Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

I scamper up my favorite tree, casting a suspicious glance in all directions.  Anyone watching?  No?  Good!  I reach under a mess of banana leaves and withdraw a stone hammer.  Some of us monkeys have entered a Stone Age, and I’m proud to say that I, Kunt Wog, am one of them.

I start hammering away at a handful of nuts.  In a few seconds, I’m maowing down on their delicious insides.  NOMS!

“The fuck are you doing up there, Kunt?”

SHITE!  I cover my hammer and nuts under a blanket of leaves, look down, and see my mortal enemy and troop bully, UgNug, staring up at me from the base of the tree.

He cocks his head.  “Did I just see you wielding a tool?”

“So what if you did?” I shoot back.  “There’s more to us than just our instincts; I’ve been contemplating the breakdown of time and causality that would naturally occur in the infancy of our universe; if we were to realize that everything is—”

“Enough of your stupid thinking!” UgNug chops the air with his hand.  “You’ve crossed the line, Kunt!”  He scampers up the tree, grabs a branch at my height, swings twice around it, then somersaults over to where I’m sitting.  As his shadow draws long across my face, he grins maliciously.

“Well well well…what do we have here?”  He kicks aside my banana leaves.  His eyes widen…then narrow.  “You’re eating forbidden food, gathered with forbidden instruments.”  He levels a quivering finger directly at my face.  “BLASPHEMY!”

“We can’t just throw poop at each other!” I protest.  “We have to—”

He cups a hand around his mouth and bellows, “CHIMPS!  WE GOT US A THINKER!”

The brush erupts with rustling.  Hordes of idiotic, brain-dead morons quickly surround us, speckling my tree with hunched shapes.  The lead chimp, GlokFlu, cracks his knuckles and gravely intones, “Think you’re better than us, eh?”

I look from one glowering chimp to the next.  “Look guys—all I’m saying is that maybe we can stop throwing poop at each other and—”

GlokFlu holds up a hand, chuckling softly.  “Stop right there—we LIKE throwing poop.”  He looks meaningfully around, his gaze locking with his jackass buddies.  “Don’t we, fellas?”

They voice their assent with hoots and gibbers.

He turns back to me.  “So there you have it, you disgusting Poopist.  You can take your intolerant ways and fuck your mother with them.”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes.  When I open them, I gaze steadily at GlokFlu.  “I am a tool-user, like my—”

He cuts me off with an ugly sneer.  “So be it…tool-user.”

They come at me in a terrifying ripple of fur and fangs.  I snatch up my rock and start hammering chimps, bashing their frog-fucking faces (they actually do this; if you want to be simultaneously amused, shocked, and disgusted, go look on youtube), with five pounds of stone fury.  I knock a few of ’em out but it’s no use; in the end there’s too damn many.

It all goes slow-mo.  My arm rises and falls in a sluggish crawl; I’m cracking noses, mouths, and foreheads with my beloved tool.  Somewhere in the distance, I hear a choir of angels, voicing their sorrow in mournful tones.  I stumble and fall under a tangle of hands.  My eyelids droop, and their muscled silhouettes eclipse the sun.  Is this how it ends?  This can’t be how it—

Time slingshots forward, and my psyche shoots dozens of incarnations into the future, where I will be born as a badass sci fi writer named Kent Wayne.  I wrap my mental fingers around his first story, the one called Echo, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

Psionic armor sections across me, encapsulating me in a glowing hive of plating and gunnery.  Clicks and snaps sound from my form as mind-driven servos whir busily, screwing together into a concept-borne ensemble.

The chimps step back, gaping in awe, as I rise to my feet.  A glowing data-monocle snaps down over my right eye.

I casually turn my gauntleted wrists in front of my face.  “Yeah,” I say, looking from one to the other.  “There’s benefits to being a tool-user.”

“RUSH HIM!” GlokFlu snarls.

A wave of angry chimps surges toward me, intent on ripping my face off and using it as a mask.  I cross my arms in front of my chest then shoot them out, unsheathing two-foot long psi-blades from each of my forearms.  The next thing I know, I’m carving through hordes of simians, marring the air with bright splashes of arterial blood.  In a matter of seconds, they’re retreating back into the jungle.

I scan my targets through my glowing data-monocle, assessing a tidal wave of data as it floods my vision.  I contemplate pursuing them, but decide not to.  Now that I’m a psionically augmented monkey warrior, I have better things to do.

I close my eyes and flex my will, instantiating a wireframe hover-speeder directly in front of me.  I climb aboard its chassis and rev the throttle, blinking through time and space at three hundred realities per hour.

The adventures of Kunt Wog, Colobus Monkey and psi-wizard, continue!

 

Are your intellectually stunted brethren demanding that you quit expanding your mind and keep throwing poop?  Never fear!  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition  #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book

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