One Year of Instants (2022)

By C M Weller

Through the year of 2022, one author has been writing stories based on prompts from readers on the internet. Some were streamed live on Twitch. Take a walk on the weird side through worlds of science fiction and fantasy, and visit the strange, the bizarre, and the unexpected.

Dare you venture into the odd and wonderous worlds within? Where a wizard won immortality through an oath on the heart of a god. Where a Demon Lord becomes a thrice-sworn king. Where humans are space orcs, and even they fear beings known only as the Vorax.

Step carefully, traveller. There are no sensitivity warnings here. Read with caution.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C M Weller
• Release date: Feb 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215536230

C M Weller

C M Weller has decided to keep their full identity a secret until such time as one of their works becomes a bestseller. They share a house in Burpengary East with two children, two cats, and a spouse who sometimes thinks they're insane.Every October, C M Weller releases a free short story, in honour of both their birthday and All Hallow’s Read.Unfortunately, this author has managed to avoid doing all the things that make author bios interesting reading. Sorry. However, ze has been publishing stories via Smashwords since 2012, and has an Amazon-exclusive novelette titled Free Baby.This writer is allergic to almost all forms of alcohol (long story), too asthmatic to indulge in tobacco, and in possession of a body chemistry that makes the more interesting drugs problematic at best. Thusly, their chief addiction is their own imagination.

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One Year of Instants (2022)

Published by C. M. Weller at Smashwords

Copyright 2023 C. M. Weller

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other works by this author:

Nor Gloom of Night

Good Boy Blowing Bubbles

Scavenger

It Happened One Wednesday

Hevun’s Rebel

Hevun's Ambassador

Hevun's Gate

One Year of Instants

Interview Inside a Terrarium

The Amity Incident

One Leap Year of Instants

Better

One Year of Instants (2015)

I Wish, I Wish

One Leap Year of Instants (2016)

Kung Fu Zombies

Comes Around

One Year of Instants (2017)

Well Rendered

One Year of Instants (2018)

One Year of Instants (2019)

One Leap Year of Instants (2020)

One Year of Instants (2021)

Grey Goo Ticky Tacky

For more information please visit my author site CMWeller.com.

Challenge #001: Well-Met by Firelight

A young child is lost deep in the forests. The parents were frantically searching, not knowing where their child was. They'd only taken their eyes off the little one for a short time while doing chores on the farm. But, kids wander away quickly. Fortunately, the monster found the child, and, soothing them kindly, brought them back to their home, much to the relief of parents who, when they first saw who was carrying their child, were terrified to start with. Now, they thanked the monster profusely. As it was late at night, they let the being sleep in their home, and ensured a good meal, so the being could travel safely at first light. -- Anon Guest

Tilal had begun by following a butterfly. After the butterfly had gone out of sight, ze picked flowers for hir parents. By then, ze was thoroughly lost. Tilal had tried to find their way back, but memory was never the strong point of a child not yet three years of age.

The flowers in hir skirt[1] were sad and wilting, but Tilal still wanted to bring them back home and make Mama smile.

But it was dark and scary, and the lights ze tried to follow were only fireflies. Until ze found a light that was not. A campfire! That meant somebody was out here.

Friend or foe, there were generally rules that travelers followed. Camps were neutral ground. And anyone coming across a camp had to ask to share the fire. The figure near this fire was big, but then everyone was big to a very small child.

Tilal made sure not to surprise them, edging around the clearing until ze was noticed. C'n I share y'r fire t'night please an' thankyou? Tilal squeaked.

This was not one of the kinder creatures of the world, by reputation. This was one of the ones who were big meaners in the stories. This was a Bugbear. All the flowers in their hair couldn't hide the tusks or the animal-like ears or the snout... All the soft-looking robes in the world didn't make a difference to the too-long arms or the claws on each hand.

It's all right, rumbled the Bugbear in a voice so much like a purr. This is a welcoming space. He hummed a few notes and fireflies came to dance around the camp. "I have some bread I can share. Are you very lost?"

Tilal nodded, and watched as a savage beast's hands broke bread just like Grampa did it. Along the seams.

My name is Oakloft, he offered the more abundant portion. The bread is fresh and good. The fire is warm. And I am no harm to lost little children, I promise. Mother Nature would not have gifted me otherwise.

Tilal still took it slowly. Step by baby step, closer and closer. Until the smell of the bread made hir lose hir inhibitions and accept it with a nervous, ...'nk you.

The Bugbear continued to not be a meaner the entire night. Bringing health back to Tilal's flowers and even creating a nice basket to hold them in. Oakloft could make the branches and leaves create anything, including a cot for Tilal that smelled of lavender.

The next dawn, Oakloft had magic to retrace Tilal's steps all the way to the farm. More accurately, all the way to the part of the woods where Mama and Da were next to madness looking for hir.

They took in the sight of Tilal perched on a Bugbear's shoulder remarkably well, all things considered.

Halfway between abject horror and the polite joy of having a new pet, Mama and Da welcomed Oakloft into their home. They took turns between yelling at Tilal for wandering off and being thankful to the gods that all was well.

The Bugbear Druid showed his gratitude for their hospitality by blessing the fields into abundance, and then giving some sage advice for further seasons. He was content to wander off, following his own omens.

If only the rest of the world could treat him the same.

[1] Gendered clothing for children is an invention of the 20th Century. For most of history, children of any gender wore dress-like garments.

Challenge #002: Hello, You Are Mine

An ordinary kitten: adorable, cuddly, and gentle, is following a Havenworlder around everywhere. Every time the Havenworlder sits down, the kitten is trying to climb into the feathers or hide under them. Once there, the kitten starts purring, glad for the comfort since the Mama cat is nowhere to be found, and they had searched a lot. What's a person to do? -- Anon Guest

Podargian Wutu settled onto a public perch and once again boggled as the tiny baby predator clambered up to nestle under their feathers. Once there, it started rumbling. This was not hostile behaviour, according to the guidebooks. This was a companionable noise.

Nevertheless, a Havenworlder was bound to feel nervous with a predator nearby. Even an apparently tame one. These were Terran creatures. They needed a Terran.

At least Wutu knew better than to throw a rock[2]. All they had to do was look distressed and concerned and a Human would appear. They couldn't resist it. One of the Station's Security personnel, already tasked with preventing trouble before it became a problem, appeared to ask, Are you having a problem?

Wutu shifted their wings to reveal the little fuzzy grey predator. It keeps following me and pressing itself against me.

As if in demonstration, the tiny predator, still rumbling, pressed its head against Wutu's side and rubbed vigorously.

Ah, said the Security Staffer. Their nameplate declared them as Birren. I see. That's a kitten, and it has evidently chosen you to be a companion, they leaned over to wriggle their fingers into the kitten's fur. You can check with Pest Control, but this little one looks like it's got good manners. You might not even need a chip[3].

I wish to return this creature to its family.

Birren chuckled, scanning the beast. That's not how they work. Cats tend to choose the people they want to live with, and this little lady has chosen you.

But-- it's a predator. What does this mean?

First, they're a nice predator, and it looks like she won't be hurting you at all. And second, Birren made a comforting gesture, congratulations on your new cat.

[2] Some cogniscents have tested the reality of the axiom, You can't throw a rock without hitting a friendly human and found it to be true. However, it is not advised.

[3] Habit inhibitor chips exist strictly for animals, and are generally used to stop harmful behaviour, like making biscuits on a Havenworlder's more fragile skin.

Challenge #003: The Real Enemy

Their people were on the brink of rebellion. True they were insanely wealthy, they owned entire solar systems, but that means nothing when everyone, even their security, was ready to turn on them. To PROVE that all the people were given was good for them, and the health measures worked, they decided to live for one month like the average citizen of their worlds. Within two weeks they were so sick they could barely move, wracked with pain, and no access to any medical care until they called an end to the experiment and used their money to get something to eat and get cared for so they didn't end up in one of those slum-hospitals. Holy hell, they didn't know it'd gotten that bad! It was time for a change. -- Anon Guest

Listen, said CEO Pantonthurst Dillataunt-Smythe, "I think there's been something of a misunderstanding. I'm your benefactor. If you kill me, you'll throw the entire economy into chaos."

His bodyguards, weapons still trained on his head, were not impressed. "Maybe we want some chaos. And you're not as good for us as you think you are."

Desperate, backed into a corner, Pantonthurst said, My systems work, and I can prove it. Just let me prove it. And that was why, more or less, he was walking the streets in his tighty whities.

Set loose in one of his slumlands with no access to his fortunes, Pantonthurst had had to sell his suit so he would have enough money for a meal and a place to rest. What he had just learned was that the by-the-hour sleep niches were full of bedbugs and everyone who laid eyes on him recognised him as a sucker and overcharged for everything.

With the last of his money in a relatively unsavory place[4], he found his way into a store with a Help Wanted sign in the window.

Where he also learned that he wasn't overcharged. Decent food was just that overpriced. The indecent stuff sold for so little, but had all the nutritional value of the plastic it was wrapped in.

Unskilled labor was exhausting, he learned. He had to constantly be in motion, and the only reward for a job well done was another job. Nobody cared if it was done well. Only that it was done quickly.

Mop the floor. Make sure it's dry enough but put up the Slippery Floor sign anyway. Stock the shelves, and do it quick. Help that customer, and the customer is always right. Even if they want their ice to stay in the bottom of their cup when that contravenes physics. If you don't make the customer happy, then you're out on your ear and they get free stuff.

If you can lean, you can clean, if you can walk then you can run. If you can stand up, you can work. No, there's nowhere for you to sit down. KEEP MOVING! Slackers wind up in the camps where it's work or die. Do you want to die, Slacker?

Even with horrible plastic food with cardboard on the side, Pantonthurst could never afford anything more than a bedbug-infested sleep niche. Medical clinics had a book-before-you-get-sick policy. Doctors who wanted to treat the slumland denizens were few and far between.

Emergencies came with bills that cost almost as much as a car.

Public transit was filthy, loaded with the homeless, and also expensive. Pantonthurst still had to use it because, if he walked to work, he would have to start out before he got 'home'.

In a way, he was lucky that it only took him a fortnight to get sick. Many denizens of the slumlands were sick all their shortened lives.

Pantonthurst called a surrender, and called his accountants to make some essential reforms. Reforms that the people had been crying out for since before he inherited his company.

Too bad for the world that the board of directors had him declared insane and passed the baton onto yet another CEO exactly like Pantonthurst had been, before.

Revolution was therefore inevitable.

[4] Considering his lack of clothing options, he only had one pocket left.

Challenge #004: First Night Away

Young Vee and Rawr were sitting and talking by the fire while others were having tea, or having some sleep. They spoke of how they met, of what their lives were like before they began to travel together, of the close bond they have, the equivalent of uncle and niece.

https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-02854-g297-here-s-one-we-made-earlier -- Lessons

Amatu was learning things. In this case, learning how a Bugbear and a Human could be related. And, in the case of the Human, how she could have draconic heritage.

Technically, we both have draconic heritage, said Rawr, his mismatched eyes looking out over the night. Her da was adopted by Lady Anthe, same as me.

We say we're cousins because we're more or less the same age, said Vee, poking the fire that gave her wings a more demonic appearance. It's less confusing.

"Less confusing. I hate to ponder what more confusing looks like," said the half-Tiefling, half-Aasimar Halfling By Adoption... and also Hero Foretold.

Wraithvine, apparently still meditating, said, The world is complex by nature. People wanting to sort it only make it increasingly complicated. Both eyes opened, glowing slightly in the night. "You children all need some proper rest. It is past your bedtime and Lady Anthe would test my immortality if she knew you were all up this late."

I'm almost a man grown, objected Amatu.

Almost only counts in Horseshoes and Fireballs. Neither of which are being employed here. Bedrolls. Quick now.

Grumbling, the three tucked themselves in for the evening and at least pretended to go to sleep. With Wraithvine keeping watch, Amatu whispered, Do you think you could get scales, Rawr?

"I think the gift from Vee kind'a blocks that. Then again, my brother Marvin didn't get any Draconic traits. I dunno how it works, I just live here."

You won't be living well if you don't get any sleep, reminded Wraithvine.

He's such a grampa, groused Vee.

Occasionally giggling amongst themselves, they at least tried to get their sleep.

Challenge #005: Reluctance to Report

A Human from a Deregger world snores terribly and even sound baffling doesn't stop it all. Then, shockingly, the room goes silent for a few seconds before there's a sudden, even louder, snore and then the normal noise again. They worried for him and had an observer in to check why it went quiet sometimes. The observer noticed the human had, for a brief moment, stopped breathing! They were worried the human would, one day, not start again. -- Anon Guest

They had purchased their Ships' Human from a Deregger world, and the therapy was still ongoing about that. Human Yun came with a lot of issues, such as not initially trusting the deal.

But... you bought me. You decide what happens, was a frequent objection from her. Especially whenever she was given choices.

It was especially disturbing when they attempted to look after her medical wellbeing. Advice was taken as orders. Polite suggestions were taken as orders. Yun was far too obsessed with the old Deregger rule of obey or die. Much though they tried to encourage her to have opinions, it was a battle.

They had to learn how to read Human micro-expressions just to get to her truths.

Such as her sleep issues.

The loud rumbling from her habitat was alarming, true, but not so much as when it stopped. The life monitors in her sleep niche[5] would set off alerts for extended periods of not breathing. Which alarmed the ship's Mediks, and then the Companions, and then the crew.

At least Human Yun would appear for her medical checkups, and not hide from them in the walls like some Rescue Humans were wont to do[6].

This gave them ample opportunities to try solutions.

Medik Em Bolis showed Yun the latest device, it fit neatly into hir palm. This will fit inside your mouth so you may be able to rest easier.

But I have sleep meds.

Medik Bolis tried not to wince. Those are not the best for you. We are aiming for natural sleep, like we are aiming for a balanced diet with enrichment[7]. Which is why we keep encouraging you to speak your preferences.

Once again, that look of nervous trepidation. I have to put that in my mouth, still.

"For a Standard week[8], yes. After that, we have another meeting in which I ask you if you like it or not. You are allowed to say if you dislike something. We want you to be happy here."

Okay, said Yun. She always said okay and then, in a few days or a few hours, would be back to her appeasing habits.

Bolis did hir best to be patient, showing Yun how to fit it into her mouth and explaining what it did. Then showing how to run the cleanser so that it wouldn't get gross over time. Then doing a few practice runs so that ze could be certain hir patient was doing everything correctly.

In a week, they would know how well it worked, if it worked for Yun. They would see the results of the device in her manner and behaviour in two days, but her comfort or discomfort was just as important.

[5] When a piece of furniture is also a lifepod, it definitely has features to monitor the health of the occupant(s).

[6] Greater Deregulations, especially, tend to penalise their workforce for having an illness.

[7] Various flavours of Nutri-Food(tm) bagged goo do not count as enrichment.

[8] Ten days.

Challenge #006: The Statistical Outlier

The human who followed the princess home became quite well educated in more than gal-simple. And not long after, all humans were welcomed into the Alliance, albeit, though many were wary, afraid, and some still openly hostile toward the race. But this human, until their death due to old age, refused to stop protecting the princess who was their first, true, friend.

https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-02027-e203-waifs-and-strays -- Anon Guest

The Humans, once they were fully welcomed into the Alliance, would tell stories about Arctic Wolves that traveled on the Russian train systems. After all, who was going to stop a wolf?

The same theory applied to the Human who followed and guarded Princess Grigri.

After all, they were ferocious beasts, a dangerous, savage child race. Capable of amazing feats of physical skill and prowess[9]. Compared to so many other species known to the Alliance, they just didn't stop. The one who called themself Fazl hadn't done anything to harm Grigri. Or any of her associated Graacil entourage.

It was, admittedly, quite a shock to learn that such a brick of a Deathworlder had the intelligence to master GalSimple. After the communications issues were solved by fixing their livesuit[10], shouting was no longer necessary. Then Human Fazl picked up more than a smattering of GalStand Complete.

The creeping realisation that the dangerous omnivore was smarter than they sounded horrified many. What, they reasoned, could they possibly be plotting?

Princess save Fazl life, the Human explained. Owe life to Princess.

It was many Galactic's introduction to Human manners. Bare the teeth to show that they are not being employed against anyone. Show an empty hand or offer it to prove that any weapons will not be employed. Never turn the back towards somebody important. But... also show parts of the back as a sign of deference.

Humans were confounding. Human Fazl doubly so.

While the Human followed Princess Grigri everywhere, they remained a statistical outlier for years. Proof, some said, that Humans could be tamed.

They're all right if you're anywhere near the Edge, some would sneer. "But you have to leave them there. Yes, one is tame, but the entire bunch are wild things, loaded with problems."

And then a tea lady from Britania saved two vessels - one her own - from disaster. She had no other motivation other than that people needed help. Especially funny-looking dinosaur people she didn't always understand.

They couldn't truly deny it any more. Not after the re-discovery of Planet Amity[11]. Humans were not merely tameable, they could be friendly.

They certainly spread their pack-bonding to anything and anyone that crossed their paths. The Queen Grigri, still guarded by Human Fazl, put the motion to the floor of the Ambassadorial meet.

The vote, to reclassify Humans from Hazardous Deathworlders to Mostly Harmless and also, Insane. Fazl didn't object to the 'insane' part. Having seen the Alliance's version of sanity, they acknowledged that Humans were the furthest thing from that.

[9] Later research revealed that these feats were records set by exceptional Humans.

[10] The accident that lead to their meeting had damaged Fazl's in-suit speaker system.

[11] See the case file, The Amity Incident available at Smashwords.

Challenge #007: Kintsugi's First Step

Not long after this poor, broken, shell of a man met Unty Vrax, there was an accident. Vrax was trapped under debris, pinned, badly bruised, and in serious danger. The human, adrenaline shooting through them, despite more debris falling on them damaging their prosthetics, dragged the debris off and got Vrax to safety. Despite getting hurt, Vrax was safe. And for them, that was the day, they truly started to heal.

https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-02486-f296-some-of-parts -- Anon Guest

This was the Edge, where civilisation as the Alliance knew it crept up on all those who lived there. With civilisation came Community Services, whether the residents liked it or not. With civilisation came Community.

Unty Vrax had been Human York's unofficial therapist for weeks before the Human asked for a little help with things about her domicile. In this case, moving some plants into their habitat to adhere to the new laws about air maintenance[12]. What it was turning into was a remembrance garden.

The bright flowers bought a smile to York's face and moisture to her eyes. Pokki loved these. Said they were like fireworks but plant. The potted plant went into the new soil and gained a painted stone marker with the name Pokki.

The tree was another tribute to a lost friend. The name Darnl sparked another chain of stories and another spate of soft mourning. Scars beginning to heal.

It was several trips, and York warned Vrax about the garden emporium's shelving several times. It wasn't either of them that sent the improvised shelving toppling. A rogue trolley collided with a strut.

Plants, pots, and bags of soil came crashing down. So too did the planks and loose bricks that made the shelving. Vrax felt York try to push hir out of the way, heard a yelp and then... crushing weight and a difficulty in breathing.

Not again, not again, York was saying, panting. Sobbing. "Notagain, notagain, notagain, notagain!"

Scraping and clinking. A continuing diatribe of, no's, chained together into a desperate babble. A sudden relief from the weight.

The sight of a very frantic Human, artificial limbs flying, tears streaking down her dust-covered face, scrambling to get Vrax free.

The artificial claws that could easily pierce Vrax's flesh were surprisingly gentle when the Human lifted hir out of the debris. Even more surprising was the tremula present.

You're alive. You're okay? MEDIK! We need a Medik over here! Then Human York went back to the pile. Making absolutely, positively certain that nobody else was underneath the rubble pile.

They needed two tranqs to calm her down to the point where she would let the ERT's work on it instead of her.

It was still a mental mountain for York.

"I saved one. I could save one. I did it, I saved... Like the flick of a switch, they went from surprise to anger. Why'd you get close? I'm a danger to everyone!"

Are you? said Vrax gently. Keeping the same distance ze had upon their introduction. It looks to me like you saved my life from shoddy shelving.

I didn't save Pokki and Darnl and Blikko and Jorn...

Vrax asked the same question that had been unanswered for months. "Could you have saved them?"

I tried. I was out of it, and they... I couldn't save them. They made a choice. Full tears at last, as the internal dam broke. It was a bad flakking choice...

Finally, some healing could happen as the truth came in.

[12] Plants rarely break down and require less maintenance than the algal air recycling systems still in use.

Challenge #008: You Humans and Your Rituals

The Vorax has been practicing, watching the vids of the game, studying the humans movements and coordination. And they request a rematch, besides, that was.. kinda fun.

https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-02472-f282-gg-tho -- Anon Guest

Lesson one of the paint marker game: Clean camouflage colours are actually worse for you. The arena is marked with assorted paint splotches, and one's best bet is to also wear assorted paint splotches. Or get them, which is a losing condition.

Lesson two: Humans are the sneakiest sons of dogs to ever traverse the stellar gulfs.

Lesson three: Hunting humans and virtually killing them is more fun than could be previously believed. The Humans even supplied caloric supplements via their 'pizza' that were shockingly overabundant.

California Deep Dish with all the 'fixins'. What a rush.

The only real downside, if one could call it that, was the Human 'comedy'. It played with language, expectations, common history, common knowledge, and spelling. Especially spelling.

What do you call a fish with no eyes? said one Human over the celebratory pizza.

Vorax G'klyth paused in chewing some salami[13]. Are there not some cave fish that have only vestigial eyes? I do not know the species?

"A 'fsh', G'klyth. It's a joke. Let's try an easier one at a babier level. What do you call a deer with no eyes?"

Deer does not have a spelling with the letter I. What is the answer?

No-eye deer.

Ba-dum-dum tssshhh... said a different human, deadpan.

G'klyth was still trying to parse the punchline. Why would you ask a question that has no answer.

The assembled Humans groaned. Babier than that, Doro.

Not my fault these guys don't have comedy. Doro cleared his throat. Let's try a demo knock-knock.

These words must have made sense the the Humans, but G'klyth was left baffled. More baffled. Intensely baffled.

Knock knock, said Doro.

Who's there, chorused the rest of the Humans.

Lettuce.

Lettuce who?

Lettuce in it's cold out here.

One of the responding Humans sang, Ba da-da ba da dum.

I do not understand, said G'klyth.

Is it too late for chicken jokes? wondered Doro.

[13] The less said about Vorax eating orifii, the better. Just... don't ask.

Challenge #009: Viral Integrity

A new virus is sweeping the Deregger empire! The deregger leadership is forcing people to wear masks, making, 'gasp', REGULATIONS to wear them! The leadership is running terrified, anyone found to be infected is immediately imprisoned. They even consider begging the CRC for help as it mutates each time a vaccine is found and will not combine with the immunoflu! The virus has a dangerous side effect. So dangerous it could rip their empire to SHREDS! CEO's and other leaders are locking themselves in fortresses hoping to avoid infection! Though the virus has not killed a single being, it does FAR worse! It alters the mind! Those who get infected become completely, and incurably........ incapable of uttering, or writing, even one single lie.

They called it POF-32, and every time it was almost under control, a new variant would emerge. Usually from the people protesting the laws and rules put in place to prevent its spread. It wasn't remotely lethal, not at all, but it did alter the brain.

That was the one talking point that the media attempted to create terror about. They tried to make people scared. They tried to make it sound like it would melt people's brains. They even tried to make it sound immoral.

It was an effort doomed to failure.

POF-32 in all its wide array of variants was everywhere. Newscasters in the middle of their timeslots would come down with it, ignore their teleprompter, and tell the truth.

This virus is completely non-lethal and only targets the small cluster of neurons responsible for the ability to lie. Whilst devastating to those who create fiction for a living, it has no other impact on human physiology, said Muddok Jan. In further news, all reports saying that I choose my wardrobe for broadcasts are false. I have to wear what they tell me is sexy or they will literally kill me. My career would be over the instant I hit thirty-five, and it's definitely over now because I caught POF-32.

As they dragged her away, replacing her with a younger understudy, she yelled, The initials stand for 'Pants On Fire'! As in 'liar liar'! They don't want to catch it because they never want to tell you the truth!

That was unwanted, smiled the New Jan[14]. Let's go to the weather...

They tried, but it was too late. Everyone in that Deregger polity was catching POF-32. The CEO's deep in their bunkers with their Executive Food Printers and telepresence technology had no other option.

They called the Cogniscent Rights Committee for help.

Please, they begged. "We want to be able to play golf again. To pick a new wife again. We want to have charity dinners[15] together again. Help us stop this plague on our world!"

The CRC smiled like a snake and said, "Who do you think gave you that virus?"

[14] Female hosts on Deregger news media only have to be sexy. Names are irrelevant and it costs money to change the thing at the bottom of the screen that tells viewers who she is.

[15] Where the charity is to raise money for the next charity dinner.

Challenge #010: Gezundheit

Warning to all pirates! Do NOT mess with a human child's teddy bear! -- Lessons

Midshipman Hayk had been sent to pacify the Human Larvae. It was a simple job, or so Captain Staaz had claimed. They couldn't possibly flakk it up, he said. They were helpless infants. What could they even do?

The universe has ways of answering questions like that.

The Human Larvae present seemed to be harmless. Most of them were asleep on mats. The ones that were active were bumbling about without any apparent thought in their fluffy little heads. What they were also doing was making a mess. Almost absent-mindedly, Hayk picked up the first object they nearly stood on.

It was a cloth effigy of some kind of animal. It had, at one point, been covered in fluffy fur, but patches of it had been worn away by frequent handling. One of the eyes had been replaced with a button. A foot had been frequently patched and darned.

One of the larvae, previously playing with plastic cups and saucers, shrieked, Woobie my Woobie! and threw a toy teapot at Hayk. No! Mine!

Three other larvae, woken by the noise, started up their own wails. Some of the active ones began screaming. The aggravated infant kept yelling variations of, My Woobie, and, Mine! Givvit, in-between throwing whatever came to hand.

Several of those objects almost activated parts of Hayk's control panel.

There was only one thing to do - make an example of the instigator. Hayk picked the creature up by the back of their coveralls and held it up.

You will be silent, Human scum!

The Larva was not impressed, kicking and screaming, "Wanna wanna wanna Woobie! Gimmie Wooobiiiieee!"

One lucky kick, and a relatively unlucky sneeze, and it was all over for the Pirates.

The child in question had a wild and mild -to Humans- rhinovirus. One that Hayk and all their crewmates had no defenses against.

After all that the security measures could do had failed, the Pirates were destroyed and the Humans were saved by the littlest things... which the Powers and a certain lack of disease control measures had placed on board.

Challenge #011: A Specific Punctuation Mark

It's known, now, why human women have menses, and well documented within the Alliance's medical databases about human reproduction. However, what about those early years, when they were first getting to know more about humans? When human females were having their menses, especially when it was a young female who was having hers for the first time. How hard was it for them in these early days to realize that the humans bled like this for over a week, a heavy blood loss that would have killed most other races, and yet all the humans did was gripe about cramps and want chocolate? -- Anon Guest

[AN: If you do bleed for over a week and lose enough blood to give medical concerns, please consult your medical technician and DO NOT let them pass it off because those are both signs that something is seriously amiss in the uterine department. The actual average daily blood loss is something akin to two fluid ounces, and the lasting time is generally 4-7 days. Anything greater is reason for concern. This has been your menstruation PSA]

Human Ike was a Rescue, and that meant that the crew was watching out for her and any of her warning signs. At least until it finally sank in that she was not at any risk of, (a) being hurt, (b) being probed, or, (c) being eaten. She hadn't gone into hiding for months, and they had believed her initial trepidation to be over.

Until today.

Human Ike was not in her domicile, not anywhere in the easy-access areas of the ship. Not anywhere that required a functioning Livesuit to enter. Not in the more common maintenance access tubes. Which meant, for the first time since they had acquired Ike, she had gone to hiding in the air vents.

Companion Fien, preferred for hir gentle voice, went in with the temporary appeasement pack. This included: a fuzzy and squishy pillow, some sweet treats, a box of tissues, and a blanket.

Ze found Ike in a situation that would take more than that.

Ike was a miserable ball of tears when she spotted Fien, and became a ball of terror also as Fein shuffled closer. She shrieked and whimpered, trying to back through the grille that prevented creatures from colliding with the fan blades.

Fien had been through this before, and sat in place. Hello, Ike. We are worried about you. Did we do something wrong?

Ike sobbed, You don' have'ta pretend no more. I know what's happenin'...

Which would be a first, given that all her previous assumptions were incorrect. Can you tell me? I don't think I knew the plan.

Ike shifted her weight, showing a dark, reddish-brown stain on her lower Skins. I gots the red piss. That's when they do their business on ya and make babies. Gasping and blubbering. An' if you don't say yes, they make it so you don't talk no more.

Oh, so those were some of the rules of Ike's 'Bad Place'[16]. No wonder she was terrified.

That was the bad place, said Fien. We don't like the bad place either, Ike. We took you away from there, remember?

"So you could do all them things," mumbled Ike into her knees.

Oh dear. Square one, as the manuals might say. Fien said, It is dangerous to stay here, and you are leaking biohazardous fluids. We must maintain your health. We made a promise. Do you remember our promise?

A shuddering breath. Squeaked, I keep ev'ryone outta dang'r includ'n' m'self. An' y'all look after me.

That's right. You're in danger in here. If you come out, we will look after you. We will not make you sad if we can help it.

It took an hour, seven treats, and a lot of tissues to coax Human Ike out of her hiding place, where Medik Stent gave Ike the more scientifically accurate version of what was happening with her body.

Including the choices she had, and was free to change her mind about at any time.

No babies, sulked Ike, still in a huddle. An if'n you can make it stop, I'd like that too. Though clean, and in fresh clothing, she was still reluctant to leave the safety of a corner. This dang near scared the beans outta me.

[16] You can say Greater Deregulation, where the businesses are free to do what they like and the women aren't people.

Challenge #012: One Being's Torment...

On their world, theobromine is toxic. Extracted from plants that have it in its pods, as the prisoners are dipped into that vat of brown syrup, screams are elicited as the prisoner slowly poisoned to death in a vat of pain. The toxins creating agony before the being dies.

This prisoner, the human, was sentenced to be dropped in the vat. Why? To show all other humans that they were not going to be joking around when it came to the lengths they'll go to overtake their kind. The cage floor opens and they are in dropped down into the vat, only for the human to suddenly grin with delight and start eating at a furious pace and asking if the whole thing about taking them over was a joke. Oh, and can they have more chocolate after this batch is gone, too?? -- Anon Guest

[AN: I tried to find out if theobromine was a contact poison, I failed.]

Human Dax woke up with a splitting head. She stumbled her way to the water fountain and took a drink before realising, "Hey. This isn't the Bumbling Bampot..."

This was, in fact, a cage. A cell. which was now in motion.

Key factors made themselves known to Dax, such as the fact that the mesh floor was on a hinge. Or that all in-unit facilities were firmly attached to the walls. Or that heavy machinery abounded in this space. Or that all she was wearing was her Skins, and the mesh floor was starting to hurt.

There was a large vat of brown... something... coming into view.

A voice was saying something over the speakers, and the translator unit in her eyescreen implant was a little behind in translation.

"Us the Mightiest having weapon for the rendering harmless of you[17], witnessing now you the power Us the Mightiest having is for death."

Oh. They were going to throw her into the vat.

Dax briefly entertained hanging onto the bars or climbing onto the in-unit facilities. Alas, a cursory examination revealed that they were designed to tip, too.

The fall wouldn't hurt, but what the hell were they dumping her into?

Dax landed with a soggy splat into the not-quite fluid. That was when the smell made her realise what it was.

"Dark Chocolate... I freaking love dark chocolate. She scooped it up in handfuls, ingesting it eagerly. Guys, this is the bomb! Primo flavour, too." Sure, it was a little on the warm side, but Dax had always been a heat hog.

There was distant laughter. Her crewmates! They were okay. Good. Great. Wonderful. Dax sated her need for chocolate and clambered out of the vat. You guys got a towel? A washcloth? I don't wanna track chocolate all over your nice clean... whatever this is.

The leader of this band of attempted conquerors never got as far as the threats.

They adapted quickly, though, and learned they could gain better benefits by becoming chocolatiers.

[17] Autotranslator units have abundant flaws owing to context and grammar differences. You're better off hiring a JOAT, who can translate the meaning and not merely interpret the words in order.

Challenge #013: To Preserve Life

Despite the Alliance's best efforts, not all meteors are spotted in time. They were by a Pax Humanis sanctuary world when one is nearly to the point of striking. Not thinking of their lives, only of those on the planet, their ship plowed into the meteor, the resulting explosion knocking the meteor well off course and toward the solar system's primary while they, in their lifepod and very, very badly injured, plunge to the surface with the lifepod crashing into the heart of one of the few settlements on the planet. They were so badly injured they've nearly lost their life, but the Pax Humanis members, and their families, on this world, would at least not be harmed. The members of Pax Humanis are very grateful. -- Anon Guest

Beep. Hiss. Beep. Beep. That was Gorx's heartbeat. Soothing unmusic[18] wormed its way into hir oncoming consciousness. There was pain, but there were also drugs making it seem like the pain was in another room.

Gorx tried opening hir eyes. Facing the screen of an ICU drawer[19] that displayed soothing blotches and text in several languages. Large, friendly letters said, Don't panic, and, You are receiving Medical Care.

That explained so much.

The drawer rolled open and a Medic, a Therapist, and a rough-looking Human were looking down at hir. Gorx couldn't speak, not with the tube helping hir breathe. Fortunately, there were controls literally at hir fingertips.

Ze typed, What is this? Some kind of joke? When Humans came in three types, it was generally a joke.

Ze has a sense of humour, announced the Therapist. "Hello. You sacrificed your ship and risked your crew's life saving a Pax Humanis Sanctuary. The residents owe you all... favours."

The Humans told stories about wishes granted by supernatural beings. Fae, Djinn, a haunted and dismembered animal limb... the result was always the same. Not what they wanted, but what they said.

Pax Humanis were worse than any of the mythical things in Human stories. They could make things happen. By brute force if necessary.

Gorx typed out, I only wish to leave this world with my health and my crew's health intact, thankyou. No further gratitude necessary.

Ze could only hope that the Pax Humanis Enforcers didn't decide that that wasn't enough.

[18] Not a nameable tune, but melodic nonetheless. Think... meditation soundscapes.

[19] In space, room to move is premium. If you're already so sick you're in Intensive Care, then you also don't need to move very much. Further, you probably shouldn't.

Challenge #014: You Touch, You Die

There's one universal truth. Never get between a set of parents and their children. -- Anon Guest

The Universe has ways of answering the wrong questions. Those who know this never put voice to questions like, How bad can it get? or, What could possibly go wrong? It also responds to the terminally daft when they say, It can't possibly get any worse, because the first law of the Universe is that it was NOT made to be kind.

Some Vorax, like H'gaak, have yet to learn this. So when ze returned to the raider vessel, ze had no idea of the trouble it was about to cause. H'gaak had a small clutch of Havenworlder young.

The raid leader saw it and said, What the flakk[20]? She demanded. Why are you keeping ignoble-survivors?

I shall fatten them up for feasting. They are weak and easily tractable. They weren't even guarded. What trouble could they cause?

That, for those of you who know the patterns of reality, was where everything went wrong. At that moment, a mother discovered the absence of her chicks, and though she was little, she became fierce.

At the same time as Raid Leader H'vaaq asked, Did you kill the parentals? that one parental was donning her livesuit. Readying some of the more interesting weaponry as supplied by Humans[21]. Technician Jair tried a few experimental blows with it. This one was a light little thing. Made to cause the most damage in the least amount of time, with a minimum of force necessary to do so.

Ominously silent, a mother set off towards the Voraxian breach at speed. She did not scream, she did not purposely make any noise at all. Her mind was on giving them the least possible warning of her approach.

Sensible, given the circumstances.

After all, one never tells an enemy one is coming to kill them.

She made it onto the 'beak' of the Raider ship just as it was starting to withdraw from the ruptured hull. Worked her way inside just as it was beginning to close off. Technician Jair didn't waste a second, plugging into some panels and hacking the Vorax's airlock system.

Deathworlders. They always assumed their might and muscle could win the day, and therefore tended to leave electronic security to minimal possible measures[22].

She rendered their ship dead in the water in less than a minute.

With that advantage, she made her way inside and found Raider H'gaak counting HER babies into a large and uncomfortable cage.

Even now, she did not scream as she attacked. The Vorax's first warning was a face full of angry Havenworlder and a thorax full of sharp.

The chicks cheered, Get 'em, Mama!

Jair kept stabbing until H'gaak stopped moving. Then moved on to the next-most-daft Vorax because they were attempting to intercept.

They learned quickly, which was good for them.

Jair freed her young, moving them into a survival pod. At no point did she lower her guard or assume that the rest of the Vorax were now harmless. In that way, she was far more sensible than the Raiders.

She returned to her people with her livesuit spattered with Vorax pieces and ichor. A hero of a moment, safe with her children under her wing. The only mark of disapointment was that there wasn't any footage of the event. Therefore she could not sell it to the Humans for entertainment.

[20] Translated from G'g'kaalysh, the Vorax lingua franca, on the best-fit basis.

[21] Humanity - when you want something dead, suffering, or both, they have a weapon for that.

[22] Unless you're the Humans.

Challenge #015: The Terrors of Human Larvae

Q: How do you terrify a Vorax?

A: Stick them on a ship with a bunch of humans and tell them they're going to have to babysit the toddlers!

This exchange program is going to require the poor Vorax getting a large amount of therapy afterward. -- Anon Guest

[AN: Children should never be seen as punishment. No matter what the circumstances]

There was a nervous peace between the Humans and the Vorax. The Alliance was letting the Humans spread their pack-bonding all over the other dangerous Deathworlders.

So far, as the jocular falling man might say, so good.

Whilst the Vorax did have a name for themselves, it was not yet part of the greater Galactic vocabulary. Thusly, Vorax Q'ghaash had to put up with Vorax as his honourific.

The Humans had an art to creating food with too many calories, which did a lot to curb the Voraxian's natural appetite. They no longer needed to take six food breaks a day. They could concentrate on things for far longer than they were used to.

Was it a miracle? Was it years of Humanity focusing on possibly the worst food combinations they could come up with? Was it the fact that the deadliest things for a Human were also the tastiest? Who could tell by now?

The point, at least to Q'ghaash, was that Turducken existed, and various humans through the ages had added pastry, cheese, and especially sugars to the dish. The high point of Q'ghaash's day was consuming boiled eggs wrapped in quail, stuffed inside a duck that had been crammed inside a turkey, and then covered in pastry and dribbled over with caramel and cranberry sauce.

Only Humans could come up with something like that.

Q'ghaash sent regular reports home containing Terran Recipes dating back to the Pre-Shattering era.

He was very happy, and therefore honoured to be trusted with the Human's young. He was also wise to such historical figures as Human Pib, and therefore also nervous.

I am guarding these infants? They will not threaten me?

"They're not going to hurt you on purpose. Pris has been known to throw a dolly or two and Nils gets loud, but if you put on Prancing Pony Parade, they're generally quiet. Human Ash leaned in to whisper, Make sure you skip episode fourteen. They cry."

Noted and logged. And there are no peanuts or peanut-related objects?

Yeah we scoured the ship before you got in. You're good. We will attempt to get all the supplies in over two hours. Fingers crossed.

Fingers crossed, Q'ghaash did his best to imitate the Human luck gesture with Voraxian anatomy[23]. Good hunting.

Then he was left alone with four Human Larvae. Pris, Nils, Zed, and Yin. The worrying part was that there were no warnings or alerts for the other two.

In an hour and a half, they would all showing signs of distress, including Q'ghaash. The appeasing entertainment had been working, but the Human Larvae had the controls and purposely instigated episode fourteen.

They cried. Pris threw their dolly. Nils was screaming. Zed and Yin were holding each other and bawling their tiny little eyes out. Q'ghaash, trying desperately to administer warm milk and fluffy blankets, was beginning to wail himself.

It didn't matter that there was a happier episode playing now. They were all still upset that Princess Fantasticia had fallen into the briars where the monsters were.

The Human parentals found him desperately singing the Human Emotions Song to grumpy an un-appeased toddlers. The warm milk is not working, he pleaded. The fluffy blankets are not working. The songs are not working. Help?

Episode fourteen?

Episode fourteen.

[23] There's a lot more tentacles that might be believable.

Challenge #016: Faces of Gratitude

They have rescued thousands of Dereggers over their lifetime. And they are at home with their family bragging. Puffing up their feathers, they are so proud of themselves. They do it, not for money, not for fame, not for recognition, but because they care for the people they've rescued. But that doesn't mean they can't have a proud moment knowing of all those people who now get a new chance at life. -- Anon Guest

Tia Rruku had a wall of portraits in her room. Pictures, large and small, of Human families. Rubbery faces showing their teeth, and often holding little bundles that featured grumpy little faces.

They filled the wall from floor to ceiling, and it was a very big wall.

The first time Mev saw it, they had to wonder, "Who are they?" They were all strangers to Mev. They could put no names to the humans inside the frames.

Tia Rruku, recovering from a lengthy illness, sat up a little in her bed. Ah, those are my Rescues. The ones who got back to me, anyway. Many ran the instant I told them they were free, and never looked back. Their choice. It's always their choice. These are the ones who found me again and told me how their lives went.

There were stories, but after about three of them, Mev found the pattern. Once upon a time, there was a Deregger world where Rruku was just passing through. She could have made a profit on her trades, or saved a life. Every time, she chose the latter.

She made just enough to keep them alive until the next trading stop. Rruku never went through the process of claiming the CRC's bounty on freeing Dereggers, but they found her anyway.

She was never in it for the money. She was never doing it for vainglory. She did it for the Humans who were in chains, where their only worth was the price they fetched at auction. Those who spent their first weeks in abject terror of what she might do to them.

Tia Rruku bought them, took them to Alliance space, introduced them to Therapists, and otherwise made sure they had a good start.

Too many fled for the Edge, and far away from their point of origin, never to be heard from again. But, evidently, more than enough decided to show her how far they had come.

They're all smiling, said Tia Rruku. Showing how happy they are. They found homes, family, a new lease on life. They found their place, and I am glad.

There was a litany of names, places, and circumstances. Rruku kept a logbook of her travels, who she found and where. How their journey to civilisation was[24]. Where and under what circumstances she dropped them off.

Mev collated the list, the dates and times and so on, and asked the CRC if they had any records of the Humans who had not sent Rruku any updates. The response took a long time, because it was a very long list.

The result was at least three tomes[25] worth of data. Life stories. People who had been trying to find Tia Rruku with dim or unreliable memories. People who had given up on the search. People who were using ineffective methods to search. People who feared trying to find her.

...and one crew of documentarians who came to interview Tia Rruku in her garden...

Rruku, gently weeding, listened to the abbreviated stories of each Human she rescued. Of each one who was grateful. Saw the pictures they could now send her.

I'm going to need a bigger wall, she said.

[24] When people say journey to civilisation, they often mean a journey to a better civilisation, which is always a relative comparison.

[25] An unofficial unit of measurement, a Tome is a document of at least eight hundred A4 pages of densely-packed information.

Challenge #017: One Arrow, No Problems

They enter a village under siege. The village's heavy gates on their walls slammed shut not long after they'd arrived with a near army of zealots and slavers banging at the gates trying to force their way through. This army has already destroyed many villages, killed many innocents, and now they were trying to get this one. And worse, this village was backed into a box valley. It may now be up to young Kevin to help save them, along with help from his friends and family.

https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-03185-h276-divine-intervention -- Anon Guest

Ma Oxbrydl would not let Kevin go to the walls to see why they were locked in. He was allowed to climb one of the towers so long as it was well out of bowshot. Well. Enemy bowshot. Wraithvine came with him, because the immortal Wizard had the ability to create magical shields at will.

Ma Oxbrydl was allegedly looking for Venin, somewhere in the town below. Kevin had worried, at least once, that she was going to sort out the attackers. Which would turn out very badly for the people on the other side of the one wall of Hodlvale.

There were quite a lot of them. They were building siege weapons.

Think very clearly about what you want your arrow to do, said Wraithvine. Define it out loud.

I want the bad people to stop fighting. Kevin drew, making a glowing arrow form in the process. Before Wraithvine could stop him, he loosed.

The arrow flew like a poem, arcing its way over all of Hodlvale, landing with an expanding wave of light at the enemy line.

Wraithvine would never forget the sound of thousands of humanoid bodies hitting the ground at once. Later inspection would reveal that they were merely sleeping, and thus easily rounded up for fair trials.

Then, the distant sound of Ma Oxbrydl, who had found a megaphone. "Let that be a lesson to the rest of ya! Now go home and think about what you've done!"

The fact that they did lead Wraithvine to suspect that something was amiss with this particular prophecy. Or hir interpretation thereof.

Challenge #018: The Great Leveler

The Humans are dead. A futile effort to go against the almighty. Among the field of the fallen, one rose among the dead. Cloaked in black, it barely had any strength to stand. A barrage of concentrated plasma hit it dead on, as the dust settled, the only thing the barrage did was knock off its hood. It was no human, it lacked any flesh. It was just bones and in its desolate eyes was hazy blue flame. Its jaw opened, spilling an all encompassing black fog atop the field. An omnipresent voice rings though out the air ꁲꌅꂑꌚꈼ. As the fog touched the humans, their souls burned. Death is a simple farmer, for those that harm his crop will pay the price -- Anon Guest

They had thought that eliminating all the Humans present would eliminate all their problems. They were wrong.

Under certain circumstances, Humans can alter reality. Mass hallucinations melded with belief can cause fictions to form flesh. Or, in this case, not-flesh. At the moment of their demise, one unifying figure came to the thoughts of all those extinguished souls. One definite form known to all cultures.

Guide. Guardian. Grim. The Reaper stood tall among the field of former torment. Humanoid but not human. Robed in a black so dark that it swallowed thought. The aggressors discovered it, swinging a scythe over the fallen Human forms. Tiny flames issued forth, following the Reaper like ducklings followed their mother.

On one hand, the Omega Bomb had worked, killing all the Humans and leaving the infrastructures intact. On the other hand... this had happened.

Millions of voices screaming out in agony, only to be silenced, had had an impact on the universe.

The aggressors opened fire, only to watch the plasma bolts sail clear through the figure. Surviving records indicate that this was when it noticed them.

The face inside the black hood was a skull. Blue embers lighting the sockets and somehow the skull was frowning. It said five words, and all communications with the landing party were lost.

Later translations indicated that the deep, booming voice said, YOU'VE PISSED ME OFF.

Challenge #019: The Sword Often Loses

The man was a reluctant killer. Forced by his lord to slay any his lord demanded lest his own family be slain. He was sent after an Elf that, once he heard the name, knew that meant he would never see his family again. Not in this world at least. But the Elf, the mage, was merciful. In swearing to save the man's family, the man swore to find the families of those he had slain, and make sure those families were set up with protection and care, so the evil lord, and his brothers, would never harm them again. -- Lessons

Go out and kill Wraithvine the Eternal, said Duke Averl, as if it were the simplest of things. If you fail to return with his head, I shall give you the heads of your family.

Wilkinson was left with no alternative but to set forth and do as his Lord bade him. He had two tiny ones and a third on the way. He may never see them again, but if he set out and perished, the Duke could not punish those who remained. Not lawfully anyway.

To face Wraithvine in battle was to face death. So many had gone against the immortal Wizard and met their end.

In the case of Highborns and their realms of responsibility, that antagonism put the final punctuation mark on their history.

One life to pay for three, maybe four. Seemed fair. He had the guilt of four other targets weighing down his soul, anyway. This sacrifice might even out at least one of his sins.

They had been good people, when Wilkinson killed them. All they had done was attempt to make the Duchy a fairer place in which to live. Wilkinson knew that, in causing their deaths, he was not a good man.

Nevertheless, he could be honourable.

He tracked down the Elf of legend in a little dirtwater town where adventurers came from