Read Online The Last Story by Christopher Pike - Free Book Online
Authors: Christopher Pike
Tags: Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Authors, supernatural, Horror & Ghost Stories, Ghosts, Body; Mind & Spirit
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able to locate up ahead of us. Not all comets are simple balls of ice out here. Some have faint coronas."
"May I ask the purpose of finding such a minute cloud? It will not stop the alien ship that chases us, I can tell you that now."
"But it will provide the camouflage we need to deposit thousands of nanoeggs in it."
Understanding crossed Pareen's face. The nanoeggs were the invention of the Crystal's scientists, a weapon they had put together during the centuries they had explored far from home.
A nanoegg was only as large as
a chicken egg, but contained within it a million tons of compressed antimatter—sealed inside a magnetic bottle.
When matter and antimatter collided, the release of energy was phenomenal, complete.
One nanoegg could wipe out an entire planet. The corona of a sleeping comet could disguise the presence of their eggs, and if the alien ship were to unexpectedly sweep through them, chasing in their wake, it should explode, shields or no shields. Pareen nodded as he considered her strategy.
"We must release the eggs with the alien ship practically on top of us," he said.
"Otherwise the eggs sharing our high velocity—will sweep out of the corona."
"True. But we can fire the eggs into our wake at high speed. There will be room for error."
Pareen shook his head. "Not much. If their weapons and engines are so superior, we must assume their sensors are likewise. The eggs must make contact with the alien vessel inside the corona or else they will be spotted and avoided."
"It is worth the risk. Especially when we don't have another option." She stepped toward the elevator. "Let me know when you have located a suitable cometary cloud. I will be in my quarters."
"Why are you leaving the bridge at a time like this?"
"I have to see to something important," Sarteen said.
I stopped writing. Tiredness had begun to creep back in. Besides, I didn't know what happened next. I didn't understand half of what I had written.
Twelve strands of DNA that reverberated with
twelve chakras? I knew that humans had two strands of DNA, spun in a double helix shape. I did not know what a chakra was; the word had just come to me as I wrote. I didn't even know if Sarteen was right, if the Elders were behind the attack or not.
Yet I loved the story, the feel of it, the mental pictures and feelings it evoked in me.
Often I started a story simply with a single powerful image and waited to see where it went.
Backing up what I had written onto the hard disk, and onto a floppy, I turned off my computer and crawled back into bed beside Peter. Just as I began to doze off, another piece of my dream came back to me, or I thought it did. I had been talking to Roger and we had been discussing this very tale. The thought made me smile. I had only known Roger a few hours and already he had inspired a story.
CHAPTER
VII
A T THE CONSTRUCTION SITE the next day, I came close to losing my mind. I could not see how this hole in the ground—even with the bulldozers plowing hard and Andy's gay lover painting wildly was going to look like the Caribbean anytime in the next year. I told Henry as muoh, in a surprisingly hysterical voice.
"It will be perfect," he said. "You're a writer, not a director. You don't understand the magic of camera angles and film splicing. Remember, the sailboat set piece is complete. We just have to tow it over here from the studio."
I stepped to the edge of the wide pit. "When we fill this with water," I said. "Won't the water just soak into the ground?"
"Some will. We'll just put in more."
"And you're going to color the water? Will the sharks like that?"
"The sharks don't have a contract. They have to like it."
I chuckled. "What if someone falls into the water?"
Henry lost his easy manner. "We don't joke about that. No one gets near the sharks while they're feeding."
"Do we have to feed them?" It was a stupid question, I knew.
"We have to film them feeding. It's in the
"May I ask the purpose of finding such a minute cloud? It will not stop the alien ship that chases us, I can tell you that now."
"But it will provide the camouflage we need to deposit thousands of nanoeggs in it."
Understanding crossed Pareen's face. The nanoeggs were the invention of the Crystal's scientists, a weapon they had put together during the centuries they had explored far from home.
A nanoegg was only as large as
a chicken egg, but contained within it a million tons of compressed antimatter—sealed inside a magnetic bottle.
When matter and antimatter collided, the release of energy was phenomenal, complete.
One nanoegg could wipe out an entire planet. The corona of a sleeping comet could disguise the presence of their eggs, and if the alien ship were to unexpectedly sweep through them, chasing in their wake, it should explode, shields or no shields. Pareen nodded as he considered her strategy.
"We must release the eggs with the alien ship practically on top of us," he said.
"Otherwise the eggs sharing our high velocity—will sweep out of the corona."
"True. But we can fire the eggs into our wake at high speed. There will be room for error."
Pareen shook his head. "Not much. If their weapons and engines are so superior, we must assume their sensors are likewise. The eggs must make contact with the alien vessel inside the corona or else they will be spotted and avoided."
"It is worth the risk. Especially when we don't have another option." She stepped toward the elevator. "Let me know when you have located a suitable cometary cloud. I will be in my quarters."
"Why are you leaving the bridge at a time like this?"
"I have to see to something important," Sarteen said.
I stopped writing. Tiredness had begun to creep back in. Besides, I didn't know what happened next. I didn't understand half of what I had written.
Twelve strands of DNA that reverberated with
twelve chakras? I knew that humans had two strands of DNA, spun in a double helix shape. I did not know what a chakra was; the word had just come to me as I wrote. I didn't even know if Sarteen was right, if the Elders were behind the attack or not.
Yet I loved the story, the feel of it, the mental pictures and feelings it evoked in me.
Often I started a story simply with a single powerful image and waited to see where it went.
Backing up what I had written onto the hard disk, and onto a floppy, I turned off my computer and crawled back into bed beside Peter. Just as I began to doze off, another piece of my dream came back to me, or I thought it did. I had been talking to Roger and we had been discussing this very tale. The thought made me smile. I had only known Roger a few hours and already he had inspired a story.
CHAPTER
VII
A T THE CONSTRUCTION SITE the next day, I came close to losing my mind. I could not see how this hole in the ground—even with the bulldozers plowing hard and Andy's gay lover painting wildly was going to look like the Caribbean anytime in the next year. I told Henry as muoh, in a surprisingly hysterical voice.
"It will be perfect," he said. "You're a writer, not a director. You don't understand the magic of camera angles and film splicing. Remember, the sailboat set piece is complete. We just have to tow it over here from the studio."
I stepped to the edge of the wide pit. "When we fill this with water," I said. "Won't the water just soak into the ground?"
"Some will. We'll just put in more."
"And you're going to color the water? Will the sharks like that?"
"The sharks don't have a contract. They have to like it."
I chuckled. "What if someone falls into the water?"
Henry lost his easy manner. "We don't joke about that. No one gets near the sharks while they're feeding."
"Do we have to feed them?" It was a stupid question, I knew.
"We have to film them feeding. It's in the
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