It's that time of year again, and i'm going to attempt to put my slightly bruised brain to work crafting a novel for the November challenge. Currently, i have a science fiction piece that's built off the bones of the two science fiction snippets i've all ready written. right now, we're starting the second chapter and clocked in at 3300 words. Here's hoping i can finish on time.
Friday, November 6, 2015
Friday, October 30, 2015
Science Fiction (Lets whirl)
The alien price for saving the station had been a heavy one. After that leviathan destroyed the alien vessels that were attacking, it assumed a high orbit over the colony, and waited. Thirteen local days later, the aliens patient watch ended with the arrival of more ships. Massive bulk landers descended on the planet below, and the colonists found out the price of their salvation.
Of the nine million colonists, eight and a half million were loaded onto the transports and taken back into space. Resistance was met with instant lethality, and the colony was turned into a ghost town over the course of a week. Factories and labs were abandoned, and the basic infrastructure started to break down without the people needed to maintain them. The supply ship that arrived after the aliens took their price found a colony in shambles, and evacuated the remaining thirty thousand souls off world.
My life found its direction in the aftermath of that grim harvest. The Hycanthians, the aliens that performed that harvest were a part of a vast interstellar community of nations. Hycanthian scientists very quickly figured out how to build us out of our constituent parts using their genetic technologies. Cheaper to build than robots, we were accepted into the service of many different species at the lowest rung of their social structures. For a while we were new and exotic, and that meant that we were meat to consumed.
They were hungry for us, using us up and discarding us like cattle or sheep back home. The ones that weren't trying to eat us were trying to fuck us. Of the initial grouping of eight and a half million, ninety percent were dead within that first year of our bondage. Most were eaten as an exotic delicacy by the lords and ladies of interstellar empires. We were the hot ticket item, and i heard stories of our children sold as pets to the children of the fabulously wealthy.
Fortunately, in a twisted way of looking at things, our fad faded, and soon we were just another primitive bipedal race that didn't understand how technology worked. We became the lowest level of labor used by most of the more advanced races. Hard labor, mining, and agriculture became our stock in trade, we weren't advanced enough yet to understand alien construction technology.
Five natural born generations of our people were born, lived, and died under the cruel watch of alien overseers. We dug across a million mines, and fed trillions upon trillions of other more advanced sentient creatures. One of the workers at a mining colony showed a remarkable bit of craftiness, and his overseer saw the potential and put him to work repairing mining equipment and overseeing other humans.
Five more generations of our kind labored under the watchful eyes of our own people. We were a wonderfully exploitable resource. We kept ourselves in line, could fix our own equipment, and if given parameters to operate under, we could effectively keep ourselves motivated to complete a task. Thy Hycanthians made vast fortunes on the backs of human labor pods, and we were integrating slowly into the landscape of the interstellar collective we had been forced into.
Then something unexpected occurred that changed the way we were seen forever. The Gulark insurrection attacked the Hycanthians. The rest of the aliens stayed out of the fighting, but the Hycanthians panicked. They armed us, and sent us into the field against the Gularks. We died in the millions, but the Hycanthians could always build more. Using brain recordings and advances in cybernetic technology, they built a better human being, one that emerged from the genevats ready to take up arms and destroy their enemies.
At a cost of 12 billion human lives, the Hycanthians destoyed the Gulark insurrection and added their planets to the Hycanthas regime. The secret about humans was out though. Intelligent enough to follow orders in combat but expendable enough to throw into the jaws of certain death, we became a commodity again. Hycanthian technology is capable of building many different kinds of human soldiers, from common infantry all the way up to something like me.
I remember the first time my purchaser came to the Hycanthian Ark. Common infantry could be grown in less than a month, but something as complicated and advanced as i was took longer, almost five years and a fabulous cost in money. My purchaser was a Brellian. He was a large creature, covered in very soft, very fine fur. Three eyes rounded its conical head, giving it the ability to see almost all the way around its head. He nodded at the Hycanthian who was responsible for my construction.
Despite his apparent approval, my appearance was deemed less than ideal, and i was modified. My canine teeth were elongated and sharpened, and my skin texture was modified to a more pleasant texture. Other humans i would later encounter had extremely smooth, soft skin. Mine was much rougher and thicker, and had an abrasive feeling. They also modified my skin color, giving me a dark blue coloration, with lighter highlights radiating away from my core.
Of the nine million colonists, eight and a half million were loaded onto the transports and taken back into space. Resistance was met with instant lethality, and the colony was turned into a ghost town over the course of a week. Factories and labs were abandoned, and the basic infrastructure started to break down without the people needed to maintain them. The supply ship that arrived after the aliens took their price found a colony in shambles, and evacuated the remaining thirty thousand souls off world.
My life found its direction in the aftermath of that grim harvest. The Hycanthians, the aliens that performed that harvest were a part of a vast interstellar community of nations. Hycanthian scientists very quickly figured out how to build us out of our constituent parts using their genetic technologies. Cheaper to build than robots, we were accepted into the service of many different species at the lowest rung of their social structures. For a while we were new and exotic, and that meant that we were meat to consumed.
They were hungry for us, using us up and discarding us like cattle or sheep back home. The ones that weren't trying to eat us were trying to fuck us. Of the initial grouping of eight and a half million, ninety percent were dead within that first year of our bondage. Most were eaten as an exotic delicacy by the lords and ladies of interstellar empires. We were the hot ticket item, and i heard stories of our children sold as pets to the children of the fabulously wealthy.
Fortunately, in a twisted way of looking at things, our fad faded, and soon we were just another primitive bipedal race that didn't understand how technology worked. We became the lowest level of labor used by most of the more advanced races. Hard labor, mining, and agriculture became our stock in trade, we weren't advanced enough yet to understand alien construction technology.
Five natural born generations of our people were born, lived, and died under the cruel watch of alien overseers. We dug across a million mines, and fed trillions upon trillions of other more advanced sentient creatures. One of the workers at a mining colony showed a remarkable bit of craftiness, and his overseer saw the potential and put him to work repairing mining equipment and overseeing other humans.
Five more generations of our kind labored under the watchful eyes of our own people. We were a wonderfully exploitable resource. We kept ourselves in line, could fix our own equipment, and if given parameters to operate under, we could effectively keep ourselves motivated to complete a task. Thy Hycanthians made vast fortunes on the backs of human labor pods, and we were integrating slowly into the landscape of the interstellar collective we had been forced into.
Then something unexpected occurred that changed the way we were seen forever. The Gulark insurrection attacked the Hycanthians. The rest of the aliens stayed out of the fighting, but the Hycanthians panicked. They armed us, and sent us into the field against the Gularks. We died in the millions, but the Hycanthians could always build more. Using brain recordings and advances in cybernetic technology, they built a better human being, one that emerged from the genevats ready to take up arms and destroy their enemies.
At a cost of 12 billion human lives, the Hycanthians destoyed the Gulark insurrection and added their planets to the Hycanthas regime. The secret about humans was out though. Intelligent enough to follow orders in combat but expendable enough to throw into the jaws of certain death, we became a commodity again. Hycanthian technology is capable of building many different kinds of human soldiers, from common infantry all the way up to something like me.
I remember the first time my purchaser came to the Hycanthian Ark. Common infantry could be grown in less than a month, but something as complicated and advanced as i was took longer, almost five years and a fabulous cost in money. My purchaser was a Brellian. He was a large creature, covered in very soft, very fine fur. Three eyes rounded its conical head, giving it the ability to see almost all the way around its head. He nodded at the Hycanthian who was responsible for my construction.
Despite his apparent approval, my appearance was deemed less than ideal, and i was modified. My canine teeth were elongated and sharpened, and my skin texture was modified to a more pleasant texture. Other humans i would later encounter had extremely smooth, soft skin. Mine was much rougher and thicker, and had an abrasive feeling. They also modified my skin color, giving me a dark blue coloration, with lighter highlights radiating away from my core.
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Fictional Science (Word Play...its trendy)
The engines are humming, the dull pulsing sound of the fusion reaction chambers firing, giving this beast the energy to power itself. Like the circulatory system of a living creature, the power system runs the length of the ship, carrying fresh energy to a thousand hungry mouths. Shields, life support, the slip stream drive, even the sub light engines all crave power. The hungriest mouths on the ship belong to the cavernous weapons arrays. High intensity beam exotic energy projectors mounted around the ship took all the energy the ship could spare and eagerly drank it down.
The ship itself was a great armored beast, gliding through the darkness, like an ancient leviathan, daring anything to catch its gaze. If only it were that simple, if only this were some primordial hunter, some simple minded predator looking for its next meal. Unfortunately, this great beast carried others to war, and it served ably, raining death from high above, or savaging other ships in the night.
The bridge of the ship was alive with activity. a half dozen weapons stations surrounded the primary control station. Each was crewed by a seasoned veteran who'd proven themselves on countless assaults and boarding actions. Now, they were responsible for clearing the way for others to follow. The central station, an immersive pool made of blackened carbon held the captain firmly, protected by the pool's energy shields and personal life support system.
The captain's eyes drifted over every deck plate and access panel, sweeping deck by deck as the ship reviewed its internal workings. The ship's neural network had taken to this form extremely well, and was performing above expectations since its implantation. The previous network had grown too old and unreliable, so it was time for replacement.
The captain's eyes came to rest in the central cargo bay, where drones were busy working on replacement ammunition and armor from the internal stores. The dead meat from the last engagement were being processed back into their constituent parts so they could be recycled into new soldiers. The captain could see the tiny forms moving back and forth in their gestation tanks, the tiny lives being built from the broken bodies of the old and the dead.
The other pods in the chamber drew the captain's attention. the soft hum of the individual maturation pods resonated at its own frequency. One of the shipwright's had explained it as the easiest way to get the soldier back to its own stasis pod for long flights. The resonance was soothing to the meat body, and the soldier was much more pliable and capable of sleep for longer periods of time that way.
The ship had a compliment of just over 5,000 active soldiers sleeping inside it, with around 1,000 either too old or young to fight anymore. Those that were too old to fight labored on as technicians or engineers, working on equipment and preparing solutions to the problems that availed their younger kin.
The tiny lights along the interior of the command pool were blinking, the ship was alerting the captain to something. The focus shifted away from the cargo bays and to the exterior of the ship. With an almost predatory glee, the ship had located a target, it looked to be a space station, or a base of some kind. Sensors were picking up unusual readings, fluctuations in the energy fields surrounding it. It shuddered, as if struck by something, and the ship's external sensors locked on.
They were under attack by something, sensors were picking up three distinct ships, each one firing mass driven projectiles. Magnetically propelled explosive shells were hitting the station across its dorsal axis, and it looked like they were trying to hit it hard enough to snap its spine. The station's sensors started to scan them, and a moment later, the communications channel flared to life.
"This is the station Fallkirk, to unknown vessel, we have come under attack by hostiles, and we're requesting your assistance. Please, save our station." The deck officer on the station was young, and ugly looking for a biped. Smoke was filling up the command center, and small electrical sparks were crisscrossing the console.
"Our Price is heavy, will you pay it?" The captain said quietly. It wasn't a real voice, but the ship had amplified the captain's thoughts into a mechanical vocalization. The gun crews were all ready coming to life, and the ship's power plants were dialing up for combat.
"Yes, for the love of god, we'll pay your bloody price." The screen flickered and in the next moment, the officer was laying backwards over a console, his body barely moving.
"Unsheathe the blades, ready the men, we're going hunting." The ship rolled into an attack posture, and the targeting arrays for the exotic energy weapons flared to life.
The ship itself was a great armored beast, gliding through the darkness, like an ancient leviathan, daring anything to catch its gaze. If only it were that simple, if only this were some primordial hunter, some simple minded predator looking for its next meal. Unfortunately, this great beast carried others to war, and it served ably, raining death from high above, or savaging other ships in the night.
The bridge of the ship was alive with activity. a half dozen weapons stations surrounded the primary control station. Each was crewed by a seasoned veteran who'd proven themselves on countless assaults and boarding actions. Now, they were responsible for clearing the way for others to follow. The central station, an immersive pool made of blackened carbon held the captain firmly, protected by the pool's energy shields and personal life support system.
The captain's eyes drifted over every deck plate and access panel, sweeping deck by deck as the ship reviewed its internal workings. The ship's neural network had taken to this form extremely well, and was performing above expectations since its implantation. The previous network had grown too old and unreliable, so it was time for replacement.
The captain's eyes came to rest in the central cargo bay, where drones were busy working on replacement ammunition and armor from the internal stores. The dead meat from the last engagement were being processed back into their constituent parts so they could be recycled into new soldiers. The captain could see the tiny forms moving back and forth in their gestation tanks, the tiny lives being built from the broken bodies of the old and the dead.
The other pods in the chamber drew the captain's attention. the soft hum of the individual maturation pods resonated at its own frequency. One of the shipwright's had explained it as the easiest way to get the soldier back to its own stasis pod for long flights. The resonance was soothing to the meat body, and the soldier was much more pliable and capable of sleep for longer periods of time that way.
The ship had a compliment of just over 5,000 active soldiers sleeping inside it, with around 1,000 either too old or young to fight anymore. Those that were too old to fight labored on as technicians or engineers, working on equipment and preparing solutions to the problems that availed their younger kin.
The tiny lights along the interior of the command pool were blinking, the ship was alerting the captain to something. The focus shifted away from the cargo bays and to the exterior of the ship. With an almost predatory glee, the ship had located a target, it looked to be a space station, or a base of some kind. Sensors were picking up unusual readings, fluctuations in the energy fields surrounding it. It shuddered, as if struck by something, and the ship's external sensors locked on.
They were under attack by something, sensors were picking up three distinct ships, each one firing mass driven projectiles. Magnetically propelled explosive shells were hitting the station across its dorsal axis, and it looked like they were trying to hit it hard enough to snap its spine. The station's sensors started to scan them, and a moment later, the communications channel flared to life.
"This is the station Fallkirk, to unknown vessel, we have come under attack by hostiles, and we're requesting your assistance. Please, save our station." The deck officer on the station was young, and ugly looking for a biped. Smoke was filling up the command center, and small electrical sparks were crisscrossing the console.
"Our Price is heavy, will you pay it?" The captain said quietly. It wasn't a real voice, but the ship had amplified the captain's thoughts into a mechanical vocalization. The gun crews were all ready coming to life, and the ship's power plants were dialing up for combat.
"Yes, for the love of god, we'll pay your bloody price." The screen flickered and in the next moment, the officer was laying backwards over a console, his body barely moving.
"Unsheathe the blades, ready the men, we're going hunting." The ship rolled into an attack posture, and the targeting arrays for the exotic energy weapons flared to life.
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Subject Interview BS Session 1 (Introduction Story)
I smile softly, its the response that's expected right now. I look out at them with an old mind hidden behind fresh eyes. I know what they expect me to do, they want to ask me questions about what i am, where i come from. That story is an incredibly long, bloody tale of sex and violence. I'm literally made of magic, and it scares most of them. They're a reaction to an alien material entering our atmosphere during the crash landing, they're not even supposed to be here. Not me, I was born this way, Something like me has always been here.
"Lex, I'm eternally grateful you elected to give us some of your time today, thank you again." Molly smiles at me, and i feel the blood rush to my cheeks. Molly's an angel, not literally, but she's the nicest person in the universe, and she always puts me off my game. I think she knows it, and i think she kind of likes it.
"Any time, Molly, I like questions." I lie gently to her, and i know she knows that i'm lying, but she turns the microphone out to the crowd of students. She knows this is thing i like to do least. Let me kick in doors, and chase down bad guys. Let me put this thing to use helping people. It's not what i was made for, but i decided that i was going to make it mine anyway.
"What's your name, for the record?" One of the kids asks. This question again, i should have known.
"I chose the name Blood Speaker as my 'hero identity,' but operationally the higher ups usually refer to me as Red, or Agent Red."
"But what about your real name?"
"For the official record, my real name is Lexington Massachusetts, it's a name i took from the place i was found as a child."
"Could you explain that?"
"I sprang into existence as an eight year old child, and i was found wandering the outskirts of Lexington."
"Sprang into existence?"
"I wasn't born in the conventional sense, i don't have a mother or a father, i was built this way." I lift the shirt, because i know they've heard the rumors. Yep, no belly button, no umbilical attachment to another living creature. I hear the murmurs run through the crowd. I'm not like them at all, and now they're starting to grasp that.
"Haven't you tried to figure out where you come from, who your genetics tell you you are?"
"My blood isn't anything normal, and it doesn't like to be analyzed. It changes from moment to moment, and i simultaneously carry infectious vectors for every blood born pathogen in existence, and their antibodies." I let that one drop for a moment, just to give them a scare.
"What are you made of?"
"Blood." I smile at the teenager that asked the question. When you get down to it, humans are made up of a lot of different things. "If you were able to get my cells to sit still long enough to take a look at them, they're putting on a hell of a show. Bone, brain matter, musculature, they're all blood cells that have assumed the form and roles of other biological material."
"So you're a blood avatar?"
"Not exactly, but it's a close enough metaphor."
"So what exactly do you do?"
"Aside from being made of living blood?"
"Yes?" The girl doesn't seem impressed by it, it's a shame, but i'm used to it. They understand how their own powers work, and it gives them a connection to each other, a family. They call each other brother and sister, even call the old man Father. They don't know what to call me, they don't have a place for me in their little wall of mail boxes. Day's honest about it, but he's the only one. He's fucking nuts, but he's honest. He respects the differences between us, and humors me by calling me 'cousin' with the familiarity they address each other with.
"I can control the blood, and form it into shapes and objects."
"All the blood?"
"Just the stuff in my veins."
"Isn't that gross?"
"The clothes i'm wearing right now, the sidearm i usually carry in the field, even my badge are all made of my blood." The quiet echoes through the crowd, they're still completely baffled by me.
"But they're not red?" one of the boys asks.
"I can shape every aspect of it, down to the color and the smell. I can also dissolve it with a thought."
Molly's seen that trick, she's a fan of it.
"Lex, I'm eternally grateful you elected to give us some of your time today, thank you again." Molly smiles at me, and i feel the blood rush to my cheeks. Molly's an angel, not literally, but she's the nicest person in the universe, and she always puts me off my game. I think she knows it, and i think she kind of likes it.
"Any time, Molly, I like questions." I lie gently to her, and i know she knows that i'm lying, but she turns the microphone out to the crowd of students. She knows this is thing i like to do least. Let me kick in doors, and chase down bad guys. Let me put this thing to use helping people. It's not what i was made for, but i decided that i was going to make it mine anyway.
"What's your name, for the record?" One of the kids asks. This question again, i should have known.
"I chose the name Blood Speaker as my 'hero identity,' but operationally the higher ups usually refer to me as Red, or Agent Red."
"But what about your real name?"
"For the official record, my real name is Lexington Massachusetts, it's a name i took from the place i was found as a child."
"Could you explain that?"
"I sprang into existence as an eight year old child, and i was found wandering the outskirts of Lexington."
"Sprang into existence?"
"I wasn't born in the conventional sense, i don't have a mother or a father, i was built this way." I lift the shirt, because i know they've heard the rumors. Yep, no belly button, no umbilical attachment to another living creature. I hear the murmurs run through the crowd. I'm not like them at all, and now they're starting to grasp that.
"Haven't you tried to figure out where you come from, who your genetics tell you you are?"
"My blood isn't anything normal, and it doesn't like to be analyzed. It changes from moment to moment, and i simultaneously carry infectious vectors for every blood born pathogen in existence, and their antibodies." I let that one drop for a moment, just to give them a scare.
"What are you made of?"
"Blood." I smile at the teenager that asked the question. When you get down to it, humans are made up of a lot of different things. "If you were able to get my cells to sit still long enough to take a look at them, they're putting on a hell of a show. Bone, brain matter, musculature, they're all blood cells that have assumed the form and roles of other biological material."
"So you're a blood avatar?"
"Not exactly, but it's a close enough metaphor."
"So what exactly do you do?"
"Aside from being made of living blood?"
"Yes?" The girl doesn't seem impressed by it, it's a shame, but i'm used to it. They understand how their own powers work, and it gives them a connection to each other, a family. They call each other brother and sister, even call the old man Father. They don't know what to call me, they don't have a place for me in their little wall of mail boxes. Day's honest about it, but he's the only one. He's fucking nuts, but he's honest. He respects the differences between us, and humors me by calling me 'cousin' with the familiarity they address each other with.
"I can control the blood, and form it into shapes and objects."
"All the blood?"
"Just the stuff in my veins."
"Isn't that gross?"
"The clothes i'm wearing right now, the sidearm i usually carry in the field, even my badge are all made of my blood." The quiet echoes through the crowd, they're still completely baffled by me.
"But they're not red?" one of the boys asks.
"I can shape every aspect of it, down to the color and the smell. I can also dissolve it with a thought."
Molly's seen that trick, she's a fan of it.
Friday, October 23, 2015
A Stab at Poetry
The Long Road
I was a child then, so long ago
My house aflame, no parents, no hope
I heard the screams, that's how i woke,
I thought they got out,
i thought they were calling me
I was so terribly wrong
My Home was a smoking ruin
I would not get back there again
The Road stretched out in front of me
Two paths, one decision, one terrible decision
I shouldn't have had to make it, It wasn't fair
I felt the sirens in the distance, splitting the air
No choice at all really
Snowflakes crunched under tiny feet
I felt so cold, so empty inside
Icy tears ran down my cheeks
Frost burned inside my lungs
I kept running, nowhere left to be
I felt the darkness close in around me
I felt the life drift away
So very cold, no life left to breathe
My eyes fluttered closed,
I knew the road had ended
And i would never be home
Subject Interview JD Session 2 (Origin Story Continued)
The door flew open, a flash bang following it with the greatest of ease. The first two goons otuside teh vault were down, grabbing their heads and hoping for the pain to stop. The other two goons opened fire, spraying the door with hot lead. I took one to the tactical vest i was wearing, and i felt the sharp pinch of the one that caught me across the shoulder. Didn't make full contact, grazed across the top of my shoulder and went whizzing into the hallway.
Two more incredibly loud blasts from the shotgun i was carrying ended them. The other two goons who were rolling around on the floor died ugly, their throats opened and blood everywhere. I planted the charge on the door and took cover, i didn't have a lot of time, and i knew that this was the last opportunity i was going to have to get back what was taken from me.
The vault door blasted clear of its hinges, opening the darkened room. I checked the fiber optic cam i'd set in the hallway, and i saw the trouble coming down. There were 8 of them, plus Marsden. Full tactical gear, assault rifles, the works. This was going to get ugly fast. I slipped into the vault, and hoped to god this entire thing hadn't been a wild goose chase.
She put her hands up, covering her face. She was alive, my heart started beating again.
"Please don't hurt me, i don't know why you're doing this, i don't know anything, i'm not special!" she screamed at me, her chest heaving with sobs as she tried to cover herself up. "Please let me go!"
"Fiona, you're going to be fine, you're almost out of trouble, but i need you to pull yourself together." My voice wasn't my own, the synthesizer wasn't the best, so i sounded like the tin man gargling buckshot, but it was necessary in my line of work.
"Who are you, why are you doing this?" She looked up at me with abject horror. I couldn't blame her for that, I would have run the other direction if i had seen me coming into a room that i'd just blown a hole in. The mask hid my face, and the synthesizer stole my voice, and i was hoping that now we could move.
"I owe a debt, a debt that i don't think i'll ever be able to pay back, but that's not here and now, here and now is getting you out of here before the bad guys get here."
"You're not the bad guys?"
The laugh caught in my throat, and i know the sound startled her, i could see it in her eyes. "Fiona, I'm the worst guy, but today, I have the privilege of being your worst guy. Stay behind me, and do exactly what i tell you to."
Two goons tried to enter the room behind me, between the way out for her. The shotgun quickly stifled their ambitions and served its purpose in warning off the rest. I heard them come to a quick halt outside the door.
"Hammer, you're a dead man."
"We all are, act accordingly." I tossed back at him. I loved that movie. The shotgun was stowed with its tactical sling, and i pulled the heavy revolvers out of the holsters. 12 bullets, 7 bad guys. These were heavy slugs, custom made, something in the .50 caliber range. "I would have left you alone if you hadn't taken her."
"And if you hadn't decided to do something stupid, i would have left her alone."
"So we're both assholes, and both equally deserving of death."
"That's about the long and the short of it, see you in hell."
I saw the grenades bounce into the room, i knew the situation had gone from bad to worse. Then i heard the noise of thunder, and the angels spoke to me
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WE'RE TRYING TO REPAIR OUR VESSEL, PLEASE STOP SHOOTING AT US. WE AREN'T HOSTILE, PLEASE STOP."
It hit me like a thunderbolt, a voice from beyond, and i knew that if it was the last thing i could do, she'd be safe. My pulse quickened again, and i knew that i had to move. My head was pounding, but i crossed the room and managed to snag both grenades before they went off. I tossed them back into the hallway and it felt so strange. The grenades should have gone off, but they didn't forever. Finally, i took a breath and the room exploded.
"How did you do that?" Fiona asked me, her voice quaking with terror.
"Do what?"
"Move so fast?"
"What?"
I didn't have time to think, Marsden had to go down. I was through the door in a flash, my pistols in Marsden's face. "You should have known better, you don't touch a man's family, especially when it's the last of his family."
"Fuck you, you're a tool, not a person, you don't get to have a normal life, henchman."
The hammers dropped, and the bullets flew. Something happened that i couldn't explain, i could see the smoke from the end of the barrels, and i saw the tiny projectiles screaming out of them at faster than the speed of sound. I saw the way the air displaced around them, and i tracked them right up until they made contact with Marsden's stupid looking face.
The first bullet struck him in the cheek, under his right eye. I watched the bullet penetrate his skin, opening up the bones and the musculature. It was the most amazing thing i'd ever seen, at least up to that point. The other bullet struck through his eye, and they shattered his skull, spraying tiny bone chips and bits of white and grey brain matter out the other end. Marsden wouldn't threaten Fiona again.
She was free, but not secure yet, we had to get out of this house...
Two more incredibly loud blasts from the shotgun i was carrying ended them. The other two goons who were rolling around on the floor died ugly, their throats opened and blood everywhere. I planted the charge on the door and took cover, i didn't have a lot of time, and i knew that this was the last opportunity i was going to have to get back what was taken from me.
The vault door blasted clear of its hinges, opening the darkened room. I checked the fiber optic cam i'd set in the hallway, and i saw the trouble coming down. There were 8 of them, plus Marsden. Full tactical gear, assault rifles, the works. This was going to get ugly fast. I slipped into the vault, and hoped to god this entire thing hadn't been a wild goose chase.
She put her hands up, covering her face. She was alive, my heart started beating again.
"Please don't hurt me, i don't know why you're doing this, i don't know anything, i'm not special!" she screamed at me, her chest heaving with sobs as she tried to cover herself up. "Please let me go!"
"Fiona, you're going to be fine, you're almost out of trouble, but i need you to pull yourself together." My voice wasn't my own, the synthesizer wasn't the best, so i sounded like the tin man gargling buckshot, but it was necessary in my line of work.
"Who are you, why are you doing this?" She looked up at me with abject horror. I couldn't blame her for that, I would have run the other direction if i had seen me coming into a room that i'd just blown a hole in. The mask hid my face, and the synthesizer stole my voice, and i was hoping that now we could move.
"I owe a debt, a debt that i don't think i'll ever be able to pay back, but that's not here and now, here and now is getting you out of here before the bad guys get here."
"You're not the bad guys?"
The laugh caught in my throat, and i know the sound startled her, i could see it in her eyes. "Fiona, I'm the worst guy, but today, I have the privilege of being your worst guy. Stay behind me, and do exactly what i tell you to."
Two goons tried to enter the room behind me, between the way out for her. The shotgun quickly stifled their ambitions and served its purpose in warning off the rest. I heard them come to a quick halt outside the door.
"Hammer, you're a dead man."
"We all are, act accordingly." I tossed back at him. I loved that movie. The shotgun was stowed with its tactical sling, and i pulled the heavy revolvers out of the holsters. 12 bullets, 7 bad guys. These were heavy slugs, custom made, something in the .50 caliber range. "I would have left you alone if you hadn't taken her."
"And if you hadn't decided to do something stupid, i would have left her alone."
"So we're both assholes, and both equally deserving of death."
"That's about the long and the short of it, see you in hell."
I saw the grenades bounce into the room, i knew the situation had gone from bad to worse. Then i heard the noise of thunder, and the angels spoke to me
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WE'RE TRYING TO REPAIR OUR VESSEL, PLEASE STOP SHOOTING AT US. WE AREN'T HOSTILE, PLEASE STOP."
It hit me like a thunderbolt, a voice from beyond, and i knew that if it was the last thing i could do, she'd be safe. My pulse quickened again, and i knew that i had to move. My head was pounding, but i crossed the room and managed to snag both grenades before they went off. I tossed them back into the hallway and it felt so strange. The grenades should have gone off, but they didn't forever. Finally, i took a breath and the room exploded.
"How did you do that?" Fiona asked me, her voice quaking with terror.
"Do what?"
"Move so fast?"
"What?"
I didn't have time to think, Marsden had to go down. I was through the door in a flash, my pistols in Marsden's face. "You should have known better, you don't touch a man's family, especially when it's the last of his family."
"Fuck you, you're a tool, not a person, you don't get to have a normal life, henchman."
The hammers dropped, and the bullets flew. Something happened that i couldn't explain, i could see the smoke from the end of the barrels, and i saw the tiny projectiles screaming out of them at faster than the speed of sound. I saw the way the air displaced around them, and i tracked them right up until they made contact with Marsden's stupid looking face.
The first bullet struck him in the cheek, under his right eye. I watched the bullet penetrate his skin, opening up the bones and the musculature. It was the most amazing thing i'd ever seen, at least up to that point. The other bullet struck through his eye, and they shattered his skull, spraying tiny bone chips and bits of white and grey brain matter out the other end. Marsden wouldn't threaten Fiona again.
She was free, but not secure yet, we had to get out of this house...
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
History is a winding road
The old car lumbered up the hill, its massive bulk propelled by a an old engine that had seen better days. It was raining gently, soft drops of water hitting the windshield, the squeaking sound of the wiper blades drowning out an old country song on the radio . The GPS on the dashboard counted down the mile markers towards his destination. The car felt cold, which it should have been, the thermometer said it was almost eighty outside, even with the rain.
He let out a long sigh, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. Lily did this to him, sent him on this fool's errand. They'd shared an office at University of Kansas, in the social sciences department when they were both graduate assistants. They'd been friends, but not a lot more than that. She was getting her doctorate in American folklore, and he was working on finishing up his doctoral program in the American West. His dissertation was on the need for western expansion driving the frontier off the continent.
She'd sent him an e-mail two weeks ago, and he was still reading the e-mail over in his brain.
"Carter, i know it's been a long time, but i found something amazing, and i need you to check this out." She'd sent a series of pictures attached to the e-mail. They were tombstones, from an old boneyard somewhere in the middle of nowhere. "I think this is it, I think i found it." the message had continued. "You remember the story from Knob's Creek in the Civil war? I think i found part of it."
Knob's creek was a little tributary of the Arkansas river that ran through Kansas. During the civil war, a confederate unit was operating near Knob's creek, and was terrorizing runaway slaves and the abolitionists that were helping them move across the Kansas prairie towards a new life. Nearly a hundred confederate soldiers were thought to be raiding along the Arkansas, but their base somewhere in the vicinity of Knob's Creek.
Late one night in 1863, a union patrol found that camp in Knob's Creek. It was a grisly site. The entire confederate patrol had been butchered, by person or persons unknown, their bodies torn asunder and their bones left to bleach in the sun. The horses had been slaughtered, and the only person who'd survived had been a young African American boy named Silas. Silas was owned by the commander of the Confederates, a passionate firebrand named Henry GoodChurch. The story that Silas had told the northern soldiers had become a puzzle that Lily had determined she had to solve.
Silas had been tending Captain Goodchurch's horse when he felt a chill roll across the creek bed. Something spooked the horses, and it had taken all of Silas's ability to calm the horse he was tending when the campfires started to go out. He saw the lights go out one by one across the campsite, but the thing that shook his nerve was the noise. Every single sound had stopped, no birds, no animals in the underbrush, nothing. Even the horses had gone silent.
He told them that he felt the icy grip of death on him, but it had passed him over. He spoke of Death as a person, a real flesh and blood thing that had walked into that camp, and judged everyone. His description of Death was bizarre.
Yes'sir, he was a tall thing, thin like a rail, with a weird catch in his step. He was dressed in black, all black, with a white collar like a preacher and he was cold, like ice in the veins. He didn't have no expression on his face, no smile, no frown, just those angry red eyes. Around his waist was a long, heavy golden chain, and wrapped in that chain was a heavy book, i was sure it was a bible. He stared into me with those angry red eyes, and i knew i wasn't long for the world, that Saint Peter was going to ask me how i'd managed to die as a boy.
"Live in peace, Silas Greene, you will know the love of a wife, children, and many grandchildren." He said with a voice that rumbled like thunder, and he laid his hand across my shoulder. That cold went through me all the way to my soul, and i felt the chill of the grave. "Sleep now, this is not for your eyes, boy." And i slept, the most peaceful sleep i'd ever had, before or since. I slept that night, like a baby attached to his momma. I awoke the next morning to see the hell that had been wrought, but i carried Death's mark, where he'd lain his hand across my shoulder, the skin had scarred over and turned white.
The soldiers had scoured the campsite, and found no one alive, save for Silas and the horse, and when they returned later to examine it again, the campsite was gone, like the creek had swallowed it up again.
"I need your help, Carter, please, I have attached the coordinates for this town, I hope to see you soon, old friend."
And like that, like an idiot, he was off chasing a windmill to slay.
He let out a long sigh, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. Lily did this to him, sent him on this fool's errand. They'd shared an office at University of Kansas, in the social sciences department when they were both graduate assistants. They'd been friends, but not a lot more than that. She was getting her doctorate in American folklore, and he was working on finishing up his doctoral program in the American West. His dissertation was on the need for western expansion driving the frontier off the continent.
She'd sent him an e-mail two weeks ago, and he was still reading the e-mail over in his brain.
"Carter, i know it's been a long time, but i found something amazing, and i need you to check this out." She'd sent a series of pictures attached to the e-mail. They were tombstones, from an old boneyard somewhere in the middle of nowhere. "I think this is it, I think i found it." the message had continued. "You remember the story from Knob's Creek in the Civil war? I think i found part of it."
Knob's creek was a little tributary of the Arkansas river that ran through Kansas. During the civil war, a confederate unit was operating near Knob's creek, and was terrorizing runaway slaves and the abolitionists that were helping them move across the Kansas prairie towards a new life. Nearly a hundred confederate soldiers were thought to be raiding along the Arkansas, but their base somewhere in the vicinity of Knob's Creek.
Late one night in 1863, a union patrol found that camp in Knob's Creek. It was a grisly site. The entire confederate patrol had been butchered, by person or persons unknown, their bodies torn asunder and their bones left to bleach in the sun. The horses had been slaughtered, and the only person who'd survived had been a young African American boy named Silas. Silas was owned by the commander of the Confederates, a passionate firebrand named Henry GoodChurch. The story that Silas had told the northern soldiers had become a puzzle that Lily had determined she had to solve.
Silas had been tending Captain Goodchurch's horse when he felt a chill roll across the creek bed. Something spooked the horses, and it had taken all of Silas's ability to calm the horse he was tending when the campfires started to go out. He saw the lights go out one by one across the campsite, but the thing that shook his nerve was the noise. Every single sound had stopped, no birds, no animals in the underbrush, nothing. Even the horses had gone silent.
He told them that he felt the icy grip of death on him, but it had passed him over. He spoke of Death as a person, a real flesh and blood thing that had walked into that camp, and judged everyone. His description of Death was bizarre.
Yes'sir, he was a tall thing, thin like a rail, with a weird catch in his step. He was dressed in black, all black, with a white collar like a preacher and he was cold, like ice in the veins. He didn't have no expression on his face, no smile, no frown, just those angry red eyes. Around his waist was a long, heavy golden chain, and wrapped in that chain was a heavy book, i was sure it was a bible. He stared into me with those angry red eyes, and i knew i wasn't long for the world, that Saint Peter was going to ask me how i'd managed to die as a boy.
"Live in peace, Silas Greene, you will know the love of a wife, children, and many grandchildren." He said with a voice that rumbled like thunder, and he laid his hand across my shoulder. That cold went through me all the way to my soul, and i felt the chill of the grave. "Sleep now, this is not for your eyes, boy." And i slept, the most peaceful sleep i'd ever had, before or since. I slept that night, like a baby attached to his momma. I awoke the next morning to see the hell that had been wrought, but i carried Death's mark, where he'd lain his hand across my shoulder, the skin had scarred over and turned white.
The soldiers had scoured the campsite, and found no one alive, save for Silas and the horse, and when they returned later to examine it again, the campsite was gone, like the creek had swallowed it up again.
"I need your help, Carter, please, I have attached the coordinates for this town, I hope to see you soon, old friend."
And like that, like an idiot, he was off chasing a windmill to slay.
Monday, October 19, 2015
Fan Fiction (I like battletech fiction)
The cockpit is a lonely place, filled with the scent of human misery. Fear, desire, desperation, the exultation of a long day driving a machine past its operational limits. It's hot as hell too, between the heat built up by driving the damn thing everywhere, to the overburdened heat systems generated by weapons fire, the cockpit of a battlemech can quickly became a place furnace that kills hopes and dreams
"Angel 1 to Angel Angel Lance, advance, moderate speed, let's get this valley scouted ahead of the rest of the company's advance." Martha said quickly over the comms. They were closing in eight hours of this, scouting across this barren wasteland. The Captain had given them an operational directive to scout the valley by nightfall, and deal with anything that cropped up ahead of the main advance tomorrow.
"Roger that, Angel 1."
"Affirmative, I'm engaging my advanced sensor suite"
"I'm heading up to that hill top to see if i can get a better line of sight for a lookielou."
"Lookielou, what language are you speaking?" Martha barked over the comm. Jansen could never bother being precise with what he was saying or doing, and it drove her up the wall. They were soldiers, on patrol, not cub scouts out looking for a camp site.
"Sorry, Lieutenant, I'm going to advance to that hill top to see if i can get a better line of sight for any tangos that may be lurking in this area."
That was better, at least she knew what he was actually doing now. Huda moved his Owens into the Valley, using its Active Probe to look for hidden objects while Grigsby move his Phoenix Hawk in for support. Jansen's Wasp was coming down from a jet assisted landing on that hill top when everything went to hell. The radar lit up, with contacts all over the valley.
"Boss, I've got at least three squads of battle armored infantry snaking their way through those buildings at 9 o'clock, and i picked up at least three fusion reactors kicking to life."
"Any Idea what they are?"
"First two look familiar, I'm guessing its a Wolverine and a Spider, but i've got no idea about the last one, it's deeper into the valley. Maybe Jansen's got a better angle on it."
"Jansen, what's going on up there?"
"I've got contacts, Boss, I make a Wolverine, one of the newer models, but the Spider i can see is a hunk of junk. I see something moving around further down the valley, but i'm not sure. I know its big, at least a heavy."
Martha nodded "All right, Jansen, drop a couple of volleys of infernos into those buildings and see if you can smoke out that battle armor. I don't want us to get caught between them and their larger friends coming this way. Huda, Grigsby, move into position to catch that Spider, then wheel around and catch the Wolverine."
She heard the acknowledgments from the rest of her lance as she turned her attention to the situation at hand. Almost as an afterthought, she opened another channel back to her HQ. "Angel 1 to Night Horse,"
"This is Night Horse, Angel 1, what's your sitrep."
"We've just entered the Gorock valley, encountering resistance. so far counting three squads of battle armor, and short lance of mechs, a Spider, a Wolverine, and an unidentified heavy. We are moving to engage."
"Negative, Angel 1, pull back, the other scouts are reporting stiff resistance across that line of advance 100 klicks in either direction."
"We can break them here." She saw the buildings where the infantry had dug in catch fire from the inferno missiles that Jansen had lobbed their way. They'd pulled back, out of the engagement zone after exchanging a couple of volleys of fire with the Wasp. They were smart enough to know that even with the extra armor from their suits, they probably weren't going to match up with a battlemech in an open field.
Huda had wheeled his Owens into position and Grigsby was using a rocky outcropping to hide his position from the other side. Radar would give a reasonable approximation of where he was, but without actual line of sight he was in a pretty good spot to get a sucker punch off. She grit her teeth as her Enforcer moved into the open field. She was going to bait them into the open so that her lance mates could pick them off.
Except they weren't advancing. They were playing it very coyly, what were they doing? She racked her brain for thirty long seconds before the sky answered for her. They weren't charging in because that's not what their job for the day was. They were there to bottleneck them in place. Her sensors picked up the approach first, but her eyes weren't trusting them. Four Aerospace fighters strafed the corridor of the valley they were in, ruby darts of energy slashing up and down the valley floor. She pushed her 'Mech as fast as it would move, but she took a salvo across the right side of her mech, scoring hits across the arm and the leg. She raised her Autocannon to take a shot at one of the fighters, but they were all ready leaving her effective range when the ground erupted.
Her Enforcer took two direct hits from the giant missiles. Somewhere out there, someone had decided to fire artillery scale missiles at them. Her 'mech went down as the missiles took out her all ready damaged right leg, and the last thing she saw was her mech's cockpit crashing to the ground at a high rate of speed.
Twenty Minutes Later
Martha slammed her helmet into the side of the simulator she'd spent the day in. How could she have been so stupid to charge into that valley, she should have known better. They'd let her stew in the heat of a powered down simulator for another twenty minutes before letting her out. The instructor had no doubt marked the time of their engagement and the situation that led up to this.
"Damn it!" She slammed the helmet into the wall again.
"Easy, Martha, it was a mistake any of us could have made." Huda had popped the simulator open, and was in the process of peeling out of his cooling vest. The heat must have gotten a lot hotter for him, he was ashen faced and coated in sweat.
"What happened to you?"
"The Infantry came back with flame throwers. after you went down, the Wolverine baited me into a lightly forested position which promptly got set on fire. I went down to a PPC shot from the Wolverine.
"How'd Grigsby and Jansen do?"
"We got our asses handed to us." Jansen was speaking for Grigsby, who was busy cooling down the back of her neck with a wet cloth. "After you and Huda got dropped, we tried to go on the offensive, and managed to drop that Wolverine, but that heavy ended our day."
"What was it?" Martha's hands were still shaking, this was going to be a long, crappy debriefing.
"Warhammer, some sort of custom jobby, I've never seen anything like it."
"Whoever was driving it was no slouch, i swear i hit that thing with my lasers, but i don't think i scratched the paint." Grigsby finally added her voice to the conversation.
"How'd you guys do?" Martel asked them quietly. They'd all been in the simulators today, all running the same mission, but each mission had some minor tweaks to it, so that not everybody had the same experience. They knew that the instructors would vary the experience to make it more interesting, and a better learning opportunity.
"We got the Valley, got dropped by an ambush." Jansen said quietly. Martel's lance usually did better than them, and it irked him.
"We didn't make it to the valley, we got hit by a roving patrol of head hunters about 60 klicks outside of the target area."
"Sucks to be you." Jansen smirked quietly.
"No, my little cadets, it sucks to be all of you." Everyone snapped to attention, Chief Pryde had arrived. "You all made at least one fatal mistake, and you're going to tell me all about it. Debriefing room, 1 hour. Eat your supper, then get ready for a long night of getting your asses kicked again.
"Yes Sir." the cadets said in union.
"Dismissed."
"Angel 1 to Angel Angel Lance, advance, moderate speed, let's get this valley scouted ahead of the rest of the company's advance." Martha said quickly over the comms. They were closing in eight hours of this, scouting across this barren wasteland. The Captain had given them an operational directive to scout the valley by nightfall, and deal with anything that cropped up ahead of the main advance tomorrow.
"Roger that, Angel 1."
"Affirmative, I'm engaging my advanced sensor suite"
"I'm heading up to that hill top to see if i can get a better line of sight for a lookielou."
"Lookielou, what language are you speaking?" Martha barked over the comm. Jansen could never bother being precise with what he was saying or doing, and it drove her up the wall. They were soldiers, on patrol, not cub scouts out looking for a camp site.
"Sorry, Lieutenant, I'm going to advance to that hill top to see if i can get a better line of sight for any tangos that may be lurking in this area."
That was better, at least she knew what he was actually doing now. Huda moved his Owens into the Valley, using its Active Probe to look for hidden objects while Grigsby move his Phoenix Hawk in for support. Jansen's Wasp was coming down from a jet assisted landing on that hill top when everything went to hell. The radar lit up, with contacts all over the valley.
"Boss, I've got at least three squads of battle armored infantry snaking their way through those buildings at 9 o'clock, and i picked up at least three fusion reactors kicking to life."
"Any Idea what they are?"
"First two look familiar, I'm guessing its a Wolverine and a Spider, but i've got no idea about the last one, it's deeper into the valley. Maybe Jansen's got a better angle on it."
"Jansen, what's going on up there?"
"I've got contacts, Boss, I make a Wolverine, one of the newer models, but the Spider i can see is a hunk of junk. I see something moving around further down the valley, but i'm not sure. I know its big, at least a heavy."
Martha nodded "All right, Jansen, drop a couple of volleys of infernos into those buildings and see if you can smoke out that battle armor. I don't want us to get caught between them and their larger friends coming this way. Huda, Grigsby, move into position to catch that Spider, then wheel around and catch the Wolverine."
She heard the acknowledgments from the rest of her lance as she turned her attention to the situation at hand. Almost as an afterthought, she opened another channel back to her HQ. "Angel 1 to Night Horse,"
"This is Night Horse, Angel 1, what's your sitrep."
"We've just entered the Gorock valley, encountering resistance. so far counting three squads of battle armor, and short lance of mechs, a Spider, a Wolverine, and an unidentified heavy. We are moving to engage."
"Negative, Angel 1, pull back, the other scouts are reporting stiff resistance across that line of advance 100 klicks in either direction."
"We can break them here." She saw the buildings where the infantry had dug in catch fire from the inferno missiles that Jansen had lobbed their way. They'd pulled back, out of the engagement zone after exchanging a couple of volleys of fire with the Wasp. They were smart enough to know that even with the extra armor from their suits, they probably weren't going to match up with a battlemech in an open field.
Huda had wheeled his Owens into position and Grigsby was using a rocky outcropping to hide his position from the other side. Radar would give a reasonable approximation of where he was, but without actual line of sight he was in a pretty good spot to get a sucker punch off. She grit her teeth as her Enforcer moved into the open field. She was going to bait them into the open so that her lance mates could pick them off.
Except they weren't advancing. They were playing it very coyly, what were they doing? She racked her brain for thirty long seconds before the sky answered for her. They weren't charging in because that's not what their job for the day was. They were there to bottleneck them in place. Her sensors picked up the approach first, but her eyes weren't trusting them. Four Aerospace fighters strafed the corridor of the valley they were in, ruby darts of energy slashing up and down the valley floor. She pushed her 'Mech as fast as it would move, but she took a salvo across the right side of her mech, scoring hits across the arm and the leg. She raised her Autocannon to take a shot at one of the fighters, but they were all ready leaving her effective range when the ground erupted.
Her Enforcer took two direct hits from the giant missiles. Somewhere out there, someone had decided to fire artillery scale missiles at them. Her 'mech went down as the missiles took out her all ready damaged right leg, and the last thing she saw was her mech's cockpit crashing to the ground at a high rate of speed.
Twenty Minutes Later
Martha slammed her helmet into the side of the simulator she'd spent the day in. How could she have been so stupid to charge into that valley, she should have known better. They'd let her stew in the heat of a powered down simulator for another twenty minutes before letting her out. The instructor had no doubt marked the time of their engagement and the situation that led up to this.
"Damn it!" She slammed the helmet into the wall again.
"Easy, Martha, it was a mistake any of us could have made." Huda had popped the simulator open, and was in the process of peeling out of his cooling vest. The heat must have gotten a lot hotter for him, he was ashen faced and coated in sweat.
"What happened to you?"
"The Infantry came back with flame throwers. after you went down, the Wolverine baited me into a lightly forested position which promptly got set on fire. I went down to a PPC shot from the Wolverine.
"How'd Grigsby and Jansen do?"
"We got our asses handed to us." Jansen was speaking for Grigsby, who was busy cooling down the back of her neck with a wet cloth. "After you and Huda got dropped, we tried to go on the offensive, and managed to drop that Wolverine, but that heavy ended our day."
"What was it?" Martha's hands were still shaking, this was going to be a long, crappy debriefing.
"Warhammer, some sort of custom jobby, I've never seen anything like it."
"Whoever was driving it was no slouch, i swear i hit that thing with my lasers, but i don't think i scratched the paint." Grigsby finally added her voice to the conversation.
"How'd you guys do?" Martel asked them quietly. They'd all been in the simulators today, all running the same mission, but each mission had some minor tweaks to it, so that not everybody had the same experience. They knew that the instructors would vary the experience to make it more interesting, and a better learning opportunity.
"We got the Valley, got dropped by an ambush." Jansen said quietly. Martel's lance usually did better than them, and it irked him.
"We didn't make it to the valley, we got hit by a roving patrol of head hunters about 60 klicks outside of the target area."
"Sucks to be you." Jansen smirked quietly.
"No, my little cadets, it sucks to be all of you." Everyone snapped to attention, Chief Pryde had arrived. "You all made at least one fatal mistake, and you're going to tell me all about it. Debriefing room, 1 hour. Eat your supper, then get ready for a long night of getting your asses kicked again.
"Yes Sir." the cadets said in union.
"Dismissed."
Subject Interview JD Session 1 (Origin Story)
This is a recording, taken by persons unknown, to be shown to all students entering the Mayday Facility during their mandatory Ethics course
The camera light blinks to life, and the technician fiddles with it for just a moment before giving the thumbs up to the man who's going to be asking me the questions. He's nervous, I can read the micro expressions in his face well enough to know that whatever else he's done in his life, he hasn't prepared for this, not for me. Who could blame him, I'm a fucking monster to people like him, The boogie man crossed with the Predator crossed with the an avenging angel. I can feel his expression harden, he's ready to start asking the questions. I give him the easy smile, clinking the cuffs on my wrists together, might as well ring the bell and get the day started.
"State your name for the record." He's all business, all professional. It's a good start.
"My birth name?"
"Yes."
"I was born Mitchell Reed, in a little suburb of St. Louis. My parents are both deceased, and i have one living sibling that i haven't seen since the visitors arrived."
"And your other name?"
"The name my Father gave me?"
"Yes, that name."
"My Father named me Judgment Day." I let the words hang in the air. His breath catches in his throat, he didn't expect it to be this easy. I don't know why, it's not like i go out of my way to make life difficult for the Law. They're just trying to do their jobs, most of them anyway.
"You are aware that you have active warrants across most of the planet?"
"If i accepted that your laws had merit to people like me, I would care."
"So you don't recognize the legal authority of sovereign countries?"
"I believe the funniest joke i had ever heard was a judge telling me i'd be sentenced by a jury of my peers."
"Why's that funny to you."
"Look at me, i have no peers." I catch his eyes with mine, and stare into him. He's lost in the green of my eyes, the tell tale flickers of the lightning running through my veins. "Even among my own kind, i am unique."
"So you're not a criminal because our laws don't apply to you?"
"Never something so gauche. I am a criminal you can't prosecute because your jurisdiction is insufficient to reach me."
"Tell me about April 1st, 1997."
"The day the visitors arrived?"
"Yes, what were you doing that day."
"Running an errand for a friend of a friend."
"Who were you killing, and how much money were you getting paid?"
"I was doing a pro bono job, someone had stolen something important to me."
The building was a fortress. Marsden had done his research, and spent a fortune to make sure that this place was a deathtrap. I was flattered, really. This kind of thoughtfulness on the part of another human being was touching in an odd way. He cared enough to try to kill me with the very best henchmen and equipment.
I was starting my approach. The longer i could keep things quiet, the higher the chances of this going off without me getting anyone important killed. That was the mission, recover the package, no matter the cost. Marsden had to have known what kind of hellfire this would bring down on him. He couldn't be stupid enough to think that this would keep from my appointed rounds.
The car had been stolen the night before and hidden out of sight. It was a simple matter to rig it with enough explosives to cause a great smoking distraction. The guards moved off their spots to check the car, which opened the gap in the security that i needed to slip in. By the numbers, i had less than a minute to get from the exterior wall to the house before security moved back to their positions.
I felt the shock wave as the car exploded. I knew if i was going to have a chance, i'd need to cause a ruckus, especially one that would that draw the cops and fire fighters and some EMTs if i were lucky. That poor Taurus, it deserved a better funeral than that, but i knew it had to be done. I'd make sure the poor bastards i borrowed it from would have a new one by the close of business tomorrow, i'd all ready had that taken care of.
If i were lucky, four of the security were down, and a rain of flaming debris was coating the street. I slipped through the kitchen door as quietly as i could, letting out a low sigh. I'd gotten this far, and the cook had just seen me. The knife left my hand in a blur, and the cook was face down in a mixing bowl...looks like a German chocolate cake.
I knew this place was wired with cameras, sensors and a pile of other electronic devices. I tapped the remote twice, and tossed the device into the hallway. I hope the money i paid for this thing was worth it. I heard the low popping noises, and the lights went out. Three pounds of plastic explosive, distributed across 12 power lines and two transformers had done their work. The other effect was the one i was counting on. The emergency lights kicked on for just a second, and then the power went completely out. Electromagnetic pulses were a beautiful thing.
Two guards burst into the room, pistols leveled. I nodded at the two of them, raising the AA-12 from its resting position. I see the flash of realization in their eyes. The entire room sees the flash from the shotgun. Two very loud bangs later, and they're both smears on the wall. No time for quiet or subtlety anymore. Time to get loud and proud.
I toss a flash bang through every door way i have access to before pushing through to the staircase. Two more loud bangs drop two more ugly guards on the way. These guys have an idea of what's coming, and i hear the pull back order over their radios. They're splitting up, one team heading to protect the vault, where i made the assumption that Marsden would be keeping the thing i came to recover, and the other team was moving to protect Marsden himself, on the upper floor.
I know Marsden, he's not going to sit still while his house is being treated like a Bosnian suburb during a raid. He's going to try and find me himself. I can't help it, i smile to myself as i bound the stairs down, heading into the bowels of this building to find the vault. That's why i'm here, I want back what he's taken from me.
The camera light blinks to life, and the technician fiddles with it for just a moment before giving the thumbs up to the man who's going to be asking me the questions. He's nervous, I can read the micro expressions in his face well enough to know that whatever else he's done in his life, he hasn't prepared for this, not for me. Who could blame him, I'm a fucking monster to people like him, The boogie man crossed with the Predator crossed with the an avenging angel. I can feel his expression harden, he's ready to start asking the questions. I give him the easy smile, clinking the cuffs on my wrists together, might as well ring the bell and get the day started.
"State your name for the record." He's all business, all professional. It's a good start.
"My birth name?"
"Yes."
"I was born Mitchell Reed, in a little suburb of St. Louis. My parents are both deceased, and i have one living sibling that i haven't seen since the visitors arrived."
"And your other name?"
"The name my Father gave me?"
"Yes, that name."
"My Father named me Judgment Day." I let the words hang in the air. His breath catches in his throat, he didn't expect it to be this easy. I don't know why, it's not like i go out of my way to make life difficult for the Law. They're just trying to do their jobs, most of them anyway.
"You are aware that you have active warrants across most of the planet?"
"If i accepted that your laws had merit to people like me, I would care."
"So you don't recognize the legal authority of sovereign countries?"
"I believe the funniest joke i had ever heard was a judge telling me i'd be sentenced by a jury of my peers."
"Why's that funny to you."
"Look at me, i have no peers." I catch his eyes with mine, and stare into him. He's lost in the green of my eyes, the tell tale flickers of the lightning running through my veins. "Even among my own kind, i am unique."
"So you're not a criminal because our laws don't apply to you?"
"Never something so gauche. I am a criminal you can't prosecute because your jurisdiction is insufficient to reach me."
"Tell me about April 1st, 1997."
"The day the visitors arrived?"
"Yes, what were you doing that day."
"Running an errand for a friend of a friend."
"Who were you killing, and how much money were you getting paid?"
"I was doing a pro bono job, someone had stolen something important to me."
The building was a fortress. Marsden had done his research, and spent a fortune to make sure that this place was a deathtrap. I was flattered, really. This kind of thoughtfulness on the part of another human being was touching in an odd way. He cared enough to try to kill me with the very best henchmen and equipment.
I was starting my approach. The longer i could keep things quiet, the higher the chances of this going off without me getting anyone important killed. That was the mission, recover the package, no matter the cost. Marsden had to have known what kind of hellfire this would bring down on him. He couldn't be stupid enough to think that this would keep from my appointed rounds.
The car had been stolen the night before and hidden out of sight. It was a simple matter to rig it with enough explosives to cause a great smoking distraction. The guards moved off their spots to check the car, which opened the gap in the security that i needed to slip in. By the numbers, i had less than a minute to get from the exterior wall to the house before security moved back to their positions.
I felt the shock wave as the car exploded. I knew if i was going to have a chance, i'd need to cause a ruckus, especially one that would that draw the cops and fire fighters and some EMTs if i were lucky. That poor Taurus, it deserved a better funeral than that, but i knew it had to be done. I'd make sure the poor bastards i borrowed it from would have a new one by the close of business tomorrow, i'd all ready had that taken care of.
If i were lucky, four of the security were down, and a rain of flaming debris was coating the street. I slipped through the kitchen door as quietly as i could, letting out a low sigh. I'd gotten this far, and the cook had just seen me. The knife left my hand in a blur, and the cook was face down in a mixing bowl...looks like a German chocolate cake.
I knew this place was wired with cameras, sensors and a pile of other electronic devices. I tapped the remote twice, and tossed the device into the hallway. I hope the money i paid for this thing was worth it. I heard the low popping noises, and the lights went out. Three pounds of plastic explosive, distributed across 12 power lines and two transformers had done their work. The other effect was the one i was counting on. The emergency lights kicked on for just a second, and then the power went completely out. Electromagnetic pulses were a beautiful thing.
Two guards burst into the room, pistols leveled. I nodded at the two of them, raising the AA-12 from its resting position. I see the flash of realization in their eyes. The entire room sees the flash from the shotgun. Two very loud bangs later, and they're both smears on the wall. No time for quiet or subtlety anymore. Time to get loud and proud.
I toss a flash bang through every door way i have access to before pushing through to the staircase. Two more loud bangs drop two more ugly guards on the way. These guys have an idea of what's coming, and i hear the pull back order over their radios. They're splitting up, one team heading to protect the vault, where i made the assumption that Marsden would be keeping the thing i came to recover, and the other team was moving to protect Marsden himself, on the upper floor.
I know Marsden, he's not going to sit still while his house is being treated like a Bosnian suburb during a raid. He's going to try and find me himself. I can't help it, i smile to myself as i bound the stairs down, heading into the bowels of this building to find the vault. That's why i'm here, I want back what he's taken from me.
Friday, October 16, 2015
Random Thoughts
So one of the blogs is extremely serious (www.zardozedupsych.blogspot.com)
The other blog is a little bit lighter (www.zardozgames.blogspot.com)
This blog will be devoted to my written projects (The Fantasy World i'm designing for gaming projects, the superhero universe i constructed for another game, random prose, if i'm drunk enough poetry might show up here and again) that aren't articles or reviews of other people's stuff.
So what's this one about?
The Strangest experience i have is when i am working on a project or a work problem ( I work as an accountant for most of my week, and the numbers will drive you nuts), and an idea pops into my head. Like a belch, it comes from deep inside, and it lingers ever so briefly, but if i stop and take the moment to think on that idea, it forms into a concept, and if i really work on it, it becomes more than that. This is the first one of those unbidden thoughts I've written down on here.
I Look with eyes that can not see, I am confused, uncertain, something's wrong, something's missing. I can't feel the thumping...there's supposed to be a thumping sound. My brain is not recognizable as a brain now, barely the accumulation of eight cellular nuclei, but i know what i am supposed to be. This is not right, i should be able to hear it, hear her from inside.
The word forms in my thoughts....Mother, i should be able to hear my mother, hear her heartbeat. It's missing, SHE's missing, how can this biological process occur without her? I look into myself, with the eyes that can not see, and i know what they have done. A human embryo has been used as a test bed for something that should not be.
I am the framework around which a genetic experiment is being conducted. Where did they find this gene sequence, its not human, not terrestrial, not even of this galaxy, where could they have found it? The question remains unanswered, i can feel no other minds nearby, but i can feel the machinery. I am in an artificial womb, and i can feel the low hum of the equipment vibrating through the nutrient bath i call my home. It is not my mother, but it feels safe, and warm.
This unnaturalness that permeates me is horrifying. I can feel the humanity in my blood and my tiny bones shaking against the alien physiology, but it will not succeed. These fools have no idea what they have created. How could they have been so foolish to create a hybrid without an idea of what it would look like, what it would be capable of?
I wonder if all my kind...their kind are so foolish. My advanced biology is starting to work. I'm gestating at a remarkable rate. Tiny bones form, the organs begin to take shape. If only i were a human, i would be astonished by this transformation, but i am not human, not completely, and the only feeling i have for my future is dread.
The other blog is a little bit lighter (www.zardozgames.blogspot.com)
This blog will be devoted to my written projects (The Fantasy World i'm designing for gaming projects, the superhero universe i constructed for another game, random prose, if i'm drunk enough poetry might show up here and again) that aren't articles or reviews of other people's stuff.
So what's this one about?
The Strangest experience i have is when i am working on a project or a work problem ( I work as an accountant for most of my week, and the numbers will drive you nuts), and an idea pops into my head. Like a belch, it comes from deep inside, and it lingers ever so briefly, but if i stop and take the moment to think on that idea, it forms into a concept, and if i really work on it, it becomes more than that. This is the first one of those unbidden thoughts I've written down on here.
I Look with eyes that can not see, I am confused, uncertain, something's wrong, something's missing. I can't feel the thumping...there's supposed to be a thumping sound. My brain is not recognizable as a brain now, barely the accumulation of eight cellular nuclei, but i know what i am supposed to be. This is not right, i should be able to hear it, hear her from inside.
The word forms in my thoughts....Mother, i should be able to hear my mother, hear her heartbeat. It's missing, SHE's missing, how can this biological process occur without her? I look into myself, with the eyes that can not see, and i know what they have done. A human embryo has been used as a test bed for something that should not be.
I am the framework around which a genetic experiment is being conducted. Where did they find this gene sequence, its not human, not terrestrial, not even of this galaxy, where could they have found it? The question remains unanswered, i can feel no other minds nearby, but i can feel the machinery. I am in an artificial womb, and i can feel the low hum of the equipment vibrating through the nutrient bath i call my home. It is not my mother, but it feels safe, and warm.
This unnaturalness that permeates me is horrifying. I can feel the humanity in my blood and my tiny bones shaking against the alien physiology, but it will not succeed. These fools have no idea what they have created. How could they have been so foolish to create a hybrid without an idea of what it would look like, what it would be capable of?
I wonder if all my kind...their kind are so foolish. My advanced biology is starting to work. I'm gestating at a remarkable rate. Tiny bones form, the organs begin to take shape. If only i were a human, i would be astonished by this transformation, but i am not human, not completely, and the only feeling i have for my future is dread.
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