Krishna kumar

SFS1

Science Fiction Short Stories

This book is dedicated to all science fiction readers.

1 Rejected Patent

I sat in the courtroom waiting for a judgment regarding a patent of mine.

FLASHBACK

I’m Bill Ambrosone. And I’m a scientist who specializes in DNA. But more than that, I’m a businessman. I own five different labs and our primary service is analyzing DNA samples for clients. The cost for our services is lower than you’d think. We identify hereditary disease markers for the most part, but it’s not unheard of to get a request for a paternity test. For the past three years I’ve been working on a project and once I have the patent for it, our business will take off like never before. You might ask what the advancement is, and I’ll tell you. Just bear with me. I’ve got to get this patent. If I go to the market with my product without a patent, the next guy will come in and swoop it out from under my feet.

I waited for the mail that day for what seemed like forever. When the mail carrier arrived, I hurried down the steps and out to the mail box. I sorted through the mail until I found an envelope that was stamped with “USPTO,” the acronym for the patent office. I ripped open the letter and poured through the contents. “We’re sorry to inform you that your request for a patent has been rejected.” Needless to say, I was upset. Since I applied for the patent, it’s now public knowledge. Even though I hadn’t been able to get a patent, I also didn’t need to have given out my trade secrets to every upstart who wanted to run a DNA lab. And what’s to say the next guy who tried to apply for a patent with a slightly modified version of my work wouldn’t get one and put me out of business altogether?

I sat on my terrace and mulled over the situation. My phone rang. It was an old friend from school, a guy we used to kid that he’d had mud in his head instead of a brain. He ended up dropping out of college and worked in real estate now. After catching up for a little bit he invited me to a party. I agreed, needing a change of scenery and also just wanted to get my mind off the patent situation.

I arrived at dinner to have him greet me. No one else was there yet, maybe they were late? “Hi, I thought more people coming?” I asked. “Nope, this is just for you,” he replied. “Wait, why?” I asked, confused.

“Just hold on, Bill. It’ll be clear in a second. It’s not some weird come on or anything like that. I just wanted to introduce you to my friend.” A 40 year old man entered the foyer from the kitchen sporting a Rolex and a two button Armani suit in pristine, pressed condition. “Mr. Ambrosone, I presume? I’m the president of development for Arlon Inc.. We do a bit of everything, but mostly we develop software programs, specifically for mobile devices. I’ve heard a lot about you and I asked our mutual friend here if he could set up a meeting regarding a business deal.”

”I am a DNA scientist and you work in computers. What is it that you think we can do together, exactly?”

”I know that your patent got rejected today. I’ve read all the details of your concept. They’re really interesting, I had to admit.”

”You’ve read my research?” I was shocked that word had traveled this quickly. Who was this man?

“Yes, I know and now it is ready for business,” he said with a smile “Would you like me to explain my understanding of your research? I’d like to see if I’ve got it correct.”

“Yes, by all means.”

“The gist of the process is that your research allows you to take a DNA sample and extract data from a previous life. You can find their date of birth, and basically their entire life history from birth to death. Hell, you say you can find out what they were named based off DNA. That alone might be worth millions if it works. I’ve got the basics down, yes?”

I was still in shock about the speed that he’d read it at. The research itself was somewhat technical, but most people would understand the basics of it. Perhaps he had a scientist read it for him.

“So how do you plan to capitalize on this research, Mr. Ambrosone?”

I stood there in silence and thought to myself. I had some vague notions but I didn’t want to get my hopes up before I had a patent. After a little while he spoke again.

“Bill, is it alright if I call you Bill? I really want to help you make money with your idea. Not since Watson and Crick first took credit for discovering DNA has there been such an advancement in the field of biology.”

I was happy with his compliment, I start explained:

“I will offer a service in the five DNA labs that I own.,” I said, beaming since he had complimented me. “Those that are interested in knowing their previous lives can submit DNA samples and get reports about their previous lives. It won’t be too expensive, but if I’m the only one who can do it, I’ll have all the business.”

He laughed for a while. I felt my face getting flushed with anger.

After a while he noticed my bright red face and stifled his laughter. “Sorry… very sorry…” he said after he had taken a sip of water. “Let’s talk for real here, Bill. You’re an excellent scientist, I’ll give you that. But as a businessman, I’m not convinced. Sure, you have your five labs, but this idea is so much bigger than that. I want to maximize your earnings. How much did you say you expected to make off this idea again?”

I told him again how much I had expected to make. He either coughed or stifled back a laugh again and continued. “If you agree to my plan, in the first month the revenue will be ten thousand times higher than your annual revenue from your five labs. And that’s the first month. With your plan, you’d be lucky if a rival competitor across town didn’t offer the service for cheaper after two weeks.”

“My patent was rejected though. I don’t understand.”

“Who want patents? Patents are a joke. No one even respects them any more. Nowadays the patent office is so backed up you have to wait years to get a patent. In the mean time, someone else has done the same thing, taken it to market and you won’t be able to get a patent anyways. That’s how business works now” “Alright. So tell me. How do you plan to increase the revenue? What would you do, open more labs? Sell the service to other DNA labs?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you, but before I do you have to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

He shocked me by pulling out a legal document right there and then. I had no idea about this meeting and he must have been planning it for weeks. How had he even gotten wind of my patent?

“Listen, I’ll take care of everything. Every month your share will be deposited into a bank account that you specify. You retain the rights to the technology and you can count that as your investment. Like I said, I’m the investor. There’s no risk here to you. We’d split it seventy-thirty. I get seventy percent and you get thirty. Believe me, the difference between seventy percent and thirty at the numbers I’m talking won’t even matter to you once you see the paycheck.”

I was listening intently, still a bit rattled by the whole situation. He simply smiled and continued his monologue. “Bill, this isn’t a one time sale. In this contract, there’s a three million dollar advance. I expect that we’ll make that and more within the first couple of months. The check’s already made out to you. All you have to do is sign the contract.” “You know, I’d like to have a lawyer read over this to make sure everything is on the up and up,” I said. “Let me call the one I have on retainer for my labs. I don’t care if he’s in the middle of dinner or lounging in the hot tub, he’ll get here within twenty minutes. It won’t be long.”

After the lawyer checked the document over, I signed and was now a multi-millionaire. “Great, Bill. That’s great. Alright, so tomorrow we’ll get to work.”

“I’m still not clear, how exactly do you plan on making so much money with my idea?” “We’re going to take your idea mobile.” “What does that mean?”

“We can turn DNA samples into digital files. I think you know that. What I’m going to do is to make a website and a mobile application so that users can upload their DNA samples and we’ll tell them information about their previous lives. We’ll give out some free information as a teaser, but they’ll have to pay to get the full report. It’ll be fully automated. We’ll have maybe a few technical support guys but it will all be taken care of through the program. Billions of users with cell phones are going to want to do this, Bill.

I thought he was done but had one last thing to tell me. “Tomorrow you’ll begin your work with our computer engineers to help develop the application. All you have to do is answer questions about your research. Leave the computer stuff up to them and the business side of things to me.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

I worked with them as best I could to make the application ready for launch. It creates reports in almost no time at all. They tried to explain the server, mobile apps, something called ‘the cloud,’ SSL, xcode and things I’ve since forgotten. We launched and it took off like wildfire. Most people had heard of us within the first few weeks of launch.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Now the application is one of the the top applications in both iOS and Android. It even competes with Temple Run and Angry birds. I thought this joint venture was the best decision I’d ever made in my life. I had several million dollars in my bank account and my name was so popular that press people followed me around to various locations.

”Your idea seems really great,” started a reporter in his early twenties, “but how do you know that the previous life information is correct?”

“This is not magic,” I said with a smile. “This is science. reports? How else would we generate our process? Maybe a little wizard in a cloak somewhere knows the science. There’s been answers? No, it’s many independent verifications of data generated by our process. We’ve yet to have a false positive.”

“But what is the use?” asked a female interviewer from the back of the crowd. “What stronger purpose can we have in life than to know ourselves? On the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, inscribed are the words “know thyself.” It is that which I seek to allow humanity to do. Of course each person will find a different use for the application. Just yesterday I read about a man who found out his previous incarnation’s family had fallen into poverty and helped them out. Another man helped pay for the education of his previous life’s son. Now that some research papers have been submitted about my invention, in specific how one’s sins affect their next lives, soon the whole world will understand that and the crime rate will decrease. There’s many more examples on our website. I believe we do good work. I think the government knows that too, that’s why we’ve applied for a tax exemption.

“What about the future? Are you researching anything else? Maybe contact with aliens?””No, no, nothing like that,” I laughed. “My days are too filled with counting my piles of gold! Really though, it’s nice to have a few moments to sit back and relax.”

“You’re obviously a great researcher. Every day the world seems more and more violent. Couldn’t you do some research into DNA so that we could remove or change the violent natures of some people?”

I laughed but understood it is a good idea and told:

“You know, that’s a good idea,” I said with a laugh. “I will think on that. I guess I could become a masked avenger in the mean time though? Whatever help I can offer to our law enforcement professionals, I’m all for it.” The press took some photos and left. Early next morning, my intercom rang. It was the security guard.

“There are some detectives out here who want to see you. They say it’s urgent.”

“Tell them I was kidding when I said I’d become a masked superhero. I’ll be right down.”

After a few minutes I entered into the hallway. Three police officers were there.

“Please, come in and have a seat. What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Sorry, Mr. Ambrosone. There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”

“A warrant? What warrant? Do you know who I am?

“Yes, we’re well aware of who you are. Just cooperate and this will go easily for both of us.”

“I don’t understand. What is this warrant for?” “In the past five months, the murder rate has increased dramatically. Usually we can say the murders are related to drugs, or gang activity but we’ve had fifteen murders that we just couldn’t figure out a motive for. Two days ago, we arrested a guy that had tried to kill a taxi driver but the taxi driver stopped him luckily. You see, the thing of it is. The kid who tried to kill the taxi driver was a college student from another city. He came all the way out here to kill this taxi driver, a man who was fifty six and claimed he had never seen this college student before in his life. Now why do you think that was, Mr. Ambrosone?”

“What? Well what does this have to do with me?”

“That college student. Well, he found some information on from your App. It seems that the taxi driver had killed him in his last life. An accident, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. So the college student had tracked him down and tried to get revenge.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have.”

“Anyways, we started looking into the other cases we couldn’t solve. Guess what? Each and every time it was related to that little App of yours. They find out that some guy has killed them or is somehow responsible in some way for their previous death and they go to seek revenge. It’s happening in other cities. It’s all over the world, Bill. You’re the reason these crimes are being committed.”

I had never expected this. I remained silent and went with them.

THE PRESENT

The court case has drug on for a long time now. And as it progressed, I understood more and more why my patent was rejected. It wasn’t that the technology wasn’t good enough. It was that a patent examiner had hoped I’d be discouraged and never show the work to anyone ever again. The killings didn’t stop after the court case began. If anything, they got worse now that it was public knowledge you could use the application in such a way. Most of the world was against me and wanted to see my product erased from the earth in every way possible.

“Listen. Every invention can have a good and a bad impact. While a gun can be used to kill, it can also be used to protect yourself. The same thing with plutonium. It can either make a nuclear bomb or it can provide heating and electricity to a whole city. We don’t simply ban the invention because it has a bad use. And we certainly don’t punish the creators,” I protested.

The court agreed with me… about guns and nuclear power. Unfortunately they saw not benefit to my technology at all. They decided that it would be banned from that day forward. They ordered the website to be taken offline and to delete all user data. They even penalized me from profiting off of the project and fined me for most of what I had made. The company who I partnered with got off without a fine. They merely said “we just developed it and marketed it. All the rights have always rested with Bill Ambrosone.”

As I left court after the verdict had been read, a familiar reporter pressed forward through the crowd.

“So what will your next invention be, Bill?” Oh God, please don’t give me any new ideas.

2 Robography

Year: 2507

My name is Joe and I work for a ship building company. Currently we’re building one of the largest classes of ships that we’ve ever built. Along with me, there’s more than a thousand other people working in this isolated environment. They are all controlled by robots. Humans aren’t allowed to do anything without the permission of robots.

While we were walking to our work area, my co-worker James asked:

“Hi Joe, how are you?”

“Fine.”

“Have you seen Bob? I haven’t seen him lately,” said James

“I’ve got some sad news about that. Bob is no longer with us.”

He stopped walking, surprised and asked”What happened to him? Was there an accident?”

I replied by gesturing to enter the rest room. We went to the next restroom and turned the water on full speed and started to talk. This is the way we bypass the security cameras and microphones when we want to convey secrets to each other.

“The robots found out he was breaking the rules. They closed his story, James. You know that seventy percent of the workforce here are robots. Bob made a mistake and tried to talk to someone he wasn’t absolutely certain of. We need to be very careful.”

“Did they kill him?” James asked, clearly shocked.

”I think so. Bob is not the first person we’ve lost you know? These heartless robots would even kill us now. We’ve exceeded more than the 2.3 minutes allowed for urinal”

James looked incredibly sad while he walked to his work area. But these things are regular to me. As James and I know we’ve lost eleven of our co-workers, but I know we’ve lost many more than that. The robots need humans to do work that only they can do. Other than that, robots don’t require humans. They’d likely kill us all if they had no purpose for us. They don’t allow us to talk to one another in private place. It’s even against the rules to leave your room or visit another co-worker. All they want is for humans to work.

It’s impossible to identify who is a human and who is a robot. There are no differences in speech, attitude or behavior between them. The robots are nearly beings. Even our differences are minor. Humans drink energy drinks while robots change charger cells. And

perfect copies of human skin looks the same. The while robots don’t need to take breaks like humans do, they’re programmed to take breaks anyways to trick humans. No one knows who is a robot and who is a human. And everyone is afraid. They’re afraid to share their thoughts or to even check if someone else is a human. If they guess wrong, they’ll be gone, like Bob. I met James again at break time. He looked better, a little less sad. We’ve developed a system for communicating in public in secret. We use phrases with double meanings that are vague and can’t be easily deciphered. I pointed out a person and leaned over towards James.

”He looks like Bob, right?”

James thought for a second and replied. “Okay.”

I just conveyed that the person I pointed out was not human. Of course, I couldn’t one hundred percent sure. No one could. We use ‘look like’ to signal that the person is a robot. The names don’t matter, we just say whatever for that. “Bye, take care,” I said to James.

‘Take care’ means be careful of danger. We’re both on alert since Bob’s disappearance. We don’t say anything else, just go to our separate work areas.

At 8:00 PM the work day ended. I searched for James, but I didn’t find him. He might have went directly to his room.

Dane and David came up and greeted me in the hallway.

“How are you, Joe?” asked David.

They called me to rest room by action and we went in like James and I had in the morning. “I identified a person as robot,” said Dane. “Who?” I asked.

“The guy wears the yellow colored pants. His name is Wes. Be careful of him.”

“I’ve got news for you. Bob is no longer with us. The robots killed him.”

They were speechless for a while.

“Really?”

“Yes, please be careful”

“He was a close friend of James’ right?” asked David. “I suspect James may be robot, you also should be careful.”

I was surprised. James was a robot? How could that be possible? “What do you mean? James?” Both Dane and I were surprised and just started at David. We heard someone coming into the restroom so we went we go out one by one without talking at all. We’d have to wait until tomorrow to discuss this news.

I went to my room and locked the door. I sat down in a chair and recalled today’s events. I updated today’s work status to management. Work status was “Today 1077 humans worked, 4 were sick. 25 robots worked, including this one.”

I changed my charge calls out.

“Yes, I am one of the 25 robots. To make all the humans as foolish as possible, we’ve become friends with many of the humans. We point out other real humans as robots. They suspect that other humans are robots and don’t talk to them. That prevents them from planning against us or coordinating an uprising. They even think that most of the actual robots are actually humans conspiring with them. Humans are constantly creating rumors about who might be a robot. But they’re nearly always wrong. Goodbye. Now I am going to enter stand-by mode. This is part of my biography, sorry robography.”

“One last thing: we don’t kill humans since they are excellent workers. We simply transfer them to a different work location and inform others that they are destroyed. After a strong warning we transfer them to a new work place. The transferred people never meet again, until now we haven’t offered a second transfer to anyone.”

3 Useless Medicine

He has nobody that cares about him. But then again, he doesn’t particularly care for anyone else either. His experiments are his life. We care about him because of this story. His name is John, and he works for a small university as a science professor. His leisure time is spent in his lab performing unknown experiments. Even the dean is unaware of his actual research.

Even though the university was out of session for the holidays, Dean Robertson had responsibilities to attend to. He’d come to the grounds to check on the progress of a new auditorium that was being constructed. Construction wasn’t exactly his field, but they’d promised him that they’d use it as a large science lecture hall. As he passed by John’s lab he noticed that he was inside, working on something. John was always on something. Today the dean decided he’d investigate.

After knocking, the dean proceeded in to the lab where John was holding a rabbit in one hand and a dropper filled with red liquid in the other, feeding it to the rabbit. Although the dean had knocked, Professor John hadn’t acknowledged the Dean’s presence.

“Hello, professor.”

Professor John turned around and noticed the dean was behind him. He was surprised for a moment and said, “Welcome Dean Robertson.”

“How are you?”

“I am fine. What can I do for you?”

“What are you doing with this rabbit? Are you busy with something?”

“Just doing some research is all.”

“That’s what I’m here to ask you about. We haven’t really gotten to know one another. I’m sorry for that. I’ve just been really busy lately.” “I suppose we both have been pretty busy!” “What is this?” asked the dean as he pointed to the red liquid in the dropper.

The professor was speechless for a moment. He hadn’t planned on having a show and tell with the dean today.

“I asked, what are you doing? You’re always in here working on some kind of experiment. What’s the nature of your research?”

“Alright, I’ll explain. But not in here. Let’s move over to the visitor’s room and I’ll tell you all about my experiments.”

“Please sit down, Dean.”

Both sit on opposite sides of the table, facing each other. Professor John smiled and said: “I am trying to invent a miracle medicine,” John began. “It is almost ready. I’m in the process of finalizing the results before I reveal it to the world.”

“Oh, I see. Okay, mind telling me what it is before your big disclosure? After all, I’d look pretty foolish if you were to release a scientific advancement that I had no Does your miracle medicine prevent cancer?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s related to memories.”

“Does it improve memory power?” asked the dean. “But there are lots of tablets in the market, what would your invention do any differently?”

“My medicine is entirely different. It doesn’t boost memory power. It erases recent memories.”

“Who will buy a drug that erases memories?” the dean asked with a laugh. “What a useless medicine! I can’t believe you’ve been wasting all your time and the university’s resources on this.”

The professor hadn’t expected these comments from the dean. All his life he’d worked hard and no one had recognized it. While others were home, he was researching. It was just like the dean to not see the applications for such a drug. In his life nobody ever rewarded him also nobody was as smart or as hard working as he was.

“No, this is not an over the counter medicine,” knowledge of. cure AIDS or John said, biting back his anger. “It would be prescribed only by physician…”

“Are doctors mad enough to prescribe this medicine to make the patients forget their own memories? Then who will pay the fee?” The dean burst into a fit of laughter.

“No,” yelled John, losing his temper.

He walked over to a shelf and took down an old newspaper and few other papers to show to the dean. The dean stopped laughing and looked at the papers John had brought him. “Every 40 seconds a person commits suicide. Every year more than one million people commit suicide. This death rate is higher than deaths from AIDS. And the suicide attempt rate is far greater. It’s 8 to 25 times higher than than these statistics.”

One of the paper showed ‘In the last 45 years suicide rates have increased by 60% worldwide, these statistics are based on 2012 WHO report’

“How are these statistics related to your research?” the dean asked seriously.

“My medicine will save a lot of people who would otherwise commit suicide. A large number of people who are depressed or have suicidal tendencies have traumatic memories that prevent them from living their lives. This medicine will help them to forget that trauma and allow them to proceed with their lives. At the present, my medicine can erase up to the last 48 hours of memories.”

“Perhaps I was quick to judge your research without considering its applications. This is actually very excellent, professor! You’ve performed an invaluable service to mankind with this.”

“Thank you.”

“When you will complete this?” asked the dean after being silent for a moment.

“Based on the amount of drug consumed, it has the potential to erase up to the last 48 hours of memories. Currently I’m in the process of extending the duration to the last six months.”

“So you’ve tested this medicine?”

“Yes. I’ve tested it on rabbits and also have run some trials on myself. No side effects so far.” The dean’s money mind woke up immediately. “It is a great product. We have to get a patent before going to market.”

The professor understood completely what was happening. The dean was trying to associate himself with him to this research but John was not in a position to deny him. “I will take care of everything,” the dean said with a smile. “I need the materials and information you have so we can get a patent on it. We’ll share the profit of 50:50. What do you think?”

“It’s my pleasure. You know as well as I do that I’m not a businessman. You can take it forward, but before that, let me show you how it works.”

“I think I’ve got it figured out. That red liquid is your medicine. You feed it to the rabbit and it forgets its recent memories.”

“What you have said is exactly correct, dean” “But how do you test with the rabbits and identify if it is working or not?”

“That’s very simple. Wait a minute and I will demonstrate with a rabbit.”

“Let us have a coffee before this demo”, the dean bought two coffees from the coffee vending machine and mixed the red liquid medicine into the John’s coffee while John was fetching the rabbit for testing.

The dean insisted that the professor to take coffee. John added some more sugar cubes and drank a big gulp.

After a moment the professor placed the rabbit and the medicine onto the table He put the medicine onto a carrot and gave it to the rabbit. The rabbit started to eat the carrot hungrily. John asked the dean to keep silent and requested him to watch the rabbit and the dean complied, not even blinking once.

Suddenly the professor injected the dean with a syringe.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Just demonstrating to you that my medicine can also be injected.”

“I mixed the medicine in your coffee. We’ll both forget everything.” The dean laughed. John smiled and said “Dean, as I already said, I’ve tasted the medicine many times. After the first sip, I knew what you had done. What I mixed into the coffee wasn’t sugar cubes, they were anti-medicine. Sorry to say!”

The dean looked shocked and stared at the professor. John merely smiled and said, “You did ask to share in the research, right? Take this chair.”

The dean sat and fell asleep for a few minutes. John sat, patiently waiting where he had first talked to the dean.

After few minutes, the dean woke up. “What are you doing with this rabbit? Are you busy with something?” asked the dean.

“Dean, I am starting to forget things a little bit as I get older So I practice the lab experiments before I give demonstrations to the students.” The dean gave a small laugh and got up to leave. John gave a small chuckle and bid him farewell.

4 Honey Moon on the Moon

Year: 2257

“Sorry dear I tried all of the hotel booking websites,” said James hopelessly “I just can’t find any rooms on the moon“

“You know, there are public and private shuttle services available, dear,” replied Lilly. “There’s no rooms though. I’ve tried tour packages and combo booking deals but there just doesn’t seem to be anything open.” “Well what if we extended our budget to 7-star hotels, darling?”

“I don’t think that will be possible. Seven star hotels are just too much. I’m searching as best I can. I even searched for a guest house we could stay in. No luck there either.”

James was silent for a while before he continued. “I came to the conclusion, there are only two options for us. Either one will be fine with me. The first option is that we plan for Mercury. The shuttle service is a little bit costlier but the hotels are cheaper”

“No, dear. I want to celebrate our honeymoon on the moon,” said Lilly, crossing her hands in protest.

“Well, good thing that the second option is to have our honeymoon on the moon, then.”

“Wow. But how?” asked Lilly excitedly. “We’ll have to postpone our honeymoon for a month or two.”

“In two months that won’t be a honeymoon. It will just be a trip we take as a married couple. Isn’t there some other option?” said Lilly again crossing her hands.

“Please don’t get upset Lilly. I’ve looked for everything available on the moon. There’s just nothing available.”

She started to cry. “Honey, I need my honeymoon to be on the moon.”

James moved over to console her. “Wait. Don’t cry. What was it that you just called me?” After a short silence she replied. “I called you honey.”

“Well, you are my moon and I’m you’re honey. Whether we’re on the earth or on the moon. It will always be our honeymoon.”

She continued to cry. “I have to go to the moon for our honeymoon. Please find a way, James.” James started to wonder why she had so much excitement about going to the moon. What did she expect to be there? She had never traveled to the moon before. He didn’t understand why she was so crazy about going to the moon for their honeymoon.

“Is there a reason why we have to go to the moon? What attracts you to it?”

“It’s the best place to go. Most of my friends went to the moon for their honeymoon.” James had a good idea why she was so set on it now. It was because of her friends. Just a woman’s mentality. But he knew that if he told her this, she would just cry even more. “Maybe you could talk with your friends, see what resort they went to? We could check that hotel out specifically as well.”

Lilly’s face brightened up and went to call her friends. After a few minutes she came back to James.

”They suggested two hotels. One is called the Blue Moon and the other one was Mootel.” “I already checked Blue Moon. There weren’t any rooms available, but I’ll have to check Mootel”

James searched the internet and found reviews on Mootel. Lilly chatted with her friends some more and finally came back to James with a phone number for him to call.

“Hi honey, one of my friends referred me, so hopefully he will be able to help us,” said Lilly. James called him up.

“Since you are a referral customer, I will try my best to find you a room. At this time there aren’t any available, but I will see what I can do.

After dinner they both went outside to watch the moon from the terrace.

”Don’t worry honey. We will be there for our honeymoon. The resort guy will get back to us and get us a room. I know it.”

James mobile rang and he answered.

“This is James speaking.”

“Sir, this is Brown from Mootel resort.” “So what’s the information?“

“Sir there is a canceled room available, but there’s a condition.”

“What does that mean, what is the condition?” “We will plan out your entire vacation. We’ll pick you up form your door and even return you with a private shuttle. The only thing is that you have to travel with another person’s name.”

“I don’t understand. Another person’s name?” “The moon is a very important tourist spot. We book based off of a waiting list and I simply cannot put your name at the top of the list. I can’t issue the room to you before I issue it to each of them. So if you want the room, you’d have to travel with the name of the canceled passengers. It’s another couple so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Is this going to be a problem legally?” “On the moon there’s no need for a passport or a visa since it is part of Earth. It won’t affect their records in any way. You’ll tell the checkin a different name and show only your ticket. There’s no ID check so that will be fine. But…” “What else?”

“You couldn’t leave the resort until you checked out.”

“So we’d have to stay inside the resort at all times? No outings whatsoever? I don’t think that’s going to fly with the wife. Let me check though.”

James went in and talked to Lilly about it. She told him that it was okay and that they didn’t need to go on any outings. She already knew this though because her friend had also taken a similar kind of deal.

“Oh. So you already knew,” said James surprised. “You know that it’s illegal to do this, right?”

“This isn’t a legal issue James. We’re just going to the moon instead of Mars. There’s nothing to worry about.”

James confirmed the tour package and paid the additional ten percent fee for the agent. James had a bad feeling about the situation but didn’t tell Lilly anything. He didn’t want to ruin all of the hard work he’d done trying to find a spot on the moon at the last minute.

John and Julie were the names printed on the tickets. They remembered the names but James and Lilly weren’t too worried. They always referred to each other as dear or honey and very rarely did they call each other by name. After a long trip in a private shuttle they reached the resort. After they landed, a man checked their ticket but didn’t ask them for any ID or anything of that nature.

They enjoyed themselves immensely while they were in the resort.

“Hey sweetie,” said James. “You can see Earth from here. It looks like a moon itself.”

“Oh we are in moon! I’m the happiest I’ve ever been!” shouted Lilly excitedly.

Four days passed as if they were four hours but James felt was something missing.

A private shuttle picked them up and was took them back home.

“Thanks for choosing Mootel resort. We hope you come again and please refer your friends!” said a friendly agent as they disembarked the shuttle.

“Sure thing.”

“This is our small gift from our resort for both of you,” said the agent. He held out a small photo album filled with pictures of James and Lilly. They looked through it excitedly.

“Bye,” said the agent as James and Lilly turned to walk up to their house.

“Catch him!” yelled a man.

They were surprised to see two cops grab the agent who had just bid them farewell. James and Lilly were afraid that the arrest was in regards to forging names so they turned to silent enter their home. A cop called over to James.

“Did you just travel to stay on the moon?”

“Yes we did, but…”

“That wasn’t the moon. This agent and that whole resort are liars. They took you to a resort eighty miles away from here. A normal resort on Earth that they made to look like it was on the moon. You’re one of about five thousand people that they’ve cheated like this.”

Now James and Lilly understood why they had not been allowed to go outside or to arrange their own shuttle ride.

5 Ghost On Call

My name is Joe. I used to work for a bank, but six months ago I lost my job due to the economic crisis. My wife has been working as a teacher so we have been able to manage the bills still thankfully. Also my writing talents have helped me to earn a few bucks on the side. I’d worked for a few unknown magazines as a freelance writer and they paid me nearly $400 for each article I wrote but most of them were monthly so I had to stretch every penny. Mostly the articles were related to news I’d found on the internet. I’d read for hours find current hot topics to create news articles from.

I just completed an article. Please don’t think this news is junk or crap because it’s one hundred percent verified fact. Please find a summary of the article just below.

“A new startup company called Ghost On Call Inc. located in Silicon Valley launched a new service a few months ago. Using this service we can connect and talk to any ghost via phone. It’s become popular in most of the countries around the world though a few have banned this service for religious reasons. During the beginning stages of this service, most people were hesitant and believed it was some kind of a scan. But the company gave free minutes for every mobile phone number and many people simply tried it for the first time because they were bored and it was free. They were amazed to hear the voice of their family members and loved ones that had passed beyond the veil of the grave! Soon after that, the service became incredibly popular in North America and now it has more active users than Twitter! The service was soon extended to all types of users even those that wanted to use computers or even land-line telephones. Soon people were regularly calling and being connected to ghosts within minutes. Last month they increased the cost per minute to two dollars but call volume wasn’t affected. The company’s revenue is individual mobile carrier higher than any network because

their customer base is worldwide.

A few different statistics say that about forty-five percent of the calls are to ghosts that people want to reconnect with for reasons of love and affection. Another forty-five percent of the calls are to get information such as where someone put cash, a certain document, jewelry or even something as simple as an internet password. The last ten percent was simply people passing the time. The CEO of Ghost On Call Inc. has claimed that conversations are secure and are not taped. He also said in an interview that they were about to take the company public and in the next quarter were going to allow ghosts to make outgoing calls to anyone they wanted to. They didn’t implement this before because it was impossible to collect money from ghosts. Now they’re in talks with two different carrier networks in North America to allow ghostcalls to be charged to the receiver so ghosts may very well be calling us soon!”

After seeing my article, the assistant editor of the magazine called me and said that the article was a very good piece of work and that he wanted me to do a full investigative report for a cover story. He told me that I should do three different articles and that the senior editor would choose the article which he liked best. Also he gave me a code for an hour’s worth of time to Ghost On Call. Already my wife has really enjoyed using this service to talk with her mother’s ghost about food recipes, now I will get a chance to do so myself.

I decided that I should talk to my grandma’s ghost since she loved me perhaps the most of all of my relatives. I used to spend the holiday’s in my grandma’s house. She was so affectionate towards me. I knew her birth date but wasn’t sure of her exact date of death so I called their customer support and gave the full name, date of birth and death year. In a few seconds they connected the call. I heard a default ring tone and sat there, thrilled that I would get to talk to my grandma once again.

“Hi my candy boy, how are you?” asked my grandma in a happy voice. Yes, it was my grandma. She was the only one who ever called me candy boy. I was speechless for a moment.

“Grandma, how are you? Is this real?” I asked emotionally.

“It’s real alright. Please don’t cry my boy, I am fine and happy,” she replied.

“Oh grandma it makes me so happy to hear your voice again.”

“Why you didn’t call me before? I’ve been expecting you to call. All my ghost friends get calls from relatives all the time. I’ve been the only person who hasn’t gotten a call lately. We don’t have an outgoing facility here to call you, otherwise I would have contacted you!”

“Sorry, grandma. I thought you didn’t have a phone. After your death my mother took your phone. How did you get a new one? Is that an iPhone or an Android that you’re using?” I inquired.

“My candy boy, we don’t have phones here,” she said with a laugh. “Once you make a call to a ghost, the call is routed to the ghost. When you talk into the phone on your side, we understand it on our side. And what we think here, you hear that there. Put simply, your speech is transmitted to thought and my thoughts are transmitted to an audible voice.”

I was impressed with my grandma’s simple explanation about how the ghosts and the living communicated with each other. But then again, she had been a professor when she was alive so it shouldn’t have really been that impressive.

“I saw Steve Jobs” grandma said excitedly. “But even he doesn’t have an iPhone!”

“Who else have you seen up there grandma? Got any other interesting news for me?”

We talked about our family members for a little while before my call was suddenly disconnected. I looked at the mobile display. It said “call disconnected” but the signal was full. I checked the balance to see if that was the problem. It wasn’t but I had already used up almost half of my allotted time! I didn’t quite have enough for my article so I decided that I should call some famous people. The first person I tried was Adolf Hitler. After a Google search I put in his date of birth, his name and his date of death to see if it would connect me. An error message flashed upon my screen and said “Person is unavailable, has been reincarnated.”

After that I tried to call Abraham Lincoln. The phone rang for what seemed like forever, but no one answered. I tried Steve Jobs. Same thing. Then I tried Princess Diana and a few other celebrities, but just more ringing.

I guess it made sense. Normal people couldn’t reach VIPs even after they were dead. I thought of calling Osama Bin Laden but I’m pretty sure the FBI would have me on a watchlist faster than a sand storm. I noticed my balance had been reduced even though no one had answered the call. I called customer service to complain.

“No one has picked up my call but still you’ve charged me for time spent. What gives?”

“We can’t force ghosts to talk with you. If they know you and want to talk with you, then they’ll answer your calls. Per our policy we collect a connectivity charge of $1 per call, even if the call is not answered.”

“Really?”

“Yes, please check our terms. For the best response, you should call ghosts you know like relatives or friends. Celebrities and people you don’t know answer stranger’s calls only very rarely.”

Now I understood the proverb, ‘the devil you know is better than the angel you don’t know.’ So I decided to call some devil I did know. Suddenly my wife came to mind. I decided to try to use the service to call someone that was still alive. I mean, investigating the service was my goal for the article and that would be part of it. So I gave my wife’s date of birth and her full name. It showed me a list of people that I could choose from and I chose her name. It rang.

“Hello?” asked my wife, her voice a little unclear.

“Hi Lilly, Are you in hell?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

“Hey Joe. Yes, I’m in the hallway. Why are you calling me from such a strange number? You’re just in the bedroom, right? What are you calling me for?”

She hung up the phone and walked into the bedroom. After seeing her I understood what had happened. They simply had routed the call to my wife’s mobile number. I hadn’t been in her brain at all. I checked the balance which was getting lower by the minute. I decided it was best to talk to some other ghosts.

After thinking long and hard about who I could call, I decided to call my old friend James who had died in a train derailment a couple years before. I wasn’t able to attend the funeral because I had been on vacation when he died. I didn’t know whether or not he knew that. I thought to myself that I’d have to apologize for not being able to make it. I knew his birthday from my calendar and reverse-engineered what year he would have been born in based on his age. I didn’t know when he died so I searched on the laptop for it but still couldn’t find anything. I decided to call my friend Ben to see if he knew.

“Hey Ben, how are you man?” I asked.

“Pretty good, Joe. How are you? Did you find a new job?”

“Just been doing some freelance writing. Can I ask you a quick question?”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Do you know James’ date of death?”

He laughed and told me the date of James’ death. Then he said, “I know why you’re asking. I also tried to call him but haven’t been able to reach him. That devil James hasn’t responded.”

I was shocked and surprised. I knew that Ben never spent a penny on others. The idea that he would spend money to call a ghost was unbelievable.

“Why did you call him?”

He took a moment before he replied. “I had free minutes so I used them to call him hoping I could get the number of his girlfriend. I mean it’s not that useful to him any more.”

I thought for a second and understood why some countries might want to ban this. After death people should be allowed to rest in peace, not be hassled about their former girlfriends.

“Alright Ben, thanks for the info! I’ll catch you later.”

I tried contacting James again. My phone told me ‘ghost not found.’ I tried with all the combinations of information I could think of but I got the same message again and again. I was surprised and confused. Maybe he was using some kind of ‘Do Not Disturb’ service. I called customer support and inquired about it. They told me that there wasn’t any such service for ghosts. Any call they received they would get but they didn’t have to answer it. They told me that the person’s actual date of birth or death was probably different from the information that I had. I explained that I was sure that everything was right and asked them to send the issue up the chain of command. After getting off the phone I sat and thought for a while. Maybe in the future they might open a chat room or even a ghost dating service.

The information I’d collected was not enough to complete three articles. As a writer, I knew what people liked to read and so to spice up my articles I wanted to have a conversation with a famous person but none of them had responded. So I did the next thing, I called my grandma again. She was the only one ghost I knew. She had said she’d seen Steve Jobs. It was my only hope.

“Hi candy boy, where did you go in the middle of our call?” she asked.

“Sorry, grandma there was a problem with the signal.”

“No signal problem here!” she said with a laugh. “It must be on your side of the veil.”

I talked with her for a while again and finally asked her the favor I had in mind.

“If you could please talk to Steve Jobs and get some information for me that would be amazing, grandma.”

“How can I approach him?” she asked. “I can’t very well go up to him and ask for an autograph or a photograph can I? Maybe I’ll tell him I was an iPhone user.”

“Millions and millions of people use the iPhone, grandma” I said and chuckled.

“Okay, well I will find a way. What information do you want from him?”

I thought about it for a second. What information did I want? “Just one question, ask him what he thinks about the new iPhone 5S and 5C as two categories. I’ll call you tomorrow at the same time.”

I hung up the phone and started to write the three Ghost On Call articles that I had been researching. I worked furiously and completed two articles before I fell asleep.

“Candy boy, come on I’m waiting for you!”

I woke up. Oh god, I forgot! I was supposed to call my grandma. I was already late to call her. How did she come into my dream? Ghosts didn’t have outgoing calls yet. I called my grandma’s direct number before a recorded female’s voice said, “your balance is low. Please recharge to make sure that your contact is not interrupted.” My grandma answered after only a single ring.

“Hi candy boy. I was waiting for your call and was just thinking about you.”

“Grandma, I think even without this service that ghosts can connect to humans. It’s pretty unbelievable what just happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were in my dream just now. You asked me to call you.”

“That’s great.”

“Did you get any information from Steve Jobs?”

“Well, I approached him by a friend of a friend of a friend of mine”

“Oh like LinkedIn network.”

“Yes some links. He said that the iPhone 5C and the iPhone 5S are only one type of phone. If people want to have different colors they can just get a case.”

“Wow. Thanks grandma, you did an excellent job”

I talked with her until my balance ran out.

I finally finished the articles and sent them to the editor. The titles were as follows:

1. Does Steve Jobs Like the new iPhone?

2. A Black Hole in Hell? Missing Ghosts

3. Ghosts and their Privacy Issues

They published the Steve Jobs article as a cover page. After a week the assistant editor called me and told me that they had selected all three articles and would publish them in subsequent issues. Further than that though, they offered me a full time position. I was so excited with the news that I was going back to work after six months have having to do freelance writing. I immediately called my wife and told her the news.

It was all due to my grandma’s help. I told her thank you and to tell her sorry to Steve Jobs and that I wouldn’t have gotten this job without his name.

A Month Later

My second article “A Black Hole in Hell? Missing Ghosts” was published and became the hot topic in the city. The article was based on my attempts to find my friend James who had died in a train derailment two years earlier. Even my grandma could not reach him. I thanked him fully for this article and started to pray for him as I had done before. An incoming call from an unknown mobile number interrupted my prayer.

“Hello, Joe speaking,” I said into the receiver. “Hey Joe, this your friend James.”

It was James’ voice. That much was for sure. I was surprised. When did the ghosts get an outgoing call facility? I was speechless for a few seconds.

“Hey Joe, are you there?” asked James’ ghost.

“Hey. I’m just a little surprised to hear your voice, man. How are you? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come to your funeral. I was out of town on vacation. Extremely sorry. I actually was just praying for you.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Look, I’m sorry about the funeral. I should have cut my trip short. Please forgive me.”

“Even my girlfriend hasn’t tried to call me,” said James angrily. “Why did you try? And then you have to make it a whole big issue. Yeah, “Black Hole in Hell? A recent news update says the FBI might even do an investigation about missing ghosts.”

“Wow! Our magazine is available there? Are you in Hell or Heaven?”

He started to yell at me. I didn’t understand why he was so angry. Maybe if you died a violent death you become a violent ghost. He yelled and asked if I had contacted him about the hundred dollars he had borrowed from me three years ago. He seriously laid into me. I almost had to get a dictionary out for a couple of the words he called me.

“Don’t try to call me again. Don’t even think about me. I didn’t die in the train crash, Joe.”

“What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“My relatives wrongly identified a dead body as mine and held the funeral. I used this accident as an opportunity to escape from my debts. I’ve gone away and settled down somewhere where they don’t know me. Listen. Don’t tell anyone. I will transfer $100 to your bank account. Don’t disturb me again.”

He did not even wait for my reply. He simply disconnected the call.

6 Two Robots

Year: 2120

Place: Federation Courtroom

The defendant and plaintiff in this case were both robots. This is not the first time that robots have come to court for justice. The judge asked the first robot to proceed.

“My lord, my name is Rose and I am a robot. My model number is R-Femal-2111 and my configuration is…”

“Your configuration information is not important to me,” interrupted the judge. “I’m here to give judgment, not to do hardware maintenance. Please process with your complaint.”

“My lord, I have been working for 2x Logistics for the past four years. My husband, Blue Tiger also worked there. Six months after we met, we got married. We had it registered as per the requirements in the Robot Marriage act of 2095. I have the certificates with me here.” A small robot came and took the certificates to the judge.

“I’m here to request a divorce. I don’t wish to continue my life with Blue Tiger any more.” The judge terned to the opposite party to proceed.

Blue Tiger introduced himself and proceeded to plead his case. “I am not interested in getting divorced. I am still very much in love. If there’s anything you can do to help me, I’d like to continue to be married to her.”

“Why do you want to divorce him when he’s still in love with you?” the judge asked Rose. “No, my lord. I don’t like him any more. Please won’t you grant me a divorce?”

“My lord, would you please ask her the reason why? If she can give me a good reason, I’ll agree to a divorce.”

“You have to provide a reason before I can grant you a divorce,” said the judge to Rose. Rose thought for a moment before she replied. “He doesn’t suit my taste, nor does he suit my frequency. I plan to get a divorce and pick a new partner who meets my needs.”

“No, my lord!,” shouted Blue Tiger “She has already chosen another robot. His name is Smart Bridge and he works in the shipping division. She wants to marry him. That’s why she’s looking for a divorce. It’s not a good reason at all.”

“Is it true?” the judge asked Rose. “Are you in love with some other robots?”

“It’s not love, but I do plan to get married to him,” replied Rose.

“You do know that an extra-marital affair is illegal as per the Robot Affairs Act, section 2116?” asked the judge.

Rose was silent for a moment before answering. “No, it’s not like that.”

“If there is evidence that you have broken this law, you will be punished.”

“My lord, I have evidence they send messages back and forth,” interrupted Blue Tiger. “Rose has even written poems about him. I accessed her mail and found the poem.”

The small robot took the evidence from Blue Tiger and handed it to the judge.

“Oh shit,” whispered Rose.

“I will have the judgment in two hours. We will reconvene then,” said the judge.

During the break, Rose sat silently for a long while thinking over what had transpired in the case. She eventually got up to talk to Blue Tiger.

“Won’t you please consider withdrawing the case? We can just get a mutual divorce.” “I know why you’re asking for a divorce. It’s because my model is out of date. I’m not doing any favors for you. What do I care if you’re punished. I loved you so much, but you cheated on me. I don’t owe you anything.” Rose left the break room and went to a quiet place to communicate with Smart Bridge. She updated him on the status of the case.

Two hours later, just as the judge had prescribed, he announced the judgment. “The evidence that Blue Tiger has provided indicates without a doubt that Rose has been having an affair with another robot named Smart Bridge. Both Rose and Smart Bridge shall be punished,” said the judge. “However, to retrieve this data, Blue Tiger hacked and accessed the private correspondence of Rose so he too will be punished as per the Cyber Act. “Officers, please find and arrest this robot named Smart Bridge,” said the judge turning to the court officers. “As per the regulations set down, all memories of these three robots will be erased. They will be assigned different names and given back to their employers today after the procedures have been completed.” Later the judge sat in his study writing a letter to the legislation.

“In the future, the government needs to instruct robot manufacturers to only manufacture genderless robots. No more male or female robots. This will save the court time and expense.”

7 The Stupid Scientist

I am a stupid scientist and right now I am standing on a bridge.

Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, the name’s Joe; I was a top scientist at a university and got many offers for employment in the private sector but I chose to teach because I loved the university environment because it offered a great opportunity to continue my own research. For the last six years I’ve been working as a physics professor at the same university I graduated from.

Although I’ve been fully focused on it for the last few years, I’ve not been able to complete my research. All my hard work seems useless. Once I understood that I couldn’t complete it, I decided that I didn’t want to continue my research at all.

I’ve tried to stop a couple times before but I convinced myself to keep going at it. But now I’ve decided that I must quit and the only way is to destroy all my research. As long as they’re around I’ll be tempted to continue with the research and wreck my own future. This research has already spoiled my last six years. A top scientist at a university that earns less than the average classmates do! I don’t even own my own car or house because of all this damned research.

Sorry, I guess I’m getting a little ahead of myself again. My research. Yes it’s about… well, no maybe I shouldn’t tell you right now. I don’t even want to think about it. In fact, it’s useless. I’m about to throw all my research into the river.

Now you know why. I’m standing on the bridge, taking one last look at the briefcase before I throw it all away. Unless I throw it all away, I’ll never be able to do anything useful with my life. So often we read about research successes. Does anyone care about stories about failures in research?

No more waiting. I have to throw it in. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one was even nearby enough to see what I was doing. OK. Time to throw. I closed my eyes for a moment to control my emotions.

Just then what sounded like a very modern bike swooshed down to a halt right next to me. A guy got down from the bike and shouted at me.

“Don’t you dare throw that research into the river!”

I was shocked and looked around. But yes, he was talking to me. He must have been around twenty-five years old.

“Please don’t throw it away. Keep your research. Keep it safe.”

I was speechless for a moment because no one else even knew about my research. He was talking to me like he knew me very well.

“Who are you?” I asked. “How do you know about my research?”

“Listen, I can’t explain. Even if I did you wouldn’t believe it. I’m merely someone who wishes you well. Please keep it safe. I have to go now.”

I grabbed his arm. “Tell me,” I demanded.

“You won’t believe it!”

People had accumulated on the bridge, crowding in to see his ultra-modern bike.

“First you tell me,” I insisted. “And then I’ll decide whether or not to believe it.

“You’re thirty one right now, unmarried and you don’t have kids” he said with a smile.

I was silent and merely looked at him.

“If I told you that you had a grandson, would you believe it?” he asked

“What?”

Now people were touching his bike. He looked at them.

“Listen, I have to get out of here. I’m from the future and I’m your grandson. My father invented a time machine based on your research documents. If you destroy them, how will he ever invent it? I have come here to save the documents. Whether or not you believe me, you have to keep them safe. You might fail at all your inventions, but the research will live on, granddad.”

Without waiting for my reply he started his bike and vanished with a subtle movement but more like a light going out. I gazed with astonishment at where he had been a second ago.

Then, as if reminding myself, I thought “My research certainly is about a time machine. It might not be possible now, but it will be possible in the future. My son will invent that time machine in the future. I’m not a stupid scientist at all.”

8 My Recorder

David speaks from the stage. Nearly forty people are in the audience including some members of the media, his friends and other scientists. Everyone listens attentively.

“Thank you for attending my demonstration session even though I have not yet disclosed what it is I’m demonstrating today. As per your guesses, this session is about my new invention. Some aspects new a little more work, but I wanted to get some feedback before I made finalized anything. That’s the reason for this demo session. That and publicity of course,” said David with a smile.

“David. this is too much suspense. Can’t you just tell us? What’s your invention?" asked one of his David’s friends.

“You are viewing my invention even as we speak. It’s already on stage.”

The audience scanned the stage and saw nothing other than a laptop, a projector and David’s headphones. There was confusion in crowd. The audience talked amongst themselves trying to guess what it could be.

“This is my new invention.” David held the headphones up to the audience. Everybody, including his friends, got upset.

“Does this do any noise cancellation for better quality of voice?" asked a reporter as a joke.

“Nope! Any other guesses?”

It was silent for a long while before David out into the audience and spoke.

“It is a dream recorder.”

“What?" asked the audience collectively.

“Yes. This is the dream recorder. You wear these headphones, fall records your dreams morning you can watch your dreams as videos by easily connecting the headphones to a computer.”

“Is it ready?" a reporter asked in curiosity, before David had even completed his sentence.

“Yes, but for now there’s one small limitation: it only records in black and white format. I’m working on getting it to record dreams in color at the present, but it’s tricky. Before I give you a demo, you should know some facts about dreams and about how my recorder works.”

David continued as the projector showed some slide on the screen behind him:

“#1. Normally you will forgot 80 to 90% of your dreams. But my recorder will record 100% of your dreams. Anything you dream it will record.”

“#2. It’s possible to sleep without dreaming. asleep and then it as videos. The next Obviously, if this occurs the recorder will not pick up anything to record.”

“#3. Some dreams are repeated with slight variations in them. In that case my recorder will record multiple times. You might think it’s made a mistake, but if you look closely you can see the differences between the dreams.”

“#4. Lastly, an important note about dream duration. The time that you dream does not correlate exactly to the time that will be recorded. Your dream’s narrative can be even longer than your total time asleep.”

The same reporter interrupted again. "David please tell us how it works! Can you show us with a demonstration?”

“It’s very easy to use, you simply wear this headphone before you go to sleep. Later, you can view the videos by connecting it to your computer or smart TV.”

The audience clapped.

“Okay, now I will demonstrate it. Who is ready to participate? Somebody has to come up here, wear the headphones and sleep. That’s it. For the demonstration I will project the dream as a live video on that screen right there.”

Most had their hands up to participate in the demo. “One question,” began a reporter, “their actual dream will be on that screen right there?”

“Yes, once the person wakes up, he can cross check the video and confirm that it was recorded accurately.. Are you ready to participate?”

“Oh no, not me, thank you. I know a good deal about dreams. Dreams are unpredictable. They don’t make sense or listen to reason. I might dream about something unacceptable to society. Your invention is great but I am unwilling to share my dream in public.”

“Yes what you said is true, who else would like to come up?”

Another reporter asked, “I don’t understand. What’s the problem with sharing our dreams?”

“Dreams are out of your control,” the reporter replied. “You may dream about anybody. Just for example, you may dream about going on a date with your coworker. You might not have even thought about her like this before. If she or your spouse watched your dream, that wouldn’t be great, would it? That’s just one example. others.”

Now everybody Immediately their hands went down. No one was willing to participate after they thought about the effects it might have on their reputation.

“No one is interested, then?” asked David.

“No,” replied a reporter. “Everybody is interested in your invention. But we’re all afraid to share our dreams because we are not I’m sure there are many

got the reporters point. monks.”

The audience laughed. "If you give me this recorder,” said a scientist, “I will record my dream, watch the videos and share it with you later.”

“But I have to demonstrate it now,” replied David

David thought for a moment. “Alright, then. I will share my own dreams. Hopefully you won’t think I’m trying to trick you in any way. Anyone else please feel free to take my place. I’ll try to fall asleep here and you guys wait, eat the snacks that have been provided. Once I start to dream, you’ll see it on the screen.”

How long David slept, he didn’t know, nobody disturbed him, he woke up and looked at the audience.

“Hey where I am?” he shouted. “Oh it is my bed room… Oh, it was all just my dream. I didn’t complete the dream recorder at all. Just a dream! I must complete my dream recorder soon.”

“Anyway one good thing did come about from this dream. I figured out that I should change the design of my dream recorder so that it was in the headphone form rather than as a helmet as I currently had it.”

9 The Writer

My name is Robin and I am a new writer. A few months ago, I self-published a book that’s gotten rave reviews. Its success convinced me that I should leave my job and make write full time. Every month I receive a decent amount of royalties from the sale of the books I’ve put out into the marketplace. I’m single, and though the royalties aren’t a lot, they’re enough for me to pay my rent, and some nights I even eat out rather than cooking at home.

But in a writer’s life, you’re only as good as your next book. I already have four to five concepts for the book, but I’m on the lookout for new and better concepts. I have a duty to my readers to provide the best stories I can. I’ve been gaining popularity lately and as a growing writer, I even have more twitter followers than some other older, more widely known writers. My readers expect a unique concept for my new book! Unfortunately, after I left my job I’ve been having trouble finding new ideas.. I keep wondering why that is . When I was working full time, the ideas came so often that disturbed me and prevented me from working. In those days, I didn’t even have time to write down the ideas. But now that I am searching for new ideas, I can’t seem to find a single one. And if I do somehow manage to get an idea, it’s often worse than what I already had. I know my ideas should come from inside me, but only outside events can trigger my imagination. After all, imagination needs fuel to run. And that’s why I continue to search outside myself

I’m one of those writers who crafts my story characters from people I’ve seen in real life. Every day is a constant struggle to get up and go out in the street and find people, to look at people. I’m usually pretty shy. I think most writers are shy. If we were extroverts we’d probably be actors. I leave my car at home and walk in to the street to mingle with people. I often wonder about aimlessly with no particular destination in mind. I just walk where my feet are going. But even when I do this, no ideas come to the surface. Perhaps there’s a problem with the right hemisphere of my brain. Maybe I should see a doctor. During my work days I frequently traveled by train to meet my clients. During that time I came up with plenty of ideas but wasn’t able to write them down; I believe those ideas might still be on those trains. So today I am going to travel by train to collect the ideas that I missed. It’s the same train, but the faces are different. I look at every face to sculpt my characters. Some people fit and have roles. Some are merely extras. Most that I see have no place in my stories. They have their own mundane lives and have very little that I can steal or borrow. Everybody is busy. They’re all so certain of where they’re going. Not me. I’m the only ticketed passenger without a destination. I continue to study all their faces. Normal faces, men’s faces, women’s faces. One guy is sitting in the corner seat and jotting down something in his notebook. I watch him for a while. He is writing something, what is he writing? Is he someone like me? Or just a businessman, perhaps a doctor? Maybe he’s only doodling. He notices that I am watching him and suddenly turns down and start writing again. After that he doesn’t look up at me any longer. After that, nothing else is as interesting on the train. I get off at the next station maybe something somewhere will pique my interest. I walked for nearly two hours. No ideas came, but my stomach got hungry. I enter into a restaurant, complete my lunch and wait for the bill. I saw the same guy sits at a nearby table writing notes. There’s no food on his table, just notes. He’s the mystery man. And he’s just writing something in his notes. I get the bill and pay it. This man seems to be following me. Even I don’t know where I’m going but he’s been with me since the train. Only, I must not have noticed. I can’t wait here to watch what he does. Restaurants need paying customers, and people are waiting for this table.

Opposite to the restaurant, there’s an ice cream parlor.. I grab a vanilla cone and sit down on one of their benches to check if the man exits the restaurant. Two ice creams and an hour later, I’m beginning to question myself. My hands are sticky and I have to wonder if this man has been following me at all. Perhaps he owns the restaurant. I decide to go in to check, but there’s a call on my cell. A number I don’t recognize. Is it him? I kept my eye on the doors as I answered the call.

“Hello,” I say to the unknown caller

“Is this the writer Robin?” a man’s voice asks.

“Yes.”

“My name is James calling from United Publishing.”

It could have been my mystery man. But why was he following me if he had my number. Besides, United Publishing was one of the most prestigious publishing companies in the country. They wouldn’t talk someone.

“We would like you to publish your next book with us. When can we sit down and discuss this?”

“Tomorrow around 11 AM works for me.”

“Okay sure. Do you know where our head office is?”

“Yes, I know,” I lied. I vaguely knew where it was. I’d look it up on the internet later. I’m excited by this opportunity. As a writer I’m familiar with this publisher’s work. A lot of the top writers in the past decade have published their novels through them. Needless to say, it’s a high honor for them to be calling me. I forget about the no account note-taking man and start to think about tomorrow’s meeting. Maybe I should pretend I’ve got other offers for my next book. Would that help or hurt my chances?

I got up so early it was still dark out. It didn’t matter, I had hardly slept the night before anyways. Generally publishing companies negotiate in royalties so I decided to take the print-out of my previous book’s royalties. Would that make me seem like an amateur? Would they laugh at how little I’d earned while they were making money hand over fist? As I start the car, an old song plays on the radio. I don’t know the words but I hum along to it until it ends. It’s soothing and before I realize it, I’m waiting at a signal across from the United’s head office building. Now, every second seems like ten minutes. I look around outside. Oh god. Somehow the same guy with the notes has followed me here and is parked parallel to my car a few rows over. He’s watching me and jotting down something. I am clueless as to who he is. I guess maybe they did hire him to follow me? Either way, I’m shocked to see him still around. I want to catch him and shake him and ask him what in the seven seas he wants, but I have a big meeting so I control myself. But I keep an eye on him until I walk into the front of the building. He doesn’t seem to be following me inside thankfully.

I meet James in a conference room and he comes to the point directly:

“Congratulations, you are going to write your next book for us, the time for completion is only four months, but I believe you can handle that? We want to have a new holiday release and we think you’re just the author to provide us with it.”

I am surprised at this offer to say the least. “4 months?”

“Yes, you’re comfortable with that, right?” I sit back in my chair and think for a moment. I wouldn’t have to search for a new concept. I could use any one of the ideas that I already have. If I did that, I could deliver on time. “Sure,” I answered. “Check the agreement, these are usual terms given to writers. We’re going to give you a 20% advance for living expenses. We will pay you right now with a check. 10% will be paid after we finalize the outline as a little reward. 30% will be remitted after the first draft, and the final 40% after you deliver the final copy of the novel. I’ll give you some time to look over it I’m sure it’s a lot to take in. I’ll be waiting in my office. All you need to do is sign it and then you can come collect the advance.”

When he had left the room, I’d noticed that he hadn’t even mentioned the amount. I checked the document and searched for the payment section. Once I saw the amount “one million,” I couldn’t not believe it. I shouted to myself “one million!” Suddenly I was afraid. This is a dream. It has to be a dream. People do not give you a million dollars for writing a book. That’s just crazy. But I check if it’s a dream. I can’t fly, pinching hurts and I’m not in my underwear. Everything seems to check out. I can’t control myself. I expected to be paid a lot less than one million dollars. That wasn’t even in my best case scenario. I hurriedly read through the agreement and signed as fast as I could. Now I am a millionaire. Well, once I complete the book. But wasn’t that the easy part? I walked like a king to James’ office. He looks like he’s having a meeting in his office so I just decide to wait outside. I look around the visitor’s area. There’s a few chairs and a fish tank, but I don’t think there’s any fish in it. And in the corner of the room, there’s a man. And he’s taking notes. This time I lose control. I walk over to him and glare at him.

“Who are you?” I ask.

He doesn’t even acknowledge my presence. He’s too busy with his notes.

“I asked, who are you? I know you are following me, tell me!” I shout.

Now he smiles to himself and notes something else on the page. But he still doesn’t even look at my face.

I shouted again. “Who are you?…”

He doesn’t respond. Maybe he’s deaf? Who cares. He’s following me and I’m going to make him stop. Suddenly I grab his notes and look at that what he is writing down. Oh my god, he’s written down everything about me. He even knows about the million dollar check. He is spying on me.

I start tearing the papers and finally get a response from him:

“Don’t do that. I’m the writer of the story. You are the character and you’ve just destroyed your own story.”

Note:

Sorry for the incongruities, I sculpted a writer character for the story, but the character believes he’s the real writer. He argued with me and likely has destroyed the story. He thinks he’s in control, but I am the real writer of the story.

10 Teleport 2.0

These machines are my boss’ invention. While he’s an excellent scientist, the world has never seen him. He doesn’t want fame or glory. Doing research and invention is his passion. I’ve worked with him for the last three years as an assistant and in this time, he’s invented three things but he never discloses his inventions to the world. Every time he invents something new, I tell him that he should let people know about it. But he just dismisses my advice by saying something like ‘this can be misused’ or ‘maybe one day, but the timing isn’t right.’ I can’t accept that. There’s so much good that can be done for the world, and I need more and more money. So I stole his machines last week while he was busy with some new research. I don’t know the science behind it. But I’ve operated the machines many times and I know if other scientists can get their hands on the machines that they can reverse-engineer them. I can’t live like a monk like my boss can. I want money and I want my hard work to be acknowledged, even if I’m just an assistant.

Teleportation is only a concept to most people. For me, it’s a daily reality. I can’t count the number of times I’ve teleported within the lab. That’s what I stole. I can disappear from one machine and appear in the other in a fraction of a second. And I’m going to sell it to the world.

To monetize it, I prepared a demonstration. At the same day and the same time, I booked two auditoriums. One was in New York and one was in San Francisco. Yes, I am going to have my demonstration in two places that are on two different sides of the North American continent. At first, no one believed me. When I took out ads in the newspaper, people finally started listening. My boss never read the newspaper so I wasn’t afraid he’d catch on. I’ve been contacted by some nut jobs, but for every one of those, I’ve had ten venture capitalists, reporters, industrial leaders and even government authorities who want to get their hands on this new technology. I’ve told them all the same thing: wait for the demo.

Now I’m on stage in New York, behind me there is a teleportation machine and on the other side of the stage there are two screens. One shows the San Francisco stage, and the other shows its audience. The same setup exists in San Francisco, except of course, their screens show the New York stage and audience. Along with this, everything is being live streamed to the internet.

I show my hand to audience and start to talk. “Science fiction concept becomes reality. This is my invention, the teleportation machine!”

The audience looks at the teleportation machine. It looks like a glass wardrobe with two cables connected into the back of it. I begin to explain what teleportation is to the audience, but most of them are familiar with the concept.

“Of course you already know what teleportation is!” I say. “Well then, let’s proceed to the demonstration. I’ll be going to San Francisco by teleportation, please watch me arrive on the screen.”

Once again I wave to the audience and enter into the New York teleportation machine and exit in San Francisco in a fraction of second. I welcome the San Francisco audience and am met with a resounding cheer. The New York audience is clapping from there as well. Some are taking out their phones and calling people, others are hurriedly talking to the audience members next to them.

To impress the both audiences I tell them from San Francisco stage: “I left my water bottle in New York, I’ll be back in just a second.”

I interrupt my speech and enter into the San Francisco teleportation device and exit in New York after I take the water bottle, I see the San Francisco audience by screen and smile. Once again I go back to San Francisco.

I start my speech. “You can’t believe this right?”

Most of the people clap, a few members of press replied.

“Yes. We’re not going to believe it unless we can see it for ourselves. Maybe it’s just an elaborate magic trick. You have one twin here, one twin there. Let us prove it for ourselves.”

I’m not shocked by the reply. Some Hollywood movies have shown how this trick would work with twins.

“Alright then! Any one of you, please come with me to New York! I will teleport you there and get you back here safely. No transport charges! Choose a representative to go, I’ll be waiting.”

After some discussion, they decided to send the CNN reporter. First I sent him by pressing the destination terminal as T01 using the keyboard. The audience and myself see him appear on the screen in New York When he got there, he looked out into the audience and began to talk with them. He asked them if he was really in New York, took some photos and then walked outside the auditorium. After that, we couldn’t see him any longer on the screen.

After a few minutes, one of the reporters suddenly came to the stage and told me that the CNN reporter was on video call on his iPad. We hooked it up so that we could show it on the screen.

“I went outside and checked to make sure that I was in New York,” he began. “I also I checked the current location in Google maps and saw that the city it said I was in was New York. But I can’t believe this, seems to be a dream.”

The audience clapped, they still could not believe what is happening.

“Alright, now I will go to New York and send a different reporter from there to here.”

I sent Francisco, Francisco surrounded me and took photos and started to interview me.

Press: “How does it work?”

Me: “It’s much too technical and complicated to explain in a brief press meeting. I’ll simply say it converts an object from one form to another form after successful transmission and then regenerates the original object at the other end.”

Press: “What is required to operate this machine, is any fuel required?’

Me: “Only electricity to power it and an internet connection to transfer the data. It couldn’t be simpler.”

Press:”What is the use of the internet connection?”

Me: “It could be LAN, WAN or the Internet. the NY Times reporter to San and I appeared again in San right after him. Everybody A connection is required to transport the data like I said. The teleport terminal will convert the object as digital data and transfer it over internet to the receiving terminal. Then the receiving end regenerates the object. After a successful regeneration, the digital data will be automatically erased in both terminals as to prevent copying.”

Press: “Then you mean, a human can be cloned using this?”

Me: “It could be, but that’s really not the functionality of this invention.”

Press: “is it safe?”

Me: “100%, it uses lossless conversion. If there’s an internet connection problem, the data is here so it will either resend it again or regenerate again in the same sending terminal.”

Press: “How can this invention be used?“

Me: “In the future we’ll have no more airports or railways stations, only teleportation stations. People will come to the teleportation station and then can go where ever they want.”

Press: “Can even go to other countries?”

Me: “All the teleportation machines will be linked, they can go to any terminal by entering the terminal number. It can be in any country. It might not even have to be on Earth.”

Press: “Space travel? Other countries? Won’t this be a security risk?”

Me: “Absolutely not. Just like at airport, teleportation will be overseen by the government and everyone will still have to follow the visa and security checks of course.”

One of the press reporters told me that this would be the headline tomorrow and for days to come. They started immediately publishing the news on the internet and I thanked them for their kind words. I sent and received back the reporters. Now I am at New York.

The venture capitalists were eager to meet me. In truth, they’re the ones I wanted to meet with all along.

“Wait a just moment,” I told them. “I will say goodbye to the San Francisco audience and be back in a couple of minutes.”

It took me fifteen minutes to dismiss the meeting and enter into the San Francisco teleportation device after which I reappeared in San Francisco. Business people were waiting for me in New York. Already it was a longer delay than I would have liked I urgently pressed T03 and I exited in New York. No… it was not New York. It was my lab. And my stupid boss was standing front of me. Now I understood. I wrongly pressed the lab’s teleport ID T03. During my work day I tested this machine hundreds of times. I pressed the wrong teleport number by habit and accidentally teleported here. My boss is looking at me angrily and I cannot look him in the eyes. My plan is to run again to the teleportation terminal before my audience wonders where I’ve gone.

“I was busy with my newest research and, in fact, had just completed it when I saw you on the television,” he began. “I hadn’t even noticed my missing teleport machines until I saw the CNN live report and understood what was going on.”

I was silent, just waiting to get out of there. He continued, “You don’t know anything about how the teleportation machines work and still you stole them.”

I run to the teleportation machine and enter the New York teleport ID correctly. Luckily the device is working. I exit and open the door. Again my boss is standing right in front of me.

He pointed his finger at something to my left. That’s when I saw it, the San Francisco teleportation terminal. Now, three teleportation machines were in the room. I’m shocked and I ask him how this is possible.

“This is teleport 2.0,” he said with a smile. “It’s my extension to my teleportation invention. Now I’m able to teleport objects remotely and I can even teleport a teleportation device itself just as I’ve done with the two teleportation machines you thought you could steal.

“Get me back to the audience. The world deserves these machines. Science isn’t for the benefit of only one man,” I yell.

He stood there silently. I lost control ran to him and tried to hit him. But he just dodged and I though better of it. I ran to the store room and fell down in misery. Before I tried to attack him again, He locked the door. I shouted for a long time but got no response.

After 8 hours, He opened the door. I was very tired and gave up trying to attack him. I requested that he allow me to go back with the teleportation machines. I was sure someone was still waiting for me to come back.

He motions over to his computer screen. “Look at that news website.”

The website reads: ‘Black-magic man cheats press media, suddenly disappears from hotel, hotel management complain to police regarding balance of settlement for auditorium rent.’

I pulled up more pages and saw the same article on every one of them. It was even being posted on websites that didn’t even usually post about the news. Nobody believed it was real because the teleportation devices and I disappeared from there. They all thought it was some elaborate hoax.

My boss looked at me for a long time before he spoke. “Get out of here. Never come back.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Family Members

Thanking all my family members.

Editor

Thanks to editor Kyle Sharpe who did a great editing job and point out issues.

Designer

Thanks to graphics designer Robert Sage, who designed the book cover

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Krishna Kumar resides in India and is a new author who writes mainly in the science fiction genre. He is currently working on a novella and above everything else puts his readers first when writing stories.

He is a techie with twelve years of experience in the IT industry and currently works for an IT product startup as their Senior Technology Architect. Writing is his passion and he’s been writing since he was ten years old. This is his first publication. He is thankful for the time he’s been able to spend on this book as his education, family, job and other commitments take up a lot of time. He was waiting for the right time to publish, and he hopes you’ve enjoyed reading his work.

Reach him at www.writerkrish.com

Facebook www.facebook.com/writerkrish

Twitter @writerkrish

Copyright

Copyright © 2014 Krishna kumar

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

ISBN: 1494933446

ISBN-13: 978-1494933449

Content

Krishna kumar
SFS1
Science Fiction Short Stories

1 Rejected Patent

2 Robography

3 Useless Medicine

4 Honey Moon on the Moon

5 Ghost On Call

6 Two Robots

7 The Stupid Scientist

8 My Recorder

9 The Writer

10 Teleport 2.0

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Copyright