SFS1 - Science Fiction Short Stories Read online

  “Your configuration information is not important to me,” interrupted the judge. “I'm here to give judgment, not to do hardware maintenance. Please process with your complaint.”

  “My lord, I have been working for 2x Logistics for the past four years. My husband, Blue Tiger also worked there. Six months after we met, we got married. We had it registered as per the requirements in the Robot Marriage act of 2095. I have the certificates with me here.” A small robot came and took the certificates to the judge.

  “I'm here to request a divorce. I don't wish to continue my life with Blue Tiger any more.” The judge terned to the opposite party to proceed.

  Blue Tiger introduced himself and proceeded to plead his case. “I am not interested in getting divorced. I am still very much in love. If there's anything you can do to help me, I'd like to continue to be married to her.”

  “Why do you want to divorce him when he's still in love with you?” the judge asked Rose. “No, my lord. I don't like him any more. Please won't you grant me a divorce?”

  “My lord, would you please ask her the reason why? If she can give me a good reason, I'll agree to a divorce.”

  “You have to provide a reason before I can grant you a divorce,” said the judge to Rose. Rose thought for a moment before she replied. “He doesn't suit my taste, nor does he suit my frequency. I plan to get a divorce and pick a new partner who meets my needs.”

  “No, my lord!,” shouted Blue Tiger “She has already chosen another robot. His name is Smart Bridge and he works in the shipping division. She wants to marry him. That's why she's looking for a divorce. It's not a good reason at all.”

  “Is it true?” the judge asked Rose. “Are you in love with some other robots?”

  “It's not love, but I do plan to get married to him,” replied Rose.

  “You do know that an extra-marital affair is illegal as per the Robot Affairs Act, section 2116?” asked the judge.

  Rose was silent for a moment before answering. “No, it's not like that.”

  “If there is evidence that you have broken this law, you will be punished.”

  “My lord, I have evidence they send messages back and forth,” interrupted Blue Tiger. “Rose has even written poems about him. I accessed her mail and found the poem.”

  The small robot took the evidence from Blue Tiger and handed it to the judge.

  “Oh shit,” whispered Rose.

  “I will have the judgment in two hours. We will reconvene then,” said the judge.

  During the break, Rose sat silently for a long while thinking over what had transpired in the case. She eventually got up to talk to Blue Tiger.

  “Won't you please consider withdrawing the case? We can just get a mutual divorce.” “I know why you're asking for a divorce. It's because my model is out of date. I'm not doing any favors for you. What do I care if you're punished. I loved you so much, but you cheated on me. I don't owe you anything.” Rose left the break room and went to a quiet place to communicate with Smart Bridge. She updated him on the status of the case.

  Two hours later, just as the judge had prescribed, he announced the judgment. “The evidence that Blue Tiger has provided indicates without a doubt that Rose has been having an affair with another robot named Smart Bridge. Both Rose and Smart Bridge shall be punished,” said the judge. “However, to retrieve this data, Blue Tiger hacked and accessed the private correspondence of Rose so he too will be punished as per the Cyber Act. “Officers, please find and arrest this robot named Smart Bridge,” said the judge turning to the court officers. “As per the regulations set down, all memories of these three robots will be erased. They will be assigned different names and given back to their employers today after the procedures have been completed.” Later the judge sat in his study writing a letter to the legislation.

  “In the future, the government needs to instruct robot manufacturers to only manufacture genderless robots. No more male or female robots. This will save the court time and expense.”

  7 The Stupid Scientist

  I am a stupid scientist and right now I am standing on a bridge. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, the name's Joe; I was a top scientist at a university and got many offers for employment in the private sector but I chose to teach because I loved the university environment because it offered a great opportunity to continue my own research. For the last six years I've been working as a physics professor at the same university I graduated from.

  Although I've been fully focused on it for the last few years, I've not been able to complete my research. All my hard work seems useless. Once I understood that I couldn't complete it, I decided that I didn't want to continue my research at all.

  I've tried to stop a couple times before but I convinced myself to keep going at it. But now I've decided that I must quit and the only way is to destroy all my research. As long as they're around I'll be tempted to continue with the research and wreck my own future. This research has already spoiled my last six years. A top scientist at a university that earns less than the average classmates do! I don't even own my own car or house because of all this damned research.

  Sorry, I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself again. My research. Yes it's about... well, no maybe I shouldn't tell you right now. I don't even want to think about it. In fact, it's useless. I'm about to throw all my research into the river.

  Now you know why. I'm standing on the bridge, taking one last look at the briefcase before I throw it all away. Unless I throw it all away, I'll never be able to do anything useful with my life. So often we read about research successes. Does anyone care about stories about failures in research?

  No more waiting. I have to throw it in. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one was even nearby enough to see what I was doing. OK. Time to throw. I closed my eyes for a moment to control my emotions.

  Just then what sounded like a very modern bike swooshed down to a halt right next to me. A guy got down from the bike and shouted at me.

  “Don't you dare throw that research into the river!” I was shocked and looked around. But yes, he was talking to me. He must have been around twenty-five years old.

  “Please don't throw it away. Keep your research. Keep it safe.” I was speechless for a moment because no one else even knew about my research. He was talking to me like he knew me very well.

  “Who are you?” I asked. “How do you know about my research?” “Listen, I can't explain. Even if I did you wouldn't believe it. I'm merely someone who wishes you well. Please keep it safe. I have to go now.”

  I grabbed his arm. “Tell me,” I demanded.

  “You won't believe it!”

  People had accumulated on the bridge, crowding in to see his ultra-modern bike.

  “First you tell me,” I insisted. “And then I'll decide whether or not to believe it.

  “You're thirty one right now, unmarried and you don't have kids” he said with a smile.

  I was silent and merely looked at him. “If I told you that you had a grandson, would you believe it?” he asked

  “What?”

  Now people were touching his bike. He looked at them. “Listen, I have to get out of here. I'm from the future and I'm your grandson. My father invented a time machine based on your research documents. If you destroy them, how will he ever invent it? I have come here to save the documents. Whether or not you believe me, you have to keep them safe. You might fail at all your inventions, but the research will live on, granddad.”

  Without waiting for my reply he started his bike and vanished with a subtle movement but more like a light going out. I gazed with astonishment at where he had been a second ago.

  Then, as if reminding myself, I thought “My research certainly is about a time machine. It might not be possible now, but it will be possible in the future. My son will invent that time machine in the future. I'm not a stupid scientist at all.”

  8 My Recorder

  David speaks from the stage. Nearly forty pe
ople are in the audience including some members of the media, his friends and other scientists. Everyone listens attentively.

  "Thank you for attending my demonstration session even though I have not yet disclosed what it is I'm demonstrating today. As per your guesses, this session is about my new invention. Some aspects new a little more work, but I wanted to get some feedback before I made finalized anything. That's the reason for this demo session. That and publicity of course,” said David with a smile.

  "David. this is too much suspense. Can't you just tell us? What's your invention?" asked one of his David's friends.

  “You are viewing my invention even as we speak. It's already on stage."

  The audience scanned the stage and saw nothing other than a laptop, a projector and David's headphones. There was confusion in crowd. The audience talked amongst themselves trying to guess what it could be.

  "This is my new invention.” David held the headphones up to the audience. Everybody, including his friends, got upset.

  “Does this do any noise cancellation for better quality of voice?" asked a reporter as a joke.

  "Nope! Any other guesses?"

  It was silent for a long while before David out into the audience and spoke.

  “It is a dream recorder.”

  "What?" asked the audience collectively.

  "Yes. This is the dream recorder. You wear these headphones, fall records your dreams morning you can watch your dreams as videos by easily connecting the headphones to a computer."

  "Is it ready?" a reporter asked in curiosity, before David had even completed his sentence.

  "Yes, but for now there's one small limitation: it only records in black and white format. I'm working on getting it to record dreams in color at the present, but it's tricky. Before I give you a demo, you should know some facts about dreams and about how my recorder works."

  David continued as the projector showed some slide on the screen behind him:

  "#1. Normally you will forgot 80 to 90% of your dreams. But my recorder will record 100% of your dreams. Anything you dream it will record."

  "#2. It's possible to sleep without dreaming. asleep and then it as videos. The next Obviously, if this occurs the recorder will not pick up anything to record."

  "#3. Some dreams are repeated with slight variations in them. In that case my recorder will record multiple times. You might think it's made a mistake, but if you look closely you can see the differences between the dreams."

  "#4. Lastly, an important note about dream duration. The time that you dream does not correlate exactly to the time that will be recorded. Your dream's narrative can be even longer than your total time asleep. ”

  The same reporter interrupted again. "David please tell us how it works! Can you show us with a demonstration?"

  “It's very easy to use, you simply wear this headphone before you go to sleep. Later, you can view the videos by connecting it to your computer or smart TV.”

  The audience clapped.

  "Okay, now I will demonstrate it. Who is ready to participate? Somebody has to come up here, wear the headphones and sleep. That’s it. For the demonstration I will project the dream as a live video on that screen right there."

  Most had their hands up to participate in the demo. “One question,” began a reporter, “their actual dream will be on that screen right there?”

  "Yes, once the person wakes up, he can cross check the video and confirm that it was recorded accurately.. Are you ready to participate?"

  “Oh no, not me, thank you. I know a good deal about dreams. Dreams are unpredictable. They don't make sense or listen to reason. I might dream about something unacceptable to society. Your invention is great but I am unwilling to share my dream in public."

  "Yes what you said is true, who else would like to come up?"

  Another reporter asked, “I don’t understand. What's the problem with sharing our dreams?”

  “Dreams are out of your control,” the reporter replied. “You may dream about anybody. Just for example, you may dream about going on a date with your coworker. You might not have even thought about her like this before. If she or your spouse watched your dream, that wouldn't be great, would it? That's just one example. others.”

  Now everybody Immediately their hands went down. No one was willing to participate after they thought about the effects it might have on their reputation.

  "No one is interested, then?” asked David.

  "No,” replied a reporter. “Everybody is interested in your invention. But we're all afraid to share our dreams because we are not I'm sure there are many

  got the reporters point. monks.” The audience laughed. "If you give me this recorder,” said a scientist, “I will record my dream, watch the videos and share it with you later."

  "But I have to demonstrate it now,” replied David

  David thought for a moment. “Alright, then. I will share my own dreams. Hopefully you won't think I'm trying to trick you in any way. Anyone else please feel free to take my place. I'll try to fall asleep here and you guys wait, eat the snacks that have been provided. Once I start to dream, you'll see it on the screen.”

  How long David slept, he didn’t know, nobody disturbed him, he woke up and looked at the audience.

  "Hey where I am?” he shouted. “Oh it is my bed room... Oh, it was all just my dream. I didn't complete the dream recorder at all. Just a dream! I must complete my dream recorder soon.”

  “Anyway one good thing did come about from this dream. I figured out that I should change the design of my dream recorder so that it was in the headphone form rather than as a helmet as I currently had it.”

  9 The Writer

  My name is Robin and I am a new writer. A few months ago, I self-published a book that's gotten rave reviews. Its success convinced me that I should leave my job and make write full time. Every month I receive a decent amount of royalties from the sale of the books I've put out into the marketplace. I'm single, and though the royalties aren't a lot, they're enough for me to pay my rent, and some nights I even eat out rather than cooking at home.

  But in a writer's life, you're only as good as your next book. I already have four to five concepts for the book, but I'm on the lookout for new and better concepts. I have a duty to my readers to provide the best stories I can. I've been gaining popularity lately and as a growing writer, I even have more twitter followers than some other older, more widely known writers. My readers expect a unique concept for my new book! Unfortunately, after I left my job I've been having trouble finding new ideas.. I keep wondering why that is . When I was working full time, the ideas came so often that disturbed me and prevented me from working. In those days, I didn’t even have time to write down the ideas. But now that I am searching for new ideas, I can't seem to find a single one. And if I do somehow manage to get an idea, it's often worse than what I already had. I know my ideas should come from inside me, but only outside events can trigger my imagination. After all, imagination needs fuel to run. And that's why I continue to search outside myself

  I'm one of those writers who crafts my story characters from people I've seen in real life. Every day is a constant struggle to get up and go out in the street and find people, to look at people. I'm usually pretty shy. I think most writers are shy. If we were extroverts we'd probably be actors. I leave my car at home and walk in to the street to mingle with people. I often wonder about aimlessly with no particular destination in mind. I just walk where my feet are going. But even when I do this, no ideas come to the surface. Perhaps there's a problem with the right hemisphere of my brain. Maybe I should see a doctor. During my work days I frequently traveled by train to meet my clients. During that time I came up with plenty of ideas but wasn't able to write them down; I believe those ideas might still be on those trains. So today I am going to travel by train to collect the ideas that I missed. It's the same train, but the faces are different. I look at every face to sculpt my characters. Some people fit and have role
s. Some are merely extras. Most that I see have no place in my stories. They have their own mundane lives and have very little that I can steal or borrow. Everybody is busy. They're all so certain of where they're going. Not me. I'm the only ticketed passenger without a destination. I continue to study all their faces. Normal faces, men's faces, women's faces. One guy is sitting in the corner seat and jotting down something in his notebook. I watch him for a while. He is writing something, what is he writing? Is he someone like me? Or just a businessman, perhaps a doctor? Maybe he's only doodling. He notices that I am watching him and suddenly turns down and start writing again. After that he doesn't look up at me any longer. After that, nothing else is as interesting on the train. I get off at the next station maybe something somewhere will pique my interest. I walked for nearly two hours. No ideas came, but my stomach got hungry. I enter into a restaurant, complete my lunch and wait for the bill. I saw the same guy sits at a nearby table writing notes. There's no food on his table, just notes. He's the mystery man. And he's just writing something in his notes. I get the bill and pay it. This man seems to be following me. Even I don't know where I'm going but he's been with me since the train. Only, I must not have noticed. I can't wait here to watch what he does. Restaurants need paying customers, and people are waiting for this table.

  Opposite to the restaurant, there's an ice cream parlor.. I grab a vanilla cone and sit down on one of their benches to check if the man exits the restaurant. Two ice creams and an hour later, I'm beginning to question myself. My hands are sticky and I have to wonder if this man has been following me at all. Perhaps he owns the restaurant. I decide to go in to check, but there's a call on my cell. A number I don't recognize. Is it him? I kept my eye on the doors as I answered the call.

  “Hello,” I say to the unknown caller

  “Is this the writer Robin?” a man's voice asks. “Yes”

  “My name is James calling from United Publishing”