Re: Adventure idea
This might be a world. But take it somewhere in the midst of the process.
It began with Raul Stenholder, a twenty-four year old, frozen under the ice for two hours, and able to be fully revived. He was not the first such case, but his case offered vital clues as to how the process worked.
This led to men going to the nearer stars in coldsleep.
But at the same time, robots began to take more and more peoples jobs. It was clear, many said that most people were simply a burden on society. Unless you were the right most tenth of one tenth of a percent of genius on the bell curve, you might as well just give up and accept your uselessness.
But the robots never did take completely over, despite such claims. Although many men hung their head in shame as they begged for a job, and many more went to the nearer stars, some which banned robots, and the masters of Earth sneered at them for such tech banning was hopeless, simply hopeless, and even if it succeeded, it would simply leave the colonies technologically deficient. And since such colonies were doomed, it was better not to waste too much investment on such losers.
And then Jim House fell out of his chair, and dropped his cup of coffee. He came too, six weeks later. The coffee he had drunk still warm in his stomach. He had by accident discovered something he spent the next ten years seeking, to the point of madness, and against considerable push back, a practical stasis field. His wires and his coffee had interacted by accident. He found a way to do it on purpose, and it was cheap.
So cheap.
Further stars started to open up, and the masters of Earth pointed out that the nearer stars still needed more people, but no one listened.
And then Paul Smith, of no particular skill, broke the Masters. He put himself into a locker at a spaceport for a twenty buck fee for a year, tapped the stasis field generator which cost a mere five bucks, and put out a sign.
"Wake me if you have a good job."
A year later, he awoke to a dozen media outlets, and B-list bloggers, and stasis field DIYers. They were amused, but also shocked. When he saw no offers, he paid for a new term, and put in a new battery, and ....
Next year, he had ten dozen media outlets, and A-list bloggers, and a couple fan websites devoted to him with reps there. But still no job.
Another year, and he woke to find himself the center of a thousand Sleeping Men in the nearby lockers, and a sneering police pschyiatrist who tried to explain that Paul was not very useful and he should accept that, and come out of the locker. Paul laughed, and...
This time he woke to a shouting match between several famous pundits and a bit of a media circus. He stayed awake for an hour this time.
The next time he woke there was a silly claim that he was emitting carbon atoms in excess of some ancient law, which was plainly impossible in stasis, and had to be moved. So he got up, and moved to another spaceport, and did so again.
Next year, there was a job offer. It was insulting, and did not offer enough for him to live on.
The following year, there was an anonymous death threat, and no media.
After that, he took to jumping forward five years. Next time he woke, he was in the midst of a city of fifty thousand Sleeping Men. And he heard from a subdued national pundit that there were hundreds of Sleep Cities worldwide.
Ten years after that, one of the Masters of the Earth, a once young men now old and gray from the passage of years spoke to the still young Paul.
"What do you want?"
"What any man wants. Respect, a decent wage, a house, a wife, kids, time to go fishing...is that so unreasonable?"
"But you're useless."
"Oh well, in that case..." Paul reached for his stasis generator to restart it.
"No." The gaunt-faced man said. Paul raised an eyebrow.
"No? Why?"
"You're going to force me to say it, aren't you?"
Paul smiled gently, and waited.
"All right. We need you. We need others like you. The best and brightest are often the craziest, and the laziest, and they can't get organized to do a job for all the money in the world as every one of them thinks its his way or the highway. Plus, most of them aren't really that bright, they just think they are."
"There is more you could say, but that will do for a start."
"I hate them you know. The 'best' that is." The old man said shaking his finely coiffed head of silver hair. "I used to have workers who I could hand a job too, and say 'do it', and they'd get it done, and if it was too complicated, they weren't afraid of asking my advice, but more often than not they got it done somehow even if not my way. Now I have divas, and screaming ninnies, and everyone is ready to kill each other at the drop of a hat, and ..."
"I'm trustworthy, sensible, and while I'm reasonably bright, I'm willing to admit there is a whole lot I don't know. I'll be glad to work for you..."
"Provided I pay you well."
"And treat me like a man."
"Deal." Said the old man.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:55, Sun 22 Feb 2015.
