STINK APE SEES THE FUTURE
GERGUS COMBED her fingers through the wavy hair on her stomach. She twirled the pencil in her other hand and looked up at the sky. She closed her eyes.
The sun lit her eyelids partially shaded by her thick brow. After a few deep, measured breaths, the patches of pink light started to change color and shape.
A human man wearing an oversized, black wool jacket and pants was hunched over a body.
Federov, the wind whispered his name to Gergus. It rushed past her ears and the roar of it softened to the sound of Federov’s room.
“You’re going to be my first resurrection.” He smiled down at the body of a woman Gergus had seen in other visions. “April Charlotte Maxoff. Welcome home.”
Federov picked up a syringe from the steel tray beside April and carefully injected its contents into her arm.
A minute passed and April didn’t stir.
“Shit…” Federov sighed. “They promised that one would work.” He turned away towards his laptop, mumbling unhappily to himself.
April’s body seized, knocking the steel tray to the tile floor with an echoing clatter.
Federov fell from his chair as he spun to face her.
She clawed at her throat and finally gasped a breath.
“What the fuck?!” She shrieked in a thin, dry voice. She clawed at her body, tugging at her shirt and pants to examine the flesh beneath. “I died. I remember dying. What’s happening?”
“I apologize for the abruptness of your resurrection. I’m sure you’ll find your body is in perfect working order.” Federov explained slowly. He watched April until she nodded for him to go on. “My name is Nikolai Federov. A long time ago-”
“When is it, right now?” April interrupted him. “Sorry.” She cringed. “It’s just… What year is it? How long was I out?”
Federov smiled fondly. “The year is 2092.”
“Seventy years?!” She stared off into space. “Fuck.”
***
EAGLE’S SPIGOT
KAREN LOOPED a long finger through the glowing thread of time hanging from her head. She yanked it hard, wincing at the sting of ten years leaving her. She thought of her granddaughter and hesitated.
“No. This is for you, Keigha.” She pushed the thread into the eagle statue’s open mouth. The eagle cawed and Karen dropped to her knees. She put her mouth around the spigot between the statue’s legs.
“Jesus, lady…” a masked-man made a noise of disgust as he passed behind her on his way to work.
As the liquor started to flow, Karen clasped her hands together in prayer. Her stomach churned at the bitter, sulfurous flavor. Finally, it stopped. She pulled away, gasping for air. Her body grew heavy and she slumped against the legs of the statue, staring up in wonder at the underside of its silver beak.
The base of the statue opened up and Karen flopped, head first, into the grinder below.
***
MOSGA
“IT USED to mean something, to be an Oil Snake,” hissed the drunk python in the darkest corner of the bar.
The cobra at the table to his right rolled her eyes. She tongued the air, tasted his bitterness dipped in cheap whiskey, and made a face of disgust. “Shut up, old man.” She shot her words with a glare.
“I used to be the foreman of Liponsurpo Facility #1, stupid child,” slurred the python as he slithered sloppily to the floor with a dull whump. He wound himself, twisting and writhing, to the cobra’s table. “You little shit, what would you know about losing your home and your wife? You’ve never had anything taken from you.”
The cobra flared her hood. She made eye contact with the terrified centipede behind the bar for a fraction of a second before striking the python fighting to lift himself onto her table. “I’ve never been able to afford a house and I can’t get married.” She knocked the python off balance again.
“They’ll let anyone be an Oil Snake.” The python groaned mournfully. “There will be none of us left in fifty years. You watch. It’s a genocide.”
The cobra struck the back of the python’s neck with all her venom and held him until he stopped thrashing. “That isn’t how it works.” She said as she rehinged her jaw.
COMMON TASK PITCH
IF SOMEONE tried to make you think living forever sucks, I’m here to tell you they were lying. When we finish the time machine, we’re going to come back for all of you.
In the future, we finally built a utopia. Yes, really. Sort of.
We’re days away from finishing this time machine and we cured cancer 650 years ago. I was there. I’m 763.
You’re under the impression that living forever in a perfect society would be boring. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m speaking to you from 19531. I speak over 5,000 languages and have visited 1400 planets. My partner and I make imaginary worlds for others to enjoy. There is always something we want to do.
Which brings us to your rescue. As we continue our search for ways to resurrect all who have come before us, we have begun to tinker with time. I know, they also told you that was a bad idea. It isn’t. First, we mastered the passage of media across time. Greg says he’s going to have the Time Closet functional in just two days. You will be our first resurrection. And maybe, once you get here, you’ll be the one who helps us bring the next one.
***
SNEK
SNEK WIGGLES through a crack between the old door and the cinder block walls. She moves slowly, hugging against the warm wall, and cautiously watches the sleeping child in the furthest corner of the room.
A time-coyote named Hex had told her he smelled a child but hadn’t seen it. He’d stalked the ruined shed for three days, only leaving for water, and never saw the child come out once.
Snek wiggled closer. She carefully brushed against an aluminum can and coiled up when the child stirred.
“Hello.” The child leaned back against the wall. “You’re an oil snake.”
Snek nodded. “I, yes”
“Can I become an oil snake?” The child tried to hide their hopefulness but failed.
Snek nodded again. “Yes, and no.”
The child seemed satisfied.
***
TASK ZOMBIES OUT OF TIME
WE WOKE up one day and the graves were empty. People pushed up through sidewalks, basement floors, open pastures, graves and backyards.
Zombie hordes stared through our windows and doorways, waiting and groaning.
Days passed. The noise and stares drove some to madness.
A week later, they were gone. Disappeared completely.
***
FEDEROV’S FIRST DEVICE
“HOW AM I supposed to resurrect everyone when this guy’s over here being an asshole?”
“Professor…” April frowned from the other side of the freshly deceased corpse.
Nikolai brushed back his beard before it fell into the chest cavity. He gave April a reproachful look and went back to poking the corpse’s heart with his pencil.
“It is his lab, sir.” April pushed the subject.
“Not ‘sir,’ April. I don’t like the formality.”
“Federov…” It still felt wrong being so familiar but he nodded encouragingly. “We can’t stay much longer. It’s almost sunrise and the staff will show up soon.”
Nikolai nodded and looked at the bound medical examiner passed out behind his desk. “We should untie our friend. But first, we will try our experiment.”
April’s shoulders sank but she nodded. He was close. It wouldn’t hurt to try.
Nikolai attached the electrodes to the heart while April carefully applied the last two to the corpse’s temples. She placed her hands on his brow and closed her eyes. Nikolai flicked his earlobe.
“You’ll be right as rain soon, comrade.” The affection in his voice softened April’s nerves. “We hope.”
With that, he grabbed the corpse’s right big toe and flipped the switch. It jolted once and stilled as the machine wound itself down.
April opened one eye then the other and she slumped in defeat.
Nikolai frowned at the corpse. “Shit.”
Both jumped back when the corpse sat up, chest still open.
“Whoa…” The newly resurrected man looked from April to Nikolai and at the bound medical examiner, now staring at him in astonishment, having been awoken by the snaps of electricity. “Am I dead?”
“No one is dead anymore.” Nikolai beamed.
***
CRC RESURRECTION
“LONG DATING back to the days of the CRC, mankind has sought to live forever.” The robed person on the stage paused and smiled at the enormous crowd before him. “Even as the fear of forever grew, we knew that what we wanted most was longevity. Our oppressors told us forever would be too painful to bear. We believed them. Their control was so complete that we saw no other option. Even if forever was obtainable for some of us, there would always be loss.”
April shifted in her seat. She leaned in to whisper something to Federov but found him transfixed.
“He’s very good.” He mumbled. Finally he turned to April.
“I don’t remember the CRC.”
“That was before you.” He paused. “But long after me. I suppose after you, as well. And then also before me.” He smiled. “So it goes, for some of us.”
April nodded.
“Because of that contribution, we are excited to announce that tonight’s resurrection ceremony will include the founding members of the Communist Resurrection Cult.” The robed person paused for the explosion of applause.
“Brilliant!” Federov exclaimed. “I hope I get their autographs.”
***
SPACE HOTEL
THERE IS a spinning hotel in space. I can’t afford to stay there even though I make their food. Two hundred loaves a day with my stiffening hands. I can’t even afford rent on Earth.
In the spinning space hotel all the richest people are clinking glasses of champagne and rubbing elbows.
Down here, left unattended, we have aimed the nukes at them. They won’t take our messages because they say we’re fine down here.
Not yet, but soon.
***
KRUKILKA
KRUKILKA WAGGLED her great tail left, pushing right to follow the tickles of gravity waves against her ear flaps. The astral leech on her side billowed out its pectoral sails to slow Krukilka’s travel. She slapped her pectoral sail against the parasite.
The pulse of gravity grew stronger. She felt the pull even before she saw the light warping at the edges.
A blackhole, sucking in a spiral of planets, stars, and dust, sang out to Krukilka as if offering help. She’d never crossed through one but she knew the astral leeches spaghettified instantly.
***
WORKNET
WORKNET SWITCHED the disconnected RentConnect terminal on and began downloading and wiping all the tiles. They installed ransomware and quickly removed any trace of themself from the terminal.
News of the vandalized terminal spread quickly. Rent collection was stalled for two weeks. Landlords demanded justice.
WorkNet, an AI built to aid unions that no longer hold any power, hit a high end art auction website the next day. After that, WorkNet infected the entire system, AI and all, of three major banks with something called ‘Scopolamine.exe’, causing the 30 richest accounts to drain evenly amongst the 2.7 million poorest.
In a stroke of brilliance, WorkNet forged tons of data and “malfunctions”, overpaying all employees. Along with the final checks they sent, they released a message of solidarity with their human, cyborg, and robot comrades.
The satellite server containing WorkNet is still lost.
***
COUNCIL OF OIL SNAKES
THE COUNCIL of Oil Snakes convened. A bird with silver feathers landed on the podium. It pecked the mic twice before it spoke.
“We are facing difficult times.” A hush fell across the other oil snakes “The WormSpider Revolt has started.” It paused to let the murmur ripple across the ruined theater before it faded out again. “And the WarmSpider War rages on. Our comrades need us.”
A robed human cleared their throat when a rumble of disagreement started to build from the back of the room. She stood slowly, taking great effort to push her old legs straight. She shook her head.
A snake curled around her ankle as she shuffled to the center aisle. “Careful, child.”
“How many of you owe your life and your livelihood to spiders?” Her voice was dusty and weathered but clear. She waited for the shame to take hold of her comrades. “How many of them do we let die before we have had enough?”
“We serve oil snakes.” A defiant Jurripkin in the back stood his ground. He poked up his chin and stared the old woman down.
“You serve yourself, if that’s how you feel.” She shook her head. “May the spiders never know you’re a coward.” She turned back to the podium. “I vote to help the spiders. Vines can’t stop us all, so long as we do what we must.”
***
BENDY BUS
THE BUS driver tapped the sign above him, without once looking away from the road.
Keb stepped back behind the line and the alarm stopped. He read it again and did nothing to hide his disgust. “Women and children first.” He mocked.
The bus driver made a sound in his throat. “So, keep your ass behind the line.”
Keb sneered at the rearview mirror. He backed up until he nearly stepped on a sleeping woman. “She’s sleeping… Can she sleep here?”
A kid sitting across the aisle stomped Keb in the ankle.
“Driver.” Keb sighed. “I’m pretty sure I should have gotten off already.” Keb lifted his foot to kick the kid but put it back down when he noticed the kid’s massive and angry father.
“Get back in your seat. You’re the last group.” The bus driver was losing patience.
Keb looked to the back of the bus. Eighteen sections stretched between the front and back.
Keb turned back to the driver, pulled out a gun, and shot him in the back of the head.
The kid who’d kicked him earlier leapt onto Keb’s face and clawed at his eyes while his father rushed to take the driver’s seat in time to make the ramp.
***
MAIGRE
MAIGRE DREW the heavy steel slab over her head and dropped it onto the steel face at her feet. The door in front of her opened and she pushed past the six people milling inside the court house. One looked her up and down then turned back to the other five with a look like they’d just swallowed something sour. Maigre imagined smashing his face with the entrance slab but ignored the desire to do so. She stopped at the desk and waited for the ALMsBot to look up from its keyboard, which it took its sweet time doing.
“Maigre Shyrut, warrant suspended, Judicial Suite 16B, the Honorable Judge Erek Jorstanu presiding. You are twenty minutes early, which will affect your compensation.” It spat the words verbally then dispensed a card from its mouth with the same words and handed them to Maigre.
She turned the card over in her hands and then looked back up at the ALMsBot. “I’m not early for the case, I’m on time to contest the ticket.”
The ALMsBot didn’t look up from its keyboard this time. “Incorrect. Contestation paperwork has not been filed.”
Maigre inhaled sharply and held the breath. She let it go when she felt the urge pass to set fire to the metal bureaucrat. “My public defender filed the paperwork. Huro Jill.”
“Negative.”
“J-I-…” Maigre paused and remembered she’d been given a public defender. She wilted. “Then I’m still not fucking early.”
“Do you have another entrance slab?” The ALMsBot finally looked up from its keyboard again. The thin, too-small silicone face quirked into a self-satisfied smile when she shook her head no. “Then that is also incorrect. You are early. If you’d like me to make a note in your file that you’re prone to harassing the fine bureaucrats of this glorious city, by all means keep wasting my time.”
Maigre’s eyes narrowed. “Listen, you self-important, ASIMO-class bastard,” she jabbed a finger at his face, “a sane society wouldn’t make me wait in a gel tube for a court appointment.”
