by Patricia Stewart | Jan 17, 2011 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
“We know that you released the Vigilante Spheres, Dr. Vehmic. So, you might as well confess,” argued the investigator.
Dr. Vehmic leaned back in his chair and smiled. Yes, he did release the spheres, but they couldn’t prove it. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” he replied.
“Quit playing games, Doctor. We have a copy of your thesis from ’16. We know that you theorized building autonomous devices with unlimited range that can fly, hover, and kill.”
Dr. Vehmic waved his hand dismissively. “That was mere speculation on the part of an ambitious young graduate student looking for employment in the defense industry. Nothing ever came of it.”
“That’s not what Dr. Curtis told us.”
Oh crap, thought Vehmic, but he kept his composure. “Who’s he?”
The investigator picked up a folder and opened it. “Dr. Timothy Curtis, a famous neuroscientist. I’m surprised that you haven’t heard of him, since we have video of the two of you together. It seems that he has developed the technology to decipher the syntax and the semantics of neural language. He can read minds, in other words. And he incorporated that technology into your automatons.”
“To what end,” demanded Vehmic?
“Here’s what I think,” began the investigator. “Ever since your wife and son were killed by Islamic terrorists, you’ve been plotting revenge. But deep down, you’re a decent man, unable to kill just any Muslim. You’re only after the really bad ones. So, you created these ‘Vigilante Spheres’ as they’ve come to be known, and released thousands of them in the Arabian Peninsula. They’re programmed to scan the brains of random individuals. If they detect that the individual is a terrorist, or fundamental Islamic extremist, it exposes them to a lethal dose of hard radiation. They get sick, and die a horrible death. Your devices have killed thousands already, and they are spreading to other parts of the world. Unfortunately, Dr. Vehmic, whatever your ‘execution criterion’ was, it wasn’t specific enough. Your devices are killing more than just Islamic terrorists. It appears that they’re killing anybody that meets your definition of ‘evil.’ In the last month, that list includes mercenaries, drug dealers, military commanders, world leaders, even some murderers who were already safely locked away in prison. Don’t get me wrong, Doctor, they were all bad actors, to be sure, but the U.S. Government can’t have its citizens killing foreign dignitaries, even if they are murderers. Now, Dr. Vehmic, you to tell us how to deactivate these devises.”
Still defiant, Vehmic replied. “Sorry Inspector, you’ve got the wrong man.”
“We’ll see,” said the inspector as he lifted a metal box onto the table. “I have a theory, Doctor. I don’t believe that your programming differentiates between individuals that kill for ideological reasons, from those that kill simply because they are “evil”. So, has your quest for revenge blackened your soul? Has blind hatred turned you into an evil person?”
The inspector began unlatching the metal clamps securing the lid of the box. “Now, I estimate that in the last year, you are personally responsible for killing at least ten thousand people with your spheres. Oh, by the way,” he added, “we captured one of them, and I happen to have it right here.” He patted the top of the box. “So, Dr. Vehmic, will you tell us how to deactivate the spheres, or should I let this one out of the box? I’d really like to know if my theory is correct. What do you think, Doctor? Will one of your spheres consider you an ‘evil’ person?”
by Patricia Stewart | Jan 4, 2011 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
“Exactly what do you expect is going to happen, Dr. Erwin?” asked Captain Podolsky as he stared out the aft viewport.
“Well, Captain, if Schrodinger’s unpublished theorem is correct, when I create a quantum bubble around that asteroid, it should cease to exist in our universe.”
“I’m not a scientist Doctor, but doesn’t that violate a law of physics?”
“Several, Captain. But in science, laws evolve, or are rewritten. So, shall we revise science as we currently know it?”
But before Dr. Erwin could activate the Quantum Bubble Generator, the emergency claxon sounded. “Bridge to Captain, long range sensors are picking up a Deneobian attack force closing in on our position.”
Damn, thought Podolsky. He had tried to convince Central Command that it was better to test the device with a battle ready escort, but they had elected to conduct the experiment with a low profile. “Under the scanners,” they had said. Well, that’s plasma out the exhaust. “Unfortunately, Doctor, it looks like the war may delay your date with the scientific legislature. Lieutenant, set a course for the delta sector, maximum warp. Let me know it they attempt to pursue us. Maybe their appearance was just a coincidence.”
“Aye-aye, sir.” After a tense minute of silence, they got their answer. “No luck, Captain. They’ve altered course and are following us. And sir, they must have improved their warp drive, because they are gaining, fast. I estimate that they’ll overtake us in twenty minutes.”
“Understood, Lieutenant. I’m on my way to the bridge.” Then he addressed Erwin, “We’re only a frigate, Doctor. We’re no match for a Deneobian attack force. Command thought a lone ship would go unnoticed, but I suspect that their spies have found out about your experiment. If we can’t outrun them, I’ll have to initiate the autodestruct. I can’t let them get the bubble generator, or the scientists that built it.” He started to leave, and then abruptly stopped. “Doctor, is there any way your device could make their ships cease to exist?”
“Unfortunately, Captain, no. At least, not while they’re in hyperspace. The quantum bubble wouldn’t be stable. However, if you engaged them in normal space, I could give it a shot.”
“Sorry, Doctor. I can’t take that chance.” Again, he turned to leave.
“Captain,” called out Erwin, “if you have to go the autodestruct route, can you give us a minute’s notice? We may come up with something.”
Podolsky nodded, and left.
***
Eighteen minutes later, the captain called down to engineering. “Doctor, they’re right on our tails, and help is more than an hour away. If you got a trick up your sleeve, now would be a good time.”
Erwin and his team had spent the last fifteen minutes reprogramming the Quantum Bubble Generator. “We think so, Captain. It seems the hyperspace equation may have more than one solution after all. Please maintain our current course,” he replied as he activated the generator. As the frigate streaked through hyperspace, a star sized elongated cloud of antimatter gas formed in its wake. Seconds later, the Deneobian fleet plowed through the rarified cloud of antimatter only to explode in rapid succession a heartbeat later. The science team erupted into cheers, and Dr. Erwin simply smiled. Some laws, he thought, were meant to be broken.
by Patricia Stewart | Dec 20, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
The double doors whooshed open and an impeccably dressed elderly man strode into the conference room. He was instantly greeted by Sebastian Macy, who firmly gripped his outstretched hand. “Nickolas, you old dog,” said Macy with an affectionate smile. “You’re looking well.”
Nickolas returned the jovial smile. “Thank you, Sebastian. It’s been a good Season,” he said as he patted his round belly. “Perhaps too good,” he added with a hearty laugh.
“So, tell me old friend,” asked Sebastian, “are those contract laborers from Alpha Centauri everything I said they would be?”
“They’re absolutely a godsend, Sebastian. Inch for inch, they’re the finest craftsmen in the galaxy. In fact, before I leave, I’d like to extend their contract for another year, with a 30% increase in pay.”
“Excellent! I’ll have my assistant prepare the extension request. But that’s not why you’re here, is it? Your message said that you were interested in buying eight adult Svev’hjorts.”
“That’s right, and I’m coming up against a hard deadline, so time is of the essence. Were you able to find a first-rate breeder?”
“I have,” replied Macy as he stepped to one side to reveal an attractive young woman with long blond hair, dazzling hazel eyes, and an endearing smile. “Let me introduce you to her. This is…” but Nickolas cut him off with an upheld hand.
The old man surveyed the young woman with the eye of a detective trying to match a name to a face. “No need, Sebastian,” he finally said. “This is Melanie Rider. I’ve known her since she was a child.”
Startled, the woman asked, “I’m sorry, sir, have we met?”
“Not officially, my dear. But in my business, you get to know a lot of people. But I thought your true love was Arabian horses, not Svev’hjorts.”
This kind of intimate personal knowledge would have alarmed most people, but the white haired man was so amiable and charming that she knew she had nothing to dread. “I consider Arabians my terrestrial favorite,” she replied coyly. “But there is nothing in the universe like a Svev’hjort. In the high gravity of their native planet, they can leap half a mile and land as gracefully as a ballet dancer. On a planet like Earth, they can practically fly.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Nickolas with a wide grin. “Well, then, I need eight of your finest animals. Can that be arranged?”
“Not a problem, sir. I maintain a stable on Pegasi V.”
“Ah, yes, Pegasi V. The ‘Galaxy’s Arctic Play World’. I’ve been there many times.”
“It is a beautiful planet,” conceded Rider. “The Svev’hjorts love the cold almost as much as I do.”
“Then I’m sure they’ll enjoy their new home. So, how soon can you deliver them?”
“I can have them here in three days. Will that be satisfactory?”
“Perfect,” he replied. “But, tell me dear,” he added as though he suddenly remembered another task. “Is it true that some Svev’hjorts are, what’s the word, bioluminescent?”
“Actually, that’s only partly true. The entire animal is not bioluminescent; the characteristic is limited to a few body parts, and the trait vanishes around the age of three.”
“That will work out just fine,” he said with a nod and a twinkle in his eye. “I shall only need his ability for one night. They’re predicting a particularly thick fog later this week, you know. So, in addition to the eight adults, please include one young Svev’hjort. And be sure that he has a bright shiny red nose.”
by Patricia Stewart | Dec 7, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
As the comet approached the sun, trillions of trillions of Fultons withdrew from their hibernated state and joined the collective. Individually, the microscopic Fultons had no power of reasoning, merely instinctive drives to survive and reproduce. However, on these cyclic sojourns around their luminary, the group consciousness “remembered” the purpose of their existence. They were the seeds of a great space fairing race that colonized the dusty arms of this massive spiral galaxy. But they couldn’t do it alone. They needed the help of other species. But not any species fit the bill. They required a species that had the technology to reach the stars. With the help of their hosts, the Fultons could expand outward against the solar winds of other stars and plant more seeds. That was the way of the Fultons. It was why their ancestors selected comets to deliver their seeds. Comets would return to the habitable zone of a star thousands of times during its existence. Each time releasing a small percentage of their seeds, in the hope that the life on the planet was ready. If not, then maybe on the next pass. Satisfied that the time was right, the seeds nearest the surface of the comet allowed themselves to be blown into the void by the vaporizing ice. Isolated and adrift in the cosmos, they lost consciousness.
It was years before they were swept up by the gravity well of a passing planet. Over time, the isolated seeds dispersed around the troposphere, drifting aimlessly until they landed on a suitable host.
Feeding and dividing. Feeding and dividing. As the mother and its offspring continued to multiply within its host, they acquired more and more neural connections. Eventually, they became sentient again, ready to fulfill their destiny. If the host were ready, they thought, they would communicate their presence, share their collective knowledge, and transform themselves from a parasite to a symbiot. Together, the Fultons and the new host would become more than the sum of their parts. They would become partners in the great expansion. If all went well, their new hosts would move outward toward the stars, and the Fulton and her children would go with them. And in their wake, seeded comets, carrying the next generation of Fultons, would be set adrift to start the cycle anew. But, first things first, thought the Fultons. They needed to extend their tendrils into their host; Learn its language, talk to it, and reveal the great future that awaits it/them. And so they started. Fleeting images became concepts; concepts became words, and words became thoughts. But the thoughts were all wrong. Rather than embrace the Fultons, the host used vile words to describe them. “Cancer, tumor, malignant.” It followed these words with words of impending murder, “chemo, radiation, and surgery.” Why was the host resisting them? Didn’t it understand? The Fultons would share great knowledge. Why wasn’t this host listening? The Fulton’s children began to collectively scream as millions twisted and died. As their numbers dwindled, the mother cried as she slowly lost consciousness.
by Patricia Stewart | Nov 25, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
Viisas signaled the plaintiff that it was ready to receive its opening statement.
“Your Honor,” transmitted Rotalutsop, “Reus sold me a planet that is completely unusable, and I want a full refund.”
Viisas processed the opening statement for several microseconds. “I should remind you, Mt. Rotalutsop, that case law is explicit in matters dealing with property transactions. You cannot revoke an offer of contract, even if the celestial object is unfit for ordinary purposes.”
“But, Your Honor,” pleaded Rotalutsop, “Reus actively concealed latent defects in the planet. That makes it fraud. Therefore, by statutory law, I’m entitled to a full refund, in addition to compensatory damages.”
“Did you receive a Real Estate Sales Disclosure Statement at settlement in compliance with the Seller Disclosure Act of 565.951?”
“Yes, Your Honor, and I’ve scanned it a hundred times. There is no mention that the planet was infested with parasites.”
“Is the Plaintiff’s accusation true, Mt. Reus?”
“Of course not,” replied the defendant. “Rotalutsop is exaggerating. I would hardly consider eight billion humans an ‘infestation’. And besides, Your Honor, whether or not humans are technically ‘parasites’ is still under debate.”
“Not in my universe, Mt. Reus. I order you to transfer the full selling price, plus thirty percent, to the Plaintiff’s account before ninty standard free neutron decays. You’re lucky that I don’t have the authorization to deactivate you for this kind of uncivilized behavior. Next case.”
