Flaws
By David Lea
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 David Lea
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Glaring down upon the world was one of God’s giant woodwork factories. The factory was a nice place that made ornate objects such as crucifixes to bows (they have archery competitions in heaven; it’s one way of passing the time.) At lunch break the angels would go outside as normal and have a sing song. If they were stressed they would patiently wait for an opportune moment, out of sight from the great man himself, when they would take out an inappropriate object they had carved. With a swift sling from a sturdy left arm the worker would throw it into the Earth’s atmosphere. I know what you are thinking, this is savage and stupid, and surely there is a law against this. Sadly the laws of man don’t extend to outer space, it’s far too busy fighting a war on common sense down here, however Cartoon Law one does touch on the subject of objects in outer space.
“A body suspended in space will remain in space till it is made aware of its situation.”
It’s a good little law, but who exactly does it apply to? Besides cartoon swords are way cooler than the ones angels make. In times of confusion like this we should look for expert advice so step up Isaac Newton and his Law of Motion.
1. All particles with no force acting on them will move without change. The sword was resting nice and snug in the angel’s hand.
2. The change of momentum of a body is proportional to the change impressed on the body, and happens along the line on which that change is impressed. The angel threw the sword towards the earth.
3. Whenever a particle A exerts a force on another particle B, B simultaneously exerts a force on A with the same magnitude in the opposite direction. God slapped the angel for being a tit and told him off. When out of sight from the angel he rubbed his hand and wished he had made angels with softer heads.
Back on Earth, the sword had landed with a thud. In a cartoon it would have made a twang or bodiong sound. Sadly this isn’t a cartoon; it’s a story about real life.
It was picked up on radar by the U.S. Army. This time they had to act fast. The last time the army suspected they had found an alien, the head honcho’s decided to wait in the shadows quietly studying its wisdom. Unfortunately she became an alcoholic, crack head, singer before they were able to learn any of the universal mysteries from Project Amy.
Now Lt-Commander Shootempoop blazed towards the smouldering wreck in a brand spanking new UH-60M Blackhawk. For protection he brought ten of his finest Navy Seals, trained to perfection in becoming ultimate killing machines, unfortunately they also suffered from a variety of fetishes ranging from acrotomophilia to zoophilia. In tow were Dr Trueman and his lab assistant Lassie. He had to bring the geeks to collect rock samples.
“HOTEL INDIA MIKE UNIFORM MIKE, over,” screamed Shootempoop over the blurring helicopter blades in the desert sun.
“DELTA INDIA NOVEMBER NOVEMBER ECHO ROMEO ROMEO DELTA YANKEE, receiving you loud and clear,” gasped the communications officer.
A puzzled, but congratulatory look broke out across Shootempoops face, the little things like this made him proud to be in the army.
“We have are hovering over the crash site now, there isn’t any sight of alien life forms yet, just some huge bones sticking out of the ground.”
“Remember you are in hostile territory. Proceed with caution Lt-Commander.”
“HOTEL INDIA MIKE UNIFORM MIKE, out.”
“DELTA IND...”
Shootempoop placed the radio back on its stand rather than torture the poor soul again. He ordered the helicopter down a safe fifty yards from the site and began to cover his face, he hated sand it found its way into every creak and would make them sore.
The elite troops streamed out into onto the ground on the Lt-Commanders orders. They quickly flowed into a line scouting for danger, and then rushed into the pile of bones. Going and clear burst out back and forth, in and out till every inch of the area was inspected.
Shootempoop, Dr Trueman and Lassie kept in the shade of the Blackhawk, each one looking from a different perspective, but all in awe.
“Sergeant Kalis, report.”
“Area clear Lt, no signs of terrestrial activity, no enemy hostiles, forty three giant objects, a Tesco carrier bag and this strange wooden sword found sir.”
“Excellent work Damo. Set up temporary camp and have soldiers begin guard,” said Shootempoop as he tossed the silly little sword away.
“woop woop Damo’s sword,” mocked his fellow soldier’s. (His real name was Judas, but that’s not a good name to name to have in the army)
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“Doctor you begin work and find out what sort of devil craft we are dealing with here.”
The Doctor never new quite knew where to start, but always began by starring, most of the time with his mouth open till he began to dribble. He always kept one of those huge magnifying glasses tied around his neck, the type you associate with Frankenstein or Dr Jekyll. The objects were smooth, they were clearly bone, not much bigger than him, possibly six foot long, and they seemed completely natural.
“I need the...”
Lassie passed Dr Trueman the scalpel. He began slowly scrapping one the objects.
“I need the...”
She passed him a container.
He would need samples from them all, and then he would have to photograph them from every angle and map their positions. He put the idea of having them transported to the warehouse to the back of his mind for a moment. Could this finally be his breakthrough he had waited all his life for? Was the proof another life form exists?
“Are they safe Doctor?”
“Yes they seem so, but there is something about them I can’t put my finger on.”
“Definitely an air of witchcraft in my humble opinion Doctor, can never be sure with these crazy foreigners”
Lassie sighed. Shootempoop was an idiot and the soldiers were his lap dogs. Every place they went he would try to play guns and arrows declaring madness till the doctor concluded everything was normal and they would be disposed to another area, where it began all over again.
“Are they terrestrial Doctor?”
“Almost certainly not,” Dr Trueman was pawing at the bone. His thought processes where beginning to spurt into action.
“So it’s most likely cultism Doctor!”
“Can’t be certain at this point,” replied Dr Trueman flapping away at an annoying fly.
Why does he always emphases Doctor as if he is a disease. His name is Simon. Lassie went into one of the many boxes to pull out some white sticky labels; she slowly peeled one off and held out her hand.
“A...” was all Dr Trueman could manage this time.
Slowly, slowly was the mantra. Everything needed to be done right. Samples, measurements, recordings. The only problem was the desert, it didn’t matter how much water you brought, you still ended up roasting hot. Even the water ended up getting hot, which the water usually enjoys because it can fly up into the sky and mingle with other particles of water before having a race back down to the earth, but it was trapped inside a bottle so it became sad instead.
Time dripped onwards. The Lt-Commander pretended to casually lie in the Blackhawk, while peering at his own reflection from a shiny surface, the seals were in full flow of their favourite rhyme my balls are heavy, my balls are sweaty, they swing from right to left or dangle steady, Dr Trueman had his instruments at hand carefully reading out measurements and Lassie waiting on his every word. Not much was happening, but none of them were bored.
Dr Trueman moved on to stage two, which was photographing all of the bones. This was the worst bit in his mind, mainly because it was time consuming and partly because found it a bit vain to hold a camera for so long. It also left him plenty of time to think, but this heat was clouding up his normally rationale thought. Lassie was popping in and out of mind again. If only he could go somewhere and file a report or make an excuse to wander to a shop, but he was stuck in the desert with nowhere to go. Thankfully two camera’s had been packed so Lassie could go about taking pictures out of sight, not for too long though, she was rather pleasing to the eye and provided better company than the soldiers.
Zoom, zoom, click “Arrrr.” Zoom, click. “Mmm better.”
Zoom, whirl, zuzz, click “damn.” zuzz, zuzz, click
“Don’t worry Simon, you take lovely pictures.” said Lassie with a smile.
“Yerr Simon your soo pretty,” teased one of the seals.
Dr Trueman turned around ready to take another picture. His spin was halted as he came across Lassie. She engulfed his whole focus, her skin glowing in the sun as she ran her fingers through her long glossy brown hair. He was tempted to take a photograph, he was going to, just push the button, he was going to…
“Shut up, James.”
His finger slowly pulled back. She said that so womanly. He lowered the camera and noticed James was in photo shot of Lassie. Dr Trueman sighed. It made him feel as old as these bones. Damn these young healthy men. He looked up into the heavens and clenched his fist. Back to work.
“Can I ask you a question, Lassie,” said a beaming James. “Is it hot here or is it you?”
Lassie couldn’t help but smile it was flattering every now and then when the seals tried to chat her up, if only Simon would give it a go.
John jumped up.
“Watch the master at works, boys.”
John strolled over to Lassie as if he was in a 1970’s disco movie.
“You know Lassie, I’m so strong I could make your world move,” He rolled back his sleeve and kissed his bicep “Pure muscle, baby, yeah,” John started to push one of the bones. “You know I can do It,” and he flexed his muscle for good measure.
Normally people like John would make themselves look an idiot, but he was particularly strong and the bone was very old.
John gave it a mighty push and it came thundering down. (He still looked like an idiot; some people are unlucky that way)
“You fucking clown,” snarled the LT-Commander.
He knew better than doing something like that in a war torn country. All the soldiers double checked and rechecked their machine guns. Any one of the dozen different types of desert militia who caught sight of the shiny American helicopter would have dollar signs popping out of their eyes.
“umm woolah wolloh mtang,” wailed faintly in the distance.
“John, James, Matt, gear in the copper now and don’t fuck it up. Andy, Phil, Tom position your lazy asses on that mound. Nathan, James the younger one, Jude and Simon Z get in the bones and give them a nasty surprise if they get close enough.”
Dr Trueman began to move like a mad man, imagining him as the paparazzi and the bones as Michael Jackson wouldn’t come close to the flash photography that was happening.
“Lt-Commander it’s the infamous Unglop coconut tribe. We better get out of here,” stressed Mat.
“Okay grab whatever you can carry and get on-board.”
The Seals retreated back to the Blackhawk; the Unglop Coconut tribe were renowned for their immense savagery and swarm attacks, out numbering the enemy by thousands to one and finishing their foes by strapping a coconut to their head and head head-butting the poor victim to death.
Dr Trueman went into a frenzy grabbing several boxes, jars, containers and began to pull at one of the big bones.
“Let’s go Doctor!”
“Not a chance without this. I’ve been waiting all my life for this, it’s coming with us.”
It was obvious what was happening, despair had overwhelmed him, and he was a man holding onto a dying dream.
In a last desperate attempt he pulled at the broken bone moving it millimetre by millimetre.
Andrew Shootempoop looked down into his despairing eyes, right now he wasn’t a Lt-Commander, he was another human being pulling Dr Trueman back to reality.
“Leave it, let it go.”
Dr Trueman’s grip waned, the power surged back into his arms, and then finally he dropped the bone. A small handful broke off the snapped side. He didn’t need a second invitation, that piece of bone was in his hands before you could shout Oi. They rushed back to the Blackhawk where they were pulled in.
“Jesus get us out of here.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” replied the pilot surging the helicopter into the sky.
“Look what I have Lassie,” The Doctor, he couldn’t contain his joy. “It can be our discovery when we get back to base. Look what I have.”
“I know Simon,” she gave the smile specially reserved for him.
“That’s a nice piece of ivory you got yourself,” said Jesus complimenting Dr
Trueman.
All eyes turned to Lassie, archaeology was her expertise.
“But, but, you…knew?… we.. .you…”
“..could of told you before we landed, but then we wouldn’t have spent a minute here together.”
A million profanities ran through his mind, followed by a million more emotions. In all that daze and confusion he couldn’t help but notice the bright sparkling star that was shining right in front of him. It melted any anger he had left. All he wanted to do was to hold her and give her a kiss. So he did.
Shootempoop slapped his arm on Dr Truemans shoulder and started to laugh.
“Seems we all have our flaws Doctor. We all have our flaws.”