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Laid to Rest, Cover Art

Read Our Featured Sci-Fi Story

 

Laid to Rest

This project was completed as a challenge "laid down" by our friend and former Dreamforge co-worker, Tracy Smith.  Tracy is working on a multi-media project combining story, song, and art, and this tale was inspired by Tracy's music track of the same name.   

One day we hope to use this page and our site to promote Tracy's completed project. It will be awesome.

Our interpretation of Tracy's dark and poignant lyrics involve a war at the end of time, warriors without women, a feminist twist, and a surprise ending after the twist.  It's definitely not one of our pieces of 3 minute fiction, so settle in for a wild ride and a great adventure.

Available Formats

   

  (Visit our MOBI page to learn more.)

 

Sample from Laid to Rest:

Their bellies filled and their psyches exhausted by battle and their inexplicable surroundings, the crew of Patrol Torpedo Boat Able slept for a day, then a few hours more.

Even the iron will of their commander succumbed to the need for unbroken rest.

When they awoke, it was all at once, every pair of eyes brought wide by the sudden realization that they were not alone.

Jerso was first on his feet.

The alien occupied the space at the center of the pool, its feet planted firmly on the surface of the reflecting waters.

This time the fiery power of the seraph was nowhere to be seen. From head to foot, the proportions of the creature had normalized; its limbs and torso having taken on recognizably feminine curves, though the face remained hidden behind a polished mask of silver.

Its arms remained unmoving, held out slightly from the sides, palms open and facing forward.

From all around the circle, from the positions where Abel’s crew had fallen in slumber, they now converged with weapons drawn, their voices rising in a questioning, aggressive chatter. Some asked Jerso for permission to fire, others yelled at the immobile statue to “get down!”

They seemed to dance around the alien as though it were a maypole, each man connected to it by an invisible, winding ribbon. They circled closer, growing all the more disconcerted by the lack of any reaction from the silver form.

For his part, Jerso found his crew was shouting so loudly he could not even think. As he watched, Scriv was the first to splash into the pool and touch the intruder with the muzzle of his gun.

Then silence.

Everyone stopped and backed away.

The head had turned slightly, almost imperceptibly, as though a pair of eyes behind the featureless mask were considering them.

Though it had no mouth, the creature spoke.

“Is more sleep needed?”

 In tone, it was a mother addressing her children. In sound, the voice was resonant, almost musical.

Intrigued?  Keep Reading!  Available Formats:

   

  (Visit our MOBI page to learn more.)

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