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| Sci-Shorts-300 Science-Fiction Short-Stories The Master Projector Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Epilogue |
The
Master Projector
Nick Zentor Chapter One LA, CA, 1984: Victor Kosgrove awoke on the beach, shortly after sunrise, with a hangover. He forgot where he was and tried to recall the night before. He was at a party with lots of his friends and associates. It was the summer solstice celebration, held at someone’s seaside estate. Who’s? He couldn’t remember. There had been plenty of booze, pretty girls, and even a little coke. He had made friends with a sexy blonde with great breasts and thighs. They and a few other couples had all carried their drinks outside, onto the beach. After bulling and joking around for about ten minutes, the couples began wandering off for some private foreplay. The sexy blonde led him off along the beach to a secluded spot beside a bramble bush. They fooled about, had sex... and that’s all he could recall. Apparently, after the sex, he’d passed out to sleep, but... how’d he get here? He looked all about. The beach was one of those expansive public parks, a great, wide stretch of sand leading for hundreds of meters in both directions. It was at least 50 meters wide, from the sea to the parking lot, and there were stone-lined pits, for fires and cook-outs, sparsely scattered about. In the parking lot, set apart equally by about 100 meters, were moderately sized one and two-level square, stone structures, apparently containing showers, toilets, locker-rooms, and refreshment stands or restaurants. Now he recalled. It was Huntington Beach, of course, but still, how did he get from the private cove where he was late night to Huntington Beach, which was at least a kilometer away? He couldn’t recall. Had he sleep-walked all the way along the seaside last night? Funny, he’d never been known to sleepwalk be fore, but how else could he explain it? He continued to look about and slowly got to his feet. The sand was fine, thick, and deep, not like the coarse stuff had been at the cove. He brushed his clothes off and checked for his wallet inside his jacket’s inner pocket. Luckily, it was still there. He didn’t need to lose that. He suddenly noticed something peculiar that hadn’t phased him earlier. The area was completely deserted. He checked the time. It was just before 7 am. Perhaps it was too early but..., no, something didn’t seem right. There hadn’t been any vehicles on the coastal highway on the other side of the parking lot, not a single vehicle had passed since he had awakened. That was strange. He looked into the distance in every direction and saw nothing moving whatsoever, not even a bird. No people, no vehicles, no birds or other animals. How could it all be so lifeless and deserted? Perhaps, he decided, it was just one of those peculiar coincidental circumstances. In another hour, the world would begin to wake up. It just takes time. Perhaps more people had hangovers from the summer solstice parties than he expected. He walked to the back of the beach, to the parking lot, followed the sidewalk along the short stone wall, and reached one of the structures. Outside, on the veranda, were picnic tables. He sat down to gather his bearings. He checked the time and looked southward, then north. Huntington Beach was actually closer to his company office and the refinery than his home, so he decided to walk to his office. There he could get a company car and he’d be back in business. He got a drink from one of the public water fountains, took a few headache pills, and started walking along the beach southward. Thirty minutes later, he reached the edge of the oil-refinery and stopped. It was strange, very strange indeed. He still had seen absolutely no one, not a single soul, animal, or moving vehicle. Why was it all so dead? He turned inland and began walking along the main road through the refinery. He passed over a bridge, stopped again, and looked out across the facility. There were a few refinery vehicles parked about the great, metal vats and it looked odd, as if the personnel had just suddenly dropped everything in the middle of the shift and abandoned it. There were hoses and tools lying about, bits of piping scattered about randomly, even a door left open to the cab of a truck. But where were the people? He thought about it and decided they simply had been careless about it, probably overly anxious to leave the plant and get to a party or something. That sort of carelessness, he decided, was inexcusable. Most of that stuff was company property. As CEO of the L.A. division, Kosgrove made it a point to penalize such careless workers. He shook his head with disapproval and walked on. It was all so strange, he thought in reflection, as he gazed about at the vast oil refinery facilities. This was a perspective upon it all that he’d never seen before. Was it always so dead and still at this time of the morning? He was reassured to hear the ‘hissing’ of gas-pipes in the near-distance. At least some thing was functioning normally. He walked on, realizing as he did so that he’d never quite known the industrial zone to be so vast. It was as if he was smaller than he’d ever been before, on his legs for a change, rather than in a motor vehicle buzzing about it at a higher speed. He was reminded of Einstein’s observations that led to his theory of relativity. For the first time in his life, he seemed to understand just what Einstein had been observing. It was as if his walking perspective had a completely different life, apart from his riding perspective. After walking for another 30 minutes, with still no sign of life, he finally reached the gate that led through the fence to the building that contained his field-office. But the gate was locked and there was no keeper at the gatehouse. He tapped his code into the console, but the gate remained shut, without response. He tried again twice, without result, and called through the intercom unit. No one answered. He looked at the gate and the fence. It was almost 4 meters high and had barbed-wire at the top. He had to get inside, but climbing the tall fence looked quite difficult. There had to be an easier way. Where the hell was everyone? He became frustrated. What the hell was going on? |
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| Copyright 4/2007 by Nick Zentor |