Who GRILLED The Humans?
A surprise release of a brand new short story.
At the Zenith cocktail bar, one patron discovers that an old man’s party trick dates back to the beginning of the solar system. Sitting in the heat from the beer garden lamp, he watches as the stranger summons laser beams from the setting sun, lighting cigarettes with sunbeams and telling stories of his past life as an ant who waged war on his own colony.
Weird, right?
I think you’ll like it.
[if you keep scrolling, you can read the first part, right here]
If you were in my Creative Writing class at Edge Hill University in October 2015, you may have been sober enough one morning to catch a glimpse of the first primordial beginnings to this story.
If not, this will be your first time seeing it.
And, even if you were there, a lot has changed. Firstly, I’ve added a subtle, dark humour to the story which wasn’t there ten years ago. The reincarnation side of things has been fleshed out, and the hints of a wider universe where this takes place are a bit more obvious. There is room here for this story to become a big piece in a larger puzzle.
Two months ago I showed you a bit of this story and asked you to name it. I settled on Who Grilled The Humans? in the end for two main reasons:
it’s funny
the other reason is below, let’s read some of the story first
Who Grilled The Humans?
Part 1
It was nearly midnight at Zenith, Last orders. I waved over the bar. A band of red light jumped into my palm. Gestures like this used to piss them off. Barman sensed I still had money in there and floated over. One more Aphrodisiac I said. The cocktail that is. I drank ‘em as quick as they made ‘em back then.
Mars wasn’t green yet, but it was early days. Looked to my glass and tasted the last of the cinnamon and butterscotch on my tongue. Couldn’t appreciate another. Was at the edge of the abyss. Ran the glass over the holoplate and the blue green light came through. Paid my tab and got up. Turned away from the TV screen and the mission reports. Twenty-five humans living on Mars now, and hardly anyone sat down to think about just how incredible that was. Too much going on down here on Earth to think about it.
Some kids were crowding this old guy in the corner, laughing. I had nothing better to do, so I joined them, to see what the fuss was about. He said something about small mindedness, the kids poked at him some more. Guy tweaked his lapels and broke free. Moved to the empty dance floor. I asked him why the kids were bothering him.
“No time for magic,” he said. I asked him what sort of magic. He told me it was too late in the day. Asked me to come back the next day, few hours before sundown, so I did. Looking back, I think he was testing my faith.
Sure, I’d already had a few before he showed the next night, but I know what I saw. He ordered my drink for me, a Godfather.
“Lasts longer,” he said. “Lots to talk about.”
He walked me to the beer garden, pointed at the sun. Held a cigar out in one hand. Asked me to give him eight minutes, I laughed at the specificity, sat down anyway. People were staring from inside, pointing, but they got bored soon enough. We became shadowy figures under the pink sky.
He asked if I needed a light too, waved the cigar in the air. I said no, asked what the magic was. He just smiled like an idiot, like he was in on a joke I hadn’t figured out yet. Asked me to wait. He closed his eyes and looked as if he was meditating. He scrunched up his face once, twice, and opened his eyes again. I asked him what we were doing out here.
“Waiting,” he said. “Most people turn away from the beautiful things because they won’t wait for them to reveal themselves.”
He invited me to look at the setting sun, I declined, and he laughed, as if he forgot it burns your eyes. He looked up intently, smiled to himself.
Said her name was Sol, the sun that is. Said he could speak to her. Had to be outside he said. Had to be a line of sight between em. He was building excuses case the trick failed. I’ve been scammed before. I checked my watch. It had been seven painful, drawn-out minutes. Nothing’s happened I said. He gave me that stupid smile again. Then a laser beam broke the air between the sun and the cigar. It was only for a second, like lightning, a line drawn between the sun and the cigar, then it was gone. I almost didn’t think it was real, but the tip of the cigar was red hot. He flicked it into his mouth and inhaled sharply.
He told me people said matches are better than lighters, but he thought sunlight was better than both. He laughed and his wrinkles deepened. He said he didn’t have to think about angles or that sort of thing, it just happens. Takes eight minutes to get here but it happens. Like walking, we never think about the angle of our feet. It’s just instinct. He had an instinct to burn.
I started thinking about the power. He could do anything. He could power cities, kill people. All that just to light a cheap cigar and show off to some drunk stranger. I asked him why he didn’t use this power for anything else, if it was real. He said he’d be shot. Easy answer. I asked him if it took eight minutes for light to get here why didn’t it take another eight for his thoughts to get there. He laughed. I thought it was a big question, but he just laughed. Blew smoke in my face. Said something about the speed of thought, their minds locked. Said the sun knew at the same time because there’s no time between them. They’re parts to the same organ. He rambled a lot.
Now I don’t know much about science, but it sounds like bullshit to me I said. Asked him if he had a flying machine or something with a laser rifle, positioned high up, in the sun’s sunset beams, so I couldn’t see it without eclipse glasses or something. He practically choked when he laughed at me, said that was too clever, too complicated. Wouldn’t work.
“The truth is always elegant,” he said. I stared at the sun, Sol, and wondered. He asked if I wanted a cigar now, if I’d changed my mind. I said yeah.
“Thought you’d change your mind,” he said. A flick of his finger produced another cigar from the packet, holding it aloft. Another sunbeam lasered its way through space, between satellites, through the atmosphere, between planes and birds and finally ended its cosmic journey at the tip of that cigar. There was no wait this time, it didn’t make sense.
…
[read more by getting the whole story, link below]
Placement in the series
With its first draft written half a decade before the first installment of the Who Built The Humans? series* hit the shelves, you might think it strange that this story has retroactively found its way into the series.
It was not in WHO BUILT THE HUMANS? because I hadn’t rewritten it yet, and it might not be in WHO KILLED THE HUMANS? either if it doesn’t fit. Since I took WKTH down and booked time off work to give it a proper polish, I’ve realised that I want the book to feel sharper, and that WGTH stands out as a story that really ought to have its own life.
This short story about stars and reincarnation has its own vibe which sits comfortably between and before those collections. It has some subtle overlap with one or two other stories, but it exists on its own, sort of like those ‘Monster of the Week’ X-Files episodes. It’s a good little story, and I felt it deserved its own life. That’s why it’s got its new title.
*in order to reach new people, the WBTH series has since been retitled “sci-fi collections” on Amazon and Draft2Digital, which is unimaginative, but it works. It says very clearly what the books are. Of course, you know they are a bit more than that, but people browsing amazon might find this pitch a little easier. If it doesn’t help sales, I might try out ‘Novelthologies’ because that’s what they are.
How to read it
Who Grilled The Humans? launched today, and costs just $1 to read. You can get it as an eBook from Amazon and many other retailers. There will be a link below, soon after this next bit.
Q: Why isn’t it free?
A: Whilst I do enjoy using Substack as my post-physical campfire, around which I can tell you all stories, I make a decision with each individual story, standup show, article, as to whether or not they should be free. I make these decisions based on how I feel about the story.
Making a story free online makes it easier for scam websites to take it and resell it at a profit, which has happened with at least one of my stories in the past, which was incredibly demotivating. Pricing it at $1 means that even if those scammers to try to resell it, I’ll still be the cheapest retailer.
Additionally, Who Grilled The Humans? has been named so that it is a part of the wider Who Built The Humans? series, and my intention is for it to serve as an introduction to the series. So, whilst several authors speak about the benefits of having a permanently free intro to their book series, I think for now sticking with my pricing structure of $1 - $2 for shorter stories, works for this one, because these stories have value, and pricing the individual stories in the series at $0 devalues all the stories that follow. This story is not worth $0, it is worth at least $1.
It might be worth more, but I am pricing it at $1.
Essentially, I am proud of this story, and for less than 10% of the price of a fancy cocktail you might buy at Zenith bar*, I think it is 10 times more fun, which makes it 100x more valuable, I think. Is that right?
*Pricing of cocktail based on real-world cocktail I bought before my sci-fi comedy gig in July 2023
Note: There is also a free story coming tomorrow, a reprint from WBTH, so this does not signify the end of free stuff. It’s simply that I enjoy writing, and it is becoming my job, and to continue doing it I’ve realised it might be good to earn money from it, so I can get my own house and put food in it and live and continue to write, and maybe one day expand the writing business so that I can open that bookstore and cat charity I keep thinking about.
So, whilst there’s no crowd-funding thing for that big project, all my book sales, in my mind, are building towards that goal.
Get it today
The button and link below will not only show you where you can buy it, but goes to my main linktree, where you can see my youtube and all the other stuff I do.
https://linktr.ee/Phillipcarter
Thank you
If you do decide to invest $1 in a human-written story about psychically controlled sunbeams today, thank you. You’re not just supporting my work and the continuation of my writing, but you’re showing the world that human stories are still important.
And maybe, someday soon, I can do that whole reading stories around a campfire thing, as an event. I wonder how I might light that fire.
Loved this!