Wires Crossed
By C. W. Stevenson
PUR watched the small pack of amhead graze in the meadow. He remained still, sitting cross-legged in the center of the shrubbery he’d concealed himself in near the edge of the jungle. One movement, and they’d all scatter. He stared, studying them closely; the way their boney jaws chewed the grass, allowing the excess soil to fall from their thin lips before swallowing, the way the males grunted when they wandered too close to one another, the way their necks shot up at the slightest sign of disturbance. A gawkee could sing the wrong tune at the top of the jungle canopy and the amhead would stop, jerking their heads up to make sure all was well.
They are right to do so.
PUR had wandered across the tracks of more than half-a-dozen predators on his short journey from Outpost Three. Any moment now, there could be sharp teeth clenched around the neck of one of the amhead. If PUR yelled out in time, the herbivores could abandon the meadow and make their escape, but his programming informed him that this was nonsensical to the mission at hand: Preserve the planet, preserve the integrity of the terraforming generators, preserve the outposts for future colonists, preserve yourself.
PUR had done all of this since he’d become aware of his existence. In the beginning, Corsaga hadn’t been much more than land masses of smoldering volcanic rock surrounded by oceans of salt and sand. He’d witnessed life in its smallest form grow from single celled algae to great lumbering mammals half-the-size of a terraforming generator. The jungles grew dense over time, and the oceans thrived, now teaming with alien life. It was pure, it was clean, and it was his to protect. He’d done so many times over the centuries.
So, he sat, and he watched. Observing the life that’d grown around him for thousands of years, PUR felt as though he understood the feeling of being a father. The biodiversity on Corsaga had become the closest thing to children he would ever have. In his own way, in which he’d been allowed to do so in his programming, he’d grown through his experiences, had come to care about the living things that had grown around him, had evolved, had died, had gone extinct. Such was life. But not his own.
No. PUR was special. He knew. As caretaker of Corsaga, he’d be here until his internal system ceased to function. It was as close to death as he could get, but it would be such a long, long time before that happened. Until then, he would protect this world.
“Captain, we’ll be entering Corsaga’s atmosphere in five minutes,” the technical officer advised.
Captain Ishmael Haia nodded his head, doing his very best to suppress the smirk forming across his mouth. But he was captain now, and the captain was always professional. As Chief Officer, he might’ve gotten away with a smirk, but now, with Captain Leah having passed in her sleep more than a standard month before, he’d assumed command of the colony transport vessel, Navigator 6. All serious, all knowing, all confident. It was expected by Federation standards that he should keep his composure at all costs, as Captain Leah had done. Never was there a finer example of a Federation officer, or commander. And so, he wished to follow suit, as short of a stint his command might last.
“Keep our distance from Navigator 7 as they enter Corsaga first,” he told Sauche, Chief Navigator and First Pilot. She’d taken responsibility of two roles to save the Federation credits, as many of the officers had. It also paid double.
“Yes, captain,” she replied, and began the deceleration sequence.
According to the weather analysis the ship’s automated bio-scanning system provided, Corsaga’s airspace would be free of any major storms en route to the landing station of Outpost One. But that didn’t mean he trusted it, especially an automated system. Ish believed what he could see with his own eyes, and the clouds he saw appeared thick. A little bit of turbulence was expected, but he wanted this experience to be smooth, safe, and memorable.
The thousand passengers on board had paid good money to start their new lives here. The least he could do was give them a beautiful introduction to their new home. Besides, he’d be staying too. His pay from Jericho to Corsaga had covered his and his brother’s spot down below.
Ish figured that Ankit, or Kit, was with the majority of the other passengers in one of the observation towers, or had found himself a spot with a nice view of Corsaga below. For the last month, in Ish’s spare time, he and Kit had discussed in great detail what they’d planned on accomplishing in their “Ten Year Plan.” They’d been assigned jobs as engineers, constructing the ready-to-be-made-home-kits, as well as constructing the perimeter fence. Afterward, they’d begin their own colony, somewhere deep in the jungles of Corsaga, far from any outpost. They’d make roads, homes, invent “Corsagan architecture,” whatever that may turn out to be.
So many plans for the future… preparing to enter the Corsaga’s atmosphere, Ish then felt an eagerness to complete their three-year tenure as contracted engineers as soon as possible. They’d work fast. The sooner the better. If the perimeter fence and homes were completed before their contracts ended, then their contracts could be renegotiated… and he and Kit would be free to do as they pleased.
But there was an obstacle in the way of ending their contracts early. The perimeter fence hadn’t become the engineer’s responsibility until recently. With the new responsibility added in to his, Kit’s, and the other engineers’ contracts, it was a very real possibility they’d be hard at work for the full term of their contracts. A full three years.
The Federation Planet Preservation Unit Response Android (PUR), already on Corsaga, had severed its communication nearly two-thousand standard years ago. When the engineers had been summoned to Navigator 6’s civilian conference room, they’d been briefed on their “new” duties. Without communication between the Federation and the android, PUR would have had no way of knowing how to build the fence, nor to construct proper housing for the colonists at each outpost.
According to Corsaga’s colony logs, two other ships had lost communication. Billions of credits wasted, even if it’d been centuries ago, the Federation wanted the matter investigated. What caused the end to communication? Where were the colonists? And why hadn’t the transport ships returned to Jericho once unloading their passengers and cargo?
From the bridge, Ish watched as Navigator 7 entered the Corsagan clouds. In a few moments they’d be through them as well, and the colonists would gaze in awe at their new world, green and so inviting.
The flash of fire in the clouds ahead of them caught Ish’s eye. Before he knew what was happening, Navigator 6 was crashing through the debris of what remained of Navigator 7.
Turning off the portable viewscreen to the Orbital Defense Cannon (ODC), PUR ran toward the damaged vessel flying wildly to the Corsagan surface.
The ODC was designed for a single blast from its vast reservoirs of plasma-based energy. It would take weeks to replenish the reservoirs for another shot. There was a dozen more ODCs across Corsaga, but none with the range or clear shot to finish off the vessel before completing its descent.
The incoming ship jolted side to side, attempting to maneuver its way through the firestorm of scattered debris. It’d be to no avail. Already, PUR could see large holes appear in the crashing ship, and the bright lights of the thrusters dimming before disappearing entirely.
Pirates, PUR surmised, breaking through his planet’s atmosphere. Polluting the delicate ecosystem with their presence. This was the third time now. But two ships, at once? That was a first.
PUR raced across the jungles of Corsaga, his bionic legs carrying him so fast he could hardly see in front of him. But his creators had seen to that. Built into his programming, PUR’s visual perception was so astronomically different from that of his human-counterparts that the technology within him could calculate his surroundings in nanoseconds. Thus, he moved through the jungle as if he were the wind. He dodged trees and creatures alike, hopping over rivers, jumping so high he could see above the jungle canopy. He made out the inferno above on his next jump. Remains of the pirate vessel had begun raining fiery debris overhead, one large metallic piece sizzling as it entered water before it sank. PUR hopped passed, annoyed. This would take him weeks, if not months to dispose of.
What a mess. What a mess.
Ish braced for impact.
He watched as Sauche did her best in the crash landing, but she’d lost Thruster A and B the process. Now, a smoking ruin, Navigator 6 would never again take flight. Ish stumbled over to a couple of bodies. One, Second Pilot Reid was dead, and beside him, a crew member whose name she could scarcely remember, breathed for a couple of seconds, twitching a hand before he went limp.
Michael? Daniel?
Ish addressed the survivors around he and Sauche, “Reid and Albert gave their lives to the glorious colonization for the Federation. We will remember them.”
“Er… I… yes sir, Reid and… Albert. Heroes, the both of them.”
Stepping through the cracked doorway of the bridge, Ish made his way to the emergency ground exit. Sauche followed close behind.
Outside, Sauche was in a trance at the jungle that surrounded them all. It was so damn green. Jericho had wilderness, but it was mostly gigantic fungi that they’d called trees for effect only. Here, the trees were as imposing as they were beautiful. A hundred feet high with branches so dense they could probably blot out most of the sunlight. It might’ve been so if Sauche hadn’t dragged the base of the ship for nearly half a mile across the jungle floor, tearing down hundreds of the ginormous trees and other vegetation. But Ish realized she’d done what she had to. Sauche had saved them.
Well, most of us.
Around them, colonists and crew alike were attending to the injured, wrapping bandages and cleaning wounds. Others had begun covering the dead with huge leaves from the fallen trees.
The first graves of Corsaga.
He caught Sauche in the corner of his eye, busy examining another lifeless body.
She didn’t didn’t bother looking up at him, but spoke as he approached, “Medical Officer Brant,” and she gestured to the body as if it were going to put on a show, instead Brant just lay there.
“A good man,” Ish said.
“Yes, I…” and Sauche burst into tears.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do, but as she approached, she placed a hand on his shoulder.
As she quieted down, she asked him, “Captain Ishmael, what happened, sir… to Navigator 7?”
Wiping the sweat from his forhead, Ish stood to his feet and regained his composure. He stared at the young woman. “Just Ish, I’m not captain of anything anymore. As for 7, did you not see? She was blasted as she entered the Corsagan atmosphere. Something manned an Orbital Defense Cannon.”
Horrified at the realization that someone had just annihilated a Federation colony transport with a thousand people on board, Ish closed his eyes, shaking his head with disbelief.
“Who? There is no one here!” Then, she threw up her hands. “There’s no one fucking here but us!”
Ish shook his head. “PUR. When the Federation selects a planetary candidate for terraforming, it sends a Planet Preservation Unit Response Android in advance to oversee the terraforming process along with the equipment. It maintains the terraforming generators for the most part. Also… it has full control of the Orbital Defense Cannons.”
Sauche didn’t appear convinced. “What is the Federation so afraid of that it needs Orbital Defense Cannons for? And why would PUR kill Federation colonists? Its only purpose is to get this world prepared for us!”
“Invasion from another species, perhaps? One species of ant on earth will take over another species of ant’s nest if abandoned. They’ll just move right in.”
“So, an alien species used our cannons against us?” asked Sauche.
“No,” Ish said. “Only PUR has access to the cannons until colonists arrive and its programming is changed to pass on its access to a military officer. It’s just… bad programming. Something must’ve gone wrong. It must think we’re a threat… oh god.”
Wide-eyed, Ish finally looked her in the eye and said, “We need to move. Now! I need to find my brother.” He was hyperventilating now, almost falling after a couple of wobbly steps. Regaining his balance, he began to storm off into the crowd of people near the bent ramp of the Navigator 6.
Sauche grabbed him by the shoulder. “Talk to me, Ish. Calm down. What’s going on?” she asked Ish.
“PUR…” he said, sounding terrified. “If it blasted Navigator 7 from the sky, then we can’t be here. It will kill… everyone. Man, woman, child, android, scrap metal. It doesn’t matter. It will destroy everything if it wasn’t already here. This thing doesn’t know the planet is ready to be colonized. If it’s killing colonists, then it must think Corsaga hasn’t completed terraforming yet. It sees us as a threat to the process. Now… help me.”
Together, they explained to the other officers what was happening, and in turn explained the situation to the rest of the crew and colonists. In an hour, Ish had the remaining nine-hundred survivors prepared to move. But he still hadn’t found Kit.
For now, they’d take shelter at the nearest outpost. Outpost Three was closest to their position, according to the digital map Ish was now studying.
Then, there came a scream.
Poor bastard. Ish jerked his head to the side to the see where the scream had come from but couldn’t find the source.
Then someone else screamed, and another, and another, and another.
In seconds, Ish watched as the crowd around Navigator 6’s wreckage went from chattering in despair to screaming in bloody horror.
He watched in terror as a woman not six feet away went from standing in place, confused, contemplating what to do, to staring at the bottom half of her body.
The flesh where her body had been severed burnt red before turning to a crisp black. She mouthed a gasping, “Pleeease,” at Ish, reaching a hand out toward him, to put her body back together, to stop the pain, anything.
“I… I’m sorry,” Ish said backing away. He stopped when he realized she was dead.
Ish looked up at the crowd scattering around him. Some took shelter in Navigator 6, still fuming with smoke. Mostly, they ran in any direction they could, away from death.
Then Ish saw through the carnage around him at what appeared to be a man walking calmly through it all.
PUR.
The weapon he carried burst light from the end of the barrel, red energy blasting through the warm bodies around him. It followed a group into the Navigator 6’s cargo bay.
He hadn’t realized he’d fallen to his knees. They felt as if they weren’t even there, as though his entire body didn’t exist. Numb all over. For a moment, Ish thought he might be dying. Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed began to hoist him upward, and he came to life.
“Sir!” Sauche screamed. “We need to get moving!”
He looked behind her and saw at least two-dozen people huddled together, waiting to be saved.
Ish rubbed at his eyes, red and stinging from the smoke that filled the air now more than ever, then peered at Sauche.
“Pull up Corsaga’s map through your viewscreen,” he told her.
Rolling her sleeve up, she gently touched the small device attached to her wrist and the holo-map shone bright in front her face. She studied their position.
“Sir, a river, less than a kilometer due north.”
Ish nodded. “Then we go. Was our emergency cargo pulled from the wreckage?”
“Yes, we’ve got six packs between the twenty of us. That’s six rafts.”
It was enough. They could make their way downriver. Far enough, and they could gather their thoughts and think about how to kill this thing. Then, they’d search for the other survivors. And he’d find his brother... if he still lived.
“Let’s go,” Ish said, then turned to the rest. “Everyone, stay quiet, and follow. We’ll get you out of here.”
Leaving the chaos behind, the survivors’ pace turned into a jog as screams from inside Navigator 6 began. Then, when the screams turned to silence, they ran.
PUR aimed at some of the pirates clustered in a utility closet. They shouted pleas for mercy, crying in each other’s arms. PUR could not oblige. He fired the plasma rifle and their screams turned to gurgled whispers as they died.
He wondered what these pirates had hoped to achieve. What precious resource had they come after? Was there civil unrest in the Federation? Had a faction taken it upon themselves to take over the Federation’s territory?
He pushed the matter to the side. It wasn’t his business to know, nor was it in his programming to investigate such matters. But he did find it curious. Why would any human come to Corsaga while its generators had not completed the terraforming process? After all, the Federation would send a confirmation through a system update if it was indeed time for the colonization process to begin. Even more concerning, he’d been without a system update for nearly twenty centuries.
Again, it was another matter to push to the side. It was not his place to understand his creator’s intentions. No, it was his place to do his duty. Who was he to question the creators?
PUR stalked the remains of Navigator 6 until it’d become apparent the rest of the pirates had perished from smoke inhalation or had succumbed to their injuries from the crash. Making his exit, PUR left the ship the way he came. He avoided stepping on the corpses that littered the ground outside. Anyone left breathing he ended on the spot.
With no more survivors in the vicinity, PUR began searching the ground for tracks. His system analyzed the number of tracks away from the crash site until it found a group with the greatest number of tracks. This particular group had twenty.
“Intruders will not molest the process,” PUR mumbled to himself. They would face their demise today.
As caretaker, this was his duty, and these damned pirates had no right to put the ecosystem of Corsaga in jeopardy. Not while he still functioned.
Seeing the tracks continuing north, PUR followed at great speed.
Ish popped open the remaining rafts into the river. He’d never seen such a fresh body of water. He guessed its width to be at least two miles wide. On Earth, he’d read of the largest river only being a quarter of the size.
Outpost Four would now be their destination. According to the map, the river would take them near the outpost in a few hours. There, they’d acquire weapons. Then they would wait for the android to strike.
The rest of the group had agreed on this, as uncomfortable as it made them to face such a powerful force. Ish and Sauche had assured them there was no other choice. They’d never be safe as long as the malfunctioning PUR remained on Corsaga.
“Is that everyone?” Sauche asked.
Ish looked back behind them, into the trees.
“If there were more, they’d have called out to us as we were traveling this way. This is it for now.”
Sauche looked at the ground, then to Ish. “This doesn’t feel right,” she said. “There could be others, still alive at the Navigator 6. They could be injured. I’ll go back.”
She began to walk away.
Ish seized her arm. “They’re all dead. When PUR is dead, we’ll go out and—”
The ground shook.
They looked at each other to make sure they’d each felt the same thing. Then again, the ground shook. A few seconds later it did again until it became almost rhythmic.
“It’s found us!” Sauche yelled, jumping into the nearest raft.
Ish looked around them, seeing nothing, but convinced Sauche was correct. It’d tracked them here.
Jumping into the raft with Sauche and two others, they paddled behind the other five rafts as the current gained strength the further they ventured into the channel of the river.
Then, Ish saw it.
Hurling itself over the treetops, PUR planted his feet along the riverbank, sinking to its knees in the muck from the sheer force of his landing.
“Halt!” it called out at them and fired a blast from its rifle.
It missed wide left, splattering the water far ahead.
Two more blasts missed them before the android entered the water.
“Go!” urged Ish, and his arms worked furiously to paddle them as fast as they could. He selfishly felt dread at being in the one raft with two older women. They just didn’t have the energy to move their arms any faster.
Sauche on the other hand began to cry as she looked back.
PUR was coming at them like a torpedo. Even if the current had been a hundred times faster, there was no getting away alive from this thing. Perhaps it was the horrifying thought of dying, but Ish refused to stop.
He paddled until he couldn’t feel his arms any longer. He paddled so that he might see his brother again, even if he wasn’t certain Kit still lived. Mostly, he paddled because he was afraid.
As a blast of water rushed against the side of the raft, Ish was certain they’d meet their death here and now. But as he looked up, he saw something emerging from the surface of the water behind them, causing PUR to stop his mad pursuit.
As the leviathan from the depths of the river surfaced, Ish and the others in their raft found a new vigor through their howls of terror. Soon, they were paddling again.
PUR gazed up at the creature, a thing he thought had gone extinct a millennium before. Clearly, he’d been mistaken. According to the data pulsing through PUR’s system, the creature would not thrive in this environment as it had a thousand years ago. Its existence would do more harm than good to Corsaga. It did not belong.
The motwor shrieked at the intruders fleeing its territory. It might have pursued them had it not been for the smaller intruder wading in the water below. It shrieked through its translucent jaw full of teeth before crashing its flipper-like-arms down.
PUR dodged, avoiding impact as water exploded around him with a deafening slap.
He swam towards the opposite side of the river where there was a canyon wall along the bank. If he could climb that, the motwor would be an easy target from above.
Zipping through the water, his plans came to an end as the motwor seized his legs. Resurfacing, the motwor thrashed PUR’s crushed legs, the black of its irises swollen with hate as it focused on destroying him. But PUR would not go out so easily.
His rifle slung useless across his back, PUR brought down both of his arms with such force it split the bottom lips of the motwor. PUR dropped from the creature’s jaws as blood and teeth fell with him. Entering the water, PUR quickly came back up as the motwor jolted its head in pain.
Extending an arm, PUR’s wrist shot out like a spear gun, sticking the motwor in its chest. The loose cable began reeling PUR in from the motor in his wrist until he was clinging tight to the creature’s chest.
With his hand reattached, PUR activated the switch on the stock of his rifle until the stock-end of his rifle revealed an ax head. Burying it into the motwor’s chest, PUR was almost flung from its body as it jerked wildly, its piercing screech trembling the surface of the water beneath them.
PUR hacked at flesh again, this time entering deep, past sinew and bone. Dark blood began to pour, and PUR was sure he’d just struck its heart, but the next moment… he was flying... flying toward the canyon wall.
Then, there was a crash, and all PUR could see was black.
Ish watched with as much fascination as horror while beast and machine clashed in the great river. He saw PUR strike the creature’s chest, but just as he’d struck… the creature had flung him against the canyon wall. Falling to the bank below, the android remained still. Aside from the gentle flow of the current washing the rafts downriver, Corsaga was finally silent.
They drifted along the river until those in the first raft called out to the others. They’d reached Outpost Four. Directing their rafts to the banks, the score of survivors covered them with branches from fallen trees, hiding them in the surrounding jungle.
Ish looked to the sky. It would be getting dark soon, judging by the dwindling sun. They struck a fast pace, making it to the outpost before there wasn’t much else to see but their hands in front of them. Ish was worried about the others, most of all his brother, lost in the Corsagan jungle. He was sure they’d find plenty of survivors now that the PUR was destroyed, but not all of them.
Predators in the night would surely not be shy with the new cuisine.
Entering the confines of the outpost, it was mostly a wooden structure. No fences surrounding the area. There was an equipment shed though. Within minutes the group quickly plundered what they could find.
Next, they moved closer to the outpost. Nearly sixty feet high, the outpost stood on wooden stilts.
Ish was impressed that the android had constructed this itself, murderer or not.
Climbing to the top, the group tended to each other’s wounds and ate what little they could find in their survival packs, which didn’t amount to much. Protein bars mostly. Tomorrow though, they would search for food, they would locate the others, and finally, begin their new lives on a new world, as each of them had dreamed.
Tonight, Ish wasn’t sure he’d sleep.
As PUR regained sight, he still only saw blackness. His night-vision did not activate as it should have, and so, he searched his system manually until he found the program.
Suddenly the world turned green.
Not far ahead of him, washed along the shore, was the motwor.
It was dead.
Night scavengers picked at its flesh, that is, until PUR’s eyes flashed beams of intense light towards them, chasing them off into the jungle.
He walked towards the motwor.
He’d felt compelled to kill the creature, realizing it was his programming that had made it impossible for him to not decide to kill it. But here, seeing it dead, he wished the amazing creature still lived. He wished to see it swim, using its giant fins to swerve along the river in search of food. He felt sorry he’d killed it… in fact, if it were still alive, he realized he wouldn’t kill it.
Confused, PUR scanned for any malfunctions in his system. Sure enough, he found that what minor structural damage his skull had received had caused his entire programming to revert itself back before his very first Federation update.
There was no mission. Nothing to make him do anything he did not wish to do. If he wanted to take a step forward, it would be because he wanted to.
He thought of the humans who’d arrived, the pirates his system had identified them. But as he replayed the order of events, he realized the truth of who and what they were.
The colonists.
Regaining his balance, PUR, damaged as he was, limped along the banks of the Great Corsaga River, toward the surviving colonists that had evaded him.
He’d made his decision.
Ish and Sauche took charge.
Together, they organized search parties until they’d found nearly half of the survivors. Most had found their own way, seeing the smoke signal Sauche had recommended they keep up until everyone had been accounted for.
By the afternoon, there was more good news. Another large group had made their way to Outpost Three, as originally intended, where Kit had answered from its control room. From there, they’d gathered what food, weapons, and supplies they could pull from Navigator 6. Pulling their resources together, based on what they had from the ship’s emergency rations, they could survive for nearly two years before figuring out what food they could grow, gather, hunt, or fish.
Ish had even planned for a “logging expedition” to begin building a perimeter fence around Outpost Four.
Along with Sauche, Ish had begun tagging what trees they would knock down.
Marking the tree with yellow tape, Sauche looked to Ish and said, “You know, we could reinforce the fence with scrap metal from Navigator 6. It’s just going to keep sitting there, might as well use what we can until more ships arrive.”
Ish smiled.
“If… they arrive. Whatever the Federation’s quantum engineers thought they knew, clearly, they made a miscalculation with communication here. Something must’ve happened. They wouldn’t be sending ships thousands of years apart if they knew the planet wasn’t ready to be colonized. In fact, I think th—”
“You’re right,” PUR interrupted.
Falling over backwards, Ish covered his face as he prepared to die.
Sauche stood in place, trembling. She couldn’t take her eyes off the android, knowing that running would be pointless. Ish had to give her credit; she would face death in the eye. But as they waited patiently, it never came.
“You’re right,” PUR repeated. “Quantum communications are down. But figuring it out is meaningless, as there could be a hundred possibilities.” PUR shrugged his shoulders. “Cosmic interference if you had to put a name on it.”
PUR took a step forward, and Sauche yelled, “Get back!”
Throwing the roll of tape, it bounced off the android’s chest.
“I’m not going to…” he corrected himself, “I won’t hurt you. With communications down, my system hasn’t received updates for… for a long time now. Anything and everything not of Corsaga was considered a threat until the Federation sent confirmation the planet was ready for colonization. When I was attacked in the water… the damage to my system gave me personal reign over my… self.”
Carefully, Ish stood to his feet. He cocked his head, looking the android up and down. Sure enough, there was some extensive damage. There was a dent on the right side of its skull, and its legs had been stripped nearly of all synthetic flesh, leaving two mangled and metallic bones reflecting back at him.
“Why couldn’t your system identify if the planet had been ready for colonization?” Ish asked. “Surely you could’ve discovered Corsaga was prepared for us.”
“Based on the scientific factors, yes, I knew humans could survive. But knowing something on your own and being programmed to know something are two different things. I couldn’t have made that decision myself."
Sauche sighed, then held out her hands. “You’ve destroyed our ships, our supplies… our people. Men, women, and children are de—” but she couldn’t finish as tears welled in her eyes.
“What now?” Ish asked the android.
“Corsaga will provide,” said PUR. Then, bending down, he picked up the roll of marking tape, offering it back to Sauche. “As will I.”
This story originally appeared in Alien Dimensions in November 2022.
A native of San Antonio, Texas, C. W. “Clint” Stevenson resides there with his wife, son, and their retinue of furry companions. In his spare time, he reads, spends time with his family, and collects too many books. His work can be found in Alien Dimensions, Illustrated Worlds Magazine, and Tall Tale TV.
Excellent story, Clint.