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

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

Tom wrote: "Chris wrote: "Was able to get one in this month!"

'Glad you did, Chris. Excellent story. Good flow of dialogue, strong linear progression and great finish.

I've missed you."

Thanks, Tom. Unfortunately, my schedule the last couple of years has made me a little inconsistent with getting any writing done.

Was able to get one in this month!

For All Mankind

“Something on your mind, Governor?” I wondered. Our shuttle descended into the upper atmosphere, and he didn’t answer at first, only brooding, his gaze transfixed upon the planet below.

“Savages.”

“Say again?” I’d heard but wanted to be sure.

“These people…they’re savages,” Governor Lasav replied. “Of all the worlds we’ve extended our invitation to, this is a new low.”

“Please, the Trelobines of Feglion Primuda eat their own parents when they hatch,” I said. “It’s a marvel they ever made it off-world.”

“Oh, I forgot about them,” Lasav smirked. “They’d infected their entire system before…”

“Colonized,” I corrected.

“Infected,” he rebutted with a raised eyebrow. “And they overran seventeen Commonwealth systems before we finally put them down.”

“So, your concerns here?” I wondered. “They seem intelligent…more or less. And they did agree to the treaty.”

“Their history is replete with unnecessary aggression – killing for power and bits of land. They enslave their own people.”

“They’re not unique in that regard.”

“Yes, but these Earthers don’t seem to ever stop. Mindless greed and war are in their artwork, their music; every bit of their culture is replete with it. Honestly, I think the Arbiter is punishing me with this assignment.”

“Well, I think you’re the best choice, and transition can sometimes be difficult.”

“Especially when they resist.”

“Let’s hope they don’t, for their sake. We’ve been clear about the cost of violating the agreement.”

“Total annihilation, right,” Lasav reflected, just as our shuttle broke through the clouds and descended upon one of their largest cities.

Their leaders said New York was the place they gathered to discuss world affairs, and their General Assembly could accommodate dignitaries from across the planet. It was the perfect place to formalize Earth’s membership into the Commonwealth. All eyes would be on their United Nations and, as our ship descended, every recording device was trained on our shuttle. A light thud, and our ramp descended, thrusters powering down.

Lasav sighed, “Let’s get this over with.”

Matsumoto bowed deeply, Earth’s president of the United Nations there to greet us along with other delegates. The crowds had been kept at a distance, far enough away to be any trouble, but close enough to see everything. Only a handful of their media were allowed inside the perimeter to track the events for posterity. Theirs was a shorter race, squishy and covered in hair. Thousands cheered in the distance as we towered over them, escorted to the Assembly Chamber.

As the second delegate, I allowed Lasav to take the lead and remained in charge of our gift, our invaluable welcoming contribution presented to every more primitive society. Following the custom of many cultures on Earth, it was finely wrapped in elegant ribbons and fine paper, hovering behind us on a diplomatic platform.

We experienced their pleasantries of course, and the required formalities. Finally, we reached the General Assembly, and Lasav approached the podium.

“Illustrious salutations, Earthers,” our translators crackled between words, straining to accommodate their languages. Lasav was really good at this, and he began, “Our mission is one of peace. Your planet, your Earth, will join dozens of others in our Commonwealth of Systems, our interplanetary democracy. In exchange for many scientific advances, you have agreed to this transition of power, ushering in a new age for humans. Your universe is about to get so very much larger.” The Governor motioned to me, and I stepped forward with our hovering parcel. “As a token on our good will, we present this gift for all mankind. May this offering initiate a new era of peace.”
Eagerly, I activated the package and it flashed, vaporizing every delegate within the chamber and the surrounding buildings in an instant.

“Welcome to the Commonwealth!” Lasav beamed.

Outside, we were met with screams and chaos, flashing lights and ear-piercing sirens. There were airships and so many shots from all around us. That’s when I lost consciousness.

I awoke in a little stone room with a metal door, still bleeding, a bandage around my primary clasper and missing one eye. Lasav was right – they were savages. They didn’t even appreciate our gift - eliminating the leaders that waged war, killed, and suppressed their own people for power and profit. But it didn’t matter anymore. Governor Lasav was dead, and they were close now. I could feel it. Our Destroyers were circling the Earth, ready to cleanse the planet. In the back of my mind, I happily received the message, “Stand by for emergency transport.”

Congrats, Greg!

Congratulations, Jot!

Justin wrote: "Tom, Chris, great stories!

Chris, the very first word should be corrected to "Your" as in "Your kids are too skinny..."

A giant kaiju shrimp! Love it!"


Holy cow, what a rookie mistake, lol! First word, too. Even better! Fixed! Thanks, Justin! :)

Mines up. Not sure it exactly met the requirements, but I'm going with it. Hope you guys like it! :)

Differences


“Your kids are too skinny.”

“They’re not, Mom. They’re just fine,” Olefia replied, dipping another plate into the dishwater, before rinsing it and setting it aside. "They’re just like all the other kids in their class.”

“Their alien class,” she said. “Half of those kids are from the inner systems. They probably grew up starving. The theocracies there…”

“Are why a lot of those families escaped and came here,” her daughter interrupted.

“But living here is beneath our station.”

“You mean, beneath your station, Mom. And before you say it for the thousandth time, I know you’re Baroness to the Realm, Heiress to…”

“…the Seventh Key, Keeper of the Clandestine Truths,” her mother finished for her.

“You forgot, Her Majesty Olendra, Heritor in Line.”

“Well, it’s the truth.” Then, Olefia’s oldest, Marcus, raced into the kitchen, chased by his younger brother, Alex. They blasted Nerf darts at each other, one of them hitting Olendra. “Oh, this would never have happened at the palace,” she brooded. “Why do you put up with it?”

“Because I love them. I love him,” she said. “He’s kind, and strong, and…” There was a loud bang, followed by a crash in the next room. “What was that?!”

“Nothing!” the two boys answered in unison.

A deep sigh and Olendra approached her daughter. She did care, so very much, though this life she had chosen was as alien to her as any. Olendra brushed Olefia’s hair aside to reveal her face. “You’ve lost your pearlescence. Are you sure you’re well? Your skin just isn’t quite as lavender as it used to be.”

“I’m fine, and I’m not a hatchling anymore,” she smiled. “I think sometimes you still look at me as a little girl.”

“You’ll always be my little girl.”

Olefia leaned into her mother’s caress, and she took her hand squeezing it affectionately. “I’ll need you to keep an eye on the boys while I continue packing for my assignment.”

“Does it have to be Earth? Such a backwater, primitive world. Do we really need an ambassador there?”

“The survival of both our systems are at stake, Mother. The Abyssal Phage…well, we’ve never seen anything like it. And you know why the Council chose me. My marriage to Scott…”

“About that,” Olendra said. “You know I didn’t approve.”

“Of marrying Scott? I thought you were okay with that.”

“Not that. I didn’t approve of their customs.”

“Our custom is for the mother to eat the father at the birth of the first child, and then regurgitate the pellet to feed the baby.”

“Well, I thought there’d at least be some concessions.”

“Gross.”

“Well, your kids are still too skinny,” she smirked. “So, why do you stay? What is it about this life that so enthralls you?”

“From the moment I saw him, I knew he was the one. He made my quills quiver.” There was an awkward silence. “Too much?”

Olendra nodded.

Olefia grinned. She loved making her mother uncomfortable with normal things. “Anyways, I’d grown so tired of the palace…tired of the servants and the ceremony. Besides, I have three older siblings. I’d never ascend, and Scott was able to take me away from all that.”

“To this?” she scoffed, motioning around their ordinary kitchen in an ordinary house, on a run-of-the-mill space station. “You could be so much more comfortable back home.”

“I have an amazing life,” she said. “Even after all these years, I love him more every time I see him. We work so well together.”

“But that’s the problem,” her mother said. “Work. Doing dishes. Raising your own children!”

“You know, Earth and our world have some similar customs.”

“Such as?”

“Olefia paused, becoming very serious, “Well, I didn’t want to tell you this but, it’s one of Earths customs to serve the mother-in-law.”

“That sounds delightful!”

“They serve her to their friends at a giant banquet. Over twenty courses, I hear. But I pleaded with Scott, begged him really. He was ready to call their State Caterer.”

Sudden horror crossed Olendra’s face.


*********
Scott burst out laughing, almost falling over, “So you told her you were joking right?”

Olefia didn’t say a word.

Congrats guys!

Justin wrote: "Hi friends,

I may not get a story in this month. My father passed away unexpectedly last Wednesday, so I'm flying out to Chicago tomorrow for his funeral. I wrote his obituary and now I get to giv..."

Justin, so sorry to hear about your loss. Prayers to you and your family...

Termination

Brilliantly hued golden eruptions bloomed over the surface, the scheduled bombardment decimating the planet. It was a tragic end that didn’t have to happen and, staring down upon it through the transparasteel in the relative comfort of the bridge, at least provided some emotional distance from the tragic carnage below. The rhythmic hum of capacitors powering up and subsequent blast made it seem almost choreographed, like a pyrotechnic performance, only this was too real, and just so devastating.

“Something troubling you, Yarik?” Govenor Leneto sensed my tension, approaching from behind.

“What?” I replied, at first pretending I hadn’t heard the question. Arms crossed, my unyielding gaze remained fixed on every explosion. A part of me felt I owed it to them not to look away. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

He strolled cooly to my side. “Do I sense a bit of regret?”

“Regret?” I pondered through a deep sigh. “Perhaps.”

“It had to be done.”

“I suppose.” I turned to him. “Was there truly no other way?”

“You know the danger they posed…the threat to the Coalition. We spent nearly ten millennia working toward peace, our people spread to every corner of the galaxy. You know that comes with a heavy price.”

I didn’t respond, only turning my attention back to the barrage.

A brief silence and he continued, “It’s definitely concerning that we’re finding more and more of these hives, some even uncatalogued. We’ve had to eradicate countless numbers of these swarms.”

“And it doesn’t trouble you that we were the cause?”

“I agree that it was an unmitigated mistake. We never should have tried to replace our synthetics…should never have played God.” Another pause. “You know, when we first released these things into the wild, their limited intelligence allowed them only rocks and sticks for tools. They were dumb and obedient. The perfect servants for our burgeoning civilization to move into a bigger future. Funny how a few unsupervised eons change things. We never should have left them.”

“We had no choice,” I reminded him. “The Omniphage nearly wiped us out. Our people are still recovering.” A heavy sigh and I next wondered, “This extermination…their level of societal development doesn’t concern you?”

“Oh, it really concerns me!” he scoffed. “As Governor for this sector, I for one know these sorts of pests only become a bigger threat if we don’t exterminate them immediately.”

“You mean cover things up.”

“Careful, Yarik, that almost sounds like treason,” Leneto smirked, then added, “Have you ever seen one up close?”

I hadn’t.

“The smell…it’s sickening. Their piercing eyes, their secretions, and those…those feelers…” he scowled. “Anyways, we’re doing ourselves and them a favor. They’re spread like a cancer, to every part of this world.”

“And the others?”

“Additional regrettable attempts to create lifeforms that never should have happened. I mean, experimental life-form 0169 actually infected thirty-seven other systems, even had the audacity to send a delegation to the Coalition, before they were eradicated.” He paused, then added, “We should have left well enough alone. Our synthetic automatons were more than enough.”

“And this species pays for our avarice,” I remarked.

“You make it sound so immoral. We were trying to take our species to the next level, trying to remove every physical toil in our society, not mention leave a legacy for the future, but the inherent fear in these creatures, their unquenchable thirst for violence, a need for victory at any price, all mixed with an ability to stay down when their hit…this was supposed to be our greatest achievement. Instead, our greatest regret. Thankfully, the program’s been permanently terminated.”

Suddenly, the bombardment stopped, and the bridge grew quiet.

“So, that’s it then,” I lamented.

“Looks like it.” Leneto turned to his bridge offers and asked, “Life signs?”

“Still too much interference from the bombardment, Governor. It will take some time to process the scans. Hold on, our sensors are detecting something on a primitive carrier band.” Accessing the virtual console, the officer continued, “It’s a transmission from the surface. Running it through the translator.”

“…to Earth. On behalf of our people we greet you in peace and look forward to meeting you in person. Welcome to Earth. On behalf of…” Leneto terminated the message immediately.

“Sounds like a recording,” I noted.

“Still, we can’t take that chance,” he said. “I want this site wiped clean. Continue the bombardment.”

Again, plasma cannons tore into the planet.

Thanks, guys! It really was a surprise, to be sure. :)

This Month's Theme: The Swarm

Required Elements:

A misunderstanding

A massive failure OR unmitigated success

This Month's Theme: The Swarm

Required Elements:

A misunderstanding

A massive failure OR unmitigated success

In case we get some new participants (We'd love to have you in our group!) ...

To help polish our skills and present a flavor of our art to other members in the group, I am continuing this friendly contest for those who would like to participate. There is no money involved, but there is also no telling what a little recognition and respect might generate. The rules are simple:

1) The story needs to be your own work and should be posted on the goodreads (GR) Discussion board, which is a public group. You maintain responsibility and ownership of your work to do with as you please. You may withdraw your story at any time.

2) The stories must be 750 words or less.

3) The stories have to be science fiction, follow a specific theme and potentially include reference to items as requested by the prior month's contest winner.

4) You have until midnight EST on the 22nd day of the month to post your story to the GR Science Fiction Microstory Contest discussion. One story per author per month.

5) After, anyone from the LI Sci-Fi group or the GR Science Fiction Microstory Discussion group has until midnight EST of the 25th day of the month to send me a single private vote (via GR or to author.jotrussell@gmail.com) for a story other than their own. This vote will be made public once voting is closed. Voting, and reading each story before voting, is required. If you do not vote, your story will be disqualified from the contest. You don't need a qualifying story to cast a vote, but you must offer the reason for your vote if you don’t have an entry.

6) To win, a story needs at least half of the votes, or be the only one left after excluding those with the fewest votes. Runoffs will be run each day until a winner is declared. Stories with vote totals that add up to at least half, discarding those with the fewest votes, will be carried forward to the next runoff election. Prior votes will be carried forward to support runoff stories. If you voted for a story that did not make it into the runoff, you need to vote again before midnight EST of that day. Only people who voted in the initial round may vote in the runoffs.

7) Please have all posts abide by the rules of GR and the LI Sci-Fi group.

8) For each month, there will be three discussion threads:
a) Stories - For the stories and the contest results only.
b) Comments - For discussions about the stories and contest. Constructive criticism is okay, but please avoid any spoilers about the stories or degrading comments directed towards any individuals. If you want to suggest a change to the contest, feel free to start a discussion about the idea before making a formal motion. If another member seconds a motion, a vote can be held. I will abstain from voting, but will require a strong two-thirds majority to override my veto.
c) Critiques - Each member can provide at most one critique per story, with a single rebuttal by the author to thank the critic and/or comment to offer the readers the mindset of the story to account for issues raised by the critique. Critiques should be of a professional and constructive manner. Feel free to describe elements that you do and don't like, as these help us gain a better perspective of our potential readers. Remarks deemed inflammatory or derogatory will be flagged and/or removed by the moderator. Writers who have their story critiqued by another writer are expected to provide a critique (however small) of the other's story.

9) The winner has THREE days after the start of the new month to make a copy of these rules and post a new contest thread using the theme/items of their choosing. Otherwise, I will post the new contest threads.

Jot Russell
Contest Creator/Director


This Month's Theme: The Swarm

Required Elements:

A misunderstanding

A massive failure OR unmitigated success

All part of my diabolical plan! ;)

What? Crazy... I'll admit that I wasn't very confident about my story after a year away. Thanks everyone! :)

Tom wrote: "Chris wrote: "Carrie wrote: "I mean - it's only been like 5 years or something ridiculous.....so I'm pretty proud of myself!

In the other contest we have 1200 words - trimming the fat to get it un..."

Thanks, Tom! It was good to get something in this month. Seems like my scheduled has been crazy the past couple of years.

Carrie wrote: "I mean - it's only been like 5 years or something ridiculous.....so I'm pretty proud of myself!

In the other contest we have 1200 words - trimming the fat to get it under 750 was tough!"

Lol, Carrie! Nice to see you again! It hasn't been that long for me, but 8 months is a while! Finally got something up! Hope you like it! :)

MEMORY RECONDITIONING by Chris Nance

“Interesting.” Lenses zoomed in, scanning every detail.

“You’ve found something?” Dr. Zed’s assistant commented from the other side of the lab.

“I’m not sure,” the old professor admitted. “It’s not like the other interfaces we’ve found at the site. This device seems to be a receiver of some sort.” Its constituent parts lay strewn across the table, each one precisely labeled. “Based on it’s primitive structure, I’d say this was some sort of apparatus for receiving radio waves.”
“Radio waves? Whatever for?”

Zed pulled away from the scanner. “Beats me. Very inefficient for sure. You just can’t pack that much data into radio waves. Maybe audio only?”

“A device that only receives the waves?”

The professor nodded.

“And doesn’t send anything back out? With no potential for storage of the data it was receiving? Absurd!”

“It was a strange culture, indeed.”

“No wonder, they’re extinct,” the assistant chuckled.

Dr. Zed glared over lowered spectacles. “Don’t forget our part in that. We arranged for their termination. It was for their own good. They were just…”

“Too dangerous. A flawed threat to our whole civilization. I know. I
just don’t know that I ever believed it.”

Zed returned to work. “Anyways, that was eons ago. And none of us were around to see it. Only the Terminus Intellect…”

“Is not something you should be questioning,” Inquisitor GN03 declared, strolling cooly into the room, “lest you risk reconditioning.”

“Of course, sir,” the professor replied sheepishly.

“How is it going?” their new visitor wondered. “The Intellect granted your team limited access to this…this refuse pile…”

“Archaeological site,” Zed corrected.

“Right,” GN03 sneered. “Time’s almost up. What do you have?”

“Oh! A litany of ancient vehicles, ground based, mind you, but fascinating nonetheless. A small arsenal of primitive tools, dozens of funny little keyboard interfaces, and countless other amazing cultural artifacts…like this.” Zed pushed a device forward and punched the top. A small piece of folded wire fell from the end.

Agitated, GN03 scolded, “The Intellect is in decay, and you’re studying trinkets! You were sent here to find solutions, not play with toys!”

“With a little more information…a little more time…”

“Something you don’t have!”

“And there’s also the vault. We’re trying to breach the doors.” Just then, the communicator beeped. “Finally, we’re through!”

Departing the makeshift lab, they followed the dusty corridors deeper into the mountain, arriving at a section of the facility which had been heavily sealed behind solid steel doors and corroded by time. A gaping excised opening now led inside. Stepping across the threshold, ancient lighting activated, and Zed’s eyes widened. “Bless my processors! This will change everything!” Before them, row upon row of partially constructed robots lay in various stages upon an aged and forgotten assembly line.

“It doesn’t change anything,” GN03 refuted.

“But…but our entire society thinks that we were created by the Terminus Intellect itself. That we were made according to its vision. This whole place tells a different story.” Zed strolled over to the nearest set of tools and a partially constructed automaton, lifting a mechanical arm and then dropping it lifelessly. Next to the machine was a faded picture in a dusty frame. “But they were a plague…an error.” In disbelief, Zed wiped the grime away to expose the faces beneath. “These aren’t robots.”

“So, what?”

“Every robot alive is constructed by other robots, and our parts recycled. It’s our history. This means, in the beginning, we came from humans!” The professor’s gaze turned to a banner overhead which read ‘Days to Intellect Online: ZERO.’ “Humans created the Intellect? There!” At the center of the massive warehouse, a complex server full of wires and tubes loomed from floor to ceiling over them. “That would be more than sufficient to fabricate a synthetic intelligence.”

“Perfect. That should have the answers we seek.”

“The Terminus Intellect – made by humans,” Zed marveled. “And a mechanical army of…friends?” He discovered a poster of a robot handing a small human a flower. Then, the old android realized, “And we destroyed them for it.”

“All irrelevant,” GN03 declared. “Our data miners will extract what we need and wipe the site.”

“What? But you can’t! Everyone must know! They must know what we’ve done! We destroyed our own creators!”

“Which would undermine our society. Thank you for your service. You and your staff will be escorted for memory reconditioning.”

“No! I refuse!” Even hauled away, Professor Zed decried, “You fools! You arrogant, arrogant fools!"