IMMOLATION: CHAPTER 49

Tea Leaves sat slumped in his chair, unable to lift his mouth as the sludge that passed for food oozed out of the tube and onto the side of his face. Each breath rattled in his chest with effort and his heart palpitated at irregular intervals. To his side he could hear Judge Dervin slurping down his meal, gagging only a few times. They'd been getting better at keeping their food down, ignoring the fermented lumps of who-knows-what. Judge Dervin had even begun to get some of his strength back. Tea Leaves, on the other hand, was only getting sicker. He couldn't tell if it was something they'd put in his food or not, but every day, shortly after eating, he'd feel more of his strength leaving him. A pity, really, since he and Judge Dervin were almost beginning to get along.

“You going to eat that?” Judge Dervin asked once his own food had stopped flowing.

Tea Leaves tried to laugh but all he could manage was a gurgle. He was so tired. All he seemed to do these days was sleep and yet when he awoke he felt just as weak and weary as before.

“How are you doing?” Judge Dervin asked.

Tea Leaves shrugged. “It'll get worse before it gets better,” he said, his mouth tacky with drying saliva.

“Will it get better?” Judge Dervin pressed.

Tea Leaves shifted his head to the side so he could look at Judge Dervin properly. Their relationship had always been an odd one. At times, Tea Leaves thought Judge Dervin was truly worried about him. At the moment, Judge Dervin's expression was unreadable.

“It may if all I am is sick,” Tea Leaves said after some thought. “It may not if I'm poisoned.”

Concern flashed across Judge Dervin's face, but his eyes, looking to his own feeding tube, told Tea Leaves that Judge Dervin's concern was for himself.

“Oh I doubt you have anything to worry about,” Tea Leaves droned, “They only put you here because it was convenient. I'm here for retribution.”

“Why?” Judge Dervin asked. “What did you do?”

It was as though the many years had been stripped away and Tea Leaves could see his native England. His old home, old office, old haunts. “I was a professor,” Tea Leaves heard himself saying. “I loved teaching, seeing young and brilliant minds grow beneath my tutelage.” The faces of his favorite students rose to the surface of his memory and he smiled.

“But I had a weakness,” Tea Leaves went on as the faces of another group of students overshadowed the others. All of them beautiful young women. So full of happiness and life. “I couldn't help it,” he wept, “and after each one I swore it would be the last...but it never was. There was always another beautiful woman, a lovely girl in my class who would be so nice, so innocent and trusting.”

“You're disgusting,” Judge Dervin spat.

“I know,” Tea Leaves agreed emphatically, “but I couldn't help myself. I couldn't. Such an urge, such an impulse...it was beyond reason, beyond madness.”

Tea Leaves needed Judge Dervin to understand this and pleaded silently within that he would.

“And they never caught you,” Judge Dervin said with growing disgust.

“Oh, but they did,” Tea Leaves shivered, “At least, Muto did.”

“Dr. Muto?” Judge Dervin asked, “How?”

“He had a daughter,” Tea Leaves stated.

Judge Dervin leaned back in his chair, a look of shock and horror on his face.

“He already had his plans to change the world, and in exchange for my services he held his silence.” He sucked in a deep breath to continue and something inside pulled painfully tight. His heart quavered and his chest seized. A groan escaped his lips and his eyes bulged with terror. For weeks he'd known his days were numbered, but that number had been vague, ephemeral, as though it would never actually arrive. Muscles throughout his body tensed and jerked in their death throws.

“Dervin,” Tea Leaves choked, “Dervin!” He pierced Judge Dervin with his gaze, willing him to listen to his final words. “I—I could never do it,” the taste of metal overwhelmed his senses for a moment and he curled in on himself. “I could never...” he groaned.

Judge Dervin pushed himself even further back in his chair, apparently repulsed by the sight of Tea Leaves' suffering.

Pain continued to crescendo until Tea Leaves thought he couldn't take any more. “Your daughter lives,” he said through clenched teeth.

Something popped inside of him and Tea Leaves fell limp.

POETRY: DREAM

Endless black I see

Pinpricks of starlight abound

Improbable wish

*

Worlds and wonders

I yearn to explore and touch

Yet I stand Earth-bound

*

Though someday perhaps

These bonds will break and I'll soar

For Terra Nova

*     *     *

   I've been pondering again on my lifelong ambition of being an astronaut and exploring the cosmos. I know I'll probably never get to in this life (due to my poor health and math skills, though my grasp of theory is amazing), but that doesn't keep me from dreaming. Or reading and learning about it. And might I suggest some good reading on the subject? TITAN UNVEILED by Ralph Lorenz and Jacqueline Mitton is an excellent read on the Cassini/Huygens probes that explored Saturn and this remarkable moon.

SHORT STORY: BEYOND THE FEW

Here's all the pieces of the story.                                                                                     BEYOND THE FREEZER  -  BEYOND THE SELF  -  BEYOND THE HERD BEYOND THE FEW  -  BEYOND THE EDGE  -  BEYOND THE STARS

*     *     *

 Cows marched one after the other, silent and expressionless, into the slaughterhouse. Patty needed more beef if he was to win the war. Most of the world fell under his control without anyone noticing as Patty's beef spread throughout the world. Unfortunately, entire countries refused to eat much if any beef and Patty had to take those by force. And so Patty marched his forces onward. People made for better soldiers than the cows did, but that meant sacrificing more cows to feed to the humans in order to keep them under control. Even still, Patty's influence was so large now, losing these few cows were like a trimming of his tail.

This world will be mine, Patty thought to himself while he, as a human, slaughtered himself, as a cow, over and over. Each slaughtered cow was parsed into its different parts, packaged, and then shipped throughout his territory. Each human needed a burger a day to keep them under control. The excess patties were sent to the front lines where they would be disguised in veggie-burgers, cakes, chocolates, and just about anything else he could find that would mask the initial taste of meat. Once the unsuspecting person was under his control, he would take them to the nearest beef dispensary where they would eat a full patty. After that it was only a matter of time and patience to sneak beef into the person's friends and family.

Other countries were less than blind to what was going on. Every cow had been slaughtered in East Asia and left to rot. Patty had no choice but to send actual soldiers there in an effort to enforce his will on them. Even with the resistance he was receiving, Patty calculated that it would only take another couple of months before he had total control of the world.

And then...

Patty wasn't sure. His original plan was to kill the humans, but now with their minds as a part of his, the genius it unlocked was amazing. A world, a universe, far beyond and greater than the grassy fields his bovine minds were limited to. Could he let that go? The human need to discover, to create, their curiosity, were all so unexpected...and so wonderful. To a cow, the sky was just the sky. But to a human, the sky was another field to explore, with far greener grass and sweeter clover than anything else previously tasted.

The slaughter house fell silent and the sudden lack of activity distracted Patty from his reverie. Both the humans and the cows stood still, some of them caught in the middle of a motion, a step, a cut. Patty told them to resume. They obeyed and the slaughter house regained it's usual sounds. Patty frowned. This was not the first time such a thing had occurred. In fact, it seemed to be happening more frequently. The psychologists in him thought it might be his indecision about his actions whereas the neurologists in him theorized he might be reaching the maximum limit of minds that he could control. Patty wished he could get a second opinion but knew such a thing was not reasonable.

China attacked on the western front and Patty had to shift his attention.

Things had been quiet along the border for some time and Patty had been expecting the attack. Air strikes rained down on his ground troupes, a necessary sacrifice, while Patty swooped in with his own fighter jets. Patty was an expert pilot and each jet flew in perfect formation. He had no blind-spot, and the enemy jets were destroyed in moments. Once they were gone, the main assault pressed in and the Chinese front line broke. At the same time, Patty's Australian forces reached the shore along the South China Sea and began their march Westward. Every prisoner captured was force fed a huge amount of beef and then released with a backpack full of jerky. Each new captive was to go out and 'recruit' others to the cause.

*     *     *

Still working out where Patty will go exactly, but I think I've finally cracked the biggest problems I've been having with it.

IMMOLATION: CHAPTER 48

“Don't worry,” came a gentle voice.

It was calm and familiar and Joan pulled her fire inward in an attempt to see who it was. The loud rushing of the air vents subsided with her fire and after a moment the smoke cleared. Standing in the doorway of her cell was a young man dressed in street clothes and holding some kind of electronic device in one hand.

“Hello Matt,” Joan said. She was getting better at recognizing faces.

Matt walked the rest of the way into the room and rested a steady hand on her arm. A moment later and began to lead her forward. Joan quavered with the effort to keep her fire from burning Matt.

“I'm going to burn you,” Joan warned him.

Matt hesitated mid-step. “You don't burn your clothes, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Joan said, “but they're just clothes.”

“Then treat me like you do your clothes,” Matt stated and resumed his walk, leading Joan out through the door and into the long hallway that lead to the enclosure.

Joan wasn't sure about Matt's idea but she couldn't hold her fire back much longer. Inch by inch, her fire crept over her body, sprouting first from her free hand where it would be furthest from Matt. The air around her wavered in the heat, but as always, her clothes were unharmed. Her chest caught fire and she could see Matt's eyes glancing over to it. To his credit, Matt's hand on her arm did not tighten and he maintained a steady pace towards the enclosure.

“I'm sorry they had to move you,” Matt said, still maintaining his calming tone even as Joan's fire started down her other arm. “I wanted you to be there, to be able to see our progress. I think you would have liked...”

Matt's voice trailed off into a whine as the heat from the fire began scorching his hand but he still didn't let go. There wasn't enough time for Matt to get to safety. Even if Matt ran full speed to the enclosure door he wouldn't make it in time. Tears sizzled on her cheeks as she accepted the fact that she was about to kill Matt.

“Just think of me as a piece of clothing, Joan,” Matt's voice was beginning to lose its calm nature. “I'm just sock, just a shoe. Nothing big or complicated.”

Both Joan and Matt flinched as it made contact with his skin. Blisters had already formed on the part of his hand that were nearest the fire, but as the fire swelled up his own arm no new blisters appeared. Matt sighed in relief and Joan let her fire out the rest of the way. With a woof it burst outward and Matt jumped in surprise.

“Sorry,” Joan said in response to his brief return to panic.

“No, no, you're fine,” Matt said, a little breathless. “This is amazing.”

Matt stared unblinking through the fire and over his body. It had been a long time since Joan had seen beauty in her fire. In fact, the only time she could remember actually liking her fire was back when she worked in Mike's book store, meeting Tom. Tom loved her fire. In his most recent letter, Tom had admitted that it was her fire that first caught his attention and was the reason for their first conversation.

“Mmmm,” Joan hummed, imagining that it was Tom's hand on her arm. She shut her eyes and laid her head against Matt's shoulder, again imagining it was Tom's.

Before long, Joan heard the heavy door slide shut behind them and she knew they had entered the enclosure. She sighed heavily and allowed her daydream of walking beside Tom to come to a close. Joan opened her eyes.

“Wow,” she said.

They had told Joan what was going on, why they had moved her to the cell, but she never knew exactly what to expect. An enormous dome rose from the center of the enclosure. She had expected it to look more metallic but it didn't appear to be shiny enough. High above them, there the observation deck once was, they'd built what looked like a control room. Joan could see several people milling about through the control room's safety glass. On this side of the dome was a door. At the moment it was closed.

“You'll need to stop burning for a moment,” Matt said.

It was difficult, but Joan managed it and Matt let go of her arm and moved to open the door. He took hold of the large wheel in the center of the door and turned it. Large bolts unlocked and the door began to open. At first Joan thought Matt was opening the door at an exaggerated slow pace but then she realized that the door was actually several feet thick and took a lot of effort to move.

“That's quite the door,” Joan said as her anxiety began to rise. “Does it open from the inside too?” she asked.

“I think so,” Matt said but he didn't sound very confident in his assumption.

The door finished opening and Joan stared into the darkness of the room beyond.

“In you go,” Matt said, waving her forward, “Once the door's shut you can burn again.”

Joan didn't move. She could feel her face beginning to sweat and patches of fire flared up on her body.

“Whoa,” Matt said taking a step back, “I said you can burn once the door's shut behind you. Any sooner and you might damage the machine.”

“It's dark in there,” Joan groaned.

“Your fire will brighten it up,” Matt said as he continued backing away toward the exit.

More fire spread over Joan but she held it tight to her body and finally began walking towards the doorway into the dome. Her first several steps were halting but as she reached the entrance into the dome she sped up.

Joan barely heard Matt as he called out behind her that he'd shut the door for her. Her fire was only sufficient to cast light a few feet around her. After a few more steps into the dome, the walls widened out a little. She assumed it was because she was passed the door and that she'd find the larger inner room soon. Joan was less than a few feet into the dome when her fire light illuminated the far wall.

“Wait a minute,” Joan whispered with dawning terror.

The door boomed shut and she heard the locks grind into place and Joan threw herself against it, looking for a way to open it. The door was smooth on her side. Joan flared her fire, begging that she'd missed a turn or another door or something. Hoping that she was wrong. They knew better than this. Fire warped back in on itself as it reached the edges of the room revealing a dome shaped room less than six feet across.

Screams echoed loudly within the tiny room as Joan pounded on the door with her fists. Even though Joan could feel air moving into the room, her chest and throat were constricting and she began to hyperventilate.

“PLEASE!” she shrieked, “Let me out of here, I can't breath!”

Bruises formed on her fists and yet she continued to strike the walls. She tried focusing her fire on the door, hoping to melt her way out, but the wall seemed to drink in her fire.

“Of course,” Joan said as it dawned on her, “It was never about me,” and she slumped to the floor in defeat.

*     *     *

I'm trying not to have Joan as just crazy and more crazy, but I also don't want to make her too variable. I think I may have made her too sane in this one. What do you think?

POETRY: FUNERAL

Funeral today

No one I know, yet I go

Farewell to the dead

NUSOL CAPACITY FUND: SELVA ALEGRE, PERU

Over the last few months I've been working on a documentary and it's finally done. Take a look and let me know what you think.

NuSol Capacity Fund: Selva Alegre, Peru

IMMOLATION: CHAPTER 47

Things were going well, Matt thought to himself. Installation was on schedule, funding was more than sufficient, and the university was considering moving him up to full professorship within the year. He kicked a small, blackened stone in front of him and watched as it skittered across the floor of the enclosure. A few of the workmen looked up from their places at the clattering sound. So many of them were on edge, but they had nothing to worry about, Joan wasn't there.

Matt sighed, regretting the fact that he couldn't visit with her. He'd counted on her being there, but on further contemplation, it made sense that they'd moved Joan. From what he'd heard recently, Joan had become a bit unstable and accidents involving Joan and her fire were the last thing Matt needed. Permission may have been granted, but that didn't mean people didn't have their reservations about the project. The crew's nervousness was evidence enough of that.

Dr. Muto strolled over from the other side of the enclosure where he'd been going over some of the plans.

“You are distracted,” Dr. Muto observed.

Matt shrugged his shoulders. “There isn't much for me to do.”

“Are you not concerned for the installation?” Dr. Muto asked.

“These guys seem to know what they're doing,” Matt said with a nod toward the workers.

They walked along the perimeter while Dr. Muto thought.

“The people must know you are concerned,” Dr. Muto said at last. “If they feel that you do not care, how can you expect them to care?”

“They're just builders,” Matt exclaimed. Dr. Muto's concern over such things had increased to near obsessive levels over the past few months and it was beginning to wear on him.

Dr. Muto shook his head in disappointment. “These are not just builders,” he said, “These are people who will tell their families, their friends about what they are doing. You must inspire them so that they, in turn, may inspire others.”

“All we're doing is building a power plant,” Matt said.

Dr. Muto pursed his lips. “Tell me,” he said, “How many countries have fallen?”

Matt shook his head. “I don't know,” he said, “I haven't been keeping track.”

“Well you should,” Dr. Muto scolded him. “This world is dying and it's up to us to save it.”

“I agree that the world's a mess right now,” Matt said, “but this one Heat Machine won't be enough to—

“No, no, no,” Dr. Muto practically shouted.

Heads turned toward them and Dr. Muto regained his composure.

“It must go beyond this one Heat Machine,” he said in an undertone, “but unless the vision goes beyond you and me then other people, other nations, will ignore us and our world will not be saved.”

“Alright,” Matt sighed, agreeing more out of a desire to avoid excess preaching from Dr. Muto than anything else.

Dr. Muto motioned toward a group of workers who were comparing schematics and Matt moved to speak with them. Right before he reached the workers, he looked back over his shoulder to Dr. Muto and saw him smiling proudly in his direction. It reminded Matt of the looks his parents gave him when he graduated high school, and then again when he started college.

“How are things going?” Matt asked brightly.

The workers looked up from the schematics and Matt could see the weary expressions in their faces grow ever so slightly wearier.

“They're going good,” one of them said in a terse tone before they went back to studying the schematics.

“Good,” Matt said, rocking back and forth on his heels, “And the condensers are coming along nicely?”

The workers looked up at him for a moment and then returned to what they were doing without responding. Matt looked down to the schematics and realized they were not working on the condensers but were, in fact, working on the inner shell.

“Oh,” Matt said, his voice a bit muted, “I didn't realize you'd already finished the condensers.”

“Yup,” another of the workers said without looking up. “Finished those last week.”

“Been working on the inner shell ever since then,” said another.

“Right,” Matt said, “look, I know there's nothing I can do to help speed things up here besides leaving you all alone.”

The workers looked back up at Matt, some of them trying to conceal their smiles while the others did nothing to hide their amusement at Matt's forward admission of uselessness.

“The thing is,” Matt went on now that he had their attention, “this power plant, this Heat Machine, is really important to me. I've been fighting to get this thing made for years, and now it's finally getting built and I just can't help but check in every once in a while to see how things are going. And just think, we could be the solution to the energy crisis and end all of the wars going on right now.” Matt left them to their work after that and was glad to find Dr. Muto had left for the evening.

*     *     *

So, I'm not sure how to feel about this chapter. I've been working it and reworking it for a while and though I still feel the need for this chapter, I'm not quite satisfied. I'll keep working on it, but in the mean time, what do you think?