We’re All Impossible Here

By Caitlin Eha

The Queen of Hearts stepped over Alice’s corpse, her long, crimson cape trailing across the body. Any true Superior wore a cape, of course. The Queen had written that law herself—partly to prove that, despite Alice’s claims, the girl’s DNA held no potential for Superior gifting.

Beneath the Queen’s boots, the engines of Hearts—the finest deep-space vessel among the many she ruled—vibrated with a reassuring thrum. She’d been given the throne when her superpowers first manifested. A role befitting a rare personage like herself.

But Alice? The girl had fallen through a wormhole aboard White Rabbit, a tiny, smoldering embarrassment of a spaceship that Hearts had nearly smashed to bits. The Queen had altered course to prevent the collision and welcomed Alice aboard, but… well, even Superiors made mistakes.

Stooping, the Queen plucked up the empty bottle lying beside Alice, then smirked at her reflection in the glass. Poisoning a girl who imbibed anything labeled “Drink Me” had been  absurdly easy.

She tossed the bottle over her shoulder, enjoying the small crash as it shattered against the unyielding metal floor, the sound echoing in the vast, empty throne room. An insignificant noise, like the insignificant demise its contents had caused.

Initially, the Queen had thought Alice might prove a worthy subject. If nothing else, the girl’s queer perspective could be amusing.

Until that perspective became downright annoying.

When Alice had first claimed that anyone was capable of manifesting Superior gifts, the Queen had laughed. “What nonsense!”

But Alice had insisted that new research proved all humans were so-called Superiors, whether they manifested the potential encoded in their DNA or not.

“We are all impossible,” Alice had said. “The only variables are whether we find a way to unlock that capability or not, and whether we use it to bless or to harm.” Then she’d dared to project holograms of said research from her home realm in front of the Queen’s entire court.

As if that counted as convincing evidence.

Sighing, the Queen rose into the air, ascending dozens of feet above the floor. She tilted her head back to gaze through the throne room’s clear ceiling, drifting closer to the darkness of space. Darkness far deeper than any night she’d known on any planet. A void broken only by pinpricks of fathomlessly-distant stars.

In that void, a new planet awaited her reign. Her subjects aboard Hearts and its companions must believe their Queen irreplaceable and indomitable, lest their subservience slip during the journey. Alice’s lies about Superiors threatened that belief, as did her silly assertions that the Queen’s gifts gave her no right to knock a few heads.

Despite the fact that the Queen could fly.

Despite the fact that she could blast lasers from the palms of her hands.

Foolish child.

A groan from far below drew the Queen’s gaze downward. Alice’s corpse… moved. It sat up and rubbed its eyes.

Impossible.

The Queen descended so quickly, the metal floor dented from the impact. “What is the meaning of this?” she shrieked as Alice stood, wobbly but alive.

Alice glanced around, her gaze pausing on the broken glass before her blue eyes rested on the Queen. “Poison, was it?”

“You should be dead!”

“Yes, I should be.”

“Why aren’t you, then?” The Queen’s hands tingled, the harbinger of her lasers.

“I don’t know.” Then, of all the ludicrous things, Alice smiled. “But isn’t being alive always a rather impossible, beautiful thing?”

Shrieking again, the Queen raised one hand. A wide beam of red light burst from her palm, aimed straight at Alice’s heart.

The laser struck.

Alice began to glow.

The Queen’s mouth dropped open, although she maintained her laser’s onslaught.

Unharmed, Alice studied herself, eyes widening, her glow increasing the longer the Queen attacked.

The Queen finally lowered her hand. “No,” she whispered, shaking in rage. “You can’t have become…” The unspoken word echoed in the air between them.

Superior.

Alice smiled again. “I always was. It’s curious… it seems that dying helped me finally become who I was created to be.”

The Queen sniffed. “You don’t even have a cape.”

Alice rose into the air. Apparently, the wretch could fly, too. “Then may I borrow yours?”

The Queen ground her teeth. “Never!”

Alice shrugged. “Regardless, fear does not belong in Hearts, so I think you have ruled here long enough.”

Still airborne, Alice darted forward, but the Queen took flight before Alice caught hold of her. Yelling her fury to the void of space, the Queen soared, firing lasers back at the pursuing Alice.

Alice merely sighed as her body glowed brighter each time a laser struck. “That won’t do you any good, you know!” Her blonde hair took on the hue of molten gold, her eyes shining like blue stars.

“Off with you!” the Queen screamed in reply. Consumed with anger—and growing terror—she didn’t notice Alice cornering her until the Queen’s back bumped against the clear ceiling.

Panting, the Queen glanced over her shoulder. The cold emptiness of space met her panicked gaze. Nowhere to run.

Floating just below the Queen, Alice managed a curtsey in midair. “I’m truly sorry.”

Light exploded from Alice, striking the Queen with the force of a missile—or so it felt. The Queen cried out, barely clinging to consciousness as she fell, unable to control her body enough to fly.

Dimly, the Queen felt Alice catch her by the arm, slowing her descent until they both landed safely.

The Queen collapsed, breathing hard. “I… I am… a Superior…”

Alice knelt, undid the clasps of the Queen’s cape, and swept the fabric away. The Queen cringed, feeling strangely exposed without the ornamental cloth, though she still wore her shining red battlesuit.

“Yes, we both are.” Alice knotted the cape into place around her neck. “But the greatness you crave doesn’t come with our gifts. It comes from what we do with them.”

The Queen closed her eyes.

Alice had won.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Caitlin Eha writes novels, short stories, and screenplays that blend her Christian faith with her love of fantasy tales. Her nonfiction articles have been published in online magazines and anthology books. A lifelong bookworm, Caitlin was born where the wild things are, then grew up in Narnia and Middle-earth. She dedicates this story to her grandma, who knew from personal experience that God does the impossible.

---

More Stories | Author Website | Instagram