New set of free tiny tales #saturdayscene Aug 2

         #saturdayscene  Aug 3

     Got busy and forgot last week, almost forgot again even though I planned to do this one so this is late but still Saturday my time.  

Another repeat which maybe one or two people here have probably read before. I have a cluster of seven stories here but all are shorter flash and mini tales. From 25 words to 607 words for a total of 1887 words. The mini stories were attempts to place or win in one of the onthepremises mini story contests. “Blue of Home” has been the only one to receive even an honorable mention so far. The longer ones were all based on pictures. All have been revised at least once.  That includes the mini stories that have been lengthened in a couple of cases. About three years ago I decided I like doing these mini stories and even the longer flash. I will be putting out an anthology with 20 to 24 stories. Most will be these very short tales but there will be another anthology with longer 650 to 3750 word stories. I just need two covers and to revise some of the longer ones. 

   These are a variety of genres: fantasy, general fiction, science fiction, historical with a touch of fantasy and one that could be a couple of different genres including steampunk, fantasy and general fiction. 

The first one is “Blue of Home” written on the premise of “Write a story no longer than 50 words that describes color in an innovative way. (No “black as night” clichés; etc.)” The last one will be “Good Work with Thread” the story that could be one of a couple different genre. The others are mixed up.

 Blue of Home 

                                                     

      The viewscreen showed a microscopic blue-Ben stared. The right blue, produced by life. The trip out  had taken too long. He’d seen red suns, green nebalue, black holes--from a distance. None looked this perfect, a blue made from air and water. Ben smiled, the blue of home grew.   

Ohh, no. Not Another One!

Ohhh no, not again-another one of those quests, the wizard thought, and it’s going to be long-again. Even as his friend the warrior, who would be king, cheered and challenged the four man team to see who would be first on those giant, wide steps. After  they became solid enough and moved in a touch closer, of course. The warrior’s cape still bellowed out even though the bottom was in tatters. His sword, though, was still sharp, undinged and whole. 

   

    The new steps had just appeared from nowhere while the team stood at the end of wide path that had led to two man height pillars on the edge of this path. They each had rounded tops and a hole one could reach through at their tops. A person could almost fit their whole head through the holes. The wizard had reached it first and waited for the others. 

      At least here we could breath okay even though the air had a different flavor to it; thorny and mulchy and old, he thought. 

      

      The rest of the path just appeared with no flash or sound. The wizard  could hear everyone’s steps and each one’s breathing, plus the warrior’s boosts, so there was sound here, but nothing when it came to be. It had taken him seconds to realize it was there. He assumed it had been the same for the others since they hadn’t said anything. 

      It looked like another ten minutes of walking would lead us to the doorway. Tall and it looked more like a cave entrance with a bright light inside. And what might be another two pillars. 

    

     They only had a basic idea of where it would take them. But it would be tough, scary, and they would have to use their strengths to the uttermost and to think hard, to get back to their lands. The wizard sighed. 

    

      The whole trip up he had wondered what beings needed a path this wide and steep. Fantastic torches set in the soil lined and lit one side all the way up. They seemed to be ever burning. What looked like giant thorns grew around the edges of the trail and along on the steps. It made it look like both sections belonged together. At the end of the short flight of steps   

  

    Everything had huge thorns here more than that TV show a while back. But the Wizard looked at the dwarf who was ready to go with the challenge even though he usually lost. The other guy just sort of stood there waiting, he went along with whatever happened without much compliant. His thick staff, or long club, came it handy. He could swing it fast and hard, plus his speed was enough to move out of the way of incoming swings.  

  But at just the right moment, when the three leaned forward and bunched their muscles for a jump, the Wizard stepped over the space and stood on the new steps while the others jumped. They each stared at him, incredulous showing. 

      He said, "If we are going, lets get going and get this one over with.”

end

Traveled

Joseph sat on the wood bench near where the train would stop. It looked like rain, which meant less people. He liked that idea, for that meant less people to see him.

       The sudden steam whistle made known his need to stand. He sighed, but put out the effort. After he boarded he could sit on the train all of the way home. He would practice with his new artificial legs at his parents’ house.

Brightest Night

The two surviving Three Domes were full of people. Every room had lights on that showed that. No one knew why the first one had been tipped over in that huge storm during the earthquake, 88 years ago, while the others stood. But the one piece structure had shattered when it hit the side of the rock rise it had been built on. Scavengers had taken a lot of the material; some had been used to enlarge Dome Three.

       Plus no one knew why the three large and two small domes had been built, centuries ago, on consecutive rises. For this purpose? To see and celebrate the brightest night of the year-and this one would the brightest in the years. To be used as way stations when people had to travel by horseback and on foot? The land here was cold and very rough. It had the end of a forest and the beginning of a very rough and cold mountain chain together after all. So a rest stop would have been good.

      It didn’t really matter though, for we were here to party. These were now used to show us the brightest night without light pollution, or cars driving by interfering. Very soon the lights here would become superfluous when the bright sky turned even brighter. We would shout, bang our feet and enjoy the beauty and rarity of the sight. 

end  

Tenth

Jimmy readied himself for bed, thought of a higher power, smiled. 

             Today is the tenth, so ten complete days without it.

             He had thought he would fail, but now he let pride fill him. 

             Even though he still wanted it, hope blossomed.

            Now, I know I can do this.

Last Viking 

The Viking looked over the side of his ship. The mountains rose out of the ocean, higher than he would want to climb anymore. The day looked cloudy and cold even though he was viking and therefore used to cold. While not as deep as in some places the water here was still deep enough to hide monsters, or even an angry whale. 

   Askell glanced along his longship. The wood looked aged, it had nicks, claw marks, and blacken areas. That last fire they barely got out in time. He supposed he could get one of the new style of ships with multiple masts but he, and his crew, were too old to change that much. 

   He stroked his grey beard, looked down. 

   "To port now!” He shouted

   Something scraped the hull as the longship turned too slowly. 

   So this ocean was not deep, those rocks were hard to see. Movement under the water, Oh oh, something huge lived down there. 

   It neared the surface and before he could cry out for them to raise oars, three of them hit it. It thrashed, caused water to splash into the longboat. Cold water that soaked their footwear. The oars didn’t break, thank Odin.

    He snarled, spat bile out. Nothing would sink them in this cruise.

     Once the water settled again he ordered them to head for the distant bit of land. It had what looked like a strip of land they could beach the longship. Further in lay the base of a tall cliff They might be able to build housing right next to the cliff and have fish, birds and seals and maybe even smaller whales to eating and to use for tools and clothes. 

   He looked around. No one would be chasing them this far, but if they did they would pay for that with their blood, for his crew still kept their weapons sharp.

   Askell double checked the depth and for any other movements. He would have to be on his toes to make sure nothing else hindered them.      

end

Good Work With Thread

        He sighed. He leaned back in his slightly stuffed chair-dirty gray after all these years. It was warm in here again. Too cold in the summer, too hot in the winter, even though just right in fall and spring. That meant winter existed outside. When he finished this grand design he would have to take a break and check it out. He liked the rain and fog. 

       A moment later when he took a second to watch the hundred and eleven threads come his way he realized something else. The cotton threads smelled of mildew. Only a wee bit, but enough for his nose to notice. The buyers wouldn’t. But it confirmed his idea of the season of the year. Tiny amounts of mildew only formed when it got hot after the threads got wet. It rained outside so they would get wet while they were brought in here, but then they would dry in the heat inside. And soon it may get in his mouth because very tiny amounts of mildew stayed on his hands. It built up after a while and would get on his tongue when he brushed his lips. 

      His hands played back and forth along his loom. He decided on which colors and which types of fabric joined the others to form the pattern he wanted. He liked the pure gold and silver threads he used at times. The bright colors were a nice break in the same colors most customers wanted. They felt more metallic too-a good change now and then. 

         The rattle the loom made was a subconscious song to him. Most of the time it went on without his mind paying attention. However if it sounded an off note he would know instantly. It had three weeks ago and he had gotten behind while it had been fixed. Now he was almost caught up with all of the orders. There would be always more for his work was excellent.   

      It hadn’t always been of course but over the long years he had gotten used to the old grey, stone walls behind him, the changes in the temperature and smooth wood on the loom. Even the strange way the many almost microscopic fibers in the air he breathed in changed the taste of his lunches. It didn’t matter what he brought with him, it always had a different flavor than at home. Except the once he had to use an oxygen tank for a few weeks because of a lung infection. He had been so glad to stop carrying that tank around, but he missed it at times during lunch. 

     He had been afraid he would die, perhaps falling over onto an unfinished project. Part of him wouldn’t have cared, this job had gotten boring. But they had cured him and now he again enjoyed the way the threads played over his hands and into the loom, forming the design he wanted. Afterwards he had taken chances with intricate motifs. Those he enjoyed the most and seeing, or reading, a customer express joy was worth the extra trouble. 

    The weather had become more enjoyable too. He didn’t use to like fog but now he did. 

     He paused to use a handkerchief to wipe perspiration from his forehead-to make sure he didn’t get any sweat on his project or in his eyes. Too much heat in the winter was still a pain though.  

      After many minutes, he smiled at the design that formed: a beautiful star field with golds, slivers, bright reads and some yellows. Yeah, this one would be great and worth the heat. 

end

Hope you enjoyed them and make a comment or two.

#fantasy #sciencefiction #history #steampunk #generalfiction #contests #freestories #freebies #shortstories #amwriting #blue #indie #saturdayscenes 

SaturdayScenes July 20 Four tales elsewhere

           #saturdayscene  July 20 ’19 

I am cheating a bit on this SaturdayScene and doing a repeat from last Aug. Which is why I added the year to the date. Most everyone who does read these most probably has not seen these already. If so please excuse the repeat. This set of four flash tales take place in other places. The first is Africa, second is somewhere around Norway and the North Pole, third is Africa too-a different part and time than the first story, and last Japan. You probably have seen a longer version of the viking story but still there other I don’t recall posting here before. As I implied before if I am wrong excuse me.   But do not forget my novels for sell, four great adventures, fun to read.  

So without further adeu here is story one:

The Tower

           The boy and girl, tall and lanky, even though in their early teens, walked toward the end of the hills. For now they were called Esiankiki and Loiyan, but that would change as they grew. 

     Both felt not right for the mountains they were leaving were strange to them. Not at all like the Savanna. They feet ached from the hard rough surfaces they had walked on. 

     They stood the beginning of one side of the part of the Savanna where they came from. The trees they knew still grew here and some of the animals they killed or competed with came here too. The air felt warm as it should. The scents of grass, the droppings of lions, and desert air all grew as they walked closer to the natural border. Loiyan thought he heard the cough of a lion far in the distance, but little of any other sounds. 

      It would be good to get back to the foods they knew, bread made from the grains they had grown with.

     Before going home though both had wanted to see the Tower. It looked manmade shape under many and many years of grime, but very few stories passed down to the next generation told of it. No one knew when it had been built or why. To worship the Red god or the Black one maybe. Loiyan thought it was something the evil Red god would like. Esiankiki wasn’t sure. It had different levels, each one with what looked like walls that swooped up to a sharp point. The oi-boni had never restricted the Masai from going there but he had given warnings, as far as they knew no one had climbed to the top-fear maybe or that it was just different?

      Both had some honey to eat so they did not worry about food. Water might be a problem later. It took them two hours or more to get to the tower. Up close it looked both man made and natural. Neither knew how that could be but each agreed on that.

     Loiyan placed the palm of his hand on it: rough like the huge rocks they had just climbed over but warm. Esiankiki placed her ear to it. She thought she heard something but so faint she couldn’t be sure: she said that she didn’t like the roughness against her ear’s skin. She pulled Loiyan back when he wanted to taste it with his tongue. Too rough for that she said. 

     Around the other side they saw a way in, or up. What could be very old steps, worn smooth by feet and weather. With very careful steps they went up. The first level had a place to walk but they couldn’t see over the edge of the wall even as tall as they were. The same with the second level. As far as they could find there was no way in, and no places to sacrifice offerings mixed with grass. Maybe that was on the top. But once they reached as far as they could go still nothing. The inside of the walls looked and felt smooth. The bottom had smelled of age and something neither one liked. But up here only air. They saw lions and tall grass further on, for the walls had grown shorter on the way up.

     No blacken areas with very old ash so no sacrifices up here either. So what was this used for? To watch the lions, to see if any enemies were coming? The People did sometimes fight. 

    They examed the walls carefully for long minutes. Loiyan found lines in the inner wall like a doorway, The People used curtains over doorways, but they knew others had wood and metal doors, some with metal and what was called glass. They both had been to cities, ridden in cars and a train. They had seen a helicopter land. That had been noisy, worse than a very large pride of lions Loiyan had been trapped in when very small. All of the beasts roaring at once had deafen him. The helicopter’s noise had been louder than a big rain storm with lightning and thunder. But if this was a door he nor Esiankiki had seen any way to open it. He tried to slide his fingernails into the cracks but something stopped them. Esiankiki noticed the indentations near waist level on one level, but they didn’t seem to do anything. Loiyan who had the hearing of a warrior thought he heard clicks from inside when he pressed then indentations, but nothing happened. Both felt tiny vibrations in the door but they did nothing. Esiankiki thought she tasted in the air something like what flavors the air when lightning strikes. The space in-between the lines grew warmer but only a little. That made no sense. 

    After a while they gave up and walked down. Back at the bottom they saw more lines in the tower but they were shaped wrong for a doorway for any person. And they all went into the ground. So they knew the Tower went deeper like a huge rock. These doors looked like something that slid out maybe. Esiankiki stated that she wasn’t sure why she thought of that. Loiyan thought it would be something larger than a hut if so. With a final shrug-that the People had picked up from the shorter white visitors-they left and finally headed home. The People or someone else had lived in the Tower many many ages ago, they were now sure of but who? And how did they get the doors to open? They would never know. Maybe The People had climbed those steps and but they came away with more questions that could not be answered so they either forgot them or decided not to bother others with unanswerable questions.  Maybe when Loiyan became a warrior he would ask and come back with others who knew more than he did. For now though they would just go home, it had been too long since they had seen family. 

end

The Last Viking

The Viking looked over the side of his ship. The mountains rose out of the ocean, higher than he would want to climb anymore. The day looked cloudy and cold even though he was viking and therefore used to cold. While not as deep as in some places the water here was still deep enough to hide monsters, or even an angry whale. 

   Askell glanced along his longship. The wood looked aged, it had nicks, claw marks, and blacken areas. That last fire they barely got out in time. He supposed he could get one of the new style of ships with multiple masts but he, and his crew, were too old to change that much. 

   He stroked his grey beard, looked down. 

   "To port now!” He shouted

   Something scraped the hull as the longship turned too slowly. 

   So this ocean was not deep, those rocks were hard to see. Movement under the water, Oh oh, something huge lived down there. 

   It neared the surface and before he could cry out for them to raise oars, three of them hit it. It thrashed, caused water to splash into the longboat. Cold water that soaked their footwear. The oars didn’t break, thank Odin.

    He snarled, spat bile out. Nothing would sink them in this cruise.

     Once the water settled again he ordered them to head for the distant bit of land. It had what looked like a strip of land they could beach the longship. Further in lay the base of a tall cliff They might be able to build housing right next to the cliff and have fish, birds and seals and maybe even smaller whales to eating and to use for tools and clothes. 

   He looked around. No one would be chasing them this far, but if they did they would pay for that with their blood, for his crew still kept their weapons sharp.

   Askell double checked the depth and for any other movements. He would have to be on his toes to make sure nothing else hindered them.      

end

Congratulations 

      Jacob snarled, he wouldn’t let them smash him into the mud. He shoved against one man the same age as himself. That worthy went “ufff” as another two bodies jumped on top of the others. Some of them let out exclamations too. His lighter brown skin could easily be identified among their black skin. They all were from around here while he came from somewhere different.

     He twisted his body one way then another, kept his legs moving so they couldn’t be grabbed. He sneezed: someone wore an awful cologne. Probably Kensu. 

    Someone used both hands to shove him harder, forced his face toward the mud patch on the parade ground. The whole area was plain dirt, not even grass. Mud holes were not rare even though most of it was dry dirt. Light metal bleachers filled one side. But they would be of no advantage to Jacob, nor would the various light and speaker poles around the area.

    Jacob surged his back upward to flip off whoever was on his back. It didn’t work. He thought it was time to start punching and jabbing. A second thought, no one used fists, hands or feet as weapons. They all depended on brute strength, and their weight, to get his face into the mud. 

    Their grunts and heavy breathing filled his ears, but no name calling or obcentaites, which surprised him. He managed to get his feet and hands on the ground: one hand and knee splashed the mud around. He shoved upward and managed to stand as his attackers fell off. However his victory lasted one-second for someone tackled him and rolled with him toward the mud. Kerrich, he thought for. Sweat matted his hair, the clothes of those that touched him were clammy with it. He spat out the mud in his mouth-at least they used fresh water and mostly clean dirt.

    Again he tried to get his hands under him so he could shove off the ground, but two more joined in the, what was still called, a dog pile. His face inched closer to the mud. No! These guys weighed a lot even though he had proven himself the better, stronger fighter. 

    With a snarl he surged upward, but only moved an inch, more poundage landed on him. He could smell the mud, at least it seemed to be just water and dirt. Before he could take a breath his face smashed down into the mud. It filled his mouth when he breathed in, splashed up his cheeks, got in his ears and hair. A roar of victory followed that and with a suddenness that surprised him all of the weight vanished. 

    He jumped up, turned to face them. Eight young men stood in badly formed semi-circle. Their formation instructor would not be happy with that a part of his mind said.

    Half of them looked unsure, would he attack them?  

    The leader stepped forward but only so close. 

    He said, “Congratulations, you will be the first cadet to become Captain.”

    Jacob blinked, they knew that? 

   “We honor you with our traditions.”

   He nodded, for he knew of this one where they congratulated another cadet to raise in rank, but never expected to have it done to him. They had never really excepted him. 

   He spat though, to get the taste of the mud out of his mouth.

   Jon-Wel said, “The commissary has a new batch of Mars Malt beer. You can wash out your mouth with a bottle. I will buy the first one.”

   Jacob didn’t know if that was part of the tradition or because Jacob didn’t usually have much money unlike them. But…

   He smiled, “I would be happy to wash the mud out that way,”

  Some of the men looked relieved. 

  The leader nodded and motioned toward the store. 

  Jacob thought, He may never be one of them, but he had their respect and well wishes, that was good.    

end

            

The Way Stop Castle

Jounn turned in his saddle to face his friend Brock. He felt glad they had stopped. The horses hoofs had been stirring the sand dust. It made his mouth dry when he breathed it in, not to mention making him cough.

          “There is the castle I told you about.”

          After he spoke he looked back down from the small dune they both had stopped on. Night covered the desert which is what they wanted. It cooled quickly here after the sun went down. But the dark made it better not to be seen.

           The castle, a ruled by a neutral Duke far from England, sat on a hill. The neutrality though will probably have to change to one or the other roses, he thought. The structure looked gray tall and narrow with a full moon behind it. A village in front of it. Guards walked the wall. The gate looked still open even this late.

           Brock said, “That wall, most be a good ten feet hight and what? Three feet thick. It would hold an army for a while. If one came here at all.” 

           “I am not fearful of armies, but of sudden changes of neutral Dukes. Or of an assassin.”

          “You think they would really send one after us?”

          Jounn shrugged, “They have done it before. During the last bit of fighting, which I can barely recall, my cousin was challenged to a duel by someone who turned out to be en expert swordsman. After the duel the man disappeared but left a rose. I have heard of that all my life with warnings to be watchful.” 

          “But if you don’t trust the Duke, why stay here?”

          “We are not staying here. We present ourselves and the Duke gives us a suite of rooms. He knows me so will not think it strange that I would come here. We say we need to mediate over the conflict so we need to stay in the rooms without being disturbed. Once settled we change to less conspicuous clothes, bathe and be rid of traveling odors then head down to the stables. In my last two visits I learned that there is a back gate through the wall. It is small but a horse can get through. We get our horses and leave that way. Even if a guard sees us and if he should report it the Duke would be still able to say that he gave us rooms and then we left without even a proper thank you or good bye. That he knows not when, or where we went. Or even if we left the castle. We could be hiding among the vassals and others that live here.”

          “Do you think that will work?”

          “I believe it will, but we still need to be on our toes and watch. We will be able to get supplies for a long trek through the desert, but we hide our trail and head South, which might further confuse anyone that is sent after us.”

         “Well, that plan is better than no plan, or just running.”

        “As I said we will watch and keep our hands close to our swords and daggers. If he portrays us we will sell our lives dearly. If he is still neutral than we go as I said and leave him with an excuse.”

         His friend nodded and said, “Than we should make sure we have no roses on us then he can say he did not realize we had chosen sides.”

         Jounn nodded, picked off a brooch off of his chest, while his friend ripped off a fastener on his cloak, and started his horse down the dune. 

end 

    

Way of the Samurai 

      “You are late.”

    “I know, Father, I have no excuse,” even though I did-saying good bye and finding my round hat had not been easy. I had tied my waist long hair into one braid. My long dress would be help against the cold. I wore a lighter outfit under it, if it warmed. I suspect that my Father had on something under his armor. His helmet with the grimace face hid his face as it should. He wore his two favorite swords and I am sure a third. He stood between the posts of the gate as the sun sank. He looked magnificent.  

     He grunted and nodded once. 

     Our road led between two tall strands of bamboo over a rough surface. No one had come this way in years so they had not kept it up. The wind blew leaves around.

    Father was a hard man, but a tough, experienced, brave and honorable warrior. He showed his love in training me well so I would be able to defend myself and in teaching me honor. I have only the one sword though. I am not a Samurai so can not wear the armor but I am not sure I would want to.

     The air smelled strongly of bamboo and growing things. Maybe we should take some of the shoots to eat later, but Father is ready to leave now. 

     I sighted, I have already defended myself. That group of three thieves had shown surprise when their heads rolled to the ground. The last one had been a fair fighter-he lasted five swings. And months later, the first man I had killed for trying to dishonor me-he had been someone important. Later when questioned Father acted like he didn’t know who had killed him. 

     Now we go-to somewhere else. He has not told me where but I trust him. Maybe it was to protect me, or because he was tired of this place and just wanted to go to some place new, or he knew of something bad coming to this area soon. He would train me more in the way of the Samurai as we go. Maybe I would be able to make my own armor by the times we get there-if I decided to wear some.

    I am glad I had brought two skins of water and two bags of nuts and cooked rice, they would last if we found nothing else to eat later and didn’t collect the shoots here.  He would have something on under his armor too. 

    I kept my eyes on him and did not turn for one last look. 

end

SaturdayScene for June 29 two cyberpunk mini tales

     #saturdayscene    June 29th. After my birthday and two days before the end of my E-book sale-which is Sunday the 30th. Great adventures with a twist-fun reads. Urban Fantasy and Steampunk action adventures. 

       Someone one a writers’ group on FaceBook wanted to see my cyberpunk story about two “sisters”. Here are two very short tales about them. The first one is more an introduction than a story and I may have a third tale someone but I have to find it. Both were inspired from a picture.

      For quite a few months I wrote short stories from pictures. One set was a weekly challenge: writing a story less than 600 words based on a pic of the week. Another set were inspired by Charlie Hoover’s Geekscape daily picture. I seem to have lost touch with the web site so I have not done any for a while. Others did the same but my tales ended up being the longest usually. A couple did some very good 125 to 250 word mini stories. Mine usually began with 250 to 400 words but than later I expanded on them to make stories 500 words to 3,500 words or so. 

So these two I believe came from the Geekscapes pics. I describe the scene in the pic in every story which is one reason, but not the only one, they were so long. 

Both of these two together have  908 words. I might expand on the second one later. Or if I find that third one. 

I am a pryotech and my metal friend can make holograms appear, some are very solid and can hurt if they hit you. Sometimes they explode with the same energy that makes the hologram. 

      She is from a Western City-perhaps on another earth-while I grew up, as a half breed, in an Eastern city. The poor section of that city. 

      I do not have almond eyes but I still have an Asian cast to my skin and face. My hair would be good for a lion's mane even though I am fully female. My braids go down past my bosom almost to my hips. I have the forehead cut high to look alien. 

      My companion has no hair, even though her measurements might be the same as mine. She even likes to show off her belly and her bare arms as I do. They are blue, though, and show the metal panels and joints her limbs are made of. She likes to tie a sweater around her waist though while I like a belt with pouches. Powders, food and weapons fill the pouches. She doesn't need those. She does have a couple of hidden panels with weapons-two of the same type I carry.  

     We met by accident. Some type of rift opened between our two cities. They happen at times and no one knows if they are natural, the result of an accident, or if someone does them on purpose. When this one opened we stood there and stared at each other. Ready for a fight but somehow we each knew we would not need to. We talked and later reveled to the other our childhoods, struggles and powers. Now we get together to go on missions; sometimes to help someone, sometimes to smuggle or do a two story job. Of course that last is more like a ten to fifty story jobs, but everyone still calls that type or work a two story job.  

     We take turns in the other person's home-if you can call them that. Mine has many buildings two to ten stories high, even though few past five, and those in the richer areas. There are staircases and tents plus awnings on each level for most of the levels are open or have very large and long balconies. Hers buildings are taller, even though they have short ones too, with holographic and 3D signs that show what you can get on any level. Hers city has laser cars and holographic neon signs everywhere. It does have a few markets like mine does but most are on the street level with a couple on second and third level what was once parks. 

     My city gets much of its water from a small lake they built it next to.  Hers does to even though they have other sources too for it is a larger city. We are both wanted, and unwanted, we have each other's backs though. We could be sisters.

Second mini story

We were in town together again, we like to visit other cities even other earths to do our work. My sister from another city and me, who has a power not like mine. She has no hair though, even though she can use illusions to make it look like she does. 

     This time we had gone to a big city in my Eastern World. The market in this city was lighted with glow sticks, energy bubbles, battery torches, and whatever light floats down here from the tall buildings that surround this area. It smelled strongly of herbs and spices with apothecary added on. Strangely an odor of Rosemary was strong here. There is an added scent of the pollution of the city here but that wasn't what I smelled. That could be why the one booth owner we saw had an air mask on. I burnt the air in front of me to make sure. I tasted when I breathed in. My sister could stop her breathing when needed.

     Maybe the odor came from the man in the white robe who stood there as if he waited for us.

     A warlord who lived here had something we wanted. A very small, basketball size, fusion reactor. He uses it for emergency energy. We know someone who seems to have their own continual emergency, and so would pay for it a lot for it

     Evidently one of his guards found out that we take what we need, especially from the likes of him. I think this guard does not know us that well, which isn’t surprising. This will be tricky but we can outclass him. Once he is out, or worse, we will head directly for the Warlord's place, high in the building ahead of us. That building has a bridge high up to another highrise. We can use the bridge to escape but not the usual way. 

    My sister looks at me, I nod she produces the ball of blue light between her hands I prepare a concussion out of my powders, and filings. I wait to activate my heat power until he is distracted. 

   At my nod we come out of the shadows and head his way as if we were just out here to buy something. He may suspect us but his stance shows arrogance therefore overconfidence. He has won too many battles but that is good for us.

     We near him ready for whatever unfolds for we make a good team.    

#indie #freestories #shortstories #fun #reading #cyberpunk #femaleleads 

A new SaturdayScenes post, for May Fourth And Star Wars Day

#saturdayscenes   May 4     May the Fourth be with you. 

I have no Star Wars tales, even though years ago I did write two fanfic Star Wars stories. Not sure what happened to them. One I had thought of changing so it would not be Star War like anymore. But I would have to start from scratch. 

However I do have a couple of stories that sort of fit. I thought about finding an old Space Opera story but these might be better. The first is about a device that might be a pre droid. The second tale is about a one man freighter operator who just might be like a young version of a major Star Wars character. 

Both stories together are 1,420 words. Shorter this week, what SaturdayScenes should be. 

Shortie here titled “The Cambot” and is based on a picture.

Lost Cambot

                       The small figure stood there on a cement bridge. It looked at the paper that had slid out of a slot on the bottom of its body above the one wheel there. 

       The paper didn’t help it. For it had somehow rolled out from the range of its programing. And it hadn’t heard any radio signals calling it back either. Now it didn’t know what to do. At least the rain that came was coming down hard wouldn’t harm it, for it was made for outside use, in all weather conditions. Of course for appearances sake its wheel was rubber which might slip on ice, snow or even a wet surface. 

      The camera which made up half of its body would broadcast this image to anyone close by who had the correct devices. But no bluetooth signals nearby. It knew it now sat on an old cement bridged without any smart tech that it might be able to connect with. Someone could plug in a three pronged device on the camera itself or even a USB wire plugged in a port under the camera. Of course most bluetooth devices had security it could not get through.

    The cold and wet weather didn’t bother it but it did keep people inside, both the good and bad. Bad in that there were humans that would steal it and tear it apart so they could sell its insides. Or reprogram it for some use it hadn’t been made for. A good person would take it back home, or call someone who would.

    Vibrations in the cement made it roll back from the edge of the street it had found itself. A big truck was coming, if it stood too close the suction of the vehicle could suck it under the truck or a part of the large vehicle might impact it damaging it.

    What to do?

    The truck zoomed by, the roar of its engines confusing the cambot’s hearing. After the heavy vehicle rolled on, it saw someone running its way. No signal came from them so it decided they wanted to steal it. It rolled toward dark shadows, hid in a corner of the bridge’s railing. They looked for it but it shut down most of its components, so no light or noise would show them where it hid.  

    Half an hour later it rolled off the bridge, to do so it had to go out onto the pavement for there were steps on the cement. It made sure it stayed there only for a minute. Another chase when those humans came back. It followed a cat who also ran. They both made it to a dark place under debris. An hour later it beeped. 

    What? It hadn’t done that.

    Oh, a signal. When it came close enough the cambot rolled out into the open. A man in a uniform it knew saw it and came over. 

    The man picked it up and said, “There you are. We will take you back home with your buddies.”

    His words and signaling device fit the cambot’s programing perimeters so it now knew what to do.   

Second one is one of the very first stories I did from a picture probably around 3, maybe 4, years ago. I call it “The Emergency Sale”

         Makueue sat at his controls, he frowned at the images above the slanted, grey panel. His eyes closed for a moment. 

         Nothing left to do. 

         His small cockpit seemed to close in on him. He could reach from one side to the other. It fit his small freighter and provided a bit more storage. Now though that extra room might cost him more. He wanted to bang his hand on the control panel but he had done that before-the panel was very hard. All it did was hurt and cause the images to jumble for a second. 

       A movement at the side made him glanced at the viewer at the side of his controls. An image of William Shakespeare showed. The real likeness of him. Or so who they now thought he was. He had turned down the sound and paused it when the call came through. Now there silence filled his ears, which fit. He had bought new versions of the plays, set in contemporary settings, to watch on this trip. He loved the Bard’s plays. Real life reactions mixed in with poetic lines. Shakespeare knew how to write.

    Damn, that beep, which had signaled the note from the Commence Ministry of the Walton Kingdom, had distracted him from the beginning of “Taming of the Shrew”. Now he didn’t fell like watching it. Bile came up at the news. 

   The recorded memo had been short. The cost of the Temp commence license had gone up. That meant he didn’t have enough to buy one. Without it if he tried to sell anything or deliver cargo to anyone, he could face prison time as a smuggler. The Royal Family, of course, could buy things from anyone they wanted to. They wouldn’t want anything he had, even if the cargo belonged to him, which it didn’t.  

        His ship, the Surreal Camel, rested near the huge hourglass-like station. Sensor dishes, weapons and squarish long comm antenna marred the bottom and top. It was this system’s  Royal courts, multi-governmental office complex. It also housed the HQ for their Smuggler Officers which also served as search and rescue. The home station, where most of the citizens lived, was another two hour trip at medium sublight speeds.

       In frustration he looked over his shoulder, pictured his ship. Its streamline oval hull with two small, fat cigar shaped outriggers. The ship’s pulse drives and gravity twisters rested in those. The Camel had two smaller drives in the main hull, away from the main drives. They could be used as thrusters, or emergency propulsion, if something happened to the larger ones. The middle of the ship could be expanded upward to make more cargo space. Right now the hump was out all the way out for he had a full cargo.

     Which I can’t sell now.

     He looked to the side, to the ceiling and deck under his shin high blue ship boots. At the moment he wore something inspired by old Earth water pirate, even though with odd colors. His shirt had a basic brown with earth tone red panels and green short wide stripes. All white pants with wide legs, completed his outfit. 

    Nothing here to inspire me. 

    If he could deliver his cargo he would get paid and be able to pay for the Temp Comm license, but they didn’t work that way here. They wouldn’t do that even for a late fee. He wouldn’t get much out of this trip but at least his costumer would be happy and his rep would be in tact. Now he could lose the cargo fee and his rep if he had to leave without delivering the cargo. And the client might sue him for the price he would have gotten. All because these asteroid heads wanted more money. 

      He couldn’t sit here  much longer either, or they would charge him for extravehicular docking fees. Makueue glanced at the side screen again. He shook his head. He had only a total of 27 hours and thirty-four and a half minutes to stay here and over half of that was gone. A strange amount of time-maybe it was a local day. No time to watch those flare blasted plays, not even just the Tragedies, to help him relax. Or to fix his mood before he had to pilot the Camel back home in defeat. 

     He stood. No room to pace in his control cabin and the rest of the small ship was too full to do a descent pace. He wanted to jump up and down; bang something. Another look at his controls. He blinked, titled his head as he stared at a tiny cube, smaller than dice, that sat in the player. What had he read about the King? 

      Maybe, I do have something to inspire me.

     He sat down, dialed the call sign for a certain official. Two days later he piloted the Camel back home. It had taken most of the rest of the 27 hours and odd minutes to get in touch with a member of the Royal family. A buyer, who came on board and examined the video cube, bought it. That gave him more time. The cube was one of a type. It could not be copied which meant it would be rare here. The buyer paid him and took the cube. Makueue bought the license, delivered his cargo to the customer;s buyer, got paid all with his rep intact and ended up with 25% more money than expected. 

    Not bad for a bad day. 

End

#sciencefiction #starwars #space #freestories #indie #thinking #devices #freighters