Saturday, September 12, 2020

Riot Wall

Riot WallShe could still remember the look on his face when they closed the Riot Wall for the final time.

She could barely find him at first beyond the chain-link fence a few hundred yards away. If not for that red-plaid shirt he always wore when he visited her. Standing in the closed “visitor” queue on his side of that wall.

After this day, there would be no more visits. Because this wall was the long-overdue solution to the long-running riots.

Riots meant businesses closed, meant tax payments dropped, meant fewer jobs – even if you worked for the government. And the government jobs were the safest, as they only really depended on sucking up to whoever was in charge at the time.

It was a coward’s way of surviving. But at least you survived.

Beyond the walls were more jobs, but lower wages for them. Still, those people seemed to like it out there. They liked working for themselves.

Rob had promised he was going to take her there. And one thing after another kept making him break his promise.

When the Riot Walls shut for good – that was the final straw.

It didn’t mean her heart wasn’t breaking. And she knew his was, too.

But she had to turn away. Because everyone had to turn away. Someone in power was addressing their “citizens” over the city’s PA system. And they had to listen “attentively” –

If they wanted to keep their jobs, their housing, and what they considered a life here inside these walls…

Excerpt:

He told me I should shut my eyes. But when I opened them at last, it was still worse than I expected.

Of course, his warning was about the effects of time-space transmogrification, not what we would find when we arrived at wherever “there” was.

“They call this ‘Cagga.” Joe was concerned about the way my face looked back at him. He’d let go of my hand, but I missed its reassurance. “You’d know it as Chicago in your own time-space.”

“Wow. What a wreck.”

Joe nodded. “Yes, Carol, but people still live here.”

“You can’t be serious?”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t probably call this a life.”

“And yet you say I’m here to avert a tragedy? It looks like that already happened.”

Joe stayed silent, letting the city speak to that question.

The noises of a quiet city loomed in my ears. Sounds of some traffic, but distant. The elevated train rolled through overhead, on a clattering track, echoing off the high rises to its sides, but loudly.

Some pneumatic piston machines were running in the background, distant. Out of sync, one faster than the other, and only occasionally striking near the other’s beat.

What I didn’t hear was the people. These streets were empty.

A quick look around showed no reason for people to be here. The storefronts at street level were either boarded up or burnt-out shells. No sidewalk diners, no newspaper kiosks, not even street vendors.

In this “Windy City”, there was no one here to complain about papers being blown about, or the grit arriving unwanted in your eye.

A post-apocalyptic mess. Only without the gunshots and sirens.

I had to ask, “Where are…”

“Everyone?”

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Riot Wall Anthology

Riot Wall AnthologySome satire is timeless. Others predict the near future with uncanny accuracy.

When you’re faced with a violent, dangerous present – perhaps it’s some relief to blow it all up into an exaggerated future history. Then you can tell yourself that it’s all just entertainment.

…And hope it doesn’t really turn out that way.

Excerpt:

She could still remember the look on his face when they closed the Riot Wall for the final time.

She could barely find him at first beyond the chain-link fence a few hundred yards away. If not for that red-plaid shirt he always wore when he visited her. Standing in the closed “visitor” queue on his side of that wall.

After this day, there would be no more visits. Because this wall was the long-overdue solution to the long-running riots.

Riots meant businesses closed, meant tax payments dropped, meant fewer jobs – even if you worked for the government. And the government jobs were the safest, as they only really depended on sucking up to whoever was in charge at the time.

It was a coward’s way of surviving. But at least you survived.

Beyond the walls were more jobs, but lower wages for them. Still, those people seemed to like it out there. They liked working for themselves.

Rob had promised he was going to take her there. And one thing after another kept making him break his promise.

When the Riot Walls shut for good – that was the final straw.

It didn’t mean her heart wasn’t breaking. And she knew his was, too.

But she had to turn away. Because everyone had to turn away. Someone in power was addressing their “citizens” over the city’s PA system. And they had to listen “attentively” –

If they wanted to keep their jobs, their housing, and what they considered a life here inside these walls…

Anthology containing:

Riot Wall by S. H. Marpel, R. L. Saunders
The Panic of 2020 by S. H. Marpel, R. L. Saunders
Our Second Civil War by R. L. Saunders, C. C. Brower
Becoming Michelle by R. L. Saunders, C. C. Brower
A Sweet Fortune by R. L. Saunders
The Projector by S. H. Marpel, R. L. Saunders

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Wilbur S. Peacock: Golden Age Space Opera Tales

Wilbur S. Peacock: Golden Age Space Opera TalesWilbur S. Peacock is sufficiently unknown that there is no Wikipedia page for him. An SF writer, he was an associate editor for Planet Stories from Fall 1942 to Fall 1945 – and also was a screenwriter for several TV series from 1953-1957. He also wrote short-story detective mysteries and westerns.

Space Opera is a subgenre of science fiction that emphasizes space warfare, melodramatic adventure, interplanetary battles, chivalric romance, and risk-taking. Set mainly or entirely in outer space, it usually involves conflict between opponents possessing advanced abilities, futuristic weapons, and other sophisticated technology.

The term has no relation to music, as in a traditional opera, but is instead a play on the terms “soap opera”, a melodramatic television series, and “horse opera”, which was coined during the 1930s to indicate a formulaic Western movie. Space operas emerged in the 1930s and continue to be produced in literature, film, comics, television, and video games.

The Golden Age of Pulp Magazine Fiction derives from pulp magazines (often referred to as “the pulps”) as they were inexpensive fiction magazines that were published from 1896 to the late 1950s. The term pulp derives from the cheap wood pulp paper on which the magazines were printed. In contrast, magazines printed on higher-quality paper were called “glossies” or “slicks”. (Wikipedia)

The pulps gave rise to the term pulp fiction. Pulps were the successors to the penny dreadfuls, dime novels, and short-fiction magazines of the 19th century. Although many writers wrote for pulps, the magazines were proving grounds for those authors like Robert Heinlein, Louis LaMour, “Max Brand”, Ray Bradbury, Philip K. Dick, and many others. The best writers moved onto longer fiction required by paperback publishers. Many of these authors have never been out of print, even long after their passing.

Anthology containing:

The Victory of Klon
Destination—Death
Planet of No-Return
The Thing of Venus
Prey of the Space Falcon

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