Tilman Otto Wagner

2 0 7 7


 
Sci-Fi ShortNovella

 
 

by Tilman-Otto WAGNER


 

It’s the year 2077. Life is diversified in the city of Plutonanix. Plutonanix is an aethereal-floating city in zone T3 of Eurerica. Zone T3 covers an area of 11,400 square miles and 72 % of Eurerica’s surface. Plutonanix is entirely made of blue turf and white reed. Every android citizen is spending its entire durability with working. They are afraid of running out of life energy credits. Every android citizen of Plutonanix has to buy enough life energy credits to survive the night. If someone forgets about it or can’t make it to one of the 2,575900856300 life energy supply centers, it means the sudden death of the concerned citizen. Twice a year, citizens are being vaccined by the SPA pharma representatives in order to suppress their emotions and brain activities. What nobody knows is that the vaccine contains the T4-virus. Every single action, thought or word spoken by the citizens is being intercepted, censored, reprogrammed and reimplemented by the Supreme Power Agency. The SPA is the main datacentre of Plutonanix, where thousands of computer programmers and geneticists conceive in their life design labs every single detail of its citizen’s avatars.
       
Ot and Ve are partners in mind and sentient androids of Plutonanix, that are capable of expressing and receving emotions, like love, hate, pitty, compassion, anger, fear, despair, weakness, vulnerability, insecurity, intrinsincness, hope, etc. This morning, they are facing some troubles, finding the fastest possible vehicle for a ride outside the city. On Nomdays, Plutonanix is usually frenzy and energetic. Ot is wearing his indigo tweed suit, icy blue vinylic shoes and turquoise sun glasses. His ginger hair and eye colour are reflecting in the glance of Ve’s blood red stilettos. The crimson snug dress of latex covers her long legs. They stand in front of the aerocab-station, looking out for a ride.
 
Ve (shaking her long icy blueish hair): «What kind of a trip is this going to be?»
 
Ot (right hand in his pocket): «How would I know?! We’re just getting started …»   
 
They keep on browsing around, every now and then looking in each others eyes. Ot takes out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one up. He closes his eyes and bows his head in feigned shame. Ve is gazing at him, her sea blue eyes wide open. A white aerocab pulls over. Ot and Ve hop on. Within seconds, the aerocab flys into the greyish sky. It is Rifday, the 117th of Guasat, 2077. At 55 pcaxm, Ot and Ve arrive at the cold and moisty edge of Plutonanix. A few dark plants are dispersed in their dilapidation around the two of them, without memories of the ancient lifestyle. The pavement of Plutonanix’ suburbian area - greyish cells of tar and concrete all over the place. They slowly explore the surroundings with their hungry steps, hoping to find a spot where the eyes can stare at without getting tired. Ve opens up the palm of her hand, in which a tiny green robot butterfly is waiting to be activated. She presses a poky button on the left wing of the butterfly …, and all of a sudden, it starts fluttering around in the static cold air.
 
Ot (left hand in his pocket): «There it flies away. Is it the new C3T24 prototype?»
 
Ve is looking at him in a puzzled manner. Even if she tries, she can’t bring herself to say anything. The tiny green robot butterfly is wheeling on top of their heads for a while, then it disappears behind the setting evening sun. An icy cold wind forces them to return to the aerocab-station. The surroundings are unbearable: carbon-dioxide and dust, lacking of any form of water or minerals. They hop on an aerocab and return to the blue and white city. It is Rifday, the 117th of Guasut, 2077. At 88 pxetm, they decide to nightdrift and take some orange pills at the local vaudeville club. It is opened, so they smoothly walk in and sit down at a sugar-table, on two crimson armchairs. Ot presses the green button on top of his armchair and takes a few orange pills out of the drawer that opens up. Ve takes two of the pills from Ot’s opened palm and swallows them down. She closes her eyes and sinks down into her soft crimson armchair. The green pill softly takes its twist around Ve’s head, swirling her perception of reality around and around … Ot looks at her mesmerized, gently recreating the atmosphere of 2050, the year they were both procreated in the suburbs of another place on Earth. Clayish remembrance of past memories sometimes glances Ve’s and Ot’s minds.
 
An early winmer it was, when they both came aborning inside a metro wagon on Route 786. How would they have known that so many years later, both reocurred the same paths, the same desires?!
 
 
 
Back in 2050, the Earth was a troubled place to inhabit. Twenty billion landlords, estate agents and mechanics, technicians, bankers, managers, TV-producers, sales agents, red oil platform engineers and workers populated the O8 and T3 zones of Eurerica, the Afrisian A7 and E4 zones and Antarlia‘s Z5 and K1 zones. The Blue Planet used to be a nutritious Garden of Eden, people loved living on, even if in the year 2023 three zones were at turbulence. Because of a few hundreds of presidents, royals, arm lobbyists, foreign ministers and trust chief executive officers the world was at trouble. Violent bloodshed, mass exoduses, dry times, poisoned oxygen and groundwaters deteriorated the worlds ressources and almost exterminated the human species.  Nevertheless, a few years later, in 2042 Eurerica, Afrisia and Antarlia inked a treaty of amnesty, piece and mutual tolerance in the city of Petersburg 21. Afterwards, people were about to coexist in love, peace and harmony, except in one sector on Earth, named «Wotogor». It lied on the cutting edge of Afrisia and Eurerica, in zone A7. The 13 presidents and royals were insane enough to start an armed conflict with almost the rest of the world. It was self-evident that only one person on Earth could save the situation - a superhero of magnificent talents with a sparkle of love in his eyes, a rescuing angel named Dr. Slix. His reputation as a solver of problems and good doer during his 30-year career as a medicinie man, environmentalist activist  and convinced humanist gained the trust of many sentient humanoids and humans all over the world. In the year of 2035, Dr. Slix drafted together with his close friend and health guru Kaura Kaibe and the support of the Love Warriors and Freedom Fighters Unions, the Constitution of Love, that was embraced by all human beings left alive. The constitution was a thorn in the side of the authorities, who tried to eradicate the entire range of its proponents.  
 
 
 
        CONSTITUTION OF LOVE
  

  1. Abolition of all authoritarian systems of government
  2. Creation of a libertarian syndicalism and collective unions
  3. Creation of an internationalist economy with state owned resources and an organised cooperative commerce
  4. Abolition of the monetary system and creation of a collective credit system based on exchange of competencies
  5. Everybody is free from taxes
  6. Synergy of the educational and health care system into a spiritual mind community   
  7. Affordable housing for everyone
  8. Creation of permacultural collonies for self-contained food supply resp. eco- and agroutouristic purposes
  9. Abolition of banks, stock exchanges and collection agencies
  10. Declaring love, nature, peace, freedom, harmony, meditation, art, friendship, solidarity and music to the highest principles
  11. Putting a preservation order on sports and culture
  12. Self employees are allowed to barter
  13.  Nutrition is to be regulated by consumption of biological food
  14.  Solar and wind energy as renewable sources for a non-polluting environment
  15.  Deactivation of the earth-orbiting satellites and space stations
  16.  Abolition of military, arm industry and warfare apparatuses
  17. One life elixir flacon is being provided to every human being in exchange for  10 gallons of drinking water
  18. Mass production of androids and cyborgs for housekeeping, field work, transportation and medical care usage only
  19. Socially deprived humans get credits and two caring androids for free

 
 
Ve looks at Ot with a glance of surprise in her eyes. They stand up and leave the vaudeville club, burning, burning with passion, love and desire, just like two blue birds taking to the air. Crimson raindrops start falling from the feverish sky. A forty-four children choir is singing in front of a neon supermarket-cathedral. A few straying dogs limp by, smelling of fishy cats and cheap fries. Only a newspaperman stops in for a moment, in order to bow in front of the children choir by means of a courtly salute. He opens up the literary magazine, he carries under his left armpit, reading the obituaries on page 13. Mischievously he throws the newspaper on the concrete, looking at Ve and Ot French-kissing under the shady roofage of a light blueish parasol. Back in their cabin cube, Ot and Ve are sitting on two frozen gellatine armchairs, counting their week-units of life energy credits.
 
Just like every citizen of Plutonanix, they have to buy enough life energy credits to survive the night. They know it‘s life-threatening to contact the authorities. Their camouflage suits in icy blue, crimson red, immaculate white, soft green and their teleportation capacities are their only salvation into another dimension of Galaxy 37. Therefore they start packing for a long trip back to the year 2038, where Dr. Slix was to be waiting for them at TeleporterGate13. Ot opens up the back of his head, pressing a few tiny buttons for reset. Ve is doing the same, thus with only one hand. Their bodies start trembling. Every inch of their limbs transforms into titanic dark matter. Ot screws off his feet, placing them inside the small silicon bag next to him. Ve is doing the same, thus with only one hand. Their mission is to pick up Dr. Slix from the year 2038, travel back to 2037 and find the Seven Magnetic Keys hidden somewhere in the «Wotogor»-sector. The Seven Magnetic Keys open the seven doors to the next dimensions. That way, a few selected citizens of Plutonanix can teleport themselves to the year 3013, respectively to a far distant planet in Galaxy 42, which bears in its core the antidote for the T4-virus they have been infected with by the SPA pharma representatives. The chondrite planet consists of amino acids and presolar grains, which deliver the active substance for the antidote.
 
 
Ot and Ve are waiting in front of TeleporterGate12. Crimson raindrops start falling from the feverish sky. It is Nomday, the 77th of Guasut, 2077. Time and space melt into an infinite spiral vacuum. Ot swallows two red pills, swirls his head twice and kneels down for a few seconds. Ve follows the instructions on the pavement. Within seconds, a transparent gate opens in front of them. They enter and disappear from the surface of the moisty concrete. A few seconds later, they pick up Dr. Slix in the year 2038 at TeleporterGate13. Dr. Slix, all dressed in a silver feather costume and wearing silver platform shoes, is welcoming them with a bouquet of perfumed flowers, named “Turnera diffusa”. He smiles gently, as the transparent gate opens in front of his tall silhouette and edged face under the  silver-grey hair. Ot and Ve screw on their feet and hands, blandly elevating onto the fleshy concrete.       
«Are you awaiting us?», asks Ve in a silent tone.
 
«Sure thing! Hicks tha’ pix. Safe trip?»
 
«Yes …», replies Ot.
 
«Shall we?», Dr. Slix asks akwardly.
 
They step forward at TeleporterGate13 and disappear within fragments of a second. Their mission to pick up Dr. Slix from the year 2038, travel back to 2037 and find the Seven Magnetic Keys hidden somewhere in the «Wotogor»-sector, is halfway-through.
 
 
The «Wotogor» sector is at war with elite troups from Eurerica, Afrisia and Antarlia. 200 snipers were sent to «Wotogor» in order to make sure that all the red fossil oil stocks and drinking water reserves were to be seized. The nuclear terrestrial cyborg units of «Wotogor» were ready for armed actions. Titanium protection shields and plutonium anti-tank guns were activated from the order issued by the 13 presidents and royals of «Wotogor». Telescopic drones at the RCSW were programmed to track down every temperature of android body emissions within a radius of 1.300 square miles. The «Wotogor»-sector was entirely build from titanium blocks and white quicksands near the coast of Ocean A.P. It was a maximum security unit, where the central data agency was set on tracking down the exact coordinates of the 200 snipers’ position. It was called Mission Blue because of the indigo blue color of the snipers’ camo suits.
 
Dr. Slix, Ve and Ot arrive in the year of 2037 in «Wotogor». No life energy credits required here. The metallic reflection of the very few sunrays in the titanium blocks is blending them. They put on their dark blue sunglasses with body heat visibility. For a moment, Ve is looking north, using her left arm as a field glass. There is a huge sandstorm approaching from the artificial steppe which spreads out in front of them. Dr. Slix is activating his thermo-suit. Ot activates his chameleon-camouflage, becoming one with the sandy white of his environment. Ve is still observing the approaching sandstorm through her left arm. An earpiercing, howling wind goes right through them, as they decide to walk south. The only help supplied to them by the Intergalactic Commissioners regarding the exact repository of the Seven Magnetic Keys is an amber map with carved runes of the seven paths that lead to the repositories. They don’t know though if there are seven different storage places or just one. It is a dangerous mission they embark on, for every single citizen’s future existence on Plutonanix depends on them finding the Seven Magnetic Keys and handing them out to the Intergalactic Commissioners. The territory, where the 200 infiltrated snipers are fighting against the «Wotogor» war robots, is a death zone. As they walk south, deeper and deeper into the fossil oil territories, Dr. Slix suggests an oasis pit stop. As he spots a red fossil oil platform within a range of 40 square miles, Ot and Ve preventively realize what is going to happen. They both fetch and activate their hipnotism-antennas. These intelligent electronic devices can hypnotize a sentient being within a range of 40 to 60 square miles, putting it into a 24-hours deep slumber.                        
 
«Hicks tha’ pix, we should get it movin’!», whispers Dr. Slix in an old-fashioned manner.
 
Ot and Ve nod consensually. They can feel the truculent sandstorm behind their backs. Ve points her hipnotism-antenna at the engineers and workers, who are located on the red oil platform, presses the on-button and charms the clueless men into a deep sleep. Dr. Slix sets in motion, directing Ot and Ve the way to the south. Walking by the platform with the sleeping engineers and workers, a shaft of red light points at the forehead of Ot. A piping shot echoes through the dusty air of the white quicksand dunes. Ve and Dr. Slix run for cover, hiding behind an amorphous blue silicon rock. Ot’s body falls into muddy swamp water. His chameleon-camouflage deactivates. Ve takes out a small remote-controller from her left pocket and presses a red button, transforming Ot‘s hull into an android body protector. A second shot is fired at Ot. The bullet bounces off. Ot reaches out for an elastic vine, hanging on for dear life with his fingers clutching the vine. Ve extends her telescopic limb to a point where Ot grabs for her fingers. A third shot misses Ot’s hull by a fraction of an inch. Dr. Slix and Ve pull Ot out of the sewaged water of the swamp. They tear him behind the blue silicon rock. Within a fraction of a second, they teleport themselves by use of their telepathic energy accumulators to a remote site in the «Wotogor»-sector. Crimson red fog patches are spreading out in front of them together with a keen smell of burnt up rubber tires. Checking their position and reassembling their camouflage suits, a far distant explosion arouses their attention. Kneeling, Ve and Dr. Slix fix the damaged particles of Ot’s head.
 
«It must have been a drone attack», Dr. Slix whispers.
 
 
 
Meanwhile, an emergency meeting with the 13 presidents and royals of «Wotogor» is being held at the headquarters of the RCSW. Everybody is in alert about the three intruders and 200 snipers prowling round the white quicksands. The telescopic drones still can’t trace down the precise position for the scan must go through a 3.200 square miles area.
In the year 2037, every single district of the «Wotogor»-sector near zone A7 is being headed by a president or royal with full rein authority over the citizens. Elections are manipulated by the secret agencies and media lobbyists. Terror, fear and repression are the principles of the 13 presidents and royals. They are insane enough to start an armed conflict with almost the rest of the world. Eurerica, Afrisia and Antarlia cover 97 % of the Earth surface, 80 % of which is being owned by shareholders of transnational corporations, plutonium mongers, corrupted lobbyists, criminal shylocks,  megalomaniacal computer programmers and degenerated bureaucrats. The citizens of the «Wotogor»-sector are living in permanent fear and claustrophobia in their titanium blocks near the coast of Ocean A.P. Every citizen receives three pills per day: a red one in the morning, blue one at midday and a green one in the evening, after the muster on the plane marble plateau nearby the headquarters of RCSW. At the siren alarm sound, everybody has got to be present for the muster, no matter what. The only excuse for missing is a death certificate. Corporated greed, corruption, tolerable criminality and impiety dilapidated the «Wotogor»-sector and the life of its citizens, degrading them to enslaved androids. During the day, everybody has got to be working on the red fossil oil platforms as workers, programmers and engineers. The refineries and distribution companies around the world depend on the import of red oil for the production of aviation turbine fuel. Aerocabs can fly only by use of turbine fuel. During the years, it turned into a lucrative business between the «Wotogor»-sector and the rest of the world, but it also triggered territorial conflicts, cyber attacks and informational embargos.
 
 
 
The amber map showing the seven paths that lead to the repositories of the Seven Magnetic Keys is their only help. Ot‘s, Ve‘s and Dr. Slix’ mission is to find the repositories and to enter in possession of the Seven Magnetic Keys. The seven paths that lead to the secret place lead into seven different directions - no hints or arcane meanings indicated by the carved runes. As Ot recovers from the incident in the red fossil oil territories, Ve and Dr. Slix try to figure out by use of logical deduction and intuition if the seven paths on the amber map lead to just one or different repositories. A dark curtain of tar clouds cloaks their silhouettes, their three shadows exhaustedly stretching out between crimson red fog patches. Deactivating their camouflage suits, Ot and Ve look at Dr. Slix in a wondering manner. He presses a button behind his left ear. The thermo-suit shrinks together with the silver feather costume and his silver platform shoes within seconds to a tiny silicon bag. Softly bedazzled by the purple ultraviolet rays cutting the surface of the remote site in the «Wotogor»-sector, they deactivate their brain batteries.
 
 
 
In the meantime, the 13 presidents and royals of «Wotogor» proclaimed during their emergency meeting at the headquarters of the RCSW a worldide diversionary warfare maneuver, which intended to destabilize the economical and political ressources of the O8 and T3 zones of Eurerica, the Afrisian A7 and E4 zones and Antarlia’s Z5 and K1 zones. First they triggered a ginormous war refugee exodus from the Eurerican O8 and T3 zones, that was to overrun the biggest parts of the Afrisian A7 and E4 zones. Out of solidarity people welcomed, helped and gave shelter to the refugees. Nobody knew, that this war refugee exodus was just a distraction from the actual plans of the «Wotogor»-sector presidents and royals. These presidents and royal elites were all blood-related among each other and connected by a 4,000-year old blood lineage to the Ancient Egypt pharaohs. Worshiping the Seven Princes of Hell and performing satanistic rituals, these incestuous despots and war strategians were all intertwined with the Merovigians. Within the bloodlines, leadership was based on mythical descent, and alleged purity of blood. Therefore these royal-political elites marry within themselves, in efforts to protect the blood and to compete with one another over genetics. During the milleniums, their reign of terror spread out its malefic tentacles all over the world, subverting every important political, economical and social change on the planet.    
 
The nuclear terrestrial cyborg units of the «Wotogor»-sector and their leaders were in a permanent murderous mood for armed actions. On their Mission Blue, the telescopic drones sent by the RCSW were still trying to track down the 200 snipers and three intruders. The only success message the RCSW received was that a drone fired off a few shots at one of the three intruders somewhere in the red fossil oil territories. The precise coordinates were unknown. It was not confirmed that the shots caused leathel damage. Another unknown fact was that the 200 snipers sent by the SPAs of Eurerica, Afrisia and Antarlia were just a few miles away from the RCSW headquarter in the «Wotogor»-sector. They battled their way through and managed to trick the surveillance apparatuses by use of their camo suits. Their instructions were to seize all the red fossil oil stocks and drinking water reserves, destroy the data processing center of the RCSW headquarter and take the 13 president and royals captive. It was an intricate mission for each president and royal had fifty robot security guards available for his personal protection. Not even the Intergalactic Commissioners possessed the knowledge about the exact residence of the 13 leaders, far less about the repositories of the Seven Magnetic Keys.
 
Due to drastic temperature fluctuations and dry seasons most of Eurerica’s and Afrisia’s encrusted surfaces were covered by a 130 million square miles deserted mantle of the Earth. Most parts of the oceans were overlaid by tectonic plates of foulded mountains, vulcanos and sand. With the exception of 8 isolated oases in the T3 and A7 zones, where the most resistant plants Elaginella lepidophylla, Welwitschia mirabilis, Elaeagnus angustifolia, Cannabis sativa and passiflora still grew, all the natural ressources were eradicated by the large industrial companies and warfare apparatuses. These 8 oases were cultivated and looked after  by the health guru Kaura Kaibe and his 300 love warriors and freedom fighters who organized themselves in the Love Warriors and Freedom Fighters Unions. He was a close friend of Dr. Slix whom he helped drafting the Constution of Love in 2035. The water was supplied by rain messengers in exchange for a miraculous elixir of life extracted from the plants in the oases. The brewing recipe was kept secret by Kaura Kaibe. Nobody except himself knew how to prepare the elixir. It provided a lifespan vitality of 170 years. Love warriors and freedom fighters were relicts from the ancient time when The Blue Planet used to be a nutritious Garden of Eden. Their mission was to share their infinite knowledge of the universal awareness with the future generations and to preserve the collective mind and memory of the human species. Under the strict but warmhearted guidance of their health guru, everybody in the isolated oases could feel safe from the malefic tentacles of the worlds terror reign and warfare attrocities.
 
One morning, a love warrior couple wakes up early in oases 6 to welcome the rain messengers. The water reserves are drawing to an end. Tristan and Alena are holding each others hands, staring into the distance.
 
 «Do you think they will arrive in time?», asks Alena in a silent tone, her fingers clinging his left hand.
 
 «Our plants are dying. We need that water within the next two hours or everything will be ruined. Our elixir …!»
 
Alena is leaning her head against Tristan’s shoulder, her long raven black hair falling down over his right arm. A solitary tear rolls down her left cheak. They are standing at the edge of Oases 5, staring hopefully into the distance. Every now and then, a dust cloud rises from the crusty ground.
 
 «Still no sign of the rain messengers yet?», they hear Kaura Kaibe asking behind their back.
 
His sharp turquoise eyes are pointed alternately at the love couple and far distant shivering horizon. Running his fingers through his silver grey hair, his face stonily tranforms into a frowning forehead and a shadow slowly covers his face. A premonition trickles into his heart leaving a bitter taste of powerlessness.
 
«The rain messengers will not come», he whispers in a resignated tone.
 
Alena and Tristan are turning their heads like they could have heard his silent words. She leans her forehead against Tristan’s strong cheast and starts crying. He caresses her head, holding her in his arms. Kaura Kaibe looks at them speechless. Then he swings his arms into the air, signaling the other oases fellows the gravity of the situation. Turmoil creeps in among the people. They start rumbling about, gesticulating agitatedly. Noone would have known that it was to become the begining of their harshest time in zone T3. Proving his leadership qualities Kaura Kaibe gathers his fellows for a crisis meeting. Sitting down in a circle, in the refreshing shadow of the wild olive trees, they are murmuring mantras and meditating. Some of them are performing a rain dance, hoping to propitiate the Gods above for mercy. Their movements are rhythmic and graceful. The other half of the 35 love warriors and freedom fighters in oases 6 sinks down into a collective trance state. They hold each others hands and continue singing and meditating under the worried looks of Kaura Kaibe. Their orange-light brown saris and habits are almost undistinguishable from the grainy sand of the desert. Only their long raven black hair flies in the wind that is gradualy turning into a sandstorm. The women run for cover in the wigwams, holding their children in their arms, while the men attach the ropes of the tents. Everybody is running for cover, hiding their faces behind dupattas and shawls. Bit by bit, oases 6 is turnning into a huge sand dune forcing Kaura Kaibe and his fellows to move away. A few love warriors are mustering and saddling the camels and black Arabian horses, loading their backs with the last five water jerry cans, their life elixir flacons, some fur blankets and pouches with dried meat, malil and green tea. Tristan and two of his friends are leading the caravan northwards, in the direction of oases 3.  
 
 
 
Meanwhile, Dr. Slix traced down by help of his ageless intuition the first repository. Behind an immense silicon block integrated into a mountain rock, he found the green entrance. He steps slowly inside. Complete darkness surrounds him. Then he activates his nightscope searching for a corridor or passage. Before realising what happens, his entire body is being vacuumed by a huge turbine. He spins around a gravityless web of cell tissue and slimy telescopic meat. Was it just his imagination playing tricks on him, or was he really sliding into a molecular time-hole? Thus he tries to release the oxygen feed into the camouflage suit, naked darkness swallows him into the infinite vacuum of the time leap.
 
The transmission signals on their detection devices disappeared. Ot and Ve recoil. What is happening? How could Dr. Slix dissipate out of a sudden? They look worried at each other, having a bad presentiment … a molecular time-hole … Anger and sadness overwhelm them. Something dies inside their hearts. They could never ever accomplish their mission without the help of Dr. Slix - their spiritual mentor and beloved friend. They are on their own now, but they have to carry on.
 
 
 
The troop of 200 snipers finally reached the headquarter of the RCSW in the «Wotogor»-sector. It was a sudden attack through an underground tunnel beneath the main building. Some of the robot security guards were deactivated by the IT specialists in the troop. After an intensive, exhausting battle with several victims and cracking explosions, some of the snipers managed to take six royals and three presidents hostage and blow up the control room and big parts of the RCSW buildings. Two presidents were dead and other two escaped. The shivering and sweating captives were loaded on the cargo area of the requested aerocars. It was almost sure that they wouldn’t cheat the death sentence of the Intergalactic Commissioners. Death by hanging was the primordial punishment for all dehumanized, corrupted and gready leaders, who lost control over their actions by abuse of power and organized annihilation. Their corpses were burned in the manner of a sacrificial ritual, redeeming their evil spirits. The android people of «Wotogor» watched the whole execution with relief. Finally, they could return to their homelands, which had been confiscated by the terror regime henchmen.    
 
 
 
Guarded by a few security robots, the two fugitive statesmen leave the «Wotogor» -sector behind, reaching a remoted AIDS33-infected colony in the T3 zone of Eurerica. The government marooned the sick people in the colony, abandoning them to their fate.  As soon as they notice their misfortune, four bald androgyn androids with open wounds and fierce eyes grab the two statesmen and trail them to one of the steel-claded igloos. Blue light is gleaming out of the evil-smelling interior of it. Another dozen of bald AIDS33-infected androids are standing in front of the igloo, looking angrily at the human capture.                
 
«Your flesh tastes good. It’s really difficult to get some out here. We subsist on frozen fecale matter and amphetamine pills», says their leader, who is coming out of the igloo. His slimy oozing nostrils and mouth bubble as he speaks. With a sudden raise of his left arm everybody kneels down at his feet. The icy wind blowing from the west, is airing a little bit of the obnoxious smell out around the flat, deserted land. Statesman one is being tied down to a rusty bronze cross. They ripp down his clothes and start filleting his skin bit by bit with lancets, eating the flaps of skin. More and more androids swoop down on the screaming and      fidgeting man, devouring his bleeding body. Statesman two is watching horrified the feast. His shivering body is trembling. He knows that he is going to be next.
 
Ot and Ve still didn’t find any of the Seven Magnetic Keys. Their fellow citizens in Plutonanix infected with the T4-virus increasingly die without getting the chance to get administred the antidote. Ot and Ve are running out of time. The chondrite planet is unreachable.  
 
«We need Dr. Slix for this. How the hell are we supposed to …?»
 
«Don’t speak!», Ve interrupts her friend. She points at the sky. Black clouds of acid rain approach. Ot and Ve run for cover under an iron bridge. Rusty spots and mouldered vines stretch out on the greenish iron construction. The acrid fumes of sulfonic acid rise in the humid air. Ot looks around the greyish area, trying to locate a TeleporterGate. Firing shots hit the ground in front of Ve’s feet. They run away. Steamy acid clouds pour their deadly load down on them.
 
 
 
Far away from the cooling breeze of Ocean A.P., Kaura Kaibe and his fellows are regenarating in oases 3 after the exhausting escape through the arid desert of Afrisia’s A7 zone.  After loosing some of the camels and black Arabian horses to the hungry desert, the love warriors and freedom fighters reorganize and build up their tents together with their congenial friends from oases 3. Kaura Kaibe and Mira Mallow, one of the other health gurus, are agitatedly talking about the socio-political escalations in the «Wotogor» -sector.
 
«I am afraid that we are facing the worldwide implemenation of a mind control apparatus. We know that all three SPAs are, as we speak, working together on the finalisation of an intergalactic data transmission system. This system is capable to activate and deactivate every single android or cyborg within a range of 200 million miles“, Mira frowningly addresses her worries to Kaura.
 
«As we speak?»
 
«Just a matter of 27 time units away from launching!» Mira’s face turns pale as she is staring horrified into the feverish, greyish sky. Her hands tremble. Kaura presses her to his chest, gently caressing her long, silky hair.
 
«We will survive … We are a few of the last sentient human beings on this planet. Who knows, maybe even in the whole universe! It is our duty to preserve our species. Our sould, our mind is of cosmogenic origin. The energy that animates us, transcends beyond time and space. The human mind is stronger and more complex than robotics and computer engineering», he decisively concludes their conversation. Mira’s eyes brighten up as she kisses Kaura on his forehead. Kaura and Mira reach their hands and raise them demonstratively into the sky.   
The love warriors and freedom fighters of both oases 3 and 6 are bursting into elation, celebrating their unity. Even their black horses are neighing for joy.  
 
 
 
Dr. Slix is spinning around the gravityless web of cell tissue and slimy telescopic meat in a dimolecular time-hole. His perception of time and space dissolves into the cold darkness. He is trying to cling his gloved fingers to the slimy matter surrounding him. Everything flickers in front of his hurting black eyes. His camo suit switches to a space suit function. Oxygen tubes supply his respiratory tract while he’s being vacuumed with ultralight speed into the time-hole. The molecular structure of Dr. Slix’s energetic field is being dissolved into tiny light particles. His exhausted body reaches a place in the universe where no human being has ever been before. Rays of light blinden his eye-sight. Every now and then, his body stops floating for a second. With a sudden twisted move of his torso, he pushes his body into a temporal loop which is connected to a magnetic field. Dr. Slix sniffs a chance to escape the dimolecular time-hole by switching on his jet-propelled gear integrated in his space suit. Outpacing the speed of light, he rotates out of the time-hole, reaching a TeleporterGate. He jumps out of the dimolecular energy field, landing on hard ground. As he raises his head, hundreds of treehouses unroll in front of his eyes. Shrieking sounds echo in the moisty air of the rain forest. He knows that he is in zone A5 of Antarlia. Before he can explore the pictoresque terrain, a poisoned arrow hits his neck. His body falls to the ground.      
 
Some sort of nightmarish vision wakes Ot and Ve up from a deep sleep in a deserted blueish area. They still can’t reach a TeleporterGate. It’s getting dark. Ot’s transmission device is running low. He is trying to get in touch with the Intergalactic Commissioners by using off-time-space waves. Useless. Ve plugs in her transmssion wire to Ot’s camo suit inlet. She is trying to charge some of Ot’s life energy credits. It’s been quiet a few time units ago, they hitted a supply center. About 20 % of Ve’s energy level is being conveyed into Ot’s body. Then she turns her system power off. It’s the only possible way to survive along Ot’s protection. Ot slowly recovers from the exertions his metabolic system has been exposed to. His eyes look around the few blueish fields and hills that are looming on the horizon. The orangeish sun-fireball is sinking into the black abyss of the universe.
 
‛Is this world as it still stands the only place to be around our endless universe? Every planet out there is being reborn, over and over again’, his mind goes round and round in circles.


03.08. 2016
in progress .......

 
 

Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Tilman Otto Wagner.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 23.02.2016.

 
 

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