Conexion – Sci-fi -Paperback/Kindle – Conexion is a drug!

Posted on by Opher

Conexion is a drug that takes you back through DNA to the memories of your ancestors.

The world is run by a shady group of trillionaires.

Then there are the aliens. Who are they?

Excerpt – Conexion 

Down below, in what used to be the city of New York, before Terra became one complete urban conurbation, there is a meeting room that is simply called the Hub. It is like no other. The room is technically and physically secure. It has advanced hardware that would make it impossible for any form of bugging or recording device to operate – neither could anybody gain access to that room without being fully processed, nor bring any explosive, chemical or biological device into the place.

The Hub was the most secure place on the planet. It was the centre from which the Consortium coordinated its business interests.

It was said that if anyone in the Consortium sneezed the whole system’s economy took a dive.

The site for the Hub was carefully chosen. It was close to the United Nations Government building. That was no coincidence. The Consortium, who regularly met in the Hub, had direct contact with the government and needed to exert influence.

The Consortium was made up of twenty selected members. It was the most select group anywhere in the whole system. To be considered for inclusion one had to firstly be one of the wealthiest individuals in the whole system and secondly to have been vetted to the nth degree. The Consortium did not officially exist and that was the way they intended to keep it.

In line with this policy there were clandestine entry points. Jump tubes, that were completely unregistered, took people in to the secure vestibule. The members of the Consortium were always incognito. They were addressed as numbers and wore costumes with electronic facial masks that maintained their anonymity. Even the meeting room was arranged to maintain this secrecy. Each place around the table was an isolated cubicle so that members could see one another but there was no personal contact.

The inner core were simply called Numbers 1,2 and 3. They set the agendas and ran the meetings.

Everyone was seated when Number 1 entered, flanked on both sides by Numbers 2 and 3. Numbers 2 and 3 seated themselves leaving Number 1 standing. He looked around at the gathered individuals. In their Consortium costume it was impossible to tell if they were male, female, old or young or any other details. Only the inner core knew exactly who constituted the Consortium, though there was much speculation in the minds of the other members that was unlikely to have been too wide of the mark.

‘Right,’ the tall slender figure of Number 1 announced in the stentorious tones of a real aristocrat from long ago, which indeed he was. Number 1, whose real name was Darius, could trace his family right back to beyond the crusades. ‘I call this meeting to order.’ After a suitable pause he sat himself down.

‘This particular meeting is more of a briefing update,’ Number 1 informed them. That was no surprise, most of them were. The inner core of Numbers 1, 2 and 3 tended to meet separately and develop most of the important policy decisions. ‘I wish to keep you informed and receive preliminary feedback. We have three items on the agenda. Item one, as you can see is this fellow Jesus De Monde.’ Number 1 looked around at them. ‘He started out as a minor sideshow on Titan but we have noted that he has attracted quite a following and is beginning to become more universal.’

‘What does he stand for?’ One of the members asked in a bemused manner. All faces turned to stare. If one was in the Consortium one was expected to be au fait with all developments. Everyone should be up on Jesus De Monde.

Number 1 did not seem too unfazed by the interruption. ‘This Jesus character is seeking rapprochement between the various political and religious groups that are presently at odds with the federation. He is seeking a unified front and a non-violent stance to achieve equal rights for the extra-planetary citizens,’ Number 1 summarised. ‘He believes that everyone should be treated equally,’ he added with a twinkle in his eye and raise of eyebrows that indicated how absurd that was.

‘That could impact on a number of our operations,’ someone observed. ‘We are making a lot of money out of supplying those groups with arms.’

‘And supplying the security forces too,’ someone else observed.

‘Precisely,’ Number 1 agreed. ‘Which is why I have asked the government to closely monitor the situation. I have instructed them to get the BIA on the case.’

‘Why don’t we just take him out?’ someone else asked. ‘Surely that can’t be too hard?’

Number 1 fixed him with a frozen look. ‘Because there may be opportunities for us to profit here,’ he explained with a pained expression on his mask of a face. ‘He has a lot of followers. We have opportunities for merchandising. Indeed, I have allotted Number 17 with the franchise for exploiting that market.’

‘I will supply everyone with detailed profit sheets in due course,’ Number 17 reported.

‘For now,’ Number 1 resumed, ‘we do not regard Jesus as a major threat to our other operations. Our investigations indicate that he is unlikely to gain any close unification of those groups. They hate each other as much as they do the federation,’ he remarked with a whimsical smile. ‘We cannot see them ever working together. Neither can we see them adopting a non-violent stance any time soon. That means that the government will not be addressing the disparity between pay and condition between the extra-planetaries and planetaries any time soon. For now it appears that our interests are secure. Number 20 will shortly supply you with details of the profits from our various enterprises and I think you will find everything is very satisfactory. That is why I have requested that the government merely monitors the annoying individual but refrains from taking action.’

There were general nods of agreement.

‘If we are not careful this Jesus character will create too much peace,’ Number 17 observed in a surly defensive manner having taken umbrage at the attitude that had been picked up from the group. ‘Peace is not good for business.’

‘Quite,’ Number 1 agreed in a manner that put the matter to bed. ‘Now item 2. The Nationalist bombing campaign. Over to you I believe Number 2.’

Conexion: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781729561782: Books

Conexion is a Drug. Conexion is a Sci-fi novel – Paperback/Kindle

Posted on by Opher

Conexion is a drug that takes you back through memories stored in your DNA to the lives of ancestors. What we find is beyond belief. The aliens are coming.

Excerpt – Conexion

‘A series of bombs have been detonated simultaneously at a number of transit hubs on Terra, Mars and Venus,’ the news announcer reported with that professional detached blank expression.

In billions of homes 3D holos of the announcer sitting in front of a backdrop of explosions played in the corners of billions of rooms.

‘The death toll is likely to reach into the thousands.’ He paused while the scenes of devastation were displayed. ‘Secretary General Rheen has condemned the actions of the terrorists responsible.’

The pictures of the carnage continued to play behind the sombre announcer.

‘So far two different terrorist groups have claimed responsibility. Both the Moony Liberation Movement and the Refutians say they laid the bombs. Secretary General Rheen has promised that whoever is responsible, whether religious fundamentalists or political segregationists, they will be hunted down and made to pay.’

Harry Bane sat in his comfy pexicush having just returned from work and was consuming the meal he had just dialled up.

‘I bet it’s those Moonies,’ he remarked to his partner as he surveyed the scene with his spoon inches from his mouth.

‘Could be,’ Javid Bane agreed. ‘I wouldn’t put it past them. Those nationalist scum will stop at nothing to get their own way.’

‘They’re all as bad as each other as far as I can see,’ Harry replied. ‘It’s scandalous the way religion has reared its ugly head again. Now they’ve resurrected all that superstitious nonsense with knobs on. They are worse than the nationalists. At least the nationalists have a bit of a just cause even if their tactics are obscene. The religious nutters are just plain mad.’

‘I don’t agree with that,’ Javid muttered darkly. ‘There’s has to be more to life than mere existence. Perhaps there is something more that we just don’t know about?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Harry Bane said, giving Javid a dark scowl. ‘I suppose that gives them carte blanche to blow up innocent people?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Javid protested, backing down. He had no wish to end up with one of their big rows. ‘Nothing justifies blowing up innocent people.’

Harry settled back in his pexicush and began spooning down his food as the two of them morbidly watched the terrible scene unfurl as the holo cameras revealed the full extent of the terrible crimes.

Conexion: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781729561782: Books

Conexion is a Drug. Conexion is a Sci-fi novel – Paperback/Kindle

Posted on by Opher

Conexion is a Drug. Conexion is a Sci-fi novel – Paperback/Kindle

It’s the future. Conexion is a drug that takes you back through your DNA to the lives of your ancestors. The past sure is strange. Then we have aliens. Where do they come in? The past and future meet in this tense tale.

Excerpt – Conexion 

Nova City was the biggest place on the whole of Titan. Ten billion people lived in the honeycombed labyrinths carved into the rock under the protective dome of Titan’s rocky surface.

Despite the hopes of the early pioneers no sign of life had been found in Titan’s underground oceans. Far from the sun, which only appeared as a large star one hundredth the size of Sol as seen from Terra, but with the large globe of Saturn looming over it through the gloom of its hazy atmosphere, Titan had presented many problems for the early settlers – the frigid temperature being just one of the many. But Titan proved fruitful in many other ways and gave up its bounty in ice and minerals which amply supported the cost of its terraforming. Besides, new homes were required for the billions of human offspring. There was little option but to make use of any available rock that could be made habitable. Titan proved a useful tool in the re-homing of the progeny of Homo sapiens prolific fertility.

The trouble was that life was not fair. People were not equal. Life on Ganymede, Europa and Titan lacked many of the luxuries taken for granted elsewhere in the system. Pay was low and conditions were poor. People felt distinctly second class, outcast from the pleasures and artistic hubs of the major planets. It bred dissatisfaction and resentment. Many felt that they were getting the rough end of the stick and that their world’s resources were being bled away to support the lavish lifestyles of the planetary elite. That was why there were moves to break away and declare independence so that they could better their lot and free themselves of the shackles of the federation.

Then there was the social and artistic separation that was felt so acutely. The rich panoply of social and artistic life that was so abundant elsewhere was only focussed on the planets. Very little found its way out to the further regions. That sparsity of culture generated a provincial mentality. People felt abandoned and treated as second-class citizens. It created a sense of bitterness.

Nova City was ripe for Nationalistic terrorism and religious fanaticism.

This was the background that Jesus De Monde encountered, from which he had emerged. He was a truly charismatic figure who rose out of nowhere to address the concerns and fears of the extra-planetary masses who felt both oppressed and discarded. Jesus De Monde was a huge bear of a man with ebony black skin, dreadlocks, a sharp mind and a smiling face with glistening white teeth that seemed to always shine with love and optimism. He brought the people of the outer worlds hope and provided them with a vision of the future that was more promising than anything they had ever imagined before. With Jesus it was not ‘pie in the sky’ but the real possibility of progress and equality right now.

His message was clear – progress could be made without the threats of bombs and hatred, without the need for separation and segregation, without disunity or even the false succour of religion. By unifying the disaffected people and peacefully demanding greater rights they could win a better standard of life to that of their present iniquitous oppression of life while living out in the boondocks of the outer worlds. His passion and charisma made people listen and believe in him.  He made them believe that a better future could be achieved out there on the fringes. He promised them that their grievances could be addressed, and that they, the Moonies, as they described themselves, need no longer be second class citizens. He assured them that they deserved better

As testimony to his personal magnetism and growing power Jesus De Monde had managed to bring together representatives of the various religious and political factions to hold discussions about a way forward. The very fact of managing to get such aggressive and violent groups together under one roof was almost a miracle in itself. The fact that they were actually listening to him and taking his ideas seriously was beyond belief.

For all the oppressed people of the rim it was a giant step in the right direction.

Conexion: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781729561782: Books

Conexion – A Sci-fi novel – Paperback/Kindle – Gaia – the religious cult.

Posted on by Opher

Conexion is a drug that takes you back through DNA to the lives of your ancestors.

Gaia is a religious cult. The novel weaves many threads as it unravels its tale.

Excerpt – Conexion

Jurgen Fried wore the green cloak with pride as he made his way through the congregation. They too were decked in green. Green was the colour of plants and of the Earth. Green was the mother of colours. It was the spectrum of the producers that gave life to everything. Green was the symbol of all that was pure; of the mother from which they had sprung.

Reaching the platform he solemnly mounted the steps and then turned to face the joyous congregation he raised his hands in the air and proclaimed the truth to the faithful –

‘The Earth lives!’

They roared their agreement. The Earth did indeed live. They were the sons and daughters of Terra.

‘We sprang from the soil,’ Jurgen announced looking up towards the heavens.

‘We will return to the soil.’ He looked down at the ground. It was all very theatrical and dramatic. The liturgy of Gaia followed a set format. Part of its appeal was that they shared this routine; they were part of it in brotherhood and sisterhood of Terra.

Gaia had asserted itself into the vacuum that had been left in human nature by progressing into the scientific culture after the old religions had been left behind. Science had partially filled the gap but had failed to answer all the questions of the mystery of life. Human psychology required something more – some ritual – something based on irrational belief – something that satisfied that quest for purpose and explanation as well as something that created that bonding, that tribal sense of belonging that humans seemed to crave. Gaia, with its richness of ceremony, symbolism and sense of purpose filled that gap.

Its very nature was satisfying and reassuring. In this age of synthetics and sanitised life, totally separated from nature, there was a need to reconnect to the primeval forces from which life had emerged. People wanted a psychological and spiritual connection. They wanted something mystical and metaphysical that connected them to the universe and linked them in to a force that was much greater than themselves. There was almost a desperation to believe in a spiritual power outside of themselves.

Gaia proclaimed that there was such a force and it flowed through them, the planet and out through the whole universe. Everything lived. There was a cosmic dynamo and they could all be one with it.

Gaia gave them belief in a greater spiritual entity that gave purpose to their lives.

Gaia filled all those basic human needs.

They wanted it.

They craved it.

They felt reborn in it.

Jurgen could feel that passion and devout fervour welling up to him from the crowd below as he stood on his platform, and he channelled it into himself and back to them, magnified tenfold. He fed off the energy coming up from them and he reflected it back to the ecstatic crowd in a great rapturous wave of sheer pleasure. He felt the power soar inside him and was exhilarated by it.

‘The planet lives!’ Jurgen proclaimed as the crowd went wild.

‘We are one with the planet!’

It truly felt as if they really were. The feeling of oneness and elation of belonging was overwhelming. Even Jurgen could sense it and was beginning to believe there might be a basis to it. He was in danger of becoming a devotee himself. That would be quite something!

Gaia was a force to be reckoned with.

‘The planet lives!!’

His spirit rose up, carried by the mountainous roar coming up from the faithful below.

Conexion: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781729561782: Books

Conexion Paperback/Kindle

Posted on by Opher

Conexion is a drug. It takes you back in time, back through the memories stored in your DNA to relive the lives of your ancestors. Things are about to get weird.

Excerpt – Conexion 

Julia Rogers was the ultimate in Hipster designers and she certainly looked the part. Her appearance, with its writhing scarlet medusa hair, dresses made of living material that transformed into swirls of psychedelic colour that interacted with the mutable splashes of vividly coloured transition tattoos that flowed and swirled across her skin, was every bit as extreme and garish as the vibrant Holographic designs for which she was renowned. It made for uneasy family reunions with the rather conventional father who had made his name and fortune mining the asteroids. John ‘Buck’ Rogers was quite a pillar of society and his daughter’s chosen lifestyle proved difficult to swallow. That was probably why they rarely met up. She tended to keep her distance and he was rarely on planet. It suited them both.

Julia took her usual precautions. It was part of the game. She knew that the bureau kept tabs on her; they kept tabs on anyone who was not main-stream. She also knew that they closely monitored Josie even more closely. That was the way of the world. She’d even discussed it with Josie while knowing full well that their conversation was probably being listened to. But they were old hands at the game and knew the score. As long as they kept their business low-key and followed the protocol they knew they would be left alone. So Julia played her role and went through the motions.

She disembarked from her scudcab at the supermart, walked briskly through to the other side and flicked for another. It dropped her off a block away from Josie’s. She walked to the aperture resisting all inclination to look around her, glanced at the iris recorder and stepped into the vestibule as the aperture slid open.

She always followed the same routine. She figured that they expected it of her. There was a game to be played.

Josie had a limited clientele and deliberately kept it that way. She figured that her small enterprise would be tolerated but if she got too greedy they would soon be taking her in for reprogramming. Besides, she liked it this way. It was more personal, more of a family business that operated between associates and friends. She had no desire to expand the operation. She made a comfortable living out of it and enjoyed herself into the bargain. What more could one want? She’d found her niche. She provided for her small group who she regarded more as personal friends than clients and the authorities let her alone.

‘Hi Jules,’ she said in way of greeting, looking genuinely pleased to see her, gesturing towards a pexicush and passing her a vessel of red liquid. ‘Try some of this.’

Julie accepted the vessel, sniffed and took a sip. They made quite a contrast, the two girls – Julie with her extreme Avant Garde appearance and Josie, equally striking with her dark complexion and large hair, but in a much more conventional garb.

Conexion: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781729561782: Books

Conexion – A Sci-Fi classic (Conexion is a drug)

Posted on by Opher

I wrote this novel by combining three big ideas – where did humans come from, meetings with aliens and a drug that could take us back through time, through memories stored in our DNA. It made for a fascinating tale. All very unexpected.

This is the start:

Conexion Paperback/kindle – Chapter 1 – As it was

James Hendrix, better known as Jimi to everyone who knew him, noted the first indication at precisely 2.37 and 37 seconds on May 30th 2249.

It was a date that was to go down in history as one of the most auspicious events ever recorded, even though at the time Jimi thought little of it and paid it scant attention. 

That was not surprising. Warnings went off routinely as every lump of rock or piece of space junk that was heading anywhere near an inhabited planet was flagged up. Most were of little consequence and would simply burn up in the atmosphere but a few were big enough to cause concern and had to be dealt with. That’s why the agency had been set up.

 Jimi assigned the latest intruder a signature code – JHUMA91074 – then he left it to its automatic tracking system and went back to playing Solum with the station’s computer.

JH were his initials, UMA stood for Ursa Major, the segment of space from which the object was first recorded coming in. It was quite an unusual one as could be seen from the low number of recorded warnings, 91074 indicated the number of objects that had originated from that sector.

Once assigned, the computer continued to plot the trajectory and that was normally where the whole matter ended. Most of the debris was considered of no risk and was merely monitored, never to be heard of again. People like Jimi performed the mundane task of acknowledging the warning just as a fail-safe. The Public did not like the idea of there not being a human touch somewhere along the line. They felt that humans should make the decisions even though it had been well proven that computers were far better at it.

There wasn’t a great deal of excitement to be had in Jimi’s work. Being an astrophysicist had sounded great when he’d opted for the training but wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Jimi worked for the AEWC – the Asteroid Early Warning Centre – in its favour, it paid well and at least got one up into vacuum even if that’s as far as it went. For the most part his work consisted of spending long tedious hours on his own every night, pointlessly acknowledging things of no significance that the computer had already done, and vainly hoping for an event of significance to finally take place so that there was at least something to get excited over. The sad fact was that even if a major event did occur then all Jimi had to do was ensure that the computer had passed the information on to his superiors, which it routinely did anyway – so even that wasn’t exactly thrilling.

It was not a pleasant thing to realise that one was in effect redundant and surplus to requirements, so Jimi tried not to think about it too much, which was why he spent most of his time playing games with the computer. Even that enterprise was futile – about as pointless as checking space junk. He knew the computer could beat him hands down every time if it had not been programmed to limit its capabilities in order to give him a fighting chance. Still, it whiled the hours away.

Jimi had not paid too much attention to this particular intrusion other than to note that the object was far too far away at this point in time to be of any importance, so he did not have to register it into his consciousness or grant it a moment’s speculation as to what it might be. A minor niggle did reach the surface of his thoughts; if it was far away and yet had registered it had to be big. But hey, space was full of lumps of rock and the majority of them were of absolutely no significance. Space was big. As long as they did not cross routes or threaten planets they could be disregarded.

It goes to show, doesn’t it? There’s no limit to how wrong a person might be!

Conexion: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781729561782: Books

Conexion – A Sci-fi Novel – A drug that takes you back through your ancestors’ lives.

Posted on by Opher

Conexion

 Loudhailer UK January 29, 2017

In the future it is still all about power.

General Secretary Rheen holds the reins but does he hold the power?

What about the members of the shadowy Consortium who supply the money to get him elected? …

The separatists who are prepared to use violence?

The Unification Movement who would bring the opposition together?

Or the people who democratically vote?

What of the stranded Starship?

And what of the new drug Conexion that opens genetic memories to unlock an unexpected past?

The new Gaia religion?

Or the three massive spherical objects heading for earth?

How will it all come to a conclusion?

Extract

Chapter 1 – As it was

James Hendrix, better known as Jimi to everyone who knew him, noted the first indication at precisely 2.37 and 37 seconds on May 30th 2249.

It was a date that was to go down in history as one of the most auspicious events ever recorded, even though at the time Jimi thought little of it and paid it scant attention.

That was not surprising. Warnings went off routinely as every lump of rock or piece of space junk that was heading anywhere near an inhabited planet was flagged up. Most were of little consequence and would simply burn up in the atmosphere but a few were big enough to cause concern and had to be dealt with. That’s why the agency had been set up.

Jimi assigned the latest intruder a signature code – JHUMA91074 – then he left it to its automatic tracking system and went back to playing Solum with the station’s computer.

JH were his initials, UMA stood for Ursa Major, the segment of space from which the object was first recorded coming in. It was quite an unusual one as could be seen from the low number of recorded warnings, 91074 indicated the number of objects that had originated from that sector.

Once assigned, the computer continued to plot the trajectory and that was normally where the whole matter ended. Most of the debris was considered of no risk and was merely monitored, never to be heard of again. People like Jimi performed the mundane task of acknowledging the warning just as a fail-safe. The Public did not like the idea of there not being a human touch somewhere along the line. They felt that humans should make the decisions even though it had been well proven that computers were far better at it.

There wasn’t a great deal of excitement to be had in Jimi’s work. Being an astrophysicist had sounded great when he’d opted for the training but wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Jimi worked for the AEWC – the Asteroid Early Warning Centre – in its favour, it paid well and at least got one up into vacuum even if that’s as far as it went. For the most part his work consisted of spending long tedious hours on his own every night, pointlessly acknowledging things of no significance that the computer had already done, and vainly hoping for an event of significance to finally take place so that there was at least something to get excited over. The sad fact was that even if a major event did occur then all Jimi had to do was ensure that the computer had passed the information on to his superiors, which it routinely did anyway – so even that wasn’t exactly thrilling.

It was not a pleasant thing to realise that one was in effect redundant and surplus to requirements, so Jimi tried not to think about it too much, which was why he spent most of his time playing games with the computer. Even that enterprise was futile – about as pointless as checking space junk. He knew the computer could beat him hands down every time if it had not been programmed to limit its capabilities in order to give him a fighting chance. Still, it whiled the hours away.

Jimi had not paid too much attention to this particular intrusion other than to note that the object was far too far away at this point in time to be of any importance, so he did not have to register it into his consciousness or grant it a moment’s speculation as to what it might be. A minor niggle did reach the surface of his thoughts; if it was far away and yet had registered it had to be big. But hey, space was full of lumps of rock and the majority of them were of absolutely no significance. Space was big. As long as they did not cross routes or threaten planets they could be disregarded.

It goes to show, doesn’t it? There’s no limit to how wrong a person might be!

Available in both paperback and kindle on Amazon.

In the UK:

Buy the book – click here

In the USA:

Buy the book – click here

In India:

Buy the book – click here

In Canada:

Buy the book – click here

In Germany:

Buy the book – click here

In Australia

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Or from your local Amazon Store.

Conexion a Sci-fi novel – suggestion/comments welcome.

Posted on by Opher

I haven’t entirely been idle as I have been on my travels to Sorrento and the North West of England which has kept my blog a little quiet lately. I have been writing a new Sci-fi book called Conexion.

I have just completed the second draft this very evening and am starting the third draft tomorrow.

I would be very grateful for any comments or suggestions.

Thank you!

Here is the opening section:

Chapter 1 – As it was

James Hendrix, better known as Jimi to everyone who knew him, noted the first indication at precisely 2.37 and 37 seconds on May 30th 2249.

It was a date that was to go down in history as one of the most auspicious, even though at the time he thought little of it.

Warnings went off routinely as every lump of rock or space junk that was heading anywhere near an inhabited planet was flagged up. Most were of little consequence and would simply burn up in the atmosphere but a few were big enough to cause concern. That’s why the agency was set up.

Jimi assigned the latest intruder a signature code – JHUMA91074 – then he left it to its automatic tracking and went back to playing Solum with the station’s computer.

JH were his initials, UMA stood for Ursa Major, the segment of space that the object was first recorded coming in from, and quite an unusual one as could be seen from the low number of recorded warnings, 91074 indicated the number of objects that had originated from that sector.

Once assigned the computer continued to plot the trajectory and that was normally where the whole matter ended. Most of the debris was considered of no risk and were merely monitored, never to be heard of again. People like Jimi performed the mundane task of acknowledging the warning just as a fail-safe. The Public did not like the idea of there not being a human touch somewhere along the line. They felt that humans should make the decisions even though it had been well proven that computers were far better at it.

There wasn’t a great deal of excitement to be had in Jimi’s work. Being an astrophysicist had sounded great when he’d opted for the training but wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Jimi worked for the AEWC – the Asteroid Early Warning Centre – in its favour it paid well and at least got one up into vacuum even if that’s as far as it went. For the most part it consisted of mainly spending long tedious hours on your own every night, pointlessly acknowledging things of no significance that the computer had already done, and vainly hoping for an event of significance to finally take place so that there was at least something to get excited over. The sad fact was that even if a major event did occur then all Jimi had to do was ensure that the computer had passed the information on to his superiors, which it routinely did anyway – so even that wasn’t exactly thrilling.

It was not a pleasant thing to realise that one was in effect redundant and surplus to requirements, so Jimi tried not to think about it too much, which was why he spent most of his time playing games with the computer. Even that enterprise was futile – about as pointless as checking space junk. He knew the computer could beat him hands down every time if it had not been programmed to limit its capabilities in order to give him a fighting chance. Still, it whiled the hours away.

Jimi had not paid too much attention to this particular intrusion other than to note that the object was far too far away at this point in time to be of any importance, so he did not have to register it into his consciousness or grant it a moment’s speculation as to what it might be. A minor niggle did reach the surface of his thoughts; if it was far away and yet had registered it had to be big. But hey, space was full of lumps of rock and the majority of them were of absolutely no significance. Space was big. As long as they did not cross routes or threaten planets they could be disregarded.

It goes to show, doesn’t it? There’s no limit to how wrong a person might be!