SAMPLE CHAPTERThe Lebensborn Virusa novel by J. Carlton RossThey're At It Again!It's The Same Idea That Threatened The World Decades Ago Only This Time With Modern Technology!
Prod#002 $9.00US SF/Action/Adventure |
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"Ach so, let me take this opportunity to express my sincere apologies." The Professor (alias: the notorious Interfuser) drops his eyes momentarily onto the paperwork he holds in his plump lap, before raising them again, speaking to camera angle. (Billy and Reggie's attention is fixed on the small screen) "As I planned dis program mit the event of my arrest or demise in mind, and therefore am unable to determine the viewers motives, I feel I must nevertheless apologize beforehand if I seem to be rehashing any prior knowledge you may have of the sensitive material herein contained." "Please, if you vill," The professor's face lowers, "indulge me or if you are a mind to, you may forward dis segment to number two thousand
fifty-six on the counter. It is your predilection to do so. Otherwise, it will be necessary for others to first hear a small presentation of explanation in order to follow the later segments of dis disc and the others in dis series, I can only presume are in your possession." "With dat little matter out of the way, I shall endeavor to proceed." Ambling toward the end of the conference table to a high stool, the Interfuser perches upon its fat cushion looking uncannily like a rather rotund, overly talkative myna bird; the tails of his lab coat billowing in the breeze of an overactive air conditioner. In the background looms an enormous chalkboard of green slate. To its side, stands two oversize world maps. Reaching for a well worn,
ivory-handled pointer, the Professor appears ready to resume his lecture. Disgusted, Reggie turns off the monitor. "I've had about enough of that ole peckerwood. Billy, these racists are a sick lot…my advice is to burn this rot." "But Reggie," Billy protests, "This guy was a Professor at Columbia University. Who knows what we may learn? We might be able to use one of his viruses. He's famous for them. And remember…he was never caught." "Nothing that ole Hun has to say could be of any interest, let alone use to me. I'm surprised at you Billy…don't you realize these people were responsible for untold misery?" "They were also responsible for the advent of guided missiles, jet aircraft,
U-boats, the Volkswagen, the first experiments with Genetics and, don't forget they very nearly conquered the entire globe." Reggie sits back in his chair, eyes wide with disbelief. "You young people can't imagine the horrors these people caused. I know it's been nearly a hundred years…but…you…you respect this perverse heritage?" "Of course not Reggie," Billy counters, naive in his youth, "but, neither am I afraid of it. Censorship was their failing, not mine. I believe I'm mature enough to choose whether or not to listen. Allow me to be the judge of what I term usable and what I choose to disregard." "I…I'm sorry, Billy," Reggie stutters, ashamed of his prior outburst, "when you put it in that light…I suppose, I would have to agree. Some of these people do possess superb intellects. Too bad they waste it spewing such putrid doctrine." "Oddly," Billy chuckles. "Hell, I think the ole coot's funny." Billy mimics the Professors facial tics and eccentric mannerisms. "Come on Reggie, let's give it a
listen…what'a ya say?" "He's funny alright. Funny as a
hover-rail wreck." "Reggie, the man's some kind of genius." "Little Bro, for your information, Genius is highly overrated. Intellect is not genius but the functional opposite. Intelligence is rationale, dissection. Genius however, is creativity. One counts the stars, the other imagines other worlds." "Imagination rules the World' is how Napoleon put it," Billy interjects.
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