Great Hites # 53

Download



Congratulations to Norval Joe who won this week's voting.

Ashley Redden
Norval Joe
Mick Bordet
And Jeff Hite



Troll
By: Ashley Redden
1. Interview

Sheriff Davis recognized them right off, FBI agents. The dark off-the-rack suits, sunglasses and everyday all American hero type looks nailed them to a tee. But, hell, anyone could have guessed who these two were. They looked as if someone had dropped two young men into a couple of FBI molds and out stepped two iconic special agents, it was almost comical.
He watched as they stopped the first deputy they met, that would be Strauss, a good man if a bit slow on the uptake sometimes. The sheriff watched as both agents flashed their IDs, and asked a question of the deputy. He saw both agents dark glasses follow Strauss’ outstretched finger as it pointed unerringly at Sheriff Davis.
Sheriff Davis sighed and slightly shook his head as he watched both agents stride purposefully across the room leaving Deputy Strauss with his mouth open, finger still at point. He very seriously doubted that any good whatsoever would come of these two getting involved, but his people had hit a dead end. At this point in the investigation, he really had no choice.
The two agents stopped directly in front of the sheriff and went to pull out their brass. Sheriff Davis waved an age spotted hand and said, “Don’t bother.”
Both agents stopped, frozen with their respective right hands half inside their suit top, like something off a bad TV drama. The sheriff’s lip twitched but he held himself in check. Laughing, whether meaning well or not, would certainly not be appreciated by these two. Not that he cared much what they thought, but a little innocent giggle here might cause him problems he didn’t need later. He squinted his eyes instead and wondered where the hell the agent’s task force was. Two more guys weren’t going to help much in finding those lost scientists. Out loud he said, “I’m sheriff Hank Davis, but I guess my deputy already told you that much, you here for the missing scientists?” Both agents nodded and Davis continued saying simply, “How can I help you?”
The agents removed their hands and the lead agent said,” We’re from the FBI. I’m special agent Briggs and this is special agent Stratton.”
This time the sheriff did laugh, but Briggs and Stratton didn’t miss a beat.
“We need to have a word with the survivor of the attack. We would also appreciate access the crime scene as well. Please make available any evidence that you might have acquired during the investigation so far. Also, we expect any evidence gathered from now on, no matter how small, to be made available to our organization at the quickest convenience.”
The sheriff noticed that they didn’t say that any evidence they obtained would be made available to his people, but hell, these guys were the pros. Davis said, “You two mind if I have a look at those ID badges?” He waited a beat and added, “because of the names and all.”
Both agents withdrew their IDs and held them out for inspection. As the sheriff peered at one, then the other, Stratton said, “due to the sensitive nature of our work and the personnel with which we sometimes meet, the given names of our branch operatives are confidential.”
“Well, we did call you guys, but I was expecting a little better turn out. No offense, but just two agents to help find these guys seems a bit thin to me,” answered Davis leaning back after inspecting the proffered identification. Sure enough they read special agent Briggs and special agent Stratton. Sheriff Davis shook his head and wondered to himself, you’d think they could think up something better than a lawnmower engine for names. Out loud he said, “Branch of the FBI? What branch would that be?”
“Classified,” said the agent called Briggs wearing a thin smile. “We’re here to aid in the investigation not run a search party. If and when more help to look for the PhD’s is needed, we’ll call them in on our discretion.”
“Okay,” said Davis and sighed anew. He continued, “We called Jake back this morning; he’s over in the waiting room on the right.” All three law enforcement officers began walking to a closed nondescript wooden door.
When they stopped at the door, agent Briggs said, “We would like to speak with the witness, Mr. Martin or rather Jake you say, if that would be acceptable?”
“Sure,” answered the sheriff. “But let me introduce you so he knows what’s going on. Jake’s been through a lot these past couple of days.” The sheriff turned to the agents and said, “I would appreciate it if you guys weren’t too hard on him, Jake’s a mess. He hasn’t been the same since the accident. I think his mind keeps going back to that pit in the tunnel, but I’ll be surprised if he ever sets foot down there again.”
The sheriff looked from one to the other, “do you two need to be briefed or have you read the report?”
“We’re up to speed,” said Stratton. “One question though.”
“Shoot.”
Stratton glanced at his partner then looked hard at the sheriff. He said, “do you believe the story that’s in the report? Suffice it to say that the details border on the fantastic.”
When the sheriff didn’t answer immediately but stood looking uncomfortably between the two agents, Briggs prompted, “off the record.”
Sheriff Davis nodded slowly and added, “yeah, I’m not saying that I buy everything or that I understand any of it, but I’m sure that Jake believes what he’s saying without a doubt.” The two agents exchanged a furtive glance, the demeanors of both remaining poker faced and unreadable behind the matching sunglasses.
“Okay,” said the sheriff opening the door and standing aside for the two agents to enter. After both had crossed the doorway, Davis followed and shut the door behind him.
The room was small, stodgy, and not overly lit, decorated simply with a solitary long table running almost the entire length of the room. The sheriff opened a hand indicating for the agents to have a seat across from Jake.
On the other side sat Jake, a small disheveled man that looked as though he hadn’t slept in a week. An overfilled ashtray sat in front of the man, stuffed with ashes and butts. Davis wondered if another cigarette would even fit.
Jake sat with his head down, both hands on the table, one over the other. He looked up and acknowledged their presence with a hesitant nod. Jake had been rubbing the back of his right hand with the index finger from his left when they entered. He did not stop. Looking at the nervous fidget and the overall demeanor of the man gave Sheriff Davis a sick feeling in his stomach for the poor guy. He really did look like warmed over crap.
Sheriff Davis introduced the agents and explained their agenda. Jake again answered with a silent nod. Agent’s Briggs and Stratton took turns drilling Jake with a battery of questions while Davis sat by silently, worrying about his friend. The agents tried again and again to lead Jake and get him talking about the incident. The most they were able to get out of him was essentially affirmation to the questioning, which strictly followed the report.
Finally, both agents seemed to have had enough. It had become pretty obvious to even Sheriff Davis from Podunk America that they were getting nowhere fast. Davis cleared his throat. Both agents looked his way. One of them, Briggs he thought, nodded to go ahead.
Davis said, “Jake?” After waiting for Jake to look up, he continued, “can I ask you just one question more?”
Jake nodded hesitantly still rubbing his hand. He had not stopped since the three had entered the room. “Jake, just what was this thing that you said you saw down in the pit?”
“Well, um, see,” said Jake actively rolling his hands now looking directly at the Sheriff. “I think, well, you see, I really think that maybe it was a troll.” The last of the sentence he finished with a wilt, barely mumbling.
“I’m sorry Jake, but what was that last part?” asked Sheriff Davis.
Jake looked the sheriff directly in the eyes, took a deep breath and said, “I think maybe it was a troll.”
Davis sat back and blew slightly ruffling the hair cropped just above his eyes. Jake said gaining force as he spoke, “yeah, if it wasn’t a troll, it had to be something else I’ve never seen before except maybe in some crazy movie or something.”
“You sure Jake, I mean…a troll?”
“Yeah, a troll, I mean dammit sheriff I got a really, really good look at that thing, whatever it was. We heard this swooshing sound, like somebody opened a big trash bag, you know, with air. Then I saw something moving underneath the ledge on the other side of that hole from where those two science guys were trying to climb out. First a clawed arm came out from under the ledge and got a hold of the rock. Then, this long neck poked out, just like that.” Jake shot his arm out rigid, hand in a closed fist. “The end turns up see,” and he rotated his fist up towards the ceiling without moving his arm. “Then this face just pops out of the end, with two big wet eyes looking right at me. Two more arms came out and one flipped something up towards me, caught my leg. I looked down and saw some kind of claw or hook. It was stuck through my pants. That’s when the thing gave a yank and snatched me off my feet. I would’ve gone on over, quick as a wink, but my other leg got caught on some of the crap sticking up from when the hole collapsed trapping those science guys.”
Jake swallowed hard, looking now from the agents to Davis and back again as he continued, “that thing gave another couple of snatches and nearly pulled my leg outta the socket, hurt like hell. Finally the claw tore through my pants and the thing began hissing and pulling the claw back to it, I guess it was on a line or something.”
Jake stopped and tried to light another cigarette. He managed to get the cig in his hand and after some difficulty to light a match, but had begun shaking so bad that he couldn’t make the business end of the two meet. Finally, he put both the unlighted cigarette and spent match back down on the table. Davis noticed that there were several more blackened matches in a pile behind the ashtray in front of Jake. Boy, Jake sure was a mess.
One of the agents asked, “What happened then?”
Jake looked up, in his eyes beyond the fatigue was sadness and shock. He said, “I ran for my damned life that’s what. The whole way out of the main dig tunnel I could hear those science guys just screaming and screaming. I’m not sure when they stopped. When I got outside, I realized that I was screaming too. Had maybe screamed the whole time I was running, maybe, I don’t know. I was almost drug down in that damn hole with the science guys.” He paused and added with a shudder, “and that thing.”
No one spoke. After several moments of awkward silence, Jake stood and said aloud, “One things for damn sure. There is no power on Earth that could drag me back into one of those tunnels. No way, “he shook his head hard. Looking at the sheriff he asked, “Can I go now?”
The sheriff nodded and rose opening the door. Jake made his way around the table and out the door. As he walked out, he paused, turned partially back and said, “You three had best not go back down into those dig tunnels. They should be sealed tight, keep whatever’s down there from getting out.”
One of the agents responded, “Sir, we can’t do that. We have to find the two missing PhD’s.”
“Well, you three just be careful. I suspect that if and when you do find those two guys, you’re not going to like what you find very much.” And with that Jake was gone.
The two agents rose, gathered their paperwork and left with a nod to the sheriff. Davis lingered by the door, gathered his hat with a sigh and said to no one in particular, “no, I suspect they won’t.” The sheriff left the way he had entered, hit the light switch and pulled the nondescript wooden door closed behind him leaving the stark waiting room dark and foreboding. Just like a cave.


The Traveler
By: Norval Joe

　
The walls of his cubicle were a tribute to his travels. Post cards of Big Ben, The Pyramids, Taj Mahal, and Mt. Fuji shared space with hotel stationary in French, German, Malaysian, and Chinese. Exotic memories on the plain grey back ground of a mundane life.
"Jerry", he heard from over the partition, "Are you there?" That was Mark on the other side. "Yeah, man. I'm here, just deep in thought."
What a joke, he mused 'No thought involved in this mindless job, deep or otherwise.
"The weather was cooperating and they would be ready for their final ascent the next day. The sherpa had spread all their gear on a nylon sheet, outside the tent. They inspected each piece for damage or excessive wear. They checked the gates of the carabiners, that they opened and closed freely, and looked for frayed areas of their harnesses. They flaked the climbing rope out onto the tarp, and then inspected every inch, running it between their fingers while examining it with their eyes. They felt the continuous core of nylon fibers through the woven mantle that sheathed them. Like blind men reading brail, they felt for inconsistencies in the dynamic, semi-elastic fibers that might cause the rope to fail, in the event of a hard fall.
"Jerry," Mark said again, "I don't think I can take this job anymore. Day after day, the same thing. How do you stand it?" There was no reply from Jerry's side of the temporary wall. "Jerry, are you over there?"
"Yeah Mark, What do you need?" Jerry asked as he resurfaced.
"I was just wondering how you do it. You've been here longer than anyone else, how can you stand it, day after day?"
"I don't know, Mark. I just try to stay focused."
Focus. He should be relaxing his mind and getting some rest, not focussing on the climb tomorrow. The route was well known and the Sherpa well trained, there would be no worries. What he needed was his strength, and for that, he needed sleep. They would be starting their ascent at 2 am to be able to summit by mid-day. He rolled over in his sleeping bag and squeezed his eyes shut; he could never sleep when it was light outside.
They had returned to Camp 4 the day before and spent the day resting, to improve their chances of summiting. They had set up the camp previously on one of their preparatory climbs. He didn't feel well rested; just moving around at this elevation was fatiguing.
Camp 4 was just above 26,000 feet at the edge of Everest 'Death Zone'; from here to the top the temperature could drop so low as to cause frost bite to any body part exposed to the air. The snow above would be so well frozen in some places that death could be caused by simply slipping from the trail. And worse, the oxygen level is so low that climbing, even breathing becomes extremely difficult and the mind dull; and thus, reactions fatally slow.
　
Hours still before dawn, they roped up as they prepared to leave the campsite for their final approach. He pulled the gators over his boots and up to his knees, to keep snow out of his pants and boots, and stepped into his bindings. He stamped each foot into the snow several times at different angles, ensuring that they had properly attached to his boots, and would remain in place, under any circumstance. He clipped onto the rope and spun the lock on the carabiner, binding his harness to the life line. He checked to make sure that he had his glacier glasses in the most accessible pocket of his goretex jacket; he would need them when the sun came up. He adjusted his halogen head lamp and swung its beam back and forth across the snow in front of him. Each climber inspected one another's harness before picking up their ices axes and headed toward the summit.
"Jerry, I'm quitting, just as soon as I can find something to pay my rent. I don't care if its less than what I'm making now. Heck, I don't care if it's flipping burgers. I just need a change; some time away from this grind. I need some time to be creative again; maybe write that novel I've been thinking about. Time to extend myself; to climb to my potential. The potential that has been stifled by this job.
He watched the Sherpa climbing the trail in front of him, the rope between them pulling taught as he slowed and stumbled. The native climber stopped and turned to look back at his charge. Swaying slightly, he leaned on his ice axe, resting against the against the glacier where it rose to his right. On his left, only eighteen inches from his foot, the mountain dropped away, one thousand feet to a junkyard of broken rock and ice. There were the bodies of climbers down there as well. One was added just last week, as a climber lost his focus, lost his step, and lost his life. They say that for every four climber that makes the top of Everest, one dies coming back down.
'The Traveler'
　
He could see the summit. The glacier distorted his perspective and though it looked close, he knew that he still had another 1000 feet to climb.
"Jerry? Have you really gone all those places you have the post cards from. I mean, that would be tons of traveling. China, Japan, and Malaysia? A trip like that would take weeks. Jerry? Are you there?" "Yeah, Mark, now what?" All those places you've been, when do you go? In my five years here, you have never taken any vacation." There was a long silence, " Jerry? Are you ok?" "Yeah, Mark, I'm just feeling a little dizzy."
He concentrated on the sound of his crampons as the sharp spikes bit into the ice. Each crunch told him he had taken another step forward. Each step was more difficult, the time between each step increasing. He began to verbally command his body, to keep himself moving forward, "Lift the leg. Thrust the foot forward. Plant the foot. Now the next leg."
He was weary. The next leg wouldn't move, though he strained to drag it forward. He opened his eyes and found that he was leaning on his ice axe, that he hadn't moved again for some time. The Sherpa was standing in front of him. "Mr. Caldwell," he was pleading. "You must go back, you won't make it now. If you don't turn back, you will die!"
'How pathetic,' he thought, 'the man wants to cheat me out of my payment.' "I can make it," he argued with the Sherpa, "With or without you."
He fumbled at the lock on the carabeener, eventually opening it. He unhooked his harness from the rope and pushed past the Sherpa, his indignation giving him renewed strength. He heard the Nepalese man shouting warnings but, then, eventually following behind him.
"I'm calling it a day, Jerry. Hope you have a good night. I'll probably call in sick tomorrow; give me a chance to check out some job leads that I have been looking up over the last couple hours. Come on, Jerry, walk down with me."
Mark walked around the partition. The partition crowded with postcards collected from garage sales and torn from travel magazines. Hotel stationary written in exotic languages, not by Jerry, but, to Jerry in reply to his requests for hotel information.
Jerry stared blankly at his computer terminal. His bloodshot eyes, and a small trickle of blood coming from one nostril, was the only color on his otherwise, pale and lifeless face.

Don't Mind Me
By: Mick Bordet

I blame it on the theremin. I started playing it about a year ago, after finally getting fed up asking myself "what is that weird sound?" in the Beach Boys' song 'Good Vibrations'. It didn't matter that the sound they used wasn't actually produced by a theremin, because, by the time I had found that out, I was already hooked. This strange, otherworldly sound, played without even touching the instrument, but by careful manipulation of the body's own capacitance, had mesmerised me. Once I had one in my grasp, I practiced at every opportunity until the swoops and wails of the beginner were replaced by recognisable tunes. About three months ago I was told that I had picked up "thereminist's stare"; that distant, slightly glazed espression that comes with trying to keep one's body as still as possible to avoid affecting the tuning, whilst concentrating on finding the correct pitch and playing with true feeling.

A short time after that I was on the regular bus to work and it broke down at the side of the motorway. The passengers, myself included, were transferring onto another bus that ran the same route half an hour later, but as we walked from one to the other past the open engine compartment, something caught my attention. I bent down, stuck my hand into the hatch and twisted a pipe which led into the main engine block.

"Try that now," I said to the driver, "your fuel pipe was twisted and blocked. That should be it sorted."

He gave me a rather sceptical look, but returned to the driver's seat and tried the ignition. It started straight away. He nodded and gave me the thumbs-up sign, surprised and impressed. Not as surprised as me, though. My knowledge of motor maintenance extends as far as filling my car up with petrol and topping up the windscreen washers once in a while. How did I know to fiddle with that particular pipe? Why was it such an instinctive reaction? It puzzled me at the time, but I forgot about it until one night, some weeks later, when my wife and I sat down to watch a film.

By the time we had reached an hour into the film, I had to switch it off, so annoyed was I with inaccuracy of several of the theories being put forth. I hadn't even heard of Dan Brown until the week before and thought I knew next to nothing of Da Vinci's greatest works, yet here I was, picking apart the film with comments about the Priory of Sion and the Knights Templar as though I was an expert in grail-lore. That happened the day after a long session of theremin practice and it was only the beginning. My memory is starting to fill with some of the greatest works of literature, I know the princples of aeronautics and thermodynamics, I can recite many of Shakespeare's sonnets and have found myself watching French films without reading the subtitles.

It seems my mind has rebelled against my sedantary twenty-first century lifestyle and has taken to going to the library without me. Why that should have happened is beyond me; I can only guess that it thinks I'm holding it back. Perhaps some day my mind will read up on psychological phenomena and I will be able to explain it all, but until then I'm enjoying kicking back and letting the knowledge flow in like the tide.

I must go now; the big match is on in half an hour and I need to dig out the beers. By the time the final whistle blows I should be familiar with everything Dostoyevsky
wrote.

Rob and The Apple
By Jeff Hite

Rob opened his eyes to the new smell, and realized that he didn't know where he was. There was a great meadow in front of him, that he knew he had never seen before. And he was standing waste deep in wild flowers. Scattered around the meadow were a number of fruit trees, all covered it ripe fruit. He was hungry, so he walked slowly through the grass toward the nearest of them. It was an apple and they were all beautiful looking. But as he reached up to pick one, he hesitated. There was another person in history that picked the wrong apple, and paid the price for it. So, he decided not to. He walked slowly to the next tree. This was a peach, it was also laden with fruit, but he noticed something else odd about it. Not only was it covered in ripe fruit, but it also was covered in blossoms.
"What a great idea," he thought out loud. "I wonder how many times a year it will produce fruit."
"Nearly continuously." Said a voice from behind the tree.
"What?"
"I said it produces fruit nearly continusly." a small boy stepped from behind the tree then with a big grin on his face. "That is how we keep Zuse happy."
"I see." He stood in amazement waiting for the other shoe to drop. "This has to be a dream."
"Oh this is no dream, this is real. We have to tend the this orchard to all year round."
"It doesn't look that much like an orchard, more like a meadow with a few trees."
"Well since they produce year round they need extra nutrients, so they are spread pretty far apart."
"Well that makes sense, as much sense as the rest of this I guess. Where are we."
"Foolish man, I told you we are in the orchard of Zues."
"Alright, but where is that?" The young boy looked at him quizzically, and suddenly looked much older to him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean where is the the orchard located?"
"You are strange to me. The Orchard is on the western slope, it boarders the mortals realm That is why we ocationaly loose tress as the two realms bump into each other. I have told Zues this before. You are a spy for him aren't you? You are down here to make sure that we are not stealing any of the fruit. Who are you?" His face contored into an angry mask."
"I don't know what you are talking about, I just wanted to know where I was. I don't know anything about Zeus or any other god for that matter."
"I don't believe you. You go and tell your master that we are producing the fruit, and that we have never stolen from the trees."
"I believe you," He said stammering as the little man pulled a wicked looking pruning knife from his belt.
"Be gone, get out of the orcard before I change my mind." Rob truned and ran. He was not sure which way he should run, but he ran.
"Rob!"
"Huh?"
"Rob, did you not hear your phone ringing? I have been trying to call you for the last fifteen minutes." Monica's voice as a pleasant relief even if she was annoyed with him.
"No, I'm sorry I got distracted, my mind wandered. What did you need?"

Great Hites # 41

This week we have four Stories, One from
Ashley Redden
Peter S.
Norval Joe
And Jeff Hite

Last week we had a three way Tie, between Justin Lowmaster Lawrence Simon and Norval Joe

Great Hites 41
	Theres no Place like Home By: Ashley Redden
	Don't Take my Sun for Granted By: Peter S.
	The Daily Eclipse By: Norval Joe
	Night Fall By: Jeff Hite
pollcode.com free polls

Download


There’s no Place like Home
Ashley Redden



The metallic blobs flew through the upper atmosphere of the world as if shot from a weapon. They bumped and jostled, rolled over and changed position constantly appearing so much like an ancient shiny circular school of fish. The group settled suddenly, though they did not slow, as they were bathed with a signal. All of the blobs returned the signal immediately and shot even faster toward a single habitat below.

A larger blob was nestled into a small niche at the edge of the dwelling. The group arrived suddenly, and still bobbing and weaving, sent a formal greeting of the beings known as the custodians that was returned warmly.

“Now settle down little ones,” sent the large blob. “No pushing and shoving. I wouldn’t want anyone to be injured.”

Though the group found great humor in this, they all settled down in a small semi-circle surrounding the larger custodian. Harming a custodian through physical means alone was a tall order indeed.

“Honored Gran,” began one of the smaller ones, “tell us a story please.”

“What would you like to hear? You have heard them all so many times. What would you like to hear my precious little ones?”

“Please, honored Gran, tell us of the old ones, the ones that named Sol. Tell us of the first ones. Tell us, honored Gran, of the humans.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” came a chorus from the smaller custodians.

“What specifically would you like to hear?”

“Tell us why,” said a small one. “Yes, honored Gran, tell us of the ones who stayed and why they stayed. Why they did not flee with the rest.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” again came the chorus. “Please, please tell us honored Gran,” sent a small bobbing custodian as others joined in.

“Okay,” answered Gran. “Calm yourselves and I will tell what is known.” The large metallic blob that carried the moniker Gran settled herself and accessed the habitat’s not insignificant data net. The younger caretakers observed in awe. One day, they knew, they would be allowed access to the net. But for the present, they could only obtain the knowledge second hand in tellings.

Gran sent, “about 6 billion years ago, there was a planet that was about the size that Sol is now.” All of the custodians observed the white dwarf Sol in momentary silent contemplation. “On this planet,” began Gran.

“Earth,” blurted out a young custodian. “The planet was called Earth, right Gran.”
At this, the other young custodians shushed the one that spoke.

Gran said, “That’s right my little one, the planet was know as Earth. At first, all humans were the same. They called themselves Homo sapiens at this time.”

“When were they not the same honored Gran?”

“Sometime in the first 2 billion years humanity began to change. Some of it was for the better, but some was for the worse also. That is how change works my little ones; you have to learn to take the good with the bad. It is at this time that humanity began to leave.”

“Where did they go, honored Gran?”

“Everywhere,” answered Gran. Humanity changed and changed through the eons hence. Many continued to leave, very few came back, but always some stayed on the home planet Earth watching our star, Sol, slowly grow old.”

“What happened to Earth honored Gran?”

“About 5 billion years ago, Sol began to expand and became a red giant. Had the remaining humans not intervened, Earth would have been destroyed. But they moved it and changed it as well, for change my little ones is the way of things. When Sol grew, almost all of the humans had departed. Many had changed so much that they no longer thought of themselves nor called themselves human anymore. But always, Sol system was home. None of Earth’s far flung children wished to come home anymore, for as the universe expands the price to be paid for travel home grows and grows. But always, they remember and wish to speak with those that remained, to check in from time to time. So that is why a small group stayed. Some stayed because of duty, but most stayed because they were homebodies and liked it right where they were. All stayed because they loved their home. But they knew that things could not remain the same. So they changed themselves again as Sol grew and the sky turned bright. Do any of you know what they became,” asked Gran?

“Did they become starseeds?”

“Yes, my precious little one,” answered Gran. They changed themselves so much that they no longer considered themselves human. They no longer lived out beyond the reach of fiery Sol, but within its outer atmosphere as it swelled to its red giant phase. The starseeds learned to live in the terribly hot. This is also when the mostly organic humans became the totally metallic starseeds.”

“How long did it last honored Gran?”

“Oh, not so very long, just a couple of hundred million years is all,” said Gran

“What happened then?”

“Then,” continued Gran, “the starseeds changed again. They became custodians. As the humans then starseeds had watched the sky grow bright and red as Sol swelled outward, so it was that the starseeds then custodians watched as the sky grew dark as Sol shrank to the white dwarf that it is today. But change on a scale such as this is very dangerous and not all of the humans or the starseeds that attempted the great change survived.”

“But honored Gran, why did they risk so much to change? They could have left and then come back after Sol grew dim. They simply would have had to live further out in the solar system.”

Gran sent a signal of love to all the young custodians eliciting coos from the gathered throng. “They stayed and changed and then changed again so that we may live as we do so close to our life giver Sol. They risked so much because they knew; back when their hearts were organic and even when they were changed to molten metal that no matter where you go, there is no place like home.”

The young custodians sat in awed silence as they honored the memory of those that had come before.

“When will we need to make a decision to change again, honored Gran? Sol will not remain a white dwarf forever.”

“No, young one, nothing stays the same forever. But Sol will stay as it is for a very long time. And if Sol does change, we will simply make a decision at that time,” answered Gran.

“But that is then and this is now. How about some nice soup to put a bit of lost metal back into your young bones and a glossy luster into your coatings,” suggested Gran?

Cheers erupted from the throng of young custodians jostling, bobbing and weaving as they floated into the habitat after Gran.


Don't take My Sun For Granted
By: Peter S.

"Members of the board, Global warming will be the least of our worries!" Dr. Schileren blurted out, before any one else had a chance to finish.

Dr. Schadenfreude responded, "Again, Schileren, we all agree something is going on, just not to the degree that you do".

When Dr. Shadenfreude spoke, it was with a powerfully quiet reservation that could calm all but the most fevered scientist or world leaders. "It is my, and the boards continued belief,that these Solar anomalies are nothing more than an unprecedented..."

"Yes...but..."

"...But not a totally unprecedented swing back to Solar Minimum years, not some Extinction Level Event."

Almost turning blue, Dr. Schileren exhaled powerfully "Minimum? Minimum?! You call a 120 month running count of Solar Flares of 70 Minimum year? That is a yearly average of one half of one flare per year! And I sincerely hope we all have not forgotten that in the last 36 months we have seen NONE. Naught point Naught".

Dr. Schileren finished and gasped for more air to continue but Dr. Schadenfreude beat him to the punch, "It is the finding of this board and is only logical that our local star is so massive that it can do only one thing and that is to continue to burn Hydrogen, convert that into Helium, which in turn will turn to Lithium and then to Beryllium and so on and so forth and to keep doing this for the next 4 or 5 Billion years; as it has been doing for the past 4 and a half billion years."

Mustering as much reserve as he could, Dr. Schileren responded "As I have already said to nearly each and every one of you separately," He said pointing to each of them, "and now all of you in this meeting, the solar energy output is down now, by most calculations by 10%, when the Sun's output should be incrementally increasing every year. While this is something to be slightly celebrated as it will help with our rising surface temperature, when this information is more closely examined; the Coronal Mass Ejection dissipation, Solar Flare elimination and Energy output reductions, this cannot be good for the planet, and we must get to the bottom of this quickly! We are in the dark here and no one is shining a light on this issue!"

"My Dear friend, "Dr. Shadenfreude started, "I will grant you that this might need some more concentration on the overall issue, but can we pick this up again later? It looks like a beautiful day outside. I would be remiss if I did not attempt to repair any animosity this discussion has caused before the day was over..."

The Sun, that massive and magnificent star, the one that provides for the growth of all life on earth, flickered, and in less than 15 seconds from the first noticeable dimming, was no longer visible in the sky.

As he finished speaking, the whole of the earth that was normally bathed in daylight, that part of the Earth that also included the members of this Scientific review board, watched as day turned to night.


The Daily Eclipse
By: Norval Joe

They sat in angry silence, under the protection of the glass filter dome, and watched as day turned to night. At least, as much of a night as you get on the planet side of the moon. It was the mid day solar eclipse which would last several hours before the sum re-emerged on the opposite side of the big planet. "I don't even like this side; it never gets dark. We have the sun shining on us all day, and at night, the planet glows so much it might as well be day."

The last edge of the sun was slipping behind the giant orange planet. The moon where they lived was tidally locked with its planet and therefore, the same side always faced toward the planet, the side where Julie and her family now lived. "I want to go back to our old home, on the back side. At least there we had complete darkness at night. I wouldn't mind if I never saw that big red eye staring at me ever again." She stood to stomp around the room to emphasize her anger, but the atrium was so filled with plants that she would soon be lost to her parents vision, and the effect would be wasted. She was a year old now, and had a typical pre-adolescent flair for the melodramatic.

She sat back down, her mother was lecturing her, "I expect you to show a little more gratitude to your father. You have quickly forgotten how long and cold the nights were, and how long and hot the days were, on the backside. And your father has worked, and sacrificed, to get us this place up on top, where we can have a dome, and plants, and see the planet. It wouldn't take much to lose everything and be down at the dirt level with the indigents and general laborers." She sighed inwardly and rolled her eyes, 'What did her mother know? There was nobody down that low.'

She thought she knew what would be coming next, and she wasn't off by much. "Your father has sacrificed so much to make all this possible for you!" Her mother was even working up some tears. 'Hypocrite,' Julie thought to herself, 'Where will you be as soon as Dad is gone'? What did she call it, 'Social networking'? She wondered if her mother had ever really loved her father, or had she just loved his potential. He was nearly twice her age; she had just turned 2 and he was nearly four when they were married.
It was true that in the last solar circuit her father had been gone much of the time traveling between their moon, the planet and the two major moons in between. He had made most of his fortune on shiploads of fresh water from the watery moon that orbited the planet twice for every time theirs did just once. She wondered what days and nights were like on those other moons; they were both tidally locked, as was this one, but to have a day and night pass so quickly was incomprehensible to her. The closest of the larger moons, to the planet, would have four days and nights for each of hers. 'Wouldn't that just make you dizzy?'
Her mother was still harping about her lack of consideration, but she had heard it all before. Each time her father was preparing to leave, her mother would start to get edgy and irritable, then like clockwork, she would break into a tirade, unleashing her frustration on her daughter.
Space travel had only been developed in the last 10 years. Her father had taken the existing knowledge about space travel and applied what he knew of material science and designed space barges that could harness the magnetic charges that were generated between the various moons and the planet and slingshot the barges back and forth, making the the transportation of heavy items profitable; minerals harvested from moons, heavy gases gathered from the atmosphere of the planet, and in his case, water from the next moon in toward the planet. Her father had built his empire on the transportation of fresh water. There was salt water deep in the crust of this moon and it could be pumped and desalinated, as it had been for millennia, but with the advent of space travel, fresh water was an available luxury.
But was it for Julie, that her father worked so hard and was away so often? She didn't think so. With his rise in wealth there also came a rise in prestige and political power.
Outside the dome, with the sun fully hidden behind the planet, it was as dark as it was going to get, only the planets own light showed right now. Their day was divided into 100 hours, and each hour, 100 minutes. The eclipse lasted between thirteen and fourteen hours. Julie liked it dark.
As soon as her father was away and her mother found her 'other occupations', Julie would work her way down the elevators, stairwells, and passages to get to the ground level. Over the millennia new dwellings were built atop the old, reusing the existing radiation filters and magnetic shields. With the current imports, new structures, with more efficient shields were being built at the highest levels. It would take a long time to get to the ground, she would have to pack several meals. She had only been there a few times since their move to the planet side and only stayed a few minutes, but she had stood in the open air, on natural soil, unaffected by the waves of radiation that the domes, and shields at the top of the city were designed to reflect.
"Julie", her father was saying, "my travels have produced another benefit, that I would like to share with you." He caught her attention, instantly. Though she did her best to act indifferent to his work, and the 'benefits' that the family enjoyed, the allure of this relatively new space exploration intrigued her. "What the scientist had theorized; that our people had come from a different planet hundreds of millions of years ago, may actually be correct. We have found, 'people', for lack of a better word, similar to us on another moon. Some are theorizing that we, and they, came from a common ancestor. These creatures are not as intelligent as us, and are probably more suited to manual labor, but they show a willingness to work, and, in fact, appear to thrive under our direction." He looked closely at her face to gage her reaction. "I have acquired on of these beings to be your companion. She appears to be about your same age, and has already begun to
understand our language. Would you please make it your project, over the next few weeks, to teach her more of our language, and help her to understand some of the basic menial tasks around the home?"
She began to reply but looking at her fathers face she could see that he had already assumed that she would be compliant with his wishes and had begun to gather his things to leave.
Her own thoughts were racing. She had heard talk among her acquaintances at school that slaves were being brought in from one of the other moons, and now she would be the first in her class to get one. The day was looking up.


Night Fall
By: Jeffrey Hite

This planet had provided them with a great number of surprises. The short day night period, only eight hours, was only the first of them. Despite its relatively small size the gravitational pull created by the planet was incredibly strong. That was why the survey ship had come down so hard that it had damaged its systems enough that it needed the rescue team in the first place. The rescue team despite the warnings had almost made the same mistake. They had come down so hard it was only luck that saved them same fate of the survey ship.
Not for the first time they watch as day turned into night. But, for the first time they would be without lights during this night. The planets rotation was such that their small solar panels had not been enough to collect the power necessary to run the big flood lights, or really any of the exterior lights on the ship. All they would have were the small hand held flashlights and the low level lighting of the ships interior. This was more than a little disturbing to Alice, and she was not sure why.
As she stood outside the main hatch of the ship, watching the sun go down so fast that you could track the suns moment across the sky over only a few minutes. It was almost like being in orbit, but it seemed like more than this that was disturbing her. As the sun set below the horizon the blackness that surrounded them was nearly complete. The planet had no moon, not completely unusual, but the large amount of dust and debris in this system made all but the brightest stars invisible. All of this meant that once the sun set there was no natural light, and the side of the planet facing away from the sun was in total darkness.
The small hand held lights seemed woefully inadequate. That was why when Raymond, the search team lead, walked out of the foliage no one noticed him until he was nearly on top of them.
"Alright folks." His voice boomed from the darkness.
"Raymond," Alice shrieked. "It is eerie enough out here without you sneaking up on us like that."
"I'm sorry Alice, but I really didn't sneak up on you. I was right over there before the sun went down," he said gesturing with his flashlight. "I know you saw me."
"Yes, I did I am just a little jumpy. This dark is just very eerie."
"Agree, so lets find the survey team and get back to the ship so we can all get off this rock." There were grunts of approval and the all started for the rovers.
There were going to be three teams each would head in the general direction of the crash site and then fan out to find the survey ship. The Normally the plan would have been to land within a mile of the crash site, but their rapid decent and near crash had caused them to be several miles from the crash site, and to not be able to pin point it's location. This meant that they would actually have to search for the other ship in total darkness.
The rovers had lights and that did cut down on the nervousness that she was feeling but, there was something more than the darkness that was bothering her, but she could not put her finger on it. Maybe it was that they had not been able to raise the other ship, when they knew there had been survivors. The Captain of the Arkon, though a little banged up, seemed to be in good spirits when he had called for the rescue ship less than a week ago. He had reported that the entire crew had survived the crash with only minor injuries. But since they had landed they had heard nothing from them. Even as they approached the planet they were not able to make contact. But even this could not explain her uneasiness. There was something more.
When the Radio squawked she nearly veered the rover into the outcropping that she had been following.
"Alice, from the sensors you are the closest one to the crash site."
"Roger."
"You should come on the ship in two or three hundred yards. You might want to slow down a bit in case someone is wondering around over there."
"Acknowledged," She said as she slowed the rover. Within a few seconds the lights of the rover reflected off the shiney hull of the Arkon. Alice stopped the rover and dismounted with the rest of her team. As they spread out around the ship the feeling of dread grew.
"Alice, over here." Redmond yelled from the other side of the ship. "I found the crew hatch, but it looks like the controls have been damaged. I can't get the hatch open."
"That is odd." She shone her light at the control panel as Redmond fiddled with it trying to get it to work again.
"Commander," She turned to find Louis standing near the emergency access. He was the only one in the crew that was still new enough to call everyone by their rank. "I think you should see this."
"What is it Louis?" She asked as she directed Marget to continue assisting Redmond, and headed to where Louis was standing.
"Commander, this hatch looks like some one of something tried to force it open from the outside."
"That is odd."
"You can say that again. The only way to get these open is from the inside. Whoever tried to get it open was pretty desperate, look at these marks along the seal. Ever seen anything like that?"
"Do you suppose it could have been pushed out like that during the crash?"
"No way, it is too far up the side of the ship. See there is no crush damage to the hull at all, just to the landing struts and launch engines." He indicated the crushed parts of the ship.
"Right. Well keep looking around, and see if you can figure out what might have caused this."
Just then, the other two rovers came out of the surrounding foliage. As they did this side of the ship was bathed in light for the first time, and Alice noticed the strange markings around each of the hatches.
"Alice, what is going on here? Have you guys found the crew? I want to get back to the Weston, this place is creeping me out." Raymond said as he dismounted.
"So I am not the only one."
"Twice on the way over here I could have sworn we were being followed, but the other team was in the lead and when we looked back we couldn't see anything. So what is the deal here?"
"Well the main hatch controls seem to have been damaged, Redmond is working getting them working again. Louis is looking at some weird markings around the escape hatch aft, and as you came up I noticed that there are some weird markings around all the hatches."
"Weird marks?"
"Yeah look at these," She said shining her light at the area around the main hatch.
"What the..."
"Alice, I think I got the controls working." They all made their way to main hatch.
"About time, get it open so we can get the heck outta here."
"The weird part," Redmond said as he worked the controls, "is that this thing was all but ripped from the hull, it was like someone didn't want it to work." The door hissed open then and there was a scream from the interior of the ship that piercied the air. When it finally died all that was left was a quiet sobbing. They slowly entered the ship, which was completely dark.
"Hello, Captain Martin? This is commander Raymond Mathews of the Weston. We are here..." He was cut just off as the last of them stepped through the door. A crazed looking woman bolted from shadows toward the door screaming. "Grab her!" Raymond said as he was nearly knocked from his feet.
"Got her sir."
"Let me go. Shut the door, shut the door. Please shut the door."
"It's alright we are from the rescue corp." Raymond tried to sooth her.
"The Door. Get it shut. You have got to get it shut you don't understand."
"What, is it? Why do we need to shut the door?" Alice asked.
The Woman tried desperately to pull free from Louis, all the while insisting that they close the door. Raymond walked back down the corridor and pushed the button to close the door. Only when the door had closed completely did she stop trying to pull away from Louis and just collapse to the floor.
"What is going on here?" Alice asked the sobbing woman. "Where is the rest of the crew?" Alice pulled her to her feet so she could check her for injuries and looked at her name tag. "Alright Ensign Wilson, you need to calm down and let us know what happened her." Wilson only shook her head insistently
"No you won't tell us?" Raymond asked "Or no you don't know?" It was obvious that his patients was wearing thin.
"I don't know," she managed between sobs.
"Alright, Alice, you get her something to eat and get her calmed down. The rest of us will explore the ship. Don't open the exterior doors, but look for anything that would give us some kind of a clue about what is going on here." Raymond broke the rest of the team into groups and they spread across the ship.
"It came once the sun went down," Wilson said. "The first night we still had battery power, They second night the lights went out about half way though the night. soon after that we heard them. We never saw them, but we could hear them on the hull."
"What came out, We didn't detect any life other than the plants."
"The Captain sent several people out to go see what was going on. They never came back. One by one people outside after night fall disappeared. They all left me." She said breaking down into sobs again.
"Are you saying that there is something out there that took the rest of the crew?"
"We never saw them. We never saw anything. People just went out and didn't come back." When she stopped talking they could hear the quiet scraping against the hull.
"What is that?"
"They are back." She sobbed uncontrollably again.
Alice stood and walked toward the hatch. She was about to open it when Wilson tackled her slamming her painfully against the bulkhead.
"You can't open the door. They will come in. They will take us away too."
"What is out there?"
Raymond came back at that point. "What is going on here?"
"Wilson says that something outside carried the rest of the crew off." Alice said getting to her feet and rubbing her head where it had been knocked into the bulkhead.
"It was the dark, you can hear it now, it is trying to get in."
"What are you talking about?" In the silence that followed the scraping that they had heard before was back and this time there was more of it. The longer they listened the louder it got.
"What is that?"
"The dark." Wilson whispered.
The rest of the search crew came back then. "Sir we didn't find any signs of the crew, but as we were looking around, we could hear something scratching at the hull. Jonston and I were going to go out and figure out what it was."
"No!" Wilson screamed "It will take you too. The Dark will take you too."
"She says the rest of the crew was carried off by whatever is making that noise." Alice said.
"Alright, then we sit here until sun up, and then we get what we can, and get back to the Weston. Is it safe to go out during the day light?" Wilson nodded, "Alight then we go out as soon as the sun comes up and we can search for the rest of the crew from orbit if we have to."
They stayed in the main hatch as a group for the next two hours as they waited for the sun to raise. All the while the scraping got louder and more insistent. Then just before dawn it stopped.
"Are they gone?" Alice asked
"Not until the sun is up. But it has retreated to the bush."
"Good we can get out of here." Raymond.
"No, don't it is still out there."
"I want to get a look at this thing." Raymond headed toward the hatch and before Wilson could move had it open. He stood in the opening for a moment then he was gone into the darkness. He hadn't stepped out of the ship, he was just gone.
"Close the door or it will get us all."
"But Raymond, we."
"He is gone. There is nothing we can do. The captain thought we could go looking for people too and everyone disappeared." She slammed her hand against the emergency close and the hatch slammed shut.
The sun came up five minutes later, moving quickly up the sky. They went outside and looked for signs of Raymond, but found nothing.
"Alright," Alice said "I am taking charge, any one have a problem with that?" No one answered. "Contact the Weston and let them know we have one survivor and that we are coming back." She said to Louis, "Redmond you go with the other rover and get it back to the Weston, take Wilson with you. The rest of us will get the black boxes and the camera feeds from the Arokn and meet you back Weston. If we do not come back before night fall, do not come looking for us. Is that clear."

******

"This Planet is quarantined, Be afraid of the dark."

Great Hites # 40

This week we have stories By Justin Lowmaster, Lawrence Simon and Norval Joe

This week ended in a three Way tie. Congratulations Everyone!


Last week Norval Joe won the voting. Congratulations!




Download

Inside Joke
By Norval Joe


The death row prisoner, Harvey Banks, sat inside his cell and smiled. He had an inside joke. His execution was scheduled for December of this year, 2012, but he wasn't worried. He had been counting down the days for years, now, and the big day, the day of the big joke, was only three days away.
The elements of his plan were coming together this Friday, everything was set.
He had been working on this plan since 2004. To make it all happen, he knew it, even back then, he would need a big bank roll, and nothing traded in this prison like cigarettes. Cancer stick currency, the insiders called it. He quit smoking and started saving. It took him a whole year to actually quit. It's hard to not smoke in prison, where everyone does, the smoke is always around you, inviting you back into the habit. He couldn't let anyone know that he had stopped smoking, so that he could get even more 'cash'. "Hey buddy, can I bum a cig from you?" He would ask around after every meal, and stash away a few extra each day. "Got a light?" he would ask, but then not light it, just let it hang in his mouth. Occasionally, someone would catch him at it, "You gonna smoke that thing?" They would ask, and he would reply with, "I'm trying to quit, I wanna be healthy when I go to the chair," and they would laugh together, but he would laugh all the better at his inside joke.
Eight years earlier, almost to the day, he had received the first message. He hadn't believed it at first; thought it was his imagination. He heard it in the static from his fm radio. He knew about static. You get plenty of free time in prison, if you call sitting in your cell free. It gives you a chance to catch up on all the reading you didn't get to do, as busy as you were, on the outside.
Banks had always been fascinated by the stars that you couldn't see really well in the city where he lived. But in the prison library, they had a whole shelf of astronomy books, with pictures of the stars that he never gotten to see. He took the books back to his cell and started to read about the universe, and was fascinated. He talked so much about the things that he read that the inmates gave him a nickname, which doesn't bear repeating in polite company, but alluded to his astronomical interests.
Messages were encoded in the static caused by the cosmic microwave background radiation. He listened to the static each night, at the same time, for a week. He wasn't crazy, or imagining this, he was receiving instructions from extraterrestrial life. Their message was this; They were coming back on the winter solstice of 2012, when the Mayan calendar comes to its end, and they are going to vaporize the earth. They would do it, too, because they weren't pleased with how the earth was doing. These beings had interacted with the Maya, centuries ago, and had given them instructions regarding the proper preparation of the earth for their arrival of their own descendents, centuries into the future. They warned the Maya that if they, the aliens, were displeased, they would vaporize the earth and start over. They even gave the Maya a date; winter solstice, 2012.
The static encoded message gave directions to all who could understand, how they could be rescued from the doomed planet. All who would be saved must be ready, atop a building or mountain, four weeks before the day of annihilation; just three days away.
"It's only Tuesday," he said to the guard, passing outside his cell. The guard didn't miss a beat as he paced by the cell, he had heard worse comments than that all day, and Banks sat is his cell and laughed.
A guy in laundry owed him a favor and agreed to leave him in the facility at the close of business. He could gain access to the roof through an air vent, and since it was six floor up, with no possible way down, the spot lights would never cross it to find him there.
He had carefully selected the proper guard for collusion, and had to offer him his entire stash of cigarettes. Guards were limited to one pack of cigarettes that they could bring into the prison each day, to prevent them from trading with the prisoners; keeping them honest. Five years worth of cigarettes was enough to turn any small time guard into a major player, who then could get cooperation from the bosses of the even largest gangs in the prison. He had promised the guard that he only wanted this one chance to view his beloved night sky, before his execution, and would return to his cell, or more likely. solitary, in the morning when apprehended on the rooftop; but, of course, he would be gone. He kept a straight face during these negotiations, there was no one in the prison who was worthy to share his inside information; let them be vaporized with the rest of the world.
Friday night everything went exactly as planned. He was left, hiding in a bin or clean towels, at 8:00 pm, when the laundry was locked for the night. He waited quietly in the dark room until all sound had died away in building before opening the vent in the ceiling and working his way to the roof. At the 9:00 pm and midnight cell checks, his empty bunk was carefully overlooked.
He had checked the lunar tables and knew that at midnight the waxing moon would be directly overhead. As the moon approached its zenith Banks boldly stood in the center of the rooftop with arms out stretched, head back, looking up into the night sky, expectantly. Waiting, his neck began to get stiff, and at times he had to bend over and stretch out the muscle cramps. Other times, he began to get dizzy, the stars over head spinning around him as he lost balance and tried to catch himself before falling to the rooftop.
Eventually, reality settled in. The moon was descending toward 3:00 am and his alien rescuers had not come for him. The guards would be changing shift and the prison would soon be on alert to a missing prisoner. He sat on a ventilation conduit, his face in his hands, dejected.
The fresh guard quickly reported the missing prisoner and the search began. The investigation rapidly revealed the escape route through the laundry room ceiling to the roof above. Guards stormed up the stairway and through the access to the roof. Spot lights crossed and searched every inch of the roof.
They found Harvey Banks right shoe on the roof under the ventilation conduit, but a thorough search of the entire prison and the country side for miles around yielded nothing more.

Tuesday Morning
By Lawrence Simon

Monday night, Tuesday morning.

Depends on when your day is, I guess.

I don't have days. I just have a job to do.

My job is to kill. I kill people for a living.

Do this job long enough, nights and mornings, and it'll mess up your thinking.

Focus. I need focus.

Alice's Diner is where I pick up my kills for the week.

And coffee. Good coffee.

"The usual?" she says.

I nod.
We used to talk. Flirt, too.

Strictly business now. Stay focused.

She slides a folded sheet of paper across the counter.

"Just one this week," I say, opening the paper.

Alice.

She knows her name is on there.

Of course she does. It's her handwriting.

"I'm sick of this shit," she says. "Do it quick."

I pull my gun out of my briefcase.

"No," I say, shooting her in the legs. "You laughed when that paper had my son's name on it."

"YOU TOOK THE MONEY ANYWAY!" She shouts.

I did. And I know why, too.

It was for my son's college fund.

As I said, the job messes with your thinking. Easy to lose focus.

She's screaming in pain, bleeding on the floor.

I throw her a rag and leave the diner.

I go back in and leave a tip for the coffee.

The bomb in the briefcase will go off in a few minutes.

Then, I'll need a new job. And a new briefcase.

My son gave me that briefcase.

I check my watch. Not enough time to go back in.

At least I remembered my smokes.


Margo
By Justin Lowmaster

Margo walked onto the movie set. Rays of morning sunlight cast an orange glow on the tops of the faux storefronts, illuminating words like General Store and Jail. She passed a cowboy that tipped his hat at her.

"Ma'am."

She smiled politely and continued walking briskly to her small office trailer. She took out her ring of key rings keys. They jangled cheerily as the myriad of keys on one ring danced with the keys on the other rings. She picked one ring, then picked out the blue key.She unlocked the door and entered her trailer. She sat down her notebook on a filing cabinet. A single paper slid and stuck out. She lifted the notebook's cover and slid the sheet back in place and took a deep breath through her nose.

The luxuriant scent of fresh coffee filler her senses. She pulled a mug from among the plate and bowl in the dish drainer that sat beside a small sink. She waited a few seconds for the last drops of coffee to drip into the carafe. As she poured the coffee into the white mug, her phone rang from her pocket. She sat down the empty carafe and answered.

"Margo."

She opened up the small refrigerator.

"Yes, have them deliver the doughnuts to the ... don't interrupt please ... to the Town Hall set. That is where today's meeting will be."

She took a small metal dipping bowl from the refrigerator and poured it's creamy contents into the coffee mug.

"Yes, I'm sure. Be hasty about it, the meeting is in fifteen minutes."

She closed the refrigerator door with her foot and set the little bowl in the sink then hung up the phone. Taking the single spoon from the dish drainer, she stirred the coffee. It went from black with a spot of white to a warm, creamy color. She put the phone back into her pocket.

With a push of the lever, warm water poured into the sink. She put a few drops on blue soap from the bottle by the sink into the carafe and filled it half-way with water, swirling it around. Pressing the lever turned off the water. She soaked the small cup and spoon in the soapy water, then rinsed them off with sink water, putting them in the dish drainer. After draining the carafe, she rinsed it the same way, placing it upside down in the drainer. From the top of the coffee maker she removed the filter and spent coffee grounds and dumped them in a trash can under the sink.

Mug in hand, she sat at a small desk beside the filing cabinet. She opened the a drawer and fingered through the tabs and pulled out a file titled Wednesday. She sat in on the desk and closed the drawer. Today was going to be a busy day. In the file were a few papers. Referencing a sheet from her notebook, she made a few marks on the papers from the file, noting schedule changes and the like. When done, the sheet and file were placed in her notebook. She closed her eyes for three minutes and prayed again for the day. Coffee and notebook in hand, she headed to the town hall.

---

She waited patiently at the table at the Town Hall set as everyone arrived, going over her notes. Everyone arrived, no one was late. She was happy with the group on this film. Chairs scrapped the wooden floor as various crew members took seats around the table. They were timely, responded well to authority, and had a firm grasp on their jobs. The morning meeting was short and quick because she only had to cover new items or changes, with no need to rehash things that had already been said. Pulling an agenda sheet from the file, she stood up.

"Good morning everyone, today is going to be a busy day. You will all have to be hasty. Is everyone ready?"

Various nods and comments of affirmatives animated the room. The cowboy that had passed her earlier said "Yeehaw!"

"Ok, I will give everyone their agenda. As always, take notes and ask any questions at the end."

A young man with a short, black flattop took a sip from his paper coffee cup.

"Mike P, get on the phone with the caterers and up the persons by three."

He set down his coffee next to his notepad and gave a thumbs up, then attacked one of the doughnuts.

"Mike S., check the inventory for the light bulbs for the Find and Dandy Corral set. You might need to order more, the shipment yesterday was damaged."

A middle aged gentleman stifled a yawn and nodded.

"Annie, meet with the make-up team before they start today. Make sure they know about the updated doctor scene."

Annie furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at Margo.

"They are co ..."

Margo looked up from her notes at Annie. Annie closed her mouth and wrote something down on her notepad.

"Simon, meet with the horse handler. He is new and needs shown around."

The cowboy raised an eyebrow and looked at the bearded man next to him, who just shrugged.

"Tom, I need you to calculate the electricity usage numbers on the sets after today. The last project overused power, and we want to try and minimize use this time."

A balding man with glasses twisted his lips into a confused expression. He wrote a footnote on his own agenda sheet that he had before him.

"Caleb, I need you to ..."

A man wearing a black tie coughed obnoxiously loud. Margo looked up from her notes at him. He had a 'what are you doing?' look on his face. An uncomfortable silence hung over the set. She glanced at everyone sitting around the table. Several had confused looked on their faces as they looked back at her.

"Does anyone want to tell me what is going on?"

The man in the tie, Caleb, scratched his head.

"It is only Tuesday. No one else is showing except us until tomorrow. We are still getting the sets ready."

Margo stared at him blankly for a long, quiet moment. She sat down the paper and took the phone from her pocket. Sure enough, it said Tuesday. She somehow had gotten her days mixed up and had thought today was Wednesday. She sat down and stared at her mug. Most everyone fidgeted in the stillness. After some time, she looked up.

"Does anyone have any questions about prepping the sets?"

After everyone had a moment to think and glance around, no one said anything. Margo looked at her paper.

"It looks like I covered everything for today that anyone needs to know about. Lets get to work!"

---


At the end of the day, Margo returned to her trailer. She posted a calender next to the coffee maker. The days passed for the current month were already crossed off. She crossed off today with a marker which she clipped sideways onto the calender pages. She set up the coffee maker to brew one cup tomorrow, then mixed some sugar and cream into the small metal dipping bowl which she placed in the refrigerator. On her way out, she picked up her notebook and headed to her car, ready to rest.

Who has won

Download Winners Tally Audio


Just a quick tally of who as won in the voting

Chris Hite Won with Time Traveler
Anima Zabaleta Won with Jerry, and THE KUNIKAJI
Peter S. won with "Evolution"
And
Joseph Santos won With "Bad Things"

Thank you for all who a have participated in the challenge so far. Congratulations to all who have and submitted and won. If you submitted and have not won yet it is only because you have not told enough of your friends about the site and your story and encouraged them to go out and vote, and of course to subscribe so that they never miss another story that you have created. Good luck to all of you and of course keep writing.

- Jeff