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I looked up from my T'mirak rice to see a rather petite Vulcan ensign pulling out the chair facing mine. I looked around to see if there was a crowd gathering, because I figured it was a joke. (And don’t tell me Vulcans don’t like jokes. I spent a year on that ship. Vulcans like jokes as much as humans do. Difference is, human jokes are funny sometimes. Vulcan jokes are just mean.)
I looked at the eleven empty seats at my table, then looked back at her. “You want to eat with me?” (Sorry. Being shunned for so long had atrophied my social skills.)
“If you will permit it, yes.” She said, with a smile. I gasped. It had been so long since I had seen anybody smile. It seemed to be too good to be true, so I was feeling a little suspicious.
“I think there’s room for you…Please join me.” I gestured towards the chair in front of me, trying to remember how to be gracious.
“Thank you. I think this an excellent opportunity for us to get to know each other.”
“Yeah.” I said, leaning back and crossing my arms, “And why would you want to do that?”
“It’s only logical.” She said, putting her tray down. “We’re going to be roommates.”
#
“Why? Are you being punished?” I asked her.
“Not at all. I requested you. I mean, I requested the room assignment.”
“Okay, why?” The idea of somebody wanting to be near me was pretty foreign to me at the time.
“I’m doing this tour as a preparation for my graduate studies.” She said. “I intend to make my career in the diplomatic corps. To do so, I need to understand humans. Living with you will provide an opportunity to study one up close.”
“Oh. Well, that makes sense. I’ll try to be a good… object of study.” I said, stammering a bit.
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” She told me, digging into her salad.

#
“Welcome to your new home, Roomie.” I was actually warming up to the idea. Having somebody to talk to was kind of amazing after not having it for so long. I rushed in to get my laundry off her bed.
She started unpacking, so I went and took a shower and got into my jammies. I brushed my teeth, and stepped back out of the bathroom. She was standing by her bed, naked as the day she was born. She had the most perfect body I had ever seen, thin and lithe, a ballerina’s body.
“Wha… Oh!” I said inarticulately.
She looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, does nudity make you uncomfortable?”
“No, don’t be silly.” It was making me horny, which is totally different. “This is your home now. You should be comfortable.”
“I should also be considerate. I was going to put this on anyway.” She put on a silk chemise. She looked lovely in it. “Good night, Ellen”, she said.
So we got in our beds and turned off the lights. It was a long night for me.
.

Blog KenGreen

#
T’Hann was on a different work detail, but we took our meal breaks together. It was nice, it gave me something to look forward to. And after dinner, we would go back to our quarters and I would teach her about humans. It was fun, because she was such an eager student. Besides, she was cute. One evening, she said to me, “Ellen, there’s another human behavior I’d like you to teach me about.”
“Yeah, okay. What behavior?” I asked.
“I wish to learn about hugging.”
“What? Okay,” I smiled, and held my arms out. “Get over here, Hanni.” (Yeah, I had given her a pet name. She really liked that.)
Shyly, she came to me.
“Right, you just put your arms around me, and I’ll wrap mine around you, like a big old mama bear.” Did I mention she was cute?
She rested her head against my shoulder. “This is…pleasant.” She whispered.
“Sure it is. Everybody likes a good hug.” She felt so tiny and warm in my arms. It was sweet.
“I can hear your heart beating.” She whispered.
“Yeah, well, that’s all there is to hugging. Now we release, and…” She didn’t.
“I don’t know why my people don’t do this. This is wonderful.” She said.
“Yeah. Hanni, the thing about hugging is, it usually doesn’t last this long. So if you could just let go…”
Vulcans are stronger than they look. Her grip told me we weren’t going anywhere.
“Or,” I said, “We can do this a little bit longer, I guess…”
“Yes, please.” She whispered, “A little longer.” And then she sighed, and kind of melted into me. She shuddered, and my shoulder felt wet.
“Hanni?” I whispered, “Are you crying?”
“Don’t be absurd, human. Vulcans don’t cry.”
Sure they don’t. I held her, as she gently sobbed. I stroked her coal-black hair, and gently rocked her. “It’s okay, Hanni. You can cry if you want. Let it all out.” (I don’t even know what I was reassuring her for. It just seemed like the right thing to do.)
After a while, my feet started to hurt. So I kind of maneuvered her to the couch, and managed to sit down. She curled up with her head on my shoulder and fell asleep. I pulled a cover over her and sat there stroking her hair till I fell asleep, too.
#.

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When I woke up the next morning, she was already gone. I took a quick shower, and put on a fresh uniform. I met her in the mess hall, eating breakfast at our table.
“I wish to apologize for my behavior last night.” She said.
“There’s no need to, Hanni. It’s okay to have feelings.”
“But to express them…” She looked down and stirred her cereal. “Is this what it is like to be human? To have all these confusing feelings?”
“Yeah, sometimes. But it’s okay.” It broke my heart to see her like that. She seemed so small, so vulnerable, and so troubled. She was trying not to show it, but I was learning to see through that Vulcan veneer. I wanted to reach over and touch her, just to reassure her.
But people were already looking at us, and I didn’t want to cause trouble.
In the following evenings, there was a lot more hugging. It seemed silly, but she really seemed to need it. We would sit on the couch and talk, sometimes we would hold hands, and sometimes we would even snuggle up in bed together. (I know. I’m stupid. I give people what they want, because I need them to like me. What are you, my therapist?)
But we were careful in public. We knew we couldn’t touch, or act silly, or do any of the hundreds of things I ached to do whenever we passed each other in the corridors. Sometimes we could sneak a smile at each other when nobody was looking.

Page 14 Blog KenGreen

Hanni was on special assignment that day, so I was eating lunch alone. Sla’Vek came to my table. “What are you doing to T’Hann?” he demanded.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to…Sir.” I was in a dangerous mood.
“T’Hann came to this ship with an excellent service record. Since she’s been rooming with you, her efficiency has dropped. You are obviously responsible.”
I pointed my soup spoon at him. “Do you realize that you have just committed a logical fallacy?”
A hush fell over the room. Every other conversation stopped.
“What did you say?” He asked.
“You see a correlation, and you deduced causation. Any first year student of logic can tell you that correlation does not imply causation. In simple terms, just because one event proceeds another, we cannot assume the first event is the cause of the second. If a farmer wakes up one morning to find one of his cows dead, and it rains later in the day, we cannot conclude that dead cows cause rain. It’s a very human error.” (And my argument was utter nonsense. But my audacity in making it had caught him off guard.)
Somebody actually dropped a spoon at that point.
Sla’Vek was speechless. He just turned around and walked away. I leaned back in my chair and looked at all the faces staring at me. And I saw something I had never seen in a Vulcan’s face. It was awe. I gave them my sweetest smile, and went back to eating my Bertakk soup.
I had beaten up the school bully. With a sucker punch.

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At dinner, I told Hanni all about my big victory. She was not amused.
“Lower your voice.” She said sternly, “What you did today was reckless. You have made a powerful enemy.”
“He was already my enemy.” I said, a bit miffed, “He hated me the moment he first saw me.”
She looked at me with condescending eyes. “Vulcans do not hate.”
Yeah, right, Hanni. Vulcans don’t hate. And don’t they cling to you like a frightened kitten, or cry all over your tits, or fart in their sleep. Let me write that all down, so I don’t forget it again. Because I’m a stupid human.
“Can’t you be just a little bit proud of me?” I asked.
“Drawing attention to yourself like that… is vulgar.”
I raised my hand to slam it on the table, realized what I was doing, and stopped myself. I took a deep breath, took a moment, and whispered. “I draw attention to myself just by being here.” I hissed, “Everything I do or say is scrutinized, observed, and commented on. Ever since I’ve boarded this ship, I have done everything I can to blend in. And your people have done nothing but remind me that I’m not one of them, and that I am not welcome. I can’t even walk down a corridor without feeling their disapproval…”
Hanni crossed her arms and cocked her head, which really pissed me off, because I had taught her that gesture. “Now you’re just being irrational.”
“Well, I’m just an irrational human!” I stood up, knocking my chair over, and stormed out. Screw her and all the rest of them.
#
I was getting ready for bed when she came to the room. I stood there in my jammies, waiting for her to say something.
“Ellen,” she started, “I see that I’ve upset you. Perhaps we should hug.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“Perhaps human emotions are more subtle than I realized…”
“Human emotions?” I shouted, “You want to know about human emotions? Fine!” I rushed to her, pulled her to me, and held her tight.
Frightened, she asked me, “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you how to be human.” I said. I tilted her head and kissed her hard. It was a hungry, angry kiss. At first she resisted, but she let out a moan and surrendered to it. Horrified at what I was doing, I let her go. She staggered back a step. “Oh Hanni, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I’m not.” She said, after she caught her breath. “Do that again.”
“Really?” I said.
She took a step forward, and reached up to cradle my head in her hands, looking at me in wonder. “Really,” she said. Then she pulled me to her. Her lips grazed mine, and she shuddered. “Perhaps we are not so different.” She whispered, and kissed me softly. I felt her hand on the back of my neck. Her fingers traced a path to my shoulder, then to my chest. “Your heart.” She said. “It’s beating so fast.” She drew a breath and said, “Ellen, please teach me how to make love.”
At that moment, I felt like I had no more free will than a salmon swimming upstream. Or an asteroid plummeting into the sun. I took her hand, and walked her to the bed. I slipped the straps of her chemise off her shoulders. She shrugged, and it fell to the floor.
She lifted the hem of my jammies top, and I pulled it over my head and let it fall to the floor. She raised her hands to cup my breasts.
“I’m going to need bigger hands.” She whispered.
“No. You’re perfect.” I said, and started kissing her neck.
We fell to the bed and explored each other’s bodies with our lips, tongues, and fingers. We did lots of sexy stuff, and we both came till out comers were sore. Then we pulled the covers up and laid there staring at the ceiling.
“That was a bad idea.” I said.
“You’re absolutely right.” She said.
“We can’t do this.” I said.
“No, we can’t.” She said.
“But we’re going to anyway, aren’t we?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” She said.
We settled into a happy routine. During the day, we went to our separate work assignments, meet for meals, and make polite conversation. But after dinner, we would return to our room and make love till we were exhausted, and sleep I each other’s arms. It was our own tiny lesbian paradise.
Until, of course, the night it all fell apart.
I woke up in the middle of the night, and got up to pee. I noticed Hanni wasn’t in the bed. I walked to the bathroom, and I could hear her voice through the door.
“The project is proceeding according to plan. The subject suspects nothing. I recommend we go to the next stage.”
I slammed the panel to open the door. Light flooded the bathroom. “And what stage would THAT be?” I demanded.
Hanni was sitting on the toilet, dictating into her data pad. She turned her eyes to me. “Oh, no.” she said in her flat voice. “Busted. Is that the correct idiom?”
“What is going on here?” I asked, “Who are you?”
She batted her eyes, and said, “Why, I’m your sweet little Hanni, you silly thing!”
And I hauled back my fist, and punched her as hard as I could, in the middle of her face.
Well, that’s what I had intended to do.
What actually happened was this: I stepped forward, tried to hit her, and, faster than I can describe it, she stood up, sidestepped me, got behind me, pinned me against the wall, and got me in an arm lock, using her crazy Vulcan kung fu skills I didn’t know she had. But at least I didn’t need to pee anymore.

“Let’s save the gymnastics for the bedroom, shall we?” she whispered in my ear. “My real name is T’Shan, of Vulcan High Command, intelligence division. Major T’Shan, actually. So feel free to salute me from now on.”
“The hell I will,” I said, talking into the wall, “Do you intend to let go of me, Major?”
“If I do, will you behave yourself?” she asked.
“Yes mam.” She could have broken my arm if she wanted to. I knew I was beat.
I turned around and sagged to the floor. “Please. Just tell me what’s happening?”
She sat back down. “I’m a spy. I’ve been recruiting you.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. Human and Vulcans are allies. Allies don’t spy on each other.”
“My sweet, naïve girl. Of course we do. That’s how we keep each other in check.”
“Okay, but why me? I’m nobody.”
“You are so much more than you think you are.” She tousled my hair. “And with my help, you’re going to have an amazing career. I have it all planned out.”
“Well, if I’m so special, why do I need you?” I said, “Who’s to say I won’t have an amazing career by my own efforts?
She sighed. “I didn’t want to do this.” She touched the screen on her pad to bring up a different page, and started reading aloud, “…although the cadet shows boundless enthusiasm, and an almost pathetic desire to please others, she lacks the will to stand up for herself, and will go to absurd lengths to avoid confrontation. Therefore, I cannot recommend her for a career path in the command branch. She may serve well in a technical capacity, but I cannot foresee her advancing beyond a mid-level position. It’s almost a pity that she has done as well as she has in the academy. She seems more suited to a position in the hospitality industry. Or child care. I would not hesitate to hire her as a nanny.” She paused and laid the pad on the counter. “That was from your academy evaluation. That’s what your own people think of you. These people aren’t going to help you succeed. They won’t even permit you to try.”
I was defeated. There was nothing left in me. I was nothing. “I’m pathetic.” I said.
“Oh, give yourself credit. His exact words were, ‘almost pathetic’.”
“I hate you.” I said, without feeling.
“No, you don’t.” She said.
She was right. I didn’t hate her. I was too busy hating myself. I sat, trying not to cry.
“I know this is hard to accept…” She touched my shoulder.
“GET AWAYFROM ME!” I screamed at her, half standing up, backing away from her till I backed myself into a corner. And I screamed and I cursed her, again and again, and she just sat there and took it, unflinching and patient, and that made it worse, and I screamed some more till my throat was raw, and the waterworks started, and I just fell into a heaving, sobbing, crying heap of despair.
And she just waited for me to cry myself out. She didn’t say a word. For all I know, she was taking notes.
Finally, when I was out of tears, and out of snot, and out of the energy to continue, I asked her, “Why? Why does it have to be like this?”
“Because,” she said, in her maddeningly calm, even voice, “This… federation that we’re building, is being conceived by idealists. But it will be administered by realists. It has to be, or it will never succeed. And it has to succeed. For the good of us all.”
I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “I won’t do anything to hurt people.” I said.
“You will be part of the glue that keeps this alliance together. You’ll be saving people. Both mine and yours.”
“By being a traitor?” I asked her.
“You are going to be a savior.”
I didn’t want to look at her anymore, so I stared at the ceiling. That didn’t help either.
“And what if I refuse? Are you going to mind wipe me, make me forget any of this happened? Because I’d really like that.”
“A mind wipe doesn’t work that way. It takes away a lot more than it leaves.” She picked up the pad, and started reading, “Although Ensign Carter showed great initial promise, she has suffered a complete mental breakdown, and is now in a permanent psychotic state. Despite our best efforts, she shows no signs of recovery. It is recommended that she be put in a medical coma, as that seems to be the only humane choice.” She put the tablet down. “Don’t make me do that to you.”
“Why don’t you just kill me?” I asked.
“Because I made a terrible mistake. While I was dragging you into my trap, I fell into yours. I actually do love you.”
“You love me. “I laughed.
“I do” She said.
“And why would I believe anything you have to say?” I asked her.
“Because you need to.” She told me. And she was right. And I knew she was right, and I hated her for it, and I hated myself for needing her to love me.
“Hey,” she said, patting her knee, “Get over here.”
“I don’t want to.” I said, lying.
“Yes, you do.” She said. She was right. Even after all she had done, all I wanted was for her to love me.
I leaned over, rested my head on her thigh. She started stroking my hair.
“What will I have to do” I asked.
“You’ll just be passing information to us. Banal, routine things, mostly. Just helping us keep an eye on things. Nothing dramatic. It’s not like the holodramas. We’re just keeping the federation on an even keel.”
“When do we start?” I asked, and that was the moment I became a traitor to humanity.
“Oh, you’ll finish your tour, get a glowing review that I’ve already written, and then back to San Diego to wait for your next posting. Your handler will contact you there.”
“We won’t be working together?” I asked, a little saddened.
“No, I’ll be watching your career from afar, pulling strings at times. But we’ll see each other off and on. And know this: if anybody ever hurts you, they will die a millimeter at a time.”
“That’s… the most romantic and terrifying thing anybody has ever said to me.”
“Nothing’s too good for my baby. Now come up here and give Mama a smile.”
I got up on my knees, but I didn’t smile. She kissed me on the forehead. It wasn’t a sexy kiss, it was like a blessing kiss.
“Oh. And one more thing.” She said.
“Yes?”
“Every seven years, you and I have a standing date. It’ll take about a week of your time. And that’s non-negotiable.”
“Why? What happens every seven years?” I asked.
“I’ll explain it when the time comes.”

End.

KenGreen Blog

Here is this week's story. It's too log to post in one go, so I split it up:

ENCOUNTER AT DUMBPOINT -Part One
By Ken Green
Ensign Ellen Carter sat at her workstation aboard the Vasco de Gama, and peered intently at the screen, her pretty brow furrowed in concentration.
“Golly,” she muttered under her breath, “Sudoku is really hard.”
“Carter!” Lieutenant Hayes barked at her as he entered the linguistics lab, “You have a mission. Get your ass to the briefing room.”
“Yes, sir!” she called out with her annoying, cheerful enthusiasm, as she stood, smoothing the hem of her red StarForce uniform minidress. She quickly closed the Netflix tab, then took a moment to check herself out. Glancing down, she noted that her StarForce go-go boots were polished to a high shine. If she stood just right, she could just see the reflection of her endearing young charms.
A mission! How exciting! I probably should be wearing underwear. Too bad it’s laundry day.
A quick glance aft told her that the seams on her hose were straight. Looking to the front, she noted that the twins were up and proud: she had a nice rack, and StarForce led the galaxy in bra technology. She stole a glance at her reflection in the monitor. Her hair was a glorious cascade of fiery Irish curls.
“Today, Ensign?” Hayes growled.
“Right behind you, sir!” she sing-songed, rushing to catch up with him. Their boots echoed in the dingy corridor. Soon they arrived in the briefing room. Carter was surprised to see T’Haan, her best friend, already there. T’Haan was looking fab, her blue StarForce minidress complementing her lovely café au lait complexion and her coal-black shiny hair. T’Haan had the petite, lithe body of a ballet dancer, and beneath that cool, intellectual façade beat a passionate heart.
“Right, you lot, listen up,” Captain Wassim said, “We’re making a whistle stop at this Podunk planet called…” he consulted his data pad, “Lozenge 03372. They’re petitioning for membership in the Codominion, and we need to send down a delegation, so you’re it.”
“But, sir,” T’Haan objected, “This is a diplomatic mission. Carter and I are the most junior members of the crew, and are completely unqualified. Why would you send us?”
“Because it sounds really boring, and I don’t want to do it. I hate hobnobbing with locals. So get down there, smile and nod, look pretty, and let them show you their farm tractors or whatever they’re so proud of. With any luck, there will be a buffet. Get out of here.”
“Smile and nod,” Carter smiled, nodding, “I think I can remember that.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Hayes growled, leading the way to the shuttle.
They shuttled down to the planet, and were ushered to a big tacky reception hall. As predicted, there was a buffet. The girls quickly grabbed plates and descended on the feast.
“Golly,” Carter said, “Look at all this kooky food. I want to try everything!”
“I wonder if any of this is Vegan food,” T’Haan said.
“Vegan?” Carter asked, puzzled, “I thought you were Sophian.”
“I am Sophian. I was born on Sophia. But I only eat Vegan food.”
“Oh, I get it,” Carter smiled and nodded, “Veganism is a religion!”
“Yeah,” T’Haan nodded, “Pretty much.”
Carter piled a mound of quasishrimp on her plate.
“The only thing that would make this better,” she said, “Would be a chocolate fountain. I love a good chocolate fountain.”
Behind her, a chocolate fountain binged into existence.
“Did you hear something?” Carter asked.
“Yeah. A tiny, bell-like, ‘Bing’ sound,” T’Haan said, “I figured it came from you.”
“Why would I go ‘Bing’?”
“I have no idea. You’re always saying weird things. I mostly tune you out.”
Carter grumbled and turned back to the buffet. She was delighted to see the newly formed fountain, and eagerly ladled sweet, sticky syrup all over her quasishrimp.
“Go easy on that, Sweetie, leave some for everybody else,” T’Haan cautioned.
“Hey,” Carter said, her pretty brow furrowed, “Was this fountain here earlier? Like, a minute ago?”
“It had to have been. Things don’t just Bing into existence.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Carter tried one of her chocolate-cover quasishrimp, “Oh, my gosh, this is so good. You have to try this.” She held one out for T’Haan to sample.
“No, thanks,” T’Haan declined, “I’d rather have some nice, simple tamrack soup.
Right before their eyes, a huge steaming tureen of hot, steaming tamrack soup appeared. Bing.
“Okay,” T’Haan said, “Did you see that?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s just weird.” T’Haan turned to her datapad and brought up the tricorder app, “Quick, wish for something else.”
“I don’t want to seem greedy,” Carter said, greedily cramming quasishrimp into her mouth.
“Dammit, woman, this is science. Ask for something.”
Carter chewed and thought.
“Some strawberries and cocktail sauce would be nice…”
Bing. A generous bowl of strawberries, smothered in cocktail sauce appeared.
“This is the best planet ever!”
“Just as I suspected,” T’Haan said, peering intently as her pad, “As the item appeared, I read an enormous discharge of energy.”
“Neat,” Carter said, “But how does the soup taste?”
“What difference does that make?” T’Haan asked, “The important thing is…”
“Blah, blah, science, science. Try the soup. It’s impolite not to.”
“Fine,” T’Haan ladled soup into a bowl, blew on it, and tasted.
“Oh,” she said, in a distant voice, “Oh, by the stars and heavens,” she stared at the bowl in disbelief, tears in her eyes, “That…is the most perfect tamrack soup I’ve ever tasted.”
“Wow, that must be some amazing soup,” Cater stuck her finger in it and stuck it in her mouth, looked puzzled, then frowned, “That’s cream of celery.”
“Yes,” T’Haan said, her eyes dreamy, “So good…”
“You are so weird.”
“You don’t understand. This is the taste of my childhood. Running home from school, climbing the steps to my hab unit, the smell of tamrack soup coming from the kitchen. I would run to the kitchen, and my nana would scoop me up in her arms, and I would bury my face in her shoulder. In those moments, I felt so warm, so safe, so utterly loved. Love just poured out of her like light from a star, engulfing me, filling me with its warmth…”
“If she had put some paprika and maybe a little oregano in this, it would have really good,” Carter said.
T’Haan held up a hand. “Carter, please. Do me a favor. Just don’t talk for a few minutes. Let me savor this memory.” She closed her eyes and turned away.
“Yeah, okay,” Carter went back to her strawberry cocktail, lifting the bowl to her face and pretty much making out with it, finishing by licking the bowl. Then she switched back to the chocolate quasishrimp sundae, and made it a menage a trois.
T’Haan wiped her eyes and turned back in time to witness the appalling spectacle. She took a deep breath.
“Carter, I’d to perform another experiment.”
“Okay,” Carter said, throwing the bowl over her shoulder, “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to wish for a nonfood item,” T’Haan did stuff with her pad, “I’m configuring this to get a directional reading on the energy discharge. So wish for a warm, wet, towel.”
“Why would I wish for…”
“Because you need one. Just do it already.”
“Fine,” Carter held her hands out to the empty air, “I wish I had a warm, wet towel.”
A warm, wet towel binged into existence and fell into her hands.
“Got it,” T’Haan said, gazing at her screen, “Whatever is doing this is directly below us. Five meters below us.”
“That’s great,” Carter said, holding the towel, “What do I do with this?”
“Hand it to me.”
She did.
T’Haan wiped the chocolate and cocktail sauce off Carter’s face.
“Honestly, Woman, I can’t take you anywhere,” she gently scolded, “Now show me your piggies.”
Carter held her hands up, and T’Haan wiped them clean.
“So what do we do now?” Carter asked.
“We’d better find the lieutenant, and tell him something weird is going on.”
They tracked down the lieutenant. He was still hobbing and nobbing with the bigwigs. They had fixed him up with a brace of very expensive looking floozies who were pouring champagne or something like it down him.
“Lieutenant,” T’Haan interrupted.
“Oh,” he said, annoyed, “What do you two want?”
One of the floozies looked speculatively at Carter. Carter pooched her lips out and threw her an air kiss.
“I’ve detected some large energy discharges stemming from…”
“Oh, gross! I don’t want to hear about your lady problems, I’m negotiating a trade deal here! Go away.”
“But, Sir…”
“I mean it, Ensign. Whatever you have going on down there, I expect you to take care of it yourself. Show some initiative.”
T’Haan sighed and turned away.
“Well, you heard the man. We’re on our own.”
“Good,” Carter said, “He’s dead weight anyway, Let’s go find some stairs to the basement.”
They wandered around till the found a door. On it, a sign read:
BASEMENT ACCESS
AUTHORIZED PERSONELL ONLY
“Is it locked?” T’Haan asked.
Carter tried it. It was.
“Well, that’s that. We tried. Back to the party, I guess.” T’Haan turned away.
“Wait,” Carter said, “That is not it. We’re StarForce officers, and that means we don’t give up. There’s a mystery on the other side of that door, and I’m going to solve it.”
“Yeah? How are you going to do that?”
“The way I do everything. With style, poise, and a little gentle brutality.” She squared up in front of the door and adjusted her boobs.

KenGreen Blog - Page 14

Encounter at Dumbpoint-part two.

“Okay, door,” she said, “We can do this the easy way, or…” She leaned back, snapped her thigh up, and launched her foot into the door. The corridor echoed with the mighty impact. The door did not fly open. Carter wound up on her back, looking at the ceiling.
“Ow. I am killed,” she lamented.
T’Haan brought up the diagnostic app on her pad. She scanned her crewmate.
“Nope,” she said, “You still live.”
“I think I broke my foot.”
Scan, scan, scan.
“You did not. Get up, you slacker. You’re embarrassing me. Even more than usual.”
Carter stood.
“Perhaps we should try a different tactic,” she said, “Oh! I’ll wish the door open. I wish this door would open for me.”
It did not.
“Hmm. That’s interesting,” T’Haan said, peering at her pad, “I registered a charge building up, but it seemed to short out or something. All our successful wishes have been for objects. Try wishing for a key.”
“Good idea.” Carter held out her hand. “I wish for a key that will unlock this door.”
No dice.
“There it is,” T’Haan said, again staring at the screen, “Something is interfering with the process.”
“Can I help you two ladies?” asked the maintenance guy who had happened by.
“Why, yes,” Carter said, smiling her big, big smile, “My sexy friend and I would like to go to the basement, for completely innocent purposes. So if you could just open that door for us, we’d be very grateful.”
“Yeah, right,” he said, “Why would I do that?”
“Well, maybe if you opened the door, we could all go in, and you and me could have a little fun together.”
T’Haan rolled her eyes and quietly stepped behind the maintenance guy.
“Yeah,” he said, and then I might get fired, and I’d get to go home and tell my wife how much fun I had getting fired today. Take a hike, Lady.”
“But,” Carter protested, “I’d let you touch my boobs…”
T’Haan rabbit punched him and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
“What did you do that for? I almost had him.” Carter asked.
“When is your birthday?” T’Haan asked, “I just decided to buy you some dignity. ‘I’ll let you touch my boobs.’ What is wrong with you, Carter?” She went through his pockets and found the key.
“Stop being so mean. I was improvising.”
“Is that what you call it? Grab his ankles so we can drag him in.” T’Haan unlocked the door, and they began their descent.
#
“Holy petunias,” T’Haan swore (It means something completely different in Sophian), “What is that thing?”
In the basement they found an enormous sphere of pseudo-liquid suspended in midair. Glowing, swirling, streaky multicolored pseudo-liquid, held in place by high voltage electro-probes.
“I think that’s the wish machine,” Carter said.
“It looks like a giant booger,” T’Haan observed.
A pseudotentacle extruded toward them, and form itself into an approximation of a face.
“I am not a machine, and I am not a booger. What you see is the merest fraction of my being, that protrudes into your limited three dimensional space.”
As it spoke, the electro-probes discharged intermittently, sending lightning bolts through the massive volume of space snot.
Despite the torment, the giant not-booger continued to speak.
“I came to this planet on an errand of mercy. From N-space, my home dimension, I noticed the planets mantle becoming unstable. I knew the inhabitants of this word were doomed, unless I worked quickly. I stabilized the planet, but doing so nearly killed me. I lay broken and drained, too weak to move. Left alone I could have regained my strength and healed. But the residents of this planet had seen my power and desired it. So they built this prison for me. I have been their slave ever since.”
“But…” Carter cried out, “That’s horrible! We must set you free!” She rushed to the control panel.
“Wait, Carter,” T’Haan said, “We can’t do this, we don’t have the authority. This is interference with a planet’s culture, and we have rules about that.”
“Rules, shmules, Haan. This is wrong. All thinking, feeling, sentient creatures deserve to be free, even the icky and gross ones.” She reached for the big-ass lever labeled,
Do not pull this lever, because it will free the giant space booger.
She pulled it. The restraining fields dropped, the electro-probes fell silent. The space booger formed itself into a roughly bipedal figure and stood before them.
“Thank you, Carter. As your reward, I shall grant you a final wish, and allow you to escape before I wreak my vengeance upon this planet.”
“Vengeance?” Carter gasped, “What kind of vengeance?”
“The people of this planet imprisoned and tortured me. I shall repay them with interest. They will all die screaming. But you will be spared. Now name your reward, whether it be immortality, a planet of solid gold, a diamond the size of a star. Now that I am free, nothing is beyond my power.
“I can have anything I want?” Carter asked.
“Anything. But decide quickly. I must have my vengeance.”
“I wish for forgiveness, then. Not for me, but for the people of this planet. I ask that you leave in peace, and let them live.”
“I cannot do that. They have hurt me greatly.”
“Yes, and hurting them must seem like justice. But I beg you, let your justice be tempered with mercy.”
I cannot. Their crime is too great. They all must die.”
“If that is the case, then kill me too. Kill me first. Look into my eyes, know my soul, and destroy me.”
“Why do you ask this? What have these people ever done for you?”
“Not a damned thing,” Carter answered.
“They why are you trying to save them?”
“I’m not,” Carter said, “I’m trying to save you. You came here on an errand of mercy. You have goodness in you. Don’t let the actions of cruel and greedy men destroy that goodness. Show them that you are stronger. Show them that they have not won. Show them that they could not break you.”
Space Not-Booger stood, its not-body clenched in indecision. It threw back its not-head and howled its frustration. Then it became calm.
“Very well, Carter. Your wish is granted. I shall spare this planet.” It folded itself into N-space, and was gone.
T’Haan gazed at Carter in awe.
“That was a beautiful thing you did,” she said, “I am so hot for you right now.”
Carter frowned, “I can never tell when you’re kidding, and when you aren’t.”
“I imagine that must be terribly confusing for you,” T’Haan turned toward the stairs, “Let’s get back to the party.”
Upstairs, people were running and screaming.
“What’s going on?” Carter asked a passer-by, one of the floozies. Curiously, she was naked.
“Everything is falling apart!” the floozy cried out, “All over the world, buildings are falling, power outages, things are disappearing, even my dress!”
“Huh,” T’Haan said, “That’s weird.”
The floozy ran off.
“Golly,” Carter said, “It seems that Space Not-Booger was doing a lot of things for these people.”
“Yes,” T’Haan said, “We should get back to the ship before they figure out what happened, and lynch us.”
“Good idea. Let’s go find the lieutenant.”
“Carter! T’Haan!” Lieutenant caught up with them, “Where have you two been?”
“We were in a broom closet, making out.” T’Haan said.
“That figures. Well, need to get out of here. This place is going to hell. Wait. Did you two have anything to do with this?”
“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carter said, “We were too busy having our sexy, steamy make out session. For all we know, this is all your fault.”
“My fault?” he asked, in a panic, “This isn’t my fault!”
“Well,” T’Haan said, “I believe you, Lieutenant, but who knows what the panicking locals will believe? We should hurry to the shuttle.”
They ran the rest of the way.
#
Captain paced the debriefing room.
“How could this happen?” he asked, “When we arrived, this planet had an advanced civilization, and a thriving economy. With the space of an hour, it’s collapsed to the stone age.”
“Is it really that surprising, Sir?” T’Haan offered, “After all, Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle tells us that to observe an event must inevitably alter its outcome.”
“Sure, but that’s quantum mechanics. It can’t explain events on this large a scale.”
“You’re right, of course, Sir. This must all just a cosmic coincidence.”
“Yeah, I guess it must be. Still, it’s a hell of a tragedy. It just serves to underline the importance of the first principle.”
“Yes,” T’Haan agreed, nodding sagely, “Noninterference is the best possible policy. Don’t you agree, Carter?”
Carter looked up from her datapad in a panic.
“Huh? What? I wasn’t playing Sudoku!” she exclaimed.
End.

KenGreen Blog Public Member Blogs - Page 14

PROTECTOR
By Ken Green
“Rargh!” the hideous space monster rarghed, as it flailed against the invisible force cage it was trapped in.
“Okay, Jeeves,” I asked my brainbug, “What is it?”
“It’s class seven demonoid, employed by the Zargonian alliance,” said the voice in my head.
A very angry class seven demonoid. It had figured out that the young woman it had been trying to beat to death was actually a mechanical decoy, programmed to emit Chloe’s psionic signature. I had planted the decoy deep in Blackwood Forest, far from the eyes of local law enforcement. It’s for their own good. They would only get hurt, and that wouldn’t help anybody.
“Class seven, huh?” I don’t really need to speak out loud to ask Jeeves questions, but it’s a habit I’ve gotten into, “Is it from the future?”
“That information is classified, and you don’t need to know,” Jeeves scolded.
“Fine. Is it immune to buckshot?”
“It is not,” Jeeves said, “However…”
“Good. Then drop the force field.” I lifted my shotgun and sighted it.
Seeing what that thing had done to Chloe, even though it was just a Chloe decoy, made me want to kill it. More than that, it made me want to hurt it. A lot.
The field dropped. The demonoid ran at me. I fired the shotgun. A hideous wound appeared on the creature’s chest, and still it ran at me. I fired again. The buckshot tore away a huge chunk of its shoulder away, at still it came at me. I fired at its face, destroying its eyes, and still it ran at me. I fired point-blank and barely avoided being trampled as it brushed past me, slammed into an ancient oak tree, and fell.
“You said it wasn’t immune to buckshot,” I accused Jeeves.
“It isn’t,” he informed me, “However, it is highly resistant.”
“Great. Thanks for sharing that information. It is dead now?”
“It is not. You should attend to that in a timely manner.”
Good advice. I levered its mouth open with the shotgun barrel and fired another shell, hoping to sever its spinal cord, assuming it had one.
“How about now?” I asked.
“Yes, Daniel, you got him,” Jeeves said, using my cover name. He usually doesn’t do that.
“Great. Tell orbital we need a priority extraction. We don’t want some hunter finding the body.”
The decoy site was protected by a disorientation field, but no system is perfect, and there’s no point in taking chances. Chloe is a high priority protection case, for reasons I’m not allowed to know. Maybe her future grandchild will invent something important.
I went to the cage area and picked up the Chloe decoy. Seeing the damage the demonoid had done made me want to go kill it some more, which is a bad sign. The first rule of protectors is not to get emotionally involved, and that’s the first rule I broke. The ethics committee will be very unhappy when they learn that I married her. Who am I kidding? They probably already know. They’re from the future.
I repaired the damage that I could and sat her down on with her back braced against a tree.
“Good job, soldier. You’re keeping my girl safe,” I told Decoy Chloe, and saluted her, knowing that Jeeves was recording the whole thing. That will do wonders for my psych evaluation. I stepped out of the cage area and reset the trigger, then reloaded the shotgun and stashed it in a disguised weapon locker.
I walked the long walk back to my truck. Sheriff Long was waiting for me.
“What were you doing in those woods?” he asked me, more out of habit than curiosity.
“Taking a walk, clearing my head.” I said, with a smile.
When I first arrived in Podunk, I bought my truck with a large stack of cash. Rookie mistake. Word got around, and Long has been suspicious of me ever since.
He looked into my eyes.
“If I was to take a mosey into them woods, would I happen to find a meth lab?” he asked me.
“Only if it had a box of doughnuts taped to it, you fat bastard,” Jeeves chirped in my head. It was really hard not to laugh at that.
“I don’t know,” I said, “Why don’t you go find out?”
He glanced down at my muddy boots, and at his clean ones.
“Whatever,” he said, “You just keep your nose clean. I’m watching you.”
“Well, thanks for keeping me safe, then.” I smiled and got into my truck. My phone rang. It was Chloe.
“What’s up, Chloe?” I asked.
“Danny, come quick!” Chloe was frantic, “Somebody is trying to get in the house!”
I dropped the phone and stomped on the gas. The trucks big hemi roared in protest. I had told the salesman I needed the biggest, heaviest, fastest thing he could get me, and he sold me a Dodge Ram with some kind of performance package. I hoped it was enough. StarCorps regulations limit field agents to locally available weapons and equipment.
Tires screeched and hydrocarbons died as I rushed home.
Two Calamarians were trying to batter the front door open.