[Why Cure Pointed Ears?] [Pg-13] [Sci-Fi] [Mystic Fantasy] [Disability]

Why Cure Pointed Ears? 

Written By J. J. Bartel. 

PG-13, Sci-Fi, Mystic, Fantasy, Disability

Copyright 2024

 

Ever since the battle for the world’s light, even the sparks have dimmed. We used to be four great moon stations, with one central dwarf planet. Our colony cluster was one of the best on this side of the solar system. We mined the rocks safely, we made the rockets securely, and our lasers were not tools of war, at least not yet. A strange sickness overtook a distant moon colony, and they became mad with darkness. We were the nearest settlement, so we were bitten first. They tried to eat our planet, our home, so we had to fight. For the first time, we had to use the lasers on our neighbors, we had to kill them in our rockets, and we had to collapse the tunnels. We won, but at a terrible cost. Their sickness was not just of flesh but of metal, too. The moons became isolated and separated. Space changed, and around us was no longer a void, but a corpse mist that stopped our ships from flying. Our bodies changed, and not just puberty. Your parents can tell you about your changing body when you are human. What happens when the adults start changing in new ways, too? Who tells the adults what to do when their skin starts turning from white to dark plumb, when their ears get longer and pointed, when they start shrinking, and living so much longer? I don’t know if I am an adult or not. I was seven when the war started, and it was over before my eighth birthday. It’s been over sixty years, and I have been dealing with zits, body order, and greasy hair for thirty years and only last year did I start growing a beard. Thirty childhood years without my parents. Thirty years of puberty! 

I have been staring at my reflection every morning at my unaging, purpling face. Usually, there is fear over the next blue zit or what new body part I will start sweating from. This time, as I stare in the mirror, the sad thoughts seem weaker. I smile; my teeth are thankfully unchanged. I dry and get dressed in the one-piece baggy outfit. It covers me from neck to foot. I tap the sides of the left cuff and summon my favorite color outfit pattern. I went to the common room and found her. 

She waves me over, shouting, “It’s your lucky outfit today!” Krystal is a much lighter purple, with painted pink nails, and her one-piece outfit was a scene of starry twilight, complete with all four moons. 

I say, “That’s because today is the day!” 

“Novan, are you really going through with this?”

“Yeah, I wanted to eat breakfast with you before I go to the launch room.” 

“You really think there’s a chance?” 

“With my hyper-ionizing purple blood, I have been able to line the rocket exterior with my newly made repulsers. It will force the puss mist apart, and I will be able to get to the medical moon. If I have any hope of getting cured of this purple plague, it will be there.” We headed to the cafeteria and got our trays. 

While Krystal grabbed raspberries, she asked, “You mean if the repulsers force the yellow mist apart?”

“My test drone worked a few days ago.” I grabbed a water pack and peach oatmeal. 

She got kiwi juice and asked, “Even if you get there, can you change into a white human?” 

I hated that question. So I shook my head and walked to one of the many unoccupied tables, adding brown sugar to the oatmeal. 

She sat next to me and said, “I get it. You think it’s a disease. Turning purple, exploding zits.”

“Doomed to be three and a half feet tall, bone pain for thirty years, and I just started growing a beard.” I start eating the oatmeal. 

“Three hairs don’t make a mustache.” She said, smiling coyly and sipping her drink. I just frowned at her and kept eating. She then said, “Look, my family has a history of bone cancer. I lost grandma and three aunts. Before, I had the marks in my blood for it, but now, it’s gone. This purpling has saved my life and a lot of other people’s too.” 

I finish the oatmeal and look her in the eye. “Why bring it up now?” 

“Because, even if we bring back the cure, you might be the only one who wants to take it.” 

“Wait, We?” I asked. 

She finished her food and said, “I am coming with you. Success or failure, I don’t want you to go alone.”

“You can’t,” I said, finishing my food. 

“Why not? We have been friends for a long time, and now, I can’t be with you in your greatest achievement?” 

“No. I removed the second seat last week to fit in the modifications. I could only take another person with me if they sat on my lap.” 

Krystal blushed, a mix of blue with pink freckles. After lunch, but before breakfast, the pair walked past a dusty hallway and into the rocket launch bay. All but one were dusty. The clean one had blood carefully streaked across it, like blue tiger stripes. Multiple thin nodes covered the rocket. I pressed the panel on the side and poked the passcode in. The cockpit, then the stairs opened up. I sat down, and Krystal sat on top of me, blushing all the way. She blocked my vision, but I managed to strap the two of us in. Two layers of flexible glass sealed us in the rocket ship.  I tapped my left sleeve edge, and my clothing formed a helmet. Mine was a standard grey, while hers was mostly black with a few faint constellations. A few more buttons were pressed, levers pushed, the rocket launch bay door opened, and we started flying. On the upper right screen, it showed a simple fight path. In less than 4 human hours, we would make it. 

Krystal asked, “How will we know that your blood and machines worked?” 

“The metal rotting puss in our moon’s atmosphere is thin and highly reactive. It’s thin enough that with the proper energy vibration, the puss clumps together moves away, drifts away, and is built with a repulsion. It will automatically push us back if we can’t break through.” From the cockpit, they both could see an approaching faint mustard-yellow mist. As we got closer and closer, we could see bits of legs and arms the occasional head fragment that looked like a charred lemon. 

“I thought we collected all of the bodies.” Krystal whispered, “Why?” 

As we got even closer, I noticed that there was a hole in the mist, like a puncture wound. “See the hole where it’s thin, that’s where the drone went through. The repulsion must be effective for the hole to last for days.” 

Krystal whispered, “Are the bodies moving?” 

“We are moving fast enough that it looks like they are moving,” I said. “Brace yourself! If we can’t cut through, we will bounce back in three, two -” A mass half slammed, half grabbed our rocketship, and Krystal screamed. I didn’t blame her. It was a humanoid figure, but there were no legs, no belly button. It did have a burnt yellow skin, sunken eyes, and jagged teeth. Its nails were like claws, trying to pierce through our cockpit glass and force its way inside. Neither of us wanted to find out why. As it pounded on the glass, it formed a crack. It smiled at it and pounded harder. I could see the malevolence, the hunger like we were oatmeal and peaches. 

Krystal grabbed a lever and pushed it. The wipers meant for knocking away trash did not even annoy the monster. “Novan, Do something!” Krystal shouted. She switched positions with me. 

“I don’t know!” I screamed out. The ever-increasing pounding started cracking the outer layer of glass and making edge cracks in the inner glass. Without thinking, I slammed my hand into the inner crack, the jagged glass cutting into me, and fresh purple blood flowed from my hand. With throbbing hand pain, scared, I screamed, “No!” from the depths of my being. My blood leaking out released a purple mist and blasted it away.  The shock also flung me back into my seat. Now I sat on Krystal as she looked at my glowing, pulsing blood. It was the only thing separating us from the void of space. We sat together in silence for another two hours. I think we both drifted off to sleep somehow because the landing alarm rang out, waking us both. There was a crowd in the landing area as we landed. 

We heard over our communication system, “Who is this?” 

Krystal flipped the communication lever and said, “I am Krystal, and with me is Novan. We came from the production moon!” 

“There are people still alive from there?” 

Krystal and I looked at each other with concern, and I said, “Yes. What has happened since the War for Light?” 

“War of light, there hasn’t been a conflict since the outbreak.” the voice said over the communicator. “One of the other planets discovered something that changed human genetics. From all we could piece together, their experiments were incomplete, resulting in a frenzied mental plague. The yellow puss was powerful but incomplete. We lost contact with your moon and assumed that no one was left alive.” 

“We are alive, and with your help, we will be able to cure the changes?” 

“Changes?” 

“Yes, our first contact with the puss was a crash. An infected ship got stuck in one of the moon’s natural tunnels. Previously, dark tunnels glowed with infected lemon light. Even though we mostly survived, we found ourselves changing.” 

Krystal added, “We were hoping that we could run our blood through the medical bay and possibly create a cure-” 

The voice interrupted, “Why would anyone want to be cured of evolutionary advancement?” 

Novan was shocked, mouth agape. 

Krystal asked, “What do you mean?” 

“You are free to enter, and we can talk more then.” The communicator went silent. The two looked at each other before Novan shrugged his shoulders and started pressing buttons and pulling levers. The cockpit opened up, and they saw a yellow guy nearby. 

Novan cried out, startled, and put himself between Krystal and the yellow guy. 

Yellow shrugged. “Understandable, considering you survived a war. While we may look similar to the infected, we have our minds for the most part. Be careful with Pluto, though. He ate lemons whole before he evolved and has only gotten weirder since.” 

Novan somewhat relaxed while Krystal asked, “Enough with the games. What do you mean, evolution?” 

“The yellow puss contained significant genetic advancement. We think there is potential for three evolutionary changes, yellow, orange, and purple variations, each with unique quirks.” 

“You mean thirty years of puberty?” 

“Extended lifespan and blood superpowers are part of it, too. A long time ago, dyslexia was considered a mental disorder with no value. It turns out that when everyone studies, the people with the right mental quirks get ahead.” 

Novan asked, “You really think this, this disability is progress?!” 

Yellow continued on, “Yes, We were able to get yellow and orange but never the purple. With our combined powers, we will be able to have a full understanding of the puss. We might even be able to clean up your moon’s atmosphere with the analysis. 

“Son!” Two voices cried out. Two yellow characters ran towards him. Novan jumped back, startled, but the two hugged him. It was his parents! Yellow now, but parents. Their ears poked him, a strong static shock sticking his face. 

He looked at his parents and returned the hug. His yellow mother said, “Son, you’re growing a beard.”

Yellow father said, “It’s a nice start, son! Guess you will need help with the razor.” 

Novan looked at them and hesitantly said, “Yeah. I might need help with shaving.”