Posted in Outrageous Lies and Tales

Forty Feet Below

Image result for wooden block and tackle outside

Forty Feet Below

He had been both lucky and cursed the day of the crash.  The ship had buried itself so deep on this small remote island that none of the natives noticed it.  It had taken him a long time to dig his own way out from the wreckage, luck because he should have been dead.  Cursed because with each clump of dirt he moved the certainty that the ship would never leave this planet grew. His wonderful organic ship was dead but the prisoner it was transporting was not.  The prisoner he left exactly where it was, deep in the ground secure in the stasis chamber.

He looked toward the sky knowing that is where rescue should have come from, but after a hundred or so revolutions  around  this star he knew it would  not be coming.  He still had an oath to live up to and keeping the prisoner secure thus keeping this planet safe and by extension the rest of the galaxy from the monster’s rampage was how he would fulfill his oath.

This place was cold and strange and if he disliked it then the prisoner would hate it.  Of course the prisoner hated everything.  That hate had fueled  a wide swath of killing and destruction across the galaxy before he had been captured.  After it had been determined that the creature could not be reasoned with or changed a prison had been constructed for this prisoner, balanced on the event horizon of a collapsing star making escape impossible.  It was on the way to this specially constructed prison that the crash has happened.

He had worked hard to blend in with the new local population and bought supplies and materials with scavenged parts of his ship and with those crude tools he had further entombed the prisoner, even harnessing the ocean in this simple one person penal institution. He patted the bare earth one more time with his shovel, the prisoner was as secure as he could make it.  The monster was so deep now no sane creature would ever dig here without a good reason.  He had even harnessed the cold, salty ocean in a manner to keep the prisoner deep underground.

He looked up at the final tool that was to be removed to erase all evidence of his efforts here.  A primitive block and tackle that he had been using to place the final barriers in place, obstructing access to the vault he had constructed below.  He had to make one more trip back to the mainland to retrieve the beacon he would place high in the tree.  The last remnant of his ship, would be a safeguard to warn other travelers what was buried below, in addition it would send out a harmless tone that would make this weirdly uncomfortable to the local sentient life forms.  Once the organic beacon was in place he would take the pulley system down.  The beacon would be come part of the tree and eventually part of the island itself, giving a steady warning to stay away from this place.


“Did you hear about the accident in Chester?” Daniel McGinnis said pulling on the oars.

“You mean the one with that old man getting killed when that freight wagon broke loose.”

“Yeah they said he was crushed flat and there is not enough left to bury.”  Vaughn said jumping into the conversation.

“Didn’t he live out this way somewhere?”

“No one seemed to know much about him, he was crazy hermit.”  Smith added.

The three boys stopped their conversation as they landed on the shore and McGinnis lead them to what he wanted to show them.  He had convinced them to bring along the shovels but he had not told them why.  “There it is.”  He said pointing to the branch.

“Strange place for a block and tackle.”  Vaughn stated and Smith nodded in agreement.

“And look underneath it.” McGinnis said excitedly standing directly underneath the block and tackle.

Vaughn and Smith looked down to where their friend was standing.  The soil was soft as though the ground had recently been filled in.   “I think we have found Captain Kidd’s buried treasure.” McGinnis said pointing down with his shovel.

Smith and Vaughn looked around as if saying the pirate’s name would make him appear.

McGinnis looked at his friends.  “Can you think of another reason anyone would be out here digging on Oak Island.”


A story I wrote a couple of months ago and submitted to a writing contest.  Today I was notified it was not chosen, so I can release it to my dear readers.  



Posted in Outrageous Lies and Tales

Class Catherdal

Class Cathedral

“The silver rocket ship moved thru the inky blackness of deep space with a speed that was frightening to behold. ”
“Drivel, pure drivel.” The chef read across the screen over his crewmen’s head.
“Hey that is private.”
“Tsk, tsk young Bobby Joe, no one would will ever confuse you for Faulkner, you may share a common birthplace but your lack of education and deplorable dull wittedness marks you as never rising above the station you are in now.”
The young man muttered under his breath, turned off the computer screen and stomped away.
The chef laughed out loud and turned and found himself face to face with the Captain. “I am sorry Captain Lockstone I did not hear you enter, is there something I can get for you.”
“You really shouldn’t pick on Bobby Joe like that he is a good kid.”
“Nonsense Captain, Bobby Joe will soon forget the teasing, he will go to his cabin and put on some of that god awful county music about trains and beer and my insult will dissipate like the morning mist.”
Captain Lockstone just shook his head at the chef, and he was a full chef hired by the space agency from the Cordon Bleu for this long range exploration of deep space. He was a pain in the butt, if he had not also been a certified linguist he never would have made it onto the ship. Captain Lockstone had been warned before they left the solar system the Chef who could cause personality difficulties, so far the space psychologist had been right on the money. “Captain’s prerogative, just came down to see if there was any of that Jamaican Blue still left.”
“I am sorry Captain, that particular batch of beans has been exhausted, at least until we hit the resupply ship on the way back.”
“Oh well, I drink too much coffee as it is.”
The chef spoke up. “Any transmissions from the fourth planet yet.”
“No, nothing. We just launched a probe that will start sending back imagery soon.”
“Well I hope this planet is as interesting as the Persledes, they were a fascinating and noble race.”
“Yes, a nice first contact was made and firm foundation of diplomacy was laid,” The Captian said just looking around the kitchen. ” well good night Cooky, see you in the morning.”
The chef just growled softly, people called him Cooky just to annoy him, now the Captain was doing it.
The captain turned and grinned, he probably should not have used the nickname but he could not help himself, the comment about the Persledes irked him. They were by far the most boring and dull alien race he had ever met, his diplomatic patience was worn thin by their constant calls for admiration of art and beauty in every single phase of the meeting had tested his patience. The captain enjoyed art as much as the next guy, unless of course the next guy was the Chef, who took a deep, perhaps even a perverse pleasure in pointing out his own pedigree in art appreciation to whomever would listen. Due to his linguistic skills he had sat at the table with the Persledes and appreciated the hell out of the art they presented, his second officer had calculated that the Chef had extended the formal diplomatic meetings by at least fifty percent longer than they needed to be with his constant references and comparisons to Earth’s art and history. The Captain had been tempted to leave him behind on Persleds Prime, but he needed a chef and command looked down on marooning crew members on distant planets no matter how arrogant and obnoxious they were.

“Those towers are magnificent greater than the ones at Notre Dame.”
“I have only seen the field, I guess the towers are somewhere else on campus.”
The Chef looked down his long nose at Bobby Joe. “I was referring to the cathedral Bobby Joe.” When he got a blank look he added. “In Paris.” When there was not an automatic recognition he continued. “Paris, France.”
They had been looking at the view screen in the dining room were some of the first images broadcast from the flyover were viewed by the entire crew while eating. It was just then that the Captain Lockstone walked in.
“Oh Captain any oral transmissions from the planet yet?” The Chef asked.
The Captain continued his walk to the large coffee urn. “No Cooky not yet.” The Captain filled his mug and walked over to the table where Bobby Joe was seated and stood next to the Chef. “Beautiful, from our best measurements they are over a hundred meters tall, made out of some sort of glass or crystal.”
“They must be a truly enlightened people to be able to build such towers look at those flying buttress.”
Bobby Joe snickered. “Buttress.”
The Captain laughed silently as he walked out of the room.

The working group had spent hours with the tapes and translations that were picked up from the planet and the Chef was there as well. He had not added much to the discussion, not being the most gifted linguist on the trip. It was after the Chef had gone back to his kitchen that a breakthrough occurred, and as the Automatic Translation Device gathered more knowledge from the short transmissions coming from the planet, and the device achieved a higher and higher percentage of fluency. It was when the Artificial Intelligence in the device claimed a ninety-five percent fluency that the diplomats on board decided to make first contact.
The Chef and Bobby Joe were sitting in the empty dining room watching the first face to face meeting between the Captain and his team with the newly programed ATD.
“I anticipate another great exchange of culture, philosophy and copious discoveries of their finer arts. ” The Chef said in a lofty tone. “Did you see them so tall and regal looking, such serious expressions on their faces.”
Bobby Joe just rolled his eyes. Then he noticed the clothing the aliens were wearing, one strap on each of their clothing seemed to be dangling, it made him think of something back home but then his thoughts were interrupted.
“Those cut glass basilica are all over the planet, this valley they are meeting in has one that is a particularly amazing example, they must be monuments to learning and knowledge. ”
“Shhh, they are about to start.”
“I am Captain James Lockstone and in the name of the people of Earth I greet you in peace and friendship.”
There was a pause and the translation was made with the ATD. Then the first alien said a couple of words, and another pause as the ATD went to work.
“Well Howdy, it is great you folks showed up as we was about to have a pork roast and the beer is cold, so you are welcome to stay a while.”
The Chef’s mouth just fell open.
Captain Lockstone quickly turned towards his diplomatic and linguistic staff, who were all furiously checking on the ATDs. Bobby Joe watched the looks cross the faces after a few seconds and furious whispering between the Captain and the head diplomat. The Captain continued after a few minutes.
“Well that would be very nice, thank you for the invitation.”
The alien replied quickly after the translation. “Twernt nothing pardner, what’s ours is yours, heck with you folks here maybe we can put another room on the building.”
Captain Lockstone replied. “The building? Another room? I am sorry I don’t understand.”
The ATD was getting quicker with each exchange and the alien pointed to the large crystal structure on the hill nearby. “Sure, when we get enough empties we add on to the place, it is almost as much fun building those things as it is emptying the building materials.”
“The building materials I don’t understand?”
The alien paused and titled his head in almost a human like manner. “Yeah those things are made with empties.”
Bobby Joe started laughing before anyone else.
“Yeah empty beer bottles.”

My first original short story in a while, I have been so busy working on the second story in the Outfitters Narrative, Q Runner, that I just was not inclined to write anything else. Then when I did get off track from Q Runner I seemed to find myself drawn to my World War I project. But enough about me, so what did you think of this little diversion, written by me. 🙂