Problogue
After completing "Sphere" by Michael Crichton, and contemplating on how I really should be writing in my journals, I decided to finish the start of the Prologue for my short novelette "Arthon Prime", which I am sure y'all remember reading a while back. Chapter 3 is coming, so stay put - but in the mean time, indulge your science fiction cravings with this - it's ROUGH mind you - hence there are most likely many spelling/grammatical errors - so no bitching. I recommend that you listen to my tune "Construct" on my music site while reading this.
PROLOGUE: IVONNE
Stars whirred into long curvy lines. A ragged middle-aged man flipped slowly in the reflection of Commander Greavey's mirror. Greavey, a skinny old ratfaced man, stretched his arms - cracking a few joints in the process. His room, glowing purple from his cysectonian aquarium, was filled with the brewing bellows of an electrombone - coming from the camouflaged speakers in the roof of the Regen-Room. Deeply inhaling a mauve gas emanating from a cylindrical spout reminiscent of a shower head, Ivonne quickly shifted into a sleepy stupor.
"Dreams are almost non-existant when you are under the gas blanket. They produce a certain 'aurora borealis' of the mind, colours that are constantly shifting hues, desaturating and resaturating, in an arrhythmic fashion.", Lars, assistant commander of the Greensphere, explained, gazing at Ivonne's floating body. "But if there are no dreams, and just colours, wouldn't that just get kind of...", Greavey, a stocky ageing man, hesitated. "Kind of what?", Greaves continued, "You know: boring, mediocre -" Lars interrupted him - "It's not boring. You can't even tell what is and isn't boring. The mind completely shuts off - it's very similar to what those of the old times would call 'meditation'.". Officer Greavey shook his head, "It just doesn't seem right - I mean, sure natural sleep doesn't have as many benefits, or..or enhanced cell regeneration - all that scientific shit, but it is sure as hell better than constantly inhaling that stuff." The commander smirked "None of this ever seems right - well, we best let him rest, big day ahead of him right? First mission's always tedious - I suggest officer you review your coordinates", Greaves retorted: "But-" Lars raised an eyebrow "Rule 367 of the S.X.C.C memorandum: do not question your superior's orders. NOW GET MOVING!" the officer quivered in irritation, "y-yes sir".
Ivonne's thoughts and worries drifted away, blackness melted into a kaleidoscope of hazy colours, some, he thought to himself, he had never seen before.
*****
Ivonne vomited - slopping brown juice all over the sink and mirror of the mess hall bathroom. His vomit tasted like the gas from his Regen-Sleep - nausea was not uncommon after the hibernation process, as the nitrox (nitrogen saturated oxygen) entered the blood stream, the body adapts and begins to thrive off the gas. However, when immediately exposed to earth-sim. atmosphere, after a full regen. cycle, the cerebrum is overwhelmed - which may force the body to flush out all remnants of the gas, using whatever means of waste secretion necessary. Although this rarely ever occurred, for it was standard procedure to ingest drugs to lessen the nauseating effects of extraction. Ivonne, however, viewed drugs simply as more "nausea", more impairment - his confidence in his immune system and health had created an almost "hubris" like state in him, similar to the feeling of those who never got sick or broke a bone.
Ivonne cleaned himself up with the wash towel, and sprayed the sink clean by pressurizing the flowing tap with his thumb - like a hose. He had realised, after staring deeply into his reflection, that he looked like hell. "Captain Pierre Ivonne - please report to the bridge immediately, your training has been completed. It is time for your first mission. You have 15 minutes for preparation - congratulations sir."
PROLOGUE: IVONNE
Stars whirred into long curvy lines. A ragged middle-aged man flipped slowly in the reflection of Commander Greavey's mirror. Greavey, a skinny old ratfaced man, stretched his arms - cracking a few joints in the process. His room, glowing purple from his cysectonian aquarium, was filled with the brewing bellows of an electrombone - coming from the camouflaged speakers in the roof of the Regen-Room. Deeply inhaling a mauve gas emanating from a cylindrical spout reminiscent of a shower head, Ivonne quickly shifted into a sleepy stupor.
"Dreams are almost non-existant when you are under the gas blanket. They produce a certain 'aurora borealis' of the mind, colours that are constantly shifting hues, desaturating and resaturating, in an arrhythmic fashion.", Lars, assistant commander of the Greensphere, explained, gazing at Ivonne's floating body. "But if there are no dreams, and just colours, wouldn't that just get kind of...", Greavey, a stocky ageing man, hesitated. "Kind of what?", Greaves continued, "You know: boring, mediocre -" Lars interrupted him - "It's not boring. You can't even tell what is and isn't boring. The mind completely shuts off - it's very similar to what those of the old times would call 'meditation'.". Officer Greavey shook his head, "It just doesn't seem right - I mean, sure natural sleep doesn't have as many benefits, or..or enhanced cell regeneration - all that scientific shit, but it is sure as hell better than constantly inhaling that stuff." The commander smirked "None of this ever seems right - well, we best let him rest, big day ahead of him right? First mission's always tedious - I suggest officer you review your coordinates", Greaves retorted: "But-" Lars raised an eyebrow "Rule 367 of the S.X.C.C memorandum: do not question your superior's orders. NOW GET MOVING!" the officer quivered in irritation, "y-yes sir".
Ivonne's thoughts and worries drifted away, blackness melted into a kaleidoscope of hazy colours, some, he thought to himself, he had never seen before.
*****
Ivonne vomited - slopping brown juice all over the sink and mirror of the mess hall bathroom. His vomit tasted like the gas from his Regen-Sleep - nausea was not uncommon after the hibernation process, as the nitrox (nitrogen saturated oxygen) entered the blood stream, the body adapts and begins to thrive off the gas. However, when immediately exposed to earth-sim. atmosphere, after a full regen. cycle, the cerebrum is overwhelmed - which may force the body to flush out all remnants of the gas, using whatever means of waste secretion necessary. Although this rarely ever occurred, for it was standard procedure to ingest drugs to lessen the nauseating effects of extraction. Ivonne, however, viewed drugs simply as more "nausea", more impairment - his confidence in his immune system and health had created an almost "hubris" like state in him, similar to the feeling of those who never got sick or broke a bone.
Ivonne cleaned himself up with the wash towel, and sprayed the sink clean by pressurizing the flowing tap with his thumb - like a hose. He had realised, after staring deeply into his reflection, that he looked like hell. "Captain Pierre Ivonne - please report to the bridge immediately, your training has been completed. It is time for your first mission. You have 15 minutes for preparation - congratulations sir."
posted by J-kash at 5:14 PM
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