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Science & Tech
iDNA Short Story
Science Fiction Short Story Series
March 16, 2024
NOTE: I delayed the release of this story a day to record the audiobook, however, my voice is not cooperating today. It is probably me re-adjusting to pollen in the air, so I will record the book as soon as I can, so I decided to get the story out for those who want to read it. The audiobook will be posted soon.
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iDNA:

I – The Prosecution

Persons of the Jury, throughout this trial, we will show scientific evidence that places the defendant, Bobby Wilson, at the scene of the murder of one Miss Jessie Vargus, on the night of the night of May 28th. We will show how he sought out her illegal services and killed her in cold blood, fleeing the scene of the crime, having taken without giving her wages upon. We will show that he is a cold and calculated killer who deserves to spend the rest of his life behind bars.

The prosecutor for the state scanned the jury one last time, fixing his eyes on a few of the men, before sitting down in his seat again.

“Please give us your opening statement, counselor,” Judge Todd said, directing his glance at the defense.

“Thank you, your honor.” William Gates stood up, first compassionately glancing toward Mr. Wilson. He looked at the jury.

Ladies and gentlemen, it is quite impossible for Mr. Wilson to have committed the crimes he is being accused of in this courtroom. We have solid evidence from bank statements, witnesses, and toll booth charges that place Bobby in a completely different city while Miss Jessie Vargus was murdered. We will also show that Mr. Wilson is not a person who seeks such illegal services, and thus would not have had the opportunity or the motive to commit the crimes he is being accused of committing. Thank you.

Mr. Gates sat down and looked back up at the judge.

Judge Todd glanced at the jury and back at the prosecutor’s podium. “Mr. Black, are your ready to present your case?”

“I am, your honor.”

“You may begin.”

Today, I want to tell you a sad story about the death of a fellow human being. This event occurred at a house rented as a short-term rental. A man and a woman consented to meet there for purposes that are known to be illegal. But what happened turned from controversial to cold-blooded murder. We believe that once the two people closed the door, a discovery occurred that made the man lose control and murder the woman he brought in there with him. It was not his intent, but it happened.
Sadly, a hammer coincidentally lay on the floor beside a table. Probably forgotten by a repair man fixing a newly replaced window. That hammer became a murder weapon used to brutally assault the woman.
Now, I am about to show you some disturbing photographs. Photographs taken by the crime scene investigators when they first arrived on the scene. Please direct your attention to the screen.

Mr. Black picked up a clicker from his table and pointed it toward the screen hanging on the wall. He showed one picture of a dead body, mangled in the head.

This is the aftermath of the scene. You can see here the poor woman who just wanted to make to money to eat, is now deceased. Her head had been crushed in at several points. She is almost unrecognizable.

Mr. Black pushed the button displaying another picture. A few members of the jury forced themselves to look at the screen. This photo was less brutal and more instructive.

In this photo, you are looking at what is called a' blood splatter' in the crime scene analysis world. You can see three distinct lines. According to our investigator, whom you will hear from directly confirming his expert testimony, this means that Mr. Wilson swung the hammer into a raised position forcefully at least three times. So the victim was hit at least four times in the head.
Here is a report from the autopsy showing five distinct contact points between the hammer and the victim. Certainly within the three splatter patterns.
This is a horrible crime, but how do we know Mr. Wilson did the crime? As you know, we utilize science, and not speculation. We will soon show you evidence demonstrating Mr. Wilson to be the person who was in that room when the brutal murder took place.
Before I show you that evidence, however, I want to provide a motive. To start, you need to know something about Jessie Vargus. She is a transgender female. Now some of you may not agree with such a lifestyle, but is that really a cause to murder someone?
This poor woman was just trying to make enough money to eat. While the profession she chose to engage is illegal, murder is not the solution. We will demonstrate from social media posts here that Mr. Wilson hates transgender people.

“Objection, your honor!” Mr. Gates yelled as soon as the word ‘hate’ exited the mouth of the prosecutor. “It is mischaracterization to describe my client at hateful.

“Sustained,” Judge Todd said. “Do not characterize the defendant.”

Let me rephrase. It is clear from the social media posts that Mr. Wilson is an active member of a church that does not affirm the transgender lifestyle. This radicalization could easily lead him to the motive necessary to commit such a crime. To not embrace this lifestyle is to want to erase the lifestyle, so we have established a motive. It is our belief that he sought out the services of a prostitute, but upon finding she was transgender, he killed her out of disregard for her lifestyle.

Mr. Black stopped to scan the faces of the jury. He subtly nodded toward two people whom he thought looked sympathetic to his argument. He continued on.

The police recovered the hammer, used as the murder weapon, at the scene. The murderer wiped the hammer clean of blood or fingerprints, but the reconstruction of the crime scene with computer models shows that a hammer exactly like this was used in the murder. So we clearly see an attempt to hide aspects of the crime by cleaning the weapon.
Crime scene investigators found a print on the door lock. You can see that print on the screen now. Notice that it is a perfect match of prints we have on file for Mr. Wilson according to his biometric identification card. They also found DNA at the scene, also a perfect match for Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Black stopped again to let the jury take in the photos of the fingerprint and the DNA match.

Finally, we reached out to the property owner and discovered they have a camera in the room. Here is a relevant video.

The prosecutor played a video clip of a man and a woman walking into the room. The woman was clearly the victim, and the man looked perfectly at the camera, revealing a perfect match for Mr. Wilson.

The jury looked at the video clip of the man walking into the crime scene and then they glanced at Mr. Wilson at his table. Many of them nodded their head in confirmation that the video showed them the man who was on trial.

Mr. Wilson looked back, scanning the faces. Nearly each person, having made eye contact, looked away from him. One man snarled at him, holding his eye contact menacingly. His heart dropped as the thought ran through his mind that the jury might declare him guilty. He almost thought himself guilty.

Persons of the jury, I have summarized our evidence. The defendant met Jessie Vargus and then turned to murder because of her lifestyle. We have the defendant at the scene with video evidence. Mr. Wilson’s DNA and fingerprints were found at the scene, and we know he attends a church that does not agree with the lifestyle Jessie Vargus lived. We have location, evidence, and motive. Over the next few days, we will bring in expert witnesses to verify the evidence we have summarized to you today.

“Thank you, Mr. Black,” Judge Todd said. “We will be adjourned for today. I want to remind the jury not to watch any coverage of this trial, and to be back at 8:00 tomorrow morning to hear from the expert witnesses.”

 

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It might just be me, but I've found even on GrayJay I don't get your SwitchedToLinux YouTube streams, or anything YouTube for OurWalkInChrist, instead I only see that you've uploaded or are live from Rumble (and sometimes Twitch), or from going to your channel page. I wonder if YouTube is interfering with being able to see your stuff on third party apps as well.

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No show tonight due to Halloween, but we will do a hangout at 7:00p on the normal link.

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Pollentia
Science Fiction Short Story Series

Audiobook Info at the Bottom

Part I – A World in Harmony

Ellas leaned back on the bench seat, watching the autonomous cars go by. As usual, riders only occupied about half of the cars in movement. The empty cars routed automatically to pick up a rider or being shuffled around by the central scheduling system for strategic deployment. Many vehicles started creating a double file line around the Prod Segment central administration building to prepare for the first shift of employees to leave to fetch a ride back to their unit.

She glanced at her phone, checking on the location of the Tranzport bus. Still a few minutes away, so she turned to the familiar stranger sitting next to her on the bench.

“How’s your son doing in school?”

“Good,” the lady said. “You’re Ellas, right? Council Member Alaric’s wife?”

“That’s right,” Ellas answered.

“That’s great. Is he still at the Crescent Segment?” The lady asked.

She had read about the trade negotiations with the other Segment in the Pollentia Times, as the efforts to keep peace through trade always landed at the top of all the news feeds. Pictures of the Council families often raised them to celebrity status, something that always irked Ellas.

“He is due to arrive back here, then he has to sit in quarantine for a week before he can come home. I hate that part the most.”

A simultaneous notification beeped on both their phones. Ellas glanced at the screen and stood up, awaiting the Tranzport bus. The other parents also stood up and approached the terminal. The bus arrived, ringing the clearance alarm, before opening up the doors to a flood of children pouring out.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said out of politeness to the familiar stranger, then called out, “Nikolas!”

A dark-haired boy ran up, grasping her thigh.

“Hi, Mommy!” he said.

She looked at him with a smile and took his hand to walk down the stairs to the sublevel for the walk home.

“What did you learn in school today?” She asked.

“I learned how our world made peace with each other,” Nikolas said, jumping from square to square on the floor pattern, trying to avoid the cracks.

“Tell me about it,” she encouraged.

“Since people think differently,” he said, making another jump, “And no one could agree, we decided moving apart from each other was the best solution, so everyone here believes the same thing!”

“Very good, Nikolas. And what are the cities called?”

“Um,” he thought, “Segments!”

“Good.” she said. “And you know your daddy works with the Segment Officials to keep peace between the Segments, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking sadly at the ground. “I miss Daddy.”

They reached a raised platform and walked up the steps to their unit. Ellas waved her hand over the security panel and the color switched from red to green with a beep. Nikolas ran inside and threw his bag on the floor without a care. Ellas followed him in and placed the bag up on the stand where it belongs. She grabbed her phone and swiped a notification off the screen, then she opened up the Tranzport app and clicked the button to request a ride for two. The screen confirmed the priority order for families of council officials and reported a five-minute wait for a car to arrive.

“Nikolas,” she called out, “We need to head out again.”

“Why?” He protested.

She placed her hands on her hips and gave him the eye she trained him with to obey without question.

“OK,” he said.

They walked out the door, hearing the lock alarm behind them. The two stood on the Tranzport pickup platform, awaiting the car. The vehicle arrived within a minute and opened the door. Nikolas jumped in first, then Ellas hit the door close button and confirmed the quarantine wing of the hospital was the intended destination.

----

“Daddy!” Nikolas yelled, running toward a glass divider wall.

“My boy!” Alaric declared with open arms. They both touched the glass opposite each other, longing for an embrace.

Ellas took her time walking up while father and son reunited through the miracles of glass containment and a functional sound system.

“Hi Alaric, were the meetings a success?”

“They were, honey,” he said. “We have a potential trade deal in the works, allowing our Segment to provide some raw materials for battery production, and they will provide software technology to streamline Tranzport scheduling, particularly around our Sunday worship schedules.”

“Did you get the feeling peace will remain between the Segments?”

“I learned about world peace in school today, Daddy!” Nikolas proclaimed.

The Global President attained general accord in Pollentia by a tactic of isolation and a strict code of conduct when representatives for two Segments meet together. The prevailing thought kept the peace by isolating people into pockets of deeply held beliefs, allowing each Segment to create their own regulations. Visitors had to remain silent when visiting a different Segment. Thus, peace was only as fragile as the mandatory natural zones between them. Woe to the ones, however, who traveled into those forsaken regions.

Alaric, for his part, worked in the council for his Segment negotiating trade deals between people with different beliefs. The hard work paid well and offered a rare protected means of traveling to see different Segments. Most Pollentian citizens have neither need nor permission to go outside their Segment.

“World peace,” Alaric said, “I wish peace resided in the hearts of men and not in the laws of our nation!”

“When can you come home, Daddy?” Nikolas said, looking up at his father.

“After my one-week quarantine period is over, then I can come home. But I’ll call you tonight and help put you to bed!”

Ellas’s phone beeped a notification that the quarantine visitation drew to an end, and the Tranzport car would be available in five minutes.

“Say goodbye, Nikolas. It’s time to go.”

 

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Chatter
Science Fiction Short Story Series Vol 2

Part I – Ideal Offspring

“I’ll get those, Mikey,” Bobby said with concern in his voice.

“But I wanna get-em,” he countered.

“OK, I’ll just make sure you don’t fall.”

Mikey leaned his knee up on the counter and dodged the cupboard as the door swung inches from his face. He grabbed four cups one at a time, placing them on the counter. He swung the door back closed and slid his foot back onto the chair. Bobby removed his hands from hovering over his little brother’s midsection and grabbed two of the cups, taking them to the table. Mikey slid the chair across the floor before retrieving the other two glasses.

“Both of you go wash your hands,” Mom said.

“Come on, Mikey,” the older brother encouraged.

The two kids emerged from the bathroom and sat down at the table.

“Dad, can we play Trouble after dinner?”

“Sure,” he said. “Is that OK with you, Bobby?”

“Of course. I still need to take revenge for losing last time!” He said, smirking at Mikey, who smiled back up at him.

“Bobby,” Mom said, “Did you get your test back yet?”

“Yep,” he smiled, “I got an ‘A’. I need one of you to sign it for tomorrow.”

“Great job, son,” Dad said. Changing the subject, he reminded the family of his late night planned for the following day.

“I forgot,” Mom said. “I won't be here either. Bobby, will you be here to get Mikey off the bus?”

“Sure, but remember I am going to John’s house for dinner, so will someone be here before I need to leave?”

“Yes,” Mom said, “I will be back at 4:00, and I think you will be leaving at 4:45.”

“Great. I will make sure I finish my homework before you get home.”

The family was silent for the rest of the meal, then Bobby picked up the dishes and Mikey rinsed the table. The family operated as a well oiled machine, readying the kitchen table for evening games in a short period of time. The evening went on as normal without fights or struggles. Bobby finally won, and Mikey jokingly teased him about finally taking the victory.

They relaxed as a family for another hour and then began their nighttime process. Bobby always encouraged Mikey to stay on track, teaching him to brush his teeth and even helping to tuck his little brother in for the night.

His own evening lasted an hour longer.

“Mom, Dad?” He started, “Did you think about getting me a phone for my birthday?”

“We did, Bobby. We are concerned it might get in the way of your responsibilities.”

“I’m turning 13 this weekend, and all my friends have phones of their own,” he said.

“I know, Bobby, and it might seem like we are being tough, but we also know phones can have a negative impact on our lives.” Dad said.

“You are responsible,” Mom said. “We don’t want to let anything break that. If you develop good habits now, they will be with you forever.”

“All that being said,” Dad said. “We think it would be good to test it out how you respond to a phone while you are still young, so we will give you one.”

“Thanks!” He yelled out, then silenced himself to not awaken his brother. “You’re the BEST!”

He kissed both his parents and brought the three of them in for a group hug.



-----



Bobby stood in the driveway kicking around a rock between his feet. He heard the sound of air breaks in the distance and straightened up his posture waiting for the bus to stop in front of his house. He approached the bus to grab Mikey’s hand for the big step off the bus. The two boys ran into the house together.

“I need to do my homework, Mikey, so let’s grab a snack and I want you to get something to do on the table.”

“I want a cookie!” he said, running off to his room.

Bobby heard some shuffling as Mikey opened and closed different drawers in his room. He emerged from the room with a coloring book and some crayons, sitting at a table in front of a big cookie. He slid the plate over and sat at the chair next to his big brother and colored while Bobby struggled through a round of math problems.

The door opened shortly and Mom walked in.

“Hi Mom!” Bobby said.

“Hello boys. How are you doing?”

“Look Mom! I colored this for you,” Mikey said, showing her a cleanly colored page of Thanksgiving turkeys.

“That’s nice, dear,” she said. “I’ll hang it on the refrigerator.”

“My homework is about done, the cat is fed, and Mikey had a snack already. Is there anything else I need to do before getting ready to go to John’s house?”

“No, son. Have a good time.”

 

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The Art of Personhood
Science Fiction Short Story Series Vol 2

Audiobook link below

Part I – A Shortcut to the Long Game

Douglas sat on the mahogany ridge leaning in toward the young lady who just pressed herself across the bar asking for a margarita.

“Come here often?” He asked.

She glanced over at him and let out a quick smile. “Once in a while,” she said, fixing her glance on him.

“Me too,” Douglas replied, “but I received a job offer in Ohio, so I’m savoring my last few days here.”

“So you’re a recent grad?” She asked.

“Comp Sci,” he confirmed.

“Me too, El Ed,” she said, sliding onto the barstool. She smiled at him again, asking after the fact if the stool was free. “I’m off to California.” She said, adding, “It’s the only place I could find a job.”

“Too bad we’re going our separate ways. We could get together for some fun if you were also coming to Columbus,” he nodded his head,

“So much for all this ‘opportunity’ they promised us. It sucks that my debt is five times higher than my gross salary,” she said.

“Me, too,” Douglas said. “That’s as gross as it gets. At least I received an entry level position, but I might make more working as a barista once I factor in tips.”

The bartender arrived with her drink, but Douglas beat her to paying for it. The man smiled at both of them, asking if about anything else the couple needed before returning the credit card.

“Thanks for the drink. I’m Sara, by the way,” she said.

Douglas formally introduced himself and continued his conversation about the debt load. He was a classic geek, complete with spreadsheets about his expected take home pay, expenses, and even how much…or little he could pay off on his debt.

“I would like to see that spreadsheet,” she said, placing her hand on his.

“My apartment is only a few blocks away. We could continue this conversation there…”

-----

“Fifteen years,” he playfully slammed the table with his hand.

“There must be a faster way,” Sara said.

“According to the numbers, not without a pretty quick and dramatic raise. Hopefully, I can stay at the company long enough to collect a higher salary, then I will make more than minimum payments.”

They punched numbers and spent the duration of the evening looking at different scenarios and talking about ways to cut as many costs as possible. Every bit helped to pay down the debt, but still the salary numbers were nothing next to the debt. The evening ended with an email to his new friend and they both slipped into the bed together.

-----

Douglas woke up slightly hungover and looked over to an empty bed. Sara had woken up early in the morning and left, leaving a note on the nightstand thanking him for a wonderful evening and promising to email him soon.

His bones creaked as he stretched his way out of bed and put on his clothes from the previous night. With only a day of packing ahead of himself, hygiene didn’t cross his mind, however, thinking about ways to shortcut his way to prosperity did.

He flipped open his email, sorting through dozens of scam email messages. “If only one person in ten-thousand falls for this, it’s a big payout.” he said to himself.

Douglas opened up a text editor and started scribbling down notes.

NAME

ADDRESS

BANK ACCOUNT

VERIFICATION

PHONE NUMBER

PERSONHOOD CREDENTIALS

He stopped to read the last words. “This is the key,” he said aloud to the empty room. “How can I get personhood credentials for a person who doesn’t exist?”

The recently rolled out blockchain-based cryptographic codes and documentations were making waves for many businesses to use the new system for verification that a person was really a person, and not a computer bot. The credentials can also identify such a person if the system administrator setup the computer for an identity check.

Douglas looked at his wallet and looked at the ID card containing his own credentials. His finger ran over the RFID chip that broadcast his own personhood credentials. He remembered the times he needed to use his card for online transactions to prove he was a real person. The Internet said this was a foolproof way to get around ubiquitous artificial intelligence that took over the Internet a few years ago.

“I need an identity for someone who has been in the system,” he said. “But I don’t want to steal one.”

He turned on his Tor browser and started a hidden onion service search for clean, valid identities. He clicked through several sites selling stolen identification, but ultimately found one site showing promise.

“Our IDs are grown, not stolen. Each identification comes with a birth certificate, social security number, and an Internet profile. They are real–yet fake–people you can acquire for a small sum.”

Douglas saved the URL in his text file. He wrote under that a name, ‘Steve Rand’.

 

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