Strange Sci-fi Tales - Recovery [#128]

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           “What a haul,” Jones hummed to himself. The engineer’s latest excursion to the derelict spaceship outside the station left him aglow with glee. He fancied himself a new form of archeologist, cracking into old data storage to find information that was for all intents and purposes lost. It didn’t matter if the information was useful or not, it merely tingled a part of his brain that enjoyed soaking in the obscure. Now he’d do the same to the hard drives he found tucked away in the wrecked spaceship.

           “Jones, what are you doing?” The supervisor, Trevor, peeked into the room.

           “Just storing some of the salvage from the derelict ship,” Jones explained.

           “Those look like hard drives Jones, not salvage,” Trevor glared.

           “There could be some important information on here,” Jones urged.

           “What’s the name of the ship?”

           “The Arrowhead.”

           “And why is it derelict?”

           “Engine failure, without a doubt.”

           “Then there’s nothing else to learn,” Trevor crossed his arms, “put that in a report and beam it home if you want to be thorough.”

           “But sir,” Jones tried to explain his case.

           “Can it Jones,” Trevor raised his voice. “If you’d actually bring back useful salvage sometimes, I wouldn’t be on your case, but all you do is horde these hard drives. You don’t even use them as extra file storage; you just read through them and archive them.”

           “It’s just a hobby,” Jones exclaimed.

           “A hobby is fine and good until it interferes with your work Jones,” Trevor countered. “You still haven’t repaired the bay doors like I asked you, and you need to clean that pigsty you call an office.”

           “Certainly, sir,” Jones grumbled.

           “Don’t let me catch you fiddling with those before you get your work done,” Trevor declared before he left.

           “Jackass,” Jones spat as he headed towards his office.

           As he opened the door gently and observed his workspace, he silently admitted that Trevor did have a point about his office. The room was a mess of computers, haphazardly placed wires, and a floor covered in miscellaneous parts.

           ‘I really should tidy up, but I can always deal with that later,’ Jones affirmed to himself.

           He sat down at his desk chair and liberally sprinkled his haul on the little available space on his desk. Jones considered picking up a tool chest and heading down to repair the bay doors, but he quickly decided against it.

           ‘Screw Trevor, he may act like he’s my boss, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to him,’ Jones mused. ‘Besides, he said, don’t let him catch me messing with the drives.’ Jones grinned to himself as he pawed through the drives.

           He pulled a cord from his computer, and one by one, he plugged it into the salvaged drives. Most of them were too damaged to function, but he managed to crack into a few. The first was empty, seemingly never used, to begin with. The second had some corrupt files and a few pictures of damaged equipment. But the last drive was surprisingly well preserved. Almost all of its data was still usable, although they were in some unknown file type.

           ‘Don’t got nothing that can run these on this computer,’ Jones realized, ‘but my main computer probably does.’ Jones gleefully unplugged the drive and switched it over to his main computer. ‘Even if my rig can’t figure it out, there’s got to be something stored in the mainframe that can tell me what can.’

           Jones loaded the drive into his main computer, the process was slow at first, but he smiled as it completed. Then his computer started popping up errors, and his heart sank. It didn’t take long for his experienced eyes to catch the telltale signs of a sneaky virus.

           ‘You got to be kidding me,’ Jones panicked, ‘Trevor will never let me live this down if he finds out.’ Jones did his best to stop the virus, but to his horror, it had already jumped around the station. If it were still on the other computer, this wouldn’t have been an issue. That spare computer wasn’t connected to anything else, but his main computer was. No wonder he didn’t notice the virus at first; it must only trigger if the device it was on had any connectivity to other systems.

           ‘I gotta fix this,’ Jones sprang up from his chair. ‘I’ll start yanking cords here to stop the source, then I’ll just reboot the whole station if I have to.’ Unfortunately for Jones, he wouldn’t even get that far. He tumbled over a network of wires that ran through the middle of his office. The engineer’s head slammed into the mess of metal parts on his floor. Jones felt dizzy as the world went dark.

           ‘Wait, that’s the station’s lights shutting down,’ Jones’s eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet, but he struggled to navigate through his messy office in the dark. His legs tripped over another cord, and the back of his head met the side of the desk. As a sharp pain jolted through his head, the engineer was sent into a deep slumber.

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Sometimes it pays to listen to your superiors and sometimes it pays to focus on your work first.

This is the first story in a loosely connected set of four that will be posted over this week and the next.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy

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Enigmatic Fantasies - The Price of Theft [#127]

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            He was a thief, one that hadn’t been caught yet, which in his mind made him the best kind of thief. The place he was after tonight would potentially be the most magnificent score of his life. It belonged to a rich, old lady, one so old she could barely move around on her own. From what he could gather, the old woman sat on almost a century’s worth of jewelry, all ripe for the taking. All he’d need to do was avoid a few caretakers.

            Sometime after midnight, hours after all the lights went out in the old lady’s modest home, the thief made his move. He slipped into her home through a second-floor window with a jump off a nearby tree. His feet trod lightly, even on the hardwood floor of the guest room he snuck into. The thief was well aware the caretakers would be receptive to certain noises, they had to be on top of the old woman’s care after all. However, a few creeks here and there in an old house like this would easily slip past their notice.

            Like a shadow in the night, he traveled through the halls without noise. He peeked through several rooms until he found one that contained a collection of jewelry. Temptations struck him to take as much as he could carry, but he decided he’d instead pilfer a few things that wouldn’t be missed first. Then he’d slowly move up from there. He thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the caretakers yet, as he began to snatch the valuables and secure them in a sack.

            He wondered to himself, how was this lady so rich in the first place? He’d done his research, but he never learned more than the fact the lady had lived for a very long time. He had assumed she was a widow, or maybe she had inherited the money. However, the longer he spent in the modest home, the less he believed that. It certainly was not squalid, but this creaky, old, wooden house would have only been impressive a century ago. Yet, she had an entire room filled with jewelry, so much, in fact, he felt he could steal a dozen jewelry cases from it and was sure no one would notice.

            The thief’s eyes were drawn to another piece of the collection, one which stood out amongst all the other jewelry cases. It was bright red and adorned with gold. The case itself looked worth a few hundred dollars on its own; thus, his curiosity got the better of him as he wondered what could be contained within. With great care, he opened the case to observe what riches laid inside, but instead of gold and pearls, he found a gnarled, boney hand. The severed hand reached out and strangled the thief, who restrained himself from letting out a pained cry.

            With all his strength, he yanked the skeletal hand from his throat and sprinted out of the room, his stolen goods still in hand. His careless steps let out a chorus of creaks and wines from the old wooden floor. The thief’s ears pricked up as he heard the telltale sound of someone awaken downstairs. The thief dashed for the guest room he entered from, but could not find the right door. No matter how many rooms the thief checked, he could not find the way he came from, he couldn’t even find a room with a window.

            Reality seemed to betray him as the creak of stairs ensured someone was coming up to investigate the noise. Without recourse, he dashed into the first room he could find and quietly shut the door behind him. He turned around to search for a closet to hide himself in, but he froze in place as he realized where he was. Somehow he was back in the jewelry room, in shock, he dropped his stolen goods. However, something had changed in the room, all the cases were open, and within each was another boney hand.

            The mass of hands reached out from their contained, held aloft by long cord-like arms. In unison, they reached out and grappled the thief. The criminal was dragged away from the door and strangled so tight he could not scream even if he wished it. As he was pulled towards the center of the room, he heard the door open. In the corner of his vision, he saw a figure stand in the doorway, likely one of the caretakers. The figure did not respond to the horrific sight before them, they merely shook their head and closed the door again. The thief’s heart sank as he felt the hands crush him in their grasp.

~--~

            The caretaker sighed as she closed the door tight and tried to ignore the rustling in the jewelry room. ‘Another thief had come for her valuables,’ she thought. ‘Maybe one day they’ll think twice about robbing some poor old woman.’ The caretaker shrugged her shoulders as she walked back down the halfway. There would be a mess to clean soon, but she could deal with that in the morning.

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Sometimes you don't know when you're in over your head until you start to drown.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy

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Strange Sci-fi Tales - Self-Made Secret [#126]

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            It didn’t make sense, it couldn’t possibly exist, yet it stood before him real as could be. In a dark corner of his lab, behind a secret door, he didn’t know existed, was a human-sized tube embedded in a wall. Within the container was a familiar face, his own face, his own body in a deep sleep. This duplicate, this clone, this identical being of unknown origin, had existed right under his nose for god knows how long.

            His first instinct was to destroy it, but he stopped himself from such a rash act. He had no memory of this portion of the lab, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t responsible for it. For all he knew, this was a prank crafted by himself one night when he was drunk. It wasn’t likely, but the chance was greater than zero.

            He would need to determine where it came from and when it was made. With that information in hand, this mystery would be solved, and he could move on with his life. His hands trembled as he searched through his lab for the right tools, but in his panic, he searched through all the wrong drawers. He couldn’t think straight, he could barely walk in a straight line anymore. He shook himself back to his senses with a slap to the face. As his wits came back about him, he realized he was elbow deep in a drawer full of scalpels, and he held one at the wrong end.

            A yelp of pain rang through the lab as the sharp implement fell from his hand. His impaired motor functions tripped him further as he bounced off the cabinet in his panic and pain. Suddenly he found himself on the cold lab floor, right on top of where the scalpel had fallen. He pulled back his arm to find a horrific sight, the edge of the tool speared right through his arm. The man sprang up from the adrenaline and ran for medical supplies, as he observed his wound closer, his heart sank to the floor.

            Mixed with the blood was something no human should expect to leak from their body, oil. Sparks flew from his arm as he saw the scalpel had pierced through a piece of circuitry, which sat right where his bones and veins should have. He wanted to throw up, but now he wondered if he even could. How long has this been the case, how long has he deceived himself?

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The worst kind of secret is one you keep from yourself.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy

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Enigmatic Fantasies - Camping The Mark [#125]

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            The Ranger adjusted their position slightly. The gnarled branches of the old tree they’d hidden in were less than comfortable, but they did their best to make do. The forest canopy was so tight that even now, in the middle of the day, the forest floor was dark. If it weren’t for the fact they’d long since adjusted to the lighting, the whole area would probably appear pitch black. However, even with their improved vision, the pack of black wolves they watched, seemed to blend in with each other. The only distinction being the eerie glow of their bright yellow eyes.

            “Not yet,” the mumbled to themselves, their real target had yet to appear. These wolves were a danger the brave few who still lived in this dark forest, however not nearly as much as they used to. Before they ran rampant through the woods, attacking travelers, farmers and merchants alike. The local guard struggled to cull the threat so they outsourced to any adventurer they could find, with the promise of a reward as an incentive. Within a few months, the wolf population was reduced to a manageable level. Rewards were still offered for slaying these black as night wolves, but with the population down the rewards were decreased in value. It wasn’t worth it to hunt the majority of them, except one, Blackfang.

            When the wolves were slain in mass, one pack leader rose among all the others, a giant wolf with a crooked black tooth. Just when it seemed the wolves would become a non-issue, Blackfang proved the troubles were far from over. The beast was cunning, and it preferred to lurk in every dark corner of the woods than ever risk appearing in the open. A grand reward was offered to any who could slay the beast. But, the potential prize was so grand most adventurers fought each other rather than the creature. However, the Ranger was ready and would not allow themselves to fall in such a trap.

            The Ranger had kept an ear out for other adventurers looking to bring the beast down. One such pair was on their way now, a couple of warriors who planned to cut down wolves until they drew Blackfang out of hiding. The Ranger knew the pair was unlikely to succeed, even if they drew the beast out, it’d just overwhelm them with greater numbers. However, the Ranger only needed them to draw the creature out. Once Blackfang was out in the open, they’d plant as many arrows as they could in the beast’s hide, and it’d crumble. With their numbers down and leader slain, the pack would disperse. The exhausted warriors wouldn’t be able to stop the Ranger from claiming the prize.

            “Here they come,” the Ranger smirked as the pair of warriors came over a nearby hill and waded into the pack of wolves. They drew first blood as their swords cleaved into the wolves’ flesh. The beasts struggled against the heavily armored men, their fangs unable to pierce the plated armor. The Ranger readied their bow, the Blackfang might arrive soon.

            The fight went on for half an hour, a half-dozen wolves had fallen, an equal number were severely wounded. The Ranger felt they had underestimated the warriors, at this rate they might kill Blackfang on their own. They wouldn’t have to wait long to find out, as right over another hill, the beast had come.

            Bathed in the darkness, its position betrayed only by a pair of bright yellow eyes, Blackfang stood atop a hill. The pitch-black beast was flanked by four equally dark wolves. The four were quite large specimens, big enough to give even the most confident hunter pause, yet Blackfang dwarfed them all. The wounded wolves moved to position themselves between the warriors and Blackfang’s group. The warriors stood ready, even as the quartet of wolves charged down the hill and leaped over their injured brethren.

            The fight was fierce, but the four giant wolves proved to be more than a match for the two warriors. However, Blackfang just stood and watched, even as the wounded wolves retreated into the brush. The Ranger took their chance, their bow was notched, and they let loose an arrow at the distracted beast. Their projectile landed true and embedded itself in the creature, but it barely flinched. The Ranger let loose several more arrows, but nothing seemed to harm the animal, some even bounced off its thick hide.

            At this point the warriors had been sent running, having only managed to kill one of the four wolves. The wolves howled at their victory but did not give chase. Blackfang’s eyes turned to face the Ranger, who felt their heart stop as the massive beast gave them its full attention. However, the wolf merely stared at them. Then it ripped one of the arrows out of its hide and spit it onto the ground. Eventually, the beast turned, pausing only to kick some dirt in the Ranger’s direction with its back paw, before it disappeared into the brush. The rest of the wolves followed suit. 

            The Ranger cursed under their breath, the beasts had won this day. They wondered to themselves if Blackfang had known they were there from the very beginning. Was this a display of strength? The beast was known to be clever, but the Ranger had not expected behavior like this. The Ranger wondered if they should just slink back to town, or make another stab at the beast.          

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You know what they say about best-laid-plans right?

(Most certainly not inspired by all the time I've sunk into Classic Wow, and all the sneaky jerk snatching quest objectives right out from under me.)

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy

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