Posts tagged ‘science fiction’
ELMO’S INVENTION: CHAPTER 3, NEW TEST SUBJECTS
CHAPTER 3
NEW TEST SUBJECTS
The next day Elmo drove to Brooker’s Egg Farm. He pulled into the small, graveled parking lot. He liked old-man Brooker. He was a no-nonsense kind of fellow. Getting out of his car, Elmo surveyed the property. Row upon row of low-slung chicken sheds took up most of the land, and the air was full of the constant clucking of the residents.
Nate Brooker, owner of the farm, left his office and walked toward Elmo. Nate was ancient, grizzled and walked with a limp. He was a ‘take no shit’ kind of guy. If you tried to feed him a line or make small talk, he would shake his head and say, “For Christ’s sake, get to the god damned point, will you. I ain’t got all day.” And if you didn’t, he would leave you standing there, alone. Elmo was not talkative, and that suited Brooker just fine.
Extending his hand, Brooker asked, “How you doing, son? Come for a dozen of my fine eggs?”
Brooker was surprised when Elmo said, “Not today. Today I need six fertilized eggs.”
“Fertilized eggs! Are you gonna be raising your own chickens and stop buying from me? Maybe selling eggs yerself. You must be shittin’ me. Get your ass back in your damn car and get the hell off my damn property.”
To say that Elmo was taken aback would have been putting it mildly. “No, sir,” Elmo said. “I need the eggs for an experiment. I have no intention of raising chickens.”
Elmo knew about Brooker’s reputation, but this was a side of the old man he had never personally been exposed to.
“Well, young fella, I guess that’s okay. But if I find out that you’re shittin’ me, they’ll be hell to pay.”
“I assure you; the eggs will just be for an experiment.”
“I’ll hold you to your word, son.”
As they walked to one of the chicken sheds, Brooker asked, “How many you need?”
“I should think about six,” Elmo answered.
They entered the low-slung building, and Brooker pointed out, “This is where we keep the hens for mating.”
Elmo noted the roosters screeching at the top of their lungs.
Brooker began gathering eggs, about a dozen, and then motioned for Elmo to follow him to a small room. “This is where we candle the eggs to see if they’ve been fertilized.” He held the eggs up to the light, and after testing nine, had six fertile ones. “Here you are, son.” He handed Elmo a six-egg carton.
“How much?” asked Elmo.
The price surprised him. He was charged three times as much as he usually paid for a dozen eggs.
Brooker walked Elmo to his car and remade his point, “You sure you will use these eggs for an experiment and not hatch them. And what kind of experiment are we talking anyway?”
Elmo hesitated before answering, “Nate, the experiment is kind of complicated.”
“Well, what the hell isn’t nowadays,” Brooker asked.
“And, Nate, if my experiment works, some of the eggs will hatch.”
“Shit, I knew it.” Brooker was developing a slow burn, so Elmo rapidly said.
“Tell you what,” said Elmo, “if any of the eggs do hatch, I’ll bring the chickens back to you along with the empty shells. Also, I’ll return any fertilized eggs I don’t use.” Elmo thought this would assure Brooker that there was nothing but an experiment going on.
“No, son,” Brooker said. “For some stupid reason I guess I can trust you. I’m sure you won’t start a chicken farm. You’re not the type.”
Elmo could see a slight change in Brooker’s demeanor, the man appeared to relax, somewhat, and said, “Okay, son, I’ll hold you to your word.” With that Brooker walked back to his office and Elmo had his subjects for his next experiment.
Elmo was relieved to observe this vote of confidence. He walked to his car and was about to drive away when he realized he forgot to ask some very important questions. He got out of his car and went to the office, opened the door, and saw Brooker at work sitting at his desk.
“Mr. Brooker,” Elmo asked, “how long will it take the eggs to hatch, and what is the lifespan of a chicken?”
Brooker said, “Fella, you sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who does not intend to raise chickens.”
Elmo could see doubt replacing the relaxed expression Brooker had had before. Elmo quickly said, “This is just information I need to conduct my experiment.” And said once more, “ I am willing to return the chickens, if you want.”
With some trepidation, Brooker said, “That’s okay, son. If you screw me, I’ll find out about it and there will be hell to pay.” Brooker answered the questions and returned to his work.
Elmo was worried that he had asked too many questions. I could have looked that information up in a library,” he muttered.
The day Elmo purchased the eggs was a Friday. The following morning, after a hearty breakfast, and then lingering over coffee, Elmo said to his wife, “Mil, I think I have some grip on the question of what is happening in my time machine, but I need to perform three more experiments. Please, dear, come into the cellar with me. I want a witness to what I am about to attempt. You may be witnessing history.”
Mildred had been through this scenario so many times before. She loved Elmo, but knew how he would react when the experiment did not work, and she was sure that it wouldn’t although the fact that Elmo thought it kind of worked still baffled her. She did not understand his excitement after the rat experiment. With the prospect of something going wrong she knew he would sulk for days and remain to himself, and this was the beginning of the weekend, the only time they spent extended time together. Trying to inject some enthusiasm in her voice, she said, “Okay, Elmo, but don’t get too disappointed if you don’t achieve the results you expect.” She saw the usual glazed eyes before Elmo performed an experiment. He turned and went down the cellar stairs. She followed him not knowing what to expect.
After arriving at the bottom of the stairs, Mildred immediately noticed, sitting near the ‘Time Machine’, a half carton of eggs and said, “Elmo, these eggs should be in the fridge.”
“No, my dear, these are very special eggs, historic eggs, and putting them in the cold might kill them.”
“Oh, Elmo, how can you kill an egg?”
“Mil, these are special eggs. They have been fertilized.”
Elmo looked at his wife and from the expression on her face knew an explanation was required. “You see, Mil, I think I can explain the results of my rat experiments. I’m about to attempt the definitive experiments that will confirm my theory.”
Mildred smiled and prepared herself for the worst. She was beginning to plan what she would do for the next two days without her husband. That’s at least as long as it would take, she thought, him to get over a failure.
Elmo, not catching the doubt on Mildred’s face, placed two eggs into the chamber and began adjusting dials, and then started the process. Once again the interior of the chamber produced great flashes and filled with mist. When it cleared, there stood two baby chicks.
Mildred looked with wonder at the results, and said, “Oh, Elmo, they’re so cute. Now your machine can kill rats and hatch eggs.” She was quite afraid to ask the next question but couldn’t help herself. “Elmo, are you happy with the results?”
“Extremely, my dear. There are two more experiments to perform which will completely verify what the machine is doing.” With that he selected two more eggs, was about to remove the chicks, but decided to leave them in the chamber. Once again he adjusted the dials, and began the experiment, once again the chamber filled with sparks and mist. When it cleared, there stood four chickens clucking their heads off.
Mildred saw the manic gleam in Elmo’s eyes. She saw the same look when her mother’s china teacup disappeared. “Maybe that’s enough,” she said to Elmo. What she was really saying was maybe he should quit while he was ahead, if he was ahead. She actually couldn’t tell. But she also knew nothing she could do or say would stop him now.
She could see the joy in Elmo’s face, and he began doing his little dance, as he shouted, “It worked! It worked!”
Mildred did not understand the reason for Elmo’s excitement. “Elmo, I thought the subject of the experiment was supposed to travel into the future, or perhaps the past. Something definitely happened, but they stayed in the chamber.”
“I know, Mil. There still remain some details to be worked out, but don’t you see, time changed within the chamber. Granted, the subject was supposed to leave the chamber and travel through time, but for now, the time change is occurring in situ.
Mildred was confused, she asked, “In whatto?”
“In situ into the future, and then reappear after the end of the experiment, at the end of the, my dear, it means in place. The subject in the chamber was supposed to disappear preset length of the trial, exactly as he was before he left.”
Mildred said, “Okay, Elmo, but that didn’t happen. The eggs didn’t go anywhere. They just hatched in the chamber.”
“Thanks for noticing that little detail,” Elmo responded. “Granted, this experiment is not free of problems, but I feel I am on the right path to creating a time machine. You see, the subject ages in accordance with the time set for the subject’s journey. That is why, in my first series of experiments, when I sent the rat twenty years into the future a rat’s skeleton was the result.
Leaving the four chickens in the chamber, Elmo reset the dials and then stood back with great anticipation. He began the experiment and when the mist cleared all that was left were four chicken skeletons.
Mildred began to hate this infernal machine, whatever entered it would eventually die, rats, chickens, what was next? She believed in her husband, and something was definitely happening, but whatever it was it wasn’t good. She was amazed when Elmo began jumping up and down and dancing around the cellar. He shouted, “It works! It works! He then grabbed Mildred continuing to dance and shout.
ELMO’S INVENTION: CHAPTER 2, THE TIME MACHINE
CHAPTER 2
THE TIME MACHINE
When Elmo did arrive home that night, Mildred was full of vinegar. As he walked through the door, she shouted, “In God’s name, Elmo, what on earth are you going to do with an iron lung?”
Elmo’s eyes brightened, “It came! I can’t wait to begin my next project.”
Mildred repeated, with added anger, “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH AN IRON LUNG, AND HOW MUCH DID THIS THING COST?” She could see Elmo’s eyes glaze over when he first heard of its delivery. In the past, this had never been a good sign of things to come.
“Mildred, I’m going to build a time machine.”
Mildred stared at Elmo with the heat of hostility in her eyes, and said, “You are forbidden to use any of my mother’s China,”
Elmo, trying to look contrite, said, “Mil, that will never happen again. I promise you. Anyway, this experiment requires live subjects.
Mildred shouted at the top of her lungs, “I AM NOT GOING INTO THAT THING!”
“My dear, I will never use a person until my theory is proven. But there will come a time when I need a volunteer.”
“Not me.”
“I can assure you, my beloved, it will not be you.”
Mildred gazed into Elmo’s eyes and felt no comfort. He had been known, in the heat of a scientific effort, to go back on his oath.
* * *
Many months passed during which Mildred was not allowed to venture into the cellar. Elmo forbad her entry until the equipment for his experiment was completed. If she needed anything from below, he would gladly get it for her. Just to ensure his secrecy, he attached a sturdy padlock on the outside of the cellar door and he had the only key. All this security did not do much to increase Mildred’s comfort level.
Then one sunny Saturday morning Elmo announced, “Mil, my time machine is finished. I can’t wait to show it to you.”
With a great deal of trepidation, Mildred followed Elmo down the cellar stairs where a large shape was concealed under a canvass shroud. Mildred could tell that Elmo wanted to build mystery while he presented his invention.
“Now, my dear, I present to you Elmo’s Time Machine.”
He pulled at the canvass, and there beneath was the iron lung, but greatly altered. If it had been decades later, Mildred would have said, “The tanning bed has already been invented,” for that is what Elmo’s invention resembled.
Elmo beamed as his wife beheld his creation. The top of the iron lung had been altered. It was now hinged to allow someone to climb in and lie down. The base held a complex array of dials and meters, the controls of the device.
Mildred looked in wonder at the device, and she couldn’t help it. Her curiosity got the best of her. She had seen the results of Elmo’s past experiments, but in spite of herself, she had to ask, “Elmo, what does it do?”
“I told you, Mil, it’s my Time Machine.”
Then she noticed, for the first time, cages of rats and asked, “What are the rats for? And if any escape you are going to be in so much trouble.”
Elmo forced a smile, for he knew Mildred had a temper. He had already pushed the limits of her anger more than once and did not care to explore that territory again. He explained, “They are the test subjects. You didn’t expect me to get in there for the first test.”
Mildred recalled the experiment with her china teacup, and said, “I would hope not.” Yet Elmo could not miss the brief smile that appeared on her face.
Elmo hurried to interject, “I need live subjects for this device,” as he pointed to the rats. “Let me explain my theory to you. It is quite …” He was thinking of saying simple, but instead said, “Complicated,” for he knew Mildred would require the simplest of explanations.
Mildred sat down and prepared herself for an explanation that she was sure would be long and one she would not understand.
Elmo began, “I’ve been thinking, for quite some time now, about the universe and Albert Einstein’s famous equation, E = mc². We consider space to be infinite. I reasoned that if the speed of light was constant, then the relationship between mass and energy must also be constant. Therefore, in the infinity of space, matter and energy do have a limit.
“My thinking settled on the constant of the speed of light, c². What if the speed of light could be changed; then, to keep everything in equilibrium, time would also have to change, if c² was to remain a constant. It’s pretty simple really, to change time you merely have to change the speed of light.
“As we know from Einstein, everything is relative. So, I toyed with the idea of changing the speed of light to change time. If c² was truly a constant, I could go forward or backward in time depending on how I changed the speed of light. If this held to be true, if I could increase the speed of light, time would slow. If I were able to slow the speed of light, time would increase.”
Mildred stared at Elmo and said, “My head hurts.”
Elmo, of course, disregarded this comment and pressed on. “I then designed a chamber with a series of magnets and mirrors to manipulate the speed of light. If the concept of relativity held, then time in the chamber would adjust to the varying speeds of light. The result is my Time Machine. I know that time machines are something out of science fiction. Fictional time machines would transport the subject into the past or future. Always, transporting into the past, as most stories go, had the risk of changing the future. I reasoned that going into the future had the same risks. Because, that future would be someone’s past. Therefore, to make as little impact as possible, my machine stays here, only the subject travels. You can’t imagine how difficult this thought process was to ensure absolute safety.
“I’m sure I can’t,” mumbled Mildred.
“However, there were important precautions that needed to be considered. Namely, viruses, fungi and bacteria that might travel along, in either direction, with the time traveler. You see, my dear, all clothing worn by the time traveler must be thoroughly sanitized along with the traveler and the machine. We wouldn’t carry any unknowns into the time being explored. By the same token, everything the time traveler wore would, along with the machine and the traveler, also need to be sanitized when he returned. I plan to work out any other details which may arise.”
“I’m sure you will,” Mildred said while rolling her eyes.
Once his lecture was completed, Elmo smiled. He was filled with his own brilliance.
Mildred loved her husband, loved his eccentricities, but this was too much to swallow. “Elmo, remember my teacup. You had that all figured out too.”
Elmo could see he was losing ground with Mildred, but he held firm. “Mildred, my dear, this invention is much different. With my earlier machine, granted, I had not worked out all the details. My matter transference machine had a few quirks that just needed to be worked out. Granted, I may have used it prematurely. However, my time machine has been through extensive planning and calculations, and, of course, it will need to be tested. I’m sure that it will work. The difference with this invention is that it will need a living subject.
“This sounds very familiar, Elmo. You assured me that my teacup would be safe, and now it is gone.”
Elmo rapidly interjected, “This machine is fool proof.” He noticed Mildred’s eyebrows rise when he said the word ‘fool’. He continued, “I have gone over my calculations again and again. I’m sure it will work.”
Mildred sat looking at Elmo and he could read the doubt on her face. He knew he had to talk fast. Also, he needed someone to witness the test of his invention, to witness history being made.”
Finally, Mildred said, “As long as none of my china is involved, I guess I can watch.”
Elmo beamed, “Watch this, Mil. This test of my Time Machine will be recorded in history books.”
Elmo went to a cage, selected a rat, and settled the animal into his machine’s chamber and closed the lid. He set the time advance device for one year and the length of the journey for ten minutes. If all went right, and he was sure it would, the rat should disappear, and after ten minutes, reappear from its trip into the future. Through a small porthole at the top of the chamber he observed the rat, expecting the animal to disappear.
Once the machine was started, a series of blinding flashes filled the chamber, along with heavy mist. In seconds the mist cleared, and Elmo looked down on the rat. Nothing happened to the rat.
Once the supposed ten-minute trip was over, Elmo raised the lid of the chamber, and the rat calmly stared into his face. The experiment was a failure.
Elmo was sure of his calculations. He looked at Mildred, who was shaking her head, not saying anything. “Dear, it didn’t work.
“I’m sure it was a valiant attempt, Elmo, but not everything goes the way you expect.”
Gazing at the rat, Elmo decided to give it another try. “My dear,” he said, “maybe there is an unforeseen limitation in the apparatus. Perhaps it does not function correctly for such a short time span as one year.
“I shall attempt to send my subject twenty years into the future.” He adjusted the dials and initiated the machine’s process. Once again the interior of the chamber began to flash, and a heavy blanket of mist obscured the interior. After the mist cleared, Elmo gazed at the skeleton of the rat.
Mildred observed the same result, and with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, said, “Elmo, you have apparently invented a process to kill rats, but first you have to catch them.” As she looked at her husband, she immediately regretted her comment. He was devastated by the results. She went to him and gave him a hug, and said, “I’m sure it just needs a little fine-tuning.” Knowing Elmo wanted to be alone, she went upstairs and left him in the cellar with his machine and thoughts.
Elmo spent the next few hours going over all his diagrams and compared them to the device he constructed. No fault became readily apparent. “Maybe there was some kind of power fluctuation that caused some sort of anomaly. That’s it. That has to be it.”
With new invigoration, Elmo went to the cages and selected another rat which he deposited in the chamber. He first set all the controls to zero and then duplicated the conditions of the last experiment. Once again flashes, and then a dense mist filled the chamber. When the mist cleared, he hurried to observe the results only to see another rat skeleton.
“It’s a failure. I’m a failure,” he shouted.”
After climbing the stairs Mildred heard Elmo’s muffled shouts. She knew he was feeling down and went out of her way not to antagonize him. She had learned when to be playful and when to be serious with her husband.
Elmo came up the stairs and sat in the living room, in the dark, until dinner was ready. He pondered the results of his experiment. There was no doubt that something had happened, but what? Why should a rat survive when the machine was set for one year, yet not survive when the time was set for 20 years? He racked his brain but could not come up with the answer. He had gone over the wiring diagram and compared it to the machine; everything was fine. Perhaps there was a problem with the basic science. Blocking out the world around him, he let his mind wander for an answer. After a short time, a smile grew on his face and, he shouted, “That’s it! That’s it!” and began dancing around the living room.
Mildred sometimes thought that he suffered from manic depression. Elmo’s actions now only strengthened that opinion. She mentally prepared herself and called, “Elmo, dinner.”
Her husband lightly danced into the dining room, held her in his arms and danced to his own inner music. He whirled Mildred around and there was joy in his eyes. Mildred tried to catch her breath, and then asked, “Why are you so happy, Elmo? Your experiment failed. At first nothing happened, you tried again and killed the rat. I wouldn’t call that a reason to be happy.”
Elmo giggled and replied, “You missed it. I tried again and killed yet a second rat.”
Mildred questioned, “And you call that a success, something to celebrate?”
“Well, in the strictest sense of the word, it was not a success, but something happened within that chamber. I’m considering my experiment a partial, tentative success. Better yet, I think I know what happened.”
“Then what did happen, Elmo?”
“I’m not going to say just yet. I need to run a few more experiments. Tomorrow, after work, I’m going to Brooker’s farm.”
“You mean the farm where we buy our eggs?”
“That’s right, Mil. I need some very special eggs, historical eggs.”
Mildred stared at Elmo and now was sure he was manic.
ELMO’S INVENTION: CHAPTER 1, ELMO’S WORKSHOP, THE BEGINNING OF THE TIME MACHINE
ELMO’S INVENTION
CHAPTER 1
ELMO’S WORKSHOP
“Mildred,” Elmo Baker shouted, “Come down here. I have something important to show you.” Standing at the base of the cellar stairs, Elmo was in his usual excited state when a project was completed. Of medium build, with a broad face and a mass of curly black hair, Elmo’s passion was science, physics in particular. Mildred, with great trepidation, began walking down the stairs to the cellar. At the base of the stairs stood Elmo, beaming, not a good sign, and Mildred could tell by the twinkle in his eye as she approached her husband, that a demonstration or explanation of an invention was about to take place. And that twinkle would slowly if the experiment failed, which was often the case.
The year was 1966, and Mildred loved Elmo so, but shortly after their marriage three years ago, it became clear how intense Elmo’s love for science was and that love would follow them all of their lives. Mildred loved Elmo’s sense of curiosity but not the prospect of cleaning up the destruction, the mess of a failed experiment.
“Come here, Mil, I’ve got something to show you.” Elmo held out his hand to Mildred and said, “You have got to see this. I’m ready to make the first test.”
Mildred was not looking forward to what Elmo might present to her. Her husband was one of the first ‘dumpster divers’. Los Alamos was the government facility known for its research of the atom, and it was where Elmo worked. And he knew that when an experiment failed, some of the materials that went into the effort were tossed, deemed trash. Lab bosses also discarded equipment they considered ‘obsolete’ to be replaced by the latest version. But Elmo thought of this trash as treasure. This was much to Elmo’s benefit and was the source that supplied his cellar laboratory. At the end of his workday at his Los Alamos lab, Elmo would back his car up to the dumpster area and go to work. On many days, he would come home with the backseat of his Chevy filled with scientific odds and ends. To Elmo, Los Alamos’ trash was the building blocks of his inventions.
Elmo led Mildred to the corner of the cellar where he had his workbench and lab of the cellar. The remainder of the room was occupied by the usual accumulation of life which now had no use but never thrown away. Below a bare overhead bulb was his invention. Which looked to Mildred like and iron lung, one she had seen delivered. Elmo could see the confusion on his wife’s face, and proudly said, “Doll, I have invented a time machine.”
* * *
Mildred kept her love for Elmo strong, although that could be difficult at times.
Elmo was two years older than Mildred. He was handsome, but that was not what had attracted Mildred to him. It was his passion for a new curiosity he discovered, usually scientific. He found the world of science fascinating, with the wonder of a child enthralled by a rattle. At times he could sit for hours just thinking and occasionally smiling. However, the toys that mystified him were sometimes slightly more dangerous than a toy.
Mildred could not recall how many times Elmo called from the cellar, “Call the fire department!” Shortly thereafter, dense smoke would issue from the open cellar door and begin to fill the kitchen. This was long before 911 existed. Mildred knew the phone number of the local fire department by heart.
She recalled the time Elmo constructed two small chambers attached by wires to an intricate control device with a host of dials and flashing lights. The device was meant to transfer objects through space. He wanted to test the machine before building the full-scale model.
Unfortunately for Mildred, she had been busy in the cellar doing some unpacking. She wanted to display in her hutch the beautiful delicate six china teacups and saucers her mother had left her. She knew exactly where they were packed and couldn’t wait to see them again.
The search did not take long, and while admiring one of the cups, she heard Elmo mutter, “I need something small.” He happened to glance at Mildred and exclaimed, “Perfect.”
Before she realized what her husband was up to, he grabbed a cup and put it in one of the chambers.
“Elmo, what are you doing? That was my mother’s cup!” shouted Mildred. “It’s precious to me.”
Elmo was only half listening as he began turning dials and focusing his attention on the chamber containing the cup. “Don’t worry, Mildred. Your cup is perfectly safe. I’m just going to send it to the chamber at the other end of my workbench.”
Much to Mildred’s surprise, her vision of the cup appeared to waver, and then disappears.
Much to Elmo’s surprise, it did not reappear in the other chamber.
“Don’t worry, Mildred. Let’s just give it some time.”
An hour later Mildred went storming up the stairs with five cups and six saucers, angry and sad at her loss.
Elmo continued to stare at the second chamber scratching his head and repeating over and over again, “I wonder where it went.” He was happy that his wife wasn’t there when suddenly he began laughing hysterically, thinking of the cup suddenly appearing someplace quite by surprise and mystifying some unsuspecting person. He was sure the cup went somewhere as matter. For if it had been converted to energy, all that would be left of his house and most of the surrounding area would be cinders.
THE BEGINNING OF THE TIME MACHINE
One day after visiting the supermarket, although in those days they weren’t very super, Mildred was pulling her two-wheeled shopping cart down the street and was amazed to see a pickup parked in her driveway. It was three in the afternoon, and four burly men stood behind the truck. They looked relieved when they saw her approach. In the bed of the truck was a huge piece of equipment. Mildred recognized it immediately. It was an iron lung.
Just recently, the newly developed polio vaccine began distribution on sugar cubes. Gradually iron lungs were no longer needed. However, Mildred had lived with the fear of polio, knew people who had contracted the disease. Some still depended on the device for their lives to continue. “Where do you want this, lady?” asked the man obviously in charge.
“I don’t want it anywhere,” answered Mildred. She had no idea why they had brought this to her home. Then her mind had a flash, Elmo.
“Does an Elmo Baker live here?” the man asked.
There it was. Her husband had bought an iron lung. Shaking her head, Mildred said, “I’m sure it belongs in the cellar. I’ll show you the way.”
After many grunts and groans, the machine rested on its wheels in the cellar.
“What could Elmo want with this thing?” pondered Mildred out loud.
Hearing Mildred one of the men said, “I don’t know nothing, lady. We just deliver.”
The crew went back upstairs and climbed into their truck and left. And Elmo had some explaining to do when he came home from work.
RECENT PUBLICATION, CLIFF’S NOTE
The Corner Bar recently accepted my short story, Cliff’s Note, and it has just been published. Here is a link if you would like to read it.
The story appears in the 2026, April 30 issue.
ANDY WEIR: PATRON SAINT OF SELF-PUBLISHING
ANDY WEIR: PATRON SAINT OF SELF-PUBLISHING
I nominate Andy Weir for patron saint of self-publishing. I sincerely think he has earned that title.
Weir’s work first caught attention when he published some work online. Next came his novel, The Martian, which he self-published. That novel made The New York Times bestseller list and was eventually made into what became a popular movie.
The reason I am writing this piece is because the novel was self-published.
The road from self-published to fame is less than certain, and that’s putting it mildly. First requirement for writing success no matter how much you desire publication is that you must be a competent writer, actually more than just competent. I once was a member of a writer’s group meeting at Barnes & Noble, and the moderator of the group was employed by the bookstore. She stated that the store did not carry self-published books because the quality of many of the books was embarrassing. There is no gatekeeper for self-published books. The only hurdle to getting a book published is money.
Now back to Andy Weir.
I’m sure he worked his ass off, riding around with a trunk full of books and taking every opportunity to make a sale. I’m also quite sure that he had friends who were willing to work their asses off to help with sales. He also must have had a great deal of confidence in his writing ability. I say this because to make an impact with a self-published book must require selling a large quantity of books which requires an author buying a large quantity of books which requires a large quantity of money.
After The Martian Weir came out with a second novel, Artemis. The only review I saw for that novel was not very encouraging.
Next he published Project Hail Mary which made The New York Times bestseller list and went on to become a very successful movie.
I hope this review of Weir’s work provides the reason I am considering Andy Weir the patron saint of self-publishing. Thousands upon thousands of self-published books exist, published by authors with varying purposes in mind. But as in religion where many believers try to model their lives after that of their favorite saint for life in the eternal. If it is possible for you to duplicate some of the elements of Weir’s career, you just might hit the bestseller jackpot.
SECOND CHANCE: SPACE EXPLORATION?
Here is the story dealing with a planet’s decision not to invest in space exploration.
Second Chance has been published twice. The first publication was by Books To Go Nowin2011 and the second by Separate Worlds in 2013.
Second Chance
Richard Walsh, 95, relaxed in his backyard beach chair. The air was crystal clear; this was highly unusual for the smog, blown in from the coastal cities, often obscured the sky. He enjoyed this rare moment and felt at peace as he gazed at a host of constellations. Richard prided himself on being able to identify every one visible in his piece of the sky. He chose to live in the desert, much to the dismay of his wife Molly, 80, in order to fulfil his passion for the universe.
They had married forty years ago and were beginning to feel their age. “Why can’t we live closer to Debbie?” Molly constantly asked.
He would answer, “We can fly to visit her and be there in less than two hours. I need the night sky for my studies. I need to be far away from the maddening city lights, but even here, the smog is a problem.” Secretly, he wished they could move farther from the pollution, but they were too old to begin life again in a new location.
Richard was a science writer and worked from home. As he gazed up at the stars, he would mutter, “Someday, man will make journeys into space that I cannot even imagine. That is where our future lies. I’m sorry I will miss it.”
* * *
Richard, now an old man, thought he would live to see the beginning of his dream realized. Voyages eventually were made to the world’s moon and Richard died thinking his dreams would be realized. But the exploration of the moon was as far as space travel went. There were too many problems to tend to on the planet, as the population continued to grow and resources were devoured.
GENERATIONS LATER
Dr. Gregor Adomski, with his bushy eyebrows and lion’s mane of gray hair, was an astronomer. At age 73, he had never lost his child-like amazement of the heavens. He was an advocate of space exploration. However, there wasn’t a government on the planet that would spend the money to make the jump into space. For generations, the fact that their world would someday cease to exist was known. Scientists could predict cosmic events, but they had little influence on how the information was incorporated in future practices. Those decisions were more of a political nature, at times not based on any reality at all. At the time of destruction, the sun would expand, engulfing their world, and then pull back to become a cindered dwarf.
Adomski also noted a growing trend. Due to the planet’s growing population, weather conditions had deteriorated during the last fifty years. These changes resulted in massive crop failures and a ‘once in a century’ storm became a common occurrence. Turning to his assistant, Dr. Jeff Farber, Adomski said, “Our world cannot continue this trend. Civilization is in a downward spiral. We still have time to take action to ensure the survival of our society. Man was meant to explore the universe, to push the limits of his existence. Perhaps future generations can reach distant planets of solar systems that have yet to be discovered. Time is of the essence. We must act now or accept our fate.”
Jeff shared Adomski’s concern. The planet’s doom loomed in the distant future. Yet, most of the planet’s inhabitants were too occupied with their daily lives to care about an event that would not occur for thousands of generations. The average person thought, Why should I care about what happens in the distant future when I need to feed my family now?
Satellites had been launched, but their purpose was to monitor and improve communications of the planet. Jeff hoped that someday space exploration would begin. But his heart told him it would not be so; the planet was consumed by too many problems to make precious resources available for space exploration. When he went home and shared his concerns with his wife, Janet, she shared the mindset of the planet’s population.
She would say, “Why do you need to worry about something so distant when there are so many problems facing the planet here and now? I just don’t understand your priorities.”
Jeff and his wife never really argued. Avoiding arguments with his wife had resulted in two children, both girls and both images of their mother. Farber and Janet desperately wanted to be parents. At the same time, because of the population’s immediate problems, he felt guilty of their need. His only reassuring thought was that, through the technological advances over thousands of years, vast efforts to improve the life of mankind were made.
Farber had recently visited a farm; most of the population of the planet was encouraged to do so to see that the governments were staying ahead of any crisis. The tour was led by Stuart Gromley, more of a scientist than a farmer, but that was what was necessary these days to provide the food needed by the ever-expanding population.
Gromley began his tour, which would be short, for in reality farms no longer existed, land was too precious, to grow crops greenhouses the size of skyscrapers were used. Through enhanced fertilizers and crop genetics, what would have taken thousands of acres to grow took just one acre of land. Farms went vertical. Gromley was proud of his farm and said to the tour, “As you can see, not an ounce of precious soil is wasted. Also, hydro farming allows us to grow any crops we want with only water and chemicals. Healthy food is brought to your table with little drain on the planet.”
The hand of a young woman shot up.
Gromley muttered, “Shit, there always has to be one,” and then said out loud, “Do you have a question?”
“Yes,” she responded, “I have read papers stating that some of these chemicals used to produce our food can build up in our bodies and produce cancers.”
Gromley shared a secret thought that many of his profession shared, Honey, would you rather die now of starvation or die later of cancer? But no one ever said this out loud.
Gromley held his temper and said, “Studies are still ongoing to see if these claims are true. Our research, up until now, has not proven any of these claims.” He did not share the fact that the research was nonexistent.
As health and education methods improved and extended greatly the lifespan of the world compounding the problems facing civilization.
TEN THOUSAND GENERATIONS LATER
Adomski and Farber were long dust. The fears they shared for the planet were forgotten.
Laws were passed by the most technologically advanced nations and space travel was ignored in favor of improving the condition of humanity. As these decisions were made, scientists on the planet predicted the maximum population the planet could support. Centuries since that prediction, the population of the planet soared to double that prediction. Yet, with further advances in technology, life continued. However, turmoil broke out on the planet. The more advanced countries continued to live fairly well, but the third world countries were in chaos. These circumstances reinforced the opponents of space exploration in favor of helping the people.
After dinner, Alex Reed, an expert in population dynamics, went to his study and quietly closed the door, blocking out the sounds of his children at play before their bedtime. He did this more and more often to turn on his computer and review the history of his planet and the dreams of space exploration attributed to the writings of Dr. Adomski and a host of the scientist that came along after his death. They all shared the hope that exploration of the universe would go forward and save the species.
Reed was both a scientist and an intellectual. He studied the great accomplishments made in art and literature going back thousands of years, but as a scientist, he knew that at some distant day it would all be destroyed. “All of this will be nothing but cinders,” he said to no one there. “All these magnificent accomplishments of the planet will be lost. Is it too late to think about the preservation of history, of the great works produced?”
Reed remembered well the warnings Dr. Adomski had postulated and could not believe how self-centered the people of the planet had become. Even now, with the time of its demise calculated, the population remained uninterested in space exploration. He reasoned that he was only a scientist and had no power over the decisions that determine the destiny of the planet. Elected officials made policy and the rest of humanity, and relying on their intelligence, would have to accept the judgement. Election and power were more important than reality.
EIGHTY THOUSAND GENERATIONS LATER
The planet was populated beyond belief. Every acre of land had hundreds of residents and resources were being stretched to the limit. When all the land was occupied, floating cities were constructed. It was not long before the entire surface was in use, reducing the planet to a seething cauldron of toxins and waste. Conditions had been deteriorating for many thousands of years, but they now accelerated in astronomical proportions. Food riots had begun and, more frequently, water riots. As predicted, the sun was getting brighter and spontaneous fires erupted, destroying vast areas and populations. The world was one large metropolis and there was nowhere to run; nowhere to escape the final result.
President Addis, leader of half the planet’s population, summoned top scientists for a conference to discuss the world’s future. The president sat patiently and listened to their talks.
All were the same, full of hope, yet unable to dictate a plan that would save man.
In attendance was Dr. Scious Minnori. She was the world’s leading authority on the state of the planet; the president listened to her speech. The message was most disheartening.
She began by saying, “My presentation will be brief. Our planet, our species, is doomed. I see no hope for any intervention that can alter the future. Our resources are stretched beyond the ability to support the population. Our future will be nothing but turmoil for the strong to survive.
“Our planet is beyond repair. There is no error in the calculations. In approximately twenty thousand years, the sun in its death throws will engulf our world. Until then, our existence will be that of a constant conflict. The only peace our people will know is at the end of our existence.
“We have waited too long to ensure the survival of our people. Now, it is not possible to journey into space, even though there is time. At this point, to build a facility for space exploration would displace hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people. On the entire planet, there is no room for such a center for space exploration. We are at a loss to save our civilization”
The president, however, missed one presentation that shared a glimmer of hope for the future, not for the planet but for the species, and provided statistics that speculated the proposition that Homo sapiens was not doomed. It was held in a small room with seating for less than thirty. The speaker was Dr. Fermi Rialtos, a bacteriologist. The presentation was so esoteric that it was not considered worthy of the president’s attention.
There were only ten scientists in the audience.
Dr. Rialtos began his talk by saying, “The bacteria I primarily study are E. coli. One of the purposes in my use of these bacteria was the study of evolution. The benefit to studying these organisms is that one can observe thousands of generations in a short period of time. “I inoculated twelve flasks of bacteria and studied them for 30,000 generations with the E. coli exposed to identical conditions through the course of the study. At the conclusion of the experiment, I analyzed the genetics of all twelve flasks. Their pattern of development was identical.
“I feel this demonstrates that evolution is not random. Given similar conditions, life will progress in a similar manner.
“I am also something of an amateur astronomer. There are hundreds of stars, around which planets have or are presently forming. The attributes of some of these planets are similar to our planet, millions of years in the past.”
Dr. Rialtos went on to describe the conditions on some of these recently discovered planets. “One planet I have been studying is very young, a mere neophyte, but I think there may be a possibility that it may someday harbor life. The star it orbits is slightly larger than our own sun, making their years slightly longer, but the planet’s position is a close approximation to that of our own world in relation to our sun. I feel it may be capable of supporting life. We have discovered so many planets in the universe. Perhaps our civilization will be replicated in the cosmos with more lasting results”
He finished by saying, “Embrace your children every day and enjoy the life you have.”
* * *
Toward the end of their world, the population prayed to the God they believed would save them. But God had other plans.
* * *
The end of civilization was not pretty.
In the distant past, it would have been survival of the fittest. But now, thanks to globalization and shared technology, all populations of the planet were on an even footing. Equals fought equals to the death to exist. And in the end, as the sun spent the last of its life-giving force, the last of the species perished.
* * *
On a planet millions of light-years away, backyards were full of people looking skyward, straining to see the star-like light racing across the heavens. The year was 1957.
Tim Riddell, age five, stood outside with his parents. His father, Eli, told him what to look for and where to look. As they watched, the Riddell family could hear voices all around them as neighbors also looked to the heavens.
This was an historic event. It was the first of its kind. Earth was being orbited by a man-made machine.
Tim began to shout, “I see it! I see it!” and his small arm pointed skyward.
All around people also began to point and shout, “There it is!”
Liz, Tim’s mom, said to no one in particular, “I feel so exposed.”
Eli smiled and said, “Tonight, I want to be your Sputnik.”
The space race was on. Sputnik made history for the U.S.S.R. Later, after many embarrassing attempts, the U.S. also launched a satellite. The race would last for decades and initiate Earth’s journey into space.
* * *
The year was now 3093, and the advances in science and space travel were beyond belief. Those who stood in their backyards gazing up at the sky only witnessed the beginning. Science and mankind had developed a propulsion system that enables man to visit the closest neighboring solar system. At the same time, great advances were made in astronomy with platforms installed in deep space
One day, Dr. Theo Thurber was monitoring one of the platforms when alarm bells began to ring indicating an event worthy of study. He rushed to his monitor in time to witness the beginning of the death of a distant star. The bright glow of its passing lasted for weeks, and then slowly dimmed and disappeared.
After the initial observation, Dr. Thurber dictated into his records, “Witnessed the death of a distant star two million light years away. Nothing unusual. This is not a significant event, but it was”
© Copyright 2013 Walt Trizna. All rights reserved.
THE SUPERIOR SPECIES: A SHORT STORY PREDICTING THE PAST
This is an unpublished story.
THE SUPERIOR SPECIES
30,000 YEARS IN THE PAST
The two men sat atop a snow-covered mountain looking down on a land that would one day become Switzerland. Their prominent brows and wide noses marked them as a distinct species, one of two inhabiting this land. The other was an aggressive tribe that they watched. That they feared. With their high nasal voices, the two communicated their feelings to each other, the love for the land that lay before them.
They did not see the band of ten savages obscured by the falling snow approach the hill on which they sat. They appreciated the beauty that surrounded them. The area was covered in a thick blanket of snow, and they were sure that there would be more to come. Recently, the period of snow and ice had been extreme. The lithe figures approached, preparing to attack. With spears held high, the savages crept up on the pair. As one of the muscular men talked to his companion, a spear pierced his breast. His companion rose and was himself impaled by a spear. The savages celebrated their kill in a most gruesome fashion.
THE DISCOVERY
John and Paul had hiked the Alps of Switzerland for most of their lives. Friends in England since their youth, they both chose to seek employment in Switzerland to be near the mountains they loved. Both enjoyed the solitude, hiking the mountains high above the point where novice hikers would stop. As they hiked that June day, they would have an experience they would never forget, an experience that would alter mankind’s perception of his place on this planet.
While on the lower levels of the Alps, they drank in the fragrance of the sentinel pine. And as the winter ice retreated, they had to climb higher and higher to enjoy the solitude they cherished. This June day, they hiked into an ice-shrouded valley that was new to them. Paul was the first to notice a dark mass protruding from the ice halfway up the valley wall. It stood out black against the pristine ice.
“Do you see that, John?” Paul pointed. “I’m going to check it out.”
As Paul approached, a slight wind ruffled Paul’s quarry.
“John, come up here! It’s hair.”
The two men approached. They could make out a shape in the ice beneath the hair. They peered into the ice, and both came to the same conclusion. Buried in the ice was the body of a man.
* * *
The two police officers responding to the Englishmen’s call were used to this sort of thing. Hikers were often lost in the Alps. When egos outdistanced skill and training, along with a lack of preparation, the results were often disastrous. And when the weather became unforgiving, they weren’t found until the first thaw. The two officers worked to reveal more of the body by chipping away some of the ice. The face was revealed along with other details. The more ice they cleared from the body, the more both men knew they were not uncovering an ordinary hiker.
“We had better place guards and call the university in Zurich.”
* * *
Dr. Hans Bueler looked down on the body. He could not hide his excitement. As he examined the corpse, he talked to the policemen protecting the site.
As his investigation proceeded, he said, “Gentlemen, I do not know if you appreciate the magnitude of this find. This is, by far, the greatest discovery in the study of our ancient ancestors to date. You will notice the prominent brow, wide nose and lack of chin. Also notice the muscular shoulders. I will require further study, but I am positive this is the body of a Neanderthal.
“I am sure you also have noticed the cause of death. I refer to the spear point protruding from this individual’s chest. Gentlemen, this is a crime scene, a murder. However, you will never apprehend the murderer, for this crime took place thousands and thousands of years ago.
TO BE CONTINUED
MY PREDICTION OF THE PAST AND FUTURE IN A SHORT STORY ABOUT THE NEANDERTHALS
I’m returning to the primary purpose of this blog, telling stories. But I had to take a detour lately. There is too much going on in this country to ignore.
MY PREDICTION OF THE PAST AND FUTURE IN A SHORT STORY ABOUT THE NEANDERTHALS
My story, The Superior Species, was inspired by the discovery of the ‘Ice Man’ in September 1991 in the Otztal Alps at the Austria – Italy boarder. The ‘Ice Man’ was estimated to have lived between 3350 and 3105 BC.
In the past I have referred to a short story published on my blog, The Superior Species, as a story in which I predicted the past.
In the next few posts, I will share that story with you.
Here are some of the amazing finds about the Neanderthals which have changed the way their past has been considered and is reflected in my fictional Neanderthals.
I had mentioned that the Neanderthals are now known to have made jewelry, buried their dead and may have been able to speak. I recently finished reading a fantastic book, Embers of the Hands by Eleanor Barraclough, discussing the life of the Vikings. In describing different aspects of their life, she delves into the musical instruments they used. One of the instruments she dealt with is the flute. During that discussion she mentioned the oldest flute discovered, made of bone, to be perhaps 50,000 years old. She contributes its manufacture to perhaps the Neanderthals. This would indicate that they had knowledge and appreciation of music. Add more evidence of my predicting the intelligence of the Neanderthals.
I hope you enjoy the upcoming story.
THE SHAPE OF MOVIE ALIENS REVEALED
THE SHAPE OF MOVIE ALIENS REVEALED
In a post on January 12, I dealt with the shape of aliens and how I have heard complaints that they usually, in some way, resemble us. The Blob, Nope and Solaris were movies where the aliens definitely did not look like us.
SPOILER ALERT. If you have not seen these movies and want to save the identity of aliens until after you see the movies. STOP READING NOW.
In The Blob it is hard for me to believe that it is an intelligent life form capable of supporting a society. I think of the blob as a being which an advanced society sent to see what is ‘out there’ and has some means of reporting back. Really, it is nothing more than an eating machine. I also, in past posts, mention that I wrote a novella, Elmo’s Sojourn, where a retired scientist transported an alien species through wormholes into his cellar and decides to return to its home planet only to discover that it is actually someone’s pet. I get the same sort of distraction with The Blob.
Now to Nope and Solaris which, I feel, demonstrates fantastic departure from the usual alien shape
In Nope an alien ship hovers in Earth’s skies. There is one point in the movie when there is a rapid extension from the craft in the sky. I thought that this was the alien showing itself.
However, the alien is, in fact, the entire spacecraft. I think this is a fantastic piece of science fiction imagination. This started me trying to picture its society and how it multiplies. Probably as an ameba does. It reaches a point where it splits.
Years ago, I belonged to a very small science fiction writers’ group. In the group was a woman who wrote a story which had an interesting twist. She had a spacecraft which could transport passengers and the entire spacecraft was an alien. Her imagination was ahead of its time.
Now to Solaris where the alien is the ocean covering the planet. The ocean can produce solid objects. It also controls the thought of the human inhabitants in the spacecraft orbiting the planet. To show the extent of the mind control the ocean has over humans, one of them is visited by his wife who has been dead for ten years.
At the end of the movie the man visited by his dead wife returns to Earth or thinks he has returned to Earth. The movie shows he is in the same setting where he was before he left. The scene pulls back and you see an island in the ocean. That is where he actually is. One thing you notice when he is back on ‘Earth’ is that the ocean made a mistake. It is raining inside of the house.
So much for aliens who usually resemble us.
SHOULD ALIENS WEAR CLOTHES?
Another alien-inspired post the subject of which I’m fairly sure that is alien to most.
SHOULD ALIENS WEAR CLOTHES?
For those not addicted to science fiction movies the only movies of this genre may be Star Trek and Star Wars. In these two movies, to the best of my knowledge, all the aliens wear clothes.
But let’s now take a look at other science fiction movies and alien attire. I recently rewatched Independence Day and paid attention to the aliens in this movie. Naked. I recall one of my favorite movies, War of the Worlds, the Gene Barry version from the 1950’s. In the brief view of the aliens, they were naked.
I think there are at least two issues demonstrating the importance on wearing clothes. In defining the position in society and in the military. What triggered the thoughts for this post were whether a society can function when everyone is naked? To me, clothes help define the person. Their position in society, at least the societies on Earth. Think about some of the terms used in our society. Blue-collar workers and white-collar workers definitely indicate the status of the individual.
When you’re walking down the street and you see one individual in overalls and another in a fur coat you know immediately that their rank in society is not the same.
And talking about rank, lets consider the military. Could an army function with no indication of rank? And army where there is no distinction between individuals. No display of rank to indicate who commands respect and obedience, and whose orders should be followed. And who should follow the orders. I cannot picture a naked army functioning. And yet in science fiction movies where there is an invading army it stands to reason that that force is an army, always a naked army.
Returning to my favorite science fiction movie, War of the Worlds, there are a multitude of versions. I have not seen all the versions, but in the ones I have seen the aliens are naked. How does such an army recognize who is who?
In the book War of the Worlds it is described, in a manner, how this problem is overcome. In the book the cylinders land on Earth and it is quite a while before the machines make their appearance. That is because the machines must be first assembled. They do not come to Earth ready to go. And to do the construction there is a sub-species to do the work. They don’t use robotic workers. The sub-species is an intelligent life form but below the class of the invading army. Wells negates the need for uniforms in this respect by creating different levels of intelligence, but I feel the attacking army still needs some distinction between individuals. Now, it is possible even though there are no uniforms to indicate rank there could be another means of making the distinction between individuals. Perhaps it is smell or another sense which exists for the Martians which does not exist on Earth. Or perhaps it is communication through thought.
Am I the only one with these concerns about alien society, probably, but now your mind is scared by these thoughts. So the next time you are watching a science fiction movie if the action takes place on a distant planet, watch for alien attire. Or if the movie involves an alien invasion look for uniforms or some indication of how to define who is who.
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