Each Tuesday, rather than a POSSIBLY IRRITATING
ESSAY, I'd like to both challenge you and lend a helping hand. I generate more
speculative and teen story ideas than I can ever use. My family rolls its collective
eyes when I say, "Hang on a second! I just have to write down this idea..."
Here, I'll include the initial inspiration (quote, website, podcast, etc.) and then
a thought or two that came to mind. These will simply be seeds -- plant, nurture,
fertilize, chemically treat, irradiate, test or stress them as you see fit. I
only ask if you let me know if anything comes of them.
SF Trope: Alien
artifacts
Hans Bonhoeffer
and Sa’Niah Green pursed their lips as they leaned over the Plexiglas box
protecting the ‘Pseudo-Tibetan Nazi Buddha’ under the lights of the University
of Minnesota’s Weisman Art Museum.
His voice heavy
with a German accent, Hans said, “Why would they carve it out of meteorite
iron?”
“You’d think
they’d just sell it. I’ll bet they coulda got twenty grand on ebay,” said
Sa’Niah.
Hans snorted,
straightening up. “Even so, it’s strange. Why would anyone go to the trouble
carving it and then pretending it was collected by Himmler?”
Sa’Niah
straightened up as well and looked at her friend. They were about as opposite
as possible – he had blonde hair, blue eyes, almost two meters tall, lanky to
the point of skinny with hands large enough to grip a basketball with just five
fingers (if he cared, he was a European football fanatic). She was barely a
meter and a half tall, her grandparents had come from Sudan, she was squat and
round (her friends called her Black Winnie – after Winnie the Pooh) and she
wanted nothing more than to play on the Minnesota Lynx.
Good thing he was
gay, otherwise she’d live one frustrated life. They were also both history
majors. Which reminded her, “Hans – how’s your book?”
He looked up and
arched an eyebrow, “Why do you think I’m standing here with you discussing
pseudo-Nazi alien artifacts?”
She snorted
softly, “Because we’re best friends?”
“No, because
you’re the only person I know of who’s read Harry Turtledove.” She grinned.
They’d met in the Wilson Library during finals first semester of their freshman
year the year before. They’d gotten into an argument over who would be able to
check out the newest Turtledove novel. Ultimately Hans had won because he held
the book over his head and there was no way for her to get at it. She said,
“It’s a good thing you decide to share it with me at Caribou.”
He grinned at her
and said, “Speaking of which.” He lifted his chin and made a motion toward
Dinkytown proper.
She nodded and
said, “I’ll even walk outside.”
Mock-amazed, he
said, “What’s wrong? Have you contracted some spinal fungus you haven’t told me
about and you are preparing to die?”
She laughed.
Several other arts patrons glared at her. The Weisman wasn’t for giggling
college sophomores. They headed for the exit then started up East River
Parkway, heading for Southeast Fifth Street. Sa’Niah said, “So, what’s the
story?”
Hans fell into one
of his brooding moods. They’d almost reached Dinkytown when he said, “It’s not
a story.”
“What?”
“It has to do with
my family,” he said, his accent thicker than usual. She’d noticed that happened
when he got emotional – which happened every time he broke up from his current
love interest. She just listened and walked, huffing slightly. When he wasn’t
paying attention, he took long, long strides and it was hard for her to keep
up.
“What would a fake
Nazi-Buddhist made out of meteorite iron have to do with your family?”
They reached the
Caribou, ordered their favorites and settled in a booth that allowed him to
stretch his legs before he said, “My family were Nazis.”
She blinked in
surprise. “What?”
“My grandparents –
both sides, except for one of my father’s uncles. His name was Dietrich and he
was executed by the Nazis.” She didn’t know what to say. He continued, “They
also dealt with the regime in antiquities.” He paused, scowling then said, “The
Nazi Buddha? It’s legitimate.”
“How would you
know?”
“Because I have a
picture of my great-great-great grandfather holding it. And he does not look
Human.”
Names: ♀ American,
English/Irish; ♂ German
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