2/26/15

A Contradictory Artifact
By John Laneri


An unusual blip suddenly appeared on my scanner's interface and alerted me to action. At the time, I was preforming a beryllium activated ground scan that was capable of delineating objects from over five hundred meters. It was one of the many ways we repeatedly searched for artifacts in remote areas that were impossible to search on foot.

Banking hard, I executed a sixty degree turn, feeling the pull of gravity weigh against me. Then, carefully nudging the controls a fraction, I leveled my hovercraft over a strange cone shaped object in an attempt to get a better look.

From what I could see, the thing was leaning to the side with its base buried in the soft sand common throughout the southern reaches of Planet Morika.

As usual, I again wondered if I had come upon viable evidence of a prior civilization. Most likely, I was looking at either a meteorite or another piece of space junk that had survived a fiery plunge through Morika's atmosphere.

Morika is a small planet. It's located only a few light years from Earth where it orbits a main sequence star in the FRN-469 Sector of the Milky Way Galaxy.

The planet proper was originally colonized by a contingent of our ancestors who arrived here centuries ago as part of a research project focused on learning whether or not a mixed race of earthlings could unite on a distant planet and create a harmonious, worldwide civilization.

As of today, only a small handful of people have ever elected to return to Earth. We enjoy a thriving society that is economically and socially sound. No wars. No famines. And, best of all, we have a climate that allows us to produce substantial agricultural products that help to boost our standard of living and essentially live stress free lives.

As to me, I'm an archaeologist. My duty, as an investigator for the Bureau of Antiquities, is to search for artifacts that could possibly indicate the presence of prior civilizations on Morika.

So far, our findings suggest that we are its first and only human inhabitants.

Once on the ground, I carefully approached the thing unsure of its nature. A portable xenon scan had already suggested that it was probably just another metallic space object, so I eased closer to study a series of vague markings on its side.

Most had either been lost due to weathering or burned away during entry. A single character, though, near the capsule's apex did stand out just enough to suggest the Latin symbol M.

Intrigued, I moved to the opposite side and identified what appeared to be a hatch of some sort that was almost completely hidden under the sand.

Using my hovercraft to lift the thing onto solid ground, I was then able to fully visualize a distinct hatch cover and began cutting through the opening using a photon knife. By then, I was certain that I had discovered something important.

Carefully, so as not to disturb any relics inside, I lifted the door away and discovered a humanoid skeleton clothed in what appeared to be a tattered space suit that bore a faded shoulder patch vaguely reminiscent of a flag.

Further examination revealed a metallic identity tag that hung loosely around the bones of the neck. Moving into the sunlight for a better look, I was able to read the inscriptions and learned that the bones belonged to a Major James O'Keeffe, United States Air Force – a title that led me to wonder if the man had been associated with one of the early space programs on Planet Earth several centuries prior to our colonization of Morika.

But how did he end up here?

My excitement growing, I returned to my hovercraft and logged into Morika's Global Information Sphere in hopes of finding some clue that would explain my discovery. After a thorough search of historical data regarding early space programs on Earth, I was still unable to grasp the significance of my find simply because the facts did not correlate with the reported history.

Returning to the capsule, I began a detailed inspection of the cabin that produced more information. To the side, I spotted a small storage panel and located a logbook that indicated his date of launch had been October 21 in the earth year, 1959.

At that point though, something still seemed wrong.

I again returned to the hover craft and repeated my computer search, looking for specific dates and times of each Mercury Project space flight. After a careful study, I learned that his date of launch had actually been two years prior to the first reportedly successful Mercury launch with a human subject in the year 1961.

With that last bit of information to consider, I returned to the capsule and spent many minutes staring into the man's empty eyes, my thoughts jumping from one contradiction to another.

I eventually decided that Major O'Keeffe had probably been an original Mercury astronaut whose mishap had been quietly hidden from the public in those early days of the American space program. His coming to rest on Morika, in my opinion, most likely represented pure chance.

Further conclusions regarding his presence on Morika, I knew, would be decided by a panel of experts within the Antiquities Bureau, yet I was certain that he had died a lonely death due to oxygen deprivation.

As to how and why his capsule had been able to escape Earth's gravity and then travel for centuries through the cosmos before finally coming to rest on Morika was a project that would likely interest researchers for years to come.

Later, as I returned to base with both him and his capsule in tow, I began to wonder how many others of his generation were still drifting through space, their sacrifices buried in the silence of secret government files.


- - -
A native born Texan, John currently lives near Houston. Publications to his credit have appeared in several professional journals as well as a number of internet sites and short story periodicals.

1/22/15

Friends In Another Life
By John Laneri


A voice in Todd Martin's head spoke incessantly – never ending, yet prompting him to heed its message and appear for another interview at the Mercantile Office Building.

Once there, he moved hurriedly across the lobby, toward the elevators, wondering if the woman lurked nearby. She always seemed to be close whenever he heard the voice.

Had she willed him here, he asked himself, or had the Masters and their population of avid spectators summoned his presence for another life or death struggle?

For reasons he did not fully understand, the Masters, as they called themselves, had determined his fate years before. He knew them only as people of a distant world whose population thrived on viewing mortal combat between a man and a woman.

Still uneasy, Todd stepped into a crowded elevator. It stopped on three to let several passengers out. They were followed by an attractive woman with dark hair who quietly entered just as the doors were closing.

She was of medium height, wearing a tailored pants suit and stylish heels. A single whiff of her musky fragrance though, heightening his caution.

He edged back, knowing that his counterpart was a lady of disguises.

Once he reached the sixth floor, they were alone.

She moved to the control panel, her stylish heels tracking across the floor, then looking over her shoulder, she smiled and asked, “Where to?”

He indicated eight.

“We're getting off on the same floor,” she said in a soothing voice. “What a nice coincidence.”

Todd started to say something, but suddenly, she turned and charged him, locking her legs firmly around his body while directing her pointed nails toward his eyes.

Struggling for balance, he turned away to protect the eyes then spun around and slammed her against a wall, releasing the leg hold.

“You're a wicked bastard,” she snarled, as she sprang to her feet and again sent her fingers searching for his eyes.

“Stop... this insanity,” he demanded, as he pushed her away.

“Never!” she screamed. “I hate you with all my heart. You're the reason why I've been unable to live a normal life for all these years.”

“We're both being controlled by the Masters. Don't you understand?”

“It doesn't matter. We fight to the death. That is the rule,” she said, as she twisted to the side then aimed a spiked heel toward his groin. “I knew you were vile when you violated the rules and used a weapon to knife my leg. I still suffer constant pain.”

“Believe me, I suffer the same pain as you. It's one of the rules we were forced to accept. And besides, you're using spike heels for a weapon as we speak.”

“The shoes are merely an edge to even the odds.”

“If you say so... but you need to understand that we've been brainwashed into hating each other by the Masters. They're controlling us. We've never had reason to be enemies. We're nothing more than pawns in a galactic game that's being orchestrated and viewed from a distant world. You heard the Master's voice years ago just as I did when we interviewed for that job.”

“The worst day of my life,” she replied, as she whorled around and threw a wicked kick toward his head.

“Listen to me. It's the hatred that keeps us going. It overrides all of our other emotions. Neither of us has been able to live normal lives since our fighting began. But, I do think that once we stop our combat they lose their control.”

“How do you know?” she asked, as she continued circling in a defensive posture.

“I don't... but I think the misdirected hatred keeps us in constant conflict with each other.”

“So what?” she asked, as she landed a jab to the side of his head.

He shook it off saying, “Ask yourself, why do you hate me?”

She laughed. “As the lady said, let me count the ways.”

“Stop playing with words. Relax... try to control your inner self. Think about something pleasant, something good.”

“What if I don't want to?”

“Do it anyway. Do something to calm your inner turmoil.”

“I doubt that I can.”

Many tense minutes later, while she continued to feint threatening moves, she gradually relaxed then stepped back and took a deep breath, keeping her eyes firmly directed to his.

“We need to find a neutral place where we can talk.”

“Can I trust you?” she asked in an uncertain voice.

Todd lowered his guard and replied softly, “You have to, if you want this business to stop. Once we get to the first floor, we need to walk across the lobby like normal people. Then, we'll find a quiet coffee shop where we can be talk... agreed?”

She cautiously edged near him. “I'll try, but I'm still not sure I can do what you're asking.”

Once in the lobby, they stepped off the elevator and looked about. As they started toward the exit, he noticed her features relax. Moments later, he began to experience a renewed sense of contentment deep within his soul.

It was a feeling he had not known in years.

***

On returning home, Todd was unsure as to why he had gone to the Mercantile Office Building. He did remember that shortly after arriving there, he met a woman in a local coffee shop.

She had dark hair and was of medium height, wearing a tailored pants suit and stylish heels. Strangely, he detected a musky scent about her that reminded him of someone he had known in the past.

He was not exactly sure how or why they met. He just knew that they were drawn together as if they had been friends in another life.


- - -
John's writing focuses on short stories and flash. Publications to his credit have appeared in several professional journals as well as a number of internet sites and short story periodicals.

4/17/14

From Frustration to Concern
By John Laneri


Today's local meeting represented another exercise in frustration. The government had gone beyond the point of ridiculous. In my opinion, we needed a viable space craft before debating who would leave the planet first and attempt to seek rescue.

When we initially left Earth, our objective had been to explore planetary systems that displayed unusual gravitational behavior. Our problem arose while we were studying the gravitational interactions within a group of planets that orbited each other as well as the star QHT6441.

What we failed to understand at the time was that multiple interacting gravitational forces could, for brief periods, become unstable. As a consequence, we were suddenly locked into an orbit around one of the smaller planets. Within minutes, our momentum decayed beyond the capacity of our thrusters, and we were suddenly pulled into a crash landing onto an unknown planetary surface.

With little hope of rescue, the six hundred remaining survivors, myself included, set about making the place home. Now, some twenty years later, most of us doubt that we will ever see Earth again, so we've named our new home, Planet Myrika.

It's a moon sized body with a temperate climate. While most natural resources are modest, we accept the place for what it is, even though we continually envision building a spacecraft that will take us home.

The problems we face, however, are enormous.

Our original spacecraft was destroyed beyond repair. Much of it still litters the landscape hundreds of kilometers away. We have no functional computers or sources of power. And worst of all, we have a governing body that completely lacks common sense. As a result, most of us have been socially reduced to peasant status. The unfortunates such as myself either tend ramshackle shops or maintain small farms and hunt chickens in an attempt to earn a living for our families.

Other than an overpopulation of large, aggressive, free ranging chickens, which incidentally represent our major source of food, our greatest threat comes from an all knowing, utterly ignorant group of functionaries known as government officials. Even though we have a democratic system, we've learned that sensible governments can quickly degrade into brainless political bodies unless held in check by the people.

And, that is exactly the reason why I left the local meeting in a state of frustration.

To clear my head, I took the long way home by walking toward a place called the crater region. I needed time to step back and relax and even reminisce about life on Earth.

Near the South rim of crater RW39, a remote area seldom visited, I noticed something odd. On looking closer, I suddenly realized that I had just spotted my first ever flying saucer.

It was partially hidden behind a rocky outcrop, so I edged cautiously toward it and paused behind a boulder to look it over.

In appearance, it was only about three meters in diameter, which seemed too small for humans unless it was alien or the government had devised that rumored technology capable of shrinking people to fit inside of small spacecraft.

On looking closer though, the thing looked elliptical rather than circular – a configuration that suggested the government had either miscalculated the dimensions or the saucer experts were wrong. Either way, the project would likely be considered politically incorrect.

I also failed to see a propulsion system, so I reached for my binoculars. After several minutes of searching, I was still unable to visualize any means of power – again, something probably not thought through by the government.

By then, I was stymied until I noticed something else – and I am not joking. The saucer was resting on two landing struts that were splayed at the bottom to look exactly like chicken feet.

Once I spotted the feet, I knew the saucer had to be a secret government project not only because chickens were so abundant but because the government was often prone to act without reason.

At that point though, nothing made sense, until I reconsidered the chicken feet and began to redirect my thoughts along the lines of government thinking.

Going back to my days in school, I remembered that chicken feet twitch back and forth when an electrical current is applied to the skin, so rapid movement of the feet could theoretically provide propulsion. I also knew that chickens continue to run in circles after the head is excised – a capability that allows them to function without power during adverse conditions.

A viable computer, however, would still be needed to control the chicken as well as its direction of movement.

Chuckling to myself, I remembered an earlier government attempt to use chicken heads to replace the processors of our lifeless computers. The project failed, but technologies do evolve.

On the other hand, if the government was actually able to use a chicken head for a computer, then it might be capable of designing a rescue vehicle around a chicken – a highly unlikely possibility, none-the-less, a possibility.

A short while later, as I was reviewing my thoughts and having a good laugh, concern began to replace my earlier frustration.

By then, I was beginning to wonder if the government actually did think it could use a chicken to power a flying saucer through the reaches of outer space. If that was true, then we only had a few short years before the chickens were intellectually capable of running the government.


- - -
bio here