Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 38

Issue 38

January Janu ary 15, 2008 20 08

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Ray Gun Revival Table of Contents Overlords (Founders / Editors): Johne Cook, L. S. King, Paul Chrisan Glenn Glenn

Venerable Staff: A.M. Sckel - Managing Copyeditor Shannon McNear - Lord High Advisor, grammar consultant, listening ear/sanity saver for Overlord Lee Paul Chrisan Glenn - PR, sounding board, strong right hand L. S. King - Lord High Editor, proofreader, beloved nag, muse, webmistress Johne Cook - art wrangler wrangler,, desktop publishing, chief cook and bole washer

2 3 5 9 18 21

Slushmasters (Submissions Editors): Sco M. Sandridge John M. Whalen David Wilhelms Shari L. Armstrong Jack Willard

31

Serial Authors: Sean T. M. Sennon John M. Whalen Ben Schumacher Lee S. King Paul Chrisan Glenn Johne Cook

39

Table of Contents Overlords’ Lair Seismic Moralit Moralityy by Richard S. Levine Earth Wat Watch ch by Neil Carstairs Featured Ar Artist: tist: Yun Ling The Adventur Adventures es of the Sky Pirate Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook Memory Wipe Chapter 17, Takeda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon The RGR Time Capsule January 1 - January 14, 2008

Cover Art: “marine” by Yun Ling Without Whom... Bill Snodgrass, Snodgrass, site host, Web-Net Soluons, admin, webmaster, database admin, mentor, concondante, liaison – Double-edged Publishing

Visit us online at http://raygunrevival.com All content copyright 2008 by Double-edged Publishing ,

a Memphis, Tennessee-based non-prot publisher.

Special Thanks: Ray Gun Revival logo design by Hatchbox Creative Rev: 20080115a

Ray Gun Revival magazine

Issue 38, January 15, 2008

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Overlords’ Overlo rds’ Lair S

o here we are, the first issue after Christmas, and I’m already thinking about the end of the world. Now, to be honest, I wasn’t thinking about rogue black holes or super solar flares, but there are plenty of other things that also qualify.

my hands hands are ed. I could bring down the whole studio with one lawsuit if no earthquake occurs and someone dies in the panic.” “So you won’t even let me present the data.”

For instance, our short stories this time around “We can’t. can’t. I’m going to have to hang up have a definite theme: Saving Saving the Earth. Finding now. Good luck.” these two stories in the slushpile together is what you call ‘a happy accident.’ Far be it from Escalating things, in Earth Watch, Neil Carstairs the Overlords to look a gift theme in the face. imagines what would happen if the entire So here’s the question - if you had the planet was under attack and only a decadesknowledge or ability, what would you do to old secret organization stood between victory save the earth? earth? Our stories this issue grapple and defeat. with that question. In Seismic Morality author Richard S. Levine asks that very question. question. If you knew you could predict a possible earthquake hours in advance, would you warn people? Even if your warning might cause a panic? Hurricane predicon is over a hundred years old. You’ You’re re talking talking about guessing whether something is going to happen and people can’t even see it. it.”” “We’ve been doing 30 second earthquake predicons for years now.” “I’m sorry, Dr. Erdbe. I’d like to help, but


‘Vampires number 24,000 plus,’ a Royal Air Force technician reported from his console. Robin smiled at the callsign given to the incoming cra. The screens were awash with red tracks, falling over the North Pole like a curtain over the stage of a theatre. On his screen a message scrolled across from Central Command. ‘CenCom authorises ICBM launch,’ he reported. His words brought a momentary silence to the room. Anne looked up from her console. ‘Space Staon has visual images. images.’’

‘Show them,’ Robin felt his breath leave his body as the relayed image ickered across a plasma screen. At rst they were only pinpricks of light crawling across the black backdrop of space. It was the sheer number of them that frightened him. He looked down at his hands and saw they were trembling. In The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19 - Courting Danger , Cooper Flynn meets somebody even more dangerous than an unknown assassin—fiery assassin—fiery redhead Clarissa MkDougal. “One more salvo,” she barked, a strand of hair blowing free and falling into her face unnoced. There was another blast from the clis whistling toward Tanith Tanith,, the cannonball narrowly missing the foremast, taking out a spoer crewman on deck. Marking this, the captain looked down at her chart and said, “Hard a ‘port!” and the crew all leaned to starboard, leaning into the steep turn. As she made the turn, she presented her belly and starboard side squarely to the big cli-side guns. By virtue of the speed speed of the maneuver combined with the turn, Tanith slowed even further and was set up, for all


Pg. 4 intents and purposes, as a sing duck for the guns that were now primed and ready on the clis of Zempher. “Now what, Captain?”

protected you. This is why I must protect you now.” . Until the end of the world comes, we humbly thank you for reading our simple stories at Ray Gun Revival magazine.

“Steady as she goes, Mr. Mr. Ells. It’s up to Alacrity now,” said she. Alacrity now,” Memory Wipe, Chapter 17 - Tak Takeda’s eda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon

Johne Cook Overlord, RGR Breezeway, Wisconsin

Sometimes, when you’re looking at the end of the world, the most noble thing a man can do is run off to spare his his friends. And the most noble thing they can do is not to let him. The Lithrallian drew an ivory dagger faster than a blink and slammed it down onto the table. The blade gleamed coldly in the kitchen’s stark uorescent light. “I slit throat with this. One stroke, clean kill. Enough blood to drown in. It spilled on oor but covered me. “There is exile, and there is atonement. On Belar was exile. I live in jungle, hunt, sell hides and skier organs, drink. I am no one. When I met you I was there for ve years. When I saved you from skier, skier, I knew exile was over, and atonement begun. “I saw man in need, eeing from evil men, and knew I could help. Defend. Protect.” His eyes narrowed unl his irises showed as chips of blue in slashes of white. “Save one life. Illuminate darkness of one murder.. I thought this, and I think sll. You murder see, Takeda? This is why I fought with you,



Seismic Morality by Richard S. Levine

Pg. 5


“Y

ou were right! Our satellite received another Extremely Low Frequency (ELF) signal in the Ionosphere.”

Seymour Erdbe looked over the top of the computer monitor to see his young grad student, Stan Presley, staring at the data screen. He replied, “It’s a clear night, and unlikely there’s any interference in the signal. Where’s it resonating from?” Stan turned towards him, his eyes wide. “The signature is Memphis! I think it’s going to be a big one.” “If the New Madrid fault goes it could produce an eight or more on the Richter scale.” “Our software’s interpreting the frequency shift right now. now.”” Seymour stood up. His legs felt weak, his footing unsure. He trembled, though the earth didn’t shake, at least not yet. It had been many years since his days as a second-tier researcher in Berkeley, California. He knew what an 8.5 could do. Visions of broken sidewalks, leaning buildings, and people lying under piles of brick and mortar filled his thoughts. He wiped his closed eyes, hoping the images would disappear. Impatient, as he squeezed the top of his nose, he asked, “So what’s it say? How soon is it coming?” “Hold on. The analysis just completed. A


7.0 or greater earthquake may be coming in the next 25 hours.” “Damn, we had hoped to get at least three days’ notice.” “We’ve got to let people know…give them time to prepare.”

and three intermediaries before getting an assistant to the governor on the phone. He felt ready to jump all over anyone who picked up next. “This is Governor Dewhurst. Dr. Erdbe, is this about an earthquake? We haven’t felt anything here.”

“But the panic…I’ve seen it before with hurricanes. People get killed just trying to get out of town, and we can’t say for sure what the strength of this earthquake is going to be.”

“Governor, you’ve got an earthquake emergency plan, right?”

“If people get caught in an eight or larger, it will be like getting no warning on a category five hurricane.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of our work here at the University of Memphis. We’ve been piggybacking on Berkeley’s ELF research satellite. Listen, you need to evacuate everyone from Memphis to Knoxville and north. All the people in all the towns in Tennessee and our border states need to use their shelters. We expect the possibility of a 7.0 or greater earthquake within 24 hours.”

“You’re right. I’ll call the governor.” Stan replied, “Good idea.” Then he turned back to working the data, his fingers racing over the keyboard. Seymour walked into his office and shut the door. The images remained vivid in his mind, but now they turned more personal: his bloodied wife and child lay under rubble. He felt his own body tense up; his legs refused to move. For a minute, he felt as though he were buried. Then he reached in his pocket, grabbed his mobile phone and verbally ordered, “Call the governor of Tennessee!” # Seymour waited through silent pauses

“Sure. Many states have one.”

“But our earthquake evacuation plans are only for after the event. We’ve never had a warning before of more than 30 seconds. Listen, I’m a practical man. What are the odds?” “Ninety percent chance that there will be a quake. We’ve been pretty good at predicting them over the last few years, but like hurricanes, it’s difficult to predict the magnitude. Given the pressures on this fault, its history, and our measurement accuracy, I estimate a twenty percent chance or more of a seven or greater.”



Pg. 6

“Then, I think those odds are in our favor. I’ll make the public aware that they should try and be somewhere earthquake safe within the next 24 hours, but I won’t give a magnitude prediction. I don’t want to cause a panic.”

Seymour replied, “Sure I still panic every time I think about how they died, because I didn’t act on the ELF data I had. You might be alarmed too if you knew what Memphis was going to look like in 24 hours.”

“But if you evacuate or order people to shelters, you could save lives.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Dr. Erdbe, but I a lso have to think about the people who might get hurt rushing to get out of town. There just isn’t enough time to sanction a calm evacuation, especially when you consider there are at least four states in the area of the New Madrid Fault.”

“Dr. Erdbe, you’ve done some great work in Memphis, and you’ve brought us some prestige among the country’s seismologists. But we know about your past at Berkeley.”

help.” “I’d like to help, but after we did that piece on your ELF research, our legal department paid us a visit. They were worried this might happen. They said we’d be nuts to put you on the air if you ever had a real prediction, unless you were one hundred percent sure. It’s not like the Weather Channel showing a hurricane and some prediction graphs. Hurricane prediction is over a hundred years old. You’re talking about guessing whether something is going to happen, and people can’t even see it.”

“Then you’ll just warn them that an earthquake is coming, and many people are going to “We’ve been doing thirty second earthignore you because they will figure it’s going to quake predictions for years now.” “Are you telling me you no longer think be small, something like 3.1. You’ll have to live about your dead wife and child when there’s “I’m sorry, Dr. Erdbe. I’d like to help, but my with that.” an earthquake? You don’t panic, even a little?” hands are tied. I could bring down the whole “I know, and I will. Goodbye, Doctor.” studio with one lawsuit if no earthquake occurs Even twenty years ago as a seismology and someone dies in the panic.” professor at Berkeley, Seymour had started to “Goodbye and good luck, Governor.” make predictions based on ELF signals. Looking “So you won’t even let me present the back, there was ELF evidence of a large quake Seymour pulled up his list of phone numbers data.” coming to the San Francisco area, but back on his mobile. He remembered having called then he hadn’t had enough data to support a local news channel nine a few months ago “We can’t. I’m going to have to hang up that finding. Besides, he was just a second-tier to complete an interview on his ELF research. now. Good luck.” researcher then. They’d be interested in a prediction, he thou ght. Seymour put his head in his hands and He said, “Call News Channel Nine.” His gut, though, had said otherwise. Every rubbed his fingers against his closed eyes. non-scientific bone in his body had stiffened. The phone clicked. “Hello, this is Gail Golden Seconds later, he fumbled through his pants The hairs and nerves in his arms felt on fire, at Channel Nine. Why, Dr. Erdbe, I thought we pocket to pull out his keys. He reached down like he’d been bitten by a pack of fire ants. But finished your interview a couple of months with a smallish rounded key and opened the he was a scientist first, an emotional person ago.” bottom right drawer of his desk. second. He didn’t want to be seen as a mad “Gail, I don’t have much time to explain. He reached in and grabbed a photo of his scientist, and even more, he didn’t want to be There’s a twenty percent chance that we’re wife and daughter. It had been his daughter’s wrong. He chose not to say anything to anyone, going to have a 7.0 earthquake or more on the fifth birthday. including his own family and friends. The next morning, his wife took their daughter to the New Madrid Fault in the next 24 hours. The He thought, maybe the governor was local clinic for a chicken pox vaccination, while governor doesn’t want to order an evacuaright. Maybe guilt drove his actions. Maybe he tion or force people to shelters. I’ve got a sick he drove to work. A 7.9 earthquake hit. feeling in my gut. I thought maybe you could should leave decision making to people who “That was a long time ago.”



Seismic Morality by Richard S. Levine knew how to make decisions. Then he remembered the digital photo hanging on the wall to his left showing the San Francisco Bay Bridge busted in pieces, with the city in flames in the background. Memories of crashed cars and bloodied bodies filled his mind. He stood up quickly. Then he slammed his office door open with his right foot and rushed back into the lab. # Seymour looked around. The lab was filled with things: computers, cables, Madrid Fault charts, ELF signal printouts, PhD certifications, and predictions. These things were useless if he just let people die in an earthquake. He walked over to Stan Presley and put his hand on his shoulder. A little startled, Stan looked up and sai d, “Is everything all right?” “No, Stan. But it will be. You need to get out of town, now. In a few hours, you could be a couple of hundred miles away.” “But we don’t know when this quake is going to happen. It could happen while I’m crossing a bridge.” “I realize that. But I’m not positive the shelters around here are going to hold up. One of us needs to get out of here to preserve what we know about ELF and quakes.” Stan folded his arms over his chest. “It’s all online in our publications. If you’re staying, I’m staying.”


Pg. 7 Seymour knew Stan could be stubborn. quake predictions over the university website. Sometimes it was a good trait to have around. Of course, he was supposed to run these thi ngs If Stan hadn’t insisted on using the little known, past the dean, but he couldn’t take the chance but recently invented, Fishbein-Zekman probprob- he’d say no. He had to get his message out. ability distribution in analyzing the ELF waves, Around chest high, he held up the picture they wouldn’t have found the quake patterns of the Bay Bridge in pieces with San Francisco hiding in the data. in flames behind it. “Well, when you say it like that, I guess you’ll He said, “Hello, I’m Dr. Seymour Erdbe of come in handy. How about you continue to the earthquake laboratory at the University of monitor the ELF data? Maybe you can pinpoint the time of the earth quake better. better. Also, update Memphis. To all those in the four state region our blog immediately with our latest predic- of the New Madrid Fault, your governors are tions. Some of our local fans will pick up our probably warning you right now that an earthRSS feed update soon. Spread our prediction quake is coming in the next 24 hours. What they won’t tell you is: there’s a twenty percent around the internet, everywhere you can.” chance that a 7.0 or better is going to occur. “Sure, but what are you planning to do?” We know this based on the research we’ve been doing over a several-year period. If you Seymour looked down at the floor. He don’t go to an earthquake shelter right away, remembered the interview when he was told you could die!” that the lab was specially built. “We’ve got seismic dampers in this bui lding. There’s a good He walked away and tapped Stan on his chance we can ride out this quake, right?” shoulder. “Stan, put the recording up on You Tube and a bunch of other video we bsites too. I “So they say. The dampers reduce building sure hope people listen.” Then he walked back deflection like shock absorbers in a car.” to his office and pulled out the picture of his wife and child again. “Then I’m going to get as many people to come here as possible.” Seymour envisioned an In a whisper, he said, “What should I do alternate timeline where his wife and daughter now?” were proudly standing at his side. “Where’s that internet broadcast setup we have for # emergencies? We’re going to save lives. I’ll be right back.” An hour later, Seymour was still in his office. His head on his desk, he’d fallen asleep. # Still dazed, he looked up to see that only a few people had shown up at the lab. The picture Seymour stood in front of a camera and of his wife and child was still in his hand. His attached equipment the university had given stomach grumbled because he was hungry, him for just this purpose —broadcasting earth- but it was also because he knew he had to try


Seismic Morality by Richard S. Levine again. He walked out to the lab and straight towards the camera. He switched on the equipment and waited about a minute as he held the picture of his wife and child to his chest. He began, “This was my wife and my daughter. I loved them, as I’m sure you love your family. They died because I didn’t warn them about an earthquake coming. I thought people would think I was nuts to predict it. “I’m telling you right now, I was wrong. I’m not going to shut up this time. You’ve got to take your family to an earthquake-safe shelter immediately. Or do you want to feel like me the rest of your lives—knowing that you could have done something and you didn’t?” #

Pg. 8 the destruction. He reported that he, his wife, and son had been safe in the capitol building’s basement shelter. Seymour’s mobile phone rang. “Hello, this is Dr. Erdbe.” “Hi, this is Gail Golden. We’ We’d d like to interview you as soon as possible. You are going to be so famous.” “Gail, I need time. Please call me back tomorrow. I’ll consider your offer then.” As people touched him on the shoulder, seemingly understanding his pain, Seymour walked back to his office and collapsed into his chair. He knew he should be feeling pretty proud. Instead, tears filled his eyes. He held up the picture of his wife and child and said aloud, “You saved li ves today.”

Richard S. Levine Richard S. Levine’s short stories have appeared in “Ray Gun Revival”, “The Fih Di”, “The Maran Wave”, and several other online and printed magazines. His science con short story, “A Comic on Phobos”, was nominated for the 2006 James Award. With his wife Carrie, he lives happily on the beach in Florida and writes. Now, if only the hurricanes would go away. To learn more about Mr. Levine’s wrings and his classic video game, Microsurgeon, please navigate your browser to hp:/ hp://web.tampabay.rr /web.tampabay.rr.com/ .com/ rlevine6/.

Three hours and twenty minutes later, 317 people were inside the safety of the lab at the University of Memphis when the 8.7 earthquake on the New Madrid Fault hit. The lab shook hard at first, but the dampers kicked in quickly. Some of the 317 people screamed. Stan shouted, “Don’t worry, the building will hold.” The shaking continued for two minutes, but no one was injured in the lab. Seymour and Stan spent the next hour calming nerves and journaling experiences. Someone turned on the television. The news already had images of crumbled buildings and horror stories of people crushed under them. The governor was seen giving a speech about how painful it was to see all



Earth Watch, by Neil Carstairs

Pg. 9

Earth Watch by Neil Carstairs COBRA United Kingdom Emergency Management Command

“W

e are still analysing the available data, but for now we can categorically rule out any form of natural phenomenon.”

The speaker paused to search through the paperwork splayed across the table at which he sat. Major Robin Givens took the opportuopportunity to slip into the briefing room, staying in the shadows and positioning himself against the wall. Captain Anne McKay eased in next to him and put her attaché case gently on the floor. From where he stood Robin could see all of the COBRA team, with Prime Minister Duncan Craben at the centre, waiting for the speaker to resume his part of the briefing. “The best information comes from two sources,” Professor Raymond Perrott continued, “firstly, from the astronauts crewing the international space station. Their visual testimonies show the phenomenon occurred simultaneously from six different source locations approximately seventy thousand kilometres above the surface of the earth. Secondly, a number of satellites recorded distortion in the atmosphere falling into the visible light spectrum.” “What does that mean?” the Prime Minister asked. “It means, Sir, that the phenomenon was


natural sunlight, but focussed in such a way that it became incredibly destructive. The best analogy would be to use a magnifying glass to direct sunlight as a spot onto paper and causing the paper to heat up and ignite.” The Prime Minister was silent for a moment, contemplating the three plasma screens relaying news footage of the destruction they were discussing. Information panels at the bottom of each screen showed the location; one shot was of oilrigs burning in the Gulf of Mexico, a second showed the Arabian Gulf swathed in pitch-black smoke, and the third was sourced from an RAF rescue helicopter over the North Sea, searching for any survivors from what had been oil or gas platforms and were now simply burning hulks. Craben asked if anyone had a question. When none were forthcoming he thanked Perrott and called forward Gillian Dawson, Special Advisor to the government on energy policy. Her statement was blunt and bloodchilling. “We are still reviewing the current known damage estimates. We are also getting further information in from the Venezuela oil fields. At this moment in time my findings would suggest a loss in oil production of at least eighty-five per cent for the next fifteen years. Not forgetting those who have already perished in these incidents, the effects to the world economy and social structure are incalculable.” “Is there any chance your figures may be

downgraded?” Prime Minister Craben asked. “Extremely doubtful,” Dawson shook her head. “We know from satellite reconnaissance that the Caucasus and Siberian fields were subject to these attacks, but have no further information to clarify the damage sustained. The dependency we have on fossil fuels has ramifications way beyond simply power or transport supplies.” Craben nodded. “I need a working group set up to report within two hours to recommend strategies for domestic and industrial power production and ways to alleviate the shortfall in energy we are facing.” Secretaries, members of the COBRA committee and the dozen others involved in the briefing, made notes. “Now,” the PM continued, “we turn to security. General Williams?” Brigadier-General Hugh Williams, Army Chief of Staff, looked at the Prime Minister and said, “I have with me Major Robin Givens and Captain Anne McKay. Major Givens is the United Kingdom Liaison Officer for Operation Earth Shield. Captain McKay is his second in command.” The PM’s eyes slid to Robin. “Operation what?” “Earth Shield, Prime Minister,” Robin said, almost apologetically, as he stepped forward into the light.


Earth Watch, by Neil Carstairs “And what, may I ask, is that?” Williams answered on Robin’s behalf. “Major Givens will brief the committee; the documents that will be handed to you are Eyes Only and classified Above Top Secret.”

Pg. 10 may pose a threat to the population of Earth. Operation Earth Shield was designed to at least prepare the separate nations of our world for a unified defence.”

“You can’t use nuclear weapons,” the comment came from a middle-aged woman, whom Robin recognised as the Secretary of State for Health.

“Oh, my God,” Craben had opened Robin’s “We have to,” Robin told her. folder. He spread a series of photographs Anne was already passing out eight slim, across the table. Other members of the team “If I may interrupt,” Brigadier General buff-coloured folders. Williams sat back, gathered round. Robin waited patiently. He Williams spoke up. “Twenty years ago I held this allowing Robin to stand alone and exposed knew the best way to gain the attention and posting for twelve months. The war games we before the Cobra team. He took a breath and belief of his audience was with a sledgeham- ran showed that nuclear is the only option.” started his prepared speech. mer of truth. The Cobra team settled back into “On land as well?” the Secretary of State their chairs. “As background, Operation Earth Shield is challenged them. a United Nations Security Council sponsored “Carry on, Major,” Craben said, his voice “Use of nuclear weapons against the enemy plan to defend our planet from threat or attack weaker than before. once they have landed falls to Nationa l Defence from external sources. It was first proposed an d emplaced by a closed session of the Security “You will see from the briefing documents Commanders, although the Theatre Defence Council in 1954. In the intervening years the that Earth Shield allows the UN full operational Commanders hold the right to take whatever main action plan has been refined to include all control of all National Military Land, Sea and action deemed in the best interest of all.” the latest technological systems and weaponry Air forces as well as access to all civil ian control “What do you mean by Theatre Defence?” to formulate a full defensive strategy. As of systems. I can give you a very quick outline of This question came from the PM. eighteen minutes ago the Council met in close d our strategy from this point on. session at the request of the Secretary General “We have designated six separate opera“Firstly, all ICBM missile bases are currently to initiate the first steps of Earth Shield.” tional areas as Theatre Defence,” Robin replied. having their target designations realigned. “Anvil covers Western and Central Europe. None of the Cobra team had opened the When hard targets are identified as approachHammer is Eastern Europe, Russia and the folders Anne had passed out. They simply sat ing Earth a missile launch will take place to Independent Republics. Scythe encompasses and stared, a couple of them open-mouthed , at intercept the enemy. This first strike will China and Australasia. Scimitar is the Middle Robin as if he had spoken in a foreign language. be nuclear. A second shield of air-launched East and Northern Africa. Spear covers Central The PM finally shook his head in disbelief. nuclear missiles in the upper atmospher atmosphere e will and Southern Africa, and Sword is North and intercept any enemy who gets through. Should “The UN actually believes in little green the threat persist beyond this stage we will South America.” men?” engage with fighter aircraft using conventional “And you expect everyone to work— missiles in the lower atmosphere. We then fight—together?” This came from the Foreign “Yes, Sir,” Robin answered as Anne handed fall back to sea- and land-based air defence Secretary. over another folder from her attaché case. systems before, finally, land-based military “Certain knowledge of the existence of alien units engage th e enemy.” “Yes,”” Robin stated quietly. “Yes, life has existed since 1942. Their actions were always seen as non-threatening until the early Robin could see the dawning horror on the The Prime Minister sighed. “Of all the crises 1950s. It became apparent that more than faces of his audience. that I may have faced this is one that would one life type exists and that the latest visitors never have occurred to me.”




Pg. 11

The door to the briefing room opened and a police officer entered. “There is a large press contingent gathering outside 10 Downing Street.” “The Fourth Estate,” Craben said with an edge of malice in his voice. Robin understood why. The Prime Minister’s short period of office had been punctuated by a series of personal attacks by the tabloid press. “I’ll have to speak to them,” Craben spoke as if to himself. “What do I say?” “Tell them the truth,” Williams said. “Tell them we are facing a grave threat to our social and economic structure. Give me five minutes and we can get a speech written for you.” Robin nodded his agreement. “Captain McKay will do that.” For a moment the committee members sat in silence, until the Deputy Prime Minister said, “This isn’t a role for the military to undertake.” “I’m afraid it is,” the Brigadier General gave a brief, humourless smile in response. “You do not seem to appreciate what Major Givens told you. The United Nations protocol for Operation Earth Shield means full military control of all civil administrative functions for the duration of the emergency. emergency.”” The Prime Minister sat back in his chair, staring at Hugh Williams before turning to look at the plasma screens. His voice was barely audible as he said, “God help us.”


# Staging Post ONMCR Wheel Scrstr High Chancellor trrtxl felt the bite of his acceleration hammock as the wheel ship squeezed through the wormhole and into real-time. For a moment he hung, strapped like a babe in its mother’s pouch, as the craft realigned to its new track and the blessed return of gravity could be felt as the craft revolved on its axis. He took a breath of the pale, recycled air that filled the cabin and called to his routefinder. “Display!” The liquid screen ahead of him melted to a dark schematic, before the external lenses aligned and focussed on the planet below. “Aaah,” trrtxl gave himself the satisfaction of a moment of self-praise. The planet was still viable; the telemetry readings scrolling across his visor condensed a tumult of radiation into a few salient facts. Chancellor trrtxl made a note to congratulate the members of the advance assault team for a job well done. Afterwards, he checked on progress on the rest of the fleet. Five-dozen wheel ships spun down towards the planet, the growing orb filling their vision with its vistas of blue and green enwrapped by a soft cloak of white and cancerous patches of black. As his hammock rocked him, trrtxl spared a glance at the mrgur hanging on its perch beside him. The creature had been a companion since trrtxl’s fleet had successfully founded a staging post seventy-two cycles ago. With something

approaching a smile trrtxl fed the dark-eyed animal a titbit of crustacean, listening to the crackle-crunch of shell as the mrgur ate with swift bites. “Separation in five cycles,” sang a technician. Chancellor trrtxl forgot his pet, concentrating now on the wheel ships as they began to divide and then sub-divide. The hub became six separate craft, each of the twelve spokes of the wheel became a dozen, and each arch of rim between a spoke became twenty-four craft until the fleet numbered greater that twentysix thousand. They formed a swarm as they fell towards the planet below. #

VIPER

United Kingdom Joint Strike Command Headquarters “Sword confirms targets acquired.” Robin looked at the tactical display screens as they lit up with the tiny red “V” shapes of the traces designated hostile. Ninety hours had passed since the oil fields had been scorched from the face of the earth and now, in the cool, subdued light of the command centre, the world was about to discover if Operation Earth Watch could come anywhere near justifying its existence. “Vampires number 24,000 plus,” a Royal Air Force technician reported from his console.


Earth Watch, by Neil Carstairs Robin smiled at the callsign given to the incoming craft. The screens were awash with red tracks, falling over the North Pole like a curtain over the stage of a theatre. On his screen a message scrolled across from Central Command.

Pg. 12 arrays,” came back the report. “How long?” “Nine par-cycles, My Lord.”

# VIPER

United Kingdom Joint Strike Command Headquarters

A grimace formed on trrtxl’s ridged face. With a single touch of his hand pad he Robin watched the second wave of nuclear “CenCom authorises ICBM launch,” he commanded all armada craft to increase missiles detonate with detachment. The enemy reported. His words brought a momentary their separation. Not a moment too soon, he came on like a stampede, uncaring of casualties. silence to the room. Anne looked up from her realised. The objects coming towards him Robin knew this was caused, at least in part, console. began to fragment, the upper bodies disgorg- by their commitment to their course. Gravity ing multiple clusters that hung in space as the was sucking the ships in and there was little he “Space Station has visual images.” chancellor’s craft rushed perilously close to could do about that. “Show them,” Robin felt his breath le ave his them. body as the relayed image flickered across a “Sword reports vampires down to eighteen The warheads detonated in a random thousand.” plasma screen. At first they were only pinpri cks of light crawling across the black backdrop of pattern of nuclear blasts. Light and heat and Robin bit his lip. It was still too many. space. The sheer number of them frightened a storm of radioactive particles assaulted the armada craft. The outer shields of the wheel him. The tracks of the vampires were spilling segments began to quiver. Chancellor trrtxl He looked down at his hands and saw they saw the first trace disappear from his screen. across the globe, circling like so many vultures were trembling. He heard the brief, plaintive screech of the around a corpse. An RAF lieutenant said, commander, followed in a double heartbeat by “Vampire flight southbound over Iceland.” the sound of dozens more as the ICBMs took # Robin stood and walked to the lieutenant’s their toll on the armada. console. He could see the line of RAF jets north Staging Post ONMCR The chancellor waited to die, and then of the UK waiting for the enemy to close. With found his craft was through the hail of missile a flick of a switch Robin put the lieutenant’s Wheel Segment Trwq warheads and scraping the upper atmosphere communications over the loudspeaker. “The dominant species are reacting to our of the planet. He queried the displays and felt “Tally Ho. Tally Ho.” presence.” a surge of relief at only losing three thousand craft. The voices of the fighter pilots spilled from Chancellor trrtxl had allowed his thoughts the speaker as they engaged the vampires. to drift away from the task in hand. The voice “External arrays configured.” The words Robin watched the radar screens as missiles of a specialist focussed him onto the planet. filled his ear channels. drew dotted links. Bright blobs glowed and Expanding his display, he watched the objects faded on the screens. “Prepare to emanate,” trrtxl commanded as rising up from the planet’s atmosphere. The chancellor placed an enquiry to the sub-officer he registered the horde of flying vehicles that “Vampire down,” an operator reported. milled around in the planet’s atmosphere. He responsible for defence systems. saw more objects appear, smaller missiles that The RAF jets were still closing. Robin held “We are still reconfiguring the external closed in towards his ships. his breath as a calm voice said, “Victor Six-Six



Earth Watch, by Neil Carstairs has visual. Engaging with guns.” The screen began to change, RAF jets disappearing, the vampires coming onward. “HMS Rhapsody reports contact,” came another cool, detached report as if this was an everyday occurrence. Robin could picture the scene—a cold, grey Atlantic dawn split by the bright bloom of launch as the Royal Navy ship fired surface to air missiles. “Vampire down.” Robin almost laughed at the report. Only one? #

Pg. 13 spraying back to fill his nostrils and eyes. Chancellor trrtxl tugged at the helmet and threw it off. The command centre was in chaos. All of his companions were ill in some way. The pilot’s hands slipped off the control column. The smooth flight of the wheel segment became a powerful series of turns as the craft began to spin out of control. The strands of the hammock bit into trrtxl’s flesh, scoring the yellow hide with brutal heat. The chancellor felt the pain in his head dissipate. His eyes took in the chaos of vomit and disoriented flight crew. Beside him the mrgur mewled in discomfort, its sleek fur thick with globules of puke. The Chancellor queried his defence staff. “It is the enemy, Lord. Something struck us. We are analysing.”

Staging Post ONMCR

“Be quick,” trrtxl snarled.

Wheel Segment Trwq

And then it happened again.

Chancellor trrtx l was most satisfied with the current situation. The toll on his armada had been greater than expected, but no t so great as to cause him any amount of concern. The lo sses would be felt amongst the families and clans of those who perished, but the greater good of his kind would benefit from their sacrifice. He fed another titbit to his mrgur and was about to remark to his navigator-technician on the vain fight the planet’s dominant species were putting up when…

Chancellor trrtxl wouldn’t have believed his stomach could carry so much. Liquid and solid matter flew above and around him. He heard the distressed shouts of the wheel segment crew. Again they lost control, turning over twice as sirens wailed out a warning. The pilot fought them back into level flight, gaining altitude for some sort of security even as the defence staff admitted once again they had no idea what was causing the sickness. The craft entered thick cloud. Chancellor trrtxl saw the grey-white moisture as a place of sanctuary His stomach churned violently. A pain, and commanded his pilot to stay within it as searing like a hot iron, burned behind his eyes. much as possible. The chancellor felt bile fill his throat. He tried to swallow before he vomited violently into his # helmet. Yellow puke spattered across his visor,


VIPER

United Kingdom Joint Strike Command Headquarters “What’s happening to them?” Robin voiced the same question being posed in dozens of command and control centres across the world. The swarm of vampires had suddenly become a spiralling mass of falling objects. Some collided; others simply plunged out of control. Hundreds had been lost in a matter of seconds. Flights of fighter jets from Western Europe formed a curtain across the path of the vampires and had seized the opportunity to launch their attack. “Any answers?” Robin posed the question to his team. All he got in response were shakes of the head. “Maybe the radiation from the nukes got to them?” said an army Staff Sergeant. Reviews of the incidents played across screens again and again, as analysts and computers processing every available piece of data in an effort to identify the cause. Robin went to stand beside Anne; her console was running links with other theatre command centres. He watched for a moment, glad to find that at least the vampires had still to make any kind of landfall. “I’ve got it!” Robin and Anne looked up. An Air Force lieutenant, her heels clicking on the tile floor, ran to them. “Look. The disturbance coincides with this sweep of radar.” The scene ran once more, the lieutenant


Earth Watch, by Neil Carstairs grinning as she said. “There’s a meteorological station in the Azores, and that is its weather radar we can see.”

Pg. 14 Its narrow beam, an almost continuous pulse of radio waves, drove them down into the sea. The command centre erupted in euphoria. #

“Are you sure?” Robin wanted her to be, but why just this one radar?

misjudged its timing and plunged past them. It splashed into the ground, a fierce fireball erupting from the landscape. Chancellor trrtxl ordered the six hundred and twelve wheel segments still with him to centre on his craft; he gave them a radius and a landing pattern in the moments before they hit the ground a fraction too hard.

Staging Post ONMCR

“I can patch us into the station control,” the Staff Sergeant said, “and fix the radar to a single beam as a confirmation.”

The segment crumpled, its frame shattering with a cataclysmic roar that momentarily deafened trrtxl. His hammock broke free and Chancellor trrtxl was in communication he slammed into the back of his pilot, crushing Robin looked at the spill of “V” symbols with his armada when all hell broke loose. He his kinsman to death against the flight display. that still filled the screen. There was one group closed the link, but not before the horrendous Chancellor trrtxl struggled against the bonds of fifty or more circling out in the mid-Atlantic, death screams of his kin pierced his mind like of his hammock as part of the segment shell as if uncertain of which course to take. the sting of a strictic beetle. With his skin peeled away. The world outside was, indeed, crawling at the memory of the sound, he heard white. It was also intensely cold. The chancellor “Can you zero on them?” Robin asked. his defence team communicate. gasped at the touch of air to skin, reeling away “Consider it done.” from the burst of snow that filled the cabin. He “We know.” struggled to remain upright, feeling his body “What’s different about this radar?” Robin They ran the data up to him. The chancel- begin to adjust to the temperature and gaining asked the lieutenant. lor gaped in mounting horror at what they told some crumb of comfort from the fact that he “It could be as simp le as a specific freq uency, uency,”” him. He looked at his wheel segment’s opera- wasn’t seriously injured. she said. “All radars, whether civil or military, tional status. They weren’t going to have time Now all he had to do was organise his are given certain bands to operate in. This one to get back out of the atmosphere. His decision surviving kind and conquer this world. is set to 3005.22 megahertz.” was simple. “Ready for the test,” the Staff Sergeant typed the final command into his keyboard. “Hit them.” Robin ordered. Silence came to the command centre. Everyone was focussed on the single display and the flight of enemy craft. For a moment Robin thought they had failed and that the lieutenant had been wrong.

Wheel Segment Trwq

“Take us down,” he snapped at the pilot.

#

“Down?” “Now!” trrtxl screamed with a throat still sore from the effects of puke.

VIPER

United Kingdom Joint Strike Command They came out of the cloud. The world Headquarters below them was white, threaded by strands of grey. The scene canted as the pilot searched the “Where are they?” Robin asked as more and topography for a safe landing zone. The descent more of the remaining vampires over Eastern And then he knew she was right. was fast, the pilot firing the braking rockets as Europe disappeared from the radar screens. late as possible. One of their companion craft The radar blasted the aliens from the sky. “Russia,” an RAF technician supplied the




Pg. 15

answer, “approximately one hundred kilome“Does he know how many of them there tres south of Kirov.” are?” “Get a map up on screen.” Robin was still standing beside Anne. She had a full screen map of the Hammer theatre and windowed quickly in on the area in question. Robin grimaced. It was a long way from any field units. “Offer Hammer all possible assistance,” he told Anne. “Major?” the staff sergeant spoke in a way that made Robin’s flesh crawl with foreboding. “Look at them.” The plasma screens showed an outline map of the world against which the “V” symbols of the invaders glowed red. Now, ominously, those that remained in the air were focussing their flight paths onto the Kirov Oblast sector of Russia. “How many are still airborne.” “Several thou sand, si r.” “We need every possible ground and air radar to be set to the frequency of the Azores met station,” Robin spoke swiftly. “I need FLASH messages sent to all Theatre commanders informing them of what we know.”

“He doesn’t care,” Anne said quietly. “Tank and Infantry divisions were already entrained for such an eventuality. They are mobilising to the area as we speak.” Robin was watching the radar. The few remaining green squares representing friendly air assets over Western Europe were chasing hard to form some sort of shield against the vampires coming across the Atlantic and up from Africa. Robin noticed four assets out between Greenland, Iceland and the UK. “Who are they,” he asked the RAF liaison officer. “Nimrod early warning aircraft,” the wing commander told him. “Then we can use them?” “They have no defensive capability, and the units assigned to protect them were sucked into the air battle over Scotland. If they show themselves, then we may lose them.”

“We have no choice,” Robin was already gauging the relative positions of the Nimrods and the thousands of vampires coming across the ocean. “Two will go to their highest Sitting beside him Anne was talking in operational ceiling; the others will fly as low fluent Russian. Robin waited with an edge of as weather conditions allow. Set their radar impatience until she broke the link and looked to 3005.22 megahertz and initiate on my up at him, her face pale. command.” “The Hammer supreme commander has announced that the invaders will be driven from Russian soil. They will not use nuclear weapons, but force of arms.”


“Major, I…” “That is a direct order, Wing Commander,” Robin snapped back quickly. “I am officer in charge of UK sector for Operation Earth Shield.

Remember that.” The wing commander bit back his protest and turned to his console; within a minute he said, “Nimrods ready for your instruction, Major.” Robin felt a nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach. The red vampire symbols were growing in number, spilling down across the Pole again and flooding east across the Atlantic. The crews of the aircraft were between a rock and a hard place. “Fire the radar—full power—now.” #

Staging Post ONMCR Wheel Segment Trwq Chancellor trrtxl found that, after the seventh or eighth day-night cycle on this planet, he was becoming immune to the searing pulse s of radio waves his enemy constantly rained in on his force. The pain behind his eyes was now just a dull ache, his stomach no longer turned over, and vomit did not scorch his throat as in the early hours of the invasion. He supposed this was some sort of blessing. Instead, he had to put up with cruise missile strikes, artillery barrages and low-flying aircraft dropping high explosives or cluster munitions across his battered kinsmen. In the cold dawn he peered out from the shelter dug beneath the twisted remains of a wheel segment and wondered, again, if this would be the last time he would see the sun rise. Not that he could see the sun. Low cloud, a seemingly constant companion



Pg. 16

in this world, filtered the light down to a stark grey landscape.

experience had taught him better. Within “Our lines have been breached. They are seconds of the artillery ending, aircraft amongst us.” screamed low across his horizon. Cluster bombs The whistle of incoming shells made him spilled multiple munitions in a carpet of death, Chancellor trrtxl knew as much. The harsh slither back under cover. The barrage brought tearing at an already fragmented ground and bursts of the enemy weap ons had grown closer, the furies of hell down onto his enclave. The leaving unexploded ordnance behind to maim coming at him from all sides. He let ou t a sigh as chancellor huddled, alone with his thoughts, or kill the unwary. As the sound of ae ro engines he pulled his heavy frame out from under the listening to the shell bursts and constant rattle faded the chancellor could hear his warrior twisted wreck of the wheel segment. Standing of shrapnel. This would be the precursor to commanders singing their instructions and in the cold air trrtxl made a decision and slid another ground assault. If anything gave trrtxl above them, in a soul sapping counterpoint, out of his body armour, stretching to ease his a modicum of satisfaction it was the cost his the growl of power units and rattle of tracks aching muscles. From his shelter qm called. kin had inflicted upon the enemy. The land was that told him the enemy were coming. “I have the Proclamation prepared.” littered with the burning hulks of the tracked vehicles that led each attack and the torn Navigator-technician qm was still where The chancellor was distracted as he made corpses of the enemy who had thrown them- trrtxl had left him, peering out across the snow his sidearm ready. Before he could say another selves forward in near suicidal waves. and earth landscape with a weary resignation. word to qm his vision was filled with the dark The youngster had been one of the early casuThe balance sheet was, however, tipping in alties of the battle, wounded in all legs, and mass of an enemy machine. It leapt up into the his enemy’s favour. Chancellor trrtxl admitted trrtxl had taken him as his communicator. Now air as if using the torn ground and wreckage of qm’s shelter as a springboard. The tank hung to himself his errors. He should have continued the chancellor called out to his assistant. suspended for a beat of trrtxl’s double heart, the first attack and used it against population in imitation of a bird taking to wing. Chancellor centres and not just energy production points. “What can you tell me?” trrtxl could see qm in its shadow, gazing at him His advance assault team had recommended “The enemy press us from all sides, my and unaware of the danger. Then the tank came such a course of action and he had ignored Lord. Warrior grfth fears his defence line will to earth with a bone-shaking thump, engulfing engulfing them. Chancellor trrtxl flinched as a shell burst be breached soon.” the metalwork that protected the navigatorparticularly close. The segment above him technician and crushing poor qm into the alien moved ominously as a hollow boom reverber“Prepare to issue a Proclamation of Defeat,” soil. ated through his head. The chancellor’s second trrtxl could feel the ground begin to tremble as error, and in his mind worse, was ordering his the enemy horde closed in. Chancellor trrtxl drew himself to his full fleet to rally to him when he made landfall. He height. He used the momentary pause of the had no idea how many segments had been lost Even from the distance of thirty paces tank to extend his spine comb and fully inflate trying to reach him. Many, many thousands trrtxl could see the look of shock upon qm’s his neck bladders. They expanded, a deep had acknowledged his instruction, but fewer features. crimson to accentuate his wide skull, a sign than two thousand had reached him. of his masculinity. Chancellor trrtxl raised his “My Lord, you cannot do such a thing. Now his kin had been driven back from their Think of the dishonour it will bring to clan and sidearm. original perimeter. The survivors squeezed into family.” The tank’s machine gun opened fire, a small pocket, on a rise in the terrain, east of a swatting trrtxl to one side. The tank moved wide river. The artillery barrage eased away to “Follow my command,” trrtxl could taste forward, spraying snow and dirt from its tracks, a frightening silence. Chancellor trrtxl thought the ugly aroma of burnt fuel on the air. His past the chancellor’s body as shock infantry about crawling out from his shelter into the communicator paused for a moment before he troops followed in its wake, stumbling over the churned snow and earth of his enclave. Bitter sang out. churned ground. One man fi red a dozen rounds



Earth Watch, by Neil Carstairs into trrtxl’s corpse, two more threw grenades into the cavity that the chancellor had used for safety. Then they ran after their comrades and the tank, further into the enclave, to face the last remnants of the invaders. #

Pg. 17

Neil Carstairs Neil Carstairs lives in Worcester, England, with his wife and two young children. He writes as the mood (and very occasionally the inspiraon) takes him.

VIPER

United Kingdom Joint Strike Command Headquarters The January day was cold and bright. Robin stared up at the sky. He took a breath of air. There was a faint, distasteful tang to it. The oil fields still burned and pollution was becoming the second topic on news programmes after the invasion. The common question on all lips was “what happens next?” Robin had no idea, and neither did Anne McKay, who stood next to him with her everpresent attaché case at the ready. The best guess Robin had was a furious struggle between civil administrations to keep their countries in order and the UN-backed military governors. It was the people in the middle Robin felt sorry for. The population of the Earth living with minimal heat and light, strictly rationed food, falling health care standards, and the still-present threat of another attempt at invasion. Their car pulled up, the driver waiting for them to get in before asking, “Where to, Sir?”



Featured Arst: Yun Ling

Pg. 18

Featured Arst Yun Ling Name: Yun Ling Age: 25 Country of residence: China Hobbies: Traveling, reading Manga Favorite Arst: Craig Mullins, William X. Chen, aka ‘wassup’ When did you start creang art? When I was 21 and a student in the university What media do you work in? Mostly in digital Where should someone go if they wanted to view/buy some of your works? Visit my site http://lingy http://lingy-0.com -0.com, or my DA gallery http://lingy-0.deviantart.com How did you become an arst? Step by step, normally. At rst, I found it amusing, and then I could not stop. What inspired the art for the cover? I think it’s a Starcra® space marine. I just found the shape when I was scribbling. Where do you get your inspiraon/what inspires inspires you? Great arsts/movies/books/comics arsts/movies/book s/comics and nature, of course. I like to see many interesng things. Have you had any notable failures, and how has failure aected your work? Ray Gun Revival magazine



Pg. 19

What have been your greatest successes? How has success impacted you/your work? I’ve had lots of failures; I never feel successful. successful. I just fail and keep working. What are your favorite tools/equipment for producing your art? Photoshop and Wacom Tablet, white paper and a 0.5mm mechanical pencil What tool/equipment tool/equipment do you wish you had? Wacom Cinq Tablet What do you hope to accomplish with your art? Realism




Pg. 20



The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook

The Adventures of the Sky Pirate

Pg. 21

Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook After a bravura exhibition of subtle machination, Flynn had established the upper hand Cooper Flynn ‘acquired’ a holy man to see to in a war of wills with the cleric apparent only the needs of the crew, but found the one man to the two of them. The assassin’s real crime with as great a force of personality as himself. was more subtle. All the ground Flynn had Cleric Mathen Vaneras didn’t take kindly to gained had been undone by the cleric with one being kidnapped, and embarked on a clandes- inexplicable, selfless act, and now everyone tine war of wills with Flynn, winning over the knew Flynn was in the holy man’s debt. His affections of the crew. competitive nature was so strong that the thought unsettled him more than the attempt And then an assassin attacked Flynn, and on his life. Vaneras, ever thinking, saved Flynn’s life. Flynn sipped his kava and reflected that Flynn suspects a scheme, and he may be right. there were now two people he’d completely misjudged, Cleric Mantha Vaneras and Agent Part One – A Most Delicious Most Delicious Agony Harl Uioge. It rattled rattled his self-confidence , and ooper Flynn’s demeanor was remarkably among a group like this, one would sooner lose composed considering he had just been his knife hand than his swagger. spared from an assassin’s axe. In his time, With an effort of will, Flynn refocused on Flynn had tangled with—and dispatched— the ongoing conversation taking place around better assassins himself. However, his savior him. Agent Harl Uioge was the center of their this time, cleric Mathen Vaneras, was the last man he’d have expected help from on the ship, attention as they relaxed, enjoying the cleric’s and the sudden change of fortune was vexing biscuits and kava. Now that he was no longer under cover, the dour man with a black attit ude him with a most delicious agony. known to them as crewman Rand was revealed No one would be the wiser to look at him to be a keenly intelligent man with an en gaging at the moment, reclining easily in the galley of demeanor, a completely different person. the airship Alacrity with members of the crew. Thinking along those lines, Flynn raised He had a mug of kava in his left hand, his right his mug to Her Majesty’s agent. “Harl, I hope boot perched cavalierly on nearby bench, and a lazy smile on his face as they revisited the you don’t mind that my opinion of you is much story again and again. However, Flynn wasn’t improved now that you are no longer crewman listening to the legend, already growing in the Rand.” telling. The thought consuming him was far far Harl Uioge chuckled. “No offense taken. I’m different. pleased my persona was effective in masquerThe story so far:

C


ading my true purpose here. As the brooding Rand, I drew so much attention to myself that nobody thought to check my cover story.” “So when the Grenville sailors came onboard, we got both an assassin and a spy?” Flynn gestured toward the agent. “What are the chances of that ?” ?” Harl said, “Pretty good, as it happens. I’ve been onto Aefther for about three months now and had worked my way aboard the Grenville with the full knowledge of Captain Argen. I was briefly worried he’d elude me when you showed up, but Captain Argen knew what he was doing. Putting Aefther into the crew coming to Alacrity killed two birds with one stone as far as Captain Argen was concerned.” Flynn snorted. “I’ll have to thank him for his foresight when I see him again,” he said dryly. Harl laughed. “Captain Argen isn’t a bad man once you get to know him; he’s just laced a little straight. He’s a great sort of man to have out in the world out on the front lines of combat. Your perspective is perforce a little more relaxed when you’re up here in the clouds.” The cleric came over and sat down. He nodded at Harl. “Excellent work. You said you were ‘onto’ ‘onto’ Aefther. Aefther. Who was he after initially?” Harl nodded at the question. “His true target was the admiral of the fleet. That’s what


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook initially roused our attention. Captain Argen was on his way to meet the admiral at long last after a long winter and short spring. I was assigned to keep an eye on him and secured a place on the Grenville with Captain Argen’s full knowledge. Aefther ’s apparently sunny persona was well liked onboard the Grenville , so I took the opposite approach. I’ve discovered if you paint yourself in a certain way, people make certain assumptions about you. In this case, being sullen and brooding kept chatty people away and allowed me to keep an eye on the assassin. Aefther hadn’t done anything to tip his hand when your airship showed up and spoiled his ultimate plans. I think he watched the democratic airs displayed by your crew and assumed he could win control of the airship if you were out of the picture.” Cleric Vaneras wryly said “Admiral, eh?” He looked at Flynn. “You should be honored he came after you.” Flynn was staring at his mug. He looked up at the cleric and snorted. “I’m not that honored—they only sent the one assassin.” The cleric smiled gracefully. Bastard . Flynn said, “So, Agent Harl Uioge, what would you like us to do with you now that you’ve bagged your man?” Harl thought a moment. “You’re still planning on meeting up with the others at Roarke’s Island in a couple weeks?” “Yes. We need additional crew, crew, not to mention some deserved liberty.” Harl said, “I’ll stick with the ship, then, and disembark there if that’s agreeable with you.”


Flynn nodded. “Very well. Do so. Thank you again for saving my life.” life.” Flynn gestured carelessly to the cleric. “And Cleric Vaneras, Vaneras, as well.” The cleric’s smile turned thoughtful, and then he only grinned the wider. Flynn kept the grimace from his face with an effort. He turned to Mr. Mr. Pitt. “Would you ask Eggplant to bring some of his charts and meet us down here?” “Yes, Captain.” “Harl, while I have you here, d o you have an idea what you’re going to do in the two weeks between now and then?” “The vaguest of ideas, but, yes, I have something in the back of my head.” They enjoyed the cleric’s thick kava and thicker biscuits until Eggplant showed up with an armful of charts. “Ah, Eggplant—feel free to spread those out here on the tables as necessary. Here’s what I’m looking for—at the moment, we have the complete mastery of the skies but are running a bit light on crew to mount extensive actions. We have the fastest fastest ship in the skies and hold the vertical element. Since we’re a bit light on personnel, what can we do that would strike hard at the heart of the enemy without opening us up to much risk? And it occurred to me that we could do the sort of island raids the enemy has been doing. Instead of raping and pillaging as they do, we could wreak havoc on their ports from above, firing on any ships/ docks they have there, and then return to Roarke’s Island in time to make our connec-

Pg. 22 tion.” “That’s “That ’s an interesting idea. The nearest such port is at Zem pher, a very attractive target for this type of sortie. However, they have tall cliffs and their emplaced guns are infamous.” “They’re facing the sea and again only have so much vertical elevation. I propose to avoid the emplaced guns by coming in high and fast before they can draw a bead on us. We can finally use some of our broadside guns to hammer at the port-bound ships and dry-dock pens. We can take our time raking raking broadside after broadside into the port-bound ships and emplacements without any real threat to ourselves or to the populace at-large. The raids will provide a huge boost to our morale and a blow against their sense of invulnerability. We will take the war to them and the word will get out that Alacrity is a force to be reckoned with. It will be months or years before they have an answer for our air-borne dynamic. How’s that for an idea?” “We’re going to need to get in some practice on those guns, then,” observed Mr. Pitt. Starting the next day, they practiced hard, learning to quickly load and fire the 8 pound cannons, getting a feel for where cannonballs would strike when fired from 100 feet and 250 feet altitude. As he watched the crew practicing at the cannons and chewed over the latest twist in his clandestine struggle with the cleric, a morose Flynn reflected that he’d take a good, fair fight any day. And then a sly smile spread across his face as he set aside any pretension to nobility and


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook began to really scheme in earnest. # The day dawned with Alacrity under full sail, making great speed north and east toward the gently curving chain of islands extended out in a wide bow between Haddirron and Sylva. Roarke’s Island was the northern-most of the Haddirron isles and Lebson was the southernmost of theSylvan islands. In between lay all the loosely organized dot s of the Free Isles, independent communities that traded with both powers, depending on the goods required and the varying tradewinds, a word referring less to prevailing breezes and more to the vagaries of constantly undulating trade agreements. As a result, Free Islanders, like Reachers, were typically very smart, fiercely independent, and very funny, humor being their preferred and primary buffer between violence and commerce, and their insurance policy that their docks and bazaars saw brisk business in unsettled times. The crew used the next days to discuss strategies of all sorts, from the upcoming cliffraids on the coastal villages and ports to the invariable pitched battles with well-armed ships of the line. The captain continued to build community among his sailors, promising them opportunities to distinguish themselves and advance in responsibility and rank, as well as the further opportunity for personal wealth as a result of being privateers for Her Majesty. They were good days, balancing focused bustle and moments of play and quiet. There were deck games and marksmanship competitions for both smaller weapons and cannon,


everything serving to improve morale and tighten necessary shipboard knowledge. Above and behind it all was the unspoken purpose of improving skills vital to the sailors individually and to the ship corporately in the combat certain to come. The captain was very busy with all this activity and tasked Mr. Pitt as the dedicated liaison with Dr Dr.. Prentiss. Prentiss. For himself, Flynn made sure he spent some portion of each day with the clerichimself under the pretext of learning how to cook. Both relationships were rocky in the early going, although the former was overt while the latter couldn’t have appeared more civil. “What happens if one of our boarding parties has wounded?,” asked Deena Prentiss of Mr. Pitt. “You stay on board and we bring the wounded to you.,” rumbled Mr. Pitt. Deena said, “But what if they are too wounded to be moved?” “We’ll have to bring them back with us regardless of what happens.” Deena turned away under the pretense of organizing tools she’d already organized twenty times, fooling no one. “That makes no sense, especially if I am better able to meet their needs by going to them.” Mr. Pitt crossed his massive arms over his chest. “All I know is, you shouldn’t leave the ship under any circumstances.” Deena whirled around, some of her hair escaping a business-like bun. “So, what, am I

Pg. 23 prisoner here?” “No,” grated Mr. Pitt, the single syllable as flat as a pistol shot. “Really? Becausethat ’s how it appears from here.,” she replied hotly. The discussions rankled Mr. Mr. Pitt. He could snap a man’s back like a twig and yet he had to bear up quietly under these such emotional indignities. Worse, he still cared fiercely for her, but she wasn’t cooperating with him in the slightest. Even worse was how passionate she was in her anger. anger. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shake her or embrace her. So he held his ground and kept his arms crossed. He kept kept his façade carefully neutral lest his face face betray his heart. “It’s really less about what you’re ‘allowed’ to do and what’s safest for you.” She was having none of it. “It sounds to me like it’s less about what’s safest for me and is about power for you!” Pitt rolled his eyes. “Male doctors don’t give me this kind of trouble,” he muttered under his breath. It was the wrong thing to say say out loud, and he knew it as soon as the words escaped his lips. She stomped forward and stared up at him with white fury, her pretty face angled up at him as she used to when they’d kiss, two months and an entire lifetime ago. “What was that?! Horatio, tell me this isn’t about my sex!” Pitt carefully grabbed her shoulders. “I don’t know what it’s about! I never do with women!” Her scent was intoxicating, but


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook her fury equally palpable. She was a walking enigma, far too complex for a simple man like himself. “I just know that the doctor rarely leaves ship by long-standing tradition, which every true sailor understands.” And then he said something petty before he could stop himself, a morsel of truth torn off his soul by need and conflict. “Besides, I know very little about your sex, and you know it!” “ ‘Rarely!’ ” she shouted, coloring prettily even as she ignored the unspoken subtext. “So it might happen?” “Yes, ‘rarely,’ “ he growled in return, “because there are no hard-and-fast rules about when to go against the prevailing wisdom.” His voice raised of its own accord despite his best efforts. “You just know when something unexpected comes up!” he shouted, and then his own cheeks reddened. Once again he regretted his choice of words as soon as he uttered them. She harrumphed as if her utterance was somehow meaningful, turned on her heel, and stalked out of the room. “And I don’t know why we’re shouting!” Pitt yelled after her, but she was already gone. He kept walking around the railing, lost in thought, needing to do something, anything, to work off his emotional turmoil. This woman made him feel less like a tactical genius and more like an unyoked unyoked ox. He felt like breaking something, and Cyl help the first enemy to cross his path. But he held his tongue and his thoughts to himself with an effort of will. Not for for the first time, he found himself looking forward to


carnage, pretty much any carnage, and then was privately embarrassed. How such a slim, well-spoken woman could bring out the beast in him was beyond him, especially when he prided himself on his intellect and self-control, the ability to consciously counteract his tremendous strength and imposing physicality. From the first, the captain had seen him as a quiet man of keen intellect, as dependable as a rock, not as a hulk. Yet, despite being married, she saw him as a bull—brainless, insensitive, stupid, hulking—or so it appeared. It just made no sense. He still didn’t know what had happened to cause their separation. One week, they were together and in love, newly married and loving life. The next, she’d she’d chosen the service instead of him, while he’d remained loyal to one whom he’d betrayed once already. Mr.. Pitt set his jaw. One thing was certain— Mr he’d never betray Flynn again, even if it meant losing the only woman he’d ever loved. Even if he could still feel her skin under his hands, and smell her scent everywhere he went. # They were approaching the tiny coastal village of Yulni Straits when Mr. Yhen blew his whistle. Flynn got there just before before Mr. Mr. Pitt. “What is it?” “Captain, you’re not going to believe this,” said the stoic and dependable Mr. Mr. Yhen. He gestured ahead of him, not down toward the upcoming island, but straight ahead, 200 feet in the air air..

Pg. 24 There, suspended crazily in mid-air, drifting down toward the port was another airship. In an entire lifetime of scheming, working the angles, and guarding secrets, Flynn had never been more stunned. They all gathered at the rail, looking and pointing as they made their own descent. “It’s one of ours, Captain,” said Mr. Yhen peering through the glass, further adding to what was easily the weirdest moment of Flynn’s life to-date. The blood was boiling in Flynn’s head as he strolled up. “What do you mean ‘one of ours’? There is only one of us. We are unique. There is precisely one copy of the working formula, and I carry it on my person. Alacrity is one-ofa-kind.” Mr. Yhen was unflappable as always. Patiently, he said, “Ayuh. “Ayuh. Yet what I see suspended in midair, Captain, is another airship of Haddirron design, flying Haddirron colors.” Flynn’s voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. “That “That’s ’s not possible.” Mr. Yhen silently handed over the looking glass, his eyes not unsympathetic. Flynn’s eyes confirmed what Mr. Yhen said. As Flynn looked, Mr. Yhen said, “She’s a little smaller than we are, maybe three quarters the size of Alacrity . She’s trimmed right up and moving naturally. And based on what I saw of her maneuvering, I’d say they’re nearly as comfortable aboard her there as we are here.”


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook Flynn slammed the telescoping glass shut and handed it back to Mr Mr.. Yhen. He turned to Mr.. Pitt. “Get Chain up here on the double,” Mr he snapped, unable to control his demeanor. A storm raged raged on his face. Flynn wanted to kill someone. The question was, who? Flynn turned and saw cleric Vaneras there, a thoughtful expression on his face. Flynn whirled around again, unable to handle the holy man just then. The question filled his mind until it was all he could think about: how did they get his secret formula? # After looking the interloper over through the looking glass, Chain confirmed what they all already knew. In conference with Mr. Mr. Pitt and Flynn, he ticked off all they knew on this fingers. “The facts are these: there is no way there can be another Haddirron airship, yet that, gentlemen, is another Haddirron airship.” Flynn paced back and forth, the facts warring with the reality he thought he knew in his mind. “So despite our best efforts, our carefully-guarded technology has somehow leaked out.” Mr. Pitt asked, “How is that possible?” “That ’s the thing,” said Chain. “It’s not.” “What about the auditor ?” ?” asked Bola, flipping her knife. Chain and the captai n looked at each othe r. “The auditor?” said Chain. Mr. Pitt said “Who?”


Flynn shook his head slowly. “Good thought, Bola. However, while there may be more to Her Majesty’s Auditor Welston Dananstrogh than meets the eye, this turnaround is too fast even for him.” Bola said, “What are you saying?” Chain mused, “Yes, that would be farfetched, but technically possible?” “What would,” asked Bola, losing her patience. Flynn said, “If we didn’t give the formula to anybody, and they had it shortly after we developed it—I’m assuming that because this other ship couldn’t have been developed long after Alacrity was… well, it seems there is another player out therethat we don’t know about, and they are formidable.” Chain’s eyes got big. Flynn said, “If you think about it, this technology was given to me, and I gave it to Chain. What if it’s not that our technology was stolen from us. What if the same party who ensured I got the formula gave it out to the Haddirron Navy when I didn’t share it with them myself? If that’s the case, and somebody else really is responsible for this, that would mean that their technology is better than ours, and that their resources are out of this world.” Flynn looked at Mr Mr.. Yhen. “This other airship. What about her crew? Larger than ours? Smaller?” Mr. Yhen scanned the upcoming airship and said, “I see maybe fifteen on board ready to tend sails and such, hard to say how many

Pg. 25 more below. Yeah, their pilot knows what he’s doing, bringing her right down into port.” Flynn paced, thinking. “Oh!” Mr. Yhen exclaimed, and looked again. Then he blinked and held out the spyglass to Flynn. “I think you’d you’d better see the last revelation for yourself, Captain.” Flynn took the glass. “See what?” he said, scanning the deck, tracking slowly bow to stern, then stopping suddenly and backtracking. “What the...” Mr.. Yhen smiled. “If I didn’t know better, Mr better, I’d say her captain is ‘her Captain,’ if you take my meaning.” Flynn handed the glass to Mr Mr.. Pitt. looked and grunted, surprised.

He

Standing in the back of the gathering throng, Dr. Prentiss couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Who is it?” Flynn nodded and Mr. Pitt wordlessly handed her the glass. As she looked, Flynn looked a question over her shoulder at Mr. Pitt, who shook his head. He looked rather miserable at the moment. “Well, she’s very pretty,” pretty,” observed t he good doctor, approvingly. Chain asked, “The ship?” Deena was enjoying herself for the first time since she’d boarded Alacrity . “Yes, nice lines, unexpected presence here, but with a certain assurance. Yes, Yes,”” she said, handing the spyglass and a grin back to the captain, “you’ll have your hands full with her!”


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook Bola asked, “The ship?” Grinning mischievously, the doctor left the group as quickly as she’d entered it, leaving more than a few questions and one very unhappy first officer in her wake. “Eggplant,” bellowed the Captain. “Set us down next to that ship as soon as you can.” “Aye, Captain,” came the distant muffled response. “Who is it,” asked Bola, mournfully, never one to bear up well under the ravages of curiosity, but the captain was already deep in thought, as evidenced by a certain tuneless whistling. It was another hour before they settled down and tied off, hovering at port, just one hundred yards from the smaller airship. The rope ladder was kicked over the edge and the crew started to disembark, led by Mr. Pitt, who ritually did a quick scan of every port. However, he wasn’t the first to touch ground this day, that honor going to the captain himself, who, after making sure all was organized on-deck had turned and dropped lithely over the rail, quickly and expertly, to the dock, hitting the wood lightly, and striding toward the other ship’s captain. The mystery had gotten out by that time, and the crew of Alacrity rushed to the railing to uncover the revelation. Flynn strode up to the smaller frame of the other airship’s airship’s captain. He stopped, looked around for support, cleared his throat, and spoke. “A moment of your your time, ‘Captain,’” ‘Captain,’” said Flynn, struggling to keep the tension out of his voice.


Pg. 26

The captain whirled around, one hand on sword, eyes sparking. “Yes, who...” and then they locked eyes and recognition between them was established.

board that ship?” he asked.

Clarissa shook her head, her fiery copper hair catching the stray rays of sunlight underneath fronded palm trees. “No, it had obviously Or re-established, in this case. “Cooper been burning for quite some time when we Flynn!” she said, and a hushed gasp went up approached, and she sank shortly after we from those in the know up on the deck of arrived overhead.” Alacrity . Flynn relaxed relaxed visibly. “I know something “Hello, Clarissa,” he said. about that ship,” ship,” he confided. “We’ “We’d d visited her earlier in the week and had recruited our doctor from her ranks, as well as some sailors. We had left her and were in the process of Part Two - The Cliffs of Zempher making the crew at home when it became They observed the form as good Haddirron necessary to turn around and return to her. captains would, seated at a small café, enjoyin g She was already burning when we found her, aromatic local flavored tea, making polite small so we moved on. You must have just missed talk, and exchanging what news of the world us.” each was current on. She said, “We scanned the surface of the found none. I can’t They were at what would be a small ocean for survivors, but found figure out what might have happened to have outdoor cafe in a more developed setting, emptied her decks like that.” but was actually just a home-built table and some stumps out in the independent islands Flynn debated how much to tell her, but between countries. Still, everything was clean, resolved to be coy for the moment. “I’m just they were comfortable enough, and the place glad to see you again again after Academy. I thought exuded a certain quaint charm for all its rustic you’d never speak to me again after I was appearance. drummed out in my third year.” It helped that the tea was unsurpassed. She looked at him thoughtfully from across Perhaps it was the company, Flynn wondered the simple little table. “I was very angry at idlely. first, but two things changed my mind. First, Clarissa was talking about an anomaly I received a letter from Deena Prentiss shortly at sea. Flynn sipped his tea, trying to resist afterward that explained some things without drowning in her sassy green eyes. “The strange actually telling me anything.” thing was seeing the ship burning in the middle Flynn started chuckling quietly to himself. of the ocean without a single soul aboard that we could spy from the Tanith. It was eerie.” Clarissa looked at him oddly. “What?” Flynn looked at her in alarm.

“Did you

“Deena, you you say? She hasn’t mentioned


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook anything about that to me.” “Why would she?” Flynn grinned. “It just so happensthat she’s onboard Alacrity as we speak.” Clarissa took that information with a raised brow. “Oh? How did you manage that? After you stole her husband from the graduation ceremony and disappeared into the night onboard the prototype airship, she had the commodore reassign her to a medical ship and sailed away from port as soon as she could. I had the distinct opinion that she was as angry with you as she’d been patient, earlier, after your public disgrace.” “It had to be done. It was for the greater good.” “We all serve Her Majesty the Queen,” said Clarissa, and if she was patriotic in that moment, she was also somehow saucy. The effect on Flynn weakened his knees, and he was very glad he was seated. “So now you know about me,” he lied casually. “How did you come to command one of Her Majesty’s airships?” “Much the same way you did, I suppose, “she said. Flynn’s eyebrows raised. “I rather rather doubt that,” said Flynn, wryly, “but go ahead—tell me how you came by your commission.” She smiled in a deprecating way and confided in Flynn. “Which brings me to the second thing that changed my mind. I was extremely vexed with you after the apparent debacle at the graduation ceremonies.


However, the commodore later confided privately to me how you had been promoted to active duty early, in order to serve Her Majesty in a secret capacity as first captain of the first prototype airship.” The sails were were flying in Flynn’s head. “I… wasn’t sure how much he would say,” Flynn said, carefully. carefully. “That ’s not public knowledge. As far as anyone knows, I’m a rogue privateer loosely serving Her Majesty out on the high seas.” She continued. “After the ruckus died down after graduation, I was given command of a small schooner off the coast of Rafa. It was a short-lived command. I had only served on her a short time when I was recalled and privately informed about the new air fleet. I was told that you were already aboard an airship and that I was the perfect one to find you. I was told we would be working as a team on the front lines of a new form of conflict.”

Pg. 27 signet seal on it. It was still warm from Clarissa’s body heat when Flynn carefully accepted it. He couldn’t help but note that it smelled of lavender and a not-unattractive feminine sweat, warm and musky and real. His head swam just a bit, and he noted with a start that she was looking at him. Flynn chuckled to himself without comment and broke the seal, opening the parchment. He scanned it quickly and tossed it on the table in front of them. “Yes, “Yes,”” he said. “These orders confirm what you said.” She nodded and mock toasted him with her tea cup. “So,” he said, leaning forward, “how would you like to put your fancy new airship to work and go on a raid with me?” She smiled enthusiastically. “Why Cooper J. Flynn,” she said, “are you asking me out on a date?”

She was clearly pleased with this, but the underlying implication suddenly chilled Flynn. Calmly, he asked, “We’re going to have to Mr.. Pitt walked up just then. “J? Your Mr talk about this air fleet some time. However, middle initial is J?” something you said has me thinking. Were you perhaps given orders for me in the event that “Your timing is impeccable, Horatio,” Flynn we found each other?” joked good-naturedly. “Mr “Mr.. Pitt, you remember Clarissa MkDougall.” “As a matter of fact, yes,” she said. “I’ve been keeping them with me expecting us to She stood and gave him a crisp salute. “Mr “Mr.. find each other, I mean, expecting I would Pitt.” catch you, that is...” She stopped stammer“Captain,” he said, saluting. ing, looked him square in the eye, and started laughing to herself. Then she stopped, unbutFlynn reclined with his hands behind toned the top of her captain’s coat, reached his head, and watched the exchange with a into an inner pocket, and pulled out a small, certain good-natured bemusement. “If you folded parchment with the admiral’s own two are through with the ‘Mister and Captain’


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook routine, you think we can plan out a quick raid or two?” # Eggplant enjoyed some tea at a nearby table after delivering the maps he was requested to bring. Flynn looked at Clarissa and said, “You recognize this bit of coastline?” “It doesn’t ring a bell,” she said, “but I haven’t spent as much time in the independent islands as you have from your former life as a trader.” Mr. Pitt leaned back and shot a look at Flynn behind Clarissa’s that said “Trader?,” but he kept his tongue. Flynn smiled to himself. himself. He tapped the map and said, “It doesn’t show up on this map, but there’s a coastal Sylvan town here at Zempher, which is the first Sylvan outpost. They have important dry-docks, supply warehouses, and exotic vendors of all sorts.” “Seems easy enough,” said Clarissa. “Ah, well, there’s one further little element to this setup.” “The cliffs,” said Mr. Pitt. Flynn pointed at his friend. “Right,” he said. “The cliffs of Zempher are known for their emplaced guns. They’re big, they’re accurate, and they’re not going to fall for any trickery.” “One presumes you have a plan,” said Captain MkDougall dryly.


Flynn looked at Mr. Pitt and back at Clarissa. “I do, yes, but I suspect you won’t be as excited about it as I am.” “Why’s that, pray tell?” “Well, that would be because in order for this to really work, we’re going to require something, ah, a little risky.” “Risky? Like how?” “In order to for this to really work, we’ll need to get the attention of those emplaced guns and then take them out.” “And how do we ‘get their attention’ as you say?” she said, guarded. “Decoy,” said Mr. Pitt as it came to him. Her eyes flashed then as she realized the nature of the challenge being issu ed to her, and the faith placed in her. She leaned back then and smiled the same sort of feral smilethat Flynn was famous famous for. for. “When do we start?” she said. # Three days later, the HMS Tanith approached the coastal port of Zempher from due so uth just before dawn at an altitude of 250 feet. feet. Captain MkDougall could see the port to her starboard, and if she noticed the emplaced guns directly in front of the Tanith at an altitude of 400 feet, she gave no indication. The sudden concussion of the cannon salvo jarred the sleeping denizens of Zempher awake.

Pg. 28 HMS Tanith slowly drifted straight up the coast, putting salvo after salvo into the three ships moored there at dock. It was too soon to determine much in the way of effective damage but Tanith was clearly wreaking havoc on the docked ships. It seemed like fifteen minutes before there was any sign of life, but the bang - bang - bang of the Tanith’s guns were suddenly matched by a tremendous boom coming from the cli ffs, the cannonball ripping cleanly through the Tanith’s top sails. Captain MkDougall stood resolute onboard the Tanith, her hands locked behind her back. “Steady as she goes,” she said soothingly to her pilot pilot in the the wheelhouse. wheelhouse. She raised raised her voice. “Continue the bombardment,” she ordered, and they did, laying down another salvo into the ships docked to starboard. “Be ready to swing to p ort on my command,” she murmured quietly to her pilot. Two more blasts echoed out from the cliffs of Zempher, bracketing Tanith but both missing. “One more salvo,” she barked, a strand of hair blowing free and falling into her face unnoticed. There was another blast from the cliffs whistling toward Tanith , the cannonball narrowly missing the foremast, taking out a spotter crewman on deck. Marking this, the captain looked down at her chart and said, “Hard a ‘port!” and the crew all leaned to starboard, leaning into the steep turn. As she was making the turn, she presented her belly and starboard side squarely to the big cliff-side guns. By virtue of the speed speed of the maneuver combined with the turn, Tanith had slowed even further and was set up, for all intents and


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook purposes, as a sitting duck for the gunsthat were now primed and ready on the cliffs of Zempher. “Now what, Captain?” “Steady as she goes, Mr. Mr. Ells. It’s up to now,”” said she. Alacrity now, There was a huge salvo of cannon fire above them and they both flinched, but it wasn’t the cliff-side guns. Alacrity appeared from the north-northwest at 400 feet, gliding into view a mere 100 feet away from the cliffs. The cliff-side gunswere in placenow to fire at Tanith , but were themselves out of position to respond to the new threat. Alacrity drifted directly in front of the cliff-

side guns. “Fire at will,” bellowed Captain Flynn. “Let fly, fly, let fly!” “Twelve guns, Captain, already!” shouted Mr. Pitt.

three

down

the masts. Ten gold pieces to the crew that can take down a mast. Let fly!” Mr.. Pitt took fla gs with him and asked Tanith Mr what her losses were as the two ships passed opposite each other. Mr Mr.. Pitt could see down onto the deck and noted the torn canvas and some damaged rigging. Then he noticed the red splotch on the deck and had his suspicion confirmed—one dead. “All right. Eggplant, on my my mark, descend to 150 feet feet and make the turn 60 degrees to starboard. I want to wind up facing due south so that the dock is hard a’port. Mark!” Alacrity made her turn and Captain Flynn

waited until the first shi p was in full view. “Port guns! Ready? Let fly!” Alacrity unleashed a tremendous salvo into the first ship and the mizzen-mast went down in the first volley. A roar went up from the gunners below deck.

Another salvo took out two more guns and then the pounding of the cliffs commenced in earnest, Alacrity rocking with each report, smoke billowing toward the cliffs, the cannonballs ripping great gouts of rock and concrete and pounding the bunkers where the cliff-side guns were emplaced.

“Very good, men! Reload and prepare for the second ship. On my mark.... fire!”

It was a bold, brutal move, and it paid off. The cliff-side guns never got off another round.

“One more volley on the last ship. Reload and prepare to fire.”

# “Mr. Pitt, please see to th e Tanith. Gunners! “Mr. Load up again for a thorough bombardment of the ships to the port. Pay special attention attention to


Cannonballs ripped through the rigging of the second ship and splintered the foremast, which collapsed slowly in a tangle of rope and canvas.

Captain Flynn waited as the third and largest ship came into view. “Steady... steady...fire!” With a final thunder of cannon, Alacrity shuddered and bucked and rocked. Onboard

Pg. 29 the third ship, wood splintered, sails ripped, and the mainmast was hit. With a great creaking groan, ropes snapping like whips, the great mast toppled onto the desk and partly into the water water.. By the time the attack was over, all three ships were incapacitated and the infamous guns of the cliffs of Zempher had been silenced. The airships had lost one crewman and some canvas sail and were out of Zempher airspace before 6am, leaving the port in shambles, but more importantly, taking the fight to Sylvan territory. Alacrity ascended to 250 feet and left the port behind, heading back south for two miles, then hove to and waited for the Tanith . She arrived shortly before noon and they came alongside. Grappling ropes were carefully thrown over, and the ships were brought together.

Captain Flynn received Captain MkDougall and Mr. Mr. Ipness in his cabin. “Congratulations, Captain—you did beautifully.” “Thank-you, Captain Flynn,” she said, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. “I believe it is all due to your masterful plan!” Flynn grinned, and then cleric Vaneras stepped forward and spoke in low tones to Flynn for a moment. Flynn looked at him with calculating eyes and weighed what he’d just heard. He reached a moment of decision and nodded. The cleric stood stood and returned returned to the wall, playing the part of a dutiful crewman to the hilt. Flynn would remember that, and hold onto it for later. Flynn turned back to Clarissa.

“Cleric


The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 19, Courting Danger by Johne Cook Vaneras informs me that you lost a crewman.” “It’s true, yes, Milo Geth. It happened so fast—he never felt a thing.” “Cleric Vaneras has volunteered to stop over and say the words, pray with the crew, counsel the bereaved.”

Pg. 30

ments. After years years of skirmishes and quiet maneuvering between the two great nations, Sylva formally declared war on Haddirron, and special bounty warrants were sworn out against the airships. All Cooper Flynn could think about was Clarissa, oblivious to the growing danger.

“Thank-you, Captain. His help would be most welcome.” “Cleric Vaneras is also a cook of some renown in our galley—perhaps he would favor us with a victory meal.” “Already prepared, Captain,” said the cleric, grinning for the first time. “I anticipated that the crews would be in the mood for something celebratory.” Flynn was careful not to grate his teeth. “Excellent,” he said cheerily. “Thank you, Cleric.”

End of Chapter 19 The Adventures of the Sky Pirate continue next month.

The holy man bowed without apparent guile and departed, out of sight but not out of Flynn’s mind. Flynn and Clarissa celebrated together that night, telling stories, remembering the fallen, and drinking to the future. Then they released the lines and set the course for Roarke’s Island three days to the south where they would take on full crews of sailors and a well-deserved liberty. HMS Alacrity and HMS Tanith turned and made their way back south toward Roarke’s Island, unaware that word of the raid had been received back in the Sylvan capital of Grendare. The Sylvan Council voiced their fury against Haddirron’s newest technological achieve-


Johne Cook Johne is a technical writer, help author, creative writer, and editor. He likes prog rock, space opera, film noir noir,, racquetball, and the Green Bay Packers.


Memory Wipe, Takeda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Sennon

Pg. 31

Memory Wipe

Chapter 17 17,, Takeda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Sennon

N

ew Bristol’s ever present haze of smoke and dust made the morning light a dull, lifeless red as it filtered in through Takeda’s window. He blinked slowly. Real sleep had evaded him, but in the last hour before dawn he had fallen into a half-dreaming doze. His sheets were tangled into one great knot by his thrashing.

out for his tail. He picked up his leather armor from the floor and put it on. “I am expected,” he said. “And I almost had to crack earlier guard’s head for job.”

He sat up slowly. He wasn’t tired, but there was a cold ache in all his muscles that made him want to run, climb, punch the walls, do anything to make his limbs work. For just a moment, it was difficult for his mind to lock onto the thoughts which had kept him awake.

Zartsi slung his rifle around his shoulders. His bright blue eyes fixed Takeda with unsettling intensity. “Yes. But I have suspicion you’ll be gone when I get back.”

Sherri was imprisoned on Tong’s capital Caulthor. Probably in one of the same black pits which had contained him before his escapes. The vidscreen had shown her for just a second, unconscious on the stone floor. Takeda extricated himself from the covers and pulled a shirt over his head. Zartsi’s breath hissed softly as he lay sleeping on a narrow cot in one corner—he had insisted Takeda use the bed. His newly acquired rifle rested close to his right hand, and he still wore his carved ivory daggers. Takeda put a foot down on the floor and his sapphire eyes snapped open. “Going to work, Tak?” He yawned expansively. “Today’s shift doesn’t start for another hour. They don’t pay me any more than they have to.” Zartsi rolled to his feet. He wore a loose black vest and long gray trousers, with a sli t cut


Takeda smiled weakly. “You’d better get moving, then.”

Takeda stood, putting on his jacket. The pistol he had taken yesterday lay where he had left it, still splashed with the would-be robber’s blood. He slipped it into one pocket and left the room. He expected to find the apartment dark— Esheera rarely stirred before ten o’clock, these days. Instead he found her in the kitchen, seated at the table with a plastic mug of red tea sending wisps of steam around her nose. She smiled softly at him. “Morning, Tak,” she said. “I made a pot.” She filled another mug with the steaming, dull crimson liquid and held it out to him. He accepted—the plastic warmed his hands and the tea’s faintly spicy scent helped clear the wad of confusion that seemed to have taken the place of his brain. He sat down across from her. “What time do you work today?” she asked, then slurped from her own mug.

“I’m...not sure if I’m going at all.” Esheera nodded wearily. It occurred to Takeda to wonder how much sleep she had gotten—she had still been up at two o’clock, watching vids. “Dare I ask what you were planning to do instead?” Takeda knew his smile looked artificial. “I... haven’t exactly figured th at out myself, yet. But it’s going to involve getting off Coalsmoke.” “Sure. You probably have enough money to buy a bunk on a starliner, especially if you agree to work. I have to warn you, though: not many ships make Caulthor a port of call.” Takeda let himself take a gulp of tea before he answered. It felt and tasted hot, with a electric aftertaste. “I know that.” “Then what’s your back-up plan?” “Like you said, I can work. I’ll get a place on a merchant ship.” Esheera nodded, jangling the beads wound in her thick hair. “True enough. Some peopl e do think Caulthori jewels are worth the run. They tend to be front outfits for gangsters, though.” “Then I’ll cut a deal with them. Just as long as it gets me on the ground there.” Esheera’s tone darkened almost imperceptibly. “And then what? Go knock on Tong’s door and ask him if he could please let your friend go without a fuss? Storm in with all guns activated?”


Memory Wipe, Tak Takeda’s eda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon “I am...fairly good in a fight.” “Not that good,” Zartsi said from the doorway. “Not powerful enough to storm militarized base. And you said Tong has others— other men like you. How many could you kill?” Takeda drank tea to steady himself. He was tired—tired down to his chromeel-laced bones. The tea would help wake him and give him the strength not to shout both of them down. “I don’t know,” he said. “Not many. Not all of them.” Esheera refilled her mug to the brim. Now Takeda saw the lines of blood etched around her pupils—she hadn’t slept any better than he had. “Then I don’t see what good you’ll do throwing yourself to them like bacon among scorwolves.”

every word, choosing them carefully. His plan took shape only as he spoke it.

stopped making any rational sense. “I...won’t let you risk your life with me. Not this time.”

“Then I’ll learn everything I can about Caulthor. Interview people who have been there. Find everything I can about the people, planetary defenses, Cou nt Tong Tong himself. I’ll find something. If there’s even the smallest chance for me to find her and rescue her...then I will take it.”

“You’ll make me track you?” Zartsi said, lips splitting into a grin.

He lifted his gaze from his tea to Zartsi and then to Esheera. Zartsi’s gaze was hard, Esheera’s more sorrowful. “I don’t want to abandon you two. But neither of you can convince me to abandon her. her.””

Esheera reached over her shoulder and slammed her mug down on the counter. She wiped her mouth on the back of one arm and bent forward. Both hands were planted on the table. “If you’re in a mood for ultimatums, “You still...do still...do n’t understand. In Greendome I’ve got one for you. I like you, Tak. And since I I was no one. Almost literally no one. Sherri like you I don’t want you to vanish into Tong’s was a beautiful woman with men lining up to jaws.” say good morning—she didn’t need me. But she was kind to me anyway.” She smiled sadly. “If I thought it would hold you down I’d chain you to your bed.” Takeda stared into the dark surface of his tea, reflecting the white kitchen lights. “I’d do “Are you really going to try to stop me?” the same for you. Or Zartsi.” Esheera shrugged. “Yes if I could. But I Gentle, hissing laughter came from the can’t.” doorway. “I am glad to hear. Tea left?” “You place me in di fficult situatio n, Takeda,” Takeda,” Esheera silently poured a mug for Zartsi as Zartsi hissed through a mouthful of steaming he hooked over a stool and seated himself. “I tea. “I stay here, and I am shamed. I go with agree with Rover,” he said, before Takeda could you, and I die.” speak. “Suicide is not your calling.” Takeda placed both palms flat against the A full minute ticked past before Takeda table. The plastic felt cool and smooth, like a could speak. Despite the tea, his brain was still point of material solidity in a world which had cloudy from too little sleep. He had to fight for


Pg. 32

Takeda’s laugh sounded forced even to him. “No, Zartsi. I...I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’d be dead long ago if you hadn’t found me on Belar. I’d...probably have Lashiir’s sword through my heart, or just be a pile of skitter dung in the jungle somewhere. There’s really nothing I could ever do to repay you. And...thank you. But I can’t accept your help any more.” He turned to look at Esheera. Her head was cocked slightly, letting the braids fall free ly down her back. Takeda curled his hands into fists and dropped h is gaze to the tabletop. “You too, Esheera. You’ve done more than I could ever have expected. I...hell, we didn’t even pay you much in the first place. Thank you. “But...I can’t let either of you help me. Not anymore. I have to this, but I’m doing it alone.” He breathed in and out, slowly, before continuing. “That’s my decision. I’m leaving as soon as I can—this morning—and...it’s likely that you’ll never see me again. If you do it ’ll be with Sherri.” He let his breath pass through his teeth in one long exhalation, trying to calm himself. It took a massive effort to twist his head up and look at her face. Her eyes were hidden by wrinkled lids as she propped her head up on one hand. She looked...sad. More so than he had ever seen her.


Memory Wipe, Tak Takeda’s eda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon Zartsi made a stark contrast. His fierce blue eyes drilled into Takeda’s and his teeth were bared—not in a smile this time, but in a half-concealed snarl. He bent forward, his tail writhing. “Takeda...” he hissed. “I cannot accept this.” He spread his claws wide, almost supplicating. “Takeda, when being commits shameful act, sin against the Eternal Sun, sorrow of heart is not enough. The act creates hole that must be filled...wound that requires salve. Darkness that must be lit up. There must be suffering and good works where there was selfishness and sin.” He curled his claws suddenly, as if crushing some insect on his palm. “I have sinned, Takeda. There is blood on hands, old but still red. I have...rulmaga have...rulmaga.” .” He spat the word out like a rotten seed. “Murder. I have murdered .” His tail twisted in slow arcs and his eyes dropped to the floor, then back up to Takeda’s eyes. Zartsi looked every bit the warrior, in his leather armor, with his ivory daggers strapped against his hips. Takeda had seen him kill. He had slashed open that cop’s throat on Belar, given his uniform to Takeda, and left his corpse in an alley way. His blades and his rifle were like limbs grafted onto his muscular frame. Takeda had seen danger and barely hidden ferocity in Zartsi’s eyes, had watched him hunt...and, for a moment, he could see murder in those bright eyes and wiry arms. But Zartsi had never been a killer. He had fought with Takeda against evil beings trying to


kill them both. He was no murderer. “Who did you kill?” Takeda asked. Zartsi seemed not to hear him. The LithralLithrallian drew an ivory dagger faster than a blink and slammed it down onto the table. The blade gleamed coldly in the kitchen’s stark fluorescent light. “I slit throat with this. One stroke, clean kill. Enough blood to drown in. It spilled on floor but covered me. “There is exile, and there is atonement. On Belar was exile. I live in jungle, hunt, sell hides and skitter organs, drink. I am no one. When I met you I was there for five years. When I saved you from skitter, I knew exile was over, and atonement begun. “I saw man in need, fleeing from evil men, and knew I could help. Defend. Protect.” His eyes narrowed until his irises showed as chips of blue in slashes of white. “Save one life. Illuminate darkness of one murder. I thought this, and I think still. You see, Takeda? This is why I fought with you, protected you. This is why I must protect you now.”

Pg. 33 Walking Evils. Now Zartsi was volunteering to follow him into Tong’s open jaws. Tak Takeda eda didn’t think he could ever match that courage. But still knew that he could never accept the Lithrallian’s help. Not now, when it would mean near-certain death. “Thank you, Zartsi,” he whispered softly. “But I can’t let you come with me.” The Lithrallian’s face convulsed in anger. Takeda hurried on. “I won’t get past the orbital defenses if I charge in. I have to try to...infiltrate, somehow. I think I remember enough about the security to get into the base. From there...it’s possible I can pass myself off as one of his other warriors, not Two. I’ll disguise myself somehow. You can’t do that.” Zartsi’s expression slowly melted from anger to sorrow, still tinged with a tense frustration. “My atonement is not complete,” he hissed. “I know,” Takeda said. “But...you’ll have to finish it somewhere else.”

He stood suddenly, bashing his knee Takeda swiveled his eyes to Esheera, as if against the table. He used the flash of pain to for confirmation. She smiled very slightly and cut through the confusion in his mind, giving nodded. “ Yes, he did tell me this for the Rover’s him strength. “I’ll leave now. There’s not much price.” to pack. I’ll leave you some mon ey, but I’ll need It had often astounded Takeda how far most of it.” Zartsi had been willi ng to go for him. There had Takeda smiled at both of them. “Thank been no bargain between them—no money you,” he said. “Good luck.” had changed hands, Zartsi owed him nothing. Takeda had been helpless, lost, and broke. Then he turned and stumbled out of the But still Zartsi had accompanied him through kitchen. Behind him, Zartsi growled, but he everything, through the flight to Freedan, heard Esheera whisper something to him. He Lashiir, their journey to Nihil and their hellish didn’t bother to enhance his hearing. trek through the desert, their fight against the


Memory Wipe, Tak Takeda’s eda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon #

On the surface, the installation was nothing more than a jewel mine. Caulthor’s Ash and hot wind swirled on the surface of constant volcanic activity produced diamonds, Caulthor, endlessly baked by the molten glob red sapphires, silcryses, and other gems of a of red fire that seemed to fill the sky. The day size and clarity that commanded a high price lasted seventy-one standard hours, the night throughout the human Empire. The peasants nearly as long. It was during the dark hours scrambled out to gather them each night and that Lashiir emerged from Despair and walked huddled beneath their domes during the day. Lashiir had seen signs of other thin gs, however, the ash wastes surrounding Tong’s fortress. aided by Despair’s powerful sensor capabiliThe darkness was beautiful. A haze of heat ties. There were vast deposits of metal buried and ash blocked out stars and Caulthor’s two beneath the mountain’s rock. There were scars stunted moons, and the ground was as black as on the desert from weapon testing. Beneath its the sky itself. Occasional flashes of volcanic heat rough exterior, the mountain was a fortress. and upwellings of magma on the plain formed Lashiir walked in darkness an d prayed to the slashes of deep red that seemed to absorb light rather than spread it. Lashiir kept his talons only god he had ever acknowledged. Darkness wrapped in thick boots that protected them waited, and she consumed. Light could drive from the searing temperatures of the ground, her back only temporarily. She filled the space and he had discarded his cloak. He wore only between stars, the endless gulfs between a saarath—a length of black and deep violent galaxies, the wet insides of living beings where cloth knotted around his genitals—and the no light penetrated. She lurked in every crack shoulder belt from which Tsiika hung. His black and surrounded the entire universe, filling space minuscule and infinite. carapace lay exposed to Caulthor’s fury. Hot cinders blown by the wind stung him and the hot air threatened to steal his breath. The darkness was thick and moist, reminding Lashiir of the gloom found in the deepest jungles on Shii Zaksho, the Black World. He walked and ran beneath the smoldering sky and prayed to the Darkness around and behind and above and beneath all life. The night was far advanced. Dawn would come within ten hours. Lashiir had made good use of the previous sixty, flying Despair as close as he could to the perimeter of the Count’s fortress. Strong defenses kept had him from penetrating too far far..


Lashiir had always serve d a master, whether it be the Noble Lictor or a worm like Nathan Clane. He did not wis h to change his habit now. Count Tong was strong and ruthless. And his men on Nihil had been seeking Takeda Croster. Lashiir’s prayer only strengthened his suspicion that Tong had created Takeda, made him a warrior of bionic metal, and that his other men were sim ilar ilar.. Caulthor’s blood-red sun rose, and Lashiir made his decision. He would present himse lf to Tong and offer his services and his sword. If he was refused...then he would take Tong’s head and see how many men he could slaughter before they sent him to Darkness.

Pg. 34 # A steady rain was falling on New Bristol’s south port. Moisture glistened like oil in the dull gray light of the lamps that ran up and down the port in endless rows. Ships clustered beneath those lights, sectioned off from each other by seven-foot high strome fencing with slice-wire strung along the top. Water ran in streams from hulls painted in dull reds, golds, and greens. Some had no paint and had been left dull gray or black. Takeda crouched behind a small powerbox providing electricity to most of the landing field’s lights. Rain had soaked through his clothes long ago, but he ignored the uncomfortable feeling of cold fabric clinging to his skin. He craned his head out and spotted his target five hundred feet away, separated from him by two fences. The Gallant Snatch was a dull black freighter that had none of the elegance suggested by its name. It stretched nearly two hundred feet from nose to engines. He could only see one guard. The man patrolled with a languid pace and his rifle was slung across both shoulders. It would take at least three seconds for him to fire a shot. But there were others, including the men around the port’s perimeter with leashed scorwolves. He would have to move carefully. He didn’t want to kill anyone, and if he was caught, he wouldn’t get a second chance at this. The Gallant Snatch would depart in six hours, and preliminary maintenance and fueling would begin in twenty-five minutes. The guard wandered on, and Takeda slipped out of cover, crouched low against the wet


Memory Wipe, Tak Takeda’s eda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon asphalt. He rolled up his sleeves and twitched the muscles in his forearms that extended a pair of curved blades, the color of bone. There was little pain. The blades sharp enough to slice through the fence’s centimeter-thick strome wire. Takeda jerked his arms back and forth in a sawing motion, keeping his eyes on the guard and using his enhanced hearing to listen for others. There was one man about two hundred feet distant but moving directly away from Takeda. He could smell scorwolves, but not close enough to concern him. Strome grated beneath Takeda’s blades as they sawed through. He cut a hole just barely wide enough for his hips to slip through. A sharp piece of wire tore a rent in his pants but only scraped the flesh. Takeda rolled across the asphalt and into the shadow of a sixty-foot short-range transport. The guard ahead turned around and came back along his patrol. Takeda listened to his footsteps, faintly muted by rainwater, and waited until he passed by. Rain soaked his hands and buttocks. Five days had passed since he walked out of the apartment with nothing except his newlyacquired gun, the clothes on his back, and about a hundred Silvers. The first day had been spent making initial inquiries among the captains currently in port. It had taken a few hours to discover that most spacers considered traders who made runs to Caulthor borderline insane. Very few of those insane captains shipped from New Bristol. Takeda had found one of them on the second day, but quickly found that there were no berths available for less than a fortune and no openings in the crew for an inexperi-


enced man. That first ship had left before the idea of stowing away had come to him. The next three days had been spent in fruitless searching for other ships, combined with long nights spent studying whatever information he could find about Caulthor. Until, that is, he had finally located the Snatch three hours ago, just as the rain had begun to fall. The guard passed along his patrol route, and Takeda sprinted up to the next fence. He hoped the hiss of falling rain would be loud enough to cover the sound of his arm blades sawing through strome. He could only thank God that the fence wasn’t electrified. His blades had a keen edge and matched strome for hardness. It took onl y a few seconds of sawing to cut through each wire, perhaps thirty seconds to open a hole wide enough for him to squeeze through. He rolled through and onto wet concrete, scraping one shoulder hard. The guard’s footsteps were moving steadily away from him. He turned and pulled up the sawed away section of fence so it might look intact at a glance. Then he sprinted towards the Gallant Snatch. A strong scent of scorwolves struck his nostrils. At least four. Their cries came a moment later, shrill barks that sounded more like screams than anything else. Loud enough to pain Takeda’s enhanced ears. No time to worry or retreat. Takeda heaved himself up and broke into a sprint for the Snatch. His shoes slapped against the wet asphalt—much too loud. The guard would turn any moment, see him, and aim a shot. The scorwolves were coming straight towards him, their smells and sounds intensifying.

Pg. 35 Then the Snatch was looming above him, water glistening on its black hull. He threw himself into a roll, entering its shadow, and clawed at the asphalt with his fingers, pulling himself forward. There were about two feet of clearance under its belly. More than enough room to hide. Takeda pressed his chest down and lowered his head, hiding the whites of his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he heard a man’s voice shout. “Taking the doggies for a walk?” “They scented something,” another man said, just loud enough for Takeda to hear. “Oh, really?” the first man called back, shouting to be heard over the animals. “Probably just the hash Jack was smoking last shift.” “I don’t know...” the other one said. “We keep these mutts for a reason. And I thought I saw someone.” “Yeah, you saw me.” “No, someone else. Running that way.” “It’s raining, and those dogs make you skittish. I’d get jumpy too.” “I could just let them run...see what’s bothering them.” Takeda’s gut twisted in fear. He had seen scorwolves before: Nearly two meters of lean muscle beneath a thin coating of black-andblue fur, with claws like knives. He would be able to beat them, but not without revealing himself to the security men and blowing any chance at getting off planet.


Memory Wipe, Tak Takeda’s eda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon Then the dogs’ barking subsided to lowpitched growls. Takeda wondered if the smells of the ship—oil, rust, paint, grease, cleaning fluid—might be enough to conceal his scent. He lifted his head and carefully looked back over his shoulder. The pair of scorwolves were on their haunches, obviously tense, but weren’t straining at their leashes. “There, see? Give ‘em some food, and they’ll be happy.” “Not until the end of the shift. Boss likes to keep them hungry.” “Heh. Don’t see why. Don’t really see why we even keep the damn things around. Except the drugs and stuff go out in these ships, and the city’s in the mob’s pocket, so mob property gets guarded.” The men spent another minute discussing New Bristol’s corrupt politics. Then the one guard dragged his scorwolves back to the perimeter and the other continued his languid stroll through the fences. Takeda Tak eda let his breath o ut slowly and listen ed to the guard swear quietly at the rain. Maybe this had all been a mistake. Even if he got into the ship, the Snatch’s crew was certain to discover him during the voyage, and then...he would be faced with a choice between holding them hostage and letting himself be spaced. Neither was acceptable. He crawled out from under the ship. The loading doors to the cargo bay were marked by lines of bright gold paint. When opened, they would expose an opening twelve feet by ten feet. Not large, but they wouldn’t be carrying anything larger than clothing, basic


Pg. 36

maintenance equipment and tools, and a scant He felt for a ladder he knew must be there, selection of luxury goods which would sell for just above his head. His hand touched only tremendous prices on Caulthor. another steel coolant pipe, ice-cold, and a shiver of fear raced through him. What if he Takeda ran his fingers along the seam entombed himself in these narrow spaces and between the doors. They were vacuum tight found himself trapped in space without enough and held shut by three massive digital locks. air to survive, much less food or water? No chance of getting in through that. Then his fingers hooked around the first But there were other openings. The Snatch ladder rung, a foot to his right. He carefully was a standard freighter model, and although wormed his way up the shaft—so narrow that Takeda had only had a half hour to study its a massive ventilation duct pressed against his specifications, he had memorized the locations back—and crawled up into pitch-darkness. of three panels which provided outside access to the ship’s life support system. If something He made his way through several more went wrong with the internal controls, the narrow crawlspaces, groping along lengths of problem could be fixed directly. cold, rough metal. The darkness was oppressive and he had to fight constantly against an Life support was always carefully scruti- overwhelming sensation of being trapped in an nized before lif t-off. Takeda Takeda worked qu ickly. He endless hell of black machinery. His memory selected a panel large enough to admit him and proved faulty more than once, and he was left studied the lock. Vacuum tight, but not half as groping for minutes to find the next opening to formidable as the system securing the cargo squeeze his body through. bay. He carefully placed a finger against it and sent out a carefully controlled jolt of energy. At last, lying on his back, he felt a panel Sparks flashed as he burnt through the bolt. over his head, bolted shut. If his specs of the ship had been accurate, this panel would open He used one of his forearm blades to pry into the cargo bay. He would have to trust to the hatch open and hauled himself into it. his strength to shift whatever might be stacked There was a cavity just large enough to contain on top of it, but once the ship was underway, his curled body, closed in by coolant and venti- he thought he would be able to worm his way lation pipes. Claustrophobia washed over him out for food , water, and air. in a wave, but he fought it down. He would have to spend a week in similar spaces. The air He couldn’t have been the first person to smelled like chemicals and ancient metal. try this. Odds were good that they would check the crawlspaces for stowaways, and if they did, Takeda let the hatch swing shut behind him they would find him. and fused it shut with another burst of energy. He hoped his touch had been subtle enough He took solace in one fact which had for them not to think someone had welded it been drilled into his by a dozen spacers in the closed. port bars: no one except the most hardened merchants went to Caulthor, and only the truly


Memory Wipe, Tak Takeda’s eda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon insane stowed away to get there. # Five minutes after Takeda shut the door behind him, Esheera got up to make another pot of tea. She had a feeling that, if she didn’t drink it now, she might not want to in the future. “You’ll be late for work,” she told Zartsi, who remaining sitting at the table, staring out the window. “I will not work,” he hissed. “Then I guess we’ll starve.” He swung his head up to look at her. “You think I will suffer this?” She leaned against the sink, gripping its edge with her hands and staring down into the clear water. Her wing-flaps itched—she hadn’t been bathing often enough—and exhaustion clouded her head. Her hair needed a thorough scrubbing, too...and she suddenly realized that she hadn’t changed her clothes in three days. Had she really let herself decay this badly? “I don’t know,” she said. “Can I just pose a question to you, Zartsi?” “What?” “What do you think of Tong?” The Lithrallian narrowed his eyes. “If what Takeda said of him is true, he is tyrant. And he possesses powerful weapons.” Esheera absentmindedly felt her braids. They were greasy and stringy. She’d need to


wash her hair and re-wrap them entirely, rearranging her beads as she went. Soon. “Good summary,” she said, smiling slightly. “Others just like Tak. Soldiers who look like other men on the outside, but are self-contained war machines underneath the skin. He could do...quite a bit of damage with those.”

Pg. 37 don’t think any amount of stalking is going to bring him back.” Zartsi snorted. “Then what?”

She flared her nostrils as she said, “Zartsi, if you were a ruler, and you had men like that, how would you use them?”

“Look at the bigger picture for a moment. Whatever Count Tong is planning, I’d be willing to bet it involves conquest within the Empire. Perhaps even a move against the Emperor himself. Tak...whatever Tak...whatever he does, he won ’t bring Tong down by himself. That I would be willing to stake my life on.”

He cocked his head. “Are you joking? I am ruler, in way.”

“Is this philosophy game for you?” Zartsi growled, his eyes locked on the tea pot.

She smiled. “I know. So you should know what I’m getting at, right?”

“No. Bear with me and think about this: who knows about it aside from Tak?”

Zartsi blinked slowly. “I would use them to infiltrate inner circles of my enemies, gain confidence, and become loyal retainers. Men could demonstrate great combat skill and become bodyguards and officers. Only when command came...men would become assassins.” “Perfect assassins,” Esheera said, turning to the cupboard for another tea packet. “And I can think of other uses. Terrorism, sabotage, hijacking...useful possibilities for an aspiring rebel.” She tore open the packet—the second of the three she had bought—and dumped its contents into the pot. “You see what I’m getting at?” “Not...completely. You think I should run after Takeda?” Zartsi asked, throwing his weight forward as if preparing to dash out the door. “No. If we couldn’t stop him just now...I

“You and I.” “Exactly.” Esheera stirred the tea with a long spoon while she continued, “Zartsi, if what Tak remembered is true—and I have no reason to think it isn’t—Tong threatens much more than just him. He’s a threat to the Empire itself. And we are the only two people who know about it.” Zartsi bared fangs. “So? I don’t care for Empire. I am Lithrallian.” “Your chance at redemption just walked out that door. I’m suggesting another one to you.” Zartsi’s eyes snapped up to her, widened in anger. “You abuse my trust, Rover!” “I don’t think I do. I know what you did, and I know who you are. Because of who you are,


Memory Wipe, Tak Takeda’s eda’s Resolve by Sean T. M. Stiennon I know that people placed very high up in the Imperial government might be willing to listen to you. They might even trust you when you tell them the reclusive ruler of a junk province is planning to overthrow the Empire.” The Lithrallian stared at her, anger fading to astonishment. “Why not mention this to Takeda?” “You saw him. I don’t think I could have convinced him if I took him to a reeducation camp for six weeks.” “Then...” Zartsi said, hissing under his breath, “you will go to capitol and demand audience with governor?” “No,” Esheera said quietly, setting her spoon down on the counter. “I will demand a formal audience for Prince-Heir Zartsi Asik Hsonra, Second Son of the Serpent King.”

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Sean T. M. Stiennon Sean is an author of fantasy and science con novels and short stories, with many publicaons under his belt. His rst short story collecon, Six with Flinteye , was recently released from Silver Lake Publishing, and he won 2nd place in both the 2004 SFReader. com Short Story Contest and the Storn Cook Razor-Edged Ficon Contest with his stories Asp” and “ The The Sultan’s Well Well ,” respecve“ Asp The Sultan’s Well” Well ” has been published ly. “ The Swords . Sean’s in the anthology Sages and Swords. Flinteye’s Duel” Duel” was published short story “ Flinteye’s Revival , Issue 01, and “Flinteye’s in Ray Gun Revival , and “Flinteye’s Sabotage” was published in Issue 35. Sean’s work tends to contain lots of acon and adventure, but he oen includes elements of tragedy and loss alongside roaring battles. A lot of his work centers around connuing characters, the most prominent of whom is Jalazar Flinteye ( Six Six with Flinteye ). He also writes tales of Shabak of Death Marks Marks ,” in issue #9 of Talon Point (“ Death Amazing Journeys Magazine ), Blademas Asp ,” 2nd place winner in the 2004 ter (“ Asp SFReader.com Contest Contest ), and others who have yet to see publicaon. Sean loves to read fantasy and science con alongside some history, mysteries, and historical novels. His favorites inDeclare clude by Tim Powers, Memory , Sorrow , and Thorn the trilogy by Tad Williams, Stephen Lawhead’s Song of Albion trilogy, and King Solomon’s Mines by H. Rider Haggard. He has reviewed books for Deep Magic: The E-zine of High Fantasy and Science Ficon Ficon , and currently SFReader.com.. reviews books at SFReader.com



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The RGR Time Capsule January 1 - January 14, 2008 Sci-Fi news from the Ray Gun Revival forums Revival forums RGR Date: January 04, 2008

There are numerous technological technological developquestion is: Is it true? You get pictures that are ments that might hasten a Singularity, and Vinge so pretty that [whether] [whether] they’re true or not slips http://raygunrevival.com/Fo http://ra ygunrevival.com/Forum/viewtopic.php? rum/viewtopic.php?t=1681 t=1681 thinks that “right now the one that is proceeding into the background.” like gangbusters is large computer networks and hp://io9.com/ RGR Date: January io9 06, 2008

Aack of the Sci-Fi-Themed Blogs

hp://www.boingboing. net/2008/01/01/new-sf-blog. html My friends Annalee Newitz, Charlie Jane Anders and Kevin Kelly have just launched a new Gawker Gawk er science con blog called IO9: it’s lewd, funny, smart and irreverent SFUniverse.com SF Universe SF Universe - SciFi news coverage for television, movies, and print. their associated users waking up as a superhumanly intelligent entity.” The 2007 San Diego Vernor Vinge Interview wildfires and Google’s coverage of the disaster http://raygunrevival.com/Fo http://ra ygunrevival.com/Forum/viewtopic.php? rum/viewtopic.php?t=1682 t=1682 via Google Maps provides an excellent example Shaun Farrell, who has been featured here in of these networks. “An immense amount of RGR, has interviewed Vernor Vinge in ClarkesClarkes information was immediately available there. world Magazine. Vinge is one of our most It really involved all sorts of infrastructure. It progressive thinkers, and it is a fascinating involved satellites. satellites. It involved robot aircrafts. It interview: involved people on the ground taking pictures. And it involved humans actually interacting with http://www.clarkesworldmagazine.com/ it all to generate more information. In fact, it farrell_01_08.html was so good that, as often is the case, the chief

RGR Date: January 04, 2008


The Return of the Airship http://raygunrevival.com/Forum/ viewtopic.php?t=1683

hp://www.popularmehp://www.popularmechanics.com/science/air_ space/4242974.html Always on the verge of a seeming comeback, airships are back in the spotlight, touting new technologies. The Defense Advanced Research Project Agency recently announced funding for an innovave, ballast-free airship technology created by Aeros Aeronaucal Aero naucal Systems, based outside Los Angeles. The Aeroscra ML866’s potenally revoluonary Control of Stac Heaviness system comcompresses and decompresses helium in the 210-.-long envelope, changing this propro posed sky yacht’s buoyancy during takeo and landings, Aeros says. It hopes to end the program with a test ight demonstrang the system. Other companies are planning their own rst ights within the next few years. Each has a design that it promises will launch a new era of lighter-than-air transportaon.


Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 38

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