Skip to main content

Retell a classic fairy tale (myth, folktale) as a proper science fiction story.

When I first invented the particle gun, I had jumped and screamed for joy. I reached out to just about everyone I knew, telling them of my ground-breaking discovery. In retrospect, that might not have been the best decision; money-making means do only come by once in a blue moon, and a wise man would and should not share those means that readily.
I called it the philosopher’s stone, for it had the power to turn anything to gold.
How, you ask?
Well first, you gather as much mercury or iron (I got mine from Derbyshire) as you can, place them right before you, and fire my nifty little device at it. My particle gun accelerates a beam of ionized neutrons at the target at tens of thousands of miles per hour, and voila – Chrysopoeia[1]! I have become supreme Alchemist, a god among men!
Of course, my first few tries ended disastrously – reaction rates were low, so I yielded only microscopic amounts of gold. And the gold I yielded – radioactive! I was stumped! So naturally I tried new methods, and surprisingly increasing the speed of the ionized beam worked! Shooting neutrons at nearly half the speed of light actually managed to both increase the reaction rates as well as reduce the amount of particles emitted from the nuclei by maintaining nuclear stability.
At that point, I knew that I was set for life: not one more day being trapped in this rat race! I was free! They used to laugh at me a lot in school, called me “imp” or “manikin”, patted my head, mocked me. But today, I would officially come out on top! Who needs to be tall and strong and mighty when you possess a power like mine?
You could probably guess what I did next.
I got rich, of course!
I took a trip to the old Derbyshire mine and brought home a sizeable portion of iron (not too large as that would raise some eyebrows, and I wouldn’t want that!). Firing my gun at it was positively orgasmic. I must admit that a few “mad scientist” chuckles came out of me – but it is far better to be mad than poor.
I didn’t flood the market immediately, of course, I’m not stupid. I sold to small dealers: pawn shops and the like. With enough capital and an endless supply of gold, I started my own jewellery store. Gold chains, gold watches, gold everything – I was a dragon and this was my hoard.

Life, however, soon became dull – the successful lifestyle I had carved out for myself grew to bore me. The things that my wealth bought only brought fleeting joy. I so desperately wanted to seek out new experiences that would make this life of mine more… interesting.
That is when I met her.

I had just had a meeting with the King – we had agreed to a trade: his finest wines for a couple of my gold pieces. As I was leaving the palace, I came across a most particular sight in the southern tower: I saw a sobbing girl locked in a room with nothing but bales of straw and a spinning wheel around her. The guard outside her chambers told me of her story: her moronic father had, in an attempt to impress the King, guaranteed that his daughter could spin straw into gold! That story still gets a good laugh out of me every once in a while.
Well anyway I, in my blasé state, decided to have a little bit of fun. To pull a little prank, with the help of my handy little particle gun. The guard allowed me into her chamber (I was a partner of the King’s after all) and I began to play a neat little trick on the rather unfortunate lady.
“Good day to you”, I bellowed, as I barged into the room, “I have told of your predicament! And I believe I can be of assistance!”
She responded with shocked silence. I laughed internally.
“You see, I have a proposition for you. I will turn this straw into gold for you, but in exchange you must… give me your necklace!”
I didn’t really need the necklace, but it was all part of the game!

Exasperated, she threw her necklace at me and pleaded for my help.
“Very well, I shall begin thusly. But first, please turn around and close your eyes. I shan’t reveal my secrets to you!”
With her back turned, I brandished my gun and adjusted the settings accordingly: instead of converting lead I had to convert straw, which was made of elements that had significantly fewer protons than lead. It was no problem, however, as I had designed my gun to work for nearly all elements on earth.
I aimed it at a bale of straw, there was a whirring sound,
“Et Voila! There you go, GOLD!”
She broke out in tears, and wouldn’t stop thanking me as I left the room.
I went back a second time the day after to finish the deal with the King, when I came across her chamber yet again. She was still locked up and sobbing. She explained that he wanted her to make more gold. She begged for my help yet again, and I obliged, this time asking for her ring. She thanked me again and I left.
I went back on the third day. When she inevitably asked for my help once more, I demanded that she repay me by giving me her first-born. I wanted children but no woman would copulate with an imp like myself. Maybe this child would make this dreary life of mine a little brighter.
Surprisingly, she agreed! So I helped her and left.

About a year later, I went to claim what I was promised. I did not wish to be cruel, but she had made a covenant with me.
Like any other mother, she said no. She offered me other things, hoping that would appease me, but I replied, “No, something alive is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.”
And I meant it. However, I chose to be kind and gave her a way out. I told her that if she could guess my name, I would let her keep her child. I gave her three days to find out.
Today is the day: I shall meet her again. I expect to come home from this meeting with a new born baby, for I do not expect her to guess my name. She’ll never get it right.
For I am no Tom, Dick, or Harry. No Caspar, Melchior, or Balthazar. No Shortribs, Sheepshanks, or Laceleg.
I shall have my child today or I’ll tear myself in two.
For my name is…. Rumpelstiltskin! 


[1] Transmutation into gold

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Thematic Summary of The Star by H.G. Wells

H.G. Well’s wrote The Star in 1897, but apocalyptic/disaster fiction had already existed for thousands of years. Well, the authors didn’t think they were writing fiction, but nevertheless, they were still writing speculative ‘non-fiction’. A quick Wikipedia look-up on Google will tell you that hundreds of seers have prophesized the end of mankind. Unfortunately, fortunately, they have all been wrong! Yet, these countless predictions prove a point about our very own human nature: many of us have fetishized the ‘end of the world’. Christians call it the rapture. Vikings called it Ragnarok. Others called it the Apocalypse. All these stories about our eventual end on this earth have a common thread: there is some greater reason for our end to occur – most of the time, it involves the triumph of good over evil. This is where The Star differs in its narrative. Instead of focusing on some grand narrative of good gods achieving a final victory over the forces of evil, it sticks to d

Thematic summary of When It Changed by Joanna Russ

Joanna Russ’ When It Changed centers on a human society made entirely up of women on a planet called ‘Whileaway’. The human colony is void of men because of a plague that occurred thirty generations ago. The females that remained after the plagued managed to survive without the males by a process that sees the merging of ova. This allowed women to reproduced with women, taking away the need for penetrative reproduction and thereby making redundant the role of men in the human reproductive cycle. The story begins when four Russian astronauts arrive on Whileaway. All four of them are male, which makes them the first 4 men that have set foot on the planet in hundreds of years. Their arrival has a profound effect on the women they meet, and we see this effect from the perspective of Janet, a thirty-four-year-old woman that is married to Katy, with whom she has three children. Upon meeting the four men, Janet is immediately taken aback by their physical size – “They are bigger than we ar

Inheritance [Balli Kaur Jaswal]

I really shouldn't attempt to write this... as if this were an assignment due on Monday. It isn't, so I shall not.  Two days - it took me this to finish my first SingLit novel, as far as I can recall.  It was about a family who goes through tough times. This family was Sikh. This family was Singaporean. This family felt, for a few heart-wrenching seconds, like my own.  Dalveer and Harbeer have three children: Gurdev, Narain, and Amrit. Karam is Harbeer's nephew, but he doesn't get to be a narrator in the story, so, screw him. Also, he's an asshole.  We see their story unfold over a period of twenty years - this is paralleled by Singapore's own growth as a nation. We see the effects of rapid industrialisation on the nascent city state, and we begin to identify some of the more... unspoken problems faced by its people. In its endeavour to grow, advance, burgeon -- people, genuinely good people, are left behind. In our  struggle for success, the few am