Phantom

This is a short from the world of a longer story I am writing.  Happy Christmas and Merry New Year!

Phantom

A short story of the Battlezone universe

            As the shuttle landed, the Phantom watched from the ruins of what once was DiKnosso’s Italian Cuisine.  Old DiKnosso had been dead for three years.  His 15 year-old grandson was the guardian of all the graves on Phoebos[1].  He had been nicknamed The Phantom because he would appear out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly.  Donning his helmet and his hood, he vanished in a swirl of dust.

            Jack stepped out of the shuttle, carrying his shovel.  Behind him, several men carried an (empty) casket.  Then came five marines carrying shock rifles.  And then came the family and friends of the deceased.  Jack was a native Phobean, with the characteristic ‘Mohawk’ of razor-sharp spines.  Phobeans were microvores, eating algae and bacterium.  The spines were a defense against predators.  Phobeans could survive in space, being able to hold their breaths for months at a time.  This made any need for a helmet negligent, as the spines could be made to lie flat to shield the head.  Bending down, Jack started digging.  When the hole was large enough, the casket was lowered into the hole, and the marines fired their salute.  One off the family members, a Jag Lees, said, “Well Jack, start shoveling.”  Jack said, “The Phantom has not arrived.  If the Phantom does not protect this grave, then it will be defaced.”  “I don’t want any superstition.”  Rex, another one of the friends, said, “It’s not superstition.”  Then, the Phantom appeared.

            The Phantom saluted the marines, then covered the grave with the rocky earth of Phoebos.  Then, he said in a gravelly voice, “None shall disturb this grave.  She will rest in peace.  You have my word.”  The Phantom walked slowly away, and when none were looking, disappeared in a swirl of dust.

---

[1] One of  Saturn’s moons.  Or was that Jupiter?

N'keo: The Viral Invasion

     Ahh.  Another school entry.  Also found in my family's newsletter, in the form of an excerpt.

   

     It was dark that night, but to avoid cliche, it was not stormy.  No shots rang out, but tinkling glass did.  If you are especially observant, you may even see the culprit: a rock.  No one knew how much trouble the rock would cause.

    The next day, N’keo padded into the museum, wondering what was happening in his domain.  Yellow tape and humans in black with shiny badges surrounded his favorite sunning spot.  He thought, ‘Either the humans are guarding my spot for me, or something is happening.  Probably the latter, but one way to find out...’ He padded in and his guardian/feeder scooped him up.  “N’Keo, someone broke your window.  Here, curl up in this blanket.” His breath smelled funny.  N’keo listened to the people talking:  “Probably just a kid.” “Pretty big rock...” What’s that smell?” Then one of the officers stumbled and fell.  N'keo jumped out of his warm nest and peered into the face of the downed human.  One sniff told him the human was unconscious.  As everyone else was rushing around getting first-aid supplies and talking into their little sound makers, N'keo jumped as hard as he could onto the human’s chest, swarmed up onto a stool and jumped again.  One of the humans with the badges shouted "What the ****? Is that cat trying CPR?!?"  A red and white van making annoyingly loud noises screeched to a halt in front of the museum.  When humans with blue clothes ran in, the cat did two more jumps and then ran out of the way.

    A few days later, N'keo heard the humans talking again:  "So, apparently, he would have died if not for an unidentified substance."  "Well...  What kind of substance?"  "Dander, of an unidentified variety."  N'keo thought, 'Hmm...  I wonder if I had the dander.  The human who got sick was the only one to touch the rock, or get close enough to breathe in anything on it.’

    The lab results were official:  A new virus, found on the rock, was the reason the man had fainted.  So far, five hundred more people had caught it.  Only those in the museum who had handled N’keo, or those with cats, were safe.  It was never lethal, though it was serious.  No one realized it was the cats that kept them from the brink of epidemic.

    N’keo was at a monthly meeting of cats.  All of these cats were able to do something:  N’keo could read five languages, two of them dead.  Antlers could write, Mr. Claw could use a cellphone and had invented cat-friendly smartphones.  NTFS (Don’t ask.) could use a human computer.  Bubbles the kitten had access to a laboratory, and knew how to use it (Information gleaned from a past life - he had six to go.).  This team could combat any threat not holding a gun or a salmon net.  Bubbles had a personal vendetta against salmon nets.  Her sharp claws would rip one to shreds in an instant.

    Bubbles reported that the mystery dander had been positively identified as cat.  This meant that cat dander was the key.  Now, they just had to find the culprit:  Someone with a lab, and access to volcanic rocks in the wild.  The rock had microorganisms that would die quickly if the rock had been stored without the virus.  The microorganisms could survive darkness, but their food could not.  So, the microorganisms would die.  The virus, however, gave the food supply a way to stay alive.

    NTFS found three laboratories capable of making the virus.  Only one would be in range for the virus to survive in the numbers found: the one at Black Rock, Nevada.  NTFS, using a synthesizer, and Mr. Claw made the arrangements via phone.  Bubbles, N’keo, and Mr. Claw would fly to Nevada, and would be picked up by a friend of the museum director.  There, they would be driven to Black Rock.  Then they could investigate.

    In Black Rock, the trio found something:  The lab was giving out free rocks.  When Bubbles examined a rock, it was a carrier for the correct virus.  The search was coming to an end.  The lab was used by only one person: Mel Douberman.  Mel was later found under a salmon net with a note explaining where to find evidence against her.  A vaccine was found using an oil found on cats and cat dander.  The Feline Five detectives had found the solution, though preferred to stay hidden as one of the world’s best-kept secrets.

Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle (Christian Content–read if interested)

For school a few months ago, I did a piece on Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle.  This was a book I personally hate, but it still has a few good points for discussion.  Here it is:

 

Critical Response for Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle

By Noghiri

The Jungle was a book by Upton Sinclair, originally printed in serial form. The book tries to show how Socialism is better than Capitalism and why. Over the course of the book, the main character, Jurgis, comes to America and is gradually destroyed by Capitalism. The first two thirds follow the writing style known as Zolaism or Naturalism. This style takes the main character through many hardships and usually a final defeat. The last portion does not follow this style as Jurgis finds hope and salvation from the ‘System’.

Thesis

Sinclair’s Chicago was not like the Chicago we know today. Sinclair’s Chicago was a dark, grim place not too different from a Dystopian world found in many books. The rich own everything, the poor own nothing, and there is nothing in between. Working conditions are horrible, and death rates are high. Many parts of this were true: The bad food and the poverty, for example. Others were made up or exaggerated: the rat poison in the food vats, along with dead rats, and the death by fertilizer vat. Sinclair also shows the political parties as an evil, to be bought and sold like everything else. This did admittedly happen, but not nearly to that extent, otherwise the reforms that have been law for just a few months over one hundred years would not exist.

Sinclair also placed the characters in a cycle of dehumanization, changing them from rational humans into beasts not responsible for anything. God did not design us to be broken, and we are always humans, faults and all. We still all have responsibility for all our actions. This cycle could have been broken by making a simple moral decision at any stage, and if the cycle had progressed, it would still be possible to get back on track in life.

Evidence

1. Example A:
Connor, Ona’s boss could not have made things as impossible as he had threatened. He had threatened that Ona and her family would have no work. This would only work if they stayed in the city. They could move to another city, and get work there. Connor’s reach did not extend that far. Around this time, the Tobacco rolling plants in Florida were very nice and well run. Ybor ran things safely, and paid for a newsreader for the workers. Usually, the workers would have to pay themselves. Thus, political and business corruption was not as wide-spread and bad as Sinclair made things to be.

2. Example B:
Throughout the book, Sinclair represents the characters as animals, not truly accountable for their actions. When Jurgis breaks his arm, Sinclair presents him as unable to compete on equal terms with his competitors. Late in the book, Marija makes a living satisfying animal desires. Sinclair makes her not truly responsible for her decisions. Had she made a more moral choice, Sinclair’s arguments would have unraveled. Sinclair does not show this, but had this been nonfiction, Marija would have been the one main deciding factor in her situation.

3. Example C:
If nothing else, Jurgis is consistent. He was always a hard worker. However, to cope with it, and his son and wife’s death, he turned to alcohol, one of the more readily available forms of perceived pain deadening. Here and in real life, alcohol is an anesthetic. If you cannot handle your shortfalls and pain, you usually turn to some form of anesthetic.

4. Example D:
Kind of a continuation of Example C. Marija turned to drugs as her anesthetic. People still do that today: If you are going to die and return to the nothingness from whence you think came (or maybe come back as something else, still feeling pain), why not spend the days you still have on a high. Sinclair makes this pain out to be a direct result of capitalism. The problem is more fundamental. The pain is a result of not having a relationship with God. Nihilism is a philosophy that causes pain: Everything you do turning into dust in the long run, while the planet goes around the sun until the sun goes into supernova, and even that doesn’t mean squat in the end. A biblical philosophy gives you a nice place to go in the end. If you believe, and you are wrong, you’ll just turn into dust. If you are an atheist and you’re wrong, then you end up in the lake of fire. It’s just safer to be a Christian.

Conclusion

Sinclair’s cycle can be broken, simply by following God’s word. Drugs and alcohol are merely futile escapism from the real problem. Only one person is responsible for most of your troubles: You. The rest are back blasts from someone else’s problems. All of your problems can be fixed, or at least made manageable, including those originating from someone else. No animal could come up with a philosophy. My cat does not, at least, and if he does, he’s not telling.