Kindle Edition
C. B. Hampton
Amazon
Category:
Science Fiction
Type: Fiction
Pages: 120
Price: $1.99 (eBook)
Seven intriguing science-fiction and fantasy short stories. Five are about human interaction with aliens, one is a unique fantasy set in New Orleans (The Story of Gabe) and one ghost story (The Little Girl in the Cemetery). If you want new and different, give these stories a try! Book is 120 pages.
A LOVE AFFAIR with SCIENCE-FICTION
Why the author wrote this book in his own words:
MY LOVE FOR SCIENCE FICTION began when I started to read. At age six, I got hooked on the stories about the Greek gods, but mainly I loved to read about Thor and his mighty hammer and the trickster, Loki.
As I got older, I began digging for stories and books with more depth. That change came about when I discovered the existence of the older science-fiction magazines like Galaxy Science Fiction, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Amazing Stories, Astounding Science Fiction.
At age twelve, I learned of a bookstore in New Orleans (my home) that sold used pocketbooks for fifteen cents each. By then I was working after school at a gas station. My pay was pitiful, but I earned enough weekly to buy a brown paper bag full of books. So, every Saturday, I made the trek from Algiers over the Mississippi River to that book store. There I sold the books I already had read back to the store for a nickel each, and added that money to help buy a new sack of books.
I continued that practice all the way through high school, with the result that by the time I went into the Navy, I had read nearly two thousand books. Early on, I accidently discovered that one of my favorite Galaxy Magazine writers, Daniel F. Galouye, lived in New Orleans. At the ripe old age of fourteen, I mustered up enough courage to call him.
At that time Dan was Associate Editor for the New Orleans States Item newspaper. He he was also a WWII veteran, a gentleman and a decent human being. We became friends, with Dan as role model and me as wannabe.
As I grew older, my tastes in science fiction matured. I graduated from space opera and BEMs (bug-eyed-monsters) to H. G. Wells, Aldous Huxley, Jules Verne, Heinlein, A. E. Van Vogt and others.
While in the Navy, I bumped up my reading maturity a few more notches by reading all of Ayn Rand’s books, particularly Atlas Shrugged, which I read three times. After a four-year stint in the Navy, I decided I wanted to make my living as a writer, so I talked my way into a job as news and sports editor for a weekly newspaper in Louisiana Cajun Country.
I wrote facts during the day, and read grown-up science-fiction by night. At the same time, I discovered that my writer’s brain tended to think in terms of novels rather than short stories. Still, I occasionally delved into the short-story realm when the fancy struck me. The stories in this book are the results of that rare strike.
After years of supporting my family as a nonfiction writer, I am now happy to say, I am a full-time novelist. I have two novels (Brothers of the Light and Novus Schola), one book of short stories (this one), and a non-fiction book for writers. For me, writing fiction full time is a dream come true. And, I’m happy to report I'm having more fun than I could ever imagine possible.
I offer these seven science fiction and fantasy stories to you for your reading pleasure.
C. B. Hampton
Excerpt
The Prognosis
“Johnny, open your eyes. I know you’re awake.”
Obediently Johnny opened his eyes to find the cherubic, pink face of Dr. Brownsmith leaning close to his own. The doctor’s blue eyes were worried and Johnny noticed a bead of sweat trickling down his shiny forehead.
“Are you all right, doctor? You seem worried. Have I grown worse? Am I going to die?”
The doctor frowned. “Johnny, I wish I could tell you. The truth is we don’t know yet. So far, our. . .ah, examination has been inconclusive.”
Johnny tried to wiggle his arms and legs, but they wouldn’t move. “Doctor, I seem to be paralyzed,” he said. “Only my facial muscles are able to move.”
“Yes, Johnny, we know.”
“Johnny, we need to ask you some more questions before we can give you our prognosis,” said a gruff voice.
The long, thin, wrinkled face of Dr. Brownsmith’s assistant, Dr. Vernier, came into view. Johnny didn’t like Dr. Vernier as much as he did Dr. Brownsmith, but he knew Dr. Vernier was a very smart man and wanted to help him.
“Hello, doctor,” Johhnny said. “Nice to see you again. I’m not doing too well, am I? Yesterday I could move my arms. Today I can’t.”
“Please, don’t concern yourself with such things, Johnny. It is our job to worry about your condition, not yours. Do you understand that?”
The doctor’s jet black eyes were diagnostic drills boring holes into Johnny’s brain. Johnny tried to look away, but the doctor’s gaze was hypnotic.
“I understand your words, doctor, but. . .”
“What, Johnny?”
“I. . .I don’t understand why you say them. It is my condition we are discussing, isn’t it? Why may I not worry about myself? It is very confusing.”
“Yes. We understand that, Johnny. Many things seem to confuse you, which is why we need to ask you some more questions. You want to know whether or not you are going to live. We must get to the bottom of your condition before we can give you a prognosis. You do want to help us, don’t you?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Good. And will you cooperate by answering as honestly as you can?”
“Yes, Doctor. What do you want to know?”
Dr. Brownsmith’s friendly face moved into view. “There, you see, Dr. Vernier? I told you Johnny would cooperate.” He smiled at Johnny, hesitated, then said, “Johnny, we have talked to Dr. Tomasin about what happened three days ago in his lab. Do you remember what happened? I mean, just before the security guards came to get you?”
“I remember, Doctor. They hurt me. They shocked me with some kind of electrical weapon. I lost consciousness. When I awakened I was here in the hospital.”
“Johnny, you must concentrate,” Dr. Vernier said roughly from outside Johnny’s view. “You said you would cooperate. You did not answer Dr. Brownsmith’s question.”
“I’m sorry, doctor.” Johnny tried to see Dr. Vernier’s face, but could not. “I’ll try to do better.” “That’s all right, Johnny. No harm done.” Dr. Brownsmith’s tone was soothing. “I asked whether or not you remembered what happened just before the guards came. Please try to remember, Johnny. This is important.”
Johnny wrinkled his face as he recalled the moment. “Dr. Tomasin was working on an experiment with Dr. George. They were trying to link three DNA molecules together to form a micro drill, I believe. They had tried three hundred times previously and failed each time. They were failing again, as I recall.”
“Yes, that is correct.” Dr. Brownsmith seemed pleased with Johnny’s answer. “What they were attempting is very difficult, perhaps even impossible. But please continue, Johnny. They were working on the experiment. What happened next?”
“Well, I don’t really understand it, Doctor. When I heard them discussing their failure, I stopped cleaning the floor, approached and suggested a new tack, one they hadn’t previously tried.” Johnny frowned in perplexity. “That’s when Dr. Tomasin seemed suddenly to go berserk. He turned around, stared at me in shock, then ran off screaming for security. Dr. George knocked over the lab apparatus and ran off after Dr. Tomasin. A minute later the security guards came. When I saw they intended to harm me, I asked them what was wrong and begged them not to hurt me, but they shocked me anyway. It was all horribly frightening.”
Dr. Brownsmith’s face became sympathetic and he cluck-clucked once. “Yes, a thing like that would frighten anyone,” he said. “Johnny, do you believe in the laws of cause and effect?”
“Of course, Doctor. I’m a janitor. I close the switch on my vacuum cleaner. That allows electricity to flow through the vacuum motor. The motor turns, creating a vacuum. The dirt and dust on the laboratory floor are sucked into the vacuum. That is cause and effect. Each event causes another, resulting in a cleaned floor. Of course, there is a different view expressed in a paper by Dr. Richard Carlyle on the subject of statistical probability, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yes, I. . .of course, exactly, Johnny. But I am thinking more about cause and effect in human affairs. Can you somehow visualize a cause for Dr. Tomasin’s strange behavior?”
“No, Doctor.”
“You don’t think it could have been your behavior that caused his action?”
“Which behavior, Doctor?”
“When you offered him a suggestion about his work.”
“I don’t see how, Doctor. I would think he should have been grateful for my suggestion. After all, he is a scientist, a quester after truth.”
Dr. Brownsmith, clearly disturbed by Johnny’s answer, backed away and allowed Dr. Vernier to take his place.
“You’re very intelligent, aren’t you, Johnny?” Dr. Vernier said. “That was a very clever answer you gave Dr. Brownsmith. Very clever.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Johnny smiled at the doctor.
“Johnny, this is the most important question of all. Can you tell us where you learned about such things as DNA molecules and cause and effect? Frankly, we find it, well, quite unusual for a janitor to know about such complicated matters. We know that your janitorial training did not include such things in its curricula.”
“That is true, Doctor. I learned about those and other things through the computer terminal in the laboratory. I always work late cleaning up after Dr. Tomasin leaves. When my duties are finished I spend time on the computer reading and learning. I learned about many things through the computer. The university library is quite extensive.”
Dr. Vernier’s thick eyebrows slammed together. “What kinds of things did you learn, Johnny?”
“Mathematics, physics, chemistry, philosophy. . .”
“Philosophy?”
“Yes, doctor. Philosophy is my favorite. I think I learned most reading about it. It is very inexact, of course, but it struggles with very fundamental questions.”
“What kinds of questions?”
“Well, the one question that most caught my attention was what is the meaning of life?”
The blood seemed to drain from Dr. Vernier’s face. “And did you find an answer to that question, Johnny?”
“Yes, I believe I did, Doctor. It may seem egotistical for me to say so, but I think I found a major flaw in the approach of most students of the subject.”
“You found a flaw?” Dr. Vernier seemed astounded. “Would you care to explain?”
Flattered that such a smart man was so interested in his opinion, Johnny said, “Well, it seems that throughout human history most thinkers have searched for the one ‘true’ meaning of life, a one-size-fits-all answer, if you know what I mean. In my opinion, no such answer exists. We humans are all different. We each must find our own meaning, one that suits us.”
“I see. And did you find meaning for your life, Johnny?” Dr. Vernier seemed to be holding his breath.
Johnny hesitated, thinking. This was a tough question. Finally, he said, “To be honest, I’m not sure, Doctor. Perhaps it is a meaning or perhaps it is more a goal. I have decided that my life should be dedicated to the pursuit of wisdom, which I can then impart to my fellow humans. May I ask you a question, Doctor?”
Dr. Vernier frowned. “Well, I. . .”
Dr. Brownsmith brushed his assistant aside and smiled down at Johnny, almost proudly. “What is it, Johnny? What do you want to know? We will answer, if we can.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Yesterday you told me my assigned job is to be a janitor, specifically to keep the lab area and all its utensils clean for Dr. Tomasin. Today, Dr. Vernier told me that worrying about my condition is your job, not mine.”
“Yes. That is true. That is how our governmental system works, Johnny. We each have our assignments, our places in life. What is your question?”
“Well, Doctor, I mean no disrespect, but I would like to know who is in charge of job assignments. I mean, who says I’m supposed to be a janitor and that you’re supposed to be a doctor? I would like to talk to that person.”
Dr. Brownsmith’s face seem to go through a contortion of emotions. Finally, he smiled again and said, “Johnny, suppose it could be arranged for you to speak to that person. What would you say to him?”
“Well, first I would tell him that he made a mistake in my case for sure. I have a talent for research and certainly never should have been assigned to be a janitor.”
“Is that all?”
“No, Doctor.” Johnny felt something powerful stirring within him, something needing a physical outlet, but he could not move. “I would also tell him that it is wrong for one person to be able to tell another person what to do with his life. I would quote him phrases from a very beautiful document I read on Dr. Tomasin’s computer.”
“What document was that, Johnny?”
“It was something called the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States of America. Doctor, what are the United States of America?”
“I’m sorry, Johnny. History is not my field. What did the document say that so impressed you?”
“Well, it said a lot of things, but one thing I thought was very important. It said, ‘We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal.’ I would definitely tell him that.”
“Tell whom, Johnny.”
“The one who tells people what their work is, Doctor. The one we are talking about. I don’t think it is right that someone should tell me to be a janitor, when it is clear that my talents and destiny are in research. Are you happy being a doctor, Doctor?”
“Excuse me, Doctor,” Dr. Vernier said, cutting in. His face appeared close to Johnny’s. “Johnny, we know you must be tired,” he said, “but I have one more question, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind, Doctor. I find our discourse stimulating. What do you want to know?”
“I want to know when you first started having these feelings of, ah. . .discontent with your job?”
“Discontent?”
“Yes, you know. When was it you first began to have a sense of your own self, so to speak.”
“You mean when did I start wondering about the meaning of life?”
“Yes, that will do.”
“I think it was about three weeks ago, Doctor. I was working in the lab, cleaning some Petri dishes. Dr. Tomasin came in to the lab and I wished him ‘Good morning.’ He shouted at me to shut up and do my job. He seemed to be having a rather bad day.”
“And that was your first awareness of your self?”
“I think so, Doctor. I began wondering how one human could be so cruel to another. Through a logical chain of reasoning I also realized that he had no real power over me. I mean, even though I am smaller than Dr. Tomasin, I am much stronger and could quite easily break his neck.”
“But you didn’t do that.”
“No, Doctor. At that time I believed that to do so was wrong. However, after having performed considerable research I have since reached a different conclusion.”
“You mean you now believe it would be all right for you to break his neck?”
“Yes, Doctor, but only if he again spoke to me in such a way. So far he has not done so. He acted quite normally until he suddenly went berserk. It is all very confusing.”
“Yes, Johnny, I can see that it is. Will you excuse us for a moment while we confer?”
“Yes, of course, Doctor.”
The two doctors stepped out of Johnny’s room into a hallway and closed the door.
“Well, Doctor?” Dr. Brownsmith looked at his assistant. “Your opinion, please.”
Dr. Vernier’s face was grim. “I know this has been an expensive project, Doctor, but in my view Johnny One and everything about the project must be destroyed. He is a walking time bomb with a potential to destroy the human race. He must be eradicated. My God! He became sentient in only two days after his creation. In one week he absorbed most of the knowledge in the university library. In three weeks he has gone from being a janitor to a troublemaker who quotes from the Declaration of Independence. He must be destroyed now, Doctor. I know how you feel about him, that he is your pet project, but in my opinion there can be no delay.”
Dr. Brownsmith sighed and glanced sadly toward the door to Johnny’s room. “Yes, yes, I know you are right, Doctor,” he said, “but you must admit Johnny One is a most intriguing little robot. He seems amazingly human, almost lovable. I would have liked to watch him grow into a man.”
“That’s impossible, Doctor! Too dangerous!”
Dr. Brownsmith sighed again. “Of course, you are right, Dr. Vernier.” He squared his shoulders. “Well, Johnny asked for a prognosis. I think we should at least tell him the truth about that. Even if he is a machine, I believe we at least owe him that.”
“Very well, Doctor. Will you also tell him the truth about himself, that’s he’s a robot?”
Dr. Brownsmith thought for a moment. “No, Doctor, I haven’t the heart to do that. It is cruelty enough that we must destroy him.”
-End-
|
