Chris’s Comments (group member since Nov 04, 2015)

Chris’s comments from the Science Fiction Microstory Contest group.

Congrats Jack!

Jot wrote: "It turns out I had 6 tears in my eye to retina, causing it to detach. Had open eye surgery and am face down for 2 weeks to allow the gas bubble in my eye to avoid fluid from the eye building up bet..."

Wow! Sorry to hear that, Jot! Hope you make a swift and full recovery!

Tom wrote: ""Running" by Chris Nance

A very effective suspense story envisioning a brother and sister running for their lives through a post-apocalyptic landscape in which robots are, for reasons unknown, hun..."

Tom, thanks so much for your critique. You're very thorough and provided some very valuable feedback. I agree that a first personal narrative may be more effective in this sort of story. Thanks again!

Thanks so much, Paula. I really appreciate your perspective and critique. I guess I tend to write dialogue driven stories, so they can be dialogue heavy. I'm working on that, lol. I also agree that "The birds," observation in the story was a favorite, and I didn't even appreciate its impact until after I had written it. Anyhow, thanks again!

Tom wrote: "New story posted, according to Chris's guidelines."

Sorry about the confusion, Tom. I guess this month's theme sounded clear in my head, lol.

And yours was a really great story, btw! What a great premise!

I corrected one word in the theme this month (from the to your), so hopefully that should clear up any confusion. Sorry about that.

Mine's up. Hope you like it!

Running


The Supremacy Law - A robot must, at all costs, safeguard the well-being of mankind. This is a robot’s prime directive.


Evelin and Marcus had hardly stopped, dodging through the ruins of what had been, only weeks earlier, a suburb of Chicago, now torn apart by an electronic army bent on scouring the planet for any remaining humans. “How could things have turned so quickly?” Marcus whispered to himself, scanning the park ahead and finding it clear. He turned to his sister, “Not far now, another day, and we’re clear of the city. There’ll be fewer patrols out in the countryside.”

“I hope,” Evelin peered over his shoulder into the morning haze. “Looks clear,” she remarked, pushing past him only to be pulled back almost right away.

He motioned for complete silence, pressing her back into the shadows as a team of bots entered the park on the far side. The siblings pulled their face shields down, hoping their makeshift cooling suits would mask any body heat from the robots’ infrared scans. Crafted from a pair of deep-sea diving suits, circulating refrigerants, thermostats and thermometers kept their external temperatures cool, specifically level with the ambient temperature of the surrounding environment. It still wouldn’t protect them from visual detection, so they stayed motionless in the deep shadows.

“MX-31,” Evelin whispered some regret, discovering the same model as their family’s housekeeping robot amongst the mixed patrol. Marcus frantically signaled her quiet once more.

Thankfully, a series of clicks exchanged between the machines, and they turned a far corner, heading in unison down another street.

Marcus and Evelin both released a tense exhalation. “That was close,” he said, lifting his visor away to get a better view. It tended to fog up when down for too long. “Should be safe now.”

The city was dead-quiet. “Do you think they’ll ever come back?” Evelin asked.

“The robots?”

“The birds,” she said.

“I don’t know,” Marcus sighed. “I think eliminating the other animals was part of their plan. The Laws never protected any of them.” The two crept into a nearby alleyway. “And it makes tracking humans much easier for the bots without any other heat signatures. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the other animals have been eliminated, at least in the cities and towns anyways.”

“Oh,” Evelin sulked, then wondered, “What about the rest of the people?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen anyone else for days.”

“Do you think they’re dead too?”

“I don’t know.” Always cautious, he led them across a narrow street, between two burned out vans. “I hope not.” She started to sob, so Marcus guided her through the broken glass of a nearby storefront, covering her mouth. “I mean, probably not,” he tried to console. “The three Laws of Robotics specifically prevent a robot from harming a human. And Zeroth’s Law protects humanity as a whole. Killing us would totally violate their programing. It’s that Fifth Law. Everything changed when it went active. Those damn geniuses tried to create a utopia but destroyed us instead.”

Her tears began to ebb, though she still despaired. “How did all this even happen?”

“I’m…I’m not sure. The new law was supposed safeguard humanity.”

“From whom?”

He’d considered the question quite a bit in recent days. “I think, from itself.” Marcus brushed a tear away from her face. “Humans have never been all that nice to each other.”

Without warning, the block wall to their hiding place was torn away and a half dozen robots of various sizes rushed at them. Evelin’s screams were countered only by the mechanical words, “You will not be harmed. We are here to protect you,” repeated over and over again in unison. An electric jolt, and the pair were suddenly paralyzed, muscles seizing up before going limp altogether. Minds filled with terror and eyes wide, the nearest bot caressed Evelin’s cheek, almost lovingly. “You will not be harmed,” it repeated. “We are here to protect you.”

Totally aware, they were loaded into individual pods, and an immobilized Marcus and Evelin blasted off, rocketing toward the center of the city. They touched down inside a walled facility neither of them could believe – thousands of towering stacks, with millions of people stored away like inventory in a stockyard. Inner panic fully took hold when their pods began to flood, hibernation fluid drowning their lungs. Mercifully, it numbed their consciousnesses just as they were plugged into their receptacles for indefinite preservation.

Justin wrote: "Quick question. Am I supposed to include the 4th law (Zeroth Law) that you've provided into my story or create my own 4th law? It is unclear to me. Thanks!"

I would say, since a 4th law is already a thing provided by Asimov, that a 5th law is the way to go.

Theme: The Laws of Robotics

Required Elements: Introduction of a New Law. You must include whether your law is a spectacular success or failure.

Asimov's Laws:

1) A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2) A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
4) The Zeroth Law - Introduced later by Isaac Asimov. A robot may not harm humanity, or, by inaction, allow humanity to come to harm.

Theme: The Laws of Robotics

Required Elements: Introduction of a New Law. You must include whether your law is a spectacular success or failure.

Asimov's Laws:

1) A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2) A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
4) The Zeroth Law - Introduced later by Isaac Asimov. A robot may not harm humanity, or, by inaction, allow humanity to come to harm.

Theme: The Laws of Robotics

Required Elements: Introduction of a New Law. You must include whether your law is a spectacular success or failure.

Asimov's Laws:

1) A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2) A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
4) The Zeroth Law - Introduced later by Isaac Asimov. A robot may not harm humanity, or, by inaction, allow humanity to come to harm.

Justin wrote: "Yes, I need donuts now!! A great story Chris! Funny how ones we don't like ourselves are popular with others!"

That seems to be the way it goes for me, anyway. Thanks everyone! I'll get the prompt posted shortly.

Whoa, crazy! I really was not happy at all with my story this month, but am glad you guys appreciated it! :)

Mines up...but we'll not talk about this months entry, lol. Just limited time. At least I finished something though.

A Voraxan and His Voracities

“They’re late.”

“Honestly, there’s very little incentive for them to show up at all,” my assistant, Marie, rightly noted.

“They’ll be here,” I brooded, unsure myself. In this trade dispute, our intelligence was dubious, and our leverage, uncertain. “I have to admit, when President Valenzuela appointed me to this interplanetary trade position, I had no idea it would be so…different.”

“That’s because the Galactic Commerce Guild is still fairly uncharted territory. Your past international negotiations are ancient history,” she said. “There aren’t any countries anymore, just Earth and the planets of the Guild.”

“Yeah, the Guild,” I sighed. “You know, they have a saying that goes, ‘Never come between a Voraxan and his voracities.’”

“What does that even mean?”

I smirked back at her, “If you looked closer at what we’ve been selling them, you’d have some clue, and a new deal should shut down any black market.”

“They’re here.”

A half dozen new vessels instantly blocked the stars. Hulking and bulbous, their hulls were advanced, smooth and polished to a pearlescent sheen, a drastic departure from our cruder, more primitive Earth ships. A rotund form materialized on the emitter, touching thick fingertips to his forehead, the typical salutation for the Voraxans. “Earther Chen,” he greeted.

“Commissioner Hallux.” I returned the gesture. “Our diplomatic suite is ready to receive you.”

“Frankly, I’m not even sure why we’re here,” Hallux replied. “Vorax is quite satisfied with our current arrangement.”

“But Earth is not,” I replied. “A two hundred percent tariff on Earthen wheat. Six hundred percent on isoglucose, hardly a fair exchange for the trifle of refractory gold ore and comet dust we’re receiving in return, with no tax on our end, by the way.”

“Humph,” Hallux grumbled. “Those items are of great value to Earth. And surely, we should expect some profit.”

“I suspect profit’s not your only motivator here.”

“Meaning?”

“Let’s meet on our ship, to see if we can work something out.”

__________

Commissioner Hallux’s stubbed nose sniffed the air as he stepped through the airlock. Almost as round as he was tall, he remarked, “Your ship smells…plain.”

I hadn’t a clue how to respond, so I merely welcomed the commissioner aboard and escorted him to the diplomatic suite. A chair, adequate for his girth, waited at the end of a long conference table. I took a seat at the other end and Marie handed me a data pad with the relevant information. “Vorax has been purchasing our agricultural exports since Sol month six, past first contact.”

Hallux leaned into the whispering of his own assistants, replying, “That’s correct.”

“Nearly 1.5 billion metric tons of wheat annually. Two million metric tons of isoglucose. 3,000 tons of vanilla beans, and an astounding amount of cacao.”

“Your point?”

“Sounds like you’re baking a cake,” I noted plainly.

“Hmph.”

“I think Earth can do better,” I replied. “Your tariffs leave us with little to no incentive at all.”

He snorted, “There’s no disputing your world has some of the finest grain in the galaxy…minimal genetic modification.”

“The Lorayans seem to agree,” I revealed. “They’ve offered to buy your portion for 10% more, and without the tariff.”

“That would decimate our supply!”

“Then you’ll need to work with us here,” I demanded. “Or we can just deal with them instead.”

“That’s outrageous!” he grunted.

“So is being taken advantage of! Perhaps I have something to sweeten your deal.” A polished robot rolled up carrying a covered tray. It placed it in front of the commissioner, removing the lid. “I present to you…donuts.”

“Hallux’s demeanor changed instantly, his mouth watering and fingertips rustling. “Donuts you say?” he marveled. “I’ve heard they’re an Earth delicacy!” Scooping a half dozen at once, he drizzled each one into his gaping mouth, then slumped back into his seat, intoxicated.

“A protected earth recipe,” I lied. “I’ll ensure you get a freighter-full every month for as long as we’re in agreement.”

The human pastry was the most marvelous thing the commissioner had ever sampled, priceless and delectable in every measure. “Deal!” he agreed. “I’ll see to it the tariff is lifted, and we’ll match the Lorayan offer.” He grinned. “Adding a regular supply of these irreplaceable bits of heaven every month…I’m not sure who’s getting the better deal!” Hallux rose. “A pleasure.” He wiped the crumbs from the corners of his mouth before heading back to his ship.

“How’d you know that would work?” Marie marveled.

“Like I said – ‘Never come between a Voraxan and his voracities.’”

Congrats Greg! Nice job!

Tom wrote: "Excellent sensory description, Chris. And, a great twist."

Thanks, Tom. :)

Mine's up. Nice to be back at this again.

Infection

My awakening began with a clack and a hiss, the pitch-black darkness steadily succumbing to ambient lighting from deep recesses all around. The dialysis pumps fading, I sensed the feeling return to my fingertips, my archived blood flowing in to replace the cryocirc that had kept me alive.

Memories flooded back. There was a cataclysm. Our people nearly died.

A series of unwelcomed stings and syringes pierced my flesh, filling my tissues with the neuromuscular cocktail designed to wake them…built to help my cells recover from countless years of neglect. A shift in illumination from inside my pod, and the hatch lifted away, exposing me to the mechanical whispers of a long-dormant facility coming back to life. I took my first deep breath of the cold, stale air.

Lurching up into a seated position I realized painfully late the toll of years in cryogenic preservation. Muscles cramped and I massaged my shoulders if only to ease the ache which seemed almost to the bone. Next to me, at least a dozen other hatches had likewise unsealed themselves, their occupants stirring from within.

“Greetings Director, how would you like to proceed,” an ethereal voice asked from the darkness.

“First, how about some lights,” I requested and, suddenly blinded, had to shield my eyes. “Whoa, too much! Decrease illumination by fifty percent.” Daring to look, I discovered others pulling themselves out, grimacing as their feet reached the cold floor. “Status report,” I requested, also caught by the surprising chill in the deck plating.

“Terraforming complete,” the computerized voice responded.

“Survival percentage?”

“57.3%”

“Explain.” I pulled a uniform from the locker at the foot of my pod.

“Zones sixteen thru twenty-four experienced system failure due to seismic activity approximately sixty-six million orbits ago.”

“Million?” I marveled in disbelief.

“Zones thirty-seven thru fifty-six experienced system failure due to mechanical malfunction approximately 436,358 orbits ago. Zones…”

“How long have we been under?”

“Nearly 252 million orbits.”

I was staggered. “And how many were lost?”

“56,260,152 occupants,” it replied, emotionlessly.

“Damn. That dramatically exceeded our projections. And the remaining pods.”

“Intact and functioning within parameters.”

I buckled the straps on my boots. “Are we the first?”

The voice replied, “Protocol states that lead personal be reanimated prior to reinitialization of the population.”

“And the surface?” I headed to a nearby console.

“Habitable within acceptable parameters. 78% Nitrogen, 21% oxygen, 0.9% argon, along with trace amounts of carbon dioxide, water vapor, and other gases, though hydrocarbon, ozone levels, and other contaminants have been increasing over the past 200 orbits.”

“Hydrocarbons? Impossible. The algorithm was designed to account for those. Give me a visual.”

The image appearing before me was a paradise. Rolling green hills splashed with wildflowers spread off to a jagged, snow-capped mountain range on the horizon. Billowy clouds floated peacefully across beep blue skies and the sun intermittently bathed the countryside in piercing light from its apex in the sky. Then, something interrupted the view. “A glitch?” I wondered, checking the controls just as the image returned.

“Could be some sort of animal in front of the scope,” Dr. Jaffi, our lead scientist, explained. He smoothed his uniform down as he approached. “We surmised the eruptions would allow for a 4% survival rate. It could be a descendant of a survivor.”

“I’m sending out a probe” I said and hit the command.

The device launched into the sky from our hidden location below ground, and I could see mountains and rivers, miles of countryside. Then, it spied a glimmer over the next rise and zoomed in on something we didn’t account for. I leaned in, frustrated. “What are those?”

Bustling through busy streets and moving in every direction, simple bipedal creatures wrapped in cloth garments hurried this way and that. Scaleless with a tuft of fur atop their tiny heads, they had neither the slim irises nor pronounced quills of an intelligent species. Their simple vehicles and modest shelters, the randomness of their being, lacked any notion of a sophisticated society such as ours – one which had preserved an entire civilization from certain doom. Worse, they all looked about the same – basic and soft, a single class without the colorful steakings, mottlings, or teeth indicating rank or status. Additional scans poured in from remote sensors, revealing a planet brimming with these creatures and on the verge of toppling back over the brink.

“An infection,” Jaffi lamented plainly. “Best eradicate them before they do any more damage.”

I sighed, agreeing, “Make the preparations.”