March 4, 2014


Each Tuesday, rather than a POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY, I'd like to both challenge you and lend a helping hand. I generate more speculative and teen story ideas than I can ever use. My family rolls its collective eyes when I say, "Hang on a second! I just have to write down this idea..." Here, I'll include the initial inspiration (quote, website, podcast, etc.) and then a thought or two that came to mind. These will simply be seeds -- plant, nurture, fertilize, chemically treat, irradiate, test or stress them as you see fit. I only ask if you let me know if anything comes of them.

Change of pace for a bit – I’m going to look at elements of EXTREMELY popular SF, F, and H; break them apart and use each element as a jumping off point for a story idea…

Popular Science Fiction Story/Series: Dune

SF Trope: Achilles heel…

Logan Andrist stared at the Ojibwe creature and said, “Are you Human?”

The creature laughed then said, “As Human as you are, at least.”
Nkokoyanga Pomodimo scowled and said, “What’s that mean?”

The creature shrugged, “You assume that your current form is Human, when that may not be the case. Comparing you to the Humans of my time, I can see definite changes in phenotype and genotype.”

“How can you see changes in genotype?” Nkokoyanga said. “That’s impossible!”

“I didn’t say I could see your genotypes – I can taste them.”

“What?” both Logan and Nkokoyanga exclaimed.

“I didn’t say I was entirely Human, either. But I’m closer to the original model than either of you.” He paused then added, “We can talk more about it in the comfort of my home if you’d like.”

“What do you mean by ‘home’?” Nkokoyanga asked. “My scanner doesn’t show any kind of energy signature or the appearance of a structure.”

 “There are more ways to build and run something than making it out of concrete and hooking it up to the power grid or a powersat beam.”

“Like how?” Logan asked, curious despite the wild, crazy appearance of the man. Dressed in brown shirt and pants, he wore shoes of a similar material. A medallion at his throat supported a chest piece of four panels of large bead rows in a fan shape. Along the right side, small feathers were individually tied to spray across his chest. His skin was red-brown, his hair was silky black and tied into two thick braids that hung down his chest.

Noting Logan’s stare, he tapped his chest, “I’m sure you’re wondering how someone as – savage – as me could possibly have any idea what you’re talking about. But let me assure,” he looked directly at Nkokoyanga, saying, “I’m the one who is blocking your signal.”

“How can you do that? Nothing can block a direct satellite uplink!”

“There are some things that can.”
“What could possibly keep us from getting our satellite signal?”

He smiled, held up one arm, palm up, then turned in a very slow circle. For the first time, Logan noticed that while they were able to look downhill to the bay, all but a gap of some five meters walled them in.

The Ojibwe man said, “You see it, don’t you, Logan?”

“See what?” Nkokoyanga said, “What?”

Logan said, “I think he’s got us in a bowl of matter – a pit – and under our feet is an antenna positioned in the pit.” This time he pointed, “A berm made of dirt’s been pushed up around this area then there a wall on top of that. Looks to me that it’s made of recast concrete panels in two layers. First and second shielding are layered for shielding the antenna from electromagnetic energy of first and second wavelengths. Looks like a few parallel slats each having a substantially planar first reflective face extending at a first angle from the vertical. The perpendicular distance between the first reflective faces is substantially equal to one-half of the first wavelength. In effect, we’re deaf, dumb and blind."
The Ojibwe man smiled, bowed and said, “It’s all for a very, very good purpose. It will be our pleasure to convince you of our work and then ask you to join us.”

“And if we don’t?” Nkokoyanga challenged. Logan tried to elbow her into submission.

The Ojibwe man raised both eyebrows, saying, “I’m sure you’d like if I said something dramatic like ‘Then we’ll have to kill you’,” he gestured to the foot of the hill far below. “But nothing near so dramatic. We’d take you home.” He paused, “All the way home.”

Logan exclaimed, “I live in St. Louis Vertical Village!”

He nodded, “Then you will have a long way to walk. Best if you started now.”

Names: Names: Central African Republic, Gbaya; Minnesota, Minnesota

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