2018 Short Stories

I don’t have a complete list yet of my 2018 short stories, but here’s a peek into what’s coming each Friday from January to May. 

My newest science fiction novel Newearth—Justine Awakens is slated for publication in early 2018. Many of the characters from my short stories really “come alive” in the Newearth books.

Enjoy!

January 5th

Winter Irony

January 12th

Now I See

January 19th

A Beggar’s Choice

January 26th

Intercept Course

February 2nd

Live Again

February 9th

Outlast the Ages

February 16th

Ol’ Diablo

February 23rd

Edge of Life

March 2nd

You Don’t Look Dead To Me

March 9th

Not Natural

March 16th

Don’t Miss a Day

March 23rd

The Great Wall

March 30th

My Love Is Strong

April 6th

Live

April 13th

So Blind

April 20th

Wait and See

April 27th

Alternate Universe

May 4th

Progress 

Common Destiny

Luxonians—light beings from planet Lux that can transform into any form they wish, usually matching their host’s physiology.

Crestonians—amphibious beings from the planet Crestar. They have no bones and wear a mechanical exoskeleton when out of the water. They have long, soft bodies and tentacles, while their eyes are large and watery. A large “brain sack” is tucked in a spiral shell on their head.

*Ingoti —androids from the planet Ingilium are large beings—up to seven feet tall with extensive weight and girth but still fast and powerful. They are never seen outside of their techno-organic armor and breather helms

 Bhuaci— shapeshifters from the planet Helm are gelatinous beings and often called the “perfect race” as they mold themselves into the physical ideal of any race they encounter. They have suffered massive persecution, and their sister planet was destroyed by the planet-eater Cosmos.

 ~~~

Cerulean, in his human form, wore casual clothes and stared at the magnificent painting before him—his gaze absorbing the hues of the landscape and the textures of the Oldearth farmhouse like a dying man inhaling his last, wholesome breath. Though the airy space surrounding him framed a myriad of Oldearth masterpieces in pristine clarity, a weary, echoing silence hung in the air.

Supreme Judge Sterling, a tall, ascetic-looking Luxonian arrayed in long, formal robes with flowing sleeves, strolled across the art gallery and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Cerulean—kindred spirits with vastly different points of view.

Before either acknowledged the other, slapping footsteps drew near, rhythmically pacing the distance across the highly polished floor.

A Crestonian, Taug, in high, thick boots eyed the two Luxonians. He stopped two meters away. His bulbous eyes followed the zigzagging path of a horsefly, which suddenly alighted on a bench and morphed into a lithe, almond-eyed, young woman. The Crestonian exchanged grins with the Bhuachi female—Faye.

Sterling lifted his arm in salute. “Welcome, Taug, Faye! We’re glad you were able to come. We are still expecting Riko—”

A Uanyi in a crisp, white shirt, tight, blue slacks and wearing an Oldearth ball cap clumped into the room, his gaze swung right and left in long, sweeping arcs. As he met Cerulean’s gaze, he slowed and tilted his head in inquiry.

Refusing any delay, Sterling ushered them into a right corridor where the light dimmed to a faint glow. Landscape paintings of ancient Oldearth monuments arrayed the walls in somber reminiscence.

The passage flowed into a smaller, mustard-yellow room simply furnished with a circular table, chairs, and a counter armed with assorted drinks. With a snap of his fingers, Sterling illuminated a brilliant hologram of Newearth turning in space. Docked at one of the three modest satellite stations off Newearth, a small, red ship glowed in readiness.

After clearing his throat, Sterling’s deep timbered voice broke the expectant silence. “My friends, may I introduce—The Summons. She awaits her crew—ready for her glorious mission—to chase a riddle and ensure our salvation.”

Taug’s bulbous eyes flickered from Sterling to Cerulean, one tentacle rose. “Translation?”

Darting a glance at Sterling, Cerulean stepped forward. “I’m leading a small crew to the Divide to find Omega in the hopes that he will help us to defeat Cosmos before she arrives.”

Faye’s naturally pale face, blanched to sheer whiteness. “You go to your death. No one goes to the Divide.”

Taug flicked a tentacle airily. “Well, some go in, but none come out.”

Sterling strolled around the hovering hologram and pointed to a black mass. “It’s true; the Divide is a vast mystery leading unwary ships to their demise, but in our own desperation, Luxonians investigated further than any other beings, and we have found it is possible to get very close, jumping from safe space to another, like jumping from stone to stone across an ocean.”

Riko plodded forward, staring at the black mass. “Fool’s errand.” His wide-eyed gaze lifted and surveyed the assembly with a slight shrug. “Of course, since death is imminent anyway—”

Cerulean clapped his hands in impatience. “We have no choice. I have no choice, and I’m leading a willing crew. No one is forced to come. But while I search out Omega, there will be another ship—”

Sterling snapped his fingers again and another spacecraft—smaller, more angular, and metallic gray—floated at docking bay two, next to the Summons. “The Merrimack—a marvel of modern engineering—is ready to search out our common enemy and monitor her every movement.

Riko’s glare zeroed in on the small craft. “With all our abilities, one of our races should have destroyed Cosmos generations ago. Why is it left to Newearth to defeat her now?”

Touring around the hologram, Cerulean’s fingers slid along the table edge. He stopped in front of Riko and stared down. “Because no one dared. She is a planet-eating terror, and she always strikes the weakest planets. Like a virus, she smells discord and pounces when the inhabitants are obsessed with turmoil.” He sighed and moved past Riko, circling around, his gaze flowing over Newearth, absorbing her marble-like beauty.

“Newearth has been ripe for a disaster since her inception, but we have been gaining strength of late. We’re at a crossroads, whether to sink into a morass of divided beings or grow into a stronger world, ready to embrace a universe of possibilities. Cosmos knows this. She has waited for this ripening and now turns her appetite toward us.”

“We’re doomed?” Faye’s child-like eyes brimmed with tears.

Placing a firm hand on Cerulean’s shoulder, Sterling surveyed the assembly. “Not—if you save yourselves.”

Cerulean opened his arms. “This is Newearth’s hour of Common Destiny. What shall it be? An ancient death, devoured by an unfeeling beast or rising to new life?”

Taug nodded to the floor, then raised his bulbous eyes and grinned. “I’d like to stay alive. Where would you have me serve?”

Cerulean’s gaze flickered over Faye.

Grabbing Taug’s tentacle, she stepped up to Cerulean. “We’ll serve together.”

Four pairs of eyes swiveled toward Riko.

Riko pursed his lips and rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll need a communication center on Newearth, and my café serves up the wildest gossip possible—this side of the Divide—right along with our quality food.”

Sterling grinned. “Common Destiny prevails.”

~~~

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Historical Fiction

ARAM http://amzn.to/2lTHVXR

Ishtar’s Redemption http://amzn.to/2kHKLtN

Neb the Great http://amzn.to/2kS1Ylm

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage http://amzn.to/2lscPWg

Georgios II—A Chosen People http://amzn.to/2lTK0mu

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Yelsa’s Choice

Yelsa loved sunshine. The rays of light pouring down on her elven face and perfectly petite form immersed her soul in ecstasy. She lay back on the shore, her sandaled feet falling to the side, her dark brown shorts contrasting with the tan grains of sand, while her white blouse rippled like the waves in a gentle breeze. She gazed up at a wispy cloud sweeping across the blue expanse. Birds twittered in the tree line behind her, animating a smile on her lips. “The Creator be praised—”

Her sensitive ears perked at the sound of footsteps plowing across the sand. She waited for a shadow to intercept the sun.

“Yelsa?” The voice, though deep and commanding, hinted at a need.

Raising herself on one arm, Yelsa turned and faced the being before her—a Luxonian in human form: dark skinned, muscular, black eyes, wearing casual long pants, a dark blue t-shirt, and sporting a black headscarf. Her left eyebrow arched.

“Yes? May I be of assistance, Luxonian?”

The stranger grinned as he pulled his headscarf away. “No fooling a Bhuac, is there?” Kneeing on the sand, he gazed across the waves and inhaled a cleansing breath. “Beautiful. Hard to find serenity on Newearth, but you’ve got something good here.” Facing her, he thrust out a work-roughened hand. “Roux, a friend of Cerulean. Faye gave me your name.”

Yelsa sat up, shook his hand, and nodded. “Faye is revered among my people.”

“Apparently she thinks a lot of you—bragged non-stop about your tracking and tactical abilities—”

Yelsa’s cheeks flushed as she stood, her eyes dancing over the waves as if to find a path across. “Faye likes to exaggerate our merits—part of our culture—to always appear better than we are.”

Roux heaved himself to his feet and brushed the sand from his pants. “I haven’t met a race yet who wants to appear any less than the best.” His sudden grin disappeared as he turned toward the woods and gestured an invitation forward.

After picking up a yellow bag, Yelsa wrapped its long embroidered strap over her shoulder and padded across the shifting sand.

Glancing in her direction, Roux’s gaze swept over her. “You’ve heard about Cosmos?”

Yelsa sighed. “Faye sent word through Bhuaci channels. I doubt there’s anyone on Newearth who’s ignorant of our impending doom.”

Roux rubbed his hands across his face. “From the way most are reacting, you’d never guess. Business as usual.”

“Rumor has it that Cerulean is leading a mission to find the mysterious Omega—so he can deal with her. Of course, the Inter-Alien Alliance and Newearth authorities assure us that they have everything well in hand.”

The sand gave way to black earth and short grass as they entered a copse of woods. Leaning against a large, spreading oak, Roux shrugged. “The IAA has no interest in panic, so they’ll assure us of anything and everything. But the truth is….  Well, Cerulean’s mission is only a part of the plan. No one, not even the Supreme Council, knows exactly where Omega lives, so the whole venture is a gamble.” His gaze lingered over Yelsa as she shook the sand out her sandals, propping one hand on the tree.

Comfortable again, she crossed her arms and waited.

Roux pressed forward and strolled deeper into the park-like woods. “We’re sending a ship out in search of Cosmos herself.”

“To determine her exact location?” Yelsa strode along, her gaze sweeping her environment.

“To intercept and—” he hesitated and glanced her direction, “—to engage if necessary.”

Furrows formed between Yelsa’s blue eyes; her gaze fell to the ground as she stepped evenly at his side. “You have the IAA’s authority—?”

Roux slapped his leg. “They’re lending me a ship….” He stopped and faced her, his gaze searching hers. “Listen, I worked with Cerulean on the original Inter-Alien-Alliance, and it was no picnic, trust me. Nearly got ourselves killed. Trying to get everyone to agree is about as dangerous as waiting for Cosmos to devour us.”

“So you’re taking the law—”

“We’re not taking anything!” Roux threw back his head, closing his eyes. Inhaling a deep breath, he held up a hand. “I’m explaining this badly. Cerulean should’ve stopped here first. He’s more eloquent.”

Yelsa’s chuckle brought a relieved sigh from Roux’s middle.

She arched her brows. “You’ll do fine. Just tell me the facts.”

“Facts? Okay, the fact is that we are sending out another ship—the Merrimack—to locate Cosmos, and we need you on board.”

“And if we find her, what will you do? Form a treaty—?”

Roux rolled his eyes. “A treaty like—say—Please don’t eat us, or we’ll be forced to cause you digestive problems?”

Yelsa stared deep into the woods. Finally, her gaze refocused, and she locked onto Roux. “Cosmos devoured our sister planet. My sister lived there….”

Roux closed his eyes; his hand pressed together. After a moment, he blew air between his lips and glanced at Yelsa. “You understand why we need you.”

Yelsa took the lead and marched along the winding path, slapping stray vines out of her way. After hiking a steep hill, she stopped at the edge of a vast viewing platform overlooking Newearth’s largest transport docking bay. “Once you direct me to the Merrimack’s shuttle, I’ll know exactly what to do.”

~~~

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Historical Fiction

ARAM http://amzn.to/2lTHVXR

Ishtar’s Redemption http://amzn.to/2kHKLtN

Neb the Great http://amzn.to/2kS1Ylm

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage http://amzn.to/2lscPWg

Georgios II—A Chosen People http://amzn.to/2lTK0mu

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Xavier Pax’s Illusion

Luxonians— light beings that can transform into any form they wish usually matching their host’s physiology.

Spaceship: Summons docked at Newearth bay.

~~~

Xavier Pax never liked to lie, but some illusions made life easier. Wearing a dark green, form-fitting bodysuit with tall brown boots, his bulky figure appeared almost trim. He tapped his short, blunt fingers on the ship’s console and considered the slim, brown-eyed Luxonian before him. Cerulean was renowned throughout the region for honesty and integrity, a reputation many races found highly suspect. Still, Cerulean’s plea appeared sincere, and objective evidence proved the truth of his words.

Pax folded his thick, muscular arms across his chest and lifted his chin. “So, you want me to pilot my ship with your chosen crew across the universe to—where—exactly?”

Wearing baggy pants and an over-sized sweater, Cerulean strolled around the bridge, one hand sliding over the rail. “Omega may be powerful, but he isn’t immaterial. He lives someplace.” Cerulean stopped with a sigh and leaned against the captain’s chair a couple of meters in front of Pax. “My sources suggest a location—” He pointed to the controls embedded in the chair. “May I?”

Pax nodded.

Cerulean tapped the console, and the starry universe on the bridge-screen suddenly refocused.

Pax’s eyebrows rose. “That’s quite a distance and very little is known about that sector. You really want to go there?”

Cerulean gripped the rail. “It’s our best guess and as things stand, we had better do something fast. Cosmos is coming this way, and she’s bringing her appetite.”

Pax stepped forward and peered at the screen. “Which planet—?”

Cerulean started forward but stumbled.

Pax caught him under the arm. “You’re not well.”

Snorting back a laugh, Cerulean’s gaze bounced off Pax’s worried frown. “That’d be an understatement. And another reason to hurry.” He jabbed a finger at a star cluster on the right. “Here, the second planet from this sun. It’s presently known as Mirage—a world that Omega created for his amusement.”

Pax titled his head. “Created? A world?”

With an indulgent smile, Cerulean spread his hands wide. “Where’ve you been? All Newearth has been chattering about the mysterious Omega and his appearance—and disappearance—during Justine Santana’s trial.”

Pax crossed his arms. “The Cresta murderer?” He grinned.  “Personally, I wouldn’t mind being killed by something that gorgeous.”

The lift door slid open, and Justine stepped forward, her gaze flickering from Cerulean to Pax and back to Cerulean. “Am I interrupting?”

Pax stepped back with a low whistle.

Cerulean beckoned Justine forward and gestured toward the screen. “Just the woman I need. Show our good captain the coordinates for Mirage.”

Justine pursed her lips. “Please?”

Cerulean rolled his eyes. “Please.” He cleared his throat and glanced at Pax. “She’s just become a mother, so she thinks she needs to correct everyone’s gramm—”

“Manners.” Justine’s fingers flew across the console as she zoomed the screen closer to a specific star and magnified, focusing on an orbiting green planet. Slapping her hands as if to dust off the dirty work, she turned and eyed Cerulean. “Now that I am looking after my daughter’s well being, I’ve come to recognize the deficiencies of her environment.”

Cerulean placed his hands on his hips, his voice rising in indignation. “Meaning?”

“You’re the model of perfection, Cerulean, but a please and thank you every now and then won’t kill you.”

Pax stepped forward with a conciliatory wave. “Please, if you would, I’d like to be introduced.”

leaning against the railing, Cerulean gestured toward Justine. “Justine Santana—innocent human-android with visions of perfect manners—Xavier Pax—renowned ship’s captain who’d like to know where the—”

Justine wiggled a warning finger. She strolled across the bridge, her gaze sweeping over every instrument panel on the bridge. “Well, equipped and state of the art. I’m impressed.” She bestowed her full attention and a warm smile on Pax. “We’re chasing a riddle in hopes of finding a mirage.”

A light shone in Pax’s eyes accompanied by a meandering, mischievous grin. He flashed a glance at Cerulean. “If you had started with that, I would have accepted immediately.”

Cerulean nodded. His gaze strayed from Pax to Justine. “So glad. Now, if we can get Clare to cooperate, we’ll be on our way.” Cerulean started to the lift.

With a frown, Justine leaned on the railing like a woman who had no intention of moving another step. “What’s your hurry? Bala and Max are already aboard the Merrimack and have signed on two good—”

With a shudder, Cerulean turned translucent, nearly disappearing from sight. He wavered and fell full length upon the deck.

In a flash, Justine bent over him, checking his vital signs.

Pax leaned forward, frowning. “I knew he was ill.” He sighed and stepped back. “I guess you better take him in for healing before we begin chasing your mirages.”

Cerulean opened his eyes and struggled to his feet.

Justine gripped his arm and helped him stand. Her gaze flashed to Pax. “On the contrary, we’re leaving Newearth within two minutes of Clare’s arrival. She’s the last of our crew, and I told her to hurry.” She swiveled toward the lift. “Where’s Cerulean’s cabin?”

Pax swallowed, marched to a console, and scrolled through room assignments. “Second level, suite five—but wait—I hardly know you—or him—or what’s expected of me. How can I trust you?”

Justine’s steely gaze speared Pax’s wide eyes. “Same way I’m going to trust you—human who’s not humane—by sheer necessity.” Justine propelled Cerulean’s limp form to the lift and turned, firmly grasping Cerulean’s shoulder. “You think you have trust issues now, wait till you meet Clare.” She tapped the door panel. “Second level.”

After the door slid shut, Pax fell into the Captain’s chair and rubbed his temple. He snorted. “Chasing a riddle to find a mirage? Ha. I should feel right at home.”

~~~

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Historical Fiction

ARAM http://amzn.to/2lTHVXR

Ishtar’s Redemption http://amzn.to/2kHKLtN

Neb the Great http://amzn.to/2kS1Ylm

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage http://amzn.to/2lscPWg

Georgios II—A Chosen People http://amzn.to/2lTK0mu

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Last of Her Kind—Novel

 

Last of Her Kind

Available on Amazon

Prologue

In serene, black-enshrouded silence, Earth turned on its axis, a sharp contrast to the bustling reality on the surface. The gaze of a hidden mind slipped past the blue and white sphere, shifting between burning stars and vast planetary systems, all of which moved according to their own placid, pre-determined paths. His interest focused on one planet, Lux, a world of light beings, luminous in the reflection of their own glory.

On the balcony of the Capitol building, as the sun nestled itself over the horizon, two figures faced each other. Roux, a Luxonian guardian, glowed as a golden brown, humanoid figure, while Sterling, draped in his Supreme Judge robes, shimmered yellow-white, faintly defined by his elderly human outline.

Sterling, somber and erect, turned his back on Roux and faced the Luxonian world gloriously set before him. The sky burst with brilliant colors, while shreds of gray clouds drifted aside and revealed three distinct moons. His voice rumbled. “You understand your role when you return?”

Roux grinned, a mischievous sparkle in his luminous eyes. “I’m your inside man, a guardian and—a spy.”

Sterling pulled his mesmerized gaze from the scene and faced his companion. “You use such colorful phrases, Roux. All I ask is that you stay alert. Watch for an opportunity.”

“For what, exactly?”

“I’m not sure. Humanity won’t survive the coming crisis. But Earth will remain.”

The sparkle faded and Roux’s features hardened, defining his human figure in greater detail. His curly, black hair, sharp chin, and muscled arms clarified his youth but little else. His eyebrows rose. “You’re going to harvest an abandoned planet?”

“Whatever is left. Perhaps more. Maybe the remnant. We need help, too. You do realize that?”

Roux sighed, his broad shoulders slumping. As he strode across the room, his figure gained definition. He snatched up a stack of clothes with a pair of shoes perched on top.

“It’s them or us?”

Spreading his shimmering arms wide, Sterling returned to the setting sun. “Let’s just say that their loss may be our gain.”

In a few steps, Roux retreated behind a partitioned wall. A zipping sound punctuated his grunted words, and shoe thumps pounded against the hard ground. “And Cerulean? You know—how he—feels—about humanity.”

Sterling stepped to the very edge of the balcony, his eyes following the sinking glow. “I’m afraid I do. So like his father. But not like his son. I’ve sent Viridian over, just in case.

Roux reentered the room dressed in jeans, a sweater, and a pair of tan loafers on the wrong feet. He frowned at Sterling. “To take his place?”

Sterling shrugged, stared at the shoes, and then returned his gaze to the horizon line. “We’ll see. Time is running out. Do your job, and we might just survive.”

April

Their Place in the Universe

Bright sunlight flooded the bedroom, casting a glow around Anne, the center of Cerulean’s universe. Unaware of being observed, Anne stared at the white rectangular stick in her right hand. Her left hand moved to her middle as her eyes widened. Her lips trembled. “Damn!” Taking one last look at the stick, she blinked back tears.

Her disappointment surprised Cerulean; she had never given any indication that she wanted children. The last time he had visited, she had made it quite clear that she never wanted children. She had been seventeen then; she was twenty-seven now. Things had obviously changed.

Dropping the testing stick into the trashcan, Anne flushed the toilet, her face pale and pinched. She stepped into her bedroom.

Peering through the open doorway, Cerulean contemplated the wedding photo on the dresser. Had her husband wanted children? Ten years ago, Anne had wanted nothing more than to concentrate on a career and travel. Framed teacher certificates, graduation photos, and vacation pictures now lined the walls. Cerulean had no doubt in his mind; Anne may be established, but she was not happy.

“Stupid!” Anne pulled on her blouse and adjusted her skirt, “Dang it, why doesn’t this skirt ever hang right?” Tugging at the waistband, she adjusted her clothes and then glared at the mirror. She turned sideways, smoothed her hand down her slim figure, eyed her 5’ 6” frame, and then patted a few stray hairs back into place. Her weight was good; her brown eyes were steady, her skin clear and tanned. Wiping away the last vestige of a tear, she pinched her cheeks to add color. Her chestnut hair hung down her back in a thick braid.

Cerulean evaluated the grown woman before him. There was nothing extraordinary about her, but then there was nothing to object to either. To his surprise, Cerulean felt a sensation run through his being, a sensation he thought had died with his wife. When Anne’s brows furrowed as she silently surveyed the room, Cerulean dimmed his exuberance. Could she feel his presence?

Anne looked at the closed door and then the window. The view went on for miles with no interruption in sight. Only the birds flying by could see anything. If they tried. Which they wouldn’t. “Stupid birds!” Anne hurried into her stockings and bundled her nightclothes onto the bed. “Later.”

Cerulean’s gaze shifted as Anne’s husband, Philip, walked into the room. The lawyer tapped his expensive watch. “Do you know what time it is? You’ll be late.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Anne scowled. “Don’t remind me, Philip. I’m never late, and I don’t want to start a rumor that I’ve died or something.” Anne wiggled her foot into her shoe and shook her head. “Fifth grade is precarious enough without giving them that anxiety.”

Slender with sandy blond hair and deep blue eyes, Philip moved across the room in fluid, confident steps. “Anything wrong? You seem a little tense. I could—” His hands opened in a beckoning motion.

Anne stared, daring him to say one more word.

Philip’s hands dropped to his side as he shut his mouth.

Anne waved her finger. “You better stop. I’m in no mood. Now grab me that sweater, and I’ll be out of here.”

Surveying the assortment of skirts, sweaters, and various apparel draped across a chair, Philip gestured. “Which one, the black or the blue?”

“Give me the black one. I feel like I’ve been to a funeral.”

After handing her the sweater, Philip ignored the earlier warning and reached out, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently massaging them. “You going to be okay?”

Anne stiffened as she blinked back new tears. “No, but that doesn’t matter. I’m an idiot. I should have my head examined. Or my heart.” With an unrelenting shrug, Anne moved past her husband. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go.” She rushed through the door.

Philip shook his head as he watched her disappear, her shoes clicking down the steps. A moment later the front door slammed. Walking over to the dresser, Philip swiped up his car keys. He started to whistle and then stopped. The sound of water running caught his ear. Stepping into the bathroom, his gaze fell on the towels lying askew. He frowned.

After jiggling the toilet handle, he snatched up a piece of paper from the floor and bent over to throw it in the garbage. The testing kit caught his eye. He lifted it, examined its single pink line and, with another shake of his head, dropped it into the trashcan. While examining his reflection in the mirror, Philip adjusted his tie with a slight nod of approval to his well-tailored suit. Running his fingers through his hair, he appraised his chin where he had nicked himself earlier. After a final adjustment of his suit coat, he left the room. His footfalls made hollow thumps as he sped down the steps. In a moment, the front door slammed a second time.

***

A brief flash of light illuminated the bedroom as Cerulean appeared with his son at his side. Dressed in jeans and a brown leather jacket, Cerulean had assumed the look of a muscular, middle-aged man. A few streaks of gray in his dark hair and a couple days’ growth of beard gave him a casual but dignified look. His somber, brown eyes bore testimony to a spirit, which had experienced more than words could say. His gaze rolled over his son. “Observe, Viridian: humans have the capacity to lie, even to themselves. We are not allowed that luxury.”

A flash of anxiety filled the youth’s eyes. His bulky figure with brown hair, brown eyes, and tan skin stood hunched in dejection.

Flicking a lock of his son’s hair back into place and examining his human form, Cerulean changed the subject. “I like it. The look suits you. It took me a long time to get used to a human body, but now the transition is easy. I like the sensation: limiting yet strangely safe. I understand them better this way.”

The lock of hair slid back into Viridian’s eyes. “I hate it. Humans don’t admire fat boys. I’m as ordinary as a rock.”

Cerulean nodded. “Exactly. You’re an uninteresting, teenage boy, a boy who will excite no comment and attract no attention. Besides, I like your coloring: variations on a simple theme, so different from our natural state. Light captures every color, but humans, they make do with less. They can find great beauty in mere shades. And you’re not unattractive—plump maybe, but not overweight. In any case, I know what you really look like. Humans would be overwhelmed. As it is now, you won’t excite much interest.”

“Interest? I’m repulsive.” Viridian paced across the room. “Humans will avoid me like one of their plagues! And besides that, I can hardly move. How do they see anything? It’s like being underwater. Everything is so distorted and blurred.”

“You’ll get used to it. True observation is more than seeing with the eyes. Besides, if we are to observe, we must be able to interact, at least sometimes. And we can’t interact well if we don’t at least appear human. Though there are guardians who like to take animal or plant form.” An image of a rodent-guardian he once knew came to mind. Cerulean stifled a shiver. “I don’t enjoy that so much.”

Hunching his shoulders, Viridian stuffed his hands in his pockets. “But what if something happens—something unexpected? What if someone attacks us? Or there’s a storm and the house falls on us, or one of their insane vehicles crash into us? What then?”

“We get out of the way if possible, but if necessary, we die and come back later.”

“Humans will want to know who we are, who our bodies are anyway.”

“Humans face conundrums all the time. Eventually, they just close the file.” Cerulean’s brows furrowed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were frightened.”

“I am not frightened!” Viridian scowled. “I just don’t like it here. Sorry if this offends you, but humans are pitiful. They’re not like us at all.”

Taking a few steps away, Cerulean folded his arms over his chest. “You’re not here to do a comparative study, just learn your place. You’ll be a guardian when your time comes, and you must be willing to see everything but not judge. Judging is for others.”

Cerulean gazed out the window. His son would have to learn, as he had learned after long years of service. How long ago? It had been centuries. He had followed in his father’s footsteps, as he did his, a long tradition that wound back seven thousand years, for as long as Luxonians had been observing this race. Before that time…. Well, there hadn’t been much to see.

Viridian surveyed the silent room. “So why here? Why this one? What’s so special about her?”

With a deep sigh, Cerulean marched into the bathroom. “It’s an odd thing about humans. They’re surprising. I once heard a well-known, human author declare that no one cares about the man on the bus or the woman in the grocery store. But he was wrong. That’s where I first noticed Anne—in the grocery store. She was with her mother, and though she was only seven, she actually helped. Unlike most children, she knew how to keep to the designated list. Her mother was ill, a frightened woman, terribly frightened. Margaret—that was her name—she saw danger everywhere. She once told Anne that when they drove up a hill, the other side might not be there. Anne learned to cope with fear early on. I could see her strength—even then.”

Stepping over to the trashcan, Viridian pointed inside. “She was afraid today. She was afraid when she thought that she might be pregnant.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. You must be more careful. Don’t leap to conclusions. You must not only look at the actions but the motivations.” Cerulean’s eyes darted to the wedding picture on the wall as he moved back into the bedroom. “Why did Anne act as she did? She was not frightened that she might be pregnant; she was frightened when she realized that she wanted to be pregnant. And well she might be.”

Viridian sneered, one eyebrow rising. “Why?”

Pursing his lips, Cerulean strode to the window. A sharp pang of disappointment disturbed his usual equilibrium. With forced detachment, he pointed at the sky. “We can come and go. We know there are more worlds than our own. We’ve been observing various races from time out of mind. But she,” Cerulean turned back to the picture of Anne and Philip on the dresser, “she knows nothing about us, or our kind, or that the human race is not alone. She both fears and craves intimacy, the kind of intimacy motherhood would demand. Humans are often blinded by fear. I have observed for a full year every decade. This is the third time I’ve met Anne, but I never know when it will be the last.”

Viridian bit his lip.

Cerulean patted his son on the shoulder as a brief flicker of hope welled up inside. “It’s time to go. Anne will be at school, and our job is to observe. Let’s see what she’s up to now.” He started forward, but his son stood silent, unmoving. Cerulean heaved a heavy sigh and stopped. “What?”

“How long will we watch them? I mean; will I have to do this my whole life?”

Cerulean tried not to let the question hurt too much. “I don’t know. The human race won’t last forever.”

Gazing up at the sky, Viridian stepped to the window. “Is it a punishment? Their not lasting very long?”

A cloud covered the sun, plunging the room into shadows. “Remember, we don’t judge. We observe. Funny, though. Humans believe their end will come with fire and storm, war and pestilence. But not necessarily. Their end might come slowly, quietly, like a sunset with no sunrise.”

Viridian sucked in his breath and glared at his father. “Should we warn them? What’s the point of observing them if they’re just going to die anyway?”

“That’s not for us to decide. We observe to learn. Eventually, humans will understand their place in the universe, and we’ll watch until they do.”

With one last look around the silent room, Cerulean raised his hand in command. “Let’s go.” He stepped forward.

Viridian hesitated an instant.

With a brief flicker of intense light, they both disappeared.

***

Books by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind

A.K. Frailey Author Page

Historical Fiction Novels

ARAM http://amzn.to/2lTHVXR

Ishtar’s Redemption http://amzn.to/2kHKLtN

Neb the Great http://amzn.to/2kS1Ylm

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage http://amzn.to/2lscPWg

Georgios II—A Chosen People http://amzn.to/2lTK0mu

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings  http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Short story: Mirage-Reborn

Worldbuilding…Mirage-Reborn

Like an artery, Main Street pumped life into the small town and the surrounding farms. A red, brick building sat at a jaunty angle on the southwest corner of the four-way stop. Raised letters spelled out its inception: Mirage-Reborn Savings and Loan—Year One. The double, front doors swung inward on well-oiled hinges into an interior meant to inspire confidence. A steel, reinforced vault behind the main counter gleamed in assurance, practically winking at you from the glinting rays of light spilling through tall, rectangular windows.

Directly across the street on the south side, a forest-green, wooden, two-story structure boasted fancy lettering: Nelson’s Grocery—Your One-Stop-Shop. Nelson’s stocked everything from fresh fruits and vegetables to floral prints for your next dressmaking project. Though old man Nelson insisted that his daughter, Grace, stock more variety, it was already almost more than she could manage. Two other Main Street stores filled in the culinary gaps—Bud’s Butcher and a Fresh-from-the-Farm Dairy & Bakery outlet.

A filling station and a post office occupied the other two street corners, while the Sheriff’s Office halfway down the block, ensured the current population that not only was your money safe—you were too. Or you would be soon, once Abbas introduced their new sheriff at the Town Hall meeting.

Abbas, in his ancient wisdom, had cultivated changes in Mirage slowly. It had only been in the last year that he began referring to their world as Mirage-Reborn. Clearly, the population realized that something was afoot when he replaced their medieval styled hovels with sturdier, comfier, ranch-style houses. Like a proud papa, he took each citizen—and their assembled relatives—to their new abode and showed them a thousand Oldearth years worth of improvements in an hour. It was an accomplishment worthy of a god. The changes were accepted as divine ordinances—and darn nice ones too.

The Town Hall crowd jostled each other in friendly intimacy; after all, these people had lived together through enormous life changes. They gathered in expectation, chatting about the weather, crops, and the usual challenges of life, studiously avoiding any emphasis on the fact that their world had morphed from an Oldearth medieval village into a mid-twentieth century, American town. Would wonders never cease?

Omega had transported each of them—or their parents—to Mirage decades ago in response to a particular need. After the demise of Oldearth, Luxonians had been humanity’s only hope, but occasionally, humans did not conform well to life on planet Lux. The adventurous ones struck out on their own and settled on outposts. Sometimes successfully. Sometimes disastrously. When Omega learned of a human in extreme need, he would swoop in, and, like a hero of old, save the innocent—and not so innocent—from certain destruction. Each new arrival’s adjustment to medieval Oldearth society put everyone on equal footing.

After Omega’s mother died, he, too, disappeared, so Abbas took up the mantle and played the combined roles of demi-god and sheriff-in-residence. Most inhabitants accepted these changes with a shrug of laconic indifference. There was nothing written in stone saying you couldn’t jump a millennium or two every now and again.

Since his wife had died and Omega had left, Abbas busied himself with the town. He liked to appear suddenly, surprising the marketing crowd or lend a hand at a barn raising. He never appeared out of humor or out of breath, and he was welcomed everywhere he went.

As the crowd gathered in happy chatter, Abbas suddenly appeared in the front of the hall with two men, one on either side. On his left, a blond, slim man with striking blue eyes squared his shoulders and crossed his arms as he appeared to appraise the crowd in a critical, sweeping glance. A thicker and heavier, dark headed man on the right merely stood with his muscled arms at his side, gazing ahead like a crime suspect in a lineup.

Abbas raised his arms, and the room fell silent. “My friends, I bring you two new citizens of Mirage-Reborn. I know you will welcome them as I have welcomed you in times past.” He waved to his left. “Mr. Jeremy Quinn has served many, faithful years as a Bothmal guard, but now he has agreed to serve as our Sheriff and Director of Criminal Justice.”

Murmurs from the crowd stirred the air at the word Bothmal.

“Did he say Bothmal? As in the Inter-alien-prison?”

“Hellhole, I was told. No good can ever come of that place.”

Quinn’s eyes scoured the assembly, stopping at dissatisfied frowns and hovering over fear-filled eyes.

Abbas waved the murmurs away, nodded to his right, and his tight smile softened. “And here, I have brought you a treasure in Lucius Pollex, a man of renowned physical strength and the best blacksmith this side of the Divide. In him, you will discover both a hard worker and a faithful friend.”

Relief warred with anxiety in the crowd’s eyes as they shifted from Quinn to Pollex and back to Quinn.

“I have arranged a simple repast, so join me with our new friends at the cafe, and let’s get to know each other better.”

Abbas opened his arms as if in benediction, and the crowd parted with respectful nods and clasped hands. Like a wave washing over the shore, the entire population turned and followed their leader through the door.

Only Vera Webb, a petite, black-haired woman with high cheekbones, piercing black eyes, and ridges along her neck stood to the side and saw the exchange between the newcomers.

Lucius Pollex merely nodded with a hint of a warning in his eyes, but Quinn poured the malice of eons into his gaze as he glared at the blacksmith.

Vera shivered.

~~~

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Historical Fiction

ARAM http://amzn.to/2lTHVXR

Ishtar’s Redemption http://amzn.to/2kHKLtN

Neb the Great http://amzn.to/2kS1Ylm

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage http://amzn.to/2lscPWg

Georgios II—A Chosen People http://amzn.to/2lTK0mu

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00

Short Story: Mirage

How many years had they been married? Abbas sighed. He couldn’t remember. His wife had always taken care of the details—anniversaries, birthdays, and celebrations of all kinds. He had always been too busy. Mirage rather than marriage demanded his unfailing obsession.

The town folk bowed their heads and shuffled their feet in shy obeisance as the funeral procession marched passed. His son, Omega, strode at the front helping to bear the slight weight of the petite coffin. The shoemaker, furrier, carpenter and other inhabitants marched in a stately manner to the Resting Field.

Flowers bloomed in glorious array; Abbas had made sure of that. Color splashed against the horizon from simple white daisies to blood-red roses. Though there had been a murmuring among the children at the sight of spring blooms in the middle of winter, their parents had sense enough to hush the little ones and remind them that Abbas could do what other mortals could not. He was their father, after all. And today they must bury their mother.

~~~

After the intoned words of blessing upon her spirit, which everyone trusted to the outer limits of their imaginations, a wailing chant set them into mournful retreat. Abbas stood alone by the stone slab engraved with her name: Mother. It was her vocation and her title. Even Abbas called her Mother in the intimacy of their chamber. She was, above all things, a giver of life and love.

Omega stepped to his father’s side, and the two stared in silence at the grave. A red bird burst from the woods and soared into the noon sunshine. Omega lifted his tear-stained eyes and gazed in wonder. “I imagine she flew to her rest—as happy to go as to stay. She was always a cheerful being.”

Abbas glanced at his son. “We grieve, nonetheless.”

Omega nodded. “Yes, but perhaps we should do more. We ought to bear testimony to her spirit somehow.”

Abbas shrugged and turned, his body hunched and his gaze blank. “I bore little testimony to her while she lived. I hardly—”

Omega grasped his father’s long, flowing sleeve and halted him in his tracks. “But that’s not true. You adored her. You fulfilled her every wish.” Omega threw back his head and closed his eyes to the burning sun. “It was I who tore her heart, always racing about the universe, chasing every passing fantasy, leaving her to hug vaporous memories of my childhood and those who passed beyond.”

Abbas placed a warm hand on his son’s shoulder. “You were her passion. I loved her, but Mirage and world-making were my chosen professions. It seems we three, despite our mighty powers, have been little more than star-crossed lovers.”

A large, muscled man with thick, brown hair dressed in a jerkin worn over a black, cotton tunic strode forward and bowed with a hand clasped over his heart. “My lord, the townsfolk have set the repast in the main hall and await your arrival.”

Abbas nodded in dignified acceptance, and the man turned to his next duty.

Omega stroked his chin with the glimmer of a smile. “Father, I have a magnificent idea! Mother enjoyed my stories of Newearth and—”

“One village is enough, son.” Abbas marched at a quicker pace toward the lofty castle on the hill. His boots left no print on the rocky road.

Omega squared his shoulders as a light flared in his eyes. He hustled alongside. “She thought that the universe would be much improved if there were more places like Newearth—”

Abbas stopped suddenly. “You want to introduce other species—here? Do you realize what that would entail? The shifting of populations and the destruction of their native culture!”

Omega laughed. “But it would be a challenge. Medieval Oldearth has its limitations—as well you know. We could remake it, completely fresh, in a new century with a variety of life forms. Mother enjoyed a scene I once brought of a small farming town with a vibrant population—”

Abbas waved his hand toward the little village nestled against the hill. “And what would you do with this population? Mirage is the only world most of them have ever known.”

Omega strode to the gate where an elderly woman in a long, homespun dress curtseyed in formal recognition of her Master. He clasped her wrinkled hand and gazed into her eyes. “Martha, dear, what would you say if I wanted to bring new life into this old, barren village? Would you support me?”

The old woman gazed back with devotion. “We would do anything you ask, for you are our Lord. You can do no wrong.”

Omega hugged her frail shoulders and led Martha toward the open door and the lighted hall filled with tables loaded with food. “You do me great honor, my friend. And I’m sure it would please Mother. We must honor her memory with a new direction, a new life.” Omega charged ahead, leaving his father on the threshold.

Abbas lifted his eyes to the sparkling, blue sky and shrugged. “He is your son as well as mine. What would you have me do?”

~~~

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Historical Fiction

ARAM http://amzn.to/2lTHVXR

Ishtar’s Redemption http://amzn.to/2kHKLtN

Neb the Great http://amzn.to/2kS1Ylm

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage http://amzn.to/2lscPWg

Georgios II—A Chosen People http://amzn.to/2lTK0mu

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00