Altered Visions
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About this ebook
A short-story collection.
Meet a post-aocalyptic woman cage fighter, an old woman who holds the key to free will, a woman sheriff who serves up her own brand of justice, and others, in this salute to speculative fiction and strong women.
From the Foreword by Lizzy Shannon, Time Twist: "If you’re like me you grew up with the Twilight Zone, Amazing Tales, and the original Dr. Who. Classy, complicated, character-driven plot lines. Leading characters that enthralled and fascinated. Tales told with surprising and unexpected outcomes. I’ve missed them - until now."
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Altered Visions - Pam Bainbridge-Cowan
ALTERED VISIONS
Speculative Fiction
Pam Bainbridge-Cowan
i
Copyright © 2012 by Pam Bainbridge-Cowan
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Windtree Press
818 SW 3rd Avenue, #221-2218
Portland, Oregon 97204-2405
http://windtreepress..com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Altered Visions
Pam Bainbridge-Cowan
1st edition
ISBN 978-19423687-8-6
Format: PDF
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to fans of speculative fiction, be it in the form of science fiction, fantasy, horror, supernatural, superhero, utopian or dystopian, apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic, slipstream, or whatever allows us to escape this reality.
FOREWORD
I first met Pam Bainbridge-Cowan at my book launch party for A Celtic Yearbook. Even though she was recovering from the worst cold bug to hit Oregon in decades, undeterred she was at the center of the party, supporting her comrades-in-writing, NIWA, and welcoming me, their newest member. I remember thinking that if her writing reflected the vivacity of her personality, then we were all in for a very special treat.
I wasn’t disappointed.
When she asked me to write this foreward, I had already devoured her short story in the NIWA 2011 anthology, Magic of Mayhem. So it was with great anticipation I opened the first page of Altered Visions. And you know? Altered vision is exactly what I got. These ten expertly-crafted tales took me places I didn’t expect to go. If you’re like me you grew up with the Twilight Zone, Amazing Tales, and the original Dr. Who. Classy, complicated, character-driven plotlines. Leading characters that enthralled and fascinated. Tales told with surprising and unexpected outcomes. I’ve missed them.
Until now.
In Altered Visions, Pam Bainbridge-Cowan weaves deliciously convoluted tales with appealing, strong characters, reminiscent of those favorites, but with female leading lights. Tales so compelling I ended up reading the entire book in one night. She tells me this is her second published work. I find that hard to believe. Her style has the polish and distinction of an old-timer. She’s fast-paced and hard to stop reading once you’ve started. Altered Visions is a perfect showcase for her insatiable imagination. After reading this book, when you meet her and look into her eyes, you’ll wonder what speculative story is plotting there behind their sparkle. With Pam Bainbridge-Cowan, nothing is as it seems.
So, give your mind a vacation from the mundane. Strap in and prepare to be transported to another realm by Altered Visions.
Lizzy Shannon
Northern Irish author of Time Twist (Dragon Moon Press) and A Celtic Yearbook (Sheffield Publications).
CONTENTS
WARNING: This collection of short stories may contain characters who are strong, intelligent, purposeful women!
––––––––
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my family, Jim Cowan, Jason Bainbridge and Jeanne Bainbridge-Chavez, my sisters, Sibylle Lugo and, Barb Duncan and a special thanks to Raechel Duncan for the Leongarry dragon. I hope you all know how important you are to me, despite how seldom I remember to tell you.
I would also like to thank the members of the Northwest Independent Writers Association, my friends and my tribe.
With a special thank you to Lisa Cromwell, talented writer, long time friend, and long suffering editor.
GOD GIRL
(A little post apocalyptic tale about the choices we make.)
I woke up because God Girl’s cough was worse. No wonder, since the house we were staying in had a leaky roof and no heat. The walls were spongy with water, and black mold climbed halfway up them. I don’t think I’ve had worse accommodations, and considering where I’ve traveled that’s saying a lot.
Someone had tacked thick sheets of clear plastic across the windows, probably trying to keep out the cold and wet, but all they’d accomplished was to darken the feeble, gray light even more.
I was lying there feeling sorry for myself, listening to the percussion of rain drops falling in buckets and jars, trying to persuade myself to climb out of my warm blankets and check on God Girl, when the door slammed open.
What is it with apprentice trainers? I’ve yet to meet one who isn’t loud with authority and sick with ego. Maybe it’s the has been
or want to be
that infects them. Whatever it is I want no part of it, and I’ve long since earned the right to ignore them. I turned over trying to do just that, ignore him, find sleep. It was not to be.
The apprentice stomped up to God Girl’s bed and yelled, Rise and shine, sweetheart. Time to go. You’re up in an hour.
This drew a groan from both of us. I turned back over and opened my good eye. She’s in no shape to fight
I said, She’s sick.
I gestured toward her flushed face. He was too dumb to be expected to notice the obvious.
He gave me a nasty grin and said, Thanks, Caryn. They’ll take that into consideration when they figure the odds. Good tip.
God Girl moaned and tried to sit up.
I beat her to it, swinging my legs over the side of my bed and hunching against the sudden cold. I’ll do it. I’ll fight for her. Leave her alone.
You can’t fight. You’re a mess. You can barely see.
I touched my swollen eye and blinked at the stabbing pain. Yeah, well they’ll take that into consideration when they figure the odds.
Captain will never . . .
Let me worry about Captain. Just go tell him to change the boards – and send a med tech to check on God Girl,
I added. He gave me a look that was all threat, so I opened my good eye all the way, even though it hurt my bad eye to do it, and stared right back.
He moved on, but not before giving me a smile that promised punishment. The threat was less powerful than his sickly-sweet aftershave. I wasn’t impressed by either.
You shouldn’t fight,
said God Girl. She had lain down on her side, facing me and pulled the blankets up, so all I could see of her were wisps of blond hair and dark, sunken eyes. He was right. Captain is going to be mad at you.
Don’t worry about Captain. I’ve been around worse. I know how to handle him.
You were with the sex guild,
she said. I forgot. I bet you learned a lot about men.
I did,
I agreed.
I thought sexing would make you rich,
she said in a hoarse whisper.
I nodded. It can, if you’re good at it. I wasn’t. About all I could do real well was take a punch.
Like now?
Yeah.
Sounds awful. Men liking to hit you like that.
Women too. Not so many, but some,
I told her. I was enjoying having someone to talk to. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had two minutes to do nothing but sit and chat. All I’d done since Captain bought my contract was train and train, and fight, and train some more.
I liked God Girl. Her real name was Joy, but we called her God Girl because of her wings. Captain thought she was built like an angel. I’d never seen an angel, but I thought she was built like a young boy. She had hardly any boobs or hips, just a long skinny torso. Plus, her skin was white as a statue, and she had fine, blond hair.
Captain had found some wings made with real feathers from a white bird, and had her put them on before her first fight. You’d think they would have called her Angel, but some drunk in the crowd had yelled out God Girl and it stuck.
Yeah, women can sure be mean,
said God Girl. You been real nice to me though.
I shrugged.
So how come you aren’t still sexing? Guild didn’t want you?
God Girl asked bluntly.
Got in trouble,
I said, memories of Jonathan flooding my mind, like an unexpected mountain storm floods the rivers. I got the Governor of West Idaho mad at me.
How come?
asked God Girl.
I got up, took my blanket and crossed to her bed. She was shivering. I put my blanket on top of hers.
Mmm, that’s nice,
she said. You better climb in.
Yeah?
Come on.
She rolled her eyes like asking why I was making such a big deal and then scooted over.
I slipped in beside her, lying stiffly on my back, and felt waves of heat rolling from her body. Even so, her teeth were chattering. I didn’t know what to do for her. In the Guild we always had med techs who took care of us when we were sick.
Tell me what you did to piss off a governor,
God Girl asked, and rolled toward me, draping her leg across my legs and her arm across my waist. She was so thin, I could barely believe she was a fighter.
I let his son fall in love with me. His name was Jonathan and he was sort of famous in the Guild. Even before my release date, the day they let you start offering your body to clients, I heard of him. People said he liked to hurt, but he never left permanent marks.
That sounds awful."
Yeah, I guess, but it was still good luck to be chosen by him. He was wealthy.
I didn’t want to go into how kind Jonathan could be, or how good he could make me feel. It would sound too much like I was making excuses. Better to keep emotion out of it and tell only facts. Luckily, he liked virgins,
I continued. So it wasn’t a complete surprise that he asked for me, though I wasn’t very pretty and no makeup could hide that.
That’s not true,
God Girl rasped.
Hush, rest, don’t talk,
I told her.
Only if you tell me about it.
Deal,
I agreed, and told her. They wanted me to do my best so they gave me some sleepy drugs and left me at his door. I was thirteen by then, had worked in the Guild’s up-city bar and brothels. Not sexing of course. You had to learn stuff and you had to work up to it. I was a runner the first few months, delivering messages, drugs, groceries, laundry and whatever else needed delivering. I even delivered someone’s dog once,
I said, smiling at the memory.
Sounds like fun.
"It was. People were nice to me. I was quiet, see? Most guilds are big on gossip, but if you want to work sexing, keeping your mouth shut about people’s business is very important.
God Girl hung on every word as if considering a career move. I thought, with her boyish body, pretty face, and the wings, she might do pretty well. I was about to tell her so when the door slammed open again, and the new trainer barged in with Captain right behind.
Getting you a little somethin’?
Captain asked when he saw me in God Girl’s bed with her head on