tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59040135068745310772024-03-27T23:53:43.624+00:00Ray Sullivan SciFi ZoneRay Sullivan publishes science based fiction adventures and comedic novellas on Amazon,. He also muses on technology, posts books in serial format and discusses the world of self publishing.Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.comBlogger671125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-63255444164805250802022-09-06T11:13:00.001+01:002022-09-06T11:13:11.451+01:00Surface Duo 2 review<p> Last year <a href="https://raysullivanscifizone.blogspot.com/2021/03/it-takes-two-surface-duo.html">I blogged about the Microsoft Surface Duo</a>. It was in its first incarnation, I hadn't actually seen it in the flesh and, critically, hadn't touched let alone used one. As it happens the first iteration of the Duo didn't fare well - by all accounts it was buggy, had a higher than expected failure rate and the surface ironically didn't pass the test of time.</p><p>Fast forward a year and a bit and Microsoft are selling the replacement, the Surface Duo 2. I've been watching this story develop and reading the reviews for a while. The consensus is that it is a much better device, actually is usable as a mobile phone (or cell phone to those across the pond) including 5G and is better finished. The upshot from several reviewers is that the device is suited to users who are a little bit geeky and quirky. Sounds like me, perfect.</p><p>The launch price was horrendously expensive, but recently Microsoft lopped about £500 off all the models - anything that can be reduced by £500 in one strike must have been overpriced by any definition - and I found on my birthday to be the recipient of a very expensive - even with the lopping-off exercise it's still pricey at just under a grand - Surface Duo 2 - the 256Gb version. My wife also bought me the Surface Slim Pen and the bumper pack - more about those items in a while.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vbfGdVRMkwZxRJkcX7bdy9Y-c2loxFGeql_KTHFghp00IvA96QEYszjT-lGDMWKYHI-W8aVYXKx_ee7L9iSquBtfypKmBO563Ol4QjJZo-Ej6-ovdS5qCUr0Ld-Av1bf44vL2OPeCbsma_RU95TyOYiJCNIL_yk0m7tjgryUN0tw7DwrqgzsSQ/s445/Duo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="376" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vbfGdVRMkwZxRJkcX7bdy9Y-c2loxFGeql_KTHFghp00IvA96QEYszjT-lGDMWKYHI-W8aVYXKx_ee7L9iSquBtfypKmBO563Ol4QjJZo-Ej6-ovdS5qCUr0Ld-Av1bf44vL2OPeCbsma_RU95TyOYiJCNIL_yk0m7tjgryUN0tw7DwrqgzsSQ/s320/Duo.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><p></p><p>One of the things that gave me cause to pause - apart from the price - was the form factor. I've moved from a OnePlus 7T Pro which is tall and slimmish across the front - although broader than the Nord. The Duo is shorter than the 7T, but a tad broader across the hips, plus of course it unfolds into two different screens. Watching the promotional videos on the Microsoft shop it looked to be easy to hold, but deep down I was concerned they might have just used actors with big hands. The only time they showed it being put in a pocket was into a jacket pocket, not the trouser pocket I suspect most of us use for our phones. In use it isn't too big, without any sort of case it slips easily into my trouser pocket and boy, despite having two screens folded into each other, it is slim.</p><p>What wasn't clear from some of the reviews I had read is that it is a dual sim phone - some reviews were very critical that a phone that is aimed at the business user only had one sim slot, a sentiment I would agree with if it were completely true. However, despite only having one physical sim slot it also has a sim chip on board, so can (and does) take an eSim. This is useful for me as my preferred day-to-day carrier, EE, is useless at work. I tend to have my phone turned off when teaching, but accessing it from my desk is a bugbear, so I've installed a Vodafone eSim to give me a number I can use without having to leave the building and making myself contactable while in work. It's an additional £6 a month for the plan, but it's proven useful already. Installing the eSim wasn't as straightforward as the advertising blurb would suggest and eventually it was installed remotely over the home wi-fi by a Vodafone tech, but I suspect the issue was more likely to be Vodafone's than Microsoft's.</p><p>In use it took a few days to get my head around using it. I did the recommended WhatsApp backup and used the built-in utility to transfer my apps and contact details across via bluetooth. Microsoft put a handful of app icons across the two screens and have a couple of folders for the remainder. What wasn't obvious, to me at least, was that the plus symbol above these folders was there to open the full range of apps. Once you realise that you can select apps to appear initially in the folder and, if you prefer, you can drag it outside of the folder to sit on the main screens. One of the apps pre-loaded onto the screen is a calendar app and I was initially disappointed it hadn't dragged my calendar entries across. I was doubly disappointed when it didn't seem to have the ability to set up repeating appointments. Once I found the hidden apps, though, I found my old calendar app that came with all my legacy information. I think it is a OnePlus calendar, but maybe it's a Google offering. Either way, it is now pride of place on the front screen. </p><p>A nice touch - literally - is the fingerprint sensor. I've found these to be unpredictable in use on previous devices. My old HP Windows phone worked most of the time, but would let me down at the least convenient points, and the fingerprint detector on my Surface Pro keyboard is so flaky I haven't bothered to use it for ages - luckily the Windows Hello face recognition has improved tremendously so I tend to frighten my Surface Pro into opening with a glance these days. The fingerprint detector, about 2mm wide, unlocks every time. You only need to use a PIN to unlock the phone when you reboot which, given it's a Microsoft device, appears to be more often than most phones. It might be just me, but I've rebooted quite a bit to resolve small issues. Probably there are more technical solutions available, but turning it off and turning it on again seems to be my go-to these days.</p><p>The bumper pack is a must, in my opinion, and it is irritating that you have to pay £40 for something that is essential. The edges of the screens look incredibly vulnerable without the bumpers and I would recommend anyone considering buying a Surface Duo includes the cost when making their decision. They come in a variety of colours, so I suspect that would be Microsoft's excuse for not including them, but I'm sure that could be overcome with a little simple programming on the sales site software - I'm sure they have access to people with suitable skills. As it happens my wife knows me very well and bought black bumpers to go with the cool black obsidian exterior. They are a breeze to fit - peel off the protective film from the adhesive side and press into place. Well-engineered, they slot into position perfectly and one month on appear to holding their own without any issues.</p><p>Apart from protecting the edges, the bumpers also help overcome the stiction provided by the hinge. Microsoft know how to design a hinge and the phone screens will stay in whatever position you choose to leave them in. The bumpers provide a little tactile grip to the edges which could be a tad slippy without them.</p><p>Microsoft provide a USB earphone set with the phone - the sound is great, and we can't detect any sound leakage in use at home. If you want an input device the recommended extra is the Surface slim pen. Currently discounted by £10, it is selling for £110 on the Microsoft shop and is a super accessory for the Duo. What is stated but not necessarily clear is that most people also need to buy the charging unit for the pen to use it - mine sat unable to be used for nearly a week after getting the Duo as it arrived uncharged and I didn't have any way to charge it apart from ordering a charger, which is another £30 on top. I say most need one - some Surface Pro keyboards including the one provided for the Studio seemingly come with a charger built in, so a small number of purchasers will be able to avoid that charge.</p><p>Is the pen worth £110 + £30 for the charger? It certainly is a neat input device; you can open OneNote with a single click of the top of the pen and then open a page where you can use the Duo as an electronic notebook. A double click takes a screenshot of both screens that you can then edit to include only the detail you need. I don't think I've had my money's worth out of the pen yet, but it's early days and I'm finding new ways of using the Duo daily.</p><p>The device certainly is a smart, head turning piece of tech and I'm keen to keep it looking tidy. To that end I've bought a felt slip case off eBay. The seller tailors the case to include bumpers, if you have them fitted, and a loop for the slip pen that keeps it held tightly. You just have to be clear when ordering what you need. It increases the bulk of the device and makes it snug in my trouser pockets but it also means it won't slip out when sitting down and protects the device generally - I tend to sit the Duo on the slip case when it is out but not on active duty.</p><p>I'm pleased with the Duo so far, one month in, but I'll provide an update probably in the New Year on how it has performed over time.</p><p>---------------------------------------------------------------------</p><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1729128890/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkrn-5T4oN7btCD8SEksn7Cp7XHi1mqoB0bc52hgDI6JjEiihSJNT522aLaE91OR3MphQTcdPPug7LqPuQTxSRfxR-N9VEDBPl0P0z8SJtnsX6ZvQolWOmh0tMTi1tJScJxbRGj2s1k5mNDWlVcPVT0eXbQIxOfEbQGShz-WDc2Z5tg1VDR23OQ/s452/Slide1.JPG" style="color: #3d59b7; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="452" data-original-width="276" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkrn-5T4oN7btCD8SEksn7Cp7XHi1mqoB0bc52hgDI6JjEiihSJNT522aLaE91OR3MphQTcdPPug7LqPuQTxSRfxR-N9VEDBPl0P0z8SJtnsX6ZvQolWOmh0tMTi1tJScJxbRGj2s1k5mNDWlVcPVT0eXbQIxOfEbQGShz-WDc2Z5tg1VDR23OQ/w120-h197/Slide1.JPG" style="border: none; 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margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="377" data-original-width="251" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezFbPoDqCXLI-gkGHMHIW0Sr8sclT3uUaJ98CwijbJALR8iJX7uzpJNWC_VmXuRlQoD3yPm1OYOs19teTGfTvnx2oJNmZruIlMk774N2J1JP_h4xGHszTLMOV09ECQr8jFpF4sJ1K5vi7ku3pkErjEpQowp0Am5dnfS0Z_7E2xuts326v2T7rbA/w128-h192/Slide9.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="128" /></a></div>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-58690898628684080172022-09-05T09:26:00.018+01:002022-09-05T09:37:22.263+01:00Mrs Doubtfire the Musical - review of UK show<p> Given I'm a bit tardy in posting blogs lately, most of you are probably a bit surprised I'm reviewing a musical - tech, sure, Sci Fi books, definitely, but musical theatre? Well, here goes nothing - I've been to see the UK version of <a href="https://www.mrsdoubtfiremusical.co.uk/">Mrs Doubtfire the musical</a> at the <a href="http://manchesteroperahouse.com/">Opera House</a> in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manchester">Manchester, England</a> and accepting I saw the second performance of its one month run I've noticed that there aren't any reviews showing on the web at the time of writing, so thought 'what the hell' and decided to give it a go. I'm sure a professional reviewer or two will write a more definitive review in the days coming, but for those of you thinking of booking a seat and searching in vain for a review, hopefully this will tide you over and, hopefully, inform you as to whether you should make that booking.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2BCLFGvu5e4QSVNuen97rz7jXnaERuMPY2E9uTovRxuE1Ukt7PgNjNeaFBd0wIAeQe-WIBnNBrmExUcUCUwaELz5I1QD-pi8OYwNqyTUZS1zLTczVraFC2qpQ52DAtDiicWxw-EOKOK2upvw-BsBcjHtaaGu788nXAkjcmucFshcsTbWcLzHJA/s397/Doubtfire.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="326" data-original-width="397" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2BCLFGvu5e4QSVNuen97rz7jXnaERuMPY2E9uTovRxuE1Ukt7PgNjNeaFBd0wIAeQe-WIBnNBrmExUcUCUwaELz5I1QD-pi8OYwNqyTUZS1zLTczVraFC2qpQ52DAtDiicWxw-EOKOK2upvw-BsBcjHtaaGu788nXAkjcmucFshcsTbWcLzHJA/s320/Doubtfire.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">First, a little background. The musical launched on Broadway just before lockdown two years ago following a successful off-Broadway run. It performed, I understand, just five performances. Then, like all of us it went into isolation, resuming its run last autumn and closing at the end of May this year. The cast however are all new and predominantly British, which brings me to the first of two elephants I felt might be in the room when I entered the theatre - at least a smallish elephant.</div></span></div><p></p><p>The musical is based on the iconic <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0107614/?0107614">1990s film</a> which was about an American family living in America. Would it be too American? Or would it be crow-barred to look and feel British? In fact, the musical sits nicely on the American side of the coin without being overly American, making gentle nods to British sensibilities - as an example there is a reference to football, not soccer as it would almost certainly be called in the US. The balance is perfect - it's still about an American family in America, as it should be, while making small nudges to make it accessible to British audiences.</p><p>The other elephant, the Boris Johnson nose sized one - is that the musical is based on a film that was iconic when it was made and that has been solidified by the premature passing of <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000245/?ref_=tt_ov_st">Robin Williams</a>, who played the lead. Would I be comparing the performance to Williams' portrayal throughout the show? The lead actor <a href="https://goldenthroats.fandom.com/wiki/Gabriel_Vick#:~:text=Gabriel%20Vick%20is%20a%20British%20actor.%20Beginning%20his,in%20Ralph%20Fiennes%20%27%20The%20Invisible%20Woman%20.">Gabriel Vick</a> certainly captures the zany, energy-laden persona of Daniel Hilliard that Williams defined, but makes the role his own. He doesn't attempt to mimic or parody the Williams character, but hits the stage running, bouncing with an energy that continues right through the show. I didn't see an actor, a singer and certainly not someone trying to be Robin Williams - I saw the character Vick created and owned from the opening scene to the finale.</p><p>This is true of the other actors - brilliant comic timing, great choreography, superb singing throughout. The songs are extremely well written by brothers <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wayne_Kirkpatrick">Wayne</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karey_Kirkpatrick">Karey Kirkpatrick</a> with lyrics that drive the story forward to music that was performed faultlessly. Karey also co-wrote the 'book', the story that drives the musical, with British comedic writer <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_O%27Farrell_(author)">John O'Farrell</a>.</p><p>The sets fascinated me: simple at first glance, subtly complicated in execution they slide in and out, up and down and from the sides every few minutes moving the story from location to location effortlessly. They also provide one of the cleverest aspects of the show - as you may remember Daniel Hillard has to change to be Mrs Doubtfire rapidly in the film, and so it is in the musical. Quick changes are no issue in the film world, even pre-CGI it wouldn't have been that much of a stretch to film the 'quick change' time after time, using the best shots. In the theatre it has to happen in real time, multiple times and the sets are used to allow the audience to view the changes while appearing to shield the characters that shouldn't see them. In a way it is like taking a few bricks out of the fourth wall, making the audience complicit in the deception. </p><p>The actors and dancers work their collective socks off throughout the whole show, with many clever dance routines dazzling the senses.</p><p>As you would hope, there are plenty of laugh out loud gags and running jokes through the set interspersed with lots of visual humour - and the story has been updated to acknowledge that the internet has arrived since the original film to good comedic effect while retaining some of the fun visual routines from the original film - think vacuum cleaners and sweeping brooms, for example.</p><p>You might gather I enjoyed the show - it is witty, energetic, great to watch and to listen to. Would I watch it again? You bet, with my grandsons next time. It is running at the Opera House until the 1 October, and as an aside I'd like to point out the seats in the front stalls are not only comfortable but generous in the leg room department. I wish all theatres would provide adequate leg room as standard. If you are in the UK and can get to Manchester, you should look at booking a seat while the show is running. </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1729128890/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkrn-5T4oN7btCD8SEksn7Cp7XHi1mqoB0bc52hgDI6JjEiihSJNT522aLaE91OR3MphQTcdPPug7LqPuQTxSRfxR-N9VEDBPl0P0z8SJtnsX6ZvQolWOmh0tMTi1tJScJxbRGj2s1k5mNDWlVcPVT0eXbQIxOfEbQGShz-WDc2Z5tg1VDR23OQ/s452/Slide1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="452" data-original-width="276" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkrn-5T4oN7btCD8SEksn7Cp7XHi1mqoB0bc52hgDI6JjEiihSJNT522aLaE91OR3MphQTcdPPug7LqPuQTxSRfxR-N9VEDBPl0P0z8SJtnsX6ZvQolWOmh0tMTi1tJScJxbRGj2s1k5mNDWlVcPVT0eXbQIxOfEbQGShz-WDc2Z5tg1VDR23OQ/w120-h197/Slide1.JPG" width="120" /></a> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYruZVPSBrCKAgVnoYmoHxuB6298WXwyffvfduQSgITTefNMev79gH4x1I9PZxUohd_DsArNdYn1Pj3MyTL_8o2uEReNDtsYHWQKO2u3uuZFmyqpq-QR7hZwTuD3JsVutd2JpWOfIK5Zj-snm0kug4MbsXLQDukRrfjNc44xlLVK7CRODrEU4DGQ/s494/Slide2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="494" data-original-width="323" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYruZVPSBrCKAgVnoYmoHxuB6298WXwyffvfduQSgITTefNMev79gH4x1I9PZxUohd_DsArNdYn1Pj3MyTL_8o2uEReNDtsYHWQKO2u3uuZFmyqpq-QR7hZwTuD3JsVutd2JpWOfIK5Zj-snm0kug4MbsXLQDukRrfjNc44xlLVK7CRODrEU4DGQ/w128-h197/Slide2.JPG" width="128" /></a> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1499240902/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_-fdT6ywSdNCKTKlhXVy0lqTObYWUG5KtDA8wasXc1mr0euUCBuZ2-V5dbORHRgWwmF_qbfEZNGIz1OZfR_b6cALMDD43ecpCVMy99t5EPnfTwz6P1yupMCcqqgNJF5qMoSTq2O1zXAYo1pn4v5hxScjgsGuOI1NoVJPwQV3-7XK7k0s17NNPIQ/s412/Slide3.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="260" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_-fdT6ywSdNCKTKlhXVy0lqTObYWUG5KtDA8wasXc1mr0euUCBuZ2-V5dbORHRgWwmF_qbfEZNGIz1OZfR_b6cALMDD43ecpCVMy99t5EPnfTwz6P1yupMCcqqgNJF5qMoSTq2O1zXAYo1pn4v5hxScjgsGuOI1NoVJPwQV3-7XK7k0s17NNPIQ/w125-h198/Slide3.JPG" width="125" /></a> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1470105020/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwKBe4EcMAi0aK1TejUy0Q_RYmIgEywJBaaxG5ULZj-fWCAVTGsiJDt-8qUzhnVJCH7rHBglqHy4UCYeGxiOdLJ6nUpwT4uSRu03dQriIaWv773r3e52G74mNekrzEDGOK6cycks1IXwYlKsU280xCLUf1ESjAc8bKhJEdeUxWUuJM-xASe7EEQ/s412/Slide4.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="265" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwKBe4EcMAi0aK1TejUy0Q_RYmIgEywJBaaxG5ULZj-fWCAVTGsiJDt-8qUzhnVJCH7rHBglqHy4UCYeGxiOdLJ6nUpwT4uSRu03dQriIaWv773r3e52G74mNekrzEDGOK6cycks1IXwYlKsU280xCLUf1ESjAc8bKhJEdeUxWUuJM-xASe7EEQ/w128-h199/Slide4.JPG" width="128" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1490998756/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QMuLJXYsBqFS9wo-UqAxV7QMGirxOwwhqT-4Mipf_qmrjyJszGUaJZWpUsCs1IpQUenAw8-eLQa285LXnUk3c60jSMbmMOLPpFh2Mpazzrrm4J_hwZzMFvOZt8T8qFNgmDoG8KKihqbeZ9mndxF8NRTlJXIz-UiHYBbAGCd29Ox4nOmBDxkmrQ/s415/Slide5.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="415" data-original-width="264" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QMuLJXYsBqFS9wo-UqAxV7QMGirxOwwhqT-4Mipf_qmrjyJszGUaJZWpUsCs1IpQUenAw8-eLQa285LXnUk3c60jSMbmMOLPpFh2Mpazzrrm4J_hwZzMFvOZt8T8qFNgmDoG8KKihqbeZ9mndxF8NRTlJXIz-UiHYBbAGCd29Ox4nOmBDxkmrQ/w116-h182/Slide5.JPG" width="116" /></a> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B004KABAH8" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="279" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTo6s1zItRQLUZtWY3r2kp4SySwEvOREtxUeneaUWdly0kMAWN9RIIFfHjrDnVhmXuyIURL31b244wBL4ydPnI2E-IHOqovr5g-0FOiIPLZ1bxRP4125KZPFI6pJOYzVC6ZI7FUKN9PBKVJzPH8ivWUtBkkOmzXB_9CQoWJQB94jcUxVmLqTMnHw/w118-h183/Slide6.JPG" width="118" /></a> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1478286881" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="255" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLc1WA4iiei6Vc_n_nqvEPoneu-UF7Kh3dse26Z8SWdDOZA8dMVfLJqdqMd5OZYPidMrc0RkL0Xeup_elj1n4WtSAoVDbIK8DoFmcMCLM0tj_2dPCSYjW9XgZMcrLhV9dslpiqK9rF0nrbA82TeabEv7F6HFLLKwbAjZpNmRDMIY1aK9ZCzgecUQ/w119-h185/Slide7.JPG" width="119" /></a> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1470102781" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="448" data-original-width="294" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgStAdIg8aGnP8h7x-ZnCdb4limzv5Xzrw1tgiazea3iNDDHxRO_dWS4NCYku5KMOrcu7lCwYs2yxZPch8gPP7n9xsTo6YeqlsohpTXFV15js98VxOG5zn1PccNtfKvJaCN1SXPL8-UERHlGWwDRHA9WPIBhopbiVa_kt_8XRiEeXdKDW1eRH6NyQ/w122-h187/Slide8.JPG" width="122" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1470106647" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="377" data-original-width="251" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezFbPoDqCXLI-gkGHMHIW0Sr8sclT3uUaJ98CwijbJALR8iJX7uzpJNWC_VmXuRlQoD3yPm1OYOs19teTGfTvnx2oJNmZruIlMk774N2J1JP_h4xGHszTLMOV09ECQr8jFpF4sJ1K5vi7ku3pkErjEpQowp0Am5dnfS0Z_7E2xuts326v2T7rbA/w128-h192/Slide9.JPG" width="128" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-41994766329845440112021-10-06T21:04:00.001+01:002021-10-06T21:04:38.071+01:00Hotel California available in hardback<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigztWZY89WBskhJyGAjRfHm0W-MZU7hOx4z_F9bNNJn-2Xkj4dr2qxi84-W1ArUT1imPdZoEoSJJBpAfBEJg3hRkgoEEcDw4fbVrtp8WJD4zRuOfxWMB0rE9l5m02RN19kJ2WX_tuDXg/s499/HC+new+front+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="335" height="567" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigztWZY89WBskhJyGAjRfHm0W-MZU7hOx4z_F9bNNJn-2Xkj4dr2qxi84-W1ArUT1imPdZoEoSJJBpAfBEJg3hRkgoEEcDw4fbVrtp8WJD4zRuOfxWMB0rE9l5m02RN19kJ2WX_tuDXg/w381-h567/HC+new+front+cover.jpg" width="381" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hotel California, as the heading suggests, is now available in hardback.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was reviewing my KDP dashboard the other week when I noticed that the part of the book listings that I use to manage the eBook and paperback versions had a new section for hardback books. It turns out it's a beta version and Amazon don't seem to have beaten many drums about it, but it spiked my curiosity.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I used the opportunity to update the cover of the book while preparing a hardcover manuscript - I've chosen a larger page size for the new version and submitted the manuscript. A day or so later it was approved by Amazon and I ordered a copy to look at. Amazon have arranged for hardbacks to be printed in at least four EU countries - France, Germany, Italy and Spain plus the US. The UK currently isn't on the list of hardback printers which I'm putting down to Brexit, but maybe they are going to roll out the capability some time in the future. Who knows?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The book looks and feels great, the quality is superb and, of course, the story is great fun. I'd sold all the paperback copies I ordered when I released Hotel California nearly three years ago and haven't re-read the story since, so over the last couple of nights I've been enjoying reading the book again. I'd actually forgotten some of the twists and turns and found myself smiling at some of the dark humour jokes I slipped into the otherwise fast paced adventure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If you haven't read Hotel California then the hardback version might just tempt you. It also might just be the Christmas present you've been searching for - it's a high quality stocking filler to be sure. Of course you may want to receive a copy, in which case leave this blog post open when your other half is floating around. I'm sure he or she will take the hint.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09GZMK8TZ">Hotel California</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-53187776518644980882021-03-26T22:01:00.005+00:002021-03-26T22:01:59.178+00:00Digital Life Form part 9<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Chapter Three<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">We sat in a greasy spoon cafe somewhere between
Manchester and Liverpool, on a minor road that had been a major trunk route at
some time in the fifties or sixties; its glory gone and used only for commuters
and truckers looking for respite from the major arteries of northern
England.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The driver, who Geek called John, stayed outside
smoking, watching for other arrivals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Inside, apart from Winston, Geek and myself were a couple of truckers
tucking in to plates of grease-ridden sausages, bacon and eggs, their trucks
neatly stowed at one end of the car park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The man behind the counter seemed to be the only staff on duty at this
time of morning and apart from stirring the frying pan occasionally while he
made up our breakfast, seemed more preoccupied with the tabloid newspaper
spread across the counter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I looked at Winston, particularly at the bulge where
he'd pushed paper hand-towels down his sleeve to stem the blood.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'You need a doctor,' I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Got one coming, UNISC guy used to be a medic in the
special forces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'll sort this out.' <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Just a flesh wound, then,' said Geek, concern clearly
kept under tight control.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'I've honestly had worse,' replied Winston, letting
his arm rest casually across in front of him on the table, the torn fabric on
his deep blue suit darkened with blood barely visible to any passing person.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'We'll need to inform the police,' I said, sipping
from the mug of tea Geek had brought back after ordering us all breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek shook his head.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Not worth it, there'll be nothing for them to
investigate.'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'How about two dead men and a smashed up car,
customers of an all night bar traumatised by a shooting and chunks of pavement
torn out by bullets?' I asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston
held his hand up to silence us as the breakfasts were brought over and then
took up the conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Your friend's probably right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our intel about the bar indicates that they
cover up a lot of violent crime generally, it's a popular haunt for the drug
community, especially the middle rankers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There isn't anything that happened this morning that the customers
haven't seen before, not the ones hanging around at three in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Plus, and this is supposition at the moment, if the
guys who followed you and me last night are typical of their breed then they'll
leave no trace of the events.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bar
staff and any customers who stuck around will have been paid off handsomely
unless they refuse the pay off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In which
case they'll turn up in a land-fill, sometime today, probably.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My head churned over.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'What sort of shit are we involved in?' I asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek looked away, left Winston to do the
talking.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'You asked about DLFs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That's the shit we're involved in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It's my life for certain, I don't know about your friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My guess is that he knows about DLFs but you've
introduced him to his first real examples.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Geek looked back but didn't give any clues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'To answer your earlier question, a DLF is a Digital
Life Form, probably alien in origin, a sort of artificial organism.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He paused, possibly for effect, maybe to let
me digest this information or, I suspected at the time, to gag on what sounded
and therefore must smell like, bullshit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Geek decided to pitch in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'You know there isn’t any "probably" about
the origin, Winston,' he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unsurprisingly this didn't help me, and I guess it showed as Winston
pulled us together conspiratorially.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'OK, it's considered to be the case that DLFs
originated from space, from some long lost planet, but the point is that most
now are many generations distant from space origin DLFs.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek took over again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Meteorites have been striking the planet for as long
as it’s been around - you of all people know the planet was created by the
accumulation of dust and space debris from long destroyed stars and planets and
subsequently has continued to be bombarded by this type of material.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As you also know from the Prof's field trips
much of this material is reduced to dust on the way in but occasionally some
survives the process.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'There's a lot of evidence that meteorites originating
from a planet long destroyed has been periodically striking earth, stuck in a
cosmic racetrack around the solar system, occasionally being pulled to earth by
gravity.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much for inter-stellar
one-oh-one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was about to remind Geek
about my first degree when Winston pitched in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'A minority of meteorites contain DLFs but most don't
survive the journey or find the right conditions to thrive if they do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Occasionally they do find the right
conditions, and that's when the fun begins.'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Fun?'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'DLFs use electricity like we use oxygen, materials
such as silicon like we use food, computer code as their DNA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given a power and food source they reproduce
rapidly, creating advanced learning circuits, reproducing through replication
and evolving at a worrying rate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Provide
them with a computer circuit that's powered then they'll modify and adapt the
circuit, change the code that runs through it and hijack its purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Your Sat Nav blended the various technologies that
Geek tried to merge and in the short time it was powered managed to interface
with our world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's why it learned
what it thought was our language - the music you were playing - and hesitated
when running the navigation software.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
swilled my breakfast down with tea while Winston rattled this lot off then put
the mug down carefully before launching into the two men.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'I haven't heard anything yet that explains rationally
what has happened in the last twelve hours: flat being burgled, me being
followed by thugs, people being killed and only me being bothered. Suppose I
believe this DLF nonsense, take it as true - I know as well as anyone that the
chances of such a meteorite landing and finding these "right
conditions" are extremely slim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most will end up at sea or in very remote locations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'But more than that, if such a meteorite did find the
"right conditions" surely we'd be over-run by these things by now? If
the reproduction rates are as rapid as you say then I think I'd have heard
something.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek and Winston exchanged
looks, then Winston took up the explanation again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Taking your last point, Royston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You've not heard about this because you've
never listened, never looked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Try the
internet, you'll find lots there - conspiracy theories, blogs, chat rooms
discussing these things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some are pure
supposition, rumours and guesswork, others are calls to the public to be aware,
to be frightened.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek snorted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Frightened, that's what your lot would have us
believe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because you suppress this, try
to keep it from the public, you help the mega-corporations to exploit it and
us.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston shook his head.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Everyone has benefited from this technology and I'm
the first to admit that it has been manipulated by those companies that have
access to it to make excess profits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
can't undo that knowledge, can't make it right with hindsight, but making it
common knowledge, letting the world know officially isn't the answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The organisations that have this technology
look after it at great expense, guard it closely, prevent others from getting
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My job it to limit the spread and to
police the users.'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Like the Japanese?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You did a real good job there,' sneered Geek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston didn't flinch.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Before our time, a decision made by others in good
faith,' he replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I interrupted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'What decision?'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Winston sighed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Towards the end of the second world war the Japanese
had their backs to the wall, were being pushed back to the land of the rising
sun by waves of Allied attacks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
their fortunes seemed to turn, they were developing technologies that were
giving them an edge in communications, radar and navigation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Special Operations Executive – the
forerunner of the CIA - had reasons to believe the Japanese had acquired alien
technology that was being investigated with little success in Nevada, were
winning a race we'd thought only the US were running in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Of course, back then, we didn't know the technology
was alien; just that exposure to it changed the way electronic devices
worked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Japanese had looked at it
differently, had realised that it worked in a non-random fashion, made devices
work better, do things that they had never been designed to do.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Military intel decided that the technology was being
developed in one of two locations - Hiroshima or Nagasaki, possibly both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rest should have been history, except
that the Japanese had a third location, in Osaka.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the war they continued developing the
technology in secret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually the
world woke up to find a country that had been beaten into submission was now
leading the way, driving the other economies into the ground, wiping the floor
with all comers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cell phone you use
today, the microwave oven, plasma TV set, they all owe their heritage to the
DLFs the Japanese harnessed.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I looked out at the morning drizzle misting up the
window as I crunched all of this information; at the guy who'd driven us away
from flying bullets an hour or so earlier and then at the grey Welsh hills in
the distance, trying to put this into some sort of sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were so many questions that I could
ask, so many answers I wouldn't be able to believe.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'So, Japanese electronic corporations have this
technology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who else?'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Look around you, recognise the main players, the
innovative names, the brands that lead the pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The American, British, Japanese, Korean,
Swedish companies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of these, and
quite a few others, have access to this technology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It falls from the sky and responds well as
long as you feed it with silicon and let it breathe electrons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone with any money wants in on this, it's
the only true measure of being a superpower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anyone wanting to join the club has to find a compliant rock or has to
steal from someone with the technology.'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'So, why aren't we over-run?' I asked, expecting
Winston to answer this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Judging by his
look, he did too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek leant forward.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘DLFs reproduce at an alarming rate, mutating
pseudo-randomly depending on the environment they find themselves in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But their limiting factors are physical space
and their food of choice.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Silicon, you say?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Well, kind of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Pure silicon is no good to them; it’s the minute impurities that only
exist in silicon and similar materials that provide the food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once that’s consumed then the population
starts to die out, begins the passive state. When that’s happened the circuit
is safe to expose to the outside world, to interface with other devices.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t buying this.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘But you’ve just said it’s random, or pretty much
random.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How does that account for
millions of identical cell phones, microwaves and plasma TVs?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek just smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You’re right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Given the same circumstances, materials and opportunities there’s a good
chance that the same circuit will result, but a greater chance that a different
circuit serving a similar or different purpose will be created.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Until the eighties these had to be reverse
engineered using whatever tools and materials worked, the DLF providing a
shortcut design workshop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then someone
realized that this modelled life even closer than we had thought possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The DLF that is found in meteorites is the electronic
equivalent of the primordial slime we’re all supposed to have evolved
from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are many varieties, but all
share certain similarities too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess
that would have been the same of the slime way back, unless just one
spontaneous occurrence managed to successfully populate the planet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Anyhow, depending on which variety is seeded, you
will get quite different results even allowing for the pseudo-random
mutations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time the DLF has
evolved to stability virtually every single element will have the same code as
the rest – it will have iterated to a single design, a digital DNA so to
speak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These stable DLF can then be used
to seed fresh silicon to create a mirror circuit in a replication process that
can see a slither of silicon modified to stability in seconds.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘And that’s where the millions of cell phones come
from?’ I asked, looking at Winston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
dark patch was still growing and he was sweating rapidly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His voice was still very calm though.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Yes, but what your friend either doesn’t know, or is
just glossing over, is that occasionally there is the odd corrupt seed, which
will either make a dead circuit or something that’s workable but different to
the original design.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a problem
because the difference may not be spotted so it may end up in the wild.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Sometimes the mutated seed starts off a new process
completely, taking over any electronic equipment it's connected to, modifying
them, re-writing their code.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it’s
connected to a network it can spread to other circuits, could create a
nightmare scenario that's virtually unstoppable. That's one of the reasons I
have to police this process and stop it proliferating.’ <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘How come that isn’t public knowledge, if some have
escaped into what you call the wild?’ I asked, accusing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston didn’t miss a beat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Over a thousand new computer viruses hit the internet
every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would take a talented
programmer weeks to create an average new virus, perhaps half that for a new
variant on an existing one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do the math;
that implies there are tens of thousands of talented programmers generating
largely worthless code, keeping a similar amount busy finding solutions for
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did you really think there were
that many people working on these things?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>True, some are created by individuals and some are certainly created by
criminals, but mainly they are generated by the DLFs that are floating around
out there, often as a result of people,’ he said, throwing a thumb at Geek,
‘like him.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I was about to ask more questions but became aware of
movement outside as two black limousines swept into the car park, causing John
to become agitated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston followed my
gaze and raised a hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'This is my ride,' he said, standing, 'I expect I'll
be tied up for the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go back to
your flat, wait for me, don't contact anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here’s my number if you need anything,’ he said, slipping me a business
card, ‘I’ve arranged for a back-up car to follow you to the flat,' he said,
leaving the cafe abruptly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned to
Geek.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Is all this for real?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Is Winston really part of a United Nations organisation?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wiped his face with a paper napkin.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘UNISC are real enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They didn’t have to be part of the UN, there
are plenty of other international organisations they could have hidden
behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yes, what you’ve heard today
is more or less true – I have some issues with UNISC, with what they do and how
they do it – but I agree that there are dangers with DLFs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t agree with driving the subject
underground, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One thing Winston
did say that was true is that the guys we met last night are a dangerous
bunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rewards of being a main
player in this game are fantastic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
must admit, when you handed me a DLF in that bar it was all I could do to sit
there and talk, I wanted to run like hell with it, to get it home, test it.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘To make your fortune?’ I asked, wondering whether I
should be bothered by this, by Geek potentially seeing me as a route to riches
and failing to mention that I’d passed him a goldmine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shrugged nonchalantly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The thought did cross my mind, but to be honest I was
more interested in seeing a DLF at close range.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Once I got out of the bar I took it home as fast as I could so that I
could hook it up to a power source.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
stood up, pushing the plates into the centre of the table with a sweep of his
hand, ‘let’s see what sort of game Winston is playing.’<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: -35.45pt; margin-right: -31.15pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm -31.15pt 6pt -35.45pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420" style="color: #3d59b7; text-decoration-line: none;">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 10 soon. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-34770189764470509902021-03-20T10:32:00.001+00:002021-03-20T10:32:11.423+00:00Digital Life Form part 8<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Atkins growled as he saw the
three men pile out of the bar amid the sounds of gunshots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned the ignition key and cursed when
the engine didn’t start but kept the starter motor turning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Richards slipped his seat belt off and
gripped his pistol firmly, ran his thumb over the safety catch, ensuring it was
set to off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Want me to follow on foot,
boss?’ he asked, reaching for the door release as the engine fired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The spinning of the wheels was sufficient
answer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Follow me, run,' Geek shouted
as he sprinted to the edge of the car park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I heard the watching car's engine fire up and the wheels spin on the
rough gravel, heard the sound of Winston's sixty year-old breath as he rasped
and wheezed in our wake, heard his footsteps as he kept pace with us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The sound of the car was
closing. I didn't look; I just heard the engine roar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the end of the car-park we reached a three
foot high concrete wall forming a boundary above a dual carriageway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To our left was a steep embankment, sparsely
grassed and sporadically seeded with young trees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston caught up and turned towards the car
bearing down.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Run to the left and get down
the embankment, I'll hold them off,' he said, pointing his pistol at the car.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Don't be a fool,' shouted
Geek, slipping over the edge of the concrete wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hesitated, my heart pounding and senses
tingling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston was standing bent
kneed, facing the approaching car, sweat beading on his face, concentration in
his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shuddered as he squeezed off
a shot, shook as the screen of the car turned opaque, panicked as the car
started to slide in our direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
grabbed Winston, heard him yelp as I pulled at his wounded arm, and dragged him
to the edge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Over the other side I could
see Geek tumbling down the incline, out of control, illuminated by the orange
street lamps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pulling Winston I fell
over the edge, sensed him fall after me, felt the ground pound against my
skull, shoulders, hips and legs then start over again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to steer myself but the fall was
uncontrolled, gravity and shale dictating my speed and direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point Winston overtook me, then I
passed him as he managed to dig a leg into the ground, showering us both with
dirt and grass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His hand caught my
jacket, not for long but sufficient to slow me down enough to stop me rolling
straight out onto the road below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
paused at the bottom, on the pavement, panting for breath while supporting
myself on my cut hands and torn knees. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">From above I heard the car
slam into the wall, followed by the sound of rubble rolling down the
slope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Almost immediately I heard one of
the doors creak as it was flung open and grunts from the occupants as they
struggled out of the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stared
absently at the ground in front of me, dazed and confused, unable to comprehend
the meaning of the tarmac surface exploding in front of my face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston and Geek cupped their hands under my
armpits, dragging me up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'They're firing at us,'
shouted Winston, pulling me forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
staggered under his and Geek's direction towards the underpass, hearing the
report and the ricochets of the bullets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Within thirty seconds we'd rounded the corner and gained shelter from
the attackers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We slowed down
spontaneously, three men dragging cold breath in voraciously, clinging to each
other bonded in an event as frightening as any of us could ever imagine.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Atkins swore softly, his
Southern drawl smoothing the venom.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Fuck them,’ he said,
holstering his pistol, turning to look at the car, assessing the damaged
wing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Richards jogged back to the car,
having been intercepted mid car park.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Bellonski and Johnson have
bought it,’ he said, looking back at the club doorman stood in the middle of
the car park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Locals aren’t too happy with
us; reckon we’d better get the fuck out of here pronto.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Atkins thought briefly about facing them
down, he had some decent firepower in the trunk and, what the fuck, they were
his employees that had been killed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
then again they weren’t his highest priority; perhaps he’d just send flowers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Looking back at the bend he’d
watched the three men run down he followed the concrete path of the flyovers
and intersections just beyond.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Get in, let’s see if we can
catch them,’ he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'We need to keep moving,' said
Winston, urging us forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We broke
into a jog, approaching a bend in the road, feeling the dawn mist spread across
our faces, cooling us down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Then I saw the arc of lights
spreading across the road, heading towards us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We pulled up and soundlessly started to look for cover, but to no avail
as the car swept around the bend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Winston started to pull his pistol out as the car slammed on the brakes
and pulled up alongside, doors flung wide.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Geek pulled Winston's arm down.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Don't shoot, he’s with me,'
he said, pushing me into the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Winston piled in alongside me while Geek jumped into the passenger
seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within seconds we were hurtling
away from Manchester, chasing the dawn rising in the east.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek turned in his seat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'What a mess,' he said to me,
'you must have loads of questions.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
shook my head, pulled my hands over my face.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Only one,' I said, 'what the
fuck's a DLF?'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Daily Telegraph, Monday 17th August<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Shots heard in Manchester Suburbs<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Gangland rivalries were
reported to have erupted last night after a four month period of relative calm
when gunshots were heard at around three in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Manchester’s Chief of Police expressed
disappointment that his year-long campaign to outlaw gangland killings by
taking a zero tolerance approach to firearms offences had been threatened.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘According to officers who were
on the scene within minutes there are no indications of casualties,’ he told
this newspaper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘It’s usually kids
posturing; firing rounds off to impress their peers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will review the community approach this
morning and target the vulnerable elements of the district.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Five people have been shot
dead in the Manchester suburbs in the last twelve months, mostly believed to be
drugs related.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420" style="color: #3d59b7; text-decoration-line: none;">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 9 soon. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-8008134581595639032021-03-17T19:12:00.000+00:002021-03-17T19:12:59.522+00:00Digital Life Form part 7<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Chapter
Two<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Atkins looked through the
misted up screen, watching the entrance to the club, saw the thin man with the wispy
beard hair talk to the bulky doorman, slip him a note.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pressed his earpiece while he keyed the
mic.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Bellonski, I think you have a
third coming in, looks like the guy they call Geek,’ he said, lowering the
mic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a pause Bellonski replied.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Got him, he’s looking around,
focussed on the black UNISC guy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yup,
that’s him, do I intercept?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Watch and wait, Bellonski.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is Johnson in position?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The earpiece crackled momentarily.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I’m round the corner, in case
they try to leave by the back entrance, I’m keeping my<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>eyes on a couple of drug dealers who could
cause trouble if they think we’re feds,’ intercepted Johnson, thinking
practically, his New York detective background coming to the fore.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Atkins wiped the screen a
third time, watched the taxi that had dropped off Geek drive away.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I never expected Geek to
agree, let alone show up, but I found myself backed up against a wall away from
any main light fittings in our usual bar on the edge of Manchester several
hours after the time I usually finished drinking, sat with a trigger happy
American facing the door and the bar where I usually sat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My stomach was churning over at the memory of
the gun pointed at me, wondered how I’d become involved in something that
evidently involved violence just because I collected rocks for my boss and
borrowed tech gear from a friend.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Winston had provided the
transport and the drinks, having ruined another single malt, and appeared to be
quite relaxed with the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wondered if he had any back-up, a support team quietly ruining the full gamut
of British drinks in the various dark corners of the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Geek joined us half an hour
after the time we'd agreed, pulling a chair around so that he could also watch
the door.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'So, the famous UNISC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I expect you're here because of the Sat Nav,'
he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I interrupted before Winston
could answer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'You know about his lot?' I
asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek nodded, Winston settled
back, his answer now parked.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'We've crossed paths previously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We're both chasing the holy grail of
technology, for different reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots
of people are, some with more success than others.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned to Winston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>'Don't worry, it's safe, not connected to any
networks, kept alive with a trickle charge.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'I'll need to take it and
anything you've infected with it,' said Winston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek shook his head.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Never going to happen, I
didn't come here to hand over the DLF, not to some washed up Federal agent,
anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I must have raised my
eyebrows, dropped a jaw or something because suddenly Geek remembered I was
there. 'This is the infamous Winston Grace, the unluckiest Fed to ever cross
the NSA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His reward for trying to do the
decent thing and bring some over-zealous technophobes to book was to end up
serving a backwater organisation charged with saving the planet from itself
with no resources and very little support.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘He and a guy I’ve met once or
twice witnessed the massacre of twenty-odd roughnecks in a desert outpost a
long time ago, found themselves working together to save the world until one
saw the light and Winston didn't.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'You know Maurice Sands?'
asked Winston, 'how's he doing?'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Pretty good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like you, he can't retire.'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Should've stayed with UNISC,
he'd have had a good living.'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'He's not done too badly,
better than on the UN payroll.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure the
Secretary General's not on a bad number, but at your grade?'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt sure Winston pulled a face, which was
better than the gun I expected, but it was fleeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn't know then, didn't know for a long time,
that Winston had done more than sacrifice a career and a salary for this vague
UNISC role but had effectively sacrificed all the things that complete most
peoples' lives: family, stability, safety and security.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this time all I knew was that he was a real
tidy burglar and armed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'The Sat Nav,' he said,
reminding me that he also had a highly consistent method about him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'He'll suggest that it's not a
good idea to fuck with him in a minute,' I suggested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek didn't flinch.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">'Look, you're not going to get
away with pulling your gun out on me in here, and if you think I was going to
walk in without marking your watchers with our own people then you're very </span>naïve<span style="font-size: 12pt;">.'</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'I agree about the gun, you
Brits are a little sensitive about those things, but your markers are wasting
their time, I didn't bring any backup.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Geek reached into his pocket and pulled out an iPhone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Bluetooth video link to the
bar's security cameras,' he said pushing a few on-screen buttons, 'wave to
yourself,' he added, handing the device to Winston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I leant across and saw the three of us sat
against the wall looking up at the security camera behind the bar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek took the device and pressed a button a
couple more times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>'Now look at the rear
exit,' he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I recognised the car park straight
away, virtually empty this time of the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Winston's car sat near the camera, condensation steaming up the front
screen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few feet away sat another car,
also misting up, but this time from the inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A hand appeared and raked away a clear patch; it was clear that there
were two men sat inside the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston
looked up, worried.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Not mine, I travelled alone
tonight, I don't have any back up, didn't feel I needed any.'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Well two cars pulled up at
the same time as you arrived, these jokers and another car out of shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The occupants of that car are in the bar now
- one over there in the blue jacket nursing a drink, the other around the
corner watching our reflection. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You sure
they're not with you?' asked Geek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Winston shook his head and nonchalantly glanced across at the man at the
bar while raising his drink to his lips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He didn't drink, but used the glass to shield him as he spoke rapidly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'He's got comms, high end
stuff, ear-piece virtually hidden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looks
calm and collected, taking in way more than you might think,' he said, lowering
the glass and looking across at me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shrugged;
the guy looked like I expected any guy to look at three in the morning in a
Manchester bar, looked pretty much like I expected I looked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek didn't even turn.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'We're ready to jam his signal;
we'll hit it just before we move.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
saw my look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>'I'm not staying around
here with these goons breathing down my neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I agreed to come here because your friend Winston would know I come here
- it's a sacrificial location.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, I
wanted to know who he'd drag along, to see how important you are to him.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston pitched in, shaking his head from
side to side.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'I told you, they're not
mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And to be clear, Royston isn't
important to me, the rock and the Sat Nav are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don't wish him any harm, though, nor you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my guess is that while you two hold
access to the rock and Sat Nav there’ll be people who'll be way less concerned
about your safety.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If this impressed
Geek it didn't show, he just wandered away from us towards the bar, leaning
forward trying to catch the barman's attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It had impressed me, though, coming from the stranger who'd burgled my
home, lain in wait for me and had practically marched me to the bar at
gunpoint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he was someone concerned for
my well-being then God help me from the ones who weren't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘How much shit are we in?’ I
asked, not getting an answer from Winston who was now watching Geek like a hawk
as he gesticulated, apparently drunkenly, at the barman. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly the man in the blue jacket put his
hand to his ear, a furrow crossing his brow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Geek turned and waved to me, indicating that we should leave, pointing
to the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The man at the bar stood, cupping
the hand over his ear, turning to follow Geek and myself as we started walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He found himself face to face with a bouncer
from the pub, who blocked his exit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
backed off a pace and made a dummy turn back to the bar before swinging back
with a strong left hook, catching the bouncer square on the jaw, snapping his
head smartly to the side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bouncer
pulled his head back rapidly and reached for the man, missing him by a fraction
of an inch as he pushed back, reaching inside the blue jacket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Winston reached for his own pistol
as the man in the blue jacket slid the matt black shaft of his silenced weapon
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked back as we pushed through
the door into the cold night to see the bouncer double over as two muffled
shots tore out of the back of his shirt, then saw the blue jacketed man’s head
explode in a mist of pink blood and brain tissue as Winston double tapped him
noisily, saw the silenced pistol slip to the ground from the hand extending
from the blue jacket.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Outside, retching while running,
I heard another muffled shot, then a louder one followed by a pained shout. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston bowled out of the door, a dark patch
forming on his right arm above the elbow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Geek pulled me hard, dragging me away from the bar into the near
deserted car-park where a few minutes earlier I'd watched two men sat in a car,
staking us out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420" style="color: #3d59b7; text-decoration-line: none;">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 8 soon. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p><div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-75732782010756213412021-03-11T08:54:00.002+00:002021-03-11T08:54:22.261+00:00Digital Life Form part 6<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So, where is the rock?’ asked
Winston.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘In the faculty store, in the
sterile safe, awaiting analysis.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘But you said…’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘It’s a wasted sample, may not
even be a meteorite, don’t know what grid reference she got it from, don’t
expect Prof asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he wanted it in
the sterile store so that’s where it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The nature of the storage is such that each sample is isolated from the
others, there’s no way this sample can contaminate the others.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So, how do I get it?’ asked
Winston.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The rock?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ask the Prof in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you rush you can break into his office and
greet him when he comes into work. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
won’t give it you, of course, but at least I’ll get my flat back.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston mulled this over but didn’t
comment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually he changed tack.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘What about the Sat Nav?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘What about it?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understood the old guy’s point about not
fucking around with him but I was really struggling to understand why he was
interested in these two specific items.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘OK, where’d you get it from?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Geek.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The guy you met in the bar
two nights ago?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started to remember
Winston from that night – not enough to recall him sitting quietly sipping
ruined malt whisky but enough to confirm I’d met him before.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Yeah, him.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘What can you tell me about
him?’ he asked, relaxed, gently probing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somehow I didn’t mind his style, not intrusive despite his violation of
my home.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Geek’s possibly my best
friend, yet I actually don’t know that much about him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t know where he lives, what he does for a
living, what his real name is.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘He’s one of these guys who can
turn his hand to any technology, make it work, modify it to make it do things
it wasn’t designed to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As far as I
can tell he must spend most of his time scavenging in scrap yards – I think
there’s a new-age component in Geek’s make-up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I seem to recall he mentioned spending some time in the army, in
Germany.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s where he learned about
computers and probably where he picked up his anarchic attitude to software
ownership.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He says that if you can hack
it, it’s yours.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘We meet up for a drink every now
and then, often so he can show me his latest toy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I road test stuff for him,
sometimes he gets stuff for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s
where the Sat Nav came in.’ Winston put his fingers together, made a steeple.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Go on,’ he said. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I’d asked him if he could get
me one, some time ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I travel around a
lot on field trips and I’m crap at navigation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The trip to Herefordshire kind of forced the issue as I had to find my
own way down there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called his mobile,
he said he could get it working and let me have it for the trip as long as I
didn’t mind it being a bit rough and ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We met in the usual bar, Geek running late as usual.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Geek slipped the supermarket
bag on the bar, pushed it my way and picked up the pint I’d had waiting for him
for nearly half an hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d nearly
finished the pint by the time I’d opened the bag and fished out the device.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Careful, it’s held together
by sticky tape,’ he said, finishing the pint and flagging the barman to order a
refresh for the two of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the pints
were being pulled he told me a little about the Sat Nav.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘It’s an old model I picked up,
low on memory, battery knackered and street maps from before the blitz as far
as I could tell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Screen was a bit ropey
too, but not much of a problem as they are cheap to replace in devices like
this.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You bought parts?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek looked offended.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Of course not, but because
replacements are so cheap people are throwing away perfectly good items all the
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bit I really like is the voice
recognition; I grafted it on so that you can teach it to understand your
instructions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably not the first Sat
Nav that allows you to talk back and it take notice but I reckon you’ll only
get that in top end machines.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned
the device around in my hands, it looked like it had come through a couple of
wars: Geek wasn’t kidding about the sticky tape, either.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So I can train it to
recognise keywords, like training the hands-free on my mobile?’ I asked,
wondering whether this was a layer of complexity for very little benefit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek shook his head.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I’ve taken the processor out
of a portable dictation machine that converts normal speech into ASCII
code.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s a bit trick and I wouldn’t
have liked to work it out myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Normally that code is fed into a word processor and ends up as a document.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bit I’ve done is to parse this
information so that not only can you train it to find places by post-code,
city, town or even street name from its database but also that you can train it
to understand natural spoken language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So you might want to tell it you’re ignoring a recommended turning and
it will immediately realise that it shouldn’t be constantly telling you to turn
around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most units work out eventually
that you’re ignoring their advice and recalculate, but this one lets you tell
it from the start.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So it’s ready to roll?’ I
asked, wondering how I turned it on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geek
took it out of my hands to point to the few operable controls.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘It’s not perfect yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will need to train it a bit – I’ve left
some instructions in the bag – and I don’t have a power supply for the
replacement battery I grafted in yet so you’ve got about five hours’ worth of
operation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least that’ll make sure
you return it,’ he said grinning.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I didn’t bother with the unit
until just before I left for Herefordshire, mainly so I didn’t run the battery
down, partly because I had some trepidation. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wedged the unit in my windscreen on top of a
road atlas as the irony of the manual back-up seemed too good to miss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Making the voice recognition work was harder
than Geek had implied but I’d promised to give it a good go and ten minutes
after starting to use the unit it recognised my speech well enough to let me
enter the post code of the pub the Prof was waiting in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The maps Geek had swiped to replace the
original were bang up-to-date but problematical as the SD card they were stored
on kept popping out of the card slot, but eventually I found myself heading out
of Manchester en route for Herefordshire.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">By the time I reached my
destination the battery was indicating half depleted, maybe more, but I wasn’t
too concerned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only needed to find my
way back to the motorway from the village, because then the return journey
would be simple.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So no problems with the
equipment?’ asked Winston, flicking the file open and scribbling on a blank
page.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Any problems with the car?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘It’s an old car, best I can
afford given the meagre salary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure it
misses the odd beat but nothing untoward.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘But when you gave the Sat Nav
back to Geek…’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Ah, that was after the return
journey.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Like the rest of the team I
crashed pretty early but unlike them I rose way before breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I settled my bill and cleared the room before
the others came down, mainly because I didn’t fancy spending the day with one
or more as a passenger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured I
could be on the road long before any of the others turned to.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Winston turned the page
towards a closely typed sheet of text.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Quite the loner, apparently.’
He observed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Not the closest human, I
grant you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t mind company, just
don’t crave it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there's the
professional gap,’ I offered.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The one your professor seems
to ignore,’ Winston noted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Continue,’
he said, not looking up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The morning roads leading from
the village were complicated and winding and the Sat Nav didn’t seem as assured
as it had on the way down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t
put my finger on anything with any certainty but I felt like it, well,
hesitated on some turns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I wasn’t concerned, it was a
fine morning, the sun was beating down, warming up the day nicely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just seemed that I was going to need the
road atlas wedged under the Sat Nav after all.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Eventually I reached a
junction and realised that the sound of the rushing wind coming in through the
open window had caused me to turn the music up gradually as I’d driven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cessation of road and wind noise as I sat
at the junction, coupled with the deliberations of the Sat Nav, now made the
music sound louder than I usually had it and when the instruction to turn left
eventually came I struggled to hear it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I guess I was becoming less and less confident in the ability of the
equipment to navigate me to the motorway anyway and was correspondingly more
sensitive to the disembodied words advising me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Turning down the music allowed me to concentrate more fully, to allow me
to choose whether to revert to good old fashioned map reading or to continue
with Geek’s toy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s when I heard
the music.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Music?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What kind of music?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You ever hear of a band
called the Electric Light Orchestra?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Winston showed mock surprise.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘ELO?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You kiddin’ me?’ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were one of the biggest bands Stateside
when I was a young buck in the late Seventies, early Eighties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What about them?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I’d been listening to one of
their tracks, Mr Blue Sky, just before I turned the CD player sound down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tell the truth I’d listened to the track more
than once on that return journey as it has a real good vibe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know, sun cracking the slates, wind in
your hair, good music on the stereo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just kept playing it over and again.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So the CD player is turned
down but I can still hear the tune.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
like a recording, but like a mimic, odd words correct, others incorrect or
missing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tune was there, sort of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I checked the stereo but it was turned as low
as it would go, I even ejected the CD but the music continued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christ, the Sat Nav was singing ‘Mr Blue Sky’
to me!’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston sat motionless, his pen poised
in mid sentence. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'So, what did you do?'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Turned it off, found my way
home the old fashioned way, gave Geek the Sat Nav back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He's going to look at it to find out what's
going on.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston pondered for a
moment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'So the rock's locked away and
Geek's got the Sat Nav?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How do I contact
Geek?'<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'You don't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a number he sometimes answers, usually
doesn't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tells me he only picks up if
he knows who's calling and only then if the time's right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He's a bit weird but those are his
rules.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston raised his voice a
fraction, enough to make me realise how forceful he could be.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'For the last time, don't fuck
with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to speak with this man
and I need to do it soon,' he said, sweat bubbling on his forehead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gave him Geek's phone number and he tried
it, without luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He then walked into my
kitchen and spoke quietly on his phone for a few minutes before returning and
holding me with a stare.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">'Your friend's off the scale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If that number you gave me is correct then
there's no record of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need you to
call him on your mobile.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must have
smiled too readily, I didn't get the chance to explain that I had absolutely no
intention of leading my friend into a trap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Then I saw the handgun.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420" style="color: #3d59b7; text-decoration-line: none;">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 7 soon. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p><div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-69892895904100949592021-03-10T15:36:00.000+00:002021-03-10T15:36:39.033+00:00Paramyotonia congenita what?<p> I'm asked on occasion what the heck is the condition that Maurice Sands is afflicted with and is introduced with in Digital Life Form, which is being serialised on this blog. Is it made up? Is it just there as a convenient plot line?</p><p>To take the final question first - virtually everything in a novel is a convenient plot line - anything that doesn't assist with the story, doesn't have a job to do, is just reading practice. You can get that with the tabloids, This is fiction - but I guess you can get that with the tabloids, too.</p><p>It's a very rare disorder that presents differently in different people but typically the onset of cold triggers it and exercise aggravates it, so flexing cold hands to stimulate blood flow and make them move easier tends to result in hands that seize up. I have a friend with the condition: her siblings have it too as does some of her cousins. They all seem to present differently and that, along with the rarity of the condition, seems to affect the timely diagnosis and treatment of the condition.</p><p>The cold is an issue - we're talking about the UK version of cold, the one that only sees temperatures below zero Celsius (32 F for those still using the 'other' lay scale) infrequently so it doesn't have to be terribly cold to bring on problems. The inability to hold car keys, carry shopping bags or drive are amongst some of the limitations. Don't even bother offering an ice cream when it warms up, either - that can cause the tongue to seize up. Actually it's quite funny, so perhaps offer the one ice-cream but don't push your luck.</p><p>Maurice turned into the character he is very quickly - you just know he is a germaphobic, solitary type of person with his own individual slant on life. He got dragged into the world of DLFs (Digital Life Forms) working for the international community following the incident in the Mojave Desert described in the prologue, but like public servants everywhere decided to try life on the other side of the fence. Hell, that was written before the austerity years, let alone whatever the UK Government is going to call it this time around. I guess public servants have been poached for what and who they know for ever.</p><p>We're not going to see Maurice again for a while but, like his condition, unfortunately, he's not going away.</p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paramyotonia_congenita">You can read the Wikipedia page on Paramyotonia congenita here</a></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-57146481908679160952021-03-10T08:29:00.000+00:002021-03-10T08:29:53.844+00:00Digital Life Form - part 5<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Chapter
1<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The first time I met Winston I
hadn’t realised I’d met him, not until the time he turned up unannounced,
uninvited at my flat and had let himself in, in my absence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was to remind me of the that first time,
in the bar in Manchester where I often met up with Geek, whenever Geek wanted
to pass me his latest toy for testing or just to pass the time and many pints
of real ale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I guess I had been vaguely
aware of Winston in that bar, his ebony skin fading with age, the short cropped
grey hair and the mellow American accent, but I’m a bit of a people watcher by
nature and would notice someone like that sat at the next bar stool sipping a
good single malt ruined with ice anytime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I would have noticed a lot of other people that night as well while I
sat waiting for Geek to turn up but it’s now quite a long time ago and as
no-one’s chosen to remind me of any of them it remains only Winston that I
remember.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I do remember being quite excited
as I supped my beer, watching the door in the mirrored back of the bar, waiting
to tell Geek about the strange events that had started to occur since we’d last
met.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Geek finally turned up he sat
and drank beer, gloated at the parts that he could attribute to his superior
skills and frowned at the bits he couldn’t explain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took the package away and promised to
check it out, find out why it worked the way it did and we went our separate ways,
him turning left out of the bar and me turning right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess the transfer of the package went
unnoticed in the hurly-burly of the bar because I now know that Winston also
turned right, about ten paces behind me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Two nights later I returned
home after dark, abandoning the car badly on the kerb outside the Victorian
house converted into flats shared mainly by students from the earth science
faculty and one, mine, occupied by only myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Such are the privileges of being a post-graduate lecturer-cum-wannabe
PhD with an aching desire to lie on the beach while sipping long cool alcoholic
drinks in the Caribbean. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately,
I was just about managing to service my aging student debt and affording to
rent a flat by myself instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Admittedly my other needs are limited to inexpensive meals learned as a
student to eke out a meagre income and copious amounts of beer at the pub whenever
Geek found the time to partake of a draught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The rest of my time is spent lecturing first year undergrads, carrying
out my post grad research into igneous rock formations and pandering to Prof Andrews’
many pet projects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">It was one of those projects
that started the chain of events that led to my walking in, turning on the
light and finding a near stranger sat in my easy chair with a manila folder on
his knee.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The feelings that ran through
me over the next few seconds ranged from outrage and indignation through to
outright fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old man sat casually
opposite me showed no fear or concern, he looked like he believed he had the
right to sit there in the middle of my flat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He nodded once towards the door and, when it was clear to him that I
didn’t have the ability to read his mind, he spoke quietly in that soft, dark
voice I was about to get to know.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Close the door, Royston,’ he
said, looking down at the folder, flicking the front open to reveal a
photograph of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked like my
passport or student union photo, but blown up several times, pixelated edges
rendering my image into a good but not exact approximation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked back up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Where’s the rock?’ he
asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shut the door carefully and
looked around my flat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked
undisturbed, as tidy as I’d left it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘What rock?’ I asked back.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The one the girl gave you, in
the woods near Hereford four nights ago,’ he answered levelly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘And where is the Sat Nav?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I reeled, only a handful of people knew I’d
been on one of Prof Andrews’ wild goose chases near Hereford, and even fewer
knew that I’d been approached in the dark by a teenage girl, one of the
university party, with a rock, as Winston called it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Sat Nav was something only Geek and I
knew anything about, not because it needed to be a secret but because it was a
favour from a friend that had worked differently to expectation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I had any friends other than Geek then I
expect I would have mentioned it to them, but I don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat down opposite the quietly spoken
intruder, pulling a chair from the dining table in the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I can answer these questions,
but I don’t know who you are or why you’ve presumed to enter my home without
permission,’ I said, adding, ‘more importantly, I’d like to know what you need
the information for and how you’ve come to have a file with my photo on the
front.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat back, watched the American
closely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The question I didn’t ask was
why he needed those two specific pieces of information as the only link between
them was temporal, as far as I could tell.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘OK, Royston, I’ll level with
you as far as I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve probably
guessed I’m not local and that I don’t have jurisdiction over you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you’ll also have noticed that I’ve
entered your flat without alerting your neighbours and because you’re a smart
guy you’ll have worked out that I’ve searched your flat for both the rock and
the Sat Nav with no luck, yet nothing is out of place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Believe me, there isn’t a single trace that I
have been in this building, let alone your flat and that should tell you that
you’re dealing with someone you shouldn’t fuck around with,’ he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a pause he lifted the file slightly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘And I know from your file
that you’re essentially one of the good guys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You may be surprised to find out that I’m one of those too.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So far he’d got one thing right – I was
surprised, however I didn’t relate breaking and entering as a good guy
endeavour, nor implicit threats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
reached inside his jacket and pulled out a wallet, flipped it open and showed
me an ID that claimed he was part of the United Nations International Security
Committee.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘UNISC looks at trans-border
international threats,’ he explained as I digested as much information the ID
provided.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Never heard of them,’ I said,
adding, ‘is Winston really your name?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Is Royston really yours?’ he
asked, slamming the wallet shut and placing it carefully in his jacket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘The organisation isn’t supposed to be well
known but it does exist and if you Google for it you’ll find it easily
enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s nothing to do with the
Security Council, a separate arm so to speak, but it often provides critical
advice to them.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So, trans-border
threats?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such as rocks from space and
consumer goods, a pretty broad remit wouldn’t you say?’ I asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston didn’t reply, not at first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he leaned forward.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Where’s the rock and where’s
the Sat Nav?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Not here.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I know that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know I know that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it’s the monetary value of the Sat Nav
then I can recompense you,’ he offered, leaning back again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I presume you intended to
leave a pile of ten pound notes behind if you’d found it,’ I replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Probably not, you got me
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you would have got it back,
or at least one like it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just need
that particular one.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You collect rocks and Sat
Navs, eh?’ I asked, feeling braver by the second, braver until Winston raised
his voice suddenly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Don’t fuck with me Royston,’
he bellowed, then moderated his voice as I cowered back in the dining chair,
‘let’s start with the rock first,’ he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I took a deep breath and reminded myself of the night I spent in
Herefordshire searching for meteorites.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The call had come from Prof,
early evening.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Royston, I need a favour.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sighed inwardly, Prof’s favours usually
cost me time and money but he’s the faculty boss and I need to retain my
position while completing my post grad work.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘What sort of favour?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Field trip, helping to look
after undergrads from the department.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’ll know most of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s
a lot of meteor activity expected to hit the UK over the next few nights, I
want to set up a net to try and capture some examples that haven’t had a chance
to become contaminated.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The Panspermia Project?’ I
asked, knowing the answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Professor
Andrews is a fervent supporter of Fred Hoyle’s proposition that life on Earth
was germinated from space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was one of
the initial group of astronomers, biologists and geologists who formed a
working group with the Royal Society to try and prove that Panspermia is at the
very least plausible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘When?’ I asked, looking at my
diary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Generally it’s not too full but I
knew that I had a hospital check-up scheduled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Thursday to Sunday should see
it through, you can reschedule your classes,’ he replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I explained that Thursday wasn’t possible
until the evening so he agreed to take the group, sort out the accommodation, set
them on their tasks and would await my presence in the bar of a pub in a
Herefordshire village I’d never heard of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Prof barked a post-code at me then hung up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that I’d had all the briefing I was
going to get, just hoped that the undergrads got a better one.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Winston leaned forward to
interrupt.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Where do you stand on the
Panspermia idea?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Somewhere between possible to
total bollocks, to be blunt,’ I said, watching his reaction to the
obscenity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he understood the word he
didn’t show offence, just nodded, leaned back into his chair and indicated I
should continue, an indication I initially ignored, continuing, ‘if it is
possible it’s not a complete solution, the concept that planets are seeded by
bacteria from other planets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Accepted that it does appear
likely that bacteria can survive in a stasis condition for millennia from
samples recovered from Antarctica, and that certain forms have been proven to
survive the extremes of space travel there is still the very low probability
that bacteria-bearing meteorites, the professor’s favourite vehicle, would end
up on planets capable of bearing life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My other, and probably main, opposition is that somewhere along the way
life had to start on one planet first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If it’s possible to have occurred spontaneously once it’s equally likely
it could happen spontaneously on any planet with the right conditions.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Winston just nodded politely
so I resumed my description about how the girl gave me the rock.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">By the time I reached the pub
it was already dark and judging by the sound from within the professor was up
to his usual party tricks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I managed to
slip inside, dump my bags in the bedroom booked for me and grabbed a shower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Prof might be living the life but I knew
my role was in the field, stone cold sober and right through until dawn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I joined him downstairs and, once I’d pulled
him away from regaling a group of Young Farmers, found out the plan so
far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Pointing at the Ordnance
Survey map he showed me where the undergrads were positioned, the radio
frequencies they were using and the rendezvous arrangements for later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I noticed that his radio was turned off and
had no doubt that it would remain off until breakfast when he would gather in
the night’s report, any samples with grid references and any other information
to mull over as he strolled the Herefordshire hills.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Grabbing the various maps and
sheets of information he’d provided me with, I stood and thanked him, struggled
into my coat and left for a very long and fruitless night.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The second night was more
interesting – we’d all gotten a feel for the area, our sleep patterns were
about as good as they would get and we actually saw some meteorites plummeting
to Earth – the first night had been a dead end, probably because Prof had erred
on the side of caution. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">However, seeing a meteorite track
in and intercepting it are two completely different things – the darkness makes
it easier to see the trajectory but nearly impossible to judge scale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most burn up anyway and those that don’t,
well, they just disappear from view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
advantage we had as a group was a thermal imager and a laser guider which I
operated from a vantage point atop a hill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whenever a meteorite was observed falling in one of the eight sectors
around the hill I declared the sector code over the radio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The team in that sector started to home in on
where they thought the meteorite had landed and the teams from the adjacent
sectors, if not already deployed to the other side of their sector, started to
converge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">As the call was made I tracked
using the thermal imager then, when the image stabilised, cross referenced with
the laser guide which was picked up as a guiding beacon to the teams on the
ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thermal image from the
converging teams also helped me to guide them in to the target until they were
inside a few feet of the meteorite – at that point they would be masking the
thermal image beyond recognition and blocking the laser so would need to use
their own low power thermal detectors to home in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would resume scanning the night sky and
that particular team, if they found anything, would bag and tag the meteorite
in a hygienically prepared container.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">We found two meteorites that
second night.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">By the final night we’d
collected maybe ten or eleven potential candidates, enough to make the Prof
reasonably happy, so happy that he offered to buy everyone a drink and give us
the night off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were sat in a large
circle in the lounge bar, all of us except the Prof pooped from several nights
of meteorite searching and very little sleep during the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time we’d had three drinks each the
undergrads were falling asleep in their chairs and I decided I needed to go
outside for a walk to clear my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Prof decided to join me, partly because it was a fine evening and partly
because the pub was full of snoring undergraduates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However it turns out that there was another,
more important agenda, but I wouldn’t find that out for some time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The village that had acted as
our base for the past five days was slipping into slumber, odd lights glowing
behind random curtains, some ground level, most higher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was then that the girl emerged from the
dark, hair straggling, face muddied, grin wide.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I guess I’d always placed my departmental head in the category that
children put their parents in, so when she approached, I misread the situation,
thought that she was making a bee-line for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">What I hadn’t realised was
that while I had sat freezing my balls off on top of various Herefordshire
hills, Prof had been developing the students, favouring the female candidates
and probably not concerning himself too much about their academic promise too
much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As she breezed past me into Prof’s
arms she pushed a rock into my hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You missed one,’ she said as
she steered Prof back to the pub.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Make sure you store it in a
sterile container with the others,’ the Prof said over his shoulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tossed the rock in my hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Like it matters now,’ I
thought.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #606060; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420" style="color: #3d59b7; text-decoration-line: none;">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 6 soon. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p><div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><p></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-9955009938473014232021-03-09T20:06:00.000+00:002021-03-09T20:06:49.532+00:00Life on Mars, and over the Moon about it<p> I grew up in the Sixties having been born in the late Fifties. It was a golden age in some ways and to a pre-pubescent boy the space race was one of the most exciting things around, culminating in the moon landings in 1969.</p><p>Of course the Sixties weren't perfect. I was raised as one of six in an industrial town in north Wales. My dad was middle management in a large steel works and probably was well paid but the benefits of that were offset by the number of mouths he raised. Consumerism wasn't a word or even an idea - stuff lasted for as long as it could be made to and hardly anyone aspired to new cars or home ownership. None of these things were problems - I never went hungry and didn't feel disadvantaged, still don't. They were simpler times, great music was happening and something as basic as transistor radio was the epitome of indulgence.</p><p>The space race, though, showed an alternative reality. It's easy to look back on those days and the basicness of the technology the astronauts had to work with, but it was a close to science fiction without actually being fiction you could get. Unless, of course, you're a conspiracy theorist believing it was all filmed in Burbank.</p><p>Roll on the Seventies and music really got a grip on me - everything from Glam Rock to Motown (having started influencing me towards the end of the Sixties). In my teens now I was interested in other distractions although space still fascinated me and Bowie provided the track to my years. I was convinced in the existence of aliens and believed that UFOs were a thing, but life as always got in the way and as Punk Rock, a genre I never really got into, kicked off I had joined the military and my aeronautical engineering career. Oddly I became less enthused with space, but with retrospect, space had started to become a little stale.</p><p>The moon landings had finished - to be fair after Apollo 13 it was a hard act to beat - and the Space Station was embryonic. The Space Shuttle caused a stir but was deliberately low-key, almost day-to-day. The Shuttle disasters reminded us that it was actually still a high-risk affair but with earning a living, raising a family and avoiding the worst of Eighties music space faded into the background. Of course then came the Nineties and in retrospect the Eighties music wasn't too bad after all. The Noughties gave me a similar appreciation of the Nineties. I have no idea about the recent teens, having focussed on the blues.</p><p>But now it's getting all interesting again - I have two grandsons, one seven, the other three - and as they grow up towards their teens humans are returning to the moon, Mars is going to be explored and who knows, colonisation on Mars might be an employment option for them in their twenties. The older one is aware of the International Space Station and has watched it pass overhead but currently space is a slow burner for him, however I'm sure his generation is going to have an exciting time watching the build up to the next moon landings and the colonisation of Mars. I hope to be able to witness these events myself, just a bit wary of the soundtrack to be honest.</p><p>After years of baby steps it looks like we're suddenly going full pelt. Space tourism is looking like a reality for a select wealthy few and pushing back the boundaries of near space is happening on a weekly basis. The reasons for this are apparently clear - our wish to discover new ground is one touted reason, the need to be ready for the next asteroid impact is another. I proposed an alternative a while back with <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1470105020">The Journeymen</a> and the sequel, <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1490998756">Day of Reckoning</a> - books about the longest game played ever to curate and send ancient DNA to a home planet with a very distorted set of values driving it.</p><p>Both of those books are available in eBook and paperback format from Amazon and if you have Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited they can be read for free. I'm convinced they are fiction, but I think that about the Burbank link to the moon landings, and a lot of people disagree with me on that score, so who knows?</p><p><br /></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-77346692105162204162021-03-09T08:09:00.003+00:002021-03-09T08:09:53.774+00:00FAQS<p>In the olden days, when software came on a five inch floppy drive, it usually came with instructions in the form of a manual. If you bought a premium product it would be a proper bound document, otherwise it would be a text file to print out on your dot matrix printer.</p>Then the instructions became thinner and thinner, with more reliance on the intuitiveness of the software, as measured by a sixteen year old programmer with the communication skills of the desk his PC rested on. Clearly there was a gap; users, especially those of us old enough to be able to read and write and generally incapable of working out how to use a word processor purely by use of symbols, were revolting. And despite that being an awkward and embarrassing situation for the software vendors they had to do something: their target audience didn't have the money to buy the software, so they had to pander to the solvent brigade until their chosen generation matured enough to start earning.<br /><br />So the concept of the FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions) was born. Essentially a good idea - some parts of the software would be intuitive and would need little guidance. A good example is with Windows 95 (yeah, I go back a long way) and the Start button. Want to begin doing something? Well push Start, even a moron can work that out. Want to stop using your computer? Well, we all know now that pushing Start was the way to go, but I guess that's a tad counter intuitive for some.<br /><br />But the problem for software houses, with their need for speed to market, is that you don't get questions asked frequently until someone uses the software. And until it is released, generally that means software developers who don't mind quirky interfaces and entering numbers in hexadecimal until the calculator plug-in is out of beta, so their concept of what might be difficult to figure out is likely to differ from us mortal people. Their standard FAQ for a word processor would be:<br /><br />Q: how do I modulate a parsed syntax without reverting to a standard DIV/X error?<br /><br />A: Maintain a dual standard parsed pipe, avoiding a recursive query when in editor mode.<br /><br />Which may be accurate, but hardly useful.<br /><br />The only people left in the product chain pre-release apart from the juvenile programmers are generally the marketers. To be fair, these are generally more mature - hell, some are in their early twenties - and you can't accuse them of not being computer literate. I challenge anyone to find their way around a bonus calculation spreadsheet faster than a software salesman. But anything else is just so boring - you can't learn a software system while looking potential customers in the eye, or just looking in the mirror, come to that.<br /><br />Hence the marketers write the initial FAQs. They know the techie versions aren't going to be popular, and I can't fault them on that. But their attempts tend to make my blood boil. Bear in mind, given we're all a little conditioned to try and work it out ourselves these days, we're only going to delve into FAQs when we are stuck. Here's the standard first FAQ:<br /><br />Q: Where can I buy more of your fabulous products?<br /><br />A: Click on <u><span style="color: blue;">here</span></u> and follow the easy seventeen step process to lose your statutory rights and credit rating.<br /><br />So how about my suggestions for FAQs? These are a bit universal, so you can use them in any product. You can also add some product specific FAQs if you think that's what the buying public might want:<br /><br />Q: Why have you passed my bank details to an anonymous Russian web address?<br /><br />A: This is a standard anti-money laundering technique. We send your details to be matched against a list held by the Russian Mafia; if your details are not recognised then we add them to speed up future transactions, otherwise we use their records to verify if you still have any funds left in the account - to be fair, you shouldn't if they already have the details.<br /><br />Q: The software doesn't run, what should I do?<br /><br />A: Is the power turned on? No, honestly, you'd be surprised how many people blame the software when it's just the computer that isn't working. Look around you - if you are in darkness and the kettle has just stopped you might have a power cut. Please note, software corruption due to power spikes, which often precede a power cut, is not covered by the warranty.<br /><br />Q: How can I be accessing FAQs in a power cut situation?<br /><br />A: Why would you want to? Chill, put the kettle on, drink some tea and wait for the power to come back on.<br /><br />Q: Where can I buy some of your competitors' products?<br /><br />A: I think you'll find that the recent power cut corrupted your browser's ability to search for our competitors' products.<br /><br />Q: I find that I lose the second half of any sentence I write. What is causing this?<br /><br />A: It's an acknowledged bug that will be fixed in version 9.7.3 (we're currently in version 2.1.4). To overcome the problem, push the<br /><br />Q: The last sentence wasn't complete, could you repeat it?<br /><br />A: Yes.<br /><br />Q: The calculator returns an answer in hexadecimal, how do I convert it to normal numbers?<br /><br />A: You mean base ten? Then for God's sake say what you mean. Right, first off we suggest you learn to count in base sixteen. Failing that there are some routines on the web that convert Hex to Decimal, but you may find that your browser's ability to find them is compromised by the recent power cuts/surges. If you are just trying to work out your commission/mileage claim/expenses then click <span style="color: blue;"><u>here</u></span> for an Excel spreadsheet.<br /><br />Q: None of the hyperlinks in this FAQ work, why?<br /><br />A: You'd have to ask someone from the programming team. Or any other sixteen year old.<div><br /></div><div>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div><br /></div><div>The real question, infrequently asked, is 'where can I get books written by Ray Sullivan? Well, the best answer we could find is 'on Amazon, in eBook and paperback format.'</div><div><br /></div><div>Whether your taste is adventure, science fiction of comedy there is a book or two for you from the range and all at very affordable prices.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, that's what a FAQ should look like.</div>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-34049711803333226952021-03-08T21:16:00.000+00:002021-03-09T16:34:31.610+00:00Digital Life Form - part 4<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The ops room was starting to
buzz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The base commander had arrived ten
minutes after the call from the Pentagon on the red phone, an entourage of
officers and supporting non-coms in tow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>‘Good work Jim,’ he’d said, patting the lieutenant on the back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mildly surprised he’d been recognised, amazed
that his name was known to the base commander, Jim chanced his arm.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Sir, do we know what’s going
on?’ he asked, not expecting a meaningful answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The commander paused before speaking in a low
voice.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Nothing we can put a finger on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look, there’s a sit-rep meeting in five for
the senior team, come along, you may pick up some tasks for the next couple of
hours.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Five minutes later Jim stood
at the back of the room, desperately aware that he was the lowest rank by
several bars and that at best he was about to witness a briefing he wasn’t
strictly entitled to hear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The base
commander stood at the front, a lectern to his side, an attempt at portraying a
casual demeanour failing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Gentlemen, the situation we
have at the moment is that there have been two separate sets of radio
broadcasts across several bandwidths tonight, emanating from a location
believed to be strategically close to this base.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So far we don’t understand a great deal about
the broadcasts except that they appear to repeat a code several times on each
frequency before moving up a notch on the band to repeat the exact same
message.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The Pentagon has requested
the help of Langley, who’ve started to run the code through one of their Cray
supercomputers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s early days but their
cryptographers are stumped; they say it’s more like an arcane language than a
code.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He paused to take in the mood of
the assembled officers before continuing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘The first incursion was a low
power broadcast across a few commercial shortwave bands and at least one
military band as well as the emergency service bands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Concurrently the same code or message was
broadcast on two of the CB frequencies briefly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a short interval of approximately
fifteen minutes before the second incursion began, seemingly from the same
location but at a much higher power output and over a greater range of
frequencies.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A hand raised, eyes
followed the gaze of the base commander to the officer sporting intelligence
corps insignia on his tunic.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Is this a call to arms,
perhaps to Soviet sleepers?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are we
getting any reports from anywhere else in the States?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s the Def Con?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The base commander looked at the notes he
held in his hand briefly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘As far as we can tell this is
the only occurrence of this nature but a call to arms has not been
excluded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s been no increase in
military activity in Europe and the likelihood of Soviet sleepers targeting
only one geographical area is considered unlikely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To that point Def Con is set at 3, but the
situation is fluid – it could move soon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Other options that have been
considered range from peace activists providing a nuisance to the locality to a
targeted terrorist cell preparing an attack on our communications, perhaps
preceding a physical attack on us or a major civilian target.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mood in the room floated like a dark
cloud before a storm; electric, oppressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of the senior team raised his chin, an action that the base
commander accepted as an opening to speak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He strode up to the lectern.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Given the range of possible
threats we can’t afford to sit back and wait, we need to be proactive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The information we’re getting is that the
broadcasts are all from one static location – it’s not clear if the earlier
broadcasts were from the same coordinates as they were relatively weak and
unexpected, we didn’t start to triangulate until too late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We do know they are from the same rough area
and consider that they were a trial which has been extended to more powerful
transmitters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘One consideration is that
this second phase may also be a probing trial, there may be an even larger,
more powerful application scheduled, who knows?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What we do know is that the location of the current broadcasts is in an
unpopulated part of the desert and that the only people officially residing
there are a bunch of Exxon roughnecks surveying the locality for drilling
opportunities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are professional
people who are highly unlikely to fool around with the communications networks,
but we can’t eliminate the possibility that they have been over-run, captured
and held hostage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Perhaps the Arab terrorists have
moved one step beyond hijacking planes, maybe now they’re bringing their
regional disputes over here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlikely, I
agree, but we have to consider the possibility that we may have a Middle East
terrorist cell operating within the US with the sole aim of harming US
citizens.’<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Winston pulled up outside the
FCC building and waited outside of the car, the warm evening breeze wafting
over him. As the thin, pale man exited
the front entrance Winston pushed his hand out while holding up his FBI badge
with his left. Maurice scanned the ID
but overtly ignored the proffered hand, irritating Winston immediately.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Too good to shake hands with
a black man?’ he asked, trying to suppress his anger. Maurice’s sallow complexion flushed at the
comment.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘If I grip your hand, you’ll
need to prise my fingers off again,’ he said, continuing, ‘it’s a rare and
extreme version of Paramyotonia congenita; a genetic, neurological condition. Causes
localised paralysis.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I don’t shake anyone’s hand,
ever,’ he said, opening the passenger door.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Winston’s teeth rattled as he
pulled the car off the interstate onto the roughly made-up road, red and white
oil drums marking the edges as the track curved around to the right, abandoned
workers’ tools reflecting the headlights haphazardly. He figured the road was to precisely nowhere
and deep down he hoped Maurice Sands hadn’t fucked up in his map reading. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The conversation between the
two men had been stilted, restricted.
Sands had shown a keen interest initially in the FBI issue radio gear
but the talk had died down because Winston’s disinterest matched Maurice’s
occupational and professional curiosity exactly. After several minutes of bouncing along the
track Maurice broke the silence.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I know we’re in the ball
park, but how will we know we’ve reached the spot?’ Winston pointed to his left.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I think the massed ranks of
the US cavalry over there are a fair clue,’ he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Fifty minutes after arriving
back at the Exxon survey base HQ, Chuck sat in front of a long stainless steel
bench with the core samples laid out in the correct order, tags hanging
down. He had methodically transcribed
the essential data onto several sheets of paper in rough and had dragged a
typewriter in front of him to begin the painstaking task of lining all the boxes
on the forms up. As he fiddled to align
the first box the lights flickered, then shone bright before plunging the room
into complete darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘What the …’ he spluttered, then
waited a few seconds to see if the generators recovered themselves, before standing
up and walking across to the window to look outside to see who would be the
first to investigate the failure, guessing correctly it would be Sam. He saw the side door swing open and Sam’s
muscular frame step out onto the dark dirt-laden area where the ancillary
equipment was stored, noticing that he carried a long wrecking bar across his
chest. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Chuck knew that Sam frequently
took his bar on any emergency task, swearing blind that experience had
conditioned him into the belief that it would be needed sooner or later, so may
as well take it. That much was
expected. The hail of bullets that
ripped Sam’s body apart and tore through the walls of the Exxon survey base HQ
smashing windows, shattering equipment and tearing into Chuck’s left leg wasn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">His ears bursting with the
sound of automatic rifle fire, trucks roaring, helicopters circling and sirens
screaming Chuck fell to the ground and dragged himself towards the scant
protection of the scarred and mangled stainless steel tables covered in broken
core samples. The last thing he heard
was the sound of the air to ground missile before it struck.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Reuter’s newsfeed, Los Angeles, May 5th, 1978<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Federal agents from the FBI
and DEA, assisted by military support from Edwards Air Force Base attempted to
rescue nineteen Exxon oil workers held captive by a Communist sect calling
itself the ‘Sons of Russia’ in the middle of the Mojave desert last night. FBI Director Jack Robinson reported that the
sect members, who numbered ‘twenty or thirty’, were heavily armed with ground
to air missiles, heavy calibre machine guns and had a stash of fertiliser
explosives. It was also believed that
they had a large quantity of illegal drugs with them at the time of the raid,
which resulted in the sect members engaging the Federal agents in a pitched
battle before detonating explosives that destroyed the Exxon camp, killing all
the Exxon employees and the sect members.
Director Robinson stated that several Federal agents were injured in the
explosion trying to rescue the Exxon employees, although none of the injuries
were life threatening.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">An Exxon spokesman declined to
comment on the raid but stated that Exxon’s thoughts and prayers were with the
families and loved ones of the employees that had been lost.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 5 soon. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;"><br clear="all" style="break-before: page; mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" /></span></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-88994020555916915462021-03-08T20:15:00.002+00:002021-03-09T16:32:10.088+00:00Digital Life Form - part 3<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Graham Marks looked up at the
sound of the Jeep coughing and spluttering outside the Exxon survey base
HQ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Relaxing the hand that had hovered
over the short-wave radio reserved for emergency calls he stood and walked over
to the window of his office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Outside,
under the floodlights he watched as the crew unloaded the Jeep, carrying tools
and equipment to the correct storage, chains clanking as mesh gates were
secured, locks snapping shut despite the HQ being located miles from any
civilisation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Routine was routine, and
that was what had pissed Graham off.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Chuck flinched as he walked
into the front office of the HQ, a long, squat trailer containing basic office
furniture leading to the connecting tunnel to the crews’ living quarters at the
rear and to the boss’s office to the right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Graham stormed out of that office, straight past Ben sat manning the comms
radio and laid straight into Chuck.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Where the fuck have you
been?’ he shouted, pushing his face into Chuck’s.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Sorry chief, shaft seized,
then the Jeep started running rough, had to nurse it back real slow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sam thinks it’s electrical – alternator or some
shit like that, I thought maybe fuel pump.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Chuck backed off from Graham, intimidated by the man mountain twenty
years his senior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Radio failed too,
probably battery I guess, couldn’t fix a frequency or hear any broadcast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spare battery didn’t do any better,
either.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stood arms spread wide,
palms forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Graham paused, evaluated
the information.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘What about the CB?’ he asked,
turning his head towards the commercial set sat next to Ben.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck shook his head.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Same as the main radio,
probably linked to the Jeep’s electrical problem, I guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shit Graham, you know Sam knows fuck all
about electrics.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Graham stood aside,
decided that he’d call head office in the morning to get the vehicles serviced
on-site earlier than planned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two
mechanics struggled into the HQ carrying the day’s core samples, the depth and
location labels fluttering below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
them, once the samples were in the lab they were done, they could grab a beer
from the icebox and relax.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck would
grab a beer too but would spend the next hour cataloguing the samples ready for
the duty geologist to process tomorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Before he began his task, he reached into his bag and pulled out the
meteorite and with a smooth swing he lobbed the rock to Ben.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Meteorite, saw it land, damn
near took my head off,’ he said as Ben caught the rock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The young radio operator turned the rock in
his hands, wonder in his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Wow, like straight from
space?’ he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Just landed,’ replied Chuck,
heading for the icebox.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Winston spoke clearly and carefully
into the phone, explaining that, yes, he would personally deal with the
situation and yes, he had made a note of the caller’s name and number but no,
he probably wouldn’t call him back to apprise him of his progress.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I’m a fucking federal agent not
a wet fucking nurse,’ he said to nobody in particular as he placed the handset
back down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Has anyone got that number
yet?’ he called over his shoulder while hovering over the handset ready to take
the next highly predictable call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Natalie, the registry clerk, placed a slip of paper in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘He’s expecting you,’ she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Picking up the slip, Winston
dialled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Maurice Sands,’ answered a
voice.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Mr Sands, my name is Grace,
an agent with the FBI.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m calling about
some weird transmissions that seem to be hitting pretty much all the popular
frequencies, we’ve been getting a number of calls this evening and I wondered
if you guys at the FCC had any advice for us,’ Winston said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sands didn’t pause to answer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You’ve had a number of calls,
what do you think I’ve been getting as the unacceptable federal face of the
local communications commission?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christ,
everybody hates us ninety-nine point friggin’ nine percent of the time because
we’re seen to be officious kill-joys stopping everyone from using the airwaves
for whatever they think is their “God given right”, but the moment someone does
what we spend our lives trying to prevent and you can’t hear Dolly Parton’s
Country Hour on your favourite local station then my phone goes into
meltdown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Yes, I’ve got some advice –
someone’s breaking the law, a federal law, and I know approximately where
they’re doing it from.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston paused,
partly to digest the unexpected rant.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Can you do anything about
it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Close down the station or whatever
is interfering with all the FM, AM and short-wave stations on and off?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that the interference source has been
helpfully triangulated by several pissed off amateur radio freaks all I need to
do is call up the FCC gunship, fly out into the desert and make them stop.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You can do that?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Except the bit about the gunship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m sorry if it sounded like I could do
something real quick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps if someone
could rustle a judge up who isn’t too picky about issuing a court order to an
address in the middle of the desert with no name on then I could slap a stamp
on it and hope the postal service finds the offender before they piss every
radio listener in California off.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Winston understood the frustration Sands was feeling.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Sorry Mr Sands, I guess I was
a bit slow there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How about a bit of
federal organisational co-operation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
you really do know where the perp is broadcasting from then I can take you
there – if an offence is in progress at the time of my arrival I can use my tin
badge to make it stop and bring this guy in, what do you say?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You got one of those FBI
gunships to take us?’ asked Sands.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Only if they’re made by
General Motors,’ replied Winston.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 4 soon. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-1006738306698614912021-03-08T19:48:00.001+00:002021-03-08T21:50:32.299+00:00Digital Life Form - part 2<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><b>Ops Room, Edwards Air Force
Base 20:00 hours Pacific Standard Time</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Lieutenant Jim Caldy leaned
back in the ops commander’s seat, scanning the monitors lining the far edge of
the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few showed CCTV images from
the main gates, the weapons storage entrance and one rotated the perimeter road
cameras, changing every fifteen seconds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The grainy black and white images flickered and lit the end wall,
providing most of the illumination in the wide room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two technicians on his right pored over the dismantled
IBM personal computer that had been installed three days earlier as part of a
trial to see if the technology would be of any use to the airforce and a
corporal sat typing up a report noisily to his left, the pool of bright light
from the angle-poise lamp spilling across her desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would leave once the report was filed and
from then there would be very few other personnel entering or leaving the room
until the early shift arrived, unless the red phone rang announcing an
emergency or, more likely, a base exercise, which would precede all hell
breaking loose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gripping his magazine
and lifting his mug of coffee Jim paused: please don’t let the phone ring
tonight.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Thirty-two minutes into his
shift the met officer from down the corridor walked in holding the met report
for the first half of the night – it was short enough to have been passed over
the intercom but he always walked it round when on shift to break the boredom.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Hi Jim,’ he said, slipping
the typed sheet onto the ops desk alongside the logbook, ‘nothing much to
report weather-wise tonight,’ he offered in his Texan drawl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jim picked up the paper and scanned it –
clear night, temperatures a little cooler than seasonal but nothing to affect
flying operations.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Cool,’ Jim ventured,
desperately trying to not get drawn into a conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked across at the screens for some
relief, a diversion, but none came.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
met man – Jim didn’t know his name, didn’t care – pushed home for his
conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Any flying tonight?’ he
asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jim scanned the logbook as if
he’d not thought to check it previously.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Nothing much scheduled, big
push on maintenance ready for the exercise next week, a few choppers practising
night ops,’ he said, staring into his coffee cup, avoiding eye contact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the background the ops windows shook as a
Phantom had both engines tested concurrently, the flare of the afterburners
lighting up the ground-run dispersal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jim couldn’t make out the droop nose or the distinctive tail fin but he
knew from the sound, the timbre, that it was a Phantom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew that it would be straining against
the locked-down metal chocks, desperately trying to do what it was designed to
do, pushing to roll free, to accelerate, to fly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of politeness he looked back up at the
Texan, who grabbed the opportunity with both hands.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Good job, because of the
meteorites,’ he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Meteorites?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jim felt a trap had been sprung and he’d
walked straight into it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Yeah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Got the inside track on some NASA data.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently there’s a load of space shit falling
over the desert tonight, has been for the last coupla days.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Enough to affect flights?’
Jim asked, knowing the answer in his gut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>NASA would have advised the senior operations team if the meteorites
presented a flight hazard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The met man
shook his head, reluctantly Jim thought, before continuing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘No, odds well against any making
it in one piece, most burn up on entry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It would be a really unlucky jock that got hit by one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Should make a good show tonight they reckon,
will give me something to do while staring into space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway, gotta go, hourly checks on the
instruments coming up,’ he said, turning abruptly for the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jim watched him leave then scanned the room
slowly before resuming his magazine, took in the two technicians talking
quietly as they reassembled the IBM at the far end of the room and saw the
corporal standing by the filing cabinet, locking it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew she would ask if he wanted anything
and that he would decline, thank you for asking, have a good evening.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">He glanced across at the red
phone, felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Downtown Los Angeles FBI
office was in almost complete darkness except for a few offices where agents
sat typing up the last reports of the day.
Winston Grace was one of those agents, twenty-two years old, ebony black
and determined to beat every other agent of his peer group, white or black,
into at least second place; Winston was going to the top. He shuffled the handful of papers he’d been
working on before returning them tidily to their folder, the FBI seal embossed
on the front flap. Winston was running
his index finger over the raised pattern as Agent Carlton Rhodes popped his
head around the office door, smiling a smile as wide as California at his
friend.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘What’re you doin’ here?’ he
asked, entering the room, ‘Don’t you know its bad luck to be here this late when
you’re not on duty?’ he asked. Winston
leaned back casually.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘And why might that be?’ he
asked. Carlton flopped down in the chair
opposite and flicked through the files neatly piled on Winston’s desk.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘If anything goes down and
you’re in the building, you get sucked in, into some other’s shit,’ he
said. ‘And tonight that shit’s
mine.’ Winston smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Well I wouldn’t want to
deprive you of any shit belonging to you,’ he said, scooping up the files and
standing. ‘I guess I ought to return
these to the lock up and leave you to look after Los Angeles for the
night. Anything major going down?’ he
asked as an afterthought.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Just a drugs bust, low life
players, probably should be local police raid except they brought the shit over
the State line. Good team’s on it now,
gonna go in a few hours’ time,’ he said, following Winston out of the room and
down the dimmed corridor to the file registry.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You acting as base comms?’
Winston asked, as he unlocked one of the filing cabinets. The look on Carlton’s face gave the
answer. ‘Hell Carlton, you can’t go in
there with guns blazing every time, someone has to coordinate, that’s the smart
job, the one that makes or breaks an operation.’<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I’m not like you, Winston, I
just want the adrenaline rush, the thrill of the chase. Sitting behind a mic listening to guys having
the time of their life just pisses me off.
I wanna be there, nailing the bad guys.’
Winston laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Mic man’s the key. He makes or breaks the raid, hears all the
feeds, builds a more complete picture than any single guy on the spot. His picture, experience and gut instinct are
what keeps the other agents alive and the bad guys locked up. Just enjoy it. If you need any help, well, in about half an
hour I’ll be sipping some bourbon so you’d better call before then,’ he said,
locking the last file away and tossing the keys across to the duty registry
clerk.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Me, I’m on my way outta
here.’<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">A phone rang on the registry
clerk’s desk, answered as the two agents turned to leave.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Some guy wants to know if
we’ve contacted the FCC about the radio problems yet? Says he needs to speak to an agent’, she
said, looking at Winston.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 3 soon. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-12213945680759242432021-03-08T19:45:00.002+00:002021-03-08T19:45:21.822+00:00It takes two - the Surface Duo<p> I'm a bit of a Microsoft fan these days. That wasn't always the case - I can recall a time when I felt they were dominating the world and I have an aversion to monoliths. Now it seems that the world is divided into four or so massive monoliths I'm never going to win that particular argument.</p><p>In the past I've backed the underdog - for a while I was a Palm champion, extolling the virtues of their products. I wrote a large part of the Journeymen on the T5 while shuttling between north Wales and Arkansas on a project using a Palm keyboard. It was the tiniest laptop you ever saw. I loved the T5, arguably the precursor to the smart phone that was smashed by the iPhone appearing at about the same time my T5 was dying. Repairs were impossible, new models unlikely, so for a while I played around with middle-market Android phones.</p><p>Then I jumped on the Windows phone - surely the kiss of death when I adopt. I bought a top end HP Windows phone to complement first my Surface RT laptop, then my first Surface Pro. The RT didn't die - my son-in-law is trying to get it to run on Linux at the moment, but it did become a problem as nobody was supporting the ARM chipset, hence the move to a grown up Surface Pro.</p><p>I'd evaluated the first instance of the Surface Pro for a former employer as a device to use carrying out fire safety audits of commercial premises and at the time thought it too bulky and heavy - the later generations addressed that. I'd still have my Surface Pro 4 if it wasn't for the paving stones outside my front door. Them and gravity. So I bought my second Surface Pro a while back, a V6. I've also found myself on my third keyboard - unintentional experiments with the first two demonstrated that Coors is a poor lubricant and single malt whisky even worse. I'm still using the original Surface Pen but the nib is looking ropey these days - since lockdown I've been teaching engineering students science and maths on the Surface Pro with the assistance of Microsoft Whiteboard. That pen has seen some use and is soon to be replaced.</p><p>Anyway, back to the Windows phone - I loved the way it worked, how it integrated with my Surface Pro, my diary, my life. I stopped writing books on mobile phones a while back but if any phone would support that, the HP would. I guess I got what Apple aficionados get with the Apple environment but without the crowds or the self affirming back slapping and knowing glances. I don't think I met more than half a dozen other Windows phone users in the time I was using the HP, and none seemed as keen as I was. Eventually the first HP went the way of the first Surface Pro - landing face down on my patio out back. Is it me, or is it just gravity? Newton has a lot to answer for in this household.</p><p>I bought a second hand model on eBay and that worked but eventually Microsoft gave up on the Windows phone idea, which was a bummer for me, and then WhatsApp stopped supporting it. I replaced it with a OnePlus T8, which is kind of cool, love the pop-up selfie camera and I've skinned it with a Windows overlay so it works as an Android but fits in with my MS toys - sorry - equipment. I've still got the second-hand HP in a drawer in the shed, it hasn't even hit a hard surface or had alcohol poured over it. There's still time.</p><p>Microsoft have seemed to come to terms with exiting the phone software arena, and have embraced Android in an anti-Apple kind of way. They produce the skins I mentioned that lets me use my Office 365 software seamlessly, access the OneDrive and apart from a lack of Windows tiles makes me feel all Microsofty inside. And after a few years of leaks, rumours and even an official announcement ahead of the pandemic, they're returning to the fray with a Surface branded phone.</p><p>Patent leaks over the last few years showed Microsoft were interested in creating some sort of folding phone but they've moved away from the Samsung approach and in a ballsy way have bucked practically every trend by linking two screens together with a brace of hinges. They are, it must be noted, very good at high tech hinges as anyone who has used a Surface Pro or a Surface Studio will attest. They don't even call the new device, the Surface Duo, a phone. It's clearly pitched as a computer with two screens, smart features and - oh, by the way, it takes calls too. Finally someone has realised that the majority of phones today are used for anything other than making and receiving phone calls.</p><p>Given the spec it is feasible that I could end up writing my next novel on a Duo, a la Palm T5, but at the current price - about £1400 in the UK - I would need something in addition to the current offering. I know Microsoft make a special hinge for the Surface Studio - they call it the anti-gravity hinge - given my track record with tech I could do with that technology being extended to the rest of the device before I shell out that much money!</p><p>An alcohol repellent product would be a boon, too.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ray-Sullivan/e/B004KH84K2?ref_=dbs_p_ebk_r00_abau_000000">Why not follow my Author profile?</a></p><p><br /></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-86594059964964020492021-03-07T21:35:00.000+00:002021-03-08T11:21:25.481+00:00Digital Life Form - part 1<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Night falls swiftly and
silently in the Kern County corner of the Mojave Desert, the sky shimmering a
pale orange as the sun sets towards the Pacific Ocean, glowing faintly to the
south from Los Angeles light pollution, turning ink black to the east with only
the faintest hint of Las Vegas burning like an ember in the distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twenty-three miles northwest of Edwards Air
Force Base the rapid change from day to night, from scorching sky to freezing
desert, was marked solemnly by the oil exploration crew fighting the mechanical
failure while the small amount of light remained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck Evans looked at his watch, knew that
his work for the day was complete regardless of the progress by the engineer
swearing at the jammed drill chuck.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Leave it, Sam,’ he said,
resting his palm on the big man’s shoulder, feeling the muscles ripple as Sam Corbet
braced against the wrench as he heaved hopelessly to free off the jammed
mechanism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Soak it overnight, we’ll
bring the heavy gear tomorrow,’ he added.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sam didn’t respond, just pulled hard and steady until he felt a fraction
of movement.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Ten minutes, Chuck,’ he said,
not looking, ‘I think I can separate the main shaft before we return to the
base camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I leave it jammed like
this overnight the temperature change is gonna make it twice as hard tomorrow,
especially if you Geologists sleep in as usual.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck laughed, walking away from his friend
and two mechanics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d worked on oil
exploration projects all over the country for nearly eight years, both being
recruited from the class of ’71 in their respective disciplines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sam was a workaholic, a problem solver of all
things mechanical, and didn’t trust any technology he couldn’t tweak with a
wrench or a screwdriver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Go and find
some of those fancy rocks from space you keep talking about,’ he added, ‘that
should keep you quiet.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Chuck grinned at his friend
and turned towards the Jeep, shaking his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>‘I’ll start throwing the rest of the gear in and call base to let them
know we’ll be late,’ he shouted as he walked away, ‘let me know if you need me
to keep any tools or long levers out.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Bracing, he clasped a canvas
bag containing core samples pulled from the ground during the day and heaved
them onto the truck bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the Jeep’s
springs compressed the rear frame dipped and a flash of light caught his
eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The flare of the meteorite intensified,
and he realised by the faint hissing sound that it was close, real close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The impact sound, a muffled thud, was
probably less than thirty feet away, certainly no more than forty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck’s heart raced – the meteorites weren’t
unexpected, there had been a number showering the west coast for several days
and he’d witnessed several flying past as the night crept in – but the chances
of seeing one land so close?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Running across the scorched,
barren ground towards where he believed the rock to have landed Chuck tried to
keep his focus on the rapidly darkening desert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He knew there were Joshua trees dotted in this direction and he guessed
that the rock had landed inside the cleared perimeter the drilling crew had
created.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he reached the Joshua trees
then he’d have gone too far, if he ran into one he’d regret it, the barbs
raking his skin would leave him sore for hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Stopping to regain his bearings Chuck looked forward, scanning no more
than thirty degrees each way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trees
marking the perimeter were fading into the blackness of the desert about ten
feet ahead and there was at least one to his right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turning on his heel he spun slowly back
towards the drilling rig, scanning the near ground carefully for some
indication of disturbance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shuffling
forward, sliding his right foot from side to side, dragging rough silica as he
went, Chuck explored slowly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">As the rig faded into the
darkness he saw a faint glow two feet to his left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stooping, then kneeling, Chuck cupped the
rapidly cooling meteorite carefully in his hands, the leather geologist gloves
insulating him from the heat of the rock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Suppressing a cry of joy he scooped up the rock and made his way back to
the rig, guided by the swearing from Sam.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You’re a good omen Sam,’ he
shouted as he drew level with the Jeep, ‘if only you could use that skill for
finding oil.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You got one, that quick?’
asked Sam, standing, wrench hanging slackly by his side, the grin telling Chuck
that Sam had beat the shaft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck held
out the meteorite, dusting the sand off the top surface where it had melted
onto the rock on impact.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Bout a pound weight, pound
and a half tops,’ he said, ‘I’ll do some analysis tonight instead of throwing
my bonus away on you guys playing cards.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sam ignored the comment, Chuck won as much as he lost and hell, the guy
earned more than he could spend any time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He reached out with an ungloved hand and felt the warmth of the rock.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Jeez, it’s hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just landed?’ he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck nodded, shook his head in the direction
of the impact site.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Saw it land, nearly lost it
again in the dark.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Michael, one of the
mechanics leaned forward to look.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Don’t we have to give it to
the government or NASA or something like that?’ he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck shrugged, shook his head. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘I’m not aware we have to,’ he
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Anyway, if we give it to the
government then they’ll just ask a geologist like me to analyse it.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘So why not leave it with the
best?’ asked Sam, throwing his tools into the back of the Jeep.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘Exactly,’ replied Chuck,
dragging the glove off his free hand by clasping it between his knees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the glove waved in front of him he carried
out an exploratory feel of the surface.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>‘It’s cooling rapidly,’ he said, laying his ungloved hand carefully on
the meteorite, feeling the scarred and pitted surface, tried to guess the
composition just by touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Just think,
a few minutes ago this was hurtling through space, it’s possibly travelled for
eons through countless galaxies before ending on a rat run around our solar
system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then today it loses its
fight to fly for eternity and plummets to within a few yards of this spot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it’d landed a few minutes earlier or later
I’d have missed it and it would have been pure chance whether anyone would have
found it, ever.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Chuck stopped and looked at
the three faces staring at him, then smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>‘Not a big deal to you guys, I guess,’ he said, pushing the rock into
the canvas bag he kept his personal gear in, swinging it into the back of the Jeep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They answered him wordlessly by loading the
rest of the gear in a few swift movements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Within a minute he and Sam were sat in the front with the two mechanics
stood holding onto the anti-roll frame, knees ready to absorb the three-mile
cross-country drive to the base camp where the two other crews would have
converged already.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">‘You call to say we were
running late?’ asked Sam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck shook
his head and reached for the Motorola radio.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">*************************************************************************************</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420">Digital Life Form</a> will be back with part 2 tomorrow. Can't wait? Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.</span></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-70593951043115703942021-03-07T21:20:00.003+00:002021-09-11T20:49:37.236+01:00Digital Life Form - fact or fiction?<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41BIeH-BTFL._SX311_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="313" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41BIeH-BTFL._SX311_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p> I wrote <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1790910420">Digital Life Form</a> in 2010 - 2011 after a walk in the Lake District with my wife. There's a route alongside Lake Windermere that starts at <a href="https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/wray-castle">Wray Castle</a>, a Nineteenth Century folly with an interesting history of its own. The path we were on follows the lakeside mainly until you get to Hawkshead pier, a short bunny hop away from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beatrix_Potter">Beatrice Potter</a>'s home. From there you jump on a boat, or take a foot passenger trip on the car ferry, to Bowness.</p><p>The walk isn't any great shakes - about four miles end to end and over mildly undulating paths. Back then there was a muddy field you had to traverse from Wray Castle to the main path but today it has a hardened path linking them. A stout pair of walking shoes or boots is all you need - you don't even need a map!</p><p>We've done this walk practically every time we've visited the Lakes - it's a great warm up before we scale <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loughrigg_Fell">Loughrigg</a> or bimble along the <a href="https://theoutdoorguide.co.uk/britains-favourite-walks/coffin-route-ambleside/">Coffin Trail</a> and in our mind is practically flat. Except it isn't - not totally. There's a short stretch where the trail rises for, I guess, about a quarter of a mile. It's one of those stretches where conversation stops and, if you're like me, the mind starts to wander in a reverie.</p><p>Prior to hitting that part of the trail we'd been chatting - we'd just bought a Tom Tom sat nav for our trips - this was back in the dark ages when smart phones were in their infancy, voice commands such as we're now used to with Alexa and Siri were rumours on the internet, self driving cars were a pipe dream of some guy called Elon Musk - whatever happened to him? </p><p>We were both impressed with the sat nav - I said this was a while ago - and started to speculate how they would evolve. I suggested that the interface was the Achilles Heel - you're driving, concentrating on the road and you have to start typing post codes (zip codes to US readers) so to reprogram one you really need to pull over. I suggested that some kind of voice control would be a natural evolution - as I said above this was way before we started chatting to AI voices to turn the lights on and off .</p><p>Then we hit the climb and I fell into my reverie. By the time we hit the top of the hill and started chatting again the idea that became Digital Life Form had taken root in my head. Part of what had occurred to me was the speed of technological evolution - and looking back ten years I can see that up until then it had been fairly sedate compared to what it is now. Some folk have an issue with the concept of evolution and have a belief that an entity just created everything as we see it now. I'm not going to get into a debate on that - each to their own - but I personally don't have an issue with Darwin's theory. But technology evolves at such an incredible rate these days it gave me pause for thought - what if the evolution took place in another time, another place and we're just reaping the benefits now?</p><p>The story is pure fiction - in fact it's very tongue in cheek and, if I may be so bold, a darned good yarn. It includes an AI supercar, probably one of the best car chases in written form, a pursuit by special forces utilising a Chinook helicopter, an Apache helicopter with Hellfire missiles and a British government prepared to destroy part of north west Wales to stop an open secret becoming commonplace.</p><p>I mention all of this for two reasons. First - I picked up on news reports last week about meteor showers being tracked in the UK with scientists rushing to intercept them. The scientists were urging anyone finding the meteors to not touch them, to bag them carefully. They backed it up with some BS reasons about carbon affecting the meteorites but my version of events - that they are carrying Digital Life Forms obviously has the benefit of plausibility.</p><p>Like all my books Digital Life Form is available on Amazon in eBook format and as a paperback. It is also available for reading for free if you are an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer. There is one other ethical way to read this for free (I'm aware some dodgy websites are offering this book for free - it would have been nice if they'd asked) and that is via this blog. For the foreseeable I'm going to be serialising Digital Life Form here two or three times a week, starting tomorrow. </p><p>Hope you enjoy the read.</p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-60728415057598568832020-12-05T21:55:00.001+00:002020-12-06T09:20:48.353+00:0015 Years of Typos - an internet lifetime?<p> It's been a while since I published anything on this blog, but I haven't been idle. Some of you may recall I mentioned a (long) while back that I write for the UK satirical website <a href="http://www.newsbiscuit.com/">NewsBiscuit</a>. NewsBiscuit was founded over fourteen years ago by British TV comedic scriptwriter and author <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_O%27Farrell_(author)">John O'Farrell</a>, who was one of the main scriptwriters on the original <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spitting_Image">Spitting Image</a> TV series a lifetime ago.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ow9xU5982ZcKu-3np24Z_Dfk0VOar9aRjfKDmzDNofQmlsR8FXX0ujblLMTo1RQrP-MdohHOVZT28xHkYW5Ql8VAEogU6H_yWUDt5M7FA04wkmBg8ncEKI1EJZ8BBRQ41eO83DmJkA/s2048/NB+Cover+v1+High+Res+in+JPEG.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ow9xU5982ZcKu-3np24Z_Dfk0VOar9aRjfKDmzDNofQmlsR8FXX0ujblLMTo1RQrP-MdohHOVZT28xHkYW5Ql8VAEogU6H_yWUDt5M7FA04wkmBg8ncEKI1EJZ8BBRQ41eO83DmJkA/s320/NB+Cover+v1+High+Res+in+JPEG.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Time indeed passes and I now not only contribute to the website with satirical and comedic offerings but also spend a week every eight or so weeks as duty editor, selecting and preparing articles for publication on NewsBiscuit. As the website provides new material every day, 365 days of the year, this is sometimes a challenging but rewarding task.</p><p>Anyway, back in the start of lockdown one of the senior editors suggested that it might be worth looking at producing an anthology of some of the best articles published over the lifetime of NewsBiscuit. As one contributor noted recently, internet years are like dog years so to still be around publishing original material for nearly fifteen years is an achievement. Anyway I threw my hat in the ring and shortly afterwards four other editors came on board.</p><p>Over the duration of NewsBiscuit it has published literally tens of thousands of submissions especially when you consider the site publishes one-line tickers as well. So we had the unenviable task of wading through those, but not before we'd requested permission to use material from contributors. Unlike other websites of a similar ilk, one of NewsBiscuit's unique selling points is that the writer retains full rights to their material - in essence they loan it to us - so we couldn't use anything that belonged to anyone who didn't reply to our request.</p><p>Once we had a list of agreed writers to cull stories and tickers from a bit of crude data mining with our database revealed how many submissions each writer had had published over the years - it wasn't perfect but it gave us a starting point. Writers were allocated to editors for selecting articles and we worked on a percentage value that differentiated between the prolific big hitters and the infrequent writers, with the prolific group getting a smaller percentage allocation to avoid swamping the book with prolific authors.</p><p>Once editors had selected and trimmed articles they allocated them to genres such as World News, UK News, Science and Technology, Faith and quite a few more. We sorted and arranged the submissions into what we felt was a logical order, continuing to edit and tidy them up and then the sections were rotated again for sense checking. More tidying up and the book started to take shape and, because I have previous in this area, I undertook the formatting for the eBook and paperback versions.</p><p>Meanwhile a couple of the editors started looking for suitable charities to receive any royalties from the sales. From the outset we agreed to make this a charity affair and all of the eventual contributors, all 80+ of them, agreed up front to waive any fees despite the fact we hadn't identified a charity at that point. We approached national and international charities and at best received an out of office message. Most didn't respond at all despite we were offering to donate all royalties without deductions. However we did find two very deserving charities that did return our calls - the award-winning mentoring charity and support network Arts Emergency (<a href="http://arts-emergency.org">arts-emergency.org</a>) and English Pen (<a href="http://englishpen.org">englishpen.org</a>), one of the world's oldest human rights organisations that champions the freedom to write and read around the world. <span face=""Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;"> </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Amazon Ember, Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #333333;"><span>One of the editors is a professional proof-reader so we had him working flat out correcting misspellings and grammatical howlers while the wife of one of the other editors also proof-read the first draft and provided valuable feedback. I formatted the paperback, ordered proof copies and distributed. There were still issues that the six of us trapped including my choice of margins and the book was altered. On December the first it was released.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Amazon Ember, Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #333333;"><span>With over 500 short comedic stories and several hundred one-line gags we have produced a very professional and fun to read anthology. With the Christmas period looming this might just be the stocking filler you need, or the book you want to buy for yourself. The book is titled <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/NewsBiscuit-Years-Typos-News-Biscuit/dp/B08P7384TB/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1607115402&sr=8-1">15 Years of Typos</a> and is currently only available on Amazon (UK link provided - I'm sure Amazon will direct you to the best local version of their website). </span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Amazon Ember, Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #333333;"><span>Save yourself a headache - order copies for friends and family.</span></span></span></p>Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-87174809560118171082020-06-20T21:44:00.002+01:002020-06-20T21:44:54.226+01:00Four books on free promotionAmazon are running a free promotion on four of my books in the next week - <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07K7XC5BZ">Hotel California</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00K0SEPU8">Assassin</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B004HW6ANS">The Journeymen</a> and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B004HKIIX0">Parallel Lives</a>.<br />
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Make a bookmark and download them while they are free.<br />
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Hotel California is the story behind where celebrities go after they 'die', where they retire to. Inspired by the song by the Eagles it follows the trail of a British punk rocker who retires to the remote location and a life of luxury after faking his death in LA but realises he has made a mistake. He teams up with an octogenarian rocker called Elvis who has spent the last forty years plus scheming to escape from his self imposed prison, but they'll need the help of a British music journalist, Aiden, to help them escape.<br />
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Assassin is a dystopian novel set in an England in the near future. Democracy has been suspended, ties with Europe and the US have been severed and it follows the extraction to safety of a scientist hiding from the government agents by a man known as the Assassin - a gun for hire to almost anyone but the people who made him what he is - the congress, which is the name of the governing body of the country in the book. Worth reading now as the sequel is in progress as I type.<br />
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The Journeymen is the conspiracy theory to end all conspiracy theories. Don't understand how your boss got the job? Can't stop shaking your head at the antics of the people at the top? The Journeymen might just provide you with answers to this and many other questions. It's a thriller too, and you'll be hanging on by the seat of your pants.<br />
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Parallel Lives is my first novel, written a long time ago. It's science fiction and a thriller. Some of the Sci-fi stuff is now real stuff such is the pace of change but it has a sneaky twist that many readers miss altogether. See if you can spot it (hint - it has a reference to a character that later appeared in Hotel California)<br />
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Enjoy.Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-36063277647045793422020-05-11T21:44:00.000+01:002020-05-11T21:53:00.826+01:00Assassin is on countdown in the US<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tc-VaWcpxcHxPvqyFUpklHucwQgzD2eSpWCJ0ed273yY5EGqxriHF4VYvRrGRpjEx5TPV8KPWrPSdih_TbheVdyJen4XmZBmfElkuZwnjfWi8gIvlAyG3jcqJqbMG9FD3uhlJOB7Dw/s1600/assassin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tc-VaWcpxcHxPvqyFUpklHucwQgzD2eSpWCJ0ed273yY5EGqxriHF4VYvRrGRpjEx5TPV8KPWrPSdih_TbheVdyJen4XmZBmfElkuZwnjfWi8gIvlAyG3jcqJqbMG9FD3uhlJOB7Dw/s320/assassin.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00K0SEPU8">Assassin</a>, a dystopian look at a future UK, is on a countdown deal in the Amazon US store for about a week, currently retailing at $0.99.<br />
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The assassin in the book is a literal gun for hire, who will kill for anyone with the means as long as they aren't part of the congress - lower case techie 'c' deliberate. The congress are what replaced the duly elected government to keep the lid on terrorism, for the good of the people and with the intention to revert to democracy when the time is right. This is set in the relatively near future - it recalls the famous fire of Chester in 2035 so can't be that far in the future, right?<br />
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John, the assassin, is holed up with a beach bum in Cornwall during the mother of all storms and in a drunken lapse reveals his occupation to the beach bum. To allay his fears he tells the tale of how he became the man he is, how he was incarcerated by congress agents after surviving the worst terrorist atrocity on mainland UK in living history, how he was isolated and learned of his families demise at the hands of a terrorist known only as Morris, who hides from the congress in the notionally independent nation of Wales.<br />
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However all is not quite as it seems. There are congress agents staking out the beach accomodation and John has to arrange an escape for himself and his new friend, who turns out to have his own secrets.<br />
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The book is action packed and describes a UK I once thought we were heading towards a few years ago. Interestingly I have started work on the sequel and, in the time honoured fashion of sequels I've built up the backstory, drawing from the original book and adding other events that have happened. The pandemic and the impact on world economies plays a part in that storyline, set around 2060ish, so look out for hat before the end of the year.<br />
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In the meantime, if you are an Amazon.com customer, why not pick up a copy of Assassin while it is on countdown and find out what is in store for the UK after Boris has finished with it?<br />
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Of course, for anyone with Amazon Prime or access to the Kindle Library you can download Assassin or any of my eight other books for free as part of your membershipRay Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-42499580181329338612020-04-21T14:26:00.003+01:002020-04-21T14:28:14.074+01:00The Journeymen is on Countdown offer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5RjLRTAtEQAmmJP5fvhTuQZmKUEtspzSTl7KWGGmp_Ta4qUeWSYC4pnLguk7W0WoC9cg2FLLI2FiI28L7-arGoGBz0QYkUhEO9QjhEXGe-mgodDOs5EzshpZzciOWEYSbN4ti2cUlQ/s1600/Jmen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5RjLRTAtEQAmmJP5fvhTuQZmKUEtspzSTl7KWGGmp_Ta4qUeWSYC4pnLguk7W0WoC9cg2FLLI2FiI28L7-arGoGBz0QYkUhEO9QjhEXGe-mgodDOs5EzshpZzciOWEYSbN4ti2cUlQ/s320/Jmen.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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My second novel, <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B004HW6ANS">The Journeymen</a>, is on countdown offer at Amazon for a few days (until the 26th April). This novel should ring a few bells with those of you who believe you've been unfairly passed over by inferior colleagues or that some people seem to have a disproportionate amount of good luck. In fact, it is a conspiracy theorists book of choice.</div>
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Unlike most conspiracy theories this doesn't just make unsubstantiated links between what we see and hear and draw conclusions that many think are outrageous - it provides an entirely fabricated backstory to hand the lot off.</div>
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OK, bit of background might help you here. We're not the only planet that has created civilisations, or indeed created the means to destroy itself many times over. Part of the focus in this book is one such planet approximately 9 light years away that has been there, done that, destroyed the Tee shirt. In the book it is going through a renaissance following a period, a long time ago, when war nearly destroyed the planet and everything on it. Critically the human stock, who are genetically very similar to us guys and gals, has depleted its genetic diversity to the point that the race is slowly dying out. </div>
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Before the terrible wars that created this situation the planet had developed technology that allowed easy space travel over immense distances and had populated a planet nine light years away (coincidence? I don't think so). They don't have the technology they had so embark on an intergenerational journey to what we call home, only to find things have changed a bit. These guys, by the way, are the Journeymen. A subset of them are a group that becomes sworn enemies, they are known as the Sons of Arlgon, nowadays referred to as the Sons.</div>
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The main problem when they got here, apart from the total loss of the technology they were hoping to harness to return with suitable DNA samples is that the original Journeymen have embedded (and bedded) the original humanoids on our home planet. Luckily for the project, but arguably not for most us, many had kept to their own kind, but many had also bred with the indigenous population. This resulted in the people discovered on arrival as the Colonists (AKA original Journeymen) and Interbreds (AKA IBs, also known as you and me, in the main). </div>
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The Journeymen resolve to protect the Colonists, who generally had managed to secure positions of power and authority, by forming the second tier of authority - the Civil Servants and captains of industry, defending, protecting and directing the Colonists through the generations while the technology necessary to capture DNA and send it through space is developed from an extremely poor starting position. And you thought HS2 was challenging.</div>
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The book starts, though, in the present day when a space vehicle engineer, Tom Roberts, presents a novel invention to help make long term space travel possible. He is attacked, possibly by Sons who will do anything to thwart their sworn enemies, and rescued by a pair of Journeymen who happen to have their own agenda. Tom is effectively imprisoned and ultimately framed for the murder of an ex colleague. He escapes and through a series of adventures helped by a former lover and a reluctant senior Son seeks to secure his freedom. The book interleaves Tom's story with the original Journeymen story, so aspects and subtleties of the history are revealed throughout the novel.</div>
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Back to my original statement about being passed over by less capable colleagues - and I bet you have - they were almost certainly either Journeymen being propelled to a position of power to better protect the Colonists in theoretical power. Don't take it personally and don't try to stop it - none of us have that much power.</div>
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Obviously, if you have access to Kindle Unlimited then this book and its sequel, <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00E2YGA86">Journeymen II: Day of Reckoning</a>, are free. Otherwise, if this sounds like your kind of lockdown reading then why not grab a copy while it is price reduced?</div>
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Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-70307445040505890032020-04-17T22:35:00.002+01:002020-05-05T19:56:21.885+01:00Hotel California is free on the 8th & 9th May<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSD9nw303i3q97-qRzbHaBhbRUSqkQ4a9XV21KuwlVrv7MF9L64xFNu9JMDKDyP-97N3OZP_Jm5d0MdpSOtn7tbmdrBGXrVp0qfyC_ARn1xw3KR_Ilj11sg_Xa5iuLNl6NzSypClUJEw/s1600/Hotel+California.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="218" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSD9nw303i3q97-qRzbHaBhbRUSqkQ4a9XV21KuwlVrv7MF9L64xFNu9JMDKDyP-97N3OZP_Jm5d0MdpSOtn7tbmdrBGXrVp0qfyC_ARn1xw3KR_Ilj11sg_Xa5iuLNl6NzSypClUJEw/s320/Hotel+California.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07K7XC5BZ">Hotel California</a> is free for two days only,8th & 9th May Amazon Standard Time about 08:00 onwards.</div>
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The book is a fast paced adventure, detective and, I'll admit, slightly speculative novel. it's not based on the song by the Eagles, but I freely admit it was inspired by the song. There's no dark desert highway, nor any mention of a mission bell either, come to think of it. </div>
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It does have references to people who you may consider to be dead - they almost certainly are not around anymore and the characters described might just have a passing resemblance to them - you know, the likes of Elvis, for example.</div>
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The book isn't about a character named Elvis. It's about a UK punk rock come reality TV star Ricky Maggot who wants to escape the world of celebrity (don't we all) and books a one-way ticket to a South sea island nicknamed in the music industry as Hotel California. He soon realises he's made a massive mistake and teams up with the eponymous Elvis, who realised the same thing forty years earlier, and sets about trying to escape. Add a couple of Russian gangsters who are hiding from their previous mafia life, a resort manager without a conscience, a killer on the payroll and a music journalist who asks just too many questions and you have a book that you'll storm through in a couple of days, especially if you are on lockdown.</div>
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It's on free for one day only so bookmark it and make sure you take advantage.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #606060; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 110%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.4; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Obviously, if you have access to Kindle Unlimited then you can download this book for free anytime. But for those who haven't got access to that, or as Prime members have already used up their monthly allowance, then this promotion is an affordable way to add it to your library. Put the date in your diary.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #606060; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 110%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.4; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #606060; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 110%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.4; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5904013506874531077#editor/target=post;postID=5849681091607434374;onPublishedMenu=overviewstats;onClosedMenu=overviewstats;postNum=6;src=postname" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #3d59b7; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 14.86px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">My other eight books are also available</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #606060; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 110%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.4; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> for free to Kindle Unlimited members and you can access links to them here.
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-79811817294005440632020-04-12T18:22:00.001+01:002020-04-17T22:20:23.246+01:00Skin is on Countdown promotion starting 14th April<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYy3HVXJLSbcvyTxon3fevOdKD_hNYgaZX4r9l9kBZF8GeKOgweSPrVJmrzUU98iEgMMlKzI0xBRr0FQ-3Erok1kB8Vwo-dO5Kzw0tHi-Mgp3PLG8cJxMM9HbceiIrv9iqlq85d9kDzw/s1600/Skin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYy3HVXJLSbcvyTxon3fevOdKD_hNYgaZX4r9l9kBZF8GeKOgweSPrVJmrzUU98iEgMMlKzI0xBRr0FQ-3Erok1kB8Vwo-dO5Kzw0tHi-Mgp3PLG8cJxMM9HbceiIrv9iqlq85d9kDzw/s320/Skin.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B004KABAH8"></a><br /></div>
<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B004KABAH8">Skin</a> is going on an Amazon countdown deal starting 14th April - not sure which time zone, probably 8 o'clock in the morning somewhere on the West Coast of the US, and runs to the 21st. The way the countdown deals work is that the normal selling price for the book is discounted, with a bigger discount at the beginning of the promotion getting less of a discount the longer you leave it.<br />
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So why Skin? Well, it is a book based in the near future with elements stuck firmly in events of the second Gulf War. There are flashbacks to a failed special ops mission just inside Iraq on the days running up to the shock and awe phase of that war that had unresolved questions for one person in particular, Rory Callum. Rory was engineering support on a Chinook that crashed on that mission and was the only member of the mission to make it out of Iraq alive, however years later there are many important details of his journey back to Kuwait unresolved, while other parts of the mission are on an endless loop every time he sleeps.<br />
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In the book's present, our future, Rory is now working on the fringes of legality, acting as an industrial spy being inserted into manufacturing companies at a low level, usually, and sneaking out details of next year's big product. This time he's inserted into a local manufacturer that has developed something really big, life changing and worth a lot of money to the right investors. It's a development being watched all the way up to the top, with the British Prime Minister of the day indulging in some sneaky insider dealing - no, not Boris, a later replacement for him further down the line.<br />
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But parts of Rory's past start to catch up with him as he carries on his job, working for the enigmatic Max and the sexually disturbed and violently dangerous Melinda and Rory finds himself facing up to a madman called Fabin, who has an ex-Royal Marine killer to assist him. <br />
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The title refers to the process Rory is spying on - a method to create artificial skin that was just science fiction when I wrote the book but is now looking like it will hit the mainstream in some form in the near future. There are parts of the book that are still science fiction, or at least technically difficult and improbable at the moment, but I'll leave you to decide which parts are in which compartment.<br />
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There's a lot of action in this book, from pitched battles in Iraq to manhunts in London in the book's present day. It's a long book, but thanks to the pace you will race through it running from battle to battle, past to present as the story and, critically, Rory's missing memories, are revealed.<br />
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Obviously, if you have access to Kindle Unlimited then you can download this book for free anytime. But for those who haven't got access to that, or as Prime members have already used up their monthly allowance, then this promotion is an affordable way to add it to your laibrary. Put the date in your diary.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5904013506874531077#editor/target=post;postID=5849681091607434374;onPublishedMenu=overviewstats;onClosedMenu=overviewstats;postNum=6;src=postname">My other eight books are also available</a> for free to Kindle Unlimited members and you can access links to them here.Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-13052249494195071342020-04-07T20:17:00.001+01:002021-03-07T16:52:10.612+00:00Project: Evil – The Coronavirus Meeting<br />
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‘Why are we all sat two metres apart?’ asked O’Feld,
fiddling impatiently with his revolver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Daw sighed.<br />
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‘It’s the Government directive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To slow down the spread of Coronavirus
everybody has to keep a social distance between themselves and everyone
else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s playing havoc with the Thugs,
grade three on kill missions,’ he said.<br /><br />
‘Sod the Government directive, I want a group hug,’ said O’Feld,
holding his arms up, not securing any enthusiasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everybody remembered the last time he’d offered
a group hug and it turned out to be a body double wearing a suicide vest.<br /><br />
‘I’ll pass,’ said Daw, tapping his notepad with his pen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silence hung in the air as everyone watched O’Feld’s
reaction, relaxing when he merely shot a henchman delivering sandwiches to the boardroom.<br /><br />
‘He looked like he hadn’t washed his hands properly,’
explained O’Feld, tucking into the beef and horseradish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Brown bread, my favourite,’ he added.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘So, why the emergency?’ he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brian sat up as he’d been detailed by Daw to
present the technical briefing, which consisted of five minutes on Wikipedia
and ten on the BBC website.<br /><br />
‘It’s a pandemic, sweeping across the world, killing people
left, right and centre,’ said Brian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>O’Feld
looked interested, then a cloud crossed his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘It is one of ours, isn’t it?’ he asked in
his Irish brogue, levelling the revolver at Brian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brian flushed, then washed his hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he always did whenever he shit himself.<br /><br />
‘Well, yes, I’m working on a biological weapon, but you
always said you wanted it deployed from space and since we lost our rocket
capability it’s been on hold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been
concentrating on a simpler pocket-sized thermo-nuclear weapon system recently,
tapping his breast pocket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Oops,’ he
said, pulling the device out and stopping the countdown timer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>O’Feld sneered.<br /><br />
‘So, which one is responsible?’ he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Brass Digit?’<br /><br />
‘Gold Digit,’ sighed Daw scribbling on his pad.<br /><br />
‘Or that nippleless bastard Scaramouche?’ asked O’Feld,
reeling off his direct competitors, not that anyone in the room would suggest
any of them was competition for O’Feld.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not waiting for Brian to answer he added, ‘Or is it Doktor Negativ up to
his old tricks again?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brian shook his
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
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‘It started in China,’ he explained.<br /><br />
‘Who did it?’ asked O’Feld, only to be interrupted by the
Diversity Officer.<br /><br />
‘Mr O’Feld, that’s a terrible racial stereotype,’ she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘You’re capable of much better
racial stereotypes.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>O’Feld shrugged his
shoulders and looked back at Brian, who continued his explanation.<br /><br />
‘It appears it is just a random mutation of an existing
coronavirus existing in the animal kingdom that has crossed the species line
and is infecting humans,’ he said, breathing in for the big spiel.<br /><br />
‘Enough of the science talk already,’ said O’Feld, ‘how does
this affect our business?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The catering
manager looked up eagerly.<br />
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‘Half of the staff are self isolating, so my budget is going
to look pretty good next month,’ he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The finance manager looked at Brian.<br />
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<br />
‘How is this affecting our staff levels?’ he asked.<br /><br />
‘Well, here in Basildon there is a lot of absenteeism at the
moment,’ he confirmed, adding, ‘and the hookers and the thugs have agreed to
work from home for the foreseeable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There’s no reports that it has reached our uninhabited island in the
South Seas yet, but I’m concerned that if it does it’ll sweep through the
uninhabitants like a dose of salts,’ said Brian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The meeting fell silent as the members considered
the slave labour uninhabitant population for approximately three seconds.<br /><br />
‘Can they be replaced?’ asked O’Feld. Daw nodded.<br /><br />
‘That’s why you pay me the big bucks to be your HR director,’
he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>O’Feld glowered.<br />
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‘I pay you?’ he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The finance director leaned across the table.<br /><br />
‘Don’t worry, his salary is tax deductable.’<br /><br />
‘I pay tax?’ asked O’Feld, panic rising in everyone downwind
of his revolver barrel.<br /><br />
‘Not so much pay as claim State benefits,’ explained the
finance director, defusing the situation and, critically, the C4 bomb O’Feld
had brought out of his bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He put the
detonator to one side while O’Feld turned his attention back to Brian.<br /><br />
‘So, what’s the impact on the business?’ he asked Brian.<br /><br />
‘Well, it’s pretty much business as usual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The protection racket’s going well, especially
as we take PayPal now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve just issued
social distancing guidance for thugs smashing up premises behind on their
payments,’ he explained, ‘although the hookers are struggling to comply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br /><br />
‘And everyone is washing their hands,’ he added.<br /><br />
‘To eradicate the virus?’ asked O’Feld.<br /><br />
‘Oh, er, yes, that as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But mainly for corporate plausible deniability,’ he explained.<br /><br />
‘What about the people who work here?’ O’Feld asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The finance director was all over this.<br /><br />
‘We can claim 80% of our employees’ salaries from the
Government if we furlough them,’ he said.<br /><br />
‘We pay employees? This gets worse by the minute,’ said O’Feld,
his head in his hands while he contemplated whose head he’d prefer to be
holding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The finance director’s head
looked favourite for leaving his shoulders.<br /><br />
‘Of course not, we feed them, clothe them, kill them when we’ve
had enough of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we’ve got a
wonderful forgery department that can produce any amount of documents
pretending to pay them,’ said the finance director, feeling his head was a
little more secure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brian pitched in, if
only to ensure his head didn’t replace the finance director’s.<br /><br />
‘But, the best bit is, we now know how much they’re prepared
to pay.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>O’Feld looked up,
questioningly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brian continued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Up until now, when we’ve decided to hold the
planet to ransom getting the amount to ask for has always been the hardest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pitch too low and you’re the laughing stock
of the megalomaniac underworld, too high and you’ve got a brace of nukes on
your hands,’ he said, popping the pocket-sized thermo-nuclear device back in
his pocket.<br /><br />
‘But now we know the UK are prepared to pay £350 billion,
the Yanks up to $2 trillion and the Italians 25 pizzas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s easier to make our demands,’ he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The finance director pulled a sheet of paper
from under his notepad that had ‘pay us £2.3 trillion in used notes or the
planet gets it, signed B L O’Feld’ using letters cut out from daily newspapers.<br />
<br />
‘I’ve had this awhile, I only had to insert the amount,’ he
crowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>O’Feld was impressed.<br />
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‘I hope that typeface isn’t from the Daily Mail,’ he said,
standing, indicating that the meeting was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>‘Hateful newspaper’, he said.<br />
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I hope you enjoyed this topical extra Project: Evil instalment. If you have and you missed Project: Evil first time around then catch up on Brian, Daw and, of course, Barry Liam O'Feld, the famous Irish Megalomaniac <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B008PGI1ZW">in the original book</a>.<br />
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You can catch up on any or all of my books in ebook and paperback format on the links provided <a href="https://raysullivanscifizone.blogspot.com/2020/03/working-from-home.html">on this page</a>. If you are a Kindle Unlimited member then these books can be downloaded for free.Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5904013506874531077.post-77052549131048111522020-04-04T21:52:00.000+01:002020-04-04T21:52:05.525+01:00Random thoughts on random Covid 19 testingBack on my current hobby horse - the corona virus pandemic. I've been reading lots of various views around the world today (and the last few days) and there is a consensus forming as far as I can tell. Apart from the fact that most places aren't testing anywhere near as necessary, which I bleated about a couple of times already, the testing isn't helping anywhere near as much as it should.<br />
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OK, many countries are choosing their own way of testing, that's their prerogative in the absence of an international standard. Although the World Health Organisation has stated test, test and test again, and I don't think you could get a bigger nudge towards standardisation than that, it's a little light on direction.<br />
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Statisticians are now claiming that the methods used up to now are not suitable, and the arguments I'm hearing are compelling. We had, in the UK, the herd immunity argument that suggested that by voluntarily socially distancing people you could flatten the now famous curve and save the health care system from imploding, while getting the majority of relatively fit people exposed and presumably immune for the short haul. Completely isolating the vulnerable - and that means identifying them and ensuring they have a suitable support network for the twelve weeks that seems to be the common standard - while the rest of us get the disease, shrug it off in the main, treat the few that react badly sounds like a plan. However the numbers of deaths started to stack up, and the simple requests around social distancing to allow the herd immunity to develop in a controlled manner wasn't being followed by a significant number of people. If it helps, I followed it as far as my employer let me - cramming 22 students into classrooms designed for 18 at a push and rotating them from classroom to classroom every hour and a half didn't help.<br />
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The real problem, well two problems actually, are that many people didn't take the sensible measures to avoid mass contamination seriously and on top of that there wasn't any apparent plan to identify the vulnerable and support them. They're working on that now, but only because we're in lockdown and I'm hearing anecdotal reports of clearly vulnerable people not being on the database the government has compiled.<br />
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But testing as it stands is way below useful. As a minimum the NHS staff need to be tested - and by the way there are 1.2 million of them. Not all doctors and nurses, of course, but receptionists, cooks, cleaners, admin staff all working in close proximity and interacting with the front line guys and gals. And one test each is only a start as someone could be given the all-clear and pick up the virus fuelling up on the way home. <br />
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But the real challenge is knowing where the country is in relation to infection rates. The current process of only testing people who are showing signs of the illness is going to give a fairly high success rate, if determining someone is suffering from Covid 19 can be called success. It makes the hazard rate appear larger than it is, for one thing, and fails to tell us anything about how prevalent the disease is. An analogy I'm going to steal here is one I read online a day or so ago:<br />
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Suppose you wanted to know how popular Ford cars are in your area. One way is to pop over to your local Ford main dealer and ask everyone who walks through the door during a determined period of time, say one day, what make of car they drive. Many will say Ford, because many of us are creatures of habit. That is what the testing has been like in the UK, testing those exhibiting signs of CV. Alternatively pop over to your local Asda (Walmart for US readers) car park and count how many Fords there are and also how many non-Ford cars there are. Don't advertise it, choose a day at random, and you'll get a pretty good idea of how popular Ford cars are in your locality. There should be random testing in supermarkets - there would need to be legislation and the government would need to provide strong guarantees that the data will only be used for CV testing purposes as they would need to know who provided the sample. They would need to provide assurances that persons tested wouldn't have DNA information provided to the police, because that would provide people reasonable excuse to not participate.<br />
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That way we would have a better picture of the distribution of CV in society. It would have been useful to have known where it was before lockdown, but we can't go back there.<br />
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I for one wouldn't have any objections, and would happily share my DNA if it was for a useful purpose. In another world, maybe, I might be more circumspect - if you've read the <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B004HW6ANS">Journeymen</a>, and especially its sequel <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00E2YGA86">Journey Men II: Day of Reckoning</a> you might wonder if the information was being used for other, nefarious reasons. But right now I'd like to think that sorting CV 19 out is our main priority.<br />
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You can access my books on Amazon using the <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5904013506874531077#editor/target=post;postID=5849681091607434374;onPublishedMenu=overviewstats;onClosedMenu=overviewstats;postNum=4;src=link">links provided on this blog post</a>. Stay safe and follow the rules, please.<br />
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<br />Ray Sullivanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09990201672563685136noreply@blogger.com0