Life Force
By Ian D. Smith


Misha Hadrian took huge steps around the flight deck with her hands behind her back. Then she bowed.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr Elephant,” she said.

The architect and pilot of UA Zero reclined in his chair and put his hands behind his head. Titus Rosario had followed the young woman’s progress round the cramped flight deck. He reminded her that they were the only two on board. There was no elephant.

“Return to your desk please.”

But Misha Hadrian bowed again.

“Let’s not be stupid, Mr Elephant,” she said. “Let’s not be frivolous.”

A loud grating noise kicked in overhead and they both looked to the ceiling. Misha stood up, swept her hair back and drummed on the water cooler.

“This crate,” she said. “It’s going nowhere.”

Rosario had never thought of Universal Architects Zero as ‘going nowhere’. It boasted user-maintainable parts, more than adequate funding, clearance to colonise and a workable solution for the surface of Intaglio. But it was temporarily delayed and he hadn’t a clue why. The noise stopped and the soft hiss of the aircon resumed.

“What the hell was that?” she asked.

“Dust,” replied Rosario .

“I can’t see it turning,” she said leaning on his desk. “Not on its own. A gyroscope would need some kind of external input to overcome the inertia.”

“Would it?”

“Oh come on, Titus,” said the young woman. “You know as much as I do. The ship’s going nowhere.”

“The solar panels will do it,” replied the architect. “Low level energy.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

She circled him and put a hand on his shoulder, “Can’t you find some way of boosting it?”

Rosario looked out at the pale quadrant of the Intaglio moon, its hot, protective layer glowing and bursting. It had taken many years to reach that point. He’d tried the communication channels but they were all dead. He’d tried to kick-start the gyro by blasting it through with the aircon reversed. It had worked before.

“The most rudimentary of toys,” he replied.

“The what?”

“An African bean on a thin wooden shaft. That’s what inspired me.”

“A child’s spinning toy?” said Misha leaning on her hands. “I’ve never heard of a child’s spinning toy inspiring anything. What do you think, Mr Elephant?”

“Oh yes,” said Rosario . “Your invisible elephant.”

“He’s not invisible. He’s imaginary. Aren’t you?”

“Does he have to be an elephant?” asked Rosario . “Can’t he be a camel? A camel might be more use.”

Misha shrugged, “If you want a camel, I can make it a camel. He was the best I could do under the circumstances.”

“I’m sure we’ll be moving soon.”

Reverberations shook the darkened flight deck of UA Zero. Rosario was fifteen years old when his parents delivered him to the Universal Architects’ door with a bundle of ideas for the future. Misha pressed her face against the heat-shield.

“That’s two hours.”

She was fifteen years younger than he was. He had no idea why they were both selected for Intaglio.

“We have a lot to thank the Universal Architects for,” said Rosario . “The intersecting curves, the monumental spear-headed recreation zones, living space for generations.”

“Did you see your parents again?”

“I might do,” he said. “One day.”

“Did they know what was going to happen?”

“It’s been hard work, Misha. Very hard work indeed.”

“I guess you’ll want to spread your wings after this.”

Rosario put his head in his hands.

“Do you have anything useful to say, or are you just going to-?”

“I-Spy,” she said. “With my little eye, something beginning with-”

She reached up and stroked an imaginary long neck.

“Guess what?”

“There’s a giraffe in the room,” replied Rosario. “What happened to the elephant?”

“A very, very busy elephant.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

“He’s drawn up some rough ideas for the Intaglio colony should we ever get there. He visualised soft décor, feathers, organic lines, your spinning toy for example.”

“And the Universal Architects considered your idea?”

The aircon shut down with a crump and only the creaking of UA Zero could be heard as it drifted towards the hot gas shield. They both put their palms against the creaking heat-shield.

“Do you find it warm?" asked Misha. "Think of my poor elephant and my poor giraffe trying to reach up for air. Shall we set them free, Titus? Shall we see if we can push stubborn old Nelly? I’m pretending to push. Don’t you see?”

Rosario unstrapped himself and rolled his chair back, pretending to push too.

“What’s missing in our zoo?” she asked.

“Give me a clue.”

“We have an elephant and a giraffe.”

But Rosario grabbed her arm, “Never mind the giraffe,” he said.

He placed a tiny toy in her hand, an African bean on a thin wooden shaft.

“You said you’d never seen one before.”

She rotated the spinning top feeling where the stick pierced the ancient dried bean.

“The only surviving example.”

She held it higher, “The most basic of toys.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

“The first toy on Earth.”

“Think of how many generations it’s pleased spinning down through time. I was going to-”

Misha snapped the toy in half and dropped the pieces on the floor.

“Furry,” she said.

“Furry?”

“It’s furry and it’s striped. Striped, Titus. Have you got it yet? Its claws are long and sharp. Its teeth are like knives. Its eyes are wide and bright. Don’t you see it, Titus? Don’t you see what I see?”

Rosario kneeled and picked up the pieces. He felt a thermal wave beneath his feet and the jarring expansion of steel, and then he saw it too.


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I live in Wiltshire, UK. I hold an MA in Creative Writing, Goldsmith's University of London, I have sci-fi stories published in Microhorror, The New Flesh, and of course, Weirdyear.