Hey Everyone -
I wanted to apologize really fast for my lack of posts the last few days. I've run into a bit of an issue with regards to my personal and work life and, in trying to get everything back in order, have not been quite available. I'm hoping that I will be able to post a proper update within the next coming day or so. Until than, please accept my apology, and don't forget to vote! See you soon.
- Rob
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Memories - Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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The
darkness didn't last. Dark red lights snapped on around him. They highlighting
the interior of the sub enough that he could barely see while an alarm started
to echo from the console. His hands flew across the controls, adjusting and
readjusting, trying to right the sub after whatever had slammed into it. The
problem arose when he focused on what
his hands were doing. He wasn't completely sure why he was hitting or flicking
or spinning the switches that he was, and focusing made him doubt why he was
doing it. Within seconds, he was frozen staring at the console again, trying to
logic out which controls did what.
BANG!
His
world was topsy-turvey again. He spun through a black abyss with only the red
lights to separate him from the endless darkness. Something hit him. It had tried to hit him, nailing him again like that on the same side.
Whatever it was had to be large, as well. He knew his sub wasn't that big, but
he also knew that it probably wasn't feather-light either. Whatever it was, it
had some force behind it.
CLA-BANG!
The spinning ceased some but
the sub now felt like it had been hit from below, pasting him to his seat as he
shot upwards. What was attacking him? He had to get away, but how could he out maneuver
something he couldn't see? He searched over the controls for something. Some
way to see. See without eyes. See with ... Sonar.
YES!
His
attention was drawn to a large grid-based screen to the side of the console. He
had been ignoring it since it was turned off and didn't seem important for
controlling the ship, but now he remembered what it was. It was his eyes. He
knew it would see FOR him, even if he couldn't remember how it actually worked.
That didn't matter at the moment, though. So long as he could see. He reached
over to the dark screen and flipped it on along with several others that
followed naturally.
A new
sound filled the cockpit: a soft pinging that radiated from the screen itself.
The screen displayed a scattering of random green blurs across the grid, but he
had little interest in those. Instead, the gargantuan mass of green off his
left side held his attention. A lump formed in his throat. He had no idea what
it was still, but he knew that it was big enough that he didn't want to be
anywhere near it. I need to get out of
here.
He was
again unconsciously pounding away on the controls and tugging on the joystick.
The sub wasn't responding this time. The buttons felt purposeless, the joystick
as if he were playing with a toy. He kept looking around for something,
anything that stood out that could help him. Maybe a nice big arrow sign that
pointed at a button and read "Push to get out of here". The only
thing that stood out in the confusion were the sonar and the lights. Those damn
red lights. Why did they turn on? He wanted the nice bright ones. Lights that
would pierce the void and show what was going on. Red was so dreary. So weak. Because I'm running on emergency power.
Another
moment of clarity and another spasm of energy that had his fingers flying over
the keyboard again. His attention kept ripping back and forth, from his hands which
seemed to have a mind of their own, repeating actions he had done dozens of
times, to the sonar, which continued to reveal a massive green blob. This green
blob was behaving oddly though. It would drift here and dart there. Sometimes
it seemed to be one solid shape, other times tendrils would appear to halo
around it. It looked to be circling the sub, but never attacked. At worst,
every time the sonar pinged, the blog seemed to shudder slightly.
Time
slowed down. His attention was fixated on the sonar's screen, waiting for the
attack to come. It had already hit him three times, why had it stopped now? He
wasn't putting a fight. Heck, he knew he couldn't
if he wanted to. Even if this sub somehow had weapons capabilities, he doubted
that he'd have the soundness of mind to defend himself. Everything he managed up
till now felt natural, like he had trained so long and hard that he could literally
do them in his sleep. Thinking about TRYING
to do something was more of a hindrance than feeling his way through it, and he
doubted you could win a fight in a sub based on muscle memory.
Lights
snapped on through the cabin all at once; he wasn't ready for it. He buried his
face in his hands in surprise and felt the sub hum to life beneath him.
Whatever he had been trying to do, he
had accomplished at the very least. This
is your chance! Cowering from the sudden light, but gripped by fear and
determined, he grabbed the joystick and jammed the throttle.
The power
of the sub sank him back into the pilot's chair. The force was reassuring. It
was motion. It was escape. He was going to get away. But what if it pursued? Would
he be fast enough? Maybe it was waiting for him to move. Maybe that's why it
hadn't attacked again as his sub floated dark and lifeless through the ocean's
depths. Maybe it was just biding its time. Panic started to return as he
considered this. The sonar revealed that the blob was further away, though. It
wasn't retreating. Nor was it moving towards him. It simply remained still,
with the exception of a wiggle or two. Why
aren't you moving? His panic was already dissipating in favor of confusion.
Curiosity got the better of him. He
pulled on the throttle and the joystick until he was lined up on the sonar with
the blob in front of him. It seemed to shake about again before moving towards
him; slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed. In the distance, a ghostly shape
appeared in the darkness. It resembled a square missile rocketing towards him
at tremendous speed.
Back up,
back up, back up! The throttle was gunned as far back as he could get it,
but the sub couldn't move nearly as fast backwards as it could forwards. The
looming white shape grew in size as it shot forward. Only a second before the
water current hit him, as he got a full view of its features in the sub's lights,
did he realize what it was. Sperm Whale.
The
wake of the massive beast sent him rolling through darkness once again. A single,
severed tentacle from the creature's unfortunate lunch slapped heavily against
the cockpit bubble and stayed there until he had regained control of the roll.
As he righted the sub, the tentacle drifted off into the darkness.
He
could still see the whale on his sonar, and it was moving fast. It would be
heading to the surface to breathe, if not now, soon enough. This is your chance to get out of here.
Gunning the throttle, the sub took off through the black abyss, following after
the massive sea creature. With any luck, it would be lead him straight to the
surface. Deep black turned to dark blue, from cobalt to azure. All the while, a
small counter on the console ticked down towards zero.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Memories - Chapter 3
Chapter 3
---
Despite
his efforts, he simply couldn't remember what had happened. He found himself staring
blankly at the blood splattered across the control console. Every time he
attempted to focus, to remember, it was just a blur. It was like everything had
been hidden in a deep fog that he couldn't see through. The answers were there
yet he couldn't access them.
"Ok,
there's something that has to be missing. Think, damnit." He said to
himself and shut his eyes tighter.
He
seemed to know some things intrinsically. Male. He was male. Logical. He was
human. This also made total sense. He knew he was in a submarine, even if that
had taken him a couple seconds of trying. He knew that submarines went into the
ocean. What kind of submarine? It seemed very small, maybe only one or two
people could fit in it comfortably. So for science? A science submarine is
small. Yes, that made sense, but when he thought about the word, rolled it over
in his mind, it didn't seem to click right. Science.
He knew what science was. It helped you learn and understand things about your
world. Something felt wrong though. It didn't fit.
He
yanked his hands back, snapping back to reality. They had drifted to the
controls of the in front of him without a second thought. It was the stark cold
of the metal that had surprised him. He again brought his hands to the console,
more focused on it this time. It felt natural. Pulling gently on the joystick,
he felt the sub shudder softly around him. The sub wasn't stuck in the wall of
dirt before him, he just knew based on how the stick and the sub shuddered. It
let out a metallic groan as he released the stick again.
"No,
not science...scientist? No." He looked over the controls one more time
before moving back into the rear of the sub.
Nothing
looked different, but new things started to catch his eye. Blood wasn't only on
the floor and console, but small splatters ran here and there along the
ceiling. There were cabinets on the far end that housed a number of things that
seemed familiar but he couldn't remember them. The only word that came to mind
to any of the articles was "Science". These didn't interest him.
They, like the word, felt wrong: like they didn't belong to him and he had no
right to touch them. A bulkhead above him was covered in warnings in multiple
languages about pressure and not to open while submerged.
The
monitors he had seen before were turned off, as were the computers attached to
them. He reached down and turned them on without needing to consider this. Ok, that felt normal. The screen
flickered on after a moment to reveal a name and password prompt. His fingers
fell onto the keyboard, but nothing came. Name?
What's my name? He knew he should have a
name. Everyone had a name. Names came in pairs. A first part and a last part.
His eyes wandered the sub again, looking for some kind of an answer to the
question. There was nothing to lead him. Looking down at himself didn't prove
helpful either. He was wearing a navy blue jumpsuit labeled "Pilot".
Pilot. That felt right. He typed this
into the "Name" field, but didn't proceed. He knew "Pilot"
didn't belong there, it seemed silly. For that matter, he couldn't even begin
to imagine what belonged in the "Password" field. Pilot meant
something else. Pilot belonged here. It belonged on a sub. Just as much as a
Scientist did, but they didn't do Science, not like a Scientist did. They drove.
They knew how to move the sub and how to help Science happen, but they didn't
do Science.
It
clicked at once. Besides his memory, something else was missing. The Scientist.
He's shouldn't be this deep without his Scientist. His partner. A brief memory of bright red hair flashed in his mind. He
shouldn't be down here without them. No
dives without your partner, period. A panic welled up in him and he
scampered back to the rear cupboards. Something else was missing. Papers. Clipboards.
Why was he underwater? The papers would tell him why he was down here. He
wasn't supposed to dive without a reason, or without his partner.
He
slammed the cupboards shut again and rushed back to the cockpit, strapping in.
Every belt and latch clicked perfectly without thought. It felt right. The same
with the controls under his fingertips. Natural. He had to get out of here. Had
to find out why he had dove without his partner. All at once, a deafening bang
echoed through the sub as his world turned upside down and the lights went
black around him.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Memories - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
---
His head hurt. It felt as if his skull was being split open.
Stirring where he lay, he reached up to touch the top of his forehead, where
the pain was the worst. It felt warm. Wet. Sticky. He tried to open his eyes,
but as he did a wave of nausea washed over him. He clamped them back shut and
gritted his teeth against the pain and sickness.
For a
time he laid there, trying to will the pain away. As he did, he listened, but
he didn't really hear anything. What little sound he heard made no sense. He
couldn't place what it was. Where was he? What happened? He tried to focus his thoughts on these simple
questions, but each time he did a fresh stab of pain split through his head. He
couldn't seem to recall.
It felt
like he was laying on his back. There was something cold and solid against his
back, so that seemed to make sense. He lifted his hand again, this time more
focused on the sensation. Gravity was definitely under him. He was on his back.
Why was he on his back?
Again
he tried to open his eyes, more carefully this time. Another wave of nausea
gripped him, but he was ready for it. He stomach turned and rolled, but he kept
his focus on the light in front of him. Light?
His vision cleared slightly and he realized there was not one light, but two.
They seemed to be cords of luminescence that ran along a metal ceiling on
either side. The ceiling couldn't have been more than a few feet high at the
most.
He
thought about sitting up, but figured that if he did he'd probably vomit. Let's start small. He looked at his
hand. It didn't seem the right color. Red? Hands aren't red. Not bright red
like that. He rubbed his fingers together and they again felt wet and sticky.
Red. Sticky. Blood? Touching his head
again, he came back with a fresh sample. Definitely blood.
His
vision drifted slowly up and down, trying to get a feel for his environment
without sitting up quite yet. The quarters were quite cramped. It looked like
he had been stuffed in some kind of a metal tube, and not a big one at that.
There were monitors on either side of him, however the screens were dark. On
one end, near his feet, he saw the tube empty out into darkness. This caught
his attention the most.
Moments
drifted by as he simply stared in to the inky blackness. Where was he? He
couldn't see anything down there. Trying to steel himself against his gut's ongoing
threat of throwing up, he tried to sit up. His hair stuck to the floor, but
came from with a soft tug. A large computer console beneath the darkness came
into view. Then, just like that, it snapped into his mind. Submarine. I'm looking out the cockpit of a submarine.
He
crawled forward to inspect the control console. The console was still
functional and nothing looked damaged, although one section seemed to be
smeared with blood. Did he hit his head on the computer terminal? Why couldn't
he remember? A switch label "Exterior Lights" caught his attention
and without even thinking about it, he reached down and flipped it on.
Through
the glass bubble of the cockpit, the deep black outside was drowned out by
massive flood-lights snapping on. Brown. No...there's something else. He gently
shook his head, trying to clear his vision. What was he looking at? There was
nothing but brown outside. It looked like ...dirt.
That was it! He was staring at a wall of dirt. He could see some of the
sediment floating amidst the water around him. Did he crash?
With
that mystery solved, his attention was drawn back to the rest of the submersible.
A small puddle of blood, congealed now, had collected where his head had been.
There was no one else in the sub with him. Aside from the cockpit's console,
none of the other computer systems in the sub seemed to be functioning. Nothing
looked damaged, so what had happened? Sitting down into the pilot's chair at
the cockpit, he took a minute to try and gather his thoughts.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Memories - Chapter 1
Chapter 1
---
Memories.
Memories are truly one of the fascinating tricks of the mind. They help us to
learn, to remember mistakes or successes from our past. They help us to build
relationships, to identify those around us as both friend and foe. They even
help to shape the realm of our subconscious. After all, the human brain cannot
"dream" of a face it has never seen before. Memories are what help to
make us who we are. To create and differentiate "me" versus
"you".
Memories
can also be a tricky thing. Unlike what many believe, the brain is not a
database like you might find in a computer, or a filing cabinet filled with
documents. Memories are not simply stored and retrieved, but created and
recreated through neurological triggers influenced by senses and emotions. For
this reason, memories can be forgotten for years and recalled by a single scent
on the wind. Some memories may seem trivial, never to be retained past a day or
two, no matter how hard the individual tries to remember. Some memories can
even be altered to seem as though a falsehood were as real as the world around
them.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Contact Us
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