Survivors - Part 1

    Blip. Blip. Blip.
    Assistant Director Cisneros stared absent-minded at the acrid liquid as it dripped, drop by drop, down into his mug. The local crony here, Dr. Patang, had tried to convince him that this was this was the best cup of joe on the Daedalus.
    While Cisneros didn’t doubt the good doctor’s honesty; the little brown-nosing tool was too self-interested to not give full disclosure. However he did doubt that the liquid shit dripping out of the archaic machine counted as coffee.
    And he damn sure knew it didn’t smell like it.
    Cisneros glanced around the room as he waited for the stinking drink to finish brewing.
    All around him, cheap furniture, bad walling, dirty carpet, or gunmetal plating. Here and there an uncomfortable chair sat or a half-assed painting hung on the wall; really retracting from the environment more than they gave. It gave him the feeling of being in a lower-end office that had been shoved into a metal box.
    And really, it wasn’t far from the truth.
    Built cheap and built big, the Daedalus was one of two floating laboratories utilized by the corporation’s Xenobiology department. It housed just over two thousand biologists, botanists, chemists, computer experts, robotics technicians, and god knows what else plus the staff and crew that kept the entire dump heap in the air. It wasn’t the fastest or nicest ship in the galaxy, but with her sister, the Icarus, the pair of ships were some of the biggest and probably some of the only used as mobile laboratories and processing cities.
    At least until a month ago.
    Now the Daedalus flew alone in its lazy orbit around the Kaprelli system’s deep violet sun surrounded by the silence of space.
    Cisneros reached down and plucked up the now full mug. He took a swig only to grimace at the sour flavor. It tasted just about as good as it had smelt and, based on the look of shock and horror on Dr. Patang's face, he was glad his distaste with the drink was not lost on the good doctor.
    "I'm so sorry, sir." he quickly shot out. "I swear, it really is the best on the ship. The company doesn't really consider fresh cups to be pri-"
    "Enough, Doctor." Cisneros said flatly. "You'll forgive me if I tell you that I'm not in the mood right now."
    "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Dr. Patang said as he adorned that same, placid, stupid smile he'd worn since Cisneros arrived eight hours ago.
    "I don't have a great deal of time." Cisneros continued in the same, no-bullshit tone. "So why don't we get this little tour started so I can get on with a very long list of other things that need to get done."
    "Of course, sir." Dr. Patang repeated again and motioned towards the door of the grimy little kitchen.
    The pair made their way through the halls of the Daedalus at a leisurely pace as Dr. Patang prattled on about meaningless inanities. Cisneros could not care less. His visit here was far from routine and he had no interest in listening to small talk.
    He wanted to hear about their findings.
    Of course, it was probably sheer confidentiality that was keeping Dr. Patang from prattling on about that. Still, Cisneros had a lean in his step and they made their way towards the C-Deck labs with more speed than any other visit would have been afforded.
    The mystery of Icarus's destruction the prior month had nagged at him since it happened. And now he might get some answers.
    Originally, it came as a complete shock. The ship had just performed a relatively routine stop to a newly discovered world known as 'Bruni'. The planet was mildly interesting for the fact it was, by all intents and purposes, considered a jungle planet despite its severe climate; prone both to blistering heat and destructive electrical storms.
    Within a matter of hours from the stop, an SOS had been issued from the Icarus.
    An hour after that, the ship was flown directly into a sun with a very small contingent of its population escaping in lifeboats.
    The incident had bothered Cisneros for the month since it had occurred. Now, with several of the life boats captured and brought aboard the Daedalus, his curiosity was peaked as to what the scientists had discovered.
    Most notably because there hadn't been any reported survivors so far.
    So whatever they had found clearly wasn't human. Or, at least, not living ones.
    Dr. Patang offered a single open eye to the scanner next to the C-Deck air locks while simultaneously holding a thumb to a reader and a badge to a scanner. C-Deck, like a number of the locations on the Daedalus, was high security and set up with multiple security points. Additionally, the labs were completely sealed off from the rest of the ship in what was, for lack of a better analogy, a steel box with a single airlock that led into the ship primary.
    This fact only added to Cisneros' surprise when the heavy lead and steel door slid aside to reveal four hardskinned marines standing at attention, rifles ready, standing in the four corners of the inner airlock.
    He glanced at Dr. Patang with an obvious look of surprise.
    "We have...concerns." the doctor said flatly, dropping the cheerful, tour-guide tone he'd been using since Cisneros arrived.
    Cisneros' eyes narrowed but he said nothing. As much of a brown-nosing little shit as Dr. Patang had been, the presence of marines suggested they had found something much more exciting than a few corpses in a lifeboat.
    The two men submitted to a thorough search and ID by one of the marines; a man who identified himself as Sergeant Holmes. They were then led to the next room: a hastily thrown together decontamination room that the inner airlock would have normally been used for had it not been filled with combat armor and firearms.
    Once deloused, they both made their way down a long hallway lined by observation chambers.
    "Now that we're out of ear shot, would you care to share what exactly your team found on the life boats, Doctor?"
    "We're not sure." he said, once again adopting that slight lit to his voice again, but not nearly to the degree he had been earlier.
    "You're not sure?" Cisneros echoed after rolling the possibilities about in his mind.
    "Whatever they are is biologic. But after that, it's unlike anything we've found before."
    Cisneros said nothing as he was led through a maze of corridors. He could see scientists working in labs on any number of different experiments; however Dr. Patang shot right by them.
    At the far end of one hall, the Doctor approached a heavy door labeled 'XL-322". Directly below it. "Restricted Personnel Only." and a keypad. The Doctor entered in an unseen code, scanned his badge again, and motioned for Cisneros to enter.
    They were standing in the viewing area of an operating theater with a door on the far end of the room. The glass was artificially dimmed and Cisneros suddenly had a fleeting sense of claustrophobia in the dark room.
    "This is all well and interesting, Doctor. But can we can on with the theatrics?"
    "Sorry, sir. As I said, sir. We're not sure what we found." Dr. Patang continued as he raised the lights and revealed the laboratory behind the triple-state glass and the monster within.
    Cisneros took an unconscious step back from the now clear glass.  
    What the hell WAS that?
    He felt his heart jump into his throat and, for the first in a very long time, he felt a sudden wash of fear fall over him.
    "But if you've got any ideas..." Dr. Patang said with the first snark the Assistant Director had heard from him, "We're all ears."

What's to Come?

Hello Lovelies,

First and foremost, let me throw out a belated 'Happy Father's Day'. I realized that I totally forgot to account for it this last Sunday and didn't schedule properly. Instead, I posted the final entry for 'Heat'. So, with that said, I hope everyone enjoyed their day with their dads or in memory thereof and sorry for my absent-mindedness.

Now, speaking of 'Heat'...

I'm glad that you all seemed to enjoy it. I believe that some of you already were told/realized this, but 'Heat' is actually intended to be part of a larger universe. More specifically, the same universe that my previous story 'Lost' was set in. I decided to explore just what the beasts were that Cecilia faced in her horrible exploration of that doomed ship. I fleshed them out in my mind and thought of a new scenario to introduce them outside of the writing-experiment that was 'Lost'.

The fun part? There's more to come.

It's no surprise to anyone that knows me that I'm a big fan of short stories. I like trying to make my stories punch hard and grab you by the shirt. Often, this is done in the vein of creature features, horror, or drama, and it lends itself to being problematic in making a single, arching story that people can hold on to. With that said, simply selling short stories or a compilation of short stories is always kind of so-so. Loosely knit together concepts aren't super interesting as a whole and short stories aren't economically worthwhile to readers.

So, I wanted to play with that idea.

Books like 'World War Z' and 'Bug Hunt' are actually tied together through short stories DESPITE being considered whole books. I might give this a swing with the 'Lost' universe. While I'll definitely need to think of a better name for the overarching tale, I feel like this is an interesting way to take a punch of different viewpoints and different short stories with different themes and tones and put it together into an interesting and comprehensive story.

Will it work? Who knows. Will it be fun to explore whatever these 'things' are? Definitely.

Thanks for joining us, Lovelies. We'll see you again soon.

- RB

Heat - Final

    Stalks of corn seemed to reach out to grab for George as he ran with all the strength in his body. Dry edges and broad leaves clawed at his arms and legs and threatened to trip him up and leave him in the monster's grasp.
    furRUMPfurRUMPFURRUMP!
    The sound of a runaway train galloped behind him as the thing pursued. His head start had only given him an extra matter of seconds. Now the beast closed in with terrifying speed.
    And the ground shook as it got closer.
    George's legs pumped furiously, but he knew it was worthless. The thing was too fast, but that was part of his very mediocre plan.
    Let it chase him.
    He reached out and grabbed a handful of stalks with his left hand. He could feel the corn tearing from the ground, but it gave him some of the leverage he needed. Pivoting and pulling, he yanked his entire body hard and spun. He hit the ground hard and rolled out of the beast's path as it barreled by far too fast to grab him.
    Its scythe claws swung worthlessly over his head.
    Cradling his broken right hand, he pushed himself out of the debris and took off running again. This time at a 90 degree angle away from the thing's path as it slid and skidded through the corn field, trying ineffectively to slow down.
    Another extra few seconds.
    Another sprint as hard as he could.
    His lungs burned. His body ached. He was bleeding from at least a couple of scrapes and cuts on his arms and face. But it didn't matter.
    He had to keep it distracted.
    And maybe, just maybe, get away.
    furRUMPfurRUMPFURRUMP!
    The sound came up from behind and to his right.
    George dove forward, landing belly up on the stalks that scratched his skin, jabbed him in more places than he could count, and knocked the wind out of him.
    And once again, the beast flew past him, a force of destruction fueled by tremendous weight and speed; taking an entire swath out of the field as it did.
    It slowed, faster this time, but still not fast enough.
    Barely able to breathe, and his limbs violently shaking, he took off running again at another sharp, contradictory angle.
    In the haze of exhaustion and panic, he heard something. A wooshing sound of some kind from the sky. It didn't mean anything to his numbed mind, but it registered for some reason.
    It was something important.
    But not important enough.
    His breath was ragged now. He was coughing and gagging more than he was breathing now. He was strong and had endurance, but he wasn't a track star and the sheer terror and effort was having an effect on his untrained body.
    George's feet stumbled and gave out beneath him.
    furrumpfurrumpfurruMP
    He could hear it coming.
    Hell, he could feel it coming.
    furRUMPfurRUMPFURRUMP!
    Reaching down with his uninjured hand, he pushed off on the dry dirt hard and rolled to the side.
    A massive foot slammed down an inch away from his head as the thing failed to catch him yet again and went crashing by.
    George went to pull himself up again and found himself barely able to do so.
    The thing was already turning by the time he was able to stand.
    Still, he tried to run. And quickly realized he could barely walk.
    Another wooshing sound; this one louder with a loud hiss. It came from the field behind him where the ship had been found. Another monster perhaps? What the hell was that sound?
    It didn't matter.
    He kept going. Half jogging, half stumbling, towards the edge of his field. He couldn't keep going and some part of him told him to get to the edge of the field.
    He just had to get to the edge of the field.
    "Lel-!" he tried to yell for his wife, only to his voice disappear; hitching in his chest and cut off by a coughing fit.
    She had to get away, wherever she was.
    Only then, George realized he could see her.
    Lelena was there, just outside of the field. She was dirty but otherwise unharmed. And she looked like she was yelling at someone and pointing at the field with the barrel of her revolver.
    Who was she yelling at? he absently wondered.
    furRUMPfurRUMPFURRUMP!
    Unconsciously, George dove forward. He hit the ground hard and, for the second time, felt his breath escape him.
    Only too late, in the haze, he forgot to roll out of the way.
    He tried to push himself to the side, but too slowly this time.
    His right arm was destroyed under the weight of one of the beast's clawed feet and thrown into the air as the thing galloped past once again and back out into the open.
    Back where Lelena was.
    But George couldn't think. He couldn't feel. His mind was alight in the fire of agony from having his arm torn off and he was screaming.
    He couldn't hear his wife yelling at the marshals and their marine contingent. He couldn't hear the thunderous echo of pulse and gauss rifles that punched through the monster's hard carpace. He didn't feel the thing's spray of vile blood or the thud as the beast fell to the ground; poisoning the very dirt it lay upon.
    He didn't even remember the face of Lelena and the marine medic by her side hovering over him or his trip to medical facility nearby.
    All he remembered was the pain.
    And, lingering up from the depths of his belly, an odd sensation that his body felt entirely too hot.

Heat - Part 4

    The thing chittered excitedly as it moved with heavy thuds away from George and over towards where he believed his wife was hidden. He felt his gut twist and he wanted desperately to do something to keep it away from her.
    She'd already shot it and it didn't seem to do more than piss it off. What was she thinking?
    That she wanted it to get away from you. Just like you want it to get away from her.
    He mentally cursed himself. He cursed his wife. He cursed whatever the fuck that thing was.
    chunkssshhrrrr
    George heard something. It reminded him immediately of a hoe being dragged through dirt and leaves. He listened for a few moments, trying to understand what it was before he decided to risk it.
    As carefully as possible, he tried to move some of the stalks so he could look in the direction of the sound and his wife. Every creak and crack of the fallen corn made his heart jump into his throat but the monster never seemed to notice.
    He managed to clear a tiny seam to look through.
    The beast, with its large, scythe-tipped limbs, was clawing through the corn. The 'hoe' thought seemed appropriate as it was punching the blades into the ground and dragging them backwards through the debris as it searched.
    Luckily, it didn't seem to have found Lelena yet.
    Instead it was aimlessly clawing at several large piles of corn. It hissed under its breath, sounding almost annoyed as it did. Any number of the piles could contain his wife and any second he could hear her scream out in pain and...
    He shook his head.
    He had to do something.
    But what?
    Lelena had said that the marshals were coming, but god knows when they would actually show up.
    Would they think this was a priority?
    It didn't matter. He had to help her before it found her.
    A thousand scenarios ran through his mind and none of them really ended well. This thing was huge, fast, and could probably tear him in two without a second thought.
    But Lelena was in trouble.
    Through the crack in the corn, he glanced back towards the house and up towards where the ship had crashed.
    The inferno had cleared and there were still the massive clouds of smoke. Maybe he could try to lose it in the smoke? It hadn't really shown any indication of being bothered by it, but he wasn't paying attention either.
    Still, the only thing over there other then the crashed ship was open fields. This thing moved like a freight train and hit like one too. Caught out in the open, he'd be dead in an instant.
    The beast chortled angrily and stabbed its claws into another downed pile of corn. George winced at the sight but nothing came of it.
    The house?
    He could make out the great wooden building just over the edge of the corn. It was sturdy and well built to survive the planet's severe winter storms. Everything on Shone III was. If he could make it to the house, maybe it would be enough to barricade inside. Maybe it wasn't strong enough to get in.
    Maybe.
    His kids were likely in there. Did he risk their lives on this hunch? And that would leave Lelena locked outside with that thing. Trapped in the field and...
    The field.
    He watched the monster as it clawed angrily through yet another lump of corn. There wasn't much left to search, which meant it would find his wife soon.
    But it hadn't found her.
    Whatever senses this beast had, at the very least, it seemed to hunt primarily by sight. It was big and strong and mean, but it hadn't tried to sniff her out or anything of the sort. Maybe it was just taking its time. Or maybe the insane plan he had just thought of would work.
    God, if you're listening, don't let Lelena follow me. Let her and the kids get out of here and let the marshals smoke this thing. And, if you got the time, keep this thing off my ass while you do. Nothing personal, just don't care to join you yet.
    George glanced up at the thing.
    There was only a single pile of fallen debris left.
    Lelena would be in it.
    Fuck it. Amen.
    Exploding from his hiding place, he crossed the couple of yards in an instant and did the first thing that came to mind to get its attention.
    He socked the thing in the back of the head.
    It screeched in anger and surprise while, simultaneously, he felt the bones in his hand splinter into a hundred pieces. Its screams were joined by his own as he howled in pain from the sound breaking of every bone in fist.
    But, rather than be paralyzed by the agony of having just punched what felt like a plastisteel door, his howls turned from ones of pain to ones of fury and George took off running. Not towards the house or towards the smoldering ship, but deeper into the field. Where everything was thick and mazelike and he might lose the beast in the endless rows.
    He ran as fast as he ever had in his life.
    And the thing followed.

Heat - Part 3

    The thing, shoved carefully into the back of the spacecraft, began to chitter softly as it pulled itself forward from the back of the cabin.
    "George?" Lelena called again before coughing against the smoke and heat.
    She was far enough away that she could barely make him out through the billowing smoke. With the flames extinguished, the clouds dominated the area, choking and blinding them both.
    But George didn't notice. His attention was in front of him.
    Sharp, sickle-like blades, tipping the edges of long, gangly limbs hooked themselves around the exterior door. They dug into the metal with ease. The beast pulled itself forward with a sticky, sliding sound and a soft, chittering hiss.
    "There you are!" Lelena shouted, squinting through the smoke. "I've called the marshals and told them what happened. They're on their way here!"
    George glanced at his wife for just the briefest of seconds and then back at the horror unfolding from the ship's entrance. He didn't dare tear his eyes away from the monstrosity for a moment more.
    And Lelena noticed it.
    "Honey?" she asked.
    Aside from the scythe-like arms, it walked on four legs; giving George the impression of a twisted centaur. Powerful jaws opened and closed behind slime covered teeth that were hidden under deadly, fanged mandibles. A long, lashing tail smashed against the inside of the craft and further mutilated the soldiers' bodies inside.
    And those eyes.
    Deep and cavernous, like staring into pits. They glew softly in the black smoke, only drawing more attention to their soulless gaze. A foreign, terrible intelligence glinted at the edges of their ebony pools.
    hiiiiiiissssaaragragragRAGRAGRAG
    The creature seemed almost to laugh as it unfolded itself just outside of the craft's door. It was as tall as the ship, a good ten feet. George couldn't help but wonder how the beast had fit into the cramped space, much less with a half dozen armored soldiers.
    BBOOMIARNG!
    The gunshot ricocheted off the thing's carpaced head and it let out a deafening screech. George jumped in surprise as the creature shook itself and clawed at its face where it had been hit. While there was no blood, there was a streak across its hard shell.
    He glanced back to see Lelena, sidearm in hand, with a look of terror and determination on her face.
    "RUN, STUPID!" she yelled.
    And so George ran.
    Lelena took two more shots before they both took off towards the fields. The shots were drastically less effective than before and it didn't even seem to notice the third bullet. They bounced off like the thing was made of solid plastisteel. It locked eyes on its attacker and pursued.
    They were just climbing the wooden fence when it began to barrel after them.
    The ground shook and shuddered with each step. It made George think of a runaway train and, not a moment later, it proved just how true that analogy was.
    Lelena and George had just entered the endless rows of corn a mere seconds after passing the fence, when the beast caught up and went through the barrier. The ironwood splintered like it were made out of loosely-held together toothpicks and George felt more than a couple embed themselves in his neck, back, and arms as shrapnel was sent flying.
    The beast barely slowed down.
    It slammed by them, throwing them to either side. George hit the ground with a soft crack. He grimaced and yelped, wondering if had broken something, only to be buried a moment later by a rain of corn stalks as the creature's tail cut away entire swaths of crop.
     He was about to push himself back up when he heard it slide to a stop. The loud crashing suggesting that it took half the field with it.
    For a breath, all was silent. Then, slowly, it begin to tromp its way back in his direction.
    George elected not to unbury himself.
    There was, of course, the chance that the thing knew exactly where he was. Or Lelena. But, covered in corn and hidden under the hot, scratchy stalks, hiding seemed a better idea.
    He could hear it moving around. It was so heavy, but moved with surprisingly grace. A constant, low hiss seemed to be interjected only by a trilling purr that punctuated a soft clawing at the felled corn.
    It sounded like it was hunting for them. And if it was hunting, it didn't know where they were. At least to a degree.
    As the thing moved closer, he thought about his wife; hidden somewhere unseen nearby, and muttered a silent prayer to no one in particular. He held his breath as the beast stepped directly over him.
    That was when he heard the click of his wife's gun cock.
    And so did the creature.

Heat - Part 2

    The orange-red flames roared with unyielding intensity and the world seemed to devolve into a twirling maelstrom of heat, pressure, and smoke.
    George held his arm up in front of his eyes, but it didn't seem to do much.
    The closer he got to the ship, the worse it got.
    The ship's automated systems were already hard at working deploying fire-foam and many of the flames were extinguished with undignified slurps as the foam bubbled up from the damaged hull. Still, while the fire wasn't out of control, he felt himself glancing nervously back at the edge of his fields and the dried out stalks.
    He didn't have much of his crop left. It would be a damn shame to lose it to this.
    George shook his head at the thought.
    He tried to push forward again, to get closer to the dying spacecraft, but still found that it was too hot. More and more fires were going out, but he just couldn't progress into the wall of heat without feeling sick and dizzy.
    So he waited.
    The ship in front of him was relatively small. It didn't really look like it was space worthy even before it took a nose dive through the atmosphere. It was circular, and bulky, with a blunt nose and heat shields just about everywhere he could see. The thing was built like a bullet. No windows, no wings, and, from what little George knew about ships, some pretty weak looking engines.
    Honestly, it would surprise him if something like this could get off the ground.
    Plus, it was small. For all the fire and damage it had wrought, it looked to only be slightly bigger than his truck. He wouldn't expect more than a dozen people could be sardined into that thing at one time.
    Where'd you come from? he thought to himself, staring at the blocky chunk of metal.
    Maybe he could get a better idea if he could see some of the decals or logos on the ship's hull, however that was a moot point. The fire suppressant system continued to belch out foam all over the surface of the craft, putting out progressively more and more of the inferno that covered it. The foam, coupled with the dirt, grime, and ash from the ship's crash-landing obscured just about any finer details there were to see.
    He stood there for another long minute, just watching the craft, when he started to notice the waves of heat that had been coming off of the thing seemed to be diminishing. It was still sweltering, but he didn't feel like he was standing in hell itself.
    George stepped closer. And, as he did, the ship let out a long, dying hiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssssssss.
    He stopped short, trying to find the source of the sound. A moment later, a cloud of white gas burst from the crater and the edges of a door appeared on the outer edge.
    The door hissed again and tried to open, only to get stuck after a few inches. George started to move forward again only to catch himself.
    Who's ship was this? Why was it here?
    A resounding BANG echoed on the door, as if someone hit it with a sledgehammer, and the metal frame buckled. The door fell forward and slammed into the dirt and the thing behind it went with it.
    At first, George thought it might have been some kind of robot. Easily 7 to 8 feet tall, the thing laying on the door had two arms, two legs, and a head, but that was the only thing 'human' about it. Everything else was hard metal, whirring gears, and flashing lights.
    It was also covered in blood and had massive gouges carves out of it here and there.
    It wasn't until George really thought about what he was seeing that he was able to put his thoughts together. This thing was a military hardskin. An exoskeleton that soldiers wore in combat. The massive armor could stop pretty much all small arms fire and make it so the men and women wearing them could literally walk through hell and back again without a scratch on them.
    So why did this one look like he'd been through a meat grinder?
    "Hello?" he yelled at the hardskin. "You ok?"
    There was no response.
    George couldn't move any closer to the ship. It was still far too hot and, even being as close as he was, he felt sick and like his skin was going to start blistering just standing there. So instead, he circled slightly to see inside.
    He immediately wished he hadn't.
    Even just moving to the side, he saw that the downed soldier was one of several. He could make out at least four others shoved into the tiny compartment. There might have been more, but George couldn't make it out through the blood.
    It looked as if a mad-man with a chainsaw had been doing ballet in the closed space. Every soldier that he could make out had been torn apart. They lay here and there in pools of their own viscera. Broken faceplates, shredded armor, missing limbs. And all of it had been sprayed around the inside of the cabin.
    George, who prided himself on being a strong redback who busted his ass outdoors everyday and being better than any of those 'slickers' in the core worlds, promptly fell to his knees and threw up right there in the field.
    hisssssssssgrrrrrrrrrongh
    His stomach was still heaving when he heard the noise. He tried to look up, only to vomit some more.
    hiiiiiiSSSSCRA!
    Spittle still on his lips and tears in his eyes, George glanced back to the ship and realized there was something moving inside. He had missed it at first, mistaking it for a pile of gore in the back of the darkened ship. However, now, plain as day, he saw something pulling itself up from the far end of the craft.
    And it was like a monster out of a madman's worst nightmares. A thing of teeth and claws and glowing eyes and armor. A thing of sharp edges, pain, and death. A thing that easily stood taller than the hardskinned soldiers and filled the far end of the cabin.
    A thing that was softly hissing and staring him dead in the eyes.
    "George?" he heard Lelena calling from somewhere behind him.
    He did not call back.

Heat - Part 1

    The sweat poured down George's face. It burned as it dripped into and pooled around the edges of his eyes and forced him to blink away bleary eyed tears. All the while, the sweat seemed to do nothing for the heat.
    The God. Damned. Heat.
    Drawing himself up from where he was crouched in front of a particularly dusty stalk of corn, he looked at the meager crop that surrounded him.
    Corn grew in lopsided rows in every direction. It went as far as he could see and being in the middle of the field always gave him the eerie feeling of being watched. He liked to blame the scarecrows, but knew it had more to do with the tight corners and easy hiding places. His sister had scared him one too many times growing up not to be half-nervous in the fields.
    Now, with the twin suns of Meia and Leia high overhead and the end of the harvest only a week away, he couldn't wait to be done with the damned crop until the following year.
    Having both Meia and Leia in the sky for the last year had played havoc with everything. The days were hotter and shorter. The nights were colder and longer. The frost decimated entire fields in a single night and the heat-induced drought had suffocated more plants than he cared to think about.
    His harvest would be a lot smaller than he wanted. Still, he couldn't help but feel lucky in the face of it all.
    At least he wasn't on one of the contested worlds.
    As a rule, George tried to ignore the news coming out of the more centralized systems. The news talked of little else than the political turmoil, the evils of one side or the other, and the men who died by the thousands in the name of their government.
    He supposed that in the war between the Federal Democracy of Planets and the Honorth Allegiance, he should care more about the FDP since they controlled Shone III; the little planet he called home. Yet, between one corrupt system and another, he really just didn't care.
    Men fighting for power and money. People dying in the name of lost causes. Homes and planets destroyed in that hunger and avarice.
    The thought of hardskin boots tromping through his fields and soldiers setting fire to his barns crossed his mind. It twisted his stomach into knots and his lips into a scowl.
    He spit.
    "Fuck 'em." George said to no one in particular.
    "Fuck who now?" Lelena asked as she appeared from behind a dusty stalk and walked towards him.
    "No one, dear." he said, his tone softening.
    "Aww. You're no fun. Here I thought that was an invitation." she responded in a singsong voice.
    His gaze drifted up and down his wife's form and a smile crossed his lips. She was filthy. Her overalls were ratty and covered in dirt, her shoulders were bright red from working under the sun, and her her face was beginning to wrinkle like leather.
    And she made his heart skip a beat.
    "Hey there, sexy." she said, walking up and wrapping her arms around his middle; a cloud of dust puffing off of them from the contact.
    "Hey yourself."
    "Got a cigarette?"
    "Maybe. What's in it for me?"
    "Kiss?"
    "Yea. Ok."
    He leaned down and kissed her. Her lips tasted of dirt and salty sweat, but he didn't care. She was his and he was hers and if he was bothered by a little bit of field dust, they'd chose then wrong life together.
    "Mmm. I like that." Lelena chided with a silly smile.
    "Yea?" he asked, drawing one of the last hand-rolled cigarettes from his vest pocket.
    "Yea." she agreed, pulling out the silver lighter from her pocket and lighting up.
    They shared the tobacco for a long minute before either of them spoke again. This time, it was less lovey dovey and more business. But George was ok with that.
    "We lost another cow." Lelana remarked solemnly.
    "Was it the old brown one that Jeffrey was telling us about the other night?"
    "That's the one."
    "Not the first." George sighed. "Probably won't be the last before year's end."
    "Mmm." Lelena said in way of agreement as she took a long drag.
    George reached over and plucked the cigarette from his wife's fingers. He took a drag of his own and flicked the butt into the dirt, careful to avoid the dried out corn stalks on either side of them.
    "Come on." he said with a squeeze of her arm as he ground the burning embers under his boot. "We should get cleaned up. I'm sure Jeff and Nadia will be demanding dinner by the time we get there."
    "Let 'em wait. Those kids do nothing but eat."
    "They take after their Daddy." he said with a smirk.
    George leaned down to give his wife another kiss when a deep shadow passed over head. It moved straight through the light of Meia and Leia and, not a moment later, was associated with a high pitched keening noise.
    They both stared up in shock.
    An orange red fireball plummeted from the sky at a sharp angle. Bursts of flame and sparks jetted out from its belly and a glittering trail seemed to stream from all sides.
    "Is that a ship?!" Lelena asked in shock.
    As if to answer her question, the flames began to peel away from the spacecraft's nose and reveal the metal hull. It was searing red and heat billowed off of it even as the fireball dissipated. It was only then that George realized the 'glitter' he saw were chunks of metal tearing from the ship's surface.
    "It must have hit the atmosphere at too sharp an angle." George said before turning to his wife. "Go get on the horn and get the marshall out here. Ambulance too. Those folks might need help."
    "And what are you going to do?" his wife demanded.
    "Go and help."
    They stared at each other for a long moment, the echoing screech of the dying craft punctuating the silence between them. It was broken by an echoing crash! and WHUMPFH! as the craft hit the ground just outside of their fields and burst into a brand new inferno.
    "GO!" he shouted as he turned to take off running.
    He could hear her heading in the opposite direction as he ran towards the burning wreckage that was billowing smoke and fire in fields just past his farm, slapping corn stalks away as he went. He escaped the corn field, ran out onto the open road, and headed towards the mass of twisted metal and raging heat.
    More God. Damned. Heat. he thought to himself.