Crying Over Spilt Light E-Book

George Saoulidis

• Herausgeber: George Saoulidis
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Hire A Muse, Get A Nobel Prize

Ex Machina meets A Beautiful Mind in this mind-bending sci-fi thriller.

On the verge of abandoning his life-long project, an obsessive physicist hires the innovative service of an android Muse to help him finish his work. But when things start to go missing from his life, he must learn that not all is worth sacrificing on the altar of science before he has nothing left to live for.

From ScifiSelect: " A mind bending thriller on the very concept of inspiration."

From Luke Daniel: "The book, while short, is unique and a true work of literacy."

From Samie Sands: "The plot is fast paced, dark, exciting and gripping. Once I started reading this book, I couldn't put it down. Highly recommended!"

Do you want to know what's next for poor-but-brilliant Yanni? Do you wanna meet the Muse? Then read this unique sci-fi thriller that toys with the very concept of inspiration.

Categories: Hard Science Fiction, Mystery, Science Thriller, Technothrillers, Cyberpunk, Greek Mythology, Artificial Intelligence, Corporations, Androids and Robots.

What is the god complex universe?

The gods are back in town. Skyscrapers pop out of nowhere all over Athens. Corporations rename themselves as Greek gods. It all started with the Greek crisis of 2009 and will forever change the world as we know it.
Some say that CEO’s have gone mad. Others, that they know damn well what they are doing. That there is something solid amongst the myth. In the day of inter-connectivity and social media admiration, can the myths come back to life?

What happens when a corporation gets a god complex? Find out in our series of books on Kindle. Described as light cyberpunk, definitely sci-fi and with a fresh twist on Greek mythology.

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Leseprobe

Contents

Title Page

Chapter Zero

Chapter i

Chapter i^2

Chapter i^3

Chapter i^4

Chapter 2i

Chapter 2i^2

Chapter 2i^3

Chapter 2i^4

Chapter 3i

Chapter 3i^2

Chapter 3i^3

Chapter 3i^4

Chapter 4i

Chapter 4i^2

Chapter 4i^3

Chapter 4i^4

Chapter 5i

Chapter 5i^2

Chapter 5i^3

Chapter 5i^4

Chapter 6i

Chapter 6i^2

Chapter 6i^3

Chapter 6i^4

Chapter 7i

Chapter 7i^2

Chapter 7i^3

Chapter 7i^4

Chapter 8i

Chapter 8i^2

Chapter 8i^3

Chapter Zero

The lady in blue stood still, looking at the corner of the room. The air was undisturbed around her, dust particles descending, a few sun beams briefly illuminating their swirling trajectory.

The body that had caused all this dust upheaval was lying still in the middle of the thick carpet. A tall man, heavy, not of muscle but rather of spaghetti and feta cheese, was facedown, his limbs motionless, drool dripping on the carpet, absorbed instantly. His small glasses were crushed underneath his skull, their skeleton distorted but their lenses intact.

The lady in blue raised her eyes to the whiteboard.

The movement of her eyelashes was not enough to disturb the falling dust.

Mathematical symbols were scrawled on the whiteboard, half of it seemingly written, erased and rewritten a billion times. The top left part was dry, scratched, old. A beginning that had tormented the heavy man for years. The whiteboard was featured prominently in the room, a totem raised high, a constant reminder for the heavy man to keep on working, keep on thinking about what the symbols meant.

There was not much else worth mentioning in the room. It was as if someone had inherited their mother’s house, full of bric-a-brac – drawn thread work linens doilies and other handicrafted item characteristic of a Greek house – and then meticulously removed everything, leaving an obvious discolored patch on the varnish of the furniture. Old, handmade furniture, with creaky latches and uneven feet, made steady through a well-placed folded newspaper page, pressed flat by the weight of years, almost back to the wood pulp it had come from. Someone raised in such a home could easily identify most of the objects missing, from their shadows alone.

There, a thick photo frame. There, hung by the missing nail, be a decorated plate, one that people once seemed to love putting on their walls. Its shape was almost a perfect print on the wall, like an inverse shadow. There, a white crocheted doily would cover that perfect triangular shape.

All of it missing.

The woman in blue walked towards the whiteboard, her soft steps finally disturbing the dust motes and causing them to circle around her. She picked up the marker from the floor, carefully cut a page from a notepad and wrote down the mathematical symbols from the board. She double-checked them, making sure it was all there and then grabbed the torn cloth beside her and wiped the board slowly. She pressed the cloth hard and made sure it was all wiped off properly. The top left part of the symbols resisted for a time, but then gave way.

She put the cloth back and folded the page. Effortlessly.

Then she tucked the folded page inside her blue dress, right next to her heart. Effortlessly.

And then she dragged the heavy man by his leg all the way down the hall. Effortlessly.

Chapter i

Yanni went upstairs to his office/lab. He fired up the laser and turned on the computer attached to it. He closed the blinds to darken the room, wore his protective glasses, took out his e-cig and vaped in the path of the blue laser beam pointing to the ceiling.

The fake cigarette smoke made the laser visible, but it was still going up straight as an arrow.