Short story of mine
Posted: Mon Jan 04, 2010 9:01 pm
Hello everyone,
Here is a short story that I cooked up a few months ago and I would like to get some opinions on it. Please let me know what you think.
Spinnin’ in the Grave
The capsule spun slowly as the mechanical arms grabbed it and pulled it gently into the metallic embrace of the recovery ship’s retrieval bay. With an almost human tenderness the docking tube moved towards the air lock aboard the capsule and latched hold with only the slightest hiss of escaping gases.
“Transfer Procedure complete”, the computer’s voice rang discordantly throughout the recovery ship. On the bridge a man tried to not let the grating artificial voice stifle the wellspring of anticipation with in him. He had been waiting his entire life for this day to come. He had always known that it would come. In fact, this day had been foretold for almost five hundred Earth years, over four hundred and sixty years before his own birth. Even despite his extensive preparation it still took the man’s breath away to know that the capsule and the spaceship it had come from dated all the way back to the Founding. The man breathed in deeply, allowing his mind to roam through the history of his great nation.
“We are about to open the capsule Citizen Secretary”, the attractive aid whispered into his ear. The man smiled and nodded, his chest filled with pride for his glorious nation, people and planet.
And now he was about to meet the last surviving Founder. General of the Revolution. Author and signer of the compact. Visionary. Intellectual. Leader.
And his ancestor.
The man took an elevator down to room immediately fronting the ship’s airlock. Normally this room was filled with sweaty spacesuits, vacuum tools and other technological detritus. On this great day the dross of the everyday and been cleaned up and the room decked with bunting and streamers. National flags hung from the walls, and both sides of the airlock door were flanked by men from the State Civilian Defense Corps. The SCDC men were resplendent in their space black uniforms and each seemed thrilled at the prospect of seeing the Last Founder with their own eyes.
The man nervously straitened his own uniform as he watched the small clock above the airlock door tick down the seconds until the pressures were completely equalized. At the same moment the clock reached zero the door opened with a small hiss, the pressures were always a little off, and slid smoothly into the hull.
Nathaniel Hurt stepped confidently through the opening. In contrast to the crisp and pressed clothing of his greeting party he was rumpled and unimposing. Yet his broad shouldered stance radiated power and his deep set grey eyes glowed with intelligence. Nathaniel’s descendant was struck with a moment of awe. The Founder looked exactly like his pictures in the history books, right down to the flowing mane and beard of steel grey hair. Irrationally the man had expected Nathaniel to look older, but of course what had been five hundred years on the planet below had only been a few weeks as close to c as Hurt had been traveling.
As his ancestor’s gaze lit upon him Jake Hurt, Citizen Secretary of Low Yield Agriculture for the Republic of Vespucci knew that the time he had been waiting for his whole life had come and stepped forward to meet his famous antecedent.
“Citizen Founder Hurt. I am Citizen Secretary Jacob Hurt, your’ several times over great grandson. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the 37th century.” Nathaniel nodded absently as his eyes roamed over the room one hand had come up to scratch his thick beard. Jake was beginning to wonder if the old man had heard him and was preparing to repeat himself.
“Thanks, Junior”, Nathaniel spoke at last. “Now tell me, who are these fellows here in the black duds?” Jake was at first taken back by his forbearer’s rustic accent and syntax. In preparation for this meeting Jake had studied some of Nathaniel’s writings and the beautifully written prose in those works was far different from the apparent bumpkin who stepped off the capsule.
“Those are elite members of the State Civilian Defense Corps.”
“State Civilian Defense Corps? What happened to the Army?”
“We still have an army, but it was decided several decades ago that the President needed a force that was directly loyal to him and the ruling party.” Nathaniel appeared to consider this for several seconds before looking back to Jake with raised eyebrows.
“Black uniforms huh?”
“Uh, Yes it was decided that Space Black would best reflect the progressive nature of the organization.” Jake was getting rather confused. In his many imaginings of this meeting he had never expected to be grilled on the fashion choices of the SCDC.
“Why not peaked caps or jack boots?”
“I do think that peaked caps were originally incorporated in the uniform but they were discarded a while ago. I am afraid that I don’t know what jack boots are.”
“Never mind. Never mind.” Nathaniel waved away the conversation with an impatient hand. “It’s obvious that a lot had changed while I’ve been trying to play tag with the photons. Perhaps you can bring me up to speed better on the planet.”
“Of course Citizen Founder,” replied the slightly relived Jake, “I am sure that you would like some of the refreshments we have prepared for you. Right this way.”
The twelve hour journey to the surface of Vespucci was rather strained. Nathaniel Hurt rarely spoke and when he did it was usually to ask a question. Most of these questions were political but one of the ones that wasn’t was an inquiry as to how many descendents he had.
Jake could not tell if his famous ancestor was pleased or disappointed by the number five hundred and sixteen but there was no denying that there was a hint of worry in the buried behind the coldness in the Founder’s eyes.
The shuttle settled on to the planets surface with a faint “whump” sound from the deployed landing gears. The shuttle door opened to let its occupants stride out into the cool morning air. Alpha Centauri A was only a few handbreadths above the eastern horizon and Alpha Centauri B was just visible as a pinpoint of light to the southwest. Nathaniel Hurt stopped when his feet touched the ground and breathed deeply for several moments.
“Five hundred years of being cooped up in that tin can and the air still smells like God made it especially for you.” The comment did not seem to be directed at anyone but Jake was pleased to see any sign of levity from the Founder.
“If you would please come this way Citizen Founder we have a series of celebrations for you and a meeting with the Citizen President.” He put an insistent hand on Nathaniel’s elbow and tried to guide him over to a cluster of impressive buildings a few hundred meters distant. He was not too surprised when Nathaniel shook his hand off impatiently.
“All of that Tom foolery can wait till later. First take me to the database. You’ve built it, right?” Jake nodded affirmatively, the Compact had specified that Nathaniel Hurt would be returning exactly five hundred years from its signing and that a database detailing history, government and culture was to be compiled and made accessible to him immediately upon arriving on the planets surface. Jake and his superiors hoped that Nathaniel would prefer to relax first, but the Founder was all business.
“Yes, right this way Citizen Founder,” the Citizen Secretary guided Nathaniel towards a small dome of a building offset away from the others.
“What is with all of this ‘Citizen this and that’ crap?” Nathaniel queried cantankerously as the pair walked towards the database terminal, the SCDC guards followed several dozen meters behind like a flock of ungainly, black goslings.
“It was decided almost a hundred years ago that it was impossible for everyone to be equal when artificially separated by titles and position. So the President decided and the Congress ratified that all citizens shall be known as Citizen first and their title second. The Government Bureau of Demographic Health, Feeling and Wellbeing have done surveys that show the measure has improved egalitarian feelings among the Citizenry by almost two hundred percent.”
“Two hundred percent huh? Well, lead on Comrade.”
“Citizen.”
“Whatever.” Jacob was becoming worried at his ancestors growingly obvious bad temper, his preconceived ancestor had been all smiles at this point.
The database terminal sat in the center of smallish, hemispherical room and glowed with a recently applied polish to his chrome covering. Nathaniel Hurt did not say a word as he sat in the comfortable chair at front of the terminal and began calling up and reading entries. For fifteen minutes he sat and read as Jacob Hurt fidgeted behind him. Finally Nathaniel looked up from the glowing display and speared his descendent with his steely grey eyes.
“Your ‘Citizen President’ holds the position for life, huh?” sarcasm dripped from the title.
“Yes, elections were costly and factitious and it was not fair that a man as intelligent, charismatic and wonderful as the Citizen President should be forced to abdicate after only a few terms.”
“And your Economic Justice and Planning Board does what exactly?”
“The ECJP ensures that wealth is fairly distributed across all segments of society for the betterment of all and not just a few selfish individuals.”
“Do people get to keep any of the money they earn?”
“Yes, we allow the top income brackets to keep eight percent of their income. Besides the Government can spend that money better than they ever can”
“What if they don’t want to pay?”
“Such malfeasance is punished by a sentence in the Education Camps.”
“And religion is allowed only at the license of the Government?”
“Yes, unrestricted religion was too dangerous and caused to much anti-state fanaticism.”
“Education is by license too?”
“Yes, that stops dangerous propaganda from spreading.”
“What happened to the Compact? Does the Compact play any part in the Government.”
“We fully follow the confines of the Founding Compact. We correctly discovered that you meant the Compact to be a living, breathing document that would allow us to adapt with the changing times.” Jacob was bemused by the barrage of questions and even more by the look of physical pain on Nathaniel’s face. “Are you all right Citizen Founder?” Jacob tried to steady the suddenly weakened Founder only to be shaken off.
“What about the right own, maintain and use firearms? Did you correctly interpret that as well?” The intensity in Nathaniel’s eyes was beginning to frighten Jake a bit but nevertheless pumped out his chest with pride.
“As a matter of fact I was a clerk to the Citizen Justice who interpreted that the right to firearms was a collective right that applied to the Government as the agent for the people. He reasoned that there was no way for the Founders to know that unrestricted firearms amongst the populace was incompatible with modern population densities and technology. The Government Bureau for D….” Jacob was cut off when Nathaniel gave a cry like a frustrated Neobear and pressed his palms into his eyes like a man who had just looked into a nuclear blast.
“No! No! No! You idiots messed it all up! Got it all wrong!” The howl of pain and frustration bounced of the walls of the room and completely unnerved Jacob Hurt.
“Citizen Founder! What is wrong?”
“What is wrong? Everything is wrong!” Nathaniel hurt replied bitterly. “Why do you think that I crawled into that stinking tin can for five hundred years so that I could be here now?”
“So that you could see how far the country you helped found has come and so that you could be proud of us,” replied the thoroughly confused Jacob.
“NO! It was because even though we had made the Compact as perfect a founding charter as we could we knew that the nature of man would be to wrap as many chains around himself as he could. Some thought that maybe we would beat the system and that those clauses we put in the Compact would keep our new republic from going the same way that the republics of old have gone. They argued that by studying what destroyed freedom in the republics of Earth we could prevent that from happening to our progeny. All of us hoped that those optimists were right, but to be sure we decided to suspend one of us in light speed to come and view our grand experiment five hundred years later to observe and act.”
“Act?” Jake queried plaintively.
“Yes? Observe to see if our nation has failed and act if it had, restart the whole rotten thing if I had to. Now I think I should have come back fifty years earlier.”
“Restart?” Jake yelped.
“Yes restart,” Nathaniel Hurt replied as grabbed his descendent and delivered a powerful punch to his solar plexus. Nathaniel stood for a second and watched Jacob writhe and gasp on the floor in pain before speaking again. “Don’t you get it? I am the failsafe should liberty fail, and it has.” He turned to walk out the door of the building and pulled a small but powerful pistol out from under is shirt.
“The other founding fathers can only spin in their graves but I intend to do a bit more. I am the reset button.”
Here is a short story that I cooked up a few months ago and I would like to get some opinions on it. Please let me know what you think.
Spinnin’ in the Grave
The capsule spun slowly as the mechanical arms grabbed it and pulled it gently into the metallic embrace of the recovery ship’s retrieval bay. With an almost human tenderness the docking tube moved towards the air lock aboard the capsule and latched hold with only the slightest hiss of escaping gases.
“Transfer Procedure complete”, the computer’s voice rang discordantly throughout the recovery ship. On the bridge a man tried to not let the grating artificial voice stifle the wellspring of anticipation with in him. He had been waiting his entire life for this day to come. He had always known that it would come. In fact, this day had been foretold for almost five hundred Earth years, over four hundred and sixty years before his own birth. Even despite his extensive preparation it still took the man’s breath away to know that the capsule and the spaceship it had come from dated all the way back to the Founding. The man breathed in deeply, allowing his mind to roam through the history of his great nation.
“We are about to open the capsule Citizen Secretary”, the attractive aid whispered into his ear. The man smiled and nodded, his chest filled with pride for his glorious nation, people and planet.
And now he was about to meet the last surviving Founder. General of the Revolution. Author and signer of the compact. Visionary. Intellectual. Leader.
And his ancestor.
The man took an elevator down to room immediately fronting the ship’s airlock. Normally this room was filled with sweaty spacesuits, vacuum tools and other technological detritus. On this great day the dross of the everyday and been cleaned up and the room decked with bunting and streamers. National flags hung from the walls, and both sides of the airlock door were flanked by men from the State Civilian Defense Corps. The SCDC men were resplendent in their space black uniforms and each seemed thrilled at the prospect of seeing the Last Founder with their own eyes.
The man nervously straitened his own uniform as he watched the small clock above the airlock door tick down the seconds until the pressures were completely equalized. At the same moment the clock reached zero the door opened with a small hiss, the pressures were always a little off, and slid smoothly into the hull.
Nathaniel Hurt stepped confidently through the opening. In contrast to the crisp and pressed clothing of his greeting party he was rumpled and unimposing. Yet his broad shouldered stance radiated power and his deep set grey eyes glowed with intelligence. Nathaniel’s descendant was struck with a moment of awe. The Founder looked exactly like his pictures in the history books, right down to the flowing mane and beard of steel grey hair. Irrationally the man had expected Nathaniel to look older, but of course what had been five hundred years on the planet below had only been a few weeks as close to c as Hurt had been traveling.
As his ancestor’s gaze lit upon him Jake Hurt, Citizen Secretary of Low Yield Agriculture for the Republic of Vespucci knew that the time he had been waiting for his whole life had come and stepped forward to meet his famous antecedent.
“Citizen Founder Hurt. I am Citizen Secretary Jacob Hurt, your’ several times over great grandson. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the 37th century.” Nathaniel nodded absently as his eyes roamed over the room one hand had come up to scratch his thick beard. Jake was beginning to wonder if the old man had heard him and was preparing to repeat himself.
“Thanks, Junior”, Nathaniel spoke at last. “Now tell me, who are these fellows here in the black duds?” Jake was at first taken back by his forbearer’s rustic accent and syntax. In preparation for this meeting Jake had studied some of Nathaniel’s writings and the beautifully written prose in those works was far different from the apparent bumpkin who stepped off the capsule.
“Those are elite members of the State Civilian Defense Corps.”
“State Civilian Defense Corps? What happened to the Army?”
“We still have an army, but it was decided several decades ago that the President needed a force that was directly loyal to him and the ruling party.” Nathaniel appeared to consider this for several seconds before looking back to Jake with raised eyebrows.
“Black uniforms huh?”
“Uh, Yes it was decided that Space Black would best reflect the progressive nature of the organization.” Jake was getting rather confused. In his many imaginings of this meeting he had never expected to be grilled on the fashion choices of the SCDC.
“Why not peaked caps or jack boots?”
“I do think that peaked caps were originally incorporated in the uniform but they were discarded a while ago. I am afraid that I don’t know what jack boots are.”
“Never mind. Never mind.” Nathaniel waved away the conversation with an impatient hand. “It’s obvious that a lot had changed while I’ve been trying to play tag with the photons. Perhaps you can bring me up to speed better on the planet.”
“Of course Citizen Founder,” replied the slightly relived Jake, “I am sure that you would like some of the refreshments we have prepared for you. Right this way.”
The twelve hour journey to the surface of Vespucci was rather strained. Nathaniel Hurt rarely spoke and when he did it was usually to ask a question. Most of these questions were political but one of the ones that wasn’t was an inquiry as to how many descendents he had.
Jake could not tell if his famous ancestor was pleased or disappointed by the number five hundred and sixteen but there was no denying that there was a hint of worry in the buried behind the coldness in the Founder’s eyes.
The shuttle settled on to the planets surface with a faint “whump” sound from the deployed landing gears. The shuttle door opened to let its occupants stride out into the cool morning air. Alpha Centauri A was only a few handbreadths above the eastern horizon and Alpha Centauri B was just visible as a pinpoint of light to the southwest. Nathaniel Hurt stopped when his feet touched the ground and breathed deeply for several moments.
“Five hundred years of being cooped up in that tin can and the air still smells like God made it especially for you.” The comment did not seem to be directed at anyone but Jake was pleased to see any sign of levity from the Founder.
“If you would please come this way Citizen Founder we have a series of celebrations for you and a meeting with the Citizen President.” He put an insistent hand on Nathaniel’s elbow and tried to guide him over to a cluster of impressive buildings a few hundred meters distant. He was not too surprised when Nathaniel shook his hand off impatiently.
“All of that Tom foolery can wait till later. First take me to the database. You’ve built it, right?” Jake nodded affirmatively, the Compact had specified that Nathaniel Hurt would be returning exactly five hundred years from its signing and that a database detailing history, government and culture was to be compiled and made accessible to him immediately upon arriving on the planets surface. Jake and his superiors hoped that Nathaniel would prefer to relax first, but the Founder was all business.
“Yes, right this way Citizen Founder,” the Citizen Secretary guided Nathaniel towards a small dome of a building offset away from the others.
“What is with all of this ‘Citizen this and that’ crap?” Nathaniel queried cantankerously as the pair walked towards the database terminal, the SCDC guards followed several dozen meters behind like a flock of ungainly, black goslings.
“It was decided almost a hundred years ago that it was impossible for everyone to be equal when artificially separated by titles and position. So the President decided and the Congress ratified that all citizens shall be known as Citizen first and their title second. The Government Bureau of Demographic Health, Feeling and Wellbeing have done surveys that show the measure has improved egalitarian feelings among the Citizenry by almost two hundred percent.”
“Two hundred percent huh? Well, lead on Comrade.”
“Citizen.”
“Whatever.” Jacob was becoming worried at his ancestors growingly obvious bad temper, his preconceived ancestor had been all smiles at this point.
The database terminal sat in the center of smallish, hemispherical room and glowed with a recently applied polish to his chrome covering. Nathaniel Hurt did not say a word as he sat in the comfortable chair at front of the terminal and began calling up and reading entries. For fifteen minutes he sat and read as Jacob Hurt fidgeted behind him. Finally Nathaniel looked up from the glowing display and speared his descendent with his steely grey eyes.
“Your ‘Citizen President’ holds the position for life, huh?” sarcasm dripped from the title.
“Yes, elections were costly and factitious and it was not fair that a man as intelligent, charismatic and wonderful as the Citizen President should be forced to abdicate after only a few terms.”
“And your Economic Justice and Planning Board does what exactly?”
“The ECJP ensures that wealth is fairly distributed across all segments of society for the betterment of all and not just a few selfish individuals.”
“Do people get to keep any of the money they earn?”
“Yes, we allow the top income brackets to keep eight percent of their income. Besides the Government can spend that money better than they ever can”
“What if they don’t want to pay?”
“Such malfeasance is punished by a sentence in the Education Camps.”
“And religion is allowed only at the license of the Government?”
“Yes, unrestricted religion was too dangerous and caused to much anti-state fanaticism.”
“Education is by license too?”
“Yes, that stops dangerous propaganda from spreading.”
“What happened to the Compact? Does the Compact play any part in the Government.”
“We fully follow the confines of the Founding Compact. We correctly discovered that you meant the Compact to be a living, breathing document that would allow us to adapt with the changing times.” Jacob was bemused by the barrage of questions and even more by the look of physical pain on Nathaniel’s face. “Are you all right Citizen Founder?” Jacob tried to steady the suddenly weakened Founder only to be shaken off.
“What about the right own, maintain and use firearms? Did you correctly interpret that as well?” The intensity in Nathaniel’s eyes was beginning to frighten Jake a bit but nevertheless pumped out his chest with pride.
“As a matter of fact I was a clerk to the Citizen Justice who interpreted that the right to firearms was a collective right that applied to the Government as the agent for the people. He reasoned that there was no way for the Founders to know that unrestricted firearms amongst the populace was incompatible with modern population densities and technology. The Government Bureau for D….” Jacob was cut off when Nathaniel gave a cry like a frustrated Neobear and pressed his palms into his eyes like a man who had just looked into a nuclear blast.
“No! No! No! You idiots messed it all up! Got it all wrong!” The howl of pain and frustration bounced of the walls of the room and completely unnerved Jacob Hurt.
“Citizen Founder! What is wrong?”
“What is wrong? Everything is wrong!” Nathaniel hurt replied bitterly. “Why do you think that I crawled into that stinking tin can for five hundred years so that I could be here now?”
“So that you could see how far the country you helped found has come and so that you could be proud of us,” replied the thoroughly confused Jacob.
“NO! It was because even though we had made the Compact as perfect a founding charter as we could we knew that the nature of man would be to wrap as many chains around himself as he could. Some thought that maybe we would beat the system and that those clauses we put in the Compact would keep our new republic from going the same way that the republics of old have gone. They argued that by studying what destroyed freedom in the republics of Earth we could prevent that from happening to our progeny. All of us hoped that those optimists were right, but to be sure we decided to suspend one of us in light speed to come and view our grand experiment five hundred years later to observe and act.”
“Act?” Jake queried plaintively.
“Yes? Observe to see if our nation has failed and act if it had, restart the whole rotten thing if I had to. Now I think I should have come back fifty years earlier.”
“Restart?” Jake yelped.
“Yes restart,” Nathaniel Hurt replied as grabbed his descendent and delivered a powerful punch to his solar plexus. Nathaniel stood for a second and watched Jacob writhe and gasp on the floor in pain before speaking again. “Don’t you get it? I am the failsafe should liberty fail, and it has.” He turned to walk out the door of the building and pulled a small but powerful pistol out from under is shirt.
“The other founding fathers can only spin in their graves but I intend to do a bit more. I am the reset button.”