{"id":14311,"date":"2024-06-22T16:11:43","date_gmt":"2024-06-22T23:11:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/?p=14311"},"modified":"2025-01-06T09:58:25","modified_gmt":"2025-01-06T17:58:25","slug":"reading-big-germs-at-sf-in-sf-print-sale","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/2024\/06\/22\/reading-big-germs-at-sf-in-sf-print-sale\/","title":{"rendered":"Reading “Big Germs” at SF in SF."},"content":{"rendered":"

This is the text of \u201cBig Germs,\u201d\u009d a strongly anti-gun story that I read\u00a0 at the SF in SF gathering in San Francisco on Sunday, June 23, 2024. This post appears on Medium<\/em><\/a> as well. And you can hear a podcast version<\/a>. One more option is that you can read a longer and more polished\u00a0 version of \u201cBig Germs\u201d\u009d that appeared in BoingBoing<\/a><\/em> on May 22, 2024.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve dreamed of this story for so long, and now it\u2019s over. And I don\u2019t think it\u2019s too short. The quick hit feels right. The idea is that two young women conjure up some ethereal jelly-bag critters evolved from human blood cells\u2014these are the big germs of the title. The big germs have minds, and they reproduce, and you can talk with them. The women ask the big germs to zap all the guns and weapons in the world and turn them all into dust. End of problem.<\/p>\n

So good to have that story done after thinking about it for so long. It was wonderful to regain my writing mojo and once again to revel in my craft.<\/p>\n

No idea what I might write next, and not gonna fret over it yet.<\/p>\n

To liven up my post I\u2019ve pasted in some more-or-less random images, mostly of my paintings.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Zoe sits on the steps behind her family\u2019s house. Her dog Bowser lies flopped on the damp earth. It\u2019s April in California. Zoe savors the neighborhood sounds, copying her sensations and her comments to an uvvy patch on the back of her neck. An uvvy is a type of tweaked sea slug, and uvvies grant their users a sort of telepathy, which is called teep.<\/p>\n

Zoe is making a tangle, based on sights, smells, sounds, and memory flashes. The process? She elaborates her inputs into a virtual quilt. And then, to make it a tangle, she wraps a flow around the quilt. The flow is a network of links or, looked at another way, it\u2019s like the script of a film.<\/p>\n

Once you\u2019ve got your tangle you teep it to someone wearing an uvvy. The tangle settles in and\u2014the user gets a sampling of your memories, yens, and dark dreams. And the sample is never quite the same. In a certain sense a tangle is alive, and it has a mind of its own.<\/p>\n

Zoe\u2019s early tangles were abstract, like high-tone gallery art. Sounds, not words; shapes, not things. Her tangles resembled silk scarves inside dusty suitcases. Open a case, and Zoe\u2019s visions float.<\/p>\n

Then then Zoe changed her style. She started collaborating on her tangles with her pal Bix. More ironic now, more commercial. Barbie Doll houses, Ukrainian Easter eggs, Mondrian paintings. Cheery, antic, off-kilter. Fun.<\/p>\n

But all that was then, and this is now. Thing is\u2014three months ago, a school shooter murdered Zoe\u2019s younger brother Nick. Nick with his shrill voice, his many opinions, his skinny, lively legs\u2014eternally active\u2014except when he\u2019d sink for hours into hand-drawing levels for imagined video games. He liked to pretend he was a superhero, leaping at Zoe from a perch atop the couch. But none of that kept him safe.<\/p>\n

After the murder, Zoe kept obsessing that there was something she could have done. Like keeping Nick home from school that day, not that she could have known the particular day, but what if? Or at the very least, she could have helped Nick dream up a strategy for escaping shooters.<\/p>\n

Zoe had nightmares, and she cried a lot while she was awake. The grief surging at her like a foul, oily wave. She felt guilty about all the times she could have been nicer to Nick, but hadn\u2019t been. Horrible, horrible, horrible.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

She got into such a state that for a month she blanked out. Lay in bed all day staring at the wall. Frozen. Finally her friend Bix had jolted her loose by snaking the garden house in through Zoe\u2019s window and seriously drenching her.<\/p>\n

\u201cHydrotherapy!\u201d\u009d Bix had cried, with her face a mask of forced joviality. \u201cBe happy!\u201d\u009d With her eyes full of tears.<\/p>\n

It made Zoe feel sorry for Bix. Sorry for someone other than Nick and herself. And that was a start. She got better. But let it be said that Zoe\u2019s Mom never really did forgive Bix about the damage to the bed and the carpeting. Not that Mom wasn\u2019t glad to have Zoe back. \u201cBut did you really have to use the garden hose<\/em>?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

Bix convinced Zoe to get back to making tangles with her. A good move. The tangles obscured the looming specter of raw grief. Working on art has a way of driving off the other thoughts.<\/p>\n

Zoe and Bix\u2019s latest tangle is Dough Ray Me<\/em>\u2014about a sun god made of cookies. Very pretty, very happy, very meh<\/em>. Zoe regretted it.<\/p>\n

Bix was saying they could demo Dough Ray Me <\/em>at today\u2019s Sound Off jam in downtown San Jose. Not far from their yup burb of Los Perros.<\/p>\n

But Zoe is thinking that if they\u2019re going to the Sound Off, they ought to bring something better. That\u2019s what she\u2019s doing sitting on the back steps. Making something cool. A crooked kraken creeping from a crypt. And who knows how. Just start it and finish it.<\/p>\n

Zoe believes that if you\u2019re really tuned in, the synchronicity feeds you the clues you need. It\u2019s like the Muse says hi, and the world collaborates. Like stained glass lit by a heavy Sun.<\/p>\n

A car drives past: an assassin. The wind in the trees: the universal mind. The jabber of the neighbor\u2019s gnome-bot: a periwigged colonial gent snipping the gun amendment from the Constitution. A woman coos to her quacky tot: her ponytail is a fountain of tears. Birds in the hedge: triangular beak-cheeps, a bullet factory. A carpenter hammers a nail: the tones rise toward crisis.<\/p>\n

The killer rakes his fire across Nick\u2019s thin chest. Sodden blurts of blood. The sad boy\u2019s final cry\u2014cut off. Too much? Leave it in. People need to feel it. And end with coroner samples of Nick\u2019s blood cells, ultra-high-res loops of the live cells jiggling.<\/p>\n

\u201cYo, Zo!\u201d\u009d Enter Bix, shyly smiling.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Zoe draws a deep breath. \u201cGreetings, comrade,\u201d\u009d says she, in the light tone they use together. \u201cWhat news from the front?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re in! I demoed Dough Ray Me <\/em>to the gatekeeper. She slobbered over it. Your back-story helps. We\u2019ll show it this afternoon. First session of the Sound Off workshop!\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlucky gals in tangle tussle,\u201d\u009d says Zoe, talking weird for her recording. \u201cCome none, come tall.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

Bix pauses, assessing the situation. \u201cYou\u2019re starting a new tangle?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can\u2019t use Dough Ray Me<\/em>,\u201d\u009d says Zoe. \u201cIt\u2019s empty. Like an ad for moo. If I\u2019m in this jam, I want to stink<\/em>.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hear you, girl. But\u2014do you think we can finish a whole new tangle in the next three or four hours?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m amassing clips, hooks, and scabs as we speak,\u201d\u009d goes Zoe. \u201cMy quilt billows. Almost done. Five minutes long. This sad old world is beautiful. As for your side of things, I\u2019m thinking we use the same flow you made for Dough Ray Me<\/em>.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cUse the same flow twice?\u201d\u009d cries Bix. \u201cYou don\u2019t understand flow at all. Showy strutter that you are. Vapid, leg-kicking Vegas Rockette.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour pique is counterpoint to my torque,\u201d\u009d goes Zoe.<\/p>\n

\u201cIdiot.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow for the quilt\u2019s final patch,\u201d\u009d says Zoe, unperturbed. \u201cBowser!\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

As he wakens, the old dog begins scratching his neck, same as usual. His rear leg thuds repeatedly against the damp earth. Zoe nods to the beat, digging it. Bowser staggers to his feet and does a full-body shake, flapping his ears against his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cLucious,\u201d\u009d murmurs Zoe. \u201cIt\u2019s a metaphor, Bix. And yes, I grasp that you\u2019ll need to change your flow a little<\/em>. But less than you imagine. Everything fits. Always.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

Bix is getting curious. \u201cThe fleas are the victims, and Bowser\u2019s the school killer?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe fleas are the guns<\/em>,\u201d\u009d says Zoe. \u201cAnd Bowser is our tangle. The Nick <\/em>tangle. We\u2019ll be the horsemen of the catalyst. Terrorizing the gun fiends.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould be nice,\u201d\u009d says Bix.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Zoe raises her hands, as if addressing a large audience. \u201cThank you, thank you, thank you. The long nightmare ends.\u201d\u009d She opens her mouth wide and wheezes from the back of her throat, emulating a cheering crowd.<\/p>\n

\u201cBrave little trumpeter, you,\u201d\u009d goes Bix, pacing back and forth. \u201cBut how does the Nick <\/em>tangle do anything real? It\u2019s just sounds and shapes. Visions and vibes. Yes, a tangle is a alive, and it spawns copies of itself. But\u2014it destroys guns\u2014how?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cNick\u2019s blood cells are inside the tangle,\u201d\u009d says Zoe. \u201cI copped nanoscale lab videos. Add a few touches, and the simmie cells will morph into true slime warriors for our cause. A cell is as smart as a human, you know. Wolfram\u2019s Law of Computational Equivalence.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cPile on the bullshit and keep a straight face,\u201d\u009d says laconic Bix. \u201cI want to believe. Say more about how your simmies will morph into matter?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

Zoe looks uneasy, maybe even embarrassed. \u201cOkay, right, we\u2019ll get help. From, um, someone at the Sound Off show?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cOur session is at four with Schrank, I Did Not, and the two Swillies. They\u2019re sisters.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cSchrank is teen horror,\u201d\u009d says Zoe, thinking it over. \u201cI Did Not is fun with mirrors. Never seen the Swillies live. Are they dank?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cTingling tent-worms. Puddles of smeel.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe join forces with them,\u201d\u009d says Zoe. \u201cThey\u2019ll dig your wry, crab-sideways flow.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

Bix thinks for a minute, then nods. \u201cWhy not. We act like morons and wrap your Nick <\/em>quilt in my Dough Ray Me <\/em>flow and see what the fuck happens.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

The women sit side by side on the back steps, running the fused Nick <\/em>tangle, in full teep contact. The tangle feels like it\u2019s much longer than five minutes. It\u2019s hella dank.<\/p>\n

\u201cQueen of quilts,\u201d\u009d says Bix, elbowing her pal. \u201cSometimes finds even the blind hand an acorn<\/em>.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

This is a saying the girls like. It comes from Bix\u2019s self-effacing Hungarian grandmother, who says it, not without irony, whenever she gets something right. \u201cSometimes finds even the blind hand an acorn<\/em>.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cAlways remember that a tangle is a little different every time it runs,\u201d\u009d says Zoe. \u201cNot a circle repeat, but an upward helix. Evolution. The simmies of Nick\u2019s blood cells will learn to do a no-guns thing. And then, I swear it, they\u2019ll turn real.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cVisualize, realize, actualize,\u201d\u009d says Bix. \u201cBlind hand. Ball lightning. Those blood cells are truly Nick\u2019s? Tres sick. We\u2019ll pep them up, yes.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

The women touch their heads together for a deeper level of teep. Bix shapes her flow into a sculpted river with bulges. Not a flat river, you understand, an intricately knotted loop in space.<\/p>\n

Zoe cannonballs a virtual Nick into one of the river\u2019s bulges. Then another and another. The dog-paddling Nicks whoop and wave. Bix and Zoe push mental energies around the loop. It glows like lazy neon. And, yes, the grisly blood cells are morphing into kindly, cozy microorganisms. Paramecia and amoebas. The little Nicks whistle to them. They tumble like a cheer squad.<\/p>\n

\u201cBig germs,\u201d\u009d says Zoe.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t exactly call them germs<\/em>,\u201d\u009d protests Bix. \u201cDon\u2019t germs have to be bacteria?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cAny small critter is a germ,\u201d\u009d insists Zoe. \u201cColloquial usage.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

The Sound Off workshop is in the San Jose civic auditorium, a 1930s building styled as if made of adobe, with creamy curves and arches. The arena\u2019s wooden floor has tables and stools, with, um, only a hundred attendees, and maybe two hundred more in the low, smooth, adobe benches along the walls.<\/p>\n

Tangles aren\u2019t yet a popular art form. You need to be wearing an uvvy to view them, and a lot of people are paranoid about having a biotweaked sea slug on the back of their neck.<\/p>\n

The Schrank crew are dressed in Goodwill chic. Non-binary, like shaggy cartoons. Three of them. They raise their arms for attention and the crowd quiets. Everyone\u2019s uvvy picks up a bombastic trumpet fanfare, as if for some primeval rock show. And then the users get their Schrank tangle downloads. It\u2019s called Granny Goose<\/em>. Sounds playful, but it\u2019s not.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Experiencing this tangle, Zoe and Bix are in a mild blue sky, in their own forms. Flocks of flagellates and ciliates swoop and wheel like starlings at dusk. Giant microbes. Zoe feels these are her creations, engendered by her hi-def animated images of Nick\u2019s blood cells.<\/p>\n

In the next group\u2019s tangle, Zoe and Bix see the protozoa again, translucent and gleaming, bigger than dogs. Nuzzling them.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re more detailed now,\u201d\u009d says Bix. \u201cWe\u2019re polishing their code.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s got to be a way to teach them to destroy guns,\u201d\u009d Zoe says to Bix.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m almosting it,\u201d\u009d Bix responds.<\/p>\n

And now it\u2019s Bix and Zoe\u2019s turn.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you ready?\u201d\u009d Zoe shouts to the crowd.<\/p>\n

\u201cReady for Nick<\/em>?\u201d\u009d echoes Bix, right with it.<\/p>\n

The friends get into a back-and-forth chant. At first it\u2019s out loud, but as they send the Nick <\/em>tangle to the users, they switch to teep, and it\u2019s not even clear who\u2019s saying what.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cNick\u2019s dead.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe lives!\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn our tangle.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe bangle-wangle!\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cA killer shot him!\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re gonna take the guns away.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll grow big germs.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re gonna take the guns away.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

The tangle kicks in. It\u2019s similar to what Bix and Zoe designed, but\u2014more edgy and jittery. The stage fright is in there, and the dread of seeing Nick die.<\/p>\n

The big germs are busy in the tangle, more of them than ever, blobs on every side. Zoe teeps Help Nick <\/em>as the killer appears. And, yes, as the assassin raises his assault weapon, a paramecium channels a bright beam that crumbles the misshapen rifle into bright dust. And with that, this run of the Nick <\/em>tangle ends.<\/p>\n

Zoe is agog. Their plan\u2014it can work! The hall fills with cheers for the brave save. And under all that are\u2014bellows of anger? Yes, it\u2019s a pair of gun lovers. Low crude beasts with moronic slogans on their T-shirts. One has a beard, the other is bald.<\/p>\n

Are Bix and Zoe going to be safe? Odd that Zoe hasn\u2019t thought to worry about this before. She\u2019s been so blindly sure of her triumph. But, at least for now, the haters aren\u2019t coming for her.<\/p>\n

With the help of the Swillie sisters, Long Sue and Jeen, they launch an improved version of their tangle again. The tangle spreads to everyone\u2019s uvvies. Zoe sees a movie marquee, with a title in lights. Saint Nick<\/em>. A heavy stage curtain hangs from the marquee.<\/p>\n

An elfin chorus sounds\u2014and the curtain parts.<\/p>\n

Zoe and the others imagine themselves to be walking through the opening\u2014and then they\u2019re in the San Jose civic auditorium, same as before, right where they started, and they\u2019re not watching a tangle anymore.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Yes, they\u2019re awake in the actual real world\u2014but something\u2019s changed. Thanks to the craft of the Swillie sisters, scores of big germs are bumbling around, mostly paramecia. Live, translucent mini-blimps the size of hogs. Physically present. Very highly detailed, with nuclei, mitochondria, ribosomes, cytoskeletons\u2014and some spiral organelles that glow.<\/p>\n

For no good reason, one of the big germs darts forward and slips its mouth over Zoe\u2019s head. The mouth is like a pouch in the critter\u2019s side. Zoe beats her fists against the floating jelly bag. She tries to scream, but she\u2019s muffled.<\/p>\n

The big germ\u2019s outer surface is coated with slimy fur, or no, coated with cilia. Zoe can see the cilia without using her eyes. Uvvy teep. Telepathy. The beating cilia reminds her of tall grass in a breezy field. A second big germ latches onto Bix\u2019s head. Somehow\u2014even in these dire straits\u2014the attack on Bix makes Zoe laugh.<\/p>\n

\u201cOo gloob-a-gloob,\u201d\u009d says Zoe\u2019s big germ.<\/p>\n

\u201cUgfa floop,\u201d\u009d says Bix\u2019s.<\/p>\n

\u201cTalk English,\u201d\u009d says Zoe.<\/p>\n

\u201cOr use teep,\u201d\u009d goes Bix.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re present in your reality,\u201d\u009d says a blurry voice in Zoe\u2019s mind. \u201cI\u2019m Franklin.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m Eleanor.\u201d\u009d says the other big germ. \u201cIt\u2019s surprising that you meat bags are as smart as us. Good for you.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy understanding is that you want to get rid of guns?\u201d\u009d says Franklin, still perched atop Zoe. \u201cEasily done. We\u2019ll decohere them.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t like having my head in your mouth,\u201d\u009d says Zoe. \u201cWhy do you have to do that?\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cMakes our teep exchange stronger,\u201d\u009d says Franklin.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t fear that we\u2019ll digest you,\u201d\u009d says Eleanor in a reassuring tone. If, that is, telepathy from a giant paramecium can be reassuring<\/em>.<\/p>\n

By now the Swillie sisters Jeen and Long Sue have big germs on their heads too. Silly and laughable, but at the same time it\u2019s scary. The four humans hold hands in a circle. The big germs hum to them via teep, with cascades of images flying by. A vision of things to come.<\/p>\n

Zoe heaves a deep sigh. This is going to be okay. This is going to work.
\n\"\"<\/p>\n

The audience of course has no idea what\u2019s going on. They\u2019re cringing away from the pullulating big germs. As a matter of fact, they\u2019re leaving the building. And the two jerks who yelled are, how typical, pointing pistols at Zoe and Bix.<\/p>\n

Swillie Jeen teeps to the big germs, and Zoe watches the signal go by. It sounds like an elf chorus, and it means, \u201cSic \u2019em.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

Big germ Franklin projects a jittery beam of energy that zings the men\u2019s pistols into dust. Just like in the virtual reality of their tangle. But this happens in the real world. The big germs are fully actualized.<\/p>\n

The disarmed guys run toward Zoe, fists clenched. Big germ Eleanor takes her turn. A sizzle runs across the men\u2019s bodies. They wet their pants, howl \u201cKi-yi-y!\u201d\u009d, and run outside like frightened dogs. How satisfying.<\/p>\n

The San Jose civic auditorium is deserted except for Zoe, Bix, and the pair of Swillies. Plus four big germs. The humans slump to the ground, entranced. Their minds are temporarily hosted in the big germs\u2014Zoe\u2019s in Franklin, Bix is inside Eleanor and the Swillies\u2019 minds are inside the two others. The big germs exit the auditorium, taking the humans\u2019 minds along.<\/p>\n

Zoe\u2019s in Franklin, and Bix is inside Eleanor, and the Swillies\u2019 minds are inside big germs as well. The four of them drift from the hall.<\/p>\n

Thousands of big germs are on the loose outside. An roaring crowd of people swells. Wild rumors fly. People don\u2019t know what\u2019s up, but they want to witness. They cheer, chant, bray, pray, and scream.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow far will you big germs spread?\u201d\u009d Zoe asks Franklin.<\/p>\n

Nimbly Franklin and Eleanor connect the women\u2019s vision to an orbiting spy satellite. Looking down, Zoe and Bix see big germs as pinpricks of light. The germs are spreading across the planet with exponential speed\u2014infecting every available uvvy with the Saint Nick <\/em>portal. Big germs bubble forth from each uvvy, unstoppable, like water from unseen springs.<\/p>\n

Looking away from Earth, Zoe and Bix admire the exquisite spangles of interstellar space. And, more than that, they see the paisley seething of the all-pervading subspace whence the big germs have come. Exquisite manna for the soul.<\/p>\n

The rattle of automatic weapons fire snaps them back. They hover in their big germs above the now-tripled crowd in San Jose. Passions run high. The word is out: big germs will end guns.
\n\"\"<\/p>\n

Bix and Zoe had their minds in space for longer than they realized. Aggrieved militias are marching in, weapons raised. They\u2019re blazing away at the big germs, as if hunting ducks. This doesn\u2019t last long. In a concerted effort, the big germs ooze out a blanket of summer lightning that settles onto crowd, coalescing into nodules that find each and every weapon, sizzling them into coruscating dust.<\/p>\n

Cries of impotent fury.<\/p>\n

The next wave of protest is a squadron of killer drones, heading toward the entrance of the San Jose civic auditorium, bent on destroying the entranced bodies of Zoe, Bix, Jeen, and Long Sue Swillie. Once more, Jeen\u2019s big germ sounds an elf song, and a hundred-fold thunderbolt zaps all the drones at once.<\/p>\n

A tasty zzzt<\/em>. Bright dust falls.<\/p>\n

Escalating waves of attacks roll in. The big germs are nimble, implacable, and for real. They take the invasion as a to-do list of things to eliminate. They zap metal guns, plastic guns, grenades, artillery, helicopter gunships, fighter planes\u2014turning it all to dust, and spreading the news to their fellows worldwide. Before long, all that shit-nasty crap is gone.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile the day has turned to night. And here comes one last attack, something reallly large, plummeting down from a great height. It\u2019s an H-bomb that some wack war-monger is delivering C.O.D. to poor old San Jose.<\/p>\n

Zoe and Bix have the honor of delivering the zap to the H-bomb.<\/p>\n

Fa-toom<\/em>. An exceedingly large amount of decontaminated pixie dust drifts down.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, lord, that felt good,\u201d\u009d goes Zoe.<\/p>\n

While the big germs get busy eliminating all the other nukes worldwide, the four humans return to the now-sacred confines of the San Jose civic auditorium\u2014and rouse their bodies.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow will people live without the joy of killing others at a distance?\u201d\u009d asks Bix.<\/p>\n

\u201cThoughtfully,\u201d\u009d says Zoe. \u201cIn kindness.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd if the aggro idiots can\u2019t handle that, they can fight each other with clubs and knives and fists,\u201d\u009d suggests Long Sue. \u201cLike in the old days.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if they drag the rest of us into it?\u201d\u009d goes Bix.
\n\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cNot so easy anymore,\u201d\u009d says Zoe.<\/p>\n

Jeen sounds an elf-chorus tone that means, I can always upgrade the big germs.
\n<\/em>
\n\u201cWouldn\u2019t want to go too far,\u201d\u009d cautions Long Sue. \u201cDon\u2019t want to live in kindergarten.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

\u201cBix and I will keep things loose,\u201d\u009d puts in Zoe. \u201cMore tangles. Weirder ones. We\u2019re nasty<\/em>.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n

High five.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This is the text of \u201cBig Germs,\u201d\u009d a strongly anti-gun story that I read\u00a0 at the SF in SF gathering in San Francisco on Sunday, June 23, 2024. This post appears on Medium as well. And you can hear a podcast version. One more option is that you can read a longer and more polished\u00a0 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14311","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14311","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14311"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14311\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14356,"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14311\/revisions\/14356"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14311"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14311"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rudyrucker.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14311"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}