You know you have problems...
When you spend a better part of your free time writing a four-page short sci-fi rewrite of a fairy tale when you would have gotten full marks for 400 words.
In any case, I will share with everyone the fruits of my slightly crappy labour. Enjoy.
Once, a long long time in the future, there was a woman who was addicted to a certain prescription drug commonly known as Altair. She craved it so badly that she lost all her money bribing doctors to prescribe it for. For a while, she tried to live without it, but when she could take it no longer she attempted to break into a private pharmacy in the 2nd Quadrant. It was then that she was brought to the attention of the CEO of Intraglobe, the company that manufactured the drug.
Had the woman been just another junkie, he would have dismissed her offhand. But because she was now in the second trimester of pregnancy, his interest was piqued. He appeared before her with a deal: he would give her an unlimited supply of Altair if she would sign over to him her unborn child. The woman hesitated only briefly. After all, she thought, what kind of life could she give a child? She had nothing.
She died soon after the birth, smiling in her drug-induced sleep. The CEO had a keen sense of irony. He named her son Altair.
Altair had no physical deformities. In fact, despite his mother’s drug addiction, he was a perfectly normal child, perhaps even above average. It was only after he had learned to speak that it became clear he was far above average.
“Show me what you’ve learned this year,” said the CEO, during one of his rare visits.
“Alright,” said Altair, and dutifully recited all the new words he had learned. Then he squinted, clenched his small fists, and watched with the pride born of hard work as the CEO’s teacup float five inches above the table. Then he took a bow.
Immediately after that visit, the CEO had Altair moved from a tiny apartment in the 2nd Quadrant to the suite on the two hundredth floor of the Intraglobe building, at the centre of the 1st Quadrant. The suite was luxurious, with all the comforts afforded the richest citizens of the city. It was filled with books and holoscreens and giant gleaming machines that ran Altair through endless tests of his telekinetic abilities.
No one other than the CEO was permitted to enter. The only way up was by a highly secluded elevator on the first floor of the Intraglobe building: an elevator that was powered not by electricity, but by Altair’s telekinesis. Whenever the CEO wanted to visit, he would enter the elevator and press a red button on the communications panel.
“The stars shine brighter in the thinner air,” he would say, his voice booming through the suite, and Altair would drop whatever he was doing to bring the elevator two hundred floors up.
And so it was for many years. Altair grew into a pleasant, intelligent young man. Since he had never had human contact, he had no idea what he was missing, and was perfectly content with books, music, and the movies on the holoscreen. When he felt anything he thought might be loneliness, he dismissed it immediately. He did not want to appear ungrateful for the life the CEO had given him.
On the lower floors of the Intraglobe building there was a cyborg who worked as a janitor. His upper torso and most of his face had been destroyed in an accident when he was young, and been replaced with plastic-covered steel, which was of only serviceable quality because he hadn’t had the money for a private hospital. Although he was well treated by his co-workers and family, people felt uncomfortable around him, and he was secretly very lonely.
One day he was mopping a corridor on the first floor when he saw a strange man - it was, in fact, the CEO, but the cyborg could not have known this - enter an elevator which he had presumed to be out of service. Curious, he listened at the door and heard the man speak the password. Then the elevator began to rise.
The cyborg tried to forget what he had seen, but his curiosity was too strong. Several days later, he entered the elevator himself and spoke the words hoarsely into the communications panel.
“The stars shine brighter in the thinner air.”
Altair was surprised that the CEO would visit him again so soon, but he dutifully used his telekinesis to lift the elevator to the two hundredth floor. Something happened that had never happened before: the doors opened and a stranger came out.
“Ah,” said Altair, so shocked he nearly dropped the elevator.
“Ah,” said the cyborg, almost as shocked as Altair.
After the cyborg explained that he meant no harm, Altair was extremely happy about meeting a human other than the CEO. He invited the cyborg to stay and talk for a while. Having been surrounded by nothing but machines all his life, he found nothing odd about the cyborg’s appearance, and he was so excited to meet him that he wouldn’t have cared anyway. They spent most of the evening together, and when the cyborg finally had to leave, Altair made him promise to come and visit again soon.
From that day on, They tried to see each other as often as possible. It wasn’t easy. The cyborg couldn’t get into the Intraglobe building in the first place except to work, and he had to make sure that no one was watching when he entered the elevator. Altair, unable to leave the 200th floor, could only spend each day waiting to see if he would come by.
Before they knew it, the cyborg and Altair had become extremely close to one another.
One evening they were watching the sun set over the city. The day was a little cloudy, so that the millions of lights were covered with a pale grey veil. It was beautiful, and Altair said as much.
“Do you ever think about going down there?” asked the cyborg.
Altair paused for a moment. “I didn’t used to,” he said. “But now, yeah. I think about it a lot.”
“Listen. I, uh, I have an apartment in the 4th Quadrant. It’s not that big, and the holoscreen only gets the basic package, but there’s a public library nearby, and it would be really great if you wanted to-”
“Yes,” said Altair, and took the cyborg’s hand in his. “I’d like that.”
So they made plans to leave together.
During all this time, the CEO had been meaning to visit Altair but was always too busy to manage it. One day he was seized with a desire to see his foster child and keyed up video surveillance tapes of the suite on the 200th floor.
The CEO was not a sentimental man, and had done many cruel things in his life. Nevertheless he did care for Altair, and when he saw that he had been meeting with a cyborg janitor, he was horrified. It was unacceptable to him that this young man who he had sheltered his whole life could be involved with so worthless a person.
The very next evening he had the cyborg called to his office. There he fired him, and in his anger, ripped out his fibreglass optics and crushed them beneath his feet. The cyborg was thrown out onto the street.
“The stars shine brighter in the thinner air,” said the CEO into the communications panel in the elevator that lead to the 200th floor. Altair, who had no reason to believe the CEO would visit him after such a long absence, thought he was the cyborg and lifted the elevator up.
The CEO confronted Altair and asked if he had been meeting with a lowly cyborg. If he had said no, the CEO would have been willing to forgive him.
“Yes,” said Altair calmly, and the CEO pushed him out the window.
Altair fell for a very long time, staring at the stars as they grew hazier and hazier. Then, with a tremendous amount of effort, he used his telekinesis to slow his fall and drifted to the ground like a feather. Few people even noticed his descent.
He stood at the foot of the Intraglobe building for a while, staring blankly at the place in which he had lived most of his life. He was alone and penniless, but finally he was free.
Several years passed. The cyborg looked for a new job, but no one was willing to hire a blind janitor, and without money there was no way to get new eyes. His funds ran out and he lost his apartment. All of this would have meant nothing if Altair had been beside him, but he was terribly lonely, and when he thought of Altair he felt as though his heart was breaking. He wandered the streets of the 4th Quadrant, the machinery of his body wearing out, hoping at most for a quick death rather than a slow breaking down of parts.
It was on one of these days that Altair saw him again.
Altair had been working in the kitchen of a rehab home for prescription drug addicts. Part of his payment was the leftovers from meals, and he usually left it out for other people on the street. He had assumed the man was new to the area and planned on asking if he wanted a sandwich.
When he saw that it was the cyborg, he called out, but he didn’t even turn around. He was too lost in loneliness to hear Altair’s voice. Altair turned him around, but he was blind and could not recognize him. Altair was devastated. They were so close to each other again, and yet unable to reach one another.
He knew what he had to do. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, as he had when he was a child. Stopping his own fall from the 200th floor had taken a great deal of telekinetic power, but this would take more, probably exhaust him for good. It didn’t matter.
Slowly and carefully, he lifted the very atoms from the world around him to repair the cyborg’s broken eyes. When they saw Altair’s face, it seemed as though tears would fall from the fibreglass.
“The stars shine brighter in the thinner air,” said the cyborg.
“Probably,” said Altair, and took hold of his hand again, very gently. They were finally together.
The rest of the story is between the two of them. Suffice it to say that they were very happy together, and they remained so for the larger part of their lives. And now we have come to the end of the story.
In any case, I will share with everyone the fruits of my slightly crappy labour. Enjoy.
Once, a long long time in the future, there was a woman who was addicted to a certain prescription drug commonly known as Altair. She craved it so badly that she lost all her money bribing doctors to prescribe it for. For a while, she tried to live without it, but when she could take it no longer she attempted to break into a private pharmacy in the 2nd Quadrant. It was then that she was brought to the attention of the CEO of Intraglobe, the company that manufactured the drug.
Had the woman been just another junkie, he would have dismissed her offhand. But because she was now in the second trimester of pregnancy, his interest was piqued. He appeared before her with a deal: he would give her an unlimited supply of Altair if she would sign over to him her unborn child. The woman hesitated only briefly. After all, she thought, what kind of life could she give a child? She had nothing.
She died soon after the birth, smiling in her drug-induced sleep. The CEO had a keen sense of irony. He named her son Altair.
Altair had no physical deformities. In fact, despite his mother’s drug addiction, he was a perfectly normal child, perhaps even above average. It was only after he had learned to speak that it became clear he was far above average.
“Show me what you’ve learned this year,” said the CEO, during one of his rare visits.
“Alright,” said Altair, and dutifully recited all the new words he had learned. Then he squinted, clenched his small fists, and watched with the pride born of hard work as the CEO’s teacup float five inches above the table. Then he took a bow.
Immediately after that visit, the CEO had Altair moved from a tiny apartment in the 2nd Quadrant to the suite on the two hundredth floor of the Intraglobe building, at the centre of the 1st Quadrant. The suite was luxurious, with all the comforts afforded the richest citizens of the city. It was filled with books and holoscreens and giant gleaming machines that ran Altair through endless tests of his telekinetic abilities.
No one other than the CEO was permitted to enter. The only way up was by a highly secluded elevator on the first floor of the Intraglobe building: an elevator that was powered not by electricity, but by Altair’s telekinesis. Whenever the CEO wanted to visit, he would enter the elevator and press a red button on the communications panel.
“The stars shine brighter in the thinner air,” he would say, his voice booming through the suite, and Altair would drop whatever he was doing to bring the elevator two hundred floors up.
And so it was for many years. Altair grew into a pleasant, intelligent young man. Since he had never had human contact, he had no idea what he was missing, and was perfectly content with books, music, and the movies on the holoscreen. When he felt anything he thought might be loneliness, he dismissed it immediately. He did not want to appear ungrateful for the life the CEO had given him.
On the lower floors of the Intraglobe building there was a cyborg who worked as a janitor. His upper torso and most of his face had been destroyed in an accident when he was young, and been replaced with plastic-covered steel, which was of only serviceable quality because he hadn’t had the money for a private hospital. Although he was well treated by his co-workers and family, people felt uncomfortable around him, and he was secretly very lonely.
One day he was mopping a corridor on the first floor when he saw a strange man - it was, in fact, the CEO, but the cyborg could not have known this - enter an elevator which he had presumed to be out of service. Curious, he listened at the door and heard the man speak the password. Then the elevator began to rise.
The cyborg tried to forget what he had seen, but his curiosity was too strong. Several days later, he entered the elevator himself and spoke the words hoarsely into the communications panel.
“The stars shine brighter in the thinner air.”
Altair was surprised that the CEO would visit him again so soon, but he dutifully used his telekinesis to lift the elevator to the two hundredth floor. Something happened that had never happened before: the doors opened and a stranger came out.
“Ah,” said Altair, so shocked he nearly dropped the elevator.
“Ah,” said the cyborg, almost as shocked as Altair.
After the cyborg explained that he meant no harm, Altair was extremely happy about meeting a human other than the CEO. He invited the cyborg to stay and talk for a while. Having been surrounded by nothing but machines all his life, he found nothing odd about the cyborg’s appearance, and he was so excited to meet him that he wouldn’t have cared anyway. They spent most of the evening together, and when the cyborg finally had to leave, Altair made him promise to come and visit again soon.
From that day on, They tried to see each other as often as possible. It wasn’t easy. The cyborg couldn’t get into the Intraglobe building in the first place except to work, and he had to make sure that no one was watching when he entered the elevator. Altair, unable to leave the 200th floor, could only spend each day waiting to see if he would come by.
Before they knew it, the cyborg and Altair had become extremely close to one another.
One evening they were watching the sun set over the city. The day was a little cloudy, so that the millions of lights were covered with a pale grey veil. It was beautiful, and Altair said as much.
“Do you ever think about going down there?” asked the cyborg.
Altair paused for a moment. “I didn’t used to,” he said. “But now, yeah. I think about it a lot.”
“Listen. I, uh, I have an apartment in the 4th Quadrant. It’s not that big, and the holoscreen only gets the basic package, but there’s a public library nearby, and it would be really great if you wanted to-”
“Yes,” said Altair, and took the cyborg’s hand in his. “I’d like that.”
So they made plans to leave together.
During all this time, the CEO had been meaning to visit Altair but was always too busy to manage it. One day he was seized with a desire to see his foster child and keyed up video surveillance tapes of the suite on the 200th floor.
The CEO was not a sentimental man, and had done many cruel things in his life. Nevertheless he did care for Altair, and when he saw that he had been meeting with a cyborg janitor, he was horrified. It was unacceptable to him that this young man who he had sheltered his whole life could be involved with so worthless a person.
The very next evening he had the cyborg called to his office. There he fired him, and in his anger, ripped out his fibreglass optics and crushed them beneath his feet. The cyborg was thrown out onto the street.
“The stars shine brighter in the thinner air,” said the CEO into the communications panel in the elevator that lead to the 200th floor. Altair, who had no reason to believe the CEO would visit him after such a long absence, thought he was the cyborg and lifted the elevator up.
The CEO confronted Altair and asked if he had been meeting with a lowly cyborg. If he had said no, the CEO would have been willing to forgive him.
“Yes,” said Altair calmly, and the CEO pushed him out the window.
Altair fell for a very long time, staring at the stars as they grew hazier and hazier. Then, with a tremendous amount of effort, he used his telekinesis to slow his fall and drifted to the ground like a feather. Few people even noticed his descent.
He stood at the foot of the Intraglobe building for a while, staring blankly at the place in which he had lived most of his life. He was alone and penniless, but finally he was free.
Several years passed. The cyborg looked for a new job, but no one was willing to hire a blind janitor, and without money there was no way to get new eyes. His funds ran out and he lost his apartment. All of this would have meant nothing if Altair had been beside him, but he was terribly lonely, and when he thought of Altair he felt as though his heart was breaking. He wandered the streets of the 4th Quadrant, the machinery of his body wearing out, hoping at most for a quick death rather than a slow breaking down of parts.
It was on one of these days that Altair saw him again.
Altair had been working in the kitchen of a rehab home for prescription drug addicts. Part of his payment was the leftovers from meals, and he usually left it out for other people on the street. He had assumed the man was new to the area and planned on asking if he wanted a sandwich.
When he saw that it was the cyborg, he called out, but he didn’t even turn around. He was too lost in loneliness to hear Altair’s voice. Altair turned him around, but he was blind and could not recognize him. Altair was devastated. They were so close to each other again, and yet unable to reach one another.
He knew what he had to do. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, as he had when he was a child. Stopping his own fall from the 200th floor had taken a great deal of telekinetic power, but this would take more, probably exhaust him for good. It didn’t matter.
Slowly and carefully, he lifted the very atoms from the world around him to repair the cyborg’s broken eyes. When they saw Altair’s face, it seemed as though tears would fall from the fibreglass.
“The stars shine brighter in the thinner air,” said the cyborg.
“Probably,” said Altair, and took hold of his hand again, very gently. They were finally together.
The rest of the story is between the two of them. Suffice it to say that they were very happy together, and they remained so for the larger part of their lives. And now we have come to the end of the story.