Monday 24 June 2013

Sci -fi

(1)


Ion the deep seas…


A fucking waterfall like Niagara falls except bigger than the sky at night, Third Great Cultural leap forward Population levels tripled and life expectancy reached almost 150, the last 50 years were crippled voyeurism, millions opted for euthanasia.
An enormous space vessel was built, a thousand zetas litres in length, a shadow hanging over and darkening; a new and ominous man made moon.
They selected sent the poor, the unwashed, the filthy beggars and thieves, those who stole bread to eat. They rounded them up and organised and catalogued them as cargo on a ship, with ten thousand volunteers from the ranks of scientists, politicians, and other successful types.
Five billion soles and they catapulted them into space. Sleeping in their final sepulchre, their tomb of ashen metal, with only a sensor to find some purchase to cling upon the hope of water.
Space must be made here on earth, resources are strained. There is no more space in the oceans, we cannot plant any more algae, perhaps this is a kinder fate than to let them starve, and we have plans for the future. This ship is perhaps the first of many, there are too many people and this is the most humane solution
Many on earth tracked its course as it left the solar system, its flames fading, detaching its rockets, its butterfly wings spreading, stretching out, pure white sails catching a zephyr of light, and slow burning radiation particles.
Long years passed, and it was noted, however, no word or sign came of its fate, if they sleep forever let them be testament to our passing as time ends.

ii)

The ocean of space,
Sensors had fired, detecting ice in the deep gloom.

The trigger switched, the lights flicked on, they awoke in the seep, drifting from their long entombed sleep, retching and coughing slouching in their chemical soup, the droop of their spine, and pale white skin – far-sight in long unblinking eyes,
And looked around to see this mighty tomb, stretching deep to the roof, under white lights, bright, searing sight,
Row, upon row, of Row, upon row, stretching from wall to wall, and the computer had decided let there be life. Small speakers sounded in the silence of their new found awareness, Osmosis, Memories, and Water
The ruling class were woken first. There task was to organise the new civilization. They were Engineers and Scientists. They calculated that the ice on the asteroid was insubstantial to support the cargo. Therefore they decided to build a fleet of ten thousand ships by deconstructing the vessel. When the ships were completed they would revitalise the cargo. Quantities of Algae, Iron, steel and Magnesium had been stored. They would use Oxygen as fuel, distilling liquid oxygen from the Ice on the Asteroid.
Each spaceship was given a certain amount of fuel, however, a great despair was upon them for they had no real means to explore into space, and they knew not which way to go. This was their truest and most noble sacrifice, a Darwinian surge of Fatalism, if they had regarded themselves as elite and had chosen to use this ice only to live to deep old age, and let this deep slumber continue, millions would have slept I limbo for eternity.
Thus as appointed, the cargo was revitalised and were told of this hopeless task at hand, and some wept and laughed for what fear of death or sleep could evade them now, at this final chance.
Twenty years - the great awakening, dismantling, and building of this great venture. For twenty years they sailed lost into space and they found bloated planets and piercing stars and did despair, chance is the fancies of a mere child, and the doom of these people was at hand, for harshness they find here, some bacteria hatched in some misspent soup, scavengers on the scrap we leave behind. Jet-flames die, wink and stutter into cannibalism, drifting on their course, only fuel enough to stop and humanity flounders here in the deep unknown.
We had watched this and we were puzzled, puzzled at the iniquity of this people doomed as an abstraction upon our great desire, and design had decided simply to extract themselves from their little womb and grow something to early maturity, had deigned to break free and journey such, and we were puzzled and decided they must die.
An old man mutters,
“Wreckage- glorified after-birth, convulsions of Stars and cosmic mist, the convoluted rage of Chorus and Ra’ persuade us of their munificence, exalted they tower imponderable, sickening in their silence, they always evade this time, and I am nothing in their echoing crescendo of light.
Surrounding and stupefying me with their imponderable meaninglessness.
Orion flagrant and unjustified, espouses no greater heart than Ophelia,
An explosion rumbles in the distance,
Carnage of light echoing into the universe
Immensity……………………………
Constant and unintelligible, all things surround me, infinitesimal,

Occiouipia, cornocopoiacia – Ieduist.
            Infinatum Dominus.
            Donimatafous.

Deep pining in the subconscious ………………………………………..”

Then hearing this she had gone among them in the early morning, dressed in light and sound; as beautiful as perfection is imitation and as warm as the light of life.
A small child noticed her,
“Small child, remember this, tell your learned fathers that you know the way”
Then pointing the way deep into space, and the small child knew and understood;
this was our  wisdom, chariots of fire, thundering hoofs in the distance, a mighty horn sounds, lightning scars the skies and I see blazing eyes of fire in the deep night,
Lo’ the small child went to the learned father of the ships and said
“I know the way, show me thy sails and I will guide thee like the wind, “
Taken aback were they by this great and ancient wisdom and memory in their heart’s, for know they remerged Earth in their heads, and deep was their sadness, and deep was their despair at the endless night alas round them.
All the ships were lost except the one with the small child, the small child who was now a man, for she kept them under some god-like murk, to hide from the scavengers of perception, those designed to purge this great whole of bacteria and all those who chew upon energy.

‘Kept the saints in the darkening doom, face beyond the dreaming gloom, sorrowful faces follow, and my sadness is complete, Sensuality which is yours, is now a memory for me, And I am lost without you, in all your shapes and guises, Seldom could I pin a sense upon your sweet Curves, Spin inquisitiveness too strong a taste upon my tongues,
For me to forget unfailing sentience, unless it falls from my fading eyes, Sentiment departs unwilling beyond mine sight, what ears to hear your wedging sleight?
Upon what venture do you lead us here, through darkness night and despair, yet still I see your slender body,  Cast a flesh and light warm about me as here I struggle, Lost and dying in the endless swallowing night, a blight upon My eyes, your beauty always is, for the stars wheel about my head and Way is set, mine eyes remember the charts and the ways which I was Told to go in your black eyes, what do I see but beautiful Bairns with blonde hair, Looking back at me, through the frosted glass of time, icicles that a wear like Crown which binds me to my duties, and my fancies are few and what if
Derelicts despair of the dawn and the quiet of the sombre morn To water we venture through these drifts of time Cornucopia, avid Vitas Vainglorious, Decadence, Seduces me unfailingly, and I know the time and the date, For such is my purpose, to be touched by such wonder as yours and What if I love is nothing more than a ghost to me,”

She smiled at the gentleness of these people, her energy in the deep satyrs,
“Sleep Sailor, dream of the deep, I am the light and the whole” And she lay with him. Whispering in his sleeping ear,
“An old man claws at my knee and wants to speak with you, and my father pays you little heed, for no loyalty you have paid to him, and his brother sends you along paths to meet his other brother, I will not confuse with Hennaed. Such is the way with us. Your energy, subdues us to nothing and creates us paranormal in the Satyrs of the sky, ravaged and beautiful,
I am a friendly spirit that guides you to some sparse humility and chance for what is ache? A thing for us exiled from your people Aeons ago, we are the just and the fast, cast the dice, thrice, and every number read thee.
Strange paths are conjured by the wise, for your kind to find; still we know that all is flux. Fluid is your matter, but fixed is your mind. The paths we set for you to find in the deep darkness, which is our witless design, or do you feign to find ourselves privileged unbecoming in the great unknown, some ancient and silent witness that is the gift of our attention.”

And Lo’ her winds send them to water, and the young boy was now an old man as the first plastic dome was built upon the asteroid.

And the Great Quasar acquiesced,

Vacuous Externalism Bound Centimetre
Concert Valid, Concavity radium,
Slower pathogens off Circumferences cross.
Liberty Cornucopia avarice,
            Constellation
The sun has fallen from the sky
Acquiesce
Adriatic
Pacific
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