WEP - A Change of Heart - Discovery

OUTPOST STATION NO. 6

Free Use Image-HS

A CHANGE OF HEART - DISCOVERY

In the last segment of this story, Odiwa, the station manager, told Noot and Mondero to scout the lower levels to determine if a 'radio' message about a raid was an actual threat. 

***

Noot and Mondero walked to a deserted part of Level 8, down through a maintenance corridor and stopped at an elevator. It didn't appear to be operational. No lights. No noise. Entry screen dark.

"What's this? Is it working?" Mondero asked.

"See that sign, it says Freight Only. That means I need a key, which I have, and I control which floor we stop on. Odiwa told me about this elevator a few months ago. Not many know it works. We can block certain floors if needed."

"You're a cagey one, Noot. I like that. So what's the plan?"

"Plan? I don't need a plan. We're scouting out the area. No one has been down to these levels for a couple of years now."

"That's reassuring. . ."

The mid levels contained much of the still operating machinery which powered the station air, the water and waste systems and a few isolated areas which had been designated as restricted. An empty holding area composed of individual cells was kept for the criminal elements.

"How do we know what's on all these levels below the main, Noot?"

"Exploration was a necessity when we first came here. Odiwa found an old map in what used to be the administration centre on this station and we went out in small groups. The first ten is where the existing population including us lives, the second ten is maintenance and holding cells. After those, we have made a buffer zone of ten more levels. No one should be in those levels, but there could be things like  radio transmitters, which could have been used by the controllers."

"Controllers? Who or what is that?"

"Nothing ominous.  The workers who guided the ships onto a beam for docking were called that. And below that buffer zone, we aren't sure what, who or how many may be living there. The air supply and other systems for water are still working. That's about it."

"It's just a matter of time before someone is going to get curious if the other levels are working. Do we take prisoners or talk to the perps?"

"Neither one. We are here to see what is going on. And that's all we're going to do this time, Mondero. Odiwa said to look, get as much info as possible and get back to him when we returned."

"That's fine with me. You lead when we get there, I don't know my way around. And Noot, if anything does occur, you can count on me to have your back."

"You do that."

Mondero kept silent as they left the elevator and Noot locked the control board.


***

With weapons drawn, the two men stayed together and began surreptitiously checking corridors to be sure they were empty. Noot put up a hand and signalled to the pilot to be quiet and listen. Some faint footsteps could be heard. They crept back into an indented doorway and waited.

CLICK. . .the two men heard just before a couple and a small figure came into the hallway. They were armed, but one was carrying a small child.

"Hold your fire, we mean no harm," Noot said before he stepped out in front of the man holding an old style laser gun.

"Who are you?" the man asked. "You're not a renegade, are you?"

"You'd be dead if we were. We're looking for those renegades you mentioned."

"Oh. You're from the upper levels?"

"That's right. How did you get that museum gun?"

"We found it, but it's got very little ammo in it. We're living in a hiding spot on this floor, and we keep moving about if we hear something we can't identify. I thought I heard some strange sound."

"The freight elevator made that, most likely. How did you get here?"

"We were with the 'Lost Ones', the colonists that left Terra during the final stages of evacuation, looking for a place to live. We had no luck but kept searching until our starship floundered. It was  taken over by renegades and we and others were brought here to be used as slaves."

The little boy, not more than four years, walked up to Noot. "Are you my grandpa?"

For a moment, Noot felt unsteady, a flash of deja vu enveloped him. Then, he stooped over to ask the child his name. It brought back memories of his own son. . .

"Me? I am Moby," said the child as he fixed his large eyes on Noot.

Noot felt a change of heart when he saw the small child, a little boy. He had a family, long ago, before he became a wanderer. Before his wife died, his world caved in and he went searching for the kidnapper of his son. He never found his son.

"My name is Mondero and this is Noot," the pilot said. "We're looking for raiders, someone we heard over an old radio receiver."

"We can give you information, as much as we have. I'm Dev and this is my partner, Jio," said the man.

"Good, but save it for the captain of the station. Is it safe for us to check without more people?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. The men we have observed don't look too accommodating, and they would likely shoot on sight."

"Fair enough. We will take you with us, under protective custody, and Odiwa can determine what we can do for you. I'd like a larger group before we proceed further."

"I don't know, Noot," said Mondero, "are you sure Odiwa will be okay with that?"

"Nope. But we will deal with that if we need to. I'm trusting you two know what will happen to you if you're lying to us?"

"We tell the truth. We want your help."

Returning to the upper levels Noot reports to Odiwa and turned the couple over to the captain for debriefing. A council meeting of the working crew was called. On this outstation there were no police, just experienced ex-military who acted as a reserve group.

***

This story series continues. . .is this couple legit? What type of armed group can they muster? Come back next time to discover tales of outpost life in the outer reaches.

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How would you like going into a unknown area, not knowing what you might find on an abandoned outpost station? 

Please leave a comment to let me know you were here and I'll respond. Thanks for stopping by to read my entry.

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WEP - Write, Edit, Publish, a flash challenge

It's time for another WEP challenge - with the support team of Nilanjana Bose and Olga Godim adding their imaginings and creativity. Thanks to Denise for being the host. We also want to wish Yolanda a swift recovery.

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WEP - The Road Less Traveled, An Outpost Story

Outpost Station #6 - The Far Reaches


A hermit doesn't seek or enjoy the company of others, unless circumstances require it. 

This bit of hermit wisdom described the wizened Old Man Noot. Not an ounce of fat on him, with long greying hair streaming from his beard and the top of his head. But when he looked at you, his bright blue eyes revealed a curious mind.

Noot, like many of the others who inhabited the abandoned space station at the edge of the Sirius system, was a space drifter looking for a place to stay off the grid, out of the mainstream and away from nosy authoritarians. He wasn't the first to show up at the station, where he had to sign an agreement before he was allowed a space in the eerie structure. This was a waystation for those who ran out of options, it provided shelter, access to supplies and was run by those who lived there. Working at odd jobs around the station was exchanged for a room and food supplies.

"Noot!" someone called out. The old man turned to see the station master, who was 'in charge'.

"Yes, Odiwa?"

"Got a job for you. It's down on level 15. I need someone to check the anti-grav equipment on that level. Someone reported hearing strange sounds coming from the room there. See if the equipment has been vandalized, or if it's a human problem."

"You think those new people may be filching stuff?"

"Possibly. Take your weapon and your wits, might need them."

"For the usual pay?"

"Depends on how much you have to do."

"All right, I'll do it, but I get to choose my options for the pay."

"Sure. If I don't hear back from you in a few hours, I'll send down a finder."

"Hmmph."

Noot didn't like the finders, all nose and no brains. He scrummaged in his equipment box for his spacesuit, the lightweight one, his tools, and a some extra ammunition. Never hurt to be prepared. He grabbed some emergency supplies and water. He was ready.

As he descended to the 15th floor, he wondered what he'd find this time. Last time he checked for noises he found a large family of rats. Rodents seemed to endure anywhere in an oxygen environment. Noot thought the rats hitchhiked on one of the early starships. 

All was quiet when Noot arrived on the 15th floor, so he let himself into the anti-grav room and cautiously entered. He didn't want to alert anyone or anything. He held his breath as he couldn't see further than 8 inches in front of himself. He activated his helmet light, just before he heard a noise in a far corner of the room. Grunts and mutterings reached his ears.  

Noot crept to within 10 feet of the corner and saw a human figure on a bedroll. He couldn't tell if the human was armed, so he gently told him, "Hello. My name is Noot, and I'm here to help. Identify yourself, please."

"Starship Pilot Mondero, recently on the trade ship Europa. Where am I?"

"You are on Outpost Station #6. We don't get drop-ins, Mondero, or encourage stowaways . How did you get here?"

"I'm a pilot, a starship pilot, who argued with his commanding officer. It didn't go well, so they deserted me here on this station, saying they would send someone to rescue me."

"Are you going to claim refugee status?"

"I don't know."

"What noise were you making? We got a call about the amount of noise in this apartment."

"I wasn't wrecking the equipment, if that's what you mean. . ."

"Never mind what I mean, get up and grab your gear. Have you got your identity docs?"

"Yes." 

***

Noot took Mondero to the station master, and advised him that the prisoner was a pilot of starships, who had some recent misfortunes. . . 

"A pilot, eh? We can use a pilot, if you can fly our small starships."

"Let's see 'em."


Odiwa took Mondero deep into the underground storage. "There they are."

Mondero stared, interest showing in his eyes. "Wonderful. The small scale blackbirds of Stealth. Haven't seen those for years."

To be continued. . . 

***


WEP - Write, Edit, Publish, a flash challenge

It's time for another WEP challenge - with the support team of Nilanjana Bose and Olga Godim adding their imaginings and creativity. Thanks to Denise and Yolanda for being the hosts! 

The challenge:

Create an artistic entry using the given prompt: a poem, a flash fiction piece of 1000 words or less, a non-fiction piece detailing your personal experience or someone else's experience, write a script, draw your dreams, or post a photograph or a photo essay. The genre and the artistic choice are yours!

Be sure to check all the other entrants on the WEP participation list! 

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Would you want to live in an abandoned space station? What would cause you to have no choice but to live in this structure?


Please leave a comment to let me know you were here. I'll respond. Thanks for stopping by.

***

Asteroidian Dreams of Utopia - WEP Holidays 2016

Utopia? I wouldn't call it that. It's Someplace Else I dream about, A real planet. . .

Image 1, see credits 

Noises drifted into the corridor from one of the lab units. Loud voices. Aperture doors cycled open and closed with only a slight click.  Then, silence. A woman stepped into the corridor, paused for a moment as the door cycled close. She turned and headed for the marked surface exit. Two seconds later, a head popped out of the door which just cycled open again and a young man said, "Citizen Leta, excuse me Citizen Leta Buk!"

Leta tried to relax her shoulders and hands. Tension did that to her. Made her want to bite something hard. 

Keep walking. Ignore. Keep walking. Focus. That man can't tell me what I can do. My job is to study the surface, and I'm prepared this time in case the lurker I saw before is dangerous, human or something unknown. As prepared as a human can be. 

After a few minutes, the head belonging to the young man in an officer's uniform disappeared and the door cycled shut again. His name tag identified him as Citizen Dako Jon, Special Assignment Officer.

***

Image 2, see credits

Leta put on the custom surface suit she had bought for exploring the outer layer of the asteroid. One of the tailors in the colony made these for special request at a likewise special price. It was puncture resistant, had a longer airtime for its oxygen breathing tanks which were made with a lightweight composite, and included a built in deflector vest. No one asked the tailor how he managed to acquire the materials; they didn't want to know.

After cycling the airlock compartment closed, she left the re-purposed starship which served as the main administration centre. It was built into the highest level of the colony, stripped from the mother ship. Once she was out, where  no one could live without life support, away from the claustrophobic areas and recycled air, she felt more calm.  She checked the spot where the heat signature had appeared on her last outing. It was innocuous. There was nothing to indicate anything had been there.

She pulled out her constellation map copies to compare those to the multitudes of stars above and around her.  She wanted to map the constellations she could observe from this colony, and soon was absorbed in her study. With a special tool designed for her spacesuit -a little extra installed by the maker of the suit-she started to plot her own star chart. The flexible fingers and small manipulations she could do made the cost of the suit reasonable.

It's an investment. And it hides a very capable weapon capable of stunning or killing. I hope I can find out what was shadowing me last time.

Image 3, see Credits

The feeling of being watched suddenly came back and she turned quickly. There! She saw a flash of what looked to be a humanoid figure dart in the shadows in a different location than before. She activated the suit's weapon array and the transmitter inside her helmet. 

"Attention, intruder. This is Citizen Leta Buk. Show yourself. Identify your name and your purpose. My weapon is armed and ready."

"I acknowledge, Citizen Buk. I mean no harm. I have been shadowing you to see why you come up here, and I wanted to learn who you were. Not many ever come to the outside, not unless they have to. My name is Killian Max, I'm a historian."

He's no assassin. . .or I'd be dead. She disarmed her weapons. "Accepted. I don't remember seeing you before, did you transfer in from another part of the colony?"

"Yes, I'm from Level 8, transferred in a few weeks ago, but I'm a nobody really," he said. "But one day, that could change. I invent things, I create something new out of a bit of this and that. Like this suit I'm wearing."

"Your surface suit? You made it yourself? I couldn't get a heat signature from your suit the first time you stalked me."

"I don't know why I'm telling you that I make things, but it's my secret. I could get into more trouble if word gets out. And, I wasn't stalking. I was observing."

"It's illegal to create new technology? That doesn't make sense. But don't worry, I  can keep a secret."

"The council members fear that it was technology that derailed a lot of old civilizations, fear that it will subvert the human goals. Fear of the new. It's a way of controlling growth and it allows the council to monitor what it calls rogue citizens. . ."

"You don't seem like a crazy inventor. . ."

"I consider myself like those greats from Antiquity - Tesla, Edison, and others. I honour their memory from the age when inventions were heralded, not hidden. I like to dream about other places, planets rather than chunks of rock. Places where inventions are welcome. I want to see things. I don't want to stay here all my life."

"So, you're a dreamer like me."

"If that means dreaming of other places and better times, yes. In the meantime, I work on my inventions, test them covertly, and study our ancestors. Could I ask you something about your work?"

"Sure. I'm a mapper for the surface of this colony. I have begun to map the constellations in our system for my own interest."

"Is that what you doing with those sheets of film I saw you drawing on?"

"Yes. Mapping. This suit has been adapted for my work. It's what I do. Making star charts is like mapping the universe, or at least a part of it."

"I'll remember that if I run across any ancient maps in my work. There is so much of our history that has been suppressed here in the colony. For instance, have you ever heard of Christmas? It's an ancient Terran holiday that seems to have been lost from our collective memory."

"I've never heard anything about it. Why was it a holiday?"

"It celebrated peace, and was entangled with several religious traditions that seem like legends to us. People would sing, give gifts and try to help those less fortunate. There was a feast using some type of avian species which was unique to Terra."

"Interesting. So many things died or were lost when Old Sol, the Terran sun went nova. Will we ever find the remnants of the human race, scattered as it is? That would be a good reason to bring back some of the old ways. I'm ready."

"I've been ready for some time. I'm glad we have met. It gives me hope that there's more out there. . ."

"Yes, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Killian."

"That sounds like something I read somewhere before. Well met, Leta."

And so, another link in the chain is formed. A chain which will eventually pull these two scientists in training away from their birthplace and toward other colonies and planets. As the circle turns and twists, what was old becomes new again.

***

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND BEST WISHES FOR 2017!

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WEP, aka Write, Edit, and Publish

Thanks to Yolanda and Denise, co-hosts of Write, Edit, Publish for once again stirring our minds to create! We all have dreams, the fleeting kind that can end up being nightmares or the ones about what we would like to achieve, but for the Utopian Dreams Challenge, we want to know about that secret desire, the something you spend time daydreaming about, talking about and maybe even secretly planning for. It can be anything that will make your life seem perfect, or utopian. However, reality is rarely ideal. Let's talk about as we end the year 2016, and look forward to perhaps getting a little closer to that dream.

The challenge: Create an interpretation of your own choosing: a poem, a flash fiction piece, a non-fiction piece detailing an experience, or write a script, draw your dream, or find photographs to show us the essence of the dream and enhance the story. It's up to you. Have fun and don't forget to visit all the participants on the list who are sharing their ideas.

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Can you imagine how it might be to live underground on an asteroid? Do you think traditions can fade away as centuries pass? 

Thanks for visiting, and please leave a comment to let me know you were here. I'll respond. I also want to thank everyone who has been a regular visitor here or just occasionally drops by. I will try to get back into my own posting routine after the holidays.

***

References:

NOTE: this story continues as Part 2 of Asteroid Stories

Previous WEP story: If I Wish Upon a Constellation, Part I

http://dghudson-rainwriting.blogspot.ca/2016/10/if-i-wish-upon-constellation-wep.html


https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.ca/ Write Edit Publish

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Images:
http://hubblesite.org/gallery/album/the_universe

1st Image via Hubble
Credit: NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA)-ESA/Hubble Collaboration

2nd Image via Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/en/space-asteroids-planets-cosmos-1422642/

3rd image via Hubble
Credit: NASA, ESA, CXC and the University of Potsdam, JPL-Caltech, and STScI

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Far Future Tales on Tamut - Sci-Fi WEP Challenge

Happy Year's End - Spacer Celebration!!
Morgan's Early Life on Tamut

Image from an observatory

STAR DATE: 13001, 13th month Galactic Calendar

It's Spacer Celebration time! That's the way most Tamutians celebrate the end of the year - what the ancient ones called Christmas and the New Year. Now it's one year end holiday.

There's no jolly fat old man that distributes toys, candy and other frivolous stuff. Most kids don't even know the old stories like I do. Mother gave me three books from the Terran archives, before she was declared missing:  'The Mouse before Christmas', 'A Grinch saves the Day', and 'Stockings on the Mantel'.

I hate this time of year.  I never get to go to the Tamutian End of the Year celebration. Uncle doesn't approve of it.  Just one - why can't I go to just one? 

Our Tamutian forefathers wanted us to appreciate our own beginnings and revere our Spacer ancestors, the old time space captains who came on the original colony ship to settle here. Spacer Joe looked like that old comic book hero Flash Gordon. A kid can relate to a spacer who came from an old world to discover a new planet. With laser guns, and a fast starship, Spacer Joe beats a flying chariot pulled by reindeer, whatever they were. If the colonists brought reindeer with them on the mother ship, they must have eaten them or maybe they just died. Tamut didn't have any, we knew that for sure.

***

Dak, my best friend, called me and asked if I could go with him to the celebration this year. He told me about the laser light show, and the rockets exploding for the new year. There were copies of the antique spacer ships on display and real-life space pilots to talk to.

"It's one of the biggest shows for kids. We would have a great time and my dad said you could stay over one night, if you were allowed to.  Please, please try. Maybe this time he'll soften up."

"I'll ask, but Uncle never lets me do anything." My stomach churned. 

"But, this is our history. He's got to let you go. He doesn't have to do anything, my parents will take care of us."

I knocked on the library door; I knew Uncle liked to read in the evenings. I want to go to that Spacer Celebration so bad I could taste it.

It didn't matter. Uncle's way was the only way. He wouldn't listen to me

"Uncle said no, Dak. His exact words were, 'Morgan, you have better things to do than waste time watching rockets explode'."

Yeah, like what? Study?"

My friend went with another school mate of ours.

Just you wait, Uncle, I'll find some way to get off this planet.  Just like my parents did. . .one day it will happen. When the stars call, you have to listen. 

***

Ten years later, I did just that. 

HAPPY YEAR'S END!

***
WC = 494

Observatory Images

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DECEMBER 16-19: WEP Challenge

1000 words or less in your choice of Flash Fiction, Poetry, Non-Fiction, Playscripts, Artwork, and Photography

For this challenge, we want you to give your favorite celebration a Science Fiction twist. This month's judge is Alex J. Cavanaugh, author of the Cassa Series and 'Dragon of the Stars'.

Take us out of this world with a story told in whatever mode you prefer: fiction or non-fiction, poems, photography, artwork.  For links to more stories and details about the WEP challenges, see the WEP Page: Write, Edit, Publish Thanks to the host bloggers: Denise Covey and Yolanda Renee.

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Can you imagine what a few centuries could change in our society? Do you like what you envision? Would we still have stress? What do you think?


Please leave a comment to let me know you were here and I'll respond! Thanks for dropping by! And don't forget to check the WEP Challenge page for other stories.

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Alone with the Unknown - A WEP Flash

Youthful Frights vs Adult Fears - Halloween Nights when the veil thins between this world and that other one. . .

Don't listen, don't look, don't turn around. . .

Paris - An Old Cemetery, by DG Hudson

A child sleepwalks, unbeknownst to the rest of the family. Out the door, and into a nearby cemetery, stepping gingerly, not feeling the cold night air.  She halts amid the dark stone tombs of yesteryear, eye closed and hands sensing her path and her active mind guiding her tiny feet.

A cat growls and hisses in the shadows of a nearby tomb and the child awakens. There is fear in her eyes yet she knows not what caused her to awaken. She looks around, feeling an aura of restlessness in the spirits biding in the place. All the things around her are dark and foreboding. . .she screams, breaking the stillness of the night. . .

Back in her own home, a few houses away, a mother hears the scream through her sleep and awakens panicked.  She knows her child walks at night. What calls her? She is up in a minute knowing where to find the little one. The child is always drawn to the cemetery, as if for a purpose. A shiver runs down the mother's spine.

***

I woke up sweating, looking about me and trying to determine where I was. In the dark, my sleepy eyes could still make out some things by the light of the moon shining outside, its light beaming in the window. I tried to calm myself, this was familiar, not like the dream from which I had woken. A dream where I was alone in the dark, in the middle of a cemetery hundreds of years old, with no idea why I was there nor how I had gotten there. I drifted back into sleep and the dream continued. . .

I didn't recognize the place at all, and there was a feeling of very old things lurking. Why was I standing still, why did I feel like something was getting closer, something I didn't want to see. Why wasn't I running or at least moving away? 

I turned, hearing something behind me. There was nothing there. I looked for my house, but I couldn't see anything, the fog has rolled in, damp, cloying and thick enough to smell. An earthy smell, like earth freshly turned.  Or, musty like a grave. What am I doing here? How did I get here?

***

The doorbell rang, and I nearly fell off the couch. I had fallen asleep again, Was that really a bell I heard or did I dream that too?  There was no way I was answering a door after midnight.. .especially on Samhain, All Hallows Eve, when the spirits can cross over.  No way.

***
WEP

Minor feedback acceptable Or MPA
WC=449


That's my entry for this October Challenge of WEP, Write...Edit...Publish, hosted by Denise and Yolanda at the WEP site. This is Flash Fiction using your creative turn of mind in the form of prose, poetry, non-fiction, art, or photos. 

Check the WEP site for details

The prompt: Tell us about the horror that stalked you in the night. Write about it for this challenge and turn those childhood fears into a scare-fest like no other. . .but then leave your night light on when you go to bed.  It's supposed to prevent the spirits coming in under cover of darkness, or so my friend's Italian grandmother told her.  . .

***

Do you dislike being in dark dank places, especially cemeteries? Do you feel an affinity to the spirit world, walking dead or otherwise?

Please leave a comment to let me know you stopped by and I'll respond.  Don't forget to check the list for DL (Direct Link) at the WEP site to read more Halloween tales. It's your treat for Samhain.

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