The Robot From Beijing (Inktober, Saturday, October 3)

For Inktober, Saturday, October 3, 2020. Prompt word: "bulky." Tuckerization: Brendan Loewen

The Robot From Beijing

by Alan Loewen 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Brendan didn’t know if his preferred excuse for visiting Howard Bosley was because he enjoyed the odd stream-of-consciousness conversations or Howard’s unique selection of exotic whiskeys ordered from around the world. Whatever the reason, Brendan decided to visit his eccentric friend after receiving a phone call inviting him to Howard’s home. Howard had informed him that he wanted Brendan to help him unwrap his newest acquisition.

Howard’s home was more like a mansion, part of an estate he had inherited from his late parents. Both father and mother had been lawyers and left their only child a comfortable residence as well as an endowment that assured a comfortable lifestyle, exotic liquors included.

Howard answered the doorbell and ushered Brendan into what used to be the library of Howard’s parents. There, on the floor, lay a large, bulky wooden crate eerily reminding Brendan of a coffin.

“That’s a lot of whiskey, don’t you think?” Brendan asked.

Howard rolled his eyes. “It’s not whiskey. It’s something far more fascinating. Help me open it. I wanted you to be the first to see it.”

With the help of a crowbar, the two men opened the crate to reveal wads of packaging, newspapers all in Chinese. Eventually, the contents were shown to be a humanoid robot about five feet tall.

“What is this?” Brendan asked.

Howard looked at him with a smug expression. “It’s my newest acquisition. A robot with the latest in artificial intelligence.” He grabbed the instruction booklet taped across the robot’s chest.

Howard grimaced. “Definitely written by somebody who had English as a second language. Help me get this thing out of the box.”

With a few grunts, they had the thing lying on the floor. Howard thumbed through the manual. “Okay, it’s evidently charged from the factory. Let’s see what this thing can do.” He read a little further. “Voice-activated? Okay. Robot, stand up!”

Both men jumped back as the robot sat up and slowly stood, its eyes glowing green.

“I don’t know, Howard,” Brendan said. “I don’t know if this thing is safe.”

Howard laughed. “Worrywart! It’s programmed with Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics. It can’t do me any harm.” With that, he went to the large oaken desk, opened a drawer, and took out a pistol.

“Um … You know what?” Brendan said, “I believe you. Let’s not do anything rash.”

Howard shook his head in derision. “Let me show you.” He turned to the robot. “Take this pistol.”

With a smooth motion, the robot reached out and took the proffered firearm.

Howard winked at Brendan and turned once again to the robot. “Robot, I order you to shoot me.”

The robot promptly shot him.

Minutes later, Howard and Brendan cowered behind the door of Howard’s bedroom, listening as the robot rampaged through the mansion, breaking down doors in search of them.

Howard clutched his side where the bullet had grazed him. “I will never buy anything from China ever again,” he muttered. He patted his pocket. “Great. I left my cell phone downstairs. You?”

Brendan checked his phone. “No signal. You live too far out in the boonies.”

Down the hall, they heard a door shatter as the robot drew nearer in its search.

“Okay,” Howard said. “We’re on our own. Here we are in my second-floor bedroom with no weapons.” He turned to Brendan. “What do you suggest?”

Quickly, Brendan went to Howard’s king-sized bed and threw back the covers. “Open that window,” Brendan said. “And be quick about it.”

Brendan took the sheet, cover, and counterpane and tied them together. Securing them to the bed’s poster, he threw the improvised rope out the window. “You first,” he said.

With a groan, Howard eased himself out the window and, clinging for his life, made his way gracelessly to the ground below. Losing his grip five feet above the ground, his fall was broken by an arborvitae.

Seeing his friend safe on the ground, Brendan took out his lighter, triggered a flame, and held it to some paperbacks on a nightstand.

Ten minutes later, Howard and Brendan watched the mansion as flames consumed it.

“You know,” Howard said, “the difference between you and me is that if I see a fly on the wall, I roll up a newspaper, and the fly is dead. You, on the other hand, take a cannon and blow the entire wall away.”

“True,” Brendan nodded, “but the fly is dead.”

A Wisp of a Cloud (Inktober, Friday, October 2)

For Inktober, October 2, 2020. Prompt word: "wisp." Tuckerization: Ryan Laughman

A Wisp of a Cloud 

by Alan Loewen 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Ryan watched the tree line for the cloud. It was hot, muggy, and windless, but he had learned the day before that the cloud moved independently of the wind, and yesterday’s carnage had proved it. Around him lay the ruins of an old automotive junkyard in the middle of nowhere. Behind him lay the still form of a middle-aged man securely tied to an old, rusted carcass of a 1973 Pinto.

With a last look at the horizon, Ryan spun about and knelt before the man. Firmly, Ryan slapped his cheeks. “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” he taunted.

With a groan, the man stirred and shook his head. Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise, and began fighting his bonds.

“Sorry, Mr. Pyre, but when I tie a knot, it stays tied.”

Pyre glared at Ryan. “So you survived yesterday?” he asked.

“Barely,” Ryan sneered. “Two of my work crew didn’t.” He stood and dusted off the knees of his jeans. “All this because I shut down your little scam?”

Pyre sneered. “Scam. You call my little pet a scam?”

“Well, I’ll give you a point there. It seems you have a little more credibility than what I assumed. Anyway, the police are still looking for you. You shouldn’t have stolen my aunt’s retirement.”

Pyre shrugged. “Your aunt gave it to me willingly. And you just said I have some actual power. Now, I recommend you let me go.” He nodded his head toward the far horizon. “My rescuer’s appeared.”

Ryan looked up to see a small cloud, just a white wisp of condensation moving across the treetops toward them. He turned around to face Pyre.

“I’m not running. I’ve decided to try an experiment. Yesterday when that cloud came into the parking lot, it made a beeline for me, but two of my people were in its way.” He involuntarily shuddered. “I saw what it did to them.”

Pyre’s eyes widened when Ryan took out a knife and flipped it open. “Relax,” Ryan said. “I need you alive.” He quickly cut the one rope that bound Pyre to the car. “Now, stand up.”

Ryan roughly made his prisoner stand and walked him ahead to a spot of dirt bare of wreckage. “Now you just stay there and let’s see if it’s willing to go through you to get to me.”

Pyre spun about his face contorted with contempt. “Idiot! I’m its master! It is only interested in you.”

Ryan shrugged. “Yeah, I thought as much.” He reached in his hip pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Thanks for the keys to your home. I figure that book you got in your study, the one you read to your so-called disciples might have some info on this thing.” Ryan looked up. The small cloud had cleared the treetops and was descending toward them. “Anyway, I know I can outrace it on my motorcycle. It’s not that fast. I’ll get to your home well before you and your pet. That is if you don't get eaten first.”

Pyre looked nervously up at the descending cloud. “Tell you what,” he said. “Let me go, and I’ll dispel it for you.”

Ryan shook his head in the negative, and Pyre quickly began to run. There was a loud bang, and Pyre fell to the ground, his right knee a bloody ruin.

Ryan slipped his Glock 43 back under his jacket into his waistband. “One of the people your cloud turned to bloody mist yesterday was my best friend. No deals.”

Looking up, the wisp of a cloud was now just twenty yards away. Ignoring Pyre’s screams, Ryan moved into position so the cloud would encounter the wizard first. 

“Come and get me,” Ryan said calmly.

Fifteen minutes later, Ryan rode his motorcycle away from the junkyard. Behind him, a bloody stain was all the remained of cloud or wizard.

To Ryan’s relief, without Pyre the cloud dissipated, and Ryan sped toward the wizard’s home. His aunt told him Pyre’s grimoire was in Latin, a language he was unfamiliar with. Still, Ryan was a quick learner, and man-eating clouds could be a handy tool in the right hands as long as one didn’t stand between the cloud and the intended victim. And who knew what other interesting secrets waited to be revealed.

Ryan smiled to himself as he flew down the rural road.

Behind him, a small wisp of a cloud slowly followed.

Leviathan (Inktober, Thursday, October 1)

For Inktober, October 1, 2020. Prompt word: "fish." Tuckerization: Louis Williams

Leviathan

by Alan Loewen

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

“Looks like you don’t have your sea legs yet, Tristian,” Louis called from the bow.

His friend growled in response as he held onto the deck railing. “If you weren’t paying for this trip, I would have stayed at home. I’m just glad I’m keeping my breakfast down. It would help if the waves weren't so choppy.”

Louis laughed. “Admit it. You’re having the time of your life. Just stand with your legs further apart, and your knees bent. You don’t want to go overboard here, or you might end up as fish food.”

Louis had wanted to rent a yacht more massive than the 92-foot Viking, but he had to take what was available. The armored boat could still do 32 knots, and though it was small enough to feel the motion of the waves, it was suitable for the job. And Louis was determined to give Tristian a good time and stay safe on top of it.

He turned and shouted up at the bridge. “Captain, are we there yet?”

The captain gave a thumb up through the cockpit window and turned to speak to his two crew members. Five minutes later, the two men began dumping buckets of chum from the stern, staining the waves crimson in the boat's wake.

The yacht turned about in minutes and remained still with its engine idling. One of the crew members came forward. “Stand clear,” he said, “We’re raising the guns.”

There was a vibration Louis felt through his soles as two sets of sliding doors on the deck slid back and two guns armed with harpoons rose and locked into place. The five-foot-long titanium harpoons were each tipped with large blades designed to penetrate scales and flesh and stay imbedded.

The crewman mentioned Louis to stand behind one and motioned for Tristian to man the other. “Now,” the crewman said, “we play the waiting game.”

They did not wait for long.

Within ten minutes, the leviathan breached the surface of the water, the sunlight shining brightly off its armored back. Louis and Tristian both gasped at its sheer size, at least twice as long as the yacht.

“Ach!” the crewman said, “It’s a small one. Do you still want it?”

“Yes! Louis said, yelling in his excitement.

“Okay,” the crewman said. “Remember all the practice you had on land.” He slapped Tristian on the shoulder. “You’re going first. Remember to hit the tail end. He’ll instinctively dive. Mr. Williams, when he breaches again, you shoot, and then we’ll go for a spirited ride as he drags us along as he runs until he tires. Now here he comes.”

The creature broke the surface, red water sluicing from its jaws. There was a loud report as Tristian fired. The harpoon zipped through the air striking the fish in its side. Immediately, it dived.

“Stand back and let me reload,” the crewman said. “Mr. Williams, stand ready.”

However, the creature did not breach again. Instead, the line on Tristian’s harpoon went slack.

Louis’ jaw dropped at the sheer speed the line cut through the water toward the yacht. Urgently, he tried to scream that the beast was headed for them.

It never broke the surface but impacted the bow with a collision that sent the crewman and Tristian over the side. Only Louis’ iron grip on the gun’s triggers kept him stable. As if he stood far away, he heard himself scream, “Men overboard!”

The harpoon line cut through the water again as the creature swam away from the boat and then reversed as the great fish swam back to the yacht … and the men floundering in the water.

Louis tried to breathe normally, and the creature breached, straight for the two men in the water. For a moment, when the fish was only 20 yards away from the boat, Louis felt time suddenly stand still. He looked deep into its large, black eye behind its open jaws, a creation of silver scales, fangs, and hate.

He felt the gun shudder in his hands, and the harpoon impaled the large black eye.

*

An hour later, the boat headed back toward the harbor, the great fish lashed alongside. Down below, Tristian sat in dried clothes and lots of hot coffee while above, Louis stared at his prize.

He would not be able to take it back to Earth, of course. It’s sheer size notwithstanding, there were strict protocols about what could be transported between parallel universes. Still, he and Tristian would each receive a huge scale of the leviathan’s body sealed in Lucite as their trophy.

Louis smiled to himself. He heard there was one universe where he could hunt cosmic horrors with tanks.

He wondered if Tristian would be up for it.

A Venture into Inktober

Because I don't have the brains of a mud stump and only half the common sense, I will be participating in Inktober.

I participated two years ago and ... well, let's just say I think I broke something in my head.

Anyway, these words are story prompts for each day, and with my schedule, it'll be flash fiction.

If you want tuckerized into a story, leave your name in the comments. And tuckerization means I use your name in the story. The character will not be you, just using your name.

And, no, volunteers cannot pick the word. I will assign those. As of this writing, I have randomly assigned 16 names to the first 16 words. I still have 15 openings.

Any takers?

1. Fish - L. Williams (Leviathan)
2. Wisp - R. Laughman (A Wisp of a Cloud)
3. Bulky - B. Loewen (The Robot From Beijing)
4. Radio - B. L. Laughman (The Radio)
5. Blade - R. Parks (The Blade, Sourusutīrā)
6. Rodent - W. Lowe (The Rats in the Walls)
7. Fancy - T. Chastain (She Walks in Beauty)
8. Teeth - T. Ross (Of Saber-Toothed Cats and Corporate Espionage)
9. Throw - M. Harder (The États-Unis de France)
10. Hope - M. Schmid (Hope's Halloween Party)
11. Disgusting - C. Ross (Alice)
12. Slippery - C. Palmer (The Lake of the Beast)
13. Dune - F. Jones (Under the Dunes of Mars)
14. Armor - T. Stahl (The Last of the Big Game Hunters)
15. Outpost - J. Loewen (Outpost on Ceres)
16. Rocket - J. Smith (Pocket Monsters)
17. Storm - S. D. Jones (Driving the Storm)
18. Trap - D. Martin (The Backrooms)
19. Dizzy - S. Wilson (Sarah Wilson's Farm)
20. Coral - M. Wilson (Coral)
21. Sleep - E. Hinkle (Library of the Labyrinth)
22. Chef - C. Williams (The Siren's Dice Cup Tavern)
23. Rip - N. Weaver (Happy Little Accidents)
24. Dig - J. Henley (The Holy Well of Saint Blodeuwedd)
25. Buddy - M. Alleman (The Cave)
26. Hide - C. Pellegrino (I Have Seen the Future and the Future is Diesel, Part 2)
27. Music - M. Wilson (The Piper at the Gates of Dawn)
28. Float - B. Joe Palmer (Some Would Call it Worthless)
29. Shoes - C. Cahill-Landis (The Library)
30. Ominous - G. Salter (Fogbound)
31. Crawl - M-P Hinojos

Paleomythic: Role-Playing in the Age of Stone and Sorcery

Role-playing games (also known as tabletop games or RPG's) have always been a favorite activity of mine, having played Dungeons and Dragons way back in the late '70s before it became cool. Since then I have branched out into Traveller and Call of Cthulhu with small asides to The Morrow Project and It Came From The Late, Late, Late Show.

Unfortunately, due to progressive hearing loss, my role-playing days have gone to the wayside much to the chagrin of the small cadre of faithful players I have accumulated over the years. Yet, that may soon all change.

Having been to an audiologist, I am in the process of getting hearing aids and my hope is that by the end of September/early October, I will have raised enough money ($7,000.00) to purchase them and end my exile from indulging in one of my favorite past times.

Recently I purchased a new RPG that came out of Osprey Publishing. Paleomythic: A Roleplaying Game of Stone and Sorcery is a beautifully illustrated, but bare-bones role-playing system, that emphasizes play and storytelling over rules. With a nod more toward Conan the Barbarian than Lord of the Rings, the advertising blurb for the book says:

Paleomythic is a roleplaying game of grim survival and mythical adventures in the land of Ancient Mu, a harsh prehistoric world full of mysterious ruins and temples to explore, huge and terrible creatures that roam and spread fear across the land, and nefarious mystics and sorcerers who plot dark schemes from the shadows. It is a world of biting cold winters, of people hunting and foraging to survive, and tribes that wage relentless war.

The game is clearly meant to be fantasy, but it does give a casual nod to archeology, especially the late Pleistocene era, about 12,000 years ago.

And as I work my way through the Paleomythic RPG book, I'm fascinated they missed one fascinating aspect of the time era they selected. In the late Pleistocene era, modern man (Homo sapiens) could theoretically have rubbed shoulders with "hobbits" (Homo floresiensis), and "dwarves" (Homo neanderthalensis) and if I can stretch the timetable a little, I can even introduce "orcs" (Homo erectus). I think this would have made J. R. R. Tolkien squeal with glee.

More and more I am becoming excited to be able to rejoin my role-playing gang and in our imaginations plumb the mystical and mythical worlds of the Pleistocene. 

Cinematic Interpretations of H. P. Lovecraft's The Colour Out of Space

2012 illustration by Ludvik Skopalik

Written in March, 1927, H. P. Lovecraft's novella, The Colour Out of Space, is a science fiction/horror tale about a meteorite that lands on the Gardner farm near its well. Scientists from Miskatonic University travel to the isolated farm in the Massachusett hills to discover the meteorite has strange qualities and is shrinking. They find a clear globule they pop by accident releasing a color that lies outside the known spectrum. The well becomes infected and the water becomes insidiously poisonous.

Over the next three years, the vegetation around the farm including the animals and eventually even Nahum Gardner, his wife, and his three sons become affected by the residual effects of the Colour.

The Colour appears to be something akin to a living being inimical to terrestrial life and if you wish to read the story in its entirety, it is available here free and legal.

Over the years, there have been a number of attempts to bring the story to the silver screen, some more effective than others.

The first attempt was made in 1965, when Die, Monster, Die, directed by Daniel Haller, was released in both the United States and Great Britain. Starring Boris Karloff, Nick Adams, and Susan Farmer, the plot is based only loosely on Lovecraft's story.

The existing plot point is a radioactive meteorite lands near the mansion of Nahum Witley who discovers it has strange effects on plants and animals. Unwisely bringing it into his house, the residents began to mutate as well with predictable results and all does not end well except the hero managing to escape with Witley's beautiful daughter.

Critics did not have a lot of praise for the film, but it still deserves a fair following from those fans of early horror films, especially fans of Boris Karloff. I personally found the story interesting enough to maintain my attention and the final transformation of Witley was passably horrifying by the level of special effects available during that time period.

The second film to attempt bringing the Color to the big screen was The Curse (1987) starring Wil Wheaton (Star Trek: The Next Generation) and Claude Aikens who plays the role of Nathan Crane, the stand-in for Lovecraft's Nahum Gardner. Unlike Gardner, Crane is a caricature of a religious zealot who exists only to make life miserable for Wheaton's Zack. As the entire family is composed of nothing more than bullying hypocrites, they exist only to die in hideous ways and one could care less.

Still the story is more true to Lovecraft's original story, but in my humble opinion it is not as entertaining as Die, Monster, Die in spite of the latter's shortcomings.

I confess I have no praise at all for Colour From the Dark (2008), an offering from Italian director Ivan Zuccon. This time the color is not an interstellar wanderer but is just something that dwells within the earth and ends up in the family's well. As the color begins to affect the family, crucifixes melt into sludge, and a priest who comes to bless the house meets an untimely end. As one reviewer stated, the story is not so much cosmic horror but a bad retelling of The Exorcist.

The next film to tackle Lovecraft's tale is Die Farbe (The Color). Directed by Huam Vu, I agree with S. T. Joshi that "this is the best Lovecraft film adaption ever made." The decision to set the story in Germany in the 1940s and not Arkham, Massachusetts, and film it in black and white adds to the film and does not detract. The color itself does appear as a pinkish-purple color and the contrast it makes in a black and white film when staring out of the sockets of a skull or appearing above the well is shocking with its contrast.

As of this writing, Die Farbe is available for those who have purchased Amazon Prime and I believe is worth the investment of time.

I must confess a guilty pleasure for last year's offering, The Color Out of Space starring Nicholas Cage and Joely Richardson. Taking place in the modern era, Nahum Gardner (Cage) and his wife, Theresa (Richardson) move to a farm with their three children. Set near Arkham, Massachusetts, the everpresent meteorite crashes near their well and before you know it, insects and plant life begin mutating and Cage does what Cage does best, chewing the scenery as he and his family descend into madness and body horror as the color sucks out their life and vitality. By the bye, Tommy Chong makes an appearance in the film and plays a wonderfully lunatic follower of conspiracy theories.

Though not as thoughtful or as slowly paced as Die Farbe, Richard Stanley straps the viewer in for a wild ride and a wild ride it is. Again, I believe it is well worth the investment of time in spite of its shortcomings and wanderings from the original storyline.

The best news about this moving is that the director has promised that this movie is the first of a trilogy of Lovecraft films, the next one being an adaption of The Dunwich Horror.

I can hardly wait.

The Toss of a Coin: A Super Short Story

For the first time in months, my monthly group of writers met and as is typical we were given the exercise of a writer’s prompt and fifteen minutes to create a story, essay, or poem. The prompt was, “the toss of a coin.” 

After staring at my blank tablet for a few minutes, I began to write and what follows, with some limited editing to correct mistakes and add some clarification was my offering for the evening. 

 

We sat around the campfire, a quartet of old friends. The sun had set hours ago, and an easy friendship fed by years of similar gatherings had always given us the freedom of transparency. 

“I remember when I based a life decision on the flip of a coin,” Daryl said. He laughed to himself. “And I can promise you, Harold, that it was to determine a decision far more important than yours.” 

Our attention turned to Daryl as he ran his fingers through his gray hair. “After Alexa passed away after five decades of marriage, I couldn’t bear to go through her personal papers, but after a year of mourning, I was able to steel myself to open her side of the desk we shared and begin clearing out the papers. I found something that reminded me of that coin toss.

“Fifty years ago when I was at college, I was foolishly dating two girls at the time, but as they were from different towns I was able to maintain my scandalous secret. However, I got caught by both of them and they confronted me together. They demanded I make an immediate choice between them. The truth was I truly loved them both. Alexa insisted that if I couldn’t make up my mind then it was to be left up to fate and a coin toss. 

“As the other girl agreed Alexa handed me a half dollar. She called heads. The other girl got tails and I tossed the coin in the air. 

“It came up heads." 

“Did you ever regret the toss of that coin?” Fred asked. 

Daryl laughed. “That’s between me and my priest, but going through my wife’s personal papers, I found that coin.” He reached into his pocket. “Here. Take a look.” 

The coin was passed around the group and we remained silent as we inspected the coin. 

It had heads on both sides.