Tag Archives: #amwritingscifi

The Child Who Knew Everything

dani-11-14-16“I still say that particle theory is more viable because it predicts four dimensions, 3 spatial plus time.”

“Sid, be reasonable. Particle theory doesn’t predict the existence of a graviton but string theory does.”

Norman and Sid are old friends. They are also retired physicists and when they get together, they naturally debate over their passion.

“Ba, nu, gampa, gleg, *giggle*.”

I’ll say your granddaughter is really talkative today, Norman.”

Both men laughed.

“I wanted to give her parents a ‘date night’ and said I’d watch little Sophie.”

“She’s quite the cutie. How old now?”

“Just over sixteen months. The apple of my eye, Sid. But back to our conversation.”

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The Final Destination of Flight 33

flight 33

From the Twilight Zone Episode “The Odyssey of Flight 33”.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We have arrived at the gate but I ask that you all remain in your seats.”

Captain William Farver couldn’t actually hear the response of the passengers aboard Trans-Ocean Flight 33, but he could imagine a great deal of disappointment and grumbling. He didn’t blame them. They’d been through a lot together on their odyssey from London to New York.

He had to continue with the announcement as though he wasn’t as frustrated and terrified as everyone else. “Authorities from the Federal Aviation Administration and the FBI will be boarding the aircraft momentarily. I urge you to remain calm and we will try to resolve this situation as soon as possible.”

As soon as Farver clicked off the mike, his First Officer Joe Craig piped up. “Resolve what, Skipper? You know what’s happened to us and where and when we are.”

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If Only Time Would End

time machine

Actor Rod Taylor as H. George Wells in “The Time Machine” (1960)

Truth be told, Gerald Fisher had been working on his time machine off and on for decades, but nearly four years ago, he received a strong boost in his motivation to make it functional. Fisher started the work almost as a lark, just proof-of-concept. He had no real interest in visiting the future or changing the past.

But times change and now he was desperate to change history before it was too late, and events were right on the cusp of being too late. The world was about to come to an end.

Ph.D in Physics from Stanford at eighteen, Fisher had established and sold nearly a dozen companies in the last decade alone. He held a lengthy list of patents on his revolutionary devices and it was mild praise indeed to refer to him merely as a genius.

He had been lured into a career in physics not by the possible but by the impossible. He’d read H.G. Wells’ novel “The Time Machine” when he was eight and couldn’t stop imagining the possibilities. As he matured, he realized the full implications of time travel and determined never to do anything that might endanger the time line, however, he never lost the desire to prove that he could invent the first functioning time machine.

Gerald never imagined a world so terrible that he’d consider changing history to prevent it, that is, not until four years ago, and especially over the past few months now that America and Russia were seriously rattling their nuclear sabers at each other.

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Leaving Mother

planet

Image: hongkiat.com

“But we don’t want to leave you, Mother. We love you.”

Shawna was the leader of the people from the NorAm Contingent. There were four Contingents on the generation ship, NorAm, SouAm, EurAsia, MedAfrica. When their ancestors left a dying Earth some two-hundred years ago, it was with the single hope that their descendents would perpetuate a thriving humanity on the second planet orbiting Proxima B.

It had worked. They had arrived. Thousands upon thousands of human beings were ready to occupy an Earth-like planet, this time turning into a garden instead of a cesspool. The lessons taught by their parents and their parents’ parents about living with a planet and not exploiting it were well learned.

The problem is, no one wanted to go.

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No One’s Luck Could Be This Bad

space

Image: JPL NASA

From the Flight Log of Freighter Pilot Camdon Rod

I used to think I was the luckiest freighter pilot this side of hyperspace, but obviously my luck’s running out.

Oh, I’m Camdon Rod, owner and operator of the jump freighter Ginger’s Regret. My partner in this operation is the real Ginger, the woman the ship is named after. There’s just one catch: Ginger’s a ghost.

I didn’t used to think she was, not really. I always figured she was some sort of one-in-a-million aberration of hyperspace physics and the quantum wonkiness of how jump drives work. After all, Ginger was “killed” over fifty years ago when she was EVA while the Regret’s jump drive activated due to an accidental power surge.

But we found out recently that hyperspace is where souls go when sentient beings die, at least I think that’s what we found out.

Ginger and I don’t talk about it. What’s there to say? She’s a soul or spirit or something that can’t get into hyperspace with the rest of them. So I guess that makes her a ghost.

That’s not what I’ve been complaining about though. You know, about my luck running out?

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Temptations of the Prince

galaxies

Image: NASA.org

Immediately after Dov was revealed to be the heir apparent to the vast Stellar Empire, he was transported to the dwarf planet Arideen by his eternal adversary Serphentine. He was left there for a period of forty standard days with no rations and no shelter in order to contemplate all of the ramifications of his state.

At the end of that time, Serphentine arrived to confront the weakened Prince Dov. The brilliant illumination offered by the dense galactic cluster provided the dramatic backdrop to their encounter on the barren plains of a rock that was just barely larger than an asteroid.

“I am well aware of your abilities young Prince and equally aware of your hunger and thirst. If you really are heir to the Great King, prove it. Command the sand and rock to be your food and drink. I enjoy a good magic show.”

Dov was sitting on the very rocks Serphentine intended to see turned into a banquet. He looked up from his humble position at the tall, dark, and exquisitely handsome noble standing over him.

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New Brain

brain

Image: Fox News

Alec Reed was at the end of his rope. At age 62, he could no longer keep up with the younger software developers at Intellidrive and accusations of “ageism” or not, if his performance fell too much further, he’d be out of a job.

Before the divorce, he’d have just put in for early retirement, but when Neena left him, she took just about everything including a non-trival percentage of their savings. Now he needed to keep working another five years at least if he hoped to maintain even a halfway decent portion of his current standard of living once he decided to retire.

Getting older was a curse in an industry of the young. Alec’s thinking, reasoning abilities, problem solving skills were all lagging behind the twenty-somethings that were being hired at a startling rate by Intellidrive.

Seniority and a generally good work record kept Alec at the company for the past twenty-two years, but his new, young supervisor wasn’t letting him rest on his so-called laurels. Alec was supposed to produce on par with his junior peers and if he couldn’t, he was easily replaced.

That’s why he had stolen his son’s supply of New Brain.

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The Homecoming

planet

Image: hongkiat.com

Thanks to the revolutionary Roddenberry-Cochrane drive, Ellis Vanderberg was able to travel to Proxima Centauri A, the closest Earth-like planet to our own, perform a year-long survey of its one continent and the six largest islands, and then return home in a little over four decades.

Of course, due to the time dilation effect, much more time passed on Earth than Vanderberg experienced during his trip. That’s the good and bad thing about traveling in interstellar space at a significant faction of the speed of light.

Vanderberg was twenty-two years old when he was launched into space. The only son of Billionaire Charles Vanderberg, he had volunteered to test the space craft and experimental drive his father’s corporation invented. The government first insisted that the journey not be made, but the Vanderberg fortune and influence insisted otherwise. Then they insisted that a team of trained astronauts and mission specialists be sent instead of Ellis, but again, the Vanderberg fortune and influence won out.

In the end, Charles Vanderberg got his way and Ellis Vanderberg got the singular honor of being the first person to travel to another planet outside of our Solar System.

Now he’s back. Ellis knew that much more time had passed for the people of Earth than he experienced. Subjectively, he was a man in his mid-sixties, but he expected his parents, his sisters, his friends, everyone he’d ever known would be dead.

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Tuning In

flash of lightFrom the Flight Log of Freighter Pilot Camdon Rod

Just completed the jump into the Brinelli system and my head’s ringing like the Cathedral bells at the Lovibian convent on New Mederine. This is the fifth jump where I’ve heard ringing and come away with a splitting headache, and it gets worse with each jump.

Yeah, you know me. My name’s Camdon Rod and I’m the owner/operator of the jump freighter Ginger’s Regret. Right now, I’m regretting taking the job to haul replacement Calidantian micro-spanners to Brinelli for their underwater mining operations. Sure, the price is right since they can’t run the hydro-drills without these parts, but what the heck is happening to my head after each hyperjump?

This has never happened to me before. As you know, any ship equipped with a jump drive plots a virtual point-to-point connection between origin and destination points through hyperspace. The trip is instantaneous from a lifeform’s point of view and it’s impossible to perceive anything about the jump whatsoever, or at least it’s supposed to be.

No time to get careless. A distracted pilot is a dead pilot.

“Brinelli central control to Ginger’s Regret. Acknowledge completed jump.”

There’s Brinelli’s standard acknowledge call. “This is Ginger’s Regret acknowledging jump. Cutting in space norm engines. Estimate landing Ispanzu Port 1450 hours local time.”

“Confirming Regret’s estimated arrival at Ispanzu at 1450 hours local. Welcome to Brinelli. Enjoy your stay.”

“Acknowledge and thanks. Regret out.”

I’m just about gritting my teeth against the pain in my skull but I think it’s starting to ease off some. And so it goes.

“Need some pain killers, lover?”

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The Undying

gunfight

From the film “Gunfight at Red Sands” (1963)

In the old west, there was always some punk kid who thought he could outdraw the local gunslinger and who didn’t live to regret it. That’s because the gunslinger was really good at what he did and punk kids are idiots.

I’m not a gunslinger anymore, but I’ve still got young punks lining up to try to take me out. The outcome is always the same.

My name is Samuel Kane. Well, that’s not the name I was born with, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve lost count of the number of names I’ve lived under over the years. I speak dozens of languages, many of them dead, have seen empires rise and fall, seen commoners become Kings, and Kings fall to ruins at the hands of barbarian hordes.

In other words, I’ve lived too long to be impressed by much anymore.

It’s that damn wizard’s fault. Actually it’s my fault, but I blame the wizard for actually giving me what I asked for. He should have just killed me. Instead he did the opposite, which is much worse.

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