Striking Back at Boredom

Tangled String. Chapter 1.

2007-04-09T18:32:00.000-02:30

I awoke to the previous night. The usual, groaning comfort of returning from oblivion was a memory. I didn’t stretch, or exhale in the long, sleepy fashion I was accustomed to. I simply opened my eyes and with a short flooding of realization, began turning the events of the evening over again in my mind. It was completely involuntary; not some memory of a movie or a piece of literature I loved – or hated for that matter – I’d replay in my head on long bus rides. My brain, still in a stun, just started reiterating and I got to see all it again, pausing and rewinding to hear her say those words; to feel them cut into me a second time. A third. For all I knew I’d been playing it back all night. I never remember my dreams.

My alarm clock went off startling me, however briefly, out of my thoughts. I didn’t look at it. I knew it said 7:00, and I knew I was going to wake up a few short-lived minutes before its nauseating beeps invaded my bedroom. I slammed the off button without turning, deafening the room again and for the first time that day looked at the sky through the window to see a grey, wet blanket of clouds blocking out the sun. Figures.

I think I attempted to swear something. Some curse against the weather, and my job, and the uncomfortable lump of blankets under my back, and God for that matter. I wanted the cosmos to know how pissed off I was at them. Some tiny noise – far from a word – escaped my mouth as I rolled over finally, in defeat. It sufficed right now. All I could muster. I stared at the wall a little longer, pushing off the inevitable: the slow, cold walk to the shower in my underwear; the coffee and whatever bread product I felt I could suffer down this particular morning, and the 9 hours I would spend at work today answering phones.

It was a low point. One of those mornings where the foreknowledge of what’s expected of you, a glimpse at the scope and scale of how insignificant you are versus everything you’ve set as goals for yourself threatens to end you. When it seems too impossible to even get out of bed; too big for one person in a single life time. And all the while I was painfully, mind-numbingly aware of how alone I was in this bed for the first time in years. My back was cold, no one was pressing against it, and the only breathing I could hear was my own, barely up to the task.

I didn’t want to be awake. Apart from how mentally exhausted I was, my body ached completely. I felt sick, disgusted, intensely angry, and ready to cry. I was the stump of a severed limb, hours after the initial shock, nerves waking to feel the horror for the first time. I wanted to scream in agony and want. But more than anything right now I wanted escape. I glanced at the clock again - 7:06 – and then curled deeper into the blankets and closed my eyes. To hell with work, to hell with calling in sick, to hell to moving at all. I figured sleep would push the emotion away, get my brain off the topic. If it didn’t? Whatever, I never remember my dreams.

I started drifting. I thought about her name. Erykah. I loved that it was her real name, the real spelling. I loved her parents for that matter, not just for naming her, for everything about them. They effortlessly maintained a zest for everything in their lives that I’d seen from no one else. I thought about the ring of Mayan hieroglyphics that was tattooed around her wrist to look like a bracelet, and how it hurt that after years I still couldn’t really tell you what it meant. Something about harmony and unity. I pieced it together from memory and some webpage, never wanting to ask her about it. I don’t know why, it was stupid. I thought about the rest of her body. And I thought about a few other things I care not to mention to you louts.

I may have dosed off for a few seconds before my whole body twitched violently and a jet of adrenaline pierced my blood stream. Some horrible thumping noise shook me viciously from sleep and I sat upright staring wide-eyed around the room. It was close to my head whatever it was, my first, frantic thoughts being images of some small, wild animal having crept into my room silently at night somehow, only to lie dormant and scare the shit out of me in the early morning. I was close.

It didn’t take long for the smear of white and brown material on the outside of my window to become evident to me, however with my heart still beating from the rapid return to consciousness it was a while before I could encompass what it was. I think I had an idea right away of course; it just seemed implausible that such a deafening thud could have been produced by this impact. It was when the first runny strands of the material had crept down the exterior of the glass to settle in the window frame that I finally managed to utter aloud to the empty room,

“Is that honestly bird shit?”

I’ll admit it got me thinking. The angry, “Screw you, world!” kind of thoughts you get at that hour. I was thinking about the chances of it happening. How, judging by the sound that piece of shit made, the bird must have been hundreds of feet in the air, making my tiny vertical pane of glass a very impressive bull’s-eye. It even got me thinking about the bird itself, carrying on with its eating, and shitting lifestyle, oblivious to me huddled beneath him in my covers feeling sorry for myself. It was comforting, that life as a whole was moving on without me. Maybe my boss would overlook my absence at the call center today entirely.

I started to slump back into my pillow but before I could fully formulate the notion the horrendous beep of my alarm sounded, shaking my fragile, early morning frame once again. I’d pressed snooze by accident. 7:09. Some distant corner of my brain, far removed from my troubles was laughing at me sitting there, naked I now realized, staring stupidly at the covers, unable to handle the small dose of excitement the day was already throwing at me. I looked at the bird shit again and almost laughed myself. Almost

Instead I threw the covers off, wrapped a towel around my waste and started my slow haul to the shower. As I passed, the bearded one was staring at me from his cross by the door. I shook my head and threw him a salute. It was getting harder and harder for me to believe that anybody, even a supreme being was making this shit up.

So I was thinkin ...

2006-03-17T02:54:00.000-03:30

It’s logical to conclude that the question of whether or not some form of god exists in our universe is binary. Yes or no. Either a god exists and created the cosmos and everything in it, or there was no guidance involved in the creation of it or the maintaining of it. The idea of no god can be summed up into one word.

Chaos.

Here’s what Wikipedia said about chaos:

Chaos derives from the Greek Χάος and typically refers to unpredictability. In the metaphysical sense, it is the opposite of law and order: unrestrictive, both creative and destructive.

The opposite of law and order. Meaning there was no particular plan or directive that got the universe to where it is now. If that’s truly the case, then how could we exist in a universe with so many laws? Gravity, acceleration, velocity, there are so many universal constants in physics and chemistry that exist supposedly because of chaos.
I dunno. It just doesn’t add up to me. I keep reading that all scientists are atheists, but for some reason the more I learn about science the more the universe seems like some sort of hierarchy to me; like someones in control.

I mean, doesn’t that make sense?

i sit i stare i sit i stare i sit i stare

2006-02-11T13:12:00.000-03:30

Thought of the Day: "..."

It's a boring day. Deciding to write this post came to me only after the 10 or 15 silent minutes I just spent looking at my desktop toning out and wondering what to do next. The sad part is that I don't have a great deal to talk about, meaning this post will be short, and so too will be the distraction it provides to myself and eventually to you fine people. Here's one interesting thing I read:

Around a million, billion neutrinos from the Sun will pass through your body while you read this sentence. ...and now they are already past the Moon.

Wow. I'm not even sure what a neutrino is, but they sure are fast ... and small.

On an unrelated note, theres water inside the paint on our wall, but not inside the wall, so as to create a bubbling effect with the paint. It's a strange thing to see, the paint started to sag, or run down the wall as a single unit, like that gross skin cold gravy gets when you move it around with a spoon. I wish I had a camera to take a picture of it for you. It's really something.

The sad part is it means my landlord has to come over and look at it, and stand around asking me questions, and then probably come back and plaster it. I hope he hires some untalkative worker to do it, and doesn't do it himself. I don't think I could take a few days of him hanging around our apartment next to the bathroom.

It's snowy though, so he might not come over. He's old. Doesn't like bad weather.

On the bright side, I was just contacted by Shaggy who's going down town, so I'ma hop on that bandwagon in an hour or two. Until then I'ma go write. Cheers.

Management

Bioblogical Waste

2006-02-07T19:03:00.000-03:30

Thought of the Day: I'm glad they stopped producing those "flick your bic" lighters with the gay patterns and shit on them. I hope Bic fired whoever came up with that idea.

Updates Updates...
Since October the only blogy thing I've done was post that silly quiz thing. That's a shame because blogs should be kept active. So here I go.

Well school's pretty fun this term. I've opted to fuck computer science royally in the ass and pick up Earth Sciences in its stead. I'm having a good time learning the material, even though my physics course is a bit over the head of someone as mathematically challenged as I. I'll mull through it. In fact I had my first test in it today which I suspect I did moderately well in. So that's hot.

I had a discussion with Angela earlier about Deja Vu. Because I've had a few fairly recently and for some time I've had a sneaking suspicion that I know where the "already happened" feeling for me is coming from. At the risk of sounding like a loon... They're coming from dreams. Or, at least I think they are. That's partly why I did some research; to see if I'm going crazy. What I found out is that apart from some meager attempts by the french a few centuries ago (who apparently coined the phrase deja vu by the way) there hasn't really been a large basis for studying the occurance in a lab because of it's vague or elusive nature. The phenomenon isn't exactly frequent and even if it were, there's no real way to measure the effects of it.

The specific kind of Deja Vu (there's 3 types) that I'm talking about is more specifically called Deja Vecu (already experienced or lived through). And nearly one third of people admit to having the experience at some point in their lives. The experience is like not only having seen something before, or hearing it, but living it. You sense that you've lived the same moment twice, feeling all emotions you felt, thinking all the same things you thought, everything.

Some people believe theres some manor of psychic thing goin on there. No one really knows. But there are two other ideas that could be logical explainations. The first links to a study of memory wherein exists a theory that one of the tools the brain uses for recognizing a memory is speed. If a brain can very quickly encompass a scene or combination of stimuli it usually means it has done so before. So in odd cases where through some freak occurance, a person recieves a visual signal unusually quickly, the brain may unconsciously take it as something familiar.

The other theory I came across (much more poorly explained, I might add) was a concept linking deja vu to the improper firing of synapses in the brain. Two things the page mentioned were that scientists have found you can bring about deja vu by electronically stimulating different parts of the brain, and that many patients with temporal lobe epilepsy experience deja vu just before going into seizures.

The second one struck me because epilepsy is sorta in my family. I was wondering if that third of the population who experience deja vu have the potential to become full-blown epileptics. It was pretty interesting in any case, if a bit disappointing. I thought maybe we were all becoming psychics. :)

Too bad.

Who I am in 42 questions or less.

2006-01-13T02:30:00.001-03:30

Hey. I was reading Terry's blog and he had a link there for this silly quiz. 42 questions and it tells you what your university major should be. So I did it. Here's the results:

You scored as Philosophy. You should be a Philosophy major! Like the Philosopher, you are contemplative and you enjoy thinking about the purpose for humanity's existence.

Philosophy

100%

Chemistry

92%

Engineering

83%

Biology

83%

Mathematics

75%

English

75%

Journalism

75%

Sociology

75%

Theater

67%

Linguistics

58%

Art

58%

Anthropology

42%

Psychology

33%

Dance

25%

Take Dat Test
created with QuizFarm.com

I'll admit I was skeptical. But that's not bad. I found it interesting that the number 1 position was taken by philosophy, and is then followed by 4 sciency-mathy deals. I think all scientific minds are just philosophers at heart. It's the same thing really; just a search for answers. Ed Greenwood once wrote "Know something of everything and everything of something." Life's too short to devote your time to one cause. But thats enough sagely advice, it's rounding 3 am and my brain already shut down a few minutes ago. My body is off to persue. Night.

Oh PS, I watched "Igby Goes Down" again tonight. The second time you watch it you learn a lot more. Thats a great film. Pick it up.

A Time for Enlightenment

2005-10-27T04:35:00.000-02:30

Hey yall. I was in a computer lab earlier today and I was writing a big post about my life and all that, and the window fagged up and I lost the whole bloody thing. One of the things I covered in it was the fact that since my last post I've spent about 7 minutes in front of a word document typing anything other than essays or assignments. So I can't seem to get any writing done. Well I just finished writing my final essay for Computer Science 2760, its 4:38 in the morning and I've decided to post my essay here. If not super well written, its an interesting glimpse at the future of computing and I think that anyone with an interest in science or computers should read it. If you don't fall into that category, you're probably reading the wrong blog. So without further delay, I give you:

Quantum Computing: A Glimpse at Tomorrow

On April 19th 1965 Gordon Moore, a co-founder of Intel stated to an interviewer from Electronics Magazine, what would later be titled - by CalTech professor Carver Mead - Moore’s Law. It was a projection of computing technology into the future based on the trends of technology at that time. The law states that the complexity for minimum component costs increases at a rate of roughly a factor of two per year. The law largely holds true even today as we see the effect of microchips on computing power. If we are to assume that the law will hold true for even the near future, then it seems only a matter of time before transistors can exist on an atomic scale.

The concept of Quantum Computing has existed since the 1920’s, but only recently has mankind begun to experiment with atomic scale matter manipulation and conceptualize using atoms to hold data or make calculations. The original idea is based on principles from quantum physics called Quantum Superposition and Quantum Entanglement.

Superposition in the context of atoms and subatomic particles is a name given to the behaviour of these particles holding two or more eigenstates as representatives of observable characteristics. The combination of two or more eigenstates in one quantity is the basic concept behind the application of superposition to quantum mechanics. The projection for this phenomenon states that when measured, the state will quite randomly collapse into one of the values in the superposition and immediately afterwards assume the original multi-value.

One such atom or subatomic particle could essentially act as a computer bit under the right circumstances. Standard computers of today create thousands of bits a second however once created; they exist as either a 1 or a 0 until they are deleted or lost. In a quantum computer each created quantum bit or qubit is a permanent addition to the processor and exist as both a 1 and a 0 simultaneously (or in a superposition) until the instant they are measured. In that instant, the values collapse into a 1 or 0, and then immediately retain both values simultaneously again.

With bits created, it’s now a matter of transferring data between them. This is where quantum entanglement comes in. The second – and much less understood - phenomenon is the characteristic of atoms if prepared in such a way, to form wave functions that become a combined system. This essentially intertwines the fates of both bits. So if two atoms (or for our purposes, qubits) exist in a superposition, and both qubits are entangled, when some value of one qubit (eg: the energy or polarity) is measured and the qubit’s values collapse into one value, the superposition of the entangled qubit will instantly collapse into the same value. This will occur at precisely the same instant in time regardless of the physical distance between qubits, be them a few inches apart or at opposite ends of the known universe.

As earlier stated the reasons behind the latter principle are widely unknown. Einstein himself had difficulty with the topic, later referring to entanglement as a “spooky relation at a distance.” But despite reasons for this occurrence, scientists have been experimenting with methods of artificially recreating the natural phenomenon for our own purposes for years now. The results are promising and lead to the possibility of developing computing devices with parallel processing capabilities far beyond any devices in development today.

Obviously, personal quantum computers are most likely decades away, however the implications these machines have for society on all levels are both fantastic and exciting, yet quite literally frightening.

Most of today’s technology is based on principles (or for our purposes, limitations) of computers that have been around since the first calculators. Any contemporary computer based on Von Neumann architecture does calculations in a sequential manner so regardless of how fast engineers make them; a problem with enough calculations can easily stump a machine of today. The purest example of this is the idea of factoring an extremely large number. But I will explain this example further in a moment.

The important thing to remember is that universal truths of computing are evaporating. Principles that have existed as a part of all computers for the better part of a century will have no bearing after the implementation of tomorrow’s machines.

For the purposes of this paper, we will examine the effects that this new technology will have on two levels of society. Firstly, we’ll see the ramifications for society as a whole, and afterwards decide on the most likely and most obvious effects the technology will have on the individual, acting as a member of society. After that (if there’s time) we will try to decide on a definite standpoint in either supporting the development of quantum computers, or opposing it.

From the standpoint of our civilization as a whole, the addition of quantum computing to our lives will usher in a period of drastic change. The flow of information along with our ability to understand science will be redefined, much as it was with the invention of the printing press, or the World Wide Web.

With nearly infinite computing power, huge tasks for today’s computers will become child’s play. The monumental amount of information held in the human genome is currently being decoded and mapped. This process by conventional methods could take several decades. The completion of a functioning quantum computation device before this time would mean the procedure could be completed in weeks or even days. In fact the as of now, widely unknown properties of a theoretical quantum computer could potentially hash through vast amounts of calculations such as the human genome project, or the mapping of the stars in our galaxy in a matter of hours, minutes, or even seconds. The monotonous process of cataloguing the celestial bodies of our galaxy could easily, with the proper computing power be an automated process. An orbital satellite could potentially be programmed to take digital snapshots of sections of sky, map the stars to coordinates on each image, triangulate each star’s distance from the sun, classify it based on color, size, local star clusters, etc and finally store the image, and information to a database. After that it would be a simple matter of teaching the machine the universal naming scheme for astronomy.

Code breaking potential is the attribute most directly responsible for the worldwide interest in developing quantum computers. Contemporary data encoding on transferred information such as satellite signals, bank transactions, coordinates to secret government UFO research facilities (and other fun places), all operate based on the limits of today’s computing power. Going back to the factoring example, if a machine were to try and decrypt one of the “unbreakable” codes of today, it would most likely run into an operation such as factoring a number with about 400 digits. Theoretically speaking, it could be done by a standard computer, but it would take billions of years for it to complete the task (hardware doesn't last that long). Being that a qubit can collapse from superposition to a single value in literally no time, its parallel calculation potential lends itself to the idea that these encodings could be hashed through in a matter of hours.

If the ability to hack any ATM, satellite system, or other heavily encrypted network, was suddenly available to the world, there would be quite probably a period of upheaval. The introduction of quantum computers undoubtedly will usher in a new form of encoding that will use a system of truly random numbers instead of a system as primitive as difficult mathematics. This will make for certainly unbreakable encryption. The transition to this encryption will be slow however, without the implementation of some sort of communications technology that allows all forms of digital media to directly interact (Like in AntiTrust starring Ryan Phillipe and Tim Robbins). During this period between phases, any one person with access to a quantum computer could essentially have control over the communications network of the entire planet.

The most potentially race altering change quantum computers could have on society is the ability it would give us - if humans are mentally matured enough - to explore the utopian governing idea of a world senate, or perhaps direct democracy. In today’s society even if we consider ourselves mentally capable of making this system work, there are physical boundaries stopping us from achieving it. The technology to collect and tally the votes of a nation, or a world full of people simply does not exist, and building it today is not economically feasible. However, the ability of qubits to transfer data between themselves at an instant speed, will mean that not only will quantum computers have incredible computing power by themselves, but will be able to act together as a single unit, largely unaffected by the distance between them. Even before personal quantum computers that people will be able to use for voting purposes at any point in time, anywhere in the world, governments could easily set up cheap computing devices everywhere in much the same way voting booths are set up today. This setup would pave the way for a possible system of government in which no one person or group of persons is elected to make decisions for the whole of society. A system could exist in which the whole of society could make individual decisions concerning its own governance in the form of votes from every member of the whole. A society could exist in which any one member is equally active in the law making, development, goals, and maintenance as any other. It could easily be argued that humans are not mentally ready for this system nor will they be ready in the near future yet the simple fact remains that even if this is true, the physical restriction that is hindering us could no longer exist, leaving the option open for tomorrow’s brighter children.

Another exciting possibility of quantum computing is the ability it would give us to manufacture microscopic machines and control a multitude of them at once. “Nanobots” are a big issue among doctors, engineers, and computer scientists even today. And to an extent humans have succeeded in developing primitive and too-large prototypes of tomorrow’s nanoms. Though transistors and processing chips are minuscule in size by today’s standards, they are still too big to allow the production of truly infinitesimal computers. Apart from that, all implications for nanobots are based on their ability to act as one in completing goals. Controlling so many machines, giving each a unique order, and then processing the output, would be a taxing procedure for an IBM PC. The future could unlock the ability to inject human tissue with machines to kill viruses and harmful bacteria, speed blood clotting in open wounds, lay dormant in blood streams ready to administer electric shock in the event of heart failure, or even enhance the ability of blood cells, muscle tissue, brain activity, or any sensory perception.

Apart from playing a part in the course humanity takes, the individual member of our hypothetical society would undergo a somewhat slow exposure to quantum computers. Like any technology that potentially threatens the defence of a nation, the government would control quantum computers for the early years of their development. The public of course would have access to the medical treatment quantum computers would unlock, such as the advancements in gene manipulation, or access to nanobots already discussed. However average people would not have unlimited access to quantum computers until either the government could set what it deemed as the safe borders of use for the technology, or society as a whole took it upon itself to govern the technology and use it for it’s own intentions (again, it can be argued that human beings are nowhere near mentally capable of acting as a whole yet).

As I said earlier, the spooky relation between atoms, (or for our purposes, the qubits of a quantum computing device) exists despite the proximity of the atoms to each other. Because of this, the individual will begin to notice the advances to technology in much the same way humans today are seeing the advances to worldwide communications, but at a far greater rate and on a much grander scale. The internet, if it exists under the same name by then, will not be composed of the millions of electricity reorganizers it is now, but as a series of infinite atoms speaking to each other across great distances, and all data is transferred in blinks of time incomparable to today’s transfer rates. From that point, the obvious choice for betterment is the centralizing of all media types into one universal signal that would send sound, video streams, and terabytes of any other data to terminals located literally anywhere.

With genome and brain mapping now nearly if not fully complete, and the potential to take the concept of neural nets (that even today are quickly becoming superior to the human mind) and develop thinking nets the size of large molecules, the possibility of not only nano-augmentation of body tissue, but of synthetic brain implants can become a reality. When individual nodes of a neural net can exist at such sizes, it would be quite feasible to attach nets to parts of the brain where memories are stored, motor functions controlled, and cognitive thinking controlled. This implementation (albeit even further into the future than quantum computers themselves) leads to the idea of artificially raising the potential of all human minds to the genius level or beyond. Of course, this brings us into the realm of philosophy, in which we have to examine exactly what it is that makes us human. Much like body piercing, or tattoos today, members of society will go overboard with the manipulations they make to their own bodies as new procedures and manipulations become available to the public over time. The question we will need to begin asking ourselves is when a person becomes more machine than flesh, can he or she still be considered a human?

Without a doubt there are many aspects of the coming technology that seem malicious. There are questionable uses for an abundance of computing power like humans have never before imagined, but I think the relevant question is “How is that different than any other powerful technology?” Even as I sit writing this essay there are thousands of people dying from any number of diseases. There are people like George W. Bush in charge of powerful nations in the world, making war mongering decisions that will negatively effect us all in a big way. And worst of all, there are bottle necks all over the internet hindering the flow of downloaded media to my hard drive. I think that with any big change in society there is risk, and the decision must be based on whether the good outweighs the bad. I believe in this case it does. In an extreme case, the economic collapse of countries around the world would be worth the trade off of a cure for cancer, or diabetes. Money can be remade, reprinted. A human life is unique. I think the only logical conclusion to make is that, the reasons for or against trying to develop quantum computers are irrelevant.

When Einstein at last verified that it was within his power to create the atomic bomb, his first question to himself was “Should I?” To be realistic, humans of today no longer view science and technology with that same fearful respect. To be realistic, it was never a question of should we strive towards the creation of quantum computers, but simply a matter of when we would figure them out. Just as Einstein decided to make the A-Bomb before Japan, or Russia, or Germany could build one, humans will strive towards quantum computers if for no other reason than to do it before humans from an enemy country or rogue state can do it. Tomorrow’s events will in the end most likely come down to who develops the technology initially. People in general can prepare themselves and change their ways for the upcoming wonders, or dumbly play it out and change because of technology’s effects on us. In either case, it is simply a matter of time before we find out whether computing power will be the guiding force, prematurely saving humanity from its own mistakes, or simply another implement we can use for our own destruction.

* * *

Well there it is. I can't wait to see my prof's written reaction to the AntiTrust movie reference. In either case, I hope you enjoyed that. It is now 5:07 however and my head hurts. Good night comrades. On the morrow....

Nick

More updates on ... well ... me.

2005-09-21T15:42:00.000-02:30

Well here I am in St. John's for another term and all that. Been here a while but I haven't updated because it took Aliant forever to get my fuggin internet to work. I am, however now back in business, back in school and back to wondering why the hell I'm doing so. I'm actually sitting in my Computer Science 2710 (3 hour) lab on this fine, wednesday afternoon. I have the sections of the lab done that myself and my counterpart Smokey could mull through, but I gave up on the rest, resolving myself to peruse the topics revolving around arrays and string tokenizers the next time I see a JAVA FOR DUMMIES book.

Other than that and keeping in mind the fact that I hate the higher educations, things are going well. I'm doing an essay about Quantum Computation for my CS2760 (Encountering the Computer: Society and the Individual) course, which I'm doing fairly well with. Any of those among you who've had the ultimate pleasure of having a few beers or rockin da gange with me assuredly heard me rant on about quantum entanglement and the effect that using matter to do calculations for us will have on society. So sufficed to say I'm sorta in my element there.

Oooh, also, It's Pearl Jam concert weekend. The weekend I've been looking forward to since mid-summer. My gorgeous girlfriend and her sister Aleah (Who's being a bigger slack-ass than me in updating her blog.) are flying to town tomorrow to see it with me. PUMPED I am. My brother was also suppose to be coming to town to see it as well but he pussed out. (Yeah, you Terry.) Still no word on brother #2. But in either case it should be interesting.

Also, I'm back to working on Birth of a Defect, but as I said last time it's slow goin's. It's gotta be purrrfect. I will tell you that it's progressing rather nicely and I'm well over half-done my first draft. (I don't normally "do" drafts, which makes for low quality work, I know, so like I said, this ones gunna ROCK.)

Hrmm. I think that's about it right now. I doubt I'll get anything done over the weekend as there's gunna be many more important things to do. Well, more like 3 more important things, but they're very important and time consuming. So I'll touch home again with all ya fags again next week some time. Stay outta trouble, and if you're actually reading this, how the hell did you know to check back? I barely ever update this, and as of late my updates haven't been anything other than ramblings. Keep up the ESP.

Nick

A few things to address ...

2005-08-25T02:45:00.000-02:30

1) The new look. Hell, everyone else was doing it. I figured the place needed a face lift anyway. Who knows, it might actually get me in Blog mode again and cause me to write a few things ...

2) Speaking of which, I havn't completed The Birth of a Defect yet. If memory serves me correctly, that's the only outstanding project I currently have. You have my genuine apology for not having it completed, but Tacer's story is an important one for things to come and I have to tell it write (get it?). Also, I was suddenly inspired a while back to start in on another story that I'm currently working on. So the little time I've been putting into writing has been focused on that one. At the moment though I'm inflicted by a number of distrations. And that brings me to ...

3) I play way too many video games. I mean, I love the fucking things and I think it should be mandatory by law to devote some time from every day to electronic entertainment in one form or another. But I've been home for many a month now and (mainly) because of video games and beer I havn't really accomplished anything of note. (I cut myself really good a few days ago though, if that counts). So I've decided to cut back on them a bit. My current video game intake comes 100% from WoW and I'm sure that if you're able minded enough to find this blog then you've heard of that by now.

During the time after christmas when I was unemployed and sitting in this town, for about 5 months there was an ungodly amount of the game in my life. However, nowadays I've got it down to a few hours a day for the most part, and I think I'm better off for it.

I heard about this law in China, that they just introduced that only allows chinese citizens to play for 3-4 hour periods. After that they have to log off the game for at least 5 hours. See, getting gold in WoW is a pain in the ass. In fact, it can be such a pain in the ass that nerdy, well-to-do assholes in the U.S. will sometimes just buy the virtual game-world money from people in the real world, with real world currency, to cut down on the slow, laborious task of "farming" gold. Don't believe me? Try it. Go to Ebay.com and run a search for "Warcraft" and you'll get a bunch of returns for warcraft money at the going rate of about ten american cents per in-game gold point.

Now if you were a young, poor chinese lad or lass, wouldn't YOU want to take advantage of this entrepreneurial opportunity? There is an unsatisfied market for sucking american money from america, if you've got the correct mentality to sit and mine thorium ore and kill slimes and rock elementals for countless hours. So I guess, thinking about it from the perspective of one of these people (Who seem to have infinite patience), it's a good idea. At least, that's what I thought until I realized that THEY MADE A FUCKING LAW TO STOP CHINESE PEOPLE FROM PLAYING A VIDEO GAME SO MUCH. You know it's time to go for a walk or wash the damn car when the government says "Ya know, you've been spending an awful lot of time in front of that box, I think it's time I turned it off."

But, cheers to the short little bastards. They're my new guard rails, keeping me from tumbling back down the shaft of addiction. I just have to picture a 28 year old virgin with huge teeth, covered in computer sweat and stinking like 5 day old body odor, left clicking over and over, and I suddenly want to go for a jog. Hell, I even got a full post up here. What are the odds eh?

Step 2: Finish the damn story. Terry, I saw your well timed little comment there, I'm working on it. Oh, and on that note, posting pictures of your deck doesn't count as an update. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Right now however, It's 3:24 am and my eyes hurt.

I'll write. I promise.

Nick

Jon Stewart is the Greatest Man Alive!

2005-07-31T20:45:00.000-02:30

Hello everyone. 'Tis I again. I know I havn't posted anything since ... wow ... since February and on that note I do promise that I'm going to get back into the blogging business heavily, but right now I just wanted to share this little piece of literature with you. I didn't write it, actually I was taking a crap while reading this in Jon Stewart's latest book: America (The Book). This is the opening caption to Chapter 7: The Media: Democracy's Guardian Angel.

A free and independent press is essential to the health of a functioning democracy. It serves to inform the voting public on matters relevant to its well-being. Why they've stopped doing that is a mystery. I mean, 300 camera crews outside a courthouse to see what Kobe Bryant is wearing when the judge sets his hearing date, while false information used to send our country to war goes unchecked? What the fuck happened? These spineless cowards in the press have finally gone to far. They have violated a trust. "Was the president successful in convincing the country?" Who gives a shit? Why not tell us if what he said was true? And the excuses. My God, the excuses! "Hey, we just give the people what they want." "What can we do, this administration is secretive." "But the last season of Friends really is news." The unmitigated gall of these weak-willed ... You're supposed to be helping us, you indecent piles of shit! I ... fuck it. Just fuck it ...

Like I said, the man's a genious. Read this book because not only is it hilarious, it'll teach you a few things you should know.

Nick

Stanley Drive

2005-02-11T18:39:00.000-03:30

Another silver, summer’s moon had been shedding its hollow light on the world for hours now. It was well past midnight. A warm southern breeze tickled itself through lawn chairs and small maple trees of no natural placement as tacky lawn gnomes stared with empty, frozen eyes from flower gardens that ran the length of most of the houses on the street.

Stanley Drive was a typical street while the sun shone; a street full of children and the scraping sound of bicycle training wheels, but with the setting of the sun, so too did this sugar coating fail to reveal the life that is everywhere that all men see, but few explore; The life that’s left when the smell of freshly cut grass subsides and the burgundy minivan in every driveway, masked by shadow. It is then the silence surfaces.

Dale Gryan sat bare-chested on his porch exploring this life nervously. Hidden from view by the inky shadow of his roof’s overhang, he was revealed only by the occasional, cherry red glow from his cigarette.

Seconds went to minutes, which lead to hours, as Gryan sat and braved the silence that surrounded him. His eyes lazed about his face but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He had far too much to think about. Far too many unwanted thoughts eating at his self. These petty thoughts he hated, but despite himself, entertained every waking hour of his life. Those hours grew longer as time passed and the petty thoughts were his companion. But at least, he thought, at least they were taking his mind off the silence around him.

He crushed the butt of his fifth cigarette and sighed to break the quiet. He listened to the beat of his heart and closed his eyes, drifting through his mind for answers. Any answer at all.

His heartbeat filled his ears and bathed his mind in sound. He enjoyed the break in the silence. Utter silence, he thought was much louder and more piercing than any noise he could conceive. More terrifying. The beating of his heart, that light in his dark tunnel was all there was to break this. But something was wrong. He couldn’t tell what, but something was definitely wrong.

He shifted his thoughts to discover what that something was. He clenched his eyes tighter to ensure total blackness, focusing hard on his heart, and the noise it made. “What is it? What is it?” Thought after Thought.

It could have been a gunshot. It would have affected him no less. He heard a break in his heartbeat and the silence that stabbed at it; a break and a dull scraping noise.

Instinct screamed at him to open his eyes and a surge of emotion took hold of his brain - Confusion, bewilderment, panic - and he could do nothing but obey.

His eyes sprang open as if awakening from his worst nightmare, and with a ripple of gooseflesh over his warm bare chest in the summer’s air he found realization. It wasn’t the beating of his heart he’d been listening too. It was footsteps, and he wasn’t alone.

Frozen but for his wide eyes, red from exhaustion, he sat rigid and frantically searched his field of view for this intrusion. He waited an eternity for his eyes to focus from being held shut for so long and would have screamed at them to hurry had his mouth not gone dryer than his scorched, neglected front lawn.

Shadow after shadow he analyzed for movement. It was a dull clicking he now realized; the sound of expensive shoes on asphalt and it was getting closer. Thanking grace that he had thought to extinguish the glow of his cigarette, the only signal this masked intrusion had to his existence, perched on his raised porch, hidden from the silver light of the moon, he turned his head quickly, searching the street to his left and right. After a few agonizing seconds a figure appeared from around the curve of the street several houses up, walking slowly, nearly a careless stroll.

“Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.” Gryan mouthed silently, his near frantic gaze transfixed on the intruder. The man drew closer, and passed under a street light some twenty yards away. He was dressed completely in black, wearing a large overcoat that hung just past his knees. “Something’s wrong.” Gryan whispered so quietly. It was too warm for a coat, even this late at night. Gryan’s wide eyes saw the intruder pull something from one of the pockets of his over coat. He pulled it on over his head. It was a ski mask. “Devil … Devil.” he whispered.

The intruder casually strolled by, not 15 feet away and continued up the inclined driveway of the house just across the street. A rented moving trailer was still parked in the driveway. Gryan had noticed the family retrieving boxes and furniture from it for the better part of the day. He had watched them work together to lift the large pieces of their livelihood from the trailer, struggling until they disappeared into the front door of the house. That same door the intruder now stopped in front of.

The man hauled something else from a pocket – Gryan could not make it out this time – and hunched over slightly, working at the door in front of him. Eventually it slid silently open just enough for the man to squeeze inside and pull it nearly closed behind him.

“You’re the devil. Devil.” Gryan whispered as he began to shake quietly in the summer breeze. His mind screamed at him to do something; to warn someone; call someone; Anything his mind screamed. He sat and watched, holding his breath. A minute passed. Two minutes. And he saw a flash in an upstairs window. He thought he heard a muzzled shot. Did he? Another flash…. Yes a shot. He began to violently tremble. His mind froze with his body. He pleaded with his brain to stop showing him this scene. It was fake. It could not be real. The muzzled nose echoed in his ears. He begged for the silence to return.

It could not be real.

Another flash, in another window. He shuddered, thinking about the children in the day light, getting in the way as their parents struggled with heavy chairs and tables. His ragged breath caught in his throat and he began to weep. Another flash, accompanied by the terrible, muffled bang. He jumped, he shook. Another flash. Another. His mind screamed for the silence to surround him. He would never fear it again. It could not be real.

He sat trembling, tears streaking his face, the muffled sound reverberating in his mind as the minutes rolled on. He scarcely noticed the intruder slide out through the front door once more, closing it softly behind him. The sound of expensive shoes on asphalt began once more. And as they began to dim they were accompanied by the distant sound of whistling. A careless, strolling tune.

“The devil.” Gryan whispered, choking back his own tears. He sobbed slowly through the night, listening over and over to the sound of the flash in his ears, pleading to the night for the silence once more. It never came. And some time later, as he sat on his front porch, under his roof’s overhang, holding his knees to his chest crying, the sun slowly began to rise.

He sat, slowly pleading, “Silence…Silence…” until the sun had fully risen, banishing the shadows around him. And when the dew on his scorched, neglected front lawn had finally dried, and the world had come to life once again, he heard the sound of a minivan being started. He heard the wind rustle through the small maple trees around him. He heard the first scrape of a training wheel as it glided across the asphalt before him.

Once more, Gryan softly wept. He stared across Stanley Drive to the door in front of him and wept for those behind it. He hugged his knees harder to his chest and started to plead once more to the world around him.

“Silence…” he begged. “Silence…”

A Beginning: Part 2

2005-02-11T03:21:00.000-03:30

The room was full of healers, hooded in heavy brown robes with gold lacing in the front. All were busy reading from large tomes, making arcane gestures and muttering proposals to each other. He pushed his way through the group huddled around the bed and knelt next to it.

Lenowe was lying quietly with her eyes close. She was absolutely beautiful, even in her present state. With large sores covering her arms and legs and her face as pale white as a corpse. Her skin seemed to cling to her bones all over her body. She hadn’t been able to eat for the past week without vomiting and she had lost most of her body weight. Kneeling beside the bed Daniel squeezed her hand and smiled deeply as her eyes opened and found their way to his. She moved her free hand to the bulge on her stomach and sighed. She was well past 8 months.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get here..." Her voice was weak and fragile. But her smile was just as vibrant as ever. "...Is it dawn yet?”

“Just about. A fourth of an hour maybe.” He was slightly winded from his run, and a little shaken from the fright of the letter, but seeing her made it settle. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Kerlic. He was a brute of a man, a foot over Daniel at least, and twice his weight. He looked troubled. Turning back to his wife, he whispered into her ear, “I’ll be right back.” She smiled and faintly nodded her head. He kissed her forehead before rising.

Kerlic lead him outside the room to the hall, still empty of people. Florn looked up as they passed but said nothing. He stood when the healer said his name. “Florn, there you are. Fetch some ginger tea with rant extract.” The servant stayed only long enough to bow and was off. Just before he rounded the corner into the main hallway, which would eventually lead him to the kitchen, the healer took a step forward and called to him. “Oh, and bring me an incense kettle.” Florn made another quick bow and disappeared around the corner.

The healer nodded as if crossing things off a mental list and then turned to Daniel. “So, I imagine you read the note then.” Daniel looked to his hands but didn’t find the note. Just the goblet, empty now run his rapid dash down several hallways.
“Yes, I-I mean no, no I didn’t. I just ran here when I heard it was from you. What is the matter?”

Kearlic pulled back the hood of his robe and scratched his balding head. Daniel thought of him as his best friend. He was the smartest person he knew, and showed the most respect to him, even though Daniel never remembered the healer calling him by a proper title or bowing before talking to him. He reasoned it was the way the healer never explained things to him like he was a child, unlike nearly all his advisors and even a few of his servants. The respect you show to a king fades when the king dies. The respect you have for a friend is respect.

"My friend, that is just it. I have a band of healers sitting in the keeps library reading into strange illnesses. I have another, reviewing the scrolls from the high priests temple in Lerach, and one more with her right now as you can see, trying all manner of formula that thought provides them with. But I know not what has her in deaths grip."

Daniel turned around and stood there awkardly. He wondered what to do with his hands, what to do with his feet. He pressed the soft part of his palms to his temples and squeezed. The extra pressure felt good.

"So trapped. Kearlic please do not speak those words." He felt dizzy with all this, and his thoughts were strewn about too many episodes to be of help to him. He didn't want to say anything, or to admit to simple truth. But there were questions he had to ask and answers to be found. "Well then, to what end will it be? More importantly, when will this end come into being?" The dizziness was being replaced by nausea, and his face was becoming as pale as his wifes.

Kerlic didn't answer him, and Daniel turned to face him. "Please friend, tell me."

"Daniel, the ladys life blood is losing color, and her existence is weakening. liM is calling her, and the amount I could do for her would but prolonge the inevitable."

"When?"

"It is difficult to tell, mayhap within the hour. The setting of the sun will pass afterwards... assuredly. There has yet to be pain in her sickness, there is no reason to believe she will have it in death."

Daniel lowered his head and he caught himself laughing. He muttered the word "pain" just loud enough for the healer to hear and started mentally listing the types. "What kind of pain Kearlic? The physical entity of life that fades with existence, or the pain that is all that's left afterwards? Hanging like a pungent smell over death, inflicting sorrow on all touched. What will not be felt by my wife? What's more dangerous?"

"Daniel listen..."

"Mayhap later." Daniel's words were but a distant breath over his shoulder as he entered back into the room he had adapted as a care home for his wife. Those 8 months seemed like years now.

For a while he just stood near her bed and watched her chest rise and fall. For the thousandth time in his wedding he tried vainly to find words to express his love. He recalled the night his offspring was conceived. How he gave himself over to blind love, and his complete and utter bliss. He smiled and started to look off into deeper thought when Lenowe turned her head to him and he knelt near the bed. She smiled and a thin wisp of hair fell to her cheek. Daniel waited for her to push it back into place, and his heart ached when she didn't move. She was a perfectionist; she'd always push out of place hair back behind her ear, and in all the time he'd known her, this was the first he could remember that she didn't. He replaced it for her, and kissed her.

Daniel heard the clanking of a tray behind him, and turned to see Florn had returned with the supplies Kearlic had asked for. The healer took the tray from him and laid it on a small end table near the fire place.

"M'Lady, please sip a little of this, it will help relax the itching, and dull the headache." He handed a tiny silver cup to Daniel and motioned him to help his wife drink.

"Do not bother." She seemed almost happy to say it. A dozen heads stoped and looked at her to see what she meant.

"Lenowe, don't fool with us. Please take a sip, it will help you recover."

"Daniel my love, my life is spent, and my soul, forfeit to liM's goodness. Tea cannot bring me back from a destiny such as this. I can hear him calling me."

"What are you saying? This is nonsence, take the tea."

"I have lived a beautiful life, full of love and bounty. I have experienced every kind of love that the good liM has created and have been loved back in all situations. I have done things that I could never have imagined in earlier life, and my regrets are few. In all, I have but one." Her hand slid to her stomach again as she continued. "Tal, has yet to live, and I know not if the chance for life will be given before death. I can wish only the beauty of my life on our child, but I am weak now and likewise for my babe. If this sublime creation is destined to pass with me, then the sorrow I feel is tried, and placed instead as the hope of recompense and more it will recieve from liM in it's first life." She saw the tears welling in her husbinds eyes and her own surfaced.

"I can only hope, that the creation we will be in together some day will have words that I might use to express my love for you, wife."

"I pass now. Cast aside fear: This is not an end, but a change, and one for the better. We will be together again, all of us. In a better place than this." She paused for a moment and looked to a healer near the door. "Is it dawn yet?" He threw his hood back and looked towards the hall.

"Any minute now m'lady, the sun will show it's head any minute."

"Very well. Then it is time. Husbind, take hold my hand and kiss me farewell."
Daniel couldn't think to do anything but what she said. He wanted to comfort her. To tell her it was going to be alright. But it was she who was consoling him. He couldn't move, but to press his lips to hers in one last kiss. He tasted tears. Salty, and backed away to look to her. She smiled again and turned her head away. Her eyes slid close, and her chest sank one last time.

He just looked at her. His face was wet with his own emotion. He scarcly noticed the tickle of one drop run down his chin and onto his neck. He heard the sound of the room kneeling, a healer say,
"Truely today the country shall weep. Their beloved queen, has passed."

Daniel kissed her hand shakily, and brushed his hand across her cheek and down her chin. After a moment he finalized things in his mind and stood. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he turned with a deep breath to Kearlic.

"I do not know what possible good it could do, but the queen is dead. Please, try to save my child. I know not if you can, or if you are willed to, but..." Kearlic nodded that he understood. That he understood everything, and started giving orders to the men in the room.

Daniel stumbled his way into the hall and fell to his knees before an arrow slit window. "Good liM, my wife is in your hands now. Please care for her until I meet her again." He bowed his head and said several silent prayers for her until he was interrupted by the light of the morning sun. He gazed up as the breeze stirred his hair to see the top of the golden ball rising just above the mountains. The sky was a streamer of a million reds and purples. He could never have imagined such a sunrise. Not in his life, or in the hundreds of paintings he had acquired over the years. In no jester's tales of far off lands and myth was there ever beauty of this amplitude. He almost felt immoral towards his mood while in the presence of such beauty. He shifted his prayers towards the ability to find some sort of comfort in a sight such as this which he'd never seen.

Far off he in the north tower he heard the bell of first light. It meant the start of a new day for the castle. He blocked it from his mind for a moment more and just listened to the whisper around him, closed his eyes as the sun warmed his face, and the breeze, playfully stirred his hair.

"Peaceful." He whispered.

A Beginning: Part 1

2005-02-11T03:08:00.000-03:30

He was awake again as usual, before the first bell sounded. The servant bell, which would have cooks, small waiters and cleaners scurrying about on bare feet to prepare for the morning meal. He was awake before the rooster could rouse the courtyard and bring it to life with merchants and peddlers and folk rushing off to feed pigs and horses. He was always standing at the window watching the night guard patrol the wall of the castle when it all happened. When the first merchant opened shop and the smells of eggs and fruit swirled their way to his nostrils.

He felt better to be there and watch it all. Being awake made him feel like he was actually in control of things. And not playing it completely by ear like everyone else was. He had responsibility, he needed to have a master plan. It was his job.
The clank of the door to his outer chamber sounded as it did every morning at this time when his personal servants made they’re first rounds of the day. Shortly thereafter the sound repeated itself as the boy left again.

Sitting back on the wooden bench at the end of his bed, he pulled on his knee-high boots and ran his fingers over the fine leather. A brilliant, red stained hide with a golden buckle on the shin. He took off all his rings placed them in a drawer in his armoire. They were heavy things and quite useless for all his concern.

The room was huge, rectangular for the most part, with a large canopy bed along the right wall. Four windows, opposite the door ran from knee height, to just below the ceiling with silk curtains running their widths, and two glass doors on each window lead out to the balcony overlooking the courtyard and a beautiful view of the Krin far of to the east, and the walls, coated in pine wood held paintings of landscapes and waterfalls that most could only dream of.

He opened the door to his outer chamber slowly and peered out. Convinced that he was alone, he stepped out into the round entry room. He wasn’t in the mood for any advisors with political issues or for his sister complaining to him to shackle the servant boy who might have looked at her the wrong way. He crossed the room and found the tray the servant boy had left for him. Breakfast. It was cluttered with plates of eggs and oranges, and several small loaves of bread. He took the silver goblet and drank its contents slowly. It was goat’s milk, his favorite. The rest he left untouched and stood before the window.

He couldn’t eat. Not now. Not with her like this. He just strolled about the castle dreamily and prayed. Prayed to liM, for the power to change things. For the ability to say, "Lenowe my love, you’re going to be alright.”

He stifled back a yawn and straightened his red tunic. Almost dawn. She’d be calling for him soon. He filled the basin sitting on the oak washstand with the large ornate pitcher and splashed the water on his face. Thankfully realizing how cold it was, he ran his wet fingers through his hair and gazed into the table’s small mirror. It showed the face of a handsome man who couldn’t have yet been thirty, but with wrinkles of worry and stress about him that deserved an old man. Plump, heavy bags of flesh hung under his eyes. Deep blue eyes full of truth and even a childish innocence, they seemed distant or isolated right now. He either didn’t notice, or didn’t care enough to.

He felt his chin and the bristly new growth from the night before. He didn’t bother shaving. It seemed trivial right now. He didn’t want to shave, or sign forms or deal with the problem of rats in the cellar. He just wanted her to call him. He wanted to see her. To hear her say something off topic again, like,
“Daniel, stop fussing over me and fix yourself up. You’re a king, act like one.”
She was so unbreakable. He had nearly lost his mind the first night the fever started. She had been losing consciousness and vomiting heavily. The healers said her life was growing weak, but she seemed unscathed. Except, except for Tal.

Tal’Melias’Serin. It seemed ironic how true it was that it really did happen to the best of people. That was the only solution he could think of with all the time he put into thought upon it. It was beyond him as to what an unborn baby could have done to deserve the wrath of liM. He was also baffled as to how he could love someone so much he’d never met, or will never meet.

He took another slow sip and let the silky liquid linger in his mouth. Tilting his head back and closing his eyes he realized he had a headache. It was rather painful, but only when he moved his head. The pain subsided as he looked back to eye level. He swallowed, and almost smiled. He somehow had forgotten everything for just that instant and went to his own world. The one in which nothing was happening, nothing at all.

There was a loud and rapid knock on the door interrupting his thoughts. Bringing him back to life. It was almost nervous, and then there was someone clearing their throat. He stared blankly at the door and sighed as he made his way across the room. The anxious knock had thudded twice more before he reached the heavy iron handle and tugged the door open.

It was a servant, not one of his personal crew. Which was probably why he couldn’t remember the boys name. Rather short for a boy who by his look, couldn't have been short of 16. The boy was showing sprouts of new whiskers coming in under his nose and on the bottom of his chin. No more than a dozen in each area. Clad in the dress for a standard servant of the castle. A dull gray shirt tucked into a short pair of trousers of the same color. His own servants had red sashes over their uniforms and didn’t take part in the cleaning of the castle. But judging by the sweat on his forehead and the stains of mud and other filth on the knees of his pants, he was probably a kitchen aide.

“My liege…” he quickly got out before realizing he was forgetting himself. He knelt to both knees until being told to rise and then continued. “My liege, I was stopped in the hall on my way to the pantry, some terrible rats down there now you know, well of course sire, of course you do. Well its being taken care of now sire, as we speak sire. So you’ll need not worry about anything like that sire.”
“What is your name boy?”

“Florn, m’lord.”

“Listen Florn, I’m sure your doing a wonderful job with the rats and when I get the chance I will have a talk to supervisor Cherub on your performance, but I have a dozen things to attend to before the sun comes up, and a hundred thereafter. So if you would be pleased to get to the point.” The boys jaw touched his chest and his eyes widened.

Daniel liked the boy. He had a sense of dominance about him that could be seen through his attempts at humbleness. The boy continued to stare for a moment until Daniel gave him a slight twist of a smile and a nod to continue.

“Y-Yes m’lord, of course…” he cleared his throat and started over. “I was on my way to the cellar and the healers stopped me. It seemed all of them were there sire. And one of them, Kerlic the head healer I think, grabbed me and told me to bring you this note with all haste.” He produced a small folded scrap of paper and handed it to Daniel with a another deep kneel. “Sire, they were in a frightful hurry and told me to stay with you after you read it.”

Daniel didn’t need to read the note to know what was happening. He dropped it subconsciously and pushed by the servant. Milk from his goblet spilled to the floor as he dashed down the red carpet that spanned the width of the hall. The ceilings ran about 30 feet above his head and came to a point. Huge oak rafters span 10 feet apart in the peak and from each one, hung tapestries that reached almost to the floor. Each one displayed scenes from a battle, with armies of thousands on each side of a battlefield, and arrows and flame being tossed about in the sky above them. Other tapestries showed the relatives of Daniel and previous kings of Corenne, some of them just bright shades of green, blue or red. All made of fleece or silk and etched with beautiful threads and twine. The castle seamstress was a very talented woman and her apprentices were all very worthy.

Daniel scarcely noticed any of the beautiful works now. He didn’t notice anything, just go down the hall to the right and the second door on the left. All that mattered was getting there. He took the turn without slowing and hit a small table holding a glass vase full of bright blue flowers. The vase flew into the air and shattered on the floor. Daniel didn’t slow until he reached the second door. He skidded to a stop and grabbed the doorframe for balance. Florn appeared to his side still running, almost hitting him and then stopped also and sat on the floor next to the door.

The Press Conference: Part 3 (The Lengthy Conclusion)

2005-01-21T13:54:00.000-03:30

“Good morning.” he began, relatively sure it was not yet noon, “As you all know, three days ago I returned from a journey to the far side of our galaxy to meet with a race of people from 21k-Beta, or …” he hesitated, thinking he might as well use the Ki’Tarin language as humans would be getting close with them very soon anyway. “… Mollek in their language. They call themselves the Ki’Tarin and I’ve been living among them and learning what I could for the past 18 months.” Gabe shifted his weight. “The mission I was on was originally intended to last just under 3 years, however recent developments in what we view as the galaxy’s history have caused complications in that plan. As a personal request to the senate on F-C61, the Ki’Tarin home world I asked that they allow me to return home ahead of schedule to inform my own people of this development.”

Gabe took a deep breath, mentally urging himself on. The Vrunan council had been the religious group that had finally persuaded the world senate to allow him to return home early. The senate had been sceptical about the idea, viewing humans as an infant race that would be of no help to the situation, even if they were given foreknowledge. In the end it was decided that every race should be given an equal chance of survival, regardless of how small and that even the smallest force can at least be of assistance.

“When I first arrived on F-C61 they had recently finished a process involving deep space probes, holographic lenses and laser telemetry that was used to build a model of what we can currently tell is the entire finite universe. It was lengthy, and took them the better part of a century to complete being that the faster than light travel they used to get me there and back home again was only very recently perfected to the point of making it safe for the transport of solid objects. Prior to that time conventional methods of deploying the probes were used and the project was largely reduced to a waiting game.” He found himself fidgeting with the blank pieces of paper on the podium, and looked back up to discover the blank faces of the people in the room. He was spewing techno babble at them. He was staling. “God,” he thought, “Why in the hell did I volunteer to bear this news to these people?”

He grasped the edges of the podium, took a deep breath and continued. “There are certain things about the universe that lend itself to the existence of some sort of Supreme Being or God. What the Ki’Tarin found with their model was the presence of a very complex, very … for lack of a better word, flawless distribution of the galaxies in the universe that could never have been noticed from the inside. It’s only when you step back to look at it do you really see the beauty of the pattern; a mosaic really.” The smile that was growing on Gabe’s face faded when he remembered the reason he was saying all this. “Every galaxy in the universe is placed on a different vector that, as time passes, travels around the curvature of space to its original position. They are set on these vectors at the perfect place such that they never collide and such that the gravity of nearby clusters never allows them to reach too great a speed and never allows them to stop. This of course, completely nullifies the big crunch and ever expanding universe theories, and the astronomers of F-C61 have deemed that the possibility of our big bang theory actually having merit towards the creation of the universe is too small to explore. Nothing as random as the big bang could ever have given birth to something as elaborate as this system.

“With that said, after careful study for several months, they did find a flaw. And some of their worst fears were proven. There was one galaxy out of the nearly 400 trillion in our universe that is out of place; our own. In fact in the scheme of the universe there is no place where our galaxy could safely fit that wouldn’t disrupt the balance of the system. Our very continuation will, in time cause the collision of galaxies and ultimately, a big crunch, which destroys not only all life, but all matter in existence.” For the last few topics he had been covering in his speech, Gabe had noticed Matthews off to the side of the stage standing next to the president arguing with Sax. Matthews now strode on stage holding a microphone of his own and interjected before Gabe could continue. Only a look to his wife to see the stilling look in her eyes stopped him from screaming at the man.

“Keep in mind of course,” the man in uniform began shakily, “that even if that did happen it w-wouldn’t be until … until billions of years from now.” The man’s methods of keeping the people’s feelings in check, controlling them like you would cattle never ceased to amaze Gabe. He glared at Sutherland for a moment before continuing, ignoring the man standing next to him.

“A little over four and a half billion years actually. However this fact was not what worried the Ki’Tarin. Centuries before they managed to create the model they knew there was something wrong with our galaxy; something odd about its rotation, about the layout of its contents. Even before they knew for sure, there was something that didn’t quite make sense about our home. Well, now we know. We still have no idea what force or being it was that made the universe, but we do know that whatever it was, the Milky Way was not part of its original plan. It was made artificially and put here much later. This idea, now proven was one that has been talked about in religious and educational gatherings on F-C61 for hundreds of years. But I didn’t come all the way back here to tell you that. The reason I’m standing here today, is to inform you all that whatever experiment it was that put us here has now come to a close. There has been no contact with any race of people who claim to have made us. However, star systems on the outskirts of the galaxy at coordinates that I will soon relay to the people at NASA, are disappearing. Whatever forerunner race did this are now rectifying their mistake by slowly eradicating our galaxy.”

The morbid finality he had said it with astounded him. He looked up from the blank paper again to the faces in the room, now ashen. The door in the front of the room slid open and he saw someone leave, to throw up he guessed. He remembered reacting the same when he was told, excusing himself from the observatory suite in which they worked to vomit noisily onto the hard packed clay of the alien landscape outside. There was no going back now, he had to finish what he was here to say. He resolved himself to try to sound comforting … somehow, as he continued.

He took a deep breath and it caught in his throat when he noticed one man sitting in the front raise his hand to question. He couldn’t resist.

“Yes.” He said, signalling the man to continue.

“I find it rather hard to get my mind around what you’re saying emissary,” Gabes eyebrows pushed into a v-shape, “you’re saying someone artificially made a galaxy full of millions of stars and planets, simply to destroy it later?”

Doubt. Disbelief. The senate had expected it. He was prepared for this; he would explain it only once. There would be no time to prove to every sceptic on the planet that his children’s children would witness the last day of the galaxy that spawned them.

“Yes. That’s what I am saying. As far as the creation of it goes, the Ki’Tarin have proved, if not mastered the concept of interchanging matter and energy. With enough of the latter, any physical object could be created. The only puzzling aspect is the question of where a race could acquire as much energy as would be needed to make the amount of matter contained in the Milky Way.” Staring at the man, Gabe knew he was not convinced. It did not matter, this man would not be the last to doubt. Gabe continued.

“We do know that to complete the interchange process, there is required a great deal of catalyst energy, and the same holds true for reversing it. It seems that the forerunner have started small with the star systems I mentioned and are using the energy from that break down to speed up the process of recycling the galaxy.

“Judging by the Ki’Tarin model we estimated that the damage the Milky Way is doing to the galaxy’s symmetry will be irreparable in about 146 Earth years. So we do know that the forerunner will have completed their task before then. For nearly ten months now, Ki’Tarin ships have been in the vicinity of the recycled systems trying to contact the forerunner species. There are no ships or anything material in sight. The planets and stars in the systems are simply ripping apart at the atomic level, seemingly on their own. This implies that the forerunner are either aware of us and do not want to be contacted, or long gone and the recycling process is some sort of automated failsafe. In either case, we’re on our own.”

Gabe silently thanked grace for giving him the strength to finish this speech without breaking down in front of the world. “Compassion.” He reminded himself again.

“Understandably, there are now an awful lot of frightened people out there. The same holds true for the people of F-C61. On the day I left to come back to Earth there was rioting on the streets on Gaedi, the world capital. Much like I imagine will come to pass here, crime and injustice shot across the face of an otherwise peaceful landscape. I ask you now to keep in mind that in panicking, in rioting, you will solve nothing. In Gaedi for over a month and on a smaller scale, even today, fanatical groups were preaching to the general public to pressure the government into finding a way to stop the recycling process.” The nods of the faces around room quickly died away as he continued. “However the world senate have decided on another plan. In the centuries that the Ki’Tarin have traveled the stars of our galaxy they have discovered over 158,000 other intelligent races. Much like me being here, the Ki’Tarin have sent ambassadors to each home world to suggest an allegiance. They propose that for the next century our peoples join together and begin the process of leaving this place. They propose an exodus. We cannot allow our selfish love for our home to destroy every living being in the universe, regardless of how distant that demise is.”

He thought briefly that he should allow what he said to sink in to these people. He thought briefly that maybe they should think about his words but decided on continuing. He’d known for over a year now, and it had not gotten any easier for him.

“Over the next century, with efforts from all the peoples of this galaxy, and the faster than light travel of our new friends; with the pooling of raw material resources from the unsettled planets in our territories, and the cooperation of the public everywhere we will build the sleeper ships necessary to take us away from here. Even with the technology of the Ki’Tarin it will take millennia to reach our new home while we hibernate. But we will reach it. That, I promise you. And no one will get left behind.”

He reached for the mental list in his mind. He was finished. He had said everything he came to say, and he was not the kind of man to waste time.

“Thank you.” He finished and ignoring the raised hands, screamed questions and camera flashes, strode back to his wife and took her hand. Judging by the faces of the 5 people around him, his inspiring conclusion had made at least some positive impact on them. He hoped it would be the same for the public. They were escorted from the room through a doorway behind the curtain at the back and strode down a windowless hallway to the presidents limo at the rear of the building. Connie was escorted away to another room as they were leaving saying she was feeling faint and needed to lie down. The 5 of them, Matthews and the president in the front and Gabe with Chantel and Sax on either side in the rear walked silently towards the car for some time. Just before reaching the outer door, Gabe felt Sax touch his arm.

“Where are they taking us Gabe? Do they even have that figured out yet?”

“We call it Andromeda don’t we? It’s the nearest one anyway. They think the forerunner actually modeled this one after it. We’ll find a place there, and in a few years we won’t even miss this planet.”

“Well, um,” It was the first thing his wife had said since they arrived at the conference, “if it’s going to take a century for us to leave then we aren’t even going to get to do it right? It’s something we won’t even live to see.”

She was the brightest glimmer of pure good left in his life Gabe thought as they walked out from under the dreary florescent lights to the shine of the near-noon sun. “Not everyone no, but there are key people who will; The three of us for instance and Sutherland too if the world senate deems him fit to govern our race. Old age no longer exists for the Ki’Tarin. Longevity is all gene based. Even humans nearly have that figured out. We’ll witness the exodus, and the settlement, and long thereafter.”

The doors to the limo slammed shut and they pulled out of the parking lot. As they drove away Gabe stared at the stretching, perfectly mowed grass of the White House gardens. Grass was something he had missed during his time gone. His wife took his hand again. He smiled at her and stole another quick glance out the tinted window at the greenery, silently saying the first of his many good byes to the world around him.

My Humblest of Appologies

2005-01-13T14:20:00.000-03:30

I assured you people that over the christmas holidays I would be getting heavily back into writing the stories I've started and posting them. At which point my brother made a comment about World of Warcraft taking up vast quantities of my time. When he posted that comment I chuckled to myself and forgot about it. At that point however, I had never played it.

Well, he was right. Aptly appreviated, WoW currently owns my life, and because of this, doing anything apart from playing it (ie: eating, sleeping, bathing, etc) is very hard to accomplish. In fact the only reason I'm here writing this to you people is because there's a weekly maintenance downtime for the WoW servers at which point you can't log in to play, and it's currently running its course ....... dear lord.... just one more hour... *twitch*

However, in other news, I won't be going back to school into September and if I don't get a job.... well actually, even if I do get a job, I'm going to have assloads of free time for the next 7 or 8 months. So this I PROMISE you (and a promise is good as .. a ... thousand... words... and a picture?) I WILL complete them. I WILL post them. And uhh.. (help me out here... profound statements always work better in groups of three)..... I WILL... go try to log into WoW again... MAYBE ITS BACK UP!!!!

..... SHUT UP!!! ... I don't have a problem.... besides you..... besides you and weekly maintenance.

Fervor: Part 2

2004-12-06T23:49:00.000-03:30

The cantrip, still lingering in his mind flew forth again. The elf remembered seeing one of the caravan guards daggers next to the remains of his horse, and a short sword, slightly longer than the dagger lay near the body of Yi'Tarriel; a druid of the moor and a protector of the icon. He had insisted on coming along for further assurance that the relic would be safely delivered and he was among the first to die in the raid. One more thing to pray for, if the elf survived this.

In seconds, both blades were in his hands. He took a practice swing, flourishing the blades together in the front and then off to his sides. His right arm burned with the motion and he nearly dropped the dagger but now was not the time to squabble over pain. He was drawing breath still, and so were his enemies. It was his job to change that. In his own language he screamed his battle cry, "IL MELISTIO VRUNAN!" and ran forward. As he neared his foes he heard the groaning of the trees again, making the men jump. The forest was giving him more help than he asked for - there would be much for which to give thanks. He slipped between two outstretched swords from the front of the group, letting the blade in each hand slide across the throats of the men holding them as he passed. They were not well organized, and were far too close together. To do the most damage he would need to be among them. At the center of the group he heard the two leading men hit the ground.
"Twelve." He thought. Another man made a stab at him and he turned it away with all the force he could muster from his right hand, driving the man's blade into the unprotected crotch of his comrade. The elf did not hear a scream however until he leapt onto the flat edge of the now horizontal sword, pivoted and leapt again into the air. He landed on the back of one of the larger men and quickly cut his throat before pushing off the mans back with his feet, launching him noisily into four others.

By the time he had landed he had already begun freeing his mind. The mind needed to be void of emotion and thought to begin the bond, and without merging with the forest around him he had no chance of survival. In a flash of time he was ready, and the forest called out to him. Animals, insects, and the very trees of the forest were aware; The life around him sprang into his mind. He knew them all and he knew where they were. They were watching him and he could see through their eyes. He could see himself and the men surrounding him and he therefore could see what those in all directions from him were about to do. Behind him, three of the brutes swung forward. A blade and the heads of two barbed maces arced toward him. With the best of his speed he wheeled to the side as a mace was buried into the hard packed clay of the road. The blade glazed the outside of his thigh and he grit his teeth and parried the remaining mace. Grabbing the shaft of the weapon, he pulled it forward, hauling the wielder onto the blade of the elf's dagger. He dropped his short sword and grabbed the handle of the mace in one motion to swing it around and into the face of the blade bearer who opened the new leg wound. Before the men around him could react further, the elf kicked his foot and the short sword bounced up from the ground and back into his grasp.

The giant of a man stood to the side of the clearing with his arms at his sides. His face nearing the color of the emblem on his chest. This was no ordinary elf, and this mission was costing him and his band more than it was worth. It was too late to intervene now. Sending the men at the elf had been a mistake but telling them to retreat would only cause them to lose their guard long enough for the elf to slaughter the rest of them. The giant watched the heavily wounded elf dance among his elite guards like practice dummies as he retrieved his maul from the tree it had been leaning against, preparing for his own battle.

The elf was dying. He had a knife in his lower back now and his torso was covered in slits and bloody wounds. He thrust a knee into a mans stomach and as the brute haunched over groaning, rammed his short sword into the back of the mans neck. With a twist at the end of that motion he rolled over the mans back, and using the momentum from his roll, launched his now heavily cleaved dagger into another mans face. Without a wasted motion, the elf grasped the short sword from the falling bandit's neck and with the last of his strength swung it forward again. He had aimed to sever the head of the last opponent in front of him, but his lack of strength simply wedged the blade a couple of inches in his neck. The last of them gurgled, bled, and toppled over. The elf fell to his knees.

His eyes tried to slide closed but he forced them open. There was one man left in the clearing, and he would be awake to address him. He would have his honor. The elf knelt with his head down as the giant thumped over to him. His knees vibrated as the huge maul dropped to the ground at the giant's feet. The elf saw one massive hand close around the empty baldric at his chest and his feet left the ground. When he looked up he was staring into the hairy face of the the groups leader. He could smell the ale and meat on his breath, and the staleness of his sweat. The leader held the elf at arms length looking him up and down. It was some time before he spoke.

"Do you know who I am little elf?" The mockery in his voice was thick.
"There are few elven lawmen who know not the name of Tarek Orthanial, brigand. The name of the leader of such a blood thirsty and savage group of outcasts gets passed around in many tongues." He seemed to take it as a compliment, for he smiled for his next words.
"Good, then I need not introduce myself and we can get right down to why we are both here." The smile faded and his face took on a dangerous tone. "The stone elf, where is it?" With that, it was the elf's turn to smile.
"Nowhere, fool. Everywhere. The stone will soon be beyond your reach; beyond the reach of that demon who sent you here. It will be given back to the earth." The elf's majestic voice lifted in laughter but was cut off as another massive hand gripped his throat and squeezed.
"I'll ask you once more elf. Where is the stone?" The elf smiled again at the fury in the humans eyes.
"Gone. Gone to where filth like you may never again taint its light. Cast out of the mortal realm by our wizards to where its power can never again be abused. Now kill me human. Kill me or leave me to die here." There was a fire ablaze in the humans eyes.
"You've killed dozens of my men, you've hindered my mission and dragged me days into this cursed forest. Tell me your name elf. Before I kill you."
"My name is El'Varien Ru Silva. High Druid and Commander of the Terianis army; Second in line for the throne of the northern free world; Guardian of the Icon of Su'Shan and life mate to her highness Matiara Luen. Remember it wretch, for it will he by that name who kills you."

The human smiled a wicked smiled and twisted his fist. After a snapping noise he released his grip and the elf dropped lifelessly to the ground. Big hands ripped open the light shirt under the elfs tunic, moved around at his belt and finally drew away holding a tiny elegant box with a silver lock. With a grunt the man ripped the top off to look inside - the tiny lock, shattered, clinked to the road. Inside lay what he had come for; The stone. He had never seen it, but the description from the devil was flawless. Something as beautiful as this could be nothing other than the remains of Su'Shan.

He looked up to see the moon, now fully visible in the night sky, and tipped the box up to empty it and then disgarded it. Standing in the moonlight looking at it, smiling he thought about running with it. Stealing it from the devils and using it for himself. It was that thought that triggered the spell. The stone crumbled in his grip and turned to dust that swirled up and around the one man left in the clearing. It began to spin around him faster and faster until it was a solid ring about his chest. And it started to shrink. Tarek Orthanial screamed at the realization he had been cheated. It was a trap. The ring shrank to his chest and began to press against his armor. He was having trouble breathing. He collapsed to his knees loudly and gasped, ripping at his chest frantically. The ring closed and another snapping noise echoed through the branches and the man went still, leaving only the forest, once more.

And far off to the west along the road an owl glided through the night. It hungered for the hunt but could not be swayed from its journey. It traveled through the darkness until the sun had risen, and set, and risen again. And on the morning of the third day it flew through an open window in the eastern wall of Matiara Luen's great throne room. It came to rest lightly on the marble floor at the foot of her dais and stared up at her.

The elf stood. She was divine in her beauty and celebrated through all the free kingdoms but right now her face was ashen. She walked slowly down the thirteen steps of her dais and crouched to the animal at her feet. The bird jumped to her lap and she saw the tiny silver chain tied to its talon; The tiny silver chain with a stone attached. She stood with the owl on her arm and untied the chain. She whispered her thanks to the gods and to the bird and let it fly once again, back to the wild.

With what was left of her composure she strode off, away from her guards, servants, and the prying eyes of the court and pushed open the door to her private chapel. Before it was entirely closed behind her she burst into tears and fell to her knees. She had told him what would happen if he accepted this task. Yet even as she did she knew it would not change his resolve. Without him they would have forever been lost.

Yet the battle was won. With what was left of her strength she pulled herself to her altar to meditate. She thanked the gods for what they had done for her, for them all. And she prayed, long into the night and until the sun rose again for those who sought this victory, and paid all sacrifice for it to come to pass.

Fervor: Part 1

2004-12-06T20:23:00.000-03:30

She had told him it would most likely come to this and that when the time indeed came he would most likely not survive it. He remembered her elegant grace, slipping the tiny stone into his hands as she whispered to his mind what would become of him if he accepted the task. There had never been any hope of his survival. It had meant little to him because to be entrusted with a task as sacred as protecting and transporting the icon was the greatest honor he could ever have thought possible. He therefore had resolved himself to show the gods that he was worthy of such an honor. He would get the icon to Terianis, the capital, by his life or death.

He broke from his thoughts on the subject and blinked blood from his eyes, wondering - not for the first time - how much of it was his own. The gash on his back was making it difficult to stand and even though he had broken the end off the arrow that was protruding from the underside of his right arm, the head was still buried deep inside the flesh and made moving the limb too slow and painful to make it useful. Almost subconsciously he switched his weapon to his off hand just as another of the bandits ran screaming at him, both white-knuckled hands above his head ready to bring a rusty sword down on him.

With a matching scream of his own he swung his ruined sword up to parry the overhead swing. He used his good leg to push himself off the fallen tree that he had momentarily collapsed against. Then, using the momentum it gave him he rammed his shoulder into the bandits chest, knocking the criminal back a few steps and giving himself the extra moment he needed. Lunging forward again he buried what was left of his sword - his fathers sword - into the chest of the man in front of him. He saw the victims teeth, brown and rotting as he screamed, went rigid, and slid off the broken blade to the ground.

Panting, bleeding, he threw back his hood, revealing the long slender ears intrinsic of his race. He was alone. His entire escort and all of his friends were among the bodies at his feet and there were still bandits running from the trees toward the caravan. It was now simply a matter of time.

He looked to his chest to see only three knives left on his baldric and swore. The curse had not reached the outside of his mouth before the muscles in his ears contracted and he knew someone was behind him. His turn was liquid; his knees gave way and hit the ground and there was a knife in his hand. The blade of a very large axe swept by his head, close enough for him to feel the wind from it. Then his knife was gone from his hand and hidden - apart from the hilt - in the man's neck.

"Blessings again," he thought, "these men move like boars." To his left, between the wheels of a caravan wagon he saw another figure move around the wagon towards him. Grunting from the pain of using both legs, he dove forward, silently thanking the gods that the freshest corpse had fallen on his back. In midair he let go of his fathers sword and used his left hand to pull the blood soaked knife from its resting place before shifting his weight and pushing off the corpse with his fists. The bandit saw only a shadowy, robed form cartwheel in front of him before the knife slammed into his eye, killing him. The elf was on his feet, reclaiming his weapon before his newest victim had hit the ground.

In the following few seconds of peace that he had, he surveyed the ground for his bow. It had fallen from his grasp as his horse, slain by an arrow, had toppled over, throwing him to the ground. The beast had landed on his left leg, but he could tell it was not broken. That was another blessing he could only hope he lived to thank the gods for. He was halfway to the animals carcass before he saw the bow protruding from under the beast. He stopped. Even from where he stood he could tell it was badly damaged and the wire was snapped. There would be no way his marksmanship would get him out of this.

He heard the whoosh of an arrow release and instinctively dove to his left. He grunted loudly with pain as he went into a roll and landed on his feet. There was an arrow in his right shoulder and he was losing a great deal of blood. His wounds were becoming grievous and they were slowing him down. His time was nearly up.

Four of the bandits who were running up the quickly darkening road made it to the clearing he was standing in. They rushed at him together, stamping over the casualties of both sides. His knuckles went white around the hilt of his broken sword and he gritted his teeth. The elf waited for them to be within 10 feet of him and threw his sword a few paces in front of him. Watching them hesitate, if not stop gave him some renewed hope. He drew his last knives, one in each hand and threw them both. Two of the men dropped and the remaining pair faltered and slowed. It was dark, and they had no way of knowing how many knives he had left. His eyes, trained for the night slid closed and he spoke with the trees around him. They answered his request and he set his mind to the task of summoning the simple cantrip he needed. Seconds later those eyes burst open again to the sound of the forest around him groaning and creaking. He saw the men through the dim, eyes wide, scared and unsure. It was all the diversion he needed. He sprang forth without a sound and called his cantrip. The wisp of magic he had left flew from his mind and snared his sword. Leaning forward he caught the ground with his good hand and pushed himself off cartwheeling again to land on his feet in front of the two frightened men with his left hand hauled back to strike them. His sword, seemingly by it's own free will shot from the ground and snapped into his hand and he swung it forth. The heads of the two men toppled slowly off, separated from their bodies by the motion.

He blinked again. His limbs were screaming at him for rest and his mind was beginning to dim. He shook his head violently and a mist of blood and sweat flicked off into the night. The fight was not done, and he was not dead. He would find no rest until one or the other had come to pass. Such was the life of a zealot.

His ears vibrated again and once more he dove to the ground. This time he succeeded in avoiding an arrow from the trees, if just barely. He crawled to the wagon and leaned his back against it. Glancing about again and seeing the carnage, he said a short, silent prayer to the gods to forgive him of this slaughter and telling them it was for good cause. He slowly grunted to his feet as a troop of the marauders clanked into the clearing. They were not the same as the men he had been fighting. They were bigger, and were wearing chainmail with emblems on the front. The emblems were spiders, blood red. He should have guessed, the bandits were the shadow dwellers, named after the giant spiders that lurked in the deeper reaches of the forest. Each of the men had an array of weapons hanging at their belts and bastard swords on their backs. Swords that looked much like his own did, before it had been cleaved in two.

From among the well-armed bandits strode a man who could only be their leader. He was giant. Most of his face and neck were covered in thick mats of hair despite his baldness and his hands were nearly the size of the elfs chest. One of those hands held a maul suitable for a man of his size. He looked about at the carnage shaking his head, obviously furious and screamed at the men.
"You can slaughter a caravan of our own kind at a moments notice yet you cannot kill one bastard elf?! Finish the vermin! Now!" Visibly stirred, the men - at least a dozen - moved slowly forward reaching for their belts. The elf's mind raced. He counted them. Fourteen. His fathers sword, missing so much of the blade would be of no help to him. He let it fall from his grasp for the last time.

Only Human

2004-11-29T01:12:00.000-03:30

Hey, for the very few of you out there who come to the page and are actually following what I'm doing with the stories and such, know that I havn't forgotten about it all.

It's become crunch time in school and I'm up to my neck with work. (Mainly shit I should have had done weeks, even months ago, but such as it is to be a university student).

Either way, if not soon then over Christmas I'll be going hardcore once again with writing and I'll be finishing both current stories as well as posting a bunch of new ones I'm also working on. So don't forget about me and check back in a week or four and I'll see if I can't get some shit done. Peace

Nick

The Press Conference: Part 2

2004-11-18T16:40:00.000-03:30

Before Gabe had completely made it into position the room was practically silent. The eyes of 400 people from all over the planet were fixed on him. This was how it was to be told. This is how they had told him to let the world know. Since his return to the planet the government had been pleading with him to tell them and them alone. They had tried every method they could think of to get him to tell them the truth, but he had refused to say anything until he could tell the entire world at once.

For several seconds he just stood there and watched the faces of those before him. He looked at the cameras and thought about the hundreds of millions of people who would be looking at his face right now with unimaginable anticipation. Briefly he mentally ran over the past 2 years of his life; the signal SETI picked up that started it all. It had contained a set of coordinates to what seemed like a planet in a binary star system on the far reaches of the galaxy. But most importantly it had held the specs and mathematics required to make a rip in space time and travel to those coordinates. The implications had been amazing. All at once humans had received proof beyond any doubt that they were not alone in the universe and at the same time a means of meeting one such race that we shared space with. After the initial amazement, subsequent testing and construction, the question of whether or not someone should be sent was never even raised, but instead simply, who it was going to be. Gabe had been the obvious choice. He was the first man to walk on Mars on August 4th, 2014. He had a seemingly uncanny resistance to solar radiation and had therefore spent more time in space or on another celestial body than any other man or woman on Earth.

After that, there had not been much training for Gabe. There had not even been a great deal of testing of the medium they would use to get him to what astronomers were soon referring to as 21k-Beta. The alien system. NASA and the Russian Space Agency were instantly all over the project, building the machine that would later be simply named Rapture. Within days after the publication that Gabe would be the sole traveller on the mission, his name and face were tattooed across the world. Within weeks there were religious groups holding internet and phone-in radio services for him, praising the almighty and newly dubbed Emissary. As most intelligent people would, Gabe hated it.

That thought brought him back to his senses. He thought once more about Matthews calling him by the title and silently wondered (not for the first time) about the mental stability of the man. He pushed the thought from his mind quickly however, Matthews meant nothing, and he was here to tell these people what he had learned. He only hoped they would accept what he was about to say.

The Press Conference: Part 1

2004-11-16T19:56:00.000-03:30

Anticipation was the only word to describe it. A flurry of motion and noise emanated from the 400 or so people that stood in the large press room of the white house. Most of those people were foreign; reporters from newsrooms, papers, and magazines from every corner of the world, flown to the U.S. in the past three days for the event. It would turn out to be the most important press conference in the history of journalism. They had been specially selected from each major news corporation for the task as the rule that was so overpoweringly stressed and so strongly enforced was that but one reporter in attendance for every company was the absolute limit. Those of them who were not in front of live cameras talking to millions of people from their countries, getting them prepared for this news, now stood arguing and boasting to one another about various sources of information and mythic stories they had on file. They were the same stories that had been gracing everything from CNN headlines to supermarket tabloids for the past 18 months. It all came down to today. Even these people, as ignorant to the truth as they were knew the importance of what was about to be revealed.

Among the very few people in the room who now were remaining still and quiet was Gabriel Morianno. He stood with his back to the curtain that separated him from the reporters, off to the left of the raised podium, littered with microphones that towered at the front of the room. He was slowly looking around the blocked off area at the five people staring back at him. The first, his wife Chantel had pity in her eyes. She did not know what he was about to tell the world but she knew what it would mean. She apart from everyone here could read it in his eyes. It was very bad news. To her left stood Darren Sax, vice president of the United States, a man he had known since months before his journey and the only one here apart from Chantel that he trusted in the least. Next to Sax was Daniel Sutherland, the president. He was new to his presidency, had been elected while Gabe was gone. What a time to be instated in charge of the worlds super power he thought. After Sutherland was Vince Matthews, some military advisor dickhead, a general maybe. Sax had told Gabe his actual title, but he had dismissed it immediately; it was irrelevant. Finally was Connie Lambe, the secretary of defense. Gabe liked her. She had a good heart, but she was not prepared, nor would ever be prepared for what he was about to tell her. She would be of no help in the things to come. On that thought, he wondered how much good he, himself was going to do in the situation, but then remembered what he had learned in the past year and a half. It was a useless thought, depression, making the self feel insignificant. He had traveled a very long way to be here, and such thoughts were not the purpose behind his trip.

At length, it was Matthews who broke the silence between them.

"Emissary, Ill ask you once more. Dont do this. I know you mean well, but if the things you have to say are as profound as you make it seem then it will only cause a worldwide hysteria that will cost lives." Gabe did not take his eyes from his wifes for the whole conversation. He could tell that she recognized how much Matthews first word had irritated him. It had been a mistake to call him by that title.

"I will tell you once more Vince, my name is Gabriel and if you call me that again I will feed your decorations to you. And believe it or not, your repeated, mindless pleas to stop something you know nothing about are not making the slightest impact on my judgment." With that Gabe stole a quick glance to Sax, and another, longer look to his wife, then turned and walked towards the podium.

The Birth of a Defect: Part 1

2004-11-16T15:27:00.000-03:30

Reactivation always began with his audio. It was the most efficient way for his mind to cope with the reintegration of his body. He heard the low hum of the equipment around him and became aware. It was that awareness that told him something was wrong long before his other senses and motor functions came online nearly half a second later. There was another sound amidst the familiar noise of the facility; something foreign. The noise occupied the main part of his thoughts while he awaited full activation.

0.48 seconds after his awareness he stepped out of the niche in which he had deactivated himself and began the mental process of connecting to the facility's network. After being given an interfacing estimate of 1.78 seconds, he considered gathering the data himself but decided on using the time to complete some of his own tasks. A second processing thread spawned to interface with his nanoms, now magnetically attached to his torso; a default function of them during his downtime. Detecting this awareness, the microscopic machines sprang to life in a blur of what looked like heat waves surrounding him. Across the next 0.32 seconds his nanoms requested configuration settings, ran comparative diagnostic routines and reported in their state and identification numbers. Small knowledge structures began to transfer to his neural net. Redundancy read 100%. His name was Tacer, core defense drone for the Aggregate A.I. system; he was in the main facility that housed the aggregates power core and dormant collective consciousness; and something was definitely wrong.

While impatiently awaiting the final steps of connection initialization, he analyzed the foreign noises he'd heard while activating himself to try to gain more information. The noise had definitely came from the northern wing of the facility; a sort of scraping, accompanied by a great deal of thumping, his first thought had been footsteps. He added the data to his neural net.

Tacer.core.defense.log <3456/05/16/14:36:02:45>

Reactivation completed 3456/05/16/14:36:01:23.
All systems and threads running at 100%.
Current connection initialization to defensive mainframe in progress...
Current analysis of foreign audio presence in progress...

Awakened to an unfamiliar series of noises in the facility. They are as of now, unrecognizable but the repetitive scuffling I can distinguish would suggest footsteps. This is doubtful however as according to my redundancy check, I am currently the only activated drone housed in the facility.

Currently awaiting a connection to the main defensive matrix of the facility to further investigate.

After another irritable split second, the connection was made. He passed a part of his consciousness to the network and began to search, starting with the northern wing. He tried accessing the audio and video feeds from the main archway cameras but found the data to be corrupted, holding only static. The main arch of the hall led off to the east and west with smaller, older corridors; their rooms now used mainly for storage. He switched to the camera in the eastern hall and again found nothing of use from the feeds.

While navigating through the network to the western corridor camera, he began to spawn another processing thread to commence the activation of 2 repair drones to fix the downed cameras. This, however he abruptly stopped. It was not unheard of for the digital feeds of cameras to be corrupted during long periods of dormancy, but it was odd he thought for several to be down after only a few months of downtime.

Tacer tapped the feed from the western corridor camera just in time to see the blast wave from some sort of explosive device hit the lens, and the feed became static.

In nanoseconds he pulled himself out of the camera subsystems and looked around from his body. His emotion suppression routines did little to quell what was very quickly becoming anger and anxiety. He knew who was setting these explosives, which judging by the way the blast wave moved could only have been some sort of crude EMP charges. What he did not know was how they managed to make it into the facility during downtime; it was like a vault.

He saw who remotely set off the charge from the background of the image. Anger. It was the scroungers, the ungifted, those human members of society who are incapable of using nanom technology. And now they were somehow in here with him, carrying explosives capable of destroying him. He pushed that thought from his mind. He knew why they would be here with EMP weapons. They would be after the Aggregate, and it was the purpose of his entire existence to stop them.

He left the security station through the north exit and the door sealed behind him. Once again his nanoms flew to life in a flurry of motion surrounding him, they seemed angrier this time, like a nest of wasps, infinitesimal and battle-ready. He ran off to the north.

"This could prove to be difficult." He thought.

OK, Change of Plans.

2004-11-16T14:10:00.000-03:30

While rereading my previous posts, I came to a startling revelation. It was that nothing I have said so far is of the slightest relevance to anything whatsoever.
With that said, I've decided to do what I like to think I do best (even though it isn't the case). Write. I shall, in the next few weeks and perhaps beyond be writing up several stories that I have or haven't already started and posting them here for y'all to read. You are of course under no obligation to read them, but I ask at least that you pretend you are, as that will give me the motivation to finish what I should have finished some time ago.
Until the first story post I will not be posting any more comments, so see you then.

Nick

The Joys of Higher Education

2004-11-16T13:49:00.000-03:30

Well, another math test has come and gone, and as for all you ass holes out there who were suppose to be sending me positive auras, I'm PISSED. I mean did you ass holes finish your boxes of wine a few hours early this time and pass out? Did you decide that taking a little one on one shower time with your trouser snakes would be more important than my doing good on a math test for once? Whatever the case, I'm very disappointed in all of you.
I guess this means I'll be working at McDonald's after all. Which could be a blessing in disguise I suppose, what with the cheap, artery clogging food. Perhaps I'll even gain some weight for the first time in my life.
Holy shit, come to think of it, if I did that I could start to pump serious iron. The flimsy arms I now possess would grow to gigantic pythons; My Chest and stomach would be ripped; and I could go on the road as a professional body builder but leave halfway though the competition because I don't like the kind of person it makes me.
THEN I could travel around Cain style and fight crime in the dark alleys of random Canadian cities.
My God, how could my eyes have been blinded so? How could I not see how much I was wasting my time at these pointless medial studies?
Thank you my friends, for giving me the guidance I needed so badly.
But I must leave now, for the world is awaiting my help.
adieu comrades, adieu.
Nick

My First "REAL" Post.

2004-11-15T23:44:00.000-03:30

I can't even believe it.
Writing on this thing is way more fun when you're under the influence.
Anyway, now that I've attained said state I'm much more free in thought. The worries of the world, evaporated as they now are can no longer burden my attention.
With that said, however, I now find myself completely void of all meaningful thought save for one concept. The fact is, I'm listening to A long Way Down by Matthew Good and it is completely worth my time and attention to let that fact be known to all of you fine people. The smarter ones among you will now be moving to your respective music players to play this fine song. The pirates among you now will be moving to their respective file sharing programs to download it if they don't already have it. Otherwise the first case applies. In any case find a copy of it as you won't be sorry.
With that out of the way, my thoughts are drawn to the game I've been playing for a few days now; Halo 2. Any of you familiar with the original Halo will know it's a great first person shooter game for Xbox and Pc that was released a few years back. Likely, the largest flaw of the original game was it's long repetitve level design, ultimately reducing a lot of the action (as fantastic as it is) to long slow drags up the same corridor fighting hordes of foes.
Halo 2 fixes that, adds a bunch of incredible bump mapping making the master chief look cooler times 8, throws in a bunch of new weapons and foes, the ability to dual wield guns, xbox live compatiblity, makes the ally and enemy AI waaaay smarter (npc marines can drive the Warthog for you now at least moderately well) and ups the storyline by several quarks.
All said, it's a kick ass game, even if the single player campaign is too short (and ends with a dirty cliffhanger). So those of you out there with an Xbox, go pick it up and give it a whirl.
Those of you out there without an Xbox, burn in hell.
Or buy an Xbox.
And Halo 2.
With that said, I depart for slumber as I have an early rise tomorrow and a math test to write.
Good night all.

Expecting your positive aura tomorrow at school,
Nick.

There are Others as Well

2004-11-15T22:54:00.000-03:30

By the way guys, as it now stands, I'm the third person that I know of in my immediate circle of friends to have a blog.
So just in case you're interested, they are:
Marcus' Blog
Anderson's Blog

Enjoy.

I feel like Columbus

2004-11-15T22:36:00.001-03:30

Amazement.
It's really the only word that can be even conceivably used to describe my feelings towards this fabulous new world. The world of the blog.
Soon millions of people will be flocking to this webpage daily to view my postings. To hang on my every word. To base their lives around my teachings.
Ah yes. 'tis truely a wondrous age we live in. I feel like Columbus, trying to find India, but finding indians of a completely different caliber. Or maybe John Cabot, showing up to Newfoundland for the first time, throwing that barrel over the side of his ship and hauling it up, only to find it full of fish.
Oh, heres another analogy (the last, you have my word). It's like when for a while we thought the atom was the smallest piece of matter possible, and then we split it and all that other stuff came out.
My friends, this is indeed the start of a magical era, where my every thought can be instantly transferred to the screens before your very eyes. And yes my children, they will be, I assure you.
So my friends, I implore you; let this not be your last visit to my domain. Let the winds of knowledge carry you back to my words always, and in the end, make you that much better for it.
Ya know, because I'm like... mega smart and all that.
Peace.