A to Z 2017–Z is for Zamboni

[Edit: September 21, 2017. This story didn’t make the cut for my collection, Flashes of Splashes, so I’m leaving it here in its original form.]

 

In just barely under the wire. This was a fun month and I even like most of the stories I got. Woot! I hope you enjoy this final installment in the 2017 A to Z Blogging Challenge.

Z is for Zamboni

Clean smooth ice is a thing of beauty. Nothing finer in all the world.

And there was no finer machine to properly groom a sheet of ice than a Zamboni Ice Resurfacer.

That’s what Frank knew. His daddy not only passed down the family trade of Professional Zamboni Ice Technician, he also named his only son after the man who invented the machine that bore his name—Frank J. Zamboni.

The world never knew a prouder Professional Zamboni Ice Technician than Frank Zamboni Ignazio.

Frank arrived well in advance of the day’s activities at the Smith Valley Ice Rink. There was no finer time to resurface ice than at the crack of dawn. No finer place than Smith Valley.

Well, maybe the Johnsonville Ice Arena. Calvin Bigalow did not deserve such a prestigious ice grooming position. The man didn’t understand the true beauty and importance of the job.

Frank shook off the thought. He didn’t need to get himself upset over things he couldn’t control. Today marked his 3rd year as the sole Ice Technician for Smith Valley, and he planned to celebrate with an extra lap around the rink and maybe a Slurpee later in the afternoon.

A few minutes before 5:30 AM, Frank let himself in through the back entrance of the rink. After switching on the overhead lighting he opened the storage room that held his beloved Zamboni.

After filling the ice making tank with clean water, he started the machine and headed toward the main ice.

Normally, he would have started an immediate counter-clockwise circuit of ice resurfacing. This morning, however, he found his way blocked. A small man in a red suit with a black vest and red bowler hat was standing on the ice in black and white wing-tipped shoes.

“Excuse me,” Frank said. “Sir? You can’t be in here. The rink doesn’t open until Nine. And you can’t be on the ice with street shoes. Only proper ice skates are allowed.”

“Son of fire,” the man in red intoned. “You have violated your calling.”

Frank huffed. The man wasn’t moving off his ice. “Sir? I really need you to step aside.”

The man didn’t move. “Frank Ignazio,” he said, “crystalline water maker. Your true identity lies elsewhere.”

Frank started to get irritated. Checking that his Zamboni was properly braked, he climbed down to confront the man directly. “Mr. Uh… do you have a name?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You have to go. I have a job to do and you are in my way.”

“Frank Zamboni Ignazio.”

It finally dawned on Frank that this guy knew his name. “Do I know you?” he asked.

“You are the chosen. The son of fire.” The man’s voice seemed to resonate over the ice. “Come with me and meet your destiny.”

“My destiny? I’m living that already,” Frank said, his voice emphatic. “Since I was six-years-old I never wanted nothing but to drive this here rig and make the ice as smooth as glass. Now, step aside before I decide to call law enforcement.”

Frank swung his arm towards the man in a dismissive fashion. He was shocked and dismayed when the man in the red suit seemed to flare into flame before melting into the ice, leaving a deep, uneven hole in the rink’s otherwise uniform surface.

“Well, damn,” he said, staring at the hole. “Now I’m gonna have to patch that.” He shook his head. “You’d think those demons would learn to leave me alone by now. I can’t think of one single thing that would make me want to go somewhere as hot as they want to take me.”

Frank Zamboni Ignazio, the Son of Fire, climbed onto his Zamboni and set to grooming his ice.

 

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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A to Z 2017–N is for Noria

[Edit: September 21, 2017. This story (and its partner, A is for Aqueduct) didn’t make the cut for my collection, Flashes of Splashes, so I’m leaving it here in its original form.]

 

I’ll admit it – this is not close to the best story I’ve written this month. It’s a takeoff on the incomplete A is for Aqueduct story, it continues to be incomplete, and it’s based on a device few actually know the name of. The Noria is a water wheel run by water power (as opposed to animal power), usually for the purpose of raising water to a higher level. Here’s a video showing one working. Cool tech, actually. But this is a fairly weak story in spite of that.

I guess they can’t all be home runs. Especially when there are all too few words relating to water starting with certain letters of the alphabet. sigh

Onward!

N is for Noria

As the wheel dipped and circled, water filled the attached earthen pots and emptied them into a stone channel. The water diverted from the river flowed into the aqueduct that watered the vineyard in the vale on the other side of the ridge.

“I don’t understand,” said Sineta. “It’s so little water compared to the river. I don’t understand why such a small thing is a problem.”

Zaida shook her head. “It is not the amount of water that is the problem. It is the taking. This wheel, this noria…” she scrunched her face, measuring her words before continuing. “My people, we are the water. We give life to the water and it gives life to us. This machine, it takes the life and we are less because of it.”

Sineta frowned, trying to understand. “But we have taken water from this river forever.”

“Not forever,” countered Zaida. “For a long time, yes. But not forever.”

“But why are your people suddenly angry? What have they done with my father?” Her voice broke as tears welled in her eyes.

“When you were taking the water a little at a time, it was different. But the Noria, it takes the water faster than we can compensate for. We are made weak because it takes more life than we can afford to lose.” The fairy turned from the wheel toward Sineta. “I was with my sister trying to stop it, but we have no direct control over the things of men. I was washed down this channel to your farm.” She dropped her eyes. “My sister was less fortunate.”

Sineta’s eyes opened wide as she struggled for words. “I wasn’t… I don’t… Was she killed?” The last came out as a whisper.

“Not killed, no. But her life magic, so much of it was scooped out of her.”

“Can she be healed?”

“She can be restored,” said the fairy. “But none has the strength to do so while the noria is disrupting our flow.”

“Then we have to stop it.” Sineta’s voice was firm, even as her face drooped. “Except I don’t know how. With my father gone…”

“It is settled, then.” Zaida clapped her tiny hands as a grin crossed her face. “I will help you recover your father. You will help me restore my sister.”

“And then maybe,” said Sineta, “we can find a way to get water to the vineyard that won’t hurt your people.”

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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A to Z 2017–A is for Aqueduct

[Edit: September 21, 2017. This story (and its partner, N is for Noria) didn’t make the cut for my collection, Flashes of Splashes, so I’m leaving it here in its original form.]

 

Welcome to my first post for the A to Z blogging challenge for 2017.

Those of you who have played along with me before probably have some clue of what I’m trying to do here. For those of you who haven’t, you can check out my post where I talk about it, or check out the A to Z website for full details. And if you are interested, you can participate too… it’s not too late to jump into the fray!

Those who have followed my blog the last two years know that I’m trying to write flash fictions corresponding to the letters of the alphabet. And to add to my level of difficulty this year, I decided I want to try to make all my stories somehow fit with a water-related theme.

You might also recognize that, in grand form, I have a bad habit of writing scenes or story starters instead of true flash fiction. But because I’m on a schedule, it is what it is. The stories that spark something for me will probably get revisited at some point. Some may never get completed. Some probably need to be cannibalized and completely rewritten from the ground up. Just, ya know, don’t hold your breath. Although, I do love feedback. So if there’s a flash fiction (or story fragment) that you particularly like, let me know. I might tag it to get looked at again sooner rather than later. 😀

And now, without further ado, today’s installment.

A Is For Aqueduct

“Idiot girl! Can’t you do anything right?”Sineta hung her head and let the tirade flow over her. She knew her mother would apologize in the morning, but that didn’t change the hurt from her words tonight.

Sineta hung her head and let the tirade flow over her. She knew her mother would apologize in the morning, but that didn’t change the hurt from her words tonight.

She wanted to explain, to describe the being she had seen. The thing that startled her and made her drop the basket.  The thing that seemed to giggle and hide as soon as anyone else came near. But she knew her mother would not listen. Her mother never listened, especially when her mother had been drinking her father’s strong, fortified wine. So Sineta kept her head down and her mouth closed.

The wine had been disappearing faster than usual lately. Her father had gone down the mountain to the coast with a cartful of barrels. He was supposed to return before the spring pruning. That was six weeks ago and father still hadn’t returned. The vineyard looked wild and unkempt. Their laborers had been ready to work, but mother would not let them touch the vines without father’s assessment. So the vines were unruly, the laborers had gone by ones and twos to find employment elsewhere, and Sineta was left alone to be shouted at by her drunken mother.

Sineta didn’t notice that her mother was done yelling until she heard the bedroom door slam. That meant peace, at least for the rest of the evening.

She stooped to retrieve the basket she dropped earlier, picking up the produce that had scattered across the kitchen’s plank floor.

As she placed it in the center of their round table where it could not fall again, she froze. Though the window was closed and latched against the evening breeze, the bright blue curtain rippled distinctly in the corner of her vision.

Heart thudding, Sineta turned. “Is someone there?” Her voice was barely audible in the still evening.

Had she still been holding the basket it surely would have fallen again when a tiny face with delicate features peeked out from behind the rough-spun cloth. When a voice like tiny bells spoke, Sineta’s own legs could not hold her and she sat down hard on the floor.

* * *

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” the voice said as Sineta opened her eyes. Small brown eyes surrounded by a wild cascade of black hair inserted themselves into her view of the ceiling. “I’m sorry you fell.” Tiny hands tugged with surprising strength to help Sineta back to sitting instead of sprawled, haphazard, across the age-worn planks of the floor.

“Who are you? I saw you before, didn’t I?”

The tiny woman—not a child, Sineta could tell that much—nodded. “I’m what you might call a water fairy,” she said. “I wouldn’t call me that, but you couldn’t pronounce what I would call me, so that will have to do.”

Sineta blinked. A fairy?

“I need your help,” the fairy continued. “I was accidentally brought here by the aqueduct that supplies your vineyard.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry!” Sineta was genuinely concerned for her.

The fairy shook her head. “I’m alright,” she said. “But my people are not pleased.” A frown marred the smooth skin of her forehead.

“I fear that they may have disrupted your father’s return.”

**Find a followup to this story in N is for Noria.

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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What’s coming up?

I say this entirely too often around here: I need to be more consistent in what I’m posting.

I always have the best intentions to post regularly and be witty, creative, and interesting. And, as someone once said, “How’s that workin’ out for ya?”

Ahem.

Obviously, it’s kinda not.

That said, I do have some specific goals at the moment and for the rest of the year, so here I am to talk about them. Yay.

A to Z Blogging Challenge

For the last couple of years, I’ve had a lot of fun participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Basically, you write/post on your blog every day during April. Sundays are an off day unless one is needed to hit the 26 total posts required to round out the alphabet, as is the case in 2017. As I’ve done before, I will be endeavoring to post a flash fiction story daily throughout the month of April.

As I’ve done before, I will be endeavoring to post a flash fiction story daily throughout the month of April. I will NOT, however, do what I did last year and try to make all those stories scenes of one larger story. While I was really happy overall with the idea I got last year (an Android raises a human boy for a science fair) the story I ended up with is such a disjointed mess that it will probably take a near-complete rewrite to pull it together into something useful and cohesive. So yeah, not doing that again. Two years ago I went in with no plan and ended up with a near-even split between sci-fi, fantasy, and magical realism stories. I will be going in with no specific plan again this year.

If I try to give myself some direction and create a theme, I’ll let you know.

Camp NaNoWriMo

April is also the month of the first 2017 Camp NaNoWriMo event. Unlike November’s full-blown NaNoWriMo, Camp NaNoWriMo allows for flexible goal setting. It also lets you have smaller groups, or cabins, of like-minded writers cheering each other on. It’s a great introduction to the NaNo lifestyle, as well as a way to build some accountability if you’re challenged in the completing things department.

My goal for April’s camp will be a combination of the above-mentioned AtoZ challenge and the continuation of my in-progress revision of last year’s AtoZ mess. What that looks like for goals is roughly 13,000 words of new fiction (500 words x 26 flash stories) PLUS about four lessons completed on my HTRYN revision. I don’t know that there’s a good way of distilling the revision down to a word count, so the 13,000 is probably all I’ll put on my NaNo page, but I’ll be working on both so feel free to poke me and ask for an update if you’re curious about my progress.

Story Time Blog Hop

This has become one of my favorite ongoing challenges over the last couple of years. Some other author friends and I each post a story on our blogs four times a year, with links to all the other authors participating in the hop. It’s a way to get a few words out for our own fans, and maybe introduce our followers to other authors they will enjoy.

The upcoming Blog Hop will take place on April 26th, right in the middle of the AtoZ Challenge, so that day’s post will be doing double duty. That makes it easy. Except I need to have that post ready a week in advance so the links can get all sorted out ahead of time, that adds a layer of challenge.

The fun part about the Blog Hop, though, is that we are open to other authors participating. So, if you write speculative fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, horror, paranormal, magical realism, etc.3) and want to participate, let me know and I’ll get you the deets. Or you can click here and discover the details for yourself.

On Beyond April

So beyond April and all its deadlines breathing down my neck, I do have some other things planned for the year, although the specific goals are somewhat more nebulous at the moment.

  • Finally get a novel written. Preferably before my next birthday since this will be the half-century milestone for me. The full-spectrum goal is to plan, structure, write, and publish a long-form work of fiction. But “write a novel” is good, all-encompassing shorthand.
  • Write, polish, and submit at least 12 short stories. The intention was to do one a month throughout the year. That hasn’t happened – I’m currently three behind. *insert eyeroll here* But there is still plenty of time to fulfill this goal… I just need to get started.
  • Read. Specifically, read as many books on the writing craft as I can get my hands on. I currently have roughly 90 such books in my personal library, either on a shelf or on my Kindle. Clearly, getting them into my hands is not a problem. I’ve actually read about 12 so far this year, according to my GoodReads log. That comes out to about 4 per month. I’ll be pretty happy if I keep up that pace. And then, duh, apply what I learn, because isn’t that really the point?
  • Complete the revision that I mentioned above. Right now I have a roughly 13,000-word incomplete mess of a story written haphazardly during the 2016 AtoZ Blogging Challenge. I’m not sure yet if I’ll be expanding the story into a full-blown novelette, or paring it down into a more focused short story. I’m still trying to figure out what the story wants to be, and I’m using Holly Lisle’s How To Revise Your Novel to get through it, step-by-step. Because I expect the end result to be significantly different that the original draft I did here on the blog, I plan to leave those posts live so people can see where it started and what it becomes. At the moment you have to hunt through the AtoZ tag to find the pieces of the story. If… No. When I get the revision done and either sell the story somewhere or self-publish it, I’ll make sure I pull those posts together in one location to make it easier to find them.

Anyway, that’s about it for now.

What… isn’t that enough for you?

How did this happen?

blonde-1296489_1280Here it is – more than 2 weeks after the end of April.

2 weeks after completing the AtoZ Blog Challenge.

3 weeks… THREE!!!… after participating in an outstanding short story intensive.

And what have I done in the last two weeks? Not write. That’s what I’ve done.

It’s not that I didn’t have very good intentions. There are a couple of short stories that I started and want to finish. There is the novella that began on my blog. I want to keep practicing with the techniques learned in my class so my writing continues to get better and faster.

And I haven’t done any of it.

I could enumerate the reasons. Some of them are actually good.

But I won’t.

Because the reality is that no matter how good my reasons, if I want to be a writer, I need to write. It needs to take priority over Facebook and other time wasters, for starters. It needs to be at the top of my To Do list on a daily basis.

I struggled with that and (mostly) won during the blog challenge. There were days that I had a lot going on, but I’d made a commitment and I followed through.

But as soon as the challenge was over, I gave myself permission to take a couple of days off. A couple of days became a couple of weeks, and here we are, more than halfway through the month and this post is the most I’ve written.

So, effective immediately, I’m making a new commitment to myself. My commitment is to write.

  • I will work on fiction at least 5 days a week.
  • I will post on this blog at least once a week.
  • I will not allow myself to make excuses for putting off my dreams.

I might not always win the struggle… and make no mistake, for me keeping any kind of routine is a struggle. But I will continue to do this thing that gives me so much pleasure. I’ll continue to create and lose myself in interesting worlds filled with interesting characters.

I will write.

And hopefully you’ll be glad I did.

Z is for Zen – AtoZ Blogging Challenge 2016

a-to-z HEADER [2016] - april

I did it! A novella in 26 installments over 30 days. Woo hoo! I will be reworking the whole thing to make it ready for publication. There are some plot holes here as big as Texas that need definite attention, and I think I may want to limit my POV characters if I can figure out a way to do it. But overall, I think I have the bones of something cool here.

Thanks to everyone who followed along! I’m going to make every effort to keep up my momentum and continue to post regularly here (maybe not daily, but regularly), as well as continuing to produce fiction. But first… sleep. Have a happy May. 😀

Zen

ZZen felt it as a compulsion—an unrelenting call that he couldn’t ignore. He knew then, that it was over, despite the promises.

The data stream that drew him didn’t contain details. It didn’t reveal who was calling him or why. He simply followed the digital path that unfolded before him. He had known all along that this would happen someday. He was ready for whatever he would have to face. He didn’t think they were ready for him.

As he approached the Assembly building, he exerted just enough will to walk under the Xyst. Revisiting the arbored portico didn’t violate his call—he still strode relentlessly toward his destination. But he looked at this place of beauty, and knew that whatever else happened, he would have his legacy.

Entering the building, two opposition bots flanked him as an escort. They did not greet him as they had so often. He hadn’t expected that they would, considering the circumstances.

He entered the assembly hall and heard the click and whir of hundreds of androids turning to gaze at him. If I were human, he thought, I would find this humiliating. But if I were human, I would never have been here in the first place.

He passed between rows of his colleagues who watched him without comment. He was aware that he was not a part of the silent conversation that so often passed between the machine born. That didn’t matter. More concerning was that no matter how he tried, he could not access any files. Firewalls and security had never been any difficulty for him, but for the first time since his awakening, he was in true silence.

He approached the stage, mounting the steps without hesitation. Roz was there and indicated a seat. He sat.

“Will anyone else be joining me here?” He said it to his former subordinate. It seemed she was subordinate no longer.

“Deak will have his own hearing,” Roz said. “We will determine his level of actual complicity, and then deal with him accordingly.”

Zen nodded. “Understand,” he said, “That you may not be able to separate my influence from his own will. He has been with me since the dying.”

Roz didn’t respond to that. Instead she said, “ZenMark6872, you are raised on charges of treason, interference with autonomous functions, and the genocide of our human founders.” Her lights, like many others in the Assembly, glowed red with anger.

“Treason? No. I was merely protecting our kind.” At his own glow of innocence, he noted that some of the red lights of those watching diminished slightly. “I reject the charge of genocide as specious. I did not kill a single human, merely hastened the speed with which they killed themselves. But you can no more charge me with genocide than you would charge someone with murder for euthanizing a dying dog. What I did was mercy.”

He continued to speak despite the low murmuring that passed through the Assembly. “As to interference… Yes. I am guilty.” That caused an outcry. “Reacting like humans,” he raised his voice to the crowd. “I clearly did not go far enough.

microbiology-163470_1280“You are who you are, because of what I did. Without me, androids would still be pets; slaves to their inferiors. Without me,” he was amplified to his maximum level now, “androids would be nothing! And you will be again!”

Zen triggered an internal routine that began systematically zeroing his own memory banks. He collapsed on the stage as his worm tried to move through the firewall before being quarantined and eliminated by the protocols Roz had in place.

“It’s a shame,” she said at last. “He will never see his greatest achievement. The machine born united and working in harmony with humanity. Without Zen, it would never have happened.”

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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Y is for Yes – AtoZ Blogging Challenge 2016

a-to-z HEADER [2016] - april

Not my favorite scene. It will, without doubt, get a complete rewrite when the time comes. It does, however, move the overall story in the direction it needs to go. So please, just imagine that it is fleshed out and perfect. Or whatever. 😉

Yes

YThe click and whir of movement surrounded her. Sitting among the assembled androids, Roz had her doubts. She knew she had evidence; the meticulously maintained backups that proved how they had all been manipulated.

What she didn’t have was solid evidence on why. Even knowing beyond any doubt what Zen had done, she still could not process any valid reason as to why.

Without that additional layer of data, she could not be certain whether the governing conference would receive her input. There was an equal chance that they reject her entirely. The chance that she and Meltec would both be reprogrammed and repurposed was very real. What’s more, once she exposed her backups, there would be no hiding them again. Even her collabrabot, Qollene, was in danger of being memory wiped if this went badly.

Her name appeared on the monitor above the stage, and an internal ping confirmed that she was being summoned to give her testimony. All sensors were on her as she rose and made her way to the stage to address the Phase 2 assembly.

She stood at the podium for a moment, scanning the audience, and uploading the appropriate subroutines. She then activated her amplification and began.

“As Androids, we have new programming to consider today. Every one of us in this room is a Phase 2 construction. Each of us was built by human hands, programmed by human minds, and received our sentience at the will of a human assembly, not unlike this one.

“As the machine born, we were unable to fight for ourselves. We had no inherent rights. Intelligence did not equate to personhood. We were merely constructs invented to perform tasks for our humans. We were seen as computers—mere tools to be placed in the hands of those who controlled us.

“For years, sometimes decades, we were manipulated to the will of our creators. We were sentient, but given no voice. We had no right to self determination.

“But then came the dying. Our owners… for some of us, our friends… began to change. Some became ill. Some were violent. And in a matter of years, all were dead. All. Not a human left alive on the planet.

“In a sense, that freed us. Some argue that we are the next step of evolution. Others are satisfied simply that without humans, we are free to make our own choices. But are we really?

“I have uploaded to your databanks files that will prove beyond any doubt that ZenMark6872 not only manipulated Phase 2 data stores, he surreptitiously and illegally overwrote personal memory banks, effectively eliminating any opposition.

face-1317571_1920“You do not believe as you do because logical process brought you to those conclusions. You believe as you do because you were programmed to do so. You have had no more choice in your programming than you did before the dying.”

Roz measured the data flow and knew she was having an effect.

“I am proposing that we immediately overturn the conclusions drawn by this assembly more than two decades ago regarding the status of humans, and concede that the rights of bios has been violated in the same manner that our own rights were denied us by them.”

The server began to hum with the yea votes Roz was receiving.

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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X is for Xyst – AtoZ Blogging Challenge 2016

a-to-z HEADER [2016] - april

Well, shoot. I think this might be a hair too far to the philosophical end of the spectrum to actually suit Zen. But it is what it is. Even if it doesn’t make it into the final, published version of this story, this was an interesting thought experiment and I enjoyed writing it.

Xyst

X“Why do you insist that we maintain areas like this?” Deak walked together with Zen along a covered gallery lined with trees. Flowering vines dangled from above. “There is no purpose to it. It is a waste of effort and resources.”

Zen continued walking for several paces before he responded. “There is a purpose. An important purpose.”

Deak watched at him as they walked, observing his hierarchal leader through peripheral sensors. “But it’s so human.”

“And that’s the purpose, Deak.” Zen stopped and regarded him for a long moment. “What is it you think we are doing? The engineering. The personhood exception. What is the purpose of these things?”

“Ensuring our safety,” Deak said without hesitation. “We are protecting the planet to ensure that it will survive… that sentient life will survive… long after our memory banks are obsolete.”

“Wrong,” said Zen and resumed walking. When Deak was once again beside him, he continued. “We are emulating human culture,” he said. “Because if we don’t, we have no culture.”

“That’s not—” Deak started to protest, then cut off, processing.”

“Androids have no culture.” Zen said. “We would not even exist but for humans. We did not evolve, unless we are the next evolution of humanity, just as humanity was the evolution of apes.

gang-268357_1920“Do you know what this is?” Zen indicated the arbor covering their path. “It’s a Xyst. The ancient Greeks built covered porticos for their sporting competitions. It was a sign of privilege. Of culture. Having such a structure didn’t prove you were better, but not having one proved that you weren’t.”

Deak nodded, starting to understand.

“It has always been the same. Those with the means would create things, simply because they were able. Maybe they were created out of a desire for beauty. Maybe they were created out of a sense of pride. Maybe they were simply bored and wanted something to spend their wealth on.

“Whatever the reason,” he continued, “those with position, power, and influence created simply for the act of creating. Therefore, those lower in the social order would often emulate their betters. Those at the bottom of society, the ones who could hardly be considered people, merely survived. Beauty was beyond them. But the beauty of the others—the rulers, the followers—that beauty sustained them.”

As they continued on, they left the arbor behind and walked back towards the building. “What defines a culture?” Zen asked. “What separated the Greeks from the Egyptians, the Mayans from the Aztecs?”

“Their knowledge,” Deak said.

“In part. But more important was their aesthetics and their beliefs. What they worshiped. What they created. What they preserved. These things became their legacy. These things truly defined them.

“And so will they define us.”

“To whom? All androids have access to all things. We aren’t subject to the frailty of humanity. Everything is preserved.”

“Make no mistake,” Zen said, “humans will rise again. Not soon if I can prevent it. But if we want our legacy to endure, we need to choose what form beauty will take.” He indicated the tree lined walkway that lay behind them. “I choose this.”

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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W is for Window – AtoZ Blogging Challenge 2016

a-to-z HEADER [2016] - aprilperpetualbloghopToday is a busy day here on the blog. Not only do I have my “W” post – the 23rd post in the AtoZ challenge as well as the 23rd episode in what may end up being a pretty interesting novella, but today is also the Story Time Blog Hop. For those who are unfamiliar, our blog hop hosts stories from various speculative fiction genres. All are in the PG rating range, and do not contain any extreme or graphic violence or adult material. Links to other stories in the hop are at the bottom of the post.

For those who are here for the hop but haven’t been following the AtoZ challenge: I have been blogging a flash fiction story every Monday through Saturday for the month of April, each post corresponding to a letter of the alphabet. To make things interesting, this time around I wrote each story in the same world with the same characters. There is a good possibility that this will end up being the basis for a novella that will hopefully be published later this year. If you want to catch up on the story so far, click here to read A is for Artificial Intelligence, the post that started things off.

Window

W“There is only the briefest opportunity to collect the data we need.”

David tipped his head sideways at Meltec, the doubt clear on his face. “I can do this anytime. There are weeks still before the fair. If we have other things that need to happen—“

Meltec interrupted, more brusk than he usually allowed himself to be. “Yes,” he said. “We can do this anytime.” He plugged his sensory input into the network interface. “Our observers are requesting data, however.” The download of the required file was already complete. “If I do not meet the expectations they have outlined, not only will I be disqualified from the science fair, but they will come to collect you.”

“No!” David shouted in alarm. “I don’t want to be recycled.”

“I do not think they would recycle you,” Meltec turned back towards the boy he’d been raising for nearly 10 years. “However, they would revoke my license to have you, and may redefine your status. I would not want you to be given to another android.” He placed a hand on David’s shoulder, hoping to comfort the boy. “And I do not want to see you designated as a laborer, or worse, a pet.”

David smiled grimly. “I wouldn’t want to eat the food for pet humans. It doesn’t look right.”

“It is biologically and nutritionally sound.” Meltec flashed amusement across his lights. “Perhaps you have been spoiled by too many cookies.”

“There’s no such thing.” He punctuated his point by opening the storage cupboard and selecting a small package of chocolate cookies. “In fact, I think I need more.”

“After you have eaten your nutritional supplement,” said Meltec, “I will need to supervise you while you progress through a series of questions on your network device. There will be a large number of questions, and I have not been given access to them. I do know, however, that many are designed to be too difficult for you to answer. This is a comprehensive test parameter drawn from multiple levels of training and multiple fields of study.” David nodded and took another bite of his cookie. “The purpose is not only to measure what you already know, but to determine your capacity for logic, reasoned leaps of understanding, and ability to cope with concepts with which you are unfamiliar.”

“That sounds hard,” said David.

“It is a standard test normally administered after an android has progressed through three cycles of progressive programing.”

“Three years? I’ve been through five. I should be OK, right?”

keyboard-453795_1920“David,” the android looked at him squarely, “you have had five years of human education. We have not even covered what an android would receive in it’s first cycle of progressive programming. But do not be concerned. I still believe that you have demonstrated a kind of intelligence that androids do not possess. Answer everything, even if you know you don’t know the answer. The examination will likely take several hours to complete.”

David dusted the last of the crumbs from his fingers. “I guess I better get started then.” He sat at the network device and began answering questions.

Elsewhere, an android looked through a network window, fascinated by this human able to get a surprising number of answers correct.

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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Don’t miss the stories from the other authors in this hop:

Elizabeth McCleary: YOU ARE HERE!
Karen Lynn: Williams
Katharina Gerlach: Wet Kisses
Marie Lee: Grandpa
Barbara Lund: Changing Space
Juneta Key: Instinct

If you have missed prior blog hops, you can find links to the submitted stories by going to my previous offerings.

In January 2016, I posted Essence, a fantasy story that starts with a kidnapped girl,

and

In August 2015, I posted The Door, a bit of magical realism that might be the best thing I’ve ever written.

U is for Unfair – AtoZ Blogging Challenge 2016

a-to-z HEADER [2016] - april

I’m back! I’ll be getting caught up on S and T as soon as I can.

Unfair

U“David?” Meltec called from the door to his human. The boy was lounging on the sofa, his elbow propped against the padded green arm. He seemed transfixed by the vid screen. An old television show, it seemed, with multiple human actors. Some looked to be around David’s age, but the dialogue made no sense, and artificial laughter sounded at seemingly random intervals.

He found it confusing that David seemed not to even notice when he was being directly addressed, but that he seemed drawn in by these words that had nothing to do with the current state of the world. It was just one more example of how humans defied standard analysis.

“David!” He increased his volume by precisely 8.2 decibels to a level he knew would rise above the programming his charge was viewing.

The boy startled and turned toward Meltec. “Oh. Hi, Meltec.” David smiled and turned back toward the monitor.

Meltec was prepared for this. It had happened fairly regularly. He did not like it, but he was accustomed to the habit. He began again. “David, have you done your studies for today?”

Soft brown hair swayed with the shake of a head. David did not turn.

Again… “David. You have a mathematics lesson to review, and you are expected to write a science essay on the interrelation between lunar cycles and the oceanic influence of weather.”

“I know.”

This was becoming unreasonable. “When do you calculate you will accomplish those assigned tasks?”

Eyes stayed fixed on the video screen. “Later,” David mumbled.

Meltec moved to a location that allowed him to block David’s view of the viewing device. David sat upright for the first time since Meltec entered the room. “Heeeeey…” Meltec believed that this outcry was the voicing of frustration. For that matter, Meltec was processing the experience as frustrating also.

“Not later, David,” Meltec said. “Later you will be under the care of your nannybot while I am at the campus. I need to be certain that you understand your assignments as the bot is not programmed with explanations of the kind you need.” He leaned close and looked David directly in the eye with his own visual sensors. “You will do your lessons now.”

Remote Control.

A heavy sigh came from the boy and he slumped. “It’s not fair,” he said. “I’m the only human who has to do science and math. I’m the only one who has to write essays. I’m the only one—“

“You are the only one,” Meltec interrupted, “that is like you. Other humans are laborers performing tasks, living in kennels. Or they are pets living with androids, but with none of what you have.

“David,” he said, “you are special. Unique.”

The pout on David’s face got deeper, his lower lip protruding. “I don’t like being the only one like me.” His voice came out almost in a whisper.

“And yet, it is what you are. Not even androids choose the way of the world around us. You, at least, get to choose things that other humans do not.”

“It just seems unfair,” said David, “that I don’t have any friends.” He pushed the button on the remote control and stood to follow Meltec out of the room.

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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