|
SKILORD
|
 |
Live free or Die
Mar 2002
time: 05:20
|
|
Deliver us from Evil
A Shorter Story than usual
My head pounded and I reached back to rub my neck solemnly, my eyes ached as the papers sat menacingly in front of me. I felt dizzy, even though I sat still.
I had to get out of here.
That was the thought that brought me back and focused me again, I had to get away, I had to escape. I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands and picked up my pencil again. I had to get out of here.
-
In the fourteen hundredth and thirty eighth year the Mongolian Hordes had tested their military prowess against a supposedly helpless Aztec army. Then mightiest Aztec ally had quickly reacted by crushing the Mongol Infrastructure with a trio of Carrier Groups, the Scandinavians ruled the waves and there were few potent arguments against their Carrier Groups. The Mongol Air force had stood up nobly, but it was humbled by the sheer mass of the Scandinavian air power. This brought the ancient Mongol ally, the Inca, into the conflict and they attempted an invasion of the Scandinavians with ancient ships, only finding themselves sunk to the deepest currents. The Scandinavians had summoned their ancient enemy, the Maya, into the war and the Maya soon began their attack. It was not long after this that diplomatic maneuvers had alienated the Scandinavians, who were never trusted as they had emerged alone from a distant continent, and brought the Scandinavians to make their peace and to leave the war. They took with them some of the finest scientists from the warring sides, which included the entire rest of the world.
-
“You spend night and day on that thing,” Hans would never understand my dedication, “You need to take a break, man.”
My head shook, “I need to get outta here, this is my last chance.”
“We’re safe enough here.”
I glared at him, my scarred eyes peering through his naivety, “I’ve seen the armies meeting on the battlefields. I’ve seen them make their horrible piles of bodies, I’ve seen ravenous soldiers pillaging from the men and women in the countryside, I’ve seen our fall from peace. We will never be safe again.”
Hans was quiet, he was a Scandinavian. Maybe a thousand of his countrymen had died fighting in the war, a thousand is a number that is at once too small to be impressive and yet too large to be personal. I had lost several million countrymen, and tried to make each number a person, tried to remember some detail about each casualty, men I could never have met and would never meet again.
The pencil touched the paper, and I felt dizzy again for a moment and my left hand was numb for a moment, sliding delicately to make each line.
-
I went to the worksite often, to see each piece being put together. I could only smile here even despite the now constant headache and the blurriness of my eyes, here I could see my escape in the making and even in the blurriness it gave me solace.
“Quakeo, its good to see you,” the foreman came up to me, holding out some design that I had sent him for a part of his construction, I pointed and explained, unfolding my dreams in the light of his attention.
He smiled and nodded, turning back to work, I watched the steel being welded and pounded together. The engines had only lately arrived from Bergen. We were ever so close. I would be free from this planet of blood and death all so soon.
-
“We launch in three days, Quakeo,” Hans smiled to me, “surely that makes you happy.”
I had to grin, “Of course it does.”
The sun was arching overhead, beginning its long and lonesome descent, leaving the moon to bask in its reflected glory and to share the night’s sky with every star, in three days my ship, my 'Ressurection' would be launched and I would be free at last.
-
My head was still pounding as I packed and planned feverishly, my house was virtually empty already, and I had been having to get my clothing out of the prepared suitcases for weeks. I lay in my bed awake every night, I would have every moment for sleep as soon as I was free and now I stared out into the stars and hoped and prayed.
-
I stepped forward onto the ramp that lead up to the ship, my ship, there was a crowd back there, people unafraid to remain on this planet as I took the coward’s greatest journey. My vision blurred suddenly and I forgot where I was. My foot set down unsure, my head began to thrash around, my eyes didn’t go clear and my left arm went numb, I fell.
I couldn’t feel my left side, my vision was gone. The darkness closed in.
I needed to get out of here.
-
On July 5th, 1444 Doctor Quakeotzilopotec, the famed Aztec scientist and the designer of the Spaceship ‘Resurrection’ died of a stroke on the ramp to the ship as he prepared to board. The warning signs had plagued him for months, and he had ignored them in his single-minded pursuit of his work. Though doctors would attempt to save him at the Angstrom Hospital of Trondheim he had passed on.
His ashes were ejected into space, in his Eulogy the famed Scandinavian Engineer, Hans Oesterd who had worked closely with the doctor and had designed the engines for the craft, spoke of his hopes of escape and mentioned that they had finally been achieved.
Last edited by SKILORD on 01-11-2004 at 09:36
|
01-11-2004 05:53
|
|