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Story I wrote...yup. Here it is! Still needs ton of work, but it's convenient to put it online. I can edit it anywhere. domokun
Somewhere beyond the realm of human life lies swirling spans of unending dust. Beyond that dust lies unimaginable emptiness. Beyond that emptiness lies an unmerciful sun. Beyond that sun lies an undaunted shadow. And inside that shadow lies an unyielding world. This world has been spinning itself through the icy air before Earth ever became so much as a rebellious space rock. Something Earthlings would be afraid to know is that the creatures of this world have watched humans since the very beginning. Always, the creatures kept a watchful eye on the scampering humans. The creatures, of wispish bodies and profound minds, believe themselves to know more about humans than humans do themselves.
They are not the gore-seeking aliens of sci-fi flicks. They don’t want to integrate themselves among humankind. They don’t interfere with human history, create rings in cornfields, nor even travel to Earth at all. Instead, they observe Earth as an example of what not to do. When they see escapades of blood-dark wars through their lenses, they shake their heads and sigh. When they see tearful children and beaten wives, they tell their own children the stories of human pain. Their depthless eyes, all alike, look upon Earth with a coldness most humans would shiver at.
So why, one might ask, would a vessel careening from Earth be headed for such a bleak welcome: for there was no doubt that was where it was headed. The sun was far behind the ship, and ice was starting to crust on the edge of its wings. Reflecting in the windshield, that same, remote world loomed large. The ship slowed for a moment, before the world’s gravity took over and tugged the ship inside. There was a moment of trembling through the atmosphere, then the driver seemed to gain control and the ship evenly lowered toward a cluster of craggy peaks.
A small landing pad among the peaks eventually appeared. The ship lowered itself until it was about ten feet above the landing pad. A few white forms waited silently. Their upturned faces glowed pale as moonlit snow in the darkness. Quite suddenly, the engines cracked off completely and the ship dropped like lead. The forms scattered from the landing pad as scraping metal met hard earth. They only returned once the cockpit of the ship slid open, issuing a gout of smoke.
Another ghostlike figure emerged from the wreckage. It held something small and soft in its spindly arms. It had the same smooth features as the creatures approaching it, yet there was something very different about this ship driver. Maybe the difference was in the eyes. While the other creatures seemed to view everything with a broad, aloof gaze, the ship driver’s eyes lingered and concentrated on certain things-the star poked sky, then a rock in the weeds, then its fellow creatures stepping lightly back onto the flight pad. When the driver saw them, its eyes focused more clearly then ever, and no small amount of dislike clouded its gaze. But this dislike passed away with the next gust of wind and the driver loped out to meet them.
“Well! So much for driving lessons, then!” said the driver. It managed something like a grin, although its face was far too small for it.
One of the creatures stepped forward from the somber-faced group. “Lorchesse, tell us now why you have returned here. Sorchos cannot wait until the stars decay for an answer.”
The ship crasher Lorchesse hugged the bundle away from the wind. “Sorchos can wait a moment longer. It’s too cold for him out here; we have to get inside first.” Lorchesse looked somewhere into the bundle when he said this, smiling again. There was a moment’s silence. The wind whistled up the peaks as all of the creatures observed the lonesome Lorchesse with his bundle. There was a ridiculous look of adoration on his face that made the rest of them narrow their eyes with contempt. The creature that spoke, whose name was Forise, turned and walked off the landing pad. One-by-one, Lorchesse and the other creatures followed him.
Lorchesse walked in the middle, his eyes never leaving the quivering bundle. He didn’t need to look around-- nothing had changed. They strode down the same hallways of his childhood. Behind the frosted glass, mysterious lights blinked and there was a perpetual sound of humming machinery. Small, blue lights wound down the walls and created a feeling of eternal stillness. Quiet pervaded the whole place in the form of a light mountain-mist that swirled about their feet.
Lorchesse couldn’t stand to be back here again. He felt he might go mad, just as before. To save his sanity, he continued to smile into the bundle, where little eyes reminded him of warmth in this chilled place. The others glanced over at him, knowing now what Lorchesse wanted to do. Truly Lorchesse was mad if he wanted to bring one of those into this place of serenity? But it was not their choice to make. Once they reached Sorchos, their leader would make the rational decision and request that Lorchesse find somewhere else to put it.
As one, the group glided to a stop in front of a steel door. A simple engraving of the numbers 456 shone dimly at the top. There was a small button where the doorknob should be. Holding out a long, thin finger, Forise pressed the button twice. The sound of ringing went off somewhere inside. After a moment, the numbers slid obediently away, and a speaker rotated in their place.
“Your business?” said a voice from the speaker. It sounded like the all of the creature’s voices: high pitched and slow. The only difference was the slightest hint of authority.
Forise bent his head to the speaker. “It is Forise and Company D escorting Lorchesse from the launch pad.”
A slight crackling. Then, “Does Lorchesse still refuse to name his motives for returning?”
Forise again. “He does, Sorchos. He demands to tell only you.”
“So be it.” The nearest blue lights flickered and the door slid open. The mist followed them all into a room of disproportionate sharpness. The table, the chairs, even the picture frames on the walls were brought to perfect edges. Lorchesse almost felt afraid that sitting in one of the steel chairs would cut his legs. However, as the others lingered near the door, Lorchesse continued into the room and sat in front of Sorchos.
Sorchos carefully rolled up a map on his desk. “Lorchesse, the last time you left us, your parting was…less than amicable.”
Lorchesse nodded. “I remember.”
“Yet now you send a transmission, begging us a favor?”
“I do.” Lorchesse’s face was closed. He never looked so much like his fellow creatures.
“If it would not pain you, what is this important service you ask of us?” Sorchos was looking acutely at the bundle.
Lorchesse saw that any more stalling was futile. He reluctantly unwrapped a portion of the bundle to reveal a tiny, curious face. A human face.
“This infant needs a home. Earth is…not suitable for him at the moment. I should say, his father is not a suitable parent.”
“And his mother?” Sorchos asked. His serious eyes momentarily met the baby’s soft ones. Sorchos looked away.
“His mother is dead. Human law dictates he goes to his father—“
“--Unless the courts deem the father unfit to be a parent. Then the child would be sent to a foster home, or perhaps an orphanage. I am correct in assuming you still preside in New York? Yes? Well, human law is sufficient for this child. There is no reason to taint our world for you, Lorchesse.”
Lorchesse absorbed the veiled insult with difficulty. “Sorchos, you have seen how the foster system can harm a child’s spirit. You know!”
“I do know. It is true, this child may suffer from less than desirable conditions. Humans harming humans. The child will suffer from pain, as every human inevitably does. Why do you fight this, Lorchesse?”
Lorchesse moved his mouth agitatedly. “This human is different! We can protect this one! It is safe for him here until the humans have lost his scent. Look, see how he smiles!” Lorchesse held out the baby to his leader. The leader did not move.
“There are no remote parts of Earth to take him?” This question held Lorchesse’s tongue. He bit his lip in an irritatingly human way. He seemed to be forcing himself to say something. A truth he did not want to admit.
“All of Earth is stalked by pain. There is no escaping it there.”
Sorchos did not smile, but he nodded his head complacently. “Finally, you have discovered the truth we tried to tell you.” Sorchos leaned in closer to Lorchesse. Lorchesse wanted to back away from that disconcerting, unfeeling face. But he stayed where he was and searched tensely for an answer in the leader’s eyes.
“I ask you again,” Sorchos stated composedly. “Why do you attempt to hide this child away from pain? Surely suffering is a part of humanity?”
Lorchesse had been expecting that question. He sat up straight, his answer already prepared on his tongue. “It doesn’t have to be! Always, we spend our days watching Earth, but only watching. Here I am offering you a chance to raise a human without jealousy, anger, pride, or pain! Raise him in wisdom, Sorchos.”
Forise waited expectantly for Sorchos to reject the offer. But Sorchos was silent, his mouth a thin line of concentration. Finally, he spoke.
“We vowed never to condescend to Earth’s level: never to touch, visit, or speak with a human of any kind. We accepted that it was only right that the humans boil in the stew they created. But an infant has not quite gained its humanity entirely. If it were to stay with Lorchesse in Earth, soon it would become hateful and selfish. The infant should not suffer because Lorchesse desires to wallow on Earth.” Sorchos stood up and held out his arms. Lorchesse stood also, and hesitated before handing over the child to his leader.
“We shall raise this child,” Sorchos solemnly announced to the creatures watching by the door. It was clear that none of them were pleased by this, but they nodded at their leader and turned to leave.
“Forise, please stay here.” Forise stopped at the door and turned back around. Slowly, he strode to the front of the desk to stand next to Lorchesse. Upon closer examination, Forise was annoyed to see worry on Lorchesse’s face. The ship driver repeatedly held up his arms as if to take the child again, then set them down.
“You may leave now also, Lorchesse,” said Sorchos. “We know how to keep a human healthy. There is nothing more you need to tell us.”
But Lorchesse stayed rooted. “May I…well, may I say goodbye to him, Leader?” Sorchos blinked at such nonsense, but he handed over the baby to Lorchesse. To the other creature’s surprise, Lorchesse began to speak to it!
“Little one, we’ve been through quite a run together. Please understand, I leave you here to protect you. When I come back, I will show you all Earth has to offer! It’s so beautiful there, you wouldn’t believe! And your people…you will learn of all their wonders when I return. Don’t let these fussies silence that laugh of yours! Goodbye, child.” Lorchesse made sure to wrap the child up nice and tight before handing him back to Sorchos.
Sorchos was giving him a strange look. “You do realize that the child does not understand you, do you not?”
Lorchosse smiled slightly. “I do, but I like to think he might be left with those words after I leave.”
Forise shook his head in disbelief. “You were worried that the father was incompetent?”
Sorchos gave Forise a warning look. “Forise, take this child down to the nursing station. See if we do not have a liquid resembling milk in the stores.” Forise took the child and swept from the room.
“The child’s name is Gabriel,” Lorchesse said suddenly. “Don’t give him a name of ours. And treat him well. I expect to find him well fed and clothed when I return.”
Sorchos ignored Lorchesse’s insubordinate tone. He only wanted Lorchesse to be gone. “We will treat Gabriel as one of our own.”
Lorchesse was going to leave, but at this, he turned around sharply.
“No! Never do that! Give him wisdom, but not at the cost of his smile! And teach him about where he comes from. Don’t spit any of that humans-are-trash garble at him!” By now two security personnel had entered the room. They had heard the yelling.
“And another thing!” But the guards had taken his arms and were pulling him back. Lorchesse stopped struggling.
“I’ll stop yelling now. I’ll leave quietly.” The guards let him go, but trailed him to the door. Lorchesse stopped at the entrance. He ignored the guard’s threatening stands and turned again to Sorchos.
“Sorchos, do not ice over his heart while I’m away.” Then Lorchesse slipped out the door, his need to be back on Earth pulling his feet. One of the guards stayed in the room.
“Do you intend to obey the orders of a traitor, Leader?”
Sorchos sighed and took his seat. He gazed through his window at the launch pad, where Lorchesse’s form weaved in and out of the mist. “If he cannot stay to take care of this child himself, he cannot dictate how it is raised.” They both watched the ship rise and shoot over the mountain tops. The sun rose shakily on Gabriel’s first days of inhumanity.
 Wingwax · Mon Feb 11, 2008 @ 10:34pm · 0 Comments |
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