Artificial Salvation

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"A research lab, in every house, will be the marking of a new philosophical age!" Sir Kevin II exclaimed, standing on a small podium, in front of a large audience. The crowd applauded, rising to give standing ovations.

"Over the top," Jessica commented, as they headed backstage to rest.

"Not at all," Kevin responded, wiping his face with a towel. "This isn't just about making toys and utensils anymore, Jessica. We can make a difference, with our organisation," he emphasised.

"We already are," Jessica sat down for her mug of hot coffee and smiled to herself. Kevin was not always so ambitious. They had both seen hard years of little funds and no support from others, before they finally made it big. Well, as big as any small successful group. Not rich, anyhow.

In the meanwhile, another organisation was forming its first branch. A group of young and learned activists, with their hands on the beating pulse of society.

"In hell," James began, sitting down, holding a bottle of unlabeled homemade beer, "nothing has a price tag."

"In hell, nothing has a price tag?" The second James, James Mallorie, wondered aloud. "How did you reach that conclusion?" He asked, and turned to look at the first James.

"Entire industries are shutting down. The markets are becoming desperate. People are losing jobs," James finished, and examined each face in the circle of chairs about him. They all seemed... Interested... But maybe not in the same topic, that was all.

"But new jobs are being made. People are becoming more free, to do what they wish with their lives," Mallorie played the devil's advocate, smiling as he spoke.

"I wasn't saying it's evil," James responded reasonably. "Only that we should tread more carefully with this new technology. Ask more question, and make sure we don't go around hurting people, right?"

The circle nodded in consensus.

Atlas from the game Portal, made with a 3D Printer, by Psychobob.

Personal Creator Lab, commonly referred to as PCL, had become a household brand. In modern society, at the edge of technology, there was hardly a house or apartment without such a device. Simply speaking, it was a small automated factory; suitable for the needs and resources of an individual.

With a minimal investment, any random Joe could now purchase the machine, buy the necessary materials, buy or find the plans for whatever it is they wanted to make, and in the push of a button, it was made. Modern age magic!

Kevin and Jessica, departing from their plane and on route to their hotel, inhaled the fresh moist air of the Mexican jungles.

"Printing Malaria medicine and all sorts of drugs," Jessica began saying, ducked a low branch and continued, "those drugs will make the third world seem like paradise."

"Paradise," Kevin echoed. "Enter paradise, by pressing a button," he grinned, his eyes reflecting dreams and ambitions.

Jessica looked at her mobile, and heard the news in one ear: "Political activist groups calling for regulation of PCLs," and, "Congress discussing a new law that would require printing permits and licensing, that may limit what and how much each person can print."

She moaned silently. She should not bother Kevin with such nonsense. Politics is not what they do, anyway.

The Business of Death

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"Satisfaction guaranteed, or your life back," said the technician, a slight young man with disinterest in his eyes.

"Can it, somehow, go wrong?" Lemrick asked worriedly.

Since the discovery of the after-life, and the device that can restore people from the cold grip of death, there had been a boom in people asking to entertain the experience. Lemrick, being a cautious latecomer, decided that he wanted a glimpse of it, as well.

"You mean, could you die?" The technician verified.

"I mean, do I come back... all right?" Lemrick explained.

This story would do well,
with a second part full of Futurama references.

"Yes, you do. Although," the technician gossiped intimately, "some people come back different. But, that is the whole purpose of the thing, eh?" He laughed, and passed over the bun to Lemrick.

The 'Bun of Death', or 'Bun of Doom', and even 'Roll of Call', was how previous customers had amiably chosen to refer to the edible gizmo that would remove them from the world of the living.

Lemrick sat down on a comfortable gel cushion, folded his legs, and took a bite. Then ensued the dream that is not a dream...

The Solar Web

The Dzed nest in forests, but they hunt wherever there is prey. Their gigantic arachnoid form, while intimidating, is also very adaptable. Reports of adult Dzed swimming the oceans, started early on, after the invasion of the alien race to Earth.

A Dzed invasion?! Nah...
Just weather-changing balloons.

A recent record tells of a long-time hobby fisherman that fell into the water, while fishing in the ocean. "It was an accident," the man says, "but nothing that would scare a sealover, like me." It was, however, quite a surprise, when he realized that underneath the water, and attached to the bottom of his yacht, there lurked a giant Dzed.

The man was afraid that it might attack him, now that he fell into the water. When the Dzed moved to attack, he was certain that this was the end. When he felt nothing, but the movement of water around him, he opened his eyes again. To his astonishment, the Dzed had caught a shark. The shark, apparently, had been drawn to the swimming man, and thought it got lucky. "You can imagine its' surprise," the record goes on to say in the voice of the fisherman, "when it was snatched up by the spider!"

MikeAp shuts the record viewer off, and restores his normal vision. Tomorrow, he will be doing what had not been done before. He will be boarding a Dzedship. The irony was not lost on him. Hey, maybe he will get lucky, and the Dzed will just hunt-away any space monsters that came at him. Although, in all likelihood, the researchers insist, the Dzed will not be joining the trip.

They have reached the Dzed's nest, and are finally preparing to board. Well, board might be the wrong word. It feels like they are infiltrating the Dzed's privacy, really. Like some sort of insidious larvae, using its' host to find shelter, against the harsh environment. Two assistants start running the checks on MikeAp.

"Can you hear me?" One of the women asks.

"Yes," MikeAp answers.

"Can you feel this?" The other woman asks, as she jabs something against his suit.

"No," MikeAp answers, and both women nod approvingly.

MikeAp starts his approach, walking under the watchful eye of all space lovers. This first attempt at utilizing the remarkable balloon-shaped vessel of the Dzed is broadcast to the public. MikeAp doubts that more than a handful of hobbyists are actually watching the live feed.

Confronted by the giant woven ball, MikeAp shoves himself, slowly, into the sphere. The material is sticky, but it is not able to resist his invasion. He can already feel that sort of lightness that comes from being inside a magnetic field.

"I am alright," he reports over the voice.

"Roger that," he hears a barely audible response, through the loud static noise. The speaker is his counterpart and trusted engineer, KaliKi.

MikeAp bends down, spreads his arms wide, and jumps as hard as he can. The giant sphere responds, by increasing the tension of its' fabric, and thus begins a levitating motion upwards. MikeAp sits down, takes his helmet off, even though it is not advised to do so, and draws a salty snack from his side-pocket. As he slowly nibbles through the snack, MikeAp imagines the others looking at him. An unremarkable white ball, floating through the air.

"Biological space engineering, at its' best," he says aloud, after about half an hour. He lies back to enjoy the view, through the now transparent fibers of the vessel.

MikeAp is the first man to ever successfully reach space, using Dzed technology.