Hope in Science Fiction, and More

The cover of In Makr’s Shadow  is a dark representation of what confronts my heroes, who are mostly young adults seeing this world’s reality for the first time. In any dystopia, reality appears forbidding and hopeless.  The idea is to make a statement at the end–be it hope, regret, submission or rebellion. I chose “hope,” so all is not lost

In Makr’s Shadow. The enemy is not human. So, the destruction and deaths occur not only because of man indirectly but because of a machine–in this case an evolving artificial intelligence. The world is a realistic extrapolation of society today with one exception. We have placed an evolving artificial intelligence to save the world from us. And the sentient entity is doing just that by taking charge.

Ninety percent of the population see their world as the status quo, and see no reason to change it. Ten percent see reality and know the rest of humanity is content living in a fantasy world. Outside of Makr’s direct control, these people cope with reality the best way they can–by accepting, coexisting, worshipping and resisting it.

The Shadow People, about one percent of the population, form the only resistance, centered around Makr’s main server.  Battling Makr’s evolving machine creations seems a losing battle, but The Shadows People must continue the fight, hoping to win back control of their planet. Makr sees them as a minor annoyance but must deal with them before they affect His ability to control the rest of humanity–even if it means killing all of them.

The ongoing war is helpful in questioning other technologies, and in extrapolating the soft sciences that include psychology, sociology, anthropology and religion. More importantly, the war is a backdrop to see how the protagonists in my novel behave.

This blog may be a precursor to some blogs that have followed. Still good information I think in getting readers interested in reading between the lines of my book. There’s plenty, beginning with title. What do you think?

By the way, I’ve dropped the price a buck, and if you think you’d like to review it, I’ll send you a free copy. Heck, just for sending me an email, I’ll send you a free copy.

It’s never been my way to follow a tradition without trying to create one of my own. I am a writer. To truly be one, I need to have an audience. It’s easier on stage because there you are in front me and I feel your feedback. But that’s acting. I’ve been told I can “charm the nuts off a squirrel.” I say “Enough charm! Dig deep! Discover our ‘Twilight Zone’.”

Blogs are one thing, novels are another. I may not play by all the “rules,” but my heart is pure. I want to share ideas and explore who we think we are and what we really are.

Invading Personal Space – A Capital Crime

Before I say anything: here’s the Coupon Code: NE22C for a free download of my science fiction novel, Harry’s Reality, in any digital form, from my Smashwords’ page. For limited time only. Feel free to buy from your e-reader library or another vendor.

Ever notice while watching television how extremely close people must be to talk to each other? Try it some time. It’s stifling. Breaks your personal space limit. You’ll feel a definite urge to push the other person away–that is unless you are intimate with them or at least family. It was weird to me as an actor and is still weird to me now.

What if we expand that personal space and make it against the law for someone to contact you without being screened. People do influence us. Right. Now, being anywhere near someone, even by accident, sends you running in the other direction because it’s against the law to have contact that isn’t pre-approved or matched.

The basis for Harry’s Reality began with people being so offended when people invaded their personal space that it finally became a capital crime. To socialize without permission was against the law. Where did that idea come from. Mere extrapolation. Taking one idea as far as you can. Usually to the point it only makes sense to the society. Here’s the original: we are so tied to our gadgets it seems there is no room for people. But you could start earlier with any idea proposing purposeful human exclusion.

Thus, you have my contemporary extrapolation that society may become to uncomfortable with itself, isolate itself, and rely more and more on machines. Right now those devices are fun and very useful. Well, you know what they say? Too much of any good thing… By the way, my last post was in part the germ of the novel, Harry’s escape from Inside, without knowing what awaited him. Man has this tendency to risk his life to explore the unknown–for what? We all have our reasons.

It’s been a reflective week. A lot of thinking, running chapters in my head. Next month is looking up. I’ll have an opportunity to see, if not explore, a bit of the area where my next novel will take place–central and south america. Both novels will be the first of a series, but I take a while to develop them as best I can so their characters are well drawn for future books.

I suppose I’m crossing an unwritten science fiction law here in that my books will be a combination of sci-fi and superstition/adventure/suspense as opposed to sci-fi/fantasy. If you like Harry’s Reality, you’ll like the next book, too. What seems to be mis-identity and misadventure, propels a “good-time Charley” to take life seriously and “man up.”

The last killer out fused the entrance with a blaster, melting the façade and door into molten rock and red-hot, glistening steel jelly. Must be to keep in any wounded or barely alive Bios, but why? Harry wondered. The cybertank will destroy anything that lives when the entire structure is reduced to rubble. So why do it now? Why waste resources tormenting the intended victims? Why?

Physically stronger and more resolute now, Desiree clung tightly to Harry. Dar acknowledged in her heart that this was what the other woman had wanted all along. She’d been quietly keeping alert, and now suddenly searched through her purse. How could she have forgotten she had it? Not like it would have made a difference anyway. Ironically, she had expected to use the mini-blaster to persuade a few Outsiders to give her the information she needed to do her job. Forget you, Makr! I’ll not do your dirty work anymore.

Harry saw Dar reaching in her purse. He thought she, too, might be losing control.

“This is no time for make-up, darling…er…Dar,” Harry said. What he saw looked like a make-up case.

She put it back inside her purse. “I guess I’m just a little jittery,” she said, snapping her purse shut.

“We’re all frightened,” he said gently. “We’ve survived this long…who knows, we might make it after all.”

Although only seconds had passed, hiding and waiting in the shadows seemed infinitely longer. It was getting hard to breathe without breathing too hard, too fast, and too loud. Harry knew something about hyperventilating. They had to wait until the way was clear—totally clear of Cyber.

Whirrrrrrr!! Whoooosh!! “Warning! Warning!” The women gasped. Harry knew that sound.

A street cleaner cybert whisked by on a magnetic layer, dissolving and vaporizing dust and dirt. Road kill and Touchable remains, thought Dar. All the same now!

“Streets must be clear. Clear the streets for cleaning. Remove all essential obstacles.” The cleaning cybert’s urgent voice meant it had noticed their presence, but its capacity for thinking was not as well developed as most menial labor cyberts. It would suck and dissolve what human pieces still remained, however small. To the cybert, they were merely obstacles, obstructions to cleaning. The small cybert sprayed a cleaning solution to dissolve a pool of blood, sucked it inside and exhaled a harmless white vapor.

Remember the free coupon to download “Harry’s Reality” in any digital form from Smashwords.com. What begins as a “military” science fiction novel ends far from it. I think you’ll enjoy it.

Monday’s Reality

“Hello,” Desiree’s whisper broke the silence and resonated loudly in a room where people never actually talked with one another.

She heard a gasp or two, and with her night vision contact lenses spied some heads moving to get a look. This Insider even perspires more than the others.

“Hello, I said,” Desiree insisted. “I’m talking to you silly.”

Harry flinched.

Gotcha!

“Yes, you!”

Silently, Harry turned stiffly in his chair, ever so slightly—only a few inches away from the voice, pretending not to hear, trying hard to be inconspicuous. Squinting in the darkness, he tried to see what he both feared and needed: Bio contact.

He listened for the voice again, but his nervous anticipation made his sweat stream uncontrollably. He felt a spring of moisture roll down his side, despite his heavy, neutralizing antiperspirant.

Harry couldn’t help noticing the inviting and delicate fragrance of flowers coming from the same direction as the voice he had heard moments ago and he felt anxious once again. It seemed the scent was created for him alone. The olfactory assault makes the situation even more dangerous.

Desiree saw her prey was frozen with fear. Some hero you are, she thought.

He could barely see, his eyes glazing over with trepidation and indecision. Desiree took advantage of the opportunity to place her ticket, number side down, with a message scribbled on the back, on the very table in front of him. He flinched helplessly a second time as he saw her invading his personal space. He had not been this close to another Bio before—not that he could remember or thought-blink—for years.

Blinking himself back to reality, his jaw dropped as she thrust the note in front of him. I won’t look, I won’t read it! he thought. His body stiffened.

Thought-blinking isn’t working. He’s too nervous. Should have done it sooner, he thought. If he ever needed it, he needed it now!

Is this Makr’s doing? agonized Harry. If so, all is lost anyway. Always the cynical Harry.

In light of this revelation, he reasoned he would lose nothing if he read the note now. Yet he continued debating with himself about reading it. Mindful of this hesitation, Desiree persisted in her physical seduction by pulling her shoulders back—thereby extending her breasts, tilting her head, raising her right eyebrow, and smiling. She blew him a kiss. Who could resist that?

Harry wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and tried to dry his palms with the saturated cloth without much luck.

A drink! He needed a drink to calm his nerves. More noticeably agitated, he fumbled holding his drink, spilling some of it on the counter. Finally, with a barely audible screech that sounded like thunder in his mind, he inched his chair back, ready to bolt.

Damn! He couldn’t breathe. Need more air! More air! Makr, where the Hell are you?

Harry was on the verge of hyperventilating while the less than vigilant Desiree added more bait to her trap to captivate her prey. She smiled. It was the self-assured smile that finally melted his resistance.

Harry imagined he was about to open a door to Hell, but he reached for it anyway. He knew better, but he reached…grasped at the unknown. He spied a look at the note. It said, “I choose you.” Interesting thought, chosen but not matched. But he could do it. He’d have to overcome the unnatural fear that had been bred into him; however, he was determined to try.

He could pass on a match tonight and justify it later. He could say he was sick, which was true; his stomach was churning and bubbling, and he was certainly nauseous. One more personal invasion and he knew he’d lose his lunch. The moment he started up from his seat a Cyber waiter scurried to his table and wiped away the liquid Harry had spilled without knowing it.

Harry died…or thought he had.

His heart stopped. Not really, perhaps only for a fraction of a second as it skipped a beat, but he was sure his end was near.

Whose reality is it this time? This time it would be his, he resolved.

As he left Cyber Match Central to be with Desiree, and with no attempt at getting Cyber approval, Harry readied himself for one hell of a ride.

Taken.

On a dreary Monday’s reality, there’s very little anyone can do about it. Listen to music, doodle, diddle, putter around the house. I’m flowing in and out with the rain. I know it’s good for the earth, but I hate the cold wet of fall. I remember a reality of ups and downs.

Ever hear a song by Melanie called “Animal Crackers.” She sings in her scratchy, little girl voice, “I don’t eat animals and they don’t eat me.” Of course, it was the ’70s or late ’60s. I remember liking her music, but I discovered it while in the Marine Corps so you know I wasn’t living the psychedelic reality. Ironically, neither was Melanie at the time. It was all hype. I saw her short time later in an intimate concert. In a very short time, she had become an extraordinary mother with three children, and a great singer or she was all of these all along. So, she wasn’t up and down at all. A dreary Monday with rain. For a real pick me up she would sing, “Psychotherapy.” That was always good on a Monday.

My Monday offering is a free copy of Harry’s Reality to those reading this who have shown the patience to read to the end. I hope someone will enjoy it and feel compelled to write a positive review on Smashwords or whatever vendor you decide, or even Goodreads. Here’s the Coupon Code: NE22C to use on my Smashwords page. It’s good for a limited time only. Maybe a month. I’d like to get a buzz going. Thanks for reading.