This is a 10-tweet relay story that @FloorKist_SciFi and I wrote.

Enjoy!

There is a sad joke about a man who visits the doctor. He says he’s terribly sad. The doctor suggests he go to the circus: ‘”Mancini the Clown is the funniest guy ever. He’s sure to brighten your day!” The sad man looks at the doctor and replies: “I am Mancini the Clown.”

For Marisa, this was the reason to start her research on ‘kindness’. Why are people kind? Does kindness matter? And why does it matter?

She already wrote a paper on the ‘negativity bias’ that makes people remember negative events and feelings more acutely than positive ones.

This leads to a ‘kindness gap’ where people underestimate how much others enjoy our company.

In her study she already discovered that participants consistently misjudge how much their conversation partners liked them. Surveys after each chat, long or short, showed this gap.

Once she showed the participants her results, they were astonished.

A paper found that being kind to others also improves our own well-being. So, why don’t we act in ways that make us feel better? Apparently, people don’t often recognize the power of those acts on others.

Instead, people tend to focus on the value of the thing they’re giving, say a cup of coffee.

Where at Christmas, “It’s the thought that counts” means you didn’t like the present, in kindness it truly is the act itself that matters: a thank-you mail or a compliment on shoes.

Another example Marisa found is power of the surprise. When checking in with a friend with a text, for example, the recipients are happy someone is thinking about them. The reason people hesitate sending them is because they don’t want to impose or create an obligation.

Then again no one criticizes a kind text they weren’t expecting. Marisa’s research has already helped her be less self-conscious. She’s stopped assuming people won’t accept her. Instead, she now accepts others more readily, and notices that works both ways. No surprise there!

In the movie “A Fish Called Wanda” the main character explains what it’s like to be English: “Being so correct all the time? Being so stifled by this dread of doing the wrong thing?”

Don’t let negativity bias stop you showing you care for others with small, kind gestures.

Thanks for reading!

This is a 10-tweet relay story that @FloorKist_SciFi and I wrote.

Enjoy!

The virtual suit fit snugly, like a diver’s wet suit. Clarice was looking for a cheap alternative to her Himalayan retreat (way too expensive!), and her Scottish highlands getaway (the pound is so high!). “Very Real” virtual reality offered an ‘out-of-this-world’ experience.

For her work in precision machinery, her company had been using augmented reality to help her detect faulty parts and support to repair them. But she had never been a ‘VR Voyager’ before. Very Real made everything sound, look and feel like a real trip, without the passport.

They called the VR room ‘The Boat’. It reminded her of a holodeck from Star Trek. After wearing the cap with built in inter-reflective glasses, she expected the theme song to start. Instead, she almost tripped. She was standing on a iron beam between two edges of a ravine.

A calm voice instructed her to calibrate her bearings. “Look up, look down, look left, look right,” just like in a video game. Then it told her to walk to the other edge of the ravine. That took some doing. She was reminded of Indiana Jones’ leap of faith in The Last Crusade.

Her armpits were moist when she reached the other side… Well, a little bit more than that, actually. Clarice hadn’t known what to expect. The only thought she had was that she needed to reset her head. That was exactly what the Voyage had promised her. Way cool immersion.

“Please stay still and remain calm.” Clarice gasped as the Boat started to fill with water. Then she held her breath as it rose over her head. Why is it that when someone tells you to remain calm, the opposite happens? She opened her eyes to sun beams illuminating the ocean.

Sparkling fish swam around her. Through the VR glove her hand felt cold and wet. “You can move now.” Wow, something seemed to push her back. The virtual water had resistance. Even her arms moved in slow-motion. Clarice had always wanted to try the neural suit in Fallout 3.

She hiked in the mountains during sunrise, looked at the planet Earth from the surface of Mars. Dancers performed around her, animals ran by her. She traveled on a meteorite. When she finished, she didn’t have a care in the world. Eternity made all her concerns seem small.

Thanks for reading!

This is a 10-tweet relay story that @FloorKist_SciFi and I wrote.

Enjoy!

Dog lovers all over the world complain about the use of a cat by Erwin Schrödinger in his famous experiment.

“Cats are getting way too uppity,” according to dog owner John Bull, “they don’t need the extra attention—even if one of them is ah… deceased. Dog’s are a man’s best friend.”

The Schrödinger’s Dog Movement follows in a long standing debate about dogs and cats: which one has been with living with humans the longest?

“Whiny cat owners constantly suggest that in ancient Egypt, cats were held in high regard—even associated with gods,” Bull says disgusted.

“It’s a well known scientific fact that cats live longer than dogs,” says Felicia Silvester, chairperson for the League for the Preservation of Schrödinger’s Cat Paradox (LPSC). “The symbolism is evident! The cat’s death has more impact because it happens early in her life.”

Leo Tigris, founder of Conservation of Cat Facts disagrees. “To begin with, the cat was a black male called ‘Salem’. The symbolism isn’t in the early death, but in the name: the town in Massachusetts known for its witch trials. Schrödinger was taking a stand against colonialism. Just like burning witches, killing cats is bad!” Mr. Tigris thumps his fist on the table for emphasis.

Mr. Bull laughs out loud at these assertions. “Typical! Some people always introduce a ‘colonialism-is-bad’ angle into any debate. What matters is that dogs come from wolves.”

“They are fierce animals man has domesticated. Schrödinger’s robbing us of our righteous place at the top of the pyramid by working with a cat.” Mr. Bull shrugs. “Besides, everyone knows it’s impossible to grab a cat and try to put it in a box. They wriggle out of your hands.”

“That shows how much a dog-owner knows about cats!” Ms. Silvester rolls her eyes. “Schrödinger only had to drop the box anywhere and the cat would gladly and willingly get in all by itself. That proves the experiment could only have succeeded by using a cat and not a dog.”

Mr. Tigris concurs. “Besides, they didn’t have cardboard boxes big enough for dogs, anyway.”

Ms. Silvester corrects him because the box was made of wood and not cardboard. “They didn’t have that in the early twentieth century.”

“Well, that proves my point exactly!” says Mr. Bull.

“Why build a big wooden box if you only want to put a tiny kitty in there? It’s also well-known that dogs are fiercely loyal. Only a dog would step into a box knowing it might die there.”

“Wrong!” Mr. Tigris lifts his arm in despair. “Cats go into boxes when they feel sick.”

“So, the experiment was on a sick cat? What kind of unethical scientist was Schrödinger anyway?” Mr. Bull crosses his arms.

Ms. Silvester wonders. “Cats believe that they own their humans. That would mean that if there was anything was in that box, it would be Schrödinger.”

Thanks for reading!

This is a 10-tweet relay story that @FloorKist_SciFi and I wrote.
Enjoy!

The vixy’s fur feels luxurious on her skin. This is what she will wear from now on. The Treasure of Monte Verso is her last adventure. Annie Foyle is ready to retire as a wealthy lady. If she can survive, that is. Norris and Crowley are already turning the crew against her.

The only reason, Captain Annie is still alive is because she memorized the location of the treasure. It helps that Brown the navigator is on her side. Davy, the cabin boy, too. She isn’t too sure about Craig the quartermaster. He serves a captain faithfully until he doesn’t.

The airship flies over Beckett Ridge. Annie gives Brown the location, then she instructs her pilot to find a clearing.”Props off! Mooring lines out!” Craig orders. He gives Annie a quick glance.

She recognizes a greedy flash when she sees one. Norris and Crowley bought him.

Annie doesn’t mind the dying. It’s what they will do to her before that. She never slept with any of her crew. Although, she considered it with Davy, the day he turned 18. But it always ends in jealousies, fights and loss of respect. But some men will want what’s theirs now.

The Monte Versos fled from the Berger Inquisition. They hid their wealth away before getting caught and burned at the stake. No amount of torture got them to divulge its location. Davy found the first clue while practicing reading on an inventory of the family’s wealth.

He knew the Beckett Ridge was inhospitable. So, why would Monte Verso own a cabin there? Small and built with logs. Annie and her men approach it now. This is where the treasure map ends. She has no idea how to proceed. If Norris or Crowley find out, Annie is a good as dead.

“Be extremely careful here, men. There may be traps out here. We’re looking for the entrance to an underground vault or cave.”

Just as she expected, Crowley elbows her aside. He will show ‘his’ crew how it’s done. Sooner than she hoped, he drops through a fake bed of leaves.

Annie doesn’t need to see him to know he’s dead. Norris squints. He takes Davy by the arm and pushes him in front of him.

“The runt goes first. Captain, you better make sure he discovers the traps in time.”

“Who will you take after Davy dies, Norris?” Annie holds his gaze.

“Brown? Nah, you need a navigator to take the treasure home. Craig? Sure, he’s quartermaster, but anyone else can do his job. How many will you let die?”

Craig’s bead of sweat tells her he’s ready to jump back to her side again. Jaw tight, the men await Norris’ answer.

Norris squints. Then, his eyes pop open when the captain pushes her cutlass straight through his heart. She pushes him aside.

“Let’s go men!” Captain Annie Foyle leads her men to the famed Monte Verso treasure.

Dressed in her fine vixy furs, Annie loves to tell this story.

Thanks for reading!

This is a 8-tweet relay story that @FloorKist_SciFi and I wrote.
Enjoy!

Lomberg’s great-grandson inherited his Golden Record with the message for alien cultures that Voyagers 1 + 2 carried into space. Not only the gold, but it’s significance weighed upon him. At seventeen, he wondered if he would ever be able to live up to his family’s legacy?

Just before his 18th birthday, Duke hoped to find answers about his future by looking at the stars. The telescope he used was his uncle’s. One of the stars winked at him. He adjusted the focus. It did so again, making his passions struggle with his pragmatic expectations.

He packed his stuff and went home. Sleep wouldn’t find him easily that night. Instead, the Golden Record stared at him. A car passing flashed it’s lights on it. Duke grimaced because now the record winked at him as well. “Happy birthday,” he mumbled when the clock struck 3.

He must have fallen asleep, because he woke up. His head was in someone’s lap. She was sitting in a cozy living room with a glowing fireplace and tussled his hair with elegant fingers. Duke was surprised of course, but somehow the setting was soothing. Her loving smile shone.

He’d seen her before, just a few days ago, at the mall. Her dark eyes, black curls, red lips made him stare. She didn’t smile, but her gaze told him she didn’t mind. About the same age, self-assured, and at peace. More than her beauty, that spoke to him. How was she here?

“Crossroads,” she whispered, “the first of many. Some will be easy, some won’t. It’s not because you’re an adult now that you have to point your life in a certain direction, but simply because it’s the next step.” “I’m scared,” he confessed. “Of course, you are, but why?”

“I want people to be proud of me. I want to become someone who matters, who means something to the world.” “Why wouldn’t you?” That was a fair question, but it surprised him anyway. All his fears, wonders, and wishes jumbled out. Perspiration covered his forehead. She smiled.

Your richness are your own choices and the paths you follow. The Golden Record brags about the beauty of Earth, mathematics, physics, chemistry, music, paintings, sculptures, literature. The possibilities are yours, and your great-grandfather would support any choice you make.

This is a 8-tweet relay story that @FloorKist_SciFi and I wrote.
Enjoy!

Assassin Droid

“Softy, softy, catchy monkey,” the police commissioner Balfort said to the security minister. They had received intelligence that an assassin droid was targeting the emperor. Balfort was optimistic about a source that would give him more information on the attempt.

Minister Durges wasn’t so sure. Everyone’s career was on the line if the killer succeeded. Need-to-know compartmentalization excluded him from the actual raw intelligence data. And that made him nervous. He wished he could be as reassured as the jovial police commissioner.

Two days later, Balfort received more intel: the would-be assassin was someone inside the security services. This didn’t shock him, really. Bribes by organized crime weren’t very common but did happen. What the commissioner hoped for is to have information on a possible date.

Minister Durges grew pale: someone inside the services?! He hated being out of the loop like this. He phoned a old friend of his, a public prosecutor, so she could look into the matter. It was more than reasonable for her office to take an interest. She accepted the task.

Prosecutor Raines asked Balfort to inform her. He was reluctant. She then asked if he had a critical review of the available intelligence. Balfort realized Raines had a point. If things went wrong, they would share the blame. In the best case, Raines would uncover new leads.

She did! Raines managed to piece together when and where the attempt could take place. It would not be a public occasion, but a more private setting of a meeting in the palace.
They both realized that they needed to inform the emperor of this latest and very real threat.

“Minister Durges, Commissioner Balfort and Public Prosecutor Raines, your Majesty,” the majordomo announced.
The emperor liked the handsome Balfort, but thought Durges an alarmist and dull. He hadn’t met Raines and was pleasantly surprised by a good-looking competent woman.

“Everything went according to plan, Master,” the assassin gynoid reported. “As expected Durges reached out to Raines. It was easy to impersonate her, suggest a male assassin and arrange for the meeting. The handshake with the emperor was all I needed to transfer the poison.

OMG! I had so much fun writing a tweet relay Twitter story with Floor Kist!

A what-now?
We may be the first authors of a tweet relay Twitter story. I started the story with a tweet. Then Floor wrote the next, then me again. And in four days this is what the story became! I loved it!

Can Music Make AI Cry?

Can Music Make AI Cry?

Professor Ravenport smoothed her skirt before entering. It would be the first time a Earth human visited the Alder Matrix Superior, the leader of this hybrid AI-humanoid race. Why they had selected her, Miranda didn’t know. She knew nothing of diplomacy or AI.

For the meeting to go smoothly, Miranda had been prepped to call the Matrix Superior, “MatS”. What the Alder wanted with her college’s director of Chamber Music was unclear. Her government contact told her that no matter whom else they suggested, the Alder were unmovable.

“Why do humans cry when they hear music? Or dance or laugh?” the Matrix Superior asked without introduction. “Why should the combination of rhythm and sound to form a functional melodic line touch human senses?” MatS looked at Miranda expectantly and with a hint of a smile.

It wasn’t her position that interested the Alder, but her knowledge of ethnomusicology. She had some published work about what kind of people were moved to tears and what those tears meant. They must know them. So, Miranda concluded that MatS wanted to feel that as well.

“Do Alder cry, MatS?” Miranda asked just as directly as the Alder did.
“We’ve rationalized so much in our world, that we hardly ever do. After deliberation, we concluded that our mental health should improve by 42.8% if there were more emotional release; 47.23% with music.”

“Do you need happy tears or sad tears?”
This question seemed to surprise MatS a fraction of a moment. “Ah, the beauty of humanity and the richness of choice. Could we but order our emotions…”
Miranda nodded. “Maybe not, but we can set a mood and let it overwhelm us.”

The Matrix Superior considered this. “We don’t let our senses overwhelm us, professor Ravenport. It is not our way. Can you tell us what happens when we do?” MatS asked nervously.
“You cry, you laugh, you love. You know, you do silly things…” Miranda answered with a smirk.

“And this is what music will do for us?”
“My studies show that people who rank high on neuroticism scale experience sadness. People who score high in openness to experience scale cry because music provokes a sense of awe.”
MatS knew she had to choose before it was too late.

The End