Robert Reed

Background and Bio

Notes about me.....

I was born and bred on a dairy farm in
Somerset, England and so I am very much a wurzel
and proud of it. After 21 years of hard work on the
farm I decided that enough was enough and moved
to Berkshire so that I could be where the Computer
work is. I now work as a computer programmer and
repair engineer. While the work is not exactly
challenging, I can devote more brain time towards
my main interests which are Technology, Archeology
and Writing. During my "Education" I could not make
my mind up, exactly what I wanted to be when I went
out into the big wide world and so I decided to get as
many different subjects as I could manage. It took
several years but I ended up with qualifications from
Catering to Agriculture and from Computer Control
Technology to English Literature. I am an avid fan of
anything scientific or technological and follow all of
the major scientific journals. I have a working
knowledge of quantum physics, biology, astro
physics and Electronics.

In my spare time I do a great many things
besides using the Internet and writing my weekly
article. I build Electronic projects such as Robotic
equipment and computer interfaces. I read a great
deal, mostly Science Fiction and Fantasy and my
favorite authors are Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchet,
Graham Hancock and Arthur .C. Clarke.

Another passion of mine is Archeology and the
lost civilizations. The Aztecs, Mayas and Egyptians
hold a particular fascination to me, as they appear to
have developed technologies well beyond their time.
Myself and a friend of mine are currently
researching a book based on some currently popular
theories although I will refrain from discussing this in
detail in mortal fear of flames from various
segments of society.

In the past I have written a great many short
stories and I am in the middle of a fantasy novel,
based on a world that I spent a great deal of time
creating. Most of the short stories that I have written
are based on Science Fiction, although I have also
written about topics as diverse as Euthanasia and
social observation.

Here's one I prepared earlier........

The sun had set hours ago and so it was just
the dull glow of the street lamps that glistened on the
wet pavement by the old stone arch that led down to
the shelter. Kial leant against the wall watching the
rain soak the empty street, although his thoughts
wandered he was careful to keep one eye focused
on his surroundings. Finally the rain slowed to a
steady drizzle and so he took one final look around
and when he was satisfied that he was totally alone
he made his way through the arch and down the

As he approached the opening that led into the
shelter Kial could make out the diseased coughs and
groans of the shelters inhabitants, he could also
sense the deep feeling of misery that seemed to
permanently engulf this place, taking a deep breath
he ventured into the cavernous room. The sight of
hundreds of makeshift mattresses strewn across the
expanse of floor each one containing a person
whose life was in a state of rapid decay, was enough
to fill anyone with a feeling so intense that it would
stop them dead in their tracks, but Kial had long
since been hardened to this scene and he just strode
across the distance that separated him from his

Rebecca knelt beside an old man who was
growing visibly weaker by the second. She gently
cradled his head with one arm and fed him with
some thick soup from the enormous pot that sat
steaming on a trolley nearby. She glanced up as Kial
approached and smiled, "I thought we might see you
tonight" she said quietly. Kial waited patiently while
Rebecca finished her task and then motioned her to
a quiet part of the shelter, "They know" He said in an
urgent voice. "They have to be moved and soon."

Rebecca put her finger against Kial's lips and
hurriedly looked around, making sure that they
would not be overheard. "Some of them are too sick
to be moved", she said, failing to conceal her
concern, "and I fear that most of the others would
not make it very far." "Nevertheless Rebecca", Kiel
replied firmly, "if they want to live at all they will
have to be moved to safety." "Where can they go ?"
Rebecca asked desperately, it will take us several
days to find a secure place that is even close to this

"A government lease has expired at a
warehouse nearby" Kiel explained carefully, "it will
be empty for the next six months and I have
arranged to have a sympathizer put in the place of
the caretaker."

"How far is it Kiel ?"

"No more than a mile west of here." he replied.

"A mile to us might as well be ten to them."
Rebecca said shaking her head.

"For God's sake, Rebecca !" Kiel exploded "We
have to do something, leaving them here would
certainly seal their fate, at least I am offering them
an alternative."

"I know Kiel" , Rebecca said wiping the tears
from her eyes. "It just gets to me sometimes. It's not
right, why must they be hunted like criminals ?
They've done nothing wrong."

"Remember Beccy, other people simply don't
feel the way that you or I do." Kiel said putting an
arm around her shoulder and giving her a reassuring

"I still think it's utterly barbaric, they should be
caring for them, not tracking them to their deaths."

"Get as many as you can ready to leave before
midnight and I will return with some transport." Kiel
said. He had decided to take action as quickly as he
could before it was too late.

"I can only do my best." Rebecca replied
stubbornly. The stress of the weeks events had
started to eat away at her and she had found herself
with nerves that were frayed to the point of breaking.


Moving swiftly on.

Here is an extract from my fantasy book
that I am currently working on.

Deep in the recesses of a particularly small
dimension that up until now has remained dormant,
a spark glimmers and dies, moments later a another
spark appears lasting a little longer than the first until
it too fades. As the time creeps on more sparks
appear, each lasting a little longer than the one

It had started.
* * *

The "Wig and Pistle" was a pub. Not a very
special pub, not even a very popular pub but there
was no mistaking the fact that it was a pub. It stood
or rather squatted, in a remote little village, deep in
the heart of Somerset. It had the traditional sign
outside which had once depicted it's name in an
extremely graphical way, but due to it's age and the
constant barrage of mother nature, the only name
that you could obtain from it was "The rotting plank",
not a very flattering name for any establishment.

On the night in question, the rain beat down
on it's roof and ran down it's light sandstone, ivy
covered walls. It reached the places that only
builders dared to probe, usually after charging you
some astronomical fee.

Within this establishment sat David Wirrell.
To say that he had had a rotten day would by a very
heavy understatement. David was utterly depressed.
It was not the sort of depression that comes and
goes with your average mood swing, it was the sort
of pure, distilled emotion that comes with months of
practice and careful training. His fifteenth vodka had
completely failed to drag his mind away from the
simple fact that he hated his life. There was an
empty space around David that had mysteriously
cleared itself. It was the sort of space that normally
accumulates around the solitary drinker who is really
serious about his task.

It wasn't just the fact that David had not
enjoyed his day but the cumulative effect of many
things. First of all he hated his job, it was not that he
did not appreciate having a job, because he did, it
was just that he did not appreciate having his
particular job. He had even tried thinking about the
poor sods in the world who were a lot worse off than
he was, it hadn't helped. David was a car mechanic.
Secondly he was also what could only be described
as short. You might be wondering what these two
subjects have in common, so did David. Yes he had
been through all the jokes about Mini's and not
having to lift the car up to get underneath. He had
even put up with the phrase vertically challenged
which his friends felt was less insulting, the only
problem with that was that they used the expression
more often than they should. You might think that
this would upset him but not a bit of it. It positively
made his blood boil. David was utterly sick of
repairing other peoples treasured scrap heaps, in
fact he could even remember one single day that he
had enjoyed since he had started. He did enjoy
studying industrial design and structures, but he did
not get much of a chance to study it because he
refused to own a car due to his acute dislike of all
motor vehicles.

Thinking on he turned his mind to his
appearance. He had hair that did not quite qualify to
be mousy and yet failed to be brown, the closest
anyone had come to putting the colour of his hair
into words was his mother who had referred to it as a
muddy colour. His eyes were not blue enough to be
called blue and yet they didn't rate highly enough in
the green department to be called green. His did not
have small feet and yet they could hardly be
described as big. He was the sort of size where it
was impossible to buy clothes that would fit and
shoes that he could do nothing but grow into, the
only problem was that he had stopped growing about
five years before he wanted to. Life for him was not
only a bitch but the mother of all bitches. Well it was
pretty bad anyway.

That is why we now find him sat in a corner
nursing his depression slamming back neat Vodka
and, for some bizarre reason, stacking the glasses in
the shape of an ornate pyramid.

* * *

The sparks had become solid points of
existence. A sinister blue flame covered what could
only be called the floor. It was no ordinary flame, this
was a flame with menace, wicked shapes seemed to
flicker just on the edge of perception, not able to be
seen but as difficult to ignore as a Lobotomy.
Gradually it grows, steadily, as if it has all the time in
the world.

It has.


As a deep and meaningful person I think
that the acquisition of knowledge helps my ability to
understand life in general and It is to this end that I
am constantly seeking new contacts within the
Internet who have similar interests. If you are
interested in Technology, Science Fiction, Fantasy,
Physics, The Occult, Lost Civilisations, Atlantis or
Archeology, then drop me a line.

Remember the truth is out there.

Robert Reed
Columnist, Internet Daily News
Technology Corner

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