Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
We reach it after a long hike through the Pine Barrens. Untouched by time and impossible, a Second World War German submarine lies in the woods, miles from roads or ocean. “Last seen prowling the New Jersey Parallelogram,” my companion says. I see cloven hoofprints. I walk with her through the museum’s Hall of Weapons: A steady evolution from flint arrowheads to triangular, transnuclear orbital drones. Then abrupt, empty hallway. “Curator,” the child asks. “What happened?” “Progress,” I answer. “Finally.” “Where’s the ESPer!” the agent demanded with his gun. “I’m cryokinetic,” Marge answered as her beagle growled. “I freeze things.” “You’re dampened! I want the electrokinetic!” She nodded. “Sic ‘em!” The dog’s amperage-filled bite threw him into spasms. We escaped easily with scratches, starship sinking into blue ocean. Original aspirations gone, we swam trapped on an odd alien word. After Eeve and I salvage and tidy The Aeden’s flotsam, we have sex near a stone shore. Cain is born later that year. The kids tidied their Jedi costumes as Rixla smiled. “I love the convention! People talk to me and give me complements.” Tim nodded. “They think you’re a cosplayer!” “I am!” she said, comparing her blue skin to a girl posing as Mystique. “Just not a human one!” My 8th grade science teacher had a cane with a silver skull and lone alabaster tooth. After the bell sounds, he sees me glimpse it. “Like it?” “It’s awesome,” I say. “Good against werewolves.” I show him a growing trio of claws. “Good against wizards.” First contact came as a fleet of six-hundred warships. The Earth held its breath as the President asked why they had come. Their saurian alien leader is stoic. “The Tesh Armada reduced our world to ash. They are coming, but we will fight beside you.”