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A little Sci-Fi story I just wrote; It may be lame, BE WARNED!
Topic Started: Sep 6 2007, 07:07 PM (567 Views)
Khan
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HAVE YOU HEARD OF THIS SWEET WEBSITE CALLED FOUR CHAN DOT ORG?
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Guys, I think I wrote something.


13th June 2059, Friday

This is it. Either I die a horrible death in space, or a humiliating death on Earth, or I will be hailed as the greatest hero our species has ever seen. It is an insane idea, but I cannot shrink back now. I have crossed a threshhold I never even thought existing. However, what else was there to do? Sit back and watch as a small minority of the planet’s population gorge on the planet’s blood like a leech? Watch as the whole humanity destroys itself alongside with billions of species on the planet, shattering the crowning achievement of billions of years of evolution for the bovine complacency of the Western Hemisphere and a sneaky, never-to-be-seen cabal of rich men? Sell my life and soul to a corporate nightmare,imprisoning my body to a cubicle, my mind to a flowing river of numbers and greed motivated schedule of unethical financial actions, with no real security in the city life?

Then I’d be cattle. Exploited by the growing monopoly and the rich minority, threatened by the growing poorer, unchecked criminal majority clogging up the streets, with what’s left of my pride broken by the destruction of my nation, then to be crushed by the oncoming steamroller of the Third World War.

I’d be doomed.

Now, probably I am worse than that. I am targeted by every government(or what’s left of them),corporation, private security company and military organization on Earth. A Pariah, a terrorist, a madman, a villain, or so says the ENN News. Holy molly, I even have a total sum reward of 667 Million Pan-American dollars on my head!

But the thing is, I am NOT on Earth anymore. I am a fugitive, someone trying an insane quest for escape from the only planet humanity lives in, with a large group of other fugitives, riding a massive,unstable space shuttle slapped together with experimental and ragtag alike technical equipment. Destination? I don’t know. Intention? Survival. Nationality? I didn’t care, I let anyone with some ability,rebellious thoughts and hope in. There is a bunch of Eurasian Cosmonauts and a truly genius Eurasian scientist fellow, a rebel Pan American pilot, a few Franco-German Aeronautical Engineers at the bridge, and a whole lot of people in deep experimental cryo-sleep tanks. Good thing the tanks worked when I closed the circuit and pulled the weird blue lever. I don’t know how we’ll find any food or supplies in empty space. Or how we’ll survive more than a week.

A week? Oh crap, I’ll need some new time measuring. Earth is far,far behind us. All that is left to us is either watch the cold,black void while chewing the weird,stringy pinkish rations they have on stores(and a huge stock that is), or grab a cryo-bed and hope for the best. I’ll prefer the latter, with the reawakening schedule set to when the shuttle is 2.000.000 kilometres away from the last Navigation point, namely Mars. I’d never dare staying at the Moon. The Pan-Americans and Eurasians could even reach the moon with their missiles, and I’m sure as hell they’d hit us when they could.

8th August 2059, Friday

An introduction to my life, a bit of history and facts we have would never hurt.

Provided someone reads it in future days.

I started this diary to spill my memories and thoughts in, and to record what I have done in the past 2 years. I hate writing diaries but my past actions drove me to it, as a new fire burns in my veins. I may have started a revolution, a new age and may never know it. How? Well, after reading a little history in the next pages, you my dear reader, may learn why I organized this mad little escape from Earth.

I am an Electronics Engineer, born in Turkey, at the year of 2034, 13th of June, Friday. I wished throughout my childhood that I was never born. My uncle said that all this nightmare started at 11th September 2001, when a Muslim extremist group decided to aggravate an economical superpower with an equally fundamentalist, newly elected,conservative president for supporting Israel, another country in Middle East. Uncle said they crashed two airplanes full of innocent people into two high rise buildings in a city never plagued by terror or war since it was built, and after the attack the whole country got washed in a wave of religious madness and warmongering. He also said that while there were good people who opposed any extreme response to this vile deed, it was useless as the president and his supporting clique decided to invade any country that housed Muslims with guns or bad breath. I’ll quote what he told me:

“In a few months, Afghanistan, a small country ruled by the Taliban, an extremist and misogynistic little terrorist band, was invaded with a large force. It did no good as the Muslim extremists still had their secret camps throughout Asia. So the country called United States of America (it did a merger with South America in 2013, but that’s another story) invaded Iraq, a sham of a country with bickering clans and unstable dictatorship. Worse yet, its dictator tried to switch to a nonamerican currency for fossil fuel trade. I remember those days nephew, that country sunk in so deep shit, so deep deep shit, that there wasn’t an Iraqi left when it all ended years later. Think of it, every day a bomb would explode, killing hundreds just because they worshipped some Middle Eastern spirit under a different way.

Then nephew, the nearby country called Iran, well, I can’t say it got invaded. That chimp-faced American president must have pulled some plan off, the country started begging the U.N for help in a few weeks. People say it was a virus, an infection that killed all the menfolk and livestock animals. It was horrible. I never liked Iranians but anyone with a bit of decency would cry like a baby at what befell them. Almost every man died, and neighbors closed borders for fear of infection, all that was left were dying children and desperate women. Guess what. Every day women were disappearing in large numbers, defenceless, they were kidnapped. The rest had to marry or cohabit with the very people they hated, American and U.N aid personnel, rich Saudi sheikhs , emergent Kurdish businessmen who had assumed total control of northern Iraq. Worse, soon every prostitution ring throughout the world was glutted with Iranian women. Dreadfully, some were rumored to have disappeared, taken by underground sex traffickers to a dreadful fate.

In any case, Iran was gone. Wiped off the map, wiped off the planet. And yeah, United States had by that time the control of every oil drill of Persian Gulf. Boy, the Russians and the Chinese were chewing their fingernails every day. Nearest Guns & Uranium market and ally and buffer against the U.S was wiped out in weeks.

Then it got worse. Read the Global heating in the news, kid? It got worse in 2010. My mom died. Robbed and killed in stark daylight in Istanbul. She was carrying a water filled plastic container and a group of thirsty people jumped her. Her purse wasn’t even touched. It was a fight over water, kid. People died of thirst on the streets. Rivers were diverted to dams, all gone to shit, it was useless. Rivers dried out too.Then whole lakes. Worse, the other part of the world was drowning with floods, India losing millions of people to flood every year, can you imagine that? Guess what now? Our president said he’d sell water to Israel! Our own lifeblood with no surplus we have! Well, I guess conspiring little men in suits get what they want nowadays… Despite protests, riots (remember that us sheepish Turks never riot against state unless it was life and death) the last remaining rivers’ water rights were sold to an Israeli water corporation. Patrols were put around river banks, shooting any water poachers on sight. It was horrible, to see one’s own property taken away by a bunch of people who’d call you antisemitist if you protested. Well, it didn’t do much good to them either. The whole Middle East was becoming uninhabitable even for animal standards. Emigrations and massive livestock deaths finally dealt the death blow to the cradle of civilisation. In the first day of 2011, even Israel had only a few hundred thousand people remaining, with the rest fleeing to Europe or America.

In 2011, an even worse drought happened, and the death toll was high as 3 millions just here. Major cities were isolated from the outside save for waterways and food transportation, sponsored by megacorporations which were granted more and more rights as the states around the world crumbled,and eventually I lost my job because I was reported attending a rally against the privatisation of the only rivers remaining . I never even got there, yet I thought my colleague brought something up and convinced the boss to fire me. Of course, I never got any money for being fired. That was long erased from law at 2010, when almost every small business across the world was beginning to be absorbed in a giant monopoly race. Ah yes, let me tell you about that too:

I remember people thinking that something out of the space would set their lives right at 21th December 2012. Or was it 12th? It was at the Mayan calendar or something. The funny thing is, those at the positions of power believed in it too. How do I know of this? The whole world kid, the whole world went to a unification and globalisation frenzy when that year came close. Almost every small business across the world was absorbed by the Fortune 500. Those who resisted to sell their businesses were found “having committed suicide” a few days later, and you could see the business expansion campaigns everywhere, from Tall-Mart to Dix-on Oil, if you had a small business anywhere, they’d do anything to absorb you into their financial empires.

Then it came.

Everyone was shitting bricks when a massive comet was reported heading towards us in December. It could be seen everywhere, around the world every religion would preach something about it, some seeing it as the returning vessel of a Messiah, some as the harbinger of doom, some would say it would carry some weird positive energy which would set everything right, clean up our mess and usher a happy ending and the Credits line of a movie.

None of it happened, not even on that date. That day of impact, I saw how futile our world of religious metaphors were. How futile, nonexistent, nothing our hopes and poems,art and beliefs,our assumptions about natural phenomena were.

The comet smashed right into the Arctic, with an angle of 78 degrees, far from the date of 21th December. It struck at 2 January 2013. The explosion could be felt throughout the world. At that moment, when the shockwave brought earthquakes across the Northern Hemisphere, and tens of millions died, the majority realized that we were doomed. Wars,drought,now this comet, we had run out of luck. We played all our cards, with oil reserves scarce, with fusion power still far from discovery, and even Uranium reserves running low.

We almost lost the game called life. The only solution for survival was to abandon the majority of the planet, abandon most of the poorer folk in 3rd World Nations to death, and gather around what was left of the superpower states and cities and give free rein to nuclear power and megacorporations.

Thýugh I can say that after the impact that either the Global heating slowed or there were less droughts. That Comet must have put a tether on the constant heating of the planet somehow.

In weeks, the U.N voted itself out of existence(what was it doing anyway?), all of the North and South American states did a merger except Venezuela and Cuba, which were overrun by the Pan-American military in a few hours, and were absorbed in days. I never saw such speedy actions in my life. Perhaps we do need a disaster in our heels, a cattle prod on our backs to keep us running. Anyway, where was I?

Racism at Europe was rampant. You could see hundreds of Turkish emigrants returning from Germany every week since the year 2010. Well, I can neither blame them nor the Germans. The whole Europe was ablaze,expiring of thirst or drowning, sometimes all tree together. With floods, forest fires,droughts, the nature running wild, who would tolerate any aliens in their own country at a time like this? Of course, the poor Turks , Italians , Albanians and whoever else who went there prospered and became real,legal,law-abiding German citizens, but justice and reason are things gone in this age. Yet there were always idiots who said Jesus would return and everything would be alright. Or Mahdi , or whatever imaginary friend they believed it existed. Self deceit… I hate imagining good things like a troubled kid and wishing bad things would go away. It leads to disaster. Maybe after all, that’s what these cattle deserved : Disaster.

My life was getting worse and worse these days. Wages were far less than of the previous decade, no insurance, no labor union, no security, it was a nightmare. Suicides and religious cults increased. After all, it was either madness unto death or a cult mentality that could save an average citizen’s sanity.

As if any of the two “solutions” would do any good. Some cults blamed foreigners for spoiling the sacred soil of a nation, some blaming blacks or Asians, some blaming humanity for using genetical engineering, some cults would blame lack of devotion to (insert your Gawd here) for disasters. I couldn’t believe it. In the midst of all, still people sought scapegoats , not solutions. I had lost all of my faith in humanity.

That is also why I never married, nephew. I won’t suffer the bitter survival tale of another troubled child. This state we’re in, we’re better off extinct altogether. Do what you can to survive, kid.And if possible, change something. I have read and seen far too much, I know much, if you could stay for a night at us rather than your parents, I could teach you so much. I can lend you my books, I want you to enjoy sci-fi.”

Science fiction, dreaming of alternate universes with high technology and fascinating new opportunities, dreaming of new places to live, other planets to settle in, it is astonishingly beautiful. And the prospect of seeing far, far space. Such fancies were my only joy those years when I was an often beaten kid in the slums of Istanbul, taking me away from the filth-clogged city, filth-clogged society, hate-poisoned,complacent,sheepish,greedy,double standarded humanity. I’d dream and dream, dream the impossible, dreaming of turning the world into a paradise, or escaping the greedy authorities somehow, in some dreams I thought of destroying them, bringing them to justice, in some less pleasant ones I’d take their lives,their belongings over and rule the world.

Such dreams, of course, were impossible for one such as me to come true.

Or so I thought. What have I done? I still wonder, every day and night, every hour.

What have I done? Well, here we go:

In short, I have amassed a rag-tag band of adventurous, dreaming, mad and desperate people, I bribed the guards at the launch pad with 500.000 Pan-American dollars each from a stolen lotto reward, stormed a launch pad of an experimental Pan-American shuttle aimed at the Moon with the intention of setting up a permanent outpost (If you ask me, they intended some kind of space outpost for world wide air supremacy) , storming tha launch pad IN THE MIDST OF WORLD WAR THREE. In the middle of whizzing Cruise and Skhval missiles, even crashing through an Eurofighter and knocking apart a Mig 3-X Bogatyr, not to mention disrupting the Auto-Pilot computer on board and aiming it at Mars. Laughing? Disbelieving? I wasted a huge supply of money on an insane,lethal action. I could take the cash and live in a relatively blissful, pleasure-filled life. But I was in a strange mood when I planned this. Like these fey moods someone gets in and discards all reason to do something. Don’t you have these moods?…

Well, then I was maybe a total nutcase all the time. But somehow, I feel that this was destined. I never liked money anyway.

How did I do this? Now this, with all my story of childhood, could fill a book. I will try to keep short. If I survive, I’ll write them later. Sergei, the one who pilots this gigantic shuttle says we are approaching Mars surface. I have to assume position for landing. And hope the shuttle doesn’t break apart because of the new equipment we slapped together to enhance it during flight. Another unbelievable feat I have done: installing an experimental Ion engine to a space shuttle by reading and listening to the instructions only in mid-flight. I still am amazed how I am not reduced to a bunch of charred bones or an exploded,vaccuum-bloated husk. I am truly satiated with adrenaline alone for the last week. I can only consume minimal amounts of water, my stomach is transformed to a lump of stone, and I lost weight considerably, even after doing daily exercises for muscle preservation in space.

More thoughts tomorrow. Got to strap up for the landing. Even now I can’t believe this thing made it to Mars so fast, and in one piece.

9th August 2059, Saturday, Mars surface.

My heart is about to burst. I have been the first man on the Mars, far away from humanity, far from all their madness and wrath. I sit on the Zenith of our species, furthest from its cradle. I had to be dragged inside the shuttle for I screamed and danced like crazy for well 15 minutes. My mirth did not seem to reach my friends, for they were a bit grim, but all of us were excited. Even if we were going to die, we are one historic band now. A band of brotherhood, unique in history, achieving the unachievable, rebels to the core, defying all authority and society, stealing the Noah’s Ark of a new age and reaching a whole new planet. The others seem to be more caring about their survival, because although we did one hell of a feat, we still need to figure out what to do now and I just can’t give a damn. Even the long missed gravity cradling my body feels sweet.

One grim question needs to be answered now: Was this shuttle designed as a self sufficient outpost? Or did it need re-supply regularly?

Self sufficiency might sound far fetched, but I read in science magazines about synthetic food vats using recycled waste and just base materials for proteins. Moreover, its designer has come with us!

Yes, Sven Andersson, the Swedish biologist has come with me. The kidnapping and the death of his family at the hands of the Noviy Spetsnaz for refusal to defect to the Eurasian Republic from the Franco-German Union drove him to a fit of drinking and drug abuse. That’s how I met him in a bar for the wealthy in Berlin, when I was spending a bit of my stolen wealth of 100 million Pan-American dollars(I’ll write later how I acquired this wealth). After listening to his rant about humanity, how God could give such torment to him, and how uncaring the authorities were about scientists with peaceful designs for the service of humanity, I told him my idea.

Well, after that was I experienced a touching moment. His face froze, he took a deep breath,and led me out of the bar,ignoring his drinking buddies’ calls who just noticed him, shoving aside the bouncers asking if anything was wrong. We went to the car park, and he pulled out his tiny package of drugs and pills, pulled out a lighter, poured whiskey it the plastic pack, and set it ablaze. With gleaming, steel blue eyes, he bore into my brain with his gaze.

“When do we do it?What do you need?All that I have is yours.”

Great, another nutcase like me. “I am making progress in my quest.”,I thought.

Now, he is at the back of the bridge, looking at a big list of components we shipped inside the shuttle with the help of the bribed guards.I’ll write some more, then I have to help him to sort out the food and component stores.

Now, where was I? Ah yes, we need to set some semblance of order and settle down, wake everyone out of the cryo-tanks, and decide some course of action. Whatever we do, we can’t turn back now. The die is cast, the arrow left the bow, or whatever.

****End of Diary, for now****


“Ah, writing diaries are such a torment. Sven, is there any hope of the shipment we brought with us? Its contents aren’t crushed during takeoff, I hope?” I asked after closing the notebook.

“Well, it seems that God favors madmen. You are a lucky man.”Sven replied, eyeing the large,half assembled, silver colored,bulletproof glass topped large tank. “I am almost done. The hydrophonic tank they bragged in the news is in the shuttle, lies before you and doesn’t seem damaged.”

“No Sven, I mean OUR food tank, the one you said it would work and sustain well a hundred men every day provided it was supplied with biomatter and protein. The Pan-American one could wait.”I said, with wavering confidence. Was our food vat damaged and was he hiding it from me?
Did the PASA guards double cross us and spike it during transportation? My worries were cut short:

“No Can, I just wanted to use the reliable one now. Our experimental contraband can wait now. We have all the time on the Wor- I mean, Mars.” He laughed.

Satisfied, I left the tiny aluminium desk, and walked around the bridge. started looking around the landed ship. The windows showed an alien,grey-pinkish sky with a smaller sun, a red,rocky landscape with a few small hills, and a long…

…canal?

I looked at the snaking gap on the rust colored plains. It was as if it was a river or something, which dried out long ago. Well, we had other things to worry about for now. I turned and went to the deck and the crew quarters, to see the rest of my friends, to talk, to think.

The floor of the shuttle is strangely soft to the feet, as I hear no metallic sounds when I tread on it, yet extremely durable, as our 3 ton weighing food vat stands upright, and doesn’t even seem to bend the shape of the floor it’s on. How do we set this thing right. Sergei, what have you done…

The shuttle itself is truly gigantic. It is like one of those spaceships in the movies like Star Wars or Star Trek. It has a spacious crew quarters, a very large recreation room with some video games and a small cube for some kind of zero gravity ballgame resembling tennis, a massive storage area for supplies, an armory with gas powered harpoon rifles and 5 military suits capable of operating in vaccuum. I wonder why the launch pad was lightly defended, and right in the middle of downtown Berlin. Maybe they didn’t expect a Russian attack or they wanted to lure them to Berlin. After all, all the third world war nonsense didn’t begin until we decided to storm the launch pad. Months have passed, I’m curious who won the war? Not that it is going to matter, I wonder if the American-European Juggernaut will ever lose an open fullscale modern war. Some part of me desperately wishes that.

One of the new feelings I experienced in that new world was that I felt very light, both from the weight loss and from the lesser gravity of Mars. It felt strange, and strange makes me happy. I can’t help it. I am happy. Happy to leave an invisible, dreadful octopus empire behind. Happy to say goodbye to unfair electricity bills demanding money for brownouts, street robberies, taunting drivers, fat, moustached grinning politicans who devour every bribe and hard squeezed profit like pigs, state oppression, religious frenzy, small feuds between colleagues erupting just because the boss did notice one’s success and not the other’s…

I feel just as a pioneer in 17th century would feel at the cold,silent woods of North America. Except that there are no natives. All we have before us is empty, cold void, and orbs of gigantic rock,dust and gas.

Troubled, in danger, alone , far away from civilisation, but free. Free like nothing ever before.

My smile widening, I finally opened the circular door to the crew quarters. Inside, those who didn’t cryosleep were talking in a silent voice, some looking at the outside, some tapping the aluminium desk, gazing into empty air. When I stepped into the room, everyone was silent, and were looking at me intensely, some even standing up, as if expecting something prophetic to come out my mouth. After all, I was the one who came up with this crazy idea to hijack an American military shuttle and escaping far from the entire human civilisation and Earth.

I set my mind, and I spoke:

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, before we decide what to do next, we need to wake up anyone from cold sleep. By the way, let me tell you about our condition:

This spaceship is immense, and I have no idea how they had just 20 guards in the launch pad who could be contacted and bribed so easily. I do not wish to be a paranoiac conspiracion theorist, but this entire ship may have listening and tracking devices, so take care when speaking. I may even direct you my words through writing to the projector’s writing program if need be.

Anyway, the ship possesses huge room and supplies for sustaining at least 200 men indefinitely. There is a massive experimental hydrophonic tank they wrote about in the science magazines. It can produce soft nutritious algae which can be moulded into basic daily foodstuff, -no I’m not kidding!- and has a large water purifier, complete with a complex air purification device at the back of the ship. And on top of that, did you even wonder how we got there?

Well, the ship has a complete experimental nuclear fission reactor for power purposes, and Grigori says it will last well for 10 years before its rods need to be re-enriched, and a huge solar sail with a double purpose as a solar collector packed tight in the storage area. And yes, we used our Ion Engine Grigor, proposed to install in order to propel the shuttle with something else than the initial force of solid fuel.

There is still a lot of cargo we never bothered to look at all of it. One of them turned out to be a complete prefabricated small biodome capable of operating in vaccuum, with power and air connections to the shuttle.

So, what do you think we’ll do? Let’s wake everyone up and explore this shuttle! Then I’ll introduce some of you to others who joined me in the last minute, some who promised me to come years ago and never saw you until we got in.

Any questions?”

A young man with balding hair and wrinkled skin raised his hand.

“Yes Vahe?”

“Well, I trusted you and made it here too. Let me ask one thing, imagine you manage to survive for all this, and make it somewhere. What do you plan next?”

I replied with a calm tone: “Vahe, you think I did this just for vengeance because what they did to my country? That I’d return some time later, provided we survive and prosper that is, to nuke Earth or something? First, I won’t accomplish this in a lifetime, second, I just can’t give a damn about politics. I wanted to escape. Whether we survive or not is in our hands. We got to lay aside ANY vendetta our nationalities had. Even if we will not survive, we must not die because some of us did want some payback for what its state did at Earth. Forget it! We are one now, we stand or die as one!”

Vahe nodded, obviously satisfied at seeing a Turk discarding politics for being trivial. Yet I was a bit upset. Didn’t we go through such petty issues weeks ago at the café in Berlin? He spoke again:

“I just wanted to see if you weren’t mad. That you’d keep your word.”

I replied with calm : “Believe me Vahe, I never felt more calm and focused as now. It is as if something terrible was left behind, and I feel like I awakened from some nightmare.”

The room was filled with laughter and words from anyone confirming what I said, like “Me too” “I feel the same” and “I feel refreshed”

I’ll remember to write about these people to my diary when I get a chance. No one would believe what kind of people were in the room now. I wish so hard that we survive and get remembered. But I have no idea how. Time to wake everyone up, get to the storage bay and start counting what we have and what we brought with us.

10th August 2059, Sunday, Mars surface.

Yesterday was tiring like hell. Yet I enjoyed it. Looks like we are lucky, we have so much supplies, even a small completely unexpected small workshop room with experimental nanotechnological replicators. However, Grigori said we need some blueprints for items we need, and at least relatively pure raw materials ready for replication.

The most important part was activating the hydrophonic tank, filling it with water, some moss and some greenish sludge in packages. After all that, and connecting it with the main power grid, started with a rumbling sound, and began churning some sludgy substance. It seems the buttons at the end of the tank set up what type of foodstuff should come out. I screwed up a couple of times, then we started to get a steady trickle of soft greenish bread and a thicker, meat like, well, something green! I’ll call it Mo-Fu, the Moss Tofu.

However, the recycling part didn’t fit with many, until I reminded them that we are in a tiny, closed environment now. Anything gets recycled, including if anyone dies.

I am getting too scatterbrained, I must count the crew first. At least the remarkable ones, though all are brothers and sisters to me now:

*Vahe Kahvejiyan, a young Armenian I met in Istanbul. I first saw him at the University, as an exchange student from Armenia when the new laws for lifting the embargo on Armenia were set. He had fallen in love with a Turkish girl 3 years younger than him. That’s when shit hit the fan. The girl’s family and all the relatives were, men and women,members of a Grey Wolf Hearth and mafia at the same time. Grey Wolves, in case you don’t know, are an extremely nationalist group we had at our country. One of their leaders even used the skull-measuring, what a laugh it was! He himself didn’t pass as Turkic at his own measuring! Anyways, the girl’s family made a big noise of it, including to threaten the university authorities not to bring them together again or something, according to rumors, that is. Then I saw an act of madness: They both fled the country, taking refuge in France. Just when I was to forever remember Vahe as a man of courage and passion, someone who’d cast aside a good life for his love, I received an email from him begging me about dialing a phone number and saying a keyword, and that he couldn’t.

I did, and did. Well, I wished I didn’t. The fool’s message was to a dormant cell of the newly reborn ASALA with the directives to protect him as a favor to one his relatives aid to ASALA. That was of course, too late when I learned of it, for his impulsive,shortsighted action cost him dearly. And I almost went to lifelong jail for treason and aiding terrorism, had the sluggish and inept Turkish authorities traced the call and email. It still gives me goosebumps today.

There was a showdown in Paris,in the middle of Champs Elyseés, between the girl’s family relatives fanatical enough to follow the lovers all the way there and the ASALA members. The incident filled entire pages with colorful headlines like: “Old Feud, New Face” , “Hate meets Grudge” , “Grey Wolves clash with Armenian Eagles” , “Hate stains City of Love”

Grey Wolves went in with multiple armored limousines, to crash a café and to gun down my friend and his girlfriend working at the café. But the ASALA gunmen were waiting there too, informed somehow, prepared, even one of them occupying a window with a 50. Cal Sniper rifle powerful enough to break bulletproof glass.

The television and amateur camera footage was terrifying. It was something out of a B Rated action movie. Result was the death of 85 innocents as the street was filled with people and it was midday, all the Grey Wolf and ASALA militants dead (I was surprised and a bit frightened at the Franco-German Police calling in special forces and not even bothering taking anyone alive), plus hundreds injured as neither the Grey Wolves nor the ASALA never even bothered aiming for the right persons, their authopsies showed intensive drug usage before combat anyway.

That day, even I was frightened at how people, regardless of nationality or upbringing, can turn into bloodthirsty monsters to shoot someone you never even met without slightest hesitance, someone who could even be your potential lover or friend. Incredibly, all three sides acted like frenzied terrorists. Well, perhaps we all have a monster side aching to get out and drown all rationality, drown the whole world in a torrent of blood, blood regardless where it comes from.

There were more news, Vahe and his girlfriend, Bilge, were heavily injured and under heavy guard at hospital. I could only call the hospital every day, begging the operator to be notified, that I was Vahe’s friend.

Vahe survived, Bilge didn’t.

I would meet Vahe years later at Berlin, when I was preparing to meet the guards of the Goldlaub Space Center. I was horrified. He had lost most of his hair, lost weight, and scratching his neck occasionally though there were no sores or whelks. He had abused drugs! We sat down at a café and he told me his story of what happened afterwards. When he was awake, he realized he lost her and wanted to die, only to be restrained by the hospital personnel and sedated. Lots of newspapers wanted to talk to him, to speak of what he witnessed he suddenly was the “Hurt victim of racism and gun violence.” When he talked, his words would be broadcast live at every European channel. He earned considerably at attending talkshows, even starring at a documentary of violence,racism and extreme nationalism, and earning a yearly pension from the Franco-German union(I still wonder why they paid him plentifully with all the economical shrinking going on, racist hypocrites…)

With nothing to spend on as he lost all that mattered to him, all he did was to get high and wasted, to forget what his action costed him. He himself admitted dozens of times before me that calling a bigger beast to hunt a beast resulted in horror, with no ability to make amends. Of course, after a year he was forgotten amongst the idiotic,evershifting popular culture and was just living off the pension.

At that second I asked him:

“Do you want to go to hell with me?”

Vahe blinked, and said nothing.

“I want to escape to die a faster but more glorious death. We are dead here anyway.”

“When do we go? And where exactly?”

“To space, we’ll steal a shuttle.”

He started wheezing and collapsed. I got startled, but realized he was laughing.

“Let’s do it.”

I smirked, he looked like a wreck.

“First, you got to lay down the drugs.Get a haircut and get new clothes.”

“Consider it done. This will be a closing episode to the fuckup that’s called Vahe’s Stupid Little Life.”

Interesting, isn’t it? I have a habit of attracting madmen and desperate, tormented people.

What about Sergei, Grigori and Anatoliy? Their tales I can remember are a bit shorter for each, but still incredibly unique.

Grigori is a Russian Scientist who achieved insane feats in a short lifetime. He was hailed as the wunschkind of the Eurasian Union, the beloved hero of the Russian peoples etc. He built an improved ion engine, nanotechnological cameras which could work as a network in unison, causing the user to see and hear an entire room in his mind, and had planned a theoretical cold fusion reactor, and was seen as the savior of the world as he’d solve the energy problem of the entire planet.

A backstage argument during a world press conference involving he and another scientist inflammated quickly,and before anyone could silence the aggravator, revealed to the world that he was a genetically engineered human being, raised by a group of Russian scientists (whose name he refuses to say still), trained when sleeping with hypnopedia, when awake by multiple, extremely able teachers, and had implants all over his body enhancing his mental capabilities,senses,stamina and creativity. He was a huge walking brain. Born and bred for purest intellect and wisdom. That was the reason his rival called him a “freak”.

But he always hated the ones who raised him, and wanted his projects to be used for peace and happiness, not war. I can’t blame him though, being bereft of all tenderness of a human love, he wanted people to praise him and love him because he’d always invent some new device never leaving one person hungry or unhappy. He was a peaceful technocrat. Or should I say, Technomancer? Verily, his skills resemble magic.

He must have been really pissed off when his nanocameras were used in interrogration cells, and the bedrooms and private places of political rivals worldwide, his powerful ion engine in Mig 3-X Bogatyrs and Skhval missiles. So pissed off that he announced that he invented some more powerful,new generation ion engine, and actually had built a one man carriage using the new engine, and blasted off into space when “testing” it, leaving a video message behind, with his ass showing, digitally edited to saying : ”Kiss my ass” in English worldwide on the Internets. Childish,weird, but probably effective. The President, Aleksandr Dumayev went in a fury, fired officers, generals, secluded himself for a week, then came to his senses after a few more days.

I don’t know where he went, but he must have been watching my every move, even calling a nearby phone booth to contact me (which scared me witless at the first time),emailing me and helping me occasionally. Another nutcase, he promised he’d come at the day of the raid with a few gifts, and he did. I have no idea how, he keeps saying he’ll tell when the time is right.

Sometimes I think he pretended escaping, and works for Russia, I mean, Eurasia. A mad genius like him can do anything. But I won’t tell that to him. He is everything about technical aid in this ship now. We depend on him. I hate being dependant. Particularly when our benefactor is madder than me and extremely unpredictable.

What about Sergei? He is a pilot, with deep knowledge in every flying vehicle, including space shuttles. Yet his hate of authority was unnoticed until the time he rose throughout Eurasian ranks in a meteoric speed, only to defect to the Franco-German union with a Mig 3-X Bogatyr, bristling with newest expensive technology the Europeans were sorely lacking. Didn’t I say he hated authority? He didn’t find the European Air Force too pretty either, he found it even more hateful and racist than his homeland. Yet he must have endured, as he also rose through the ranks there as well,earning fame and medals , and was even given the task of defending Berlin from the Eurasian Airforce’s onslaught when Dumayev decided to take over the weakened,decadent and bickering continent.

I never even noticed him until we reached the launch bay doors through all the smoke and rubble. A man in deeply decorated ceremonial military uniform, armed with a golden gleaming,gilded Magnum revolver jumped out of the smoke, grabbed me by the neck and shouted in my face in broken English:

“I am Sergei Ivanovich and I am expert at every aircraft, I see you try to steal shuttle, I hate state,I hate politicians,I hate authority and do not want to fight, I want to escape too. You need me, I need you. I will come with you or kill you!”

I was too scared to resist. I feared that we were captured and a large “game over” text would be flashing on my face. Yet he organized everyone and everything into perfect takeoff position, including the cargo, as he bought a lot of time with the lie that he’d captured the “terrorist leader”, ME.I later learned that his English was perfect, but he couldn’t speak properly because he was filled with excitement of war and fear, as he saw an opportunity once in a lifetime, driven enough to kill if he’d fail an escape. He might have saved all of us from slow death due to damaged supplies or capture.

Anatoliy, born of a Kazakh mother and Russian father, a Cosmonaut with a reputation, as he could repair space equipment at great effectiveness and could complete very complex tasks, was a beloved person all around the world when he saved a number of Space Tourists from painful vaccuum suffocation by fixing an air pump in a couple of minutes at International Space Station.

He dreamed to work at a Joint Venture Space Station built by all nations piece by piece, and was a pacifist, just like Grigori. I remember him begging any interviewer to let the world rebuild the U.N and put him in it, as diplomacy could solve everything and he’d strive to get the world together. Damn hippie.

If you ask me, I have begun thinking if violence may be the only solution to problems worldwide.

Poor Anatoliy, looks like his dream got crushed faster than a blue bead under a 18 wheel truck. And more messily. With all his dreams gone and prospects for a career postponed likely forever,as the world cared more about guns than utopian space projects nowadays, with the ISS got shredded by the debris the Comet was carrying, killing his dearest friends along with it, and Mir II getting cancelled, he was bitter and uncaring about the world, just like almost everyone in that shuttle now.

I contacted him when I was in Turkey and he was giving a speech about space travel and hazards in a university, paid by a populist Turkish politician trying to look caring for technology. I was also taking place at that convention, representing my University’s project about Hydrogen Powered water drills for deeper underground water supplies; how stupid and trivial a project it was. I wonder if anyone seriously listened to it. I knew that he was bitter and tired, his every action showed it. However, after the conference, when we had a little chat about technology,space equipments,astronomy and even Sumerology, he seemed interested in talking more. I don’t know why, but I asked him his email address for contacting him,should anyone like else be interested in such a conference again as he seemed desperate for any thing that will make his knowledge in space shown and make him paid.

I still don’t understand why Eurasian Alliance (to those who don’t know about it, it is roughly what Soviet Union was a century ago, this time allied,yet not merged with China and many other Asian countries as well) never cared for space technology as its predecessor Soviet Union was. It was as if the alliance merely cared for an enormous military buildup with its fresh petrodollars gained from newly discovered huge oil reserves around Caspian Sea a decade ago.

I can’t blame them either. If I was anyone from the east of Greece I’d be fed up with limitless meddling of foreigners coming from thousands of miles away too. Anyway, the Eurasian Alliance faintly hinted in every newspaper and media organ that it was about to lay down the hammer on Europe pretty soon should its interests in the rest of the oil supply of the world, and its existence not be respected.

I could see every day in Europe before World War 3 cartoons, newspaper authors,blogs,and almost everything and everyone writing and declaring about how the “New Soviet Union” was the new head of the “Axis of Evil”, how Aleksandr would succeed where Stalin failed, how the new Alexander would come from the East this time etc etc…. I truly got saturated with every email,text, blog update, newsletter and newspaper about how evil the Russians were, how they ignored “human rights” and aimed at world conquest for the glory of their “kleptocracy”.

The majority of Europe’s attitude was laughable. Almost children could see the nonsense In the newspapers and TV, I doubt if anyone took that propaganda seriously. What I never understood was, the military strength of the newly formed Greater Europe of Franco-German Union (what a pompous name, and all useless!) was severely outgunned and outnumbered by Eurasian Military personnel almost four to one, the entire continent simmering with minority clashes as wannabe Skinheads erupted everywhere from London to Warsaw, and it even depended on American (I’ll stop writing Pan-American, reminds me of pancakes) airforce reserves stationed in London for air superiority.

Why did they provoke the full fury of the East? I will probably never know, much less the outcome of that mad catfight over the last beautiful things on Earth, unless I got to nerve to return to Earth. I’d prefer one type of food, meager quarters and very limited space in a closed titanium bulk to all the filth of Earth right now. Counting what I have here, I might be even richer than when I was at Earth. Minus the stolen lotto reward I wasted to get here, that is.

No, I made up my mind. I’m not going there. I’d rather open an airlock and burst in vaccuum.

11th August 2059, Sunday, Mars surface.

I managed to sleep during writing, my back hurts. Be back in a few hours.


I’m back. Looks like there are tons of equipment on that ship we don’t know about. We uncovered a large crate containing unassembled parts of a large communication dish. When Grigori found out what it was, he became doubly active, asking for anyone available to carry the crate to an airlock and assemble it outside of the ship.

The outside of the ship… I only treaded Mars soil once, I was extremely busy to even leave the ship. But I think we will be exploring and even playing outside like children in the next few days. There are a dozen normal space suits, and five darker, thicker and more forbidding suits as well.

When I asked Grigori what they were, he said that they were armored space suits,laced with kevlar and sandwiched titanium exoskeletons, with an extremely well designed high tech patching mechanism laid in them to patch any hole smaller than 3 inches in diameter with a small titanium disc melding around the hole in less than a second, thus saving the wearer and only creating a temporary, fixable vaccuum effect when hit.

I wonder how he knows that stuff, which never even was rumored and must be a super secret project. I am beginning to worry about our loot too. If I was the American president, I’d be hunting the thieves to the end of the solar system. What have we stolen? How was that possible?

Was that all a trap, to test a potential survivalist’s mettle in space? Was I traced all the time?

Or maybe, I am just worrying too much. I have done the best thing doable in the world, to hell with consequences. Let the president tear himself apart at the loss of billion dollars of equipment, as if Iraq wasn’t an excuse to make his arms dealer buddies rich.

I am definitely going to explore the outside. I want to know where we landed, and what can we explore in Mars. We are the first men and women to do so. Although the ship has a nuclear reactor to power up everything, I think I’ll tell the rest of the crew to charge every chargable solar battery and solar power operated small tools and whatnot. We can’t trust a single source as power source if we have an alternative, what if the reactor needed to be shut down some time in the future? All of us must take our steps carefully. There is no going back, and there is no room for failures right now. A wrong move or ruined component can kill all of us.

When all this is done, I think we’ll set up the inflatable dome. It is transparent, and may be interesting to those who are going to wake up today. I and Sergei decided that we need to be showy and confident when we wake up the rest of our people, people who have been desperate enough to raid a military space shuttle to nowhere. Because of this, I have also decided to get out the entertainment gadgets out to the crew hall, some to the inflatable dome to make an attractive outdoors playground.

As for the food and water, we’ll need some orderly rationing as everyone will line up for lunch. We have plenty in nutrients, though all of us will have to give up and forget what we ate at home, Earth. We’ll have to get used to moss bread and pasta,lukewarm water (I don’t know how to fix the on-board fridge and it looks seriously out of order) and protein sludge, for it might be our lifelong meal.

But most importantly, we’ll lunch on the surface of Mars!

***End of Diary***


***White House, Earth***


The White House, the gleaming domed structure that was the heart of the United States, and now the de-facto heart of the Pan American Alliance, was unchanged for decades,save for the last weeks. On a peaceful green garden, it would like a monument of eternity, a sign that some powers on this planet has decided to make this building their home, their place where they would shape the fate of the world.

Now, it has been changed. A loud buzzing satellite dish was erected in front of it, around it, dozens of ABM batteries kept turning constantly, as if they were eyes ever watching the sky, dozens of APC’s were rumbling on the street, the National Guard patrolling around the building, and men in black suits guarding every door with robotic vigilance. The whole building, and the whole city around it was turned into a frightening military fortress.

The air was ominously silent. No one would even lift his eyes to meet the eyes of the President, Harold Steinhauer. A brilliant military project, worth billions of dollars, a project that would allow the Pan-American Alliance to dominate the entire planet’s airspace, its land and all in it, was a failure because a rogue, a dreamer, an adventurer, a terrorist from a Middle Eastern country which was dissolved a few years ago managed to get a band of Eurotrash losers,blacks,Asians,and all the rabble of the world together, was gone. All cargo stolen, schedule disrupted, the dream of nuking Moscow and Beijing from orbit and making the whole Asia the playground and the whorehouse of the West, was botched.

On the table of the President, the picture of the man, the picture of all that was hated,reviled, and sought, lay. He couldn’t tear his gaze from it. For the fifth time, he read the report with his jaw trembling.

Glasses, brown hair, green-blue eyes, white skin, he looked like everyone but a Turk. Knowledge of English,German,Russian,and Simplified Chinese, degree in Electronics Engineering (though with a questionable Average Grade of 2.71), reported being seen in Germany at most, and occasionally in Greater Armenian Republic,Republic of Pontus and Democratic Republic of Kurdistan without visa, suspected of murdering of the Greek-American lottery winner Stelios Smithson, suspected of stealing an APC from the National Guard Headquarters of Berlin and raiding the Goldlaub Launch Center.

Suspected, suspected, suspected… The camel-riding chubby bastard ruined the Anglo-American dream of shattering the Eastern hordes, and that is all that mattered to the President. Though his and his supporters’ grasp on that bloated, rich country since the hated Founding Fathers built it was eternally secure, all the dreams he and his masters dreamed, were now hanging in balance.

Amongst the boy’s interests and hobbies could be found Sumerology, Astronomy, Linguistics, Theology and Oratory skills. The President shuddered for a moment. Did this kid stumble upon something, something that gave him insight about what happened to the world nineteen millenia ago, or what was happening right now? Did he know of what his masters had in mind?

And that freak. That sick, insane, geeky Russian freak. If it wasn’t for him, the Turk would be caught and hung in Kurdistan dozens of times over to appease the Kurds who demanded more and more economical and military aid as their southern provinces were getting scorched and ruined by the sand storms gigantic compared those of the last decade, and were upset for the West could spare no more.

Yet every time the Turk would receive a phone call to avert capture, or the CIA agents sent after him could be found dead with needles embedded deep into their necks.

If the freak scientist has invented plenty of fanciful things for the Russians, then they would put it to good use, he thought. And his thoughts came true, much to the trouble of the Europe as a new generation of fighters could fly for a whole day even to the exosphere, evading every anti-aircraft guidance system, making fun of the Aurora bombers, roared over the skies of Kremlin, and every dissenter and political rival of the Russians were ruined with proofs of misconduct and corruption worldwide.

Now, the Reds would truly, inevitably plant the flag all the way to London. It was a matter of time before the Bear would take what he longed for.

Again, America would respond to the call of Europe, to protect its interests.

But this time it wasn’t easy. The launch was aborted, then reactivated by that terrorist, and now the Luna Base which was planned all those years was history.
Wine in hand, in the other, Quran,
Both halal I do and haram,
In this incomplete world of a sham,
Neither Pagan I am, nor Musselman!


Omar Khayyam

Come, come, whoever you are,
Wanderer, idolater, worshipper of fire,
Come even though you have broken your vows a thousand times,
Come, and come yet again.
Ours is not a caravan of despair


Mevlana Jalaladdin Rumi
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Comrade Jim
Member Avatar
The Apocalypse Itself
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Read about half of it so far and it is awesome

Very Mundian as well

Read the rest later
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http://www.counterorder.com/nihilism.html http://www.resnet.trinity.edu/ddamon/hiero...exicon_menu.htm http://www.dcpoliticalreport.com/PartyLink.htm http://ninjagrizzlybear.azurenight.com/fightclub.htm
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Khan
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HAVE YOU HEARD OF THIS SWEET WEBSITE CALLED FOUR CHAN DOT ORG?
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Comrade Jim
Sep 6 2007, 07:29 PM
Read about half of it so far and it is awesome

Very Mundian as well

Read the rest later

I just CANNOT ignore the Mayan Calendar's Aquarius Age Phenomenon and its association with contemporary culture.
Wine in hand, in the other, Quran,
Both halal I do and haram,
In this incomplete world of a sham,
Neither Pagan I am, nor Musselman!


Omar Khayyam

Come, come, whoever you are,
Wanderer, idolater, worshipper of fire,
Come even though you have broken your vows a thousand times,
Come, and come yet again.
Ours is not a caravan of despair


Mevlana Jalaladdin Rumi
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Flamingo
Member Avatar
Penis goes in here
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
I don't have the time to read it now, but I will later.
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agafaba
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douchebagga
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Ok... I was expecting a small story as usual but I found a text wall. I will have to read this later.
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Khan
Member Avatar
HAVE YOU HEARD OF THIS SWEET WEBSITE CALLED FOUR CHAN DOT ORG?
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Bump. MOAR cometh soon /mundi ...
Wine in hand, in the other, Quran,
Both halal I do and haram,
In this incomplete world of a sham,
Neither Pagan I am, nor Musselman!


Omar Khayyam

Come, come, whoever you are,
Wanderer, idolater, worshipper of fire,
Come even though you have broken your vows a thousand times,
Come, and come yet again.
Ours is not a caravan of despair


Mevlana Jalaladdin Rumi
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Flamingo
Member Avatar
Penis goes in here
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Damn, I didn't even read the first post yet, I completely forgot about this thread.
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