Cliff Hannan

Working on the codex

Cant wait to share it with you

It is really very good!

The needle stings

With kisses of ink and fire

What’s left but a bee?

The burglar rolled into town like the tumbleweed that drifted across the wide open plains that surrounded River Gulch. There wasn’t a living soul that could now recall how the town had ended up with such a name, as there was neither a river nor a gulch within a days ride, and the few remaining townsfolk even argued whether the ramshackle collection of falling-down buildings and barns could really be called a town anymore. The town had enjoyed a brief flare of notoriety during the gold rush, but that had quickly faded to nothing, like the peeling paint on the sign that marked your arrival at River Gulch. The majority of the stores were now empty and boarded up but the handful that remained took pride of place on the main thoroughfare. 

He stood watching the comings and going of the Gulch’s inhabitants from the relative coolness that the patch of shade from the withered, leafless tree afforded him from the savage noon day sun. Lounging in the shadows he was almost invisble, his dusty coat not much darker than the clay packed street that he stood upon. He stretched languously, kicking the dirt floor at his feet. The ferocious sun finally too much for him, he wandered off in search of a cool oasis in which to sleep until the heat of the day finally dissipated. However, if truth be told, the setting of the sun did little to dispel the stifling temperatures that suffocated this part of the country for most of the year. The occaisonal feeble gusts of wind did little more than swirl the sulty air and sandy soil into the air creating a baking, endless oven rather than offering any actual respite from the oppressive heat. 

He crossed the street so that he could take advantage of what little shade therewasto be found under the midday sun. He sauntered casually along the main street for several moments before stopping suddenly. He cocked his head and looked through the boarded up door of one of the many abandoned stores. He had found what he wanted, he could always trust his nose to sniff out something of value. Even in an almost deserted ghost town like this, you could always find something if you knew where to look. 

He speculated for the briefest of moments whether he would be able to dart in and out of the desserted store quickly enough to claim his prize, but experience had taught him to be cautious. Especially when there were people bustling around, and besides, the sun was too bright and oppressive to guarantee the success of his raid. So, without another thought, he continued on his quest to find a comfortable bed to while away the remaining hours until sunset. Instinctively, his feet led him away from the main street, through the quiet back streets and eventually to the final few buildings and abandoned warehouses that marked the edge of the town. He roamed the grain silos for a few minutes wondering if he would be able to pocket a tasty morsel or two but he quickly gave up his hunt when it became apparent that everything worth while had already been stripped bare. In a secluded corner, he found a stack of discarded corn sacks in a pile on the floor, and making himself as comfortable as possible, he closed his eyes and slipped into a fitful catnap plagued by dreams of untold riches and luxury.

He woke several hours later as the sun was dipping behind the horizon. It painted the sky with vibrant streaks of magenta, crimson and orange that deepened into burnished gold before darkening into a myriad of blues and then ultimately to black. As ever, the countless stars were hidden by the dusty haze that hung listlessly in the sky.

He stretched, trying to work out the kinks from his back after sleeping on such a hard and unforgiving mattress. He tried to shake the thick layer of dust from his coat, but all he managed to do was create an ever bigger cloud that made him cough and sneeze. He left the choking smog behind him, and set off into the relatively clean and cool darkness.

He took a long circuitous route back into the heart of the town, always alert for danger. He stole silently down the abandoned alley that ran between the General Store and its neighbour. He leapt lightly onto the fire escape that embraced the back of the building and ran quickly up the metal stairs, then slipped soundlessly through the open window on the second floor. He emerged moments later dragging his prize behind him. He darted up the winding staircase, quick as a phantom, and once he reached the summit, without looking down even for a second, leapt effortlessly to the roof of the adjacent building and sped across the crumbling tiles.

He froze, his body silhouetted against the night sky as a group of thirsty ranchers meandered across the street in search of an icy brew to slake the thirst they had built up from a hard day in the saddle. He crouched as close to the baked terracotta shingles as possible, keeping a tight grip on his loot, not wanting it to slip from his grasp in his attempt to remain unseen. Even in the full darkness of night, he could still feel the uncomfortable, burning heat from the long hours the tiles had spent baking under the relentless, blazing sun.

The moment the weary men entered the tavern and the street below was empty once more, he continued to traverse his way across the roof. He stopped in the shadow cast by the crumbling chimney stack and gratefully dropped his burden to the floor for a second, immediately pinning it in place with his foot. It twitched for a moment then fell still. 

‘Miaow’ purred the cat burglar, then picked up the lifeless mouse in its teeth, and disappeared over the rooftops and into the dusty, desert night. 

Euridacles shielded his eyes from the scorching sun and stared at the city of Athens far off in the distance for a moment, before stepping between the temple’s pillars. He stripped out of his travel-stained clothes and donned one of the clean robes laid out for pilgrims, and suitably attired, entered the sanctuary. He bowed reverentially then raised his eyes to the marble frieze, searching for one deity in particular. 

‘Hera, Mother of Immortals. Most glorious of all Goddesses. I beseech thee.’

‘Your prayers have been answered, Euridacles,’ Hera said, appearing before the altar in a glittering shower of fragrant rose petals. The startled man collapsed to the floor, lying supine in benediction at the goddess’s feet.

‘Rise, mortal,’ Hera commanded. ‘It is not my habit to leave Mount Olympus, but I have a mind to sample the earthly delights that so entrance my husband. Of all mankind, I have chosen you to be my lover and my revenge for Zeus’s infidelity, sweet Euridacles.’

‘I am not worthy of your affection,’ Euridacles said. ‘I do not ask for such a mighty prize.’

‘Do you not find me beautiful?’ Hera asked, knowing her beauty was unrivalled. 

‘Divine Mother, there is nothing in heaven or earth that could ever compare to you.’

‘And yet you spurn me,’ Hera said, acid-laced contempt dripping from every word. 

‘I desire nothing other than the key to Eromenion’s heart. I could never love another, save him.’

At Hera’s silent demand, Eromenion appeared before them, stumbling to the floor in a heap. ‘If it is a key that you want, then you shall have one.’ Hera cast a thunderbolt of anger, transforming the startled youth into a peacock. Hera regarded the bird imperiously for a moment before plucking one of its dazzling tail feathers. Instantly, Eromenion vanished in a blaze of azure fire and the beautiful feather in Hera’s hand transformed into a long golden key, bearing a sapphire peacock’s eye at its end. 

‘Find the door that the key unlocks and I will grant you your heart’s desire. Succeed, and I will move the stars in the heavens to form new constellations so that all may know I have blessed your union.’

‘Thank you, mighty and beneficent Hera.’

The goddess paused for a moment as a vindictive smile curled her lips. ‘True love is a rare and precious gift — and one that should not be so easily won, Euridacles. As a test of your devotion to Eromenion, each day you shall receive a new key that opens a different door.’

Hera disappeared in a cascade of golden petals, leaving a shining portal in her wake. Euridacles stepped through the doorway of the gods, eager to free his true love. Stretching out in front of him was an endless corridor lined with countless identical doors. As Euridacles turned the key in the first lock, the portal vanished behind him, condemning him to wander all eternity in search of the door that would eventually lead him to Eromenion’s heart. 

‘Hima da,’ Keishō complained, collapsing dramatically into a heap on the floor.

Katarite tucked the silk of her kimono behind her knees and sank gracefully to the floor. ‘Today we speak English,’ she admonished the girl, any potential rebellion cut off by the barest arch of her eyebrow. ‘French tomorrow. Japanese comes after Hindi, then, Mandarin and Spanish, before starting again with Arabic.’

‘I’m bored,’ Keishō moaned from her supine position, repeating her complaint. ‘I hate it here. There’s nothing to do.’

‘What a melancholy thing to say,’ Katarite sighed, her eyes glistening with uncried tears. ‘Such ennui is a luxury that was denied so many of our people. It saddens me that you are blind to the splendour of the gift you’ve been given.’ Katarite waved her hand through the air, highlighting the almost artificial beauty of the Zen garden around them. ‘Does the bonsai mope in its pot? No, it simply creates a different kind of beauty.’

‘But they’re ugly and stunted,’ Keishō huffed

‘Bonsai are quite extraordinary. Did you know that if they escape their bindings, they grow back into a normal tree?’ Katarite rose to her feet and resumed the endless task of raking the glistening white sand. ‘And you my precious Bonsai, will be the most extraordinary that ever lived,’ she whispered to herself.

Keishō joined Katarite in the pool of sand and began dragging her rake half-heartedly behind her, leaving a myriad of jagged lines in its wake, unlike Katarite’s perfectly straight rows.

‘Where did we get up to in our history lesson?’ Katarite asked after a few moments of silence.

‘You were telling me about the fall of the empire.’

‘It started slowly, as such things always do. Greed, corruption and ambition outweighing everything else, until we ran out of resources. The cracks were there for all to see, but we had become blind to them. In the end, there were more cracks than anything else and eventually the pieces couldn’t remain together any longer. And when that happened: the world imploded.’

Keishō gasped at the revelation, ‘What happened to everyone?’

‘They perished.’

‘Everyone?’ Katarite nodded, her silence spoke more than a thousand words ever could. ‘What about us? How did we survive?’

‘I created our own bonsai universe.’ Katarite picked up a handful of sand and let it run through her fingers. ‘Each grain contains the DNA of a thousand animals.’ She pointed to the manicured lawn. ‘Each blade of grass and leaf in the garden is genetically engineered to store the seeds of a different plant. Each brick in the pagoda: an encyclopaedia of humanity’s collected knowledge. And you, my precious, little Bonsai, will be the mother of nations. Every cell in your body contains enough genetic code to repopulate a thousand worlds.’ 

Katarite stared through the glass dome at the galaxy of stars speeding past. She knew that somewhere in the vastness of space was a new garden waiting for the legacy of the bonsai tree to finally be released. 

I never spoke to the man that changed my life, nor even saw his face, but not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. 

The city was sweltering under an interminable heatwave. The air was thick and hot, like burning treacle, every movement swirled it into an energy sapping whirlwind. I trudged wearily across the wide open plaza, zigzagging from one delicious pool of shade to the next, desperately seeking any refuge from the blistering heat, no matter how small or fleeting. I watched the traffic ebb and flow from the cool shady oasis for a moment before stepping back into the inferno. I had mistimed my departure. My heart sank as the lights flashed from green to red. I could feel my skin charring and turning the same colour as the guardian blocking my path. My gaze slipped to the people around me, a strained band of kindred spirits willing the traffic lights to change as quickly as possible. I stared unseeingly at the man in front of me. I was suddenly transfixed by the geometric tattoo inked onto his skin. I blinked the sweat from my eyes, the meaningless pattern transforming into letters and then into seven simple words. Words so powerful that they could change the world. My head swam, not from the oppressive heat but with a sense of wonder. 

The traffic lights blinked once again and the traffic came to a standstill. I was swept across the burning tarmac along with my companions. I tried to seek him out amongst the crowd but he had vanished. I never saw him again, but I will carry him with me forever. 

And what were these seven magic words etched onto a stranger’s arm?

One day or day one. You decide!

Zorg grabbed the hypercells and threw a plasma grenade at the same time. He didn’t need the hypercells, they were merely a decoy. He sprinted along the corridor shooting his blaster at random, laying down an erratic volley of shots top cover his escape. His cover was already blown so there was no need for discretion anymore. He skidded to a halt at the shuttle bay doors and blasted the mechanism, sealing it behind him. He knew it was a futile gesture but it should buy him the time he needed to complete his mission. 

He reached the bank of escape pods and tossed more grenades inside before jettisoning them into open space. Their random explosions yet another diversion. He dived into the last one and struck the launch button as he pulled the safety harness over his shoulders. The sudden G-force pinned Zorg in his seat for several seconds until the pod achieved maximum velocity. 

Once the trajectory stabilized Zorg slammed the pulsating data crystals into the computer, instantly a dizzying blur of schematics flashed before him. It was suddenly clear that everything he had been told by both sides was a lie. 

The Planetary Confederation was a fabrication. 

The Imperium did not exist. 

There was no rebellion. Or at least not until now, he thought. 

He pulled the final grenade from his pack and without hesitating for a second, initiated the countdown. Zorg closed his eyes and waited for the supernova that would bring peace to the galaxy. 

The sky was lightening with every second. It was no longer black but a deep inky blue. Vladimir could already see the faintest streaks of orange appearing. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, his panic mounting like the slowly rising sun. 

He sped towards the ramshackle house. He didn’t even stop to open the door but barreled straight through it as the sun finally breached the skyline. Vladimir’s unbeating heart settled in his chest as the calmness of the dark oasis enveloped him.

As the sun’s blaze strengthened, the vampire slipped into a blissful, dreamless slumber. 

Judge Matthews opened the envelope and read the verdict, his face an unreadable mask. He turned to the accused man standing in front of him.

‘Andrew McTavish, the jury finds you guilty of murdering your wife, Claudia, on September 16th 2024. The violence of this case has shocked the world. It is my solemn duty to pronounce your sentence.’

An excited hush of anticipation fell across the courtroom. Everyone was anxious to hear what the would be punishment for the crime of the century.

‘I sentence you to Clause 19 of the Reversion Act,’ he rapped his gavel as a cacophony of sound exploded around him. He waited for the din to subside. ‘You will return to 16th September and undo your heinous act. Should you fail in this lawful reversion, I will have no alternative but to erase your existence completely from our timeline.” He paused for a moment. “And all others.”