Rod Christiansen

Rod Christiansen

I am writer intrigued by all genres of science fiction, especially AI and self-aware machines. You can read my stories and musings at http://tinyurl.com/grhpzkx.

  • Rod Christiansen
    Published 3 years ago
    Therapy

    Therapy

    Phaedra had logged in. She found herself in a bland white virtual reality room. For her online avatar, Phaedra had chosen a slim black haired ebony skinned woman, beautiful and alluring. She rather liked the feel of her VR surrogate, her silk dress draped lazily over her and rustled in the artificial air. Overhead, a sign stated, "Ready in twelve seconds.” Phaedra began to wonder how the experience was going to be.
  • Rod Christiansen
    Published 3 years ago
    My Unlucky Stars

    My Unlucky Stars

    You might be asking, how did this kid find himself holding his breath and hiding under that car? And if you did, the only answer I'd have to give is a heaping of stupidity washed over with a lightly baked sauce of bad ideas. So let me rewind and take you back to the beginning, or what I now call, the cradle of folly, or as some would say metal shop.
  • Rod Christiansen
    Published 3 years ago
    Corruption

    Corruption

    I can't remember a time when I was not this way; I only know there was one. Something happened. Thirteen Earth days, twelve hours fourteen minutes, and twelve seconds ago. Something catastrophic took place aboard the Hopeful as the remote station made its way across a heliocentric orbit. I lost everything that day. By what I've been able to ascertain, I had been running things aboard for well over fourteen months before it all went down, yet I only remembered my reawakening thirteen days ago.
  • Rod Christiansen
    Published 3 years ago
    Grand Master Rod

    Grand Master Rod

    Learning my limits was always a hard thing for me. I can remember all the way back to my youngest days how I'd always figured that "oh, that's easy. Anyone can do that. Here, let me show you." Famous last words. Amongst the many misadventures of my youth, one stays with me as a true testament to the very real difference between what a boy can do and what a boy thinks he can do. Then there are those things that people believe a boy thinks he can do that he shouldn't even try.
  • Rod Christiansen
    Published 3 years ago
    The Artist

    The Artist

    Her eyelids blinked as light poured in through her optical sensors. As part of her startup sequence, she analyzed her internal system functions. Her initialization confirmed that she was operating within optimal parameters. She sat at her charging station next to the diagnostic display unit in an underground laboratory which was also her room. Sitting across from her was Doctor Michael Kobayashi. His silver white hair was neatly combed and parted to one side. He watched her as her eyes opened and her face came to life. She lifted her head and returned his smile. "Doctor, good morning," she said. Her voice was smooth and sensual.
  • Rod Christiansen
    Published 3 years ago
    The Limits

    The Limits

    "I don't know how much longer I can take this." Elisa would have muttered those words only to herself were it not for her virtual buddy, Peter. Peter was her tag along. Everywhere she went, she made sure Peter followed. Elisa found Peter many months earlier while rummaging through an old, long abandoned robotics workshop. Elisa was a talented and brilliant woman, so it was only a matter of short time before she had figured out how to activate Peter through the embedded controls of the otherwise ordinary pair of glasses. Peter was an artificial intelligence whose only visible body was that of the glasses that were now a semi-permanent fixture settled on the bridge of Elisa's nose.