distinctvaguens

Chris Rasuner, age fourteen, was mildly irritated as he did his calculus homework. After he finished this lesson, he planned to go back to fiddling with an invention of his. His hand slid through his short brown hair as he struggled to focus on the work before him. With a breakthrough itching at his brain, he closed his textbook and set it aside. He sniffled and pushed his blue glasses back up his nose. The pencil was placed down, so it was lined up with the other pencils on the desk. He stood from his chair.

Being home schooled and brilliant meant he could work on his schooling at an accelerated schedule whenever he wished. He considered himself a genius, although I.Q. tests would state otherwise. Chris did not believe the tests were a true measure of ability, so he did not let that bother him. He thought no one could really understand him; he knew he was meant for greatness.

After tucking in the loose folds of his shirt back behind his belt, he picked up a small remote sized device. He tinkered in his spare time between school and reading. The device he held in his hands would one day allow people to travel through time, once he worked out a few more of the quantum calculations. Chris had looked up to many scientists of the past until he realized for himself that many of those people had been wrong when trying to decode the cosmos. For example, light was not a constant.

Being incredibly resistant to manipulation did not make something a constant. With some rare materials in conjunction with the proper subatomic excitement, light rays could be bent like wet noodles. This would force spatial anomalies allowing for slipping between overlaps in a tangled timeline. Right now, the black remote merely made a faint humming sound. It was really more for effect than anything else; he had at least accomplished the menacing aspect required of a strange invention.

He lacked the proper connections to get a hold on the radioactive materials he was looking for and there were none to be found on EBay. Just looking at the round red button made him feel empowered. His face twisted with an evil grin; he was not maniacal, but the feeling of power was intoxicating. He imagined how he would take revenge on those who irked him. But then, he realized he did not have that many enemies at all. He really only had a few acquaintances, and even fewer friends. He did not get out very often. Chris compressed the button several more times. Nothing happened, nothing ever happened.

It was not finished now, and it was not likely to be finished for some time. Idly, he looked at his small mechanism. “Why did the button have to be red?” He wondered to himself as he shuffled through the desk drawer for a screwdriver. He was contemplating reopening the gadget and reexamining the many components he had put in so far when he heard a loud thud. Chris screamed in a not so manly way and fumbled the device onto the floor as he turned around. There he saw a man in his early twenties kneeling on the floor, facing the room’s closed door. A man had just appeared in the center of his room. Out of nowhere!

Chris’s eyes went wide, “Who? What? How!” The last word was heightened from a crack in the young teenager’s voice. The man wore a black coat over a white shirt and dark jeans and sneakers. He stood to face Chris with one arm out, palm open, and the other hand in his coat pocket. He had black wavy hair that drooped over his blue eyes, and chapped lips outlined by a scraggly beard. Speaking in a gruff voice, he said, “Please calm down Chris.” Chris was further surprised.

“How do you know my name? Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in?” the questions that had been stuck in Chris’s throat came spilling out. The intruder looked around the clean white room then surveyed Chris himself with a slight sense of awe, slowly overcoming his dour expression.

“I need help. And hopefully you can provide it.” Chris tried not to appear startled by the man and let the feeling of pride at being asked for help by someone older than him overtake his fear. Usually people older than him were prudish and looked down on him, thinking they were oh-so-wise simply because they had been born before him.

“I still am not quite sure I understand.” Chris said, “What is your problem?” The man in black flicked his hair out of his eyes.

“I’ll explain, I can tell you are a genius and you have some impressive skills already. I got here…” he paused momentarily. “I ended up here by accident.” He slowly pulled a small, shiny, black, baseball-sized globe from his pocket, hoping not to not to scare Chris again.

It had only one distinctive feature, a round red button. “You see this device…” the foreigner began but was interrupted. “I made that!” Chris picked up his own version of the machine.

Chris smiled “That must mean my time travel device works eventually.” he said more to himself than the stranger. “I knew it. I knew it! What then Einstein? How’s your theory of relativity doing now?” He stopped his taunting and continued. “So then, you must be a traveler in search of my infinite knowledge. I am sure I can find time in my busy schedule to chat with you. I am surprised that you made it to this point in time because I was convinced that one could only time travel to the first point when a… I’m sorry. What did you want?”

The intruder was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “You done? Ok. Sorry to burst your bubble kid, but I’m not a time traveler. And that device…” he pointed to Chris’s hand, “Is not this device.” He held up the sphere. Listen to me. I have been jumping around, always ending up in this room…” Chris interrupted again. “But you are using my device, it just must be a later version obviously, and then you lived in this house, in your time, correct?”

“Yes and-” the man tried to redirect the conversation but Chris continued. “Therefore, you must have moved in and found a working model in my room. I wonder-”
“Shut up!”

The stranger stepped closer. “You are wrong. I am not a time traveler and I never lived in your house. I don’t think you have the story straight, but let’s just say that’s true or whatever. I have to get back home. You look like you have the brains to do it even if you lack any amount of social aptitude.”

“Well the remote works when-”Chris began.
“I know how it works! Do you know how I can go back to where I came from?” the intruder interrupted and Chris changed topics.

“I would assume that it would be very difficult to return to the point of the origin of your journey unless you had used a beacon system to relatively locate yourself to. But you probably didn’t do that did you Mr…”

“Bobby. Call me Bobby. And I didn’t leave a beacon.”

“Well then, I’ll need to know exactly what time you came from.” Chris said evenly.

“You are not listening to me! I am travelling through dimensions!” Bobby jumped back in, only for Chris to respond with, “Time is a dimension silly.”

Bobby slapped his face in exasperation. “Ok, I am going to talk really slowly now so you can follow me. I am going from reality to reality because of this stupid device. Not just through time, through some spatial rift. You’re surprisingly dense.” He said with some odd hand motions trying to convey his plight.

Chris finally understood. “Oh, you mean you are travelling through the multiverse and ending up in alternate timelines?”

Bobby threw his hands up in the air. “Yes! And hopefully you can overcome this silly state of shock so you can actually help me.”

“So what is it like? These other dimensions?” Chris was intrigued and distracted again.

Bobby rolled his eyes and decided it should not make much difference if he explained some of his journeys. “I think that I end up going to timelines very similar to the one I left from, and I always end up in this room. If there were drastic changes, I suppose I would drop in where the room is supposed to be. But I think the multiverse has some way of making sure I don’t end up in a wall or dying. Really there are an infinite number of places I could go but because they all share common elements it makes me wonder…” Bobby stopped himself from rambling. “Nevertheless, this room is usually different each jump. Different decorations and furniture, you know? And most of the time I have to deal with someone who is very unhappy that I popped into their room. That is always interesting; I never know what to expect.”

“How so?” Chris inquired.
“Well one time I showed up while a woman was changing and another time-” “Was she pretty?” Chris interjected.

Bobby frowned. “Whoa there!” he said looking embarrassed. “I am not out there to be some kind of weirdo; I just want to get home.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Chris said coyly.

“Kid, just stop thinking about it. Enough stories, help me out already.” Bobby pleaded.

Chris pondered the situation for a moment more, then spoke. “I’ll need to make a display screen that can access the information on that device and if it was built with a way to keep track of where it has been; then we can use that.”

Chris pulled out some wires and a Gameboy from his desk. He stretched out his hand, wanting the device. Bobby hesitated. “Promise me you won’t push the button. The last thing I need is to be stuck here when you bounce off somewhere else.” Chris looked earnestly at the invention but then realized the logic of Bobby’s statement.

“I promise.” He said as he took the black sphere and rotated it looking for a place to plug in his jury-rigged equipment. He hinged open a small panel and looked at the jack in the rear. It was the perfect match for the adapted socket in his hand. He plugged it in, forgetting the coincidence. On the small game boy screen a menu appeared. Chris flicked through the menus looking for the right data.

Bobby bit at one of his fingernails and was about to toss the piece at the trashcan beside him, but instead, he looked at it thoughtfully before putting it in his pocket. Chris shouted, “Aha! Here it is. Wow, there are over a hundred jumps here. And the time discrepancy adds up to over two years!”

“How can you know that?” Bobby said surprised. He tried to look at the screen from his position but it was impossible to read from this angle.

Chris explained that the screen listed ordered triplets. “Here, this one is always the same.” he looked back at the screen looking for more information. “Oh, I get it! It is a larger equation with the first three usual dimensions used as variables. That must be the marked location. But this can’t be Euclidian geometry because this universe is moving in space.” The numbers before him were astounding. “I bet I could figure out more of this if I had the time. Evidently whoever made this never figured out how to manipulate location.”

Bobby nodded in agreement “I bet you could kid, but there is a lot of empty space for one to land in if one were to mess up. But back to the task at hand if you please.” He said straining not to become frustrated.

Chris understood and continued to explain, “Oh, right. The other variables have to do with time apparently, and this last one determines which reality you end up in.” Chris was stupefied by this invention before him, noting that each variable was formed by more equations and variables. “Are you sure you have to go back? I really want to look at this more.”

Bobby outstretched his hand and sternly said, “I’m sorry, I can’t let you do that. Please give it back before you get any wild ideas.” Chris reluctantly handed over the globe and game boy. Bobby looked at the screen and asked a leading question. “So if I wanted to go back to a specific place?” Chris responded, “You would select it in the menu and input the coordinates into the appropriate variable to travel to that destination value. I think.”

“You think? Is that all you can tell me?” Bobby said concerned.

“Hey it’s not my invention. I can give you my best guess and something might go horribly wrong, but I’m giving you the best chance you can have right?” Chris stated

“Presumably.” Bobby conceded before Chris started talking again. “But anyways, those coordinates should be the first jump on the list, so it shouldn’t be hard to find.” Bobby nodded and started sliding through the menus.

“And if I wanted to go to a different place I have already visited?” he said attempting an air of casualness, wanting a reply. “I thought you wanted to go home, to where you started.” Chris said confused.

“Yeah, Yeah, I am speaking hypothetically here, of course.” Bobby nonchalantly said. “Well if you knew how many jumps had taken place it was between locations, you could choose that set of data instead. Or if I had time to learn about this device…” he said desiring another chance to examine the information on the probe.

“I’ll settle for the first option should I need to travel somewhere in particular.” Bobby took a step back to give himself some space. He pushed a few more buttons on the Gameboy and hovered his finger over the red button. “See you around.” He said smiling. With a small hop, and a push of the button, he vanished. No loud noises, no flash of light; he left as he arrived. Chris looked at the empty space where the other man had stood. “Hey! He took my Gameboy.”

Bobby thumped down in his own room and twisted to face the door in case it was the wrong room. He stood and joyously realized he was home. He was finally back. Well, technically, they were all really his room, but this was the room he decorated himself; with its posters of rock bands and his trash scattered around, just as he remembered it.

“You made it back!” A voice said beside him. Bobby turned to see a man in his late teens sitting on Bobby’s bed. “Hey I didn’t say you could sit on my bed.” Bobby said, putting the round device in his pocket with the Gameboy. Chris stood up, “When you think about it. It’s my bed too. I shouldn’t need to ask for permission to use my own stuff.” He said pushing up his stylish glasses.

“I don’t think it works that way.” Bobby responded.

“Whatever. We’re not so different. You look older and more unkempt than when you left. How did you make it back anyway?”

Bobby looked at the older Chris with a smirk. “I found you.”

Chris looked puzzled. “You are you and me, and I am you and me. What do you mean? You helped yourself?”

“That wasn’t a philosophical comment. I mean I found you.” Bobby pointed at Chris. “It was a few years ago. You were probably thirteen or so.” he continued.

“Wait a minute you went… And your appearance and… Do you happen to have… a Gameboy?” Bobby pulled out the globe and the purple toy from his large coat pocket, “You mean this?”

“Oh my goodness!” Chris covered his mouth as he jumped up in shock. “You’re the guy who called yourself Bobby who popped into my room five years ago!”

“Yeah I would think that was obvious.” Bobby said coldly.

“I didn’t recognize you because you didn’t have the beard and I made 49 jumps of my own before getting here. I’m an idiot, Bobby. Let me guess, Bobby is a nickname short for our middle name, Robert. You were me back then too! I never realized it!”

“Yes. And?”

“I created the next model of the black sphere you are holding after the black sphere you were holding back then. That means…” Chris put his hand on his chin.

“You modeled your own invention on your own invention.” Bobby filled in.

“Unbelievable!” Chris exclaimed.

“That’s why I suspected it would work when I found you, back then, that is. I may be a punk, but I am just as smart as you are. I am you, remember?” Bobby joked.

“I wouldn’t say that. We’re very much different.” Chris said mockingly.

“Well I did say it. So that explains why there was a menu screen and wiring that connected so perfectly.” Bobby mused. “You designed a device to replicate your device and therefore created the device which you saw in the past.”

“Stop. Stop. Now my head hurts. And to think you were willing to trust a time loop like that?” Chris paused and Bobby looked at him.

“I knew it would work when I remembered how you told me that this was your 50th jump. You said a few things to me before I left, remember? From there, everything was in place.”

“Well you were the first duplicate of me to take any interest in what I was doing rather than freak out, so I told you; but I told you too much.” Chris said.

“You were the one foolish enough to hand me the device after only talking to me for ten minutes.” Bobby countered.

“I didn’t think you would be foolish enough to test it without all the parts.” Chris said pulling a silver hand held data pad out of his jeans.

“I didn’t think it would have mattered. But anyway I learned my lesson, I got what I deserved and all that. But…”

“So is this fate? Or the multiverse’s way of controlling us.” said one.
“I don’t know.” said the other.
“By the way, Past You is a brat.” Robert said.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I was a bit of a know-it-all. Now I feel like I hardly know the half of it.
“Hmm…” Bobby looked at the clock radio on his desk and noticed it was a few minutes after he had left this room so long ago. Puzzled, he spoke, “Wait is it still July 24, 2062?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t check a calendar in your world. But you were only gone for five minutes at most. I had barely sat on your bed before you came back.” Chris answered.

“That’s peculiar. I was gone for a year at least, jumping from word to world, and I used the coordinates for the exact moment I left this room the first time. Why did I not return to that exact moment?”

“You mean the moment when you stole the device from me, that is.” Chris said snidely.

“I guess you underestimated yourself.” Bobby said with a smile.

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Chris said dryly. “But about the time difference, evidently, the time equation in there is not quite as precise as I thought it was. That would explain how you found the younger version of me anyways. But I’ll make sure to look into it when I go back to my reality.” Chris said with an inflection asking for his device back. Bobby held out the small black sphere wired to the Gameboy.

“That is quite worrying if you think about it. So what would happen if you end up back in the time before you leave?” Bobby asked.

“Well I may consider stopping myself from ever going on this crazy adventure and see if that doesn’t destroy the space time continuum.” Chris said with a smirk. “But I have a feeling that I will not have that problem.” Chris unplugged the Gameboy and replaced it with the sleeker silver-colored apparatus. He scrolled down the list to the first of his jumps and put the Gameboy in his pocket. He moved to another open area of the room. He was done exploring other dimensions for now. Chris had boldly gone into strange new worlds on an adventure of a lifetime, but now he needed to process what he had learned and improve his device. He was about to leave when an idea hit him. “You know Bobby, I really don’t know if the hop I do before jumps are really necessary.”

Bobby contemplated the thought. “Hmmm… Well I mimicked you, and I don’t think now is any time to start experimenting.”

“Too true.” Chris said as he hopped up and did not come back down, in Bobby’s room that is.

(Okay this one is from about 2 years ago, and looking back, I think the narration can use some work. Also i think this story feels somewhat rushed.

If at the beginning you are upset that Chris is somewhat Sueish that's somewhat intended. He thinks he's all that, and the rest of the story points out he isn't a perfect little genius. His arrogance is a character flaw and I know that probably doesn't come through well. The technobabble at the beginning is a bit silly but it isn't supposed to be correct, it is the immature, arrogant Chris's flawed technobabble. So the beginning might be kinda rough and I don't want it to turn reader's away. I might need to rework that.

People have told me this story is confusing or too vague. I think I basically spelled it all out there at the end. In the first draft of this story that final conversation was extremely brief. I extended it and they say all that needs to be said as far as I can tell.

As always, I welcome comments and criticism.)

Extracted from the data-chip found in a small robotic L-type rocket:

206785693792.8572.87.10006.32213.58391.112

One day maybe someone will read this. However, even if they don’t, it’s making me feel better by writing it all down. My current plan is to leave this in a safe place so that when all this is over posterity can learn from our mistakes.

On this rock, we are out of water. Don’t get me wrong, there still is water, but not for people like me. Me, I’m a just a regular guy. But, like I said, there is no water for me, not without severe cost or dire risk. To say I am thirsty would be an understatement. My parents tried to tell me it was my lot in life, and “be content” with the droplets I had, but I knew. I knew there were some aristocrats cloistered in their little caves able to bathe daily! In water!

Sorry, let me back up, my name is Sergius. I live on Desik 8. Obviously, that is the eighth planet in the Desik system. No other colonies exist on the other Desik planets. Yet Desik 8 was in an ideal position for human life, even if the quality of living is poor. The arrangement of the stellar system, the gravity, the atmosphere, the air, you know. It is Hell for us. A cool, humid, green Hell, but a Hell nonetheless. When I say green, images of lush forests and fields may come to mind, but there are none of those on Desik 8. The dirt and rocks themselves are green in hue, and from that green dirt, nearly no life can grow. Certain types of plants were brought here to handle the unusual terrain. Our bread comes from a genetically altered grain that hardly needs water. Even still, these farms barely give us enough food to make our meals. We plant, tend and water when we can afford. We wait and watch and they grow and develop. At the opportune time, we pick and store. If we are lucky, we have enough to sell to the less lucky neighbors. If we are unlucky, we get ripped off when we need to buy from the lucky neighbors.

I have yet to explain the water situation, forgive me. This planet has very little groundwater. There is only one known lake on this entire planet! And understandably, the first colony to Desik 8 was built up near that lake. Well about 70 years have passed since the founding of the first colony, and there are now about six major outposts on this planet. As far as I know, this planet was to be mined for several varieties of its odd green rocks, which have some special chemical compound or whatever so rare, so unique, that people would pay exorbitant amounts of money for this resource. I would pay that same price to never see one of those rocks again. My parents were told they would be rich. They were told they would be comfortable and safe. They were lied to.

A few years after they arrived, the Stellar Storm came through. Extreme doses of radiation swept through the entire Desik system. The thick atmosphere of Desik 8 saved us from a quick death by cosmic rays, leaving us to a slow death by conflict and contention. And that caused by our newfound isolation. Over 1.4 million people lived on Desik 8 at the beginning of our celestial exile. Last I heard, we are a population of less than 100 thousand. But, I must admit, I have no idea where that number came from or how they got it. Maybe a few satellites with thermal scanning technology are still in orbit and someone had access to them. Maybe it was estimate, maybe it was a guess. I don’t know. But regardless, it is glaringly obvious to all that we are dying, dying from thirst, dying from hunger, and dying from the hands of our fellow man.

As I briefly mentioned, there is one fresh water lake on this planet and 99.9% of Desik 8’s population has no access to it. The bureaucrats make sure of that. Let me explain, the political leaders at the time of the Stellar Storm’s onset declared it would be for everyone’s own good that the small government of the small planet take absolute control of who could have access to Lake Eno.

(Oh yeah, I should tell you about the legend of how it got that name. In case it isn’t apparent enough, it’s “one” backwards. When they starting surveying this planet it was called Lake 1, and each other lake was to be numbered off as they were found. No other lakes were found. One of the surveyors thought that having only one lake named “lake one” would be silly; so in a great creative stroke of brilliance, he decided to call it Lake Eno.)

Lake Eno was enclosed with a fence, and guards were placed around its circumference. This was to prevent any person from polluting the planet’s only source of fresh water. With the Stellar Storm raging through our neck of the galaxy, no one could guess how long it would be before any other supplies came to us. Some top scientists of the time made the claim that the radiation would kill anyone trying to leave this planet and that no thickness of any material would prevent the radiation from destroying whomever or whatever attempted to come or go. The government created a Water Distribution Service (WDS), which would be responsible for transporting tanks of water to the colonies and outposts. It worked fine for a while, as far as I have heard.

But, as time went on, people grew discontent with the rationing. They demanded more for their crops and their personal consumption. The WDS attempted to provide greater rations of water but realized if that pattern continued the lake would become dry. Lake Eno slowly refilled as a result of precipitation. A spider web of canals was created to channel more rainwater from surrounding areas into Lake Eno. Some purification technology had to be used to clean the water from toxic chemicals that hung in the upper atmosphere. Only a few of these purifiers had been brought to Desik 8 from another planet. Some technicians spent years trying to recreate more of those devices from materials on hand, but they couldn’t handle the same volume of water that the originals could.

So the entire area surrounding the lake, about 3600 square Tarmos, was quarantined by the government for the WDS. People were outcast from the settlements near Lake Eno. “It was for the greater good!” they told everyone. “Renovations were being made to the area so everyone could have more water!” The people complied and left. The WDS improved their distribution and everyone seemed to be getting happier.

Eventually, word leaked out that the water level in Lake Eno was still dropping. The efforts had been in vain. Nothing could be done to supply the 1.4 million people of Desik 8 with clean water. The government denied many accusations that the WDS would have to cut rations, but the inevitable did happen. The furthest settlements on Desik 8, Oullier, Saffide, and Tindast were the first to lose their WDS privileges. They were informed, in politely worded letters, that the WDS would be discontinuing its service to them because they were so far away, and the WDS had to make cutbacks to help deal with the situation. They were told that they could commute to other settlements to receive their usual ration.

However, when the people of these settlements journeyed to obtain what they had been promised, they were told, again politely, by a WDS regional supervisor, that no one was aware of such arrangements. After coming so far, nothing could stop them from crossing that last barrier. Riots broke out, people sweated. The frenzy for life fueling liquids resulted in an overturned tank and a great waste. At least 1000 Humtays of water were spilled across the green dirt. Many a passerby dropped to their knees with a splash, cupped their hands and drank what they could. It sounds too good to be true, that this could be possible, but legend holds that there were a few that died that day from DRINKING TOO MUCH!

My apologies, I let my emotions get away from me. I’m going to leave that small outburst there and just keep on writing.

After that fiasco, the WDS clamped its grip on the hose even tighter. Rations lowered again and people started facing serious dehydration problems. Pleas and protests emerged, but the WDS still lowered rations, again. They maintained that disagreeing with their methods would only result in harsher regulations and less water provisions. Gradually they got their way. The people relied on what little water they could get from the WDS, and those in power knew it.

When no method of rationing would work to distribute water free of charge, they made the most heinous decision possible. The people would have to pay for their water. The WDS could no longer be a charity relief effort. The price seemed meager at first, but that did not last. Once they realized they could demand whatever price they willed, the amount for water soared. My parents and many others did what they could to afford the water, even selling portions of their property to get half a Humtay.

One day when someone asked, “How do they expect us to pay?” The grim revelation came to them. My father turned to his friend. “They don’t.” Who knows how many understood what was truly happening? The WDS was making a killing, in more than one way. They would become beyond wealthy; obtaining everything the inhabitants of Desik 8 owned for want of a drink. And at the same time, they would solve the problem of too little water by solving the problem of too many people. They meant to exterminate those who could not pay. They raised the prices so more could not pay. It would only be a matter of time before the issue of rationing could be solved. They did what they had to, and we hated them for it.

Everyone built devices and contraptions to ring the humid air for its vapor, but none were good enough. As time went on, graves were dug in the green ground, shallow as possible to conserve their energy. Sweating was a death wish. The depressing planet soon became much more sinister. Because the government did what they had to, the people did what they had to. Crime rate isn’t a percent, it’s a routine. People spread out to take their own corner of the world and flee the large crime infested settlements and cities. My parents moved into a plot of land far from any neighbors and set up a farm. We had a rain catcher and a few moisture nets to sustain us, but we barely get by.


The richest of the rich moved to the walled-in area around Lake Eno, and gossip claims they have all they could ever want there. They bought the safety and assurance of having a future; we must fight each day for ours. Eventually the WDS completely abandoned us. No price could buy a glass of water. They must have done their calculations, and the numbers must have told them the Lake Eno community needed every last drop. The hose was cut. We were left to die. Parch them.

We live a sedentary life as best as we can. To move is to use energy. When we use energy to do work, we deplete our bodies’ internal water. We restore that by both eating and drinking. It is rare that we can do either of the two, so it should be rare that we work. I am nearly a full-grown man but I am short and skinny compared to what is expected from a normal human. Some of that may have to do with growing up and living on Desik 8, but most of it probably has to do with malnutrition and malhydration.

My father tends to the farm with my mother’s help, and she tends to the water acquirers with my help. Other than that, most every day, I lie around and stare at the ceiling. I think about a lot. I think about what life must be like on other planets. I think about how I could possibly get off this one. And if I can’t leave, how I could improve my life here? My family’s lives? Everyone’s lives? I usually can’t think of anything. Oh, I can dream and plot up ways to overthrow the Lake Eno quarantine but I have neither the means nor the materials. I might just be doomed to lie here until I die here. What difference does it make? That is the question I think about the most. The main drive I have is founded on survival, simply to spite the fate they have ordained for me.
 
(This was somewhat written in the style of a prologue, but I probably would turn the events described into the actual story with some minor changes. So it’s like an outline in disguise. I wrote this about a year ago, way before Occupy Wall Street, and now seeing that 99.9% stat mentioned seems odd. This was not intended to be political or allegorical, just the setting for a desperate story. What do you guys think? Did you get a feel for the place and the mood I attempted to evoke? Would you like to see this turned into a story or just be the prologue for a different tale?)

My prediction list: (Post some of your own in the comments, I’ll add them to the list and check them off as we go.)
I was writing this last night as I was tired, so some might be repeated by accident. I’ll check
 
Brom will come back to life[_]
Eragon will get new powers[_]
Saphira will get new powers[_]
Eragon will pass out at least 6 times[_]
There will be stilted poetry[_]
Eragon and arya will end up together[_]
Murtagh will either be turned good again or [_]
pull a redemption equals death[_]
Galby will be killed by Eragon[_]
Solembums prophecies will be deus ex machina[_]
Angela’s prophecies will come true and we will be forcefully reminded as they are[_]
Brom’s magic words from book one will be deus ex machina[_]
More deus ex machinas to be added then abused[_]
Saphira will say stupid "philisophical" nonsense[_]
Arya will say stupid "philisophical" nonsense[_]
Eragon will say stupid "philisophical" nonsense[_]
true names will be important but never explained well and used as the plot demands. [_]
Eragon can perform any and all magic as the plot demands[_]
Geography will not make sense [_]
Physics will not be obeyed[_]
Material will seem eerily familiar[_]
We will get bored in the middle if not sooner[_]
Possibly due to illogical boring politics[_]
Or possibly flawed shallow religion[_]
Or infodumps[_]
Or the unrelatable characters[_]
eragon will meet god or gods[_]
possibly after a heroic sacrificial death [_]
only to be brought back to life[_]
with no character development to show for it[_]
When Eragon acts like a sociopath enjoying remorseless violence[_]
or not show proper emotion connection to his surroundings[_]
or in conversations. [_]
Yet complaining about trivial things and valuing human life in a ploy to seem sensitive. [_]
Oh are Arya too [_]
At least 3 minor important characters will die[_]
At least 2 will give speeches in the process[_]
I’m guessing one of those random author’s darlings (Elva, Bladesomething, Wolfsomething) [_]
Saphira and Eragon will live[_]
Also
I think Angela is going to be important that recent interview seemed to
indicate she more sooper spechulz tan previously thought [_]
I think we know Roran is going to be assumed dead for a portion of the book but it will never be believable. [_]
Nor will any "tense" moments[_]
Because it will be artificially induced [_]
Possibly by characters stupidity or irrational responses[_]
and the fact Eragon can always pull a miracle out of his butt[_]
breaking previously established rules[_]
Elves Drawves and humans will join forces for a final battle[_]
New
dragon egg will hatch to Arya or Roran. Probably Arya so they can be a
pair of pair and true loves dragons and riders [_] (heaves)
Good guys are liked and bad guys are disliked ugly and deserving of their fate[_]
Except when they get a forced pity party at the end of their lives[_]
Thesauruses (thesaruri?) will be abused at least a dozen times possibly incorrectly[_]
Or even plain words used incorrectly[_]
or turned purple with stilted metaphors for no good reason[_]
And fake words in his "languages" will be inserted for no good reason breaking flow. [_]
Weapons will be thrown[_]
single tears will be shed[_]
generic locations will be generic locations[_]
generic races will be generic races [_]
unless they act bizarrely without explanation[_]
talk of destiny and free will goes all wobbly [_]
Continuity? What continuity?[_]
chapter names spoiling the chapter[_]
horrible leadership from the good guys[_]
rational leadership from the bad guys[_]
important things being forgetten about just cuz[_]
Things getting thrown in just cuz they look cool [_]
Or fake culture with odd names[_]
All horses are stallions[_]
We get a speech in the book outlining major problems with the series but it is brushed aside with poor excuses [_]
Who
will replace Galby? Eragon? Would paolinni really do that? self-insert
ruling the world? maybe I'm guessin he'll bow out to whoever is in
charge of the varden, Naustic right? Maybe Roran cuz he's "such a great
leader" random speeches and a nice family. Yeah it's Roran. [_]
But otherwise Eragon is the only one true savior for the world. [_]
and everyone looks up to him for no good reason. [_]
Unless they don't and hes surprised they dont[_]
paolinnis male friendships still seem homoerotic. [_]
More Urgals or all of them will join Eragon. [_]
Eragon will never care about Arya beyond her pretty looks[_]
leaps in logic that could clear the grand canyon. [_]
stealing from or even killing bad guys is okay[_]
or their servants and associates[_]
bad guys show up randomly as the plot demands. [_]
chapters where nearly nothing happens[_]
characters stating things that are not true or never shown to be true[_]
Anti-religion in favor of logic yet pseudo religious references[_]
Eragon and the varden are just as ruthless and evil as the  empire if not worse yet continue to be self-righteous. [_]
Sloan
will be grateful for all that crap eragon put him through even if sloan
has never done anything to deserve the Eragon’s sick torture. [_]
 
And now for something completely different:
Now
I might be crazy, but I think Paolini is crazy enough to do it. What if
Morzan and Brom are the same person... It sounds ridiculous and flies
in the face of many things said so far but a few things seem to point to
some further mystery around who Brom is. (that poem from Eragon’s elf
mentor about eragon’s father. Brom's actions never made sense anyway.
Murtagh joined right after Brom died so idk how that fits we can never
judge by how people act emotionally.) Maybe its just left over from when
Morzan was meant to be Eragons father or something but I'm still
suspicious Paolini would do something like this. Or at least intended
too. It oddly fits if this will have imitation Star Wars plot
elements[_]
Or along those lines Gallby is Eragons grandfather or
somehow connected to eragon’s family. didn't galby visit the spine area
once? [_]
This is like guessing the ending of Saw or those shamalayan
movies. Will it be get a twist so obvious we see it coming a mile away,
or one so unobvious it's stupid and illogical?
 
Honestly I think
the only way this book could impress me is if it turned is whole
premise on its head and the Varden are in fact the bad guys and
Galbatorix is a decent guy and Eragon regrets everything. If the book
basically turned around and mocked itself for all the flaws from before
but I don't think that can happen.
 
Oh and if you turn this into a drinking game I am not responsible for your imminent death.