Sci-fi Novel – Zero to Infinity – A Blast from the past!!

Posted on by Opher

I blame Anne Gregory for this! I wrote this book way back in 1973-5. It’s a four hundred page blaster – my first Sci-fi novel and second book.

When I realised that the collage approach of poems, cartoons and weird prose of my first book wasn’t going to make it as nobody seemed to be able to read it, I decided that I had to present my philosophical and social ideas in a different form. I chose Sci-fi.

This then is the product of an over-excited imagination combined with naïve enthusiasm. For forty years it existed as a typed manuscript. In 2015 I got around to laboriously rewriting it into a digital file on my computer. I fully intended to get back to it and do a thorough rewrite but never did. It sat there for ten years. Then Anne Gregory fired me up about my old hobby horse of infinity coupled with mysticism and I went to check. There it was sitting in among all those many files on my computer. So I dusted it off and put it out.

I never did get around to that rewrite. It’s for me – an artefact of my youthful naivety.

Zero To Infinity – No Change: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798312276985: Books

Sci-fi Novel – Zero to Infinity – presently struggling to rewrite.

Posted on  by Opher

I first wrote this novel back in 1973/4. The trouble is that it is four hundred typed pages. I wrote it on an old type-writer with a dodgy ribbon. As I’m a one-finger typist it is very time-consuming. On top of that my writing has improved considerably in the forty years since then and I’m having to rewrite as I go along in order to get it up to a decent standard. It’s exhausting and daunting.

I keep having to take breaks from it. You can only do so many twelve hour days.

I’m presently only on page 14!!  So there is a long, long way to go!

As I can’t remember too much about this book (I’ve written forty odd others since then) I’m not even sure if the structure and plot holds up. I might have to do major surgery as I go along. We’ll see.

I’ll keep you posted every now and then when I need a break!!

Sci-fi Novel – Zero to Infinity – presently struggling to rewrite.

Posted on  by Opher

The mammoth task of rewriting my Sci-fi epic has been completed. I wrote this back in 1974. It was my second book. It has existed for forty years as a typed manuscript. It was with great trepidation that I set about rewriting it. I wasn’t sure what to expect as I couldn’t remember much about writing it.

My first book (in two volumes) was a rambling 60s thing. Full of poems, cartoons and insane sketches. I poured all my weirdness into it and discovered that it was virtually unreadable by anybody else.

Undaunted I set about writing a proper book with a plot. This was it.

It has stuck around as two big thick manuscripts. I finally plucked up the courage to type it up. As I am a one-finger typist. This is quite an effort. It was even more so when some of the plotting was crap and the writing was so up and down. I had to completely revamp and work at the writing.

UI was surprised with what came out of the end. It’s full of weird, mystical stuff that I wouldn’t have put in these days but I liked the ideas.

I will now let it settle and then do a second rewrite.

Zero To Infinity – No Change: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798312276985: Books

God’s Bolt – A Sci-Fi classic.

Posted on by Opher

I was in conversation on line concerning drama. When you are writing a novel it is important to create drama and suspense in order to draw the reader into the story. A skilled writer creates character and drama. I was explaining how I had deliberately sabotaged the usual sequence of a novel by starting at the end. Throughout the book the reader knows the outcome. The challenge was to engage the reader in the suspense and intrigue despite them knowing the outcome.

This is that book. Only you can judge how successful I was.

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

Chapter 1 – The End and the Beginning

Year 2178 – Impact day

I have never felt so utterly alone. A raging storm of nausea was gnawing at my belly as I began my routine morning broadcast – except that there was nothing normal about this one.

‘Good morning everybody,’ I said cheerily, putting on my best smile. ‘This is Helen Southcote beaming down to you from the United Nations International Space Station.’

I was totally unsure of the wisdom of continuing these tridee broadcasts, particularly on such an auspicious day as this. Who on earth was tuned in? Surely they’d all be in a panic, desperately seeking safety for themselves and their loved ones. Nobody would be at all interested in any platitudes from me. But the powers that be, in the form of mission controller Brad Noone, had assured me that it was necessary. The psychologists thought that it might help to continue with normality and reduce panic. Who was I to argue? They’d provided me with a script. I suppressed my anger and upset. Put aside my personal feelings about what had happened to my friends. The show had to go on. I was doing it for the kids, I kept reminding myself – it was for the kids.

‘The earth sure looks beautiful spread out there below me.’ I showed them images of the planet below me with its green seas and swirling white clouds.

With a lot of trepidation, which I hoped did not show too much, I turned my attention to the subject that was foremost in everybody’s minds. ‘Preparations are well underway to deal with the remaining threat from Chang’s comet,’ I assured them. ‘Missiles are poised to destroy the largest incoming rocks but President Khun Mae Srisuk has urged everyone to either seek sanctuary in the prescribed shelters or to evacuate to designated regions of safety. There are bound to be some meteorites that will cause some collateral damage. Better to be safe than sorry.’

I offered them one of my best smiles. The cheery tones sounded so phoney to me.

‘This promises to be one of the most spectacular shows you’ll ever see,’ I promised them. Be reassuring I’d been instructed – be upbeat. Lie. Even the most optimistic reports were predicting widespread damage across the United States, Canada and into Russia. The earth was going to be bombarded with the biggest deluge of rocks in recent history. Chang’s comet was a monster and even broken up as it was, presented a real danger to the survival of the planet. They just had to hope that this time the scientists had got it right and every single major threat would be neutralised. It was a big ask. They had not managed such a brilliant job up to now. This last ditch effort was to target all the remaining large rocks and pulverise them in the upper atmosphere so that the remains would burn up on entry. If all went to plan it was certain to be the most amazing display. The worry was that if a single one of those chunks of rock was missed……………….……….. well that didn’t bear thinking about. ‘Make sure you watch from safety!’ I chastised them. There were always some thrill seekers who sought to put themselves in danger. ‘As for me, well I’ve got the best seat in the house, a real grandstand view. UNISS will be in exactly the right place to record the whole sequence of events and you can bet that I’ll be relaying it to you live as it happens!’

I then proceeded to give them a dull and boring update on the various experiments taking place, the weather, solar activity and conditions in space. Normality. That’s what I’d been instructed to do.

‘This is Helen Southcote signing off until tomorrow. Be safe! See you soon’

‘Good job!’ Brad Noone intoned in his dulcet tones after I’d shut down. That was high praise coming from him.

‘Yes, Good one Helen,’ Happiness Ntobe added more enthusiastically. There was an element of wonder in her voice. She found it hard to believe that I’d pulled off such a jaunty performance in the face of such a terrifying prospect. I didn’t need telling. The mood back at Mission Control was one of great trepidation. It was tinged with fear verging on terror. They knew the real picture of what was coming and their confidence was not exactly riding high. Their minds were fixed on their family and friends. But I was a seasoned professional at the age of 33. I’d learnt to control my emotions. I’d been broadcasting for eight years now. I was used to it.

The rest of the day was mine and it lasted an eternity. Time dragged. I immersed myself in the routine of the station. I had to check on the work of all my absent colleagues; looking in on the horticulture work of Jeff and Bander’s, the weird zero G chemistry of Lynn and Izabel’s as well as my own work. I saved Jomo and Remi’s lab until last. That was still too painful. It set me crying. Then I did a check of the station security. All the time I was doing my rounds I kept up a running commentary with Eunice, the station’s computer, and the guys at Mission Control – Brad, Neil, Janice and Happiness. I think they were doing the same as me – desperately trying to occupy themselves, to take their minds off what was shortly going to be happening, at least the human components were. Eunice was just a chunk of metal, plastic and electricity. She had no mind. I don’t think it worked for any of us though. No matter what I was doing I kept getting images of a huge rock battering into earth and the planet being smashed to smithereens. I wished I’d never seen those damn sensationalist media images. Stupid, irresponsible rubbish. President Khun Mae Srisuk should have put a stop to it. They never should have gone out.

In the afternoon I resorted to putting the music on as loud as I could in order to drown out my thoughts and did my exercise routine with even greater ferocity than usual. Even that didn’t help though. Nothing could rid my mind of those images that were clogging up my head.

After an eternity, the twilight horizon crept over the edge of the planet and the coast of the United States of America crept into view. Despite the mass evacuations it was still lit up like a giant funfair. The sight of it sent chills through me. I could imagine the scenes in the cities below me. I’d seen the news reports. It was pandemonium. Impact was centred right over the Eastern seaboard. One of the most populated places on earth. I know they’d moved most people out but it still did not bear thinking about.  I could imagine the huge throngs of superstitious religious lunatics – those who had called the event God’s Bolt and believed this asteroid was an act of God, sent to punish us for the sins of humanity – gathered on the hilltops praying to God and exalting him to spare them. Part of me desperately hoped they would prevail even though my rational self ridiculed their foolishness and maliciously hoped a meteorite or two would land right among them and put an end to their nonsense.

Already the sky was lit up with a criss-crossing of orange streaks from the early vanguard of rocks liberated from the blasting of Chang’s Comet. They were harmlessly burning out in the heavens and putting on quite a display but one that was merely a precursor to the main show.

Neanderthal – A Sci-fi Classic

Posted on by Opher

What if the Neanderthals never died out?

What if they are incredibly more intelligent than us?

What if we find and disturb them?

Excerpt – Neanderthal 

Chapter 1

The sun broke through the London gloom bringing a burst of warmth. The brightness lit up the fancy brickwork façade on the old main block of the Queen Mary Imperial College, one of the many jewels of London University. On campus students were sprawled on the grass talking. Some were reluctantly strolling along the paths towards the many modern buildings that housed their lectures. It was one of those hot summer days in which nobody had any desire to be inside, indeed, nobody had any desire to do anything, except to loll about in the sun and talk.

But inside the Blizard Hall the Perrin lecture theatre was packed. It seated four hundred, but there was standing room only. They had come to hear Roger Comstock give one of his renowned talks on human evolution. He was the main man and could always be relied on to provide an interesting, lively exposition, with a few quirky controversial ideas thrown in for good measure. It made him extremely popular and well worth forsaking the pleasures of the languid summer heat.

Roger was coming to the end of his lecture.

‘And then there is the mystery of the Neanderthal man,’ Roger shrugged. ‘I feel very close to the Neanderthal,’ he explained with a broad smile. ‘Probably because, as a European, I always carry a bit of Neanderthal around with me. Up to 4% of our genome is made up of Neanderthal genes. They live on in us.’

There was a murmur of asides with some titters of laughter.

‘At one time we coexisted with the Neanderthal. We even bred with them. But then that isn’t so very unusual,’ he cocked his head and chuckled, ‘I’m sure we are all aware of some people who would try to breed with any species they could get their hands on.’

A louder chortle went round the lecture theatre.

‘Now I know some of you purists out there will be a bit sceptical here. Were Neanderthals really a separate species of humans? Surely if they were, by definition, they could not successfully interbreed. Well that is certainly open to debate. Perhaps we should technically regard them as a subspecies? It is a moot point. The truth of the matter is that these people were a distinct second group of humans with genetically different genomes and we did somehow manage to successfully interbreed with them.’

‘Just imagine what it would be like if we shared this planet with other species of man – human beings of a different kind with many characteristics that were not the same. Intelligent people like us but yet dissimilar. How would that affect our psychology?’

He allowed his audience to dwell on that for a moment or two.

‘Perhaps their thought patterns would be very divergent to ours. They might have novel ideas and views on life.’

‘Just think what an impact that might have on the way we behave if we weren’t the only intelligent beings on this planet.’

‘We’d probably wipe them out!’ One bold student called out.

‘hmmf – We probably did,’ Roger replied, peering into the dim vicinity from where the voice had come. He chuckled again. ‘We probably did.’

Turning back to address the auditorium. ‘At one point in our evolution, back in Africa, we did share the planet with other species of humans. There were at least four species of early man who coexisted on that continent. Would it affect our religious outlook? Our view of ourselves? Our social aims? Or our politics? I ask you, would we be different people if we shared this planet with other species of intelligent human beings? Perhaps humans who were more intelligent than ourselves? Would we see ourselves another way if we did not regard ourselves as the pinnacle of evolution?’

Roger paused and looked down at the floor as if in contemplation before looking back up at his audience.

‘When they dug up those early fossils in the Neander Valley near Dusseldorf, there was a lot of controversy. To start with there was this huge brain capacity. Neanderthals had considerably bigger brains than us. Their capacity was up to 1,600 cm3 as compared to our modest 1,200 to 1,450 cm3. We certainly couldn’t be having that now could we? It might well indicate that they were a good deal brighter than we were.’

There was another murmur.

‘Of course, brain size doesn’t necessarily equate with intelligence, does it? The sperm whale has a brain that is greatly bigger than humans, as does the elephant. Does that mean they are more intelligent?’

‘Neither of them have to work for a living,’ the same wag called out.

‘No, that is certainly true,’ Roger said smiling broadly, looking round towards the direction of the voice. ‘They don’t have to work. But they do get hunted and killed and none of them have yet developed any technology.’

‘Is developing hydrogen bombs a sign of intelligence?’ the discorporate voice called out.

Roger searched the indistinct shadowy faces for the source of this dialogue. He quite liked getting a response from his audience but liked to put a face to it.

‘Probably not,’ he agreed. ‘But what is certainly true is that human beings do not like their supremacy challenged. There has been much energy expended in attempting to prove that while Neanderthal brains might well be bigger they certainly weren’t smarter. The cynics have churned out paper after paper discussing the relative size of the optical regions and motor regions. According to these research papers, our friends the Neanderthal were brilliant at seeing and controlling their bodies but lacked the cerebral folds to challenge us when it comes to maths or science. They’d be good at body popping though.’

He pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘I’ll leave it to you to check out what you think on that subject and come to your own conclusions.’

‘But I digress,’ Roger said, looking round at them. ‘Getting back to that mystery. Neanderthals prospered in Europe. They had migrated out of Africa at a much earlier stage to us and colonised a wide area. They had developed a rich culture and technology. Their use of fire, tools and cave painting was at least as advanced as ours. But around 40,000 years ago they suddenly all died out. Why was that?’

Neanderthal: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798393554262: Books

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

A few brilliant Sci-fi novels to Whet the Appetite.

Posted on by Opher

Neanderthal: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798393554262: Books

What happened to the Neanderthals 40,000 years ago?They had larger brains and were more intelligent. Why did they disappear?When the President of Brazil begins a project to build a highway through the middle of the Amazon he knew that he was going to provoke a response – little did he envisage what earth-shattering results it would end up becoming.This story delves into the very psyche of humanity and how people might respond when confronted with an alien invasion from a superior race. A Science Fiction story like no other.

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

Helen Southcote is looking for a purpose to life through her Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence work on the United Nations Space Station when she watches the Earth destroyed by an asteroid. What can she do next?

Reawakening: The Sequel to God’s Bolt: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781094954585: Books

This is the sequel to God’s Bolt.Helen Southcote, the sole survivor of a stricken Earth, is alone on the Space Station.This is the tale of her journey through space and time towards Tau Sagittarii, 122 light years away.This is also the story of the aliens who live in the system around Tau Sagittarii and their reaction to the destruction of Earth.After dealing with the rigours of isolation, mental illness and hopelessness there is the hope of awakening. Then there are the questions about the purpose of life, altruism and the nature of consciousness all in the course of an epic adventure.

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

How do you solve the problem of a world that has been ruined with overpopulation?What part do a small group of genetically mutated children have in the future of mankind?How might an eccentric genetics engineer be involved?New Eden tells the story of dystopian disaster and unlikely renewal.

Star: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798647632906: Books

It’s the sixties – the three thousand one hundred and sixties. The Federation is in conflict with the Confederation. The Troman war rages. There is a civil rights issue with the Androvians. Youth all across the galaxy are in revolt. Rock Music, on an intergalactic scale, is the medium of the rebellion. Zargos Ecstasy and the Terminal Brain Grope are providing the impetus for the rebellion. Zargos, a larger than life character based on Bob Dylan, Hendrix, Jagger, Jim Morrison and Bowie, struts the stage, putting his poems to music and rousing the spacefreaks to seek social justice. If you lived through the sixties you’ll recognise it all.

Quantum Fever eBook : Forsythe, Ron: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

The System is made up of thousands of planets housing trillions of people in tiny doms arranged in tiers. The people are fed drugs to keep them happy and are plugged into immersive tridee.The Consortium are a group of wealthy capitalists who live above the metropolis in floating mansions.The name of the game is expansion and profit. The Quships cross quantum space in search of planets to either colonise or plunder for resources in order to maintain the system.Quantum Fever is a disease that affects people who jump the weird reaches of quantum space. Was Tahsin Roeg suffering from Quantum Fever or were the Consortium seeking to control her?What of the alien planet she discovers?Were the Primitives going to achieve their dream?

Schizoid: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798630523839: Books

The sequel to Quantum Fever. Three hundred years have passed. The aliens are ruining the planet Terra and are on the brink of war. Children of the Primitives on planet Hope are rebelling. President Woud of The System is angered. The Consortium is stirring up trouble………

Green: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798648134003: Books

A Sci-fi novel set in the distant future.Elspin is born without a nervous system; a brain with no connection to the world. She is locked within her dreams. She should have withered into nothing but against all the odds she prospered.Politicians and Business-people are at each others throats. The world is in crisis. The Greens are split into factions. Passions are explosive.They find a way of contacting Elspin. What happens when universes clash?

Will the world survive?

The Gordian Fetish: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9781981947973: Books

How important is consciousness? How rare is it in the universe? It is incredibly rare but not many people here on Earth seem to care about that. But the Gordian’s do – they value it – they seek it out and look to protect it. They have an institute funded by their government that is geared to the conservation of endangered alien sentient beings.Unfortunately a new Gordian leader has come along who believes in austerity. He is threatening to close the institute.Humans are sentient and have a modicum of intelligence. They can hardly be termed endangered though. There are 4000 billion of them. But they are incredibly interesting. They have sex. They also have politics and religion. They pretend to be clever and civilised but they are nowhere near as clever and civilised as they think they are.Most Gordian’s are intrigued by humans. They find sex astounding and humans cute.

Being cute and having sex might just be their saving graces.

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

In the future it is still all about power.General Secretary Rheen holds the reins but does he hold the power?What about 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?

The Pornography Wars: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798814934413: Books

The Pornography Wars takes political satire and social comment (with a liberal dash of humour) into a new dimension.
Sex is the essence of everything.
Is human history contrived by aliens?
Are we in a film set for an alien pornographic soap opera?
Is all human culture nothing more than an alien psych-master’s program?
What happens when the aliens argue over the future of pornography on their tridee sets?
What is going to happen to the future of human beings?

Farm 703 – The Human Project: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798634914367: Books

Farm 703 where humans are controlled by bacteria.

Farm 703 where we are a project created by the Farm Manager.

Farm 703 where there is a move to terminate the human project.

Farm 703 where Head Office will decide on the fate of humanity.

They are allowing me to write this story. They do not think you will believe it.