The Eve Project
(Machines of the Little People)
by Tegon Maus
Contemporary / Soft Sci-Fi
Date Published: April 22, 2014
~Synopsis~
Ben Harris’s sister died of cervical cancer more than three years ago… his best friend and her husband, Roger Keswick, disappeared the day before the funeral. For the next six months everyone from the local police to the Department of Defense searched for him but to no avail… it was as if he had simply fallen off the face of the planet only to reappear at work as if nothing were out of the ordinary at all.
Then by the purest of coincidences Ben finds himself pulled back into Roger’s life only to discover he has remarried… to Jessica… a woman that looks, sounds and acts just like his dead sister. To complicate things, Roger is insistent his home, his car, his life is infested with tiny elf like creatures he calls the Katoy. He claims they run massive machines under his house and watch his every move… every move that is until Jessica is found bludgeoned to death in his living room and Roger is nowhere to found… again.
~Excerpt~
"When Roger and I first met, he was unbelievably attentive and charming. He did little magic tricks, sleight of hand, to make me laugh. He spoke of wondrous things so far over my head it took my breath away. It was like he spoke another language. He told me about his inventions and designs for machines the likes of which have never been seen before. We talked about the future, two futures really; one sounded like heaven and the other seemed unimaginable. I thought he was teasing me, flirting with me with his brilliance." Jessica said softly. "Now, I'm afraid I only resemble someone he once loved."
I understood how she felt. Her words touched me far deeper than I cared to admit. This went on far longer than I expected. It was the push I needed to see for myself what was in the tree and who Roger was talking to.
"I'll go," I said softly.
"No. Just watch a moment," Jessica said. She crossed the room, shutting off the lights before returning to the sink. We waited for our eyes to adjust. Roger walked around the tree, first in one direction and then in the other as Tilley continued to sit up and beg.
The light he carried flashed into the window and then in and out of the upper branches of the tree.
Slowly, silently, Jessica leaned forward and slid open the window.
It took a moment for Roger to come around to our side of the tree so we could hear him.
"Yes, I agree. He's here now." He spoke hoarsely at the tree, trying not to be too loud. "No. I won't. He's not ready. He wouldn't understand."
"Who's he talking about?" Audry whispered.
"More importantly, who's he talking to?" I added.
"Shush, just watch," Jessica whispered
Roger wandered around the tree once more before returning to the same spot.
We waited.
From somewhere in the yard, or maybe the house, a low dull drone began. Barely audible, it seemed to vibrate the floor before I actually heard it, like a washing machine on spin in another room. The tone deepened until it seemed to be coming from the center of my chest.
Outside Roger threw his arms wide and yelled, "Hit me, Bob."
Suddenly, a thin beam of bright blue light appeared, a laser for lack of a better description, from somewhere in the upper part of the tree. He arched his back, standing on his toes as if lifted by the light. It struck him dead center in his chest, holding him there for a moment or two.
"Oh, Momma," he cried with excitement and the light vanished. He crumpled to the ground on his hands and knees… laughing like a madman.
"That's the fourth time. I've asked, but he won't tell me," Jessica said flatly and crossed the room to turn the light back on. "You ask him, Ben."
I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else... devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn't friendly, I just wasn't "people orientated". Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.
The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can't remember what it was about... something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.
It wasn't a deliberate conscious thought, it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. "Be as detailed as you can," we were told.
I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it's making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an out right lie mine you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn't be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of "it could happen" very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.
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