Kristina Korus

Beamy Business

In space itīs always dark and cold.
In space you are alone.
In space nobody hears you screaming.
In space you are lost.
- In fact, space is a pretty hostile place, you know?
..... Oh, you donīt? Well, then let me tell you this little story.
Learn from it and stop wishing to be an astronaut or something like that, especially if you are not a member of the group of sunglasses owners!!

***

It was quite a sunny day in some little village on the planet Earth. The weather was clear, the air smelled like the summer that was soon going to arrive. Everything was calm and quiet. No sound disturbed the peaceful silence until...

“PAUL!!!!“

... well, until it was warfully disrupted by that incredible loud and incredible squeaky scream that almost hit the frequencies a human ear is not able to hear anymore.

“PAUL!!!!! - Where the hell is that little bastard?!“

The voice came from a woman.
She was in her late forties and very thin - compared to that big old oak tree with an approximate diametre of 4 metres that she was just passing.

Approximately 573.9 kilometres above this scene the following was happening:

“Captain! Captain! The crash is not avertable. We are too fast!“

The captain rushed into his chair, checking those funny little blinking lamps which showed him the disasterous state of his ship - and that of the ship that was approaching them.

“Approximate time until collision: 1 minute 24 seconds.“

Now, that was the end.
His only friend: the end.
He would never look into the eyes of his beautiful wife with her fair hair again.
He would never see his children growing up; never hear their fair laughter again.
He would never have the possibility to enjoy his pension in a big house near the wide blue sea....
No. He would die right here, leaving some little frozen atoms in space. A sigh came from his lungs - the last ever in his live....

“57 seconds.“

The monotonous voice of the computer did its work very well. Theyīd never had experienced any problems with that computer... well, just once, when it tried to gain control over the ship, but they had been able to talk it out of that.

“34 seconds.“

He had to say something.
He had to thank his men. It had been a pleasure working with them. So he pressed the button of the communication system of his ship:

“Hi folks, this is your captain speaking. Well, as all of you probably know weīre all going to die in a few seconds, so I just wanted you to know...“

“10...“

“...that you were the best...“

“..9...“

...“crew that Iīve ever had...“

“..8...“

“...and it was a pleasure...“

“..7...“

“...working with you - well, except that...“

“..6...“

“...little almost-mutiny...“ He had been able to talk them out of it.

“..4...“

“Hey, computer, you miscounted.“

“Oh, did I? Well, then I should start anew, shouldnīt I.“

An agreeing whispering flooded through the ship. If they really had to die, then only with the right countdown.


The explosion was a huge one.
Nobody survived from neither ship.
The news were full with that story the next day.

The ships collided right above that old oak tree, the woman had circled, looking for...

“PAUL!!!!“

In that moment she was already gone, but Paul was sitting there at the very top.

When the beam hit him he was surprised - not because of the beam but because of that little bunny that seemed to disappear in some earth hole just to re-appear tripled.
The source of the beam was the collision. Nobody knew what exactly had happened, which reactions were started up there, but everybody soon knew that there HAD been a change with Paul...


“Man, what happened to you? Youīre looking as if you went on a surf trip way up high in the Himalaya and when you noticed that there isnīt any possibility to surf you jogged up good olī Mount Everest just to calm you down before you fell off a cliff and hit you terribly on your head.“

Words like that had the habit to come from Paulīs best friend Pierre. Although everyone thought Pierre was some descendant of a lama (a look into his mouth was enough to be sure), he himself denied it brusquely for he thought himself to be a descendant of a noble kangaroo.
Anyway, Paul answered:

“No, dude! Actually I was sitting on a tree, when some beam hit me - and then I really DID fell and terribly hurt my head.“

“Cool, man.“

Pause.

Then:
“Hey, have you seen the news today? Thereīs a big fuss about that collision in space - no survivers, by the way - and..... whoawhoawhoa, waidaminit! A beam hit you? You donīt actually mean that this hyper-dangerous-because-ultra-radioactive-from-everywhere-of-the-planet-seen-superman-power-possessing-outer-space-beam hit you right on your head?“

Pause.
Paul was thinking.
Then he laughed tryingly.

“Aah.... no? .... But when I think it over.... well... could be...... Where did you say it happend?“

“Well, right at the old oak tree over at the green meadow.“

“U-hu....“
Hard thinking.
“The old oak tree, right?“

“Yeah, man. You canīt identify it anymore. In fact, it isnīt there anymore. Some farmer says heīd had seen it pulling out its roots and then running away with the speed of some duck in a desert smelling water.“

“U-hu....“
Hard thinking.
“A duck.... “
Paul tried again to laugh. It didnīt work the way it should.

“Okayokayokay“, continued Pierre, spitting at a passing car - a very close passing car that almost ran over his feet. It was so shocked by that attack that it failed to drive around the curve and landed inside a big tank of crocodiles which were displayed in the local pet shop.
The driver didnīt know any other way to help him out of this awkward situation but spitting at the crocos. They ran away in panic.
Paul looked at the scene.
Looked at his friend.
Said:

“There ARE lama genes in your DNS.“

But Pierre wasnīt listening.
He kept on talking as if nothing had happened.

“We should make a test. Try to lift a car.“

“No.“

“But why not?“

“Just because.“

“Because of what?“

“I donīt like people spitting at me.“

“Just wait a sec.“

Pierre went over to the still spitting car driver and said very courteously:

“Sir, my friend here would be very glad if you left youīre car right away. Because if you donīt he will get very angry and fold you just like a piece of carrots.“

The man got even more frightened and spit the hell out of him - the mystery of where all his saliva came from will stay a mystery forever. So Pierre went back to Paul, as wet as a blue whale on his first honeymoon day.

“I suggest you take just - “, he looked around looking for the right thing - “Yeah, take the fire engine!“

But Paul wasnī there anymore. Some surgeon said later he would have pulled out his legs, put them under his arms and flew away.
So Pierre was alone. He went over to the car driver, apologizing for what he had said some minutes ago and they spent the whole day spitting at pidgeons.

Paul meanwhile flew indeed.
He couldnīt believe it - but he flew!
Without wings.
He approached the end of the atmosphere - and he didnīt die!
Slowly it dawned on him that his friend had been right. He indeed HAD been hit by that hyper-dangerous-because-ultra-radioactive-from-everywhere-of-the-planet-seen-superman-power-possessing-outer-space-beam. He was radiant and smiled from one ear to the other.
No limits. He could go wherever he wanted to - no! He could FLY wherever he wanted to.
But where?
That was the question.
He decided to go to... to FLY to Mars to find out the definite answer to the big mystery of space: Are there tiny green women on the Red Planet?

So far, so good. But he had forgotten one little thing:
His sunglasses.
Everyone knows itīs dead-necessary to have sunglasses with you on a trip to Mars. Especially in summer times when the sun is shining louder then other times.
He didnīt have such a sun protector and so he lost his orientation.

Now wait a minute!

How can you lose something youīve never had?

This stupid boy wasnīt able to find the butter in a fridge - his hand always came out somewhere at the vegetables. And now he was go.. flying to Mars!
This wasnīt a prediction of a good ending.

Well, he got lost.
Even very badly.
He had no clue where he was, not in the least.
Nobody was there, not a soul. He was - alone.
He tried to scream but as nobody heard him, it hit him:
Space is a pretty hostile place.


The End








-No.


It would be a nice ending, referring to the beginning, right?
My teachers would be so proud of me.
But really: It is not the way the story ended.

And that is because Paul found - by chance - the location where the accident had happened. And there he found the love of his life. She was the only surviver of that tragic incident - the computer with its wonderful smooth and soft voice.
They married right there and with the calculating brain of the computer they found the way to Mars.
There, a not so tiny as he had thought green-skinned woman fell in love with Paul and in order to be always with him she agreed to be the body for the computerīs voice and brain.
So the three lived happily together.
Until the day Mars ceased to be, rung down the curtain and started pushing up the daisies.


The End

Now itīs over.







Really.


Believe me: Thereīs no point at all to keep reading!



















Itīs over. Canīt you read me?



I-T I-S O-V-E-R!!!!



















- Iīm quitting this...Nobody ever listens to me!

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Kristina Korus.
Published on e-Stories.org on 05/11/2004.

 
 

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