Future Lovecraft (3 page)

It’s hard to be human. I know, I know. I’ve been human, here and there, now and again, for a nonce and millennia. What’s much harder, though, is being inhuman, immortal, and utterly free. Let me tell you that we cosmic beings don’t understand our wars and intrigues any more than any bystander peering through the small end of the big telescope in Ladd Observatory, Providence, Rhode Island. We do it for fun, because we can’t die for fun. The New Ones muddled along for a bit because they pretended to still be human, even though humans were little more than gooey amoebae to the New Ones. But after an audience with me, the New Ones had to force themselves to evolve past the pleasing lies of ego and limb, to realise two very important things: One, that their great escape was nothing more than my personal outflanking of my old enemies on their home planet. Two, what they truly were—infinitesimally small fundamental particles floating about in infinite space, purposeless and just clever enough to realise that all their dreams and hopes and loves and tiny glimpses of enlightenment were meaningless, that they were a less-than-meaningless joke I told the Old Ones to cheese them off.

And then nobody ever stopped screaming.

FOR THE WIN!

TRI-TV

By Bobby Cranestone

Bobby Cranestone
was born in a quiet and ancient part of Germany, spent its early childhood with the beaux arts, and was a devotee student of music, poetry and books, both fictitious and scientific. Following an early fascination with the mysterious and strange, Bobby gave life to scary stories and humorous fables. Bobby is a contributor to both fanzines and discussion boards in newspapers, and also the writer of fiction and composer of weird ambient sounds, with a small fan following in the UK. Author of “The City of Melted Iron”, published in
Candle in the Attic Window
.

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***

Sports: Mad Head Rally in the Mars Arena

Kevin Haggerty speeds forward on his shoggoth, Marley. He passes Nos. 4 and 13 and enters just into the 42nd round. That’s what I call “his olde self”. After his longtime absence, there were some who believed in his retirement. After the rumours of doping his shoggoth, he had taken some time off, but I say nonsense...A guy like Haggerty doesn’t need to cheat. What’s that! Collis draws close to challenge the previous year’s champ, but Haggerty and Marley show him only a cloud of cold dust....

That’s sports; that’s....

*switch*

***

The Literary Circle

Our guests today are the ghouls clmck, chrmk, mkrmnm, and Dr. Nrmckmnpf. Dr. Nrmckmnpf is winner of the Sacred Leaf of Irem—the City of Pillars—the Max donated by the Venus Foundation and the Pulitzer Prize 2228.

Today, we will discuss the new translation of the
Necronomicon
into Sanskrit,
Die Unheimlichen Kulten of Van Junzt
and the classic,
My world is your world—what are you gonna do with it?

*switch*

***

Welcome to the new issue of the
Extraterrestrial Cook Book
. Today, we will prepare a tasty meal for four and what we need are 100 grams of mushrooms, five kilograms of Stegosaurus
kotelett
, five mint leaves, four juicy tomatoes, one mouldy yoghurt, and three Old Ones. You’ll ask, “Four Persons, will three Olde Ones be enough?” You’ll see there will be enough left, even to prepare a dessert.

We start cutting the mushrooms and the mint leaves. The tomatoes are cooked over a low flame, while we give the Stegosaurus
koteletts
a hearty dance in the fire; five hours will be enough. Just stop when all the liquids are gone and the meat has a nicely black crust.

We take the tomatoes from the fire, then, as prepared, peel them and push them through a sieve. We put mushrooms, mint and tomatoes into a cooking pot, add the yoghurt, and let it steam.

Now, over to the Olde One heads. Rather tough is this stuff, I can tell you. We use, therefore, a pinch of robust
korund
and open the heads from the flipped-up underside, starting from the middle to the starpoints. We do this five times...and again. I prepared this for you. After removing the ganglia system...Don’t waste ‘em; this will make a wonderful desert served with cream and strawberries...you can have a good look at the brains, light-blue and semi-liquid to the touch, just as they should be.

Now we fill our mushroom/mint/tomatoes tart into the head, chop the
koteletts
into cubes of seven-inch length, and add them, decorated with a blossom. This won’t even just be a heaven for the tongue, but for the eye, as well....

Enjoy!

*switch*

***

The Literary Circle

*glibber glibber knugk* (subtitles, English translation)—In your opinion, does the new issue lack its former esprit? It’s charmless....”

*glibber knk glib gnub*—“Just the opposite. I believe that the Sanskrit translation is another step to a better understanding of what we call acceptance of....”

*gnib*—“Acceptance of what?”

*glib glib glib*—“Of the art, as such, what it means to adjust to the deeper sense of life.”

*gub brb blrb*—“I always hear ‘acceptance’; what about the practical advantage?”

*gub blb grb*

*knub*

*gub kn brurb*

*switch*

***

The topic of today:

“More freedom for the Dholes”

An assemblage of the seven leading races has come together to discuss the petition of the Dholes to have more rights on their planet, Yaddith. The problem is that the race of the Nug-Soth also lives there and that the petition also includes a plea for a healthy lifestyle and nourishment, which concerns all the other races also living on this planet, because they usually are the nourishment of the Dholes. We welcome historian Zkauba of the much-honored guild of Yaddith wizards, astro-sociologist Dr. Arthur Peterman, the Tolero Brothers, Dr. Rosa Vanderman (who is a specialist on the physiology of both Dholes and Nug-Soth), Kyle Feld from the United Army of Planet Earth, philosoph Ka-run Nuats, and the Blateleys from Wichita. Also, do we heartily welcome Dhole 7459/K.

7459/K, please start with your arguments. You’ll have the first word....

*switch*

***

Soap Opera

Klimax Group proudly presents:
The House of Nouth

In this episode: Will Zathatera face new troubles? Just released from jail—after he found out that his mother is, in truth, his father and a vegetarian—he accidentally killed his estranged parent and an innocent neighbour, while on drugs during a fishing holiday. What he doesn’t know is that his mother/father isn’t truly dead, but subscribed to a Malaysian dance troupe, while his neighbour...is truly dead.

But he won’t have any rest. Unhappy, he tries to interfere in the marriage of his stepdaughter, Althera...Will he succeed?

We press thumbs.

*switch*

***

Now, you simply break the three legs off, and fill the beetle with the garlic and a bit of Croni liquor...I’ve just prepared this....

*switch*

***

*glb glib*

*brb brb*

*switch*

***

Haggerty and Marley are close to the hing straight. The decision must come now....

*switch*

***

The Dhole seems restless. After the argument with historian Zkauba, he/she/it seems to be losing ground. The sympathies of the public are clearly on the side of the natives, as the voting shows....

***

The new single by the Alhambra Flutes....

...accompanied by the Tolero Brothers....

“You just can’t catch me...but if you did, I wouldn’t care.”

***

Gardening with Modern Cybernetics

The secrets of unique blossoming, and colours simply from out of this world, revealed by the Ythians.

Make your neighbour rip his head off!

***

Crime on Io

Seven Mooncats and a youngish Zook are dead, but who’s the victim?

***

Documentary:
Delve with us into the ruins of Ib and rediscover astonishing revelations of an unknown past.

***

If you call now, we’ll even add this useful pincer at the price of only 30 Crex!

***

Chemistry for Kids

Part 1—
How to build a door between the worlds.

Part 2—
Nitrogen bombs in three easy steps.

***

The News

The price of energy decreases, due through the find of a new crystal specimen on Venus.

***

Headhunting Live

Who will catch the criminal on the run? Call now...McCarty and his team of Old Ones are, as usual, prepared...This ain’t fun for the juvenile nightgaunt.

***

Opera

Dubbed in Ancient Egyptian and Modern English.

Kla (Hero):
What do you want of me?

Ste (Heroine):
Kill him.

Kla:
I cannot do this.

Ste:
Kill him.

Kla:
Don’t tempt me, dearest; don’t tempt me.

***

The Dhole broke free! It’s rampaging through the conference room. The assembled are panic-stricken. It’s breaking down the door and moves out of sight.

Wait for more breaking news.

***

Only metres remain between Haggerty and the final. But what now? A Dhole enters the racecourse. It squeezes two participants into the corners and keeps aiming at Haggerty, simply sweeps him away....

What a tragic ending of a gorgeous day in sports....

***

News:
Dhole heading for the Portal.

News:
Energy prices slightly increasing.

***

*glrb nub?*

*grub clrb?*—“What does the Dhole here?”

*knub crlb*—“Take
that
for breaking my headstone!”

***

“Out of my kitchen! Oh, no, the dessert!”

***

Chemistry for Kids

“The portal works and, as suspected, it reveals a Dhole...a Dhole?! Argh!”

“It’s getting at the bomb!”

“Well observed, Mickey!”

BOOOMB!

***

News:
Studio Five has mysteriously exploded. Tragically, it also caught an energy depot close by...Stay tuned for more news.

News:
Prices for energy high as never before!

***

Opera

“What do you want me to do?”

“Kill, kill, kill!”

*switch*

Snow

*switch*

*switch*

Shut down due to maintenance.

***

Stay tuned.

***

TRI-TV was yesterday! Today, we have printed paper!

DO NOT IMAGINE

By Mari Ness

Mari Ness’
fiction and poetry have appeared in multiple print and online publications, including
Clarkesworld
,
Fantasy Magazine
,
Shine: An Anthology of Optimistic Science Fiction
,
Goblin Fruit
, and
Ideomancer
. Further small insights into her mind and work can be found at:
mariness.livejournal.com
, and on Twitter at: mari_ness. She lives in central Florida, and openly admits to being rather grateful that the streetlight at the end of the block keeps monsters away at night.

You, in your long, grey ships

of cold rationality and hard mathematics,

shimmering along the path of light,

bending time in your starswept path:

Do not imagine yourselves free of madness.

Not the rich, pulsing joy of winedrunk dance,

nor the madness that lets poets speak to stars

and hear songs from the dripping waters

of rain caught upon roofs of steel,

or the cold, silent songs

pulsing from the deep.

Not the madness of high towers,

of concrete poured over pulsing grass,

or the frenzy of human dance,

of instruments and drums,

singers chanting in the dark,

collapsing with the sun.

Those are the insanities of earth,

the madness that only earth and water

can beat into bone and brain.

But the madness of the dark,

the madness of the silent stars,

the madness of the dark matter

that will move upon your ships—

Do not imagine yourselves so free.

Do not imagine that in this darkness,

nothing awaits.

Do not imagine that no one

will hear you scream.

In the spaces between stars,

our tentacles pulse.

We see your grey ships

and thirst.

We eat upon human screams,

and in the shadows of the stars,

we hunger,

hunger.

The bright stars in all their frenzy

hide us well.

We hunger. We hunger.

You cannot imagine.