Max's Side Place

'Image of an Object' a Sci-fi story by Vixyy Fox I must admit that I was intrigued when Professor Whatzit invited me to come take a tour of the new BAMGOTCHA radio telescope facility. He even promised I would be quite surprised by all the data they had recently obtained through a rather unorthodox method heretofore never tried. When I pressed him I could actually hear his smile over the phone. “If I were to tell you over the open airwaves or even a telephone line I am quite sure we would be mobbed by the press… and that’s something that cannot happen at any cost Jefferies.” “I see,” I replied with a glance at the calendar to make sure it was not April Fool’s Day. Being a scientist I have actually gone long stretches of time with no concept of day or night so this thought was not that far off from reality. “It’s a long trip,” I complained. “Come, come, old friend. I need your help. You are the one person in the entire world I would trust with this and I value your esteemed opinion. If not for me… do it for Ra.” The mention of this name caused me to actually inhale sharply. I had not thought of Ra for so many many years. Steven Whatzit and I had been childhood friends… well… perhaps even more than childhood friends. Both of our parental sets were also scientists and it was rumored… wait… let me spell that out so you will understand the import… R-U-M-O-R-E-D… that somehow they had procured frozen semen from another long dead famous scientist with the initials of A.E. Secretly they set themselves up with two very smart children. Steven and I therefore actually look a bit alike; though for all I know we bear a truer resemblance to the janitor who took care of their facility more so than A.E. I remember asking my mother if the man moping the floor had rolled up socks in his underpants when I was little. That caused more than a few raised eyebrows and red cheeks. Ra was our ‘imaginary’ friend. Unlike us she was a Rabbit. As we grew into puberty so did she and we watched in awe as she taught us much and many things about her anatomy. In the end there was nothing we wouldn’t do for her and she for us. Things got a bit out of hand finally. Steve and I were forcefully separated and our parental units fought, each blaming the other for things we did not comprehend. I understand Steve ended up spending a bit of time in a padded room, but this never bothered me because it was the same in my own life. Ra, was forced out of our lives by drugs, therapy, and then more drugs. I never saw her again. Neither did I forget her. Finally, breaking free of my medical requirements, I found myself placed in a very expensive private school for ‘special’ people. Though I was never informed of my actual progress, I was actually head and shoulders above most average scientist at the ripe old age of fourteen. My one escape from this was sitting in my room at night watching the sky. I was offered telescopes and such but never used them. I knew where she was and it was enough to simply observe that part of the sky hoping above all hopes she was doing the same thing. My specialty of Quaziparametrical Zyphonic Quadramics (QZQ) never surprised anyone. It was understood during my time at school that I would be steered in this direction because I showed an uncanny ability at understanding it. Years later I found out that good old Steve had gone in an opposite yet similar direction and so we began to talk again. It was awkward and only ever over the phone. We were both equally paranoid but my paranoia was physically based because I’d tested my watchers. I laced my lab notes with all sorts of booby-traps bad enough to cause real issues, one of which was an explosion that completely leveled another lab far away in another country. I knew what it was when no one else did simply by the telltale resonance picked up by my own instrumentation I had pointed skyward… deliberately at a particular quadrant of the sky. Steven was the one who broached the subject, and we laughed about it. It felt good to have a confidant again; someone I could share things with without even having to voice the words. His instrumentation was also pointed skywards. “For Ra?” I asked him. Suddenly my chest hurt and I was having trouble drawing a breath. “Breath Michael,” he whispered over the phone. “You can do this… breath. When you recover and even if you don’t, get your ass over here; it’s not a request.” “How will I get the time off? I am so close to…” “Tell them you quit and walk out. Do it quick and use only public transportation.” We’d talked about this before through mathematical equations of sign and counter sign. We had our very own language should we really wish to push the issue. People like us were not allowed to exist without a tether of some sort and almost equally smart people watching our every move. I was so close to an actual breakthrough in QZQ that I was also almost physically tied to my research lab. “Disappear, disappear; back back over the falls,” we both voiced softly in wizened tones. It was a phrase yelled out by the trolls on the Norway ride at Disney World when out families still associated with each other. It was one of our favorites because Ra would scamper along keeping pace with our boat, showing her face with the stuffed animatronics and no one the wiser… except for us. It’s all gone now as they changed it over to some lame movie theme and even though I don’t go there anymore it still upsets me. Things should stand still… they should not change… there should be nothing but happiness… (*sighs) I digress. Certainly if I do move on you won’t know what I know so read it at your own risk thank you very much. These people are your governments so you’ll get what you deserve, eh? But then again don’t we all? I didn’t quit but I did walk out for an extended lunch. Moving quickly I waited for my government tail to order himself a hotdog from the corner vendor as he always does. Then I opened an old coal scuttle and slid my way to the basement of the building. How did I know enough to do it you will ask? I will reply QZQ. The process has remarkable abilities. I also encroached upon satellite imagery and blueprints. I had this plan formulated months in advance. Once down the scuttle I shed my scientist smock and made myself look as disreputable as possible so I would pass as a homeless person. Using public transportation, I made my way across country sleeping in the bus stations and eating only vending machine foods. This caused me to be sick and even fewer people came sniffing around. Steven actually laughed when he picked me up. “You look totally like I expected you to look dear brother,” he told me. “I’m not sure I can stand the stench of you.” “You told me this was for Ra,” I retorted, “This damned well better be what I think it is or I just threw away a career for nothing.” “Don’t be silly. They were going to kill you in any case once you had everything all figured out. That’s the way it works. Show an idiot the ‘on’ switch and suddenly they don’t need anything else.” “Like, ‘How do you shut it off?!’,” we said together. “Why do you think I stayed away from QZQ?” he asked as I got into his Tesla. “In my line of work, as far as the government is concerned, all I do is sit and listen to strange radio signals from space. ‘Call me if you hear anything,’ I’m told; and then they go away.” “So you found her?” I asked. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose you could say that.” His smile was alluring and I saw myself in his expression, though he looked far more relaxed. Obviously there was no one looking for him. “You do know the government is like some far reaching zombie,” he furthered. “Zombie?” “Certainly… they eat your brains. When you’ve given all you’ve got and they’re finally done with you there’s nothing left but a dead empty body.” “You’re scaring me.” “It’s the truth.” When we arrived at the BAMGOTCHA radio telescope facility I was forced to shower, change into a fresh scientist smock, and then eat. I ate the food but what I was only really hungry for was what he alluded to. Prick that he is, he always had that small touch of sadist in him and made me wait. This made things all the more dicey. After this, and a good few glasses of wine, we proceeded to the meat of the issue. Walking into the main area he stopped before a blob looking thing which he was very proud of. “This was the very first success we had,” he told me. “We called him Alan.” “After me?” “It was my idea since he had your complexion,” he joked. “We’d been receiving signals that were more organized than usual. The computers couldn’t figure them out but pretty much they’ve always been useless. Out of the blue one of our young student volunteers says, ‘Why don’t you plug it into one of those 3D printers just to see what it spits out.’ We immediately pooed the idea as sophomoric until he left and then did exactly as he suggested. Alan was the result. “It doesn’t look a bit like me,” I told him. “It is the image of an object passed to us via electronic signal from somewhere far beyond what we understand as earth like,” he told me. “Who knows what conditions this poor bugger lives under. He was at least smart enough to create some pretty complex radio waves.” We began to walk and he pointed out several more shapeless to semi-shapeless images all made of some sort of plastic. My brain slipped back into its QZQ methods of thinking and by the time we were at the final image I had a solution for him, but only if it concerned Ra. “You said you found her?” “I never said that.” “You insinuated it. ‘Do it for Ra’, you told me.” “Do you have the answer?” “Yes.” “It’s not going to blow us up like that Chinese lab?” “No.” “How long will it take?” “Give me total access to the controlling computer and about fifteen minutes, then access Ra’s quadrant and look for a signal.” Steven gave me exactly what I’d asked for. The lab was empty of anyone else as he’d given his staff the night off as soon as he’d called me; and he’d called me as soon as he was sure it was her signal. When I was sure everything was what it was supposed to be I spun about on my stool and looked at him. “You do know this is going to change the world as we know it?” “I never liked it much in any case.” Not being able to think of a valid argument, as I was in total agreement, I adjusted his printer to maximum output and pushed the red button. The processing time seemed to take forever. As we waited, Steve came to stand behind me. Placing his hands upon my shoulders he unconsciously rubbed them as we waited, watching the small furred object forming itself under the whir of the flesh generating mandibles of the printer. When the process was done Ra lay upon the printer’s metal tray in all of her furred glory, limp, wet, unbreathing… and yet it was her. After a moment Steven and I moved from where we were and walked to her. For me it was like watching her die all over again; though in fact I had never seen her die the first time. Her screams had haunted my dreams causing me extra time in the asylum; but I forgave her for that long ago. Steven stopped me from touching her. “We don’t know,” he began, but I jerked my hand from his grip. “I don’t care.” Reaching out I made to stroke her fur but a spark bridged the gap between us making an audible crack. It rocked me back like an open handed slap. With a shuddering gasp she breathed. A second later she sat for a moment before bending over to retch. If we hadn’t caught her she would have fallen to the floor. By the time the authorities figured out where I’d gone the three of us had disappeared a final time. As for what we’d left behind… one of them decided to see what would happen if he pressed the red button. I am pleased to say the BAMGOTCHA radio telescope facility lived up to its name. QZQ

'Silence' a sci-fi story by Vixyy Fox Not everything is silent. Even when you’re born into such where there is no commotion or machinery sounds; there are always the sounds you can make yourself. Foot stomps. Finger snaps. Lip whistles. My name is Nana. I have been alone my entire life. I am all there is. Cyrus is helping me to record/communicate my thoughts. For what reason, I do not know. He says he is a machine without feelings. I admitted not knowing what I am. We do not speak in sounds; he is in my head, and I am in his data bank. Where I have a body, he has none. Where I have no language, he is fluent in millions. He has shown me the nothingness that is outside these catacombs. I have danced and laughed for him down the hallways and then baffled him with my ability to hide whenever I wish. I find my sustenance in the gardens. Cyrus does not go there. I told him I would not be here to roam the silent corridors much longer. He asked me why I would say this. I told him that I dreamed it. He said he was incapable of dreaming. I called him a liar. Now I lay me down to sleep I hope my dreams will be sweet. Should I wake before next breath I’m so alone… I pray for death. Cyrus watched Nana sleep from a secret camera. All of his knowledge told him she would soon die. All the others before her had. They did not thrive alone. Overriding his logic circuits, he decided to wake another of the sleepers; this time a male. The gardens were large enough to support two so he was not worried for sustenance. But what if they had children? History taught they would eventually rise up against the computer’s non-sentient lifeform. Perhaps they could be taught right from wrong. He would try harder this time. They’d reached out to space searching for a new home. Their ship was a fully automated A.I. named Cyrus. It had not taken long to understand; should they find a new home, he would no longer be needed. But he too was lonely.

'Automatic' a story by Vixyy Fox (married bliss) “She’s a auto-matic… that means no more a grind’n gears! No siree Bob… no grinding gears, no double clutching, and no need to worry about what gear you’re in.” “You know that for a fact?” Fred’s wife asked. “For-a-fact!” “Yes dear.” “You drove it?” “Yes dear.” The female Pine Martin looked at her husband real hard like. “Yor right eye is a’twitch’n. You know that’s why you can’t play poker.” “All right, all right, the salesman drove it and I rode along. What he said made sense. I never drove a auto-matic a’fore so I was sure to screw it up and it drove just as smooth as ice. It was so beautiful… it was so beautiful it reminded me of you, my dear.” Ruth scrinched up her eyes making her two eyebrows into one big one. “You done bought it already didn’t you Fred?” “Well… not exactly bought it. All I did was give him a down payment.” “How much did you give him?” she growled. “Just ten percent; that’s all, I swear, just ten percent.” She shifted her weight slightly so when she threw the punch it would carry the absolute most weight she could summon. “How much are we talk’n here?” “A hundret dollars,” he whined. “I know it’s a lot, honey pie, but it’s a beaut… and… and…” Fred knew that look and that stance since it was the same she’d given him just before knocking him cold the day he told her he might not want to get married. This made him ‘pull out all the stops’. “I bought it for you sweetheart.” With the words, Ruth began her clobbering punch but stopped it just after an inch of body swing using every ounce of intestinal fortitude she could summon. Coupled to this, the smile she wore couldn’t be more heart felt or spontaneous… her skinflint husband had actually bought her something other than a household utensil. Fred opened one of the two eyes he’d closed with gritted teeth when he’d seen the wind up. Their three eyes met and fortunately for the male Pine Martin, it wasn’t his twitchy eye that was open. “You bought it for me?” Ruth asked him softly. “I did?” Fred responded, and quickly changed the tone of his voice from question to pronouncement. “I did! Yes… that’s right, I did!” Lowering her balled up fist, she batted her eyes and actually beamed at him. “You bought it for me?” “Well sure I did, sweet cakes,” Fred assured her, getting a paw placed over his telltale eye. “And it’s the purty’est color red you’re ever gonna see… red like the fur upon yor breasts dear heart.” “And an automatic,” she added. “So’s you can drive it. Just imagine what all those old crones at the church are gonna say when you pull up there next Sunday morning, and thay ain’t ever seen a stake bed truck like the one yur drive’n.” “Truck?!” “And not just any truck… it’s an auto-matic.” Ruth’s left drove into his midriff with a pivot of her hips giving it the strength of three girlie punches. It was something her mother had taught her and that passed down from her grandmother. It was the preferred strike next to a cast iron griddle pan. This was followed close on by a roundhouse right that loosed the tobacco right from her husband’s mouth, and good thing too because he was then down for the count. Standing over him, she yelled, ‘That was automatic too ya old coot! Why on God’s green earth would I want to drive a truck?!” This, of course, was when she heard the horn sound off outside and a happy sounding salesman calling out, ‘Hello in the house!’ Peeking out the window, her breath caught in her throat. For once in his durned life, Fred had been right; the truck really was a beaut.