The Statuettes

Author Note: This was a short story based on a prompt by the Short Shots Story Contest


{Bitem: 1221635}

As I just couldn't find myself cutting off 915 words without completely bungling the story, I have just posted it and left it like that. Maybe I’ll make another one.


The Statuettes

By Mordecai J Banda

The fine wind-swept sands of the West Reef Beach, Australia were one of the few remaining decent beaches in the whole world. In fact, it was almost a scientific miracle that it existed at all. It could still boast a constant, albeit small, amount of sunlight, and some of the original animals around the beaches. There were no sharks; they were less inclined to hang around ever since the world actually started a meltdown that would lead, inevitably, to an ice age. Not immediately, but sooner or later. everyone knew this.

Therefore the beach was empty, save for two souls who felt that they were in love, and were not really sure since they were still young and had dated for only two months before what looked like the world falling apart around them brought them together and jumped Benjamin Keynes, 20, to propose to Michelle Myles, 21. She accepted of course, and though at first they were uneasy and awkward, they fell right in pace and left the worrying world behind them. They went to the beach almost every day, since work was out for a while. Both suspected it would be permanent, since they both worked as field surveyors for Laserpine Lumbers. The company had the grim reaper eyeing its neck.

The sunlight was just enough, with wispy innocent feather clouds floating past. Everything was on the move now. The sand, uncovered by heavy rains and insane tides, was grayish now. All the water and wind had made some impressive herringbone patterns in its parchment, Benjamin pointed at these, with Michelle by his side. They had hooked their arms together, and were alternatively looking at the sand and to the sea, never towards the town and then the city, so as not to spoil the spell of peace they were experiencing. By mutual agreement they both walked the beach with their footwear on, sacrificing some amount of calm in exchange for less likely encounters with twitchy crabs or jellyfish that had been washed ashore. It wasn't exactly an apocalyptical amount of dead animals, but they were there, and few as they were, annoyingly hard to spot.

"We've got to get a beach house." Michelle didn't intend to make a joke but realized this too late.

Benjamin laughed,

"You better bring that humor with you everywhere."

She sighed. They kept walking a while. Benjamin looked at her, raised his eyebrows,

"What's up?"

"It's just... You know..."

Benjamin looked at the sand too and reluctantly replied,

"Yeah, I do. But maybe we can worry then."

"That's exactly the same attitude that's gotten us humans in this situation."

Benjamin stopped and looked at her. That remark stung, and had brought him out of the trance of tranquility.

"Well, what do you want to do? Build an ark? Talk to the president?"

She looked at him questioningly, and then it dawned to her,

"Sorry, did I insult you?"

But it came out sounding sarcastic. Michelle was sure she didn't mean the sarcasm... hadn't she?
Benjamin unclasped his arm from hers, not roughly, however.

"I thought you were more realistic about these things, Michelle, I mean, what are we to gain from arguing over something that's practically happened. In the end the guys up there will deal with the problem, not us."

"It’s always 'higher up' 'higher up' for you. Don't you like to get your hands dirty sometimes, I mean, Ben, this is the end of the world we're talking about."

Benjamin started walking,

"Hey, my jobs just a land surveyor, don't expect me to come up with Keynes' Postulate to Prevent the Next Ice Age. Or something like that..." His voice trailed off.

Michelle punched him in the shoulder,

"You’re so stubborn and ignorant and difficult!" Three playful punches, Benjamin didn't respond, she frowned,

"Ben-?"

She took a step in front of him, looked at his face, saw that he was looking across the ocean.

She followed his gaze.

Dwarf waves crashed, a gentle wind blew, and out there in the stark clear and flat sea, one, two... four... five, six, seven, eight boats. There were eight small, rich brown rowboats with no oars and no pilots, floating in with the tide. They were bare but seemed to drift as though pushed by a motor. Their progress was silent and sleek. The water paved at the blade of their stern, with white bubbles forming on its sides. Otherwise there was no other visual disturbance of the surrounding water. The waves, though small, were enough to rock any boat that size and steer it of course, but these boats kept coming. Maintaining their eerie trajectory, towards the beach to Benjamin and Michelle, who felt their hairs rise. They acknowledged that something out of the ordinary was happening here.

There wasn't much time to gape at them from that distance, because soon they were crawling onto shore, not stopping until they were all on the sand and completely out of the water. They arrived in haphazard rows, their ghost force vanishing and leaving them as they were. Benjamin and Michelle stared at the boats, stupefied. Even the sea and the wind seemed to hold their breath. Benjamin broke the silence,

"What the hell?"

Michelle nodded, even though Benjamin wasn't looking at her. She took an involuntary step forward, then another, and she stared walking towards the boats.

"Michelle! Wait?"

Benjamin's voice petered out pathetically, he stood where he was, staring at the boats with something akin to terror. Michelle had reached the closer of the boats, one that sat between two others. She studied the wood as she came closer, and yes, it looked real. She knelt down next to the craft, and brought out her hand to touch its hull, but Benjamin's hand shot out and stopped her,

"Wait! We don't know what might happen."

Michelle looked at her fiancé’s scared face and brushed the hand away. She reached out and touched the boat...

Nothing happened.

It was wet, and cold. She brushed her hand along the wood, and the roughness was real. These boats were real, and they had floated in on the beach out of nowhere. Michelle was sure that when they had arrived here, there had been completely nothing to see. No people and definitely no boats.

"Michelle." Benjamin said in a different voice. Michelle knew almost immediately that he had seen something inside the boat.

She rose to her feet and looked into the boat. There were two planks set in the boat to allow for someone to sit in them. There was no rubbish to indicate anyone had used the boat, nor were they any oars or oar locks. There was a gold bust sitting on where the pilot of the boat was supposed to sit. Benjamin was the one with the reaching hand this time.

Michelle let him reach for it, and take it.

To Benjamin the feel of the finely lathed surface spoke volumes of the identity of the object. It was heavy, and this confirmed the fact that it was pure gold. Benjamin, heart thudding with apprehension, turned it round and looked at it. It wasn't exactly a bust, more like a statuette. It depicted a man, kneeling down in prayer. Four words were written across his forehead, flanked by long strands of unruly hair. "The Statuette of Frost"

"I can't believe this." Michelle whispered.

"There isn't anything to believe." A terse reply came.

Michelle and Benjamin jumped and looked at the source of the voice: a heavy man with a black suit. It was so flat and featureless it looked like a card board box. The man looked ridiculous in it, but his countenance was easily intimidating. He was a bald, and wore large shades that had no gaps at the nose at all, making it look more like a visor. His mouth was thin, and his skin pale and blistered, like he was suffering a terrible disease. Benjamin took two steps back, shielding his wife while holding the statuette in front of him, wondering what was happening to his simple life.

The man had a large gun in his right hand.

"Don't worry, I won't use this so long as you step away and hand that over. It’s valuable to us."

Benjamin had no intention of losing his life over these eerie things, made motions to step forward and hand it over, but Michelle's nimble hands snatched the object out of his grasp. She fumbled with it awhile, surprised by its weight, but she stabilized it and clutched it to her chest. Benjamin whispered furiously to her,

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I don't know, but these things are important in some way, and that man is up to no good."

Benjamin looked around at the man, who stared back without expression, then he turned to Michelle, keeping his hands out.

"It doesn't matter what he's up to, all we have to do is live. In case you haven't noticed, this man has a very big gun, and I'm not willing to bet my life on some weirdness..."

Michelle looked at Benjamin imploringly,

"It might be something that can save the planet..."

Benjamin made a nervous smile, sweat appearing on his brow,

"We can always save the planet later. Give me the bust, I give it to him. And we walk away..."

He looked at her, waiting for a reply. Michelle's face changed from scared and pleading to dawning realization- and then disgust.

"What?" Benjamin raised his eyebrows.

"You’re a coward. That's what you are, that's what you've always been."

"Michelle-"

"I mean... Oh my God I don't know why I didn't notice it till now. I thought you proposed on romantic terms. When you said you were afraid of dying before anything happened you really were afraid. As in scared cat afraid of not marrying before you died... Oh my God."

Benjamin looked like he had been given a punch, then he just stepped back and sat on the boat, breathing heavily. Michelle was not sorry.

"You must comply and give me that or I'll shoot." The man prompted. Michelle clutched the thing tighter to her chest,

"What do you want?" She asked with a surprising amount of control. Though she wasn't aware of it just yet, the statue was vibrating.

The man did notice, and he tensed up more than ever,

"Just give that over to me, miss, and calm down. You’re not helping matters by getting agitated."

She clutched it harder, then realized something,

"You’re not shooting. You could've easily killed me or Benjamin but you’re not shooting. You’re scared of hitting the statue, and something else."

The man wasn't impressed,

"You’re dealing with very valuable alien technology that belongs to my people."

"Alien technology, you say?" Benjamin croaked, still lost in shame.

The man looked flustered, for a bit, and then he stepped forward toward Michelle.

"Stay back!" She shouted. Now she felt the statuette vibrate, and a permeating cold pierced her fingers. She gasped and dropped it onto the sand. She noticed with surprise that the statue was now had a smooth white-blue surface, and with shock that her hands had taken up the glossy texture. She looked up at the man, who was aiming his gun. She knew what was happening, but her reflexes confused themselves and she ended up staying rooted to the spot, helpless as the man squeezed the trigger.

In the silence of the sea, she didn't expect such a loud report of the gun, nor did she actually expect to feel any pain. It came, nevertheless, and not anywhere above her waist, actually in her foot. She screamed in pain and fell backwards, looking at her pulverized and bloody sandal but not daring to touch it for fear of pain and discovering the amount of damage caused. She screamed again and then noticed, ahead of her, the still body of Benjamin. She blinked through furious tears, ignoring the man. She crawled over to Benjamin, to talk him through the pain, ask him where he had been shot. When she turned his body round she knew there wasn't any hope.

The bullet had gone right through his heart. In the time it had taken her to gather enough determination to crawl over to him, he had died.

Shock waves of grief and pain rattled her body. And she sat back and looked at the man who she had recently been disgusted with. Tears trickled down her eyes, and she looked at the killer who had done the deed. He didn't seem sure of himself for a while at the furious glance he had been given, but then a smile came across his lips, and he pointed the gun again,

"Too bad for you, you have nothing I'm scared of shooting anymore."

This time she could move. She turned and grabbed the statue. The gun fired again, a loud burst. The bullet hit her at the back of her neck. She felt the choking pass of the bullet as it severed her spinal cord and windpipe.

But her body did not collapse, nor did she feel any warm blood pumping out of her body. She was aware of a deadly cold. She had the statue in her hand, and with one finger she explored the bullet wound. It had completely frozen up, and she was faintly aware of the cold in her throat, and knew that the wound was still fatal, and somehow this wondrous statue that was in her grasps had saved her. She turned around and stood up, aware that her foot was frozen solid. She looked at the man, who was scared. He had both hands stretched out in a placating gesture.

"Miss, you have no idea what you're doing. Just hand over the statue."

She chuckled and looked at him,

"I have a feeling if I do I may die."

"But you'll kill many more if you continue as you are. Look at me, stay calm. Please. "

The man really was pleading. He also took three long steps backwards, keeping a distance from her. She looked at him, the cold got more intense, and she actually saw some droplets forming in the air and falling to the ground. She vaguely realized that she was starting to freeze the very moisture in the air, and it felt good. She spoke to the murderer,

"Explain everything."

The man opened his mouth, looking ridiculous at the amount of panic he was going through,

"I've been hired to take all these statues back to base."

"Go on..."

"They're statues of great power. Alien technology from another realm, as far as we can tell. We've lost many of our operatives, and fifteen incidents have happened world-wide to different people."

He seemed reluctant to go on. Michele, with water dripping downwards, took some steps forward. The nearby water lapping around the boats froze solid, and the man stumbled and fell on his back, putting out his hands,

"Please, I'll answer anything."

She smiled and asked,

"What sort of incidents?"

"Spontaneous combustion, Earthquakes that don't follow the fault lines, swarms of hornets... Lightning..."

"Lightning?"

"A lot of lightning."

"I see. But you still haven't answered, what are these statues..."

"We don't know yet."

"You’re lying."

"I swear, it’s true!"

Michelle was furious at the blatant lie. Something rippled out of her. A burst of frost. The man's outstretched hands became flecked with white and froze. The man roared in pain, bringing them to his chest. They immediately shattered into huge blocks of motionless skin, he screamed all the more. Michelle felt her anger rising and a whirlwind of wind rose. The man shouted to her,

"They're tools to save the planet! Some civilization sent them to us humans okay! They're concerned about our planet so they gave us tools to help in whatever problem may arise!"

Michelle looked at the man, and was vaguely surprise to see that he was way below on the ground. She was rising in the air. Then it dawned on her. Here was something she could do. She wasn't sure of the calculation exactly, and knew that many would die because of it.

"I see. And your company wanted these for money."

The man just looked up at her, with his two arms that ended at the wrist.

Michelle closed her eyes visualized Benjamin. Not Benjamin in her happy memories, but Benjamin dead, never to be seen again. The sorrow was still there, and she let it wrap her with its urgent, painful embrace. Emotion flooded out of her, and the statue glowed with that power. The top of its cracked open, and a gust of silver, utter cold burst into the sky. Michelle looked up, failing to cry since all her fluids were freezing. Whatever the statue had been compensating her with was being overpowered. She had had more love for Benjamin that she'd imagined. Those at least made her feel content.

The man watched with awe as the world froze. He himself was stuck to the frozen sand, looking up at the spiraling energy of cold. He didn't have any sorrowful feelings, just awe at the amazing power unleashed before him. He was frozen in place with that same look of awe.

The statuette of Frost did its work with an unexpected efficiency. In fact, it was too efficient. But it was a better fate than an ice age. It was cold on earth for some years, but not as cold as it would've been. This world was saved.