Life with a disability is hard.  The greater your disability, the more difficult it becomes.  In my head I often view it like a soccer league with no promotion/relegation.  You are stuck in the division you were born in.  Unless of course you acquire an injury.

In the Premier League you have people like myself with very severe physical disability and then you have the able bodied in Division 3 and the non leagues.  Life is much easier for them in theory or in my little head lol

But what would I say to my younger self or a younger person with a severe physical disability?

A) Embrace aids and technology.  This might seem like a misnomer.  Like hopefully you are at least driving around on an electric wheelchair.  But I remember how it irritated me, when I first seen a hoist or it was suggested that I use an electric bed.  I felt I was becoming less “normal” and more distant from everybody else.  I’m not sure if the average person with a disability feels this way but I suspect that that they do.

I was wrong.  Each new device has given me extra freedom and made my life easier.  These are things that should be embraced, if needed.

B)  Nobody is perfect and everybody has problems.  See this is where my analogy totally breaks down.  That league is just a self-delusional myth.  Maybe that pretty girl is desparately lonely and would love to talk to you.  Perhaps the greatest issue you have is psychological.  You really are just another human being, not more or less special than anybody else.

C)  Education.  You need skills you can sell.  Studying and getting results are important.  You will not be able to become a brick layer.  This may be true for everybody with the advance of robots.

D)  Housing.  If there is social housing in your country, apply as early as you can.  This will give you options in the future.

On a more practical level, if you must drink and drive your wheelchair always minimize the risks on your journey back.  Otherwise you run the risk of losing a few teeth.

So I’m back again.  Turns out I wasn’t that committed to going dry for November but hey, this is my blog.  I can be committed to some things hopefully.

So the interesting news today is that the world tfr (total fertility rate) has declined from 4.7 in 1950 to 2.4 today.  This is due to people having better things to do, like watching Netflix.  The news as usual though starts getting a bit confused when it comes to statistics saying the replacement level for humanity is 2.05.  Guess they must have studied the humanities.

Of course this is total nonsense.  In general there are 105 boys born for every 100 girls (who have the babies).  This means a replacement level of 2.1 before any girls die.  In some countries 10% of under 5s die.  The world may already be at replacement level.  Of course as people are living longer and the young mean age of the world, the world population will continue to grow for some time.

Rant over.

Just finished writing the prologue to my next novel “The Irish Ripper”.  I decided a more brutal start would help get the pacing right.  Really enjoyed writing it.  Not sure what that says about me lol

Just as well I can write a bit of gore.  There’s going to be plenty.

Not much other news for now.  Don’t be afraid to comment.  I might even reply.

 

It is now the time of year I hate most – winter.  The cold and dark nights is just not amiable to my lifestyle in a wheelchair.  No matter how hard you try,  you get very cold if you stay outside for any reasonable period of time.

To add to my misery I decided to give up alcohol for the month of November.  So far I’ve made three days.  This is not something I’m telling many people about as I probably won’t last the week.  In which case, it’s good I have so few readers.

All of which is good for my novel writing as I’ll have more time to write.   I have just completed the first 1,000 words of my latest project – “The Irish Ripper”.  Hopefully I’ll have it completed by this time next year.

It will be a major change for me.  This work will be about a gruesome serial killer and the efforts to catch him; expect horror, sex and violence.

Had two book sales during the week, which reminded me to get back to the top of my game.

“Not the Usual Suspect” continues to be well received but I reckon “Paradigm” will become more popular in time.

As my readers can probably tell I’m not an avid blog writer but I’ll try to improve.

The Trip to Belfast

The rest of the week passed in a blur.  All I could think about was the coming Saturday.  Even the thought of alcohol after hours of tedious lectures couldn’t break me from my slumber.  Instead I stayed in my room sometimes studying but often just staring at the wall. Occasionally one of my PA’s or my flatmate Lucy would come in to see if I was alright.  It was unusual for anyone to spend so much time studying at the start of the year let alone me.

 

But I knew that I was doing the right thing even if it was by default – saving my money and making sure I was in good health for when I met this Jimmy guy.  I had to be in top shape and ready for the unknown.  Eventually the week passed and I found myself nervously trying to sleep the night before I was due to leave.  I thought about all the events that led to this point; my beautiful sister Karen whose vitality had been so cruelly and violently extinguished; then my first meeting with the dissidents on the grounds of the college as we came to our understanding.

 

It did not prove conducive to a good night’s sleep and I felt restless and tired the next morning.  But I tried to think positively, it would be all over in a day or two.

 

I anxiously watched television waiting to Jimmy to arrive; flicking through the channels hoping to find something at least mildly interesting to take my mind off things.  But there was nothing.  Then I could hear the house doorbell ring.  Although expected, it felt sudden and my heart seemed to skip a few beats as I heard footsteps moving towards the door.  I would have driven out in the wheelchair only the sitting room door was closed.

 

Then the front door opened and I could hear my father and Jimmy exchange pleasantries in the distance.  I tried to reclaim my composure remembering I had to act like I knew him well.  Then the sound of talking stopped and I began to wonder what had happened.  A few minutes passed before I heard something in the distance.  Within a few seconds they both entered the sitting room with Jimmy greeting me in a thick Dublin accent which I now recognized as being more specifically from North Dublin.  He was wearing a dark black jumper with jean looking worryingly nothing like a student.

 

“Hows things Alano? – Are you ready to go?  Your father was just showing me the set up for the van and your hoist.  Those are some fine ramps you have,” Jimmy said in a thick Dublin accent.

 

I smiled trying to maintain the false pretence and said I was really looking forward to the trip.  My father then interjected to ask Jimmy which roads he was going to take and double checked that he had the correct insurance.  Jimmy reassured him that he knew the roads well and there wouldn’t be any problems.  We then headed out to the van where I drove up the long ramps and got clamped into the van.  With that we said goodbye to my father and we were on our way.

 

After going a short distance Jimmy stopped the act and began to speak more candidly.  Still he couldn’t seem to shake his positive attitude; he used to be a PA for people with disabilities so looking after me wouldn’t be a problem.  He couldn’t understand how I ended up as his partner on the mission but everything would be fine.

 

Then in what must have been a break in the code of omerta he said they must be hanging something over me too.  That I was far from a classic IRA operative; from a good background not even considering my disability.

 

But I said nothing in reply.  It could all too easily be a ploy to test me.  So, I simply replied to get on with it; neither confirming nor denying his thoughts.  It was best to be an enigma. Then I asked matter of fact what time we would arrive at our target; I would not be easily fooled.

 

He replied that he didn’t know; that we had orders to take a detour.  The Chief Commander wished to discuss the mission with us first.  Not exactly what I wanted to hear but there was no point complaining.  I had never felt such sadness to see Mullingar fade into the background.  Soon we were driving along through narrow windy roads and through villages I didn’t recognize.

 

Fortunately Jimmy liked the CD that was in the van so that helped to pass the time.  I could feel myself warming towards him but tried to fight it.  He was not the kind of person I wanted to like.

 

After about forty minutes of driving we pulled into a house with a farmyard.  This wouldn’t be good for my wheelchair I thought to myself.  We drove to the rear of the premises and Jimmy immediately got out of the van to open the rear door of the van and put down the ramps.  As he began to take the clamps off the wheelchair I could hear the sound of footsteps in the distance which then came to an abrupt halt.

 

I then reversed out of the van with Jimmy’s guidance hoping all the time that one of the ramps wouldn’t slip to be met by three men in typical IRA regalia wearing military uniforms with balaclavas. There were no hugs or warm embrace.  Jimmy and one of the men immediately headed off leaving me with two of the men.  After a few minutes I asked where we were but they just completely ignored me.  An age seemed to pass before they returned with Jimmy carrying a brown bag.  They finished talking as they approached me.  But even in the distance I recognized the thick Ulster accent of the other guy.  It was the same man I met in the car park in UCD to arrange the hit.

 

Jimmy said it was time to go and as I drove back up the ramp the other three men left.  With a big smile Jimmy told me that they wanted to put a device in my wheelchair but that he had just about convinced them it was a bad idea.  All I could say was a very relieved “thanks”.

 

“What’s in the bag?” I inquired meekly.

 

“You know what’s in the bag!  Don’t play the innocent with me,” he replied giddily, “I’ve just heard all about you.  You’re a right dark horse.”

 

Then he affectionately patted me on the side of the face and said it was time to go.

 

It would take another two hours for us to reach our destination.  I had wondered if we would encounter difficulties trying to cross the border but there was no checkpoint.  The only noticeable change was that the Irish language no longer appeared on any of the signs and the speed limits were in miles per hour rather than kilometres. Then the Union Jacks and Tricolours appeared. It was as if buildings and pavements were themselves nationalist or unionist.  Every square inch was fought over.

 

The landscape itself was very beautiful.   I found myself captivated by hills and valleys, it was just a pity about the people.  I wondered how many people had died fighting over each hill down the centuries.

 

It was a relief to finally reach Belfast as I was tiring of the journey and needed the bathroom.  It was a sunny day and the beautiful red brick buildings that I guessed were from Victorian times were a sight to behold.  There was evidence of the conflict everywhere with flags on most of the buildings.  Suddenly I became conscious of the van’s southern registration and wondered what the likelihood of coming under attack would be if we stopped on the wrong street.

 

Finally we reached our destination right in the centre of Belfast.  It was a large modern looking hotel with a packed car-park to the front.  Jimmy cursing under his breath grew increasingly frustrated trying to find a wheelchair parking spot and joked; it would be no harm to blow the place up.

 

Then as we neared the front entrance and without hesitation, he got out of the van shouted that he would be back in a minute.  So much for not drawing attention to ourselves I thought to myself.  After a few nervous minutes he replied that they had a wheelchair parking spot behind the hotel.

 

At this point I didn’t care where we went so long as I got to a bathroom fast.  Another few minutes later I was de-clamped, and out of the van, finally able to feel the sun upon my face.

 

Jimmy shouted that he had already got our keys and so we headed to our rooms.  There was a lift just inside the door and we headed to the third floor and after quite a long walk through what seemed a maze of narrow corridors we reached our destination.

 

I immediately felt a sense of relief when we reached the room which was spacious which would help with the hoist and that the beds had legs for the hoist to go under.  Jimmy switched on the television for me before returning downstairs to get my hoist and the device.  I flicked through the channels using the remote but there was nothing interesting on.

 

When he returned I no longer had any fear of the device.  It was just about getting into the hoist and onto a toilet.  Fortunately, Jimmy knew what he was doing and I only had to give him some guidance with which hooks of the sling to use; then finally relief.

The Debt

 

It felt good to return to return to UCD for Second Year of my Bachelor of Commerce Degree, anything to take my mind off the summer’s events.  It is the largest university in Ireland with approximately eighteen thousand students.  During the day there is a constant flow of activity and at night The Student Bar is the place to be.

 

Just like my first year I would live in a ground floor apartment on campus with fellow student Lucy and Personal Assistants.  It is close to the centre of everything which makes my college life that much easier.  The only drawback is that almost all the rest of the student accommodation is inaccessible.

 

Lectures provided an opportunity to exercise my mind without feeling a cold sweat pour over me.  The Student Bar was once more in full swing with queues forming before lunch hour to get in.  Just the way I liked it.  My friends were  thrilled to see me if a little amused that I had made it this far after spending so much time in the pub.

 

Casey gave me a big hug when he saw me.  It was the second night back and I was reacquainting myself with my favourite table and my beloved vodka.  The music was pulsating through the bar and the large crowd were in vibrant form.

 

At times shouting into my ear as people barged past he told me about him summer.  He had spent it in Lyons in France teaching English and had become besotted with a French girl.  He had told her that he would return but now looking forlorn was doubtful he would.  He never asked about my summer; perhaps wanting to distance himself from events.

 

The party atmosphere continued throughout the night.

 

Fortunately fewer hours of lectures were scheduled than my first year at the university.  There would be plenty of time for recreational activities between lectures which would probably consist of drinking tea and watching daytime TV for me.  I had different subjects than last year; but being a Commerce student; there was nothing, not related to business or which I felt could give me a sleepless night.

 

Economics was always a subject which made total sense to me and business organization couldn’t possibly be arduous.  Hopefully accounting wouldn’t be too boring this year.

 

But a shadow constantly lingered over me.

 

Just a week before I started back, the mission had been outlined to me.  It was a bomb plot to murder the British Prime Minister.  Originally there was a different target but this was apparently too good of an opportunity to let pass.  He was to give a key speech about the peace process in two months at the Langton hotel near Belfast city centre.  One month from now I would be attending a disability related conference at the same hotel where my co-conspirator would plant the bomb.

 

All I was told was that there was a republic sympathizer involved in an organization called People with Disabilities in Northern Ireland (PDNI) who would ensure I would be invited and that suitable accommodation was booked.  I would be accompanied by another IRA agent who would both seemingly look after my needs and plant the bomb while I was there.

 

“Where?”  “Why?” and “How?” is a summation of my parents’ thoughts regarding my forthcoming trip to Belfast.  Telling the truth that I was on an IRA mission was totally out of the question so instead I told them that I needed time to get over Karen’s death; that a trip away would be cathartic for me, that I needed to spend some time away from everything, where people didn’t know my name or what I’d been through.  When they started to accept that the questions about who I was going with started.

 

These were far more difficult to answer.  I was only meeting my “handler” every two weeks at best, sometimes beside a bench in the town park in Mullingar and other times in the Arts Centre on campus.  He gave little information away stressing that people had to be protected.  He had seemingly been assigned to me by central command and had a long terrorist history.  Shabbily dressed with a long white beard and ever present blue cap he liked to remind me endlessly that I should be honoured to get a chance to serve my country. That the British had been oppressing the Irish for over eight hundred years and it was now time for them to leave.

 

He suggested telling them that I was going with “Jimmy”; a mature student.  The rest of the details were to be kept as vague as possibly lest they were to guess for instance that “Jimmy” had no idea where UCD even was.  This was not very reassuring.  Pointing out that I needed someone who understood how to use a hoist and could drive the family’s accessible van drew a quizzical look before looking away and saying it would all be sorted.

 

Eventually he told me that my accomplice would be a masquerading as a mature student who had some previous experience helping people with disabilities.  Whether he actually had any experience helping someone with a disability was seemingly another thing entirely but the leadership were confident I could direct him appropriately, something which reassured me little. The date of the conference was now fast approaching.

 

Two weeks later I got the call.  My Dad called out my name to tell me that “Jimmy” was looking for me on the phone.  I nervously drove into the kitchen to take the call.  My Dad had to had to hold the telephone to my ear which made me worry he might hear something he shouldn’t.

 

The first thing I noticed about Jimmy was his thick Dublin accent.  It was unexpected as I thought it would be a Northerner but nevertheless the sense of familiarity made me more comfortable.  The conversation was short and snappy.  He would be calling at 10 am the following Saturday and driving me up to the conference.   We would be staying for two nights; he had used a hoist before and there was nothing to worry about.  In response I just responded that was fine and I would see him then.

 

That ended the conversation and I nodded to my father that he could put down the phone which led to him looking at me a bit bewildered.  Seizing the initiative, I then informed of my plans for the following week.

 

He was concerned but then said he hoped everything would go smoothly.  That it would be good for me to get some time away from things.   It made me feel sick to lie to those closest to me.

Yes that’s the title of what I’m thinking for my latest novel.  It will be far darker than what I’ve previously written.  But then my own life is not going swimmingly.  It will be with relish that I have the opportunity to enter a truly black world.

So the main character or dare I say “hero” in a normal novel will be a contemptuous, vile character who becomes paralyzed in a night of passion with a police colleague.

It is the villain that truly excites me.  He will be based on a mixture of the “Golden State Killer ” and “Jack the Ripper”.

I intend the finished product to be my homage to “Silence of the Lambs”.  It was a true work of terror that I saw on television but never read.  I did read the sequel “Hannibal”.

These works greatly increased my appreciation of the literary arts and it is something I want to emulate and perhaps surpass.

There will by necessity be depictions of extreme violence of all kinds.  Yes I am looking forward to it.

Regular readers will be kept occassionaly updated on progress.

 

 

The Horror

 

It was the serenity I had loved; the silence.  That is except for some branches gently shaking in the wind.  It was only a short distance from the house and used to be a secret refuge.  But now the thought of going there would terrify me. I needed noise to drown out my thoughts.  The shame and guilt for what I had done.  My parents had never intended to raise a monster but that is what had happened.

 

There was simply nowhere else to go.  My parents were anxious for me to spend some time outside perhaps so they could escape my foul mood.  As if theirs was any better; they barely spoke to me or anyone else any more.  Now the sound of women crying out for their loved ones from the rubble, images of the missing limbs and faces covered in blood permeated my mind.  Surely there are things that can never be forgiven and I must have crossed that point just about an hour ago.

 

It was never supposed to be like this.  All I wanted was revenge against my sister’s murderer.  Surely after what he had done to her, it was what any decent brother would have done.  But with a crippling condition since birth called Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita revenge was to be had by an invisible hand.  The condition caused by multiple joint contractures left me wheelchair bound with only limited use of my hands.  It was a friend from college who first put me in contact with a faction of the IRA that rejected peace.   Blinded by hatred I cared little for the consequences of the alliance I had entered into.

 

It was only when I tasted my revenge that my thoughts turned to the North.   The Good Friday Agreement had been signed in May which promised a historic lasting peace in Northern Ireland.  Both sides had grown weary of a bloody but low level conflict that had led to the deaths of over three thousand people over twenty years.   On the one side you had moderate nationalists, Republicans including the IRA and the Irish Government; on the other unionists, loyalists including terrorist organisations such as the UVF and the British Government.

 

There were minorities on both sides which opposed the peace deal.  But its most deadly opponents were dissidents from the IRA.  To them there could never be a peace deal while Ireland remained divided into two different artificial state-lets and British soldiers remained on the island of Ireland.  They saw their comrades as sell outs who had betrayed their country.  The struggle had already lasted centuries; there was no end in sight for them.

 

These were the people I had become indebted too and I had become an instrument of their destruction.  I had never really thought about it before but planting a bomb and then scurrying away really was a cowardly act.  At least television would give me some indication of my heinous crime; I deserved to be punished.

 

It was now approaching dinner time so I turned the wheelchair back on and began trundling the short journey home.  The skies were slowly turning grey as I drove horizontal to the front door and knocked on it three times.  My father struggling to smile opened the door and welcomed me in telling me the dinner was ready.

 

My mother was already sitting at the table ready to help feed me.  Their lives had been shaken to the core by Karen’s death but recently I could feel they were trying to move forward with their lives.  The Gardai had told them that the case had been effectively closed as the primary suspect was himself dead.  They were sure he was the perpetrator and to try to take at least some solace from what had happened even if it was not ideal.

 

It was a typical setting for an Irish dinner with beans, potatoes and pork to eat with the television in the corner of the kitchen.  My father went to turn on the news as he always did.  It would only be seconds now till their questions would start.

 

“Alan, wasn’t that the hotel you were at?”

 

“Did you notice anything odd?”

 

Or maybe they will tell me how lucky I was, that it could have happened to me.  Probably best to act surprised I surmised and that I was so thankful nothing so awful had happened to me when I stayed there.  Fortunately I had learned I was a good liar..  Not the kind that would let something slip easily.

 

The Angeles snapped me back from my thoughts.  It lasted the customary sixty seconds and then the news headlines were read out.  I was surprised when it wasn’t the first item mentioned but shocked when there no mention of it whatsoever.  Perhaps the news still had to filter through.  Then at the end there was a brief mention of the British Prime Minister Tony Blair visiting the North for peace negotiations.  The attack had demonstrably failed.

 

A million different thoughts started to run through my mind.  Perhaps there was a cover up to stop panic breaking out or maybe the bomb had failed to detonate.  Either way things were not good and I could feel a heavy weight on my shoulders..

 

Perhaps sensing my unease my father asked me if I was alright.  I struggled to reassuringly smile and nod that I was fine.

 

The news continued till the end without any mention of an attack as I slowly ate my way through the dinner.  Once I was finished I went to check my mobile swinging my arm onto the coffee table where I had left it hours earlier but there were no messages or phone calls.  What did this all mean?  Or maybe, just maybe..

The Zeyons 

 

 Below is a short story I wrote years ago and was was hoping to expand my science fiction universe.  Let me know what you think!

It was a sudden reversal of fortune.  Humanity had creeped across the Milky Way, colonising one world after another in a seemingly unstoppable wave.  Many aliens had been encountered previously but they had easily been destroyed or assimilated.  But now real frontiers were beginning to form; first the Mullinarians and now the Zeyons. 

 

The Zeyons appeared to be nothing more than a curiosity at first; robots that had apparently turned on their indigenous masters.  Humans thought they were too few in number to mount a serious threat.  But it was a major mistake; all their assumptions were based on an outpost of the Zeyon civilization.  They didn’t realise the number of planets and the quality of the spaceships under their control. 

 

It was Corporation Zang who made first contact on the barely habitable planet Moros, a recently discovered planet which was now seen as being ripe for colonisation and exploitation.  It was a carbon world located just outside the galactic centre of the Milky Way which developed from a protoplanetary discs that were carbon rich and oxygen poor.  Oceans of liquid methane flow on its surface covering approximately three fifths of the planet.  The remaining dry ground consists of frozen tar around each pole.  Carbon monoxide is the most abundant gas in the atmosphere and humans would quickly suffocate if not for their bio suits.  The lack of water was the biggest obstacle to human colonisation but it could be created in sufficient quantities through various chemical transactions. 

 

The ship Zorn was dispatched.  Interstellar travel could still take decades at this point.  On board one thousand female embryos and a massive sperm bank which was kept cryonically frozen until required. 

 

 

It was a sudden reversal of fortune.  Humanity had creeped across the Milky Way, colonising one world after another in a seemingly unstoppable wave.  Many aliens had been encountered previously but they had easily been destroyed or assimilated.  But now real frontiers were beginning to form; first the Mullinarians and now the Zeyons. 

 

The Zeyons appeared to be nothing more than a curiosity at first; robots that had apparently turned on their indigenous masters.  Humans thought they were too few in number to mount a serious threat.  But it was a major mistake; all their assumptions were based on an outpost of the Zeyon civilization.  They didn’t realise the number of planets and the quality of the spaceships under their control. 

 

The humans had by now perfected their technique of colonization.  As the ship approached the mid-point of its journey to the planet, the first female embryos would be planted into artificial wombs.  They would be born on board on the ship and have reached early adulthood by the time the ship landed.  They would then be fertilised and begin the construction of the first base. 

 

During construction one of their autonomous flying scouts spotted the first Zeyon.  They immediately recognised that there was another advanced civilization on the planet.  This one was different to anything humanity had encountered previously.  It was an android civilization.  They made no attempt to hide their non-biological nature with silver metallic bodies and piercing red eyes.   

 

Although they had two arms and legs it was obvious that they were not modelled on humans.  Two small artificial horns protruded from their head and their jaws protruded forwards.  Each Zeyon had strength and resilience many times that of a human. 

 

For many years the two colonies developed independently on different hemispheres of the planet.  The humans eventually sent a small group to make contact but they were obliterated.  The humans retaliated with a nuclear strike but it was ineffective against their shields much to the amazement of the human colonists. 

 

The planet went quiet for a time.  Then it was the Zeyons turn to attack.  Their tanks obliterated the human ground forces and they outnumbered the humans in the air where the two sides were more easily matched.  As the Zeyons marched into the cities, they tore the soft human flesh to pieces and the roads of the city became rivers of blood.   

 

Only a few humans managed to escape off the world.  But their tales of horror went unheeded.  Other human worlds reasoned that this defeat was on a carbon planet, one that humans were maladapted to and that the outcome would be changed on a different world. 

 

Some also thought that the Zeyons had a specific interest in carbon worlds and they would only be interested in inhabiting the inner galaxy which was a poor area for human colonisation anyway due to the intense radiation from neutron stars, black holes and the massive stars found there. 

 

Centuries passed and there was no contact between Zeyons and humans.  Then an armada of Zeyon ships entered human space.  Gerta was the first human world to be attacked.  It was a frontier world and its defensive capabilities were poorly developed.  In places the entire blue sky turned black from the mass of Zeyon fighters.  Its cities were obliterated in the first few hours of the attack and then the Zeyon ground trooper hunted down and annihilated the survivors. 

 

This time humanity took notice.   But it soon became clear that it was too late.  The Zeyons cut a swathe through unprepared human worlds.  The machines could not feel pity and showed no mercy as they slaughtered humans begging for their lives.  If their lasers jammed they would tear them apart with their hands. 

 

Eventually though the Zeyons cut through the less militarised frontier worlds and came up against more established human worlds which had initially become heavily militarised to deal with threats from other humans but which could now turn their guns on the alien machines.  After much bloodshed the Zeyon advance had been stopped. 

 

But there was to be profound repercussions.  The main body of human worlds now joined the Galactic Human Treaty.  It was a common defence treaty ensuring neither Zeyons nor Mullinarians could pick off human worlds one by one again. 

 

The rapid Zeyon advanced led to many individual and groups of human worlds becoming totally encircled by Zeyon space.  The different groups of worlds tended to band together to fight off any possible invasion. 

 

The individual worlds that were completely surrounded were in a much weaker situation.  Most were quickly invaded and their inhabitants slaughtered.  Some surrendered to avoid bloodshed and became the Zeyons biological slaves.  The few remaining worlds in human control were heavily militarised and of poor economic or strategic value. 

 

Beta 7×95 was an exception.  It ended up very deep in Zeyon space with the nearest human world many systems away.  It was a world that the Zeyon war plan had for millennia seemed to forget.  It was an oxygen world with oceans of water that covered five sixths of the planet in orbit around a yellow star.    There were two large continents on the planet on opposite hemispheres of the planet called Aba & Cohort. 

 

Aba was the first to be colonised.  It was originally covered by lush forest which would prove to be excellent agricultural land.  The temperate climate increased its habitability and the human population soared as was originally planned. 

 

Cohort was never to achieve the same population density.  There was a huge mountain range called Gubak at its centre and its climate was arid and hot.  Only a few mega-cities managed to develop along its coast benefiting from its bountiful seas. 

A New Group of Friends

 

 

 

It was now four o’clock and I had finally finished my lectures for the day and was on my way back to the apartment.  The campus was quite quiet now and I only passed by two students on my journey home.  I went to peer in the window and was very unimpressed by what I saw.  Patrick and Lucy were on the couch gazing into each others eyes.

 

I quickly shouted out for Patrick to open the doors for me before I witnessed something I didn’t want to see.  As Patrick went to open the doors I could see that Lucy had gone back into her room.

 

Patrick opened the external door with a large grin but it quickly disappeared when I asked him if he had started to cook the dinner. He replied that he would get to it straight away.  I told him that I would go into my bedroom and study until it was ready.  I noticed that Patrick was wearing cologne and clean shaven so I knew what he was thinking but was unsure how to react.  Hopefully Lucy wasn’t similarly interested.

 

I spent the time reviewing economic notes but mostly thinking about Statistics  During the lecture a book was recommended so I decided that it was one of the books that I would definitely purchase.  Fortunately Economics seemed to make intrinsic sense to me so I was confident that I could breeze through it.

 

Then I could hear Patrick calling me.  It was the usual sausages and bacon.  They were quickly devoured and then I told Patrick my plan as he was hoisting me into the air to go to the toilet.  He laughed in astonishment and asked why didn’t I just stay in the flat with Lucy.  I told him that there wasn’t enough time to talk about it and that this was what I was doing.

 

The reason I didn’t want to stay with Lucy was because it could then be looked upon as her having to “mind” me and this could at worst be possibly used against me in the future. For instance at worst she could lodge a complaint to the accommodation management that she was expected to help me and at best it would sour our relationship over time.  Undoubtedly this would not occur if this was a one time event but it was likely to happen throughout the year and therefore I thought it best to try and cope on my own.  Only time would tell if I am correct.

 

The bar was fairly empty as I entered.  Settling on a table near the side of the bar I asked Patrick to get me a vodka and orange with three empty glasses so that I could stack them up.  I only liked a small portion of orange as I liked the strong taste of liquor.

 

On his return I told him to leave the notes loose in my pocket rather than putting them  into my wallet.  This way if I met a friend or someone trustworthy they could easily get at my money if I wanted another drink.  With a small laugh Patrick said that one of the barmen thought him very weird for asking for empty glasses and he had to spend a few minutes explaining what they were for.

 

Patrick then set up my drink.  The empty glasses were stacked up near the edge of the table and my drink was placed on top.  Then with the use of a straw and me leaning to my left in the wheelchair I would be able to get a drink when I wanted one.  Then Patrick looked at his watch and said he was off and that he would see me next week.

 

I was now alone and almost immediately I began to wonder if this was a good idea.  But I quickly dispersed such thoughts knowing that it was too late to alter course now.  Sipping from my drink I stated to wonder if everybody would be looking at me wondering why I was in a pub on my own.

 

But after just a short while with the music blaring I began to feel much more at home.  The barman even came over to ask if I wanted another drink to which I replied yes.  He brought over the drink and took a loose note from my pocket as I had planned and left the change back into it.  The bar was getting busier now with more and more people gradually coming in.  There were beautiful women everywhere I looked in the prime of their lives.

 

It was a strange way to meet someone new.  A group of lads stopped and started chatting in front of me.  This blocked my view of a lovely group of ladies and when one of them noticed he immediately apologised and asked the other guys to move to mutual laughter.  He then asked my name and told me that his was Casey.  I was happy to have someone to talk to even though I was enjoying immersing myself in the music and getting intoxicated.

 

Never before had I met a guy called Casey.  Up till then I would have thought it was a girls name and he seemed to sense this when I told him that I didn’t hear him properly the first time.  He continued telling me that it was a name that had been passed down through the generations.  His father and grandfather had the same name.

 

Casey who was a few years older than me was of medium height and had receding black hair.  He talked fast and incessantly, rarely stopping even for a breath.  I quickly learned that he was an Arts Student studying English and History.  He said that he and the rest of the lads there were out having a few drinks.  Then he asked if I was on my own to which I responded that I was.  Immediately he suggested that I should join them which I nodded in agreement to.

 

I was then introduced to the other three lads there.  The first was John who seemed quite shy, shabbily dressed but tall and physically imposing.  He was much older than the rest of us, probably in his late forties with his original long black hair visibly greying.  He gave a simple nod in acknowledgement of my presence.

 

Next was Eamonn who immediately smiled and asked how I was.  He was a typical student who liked bit of craic.   Finally there was Mick, a giant bespectacled man visibly balding who was least six foot three and had a face I thought only a mother could love.

 

It didn’t take long for the conversation to change to politics.  They had just come from the first meeting of the year of the college’s Fianna Fail Cumann.  Fianna Fail officially called Fianna Fail – The Republican Party are the largest political party in the country but are currently in opposition.  The Cumann are the grass roots of the party and they cover the country.  A national election is expected later in the year which I am quite looking forward to as it will be my first opportunity to vote.

 

Casey soon queries my own political affiliation.  Nervously I informed him that I joined Young Fine Gael, the youth wing of Ireland’s second largest party and Fianna Fail`s main opponents.  Both are centre parties and in truth little divides them except memories of the Irish Civil War which was now of little relevance to my generation.

 

However as I had expected my response led to humorous cat calls of “Blueshirt” and “West Brit” from a smiling Casey.

 

Fianna Fail came from the side that lost the Civil War, cementing the partition of Ireland into the Irish Free State (later to become The Republic of Ireland) and Northern Ireland.  Fine Gael emerged from Cumann na Gaedhael, whose side had won The Civil War.

 

I replied that Michael Collins (Irish hero from War of Independence) was my inspiration which shut him up for a few seconds as he nodded in agreement.

 

He then switched the conversation to what I was studying & where I was staying.  I replied that I was studying Commerce which I was enjoying and staying on campus.  Casey then informed me that he was studying Third Year Arts and that his accommodation was a ten minute walk off campus.

 

I knew that Casey would turn out to be a good and useful friend when he offered to go to the bar when I had finished my drink.  The bar was now packed and it would take him about five minutes before he would be back to me I reckoned.  I told him that my money was in my pocket and he showed me what he was taking.

 

Before he left he patted Eamonn on the back and told him to keep me company.  Eamonn is very chatty and after the usual student conversation about college the conversation quickly turns to sport, soccer in particular and we discover that we are both Liverpool supporters leading us to sing out “You’ll never walk alone”.

 

Then Eamonn rushes off when he spots a girl he knows as if instinct suddenly propelled him away.  For a few minutes I am alone with my thoughts once again staring at my empty glass and starting to feel quite intoxicated.

 

“So you’re a blueshirt?” quipped John with mock disdain out of nowhere, “What are your thoughts on this so called peace process?”.

 

“I think it’s a good thing.  What’s the point of people endlessly getting murdered in a war that will never be won militarily?” I replied matter of fact.

 

When I looked up at him I could tell that he was less than impressed with my response.

 

“I think it’s a sell out.  They robbed our lands and now we are being sold out!” he replied in a drunkenly.

 

Then Casey emerged from the crowd with my drink and immediately held the straw up to my mouth so that I could have a drink from it.  He laughed when he heard what we had been talking about telling me that John takes these things very seriously.

 

John butted in stating Irish freedom was important and that he wasn’t prepared to put his head in the sand like everybody else but Casey just shrugged him off.  Instead he was more concerned about how hot it was getting due to the large crowd in the pub and the that fact that they were only providing plastic glasses.  Seemingly this was the standard practice in the pub when it got crowded in case a fight broke out and the glass was used as an offensive weapon.

 

Casey didn’t like the plastic glasses at all stating that the pints didn’t quite taste the same coming from them and why should a Student Bar require their use when pubs in the dodgiest and most run down parts of Dublin don’t  This led to a full blown conversation about Student politics.

 

A committee ran the Student Bar.  The committee was made up of Student Representatives who were elected, College nominees and Bar Staff representatives.  However nearly every the Student Representatives changed meaning that they had to learn everything from scratch each year and only had a short term focus.  Over the years the Bar Staff had gradually won concessions such as the use of plastic glasses.

 

It was getting late now and I asked Casey what time it was.  Shouting over the music he old that it was now ten thirty.  I felt immediate disappointment knowing that it was now time to head back to the apartment.

 

Leanne, the Personal Assistant (PA) I was due to meet at ten was in her mid fifties.  She wasn`t fully confident about using a hoist so I had planned on being fairly level headed on my return but that plan was now down the drain.  I had told her that I might be there a bit after ten but I didn`t want to leave it any longer in case she panicked thinking something might have happened to me or whatever else would go through her mind.

 

With that I told Casey that I had to go much to his bewilderment.  I kept my explanation simple saying that I had to meet somebody, thinking the background noise too loud to try to explain the truth.

 

“I`ll let you out through the fire escape rather than going through that crowd,” he said pointing behind me.  I had just enough room to manoeuvre the wheelchair round saying goodbye to the other lads at the same time.  Casey had already opened the fire escape door and a burst of fresh air suddenly brushed against my face.

 

I drove through the fire escape and then turned round.  Casey instinctively grabbed my coat which was wrapped on the back of the wheelchair and threw it over me.  He asked would I be alright getting back to the apartment on my own to which I responded that I would be.  I then said goodbye to Casey who told me that he`d keep an eye out of for me in future before rentering the pub.

 

It was only now in the fresh air and on my own that I could tell that I was quite intoxicated.  I decided to drive slowly back to the apartment taking care not to drive off a curb.  Fortunately it was only a short journey and I was soon looking through the front window into the main room of the apartment trying to get Leanne`s attention so that she would open the doors for me.

 

I could see her walking up and down the room for no obvious reason.  Eventually she looked in my direction and held her hand aloft to acknowledge that I was outside and immediately went to open the doors.  She greeted me with a big “hello”.

 

I made a conscious decision to try and act as sober as possible.  This meant that I would try to say as little as possible because if I spoke alot it would be obvious that my speech was slurred and I likely would make very little sense.  As I entered the apartment Leanne asked me if I would like a cup of tea.  Deciding I should wait a few minutes before having to answer any complex question Leanne might have about the hoist I answered in the affirmative.

 

Sitting at the table I began to feel a bit light headed and found the room moving around me.  I tried to keep my eyes focussed on the one spot at the wall as I found this helped in previous similar situations.  Leanne asked me how my day had gone to which I gave the terse response of “ok” trying not to go into any specifics.

 

Leanne held the cup of tea to my mouth and I slowly sipped from it.  After a few minutes I began to feel better but I didn`t finish my cup of tea.  It was as if my body didn`t believe me that there was no alcohol in it.

 

Then the process of going to bed began.  It was just as well that I was still lucid because I had to remind Leanne what the correct hooks on the sling were and which lever to use to open the legs of the hoist.  However it didn`t seem long before my head was on my pillow and my legs being slowly lowered due to my stiff hips.

 

It didn’t take me long to fall asleep and I didn’t even notice Leanne going to bed.  I woke up half through the night with my stomach in turmoil.  I knew that I was close to throwing up.  I thought about calling Leanne but was sure she would panic and by the time I would be in a useful position it would be too late.

 

So I did what I had done previously which was to stay as still as possible and keep swallowing the small amounts of water coming into my mouth as quickly as possible.  This had previously stopped the feeling of wanting to throw up after a few minutes.

 

Fortunately it worked on this occassion once again but I thought to myself that I would have to be more careful in future about the amount of alcohol I consumed.  It would not have been a good idea for Leanne to have to clean my sick from drinking in the first week working with me.  Then I thought about how I acted when I came back to the flat barely speaking a word and probably looking totally out of it.  Hopefully she didn`t notice or else mind too much.  In any event there was nothing I could now do about it in the middle of the night.

 

Soon I had fallen asleep once again and there were no further interruptions till the morning.

Chapter 2 – The Student Bar

 

It was now approaching eight o’clock as I patiently waited with Patrick in the kitchen area of my apartment.  Lucy had left a few minutes earlier to visit one of her friends on campus.  I informed Patrick that it was all right for him to stay in the apartment waiting for me while I went to the pub.  It was only a two minute walk away anyway and I could easily return to toilet anyway if needed or he could come get me in the unlikely event he wanted to.

 

I knew Patrick wasn’t the sociable or drinking type so even though I had invited him, I knew he would stay in the apartment.  Just as well that I had a television or he would get very bored.

 

It was now approaching ten past eight and I was growing anxious that Eric might have been delayed. I was growing anxious as I had heard from my classmates that this would be a busy night in a bar that was normally packed anyway because it was the first week of the academic year and many students were flush due to receiving grant money.  However, I need not have worried.

 

The buzzer to the apartment went off and Patrick quickly went to check who it was.   Eric walked into the room giving me a good hello and sat down on one of the chairs followed by Patrick.  Eric who was casually dressed in jeans and a denim top which was quite unusual for him asked me how I was getting on in my apartment and on my course.  I responded that the apartment was going great and smiling at Patrick told him I had nice Personal Assistants.  After another few minutes of chatting I mentioned that it would be a good idea to go before the pub became really packed and myself and Eric then left.

 

The Student Bar was adjacent to the Arts Building so the journey was very short and all myself and Eric had time to chat about was how far his apartment was from campus.  Turned out it was a good twenty minute walk away from one of the campus gates which meant that it was quite a distance away.  I thought about how difficult things would be for me if our positions were reversed and it made me even happier about having an apartment so close to everything.

 

Once the bar came into view I was shocked to see that there was a long queue to get in outside.  I tried to console myself that at least this meant there must be a good atmosphere inside.  Eric joked that he never thought he would have to queue to get into a pub in Ireland which I grinned to in agreement.  It was fortunate that it was a dry night with a dim clear sky.

 

The Student Bar itself was a very plain rectangular concrete building.  There were windows but it was difficult to look in because the blinds were drawn.  Unusually for a building in UCD it consisted of only a ground floor and had a ramped entrance.  It was very wheelchair friendly which greatly pleased as I was hoping to spend plenty of time there.  Three sides of the bar were adjacent to areas of grass and it was obvious from the litter that students liked to drink outside on a warm day.

 

The queue moved on at a brisk pace.  The noise of music and of people trying to shout over it emanating through the walls of the bar tormented me as I waited to get in.  Eric checked his mobile phone and then mentioned that the others were inside waiting for us.  I thought to myself that at least mobile phone were of some use even though I could not warm to them at all.  They were now really starting to take off and almost everybody I knew had at least talked about getting one.  The idea of people being able to instantly contact me wasn’t appealing and I didn’t want to be carrying a big awkward phone around with me.

 

Finally our part of the queue reached the entrance where there a short burly bouncer checking student IDs.  I asked Eric what was the importance of the ID and he quickly responded that the Student Bar as a private bar and you needed to be a student to get into it.  Even though I didn’t have mine on me I wasn’t worried because nobody ever asked me for ID because I was in a wheelchair, or so I thought.

 

Then Eric stepped forward showing the bouncer his ID to which he nodded and then went to open the door for me.  I drove right behind him past the bouncer and was about to go in when much to my shock I felt a hand go on my shoulder and heard the bouncer requesting my ID.  It was now difficult to turn around to face him as he was right behind me and I was wedged half way in the door.  My heart skipped a beat and I wondered what to do.  I then shouted at him over the music coming from inside the bar that it was in my shirt pocket and would he be able to get it out.  As I expected he responded with “What?” and “Where?”

 

Fortunately the queue behind me was still long and someone pushing started because of the halt in progress.  The bouncer sensing the situation was getting awkward told me to head in and that he would get it off me some other time.  With much relief I continued into the bar making a mental note to bring my card in future and that maybe people in Dublin were that bit more unpredictable.

 

The bar was wedged and I was confronted by a wall of standing people.  For a minute I thought that just inside the door was as far as I was going to get.  This was not good.  Eric tried to say something to me but I couldn’t hear him over the cacophony of music and people’s voices.  I tried to shout to him but to no avail and then motioned my head backwards for him to come closer.

 

He then shouted into my ear that he would go looking for the lads and that he would be back in a minute.  He then left into the crowd of people.  Minutes passed and there was no sign of him.  Thinking that people might think me strange just staying inside the door, I made sure to look like I was reading a poster on the wall opposite.

 

Then Eric reappeared telling me that everywhere was packed and it was even taking some people fifteen minutes to get served at the bar.  Then he raised his hand pointing to the left side of the bar and said that the rest of the lads were down there.  My heart temporarily sunk knowing that I would have to try and get through the mass of people.

 

I roared back to Enda that we would try to make it to them.  He was to go in front of me and ask people to move.  Progress proved to be slow but we went forward nevertheless.  On more than one occasion I thought that somebody was going to fall on me but my good fortune persisted.  In truth it would have been extremely awkward to turn the wheelchair around so I had little option but to continue.

 

Five minutes later we reached the bottom left corner of the bar.  The lads were there drinking away.  Fortunately the music was a bit lower in this part of the bar and I could just about make out what they were saying.  There was Mike, John, Sean and a guy I didn’t recognise.

 

Mike immediately asked me & Eric if we wanted anything from the bar as he was going up.  I told him that I wanted a vodka & orange.  Before I could tell him where I kept my money, he had darted off to the bar.  Vodka was by now my favourite drink especially when it was mixed with orange.  I found that I didn’t like the strong taste of whiskey and that I had to go to the toilet too often if I drank pints.

 

Eric who was now standing beside me asked if I was looking forward to the year ahead.  I replied that I was and I hoped that most nights would be like this to which he laughed.  Sean then came over and asked me how I was getting on.  He told me that I was fortunate to be doing Commerce which had only seventeen hours of lectures each week.  He was doing Engineering which took up to forty hours between lectures and tutorials.

 

Soon my drink had arrived and everybody seemed to be having a good time.  As I looked around and I couldn’t actually see that far in the wheelchair when so many people were standing it had been along time since I had seen such drunkenness.  Deep down I hoped the pub wasn’t always this packed and chaotic as it was too difficult to get around.

 

The drinks kept flowing and the banter was good.  Eric told me how he enjoyed studying Science so far and how he was looking forward to carrying out experiments.  It was a subject that I would have liked to do myself.  I would have found it far more interesting than Commerce.  However, it was in my nature to plan carefully and I knew that it would be impossible to carry out experiments with my twisted hands.  Equally important I knew that with Commerce I could apply for jobs anywhere whereas with Science it was likely that the jobs would be in specific places.  When one has a severe disability it is difficult to move from place to place and this gave Commerce the edge.

 

After about an hour I got talking to a girl called Linda who was standing up close to me unable to find somewhere to sit.  She seemingly knew one of my friends from Mullingar and had seen me round the town.  It was difficult to understand her garbled, intoxicated communications but I was impressed with her beauty.

 

She had short naturally blonde hair, glasses and the ideal height for me; her head was only a small distance above mine while I was sitting in the wheelchair.  The thing that impressed me most was her smile.

 

After a few minutes of chatting I found out that she was living on campus too and intended to spend as much time as possible in the bar during her first year in college.  Then off she went to look for more beer but not before we promised that we would chat again if we saw each other.  I thought the chances of that happening were quite good considering there were only two bars on campus.

 

The night was now coming to a close.  The lights switched fully on and the music stopped.  It had been my plan to leave early but it had been far too packed to try and make a quick exit.  It was now far easier to converse with people but that was mitigated by my inebriation.  I told Eric that we would leave shortly.  The crowd was slow to dissipate.  As the crowd dispersed I could see couples who I’m pretty sure couldn’t have known each other more than a few hours snogging on some of the benches.

 

Then I felt a breeze coming from behind me and over the loud speaker the sentence “please leave” was repeated over and over.  Sean told me that the fire escapes had been opened and there was one right behind me.  I knew that the fire escape was wheelchair accessible so I nodded to Eric that it was time to leave and said goodbye to the lads.

 

It was dark but still quite warm outside.  Eric and I talked about the nights events but we were shortly back at my apartment ringing the buzzer for Patrick to let us in.  He quickly came out and opened the door.  I said goodbye to Eric but Patrick only just about acknowledged him leaving saying “goodbye” in a low voice which I knew meant that he was annoyed about something.

 

I had the same schedule for going to bed every night.  First I would park in the bedroom where I would be lifted into the hoist.  Then I would be brought into the bathroom where I would toilet before going onto the bed.  This is where my clothes were taken off and I would put on my pyjamas before finally getting to sleep!

 

As I waited to be lifted into the hoist I asked Patrick if there was anything wrong.  He replied that he was tired and that he had been up early this morning.  I could tell he was grumpy because I was back a bit late but I was too tired myself to give a long explanation and just let the process of going to bed continue.

 

As I lay in bed I thought about how exciting my life had now become and the endless possibilities.  It also dawned on me that it would be a good idea to check out the bar during the morning between lectures when it would be fairly empty so that I would know the layout well for the next night I was there.  As I was still quite intoxicated, I fell asleep quickly.

 

Alcohol had a strange effect on me.  Instead of wanting to stay in bed the next day and rest, I would find myself waking up early and wanting to get up.  This morning was no exception which was quite useful as I had a Statistics lecture first thing in the morning.  Statistics is a subject you had to be fully awake for.  I had attended the first statistics lecture earlier in the week but on leaving the only thing I  had learned was that this was going to be my toughest subject.  Therefore I needed to attend all the lectures in this subject.

 

As I was guided onto the wheelchair from the hoist Patrick reminded me that he would be leaving at six o’clock and Leanne was coming at ten.  He wanted to know what I would be doing for the four hours that I would be alone but I avoided the question mainly because I had no idea yet.

 

I knew that this could prove to be an area of difficulty.  I had not received enough Personal Assistant hours so there were gaps here and there where I would be without any assistance.  The other two gaps were in the morning so they were more easily overcome as I would be at lectures anyway and there would be plenty of people around.  Unfortunately this gap was in the late evening to early night which made things much more difficult.  I had tried to organise this gap for the morning too which I originally didn’t think would be a problem but it didn’t suit Leanne so I had to change it.  Personal Assistants were hard to come by because of the poor pay and it was a triumph in itself to get them at all.

 

It was a damp morning but that didn’t dampen my spirits.  The first thing on the agenda for the day was my statistics lecture.  It turned out to be nearly a totally wasted two hours.  Apart from difficult nature of the subject itself, it was impossible to see the small squiggly writing that was being projected onto the screen from the very back of the theatre .  I had an awful sinking feeling when it was over and I knew I needed to come up with a plan.  Normal distribution curves may be about to become the bane of my life.

 

The lecture lasted one hour and fifty minutes so I had a ten minute break before my Economics lecture.  Normally I would spend this time chatting to my classmates or even just driving aimlessly around the wide corridors.  But this time I decided to make the short trip over to the Student Bar which was only two buildings over for an inspection of its layout.

 

It was easy to get out of the Arts Building as there were plenty of Students entering and leaving the building.  However the front of the Student Bar was deserted in comparison.  This wasn’t really that surprising considering it was still early in the morning.

 

I waited patiently by the door until eventually a student went to leave and opened it for me.  The pub was fairly empty inside with most of the few punters on minerals with music playing over the jukebox.  The inside was similar in appearance to a large shed with wooden chairs and tables.  It had a high ceiling and a long counter where you could get served.  I drove up and down the bar pretending to look for somebody so people would not find me weird but in actuality looking for the easiest routes to get up and down the bar where the chairs and tables were that bit further apart.

 

Then when I noticed that a girl was leaving I quickly followed behind her so that I could get through the doors and out again.  I now came up with my plan for later.  I would instruct Patrick that my dinner needed to ready by five o’clock which would allow me enough time to eat, toilet and head down to the bar with Patrick just before he went off duty.

 

There I would get him to order me a drink and with the help of enough glasses stacked one on top of another I would be able to drink out of it on my own when he was gone.  Then maybe go out for a walk after a while and back to the apartment at ten when Leanne would be there.