by Patricia Stewart | Dec 25, 2009 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
Kathryn opened the door to let her fiancée in. He brushed passed her and parked in front of the hall mirror. Carefully, he fluffed the snow off of his hair. Satisfied, he turned to kiss her, but stopped short when he noticed that she was still wearing her work overalls. “Kathryn, you’re not dressed yet? My parents are meeting us at Ducasse’s at eight.”
“I’m sorry Quincy, I was so busy that I lost track of the time.” Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she added, “I have a surprise for you. I activated my android this afternoon. Kris,” she yelled, “come out and say hello to Quincy.”
A plump android with a long white beard wearing cotton long johns walked out of the den. His cheeks and nose were a rosy red.”
“What? You’ve spent the last six months building a drunken old man?” exclaimed her fiancée without humor.
“Ho, ho, ho,” bellowed the android. “Don’t be silly, young man. I’m Santa Claus.”
Kathryn smiled. He was soooo perfect. “Kris,” she said, “go put on your red suit.” After the android returned to the den, she turned toward Quincy and put her index finger to her lips. “Shhhh. He doesn’t know he’s an android. I programmed him to think that he really is Santa Claus. I’m taking him to Macy’s tomorrow. The children will love him. He’s so full of joy, it’s contagious.”
“Kathryn!” Quincy snapped. “Have you lost your mind? You’re wasting your degree in cybernetics. You couldn’t think of anything practical to construct? That thing is worthless.”
Belittling her dream angered her. “Would you be happier if I created another pompous ass?” she retorted.
“You could do a lot worse than me, Kathryn. There are millions of eligible women who would kill to be in your shoes. Now, turn that damn thing off and get dressed.”
Kathryn’s eyes began to tear, but she didn’t move.
“Look Kathryn, you either do as I order, or I’m going to the restaurant without you.”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you just go, for good.” She pulled the engagement ring off her finger and slammed it into his hand.
“You can’t be serious. Okay, forget it. I’m better off without you.” And he stormed out the door.
Kathryn sat on the couch, weeping. Suddenly, she felt a strong, reassuring arm reach around and hug her shoulder, as the android sat next to her. “There, there, Kathy, please don’t cry. Everything will be all right. Look,” he added, “I want to show you something.” He took a magazine from the coffee table and tore out a sheet. He deftly folded the page a dozen ways and produced a beautiful origami swan.
Kathryn managed a smile, although she was still sniffling. She wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “It’s beautiful. But, I didn’t progra… How did you know how to do that?”
“I’m Santa Claus, my dear, I can do anything.” And then he produced a red rose, as if from thin air.
She took the flower and sniffed it. “It’s real. But how?”
“Consider it Christmas Magic. You know,” he added thoughtfully, “Quincy is the world’s greatest fool. And on Christmas Eve, I think I’ll put a big lump of coal in his stocking.”
Kathryn laughed, something only a few minutes earlier she thought she’d never do again. She hugged the cuddly android. “Thank you, Santa.”
“Come,” he said, “let’s go to the kitchen for some milk and cookies?”
“I’d like that,” she replied. “I love milk and cookies.”
“Me too,” he said as his eyes literally twinkled.
by Patricia Stewart | Dec 7, 2009 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
“If the human ambassador moves, kill him,” ordered the Torellian captain. His two security guards instantly leveled their phasers at Ambassador Dorn.
Dorn smiled, and said to his security escort, “Men, if the Torellian guards shoot me, you are to kill the two guards, and captain T’Noroi, before my body hits the deck. Understood?”
“Aye, sir,” was the simultaneous reply.
Then, Dorn defiantly marched across the bridge of the Torelian flagship, and stopped inches in front of the Torellian captain. The Torrellian guards twitched, but never fired. “Well, Captain, back on Earth, this is what we’d call a ‘Mexican standoff’. Will we die together, or talk?”
T’Noroi’s expression had changed three times during Dorn’s approach; from shock that the earthman had ignored his threat, to anger that his guards didn’t carry out his orders, and finally to a thin smile at the ambassador’s imperiousness. After a few seconds, his smile evolved into a chuckle that culminated in a hardy laugh. “Ambassador,” he said, “I do believe Earth has sent the right negotiator. Guards, holster your weapons.”
Dorn turned toward his men, and winked. They acknowledged, and also stowed their phasers. Dorn returned his attention to T’Noroi. “Surely Captain, the Torrelians don’t want to start an interstellar war over this worthless asteroid,” he pointed toward the five mile wide asteroid that was visible on the bridge’s main viewscreen.
“You have no claim on that asteroid, Ambassador. It’s clearly in our space.”
“That may be true, Captain, but when the treaty was signed, the asteroid was in our space, and hence, it’s our property.” Localized conflicts between Earth forces and the Torrelians had been escalating for years. All out war was considered inevitable. Dorn’s mission was to convince the Torrelians that a war with Earth would not be in their best interest.
“Well, I say it belongs to the Torellian Empire,” argued Captain T’Noroi. But, Ambassador, I can be reasonable. I’ll make you a proposal. If you can push the asteroid back into Earth space, you can keep it.” Again, he laughed.
Undaunted, Dorn replied, “I’ll make you a counter proposal, Captain. How about we destroy the asteroid, and you can keep the debris.”
Amused, T’Noroi decided to call the earthman’s bluff. “Be my guest, Ambassador. It will be interesting to see such an audacious attempt. That asteroid’s mass is a billion times larger than your ship. I’ll be sure to send the recorded images of your futility back to the homeworld. It will be great fair for the late night talk shows.”
Dorn opened his communicator and said “Commander, destroy the asteroid.”
As the ambassador and captain watched, a beam of light streaked from the earth ship toward the asteroid. Almost instantly, the asteroid exploded into a billion fiery fragments. T’Noroi’s pompous grin disappeared. He was clearly awed by the display of firepower. He became weak, and collapsed into his command chair, speechless.
“Well, I guess I’ll be heading back to my ship now, Captain. Sorry about the mess.”
***
Dorn didn’t start laughing until he returned to his own bridge. “Nice shot, Commander. Perfect timing on the detonation. You thoroughly impressed the Torelians.”
“I can imagine. I wish I was there to see T’Noroi’s face. The two tons of antimatter that we buried in the asteroid last year was nearly one half of Earth’s total supply.”
“Worth every ounce, Commander. I don’t think the Torellians will be itching for a fight with Earth anytime soon.”
by Patricia Stewart | Nov 30, 2009 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
After the Great Energy Wars of the twenty third century, human civilization was almost non-existent. The human global population had been reduced from nine billion to a few hundred thousand. The original global superpowers, China, India, and the USA had been obliterated. Radioactive fallout made much of the Earth’s land surface unusable. Most of the survivors were clustered into small nomadic tribes that were widely dispersed in areas that contained reasonably fertile soil and where there were some animals to hunt. The birth rate was low, and the mortality rate was high. If you were lucky enough to reach forty, you were probably the oldest person within a thousand miles. Life was very hard, and everyday was a struggle. However, all that was all before the Leonians arrived.
The Leonians were a humanoid race from a planet orbiting a star called Regulus. They were a little smaller than humans, had greenish skin, and no hair. They had four eyes; two in the front, and two in the back. That was kind of creepy, but they were nice folk, nevertheless. They arrived with a fleet of 1000 spaceships. They claimed that they had been monitoring Earth for several years and wanted to provide assistance. They said it was what their species was driven to do; help others that were less fortunate. Their offer seemed sincere, and quite generous. I don’t know if the rest of the world agreed to accept their help, but the hundred of us living near Johannesburg did.
They got to work right away. They began neutralizing the radioactive areas and purifying our water supply. We helped where we could, but their robots did most of the real labor. They even built us a community center on the top of a small hill. We used the building for group meals, town meetings, training, and minor medical treatment. During the weekly town meetings, the Leonian captain would regale us with fascinating stories of exploration and adventure. We’d listen for hours on end. Life was good.
Eventually, we had ample farm lands, plenty of clean water, a small hospital manned by robots, and even a one room schoolhouse. Then one day, the Leonian captain informed us that he needed to move his ship to another location, to help other humans who were still struggling to stay alive. He said that he’d stop back now and then to check up on us, and to swap out the three crew members that had volunteered to stay with the settlement. We gave them a big going away party, thanked them at least a thousand times, and wished them luck at their next stop.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly until about a year later. We started noticing involuntary changes in our vocabulary. Instead of saying “God bless you,” after someone sneezed, we said, “Gluon nigh vit.” We started uttering other unknown words, like muon, lepton, and hadron. The children made strange sculptures and bizarre drawings. When we asked one of the resident Leonians if he understood what was happening, he was overjoyed. “Ah, this is wonderful news, my children. You have finally begun your greatest journey. I was hoping that the conversion would occur while I was still here with you. The Holy Cosmic Egg must be thrilled that you have cast away your false gods and have come to worship in his glory. Come, let us pray together.”
by Patricia Stewart | Nov 19, 2009 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
Senator Reginald Wadsworth lay in his hospital bed; his biphasic artificial respirator hissed rhythmically as it expanded and contracted every six seconds. Dozens of electrical biosensors monitored his vital signs, while a miniature tubular highway of transparent hoses pumped fluids into, and out of, his body. Doctor Clive Colin stood next to the bed and studied the latest medical report. “Senator,” he said solemnly, “modern medicine cannot keep your body alive much longer. You need to make a decision concerning the memory transfer procedure that we discussed last week. Tomorrow, the state of Texas plans to execute Gilberto Escobar. He’s the drug kingpin that killed six DEA agents during a raid in ‘56. I’ve been in contact with him since he lost his last clemency hearing. He says that if you agree to give his family ten million dollars, he’ll give you his body. The procedure is called a cerebral cortex transfer. We use a high frequency neuroreprogrammer to overwrite his frontal and temporal lobes with synaptic data that we record from your brain. I know that’s a little oversimplified, but the bottom line is that we’ll erase his brain and imprint your memories. In essence, we replace your old dying body with a young healthy one. Senator, you are a very influential man. Say the word, and I’ll notify the Justice Department. We can make this happen.” Wadsworth closed his eyes and nodded his head once.
The following day, Wadsworth and Escobar lay side-by-side in the “operating” room. Wadsworth’s skull was capped with thousands of Electrocorticographic receivers. Escobar’s head was surrounded by a large bank of Electrocorticographic imprinters. The procedure took eight hours, and while in recovery, the body known as Wadsworth died. When Escobar regained consciousness, he smiled. “Doctor Colin,” he whispered, “It worked! And there’s no pain. I can breathe on my own. I can move my arms. This is fantastic. Thank you, thank you.” He openly cried.
After an extensive interview/interrogation by the District Attorney’s office, it was reluctantly determined that with the exception of a few minor inconsistencies, the knowledge and mental attributes that had been in Wadsworth brain were now in Escobar’s brain, and everything that was Escobar was gone. After the attorneys completed all the necessary paperwork, the new Wadsworth walked out of the hospital to a waiting hoverlimo.
A month later, Senator Wadsworth strutted into Doctor Colin’s office. He plopped down into one of the large leather chairs that faced the doctor’s desk. “Well, my friend, I as agreed, I deposited twenty million dollars into your offshore account. I never thought that we could pull it off. The detailed information that you provided me concerning Wadsworth’s personal background was invaluable. We fooled them all.” Escobar stood up and walked toward the door.
“Are you going back to Colombia, Escobar?” asked Colin.
“No, Clive. Not right away. I think I’ll stay in the US Senate for a while, and make an honest living.” He chuckled as he strutted out of the office.
by Patricia Stewart | Nov 6, 2009 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
Major Clanet’s head felt like it had split in half. He forced his eyes open and saw his android navigator standing above him. “What happened?” he asked.
The android extended a hand and helped the human to his feet. “We delivered the supplies to the station, and were returning to Earth. During reentry, there was a structural failure of the right hand glide wing. We began to tumble violently. You blacked out. Seconds before the shuttle exploded, aliens beamed us onto their spacecraft.”
“Aliens? What makes you think it was aliens?”
“Teleportation technology does not exist on Earth, so I concluded extraterrestrials were involved.”
“Right,” Clanet reluctantly acknowledged. “Well, when taken prisoner, our first duty is to escape. Are we still in space?”
“No. I believe the ship has landed.”
Clanet surveyed the small room. There were four walls; two curved and two straight. A convex wall contained a large door with a vertical handle near the right hand side. The opposite wall was concave, and contained a similar door, but the handle was horizontal and crossed the mid-height of the door. “Assuming the ship is cylindrical,” Clanet concluded, “the concave wall must contain the door to the outside.” He walked over to the door and pushed against the handle with all his strength, but nothing happened. “Damn, it’s locked. I guess we’ll have to go inboard, and fight our way out. We need to find some kind of weapon.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Major Clanet? The aliens saved our lives, there is no reason to assume that they intend to harm us.”
“First of all, they saved my life, you’re not alive. You’re just a sophisticated GPS unit. Secondly, I’m the one that does the thinking. That’s what humans do best.” Clanet strode over to the convex wall and grabbed the door’s vertical handle and pulled; first with one hand, then with two. The door didn’t budge. “Damn, both doors are locked.”
The android walked over to the door and placed his index finger on the vertical handle. “It has been my experience,” he lectured, “that human arrogance hampers your ability to reason. Your species assumes that your physiology is the pinnacle of evolution. Hence, you built robots in your image, even though there are more efficient design options. You also assume that aliens must look like you; with two legs, two arms, two hands, and opposable thumbs. Therefore, you conclude that a vertical handle must always be pulled.” The android gave a slight push with his finger and the door swung open.
The android entered first, followed by Clanet. The adjacent room was clearly the bridge. It contained approximately thirty robots of varying sizes and configurations. A few were scurrying about, but most were occupied at the numerous work stations. A tall, bobble-head robot, with four snake-like arms appeared to be directing activities from the center of the bridge. It finally noticed the two newcomers and quickly motored toward them on a pair of rapidly rotating tank treads. It agilely banked around several crisscrossing robots, and came to a screeching stop a few feet away. “Good, good, you appear to be functional. We are very pleased to make your greeting. We look forward to a great friendship between our two worlds.” The alien robot suddenly stopped its rambling and turned toward Major Clanet. Its optical scanner panned the human from head to toe. “Ah,” it said as he turned back toward the android, “I see that your companion is biological. Is it a servant, or a pet?”
