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1000 word challenge #5 – ERADICATION

This one turned into more of a 2000 word challenge, but it was fun to FINALLY finish the darn thing.

ERADICATION

Mark-Dalvin Alfod stared through his ten-power hunting scope mounted atop his six-thousand dollar Gross-Kaiser Mk XXXII bolt action rifle that used Seven Millimeter Magnum cartridges. Combined with the Kin-no-Ka (Gold Fire) variable scope, the rifle could put all five rounds in a one inch bullseye at four hundred yards. As the crosshairs of the scope settled on the young raccoon, it looked up directly at Mark-Dalvin as if it knew he was aiming at it. Then it slowly raised one paw (the right one) and while still looking back at Mark-Dalvin, and slowly moved its paw in a waving motion.

“Chuck, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Mark-Dalvin asked his spotter. Chuck (yes that’s his given name) Kornienko shifted his spotting scope slightly to the left, and stared for a long moment without saying anything.

“I see it, MD. Is that little snot waving at us?” Chuck replied.

“I do think it is.” Mark-Dalvin said in an amused voice.

The two men made up A-K Exterminations, and had a thriving business in pest removal. Both were experienced hunters and specialized in large pest removal. Most of their efforts were toward coyotes and wild hogs in northwest Georgia. Both were ex-Marines who’d served in Afghanistan. Mark-Dalvin had two deployments, Chuck had one. They’d met and been teamed together during Mark-Dalvin’s second deployment and had hit it off. To their surprise, they found out they actually lived two blocks apart in Dalton, Georgia.

The fit seemed so natural that they went into business after their deployment, settling on an extermination service as it gave an outlet for the attitude and skills the Marines had drilled into them. Their first success was eliminating a feral dog pack that had attacked a child. The dogs had been savvy enough to avoid the local hunters, a number of whom were what one might say ‘skilled’ in tracking.

Chuck purchased and modified three drones which proved to be the solution. He tied the three to his state-of-the-art laptop and ran a comprehensive search pattern. The drones flew at one thousand feet as that way any high frequency noise from rotors or other moving parts would not be likely heard by the dogs.

Once the pack was discovered, it was tracked for two weeks by drone relays. Chuck had set the drones on a cycle of track and recharge, with the recharging done with landing stations set up in a central location of the pack’s territory. They successfully took the pack apart over the next two weeks, often taking a pack member or two with precision distance shots.

This success got them attention and more work, with each success rolling into more success and larger contracts for troublesome pests. Using tactics further refined by use, they became well known for delivering on contracts by eliminating droves of pigs, packs of coyotes, and other large pests. Then came a call about raccoons running rampant at night in Chickamauga with neighborhood pets being attacked and in some cases going missing.

So the call went out to exterminators to get rid of the pests. For Chuck and Mark-Dalvin, this job was a rude shock to their belief in professionalism. Simple bait traps didn’t work. Sitting on a nearby building with a silenced .22 never got a sighting, much less a shot at a raccoon. Eachnight was a cacophony of noise from two or three locations. All showed raccoon damage and/or wounded pets, but never any raccoons wherever they went. Nothing until today.

“Doesn’t this feel kind of weird Mark? That little shit’s looking straight at us, just waving that paw.”

Chuck’s voice was suspicious. All this time running around chasing their own tail and suddenly there’s one, just one raccoon in the middle of an open field, waving like it was supposed to be seen. It’s like this guy’s supoosed to keep our…OH SHIT! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! Mark-Dalvin grabbed his rifle and ran, following Chuck. He looked the direction Chuck was running. Their pickup was rolling down hill at an increasing speed.

“No…nononononono…” Chuck said in despair as the truck unerringly aimed for a large tree and hit it at about twenty miles an hour, crunching the bumper and the hood, crushing the radiator between the tree and the engine. Mark-Dalvin spotted three raccoons tumble from the cab. He skidded to a halt and raised the rifle. A quick snap shot nailed one of the critters and a follow up shot killed another, the third was into the trees before he could get the third shot off.

“MD! What the hell happened with the truck?!” Chuck gasped as he ran to the pickup. The smell of anitfreeze permeated the air as the two men arrived at the red and yellow vehicle. The engine rattled to a stop.

“My truck! Chuck pulled open the driver door, and immediately three raccoons all full grown males, immediately powered into him and all four went down in a snarling screaming heap. Chuck screamed high and hard as he was bitten repeatedly Mark-Dalvin dropped his rifle in the truck bed and pulled his Glock, hoping to get a shot. He fired off line into the turf, and the raccoons scattered, actually running into the trees and staying in line with the tree to obscure his shooting. The raccoons screamed as they ran and one stopped to stare back at the two men, then ran a zig-zag path to dodge the pistol bullets.

Chuck howled in rage and bolted to his feet. He rummaged behind the driver’s seat and hauled out his pump shotgun. He grabbed a box of shells, slammed it open in the driver’s footwell and stufed his pockets with the loose shells. “I’M GONNA KILL THOSE MOFO’s!” he howled and started charging off after the raccoons. The one that had stopped to watch seemed to recognize the weapon and dropped to all fours dodging toward a tree, but a nine-millimeter broke it’s hip and the buckshot shredded the creature. Blood seeped scarlet into the snow and screeches emanated from deeper into the trees.

“This is weird Chuck. We need to get back to town.” Mark-Dalvin was upset. Chuck was bleeding from his scalp. His face was bitten up and he was nearly out of his mind in rage. Only Mark-Dalvin’s hand on his friend’s arm kept Chuck from following the raccoons into the woods.

“We can’t get back to town, in case you haven’t noticed, the truck’s dead!” Chcuk snarled. Mar-Dalvin realized that right now Chuck was badly hung up on the raccoons after they tried to maul him. I can’t blame him, they did a number on his scalp. I’d probably be pissed as hell too, but something just seems off in all this. He figured it would be smarter to let Chuck work off the mad he had on rather than listen to him complain all the way back to town.

He rummaged in the back of the truck, deciding against any long arms for this foray. He had his nine millimeter Glock and six fifteen round magazines plus one in the pistol. That should be enough. Mark-Dalvin also grabbed his large Arkansas toothpick from the back and then locked the cover so the critters couldn’t get into it. They got into the truck somehow, I guess we forgot to lock it. Not this time you crap little bandits.

He trotted to catch up to Chuck who’d started off singlemindedly following the raccoon footprints into the woods. Mark-Dalvin settled on his friend’s right so he could cover left with the shotgun.

“Kind of like Afghanistan only with more trees, eh?” MD said quietly as they moved forward. Chuck hunched his shoulders, a clear sign of irritation. Mark-Dalvin sighed to himself and quit attempting to get Chuck to talk. He kept checking right and back, looking for movement and unhappily not finding any. They ran this way, the tracks are clear, so how can those damn bandits disappear so fast?

The answer literally dropped in. Above Mark-Dalvin was a rustling sound which stopped him in his tracks. That stop saved him. The huge boar raccoon missed dropping on him by a hair’s width. Chuck wasn’t so lucky. He was hammered flat by a similar big raccoon, dropping directly on his shoulder and neck. Three more followed down with four others charging from under the snow. Chuck screamed as the raccoons commenced to maul him en masse. The shotgun went off once and then the screaming turned to a gurgling gasp.

MD was in motion the moment the other raccoons charged. He dropped three with four quick shots, then had to dodge the one that had nearly dropped on him. It had landed hard, and limped with a damaged rear foot. That didn’t stop its aggressive attempts to bite his ankle. It took four shots to finally stop his attacker, but the moment needed to save Chuck had long passed.

Mark-Dalvin looked over to Chuck and blood made the snow around his body crimson. His face was shredded, nose and lips were gone, his scalp hung partway over his face and his neck had been torn open just below his skull. They killed him! They’re going to get me!

Mark ran as fast as he could push himself in the snow. The raccoons followed behind him, screeching and spreading out, creating a crescent to his sides and behind. Fortunately, Mark-Dalvin was headed directly for the best protection he knew of. The pickup he and Chuck had bought for the business. It had an extended cab, room to hole up and fight back. He ejected the partly filled magazine and inserted a fresh one. You never waited to run out of bullets before changing clips, you changed to a full magazine first chance you got. Empty magazines in the middle of a firefight made for dead soldiers.

His lungs were near bursting when he cleared the remaining distance from the trees to the truck. The dead tree no foliage to hide any raccoons and there were no other trees around to break up any silhouettes with their branches. He was safe! He stumbled to the unlocked cab and grabbed the door, and raccoons boiled out of the cab, hitting MD in the chest, knocking him prone in the snow.

Pain lanced through his legs as more raccoons charged out from under the pickup, latching onto his legs and feet, and starting to tug him under the pickup. He fired the pistol, killing four on his right leg before a large male grabbed his wrist and chewed hard, tearing tendons and crippling him. Another grabbed his left arm, tearing and tugging at it. He tried to scream but a huge boar leapt on his chest knocking the wind out of him. It grabbed his face and began tearing at it, blinding him and muffling his agonized screams with its large body. Mark-Dalvin disappeared under the pickup where muffled screams faded to dying whimpers and finally silence.

Five weeks after search parties came up empty looking for the missing men, a farmer called in a request for a tow truck to take an abandoned vehicle off his property. The truck was identified as belonging to A-K Exterminations, and a search was done of the area. Evidence of human remains were found and DNA confirmed it was the two missing men. Cause could not be determined because the remains had been scattered by scavengers.

1000 word challenge #3

 

Engineer 1st class Michelle “Mickie” O’Herne walked across the floating dry dock towards debriefing. Her demeanor was calm but as anyone who knew her, that was akin to watching an approaching storm. One of her fellow engineers winced sympathetically as she strode past in her dress uniform. The deep blue weather coat hung down to her ankles against the cold air and cinched at the waist with a ceremonial tool belt, and up with lapels opened showing an immaculate white shirt with the Medal of Valor showing at her throat. Her hands and arms were protected by Heavy leather and steel vambraces over thick leather ceremonial work gloves. Her peaked officer’s hat with steel spiral and brass connector flanking the work spotlight proclaimed her rank. Her thick chestnut hair fell in loose curls just past her shoulders. Unlike most engineers, she didn’t shave her head to work in the Aether Engines. She was always aware of the potential danger of the numerous moving pieces of equipment.

The 227 Fleet air-port and dock bustled with activity as ships were receiving stores and fuel as they were readied for patrol, others going through regular maintenance to remove plant growth that slowed the ships down and weakened the hulls. Other small launches scurried officers and ratings about for meetings, classes, or shore leave as Mickie wished she could have.

All the while she seethed internally. How could she have been maneuvered into this situation without noticing the problem aforehand? Her jaw clenched and her eyes stared straight ahead as she went over the facts in her head. The secondary difference engine had been completely disassembled in the weeks before the launching of Endurance. She’d been an integral part of the reassembly and testing to make certain that it successfully verified the primary Difference stacks in primary navigation. That she was the lead engineer rankled some of the older hands due to her lower rank. That she was a recognized, decorated hero was another mark against her. Her words had weight. Captain Hohenzoller knew the details of the Aerlahyn action, it’s near destruction and her role in the jury-rigging of the Aether Engine that ultimately saved the ship and crew.

Performed at great hazard, she’d won accolades and a promotion of two ranks to her current that put her ahead of and in charge of the engineering section of the Endurance, to the consternation and jealousy of her peers. Now she was being called to account for the errors in navigation computing that nearly destroyed the airship when it drifted too low and collided with a nest of Tilia Maren, the floating trees that hovered at the edge of the gravity well of Aerie, a unique planet in the Royal Eiren Empire.

Aerie was a planet without a core, a unique gas giant outside of a normal solar system. It’s light was provided by a very compressed core that emitted light in random intervals as it spun rapidly. The Atmosphere that surrounded the core was breathable and made of layers, the one most important was the outermost which held a breathable atmosphere. Twelve miles thick, with large nests of branching woody trees that collected near the edge of the Gravity well, or just ‘The Well’. Go beyond the trees and the planet sucked you down into the core, which is what nearly happened to the Endurance.

The miscalculation was due to one wheel in the Difference engine being one tooth off of true, which created a subtle but significant deviation in Navigation. It was the type of mistake that shouldn’t happen as all gears were notched to ensure their proper meshing. She couldn’t fathom the reason for such a bit of sabotage other than her promotion. It was her watch so regardless of the cause, she would go before a review board to determine her future in the Aether Corps.

* * * * *

Mickie knocked on the Superintendent of Ships door, then entered. She nearly broke out in a cold sweat as she saw the Grand Officers instead of the Superintendent. Admiral Josia-Joshen Abberlane, Head of Internal Security, Vice-Admiral Kenne Moten who headed her Fleet 227, and two others she didn’t immediately recognize, were standing by four identical naval style desks. The desks were arranged in a quarter circle in front of a single armless chair. Mickie marched to the chair and stood behind it. Admiral Abberlane shifted and Mickie snapped to attention. She saluted with all her parade ground training – “Engineer 2nd class Michaelle O’Herne reporting as ordered, sirs!”

Abberlane harrumphed then returned the salute as did the others. “At ease, Engineer. Please take your seat.”

Mickie sat as the others adjusted their chairs which squealed as the metal studs on the bottom scraped across the concrete floor. Outwardly she appeared calm and attentive to the board, but inwardly she was thoroughly intimidated. She knew an inquiry was handled by four officers, but to have four Admirals sitting in was in her mind a situation beyond her expectations. Granted the near-loss of an entire ship was cause for alarm, but usually these things were supposedly handled by a board of captains of commodores, not ranking officers.

“You are likely aware of the gravity of your situation considering the members of this inquiry board”, Admiral Abberlane stated as a fact, not a question.

“I am now, sir Admiral” Mickie replied formally. She bit back the questions she wanted to ask, but military protocol demanded she remain silent until time was allowed for questions.

“Your unfortunate adventure has called this inquiry together to ascertain the errors leading to the near loss of the R.E.E.S. Endurance.” Abberlane said formally, then paused for a moment before continuing, “However this is not the case. You are here because of two signal incidents – the Aerlahyn and the Endurance. Both ships succumbed to the same error, a gear out of tolerance, both of them in the same numbered stack of the Difference Engine for both navigation, and navigational checking.” He paused once more to let the information sink in.

He continued “The manufacturer of these parts have records showing each gear as measured and within the tolerances demanded by Aether Corps Procurement. The manufacturing has been cleared of any wrongdoing. That leaves us incompetency in assembly, or deliberate sabotage. We have lost fifteen ships of exploration. All have been in this Protectorate, others in adjoining wilderspace. The only two survivors of near fatal accidents are the two vessels previously mentioned. Your report from the Endurance was the flash point for this inquiry.” He paused again then one of the Admirals Mickie hadn’t recognized spoke.

“Looking back at activity between ourselves, The Aerie Protectorate of the Eiren Empire, and the Hanseatic League of Planets, we have determined that this is no coincidence. The Hanseatic League seems to have agents provocateur within our fleet. So we must needs find a method to pinpoint the saboteur or saboteurs. Therefore, for the purpose of the investigation, you will be broken to Engineer 6th , your medal of Valor revoked for gross negligence, and will be under official parole to be listed as four years. “ He stopped speaking and smiled thinly. “In reality you will be working under me. I am Vice-Admiral Paxom head of Internal Security. Your mission will be to make contact with the saboteurs, and if possible, identify the organization and the reason behind this sabotage.” Vice-Admiral Paxom drew a breath and continued.

“Upon completion of the mission, your rank will be reinstated as will your very deserved medal.” He paused once again before finishing. “Will you accept this assignment, Engineer O’Herne?”

Thousand word challenge 2

Here’s the latest challenge and the picture.

“So what have you come here for? No one would come into a Dragon’s lair unless they were confident and/or desperate.”

The creature in question’s body was easily twenty paces long from the tip of it’s snout to the base of it’s tail, with said tail being another twenty paces in length. The creature was resting on its’ back partially propped up against the cave wall it’s rear legs stretched out lazily as it’s right hand held a dragon-sized pipe. It set the pipe in it’s fanged mouth and inhaled deeply, the bowl glowing a fierce red, before it exhaled, filling the small cavern with odd smelling smoke.

The young human, who set upon the curve of the muscular tail coughed as the smoke enveloped her. She waved her hand fruitlessly attempting to get a breath of fresh air. Then she glared defiantly at the creature’s face.

“Let’s clear up a few mistakes. First, you’re a Wurm, not a dragon. Dragons have wings, they can fly, and breath fire.” She held up her hand as the Wurm’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “Secondly, if you decide to eat me, I can’t stop you, but since I am the daughter of the Baron of this territory, I’m sure there’s a bunch of knights wanting to curry my father’s favor by killing the very Wurm that ate his child.”

The Wurm, now really wishing it was a dragon so it could roast this uppity human child and fly away, inhaled another deep breath of smoke and exhaled at the child once again.

“So I’m a Wurm.” He sighed dramtically raising his other claw to his head “Oh what am I to do with this vile human who threatens my very existence?”

In truth, Hesta was a very timid Wurm who actually feared humans, for the simple reason which this irritating girl had already explained. As he listened his mind whirled close to panic. How was he going to survive this? He’d move if he could, but Dragons and Great Wurms, which he wasn’t, are VERY territorial, and suffer no others like them in their home range. If he tried to travel, he’d be torn to pieces, and if he stayed, well, humans. Enough said of that.

“Well, the girl said, only coughing slightly from the smoke-laden air, “I would like to make it a fair trade with you. What I want would be for you to do is kidnap me and make me your servant.”

Hesta’s eyes grew wide as his green on green skin paled to a green-white. He spluttered and coughed hard and harshly for about ten seconds. He glared at the little female.

“I do not believe my earholes understood you correctly. You, a human, a small human, a small, helpless human, want to be my servant? What a thought, I have a human here with me doing what I tell it to do.” He glared at the young girl. “Are you trying to get me killed?! The moment any would be hero finds out I have a human living with me, they’ll be coming to kill me and steal my treasure…” he looked around at the few scattered coins on the floor of the cavern…”such as it is.”

He lowered his tail and shook it gently to dislodge the girl, who slid awkwardly to the ground. She picked herself up and adjusted her clothes. She then turned to meet Hesta’s eyes. In the ensuing stare down, it was Hesta who blinked first. Inwardly cursing his timid nature, and kThe girlnowing he was on the verge of giving in he sought to stall until he could find a weakness to exploit and make the girl go away.

“So, what’s in this…servitude…to me? All I’ve heard so far is wanting to be my servant, which as I stated earlier, is a definite not happening.”

The girl gave him a most unsettling smile, one that reminded him of a sibling when he’d gotten a wonderful awful idea. “What if I said I could turn you into a dragon if you took me as your servant?”

“I…” Hesta started, then stumbled, completely flabbergasted. “Me, a Dragon?!” His mind whirled with the thought of having wings and flying. His deepest desire made true. At the same time the cynic in him was screaming about when something sounds too good to be true, it is.

His left claw flashed out and grabbed the girl, lifting her into the air to be held in front of his toothy maw.

“Do you take me for a fool, little girl?” he said, menace dripping from his mouth. The girl was suddenly wide-eyed as she suddenly realized that she was on the razor’s edge between life and oblivion.

“No! I don’t! “ she gasped out as her clothes half-choked her. “I’m a mage, I can do it.”

“Oh really? Do you think I’m so gu….” a HUGE flaming ball twice the size of Hesta’s head appeared above the girl’s upraised hand. He quickly placed her back on the ground. “I am so sorry for my temper good mage. Let’s chat more about your reasons for being here” he said smoothly and with only the slightest quaver in his voice. Teh girl let the fire ball disappate. Then sat down and looked up at Hesta.

“I owe you an expanation…an apology too.” She shrugged and started talking so softly that Hesta had to lean down a bit to hear her clearly.

“I was summoned here from another world because those … she seemed to search for an appropriate word… scumbags wanted a powerful mage to lead their troops into war so they could wipe out their neighbors and claim their land. So I left after blowing a hole in their castle. They quit chasing me after I fried their entire Wyvern Corps. That fat baron had the gall to proclaim me his daughter so he could get the money the kingdom wanted to use to …well…turn me into their weapon.  That won’t stop bounty hunters though. Anyway, I remembered some of the locals saying you lived down this way, so I came to look you up.”

Hesta felt something completely foreign to him…excitement. If the wizard was truly that strong, he just might be able to turn a Lesser Wurm into a Lesser Dragon! He looked down, a crocodile like grin spreading across his face.

“I accept you as my servant Miss…err…what’s your name?”

She sat straighter and her hood fell back to reveal bright copper red hair.

“I’m Hannah Absent.”

“Very well Hannah Absent, now You are accepted as my servant. Now how does such an illustrious mage as yourself go about making me a Dragon…?”

1000 word challenge

Hi!  It’s been a while.  A really really long while, eh?  Anyways, it’s been very hard to get back into writing, and a friend suggested this challenge to spark me.  It worked so I wanted to share this story and see how well a first attempt after four years of pretty much nothing creative happening. The idea was to craft a 1000 word story from a picture.  Below is the picture in question, and below that is the story.  I hope it entertains.

 

Snow fell lightly upon the wooded rocky terrain as David Jacks fell backward from the impact of blade on wood. The thick branch was half cut through from the attack. The blade stuck, and a powerful tug ripped his club from his hands. Landing on his back in the thick snow, he watched the warrior woman, grab the stuck branch and yank it free of her blade. She tossed the branch aside and strode slowly forward, a predator focusing on her prey.

The fur armor covered all of her excepting her muscular long legs, which were clad in fur boots held in place with leather cord wrapped to mid-calf. Her wrists were covered with hard leather bracers with silvery glowing knotwork. Runes etched in the sword glowed red, black smoke curling ominously into the air. David looked up at Joris Khell. She towered over him and raised the sword high… “CUT!”

Joris ground to a halt, freezing in place. Servos whirred in protest to stop the weapon’s momentum. The blade stopped at a forty-five degree angle. David watched the blade and the woman for a moment, then relaxed mentally with a sigh of relief. He held his position as the crew scrambled to get the next part of the shot ready. He shifted slightly, careful not to touch the snow or expand his print in it. Through the canvas and fur pants the first trickle of ice water touched his thigh. He hoped that filing would continue so he wouldn’t be sitting in ice water. He also hoped Joris wouldn’t fall on him. Four hundred pounds of android would hurt.

“All right, set up!” Cavalier Hansen shouted. Clad in blue jeans and a bright orange “Live Wire” T-shirt, he looked the part of the harried dedicated director with black hair sticking out in all directions like the man who’s stuck a finger in a live light socket. “We’ve got only two more hours of proper light and we’re behind schedule! Let’s get the fight scene done. Joris, you ready? “

“I am compromised, Director Hansen. My right shoulder servo is frozen.” replied the statuesque android, her voice tinged with an apologetic cadence. Chris ran a hand theatrically down his face. Taking a deep sigh and slowly nodding as he counted to ten before speaking.

“How long to fix?” he asked with exaggerated politeness.

“For this take, I can force movement, and take fifteen minutes to have a new one inserted, but I will only get one swing and it must miss as I cannot control it once I force movement.”

Chris nodded, then finally turned his gaze to the sitting David Jacks.

“How about it, Dave? Can you dodge a wild swing from there?”

“I can”, he said, still staying frozen as the ice water from the melting snow began to soak his costume, making him uncomfortably cold. “As an idea, what if she shifted her sword to a reverse grip and stabbed down? A stab is easier to dodge than a swing, plus she can aim off to my left and the camera will still see it as going for me.”

“I concur with this idea”, Joris said with a warm smile. “My hand and wrist are unaffected. It would be a simple and direct move to create. The range of motion is identical to the swing, but more interesting. Joris sees him as both a lover, and a betrayer. I think the stab evokes that opposing emotions.”

Cavalier nodded, his eyes lighting up as he listened.

“Good job both of you. Keep to the script and use the stab. Okay people! Two minutes to set up, call out when ready…”

“Lights ready!” ‘Mirrors ready!” “Fogger ready!” “Camera ready!” “Extras ready!” Cavalier nodded with each ‘ready!’ and when the last one, the safety officer reported ‘ready!’ he shouted, “Clapper! Go scene – shot – take” The woman dressed in camo pants and a black T-shirt said “Scene thirty-nine, shot eight, take three.” She closed the clapper and ducked back as Cavalier shouted “Action”.

The shot went well with the brokenhearted Joris beginning the final climactic battle with David, her equally brokenhearted opponent locked in a duel where only one could walk away. After “Cut! Print!”, time was called so Joris could repair her servo. David followed her to the special effects shed. She was six and a half feet tall and perfectly proportioned. Her right arm swayed awkwardly still holding the longsword point down as she strode purposefully to the shed.

“Nunez! You in there?”, David called pronouncing Nunez as ‘Noo-nez’. “Lady here has a shoulder needs looking at.”

“I’ll be right out, I’m cleaning some water outta a ground strobe. Be a moment.” Tomas Nunez replied, his voice originating behind a thick canvas curtain. The shed was actually a twelve by twenty-four foot Army tent. The eight foot walls made for decent open space inside…if Tomas hadn’t spread all the SFX gear on the floor. David walked to the tent flap and pulled it back to peek inside.

Nunez was wrestling with a large boxy strobe light in his laps in the middle of a small bare space surrounded by what David guessed were parts of the strobe light. A gray-striped tabby sniffed at the light as Tomas dried off another piece and set it aside. He glanced up at the sound of the canvas movement and grinned at David.

“You’ll never guess who wiped out this one.”

David snuck a quick peek to the dry-erase board and spotted the new name on the list Tomas kept. “The director? He’s always in that overhead chair watching the scenes. “

Tomas chuckled. “He dropped his cola and bullseyed the strobe while they were shooting Grace and Matthew’s scene. The cola, which he shouldn’t have had by the way, caused a cascade short that took out the whole array. The lighting crew about blew their collective gasket replacing all the shorted lights in fifteen minutes.”

Joris grimaced as she stepped past David and entered the tent, carefully picking her way past the random pieces of equipment.

“The story id definitely amusing, Tomas, but we’re due back on set. Can you put that light aside for a moment? “ She gestured at her arm. “I could use your help with this arm problem.”

Tomas stared at her arm, still bent holding the weapon point down. He sat back and looked down at the light, then to Joris. He stood up and dusted himself off, and gingerly stepped through the circle of cleaned parts over to David and Joris.

Tomas sighed as he moved towards the two. It surprised him how close the two of them had gotten so quickly, and how each of them was hiding what they were. He’d introduced them the first day of the shoot. Four days later they were nearly a couple. Though they were both actors, each had a secret.

In Joris case she was not an AI android, but a true cyborg. AI were often used on movie sets as there was something about realism that even the best CGI couldn’t quite capture. Androids were not considered human so the studios were not required to pay them SAG/AFTRA minimum wage. A cyborg would require minimum wage which was twelve times what the law required androids received as they were considered human for wage scale.

David was another case entirely. Tomas and David were an item until the car crash. Now two years later and a lot of work Tomas had paid for, David was a bonafide star and commanded a huge sum to work in films, and Tomas was a forgotten piece of history.

Only he knew how David, dying from internal damage, had paid for a complete braintap, moving his consciousness from his mangled and dying body to an artificial one that mimicked human function. He was an android masquerading as a human, and so far no one questioned it. Tomas however was a part lost in the transfer.

There’d been a surge in the system during the last moments of the tap, and the last two years of David’s life had failed to load. So had David’s sexual preferences. It was heartbreaking for Tomas, but he’d put it away, feeling it was better seeing David still alive than mourning his passing and losing the condo they shared. It took a while to get the new David up to speed, but Tomas helped him fill in the gaps.

Now two years later they were more brothers than lovers, and Tomas had made peace with losing David. He theatrically bowed and gestured to the one clean section of floor off the Joris left.

“Let’s go to the office and I’ll fix you right up, Doctor Nunez as your service.”

Both David and Joris smiled and chuckled in sync, which made Tomas join in. Joris moved to the center of the open space as Tomas got the repair kit out from under the portable bench.

“Let’s work a little magic shall we?”

Dragon Zombies of the Kuiper Belt – Opening

The tribes and races of man believe the god Kuiper created the cosmos and the stars. The material left behind became the belt that surrounded the solar system of Trine, protecting it from the fiends of the dark. The god Kuiper supposedly created the Belt, the wall of moving glittering rock seen as a line of white in the Dark. He created dragons, immortal guardians of the belt to protect Trine, cradle and home to the races. It was the dragons who were there to destroy any of the outer dark that found its way through Kuiper’s belt. Dragons are immortal, but immortal doesn’t mean unkillable.

* * * * *

“How long until we get there?” Anvresus growled irritably. “And don’t say soon. I’m tired to death of ‘soon’.” General Anvresus was the overall leader of the expedition, but he knew that their very lives were in the hands of the wizards that kept them safe from the emptiness of the dark. Dressed in a peacock display of aqua, yellow, red, and black, Wizard Secundus Perrin Nott smiled irritatingly at the General.

“We’ll get there … soon enough …”, he said with quiet superiority. “Nordaadan knows her way. We’ve seen it and she knows her destination. She can’t do anything else.”

Nordaadan soared through the Void oblivious to the frayed tempers within her. Her huge ivory wings beat against the aether, their tireless movement propelling her towards the Kuiper belt. The faint light of the stars gave her scales an iridescence at odds with her tattered skin that barely covered her oddly sprung ribs and stomach. In this distorted portion of her body protruded a clear crystal tube rounded on each end. The tube occupied the entire space from her ribs to to her pelvis.

All internal organs were removed excepting the brain and the heart to hold the spells required to animate her corpse. Inside the crystal cylinder were spheres of darker glass where her ‘passengers’ survived safe from the cold of the Void. They rustled about in their crystal pressure hull walking from one greenish sphere to another. All told there were forty men and women who maintained the spells to the brain to coordinate the body and the heart to recycle the air in the crystal and spread magic through the body to allow animation. Also on board were one hundred of the Banoor Empire’s best soldiers. Their destination was the Kuiper’s belt – the rumored protection of the world and Nordaadan’s original lair.

General Anvresus’ scowl deepened.

“How. Long. Willuk.”

The Wizardus sighed dramatically, irritated by the deliberate omission of his title.. He turned with a swirl of his robe and then turned back to face Anvresus. “I don’t know. The dragon’s memories do not count exact bits of time. Those who are keeping the brain know we are close, but how close is measured in draconian considerations, not human.” He paused and presented a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So, please, stop asking.”

Maybe a revelation?

I got to thinking about light speed and came to perhaps a different conclusion than the accepted norm. As something approaches the speed of light, time slows down around it. The limiting factor might not be speed but time. If you exceed the speed of light, would time stop? Would it reverse itself? I doubt the latter but the first may be possible. There is a speed barrier at the speed of light, much like how there was a barrier to the speed of sound for aircraft flight. I don’t know what it will take to exceed it, but I do believe (without solid science to back me) the speed of light can be exceeded. It make take doing a lot of experimentation with time as the barrier due to the changes occurring in and around an object that approaches light speed.

Review of ‘Choose Your Truth’ by Jo Miles

‘Choose Your Truth’ by Jo Miles is a very dystopian look at ‘market share’ of the viewing public. The story begins with a look inside one of these companies and a meeting on how to decide to regain their lost market share to rival companies and how they are influencing the public with lurid bits of information that may or may not be factual.

The pacing is steady with an undercurrent of insecurity because no one’s job is truly safe unless the market share increases. There is a small group that opposes the large conglomerates of media distribution, but they are too marginalized to be effective at pushing the truth, or are they?

This is well-written and offers a fascinating look at what might be if media actually became the primary source for all information and entertainment. 1984 anyone?

Review of ‘A Classic Beginner’s Mistake’ by Philip Brewer

‘A Classic Beginner’s Mistake’ is an interesting title in the sense it’s about a situation that is minor to the story but does encompass the entirety of the story. The main character is a fencer, currently closer to a beginner than a master swordsman. Asking a question prompted by his instructor Odessa Rae Clover, to swordmaster Vergil whom he was reporting to in order to correct a problem, Trevo was told by Vergil that if he wanted the answer he would have to fight for it.

The story is well crafted and detailed enough to help the reader through the action scenes without slowing down the pace. The world and the reason for Trevo’s assignment to well described in a unique setting that adds a detailed background that does an excellent job of supporting and coloring the main story. I enjoyed this story and would recommend for the swordplay and the unique magical realm that the story is centered in.

Review of Dangerous Inspiration by Greg Stone

Dangerous Inspiration is very much a nuanced statement for the title and the novel itself. it describes the situation all the artists that are accepted at the art colony ‘Interlude’ only to be trapped by a Nor’easter storm that traps them in the colony where an exotic series of murders occur. Interestingly, every member of the colony has a situation where violence and/or death occurred in their past life that they may or may not have deliberately taken part in.

The protagonist, Ronan Mezini, also has his own brush with death, being the detective that solved a notorious serial killer case. But there was a scandal involving brutal interrogation techniques in his past that he may or may not have taken part in. All of it combines to create an atmosphere of misdirection where more than one artist could be linked to a murder that occurs.

The writing is a little jerky at the beginning, but smooths out quickly and is very entertaining. The occurrences at the colony are like half-seen through rippled glass. There’s enough description to give you an idea of who and how something happens, but not enough for you to really grasp what the reason was and who might have been involved.

For me, when the group of artists switches location to another hotel, does the story shift to a higher gear. The activity is more sparse, but the dialog and flow more than make up for the shift in perspective. It was my favorite part of the story. The ending felt a little overcomplicated, but the information did connect together logically and the deductions and reveal do allow you to look back and see in the earlier parts where those clues surface.

This is an intriguing and fun read, especially in the second half of the book. I plan on getting a copy to enjoy.