had few hikarins, and even fewer with the rare, orange fur of her bounty.

Finding her quarry was easier than expected. She sat against the wall in the main concourse and held a sign asking for food or assistance to get to Lizshak, a world in aslodzhin space.

Sidra didn’t have any weapons or cuffs on her, but thought she’d give it a try. “Minsahee?” she asked.

The hikarin nodded. Her large eyes were sunken, her fur a matted and dull orange-brown beneath crusted clothes. “Can you help me get home?”

“Minsahee, I have a warrant for your arrest for failure to appear before the aslodzhin court. You can come with me quietly, or I can go back and get my cuffs and shackles and we can do this the hard way.”

Minsahee’s eyes filled with tears. “You mean, you’ll take me to Lizshak?”

“I wasn’t planning on going that far, but I’ll get you to aslodzhin space, Station 47, and the court will take you wherever you’re meant to stand trial.” Sidra extended a hand to help the hikarin to her feet.

She was too weak to walk on two limbs, instead leaning over to walk on four, and even then, her steps were unsteady. Sidra put an arm around her and was surprised at how bony the woman felt under the fur.

“Do you need a doctor?”

Minsahee leaned against Sidra. “No, I’m just tired.”

Sidra didn’t see a need to put the hikarin in the cell built into the cargo bay, and instead offered her a bunk in an unused cabin. “I’m trusting you not to be stupid,” she said. “Remember, I could take you on my worst day and your best, so don’t make me lock you up.”

Minsahee said nothing. Instead, she lay on the bunk, once again on the verge of tears.

Sidra grabbed a meal bar from the pantry and gave it to her with a jug of water. “There’s a washroom right next door if you need it. Once we’re in the hyper lane I’ll have time to answer any questions.”

At least the return trip to aslodzhin space would be quiet. She’d spent the last two weeks with a crippled turgen in the cell, cursing her every minute he was awake, until she finally snapped, “You wouldn’t stop! You threatened to kill the hikarin you’d already hurt, and the aslodzhin officer, and me! How was I to know you can’t walk or stand without the use of your tail, anyway?”

The court was at first reluctant to pay the bounty, given his condition. Once they saw the bodycam footage, though, they relented.

This was a strange one, though. She’d picked up skips in various states of injury or illness, but never one that seemed on the verge of starving to death.

Once they were in the lane, course plotted in, she returned to the cabin Minsahee was using. The door was still open, and the empty wrapper for the meal bar was folded neatly and laid next to the pillow on the bunk. The hikarin had drunk half the water and was sleeping curled up in a ball.

Sidra closed the door and slept in a chair right outside it. It wouldn’t do to have the gal try to sneak to the cockpit and reroute the ship to Lizshak.

When Sidra woke a few hours later, Minsahee was still asleep. She heated up a can of potato-leek soup with ham and filled a bowl for herself. It was just as she started on her meal that Minsahee entered, carrying the half-empty water jug and meal bar wrapper.

Sidra looked up at her. “You hungry?”

Minsahee nodded and Sidra got up and poured the other half can of soup into a bowl, put a spoon in it, and set it on the table opposite herself. She sat back down and nodded at the bowl.

The hikarin got the message and sat to eat. She ate as if it was the last meal she’d ever get. Still, she only managed to eat half of it.

“Thank you, Captain.”

“So, Minsahee, why Lizshak?”

“I have—had a home there. Maybe I can go back to my job after I serve my time.”

“Your warrant didn’t say anything about your crime. You mind telling me?”

“Not a crime, a civil infraction.” Minsahee still held on to the meal bar wrapper until Sidra pointed at the recycler where she finally deposited it.

“What was the infraction, and how much time are you facing?”

“Mandatory three standard days for failure to appear for an appointment to have my signature notarized.”

Sidra’s spoon stopped halfway to her mouth which hung open. She set the spoon back in the bowl. “Say that again?”

“I was closing out a lease, which required a notarized signature. I had an appointment at the court notary but had to leave the day prior for Amherst station where you picked me up.”

“Why is that?”

“My hemi-brother was injured and in intensive care there. He was my only remaining family.”

Sidra sighed. “Was. I take it he didn’t make it?”

Minsahee shook her head. “I spent every credit I had getting there and had no way back.”

“How long were you on Amherst?”

“I don’t know in standard days, but seventy-one human days.”

“Shit.” Sidra went back to eating her soup. “Do you feel a little better with some food in your belly?”

“Yes, Captain. Thank you again.”

“I’m going to lay out a few simple rules on my ship. One: never enter the cockpit unless I tell you to. Two: never cycle an airlock unless I tell you to. Three: Clean up after yourself. That includes putting your leftovers in the fridge over there and finishing them later. I hate waste. Four: if you’re using the washroom, flip the switch just inside the door up, so I know you’re in there, and flip it down when you leave.”

“Yes, Captain, I will do those things.”

“As long as you don’t break the rules, you can call me Sid. Is it okay if I call you Min?”

Minsahee nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Sidra stood up and cleaned up her dishes. “Not rules, but a few helpful things. If you want to wait to eat when I eat, that’s fine, but if you’re hungry, don’t be afraid to come in and feed yourself. Drinking water is available from the labeled tap over there. First aid kit is right there, too, but there’s nothing in there to make me go night-night or get you high. If you need to, feel free to use my shampoo. I take it you haven’t had a good wash in a while, right?”

Minsahee looked down at the table. “Right.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. It’s not your fault. Social Services on Amherst should’ve done something to help.”

 As Minsahee put her leftovers in the fridge, Sidra flopped down on the sofa and started up a holo series. She hadn’t been able to pay any attention with her last passenger, so it seemed like a good time to catch up.

She heard the shower start and stop several times. At least she knows how to wash without wasting water, Sidra thought. During quiet parts of the holo she could hear pained grunts and sharp intakes of breath from the cabins.

Sidra paused the holo and went to check on Minsahee. Her door was open, and she was trying to untangle bright orange fur with her fingers. Her clothes lay in a pile beside the bed.

Sidra grabbed a comb and brush from the washroom and tapped on her door. “Would you like some help?”

“I don’t want to be a bother—”

“Nonsense. You can throw those clothes and the bedsheets in the sterilizer and come sit in the galley with me. I’ll work on your back while you work on your front.”

“But I’m naked.”

“So? See anyone else around here?”

Minsahee picked up the clothes and sheets and put them in the machine that Sidra pointed to. It started automatically, and she followed Sidra back to the galley.

“I’m gonna sit on the sofa, just sit on the floor in front of me and I’ll get started on your back.”

Once they’d settled in, Sidra resumed play on the holo and began to comb the mats out of the hikarin’s fur. She was careful not to pull too hard, instead treating it as she did the rescue cat she’d had years before.

“Captain, why would you do this for me?”

“I told you, Min, call me Sid.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Maybe I just don’t want the court to think I abused you on the way.”

Minsahee shook her head. “That’s not it. You could’ve brought me in exactly as you found me, and they wouldn’t care. So why, Sid?”

“Most of the time my job’s pretty lonely. I guess it’s just nice having a skip that isn’t trying to run, or kill me, or anything of the sort.” She laughed. “You’re the first bounty I’ve ever picked up that wanted to go serve your time.”

“I can’t get work until I do,” she said, “so I should.”

Once Sidra had worked out the mats on Minsahee’s head, back, and upper arms, she handed the comb to her and began to brush out those areas. All the while, the two watched episode after episode of the holo.

They stopped partway through the evening to eat; Minsahee reheating and finishing her soup and Sidra making herself a sandwich. Even though her clothes were clean, Minsahee didn’t rush to dress. When Sidra had finished with the brush, Minsahee took over, brushing her forelimbs and legs, chest, belly, and neck.

As one of the holo episodes ended, Sidra stopped it and stood. “I’m going to shower and go to bed. If you want to keep watching you can, just no spoilers.”

“Spoilers?”

“If you watch more episodes, don’t tell me what happens. I like to find out for myself.”

“I think I’m just going to finish brushing out my legs, and then go to sleep myself. I’m not ready to put clothes on with how good my fur feels right now. Besides, I think the show’s more enjoyable with a friend.”

Sidra nodded and left the galley. A friend, she thought, is that how she sees me? The sterilizer was on the way to the cabins, so she pulled out the sheets and clothes, made up Minsahee’s bed, and laid her folded clothes in the center of it. The four-sleeved top had a large rip on one of the lower sleeves, but Sidra didn’t have any way to repair it.

She stepped into the shower, wet herself down, scrubbed, and rinsed quickly. She walked out carrying her clothes and wrapped in a towel. Minsahee waited for her just inside the door of her cabin. “Thank you again, ca—Sid.”

“Get some sleep, Min.” Sidra dropped her clothes and the towel in the sterilizer on her way by and lay down to sleep in her own cabin. She knew for sure now that Minsahee wasn’t going to sneak onto the bridge or try to strangle her in her sleep.

The next morning, Sidra pulled the treasure she’d picked up on Amherst out of the pantry. Two real potatoes. She’d planned on gorging on home fries, but since she had company, she’d share. Shit, she thought, company? I thought I was hauling a skip.

As she finished chopping the potatoes, she answered herself aloud, “No, she’s a good woman. She just missed an appointment, we all do. It’s the bugs that are the baddies here.”

“Did you say something?”

Sidra jumped, knocking the knife off the counter. It landed on her foot, leaving a long gash. “Ow, shit!”

“Lay down and elevate your foot,” Minsahee said with more force than Sidra thought her capable of. She pulled the first-aid kit off the wall and dropped down next to Sidra. In a matter of seconds, she’d cleaned the wound, and begun pulling out the suture kit. “I’m sorry, Captain, it’s deep and it needs stitches.”

“What was your job?” Sidra asked.

“Second-rank-emergency-trauma-physician-first-class,” she answered, as she sprayed a numbing agent on the injury.

“Aslodzhin titles. That would be like, what, an ER doctor in human space?”

“Similar,” she said, while stitching up Sidra’s foot. “The only things we don’t do are those we pass off to surgeons or specialists.”

Within a matter of minutes, Sidra’s foot was stitched and bandaged, and Minsahee helped her to the sofa where she could lie down and elevate her foot. Only after she was settled did she notice that besides tending her wound, Minsahee had cleaned up the blood, tidied up the suture and bandage packages, and repacked the first aid kit.

“Thanks, Min. Or I guess I should say Doctor Minsahee.”

“There’s no need for that. But I will have to take care of you for a few days. You need to stay off that foot as much as possible.”

“Ugh.”

“What were you preparing to cook?”

“I was going to make us some home fries. The potatoes are chopped and ready.”

“I don’t know what home fries or potatoes are, but if you talk me through it, I can make it for you.”

As Sidra lay on the sofa, eating home fries, she looked at the hikarin woman seated in the chair across from her, savoring them, taking her time.

“You know, Min, I think these may be the best home fries I’ve ever had. I don’t know whether it’s the potatoes, the cook, or the company.”

“Like I said, everything’s better with a friend.”

“We’ll have to do this again.”

“When I finish my time?”

“That sounds like a plan. I can hang around and wait a few days for you. Maybe even find some potatoes there on the station…wouldn’t that be something?”

Minsahee cleaned up the mess in the galley and made sure Sidra had water close to hand. “I’ll go make sure the cabins and washroom are clean. If you need anything, call.”

“They’re clean enough. Let’s watch some more of this series.” The next episode started, and Sidra looked at her foot, then at the hikarin woman curled up on the floor watching with her. She’d always worked alone, but maybe she could do with a doctor on board…or even a friend.

prompt: Write a story in the form of a letter, or multiple letters back and forth.

available at Reedsy

Dearest sister,

I have arrived, and it is beyond everything we’ve heard. The crowds and noise of the city would be overwhelming if I hadn’t spent so long doing language training at Holger Station.

The air smells weird here. I’ve been assured it’s perfectly safe, but there are so many different chemicals that once I get used to one scent, another comes along. The strongest come from the eateries, the odors of cooking pouring out to the streets to entice customers in, but as I’m not used to the food, it’s just strange.

I was met at the port by Lt. Stephen Marks. He’s been an absolute gentleman. After he got me set up in my quarters, he took me out for dinner and introduced me to tacos. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but they were flavorful and filling, once I got over the mix of several strong flavors all at once. He has promised to ensure I get as full education an in all the world’s cuisines and cultures as possible.

I’m still nervous about the course, but I have a few days before it starts to get myself settled and get to know some of the other students. To think that I’m the first of our people to attend — it’s a big honor, but you know how I feel about that sort of thing.

I’ll be cutting this letter short, though, as I need to get some rest after the trip and try to “get my internal clock set to local time,” as Stephen puts it.

Give my love to matron. Your loving sister,

Mia.

#

Little sister,

It’s good to hear that you arrived safely. The danger is over, at least until it’s time to come back home. I have no doubt the officer you’re already on a first name basis with, ~Stephen~, will keep you safe.

You know I’m just teasing. But just in case you ~do~ end up getting involved, you have to promise to tell me if the rumors are true. The ones about human males, I mean. Skies be damned, tell me the truth about ~all~ the rumors, but first the one about the males. I crack myself up.

You need to take holos of ~everything~. I’m not the only curious person around here. How does it feel to be surrounded by a bunch of humans? Do they trip over you? How do you keep from getting your tails stepped on?

As far as the “big honor” goes, you’re a war hero whether you want it or not. And before you start with that stupid ~I just did what anybody would do~ nonsense, NO YOU DIDN’T! You did exactly the right thing at the right time and kept an invading army from taking our home. My silly ass would’ve just run away.

That’s why you’re the youngest Commadorer in the army, and I sell fur care products and groom strangers for pay. By the way, I sent you some of the new fur shine I told you about before. You don’t take enough care of yourself, and since I’m not there to groom you, you have to promise to use it when it gets there. If you don’t I’ll slap you ~so hard~. And then I’ll run, because you can thrash your big sister’s tails. No respect for your elders. It’s so sad.

 I know matron wanted you to go into business, but I’m glad you’re in the military instead. I agree with what the Minister of State or whatever said when you got your Super Value Medal. If you hadn’t been there, we’d all be slaves to the Grogant.

I’ll light a candle for you and send your love at matron’s grave when I go tomorrow.

Cuddles and grooms for my beloved little sister, the savior of Meelak and all Mataka

Nia

#

Dearest sister,

You are forever a source of exasperation. If you want to know about the “rumor” as you put it, pick up your Xeno Biology book from the class you failed and look it up. You’ll find the answer in the section about Terran mammals (which includes humans.) By the way, yes, most Terran mammal males have their gonads suspended outside their abdomens.

I’m not going to argue with you about hero or not anymore, it’s not worth the hassle. But I don’t know what a “Commadorer” is. I’m the youngest Commander in the Army. Also, the Minister of State had nothing to do with my Commendation for Supreme Valor, (“Super Value Medal”? really? what am I, a sale?) — that was the Director of Military Affairs.

No, the humans don’t step on my tails or trip over me. We’re about the same size as a human child and they seem to instinctively watch out for people our size.

The first few days of the course were all classroom stuff, but still intense. It turns out that the humans have different militaries that all send officers to this course, along with some civilians as well.

They have a force that fights only on the ground (Army), one that fights in the air (Air Force), one dedicated to fighting on and in the water, how weird is that? (Navy — that’s where Stephen is from), one dedicated to fighting in space (Space Force), one that specializes in moving from water or space to land or ship-boarding in both places, (Marines), and even a force that only engages in electronic warfare, (Cyber Force.)

At first, I was confused. How could they keep all the different services coordinated? That’s what this course is about: coordinating the efforts of the different services, civilian organizations, and even militaries from other worlds in a war.

There is a lot I need to catch up on in terms of tactics, but it’s engrossing. I was thoroughly embarrassed, though, to find out that the battle of Meelak was taught as a prime example of a “hold and delay” action. The instructor then had a question-and-answer period, where I had to answer the questions. I honestly didn’t know what I was doing most of the time during Meelak. I just made it up as I went since the Commander was dead.

I got the fur shine today. Thank you, my fur was getting dry. Just because I don’t spend two hours every morning grooming my fur, though, doesn’t mean I’m a slob. Seriously, a full treatment every few days is plenty. I’m not trying to be a model. Besides, you got all the looks in the family.

I need to turn in. We’re heading out early in the morning to begin a training exercise involving all the different services. Stephen will be on a ship — as in a water ship, while I’ll be working with an Army mechanized infantry unit. They’ve outfitted me with a modified, smaller version of their uniform (with a hole for my tails) and a civilian pack that’s more suited to my size. They even found a plate carrier and plates small enough for me but, skies above, all this stuff is heavy.

I probably won’t have a chance to send another letter until the end of the course, as the next few weeks will be spent on the exercise, which takes place all over the planet.

All my love,

Mia

#

Little sister,

I don’t care what your award is called, it’s awesome and you’re awesome. My award is that I have the ~best sister in the whole galaxy~!

I don’t know when you’ll get this, since you said you’ll be moving all over the place, but I’m thinking of you every day.

You were right about the bio book, it even had drawings. WEIRD!

Lezl has been reading your letters, by the way, and says hi. She also said you called me dumb in your last letter but I didn’t see it anywhere. That just made her LAUGH at me! I think she made that up just to tease. Thanks for admitting that I’m the prettier one, though. You’re ~so sweet~!

It sounds like the humans are overdoing it on the different militaries. Kind of like using fur shine, then washing with deep rinse, then doing a steam treatment, and then, whatever. You get what I mean. It’s good we just have the army and you are the ~Commander~!

Have fun exercising, and I can’t wait to hear how it went.

Cuddles and grooms,

Nia

#

Dearest sister,

First, allow me to correct something you said. I am not The Commander of the Army, I am A Commander in the Army. I’m in charge of a cohort, what the Terran Army calls a company. In this course, though, we get the chance to take command of an entire brigade combat team, (about the same size as what we call a major combat group), and coordinate with the other services’ teams.

And it’s not that I was out exercising, (although I got plenty of that), the training simulation is called an exercise. We are fighting (with fake rounds) the Opposing Force (OPFOR) made up of other units from the human militaries. While the OPFOR was meant to be generic, the units and tactics they used were exactly like the Grogant. If we’d had this sort of training and cohesion, we could’ve driven them back in half the time, without having to resort to orbital bombardment of three whole cities to get rid of them.

In other words, we “won” the exercise and defeated the OPFOR in a matter of weeks. The training ended with live fire demonstrations of the human “rods from god” which is what they call heavy tungsten rods released from orbit with no guidance or explosives. They are far more precise and cause less surrounding damage than our own orbital bombardment, but still more than enough to demolish a Grogant carrier spike ship with full shields. (How they got one that works is beyond me, and I know better than to ask.)

The different militaries: yes, it does somewhat seem like they’ve overcomplicated it, but it all works together so well that it makes our own Army look somewhat lackluster. Imagine if the major combat groups and cohorts only focused on one type of warfare. Just one thing, rather than being expected to provide ship-board security, then do a boarding action, then defend on the ground, then drive armor, then use artillery, then work to repair vehicles, and so on. We’d be much better at it if we specialized in one job. In this case, the humans have the right of it. Considering that only deep space navigators and trans-light pilots are specialized, we’re all just sort of okay at everything and an expert at nothing.

One thing that surprised me was that your letter got here as quickly as it did. The humans have logistics down to a science. It’s been made clear to me through the exercise that logistics are what makes or breaks a military and can decide battles and even wars.

I would’ve written back sooner but was too busy. Even though it was for training, it was exhausting and hard. They have a saying that exactly translated is, “Don’t use only half your haunches while training. How you train is how you will fight.” I think the first part of that means give it your all. The humans have a lot of saying involving their haunches; maybe because they don’t have tails. Who knows?

Anyway, I’m heading home tomorrow, so I should be there no more than a day or two after this letter reaches you. I’m bringing home my certificate from the Terran Joint and Combined Warfighting School, a host of things to teach to my higher-ups in the Army, an honorary commission as a Captain in the Terran Army, and contacts of some new friends. Sorry, I only managed to make about three hundred holos, I know you’ll complain it’s not enough.

See you soon, dear sister,

Mia.

prompt: Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.

available at Reedsy

Liza rubbed her hand over her recently shaved head, savoring the “ping,” the feeling of petting a tennis ball. She didn’t care if long hair was in; when summer hit, it was time to shave it all off. Ever since the arrival of the tarkins, Earth’s nearest neighbors in the galaxy, fashions morphed and changed faster than they ever had.

She wondered if it might, however, have been premature on her part. Waiting to board a tarkin ship bound to their world, she didn’t know what kind of climate — or season — to expect. Even in summer, though, the tarkins rarely raised the sail-like cooling fin that ran from the top of their head to the middle of their back so, she figured, it must be a hot world.

The British Columbia Interplanetary Spaceport was massive; carved out of the mountain, built, plumbed, wired, and connected to the highway and rail line in less than a week. Of course, the ships that landed and took off from BCIX were, like the port itself, all tarkin, but that didn’t stop cruise lines from finding a way to offer interplanetary cruises, like the one Liza had won from a trivia contest at work.

The tarkins hadn’t come as saviors or for technological uplift, though their technology healed an ailing world. Nor had they come as friends, though friendship was forged over the years. They came as irate neighbors, telling Earth, “Shut the hell up.”

Our broadcasts, calling out to the universe, “Hey, is anyone out there? Here we are,” riled our neighbors. They intercepted our probes, but worried that if we weren’t quiet, the Swarm would find us, and would happen upon them along the way.

Liza was determined that she would use this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to find out as much about Greeth as she could. Swarm or no, they had the means to travel in silence, and when would she ever have another chance to travel to a different world?

“Boarding is now beginning for all Ultima Cruise Line passengers for the Greeth Explorer Cruise at gate seven.” The young man’s voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, cutting through the clamor of the terminal without being harsh or uncomfortably loud, as he spoke into the handheld radio. The cruise passengers’ suitcases already loaded, Liza moved to the queue pulling her carryon case. 

The queue for the cruise was all human, and the fall of chilled air washing down over them was a blessed relief from the sweltering summer outside and the higher temperature of most of the port. The tarkins had “healed” the Earth, but it would take at least a century before the temperatures would return to the pre-industrial levels.

A tarkin hemi-female, a head taller than Liza and dressed in a skirt-like wrap that passed beneath her stubby tail and nothing else, gathered Liza and a few other passengers. “My name is Lilget. If you follow me,” she said, “I’ll show you to your cabins.”

Liza heard muttering about the guide “walking around half naked,” and shot a nasty glare at the woman who uttered it. Once she was certain the woman was suitably cowed, she introduced herself to the guide.

“Hi, Lilget, Liza. Pleasure to meet you.” She put her hand out for a shake.

“My pleasure, Miss Liza.” She grasped Liza’s hand with her own blue-grey, six-fingered, webbed, and surprisingly warm hand. She had short, deep blue stripes, one on each side of her nasal slits, small, sparkling orange eyes, six pale blue nipples that reminded Liza of a cat or dog, and a cooling fin that faded from blue-grey at the base to a soft lavender at the tips.

After dropping the others off at their cabins, she led Liza to the end of the corridor, the last cabin. All the trappings of a cruise liner had been constructed in this section of the ship, including the freight elevator used by housekeeping that opened right next to her cabin.

“Should’ve guessed it would be the cheapest cabin available,” she said.

“Miss Liza, if I may?”

“Just Liza, Lilget.”

“Certainly, Liza. I would recommend that if you tire of the cruise facilities over the next two weeks, take the freight lift down to level four, then head straight across to the passenger lift, and go up to level twenty-two.”

“What’s there?”

“Similar to your cruise accommodations, there are restaurants, shops, and a recreation center. But they are tarkin, not human. But,” she leaned in to whisper, “you need to avoid the human cruise employees. They don’t like their guests leaving.”

“I’ll probably take you up on that.” She was about to turn away when she stopped. “By the way, how — uh — far is it that we’re going?”

“Greeth is just over 112 light years from Earth.”

“Wow. Two weeks. That’s mind-boggling.”

“Yes, it is slow on these mixed passenger and freight liners.”

Liza laughed. “You and I have different definitions of slow.”

---

It took all of two days for Liza to tire of the cruise’s included meals in the main dining, and the restaurants, spa, and theatre all required money of which she was short — having converted most of her account to Greeth money as recommended by the cruise line.

She followed Lilget’s instructions, ducking into the freight elevator when no other humans were looking. She travelled down to level four, where the doors opened to a deck that was busy and a balmy 28 degrees Celsius. She was surprised to see Lilget there chatting with other tarkins.

Based on the tail shapes, she was talking to another hemi-female, a female, and one that was either a youngish male or adult hemi-male. She didn’t want to interrupt, so she gave a small nod and continued toward the lift.

Lilget raised her cooling sail, waving it back and forth. “Liza! Come over and meet my siblings.”

Liza walked over. “Hi, Lilget. I didn’t want to interrupt, it looked like an important discussion.”

“Only the most important,” the hemi-male said, “what to have for our meal.”

She noticed that all four had similar deep blue stripes by their nasal slits, but Lilget was the only one whose fin paled to lavender, the others all fading to a dusty cyan. “I can see the resemblance,” Liza said.

Lilget went around the circle, introducing her the hemi-male, the hemi-female, and the female in turn. “This is Birget, Mizget, and Grigetta. Siblings, this is Liza.”

They all gave a short flap and wave of their cooling fins. Unable to reciprocate, Liza said, “Now I wish I’d gotten a mohawk instead of cutting it all off, then I could wave back.”

The arrival of the elevator saved her from the awkward silence as none of the tarkins understood what she was talking about. She piled on with, she guessed, around fifty tarkins, but they were the only group speaking English.

When the doors opened on level twenty-two, Liza was hit with an aroma that was at once mouth-watering and alien. As the siblings were still discussing what they would eat, Liza asked, “What is that? It smells delicious.”

Birget laughed. “That is the air purifiers. They put in the smell of smatta fruit, so you know it’s working.”

“A bit like using vanilla-scented candles, and you think you’re in for cookies, but you’re not.”

The siblings stopped, turned to face each other, and shouted out together, “Koukies!”

Liza found herself being led by the hand at breakneck speed for an eatery on the opposite side of the level. The siblings chattered at her, assuring her that it would be the culinary experience of her life.

In the whirlwind of ordering, getting two trays of food, and finding a table, she learned that she was about to taste tarkin comfort food. One of those things which are bad for you, but taste so good.

At the table, Lilget set a glass of water and a box full of green and yellow cubes in front of Liza. “Are you ready?”

Liza took a whiff of the processed food, and it set off the pleasure centers of her brain in the same way a burger and fries would. “I’ll try anything once,” she said, “twice if it doesn’t kill me.”

The green cubes had a flavor of savory spices and some unknown meat somewhere between pork and chicken. The yellow cubes tasted almost, but not quite, like sweet potato fries. Like the tarkins at the table, she made short work of her meal.

Grigetta pulled another box up from where she’d hidden it on the bench. “And a surprise for our new human friend,” she said.

The smell from the box was similar to that in the air purifier. All eyes were on Liza as Grigetta opened the box and showed the four rod-shaped snacks inside.

Lilget grabbed one and said, “Don’t bite it right away. Suck on it for a bit until it softens up.”

“Or dip it in your water,” Birget said, as he did just that. “Softens it up and makes the water sweet.”

Liza opted for sucking on it. The flavor at first was sweet, but flat. As it softened up, though, other flavors came through. It was as though someone had found a way to combine a churro with lemon, coffee, and some savory flavor she couldn’t identify.

It took a moment for her brain to catch on to the flavors, but once it did, her eyes rolled back in bliss. “This is heaven. What is it called?”

“Koukies,” Lilget answered, “I thought you knew this. They are flavored with smatta fruit; it’s not so good raw but makes the best sweets.”

“No, we have something called ‘cookies’ — sounds almost the same — but you’re going to have to try some now.” She leaned toward Lilget. “You work on the cruise, right?”

“I work on this ship. I’m one of the liaison officers for the human cruise line, when they’re using that cargo space. Usually, I’m just working in the cargo office with my siblings, though.”

“Does the cruise line let you get any of their food? I can suggest the few things that are worth it.”

“No, they don’t. The only reason I was there when you boarded was because one of the humans was sick, and they felt it was fine for a tarkin cargo handler to show the ‘cheapskates’ to their bunks.”

Liza frowned. “That won’t do. When we get back to Earth, can you take shore leave?”

“What’s that?”

“Where you leave the ship, for a few hours, or even days?”

“I think we can. We will have two Earth days to offload the cruise module, and then I need to be back for loading.”

The other siblings were looking at Liza with curious expressions. “Then plan on it. While we’re on the ship, I want to discover all your favorite foods, and you can tell me the best places to go while I’m on Greeth in….”

“Prikitalt is the name of the city where we land,” Lilget offered.

“Prikitalt; got it. In exchange, when we get back to Earth, I’m going to treat you all to human comfort food and cookies, and to whatever sights you want to see in Vancouver.”

prompt: Write a story about a character who finds a childhood toy that brings back memories. 

available at Reedsy

Nita unpacked her belongings in the remarkably unremarkable room. Dorm rooms are the same even here, she thought. Her name was affixed to the top bunk, a small chest of drawers, and the empty half of the closet.

With the strict weight limits on how much she could take with her, unpacking took almost no time. Nine hangers took care of her shirts and trousers, while her undergarments, socks, short trousers and tee shirts barely filled the top drawer. She decided to leave the middle drawer empty for the time being, and she could put the bag in the bottom drawer.

As she turned the bag over to roll it up, the sound of something hitting the floor got her attention. She looked down to see an interlocking plastic brick. Not of any use by itself except as a caltrop for bare feet, she picked it up and examined it. A common two-by-four brick, the blue plastic still looked new.

Nita remembered her first set. She’d never been one to play with the other children in the neighborhood. Building things with her interlocking bricks even when shooed into the front garden to play, had caught the attention of some of the other children. Too shy to say “no” when they asked if they could join in, the other children began to hang out with her, building things in the garden. Over the course of that summer, she’d made friends with half the neighborhood, and soon all of them had multiple sets as well.

How that brick wound up in her bag she didn’t know, but she’d ended up a gram overweight at check-in for the gate and had to discard a pair of socks. One would’ve brought her to weight, but a single sock was of little use, so the pair was left behind.

She’d been assured that the campus gift store would be able to order in things she might need…like socks. As she placed the blue brick on top of the dresser, she wondered if the store would be able to get a set — or sets — of the bricks that had made her locally popular and ignited her interest in engineering.

The door creaked open. Her roommate, a tall taurid woman with polished black horns and hooves, came in by timid, slow measures. Given her bulk, Nita found the contrast hilarious, but did her best not to laugh, trying to keep her expression neutral and non-threatening. If she’s that shy, she thought, I should do my best to make her comfortable.

“Hello, my name is Zuna. You must be Nita. I will do my best not to frighten you.”

That was the breaking point. Nita broke down laughing. “Damn, girl. You may be big, but you don’t scare me. I thought you were just super shy. I was trying to be cool to let you get comfortable.”

“Oh, cool.” Zuna stepped into the room, her hooves clacking on the hardwood floor, which creaked in some spots as she walked toward the bunks. “Well, still, if I come crashing in here sometimes, it’s not your fault. I just get like that sometimes.”

“Don’t we all?”

“It’s mostly elves around here, so I wouldn’t know. Everyone seems scared of me, so I try to stay quiet and out of their way,” she said, stopping to look at the plastic brick. “What is this?”

“It’s a plastic brick that ended up in my bag somehow. Just don’t let it end up on the floor. They really hurt to step on.”

Zuna picked it up and examined it. “I thought it might be a magical totem or something, since you spent the weight to bring it here, although it is light.” She put it gingerly back down on the dresser and flopped onto the bottom bunk with a thud that Nita felt through the floor.

“Would you have time to show me around campus?” Nita asked. “I’ve been through the VR walkthrough, but it’s not the same.”

“Sure. What’s your major?”

“Engineering.”

“Then you’ll be spending a lot of time in the sciences building. We’ll start from there and finish up at the cafeteria. Dinner starts in an hour.”

Nita picked up the brick and put it in her pocket as she followed Zuna out of the room. As they walked through the campus, Nita saw what Zuna meant. Most of the students were elves, though a few dwarves, a halfling or two, a group of gnomes that stayed clumped together, and even a goblin passed them.

It was obvious to Nita that the other students gave Zuna a wide berth. Well, she won’t have to stick out on her own, Nita thought, I’ll stick out with her.

“Over there is the library,” Zuna said, pointing. “Behind us is the campus store. Bookstore on one side, gift store on the other. And now the important stop, the cafeteria.”

“Wait a minute,” Nita said. “I need to check on something in the store.”

“You already know which books you need?”

“No, something else.”

Nita left Zuna waiting outside the store while she went in and spoke with the gnome behind the counter. It took several minutes, and the exchange of a larger amount of cash than she’d expected before she returned to the waiting taurid.

They sat eating, others in the cafeteria avoiding their table and suddenly looking away whenever Nita turned their direction. “What’s up with—”

“Ignore them; I do.” Zuna put down her fork after having cleared her third plate. “Why did you come here for engineering, when you could’ve studied that at home for a lot less?”

“Ever since the gates opened, and magic started seeping into the world — my version of the world — I’ve wanted to know how it could be used in materials for engineering. Here, I can get that information, and get my hands on magical materials.” Nita shook her fork, made of a magical alloy that would hold food when desired, but cleaned and sterilized itself when placed down.

“What’s your major?” Nita asked. “I know there’s lots of elf, dwarf, human, and halfling mages and even some goblin, but I didn’t know there were taurid mages too.”

“There are,” Zuna said, “mostly raw shamanistic types, but I’m not one. I’m here because I switched from theoretical physics to theoretical magics. Very similar, but the maths are lot more complicated.”

They walked back to their room, without detours, and Zuna asked, “What were you ordering from the store?”

“A surprise,” she said. “Something that helped me make friends when I was a shy kid. I think you might enjoy it, and I suspect I already got at least one other group of students interested.”

“I’m not one to stress over surprises,” Zuna said, bending down to bring her eye-to-eye with Nita, “but it better not be a surprise party. I hate those.”

“It’s not. I promise.” Nita began to snicker. “But…now I know what to do for your birthday!”

Zuna snorted and began to laugh as well. “You really aren’t the least scared of me, are you?”

“Why should I be? You can’t even keep a straight face when you’re trying to be intimidating. Your little smirk gave you away.”

Over the following week, classes started and Nita and Zuna found themselves busy, but always made time to meet for dinner in the cafeteria. It was there that the gnome Nita had spoken to in the store came rushing in with a large box on a pushcart. Behind him followed the group of gnomes she’d seen traveling together her first day on campus.

The gnome pushing the cart was out of breath. “Your box just came, and your neighbors in the dorm said you were here.”

“You could’ve left it there,” Nita said with a wink. She noticed that the group of gnomes still hung back, but all eyes in the cafeteria were on her and Zuna.

“Yeah, but I…we wanted to see it.”

Nita cleared a space on the table and began removing the contents of the large box. Two sets of standard bricks, a set of motors, actuators, gears, belts, axles, wheels, hinges, and assorted parts for building working machines, and beneath that an architectural set of blocks.

“Come on, Zuna. Let’s build something.”

At first, Zuna just watched as Nita began putting together a working drawbridge spanning the table.

Zuna began fiddling with the pieces, opening the architectural set after Nita gave her the go-ahead, and started adding design elements to the structure. The gnomes gathered in closer and with a nod from Nita began chiming in and helping.

“If you use an actuator to move this section like that…” “We could increase clearance by putting the swing-arm…” “If we cantilever this section of the span, we can…”

During the build, Arrold, the gnome from the shop, wrote down orders for dozens of kits — including two for himself — as they all played with the bricks. When the lights dimmed, letting them know the cafeteria was closing, a collective groan went around the table.

Everyone that had been playing with the bricks, and even a few of the elves and others that had stood around watching, began to put all of them back into their respective boxes. Nita stood and raised a hand to stop everyone.

“I know people who like to keep their kits in the original box and separate, but I’m not one of those.” With that, she swept all the bricks on the table into the large shipping box. She noticed winces from some of those watching and thought, Yep, those are the ones that’ll keep them in the original boxes.

As she picked up the large box and Zuna picked up and smashed the kit boxes for recycling, Nita smiled and watched Zuna saying her goodbyes to the same students who had been too scared of her to even walk on the same side of the hallway.

“Bye, Arrold, Rin, Leelee, Violet, Tansy—”

“All the rest!” Tansy interrupted. “Can we do this again?”

“Oh, these are Nita’s blocks, you’d have to ask—”

“I already did. I just meant, will you be there too?”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

The little gnome leaned forward and grabbed Zuna’s leg in a hug, her face barely reaching the taurid’s hip. Zuna gave Tansy an awkward pat on the head.

Tansy let go and stepped back. “I’m sorry we were afraid of you. You’re a lot of fun!”

Zuna smiled. “Thank you, Tansy. See you around.”

Nita winked. “See you later, Short Stuff. Let’s go, Zuna. We’ve got to figure out what you’re going to wear when we go clubbing with the girls this weekend, and what kind of makeup to do.”

Zuna’s smiled dropped as confusion crossed her face. “Which girls?”

“Tansy, Violet, Leelee, April, and Yen and Tan, the twin elf girls that were watching. They said they all want to hang out with you, and I said I’d make it happen.”

Zuna looked at the boxes she was about to drop into the recycler. “To think, all that from some children’s blocks.”

“Bricks,” Nita corrected her, “and not just for children. It says, ‘Ages 4 to 3999’ right on the box.”

prompt: A journalist has been granted permission to visit the premises of a lab carrying out top-secret work. They could never have anticipated what they’d find…

available at Reedsy

Teryn looked at the drab, grey building hidden behind high fences. “Here we go again.”

“These so-called science stories are killing me.” Liz checked her camera equipment before hoisting the camera to her shoulder. “Oh, it’s a breakthrough,” she said in a mocking tone, “look, toast in sixty seconds.”

Teryn frowned. “At least your name isn’t attached to every one of these. As long as the network keeps sending me out to these nothing-burger stories, I’ll never get promoted. Always a junior producer, never a real science reporter.”

“Maybe there’s a story this time?”

“Yeah, Liz, and maybe I’m the queen of France.” Teryn looked at the camera operator. “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to cheer me up.”

“Exterior shots for B-roll finished, unless you want some more of the uh…is that astroturf or weirdly green grass?”

“It’s fine. If this is anything like the others, it’ll end up being a thirty-second piece to fill in between real stories.”

Liz let the camera down to hang by the straps that distributed its weight evenly over her shoulders. “Judging by the building, I’d guess we won’t get a PR person leading us around.”

“No ‘face’ then. So, what do you guess? Lab nerd or pasty, thirty-something founder that looks like he or she still lives in mom’s basement?”

The woman that came out the door at that moment to escort them in didn’t fit any of their categories. At barely five feet tall, her features were broad, her hair a curly mop of reddish blonde. Light blue eyes shone in her bronze face, enhanced by the deep blue of the skin-tight tee shirt that showed her strong arms.

Liz leaned over and whispered in Teryn’s ear, “I go to the gym, but god damn, she makes me feel like a slacker.”

“Head in the game, Liz. Get a shot of us meeting. For once, I won’t be the short one.”

The woman approached as Liz readied the camera. “Welcome to Avacorp, I am Jessica, and I will be your guide.” She shook hands with Teryn while Liz filmed, then turned to Liz and shook her hand as well.

As she led them in the door, she handed each of them a lanyard with a “Visitor” tag. “Sorry, you need to keep these visible at all times.” Three bored security guards sat in the bare entryway, only looking up long enough to see the tags, one of them giving Jessica a small wave.

“I think Alex has a little crush on me,” she confided to Teryn in a hushed voice.

Teryn kept looking at the guide. There was something…off about her. Some sort of genetic anomaly. It wasn’t anything like Down’s syndrome, but it was something. That, combined with the odd accent of swallowed r’s and lack of contractions left Teryn dying to ask a host of inappropriate questions.

Jessica smiled and winked at her. “I can tell you have questions about me. They will be answered in just a few moments. Please, ladies, follow me to the main lab.”

She placed her palm on a reader next to the elevator, which opened for her. Teryn took note of the high-tech biometric security in the midst of what was an otherwise unremarkable entryway within a drab building.

The elevator went down instead of up. It stopped on floor -9 and opened on a clinical-looking hallway. Jessica stepped out and led them to a door near the end of the hallway.

“Before we go in, I have to remind you that nothing you see or film in here is to be released until the fourth of next month; to coincide with our own public announcement.”

The lab was a cavernous space, one wall lined with banks of thrumming machines behind a glass wall. A monstrous coil of cables led from the machines to a device in a glass-enclosed, free-standing room in the center of the lab, surrounded with cameras and antennae of some sort.

A row of desks on the opposite wall held computers where men and women in casual clothes worked amid a constant, low murmur of conversation. It looked more like the office of an internet start-up than a science lab.

“Dr. Ball will be here soon to explain what this is.”

One of the techs behind the computers, dressed in cargo shorts and a faded band tee shirt, stood and started calling out a checklist in a nasal tone. “Spatial coordinates locked in?”

“Spatial coordinates locked in,” a tech replied in a booming basso.

“Temporal coordinate locked in?”

“Temporal coordinate locked,” another shouted with a thick, Spanish accent.

“Assist team, in the chamber.”

Two people in hazmat suits walked into the room with the device, closed the door with a hiss, and gave a thumbs up.

“Run decontamination in the chamber.”

A mist filled the chamber before being sucked out through vents in the floor. The two inside again gave a thumbs up.

“Decontamination complete. Spool up.”

“Spooling up,” a woman responded in a clear soprano, and the machines that thrummed behind the glass began to speed up their thrumming.

Jessica turned to Teryn, allowing Liz to continue filming the goings-on. “I just want to remind you, that Dr. Ball may decide some things are not to be released publicly.”

Teryn nodded. “I read the fine print before I signed the limited disclosure agreement. Are you the company’s legal advisor?”

Jessica laughed. “Hardly. I am Dr. Ball’s assistant. Which means I fetch coffee, file documents, categorize video, translate, and do some data entry.”

“Sounds like a rounded job. What was your major?”

“Major? Oh, no. I have not had any formal schooling. I am studying botany in my free time, though.” Jessica smiled but her eyes carried sadness. “Dr. Ball has been very good to me, since I cannot go back home.”

The thrum of the machines had grown into a whine that was felt more than heard. The woman that had called out last said, “Spooled up.”

The standing tech called out, “Spooled up. Call out levels stable post sixty seconds.”

She read off the countdown, not trying to carry her voice, but the clear, high pitch carried well in the room. Finally, she called, “Levels stable, seventy seconds and counting.”

“All silent. Initiate,” the standing tech called, a keyboard clicked once and, a swirling vortex appeared near the device in the center of the room-within-a-room.

As the smoky center of the vortex cleared, the space beyond it was woods, just near enough to see a small collection of skin shelters and stocky people wearing skins moving about.

“That was my home,” Jessica whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

Teryn looked again. They were Neanderthal. That was what she found odd about Jessica. Liz continued to film, though her hands shook.

Jessica stepped over to the camera and helped Liz steady her hand. Then, something that didn’t fit what they were seeing appeared.

A hand and forearm in a hazmat suit propped itself against the floor, as if climbing from some unseen point below the vortex. The assist team pulled the person in the hazmat suit up into the lab.

Once he was in and had stuck his head through it one last time, no doubt looking for anything he might have left behind, he stood and made a “kill” gesture. The vortex disappeared in a puff, the machines quickly went back to their low thrumming, and a cheer washed over the lab.

“Run decontamination in the chamber.” His shrill, nasal voice was perfect to cut through the din.

Once again, the chamber filled with mist which was then sucked out through the floor vents. All three inside the chamber gave a thumbs-up.

“Decontamination complete. Exit the chamber.”

The door to the chamber opened with a hiss and the three inside stepped out. The door closed behind them with another hiss, and they stripped out of their hazmat suits.

“Lockdown status.”

“Generators locked on standby.”

“Targeting locked on standby.”

“Chamber locked on secure standby.”

“Thanks, everyone.” The tech sat back down and slumped in his chair. Meanwhile, Dr. Ball, the one that the assist team had pulled out of the vortex walked to the desks. His dark hair was shoulder-length, with streaks of grey. His face had the lines and deep tan of a forty-something who spent many years outdoors, but he moved as though he was a decade younger than he looked.

“How did we do, team?” he asked. “Did we get all twelve cameras? How long did it take to calculate?”

“Got ’em all,” the nasal-voiced tech said, “and two weeks.”

“Great! In two weeks’ time, we’ll aim for group N1, same day, download only, and see what data we get, before we decide if we need to move and to where.” Before anyone could answer, he made his way over to Jessica, Teryn, and Liz.

“It is good to have you back, Dr. Ball,” Jessica said. “We missed you these past two weeks.”

“It’s okay, Jess, there’s no need for formalities right now. My name’s Mike,” he said, “and you must be Teryn. Sorry, they didn’t tell me what your camera operator’s name was.”

“I’m Liz, Dr. Ball.”

“Nice to meet you, Liz, just Mike, though. I’m only Dr. Ball when I’m giving a lecture.” He motioned toward the door. “Shall we go to my office to talk?”

He led them across the hall to a cramped office. A dry-erase board and map took up half the wall behind him, carefully sectioned into grids, and filled with dates and cryptic notes. He added the current date and the text, “N2: replace, zone A-19,” before turning around offering them a seat.

He sat behind his desk while Liz unfolded a tripod and set the camera up. Before she could give the go-ahead, Teryn jumped in with questions.

“Was that a time machine? Those were Neanderthals. Were those Neanderthal? And does that mean that Jessica is—”

“Teryn, if I may.” He leaned forward. “Yes, what you saw was a time machine. And yes, that was a Neanderthal group of thirty-seven called Falla-intes, which we call N2, in their summer hunting grounds. They’ll probably move again in a few weeks, their time. Based on past data, to either zone B-18,” he pointed to a section on the map, “or over to A-11. Those areas already have cameras, so it’s just a matter of connecting and downloading.”

“But…you were there for two weeks?”

“No, I was there for six hours. Just long enough to replace some dead cameras while staying hidden.” He sighed. “It took two weeks to calculate the exact spot in space to pick me up, 63,017 years, 147 days, and…roughly nine and half hours ago in what is now northern France. We’re working on getting the compute times down, but we don’t want to make a mistake and open a portal in the vacuum of space…or the bottom of the ocean.”

“Okay, now I need to get this cleared up. You built a time machine to record the lives of Neanderthals…and maybe dinosaurs?”

“The time machine is a means to an end. How do we move from archeological inference to the actual recording of history? We are historians, first and foremost.

“We’re currently following three groups of Neanderthals,” he said, “and we have plans for other historical periods. Going back millions of years for dinosaurs, though…the compute time goes from weeks into decades, and there are a lot of unknowns about changed trajectories via asteroids and so on.”

“That makes sense, I guess. What I don’t understand…at what point did you decide to kidnap Jessica and bring her 63,000 years into the future?”

Dr. Ball just raised his eyebrows and nodded at Jessica. She smiled at them from where she’d been standing off to the side.

“I was hunting, and got separated from my group, Falla-intes. I was going back to the camp to wait for them but was cornered by a boar.” She took a stance as though she was holding a spear.

“I tried to fight him off, but he gored me,” she raised her shirt and showed the massive scar on her abdomen. “I passed out from the pain and expected to be eaten. When I woke up, though, I saw the portal. I thought was this was my rebirth, returning to the womb, so I reached for it, and crawled through.”

Jessica chuckled. “I don’t know who was more scared…me or Mike. He made sure I got medical treatment, which included too many rounds of vaccinations and antibiotics to count. Nothing from then is dangerous to you now—”

“That we know of,” Dr. Ball interjected.

“Right…that we know of, but plenty of your germs now I had no immunity to.” She smiled at Dr. Ball. “He sat beside me, day and night for weeks, talking to me until I was well enough to walk around. By then, I had learned a few English words, and we talked all the time. It took me a few months to get to a basic conversational level, but by then I understood what Mike meant by ‘germs.’

“I decided it would be dangerous for me to go back to my people with modern germs, so I stayed. I have been here three years local time, and from the time you saw in the portal, I have been gone, dead according to them, for twelve years.”

Teryn’s eyes pooled with tears as she understood just how isolated Jessica was. Her family and everyone she’d known dead for tens of thousands of years, and yet close enough to touch on a regular basis.

She pulled herself together and continued with the spate of new questions that now rolled around in her head. Perhaps her physics minor wasn’t wasted after all.

They talked for over an hour, covering topics from the power supply, to the generation of the wormhole and its stability, to questions about the many-worlds interpretation and whether anything done in the past could change the present. On the latter, Dr. Ball was hesitant to say for certain, but he assured her that he did everything in his power to leave the past untouched other than the small cameras, easily hidden and recovered when they broke down or were no longer needed. He also assured her that no biological material was allowed to go through either direction, thanks to their decontamination protocols.

As they finished up, Dr. Ball leaned forward. “I want you to understand something,” he said. “You are never to reveal the truth about Jessica to anyone. If her image, voice, or even mention of her presence other than ‘lab assistant’ leaks from your report, I will take your network for everything they have.”

“We’ll delete the footage of her, and any mention of her in the interview before we leave. I mean, we signed the limited disclosure agreement, but aren’t you being a little harsh?”

Dr. Ball shook his head. “No. Jess is not going to end up an oddity for research and experimentation, and she’s certainly not going to be exploited for others to gawk at. As far as anyone outside this floor knows, she’s Jessica Smith, from Little Rock, Arkansas. She even has a driver’s license that says so. I’m already worried about her safety once we release the first sixteen years of the footage we have from the Falla-allas, Falla-intes, and Falla-eswa groups. Even though we’ve edited around her, someone might see the resemblance, and then she’d have to go into hiding.”

Teryn rose and gave Jessica a hug. “I’m so sorry you lost…everything. I won’t tell anyone about you, but Mike has my card, and if you ever want to talk…about anything, give me a call.”

“Thank you, Teryn, it was nice meeting you.” Her eyes still had that sad touch, that Teryn understood now. “I have not lost everything without gain, though. I have made friends and learned much.”

Once they’d left, Liz loaded the camera in the trunk of the car while Teryn’s mind whirled. Liz pulled her out of her reverie with a poke on the shoulder. “Maybe this is the story that gets you promoted. If not, you know of a living Neanderthal….”

“Not happening. She’s lost so much already, you want to take away her privacy, too?”

“I wasn’t being serious,” Liz said. “Just trying to get you out of your funk.”

“Not in a funk, I’m just wondering if anyone got written out of history, due to Jessica coming here. I mean, she might have survived.”

“Would we even notice?”

Teryn hummed. “Not likely. Wait, we know time travel exists, but no one showed up to Dr. Hawking’s Time Travelers Party. Ugh! I should’ve asked why not.”

prompt: Write a story that contains a flashback of a nightmare.

available at Reedsy

I flinched away from his touch. I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t help it.

“Again?” he asked. “Last night? Did you get any sleep after?”

I nodded to the first two and sighed at the last. “Sorry, Balan. Maybe I’m not ready for this.”

“No need to apologize. I understand that it isn’t easy and saying ‘Get over it’ helps no one.” He set down a mug of coffee near me, careful to maintain some distance.

He gave me a few moments before he asked, “Not ready for which this? Us…or…? I mean, if you need space I can move back in with my family—”

“No!” I was emphatic on this point, because it was the one thing I was certain of. “I need you around.”

“I’m here,” he said. “I’ve heard that talking about it can help. Whenever you want to, I’ll listen.”

“Thanks.” I checked the display on the control for the kitchenette. “If I don’t get moving now, I’ll be late.”

“I won’t say good luck, you don’t need it. You deserve the promotion. You’ve got this.” There was a certain mirthful certainty on his face; I was getting better at reading him.

The office was larger and more plush than I’d expected. It looked more like a nineteenth century drawing room than an office. All the high-tech bits had been tastefully hidden.

A small desk contained a keyboard on a pull-out drawer, which activated the holo display above it. The bookshelf contained a few real books along with files disguised as books that were locked to the shelf with my fingerprints or DNA or something I didn’t quite understand.

I sat at the desk and logged in, wishing I’d either gotten more sleep or drank more coffee. I considered calling Balan and asking him to bring me a pot of strong coffee but decided against it. There had to be coffee around here somewhere.

The holo display shut itself off when a knock came at the door; security measure, I guess. “It’s open, come in.” No sooner had I said it than my guts tied in knots at what was probably a huge breach of protocol.

The young woman that entered didn’t seem too put off by it. “Good morning, Ambassador McAllen. Melina of Aritoz, and I’ll be your aide here at the embassy.”

I stood and walked around the desk to properly greet her. “Pleased to meet you, Melina, and please, just call me Catherine…or Kate.” I held out a hand to shake hers.

Her hand was like Balan’s, a tough, leathery palm and fine scales on the back and the three long fingers. Her oval eyes were larger than his, their solid black unreadable. The ridges over her eyes and the corners of her mouth showed delight.

“Thank you, Catherine. I’m really excited for this opportunity, and I won’t let you down.” Concern crossed her face. “Did I do the handshake thing right? I’ve been practicing so I wouldn’t—”

“It was perfect.” I put my arms up, palms together, and she did the same. We touched forearms and leaned our foreheads together for a second.

I stood back and said, “I hope I did that right.”

Her eye ridges rose and her mouth opened in joy. “Perfect.” She gave a slight bow. “Is there anything I can do for you, Ambassa—Catherine?”

“Coffee. Where would I find it?”

“I can either bring you some, show you where the cafe is or bring in what we need to make you a pot here.” Her shoulders dropped and her eye ridges lowered in concern. “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought of that. I’ll make sure there’s a pot ready tomorrow morning.”

“No, no, that’s fine.” I sighed. “If I had a pot here every morning, I’d drink all of it and get nothing done while my head ran in circles all day. Why don’t we head to the cafe and have breakfast; my treat.”

The cafeteria was spacious, with the sort of bare aesthetic I expected of an embassy. I was surprised, however, at the way sound didn’t echo.

We had the option of filling trays from a buffet-style line or ordering a meal at the checkout. I opted for the second and ordered a doner kebab and chips, which I was surprised to see on the menu. Melina ordered something local that looked like scotch eggs until she cut into them, and I saw that the insides were made of some root vegetable.

We traded tastes of our dishes. Hers was tasty, with a hint of radish under multiple layers of umami and smoke. She didn’t seem too keen on the kebab but enjoyed the chips enough to help me finish them.

As we walked back to my office, I looked at her and the other Rellans. They had small scales that covered them from head to toe, a short, thick tail, four-digit hands and feet, large, black eyes with no visible pupil or sclera, ridges above their eyes, and the mixed teeth of omnivores.

In the daylight, I could look at them and understand that — looks aside — they would be classed as a mammal on Earth, not a reptile. Not only did they give live birth, have mammaries — both females and males — but they were warm-blooded with a normal temperature of 38.5 Celsius, well into fever range for a human.

Still, I’d heard more than one crude comment from men talking about “hot lizard-girls.” It wasn’t like women didn’t say things every bit as crude, but we at least have the decency to only say them in private…not in a crowded terminal.

“What are you thinking about, Catherine?”

Melina brought me out of my reverie, standing in front of my office. I didn’t know how long we’d been standing there. I opened the door and waved her in, closing the door behind myself.

“I’m not even sure,” I said. I sat at the desk. There was no work for me to do until after the formal introductions the following day. It was meant to be a day for me to settle into my office. I looked at Melina standing in the center of the room, as though waiting for something.

I moved to the sofa and offered her a place to sit. “You look like you have something on your mind,” I said.

“This may be…indelicate,” she said.

“I’ll keep it just between us girls.”

“Terran males keep approaching me, trying to interest me in…mating.”

I laughed. “If that’s their only goal, keep turning them down. If they only see you as an object of fetish, there’s no sense in bothering with them.”

We spent some time talking about the signs that a human was interested in more than her body, and I shared some rather scathing turndowns for those who weren’t.

Melina looked at me then, and then said, “Aren’t you living with a Rellan?”

“I am.”

“How…how did you know it wasn’t just a…fetish thing?” As soon as she’d asked her eye ridges squeezed together in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s a fair question. I wasn’t interested in him at all when we first met. Over time, though….”  I took a deep breath. “I keep having a nightmare, but I can’t talk to Balan about it, because I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“What is it?” She laid a hand on mine, the scales on the side of her thumb making brief contact with my wrist.

The scenes flashed through my mind again, and I forced myself not to jerk away. Balan stood before me, thousands of other Rellans behind him. He seemed far away, but he was close, and small.

All intelligence left his face as he dropped into a four-legged position and turned into a lizard along with all the other Rellans. They swarmed me, covering me. That was the point I usually woke up in a panic.

I’d explained it to Melina as I relived it, and she held onto my hand the whole time. When I finished and opened my eyes, her nictitating membrane was half-closed. I’d learned that was a response similar to tears for a human.

“I’m sorry, dear,” I said, “I didn’t mean to upset you. But you understand why I can’t tell Balan, right?”

She put a warm arm around my shoulders. “I think you should. If he cares about you as much as you obviously care about him, he’ll understand. But I have a question: Lizards are reptiles, so why lizards?”

“Display on,” I said. “Show a picture of an iguana.” The three-dimensional image hovered over my desk, and I shuddered. I went through the steps I’d worked on with my therapist to slow my breathing and take control of my panic response.

Melina said, “Display off,” but it didn’t respond. She moved herself between me and the display. “I can tell this bothers you. You should turn it off.”

“Display off. I’m much better than I was. It’s a phobia…an irrational fear of lizards. Snakes are fine…but put legs on them and they’re just…wrong. I went through a year of exposure therapy to prepare me for working in the Rellan embassy on Earth — Terra. And then another year working there, and getting close with Balan, before being assigned to Rell. I thought I was over it.” I sighed. “I didn’t start having nightmares until I moved here. Balan’s a huge relief, but it’s rough right now.”

“I don’t know if it would help, but the Terran-run exotic pet stores in the city carry waklas,” she tried to hide her disgust and failed. “Maybe having a small, furry animal close to hand….”

“I see you react the same way to them as Balan. Like lots of humans do toward reptiles.” I chuckled. “It doesn’t seem to carry over for Rellans — waklas to Terrans, that is, like it does for us as far as reptiles to Rellans.”

“Because you’re more like us than xots and greks and aniles and all the other waklas. They’re furry all over, have constantly growing teeth, and lay eggs that they abandon to their fate. And they’ll eat anything they can fit in their mouth or take a bite out of. My sister assures me that her captive-bred grek is gentle, but still hasn’t convinced me to hold it.”

“I won’t force a fuzzy animal on Balan, I care about him too much. Just like he turned down an offer for a pet monitor lizard while we were on Earth, although, he did react to it the way I tend to react to puppies and kittens.” I thought about it for a moment. “It probably wasn’t obtained legally anyway.”

We sat in silence for a while, her warm arm still around my shoulders. I looked over at her, noticing the feel of the scales of her arm against my neck as I turned my head. “Thanks, Melina. I think I will talk to Balan about it tonight.”

“That’s probably better than bringing home a wakla,” she said.

I laughed. “But they’re so cute…kind of like fluffy mice with bunny tails.”

She shuddered and pulled away. “Don’t be mean.”

I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “I won’t, Melina. I’ll never bring it up again unless you want to.”

“Thanks.”

“What do you say to taking the rest of the day off, and meeting here in the morning for breakfast before the formal introductions are made?”

“Sounds good,” she said. She crossed to the door and stopped. “If you don’t mind, I have one more question, though.”

“Sure.”

“What is exposure therapy?”

I smiled. “I promised not to talk about them, but if you want some exposure therapy, talk to your sister about her pet. Spend time around it…get used to being near it, then come talk to me about the next steps.”

“You mean you…?”

“Yeah. I held an iguana…for over an hour the last time while it slept on me, using me as a heat source.” I shrugged. “Like I said, I thought I was over it.”

prompt: Write a story about a stranger coming to town and shaking up the order of things.

available at Reedsy

The stranger walked into the edge of town on a dull, cloudy morning. A tall figure wearing a wide hat and wrapped in a blanket against the chill. Only their boots showed beneath the blanket. Not the flashy footwear of the wealthy, they were well-worn and practical work boots.

It was far too early in the morning for most of the town, so the only witnesses to the stranger’s arrival were the livestock in the pens near the road, and the innkeeper who happened to be outside to watch the sunrise and take a guess at the day’s weather.

He waved at the stranger then retreated into the inn as though he’d just decided that was a bad idea. Far too soon after he’d shut the door, the stranger opened it and walked in.

“I—I’m Heironymus, and this is my inn. Wo—would you be needing a room?”

Still hidden from view, the first thing the stranger uncovered was the star on their chest. After standing in silence for a moment, the stranger dropped the blanket to reveal her tall, thin form, her left hand returning a pistol to its holster.

“Good morning, Heironymus. I’m marshal Emma Collins, and I would very much like a room. Do you have anything long-term?” She removed her hat, freeing her inky-black hair to fall to her shoulders in unkempt waves.

Heironymus stared at the figure in front of him. “You don’t look like any marshal I’ve ever seen.”

Emma snapped her fingers and pointed to her face where piercing light-brown eyes shone against the deep bronze of her skin. “My eyes are up here. And do you have a long-term room?”

“I’m sure we can find something.” He flipped through the book on the desk in front of him while he hemmed and hawed.

“You know I can see that there’s nothing in your reservations book, right? And I see eleven keys on the wall behind you and only two empty hooks.”

He closed the book and attempted a smile that was wholly out of place on his face. “I can give you a suite with an attached bath for,” he seemed to think on it, “twenty-two a week.”

“You wouldn’t be trying to rip off a marshal, would you?” She leaned over the desk, her height imposing.

“I—It’s not that. I’m just trying to work out a rate that’s—”

“Fifteen a week,” she said, “and breakfast every morning, since you’re up early.” She pointed at the sign behind him. “That’s nearly double your usual rate.”

“Right, right.” He grabbed a key from the top row of the hooks and fumbled it for a moment before managing to set it on the counter. “Top floor, furthest on the end, faces the mountains.”

Emma picked up the key and laid down a stack of cash. “Here’s thirty for two weeks. If I’ll be here longer, I’ll pay up before then.”

Heironymus gave a slight bow before scooping up the bills and stuffing them into the small drawer under the counter. “I don’t have any breakfast for today, but if you need I can—”

“That’s fine. I’ll get some sleep this morning and take a walk around later this afternoon.”

“And your bags?” he asked, looking around her feet where only a blanket lay.

“Another marshal will be bringing those by this evening.”

“Wi—will they be needing a room, too?”

“Nope. Just me. He’ll drop my bag off and continue on his way. I just wanted to get here early.”

Emma picked up the blanket and walked up the stairs to the third floor where she found her room. She folded the blanket and laid it on the foot of the bed, pulled a folding brush out of a side pocket and tamed her hair in front of the small mirror in the bath.

She removed her duty belt and laid it on the bed next to where she lay, the pistol in reach of her left hand, her boots atop her folded blanket. Emma closed her eyes and took a nap. By the time she woke, her arrival should be all over town. The innkeeper seemed the nervous sort that would squawk to everyone about his unexpected guest. Good, she thought, let them squirm. As she dozed off, she wondered if Heironymus was in on it.

She woke with a chill. The room was cooler than she preferred, and with the south-facing window got no sun. She hoped she’d packed some warm clothes, but with nothing to be done for it at the moment, she strapped on her duty belt, checked the seven-pointed star on her left breast, put on her hat, and walked out of the inn.

The town was small and quiet. There was one place to eat that doubled as a saloon in the evenings, and she made her way there. The conversations that wove around and through each other fell silent as she entered.

She removed her hat and sat at a table farthest from the door. After a round of silent stares from everyone in the now library-silent room, a short waitress approached.

“What can I get for you?”

“Whatever the special of the day is, and do you have orange juice or lemonade?”

“We don’t have anything like that.”

“Water is fine,” she said. She looked around and saw plates piled with meat and bread. Fine for the locals, she thought, but it’s a good thing I packed a bunch of vitamins.

She ate her meal in silence, seemingly ignoring the stares of the locals. In truth, she was looking for the sort of nervous behavior that might mark one or more of them as being her target.

A couple of locals near the door caught her attention. Rather than openly staring, they went back to their meal as if nothing unusual was happening before they walked out.

Emma watched them walk out, past the windows going the opposite direction of the inn. They turned down an alley and out of view. On a hunch, Emma walked to the front of the dining room and watched through the window where she caught sight of them walking toward the inn on the next street over.

She sat back down and finished her meal before motioning for the waitress. “Who were those two that left?” she asked.

“Elian and Caliaphas. They mostly keep to themselves,” the waitress said, “unless they’re deman—asking for something.”

Emma nodded. “Thanks.” She laid two bills on the table and stood.

“That’s too much.”

“That’s for the meal, the service, and the information.” Emma winked. “Keep it.”

She returned to the inn where the previously empty hooks held keys. She didn’t see Heironymus anywhere, but figured he had other things to do.

The sound of the buggy trundling up to the inn brought her back into the moment, and she stepped outside to meet her fellow marshal and get her bags.

“Hey, Balian, how was the trip?”

“Bumpy, dusty, long. What time did you get in?”

“Around sunrise.”

“Anyone ever tell you, you walk too fast?”

Emma laughed. “You. All the time.”

Balian struggled with her bags, letting them fall to the ground with a thud. “Why did you pack so much?”

“It’s cold. Plus, I don’t know when I’ll be able to re-supply, so I’ve got a bunch of ammo and first-aid supplies, too.” She easily lifted both bags and turned toward the inn. “Did you want to come in and rest for a bit? It’s not much….”

“Not unless you changed your mind about backup.”

Emma chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I saw a footpath leading off the road last night, a couple klicks back.”

“That must be where the two locals were going. Why were they in a hurry?”

She nodded toward the inn. “They were staying here. I’m guessing they didn’t like having a marshal staying down the hall from them.”

“Did you get names?”

“Caliaphas and Elian.”

“I’ll pass that on up the chain, see what we can connect them to.”

“I’m betting they’re involved in the freight hijackings…and they’re certainly armed. Locals seem spooked by them.”

“Oh, I put the keys to the marshal’s office and cells in the smaller bag; the one you loaded up for war. Sometimes I wonder about you people….”

She paused and turned back to fully face the other marshal. “You people?!”

“Sorry, you know what I mean. Just be careful. There’s no wire here, so no way to call for help.”

Emma smiled. “I’ve got it. Besides, they’ve never seen a marshal like me.”

Balian snorted. “They’ve never seen an anything like you.”

After unpacking, Emma assembled the carbine that had been packed with her clothes and loaded all the carbine magazines and pistol magazines she had.

She made sure she had two pairs of cuffs, six magazines for the carbine, and four magazines for the pistol, her cuff key, and a dozen or so zip cuffs. She tightened her duty belt and rapped on the breastplate of the armor under her uniform.

She thought about wrapping up in the blanket again, but her height would give her away anyway. For now, she was going to have to play it by ear.

Arriving at the bottom of the stairs she found Heironymus, his left arm in a sling, the left side of his face swollen. He flinched away from her as she approached.

“It’s okay, Heironymus. I take it Elian and Caliaphas did this?”

His voice was a weak whisper. “Caliaphas. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t the one that called the marshals. Elian just watched and laughed.”

“Did they say anything else?”

“They’re coming back in after dark tonight. I have to let them in your room.”

Emma laughed. “I love it when they make my job easy. Listen, Heironymus, I’m going to go make sure the cells are ready for them. You do exactly what they tell you to when they get here, but don’t tell them you talked to me. You avoided me, right?”

The innkeeper nodded. “If they knew, they’d kill me.”

“That won’t be a problem after tonight.”

Emma walked through the town to the marshal’s office, all eyes on her fully armed and combat-ready form. She let herself into the office, the dust of long abandonment on every surface. She made sure the cells closed and locked properly, shook out the meager bedding and re-folded it.

That done, she walked back to the saloon and ordered a plate to go. She took her food with her to the inn and settled into her room.

It was in the early morning hours, her blanket around her shoulders keeping her warm when she heard her door unlock. Caliaphas was the first one in, as evidenced by the fact he was right-handed and the other was, like herself, left-handed.

Once Caliaphas was inside, Elian followed. They both raised pistols and emptied them into the figure on the bed. Elian moved toward the bed and Emma stood, dropped the blanket and kicked the door shut from where she’d sat behind it.

“You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of a marshal. Drop your weapons and put your hands out to the side.”

Elian started to turn around and Emma fired a round from her carbine past his ear. “You don’t want to do that.”

Caliaphas dropped his weapon and held his arms out. Elian seemed to be trying to decide his next move.

“If you want to die, just do anything other than dropping your weapon. Same amount of paperwork either way.”

Elian’s shoulders relaxed and he dropped his pistol. Emma kept her carbine pointed at them as she approached and cuffed them, Elian first.

After getting them into the cells, filling out her paperwork and giving the office a quick dusting, the sun began to rise. “You gentlemen will be transferred to the city in a couple days,” she said. “Until then, make yourselves comfortable.”

She walked back to the saloon and found Heironymus ordering her breakfast. “Thanks,” she said, “I’ll just eat it here.”

A crowd began to assemble in the dining room, word seeming to spread about the arrest. When she felt there were enough people around to make it worthwhile, she stopped eating her breakfast and stood.

“Listen up,” she said. “The Marshal Service has decided that the frontier has been without full-time law enforcement for too long. That changes now. I’m the permanent marshal assigned to your town, and I won’t stand by while hijackers use this place as a hideout.”

Someone from the crowd called out, “But, you’re a….”

Emma’s right eyebrow rose. “I’m a marshal. You were saying?”

Heironymus slammed his tail down on the wooden floor. Despite his wounds and swollen face, he spoke loud and clear enough for everyone to hear. “Yes, she’s a human. Probably the first ever in this backwashed part of space, but she’s a marshal. Besides, she put Elian behind bars without any trouble.”

“Thank you, Heironymus. By the way, tell me how much it’ll cost to replace the bedding and towels those idiots shot up, and I’ll get the Marshal Service to pay you for it.”

He started to think when she leaned down to eye-level, staring into his compound eyes. “Just the actual replacement cost…plus, say, ten percent for the hassle.”

“Of course,” he said, “you’ve saved me from letting out two suites for free.”

“If anyone has any questions, find me in the marshal’s office or around town. If there’s a problem, same, except you can get me any time of night in the inn. Third floor, last room.”

With that, she sat back down to finish her breakfast. Unlike the previous day, conversations began again in the dining room, rising to an almost raucous level. Emma smiled. “I think I’m going to like it here.”