by Desmond Hussey | Oct 4, 2013 | Story |
Author : Desmond Hussey, Staff Writer
PROGRESS REPORT
To: B’naar Vetch, President of Trans-galactic Mining Conglomerate (TMC)
Subject: Increased Efficiency
Submitted By: T’lal-fphoon of Gondol Prime
Bio-Geo Engineer, 6th Rank
Galactic Epoch 62, Cycle 4350.5.3.874-Q
PROPOSAL: The primary objective of the Indigenous Harvesters Project (TIHP) is to train the indigenous, sentient populations of resource rich planets to do the preliminary ground work of harvesting their assests for us via a six phase program.
PHASE 1: Identify and Infiltrate primitive societies on planets with abundant desirable assets.
PHASE 2: Genetic Encoding. Covertly accelerate species’ natural evolutionary processes, i.e. mutations for better tool manipulation, and/or adaptability to hostile environments, and/or increased intelligence for enhanced productivity. The latter should be used with extreme caution.
PHASE 3: Control. Mandatory to ensure loyalty from and/or provide incentives for indigenous workers, including, but not limited to, one or several of the following:
– Establishment of Religious Institutions. TMC operatives will impersonate powerful deities. Failure to comply with”Divine Law” would result in being made to suffer some form of “Existential Punishment”.
– Modification of target species’ psychology. Enhancement of the cognitive dissonance required for religious/political control, coercion and/or bribery.
– Military force and/or slavery may be required due to costly/ unalterable aspect of genetics, an advanced/old species, or a particularly hostile/inscrutable intelligence. (Note: To be explored only if the financial input/output index is considered profitable.)
PHASE 4: Training. Educate a select few natives on the basic properties of desired assets, including efficient harvesting methods.
PHASE 5: Wait. Within 2-5 Cycles the newly indoctrinated species will have mastered the skills required to extract and stockpile target assets.
PHASE 6: Harvest. When target quota has been accumulated harvest ships are dispatched. During a swift, efficient operation a planet’s assets could be collected within a single day (galactic standard).
PRELIMINARY FINDINGS: Our trial of TIHP has been a tremendous success! No one anticipated the ingenuity of the species known as Homo Sapiens (HS) in the Sol system when we began TIHP experiments over 20 cycles ago.
Phases 1 and 2 identified HS as a primitive, easily manipulated race requiring minor adjustments to their already adaptable biology and intelligence. They took to religion eagerly in Phase 3, even believing they were fashioned in the image of their “creator” – a stroke of genius on the part of the agent involved. < (Recommend immediate promotion to entity known as Yahweh.)> Throughout Phases 4 and 5, our observers recorded the evolution of a complex culture obsessed with the accumulation, manufacture and/or distribution of primary, secondary and tertiary assets. Those endowed with our specialized knowledge assumed a privileged lifestyle while the rest of society toiled in substandard conditions.
The species exceeded expectations, even developed, independently, new methods of mining and extraction which are now being taught in TMC training halls. The profit input/output index of this TIHP has become the new benchmark for all present and future operations.
The harvest ships have been deployed several cycles ahead of schedule.
CONCLUSION: Despite initial output, we anticipate colossal long-term profits through TIHP. Consequently, TMC will be free to expend materials and manpower to exploit uninhabited, mineral rich planets, meteors and asteroids.
Note: The environmental impact of TIHP has left the planet pockmarked with massive open mining pits, all major rivers dammed and a majority of forests harvested. Domestic and industrial pollutants contaminate land, air and waterways. The overpopulated indigenous workforce will be left to live out the rest of their days on a planet stripped of the basic necessities for a stable, sustainable existence.
To be considered collateral damage.
I humbly recommend immediate implementation of TIHP on all suitable planets.
Signed:
T’lal-fphoon
by Julian Miles | Oct 3, 2013 | Story |
Author : Julian Miles, Staff Writer
The rage in her eyes has faded. My head is in her lap. From the look on her face, she’s realised it too.
“You stupid bastard.” Her voice is hoarse. My last throat-chop had been vicious.
We were both ultimates. For rival corporations. It was inevitable that we’d clash. This rain- and wind-swept ruin was the setting for our twenty minute battle. I spent the first few minutes running, having seen my mother’s face on my adversary.
“I thought you looked familiar.” She’s crying.
I swallow and smile. “You too.”
“Cleveland Bight?”
I nod and wince.
“With dad?”
I nod slowly. “Only for a little while. He wasn’t as good as he thought. Pilmarken took him down and adopted me as his protégé.”
Her face goes white with shock. “Mum turned down Pilmarken several times just after dad took you. The last time, he said we’d all be sorry.”
“What happened to him?”
“Napalmed in a dead-end alley.”
I smile at her. “Saves us having to kill him.”
She nods and smiles. “You’re not dying?”
I check my diagnostics. I had been. “Not any more. You came closest.”
I see my mum’s righteous grin on her face. “Too right. What now?”
“Phuket.”
“Swearing won’t – oh, of course.”
The Vory-Triad alliance has been desperate for ultimates. A brother-sister team with inside knowledge of two corporations? We’re a bargain no matter what we ask for.
“If you pull your cyber-breaker out of my lower spine, I can make the intercontinental on my own legs and do my share of the fighting on the way.”
Her eyes go wide and she gasps. “Oh crap! Sorry.”
by submission | Oct 2, 2013 | Story |
Author : Carter Lee
Welcome to Snuff Artist: A Retrospective on the Artwork of Kolin 34 Kan
‘Mr. Bargeld? Welcome to the Central Museum! I’m Ronild; Director March has asked me to show you through the exhibition hall before your meeting with Artist Kan. If you’d follow me?
‘As you can see we’ve set up a small display here, so that prior to entering the actual display hall, anyone who isn’t familiar with the history of ‘Thanatotic Art’ can get a basic understanding. I know Artist Kan prefers the title ‘Snuff Artist’, which is, of course, his prerogative as a master, but the Director felt that the more academic title would help newcomers to understand how this branch of art developed prior to Artist Kan’s ascendancy as it’s greatest artisan. So many people think Artist Kan was the first to use his own bodies death as an artistic medium, when the truth is, even prior to the possibility of recreating the artist through cloning and memory implantation, some were using the end of their ‘mortal coil’ as an artistic statement. Some have even argued that the death of E.A. Poe, V. Woolf, and R. Akutagawa should be read as part of their creative life.
‘Inside the hallway, the first display the patrons will come upon is Artist Kan’s seminal work, ‘Blown Mind: Shotgun’. While this composition, formed, as you can see, of chair, shotgun, corpse, and wall covered with the artist’s blood and brains, is the first that brought Artist Kan to wide attention, not many know this is actually the third in the ‘Blown Mind’ series, each using a different weapon to create varied aesthetic dispersion of Artist Kan’s brain. It is unfortunate that we weren’t able to arrange for the entire series to be displayed together, but we are indebted to Counsel Atmarch for the loan of ‘Blown Mind: Shotgun’ which has formed the centerpiece of the Counsel’s personal art collection for many years.
‘The rest of the hall represents the best efforts of the Museum’s display design artisans, who worked with replicas and copies of Artist Kan’s oeuvre to create an almost overwhelming effect, organized not chronologically but by aesthetic effect, to allow the returning patron to be unable to wholly take in the totality of the Artist’s work in any single visit. The two ‘Smear’ canvasses form the background on either side, the almost thirty foot length of each covered in the viscera and lifeblood of the Artist left by his being pressed and rubbed against them by vehicle or machine, while ‘Crucifixion’ and ‘Impalement’ anchor the near and far walls. You can see, the highlights of Artist Kan’s works are represented, ‘Draw and Quarter’, ‘Cruel Lye’, and ‘I’m of Two Minds’, which still has the original ax still embedded in the skull…’
‘Hmm? Yes, the empty display at the end is where ‘A Year and a Day in the Life of Death’ will be. At 5pm precisely, Artist Kan will leap from 200 feet above the canvas covered floor. His body will lay within the enclosure, untouched, for 366 days, allowed to decay, before Kolin 35 Kan is awoken, so that the Artist himself can oversee the sealing and preservation of the piece.
‘Well, it appears we should head to the Artist’s preparation chamber, if you’re to arrive on time. It would be a pity if he leapt before you could interview him, wouldn’t it!’
by submission | Oct 1, 2013 | Story |
Author : Mae Thann
“It’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“No, but you knew it’d happen eventually.”
“At this level, Joel? This soon?”
“Why not? If anyone was certain that this was attainable, it was you.”
“I know, but I can’t for the life of me figure this out.”
“Hey, you the girl, Sandra. ‘Leading authority on programming’ and whatnot.”
“Yeah, but look at this! These algorithms – you know what? You decipher them!” She rocketed out of the rolling chair and sent it spinning toward him.
“Sandra – ow!” Joel hopped on one foot while he pulled the other away from the chair’s wheels.
“I need fresh eyes.”
“Whoa, hey, I look at brains, not computer code… much.”
“Quit hopping and sit.”
“Fine,” he conceded. “But you know I’ll probably be of no use to you, right?” He glanced at the robotic boy on the observation table, wired into the system. Joel turned to the computer screen and scrolled through miles of code. Behind him, Sandra shifted her weight, folding and unfolding her arms, sighing at the bot, fuming at the computer. “Wow, this is really… You sure you want me looking at this, Sandra?”
She exhaled impatiently and proceeded to pace, unintentionally clicking her heels in time with the faint mechanical ticking from the observation table. Joel continued in silence. He understood fragments of the code, but the rest seemed little more than a mindless jumble. He stared until his eyes crossed and still nothing made sense.
“I just don’t get it,” Sandra finally said to no one in particular.
Joel clicked on a tab and was met with several graphs. Click, click, click went Sandra’s heels.
“We’ve made very much functional robots before, but this is something we’ve only ever dreamed of.”
A couple graphs spiked, then dropped.
“It’s like… like it understands something. And not just command codes.”
Certain graphs spiked again. Sensor activity? Joel slid the light switch up and down. Sure enough, the graphs labelled “liteSnsr_port071” and “colrSnsr_port080” registered change.
“I’m talking about real understanding,” Sandra went on. “It tried to excuse theft. Excuse it! How do you program excuses? It’s like it’s capable of thinking! Maybe a bit crudely, but compared to other bots…”
Joel typed a command prompt.
“Where did this come from? You don’t just find robots walking out of stores with groceries. You don’t argue with them about… about ethics.”
The performance manager opened, blinked, glitched, then rapidly fired code. Joel chewed his lip, then slid his cursor over a tab that read “WaveReader”.
“And what does it do? Analyze reports? Run diagnostics on hospital patients? Collect information and build business strategies?”
A chart loaded in the window. A line bobbed up and down upon it, just like a… His eyes caught sight of something just under the chart. “Uh… Sandra?”
“But who needs a humanoid bot to do that? Why program the balance needed to make it walk? And why the clothes?”
The chart continued to update itself. Continuous streams of text flowed under different labels, but Joel’s eyes were fixed only on the label “ThotPattrn_Dominant”. “Sandra?”
“And the name!” Sandra rambled on. “What kind of name is -”
“Sandra!”
“What?”
Processing query: name. Assessing threat level: minimal. Accessing archived data. Formulating response.
She leaned over his shoulder. “What the…”
There was a great whirring and clicking from the observation table. Joel raised his hands as though to prove he had nothing to do with this behavior. Programmer and neurologist alike gaped as the mechanical head faced them.
“My name is Pinocchio and I’m a real boy.”
by submission | Sep 29, 2013 | Story |
Author : Ryan C.
Thoughts of a lifelong priest upon opening his eyes after closing them for the last time.
So this is it?
A lifetime of kneeling and praying and fasting and flagellating to atone for my sins.
A lifetime of sins I could never hope to atone for and this is it?
It turns out the afterlife isn’t a paradise with golden streets and it’s not a solid inky blackness or a brilliant blinding white.
No.
It turns out the afterlife is a four meter tall expanse of dull maroon with no one to speak to.
Funny how that works huh?
