minifidel
02-01-2008, 03:13 AM
As far as first posts go, I'd wager this could be a good one. I'm perpetually bouncing from one project to another, but this is the project which has caught my attention most recently, and I've decided to share the beginning of my sci-fi story for some feedback. So with further ado, Voices, Chapter 1!
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“You don’t speak to us anymore Secov, what happened; do we not entertain you anymore?
“Go away…” Secov mumbled.
“Why would be go, how would we go, we are a part of you. You should embrace us again, like in the good old days…,” the words echoed in Secov’s head.
“Go away…” he repeated.
“We make you smarter, we make you stronger… we make you better, why would you want us to go away?”
“Go… away…” Secov rocked back and forth in his seat, grabbing at his hair and clenching his eyes shut.
“We’ll be back…” the words faded into silence as a puerile laugh rang in his ears, grating at Secov’s Sanity.
“Go away!” Secov snapped and shouted the other people in the shuttle turning their heads to look at him. Shivering, he looked out the window into the black expanse of space, gazing at the stars far in the distance. As he stared at the seemingly infinite universe, he hoped that out here he could escape from his past. In the soothing silence that ensued after his outburst, Secov dozed off.
He awoke, he imagined the next day, by a young woman. Immediately struck by her beauty, he stared lazily at her face as his body slowly began regaining strength. Her eyes were a clear shade of blue, like ice water, soothing and mesmerizing. Her hair was short and dark, curling at the tips and covering her ears. She was smiling warmly, and she held her hand out for Secov as he finally broke his eyes away from her face.
“Ah, so you’re finally awake. The ships been docked for over a week, we were worried you might be dead,” Secov grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled himself clumsily onto his feet. His legs wobbled slightly and he fell several times, as he readjusted to the artificial gravity created by the colony they had docked at. Secov remained quiet as the girl led him out the docking tube into a vast cylinder that seemed to stretch for over a mile. The curving roof supported the taller structures, and the park in front of the exit Secov had walked through hid behind it a second avenue seemingly identical to the one he was standing on.
“Why are there avenues, I don’t see any cars?” Secov looked puzzled from end to end of the street.
“Well, no, there aren’t any cars, but there are bicycles, buses and trolleys. Otherwise, the avenues are just for decoration, although I think they’re considering letting people bring cars up to the colonies sometime in the future,” the girl hailed one of the buses that drove by, and she pulled Secov onto the bus, flashing a card at the driver and sitting down near the back. Secov sat down next to her. After a short while, she spoke again, “I need to take you to the immigration office so that you can go through the typical paperwork. Usually they have a special booth open near the tube, but your case was rather peculiar wasn’t it?” She giggled slightly the continued, “So sleepyhead, what’s your name?” Her disarming smile and mesmerizing stare soothed Secov’s nerves, but he still fumbled his words as he answered.
“Se— Secov, my name is Secov Andrecovich. It’s really nice to meet you… eh…”
“Arielle, Arielle Durey, but please, call me Arie, everyone else does. So, where are you from Secov, that’s an unusual name?”
“Well, originally I’m from Russia, but I lived most of my life in the EU, in Brussels…” as he said the name of his former home, he drifted off and did not even hear what Arie said next. He remembered all of a sudden all that he wanted to leave behind, the war, the terror, the orphanage… them. He snapped back to reality just as the bus came to a stop near a gigantic wall and Arie dragged him off the bus.
“Well, this is as far as I’m going, but inside you need to go to Grégoire Alisée’s office, that should be on the right hand side, and then you’re all set. Hopefully I’ll see you around sometime,” Secov was startled when Arie kissed him on the cheek before dashing towards a bus on the other side of park. Rubbing his cheek softly, he stepped through the door and was awestruck by the immense fresco that lined the walls of the lobby. Inside, they had painstakingly painted a scale version of space, with every known star painted meticulously where it should be. The nebulas contrasted brightly against the black wall and the small circles that symbolized the stars seemed to shine in the light of the room; it was gilded paint. Within this sea of stars, there were two tiny specks of paint, seemingly accidental, but next to each, there was a small label. Kneeling to get a closer view, he saw what the labels said. Next to the larger speck, still barely larger than droplet of blue paint, the label said in bright silver “EARTH”, while next to it, barely noticeable, a small white dot was next to a label that read “VERSAILLES”, the colony Secov was on, and the very first French colony launched into space. Looking around the rest of the room, he noticed a line of doors on the other side of the room, and he walked towards the one labeled with “Grégoire Alisée, Migrations”, turned the doorknob and stepped in.
The room he entered was a violent contrast to the one he had just left: the walls were white and undecorated, the ceiling was low, and the only objects in the room were a single desk put up against the wall and two chairs set up right in front of it. A portly balding man sat at the desk, typing seemingly random keys onto the computer, apparently unaware that Secov had just entered the room. When Secov cleared his throat in an attempt to alert him to his presence, Grégoire spoke without even looking up from the computer screen, “I’m sorry, but I don’t deal with rude people. Now exit my office and try it again,” Grégoire shooed him with his hand, and as Secov left the room before finally knocking and waiting for Grégoire to ask him to enter in his thick Parisian accent, he remembered just how much he hated the French.
Even after Secov had entered the room properly, Grégoire still looked at his computer screen unflinchingly. Clearing his throat one more time, Grégoire looked up at him with a smug grin, and motioned Secov to sit down at one of the chairs in front of his desk. As Secov sat down, Grégoire spoke without waiting for Secov to introduce himself, “Hello monsieur, I am told that you were not present at the original screening because you were asleep on the shuttle. If I may, I will take this moment to tell you that this process is of the utmost importance to ensure that this colony remains secure and running smoothly, and we hope that in any future dealings with you, you consider what you must do before doing what you want to. Please present your French passport and your migration papers and you’ll soon be on your way,” Secov’s heart sank when he heard him ask for a French passport, they hadn’t told him he needed to be French to live in the colony, and his migration papers were issued from French administered Brussels, but not from France.
“Sir, I’m not French so I don’t have a French passport, but I do have my Belgian and EU passport here, and here is my migration papers were issued by the French consulate in Brussels,” rummaging through his bag, Secov pulled out his passport and looked for the papers. Before he could however, Grégoire grabbed his passport, looked at it once, and began rifling through a drawer and pulling out a green form as well as a stamp. Speaking in the same disgustingly friendly tone as before, Grégoire spoke again.
“Monsieur, I am sorry, but you must be a French citizen or a holder of a French passport to live in Versailles Colony. I hope you have kept enough money to buy a return ticket to Earth, and here is a card with enough Credit to buy you a room at a hotel or a good dinner, the choice is up to you. Good day,” with brutal efficiency, Grégoire stamped the green paper he had pulled out of the drawer with the bright red “EVICTED” stamp. Handing the form and the passport back to Secov, Secov snatched them Grégoire’s stubby fingers. Standing up and heading for the door, Secov lost control for a moment and turned around shouting at Grégoire.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through to get here, you have no idea what I escaped from, you simply can’t evict me, I have nowhere to go, no money to get there, no family to go back to, nothing! Please, please, you have to let me stay!”
“Monsieur, I must ask you to calm down and to exit this room. You must have surely been fully aware of the rules, and it is not my fault that you chose to come to a French colony intended for French citizens. Even standing, Grégoire was barely as tall as Secov’s chest, and he gazed into Secov’s eyes unwaveringly, the fake smile gone from his face. Out in the lobby once more, Secov looked up at the ceiling and noticed a gigantic cylinder, a window to the stars beyond. In that darkness, he saw in the distance a comet streaking across the glass sky, and for a fleeting moment, he forgot all that he knew now, and he remembered all that he had forgotten before. He remembered wishing on a shooting star with his mother, who had died when he was young, and her death causing him and his father to leave Moscow and head for Brussels, at the time a part of the seemingly indivisible European Union. He remembered how all of a sudden all that unity, all that peace, had crumbled in a single, catastrophic day, how the French had swept across Belgium in mere hours, and killed his father when he refused to fight. He remembered the days, weeks, months spent in the orphanage, hiding in the corner, wishing for his father to come take him away, wishing for his mother to come sing a lullaby. Years and years of struggling, years of fighting to fulfill his dream at last, flying through the stars to a place where he could finally live a normal, happy life. He remembered years of solitude, his only company—
He remembered when they appeared. All that they had done for him… them…
“Welcome back Secov…” all of a sudden, Secov fainted, the darkness of the galaxy and the blackness of the walls seeming to crash on him in an instant.
---
“You don’t speak to us anymore Secov, what happened; do we not entertain you anymore?
“Go away…” Secov mumbled.
“Why would be go, how would we go, we are a part of you. You should embrace us again, like in the good old days…,” the words echoed in Secov’s head.
“Go away…” he repeated.
“We make you smarter, we make you stronger… we make you better, why would you want us to go away?”
“Go… away…” Secov rocked back and forth in his seat, grabbing at his hair and clenching his eyes shut.
“We’ll be back…” the words faded into silence as a puerile laugh rang in his ears, grating at Secov’s Sanity.
“Go away!” Secov snapped and shouted the other people in the shuttle turning their heads to look at him. Shivering, he looked out the window into the black expanse of space, gazing at the stars far in the distance. As he stared at the seemingly infinite universe, he hoped that out here he could escape from his past. In the soothing silence that ensued after his outburst, Secov dozed off.
He awoke, he imagined the next day, by a young woman. Immediately struck by her beauty, he stared lazily at her face as his body slowly began regaining strength. Her eyes were a clear shade of blue, like ice water, soothing and mesmerizing. Her hair was short and dark, curling at the tips and covering her ears. She was smiling warmly, and she held her hand out for Secov as he finally broke his eyes away from her face.
“Ah, so you’re finally awake. The ships been docked for over a week, we were worried you might be dead,” Secov grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled himself clumsily onto his feet. His legs wobbled slightly and he fell several times, as he readjusted to the artificial gravity created by the colony they had docked at. Secov remained quiet as the girl led him out the docking tube into a vast cylinder that seemed to stretch for over a mile. The curving roof supported the taller structures, and the park in front of the exit Secov had walked through hid behind it a second avenue seemingly identical to the one he was standing on.
“Why are there avenues, I don’t see any cars?” Secov looked puzzled from end to end of the street.
“Well, no, there aren’t any cars, but there are bicycles, buses and trolleys. Otherwise, the avenues are just for decoration, although I think they’re considering letting people bring cars up to the colonies sometime in the future,” the girl hailed one of the buses that drove by, and she pulled Secov onto the bus, flashing a card at the driver and sitting down near the back. Secov sat down next to her. After a short while, she spoke again, “I need to take you to the immigration office so that you can go through the typical paperwork. Usually they have a special booth open near the tube, but your case was rather peculiar wasn’t it?” She giggled slightly the continued, “So sleepyhead, what’s your name?” Her disarming smile and mesmerizing stare soothed Secov’s nerves, but he still fumbled his words as he answered.
“Se— Secov, my name is Secov Andrecovich. It’s really nice to meet you… eh…”
“Arielle, Arielle Durey, but please, call me Arie, everyone else does. So, where are you from Secov, that’s an unusual name?”
“Well, originally I’m from Russia, but I lived most of my life in the EU, in Brussels…” as he said the name of his former home, he drifted off and did not even hear what Arie said next. He remembered all of a sudden all that he wanted to leave behind, the war, the terror, the orphanage… them. He snapped back to reality just as the bus came to a stop near a gigantic wall and Arie dragged him off the bus.
“Well, this is as far as I’m going, but inside you need to go to Grégoire Alisée’s office, that should be on the right hand side, and then you’re all set. Hopefully I’ll see you around sometime,” Secov was startled when Arie kissed him on the cheek before dashing towards a bus on the other side of park. Rubbing his cheek softly, he stepped through the door and was awestruck by the immense fresco that lined the walls of the lobby. Inside, they had painstakingly painted a scale version of space, with every known star painted meticulously where it should be. The nebulas contrasted brightly against the black wall and the small circles that symbolized the stars seemed to shine in the light of the room; it was gilded paint. Within this sea of stars, there were two tiny specks of paint, seemingly accidental, but next to each, there was a small label. Kneeling to get a closer view, he saw what the labels said. Next to the larger speck, still barely larger than droplet of blue paint, the label said in bright silver “EARTH”, while next to it, barely noticeable, a small white dot was next to a label that read “VERSAILLES”, the colony Secov was on, and the very first French colony launched into space. Looking around the rest of the room, he noticed a line of doors on the other side of the room, and he walked towards the one labeled with “Grégoire Alisée, Migrations”, turned the doorknob and stepped in.
The room he entered was a violent contrast to the one he had just left: the walls were white and undecorated, the ceiling was low, and the only objects in the room were a single desk put up against the wall and two chairs set up right in front of it. A portly balding man sat at the desk, typing seemingly random keys onto the computer, apparently unaware that Secov had just entered the room. When Secov cleared his throat in an attempt to alert him to his presence, Grégoire spoke without even looking up from the computer screen, “I’m sorry, but I don’t deal with rude people. Now exit my office and try it again,” Grégoire shooed him with his hand, and as Secov left the room before finally knocking and waiting for Grégoire to ask him to enter in his thick Parisian accent, he remembered just how much he hated the French.
Even after Secov had entered the room properly, Grégoire still looked at his computer screen unflinchingly. Clearing his throat one more time, Grégoire looked up at him with a smug grin, and motioned Secov to sit down at one of the chairs in front of his desk. As Secov sat down, Grégoire spoke without waiting for Secov to introduce himself, “Hello monsieur, I am told that you were not present at the original screening because you were asleep on the shuttle. If I may, I will take this moment to tell you that this process is of the utmost importance to ensure that this colony remains secure and running smoothly, and we hope that in any future dealings with you, you consider what you must do before doing what you want to. Please present your French passport and your migration papers and you’ll soon be on your way,” Secov’s heart sank when he heard him ask for a French passport, they hadn’t told him he needed to be French to live in the colony, and his migration papers were issued from French administered Brussels, but not from France.
“Sir, I’m not French so I don’t have a French passport, but I do have my Belgian and EU passport here, and here is my migration papers were issued by the French consulate in Brussels,” rummaging through his bag, Secov pulled out his passport and looked for the papers. Before he could however, Grégoire grabbed his passport, looked at it once, and began rifling through a drawer and pulling out a green form as well as a stamp. Speaking in the same disgustingly friendly tone as before, Grégoire spoke again.
“Monsieur, I am sorry, but you must be a French citizen or a holder of a French passport to live in Versailles Colony. I hope you have kept enough money to buy a return ticket to Earth, and here is a card with enough Credit to buy you a room at a hotel or a good dinner, the choice is up to you. Good day,” with brutal efficiency, Grégoire stamped the green paper he had pulled out of the drawer with the bright red “EVICTED” stamp. Handing the form and the passport back to Secov, Secov snatched them Grégoire’s stubby fingers. Standing up and heading for the door, Secov lost control for a moment and turned around shouting at Grégoire.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through to get here, you have no idea what I escaped from, you simply can’t evict me, I have nowhere to go, no money to get there, no family to go back to, nothing! Please, please, you have to let me stay!”
“Monsieur, I must ask you to calm down and to exit this room. You must have surely been fully aware of the rules, and it is not my fault that you chose to come to a French colony intended for French citizens. Even standing, Grégoire was barely as tall as Secov’s chest, and he gazed into Secov’s eyes unwaveringly, the fake smile gone from his face. Out in the lobby once more, Secov looked up at the ceiling and noticed a gigantic cylinder, a window to the stars beyond. In that darkness, he saw in the distance a comet streaking across the glass sky, and for a fleeting moment, he forgot all that he knew now, and he remembered all that he had forgotten before. He remembered wishing on a shooting star with his mother, who had died when he was young, and her death causing him and his father to leave Moscow and head for Brussels, at the time a part of the seemingly indivisible European Union. He remembered how all of a sudden all that unity, all that peace, had crumbled in a single, catastrophic day, how the French had swept across Belgium in mere hours, and killed his father when he refused to fight. He remembered the days, weeks, months spent in the orphanage, hiding in the corner, wishing for his father to come take him away, wishing for his mother to come sing a lullaby. Years and years of struggling, years of fighting to fulfill his dream at last, flying through the stars to a place where he could finally live a normal, happy life. He remembered years of solitude, his only company—
He remembered when they appeared. All that they had done for him… them…
“Welcome back Secov…” all of a sudden, Secov fainted, the darkness of the galaxy and the blackness of the walls seeming to crash on him in an instant.