Writing Prompt I: "I saw him. The boy I had to kill" (pt. 2)

The police have my ship. Police was human for law enforcer. Even on my planet outright murder was wrong and that is exactly how they would see my presence on their planet as. They would not see it as a necessary killing to save billions of lives. And I was an “alien.” I had scoffed at the term when I heard it while watching one of the research recordings. I had assumed it was the human word for the specific slim-covered creature that kept eating people on the ship but I had eventually learned it was their word for any being not from their planet. And one of the research recordings said that the humans had a group whose job was to hunt down aliens and dissect them.

Abruptly, my strength drained away. I slouched against the window but knew I had to find a secluded spot to recharge. I stumbled away with my hand against the wall until I found a narrow alley between the buildings. It did not smell the best, but it was the closest place I felt safe enough to power-down the few minutes it would take. I hoped I was not infected with an Earth disease. I was needing to recharge more frequently here than I ever have at home. I could usually go nearly an Earth week on one charge whereas I have had to recharge at least twice a day since I arrived. I hoped it was the atmosphere or maintaining the disguise that was causing it.

I crawled into a small space between two large, smelly, metal containers and rested against the wall. I pulled up my pant leg to get to the chargecell strapped to my ankle. I pulled the retractable cord out and plugged it into the port disguised as a human belly button.

Oodenites are Carbon-based beings, but we rely on artificial energy the way humans rely on food. We have also been able to mechanically modify ourselves to make us more adaptable to the changing atmosphere on Ooden and neighboring planets. My disguise is an artificial case around my body created by my mechanic modifications but it acts and reacts like real human flesh.

Even though I had been in it since I left Ooden, I was still caught off guard when it did something human, like sneezing the other day. Or when I accidently slammed one of my fingers in a door, water immediately started leaking from my eyes. According to one of the research recordings, that was what crying was and “real men don’t cry.” Since I was attempting to pass myself off as a real human male, I tried to staunch the water coming from my eyes. It was surprisingly difficult to do with the pain radiating from my finger.

Once my power was back up to optimum level, I returned to the problem of my missing tracking device. I know I had it in my pocket the last time I powered-down. It might have fallen out of my pocket when I climbed out of the hole I had fallen into this morning in my energy-deprived stupor.

I crawled out from behind the metal boxes and ran right into a pair of legs in blue pants. I looked up to see two males standing over me. Something told me they were not friendly.

“Hello,” I managed to say as I got to my feet. “How can I help of you?”

“What’re you doing back there?” The smaller of the two asked.

“I was resting short. Not a wondrous place to do such a thing but ‘twas convenient and my needs were urgently.”

The males wore twin expressions conveying some emotion I was not familiar with. Their eyes were wide and their brows were furrowed.

“If I can do nothing you to help with, I will be away. Good today.” I bowed as I had seen the Bringer do and started down the alley away from them. I paused when I remembered what some humans had said to their friends when leaving in the research recordings. I turned and held up two fingers tilted to the side. “Later bitches.”

Their eyes widened even more and the larger one’s mouth dropped open. “Freaking alien,” one of them said.

I spun around. “Oh, no. I am not alien. I was born here. On Earth. In… France. Yes. France.” I cringed and ran the rest of the way out of the alley. “Idiot.” I wound my way through the crowd, hoping the two males did not follow me and made my way back to the hole I had recharged in earlier. There were five males walking around it wearing orange items on their heads. I quickly dropped into it and searched around for the small metal case but did not find it. I climbed the ladder and got away before the orange males stopped me.

“Cutpurse.” The word floated through my mind. I had heard it in one of the research recordings. It had been one of the few that did not have colors. Only black and white. I did not like it as much as the ones in color, but the word had been for a male who stole items from people’s pockets. That must have been what happened to my tracker.

I was just about done with this planet. Nothing but rude humans, bad smells, and lost possessions. I simply needed to find the Bringer one more time, kill him, and go home.

I turned a corner too quickly, trapped in my own thoughts, and ran headlong into the larger of the two males who had stopped me in the alley. “Excuse my clumsy ass, sir. Apologies.” I attempted to step around them but he grabbed my arm. The smaller one took my other arm and they dragged me into an alley, this one somehow smellier than the last. They released me and the larger male shoved me against the wall.

The smaller male put his face in mine, his nose nearly touching mine. “Hello, freak. We think you might have something worth something and we want it."

To be continued...

Writing Prompt I: "I saw him. The boy I had to kill" (pt. 1)

A few weeks ago, my writer's group decided to start giving out writing prompts at the end of our meetings as an exercise for us to work on until our next meeting, then we share what we have written. 

It has been a fun activity for everybody and many of us (myself included) are stepping out of our comfort zones. Our poet is writing fantasy, the fantasy writer is writing family drama, and our sci-fi writer is writing comedy.

I want to share some of the short stories I have come up with. The following is the first part of a short sci-fi story I wrote. It is my first foray into sci-fi so, please be kind.

From Alibaba.com
Phasers to stun, please!

Then I saw him. The boy I had to kill. He didn’t look like much, but boy was I wrong.

He was the Bringer. The one prophesized to bring the end of life on Oonden, my home planet and the center of the Kaliege Empire. If Oonden fell, the rest of our galaxy would fall.

He must be stopped.

When my father had been killed, I was transferred to fill his spot in Xans, the Empire’s elite fighters and assassins. They were big shoes to fill and I had hoped, with enough time and training, I would fit into them as if they were made for me.

I was unprepared, to say the least, when my name had been chosen for this mission. I was the youngest member of my unit and the greenest assassin in the Agency, but if I made the kill without too much trouble, it would do amazing things for my career.

The council had objected to someone so inexperienced taking on such an important job, but rules were rules. The one chosen by the Gods was the one sent. It took me almost three months to get to Earth, even in the Agency’s fastest ship. Why the Supreme Being would chose a tiny planet ruled by self-destructive creatures in a distant, sparsely populated galaxy in the gerlac’s anus of the universe to put the Bringer, I will never know.

The boy turned to glance behind him and I quickly ducked behind a vehicle. Then cursed myself for a fool. He had never seen me before and I had been here for nearly a week in disguise. Nobody had questioned it.

But today was the first time I had actually seen him and my nerves got the best of me. I pretended to tie my shoe like I had seen in many of the research chips sent with me to study on the trip. I much enjoyed the ones about beings with superior abilities who destroy cities in their quest to save the cities. Their flawed logic is very humorous to me.

I waited until I was sure the boy was not looking, then stood, only to discover he had disappeared.

“Dammit.” I cursed, taking a bit of pleasure in the harsh human word. I pushed through the crowd, hoping to spot which direction the Bringer had gone but could not see him in the sea of humans that filled the sidewalk. “Dammit!”

“Language, young man!” A tiny, wrinkly, female human scolded me and slapped my arm as she passed me.

I stared after her, shocked and angry that she would dare touch me but also that she had been the first human to address me in the open like that. Apparently, they could talk to strangers, they just chose to pay more attention to their hand-held communication devices than others of their kind. A male about the same age as my disguise bumped into me from behind and barely looked at me as he passed. I wondered if the wires going into his ears were some kind of mind control or if they helped him navigate the maze of streets that I had been hopelessly lost in for the last month. I had seen many people with the same wires but was nowhere nearer to the answer.

It was days like this that I wished I had been able to stay in the research division of the Agency instead of being moved to Xans, then I’d be allowed to investigate what the purpose of the wires was (among other curious things humans did), but instead, I had to hunt down the Bringer again and finally kill him.

I pulled his picture up on my own communication device. He was approximately twenty Earth years old, 1.8 meters tall, black hair, brown skin, green eyes, but otherwise looked like nearly every other human I had encountered. In the picture I had, he was wearing a red object on his head that resembled what Earth females wear on their heads while bathing.

The Agency had no information about him other than the city he resided in and his appearance. Others in Xans had completed missions with less, but I was intelligent enough to know that their own experiences played a large part in their success.

I glanced around again and randomly picked a direction, hoping it was the right one.

It was not. I spent two more days circling the area before I found him again.

He was just exiting a shop filled with brightly colored items and strong smells that mingled until they were unidentifiable and made me sneeze. A reaction that caught me completely by surprise. Apparently my disguise was more human-like than I thought.

The Bringer bowed to the old female who had followed him to the entryway, then started down the street away from me.

Very curious that such a powerful being would show reverence to a female who did not seem to be anything other than a regular human.

I commenced following the Bringer with the beginnings of a plan forming in my mind. I would get close enough to put a tracker on him so I could follow him to a less populated area to kill him. I did not want to kill him in the midst of a crowd. If a human attempted to halt my departure, it would be very bad for us both. My transcarrier could only send one Oodenite at a time. If any more than one or any other species attempted to use it, they would be disintegrated. It could only be used once in this atmosphere and it was my last option if anything bad were to happen.

My plan was to kill the Bringer and use it to get back to my ship, which seemed to have gone missing. It was not in the large grassy area where I had left it a few days ago, but thankfully I did not have to know where my ship was for my transcarrier to work.

I was within feet of him and reached into the pocket of my human pants for the case that held my tracking devices. My hand only felt fabric. I stopped in my tracks, earning myself a shove and a few rude comments from the humans disrupted by my deviation from the norm. I dug deeper into my pocket. Then I checked my other pockets. My communications device and my weapon were where they were supposed to be, but my tracker was gone. I knew it had been in my pocket a few hours ago because I had checked to make sure the power source was holding up to this atmosphere. In a panic, I felt under my shirt to make sure my transcarrier was still on the chain around my neck. I sighed with relief when my hand closed around it.

I looked up and the Bringer was gone again. “Dammit!”

“Language!” A male in dark blue clothing with a metal plate on the left breast and a hat scolded me.

“Apologies.” I waved at him, the action still awkward for me. Only the rudest of Oodenites would make such a gesture but the humans seemed to like it.

I slowly joined the crowd moving in the direction the Bringer had gone. I scanned the shops along the walk, hoping to catch sight of him again.

A picture flashing across a screen in one of the shops made me stop and move closer. It was a picture of my ship. “Dammit,” I whispered as the implant in my head translated the words that scroll across the bottom of the screen.

Diane: What appears to be a space ship has been discovered in Franklin Park. The police are investigating what they are calling either an extravagant prank or an abandoned film prop. They are encouraging anybody with information about it to contact the 800 number on the screen. At this time, it is unclear if or what charges will be pressed. The Captain ended his statement with “we really just want to make sure that the owner gets their obviously expensive item returned to them.”

          The police have my ship.

To be continued...

View From the Cab

For today's blog, I wanted to share something special with you. My dad, Rich, is a railroader and sometimes shares his thoughts and musings from his trips on the train with the rest of the family. I always look forward to his "View from the cab" emails because they are so full of his voice and so true to him that it is like he is sitting next to me telling me about his trip. He might not be a writer by trade, but he knows how to inject his voice into anything he writes, even simple emails.

From my sister's Facebook page and no, you're not getting the link.
My Mom and Dad. Aren't they adorable?!

View from the cab.

We all know that rain and water are one of the necessities of life. It is a given that we in the Midwest experience thunderstorms and occasional super cell storms that produce rain, tornadoes, and hail.

Hail is the topic of this rambling.  

Headed west out of North Platte, the first town we come to is Hershey. Some damage, corn leaves are split and torn up. Next is Sutherland. This is another story. Early this summer a storm came through with wind from the north. Damage was extensive: windows, roofs, siding, cars, trees, etc.  Talked to one fellow, he had over $30,000 damage to his house. From the track and my view, not a lot to see, saw some trees uprooted, limbs down and minor crop damage.  Heading further west we come to Paxton, Roscoe, Ogallala, Brule, Big Springs; crops look good, no damage. Life is good.

Next up is Julesburg. We enter the town from east and here, the track leaves the friendly grade of the South Platte River, takes a right turn, and begins the climb to Cheyenne 150 miles away.  At the end of June, a storm went though and turned pastures to bare ground, fire bush and sunflowers to sticks, waist high corn reduced to stubble, and soy beans fields turns to bare ground. (Katherine you know what this looks like from a couple years ago in Gibbon.) The trees were stripped of leaves and have not yet grown any new leaves back. Cedar trees and pine trees were stripped of needles and are about bare. Some trees appear to be dying, nor sure if any of the damaged ones will recover. All last winter and this spring, we saw pheasants galore, not now. Those too, were likely victims of the hail. There is a small subdivision of acreages in this area; windows are boarded up, roofs to be replace, sheds damages, and of course shelter belts thinned. I was through this area the day after the storm and had not yet heard of the damage. 

Picture from NTV
This was a cornfield of knee- to waist-high corn that was stripped in the hail
storm that hit the town I live in two years ago. It shredded siding, shattered windows,
flattened crops, and uprooted trees. It was heartbreaking to see the damage.

You stare out the window in disbelief as to what you are seeing and say a prayer for the folks affected and one for yourself that we had been spared. A couple miles either way, and crops look great. One man's disaster is another's gift.

The next hundred miles or so, life is good. Between irrigation and rains, pastures are green, corn, beans, and sugar beets are lush and bountiful. The further west you go, the climate becomes drier, the soil’s less productive, you begin to see an increase in winter wheat, sugar beets, hay, and pasture land. 

Pine Bluff, Wyoming, sits right on the Nebraska border. As a matter of fact, there is an old truck stop on Highway 30 that sits on the line. Interestingly, there were 4 fuel pumps in Nebraska and 5 feet away, 10 in Wyoming. A tribute to the higher fuel taxes here [in Nebraska]. The same cannot be said today; fuel is higher in Wyoming.

I felt a bit of apprehension as we approached Pine Bluff this week. After seeing the Weather Channel video of the devastation, I did not know what to expect. Interestingly enough, the wind on this storm was from the south and the majority of the town is south of the tracks. We saw several buildings with a lot of damage, but not the devastation I expected to see. The head high corn was reduced to broom handles, pasture reduced to bare ground, alfalfa ready to cut now looks like it was harvested. Fortunately, the majority of the wheat was already cut and thus, was spared. Pine Bluff gets its name from the pine trees on the bluff that overlook the town. These trees had a lot of damage and were thinned just like the ones in Julesburg.  

Surreal, I guess, is the poets’ and writers’ term to describe when you see this type of devastation. Awe at Mother Nature’s power and feelings of loss in the pit of your stomach would better fit my background and understanding.

With a month or so to go in the growing season, let's all hope and pray that the rain is gentle and abundant, and those affected by this summer’s storms can find the hope and strength to move forward. Say a prayer for their well-being and a pray of thanksgiving for the blessings we have all received this summer.