PLANET MAGAZINE

[Illustration: “Braydahs Ship” © 2006 by Romeo Esparrago.]

“Look, if you’ll just inspect the implant in the back molar on the left side of my mouth, you’ll know I’m telling you the truth.”

Dr. Karrow looked at the disheveled man in ragged clothing who was sitting in the dental chair. They were now behind the partitions and the door, and the hearing of others. Dr. Karrow let out a sigh. He gazed at the little tin-foil hat that the dark-skinned man had fashioned and capped his thinning strands of black hair with. The hat was torn on one side. Karrow silently wondered at the impulse he felt to listen to this disoriented and babbling man, instead of simply calling the authorities to deal with him. But there was something… a quality of sheer earnestness in the man’s eyes and in his voice that compelled Karrow to listen. Dr. Nathan Karrow had rarely witnessed such earnest conviction, however delusional it might prove to be.

He smiled, patiently. “Now, please tell me your name.”

The homeless man held out a stress-thinned hand with gnarled fingers. His watery dark eyes went wide — searching for some sign of understanding.

“Eno. Eno Ecnahc.” He flashed a brief and nervous smile.

“Well. That’s an unusual name, isn’t it? Is it perhaps South American?”

Eno frowned and shook his head. “No. It isn’t.”

“And is this molar the only reason you’re here?”

“Yes. Dr. Karrow. Yes. The molar is the key. For you see, they are coming. The Qual. The Qualdrads. The Mother-Ship. They are coming, to steal your sun!”

Read the rest of this entry »

[Illustration: “Lava Raft” © 2006 by Romeo Esparrago.]

It’s two for a dollar
the Whirlie-Warp ride
just past the Fun House
through the white gate
climb the wood tower
slide into the tunnel
and disintegrate
to cosmic scintillas
a boreal glow in
Devonian skies
a sparklet of moonrise
in dinosaur eyes
a night planet’s wink
at the prayer of a Sikh
aswirl through the eons
till whipped to a peak
you’ll step out again, whole
and find it’s last week. *

About the Author: Michael Katz teaches anatomy at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio.
Story (c) 2006 Michael Jay Katz mjk8@case.edu

About the Artist: Romeo Esparrago lives in a Fun House of the mind.
Illustration (c) 2006 Romeo Esparrago

[Illustration: “Flesh” © 2006 by Romeo Esparrago.]

On Bishop-34’s southern hemisphere the wind started to pick up. I could already tell, experience being the best sensor, that this was what I considered a “Classic” storm and as the first of the hydrogen-sleet began to sever land sensors and pelted what remained of my belt armor, I just shut down. No sense in being aware of a storm that could last up to a year or more.

* * *

The last time I had seen a storm like this was during my first tour of duty with Earth Guard as part of the 7th Fleet, Altaan-Sector. I remember it only because of how badly it had hampered our mission. The Altaan-Sector was on the far-most edge of human-inhabited space and had enjoyed enormous prosperity due to at first unrealized natural resources.

With the influx of such wealth in such a short amount of time the company-like colonies had gotten it into their heads that they no longer needed Earth and with that no longer needed to repay the massive loans extended to them. They then began to annex other small colonies. The fleet was sent in to remind them of their obligations.

The colony leaders had chosen a violent planet to use as their base of operations once it became clear that military action was due. Like mountains or bodies of water long ago, the colonists had mapped the planet’s weather systems extensively and had timed their landing and our approach perfectly. In short, we were held up for almost a year while the colonists fortified their defenses. I hated weather and I hated storms even more.

Read the rest of this entry »