13 March 2009

"Martian Standard Time"

MARTIAN STANDARD TIME
By Curtis C. Chen

Sean O'Reilly was the first human on Mars. He got to enjoy it for about three seconds.

"Well, here I am." Those were his last words, transmitted by radio to the whole world.

The three of us still inside the lander saw him stumble. We didn't know what was happening until he fell down, and his feet kicked up some dust. Then we saw the laser beams crisscrossing his body.

I wish I could have thought of something better to say than "Houston, we have a problem."

The sandstorm hit two minutes later, while Brian and I were wrapping Karen's pressure suit in reflective foil to protect her from the lasers. The storm lasted over forty hours. After it passed, Sean's body was nowhere in sight.

Once Mission Control gave us the all clear, Karen ventured outside in her silvered suit. She found three dead laser mounts bolted to nearby rocks. Two had been smashed open by storm debris, and the third had lost its power supply. She brought everything inside for a closer inspection.

"These are our lasers," Brian said. "The same kind we're carrying. This is exactly like our equipment."

"That's impossible," I said. "Our hardware is custom-made for each mission. Nobody else has this equipment."

Karen went into the cargo bay and brought back a large metal case. Inside were four cutting lasers identical to the three she'd recovered from outside. She picked up the least damaged Martian laser and compared it to each of the four in the case.

"What are you looking for?" Brian asked.

"Something else that's impossible," she said. "Serial numbers."

She put both lasers down and turned them for us to see. They had the same sixteen-digit serial numbers etched into their casings.

"This has to be a mistake," Brian said.

"We don't need to figure this out," I said. "We take pictures, send all the data back to Houston, and they can puzzle it out. We still have a mission to complete."

Brian squinted at the damaged laser. "There's something else etched on here. Looks like letters... 'seanor.'"

"What?" I said.

"That was Sean's username," Karen said.

"Below that there's a row of gibberish. And then a row of numbers." Brian frowned. "These are coordinates. Martian latitude and longitude."

"Let me see that." I examined the gibberish. It looked like a random sequence of letters, numbers, and punctuation.

"Son of a bitch," I said. "Sean could memorize anything. He always used randomly generated passwords. Said they were harder to guess, more secure."

I turned to a computer console, brought up a terminal window, and entered Sean's username, followed by the gibberish characters.

The computer logged me in and showed me Sean's private files.

"Son of a bitch," Karen said.

I held up the casing and pointed at the numbers. "What's at these coordinates?"

Brian switched the tabletop display to a map of Mars. "Unnamed crater, Arcadia Planitia. It's not on our list of sites to explore."

"It is now," I said. "Let's suit up and get out there."

EOF

Audio: "Martian Standard Time"



http://512words.blogspot.com

Music: Guitar 1 Stem from "The Future Soon" by Jonathan Coulton, licensed under Creative Commons.

Why do I have so much trouble doing female voices? I don't know. I'm working on it.

I played with some post-production audio effects in this week's mix: there's a bit of reverb on the intro/outro music, and I used an "old time radio" filter for the historic dialogue at the beginning of the story (which Firefly fans might recognize as the last words spoken in the last episode of the show).

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You Can't Copyright a Title

As Cory Doctorow and the adult film industry both know. Q.E.D. (Here's a detailed explanation from Google Answers.)

The point being, I could have titled this week's story "Martian Time-Slip," but I don't feel that my work has the same mojo as the Philip K. Dick novel, so I decided it would be better to avoid comparisons and/or confusion.

Except I've just told you all about it, so I guess it's really pointless now.

I suspect that every science fiction writer has, at some point in his or her life, written a story about Mars. Some of those stories involve blimps. Some have even been turned into epic trilogies.

EOF

06 March 2009

"Getaway"

GETAWAY
By Curtis C. Chen

Jake sat across the table from the man he'd been investigating for six months. Harlan Anderson's face stared back, but the eyes were wrong. Jake could always tell by looking at the eyes. Of course, the DA wasn't going to take Jake's word for it. So they waited.

The door to the interview room opened, and Andy walked in. He dropped a file folder on the table. Jake opened the folder and flipped through the lab printouts.

"Scarring at the base of the skull consistent with interface penetration," Jake read. "Tox screen detected phenol compounds indicating breakdown of Ferris drug within the last six hours. EEG shows increased activity in PPRF region. Hey Andy, do you know what the PPRF region controls?"

Andy crumpled up a twenty-dollar bill and threw it at Jake.

"That's right," Jake said, pocketing the cash. "Eye movement. How 'bout that? You learn something new every day."

Harlan's arms yanked on the handcuffs attached to the table. "Can you please take these off now?"

Andy said, "Lieutenant wants us to take her with us. And a tech with a portable interface."

"You're kidding," Jake said.

Andy shrugged. "The brass want a photo-op when we bring him in."

The technician, Karl, met them in the motor pool. Jake drove, Andy rode shotgun, and Karl kept looking over at Harlan's body.

"I'm not him," Harlan's voice said.

"I know," Karl said. "It's just weird, seeing his body."

"Speaking of which, how do you guys deal with this stuff dangling between your legs all the time?"

"You'll get used to it," Andy said.

"Oh, I hope not."

The woman's name was Jennifer Nathans, and she lived at 5028 Montana Street, Apartment 7, on the ground floor. Jake could tell as soon as he pulled into her parking space that they were too late.

The front door stood slightly ajar. Andy and Karl stayed in the car while Jake followed Harlan's body through the ransacked apartment and into the kitchen. Shards of glass covered the floor.

"How much cash was in there?" Jake asked.

"Almost five thousand." Harlan's face looked close to tears.

"Anything else missing?"

Harlan's head shook from side to side. "Shouldn't be hard to find him, right? You've put out an APB for my car. And I don't have a passport."

"He's probably ditched your car by now," Jake said, holstering his weapon. "Maybe shaved off your hair and got a wig."

"My hair?" Harlan's voice sounded horrified.

"It's not his body," Jake said. "He doesn't care what happens to it. But cheer up. If he's smart, he's already swapped it for another one. Someone we're not looking for."

Harlan's face didn't look cheered. "This is the worst day of my life."

"No," Jake said, "that's tomorrow, when you find out the Ferris transfer is permanent after twenty-four hours."

"Please tell me you're joking!"

Jake waited until he couldn't suppress his grin any more. "Yeah, I am."

Harlan's palm smacked him across the face.

"See?" Jake said. "You're feeling better already."

EOF

Audio: "Getaway"



http://512words.blogspot.com

Music: Bass Stem from "Creepy Doll" by Jonathan Coulton, licensed under Creative Commons.

If you know the song "Creepy Doll," you'll understand why I chose it to accompany this particular story.

You, too, can use JoCo's music in your own project. You can even download it via BitTorrent! He releases all his stuff under a Creative Commons license, which allows anyone to copy, distribute, transmit, or adapt the work--as long as you provide proper attribution, and you don't use it for commercial purposes. This podcast may not be quite what he had in mind, but perhaps he will be amused regardless.

EOF

This is Not "The X-Files"

But I suppose you could call this week's story a crossover between "October Surprise" and "The Forty." Actually, I wouldn't say Jake and Andy are the same characters that appear in "The Forty," but they're the same types. And it saved me having to think up more names for people.

My original notes on the premise went like this:
What if it's like a roofie? Anyone can use it, and it's easy to get? No expertise required. How would law enforcement deal with THAT? You could still track down the bad guy--each victim would still know who he/she was (unless dead). Yeah, you'd just kill 'em. But they need to be awake DURING the transfer. What if the victim escapes?

For more on the subject, see the Wikipedia entry for "body swap."

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03 March 2009

BRAAAINNNS

Via jra and Boing Boing: A new web site called Brain Harvest, which bills itself as "An Almanac of Bad Ass Speculative Fiction." It's run by several graduates of Clarion West 2008 and, according to editor Eden Robins, "will feature the best snappy, bad-ass speculative fiction pieces we can find in 750 words or less." (I must point out that she should have said fewer, not less. But as far as limits go, 750 is just as good as 512.)

~CKL

27 February 2009

"The More Things Change"

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE
By Curtis C. Chen

Amanda sat down on the park bench, crossed her legs, and resisted the urge to scratch. She still couldn't get used to the nylon stockings. Did women in 1955 really wear these things all day?

She opened the paper bag next to her, enjoying the crinkling sounds it made. The sandwich inside was not so pleasant. She reminded herself that this was all for science, and washed down the sliced animal flesh with a mouthful of sickly sweet brown liquid. She couldn't decide whether the drink was worse than the food.

After she had choked down her lunch, Amanda inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of green grass, then opened her purse. She had taken a maximum dose of anti-nausea meds earlier, and she was determined to get through this.

She managed three drags on the cigarette before she started coughing and retching. Her entire body seemed to know what awful chemicals she was forcing into it, and did its best to expel every molecule of tobacco.

The park around her shimmered and faded, and Amanda found herself sitting inside a featureless gray dome. A wedge-shaped opening appeared, and Supervisor Hadley walked into the hologram chamber.

"You're done," he said.

Amanda put out the cigarette and stood up. "Give me one more chance."

Hadley shook his head. "You've used all your allotted screenings."

"But I need this research for my thesis."

Hadley shrugged. "Try again next semester."

Amanda's fingernails dug into her palms. "My family can't afford another semester."

"Not my problem, missy," Hadley said, tapping at his datapad.

Amanda willed her hands to stop shaking. She thought of all the study and preparation she'd done. She couldn't let it go to waste.

Hadley was ignoring her completely now, continuing his hardware inspection as if Amanda wasn't even there. She knew she shouldn't have let it get to her, but she couldn't believe that she was powerless in this situation, in the present day.

Then she realized she wasn't.

"Please, Supervisor," Amanda said. "I almost passed, didn't I?"

"Close, but no cigar." Hadley sounded bored.

"Couldn't you just round up a little?"

Hadley turned to say something, but stopped when he saw where Amanda's hand was. She had opened her blouse and was running a finger along the support garment strapped to her chest.

"Well," he said, "maybe I have missed something in my evaluation."

"What can I do to convince you?"

Hadley licked his lips, and Amanda's stomach turned. "Why don't you start by getting naked."

That was all she needed. She slapped him hard across the face and closed up her shirt before running out of the chamber. She ran all the way to the administration building.

The footage Amanda had recorded on her eye-camera would only show Hadley leering at her. He would say she had goaded him into it, but it would be his word against hers, and the university was far more likely to settle than risk a lawsuit--especially since all Amanda wanted was one transit. She just needed the answer to one question.

EOF