Mind Read 3030 A.D.

By Fluoro Schembri

3030 A.D. The world is controlled by three equal forces Zones 1, 2 and 3. All human beings carry implants in their minds that record the people’s thoughts, feelings and activities. You, the consumer of a software system that uses this data, have full access to these memories.
Zone 3: The city of New Kingston is a city driven by software manufacture and consumerism to drive the war effort against Zones 1 and 2.
Enter the Mind of hard working cop, Ben Fore’s. He’s a top class murderap cop who never fails to close a case. But things become different when he is forced to take on a partner in ace-rookie Gina Smith.
The city of New Kingston faces its biggest threat in a deranged serial killer and experienced hacker, enter the mind of The Pernicious, the one that will seek the destruction of all things that exist. Ben and Gina are called upon to stop the threat.
For the first time, explore the minds, thoughts, smells, tastes and feelings of a serial killer and his pursuers in Mind Read 3030 A.D.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9781470913960

Book preview

Mind Read 3030 A.D.

By Fluoro Schembri

Copyright © Fluoro Schembri 2023

Published by Fluoro Schembri

Fluoro Productions

YouTube: Fluoro Schembri

Email: [e-mail]

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without the prior permission of the copyright owner. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

Every effort has been made to ensure that this book is free from error or omissions. However, the Publisher, the Author, the Editor or their respective employees or agents, shall not accept responsibility for injury, loss or damage occasioned to any person acting or refraining from action as a result of material in this book whether or not such injury, loss or damage is in any way due to any negligence, act or omission, breach of duty or default on the part of the Publisher, the Author, the Editor, or their respective employees or agents.

The Author, the Publisher, the Editor, and their respective employees or agents do not accept any responsibility for the actions of any person – actions which are related in any way to information contained in this book.

Author: Fluoro Schembri

Editor: Fluoro Schembri

Design: Fluoro Schembri

For the will the finish the project.

///You have selected subject files Gina Smith, Ben Fores, The Pernicious/// ///Preview mode activated///

File subject: Ben Fores.

I’m falling. Damn!

Happening again, tripped up by my own target. Foiled by the one I’m supposed to be pushing off the rooftop of a two-storey building. For seconds that seem like hours, I float through the air. I wonder if there’s any broken glass on the ground that I might cut myself on. Air flowing through my hair, slaps into my face, pupils sting with the brush of each bristle’s sharp fresh cut edge. Hands, they’re unable to hold my hair back from the intrusion to my eyes. Hands, stretching out, below me, searching for something to hold onto; there is nothing there. Hands, now waiting to be re- introduced to the ground.

I see my target above, peering over the edge, watching me fall. The stinking killer’s harsh wrinkled face contorts in a way that mimics a smile. Of course, pure evil can never truly be happy, even when witnessing its enemy’s demise. Hope I don’t get killed by this fall. Hope I live to see this target again, to punish him for his nasty ways. Mostly I hope to see this mutorat die.

Still falling.

Focus, Ben! You’re about to hit the ground. Pain is nothing but an electrical message sent to the brain. Pain, electrical impulses going through axon after axon, towards the brain, and the implant. Remember your training!

Protect the implant above the brain; the brain is worthless without the implant.

Impact! I bounce on the alleyway’s hard concrete ground. Blood droplets fall around my body as I land on my back.

Fuck! That hurts.

I think something broke my fall though. Remember, pain is not real. I just have to lie here for a minute; my body is in shock and needs time to reboot.

Huddling in the foetal position, I wish I were back in my mother’s womb – safe, protected, encased in sweet embryonic fluid, where no pain and no enemy exist. Pain signals knock at the door of my brain, they’re bursting to get inside my conscious mind, striving to pry their way in and make me lose control. I must fight these signals; right now I don’t have the luxury of licking my wounds. My life is, at this very moment, in serious danger. That psycho fuck is out there, unchained and free to impose his will on his biggest enemy – that’s me – he’s going to kill me if I don’t get up soon. And when I get up I have to be ready for action, regardless of what the sudden stop at the end of my fall has done to my body.

My situation might sound scary to you, but life is easier on the edge, nothing to cling to, nothing to think about and nothing to brood over.

Ok, open your eyes, Ben. I can see; that’s good. My target! He’s coming straight for me! How did he get down here so quickly? No time to figure this out now. Move!

Ben, get up! Here he comes. Spin! Turn on the fucker! Left leg, Sweep! Yes! Got the little fucker!

He’s slowly getting up, but he’s dazed and confused. This’ll be easy, finishing him off. This is it. I’ll rip this guys head off!

Ahhhhhh! My leg! My leg! That’s my bone sticking out of the skin! Blood, blood coming from my head! I – think – I’m – gonna – pass – out.

///End preview mode///

///Presentation///

You’ve heard about it in Technology forums and future presentations.

You’ve waited for final legal negotiations to come to an end.

On March 16, 4298 The United Nations Universal court decided to finally give to the world, access to millions of old world criminal files.

Now you can finally experience real police files of criminals and officers’ firsthand accounts of real cases in many old world eras. The file information is taken directly from the cybernetic brain implants of criminals and their police pursuers. The Information is now presented to you in story format. It’s a surprisingly elegant way to enjoy our extensive files.

Imagine reading firsthand accounts of actual events from the man who pulled the trigger, the woman who poisoned the water, the hunter-cop who saves the day and catches the criminal and the victim who gets caught by the killer.

The final tweaks have been made. It’s time to unveil:

– The Nalcom D-5674 system –

The Nalcom D-5674 system gives you access to real time human thought. You can access a vast array of thoughts, emotions and stories from millions of deceased witnesses and criminals.

The system gives you background history whilst accessing files. This function gives you relevant information on your subject’s era including various geographical, political and environmental data and also explains the colloquial vernacular of your subject’s time in history.

The system gives you a description of the subject’s surroundings using their visual, kinaesthetic, audio and olfactory memories - please be sure to read all footnotes provided - In many cases this information is vital to fully understanding your

subject/s.

The system also includes news reports and advertisements to give you a better feel of the time. Now more than ever, you’ll be able to go deeper into the mind of your subject.

There are literally thousands of tweaks, upgrades and portals, which can be purchased for your new device. Please visit our Headsite to experience real time examples of these many

applications. Just simply say the words, Nalcom upgrades and your own cybernetic implant will automatically log onto the site.

Nalcom Pty Ltd would like to thank you for reading this presentation. We hope you will understand the value of our product and will follow the appropriate measures to ensure our association with you. Please purchase this software immediately.

///You have purchased The Nalcom D-5674 system///

///History Background function selected///

Geography:

Subjects selected dwell in the city of New Kingston located in Zone two. In this era the world is divided into three zones of equal geographical size, all are at war with each other. These zones have two separations of class – the city population are very wealthy and enjoy all the benefits of modern society, the people who live in rural areas, endure poor conditions; they are forced to work in food plantation farms. The borders of these zones are marked with giant holographic walls stretching for kilometres across the globe. It is forbidden to cross these borders. This law is enforced with a punishment of execution. It is also forbidden to go within half a kilometre of these borders, and citizens of all zones are encouraged to ignore the walls and are discouraged from looking at them.

Nothing significant differs between the three zones – they are in constant motion of production and consumption, delivery and destruction.

Curious as the people of New Kingston may be about the outside world, the people are told that they are simply superior to everything else, thus promoting disinterest in the outside world.

This city was originally built on land next to a harbor, but as rising water levels covered this land, the city was built above sea level, supported by massive Magmastilts.

Holes are drilled into the seabed and measured amounts magma is allowed to cool on the seabed until a pillar is formed.

The city was famous for its vast entertainment districts. These districts were well known for their seedy elements. It is estimated that the city at one point employed over one million active robotic prostitutes.

Industry:

The city of New Kingston was a city mainly driven by the production of software. The area was firstly called Sydney of the former twenty-first century country of Australia. The rural dwelling farmers supply the entire zone with food and other raw resources.

Environment:

Air pollution in the area exceed healthy levels. All people of New Kingston had nasal implants designed to filter out air toxins. Air sucked through giant towers, reaching above the thick pollution layer, was pumped into the city’s vast buildings to improve indoor air quality. Huge lighting poles were erected to improve outdoor light in the city.

The people of New Kingston in 3030 A.D. believed the city to be completely free of pests and vermin. This was mostly due  the city task force of two million Controlbotsi.

The water surrounding and underneath the floating city is highly polluted due to the decision in 2980 to pump raw sewerage from the city directly into the water below. Leaders of the time reasoned that the only group this pollution would affect were a small amount of Zen-fisherman. The fishing minority protested against the decision on the streets but it was decided that this group had broken sedition laws of the time and were executed immediately.

Massive skyscrapers made from metal dominated the landscape of the city. In the great mass suicides of 2090 – over two million died – it was discovered that the lack of natural surroundings caused mass depression and hysteria. This motivated the leaders of the time to build a public area designed in the image of Central Park from an ancient city called New York. Ever since the creation of New Central Park it became compulsory for citizens of the city to spend at least thirty minutes per week at the park.

In 3030 A.D. giant holographic representations advertised on the corner of every street. The holographs stood a kilometre high and advertised everything from new software technologies to feminine hygiene products. Most of the population took no notice of these giant holographic ads, only occasionally looking at them to break their vision of the constant metal towers.

Political:

The city of New Kingston, as in all of zones one, two and three, were run by a political system called Technocracy, a system where a new political party was chosen every two weeks through referendum. Voters are given three choices between Parties A, Party B and Party C. Only city dwellers are allowed to vote. All parties have exactly the same agendas and shared the same beliefs, except the wordings of their agendas were changed slightly in order to appear different to the voter.

The system is a deliberate attempt to confuse the voter into thinking they had a choice in who was ruling over them.

It is the constant central theme of every party to encourage and incite its population to strive to win the Great War against both opposing zones and become the eventual dominators of the world. The population was taught not to hate zones one and three but merely to feel sorry for them. It was the key principal of government to proliferate the idea that neighbouring zones were inferior and needed to be shown the error of their ways. The war machine is a constant grinding effort that all citizens are a part of, with efficiency being the key performance indicator of how well each component of society is doing.

The city dwellers are kept far away from the elements of war. It was not the responsibility of this group of the population to fight in the Great War; rather, it was their responsibility to improve the technology of the Great War machine.

A city dweller was born a city dweller. It was very rare for the rural dweller to cross over into the higher status of, City Dweller. This was only achieved if a rural dweller betrayed his/her rural communities and exposed them for any illegal activity.

Crime and Punishment:

Rural:

The law in the rural areas are governed by soldiers recruited from these areas and brainwashed into thinking that they were somehow superior to their farming community. These law enforcement agents were often over-zealous in their pursuit of a criminal. In an attempt to reduce population levels it was deemed that all committers of serious crimes, such as murder, sedition and theft, were punished by death. Over time, the classification of what crimes were deemed to be serious became grey and faded.

City:

City dwellers have a user pays system. Once an agreement has been made, a specially trained policeman was given a case. Most cases were solved, but if they were not, the customer was refunded his or her money in full. The punishment of death was only applied to the crime of murder and sedition. Most other punishments for other crimes involved a loss of privileges or voluntary brainwashing.

///File subject: Ben Fores ///

My name is Ben Fores. I have lived in the city of New Kingston ever since I came here as a young dribbler. This city is a lot different since then. I’m a lot different than I was when I witnessed the gigantic city up close for the first time; this was when I was a boy – afraid and alone, confused by a world broken in two places.

I am now a police officer, but really, us police officers are more like bounty hunters. The government gives me a target and pays me to track that target down and exterminate him, her or, sometimes, it. I’m not like the real policemen of the past, no, I certainly am fucking not! A real officer of the law stops what he is doing if he sees a random mugging in the street and chases after the mugger, apprehending him and saving the day. No, the government doesn’t want me to give my services away for free. Justice for those willing to pay for it is their stinking motto, and their report droidsii won’t even come to your house to take down your complaint unless you pay the dirty shitbots a minimum two hundred Z’s Appointment fee.

I once had faith in the so called, law keeping industry, back when I was young, back when I was seduced by the state with its promise of everlasting happiness in the acquisition of possessions.

I was enticed by the endless catalogues of meaningless garbage meant to fill the void inside me. "Buy the new oral stimulator, brushes your teeth ten point five seconds faster then the old model, but wait, there’s more! The oral stimulator now comes in a variety of five new exciting and fashionable colours!

Your friends will love you more if you buy the new Oral stimulator. For that materialistically sated smile!"

There are millions of people crammed into this dank and polluted city, they are all hollow and they all have the one goal – to fill the void within, to fill the hole with anything they can get their hands on. Sure, every person cares about the war effort, every person wants to see Zone Two win the war, to crush Zone One and Zone Three with Zone Two’s superiority, and save those poor miserable sods from their disgusting mutant existence. However, what really lies behind all that lust for victory is a heart that pumps air, not blood, an empty soulless shell craving to be fed more and more materials to consume and place around themselves, to prove they are whole, to prove they are better than that guy with the greasy hair living on the other side of the hallway. They are nothing; I am nothing. We are nothing but non-descript water molecules collecting into a puddle, a puddle that is this city, which is the dilemma. How can we believe we are special when quite simply we are not?

Sometimes I think, maybe we, the swarming consuming masses, feather our nests with mind numbingly useless materials in order to gather them as icons – icons that prove we are better than the rural dwellers. But unlike ninety nine percent of the population of this city, I have seen the dirt pushers. I hated them so much when I was young, but now, for all our pomp and wealth, we are no better than them.

I once met a black market software salesman named Hal who lived in an apartment overlooking New Central Park. He had a few connections and was willing to find out some details on a target I was

chasing at the time. Hal had a lot of Zs, but his apartment was not cluttered with thousands of trinkets and household items designed to fill the void. You see, Hal filled the void with a magnificent collection of magnetized moneyswipe cardsiii.

Hal had spent millions of Zs on his collection and stored it with painstaking effort in a vault hidden in his apartment. He spoke with pride of his collection and boasted that

he was the number two ranking greatest Moneyswipe card collector of all time.

What a dribbler! I remember how he would rant on and on about how much he hated his main rival: Victor Von Lanceston from sector 4B, the number one ranking collector of Moneyswipe cards. The main reason Victor had trumped him in his ranking was that Mr Von Lanceston seemed to be the only man in possession of the world renowned 3015 Albino Zebra Moneyswipe card. It was dubbed the Albino Zebra as it was the only printed Zebra Moneyswipe card not to have its distinct black and white stripes – the card was only white with the word Zebra printed on the bottom right corner. It was rumoured that the Moneyswipe machine that made the cards, had a temporary bubble in its ink line. When the card was reported back to the company from its new owner to be without its stripes, five workers from quality control in the company’s rural factory were instantly executed for their incompetence. What a way to go, hey? Killed because some shitty Moneyswipe card didn’t look like an animal that had been extinct for over a thousand years.

Anyway, back to the story, Hal would go on and on about that card for ages – how rare it was, how beautiful it was said to be. It was as if Hal existed solely to possess this elusive card.

Months later I was questioned by a fellow police officer who had been assigned the case to track down Hal. Apparently he had gone catatonic over not having the card, and after his two hundredth call to Mr Von Lanceston demanding he sell the card to him immediately, he had decided to march down to sector 4B and ask Mr Von Lanceston in person – with a Canon Phaseriv pointed to his head.

Unfortunately for both parties, Mr Von Lanceston was just as insanely possessive over the Albino Zebra Moneyswipe card as Hal wanted to be, thus, a stalemate ensued. It seemed that Mr Von Lanceston had installed an incineration unit within the confines of his own Moneyswipe storing vault.

Rather then relinquish his title as the number one Moneyswipe card collector of all time, he had pushed the button to incinerate the Albino Zebra card and his entire collection moments before Hal unleashed the power of the sun onto Mr Von Lanceston’s fat grotesque face.

Later that month I caught up with the fellow police officer again, who had further news on his target in Hal. Hal had been found crushed between two printing presses at the same Moneyswipe factory that had produced the Albino Zebra card. He had tried to reprint the card with its same distinctive lack of stripes.

It seemed that he had been driven mad by his urge to possess the card. It had driven him thus far and had ended up driving him insane. I know what you’re thinking – what a fuck head to be so obsessed with the acquisition of such a boring mundane object. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and in a world gone mad with consumerism, anything, literally anything, can be viewed as the prize.

I think about poor Hal a lot nowadays. He was so vibrant, such a talented man, he could have done anything he wanted with his life, yet he chose to drive himself into the ground just to hold a flimsy magnetised rectangular shaped object. I could have taken him by the shoulders and shaken him vigorously. "Are you out of your fucking mind Hal? This shit you’re carrying on about is meaningless. Just because Mr Von Lanceston has a stupid stinking card that you don’t have, doesn’t mean he is any better than you. He is just a fat slug with a little less room in his

Moneyswipe vault than you have! Who really gives a fuck? Wake up to yourself, Hal, and smell the syntho coffee. But I didn’t say this to Hal, and it kills me. Why do people have to go and get me all fucked up inside? I mean it’s not like I have invited them into my head and said, Hey fuck on my couch and jizz all over the place, and don’t bother cleaning it all up!

My fellow police officer partner, Gina, can’t understand why I get so fucked up over the demise of the characters I meet throughout our work as glorified bounty hunters.

Gina is a good young dribbler whose feet are firmly planted on the platform. Even though I’d prefer to work alone, I couldn’t think of anybody better to do this work with than her.

I gave her hell when the department forced me to work with a partner a few years ago.

The Bossman said I was getting too unstable and erratic. And besides, he said, you’re one of our best. It would be a damn shame to waste all the know-how you’ve built up over the years and not have a rooky learn it from you before some Freeze Headv finally jacks you in the gut with a shivey and puts an end to your sad existence. The Bossman has a real way with words.

Gina slugged me in the face on her first day working with me. Man I was so uptight back then. I didn’t want a partner to hold me back, to stop me from hunting down my next target. I told her she would never cut it as my partner, not unless she spontaneously grew herself a huge set of testicles. And that’s one thing you never do to Gina, try and make out she is any less a cop because of her gender.

After she smacked me I turned to her and apologised. It must have been a sincere looking apology because I saw a little tear in the corner of her eye. We had a syntho together and she asked me endless questions on my experience as a cop. Gina loves to hear about all my old crime solving stories, once, I told her to wait until I was dead, she could read the files from my implant. But Gina didn’t like this; she went a little bit pale and looked sad.

Ever since the day she hit me, I have given her, and will always give her, the respect that she deserves. She is a hunter, just like me.

We hunt by day and rest and night. We don’t take shit from anybody and we always get our target – always!

I didn’t always do murder cases. It takes years of experience to get up to the level I am at now. The murderaps are the highest Z spinning gigs in town, so every cop wants to get assigned to one, not that