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Be a good person and read my sci-fi short story!

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Hello everyone,

Since some time I have been wanting to write. But I was one of those guys whose ambition was only triumphed by his lack of accomplishment. Always aiming for the big story, never writing much of it.
Finally I wised up and decided that I should first write a short story and see where it takes me.
So yesterday I did just that. And now I am starving for as much feedback as I can possibly get, since I lack any idea of how my writing actually resonates with someone who isn't me.
I realize that one should give a story time to mature before possibly just embarrassing oneself. And I will do that (no one I personally know gets to see the story for now, for instance). However, the starving man also needs something to endure.

About the story itself: The genre is sci-fi, more hard than soft. And it consist of five parts. The prolog, part one to three and the finale. It is all written down, but in German and so far only the prolog has been translated. So today I shall only post the prolog, but plan to subsequently translate and post the other four parts in the course of this week.
The length of the whole story is about nine pages (in German, which tends to be longer than English, and in my word document).
There is no title yet. But I haven't booked the story as finished, so that also seems premature.

At last, I would ask for your leniency, since this is my first whole story and my writer's heart is still soft and sensitive. You may also want to keep in mind that English is my second language.
However, I also welcome any feedback. About anything. At all. Including grammar nazism.

Thank you for your time and I dearly hope that it won't feel like a waist of it :)

Prolog
Spoiler:
It was meant to be a glass. In three days the big day would have arrived. Years of working towards it. Now a bottle of Whiskey stood half empty by his side.
Within the brown mist he floated through his live, took off from the dirt and was at the place one more time which it was all about after all. An idea. A story.

Professor Moereirar believed to have contributed to the most important invention in the history of mankind. To know so contradicted his critical philosophy, one could also say his decorum as an academic. One did not 'know' such judgmental categories. Or at least it wasn't proper to claim so. But Moereirar actually believed to know it anyway. And in his current state of mind he was acutely tempted to speak of knowledge with a big K. Allowedly, there had been a great many outstanding inventions. The steam engine, electricity, automobiles, the phone, the computer, the Internet, laboratory animal products, nano robots... But for all the weight of these things none of them truly signified an upheaval in itself. They rather appeared to Moereirar as especially large gearwheels in an all the more larger, yes unattainably giant jumble of further gearwheels. And whatever strength one invention could unleash it would still have to exert itself with all the other wheels until anything was about to happen.
But this invention (his invention, called a heckler from the back of Moereirar's mind - after neither consent nor dissent was given, the heckler, arms and legs folded, sat down and grinned complacently) - this invention was to drive the gear wheels until they would glow and spin in the invention's clocking.

But near the end a problem arose. Professor Moereirar took another sip.

Since decades they had tested and tested and tested. Nothing else was conceivable after the first human had cast a glance into this new unbelievable world. For previous imagination of what was stopped at its threshold. Virgin territory. A new land. The ships which undertook to gather pace towards it were congested, even threatened to sink at times. People went overboard. Some into a shark's jaws.
Moereirar had made it. At first as a sailor. Finally as the head of a group of explorers. In the end he was sort of an unofficial king of the new world. He smirked at this peacocky and lesser thought. In the distance someone unfolded his arms and clapped his hands. However, as things moved on the world turned out to be so harmless that 'administrator" was perhaps a more appropriate title. A bureaucrat... yes, he supposed that was how the test serials were to be described, after the magic of the new had dispersed. Bureaucratic.
At first the tests were advanced by the feeling that things were too simple. The explanations to encompassing. The results too consistent. Whatever they changed or tried - it went as smooth as butter on fresh toast. The theory seemed perfect. Sure, the technology made a few problems here and there. And the engineers, material and mechatronic technicians and information scientists did admirable work. Yet from the point of view of a basic researcher like Moereirar at the end of the day this was as ponderous as the best angle to hold your butter knife.
In time another reason was found to continue the tests, as Moereirar fully realized the dormant potential laying within the invention. And fully grasped the scope of the obstacles which were to be overcome to bring it to full fruition. What he understood was that the most decisive test was yet to be carried out. And if it were to go wrong - as unlikely as that seemed - but if it went wrong, then everything would be lost. Nobody would want to travel into the new world. But Moereirar wanted the old world to vanish into the ocean. Not out of malice directed towards it. Rather, because in light of all the new possibilities, its time had come.

And at last things were ready.

They had tested cultivated organs as well as those of the dead. From hair to brain. They had tested food, fed it to animals. Then they tested the animals themselves. Then they had fed them to the humans.
Moereirar cheered in his mind. It had been prepared for perfectly. He was certain it would work just as intended. And then - a few more years of further direct tests with humans; and when it had become undeniable that what was most holy to men - man - would not be diluted, then the big wave could sweep away what was old and reveal what was new. What a wonderful evening of life it would be to be able to watch that. His life's work. Now Moereirar smiled, cushioned in complete complacency. He sighed. Then he dropped his glass with such might on the table that only its thick button prevented it from shattering.
He leaned forward and dug his hands into his hair.

Because then ... everything broke down.

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