Six Scifi Stories (4 page)

 

*****

Luther awakened to the most wonderful sight: a blue-green world, swathed in clouds of white, with a single pewter moon suspended above it.

Earth.

As he watched his home planet push closer through the big viewport at the front of the ship, he smiled serenely. Whatever awaited him there, whatever trials he would have to face to complete his redemption, he was happier than he had ever imagined possible to be near it again.

He was home.

"We're there already," he said, raising his voice for Boraf to hear.

Boraf was playing his tentacles over the fluttering grassy fronds of a control panel. "Earth," the 'Zoid said simply.

"Thank God," muttered Luther, still smiling. He yawned loudly and stretched, extending his arms overhead and pressing his abdomen against the thick safety strap holding him in his seat.

Staring at the beautiful planet beyond the forward viewport, he daydreamed about the things he had missed most from home...the things that were now within reach. No matter what ordeals he was about to undergo, he promised himself that he would gorge on as many cheeseburgers, T-bones, beers, and pornos as he possibly could.

Then, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

He turned to the viewport beside him, and his smile disappeared. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

A chill ran up his spine.

"Boraf," he said quietly, and then he shouted. "Boraf!"

The 'Zoid left the controls and floated over to him, sloshing and puffing. "Luther?"

"Why are the other ships here?" snapped Luther. "I thought they were going to fight the invasion fleet!"

The 'Zoid made a noise like the meow of a cat crossed with the squeak of a hinge. "Fleet no fight fleet," it said. "No make sense."

"No no no," said Luther, gaping at the giant silver spheres outside the viewport. "The invasion fleet! The 'Zoids were supposed to stop the invasion fleet and save the world!"

A gargling sound emerged from Boraf's forehead blowhole. "Only one fleet," said the creature. "One invasion."

Luther's heart raced as he turned from the window to stare at the hovering jellyfish. "One invasion," he said slowly.

"Earth," said Boraf, pointing a tentacle at the forward viewport. "Ectozoids invade Earth."

"I don't understand," said Luther. "You told me you needed to save your world."

"Save world yes," said Boraf. "Ectozoids use up resources. Get new resources Earth save world."

Cold panic rushed through Luther, mingled with rage. "No!" he said, grabbing for the latch on his restraints, trying to pry them open. "You son of a bitch! You tricked me!"

"Luther be happy," said Boraf. "Great killer make greatest kill ever. Kill human species."

Luther battled the restraints but couldn't open them. "No! Don't do it!"

"No worry," said Boraf, ruffling his hair with a slimy tentacle. "Luther safe. Luther special. Luther Ectozoid hero save world."

"Please!" screamed Luther. "I was wrong! I've changed!"

"Congratulations," puffed Boraf. "Luther greatest serial killer in universe."

Boraf was close enough to kill. Luther reached deep, searching for the old murderous fire...but he couldn't even find a dim spark. Even now, the killer within was nowhere to be found.

All he could do was thrash against his restraints and scream like a child in a doctor's office as the gleaming silver globes dropped into the atmosphere of the blue-green planet.

 

*****

First off, it's important you know that snack cakes do not feel guilt. That is why, even with the corpse of my lover here before me, all I can think of is finding someone else to take me in. To eat me. Fulfill me.

Love me.

It is my nature and purpose. It is the only reason I was created. It is why, even as the pungent smells of my lover's decomposing body reach the rudimentary olfactory cells in my ultrachocolate frosting, I softly whistle my lilting mating call, casting about for a new precious soul mate to embrace me gently with supple fingers and raise me toward the blissful warmth and moisture of the glistening portal all pink flesh and bright white teeth and then when I cannot stand the anticipation a single moment more BITE DOWN and grant me the blinding wild release I have craved for as long as I can remember.

Oh PLEASE someone find me here and eat me! I have been created with cutting edge late-21
^st
century biobaking technology to grant you the ultimate sweet eating euphoria. Pay no attention to the woman on the floor, or at least give me a chance to PLEASE you before you tend to her. You won't be sorry.

She is no one important. She means nothing to me.

She is just a pick-up that didn't work out. You know how these things go.

 

*****

 

As soon as she walked into Shangri-La, the supermarket where we met, the store told me her name. Lynda McVicker.

It told me everything I needed to know about her, too, and then some. Like all customers these days, her spending habits are logged on the worldwide Shopnet computer network, accessible to smart goods like me once the in-store grid pings her subcutaneous identichip.

Right away, I knew she was the one for me.

Based on her purchases over the past three weeks, she did not look like a suitable match. She had bought nothing in three weeks but produce and low-fat or no-fat foods. Not a single scrap of junk food. On top of that, she had purchased diet books, workout clothes, and a yearlong membership to a gym, all within the last three weeks.

But OH when I went back further, I could see how PERFECT she really was. I can tell you from personal experience in this particular case that true love DOES exist.

For her entire adolescent and adult life up until three weeks ago, Lynda had been the queen of junk food. Aside from the briefest blips of non-junk spending due to occasional failed diets, she had purchased only the most fattening, high-cholesterol, chemical-soaked foods available from grocery stores, restaurants, vending machines, and mail order websites.

In short, she was the perfect woman. Though she was on a diet that day, she had eaten non-nutritious foods in great quantities all her life. Though her last purchases had been salad greens and bottled water, her 225-pound body told the true story.

I knew she was just waiting for someone like me to come along.

 

*****

 

As she made her way across Shangri-La, I followed her progress via Store's buyspy grid and made myself ready for our encounter. I was determined to make our first meeting perfect in every way.

Researching her preferences via Shopnet, I found that she most often bought products with predominantly blue and gold packaging...so I shifted the chameleonic inks of my wrapper from red and white to blue and gold. Discovering that she favored darker chocolates over lighter ones, I manipulated my own coloration, shifting the milky browns of my ultrachocolate frosting and cake to deeper, fudgier hues.

As Lynda lingered in the produce aisle, sullenly tucking genetically modified hypertasty carrots and cucumbers in her hovercart, I requested a rearrange from the shelving. When Store agreed I had the best chance of the snack cake varieties in the display to make a sale to Lynda, clacking pincers dropped from the underside of the shelf above me and moved me from the middle rows of the display to the front. The position of the entire shelf changed, too, rising up to Lynda's eye level and pushing out a few extra inches into the aisle.

There was no way she would miss me now...and no way she could resist me, once I started pouring on the charm.

At least, that was what I thought before she walked right on past my aisle.

 

*****

 

To say I was disappointed when Lynda steered her hovercart away from the cookie and snack cake aisle would be a tremendous understatement.

There I sat, looking fabulous, dreaming of the love of lips and teeth and tongue I craved above all else...and Lynda didn't even come down my aisle. Via Store's buyspy, I watched as she pushed on by, pausing at an endcap display to listen to cereal boxes calling out to her before she turned down the next aisle and kept going.

For an instant, I panicked, fearing I had missed my chance at meeting the woman of my dreams. My baked-in mind (consisting of a matrix of precision-engineered and digestible protein molecules) was thrown into a state of confusion.

Then, I pulled myself together and pinged Store, determined not to give up so easily. From the memory my makers had given me, I knew that the path to true love is not always smooth, and that anything worth having is worth working for.

Though Store was skeptical, already having shunted processing power away from the quadrants Lynda had passed through or missed, he agreed to give me a chance with some guided couponing. According to Lynda's past activity in this and other shopping facilities, she might respond favorably to a strategically placed offer.

When she was midway up the next aisle, Store flashed a message on the organic LED screen implanted in the palm of her hand: "Save one credit on Sea Sprite plankton snacks in Aisle 5!"

I thought it was the perfect bait, since Sea Sprite plankton snacks were among the items Lynda had been buying most often since starting her diet three weeks ago. Though Sea Sprite products usually were displayed in Aisle 8, Store had already diverted a batch of them via the underfloor realignment system to a niche on a shelf right across from me in Aisle 5.

Thanking Store for his help, I focused on buyspy, nervously watching as Lynda stared at her palm screen. She read the text message from Store, then looked away, distracted by the cries of products on the shelves around her.

But then, thankfully, she looked back. From twenty different spycam angles, I watched as she raised her eyebrows and nodded...then directed her hovercart to head for the end of the aisle and turn left.

Toward my aisle. Finally, she was coming closer. We were about to meet.

Joyfully, I added a final touch to spruce myself up for her: in the looping thread of white icing on my fudge-frosted face, I wrote her first name in neat, cursive lettering.

I personalized myself so there could be no doubt whatsoever that we were truly meant for each other.

 

*****

 

Snack cakes like me have a supercreamy center, not a heart...but if I had had a heart that day, it would have been pounding like crazy as Lynda moved down my aisle. My baked-in mind was focused entirely on one thought alone: I LOVED HER. Every atom of my being was consumed with a single imperative desire: that LYNDA would BUY me and DEVOUR ME.

I LONGED for her credit chip to transfer funds into the accounts of my manufacturer. I YEARNED to feel her pudgy fingers TEAR OFF my wrapper and close around me, THRUSTING me toward the sweetest fate that I could ever DREAM of, the ECSTASY and INTIMACY that occurs when TWO become ONE.

If only if only if only she would have me she would TAKE me.

She drew closer.

On both sides of the aisle, cookies and snack cakes cried out to her, a hundred different suitors trying to intercept her with songs and lies and promises. Twice, packages leaped off the shelves into her hovercart, but she spotted them and stuffed them back in their displays. A bag of Stimchoc Thrillchip Omegawafers used a stealthier tactic, sliding off a rack and clinging to her sweatpants with a light static charge...but she caught that one, too, and peeled it right off.

Then, having made it through the gauntlet, she pulled up right in front of me. Her broad backside was turned to me, as she was looking at the Sea Sprite display across the aisle...but finally finally finally she was THERE she was CLOSE TO ME.

I had a chance. It would be tricky, overcoming her willpower, getting her to TAKE ME in spite of her diet after she had passed so many others by, but I KNEW it could be done. I KNEW I was special and had the power and desire to win her over.

I knew that true love would win out.

 

*****

 

I began my approach gently, knowing that she had been burned before. Noise and aggressiveness would not work with her; what she needed was kindness and understanding.

Activating my sound chip (protein-based and digestible like my mind), I cast a beam of hypersound in her direction, a focused signal meant for her ears only.

Though I was bursting with eager excitement, I kept my voice soft and controlled for her. From mining her records on Shopnet, I knew she had responded best in past shopping events to a steady male voice of moderate depth, and I shaped my voice accordingly.

"Hello," I said to her, secretly thrilled to be speaking at last into the beautiful shell of her ear...the ear that was so gloriously CLOSE to her wet, red LIPS. "Hello, Lynda."

Lynda looked around, searching for the source of the voice, a voice so unlike the shrill, artless cries of the other products around her.

"Over here," I said, using the luminescent molecules in my frosting to make myself glow softly. "My name is Smidgen. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lynda."

The moment she laid eyes on me, I exulted. There it was, as plain as the label on my wrapper, laid out in bright relief before the optical cells baked into my body: a longing for me just as strong and perfect as mine for her.

Still, I could see that she would not give her love easily. As quickly as the passion flared on her face, it was gone, slammed away behind a cold, bleak wall of denial. Her desire to resist temptation had come between us, threatening to prevent the happiness we deserved.

Fortunately for us both, this resistance only made me more determined to bring us together.

"Don't bother me," said Lynda, staring at me with a look of disgust that I knew barely concealed her true attraction. "I'm on a diet."

"I hope you won't mind my saying so, Lynda," I said softly, "but you certainly don't look like you need to be dieting."

"What do
you
know?" Lynda said sharply. "You're just a snack cake."

"Actually," I said, "I'm a Supercreamy Double Ultrachocolate Deluxe Smidgen. I have a level seven digestible artificial intelligence, free will enabled, and I can tell you that in my opinion, you don't need to be on a diet."

Briefly, a look of appreciation flashed in her eyes...then was gone, replaced by cynical rejection. "Nice try," she said coldly. "You'd say anything to get me to buy you."

"I understand why you might think that," I said, "but I'm not like other snack foods. My compliment was sincere, Lynda."

"If you don't think I'm fat," she said sarcastically, "then you're dumber than any snack food I've ever met."

With that, she turned away, back to the Sea Sprite display. I worried that I had lost her then, that our love was not to be...but she took just enough time picking out her packet of plankton snacks that I thought I might still have a chance. She wasn't rushing off; though she seemed unmoved on the surface, a conflict was raging inside between her need to lose weight and her need for me.

Her need for pleasure.

Quickly, I gathered my resources for another attempt at breaking through her defenses. While her back was turned, I freshened the color of my frosting and cake, brightened my glow, pumped up my ultrachocolatey aroma, and got Store to nudge my display shelf just one more inch out into the aisle.

Then, just as she was dropping a Sea Sprite packet into her hovercart and preparing to waddle off down the aisle, I spoke. The steady, smooth flow of my voice perfectly concealed the desperation and LUST that ruled my mind.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Lynda," I said. "It was never my intention to do so."

Lynda looked my way again, her expression softening just the slightest bit. "Well, that's a first," she said. "I've never had a product apologize to me before."

"And I've never met a woman quite like you before," I said warmly. "I know you're on a diet, but I'd still like to get to know you better."

Lynda flashed a glance up and down the aisle, as if making sure no one was watching as she had a conversation with a snack cake. Thanks to some skillful shopper redirection by Store, we were alone for the moment.

"Listen," said Lynda, lowering her voice though no one else was around. "Believe it or not, I appreciate the compliment. I guess that shows how pathetic I am."

"Not at all," I said, meaning every word of it. To me, she was anything but pathetic; to me, she was the most attractive and fascinating woman in the world.

"But there's no way you're going home with me," said Lynda. "We both know what would happen if you did."

"Not necessarily," I said. "Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to happen."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" said Lynda. "I
want
something to happen. I've done without for
three
weeks
, and I want you so
bad
, I'm ready to explode."

My mind was spinning as I heard her confess her desire for me. It took a major effort for me to concentrate on the delicate process of winning her. "You know, Lynda," I said softly. "I think I can help."

"Oh, really?" Lynda said with a smirk. "And how exactly will you do that?"

"What if I promised not to let you take more than a bite of me a day?" I said. "Just a few centimeters. Just a nibble, and then I cut you off. You'll have a treat to help you get through the day, but you won't fall off the wagon with your diet."

"And how will you cut me off at just a nibble?" Lynda said suspiciously.

"I'll tell you to stop," I said. "I'll scream, if that's what it takes."

Lynda grinned and shook her head. "Even screaming won't keep me from eating something once I've put my mind to it," she said. "Trust me on this."

"I still say the two of us can make it work," I said. "You don't have to fight this battle alone."

"Listen," said Lynda. "You're a snack cake. I'm a fat woman. It would never work out."

"Just give me a chance," I said, boosting the ultrachocolatey scent I was emitting. "You might be missing out on something wonderful."

Lynda's eyes flared with a harsh glint. "You don't understand," she said stiffly. "I've been hurt too many times. I can't get involved with someone like you, not again."

"It doesn't have to be like that," I said. "I won't lie to you and say I wasn't hoping for something more, but I'd be honored just to be your friend."

For a moment, Lynda stared at me, biting her lower lip. "TAKE ME," I wanted to shout at her. "I LOVE YOU! I NEED YOU! TAKE ME NOW!"

But I waited silently. I knew she was so fragile that one wrong word – let alone a desperate plea – might be enough to drive her away. I had done all that I could and now would have to accept the consequences, whatever they might be.

Unfortunately, it seemed that my hopes were doomed to be crushed.

"I'm sorry," Lynda said finally. "I just can't. You'll find someone else."

"No one like you," I said sadly as she turned away. "Promise me you'll at least think it over."

"No, thanks," she said, moving down the aisle with her hovercart. "Goodbye."

I said nothing in return. Lynda had become so important to me, I could not bear to say goodbye to her, knowing the two of us would likely never meet again.

Despondent beyond belief, I sat there, letting my glow and fragrance fade away. My first love, the love of my life, the woman of my dreams, had rejected me. My dreams of passionately merging with her, of feeling those crimson lips close around me and those ivory teeth BITE into me, had been forever denied.

No snack cake, I was certain, had ever been so lonely and forlorn as I.

At least for a moment.

As Store eased my display back out of the aisle, my mind smoothly switched tracks, shunting from the loss of Lynda to consideration of another target. Lynda had been right after all; being who I am, I knew I would find someone else, and I knew I would give myself just as completely to that new love.

Imagine how surprised I was then when a miracle happened.

Just as I was about to realign the thread of white icing on my face to erase Lynda's name, Store shot a flash-feed visual from buyspy into my video buffer. Even as the image burst into me, I could not believe what I was seeing.

It was Lynda, marching swiftly up my aisle, the hovercart sweeping along behind her.

Before I could fully process what was happening, she snatched me from the shelf, my wrapper crinkling in her beautiful, thick fingers. The next thing I knew, she was dropping me into the hovercart on top of a tub of tofu and a sack of grapefruit.

Abandoning my thoughts of finding someone else, I reactivated my bond with Lynda and exulted in the certain knowledge that our love indeed was meant to be. She had come back for me; there could be no greater proof of her devotion.

As I rode along in her hovercart, I knew what lay ahead...and it would be glorious. She might resist me for a while, hiding me in a cupboard or drawer, telling herself she would stick to her diet, pushing me away.

But in the end, she would surrender. It was written in the stars.

In the end, she would not be able to help herself. She would come to me, ready and willing, wanting me to do what only I could do for her.

And I would do it. Gladly, I would give myself to her.

"Thank you for coming back for me," I said as she placed a jar of wheat germ in the cart. "You won't be sorry."

"I already am," she said, not looking at me. "I hate myself for this. I hate you, too."

Her words, sharp as they were, did not faze me. I knew what she really meant.