Summary: By J. Kelley Anderson Read by David Moore Discuss on our forums. Originally appeared in Ray Gun Revival (2012) All stories by J. Kelley Anderson All stories read by David Moore Rated 13 and up Oubliette By J. Kelley Anderson The half-buried thing hadn’t moved once, but I didn’t have to include that in the story when I got back to base. The great, gray mass of it rose at least ten feet out of the red earth, tucked close to the sheer wall of the plateau. That part I’d tell. If there had been anything like a head, I would have shot it, but it just looked like a giant, lumpy football, oozing a viscous yellowy liquid here and there. The non-military personnel tried to remember their instructions, looking away from the muzzle of my rifle as the metallic squeal of the charging weapon warned of an impending discharge. The moment the noise ended, a pencil-thin beam of white light leapt from the gun and bored another sizzling hole into the motionless mound of wrinkled gray flesh. There was a sound like someone cooking giant bacon in a giant skillet. I just can’t describe how much I love photon rifles. They’re big, noisy, ugly, unapologetic things that leave your hands shaking and the entire area smelling like ozone. They were shit on stealth missions but, then, so am I—that’s just one of the many reasons I got this gig as the Army equivalent of a galactic janitor. Sergeant Wroblewski and I made eye contact as I turned to address the science team, and I noted the silent “high-five” look on his face. “Well?” I said smoothly to Science Officer Neely. “Doesn’t get much deader than that.” I tried to look nonchalant. Neely raised some sort of high-tech monocular to his eye and peered at the creature. “No, I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head. “What? That’s the fourth direct hit. What the hell is that goo bubbling out of it, if it isn’t dead?” “Well, I’m not certain captain, but that ‘goo’ was bubbling out of it when we arrived.” “Christ, the thing has four holes through it that weren’t there when we got here. I may not know much, but I know dead. And that thing is dead.” “Captain, we all have the same orders. We can’t establish a construction base, let alone a settlement, until we clear the indigenous flora and fauna from this sector. It is fortuitous that, on this occasion, there is only a single life form here. But, I’m telling you, that organism’s life signs have not changed since we arrived.” “Look,” I said slowly, “I put holes in things. That’s how we kill things. It’s a tried and true method that has worked for humanity many, many times. What do you suggest I do next?” “That isn’t really my area of expertise, but explosives come to mind.” “I would agree with you, if I had brought any.” (Truthfully, I didn’t have the clearance to handle explosives.) “I was told ‘one, big sedentary critter.’ Didn’t think I needed to bring detonators.” “Well, then might I suggest. . .” Neely’s lips kept moving, but it suddenly seemed like the sounds just plain weren’t reaching my ears. There was a strange subtle pressure building behind my eyes, and a low rumbling steadily becoming louder. Neely’s mouth just kept flapping and I could tell that neither he, nor the rest of the group, felt anything out of the ordinary. Then, without warning, everything just stopped. I don’t mean the group stood still, I mean stopped—like I had just found myself in the middle of a photograph. The pressure in my head slacked to a general, sustained discomfort. It sorta felt like being in deep water, except that I could breathe and move just fine. I glanced up at a swirling cloud of whitish vapor that was now simply frozen motionless against the pinkish backdrop of the sky. “Uh. . .” I said thoughtfully to nobody in particular. “That’s probably not good.” “What, you mean you can’t do that?” Asked a voice behind me. I whirled around, bracing the stock of my rifle against my shoulder as I moved. “Seriously? That’s your plan? You’re really gonna shoot me with that thing[...]
