From Light to Life

By J. Duncan Lick

This is a science fiction story about life's beauty and complexity. What are the elements of life, and what do we need to sustain life? Can we program life with light? If we can, what do with that knowledge? Someone knows the answers, but they would rather show us than tell us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Duncan Lick
• Release date: Jan 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311878380

J. Duncan Lick

J. Duncan Lick is gathering information about you and your loved ones for nefarious purposes.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Tyrell walked the tattered road down to the beleaguered steelyard. The whole area gave him the creeps. He saw pipes, steam, rust, train tracks and more pipes.  The pipes were all different sizes and colors, and they ran in every direction. Tyrell followed the pipes down the hill carrying his dad’s new shovel. His brother Oz followed him nervously.  

No one worked the mill anymore, but it still seemed to be active, alive.  Dad said it was cheaper to keep the fires going than to let them burn out and have to re-start them.  Tyrell heard things moving and hissing through the pipes.  The metallic, sulfuric smell made him queasy.  

After a rain the stench from the plant made people cough. The smoke that came up out the stacks got pushed down with the humid air, and into the streets of Cleveland. Whatever, he thought, money was money and he needed the cash, and this was cash.  Besides, it hadn’t rained in a day.

I’m not going in there, man.  His brother Oz stopped walking.  You don’t know what’s down there.

Don’t be a fucking wuss, Tyrell shot back at him. There’s money down there, Oz.

There ain’t nothing, Tyrell.  Forget it. You’re too young to be doing this. We aren’t supposed to be down by the steel mill

You come with me Oz.  Oz was twelve, he was thirteen. Old enough to make his own decisions.

Tell me what we digging for, Oz said.

Treasure man! I told you. I’m goin.  If you are out now you get nothing.

Fine.

Fine.

Tyrell answered an online ad to go down into the steelyard and dig up some old metals buried on the bank of the Cuyahoga River.  The whole thing was ridiculous at first, but after a few emails back and forth the lady seemed legit.  Her email handle was LadyLydia and Tyrell liked that name, pictured her as a nice old white lady.  She said she lived over on Whiskey Island years ago. Her dad had buried some palladium blocks in the steel yard back in fifties while working the night shift. Metal was money that Tyrell knew.  She said he could keep half, if he went down there and found them.

LadyLydia said a bunch of people responded to her ad, but she was touched by his story of wanting money to help his sick mother.  Tyrell’s mom was in the hospital with terminal lung cancer.  

Tyrell’s story was true, but no amount of money was going to save her, his dad said. His real plan was to keep the money, and nothing for Oz and nothing for the nice old white lady either if he could avoid it.  It was not clear to him how she was going to collect it anyway.  

He gave her his address, he supposed she would show up at the door, where he would just say, sorry, no rocks found lady.  She knew he was right there by the old mill, another reason she gave him the details of where the rocks were.

He felt nervous now that he was actually doing it, noisy old mill, no one around, and misty sulfuric pollution.  He tried to be the strong black man his dad was always harping about.  

Easy Money, He kept repeating under his breath.  For a kid of thirteen to be walking around with real money though, dudes were going think he was dealing drugs, he thought.  The neighbors knew better, his dad would have none of that nonsense.  He would have to keep quiet, spend it in small bits.

Another half mile or so down into the Cuyahoga Valley, he glanced back at that wuss Oz just once.  Oz stood there and watched him. Tyrell waved him down, but Oz just stood there.

Wuss, he said as Oz turned back toward the house.

The pipes lifted up and went over a crossroad then banked left into the steel yard.  He jumped the fence and was in the yard.  

It was like a different planet, an infinite factory planet. The mill from here spread out in every direction as far as he could see.  

Man.  He waved the sulfur smell away.  

He sneezed and looked around. Rubble, train cars and tracks were all that were right around here.  He counted eight parallel tracks with the furthest lined with empty car after empty car.  Scrubby bushes on the edges of the yard were more brown than green.  They pushed up from the rubble. Everything here seemed to push up from the rubble.  Far off to the left, across the Cuyahoga River, the pipes led to a giant brown brick building with three smokestacks growing skyward.  Smoke belched from the center one. While the other two stacks stood dormant.  Beyond the smokestacks, but out of sight lay the Cleveland skyline, and beyond that Lake Erie.

Okay let’s see.  He had measured how big a stride to take to get a yard.  Twenty strides from the bank under the big bucket.  He looked up, there was the bucket. It was one of those giant iron deals you see carrying molten steel on the Discovery Channel, he thought.  It looked new though with some weirdo electronics on the bottom of it. He looked around again thinking this had to be the right spot.

He started digging.  About five minutes in, the little hole started getting muddy.  LadyLydia warned him that this might happen, since he was so close to the river.  Just keep digging, she said.  About ten minutes in he hit something, and he heard the crackle of electricity.  He looked up at the bucket. It had come on like a giant street light.  This was a bright weird light, almost solid, he waved his hand around inside the tube of light.  He moved to get out, when the light went off again.  

He got out of his muddy hole and looked up again.  He waited, examined the bucket.  Nothing happened.  He took his dad’s new shovel and tapped the box he had just hit in the mud.  He could only see the top of it, but he tapped it to see what would happen.  He waited, and looked at the bucket again.  Nothing happened.  The weird light was off now, and whatever man, he hit something.  He jumped back in and dug out an old metal box as quickly as he could and got out of the hole away from the bucket light thing.  He sat down next to the hole and opened the box.

Oh man!  He pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills.  No metals but who cared.  Awesome. He dropped the empty box into the muck.  He stood up to leave, not sure what he was going to tell Oz and LadyLydia.  Probably nothing.  No metal, no money, sorry guys.

He felt sick suddenly.  A sharp pain in his belly spread through his whole body, and he doubled over and wretched hard.

God damn.  What is going on?  He rubbed his stomach.

He looked up as a grey Mercedes squealed away, kicking up dirt.  He decided to get out of this creepy place.  He stumbled to the fence and climbed over slowly, his stomach still hurting. He forgot to bring his dad’s new shovel home.

He climbed back up to his house at the top of the hill.  He spotted Oz at the house.

What did you find?

Nothing, he said.  He resisted the urge to puke.

Told you.

Shut up wuss.  He had counted the money on the way up.  Eight hundred dollars would buy a lot of candy and a nice BMX bike.

Chapter 2

The next day, Tyrell’s dad was pissed.  Boy…now…we talked about this story telling.  

It’s not a story dad.  She said there would be metal in the box.  There was going to be money for us dad.  No way was he actually going to give his dad the money, but if he got a little teary eyed, maybe the old man would forget about the stupid shovel.

You owe me eight dollars boy, and this is the wildest story I ever heard.  You must think I’m stupid to believe this nonsense.  Digging for treasure? Because the computer said so!  His dad shook his head.  Ridiculous, you are off the computer for a month now.  I was going to dig out some of those weeds in your mother’s garden with that shovel.  You are going to do it now.

Alright dad, he half sassed half whined his answer, still feeling sick.  He wondered if that light messed him up somehow.

Don’t you even think about taking a tone with me boy.  You like digging so much, you get started in that garden with your hands.  I’ll be back here in twenty minutes with a new shovel.  His dad headed to his car.

Then a little furry orange cat crossed the street.  It was wide and ugly, and it had the face of a gremlin. It walked funny, almost like it had only two legs and was drunk.  A gray car pulled up, and a person jumped out. The person snatched up the cat in one of those cat carry cases.  The cat made a high-pitch bark.  Tyrell recognized the car.  It was the Mercedes, and it still had dust on the back end from the steelyard.

Dad, that’s the car right there, he pointed.

What are you talking about now?  His dad looked at the car then back at Tyrell.  

That is the car I saw yesterday in the steelyard.

Boy...  His dad started, but a dart popped right into his dad’s neck.

What the…?  His dad snatched the dart out and looked at it.  Then he looked at Tyrell, eyes glassy.  His dad looked straight through him and collapsed.

Tyrell turned and saw an outstretched hand with a gun pointed right at his face.  He heard a crack and he felt a pinching in his neck.  Then he was sprawled out on his own front lawn and this stranger was holding his head off the grass.  The stranger was right over him, but he could not see their face.  

You will be OK, and your dad will be fine too.  You won’t feel sick anymore.  Say you can hear me Tyrell.

I...OK...I hear you.

Keep the money you found yesterday.  I’m going to leave you another two hundred dollars, but you have to forget any of this happened.  Promise me buddy, promise me you won’t tell anyone what happened.  The stranger said in a raspy voice.

I thought you were an old lady.  Tyrell passed out.

He woke to Oz shaking him.  

Hey man, hey, what the hell happened? Oz said.

Go check on dad, he’s on the other side of the car.  The door to their 1998 Malibu still open, Tyrell’s father still lying there.

Dad, dad, Oz said.

Their dad stood and Tyrell didn’t know what to expect from his father right now.  

Go sit over there by your brother Oz.  He looked at Tyrell, every muscle in his body clenched.  You alright Tyrell?  

Yeah dad.  He rubbed his neck.

Both of you listen to me very carefully. This it some kind of nonsense we seen here today. Right?  They both nodded.  Tyrell wanted his dad to give him the plan now.  What were they going to do?  What would be their move now?  We had to find the grey Mercedes right, go find the weird cat.

I’m going to call the police and report exactly what just happened. I’m going to tell them about your treasure digging and everything we know Tyrell.  Then…we are going to get a new shovel together, and we are going to weed that garden.

But dad!  

His dad cut him off.  This nonsense is way out of your control Tyrell.  You and me, Oz, we can’t have any say in the outcome here.  What are you going to do?  Find clues, play pirates yesterday and detective today?  No, no, this is some shit that we don’t belong in.

Oz and Tyrell