Examination, part 2

Posted on August 9, 2012 by john

:(

Needs so much editing but better to post it now and do that later, I need sleeeeeeeep

—

Alex was still breathing steadily as Sarah stepped up to the table. She passed a hand over his head and was reassured when she sensed the impulses that told her his brain was functioning. Her right hand stayed above his temples while her left settled on his upper arm. She breathed deeply and then flexed the parts of her hands she felt extending beyond her own skin; the gloves started to blur their way into skin and muscle, nanoscopic agents working to fetch samples and negotiate with Alex’s own machines.

Displacement tugged at her. There was something fundamentally strange about the sensations the gloves gave her, feedback from beyond her body that nevertheless felt as much a part of her as her arms and legs. There were stings of repulsion as her patient’s defences hailed her, a whirlwind of information about his blood and muscle and nerves, and the strange feeling that she could just keep on pushing through the skin and come out the other side.

Sarah snapped forward at a ping from her right glove; something had upset it. She thought she recognised the pattern it was showing her, and after a moment of uncertainty her net confirmed it: Alex seemed to be dreaming, but the machines in his brain were in a frenzy. She pulled away breathed deeply.

“Can you fix him?”

Sarah turned to see Rachel staring at her. The pilot’s customary scowl was gone for once, replaced by naked worry. Sarah looked back down at Alex and shook her head.

“I don’t know.” She looked back at Rachel as the aquatic stood up and walked around the couch to stand next to her. “His machines aren’t letting me in; I’ve only got what I was able to grab from his blood and an indirect brain scan, which is that his body is sleeping.”

Rachel nodded but said nothing more. After several seconds, Sarah decided to venture a question.

“If you could tell me how he ended up-”

“Don’t know. Ask that one.” Rachel’s arm waved at the lounge where the prisoner sat with her head in her hands. “She was there before I arrived.”

Sarah pushed herself away from the table. As she turned away, Rachel caught her by the wrist and pulled her back. There was a trace of the old snarl in the pilot’s voice as she whispered in Sarah’s ear, but it was far outweighed by fear.

“And while you’re at it, you can ask her how she has Alex’s face.”

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Examination, part 1

Posted on August 7, 2012 by john

Sarah knew that she was in trouble the moment she heard the knock at the door. The house systems had told her that Ruby’s code was being used to sign for entry, but she’d been told that nobody would be coming back to the safehouse until the evening. After double-checking that the code matched, she told the house to go ahead and grant access. Ruby charged inside less than a second after the lock released, with a body slung over her shoulder and a fierce look in her eyes. The sight shook Sarah so much that she couldn’t manage a better greeting than a frightened “What happened?”

Ruby heaved her cargo on to the trestle in the middle of the room. Sarah moved closer and felt a rush like vertigo when she saw that it was Alex. Ruby rapped her knuckles on the edge of the table. “Our boy here got himself into a big mess, that’s what happened. Get your game on, girl, we need you to get him back on his feet.”

Sarah swallowed and nodded. “Can you tell me anything more specific?”

“Afraid not – you’re going to have to figure out what’s wrong for yourself. He’s still breathing for now, anyway. Best guess is that the fella who jumped him managed to hit him with poison or a shutdown virus.” Ruby shook her head and pushed herself away from the table.

“All right,” Sarah said, forcing herself to breathe steadily as she leaned on the table and looked Alex over. He seemed physically unharmed, at least; there weren’t any obvious wounds and his breathing was regular. His eyes were more worrying, stuck open and staring blankly ahead. Sarah looked up to ask how he’d been attacked only to see Ruby striding back out of the door. She came back in after a few seconds with a second body, covered in blood. Rachel entered right behind her, dragging a stranger behind her.

The girl was obviously terrified – her face was tear-stained and she was looking frantically around the room as if trying to find a way out. Rachel snarled and shoved her into a couch while Ruby dumped the second body on the floor next to Alex’s table.

Sarah caught Ruby’s eye and gestured at the newcomer. “Who’s she?”

“A prisoner,” Rachel snapped, showing an uncomfortable amount of teeth. “Now get moving, girl, Alex is a vegetable and we need you to tell us why.” The aquatic’s hands worked open and closed and she let a muted growl escape from her throat.

Sarah stared before Ruby gave her a warning look. The security specialist pulled her aside and lowered her voice. “We can sort that stuff out later, Sarah. Alex is more important right now.” Sarah nodded as the older woman gave her a tense smile. “I’m off to bring the rest in, but we should be back soon. Stay focused and you should be fine.”

Ruby stepped away and had a brief, muted discussion with Rachel and her prisoner before powering outside and locking the door behind her. Sarah had the feeling that there was more to Rachel’s raw nerves than her Alex’s injuries, but she didn’t have time to figure it out – she had a patient to see to.

She headed over to the next room and grabbed her pack. Her gloves were in the side pocket where she’d left them, and they came to life right away, interface icons lighting up one at a time around the edges of her vision. There was a slight tickling as the gloves sealed themselves around her hands, and then the last of the lights went green.

She was ready to operate.

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Galacian Espionage

Posted on August 7, 2012 by john

Field report

Commander,

The young lieutenant is mostly keeping on top of her duties. She’s been doing most of the logistics supervision herself, and has done a very good job of it – it’s obvious that she’s got an agile mind and a strong appreciation of how tenuous our supply situation is.

Orders of battle have mostly been delegated down to group leaders, but she’s kept an eye on who’s performing and who isn’t and has mostly been successful in maintaining our battle-readiness. In the absence of a proper engagement with Boscan forces, it has been impossible to judge her performance under fire.

Discipline has been problematic; her age has led several soldiers to openly challenge her over command decisions, and she has frequently failed to actively assert her authority in these situations; I suspect that she is having difficulty adapting from consensus-driven decision making to our hierarchical model. Junior officers have followed through on these breaches, but her soft approach leads me to believe that insubordinate behaviour and attitudes will not abate; in the absence of strong disciplinary action, the troops will continue to take liberties with their young and untested leader. All issues to date have been low-level, but I have made several security arrangements in case my models are inadequate and we find ourselves facing open dissent.

She has had initial difficulty interacting with unaugmented civilians and Boscan soldiers, which is to be expected given her insulated upbringing and training. After the first week, however, she has managed to acclimatise herself and has learned to exaggerate her body language when conversing with subjects unable to interpret her empathic projections.

I have not been able to compromise the security of her reports to you, and I have therefore attached my own estimation of our force’s disposition, including details of supplies, maintenance, personnel and forward scouting operations. Given the lieutenant’s history in the regular army, I do not expect any inconsistencies between her report and mine, but I nevertheless recommend reviewing both of them.

In the absence of any serious misconduct, I will maintain my surveillance and continue reporting to you. I have composed a shortlist of junior officers who I would consider capable of replacing her should she lose her nerve at a critical moment; with your permission, I will be selecting one of them to groom as an acting commander of our force if I am forced to relieve the lieutenant.

Report concludes.

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Prosthetics

Posted on August 3, 2012 by john

late late late and lame lame lame

—

I’m not squeamish about prosthetics. I want to make that clear right from the start. So when I was asked if I wanted to swap my legs out for prosthetics, I didn’t refuse because I was afraid. Sure, it’s tricky to grow replacements if you get sick of the metal, but it was peacetime then and there was no shortage of clinics willing to do it for the right price.

I guess I balked at it because it wouldn’t really have made a difference to my ability to do my job; I was working in communications on a carrier, so it’s not as if I had to worry about taking a bullet or having to run with a pack on my back. An upgrade wouldn’t have made me a better soldier, so taking the upgrade just felt selfish; the state would have paid the bill and received nothing in return, and I’d have been off duty for two months while they checked out the new parts.

Some of my friends took the offer, of course, and I didn’t give them a hard time about it, but I know for a fact that they just picked it up because it was free. To me, that kind of attitude was just wasteful – I’d almost say greedy. But I guess that’s all part of the recruitment drive, after all; the ADF didn’t pay particularly well and it was always starved for personnel, so it used free cybernetics as an inducement.

No, they weren’t compulsory. Your doctors have already given me the once-over, so you should know that everything below my collarbone is flesh and blood. I suppose some of the special forces might have only recruited soldiers who were physically augmented, but they were strictly a volunteer assignment and their work was dangerous as hell. Don’t you guys have fitness standards for your infantry? There’s no point recruiting someone who can’t carry their gear and run for hours, because they’ll slow the rest down, yeah? Well it’s the same with our guys, except that they can run all day and night and they could pick up two of your boys and knock their heads together.

What? No, that’s not a threat, it’s a fact. Oh, come on, don’t just leave…

[interview ends]

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Airlock

Posted on August 2, 2012 by john

So here we are with a late start for Blaugust 2012. Just a little piece that follows on from some of my earlier stuff, thrown together in a couple of hours when I realised I had no time left. Enjoy! Or don’t, I suppose, but if you don’t then I will be expecting feedback. >:O

—

Sarah shivered. She couldn’t remember being this cold since she’d left home. The airlock was cramped, cold, and dark, and the suit that Ruby was holding out to her didn’t look like it was about to fix any of those problems in a hurry.

She’d seen Alex and Rachel returning in suits from working outside of the ship before, and this one didn’t look anything like the shiny, segmented ones they’d been wearing; it was black, with a rough texture and a rubbery resilience. Sarah grabbed it hesitantly before looking at Ruby.

“Is it airtight?”

The older woman laughed. “It isn’t even watertight, but I’m sure you’ll survive, kid. We’re only five metres under right now, and we’re going to gear up with air and comms before heading off anyway.”

Sarah gave the suit a dubious look. “It’s not even heated, is it? You’re treating this low-technology undertaking very seriously.”

“Wetsuits were good enough for this kind of water five hundred years ago, they should be damn well good enough for you now, girl.” Rachel’s voice, normally harsh and clipped, came across even rougher over the radio. Not that the aquatic was even wearing a suit; she had simply stripped, grabbed a radio, and stepped into the airlock. Naturally, this fact hadn’t stopped her from picking up on a chance to belittle the newcomer.

It had been strange, seeing that casual assurance. Rachel was clearly perfectly at ease in this place, as if millions of years of drowning instinct had been engineered away by whatever had toughened her skin and sharpened her teeth. Sarah had thought her afraid to go outside earlier, but the water, at least, had clearly held no fears for Rachel.

Sarah nodded to her partner and strapped on the breathing mask as the water pooled around her feet. The chill was worse than she was expecting, and her feet felt numb by the time the water had reached her knees. She felt a shock as it reached her waist and crept in through the zipper at the small of her back, and then felt buoyancy slowly defeating gravity as it boiled past her elbows and then over her shoulders.

“Ready?”

Sarah nodded as Ruby palmed the door release. At least, she thought, she would get to see the sun. Brightness broke in from the edges as the hatch ground open. She took a deep breath and swam out into the light.

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WWN silliness

Posted on April 21, 2012 by john

Was it all over?

Standing to one side in the chapel, watching the battered and bloody woman Sine collapse back onto a pew with a disgusted look on her face, Herros felt as if his usefulness in the day’s battle had been exhausted. The captain’s mad plan had worked – to Thurak’s displeasure, yes, but that would be on the captain’s head and no other’s – and their king had the strength he needed to face the Sixth and once again subdue it. It was a simple creature; Herros’s tricks would not be of much use against it, and he certainly did not possess strength enough to face it directly. Thurak would prevail, or he would falter, and either way his retainers would not be of any use in the struggle.

He turned his gaze to the captain. The man stood motionless, not looking at Herros, or Sine, or the goddess he had just helped to reincarnate; his gaze was fixed downward, either at the floor in front of him or on a time and place far removed. Herros could not tell whether his leader was lost in prayer or recrimination. Stepping forward, he cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m going to look in on Laas and Chirt, sir. Try and get them somewhere safer.” His superior nodded distractedly and offered nothing more by way of reply. The strange, callous woman made a strange noise under her breath that could have been a laugh. Herros ignored her and moved for the exit.

His steps faltered as a mighty crash shook the castle, pitching him into the doorjamb as sounds of stone and steel rang through the passages. Righting himself, he strode out into the corridor and headed for the control room, feeling more than a little relief that the sounds of battle were now at his back.

He had made up his mind: this whole farce would be over soon, for himself and for as many of his friends as he could rally. Enough was enough.

(10 months, 21 days and counting since the start of this whole thing…)

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Expanse

Posted on March 18, 2012 by john

I sit down for a while to catch my breath. It’s been a long time since I ran as hard as I just did, and my throat stings as cold air rushes in. It would hurt less if I slowed down, breathed through my nose, but I need the air too badly so I put up with the pain. My skin and my clothes look so much more vivid than they were before. In this place, colour is something that I bring with me.

I find it easier to think out here. There are lots of distractions, it’s true, but in a way they help me to take my mind off the details of life that get in the way so often when I’m below. They’re always the problems that never end, the ones that subdivide and extrapolate and grow bigger and bigger just when you think you’ve got your head around them. Out here, the distractions are so huge that you can’t even process them properly.

I look straight ahead and I see the surface extending forever, featureless and glowing white. The horizon is perfectly flat, even though I know it can’t be more than six hundred metres away. That’s just how things work here. Above the surface, the sky is nearly a perfect black. I can look up, if I want to, and see it slowly speckled with white. Metis once told me that I’d see blue if I looked at the zenith of the sky, but I look now and all I see is white growing denser and denser against the black. I don’t know why.

It does help me, though. Out here I feel like my mind has room to stretch out until it meets the end of the universe and buts up against itself coming from the other side. My thoughts have time to finish that way. Half the time I can’t remember half of the things I dream up once I go back inside, but it still clears my mind in a way I’ve never been able to replicate elsewhere.

I like coming here. Themis has always told me that I ought not to, that it’s unsafe, but I never liked her reasons. I told her that I didn’t mind being unsafe and that safety wasn’t worth the clarity I’d lose if I couldn’t be here. She smiled at me when I said that, but I knew she wasn’t going to let me go. She’s never really tried to stop me, though; I think she assumes that I agree with her whenever I look at the floor and say yes. Sometimes I think Themis isn’t very smart.

There are different kinds of smart, though. Themis may not be able to see through my lies, but she probably understands the horizon better than I do. I don’t need to understand it, though; the freedom it gives me is all that matters. Freedom, now there’s a funny thing. Nobody really has it, of course – I only get what I can steal, and the others have even less. I never understood that part. I always get what I want taken away because Themis says it’s unsafe or irresponsible, and people do as Themis says – even me, most of the time. But even though she’s in charge, she doesn’t seem to have much freedom herself. If people did what I said, I’d spend a lot more time relaxing than Themis does, for sure.

All of a sudden I hear my name, and I know I’m out of time. The other one is standing behind me, far sooner than I had expected. I’d hoped it would be Metis sent to retrieve me – that I’d at least get an interesting story as I walked back inside – but this time Themis must have decided that I ought to be punished. I turn around and see silver and my heart falls as I see that my guess was right. This one doesn’t ask why I come out here. She doesn’t care.

Anger bursts up inside me, but this time I try to ignore it. I know now that it won’t do me any good – none of the weapons I’ve used against Themis and Metis work on this one. My pleading was ignored, my curiosity was rebuffed, and my attempt at defiance was crushed. I know, with more certainty than I’ve ever had about anything before in my life, that I am going to be returning inside.

I turn around to get a last look before I go under; she may not allow defiance, but she’s at least willing to indulge me in ways that don’t delay my return. I stare at the horizon, stark white set against absolute black, and try to impress it into my mind before I’m once again confined by walls and work and people. I wouldn’t mind going back in if I could just take the space with me.

—

I actually sort of stole the title from this, and spent the most productive part of the writing listening to Kimmo Pohjonen’s Womadelaide 2012 concert (it’s the third video, especially from 30:00 in). Kimmo Pohjonen is pretty rad! I’d had the idea for this one kicking around since the concert, so I’m glad to have gotten it done. Not sure whether I’ll be doing more accordion-fuelled abstract SF or if the next one will be back to fantasy politicians sassing each other. I’m sure I’ll be excited when I find out, anyway!

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In the wings (2)

Posted on March 13, 2012 by john

Well here we go. This one took way longer than I expected it to, and to be honest I’m still not happy with it, but I’ve got other ideas I want to play with so near enough is good enough.

—

Rell’s reply caught in her throat as she saw Fionn scowl at the press of people. He continued without looking at her.

“This whole enterprise is a foolish risk.”

She smiled. “You think there are assassins hiding in the crowd?” Her tone was playful, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on him.

“You must admit it’s possible,” he replied. “Sooner or later, the old men in Ara will tire of sending threats and bribes – if nothing else, Alexei’s made it quite clear that they don’t work. How much longer do you think it will be before they resort to more traditional methods?”

Rell sighed. “Isn’t this precisely why his highness has guards?” It was true, after all; the prince was flanked by two humourless men with swords, and there were at least a dozen more scattered through the room.

Fionn’s dark expression changed to something closer to resignation. “They do their best, I have no doubt, but I’ve yet to see a man move faster than a crossbow bolt.” His frown returned, fierce and uncompromising. “No, I’d be much happier if he listened to the people at greater remove. He has no shortage of pretty faces to do so on his behalf.”

“And to die in his stead, I suppose.” Rell looked sidelong at her companion. “Is that what you hope for, my lord? You make no secret of your dislike for me, but I must say I’m curious as to why. Do you think I carry a dagger for your master’s back?”

Fionn’s face was stony. “I think you carry a torch for him.”

“And that makes me your enemy?”

He shook his head. “It makes you unpredictable. Love only ever leads to trouble.”

“A conclusion drawn from your many years of experience, no doubt.” Rell stepped back and examined him. Short, slight, unremarkably dressed, and still holding a completely neutral expression. “You don’t need to act with me, you know.”

He remained impassive. “I don’t act.”

She laughed. “And I fly off to the moon every night to sleep! Come now, Fionn, be realistic. You’re a very good liar, I don’t doubt it, but I’m not stupid.” She waved at the rest of the prince’s entourage. “You may have convinced that lot, but I make a habit of thinking through life, and I don’t think you add up. But it’s such a wonderful story, isn’t it! The prince’s shadow, coming and going at all hours, sneaking around unseen, living without any friends or family. Quiet little Fionn, a pretty young thing with a heart made of stone, willing to lie, steal and murder so the prince need not get his hands dirty. Such devotion!”

“Do I amuse you?” Fionn narrowed his eyes. “You say I dislike you, but right now it seems that you’re the one trying to antagonise me.” He stepped forward and fixed her with a stare. “What are you hoping to provoke?”

Rell lowered her eyes and smiled. “My words were not intended to provoke you, my lord; I simply wished to gain your attention. And,” she said, looking him in the eye, “to let you know that I’m willing to hear you out if you ever want a real conversation. I’m sure you tire of playing your role every now and then.” She waited for a reaction, but the boy’s face had closed up again. When he spoke, it was with flawless control.

“Thank you for your concern. If you’ve any other advice-”

“I won’t hesitate to share it with you,” Rell interrupted, giving him a smile. “From one pretty face to another.”

She turned and walked quietly from the room. Fionn said nothing.

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In the wings (1)

Posted on March 6, 2012 by john

WELP here we go, two days behind but not completely absent. This one is incomplete but I figured that it ends on at least a vaguely conclusive note, so that will have to do. The prose version of Thursday’s will be happening, just not quite yet. Maybe tomorrow.

—

Summer had returned quickly. The Dawn Hall had kept the night’s chill, but the wind that blew in from the high windows was hot. The prince, seated near the front where the light fell, must have felt the morning sun acutely. Rell, waiting at the edge of the chamber, did not envy him. At least the crowd pressing into the building had the sun in front of them – their leader would have the heat beating down on his back for the whole morning.

These meetings had been his idea; an opportunity for him to consult with his new citizens and gauge their mood with his own eyes and ears. By a trick of construction, the hall’s windows allowed the morning sun to fall directly upon the front chamber in the summer months. Never one to shy from a grand gesture, the prince had declared that the business of government would begin each day in the light, and spent the morning of every fifth day amongst his people.

“Enjoying the view?”

Rell started, then silently cursed herself for letting her surprise show. She looked deliberately to her right and saw Fionn staring a challenge at her. The boy glanced at the papers she held and shook his head. “He’s not likely to have time to discuss the accounts until he’s done with the day’s theatrics.” All business, as usual. She waved at the circle of light cast on the chamber floor.

“I wished to see the morning light, my lord. A very clever trick of construction, I must admit. Do you think the builders worshipped the sun?”

Fionn snorted. “You would see religion here, I suppose,” he said, turning to face the throng. “You’ve precious little besides your gods below the Barrier, after all. I, on the other hand, suspect the builders had something more practical in mind.”

“Really now.” Rell chose to ignore the slight – it was too early in the morning to bother railing against Imperial parochialism. “And what might that have been?”

“Theatre.” He remained still, but she could see his head tracking a circle around the room. “The light falls into the centre of the hall and blinds audiences to everyone lurking here at the edges. The walls themselves push the sound away, so that we can whisper here without being heard.” He returned his gaze to the prince.

“They must have had their reasons for hiding away,” Rell ventured. Fionn shrugged.

“Similar to our own, I would guess. You can get away with a lot more in the shadows.”

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March Blog Madness

Posted on March 2, 2012 by john

March! Blogs!

Welp, March is here, and I have learned three things!

  1. Other people are doing blogs! Other people who are possibly Thom, Ale, and James!
  2. It’s difficult to make raw dialogue easily readable without context!
  3. I need better formatting options in this blog! What the hell kind of text editor doesn’t allow you to have indents on new lines?

Anyway this is a thing I have been working on. Tomorrow will be a prose version of the same scene, because I damn well need the practice. So hang in there, it might actually make sense by then!

—

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Nirri. She’s hell-bent on scrambling off East.”

“I don’t see why you’re complaining to me. I always said that girl would be trouble.”

“Don’t try to be coy. From all accounts, you’re the one who sent the damn priest our way.”

“And you really think he wouldn’t have found out from someone else anyway?”

“It might have given us one more day.”

“Would one day really have helped?”

“Every day we’re not North of the Barrier is a blessing.”

“Come now, the man’s not asking you to travel on the roads-”

“He’s asking us to go to Red Landing!”

“So you stay on the river until you hit the coast. It’s only a day’s walk from the mouth.”

“That’s a day too many.”

“You’re… Look, Cedar. I never wanted to say this to you, but you’re just being paranoid. You were taken, yes, but you were being foolish! You were alone, you were far too trusting, and you stuck out like a sore thumb. You were a perfect target, so it’s no wonder you got snatched. If you go in a group-”

“With my wife! With my daughter! With these marks on my arms!”

“Yes! Stick together, travel during daylight, and stay on the roads! Do you think the the whole country will be searching for you?”

“It wouldn’t need to be. It would only take one gang-”

“And I’ve told you a hundred times already: play the odds and you won’t meet any!”

“No, it will just make us less likely to fall foul of them. That’s not the same thing, Nirri.”

“You’re impossible. Why can’t you be satisfied with odds that are as good as certain?”

“Because I know what will happen if they prove false.”

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