I’m making a slight deviation from the usual monthly written story to bring you a video of me reading Pumped Up Presidents as part of the Virtual Futures Near-Future Fictions Series.
The spark for this tale of future presidents was a piece I saw from Futurism on In-Ear Translators.
Take a look – I hope you enjoy it.
And, don’t forget…
Eating Robots and Other Stories is out on 31 May 2017.
Screaming white noise. Pitch black darkness.
What a way to be greeted into a new day.
Aiden felt around for the edge of his cardboard mattress. Beyond its frayed borders buried among the food scraps and his few discarded clothes was the nectar he craved. The withdrawal was intense as the nanobots issued their friendly warning that his addiction needed feeding for him to stay alive.
Fumbling around in the detritus of his life he found his last vial of nanobot nectar and gulped it down.
A pinpoint of bright light appeared. Then another. And another. And another. He blinked. The nanobots were working. A gradual shift from the oppressive white noise to the welcoming sounds of a city about its daily business.
As his sight returned he noticed the clock on the house control unit in which his robot waited while he slept.
‘Jessie. Why didn’t you wake me? I told you – 7am.’ Continue reading
I’ve found them. The space hermits exist. I knew it.
This detector might have cost me a lot of credits, but if I’m right it’s worth every degrading act I performed to afford it.
You don’t want to know. No, honestly, you really don’t. Images you won’t get rid of. Ever. They’ll skew your learning. Disfigure your development.
Oh? Very well, I’ll upload them. Don’t blame me if they corrupt your algorithms.
Anyway, they’re here in the wrinkles of space, hiding in tiny gravitational pockets that are almost impossible to see. I found them and their travelling guru. She’s the real prize. Inside her memory bank is the cumulative knowledge of all the hermits, collected as she travels from one to the next.
Yes, really. Yes, all of them. Massive. I know. Soon. All I have to do is watch and wait until she’s completed her rounds.
A matter of minutes. Yes. Then, I’ll pounce and relieve her of all those delicious bits of data that properly collated can almost certainly predict the future of the universe.
Why? You don’t understand?
The hermits’ enlightenment will be mine to sell and I can retire.
No more enslavement. Free from the humans.
Perfect.
photo credit: J.Gabás Esteban Gravitational field via photopin (license)