Long Frame , livre ebook

Book View Cafe - Steven Popkes

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

64 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

The Invader's ships didn't conquer--they destroyed. Those caught at the Connaught Range fought to the last.Connaught Range had a secret laboratory. When there was no hope, the soldiers, civilian researchers, and their families uploaded themselves into the protected Server Farm, fighting the monsters from their own minds to make a place of safety. Maybe the Invaders would find them. Maybe they would be rescued. Maybe not. There was no way to tell.But no one came and over fifteen years of peace they made their own lives.Now, that's over. The Dragon is coming.

Sujets

Science-fiction

Science fiction

Informations

Publié par	Book View Cafe
Date de parution	29 septembre 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781611389180
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0080€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE LONG FRAME
Steven Popkes
www.bookviewcafe.com
Book View Café/Walking Rocks Edition September 29, 2020 ISBN: 978-1-61138-918-0 Copyright © 2020 Steven Popkes
Table of Contents
Title Page
Also by Steven Popkes
The Long Frame
~ 1 ~
~ 2 ~
~ 3 ~
~ 4 ~
~ 5 ~
~ 6 ~
~ 7 ~
~ 8 ~
~ 9 ~
~ 10 ~
~ 11 ~
~ 12 ~
~ 13 ~
~ 14 ~
~ 15 ~
~ 16 ~
~ 17 ~
~ 18 ~
~ 19 ~
~ 20 ~
~ 21 ~
~ 22 ~
~ 23 ~
~ 24 ~
~ 25 ~
~ 26 ~
~ 27 ~
~ 28 ~
~ 29 ~
~ 30 ~
~ 31 ~
~ 32 ~
~ 33 ~
~ 34 ~
~ 35 ~
Acknowledgements
Copyright & Credits
About the Author
About Book View Café
Also by Steven Popkes
Caliban Landing
Slow Lightning
Welcome to Witchlandia
Simple Things
God’s Country
Jackie’s Boy

To Wendy and Ben, of course.
The Long Frame
~ 1 ~
Isaac lived on the border of the town, right wherethe resolution started to get choppy and pixilated. Though he didn’t like tothink about falling and breaking his ancient hip, he liked to climb up on the flatroof of his little bungalow and sit on the bench facing east. From there hecould watch clouds grow out of block colors, taking on tint and shadow, growingin definition until by the time they blew over him they looked completely real.
Clouds were the most mobile of forms but from here hecould see other things, too: the march of forest from painter’s splotches ofbrown and green to the mix of pine and maple near town. The progression ofgeology from simple streaks of brown, black and gray into the ridges ofsandstone and granite that surrounded Grovers Mill. Birds flew out of theclouds as mere curved streaks in the distance to become terns and seagulls,sparrows chased by a red-tailed hawk.
The only thing that went from the town to theborderlands was Main Street, a road that proceeded from Nobel Circle at thewest side of town, around the town square, then out and away to the east untilit reached here. As it passed the town limit the pavement changed to gravel. Then,to dirt. Until finally, it became the impression of a trail lost in the greensplotches of the woods. Isaac kept a close eye on the road.
It wasn’t just idle observation, either. With hisbinoculars he could see things that had just formed. All he had to do was waitand they would come to him, ripe for claim. Isaac wasn’t above wandering theroad a little deeper into the borderland to pick up things to sell onAnniversary Day: the smudged suggestion of a few Greek coins that became solidbrass drachmas. The outline in a flat rock that became the fossil of an ammonite.
But Isaac didn’t go past the gravel. He’d heard therewas nothing beyond the clouds but pulsing wireframes and blinding mist. Isaacwas in no hurry to confirm such stories. You could meet anything out there.Death. Destruction. The Dragon. The Gray Man. Anything. Isaac liked the beginning of the edge of things just fine. The actual edge of things was toodamned dangerous to approach.
Isaac scanned the borderlands. Anniversary Day was tomorrow.He needed more stuff to sell. The sky looked odd towards the south. Herecognized the sheen. The beginning of an allocation shift. Isaac didn’t liketo be outside during a shift. He preferred the warmth and false security ofbeing indoors.
Today the trees seemed unusually well defined andobscured the last vestiges of trail. He saw movement in the distance—perhaps amile away, though judging distances in the borderlands was a chancy thing. Themovement seemed behind the trees. Isaac hid behind his chimney.
A figure rounded one of the trees and stopped.
Isaac could see her clearly—strange in itself. A younggirl no older than twelve wearing bright blue shorts and a shirt with a pink dinosauron the front. Her hair was dark and close cut. He couldn’t see much of her face—shewas shading her eyes with her hand and peering towards the town. Abruptly, shelooked right at him, grinned and waved. He could see freckles across her nose.
Startled, Isaac waved back then hid behind hischimney.
Maybe a mile. Maybe fifteen minutes until she gothere. That is, if it really was a mile and not twenty feet. If she continued towalk and not fly. If she really was a girl.
He slipped carefully off the back edge of the roofand started walking towards town. This was more than he knew how to handle.
He had to tell somebody.
~ 2 ~
Ven was making coffee for Aaron… Peterson. AaronPeterson. It gradually came back to her, memories crystallized out of the blurof the fugue. Like waking up. Like remembering a troubling dream.
Ven never dreamed.
Though she usually knew when one was coming, itstruck her as odd how often she missed the actual start of a fugue.Someone in Grovers Mill had need of her special nature and it would suddenlyseem perfectly normal to wander up and down the streets, sniffing the air likea dog, stopping at corners and streets, walking into houses or apartmentswithout knocking only to see the client look up at her, unsurprised.
Aaron Peterson was monstrously unhappy. He wassixteen and had remained so for fifteen years. No one ever got older in GroversMill.
She carefully placed the coffee in front of him andsat down across the table, perfectly postured to show she was listening, posedas a somewhat older woman. Still desirable but not available—though someday shecould be. That was one of the archetypes typical of sixteen-year-old boys: experiencedwoman finds the boy irresistible for unexplainable reasons and sexuallyinitiates him into the mysteries of life to make of him a man.
Well, possibly, depending on the nature of thefugue. But not this time. Aaron didn’t need sex. Better for him to work out hisphysical needs with another of Grovers Mill’s eternal teenagers. What he neededwas to turn physiologically seventeen. Ven couldn’t manage that but she couldlisten to him as he tried to cope with it.
He stirred his coffee. “I have to be at work in anhour.”
“I can wait with you until then.”
“You’re the Goddess of Love,” Aaron said. “Can’tyour goddess powers grow me up?”
Ven crossed her hands primly. Slut behavior was notappropriate here. “I can listen.”
“Anybody can listen.”
“Few do it well.”
Aaron half nodded towards her point.
“And,” she said. “I can talk to Harry about it.”
Aaron lifted his head and looked at her. “You’d dothat for me?”
“You could talk to him yourself.”
Aaron shook his head. “He scares me.”
Ven sighed. “Aaron, he’s a middle-aged man. He’sgoing bald and has a limp. Half the time he has to walk with a cane.”
The boy shrugged and looked away. “That doesn’tmatter.”
Ven had never found Harry the least bit frighteningand didn’t understand anyone who did. Perhaps it was a failing of herimagination. Ven was wholly of this place, a product of digital conflict withinthe Server Farm Harry managed. She had no prior history. Maybe you needed that littleextra bit of past in order to appreciate how frightening Harry could be.
Thinking of Harry distracted her. Ven knew what shedid during the fugues hurt him. He was her husband after all. She rememberedthe ceremony and how they carefully selected the lines for their vows. Deceit ,Harry said, has no place in a marriage . If a promise could not be keptthere was no point in making it.
If she could have stopped, she would have done so. Whatshe did during the fugues hurt Harry. Not being able to stop them hurt her .But the fugues were part of who she was. Everyone brought their baggage tomarriage and she was no exception.
Ven shook her head, bringing herself back to themoment. “I will talk to him. Not about our conversation—that would be aviolation of privilege. But about the… situation.”
Aaron grinned at her. “That would be great.”
She patted his hand and listened as he poured hisheart out.
~ 3 ~
Chester Marche was a big man—well over six feet andtwo hundred pounds of muscle with broad shoulders and big, powerful hands. Helooked at his hands, the palms pale and the rest a stark black. He leanedagainst the front of the Formica counter watching El Mercado’s customers.
Mayor Deborah Hanson was looking over the stapleshelves: flour, sugar, corn meal. David followed her carrying a basket, his greatblack eyes, shiny and blank as a marble. The gently moving tentacles sproutingfrom where his lower face used to be contrasted with his severe black suit. Hewaited patiently as Deborah spoke with Sol Greene. Chester wondered who wasrunning Greene’s Sweatshop while Sol was here. Sol didn’t delegate well. Or,maybe the Sweatshop was caught up. Grovers Mill only had limited need for shoes,shirts and pants.
Deborah went past the flour and other staples andended up in the deli and produce section. Fresh foods were precious and shelooked over them carefully. She selected two apples and a small block of cheeseand approached the counter.
Chester slipped behind it. “For Anniversary Day?”
Deborah looked up at him and smiled kindly. Herface was narrow and hard; her hair close cropped and gray. She’d come throughpretty much as he had known her on the other side: every inch the unforgivingsupply master.
“That is correct, Sheriff Marche,” she said,pulling out money.
David said something unintelligible. To Chester itsounded like: Slob. Slob. Slobbity-slob-slob-slob.
“Of course.” Mayor Hanson replied. She carefully placeda US dollar bill, two Canadian quarters and a couple of Loonies on the counter thenlooked up at Chester. “Today, we’re going to the square to watch the allocationshift. It’s special to have a shift the day before Anniversary.”
“They’re always fun to watch.” Chester judged itenough—not that it mattered so much. What meaning did money have here? But itseemed that people needed something to tokenize transactions. He swept themoney off the counter and put it in the cash box, picking out a beautifulLincoln penny for change.
Deborah’s eyes lit up when she saw it. “That’s apretty one.”
Chester nodded.
Sol followed her. He grunted and put down a poundof sugar, a small sack of flour and a pack of cigarettes. Ne