Today Is The Day I Die - A Short Story

“Today… today is the day I die…”

Alina stared at the screen, listening to the voice of her sister coming from the hidden speaker.  Her sister.

They’d been through training together.  They’d ascended through the ranks together and had often served together.  And then she’d been accepted into the Valkyrie and they’d lost touch.  The Valkyrie were the Empire’s elite combat force.  Highly trained, versatile, and often acting as covert agents at the whim of the Empress herself.  Most people in the Empire had heard of the Valkyrie, but few had ever seen one of them in the flesh.

“The Vreen laid siege to Earth ten days ago.  They were swift and vicious, leaving nothing in their wake, overrunning the world in hours.  The defense forces, both Imperial and native, were decimated.  Only small pockets of resistance were left, fighting to survive in the hope that the Empire would arrive in time to save them.  Hoping against hope for us Valkyrie to come to their aid.

“We were too late.”

The voice was rough and ragged with exhaustion.  She had been here for days and had probably slept little if at all.  Alina knew how she felt.  Fatigue was a soldier’s nemesis and Alina had held its hand more than a few times over the years.

“We flew in low and fast, trying to keep the element of surprise on our side.  Somehow the Vreen were aware of us.  Their anti-air fire took out more than a few of our landing craft.  We evaded their fire and made a hot landing just outside the perimeter of the base, pouring out of the landing craft with rifles blasting away.  Many Vreen fell in the first few seconds of our assault, but they kept coming.  We did our best to surround them but they managed to break our line, forcing us to scatter and take cover where we could.”

Alina saw the assault in her mind.  She could see her sister in her combat armor with her rifle unslung, taking careful shots as she advanced with her sisters toward the enemy, then breaking toward cover when the true battle was joined.

“My squad found a group of Human soldiers holed up in a wrecked building.  They were tired, scared and quickly running out of supplies.

“They hoped we were their salvation.”

Alina looked around the room.  Bodies strewn across the floor told the horrifying tale.  There had been no rescue.  No salvation.

“Before we could regroup, the Vreen were on us.  They came through the windows and up through the ground, their insectoid armor protecting them from what fire we could lay in to them, their claws tearing through durasteel armor like paper, shredding flesh leaving only bone behind.  The few of us left retreated further into the building, blocking the exits as we went, hoping against hope they would hold.  They did.  For a while.”

Alina stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in and looked around her.  Her sister’s body lay against the wall on the far end of the room, her eyes closed and a small smile on her face.  Her other sister’s bodies and those of the Humans who had tried in vain to defend this place were strewn haphazardly around the room.  Most were only identifiable as skeletons, but a few had been spared the Vreen’s embrace.  Her sister’s voice continued as she looked for other information to take back with her.

“This place is our last hope.  We’ll make a stand here and perhaps, Great Mother willing, we’ll survive long enough to be rescued ourselves, or at least to take out as many Vreen as we can.  Alina, if you hear this, know that I wanted to tell you everything.  It wasn’t your fault.  You couldn’t have known, and I don’t fault you for any of it.  We’re sisters, Alina, and that counts for more than anything in this universe.”

The audio from the terminal was silent for a short while.  Just as Alina thought to go and check on it, a banging noise erupted from its speaker.  Then a crash of rending durasteel and screams.

“They’ve broken through the barricades!  They’re coming up through the floor!  This is it!  We need to form up!  Hold them back!”

The speaker filled the room with gunfire.  Alina could see the battle in her mind’s eye.  She could hear her sister barking out orders, urging her own sisters to fight to the last.  The noise lasted for all of thirty seconds and then the room fell silent again.

Alina stood in the room alone.  Waiting.  Finally, after an interminable amount of time, her sister spoke again.

“Today is the day I die.  We did the best we could.  The Vreen were too many.  I go to the Mother knowing my sisters fought bravely and with honor.  Today we were Valkyrie.”

There was a short gasp of air and then nothing.  Her sister had fallen.  Alina knelt down next to her, kissed her forehead, stood up and picked up the materials she’d collected.  She walked from the room, moving briskly to catch up with the rest of her team.  The bodies would be collected and identified by a cleanup team in the next few hours once the Vreen presence had been completely eradicated.  Her sisters would be honored on the homeworld, as would the Humans who fought with them.

Today was the day her sister died.  Today was the day that her life changed.  Today was the day the world changed.

Coffee Ninja

It had been a rough night.  Hansuke sat in the all-night café sipping his Americano.  He took it black and preferred it for its slightly bitter taste.  It was in a takeaway cup, green with a black lid.  He sat watching the early morning people make their way to or from their homes as a gentle rain began falling, causing some of them to open umbrellas, splashing the darkness with a dab of color here and there.

Hansuke watched the street display for a few minutes until Daisuke arrived.  Hansuke watched his friendly rival order a cup of coffee from the barista at the counter.  A few minutes later Daisuke arrived, cup in hand, at Hansuke’s table.  He nodded at one of the chairs across from Hansuke and Hansuke nodded his assent, so Daisuke sat down, setting his likewise green cup with a black lid in front of him.  Hansuke knew that Daisuke liked a stronger drink, so he almost always ordered an espresso.

Both men wore dark business suits with pink cherry blossom pins on the left lapel, a mark of the ninja clan they both belonged to.  They sat in silence, both respecting the code of silence their clan ascribed to and understanding that this was a time to relax and recuperate from a long day.

The rain fell harder, sounding flat and heavy on the awning outside the window.  The few people left out at this hour walked faster to their destinations and more umbrellas opened all but obscuring the people carrying them.

Both men stared out the window, lost in their own thoughts.  Hansuke lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip.  It tasted different, stronger.  He set the cup down slowly, staring at Daisuke without blinking.  The other ninja had obviously switched the cups without his noticing and this was a challenge Hansuke was not going to ignore.

Before he could act however, Nishi, another member of their clan, walked up to the table and caught Hansuke’s eye.  She nodded at the chair next to his and he again nodded his assent.  She sat down with a black-topped green cup in front of her.  Like the two men, she wore a somewhat more feminine version of the black business suit with the pink cherry blossom pin on its lapel.

Hansuke took another sip of his coffee.  He nearly gagged at the sweetness.  Nishi looked at him in shock at his reaction and then took a sip of her own drink.  A second later she made a face as if she’d bitten in to a ripe lemon, pursing her lips and screwing up her eyes almost comically.  Hansuke looked over at Daisuke but the other man was still staring out the window.

Silently, the other two ninja traded drinks.  Hansuke took a quick sip and tasted the familiar bite of his Americano.

A wind whipped up, whipping the now heavy rain down the street, streaking the windows and giving the scene outside an almost psychedelic effect.

The three ninja sat in silence, nursing their drinks, lost in their own thoughts.  Hansuke eyed Daisuke’s coffee, looking for an opening to swap cups in revenge.

His attention was broken by Yoshiko standing in front of their table.  Like Nishi, she wore the feminine version of the black business suit and held a black-lidded green coffee cup.

Yoshiko nodded to the remaining chair and Hansuke nodded back.  Yoshiko sat down, placing her cup daintily in front of her.  She like the rest of them had her mind on other things than her drink or the present company.  It had been, Hansuke mused, a rough day for all of them.

Moments later, Hansuke’s attention was drawn to Yoshiko as she gasped, nearly dropping her drink.  She looked at each of the other ninja in turn, trying to figure out which one had switched her coffee.  Hansuke sipped his own and felt the bland taste of a weak tea slide over his tongue.  He stared at Yoshiko and she grimaced, obviously expecting something other that what she’d tasted.  They traded cups and Hansuke sipped his drink, once again tasting his Americano.

A few minutes later, Daisuke stood up.  He picked up his cup, nodded at the others and made his way out in to the windy, rainy early morning.

The remaining three ninja sat staring at the rain for a while, each lost in his or her own thoughts. 
Hansuke picked up his drink and took a long pull, intending to finish it before leaving himself.  It was all he could do to not spit the strong espresso out all over the table.  Instinctively he looked up at the ceiling, but there was no one there.  The other ninja picked up their own drinks and sipped them.  Seeing no ill effects, Hansuke swore in silence to repay Daisuke for his last trick.  He would show his rival who was the better ninja.

Writing Process Blog Tour

And sometimes somebody asks you to do something that makes you think about the way you do your thing.


I have to thank Yelena Casale for inviting me to participate in the Writing Process Blog Tour. You can find her at Yelena Casale's Writing Blog and on Twitter at @Yelena_Casale.

The point of all this is to reveal a little bit about the process each of us has when we sit down to write.  Each is unique in its own way. This is mine.  On to the questions!

1) What am I working on? 

The thing that's taking up the bulk of my writing time is an untitled science fiction piece of "undetermined" length.  The current target is 50,000 words, but it might shrink or grow as things progress.  At the moment it's working out to be a science fiction take on James Bond with a female protagonist.  Like most of the stuff I've written it's mutated from what it started out being.

The other thing I'm spending head-time on is a project that I started, got through a first draft and then had to put down due to to other concerns.  It's a sort of urban fantasy novel concerning good, evil and fate.  Considering how long it took to write the first draft, the second and succeeding drafts could take a while.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre? 

While I tend to write what can nominally be called "science fiction" and fantasy, my science fiction stuff tends toward space opera rather than hard sf.  While there are explanations of the science in the stories, those explanations aren't very deep and some things simply aren't explained at all because I don't feel the need to do so.  Also, my work tends to have more than a tinge of romance to it.  My fantasy work tends to be more character driven than plot driven.  My characters don't tend to go on epic quests.  Things happen and they learn things about themselves that they didn't previously know.

3) Why do I write what I do?

 I've been a fan of science fiction and fantasy since I was very young.  It's the thing I'm most familiar with.  As such, when I began writing stuff in my teens I started writing science fiction-y stuff.  Over the years I've been slowly expanding my repertoire to include bits and pieces of other genres, but I've always gravitated toward those genres because they feel right.

4) How does my writing process work?

 Honestly, I think my process is weird.  I'm sort of a hybrid pantser/plotter.  Usually when I start a first draft I'm pantsing it until I'm either at a point where I know the piece has legs or isn't going to work.  If it does have legs then I'll tend to sit down and write an outline with the major plot points I'll need to hit.  The outline then acts as a guide to get me from point A to point B.  If the story takes detours that's fine. The map is there to bring me back on track when necessary.

I also try to write the ending first.  A piece of advice I got from a professional writer friend years ago.  I will actually sit down and write out a paragraph or more that defines the ending scene.  Having done that I have a direction to go toward.  That ending might change based on the story, but it gives me a direction to head in.

I don't do a whole lot of research.  Most of my stuff is either in a fantastical world of my own creation or uses ideas that are sort of standard in the sf genre.  I have done research in the past when I've needed to understand a concept, but it's not usual for me. 

Keeping the tour rolling, these three authors will be posting about their process on Monday, July 21st. Read them. See what makes them tick.

Lisa T. Cresswell

Lisa T. Cresswell is the author of a middle grade, fantasy trilogy and a YA Contemporary novel. Her next book, a YA dystopian novel is due from Month9Books in 2015. By day, she roams the deserts of southern Idaho, where she works as an archaeologist. By night, she writes fanciful stories for young people. Find out more at www.lisatcresswell.com .














Allison Duke

Allison describes herself like this:

I am a person who loves. I love God, my husband, my kids, my church, books, life, horses, art, music, theatre, movies, the Bible, people, sarcasm, good food, good friends, family, butterflies, mountains, sunshine, snow, and chocolate. I occasionally blog my thoughts and write novels. I live in Colorado and I love it here.

You can find her blog at allieduke.blogspot.com













J. B. Mills

Julia used to want to write 100 novels and lock them in an old trunk, so a century later someone could find them and publish them postmortem. Then she decided getting published in her lifetime might be ok too. At least that’s the current plan! She writes YA novels and lives with her husband and son in Denver, CO. She’s expecting her second child in September.

http://writerwandererwonderer.blogspot.com/

 

The Person Is Not The Work

I've been thinking about this for a long while now.  Off and on the problem will rear its head and we'll be off to a new flame war about essentially nothing.

First it was the whole to-do about Orson Scott Card and his politics.  This brought about a call to boycott the Ender's Game movie because seeing it would give Card money. (I know there's more to the mess than that, but that's essentially the issue.)

Now there's this debacle with the Hugo Awards.  (Link opens in new window.)  Essentially it boils down to two authors who don't like each other campaigning against each other not because of the books they wrote but because of each other's politics.

Here's the thing.  If you're voting for an award for a book or a movie or a record or a song or whatever the politics of the creator have nothing to do with your vote. The thing being voted on should be looked at on its own merits and not on the merit of the creator.

Back when I was a comic book collector and fan I had a similar issue.  Comics artist Trina Robbins, whose stuff I like, is often an outspoken, almost militant, feminist.  Her stances on many subjects rub me the wrong way.  I'm sure she's a fantastic person (and people who knew her back in those days were quick to say she was) but I can't deal with her politics.

Y'know what?  I still like her stuff.

Certainly I can see her political leanings in her work.  Moreso in some pieces than others as some things are meant to be more political than others.  That doesn't lessen my enjoyment of the work or her ability to craft a story and draw entertaining characters.

I still like her stuff even though I've found her politics to be distasteful.

I think Harlan Ellison is an ass.  Outspoken and abrasive.

I still like his stuff.

I can separate the person from the work.  I can separate the creator's politics, religion, gender, race, whatever from the work.  If I don't like the work, I don't consume it. If I do, I do.

We should all be able to do this and it's a sad commentary on the state of fandom at large that instead of dealing with the creation on its own merits we seek to attack the creator for whatever reason often acting like little children who didn't get their way.

The person is not the work.

Dune? Dune!

I do a lot of my reading with audiobooks nowadays. They allow me to multitask and they're unabridged which means I have to listen to every word.

I admit at the outset that this is my first time listening to Dune.  I've seen the David Lynch movie multiple times but didn't have the time to sit down and read the book. Until now.

So here's the issue I bring to the book.  Every person I've ever talked to about Dune says that there's so much more in the book that wasn't in the movie.  They get angry that Lynch somehow lobotomized their baby.  And I suppose I can see their point of view. There are certainly elements of the book that were missing in the movie and a few that might have explained the background a little more.  The story goes that Lynch's initial cut was some three hours long and that the studio demanded a shorter cut, which is why he now distances himself from the movie.

Outside of some changes made specifically for the movie and the needs of that medium everything in the movie is in the book. The Atreides are given control of Arrakis, the Harkkonen attack, Paul's father dies, Paul becomes the leader of the native Fremen, the Emperor comes to Dune to set things right and Paul and the Fremen fight a battle to push the Empire from their world.

That is the essential plot of the movie and the book.

Yes, we don't see the Emperor in the book until near the end, but the movie needs him to come in at the beginning and lay down the backstory so the viewer understands the story and the reason for the action.  What the book explains in roughly three chapters, the movie does in about twenty minutes.

Is there more character development in the book? Certainly. That's what books do well.

Does the movie change the Weirding Way, the Atreides fighting style, from a nebulous martial art to something involving sound being transformed in the beams of force?  Yes. And it works for the visual medium of film. I doubt any viewer would have accepted what would have become a Kung-Fu movie if the Weirding Way had been kept as it was in the book.

Don't get me wrong. There are things in the movie that are cheesy and don't hold up. But the core of the plot is there and it works.

If you haven't read Dune I recommend it.  It's a good book. The dialogue is a little stilted and the science part of the science fiction is more along the lines of Jules Verne or H.G. Welles than Clark and Asimov, but it fits solidly in the genre.

If you see the movie, enjoy it. It's a solid film and a lot of fun. If it has any downsides it's the extensive use of in-the-character's-head dialogue sequences. This doesn't occur in the book but became a necessity when the studio decided they wanted a shorter cut of the movie.  No matter the medium, Dune is a dense story and these dialogue sequences were the only way to get information to the viewer in the amount of time available.

And that's the end of my story.

Rest In Peace Alondra

Wednesday, January 8, 2014 was one of the worst days of my life. The night before, my niece Ali and her boyfriend Zack had gone on a date to Reno, NV (they lived in Fernley, NV, just outside of Reno).  They had come home around 10:30pm.  At some point between then and Midnight, they both passed away due to carbon monoxide poisoning.  My sister found them around midnight.  My older nephew informed my father and me around 2am on Wednesday.

There was shock.  There still is.  For most of the week I thought about all the things she'll never get to do or try to be.  Simple things like never going to Senior Prom.  Never getting to drive on her own.  Never getting to go to college. Never getting married. Having her own kids. And on and on.

Ali was a sweet, gentle girl who nonetheless had a core of strength inside her. Tell her she couldn't do something and she'd show you she could.

She was always smiling and loved to laugh and sing.  She loved her friends and had many.  Always outgoing, she made friends easily. And she wanted her family to share her friends, too.

I'll miss you Ali. You were the kindest, sweetest niece an uncle could ever want.

Why Han Shot First

A few of my posts have been started by something I read on Twitter.  This is one of those posts.

Earlier today somebody on Twitter posted the idea that it didn't matter that Han Solo shot first or last in whichever version of A New Hope you've seen. (I'm old enough that I saw the original in 1977 in a theater and Han shot first.)

However, from a character standpoint it does actually matter.  Han Solo is not a hero.  He's barely an anti-hero. He is a mercenary who works for the highest bidder.  The entire negotiation scene between him and Ben Kenobi in the Mos Eisley Cantina makes this clear. He's only interested in taking Luke, Ben and the droids as passengers if the price is right.  After that he's all smiles.

Almost immediately Han is accosted by Greedo, one of Jabba The Hutt's tough guys.  The scene that follows shows Han feeling out Greedo.  Maybe he can be schmoozed or bribed.  When it becomes apparent that Greedo is out to gun Han down, he takes matters in to his own hands and shoots first.  It isn't a heroic act and it fits Han's personality at this point.

Everything that Han says and does in the movie is pragmatic and self-serving almost until the end when he shows up and distracts Darth Vader, allowing Luke to make the shot that destroys the Death Star.  And even then that act only happens because Chewbacca coerces Han. (This is made clear in the semi-canon Star Wars radio play.)

The point of all this is that Han Solo is not a nice guy at the beginning of the story.  He isn't particularly nice at the end, either, but he's pragmatic.  Shooting first is pragmatism.  Waiting to be shot at is heroic.  And Han at that moment is not heroic.  That scene weakens the arc Han goes through in Star Wars.

I didn't have a lot of problems with the changes George Lucas made to the Original Trilogy.  Some of them were silly (parts of the Mos Eisley sequence in particular) but some of them actually helped the movie without getting in the way of the plot (the way Cloud City was opened up and made to feel larger).  However, having Han shoot first immediately felt wrong.  I understand the logic but I knew when I first saw it that it was the wrong change to make.

I stand by that.