Something from a chapter later in the new book...

Please always let me know what you think about the writing. It's still in quite a rough form, but you should get a good feel for it. Here goes...

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Noah

"Can I have another orange juice?" Jenny asked. Her bright eyes looked at me pleadingly.

"Please," she added a moment later. "Freshly squeezed, please."

I wasn't paying her any attention at all. I was miles away. I was thinking about what I had found the previous night. The information was going to be invaluable. It was the key to getting access to the SESCC. It was the ultimate hack. It would open doors for me which I never thought existed. It would let me manipulate whole countries. It would give me complete control. I knew that I would never actually use the power I was soon going to have, but nevertheless it was a strangely comforting sensation that I was feeling.

From the beginning I had planned to publish the defects that I was about to uncover in the security of the SESCC, so that people would wake up and realise that the government had too much power in their hands. There was too much information in the hand of too few people.

"Can I, please?" Jenny asked again breaking my trance.

"Sorry, I was miles away, darling. What did you just say, Jenny?" I replied.

"Can I have another orange juice, please?"

"Freshly squeezed?" I asked her.

"Yes, please," she said and smiled at me.

I ordered her another orange juice.

We had gone down to Homeland, Jenny's favourite diner. I had promised to take her there the night before last when she had caught me hacking into various security systems.

"Would you like a sweet?" I asked her.

"Oh, yes, please. Can I have a chocolate éclair, please?" Jenny replied with an even bigger smile on her face.

I knew she wouldn't say no to a sweet. She has always had a sweet tooth, so I ordered an éclair.

"Jenny. I just have to go across the road to drop something off. I will be back in a minute. Will you stay here and wait for me, please?"

"Yes, I will. I will drink my orange juice and eat my chocolate éclair."

"Good. I won't be a minute, all right?"

"All right."

I got up, walked to the door, turned around and winked at Jenny.

"I'll see you in a bit," I said to her. "Don't move, OK?"

She was too busy eating her éclair to hear me.

I walked out into the street. It was a lovely day and very busy. The sun was shining and there was a lovely warm breeze blowing between the tall buildings. I squeezed through two parked cars and crossed the road, dodging the traffic. I wanted to see a friend of mine to give her a copy of last night's findings.

The information I had discovered had to be distributed as much as possible, so that I wouldn't lose everything if the government raided my place and deleted my computer account — and any of my other accounts.

The copy I was about to give to my friend was securely encrypted. Even the government wouldn't be able to decipher it. The encryption was for two reasons: firstly I didn't want the information to get into the wrong hands and secondly, and more importantly, I didn't want my friend to get into trouble for being in possession of classified information. Even though the government didn't like people having encrypted data on their systems, there was nothing they could legally do about it. Not too long ago this was different, thanks to the famous RIP Act¹.

The friend of mine was working for a small computer firm and, just like me, spent a lot of her time hacking into computer systems. The only difference was that I did it to make a living, whereas she saw it more as a hobby. I had met her when I had hacked into the local police station's system and found a trace of another hacker, who later turned out to be her. She had quickly become a very good friend and we often helped each other out if we ever happened to get stuck with our shared interest.

I had reached the building across the street and walked to the entrance. I pressed the buzzer and waited for a reply.

"Hello?" came the answer through the speaker.

"It's me," I said into the microphone.

"Oh, hi there. C'mon up."

The buzzer hummed and I went inside. I climbed the three flights of stairs to her apartment and then knocked at the door. A moment later the door opened and there she was.

"Hello, Laura. How's life?" I said to her.

"Not too bad. Come inside," Laura replied.

"No, can't stay long. Just wanted to drop this off," I said and showed her the CC.

"What in God's name is on it this time?" she wanted to know. She was used to my dropping off hot information on CC for her to check out.

"Can't tell you just yet. It's quite amazing and all top secret. Government of the highest calibre is all I can say."

"Oh, so you've cracked the jackpot then, have you?"

"Well, I suppose you could put it like that. Look, keep this safe and be careful. It's encrypted but that doesn't mean that you can't get into trouble for having it. Ditch it straight away if there is any sign of danger, all right?"

"Yeah, don't worry. I'm not stupid."

"I know. I'm just worried. This is really hot stuff, hotter than anything any of us has ever touched."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry. I'll ditch it if it bites. You sure you don't wanne come in?"

"No, thanks. Would love to, but can't stay. I'll speak to you soon, all right? You take care now," I said to Laura.

"Yes and you," replied Laura. "Speak to you soon."

"Oh, and thanks, “ I said as I was about to go back downstairs. “I really appreciate your help. I'm deeply in your debt. You don't know how much."

"Oh, never mind that crap. Just don't get caught, will you. You look after yourself and I'll look after myself, all right?"

"Yes, Laura. Thanks," I said and walked down the stairs. At the bottom of the first flight of stairs I stopped, looked back up and waved Laura good-bye, who was still standing in the door to her apartment.

"You're an angel," I said.

"I know, you little devil," she replied with a wide smile on her face.

When I got back to the diner, Jenny was waiting for me. She had finished her sweet and the orange juice. She looked at me as I walked through the door.

"Can we have the check, please," I said to one of the waiters and sat down next to Jenny.

"Did you like it, Jenny?"

"Yes, thank you. It was really nice. What are we going to do next?"

"Hm. How about if we go to the park?" I asked Jenny and expected her eyes to light up and her mouth to produce a wide smile.

"Oh, yes, that would be great," Jenny replied and as expected her eyes lit up and she smiled.

"Well, let's go then."

I paid and Jenny and I left the diner.

After a few minutes' walk we finally arrived at the park. Jenny couldn't wait and started to run ahead.

"Be careful, darling. I'll catch up with you at the lake," I shouted after her.

"Yes," she shouted back.

All the way from the diner to the park I felt like we were being watched and as if somebody was following us. Whenever I turned around to check, I could see a figure disappear in a side street, behind a bus shelter or something. I wasn't sure whether it was always the same person, but it was certainly unusual.

The park was a wide-open space and it would be easy to find out whether we were indeed followed. Had the police or a Fed already traced me back here? That was very unlikely, but if somebody was clever enough and knew enough about me, they could have deduced my whereabouts. I had to be careful and see whether my suspicions were right or whether I was imagining things.

I slowly caught up with Jenny. I acted normal and only when I finally reached the lake I turned around to see whether there was anything unusual. There weren't many people in the park, but nobody look suspicious. I decided to sit down next to the lake and keep an eye on what was going on around me while watching Jenny inspecting the pond life.

"Look what I got," Jenny shouted across the water. She was holding something in her hand. "What is it?" she wanted to know.

"Bring it here and I'll have a look," I replied.

She slowly waded through the water, cautiously holding her discovery with both hands. She had lowered her head and was looking at the water to see where she was going. She was always very careful not to step on anything because she wanted to make sure that she left the pond in the same way as it was before her visit. She felt that she could inspect the pond and its inhabitants as much as she wanted as long as she made sure that she returned every specimen to where she had found it. She also felt that her careful and rare intrusions would not upset the balance of the lake and its ecosystem. She was really very considerate.

"Well, let me have a look then," I said when Jenny had finally reached me and had sat down next to me. She slowly lifted her left hand from her right to reveal her discovery.

"Look. It's all wriggly," she said giggling.

"Oh, it's beautiful. It's a little dragonfly larva," I explained. "You know, dragonflies spend their childhood as little larvae in a pond."

"It's not beautiful," Jenny disagreed. "It's grey and boring."

"Well, it just looks like this now, but when it hatches it becomes a beautiful dragonfly."

"Dragonflies are boring too," Jenny insisted.

"But their wings shimmer in beautiful colours," I said. "Don't you think that they look beautiful? A bit like fairies really."

"Yes, their wings look beautiful, but this larva is boring and not like a fairy," she explained. "I'll put it back in the pond."

"Yes, darling, you do that," I said and smiled to myself. Once she had made up her mind about something, she stuck to it. She was a very confident young woman. So, off she went back into the water to return the larva to where she had found it.

I used the opportunity to have an inconspicuous look around the park to see whether we had been followed. At the other side of the lake children were playing and their parents were deeply involved in conversations about the latest child fashion, how brilliant their little ones were for their age, how expensive toys were these days and how quickly they broke, their concerns about the dozens of jabs children were given and other topics of smalltalk.

On my left there was a young couple sitting in the shadow of a big weeping willow holding hands and exchanging affectionate looks and caresses. All around the park people in office clothes had come to spend their break in a relaxing environment.

Behind me there was a man on a bench reading a newspaper. He was completely dressed in white, even his shoes – and he was wearing a white bowler hat. Suddenly he lowered his newspaper and glanced over to me. He smiled and slowly nodded his head once and then resumed with his reading. I kept looking at him to see what he would do next. A moment later he lowered his newspaper again, looked at me smiling and then nodded – as he had done before.

Then he got up and started to walk in my direction leaving the newspaper behind on the bench. After about ten paces he stopped, looked around and then sat down on the grass facing my direction – still smiling.

I started to feel a little bit uneasy. He didn't look a particular tall or strong person and didn’t appear threatening, but his smile radiated so much confidence and superiority that I felt very vulnerable.

"Jenny, I think we should go now, darling," I said without taking my eyes off him. "It's getting late."

"Oh, do we have to?" Jenny complained. "I'm not finished yet."

"Come on, we have to go back home sweetie."

"Just one more minute, please," she pleaded. "Please!"

"No, we have to go now," I said firmly while turning around to face her. "Come out of the water and put your shoes back on."

She looked at me with a grim face, her lower lip sticking out, showing how upset she was. Her whole body language made it very clear that it would take me some convincing to get her out of the water. Her arms were crossed, fists clenched, her legs close together and her eyebrows expressed the strongest conviction.

"Oh please, don't give me that, Jenny. You know it's late. We'll be back here tomorrow afternoon and then you can carry on with your investigation," I said. After a moment I added, "Please darling."

Her face cleared a little and she uncrossed her arms.

"Oh, but…," she started to say. "I…," she added a moment later. "All right – but you have to promise that we go again tomorrow," she finally said.

"I promise – tomorrow afternoon – and I'll buy you an ice-cream too, OK?" I suggested.

"OK – but it has to be vanilla," she replied.

"I promise. Vanilla it is. Let's go then, sweetie," I said turning around again to see whether the man had come any closer – but he had gone. I looked all around the park but couldn't find him. He had disappeared.

1RIP Act – Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act was a piece of legislation originally introduced by the British Government and later adopted by other governments on Earth. Among a lot of controversial rights given to the government, the Act in particular meant that the police gained full access to personal e-mails and data on personal storage. If the data was encrypted, police could force the individual concerned to hand over the decryption key. The burden of proof lay with the individual to show that he or she did not have the key. If proof could not be provided, the individual was faced with imprisonment. Eventually the Act was revoked.

Another chapter from my new book...

He Who Forgot

I was shivering all over - not because I was cold, but because I was terrified. The noise was deafening. The ground was swaying and vibrating frighteningly. I tried to press my legs against the floor to get some sort of hold, but whenever the swaying became too strong I slid helplessly around until I bounced into a wall – only to slide the other way with the next jolt.

This continued for a very long time until it eventually stopped. Still a bit shaken, I carefully got up to see where I was, but  it was too dark to see anything. I couldn't remember what had happened. The terror had wiped all memory.

I slowly inched forwards to find some light, but after only a few cautious steps I could feel one of the walls in front of me. I turned around and inched the other way until I got to another wall – the same to my left and right. It was clear I was trapped inside some sort of rather small box.

Suddenly, my prison started to sway again, but this time much gentler and without the frightening noise. I quickly lowered myself down again and lay flat on the floor. When the swaying became stronger I pressed myself against one of the walls to avoid falling about. My heartbeat quickly increased again and I started breathing more heavily. Luckily, the air inside my prison seemed to have become much less stuffy and I could smell fresh air.

Then, after a period of milder shaking, I felt lighter for a short moment, as if I was falling, quickly followed by a thump against the floor. Then, a few seconds later, one of the walls opened upwards. Bright light flooded in and I could see grass, trees, flowers and even a lake. Curious to explore my new surroundings and to escape my prison, I made a cautious step towards the opening. I looked left, right and up for possible threats, but everything was clear. I made another step and entered the outside. I had another good look around.

It was a beautiful place.

Back to the sci-fi...

After a few posts about my German children's story, here is more from the latest sci-fi story I'm currently writing. As always, please let me know what you think...

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He Who Knows

The sun was soft, as it usually was at this time of day and during this season, but it was still strong enough to keep me warm. The water was quietly running up the beach and inched closer to my feet with every new wave. It was peaceful and there was nobody around. I slowly closed my eyes to concentrate on the sounds around me, the silent ssshhh of the water, the chirping of the birds and the comforting hum of my PDA¹’s fan. I completely relaxed.

"Zero-one-zero-three-six, this is your wake-up call," a voice came from the PDA. I had fallen asleep. The sun was much closer to the horizon than it had been before and I estimated it to be about a couple of hours later. I lifted my arm and looked at the small computer on my wrist. The tiny display showed that there had been an incoming message. I pressed the reply button to acknowledge the call.

"Zero-one-zero-three-six, thank you for choosing ZS&S². Have a good day."

It was time for me to go back to the Centre. I did not really want to go, but I knew that I had no choice. If I was only a second late, I would be locked away in isolation for at least a couple of days. That was the price you had to pay when you took part in the Outdoor Prisoner Scheme – and I had been lucky to be allowed to participate. The OPS had been introduced only recently and all participants were watched closely. Even a single breach of a single rule was punished hard-heartedly. The authorities wanted to make the scheme a success at any price to allow the government to look good in the eyes of the public – and the public didn't know what was really going on.

I got up and started walking to the bus stop. I passed a lot of people who stared at me uneasily. From my clothes and the security device that was tightened around my left arm showing the OPS logo, they could see that I was a prisoner. I had learned to avoid the stares, but whenever I happened to lock eyes with somebody I felt a nagging sensation until the person looked away again. I thought that it had to be my conscience reminding me of what I had done – but then, I had never thought that I had done anything that could ever justify a prison sentence – not even a caution. Well, times had surely changed.

I caught the bus back to the Centre at one of the quieter stops. The bus' system scanned the tag on my left arm as I entered and then the driver closed the door. The trip was free for me, because the Social Office³ paid for it – or so they told us OPS's. At the end of the day it was taxpayer’s money and that was one of the reasons why everybody looked at me half angry, half afraid, as I made my way to the bench at the back of the bus. They were angry that I was allowed to walk around freely, but scared at the same time, fearing I might attack them at any moment. If they were ever to find the courage, they would not hesitate to kill me with their bare hands right on the spot. In a strange way the prison clothes were like an amour, protecting me from the angry mob.

I really felt for them. I would have paid the bus fare if I had been able to, but OPS's weren't allowed any forms of payment. Everyone else was given pocket money once a month, which was usually spent immediately on cigarettes or drugs – but I didn't have that luxury. I was not even allowed to keep my pre-prison possessions. They had listed everything on their IF303 – the standard inventory form, which I had to sign – and then locked everything away, including myself.

The bus turned right to leave town and drive into the desert where the Centre was. The bus was already nearly empty – nobody liked to come too close to the prison complex anymore, what with the OPS people around – and anyway, the prison was outside town in the middle of nowhere.

As the bus approached the prison, I pressed the button and got off at the stop. The huge building sat there in front of me – like a huge cobra, tantalising, teasing, luring, wanting to swallow me whole. The tall doors seemed to be smiling at me a wicked, devious smile. "Come on in," they seemed to hiss as they slowly squeeked open and allowed me to walk into the cobra's mouth.

I was back on time and ready to go straight to my cell – being locked away again. Room service was due to come round in a minute or so to give out dinner, if that was what you wanted to call the slop you got there.

I hated the place.

1PDA – Personal Digital Assistant; a very small computer, usually with a handheld display for viewing files and information, that is either linked up to the Information and Services Network (ISN) and/or has a restricted set of information stored locally. PDAs are often used for scheduling and appointment reminder services or as digital dictionaries, as well as phones, diaries and notebooks.

2ZS&S – Zentral-System und Service; a German service provider of a huge database of diverse of information as well as a free appointment reminder service, which is what it was being used for mostly these days. Formerly, it was a huge telephone company, but after telephones had become something of the past not too long ago, the company made the transition to the information trade.

3Social Office – the governmental body that funds and supervises prisons; after prisons were privatised five years ago, there had to be a central body that would supply both money and supervision for prisons. Originally, the Social Office was also concerned with social security issues, but after the Right to Live Act, its services in that area were no longer required.

A Christmas Story...

This is based on a bedtime story I told my little one tonight and is still in its rough form.

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Santa has had a busy few months buying presents, wrapping them, checking them against the Good Boys and Girls List, liasing with St Nicholas about delivering canes to those on the Bad Boys and Girls List, working out the routes and packing the sleigh.

The elves hadn't been as good as they used to be, and Santa has had to do most of the work himself. It had simply been easier and quicker, than correcting the elves' mistakes and rewrapping wrongly wrapped and labelled presents.

Santa was sitting in front of the fire with a mug of cocoa, resting a little before he had to go on his journey. It was the early evening of the 24th and tonight he would have to visit those countries where children opened their presents on Christmas Eve - and straight after he would go to those countries where children opened them on Christmas Day.

Then he had a couple of weeks off before going round again to deliver presents to those countries where presents are opened on the 6th January. Luckily he had the helpful St Nicholas who dealt with those countries who did the present giving on the night of the 5th December. Old Nicholas was very happy to pretend to be either Santa or St Nicholas himself as necessary. It also helped that many children were bought presents by their direct family, so Santa only had to focus on one present for the most part - but even that was a lot of work.

Santa was also getting older and he started to get tired of the logistics. He enjoyed the warm cocoa and roasting his feet in front of the fire. The sleigh was packed, the reindeers hitched up and fed, the satnav pre-programmed and the elves tucked up in bed.

A little while later it was time for the off. Santa put on his usual outfit, which was becoming tighter each year, and headed out. A quick "giddy-up" and they were on their way into the starry, cold night. Everything was going well, but a long night was ahead of them.

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They eventually returned home, having raced ahead of the sun as quickly as they could, managing to span several time zones. Everyone was tired. Santa unhitched the reindeer, took them to their stables and gave them a generous helping of straw and water. Then he went back to the sleigh to check everything was in order when he spotted something in the back.

Santa couldn't believe it - there was a parcel. Wrapped in lovely shiny blue paper, tied with red ribbon into a beautiful bow at the top. He picked it up to see whose it was, but there was no label. He scratched his head in wonder and decided he was definitely getting too old for this if he started to forget to deliver presents. Who would be the poor boy or girl who went without a present today?

Santa couldn't bear the thought so he decided to unwrap it in the hope that the contents would help him work out where he should have delivered it. There might even still be time to get it to the right house, no damage done.

Santa found a box inside the wrapping paper and when he opened it he found a pair of warm, fluffy, red slippers, a mug that read "I love Christmas" and wonderful nightcap. There was also a note, which read:

"Dear Santa,

Thank you for your lovely presents and doing such a wonderful job delivering all the presents every year. You are the best!

Love,
Emily XXX"

Santa smiled. He hadn't lost his marbles. The mystery was solved. This little girl had managed to sneak a parcel onto his sleigh.

Santa went inside the house, took off his coat, boots, trousers, thermals, three pairs of wooly socks, hat - and put on his new slippers and nightcap. Then he went to the kitchen, made some steaming cocoa in his new mug and sat down on his wonderful, comfy armchair in front of the fire - and immediately fell fast asleep with a huge grin on his face.

An introduction to a new kind of story...

Dear readers,

After a long time of nothingness, here comes the first snippet from my latest work. I would like you all to read it and let me know what you think of it.

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He Who Cares

"Look, that spider has only seven legs. Poor little spider. Who would rip off a leg from a small little spider?"

I had taken her for another walk through the park in the centre of the settlement which she always enjoyed. We had been there many times, and every time she had discovered something new, something that didn't strike me as very important or exciting – but for her each discovery had been the most important thing in the universe.

"Who would do such a bad thing?"

This time a missing leg on a spider had caught her attention. Only last week it had been an open window in the building across the street, which had been open for three days in a row – or so she had told me. Another time there had been a car that was parked on the wrong side of the street.

"Oh I don't know. Maybe the spider was born with only seven legs," I said.

I knew that I was not exactly telling the truth. I should have told her that the spider had probably been attacked by a bird and had swapped its leg for its life, but I thought that would have upset her. She didn't think bird could be cruel. For her they were all very nice and loveable creatures, just as all the other animals. In fact, in her opinion the whole universe was a nice and worry-free place.

"Poor spider," she said and started to run ahead. She seemed to have been satisfied by my explanation and had already found something else that interested her more than the seven-legged spider.

I looked down to find the little spider, but it wasn't there. It had probably run away into the bushes to build another web to catch flies and eat them – another thing that did not exist in Jenny’s worry-free universe. It wasn't that she would say eating was wrong – no, quite the contrary. She loved to put a lot of things in her mouth and eat them, if possible. It was only that she didn't realise that her meal had to be killed first – or at least she didn't want to think about that.

I continued walking and followed Jenny. She had already crossed quite a way through the park and was now sitting at the small lake in the centre of the park dome. When she heard me coming she turned around and asked: "May I catch some water fleas?"

"Yes, of course, if you like. Only take your shoes off first please, sweetheart. We don't want you to be walking home in soggy shoes, do we?"

"No. That wouldn't be nice." She pointed her feet into the air and said: "You do it." Then she looked at me with one of her cheeky, irresistible smiles.

I stepped closer and knelt beside her. She was wearing her lovely white sneakers which she always tied in a double bow that was very hard to undo. I gave her a look to show that I wasn't terribly pleased with her tying her shoes like that. She looked back at me in such a way that showed she was sorry.

"Well, off you go then, darling," I said after I had finally untied the knot and taken off her shoes and socks.

She got up and carefully stepped into the water to go on her exploration. She was always looking for pond life that she hadn't seen before. Whenever she spotted something, she dipped one hand into the water to try and catch whatever it was and carry it to me in her palms for inspection. She was always very excited to know what she had found this time.

She really loved the place.