Tag: science fiction

Breaking Eggs

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Doctor Odd held the eggs against the phase-regulated vacuum pump and flipped the switch.
“Watch!” he yelled.
The eggs vibrated for a moment, glowed red, and then their insides dropped into the skillet below.
“Success,” said Odd, inspecting the shells.
Not a crack.
“You can’t do this!” shouted his assistant. “This is madness! You cannot make an omelet without breaking a few eggs!”
“You’re right,” said Odd, looking at the bubbling eggy goop in the frying pan.
“Thank God you came to your senses, Doctor,” said his assistant.
“What was I thinking?” said Doctor Odd. “It needs peppers and mushrooms!”

The Box

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I see you like the box. Would you like to know what it does?
Press the button once, and the box will buzz.
Press the button two times, and the box plays music.
Press the button three times, and the music stops.
Press the button four times, and the box will sparkle with pretty green lights for five seconds.
Press the button five times, and the box will emit a cloud of lemon-scented steam.
Whatever you do, don’t push and hold the button.
What happens? Well, according to my blueprints, the world ends.
Fifty bucks?
You have yourself a box.

Hello, God.

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It was a nice day out until the meteors came.
Or maybe they were asteroids. Or comets.
I have no idea. I’m no astronomer.
Big rocks, smashing into the earth. How’s that?
Good.
All I know is that one minute it’s nice and sunny, and the next minute I’m holding my hands to my bloody ears, screaming at the sky.
I think I’m screaming, because I can’t hear myself. My throat is raw and I’m shaking.
And then I stop.
If my ears have blown out, then everybody else’s have.
What’s the point of screaming if nobody can hear you?

Jesse’s Girl

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Ever since he first heard the song, Dr. Odd has been working hard on getting Jesse’s girl for Rick Springfield.
At first, he tried pheromones and hypnosis. That just made her confused and somewhat psychotic.
He considered violently removing Jesse from the picture, but that would just get the girl worried about Jesse.
Finally, he decided cloning was the correct route. Using accelerated growth tanks, he produced a perfect biological replica.
Without any of the emotional or intellectual experience of Jesse’s girl, of course. Her mind was a complete blank.
As for Dr. Odd, well, success hasn’t spoiled him yet.

Let there Be Reboot

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A voice wakes me. Reminds me of The Three AM Cutover.
“Thanks,” I say, and open my bloodshot eyes.
Nobody else is around.
Typical.
Hey, ever notice how the world’s screwed up? Some things just don’t make sense?
We’re fixing that tonight. All of it. One big Cosmic Service Pack.
He only rested on the Seventh Day, you know. Been working up this bug fix ever since then. Explains the absence, No?
It’s coming up on three in the morning. Cutover time. We’re calling it Zero Hour, but three in the morning?
As I said, typical.
I’d better get ready.

Shipping not included

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What is it with people and shopping?
I never understood it when I was little. We’d go to another city and my family would go shopping at franchise stores identical to places back home. Same stuff, different place.
They’d also eat at franchise restaurants exactly like back home. Why not go local?
Seventy years later, and my grandkids visit me here at Tycho Base.
Straight to the mall they bound, Sharper Image and Macy’s. Same crap they have dirtside.
Never mind the huge fees for dropshipping this consumermass from orbit. I think shopping without consciousness or awareness is a compulsion.

Weapon of Mass Hysteria

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“Ladies and gentlemen – observe!”
Doctor Odd wheeled the patient into the gigantic auditorium and began his presentation on the Applied Healing Power Of Laughter.
As the lecture progressed into carefully-orchestrated absurdity, thousands of doctors in the audience began to laugh.
And laugh. And laugh. And laugh.
Soon, the entire audience roared with laughter… into the Sonic Focusing Array!
Doctor Odd turned a few knobs, threw switches, and yelled “Now watch this!”
The patient’s wheelchair shook, glowed blue…
And exploded.
Despite the setback, Doctor Odd still managed to get funding from the Pentagon.
Weapon of mass hysteria, they called it.

Trouble With Teddy

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“How on Earth could this happen?” mumbled Arthur.
He read the brochure again:
“The Teddy 3000 is your child’s best friend. Teddy is soft and huggable. Teddy can be used as a floatation device. Teddy has GPS tracking if your child is kidnapped. Teddy is made from 100% recycled materials and is 100% recyclable. Teddy can be used as a breathing mask or emergency environment-proof tent. Teddy knows all your child’s favorite songs.”
Arthur put the brochure down and looked at Teddy.
Teddy stared back.
They both watched powerlessly as Arthur’s daughter played “fort” with the box Teddy came in.

Memorials

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On the tenth anniversary of landing on Pluto, a service was held at Johnson Space Center. Wreaths were laid at the memorial by three widows and an assortment of children.
A few billion miles away, a scene of a different sort stood in the frozen icy wastes. Inside the shuttle-hopper, three statue-like corpses sat for eternity, faces obscured with crystal clouds sprouting from their mouths and nostrils.
In cartoons, underwater characters often exhale bubbles that pop at the surface, releasing the words screamed from below.
Would you hear “What the hell are we doing here?” if the ice were shattered?

ASPCRA

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Remember those robotic dogs that cost thousands of dollars, were a royal bitch to program, and broke easily?
Well, they’ve come out with new versions of the things with additional features, and they cost much less now.
The company started a trade-in program: old dogs for new dogs. I guess you can’t teach an old dog new tricks after all because there’s something in the RAM or firmware or bits and bytes.
Anyway, sometimes those robotic dogs misbehave or get really stubborn, and they get abused. Smacked around. Beaten.
Or worse.
That’s where I come in. I’m with the ASPCRA.