Smile_Time351
Member
Hey guys,
Just wondering if you could take some time to read my Sci-Fi story and tell me what you think. This is only first draft, so don't be surprised if you find it somewhat lacking. Specifically, given that it has a lot of time issues, let me know if you can find any continuity or tense-based errors. Your feed back is greatly appreciated.
Cheers,
Smile Time
9th August, 2021
My memories are clouded. The events of the next few weeks will be very confusing, and will likely appear to the casual reader to be nonsense, and perhaps it will be. I will record this future anyway, because it will be important to record the lesson I will learn, that nothing and everything is written in stone. That time is an illusion and power over it even more so. That the best any of us can hope to do is to just live our life killing time, before it kills us.
The date will be 10th September, 2021, and my codename will be Mulligan, of the intelligence organisation MERLIN. Don’t ask me what it stands for, I won’t know until I join. My partner, codename Virus and I will be assigned a mission to sabotage the Soviet Nanotech Disruptor, a device that will have the capacity to emit an EMP of such high frequency that it will cause any mechanical device to break apart. Planes, tanks, missiles, supercomputers, all of it. Anything that can take away that much power in one hit will make some very powerful people very scared, and construction is almost complete. Or is already complete… semantics, unimportant.
11th September, 2021
I had an unusual conversation with Virus today. He is a good man, but easily confused by what he calls my ‘non-linear perceptions’. I explained to him that perceptions can not be linear or otherwise, they are simply perceptions. The pain of the feedback will be incredible, and my brain will feel like it is running out of my ears. I apologise. I am describing the events that will occur eight days from now.
24th May, 2015
It’s amazing how a construct of our own design can control us so completely. Time is a man-made concept, universal though it may seem. Certainly there are those who claim other species are privy to its fluctuations. Dogs that return to the same place at the same time, every day. Cats that know when it is meal time, and can remind their owners of the fact. But these are all senses of routine, not time as we perceive it. It is a concept that we created, and yet there is nothing we fight against more vehemently. We hate its unyielding nature, its unforgiving continuity even in the face of the direst horrors. Illogical, but we were never a rational species. There is no logic in the chronological.
22nd November, 1963
I know who killed Kennedy. Oswald was framed, but it wasn’t the grassy knoll that hid the killer. The real gunner was
11th August, 2021
The plan will be sound. All machines have a weakness. An Achilles gear, so to speak. All Virus and I will have to do is remove this critical part, and the whole machine comes tumbling down. MERLIN control will tell us exactly which part this is, and will provide us Soviet cover identities. I don’t believe I will like mine. I never liked wearing glasses. And no, I don’t know what it stands for yet, give me some time.
“Virus!” he yelled in my direction, “Duck!” and I immediately complied. If there is one thing I have learned in my days at MERLIN, it’s to trust Mulligan’s judgement. However, nothing happened. No bullet whizzed over my head, no hostile object flew past. I turned to snap back at him for the false alarm, but he had disappeared again. Goddamn him, I muttered under my breath as I levelled my pistol at the nearest Red Guard and squeezed off a shot. Without looking to see if I had shot true, I dropped to the ground and performed a carefully executed tumble towards the door, just like I was taught in my training days at MERLIN, a name that still intrigues me to this day. Who’d have thought it stood for-
“Virus!” Mulligan’s voice jerked me from my battlefield introspection. “Duck!” I turned and saw him yelling at my previous position, noting observantly that he was standing at the exact same point as his previous warning, before disappearing again. Stuck in a loop Mulligan? I understood my enigmatic partner less and less the more time I spent with him. I didn’t sign up for this shit. I continued my tumble, and as I approached a nearby crate, I brought my legs up from under me, calf muscles carefully tensing as I sprung headlong over the crate, taking cover from the oncoming fire from the other direction. Positioning myself into a crouch, I noticed the writing on the crate I was using as cover. The Russian on the stamp read: “Microwave Emitter”. Fucking Soviets and their gadgets. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate cool toys as much as the next techie, but there’s a line! Where do gadgets stop being a tool and start being a crutch?
Virus never got the answer to his philosophical question, because at that moment, an explosion went off in the corridor behind him, releasing shrapnel in all directions. As the large metal shard caught Virus in the back of the head, causing a blinding yellow light to erupt from behind his eyes, only one thought echoed through his mind: Ahh, maybe that’s why he wanted me to duck. Sure enough, Mulligan appeared in the same spot, desperately seeking Virus’ battle-ravaged form. “Virus!’ he yelled, “Duck!”, but it was too late…
17th September, 2021.
What is the point of precognition if you are unable to do anything about what you see? Virus’ death taught me two things: that omniscience is powerlessness. A being that can see the future is powerless to change it; and that knowing something is never the same as living it. For years I knew this day would come. I saw the hour of Virus’ death before I saw his face for the first time. But it still hurts, more than I could ever have imagined. My hyper-awareness to the facets of time has not tempered the blade of emotion. I will avenge Virus’ death, if I have to kill every fucking Russian on this or any other planet, starting with that thrice-damned son-of-a-bitch Stalin.
No, I won’t. I know how this will end, and it is not the way that it should. I am powerless to stop Virus’ death or any other, save my own. The “Temporal Loop” as I have begun to call it, will make sure of that. My ‘destiny’, if it can be called that, was predetermined a long way back. Not that it changes anything. For years now, I’ve had the temptation to give in to fatalism, to accept that what will come will come, and that there is no point in fighting it. But I fight it anyway, because apathy is death. The only thing that lets me live despite the ravages of time is the will to continue fighting it, destiny or otherwise.
6th May, 2012
Why doesn’t she understand? Why doesn’t anyone understand? There is a necessity in what I do! My work must be completed for the good of the nation! For the good of all of us. There are sacrifices that need to be made in the interest of progress. She of all people should be able to understand that. The risks, she says, are too great. Meddling with time can only lead to pain, and who knows what side effects there will be? She doesn’t understand that in the pursuit of power like this there are no risks palpable enough to be seriously considered. All is worth it and, much as it may pain me to do it, I cannot allow her to interfere. Not now.
6th May, 2012
He’s actually going to go through with this! Why won’t he listen to me? The risks are too great and, while success would lead to great things, he’s become so blinded by his own bravado that he won’t even consider the trade-off! Am I really worth that little to him? He won’t consider what will happen if he fails. Lost, forever in the strands of time; stuck in a permanent loop that he can’t escape from or even control! Who knows where he will end up? The slums of London during the great fire? Rome as it is sacked by the Visigoths? Constantinople while the Turks ravage it? The trenches of France during the First World War? A bleak world without life, where all humanity is extinct? Or worse? Nothing is worth that possibility, not even the prospect of gleaning knowledge into the Earth’s creation. Nothing. Knowledge is power, certainly, but there has to be a limit on both of them. He condemns my arguments, likening them to the typical “humans shouldn’t play God” line, and maybe he’s right. We have restrictions placed upon us for a reason. Maybe there’s a reason why we only use ten per cent of our brain power. The other ninety allow us to unmake the universe…
19th September, 2021
I think I may finally have stretched my temporality to its limits. I have achieved a state of control, but it is slipping through my fingers. I tried to make the jump at last, the ultimate jump back; all the way back, but when I tried, something went wrong. It was as if I was being wrenched from the inside out. The pain of the feedback was incredible, and my brain felt like it was running out of my ears, but worst of all, I saw the end. My end, and it’s worse than I could ever have imagined. Knowing the hour of one’s death is surprisingly humbling, and knowing that one never will die is even more so. I can kill time no longer. Time has killed me. I give in at last; it seems that she was right; the pros did not outweigh the cons. No degree of power is worth this. Nothing and everything is written in stone. Time is an illusion; and power over it even more so.
And do you know what annoys me the most? I never found out what MERLIN stood for…
9th August, 2021
My memories are clouded. The events of the next few weeks will be very confusing…
Just wondering if you could take some time to read my Sci-Fi story and tell me what you think. This is only first draft, so don't be surprised if you find it somewhat lacking. Specifically, given that it has a lot of time issues, let me know if you can find any continuity or tense-based errors. Your feed back is greatly appreciated.
Cheers,
Smile Time
Take Back
My memories are clouded. The events of the next few weeks will be very confusing, and will likely appear to the casual reader to be nonsense, and perhaps it will be. I will record this future anyway, because it will be important to record the lesson I will learn, that nothing and everything is written in stone. That time is an illusion and power over it even more so. That the best any of us can hope to do is to just live our life killing time, before it kills us.
The date will be 10th September, 2021, and my codename will be Mulligan, of the intelligence organisation MERLIN. Don’t ask me what it stands for, I won’t know until I join. My partner, codename Virus and I will be assigned a mission to sabotage the Soviet Nanotech Disruptor, a device that will have the capacity to emit an EMP of such high frequency that it will cause any mechanical device to break apart. Planes, tanks, missiles, supercomputers, all of it. Anything that can take away that much power in one hit will make some very powerful people very scared, and construction is almost complete. Or is already complete… semantics, unimportant.
11th September, 2021
I had an unusual conversation with Virus today. He is a good man, but easily confused by what he calls my ‘non-linear perceptions’. I explained to him that perceptions can not be linear or otherwise, they are simply perceptions. The pain of the feedback will be incredible, and my brain will feel like it is running out of my ears. I apologise. I am describing the events that will occur eight days from now.
24th May, 2015
It’s amazing how a construct of our own design can control us so completely. Time is a man-made concept, universal though it may seem. Certainly there are those who claim other species are privy to its fluctuations. Dogs that return to the same place at the same time, every day. Cats that know when it is meal time, and can remind their owners of the fact. But these are all senses of routine, not time as we perceive it. It is a concept that we created, and yet there is nothing we fight against more vehemently. We hate its unyielding nature, its unforgiving continuity even in the face of the direst horrors. Illogical, but we were never a rational species. There is no logic in the chronological.
22nd November, 1963
I know who killed Kennedy. Oswald was framed, but it wasn’t the grassy knoll that hid the killer. The real gunner was
11th August, 2021
The plan will be sound. All machines have a weakness. An Achilles gear, so to speak. All Virus and I will have to do is remove this critical part, and the whole machine comes tumbling down. MERLIN control will tell us exactly which part this is, and will provide us Soviet cover identities. I don’t believe I will like mine. I never liked wearing glasses. And no, I don’t know what it stands for yet, give me some time.
* * * * *
“Virus!” Mulligan’s voice jerked me from my battlefield introspection. “Duck!” I turned and saw him yelling at my previous position, noting observantly that he was standing at the exact same point as his previous warning, before disappearing again. Stuck in a loop Mulligan? I understood my enigmatic partner less and less the more time I spent with him. I didn’t sign up for this shit. I continued my tumble, and as I approached a nearby crate, I brought my legs up from under me, calf muscles carefully tensing as I sprung headlong over the crate, taking cover from the oncoming fire from the other direction. Positioning myself into a crouch, I noticed the writing on the crate I was using as cover. The Russian on the stamp read: “Microwave Emitter”. Fucking Soviets and their gadgets. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate cool toys as much as the next techie, but there’s a line! Where do gadgets stop being a tool and start being a crutch?
Virus never got the answer to his philosophical question, because at that moment, an explosion went off in the corridor behind him, releasing shrapnel in all directions. As the large metal shard caught Virus in the back of the head, causing a blinding yellow light to erupt from behind his eyes, only one thought echoed through his mind: Ahh, maybe that’s why he wanted me to duck. Sure enough, Mulligan appeared in the same spot, desperately seeking Virus’ battle-ravaged form. “Virus!’ he yelled, “Duck!”, but it was too late…
* * * * *
What is the point of precognition if you are unable to do anything about what you see? Virus’ death taught me two things: that omniscience is powerlessness. A being that can see the future is powerless to change it; and that knowing something is never the same as living it. For years I knew this day would come. I saw the hour of Virus’ death before I saw his face for the first time. But it still hurts, more than I could ever have imagined. My hyper-awareness to the facets of time has not tempered the blade of emotion. I will avenge Virus’ death, if I have to kill every fucking Russian on this or any other planet, starting with that thrice-damned son-of-a-bitch Stalin.
No, I won’t. I know how this will end, and it is not the way that it should. I am powerless to stop Virus’ death or any other, save my own. The “Temporal Loop” as I have begun to call it, will make sure of that. My ‘destiny’, if it can be called that, was predetermined a long way back. Not that it changes anything. For years now, I’ve had the temptation to give in to fatalism, to accept that what will come will come, and that there is no point in fighting it. But I fight it anyway, because apathy is death. The only thing that lets me live despite the ravages of time is the will to continue fighting it, destiny or otherwise.
6th May, 2012
Why doesn’t she understand? Why doesn’t anyone understand? There is a necessity in what I do! My work must be completed for the good of the nation! For the good of all of us. There are sacrifices that need to be made in the interest of progress. She of all people should be able to understand that. The risks, she says, are too great. Meddling with time can only lead to pain, and who knows what side effects there will be? She doesn’t understand that in the pursuit of power like this there are no risks palpable enough to be seriously considered. All is worth it and, much as it may pain me to do it, I cannot allow her to interfere. Not now.
* * * * *
He’s actually going to go through with this! Why won’t he listen to me? The risks are too great and, while success would lead to great things, he’s become so blinded by his own bravado that he won’t even consider the trade-off! Am I really worth that little to him? He won’t consider what will happen if he fails. Lost, forever in the strands of time; stuck in a permanent loop that he can’t escape from or even control! Who knows where he will end up? The slums of London during the great fire? Rome as it is sacked by the Visigoths? Constantinople while the Turks ravage it? The trenches of France during the First World War? A bleak world without life, where all humanity is extinct? Or worse? Nothing is worth that possibility, not even the prospect of gleaning knowledge into the Earth’s creation. Nothing. Knowledge is power, certainly, but there has to be a limit on both of them. He condemns my arguments, likening them to the typical “humans shouldn’t play God” line, and maybe he’s right. We have restrictions placed upon us for a reason. Maybe there’s a reason why we only use ten per cent of our brain power. The other ninety allow us to unmake the universe…
* * * * *
I think I may finally have stretched my temporality to its limits. I have achieved a state of control, but it is slipping through my fingers. I tried to make the jump at last, the ultimate jump back; all the way back, but when I tried, something went wrong. It was as if I was being wrenched from the inside out. The pain of the feedback was incredible, and my brain felt like it was running out of my ears, but worst of all, I saw the end. My end, and it’s worse than I could ever have imagined. Knowing the hour of one’s death is surprisingly humbling, and knowing that one never will die is even more so. I can kill time no longer. Time has killed me. I give in at last; it seems that she was right; the pros did not outweigh the cons. No degree of power is worth this. Nothing and everything is written in stone. Time is an illusion; and power over it even more so.
And do you know what annoys me the most? I never found out what MERLIN stood for…
9th August, 2021
My memories are clouded. The events of the next few weeks will be very confusing…
