Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe: WPaD Science Fiction, #1

By WP aD, Mandy White, Diana Garcia and 9 more

WPaD presents: Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe…

- A scientist struggles to find a cure for Alzheimer's before the disease takes his mind…

- Dolphins and whales work with their human trainers to terraform a new planet…

- Artificial intelligence backfires on humanity when sex robots become sentient and demand rights…

- A lost reptilian tries to find her way home…

- Random items are disappearing in a small town and cats may be responsible…

- What's worse than being lost in space? Being lost in space with a crew of idiots…

- A salvage crew lands on a deviant, yet disturbingly familiar planet…

- A rogue space captain acquires a robotic pet with surprising abilities…

- An injured soldier telepathically connects with his leader for rescue…

- Humans evacuated from a doomed Earth colonize a new world… and learn nothing from the experience…

Enjoy these stories and more in a stellar science fiction collection from Writers, Poets and Deviants. Featuring the usual cast of deviants, with some fresh new faces joining the crew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WPaD Publications
• Release date: Nov 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386258957

Book preview

STRANGE ADVENTURES IN A

Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe

WPaD Science Fiction

By WPaD

(Writers, Poets and Deviants)

Copyright © 2017 WPaD Publications, acting publisher Mandy White, and all authors named in this book.

All Rights Reserved

All stories and poetry in this book remain the property of their respective authors. No individual or agency other than those named may reproduce, copy or publish any part of this book in full or in part, in any medium printed or digital, without the expressed permission of the owner(s) of those works.

Cover art and illustration by Jason Kemp of Tenkara Studios, Toronto, Ontario

A special heartfelt thank-you to Jason Kemp for his tireless work designing the cover, which features his own hand-drawn art.

Spectacular work, Jason! Words cannot express how much we appreciate your talent and your valuable contribution to this book.

All our love,

The Authors of WPaD

TABLE OF CONTENTS

-> Universal Connection ~ Poetry by Diana Garcia

Memories Fade ~ by Mike Cooley

POD ~ by Chris Benedict

Hollow Heads ~ by Marla Todd

Children of Chernobyl ~ by David Hunter

Robomancer ~ by Michael Haberfelner

Escape From the Planet of the Deviants ~ by Skeet Beecham

Ca’thals ~ by Diana Garcia

Bonk ~ by Lea Anne Guettler

Rescue ~ by Lea Anne Guettler

The Dark Side of the World ~ by Mandy White

Descending Raven ~ by Samantha L Nocera

Rocket Cats are Go! ~ by David Hunter

Skip ~ by Mike Cooley

Syns ~ by J Harrison Kemp

Brain ~ by R. James Turley

Spectrum ~ by Chris Benedict

The Alienation of John Bailleaux ~ by Debra Lamb

The Immigrant ~ by Mandy White

Books by WPaD

Meet the Authors

UNIVERSAL CONNECTION

by Diana Garcia

I dig deep,

To feel the evidence of me.

I scratch my tawny skin and see

Stardust fall upon the surface.

It reminds me: that I belong here.

I am your connectivity,

Your power surges.

We are whirling embers

Streaming from chaos.

This alien ore is OUR soul,

Infused.

Molten.

Creating new worlds in our desire.

Dancing across galaxies.

Miniscule.

Seeding:

Transported along the asteroid highway, from beyond.

Atoms stream from your mouth:

The brain matter of your philosophies,

Radiate erudite in all its complexities; and

Enfold like silken webs into my extremities,

In surging nanite waves,

Electric.

It all reanimates into a lifeform,

As fragile as glass,

Iridescent pyrite glimpses rain

Like kisses upon humanity.

Yet, expansive beyond the far fletched fecundity

To gather momentum,

Ready to implode:

To generate more of US.

Sparks like comets,

Fall from our eyes.

Our words are gods

In that cosmological cafe.

Copyright © 2017 Diana Garcia

MEMORIES FADE

by Mike Cooley

THE WORDS DON’T COME out right anymore. People think I’m crazy. My wife took my car keys away. Can’t sign my name anymore. I tried to explain to her about my experiments, but all that came out was, Science. Chemistry. Brain.

She looks at me like I’m already gone. It hurts.

I set up notifications on my phone to keep myself on track, but I keep forgetting to look at it when it buzzes in my pocket. I put signs up in the lab to keep my focus where it needs to be. They often look like they are written in the wrong language. I’m getting close. I can feel it. But it’s a race against time. And time is winning.

I’ve tried over and over to pinpoint when my downward slide started. But it’s difficult to remember the point at which you stopped remembering. There are artifacts that give me clues: the last time I was able to sign a check, the last day I drove my car, the last time I said something without a struggle to put the words in the right order.

I record little video clips for myself, to show where I left off on the experiment. They help. Sometimes.

The contraption looks like a big salon hair dryer, but I know it’s much more than that. It’s a sonic neural stabilizer. It says SNS on the side in big black letters. I sit under it and flip it on to give myself moments of clarity. It’s painful, and blood oozes out of my nose. The effects only last fifteen minutes.

I wonder if I’ll be able to perfect the device before my brain slides out of my ears. It feels like my head is packed full of Jello. Each time I use it I experience a smell from the past: dry leaves, lightning storm, orchids.

That doesn’t look safe, says my wife, Chandra, looking at the metal helmet and cables. Her brown eyes show worry beneath her blonde bangs and her hands are clenched.

Sanscrit. Implode. Paranoia, I answer, gesturing expansively with my hands.

She gets that sad look on her face again. The one that makes me angry at my condition. And angry at her for not understanding that my heart can’t take it when she looks at me that way. I turn away so she can’t see the anger and humiliation in my dark eyes.

Parabola. Lightning. Aldebaran. I enunciate each word carefully, hoping against hope that she will pick up my meaning, but she only looks more confused.

I kept scribbling on my pad of paper, drawing the nanobots that were going to save me from fading away into an empty shell. I figured I could adapt the ones I was working on before my mind started to betray me. Those were supposed to help the Ministry of Agriculture with their corn experiments. But now I needed to modify them so they could fix my neurons... without killing me.

Around me, in the library of our house, was an assortment of machinery I had borrowed from the lab. It wasn’t safe for me to go there anymore since I didn’t think I could make it back without losing my way. I needed to be in a controlled environment where I could use what little time I had left before my mind abandoned me like dust in a whirlwind of despair.

Chance. Small. None. I slammed my pen down into the table in frustration.

Chandra jumped at the loud noise, backed away from me, and then left the room in a hurry.

I REMEMBERED BACK, to a time when my symptoms had barely begun. My mind latched onto memories of the research I had been doing on patients at Northwoods Nursing, and the discovery that had started the proverbial ball rolling... downhill.

Are you my son, Gerry? Martha asked, looking up, her pale blue eyes showing desperation. She was wearing a flower print dress and sitting near the windows in the common room at the assisted living facility.

I finished attaching the wires to her head and leaned back. All sixteen of the multi-colored wires were connected to a small grey box with a multitude of amber lights flickering across the top. Yes, Martha. I am here to see you, and make sure you are doing okay.

What are you doing to my head? Martha reached up toward the wires and felt them without pulling them off.

Keep your hands on your lap, Martha. I need to take some measurements. Remember? I pulled her hands away from the sensors and initiated the recorder, by flipping toggle switches on the side. It was a crude device, but the best I could construct on short notice.

She shook her head no, but let her hands fall to her lap. You always were the smart one, Gerry. She smiled and traces of memories long gone passed across her eyes. She was wearing a pearl necklace and silver earrings and looked like she was ready to go dancing.

I watched the indicator dials register her brainwaves and data scroll up the small display screen in the middle. There was a faint smell of coconut, which I assumed was Martha’s perfume. Tachyons? I tapped the dials in frustration. Why would there be tachyons?

Did I do something wrong? Martha looked up from her chair and frowned.

No. No. You are doing everything right. Hold still and I’ll be back in a moment.

I walked over to check on Dan. He was in his eighties and could only remember fleeting glimpses of his childhood. Everything recent was gone. His family had endured as long as they could, but they finally stopped coming to see him since he didn’t know who they were anymore.

Is that a car coming? Dan was looking out the window of the nursing home. He was dressed in a button-down khaki shirt and navy blue slacks. His hair was thin and white. What year is this?

That’s a streetlight, Dan. I rested a hand on his shoulder and looked down into his bright blue eyes.

I think it’s my Mother. She said she was coming. She was going to meet me after school. Dan leaned forward, pulling the wires from the brainwave monitor tight.

I gently pushed him back into his recliner. Hold on a few more minutes. I need some more readings so I can correlate the data.

Dan nodded and relaxed. His eyes were glued to the streetlights beyond the window, lighting up the dusk. It was after dinner time, but the sky still showed a hint of red through the clouds. The moon had not yet risen.

I used to walk to school with Penny. Dan turned and looked up at me.

Yes.

She was a pretty girl from Memphis.

She sure was. Do you know what day it is, Dan?

Dan’s face turned to puzzlement as he searched his memories. Tuesday?

He always said Tuesday. I nodded. There was no reason to upset him. It would interfere with my readings.

IT WAS DARK AND SLIVERS of moonlight streamed through a layer of clouds. I searched my tattered memories, but the last thing I remembered was Chandra, at the house. I looked down and noticed I was bleeding. In my left hand was a black box with a single silver button on it. Wires ran up from the box to my head, where they were fastened onto my skin with tape. Where am I?

A pretty blonde I didn’t recognize stepped out of the shadows to my right and pushed the button. She was wearing an iridescent green garment that clung to her like paint.

Lightning danced across my vision and I fell to my knees. Pain exploded in my head. I looked up at her. She was curved, like light around a gravity well. I’m married.

She laughed. I know all about you. My name’s Emma. I’m not here to take your virginity. I’m from the future. Come with me.

Does this have something to do with the tachyon traces I found when scanning the brainwaves of my test subjects? I stood up. My legs were shaking. I could smell hyacinth and metal.

We have to go now, the conduit isn’t made for matter this size. Emma motioned me closer. There was a green glow around her feet that wavered like water under sunlight.

I took two steps closer to her. My thoughts began to jumble. Ambivalent straggle weed.

It’s kicking in, said Emma. Another memory scrape.

I struggled with my tongue and neurons, then nodded my head.

She grabbed my hands and pulled me against her, which was an altogether unexpected move. She smelled like moonlight. Fibber flop.

I bet you say that to all the girls. Emma smiled. Hold on tight, or you’ll lose an arm. I built this machine from spare parts.

She tapped her wrist and gestured with her fingers like she was playing an invisible harp. The dank alley swirled around us like a whirlpool and then everything went dark blue with a tremble of ground underfoot.

THE SLAP STUNNED ME. I refocused my eyes and saw Emma.

She was grimacing in pain and pulling away, trying to break free.

I could feel my hand clenched around her arm with force and fought to release my fingers. I’m. I’m.

She pulled her arm away from me and started rubbing it. Her skin was bruised where I had latched on. There was fear in her pale blue eyes.

I never meant to. The fear was the worst part. I never wanted to cause fear when my episodes happened. I looked at the ground.

Emma nodded her head. I know you didn’t. The machine causes severe anxiety. Haven’t worked out all the kinks yet. She reached down and flipped off a switch on her belt.

Guilt raced through my chest like mercury. My heart was pounding and blood dripped down my face. Where are we?

2149. This is where I’m from. She spread her arms.

All around us was an expanse of sand and rubble.

But where’s the city?

The cities are gone. That’s why we are digging through the past.

Through our memories, you mean. You need to explain how you do that.

There is a device. It’s a sort of memory scraper. Emma pointed toward a blue glow on the other side of a large dune.

Flargle narb. My lips failed me and my words made my thoughts freeze. I pressed the button on my portable neural stabilizer and closed my eyes against the jolt of pain. I fell to my knees and blood oozed down my face.

That thing is going to turn your brain to ash. Emma pointed at the black box in my hands.

I need to disable the memory scraper, and save everyone. I rubbed my head. There was a buzzing inside and I could feel my thoughts starting to break up. I’m losing it again. I sank to my knees.

I will take you there. But if you turn off the device we will all die. There aren’t many of us left. Emma looked around us, then up at the charcoal sky, where no birds flew.

What are you searching for in our memories? I struggled back to my feet and the entire sky swirled around me. The air smelled of dust and death.

All the bees died. Which means food is running out. They are trying to use the memory scraper to fix that.

I don’t see how scraping memories is going to fix that.

They are trying to erase the memory of the man that invented the nanobots that killed all the bees, and prevent it from ever happening.

But so many people are being affected.

The targeting is... not optimal.

Do they even know who the man is?

Emma paused, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. They think it’s you. You’re a biochemist, aren’t you?

My mouth dropped open. Me? I’m a neurophysiologist.

So you have never worked on genetically modified agriculture?

Well... I thought back to my last job. I did some research involving using nanobots on corn. But I never sent AgroCo the results.

Maybe you do? Emma met my eyes.

WE HAD BEEN WALKING through the remains of civilization for what seemed like hours, but I knew it hadn’t been that long. Familiar smells and sounds were missing in this future.

Emma?

Yes? She turned and looked at me over her shoulder.

Why didn’t the people here send you back in the first place to kill me? There would have been no need for the memory scraper.

No one here knows about my time travel experiments. I didn’t want the research to fall into the wrong hands.

So you figured out time travel all by yourself? That’s amazing.

Well, not really. I based my research on the memory scraper, which uses a plasma field to induce tachyon bursts. It was invented by my father.

It’s a long way from tachyon bursts to sending yourself back in time.

Emma nodded. The matter equation took me four years. Then two more to build the belt. She reached down and grabbed the front of the device, which looked like a series of metal hexagons wrapped around her waist.

How long has the memory device been running?

Four years.

But it has been affecting people in my time for a lot longer than that. And the effects are appearing all over the world.

The beam is too wide and deep. They have been trying to focus it directly, but it’s more like a flamethrower than a laser. It leaks through time and flows through space like a viscous oil.

Can you take me to the day they first switched on the memory scraper?

Possibly. Why?

It’s the only way I can fix things. If I destroy the machine here and now, everyone back in my time will still be damaged and their minds will not recover.

Playing with time is a dangerous game.

Says the time-traveling girl...

I can take you there, but I have to do something first. You stay out of sight and I’ll be right back.

Emma led me to a small building at the edge of the remnants of the city. It was an old storage locker and was filled with dirt, dust, and empty cans, which were rusted from age.

My thoughts swirled and I sat down on a metal chair. Bumble origin. Left hand of light. I grew angry at my mouth betraying me again.

Emma placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned down. I know it upsets you to lose control of your mind. I’m sorry we did this to you. Stay here.

We are here. Emma knelt down and pointed toward the north at a building made of grey stone. She was carrying a silver box, which she set down on the ground next to her.

When do they switch it on? I peered out from behind the rock wall.

Emma looked at a fancy device on her left wrist. Ten minutes.

When I blow it up, things will change. I looked into her blue eyes. I might be dooming you to save myself.

Emma smiled and opened the silver box. Within was a honeycomb crawling with bees. I found another way.

I pulled her to me and held tight. Thank you for everything. You are a beautiful genius.

Emma returned my embrace, then tilted her chin up and kissed me. I hope your wife will forgive me.

I nodded then memorized her face and her smell. I didn’t want to let go, but I did.

Then I crept forward toward the building housing the memory scraper.

I sat down with my back against the gray building and hit the button on the neural stabilizer one more time. I couldn’t afford to lose my ability to put one thought after another once I was inside.

On the outside wall was a keypad. I entered the numbers Emma had told me then slid through the open doorway on my belly and looked around. There was only one person in the room, a white-haired man with thick glasses wearing a blue lab coat. I guessed it was Emma’s father and kept out of sight. He was on the far side of the room adjusting dials.

The memory scraper looked like a glittering spider, laying on its back, with it’s legs spinning a silver web in the center of the room. There was a soft glow coming from it, but it wasn’t active yet.

I placed the four charges I had brought with me around the base of the spider, switching them on. Each timer was set for ten minutes. I kept low and moved silently to avoid detection. The inside of the building smelled like glue and hot wires.

You there. Who are you and why are you here?

I stood up. I’m a friend of Emma’s. From the past.

But that’s impossible.

Implausible, I corrected. Fantastical. But not impossible... as I am here. I spread my arms.

You can’t be here. I’m about to activate the memory scraper so I can save the planet.

Doc. I hate to tell you this, but it’s time to run.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the chamber with me. Then I started to run. He pulled back, trying to get away, but I held firm. I could see Emma stand up, in the distance.

The explosion was thunderous. The shock wave sent me tumbling through the air. When I stood up I could see Doc to my left. He was dazed. And I could see Emma in front of me, through air that seemed to swirl.

Emma and Doc shimmered and then disappeared. Then the world around me did the same.

I WAS SITTING IN A chair in my lab. My laptop was open in front of me, on the desk. I quickly navigated to the folder where my corn nanobot research was stored and deleted it. Then I did a disk clean of all deleted files so I couldn’t get it back.

Chandra came in and handed me a cup of coffee. Are you feeling all right?

I looked down at my notes and the instruments in my hands. Sure. Just trying to figure out a cure for Alzheimers.

A cure for what?

Alzheimers.

Are you making up words again?

My mind was crystal clear. The cobwebs were gone. Words were coming out in the right order.

I looked up at Chandra and started to cry.

Copyright © 2017 Mike Cooley

POD

by Chris Benedict

THE WATER TASTES STRANGE - salty but sterile - without the organic tang I am used to from the ocean. Every ocean and sea tastes different, but this tastes like none of them. I draw a breath, and the air is also sterile.

Where am I? I thrash with terror as disorientation takes hold. But a small, rough spot of warm pressure against my skin and a familiar voice soothes me. Reminds me I am not alone, I am with friends. I hang, suspended in the warm water, waiting for memory to return.

Somewhere a mechanized voice cheeps and whistles. Kay-Kay-Three-Five-Two, respond, it repeats patiently, until my brain begins to process it.

Kaykay, wake up. Come on girl, a non-mechanical voice urges, along with a warm pressure along my side. Come on, it’s time to work. Rise and shine, my beauty.

I feel my forehead buzz and know that I’m sending out a series of sonar clicks. A fuzzy picture emerges. I’m in a narrow tank. Beside me, a smallish figure with four strangely elongated flippers is my source of comfort. Nicky, my handler.

Present, I manage to send in the pidgin-language they have taught us. The mechanical voice translates my cheep of acknowledgement into a word that my handler can understand.

Within the hour the disorientation fades. She reminds me of our location and our mission, and the machine dutifully provides translation. I’m on a planet the humans call Nalu, some unimaginable distance from Earth. The planet is covered in water, and we are here to make land for the colonists to inhabit.

Ready, I transmit impatiently when she queries. The small tank opens and I spill over the edge into cooler water. It is salty and it tastes like no sea I have ever known, in fact it tastes nothing like Earth at all. It puzzles me. And then I figure it out – no sick-sweetish tinge of diesel laces this water, no bitter plastic, no earthy tint of raw human sewage... It is clean. Like nothing I’ve ever tasted. Pure.

I clamp down the panic that seizes me. My handler has told me that this is a strange place. I know. It’s just that, up until this moment, I didn’t quite believe.

We’re actually on an alien world! Can you believe it?, burbles Teeker, sliding up next to me and pressing against my side as we swim circles in the enclosed, central waters of the floating station. His slick skin soothes me the way Nicky’s