A science fiction short story by I.M. Gerhi
When you are a washed up old actor your only gig may be at the far side of the universe, re-enacting mundane moments from Earth’s history in an alien museum.
And when the script gets boring any excitement can save the day. But this time the excitement is a new player. A young female actress. Suddenly almost forgotten male ego’s resurface to solve the mystery of her.
At the moment The Priest, the Astronaut, and the Caveman is only available as part of the short story collection Night Light Tales.
Read a sample:
The Priest, the Astronaut, and the Caveman were playing cards when the construction crew moved in.
“Snap,” said the Priest.
The Caveman did not notice the three of clubs in his own hand. He watched the construction crew with interest.
“I say, are you going to play?” said the Priest.
The Caveman scratched his beard. He hated his beard. Not only did it have to be scraggly, it had to be dirty too. And no make-up got dirt quite as right as real dirt got it. And that meant it itched constantly. He stopped scratching. “I wonder what they are doing?”
The three of them sat on rocks outside the Astronaut’s home. His home was a shuttle, suspended just off the ground at an angle of fifteen degrees. The Astronaut had the luxury of a number of music tapes and a tiny shower, but the permanent angularity of his home meant that you forever slid off your seat.
They played outside, on a circle of rocks arranged around a remote explorer. The explorer never moved. It wasn’t real. Just being an empty shell, it was anchored to the ground, and because the top was flatter than most rocks, it served as a decent enough table.
The explorer could, of course, not have been real. Because a real one needed a remote control and all kinds of intricate circuitry. And despite the attempts at reality on the set, filling a dead prop with intricate wiring was just too much of a bother.
“I’ll tell what they are doing,” said the Astronaut, “they are messing with our private time. And they are mucking up your pasture.”
The Priest swiveled round on his rock and studied the construction crew. “It does seem like it. But it may be a good thing.”
…end of sample