Young Writers Society

Yes, this is the first of the chapters to actually have a name. It also introduces the two other main characters.

Again, as I've stated before, I will be dividing this into two topics because it is so darned long (some 14000 words). This is the first topic.

I'd like some more comments on the first chapter, so if you haven't read it yet go read it. You don't have to read the prologue to make sense of what's going on, but feel free to if you want.

Chapter Two: The Reisenberg Showcase

Some thirty miles away from the old suburb where Louis Orson and Peter Corseley had been holding their discussion, in the middle of the vibrant Lendian District of the New World Order’s main metropolis, two college students sat down for lunch.

The college students were named Gina Wu and Daniel Hopkins, and they were sophomore undergrads at the prestigious Lendian University. The restaurant they had chosen was a popular establishment with students, a little hole-in-the-wall cafe tucked in the side corner of Lendian’s main shopping plaza. Although small, it received plenty of business, mostly from students like Gina and Daniel who would discuss their studies and classes.

This Tuesday afternoon the restaurant was bustling as always with activity—students held animated discussions in the comfortable little booths while servebots threaded their ways around the tables in practiced paths, ferrying full and dirty dishes to and fro. Electric light strips ran the length of the ceiling, but their feeble glow was unnecessary as the bright noon sun, streaming through the restaurant’s wide windows, provided ample lighting.

“You have the invites?” said Daniel, an undisguised note of eagerness to his voice. He leaned forward in his seat in a barely perceptible motion.

“Of course,” said Gina, smiling at Daniel. She reached for the battered satchel plopped on the booth beside her, but her attention was snapped from it by the sound of a servebot whirring over to the booth, and startling her with a series of loud, officious clicks.

“Welcome to the Calvert Café, sir, madam. Would you like to place an order?” it said, the words flat and inflectionless. An audible click could be heard after every syllable.

“Oh—of course!” said Daniel. “Um, I’d like an iced mint mocha. And you, Gina--?”

“A vanilla latte, please,” said Gina.

“You’re so predictable, Gina,” said Daniel, an impish smirk twitching at the corners of his lips, resting his chin on his hands as he surveyed Gina across the table. “You always get the same thing, without fail, every time.”

“So?” said Gina, unable to prevent the defensive note that had slipped into her voice. “That way, I know what to expect. I’m not like you, Daniel—I can’t believe you actually drank that disgusting banana-fish concoction…”

“That was healthy, though,” said Daniel, smiling in a satisfied manner. “And besides, I think it’s good to have a bit of variety in your life, right?”

“Daniel—” began Gina, though she didn’t know why she was trying to argue this point with her companion. She’d long accepted the multiple differences between herself and Daniel, and didn’t bother trying to reconcile them—their similarities, and their strengths, far outweighed any cosmetic differences.

Gina was distracted from whatever indignant diatribe she’d been about to embark on by the sound of the servebot’s officious clicking. She whirled around, startled, her long ponytail whipping behind her, to face it. If she hadn’t known better, she’d almost think that the look in the servebot’s large, dull eyes was one of vague resentment.

“Would you like anything else, sir, madam?” it said. Click click click click click, click click. Gina had to keep herself from wincing with each click—she should be used to it by now, but it still bothered her. To her, it almost sounded as if there was a ticking time bomb hidden deep within the servebot’s sleek metal body.

“No,” said Daniel. “That’ll be all, thank you.”

“Thank you for doing business with the Calvert Café.” The servebot issued a standard flat, click-laden preprogrammed phrase, before swiveling around (with another audible click), lowering its metal arms in an awkward, disjointed, almost dreamlike manner down to its side, and scooting off again along its preprogrammed track, with all the grace of a trolley car clanking its way down a track it had only a tenuous attachment to. Gina watched the servebot go, her dark eyes sharp and intent, disapproval forming in her mind.

“Look at it,” she hissed, leaning across the table Daniel to address her companion in a low, fierce whisper. “It’s so cumbersome! Look at the jerky angles, the way it moves. That track must be over a decade old! Not to mention metal tracks are just inefficient in the first place; do you remember what Professor Maddox was talking about in class, about those new magnetized laser track systems—”

“Of course, Gina,” said Daniel in his calm, even way, watching the disappear with a loud whirr into the café’s kitchen. “But it’s only a restaurant servebot. You shouldn’t expect anything cutting-edge from it.”

Gina paused to think about this and realized that Daniel had a valid point. “You’re right,” she said, no small amount of contriteness to her voice, pushing her black hair behind her ears and looking away from Daniel. When she looked back at Daniel, she found he was no longer watching the servebot, but surveying her with a gentle smile.

That was Daniel—always so friendly and kind and amicable, nothing like the more quiet and reclusive Gina. His smile was calm and his features boyish and gentle, green eyes twinkling with a playful light and brown hair swept back in the style popular amongst hot-shot urbanite university students. Gina herself found it strange that she and Daniel had struck up such a harmonious friendship, given their different personalities and backgrounds. Gina had been born to a family that had sent its children to Lendian ever since the university’s founding—unusual, to be able to claim an actual “history” in the age of the New World Order—and Daniel…well, no one knew anything about Daniel’s origins. Daniel himself refused to say. Gina herself suspected an exotic origin for him—maybe he even came from the East—but since Daniel didn’t talk about it or seem to want to, Gina had the sense to not inquire.

But Gina felt that she knew the reason why she and Daniel had become such close friends, possibly best friends. It was because out of everyone in Lendian University, they were the only ones who could possibly relate to and understand each other. Gina knew that she would have never been able to discuss the efficiency of servebot tracks with any other student.

“You are right that it could be more efficient,” Daniel was saying, an infinite patience caressing his words, elbows resting on the table, “but stop to consider—what use would that be? The servebot works, doesn’t it?”

“Of course,” said Gina. “If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. Dad used to say that all the time…” A small smile spread across her face at the sudden memory.

“Precisely,” said Daniel. “If the servebot works and there’s nothing wrong with it, then trying to ‘fix’ it would be pointless, correct? At the same time, there are a ton of other applications where the latest, most efficient robot equipment could be utilized. Like defusing mines…or robotic rescue workers…I mean, quibbling about an inefficient servebot just seems so—so wasteful, you know?”

“I know, Daniel,” sighed Gina, sinking back in her seat. “I know…no need to pound it in. I’m sorry, okay? It was just an observation.”

Daniel watched her with an undue severity, but only for a moment, before his face lightened and he relaxed again, reclining against his chair and smiling at Gina. “No, my bad, Gina. I didn’t intend for it to come out that way. I was just saying...”

“I—” began Gina, but yet again she was interrupted before she could finish, by the sound of the servebot whirring across the tracks again, this time bearing a metal tray in an aloft arm.

“Your drinks, sir, madam,” clicked the servebot.

“Thank you very much,” said Daniel, as the servebot plucked the drinks off the tray and set them on the table in the delicate, awkward manner of a child afraid to mess up on an important task. Daniel grabbed his iced mocha immediately, and took a long sip from it; Gina, however, was content to let her steaming latte sit, as she knew it’d be too hot for human hands to touch at the moment.

“Thank you very much, sir, madam,” said the servebot, unintentionally repeating Daniel’s words. It lowered its metal head in the faint impression of an awkward bow, and then scooted off again across its track, this time to serve a group of loud-voiced seniors poring over calculus problems.

“Not bad,” said Daniel, a faint, content expression on his face as he took another, more restrained, sip of his mint mocha. “You should try some.”

“No thanks. Mint and me don’t mix,” said Gina, holding up her hands to repudiate Daniel’s friendly offer.

“Oh, Gina, you’re no fun at all,” said Daniel with a gentle laugh, though he didn’t sound very much offended. “So—as I was saying—”

“No, I understand,” said Gina, stirring her coffee and watching the steam rise in lazy curls from it, obscuring her view of Daniel. “You do have a point. I just couldn’t help it. You know?”

“Of course.” Daniel responded with a bright smile. “I’m not certain that I would have done any differently if I was in your place.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” said Gina, arching an eyebrow and surveying Daniel through the steam with a sidelong glance.

“Maybe it is,” agreed Daniel. A pause and then, “I bet…I bet he’s like that too.”

Gina blinked at Daniel, surprised for a brief moment. It was still difficult to see him through the steam, but she could see that he was smiling again. Gina, too, smiled back at him, and jerked her head in a little nod.

“You’re right,” she said. “He probably is. Not that I’d know,” she added with a measure of defensiveness.

“That’s the point. No one knows,” said Daniel, shrugging. The clouds of steam were dissipating now, making it easier for Gina to see Daniel now. For the first time, Daniel bore an almost serious expression, a quiet solemnity having fallen over his boyish face. Gina sat up a little straighter in her chair, recognizing the direction that this conversation was about to take…

“So, Gina,” he said. “The invites.”

“Right…here.” Gina didn’t need Daniel’s prompting to grab the beaten old satchel thrown haphazardly beside her and force it open. The satchel was old and ragged, but Gina had taken pains to organize its contents neatly, so she was able to find what she was looking for in a heartbeat.

“Here,” said Gina, pulling out the two, neatly-folded invites she had placed with infinite care in the innermost pocket of her satchel. They were written on the brand new kind of light-pad—the Mark XVII—Professor Maddox recently introduced to Gina’s class; so new, in fact, that they were only under use so far by government officials and an exclusive echelon of programmers. They were loaded with features and too expensive to have entered mass production…making it rather odd that Gina and Daniel, two college students barely able to cover their debts, would be possess not on but two Mark XVIIs. Gina, however, was impressed not by what they were, but what was written on them.

“Wow, that was surprisingly fast,” said Daniel, and his surprise rang in his voice—a pleasant kind of surprise. “I didn’t think that Professor Maddox would let you…”

“Oh, Professor Maddox is important. He’s got priority,” said Gina, unable to help the swell of pride that had risen within her at these words. “He told me it wouldn’t be a problem getting them—and it really wasn’t.”

“Are these for real?” said Daniel, excitement causing his voice to almost tremble. He reached across the table, holding a hand out in polite expectation, and Gina obliged by placing one light-pad—with infinite care—on Daniel’s open palm.

“If you’re asking if I ran any authenticity tests on them, no,” said Gina. “I mean, Professor Maddox got them for us, who are we to doubt him?”

“Yeah…” said Daniel, though he didn’t sound as if he was paying much attention. His green eyes were focused with a studious concentration on the invite in his hand, and Gina followed suit and glanced down at her own, unable to quell the little bubble of glee that rose in her stomach as she read the elegantly scripted words, crisp black against a white backdrop:

Miss Gina Minhua Wu
You are cordially invited to
The VIIth ANNUAL REISENBERG ROBOTICS AND AUTOMATON SHOWCASE
Sponsored by Dr. Hermann Reisenberg, Dr. Marisol Cosas, Dr. Dwayne M. Emmett
3 August 13 at the Westhall Building 8:00 PM
Featuring Special Guest Speaker
Louis Taylor Orson
Second Genius of the New World Order


Featuring special guest speaker…Louis Taylor Orson…Second Genius of the New World Order…
True, as hopeful programmers, Gina and Daniel did do their best to attend as many robotics seminars and showcases as they could, to see how the professionals modeled and programmed their robots and androids. But this particular showcase had intrigued the two students more than any other so far this year…namely because the Second Genius would be making a rare public appearance, as the showcase’s keynote speaker. The instant Gina had heard, she’d raced over to Professor Maddox and besieged him with heartfelt requests to attend, along with Daniel…please, Professor Maddox, who knows when an opportunity like this will come again…we’ll get to the see the Second Genius in person…please, Professor, I’m sure you can get us access…

After several weeks, Professor Maddox had relented—and just in time. The Reisenberg showcase, after all, would take place this weekend.

In retrospect, Gina supposed she had been a little hard on the poor old professor. Sure he had high standing as a respected programmer, but even that didn’t guarantee him the ability to secure invites for two hapless undergrads of his. Gina felt the situation was almost unfair—she’d been so insistent on getting the invites that she hadn’t stopped to think about what Professor Maddox must be feeling. Suppose he hadn’t been able to secure the invites…? What would he say, then, to his favorite student who’d been pestering him for weeks?

Well, what was done was done, thought Gina, and she had already apologized to Professor Maddox for any hard feelings. The professor, of course, had none—and the look of rapturous joy on Daniel’s face when he’d heard of Gina’s success was enough to exonerate Gina of any of the guilt she still felt about hounding Professor Maddox. They had done it—they were going to the Reisenberg Showcase; they were going to see the Second Genius.

----------------------------

Sorry again for the inopportune cutting-off-point.

Again, I appreciate all criticism...in particular on my prose. It's good awful. *weeps* Part of what made this chapter a little more difficult for me to write is that I have a bit of trouble writing from Gina's POV as opposed to Louis; she's much less fun. Still, she will be the other main POV character, so...yeah.

More will be up soon.

BTW, the invite is supposed to be centered and in a different font. So yeah...I had to italicize it to kind of convey the message. Oh well.

...I am so totally on time here. Don't believe what those clocks tell you. They're lying, lying, I say!

*ahem* XDD

So! Great new chapter, I still love your dialogue, you description, your characterization… oh so very much. I really like how this scene gave us an idea of all the characters, their interests, their personalities, the world around them. Also, the plot is looking interesting-er (that’s a word now, because I said so) by the minute—can’t wait for more!.

Now, I didn’t notice any problems with her at all, but if you really don’t enjoy writing from Gina’s perspective, it might be a sign that something’s up. I have a similar problem, actually—I have trouble relating to several of my characters, and it really shows when the story shifts to focus on them. Actually, it even happens with my MC all the time—there are lots of times when I struggle with her as a character, and when I’m stuck in her POV, I get frustrated with the story as a whole as well. So (and granted, this is just speaking from my experience, you may be different) writing from the POV of a character you don’t like or even just feel indifferent to is pretty draining and frustrating. Maybe if you don’t enjoy writing from Gina’s POV, it would help to try and work on her character development more, get to know her better? (Hypocritical advice is hypocritical, I know XD). Just a thought.

Also about characters; I’m really sorry to say this, but I thought Daniel came off as just a little bit condescending towards Gina. I’m not sure if that was intentional or not? Maybe my English class has just got me reading way to far into things again. XD

By the way, I loved Gina’s noticing of the way the robot is clicking, the way she thinks it sounds like a time bomb—super-special-awesome sensory description, really gave me a feel for both the scene and her character. (Actually, I have to say that I thought the robot’s characterization was pretty awesome, as well). One thing, though; I think you described the clicking as “officious” like three times. So… might want to pick another word.

And now for the random prose critiques:

lowering its metal arms in an awkward, disjointed, almost dreamlike manner down to its side,

It may be just me, but I think of dreamlike as a more smooth, sliding, graceful motion, which seems to be the exact opposite of what you're going for here. Trying to imagine it kind of threw me off.

It lowered its metal head in the faint impression of an awkward bow, and then scooted off again across its track, this time to serve a group of loud-voiced seniors poring over calculus problems.

XD I'm sorry, but I keep misreading "seniors" as meaning "senior citizens," you know, old people. I'm sure I'm the only one who keeps reading it that way, so you might want to wait for a second opinion before you worry over it.

It was still difficult to see him through the steam,

That's... that's a lot of steam, there. Does coffee really give off that much?

Anyway, you win. I love this story so much, can’t wait to read more. I hope this review was at least a little more helpful than the last one, I feel really bad for how simplistic and shallow that review was. : ( I’ll try to do better, sorry…

(If it helps, I’m better at reviewing characters and plot in huge chunks—like, at least a chapter at a time. I feel weird about talking about other people’s characters based on one or two chapters, I’m always afraid I’ll be interpreting them wrong.. So that’s part of the reason why all my reviews suck, sorry.)

Well, see you next… chapter… part… thingy. ^_^

Doesn't matter if it's late--I welcome all reviews. (though I'd like to start getting critiques from a more diverse set of people...no offense but seems like the same two people are reviewing all my stuff. Eh).

Also, the plot is looking interesting-er (that’s a word now, because I said so) by the minute—can’t wait for more!.

Haw haw, I take it you'll love Louis's speech, then.

Maybe if you don’t enjoy writing from Gina’s POV, it would help to try and work on her character development more, get to know her better?

Excellent advice! I've been thinking the same think, actually...I really don't know Gina quite as well as Louis (though actually I think I've got her backstory worked out better than his). Which is odd because Gina is...a lot like me. I stress she's not a self-insert, though. >_>

Blarrghh...quite simply, Gina's situation is confusing in that she's basically an ordinary citizen in a totalitarian state. Louis is outside the state so can think and say whatever he wants (within reasonable limits), but Gina lives right in the middle of it...being an American, I have no conception of what it would be like to just live an ordinary life in such a situation. That's why I think I'll start looking up accounts from Nazi Germany or Stalinist Russia or whatever...though I'm kind of basing the NWO on Communist China. Though all the times I've been to China, everyone's basically normal and happy-seeming. So yeah. The point of all this is that I need to figure out the psychological...ism...whatever...of living in a totalitarian/authoritarian (which one is it? I forget...) state. Until I get that figured out, I think I'll have trouble writing Gina.

Also about characters; I’m really sorry to say this, but I thought Daniel came off as just a little bit condescending towards Gina. I’m not sure if that was intentional or not? Maybe my English class has just got me reading way to far into things again. XD

Wow, this may not be the reaction you were expecting, but--you just made my day. XD Seriously. I'm glad you noticed a character flaw in Daniel, because all this time I kept spazzing that he was a perfect, boring, Gary Stu. Thank you SO much for noticing that he isn't. *whew* I'm so relieved he's flawed in at least one minor little way...

One thing, though; I think you described the clicking as “officious” like three times. So… might want to pick another word.

Argh, word choice has always been one of my weaker points. >_> Thanks for noticing that. I know my writing has a tendency to be redundant. I am trying to change that.

And now for the random prose critiques:

That's... that's a lot of steam, there. Does coffee really give off that much?

This may in fact be a relic of the first draft, in which both Gina and Danile had hot coffees. That'd make it seem more realistic, I suppose...blehh, still not very. I'll change it, though.

Anyway, you win. I love this story so much, can’t wait to read more. I hope this review was at least a little more helpful than the last one, I feel really bad for how simplistic and shallow that review was. : ( I’ll try to do better, sorry…

No; no--it's okay, that was a good review.

Well, sorry to disappoint...but I probably won't be posting much more of Zenith (after the third chapter). The thing is, not only have I hit something of a creativity block, NaNoWriMo is also coming up so I want to focus my energies there. Not to mention school and the PSAT and an essay I have to write for English right now...

So yeah. Sorry. But still, you've got the rest of the second chapter and (most of) the third chapter to look forward to!

I'll start off by saying that I haven't read chapter 1 or the prologue. The reason is you seem to have gotten enough reviews already, and anything I'd have to observe or say concerning those chapters is highly unlikely not to have been said already.

I'm going to delve into the chapter. I don't suspect I'll be too confused to make sense of things. But speaking of not having anything to say, the review you got was very imformative, and I don't suspect I can top it. Nonetheless I will endeavor to do the best I can.

...ferrying full and dirty dishes to and fro

it's to-and-fro

Click click click click click, click click

You used the sound several times. I think it would be easier for the reader to read something like "the robot uttered several rapid oscillations. They somehow seemed real ominous to Gina."

It lowered its metal head in the faint impression of an awkward bow, and then scooted off again across its track, this time to serve a group of loud-voiced seniors poring over calculus problems

One of your reviewers mentioned that she thought of senior-citizens when she read this passage. I'd did too, at first, but the fact that you mentioned calculus allows us both to know that you're referring to college seniors. I don't think this passage needs to be changed.

“Here,” said Gina, pulling out the two, neatly-folded invites she had placed with infinite care in the innermost pocket of her satchel.

Invites is an informal word. It's find that let your characters to use the term, but I don't think it's proper to use it in your third-person narrative.

They were written on the brand new kind of light-pad—the Mark XVII—Professor Maddox recently introduced to Gina’s class; so new, in fact, that they were only under use so far by government officials and an exclusive echelon of programmers. They were loaded with features and too expensive to have entered mass production…making it rather odd that Gina and Daniel, two college students barely able to cover their debts, would be possess not on but two Mark XVIIs. Gina, however, was impressed not by what they were, but what was written on them.

Is there any reason these two students have them? And even if there is, could they possibly bring it out in public without stirring dangerous suspicion? Maybe there's a good explanation for them possessing it, but is it really wise for them to bring them out in front of strangers?

“Are these for real?” said Daniel

Can you authentically see lexicon such as these still being used in the future this is in? If the answer is yes, then fine, no problem. If the answer is no, you could have him say something generic and universal to the English language, or you can make up your own "future slang". That's what Anthony Burgess did when he wrote A Clockwork Orange. Then again, to some writers, this may seem an unnecessary and even daunting task. I'll just say that, while some readers will let stuff like this slide or not even notice unauthenticity like this (assuming it's unauthenitc at all), I'm one of those readers that likes versimilitude an plausibility in science-fiction. In the first novel of Gene Wolf's Book of the New Sun series, which is set in a very distant future on the planet earth (written as Urth in this and subsequent series), the reader is told in an author's note or something like that after the end of the book, that the denizens of this world don't speak English or any other language that is alive today. But instead of using invented words, Gene Wolf said he correlated the terms that the inhabitants used with words that are in our English language. What I mean to say is, he'll use the word "horse" or "destrier", even though the animal he's describing isn't exactly a horse. He just uses the word because that's the closest thing in our common lexicon that corresponds with the animal he's mentioning. The point is there are authors that, when writing a story that takes place in a distant future, put some thought into the lexicon and terminology that their characters use, just for the sake of authenticity. All of us know what Daniel means when he says "Are these for real", but suppose people are reading this story in the year this novel is set. Do you think they'll understand? More importantly, can you see them usingit? I think everyone has the ability to reckon how long types of slang will be in use.

Well that was much longer than I expected it to be. Since I gave such a lengthy explanation, I'll be very disappointed to learn that you have a reasonable explanation or that the time period is recent enough for slang such as that to still be in use.

Suppose he hadn’t been able to secure the invites…? What would he say, then, to his favorite student who’d been pestering him for weeks?

I think this is unnecessary exposition. I've seen other cases of this in your story, for instance when Gina and Daniel begin talking about the railsystem used in the restaurant, and then Daniel proceeds to stress a point that had already been not only clearly made, but accepted by the recepient. Things like this aren't fun for the reader to read, because the reader doesn't care about exposition like this. There some exoposition that the reader appreciates, such as details of settings or characters which confers lucid imagery, or conversations and actions that are meaningfulto the story and-more importantly-to the reader. As a reader, I didn't give a damn what Gina thought about the servebot. I didn't find the discussion interesting or relevant. You could change something to make it interesting. Gina seems to agree with Daniel all the time. What would happen if she disagreed with him for once? Would they have a fight? How would this affect their relationship? How would that affect the story? That would make the story interesting. You don't have to do this, however. It may not be in Gina's character to disagree with Daniel, and you may have no interest in changing her to do that. But that's one way of making the conversation interesting to the reader. Another thing you could do is skip the conversation or just recapitulate it briefly, if you really want to give the reader the impression that Gina and Daniel are talking, even if it's not relevant to the story. As for the piece I quoted, I think it's valuable to know that Gina that in retrospect that she was insensitive to the professor, but there's no reason to expound on it like you did with the above paragraph. The important thing is that Gina, in retrospect, was not proud of her insistence.

I'm wondering if this is just my opinion though, and not an objective fact. While I said I didn't like the dialog, and found some of it boring and unnecessary, Zankoku said she loved it. I can't discredit her opinion, simply because it's an opinion. I didn't enjoy the dialogue, but she said she did. It's possible that we have different tastes when it comes to elements we like in stories. I personally like to focus on the "Big Picture" and the "Idea". Perhaps Zan prefers characterization and enjoys watching characters interact. I enjoy watching characters interact as well, but only if the interaction is relevant, which in the cases I mentioned, were not. Zan's welcome to disagree with me if she wants, and I'll be interested to hear some of her points. I just find it interesting that she likes it and I don't. I suspect that we both may have some valid points about this, but I'm not really sure who's right (if anyone of us is.)

personally like to focus on the "Big Picture" and the "Idea". Perhaps Zan prefers characterization and enjoys watching characters interact. I enjoy watching characters interact as well, but only if the interaction is relevant, which in the cases I mentioned, were not.

I'll start off by saying then that this story really isn't for you, then. I'm one of those authors who believes that all stories--every story--ultimately flows forth from the characters. Characters are "not created by necessity"; they and their interactions are the lifeblood of the story.

You have relevant complaints--particularly on my tendency to be redundant. This has grown and grown like a monster to the point where the third chapter features a sequence of paragraphs that basically restate the same thought over and over again. >_> I need to learn to be more concise, which is something I'm struggling with. So thank you for pointing that out.

That being said...I think the problem here is one of misaimed audience. From the beginning I never intended this story to be a hard science fiction (I detest that genre, by the way--only Asimov really made it work and he tended to focus more on social-political aspects than technological). I remember the reason I puttered out on this in the first place, because I was terrified my world-building was inconsistent--but finally decided my readers would probably care less about the world's little details and more about the characters' story. In fact, my hugest block in writing this book (this is to the first in six-novel cycle spanning science fiction and fantasy genres, playing hard and fast and loose with all sorts of speculative fiction tropes) is that it's so intensely sci fi compared to all the other novels I plan on writing. Most of them have a more intense fantasy aspect, which is much more muted in this book. So I'm struggling because it's mainly science fiction. Don't get me wrong, I love space opera (Star Trek~), but as I said before, I dislike science fiction that cares more about the world/technology than the characters. It seems so far we like different aspects of science ficiton--I like to conjecture about what daily life in a more futuristic society would be like, while you seem to like the technological aspects? Just a guess.

BTW, think of this story as being set on a "parallel" world, not a future Earth. I'm sorry if that's not clear, but later novels in particular will make it clear this world is *not* Earth in any way shape or form. I know it doesn't make much sense, but it serves the purpose of the story.

You don't need to read the prologue to make sense of the first chapter, but I suggest you'd read the first chapter before this one. I actually like it a LOT better than this one (much more concise and better written), though I'm not so sure you will since it's heavily character-oriented. Actually, reading both prologue and the first chapter would've alerted you to what kind of story this is--a much more character-driven science fiction than you were probably expecting.

You raised some very valid points--I'll definitely work on fixing my redundancy. I will try to eliminate repeating the same thing twice. *cough* Sorry, that was cheap...anyway. You've also certainly taught me the audience I need to aim for, too. ~_^ From the beginning I never had the intention of seeing this sit on the science fiction shelves of the bookstore; now I'll work harder at defining my genre/audience. Thank you! ^^

Well...here's the rest of chapter two. Sorry for not posting sooner. I was busy pretending to study for the PSAT. Ah, so much subversion. Here it goes--

“Quid pro quo, Daniel,” said Gina, setting down the invite with a cautious tenderness on the café table. “I got the invites—did you finish the schematics?”

Daniel tore his eyes away from his invite, a lingering longing still shining in his eyes, before setting it down—as gently as Gina had—and turning around to face his friend. “Well…I’ve got the basics down.”

“Let’s see them,” said Gina. She extended her hand across the table, twitching her fingers expectantly. Daniel responded by reaching into his own bag—better-kept, but more disorganized, than Gina’s—and pulled out a small black tablet. Rather than drop it into Gina’s outstretched hand, he rested it on the table, pushing aside his mint mocha to accommodate it.

Gina rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward to examine the notebook, just as Daniel swept his hand down the front to activate it. The notebook’s screen lit up, revealing an intricate collection of glowing green diagrams. Gina bent over them, an intent frown wrinkling her brows.

“I’ve never seen these before,” she said. “Did you just make them this morning? They’re so detailed!”

Daniel gave Gina an abashed smile. “Well…yeah. I haven’t checked them, though. They’re just ideas, really…”

“Still, this is brilliant, Daniel—don’t sell yourself short,” Gina insisted. She knew that she was one of the best programmers in Lendian University, despite being only a sophomore undergrad, but she also knew that Daniel was far superior to her. And the Second Genius, Louis Orson, only a few years older than them, was leagues above the both of them.

Nonetheless, Gina and Daniel both felt—and knew—that out of all the students in Lendian University, they were the ones best qualified to become his protégés.

And that was why they wanted so badly to meet him, to the point where Gina had reduced herself to begging from her professor. Gina Wu and Daniel Hopkins wanted nothing more than to come under the tutelage of Louis Orson, the most brilliant programmer in the country—and perhaps the overall most intelligent man in the entire New World Order.

It was almost madness, to want to become the Second Genius’ protégés, particularly when said Second Genius didn’t seem to even care about acquiring students or passing on his legacy. Why should he, when he was so young and in the prime of his life? To Gina, it seemed that the Second Genius was content with his hermit-like existence in an abandoned suburb, where he wrote programs and designed androids all day long, almost never disturbing his hermit-like existence to interact with the outside world.

In that case, he differed from his own mentor, the First Genius, who had once even traveled to Lendian to deliver a speech on the increasing specialization of robots. Gina hadn’t been a student back then, but her brother Andrew had been, and, knowing Gina’s interest in robotics, he had recorded that speech and given it to her. Gina had listened to that recording so many times she had memorized it, memorized the gentle cadence of the First Genius’ voice, his wisdom lending both force and tenderness to his expert words, and his natural engaging personality shining through and livening up even the rather staid topic he was discussing.

The First Genius of the New World Order was dead now. Everyone knew how he had died two years ago—a mysterious illness had stricken him and tragically felled him at the prime of his youthful vigor. He had only been thirty-two.

Gina remembered it, remembered all the hype the media had made, remembered the national day of mourning the New World Order had declared. She remembered attending his memorial service, even, because her father had been a prominent programmer who had often collaborated with the First Genius. The memorial service had ironically not been very memorable—to this date the only thing Gina could remember about it was that it had rained. What Gina considered most interesting about the memorial service was that her father had gone—she’d been awed by the prospect her father had known the First Genius that well. When she had voiced this sentiment to him, however, he had replied, shaking his head, “No, Gina. No one ever knew him. No one could ever know him.”

Gina hadn’t understood what her father had meant back then, and she still didn’t exactly understand now. She thought that maybe it had something to do with the First Genius’—well, genius. He had been absolutely brilliant—even Gina’s father, who had been in the field for almost three decades and possessed two doctorates, admitted that he’d felt like a child learning his numbers again when he tried to interpret some of the First Genius’s more complicated codes and schematics. Perhaps that was what her father had meant when he said it was impossible to “know” the First Genius, not when his brilliance far outstripped even the most outstanding minds of his day. And the Second Genius was no doubt the exact same in that respect.

“Gina?” Gina jerked up and blinked, startled out of her reverie by the sound of Daniel’s gentle and inquisitive voice. She looked up across the table at her friend, who was watching her with a look of wary concern. With a pang of guilt, Gina realized that Daniel must have been talking about his schematics when she had been zoning out, reflecting on the First and Second Geniuses…

“Oh, sorry,” said Gina, her words tripping over each other in awkward haste. “I—I kind of spaced out…”

“It’s okay,” said Daniel, smiling again. A very vague and irreverent part of Gina wondered just what it would take to truly set Daniel off, because as far as Gina knew, Daniel had always been calm and reasonable to unflappable extents. “I don’t mind. I was just asking if you wouldn’t mind looking over these for me.”

“What? Oh, the schematics?” said Gina, looking back at the notebook still resting on the table. “Of course I wouldn’t mind.”

“Right…I’m not sure if these are the ones we should use,” Daniel said, tapping the notebook in an absent, almost affectionate, manner, “but they seem pretty sound to me.”

Gina seized on Daniel’s last words in an instant. “Not that ‘pretty sound’ is going to cut it.”

“Of course not,” agreed Daniel, not sounding perturbed at all. “I know it isn’t—these are just ideas, anyway. I mean, good ideas, of course, but…”

He trailed off, and grinned almost sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head like an errant schoolboy who’d run out of words to defend himself. Gina had to admit it was one of the first times she’d ever seen Daniel flustered, and for a moment she was at a complete loss for what to do. The moment passed, mercifully enough, and Daniel had picked up the notebook again—only to push it across the table at Gina. Gina stared down at it, confused.

“What—” she began, but Daniel didn’t give her a chance to finish.

“That’s where you come in, Gina,” said Daniel. “I know I’m better at envisioning things than…well, carrying them out. So—if you don’t mind, of course—try to look through them, see if there’s anything really exceptional there, make fixes when you need to, that sort of thing.”

Gina glanced down at the green-lined designs of the androids still floating on the notebook’s surface, and then glanced back up at Daniel. A quiet entreaty was now shining in his green eyes—but he should know enough by now that he didn’t need to entreat Gina for anything. Of course she’d do it for him; that was what friends did. It didn’t need saying, and Gina preferred that she didn’t say anything, because she knew that with her tendency to never say what she was actually feeling, she’d never be able to voice it eloquently enough.

Instead, she settled for saying, “All right, Daniel. I’ll be happy to.”

“Good.” Daniel smiled again, and Gina felt her spirits lift in a strange, intangible way. She didn’t know why, but there was something…inspiring…about Daniel’s smile. Something that made Gina want to reach out and do her best, something that made her want to succeed for Daniel’s sake. It was something Gina couldn’t quite quantify in words, so she chose not to.

In the distance, the university’s bells began their low, rhythmic, chiming, signaling the beginning of a new hour. All around, students began to push in their chairs and head off to their classes, at least those that had afternoon classes. Gina didn’t, but Daniel did, and he stood up opposite her.

“Gotta go,” he said, giving her an easy smile. Gina replied with a smile of her own.

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll look over your schematics, okay, Daniel?”

“Thanks,” said Daniel, picking up his side bag and hauling it over his shoulder. He headed over to the café’s exit, but paused to turn around and give Gina one final wave, which Gina returned. “See you after class,” he called.

“You too,” said Gina, watching Daniel’s retreating back. She then straightened up in her seat and picked up Daniel’s notebook, her dark eyes flickering over the surface as she changed pages to examine the myriad of glowing green android schematics that Daniel had created just that morning, taking only occasional pauses to sip from her coffee mug. Servebots buzzed and clicked in the restaurant around her, but she found it all too easy to ignore them.

*******************

Daniel’s schematics were strange and beautiful and wonderful. He envisioned androids with long, slender, snakelike arms that could maneuver the tiniest cracks; he designed robots with enormous durable rollers instead of feet, that could traverse rough terrain; and then there were the standards-function, human-shaped androids, with their elegantly flowing hair, straight slim limbs, and bright eyes peering almost—almost—human-like from their sculpted faces.

Professor Maddox, and many of Gina’s classmates, had described Daniel as being more of an artist than a scientist, and nothing proved it more than the cornucopia of schematics that Gina was now flipping intently through, moving her hand in practiced motions over the cover of Daniel’s notebook as she switched from one green-sketched design to another. They were nothing like Gina’s—cold, precise outlines of the exact circuits and inner functions of the androids. No, Daniel’s diagrams were almost like…like drawings, like the hurried sketches of an artist, the free-flowing concepts of a designer.

There were flaws, multiple flaws, in Daniel’s designs—the technology to make the snakelike arms wasn’t yet commercially feasible, the rollers were too unbalanced, the androids’ limbs were too long—but they were all minor quibbles compared to the breadth of his sheer vision. Gina marveled at how Daniel was able to see these things, to create things with as much originality as he did. Awesome things, discomfiting things, humorous things. He thought of an android that could convert from a child’s ball to a toy car to miniature fighting robot. He envisioned a warbot with huge, wicked curved sabers. And then there were the flybots, with their massive folding wings that could furl and unfurl in a matter of seconds. The massive variety of Daniel’s designs was breathtaking to Gina. She herself knew that she lacked the creativity to come up with the marvelous and unique designs Daniel created so easily.

Nonetheless…it wasn’t enough, and Gina knew it. Daniel’s schematics had a novelty to them and there were many, many, of them, but Gina was realistic enough to know that they weren’t enough to catch the Second Genius’ attention. Hadn’t she read all the articles in the Modern Programming and The Roboticist, showcasing Louis Orson’s robotics designs? Gina often marveled at them, at the photobots that walked on surprisingly graceful skinny tripod legs, the cleanbots able to wipe an entire ballroom floor free of dust in a matter of seconds, at the standards-function androids who smiled and spoke with only a trace of clicking, their inflection almost human.

But Gina knew that Louis Orson’s true genius lay not in what was on the outside, but what was inside the robots. He was a programmer first and foremost, and it showed. His designs were interesting in of themselves, but his programs were mind-blowing. It was Orson who was responsible for the new safety protocols of recent buildbots, it was Orson who’d revolutionized the art of robotic war with his warbots’ self-directed military initiatives, and it was Orson who’d programmed rescue robots to seek out and rescue the most injured first, rather than whoever was nearest them. He had programmed robots to be far more flexible than ever before, and far more able to get along with humans—because the central tenet of Orson’s philosophy as a programmer was that the machine had to serve the man, not the opposite way around.

And that was why Gina knew that they needed more than Daniel’s schematics, as wonderful as they were. That was why Gina stayed up late during the nights, kept up only by a faithful mug of coffee, staring at screens all night long and inputting data, writing codes and programs for androids, sometimes working on a single program through the entire night, only, in a fit of disgust at how she hadn’t created anything truly innovative, to end up deleting all of her hard work.

No one had ever said it would easy to become the Second Genius’ apprentices, Gina thought grimly, scrolling through another page of Daniel’s schematics. Nonetheless, she knew that her and Daniel’s hard work wouldn’t be worth nothing. They would persevere…and eventually, they would attract the Second Genius’ interest.

Before today, that plan had been but a pipe dream—now, it seemed closer to reality than it ever had, and for the first time Gina allowed herself to hope. Of course, going to the Reisenberg Showcase didn’t guarantee an audience with the Second Genius. Hence why Gina and Daniel had to create something astounding, something that would catch his attention and convince him to take them seriously.

The design Gina was looking at wouldn’t do that, the student thought ruefully. It seemed to be a concept of a sort of dance partner robot, coming in a male edition and a female edition. Somehow Gina felt it was a bit over-the-top to make a dancing robot and made a note to tell Daniel this…

She rubbed her eyes and realized her head felt heavy with weariness. How long had she been sitting here, looking at Daniel’s schematics and editing them and adding notes as she saw fit? It had to have been a while, because when Gina looked out of the café windows, she saw that the sun had already fallen low, washing the entire campus in the warm, orangey glow of late afternoon, and stretching the shadows out grotesquely. Only a few people were still in the café, most sleeping. Even the servebots had fallen silent for the most part, only scuttling at times to collect dirty dishes.

Well, there was no point in hanging around. Gina stood up and pushed her chair in, leaving behind her completely emptied coffee mug. She picked up Daniel’s notebook and turned it off, sliding it into her jacket pocket as she did so. Tonight she’d finish looking over the designs, and by lunch time she’d have a list of plausible designs for Daniel. Already, Gina knew that list wouldn’t have the dance partner robots on it.

---------------------------------------

Stick around; Louis will show up in the next scene!

Some thirty miles away from the old suburb where Louis Orson and Peter Corseley had been holding their discussion, in the middle of the vibrant Lendian District of the New World Order’s main metropolis, two college students sat down for lunch.

This is a good introduction. It catches the reader's attention, intrigues them, and does everything that a good intro paragraph should.

The college students were named Gina Wu and Daniel Hopkins, and they were sophomore undergrads at the prestigious Lendian University.

Two things with this:
a) Just say: "The college students, Gina Wu and Daniel Hopkins, were...etc." It flows better and in is easier for the reader to follow along with.
b) Don't say "sophomore undergrads", as this is somewhat repetative. Just say "sophomores", as the undergraduate part can be inferred.

The restaurant they had chosen was a popular establishment with students, a little hole-in-the-wall cafe tucked in the side corner of Lendian’s main shopping plaza. Although small, it received plenty of business, mostly from students like Gina and Daniel who would discuss their studies and classes.

A good simple description of the restaruant, although not an important part of the story, the description helps the reader picture what goes on. Kudos.

“You have the invites?” said Daniel, an undisguised note of eagerness to his voice. He leaned forward in his seat in a barely perceptible motion.

“Of course,” said Gina, smiling at Daniel. She reached for the battered satchel plopped on the booth beside her, but her attention was snapped from it by the sound of a servebot whirring over to the booth, and startling her with a series of loud, officious clicks.

“Welcome to the Calvert Café, sir, madam. Would you like to place an order?” it said, the words flat and inflectionless. An audible click could be heard after every syllable.

“Oh—of course!” said Daniel. “Um, I’d like an iced mint mocha. And you, Gina--?”

“A vanilla latte, please,” said Gina.

“You’re so predictable, Gina,” said Daniel, an impish smirk twitching at the corners of his lips, resting his chin on his hands as he surveyed Gina across the table. “You always get the same thing, without fail, every time.”

“So?” said Gina, unable to prevent the defensive note that had slipped into her voice. “That way, I know what to expect. I’m not like you, Daniel—I can’t believe you actually drank that disgusting banana-fish concoction…”

“That was healthy, though,” said Daniel, smiling in a satisfied manner. “And besides, I think it’s good to have a bit of variety in your life, right?”

“Daniel—” began Gina, though she didn’t know why she was trying to argue this point with her companion. She’d long accepted the multiple differences between herself and Daniel, and didn’t bother trying to reconcile them—their similarities, and their strengths, far outweighed any cosmetic differences.

Gina was distracted from whatever indignant diatribe she’d been about to embark on by the sound of the servebot’s officious clicking. She whirled around, startled, her long ponytail whipping behind her, to face it. If she hadn’t known better, she’d almost think that the look in the servebot’s large, dull eyes was one of vague resentment.

“Would you like anything else, sir, madam?” it said. Click click click click click, click click. Gina had to keep herself from wincing with each click—she should be used to it by now, but it still bothered her. To her, it almost sounded as if there was a ticking time bomb hidden deep within the servebot’s sleek metal body.

“No,” said Daniel. “That’ll be all, thank you.”

“Thank you for doing business with the Calvert Café.” The servebot issued a standard flat, click-laden preprogrammed phrase, before swiveling around (with another audible click), lowering its metal arms in an awkward, disjointed, almost dreamlike manner down to its side, and scooting off again along its preprogrammed track, with all the grace of a trolley car clanking its way down a track it had only a tenuous attachment to. Gina watched the servebot go, her dark eyes sharp and intent, disapproval forming in her mind.

“Look at it,” she hissed, leaning across the table Daniel to address her companion in a low, fierce whisper. “It’s so cumbersome! Look at the jerky angles, the way it moves. That track must be over a decade old! Not to mention metal tracks are just inefficient in the first place; do you remember what Professor Maddox was talking about in class, about those new magnetized laser track systems—”

“Of course, Gina,” said Daniel in his calm, even way, watching the disappear with a loud whirr into the café’s kitchen. “But it’s only a restaurant servebot. You shouldn’t expect anything cutting-edge from it.”

Gina paused to think about this and realized that Daniel had a valid point. “You’re right,” she said, no small amount of contriteness to her voice, pushing her black hair behind her ears and looking away from Daniel. When she looked back at Daniel, she found he was no longer watching the servebot, but surveying her with a gentle smile.

That was Daniel—always so friendly and kind and amicable, nothing like the more quiet and reclusive Gina. His smile was calm and his features boyish and gentle, green eyes twinkling with a playful light and brown hair swept back in the style popular amongst hot-shot urbanite university students. Gina herself found it strange that she and Daniel had struck up such a harmonious friendship, given their different personalities and backgrounds. Gina had been born to a family that had sent its children to Lendian ever since the university’s founding—unusual, to be able to claim an actual “history” in the age of the New World Order—and Daniel…well, no one knew anything about Daniel’s origins. Daniel himself refused to say. Gina herself suspected an exotic origin for him—maybe he even came from the East—but since Daniel didn’t talk about it or seem to want to, Gina had the sense to not inquire.

But Gina felt that she knew the reason why she and Daniel had become such close friends, possibly best friends. It was because out of everyone in Lendian University, they were the only ones who could possibly relate to and understand each other. Gina knew that she would have never been able to discuss the efficiency of servebot tracks with any other student.

“You are right that it could be more efficient,” Daniel was saying, an infinite patience caressing his words, elbows resting on the table, “but stop to consider—what use would that be? The servebot works, doesn’t it?”

“Of course,” said Gina. “If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. Dad used to say that all the time…” A small smile spread across her face at the sudden memory.

“Precisely,” said Daniel. “If the servebot works and there’s nothing wrong with it, then trying to ‘fix’ it would be pointless, correct? At the same time, there are a ton of other applications where the latest, most efficient robot equipment could be utilized. Like defusing mines…or robotic rescue workers…I mean, quibbling about an inefficient servebot just seems so—so wasteful, you know?”

“I know, Daniel,” sighed Gina, sinking back in her seat. “I know…no need to pound it in. I’m sorry, okay? It was just an observation.”

Daniel watched her with an undue severity, but only for a moment, before his face lightened and he relaxed again, reclining against his chair and smiling at Gina. “No, my bad, Gina. I didn’t intend for it to come out that way. I was just saying...”

“I—” began Gina, but yet again she was interrupted before she could finish, by the sound of the servebot whirring across the tracks again, this time bearing a metal tray in an aloft arm.

“Your drinks, sir, madam,” clicked the servebot.

“Thank you very much,” said Daniel, as the servebot plucked the drinks off the tray and set them on the table in the delicate, awkward manner of a child afraid to mess up on an important task. Daniel grabbed his iced mocha immediately, and took a long sip from it; Gina, however, was content to let her steaming latte sit, as she knew it’d be too hot for human hands to touch at the moment.

“Thank you very much, sir, madam,” said the servebot, unintentionally repeating Daniel’s words. It lowered its metal head in the faint impression of an awkward bow, and then scooted off again across its track, this time to serve a group of loud-voiced seniors poring over calculus problems.

“Not bad,” said Daniel, a faint, content expression on his face as he took another, more restrained, sip of his mint mocha. “You should try some.”

“No thanks. Mint and me don’t mix,” said Gina, holding up her hands to repudiate Daniel’s friendly offer.

“Oh, Gina, you’re no fun at all,” said Daniel with a gentle laugh, though he didn’t sound very much offended. “So—as I was saying—”

“No, I understand,” said Gina, stirring her coffee and watching the steam rise in lazy curls from it, obscuring her view of Daniel. “You do have a point. I just couldn’t help it. You know?”

“Of course.” Daniel responded with a bright smile. “I’m not certain that I would have done any differently if I was in your place.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” said Gina, arching an eyebrow and surveying Daniel through the steam with a sidelong glance.

“Maybe it is,” agreed Daniel. A pause and then, “I bet…I bet he’s like that too.”

Gina blinked at Daniel, surprised for a brief moment. It was still difficult to see him through the steam, but she could see that he was smiling again. Gina, too, smiled back at him, and jerked her head in a little nod.

“You’re right,” she said. “He probably is. Not that I’d know,” she added with a measure of defensiveness.

“That’s the point. No one knows,” said Daniel, shrugging. The clouds of steam were dissipating now, making it easier for Gina to see Daniel now. For the first time, Daniel bore an almost serious expression, a quiet solemnity having fallen over his boyish face. Gina sat up a little straighter in her chair, recognizing the direction that this conversation was about to take…

“So, Gina,” he said. “The invites.”

“Right…here.” Gina didn’t need Daniel’s prompting to grab the beaten old satchel thrown haphazardly beside her and force it open. The satchel was old and ragged, but Gina had taken pains to organize its contents neatly, so she was able to find what she was looking for in a heartbeat.

“Here,” said Gina, pulling out the two, neatly-folded invites she had placed with infinite care in the innermost pocket of her satchel. They were written on the brand new kind of light-pad—the Mark XVII—Professor Maddox recently introduced to Gina’s class; so new, in fact, that they were only under use so far by government officials and an exclusive echelon of programmers. They were loaded with features and too expensive to have entered mass production…making it rather odd that Gina and Daniel, two college students barely able to cover their debts, would be possess not on but two Mark XVIIs. Gina, however, was impressed not by what they were, but what was written on them.

“Wow, that was surprisingly fast,” said Daniel, and his surprise rang in his voice—a pleasant kind of surprise. “I didn’t think that Professor Maddox would let you…”

“Oh, Professor Maddox is important. He’s got priority,” said Gina, unable to help the swell of pride that had risen within her at these words. “He told me it wouldn’t be a problem getting them—and it really wasn’t.”

“Are these for real?” said Daniel, excitement causing his voice to almost tremble. He reached across the table, holding a hand out in polite expectation, and Gina obliged by placing one light-pad—with infinite care—on Daniel’s open palm.

“If you’re asking if I ran any authenticity tests on them, no,” said Gina. “I mean, Professor Maddox got them for us, who are we to doubt him?”

“Yeah…” said Daniel, though he didn’t sound as if he was paying much attention. His green eyes were focused with a studious concentration on the invite in his hand, and Gina followed suit and glanced down at her own, unable to quell the little bubble of glee that rose in her stomach as she read the elegantly scripted words, crisp black against a white backdrop:

Miss Gina Minhua Wu
You are cordially invited to
The VIIth ANNUAL REISENBERG ROBOTICS AND AUTOMATON SHOWCASE
Sponsored by Dr. Hermann Reisenberg, Dr. Marisol Cosas, Dr. Dwayne M. Emmett
3 August 13 at the Westhall Building 8:00 PM
Featuring Special Guest Speaker
Louis Taylor Orson
Second Genius of the New World Order


Featuring special guest speaker…Louis Taylor Orson…Second Genius of the New World Order…
True, as hopeful programmers, Gina and Daniel did do their best to attend as many robotics seminars and showcases as they could, to see how the professionals modeled and programmed their robots and androids. But this particular showcase had intrigued the two students more than any other so far this year…namely because the Second Genius would be making a rare public appearance, as the showcase’s keynote speaker. The instant Gina had heard, she’d raced over to Professor Maddox and besieged him with heartfelt requests to attend, along with Daniel…please, Professor Maddox, who knows when an opportunity like this will come again…we’ll get to the see the Second Genius in person…please, Professor, I’m sure you can get us access…

After several weeks, Professor Maddox had relented—and just in time. The Reisenberg showcase, after all, would take place this weekend.

In retrospect, Gina supposed she had been a little hard on the poor old professor. Sure he had high standing as a respected programmer, but even that didn’t guarantee him the ability to secure invites for two hapless undergrads of his. Gina felt the situation was almost unfair—she’d been so insistent on getting the invites that she hadn’t stopped to think about what Professor Maddox must be feeling. Suppose he hadn’t been able to secure the invites…? What would he say, then, to his favorite student who’d been pestering him for weeks?

Well, what was done was done, thought Gina, and she had already apologized to Professor Maddox for any hard feelings. The professor, of course, had none—and the look of rapturous joy on Daniel’s face when he’d heard of Gina’s success was enough to exonerate Gina of any of the guilt she still felt about hounding Professor Maddox. They had done it—they were going to the Reisenberg Showcase; they were going to see the Second Genius.

----------------------------

Sorry again for the inopportune cutting-off-point.

Again, I appreciate all criticism...in particular on my prose. It's good awful. *weeps* Part of what made this chapter a little more difficult for me to write is that I have a bit of trouble writing from Gina's POV as opposed to Louis; she's much less fun. Still, she will be the other main POV character, so...yeah.

More will be up soon.

BTW, the invite is supposed to be centered and in a different font. So yeah...I had to italicize it to kind of convey the message. Oh well.[/quote]

OMG, I’m so sorry. I only realized this was posted a couple days ago. *worst reviewer ever* XD Anyway! Let’s get right to it!

Have I mentioned before that I love your characters? Seriously, you are really a master at working with characters and especially the relationships between them—I thought the whole bit where Gina goes over the schematics was really, really brilliant. At the risk of sounding incredibly cheesy, you could really feel the depth and extent of her friendship with Daniel—I loved this bit. In fact, I loved this whole chapter in that aspect—what you’ve managed to capture simply through your characters’ day-to-day interactions.

A few quick prose critiques:

To Gina, it seemed that the Second Genius was content with his hermit-like existence in an abandoned suburb, where he wrote programs and designed androids all day long, almost never disturbing his hermit-like existence to interact with the outside world.

You used “hermit-like existence” twice in this sentence, and the repetition was a little jarring.

“Gina?” Gina jerked up and blinked, startled out of her reverie by the sound of Daniel’s gentle and inquisitive voice.

Bit of a nitpick, but I think the quote should be a separate paragraph.

Daniel had always been calm and reasonable to unflappable extents.

I think all the “-able” adjectives in this sentence makes it read a little awkwardly… something like “Daniel had always been calm and reasonable,” or “Daniel had always been unflappable” might read more smoothly.

and then there were the standards-function, human-shaped androids, with their elegantly flowing hair, straight slim limbs, and bright eyes peering almost—almost—human-like from their sculpted faces.

The “almost—almost—human” bit got me thinking a little bit… wouldn’t an android like that come off as a little Uncanny Valley-ish? (Designs that are really, really close to looking human, but not quite there, tend to come off as a little creepy, that’s why people find that those ventriloquist dummies, for example, creep them out). Just sort of wondering.

The design Gina was looking at wouldn’t do that, the student thought ruefully.

I think it might be less awkward to just say “she” instead of the student, because my first reaction was “What student?”

Brilliant work as ever, I look forward to the next chapter. ^_^