... King Trump II : a novel.

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... King Trump II : a novel.

Post by Intrinsic »

Here is a new science fiction novel, "Randolph Running" appropriately before this election it is about a future Trumpian Dynasty. Given to Dkos members to share from the author David Dvorkin. Thanks.

War! Romance! Sex! Skulduggery! Artificial Intelligence!

Synopsis:
Butler, warrior, moral philosopher, robot. Randolph is all that and more.

Randolph is the prized product of Superior Domestics, a Silicon Valley firm dedicated to producing robot servants for people who grew up watching British period costume dramas on PBS. The company's motto is "All the gracious living of Upstairs with none of the unseemly drama of Downstairs."

When the novel opens with the assassination of King Donald II and a coup d'état, Randolph epitomizes that motto. He is calm, quiet, supremely competent, always in the background, and never interfering. He is a mere witness to great events. He is focused on supervising his staff and properly running the household of General Henry Redgrave, architect of the coup and would–be power behind the throne.

But Redgrave's ambitions go far beyond standing behind the throne. He wants to be king himself, and eventually an emperor. Using the crazies of the Hundred Star Flag movement, he begins his intended wave of southern conquest at the Mexican border.

Others have similar ambitions. Anton Moravec, president of a unified, revitalized, and aggressively expansionist European Union, is at war with Russia. His ally, China, is eating up Russian territory at the other end. India watches nervously.

Two beautiful women, natural enemies, are the objects of passion of both men. Lurking in the background are the surviving members of the Trump family, scheming to get back into power.

It's all really terribly complicated. Randolph, whose personal motto is "A place for everything and everything in its place," could probably organize all this and bring about peace and quiet, but what human would knowingly hand that much responsibility over to a machine?

In fact, unthinking, humans have already done so. Increasingly, autonomous machines have taken over tedious duties such as transporting cargo, performing minor surgery, and blowing away trespassers. Randolph is aware of these machines but looks down on them. He and his fellow robot servants are true artificial intelligence, but the digital brains operating these other machines are merely very advanced computers. In Randolph's opinion, they only simulate AI. However, those other machines have thoughts of their own.

As the world descends further into chaos, Randolph is drawn in, ever less the observer and ever more the participant, until at the end he is the very center of all.
Last edited by Intrinsic on Sun Oct 18, 2020 2:51 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Trump II : a novel.

Post by Intrinsic »

How to download the e-book.
Randolph Runner - David Dvorkin.mp4
(410.27 KiB) Downloaded 190 times
Ignore the Play QuickTime part
Click on the MP4 link >> download
Rename the file to a .azw3 extension


example:
Randolph Runner - David Dvorkin.mp4
Rename to:
Randolph Runner - David Dvorkin.azw3

The book will play in any Kindle and most Ereaders, or Kindle app on your phone/device. I can recompile in any other format, if requested. Always DRM free.

Edit :Also available at Amazon now
Last edited by Intrinsic on Sun Oct 18, 2020 3:10 am, edited 1 time in total.

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..assassination of President Donald Trump II : a novel.

Post by Intrinsic »

Chapter one
On New aYear's Eve 2037, the President of the United States, Donald II, smiled politely and raised his champagne glass to acknowledge the toast. In attendance were a few friends, a fair number of family members, and some government officials-toadies all, but what else could a man in his position and of his disposition expect?

The public celebration would be immense, but his wife had insisted on keeping the private one relatively small. It was, he thought, past time to replace her.
"Thank you all so much," he said, reading the scripted words hovering in the air in front of him. He read the lame joke that followed the introduction, smiling in response to the gales of forced laughter, thinking what fools they were, loving his power over them.
If only his father could see him now!
By which he meant his actual father, of course, and not the replacement-although at least he could have been sure of praise from the replacement.
It was Donald II's sixtieth birthday and the twelfth anniversary of his ascension to the presidency, and that power was limitless.
I'm the most powerful man in the world, he thought, the alpha dog of alpha dogs. I can do anything I want. I'll be president for life, and my son will be Donald III after me

Next year, he would dump that oaf Wolfe and install young Donald as vice president. The kid was only 21, but the Constitution had ceased to be a problem years ago.
Happily contemplating the future and the many years of fun, frolic, and big game slaughter ahead of him, Donald II brought his glass to his lips.
Before he could take a sip, he became aware of a disturbance at the entrance to the room. He set the glass down untasted and stared toward the doorway, frowning, disapproving.
There was a sound as if a clumsy waiter had dropped something heavy onto a wooden floor. There were many clumsy waiters in the place.
A dark red, circular spot appeared suddenly on Donald's forehead, just above the midway point between his eyebrows, and his head jerked backward as if in preparation for a sneeze. His body jerked again, twice, and then he leaned forward, all the way, until his face rested on the tablecloth beside the champagne glass.
The president fell, but the glass did not. Not a drop was spilled.
The audience watched with variously disturbed expressions, their own glasses still raised in the aftermath of the toast. They were waiting for the president to drink first. They kept waiting. But Donald II sprawled unmoving. A red stain appeared on the creamy white tablecloth under his head and spread inexorably in all directions.
The guests watched with no more motion than Donald now displayed and no more sound than he now made.

The silence was broken by the sound of a chair being pushed back. Vice President Hiram Wolfe, seated two places away to the president's left, separated from him by the stunned First Lady, rose to his feet.
He cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, "isn't this the doggondest thing? I guess I'm President of these United States now." He chuckled. "Sure as hell ain't president of any other United States."
He waited for laughter, but there wasn't any. The crowd was still stunned. Many still held their glasses up, although some had drained theirs already and were hoping for refills to sustain them. They were all making rapid calculations about the future.
"Now, some of you may be finding all of this a bit irregular," the newly minted President of these United States said. "I understand. I do. I understand that."

He looked over the heads of the crowd to the ballroom's exit. A tall, uniformed man stood there. His broad chest glittered with insignia of rank and other undeserved rewards given him by a foolish nation. This was General Henry Roberts McDowell Redgrave, dubbed by the media "Howlin' Hank," a nickname his adoring troops had quickly adopted but which he despised.

Redgrave nodded to Wolfe, indicating that everything was proceeding properly.
"Irregular," President Hiram I repeated. "But we'll all adjust to the new reality quickly. If you don't think you can, if you prefer not to be part of our new America, if you feel too much a part of the America of-" he gestured toward the ooling corpse "-the old days, I won't hold it against you. You can simply leave right now and go back to your old lives."
There was hesitation and uncertainty in the room. Then a few people tentatively stood up. They looked around, gauging how many were with them. They looked questioningly at the head table.

"That's right," Wolfe said. "That's fine. Go right ahead. You're fine. Please exit through the main door, right behind you, where General Redgrave is standing."
Heads swiveled suddenly. There were startled looks as the crowd realized that the famous Howlin' Hank was there to support President Hiram. A few people who had stood now sat down again.

Wolfe chuckled.

Those who still stood, the remaining Donald II loyalists, headed for the exit, some looking worried, some frightened, some defiant.
Wolfe watched them, mentally ticking off names. The list was about what he had expected.
The now ex-First Lady was not among them. That surprised him. She was still sitting frozen in place.
Not bright enough to know what to do, Wolfe thought. ...

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..assassination of President Donald Trump II : a novel.

Post by ben ttech »

never give extremists a myrtyr...
"disaster is the mother of necessity" rSin

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... King Trump II : a novel.

Post by Intrinsic »

Yeah thanks. I change the title. I thought President Trump2, was good clickbait then King Trump2, from synopsis. Changed it again Best not to call attention to the site with those two words together.

Don't you want to find out what happens next. Is this the end of the Trump Dynasty? And It has robots! Explores ramifications of artificial intelligence in Society, Sentience.

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... King Trump II : a novel.

Post by Intrinsic »

Couple other formats to try.. rename extension to the appropriate one.
Attachments
Randolph Runner - rtf format.mp4
(548.41 KiB) Downloaded 162 times
Randolph Runner - pdf format.mp4
(1.23 MiB) Downloaded 162 times

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