In participating in today's writer's group, I presented this excerpt from one of my works in progress: a small sample of my novel, "Perfectly Inhuman." This is a story that's taken me nearly ten years to conceive and start producing into a tangible form.
It has gone through a few different conceptual incarnations; it was first intended to be a straightforward thriller of sorts, about a bunch of people trapped in a hovering research station, being hunted by escaped genetically-engineered monsters. This concept was never really drafted. Later, I decided to have the story take place in a futuristic city instead; I attempted to make a draft out of this, but got stuck, and it was eventually abandoned. Finally, I received the right motivation and inspiration; I flipped the story's structure backwards, turned it into a revenge plot, and it's taken off nicely. I'm currently 115 pages into it, and I see the novel's final acts in plain sight.
The story overall was initially inspired when I first saw the film "Alien: Resurrection" (yeah, not a great film, but seeing what they did to Ellen Ripley's character helped inspire my protagonist a lot), and when I first saw the episode in "Futurama!" where Leela meets her parents for the first time ever. The combination of the two helped me conceive of the encounter that's drafted below. The story overall has evolved into something that I'd describe as a mix of the "Dark Angel" TV series and Fritz Lang's "Metropolis," with a slight pinch of films like "OldBoy," "Aeon Flux," and "The Sixth Day." All of these films have helped inspire me, but it is certainly not my intention to rip any of them off. The "Hunger Games" novels have been a recent source of inspiration as well (only in the sense that it is distopian and shows a strong schism between the rich and the poor).
So, without further ado, here is one of the initial key scenes of the story. Taking place in Cascade City, one of the last remnants of human civilization on Earth, the story follows the pop star Mary E. Weiss. After a thrilling concert, she's fired by her manager. Policemen show up to take Mary away; they shoot her with a paralytic nanite bullet, and she wakes up in a prison cell. You're about to find out why this happened...
Do note that all cursing has been censored for the sake of common decency.
Feel free to critique this work.
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Perfectly Inhuman: Excerpt, Chapter 3
The guards guided Mary through a set of glass doors in the frosted glass partition, and they passed into a wide open office space. The office looked much like the lobby, only instead of statues and banners there were holograms and display screens. Contrasting with the bright floors and the bright exterior view, there was a black desk on one end of the room, made of a rare dark organic wood.
At the desk was a man Mary only new from the news, the network, the posters, and every other form of government propaganda. He was the city’s Mayor, Quentin Warhol. In person, he looked slim and tall, and was dressed in a clean stylish black suit. His head was narrow and angular, with a sharp chin. He had green eyes, resembling laser beams that could scrutinize and penetrate everything he saw. His black hair was neatly combed, and still slick from whatever gel he used.
The Mayor was accompanied by a woman; a slender lady with well-toned muscles in her arms and legs. She was clad in a tight nanobine* outfit with a leather coating. Her face was soft, but her dark eyes were piercing and her dark hair was conveniently tied into a knot at the back of her head. Glowering at Mary with her sharp eyes, she had a surly expression on her face. Mary hated her instantly.
And standing next to the Mayor and the strange woman was Lester**, looking smug. Mary immediately darted toward him with her fist raised. Vicious anger surged through her, thinking about Lester’s betrayal.
Suddenly, Lester pressed the button on his remote taser, shocking Mary. She stumbled in mid-run, crying out in pain and rage. She struggled against the frying nerves, and continued to step toward him, ready to at least punch him in the face.
Then, the strange woman ran up to Mary and kneed her in the gut. With the wind knocked out of her, Mary wheezed. The stranger grabbed her hair and threw her head into the desk, shooting pain into her cheek and making her jaw ache. She tasted blood in her mouth. The pain, the rage, the iron taste, and the sudden realization that she was helpless and alone, Mary started weeping feebly.
“Enough!” Quentin demanded. “Tina, stand down. You’ll damage her.”
The strange woman named Tina obediently stepped back and stood perfectly still by the desk, though she still glowered wickedly at Mary with a smug little smile.
Gradually, Mary got to her feet. Her guards caught up to her and grabbed her arms, holding her still before the Mayor and his company. Swallowing the blood in her mouth, she asked, “What’s the meaning of all this?”
Turning to Lester, Quentin asked, “You haven’t told her yet?”
“What’s the point?” Lester replied. “We’re going to wipe her memory anyway.”
“Come now, the lady would probably be much more willing and a lot less afraid if she knew the truth.”
“What truth?” Mary demanded. “What the frakk are you all talking about?”
“Watch your filthy tongue, slut,” Tina snapped with a scowl.
Quentin told Mary, “You must excuse my Elite Security Commander. She can actually be quite the respectable lady when she wants to be. Can’t you, dear Tina?”
“Mary Weiss is a whore,” Tina remarked, still glaring at Mary. “I don’t see why any of this is necessary. Let me take care of her instead. I can do it very painlessly and easily; a simple snap of the spine, and she’ll be out of her misery.”
“No Tina, you will not kill the guest of honor,” Quentin chuckled. “There are some HLF terrorists being held in the courtyard prison house; you can kill one of them.”
“With pleasure, as always,” Tina sighed, before strolling out of the office.
When she was gone, Quentin continued, “Now, I only think it’s fair that you should know what’s going on, what we plan to do with you, and why. As you may have surmised, Lester and I are close acquaintances; a liaison with the North Island Record Company, so I can have a loose connection with the city’s entertainment industry.”
“So the government controls North Island?”
“We control more than you realize. Freedom in Cascade City, or the world for that matter, is only an illusion. And for the past five years, you’ve helped us maintain that illusion, effectively distracting the masses from things that they would otherwise find problematic.”
Indignantly, Mary retorted, “I am not a sideshow!”
“Of course not. You’re a cultural phenomenon! But your purpose is distraction. Let me put it to you this way: if a city guard catches a criminal and rightfully executes him in the street, witnesses see it, tell others, and word spreads all over that the police murdered someone. Before long, people start making demands. They ask for human rights and civility. They protest and complain. They say that the government is corrupt, tyrannical, and evil. That’s negative press, and it affects everybody. Negativity seethes into the city and turns its people sour, and in turn forces me to take even more drastic measures. Remember, it was only seven years ago that the Human Liberation Front infiltrated Capitol Tower and assassinated the Director of Censorship.”
“I remember hearing about that,” Mary muttered. It was a major incident in which hundreds of rebels stormed the Capitol district and killed many police guards.
“Undoubtedly. That kind of news affects people and their opinions. And if these kinds of incidents keep reaching people, they start siding with the rebels, and little by little we lose this city.
“But you give them something good and positive, to balance out all this harsh negative reality. You provide the escapism, and make people feel good. You promote the freedom that people really want; freedom of love and sexuality. With those things alone, people don’t care about murderous policemen, terrorists, or anything else. Mary, thanks to you, this city is the most peaceful and prosperous in the world!”
Being praised so richly, Mary felt awkward, and she stammered, “Well, thank you, I guess.”
“There are a dozen popular artists working for the North Island Record Company now; their work will continue to entice the people for generations to come. Your role in this is over. Your career is officially retired. It’s time for you to move on.”
“What are you talking about?” Mary demanded. “I was just telling Lester that I want a new concept album! I can make better work still! I can make something that tells the people how I really think and feel!”
“But that’s not what we want, Mary.”
Mary’s heart sank and a frown crossed her face, when she realized just how forcibly her career was ending. With a chuckle, Quentin continued, “Did you not hear what I said? We want escapism! If you intend to populate your music with cold hard reality, then the fantasy is broken, and the people start losing interest.”
“But…what about my creativity? My art? I still have so much I can do!”
“This is not about art! Let me tell you, there have been thousands of so-called artists in the thousands of years of history before the Great Floods! Some preached about freedom, others argued for the necessity of control. Some spoke of love and others about hate. Some of these artists were praised for their work, and others were burned at the stake! It’s all subjective Mary; all art is judged by the observers and the critics, not the artist. If your message doesn’t coincide with my objectives, then I will burn you at the sake like the heretic you are.”
“You frakk!”
Smirking, Quentin said, “Mary, you have such a perfect body. It’s only your attitude that needs adjusting.”
Lester shrugged and said, “Sorry sir, but five years being spoiled rotten, in the hands of so many men, made her a little too demanding and conceited.”
“Indeed. I hope the memory wipe will alter this.”
“It will be a whole new personality.”
Feeling dread in the pit of her stomach, Mary questioned, “What are you talking about? Why are you going to mess around with my mind?”
“Like I was saying, Mary, your career is over. Another artist will take your place; probably that Sylvia Lockhart***. You will become a whole new woman. You will be my wife.”
The words felt like daggers in her ears, and she was disgusted at the very thought of marrying Quentin. She spitefully retorted, “Like Hell I will! You have a really awful way of proposing! I’ll never be your wife! Forget you!”
Lester held up his remote taser, but Quentin restrained him and said, “You will be mine. It’s all been arranged already. It’s perfect; a partner like you can really boost my prestige and give a good impression to the people.”
“You can’t do this! You can’t make me do anything! I have rights!”
“No you don’t Mary. Only human beings in this city have civil rights.”
“Are you calling me an animal? I am a human being just like anybody else! Don’t tell me I have no rights!”
“No Mary, I seriously mean it. Legally, you have no rights. You are not a human being. You are a clone.”
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*Nanobine is a fictitious form of clothing in this story; it is a type of material using nanites (microscopic robots) to allow for changing shape, sizes, colors, and strength. Nanobine is a common, albeit expensive, material in Cascade City.
** Lester was Mary's manager during her employment in the North Island Record Company. He was responsible for incapacitating Mary and bringing her to the Mayor's office.
*** Sylvia Lockhart is another pop singer in the employ of the North Island Record Company. Mary and Sylvia are rivals, even though they work for the same corporation.
Copyright 2012 Alan Paananen, all rights reserved.
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