by submission | Nov 28, 2010 | Story
Author : N. Thomas Parshall
The world blinked and Martin found himself surrounded by a wide plaza filled with people in odd clothing. Time travel to the future worked and Martin had discovered it.
Seventeen years of work, and now I’m standing one-hundred years in my own future, he thought. And in fifteen minutes retrieval will take me home.
He glanced around himself, and found a small plaque his feet in an odd alphabet. No doubt he had arrived at some form of landmark.
Martin set off to explore his future world. He tried to ask for directions from a young woman walking with her daughter.
“Non caba, miso.” was all he received in reply.
To every question he asked of anyone, it was always the same. “Non caba, miso”, or occasionally, “Que oka, miso”.
Time was running out.
On impulse, he pulled a marker he had carried through time with him and scrawled “Martin was Here!” on the face of a building.
The world blinked.
* * *
The Proctor asked mommy lots of questions about the strange man.
Did we know what the strange man had written on the wall?
Did we know what the strange man was saying?
Did we see who moved the statue.
Did we see where the strange man came from?
The last one mommy could answer, but the Proctor didn’t believe her.
Before we went home, I asked mommy to read me the words at the bottom of the statue the ‘bot‘s were moving back.
“This man (name unknown) discovered the unstable radiation that allows PERMA-SLEEP. Legend says that every One-Thousand years he will awaken for a few moments.”
* * *
The world blinked and Martin found himself surrounded by a wide plaza filled with people in odd clothing.
by submission | Nov 27, 2010 | Story
Author : Martin Berka
Nothing about hell could be pleasant, and that included departure, but joy matched pain. Slowly, my consciousness was drifting through the wires. A thought or a memory would drift away from the others, accelerating, then slowing. More would follow, and thus my tired, rippling self moved along. It seemed to take forever, but hell does strange things to your sense of time.
The body, a blank synthetic, was waiting for me. The brain was a mass of undefined elements, slowly molding into cells and connections as my file – my mind – moved in, piece by conscious piece. It looked like the file was being accepted as-is. Would they modify a soul directly?
I’m solid again. Machinery rolls away behind me with a quiet squeal, but since I’m seated in a straightjacket-chair, it doesn’t look like I’m free just yet.
Aside from a short, unassuming man seated in an armchair, the room is empty. I’ve seen his type before – scientist, minister, and bureaucrat, all rolled into one. Clearly, things have changed less than I hoped.
“Congratulations on finishing your sentence,” he says, and he means it.
“What happens now?” I feel pressured, but given the mod, it makes sense.
“You’ve suffered for all wrongs done during your life, so we are transferring you to the heaven system. However, we do have one question. You were in hell for over a century, and the experience is much longer on the inside. That makes you one of the first entrants, and we have no record of what led to your sentence.”
I think back several lifetimes, while keeping up the tension. “I was a neural engineer. When the war started, I joined the Luddites. I felt it’d all gone too far… Anyway, I killed, and I had no regrets back then. Most of my unit was killed, and I surrendered.”
The three-in-one isn’t surprised, barely even reacts. “And the Trial Unit was beta-testing the hell system. Thanks, that’s all we need.”
“Then enlighten me in return. How the … what do Techies want with a religious afterlife system?”
His answer sounds prepared. “The traditionalists lost, though it took nearly a decade. But long before, the rational leadership spotted a problem – once the idea of a god was crippled, people would need a replacement to satisfy them. What is conquered, must also be administered. The developers found a way to move minds without interruption of awareness, and could thus sway the religionists; souls were being properly rewarded and punished. And now, afterlife was a guarantee, an antidote for everyone’s doubts.”
“I spent my last years fighting you, yet you’d send me to heaven?”
“You’ve paid in full, and you won’t be any more of a threat there than you were in hell.”
I look for a snappy comeback, fail, and relax the added, voluntary sphincter muscle. Acid floods out of the tiny sack in my brain, and the best part is that I barely feel it.
It’s supposed to be impossible to hack a mind file – there are incredible protections on basic memory, processing, and senses. However, a mind has a unique physical structure that meshes with everything else. It would take a neural engineer to spend a virtual century breaking into and tweaking his structure file from the inside.
I wasn’t a fervent believer during that distant life. I had doubts. But choosing between a godless heaven, and the heaven-less god that they all fear so much, I’ll risk the second, while the choice is still my own.
by submission | Nov 26, 2010 | Story
Author : J.D. Rice
I twist my ankle as I land in the ditch. Mud spatters over my uniform, filthy water pooling in my socks. I ignore the stench, the reek of the jungle, the pain stabbing up my leg, and press on. If I can only make it another ten minutes, I’ll be free. Ten minutes… That’s wishful thinking.
I need to get out of this muck. It slows me down, sucking at my feet, making my ankle burn with agony. To my left the slope is muddy, but not high. It’ll have to do. On my hands and knees, I pull myself out of the ditch and crawl back into the brush of the jungle. Out of breath, I turn over onto my back and stare at the canopy of leaves high above me. Beautiful, but all too deadly.
Then I hear the guttery screech of my pursuer.
Exhausted, I force myself to my feet. My weapons are gone. The energy grenades I used; The rifle I lost in the deepness of the woods. My team? Dead. I watched the Quorrics, those off-world monstrosities, slit Johannes’ throat. Smith? Wilcox? Gervais? All charred to a crisp by the plasma weapons. I can’t stand alone, unarmed and injured, against these alien hunters. My only choice is to run. I glance at the chronometer on my wrist. Seven minutes.
Half running, half limping through the jungle, I hear my pursuer rushing up behind. Low vines and branches hem me in, obstructing my path. As I hear the creature gaining on me, I know: I will never make it seven minutes. I will die today.
I fall. With my face in the mud, I hear the Quorric saunter up behind me. He lets out a few unintelligible croaks, which passes for laughter on his world. He seems to be waiting for me to roll over. Mustering what’s left of my dignity, I turn onto my back, looking up at the disgusting creature. My eyes are watery from some combination of the mud, humidity, and my own desperation. I cannot make out its features, for which I am thankful. They are disgusting creatures.
And now the moment has come, with only five minutes remaining. Five minutes more, and I wouldn’t have to face death in the mud and the muck. It’s just not my day.
He could use the plasma rifle hangin from his side, but that’s not good enough for him. The blade jutting from his arm, that gives him more pleasure. Pleasure in the tactile nature of the kill. Pleasure in humiliating me. The assault on my reputation hurts more than the blade passing through my chest. It strikes not through the heart, but through a lung. A few more croaks from the Quorric. He finds this hilarious.
Running out of air and unable to speak, I curse the creature in my mind. Then my body starts to go numb. Vision fades. Muscles still. Darkness creeps into all five senses, into my very soul. This is the worst part.
I awake in the infirmary. The cellular regenerator has just finished reconstructing my internal organs. My eyes watch as the skin of my chest slowly reseals itself. I won’t even have a scar, come morning. Johannes is already up and about. As my lungs fill with air, I choke out just one question.
“What was the score?”
Johannes sighs heavily. “20-18,” he says, “Quorric victory.”
I swear loudly.
“We’ll get them next season.”
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.”
by Stephen R. Smith | Nov 24, 2010 | Story
Author : Steve Smith, Staff Writer
Nicola pushed the throttle further forward, feeling the massive airframe surge as he tripled the speed of sound.
“There are now eight aircraft in pursuit, finger four formations, over under,” Sev, the aircraft’s control system, broke the silence, “speed increased to overtake.”
Nic flexed his fingers away from the sticks, the maglocks holding his palms firmly to the controls. “Ok Sev, establish passive lock on the leaders and prep countermeasures if they go hot.”
“Confirmed.” The onboard flight system would do on instinct what he was instructing, but she maintained the illusion that he was in control out of respect. “I should remind you that we have only three remaining air to air missiles, and at this speed guns are unavailable.
“Understood.” Nic checked the current flight line on the HUD. “We can’t make target at this speed, we’ll need to shake ’em off, and quick.” Outside the cockpit, the horizon curved perceptibly with the altitude. “Listen for radio chatter. Tell me what you can about who’s flying what back there.”
There was a moment of silence while Sev recorded radio signals and cracked the encryption. “I have identified six male and two female pilots. Point on the lower formation has the lead. Instructions are to overtake and shoot us down.”
“Keep a passive lock on the leader and the women.” Nic eased up on the throttle. “With no lead, the boys hopefully will try to save their planes. The women never let it go. When they get close enough, Kulbit, then take them out.”
“May I remind you that a Kulbit maneuver at this speed will render you unconscious?”
“You can tell me all about it later.”
The aircraft began to throttle back. “Understood.”
Nic watched the HUD, heart racing as their pursuers closed the distance with ever increasing speed, weapons lock indicators flashed while Sev torqued the plane to stay just out of their grasp.
As the first of the locks stabilized, the gimbaled exhaust of their fighter turned abruptly skyward, pushing the tail of the aircraft violently, first towards the ground and then forcing it to aggressively overtake the nose. Nic felt his flight-suit tighten below his chest, head pounding, blood rushing in his ears. His vision irised in and out as above his head the sky was replaced with the nose cones of a flock of metal birds, then the ground. There was a brief flash of a pilot craning his neck backwards as canopy shot past within meters of canopy. The fighter continued pushing over, the jets almost at right angles to the stabilizers. There was a quick view of the exhaust of their former pursuers then the tail snapped around again to return their plane to its original position in the sky. The gimbaled nozzles straightened and the engines returned to full throttle, afterburners engaged. Nic heard chatter in his headset, vision nearly completely black, Sev closing the distance to the now fleeing pack ahead and letting loose the three remaining missiles as the planes broke formation. Before they could regain offensive positions, the three chosen targets were tumbling from the sky in bright smears of burning fuel and shattered metal. The remaining planes turned tail and ran, leaving Sev and Nic alone in the sky.
“Nicola?” Sev undulated the pressure in his flight suit until he groaned, eyes slowly opening against the bright blue sky.
“Welcome back. We have a clean inbound vector to target, and some time to make up.”
Nic pushed the throttles all the way forward, grinning despite his aching head as the seat back pushed against his spine.
“I killed three inferior AI’s today Nic.”
“I know Sev. Sorry I couldn’t keep my eyes open to watch,” Nic powered down the HUD, “why don’t you tell me about it.”
