The cigar shaped Swazel hovered gracefully above the edge of the lake. The silver tone of the glassy surface reflected the rising rings of Andre
Prime and formed an entire spectrum of colors off the thin gas membrane of the Swazel’s under belly. The apple sized blue eyeballs twisted atop
their eight-inch long extensions in a 360-degree circle searching the Bangor trees along the banks of the feeder stream. Every few minutes, the
floating blimp drummed its blood red gills, creating a low hum. After two passes along the stream bank, the humming sound played back from the
forest and the Swazel angled both eyes toward the top of one of the larger Bangor trees.
The creature contracted the purple membrane forming its body and a faint puff of gas jetted from the orifice near the tail. A stream of water vapor
expanded out the back and propelled the airborne predator forward. The trailing mist formed a pink cloud against the planets rings, like a giant
cotton candy. The Swazel used its translucent fins to vector onto the unsuspecting Halo snail feeding on the white berries of the Bangor tree. The
two alien species echoed the low tone sound back and forth, like a mating call. Another puff of pink exhaust shot out, and the floating mass inched
down to devour its blind prey. In slow motion, the Swazel extended a two-foot helix shaped tube and penetrated the gelatinous body of the
penguin-sized slug.
As the Swazel extracted the pink jelly from its prey, the predator’s outer shell began to quiver and shake, as if the creature were experiencing an
orgasm. The vibration resonated into the fins and broadcast a soothing sound, almost like a love melody. The slug became paralyzed by the
acoustic waves and remained glued to the tree branch, yet it continued to echo the same song of its master. It didn’t fight, or try to crawl away,
but rather accepted its fate and graciously fed the Swazel with the essence of its soft body. In this contorted alien ritual, the slug had behaved as
intended and gave up its fertile larva to a strange mate. The airborne swazel would broadcast the offspring extracted in its meal with each jet burst
as it searched the valley for another willing morsel.
From his deck, perched on a monolith overlooking the Handa Valley, Drake swallowed his last mouth full of java and watched the process of duo
species dependence unfold on the third moon of Andre Prime. The purpose of the strange dance was different for each species, one for
sustenance, the other to perpetuate its kind, yet the result was the same; the continuation of life.
“More coffee, Handsome.”
Drake returned from his trance. “Oh, sure, Angel. Thanks.” He glanced at the French twist in her long black hair. “Always like your hair that way.
It looks so…I don’t know why, I just like it.”
Lara primped her hairdo and smiled, “That’s why I do it, all for you.”
She poured the steaming brew, and then glanced down at the undulating membrane of the singing Swazel as it consumed its fill. “Strange how
such beauty can be derived from death.”
“A lot of things are strange on this moon.”
Lara placed the thermos on the carved stone table and wrapped her arms around Drakes neck. “Yes, but I love it. Every since our honeymoon,
I've wanted to live here. Funny thing is, I can’t remember much about that trip. In fact, I seem to be forgetting a lot lately. You think it could be…”
Drake interrupted, “You’re not afraid we’ll get bored with this elementary life style. There’s no electronics, everything is primitive, and the nearest
neighbor is two hundred miles away.”
She rotated around toward his front and dropped into his lap. “I don’t care. As long as I have you with me, nothing else matters any more.”
Lara kissed her husband and slowly offered her tongue. Drake tried to remember the sweetness of her mouth, her stimulating natural scent, the
tingling sensation when she combed his hair with her nails; but it had been too long.
She studied his solemn visage and puckered her lips. “Where’s that quirky boyish smile that melts my heart.” She tried to tickle behind his ear,
“Come on, I know it’s in there somewhere.” But it wasn’t. Drake missed the real sensations in this hollow non-tactile existence between life and
death.
“Sorry, Angel. I miss the way you feel.”
Lara reflected an empathic expression. “I know, Darling. I miss it too, especially making love. Lord do I miss making love. But we both accepted
the downside when we signed up. How much longer before we can stop and retire here for real?”
Drake’s expression morphed into a mock smile, but she was too perceptive. “What’s wrong, Handsome?”
“Nothing, why?”
“Come on. I see the smile, but beneath those strong cheekbones, there’s a melancholy frown hiding. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing…really. I was just calculating our finances, that’s all.”
“So how long before we can quit?”
“If we can find a few good hits, then with the bonuses we get, this might be our last run.”
Lara’s face blossomed into a broad grin, accompanied by a stream of girlish giggles. “Oh my God. So soon. I never imagined we were so close.
Thank heavens. You know I don’t like to complain…’
Drake smirked, “Yeah, right.”
She mussed his hair and pinched his nose. “I’m serious, Drake. I hate this life. It was all right when we were young and the runs weren’t so deep,
but now, I miss the physical contact. Especially being pressed against that hot groin on those cold nights. The feel of your furnace next to my
rump…Lord, gives me goose bumps thinking about it.”
“You always did have an iceberg for an ass.”
“I don’t remember you ever complaining.” She planted butterfly kisses across his face. “Sweetheart, how far would you go for our love?”
“What?”
“It’s a simple question. I’d go to the edge of the Milky Way and back for you. How far would you go to be with me?”
“That’s a silly riddle.”
“Not for me it isn’t, and I’m not letting you up till you answer.”
“You and your damn games, woman.”
“I’m waiting.”
He grunted, “Fine. Give me a minute.”
The sound of a high-pitched siren radiated from the direction of Andre Prime.
Drake bellowed, “Shit.”
“No. Please, don’t go. Not now. We were having so much fun. You can’t go. You didn’t give me an answer.”
Prime and formed an entire spectrum of colors off the thin gas membrane of the Swazel’s under belly. The apple sized blue eyeballs twisted atop
their eight-inch long extensions in a 360-degree circle searching the Bangor trees along the banks of the feeder stream. Every few minutes, the
floating blimp drummed its blood red gills, creating a low hum. After two passes along the stream bank, the humming sound played back from the
forest and the Swazel angled both eyes toward the top of one of the larger Bangor trees.
The creature contracted the purple membrane forming its body and a faint puff of gas jetted from the orifice near the tail. A stream of water vapor
expanded out the back and propelled the airborne predator forward. The trailing mist formed a pink cloud against the planets rings, like a giant
cotton candy. The Swazel used its translucent fins to vector onto the unsuspecting Halo snail feeding on the white berries of the Bangor tree. The
two alien species echoed the low tone sound back and forth, like a mating call. Another puff of pink exhaust shot out, and the floating mass inched
down to devour its blind prey. In slow motion, the Swazel extended a two-foot helix shaped tube and penetrated the gelatinous body of the
penguin-sized slug.
As the Swazel extracted the pink jelly from its prey, the predator’s outer shell began to quiver and shake, as if the creature were experiencing an
orgasm. The vibration resonated into the fins and broadcast a soothing sound, almost like a love melody. The slug became paralyzed by the
acoustic waves and remained glued to the tree branch, yet it continued to echo the same song of its master. It didn’t fight, or try to crawl away,
but rather accepted its fate and graciously fed the Swazel with the essence of its soft body. In this contorted alien ritual, the slug had behaved as
intended and gave up its fertile larva to a strange mate. The airborne swazel would broadcast the offspring extracted in its meal with each jet burst
as it searched the valley for another willing morsel.
From his deck, perched on a monolith overlooking the Handa Valley, Drake swallowed his last mouth full of java and watched the process of duo
species dependence unfold on the third moon of Andre Prime. The purpose of the strange dance was different for each species, one for
sustenance, the other to perpetuate its kind, yet the result was the same; the continuation of life.
“More coffee, Handsome.”
Drake returned from his trance. “Oh, sure, Angel. Thanks.” He glanced at the French twist in her long black hair. “Always like your hair that way.
It looks so…I don’t know why, I just like it.”
Lara primped her hairdo and smiled, “That’s why I do it, all for you.”
She poured the steaming brew, and then glanced down at the undulating membrane of the singing Swazel as it consumed its fill. “Strange how
such beauty can be derived from death.”
“A lot of things are strange on this moon.”
Lara placed the thermos on the carved stone table and wrapped her arms around Drakes neck. “Yes, but I love it. Every since our honeymoon,
I've wanted to live here. Funny thing is, I can’t remember much about that trip. In fact, I seem to be forgetting a lot lately. You think it could be…”
Drake interrupted, “You’re not afraid we’ll get bored with this elementary life style. There’s no electronics, everything is primitive, and the nearest
neighbor is two hundred miles away.”
She rotated around toward his front and dropped into his lap. “I don’t care. As long as I have you with me, nothing else matters any more.”
Lara kissed her husband and slowly offered her tongue. Drake tried to remember the sweetness of her mouth, her stimulating natural scent, the
tingling sensation when she combed his hair with her nails; but it had been too long.
She studied his solemn visage and puckered her lips. “Where’s that quirky boyish smile that melts my heart.” She tried to tickle behind his ear,
“Come on, I know it’s in there somewhere.” But it wasn’t. Drake missed the real sensations in this hollow non-tactile existence between life and
death.
“Sorry, Angel. I miss the way you feel.”
Lara reflected an empathic expression. “I know, Darling. I miss it too, especially making love. Lord do I miss making love. But we both accepted
the downside when we signed up. How much longer before we can stop and retire here for real?”
Drake’s expression morphed into a mock smile, but she was too perceptive. “What’s wrong, Handsome?”
“Nothing, why?”
“Come on. I see the smile, but beneath those strong cheekbones, there’s a melancholy frown hiding. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing…really. I was just calculating our finances, that’s all.”
“So how long before we can quit?”
“If we can find a few good hits, then with the bonuses we get, this might be our last run.”
Lara’s face blossomed into a broad grin, accompanied by a stream of girlish giggles. “Oh my God. So soon. I never imagined we were so close.
Thank heavens. You know I don’t like to complain…’
Drake smirked, “Yeah, right.”
She mussed his hair and pinched his nose. “I’m serious, Drake. I hate this life. It was all right when we were young and the runs weren’t so deep,
but now, I miss the physical contact. Especially being pressed against that hot groin on those cold nights. The feel of your furnace next to my
rump…Lord, gives me goose bumps thinking about it.”
“You always did have an iceberg for an ass.”
“I don’t remember you ever complaining.” She planted butterfly kisses across his face. “Sweetheart, how far would you go for our love?”
“What?”
“It’s a simple question. I’d go to the edge of the Milky Way and back for you. How far would you go to be with me?”
“That’s a silly riddle.”
“Not for me it isn’t, and I’m not letting you up till you answer.”
“You and your damn games, woman.”
“I’m waiting.”
He grunted, “Fine. Give me a minute.”
The sound of a high-pitched siren radiated from the direction of Andre Prime.
Drake bellowed, “Shit.”
“No. Please, don’t go. Not now. We were having so much fun. You can’t go. You didn’t give me an answer.”
Excerpt
Copyright 2010 by Michael W. Davis
| On a deep space mining exploration, Drake and Lara are exuberant to discover the largest source of Tallium ever recorded, until they’re forced to make a desperate choice of how far they'll go to stay together. |
| How far would you go? |
| "ESSENCE will keep you highly entertained from start to finish.... Davis is a masterful storyteller who continues to keep the reader highly entertained with his stories. With each book this author delivers to his readers, he captivates you from start to finish with a few intriguing twists that leave you breathless. ESSENCE is a nice, short read that will leave you eager for more. I hope this author comes back to this little area of the world he created and shows us more fun in space. If you haven’t read one of Mr. Davis’s stories then grab ESSENCE and settle in for a fun filled romp in outer space. " |
| "In the fascinating and intense short story, Davis exposes us to a beautifully written world of deep space missions and enduring love. As with his other works, Davis does an amazing job with detailed and emotionally-driven descriptions. The fast paced plot, likable characters, and twist at the end make this story a pleasure to read…and reread. I recommend Essence to science fiction and non science fiction lovers alike. A great read." |
| "Essence is a great short story about what someone may do to save one that they love. It’s set in a futuristic setting, with an original storyline and setting, and it is definitely something Sci-Fi readers won’t want to miss. At 24 pages in length it is a short story (but not too short) and from the beginning you’ll be hooked." |
Blurb
Stories to touch the heart and mind
Michael W. Davis
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2008 Author
of the year
of the year
2009 Author
of the year
of the year