The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(42)
“We don’t know! Nothing appeared on our sensors!”
“What civilization uses antimatter as their main power source!?”
The subordinate ran a search in the databanks and looked up, “There was a planet that was the third planet out from a G-Type Star that used it before we destroyed it.”
“When was that done?”
“A century ago.”
*
The small creature sat on the hull of the moon sized defense facility and had her ear pressed to its surface to hear what was being said. She was identical to the being that visited the planet. She raised her head and looked off in the distance at the shockwave moving rapidly toward her and knew she would never see her sister again. She put her ear back down to the hull of the Defense Facility and cried as she heard the torment of the beings inside at the destruction of their home world. They were so sad! So incredibly sad!
She looked out at the giant force field used to protect the former planet and marveled at the power of a facility that not only produced that force field but also powered all of their massive fleets of warships. The technological discovery of sending power to their ships through subspace was an advancement beyond anything ever done in the universe. It made the Allowen all powerful. The facility also provided power to all the commercial transports that brought back riches forcibly taken from other civilizations they destroyed to enrich their population.
She cried at the sorrow taking place on the huge structure and leaned down and softly kissed the hull. The explosion of the giant structure ripped the moon apart and moved at an incredible velocity through space, where it merged with the planet’s shockwave, and destroyed every Allowen Ship floating powerless in the star system.
The millions of Allowen Ships scattered across the universe suddenly found they were stranded with no energy to power their jump drives or any other system. The planets being invaded by the Allowen Landing forces discovered that the invader’s blasters and force fields stopped operating. The Allowen on those planets were quickly killed. Most of the crews on ships stranded in open space survived on emergency generators, which were designed to only power their communicators and life support systems. The millions of ships tried to contact their home world and, after enough time had passed, they knew they were never going to answer. It wasn’t long before fights broke out on board the stranded ships as they struggled to take possession of what little food remained.
Even those that turned to cannibalism to extend their lives, at the end, died a slow and painful death. Unlike the sisters, they did not receive a goodbye kiss. The twin’s creator kissed them gently before she released them. Doctor Miriam Weaver watched the twins fly high into a crystal blue sky and wept for what she had been forced to do. They had been created to bring joy to children; not to be a weapon of destruction. They disappeared from view and she continued to stare at the sky, as she wept for them and what they were forced to become.
She finally lowered her head and wept for herself and her planet. An hour later, she was vaporized by a nuclear explosion fired by Allowen Warships still in orbit above Earth. The Allowen knew if no one lived, no one would come seeking revenge later. They were an hour too late to stop the goodbye kisses sent by the Earth Scientist to their doomed civilization.
*
Saxon Andrew has written several popular science fiction series, including Annihilation, Ashes of the Realm, Lens of Time, The Fight for Creation and Star Chase.
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3407413.Saxon_Andrew
*
Kiss No. 43
C. A. Newsome
Joss and I were sipping lattes in the little kitchenette when the bells on the front door chimed. I set my cup down and peered around the corner, into the gallery. Amalie Rogers (soon to be Mathers) stood just inside the door, taking in the gallery with a rapt expression on her acquisitive little face. She took a few steps further inside, turning left, then right, experiencing the impact of the canvases from across the room. She basked as if she’d just stepped off a plane in Saint Bart’s.
The woman had marvelous taste, but I didn’t like her. To her I was just Phillip’s peon, a messenger boy, one of the army of insignificant sub-humans who were necessary to provide her life with sufficient grace and style. I always thought she secretly envied our talents and therefore must subject us to subtle forms of debasement whenever possible.
She cooed over Phillip because he was filthy rich and a member of her class. Phillip wasn’t here. She’d have to deal with me. But she’d play nice today. Joss was here.
Amalie was leggy for a short woman, and delicately boned in a build the Goths called ‘fairy.’ Joss joined me in the little hall and we watched as she removed her gloves, then slowly unwrapped a motley cloud of immense proportions from around her head and shoulders, unveiling herself like Venus emerging from sea foam. She draped the scarf over her arm, and shook out her hair. The razor-cut blonde streaks fell back perfectly in a trendy, layered hack-job, her pink and blonde coloring set off by NYC de rigueur black. Her leather jacket was matched with over-the-knee boots and leggings. She must have decided to go ‘edgy’ this season. I thought of the look as ‘Suburban Dangerous’.
“Does she know we’re watching her?” Joss whispered. “This is like a performance.”