Vixen and the Time Portal: and other stories

By Kara Hartz

A con artist doesn't know how to react when her lies become true.
A robot has a secret that changes a marriage. 
A fox becomes a time traveler.
Two lovers don't know who to trust.
Aliens, monkeys, and chickens travel the stars, and many other fun tales make up this short story collection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Broken Snowshoe
• Release date: Dec 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781536529760

Book preview

Alien Pet Care

It was shaping up to be another day without a lunch break. Why oh why did people let their pets get into the garbage and medicine cabinets, and run out into the street? Then they had the nerve to question the cost to fix them. Well, you had the option to not let them eat poison and cause car wrecks, but sure, it's all our fault for needing to scrape out a living while cleaning up after you.

Heather took a deep breath. It was just the hunger and exhaustion. Really, she would never to choose a different life.

Doctor Vaughn came into the treatment room. Heather, go get the Durgeto from room three for xrays.

Sigh. Durgetos were creepy. She didn't understand why people kept them as pets. The novelty factor probably. They liked saying they had an alien for a pet. She was amazed that creatures from Titan with its wildly different atmosphere could live on Earth at all, let alone thrive the way the Durgetos did. The veterinary community has been scrambling to get up to speed on their biology. This hospital was one of only three in the state that could care for them, so they saw a lot of them here.

It was sitting on its bottom, like a hairy piglet with long arms and legs. But the smile - it was the smile that revolted Heather. Some people said it was cute. They were wrong. It held out its front limbs as she approached, they reminding Heather of tentacles because there were too many joints. One had a swollen lump and moved stiffly. Ah, that's the reason for the rad. The creature tucked itself against her chest as she picked it up and clung to her making its version of a purr that rumbled but varied in note so it was almost like a melody you could feel.

Okay, maybe she did understand why people liked them. She might too, but only if she could train hers not to smile.

The Last Chicken

The rooster walked along the fence line, head bobbing with each slow step. The last hen had passed away that morning, and so had Catlin and Ron. Fern had stuck the rooster in the brain scanner yesterday just out of curiosity - he'd still been acting normally then - and he had the prions too. She guessed the chickens had gotten it from eating the local bugs. Well, not bugs really, since this wasn't Earth. Just tiny alien invertebrates. To the chickens they were only bugs though.

They said the rescue ship was on the way. Maybe still a week out. The crops were all in good shape. Better than the livestock or the people anyway. As long as she washed things carefully, Fern would be fine for food. She hoped the others would still be around to make the trip back with her. A few were only showing early symptoms. They should make it until the ship arrived at least. Hopefully they wouldn't be too far gone for treatment.

Part of Fern wanted to gloat, but she just couldn't muster the energy for that much vindictiveness. Not after watching most of her friends die, one after the other. She remembered how they had teased her, when they brought down that huge native ungulate. Enough to feed the whole colony. But not Fern. Soft, namby-pamby vegetarian Fern. She wished it was funny to think back on.

The rooster is moving slower today than yesterday. Swaying slightly when he stands still. Fern knows the rescuers won't take him along when they come. She pushes the button for the gate and the latch opens with a click. She swings it wide and walks out, not bothering to close it behind herself. Let him be free while he can.

The Way Home

The hooded figure leaned on the bridge railing, looking down into the swift flowing creek just a few feet below. There was a break in the rain that day, but the sky was still dark. It always made me dizzy to watch the water flowing under my feet the way this man was doing.

I knew Wes wouldn't send me into any danger. Still I took a startled step back, and felt my heartbeat jump when the man turned toward me, and yellow glowing eyes shone out of the cloak's hood.

Margaret? It inquired in an accent I couldn't place.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Thank you for coming. It said.

I nodded again, more calmly this time. Funny how manners seem safe. My voice failed when I first tried to speak. I coughed to clear my tight throat and managed, Wes sent this for you. He's sorry he couldn't come himself. and held out the basket my husband had given me to bring here. Wes had asked me not to look inside, and I hadn't given it a thought. Now I could hardly stand not knowing.

Thank you, it said again. A metal hand emerged from under the heavy cloak and grasped the basket handle. I had difficulty moving as the silver, shiny hand pulled the basket effortlessly from my tight grasp. I stood there like a simpleton, my now empty hand sticking