STONE MATTERS is an online, round-robin writing experience intended to stimulate creativity. The students of The Idea Factory are encouraged to join the fun and participate in the growing story. So, sit back and meet three new writers who will take you aboard a living asteroid where stone matters.

* * * * *

Mitchel Whitington has just completed his thriller, GROOM LAKE, a novel of government intrigue. Mitchel is currently looking for an agent while he finishes his second book, CIBOLA. Check out Mitchel's web page at: www.whitington.com.

"The answer is quite simple, gentlemen. Major Thorenson is not who we believed him to be." Captain Walker and Oritz both looked quizzically from the major to me. I couldn't blame them. But my story was only going to get stranger from here. "He's brought the four of us to his ship under a ruse, and for the life of me, I have no idea why."

Crayla softly nodded her agreement.

The Captain crossed his arms, and glared accusingly at Thorenson. "Is this true, Major?"

I decided not to let him have the satisfaction of answering. "Oh, it's true all right. Crayla and I have been in the lower holds of the ship, and apparently we're not his only captives." Thorenson just stood there smugly, holding the weapon on us.

"Captives?" Oritz stepped forward, and I noticed that a small twitch had developed in his left eye. "What the hell do you mean by that? No one holds Carlos Oritz prisoner!" He took another menacing step.

The captain put out his hand to hold Carlos back. "Take it easy, Oritz, I'm sure that there's an explanation for all this. I mean, I've known the major for years. Right?" He looked hopefully to Thorenson.

The major finally spoke. "Just shut up, Walker." He pointed the weapon directly at Carlos' head. "And as for you, I'd suggest that you begin to show me a little more respect." I could see the flare of Oritz' nostrils and I knew that this wasn't sitting well with him. Thorenson obviously did, too, because he raised his eyebrows as if to challenge the man further.

That was all the diversion I needed. I leapt toward the bastard to try and take him down. My body hit squarely against him, and we both began to fall.

"You've got him, Jenovito!" I heard Crayla cry. Her words spurred me on, and even as I drove Thorenson to the ground I was pulling back my fist. I hit him hard across the face; and then again, until my blows began to come faster and faster as I pummeled him.

"Hey, Jenovito!" I felt Carlos' hand on my shoulder, shaking me to interrupt my assault. "I think you've got him." Thorenson's head lulled to the side; the man was unconscious.

Carlos offered me his hand. As he helped me to my feet, he clapped me on the back. "Way to go, man. Good job. I just wish that I could have gotten a few of those in on him."

"That's right," Crayla added. "At least we're safe for the moment. But where do we go from here?"

It was a very good question, and I only wished that I had some answers for her. I couldn't begin to guess Thorenson's motives, and I certainly had no idea which corner of his massive ship we should start searching first. Doing nothing would be just as bad a call, though. "I guess we should take the elevator and start exploring level by level." I shrugged. If they were looking to me for inspiring leadership, then we were in some real trouble.

Carlos nudged the Major's head with the tip of his boot. "But what about him? Shouldn't we tie him up or something?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you can bet we're going to do that. We may not know anything about this ship, or even how we're getting back home, but with Thorenson secured we'll at least have one problem out of our way.

"I wouldn't jump to any conclusions." It was the captain's voice. I turned and he was standing behind Carlos, pointing the weapon at us. He must have picked it up as the major and I were struggling. This was just great. I was just going to have to stop trusting people until I got back home to Houston.

* * * * *

Ron Jones has completed a fantasy novel, THE DRAGON SLAVERS, which was picked up by Debbie Fine of Southeast Literary Agency.

"Now what?" I asked, fixing my gaze on Captain Walker. "Are you going to use that weapon or stand there fanning the air?"

"I don't care if the Major was out of line, Zeromski. Striking your commanding officer could bring a death sentence."

Crayla stepped between us. "How many folks will die back on earth if we don't redirect this asteroid? Just tell us what you want done."

Walker paused but stuffed the weapon into his belt. "Okay, but no one ties up Major Thorenson. Zeromski, you and Crayla get back down to the control room and see what you can do. Carlos and I will try to find the engine room on this rock. If it turned and accelerated, it must have some kind of drive."

I grabbed Crayla's arm and tugged her into the elevator before Walker could reconsider.

"Do you think those two stone creatures will let us inside?" Crayla asked, once the door had closed. "Maybe the captain only wants us out of his hair."

"I wouldn't put it past him to use us as a diversion, but even Walker wouldn't take that kind of chance with the world's destruction hanging in the balance." I winced, touching the throbbing lump the strange stone being had left above my left ear. "Thorenson told me we could fix what is wrong, but how?"

The door of the elevator irised back into the wall, revealing an empty control room.

"That's strange." Crayla peered around the corner before she stepped out behind me. "Those two creatures are gone. Maybe it was Major Thorenson they were trying to keep out, not us."

"Thorenson was as surprised to see those stone creatures as we were, maybe more. Since they didn't come with us, they must have been here all the time. What if this ship is more than a vessel, but a colony of individual creatures--one giant, collective, telepathic consciousness?"

"We've only seen two," Crayla complained.

"I didn't tell you this before, but I saw several similar shapes floating around in space outside the broken hull." My voice faded as I stared in awe at the strange glowing array of glass equipment before us. The room pulsed with layers of multicolored glowing gasses that coursed through the maze of tubes, glass straws, and bottles. It reminded me of a mad glass-blower's nightmare. There were no handles or buttons, no visible means of controlling the craft. "I'm not so certain they aren't here right now."

"You must be joking, Jeano. These creature may be strange, but you can't believe they're invisible, do you?"

I pointed to a raised platform in the middle of the maze of tubing which hadn't been there before. "The way they shifted shapes, they could be disguised as almost anything, a section of bulkhead, a panel of equipment, even that platform." Nevertheless, it seemed like an invitation, so I stepped cautiously onto the stand. I almost panicked when the tubing twisted and enveloped my face. The gasses swirled around my eyes, but I stood my ground.

"Can you breath?" Crayla shouted.

"Fine." I stared in amazement at the scene before me. The gasses had formed a picture, showing me the space around the asteroid littered with dead stone creatures. I suddenly realized that memories of my childhood were racing through my thoughts. The ship was reviewing, and maybe absorbing, data from my past, including the meteor impact that had knocked the earth off its axis and had made Houston a polar region.

* * * * *

Bob is currently finishing his stand-alone novel, CELTIC FANTASY, a book that weaves Irish folklore and American fantasy together. He also writes short stories and has the basic outline written for an Indiana Jones adventure. You can contact Bob at: lorewriter@globalbiz.net

I continued to watch the fragments of my life swirl in front of me. Why fragments; just bits and pieces? Why couldn't I get a whole image; a full picture? Something was missing, a part. The tri-peg horse came to mind, and the four crab-like creatures; even the two blocks which I now stood on.

Suddenly I was seeing binary. One center head that seemed to be in charge of the two outer heads, four crabs that worked in unison. Each was a part, but worked for the good of all. The two block creatures were somehow giving me a major revelation.

I reached down and Crayla took my hand. I pulled her onto the block and she was immediately consumed within my seeing.

We were one; she and I, together. The creatures on this asteroid ship knew that we shared a bond.

I started to snicker, remembering a sheet of paper that I had seen on some programmer's terminal. Holistic Programming Services - We don't fix bugs - We heal the whole program."

I now knew and understood the term, holistic, in that context. We weren't individuals, but a part of the whole. Major Thorenson was an individualist; a separatist; a very lonely person.

I still needed to figure out where the general stood. I could only hope that he probably had been duped by the major. At least, he hadn't killed us; a good sign.

But right now, Crayla and I were being included on the holistic healing of the asteroid. We were being shown that not any one person would be able to divert the asteroid; it would take the whole of us. The images before us swirled and shifted. We were in a virtual world that was real--past, present and future. We were in a time flux.

The creatures that floated outside like miniature moons needed to be retrieved. We saw that their being a silicone based life form allowed them to exist without air. Stone doesn't breathe so they were still alive.

Crayla motioned to me and we watched images of us and Ortiz bringing these hapless creatures back into the confines of the asteroid, a future event. Then, Ortiz was dead and the remainder of us stood over him, a past event.

Fingers tightened on my arm. Crayla realized, just as I had, that we had discovered the ability to time travel.

Visions of many of these block creatures, humans, crabs moved about the area. They had direction and purpose. The asteroid was being redirected by the host of them.

Hlug and Bracl reformed into what they had first appeared--individual blocks.

"What are we going to do?" Crayla asked, grabbing my arm.

"We will work together," Hlug replied inside my head.

My hand shot up to my temple to somehow ease the pain of his telepathy.

"I apologize for the pain, but it is the only way we can communicate," Hlug said.

Crayla leaned against me for support and I could feel my knees wanting to buckle. I eased both of us to the floor. This telepathy stuff was going to be a major drain.

"If you follow," Bracl said, "we will show you how to get our friends inside."

I watched the silicone thing before me become pliant and grow extensions that would serve to let him walk.

"Well," Crayla said, getting up. "Like Caesar said, 'The die is cast', so I guess we'll go get Ortiz and bring in the gang."

I wanted to share in her ability to accept so quickly, but I was a hardened skeptic. Why were they our friends? Because of a common enemy? "Thorenson?"

I got up. I may be a skeptic, but right now, these strange creatures seemed to have all the answers.

And they didn't want to die, either.