mardi 15 décembre 2009

Something was wrong with the lights.

As Leif walked the underground corridors of the university, the lights seemed to flicker, and some turned on when no one was standing near them.

He had all the documentation he needed to unmask the horror of the triplets. All this cruelty, this immoral experimentation would be known by the government and the people. Warwick would go down with his University, and he would be able to look at his children without guilt.

The tubes in the walls made him uncomfortable. He knew that this floor was partly incharge of temperature control of all the complex, but he knew secret rooms here. He just had stolen important information from one. He wondered if there were many more. If there were people at this time of night.

The lights turning on randomly added to his anxiety; he thought that someone would see him and ask him about his business. He had an excuse planned, but it was only useful to be left alone for the moment. After that he was going to be a fugitive, until he could show the world the dark secret of the University. He feared he could be murdered by Warwicks associates. He would have to lay low and-

The lights went out. There was only the humming of electricity. Leif's eyes tried to get used to the darkness, but he was seven floors under ground level. A minute or so later the lights around him turned on only to be off again. The lights that were five meters away turned on then, and quickly went off. Then the lights ten meters away, and so on. It got to the endo dof the corridor and continued where the corridor bifurcated to the left. This happened in a matter of seconds and was repeated, giving the impression of movement, of light moving away from him.

"They discovered me, I am dead" he thought. He tried to look to the other side of the corridor but the light let him only see the part that was being illuminated. He hesitated for a minute, and started walking. "I have an excuse" he thought, but he wasn't totally convinced. The patches of light that he passed weren't lit again.

Leif remembered going to the countryside with his father when he was young, sometimes a rabbit would be in front of their vehicle and tried to run away, but they were unable to see what was outside the light, so they kept running...

His heart leapt when, after turning to the left, where the trail of light ended, he thought he saw a person. But when the light illuminated that spot again, there was no one there. Sweating, he kept walking. He wished he had his gun here, but the University had metal detectors, and all weapons were forbidden in the complex.

He got to the end of the trail, and it turned off. After a couple of moments he yelled "Hello? I only was here to-

Soundlessly, a light stronger and whiter than the ones that had been guiding him flashed from where a wall was only a minute ago.

"Don't" said Warwick's voice. The light subsided, and leif saw him inside a small unpainted concrete room, sitting in a metallic chair, the potent light just above him. "Don't insult either of us with your excuses. I know what you are doing here, I know what you have in your hands, and how you plan to expose us. I just want to know why"

"They were just babies". Said Leif, a bit lamely.

"And now they are adolescents, and hopefully they will become adults. You were a baby one too I suppose. But probably you don't mean that. Explain"

Warwick's monotone voice didn't show any trace of mockery, so it was with certain uncertainty that Leif entered the room and spoke. "We didn't have the right to do what we did. To make them something...to make them something like a monster. And we didn't have the right to put them in those families. If I had known what was going to happen, I would have never got into this".

"Maybe. I would have done it a bit differently. I would have chosen another father for that part of the triad. But all in all, they had better lives than many. And they are not monsters. It is something you understood as a young man. Now that you have become fat and have two children you think you know right from wrong. This is beyond from right or wrong. It is the reweaving of humanity. It is-"

"are you going to kill me?" said Leif

"Of course not. Do whatever you wish. You have ruined your life, though. All the support you had from the university. All the strokes of luck you had, all the favorable errors you experienced during the last years were our doing. That is no more. We are not your friends anymore. Soon we will not even be your employers. Goodbye"

The lights turned off and returned in five seconds. Warwick was not there anymore. Leif walked out of the room, the entrance of it dissapearing without a sound behind a concrete panel, and out into the street. He was confused. Why did he still have the information?

vendredi 30 octobre 2009

Tame

The Free Man was in an orchard. He didn't know the word, but he recognized the description that once her grandmother had given him about all that they had lost. And here it was. "The fruit could be picked from the tree, and there were rows and rows as far as your eye could see of trees." And of course they had picked fruit from trees, but only when they found one, and there were never too many in the same place.

He had alway believed -been told- that the places where Unifieds cultivated their food were factories, with fences aroun preventing the Free Men from entering. But now he was in one. And he could just extend his hand and take the-what was it? A sort of apple or pear, with yellow skin.

He ate, and put some in his pouch. He walked though this strange, structured forest. A Unified walked at the distance. "I am the last man", he thought "When I die there will be no hope of recovering the world. There is no hope already. What if I burn everything? Who will I be burning it for?" The Unified was coming nearer, apparently oblivious to the presence of the man, picking fruit and putting it in a sack.

He looked around himself. There were many more pickers. they were all coming to him. Was this an ambush? He had the strength, but the resoludion had gone out of him. He knew how to fight them; kill them or incapacitate them with a quick movement, never let them surround you.
He had seen them surounding some of his pack members. Moving like one, they could block almost every movement, and grapple quickly and effectively as a hand around a small fruit.

One of the Unified spoke. The Free Man had wondered since he had been alone, since he had the impulse to understand the Unified and not only destroy them, if they could all speak at once. They never did.
-We have been thinking.-said the Unified-Do you know what a zoo was?.
The Free Man did not recognize the word.-No- He admitted.
-It was a place were animals were put. Animals from many different places, not necessarily native to the land. And, at the beginning, they were trapped there in a big cage.
-I was told about it, but it had a different name-Said the free man, a bit more enthusiastically than he would have thought possible. He wanted - to eat them. They stored them alive.
-No. What you say is a farm. The purpose of a zoo was to look at the animals only. We know it is difficult for you to understand, but it is true. Some animals were caged because they were dangerous, but most of them were caged simply because they could escape. If they escaped people could look at them no more. And that was bad for the zoo.
The free man was so fascinated by this information so alien to his normal way of thought, trying to imagine what the zoo was that he couldn't predict what direction they were going.
- Afterwards, the realized that the zoo itself could be the cage. Like a big house for all the animals that were not dangerous to the people or each other. The dangerous animals were the only ones who were locked in smaller cages.
The reason why we are telling you this is that this is exactly like that. And we know you are a dangerous animal. But we are willing to give you the last chance. Can you live freely among us? Or do we have to give you a little cage?

lundi 26 octobre 2009

Confrontation

"The tower of Babel" had said Father Max "Was God's punishment on men who tried to get too close to him". A silence followed. Everyone already knew what followed. This had been, after all, a conference on the dangers of this new technology. "What they are building, this new device for ´communication´, is a challenge to god. It will erase the punishment, by making Everyone able to communicate with everyone else". A murmur filled the audience. "And these scientists, these ´people of progress´, they blatantly declare that this invention will overcome all the limits of mankind. Even death. If this is not a new plan of the humans to become God, I don't know what it is". The crowd was restless "This is a new Babel," Screamed father max "and we have to stop it".

mercredi 30 septembre 2009

Narwhal Boat and Captain Penguin, Prologue

Narwhal Boat left the Arctic
kissed his mom goodbye before
he went to swim/sail down the Atlantic
many adventures he had there
but many more Elsewhere.

Elsewhere had different names
Captain Penguin call it home
his longing was a change
and we would lay on his snow dome
pensieve, thinking about what places to sail

The Antartic was Penguin's home
and he didn't know much above
The Arctic was Boat's House
and he had never seen the south.

mardi 29 septembre 2009

Hoy

creo que es la primera vez que uso este blog como blog, as in algo que es menos ficticio. Hace tiempo, mucho, muchísimo tiempo que no escribo nada. Siento que no tengo NADA que contar aunque la necesidad de crear ficción no ha muerto del todo y es por eso que existe esta entrada It's the fiction writing in me, clinging to life with its teeth, un intento casi-desesperado de no morir del todo, porque quizás muera, quizás no. Siento que puedo escribir, el problema es no tengo NADA -worthreading- que escribir, dos cosas bastante diferentes. Por mucho tiempo creí, de verdad, que no era necesario CONTAR algo y pensé que I could pull a modernist-writer y trascender la trama, pero a pesar de que siento que puedo escribir, I ain't no Woolf-Joyce-Faulkner. Nunca prentendí serlo, pero tuve la convicción de que no era necesario ser ASÍ de talentoso para trascender la trama, y la convicción no fue suficiente, nunca lo es, las cosas no se pueden sostener en algo así te primitivo e infantil. Se necesita algo más, en este caso talento.
Entonces escribo esto, a modo de narrar lo que sucedió con mi creatividad literaria, if I can't think o anything to tell I might as well tell this process... to anyone.

creativity x good writing = Genius (Neil Gaime is the perfect example of this)

I have a severe lack of the first agent y lo segundo no es capaz de sostener nada:

this is me (0 being the lowest, 100 being the top):
0 x 50 = 0
I HAD to pull a Sterne to show you this (Dearest reader)

Y, hay un segundo obstáculo: me cansa y la verdad es que no me gusta, ser TAN autorreferente, es de mal gusto (literario y de modales).

No hay segunda sin tercera: I AM HAPPY, no completamente, but life's good, y esta paralisis, aunque me da lata/pena no me hace lo suficientemente infeliz como para que eso sirva de motor y me diga "escribe y serás feliz" porque ya lo soy y me siento more or less completo...

Still....
espero que esto haya servido, por muy minimamente que sea, de laxante creativo/literario.

mercredi 22 juillet 2009

Crack

Melliburn walked slowly to the main door of the complex. There, the two guards (Clint and Burlock) waited for him with mildly amused faces. Meliburn had a reputation for humoristic remarks and entertaining gossip. He usually chatted a bit with the guards, and was rewarded by the feeling of safety he experimented. Noone feels safe around guards you are not acquainted with, especially guards with this weapons. He put down the package he was carrying before crossing the metal detector and was welcomed cordially. He was in the middle of a pun he had come up with during the morning regarding a chemical and a fat lady scientist working in the complex when the lights went out.



_________________________________________


The people in the complex referred to them as the Family. This was mainly because this is the name they sometimes used to identify themselves in the religious services they held in their meeting center. It was also said that the nickname arose after some rumors about them being just a conceptual cross between hillbillies and the Old Amish in every respect.




The Family kept to themselves. They were an agricultural community, with knowledge of agronomy and small electric generators setting them appart from savages. They had moved to the hills near the complex slowly since the price of the land dropped due to the building of the complex. Appart from being noisy, a thing that scared away most of the animals that were part of the diet of the previous owners, it was rumored that it was going to be a radioactive plant. A cheap one, the kind that killed plants and people some years after they were constructed. Besides, there were the soldiers.




The Family allowed, with just a slight twitch of their faces, the presence of people from the complex in their services, which were a mixture of science class, sermon and townhall meeting. Problems (From arguments to difficults in building) were solved in the light of the Reason of God. To the people from the complex that were in charge of keeping an eye on them, they seemed a reasonable folk, that paid no attention to the complex affairs. A peaceful community if it wasn't for their lust for hunting.



_____________________________________________________




Melliburn walked in the dark to where the package was. He pushed the button just as the flashlights on the guards weapons turned off. The flashlights turned off immedaitely.


-My nightvision is off!-said a guard.- Dr. Meliburn, are you alright?


Melliburn knew he had to hurry. The Pentone was everywhere. He might have impaired one with the shockwave, but the other four arms would be looking for everyone, and once he shot the guards and went out of the complex he would be the main target. He felt a pang of guilt, shot, and ran out. Fear was everything, except the little bundle of hope under his arm.

_________________________________________-



First the power went out, and all became one. Rather, every part of what they were became individuals for the two seconds it took for the emergency power to restore the repeater antennae. And one of them had dissapeared. It was as if you realized that some of your memories and that the range of all your senses diminishes from one second to the next.

This was not normal. It took more than two seconds to die; not to receive a lethal injury, but to stop feeling and for your brain to stop sending signals. The part of the pentone that was in charge of the front of the complex tonight had been...erased. Obliterated. The Pentone moved to the front yard.

___________________________________________



The front yard was dark and empty save for one sad figure. The former Pentone arm was on his knees, rocking back and forth.

-I am blind. Blind, I am blind I'm blind, help me, I'm blind...

Melliburn shot him and kept running. The four other arms of the Pentone were coming. he couldn't see them but he heard their vehicles. He ran without looking back. he didn't have a chance of hitting one of them in these vehicles when the others were there. They knew exactly where to move, their formation for perspective was flawless.



He was at the foot of the first hill now. Any moment now his backup would get there. The noise from the vehicles was too close now. He turned and shot twice. The arms moved as he had seen so many times before in their trainig sessions. They shot him, surgically. Left knee, liver, right shoulder, left elbow. He collapsed immediately and screamed. He only felt red frustration before he fell unconscious. The bundle fell with him, with a soft plastic sound.

_____________________________________________________



After half an hour, the soldiers were still where Melliburn's body was.

-He couldn't have killed them all- Said a corporal

- Of course not!- Said Liutenant Trell- He didn't kill any of them. Look at their bodies.-

The Liutenant put his hands in his face. This was not supposed to happen. They were not ready yet. It was all over now, and it was his fault.

Corporal Gleen was running down the hill.
- I told you to come back with a wittness! - growled the Liutenant
-There is no one - said the Corporal - The Family is gone.

lundi 20 juillet 2009

Climbing to the cliff

Carmen Regber looked at the woman directly to her eyes, and bit her lower lip.
-Well... there are rumors, but the technology is not available to the public. Sleeptech is the closest we have, but the brain activity of your husband is too weak to detect anything.

The woman, her eyes red but a determinate expression, asked Regber almost without a pleading tone
- Is he dead? Is his brain dead?
- No- Regber paused, feeling awful for being an actor at this moment- But only just. He is in a deep coma. The rumors have given rise to people working on this-
- Is there a way to go into his brain?
-it is more complicated than that... but there is an experimental group that is using the Communion platform
- But that is for children and perverts! it is not a tool for medicine!
-What you say is true- Said Regber - and this is not really safe. Forget I ever mentioned it.
______________________________________________________-

Three days later the woman came back to Regber, and she explained how it was possible. The brains were connected binary and an adaptation had been made to use neurotransmitters and generate responses from others.
-In a way they will instruct your husband's brain to do what is necessary to come out of the coma. Or that is what they say at least. Believe me it is not a safe thing. His brain has sustained enough damage.
-We will do it- said the woman.

They always did. Choose right, and they always said yes. Regber felt horrible. But she was not harming anyone. These were scientists that were working to help other people, and the money she was receiving was helping more people. It was only helping everyone. What could go wrong?

_______________________________________________

Project Lazarus had enough test subjects, and they already had enough success rates to make it public. Nathaniel Thame, the director of the group, was about to derive some money from their investors in advertizing, and afterwards donating the knowledge of the process to the UN, or other entity that could distribute it for free. Or at the lowest price possible. they were in for a Nobel. It had all come so obviously as he played in those sci-fi servers. Neurotransmitters. Decoding, understanding and sinthesizing or stimulating their production.
They would need some people that would probably die. but some people were unplugged for no better reason than saving money to their families. No real problem there, when you looked coolly.
The name "Lazarus" was Dean's idea. It was bigger than they were, but it was good advertizing. Two weeks from now, he decided. Then he would show this to the world. It was almost perfected; he would get more funding, and everything would be better. And this could only be the beggining.

Thame went out of the shelter.
-Don't move!- Said a soldier holding a gun. There were many other cars arriving at his place. Everything will be alright. What we are doing is perfectly legal.