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    NoWhere Stories
    NoWhere Stories
    NoWhere Stories
    Ebook169 pages2 hours

    NoWhere Stories

    By Konstantine Paradias and D.A. Madigan

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Drug abuse. Demon worship. Governmental overreach. Child exploitation. The right kind of knowledge in the hands of the wrong kind of people. Cosmic catastrophes caused by super intellectuals meddling with closed entropic loops. The dehumanization that seems inevitable within a highly technologized society. These are vital issues with vast consequences for ourselves and our children and grand children. What will we do about these problems? How will we do it? Where, and when? Mad Paradise Publishing is proud and pleased to bring you NOWHERE STORIES, an anthology that proposes no solutions, that offers no final truths, but only explores the implausible, the imponderable, and the imperturbable paradoxes of possibility. Because we have been nowhere; we are nowhere and we are heading nowhere, faster than any of us want to believe. These eight tales, by two of the 21st Century's most prolific, persuasive, and perplexing storytellers, are sign posts on the highway there. Read them… if you dare.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMad Paradise Publishing
    Release dateFeb 13, 2017
    ISBN9781540629722
    NoWhere Stories
    Author

    Konstantine Paradias

    Konstantine Paradias is a writer by choice. His short stories have been published in the Dystopia-Utopia Anthology by Flame Tree Press, The Curious Gallery Magazine and  the AE Canadian Science Fiction Review, among many others.His short story, "How You Ruined Everything" has been included in Tangent Online's 2013 recommended SF reading list and his short story "The Grim" has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

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      Book preview

      NoWhere Stories - Konstantine Paradias

      D.A. MADIGAN &

      KONSTANTINE PARADIAS

      Copyright © 2016 Konstantine Paradias and

      D.A.  Madigan

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system.

      This anthology is dedicated to everyone who buys it. There. Now you have  a  book dedicated to you. Tell your friends and family. Hold up there, citizen... you have to buy it FIRST. That's right. Good. NOW you have a book dedicated to you. Congratulations. Hope you enjoy it.  Tip your waitresses.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Introduction1

      Pro-Life Politics3

      Machinations25

      Bob  And Randy's

      Excellent Adventure35

      Red Letter Day51

      Eye To The Sky,

      Ear To The Ground71

      Power 2 The Peepz91

      Slithering Up

      The Gear Train121

      No Good Angel139

      INTRODUCTION: NOWHERE STORIES

      The Editors

      Drug abuse. Demon worship.

      Governmental overreach. Child exploitation. The right kind of knowledge in the hands of the wrong kind of people. Cosmic catastrophes caused by super intellectuals meddling with closed entropic loops. The dehumanization that seems inevitable within a highly technologized society.

      These are vital issues with vast consequences for ourselves and our children and grand children. What will we do about these problems? How will we do it? Where, and when?

      Mad Paradise Publishing is proud and pleased to bring you NOWHERE STORIES, an anthology that proposes no solutions, that offers no final truths, but only explores the implausible, the imponderable, and the imperturbable paradoxes of possibility.

      Because we have been nowhere; we are nowhere and we are heading nowhere, faster than any of us want to believe.

      These eight tales, by two of the 21st Century's most prolific, persuasive, and perplexing storytellers, are sign posts on the highway there.

      Read them... if you dare.

      INTRODUCTION: PRO-LIFE POLITICS

      This is being typed in mid November of 2016, in Louisville, Kentucky. After the bruising Presidential campaign which just closed here in the United States, this brilliantly twisted  political satire seems more appropriate than ever... and more terrifyingly prescient, as well, given the result of the most recent elections.

      In a world turning inward on itself, growing colder and more hostile, seeking quick, simple answers to difficult questions, in increasingly violent ways, can we afford to ignore the questions posed by this story?

      PRO-LIFE POLITICS

      Konstantine Paradias

      ––––––––

      Four-score and twenty decades ago Senator DeGrasse’s voice boomed out from every TV speaker in the nation our  FourFathers did make the taking of a life legal, to aid the common man in his struggle against injustice.

      The lights grew brighter, revealing Senator DeGrasse’s head sloshing inside its jar, perched on the lap of an attractive zombie-aide, sitting in a baby seal-skin leather swivel chair.

      "The FourFathers’ wisdom did deem it proper to bestow to every man, woman and gender in between of these United Nations of Arcadia the privilege and the responsibility of terminating another’s life, when their actions threatened their ideals, religious beliefs or their way of life." The zombie-aide blindly grabbed  a laser-rifle that was thrown at it from off- screen and fired it in the same fluid motion, vaporizing the upper head of a ninja that had snuck in close, poised to strike.

      "Thus did those blessed heroes of these UN of A protect themselves and restore order, by virtue of their own arms and wit. Graced with this singular freedom, our citizens did finally obtain the capability of enacting justice in their own terms!"

      The  zombie-aide  dropped  the laser-rifle

      and swiveled Senator DeGrasse’s head jar so it faced camera two. Senator DeGrasse continued, spurred on by the sound of the camera-lenses zooming closer to his face:

      "And yet, there are those who would wish to see our citizens denied this very right. There are shadowy forces which grasp and claw at the very foundations of Democracy; the very same Democracy which elected Our Almighty President For Nuclear Half-Life, Lord Do’Gkrok the Third! They wish to abolish this right; to make the taking of a life once again illegal, to dub it murder and drag the morality of this great nation back to the times of the monkey- men!"

      Senator DeGrasse inhaled deeply of the green life-sustaining liquid in which he floated, and cried:

      Preserve our sacred right! Vote NO on Prop 619!

      The image of Senator DeGrasse faded, replaced by the image of a bloody-faced black woman, hard at work vivisecting a screaming man with a chainsaw.

      Vote NO on Prop 619.

      Atop a plateau in Peru, an enhanced-Llama said through its surgically altered larynx, in between bites into the soft flesh of an armed herder:

      Vote NO on Prop 619.

      In the middle of a schoolyard, a 6-year old boy smiled a buck-toothed smile at the camera, the nightstick in his hands dripping with bully- blood. He shouted:

      Vote NO on Prop 619!

      The Religionist Conservatism Party’s radioactive lizard logo came into view, scored by the booming sound of the UNA national anthem:

      Preserve the citizens’ right to defend themselves. Vote NO on Prop 619.

      Well, that’s it. We’re creamed. Party Secretary Neil Tyson said, switching off the holo-tube with a flick of his wrist. Across the table, Senator Abin Ibn’Gur rapped his fingers on the faux-mahogany, his eyes darting across the room at his massed android aides, PR specialists and sex-cult hierophants. His enhanced-dolphin marketing executive shuddered in her tank, as the Senator’s eyes transfixed her.

      You told me this would not happen.

      We weren’t counting on the Religi-Cons pouring so much money on this campaign, what with the elections just around-

      "You  gave  me  your  assurances,  Irki’Tik.

      Swore on your dorsal fin."

      We weren’t counting on Senator DeGrasse’s involvement, especially in light of his nomination for the Vice-Presidency!

      "You think DeGrasse gives a damn about the vice-presidency? You think this man is an idiot? You think he does not know that Vice- President is fancy-talk for yes-man-in-a-jar?"

      We believed that his newfound political responsibilities...

      "We are ruled by a malevolent cloud of sentient nanites, you hare-brained little  smart-

      ass! There are no political responsibilities!" Abin Ibn’Gur screamed at the dolphin in the tank, slamming his fist down on the conference table. When he was done, Abin wiped the spit from his lips, straightened his mullet, took a deep breath and said:

      How are we doing in the polls?

      Android-Aide HLK2121’s chest opened to expose his holo-projector. A 4-dimensional graph showing a pie-column chart faded into being, depicting the Religionist Conservatism Party’s standing among the masses (outlined in Pretty Pink) versus the Libertarian Socialist Party (presented in Trashy Turquoise). The clashing colors made it look like a newborn tetrahedron with a light case of the mumps. Abin Ibn’Gur bit his lip at the sight of it, shooting glances at Irki’Tik, who had turned her sphere opaque. Around him, his PR men, his senior advisors, adjutants, liaisons and two scores of interns held their collective breath as he said:

      "How do we get out of this pickle? Hm? What can we do to give Prop 619 a chance? Or better yet, what could we possibly do so we don’t get lynched after DeGrasse pulverizes us in the elections? Anyone? What is this? Am I surrounded by a bunch of overeducated mutes? Have I been throwing those paychecks away? Have I bought some of you out of a lifetime of slavery in the deuterium mines for nothing?

      You! Yes, you, speak up! Abin almost yelped halfway through his rant at the sight of an intern’s raised hand, fingers wagging like  a

      nervous schoolboy’s.

      Well, um, sir...my name is Andrew Van Halen and I was wondering...um, couldn’t you like, call Senator DeGrasse out to a debate? said the boy, in between puffs of his twin- barreled electronic cigarette. The assembly turned their eyes on him in unison.

      A what?

      A political debate, sir. It was, um...a form of conflict resolution used until, um, the latter halves of the 3rd Millennium. It was, um, mostly a tribal thing, you know. Where the supporters of each argument would, um, get together in a room and, um, talk it out?

      You mean like a Uranian Stand-off? Everyone pointing guns at everyone else? Party Secretary Neil Tyson commented in his most condescending tone. The intern continued, undaunted:

      No, um, I meant like...without guns. Or bombs, or viral injectors, or nerve gas grenades or power armor. I mean, um, unarmed. Just two people, talking it out, with a third person  posing questions.

      Abin Ibn’Gur’s eyebrows shot up at the thought of the prospect: a stand-off between political rivals was nothing new; if anything, people had been doing it since  time immemorial in arenas, closed cage matches or via proxy assassination. But this... it sounded promising.

      And how do you judge the outcome?  How  do  people  know  who  won?  Abin

      inquired.

      You don’t. Well, um, at least the people back then didn’t. They just counted on the voters, you know? They, um, made their case and tried to get public opinion on their side and then, in the elections, the one who had made his case best would, um, win. The intern’s voice petered out, blushing fiercely.

      With all due respect, Senator, I propose we revert to the Party Line and attempt a low- orbital bombing on Senator DeGrasses’ Antarctic beach house; show the Party’s muscle and remind people that- Neil Tyson began, but was cut

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