Fiction

All too human

Matt1 Comment

CHAPTER ONE

A prison stood tall and grey above all the scattered little houses and storage units that permeated the old industrial complex. Barbed wire fences glimmered with morning dew.

Sparks shuffled along the pavement carrying a blue and white striped bag.

‘It’s the bag man!’ The boy cried out to his friends.

They looked at him with laughter in their eyes.

The eldest of them, who stood in the shadows of the street, lurched forwards and grabbed the bag from his hand.

‘I wonder what it is!’ He said theatrically.

He threw the bag like a ball at one of the other boys, and the boy caught it, and threw it toward another boy.

Sparks stood in the middle, stretching his arms, trying to grab it back every time they threw it. It was awkward, an embarrassment, given his superior strength.

In their excitement, one of the five boys lost his grip on the bag while trying to catch it; the bag flailed off onto the road.

‘No!’ Sparks cried out in dread reaching down to the ground where his lover’s head had dropped with a plop out from the boy’s hands.

‘What the fuck?’ The boy rang out, stepping back.

The other boys laughed.

‘Are you seeing this?’ The elder boy grinned.

Sparks lunged towards his lover’s head, picking it up, ‘No! no! Sark !’ He examined the head for any signs of damage. A slight dint on his chin and dust from the road picked up on the silicone skin but nothing more.

He scrunched up the bag from the road and placed his lovers head back within it.

‘Aww,’ one of the younger boys said mockingly, ‘It’s a puff robot!’

The boys snickered.

‘Are you a puffter robot?’ The eldest shouted, looking towards his younger companions for affirmation.

‘Puffter robot!’ They all chanted, ‘puffter robot!’

He hurriedly walked up through the ginnel, still hearing their mockery behind him.

—

The solar panel shimmered at the side of the house, and bric-a-brac lay in piles. The sun shone white and bright through the clouds.

‘I’m sorry,’ Sparks uttered, smooching Sark ‘s dirty head on the pedestal.

‘Those boys are evil!’ He spat.

Wires hung out from the bottom of Sark ‘s neck.

Sparks turned to his workbench, ‘See, I’m going to fix you!’ He said desperately, picking up a soldering iron and taking a silver battery shaped like a heart with his other hand.

‘If I just connect these up,’ He turned back to Sark .

He took the soldering iron and connected the wires to their relevant connection points; his big hands worked awkwardly yet delicately.

He pulled the hair from Sark ‘s scalp and slid off the silicone skin, which took some effort to get off in one piece.

The silver dome bore scratches and a slight dent. The dent had become shiny with worry from Spark’s fingers.

He turned back to the workbench and picked up his electric screwdriver. Unscrewing the braincase felt like such an intimate moment, even though, logically, he knew android doctors had done this many times.

He kissed the silver dome rhythmically in between each screw he loosened.

When the braincase was off, Sark ‘s circuitry was revealed, with all its many wires going down into the little tank which held a cloned human brain.

There was a switch within all the wires and circuitry; flipping the switch to on, the heart started to beat and vibrate against the pedestal.

He bowed over the pedestal and looked for a reaction in Sark ‘s eyes. There was blinking, and then nothing.

Spark’s fingers traced down his cheek, ‘Sark ?’ he whispered gently in his ear, ‘Sark ? Are you there?’

Sparks stepped around and crouched in front of Sark ‘s face, ‘Please,’ He said.

But Sparks had no tears to cry.

‘Please,’ He sobbed dryly, resting his head against Sark ‘s, ‘I need you, Sark !’ He cried despairingly.

Sark ‘s heart vibrated against his chest, and he rested his head there, stripped bare in grief; he slowly went into sleep mode.

*

Though droids of his model were not supposed to have the ability to dream, dream he did.

Sparks and Sark had the secret droid bar to themselves; the room was awash in a warm red glow.

‘Do you have much sensation in your skin?’ Sark had asked him as they lay together on an L-shaped sofa.

‘I have sensors at various places underneath the skin to know when I’m in water or if something has caught on my skin and torn it.’ As Sparks spoke he felt something light on his hand, ‘What was that?’ He had asked, looking down.

Sark smiled at him sheepishly.

‘What was it?’

Sark  showed him a feather in his hand, ‘can you feel this?’ He brushed the feather on Sparks’s cheek.

‘Yes, only just.’

‘Is it a good feeling?’ Sark  talked with a whisper that held an urgency within his breath.

‘it doesn’t feel bad,’ Sparks replied.

‘I..’ Sark  stopped stroking him with the feather, ‘Does that mean good, or just neutral?’

‘I don’t know.’ Sparks replied, ‘What does it feel like to you?’ Sparks asked curiously.

‘Want to try it on me?’ Sark beamed with a smirk.

‘Why do I get the feeling this… this is…’ Sparks started.

Sark stopped him short and put his lips on his.

They kissed like they had that first time out in the woods, their mouth valves flapping.

While they were kissing, Sark slid the feather into Sparks’s hand. It was only a small feather with blue and black stripes and a slight white tinge. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the feather and stopped kissing abruptly.

‘Try it on me,’ Sark whispered with that urgency Sparks had previously noted. He couldn’t understand how such a tiny feather could call for such urgency! Sparks brushed the feather against Sark ‘s fingers, then down the palm of his hand.

‘It tickles,’ Sark spoke softly.

‘I suppose that was the word I was looking for.’ Sparks replied in his monotone voice.

Sparks was searching through his mind for what to do in these situations but was coming up blank though he had started to get the gist; this was something sexual; there was something he could feel though he didn’t have the words for it.

The more he thought about Sark ‘s hand or moving the feather over his body, the more the sensations were emboldened. Finally, Sark  took the feather from him and moved it over Sparks’s ear like a silent whisper, sending a tingle that transferred itself down his face. 

The doorknob rattled and moved; they both jerked up straight on the couch, turning to the TV. Sark ‘s face flushed red.

The rattling continued, then stopped abruptly.

‘What was that about?’ Sparks asked, walking towards the door. He opened it ajar and peered through.

A bulky security droid was standing outside in the vestibule.

‘Everything okay, Chief?’ Sparks asked.

Chief looked at him blankly, ‘Oh,’ He said, ‘Didn’t know anyone was still in here.’

‘Are you coming in?’

‘Nah,’ Chief replied, eyeing Sparks suspiciously.

‘I’m off to charge,’ Cheif said, pointing toward the door to the other room.

When Sparks closed the door behind him, Sark  burst out laughing, the redness leaving his face.

Sparks lunged toward him and kissed his lips, Sark ‘s urgency having transferred to Sparks. He was no longer in thinking mode; his logic circuits went off as if a switch had been flicked, and he was undressing Sark  desperately.

It wasn’t so much the feelings in his body from touch that mattered; the intentions seemed to matter most to his android brain.

Sark ‘s face started to flush again from excitement rather than embarrassment. Sark  grabbed at Sparks’s clothes to pull them off.

Their hands explored each others android bodes, and then Sark  stopped short at Sparks’s belly button.

‘Do you need any oil?’

Sparks shook his head.

‘I think you need some oil.’ Sark  told him, stepping behind the bar and getting a little bottle.

Then Sparks understood.

Sark  squirted the oil into Sparks’s belly button while his free hand roamed between his legs.

Sparks had no sensors between his legs, but sensors elsewhere in his body lit up, generating feelings.

There were moments when it seemed a bit much, moments when his logic circuits turned back on. But he went with it, hoping the excitement would turn off his logic circuits again.

Another letter from Mammaroon

Matt1 Comment

Dear friends

It’s funny what you remember when you miss something. See, it occurred to me recently that there was a great forgetting down on earth. We’d pour our filth out into the world, and then when we glimpsed the ripple effect in our environment, like stones in water, we’d remember for a second, a moment, maybe a little longer if we could hold onto the abstract long enough.
We’d sit, mourn, sigh, and shake our heads, ‘What about the whales?!’ We’d ask, ‘What about the curlew?’
Then, in the next breath, we’d turn and pour more filth, always re-forgetting.

I only remembered our great forgetting because I’m here in this fish tank on another planet. How far removed I have had to be to realise is…nothing but shameful to be honest with you, dear friends.

I miss the way Herons flew like a rope with wings and how the squirrels pissed me off by chewing my bird feeders.
The early morning dawn chorus would irritate me after a sleepless night.

In other news, though, I married Spoon, not because of love but boredom.

Sitting here in this glass tank, I know what a goldfish felt like; if his memory is bad, surely it’s from the tediousness that rots one’s brain from such an oppressive home rather than from biology. I remember having a goldfish that knew when it would get food, and I am much the same when the mammarrians throw in some food.

Occasionally, when the boobacious little spidery mammarrians come and stare at me through the glass, with even smaller ones standing beside them I take off my t-shirt, and I take a run-up to the glass and the little ones skitter and hide behind the slightly bigger ones. It passes the time and amuses me no end!

Yours faithfully
Holden Mcgroin.

Another damn letter from from Mammaroon

Matt1 Comment

Dear Friends,

I am writing to you against my better judgment!

The family life didn’t last long.

It lasted as long as a dream, though I am almost sure it was real!

‘What shall we name her?’ Alice had asked me.
I was lying in the bed behind a haze of smoke from a cigarette that hung between my fingers. I wasn’t sure how it got there, I didn’t remember lighting it, and I didn’t remember drawing smoke from it either.
‘Spoon.’ I replied lazily.
Alice sprung from the bed like a cat, ‘Get Spoon out of your mouth!’
I looked at her through the smoke, ‘What’d you mean?’
‘I swear you love him more than me!’ She paced up and down beside the bed, ‘Maybe I should get them to bring him here, so he can keep you happy.’ She leant on the bed, reached out and lifted my chin with two fingers to make me look her in the eyes. ‘We are not calling our daughter after your lover!’
‘Yea, you’re right,’ I had said, ‘Especially if we did decide to use my surname.’
Alice bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes glazed over, ‘Is this a joke to you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I gestured round the room with my hand, ‘What the fuck any of this is!’

In some respects, being in a house that looked like one I could have back home on Earth was a comfort. But Alice being there and our…Daughter… I still can’t fathom that one…It made it all disconcerting.

I kept having nightmares where I’d walk through the curtains and take the baby out of the cot and peel the skin off her face; underneath were just wires and red lights.
But then, despite all signs of her being an android, blood would start to spill, and my hands would be covered in her blood.
Alice would walk in, and at the sight of me holding our daughter, bleeding in my arms, she’d let out a shriek so piercing that it could break glass.
‘What have you done?’ She’d scream at me, ‘What the hell have you done!’
And I would stand there and cry, looking down at my dead baby human/android in my hands.

It seems the Mammarians wanted Alice and I to play happy families, smaller Mammarians, like the little boobacious spiders, would come along holding a big device between their two front legs. Then, after a white flash, they’d be gone again. I can only presume that they were taking photographs.
But apparently, I needed to play families better for them.
Yet I was up at night doing the feeding occasionally, allowing Alice to rest. I burped her and changed her nappy. All the usual things a dad does. I pulled funny faces at her, and she laughed, and I laughed back.
Occasionally Alice and I tried to fornicate, but it was very hit-and-miss whether I could perform.
I must confess to you the times I did perform, I was picturing Spoon or some other man I once knew on Earth.

How much I miss the flesh of another human. I miss the birds and the bees, the squirrels chattering in the trees.
I miss the trees too! The velvety moss you could run your hands through, like running your hand through a man’s hairy chest.
I know we burdened the world; a lot had been lost before I was even born. But what was left counted to something, and I can only dream that maybe humans were letting things grow back since my abduction.

After what felt like eons I was picked up in another bubble cart and taken back to the fish tank.

I am still determining what else to add as of right now. I am still processing everything, so I guess that will be all for today.

Yours faithfully,
Holden Mcgroin.

Part 6: There goes the Wub

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Part 5: There goes the Wub

‘Do ya really ‘ave a photo?’ Jackson asked Merrick.

Merrick stood over the dead man; the man’s clothes were spattered in blood and brains. Merrick held up a hand and tilted his head, listening carefully. ‘Can ya ‘ear that?’

He could hear hushed voices along with the distant sound of hooves.

Merrick started to run from the house back the way they had come, he could hear Jackson breathing heavily behind him.

‘get it’

Merrick heard a voice whisper amongst the shiver of a bush.

‘It’s like a unicorn among ‘orses!’ Another voice whispered in amazement.

‘Show yasel” Merrick barked.

Jackson hunched over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath as he watched on.

There was a stark silence; a leaf brushed past in the breeze. A man emerged from the bushes, his hands raised above his head. ‘That unicorn among ‘orses,’ Merrick jutted his chin, ‘Owns me!’

Another man came out gingerly from the bushes, ‘We didn’t mean anythin’ by it.’

‘Yea, ya meant somethin’ by it.’ Merricks’s eyes were ablaze.

‘Please don’t shoot.’ The man protested shakily. ‘We thought the ‘orse was on ‘is own.’ He looked down at his feet, ‘Now we know e’s with you, we’ll leave it. It’s all fine ‘ere.’

Merrick lowered his gun, ‘Get outta my sight!’ He barked.

The sound of Tucker’s trot was receding, so Merrick started after the sound frustratedly, Jackson lagging behind.

They chased Tucker’s tail for the whole hour’s journey back into the little street with the pub. The men who were once under Jamesons’s charge were till there; only now they stood in their soiled trousers, disgruntled.

But it was Jackson, Merrick or Tucker they were paying any attention to when they arrived breathless behind the men. Merrick and Jackson followed their gaze up into the sky. Something was falling in a blaze down to earth.

‘What the fuck?’ Jackson stood arms folded over his chest protectively.

‘They’re back.’ Merrick gathered aloud.

Jackson waved a hand dismissively, ‘It’ll be a meteorite.’

‘Meybe.’ Jackson replied, ‘Is that any better?’

Jackson gave him a side glance.

‘Cuz if it’s that big coming down, we don’t stan’ a chance.’

The meteorite theory was soon put to bed, though, as the thing falling with a black continued on its trajectory over the cities; above it, the sky darkened. The city and the exclusion zone were cast in shadow.

‘Yup,’ Merrick nodded, ‘They’re back.’

‘No kiddin” Jackson whispered in wonder.

And so it was; the city imminently glowed under a green light while the exclusion zone remained in the shadows.

Apart from the lack of stars the exclusion zone remained the same, the beings above showing now interest in their little pocket of the earth.

‘Well, Fuck!’ One of Jamesons men hollared, ‘Looks like we’re all gonna die tonight.’ He turned to see Merrick and Jackson behind him.

Tucker neighed, which caused everyone to turn their heads to the stable next to Jackson’s shack.

Merrick laughed, ”e knows where t’ run to!’

‘Scott.’ The man tapped his mate on the shoulder, ‘Scott, the bastards!’ He jutted his chin towards Merrick and Jackson.

‘You ‘ave some brass balls comin’ back around ‘ere.’ The man said.’

Scott scoffed, ‘Or a death wish!’ He said, reaching for his gun.

Merrick whipped his gun out before he’d had the chance. ‘Careful there, son, someone might get shot.’

‘Yea, you!’ Scott pulled the gun on them.

‘Is this a game of who shoots first?’ Merrick asked, jutting his chin.

‘It’s lookin’ that way.’

Merrick turned to Jackson and shrugged, turned back to Scott and shot him in the wrist. Scott dropped the gun screeching in pain.

‘See, I don’t wanna kill anyone else tonight,’ Merrick kept the gun trained on Scott.

‘What the fuck!’ Scott’s friend hissed, ‘Ya coulda kilt ‘im!’ The man was still a bit drunk on his feet.

‘It ent toy guns we’re playin’ wit.’ Merrick spat, ‘But if ya twist me arm enough, I will kill ‘im.’ Merrick shrugged, swept the gun over Scott’s pal, ‘I’ll kill ya both if ya twist my arm enough.’

Scott looked up at his friend pleadingly. His hand wrapped around his wrist, blood gushing between his fingers.

‘We all know ya didn’t even like Jameson anyways, no one did.’ Merrick smirked, ‘So why don’t you scoot off now.’ With the gun, Merrick pointed at the cities, ‘We’re the least of your worries now.’

Scott’s eyes were wet with tears; he turned to look at the cities, emanating its new green glare.

The exclusion zone stood in dead silence.

Drops of blood ran down the cobbled road in the direction Scott and his boy went. People were stepping out of the bar and looking toward the cities in silent wonder.

With a screech and the sound of flabby flesh bubbling over gravel and cobbles, a stampede of Wub’s ran down and into the direction of the city.

‘Welp,’ Merrick yawned and stretched his arms, the gun still in his hand, ‘There goes the Wub.’ With his other hand he reached out and clasped Jackson’s hand in his.

The end.

Authors note: I have tried to make this a longer story, but everything I tried eventually led me to writer’s block. I hope to continue writing this story in one way or another and seeing how I go.

Part 5: There goes the Wub

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Part 4: There goes the Wub

The rows of trees came to a halt, and up the narrow dusty path, Tucker slowed his pace. The little house came into view, and already Merrick could spot the couple shuffling out of their house. They were still some distance away, but he wanted to consider how to deal with the situation, keeping Tucker at a slow trot.

‘Is this the place?’ Jackson asked.

‘Yup, this is the house alright.’

Spying the couple that stood at the front of the house, Jackson said, ‘She looks like she means business!’ But he was laughing about it into Merrick’s ear.

As they neared the house and the vast farmland stood in a sepia silence the man stepped off the front porch, eyes ablaze. ‘You ‘ave come back this way when we told you not to!’ The man bellowed, his nostrils flared.

‘Me situation has forced me back this way, I’m afraid.’ Merrick dismounted.

The woman stood behind the man, holding the shot gun with Merrick in her sights. Merrick looked around and spat onto the pathway, spying the wubs that were hung up on an old tattered washing line slap-bang in the middle of the field at the front of the house.

‘What’s with them?’ Merrick jutted his chin toward the dead wubs.

The man turned his whole body to look back at the wubs then turned again to look at Merrick and Jackson. ‘Ya never tried Wub?’ The man asked them, looking at them through an angry glaze.

‘No,’ Jackson replied, stepping up next to Merrick. ‘What would a fella do that fer? I’d assume they’d be poison t’ us.’

‘They’re creatures from the divine.’ The woman said through gritted teeth, still looking down the barrel of the gun.

‘So why’d ya kill ‘em?’ Merrick asked.

‘The divine brought us the wub so that we could eat.’ The man told them.

‘What ‘bout the fishes in the sea and the rivers?’ Jackson asked.

The man laughed, ‘Ya seen any fish ‘ere?’  

‘We were outta fish long ‘fore those wubs came.’ Merrick butted in.

‘I ‘eard word it was us ‘umans that did ‘em in.’ Jackson said.

‘T’was when ‘uman society lost faith!’ The man said.

Merrick shook his head, ‘Nah. I ‘eard it was a capitalist thing, overfishin’ ‘t’ waters fer profit.’ Merrick scanned the line of wubs hanging from the line, ‘Anyway, ‘ow about ya let us try some fried wub then? And we can devise a plan fer ‘ow my friend and I can pass, eh?’

The man thought it over, tapping at his bottom lip. The woman held steady with the gun, her finger ready on the trigger. ‘Down!’ The man barked.

Merrick looked at Jackson, Jackson looked back at him; they both shrugged.

The woman lowered the gun reluctantly, growling as she did.

Merrick leaned against Tucker’s head and whispered reassuringly in his ear, ‘Ya a good boy Tuck. I’ll work somethin’ out.’ He ran a hand down his long nose, ‘You stay ‘ere boy, yea?’ He leaned closer to Tucker’s ear and whispered more quietly, ‘Stay ‘ere till I say.’ Tucker moved his head up and down, nuzzling Merrick’s neck. ‘Ah know Tuck! Ah know!’ He laughed at the sensation as Tuckers tongue lolled out and licked his face. ‘I’ll sort it out, Tuck, I’ll sort it out.’ Tucker snorted happily.

The husband and wife grimaced at him talking to the horse with the devil eye like that, their lips curling with disgust.

                                                            #

Merrick and Jackson followed the couple into the little white house and into their kitchen and then into the dining room.  The man sliced up  a piece of wub and slapped it onto two plates, sliding them across to them on the table.

‘Go on,’ His fists thumped at the table.

Merrick looked up at him, nodded, cut himself a sliver and put it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed slowly, looking across at Jackson. ‘Tastes like fish.’ He smiled in surprise, ‘Teach a man t’ catch wub, and he’ll eat fer life!’ Merrick grinned.

Now the man and the woman looked at Jackson expectantly. Jackson took a piece reluctantly into his mouth, ‘Are ya sure this is safe? I mean, we’re eatin’ aliens!’

‘It’s fine!’ The woman barked.

‘Go on!’ The man spat impatiently.

Jackson looked across the table at Merrick, and Merrick tipped his head forward.

‘Alreet.’ Jackson said with a sigh, ‘’ere goes,’ he bit down on the wub meat and swallowed, then took another bite, ‘You’re right, it does taste like fish!’

The man and woman smiled at them both, showing gummy grins. Then they put their hands together and closed their eyes, saying some silent prayer.

They sat down and took some wub meat for themselves, scoffing it off their plates in haste.

‘Now,’ the man started to speak, his mouth full, ‘That there ‘orse,’ he pointed with his fork, a bit of wub meat falling off and back onto his plate, ‘’e is of this earth and not a part of the divine.’

‘What are ya on about?’ Merrick asked.

‘That ‘orse is like the cidy peope. God wanted us separated from those so-called pure bloods. We are not the freaks in God’s eyes! We are ‘is chosen ones!’

‘That’s a new one on me!’ Jackson baulked.

Merrick spun his fork on the plate in front of him, ‘I think man is of the earth too.’ He dropped the fork with a clatter and sat back in his chair, arms folded, ‘What’d ya say t’ that?’

‘I’d say ya ent got Jesus in ya ‘eart! And fer that you shall surely burn in hell!’ The woman replied.

The man closed his eyes, ‘Amen, Ize. Amen!’

Merrick leaned forward and looked the man square in the eyes, ‘Well, that ‘orse right there, is a descendent of a ‘orse from one of the spaceships.’

The man dabbed his mouth with an old stained cloth, ‘I’d say ah don’t believe ya.’

‘Well, me father told me there were two ‘orses on the spaceship, those two ‘orses they left behind.’

The man took another bite of wub.

The woman slammed her knife and fork on the plate with a clatter, ‘’es lyin’ ‘e is!’

The man waved a hand at her; she lowered her eyes and looked down at her plate.

‘’is father might be the liar, Ize.’ He nodded toward her, and she nodded back, picking her knife and fork back up.

‘Ya ‘eard me, didn’t ya?’ He asked Merrick.

‘Yea. Ya sayin’ me father is a liar. But see, I ‘ave proof.’

‘And what would this proof be?’

‘I’ve got a photograph of the ‘orses comin’ walking off t’ spaceship!’

A chair scraped against the floor as the man pushed it out below. He stood at the tables end, arm stretched, palm up expectant.

‘Well,’ Merrick looked from him to the woman and back again, taking another bite of wub, ‘I don’t ‘ave it on me!’

The man’s elbow cracked as he bent his arm back and slapped his hands together. Jackson, Merrick and the woman all jumped at the sound.

‘Liar!’ He shouted, spittle spraying from his mouth. His face was red with rage, ‘I let you liars into my ‘ouse, and fed you my food!’ He spun on his heels, picked up a gun that was leaning against the window at the end of the table.

‘I ‘ought to shoot ya both right ‘ere!’ He bellowed, pointing the gun at Merrick and Jackson, ‘But that would be too easy!’ He hissed, turning and marched out of the house.

Merrick made a blind rush to the window, his gun out of his holster and pulled the trigger. The glass smashed, and shards of glass sprayed everywhere. The first bullet had missed the man, as he marched toward a nervous Tucker.

‘Run!’ Merrick hollered at the top of his lungs.

The man glanced over his shoulder at Merrick before turning back and raising the gun, Tucker in his sights.

Merrick pulled the trigger again.

The man groaned loudly.

Tucker was running in the direction he’d come from, neighing loudly.

The man was down, holding his leg.

When he noticed Tucker getting away, he heaved himself up.

‘I don’t wanna kill ya,’ Merrick spat.

The man batted Merrick away and spun round; lifting his gun, ‘I’ll kill you…’

Merrick shot him in the bloody mess of his trousers. The man groaned and fell to the ground again, the gun landing away from him. He held his leg, grunting and breathing heavily. Merrick kicked the gun away.

There was a bang from behind; he spun on his heels and the woman had a shotgun pointed at him. He watched as her hands loosened their grip, and the gun fell to the ground before her body slumped down, blood running from her head.

Jackson stood over her, pistol in his hand, blood spattered on his face.

‘Jesus, Jack!’

‘She were about to shoot ya!’

‘Fuck!’ Merrick spat, ‘Fuck!’ He turned back to the man, and the man clawed over to his shotgun, one hand still holding onto his leg. He looked over at his dead wife on the grass.

‘Ya shot ‘er!’ Then his face contorted, ‘You shot my baby!’

Merrick and Jackson watched as he lifted the gun, both of them ready with their guns to shoot if they had to.

It looked as if the man would point the gun towards them. But then he turned it on himself, ‘I’ll meet ya in the heavens, Ize!’ Then a sudden look of peace pulled his face back together, and smiling, he pulled the trigger.

Part 4: There goes the Wub

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Part 3: There goes the Wub

Jameson’s men were getting louder and more belligerent as they drank day away into night.

‘Where do they think their main man got t’?’

Merrick and Jackson sat under the window with their backs against the wall. Merrick peered out the window every now and then.

‘They ent thinkin’ too much.’ Merrick replied, this time looking through the splintered door frame.

‘So let me get this straight, ya man,’ Jackson pointed behind the wall at Jameson’s body, ‘got your boyfrien’ kilt ‘cause ‘e were gay and nothin’ else?’

Merrick frowned, ‘’I dunno that ‘e ordered it. But one of ‘is men killed ‘im ‘cause ‘e were gay.’ Merrick swallowed, ‘What don’t ya believe ‘bout that?’

Jackson shrugged.

The light outside was fading past and the shack was fading into dark shadows. Merrick turned to Jackson, ‘In they cidy, they accept gay people now. But ‘ere in bum fuck Coventry, they send gays out to Coventry, Coventry!’

Jackson looked puzzled.

‘We’re all freaks ‘ere in one way or t’other. But if you’re a man who likes dick, they’ll fuck ya up like you’re the freak of fuckin’ freaks!’ Merrick remarked.  

There was a silence between them as the shack grew darker, ‘I were beaten up as a teenager ‘cause of me chest.’ Jackson broke the silence.

The sound of the men blabbering came in from outside.

‘Ah knew of a lad who ‘ad been thrown out of t’ cidy. His freakishness wasn’t readily obvious. Not till ‘e got older and ‘e realised for ‘imsel’ a few things. So anyway, ‘e got sent ‘ere to live with the misfits.’ Merrick looked out the window to check on the men before continuing, ‘People kept askin’ ‘im, ‘Why ‘ave ya come ‘ere? Why? You could’ve hid in plain sight and carried on livin’ t’ cidy.’’ Merrick shook his head, ‘He replied that ‘e couldn’t live there ‘cause ‘e felt too closed in, unable to be ‘imself. ‘e said ‘e’d been t’ one of those suicide booths they ‘ave in the cidies. When they brought ‘is clone out for a second round of life, ‘e realised the suicide booth was pointless. So ‘e told t’ truth  and thee sent ‘im t’ only place he could get a gun.’

‘T’the land of nowhere fer a gun.’ Jackson remarked.

‘Yea,’ Merrick continued, ‘So the idea was ‘e would come ‘ere and blow his soul out so ‘e couldn’t be brought back.’

‘So what med ‘im a freak? That ‘e wanted t’ die?’

‘In the cidy’s eyes?’ Merrick asked, ‘Well, ‘e ‘ad a vagina.’

‘So ‘e were a she?’

‘I guess. Meybe.’ Merrick thought on this a moment, ‘’Ah think it was a brain thing.’ Merrick shrugged, ‘Anyway, the point is ‘e came ‘ere to get a gun and blow ‘is soul out. But then when ‘e got ‘ere, ‘e chickened out. ‘E couldn’t find it in ‘imsel’ to place a gun to ‘is neck and do it. So ‘e went around askin’ people to shoot ‘im dead, dead. ‘Will you do it?’ ‘e said, handing ‘is gun t’ people. ‘Please?’ He’d plead with ‘em. But none of ‘em would.’

Merrick continued, ‘then one day he asked a woman and her ‘usband, ‘Will you do it?’ he handed ‘em the gun, tilting ‘is head to the side and pointin’ to ‘is neck. ‘Just shoot here.’ He told them. And the woman looked at the man and ‘er ‘usband looked at him in a sort of stand off. Then the woman says, ‘Ah’ll do it if ya tell me why. And if I deem ya reason acceptable, ah’ll shoot’’

Jackson whistled, ‘Who made ‘er judge and jury?’

Merrick ignored him and continued, ‘Anyway so the lad turns to the woman and asks, ‘’ow do you feel about gays?’ The woman goes, ‘I woudn’t shoot ya for it. But I’d set ya reet!’’ So the lad goes, ‘What about trannies?’’ The woman claps ‘er ‘ands t’gether and says, ‘Ya jus’ another on of us!’ And she hugs ‘im. She tells ‘im, ‘Welcome to nowhere land.’ But ‘er ‘usband is frowning and grimacing somethin’ fierce. And then there is a flash and a bang, and the woman’s face is splattered in blood. ‘er mouth gaped open, ‘er body shakin’ as the lad’s body drops to the floor. She turns to ‘er ‘usband still shakin’ ‘Why did ya do that?’ ‘er ‘usband points across the road to a man who is standing there, gun still hot in ‘is hand. ‘What did ya jus’ do!’ The woman screamed at him with fury and anguish on ‘er face. ‘Can’t ‘ave one of them freaks ‘ere!’ The man bawled at her.’

Jackson shook his head, ‘’ow do you know of this? I don’t even believe it,’ Jackson shook his head again, ‘No, I don’t damn well believe ya, fella.’

‘I can tell ya it did ‘cause I lived in a little wooden shack next to that ‘usband and wife.’

‘I don’t get ya point though; why are ya tellin’ me this?’

‘T’ tell ya, even freaks can find a scapegoat too freakish for their sensibilities. It don’t madder if ya live in the cidy or the exclusion zone!’

‘I don’t see why that person couldn’t jus’ live in cidy as a woman.’

‘There is a long ‘istory frem my understandin’. ‘fore invasion, there was a point way back when it looked like acceptance was growing. But then progress went backwards. Anyway, I think don’t think they wanted t’ live as a woman. That was the point.’

‘We don’t choose shit like that though.’ Jackson said.

Merrick shrugged, ‘Who say’s we choose anythin?’

Merrick looked out through the window, and it was darker now, but from the light reflecting from the bar he could just make out Jameson’s men. They were in a heap on the ground.

‘Sayin’ ya a lad when ya a woman is a choice.’ Jackson said.

‘I dunno ‘bout that.’ Merrick replied, ‘Ah sure never chosen ‘ow I felt ‘bout nothin’’ He crept to the door, ‘Wait ‘ere.’ He told Jackson. Creeping up to the heaps on the ground, he saw it was the two men, collapsed in drunken stupors, and one of them was lying in a puddle of his own piss. He scampered back to the shack, ‘Time fer us t’ leave.’

Jackson looked up at him in a daze, ‘What?’

‘Time fer us t’ leave ‘fore they wake up!’

Jackson heaved himself back up and staggered toward the door.

                                                        #

‘I was thinkin’’ Jackson started, his breath on Merrick’s neck as he rode behind him on Tucker.

‘Yea?’

‘Do you think we’re freaks, Mer?’

Merrick’s body stiffened, ‘Don’t call me that.’

Jackson laughed.

‘Ah mean it Jack. Don’t call me that.’

‘It’s jus’ shortenin’ ya name!’ Jackson protested, ‘Like ‘ow you call me Jack!’

‘Do ya not like Jack?’

‘Nah, I’m fine wit’ it.’

‘Well, there ya go, you’re fine wit’ it. But I’m not.’

‘Alright.’

Silence descended between them, the sound of Tuckers hooves ticking down the time as they trotted in the direction of the lady with the gun. Lines of trees on either side of them sped by.

‘Still, what do ya think?’ Jackson asked, breaking the silence.

‘Do ah really think we’re freaks?’ Merrick scratched at his stubble, ‘In terms of the cidy vs us? Yea, we’re freaks.’

‘Ya don’t mind bein’ called a freak?’

‘Not by our lot.’ Merrick replied.

‘Even when our lot call gays freaks?’

‘No, cause they mean it the same way the cidy means it about all of us.’

‘yea?’

‘They spit it out with hate.’ Merrick replied.

Part two: There goes the Wub

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Part one: There goes the Wub

It was pitch black as they rolled over to sleep; Merrick listened to the howl of the wind against the door. The distant hooting of owls sharing the same soundscape.

‘Say, can I…Can I…I ne’er felt gills on a human ‘fore.’

Merrick rolled in his sleeping back to face the dark lump that was Jackson, ‘Is that what ya got me in ‘ere fer? T’ cop a feel?’

Jackson switched on the torch between them, ‘Fuck no! I ent like that! I ent no pervert.’

‘The lady doth protest too much.’ Merrick smirked.

Jackson baulked and slid up in his sleeping bag, ‘I shoulda ne’er asked. I apologise, sir.’

Merrick shook his head, ‘It’s fine, Jackson! Come on then,’ Merrick leaned over the torch light, casting a huge shadow on the walls, ‘Have a feel.’

Jackson ran his tongue over his teeth, ‘Ya sure?’

‘Yea. Curious folk are better than pre-judgement, fella.’

Jackson reached over hesitatingly, running a finger over the slits in his gills, ‘Wow.’

He spat, ‘Wow!’ He shook his head, ‘Do they, do they work, like?’

‘Nah. non-functioning.’

The wind filled in a gap of silence between them, along with the ‘too-wit’ of a female owl very close by.

‘What’d ya think is wrong wit’ bein’ like that?’ Merrick finally asked.

Jackson was still looking wide-eyed in amazement, his finger tracing down the slits on Merrick’s neck, ‘What?’ He asked with a frown.

Merrick leaned further in, ‘Ya know, like…’ Merrick kissed Jackson on the lips gently, ‘like that.’

‘N- No…I ent.’ Jackson stuttered. ‘And you shouldn’t be goin’ roun’ doin’ that t’ men!

Ya’ll get yasle’ kilt’

‘Why? Are you gonna kill me?’

Jackson swallowed audibly, ‘No.’

‘Well, that’s good then.’ Merrick smiled across at him.

They lay on their backs in their sleeping bags, back into the blackness of the night; the wind continued to howl and bang at the door menacingly.

Jackson swallowed away something that haunted his mind before sighing as though he had resigned himself to some disagreeable fate.

Merrick kept his eyes closed, listening to the rustling coming from beside him, then the purr of a zip coming undone, the padding of hands and knees crawling against the grain of the wooden floor.

Then he felt it, the breeze of exposed skin. He opened his right eye and was met with Jackson looking over him.

‘What’s this?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jackson confessed as he ran his hand down from Merricks gills to his chest and ran his fingers through his chest hair.

Merrick strained his neck and kissed Jackson, pulling him in closer.

‘I didn’t think you…’ Merrick started.

‘I don’t know,’ Jackson whispered, ‘so jus’…’

‘Shut up.’ Merrick finished the thought.

The wind had since calmed down, and the floorboards creaked underneath their weight.

‘I always wonder wit’ men like yasel” Jackson started, his head resting against Merrick’s chest, ‘Are ya jus’ a man lookin’ fer anythin’ thee can get?’

‘What do ya mean?’ Merrick frowned.

‘If thee ent no woman around, ya jus’ take a fella like me to replace ‘er, like.’

‘Men like me?’ Merrick looked down at Jackson’s face, ‘more than one?’ He grinned, ‘But ya ent that way!’ He laughed.

‘Shut up!’ Jackson retorted, ‘Jus’ answer the damn question!’

‘What makes ya think you’re a good replacement fer a woman?’ Merrick asked, amused.

Jackson slid out from the sleeping bag and crept toward his own.

‘Anyway, ya think I couldn’t get me a woman if I wanted one?’

‘No, no! I ent sayin’ any such thing!’

Outside, time ticked away with the sound of rain dripping from the shack’s roof, cigarette embers marking down the minutes between Merrick’s fingers.

Just as Jackson had started to drift off to sleep, Merrick piped up, ‘What wus that ’bout ya goin’ t’ cidy?’

‘I ent goin’.’ Jackson replied sleepily.

‘Ya won the loddery?’

Jackson shifted in his sleeping bag, ‘Ah might ‘ave.’ But even if I ‘ave, I ent goin.” Jackson sat up, his back against the wall, ‘I wouldn’t go there ‘less I wus goin’ down t’ shoot ’em all down.’

‘Ya don’t wanna do that.’ Merrick told him

‘Ya bet I do!’ Jackson replied, ‘Look ‘ow they ‘ave us live! Those purebloods got it comin”

‘First someone teks ya eye, then ya tek theirs, then what are ya left with?’ Merrick asks the darkness.

Jackson frowned, ‘Say, what?’

‘Ya left blind! Thee take ya eye, you take theirs, they take your other eye, you take their other eye. Then ya fight blind and ya die.’ Merrick puffed up a pillow and clasped a hand behind his head.

‘I’d fight those fuckers blind if I ‘ad t’.’ Jackson replied.

‘I’m tellin’ ya,’ Merrick looked up at the ceiling, listening to the rain drip, ‘it never works out ser well.’

”ow’d you know?’

‘Never mind wut I might’ve done.’

Jackson squinted his eyes to see the shape of the man beside him on the floor in the dark. ”Ave ya kilt a man?’

Merrick got out of his sleeping bag, ”ere let me show ya somethin,’ He grabbed Jackson’s hand and pulled him up off the floor, ‘Come on.’

‘Wait, wait,’ Jackson loosened his hand from Merrick’s grip and put on a pair of boxers before following him outside.

‘Ya see down there all thum cidy lights?’ Merrick pointed down the cobbled street at the distant lights.

‘Yea.’

Merrick looked up at the sky, and Jackson followed his gaze, ‘Ya think thee can see those stars down there?’

Stars twinkled through transparent wispy clouds, the scars of scattered rain showers moving through the sky to reveal the brilliant void of space.

Jackson shrugged.

Merrick shook his head, ‘Thee cant. They’ve blown themselves up wit’ so much artificial light down there they forgodden real stars exist.’

A Wub hurried past, making a bubbling sound that they made when running.

‘Ent it interestin’ wut thee left behind?’ Jackson asked prompted by the sound.

‘Ya not one of those that think thee left ’em behind on purpose, are ya?’

Jackson shrugged again, ‘Mebe.’

‘Nah,’ Merrick said, ‘I think it’s like ‘ow we ‘umans introduce new species to new lands from ships and t’ like accidentally.’

‘Except the Wubs are alien.’ Jackson said.

‘So are t’other species when they arrive on new land. Anyway,’ Merrick took a piss where he stood, ‘They ent alien anymore.’

”Ow’d ya figure?’ Jackson asked, looking at the butt of Merrick as he relieved himself and he grinned, ‘ent ya a bit cold?’

They lay back down in their sleeping bags, hands clasped behind their heads.

‘So,’ Jackson started, ”Ow’d ya figure?’

‘Figure what?’

‘The alien thing, the Wubs.’

‘Thee preddy much naturalised now ent thee?’ Merrick said, ‘Like, back in’t day when Romans introduced non-native trees and ‘t’ like. Anyway,’

Jackson heard the floorboard creaking and then felt a weight on him, ‘I figure ya shut up wit’ the questions now,’ Merrick told him as his hands roamed between Jackson’s legs.

Part one: There goes the Wub

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A wub scurried past; Tucker whinnied uneasily on his feet and waved his head back and forth.

‘Easy, easy!’ Merrick whispered.

The wub scurried into the surrounding foliage and out of sight.

‘Easy there, Tuck! Easy!’ Merrick continued to whisper gently into Tucker’s ear; his ear twitched at the sound, his hooves firmly setting themselves on the track.

Merrick and Tucker sped back into a canter until they reached the maw of the edge land, back into the human wilderness.

A line of dilapidated shacks stood crooked on either side of the dust road. They stopped before a couple standing outside one such shack, the woman looking wide-eyed at Tucker.

‘’e’s got thum devil eyes, ‘e as, Colt.’ She turned to her husband, ‘I ent ‘angin’ ‘bout fer no devil eyed ‘orse!’

Colt rolled his eyes, ‘The ‘orse is a beaut! Ne’er sen one like it!’

Merrick dismounted and straightened the collar on his coat, up and around his neck, before holding out a hand for the woman.

She looked around shiftily before taking his hand gingerly.

‘Why,’ he lifted her hand to his lips, ‘what a ‘andsome ‘usband yer got there.’

The woman’s hand fell limp from Merricks.

A little child peered shyly around the shack door; Merrick smiled and winked. The girl withdrew back behind the creaking wooden door.

The woman’s mouth gaped open, ‘yer what? Ya got eyes fer mah man?’

Colt’s moustache rose with a snigger, ‘’e sure ‘avin’ yer on!’

‘I ent no kidder when it comes to ‘ansome men like yasel’’

Colt’s moustache flickered instantly into a frown, ‘yer what?’  I aint that way inclined,’ He spat, ‘Now if you dunt mind!’ He turned, shooing him away with a wave of the hand, ‘Leave us outta ya perversions!’ He put an arm around his wife and ushered her back into their ruined shack.

‘Well, Tucker, looks like it’s jus’ you an’ I,’ He winked at the sparkling blue eye before climbing back into the saddle, sending dust up in their wake.

Distant street lights from the cities zoomedpast, like stars sparkling through the gaps in the trees.

They came upon a street that looked as though it had just been sketched into existence. Wooden buildings stood in the shadows of the night.

He looked over his shoulder at the distant city lights, then up at the sky, ‘At least we got real stars,’ He patted Tucker, his fingers trailing through his white mane.

Tucker’s hooves clopped loudly on the cobbled stones of the next street. Merrick hitched him up outside the only building with lights on inside.

‘Now, ya know the drill, Tuck! I gonna leave ya fer a liddle while, but ah’ll be reet on in there,’ he pointed at the door to the bar.

Tucker nodded his head down, ‘That’s a good boy!’ Merrick said, stroking down Tucker’s long face. ‘Yea, good boy!’ Tuckers ears twitched at Merrick’s voice soothingly.

Merrick stepped into the shabbily built pub, only two other patrons were inside.

The head of the man behind the bar jerked up to the sound of the doors closing behind him, ‘Nearly dropped off there!’ He laughed a toothless laugh.

‘Whiskey on the rocks.’ Merrick slid the coins across the bar.

‘Ya know, not many left now,’ The barman told him as he slid a glass of whiskey across the bar.

‘Yea? Thats what they want.’ Merrick sipped the whiskey down.

‘Truth is, it’s us that got it fer’t better!’

‘I been tinkin’ ‘bout the same.’ Merrick nodded to the barman.

‘Yea. Men like you come in all’t time an’ say that. Then you win the loddery one day and…’ The man raised his brows, ‘Suddenly, they up in’t cidies, thinkin’ they cheatin’ death.’ 

‘Well, I wouldn’t worry ‘bout that. Ah don’t play the damn loddery!’ Merrick  replied.

The barman laughed, his tongue sucked against his gums, ‘The best way, the best way!’ He patted Merrick on the shoulder.

Another man entered the bar, and the barman laughed at the arrival, ‘The busiest night of me life, eh?’ He asked in jest. ‘I gonna be rollin’ in it!,’ He said, ‘Hey,’ He nudged at Merrick with his elbow, ‘I could be goin’t’ the cidies yet! Buy mesel’ a few clones, make out like I’m cheatin’ death!’

Merrick nodded and sipped the rest of his whiskey.

The man who had just arrived approached the bar and sat beside him.

‘Rum ‘n’ Coke, please.’ The man looked at Merrick , ‘That your ‘orse back there?’ He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder.

Merrick  turned to look over his shoulder, ‘It might be, ‘pends whose askin’?’

The man held his palms up, ‘Ah mean no trouble, Sir. Jus’ that is one special ‘orse ya got yasel’ there. Ah wouldn’t ‘ave ‘sen ‘im if it weren’t fer ‘is white mane!’

‘Yea, I won the ‘orse loddery, ya could say.’

The man slapped his thighs, ‘Ya don’t say, man!’ He whistled.

‘I thought you went out t’ the cidy?’ The barman jutted his chin as he asked.

‘Nah, I ent goin’ that hell ‘ole without a gun!’ He smiled.

The man looked over his shoulder, out the window, ‘That ‘orse sure is mighty fine!’ He whistled, ‘’E even got them blue eyes!’

‘Jus’ the one.’ Merrick told him.

‘Eh?’

‘Jus’ the one blue eye.’

‘Well, ones enough for me!’ The man grinned, ‘Ones enough fer me t’ fall right on over there in love!’

‘it’s the blue eyes that get ya, is it?’ Merrick asked him.

The man laughed and drank up his rum in one swift gulp. ‘Say,’ He started, ‘Ya ent plannin’ on ‘avin’ ‘im tied up out there all night, are ya?’

Merrick  held up his whiskey glass, ‘Don’t know ‘bout that, ‘pends ‘ow long this place teks to throw me out!’

‘Nah,’ The man shook his head, ‘We can’t be ‘avin’ that! That ‘orse is too damn fine a specimen to be out in’t cold of the night, like! And I bet ya there’ll be men out there eager af’er ‘im!’

‘Well, I got nothin’ else I could do wit’ ‘im, so, let them try.’

‘Nah! I won’t ‘ave it!’ He slid off the stool, ‘Say, why don’t ya put ‘im in mah ol’ stable fer’t night. And say ya could crash at mine, sleep on’t floor.’ He held up his hands, ‘No luxuries at mine, mind,’ He looked Merrick up and down, ‘But the floor’ll do fer a man lik yasel’ I reckon!’

Merrick  mulled this over for a moment, ‘Well, first, at least give me a name.’

‘Jackson Whitlock.’ Jackson nodded across to Merrick, ‘Yasel’?

Merrick  smiled wistfully, ‘Should ya be invitin’ a man ‘fore ya even know ‘is name?’

Jackson shrugged, ‘Well, tell us yer name and we won’t be strangers forever.’

‘A man can be called many names, don’t mean ya know ‘im.’

‘Reet, wise arse.’

‘It’s Merrick , though.’ Merrick  held out a hand, ‘Nice to meet ya, Jackson.’

Jackson shook his hand firmly.

Merrick  slid off the barstool, ‘Shame ah got brown eyes, ent it eh?’ Merrick walked out of the bar.

Jackson frowned and followed him outside. ‘So we gettin’ this fine boy to the stables, or what?’

They walked Tucker across the road and into the stable, ‘Ow comes ya got an empty stable?’ Merrick  looked around at the bales of hay inside the hastily built place, ‘If it can be called a stable.’

‘I used’t’ ‘ave a horse.’

‘Used’t’?’

‘’E up and died on me dint ‘e?’

Merrick looked at Tucker and stroked his long face, a feeling of dread at the thought of losing him swelling his heart. ‘Yea, ya ‘ate to lose ‘em’

‘Ent that right!’

Once they’d got Tucker in and comfortable, Merrick followed Jackson into the wooden shack beside it.

‘Luckily for you,’ Jackson said as he rummaged at the back of a room behind a bit of unfinished wall that jutted out near the toilet, ‘I got two sleepin’ bags!’ Jackson threw a green sleepin’ bag at Merrick and took out a blue one for himself.

‘Say, ya think they’ll be back?’ Jackson asked casually.

They sat back to back while they each undressed.

‘I think they came wit’ indifference and left wit’ indifference.’ Merrick replied, taking his socks off.

Merrick stood from his sleeping bag and piled his clothes neatly on a wooden rocking chair to the left of the toilet.

‘Wow,’ Jackson looked Merrick’s naked body up and down, ‘Ya ent shy at all, Sir!’ His eyes drifted down to Merrick’s feet, ‘Let’s see what ya got,’ he said, ‘Webbed feet! Me too!’

Merrick got into the green sleeping bag beside Jackson on the floor, a torch light lit up between them.

Jackson gasped now he had a better view of Merrick in the light, ‘Gills!’ He pointed to his neck, ‘I didn’t think anyone ‘ad ‘em! Thought it were a myth!’

‘Well, ‘ere I am, your mythical bein’ in’t flesh!’

In the blaze thirst can’t be quenched

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It was a hollow cry, for no one could ease the pain. She howled into the night, and he bellowed from the other side.
The crescent of the moon was spangled through the bare branches of the trees; winter had come too soon, that was what Blaze believed, but Willow said this was the way of things now.
Life was becoming death in an endless winter.
Blaze had asked Willow if she couldn’t try putting a more optimistic spin on things, but Willow said she lived truthfully; an optimistic spin would be a lie.

‘Are we to blame?’ Blaze had asked Willow.
Willow slumped down against the rotting trunk of a willow tree, ‘No.’ Willow said.
And Blaze could only believe her because she wouldn’t sugarcoat the truth.
‘Is it anyone’s fault?’
Willow looked around at the cracked earth beneath her feet; the sun was ablaze in the sky, but winter’s soul had shrouded the earth with only shadows of ghosts. And so no matter how much that sun provided its heat, the mass extinction had done its thing. And yes, one day, maybe, life would find its way again, but for now, all that was left was the debris of homosapiens.
Plastic yoghurt pots rolled across the barren land like tumbleweeds, plastic wrapped tightly around the bones of some long-lost animal suffocated from the very plastic that now waved in the wind.

‘I have found you,’ Blaze had told Willow as he held her against the stump of the tree, ‘and so you have found me.’
Willow had smiled sadly up into his broken stare. The lights of his eyes had long gone out, as had her own.
‘Let’s let ourselves go,’ Willow said softly to him, ‘together.’
‘But I thirst for life.’ Blaze had protested.
‘We will thirst forever.’ Willow’s neck creaked as she lowered her eyes.
Blaze held her tighter in his arms, ‘The sun gives us life; we are living.’
‘This is not living, Blaze.’
Willow loosened herself from his arms, ‘Take out my solar panel.’ Her neck creaked as she craned it to look back at Blaze.
‘I…I can’t.’ Blaze said.
‘You can.’
Blaze began to whir, his head shook, ‘No! No! No! No!’ His left eye drooped, and a shard of loose glass dropped onto the cracked earth.

Since that day, a gulf had separated them. Blaze wandered about the cracked, parched plains marching northward on the same journey the trees had tried to make. The scorched bark of trees flaked and clung to their skeletal remains.
Blaze ripped a flake of bark and crushed it in his hands; a poem sought itself out in the through the mess of his electronic neurosis:

I am a refugee marching north on the wind
hoping my seed will disperse
far enough to traverse
these boundaries that will surely kill me
my roots are not fed
and there is no life left
but the wound that has bled
into the rivers
tricking down into the earth.

I could have shaded you from the sun
and thus the wind and the cold
but you let the blood run
never mind the lives slain
all for your fear of death.

Does irony feed you and quench your thirst?
When will you march with the skeletal remains of us?

And it was then that he heard the great despair taking wing into the air. The hollow cry of a humanoid who had torn her solar panel, the dying embers opened her lips, and the cry rang out through the plains of extinction.
Blaze bellowed back, and the moon’s crescent looked on, indifferent.

A letter from Mammaroon: Daughter

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Dear Friends,

How are things on earth?

The other day the Mammamarians put me into a bubble-shaped cart that hung from a steel wire.
And with great speed it travelled along the rope till it came to a halt that felt to me just in the nick of time, as just inches away from where it stopped was a perilously tall building that looked to be made of graphite.
And once I overcame my shock from being in new surroundings and the movement and near crash of my cart, I saw a vast network of tall buildings like the one I had stopped by before me.
There were no windows or doors on these buildings, none that a man’s eye could see anyhow.
But at once, a hole opened up in front of me, and my bubble cart moved slowly through the hole.
The hole instantly closed behind me, and I was inside the graphite tower!
And many small Mammamarians ran up and down little ladders and over many, many landings like boobacious spiders!
My ball cart moved with a slow precision as another hole opened up. I was back outside, on the other side of the building.
And the speed returned with force forcing my face up against the glass; my nose squashed against it.
The cart came to a sudden halt just as it did the first time, and after a moment or two of waiting, a hole opened up, and the cart slowly entered.
And once I entered the building, the cart started free-falling!
And down I went, my heart beating violently against my chest and my eyes no doubt bulging from my head in terror!
My hands against the glass, I screamed, my fingers trailing through the fog of my breath on the window.
And then there was a wailing sound like a crying baby.
The more I screamed, the louder the crying became, as if competing with me.
The ball cart luckily came to a halt when a giant metal hand grabbed hold and connected us back up to another steel wire.
A hole opened up in the wall before me, and the bubble cart entered a room that looked like any other room you might see in a house back home!
That was when I saw the source of the wailing: a baby in a cot, arms above their head and legs up in the air.
Next to the cot was a space currently behind drawn curtains.
Would you like to hazard a guess as to who was behind the curtains?
Well, if it wasn’t Alice!
‘My god!’ I recall myself saying, ‘Alice! Where have you been…’ But as the words escaped my mouth, it dawned on me, ‘The baby is yours?’ hoping my shock didn’t afflict my face.
Alice smiled that wistful smile, the same smile I saw her lips bear last time, ‘It is our baby,’ She said, holding out her hand. ‘Come on,’ She said.
I grabbed her hand, and she spun me back to face the baby in the cot.
‘I thought you were…’ I looked down at the baby’s feet which were up in the air, ‘I thought you were an android.’ I gulped.
‘I am.’ Alice replied.
‘But,’ I pointed at the baby, ‘How?’
‘I have an artificial womb.’

Can you believe that? An artificial womb in an android?
I never expected to have a child, what with mainly fucking men and rarely being able to orgasm if I slept with a woman.
Not to mention that back on earth, back on that sweet blue, green home, I was told by a doctor that my swimmers weren’t very…well up for swimming, quite frankly!

I looked at Alice, stunned! ‘How…But I..’
‘We had to help your little guys out a bit.’ She smiled.
‘Yea?’ I said, picturing sperm with armbands on like a cartoon.
‘Don’t worry about it. The fact is, now you have a little daughter!’
Well, what indeed was I supposed to say to that?
‘I know you’re in shock.’
‘Shock? That’s….That’s an understatement. I’m horrified.’
‘You don’t like your daughter?’ Alice asked, a look of disdain on her android face.
I looked down at the baby in the cot, but my brain could not compute that this little ball of flesh and bone was my child, my daughter.
‘I don’t know that I believe any of this is real,’ I replied finally.
‘Pick her up, hold her.’ Alice said in an enchanting voice.
I swallowed my scepticism, which went down my throat like a frog.
I picked up the little bundle of flesh and bone, and the baby spread her fingers out on her little hands, looked up at me and with salty tears making tracks down her face from the crying, she smiled up at me.
I put her hand in mine, and it felt real.
But so did Alice. So did Spoon.
‘What are we going to call her?’ Alice asked.
‘We?’ I looked at her, the babies hand still in mine.
‘Yes, we.’ Alice tilted her head and looked at me like I was an alien. Under the circumstances, I couldn’t help but laugh a little at that.
‘Well, she should take your surname.’
Alice smiled, ‘And her first name?’
‘I don’t know!’ I baulked and put the baby back in the cot.
‘Aww look, she’s going to sleep now she’s seen her daddy!’ Then Alice crept as quietly as possible towards me and put a hand on the small of my back, ‘Shall we go to bed now and try to get some sleep?’ She said, with a yawn, pushing on my pack to usher me behind the curtains.

So that’s all the latest news for you! I’m out of the fish tank, and now it seems like playing ‘happy families’ with Alice somewhere on this boobacious planet!

Yours faithfully,
Holden Mcgroin.