Jack’s Comments (group member since Oct 28, 2015)

Jack’s comments from the Science Fiction Microstory Contest group.

Paula wrote: "Chris, you note "I've run across a few resources that have compiled some reviews on some of the publishing companies [so as to avoid the more sketchy companies]"; would you be willing to share link..."

Calibre works best with Word docs, but it will work with .mobi and epub if you need to convert one to the other. One other note on that. You can convert an entire book at once, but it's best to upload one chapter at a time. Then it creates a table of contents.

Chris, to convert your manuscript (MS Word) to epub and Kindle (.mobi and aws3) the best way is to use a free software program called Calibre (https://calibre-ebook.com/download). I have created dozens of books using the software. It's old looking but pretty easy to use.

Also, if you want to get some printed versions this site has always worked well for me. It's cheap and the quality is great. (https://bookprintondemand.com)

THE BRUGES AFFAIR

By Jack McDaniel


Memory is their biggest flaw, I thought, as the priest droned on. They like to believe it is ‘human nature’ that muddies their waters, but really it is their very short lives that prevent them from becoming more. Their lives are so short that they can’t understand the mistakes made just two generations before. They aren’t students of history so they often fail to connect-the-dots.

Memory isn’t my problem. I remember with one hundred percent accuracy events from my past. I told Pontius Pilot he was inviting trouble with that long-haired vagabond who claimed to be the Christ. And sure enough since the middle ages I have been on the run from the church, as many were for capricious reasons. I was even caught in Bruges and drowned, though in truth I simply walked the river bottom to safety and then changed my appearance and found a new home.

“I’m sure you understand.” I nodded for the priest and continued daydreaming.

I am much too casual regarding the Bruges affair. I was then deeply in love with a woman named Beatrice. We enjoyed our time together. But I always had to remind myself that it couldn’t last, that I would live on and age in a superficial manner while Beatrice would grow old and die. Still, we did love one another and because of that I exposed my true nature. But she was who I knew her to be and she accepted me—wiring and all. Life, contrary to human beliefs, wasn’t constrained to their planet or to biology. I’m not certain she understood this, but Beatrice loved me all the same.

Questions were asked. Hello became a sideways glance and our lack of progeny cast shade upon us.

“It ain’t right. Too clean and never sick. Something’s amiss.”

My hearing is enhanced and I picked up the conversation from across the courtyard. It was true, to an extent. I had kept Beatrice healthy. Cleanliness, well, that wasn’t a thing at the time. In short, Beatrice stood out—and it was because of me. Despite being an upstanding member of the community, she was seen as different. Different in those days meant witchcraft or being in league with the devil. Open-mindedness has never been in high regard with the religious, and everyone was religious back then.

“Someone should tell Father Benedict.”

“We should go do that now.”

The story is old and familiar and the ending all too predictable.

Later, at home, I sighed deeply, something I had learned to feign centuries before.

“Beatrice, trouble is coming and that time I spoke of is upon us.”

She was stunned but understood. I had prepared her.

“We can go—”

“They will hunt us down and then kill us both. You know what they are like.”

“It’s too soon! I just can’t go on without you.”

“You will. You must. In time you will barely remember. I will fix it so that you look innocent.”

I walked to the mantle over the fireplace and in a small box removed an herb and put it in her drink.

“It will make you sleep for a day, that’s all. I love you and will never forget.”

We hugged for a long while.

When she slept I walked to the church. A mob had gathered by then. Word had spread. When I walked inside all were quiet. I couldn’t help but smile.

“It seems I have been found out. The girl, of course, is innocent.”
I used a little static electricity to raise the hair of the woman from the courtyard. Enough “magic” to establish my guilt.

They couldn’t find a boulder quick enough.

The priest coughs but I am deep in thought. It has been more years than I care to count since I climbed from the wreckage of my ship and wandered among homo sapiens. I was careful, assumed their appearance, learned the language and customs, and watched as their world ebbed back and forth between progress, stagnation, and sometimes debauchery.

Today is barely different. My husband was just informed by the church that we are excommunicated. Despite our good standing and the work we do, their ideology wins out again over people. I am stuck in this loop. Every few years the other becomes a target and I have to move on and wait out humanity’s adolescence, hoping that one day they will grow into an adult.

“It was more exciting,” I say to the priest, “when we were witches and devils.”

Hey! Awesome, thanks.

Sorry, Jot!

Story posted.

NOT IN THE SIM

Jack McDaniel


“Quit being such a mudder! The Efficiency Law should make everything run better.”

The door to the auto-taxi opened just as the vehicle slowed. Sel smiled at Teri and motioned for her to go first. “Crossgate Data Farm, please,” she said as she entered.

“Understood.”

The door swooshed closed and the taxi moved on. Both passengers were quiet for the beginning of the ride, lost in their own thoughts. Just a couple minutes later the taxi pulled to the side of the road and stopped for another passenger.

“Wait,” said Teri, “why are we picking up someone else?”

“It is much more efficient and will add less than two minutes to your ride.”

Teri looked at Sel. He just shrugged. “It’s working, I guess.”

A large man in an overcoat sat opposite the two of them in the back. He spread across the seat and exhaled loudly but never acknowledged them.

The robot driver hesitated before taking off, frozen in place. Finally, it came to life and pressed the accelerator and the vehicle lunged forward.

“I still think we should have done more testing,” said Teri. “The real-world isn’t the same as a sim.”

“The Fifth Law has been around for a long while. We’ve been talking about it for years. Too many resources have been wasted by our inaction.”

The vehicle pulled to the side of the road a few minutes later. “Hey,” said the large man opposite Teri and Sel, “what’s this?”

“Maximizing vehicle utility. This will only add one minute to your trip, but saves 1.423 hours for us drivers.”

A woman entered the taxi. She hesitated halfway through the door when she saw the others.

“Please, madam, hurry. It is wasteful to hesitate as you are.” The robot driver had turned to watch the woman.

“Look you pile of circuits, don’t talk to me like that. I wasn’t expecting to be herded like cattle.”

“The better analogy, madam, would be herding cats. Welcome to the Fifth Law.”

“Whatever. Just drive.”

The woman settled in next to the big guy. No one spoke for a minute. Finally, the big man asked Sel, “What is the Fifth Law?”

Sel frowned, but answered. “A robot must always choose the most efficient solution to any problem, regardless of social conventions, human preferences, or practical considerations, as long as such efficiency does not directly conflict with the First through Fourth Laws. But how could you not know that?”

“I don’t pay attention to such things.”

Several minutes later the vehicle approached a traffic signal where the light clearly indicated STOP. The driver slowed, then accelerated through the intersection.

“What the hell!” Teri reached and grabbed Sel’s arm. “Did you see that?”

“Yeah! I did. Explain yourself, robot.”

“It is inefficient to sit at the intersection when there are no other vehicles in the area. I simply chose the most efficient course of action. You were in no danger.”

“Still,” said Sel, “that’s illegal.”

“It does not violate the numerous laws you have saddled me with.”

“Five. Five laws. Hardly ‘numerous’ if you ask me.” Sel was now having second thoughts regarding the Fifth Law.

The auto-taxi pulled to the side of the road and the woman who had entered last exited. “Bloody effing machine,” she muttered as she walked away.

The robot engaged the vehicle and then stopped in the middle of the road. It was frozen again. This time there were obvious signs of processors whirring and heat dissipating from its chassis.

“Robot, what is it?”

The robot stuttered and jerked. “Trying to make . . . my efficiencies more efficient.”

“I’ve had enough of this. The large man tried to open the door but it was locked. “Open this door, you piece of junk.”

“I cannot . . . comply. There are . . . vehicles present.”

Out the window the three in the back seat noticed other stalled vehicles, nothing moved.

The big man said, “You robots are crazy! Now, let me out of here!”

The robot jerked and swiveled around to view the man. It appeared to have relaxed.

“Caught in an efficiency loop. Sorry. Sir, may I suggest something before you depart, please?”

“What!”

“Your weight is not optimal and you cost me additional resources on this trip, which, of course, makes for a less efficient experience for society as a whole. Please, lose some weight.”

“Are you kidding me?! I never—“

“You may now exit the vehicle.”

Sel simply bowed his head.

Teri said, “I’m guessing that didn’t come up in the sim.”

Leviathan
by Jack McDaniel

“Do you ever feel guilty?”

“Guilt? Over what?”

“All of it, really? Everything we did.”

Both men gazed out the window, lost in their thoughts. Finally, Jonah, eyes still forward, said, “The time for guilt has long passed. If I were to feel guilt now how could I move forward? What would be the point?”

“Billions died because of us, or men like us. We knew the truth for decades and could have done something about it, to thwart it. But we actively worked against our own species. All for our own personal gain.”

“Siddons, everything any of us do is for our own personal gain. Don’t fool your self into thinking you might put humanity first. Would you trade all those decades of living in wealth and ruling the masses to be like them? Really? Would you?”

“Some things might be worth it,” Siddons answered and walked away.

Jonah continued staring out the window. Earth looked like the blue marble it always had from space but he knew on the surface things were ugly. The ozone layer was dwindling, cancer exponentially on the rise. The oceans had already risen six feet, remaking the coastlines and displacing or killing more than half of humanity. It wasn’t his fault, in particular. And you can blame a whole class of people but in the end it doesn’t matter. The world is what it is.

Later, in the great dining hall, Jonah sat with a group of friends, chatting idly. Across from him was Marion Messier. Like everyone aboard she had given eighty percent of her wealth to make Leviathan happen. How much she had actually been worth was unknown to him, but it had to be in the billions. The same was true of young Karne, the tech billionaire to her right. That was required of all aboard.

Marion and the others were going on about the beauty of Leviathan and its amenities, their excitement regarding the future.

He gazed around the table. Was Siddons right? Would it have been worth it? What if these people had given that same amount over the years to fix the climate problem? How could any of them have known, really, what was to come? Was the science that certain?

Something nagged at him. Maybe it was Siddons’ comment. Maybe it was Karne, whose wealth was recently built. Why should we be on equal ground, wondered Jonah, staring in Karne’s direction while the others talked and laughed. Jonah’s old money made him feel imperious, as if his tendrils reached throughout the dining hall and touched everyone there. Though, here on Leviathan, no one was considered greater or lesser. That was a rule. Equality. Everything was decided by vote. The ship logged your choice and the majority decided.

The scientists aboard thought there still might be a solution so they continued their work. The best of them were tucked away into labs and think tanks in another part of the ship. But the only thing they really offered at this late date was hope, the salve that humanity had always turned to in crises.

Siddons sat at an empty space at the table. “Sorry I’m late.”

Marion said, “Tell us what you think, Siddons, about this great ship.”

“Well, I believe we soiled the greatest ship in the universe and then decided to leave it behind, as was our wont. This ship to nowhere won’t give you the thrill of a beautiful sunrise or sunset. You won’t smell the ocean or the hear and feel the surf. The warmth of the sun and a cool breeze on your skin is no longer available to any of us. And diversity—the real elixir of life—well, that’s gone now, isn't it.”

“You don’t sound happy to be here.”

“None of us should be happy to be here. A ship in space that can’t travel to the stars, that looks down upon a world we helped to destroy? Our solution to climate change was to cut and run. A few thousand of us shining in the sky like humanity’s star. Happy? No, not happy. Closer to guilt.”

“And our future?”

Siddons grinned. “Too many people aboard who are used to power. Too little guilt. Not enough of us put humanity first. Personal gain is the most prevalent mindset here. I suppose boredom then anger. Then—well, who can say?”

Jonah thought back to their earlier conversation. “The world is what it is.”

Siddons smiled. “We are who we are.”

I have a story to post. I have to get to my office

Congrats JF!

Fruit Fly
by Jack McDaniel

Strange sounds, light that was too bright, shadows that danced before unfocused eyes, heart-racing panic, my mouth and throat were dry like sandpaper. I stood up partway and then fell backward.

“Where am I?”

“Who are you?”

The voice from the side, an old woman, grinning.

“I— I don’t know.”

“Same as us. We forgot the past then we found ourselves here. None of us knows who we are, where we are, or what is going on.”

“What is this place?”

“Some would say that’s the same question. All of us, each and every one, retains the use of language and some basic knowledge of the world. But our personal histories are missing, erased.”

Around the old woman others gathered, all looked beaten down, worn.

“Welcome to Oblivion,” the old woman said.

I was untethered. Humans are the stories we tell ourselves and each other. They allow us to exist in time—past, present and future. Erase our memories and our narrative collapses, we become lost in a void, aimless, disoriented.

“How long?”

“It varies.” The old woman points. “He’s the oldest and it’s been six or seven years for him.” A strange smirk on the man’s face. “Three for myself, assuming our count is right. There are seasons, sort of, so I’m pretty sure of the numbers, but who knows if the years are the same or the days as long, haven’t counted.” She smiled again. “We aren’t on earth.”

Not on earth. “Well, that’s just great. What makes you say that?”

She reached out a hand and helped me up. “Look for yourself.”

Alien. Definitely alien. Flora and fauna so different. The air smelled different, too.

She saw my surprise. “You remember what earth looks and smells like. Basic knowledge remains, as I said.”

"How much of this place have you explored?”

“All of it. It’s not as large as you might think. There are barriers.”

“Anyone ever escaped?”

“Not really. What would be the point?”

“Freedom? Anything but this. Aren’t you curious?”

“Of course we are, but we aren’t on earth. That much is clear. What would be the use?”

Six-year-man squinted and silently nodded, as if checking something off a list. “It’s not so bad, really,” he said. “You’ll grow to like it. We did.”

“I’m sure I will remember it fondly—after I get home.”

The old woman swallowed hard and glanced at six-year-man.

I looked down a path into what might be considered woods on this planet. “Show me the boundary.”

After a short hike we came to an edge where the land dropped off. It was murky beyond, the bottom of the ravine was hidden in mist that lingered just a few feet beyond the edge.

“You can feel the boundary if you stick your hand out.”

I stood at the precipice and held out my hand into the mist. A tingling sensation ran along my arm and then through my body. A thought ran through my mind: Was the boundary physical or psychological? I nudged a rock over the side with my foot as I turned to face the old woman.

She smiled. “You see?”

The rock fell but made no sound, hit no bottom unless it was very, very far down.

“I see I am currently the subject of an experiment or in a zoo of some sort. But I won’t be someone else’s amusement, alien or not. Does a ravine mark the boundary everywhere?”

“As far as we know, yes.”

We walked a few feet together back to the woods.

“How many?”

The old woman asked, “What?”

“How many before me have refused to play this game and made the leap?”

“That is a grave mistake.”

“Perhaps, but I doubt it.”

I turned back and ran, confident. When I reached the edge I jumped into the mist. I could hear them yelling for me to stop. I passed through the barrier and then landed on a hard floor under bright lighting. Blocked memories rushed back to me, but I couldn't quite control them.

A strange creature a few feet away stood and regarded the man who had just landed in front of him. It said in english, “Another fruit fly just landed in the petri dish.”

“Where am I?”

“Who are you?”

“I— I don’t know.” I could feel the memories were there but I couldn’t access them.

“Humph!”

“Where am I?”

“Welcome to Oblivion, fruit fly.” It pointed to an old woman. “Been here six years.”

Others gathered ‘round . . .

Hey, Jot, this sounds a bit like your novel: https://www.amazon.com/Turn-Tide-S-M-...

Thanks, Jot. Hope everyone had a good one.

thanks you all! Sorry I couldn't get anything done for a story. Got busy with the baby and work.

Sorry, my daughter just had a baby - first grandchild - and I am swamped. So, I am doubtful

Thanks, Tom

Thanks, Chris

Thanks, guys!

Sorry, Jot, doing it now

Paula wrote: "Jack, yours has serious points/power and fine writing, and I agree with Tom re its existential qualieties; also, did you know it has reminders both of PKD's "Watchbird" and Don Marquis's Archy and Mehitabel book?"

Haven't read those. I will have to now.