eighteen
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29-04-2017, 07:21 AM (This post was last modified: 30-04-2017 01:21 AM by houseofcantor.)
eighteen
There's something on the moon.

What, Trevor; what is on the moon?

There's a structure. It wasn't there before.

Before when?

Before the last time anyone has looked. You remember Fiona, right?

Trevor I swear to the god I don't believe in, if this is another one of your Fiona stories!

I know. I work at jpl wasn't a thing to make a call, align a glass and have a look. I know how you feel about Fiona. I went to work first, three weeks ago.

Trevor, what are you saying?

When I had a hunch about a certain location on the moon, I asked casual favors. I love Fiona, but I'm not an idiot. This was different.

It's always different with Fiona, Trevor. Note my skeptical eyebrow.

One thing that was definitely different was her drinking the electricity from the wall. That's never happened before.

Are you on drugs? I probably should have asked that earlier... you don't look like you're on drugs, so pray tell continue.

Thanks, Luke, you're a hell of a guy. She leaned down next to the outlet on the wall and pressed her fingers into the damn slots like a toaster. I chuckled until her hair started to rise. She was communicating with someone.

Wait.... someone?

After the eggheads down the hall passed around the images from three weeks ago, all of a sudden darpa is sniffing around. I told my contacts to say it was their hunch. The useful part being a certain set of coordinates became increasingly important to an increasing amount of talented individuals. It's growing, Luke.

What is growing? The structure?

The structure, Luke.

Someone is building a structure on the moon? The Chinese?

No, Luke, not the Chinese. If anything, they're American. No, Luke, it is not some black bag op; when we went to the moon in the sixties, one of us didn't come back. Someone came back as one of us but it wasn't the same man that went.

Who, Trevor? Who didn't come back? Why hasn't there been anything on the news?

What are we gonna put on the news, Luke? Hello world, I don't want to interrupt your evening meal, but we're currently in a first contact situation with intelligent life where we can surrender or die, so we're going to surrender. now back to you, Liz. How well do you think that's going to go over, Luke? People would lose their shit.

Are you saying the United States of America has surrendered to... what, exactly, a structure? A former astronaut? Your nutbag friend Fiona? Help me out here, Trey, throw me a line.

The talented individuals I mentioned earlier decided that it was in the nations best interests to keep the civilians distracted. If I told you that there was something to all the UFO bullshit I'd expect you to rightly make a call. For the white coats and the butterfly nets. Something is happening, something is continuing to happen, and Fiona is a part of it. Do you remember what a Von Neumann machine is?

Yes. A precursor to nanotechnology. It was speculated that an advanced culture of explorers might simplify the exploring part by using self replicating machinery, if I'm reading the context correctly. Are telling me the structure on the moon is being made from Von Neumann machines? And it is communicating with us? With Fiona? Trevor, that is straight up insane. I'm going to have to hold you right there, Trey, while I go outside to have a smoke and make some calls.

Mike at Vandenberg?

Fiona

I remember you.

Make lean. In between. I'm sorry there's no one here to take your call.

Dingy light shines around a moderately clean curtain. Fiona stands in her kitchen feeling for the motes of light that dance and sway and tell a different story from yesterday.

I cannot help you. I cannot help myself.

I've talked to Trey, isn't that what you wanted? I don't want you, you don't want me. So leave.

What do you mean, they're coming? Who's them?

Who's there?

At Trevor's apartment, Trevor and Luke

Joan Marsh!?!? Fiona's real name is Joan?

No. Fiona's real name is Joan Fiona Marsh, Luke.

I've been transferred. Lawrence Livermore. I've got to get out of here and get on a jet. I don't know what the fuck to say, Trey. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. First Contact. We're.. us the human race is supposed to to find them. Every time the story begins with them finding us, that's us, fucked. Trevor, later; it has been interesting, and the curse of interesting times is surely manifesting with alacrity. I've got to call the wife.

Good bye, Luke.

Rather, let us say later, Trey.

Chapter 1

My apartment is white and chrome with blond wood. Light and airy whenever the sun penetrates the subtropical forest that has consumed our neighborhood and is now lurking in the dark looking in my window, Lurking but unseen. In the window I see a middle aged middle manager looking back.

Looking back I see Fiona. She is studying physics my sophomore year at WPI while I do as little math as possible for a student mathematician.

Before I quite realize the implications I become Fiona and me. We study physics together. I did as much math as it was possible to streamline my undergraduate degree in physics after realizing pure mathematics was never going to be for me. And also there was Fiona and me. She stood between me and the world. Fiona's friends became my friends, Fiona's life became my life.

My friend is Luke. While I continued at WPI Luke went to Stanford for his graduate degree. He had twenty years enough of New England winters and once he demonstrated to his parents his competence exceeded that of his siblings previous rumors of trust funds suddenly materialized. Luke was always telling me he came from money, but I had never seen it. He also told me that the split level ranch house we regularly hung out at was his. His brother always said differently. We turned twenty one there one last summer. Fiona and me and Luke.

Luke got a golden ticket for his twenty first which he rode off into the sunset.
For Fiona the sunset rode to her. Her headaches heralded schizophrenia. Fiona and me could not handle the strain so I rode off into my own sunset.

By sunset I mean I moved down the street and into my own apartment. She needed time to recognize her illness and begin healing and I was too close. She didn't need a lover, she needed a friend.
I focused on that. I completed my degree only to realize Fiona and me was also Fiona and physics , further that I did not really want to do physics, so I took my freshly minted sheepskin and had it framed to hang behind the cash register at Freddie's Comics.

Of Freddie, Luke's brother fame. Freddie may not have been the scholastic apple of his parent's eye, but when they gave him the comic book store he asked for he turned it into three. He gave me one to run and to live in and to help out on some special ops.

Special ops for both me and the store. Freddie wasn't making money moving comics so much as moving cannabis. I didn't care. By this time I realized the parents of Luke and Freddie were not just rich. There was a foundation that held trusts and a bank to store them in. The foundation has properties. Properties like ranch houses in the sticks and office buildings downtown.

The foundation signs the checks. The foundation signs a lot of checks. Once a month they sign mine. A District Manager of Freddie's Comics makes 112k a year. Who knew?

Chapter 2

Ma comes over one morning. Luke's ma. "Trevor you ain't doing shit. You've had a year to move on. You haven't been moving on you've been moping forward. I want Frederick to stop pissing about and go back to school. I want you to go with him."

"But Ma..."

"Trevor, I know what is going on with the comics. You and Frederick could run the comic stores in your sleep."

"But Ma..."

"Trevor, Frederick's little marijuana operation is only a pointless expression of teenage rebellion allowed for far too long. Go with him to Cambridge. Do it for one semester. You need something to take your mind off of Fiona. You need a change of scenery."

"What does Freddie think about this? He really didn't seem to like school."

"Trevor, take this phone. I picked it up for you on the way over. Goodbye Trevor."

Freddie's mother leaves me with a sleek rectangle of the latest technology. Luke's mother never treated me like a servant. I didn't really ever meet her until after I started working for my friend's brother. The phone was to become my new employer. It conveniently informed me of my new employment by chirping in my hand as Ma walked outside to her car.

There's a text from Ma and a link to the location of Freddie's Comics in Cambridge. I never knew there was a Freddie's outside of town.

Neither did Freddie.

Chapter 3

A different phone rings me back to the present.

...and that's all I got, spun up while the homies were watching the cw superfest.

living word
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29-04-2017, 08:38 AM
RE: eighteen
Do you want to know about the five typos I spotted or about how good I thought that was / will be?

Thumbsup

Keep going. I like that each character has been introduced but not yet described... allows for interpretation. Yes

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29-04-2017, 12:01 PM
RE: eighteen
(29-04-2017 08:38 AM)DLJ Wrote:  Do you want to know about the five typos I spotted or about how good I thought that was / will be?

Thumbsup

Keep going. I like that each character has been introduced but not yet described... allows for interpretation. Yes

That smells like encouragement. Everybody's got a novel in 'em, so I heard. Mine's 17, a short story about a pigeon. Which is wack and visual and if I could sit down and write it, it'd be a 20 minute anime video; but that is a lot of work.

This here is the story of the LC being an indifferent artificial intelligence conquering the universe one galaxy at a time.

It has me and my Gwynnies.

And Luke, sober me.

And you. Feel free to offer corrections. The other day I wrote the book of Gwynnite in two forms. The part where I'm a prophet cannot help but sound like pretentious windbaggery. Later, i.e. this morning, this version sounded better.

There's a count, one from the bottom which ends at 16. One from the top which ends at 18. From the 18 side we're looking at a distributed fractal intelligence. The punchline is -

We're not looking for you, we're looking for 17. Wink

living word
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29-04-2017, 12:10 PM
RE: eighteen
Waiting for the next installment...

[Image: dobie.png]Science is the process we've designed to be responsible for generating our best guess as to what the fuck is going on. Girly Man
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29-04-2017, 12:27 PM
RE: eighteen
When the fam is all televised and shit. Big Grin

Imma got to Providence, get the fam to hang and shit, research some background. I wanted to make T&L local and stuff, cause ya write about what you know. This way it is fun and there is no failure state.

If I can express my geometric religion as a science fiction trilogy, that's all win. And there's already a trilogy of material in the ol' stupid brain. Wink

living word
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29-04-2017, 12:39 PM
RE: eighteen
Ya but when do they fuck? Tongue

If we came from dust, then why is there still dust?
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29-04-2017, 12:42 PM
RE: eighteen
(29-04-2017 12:39 PM)cactus Wrote:  Ya but when do they fuck? Tongue

Luke and Trevor? Gasp

living word
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29-04-2017, 07:39 PM (This post was last modified: 29-04-2017 07:44 PM by GirlyMan.)
RE: eighteen



#sigh
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