Tag Archives: The Pump Jack Potion: a short story

“Let’s Hurry,” Annie Flash Fiction by Jeff Posey

Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi Cover Art

Coming in 2013

A flash fiction piece in preparation for the novel-in-progress Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi, by Jeff Posey, set in the year 2054. Sign up for notification by email here.

“There’s a lot I don’t understand,” said Annie, looking at Serles. She met him just moments ago when the whole force of Reagan Newcastle turned upon them like a guided missile, but she couldn’t wait.

“I don’t understand it all, either,” said Serles. He pulled two wide cases from the back of his truck and walked with them like heavy suitcases while men and women unloaded a long trailer. They sent everything down the evacuation tubes, but Serles walked out toward the open desert.

“Where are you going?” Annie asked.

“There isn’t time,” he said, turning his head back to throw his voice to her without turning around.

She ran after him. “Wait.”

He stopped. “Go back, Annie. Go down the evac tube.”

“No.”

“They’ll be here any minute. I’ve got to get these set up.” He hoisted his suitcases.

“I’ll help you.”

“I can do it alone. There’s no reason to risk you, so go back.”

“No.”

He glared at her. She’d only just met him and he looked at her as if he might slap her if he had a hand available.

“Fine,” he said. “Get yourself killed. Your father will like that.”

“My father’s dead.” She knew the moment she said it that Serles didn’t know. His shoulders sagged. “I thought you knew.”

“I knew he disappeared. I knew they were hunting for you.” He shook his head, then began hurrying toward the desert floor.

She followed him.

“Who did it?” Serles asked.

“The one called Zoop.”

Serles nodded. He sat down one of the cases. “There’s a cable in there,” he said. “We need to connect to this other one across the valley.”

Annie knelt and snapped two buckles that freed the housing and exposed a coil of cable atop a box with switches. “What is this?”

“Resonance impulse device. If they’ve used any of our nanocarbon structures, this will vaporize them.”

“How close do they have to get?”

Serles pressed his lips together ad scowled. “We don’t know exactly. It’s still kind of in the testing stage.”

“So it might not work.”

“No. It might not work. That’s why I’d rather you go down the evac tubes.“

“They killed my mother, too,” Annie said, hefting the coil of cable of her shoulder.

For the first time, Serles looked at her in what felt like compassion. Or understanding. Maybe sorrow. In the distance, the beat of helicopter blades pounded up the valley.

“Let’s hurry,” he said.

She held his gaze a moment, the world crystal clear, even magnified. “Yes. hurry.”
Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi, set in 2054 A.D., is about a migration of intellectuals into the deserts of New Mexico where people live like the ancient ones because of changing climate coupled with an intolerable mix of politics and religion that rises in the cities of the American South. Annie is the daughter of Tucker and Lydia Roth of the short story, Girl on a Rock. Serles is the ancestor of the character by the same name in The Pump Jack Potion.

Cover art for Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi is by Derek Murphy of Creativeindie Covers.

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“Irony Like Cold Honey,” Annie Flash Fiction by Jeff Posey

Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi Cover Art

Coming in 2013

A flash fiction piece in preparation for the novel-in-progress Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi, by Jeff Posey, set in the year 2054. Sign up for notification by email here.

The Director waited for Annie and her two-man motorcycle gang in his office, thinking about how to handle her. He knew how badly Reagan Newcastle wanted her, and it put his colony, his little piece of paradise hidden in the desert, at risk. Even if he did nothing, when Newcastle found out, there would be a high price to pay.

On the other hand, Serles would want Annie, too. The Director knew the connection. He used to work at the Los Alamos National Laboratory with Serles. The long, mostly boring, time spent in the lab made them talk about things such as what triggered them to go into science. The Director learned about Tucker Roth, Serles’s high school science teacher, who had a daughter who ran the most lucrative private enterprise in the South. There were more billboards with Annie in provocatively sexy clothes and poses than for any other business. Everybody knew Annie.

It came down to a simple calculation, really, the Director decided. Who is most likely to survive and thrive in the long run? Newcastle or Serles?

The Director broke with Serles for what might be called religious reasons. Serles became an uncompromising atheist, going so far as to write a blog widely circulated asserting that the work of scientists who were not atheists could not be trusted by rational minds.

That pretty much split the Los Alamos camp cleanly into two groups of almost equal size: atheists and those who couldn’t bring themselves to make such a strong declaration. Few were outright Christians or even committed theists. But all had a ticklish feeling that something had to be out there in a godlike way. When the Scientologists collapsed, a couple of their former board members approached the Director and they created a New Age Unitarian-style commune, nearly half the adult population holding PhDs, many former researchers from Los Alamos, almost wholly funded by the Gerald Oliver Dodge Foundation. The GOD Foundation. The irony dripped like cold honey.

Serles did the same down in Chaco Canyon with the atheist scientists and engineers, but the two groups kept in touch, mostly through back channels. The Director hadn’t spoken directly with Serles since before the Second Outage. But when the Director wanted more Serles Sheets, they got them without fuss or hesitation. They shared other technology as well, and the Director knew a dozen or so of his scientists had daily contact with Serles’s people. Just two years ago they completed laying a hidden fiber optic line to Serles’s Chaco facility.

Serles would find out about Annie in a matter of hours.

It would take Newcastle a little longer.

The Director suspected a few Newcastle sympathizers lived among them, but they kept quiet, especially now that Texas seemed on the verge of a civil war that had a strong hint of social cleansing. Most scientists had a natural repulsion to that, except for a small group of statisticians who claimed the only way to save the planet was by a mass human die-off, whether planned or unplanned, deemed by God or merely chance. He imagined Newcastle and Serles having that argument. It would be quite entertaining.

A knock on the door announced his assistant. “Doctor,” she said, “they’re here.”

He nodded. “Show her in.”

 

Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi, set in 2054 A.D., is about a migration of intellectuals into the deserts of New Mexico where people live like the ancient ones because of changing climate coupled with an intolerable mix of politics and religion that rises in the cities of the American South. Annie is the daughter of Tucker and Lydia Roth of the short story, Girl on a Rock. Serles is the ancestor of the character by the same name in the short story, The Pump Jack Potion. Gerald Oliver Dodge is featured in the novel, The G.O.D. Journal.

Cover art for Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi is by Derek Murphy of Creativeindie Covers.

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“Couple of Hoe-ers,” Annie Flash Fiction by Jeff Posey

Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi Cover Art

Coming in 2013

A flash fiction piece in preparation for the novel-in-progress Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi, by Jeff Posey, set in the year 2054. To find out when it’s available, sign up for notification by email here.

Annie stepped onto the soft newly turned soil with bare feet, enjoying the crinkle of fluffed-up dirt, the way it embraced her feet, the footprints that looked like perfect molds. At the end of the new long row squatted two men with hoes, tilting their heads to get the most from the shade of their hats.

When she approached, Theo stuck out his tongue as if he passed out. Anie laughed and stood over them. The other man, a stranger, nodded and looked away.

“Hi! I’m Annie,” she said, putting out her hand.

That got the man’s attention and he looked back at her. Cleared his throat, wiped his hand. “Antone,” he said. He struggled to his feet and she almost fell backward. He towered over her.

She shook his hand, rough as sandpaper, nails like flakes of slate. “How tall are you?” she asked.

He looked away, squinting, then back. “Six-ten. Used to be six-eleven, but I guess I’m shrinking.” He laughed. Theo and Annie laughed with him.

“He works stone,” said Theo. “With his hands.”

“I can feel that,” she said. “So why are you digging such a long single row?” she asked Theo. “You’ve always planted in small plots. To conserve water, you said.”

Theo shrugged. “I figured, why not waste a little water? Just dig a row until we get tired. Then fill it full of seeds that won’t come up. Me and Antone decided that’s the best way to waste our morning.”

Annie looked sideways at him. Theo had a habit of pulling her leg. But she wasn’t sure. “Serles told you to do that?”

“He’s the only one I’d be out hoeing for. Except maybe you.” He raised his eyebrows at her.

Annie shook her head and looked at Antone, who blushed. “He’s a flirt,” she said.

“If you can’t flirt with a hoe-er, then you can’t flirt with anybody,” said Theo. “He wanted to come out and here and do this himself, but I said he was too good to be a hoe-er.”

“Antone,” Annie said, ignoring Theo, “what’s up with this long row?”

Antone turned redder and started shaking. “I’m sorry, Miss Annie.”

“What?” she asked, looking from one man to the other, both of them pressure-cooked full of something. Antone shook his head, picked up his hoe, and walked away, careful not to step in the new earth still holding the imprints of Annie’s bare feet.

“What?” she asked Theo.

“Well, we stopped here because—you’re really going to hate this. I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Then you definitely should.”

“Well, it’s your own fault for being so, you know, gorgeous.”

“That’s my fault?” she asked. She had no idea what Theo was getting at. Or why they’d dug a single long row.

“Well, no, of course not. But you know you are and you really are and…. Well. I just told Antone I wished you were out here with us because I’d always daydreamed you were a hoe-er, and we started laughing, and then just when we stopped, there you came, walking up all barefooted like some kind of garden nymph or something.” Theo sniffed and swallowed. “Poor Antone’s not equipped to handle that sort of thing. Giants just aren’t any good at all around women, hoe-ers or not.”

“I should slap you.”

“Yeah, you probably should.”

“But I won’t. Not today.”

“Put it on my tab. What is that? Three? Four?”

“You’ve deserved a dozen. Where did the son of an Eskimo runner get your kind of, uh, manners?”

He laughed. “I credit my grandfather. Not really my blood grandfather. My dad’s running coach. He was a funny guy.”

“Was his humor as tasteless as yours?”

“Oh, no. That’s my spin on it. I remove all the flavor I can.” He grinned.

Annie sighed and looked at him. He held her stare. “I’ll go ask Serles if you’re not going to tell me.”

“Butterfly wings,” Theo said.

“What?”

“With that new solar-water-sheet material. Like butterfly wings to each side of the row. You know, pulls water out of the air at night and drips water, generates electricity and makes shade during the day. Keeps the soil cooler, discourages weeds, ups food yield. Maybe. We think. This is a test.”

“So is it your idea? Or is Serles making you do it?”

“Oh, hell no. It’s all me, baby. Serles just dreams stuff up in the lab. Somebody else figures out how to manufacture it and what it will do. Then I build stuff out of it to keep us alive out here in this dead-and-dying desert. Something as practical as growing food never occurs to the guy. You know that.”

She stood looking out to the dying scrub brush, hands in her pockets. Yes, she did know how Serles worked, though not quite as clearly as Theo just stated it. Finally, she waved at the long single row and gave a sharp nod of her head. “Not a bad idea.”

“Thank you.”

“For a couple of hoe-ers.”

 

Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi, set in 2054 A.D., is about a migration of intellectuals into the deserts of New Mexico where people live like the ancient ones because of changing climate coupled with an intolerable mix of politics and religion that rises in the cities of the American South. Annie is the daughter of Tucker and Lydia Roth of Girl on a Rock. Serles is the ancestor of the character by the same name in The Pump Jack Potion. Theo is the son of Sean O’Brien from Anasazi Runner. Antone is the son of the main character in The One-Hundredth Goliath.

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“Socrates was Right,” Annie Flash Fiction by Jeff Posey

Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi Cover Art

Coming in 2013

A flash fiction piece in preparation for the novel-in-progress Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi, by Jeff Posey, set in the year 2054. Sign up for notification by email here.

Posts. As far as Annie could see. Like an unfinished fence that marched as straight as an Anasazi road across the desert, needing only cross-wires to be complete.

“It’s an experiment,” said Serles. “We’ll stretch water sheets between them and plant like the ancient ones where the output drips: corn deeply sowed, beans, squash. We’re thinking with these, even a desert could feed people. Millions of people.”

“What’s the downside?” Annie knew as well as anybody the price humans paid for the unintended consequences of past “experiments” such as these that scaled up beyond what nature could support.

Serles puckered his face. Ever the scientist, he wouldn’t dismiss the notion that his Serles Sheets, which he called “water sheets,” could provoke some kind of unforeseen damage. “Native animals won’t be used to it,” he said.

“It’ll change the soil over the long run,” added Theo.

Serles nodded. “If enough sheets went up, it could change rainfall patterns by creating large masses of dry air.”

“Insects will love munching on the new garden,” said Theo.

“There’s one worse than all of those combined,” said Annie. They looked at her. “Millions of people.”

They nodded. An ages-old dilemma. Grow the population, ruin the planet. The only way to imagine a decent future was to maintain a super-low human population or an exceptionally unobtrusive way for millions to live without fouling their nests. That way hadn’t yet been found. To Annie’s thinking, it would require a strong coercive central government aligned with nature and science instead of religion and politics. In the history of humanity, that tended to result in revolution rather than a sustainable stasis.

“That gets into things science can’t solve,” said Serles.

“Guns and God can’t, either,” said Theo.

“So we leave it to chance?” asked Annie. “We can’t do experiments that might feed the world while knowing it could lead us to nearly commit global suicide again.”

Serles shrugged. “Boom and bust is a pretty common phenomenon among living things.”

“What, bacteria? Rabbits? Mosquitoes?” Annie stood. She refused to believe that collective humanity would always predictably behave like vermin or germs. There had to be something.

“Socrates was right,” said Theo.

“What?” asked Annie, though she’d heard her father say the same thing.

“Oh, the democratic state put him to death because he thought democracy would fail about like it has. He said it much more nicely, but he believed the voting majority was too stupid to rule itself. He proposed a special state-supported class of public servants who would be educated and trained for their duties, chosen for intellect and aptitude rather than bloodlines or the ability to fight.”

“That would have its own set of unforeseen consequences,” said Serles. He shook his head again. “Can you educate people into being altruistic and self-limiting? I doubt it.”

“So what do we do?” asked Annie. “Use science to come up with tools for people to thrive and just hand it to them, and then watch them use it to nearly kill us all?”

Serles raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Science doesn’t do that part.”

“Maybe we’re not worth saving,” said Theo. “As a species. Maybe the best thing is to let us kill ourselves off so the planet can go back to doing whatever it does without us.”

“Wow,” said Annie. “So keep the Serles sheets to ourselves. And the nano-carbon materials. Just let the Reagan Newcastles of the world ruin it in the name of God and Government?”

“Maybe that’s God’s plan all along,” said Theo. “Maybe He’s sitting up there laughing his ass off right now. We’re his entertainment channel.”

“Science can’t make those kinds of value judgments,” said Serles, looking at Annie, ignoring Theo.

“No,” said Annie, “people do.”

“If we release the Serles Sheets to the world,” said Theo, “I wager that within a decade, some regime somewhere will find a way to turn it into a weapon of mass destruction.”

Serles looked from Theo to Annie. “You two make it sound hopeless. I refuse to believe that.”

“Me too,” said Annie.

“Not me,” said Theo. “Humans are doomed.”

A hot, dry breeze stirred. A dust devil swirled along the white flats beside the incised Chaco wash.

“We need a new Socrates,” said Annie. “Combined with a Thomas Jefferson, and…I don’t know who else. Einstein, maybe.”

“Jesus,” Theo said. “We need a new martyr. Somebody to murder and then worship.”

“Jesus,” muttered Serles.

“Yep,” said Theo. “Jesus Christ Himownself.”

 

Ellipsis: Annie and the Second Anasazi, set in 2054 A.D., is about a migration of intellectuals into the deserts of New Mexico where people live like the ancient ones because of changing climate coupled with an intolerable mix of politics and religion that rises in the cities of the American South. Annie is the daughter of Tucker and Lydia Roth of Girl on a Rock. Serles is the ancestor of the character by the same name in The Pump Jack Potion. Theo is the son of Sean O’Brien from Anasazi Runner. For an excellent and readable book about Socrates, see I.F. Stone’s The Trial of Socrates.

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Three Free Short Stories by Jeff Posey on Smashwords

These three short stories are free on Smashwordsin any e-format through May 15.

Carl’s Hat Wins Marathon: a short story, by Jeff Posey

Buy on Smashwords for $0.99 free through May 15! in any e-format

Buy on Kindle for $0.99

Buy on Nook for $0.99

At age ninety-two, the last surviving player from Super Bowl XXI in 1987, Carl decides to win the New York Marathon or die trying.

And that’s exactly what he does. In front of the world’s cameras, he crashes to the ground, finished. But his hat doesn’t stay finished. Read the full description …

 

The Pump Jack Potion: a short story, by Jeff Posey

Buy on Smashwords for $0.99 free through May 15! (any e-format)

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What will petroleum be worth after we use up the easy reserves?

It’s the year 2349 and American society has remade itself to run off of sustainable energy. But they’ve also found that crude oil contains something so magical and useful it’s one of the most valuable substances on the planet. Read the full description …

 

Girl on a Rock: a short story, by Jeff Posey

Buy on Smashwords for $0.99 free through May 15! (any e-format)

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When Anasazi archaeologist Tucker Roth found a pretty girl in pink sitting on a rock in the wilderness north of Pagosa Springs, Colorado, he couldn’t help but worry. Such strange behavior sent a chill up his spine.

The girl, Marissa, said she wanted to hide. To sneak. To not be seen. When she finally climbed down and he saw her, he understood why. Read the full description …

 

Thanks, and enjoy!

 

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“Centipede Train,” Annie Flash Fiction by Jeff Posey

A flash fiction piece in preparation for my novel tentatively titled Annie and the Second Anasazi, scheduled for publication in late 2012. Sign up for notification by email here.

Annie appeared out of the sudden madhouse of Fort Worth and asked Theo to take her west. New Mexico. Colorado. She didn’t care. Even El Paso or Amarillo.

“Going to Albuquerque,” said Theo, his voice emotionless and gruff.

“How much?” she asked.

He stopped greasing the wheels on his Centipede Train section and looked at her. That affected his decision. Pretty face. Dirty, but not yet beaten by sun and wind and life. She wore good street clothes that hid her shape. Her fingernails looked manicured as recently as a month or so. She seemed like someone trying to appear to be normal, which is to say desperate. “I ain’t selling tickets, little girl,” he said. Good-looking young women were magnets for trouble. He didn’t need that. But he sure did like her face. For a white girl.

“Ten thousand,” she said.

He ignored her and continued working. The train would leave in an hour or so when the sun angled high enough.

“Twenty-five thousand,” Annie said.

Theo sat up. He pointed at a box wedged into a narrow strip of the carriage platform suspended with wires between the solar canopy and the bicycle wheel rims that rolled on the rail. A heavy bank of batteries rode beneath the carriage platform and gears and bicycle chains ran to an electric motor. Like most Centipede sections it had been home-built and re-built, jerry-rigged and repaired until no two sections looked alike. Each owner, mostly men, maintained and lived on them. The only commonality were their grips fore and aft that allowed them to join into long Centipede Trains that were the slowest way to travel long distances. Three hooped metal bars bulged from one side so two men, or one strong one, could roll the section off the track if a government train came at them.

“Girlie,” Theo said, still pointing, “see that little box riding in the carriage there?”

Annie nodded.

“I get ten grand just for getting that to Abilene.”

Annie grimaced. She knew about prices. Just last month she authorized raising the price of a liter of Patron añejo tequila to more than a thousand dollars. She didn’t understand how people would afford to pay, but plenty did.

“A hundred grand,” she said. She had almost five million stuffed into her worn rucksack beneath dirty clothes and a false bottom.

Theo looked at her a few moments, then shook his head and winked. “Girlie, how about for a quarter-million, I’ll clear the whole damned platform for you all the way to Albuquerque, and I’ll even feed you. They call me the Centipede gourmet. We’ll fatten you up a bit before we get there.” He laughed, sure he had over-priced her, and went back to greasing his wheels.

A few minutes later, Annie stood beside his section again. “Excuse me,” she said.

Theo sniffed and crawled out from underneath. Annie handed him a stack of bills, crisp and banded. He wiped his hands on a filthy rag and took the money, counted it, then looked at her.

“It’s almost everything I have,” she lied.

“Why the hell you want to get to Albuquerque so bad, Lady?”

She looked left and right, shrugged. “It’s not good here anymore.”

“It ain’t any better in Albuquerque. Whole world’s going to hell.”

“But I have to find somebody.”

“Ah. Boyfriend? Mamma?”

“I don’t know him. My father knew him. Told me to find him.”

He eyed her, scratched under his arms, finally nodded. “He’s in Albuquerque?”

“Pagosa Springs. That’s in ….”

“Colorado. I know it. Grew up there.”

“You did?”

He nodded. “What’s your man’s name?”

She looked down. Turned her head.

“Secret, eh? Well then, who’s your Daddy?”

“Roth. Tucker Roth.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Science teacher there in Pagosa. Best teacher I ever had. About everybody liked him. Married a woman with a burned face.” He looked at her a moment. “That wouldn’t be your mother, would it?”

She nodded.

“Well I’m damned. I remember Mr. Roth had a daughter. Angela?”

“Annie.”

“That’s right, Annie. You’re Annie? Ha!” He reached out his hand and shook hers.

“So who’s this guy your father knew?”

She looked aside again.

“Maybe I know him.”

She sighed. “Serles. Samuel Langhorne Serles.”

“Well I’m damned again. I graduated a year ahead of him. Smartest son-bitch Pagosa probably ever had. I remember your father liked him a lot.”

“Do you know where he is? Is he still in Pagosa?”

“That I don’t know, Little Lady. But I expect you can find something about him there. People will remember Mr. Roth, and they’ll tell you.”

“So would my father know you?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. He would. Nobody forgets this Eskimo face in Pagosa.”

“Are you? Are you the son of that Anasazi Runner guy?”

He nodded again. “Theo,” he said. “Theo O’Brien.”

“Do your parents still live there?”

“Nope. Burbank, California.”

“You ever go back?”

“No reason.”

“But you’ll take me?”

“Albuquerque, lady, Albuquerque. No Centipede line goes to Pagosa.” He looked at the money in his hand and shook his head. “This is too much. Just give me a hundred.”

“But we agreed.”

“Nope. Didn’t.”

“But ….”

“Food’s on you. Can you cook?”

“Well, not really.”

“Then you’ll just have to learn, won’t you?” He dropped to his hands and knees and rolled back beneath his section.

 

This is exploratory flash fiction for my work-in-progress, tentatively titled Annie and the Second Anasazi, about a migration of intellectuals into the deserts of New Mexico where people live like the ancient ones because of changing climate coupled with an intolerable mix of politics and religion that rises in the cities of the American South.

Note that Samuel Langhorne Serles is the inventor of the Serles Sheet mentioned in The Pump Jack Potion, and the backpacker in Walk, Not Stay. Also, Annie is the daughter of Tucker and Lydia Roth of Girl on a Rock.

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“The Pump Jack Potion,” a Kindle short story by Jeff Posey Now Available

The Pump Jack Potion: a Kindle short story

Buy on Kindle for $0.99 FREE through January 17! (free to Amazon Prime members until April 11, 2012)

What will petroleum be worth after we use up the easy reserves?

It’s the year 2349 and American society has remade itself to run off of sustainable energy. But they’ve also found that crude oil contains something so magical and useful it’s one of the most valuable substances on the planet.

This is the story of a petroleum prospector of the future, wandering the San Juan Basin in northwestern New Mexico, the stomping grounds of the First Anasazi 1,300 years earlier, as well as the immigrants who flocked there after the first collapse in 2054 to establish a Second Anasazi colony — these were the ancestors of petroleum prospector Richard Langhorne Serles.

The Pump Jack Potion is a single short story that will take average readers less than a half-hour to read.

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