evolution had taken an unexpected leap in an interstellar nursery.
The returning invaders inside the armada of one-way-only spaceships were an outwardly distressing twin to the buzzing, biting terrestrial insects, but man-sized. In the tropical regions, the swiftly reproducing spacesquitoes had eaten themselves out of prey and had died. Like an unexpected ending, only the cooling days of autumn in the temperate regions and the ultimate frost of winter had saved what was left of pest-shocked mankind. The remaining aliens had retreated deep underground, for they and their progeny were equally victims of their own biology. Yet their limitation gave their food source time to multiply.
A gust rattled the window pane. Miranda shivered. The fattened children, juicy with virus-plagued blood, drugged and scattered like seeds in a field, would feed the gluttonous emerging females during the spring lust. But all of their newly fertilized eggs would rot under the biological assault she had created.
A clock chimed softly four times. She reached for a kettle to keep a ritual to prop up her sanity. The Women Who Hunted had provided the specimen for her to study and manipulate, but the game may have always been lost.
One nagging doubt made it all seem futile and added to the insomnia born of the sacrifices she must commit: What if these were engineered beings created by a superior race to scour a world clean? These spacequitoes exceeded the spiracle-bound limitations of any insect found on Earth, through morphological mutations too precise for nature. But their victories over mankind came from their numbers, not their intelligence. If her hypothesis were true, why hadn’t their masters already come to finish the cleansing of Earth?
A bit of blue poked out of the snow. Could this be the crocus of a final spring?
Miranda sipped her tea.
Marianne G. Petrino (aka Marianne G. Petrino-Schaad) was born in the Bronx, NY, in 1955, and that single fact has shaped her entire life. She has survived too many professions to count. She currently resides in Arlington, VA, with her husband and her cat, and enjoys a freelance lifestyle writing novels and pursuing voice acting.
[email protected] http://www.ninetiger.net
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24.
Moments to Remember
W.A. Fix
It was one of those moments that imprints into the collective memory of an entire family. Everything was perfect. A full moon reflecting on the lake, clouds floating like puffs of smoke on a light breeze, and there were so many stars one truly felt the awesome vastness of space. The mountain air was crisp and held a chill that the campfire offset. The four sat around the fire in silence enjoying the warmth that came from the moment, more than the fire. Wayne poked at the coals with a green sapling that he had used earlier to cook his hot dogs. Without warning, another sapling invaded his space and pushed his away from the fire. He looked up to see Kathy, his thirteen-year-old daughter, smiling and ready to dual for ownership of his spot in the coals.
“You little creep, that’s my spot,” said Wayne.
She pointed the flaming tip of her sapling at him and said, “On guard.” As she squinted and set her jaw with determination, they touched swords briefly, chuckled, and then went back to tending their own section of the flames.
“Mom, can I have a Coke?” said Billy
“No, honey, it’s too close to bedtime,” said Jennifer. When she saw the frown on his face, she added, “Sweetie, that’s too much caffeine and sugar, this late. If you’re thirsty, there is plenty of bottled water.”
“Knock, knock. . . , hello! I’m sorry to bother you folks.” The woman entered the campsite from the dense forest that surrounded them. “I’m so sorry, but I got separated from my friends and it started getting cold. Do you mind if I just warm up?” She walked up to the fire and extended her hands, palms out, over the flames.
Surprised by the