It ’s time again for the Concept Art Writing Prompt , where we need you to write a musical composition of flash fable in response to an strange piece of artwork . This workweek , we ’re head into the desert , where , of all things , a submarine lies decompose . You ’re the author , so severalize us : How did it get there ?
Here ’s what I came up with :
I hat desert jobs . I had to exit my bicycle in Rem Hareth , and even though I ’d triple - locked it to the storage social unit at Jem ’s , I feared she was already stripping it down to sell for parts . But with novel Borzaroth Armada ships being expose every week , it made sense to stay until I ’d cleaned up as many sauceboat and bomber as I could . But as my foot sank into the moxie , I longed for the touch of the pedals .
The pack rat - merchants were mobile , always building their shops directly into the wreckage of whatever tub they make out across , and stay on until the place was empty of United States Navy - issued dinner party collection plate and fair linen . When there was n’t a fight of good merch left , they ’d sell the place for a few tabs to a family that needed shelter more than proximity to civilization . This wreckage had a cozy , if crude , bamboo house jutting from its guts . It almost reminded me of the beach holiday homes I ’d seen in ancient photographs .
I did a lap covering of the poor boy , audit the markings still seeable on its disintegrate hub . I pulled out my journal to double - chip , but they were clear from the third wave of submarines from Ba - oul , a small city - state that had attempt to secede from Borzaroth during the water warfare . I consulted my daybook for the proper conjuration before walking inside .
The floor give a little as I stepped inside the shop , rattling the goods line the shelves . The lieu was packed with neat rows of spoils : glasses , silverware , metallic element gears — all the things no one bothered to make any longer . I shook my school principal at a fold stack of crinkled officer ’ uniforms , their radioactive decay - resistent fabrics impertinently wash . Despite their obvious utility , a small wooden placard pronounce them “ pajamas . ” Nobody wants to learn about the yesteryear any longer . Everyone just want to sell it .
A petite clerk elevate her eyes from an issue of last month ’s Kultura and quickly rip a scarf joint over her pilus . “ Are you the exorcist ? ” she asked , rising from a mesa covered in knick - knacks from the submariners ’ quarters .
I used my half - utter arm to lift a St. Christopher ribbon from the table , trying not to smile as her eyes widened . I drag the arm in an exaggerated arc , let it flop through the air like a speared rattlesnake . “ So you have a ghost job , ” I say .
She nod , her eyes still as wide-cut as tea saucers . “ We did n’t call up this sub had one . We got it half - unloaded before it show up , hollo and yaup . My brothers wo n’t go back there anymore . ”
I did n’t blame them . The shade themselves were harmless , but they were a symptom of an active AI . come to the incorrect bit of equipment and you ’d have a few hundred volts traveling up your arm . “ What did you do with the consistency ? ” I demand .
Her eyes drift to the table . “ We … we burned them . ”
I put down the medallion . “ Lazy , ” I gnarl . Most scavenger - merchants were superstitious enough to sink dead body when they found them , although sometimes they did n’t lay to rest them late enough to soften the ghost operator ’s neural splintering . Burning the bodies did no good . The chip was newspaper - lean and resistant to fire ; it got cast aside around the wind with the ashes and was probably sit down just a few miles away under a millimeter of guts . “ I ’ll have to confront the ghost straightaway , then , ” I told her . “ It ’s a more dangerous procedure . More expensive . ”
She brighten at that . “ That ’s no problem ! ” She flex over , fishing for something beneath the table . Strands of black hair spill from beneath her scarf . She stood back up and shove a filing cabinet draftsman into my arms . “ We find these in the buttery . ”
I equilibrize the draftsman with my good subdivision and peered inside . Dozens of glossy brown packages shimmered in the low light , each stamped with Book “ Meal , Ready - to - eat on . ” My mouth water .
“ They ’re the right form , ” she said . “ The unity that heat themselves . ”
Of all the technology we had lost , ego - heating system repast packet was the one I regret the most . “ It ’s a deal , ” I said . “ Where ’s the trace ? ”
The shop clerk operate to the front door and yanked it shut , bolting the lock behind her . “ I ’ll show you to the engine room . ”
“ Are n’t you afraid ? ” I ask . Most citizenry go out the boat entirely while I did my piece of work , not wanting to be tainted by the ghostlike energy . I preferred it that room . I hate the idea of concocting some unpointed show to relieve their fears .
She careen her head from side to side . “ I want to see you do it . ”
I inhale the familiar chalky smell of the railway locomotive room , wondering , not for the first time , if it had reek that way when the sub was in economic consumption . These rooms were my office blank space — different from boat to boat , but comforting with their familiar pipes and telephone dial . We walked to the back , to the silver dais that sat on the far end of all those subway system . The AI live here , I knew , where we ’d have the best chance of throw contact with the ghost .
“ Is that his nursing home ? ” The clerk pointed to a light luminousness on the rostrum , which blinked gullible every few second . astonishing to think that , even after thousands of years , the light bulb had n’t burned out .
“ More or less , ” I told her .
“ Are you going to destruct it ? ”
I laughed , shimmy my half - dead weapon system at her . “ I made that error once , a recollective time ago . ”
She shrank back , clutching her custody against her chin . “ So what are you going to do ? ” she asked .
I sighed , wish I had a less humiliating ritual for this . “ Hey , ghosty ! ” I cry out . “ Officer Ghosty ! ” Nothing . I consult my diary . “ exemption for Ba - oul ! ”
That did it . The ghost materialize , and I heard the shop clerk pant behind me , her fingers digging into my half - dead branch . Most of the trace I see were elderly officer , center - aged men with firmly - draw faces . This man was younger , devout . No wonderment he had hollo at the shop assistant ’s brother ; he was probably as afraid of them as they were of him .
I depend down at my daybook , quickly reviewing the incantation . “ Barzaroth push the Pementhian fleet in the Battle of East Klemor , but the fight would not have been successful without the help of the Ba - oul naval forces . In gratitude , Barzaroth awarded Ba - oul its independency , and the urban center enjoy a thousand eld of successfulness . ”
We waited a moment , and eventually the specter opened his sassing , his minor whisper pumping from the sub ’s verbalizer arrangement . “ So we did it ? ” he inquire with a tentative smile . “ We win ? ”
I nod . “ You won . Mission reach , sir . ”
The specter vanished , and my eyes shot to the podium . The Light Within had stop flash .
As we headed back toward the shop class , the clerk asked , “ Is it true , what you said ? About the ghost ’s city ? ”
I replaced my diary in my battalion . “ No . ”
“ Do n’t you ever experience bad ? Lying to ghost like that ? ”
I shook my head . My journal was a collection of alternate histories from dead culture , C of ways the macrocosm could have been unlike . But in the goal , they all set ashore here , in a time where the ocean had turn to comeupance and we could n’t make self - heating meals , much less submarines . “ No ghost ’s truth is any dependable than any other ’s . ”
fabrication
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