Stuff – Page 2 – Afterwards

Back it up baby

such a relief…

I’m not writing at the moment. I am instead doing something I should have done long ago and in fact this should have been part of my ritual from day 1 of writing this blog. As a programmer by trade I should know better yet each night I go to bed and still almost every word I have written in 9 months of blogging remains without back up.

I have written more than 800 posts in that time, tens and tens of thousands of words, hundreds of ideas poured onto the page yet I do so with little regard for protecting it from chance or stupidity. The thought of losing it all now is just bowel churningly awful as I intend to put a load of into into a number of books this year.

When I started my blog I did not really think much beyond signing up to wordpress and then beginning to type. To this day that is mostly what I do with very little plan or real agenda.

I realise that you can export your entire Blog using WordPress functionality, and this I did though I will admit that I think there may well be an issue with the file as I am encountering all manner of issues trying to export it from XML. Instead of buggering around with the file I instead chose to open every single post I have made and copy it to an appropriate word document (one for poems, another for flash fiction etc) and then save that both locally and to the cloud.

I realise there are better more efficient ways of doing this but if 15 years of programming have taught me anything, it is that if you don’t back up regularly you will get your arse spanked on this matter before too long. It will still take me a couple of days to complete but already I feel far happier knowing that I am not leaving such things to chance and I will most certainly be far more disciplined in such matters going forward.

I’m sure you all back everything up though right. Probably just me.

I love this !

Were not alone. Maybe possibly.

I tried explaining this very thing to my children today and wasn’t particularly good at it but this article absolutely nails it when it comes to trying to explain why perhaps we may think we’re alone in this universe despite sense insisting that we aren’t.

via The Rare Earth hypothesis

Mission Primary Part 5

Somewhere out in the dark of space

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene.

I’m going to tie them to M’s prompts this month. The prompt was “Spacing out in shadow’s doubt”. Mostly it had me thinking of confusion and consternation. The story continues for now I guess…

Part 1 can be found here.

Part 2 can be found here.

Part 3 can be found here.

Part 4 can be found here.

Cal scoured the holo screen looking for any sort of sign that there might be something still out here. The scans were picking up the moon about three hundred and eighty thousand clicks away, and it was visible through the port windows but that wasn’t what he was after. He knew earth should be here, the maps weren’t wrong. The coordinates weren’t wrong.

“It should be here Desi” he insisted. “I don’t understand where it could be.”

“Maybe it’s just a myth Cal” Desi said staring out into the darkness. “Do we really know it was ever here.”

“Hell Desi of course we do.” he said angrily. “This is where we’re from, this is our home.”

“It’s not my home” Desi replied. “And it’s not yours, you were born on Seranos just like me. Let it go Cal, let’s just go home we are already in enough trouble as it is. Dad is going to kill us when he finds out we’ve taken his ship.”

“Do you never wonder why we’re forbidden from returning Des? Why they always tell us that Earth was abandoned to protect us all but no one even knows where it is anymore.”

“Not really no” Desi replied. “It’s a myth Cal, a bed time story. ”

“Then why were dad’s maps locked away? Why has no one even been back to look in 800 years? That’s not right Des. It must still be out here somewhere.”

The screen flashed briefly and a data stream ticked across slowly. Cal stared at it for a while.

“What is it?” Desi asked not really caring. She just wanted to go home before Dad found out they were gone. Cal was always getting them into trouble, and despite him being a year younger she always found herself drawn to whatever wild plan he had in his head. Once Cal had found the Maps in his father’s unlocked safe a few months ago he had become obsessed with the idea of Earth.

“Just what looks like an asteroid belt, nothing major” Cal answered. “We could go take a look I suppose.”

“Cal come on” Desi said turning off the screen. “Let’s just go home Cal there’s nothing out here.”

“Then why the Moon?” He snapped bringing the screen back up. “If the moon is here the earth must be here.”

“Cal let’s just…” She began and then stopped and pointed slowly out into the darkness. “What’s that?”

Mission Primary Part 4

Somewhere out in the dark of space

I’m going to tie them to M’s prompts this month. The prompt was “Jumping Jupiter can’t get stupider”. I didn’t get much further than the idea of Jupiter. Let’s see if I can continue the story with it.

Part 1 can be found here.

Part 2 can be found here.

Part 3 can be found here.

The Callista’s comms crackled into life as the roar of her huge primary engines fought to steady her descent into orbit around Ganymede. Saturn’s gravitational pull was massive but if they could land on the moon it would give them the protection they needed to work on replenishing their hydrogen supplies.

“All crew standby for important comms” it ordered.

Henderson sat up in his bunk and reached for his chewing tobacco. Stuffing a wad into his cheek he banged a fist against the bottom of the bunk above.

“Marcus, wake up” he shouted. “You’re going to want to hear this.”

Marcus stirred, mumbling incomprehensibly.

“Serious man, wake up.” Henderson barked.

“Okay, okay” Marcus said throwing back his blanket and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m awake see. God man how serious can it be after what we just witnessed?”

Henderson chewed slowly before responding. There are some things you’re never going to forget seeing and what the Callista had just done was one of them.

“They’re going to say it was for the best, you’ll see. They will have some excuse for what they did but there is no justification for it. None at all. You don’t do that to an entire planet you just don’t.”

Marcus jumped down from the top bunk and walked over to the small sink in the corner of the room.

“What do we know man” he said filling a cup with water. “Things have been messed up for so long now.

“Messed up?” Henderson snapped. “My god Marcus what we just did goes way beyond just ‘messed up’ surely you see that.”

“Honestly?” said Marcus taking a drink.

“That a question?” Henderson asked.

Marcus put the cup down on the edge of the sink. He was a tall lean man, about 6 foot 2 with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. A large green and black tattoo of a snake across his right shoulder seemed to writhe as he moved.

“You know how I feel about Earth” he said, “it’s not my home and they are not my people, I’m a colonial and I’m proud of it. My allegiance is to my family and my clan and the only reason I’m on this ship is because I need the money.”

“Do you really feel nothing? ” Henderson asked. He knew Marcus was an off worlder and like so many of his people he hated Earth but even he must feel something, surely.

“Sorry no, I don’t” he said defiantly, pulling out a chair at the small metal table in the middle of the room and sitting down. The ship lurched suddenly and then, with a roar of the engines , was again steadied. “Earth have done nothing but steal from us and use us Henderson” he continued, “I almost feel relieved that it’s over. Things will have to be different now.”

Before Henderson could respond the comms sounded again.

“This is Captain Grenville” it began. After a lengthy pause it continued. “Today you witnessed the destruction of our home planet…”

Mission Primary Part 3

“You can be the moon and still be jealous of the stars.”
-Gary Allan

I’m going to tie them to M’s prompts this month. The prompt was “The stars stood on standby”. Mostly it gave me this horrible sense of foreboding so that is where I am letting it take the story which the prompts are dictating to a degree.

Part 1 can be found here.

Part 2 can be found here.

Stella rolled the smooth white pebble between her fingers as she watched the sea lapping at her feet. The sky seemed to melt into the grey of the water and it was hard to tell where one started and the other ended.

“So where to now Jess?” she asked not looking up. “What are we meant to do?” It would be dark soon and the nights were getting colder.

At 18 Jess was 5 few years older than she was, so her natural instinct was to let her make all the decisions. Jess had found her scavenging for food in one of the empty houses in the neighbourhood and helped her to bury her parents and had looked after her ever since.

“I’m not really sure Stella” she answered looking up and down the pebbled beach “we probably need somewhere to settle in for a few days to rest up and then work out how we get off planet.”

“You think we need to leave?” Stella answered throwing the pebble into the sea. “You really don’t think things are going to get better then?”

She really liked Stella, she was a good kid and had been through a lot but despite all the death and destruction things still seemed to surprise her. Stella envied that about her.

“The Transporters are all shut down and we haven’t seen any sign of Fed forces for weeks now. They’ve abandoned us for sure. There aren’t even any Fed instructions coming through on the short wave anymore.”

“But why would they leave us Jess” Stella asked looking confused. “The government are meant to be making everything better.”

“Stella…” her voice trailed away as she looked up at the sky, the clouds parting and stars already visible in the inky black of night. “Stars Stella” she said pointing. Jess looked up and smiled.

“Dad knew all about the stars” she said. “He used to take me up to the observatory in the summer and teach me all about them.”

“Do you know which they are then?” Jess asked.

Stella laughed, “No I just went because it meant I could stay up past bedtime and it was a chance to spend time with him.”

“I think it might be Sirius” Jess said smiling. “I remember from school that it was the brightest.”

They both stood quietly for a while. The idea of school and family and a normal life seemed such a distant memory now.

“Are stars supposed to move” Jess asked breaking the silence, the sky now rapidly turning dark. “Because that really does look like it’s getting bigger”

“Do you think it could be someone coming to rescue us?” Jess asked, her voice filled with hope.

“Maybe sure, why not” said Stella. “We’re not sick so why wouldn’t they want to help us.”

The light in the sky grew brighter still and was soon surrounded by others and a silhouette began to emerge high in the atmosphere. The

“That’s no star Stella, that’s a ship of some sort.” Jess said excited. It’s pretty high up but it’s definitely a Fed ship. No one else has anything that big.” It had been weeks since they had seen anything up in the sky, or on land for that matter and Jess knew a Fed battle ship when she saw one. They were always on the news a few years ago when they made first contact with the Genaris and everybody thought it was going to be the end of the world.

Jess walked forward as if to try get a better look, the waves lapping at her feet and covering her boots. “Its huge Jess” she said smiling. “They surely have room for us” and she began to wave her arms.

Stella laughed. “Jess, Jess they can’t see us from up there. They’re miles and miles up.”

“Really?”

“Yes” Jess answered. “But at least they’ve returned and that’s surely a good thing. She stepped into the shallow surf and took Stella’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Don’t worry Jess” she said, her voice calm. “It will all be over soon.”

Mission Primary Part 2 – Room 101

I’m going to tie them to M’s prompts this month. The prompt was “Chewing Chewbacco” which had me thinking about Star Wars obviously but more the type of American you see in folms that so enjoys stuffing a wad of the stuff in his cheek and chewing and spitting the vile black filth back out. This had me thinking about cowboys and then engineers and then suddenly the piece below emerged.

Part 1 can be found here.

The Callista rounded the moon slowly, the shadow of her massive bulk creeping across it’s surface as her primary engines exploded into life and propelled her towards earth. Henderson steadied himself against one of the huge fuel lines and stared out into space, wiping his hands on the rag he kept in his belt and spitting a mouth full of thick black tobacco onto the service deck.

“You boys ready for this?” he asked to anyone willing to listen. “You know what this is right?” No one looked up. Henderson was always spouting off about one conspiracy theory or another.

“This is then end boys, I’m telling you” he continued. “Rumour is that it’s now spread so far that they need to frag the whole damn planet to stop it.”

“Shut the hell up Henderson” Franks barked back looking out from under the Interceptor he was working on. “Some of us still have people down there. There is just no way the brass would do that.”

“I’m telling you” Henderson answered spitting again and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Last few weeks have seen all Fed troops recalled. You saw how many ships there were dark side. The whole fleet has puled back.”

Something about his words rang true. “You really think?” Franks asked sliding out and getting to his feet. He walked across to where Henderson stood.

“Afraid so man” he answered. “Seems pretty obvious to me, just look at what a mess it is down there. They can’t stop the spread and now they’re worried about it getting off world.” He paused waiting for his words to sink in, he did love an audience.

Franks rubbed his chin. “Shit man, my cousin is still in Singapore working on the docks there.”

“They already had to shut down the dimensional transporters planet wide when the Washington site was over run, there’s no way they can risk it reaching the colonies.”

Turning to look out across the deck towards where the earth could be seen through the launch bay Franks felt Henderson stood next to him. It was oddly reassuring. “You really think they’ll frag the whole thing?” he asked.

Henderson put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll know soon enough.”

Mission Primary – Room 101

Stomach pains…

I’m going to tie them to M’s prompts this month. The prompt was “The explosive egg hunt” which had me thinking about the film alien and all this eggs filled with creatures just ready to burst out and crawl inside you…then there was the idea of the easter egg – the type that gets hidden in games and such. Anyway this is what came of it. Seems my preamble is longer that the piece itself.

Caleb brought the ship out of sub space, her beam engines humming into life as the faster than light drives fired down.

Desi unbuckled protesting “Dad’s going to kill us Cal, we shouldn’t be out here.”

“Oh relax sis” Cal answered “he’ll never know. I just wanted to check.”

Cal tapped the holo screen that appeared before him and initiated a scan of the area. “there must be something out here” he insisted. “It’s meant to be out here somewhere. The old charts in the vault pinpoint it to this sector.”

Desi looked out from the cockpit across the inky blackness of space, stars littered the darkness but nothing more. “Cal there’s nothing here, let’s go home.”

Cal turned to her, frustration etched across his face. “But the charts Desi, why do you think Dad kept them locked away. It’s for a reason surely.”

Desi looked up at the holo screen, it blinked confirming what she already knew.

“Earth isn’t out here Cal, It’s been gone for 8oo years now.”

A Few Days Off

Those of you who have followed me for any length of time will know I love to post. Since I discovered blogging I have enjoyed almost every minute and am happy posting as many times a day as inspiration takes me.

For the last few days though I have taken some time away and just let a few scheduled pieces trickle through. I’m still as inspired as I was but I just felt frightfully tired and was busier than normal at work and therefore decided to concentrate on simply sleeping more. I have never been one for a lot of sleep but this week I have craved it terribly and am thoroughly enjoying the idea of an early night. Instead of the 5 or 6 I usually get by on I have been aiming to get more in the region of 7 to 8 and I feel a lot better for it.

I am looking forward to getting back into the swing of things with my writing but right now I am just going to keep writing down ideas and scribbling in my notebook and I will return to writing in a couple of days.

Right now though it’s time for bed 🙂

The Doctor will see you now – Room 101

Stomach pains…

Alan awoke slowly. It was not something he was used to given that most days started abruptly with a 5.00am alarm. Being rudely awakened was usually immediately followed by contemplative wondering as to why he had not tried harder in school and a subsequent desire to be anywhere but where he was so this was a nice change.

So pleasant was the experience of waking naturally and finding himself greeted by a soft warm light filling the room that the unfamiliar surroundings did not seem to trouble him one bit. As his eyes grew accustomed to the brightness he realised that he was not at home in his own bed. He looked around and all he could make out were stark white walls on each side and an equally plain ceiling above. Confused, but not alarmed, he tried to sit up but found himself unable to do so. He was covered in what appeared to be a plain white sheet and despite feeling no restraints he lay quite motionless with the exception of the ability to move his neck and look about.

“Hello” he shouted. There was no echo. He waited. No response. “Hello, is anybody there?”

No reply came though the light did seem to brighten a little. He strained again to sit up, this time even a little grunt but he remained exactly where he was and chose instead to lay his head back down and stare at the ceiling.

All the usual thoughts you would expect to think upon finding yourself in such a place went through his head and he realised that he had precisely no answer to any of them. More curiously though he didn’t seem to care particularly. He was warm and comfortable and he felt quite at peace. After a while considering his surroundings the lights once again brightened, and there was a feint hiss as if someone had sneakily opened a bottle of soda. He attempted to look about but now not even his head would move.

“Hello” he offered.

A rather gruff “Snarkgarblevar untervardel” came the response.

Alan paused. “Er, hello” was the best he could muster.

The voice spoke again but this time seemed to transition from completely unintelligible to something that sounded very much like his second grade school teacher Mr Bloom. “Snarkgarblevar unter…senses..and you should find this mostly painless.”

The lights brightened again and he suddenly felt rather less comfortable. Lying quite still he caught movement in the corner of his eye and then without warning everything stopped making sense. Assuming any of it already was.

Stood before him, around seven foot tall and in a most vivid hue of blue was a creature that was most definitely not from round his way. Thick fur covered its body from head to foot and it had bright yellow eyes set deep in a face that had nothing that you could assume as a nose but had plenty of what you knew were teeth. Long sharp white teeth arranged in a deep red mouth in such a way that left you in no doubt that they were something to be feared and were not just for smiling pleasantly or gently nibbling on fruits, nuts and berries.

The sight of the creature combined with the words “mostly painless” made his bowels instantly grumble.

“Oh now come on” the creature insisted “no need to be so concerned this will be over in no time at all.”

Alan began to breathe rather heavily as it drew near.

“I am Doctor Berlastio” it said quite matter of fact. “And I will be taking charge of your probing today.”

“Oh good God” Alan exclaimed already attempting to clench his non responding bottom. “Must you really?” In no time at all he seemed to have accepted the fact of the being before him and was now more occupied with its desire to take a peek inside him.

“Oh absolutely I must” it insisted, the large rows of teeth still very much on show. “It’s all part of the programme you see, we simply must.”

“Programme?” Alan asked still attempting to find any part of his body – other than his head – that might respond to his orders to move.

“Oh Yes, yes. All very important. It’s the reason we’re here you see.” The Doctor answered. He seemed surprisingly willing to share the reasons for what Alan assumed was going to be most unpleasant, and whilst he had no previous experience of aliens of any description he had most definitely not expected them to be so forthcoming and polite.

“Er…” Alan hesitated. Perhaps if he kept it talking he might find a way out of this. “And why exactly are you here?” he asked.

The doctor paused and then his smile turned into something wholly more sinister looking. His fur seemed to bristle and his eyes narrowed.

“I shall let you into a little secret I think” it answered, “You wont remember any of this when we pop you back down on Earth anyway.”

Alan wanted to answer, to protest, but now found himself now unable to speak. Now no part of him responded.

Berlastio grinned. “We need somewhere to incubate our larvae obviously. Now lie back and relax, we will have you back in bed before your alarm goes off.”

New Britannia – Room 101

another place another time

A thick fog rolled in across the Thames as Big Ben chimed nine times.

“That’s locking up time I reckon” Darla said to her husband getting up from behind the counter and heading over to the shop door. It had been another quiet night, it always was when the pea-souper rolled in. “People just don’t being out in it do they.” She added.

“Uh-huh” Bran responded not looking up from his newspaper. He was very much looking forward to heading upstairs and putting his feet up.

Darla flipped over the sign on the door and reached for the top bolt, but before she could slide it closed the door burst open with such force that she was thrown backwards into the shelving at the end of the aisle and she collapsed to the floor with a scream.

“What the…” her husband exclaimed dropping his newspaper and standing from his chair as two men, dishevelled and dressed mostly in rags, burst through the door and headed straight for him. “Now just you wait a minute” he shouted without any fear seeing his wife’s legs protruding into the aisle.

“Just shut it and empty the till into the bag” the larger of the two shouted pulling a long metal blade from his belt and waving it wildly. The smaller squarer man reached across the counter and pushed a bag into his chest.

Darla rubbed her head and attempted to stand knocking cans to the floor, and both men turned to see her slip back down to the floor.

“Hurry up” the tall one shouted. “In the bag. Now”

With the contents of the till emptied into the bag the short man reached over and grabbed it and as he pulled back threw a wild square into the jaw of Bran dropping him to the floor. For a while he lay there, his head spinning and attempted to regain his feet. By the time he did the door of the shop stood open and Darla was steadying herself leaning against the aisle shelving.

“Are you okay” she asked walking slowly towards him as he leaned against the counter breathing heavily. He nodded.

“You?”

She smiled and rubbed her head.

“Takes more than that to upset me” she answered “Do you think we should call the police?”.

Bran reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “No, let them have it dear, there’s no wonder these humans are an endangered species the way they behave…”

Darling – Room 101

We all have a type, right?

As the rain fell outside, walls of neon reflected in the gathering dark pools, Aldous watched her from the warmth of his car. It was always so busy down here, a sea of umbrellas pushing through the main through way and hooded figures darting in the shadows as the distant thud of music mixed with the patter of rain and the hum of the vehicles buzzing along the street twenty feet from the ground.

He shifted excitedly in his seat, the sleek lines of his executive model car almost hidden from view as he parked up under the overhang of one of the old hab blocks that towered high into the night sky. Each of the huge steel and concrete monoliths that were dotted across the city housed a mix of nearly four thousand humans and other species from across the galaxy in the most awful of conditions, yet here at ground level, where quite literally you would find the lowest of society there was only one that he cared about.

Every day Aldous watched her from the same place as he headed to work. His mind raced when he saw her waiting on the corner, her blue skin bright against the dark of the permanent night of ground level. His imagination fired as he watched her walk back and forth waiting for her next customer and he imagined, as he had done so many times, those long slender legs wrapped around his back and the talons on her fingers digging into his flesh as she moved against him and her rough tongue slowly tasting the sweat on his skin.

He loosened his tie as a young human male, probably in his thirties, walked across to her. She stood a good two feet taller than him and as he reached into his pocket she placed an hand on his arm. He knew what would happen next, he had seen it endless times before yet even now it still filled him with such anger and jealousy.

“Mine” he muttered to himself “get your damn hands off of her she’s m…” but he didn’t finish, unable to speak as she took her client by the hand and led him through a dimly lit open door only a few metres from where she had been just moments before.

Aldous sat for some time, heart racing and obsessing about what she was probably doing to him. Slowly he reached to undo his belt but stopped as his comms beeped to indicate it was 8pm. He needed to get to work, people would be waiting.

He punched the car into life and barked out instructions.

“Alexa, take me to work”.

“Affirmative” she confirmed. “Destination set.”

The car pulled out from under the cover of the hab and slowly rose into the air, quickly syncing speed with the traffic above and joining the flow. It weaved its way through the other vehicles, the neon advertising boards lighting up the night and throwing their day glow hues into the darkness. He looked down and watched as the lower levels disappeared into murky nothing and sat back in his seat, eyes closed, and waited.

Alexa confirmed that he had reached his destination and the doors of the vehicle opened with a feint hiss. Aldous stepped out onto the landing pad and felt the wind on his face. He wandered across to the edge of the pad and looked out across the city. He loved being so high up, it gave you a real idea of just how vast the city was and with the sun still able to filter through this high up the late evening sun felt good.

“Were ready for you sir” came a voice accompanied by hurried footsteps. “Everyone is waiting.”

He turned to see a pretty dark haired assistant who’s name he could not quite remember.

“Thank you” he said taking a large leather book from her. “Claire isn’t it?”

“Karen” she answered, cheeks flushed. “It’s Karen.”

“Karen. Right, thank you Karen” Aldous said and disappeared through a door at the edge of the landing pad. He could still see her in his head, the rain falling and the neon blinking. He quickly skipped down two flights of stairs, straightening his tie and running over his notes in his head. Another assistant was waiting for him and she quickly ushered him towards a door at the end of a corridor.

“Thank you” he said politely, this time choosing not to get another name wrong, and stepped through the door and onto the large stage. He knew there were thousands of eyes focussed on him but he looked straight ahead and headed to the lectern. He carefully placed the book on it and opened it to the bookmarked page before composing himself and looking up.

“Good Evening” he said smiling broadly and standing tall. “My name is Aldous Emerick, I am the Pastor of The Holy Enlightened Church of Christ, and tonight we are going to be learning more about why these aliens are an abomination in the eyes of the Lord.”

Tenderness – Room 101

Coming soon to a future near you.

Captain Trexel was a rather large and imposing creature at the best of times, but when enraged was something beyond fierce and for most creature trouser soilingly terrifying.

“Enter” he barked at the rap on his quarters door, waiting and watching as Corporal Dartus entered and snapped to attention in front of the desk at which Trexel sat. “Explain yourself Corporal” he demanded.

The best Dartus could manage was a confused “Captain?”

“The Humans” Trexel shouted, “Explain your treatment of the humans boy. Reports suggest that you have not been treating them with kindness and compassion. They may be our property but we do not abuse them.”

Dartus stammered. “S-S-Sir I just thought that they didn’t matter give we have so many.”

Trexel stood, rising up to his full and thoroughly impressive 8 foot height. His lips smacked and teeth began to grind.

“Do you not get it boy” he snarled, “We need to treat them with kindness, tenderness and ensure they are comfortable and enjoy their time with us.”

“Sir, yes Sir” he responded.

“And besides” Trexel continued, “If you cause them undue stress by killing one of them for sports in full sight of the others their flesh becomes rather tough and most unpleasant to eat…”

Change of heart – Room 101

Well we probably deserve it.

Grand Marshall Gliebnar strolled onto the bridge of the Valdar Type 2 Imperial Cruiser with an air of a man that said today was the day that he would invade Earth and capture her for the glory of the Torzgar empire. If there was any doubt on the matter, which there most certainly was not, but if there was then the dossier in his hand confirmed precisely that and today was the day that he would invade earth and capture her for the glory of the Torzgar empire. It said it across the front. In a rather large and shouty font.

“Commander Dren” he said hands on hips staring out into the inky blackness. “Please confirm all stations ready and the fleet is ready for stage 1 invasion.”

Commander Dren paused and looked quite uncomfortable. He was sweating profusely and his norbel gland was throbbing rather intensely.

“Commander?” Gliebnar shouted turning to face him. “What is it, is there a problem?” The thick scales on his face seemed to ripple as he ground his teeth. He was a terrible teeth grinder.

Dren tried to speak. “I..it’s just that…”

“On come on man out with it” Gliebnar barked.

He held out a paper, his claws shaking as Gliebnar snatched it from him. “It’s about the Humans Grand Marshall. A paper prepared by the Office of Alien Landing and Occupation. I think perhaps we may want to reconsider our approach.”

“Our approach?” Gliebnar snapped. “The same approach that has worked on endless civilisations that have succumbed to the might of the mighty Torzgar empire?” As he said this he stood a little taller, his shoulders back and his chest out.

“Well yes sire it’s just that they seem rather difficult sir.”

“Difficult? Dren I will have you know that they will succumb and surrender like the countless that have gone before and be assimilated into the empire.”

Dren backed away slightly wary of the Grand Marshall’s temper. He has once seen him beat a man until he cried for his mother for no reason other than a request to attend his own wedding. “Please sir” he stammered, “please just read the report.”

Gliebnar paused. “You seem convinced Dren” he answered, “I shall take a look then” and settled into his chair and began to scan through the report.

After a short while he looked up. “Are we sure this is right?” he asked.

“We are sir.”

“And this has been verified. A planet of hundreds of individual tribes. All with their own leaders?”

“Yes sir.”

“And despite the significant resources the majority live in poverty?”

“Hard to believe Grand Marshall I realise, but they are in many ways little more than savages.”

Gliebnar placed the report down on his lap.

“Thank you Dens” he said rising to his feet and reaching for the comms. “I think perhaps extermination will prove far easier…”

Callista – Room 101

Just a little something.

Spencer stirred slowly as the cryo pod hissed and opened, his head pounding and the cabin lights causing him to reach up and cover his eyes. He breathed deep trying to quell the nausea. Hauling derilium ore across the galaxy was great money and the chance to see the colonies was something so few Earth born would ever experience but he’d never get used to the effects of coming out of deep sleep no matter how many times he did it.

Still squinting he checked the readout on the small display on his wrist. Coordinates and timings checked out, he was back home. Excited, he pulled himself from the pod, head spinning and stumbled over to the bridge, desperate to get a glimpse of the planet he had left behind nearly 150 years ago.

“What the…” he mumbled steadying himself against the back of a large chair. He looked down at the control panel in front of him, lights blinking.

“Calista, confirm destination coordinates reached.” He said stabbing at a flashing red button. The proximity sensors were on overload.

A flat calm voice responded. “Coordinates for Earth orbit reached, local year is 2187.”

They had to be wrong. “Calista please recalibrate and verify coordinates.”

“Coordinates for Earth orbit reached” she repeated.

Struggling forward he walked slowly over to the long wide window at the far end of the deck. Where there should have been a planet all there was rock and debris as far as he could see.

“Calista where is Earth?” he asked. There was a brief pause.

“Coordinates for Earth orbit reached” she answered. “Records show no transmissions from Earth for 30 solar cycles.”

“Scan for local signals” he instructed. Something must have survived whatever had happened.

Ore freighters didn’t have a crew or captain, programmed to track to their destination coordinates and only wake the solitary crew member – the engineer – in the event of significant technical difficulties. Obviously Earth being rubble was for some reason not classed as a significant.

“No signals across any frequency detected” she answered. “Scanning complete”

He stood and considered what to do next, his head still fuzzy from the effects of spending 70 year frozen as he tore across the galaxy.

“Calista, estimate return route to nearest Earth outpost, factor in remaining cryo reserves.” HE knew he didn’t have enough for a full trip back to the nearest colonies but reserves should get him somewhere he could refuel and refill the cryo.

It took her longer than he had expected. “Calista?”

“Estimates indicate that with current reserves and running STL drives at 10 percent to maximise remaning fuel it will take approximately 22 years to reach the nearest outpost at Sentauri.”

“And how much capacity have we got in cryo? I really don’t want to be awake for 22 years with just you for company, no offence intended”

“None taken” Calista responded. “Reserves will permit 5 years of additional deep sleep.”

“That’s it? Five?”

“Affirmitive, Five”

Spencer sat down in the large chair and stared out into space and wondered whether the ships computer had solitaire built in…

The number of the beast

Post 666

This is my 666th post.

It should be something creepy or evil shouldn’t it. What actually sprung to mind though was growing up in conservative white South Africa in the eighties and there being a general hysteria about the number.

From those ridiculous eighties Pentecostal preachers howling and wailing about the number of the beast to searching Iron Maiden album covers for secret 666 markings it was a number that was just often there in popular culture.

Kids would joke about it, bushy bearded racist Afrikaner pastors would warn against it and eighties horror films featured it heavily. If you’ve seen the omen you will surely recall the head shaving bit where the numbers are revealed.

In school I recall sitting through lessons where we were made quite aware of the dangers of all things modern and particularly anything relating to Iron Maiden and quite specifically ‘Stairway to Heaven’ by Led Zepplin which, if our teacher was to be believed, would inevitably lead you to all manner of beastly activities including masturbation, smoking marijuana and fornication.

Makes me realise that we really have not come that far as a species when we pay such heed to superstitious nonsense though ‘Stairway’ does remain one of my favourite tracks to this day.

Happy Friday 🙂

Gettysberg – Room 101

The smell of blood and gunpowder mixed with the crack and fizz of musket balls filled Abel’s senses

The smell of blood and gunpowder mixed with the crack and fizz of musket balls filled Abel’s senses. Cold steel met soft flesh and a young lad, no more than 18 years old, collapsed lifeless next to him – dark blood seeping into his grey uniform. His heart thundered like the endless roar of cannons trained on their position from the ridge and he took a drink from his canteen.

Looking over to where General Lee stood he reached for his revolver. It was time to end this war.

He raised his revolver but before he had chance to squeeze the trigger there was a flash of light and he found himself back on the table in the departure centre.

“Change of plans Abel” came a voice over the comms, “were going to let the war continue a bit longer.”

Me and Judge Dredd

Happy borthday Judge Dredd, 41 years and going strong!

If I count the things that are particularly precious to me 2000ad is right up there. I mean right up there, perhaps not above the kids but definitely well ahead of a number of the members of my wider family.

Not sure what it is?

Well 2000AD is a weekly British Science fiction comic, first published in 1977 and probably most famous for bringing us Judge Dredd.

From my earliest age I loved the characters and the artwork and a thread throughout my life for as long as I can remember. I remember first reading it in the early eighties growing up in South Africa and the impact it had was huge, feeding my love of science fiction and it is something that has never left me.

When we had our first child we had very little and only £600 in the bank and the opportunity to buy the entire 30 year back catalogue presented itself. Price? You guessed it. £600. I remember driving 200 miles to Bristol in a battered old Vauxhall Corsa with the last of our savings and loading them into the car from floor to roof. You any idea how many comics that is? Well now I have 40 years worth plus some others and believe me, storing more than 2500 comic books is no easy feat. That is every issue from number 1 in 1977.

Ive also developed a love of comic artwork over the years, and will write about it again in a future post but to feed my love of all things 2000Ad I have amassed a pretty sizeable collection of original comic art which I absolutely adore. The photo below shows A Clint Langley original above the printed version.

Have I ever mentioned my tattoos? No? Well this is one of my 2000ad themed ones. A quite gorgeous Judge Dredd on my left arm done by Lee Rudeboy Reynolds at Rude studios in Leeds. A truly marvellous artist. I have another on my right that I will show you another time,

My love gets worse though. I have two children, and both have middle names named after things that really matter to me. I will tell more about my eldest’s some other time but I can confirm that my youngest’s middle name is Joseph, named after Judge Joseph Dredd.

So as you can see, a real influence in my life and there is still nothing as fabulous as the most recent copy dropping through my letter box each week…

A moment for reflection

Oh blessed relief

Did I mention I like to colour? No? Oh I do. I particularly like to colour sweary things. I try to stay in the lines but I’m not really one for being told what to do. Here’s one I did earlier. I am also rather excited about a Judge Dredd one I bought recently which I will show you at some point.

It’s rather therapeutic you know and certainly worth exploring. Here’s one I did earlier 🙂

Do you dabble at all?

NRA says “guns best way to fight guns”

NRA calls for McDOnalds to lead national fight against obesity

Today, the NRA’s Wayne Lapierre hit back at critics who he feels are using the death of countless Americans to guns to deprive him of his second amendment rights to keep a huge stash of assault rifles in the boot of his car just in case things ‘kick off’ next time he goes to Walmart.

Speaking to a crowd of conservative Americans he opened with a short prayer where he asked Jesus to “bless this gathering of real Americans, not the ones that look like they need a good wash” and also beseeches his Lord and Saviour to pour out his mercies on the new AR15 model due out next year because it is “Seriously bad ass and will make America both safer and greater. So safe. So great”

Lapierre, a previously long standing advocate of “thoughts and prayers” in the fight against school massacres, took a standing ovation when he made an impassioned and compelling case for the use of guns to prevent the use of guns.

“Murder in schools?” he insisted, “let’s arm teachers. Murder at Disneyland? No problem, let’s hook up Mickey with some serious stopping power to stop those dirty lefties.”

In a rousing finale he held a baby in his left arm and in his right hand a bone handled desert eagle, and with an American flag lowered behind him and the star spangled banner playing he slowly licked the barrel and proclaimed “Tastes like freedom baby!”

Z is for Zombie

Is it weird to admit that I have something of a plan in mind should there be a zombie apocalypse?

I will admit that for a long time I have been of the mind that the world would certainly benefit from a zombie outbreak outbreak. Maybe it isn’t a full on extinction event but just something to focus people a little and perhaps thin the population. In the past we had wars that would do that but these days war has turned into an almost corporate event and just doesn’t do the job it once did. There was a time when you could also rely on pestilence but again, we seem to mostly have that under control at the moment and as a result (whether directly or not I am yet to decide) It now takes me at least 20 minutes to get to work. There are so many vehicles on the road these days driving in the wrong lane or just generally being annoying that I am pretty sure that with an even low level event that could well be cut to 15 with the resulting thinning of the population.

If there was to be an outbreak I feel pretty good about my chances, and whilst I am not one for squirrelling away supplies or constructing a bolthole in the garden, I do have a plan that I have been putting together over the years. I know where I would get supplies, and I am confident that I could secure the house and surrounding area to keep anything but the most determined brain hungry creature at bay. I have a destination out of town that I know for certain would be a pretty great place to ride out the apocalypse and should I for any reason not be able to get out of the street I know which of the neighbours I need to deal with and in what order to ensure that precious resources aren’t wasted.

And just to be clear, the bloke at number 6 who insists on parking badly…top of my list in case we run particularly low on food.

Anyway,there is more but I am not giving it away. Make your own plan!

Happy Monday

Y is for You, yes YOU

What makes me follow…

I’ve been doing this for a while now and I am often conflicted with how best to use my time as I want to read as many people as possible on here but the truth of the matter is that simply is not possible. This is not intended as an excuse, but rather an acknowledgement and from that stems the question – how will I decide who to follow and read.

Turns out, for me, it’s about the author and not necessarily the work. Connections with authors seems to matter as much to me as their work, and if that person allows you into their world in a way that is more than just the words for that day then I find myself wanting to return to find out more about them. The most compelling blogs I have followed are also quite often those where the author takes time to build the relationship with their reader. They post and reply to comments in a meaningful way, they show an interest in your opinion and they seem genuinely interested in engaging rather than simply throwing a work out there and waiting for the likes.

Now that’s not always the case, and obviously an interest in the work of the person helps and if that interest extends to enjoyment all the better. I enjoy the odd bit of poetry, and have re-blogged some and will be re-blogging more of my favourites in coming weeks. Recently though I stumbled upon this chap who I not only enjoyed immensely but also followed because his poetry was so damned good. The rhyming and metre and flow was just some so ridiculously enjoyable I felt compelled to.

Anyway, not sure where that came from because I was going to write about Yoga and people who do yoga and yoga pants but that will have to wait for another day.

Echoes of Mars – Room 101

“You see that girl” he said looking over at a canary is a small cage on a dresser next to the window. “you see those vapour trails? That was me once.”

Amos sat in the old rocker looking out across the open fields in front of the farm house. He watched wisps of clouds dancing across the sky and jet trails slowly dissolving into the blue and remembered a time, long ago now, when he was more than the frail old man now living out the last of his days watching the seasons pass from his window. Snippets of another life he was no longer sure were even his.

“You see that girl” he said looking over at a canary is a small cage on a dresser next to the window. “you see those vapour trails? That was me once.”

The small yellow bird cheeped almost as if in response.

His eyes weren’t what they once were but he could still make out the feint outline of the city in the distance and he watched as shuttles, from this distance mere specks, took off and headed upwards towards the east pacific low orbit station.

There was a flash of silver as the sun caught the side of a large long haul transporter rising slowly upwards and he remembered, not at all fondly, the early days long before anti-grav when they had to strap you to a rocket just to get you into orbit.

He didn’t miss the take offs but he each landing was fresh in his mind as the day he had made them

“Good times” he mumbled to himself rolling a small red rock no larger than a thumbnail between his fingers, a memento of his last trip to Mars smuggled home and his most prized possession. He rocked slowly and pulled a blanket over his knees. He looked at it and his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. He had kept it locked away for decades but today, today he wanted to hold it. It was softer to the touch than he remembered, perhaps from being kept in the old cigarette tin in the dresser.

“I went there you know” he told his canary. He had told her uncountable times but he didn’t know that, not anymore. His once sharp mind was now a lottery when it came to the things he remembered and the things he did not. “I saw sunrise over the Martian planes, before we stopped going there and trust me, it was a sight to behold. Miles of red, like a sea of blood stretched out before us.”

The canary cheeped and cleaned her feathers, then hopped down to the bottom of the cage.

“Oh yes” he continued proudly, fragments of past glories now darting about his mind. “I was a real American hero indeed.”

The canary chirped again, and then for a second time as Amos suddenly stiffened, a look of pain etched across his face. His right arm reached for his chest and the small rock fell from his hand. Amos gasped as the bird continued to chirp loudly, now in full cardiac arrest. Hands clenched into fists the life ebbed slowly from his body as his eyes glazed over and with a final gasp Amos McCartney drifted into nothing.

And with that final, his body now relaxed the chair rocked forward crushing the small rock fragment, red dust smeared on the carpet beneath the runner of the old rocking chair. The canary chirped wildly, hopping up to the small wooden perch and then back to the cage floor but there was nobody to hear it or heed it’s warnings.

Slowly, spreading out from the spot under the chair a red stain began to creep. It first engulfed the chair and Amos, turning them a dark ochre red and, moments later, the wood and flesh and plaid blanket on his knees suddenly collapsed into dust. The canary chirped wildly, flying around the small cage panicked.

Outwards it then began to spread and in a moment the chirps of the canary were silenced…

Departmental Duties 2 – Room 101

PART 2

Jeremiah stepped out into the night pulling his coat collar around his ears as the rain continued to fall, iridescent pools forming across the open paved area in front of the building that lead to the cross town zip. The Immigration centre was in the heart of the market district, a leftover from decades before when this was part of a vibrant business area hosting head offices of banks and financial institutions from across the planet. Now it was very much a sea of stalls, food vendors and a pulsating night live that catered for the most basic tastes and cravings for creatures from across all four systems. High rises had been converted for accommodation and the suits were mostly long gone.

The main road through the area was a sea of neon painted against the wall of converted hab-blocks towering high into the grey skies above. Across from the immigration building, illuminated only by the crack and fizz of the day glow signs, he could make out the silhouettes of a tall Carillion and a small group of Thracians.

“What a joke” he mumbled to himself. Earth had welcomed them, gave them refuge and saved them from the ravages of their own worlds, but now they had taken over huge swathes of the city and people like him – humans, born of Earth – were an endangered species in some parts.

“Hey handsome” came a voice from the shadows as he crossed towards the Zip station. “You been working late? You looking for something special?”

Jeremiah turned towards the source of the voice. It was a Carillion. Humanoid in basic form but standing 8 foot tall with bright blue scaled skin they were quite something. Her voice rolled with an enticing melody. It was almost a song and Jeremiah paused for a moment.

“No, no I don’t.” He answered sharply. “I have a wife.”

She sensed reservation in his voice. She know his type. Hated them and their kind but couldn’t resist the lure of something exotic. “You sure baby” she answered smiling. She motioned towards a door lit by a single white light. “My home is your home.”

Jeremiah walked slowly over. There was a reason the Carillions were so popular, he’d heard the men in the office talking about them. “Show me” he said, a snarl on his face

She placed a hand on the side of his head. “Close your eyes baby”.

Jeremiah obeyed and in a moment he felt her inside his head, images of writhing flesh and darkest desires flooding his senses. He could taste her on his tongue. He could feel her long slender fingers on his skin.

“Stop” he shouted opening his eyes grabbing her arm.

She smiled at him and lowered her arm. “It’s okay baby I understand, I’ve seen your thoughts. I know how you feel about us. It’s okay”

He released her arm and stood staring up at her. He wanted it. He wanted her. He had a thousand reasons to head home but right now all he could think of was the thoughts she’d put in his head.

“How much?” he asked.

She reached for his hand and opened the door. “A hundred and fifty Credits for everything.”

He reached into his pocket and checked his wallet.

“I have one request” he said putting it back into his pocket.

“Yes baby of course, whatever you desire” she answered leading him through the door and up a small flight of stairs.

His mouth dry and pulse racing he followed her into a small room. There were threadbare carpets on the floor and a bed along one wall. On the opposite side of the room was a screen draped with a silk gown. The walls were bare save for a long mirror and a crucifix above the sink in the corner.

Jeremiah reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet and paid her. He then took out his phone and sent a message to his wife telling her he would be home late and put it back away.

He looked up at her as she caressed his face.

“So what was that request you had then“ she asked, her voice filling his head.

He paused. He hated himself. “I want you to hurt me…”

Departmental Duties 1 – Room 101

“Carillions are awful at paperwork” he said to himself opening the file on the clan connections. That was it. That’s what felt wrong, this application just looked too good. “What are you hiding buddy?”

Jeremiah pushed his chair back, puffed out his cheeks and put his hands behind his head. Just this case to finish and then he would head out for something to eat and then go home. He sighed and looked out across the ofice and noticed he was alone, the three long rows of pods long emptied for the day. As usual he was first in and last out.

“No wonder the detention centres are full” he mumbled to himself.

He scanned the data on the holo-screen before him. Everything looked okay on the surface but something about the case made him uneasy. There were no outstanding warrants or red flags from across any of the four known systems, he had clan already settled on the east coast and his paperwork was faultless. He hadn’t even had any run ins in the centre which was rare for his type.

He chewed on a pen as he went through every page of the settlement application, but he couldn’t find anything solid.

Like so many Carillions he had found his way to earth after fleeing his home to escape the persecution of the Tardaron Federation, and whilst the central Earth Government wanted to help they’d been swamped in the three years following first contact so had brought in tight regulations to ensure the other systems weren’t just shipping their problems to Earth.

Now didn’t care for either race particularly but the Carillions had provided the earth government with some pretty serious military tech so for now they were the good guys.

Jeremiah sighed. As much as he wanted to reject the case he couldn’t find anything. He tossed the pen across he desk, pressed the ‘Authorise’ button and shut it down.

“Alexa, what time is it” he asked rubbing his eyes.

“The time is Eight thirty five” came the response.

Jeremiah got up from his chair, pushed it back under his desk and headed for the door. There would be more to process tomorrow, he’d meet his rejection quota then.