The Neighborhood Drink — NYCMidnight Final Round Entry

This was my final round entry for the NYC Midnight Short Story Competition

 

This was for the final round:
Genre: Sci-Fi
Subject: Neighbors

My story is called ‘The Neighborhood Drink’.

It received an honorable mention.  Thanks for reading!

 

Clues Tie Attack on HSS Pioneer to Alcohol

 

Special to the Galactic News Weekly!

 

Sycamore Galaxy, Planet Alpha Zayin

 

The most recent attack may have its roots in a prison at the edge of the universe

 

Details are now emerging on last week’s Erbium attack on the Human Space Ship (HSS) Pioneer that killed over 500 people.  Unofficial reports are stating that the Erbium soldiers who attacked the ship were inebriated from a drink called the ‘Neighborhood Drink’.  The Pioneer was carrying supplies to a human outpost in Sector 8 of the Columbus Galaxy when it was attacked and destroyed.  Human and Erbium governments are refusing to comment on the claims that the soldiers were under the influence of any substance.  However, this is not the first time that the Neighborhood Drink has been blamed for Erbium attacks.  As the attacks grow more frequent and deadly, the spotlight is shining on a most unusual corner of the universe.

At first glance, the Weber Detention and Correctional Facility looks completely at home in the barren rocky landscape of planet Alpha Zayin.  The large plastic bubble dome that houses Weber, or the ‘Web’ as it affectionately referred to by the inmates, hides the one of the most dangerous prisons in the universe.  The facility is home to some of the most violent and notorious inmates from both the human and Erbium empires.  Inside the dome are spa-like facilities: an Olympic size pool, a multilevel exercise room, and multiple decompression chambers, all intended to keep the inmates calm and happy.   But the accommodations are not the reason for the recent spike in interest in the facility, a drink created by two unusual friends had seeped out into the public and its creation has intergalactic implications.   

            The planet Alpha Zayin is six light years away from any other form of life in the far reaches of the Sycamore Galaxy.  Just to get to the prison takes over thirty six hours of travelling at light speed through various worm holes.  Shipping the tons of supplies and the few visitors to the prison is an expensive and time consuming task.  The sun that the tiny planet revolves around is twice as big as Earth’s sun, but since Alpha Zayin is one light year away from the star, the planet is cold and uninhabitable.  Perfect for a prison.

            Weber was created as an experiment between the human and Erbium governments at the end of the Four Year War fought between the two species.  It was the first joint project undertaken in those first shaky years after the signing of the peace treaty. 

            The prison was designated as a maximum security facility and was placed at the edge of the galaxy to ensure that if an escape occurred, the inmates would have nowhere to go.  In the first year after the prison was opened, the human and Erbium prisoners were segregated in different cell blocks and had minimal contact.  This segregation caused many fights between the two populations, most notably in the cafeteria and recreation centers.  The altercations usually ended with the Erbiums biting the hands off the humans, as they did during the war. 

            In a radical step, the joint wardens, human Abdul Sandsworth and Erbium Vzci the VIII, announced that in order to ease the tension and possibly become the first step in Human/Erbium reconciliation, the prison would be desegregated and the two species would be living in the same cell blocks.  However, to ensure that things didn’t move too quickly, they gave each inmate his own cell. 

In these early days of desegregation, life was not easy.  Erbiums and humans still fought but gradually the guards noticed that these incidents were becoming less frequent.  This was partially due to the fact that Web is the epitome of a high tech jail, incorporating the latest in prison security from around the universe.  This included the latest tracking devices, body control suits, and of course weaponry.  All this technology was put in place to keep absolute control of the entire prison population. 

The extra facilities were added just one year ago after human prisoners began compare the Web to Alcatraz, stating that keeping prisoners isolated on a far flung planet away from all forms of life was cruel and unusual punishment.  Fearing a public relations backlash against the first positive step since the war, both Erbium and human governments acquiesced to the inmates’ request.  The prison now had a pool, palm trees, artificial sunlight and an multilevel exercise facility for the humans and multiple decompression chambers for the Erbiums. 

Once the new facilities were installed under the giant bubble, the tensions between the two species melted away and friendships began to form.    

            It is here, amongst the palm trees and decompression chambers, that the Neighborhood Drink was created.  It was created in cell block 1E, known by those in the prison as ‘The Neighborhood’. 

“I called it the Neighborhood,” explains inmate Frank Tallisman, a small, muscular black man convicted of intergalactic murder and one of creators of the drink, “because we are all always together.  We never leave each other’s sight.  It reminded of growing up on Mars.  We were just a little neighborhood up there and we’re just a little neighborhood out here.  We’re not allowed to interact with the other cell blocks, so we’re all we got.  People around the universe see the exercise rooms, the cable, the pool and they think this is a resort but it’s not, its still jail.  Every moment of the day is still regimented, and trust me, it’s no picnic.

“In the beginning, my neighbor Xdiue and I hated each other.  Two of my brothers were killed in the war and another one lost his hands because of the Erbiums.  But one day, I was going into the shower as Xdiue was leaving and his towel fell off.  I started laughing, I couldn’t help it.  But then Xdiue swung at me with one of his right arms and I thought, ‘Oh boy, here we go’.  Instead he rips my towel off and starts laughing at me.  After that we started talking and we became friends.”

For Xdiue, an unusually large blue Erbium with dark orange eyes and the traditional four arms, it was no easier.  In jail for misuse of Royal Erbium property (a very serious offense in their species), he had been at Weber since the beginning.  “Frank’s right, it was tough.  And of course he told you the shower story.  But even after that it took a long time.  I lost friends and family in the war and it’s hard to let go of that.  You humans say that time heals all wounds and it’s true.  After a while I realized I shouldn’t hate him just because he is human.  Did smash my cousin’s lower skeleton in with a hammer?  No, so I can’t hate him.  But I can tell you one thing; he sure does talk a lot!” Xdiue said with a laugh, which to your reporter’s human ears sounded like whooping cough, if the baby was coughing up crude oil.  “But now we’re best friends.  He’s a better friend to me than most of other Erbiums in here.”

            To hear Tallisman explain it, the Neighborhood Drink came about because of boredom.  “One day there were about six us neighbors sitting around during free time and we were bored out of our minds.  There were three humans and three Erbiums and we had some rubbing alcohol, canned fruit, jet fuel, sugar and a few leaves of peppermint.  So we threw it all together in a big pot, stirred it up and had a sip.  The rest is history,” he said with a smile, the reflection of the pool water sparkled against his yellow teeth. 

            And for a while that was it.  The prisoners getting drunk on some homemade booze like inmates have done for centuries.  Tallisman laughs when thinking about the first days after the drink was created.  “The Erbiums couldn’t handle it.  But we taught those Erbiums how to drink, it was fun.  Did we fight?  Sometimes, but who doesn’t fight when they’re drunk?  After they learned to control their liquor, we taught them some drinking games.  And let me tell you, those (double expletive) Erbiums can drink!”

Xdiue is more than forthright when asked about the drink.  “Did it make me what to kill humans and bite their hands off?  Yes, at first.  But you have to remember, we never had alcohol where I’m from, it’s a purely human creation.  So the first time I drank it, I didn’t know how to act.  The rest of the neighbors calmed me down and I was able to enjoy it.”

            Unfortunately, the rest of the Erbium species does not have Tallisman and the rest of the ‘neighborhood’ to help them. 

            Six months after the drink was created, the recipe somehow leaked out and gradually began to spread through the Erbium planets.  Not used to drinking alcohol, Erbiums reacted strongly to the drink.  When Erbiums drank the alcohol they would experience extreme bouts of rage and would attack anything in sight.  At first the Erbium authorities considered the violence as an expected response to the domestic economic crisis in that part of their empire.  But Erbium authorities quickly abandoned this idea when a military unit on Citron 5 drank a large amount of the Neighborhood Drink and attacked a human cargo ship a half light year away.  The attack killed 500 humans and was the first hostile act since the signing of the peace treaty.

            Earth reacted hesitantly, forgoing force and opting for the diplomatic route.  Earth officials decided to launch an official inquiry into the attack while also lodging a formal complaint with the Erbium government.  Yet officials on Earth, who spoke anonymously since they did not have authorization to speak with the press, stated that Earth’s patience is running thin.  There have been four more attacks on human targets throughout the universe and Earth is becoming angry.  “Alcohol or not,” one official stated, “they are still attacking human targets and any government worth its salt will rise up and protect its citizens.”

            Meanwhile, the Erbium government is pleading for time to control this epidemic amongst its people. “There is a great disease spreading through our people right now and we need time to counteract to it.  We do not want another war,” an Erbium official stated, asking his name to be withheld, “But we will be prepared if the humans see fit to start one.”

            Back at the Web, the two friends and neighbors are saddened by what their drink has caused.  “All we wanted to do was get drunk and have a little fun.  We never wanted this.”

            When asked if another war would affect their friendship, Xdiue responded quickly, “Hell no!  We’ve become too good of friends to let a war light years away to get between us.”

            Asked if they had any other plans to create something else, Frank Tallisman answered with a smile, “I think we’ve done enough for awhile, but I might teach my friend here how to smoke.”

           One can only imagine the chaos that would ensue. 

The Protector — NYCMidnight Round 1

This is my first round entry for the NYC Midnight Short Story Competition

This was for heat 8 which was:
Genre: Ghost Story
Subject: Wedding Dress

My story is called “The Protector”

It was ranked as the #1 Finalist. Thanks for reading!

 

A cigarette dangled from Isaac’s mouth as he lay half asleep on his couch.  After five beers and two whiskeys he was dangerously close to the bliss of passing out.  An infomercial provided the background noise, and Isaac let the mundane banter lull him off to sleep.  He shut his eyes for a moment, letting the comfort of sleep wash over his exhausted body.  He opened his eyes rolled over on his side as the ash fell from his cigarette onto the floor, but he was too tired to care.  He inhaled again and rested his eyes for a longer moment. 

            The protector watched all of this intently.  He knew how all of this would play out.  The cigarette would fall from Isaac’s mouth which would slowly burn a hole in the cushion.  Then once the heat hit the couch’s stuffing it would ignite into a fireball, killing Isaac and then would burn down the entire apartment complex.  Quite an embarrassing way to die, the protector thought.  He counted to thirty and seeing that Isaac had not moved, he decided to begin.  The protector’s plan was simple:  first, remove the cigarette from the man’s mouth, then whisper into the sleeping man’s ear.  Simple and silent, it was an easy plan. 

 Focusing on his hand, the protector glided it close to Isaac’s lips, trying to grab the cigarette without waking the sleeping man.  Careful, he warned himself, be very careful.  On the first pass, the protector’s hand slid right through the cigarette.  Not much time, he warned himself as he prepared to try again.  With a pinching motion he grabbed the filter and pulled the cigarette straight from the sleeping man’s mouth.  As he pulled he realized the filter was stuck to the man’s upper lip.  In too deep now, he thought as he quickly yanked the cigarette from Isaac’s mouth, bringing with it a piece of skin. 

            The pain jolted Isaac from his sleep.  He saw the man standing above him holding a cigarette like a candle.  “Who the hell are you?”

            “Calm down kid,” the protector pleaded.

            “Get out of my house!” Isaac said as he kicked his legs at the man.  The kicks missed their mark and Isaac sprung to his feet and threw a right cross at the intruder.  His fist sailed right through the prowler.  Isaac backed away from the man.  “What the hell?”

            “Calm down, its ok.  I just want to put out this cigarette and then I will leave,” the protector said quietly. 

            “Is that mine?”

            “Yes, you fell asleep with it in your mouth.  You would have died.”

            “Wow,” Isaac said exasperated, “You’re saving my life.”

            “Yes.”

            “Are you my guardian angel?”

            “Not exactly.”

            “But you are saving my life?”

            “Yes.”

            “How can you be sure?”
            “I have common sense; you don’t go to sleep with a lit cigarette,” the protector said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. 

            Isaac stared at the man.  “How come I can’t punch you?”

            The protector sighed, “Because I am on a different plane of existence than you.”

            “Are you a ghost?”

            The protector hesitated, “Yes.”

            “But you look like you’re alive.”

            “That’s very kind,” the protector said with a twinge of annoyance in his voice. 

“So what’s it like being dead?”

            “You see, this is why I don’t like talking to the living,” he said throwing up his arms. 

            “What’s wrong with that question?” Isaac asked.

            “Listen kid, the only reason I am talking to you is because I have a message to deliver to you,” the protector said as he put out the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table, “Ok, Let’s get down to business,” the ghost said as he took something out of the back pocket of his grey slacks.  He looked at the invisible object and began to read.  “Isaac William Martin, age twenty six.  Semi-religious Lutheran, single, no girlfriend,” he said casting his eyes at Isaac, who just shrugged his shoulders.  “Works at a public relations firm and has for the last year and a half, specializing in pharmaceutical companies.  You like this work?”

“It’s a job,” Isaac responded apprehensively.  

“Wonderful,” the ghost said with little patience, “Now I don’t have much time, so let’s get down to business.  I need you to make a,” the ghost stared at the object in his hand, “W dress?  W dress?  Oh, a wedding dress.  You need to make a wedding dress.”

“I’m drunk, aren’t I?  This is some messed up drunken dream.  A wedding dress?”  Isaac fell lightly down on to the couch and stared at the ghost in front of him.  He had dark brown skin and his dark black hair that was combed in a part on the side of his head.  The ghost had dark black eyes that slid in perfectly with his clean shaven face.  The ghost wore dark gray slacks and a white shirt and a large silver wrist watch.  Isaac noticed that the ghost did not have any feet; instead he floated a few inches off the ground.

            “I’ve seen crazier things before than someone making a wedding dress; believe me,” the ghost said in an attempt to calm the man down. 

            “I bet you have-“ Isaac paused, realizing he didn’t know what to call the ghost before him.  “Wait, what’s your name?” Isaac interrupted.

            A smile graced the protector’s face, “Anand.”

            “Huh?”

            “Anand.  An-un.  It’s Indian.”

            “Like Native American?”

            “No, like the country.”

            “Are you from there?”

            “Lived there my entire life.”

            “Your English is very good, no accent at all.”

            “I speak every language perfectly now.  All of us do.  Learning how to read English, however, is still quite difficult.”       

            “You have to learn how to read?”

            Anand sighed as he looked back at his hand, ignoring the question.  “Well this is odd, it says I can tell you everything.  This really is a bizarre case.”

            “What are you talking about?  What are you looking at?”

            As soon as the words left Isaac’s mouth, an index card materialized in Anand’s hand.  “We’re very organized.  It has all relevant information on it about the subject, which in this case, is you.  Unfortunately, since things are changing so much we have to write things down, no computers up there.  This one was written by an American so it is very difficult to read.”

            “So you get assignments of people to save?”

            “Maybe it’s easiest if I start from the beginning,” Anand said pausing once more to look at the card again and shrugging his shoulders, he continued, “When you die, there is a day of judgment.  No one is free from sin.  To make up for those sins, you walk the earth helping people whose potential destiny needs a little push.  Once you help enough people, you get to retire.  This basically means you get to go to heaven.”

            “Potential destiny?  What’s that?”

            Anand sat down on the other end of the couch, facing Isaac.  “Potential destiny is what an ideal world looks like and it can be achieved if everyone works together and achieves their individual potential destinies.”

            “Like heaven on earth?”

            “If you will.”

            “So is Jesus your boss?”

            Anand let out a deep, hearty laugh.  “Jesus?  No, Jesus is not my boss.”

“So what is he?”

“Don’t get caught up in all the ins and outs of modern religion, it won’t help you.”

“No, I really want to know, why isn’t Jesus your boss?” Isaac asked forcefully. 

“Jesus is one of the four.”

            “You mean one of the three, the trinity.”

            “No, he is one of the four-Buddha, Moses, Jesus and Mohammed.  The four spirits who caused a recreation of the potential destiny.  When the world was created, G-d, for lack of a better word, created an idea for what a perfect world would be.  Those who died were brought in to help move this along.  But Buddha was a spirit who tried to show people how to achieve afterlife qualities in this life.  He wanted people to be able to see their own personal destiny.  Moses said he had the word of G-d, which he did, but it wasn’t supposed to be shared with people.  Jesus and Mohammed did the same thing, both tried to show people how to achieve heaven on Earth.  All of them had good intentions, but revealing the potential destiny is a big no-no.  Each time that these things occurred, it sent history off into such a tangent that the ideal world that G-d had created had to be recreated.  So He had to change to accommodate new realities.  I hear it is quite a bit of work.”

            “Why can’t the plan stay the same?”

            “You love Christmas, love it more than any other holiday.  What if Christmas doesn’t exist in heaven on earth?  Would you accept it as heaven?  Of course not.  Now multiply your little problem by ten billion and you might begin to see the problems of our work.”

            “So why don’t you help out governments to make peace with each other and stuff?”

            “Why don’t you?  It’s not an easy thing to do; dead or alive.  Sometimes we help people avoid major catastrophes or just help them cross the street safely.  It all adds up.  But we only know what is going to happen two weeks in advance, so it’s hard for us too.”

            Isaac nodded in understanding.   

            “So why do I have to make a wedding dress?”

            “Apparently, your contribution to the potential destiny is you must create a wedding dress.  This dress will allow others to realize their place in the world and they will achieve their purposes and so on.  You could be the start of a chain reaction that will set the world on the path to peace and harmony.  ”

            “With a dress?  I’m not a designer; I don’t even color coordinate my clothes.”

            “That doesn’t mean you don’t have the talent inside you to create one magnificent item; something that will resound through history.  Look at Harper Lee, she made one great piece of work and then vanished.  A lot of one hit wonders you hear on the radio, they had the abilities to create one piece of music that resonated with people.  Your one hit wonder just happens to be a wedding dress.”

            “I don’t even have a girlfriend, who would wear it?”

            “Maybe everyone.  You never thought about designing a wedding dress, which is probably why I am here.  But that doesn’t mean you can’t.  Trust me, I’ve seen this thing before.”

            Isaac rested his back against the arm of the couch, thinking about the photographs of his parents wedding and the dress his mother wore.  It was very mundane, too off white, he thought to himself.  Maybe a total recreation of wedding dresses as a whole, maybe that would resonate with people.  Isaac began to get excited at the potential creativity inside him, but then a very disconcerting thought crossed his mind.  “If you’re working for good, won’t there be other ghosts working to stop me?”

            “This is your potential destiny if you work towards it, no one can take it away.  And,” Anand leaned in towards Isaac, “There are no evil spirits or devil or anything like that.”

            “Then what about those stories about haunted houses or ghosts scaring people?”

            “Sometimes people don’t respond well to positive reinforcement.  Sometimes people need to be scared to get their life on track.”

            “Does it work?”

            “Usually.” 

            “Unbelievable,” Isaac said exasperated, “And my contribution is to create a wedding dress?  Wild.”

            “Not just any wedding dress, the most beautiful and elegant dress ever created,” Anand said with a smile.

            “So how long do I have to do this?”

             “Let’s just say for the next two weeks, you’re safe.  Anyways, there is another client I must go visit,” Anand said as he stood up. 

            “Don’t go!  I have so many other questions.  How are my grandparents?”

            Anand paused.  “Don’t ever worry about people who are dead.  This work makes us happy.  Happier than you can ever imagine,” he said sympathetically.

            “Well thank you for saving my life and for staying and talking to me.  I appreciate it.”

            Anand was about to answer when he cocked his head to the side.  “What?  What the hell are you talking about?” 

            “Um…” Isaac began.

            “Shut up kid,” Anand replied holding up his hand.  “It said wedding dress.  Look right there!”  Anand pointed to a place on the index card.  “That’s a ‘P’ and not a ‘D’?  You gotta be kidding me!  And you’re telling me that doesn’t say wedding?”  Anand ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. 

            “So I don’t have to make a wedding dress?” Isaac asked tentatively. 

            Anand waited a moment, listening to something that Isaac couldn’t hear.  Then he turned towards Isaac, “No you don’t have to make a wedding dress.  These yuppies that killed themselves after this financial mess want better press, better worldwide press.”  The ghost said in disbelief as he began to walk towards the wall, half disappearing.

            “Wait!  Then what is my destiny?”

“Write a story!”  The protector said angrily as he vanished into the wall.   But a moment later with a hauntingly echoic voice, the ghost added, “And make us look good!”