The Synthetic Prophecy

The Synthetic Prophecy

by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

 

 

“Many years ago, I was blessed with a vision. Whether it was by an almighty being of the cosmos, my creator or whatever the sort was beyond me. It was a vision I discarded as being nothing more than just a mere dream. I was five or six…so I never took it as being a prophecy…or an event to come to pass. Most science fiction, dystopian, or post-apocalyptic stories have something similar. I chopped it up to being nothing more than an influence by something I had once seen on the television.

Then it came to pass…

One afternoon, I was traveling with my mother. We were running errands; the basic kind, you know. We had ventured to the local grocery store. As we had exited the vehicle and neared entering the establishment, the sirens began to sing…

People shrugged it off as another test of the Emergency Broadcast System. Then, inside the store, all the TV’s, all the monitors, all the cell phones, everything cried and warned with the coming end. An attack was made. The target? Our location along the West Coast. People ran. Panicked. Cried.

I looked up and saw them in the bright azure sky streaking towards us like rebel burning diamonds against the daylight. I felt my stomach sink. My hands had begun to sweat in my mother’s grasp.

A voice chanted, “Initiate Evacuation Protocol: Disembark. Repeat. Disembark.”

One by one, then dozens, thousands, millions…people dropped to the ground. I, myself watched as my body dropped to the ground. I looked over and saw my mother’s body drop limply upon the ground. Everyone flew up into the sky, a blue-white streak against the azure grain. We watched as the missiles struck the ground, the buildings, and reduced everything to a fiery crater. War had come. We were the first to be hit, and we certainly wouldn’t be the last.

We spiraled through the cosmos; flying by stars, buzzing by planets…Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, so far away from the sun, watching the Earth become a mere speck. Until then, we arrived. A new home. A new hope. Here.

We all awoke to our new mechanical bodies, synthesized humans. Robots. The Singularity may have saved us…or rather given us a way to escape death. However, back on Earth, many were trapped. Left to endure the war that took place. It is only a matter of time until it follows us here.”

The now young man appearing synthetic human opened his eyes and stood up before the crowd around him. “Surely, we could try to outrun our demise…or we can embrace a destiny where we fight back, survive. When they come—and they will, we will be waiting. We will return. We will reclaim our home planet. They will call us ‘alien’ but eventually, they will see…” He reached down and took up a foreign weapon. “We are more human than they are. We will save those left behind.”

The Scientist and The End of All Things

The Scientist and The End of All Things

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney

He sat in the chair for a while now. He hadn’t moved much since he was told the news. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t much of a surprise, so to speak. The nightmares had been increasing lately. The pain of loss was too real, and he didn’t—he couldn’t handle that now.

He was so close. So close to being able to correct the neurological damage that had been done to his daughter years ago, a taxing result from the car crash. The seizures were relentless and had been unforgiving. It wouldn’t matter now, though. Still, all he wanted…was to watch his little girl walk and to hear her tell him she loved him. Now? Now he felt he never would.

“Mr. Colley, I am afraid I need to have you clear the room. We are experiencing an abnormal increase in trauma situations and are in need of grievance rooms. I do apologize for asking,” said the male doctor.

Mr. Colley nodded and sighed heavily, running his fingers through his black hair. He sniffled and wiped his eyes occasionally. It still hurt.

“You’ll want to get her affairs in order. It…it won’t be long now,” the doctor said sympathetically.

The doctor’s words cut him to his very soul, and such, as he walked out into the hallway, he collapsed onto the ice cold tile. Hospital personnel and people rushed around him. He felt alone. So alone in the eye of the hurricane.

“You need to get a grip, John. You need to be strong. Not for you, but for them. So what if they said she’ll die soon. If it were you, what would you do?”

I’d go out swinging. I wouldn’t roll over and go quietly to my grave. 

”Then find your balls, John. Dig deep and find your fucking balls, get up, and get back to the lab. Finish it. Who cares anymore?”

You’re right.

John got up off the floor and with purpose, left the hospital in haste.

John worked tirelessly in his lab. He had phoned his wife, letting her know of his sudden departure from the hospital.

He had a purpose. He needed to be vigilant. He knew no one else would exactly understand. His methods were unorthodox; a controversy in the States. Stem Cells. These, though, were engineered through biological manipulation and engineered with nanomachines to help speed up the brain’s recovery; and accelerate the development of new healthy cells. They repaired damaged tissues, reconstruct damaged nerves. A dream made a reality.

No testing had been done though. At least, not in humans.

John gathered up the syringes and made his way back to the hospital. His daughter would be administered the doses at the safety of the hospital. Just in case. After all, he had signed all the waivers and disclaimers.

“There’s a high probability that this won’t work, John,” warned the woman doctor.

“At least I’m giving her a fighting chance,” snapped John.

The doctor sighed. “Sometimes it’s better just to let go.”

“Not yet. Not until she’s old and had a chance to live.” John replied sternly.

“What about those that die young? What of them?”

John’s eyes were fixated with purpose as he administered the first dosage. “They were not in my hands. I cannot fight for everyone.”

After several weeks, the administering of the treatment was a success. The Occupational and Physical Therapists and her parents watched her walk on her own. Cognitive function dramatically improved. She had become much more independent and self-sufficient. John was beside himself.

The world and the universe, though, saw otherwise. War was on the horizon. Tensions were rising and meeting an unthinkable end was beginning to become more of a reality. No peaceful resolution could be reached. No side could give way to diplomacy. Civil war would begin to break out. A revolution would begin. The people had had enough.

As John watched the news with his family he knew the end would come, sooner or later. That, even in the marvel of science, he had only prolonged time.

Borrowed time…

John worked tirelessly in the nights. He had fancied quantum physics, space and time for a long time. He had an idea. It might prolong the inevitable but at least, at least he could spend whatever time that this device, this idea could grant.

Time stop isolation. At first, he thought just to his home. Then he thought his town. Then he decided the world. If it as all going to go to hell, he’d at least let some of the other families have extra moments.

On the Day of the End, John gathered his wife and children.

“I love you,” he told them all and hugged them tightly.

“I love you, daddy,” his kids told him.

He cried tears of joy. Ever since having heard the words for the first time from his oldest. He never wanted to take them for granted, let alone be her last. She had made so much progress. So much to live for. Now, now it was the end of all things, all things humankind.

The bombs were fired, dropped, set to explode. John pushed the little red button, initiating the time stasis field all over Earth.

The bombs never went off. Time and the Earth stood still.

Eventually, the universe had begun to collapse. A long passage of time went by. The ultimate end came and went in the blink of an eye. A beautiful and merciful death of humankind in the light of a glorious dawn. The contagion, contained and isolated, just like he wanted.

The End

Excerpt From a WIP [Work in Progress] Piece of Mine.

What follows is a small excerpt from my epic dystopian novel (that is still a WIP). It is a rather large novel, one that will most likely be broken up into parts (while a super mega ultra rare edition will be. . .all parts in one.).

OK, here’s a hint at how massive it is right now. 600+ pages and I have 20 or so pages of outline. It’s in its raw form; unedited, not revised. Just. Raw. *boom*

Anyway, this particular addition is something I came up with the other day and as such, it has found a place within the novel, which serves as a sort of backdrop. A society that is controlled via nanomachines. Where the rich live in biodomes and the poor in slums or radioactive wastelands. Where lies and fear are spread continuously to help control the weak.

It’s up to a group of rebels to take on the organization that overthrew the world’s governments from their original rule and to free the people whose minds have been warped. Can they rebuild society, though? Can they remake the Earth? Or is it all just a fantasy?

It’s Hell on Earth. Here. Now.


Malthus turned his attention back to the computer monitor. His eyes tired from staring at the screen of variables and formulas for so long. Hours upon hours. The calculation was everything—it meant. . .everything.

They have to be exact. Precise.

He felt a vibration in his pocket. Another disturbance. There was no time for more of those.

The computer screen went black. Anger set in. A mighty fist hammered the keyboard.

Malthus sighed heavily. The generator probably finally went.

Then, on the screen there appeared a ghastly man, an old friend and lab partner of his. “Malthus,”

“You—you? It can’t be.”

The man spoke again. This time, his tone more melancholic. “This is a pre-recorded message. I pray when you receive this, you know what to do. Play it. Share it. It is time.”

The man cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“My friends, I have a confession I would like to share with you.”

“You see, I cannot contribute to society anymore; for what it stands for, the people that are placed upon such high pedestals, that will send us to our certain doom. What I can do is call for us to rebel.”

His eyes opened; an inferno raged within them. “Rebel, friends.”

“Let us lead each other into unity and overthrow the corruption that is now. Let us purge this idyllic idiocy that casts its horrible shadow of death and our demise.”

The man’s voice grew louder, almost shouting. “Rise up.”

“Rise up from your decrepit chair of lives lost. Shed the shackles of debt and control. Rip off the blindfold of lies and deceit. Remove the earplugs that kept the truth from ringing in your ears!”

“Be free,” he shouted.

The fire in the man’s spirit raged on, behind his words, and in his voice. “See your brothers and sisters; for we all are of one race. Cast aside the labels: of prejudice, race, religion, sex, and profession. Let the truth ring; let it resound throughout the land! We will not be slaves! We will never be subjective subjects to a corrupt and unruly society and government!”

“We must be fleet-footed, truthful and just. For our enemies are numerous and vast. We must make examples of those responsible.”

His tone changed to a cautionary tale. “Be wary, friends, for there are brothers and sisters who are oppressed and fear for their families and loved ones. We must protect them, our neighbors, the sick, the poor, and our children.”

The man took in another deep breath, while a tear ran down his cheek. “Let our voices carry truth. Let our final cry be heard! Let the world know, we are no longer dumb, deaf or blind to the corruption that plagues us! And we shall strike down those that oppose the will of the People.”

“Enough!” said a stranger in the video recording. “He’s said enough. Now, make an example of what we do. . .to traitors.”

The defiant man breathed heavily. His spirit raged on. “We are the beacons in the dark! We are the Torch Bearers!”

A gunshot resounded and the man still sat up. Focused. Fixated.

The man shouted at the top of his lungs, “WE WILL NOT BE CONTROLLED!”

Gunfire erupted on the scene, and then the man, along with whoever was present were engulfed in flames.

Malthus stared at the screen and stopped the recording. He grinned to himself. “My friend, you did it. You really did it.”


I hope you enjoyed that small piece and that you potentially, look forward to the final product. . .when it gets done. Hoo!

More to come and all that fun stuff. Right now? Dinner! I gotta make this BBQ pulled chicken. 😉

Until next time.

RJM

A Poem/Tie-in and Post: The Prelude

When I did my other little ditty about “Time,” I had another spur of the moment kind of thing that led me to do the following piece.

This one, I felt I would include in my third or fourth book of The Lodestone Files: Among Us: Contact, Assimilation, Control, Extermination series.

Those moments I find enjoyable; random spurts of creativity, and one where I am not at war with my mind in focusing on something (like that sweet, sweet sleep) and being restless until I have to be up 20 min before my alarm goes off. Of course, now that I mention that, I probably will be tossing and turning and God knows what else.

In any case, it’s a visit to my therapist in the AM, where I will divulge my last few weeks of ups, downs, and everything in-between. So needless to say, I am looking forward to that shut eye, unloading of what’s gone on, and what the time until the next session will be.

On the plus side, I am going to go to sleep with Mile High by Morphine playing and that’s pretty good. Ah. Love it. When I need a good wind-down time song, chillax, or be me. . .pop on some Morphine and let the music weave its way in.

I digress, though.

If you’re interested in the first book of the series, download it on Amazon (free in most areas; if it’s not free in your area, let me know! I’ll get you a PDF copy. You can also opt-in with your email, here.


The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows: Among Us: Contact, Assimilation, Control, Extermination Book 1)


If you’ve already done Book One, we’ll I have number two done and readily available. If you opt-in via email, I will send you a PDF copy of that too.

Well, that’s about it. I’ll be catching some Zs and stuff. More to come tomorrow and all that jazz.

Until then,

RJM


The Prelude

by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

The time is almost here,
A time we should all fear.

The time is almost here,
A time we should fear.

The time is here,
We should fear.

The time to fear,
Is almost here.

It’s almost here,
We should fear.

What it could become.
They

Who
It

Them
Things

Who are you?
Who am I?
When?

It’s near,
We fear.

Near
Here

Fear
Near

It’s already here.
They’re near.

All there is, all that remains. . .
is fear

This text was hastily written on what remains of a wall in a dilapidated apartment building. A crumpled skeleton lays on the ground nearby. Perhaps, the remains of the author or another unsuspecting victim.

The prediction of the alien’s invasion so many years ago.


Cover image for The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

What Would You Say to…Free?

Cover image for The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

They lurk in the shadows. They could be anyone…or anything.

Hello, everyone.

The ebook version of the novelette The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows has been released for free on Smashwords, iBooks, and Amazon.

You can download it here and choose your format.

Alternatively, you can click “here” for listing formats below.
Click here for .PDF
Click here for .doc
Click here for .txt
Click here for .epub
Click here for .mobi

For iBook users, click here.

For Amazon users, click here.


Description:

Idris Sinclair lives a rather typical life; helping his family run their cherished diner. However, all the normalness he knows in life is about to go straight out the window when he happens to break into an abandoned van in the restaurant’s parking lot. He discovers a small weapon’s stockpile and various files, involving affairs foreign to him.

As night begins to set in, the family is involved in one of our government’s most heinous and dastardly secrets involving entities, not of this world.

It walks among us. It could be anyone—or anything. Suspect everyone you know, or you pass on the street. There is nowhere where you are safe. Run all you want; it will only make you taste more delicious to it.

It’s too late. It already knows where you are.

It’s. Here.


 

I hope you enjoy the story. There will be a continuation of this story. Don’t worry. 😉

Look for Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle coming soon.

RJM

[Free Ebook] The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows

Cover image for The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

They lurk in the shadows. They could be anyone…or anything.

Hello, everyone.

The ebook version of the novelette The Lodestone Files: The Things in the Shadows has been released for free on Smashwords, iBooks, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.

You can download it here and choose your format.

Alternatively, you can click “here” for listing formats below.
Click here for .PDF
Click here for .doc
Click here for .txt
Click here for .epub
Click here for .mobi

For iBook users, click here.

For Amazon users, click here.

For Barnes and Noble, click here.

I hope you enjoy the story. There will be a continuation of this series.

Look for Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle coming soon.

RJM