by J.R. Blackwell | Sep 5, 2006 | Story |
Author : J.R. Blackwell, Staff Writer
Minister Christof glowed with pure thoughts. His halo seemed even brighter inside the restaurant than out in the noon sun. The more Godly the thought, the brighter the flame burned. Levi admired his father’s ability to keep his thoughts pure, he was glad there was no halo around his head.
The waitress tugged down on her skirt as she led them to a booth by large bay windows. Levi picked up a menu, already looking forward to his usual birthday treat. Christof plucked the menu out of Levi’s hands and put it aside.
“Son, before we order, I’d like to talk to you. You’re sixteen today, and I think you’re ready to have this conversation with me. Recently I’ve noticed that you have been paying a lot of attention to the networks.â€
“Sorry Dad.†Levi clasped his hands together in front of him, twisting his fingers.
“Don’t hang your head like that. There is no reason to be ashamed. Young people are naturally attracted to shared experience. It’s perfectly normal for you to be interested in how other people think and feel.â€
“It’s okay?†Levi looked up at his father. Even without the neural-implant-halo lighting his head, Minister Christof would be a striking figure. The black minister’s shirt and crisp white collar did nothing to conceal his former-linebacker physique.
Christof’s halo glowed with yellow flame. “I want you to feel comfortable talking to me about your thoughts on the network and memory sharing. It’s important that you can tell me what your peers are doing and what you are doing yourself.â€
“I guess I have been thinking about it. Other people at school are exchanging memories, mostly of concerts and stuff.†Levi shrugged and looked out the window at the lake. Geese were setting onto the placid water. Levi wondered how many of them were real and how many were robots. “Sometimes I think it doesn’t seem that bad to share.â€
“You’re right son, it doesn’t seem bad at first but it becomes bad very quickly. It’s a slippery slope from sharing a concert to sharing a spiritual experience with God. When you share your memory, you are sharing your emotional reaction, your body, your soul. It’s an intimate experience. What you remember is God’s plan for you, what happens to you is for you alone, and later, for a life-mate.â€
“Did you ever share with other people, I mean, other than mom?â€
“When I was young, I shared a lot and tampered with my own memories.†A red crackle pulsed around his halo, chased by a white flame. “I even ditched the memory of my first relationship. Now I regret doing that because when I was born again and reloaded from save I found that I repeated a lot of mistakes I made in that first relationship. I could have avoided those mistakes if I had my memories to warn me and keep me safe.†Minister Christof leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “God gives us experiences that become part of our soul. When we share memories with other people, we are sharing our soul with them. I share with your mother, but I waited until we were married. We were tempted to share when we were dating, but we knew it was wrong. Now, I’m glad we waited.â€
“I haven’t ever shared with anyone dad. I promise.â€
“I know you haven’t son, and I think that takes a lot of restraint and courage. I know that your peers must be sharing memories though public ports or even through ports their parents have given them.â€
Levi blushed. “Don’t worry Dad; I always stay away from the public ports.â€
Minster Christof leaned back in his seat, crossing him arms. “I bet a lot of kids have their own ports, don’t they.â€
“Most of the kids at school have their own ports.â€
“I realize you may feel jealous that they get to store and retrieve memory whenever they want, but your mother and I felt that giving you a port would be too much of a temptation at an early age, do you understand?â€
“Yeah, I guess. It’s just that it would be nice to review a lecture or a concert or something.â€
“You must trust that your mother and I are trying to follow God’s will for you.â€
“I know.â€
“And that’s why we’ve both decided to give you a port of your own.â€
Levi’s eyes widened. “Really?â€
Minister Christof pulled his briefcase onto the table and opened it, pulling out a small velvet box. “You are sixteen years old today and I trust you to make the right choices. This is a time when we are making a commitment to your future family, to only share with them and to keep your memory pure.†Inside the box was a sliver ring, glittering with impatient nano connections. “This is your memory ring. As soon as you put it on it will record all of your memories. When you get married, you can give it to your life mate and it will share your memories from this moment onward. Go ahead, put it on.â€
Levi took the box his hand’s shaking. He took out the ring, hoping he wouldn’t drop it and slid it on his finger. He felt a tingle in his spine. “Wow.â€
“Take my hands, lets have the first memory your life mate has for you as a prayer.†Levi obediently took his fathers hands and closed his eyes, following to his father’s low voice. “As you wear this ring, please remember what God intends for the experiences he blesses you with, and to give you the courage and restraint to keep these memories sacred, and to only share them with your future life mate.â€
“Amen.â€
Levi opened his eyes. “Amen.â€
___________________
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by J.R. Blackwell | Aug 15, 2006 | Story
Author : J.R.Blackwell, Staff Writer
The teacher, the senticyborg and the children sat in a circle on logs in the woods. In the beginning of the semester they had constructed their outdoor classroom as an assignment in team building. The canopy above them made patterns of yellow light on the soft grass.
“Who can tell me who our world is named after?” Asked the teacher. A few of the older children rolled their eyes – this was old material for them.
Reading their social signals, the senticyborg prompted one of the older children. “If you know the story, please share with those who do not. I will assist you in the telling.”
This excited the children, who enjoyed the interactive storytelling feature of the senticyborg, which would change shape depending on the stories that the children told. Usually, the senticyborg was silver and blue, but it could change to many shapes and colors to help teach the children.
“Well,” said the child “Our planet is named after a mythological 20th century Princess. This Princess was very strong, and no matter what she faced, she could overcome all problems.” The senticyborg changed shape into the figure of a striking woman with long dark hair. “This Princess was one of the greatest fighters the world has ever known, a master of medicine, and a great leader.”
The primary teacher folded her hands on her lap. “Can someone else tell us about what the circle that the Princess carried represents?”
A younger child stood up, holding a green leaf. “Um, it represents the connection of things with each other. People can throw things out and it will come back to them.”
“That’s right.” Said the primary teacher. “Her circle is a weapon, a method of protection but it is also a symbol of community. On the celebration of our liberation from the Corporate Beltway, we make circles of food or jewelry and give them to each other to represent our common link, and our dedication to protecting our community.” The senticyborg was showing her metal circle to the children.
“Can we learn to fight like the Princess?” asked one of the girls.
“The Princess believed in protecting people, so maybe instead of learning to fight, we should learn to protect each other, what do you think?”
“Can the Princess teach us?” asked a child
“Yeah!” cried out one of the children. “Can the Princess do it?”
“Maybe if she catches the right program file, we can do a little bit of training.”
The senticyborg spoke. “I have found the correct program for this training.”
The teacher clapped her hands. “Wonderful.”
“After this, can we hear the story of how we got the second sun?” said an older child.
The teacher grinned. “Of course children, we will learn about our world, our suns, and all of man’s two hundred colonies.”
by J.R. Blackwell | Aug 8, 2006 | Story
Author : JR Blackwell, Staff Writer
“I don’t want to go to the United States.” Wilkin slumped, his head falling into the cradle of his arms. His lawyer, the Silver Cyborg, as he liked to be called, put a heavy sympathetic hand on Wilkin’s shoulder.
“Sorry Willi, I wish I could appeal this again, but it looks like they’ve made a final decision on your case.”
Willi looked up from the metal table. The skin around his eyes was red and puffy. “Tell them that if I have to leave the European Union, I will kill myself.”
The Silver Cyborg shook his gleaming head. “Willi, don’t be rash.”
“Have you heard what they do over there? They eat animals and kill each other for diesel fuels.”
“They have a different way of living. I’m sure you’ll become accustomed to it.”
“This is cruel and unusual punishment! They can’t do this to me!”
“Willi, calm down.”
“God, you were my lawyer. You were supposed to keep this from happening!”
“Wilkin, and I don’t want to be too forward here, but I’ve been curious. What did you think would happen when you started leaving those abusive messages all over the network? What did you think would happen when you were sending those e-mails to those girls or pretending to be a girl yourself and taking people’s money? What, honestly, did you think would happen?”
“I don’t know. I thought, maybe, I would get fine or something, a net ticket or whatever.”
“Willi, they’ve been deporting Trolls to the U.S. for fifteen years now. I don’t know why you thought you could get away with this.”
When Willi heard the word Troll, it made him slump in his chair. “It just got ahead of me. I would see something and I just couldn’t help but comment, track the poster down and really get to them, I don’t know. I couldn’t help myself.” Willi’s face brightened. “Say, do you think you could push this off as a psychological problem? We could tell people I’ve got an addictive personality. You think you could appeal on that?”
The Silver Cyborg picked up his data pad, which was modified to have a silver surface that matched the Cyborg’s own skin. “Honestly? No.”
Willi pounded the table. “What if I have a nervous breakdown?”
The Silver Cyborg knocked on the wall, signaling the guard to unlock the hidden door. “Have a nice flight to the U.S. Willi. I hope people enjoy your flames over there.”
by J.R. Blackwell | Jul 30, 2006 | Story |
Brody looked at the puppies frolicking in the flower garden and beyond them, to where a professional cuteologist, complete with a lab coat and kitten ears, was giving children rides on a friendly lion. Brody shuddered, shoving his hands into his trench coat. “I hate this place.â€
Chinjin punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Christ Brody, how can you be cranky in Cute Land?â€
“It’s just that everything here has a face. It’s creepy.â€
Chinjin rolled her eyes. “Everything does not have a face.â€
“No, seriously, everything has a face. Look, the clouds have faces, the rides have faces, even the food has faces. That kid over there is licking an ice-cream cone with a face!â€
“Aw, I think it’s cute. Look at the way the ice cream’s nose scrunches up when the kid licks it.â€
“Baby, he is killing that face, one lick at a time, it’s creepy.†Brody waved his arms around “This place is cute porn. Any minute now I will barf glitter.â€
Chinjin turned away from him. Brody saw her wipe at her face with her hands.
Brody sighed. “I’m sorry babe. I didn’t mean -†He reached for her, but she pulled away.
“I’m fine.†She said, looking down at the rubber rainbow floor.
“Baby, you’re not fine, and I’m sorry.†He reached for her again, and she hugged him, pressing her cheek on his sloping shoulder. “I know you arranged this vacation for me and I really appreciate it. Cute Land just isn’t my thing. I’m sure we can find someplace in the Pleasure Dome to have a good time.†He looked up at a candy signpost, which was whistling merrily. “Look, that way is Gremlin Town; I bet we could have a lot of fun in Gremlin Town.â€
Chinjin put her arms around his neck.“Yeah?â€
“Yeah, and then later, maybe we can go down to the Love Lagoon.†He tickled her waist and she giggled. “All the animatronics there are fully functional, and no kids allowed.â€
Chinjin grinned. “Now that does sound like fun.â€
He squeezed her waist. “Off to Gremlin Town we go.â€
The signpost winked.
by J.R. Blackwell | Jul 26, 2006 | Story |
Inigo struggled against the duct tape, trying to work his hands loose. John Kennedy backhanded him.
“I told you to knock that off. You sit still till we’re done.â€
Inigo felt fluid running down from his nose over the silver tape on his lips. Blood ran into his throat and Inigo tried not to choke. He concentrated on breathing though his one good nostril, determined not to let himself pass out
Three men wearing electronic hologram masks were loading trash bags into Inigos house. The masks were all of former presidents. Washington and the post sex-change Clinton were doing the heavy lifting while Kennedy stood next to Inigo, holding a laser pistol in his right hand. Inigo watched them carry a broken couch up the stairs in horror. A full couch would cost thousands of dollars to dispose of, even on the black market.
Kennedy ruffled Inigos long hair. “You’ve got lots of space, don’t you? You’re not gonna mind our little gifts.†Inigo felt like he was on fire, like his eyes were about to burst from his head. The waste, the broken electronics, the clothes, all this stuff would cost a fortune to get rid of. Trash didn’t go cheap, and each year the government charged more to take it away. He had inherited this house from his father, and had worked hard to keep it free from garbage. His garden and compost pile allowed him to keep waste to a minimum. These men were destroying years of hard conservation. Inigo silently vowed to rip them to shreds.
“Look at how mad he looks? Shit boys, he’s turned red he’s so mad.†Kennedy laughed. Washington and Clinton ignored them and kept moving bags into the house.
If he hadn’t been sleeping when they entered the house, this would have never happened. Ingio cursed his deep sleep. As a child, he had slept though earthquakes and hurricanes and now he had slept though a Clutter Mob breaking into his house. If he had been awake, he could have taken all three of them, even if Kennedy did have a laser pistol.
Ingio tried to calm his heartbeat. He didn’t want Eugene coming home, not now. The heart sensor had seemed so romantic when they bought it in Second Paris but now it felt like a liability. If Eugene felt Inigos racing heartbeat through the sensor, he might come home to see what was wrong. Eugene, the chemistry student, would faint in front of men like this. If Eugene knew that Inigo was in danger, his heart would be beating wildly. Even a mouse made Eugene startle. Inigo closed his dark eyes and concentrated. Distantly, he could feel Eugene’s calm, steady heartbeat. Eugene was safe, probably studying in a quiet library somewhere. Inigo said a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity was watching over them.
“Hey, you asleep?†Kennedy smacked Inigos face.
A crack broke in the air and all the presidents jumped. There was a loud whirring sound and then all the lights went out. Inigo recognized the strange sound. It was an EMP pulse. Eugene had made a handheld EMP in one of his graduate classes, and had taken great joy in showing it off. Inigo blinked, and saw that the hologram masks had disappeared.
“Oh, that’s too bad.†Said Kennedy, now a strange older man. “You saw our faces. Now you’ve gotta die.†The Ex-president pressed the laser pistol into Inigos forehead. Inigo resolved to die with his eyes open. Kennedy pulled the trigger.
“You morons.†Eugene stood, the outline of his long coat silhouetted in the doorway. “Your guns use electricity. They’re dead.†Eugene held his sword in front of him, the edge flashing in the low light. “This, however, is still plenty sharp.â€
Kennedy launched himself at Eugene, holding the dead pistol like a club. Eugene sidestepped him and brought the sword down on the back of his knee. Kennedy roared as he fell. Clinton, now a burly blond, squealed and ran past Inigo out the back door.
Washington charged at Eugene, shoulders low, trying to knock him over like a linebacker. Eugene swiped his blade and Inigo saw the man fall forward choking. Inigo heard a car start. Kennedy limped towards the front door but Eugene was behind him, following like a vengeful spirit. Eugene punched the hilt of his sword into the back of Kennedy’s head. He fell forward against the door handle and hit the floor with a thud.
Eugene ran to Inigo and slowly pulled the duct tape from his lovers face. “The police are on their way. I called them as soon as I felt your heart go wild.†Eugene swept his hands over Inigos body. “Did they hurt you?â€
“I’ll kill them. I’ll have vengeance.â€
Eugene unwrapped the tape from Inigo’s wrists. “Inigo, don’t worry, they’ll pay. Legally. If we have to, we’ll find a way to get rid of this stuff together. It’s just a new challenge.â€
Inigo wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. “I worked so hard.â€
“I know.â€
Inigo looked over at Eugene, one eyebrow arched. “Can I ask you something?â€
“Of course.â€
“I thought I knew everything about you, but here you somehow know how to swordfight like a master.â€
“That’s not a question.â€
“Eugene, how can you be a master swordsman, but be afraid of the food that gets caught in the kitchen sink?â€
“I’m not really that great at sword fighting. I’m very rusty.†Eugene took a handkerchief out of his coat and handed it to Inigo. “I used to spar with the finest swordfighter in the world. But that was a long time ago.â€
Ingio let Eugene help him to his feet. He leaned against his lover, his legs numb from being taped to the chair legs. “It was very sexy Eugene. It was a side of you I would very much like to get to know better.â€
Eugene blushed. “Thank you.â€
“I can’t feel your heartbeat anymore.†Inigo rubbed his hands on his chest. “It feels empty.â€
“The EMP pulse must have knocked the transmitter out.†Eugene pressed Inigos hands over his heart. “But it’s here, and will always be here for you.†They kissed, hand overlapping their hearts.
