Luck

PROMPT: An ancient god of war had always seen women as boring, weak and inferior. But in the modern times there are less and less people who remember his cult, until he's left with a single follower: a young and motivated pacifist woman.

“Sadiq!” Her own name, shouted across the office, jerked her head up and out of the piece she was working on. Her supervisor -- big, red-faced, always angry seeming -- stood in the doorway to the bullpen where she worked, glaring at her. As she looked up, he jerked his head toward himself: Come with me, the gesture said, you’re in trouble.

She reached out and set her hand on the tiny statuette on her desk: the tiny God her parents had worshipped, had carried across the desert, had tucked into their daughter’s dress, to watch over her, when she was taken to America with a plane-load of “orphans” after the war. She remembered the practice of the men in the village, where her father had been headman, who made this obeisance to the shrine in the center of the village, before a fight, or before practice.

They had regarded themselves as fierce warriors, worth ten of any neighboring village, and it might have been so, but it wasn’t a neighboring village who’d come for them, and they’d been outnumbered by a lot more than ten to one.

Heroics

PROMPT: Turns out that the purpose of life is war. Humans are self-multiplying shock troops, left to our own until our numbers get high enough to be useful in the ongoing galactic war. Today our previously thought to be useless DNA has been flipped to ON.

“When I say ‘flipped on,’ I don’t mean there was a physical switch thrown, all at once, I...”

“Do you mean that the mechanism went from a passive, stand-by state to an active, doing-things state?”

“I... yes...” The two men turned a corner, Doctor Hamblin taking the wide outside and Colonel Jacobi cutting the inside. There was another long corridor; Hamblin, new to the space, wondered if the maze-like atmosphere had any other purpose than to allow Jacobi to walk while he talked. He fully expected that after thirty more intense-dialogue-filled seconds they would arrive back at Jacobi’s office, where someone else would be waiting to talk to him.

“Is it a lot more complicated than that? Lots of detail and difficult-to-understand nuance?”