Yet Still Even More Things I Could Get Out of My Mind
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About this ebook
Another collection of six short speculative fictions by William Mangieri, in which we learn some life lessons:
What it is to be human
Memory is grey and squishy
The past is all we can be sure of
It’s not over until it’s over
Maybe we can have it all
We are more than our status
Includes the short stories:
Mutiny on the Star-Bound
A night at a carnival takes an odd turn for Martin Henshaw, a humble digital mechanic who is tricked into a job with Transgalaxian, tending cybers far from home. But when he finds himself in the middle of a mutiny on the Star-Bound, Martin begins to wonder: who’s rebelling against whom?
Reconcilable Differences
Madeline doesn’t have much hope for her forty-six year marriage; Carl just refuses to remember what ‘s important. What hope could there be, with all the irreconcilable differences in the way they each see things? Maybe Memory Replacement Therapy holds the answer.
New Antiques
Tim Crabtree takes time out of his daily harassment by the local bullies to wonder why his new neighbors have built a forty-foot pole in their backyard. Are they trying to get hit by lightning? If he only knew...
Dead End Jobs
Bryan Riggins doesn't know how long he's been drifting around, but he needs a change, and finds himself waiting in line for a job interview. But what waits for him behind that door?
The Re-Entanglement of Grant Decker
Are we simply the sum of the choices we’ve made? What happened to all the other possibilities? Grant can't keep his reality in focus, and he doesn’t know whether his life is coming apart or coming together. He's never been one to talk to himself, but maybe it's time.
Anti-Social
A home body struggles to break social conventions and reach out into a world that's becoming less and less substantial. How do you make yourself real?
(stories also available individually)
William Mangieri
William Mangieri is a karaoke junkie, former theater student, and recovered wargamer who spends as much time wondering "what if?" as "why not?". He writes from Texas, where he and his family live at the mercy of the ghost of a nine-pound westie.William writes mostly speculative fiction (that’s science fiction, fantasy and horror), although he also has a detective series with a soft sci-fi element (Detective Jimmy Delaney.) He completed writing his first novel (Swordsmaster) in 2019; prior to this, he has honed his skills on short fiction. He has been published in Daily Science Fiction and The Anarchist, and six of his stories have earned Honorable Mentions in the Writers of the Future contest.
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Yet Still Even More Things I Could Get Out of My Mind - William Mangieri
Yet Still Even More Things I Could Get
Out of My Mind
A collection of short speculative fictions
by William Mangieri
Copyright 2015 by William Mangieri
Smashwords Edition
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Stories contained in this collection are copyrighted by the author:
Anti-Social, Mutiny on the Star-Bound, The Re-Entanglement of Grant Decker, Reconcilable Differences: Copyright 2013
Dead End Jobs, New Antiques : Copyright 2014
Table of Contents
Mutiny on the Star-Bound
Reconcilable Differences
New Antiques
Dead End Jobs
The Re-Entanglement of Grant Decker
Anti-Social
Origins
About the Author
Mutiny on the Star-Bound
Martin Henshaw stepped away from the carnival concession line with two big bags of cotton candy and scanned the crowd for Marge and the girls. He didn't have much success - he'd always found the noise of the calliope and the flashing night-time lights a bit disorienting. He stood in the middle of the lane and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to filter out some of the chaos, until a girl's voice floated above the din.
Daddy! Daddy! Over here!
Martin opened his eyes and saw Ginnie, the younger of his two teenage girls jumping up and down by a ticket kiosk. Her older sister Debbie was struggling between embarrassment at Ginny's antics and her own barely more subdued excitement as she pointed at the kiosk and talked hurriedly with Marge. Martin read the flashing screen as he dodged his way through fairgoers to rejoin his family.
CHILI-BOWL BOYS' SHOW BEGINS IN 17 MINUTES
Of course they were excited, Martin thought. They'd been jabbering about their favorite boy band for weeks, ever since they found out they were coming to town with the summer carnival. The girls had lost their appreciation for the carnival's wonder; now it was just a vehicle for the latest pop fad. Martin wasn't sure he was up for all the screaming.
A biped advertising bot suddenly blocked Martin's view of the kiosk, its mechanical hands fluttering on either side of its seventeen-inch display screen as it flashed FOLLOW ME TO THE TRANSGALAXIAN STATION. This one must have been having problems with its avoidance routines; each time Martin tried to side-step it, it kept its position between him and the girls. He felt foolish, as though he was in some sort of bizarre dance.
Stop playing around, Martin, we'll be late!
Marge called out to him.
You heard her,
Martin said apologetically. I have to go.
The bot's screen changed to DIGITAL MECHANIC MARTIN HENSHAW, YOU ARE NEEDED - COME WITH ME.
So, it had good facial recognition and network marketing routines; any other time, Martin would have engaged it in conversation, but his girls were waiting. If he'd been anyone else, he would have knocked it aside, but Martin Henshaw couldn't; he'd had so many of the units he'd worked on behave in ways that made them seem almost human, it just didn't seem right to strike one. Plus, he knew what serious damage it could cause to the bot, as well as his wallet; TransGalaxian wasn't some small company to be trifled with.
He spotted his employer's service tag, and read the model and serial number off the shoulder plate: GM3-020L. He knew this unit.
Jimmy O'Toole!
Martin said.
The bot nodded.
People always razzed him about giving bots names, but if he was going to talk to them anyway - something else he'd caught plenty of grief over - then why not?
I fixed you up a couple of months ago. Guess you need more work.
And then the fool bot clamped a hand around Martin's wrist, and that clinched it. Well, he hadn't wanted to sit through the concert, and this was as good an excuse as any.
You'd best go on without me!
he shouted to Marge, pointing at the bot's death grip with his free hand. I'll catch up with you later.
Marge gave him one of her annoyed but amused head-shakes took the girls' hands and headed off through the crowd as Jimmy O'Toole began walking in a different direction, with Martin in tow. He made a couple of half-hearted attempts to release the bot's grip, but it seemed to be more determined than he was, so he gave up.
Martin thought about how his supervisor would have blamed Jimmy's behavior on Martin leaving its limiter in maintenance mode, but Martin didn't like hobbling the cybers, despite what the manuals said. Sure, his bots might develop some inconvenient quirks, but they were more adaptable, better servants for the two weeks before their limiters automatically reset to operational mode. What harm could that do?
The bot finally stopped across the way from a tent not like the others; instead of canvas, it was made of a shimmery, silver-black fabric that seemed full of stars as it reflected the carnival's night lights. An LED banner arching over the entrance proclaimed BE THERE FOR THE FIRST TRANSGALAXIAN COLONY!, and a barker in a spacesuit stood beneath it, gesturing wildly and shouting.
Step right up! Come on in and find the answers to life's boredom!
The man was crazy to be wearing a spacesuit, especially as hot as it was in Texas in July - even at night. And it wasn't one of those advanced suits like Martin had seen in those videos of the Titan mission, or the Mars colonizations. This was a bulky white monster of a thing - it looked like a museum-type suit from the old moon landings. Martin could see the sweat streaming down the man's neck; at least he'd had the sense to not wear the helmet.
As much as the man was gesticulating, you'd have thought someone would have stopped to listen. They just walked this way and that, heading from one ride to another, oblivious.
Are you tired of the crowds?
the barker continued. Tired of the same old humdrum, whatcha-gonna-do-that's-different-tonight runaround? Who wants old Burt Jones to help them get some excitement back in their days?
Jimmy suddenly raised both it and Martin's hand high into the air, and Burt Jones looked in his direction and smiled. He waved his arms and stepped into the middle of the way, causing the steady stream of people to part around him, as automatically as a school of fish interrupted by a wader.
Now here's a man who knows where his future is!
Burt shouted, as though any of the carnival-goers were paying attention. Here's a man who's going to be in on the start of the first TransGalaxian colony.
No, not me,
Martin called out. Your bot just...
At that moment the bot released its hold on his wrist, deftly grabbed a handful of cotton candy, and stuffed it in Martin's open mouth so the words didn't