Five: Episode Twenty-Nine is based off the following book excerpt from my science fiction supernatural thriller, The Contingency Generation.
Where is it?” I search through my shirt and pants, the borrowed Abide worker’s jacket with my blood stain, and my shoes, but it’s not there. Without my wrist scanner, I can’t contact Nesbitt, retrace my steps, or pull up the identity of any other person who came within a five yard radius of me while I was unconscious.
“It’s not in here.” I explain to the med tech.
“Everything you wore on admission is in the bag.”
“Well my wrist scanner is not. I’m certain I had it on when I came in. Please check again. See if it’s mentioned in my admit survey.”
The tech looks annoyed with my request, but I don’t care.
When she leaves the room, I pull out the folded cardboard with the message, which reads exactly as I remember. “Choose truth. Book of Wisdom 43.8.44 & 43.14.6”
The truth is I was poisoned, and the progress of the resurrection process has been altered. On top of this, Kate’s body is missing, and this message appeared in her thermo cylinder instead.
I examine the writing closely. The words are hand scrawled, but any hack can simulate real handwriting. I don’t have time to seek an expert analysis. Besides, identifying a group of religious fanatics who reference an archaic book of beliefs is less important to me than locating my missing wrist scanner. But I’m now haunted by the fact that all these seemingly unrelated events may be connected. I just can’t see the pattern yet.
I tuck the message safely away and place the Abide worker’s jacket back in the bag.
The aide returns and confirms there’s no record of my personal wrist screen.
I jut out my arm and thrust the new scanner under her nose. “Explain this then. How did I receive a post admit replacement scanner without simultaneous synch validation? This one shows that security clearance occurred just 3 hours ago, but my hospital records officially started 13 hours ago.”
She ignores my gesture and does not look at the scanner screen. “The hospital provided it as soon as you were bought in, I guess.” She turns away and calmly begins to collect the bed linens.
“And no one spent any time looking for the actual wrist scanner that belonged to me?” I get loud.
She gives me her attention but merely shrugs. “The admit survey didn’t say.”
I continue to fume. “That’s crazy. No one’s ever admitted without a security synch. Unless I find the original, my personal data is unrecoverable.”
“I suppose the hospital was more concerned with your treatment. The admit survey shows that the synch was declined, perhaps because they were able to duplicate your medical data from your Designated Kin’s records.”
Her disclosure rings a familiar tune. Alternate plans are Fol’s specialty. Having him as my Designated Kin, waylaid normal security measures concerning my identity. How many other not-so-useful perks will I encounter because of my relationship to the world’s most highly regarded delivery system tycoon?
“This is a huge inconvenience for me. I need my personal scanner to access my contacts.”
“I’m sorry. You can fill out a missing items form and security will be alerted.”
“I’ll think about it.”
She nods and then places the gathered remains of my room stay, including dishes, linens, and medical paraphernalia into the appropriate chutes.
“Do you need me to issue a transport request?”
“No thanks. Mine is on the way.”
“Alright. Take your time. The room door self locks at 17:00. There’s no rush.”
She leaves, and I fret. There is a rush! Misplaced or stolen, the fact is that somewhere between the Abide and my arrival at Kerioth Medical, my ability to connect with my team has disappeared. Sabotage contingency measures were put in place when the Resurrection Project was first initiated. However, nothing addresses how to proceed when the leader is secretly fortressed in a facility almost 1800 miles away from the team.
I’m responsible for the resurrection trials, and I’ve got to get to my team.
This blog post is an excerpt from my supernatural thriller, Five, presented in rough draft version. The posts will appear weekly as my story development progresses. The story snippets will likely be full of typos, garbage, and confusion. I’m sure to regret allowing readers a sneak peak of the chaos involved in this process of making a finished book.
Someday, if I still have an audience, my book(s) and screenplays will be polished and for sale. Until then, my story snippets are free, but payment by “subscribing” with your email would be a nice gesture. For doing this you might get a discount on my purchasable work should that day ever arrive. All you get now is a notice via email of a new story episode that I have ready to read on my “blog.” I don’t sell my email list or do anything else with it.
Why am I doing this stupid and terrible thing—letting readers see my “off the cuff” story writing?
Book industry experts say that in today’s world of book marketing, an unknown author must build their own sales platform. I’m supposed to advance my platform by collecting readers, and for now, by blogging. Since I can’t imagine blogging about what I had for breakfast or the things my cat does, then instead, I’m blogging fiction excerpts of my work(s) in progress.
Thanks for slogging along. Maybe we’ll meet on a bookshelf someday.