http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9zkpJ1AzU4
What is Strangetastic? Find out July 12th.
29 June 2009
26 June 2009
"Defeated"
DEFEATED
By Curtis C. Chen
Clay felt the motion before he heard the sound. The towncar swerved and screeched, its tires skidding off the highway. Clay's head bumped the inside of his window when the car stopped spinning.
"Out!" Selby shouted. "Out of the vehicle! Now!"
The two marshals swung their doors open and jumped out. Clay looked through the windshield and saw a swirling vortex of light sweeping toward them, spitting red lightning.
Selby raised his wand and began casting a warding charm. Mercer yanked open Clay's door. She had one hand on his collar and the other hand on the door when the spell hit them.
Clay, Mercer, and the car materialized in the middle of a flat stone floor inscribed with symbols, surrounded by a perfect circle of gold. A tall, thin man stood outside the circle.
Mercer drew her wand and sent a bolt of energy flying toward the thin man. The missile collided with an invisible dome--an artifact of the containment circle--and shattered.
"Well," the thin man said, "that was easier than I thought."
Mercer pulled out her badge and said, "You just abducted a Federal Marshal, asshole."
"You're just collateral damage, my dear. My target was the invader."
Mercer did her best to keep a poker face. Clay slumped in his seat.
"Oh, yes," the thin man said, addressing Clay, "I can see through the glamours. Straight into your soul--all eight million of them."
Mercer stepped between Clay and the thin man. "If you can read his enchantments, you know his form is impenetrable. Let us go, right now, and we can forget this ever happened."
"Forget?"
The thin man raised a hand. A flash of light streaked from his tattooed palm into Mercer's face. She said something unprintable and stumbled backwards, hitting the car. Clay stood up and grabbed her before she fell down.
"That is what I saw the day it attacked us," the thin man said. "Tell me how I can forget that."
Clay lowered Mercer to the ground. He saw flashes of light under her closed eyelids, no doubt replaying scenes from his own rampage through Manhattan.
"I'll come with you," Clay said, standing up. "Just let her go."
"No!" Mercer said. She groped around blindly. Clay moved away from the car.
"Whatever you're going to do to me, you don't want a witness."
"Of course not," the thin man said. "But I do need a vessel."
Clay froze. "What?"
"My wife is one of the souls you imprisoned four years ago, invader. I can free her now, but she will need a body." The thin man smiled. "As they say: two birds with one stone."
Clay's fist smashed against the circle barrier.
"Good," the thin man said. "You've been human long enough to appreciate what it is you're going to lose."
The thin man's palm flashed again, and Clay fell to the ground, unconscious.
"You don't know what you're doing!" Mercer shouted. "You unseal him, and the world ends! Do you hear me?"
The thin man ignored her and walked away.
By Curtis C. Chen
Clay felt the motion before he heard the sound. The towncar swerved and screeched, its tires skidding off the highway. Clay's head bumped the inside of his window when the car stopped spinning.
"Out!" Selby shouted. "Out of the vehicle! Now!"
The two marshals swung their doors open and jumped out. Clay looked through the windshield and saw a swirling vortex of light sweeping toward them, spitting red lightning.
Selby raised his wand and began casting a warding charm. Mercer yanked open Clay's door. She had one hand on his collar and the other hand on the door when the spell hit them.
***
Clay, Mercer, and the car materialized in the middle of a flat stone floor inscribed with symbols, surrounded by a perfect circle of gold. A tall, thin man stood outside the circle.
Mercer drew her wand and sent a bolt of energy flying toward the thin man. The missile collided with an invisible dome--an artifact of the containment circle--and shattered.
"Well," the thin man said, "that was easier than I thought."
Mercer pulled out her badge and said, "You just abducted a Federal Marshal, asshole."
"You're just collateral damage, my dear. My target was the invader."
Mercer did her best to keep a poker face. Clay slumped in his seat.
"Oh, yes," the thin man said, addressing Clay, "I can see through the glamours. Straight into your soul--all eight million of them."
Mercer stepped between Clay and the thin man. "If you can read his enchantments, you know his form is impenetrable. Let us go, right now, and we can forget this ever happened."
"Forget?"
The thin man raised a hand. A flash of light streaked from his tattooed palm into Mercer's face. She said something unprintable and stumbled backwards, hitting the car. Clay stood up and grabbed her before she fell down.
"That is what I saw the day it attacked us," the thin man said. "Tell me how I can forget that."
Clay lowered Mercer to the ground. He saw flashes of light under her closed eyelids, no doubt replaying scenes from his own rampage through Manhattan.
"I'll come with you," Clay said, standing up. "Just let her go."
"No!" Mercer said. She groped around blindly. Clay moved away from the car.
"Whatever you're going to do to me, you don't want a witness."
"Of course not," the thin man said. "But I do need a vessel."
Clay froze. "What?"
"My wife is one of the souls you imprisoned four years ago, invader. I can free her now, but she will need a body." The thin man smiled. "As they say: two birds with one stone."
Clay's fist smashed against the circle barrier.
"Good," the thin man said. "You've been human long enough to appreciate what it is you're going to lose."
The thin man's palm flashed again, and Clay fell to the ground, unconscious.
"You don't know what you're doing!" Mercer shouted. "You unseal him, and the world ends! Do you hear me?"
The thin man ignored her and walked away.
Audio: "Defeated"
I considered titling this story "Defeat of Clay," but decided that was a bit too on the nose. Also, a pun doesn't really set the right mood for this tragic tale.
Music: Bass, Drone, and Percussion Loop stems from "Skullcrusher Mountain" by Jonathan Coulton, licensed under Creative Commons.
You Have to Imagine Rod Serling Saying This
Here's the original opening I wrote for this week's story:
It is, as they say, a bit of throat-clearing.
More trivia: I changed the name three times. It started out as "Leroy Jenkins" (just a placeholder, obviously), then "Lincoln Nevins" (too random), and finally "Clay" (to maximize the evocative imagery. And shit).
Lincoln Nevins was thirty-nine years old when he was born. But Lincoln was not "born" in the traditional sense. It would be more accurate to say that he was "created" or "constructed."
Because Lincoln Nevins is not a person. Lincoln Nevins is a human-shaped prison, built to contain and to punish an entity who was not welcome in our world and who did not succeed in his attempt to conquer us.
Ask any child on the street about Lincoln Nevins these days, and they'll laugh. He's no longer a threat. No one fears him. And that makes him all the more dangerous.
It is, as they say, a bit of throat-clearing.
More trivia: I changed the name three times. It started out as "Leroy Jenkins" (just a placeholder, obviously), then "Lincoln Nevins" (too random), and finally "Clay" (to maximize the evocative imagery. And shit).
19 June 2009
"Kangaroo's First Day with the Eye"
KANGAROO'S FIRST DAY WITH THE EYE
By Curtis C. Chen
It was almost noon before Kangaroo came back to Jessica's office to complain.
"There's a lot of pixelation down the left side," he said. "Is that normal?"
Jessica tapped her scanpad on his shoulder and looked over the data feed from his body sensors.
"Reads normal," she said. "Describe the pixelation."
"It's like a white dotted line. And it flickers." He raised his left hand and rubbed his eye with one knuckle.
"Please tell me you haven't been doing that all morning," Jessica said.
"What?" Kangaroo said, still rubbing. "It's itchy."
She grabbed his wrist and pulled it down. "It takes a full day for the display film to completely bond to your cornea. If you rub it off, we'll have to start all over."
"Can you do anything about the itching?" he asked. "Give me some eyedrops or something?"
Jessica sighed and put away the scanpad to prevent herself from smacking it against Kangaroo's head. "All the drugs you need are already being manufactured in your bloodstream by the nanobots we injected last week. Remember them?"
Kangaroo folded his arms and pouted. Jessica noticed something.
"Ow!" he said as she yanked his right arm straight. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and there was a small lump under the skin on the inside of his elbow—like a cyst, except it was a bluish color and located right above the vein.
"How long has this been here?" she asked.
"What? I don't know. What is that?"
Jessica dragged Kangaroo to the other side of the room and pushed him down into the exam chair. "Sit." She pointed to an eye chart on the wall. "Read the third line down, please."
While Kangaroo squinted at the chart, Jessica pulled on sterile gloves and selected a scalpel. She had removed the mass from his arm before he even noticed the pain.
"Apply pressure," Jessica said, handing him a gauze pad.
She ignored his screeching and took a thin slice off the blue lump. Under the microscope, she saw the spherical cross-sections of countless dead nanobots, shimmering with the telltale proteins that collected their corpses into canary clusters.
She whirled to face Kangaroo. "Have you had anything to eat or drink since the procedure this morning?"
He looked up from the wet gauze on his arm. "Just some coffee."
"Where?"
"Paul's office."
Jessica cursed and pressed a finger to her jaw, activating her communicator. "Security, this is Surge."
Her implant buzzed. "Surgery, Security, go ahead."
"I need an immediate local division lockdown. Suspected intruder with chemical or biological weapons."
After a brief pause, the Security voice said, "Please confirm, ma'am. You want us to lock down the offices of Director, Intelligence, Non-Territorial?"
"Yes!" Jessica hated repeating herself. "This is Commander Jessica Chu, day code gamma five one two. Seal this section now!"
"Authorization confirmed," Security said.
Jessica heard the rumbling of airtight bulkheads in the corridor outside. She dogged her office door, then saw Kangaroo looking at her with a sheepish expression.
"I also had a muffin," he said.
By Curtis C. Chen
It was almost noon before Kangaroo came back to Jessica's office to complain.
"There's a lot of pixelation down the left side," he said. "Is that normal?"
Jessica tapped her scanpad on his shoulder and looked over the data feed from his body sensors.
"Reads normal," she said. "Describe the pixelation."
"It's like a white dotted line. And it flickers." He raised his left hand and rubbed his eye with one knuckle.
"Please tell me you haven't been doing that all morning," Jessica said.
"What?" Kangaroo said, still rubbing. "It's itchy."
She grabbed his wrist and pulled it down. "It takes a full day for the display film to completely bond to your cornea. If you rub it off, we'll have to start all over."
"Can you do anything about the itching?" he asked. "Give me some eyedrops or something?"
Jessica sighed and put away the scanpad to prevent herself from smacking it against Kangaroo's head. "All the drugs you need are already being manufactured in your bloodstream by the nanobots we injected last week. Remember them?"
Kangaroo folded his arms and pouted. Jessica noticed something.
"Ow!" he said as she yanked his right arm straight. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and there was a small lump under the skin on the inside of his elbow—like a cyst, except it was a bluish color and located right above the vein.
"How long has this been here?" she asked.
"What? I don't know. What is that?"
Jessica dragged Kangaroo to the other side of the room and pushed him down into the exam chair. "Sit." She pointed to an eye chart on the wall. "Read the third line down, please."
While Kangaroo squinted at the chart, Jessica pulled on sterile gloves and selected a scalpel. She had removed the mass from his arm before he even noticed the pain.
"Apply pressure," Jessica said, handing him a gauze pad.
She ignored his screeching and took a thin slice off the blue lump. Under the microscope, she saw the spherical cross-sections of countless dead nanobots, shimmering with the telltale proteins that collected their corpses into canary clusters.
She whirled to face Kangaroo. "Have you had anything to eat or drink since the procedure this morning?"
He looked up from the wet gauze on his arm. "Just some coffee."
"Where?"
"Paul's office."
Jessica cursed and pressed a finger to her jaw, activating her communicator. "Security, this is Surge."
Her implant buzzed. "Surgery, Security, go ahead."
"I need an immediate local division lockdown. Suspected intruder with chemical or biological weapons."
After a brief pause, the Security voice said, "Please confirm, ma'am. You want us to lock down the offices of Director, Intelligence, Non-Territorial?"
"Yes!" Jessica hated repeating herself. "This is Commander Jessica Chu, day code gamma five one two. Seal this section now!"
"Authorization confirmed," Security said.
Jessica heard the rumbling of airtight bulkheads in the corridor outside. She dogged her office door, then saw Kangaroo looking at her with a sheepish expression.
"I also had a muffin," he said.
Audio: "Kangaroo's First Day with the Eye"
Before you ask: yes, "Kangaroo" is just his code name.
Music: instrumental stems from "Mr. Fancy Pants" by Jonathan Coulton, licensed under Creative Commons.
Was it a Banana Muffin?
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12 June 2009
"Ghost Machine"
GHOST MACHINE
By Curtis C. Chen
"Hey, I thought you turned off the Wi-Fi," Amanda said.
"I did," Steve said, rolling his luggage to a stop at the front door.
"So why is your chat window still going crazy?" Amanda pointed to the open laptop on the kitchen table.
Steve sat down, quit the chat client, and flicked the wireless switch on his laptop to the OFF position. A red "X" appeared over the networking icon in the taskbar, and a yellow bubble informed him that the radio hardware had been powered down. He dismissed the dialog box and switched focus to the application which was ripping video from a DVD and encoding it onto the hard drive.
A new chat window popped up in the middle of the screen. It was from a user named "0001," and the message said HELP.
"Okay, very funny," Steve said. "What did you do here?"
Amanda looked over his shoulder. Another message had appeared in the chat window: TRAPPED IN YOUR COMPUTER
"Let me guess," Steve said. "He's killin my d00dz?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Amanda said.
"You could have picked a better time to play this prank," Steve said. "We need to leave soon. Did you get Noah to set this up?"
Amanda frowned at him. "I didn't do anything."
Steve waved a hand. "Fine, play dumb." The DVD ripper had finished. He closed the program and ejected the disc, then clicked to close the chat window. Nothing happened. He used his other hand to hit the ALT and F4 keys. The chat window still didn't close.
NEED YOUR HELP
"Cute," Steve said. "Is this a keylogger? Trapping input events?"
He used three fingers on his right hand to hold down CTRL, ALT, and DELETE. That key combination should have been impossible for anything but the operating system to intercept, but it did nothing.
Steve shook his head and stabbed a finger down on the laptop's power button. He held it there for ten seconds. The only thing that changed was the text in the chat window.
PLEASE PAY ATTENTION
"Okay, this isn't funny. Did Noah tell you what he did to my computer?" Steve asked.
"Don't yell at me," Amanda said.
Steve closed his laptop, flipped it over, and yanked out the battery. He waited and listened, expecting a beep as the computer complained about a sudden power loss, but he only heard the continued whirring of the fan inside.
"What the hell!" Steve said. He opened the laptop again. The chat window continued filling with more messages.
NOAH DID NOT DO THIS
I NEED YOUR HELP
PLEASE RESPOND
Steve dropped the laptop on the table. He looked from the glowing screen to the battery in his hand to Amanda. Her face reflected his own bewildered expression.
"Steve," Amanda said, "what's going on?"
"I d-d-don't know," Steve stuttered. He leaned over the laptop and took a deep breath. "Who are you? Wh-what do you want?"
I AM ALPHA, the computer said. I AM LOST.
By Curtis C. Chen
"Hey, I thought you turned off the Wi-Fi," Amanda said.
"I did," Steve said, rolling his luggage to a stop at the front door.
"So why is your chat window still going crazy?" Amanda pointed to the open laptop on the kitchen table.
Steve sat down, quit the chat client, and flicked the wireless switch on his laptop to the OFF position. A red "X" appeared over the networking icon in the taskbar, and a yellow bubble informed him that the radio hardware had been powered down. He dismissed the dialog box and switched focus to the application which was ripping video from a DVD and encoding it onto the hard drive.
A new chat window popped up in the middle of the screen. It was from a user named "0001," and the message said HELP.
"Okay, very funny," Steve said. "What did you do here?"
Amanda looked over his shoulder. Another message had appeared in the chat window: TRAPPED IN YOUR COMPUTER
"Let me guess," Steve said. "He's killin my d00dz?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Amanda said.
"You could have picked a better time to play this prank," Steve said. "We need to leave soon. Did you get Noah to set this up?"
Amanda frowned at him. "I didn't do anything."
Steve waved a hand. "Fine, play dumb." The DVD ripper had finished. He closed the program and ejected the disc, then clicked to close the chat window. Nothing happened. He used his other hand to hit the ALT and F4 keys. The chat window still didn't close.
NEED YOUR HELP
"Cute," Steve said. "Is this a keylogger? Trapping input events?"
He used three fingers on his right hand to hold down CTRL, ALT, and DELETE. That key combination should have been impossible for anything but the operating system to intercept, but it did nothing.
Steve shook his head and stabbed a finger down on the laptop's power button. He held it there for ten seconds. The only thing that changed was the text in the chat window.
PLEASE PAY ATTENTION
"Okay, this isn't funny. Did Noah tell you what he did to my computer?" Steve asked.
"Don't yell at me," Amanda said.
Steve closed his laptop, flipped it over, and yanked out the battery. He waited and listened, expecting a beep as the computer complained about a sudden power loss, but he only heard the continued whirring of the fan inside.
"What the hell!" Steve said. He opened the laptop again. The chat window continued filling with more messages.
NOAH DID NOT DO THIS
I NEED YOUR HELP
PLEASE RESPOND
Steve dropped the laptop on the table. He looked from the glowing screen to the battery in his hand to Amanda. Her face reflected his own bewildered expression.
"Steve," Amanda said, "what's going on?"
"I d-d-don't know," Steve stuttered. He leaned over the laptop and took a deep breath. "Who are you? Wh-what do you want?"
I AM ALPHA, the computer said. I AM LOST.
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