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Strains
Strains
Strains
Ebook41 pages37 minutes

Strains

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Two years after humanity defeated an invading alien force, Alex enjoys the remnants of a normal life. A little apartment, a regular job, a busy commute, and, as a specialized contractor, working outside. Although the fighting is long over, the world is just a little bit different. Like, the cities are flattened and a wrecked starship hangs around in low orbit. Repetition breeds normalcy, and after a couple years the lifestyle of alien invasion survivor isn't so foreign. It is normal because Alex believes the bad times are over.

Unfortunately, the bad times have only just started.

Strains is a short science fiction story.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherStephen Cote
Release dateMar 28, 2021
ISBN9781005898496
Strains
Author

Stephen Cote

I am a software and security architect and manager. I enjoy writing hard and whimsical science fiction, adult fantasy, and poetry. As an early advocate of Creative Commons licensing, many of my short stories and poems have been available online since 1996.If you would like to learn more about my writing, open source projects, please contact me at sw.cote@gmail.com.

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    Book preview

    Strains - Stephen Cote

    Cote, Stephen W. Strains 21

    Strains

    Stephen W. Cote

    Copyright © 2013 by Stephen W. Cote

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author at sw.cote@gmail.com.

    Strains

    There's been a development.

    Alex pried his eyes open from exhausted sleep, staring blurry-eyed at the shadowy canvas of ceiling. Am I dreaming? He reached for the WavePhone/Clock and knocked the ovoid to the carpet. Damn. He rolled onto his stomach and probed around the carpet piles for what felt like a porcelain egg.

    Just leave it, his wife murmured, and tightened into her coil of blanket.

    Alex!

    Damn it. He recognized the microwave-pulsed voice in his head. It's Jun from work.

    It's the middle of the night. Tell him the war is over, we won, and it's okay to get some sleep.

    His arm dangled over the side of the bed, fingers lingering atop the carpet. That's right. Unequivocally defeated, the military had said. The enemy soldiers were dead or imprisoned, their spaceships and technology belonged to Earth. What's so urgent?

    Alex! Jun must have raised his voice because the WavePhone/Clock pulsed blue.

    Alex stretched over the edge, planted his hand atop the flashing ovoid and fumbled on the smooth exterior before taking hold. He set the ovoid on the nightstand, and on the ceiling it projected the time, three fourteen in the morning, against a backdrop of waves rolling ashore.

    Turn it off! his wife hissed.

    I'd better make sure he's okay.

    Alex and his wife had been lucky to make it through the war with nary a scratch. Jun had not been so fortunate. Alex turned on his side, propped himself on his elbow and looked at the WavePhone/Clock. He mouthed, without speaking, "Yeah, I'm here."

    "You have to come to work. Right now."

    "Right –"

    "Right now. I can't - can't go into specifics."

    And the tone of Jun's voice pulsing in his skull took him back eighteen months when midnight calls were frequent, alien bombs and plasma fire rained from the heavens, and total annihilation lurked above the clouds. Then, a war with aliens raged and humans had nothing comparable to the alien's spaceships or plasma weapons. While they had iron and steel, pluck and unity, those only won wars in fiction. But, somehow, against impossible odds, they did win.

    Early in the war, the military asked the labs to anticipate various scenarios, and Jun's scenario came to mind. An alien ship's orbit had decayed, a self-destruct had been triggered, and falling reactor debris would irradiate the atmosphere.

    "Is this a code – some kind of fish?" They had long since run out of colors.

    "No, no, forget the codes. You have

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