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Started by Idem, April 03, 2007, 10:35:31 PM

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Payne


Idem

#16
PART 4



Two days passed, and they were of little consequence.  I met Darren Smith in District Two, and we went over many things about eliminating the virus.  We studied it,Äôs chemical properties, theorized about different solutions that would harm it but not the surrounding organism.  Though I faltered in my concentration many times, I at least appeared to be working, and we actually made some progress.

   Then there was the meeting, which I had been anticipating all those days.  I took a taxi to District Three, next to a living area away from the School area.  I walked there (It was rather busy, they had just released the students from school), and found School #2.  It was a black, obelisk-like structure, and I probably wouldn,Äôt have found the door if I wasn,Äôt already vaguely familiar with it.  I found room #13, and entered.  There, I saw six people in the classroom including Ronald Burns; all of the faces besides his were unfamiliar to me.

   Ronald introduced me to them.  There was the Physics teacher that taught in the place, Mark Carrey; a 24-year old that worked in District Six (The Electronics Studies District) by the name of Gerald Themis; and three others from District Two, first names of Isaac, Ishmael, and Bob, accordingly.  In the bright light, I noticed a few things about Richard,Äôs appearance that I had not seen in the dim light of the bar or the blackness of the alleyway.  He had the appearance of an old man, yet was only thirty.  He had a face like distressed leather, and his black hair was lacking, and it was combed back as if to hide a bald spot.

   We went on to the meeting.  The 24-year old from District Six, Gerald, opened, and spoke of advances in spying technology of the state.  He handed out several devices that would ,Äúphase out,Äù the improved microphones spread throughout the complex.  He admonished against using them often, because the state would become suspicious.  Ronald Burns was sitting next to me, and he leaned towards me and explained he had used them when we met in the bar.  The professor, Mark, then came up, and said he had used technology from Gerald to put the microphones and cameras in the classroom on a loop.

   Then, Ronald began speaking.  He started going on about the history of the Complex.  He found out much about the original intentions of the Complex when he worked with the hierarchy.  It was a voluntary project; scientists from all over the nation would flock here to work for the state, and help the state in its research.  The Complex was like this for a while, until the *voluntary* scientists in District Two began research in genetic engineering.  Those scientists came up with a cure for any inefficiencies within the Complex, by *making* the minds and bringing the up within the Complex.  Their knowledge in genetic engineering allowed them to specifically make humans with superior minds.  In forty years,Äô time, the Complex had not a single imported scientist within it; just those made in laboratories.

   This may seem frightening to the reader, but, actually, I had never truly thought of any alternatives.  I thought I was, basically, just ,Äúthere,Äù.
   
Then, in the back of my mind, I was wondering if the Complex,Äôs doings were really, in a sense, ,Äúevil,Äú.  The state did all these things, but were they unjust?  Why would one expect more from the state?  How could one tell, with absolute certainty, that the Complex had a worse standard of living than, say, the outside?

   I asked all these questions, and Ronald answered them; he knew what the outside was like.  He,Äôd seen it with his own eyes; how they lived, how they birthed, how they played.  The outside was, quite simply, enslaving us, and putting the least into our upkeep while profiting off our knowledge.

   Though it may seem odd to go off on claims of an old drunkard, these facts infuriated me.

   After this speech, we began talking of ways to spread the word to other scientists, and to spread discord throughout the state, perhaps even overthrowing it.  Through all their talks, they always hit a wall somewhere, and had to think of something else.

   I had noticed there was one thing that they did not bring up, and so I interrupted.  ,ÄúCould we influence the outside?  We could somehow get out of the Complex, and at least see what it is like, and perhaps spread word if the outside, like us, was also ignorant.,Äù
   ,Äú,ĶBut we would have to escape the complex.,Äù said the professor.
   ,ÄúYes, but is that something so impossible?,Äù
   
   The question was of great interest, and we spoke of ways for a while.  However, one member, noticing the time, said it was time to leave.  Ronald went up and spoke again, telling all of the members to find methods that would be helpful to this endeavor, and to meet in seven days, in which we would plan.

   We then walked out one by one, I being the first to go.  I went to the living area of the district, and called for a taxi.  It took me to my living area in District Four, and I slept in my chamber there.

LMNO

A comment: There seems to be a general consensus that what the complex had done is a bad thing, and strife must be sown to defeat it.

But that seems like an outside judgement.  I really don't think our protagonist would leap to that conclusion so readily.  Why is the concept of genetically engineered humans doing research for a society considered to be a negative thing to somone who was raised their whole lives to essentially believe the opposite?

Idem

True, was thinking I should have been getting more into the protagonists' psyche, this is more or less a rough draft at the moment.

I'm not sure how I could remedy it at this point in time (w/o going back and editing), suggestions would be welcome

Payne

I think you'll have to edit to reflect that more, without going into the cheap tricks like flashback sequences or anything.

Any other thing I can think of doesn't really fit in with the story.

LMNO

It seems that the old drunk guy has decided it's a bad thing.

It's the protagonist who needs convincing.

Increase the dialog in the classroom, making a debate whether or not the Complex is good or bad, moral or immoral, and why.  The protagonist can ask questions about why it's bad , if they produce good things, and the drunk can answer with comments on personal freedom, etc.

P3nT4gR4m

Could use a bit more of the sexx0r too.

srsly tho - shaping up fine so far IMO

I'm up to my arse in Brexit Numpties, but I want more.  Target-rich environments are the new sexy.
Not actually a meat product.
Ass-Kicking & Foot-Stomping Ancient Master of SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK
Awful and Bent Behemothic Results of Last Night's Painful Squat.
High Altitude Haggis-Filled Sex Bucket From Beyond Time and Space.
Internet Monkey Person of Filthy and Immoral Pygmy-Porn Wart Contagion
Octomom Auxillary Heat Exchanger Repairman
walking the fine line line between genius and batshit fucking crazy

"computation is a pattern in the spacetime arrangement of particles, and it's not the particles but the pattern that really matters! Matter doesn't matter." -- Max Tegmark

Idem

#22
 :lulz:  Unless you want gay sexxorz, can't do that yet.

Anyway, I'l have revisions and PART 5 tomorrow, now I feel like playing SimCity 4.

Again, even WITH the revisions, it's more or less a rough draft.

EDIT

Revisions are in bold, will probably make more later though (PART 4)

PART 5 coming up in a bit

Idem

#23
PART FIVE


The next day, I went to my study as usual, but with the presence Darren Smith; we were still working on the viral project.  We thought through things for a while, but we were going around in circles.  He seemed to be suspicious, though; he observed that I wasn,Äôt really trying in the study, and that my full potential had not been reached.  Out of fear, I began actually trying, and only a little while after this something struck me; I was inspired by past studies to develop a certain type of compound that would break down the viral particles, while not destroying any surrounding tissue.  I was about to input the data into the computer terminal, but then the words of Ronald whizzed through my head, and I stalled.  I decided not to even see if it would theoretically work, because the hierarchy would be looking through those files as well.

   Three days passed, and I pretended not to know the cure.  Darren and I went through all other possibilities, skipping around my theory; he knew less than I did.

   ,ÄúDue to your failure, you have been demoted,,Äù the computer terminal said, ,Äúand your allowed credits have decreased.  We know you were trying your best at this, but we feel your mind is not developed enough for higher work.  Keep on, and we are sorry for your demotion.  You will now work on another project; improving upon a pesticide.  You have five days.,Äù

   It was the first time I had kept any scientific ideas to myself.

   I went home sadly, but remembered what Ronald had said, and that my thoughts were my own.

   Two more days passed, and I was working on the pesticide, anticipating the next meeting.  The second night, however, provided something unexpected.

   I was sleeping in my chamber, but I was awoken by a loud clanging at my chamber door.  There were men in black suits, that I could barely make out because of the bright light behind them, trying to get in my chamber.  I panicked, and in this panic, accidentally hit the button on my side.  It opened, and the men grabbed me, and jabbed a needle in my arm.  I was knocked out instantly.

   I awoke in a familiar setting; there was Computer Terminal at the other end of the room, and my lab equipment at the other.  It was my workroom in ChemLab #5.  I stood up and checked the door; it was bolted tightly, and I could not get through.

   ,ÄúGreetings, Joseph.  This is the hierarchy.  It has come to our attention that your devotion to your studies has faltered; we are here to help you with your problem.  We have a problem for you to solve before we continue on; we have a viral problem in District Two.  We need you to help form a chemical that would eliminate this virus, yet not harm any surrounding tissue.  You have one day - today's study day - to complete this.,Äù

Payne

Very deftly handled Idem!

:mittens:

saint aini

Edit Part Four... It's and its are not the same.  Also, you left off an m on them once.

Hierarchy probably should be capitalized because it's begining to function like a proper noun.  Maybe capitalize it only when its agents are speaking or by people convinced of it, while dissidents use lowercase to deny it.
Mary: Let me ask you something.
[Grabs his hand]
Mary: Why are you alive?
John Preston: [Breaks free] I'm alive... I live... to safeguard the continuity of this great society. To serve Libria.
Mary: It's circular. You exist to continue your existence. What's the point?
John Preston: What's the point of your existence?
Mary: To feel. 'Cause you've never done it, you can never know it. But it's as vital as breath. And without it, without love, without anger, without sorrow, breath is just a clock... ticking.

Triple Zero

kinda like pratchett where characters can hear the spelling of others ;-)

i still haven't read this, but i will, promise!
Ex-Soviet Bloc Sexual Attack Swede of Tomorrow™
e-prime disclaimer: let it seem fairly unclear I understand the apparent subjectivity of the above statements. maybe.

INFORMATION SO POWERFUL, YOU ACTUALLY NEED LESS.

Idem


LMNO

In part 5, the word "littler" is odd.  "Less than I did" might work better.

Also, not to influence the plot, but it might be cool if the virus he's refusing to work on is actually a deadly epidemic that's decimating the outside world.

His personal rebellion is causing the suffering of millions, you know?  Great moral dilemma there.

Triple Zero

i read it.

you get :mittens:

and i want more ;-)
Ex-Soviet Bloc Sexual Attack Swede of Tomorrow™
e-prime disclaimer: let it seem fairly unclear I understand the apparent subjectivity of the above statements. maybe.

INFORMATION SO POWERFUL, YOU ACTUALLY NEED LESS.