Category Archives: Sci-Fi

Tales of Science Fiction

It Could Happen…

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                                                          P.P.R.
     In 1984 in the state of Tennessee, the country’s first privatized jail was born. Since its induction many have asked “Was it worth it?” When the economy began to tank, states turned to privatize jails for their overflow.
    “Human rights groups were constantly up in arms over the treatment of the prisoners.”, said Officer Deardly. “Prison costs were beginning to skyrocket, and the state funds were dwindling. Privatized jails were a perfect solution.”
    Rioting has become a thing of the past. These new privatize jails are equipped with state of the art surveillance and restraint technologies. Pipes equipped to seep nontoxic sleeping gas run throughout the main hallways. The Gas System is installed in all major rooms in the prison.
    When a riot is being detected by the surveillance cameras, disabling nerve gas is pumped through the pipes into the room disabling all prisoners. The system is mostly automated, however guards still monitor the cameras.
    Many human rights activists have petitioned for the closure of many of the country’s privatized jails. Many of the claims lodged in the past have been dismissed. Courts generally rule in favor of the privatized jails, citing laws that protect private companies. However, most of the complaints being lodged now are accusing the privatize jails of becoming forced labor camps.
    At Browning jail, in Texas, prisoners work as farm and ranch hands. The general population in Browning jail seem to be well adjusted. They eat three healthy meals a day, that they had a hand in personally growing. Browning jail started off with one small carrot patch and a couple of sheep. They now plant and harvest enough food to sustain the entire prison from both the ranch and farm.
    While at Browning we met inmate #963056, he was transferred here on a life sentence the day the doors opened at Browning. He knows all the history of this prison and all the ins and outs of daily life on the inside. After his shift at the slaughterhouse we got a chance to speak to him.
    “I’m in for life.” Gregory Sazo Inmate #963056 stated with a smile on his face. “I tell you when they introduced the fact that we could have bacon for breakfast in the mornings. This place lit up! I mean you had inmates whoopin and a’hollerin. Spirits was real high. Then they found out that someone has to slaughter them hogs, and they wasn’t so happy. So many of us seen so much killin’ already, and to know… To know that hog had to die so you could eat some bacon. Well that really brought it home for some of the boys here. Yeah but, not me. And not some of the country folk. It was brought up to the warden, to stop the slaughter of innocence. In the end we ended up killing a lot less hogs, simply because the other inmates wont eat it. They like that with the cows too, and the sheep. So they started shearing the sheep and selling them off for profit.”
    While many privatized jails are touting success stories like Browning, the less talked about prisons are the ones housing the criminally insane. These privatized jail systems treat their inmates like science experiments.
    After trial, psychopaths are loaded up and put in a one room cell, with cameras watching their every move. There are multiple microphones as well, to capture every sound they make. Every angle of the room is covered. They lose their right to any kind of privacy when they committed heinous murder.
    They are given no human contact, meals come in mechanical dumbwaiters to their cell. When the criminal messes up the food mechanism, the room is flooded with sleeping gas so a crew can come in. The criminal will be sedated a second time after they are secured in a straightjacket. Then the inmate is moved to a second room and left there while repairs are being done. The criminals will often awaken during this process, while in the new room. Alone and in a straight jacket, strapped to a gurney. The inmate will be gassed a second time and moved backed into the original cell after the work is completed.
    On occasion a repair will take several days, in which the criminal is normally gassed unconscious and hooked up to an iv and urinary catheter. Every once in a while they will get a criminal who continually destroys the food dispenser and is allowed to starve to death.
    They are studied like rats in a cage, twenty four hours a day everyday. Their every word read, their every drawing psychologically evaluated. They are sometimes rewarded for compliance and good behavior. Sometimes one will be given a room with a window that overlooks a grassy endless field. Another will get a television to control and watch. These too are just so they can be studied in a more relaxed environment. They want to know what makes these monsters to society tick.
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Untitled

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     Three drops of water fell from a light green, weather beaten leaf at eye level.  My eyes focused on it slightly, the blur of the surroundings sharp browns against various greens.  The rain, rhythmically falling all about me.  The feeling of being washed clean.  My eyes set back on the tread pathway, carpeted with brown leaves.  I jerked my dark blue canvas backpack so the weight was mainly on my back, and not my left shoulder.  I began walking forward.
     My thoughts couldn’t stray from the path in front of me, not even to my next destination.  I had no idea where I was heading to, or what situations I might find myself in.  I heard a rustling behind me in the woods.  I looked back but saw nothing, no blur of movement.  No sign anything had been disturbed.  Sometimes the mind plays tricks on you, when you’re alone.  I continued forward.  But this time the rustling was followed by a blur out of the corner of my left eye.  I picked up my pace heading down the path.  A thin wire tripped me, as I started to pull myself up I saw him.  Trim build, with good color, brown hair – meticulously cut military style, and the typical black on grey officers uniform.
     “Don’t feel so bad.” the thin man mocked.
     Two soldiers rushed up on either side of me, carrying semi automatic rifles.  Taking an arm each I was escorted to a iron truck.  The transport for prisoners, and refugees.  After being shoved into the back of the truck, the iron doors swung shut.
     “What is it this time?” an aged man sitting on the far right bench asked.  “Revolution?  Dissatisfaction with your home life?  What?”
     “It was nothing.” I replied.  Keeping my mind clear, I glanced out of the iron bars that served as our air conditioner.  “I’m just a traveler, I like to travel.”
     “You mean, you’re running from something.” he pried.
     “It’s nothing.”  I sat on the bench opposite him.
     “Long ride to Cantonuna.  Hate to pass the time in silence.  If we’re going to die together, isn’t better to get to know each other first?” he smacked his gums slightly as he talked.
     “I can’t talk about what happened to me.” I looked him straight in the eye.  “Because if do it will happen again.  What I am running from is: you, me, everyone, the whole idea of this place…”
     “What will happen again?”
     I crossed my arms and sat back against the wall of the truck.
     “I had a wife and kids, before the war.” he began to reminisce.  “My wife, she was beautiful.”, his eyes misted as he spoke.  “Most beautiful woman in the county, and just as sweet and nice.  Everyone wanted my Caroline.  But she only had eyes for me.  I felt like the luckiest man in the world.   And our kids, our kids were the brightest youngest stars in the sky.”  He sighed for a second then continued, “Then the war came.  Took my kids first, forced to enlist in a losing war.  They died quickly, but more mercilessly than my dear beloved wife.  When they came to take the farm, they gunned her down.  Her, my beauty, my one true love.  I had nothin’ left anymore.” he shrugged.  “Let them take the land, I went willingly.  And now here I am, to be executed, because I’m old.  My reward for living to long. For surviving.  What were you before the war?”
     “Nothing, and I am no one now.”
     “You know, you’re going to die.  Wouldn’t it better to let go of that burden before then.  Make your peace.”
     “My peace?” I shook my head and half laughed.  “This is far from over.  I’m not dead yet.”
     “You’re as good as dead sitting in this truck.”
     “You’re never as good as dead.” I replied seriously.
     As the truck stopped to pitch another felon in the back, I caught a glimpse of a general standing on the street corner.  Observing the whole ordeal, he stood at perfect attention.  Black hair and mustache, slightly overweight.  Spit polised and decorated.  I shrunk back further in the bus to avoid his attention.
     My movement caught his attention, he motioned to the officer in charge.  Slowly the door was opened and he stood watching me.  “Trying to escape again, I see.”  He paused looking me over.  “Send her back to the front.” he stepped away.
     “Well you were right.” the old man gummed.
     I emerged from the truck slowly, “I want this man as my personal valet.”  I pointed to the old man.
     “He is over sixty.” the officer interupted.
     The general straightened himself, “You cause a stir, and expect to be rewarded?”
     “Maybe I caused a stir because I wanted to save this man.”
     The general pondered for a minute.
     “You know I could cause a lot of trouble for you, general…” I fished.
     “Maktok.”
     “A few right placed words, and I…” I shrugged.
     “Let her have him.” the general ordered.
     “But sir!” the officer objected.
     He shook his head and motioned for the officer to realease the old man.
     “You will return then?” General Maktok trusted.
     “Of course.” I replied as I grabbed my backpack from one of the soldiers.  “Come on.”, I turned to the old man.
     After three blocks away the old man approched closer, “I’m Talibus Gwedendel.”
     “I’m getting you to a safe haven, where you will be looked after.” I picked the pace up slightly.
     “What?”
     “Keep silent til we get out of town.” I instructed.  “Once we reach the brook we can rest.”
     After about four hours of solid walking, we reached the brook.  The sweet serene setting, the rain clearing up.  I sat down and pulled open the back pack for some bread and cheese.  Sharing it with Talibus, I started in.  “You need to be in a place where you are loved, and not alone.  Where you can be looked after and cared about.  Not under Jaressus rule.”
     “Who are you?”
     “I’m no one.”
     “The general obeyed your command, you have to be someone.”
     “I’m not anyone important, if that’s what you mean.  I’m not part of the Jaressus army, or employed by their rulers.  But I am persued by them.”  I sat back and took a bite of my lunch.  “They employ psionics, you know that?  To read your thoughts and find your local.  You have to guard your thoughts well.  And your emotions”
     “Why do they hunt you, yet respect you?” he took a sip of water from the brook.
     “I don’t know.” I looked at him plainly.  “And neither do you.”  I finished off the last of my bread and stood up.  “And for the rest of this trip, we neither of us are hunted.  Or wanted.  Or even criminally inclined.  The path we take will be perilsome and full of surprises, do not be surprised.  Do not be shocked at anything you are about to see.  Show no emotion on your face, and hide no thoughts in your mind.  We trek forward, and forward we go.  To a destination we do not know yet.”
     “Understood.” he stood up.
     I glanced at the surroundings and started walking west, away from the towns, away from civilization.  I spotted a broken limb about thirty minutes later, and handed to Talibus.
     With his new walking stick, we were already well on our way.  To break the laws that condemn our nation, to stand up and fight in silence.
     The Jaressus rule has been in force five years, a military based dictatorship.  We were invaded, taken over, and their order now stood in the place of our everything.  Our values, our morals, and even our very lives.  They own all the land, distribute it as they see fit, and take it away as easily.  There is no certainty in life here.  One bad crop could be your death, as well as your entire family’s.  A failed mission, a failed anything…  There is no place for failure.  I believe it is a motto.  The Jaressus rank goes as follows… the dictator – head of the army, the land, the people.  The second in command, the Tar – if the dictator dies, this person takes rule, also they have a say in all matters.
     The Tar is whom I have known, a psionic by the name of Naj.  The most powerful psionic on the planet, quickly rising to his power by use of his abilities.  Seating treachery wherever it would lie, and seeding truths with compromise.  A vile man if ever there was one, deceptive to the core.  His outer shell, the body that encased that cold soul, was so becoming.  He was the dream of all Jaressus supporters.  The women cooed, the men awed.  For the cause he would give his strength to the last ounce, his blood for the glory.  His angelic looks, the sparkling clear eyes, all his clever deception.  And he had his eyes on the throne.  And a throne he did call it, for once he gained power it would change.  No longer the dictatorship, but a monarchy in it’s place.  And for his mate, he chose from a long list of biological samples.  Listings from DNA charts, until he at last found me.
     Forever in the background, I never stood out.  I never strived to stand out.  I did not want his attention, nor anyone else’s.  I wished merely to live out my life in confinement.  You see, when the war broke out I was institutionalized.  I was sitting quite comfortably in a padded cell.  Tucked away neatly from polite society.  Because awaiting the coming war, our nation had decided the best way to keep from getting invaded was to put on a good face.  Their beliefs that the right and upstanding principles that held our nation together would impress our attackers.  We would somehow assimilate them into our own society.  So, all of us deemed different were carted off.  Drugged into complacency, compliments of the state.
     The day he arrived, was no great day.  It never stood out in history.  But I knew when I saw him, why he had come.  To scream or cry out would have been pointless, sedation was always readily available.  I followed him, out past the safe secure walls I had called home for almost a year.
     As deceiving as Naj is, I was locked away in a different kind of cell for the next two months.  A room, inside a stately mansion.  Just another worthless Jaressus conquest.  This house, so steeped in history and beauty.  Uncared for, unnoticed, and unloved.  I was to find comfort in that for that short while. The third month Naj constantly sat observing me.  His eyes never straying from any movement made.  My thoughts, then uncontrolled, betraying me at every turn.  It was a hellish motion the day I refused his advances, but this day was marked in history.  For it was the day that turned the tide.  The day Naj went off on campaign.  Thousands were slaughtered, as he extended the Jaressus reign past the neighboring country.  I was to blame.  Since then it has been a battle, I can only save one.  But he can slaughter thousands.  Still, one saved, one is safe.  One more person he can’t touch, one more just out of his reach.  And it is of no real consequence to me.
     I am taken back to face him, to wait months for the opening for my escape.  I struggle to keep from going back.  And had I been on the execution line, the proceedings would be halted, and the entire regimen of officers present would take my place.  I am above the law, but yet, I am subjected to it far worse.  It is all a facade, well placed and well played out, between Naj and myself.  It is public belief that he and are intimate, in a love that could only complicate matters should the other disappear.  In reality, we are at war.
     Naj’s feelings for me are undisputable, there is no doubt in my mind or his.  His desire and passion is complete, his yearning and want is boundless.  His emotions towards me as a whole seemed to hold no boundaries whatsoever.  There never was any doubt in my mind from the second his eyes met mine.  I knew, nothing would ever change it.  But there was something I knew, things that can’t be changed can at least be shut off.  It would be nothing for him to turn off his human emotions, for he already had that.  His slaughter of lives, he had no feeling towards the dead.  He cares not for my feelings in any manner.  He willingly shut off those emotions, long ago.  But these, that he feels for me, he refuses to relinquish.  This is how the war was started.  Why should I bear his burden?  He and I both know he is fully capable of letting me go.  I am well aware he could focus his intentions on another female, he just happened to pick me.  But even though my logic is sound, he stands to war against me.  So here I am, nothing I can say or do will ever change his mind.
     I resided on that estate for a year before the campaign.  After the first two months of solitude, I went through a month of niceties.  He was – polite, considerate, logical, and non threatening.  And had things continued in his favor, I am sure he still would be.  For there had stood a man who had just taken his light and placed it in front of himself.  And he was marveling at what he considered to be the most perfect creation.  Never taking into consideration, that I would actually use my intellect against him.  Never once taking any thoughts as to my feeling on the matter, or my concerns.  He held me prisoner, I was not allowed to walk the grounds.  I was not allowed to leave my room, the door was shut and locked.  A room with no windows, and two guards posted outside the door.
 
 
     And with every escape, he becomes more knowledgeable of me.  It is a pity one time I will be captured, and escape will never present itself again.  But until that time comes, if it comes, I am still free.

Space Ace and His Back Up Band

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     The space station diner/club was packed for the newest sensation, Space Ace and his Back up Band. Space Ace himself being some self appointed rock Guru of the 29th century, hiding code phrases to self enlightenment in his songs. (Some banned in thirteen different countries in various galaxies.) This was my first time to see his awe inspiring show, I sat in the back of the club, seated in the most hidden of booths. I can see evidence his word has spread out beyond my own galaxy, there are about fifteen different species crowded into this room.
     The lights dimmed.  Slowly the stage lights began to glow making the smoke in the room more apparent. The Back Up Band began with their opening chorus.  On cue Space stood, center stage, as the light shone down directly on him. The words flowed from his lips, he must have done this a thousand times.  It was like a rhythmic trance chanted over and over. He stood as if he wasn’t even here, singing words he knew there were no way we could comprehend.  Words known only to him in the secret places that he goes when no dares to glance his way.
     The crowd took on a different hue as they swayed back and forth, their eyes slightly glazed.  Mesmerized  by the melodic rhythm and melody that now filled their ears and chambers. Once in a while, as if in some sort of cosmic awareness one of the aliens would shout out a single word in perfect unison with the songs’ beat and tempo. Reminding me of some far off long forgotten church. The music seemed endless, I too could feel something luring me to sleep  Not restful sleep, but the relaxation of the mind.  The pleasure of letting go, slipping into the cosmic awareness.
     I blinked my eyes as I glanced up at the stage, the room has become blurry.  The only coherent thing is that his words are constant. Soothing and beckoning me onward into this state of nothingness.  A place I can not afford to go to, but desperately long to go.
     From one to another in no particular order or time, one by one the aliens would take their turn echoing the words of their leader. The waitress now too seemed to be part of the act, picking up the lack in her own voice.
     Space opened his eyes and glanced into the room, at his creation. They loved him, to no END they loved him. Worshiped him, adored him.  Would be his slaves if he so desired. With one exception, in the back.
     I watched him closely, him so aware of me sitting here.  If he only knew I was just like them.  Worshiping him, adoring him, willing to do anything for him, and all for the same reason. Just mine is not forced or lured, it’s true.
     He continued with the next verse, then the next song.  But it would seem like an eternity.  Til finally my eyes would gaze into his…and an inevitable Journey would begin.
 
 
(footnote – i wrote this back in the 90s to a song called “looking for satellites” by david bowie off his earthling album.  i just heard the song and saw this going down.  i posted this story on bowie.net when it first started….back when i could afford to be on bowie net.  i edited it this morning because of the run on sentences, bad grammar, and mixing of second and third with first person.. blah blah tekkie talk make it stop…. enjoy)