Flash: I Am Prophecy – Part 5

Caught with her hand on the door, nearly fully recovered from time lost at the closet, Vixen shoulders slumped and she turned.

“Up, up.” Her mother directed as she stood and made her way over.

Two minutes play room before a DNA test would be required.

Vixen raised her chin and squared her shoulders, thrusting forward her newly formed chest. Her breasts came out even further than she expected after months of hiding them in binding. She was going to have to be careful not to hit things with them, like she did with her suddenly too long arms and legs. Being clumsy was frustrating.

“Spin, there is a love.” Her mother’s first wrinkles stood out when she smiled. “My girl is all grown up. Not even the uniform can hide your beauty.”  She tapped the belt on her designer outfit, considering. “I’m going to see if a closet update is possible; the tailoring on that blouse isn’t quite right.”

Her mother always had appreciated appearance over brains even though Tamatha’s ability to memorize every script in a single read proved her brains outweighed even her famous beauty. Father would not have contracted a fool, no matter how beautiful or famous, though he admitted once he was still fairly infatuated with Tamatha despite their contact being dissolved for years.

Vixen returned the smile, forcing her face to react as it would have yesterday. Before she knew, before she understood. An aging starlet getting fewer and fewer parts every year, no matter how skilled an actress she was, would become depressed. Unfortunately her brains and acting ability would let her hide her mental state from the monitors until it was too late. The question was who would die first, the daughter by cleansing or the mother by suicide.

“Air kisses mom?” Inside the carefully constructed bored and indifferent but not quite indifferent exterior a teenager would have – acting was much harder than it looked – Vixen searched the future for paths to help her mother.

The hologram leaned in and kissed the air either side of the half-helm before whispering, “Tell Osantos you are not allowed to watch any more rated entertainment at his place.”

Dashing out the door sadly gratified by another day won with her mother, Vixen realized she hadn’t needed to use her Unnatural abilities at all. Lesson learned: physic abilities are not always needed.

Mental puzzles entertained the actress. Searching out information real-time without being obvious to her daughter had challenged her, not knowing Vixen could see exactly what she had done as soon as Tamatha had finished it. Maybe mom would even change the program for the kitchen. Vixen could not see the action clearly, her mother was less predictable than the wind. But today her parent will live; the poison purchased would stay in its box.

The question was, would Vixen? Would she survive the next hour, let alone the next day?

(words 486; first published 11/10/2019)

Flash: I Am Prophecy – Part 4

“Hey mom … pops.” Vixen hurried past her parental holograms on the way to the breakfast her mother had programmed. She frowned at the biscuit, soft boiled egg and clumps of tricolor berries. The breakfast hadn’t varied in four days. Past, present, future blinked. The countertop grounded her in the now until her timeline realigned.

Oh, momma, is it really that bad?

“Is that anyway to greet your mother?”

Taking the plate and eating utensils to the table from the nutrition dispenser, Vixen baited the woman on the other side of the world before sitting at the one real chair at the table. “You didn’t complain when Gina did it.”

Foxhole’s premiere female fatale of Length stories, one-shot entertainment video narratives between two and three hours often shown in group situations like the old movies of Earth, pulled out a chair and sat, the hologram program overlay transposing whatever milieu she was in to the kitchen in the personal module where Vixen lived. “Really, Environmental Fail? When did you manage to get past the age protections on that? … And Gina was killed in the next scene for not respecting her parents’ instructions.”

“Mom, it is only restricted from the concrete thinkers. I’ve been rated abstract for over five years.” Vixen shoveled food in, trying to make up for lost time.

Father’s hologram lacked interaction since he was still on circuit. He left a placeholder with a half-eaten plate of food in front of him, distracted from eating by the fan twisted open with whatever news or laws he was reviewing. Not far from how he would be if he was really there, though he would be demanding the half-helm be removed. “People need to see you more than you need to be connected,” he would say. Still, he was one to talk since he was never without a fan, snapping it open and close constantly to study esoteric laws from hundreds of worlds and outposts as his brain danced from one problem to another.

“It’s restricted to parental review for the non-citizen. And I know I have made certain all of the fictional parental review programs are locked, even if you father unlocked all the non-fiction.”

“Yeah mom, you need to talk to him about that. I stumbled over the Coord Outpost Full Recreate yesterday studying for today’s test.” Vixen shuttered dramatically while returning the plate for disposal. “Cannibalism, and other ick. Really didn’t need that in my head in vivid smell and space-time color. What the heck rating did that have? You were in it, so I know you got to know.”

“Citizen only, with verified mental stability of three or above.”  Tamatha sighed. “I am not going to win that argument, and neither are you. Not with your father. Now, let me see.”

Caught with her hand on the door, nearly fully recovered from time lost at the closet, Vixen shoulders slumped and she turned.

(words 488; first published 11/3/2019)

Flash: I Am Prophecy – Part 3

She had emerged by herself and no one knew. Nineteen minutes and counting. Reaching out a hand, she touched her mirror image. Twenty-two minutes since dawn.

 

The screams normally would have activated the sensor, but her recent growth spurt inflicted violent cramps and she often woke screaming. After the fourth false alarm, her father had signed off on temporarily removing her emergency room monitor rather than pay fines. He had grown a foot in a six-month period as a teenager, and her body had already added three inches in height since the class term began in addition to her micro-boobs inflating to something she was having trouble hiding in the school uniform.

 

Wait, she had been so confused she had forgot. Too many pasts, too many futures, she had forgotten her present.

 

Throwing aside her sleeping robe, Vixen activated the uniform program. Some classmates only ran the shaver once a week, letting their fuzz give hints of individuality. Blond, brunette, white. But Vixen had always tried to blend with the crowd.

 

Standing in the center of the room, Vixen waited as the preparer removed any hair from overnight and spray painted her body with today’s skin color. Dark skin, milk chocolate brown, she sighed in relief. The flush red and dark blue lines branching with every blood vessel and vein submerged under the artificial dye. … Tomorrow, no … tomorrow’s tomorrow will be white, nearly no change for her and her friend Osantos, extra pigment for people like Marty who would have virtually no color added today. Her reprieve was temporary, but enough for now.

 

While sorting through the infinite of near-time, trying to discover a path to stay undiscovered, Vixen nearly missed the closet opening with her day’s clothes laid out. On top of the white blouse and tailored plaid slacks was a binder. She hated that binder, but the Emperor’s Boarding School took uniform to a level unknown anywhere at anytime in the history of man. – Her face relaxed into a small smile, her first since waking, as she verified this bit of unverifiable common knowledge. – Blending, being invisible in the crowd of children, was even more important than normal so she willingly plucked the stretchy fabric from the pile.

 

The binder did not snap in place after being wrapped around her rib cage.

 

“Maker bless mom’s genes.” Vixen threw the clothing back into the closet in disgust, laughing a little as mundane habit pushed back survival fear. She hit the button for a remeasure, the third one that month. Stepping completely within the closet, Vixen did the “tailor tape dance” as the kids in school nicknamed it.

 

Put your arms up, put them down, bend over, stretch arms to the side, stand up, lunge forward. An extra five minutes to throw her morning schedule off. An extra five minutes of life. But being late activated monitors, checks, which she no longer could afford. The path she needed to stay on required her recover a minute somewhere, otherwise the school would run a full diagnostic when she reported.

 

Today, she just wanted to live through today.

 

New clothes were released, the binder replaced with a brassiere and the shirt cut to accommodate her increasingly generous shape. No more hiding her gender.

 

Throwing on her clothes, she grabbed the blessed half-helm and snapped it in place over her newly non-human eyes and still human ears before rushing out for family breakfast.

 

(words 572; first published 4/10/14; republished new format 10/13/19)

Flash: I Am Prophecy – Part 2

“Maker, no.” Her melodic voice restored danced upon her ears with new tones, making her sob. Between tears she begged, “I don’t want to die.”

 

And I don’t have to.

 

The future. She could see it a little. In time, she would become better. Time, she needed time. How to hide?

 

The room brightened as her morning wakeup chimed. Vixen hadn’t even noticed her room had still been in night-time mode.

 

The change had taken her at night. It never took people at night. Only adults. Only daytime. Only with others around. Only in the few days after space travel. And only on a planet. Everyone knew that. Which was why people either traveled all the time, like her father on his judge’s circuit, remaining in space for years on end. Or stayed put after immigrating to a new world. No one wanted to become an Unnatural.

 

Because mankind had decided they did not want Unnaturals around. The first one had tried to overthrow the empire, the second destroy it. Billions died. After that, every planet had a cleansing team to be activated the minute an emergence was detected. Located near the space port, since nearly all changes happened around that hub, after all space travel was a key trigger, the teams usually completed a cleansing within an hour of report. Which was important, as Unnatural grew more powerful every minute of existence.

 

She had emerged by herself and no one knew. Nineteen minutes and counting. Reaching out a hand, she touched her mirror image. Twenty-two minutes since dawn.

 

(Words 259; first published 4/5/2014; republished new blog format 10/6/2019) 

Flash: I Am Prophecy – Part 1

Tell Them I Am is Here Part One: I Am Prophecy

I am prophecy.

The words drifted into her head, Vixen’s first thought upon waking. She stretched and rolled over. A teenager, waking was the roughest part of her day. Dozens of thoughts danced in and out of her head. A melancholy breakfast with her mom, answers she studied for her Space Settlement History test, a battle in Trade Landing, new music from her favorite Taurusian band, the end of the Universe, befriending the next Emperor of Man. Some thoughts gray and misty, not likely to happen. Some nearly clear, like a memory from yesterday. A few confusing, emotions she had not been exposed to. Friendship with Osantos going in directions her body nearly understood, but felt uncomfortable. The kissing part … she tried to chase down the thought before the next group of words sliced through her mind, shattering her peace.

I am history.

Mankind, war and wonder, the first self-aware thought of an ape, the first killing in anger, looking down on the tiny cradle planet, the thousand ships leaping to the far reaches. Hate, pain, love, joy, reason, insanity, tears, laughter … each hit her, stabbed her. No misty thoughts, but real, fixed, unchangeable situations. Victory, horror … More than her young mind could handle. Pushing her further and further until something in her twisted. Snapped. Awoke.

I am now.

A final scream tore from Vixen as she threw her blankets back and sat up. She had been screaming for some time.

“No, …no,” her ruined voice pleaded as she jumped off the mattress and ran to the mirror.

The reflection showed black eyes, pupils expanding to swallow green irises then the surrounding white. Streaks of color, light, danced back and forth between her slightly slanted eyes as they became a deeper dark than night. Veins went from a mild green to deep blue as her body optimized oxygen usage creating a stark red and blue map vivid against her cream and peaches complexion. Vixen’s hyperventilation quickly dropped to a rate not found among homo sapiens.

“Maker, no.” Her melodic voice restored danced upon her ears with new tones, making her sob. Between tears she begged, “I don’t want to die.”

(words 363, first published 4/4/14; republished new blog format 9/1/19)