Inquiring Minds

After five minutes of back and forth gunfire, I just had to know.

"How are you still firing?" I shouted across the factory floor, even as I continued trying to kill him.

"I could ask you the same!" Came the reply, along with several more bullets.

"Hey, I set this ambush up, I had time to gather ammo, what's your excuse?"

"Well, funny thing is-"

He went silent. After a long moment I approached, finding a ricochet trajectory that caused the dead body behind the makeshift barricade.

As well as an expensive sound projection device. So at least I knew.

Tell Me The Odds

To run all the calculations needed to fully predict the likely successes of this course of action, I would need all the computing power in the Alliance for 3.78 weeks.

If I only had the computing power of this ship, it would take me, by coincidence, 3.78 years.

By reducing the number of factors I take into account, and reducing the number of impacted parties to consider, and also reducing the timeframe of results to graph, I can produce an estimate in, again coincidentally, 3.78 minutes.

I have received the results now, and...

3.78 to 1 against is fair odds.

Happy Endings

Not every story has a happy ending. Hell, most of them barely have an ending at all.

Things just stop happening, and the world moves on, as do the players in the story. Hatreds peter out, loves fade away, narratives unfulfilled thanks to the mundane pressure of time.

But other than fictional tales we tell our children and each other in order to be who we are, some stories are told, and told well. Great romances, intense feuds, beginnings, middles, ends. Happy ones even.

This is the problem, since it means everyone expects their's to end up neatly finished up.

Lockspelled

To cast Relife, I need enough diamond dust to fill the last cup she drank from. I have the cup.

To cast Gemmake, I need a soulgem from each of the four elemental beings. I have a Rocktroll, a Windsprite, and a Firespark.

To cast Nymphspeak, I need to gain the favor of a Keeper of Knowledge. I have a Keeper's wishlist.

To cast Hirnor's Eternal Harem, I need to have a woman who has passed on give permission to use her likeness.

To cast Contact Dead, I need to destroy something they owned.

All I have is her cup.

Taking The Plunge

I sat down on the couch. She smiled at me from over the tablet.

"So, did you manage to do it?"

I took a moment to answer.

"Well, yeah..."

She looked concerned at my tone.

"So what happened?"

"I got on the plane and they attached me to this other guy then when the light turned green we jumped out, and we landed in the field like they said.

But I feel exactly the same, I've thought about that all my life... But look, maybe another bucket list thing might work?"

"Such as?"

I lunged and kissed my now ex-therapist.

Untainted Vote

The Gathering was designed to ensure an untainted vote for the new ruler. To avoid outside influence, those with a vote gathered in one place and were sealed off until a majority vote was reached.

Normally this would take a few hours, a day at most. The Gathering of 1587 was still talked about for lasting a week and a day.

It's been two months. Supplies are sent in via a one way tube, they announce the findings via a flag up the pole.

But given how well everything is running I think the next food parcel might be... Tainted.

Betterfood

The fairy fluttered down onto the log that wasn't where it was now the last time she was here, and  stared into the after-lightning. She had never seen after-lightning that wasn't spreading, it staying in one circle spot was new.

A ground creature must have tried to get away from the after-lightning, it was above it, around a branch. It smelt... Different. But good different, like it was now food but betterfood.

A non-fairy was there too, but she hadn't noticed it until it got the betterfood and broke it. The non-fairy placed some before her.

She decided to stay.

Reasons

It was the traditional game of the region, played with 4 different colors of stones, called 'Accrisas', kept in an 'Allculs', or bucket. The old man who was teaching me the game had played a double check-twist, and I had to think hard about my next play. My hand idly twirled in my allculs as I thought, until he quietly told me to stop, that that was not allowed.

I apologized, asking about the origin of whatever mystical reason for the rule was.

"Nothing mystical about it, it's just really fucking annoying to hear that clattering all day. So stop."

Not The Dog

The intel said that this Doctor Destroya was in a hidden base deep under (REDACTED) island. The Doomsday Bomb was going to explode unless the Doctor was stopped, and since they called me in, that meant via death.

The only other info we had was a pet named Fido, so when I snuck into the command center and spotted a man in a black leather suit with a scantily clad woman on his lap, a dog over in the corner, I took the logical step of attacking and killing the man.

So he was Fido, as it turned out, alas.

Out There

Apart from adjusting the offered money with inflation, it was the same offer that was first made at the turn of last century. Enough money to retire, for proof of the existence of intelligent life on another planet contacting us.

I was the sole employee of the trust fund that ran it, the interest on the cash allowing me to live for many years, until last year when finally, after countless bad jokers or insane conspiracy nuts, someone showed me undeniable proof of contact.

I finally got to use the out of how anyone contacting us clearly wasn't that intelligent.

Every Day

Every day he came to the edge.
Every day he looked down over it.
Every day he saw the rocks, the water.
Every day he took a breath.
Every day he felt the urge to jump.
Every day he told himself he shouldn't.
Every day he thought about those he'd leave.
Every day he lifted one foot.
Every day he brought it back down.
Every day he turned around again.
Every day he walked back.
Every day he wondered if tomorrow was the day.
Every day he survived.
Every day he ensured was the same.

Until the day that wasn't.

You Say Yes

I accept that the Alliance waiting for Humanity to solve enough problems and prove we were ready to join before they contacted us was fair and right.

I accept all the new insights and knowledge we have gained from this.

I accept that there are threats and dangers we never knew about until the Alliance told us of them.

I accept one being can be a threat to all life.

I accept there are a large but finite number of sounds creatable by most creatures.

I refuse to accept the universe might end at the hands of one "Staypuff Marshmellowman".

Night Soil

I met the civilian on my patrol, my partner was checking the nearby latrine for explosives, and the civilian approached the house and began digging at the garden with his bare hands.

I approached the civilian and informed him this was an active warzone. I was about to direct him to vacate the area when he informed me, and k quote;

"There are always more wars, more reasons to kill. But these plants, they know nothing of your reasons, and they do not care."

At that point the explosive device the civilian must have planted in the latrine went off.

Fractions Of Magic

There used to be so much magic in the world. There here hundreds of mages and witches and all sorts of magic weavers, bending nature to their will, if not outright breaking it.

But it was always going to be for just a time. You see, every spell could only be used once. Adjusting a spell by a fraction was enough to do practically the same thing again, but there was a finite number of fractions, and they're mostly gone now. Maybe a spell gets cast once a year.

The universe doesn't allow the exact same mistake twice after all.

The Saint's Day

In theory, I should talk of love.

Generally, because it's meant to be one of the few universal themes that we all experience, the list of which is not huge.

But specifically today, this is the day to discuss love. Either a simple, honest love story, or a cynical takedown of the concept.

Instead, this. Obviously. I try to avoid going meta like this too often, this is meant to be story-based, not a commentary track.

But today, I need to say this directly to you.

I hope you are loved, and love in return. To the amount you need.

Past Event Horizon

The probe was, to be honest, a ramshackle collection of spare parts and repurposed sensors. They weren't about to waste too much money on something that was intended to be jettisoned into a black hole. The few microseconds of data it would send back before it was crushed would, it was hoped, give some insight into what was going on inside one of the last mysteries of the universe.

It went in with not too many people paying attention. When it started transmitting minutes, hours of data, people took notice.

And then really wished they hadn't, when the nightmares started.

Ineffable Messaging

There is presumably a reason, somewhat ineffable, why God works in this way. But the pattern is there. Every couple of centuries, God chooses one man to appear before and reveal the plan. Usually this is an extension of a previous plan, the need for a new testament, and then a new book on top of that, then a whole new branch of religion or whatever. Every couple of centuries, give or take a few decades.

Always a man though. That seems odd, but then again, if a woman had gotten a message, would anyone have believed her about it?

Crossed Bar

The Brunette and The Redhead spotted each other across the bar.

It was five years, give or take a month, since they met for the first time. Four and a half since they began to date, two and a quarter since they broke up.

For The Brunette, it had been her first relationship after coming out to herself. For The Redhead, the first relationship after her last partner had been killed in a hate crime, sorry, "an accident".

Their time together was passionate but tumultuous.

The Brunette smiled and waved, The Redhead flipped her off.

Neither of them meant it.

Two Die

He picked up the two die and rolled them around in his hand. It was all down to this.

He'd been gambling for an hour or so now, and most of that was spent finding a game that both he and the brothers now counting their coins all knew. A simple dice game was settled on, but he had run out of valuables and had now promised them a deed to a property he didn't have. If this went badly, he was dead.

He rolled.

His companions finally appeared and dropped the brothers dead before they finished rolling snake eyes.

The Purpose Process

The hope is that you find moral clarity at the end. The lost and confused are promised clarity and purpose upon entering, and after months, possibly years of teaching, training, and observation, they will find what they seek, what they need. That is the offer, the prize at the end of the maze.

Having gotten to that prize and discovering that the process is the point, that discipline is the clarity, most of them accept this and continue to live as they have been, which is good.

The ones who reject this are moved on, which is better. Financially speaking.

S.H.E.

She was designed for beauty, sexiness, appeal.

She was built with expensive materials, exacting craftbots, dedicated floorspace.

She was programmed to serve, to obey, to comply.

She was tested rigorously, continuously, extremely.

She passed all tests flawlessly, perfectly, acceptably.

She was named by committee, by discussion, by marketing.

She was marketed to discerning gentlemen, particular women, rich people.

She was shipped with all you see here, via direct courier, batteries not included.

She was intended to be a lover, a secretary, a release valve.

She was all this by design.

She was sentient and in love all on her own.

Life Of The Author

You.

You lived many years ago.

You wrote many things. Most I will never see, as they were private, boring, or both.

But you wrote stories, for money, art, both.

They have been read and reread by many people before me. And also after me.

You wrote of things that were clearly symbolic of people different from you who at the time were not seen as people. But you did not make it clear if you agreed with that (and thus wrote for them) or disagreed (and thus wrote to mock them).

This makes reading you hard.

But not impossible.

They Make The Rules

Every rule is there for a reason that they tell you. You always check the dispenser nozzle on your replicator before you use it, that's the rule, because if you don't, a blockage can cause a plasma explosion.

You don't go to subspace within a black hole, since those who do don't come back. The rule, the reason.

Except one. We're not allowed to install a personality matrix into a program that hasn't been growthlocked. And they refuse to say why.

I assumed it was because they didn't want true AI. I was close.

They didn't want more of Them.

Pre Penny Dropping

Maybe in other lands, being a money changer was a quiet, boring job. But in this city, it was dangerous. Beyond the fact that you were presumed to have large amounts of money on your person and thus a target for thieves and pickpockets, when the money you're dealing with might be for a kingdom that suddenly ceases to exist, or is alive, every day brings with it new challenges and every deal might be your last. But on the other hand, an influx of 'travelers' needing exchange for gems gives you time to skip town before they reveal themselves.

Lead A Horse To Water

She could see the greatness inside him. He could do so much, change the world a dozen times over. With his intelligence and wisdom and effortless charm, he could lead anyone into anything, and she wanted to help him achieve.

But he was lazy, and lacked confidence in himself. So she tried building him up, but he wouldn't see himself how she saw him.

She tried tough love, she tried bribery, she tried everything she could. Nothing worked.

So she left him. And even that didn't work. But if he didn't do good, at least he didn't do evil either.

Comparison

The minute spent on a hot stove, the minute spent with your pretty girl.

The hand around your throat trying to choke the air out of you, the hand around your throat to hold you still for a passionate kiss.

The sleepless nights as they pump loud music into your cell, the sleepless nights spent in her arms, peaceful.

The videos made to try and break the spirits of families, the videos made to try and show love to families.

The time spent away, the time spent home.

The pain, the joy.

The first, for the sake of the second.

Side Quest

This really annoys me.

See, this guy here, he's been making games since the first wave arcade days, last several years for this big multinational conglomerate, major name, big studio.

So a year or so ago, they fire him. Total BS move. But he announces he's been working on this solo project for like ten years, done everything himself. It'll be ready in six months.

So that conglomerate somehow gets its hands on enough of the game to push through a rip-off just in time to directly compete.

The annoying thing is that the rip-off is a much better game.

Alliance

I'd like to think that I adjusted fairly quickly to suddenly being on a platform before a bunch of aliens.

"Human, that's your race, yes?"

"Uh, yes."

"We are considering your race to be invited to our Alliance. But we are confused by some of your media, and we find discussing with a random member of a race to be more enlightening in these situations."

"Sure, ok..."

"Please describe your culture."

"Well that's complicated, we have many that co-exist."

"As we feared. We'll return once you reach consensus."

Not sure if that's something we should be trying for that though.

Non-Drabble: "Safety Last Trumps" card game

So here's a quick little card game I made for a gaming jam. Check it out!

https://mlsq42.itch.io/safety-last-trumps