Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Sci Fi Goodness Just For You!

  One of the four English classes I'm taking this term is Science Fiction, and for my first essay for that class, I decided to write a sci fi short story. My teacher, before passing them back, explained that they were graded on a kind of curve and those who got "A+"s wrote the best stuff, and the other papers were graded compared to them. *Ahem* Guess who got an A+?

  Yes, my head is the size of Connecticut right now.

  So, in case you wanted to read something AWESOME (okay, maybe it's more like the size of Texas. Or just people in Texas), I'm posting it here for you, you lucky dogs! (I'll cut it off after the first couple paragraphs so it won't take up my entire little world that is my blog, so if you want to finish it, you can click "read more" at the bottom).

            "All The Right Emotions"
           Stepfanee left her apartment in a hurry, her mindweb dinging every few minutes with the message “Hurry hurry! Work starts soon!” in the soothing, yet amused-sounding automated female voice that Stepfanee had selected the day before. She already hated that skank in her head. She resolved to change her voice selection back to Sexy Aussie the second she had a chance. “Watch your step!” chirped Skanky as Stepfanee boarded 7:50 bus.
            “What is your destination, please?” The bus asked in her mind. Her eye screen showed a map of the Los Angeles area that the bus route covered. She selected a stop on Santa Monica Boulevard, and the bus said, “Thank you, Miss Walker. We’ll try to get you there as quickly as possible.” Stepfanee did not respond. She had learned her lesson when she’d had her mindweb installed last year that people do not respond to automated voices in their head; it was socially awkward. In fact, no one spoke on the bus at all. That might lead to friendships and such, and who had time for that these days?
            Stepfanee got off the bus at her stop (“Have a wonderful day!” the bus said). Several shoddily-dressed men were convened around the bus bench. She let her eyes slide past them, disgusted.  None of their clothes had even the smallest trace of Color-Change or Zazz technology on them, just outdated three-piece suits, the kind they give out like candy at homeless shelters. So blah. And their hair! It was obviously the color they had been born with;  who would ever pay for such boring colors like brown or yellow? Stepfanee prided herself on her ultra-unique white and purple-zebra striped hair. It cost a fortune, but you had to pay big money if you wanted to stand out in a place like L.A. Most shocking of all, the hobos were holding SIGNS. With WORDS. Honestly, who read these days, let alone WROTE? These were obviously nut jobs, the kind of freaks who clung onto the “old ways” with their teeth, unable to adjust. Stepfanee strode past on her fourteen-inch heels and onto the moving sidewalk. To her horror, however, one of the pinstripe-suit wearing, sign-wielding bodies of blah joined her on the moving sidewalk. Stepfanee turned on the latest episode of her soaps in her mindweb in an attempt to ignore him. Phloughraunce was just starting to get feelings for Rauoscheulle, and was considering mental treatment when Blah Boy cleared his throat.
            “Hi, Stepfanee.” He said. Stepfanee was so shocked that she switched her soap off and whirled to meet the eyes of the hobo. He must have been more technologically advanced than he seemed--Only the police had face-recognition software that recognized someone at a glance, and it was illegal for anyone else to have them. A hacker, maybe? Parading like a Stone-Ager? She watched him suspiciously.
            “No need to freak out.” He croaked a laugh. “I knew you in school. I’m Rieshahrd.”
            “Oh.” Stepfanee suddenly recognized the hobo as the quiet boy from school so many years ago. He had certainly changed quite a bit. His hair then had been long, mostly red with gold stars (the crazy styles back then!), he had worn passably fashionable color blenders that never made him stick out in any way, and he had always had something confusing to say in English classes.  Stepfanee had tried her best to ignore him, but something about Rieshahrd had always been . . . well, quirky. And now here he was, acting like a crazy person from fifty years ago. She bet he didn’t even have mindweb software.
            “I remember you really well. I always had a crush on you.” Rieshahrd continued. Oh, dear. Now things were getting reminiscent. Ick. Who did emotions these days? Very uncomfortable, and old-fashioned.
            “Oh, that’s ‘tastic, Rieshahrd, but I really have to make some important calls now.” She let her mind-screen take over, listing her most-used mindweb connections. She mentally flipped through them, looking for someone she could call without it being weird. She flipped through them again, exasperated that she couldn’t find one friend on that list—just her boss, her assistant, and her hairdresser. She decided to fake a call to get Rieshahrd to back off.
            “No!” Rieshahrd grabbed her shoulder. “They’ll be listening! That’s why you all have them, so they can always listen!”
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Touching? Who did this guy think he was? No one touched except under extreme circumstances these days. Even most babies were petri dish-conceived these days. You know, to keep things from getting too personal and such. The old ways were so messy, so emotional. Stepfanee shuddered and Rieshahrd dropped his hands.
“What are you—“ Stepfanee noticed a security guard run up the walking sidewalk and cut off, staring. To her surprise, he stopped in front of her.
“Is this man bothering you, ma’m?” The guard asked in a monotone. Snoresville. He should really get a voice mod.
“Yeah, he’s, like, talking to me about the past and stuff. It makes me feel weird.” Stepfanee said after a minute’s consideration.
Stepfanee felt uncomfortable watching Rieshahrd grappling with the guard, what with him screaming her name and so on, so she went back to her soap. Phloughraunce had just had his emotions re-wired when she heard a faint noise in the background, like a gunshot. Luckily, the sidewalk had just reached her office then and sent her a ping! warning to step off, so she didn’t have to think about that.
Now she could focus on what really mattered, thank goodness.


  1. Wowie wow, wow! I loved this! When does your book come out so I can be your number one fan?!