Hello and welcome to meters pod episode eight. I'm your host D
Mitas. This week we've got two stories for you. The first this
is the way the world begins by CL Holland. CL Holland is a
British writer of fantasy and science fiction and occasional
poet. Her works have appeared in publications such as daily
science fiction, bards, and sages quarterly ruins,
metropolis and writers of the future 25. Her blog and Twitter
can be found in the show notes as well as links to her writing
collection conversations with dragons from which this story
was taken. The story is read to us by rock Manor. Rock Manor is
an entrepreneur and professional voiceover artist and voice actor
whose narrations have been featured on the no sleep podcast
in the tales to terrified podcast, Chilling Tales for Dark
Nights found on YouTube. And he's also a producer of a new
series called Welcome to manor house debuting this month on
YouTube, Vimeo, iTunes and other video sharing platforms. You can
follow him on Twitter at the Rock Manor or you can email him
for business inquiries at Rock Manor house@gmail.com. Here's
our first story
this is the way the world begins. By CL Holland NARRATED
BY ROCK Manor. On the observation deck of the
terraforming ship, life Bringer, Commander Thoreau watches the
surface of the planet below burn on the screens before him.
Flames ride and smoke boils, and sometimes he catches a glimpse
of tall thin figures moving through the destruction without
concern. There the cause of it. After all, he flicks a switch to
change his view. Abruptly he sees one of the 20 foot tall
humanoids walking stiff legged across the screen. This one is
apparently female, breasts and hips are visible beneath the
thin blue fabric that shrouds her. Although having seen the
creatures in the flesh, she's too towering and sinewy for him
to think of her as her. alway interrupting commander. The
voice from the doorway is unfamiliar. But Thoreau
recognizes the man from his picture prefactor kiss if the
man for whom all this is being done, every prefactor aspires to
a planet of his own, after all, thorough salutes, even though
the man isn't military, better safe than sorry, when it comes
to the men with the power to sanction this kind of
destruction. Not at all. perfector I've just been to
visit the handlers. Kiss F says. Fascinating how those people
keep your automatons on the control. They let me touch one,
you know, the female code is a dead fish, her skin. I don't
think she liked me. He shoots there a wink and moves to the
screen to consult the records. Delta has a similar echo system
has cut through did before terraforming. Interesting. I
wonder if it reminds them of home. He grins at Thoreau
returns a weak smile. No plague this time. Don't they usually
wipe out the life before they burned? Yes, sir. Thoreau
gestures at the female figure. The female didn't start a plague
this time. He feels a squirm of discomfort as he adds. This time
they're burning everything alive, but you still have
control. Gesetze gaze flickers from the screens to Thoreau and
back. Yes, sir. One of the males is kneeling. Thoreau flicks
another switch that sends a pulse of electricity through the
pylons that juts from his back. The featureless face raises in
what Thoreau imagines might be a howl in the mail lurches to his
feet. He begins walking again with flame trickling from his
fingers. But we can terraform the planet does normal kissa
Vasques it won't cause any disruption. No, sir. I reported
the anomaly to the amorality, and they advise to proceed as
normal. Once we've completed repatriation or the automatons
to the ship. Sometimes there Oh thinks the Add morality named
him automatons. To make everyone forget that these had once been
free living creatures. They certainly weren't going to call
them Gods as the population of kifaru had done And before their
planet was taken in their gods and slaved prefactor kiss F
nods. Gallery on then sir. Thoreau turns back to his
screens to see the three in a circle looking Skywards. For one
disconcerting moment, he thinks they look straight through the
screen at him. His fingers reach for the buttons to send a jolt
of electricity through each of them and falters. He has never
liked using punishment. The automatons are all too eager to
use destruction once unleashed. Thoreau suspects it's a reaction
to their enslavement. To add more suffering to it seems
unnecessary. The male's kneel and dig their fingers into the
earth. Abruptly the fires die down and leave the planet
surface smoldering. This too is new. Usually they leave the
fires to burn until nothing is left.
Thoreau reaches for the calm to contact the amorality again, but
another alarm sounds before he reaches it. The lights turn red.
Thoreau remembers his training, contamination. Thoreau hits the
button that isolates his control room from the rest of the ship.
But already he's thinking of the environmental systems of
incubation periods of prefactor kiss of touching the female. The
female always starts a plague before the males burn the
planet. When he looks back at the screen, the automatons are
moving again. They walk hand in hand across the ravage surface,
soot, coats their feet. In their wake, he sees things stirring
beneath the ash, shapes unfolding and shaking the dust
from their bodies. Life begins a new, how ironic. He thinks that
we use them only for destruction, and thought to
create life there ourselves. The female pauses as if she hears
his thoughts for a moment. She faces him from the screen. In
this time, he knows she sees him. The featureless flesh moves
in what might be a smile if she had lips. Already, Thoreau can
feel his chest tightening, possibly just fear. But the map
shows red dots all over the ship. As the Environmental
Systems pick up a contamination, it's spreading fast, but then it
would have to to wipe out the whole planets in less than 24
hours. His vision is blurring. Thoreau touches his fingers to
his eyes, and they come away spotted with red. It will at
least be quick amid the flashing red lights and blaring klaxon
Thoreau watches them create life and waits for his to end.
Our second story is Paradise by James valveless. James valveless
is the author of How to Say Goodbye from aortic books. His
poems and stories have appeared and animal science fiction,
daily science fiction, Plowshares strange horizons, the
sun, and many others. His poetry has been featured in verse
daily, his fiction was chosen for the 2013 sundress best of
the net. In 2014, he was awarded a King County for culture Grants
for the Arts, a former US Army soldier, he lives near Seattle,
I'll be narrating a story for you. So without further ado,
here's our second story. Paradise by James valveless. I
finally tracked him down to a small house in the woods, not
far from a lake, not far from a farmhouse. I knew this house or
something like it. I'd imagine one that resembled it many times
when Kelly was still alive. The old couple claimed they didn't
know anything about him. We knew this to be true. He had taken
shelter in a shed where the old man kept his fishing gear and
farming tools. The deserter use that equipment to get
nourishment. The old man had not been out there in some time
because he was ill. The couple did not share what ailment he
suffered from and neither did I ask. It didn't matter. The
couple were unimportant. All that mattered was the land and
the uninvited guests inside their shed. I could not risk any
interference however, so I got the permission to secure the
area to collect the soldier They agreed, but insisted I not
disturb anything. War or no war, the woman said they wanted no
part of the comings and goings of the world anymore. They were
content to live out their lives in peace, peace. Everyone
claimed they wanted it, but only a few were willing to fight for
it. Where did they think the peace they enjoyed came from
mana from heaven. We surrounded the shed. I had snipers up in
several trees and boots on the ground everywhere. Choppers were
on standby, just in case, but still on the ground so as not to
alert the target. Even the river was being patrolled. In case the
deserter decided to try his luck that way. There wasn't any
chance he'd slipped out before we arrived. We had satellite
photos and had maintained aerial visual contact with observer for
two days. Now, he was in there all right. Probably sleeping,
hungry, confused. Yes, confused, especially that he would be
curious. He would have questions. I was alright, I had
some of my own. I stood outside the doorway. Come out, Clark. I
said, we found you. It's all over. I saw the curtain push
back a fraction of an inch and one mechanical I look out, he
would not be able to see all the numbers that were arrayed
against him. But he wouldn't be able to discern upon seeing me
in the small number of other units accounted to 1005. Knowing
if I got there, I'd have to give the order to fire, but did not
even get to 1002 for Clark opened the door and stepped out
into the light. He held out his hands. He was unarmed. I
approached him there was no reason to be afraid. He asked,
How did you find me? Where else would you be? I should have
known better than to think I could outwit my programmer. He
said it's something like humans trying to outwit God. Nobody is
smarter than the Creator. I prefer to think of you as a son,
I said, and me as a father does a Father sent His son off to
war, if he must, does a father lie to his son, I have never
lied to you. Then you lie to yourself. How so? For one thing,
he said, I am not a son. I am a robot, a machine with all the
functionality of a human. I reminded him and all the same
hopes and desires and dreams. No, he yelled, not my hopes and
dreams. Yours implanted in me programmed like this. He waved
his arms around the house, the river, the llamas, all of it,
your dream, your desire, your hope for after the war. That's
how you knew you could find me here or somewhere like here,
because it's your dream. You would not be the first son to
share the same dream as his father. I am not a sun clerk
said Stop calling me that. Everything here is so wonderful.
Everything. But
but I've been to the library in town. I have read the laws. You
know, a robot cannot own property. You know, he cannot
displace a human being from his land. You know, I can never be
anything but a soldier. And now, I am here. And I know why you
dream of a simple life where there is no conflict, no hate,
no destruction. Nothing but the full moon at night and the kiss
of the fog in the morning. But I'm not allowed to have it. So
why program that desire into me why? I saw it and walked to
clerk. All the robots behind me had their weapons drawn, but I
was in no danger. Clark could no more kill me than I could fly to
Venus. He seemed more broken than his programming could
allow. I had not designed this model to be able to cry. Now I
was thankful for that simple precaution. You could not allow
yourself to feel too much compassion for your soldiers.
They serve purposes. They kept us free. They enacted our
vengeance. They suffered for our rare moments of compassion. But
we did not want or need to listen to their poetry. Still, I
cannot say I was not touched. Not one and 100,000 units would
leave the front lines and desert in an attempt to achieve the
promised preprogram dream. He was special, different. I laid
my hand on his shoulder. My finger placed anywhere on his
body would scan my print and shut him down for good as soon
as I released him. A precaution I built into these later models,
in case a rare event like this occurred. I hold on a moment
meeting his eye. It's like this, Clark, I said we can make you
almost you Men, and this adds to your fighting capabilities. But
it also invites several weaknesses. Without such dreams
and desire to be achieved after the fighting is done. Fighting
we all know will never end. Any well programmed robot would not
see the point in fighting. It's a problem that must be gotten
around. And so I programmed into you a dream, my dream, a house,
a river, small herd of llamas, good fishing, wet, overcast
days. Paradise for us. It's paradise. I see. clerk said, Did
you enjoy your time in paradise? I asked. Yes. He said, Yes, I
did. I nodded. And then I released my hand from him and
shut him down forever.
Last year, I got involved with a charity called extra life. We
raise money by having gaming marathons and collecting
donations. I belong to the RDU Guild and last year our group
raised $7,860 for the Children's Miracle Network. More
specifically do Children's Hospital in Durham, North
Carolina. Extra Life as a whole raised over $6 million. That's a
lot of money doing a lot of good for those sick kids. I'm putting
a link in the show notes for this episode, as well as the
link in the sidebar me this pod.com It's a very worthy
cause, and I hope you'll consider donating. And if you're
in the triangle area, and I'd like to become part of the fun,
get in touch and I'll give you the information that you need.
I'd like to thank our senior producer Jay Wolf and producer
Andy Holman for their continued support. If you'd like to
support the show monetarily, please visit
midisport.com/donation We have a monthly support option as well
as one offs. We also accept Bitcoin. If you can't donate,
please at least consider telling friends about us or leaving a
review on iTunes. Our theme music comes to us courtesy of
odd Sprite. You can check out their work at odd sprite.com
Mitas pod is released under Creative Commons Attribution non
commercial no derivatives license. I mean you can share it
all you like just don't change it or sell it. We'll see you
next time folks.