Tag: Writing (page 11 of 47)

Free Fiction: The Jovian Gambit

Jupiter & Callisto

Continuing experiments in cross-pollination between old myths and newer storytelling genres. They didn’t have spaceships and ray guns in ancient Greece, after all.

As always, you can download the PDF or read the text after the spoiler tags. However you enjoy your fiction, this is how to do it.

Spoiler

Tranquility Base was a misleading name for the installation, at least on the date in question. After a great deal of communication between the Terran government and the Jovian military, a single vessel was authorized to cross the interplanetary void. It docked at Tranquility Base under the watchful remote visual links of the installation’s massive MAC batteries. The turrets turned back towards the infinite emptiness as the docking collar was secured and the ships’ passengers walked to their destination.

Rear Admiral Cyprus knew what to expect. He sat behind the carved mahogany desk, his hands resting on the blotter as he monitored the progress of his guests through the polished metal corridors. He reminded himself, as he often did, that this heirloom had required as much fuel to move from Terra to his office as a lightly-armed infiltration squad. He didn’t want to forget that some sacrifices were necessary while others were frivolous.

Next to him stood his adjutant, who kept an ear out for the trod of incoming boots which were somewhat muffled by the carpeted walkways. Their guest had a presence, however, and both men felt it when the doors parted to admit him and his handful of armed escorts.

“Welcome to Luna, General Minos,” Cyprus said cordially. “I trust your journey was a pleasant one?”

“Space travel is a tedious and uncomfortable experience.” Minos of Io was flanked by four of his personal guard, veteran soldiers, killers to a man. “Not to mention I have very little patience for Terrans in general and Terran Command in particular. The politicians and peaceniks may be interested in peace between us, but as far as I’m concerned the Jovian Colonies deserve to be treated as separate, sovereign worlds. But I’m not here to debate our independence. I’m looking for a scientist.”

“You’ve come to the right place. Tranquility Base is one of the Terran Confederacy’s premiere research stations. We have quite a few scientists here.”

“I’m looking for one in particular. Rather than dance around verbally, however, I have a means of discovering if he is here.” The general handed a small data card to the admiral. “Transmit the contents of this data card to your research staff. It contains an algorithm that, I am told, is unsolvable. It was being developed on Callisto before the abduction of the scientist in question, and we believe he might be able to solve it.”

Cyprus nodded, doing as the general asked. The admiral’s adjutant looked on as Cyprus sent the data to the terminals throughout Tranquility Base. Once the transmission was complete, the admiral leaned back to regard his Jovian counterpart.

“Why don’t you take a seat, General? This might take a while.”

“I suspect it won’t.” Minos stroked his mustache. Cyprus made a non-committal noise. Terran tracking stations had been observing Minos’ spacecraft as it made its way through the asteroid belt and stopped on the Martian moons. Both stops had seen the general storming into the commanding officer’s presence, make this same demand and leaving after all of the scientists and mathematicians at both installations had given up. Minos, however, was undeterred. Cyprus knew the Jovian would scour the surface of Terra if he had to.

A soft ping was heard from Cyprus’ terminal. He looked it over for a moment, and then turned the screen to face Minos. The equation staring back at the Jovian general made no sense to him, but the fact that it was a solution caused him to lean across Cyprus’ desk with a snarl.

“I want Professor Daedalus returned to Jovian custody at once.”

“Professor Daedalus is not a prisoner.” Cyprus’ fingers interlaced under his chin as his elbows rested on his blotter. “He is our guest, and if it is his wish to return to Callisto…”

“He was abducted!” Minos roared, pounding the desk with his fist. “An infiltration squad of Terran soldiers came to Callisto, using the storms and gravitational shadow of Jupiter to mask their presence. They navigated our corridors, kidnapped Professor Daedalus, stole or destroyed his research, and killed several of my men, including my base security chief, Colonel Talos. His presence here is all the proof I need. You will release him to my custody, and if you wish to prevent a full-scale interplanetary war, you will hand over the terrorists responsible for this cowardly act!”

Cyprus remained unmoved in expression. After a moment, he addressed his adjutant without looking away from the enraged Jovian.

“Lieutenant Commander Theseus, here, will take you to Daedalus. Commander, if you would.”

“Aye, sir,” Theseus replied, moving to the door. “This way, gentlemen.”

Minos was surprised, but hid his emotions behind his mustache. The Terrans were capitulating too easily. Something was going on that he didn’t like. Was he being deceived? Had they moved Daedalus to another location, or were they perhaps in the process of doing that now?

“You commanded the Taurus division,” Theseus observed as they walked, “which was involved in more exchanges during the war than any other unit on either side.”

“That’s true.” Minos tried to put his frustration and suspicion behind him. “They served with courage and honored us with their sacrifices.”

“I have no doubts about that,” said the younger man, guiding them through the brushed steel corridors, “but I have to wonder why the Martian colonies were so brutally handled. Most of the population there were civilians, and I hear the noxious weapons used on the crop domes fed into the air processors in a way that will take decades to clear up before new colonists can settle there.”

“Much of that is hyperbole and propaganda,” Minos said dismissively. “There were reports of Terran troops hiding among the civilian population. There were civilian casualties on Mars, yes, but the damage done to the fragile and fledgling eco-system was as much the fault of the cretins designing the processing plants as it was any Jovian action.”

Theseus nodded and changed the subject. “I can understand why you want Professor Daedalus returned. He’s been a real asset since his arrival, and has made several key changes to the installation.”

“You’ve been forcing him to work?”

“No, we haven’t. We don’t force people to do anything when they come to us willingly.”

The commander’s words made Minos stop in his tracks. Theseus turned. The Jovians were standing in an intersection of corridors, and when Theseus reached out and touched a spot on the wall, four heavy doors slammed down around them. Each door had a small, thick porthole in it, and Theseus was visible through one of them. There was the hissing sound of a pressure seal, and Minos’ men raised their weapons.

“Put those down!” Minos snapped. “You want to kill us with ricochets, you idiots? Burn us out!” One of his men fumbled with a backpack looking for his torch when a speaker snapped on.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Theseus said coldly into the handset he now held, “Daedalus has made some changes to our installation, such as these heavy blast doors that resist hard vacuum. He prepared them specifically for your arrival. He told us you’d be coming.”

“You coward!”

“I’d save your breath, General. You haven’t got much time left. Do you have a message for your family? You see, I was never given the opportunity to send one to mine. They were colonists on Mars, who were slaughtered on your orders.”

Minos raised his chin. “How does this make you any better than me, Commander?”

Theseus stalked to the porthole, scowling at Minos. The general was taken aback. The man who had appeared as nothing more than a glorified secretary suddenly had a countenance appropriate to the blackest pages of human history, an absolute terror to behold.

“When I kill, Minos, I kill soldiers. I kill those fighting to kill me. I killed Talos because he was about to send me to my family by way of a poisoned dagger at my throat. As for the civilians on Callisto, not a single one was harmed and I doubt most were even aware of our presence. War is an ugly and brutal thing to behold, let alone participate in, and yet you brought it into people’s homes when you had no right. Children and pregnant mothers died choking on their own vomit because of you. Seven thousand souls, and you snuffed out every single one without having the courage to show your face.”

Minos tried to muster a defiant response, to salvage some sort of moral or pyrrhic victory from this. The guard trying to get his torch working finally lit the white hot flame.

“Take a good look at my face, Minos,” Theseus was saying. “This is the face of a murderer who looks his victim in the eye. It’s the last thing Talos saw. Now you two have that in common. Daedalus would tell you to give his regards to his son, but we both know you’re not going the same place he went.”

And with that, Theseus activated the chamber’s upper door. It opened to the blackness of space above Luna. Minos maintained eye contact with the younger man before he was pulled upwards into the void. Without pressure suits, all seven men were dead within minutes. Theseus turned away and adjusted the channel on his handset.

“Get a cleanup crew to junction DA-12, exterior. Have the bodies put back on the Jovian ship per Professor Daedalus’ instructions.”

He walked through the installation and down a flight of stairs, into the very bowels of Luna. He found his quarry sitting at a terminal in the corner of one of the workrooms, indistinguishable from the other desks. The man’s hair had grown along with his beard, but when he looked up his eyes shone with the intelligence and resolve Theseus had seen from the moment he’d found the physicist in the darkness of Minos’ base.

“It’s done,” Theseus said quietly. Daedalus sighed a bit, passing a hand over his eyes.

“My son can rest in peace. Are their bodies being put back on their ship?”

“Just as you asked. It happened just as you said, right down to him using that equation to determine you were here. How did you know he’d do that, by the way?”

“You can’t determine one human biorhythm from another unless you get very close. Using a negrav ship for our escape masked our trail, and he had little else to go on after I deleted my files & backups and you trashed the servers.”

“So why this equation in particular? What is it, exactly?”

“It’s a small program I put into long equation form. A bit of a cypher, really. It expresses the intent and procedure of the program mathematically, like using an encryption key to make a simple text message appear as random characters. I never did get to finish the equation version of the program, however, and without my files…”

“You brought some with you, didn’t you? I mean you’ve been working on a new negrav design…”

“Yes, my boy, but I didn’t save any information on this program. I couldn’t. I didn’t want Minos to have any idea what was in store for him. But now that the equation is complete, I can tease it out into a programming format and use it for its intended purpose. Instead of him going to war to get me back, he used the equation to track me down, when all the while I’ve been here waiting for him. The program he unwittingly helped complete will cause his ship to have an accident on the way back to Callisto. The accident will occur after he reports, in his own voice, that I have been retrieved without incident.”

“I’m sure the Jovians will cry sabotage.”

“They might, they might indeed. But I hope you and I will be far enough from this place that it won’t matter. You mentioned my new design, Theseus, and I’m curious as to your input.”

The physicist called up a schematic of his design, and it sprang to life above the desk, floating in midair, rotating slowly to allow Theseus to take in every angle. He was speechless, and Daedalus smiled for the first time since before his son left Callisto for the last time.

“I’m glad you like it, Commander. I call it the Argo.”

Back On Track

Train

The holidays can throw everybody for a loop. I’m no different. Travel schedules, inclement weather and other factors unique to this time of year tend to play havoc with routines and timetables. Things have started to normalize a bit and it’s time I took a bit of stock of where I am now and where I’m heading.

Writing

Citizen in the Wilds is out for test reading. I’m eager to get some reaction and feedback, even if it takes the form of “CHANGE EVERYTHING ‘CAUSE IT SUCKS.” I’ve started compiling and expanding some notes I’ve jotted down on the next Acradea book. I’m going to edit The Jovian Gambit for this Saturday’s Free Fiction, and after that? I’m not sure. Possibly a hard-boiled Cthulhu detective story in the style of C.J. Hendersen, or perhaps a sequel to Akuma. I’m also getting back in the habit of writing for my Warcraft characters, both on forums and in the game proper.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX!

The feedback on the first ICFN video has been generally positive, if somewhat cautious. I’m somewhat trepidatious myself, if I’m honest. I think I’m going to shoot for a new video every month and traditional audio enties in the intervening weeks. The poll will return for those audio entries, and as for the videos, I have a few films in mind. Stay tuned.

Dungeons & Dragons

Everybody in the group’s been a little off their game, no pun intended. We’ll be resuming our normal schedule of Tuesday night games, which means I’ll be returning to posting the adventures (or misadventures) of Andrasian, Krillorien, Lyria and Melanie on Tuesday afternoons. After this current printed advneture (Reavers of Harkenwold from the Dungeon Master Kit) I may move them into homegrown content rather than shoehorning Caern of the Winter King from the Monster Vault into the campaign. Or Wizards might have worked a smooth transition in already. More to come on this.

Magic: the Gathering

The local comic/gaming store has free casual play on Thursday nights, $5 FNM events on Fridays and special events like previews of the upcoming expansion Mirrodin Besieged. Attending paid events is a matter of my entertainment budget, and considering it’s something I enjoy alone and the entertainment budget must cover activies for both my wife and myself, it’s hard for me to justify the expense at this time. And I tend to watch my ICFN audio entries the Thursday night before I post the review. There’s simply not enough time, usually. Again, more to come.

World of Warcraft

Cataclysm has rekindled my interest and enjoyment of this game even more than I’d expected. Between the new areas, the promise of dungeons being challenging again (until the next nerf hits) and the resurgence of interaction with guild mates, this game is the other reason I’ll likely have less time for other activities. However, since I play it with my wife as we have since we’ve met, it’s a much more comfortable expense to work into our slender budget.

Classholes Anonymous Podcast

This is more dependant on Black Eagle’s band schedule than anything else.

This Blog

I plan to keep updating every day. Sometimes I’ll have a notion in mind for days before I post it, and some days – like today – I’m stumped up until lunchtime. Comes from everything else on this list as well as the day job and the other responsibilities of adulthood, I guess.

Until I rebel.

Courtesy Hyperbole and a Half

Platformers and Publication

Courtesy GamePlasma.com
Yeah. It’s like this.

Here’s a somewhat strained metaphor for you, inspired by Chuck’s latest list of reasons why that novel you wrote will never get published.

Platform games can be hard. REALLY hard. I mean brain-taxing finger-cramping swear-inducing endeavors. Getting a book published can be similar. It might not seem like an obvious parallel at first, but bear with me. Like a video playthrough or GameFAQs guide, I’ll walk (or jump, or flip) you through it.

Writing the query – VVVVVV

This seems simple enough. Rescue your crew and gather special trinkets. You have one button, which flips your personal gravity. You walk from one side of the screen to the other, flipping to avoid the occasional enemy and lots (and I do mean LOTS) of spikes. Now swap, “flip your gravity to avoid spikes” with “write a query to get your book published.” It seems simple, right?

Any author with dreams of getting ink will tell you it’s not as simple as it sounds. Condensing tens or hundreds of thousands of words into a couple dozen to grab the attention of an agent is no small feat. And all around you are signs that you won’t be able to do it. Take the Veni, Vidi, Vici sequence:

Obtaining one of the trinkets requires you to go through about 6 consecutive screens filled with nothing but spikes, which on it’s own is extremely difficult. Then the game requires you to turn around immediately (or get impaled) and complete the same six screens in reverse order. More than one player has missed the (rather easy) landing at the end, after successfully navigating Hell itself…
Lampshaded in that there is a message at the beginning stating “Ha! Nobody will ever get this one.”

Submitting queries – Super Meat Boy

Once you get the query done, you start sending it out to agents. Let’s be honest, though. You might as well be sending tangible bits of your soul through a meat grinder. Over and over again.

Hence, Super Meat Boy.

I’ve discussed the trials and tribulations of this game at length before, and the querying process is a lot like this. You send your letters, you wait, you get rejections. At least in Super Meat Boy, you get the results right away, in all their bloody gory glory.

Speaking of which…

Submitting more queries – I Wanna Be The Guy

Straight out of Platform Hell, this tough-as-iron-coffin-nails indy platformer casts you as The Kid. The Kid wants to be the Guy. He’s got a cape that makes him double jump, a gun and infinite lives. Which is a good thing, because everything and its mother is trying to kill you. And they will succeed.

The more queries you send, the more rejections you’ll get. It’s really a matter of how many times you can send more queries, like hitting the R button to try again in I Wanna Be The Guy. Once you get past the sting of one agency’s rejection, like successfully navigating one screen of this game, another is waiting – gleefully, it might seem – to make you feel that pain all over again. In other words, trying to get your book published successfully is like trying to play a ROM hack of BattleToads.

And if you understand that metaphor, you have both my praise and my sympathy.

Five Hundred

Today marks the 500th post on Blue Ink Alchemy. I thought it might be fun to take a peek at the last few round-number milestones, just to see how far we’ve come. Oddly, two of the four hundred-level posts have to do with Maschine Zeit. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

Post 100: Consistent Characters

Say what you like about Stephanie Meyer, the character of Bella Swan remains co-dependent and nearly obsessed with Edward throughout her books, so at least she got the consistency right.

Post 200: I’m Gay for Twain

As far as I’m concerned, the stations are, have been and always will be so many tons of next-generation bullshit at the end of really, really long tethers. It’s the only reason they haven’t stinking up the planet.

Post 300: Game Review: Maschine Zeit

Not everything will go as planned, of course, but when thing are at their darkest and most terrifying, there’s a chance, built into the game’s narrative structure itself, that a player in that situation will seize control of it by saving a fellow player or destroying the monster-thing with an ingenious trap or uncovering some forbidden truth or getting that bit of magical metal to do exactly what they need it to do. Arriving at those moments, taking the reigns of the narrative and watching the dice fall into place as fate agrees to allow that moment happen, is the very essence of Maschine Zeit.

Post 400: Epilogues: Essential or Evil?

Epilogues are interesting creatures. On the one hand, they allow a “where are they now” recap of the stories of your characters, the opportunity to tie up loose ends. On the other, they take place after the principle action of the narrative, perhaps in an arbitrary or artificial fashion.

As always, thank you for reading. Your interest and eyeballs make this possible.

The Query’s The Thing

Red Pen

I’ve discussed querying in the past, and I’ve also mentioned the manuscript-mincing site Query Shark. Since I’m back at the point of sending out queries to agent, I think it’s worth reheating the subject.

Query letters are at once the most straightforward and the most complex thing a novelist can write. It’s straightforward in its concept: “Describe your story and make it appealing to others in 300 words or less.” But the simple aim belies the complexity of assembly. You don’t want to ramble overlong about your content or characters, but you also don’t want to leave out key elements that set your story apart. You also don’t want to spoil too much, however. It’s a fine line, or rather a series of fine lines that make the scope of the letter quite narrow and somewhat difficult to maneuver.

It’s a challenge that must be overcome, however. Unless one is of a mind to self-publish (if you’re not sure you are, consult this checklist) you’ll need representation with the guys that put ink on paper for tens of thousands of tomes. And they’re not going to take just any manuscript that floats in from the street. You need to get them interested, and to do that you need a query.

I plan on refining mine and sending it to Query Shark. I’m ready to be torn to shreds. It’s the only surefire way to build myself up enough to knock out the competition and actually get this thing published.

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