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Post - Apocalyptic blues (Part 1) By: Chris Williams on 11/14/2002; 5:42 AM (Contains elements of "The Sacred Berlitz stone" written by Erich von Daniken.) The Nuclear reactor stood still on a mountain, at the centre of a range of climbable stone giants . Motionless, lifeless and powerless for the last 13 centuries, it would be in ruins if it were not for the debatable fact that no one lived within a 25-mile radius from it. No one had done since the power of a neutron bomb had wiped out all life within the deadly circumference. Until now. A single seed blew across the rocky, dry wasteland until it lodged itself into a yellow crevice. The owner of the crevice murmured, cursed and pulled the seed out of his anal cavity. Looking at it with all the bewilderment that his hung over brain could master, he tried to stand. Where was he? He looked up at the reactor mountain. Cursed again and dropped the seed. It landed at his bare feet. Where were his clothes? Not that it mattered. He was quite warm in the desert heat and he knew he was alone here. He guessed that he must have been asleep a few hours; therefore not even a radiation suit would have protected him from the legendary sickness that preyed upon all those who entered into the death zone. It had been this way since history had began again over a thousand years ago. It is said that the building on the mountain was where God lived, and those unworthy, unclean souls who dared to come too near to his purity were struck down. In the early days, many had tried to prove a theory that the building was deserted and that God was not present there, but as the Priest at the time had said Their heresy is punishable by death and surely enough they had died on the journey. Since then, the words of the Priests had been the words of God and heresy was never tolerated. The founders of their now massive tribe had written in their history that the place was called A Nuclear Power Station but later generations did not understand these words. The Priests, declaring themselves to be guided by the truth, re-wrote and interpreted the meaningless words as A new, clear home for the Power of God it made better sense that way. After all, what did nuclear mean? The Founders were survivors of another age, an age before time began. It is said that the world before then was superior but the people hated each other and fought wars because they thought differently. This was what the Priests took to believe was the cause of Gods punishment An apocalypse to kill the sinners who thought differently to the few who lived to found the tribes. After all, the founders described the ending of their world as a Nuclear holocaust a new, clear punishment for sinners? Therefore, all who thought differently were punished. Why was he here? This was the difficult question. Why has a natural enemy alcohol. All reason left his mind when he drank. Then he remembered He was pretty sure that he had become an outcast. His memories were hazy, but he remembered that he had got drunk on the Lords Day. Sinful enough, but to then attempt to declare the Death Zone to be safe from the wrath of God was too much. He was stripped and cast into the desert to seek repentance through death, as many have been throughout the centuries. No one knew what the Lord God did with souls after they had died. No one ever came back from the desert leading up the mountain. He turned his back on the Power Station and looked back towards the village. Being halfway up the first mountain of the range, he could see the village many miles away. He guessed that in his drunkenness he had wandered about halfway along the ancient path carved into rock that led to the building. It is said that the invisible God walked this path on the Lords Day, signalled by thunder and lightning. So yesterday had been a quiet day, with medium heat. He glanced back at the village. He could see smoke from the fires that they cooked their food on. Feeling hungry, he was half tempted to turn back when something flashed across the sky at high speed, reflecting the light of the sun into his eyes. He changed his mind. There was something for him to find nearer the station, so he progressed onwards along the path, hoping he wouldnt regret it anymore that he did now. Deep inside the Power Station, something existed there. But any illusions of divinity were given by just one person. And that person had some serious competition around the corner. Rotelek was technically male. Not that gender mattered much to a Cyborg. He was comprised of genetic material that was thousands of years old, but kept alive through a combination of portable life support systems, nano-technology and mutogens that refreshed his genes, keeping them roughly always the same age. For most of the last millennium he was in a coma, but he had been awoken 20 years ago by technician robots to take care and obey the next ruler of the small civilisation that lived within the walls of the Station. A descendant-based Dictatorship existed among the people who lived within the massive confines of the reactor. But something went wrong. The Technician robots tried to rebuild the service cyborg in their own image. Rather than convince the brain to obey, they programmed the circuits to conform, which led to eventual schizophrenia. But when you really have two minds (organic and computer) you are intelligent enough to keep such a big secret all to yourself. But in the meanwhile you have to do something to power your mental repair unit. But that was the problem. Even though he was a nitrovore and could consume almost any extremely dangerous, yet powerful power source the only energy that could repair him totally was atomic power. So far so good, they lived in a Nuclear Power Station. The problem was that it meant the destruction of human lives to restart the reactor, plus all in a 10-mile radius would be killed without his flesh-protecting systems due to the faulty safeguards. Also so far so good, he cared not about the humans. But the only person who could start the reactor was the Queen of the civilisation and she happened to be human and totally in control. As he hooked himself up to his external life-support system for recharging, he heard noises coming down the corridor towards his domain. The doors opened and a human walked in. When I was human, we liked to knock first sneered Rotelek. The human gave a superior sneer and replied Youre wanted by the Queen. Like now This human was the most intelligent of his generation. Probably of all generations that had been born here since the first outcasts had ventured across the desert and into the station now that its radiation had burnt out. This human didnt have a name, they just called him Atomic, the subject he knew best. The big, bad A he was known as by those who feared his intelligence, or by anyone who didnt take him seriously. The choice was theirs. And this human made no secret of the fact that the Queens second in command was once nothing more than a creature designed to repair the reactor. Rotelek disconnected himself from the machinery, pretended he wasnt planning to kill everyone and stalked his way over to the throne room, with the big, bad A in slow, smug pursuit. In the throne room, the Queen was sitting draped sideways over her throne, with silky smooth legs under her robe resting on the armrest. Royal etiquette didnt allow it, but since the Queen was the most desirable woman among a population of 3753 humans people didnt seem to mind the lady sitting anyway which made her comfortable, and there was no complains from her male subjects who were all wrapped tightly around her little finger daily. She was beautiful, and powerful to the extent that the women gossiped that the cause of her power over the men might not be human possibly mutated human. Her power was kept by a combination of seduction, fear and intelligence. She provided the seduction at all times, even when asleep. Such beauty does such things. Atomic provided the intelligence, and the machines provided the fear. Rotelek wasnt the only cyborg in the station. A newer, sleeker model known as the Weapon had been created soon after Roteleks re-activation in order to succeed him should the older model ever run down at all. Weapon was just the security chief at the moment and was named due to one addition he had that Rotelek didnt have - a deadly weapon situated inside his lower thorax and hidden from view. It was a matter for Roteleks human pride that he didnt have such an impressive, secret arsenal stashed away. Yes, your excellency declared the original cyborg, hiding his intentions from the audience that had gathered there. The Queen slowly smiled and opened her mouth. Out came a voice that was sweeter that syrup, softer then sorbet and as powerful as chilli powder. Not that these people knew that those foodstuffs existed once upon a time. Sweet Rotelek, wont you serve me one last thing before you recharge? she purred, slightly sarcastic. Rotelek had no choice. Had more will power than his contemporaries but was still captivated by her, but not enough to spare her life should the chance to recharge present itself. How may I serve you? The robots have detected another outcast approaching. When he gets here, bring him to me please At that moment in Roteleks mind, enough was enough. No more would arrive here until after he had become fully operational. But that was his plan. Certainly, your majesty The Queen slowly smiled again and went back to being absolutely beautiful, while her second in command plotted, her subjects waited and another unaware outsider was about to make the biggest discovery since the devil device was unearthed.
RE: Post - Apocalyptic blues (Part 1) By: ScottN on 11/13/2002; 1:04 PM Not bad. I like it. Especially the corruption of "nuclear power station". This is actually a problem that people are considering now. How to make a warning that people will understand 10,000 years from now (assuming a collapse of civilization) that an area is deadly.
RE: Post - Apocalyptic blues (Part 1) By: Chris Williams on 11/14/2002; 5:54 AM I have to confess, it is based losely on an idea put forward by Erich von Daniken. He wrote a short story as an example of how facts can be changed by people over time. His was about a tribe who worshipped "The Sacred Berlitz stone" which was a solar powered digital thesaurus that the Priests "interpreted" their founder's words with. I'm just extending his story to incorporate science-fiction elements that would not be possible to add to his without his critics taking him less seriously. The parts that he came up with were the survivors of an apocalypse, hysterical religious attitudes and the changing of written history by the religious leaders. He also added mention of alien beings being mistaken for Gods and told it with priests being the main characters The features of this story that he did not include are the definate nuclear war, the civilisation within the power station, the "radioactive" desert (and it's side-effects and) the soon addition of mutated human survivors that thrived on the other side of the planet and have travelled in search of others. I intend to concentrate on the people inside the power station, but my Daniken influences helped to set the scene
RE: Post - Apocalyptic blues (Part 1) By: Richard Davidson on 11/21/2002; 10:30 PM Hey, are you THE Chris Williams? Don't worry, I won't blow your cover. I hope we get more of your stuff over here. It all started when someone you and I both knew as "the duchess" gave me a link to look at her stories over here. If you click on "authors" I'll bet you can tell who she is. The clue lies in a Bob Dylan song, that was covered by Manfred Mann. It's about an Eskimo.
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