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        A HYPERCOLOR CHAOS is a mind-bending collection of allegorical short stories exploring the possibilities of science fiction. Sci-fi is not just an idea, it is a portal to other places, places where never-imagined possibilities dance with facts. The possible orbiting the real, often plausible answers to the mysteries of the next unknown waiting around each new corner we never knew was there, that's sci-fi.
        What if alien DNA was in us, and we could revert it into stem cells to grow alien life right here on Earth?
        What if the only way to connect with others on a fascist planet is by communicating through pieces of litter?
        What if a nice old farmer invented terror and sold it to the world for a nifty profit?
        A HYPERCOLOR CHAOS explores it all with 24 original stories. Modern-day sci-fi allegories by JG Cooke!


IT WAS HARD TO RECALL when the prisoners reached one hundred percent of the population on Chronos, the artificial moon of Mars.

            But, thought Keisha, the tipping point wasn’t that long ago.

            It was a slow process, transporting every prisoner from Earth to the prison moon. It had taken a generation.

            Her parents were prisoners because they’d committed crimes. Keisha, well, she was the next generation. She was a prisoner for doing nothing but being born in the wrong place.

            Chronos really is the wrong place, thought Keisha as she jumped out of the transport door in a squatting position with a parcel tube of her secret plans gripped in a hand, floating down as though in freeze frame until touching down on the surface of the moon.

            Holding the parcel tube to the chest of her suit, she leaped away in the hot wind of the transport’s engines.

            More agile in the low gee than her big suit would seem to allow, Keisha ran to the massive structure growing from the surface of the part metal, part asteroid moon.

            Keisha swiped her armband and stood in her suit, sucking in the fake air the CO2 converter made from her breath, ready to get out of it and start doing her job.

            Pressurized air blasted twice and the wide steel doors on the ‘moon center’ entrance opened.

            This led through the core of the moon, through all the prison compounds stacked and cellular like honeycombs in a bee’s nest, to the launchpads on the other side, the launchpads where she could escape.

            Keisha stepped into the lightly-illuminated chamber.

            As the second the doors closed behind her, she released herself from her suit.

            Pulling out a sheath of large papers from the parcel tube, Keisha walked lightly, the low gravity of the moon allowing her to push off with her toes and float through the round hallways, directly past the foreman’s office toward the Building & Development offices.

            ‘Wait!’ The foreman shuffled up to her, ‘You’re not cleared to go in there.’

            ‘I need higher clearance,’ Keisha said, rubbing her face as she waited for the foreman to digest her clearance request.

            The suit-air always made her skin feel sticky, grimy. By the time she got back to the penitentiary, it would be dinner, at this rate. She wouldn’t even get a shower today. And all she wanted to do was work.

            Isn’t it funny when you want to just do your job and everyone, even your coworkers, seem to be keeping you from that?

            She thought about how they- the corporations, the government, the rich and the elites- had conspired to rid Earth of billions of people ...


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