A remake of Flash Gordon is about due….

23 12 2011

OK , how about this…..
Flash Gordon re-imagined where Flash is an agent of some Human Rights NGO who smuggles himself aboard a starship to Gilese 581 d  with the latest cyborg enhancements for a 21 year journey in hibernation.
When he arrives his mission is to find out if all the rumours of genetically engineered beings being used to amuse the bored descendants of the original l33t settlers (people from reddit, 4chan etc) in decadent and elaborate ways. A world of bubble cities in the sky (Gilese 581d is a super-terrestrial waterworld) one such city has a self proclaimed “Emperor of the Universe” who rules a mostly consensual monarchy based on status and sexual deviancy with an underclass of genetically engineered replicants who battle amongst each other for their master’s adoration and amusement.

Ben Fogle to star as the Peter Duncan character from the 1980s version who gets stung by the tree stump creature and dies. Any other actor suggestions welcomed (naturally Brian Blessed to reprise his role, but with a twist maybe.)

More to follow as it comes to me……

On the run in the 24th Century.

23 04 2011

Now that his cover ID had been used up getting away from the African Space Elevator Hamilton was an Unperson, an individual to whom the many security networks, financial systems and government records of the  Solar System did not exist. Though he had a physical body in the digital eyes of the society in which he lived he no longer existed. The old adage “if it’s not on the Internet then it’s not real” had never felt more apt then it did to him right now.

He was a blank, an anomaly and totally under the radar of “decent” society who preferred the lie that nothing fell through its cracks any more.

The dramatic crisis of faith in the methods and motives of the planetary security bureau which had given him a sense of purpose and dignity for well over a decade had been a dizzying fall from grace. For the first time in decades Hamilton Green was adrift in the currents of 24th century life.  In the space of a week he had become the kind of miscreant and subversive  who used to be dragged into his interrogation chamber, strapped to a couch and digitally mind-raped for information or reprogramming into a more productive and contented member of Terran society.

If he weren’t careful he would be back to where he was all those years ago in his naive and direction-less youth, sleeping under a heat exchange pipe for warmth and having to suckle from a hacked nutrient feed hose for sustenance. In making a stand for what he thought was right and turning his back on his friends and colleagues who no doubt would be hunting him down as he hurried away from the busy crowds of the local transit station Hamilton had thrown away all that he had built up since those dark and dangerous times in the forgotten slums of Earth.

He needed a place to stay and figure out his next move. With being an unperson without ID he couldn’t hop into the local hotel. Thankfully his past had given him a feral foresight in taking advantage of opportunities when they presented themselves. Buried in a hidden file within the portable bespoke data drive encased in one of his teeth was a  sack of digital cash, ideal for the traveller who wanted no questions asked and left no footprint for the AI’s to sniff out.

His many years of shifting through the secrets and plots of the misguided romantics and raging mentalists who plotted and conspired to overthrow the status quo of Earth had given him an insight into how to avoid detection from the omnipresent security of Terra and her allies throughout the Solar System.

Swaggering through the minds of those unfortunates brought drugged and confused into one of the many secret facilities the security agencies had for such a purpose Hamilton was cunning and paranoid enough to make a private note of how staying off grid was possible. When his supervisors weren’t looking (or so he hoped) data, contacts and sometimes even personal effects were squirrelled away for a rainy day, for when the balloon went up and everything came crashing down around him.

He was sure he wasn’t the only one of his peers who did it, no-one really trusted the state to protect them should politics turn against them. Maybe the true ideologues believed in all the rhetoric but for most of his co-workers for whom their work was just a job (albeit one with many perks) paranoia and distrust was as part of their lives as office gossip and a cocktail of narcotics to wash away the sins of the day.

As we weaved his way through the rush hour foot traffic of whichever anodyne and characterless city he had randomly arrived at Hamilton recalled how seven years ago he was involved in the debriefing of the head memeticist for the deep green genocide sect “End Humans Now!”

She was one of the true fanatics, who couldn’t be bought off or otherwise “persuaded” that her actions and beliefs were just not acceptable for a crowded world with the illusion of affluence. Somehow, and even after the first few terrorist attacks her organisation had inflicted on the 10 billion drones of Earth she had managed to stay off the grid. For months her  webcasts were cast adrift on the meme-currents of the Solar System internet and despite recording her tirades against modern life and how Humanity had become a perversion on a once beautiful living world in r/l nobody had managed to use the interior decor to track down where the mad bitch was preaching from.

By arresting and interrogating one of her acolytes during a peaceful demonstration outside the offices of high profile geoengineering company it transpired the demagogue had an arrangement with a local housing company with contracts to many offshore habitats in the Eastern Mediterranean.  The recycled habs were dynamic pre-fab towers designed for low income transient populations which grew and shrank according to local demand, stacking up piles of apartments with ease like a child’s toy.

Every few days a new hab was attached to a central tower and the ecoterrorist queen would move into it, taking advantage of the freshly formatted blank nature of the domicile IT systems. After a few days she would pack up and move her gear into the new hab next door and begin again, broadcasting and taunting to the “unbelieving” who refused to accept humanity was an abomination that should commit mass suicide (with her help if needs be) for the good of Earth.

The company who had hidden the terrorist was still in operation (it was considered too big to be punished with dissolution) and the individuals who were complicit were, thanks to nepotism still working in the company.

Once again Hamilton thanked the centuries old culture of corruption and indifference which the beloved mother planet still cling too. Feeling the effects of being awake for three solid days he snorted a Jaxx under the shadow of his coat to keep him alert and coherent. He was careful not to stride too much like a man with purpose as he made his way to an air coach station, the AI programs which watched the public like a hawk were programmed to watch not such people under the influence of barely legal stimulants but to spot anyone in the crowd of worker drones who strode the streets and corridors like their life had a meaning.

Stuff and things from the 31st Century.

7 09 2008

Pascal on Altair: Vignettes from the Old Worlds

Raighleigh watched as one of the larger WD-800s helped a struggling AF Series "Little Rascal" move a cargo container. "Look," she said "that big robot is helping the little one!" Pascal seemed remarkably unmoved at this revelation of machine altruism. "I wouldn’t be too amazed by it" he mentioned, barely looking up from the screen. "On this planet the authorities made sure that all cybernetic devices capable of even a monkey like level of awareness have morals. Kinda like the Three Laws but for machines which don’t even come near being self aware…"
Pascal went on to explain, his pleasure in complaining about eccentricities of Krell now more important than the data he was watching on the screen.” You see it comes from the founders of this planet all being religious, mostly Catholics. And with their Industrial Age thinking they were never really comfortable with the idea of the Machines amongst their society so every once in a while a Board or two gets up some ridiculous meme about" , and with a derisive snort Pascal concluded with "immoral godless machines" (the irony that the 100km sphere which orbited Krell and many believed to be a mouthpiece to God was nothing but a machine itself was never lost on him.)
"So a new law is passed making sure toasters and garden-bots are programmed to kind and considerate to one another and especially their human masters."

"Pascal," sighed Raighleigh "if you hate this planet so much why do you live here? It’s not like you don’t have a choice to live wherever and with who ever you want?" Raighleigh had recited that ago old tautology in the Community, that if for whatever reason you didn’t like the society you grew up in you could always move to one you did want to be a part of , or start your own out on the frontier. Now that M-space travel and wormholes were commonplace in the affluent Community there was no excuse for whinging away on a planet you just couldn’t get to grips with. This made Pascals bitterness towards the people he shared a planet with all the more puzzling.

"I’ve got family here, amongst the Kabbalists. And strange though it may sound, this place is my home." Pascal finally looked directly at Raighleigh, the harsh blue light of the Altairian sun amplifying his piercing expression as he confessed his perplexing reasons for being on Krell.

Another Day in the Life of the Century Eagle

"Well, there is that theory isn’t there…." Victar went on to explain. "Theory?" questioned Ingstock, already suspicious of another onslaught of pop culture babble.
"Yeah, the theory that since the dawn of the Information Age all our cultural artefacts have been endlessly reproduced and regurgitated for each generation and whereas in earlier times the narrative rivers which guided the various isolated communities were prone to noise and reducing memes and led to wildly varying mindsets around the globe the homogenisation and……"
Ingstock closed his eyes as if a headache were coming on.
"…..standardisation of culture across the Earth since the 20th century has led to repetitive cycle that rarely progresses. So then, if the culture which illustrates our mindset is endlessly repeating itself then it is no wonder that memes from 1000 years ago can still
be prescient today." continued Victar who by now was on a roll and clearly enjoying himself. "If it weren’t for the injection of fresh memecomplexes from other intelligences such as the Blee and all the way across to genetically modified dolphins the narratives of the Information Age would be even more dominant in the Terran-based human noosphere!"
"Right" commented Ingstock, his face a mixture of wariness and tired bemusement. "So that’s why in the year 3008AD somebody still gets Batman?"
Ingstock turned away from Victars exalted face, clearly ending any further discussion. As he turned his worlds-weary head to calibrate the 11-dimensional fractals in the starboard M-jump nacelle he thought to himself that he much preferred Victar on his femme days, when he was masculine he was the most persistent geek.

Field Marshall Worriunt The Grand:

"and his journeys through the decadence of the Community”

The exoskeleton that encased his body was itself covered in tiny sculptures, sometimes abstract, sometimes of humanoid figures that seemed to be as alive as the man inside and expressing various emotions in much the way his natural body would. For example the anthropomorphic robot figurines that “lived” on his knees resembled a beloved childhood pet robot, all big headed and cute but capable of writhing around on his knees to emote all kinds of things. Such an intricate and ornate battledress was worn by someone who had done well in the martial rankings of the Nuur Clans. A suit no doubt earnt punishing the enemies of Humanity, from the millennia old but still marauding drone fleets of Mazdans, through to the everyday criminals that dared prey upon those populations under the “benevolent” protection of the Clans to the Ancient Enemy of the Tri’Ef’Ed the perennial bogeyman of the humans in the LMC.

Right now Worriunts’ impressive body armour was displaying a range of feelings, from his pharmologicaly inspired comfort and blissful satisfaction on the sprawling silken bed to a vague sense of restless and a need to get up.
Luckily for him that eternal battle most people feel between the drug induced bubble of warmth and an urgent need to perform the usual bodily functions was unlikely to affect his current mood. With a contented sigh he relieved himself where he lay and let the absorbent innards of this ornate red and white cybernetic suit take care of the mess and recycle it into a little flask of purified water. He would have some fun with that later with the lotus eaters writhing orgasmically around him.

Clone Clade of the Final Six

25 08 2008

Clone Clade of the Final Six

Based on a misinterpretation of a millennial Terran science fiction series a posthuman from Sirius by the name of Genvec Balthar-Simmons (a 600 year old uploaded intellect who could claim to be a pivotal player in the ascendance of the Sirian Unity in the early Community) created a society of clones based on characters from the highly regarded but long forgotten media franchise. Genvec saw that the most cohesive and well ordered societies in the Community usually had a strong cultural narrative to hold the many differing individuals together, a common goal for everyone to work towards leaving no time for petty squabbles and bickering. This could take many forms, from more practical and obvious goals such as the terraforming of a planet and the founding of a unique culture (the Martian Narrative), a fight for recognition of a new polity and then military and economic domination of everyone who had ever crossed them (the American Narrative) or like Genvec’s plan, take a fictional memecomplex from an earlier time and then build a real society around it (such as the Klingon narrative of BD+20 1426.)

Though healthy genetic mutation and memetic drift has led to current generations straying from the original characters in the ancient series many aspects of the shows mythology and style pervade throughout the society today. Tales of the Fall of Ashenar and its relationship with the ancient peoples of Earth lie behind every mechanism in Final Six society, influencing everything from architecture, the design of combat drones to offensive language (perhaps Final Six’s biggest export.)
Although there is no definitive evidence of pre-Contact extra terrestrial contact aside from the Gardeners and certainly no evidence for any traveller from the LMC in the Milky Way since before the discovery of the Hadar Wormhole in 2892 AD there were enough conspiracy theories and honest mysteries for a narrative to be woven into this designer society. In a universe where multiple space faring human civilisations pop up in a galaxy 180,000 light years from Earth most agree that though the Clone Clade of the Final Six believe some pretty far out things, it is nothing compared to freaky stuff coming in from the depths of space to the news blogs every day.

Though some find the creation of sentient beings as part of some posthuman vanity project abhorrent few could argue that the society of the Clone Clade of Final Six is a failed or inherently doomed colony like earlier projects from the past Community millennium such as the disastrous Families of 71 Orionis and the morally questionable Walden Project. To avoid abuses of power by the creators the Clone Clade themselves are aware of their origin and view Genvec as a benevolent parental figure rather than a god. Rather than feel tricked or view themselves as somehow less valid than their uncloned brothers and sisters in the rest of the system the Final Six boast of the depth and wealth of their culture and of a society that has purpose and meaning as opposed to the vague memes and drifting fashions of other polities in the Community.

None the less certain militant and vocal political groups opposed to this kind of social engineering (usually from the libertarian/anarchist side of the spectrum) have launched many attacks on the society in the Cyberverse. Memetic onslaughts such as that unleashed by the “ANakaRi oF tHe BLaK drAGOn” in 2978AD were counter productive, making the people of the Final Six out to be victims, ridiculed and persecuted for their unusual lifestyle. In an interview with the re-animated digital consciousness of Apple Geldof IV (now up to 94% accuracy of the original celebrity) Genvec summarised that although he considered the Clone Clade to be a success and now advanced far beyond the need for him to tinker in their society any more he felt that with all the harassment and conflict he experienced we would be unlikely to do it again.

Rumours persist of Genvecs emigration to the Mellard Imperium where the more technologically advanced groups dominate and meddle in the affairs of those less fortunate persist and continue to throw a cloud over his work. This controversy is particularly worrying for the Final Six as they share a home system with refugees from nearby Gebbleon, a Mellard system which strongly urged all those it didn’t consider to be conducive with their new (and imposed) harmonious society to leave. The Fugees and the Clone Clade have always been on good terms with each other, amused and intrigued by each others cultures and both feeling like newcomers to the melting pot of the Community.
A recent (faked) message alleged to be from Genvec himself addressing his children and claiming that he would soon be back to bring the whole system into the Mellard Imperium and take for themselves the only viable planet in Vara Kaeku-Konnile. Vara Prime has been the home to the Fugees of Gebbleon for over 200 years and a world very much central to the Fugees own narrative.

Throw in the recent sightings of a Mazdan fleet waiting in the region to hurl down relativistic genocide on any number of systems on the Mellard/Community border and you have one of the more dangerous destinations in the Community (a fact the adventure tourism industry hasn’t failed to notice.)

11 Channels of real-time authentic WWII style war from the Cloud. Just like Stalingrad in Space!

9 08 2008

Like something out of Childhoods End Community starships lowered themselves over the five main capital cities on this war torn low tech planet. Their aim was to prevent genocide, millions of people on the planet had been herded up into camps in squalid conditions and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened.
The Community debated long and hard, in fact the passions involved as billions gave their opinions in the Noosphere were so high that it became a meme in itself. Polite conversation extended the “no religion, no politics” rule to include “And definitely no Astcomelhirst Debate!”
Because the debate had raged for so long millions had already died in the bitter fighting between continents and the WWII fans were lapping up every minute as vast tank armies lumbered over grassland and jet propelled suicide bombers piloted their way over the oceans to their unwitting targets.
In a manoeuvre that cost him his career but everybody was secretly glad brought a resolution to the tiresome issue the commander of the Alnairian Cruiser “Beautiful? Kiss My Fucking Ass!” flew his ship towards Astcomelhirst to intervene in a particularly grisly scene of oppression and violence that had already cost the life of one agent on the ground and was about to kill hundreds live on the Web.
The warring nations of Astcomelhirst were presented with a situation right out of the pages of 20th century science fiction, they not only found out they were not alone in the universe (the ancient legends were true!) but their space brothers were remarkably pissed off with their current behaviour.
Whilst the cultural singularity was settling on Astcomelhirst and its inhabitants experience that (thankfully) rare of phenomena an Outside Context Problem it was revealed that the Community weren’t the only Superpower manipulating things on the ground. While Community agents had been busy trying to bring peace and understanding between the warring nation-tribes the Nuur Clans had been cultivating war to breed harsh new warriors, the sort of minds not dulled by modern comforts to the thoughts of killing, the sort of killer instinct needed in the eternal struggle against the Alien.
Astcomelhirst never ceases to be out the news, first the debate on intervention which gets almost as much discussion as the Unified Origin Theory and then the political intrigue and threats of interstellar war that makes Astcomelhirst one of the flashpoints along the Community/Nuur Clan border.
As for the Astcomelhirsts themselves, life was so much more straight forward during the war…..

All arguements can be solved with giant robots; 61 Virignis

5 07 2008

Evangelions: Meme-complex and social group from 61 Virginis who were inspired by the early 21st century anime Neon Genesis Evangelion and as such believed that it is the barriers between individuals which cause the suffering and waste seen in society and set about to create a group mind and society totally without these interpersonal barriers. Initially this was achieved not through direct mental links or some kind of artificial gesalt intelligence (a meme spread by opponents of the project) but by creating a layer of glyphs and alternative reality templates that enable those with the Evan Implants to inhabit an experience more descriptive than our own. Living in this altered reality the Evans displayed everything that anybody cared to mention about themselves, their goals, their moods and their memories. Surrounded by an aura of this information for anyone with implants to read the Evans quickly learnt how to regulate themselves so as to display the best self image to their friends and co-workers.
Despite it being widely debated that this bending of the rules wasn’t in the purest interests of the initial concept of the Evangelion the fad quickly became more a part of general 61 Virginian society. Nobody could deny the harmony their society now existed in, where everyone worked towards the common good (or rather everyone’s robots worked for the common good.) 61 Virginis having a largely homogeneous population descended from Japanese settlers in the 22nd century were used to a lack of privacy in their culture so your neighbour knowing what kind of mood you were in and what music you intended to listen too throughout the day was not considered an invasion of privacy.
Like all nice ideas though there were those who took things too far. By the mid 23rd century the “Instrumentalists” were a vocal extreme wing of the Evangelion movement (which by then had grown to encompass 73% of the human population of the system.) The wanted to enforce the Evan technology and society on ALL inhabitants of the star system, openly speaking of the tacit Evan view that the “gajjin” (those who weren’t on the Evan network) were an disharmonious influence in their perfect society. The Instrumentalists set about making life very difficult for those who held onto their emotional privacy by making trying to enforce a series of laws making it impractical for the Gajjin to gain employment in certain sectors or access to nano-replicators (if a person can’t operate in a harmonious society then why should they be allowed access to potential harmful technology the Instrumentalists argued.)
In something of a self fulfilling prophecy the Gajjin did eventually use nano-replicators to spread chaos throughout the insufferable Evan network but only when their backs were up against the wall. Relying on their Japanese tradition the Gajjin constructed an army of robots to fight their cause. Performing anime style displays of robotic might and Gajjin propaganda in a sort of mecha take on Situationalist protest their “terrorist” attacks would often consist of a mecha flying into a point in a predominately Evan city or habitat and them let off explosives and generally trash the vicinity (always taking great pains to avoid killing anyone though) until it flew away again or the authorities managed to kill it.
This had mixed results, the memetic warfare in the system made it very confusing for the average 61 Virginian to make their mind up on who was right or wrong. On the one hand the Gajjin protests were practically terrorism despite their constant reassurances that the sancity of life was topmost in their minds and that any fatalities were just unhappy accidents and greatly mourned. On the other hand the Instrumentalists were becoming insufferable fundamentist bores, often turned on those more moderates in the Evan network for not doing more to bring everyone in the fold. Society in 61 Virginis had long traditional of secularism and priding itself on avoiding the religious warfare that had effected so many other cultures back in Sol and were starting to get sick of the intrusive Instrumentalists.
In 2289 the predominately Gajjin populations of the continent of Hiro on Shikkiro succeeded from the politics of the rest of the system and surrounded themselves with an army mechas to protect their borders from any more Evan and Instrumentalist interference. Hiro also happened to the be the home of some of the best mecho designers and operators, its long history of Bōsōzoku rebelliousness and fetishism of technology was a odds with the Evan philosophy and it was widely known the militant individualists of the region were behind the robot attacks of the rest of the system.
The Gajjin called out the Instrumentalists to settle things once and for all. A pitched battle would be fought on Shikkiro moon of Okinawa. If the Gajjin lost they would join the Evan network voluntarily, if they won the Instrumentalists would leave the system and equal rights for Evans and non-Evans would be reaffirmed in the system Constitution.
The battle became one of the most viewed media events throughout the known Galaxy at the turn of the 24th century. With the looming conflicts in Beta Comae, Zeta Tucanae and other systems the Great Mecha Battle of 61 Virginis became a sanitised version of the wars to come. The Gajjin armies were outnumbered 3 to 1 but their glorious Bōsōzoku styled machines revealed a venal practicality underneath their gaudy and ostentatious armour. The Instrumentalist forces were like cannon fodder to the Gajjin, although they worked well as a team their designs were lacking in originality and once a weakness had been found in a particular type of mecha they fell in their thousands.
After a month of entertaining destruction and robotic warfare the Gajjin came out victorious, their lavish mechas firing off their remaining missiles and bean weapons into the stars above Okinawa. The Instrumentalists admitted defeat and left for the nearby Luyten 763-63 system and the terraforming world of Macross where for all intents and purposes they have lived happily ever after, boring visitors to their peaceful world with an overload of personal information and eulogies on how wonderful their society is and their offshoots around the cosmos.
As for what happened after to 61 Viginis and particularly the Bosouku mechas that is another story.

30 05 2008


A worldroof hi tech civilisation totally sterlized of human life during the Nanopocaylpse. Luckily for the millions of wealthy inhabitants the world was installed with the latest in “Angelnet” devices. Although the utility fog and legobots were unable to stop the carnage many Apunttas managed to upload their consciousness into the central hub before everything shut down.
In the post apocalypse low tech travelers took up residence on the totally depopulated world, unaware of the millions of digitised souls waiting in storage beneath their bare feet. True to their parent culture the new Apunttas soon forgot their outer space origins and turned to living a simple hunter gather life supplemented by a generous and seemingly self aware world that always provided fruit and narcotic seed pods when they so desired. Indeed, such abundance was harmful to such a simple culture. Their lives completely without struggle and not having a sophisticated enough culture to provide other distractions and give purpose to life beyond necessity the New Apunttas declined into a solipsistic society.
With the dangers in the rest of the system scaring off any external influence for millenia it wasn’t until the Community arrived that things changed to shake the New Apunttas out of their waking dream. Wary to interfere with the low tech tribes despite the hi tech nature of the world only a few anthropologists and other academic groups ventured down onto the world.
Naturally the New Apunttas were unable to comprehend the notion that people from “beyond the sky” could exist and thought these rather odd strangers to be from the other side of the moon. Things changed forever when the famous Ashenarologist Unbanks Idaho arrived on the world, carrying tales of a lost hub of souls. On the run from a mysterious and ancient cult who charged themselves with preventing the awakening of millions of Ashenar period minds from their “blessed and eternal slumber” Unbanks managed through skill and cunning (and some firepower) to negate the hubs defenses using codes obtained in another adventure in the Entall system.
By the time he had managed to work his way into the antechamber of the hub not only had the “Guardians of Eternal Sleep” caught up with him and his colleagues but so had much of Community media, caught by tales of adventure and archeology from a dashing hero (already Unbanks sometimes disagreeable personality was being polished remoulded for the entertainment of billions back home.)
Bringing the central AI out of sleep mode in a maneuver that sadly cost the life of one of his friends the old Apunttas began to awake, and they immediately demanded their bodies back!
What follows was perhaps a more modern tale of the perils of fame, the practicalities of creating synthetic bodies for millions of formerly wealthy and impatient Ashenars who were expecting biological ones and the near war that is breaking out over who gets access to Ashenar technologies capable of bringing back the dead (or just creating an Army of Me.)
Life is never as simple as the Movies…….