Electric Shinigami (1)

Electric Shinigami (1)

Part 2 – Interceptor


PART 1:

Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo

F***. I’ll miss you. Oz mumbled around his mouthful of Al-Capone Pizza. He wiped the grease from his mouth with his sleeve. He toasted the city with the rest of the slice in his hand. …Maybe.

He has been on the roof all evening, to watch his last sunset. He let Izanami record all his visual input. Every bit of visual and sensorial memory was important. He was going to be home-sick, he supposed. Everyone was, at least, that was, what they had told him.

Why so serious? Isn’t this what you wanted? Izanami whispered into his ear from his new Uplink implant. He still had to get used to the vision tracking commands, so he wouldn’t zoom in on a passing bottle fly, or falling pigeon poop. If he wanted, he could count the hairs on a mosquito leg, but who would want that? Continue reading “Electric Shinigami (1)”

Electric Shinigami (2)

Electric Shinigami (2)

Part 1: Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo


PART 2

INTERCEPTOR

This April evening darkness came early. It was hardly past 5 pm and Newport City didn’t stand a chance, engulfed by a tidal wave of flickering electric light, mist and a gentle rain.

The big ads on the skyscrapers flared to life, bathing the windows in neon blue, bright green and crimson. The street lights flashed, blinked and faded away, only to restart in less than half a minute.

Oz moved through his empty apartment without making light. Not that he would have needed light ever again… His new prosthetic eyes automatically switched to night vision, showing him his empty apartment as shabby as it felt to him now. Continue reading “Electric Shinigami (2)”

good advice

It’s no fun, being dragged behind a car at breakneck speed.

Just in case you were wondering, or planning on doing it… DON’T!

Half of the time you try to dodge stones and sharp rocks, and you try not to get too close to the tires of the following car, for obvious reasons. The other half, you try not to swallow too much dirt and fumes, so you won’t get dizzy. You have no time to enjoy the view. Besides, it’s most likely, that some moon tanned idiots scream profanities at you; all seven of them at once. This makes it even harder not to damage anything vitally important, like head, neck, spine, hands, or eyes. God of skull integrity, stay with me!

Some of those volume bloated harsh statements about your family and your origin are pure fiction and wishful thinking. Their promises of where which of their and your body parts will go, is mildly off-putting and fly off of the politeness chart. The newly imprinted courtesy protocol in your neural language hub does its best to bleep the sense out of words lodging themselves into your auditory canal. Thank you, universal translator. Well done, courtesy protocol.

So, how did I get myself tied up and dragged behind a car, you ask? Not on purpose. I’m not that crazy, despite the gossip – I swear. It chalks up to being at the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m the odd one out, not fast enough to hide in the nooks and crannies of my gallery, down in sub-level five.

It’s questioning from the lunatics’ point of view. It’s a full grown lynch mob, if you ask me. But no one ever does.

med bay snippets #2

The soft purring of the monitoring alarm on my watch wakes me, by vibrating. I’m up…

I tell the watch and it recognizes my voice. The command kills the alarm.

Sleeping at the med bay is seldom a good idea, and sleeping at a working station – uh, table – is downright irresponsible. I rub my face into some kind of wakefulness and wish I could rub my back into a painless state. Continue reading “med bay snippets #2”

med bay snippets #1

I look at my bandaged hand in the unnatural green light of the exam room. Nasty… That’s what I would say, if my mouth would do its job. Lips and tongue are swelling and numb. I try not to be too suspicious by licking them. I bet, if you eat a swarm of angry hornets, it would feel the same. Not the regular ones, but the big, Japanese ones, with mean attitude.

Continue reading “med bay snippets #1”

premium gold valentine’s day package

This is the first draft for a submission. ’bout 300 words, sci-fi, the spirit of Valentine’s Day should be present. But…well, I dunno. Any thoughts?

1) Test customer

„I’m not made to understand. Natsume. Kun. I’m made to be in love with.“ She giggles with her mellow voice.

„This is true.“ Sweet dialogue design. Five stars. I note on the life review feed. My follower number jumps above 50 k. Nice! I sip my drink. The rich dark scent of warm cocoa floods my palate, texture delightfully creamy. Hot chocolate. Like, no- better heart. Four stars. Her voice hub designer is an artist. Voice hub design: five stars. I bet she could purr me to satisfaction. A very pleasant picture of the Valentine Goddess. 

The waitress, dressed as a maiden, brings us a piece of  strawberry velvet cake, made to look like a cartoon heart. „I’m sorry to have kept you. The love special, for our lovers.  Best wishes from the staff at Valentine Goddess Maiden Cafe Ueno.“ She chirps heartwarmingly and bows. They should cut the adds. After all, this is just a Cafe with companion androids.

„This is my favorite! How did you know?“ My Valentine Goddess asks with astonishment. Her surprise is programmed with brows shooting up, bright flashy smile, wet glistening in her dark blue eyes. Facial expressions pretty basic, a bit overdone. They call this high facial expression mode. 

„It’s my favorite too.“ I beam at her. She gasps.

„No way! This is fate! We are made for each other!“ A bit pathetic, but men will go crazy. It’d be charming if she could eat though… I look at the display of my mobile. Fifteen minutes left with my Valentine Goddess.

At the base of my iView screen in my glasses, my bank account shows a fat plus of 70 000 Yen. Not bad for ten minutes work.

Money and Media

Money and Media

Money is one sinister god I used to prayed to

Me, the kid with the broken heart and  faulty hue

Struck by the currency of freedom and power,

It’s not my  conscience, but my hands I scour

That’s me, on the day I was born, with a black halo

eager to meet my  maker,  without value or credo

In the night, I dream of  ‚never enoughs‘

I dare you, try’n grab me by my scruff

My god grants, gives, takes and demands

I refused and he took me to the  bad lands

 

I’m praying to a different god now,

That’s me, giving her my cash cow –

Me, the sinister kid with the broken briefcase

Smiling, the lens sticking into my happy fat face

promises and cash spilling out, unto the masses

This is me laughing, crawling  to a party of chances

I can’t stop the itching, watch me rehearse bigotry

Media, my goddesses, free me from human dignity


Pic: iStockphoto