Category: Scenes From Unwritten Novels

He moved away from the standing table. Adjusted his translation microphone and began to speak.

“On my planet, in the northerly districts from the manors where I am from, we have a ritual.

On the sixth sun-cycle our progenies accept, what you would call…a pet…a tame animal.

They are accountable for its regular daily wants for a further two sun-cycles. At the precise date of the child’s eighth sun-cycle, a ceremony ensues. The child and the tamed animal, alongside the child’s family and village elders enter a holy ground.

In that arena are armaments and a caged beast.

Individually, with each different child we substitute arms. Perchance an axe, poison, sword and even different creatures. Just so the child cannot prepare. The child is then given a choice.

Euthanize the pet yourself. Or have the beast released and fight for yours and its life.”

“Why are you telling us this?” asked Petr.

“I want you to recognize who you are speaking with. For when it was my day, I asked for the beast. While the cage lifted. I tore into my pet with the dagger offered. Threw its carcass to the side diverting the beast. That is when I lunged for it and thrust the weapon in the back of its hulking neck.  So please, continue you with your negotiations.”

I see you all.  From all angles and perspectives, staring at me.  Flipping the pages back and forth.  Scrolling up or down or left to right.

I have to wonder as I attempt to gaze upon you all…..are you my Deities that I look up, study, attempt to understand and worship? Or in fact, could it be that I….. am your God?

When I entered his emergency room, I did not expect to see what I saw.  I had his Human Resources Manager high pitched nasally voice repeating what just happened with certain snippets spotlighted.

“…..He seems to have had an Episode…..”

“…..He was rather disoriented…..”

“….it appears to be some sort of breakdown….”

I’m embarrassed to admit her continual usage of Ma’am stung and it bothers me still. She couldn’t have been 10 years younger.

I walked in and there he was. Sitting on those very uncomfortable guest chairs that usually accompany a room.  Reading a magazine. Of course, with two gowns on. One over the other to block any opportunity to see his backside, or lack of backside.  Like many persons, he didn’t like those hospital gowns. But he was prudish enough to ask for an extra.

My imagination was expecting restraints, a guard, something.  I hugged and kissed him.

“Gerry? Are you ok? I came over as soon as Linda called me. I’ve been calling and texting”

“I’m good, I’m good, all good. Left the phone at work, sorry” he said calmly.

I took a deep breath. “So, what is going on? Linda said you had an…. episode? Have you been seen? Have they said anything? Are you hurt? Are you….”

“Ah, stop, hold on” He interrupted me. He knew I was spiraling.

“I’m ok. I’ve been…..seen for lack of a better word. But I don’t think they know what to do with me.”

There was a pause. I stared at him waiting. “Are you going to give me the details? Linda said you had a breakdown. What is going on?”

He looked up at me. I was a little scared of what he was going to say next.

“Babe, I’m just going to say what I have to say. Please bear with me, no matter how strange, ok?  Just answer my next few questions, ok?”

“Ok” I replied, terrified of what was to come.

“Can you please spell Label and Michael” He asked.

“What!?!”

“Please just spell those words. Please?”

I covered my face with my hands.

“Please?”

“Label: L-A-B-E-L. OK. Michael: M-I-C-H-A-E-L”

He looked down at his feet and nodded to himself.

“When you type out the word “I’m”, for example…if you were to ask me…Gerry, I’m going to the store, do you need anything?   ….is the “I” in I’m capitalized?

“Yes” I said. “Always.”

He clasped his hands together. Crouched low on the chair. Hands and arms between his legs. He looked up and said.

“Babe. For me…..Label is L-A-B-L-E. Michael is M-I-C-H-E-A-L and I’ve never capitalized the I in I’m. I am not supposed to be here. Here in this universe. This is not my home.”

“What are you saying?” She was panicked…I didn’t introduce this correctly.

“Lauren, I’m saying, I, me, the person, not the new mech-me. I am strong, I’ve figured it out. I won’t let it beat me.” I was pacing, I shook my right hand in the air, I think my lip snarled.

“Sam Sam Sam, you can’t do this to me dropping these….these…. these bombs”

“Not real bombs” I joked. I raised my mech left hand as I showed her my extended pinky and released my empty cyber bomb shells from the tip catching it with my right hand.

“Are you kidding me with this?” She said.

“Physical comedy? What, I’m kidding they were empty shells, c’mon?”

I took a deep breath

“Look. …………All I’m saying is I will not let it take over. I will take over the machine. How do I put this?…..We were trained, moved to believe that they were going to take over that we would become them. It was just assumed, expected, we never had a choice.”

“From the very beginning. How will machines change us…I never believed it. Never did. I have too much faith in humanity, too much faith in me…too much faith in you!  Even if right now this is the first you’ve heard of it and I’m truly sorry I’ve kept this inside.  It’s just that all of the courses and therapy you were going through to prepare for the “new” me.  Look, inside here” I poked at my chest. I winced when the metal clank echoed in the room.

“Inside, I truly understand. I’m going to beat it. It’s not going to change me, I’m going to change it.”

My name is Gerald Etherington the 3rd, Esquire, Online Attorney. Have you ever been harassed whilst enjoying and partaking in an online competition? Shot in a first-person shooter game?

Made to lose:

• opportunities
• lives
• progress/checkpoints
• coins
• points
• and most precious of all, time?

Well, we here at Etherington, Etherington and Etherington feel we can help.

The man admired the view from the westward window, stared back at the empty boardroom with the grand table, looked down and glanced at his pocket watch. 11:55am. The Squirrels were known for doing this this when they were distressed. First, the last-minute rescheduling of the meeting. They moved it from 10:30 to 11:30. Secondly, the delays. The Squirrels recognize that all employees and representatives of Wellington, Wellington & Castillo Human Liaison Agency (WWC HLA) always arrive 15 minutes early to all meetings.

The man did arrive at 11:15 and was left alone in the waiting room with oddly suspect older magazines that might have been found in forests and creeks considering the mess found intertwined between pages.

He was guided to the vacant meeting room at 11:45. In past summits, there were always raw acorns for the Squirrels and some peanuts for Humans. Not today. Acorns only. The man grinned when he observed it. Hoping the security cameras would catch it.

Everyone at WWC HLA knew the Squirrels were dismayed with the Agencies very fruitful new dealings with the Raccoons. Even the very flamboyant and litigious Squirrels understood contracts negotiated in good faith. For a better annual rate, the Squirrels voluntarily removed the non-compete clauses for a number of different species.

The man wondered exactly what was the purpose of this meeting was. Then they walked in. They brought the Flying Squirrels in. They actually did it.

He winced as “it(?)” began to communicate.

……………You behold upon the otherworldly actuality, the constructor of the altogether. I am mutually amid and flow through the boundaries. I am the dignitary both paternal and maternal. The senses of all that is. All perception all consciousness. Dominant and final. The actuality and the unknown, the reaction and the action.

I am exclusive and external. I am awake and lifeless.  I am bliss and abyss. I am the particles, I am your lungful your lifecycle your upcoming your previous. All wholly thanks to myself……………

Jackson ignored the ringing in his ears and the knife-like pain in the base of his neck. He spit to his left.

“Yea, I heard” he said as he pulled the pin on the HyperGrenade.

Men of the sea are the ones who spoke of him most. The stories have been handed down from father to son for generations…the giant, the being who appeared from the deep or descends into the oceans…whose stride is 10 times a normal man, the colossus who walks the equator, the giant man who spins the earth.

Countless believe him to be the Wandering Jew or one of the three Nephites, but these folklores are still trapped in our contemporary “anno domini.”

From the east, some scholars say he was the inspiration for the First Emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang quest for immortality.

Traditional stories declare him to be Atlas and the legends were erroneous. He did not bear the weight of the heavens, he just held the curse of its continuous survival with each step.

Yet, today’s story is not to re-tell the happenings of times past. The tale that wants to be expressed is the day the Giant stopped his long and unending march and turned south.

“Okay Okay Okay.”

“I cannot believe I’m going to say this, haven’t said this since I taught Grade 4D students but …settle down class.”  said Professor Novakovic, with a laugh. He not so secretly loved the organized chaos that was his lectures.

“You should all be ashamed and embarrassed.”

“Yes, looking at you Iceland, all four of 4 of you.” he pointed to the upper left screen.

“Dexter!!…Not you Alabama, Dexter from Samoa…your lips are moving but I can’t hear you. Check your signals.  But hold on, that is actually for the best. Now it’s my turn to actually do my job and speak”

“I appreciate everyone’s enthusiasm, that could have gone worse.  So…. all great ideas, great detail and a lot of you have made very good historically correct points that, yes, all led to the civil war of 2084, but the question was tricky and worded to confuse, it’s what I do, why you love me.”

“I was looking for the initial spark.  So, I present to you this theory.  Historians have discovered and spotlighted the following. Are we ready? I’ve muted you, so nod if you’re ready, ok good “

“Let me get this report on the vapour view……here we go…. Samoa Dexter you have visuals? Good.”

“A proposed, motion, proposed mind you, never came to fruition, but the backlash was still intense, Scholars show this was the initial domino to fall…. This proposed motion was brought forward in the smallest province of Canada, Prince Edward Island. Current population only 2.5 million.”

“Entitled, Advanced Safe Driving, I will ignore the legal mumbo jumbo and get to the meat. This was after the self-driving car scandals of the late 2030’s early 40s.”

“A ban of driving your vehicle while you have a cold due to the potential of a sneeze and the corresponding closing of the driver’s eyes. That is what did it. Learn this word people…you will see it again and again…. overreach”

I rushed over to see Yana being loud with Mnoa while other students gawked.

“You are liar, Mnoa” she said strongly, pointing at him…..Mnoa stood with his arms crossed. I noticed his claws beginning to raise.

Yana was angry, her neck fur lifted through the small divots in her breathing apparatus. I hated when that happened, we all did. We were supposed to get version 76 that corrected this weakness but they were already 20 moons late.

Yana, breathed in and tried to compose herself. “My clan say these are lies, that fundamentalists, like you Mnoa, are spreading about the humans. So, they can still keep them as slaves. Justify their status, keep them down, like your clan has done for decades, Mnoa.”

“What lies?” I asked.

“Mnoa, says the humans used to kill their own babies inside the bellies of the Matties.”

“I’ve seen the pictures and the words, it’s true.” He said.

“You lie.”