New Eden – a Sci-fi disaster novel

Posted on by Opher

The world government is looking for a way to reduce population numbers and remove the unproductive billions who are no longer required. In this futuristic novel they devise a fiendish plan that goes horribly wrong. Follow the intrigue and machinations to a very unexpected conclusion.

New Eden: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798637512867: Books

Excerpt – New Eden

‘Surely we can manipulate that?’ Paul remarked reasonably. ‘It all depends on marketing and propaganda. The scientists can deal with the environment.’

‘Not when it is a battle for such severely depleted resources,’ Virginie Chauvin interjected.

‘Marketing cannot touch the have-nots, don’t-wants or can’t-gets,’ George remarked morosely. ‘I reiterate: there are huge numbers of them out there, billions, who are simply surplus to requirements. They are not consuming and they are not contributing. All they do is generate huge problems and the rest of us suffer because of them. They are responsible for the crisis. That is my point. We are better off without them.’

‘So how are they surviving then?’ Mya Jannot enquired with a petulant tone. She found George’s callous approach hard to take. ‘They must be consuming something.’ Mya knew that in the end it would come down to the economics. That is what upstairs always cared about.

‘They are scavenging,’ George Handley replied with an air of disgust. ‘Living off our detritus. They are not part of any chain of consumption. They serve no useful purpose. They are surplus to requirements.’

George’s phrase echoed round the chamber and set the minds racing. Was it as simple as that? They all knew what George was referring to. He was proposing the extermination of a good percentage of the world’s population. Surely there had to be a reasonable alternative. It was incontrovertible that the population was now raging out of control. The environment was teetering on the brink of catastrophe. They were in the last chance saloon. They had to do something.

‘So what are you suggesting George?’ Mya Jannot asked, looking at ways to address the issue. ‘A huge welfare programme to bring them into the frame so they can be consumers?’ She knew that was not the solution. Indeed it would only make matters worse. If they all started consuming at even a small percentage of the most affluent the resources would be exhausted and the world would be plunged into conflict. ‘A benefits scheme? A massive work programme?’ Even as she voiced it she could see the preposterous nature of the idea. ‘Or are you looking at enforced contraception? Sterilisation? Education for females? Because they all seem to have failed. So what are you actually suggesting?’

The whole room focussed on George Handley. It was quite clear what was on the table but they wanted to hear it from him.

George pouted and tapped his fingers on the table. ‘I am simply pointing out that we have a large rump that is proving a drain on wealth creation,’ George replied, ducking the question. ‘There are billions who are surplus to requirements and of no use to anyone. They are a drain on our resources and serve no purpose. They are having a catastrophic effect that is costing us dearly and will only get a lot worse. We are having to pick up the bill for the mess they are creating. If we do not do something drastic now we will end up paying far more later. I cannot imagine that is what our friends upstairs would want. We have to be decisive.’

They all knew what he was getting at. They had to face it.

‘We could stoke up a few more wars,’ Pascal Bosco proposed. ‘That is always a good way of reducing numbers plus it has the added benefit of stimulating productivity. There’s nothing like a good bit of arms trading to stimulate the economy. There are plenty of fanatics out there in the hinterlands and there’s nothing like religion or survival to focus the mind.’

‘One thing is certain,’ Virginie Chauvin remarked pointedly. ‘Natural processes do not seem to be working as well as they used to.’ She glowered round at them as if it was their fault. ‘Every time we have a natural catastrophe we get the Aid groups wading in. They pull at everyone’s heart-strings and the money pours in. There are too many do-gooders. They rush in and mop up before the natural processes have a chance to work their normal attrition.’

‘Technology has certainly taken the sting out of natural disasters,’ Hans Shultz agreed. ‘There is a rapid deployment of resources and so much more that can be done. Disasters do not reach the same proportions as they used to.’

‘There you are,’ Pascal Bosco remarked triumphantly. ‘That’s where technology comes in. War is more efficient than ever. We can take out millions.’

‘But it’s so indiscriminate,’ Paul Shank argued. ‘It doesn’t just get rid of the ones you’d like to eliminate. It just……’

‘It is too limited in scope,’ George asserted, interrupting Paul in mid-flow. ‘War is too restricted. We need something on a bigger scale and something more general. We have scroungers everywhere now. They’ve become universal. We should cut out the cancer once and for all.’

God’s Bolt – The end of the world

Posted on by Opher

I wrote this novel to create a setting for my lone character. I wove in Sagan, aliens, AI, global politics and interstellar travel into an intriguing tale. It started at the end and worked towards a new beginning.

God’s Bolt: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781092713597: Books

Here’s an extract:

Chapter 2

Carl Sagan – 1934 – 1996

I don’t know why I became a scientist. It could have been down to my parents. Yes, I think I’ll blame them.

I was born in Brooklyn in 1934. We were a poor Jewish family hustling a living like everybody else. My father had come in as an immigrant from what is now Ukraine and he was full of all that immigrant energy. He was a good man who worked hard and had a joy of life. He ran a garment factory. He wasn’t a religious man but he saw the wonder in everything and was bursting with benevolence. He did not know what science was but he encouraged me to be inquisitive and question everything. I think that was his greatest gift to me.

My mother was born in Brooklyn and was religious. Her life seemed to centre on the synagogue. She came from a very poor family and I think she’d seen too much of hard times. Life had dealt her hard blows and she was frustrated by it all. She had a mind on her but never had the chance to make anything of herself. She was held back by poverty, a lack of education, her gender and her faith. Back then Jewish girls were not expected to do anything other than bring up kids and look after the home and husband. But she doted on me. I think she put all her ambitions onto me. She was very analytical and taught me how to investigate and delve into the detail. That was her gift.

I suppose I married those two gifts together. It made me inquisitive and hungry to discover more. It made me look up in wonder and try to work out what it all meant.

From an early age I was always asking questions.

Brooklyn was a great place to grow up. It was a bustling hub of life. It wasn’t ideal for developing a career in science though. I guess I didn’t think about that too much when I was a child.

I’d play out in the streets with my friends but my Mum did rather cosset me. She spent hours encouraging me to think and do my school work. I was an extension of her dreams.

Sam, my Dad, would take me out with him to the garment factory and show me off to his friends. He was proud of me. My inquisitiveness bemused him but he loved it. He’d laugh at me and there was love in his eyes.

The streets back then were bustling with people. There were shops and street stalls selling everything you could think of and I like that bustle, weaving in and out of the crowds gripping on to Dad’s great paw of a hand. I’d look up and there, between the tall buildings, I could see the sky.

I was only five years old when I had my first epiphany. My parents took me to the World’s Fair. It nearly blew my eyes out of my head and sent my mind into overdrive. It was like I had woken up in a different world.

I was never quite the same.

The first thing that sent my mind whirling was an exhibition of the future. It was crazy – all super clean and modern with huge highways and families driving along in futuristic cars towards cities with gleaming skyscrapers. It looked a million miles from the bustling streets of Brooklyn with its dirty bricks, and all those street vendors with their wooden carts and litter. I wanted to see that world of the future. I wanted to be part of it.

I could imagine it. I could look into the future and see that incredible world that science was going to construct.

Then, with my head still reeling I was taken to the science exhibitions. They shone a light on this cell and it made noises. They made a noise with a tuning fork and it became a wavy line on this screen. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to understand how light could become noise and how sound became light. I was thrilling with the excitement of it. My five year old brain was trying to make sense of all these wonders.

The most exciting thing of all was the Time Capsule. We went out to Flushing Meadows to see it being buried. It was a big container and they’d filled it with all these things from our age, everything that told a story about us, and buried it deep in the ground. It was like a snapshot of our world and it would sit there buried in the ground for hundreds of years. In my head I could imagine spacemen from some future world thousands of years in the future digging it up and finding out all about us.