Tevun-Krus #50

Mr. Atom - @OutrageousOllo

"Mr. Atom" originally appeared in Tevun-Krus #35: Best of '16

Note from MadMikeMarsbergen, who selected the story: I picked this one for a few reasons. One—some of you might know @OutrageousOllo as the creator of the covers for the Post-Apocalyptic, SteamPunk, Superhuman, TKX, PiratePunk and AtomPunk issues of Tevun-Krus, but she also painted the beautiful cover you see for this very issue. Two—she's my girlfriend, and she's only written one story herself so far for Tevun-Krus, so I wanted to get it in this mega-whopper of an issue. Three—it's just a damn good story. It's dark, it's funny at times, but at the end of the day it paints a very real picture of what an ordinary family might experience if they were put into this situation. Not everything works out nicely, with a pretty little bow on top. It's real. That might be the main reason: it's real.

Mr. Atom

by OutrageousOllo

1.

"I'm bored," whined Tommy, jumping onto his father's lap while he was trying to read the paper.

Anthony stopped squinting at the newspaper and placed it down on the coffee table. He then helped his son up onto his knee. He'd placed the paper headline-up. It read in thick black ink: NUCLEAR WAR STILL A DISTANT POSSIBILITY.

"I'm bored," repeated Tommy, wiggling around like a worm. "I got nothing to do."

"What about those Atom Building-Blocks?" Anthony asked. "You seemed to be playing with them quite happily before."

"Eh," the seven-year-old grunted, looking over at the corner of their living room, where a pile of different-coloured, interlocking balls and rods lay discarded. "I've already made all the things in the book. It's no fun now."

"Hmm." Anthony thought for a moment. "What about that Nuclear Wind bike your mother and I bought for you last Christmas?"

The boy looked once at his toy. The atom-bike's single wheel was on its side, left carelessly where he had stopped playing with it.

Anthony made a mental note to pick it up and put it away later.

"It's cold," Tommy decided, turning his head away.

Anthony had an idea. "Follow me," he said, lifting the boy off his lap and placing him down on the carpet so he could stand.

"Okay, Daddy!"

They made their way through the house, Anthony leading and Tommy bouncing excitedly behind. In the kitchen, they passed Maria.

"Hi, Mommy!" Tommy shouted, tugging her dress.

"Hi, sweetie," she said absently, then went back to arguing with the fridge while she loaded dishes into the Atomic-Scrubber, an automated dishwashing machine. It was a chest you placed dirty dishes into, and when the lid was closed robotic hands would snap out of the walls and scrub them clean. Out of all the atom-powered appliances in her kitchen, it was by far her favourite. Of course, the fact that it didn't talk was a large deciding factor.

"Madame," the Quantum-Cooler 2000 insisted, "I still strongly suggest you remove the cheese you have placed in my upper-left compartment and immediately discard it."