The Eternal Cycle (Collected Stories and Poems)

By Sandy Raschke

The Eternal Cycle is a collection of fourteen speculative short stories--science ficton and fantasy, and satire and light horror--and a selection of poems, gleaned from twenty years of publishing in the small press.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandy Raschke
• Release date: Aug 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536556414

Book preview

The Eternal Cycle

Collected Stories and Poems

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Copyright © 2016 by Sandy Raschke

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First E-Book and Paperback Original Edition August 2016

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the copyright owner, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles and/or reviews.

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Published by Sandy Raschke on the Draft2Digital Self-Publishing Platform

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Printed and digitally originated in the United States of America.

Praise for Sandy Raschke’s

The Eternal Cycle

Collected Stories and Poems

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...The Eternal Cycle is a fitting title.  Here is a combination of fun and harrowing stories about humans that we can relate to—with satisfying or scary endings that make you think and possibly cringe; they include sci-fi, fantasy, and real life horror stories that are on our doorsteps now... I enjoyed the striking ideas and beautiful imagery in the poetry also.  Highly recommended.

~~Joy V. Smith, author of Detour Trail, Hidebound,

The Doorway and Other Stories, and

host of the blog: Writing News Updates

(http://pagadan.wordpress.com)

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Sandy Raschke’s The Eternal Cycle is Out of This World! Really! This book of standard narratives and speculative/sci-fi fiction follows the tradition of famous fantasy writers like Jack Finney. I particularly liked the stories with the sci-fi angle. From Iris who battles a computerized vending machine to Pederson Newcastle who has bought a franchise of Dreamers Universe, the characters in The Eternal Cycle often match wits with scientific progress. It’s a love-hate relationship with the future.

Techies will have a field day with this book since it appeals to the post-modern taste, while older readers can get up to speed with the younger generation. The stories are humorous, engaging and thought provoking. Hang on to your hats, Earthlings, and let your imaginations go with The Eternal Cycle. 

~~George A. Ivins, author of Mr. Tomorrow’s Last Prophecy,

Intrigues Among Us and The Homicidal Detective

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Lots of fun stories—and not so far off the mark of our world today, with laws specifying what people can eat, grueling work conditions for lower-level employees, out-of-control scientific experimentation, and much, much more, including Sandy Raschke’s skillfully crafted and unEarthly poetry.  The people in these tales may seem to be at the mercy of forces running rampant in a future of Raschke’s imagination, but they find ways to beat the odds. Raschke’s readers are the better for it, too, discovering that being a human isn’t so bad and enjoying the entertainment value of these amusing but (at heart) serious pieces.  Well worth a venture into worlds beyond, and yet springing from, our own.  Hurrah...

~~G. Miki Hayden, short story Edgar winner/

Writer’s Digest University instructor

For iconoclasts,

visionaries & dreamers—

without them, the world

would still be flat.

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Acknowledgments

This collection of short stories and poems is the product of more than twenty years of my involvement with the small press.  The title story, The Eternal Cycle, (first published in 1992 as Film at Eleven), appeared in the personalzine Fade Away and Radiate, edited and published by the late A.J. Sobczak. He then introduced me to Calliope, a Mensa-sponsored newsletter for writers. Over the next three years, the following stories were published in Calliope or placed in fiction contests: I Shall Never Go Hungry Again, The Black Hole of Revision, Spring Cleaning, and Nine Lives.  All were subsequently reprinted, a few multiple times, in other small press publications. The Collectors was the last story to appear in Calliope, as part of an editors’ feature in the November/December 2004 issue (#106).

Who’s Next? was first published in Issue #21 (March 2001) of UpDare?; Playing Doctor in Symphonie’s Gift #3 (1995); Here and Now (In Real Time), in FAYRDAW (February 1997); and Please Wait to be Seated, in the Exile Press anthology, Contemporary American Satire 2 (1992). With the exception of Calliope, all of the above publications have ceased operation.

The poems were selected from my first chapbook, Female of the Species, published in 1998. 

I’d like to thank my first reader, Brenda Halford, a dear friend with a sharp eye, who found typos that I’d missed and gaps in some of my storytelling. Without her encouragement, this collection would have never come together. And in memory of two long-time friends, Polly Thompson and Angela Torassa, for their unwavering support, generosity, and spirit. Also, Robert A. Hall and George A. Ivins, for their guidance on self-publishing.

And to Richard, my husband of almost fifty years, who continues to gently guide me away from my Luddite tendencies whenever they arise.  Thank you.

Who’s Next?

"Hi!  I’m Clark—your World Burger Team Member-in-Training.  May I take your order please?"

I’ll have two Meta-Burgers with cheese, two double-chocolate shakes, a mega-sack of spicy-curly fries, a mixed green salad with oil and vinegar dressing on the side, and an iced tea.

Card please.

Janesca Dupree handed over her Universal Smart card, humming to herself while the fresh-faced clerk swiped the card through the reader.  Twice.  First day jitters? she said in jest.

Smiling weakly, he tried again.  And again.  After two more fruitless attempts, he hit a key and watched as a piece of tape scrolled out.  Clark looked it over then handed Janesca her card.  No can do, he said cheerfully.  Next.

Wait a minute, Janesca said, blocking the customer behind her. What do you mean? My credit is good. My salary was posted yesterday.

Look at the read-out.  It indicates that with only one-third of this order, your allocated fat-gram intake for the month will have been exceeded by 75%.  If you would like a fat-substitute, World Burger will be happy to accommodate you. With a smile approaching a sneer, Clark pointed over his shoulder to the electronic billboard hung on the wall. "You can make your selection from our, uh, alternative menu."

But this isn’t all mine, she protested. I’m having the salad and the iced tea. The burgers, fries and shakes are for my husband and son.

"Then we’ll need their cards," Clark replied. He sighed heavily, as if he’d heard this story one too many times before.

You mean I have to go all the way home, pick up their cards and come back? Janesca heard murmuring and twitters from the customers behind her.  That’s ridiculous.

No, Clark said.  "They have to be present with their cards, to order."

You’re kidding.  Janesca furtively scanned for the hidden video cams. She was sure of it now—some asinine production company was trying to make her the foil for a stupid human trick.  Well, she wasn’t going to be the butt of anyone’s jokes.  Since when? She stared into the pea-green eyes of the gangly kid behind the counter, one she estimated to be not much older than her own son.  Who was home, working with his dad...and hungry.

Clark backed up.  It’s the law, ma’am.

Then it’s a ridiculous law. Janesca’s voice rose in spite of her attempt to modulate it.  "Look, I do this all the time.  No one has ever returned my card before.  It should be obvious to anyone with a brain that I’m ordering for more than one person."

Clark, saying nothing, momentarily glanced away.  Janesca saw his finger tapping its way toward a red button.  He was trying to distract her!  Why? Was he calling the police?

Hey, citizen, came a male voice from down the line.  Some of us are awful hungry and in a powerful hurry.  So, why don’t you just step aside for now and let us order.  The hearty nods and yeahs that followed implied little support for Janesca’s position.

Moments later, a prim, impossibly thin, middle-aged woman rushed out from the kitchen.  She had a harried look on her face.  A square laminated card reading Ida Relco, Team Manager, was pinned to the lapel of her crisp, tan linen blazer.  May I assist you? She motioned Janesca toward the condiment bar. We’ll talk there.

Next, said Clark, his voice breaking as the customer behind Janesca stepped up to the counter.

Janesca glanced behind her. The usual weekend crowd had grown substantially since she’d entered.  They snaked out the door, down the walkway and out into the parking lot. Was there a new promotional giveaway she hadn’t heard about?  Had World Burger changed its menu?  Have I missed something? she said to the Team Manager.

The law, ma’am. Phase Two of The Healthy Citizens Act went into effect at midnight. Anyone ordering a ‘fast food product’ must present his or her own smart card.  Anyone making a group order must have a special authorization on file.  Ida Relco breathed out and swaying slightly, politely smiled.  If you’d like an application, we do provide them as a convenience for our customers.  She forced her thin lips into a robotic grin and went on.  The application fee is fifty credits.  Each designated group member must consent to allow access to his or her GlobalWeb account for contemporaneous caloric and nutrient update. She drew in her breath and let it out slowly.  I’m sorry for the inconvenience.  It’s been a little hectic here today. There is a mountain of regulations to work through, and we’re short of help. As usual...

Janesca felt as if her brain had just been dropped into a vat of hot oil.  "Can’t we compromise this one time? I come in here at least once a week, doing the exact same thing—ordering for three.  I promise that if you give me my order, I’ll drop off the completed application tomorrow on my way home from work."

As Clark said, ‘No can do,’ Ms. Relco replied.  "The law is the law.  And your ignorance of the law is no excuse. And, she said, bobbing her head toward the surging mass of humanity in front of her, if I gave into you, I’d have to bend the rules for everyone else here."

Another round of angry murmurs swept down the line.  The same loud male voice that demanded Janesca step aside, now boomed: Hey! Just how long are these so-called ‘applications’ supposed to take, anyway?

Ms. Relco stiffened. She glanced down the long line of customers, most of them now looking not only impatient, but hostile.  Six weeks, she said calmly, more, or less. She laughed slightly. Heh, heh...you know how the bureaucracy works.

You’ve got to be kidding, Janesca and the loud voice said in unison.

"This is fast food we’re talking about, not a passport, Jenesca added.  What are they going to do, analyze our entire medical histories?"

Ms. Relco steeled herself.  So I’ve been told.

As if Ms. Relco had just bumped into a hornets’ nest, the murmurs suddenly turned to an angry buzz.  Bull crap! someone yelled.  "It’ll