by submission | Feb 20, 2012 | Story |
Author : Jabez Crisp
Vagner: Your name please?
Niken: Niken, William, Flight Lieutenant, 10039880
Vagner: [pause] Date of birth?
Niken: 29th February 1912
Vagner: And you went missing how long ago?
Niken: To me, well… it has been two years. To you, sixty? Eighty? I’m given to understand we made peace in the end, such as we always do.
Doctor Vagner: So where have you been?
Niken: Amongst the stars, if such a thing seems plausible. Taken… You read what I said to the last doctor. Abducted, he said, by a race called the Herzan.
Doctor Vagner: So why you?
Niken: You’ll probably already know that I was shot down over Kent. A Herzan Hunter-Gatherer ship picked me up while collecting dead meat. I remember the twisted metal, the smell of the Merlin as it smoked me to death. Next thing I knew I was watching the war from an unknown vantage point, being tended to… God only knows why me, maybe I was originally meant to be food. I remember waking in a steel container surrounded by carrion… [Sighs, audible lighting of a cigarette] And of course no one noticed. Well, who would notice a missing dead man or another light in the sky? As it turned out they came down to where the lights were because they thought it was the most civilized. Technically it was. What a depressing farce. [pause] I guess you’d call me the ships cat.
Doctor Vagner: Go on.
Niken: The Herzan are… travelers. A long lost race in search of their home, traveling with the burden of the fact that the faster they travel the less likely they are to get back. I never quite understood the folklore, though they tried to explain. They were running, I could never quite make out if it was a civil war, or war with another race. But whatever fighting they did they were very adept at. I remember once we were ambushed, out by Alpha Proxima. From nowhere these two vast vessels appeared from the blackness. I remember Herzan ships being batted like flies. Fearing for my life, not knowing what death the uncaring vacuum had in mind for me. I was there when they retaliated. Space came alight with fire and the silent thump of destruction. It was [pause] quite terrifying.
Of course, they could travel quickly away from their tormentors, but as they approach light speed time slows down. With that in mind, they have the choice between destruction on their path or the knowledge that when future generations reach their homeworld it will be but an unlit lump of char. Just imagine [pause] growing up and living in a community that only knew the thump of war on the hull and the danger and necessity of repair. The Herzan would travel in vast ships, knowing only florescent light, and surgical steel. After a year with them I got very sick, they sent a smaller craft to drop me back. I was amazed they did that, and humbled as well. But that has left a tremendous problem, it’s been coming for many centuries for us but only a few years for them.
Doctor Vagner: And that is?
Niken: The wake of the journey the Herzan leave behind them can only bring their tormentors here.
by submission | Feb 19, 2012 | Story |
Author : Suzanne Borchers
Edwin lay on his metal bed, his android body hooked into a myriad of short cables to feed his systems for the night. How long had it been since Father had touched his cold metallic arm and flooded it with warmth? How long had it been since he had seen Father?
Where was Father?
Each morning, his android companion unhooked his cables and made him ready for a day of endless waiting. He continued to obey his last order from Father and wrote endless letters to be erased each morning.
Where was Father?
At last one night, Father, accompanied by a short android, came into the room where Edwin lay.
Edwin shook his cables. “Father!”
Father ignored Edwin; instead he smiled down at the small android beside him, his arm around the flesh-colored shoulder. The android glanced at Edwin, and then smiled up at Father. He touched the hand on his shoulder. “Father.”
Father brought the android to Edwin’s double bed, where twin cables to Edwin’s were attached to the headboard. “This is where you’ll sleep, Fred. I’ll see you in the morning, my boy.” After he had hooked up Fred’s cables, Father bent over him to place a hand on Fred’s arm. “We’ve achieved our purpose.”
“Father!” Edwin wanted desperately for Father to touch his cold arm. He needed his flood of warmth. He needed Father. He had waited so long. He waved his tablet filled with letters for his Father’s notice. “Father, look!”
Father glanced toward Edwin and frowned. He turned his attention again to Fred and smiled. “Good night, Fred.” He smoothed Fred’s hair. Before leaving, Father spoke to someone outside the doorway. “Edwin is now superfluous.”
A feminine voice answered, “What if you still need to study him?”
“Just his presence bothers me. It reminds me of our struggle to produce Fred.” Father moved away. Before the door shut behind Father, Edwin heard, “Attend to it tomorrow.”
Father said he was superfluous. Edwin searched his glossary banks to find the meaning of superfluous. His mind recoiled away from the word. Why did Father call him that? What happened to superfluous androids? Had androids A through D been superfluous? Did Fred make him superfluous? He turned his face to study the android beside him.
Fred was the color of Father. Was he warm too? Edwin reached his hand over to touch Fred’s soft hand. Warmth traveled up Edwin’s arm.
Fred’s eyes narrowed. “Get away from me, you…robot!” Fred shoved Edwin aside.
“I’m an android like you,” Edwin insisted.
Fred smiled. “You’re nothing like me.” His smile widened. “Father said you’re superfluous.”
Edwin’s synapses fired wildly. Superfluous! How could Father say that? He had always obeyed Father. He had always longed to see him and feel his warmth. Why did Father need Fred? Why didn’t Father need him?
Was he inferior?
As Edwin moved his hand to touch his own arm, one of Edwin’s synapses misfired burning a new connection. He enjoyed its warmth. Then another burned.
Fred moved a bit farther away from Edwin. “This will be my own bed tomorrow.”
Edwin wanted to smile as he turned once again to Fred. “Perhaps,’ he said.
by submission | Feb 18, 2012 | Story |
Author : B. H. Isaac
My surroundings changed in an instant. The neglected display room and my parked martini glass disappeared, replaced by a frozen landscape with glacial winds tearing at my loosened tux. Fear gave me the momentary strength to free myself from the cacophonous machine and its mechanized tentacles. All remaining delight at the success of this derelict and inebriated attempt to dial the prehistoric glacial epoch faded at the sight of wind-blasted remnants of a lost age. Sections of crumbling walls mixed with prodigious beams and the wreckage of some sort of metal craft which jutted from the ice at random angles. I strained to see beyond 100 meters through an omnipresent mist. There was light, but no sun.
A pair of cloaked shapes seized me. They moved me to a sheltered cavern with an entrance obscured behind the remains of a herculean sign, all its color and iconography blasted beyond recognition.
An assemblage of tattered refugees in clothes similar to mine waited inside, huddling about a warm and faintly glowing device covered with odd levers and back-lit keys. The people appeared to be from different lands and cultures, but all seemed possessed of a distinctly modern aspect. They peered at me with a strange mixture of suspicion and incredulity. I did not understand this reception until thrust before the bed of a dying man who was wrapped in furs and surrounded by throngs of doleful acolytes. I gazed through the murk in horror as my eyes adjusted to the dimness. Though the man appeared quite advanced in years, I recognized him immediately.
He was an older version of me.
The age shriveled man coughed severely, then mustered his remaining strength to hand me a charred note displaying a sequence of curious numbers: 2013011723591347.42301-20.28854. His trembling voice struggled to form words. I understood two: “Be ready.”
by submission | Feb 15, 2012 | Story |
Author : Phil Newton
Sammy always used his polished titanium Tek-Tech Grav Boots to reach the Hundred Foot High Branch — cheater. I climbed. I climbed well. Still, grav boots were cool. I wish my parents had money.
‘Wiry’, that’s what coach called me. I should try wrestling. I needed more meat on my bones if I wanted to play football.
Sammy wasn’t cut out for football or wrestling, he carried too much meat. He would never be mistaken for wiry. On the other hand, he was the king of the cheap shot. That didn’t win him any friends. He didn’t need any. His parents had money.
Sammy always beat me to the high branch, but I was closing the gap. Grav boots were cool, but they weren’t fast. I was fast — getting faster. Sammy knew. Sammy feared. I overheard him whining to his dad over his wrist com. He wanted the upgrade. His dad refused. Sammy would wear him down. He always did. Sammy was a whining sissy baby. Still, grav boots were cool. I wish my parents had money.
My path is memorized. My muscles recalled each gap, the bounce of each branch. Yesterday, I nearly beat Sammy, even though I slipped on my second step. Sammy saw the inevitable end of his reign. His upgrade will be delivered tomorrow. I could not afford a mistake today.
My climb was perfection. I even flipped up from my last handhold into my perch atop the Hundred Foot High Branch. Sammy didn’t care for my show-boating, though he probably would have kicked me regardless. Grav boots are cool, and titanium is hard.
Sammy the rich boy…
Sammy the ass…
Still, half-way down I’m wishing my parents had money.
by submission | Feb 12, 2012 | Story |
Author : Jason Verch
It was time to put Em to sleep, but he could tell there was something on her mind.
“Everything ok sweetie?” he asked.
“Dad. Kay is an AI, right?”
“Well sure, you know that. She is a robot with an AI built in that controls her.”
“But I thought AIs were made to do really hard things that regular people aren’t smart enough for. Why do we have one for a housekeeper?”
“That is what AIs are mostly used for, but not every AI is smart enough to be a doctor or a scientist. Some are only as smart as an average person, and some not even that smart. Usually the ones that aren’t that smart get destroyed but daddy is able to keep some of the ones from work that don’t work out, and that?s how we got Kay.”
“What if I don’t turn out to be smart, will you and Mommy throw me away?!” She sounded on the verge of tears.
He reassured her, “Of course not sweetie, don’t be silly. That’s just part of my job at work. Mommy and I love you and will always love you no matter what.” This seemed to calm her.
“Do you think someday I could design AIs like you do? I think that would be fun.” She said.
“I think you can do whatever you want when you grow up. You are already smarter than all the other kids in your class, and get perfect marks on all your tests. You can be a doctor, a lawyer or yes, an AI designer. I’m sure you can be whatever you want to be.” Satisfied that he calmed her he added, “But now I need you to be a good little girl and go to sleep. It’s already past your bedtime.”
“Ok daddy. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Em, I love you,” he said, as he typed the commands on his handheld to put the program in hibernation for the night.
An AI that designs other AIs he thought to himself. Well, I guess it could happen, but there was something unsettling about the thought. Wasn’t there some old 2d movie like that with President what’s His Name where AI robots take over the earth? That was just Hollywood fantasy; he put it out of his mind. He wasn’t sure what Iteration M would be used for, but there was no denying she was already leaps and bounds beyond the first eleven iterations of the program. Whatever she did it would be something great, something to make him proud, and definitely not another damn housekeeper.
