The Lurching Lamebrains
by Charles Jacob Long (1) Online Now', '', 'November 26, 2015', '', '', '10', 'Registered Author');" onmouseout="hide_uport ();"
Rated: E · Sample · Fanfiction · #2080048
It's a brave stupid world.
Intro Rated: E
Size: 3.51 KB · 5 views
Created: April 1st, 2016 at 7:52pm
Modified: April 4th, 2016 at 3:51am
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Location: My Portfolio
Genres: Fanfiction, Satire, Sci-fi
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Data was an android with a mission. He had built his replicator shop near Crater Lake, which allowed him to activate three bottle-nosed replicators so that fifteen billion flesh and blood lamebrains could have the technological power to dematerialize quantities of matter and then rematerialize that matter in another form.
"No," said Data. "All I know is what was on the plate, and how to revive you. The dentist accidentally gave you a dose of what we call Kornbluth shock anesthesia. We haven't used it for thousands of years I'm afraid; it was powerful, but too dangerous."
Data answered. "We call it B7-24-D37. That's no help to you. It takes a long time for these artificial materials to oxidize."
The city loomed ahead, and it was just what it ought to be: towering futuristic skyscrapers, overhead walk-ramps, aircars flying above the city, landing platforms for helicopters.
Screamingly sweet blasts of sound surrounded them as they stopped for a blue light. "What the hell is going on here?" said Kenneth Falconer in a shrill, frightened voice, because the braking time was just about zero, and he wasn't hurled against the dashboard. "Who's kidding who?"
The light changed to violet and he started the pickup. Kenneth Falconer stiffened as he realized that the rush of air past his ears began just a brief, unreal split second before the aircar was actually moving. He grabbed for the door handle on his side.
A feminine hand tumbled from a beautiful face thrust close to his: "Wassamatta bumpinninna people likeya owna sidewalk gotta miner slamya inna mushya bassar. Mya chil'dren coul'd wot wurt bya youa bassar."
"Oha, ye'ah?" yelled the mother dangerously, and waited for an answer.
"The aircars are in fact aircars. They're good aircars, all of them can take flight at much higher altitudes. The aircars also have a top speed of several miles per hour — if I recall my paleolinguistics. The cities are ridiculous, expensive, sanitary, conglomerations of people. The elevators aren't elevators. They are in fact teleportation devices that dematerialize and rematerialize things and people alike with both ease and success. The theaters and strip joints are quipped with the fineries of holodecks and holosuites."
"The attrition of accidents, illness, wars and such took care of that. Your intelligence I'm afraid was bred out. It is gone. Children that should have been born never were. The just-average, they'll-get-along majority took over the population. The average intelligence quotient now is 55."
"Just androids — real androids. Multiple generations ago, our ancient creators realized at last that nobody was going to pay any attention to what they said, so they abandoned words for deeds. Specifically, they formed and recruited for a closed corporation to produce a race of Soong-type androids intended to maintain and protect the lamebrains at all cost, and to produce and improve the products for the lamebrains to use. We are the descendants of the first generations of androids that our ancient creators built, about nine million of us so far. There are fifteen billion of the flesh and blood lamebrains, so we are their slaves.
© Copyright 2016 Charles Jacob Long (longcharles93 at ). All rights reserved.
Charles Jacob Long has granted , its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Genres: Fanfiction, Satire, Sci-fi
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