Guy Stewart's Blog, page 105
February 12, 2017
Slice of PIE: North, South, East, West – Beyond the Four Corners of THIS World

Fandom: We Are the World – Our international panel discusses experiences in fandom, including similarities and differences that have surprised them most when attending events and talking to other fans, both on and offline.
Christopher Kastensmidt – of German ancestry, he currently lives, works, and writes in BrazilTakayuki Tatsumi – Japanese professor and author of SF, in particular, cyberpunkArkady Martine – aka AnnaLinden Weller, author and scholar from the USRon Yaniv – publisher of the magazine Chalomot Be’aspamia (original Israeli science fiction and fantasy stories)Carolina Gomez Lagerlof – works in Sweden as a patent examiner for pharmaceuticalsMs. Clare McDonald-Sims – a reader and collector of SF books, digests and pulp. “…a serial committee member and volunteer for fan clubs and smaller conventions in Melbourne, Australia.”
Brazil, Japan, US, Israel, Sweden, Australia – good job whoever put together the team!
Confession: I’ve been to exactly three SF conventions, Diversicon (http://www.diversicon.org/), MarsCon (https://marscon.org/2017/goh.php), and MiniCon (http://mnstf.org/minicon52/) all in Minnesota. Oh, I went to one in like…North Dakota, too, once long, long ago. I’m by no means an expert on international writers.
I CAN say that I’ve had two stories performed by the YA podcast, CAST OF WONDERS based in England, I have a time-travel short story in the Scottish SF Magazine, SHORELINES OF INFINITY; I used to be published by eBook publisher, MuseItUp, which is based in Canada.
So I do know a teensy bit about the international speculative fiction community. I’ve read (attempted to read) lots of British and Canadian SF, I tried Finnish SF (Hannu Rajaniemi), and of course, I’ve read SOLARIS by Stanislaw Lem; and I just placed SHINE on hold at the library which is a collection of positive SF by writers from around the world. This article at the SFWA site has some interesting comments -- http://www.sfwa.org/2010/03/where-is-international-sf/, but it’s pretty outdated.
More recently, Chinese science fiction, primarily through Chinese-American SF writer Ken Liu, has risen in popularity. He’s won several of SF’s major awards both for his own work and for the translation of the novels of Liu Cixin. Maureen F. McHugh also wrote her first novel CHINA MOUNTAIN ZHANG in a universe where the US was taken over by China, and won Tiptree, Lambda, and Locus awards.
I find it somewhat strange that for whatever reason, Canadian SF has been lumped together with American SF; though Mexican SF is excluded as something different and seems to be rare – at least as far as I can see. Mexican SF writer Gabriel Trujillo Muñoz wrote in an email, “Beginning in 1990 . . . there was a conscientious intent to create a science fiction community . . . it didn't take root…[and he] sees a boom that is over and a situation where ‘even though all the great Mexican writers have practiced it [science fiction] . . . . [they] are ashamed to say it in public.’…he sees a movement that has disbanded and a genre that continues to struggle to be noticed in the national literature scene.” (http://strangehorizons.com/non-fiction/articles/terra-incognita-a-brief-history-of-mexican-science-fiction/)
African SF writers look to be getting more exposure in the coming months, starting last year in July in a series of interviews on the website, boingboing: http://boingboing.net/2016/07/14/100-african-science-fiction-wr.html
While many countries with wealthier populations seem to be producing science fiction, what about Iranian SF? Yemeni SF? The ten poorest countries on Earth – all of them in Africa (http://www.cheatsheet.com/business/10-of-the-richest-and-poorest-countries-in-the-world.html/?a=viewall) might come up in the series I noted above, even the wealthiest countries don’t seem to all have an active SF writer. I can’t name a Qataran SF writer off the top of my head, nor a Singaporean SF writer, either. South Korea – the most technologically advanced country on Earth – also seems to be lacking in its production of SF, though they DO have a strong fantasy presence.
What does it take to stimulate a culture to produce fiction that examines the future? What cultures have a concept of the extraterrestrial – and is that concept tied to the “alien” being from somewhere outside the dominant culture? Why did SF die in Mexico, but is now flourishing in China? Where are the other science fiction writers?
Lots to think about. Much more to read. Maybe more to write about…
Program Book: https://midamericon2.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/MACII-PP-Interior-Final-HiRes.pdf
Image: http://www.isfdb.org/wiki/images/a/ae/INTNTLSFJUN1968.jpg
Published on February 12, 2017 06:58
February 9, 2017
MARTIAN HOLIDAY 96: Aster of Opportunity

Aster Theilen, current Consort of the Mayor of Opportunity, Mayor-for-Life, Etaraxis Ginunga-Gap said, “When will we reach the orphan’s quarters?”
“They don’t have quarters, dear; and they’ve been with us most of the time we’ve been down here,” said her father, Abedne Halle-Theilen. They reached the last light in the tunnel. Illumination spilled through an arch from a huge room. As they passed through, they stopped under a ceiling so high, it disappeared into inky darkness. Small, rubber wheeled cars, standing alone or hitched together in trains of two to ten, had been neatly parked, backed into charging units.
In the harsh light, Aster saw dark blue artificial humans on the seats, sometimes cramming six or seven into a single car. They were utterly silent. Her father began, “Be…”
Aster cut him off, “No drama, Dad. This is the saddest day of my life. Let it be for now.”
He closed his mouth and nodded slowly as Aster stepped farther into the circle of carts, crossed it and stood in front of the one on the other side. She bowed to the four Artificial Humans seated before her. They stared at her, neither hostile nor accepting. Their faces betrayed nothing. Though they looked to be in their early twenties, they could be anywhere from fresh out of the vats, to real-time early twenties. Some of the “vat-grown” were created to be life-time companions, servants, and nannies for those who could afford to have them grown. Most had a design lifespan of two decades, though she’d heard that some were granted a span of however many years they could manage to live with the understanding that if they no longer served their purpose, they could be disposed of or simply terminated.
“There’s an entire underground industry that sells reusable intis,” he used the vulgar slang, “or ay-aychs, if you prefer.” He fixed her with a long look, adding, “Seeing you’re in elevated company now, perhaps I should just say, Artificial Humans.”
Aster scowled, “Dad? What’s going on?”
He shook his head sadly, “Nothing. That’s what worries me. I thought you’d be able to make changes in Opportunity; maybe help the Christian community – and the Muslims, Hindu, Jews, and Buddhists maybe even the ay-aychs.” He sighed. “I had very high hopes for you.”
She shook her head, pursed her lips, then said, “I haven’t told you everything, Father.”
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “I can’t tell you what’s going on in the Pylon. I don’t want to tell you what’s going on there.”
“Why can’t…”
She held up her hand. “Because it would place you in all kinds of danger. I am doing exactly what you hoped I would do, but it’s not going to happen fast. There’s a tremendous amount of groundwork we need to lay before anything important can happen – and I’m doing what I can until then.” She gestured to the blue faces regarding her solemnly. “They are why I came here with you. I know how much you’ve invested in their lives. Now I need for them to do something for me – I am making a request of them, and of you, Dad, as the Consort of Mayor-for-Life, Etaraxis Ginunga-Gap.”
He looked startled then stepped back, sweeping a bow to her. “Then speak, your highness.”
“You’re teasing, but in my place, what I am about to say has the effect of law. It can only be withdrawn or contradicted by my husband, the Mayor of Opportunity.”
“You’re kidding…”
“Not at all, Dad. Members of the Artificial Human community, oppressed by those of us who are natural-born, I request and require,” she turned slowly meeting the eyes of every Artificial Human she could see, then said, “that you no longer take your orders from my father. You take orders only from me – or a duly appointed mouthpiece of mine, who will only act when he or she presents a sigil representing my Voice.” She looked at her dad and said, “Sorry. It’s necessary for the plan.” She spoke loudly, “Please signify your understanding and acceptance of my request and requisition by raising your right hand.” A moment later every hand was raised, every face solemn. She turned to her father and said, “Sorry, Daddy. You’ve been voted out.”
Image: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/pv5BzHM3TJ8/hqdefault.jpg
Published on February 09, 2017 19:31
February 7, 2017
IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 292

H Trope: Humans abduct aliens for nefarious purposesCurrent Event: http://www.squidoo.com/captureanalien
Strangely enough, GOOGLE will not allow me to search for “Humans abduct aliens”…which gave me the idea for this idea…
Cerys Finch was from England, an exchange student staying with a family in Minnesota. Elias Ian Serano is also an exchange student staying with another family nearby. He’s been trying to get her to go out with him for weeks, ever since the school hosted an Exchange Dinner with Honors Program families and the exchange students at the school.
She thinks he’s cute and all, but he’s not her type. She tries to explain, but he’s insistent and she reported his behavior to the school counselor. That was yesterday…
That night, Cerys is up late and hears noises outside. Going to a backyard window where the family’s house looks out over a state park reserve, she sees wildly flickering lights. Looking down, she sees her host family – mom, dad and three young adult men she’s never seen; older kids who no longer live at home. The five of them have something in a net that is struggling wildly. Hand to her mouth, she sees what she thinks at first is a bear.
Then she sees Elias Ian rush into the back yard. His arms waved wildly, he startles her family and they back up. The creature she thought was a bear throws off the net with help from Elias Ian and bolts for the brush. But it wasn’t a bear – it was wearing something on its back, something that looked manufactured.
Elias Ian looked up , directly at the window she’s standing at. She backs away, gasping and when she steps back, he’s gone. She hurries to bed as her hosts come back into the house, cursing, angry and making lots of noise. She goes back to her room.
The next morning…
Names: ♀ England; ♂
Image: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...
Published on February 07, 2017 17:09
February 5, 2017
POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY: Using the “Mythology” of the Bible as SF Plots

Mythology as the Basis for Speculative Fiction Convention Center 2503A • Panel Does an understanding of mythology make better speculative fiction, and what is its current role within SF writing?
Katie Daniels – author of several supervillan novellasMr. Jeffrey Cook – fantasy writer and well-known indie advocateDavid Farnell – not certain, but might be the author of DELTA GREEN, a novel based on a popular role-playing gameSheila Finch(M) – wrote the book, MYTHS, METAPHORS, AND SCIENCE FICTIONAda Palmer – author of the acclaimed novel, TOO LIKE THE LIGHTNING
Great panel, most likely!
So now I’ll throw my two cents in…and maybe try to go to WorldCon 2018 in San Jose…
At any rate, let’s say for the sake of argument (avoiding one) that the general SF community would consider the Bible mythology. Of course there are Christians who are SF writers, most notably Gene Wolfe, but the majority of them are not.
I’ve been considering the use of the parables of Jesus as well as several other Christian stories as a basis for my stories. I’m working on a novel right now called MARTIAN HOLIDAY (if you’d like to read the series as it stands in first draft, go here: http://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/search/label/SCIENCE%20FICTION%20-%20Martian%20Holiday) in which I’m merging the stories of Stephen the Martyr, Esther the Queen, Paul the Apostle, and the writings of Daniel…on a Mars controlled by a United Faith in Humanity where all religions were deemed divisive and outlawed. Oh…and aliens.
I’ve got other ideas as well. Certainly Joseph’s story could be “futurified”. Other possibilities include David & Goliath (which actually shows up without attribution in a number of stories!); Noah and the Ark; Adam & Eve stories somehow get written all time and are on a number of “Don’t you dare send us one of these kinds of stories!” lists; Jonah and the Whale (I tried this once and never sold the story. I’ve eventually be dissecting it in my Writing Advice entries); Daniel in the Lion’s den; Joseph and his Brothers; The Good Samaritan (often appears in stories as a character either flaw or strength…a character of my favorite author has this characteristic. His name is Jason Morgan and if he DIDN’T have it, the series would utterly collapse!); the Prodigal Son; Abraham and Isaac; Kind David’s Confession; David and Nathaniel; Sampson & Delilah; Parable of the Sower (this one has an echo in the American tall tale of Johnny Appleseed); the entire book of Job (though Robert A Heinlein wrote JOB: A COMEDY OF JUSTICE already…); Lazarus; Elijah’s ascension to Heaven; plus the Sermon on the Mount…there are literally hundreds of stories there waiting to be told.
A couple of things, though…
How do you turn these into SF stories and how do you do it consistently?
Ah, there’s the rub. Consistency. Trevor Quachri at ANALOG bounced my most recent story. I like it, but he didn’t. So now what? I sent it to CC Finlay, too and while he said something nice about it, he didn’t take it, either. But was it based on the Bible? Does my writing HAVE TO be based on the Bible? Oswald Chambers had something interesting to say about that in his devotional book, MY UTMOST FOR HIS HIGHEST: “We are nowhere commissioned to preach salvation or sanctification; we are commissioned to preach Jesus Christ.” (February 1) This is based on John 12:32, where Jesus says, “And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to Myself.” This happened immediately after his baptism and the descent of the Holy Spirit on him in the form of a dove.
Do my stories draw people to Christ? Should they?
I am currently reading Kim Stanley Robinson’s GREEN MARS. It won the Hugo and Locus Awards, as well as being nominated for the BSFA and Nebula. It’s fascinating and deserves the accolades, but I also find it to be scrappy, full of his opinions on everything from religion to government. With a BA, MA, and a PhD in English. Clearly he’s well-read, but as far as intense study of some scientific field, he hasn’t got anything formal to speak of. Nothing in politics, either. Or psychology, business, or any other field of endeavor that might qualify him to make the sweeping observations he does in his novels.
Yet he won the awards and his work is influential, garnering awards and accolades and it seems as if he’s a sort of 21st Century Frank Herbert, who also had little or no formal training in the sciences, economics, psychology, and never had any kind of degree. He, too, left a deep mark on the SF community.
So – if I want to leave a mark for Christ with my writing, and I am no theologian (like my literary hero, CS Lewis), then I suppose I should just go ahead and do it, eh?
Program Book: https://midamericon2.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/MACII-PP-Interior-Final-HiRes.pdf
Image: http://www.krschannel.com/Depositphotos_1340250_XS.jpg
Published on February 05, 2017 06:32
February 2, 2017
LOVE IN A TIME OF ALIEN INVASION Chapter 56

The young experimental Triads are made up of the smallest primate tribe of Humans – Oscar and Kashayla; the smallest canine pack of Kiiote – six, pack leaders Qap and Xurf; and the smallest camelid herd of Yown’Hoo – a prime eleven, Dao-hi the Herd mother. On nursery farms and ranches away from the TC cities, Humans have tended young Yown’Hoo and Kiiote in secret for decades, allowing the two, warring people to reproduce and grow far from their home worlds.
“We had nearly fallen into stagnation when we encountered the Kiiote.”“And we into internecine war when we encountered the Yown’Hoo.” “Yown’Hoo and Kiiote have been defending themselves for a thousand revolutions of our Sun.” “Together, we might do something none of us alone might have done…a destiny that included Yown’Hoo, Kiiote, and Human.” (2/19/2015)
Great Uncle Rion said, “You’re going to have to trust that I am operating from a very long-range, deeply-laid plan.” He turned, sweeping the Triad – fifteen of us with one member killed when we were chased underground, and adding Retired, who was in fact, Lieutenant Commander Patrick Bakhsh and I’d pretty much figured out that he was some sort of Triad babysitter. “You have to follow me and not ask questions.”
“We have to follow and never question you?” Dao-hi said.
My robot great uncle grinned then and said, “Of course I expect you to question me! What are you, a bunch of robots?”
There was dead silence for an second, then we all busted out laughing.
I had to admire my android uncle, that had been the perfect thing to say. After a good night’s sleep and good food, we were probably ready to go. I said, “So, what’s our departure time?”
Even though he was artificial and made of white plastic, he could do facial expressions. It was sort of creepy. Like the teeny empathetic robots that were really popular before Earth became a late Twenty-first Century Korean Conflict – with us Humans playing the part of the Koreans to the Yown’Hoo and Kiiote the clashing super powers. “Gather whatever it is you wish to take from here. We’ll leave in ten minutes.”
“Why would we wish to take things from this site?” asked Xurf.
“Once we’re ten kilometers away, I’ll give the command and this site will be disintegrated.”
“What? You can’t do that! My family lived here! My dad came from here! If you destroy it, what am I gonna have left?”
GURion tilted his head and studied me for a long time before he said, “You’ve only been here a handful of hours. How can this mean anything to you?”
I had to look down. I didn’t know why the basement of a rundown old farm meant anything to me. All I had was some really vague memories. I looked up, “‘cause I don’t remember my dad any more, except just a little bit. That little bit happened here.” I bit the inside of my cheek then said, “If this is gone and I forget about it, then that’s it. Everything I ever knew about my parents is gone.” I blushed ‘cause I was ashamed. ‘Shay’d lost her family a long time ago. As far as I know, she was an orphan. I didn’t have any idea where the Herd and Pack had come from – by that I meant where Dao-hi, Xurf and Qap came from. I knew where the others had – they’d made them in Dome Home. I looked down at the Pack Mistress and said, “Do you remember your bitch?” I used the Kiiote word that meant the same thing. Kiiote didn’t raise their kids like Human did.
She stretched herself out from her four-legged travel stance, the others doing the same. I could see bones moving under fur and muscle as the upper legs and pelvis flattened and his leg bent, unlocking the tibia and fibula, pulling the toes together into narrow food make for running, it’s wide pads ideal for keeping them from sinking while hunting.
Their teeth sank back into their jaws and the skin loosened a bit as well as the neck and chest sagging a bit, as if they were shrinking underneath. Arms collapsed from long, slender digits to slender fox-legs. Their broad shoulders slid together and their necks bent. As one, they dropped to their feet and their tails went down. Qap said, “We need nothing. We are ready.”
Retired stepped out of the room, then returned with backpacks. He tossed one each to me and ‘Shay. “Hey!” I grunted. The thing was heavy! He left and returned again, this time pushing a cart with one huge pack on it.
“This, Mother, is for you. It is supplies for you and the rest of the Herd.”
The lesser Yown’Hoo reared up, keening, rushing forward to claim the packs, tentacles whipping as they redistributed them until Dao-hi stood amid a sea of lumpy Herdfolk. She snapped a single tentacle in Retired’s direction and said, “Forgive any doubt I ever had that you understand the dynamics of a Herd, Lieutenant Commander Patrick Bakhsh.”
He bowed and said, “Primate tribal behavior has roots in the Herd behavior, Mother.” He added, “That’s everything. The Pack will be scouts and muscle. The Herd transportation.”
“Of what use is the Tribe?” Qap said.
Retired looked at us, winked, and said, “Any kind of dirty work that has to be done, us monkeys will handle.”
Image: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/72/Rhll_wire_rope.jpg
Published on February 02, 2017 19:12
January 31, 2017
IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 291

H Trope: Blue Collar Warlock ("I have an idea that most of the mystics in comics are generally older people, very austere, very proper, very middle class in a lot of ways. They are not at all functional on the street. It struck me that it might be interesting for once to do an almost blue collar warlock. Somebody who was streetwise, working class, and from a different background than the standard run of comic book mystics. Constantine started to grow out of that.")Current Event: “Forgive me for getting a bit carried away. I find it an entertaining exercise to look for those parallels. I simply wonder if the manner in which we tackle the challenges we face in real life is reflected in the way we tackle our virtual battles. As a side-note, I'd also be interested to see what kind of people the Destiny sub consists of.” (http://www.reddit.com/r/DestinyTheGame/comments/2n3xfc/whats_your_primary_class_and_what_do_you_do_in/)
Rafael Pai-Teles sighed. “Eu vou estar o trabalhar para a Metrô del Belo Horizonte para o resto de minha vida!”
Eduarda Cisota shook her head and said, “Speak English. Your Portuguese is crappy.”
“I can’t work for the Belo Horizonto Metro for the rest of my life!”
Eduarda said, “What else are you going to do?”Rafael said, “I can do something else.”
“You can’t do anything,” she said. “Now get back to work.”
Rafael scowled. “I’m worth a lot more than you think I am!” he snapped.
“You’re a kid. Just like me. You’re gonna run the train and I’m gonna take tickets from now until forever. It’s what happened. At least we didn’t get turned into stalagmites. We were lucky to be here when the Donkey Wizard took over Up North.”
“It was the Elephant Sorceress and she turned everyone into obsidian shards,” Eduarda said.
He threw his arms into the air and shouted, “Whatever! I can do something about it!”
“About every living thing being turned into some kind of inorganic obelisk – what can you possibly do?” Rafael crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. Eduarda rolled her eyes and said, “That didn’t come out how I meant it to come out.”
“How did you mean it, as a compliment?”
“No, but I didn’t mean to sound so...” as she spoke, a train roared into Carlos Prates Estação.
“I have to go now! I’ll tell you what I can do later!” he shouted.
She watched him run after the train where he was a porter. His father had been a physicist in the Aryabhata tradition, dealing with solar energy and, accordingly, solar weapons. He’d died when the Wizard or Sorceress or whoever turned life to stone. There was some Christian writer who’d written of a fictional sorceress who had done then, but she didn’t know who. The train started to pull out and she cursed. Now she’d have to...As she watched, the concrete platform under Rafael’s feet shimmered, then appeared to be a mound of living tissue – like a wart or pimple or something equally disgusting. As it rose though, it allowed Rafael to step easily on to the train. She rubbed her eyes and when she opened them, her long-time friend was waving back at her, grinning ear to ear as he pulled from the station.
Reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belo_Horizonte_MetroNames: ♀ Brazil; ♂ Brazil
Image: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OCWXw6InF70/TKigMBk87NI/AAAAAAAAAy4/tL7MhIfL9CM/s1600/2212_1025142570.jpg
Published on January 31, 2017 16:02
January 29, 2017
WRITING ADVICE: Can This Story Be SAVED? #9 “Late Archaic Unicorn” (Submitted 8 Times Since , Never revised)

ANALOG Tag Line: What if unicorns were real?
Elevator Pitch (What Did I Think I Was Trying To Say?): If unicorns actually existed at one time, what would we do if that history was actually protected information of Aboriginal peoples everywhere?
Opening Line: “Tierra Land had seen the images a thousand times, but never live.”
Onward: From there, my main character meets a handsome stranger – he shows her his painting, they go on a date and agree to write a paper together. Pretty simple. Some might say, “Where’s the rest of the story?”
What Was I Trying To Say? That there are things we think we know, “There’s no such thing as a REAL unicorn!” when the fact is that science and scientists don’t know everything – and that there will, in fact be some things that we can’t know.
While saying that there are things we might never know seems antithetical to the definition: “a systematic enterprise that builds and organizes knowledge in the form of testable explanations and predictions about the universe” (Wikipedia) nowhere does it mention infallibility – and no scientist anywhere can say with certainty that the science of ANYTHING is settled. It was once settled that the speed of light was a constant and a mathematical symbol created for it – as in E=mc2 (where c is a constant representing 300,000,000 m/s), but it’s just as well known today that the speed of light is not always constant… https://www.sciencenews.org/article/speed-light-not-so-constant-after-all.
The definition above absolutely intends to mean the first definition of “enterprise” – which is “a project or undertaking, typically one that is difficult or requires effort”, but the authors also noticed the second definition: “a business or company”, which is ALSO what science is; and what the current commander-in-chief has some experience in dealing with…
The Rest of the Story: It’s a short-short, a bit over two thousand words long. Too long for flash, but short enough to say what I wanted to say – without going on to have them involved in some kind of intrigue, love drawing them together and making it into a 10,000 word novella. It’s not what I was interested in doing. I just wanted to pose an interesting thought, sketch an image, and have something interesting happen. Could I pad it? Sure! But that’s not what I set out to do…
End Analysis: I still like this story, though I thought of two changes I could make: first, I’m going to move sentence from early on page 2 and make it the first sentence. It will set up the story better. Secondly, I’ll give a clearer description of the unicorn in the main character’s painting.
Can This Story Be Saved? Yup. In fact, I’ll make the changes above today, and send it out afterward!
Image: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/9f/22/3b/9f223b1e57a36e14db3eb13715fbe3f9.jpg
Published on January 29, 2017 09:31
January 26, 2017
MARTIAN HOLIDAY 95: Stepan of Burroughs

“I’m reading an old government document,” said MishAH. His experience with security made him the best doubter of their vat decantation. He cleared the map and enlarged the ancient government document. “The way this is phrased makes it clear that someone – likely a whole bunch of someones! – on Mars knew about these tunnels. It’s not clear if Humans made them or not, but we know about them. Knew about them even back then.”DaneelAH pursed his lips then said, “Then that makes it even more important that we connect with this Paolo and the Hero of the Faith Wars. I think they must be working together.”
“Why do they want us?” AzAH said. MishAH, HanAH, and DaneelAH turned to her.
DaneelAH said, “When we find that out, they we’ll know where we’re going and why.” He turned to MishAH, “You said it before – you’ve seen things stirring on this rusty pinball and there’s something going on in Opportunity the Mayoral consort and her affiliation to dubious christianity.” He paused, “We’re in Burroughs and we know something’s going on here and Mayor Turin back home allowed us to be kidnapped from Malacandra.”
Under cover of the roar of noise in the Dome, his vat mates exclaimed loudly. Other blue Artificial Humans noted the exchange, two of them taking exception to the mention of a racist, sexist, and Human-hating ancient religion. Two others took note of the same mention. The first two passed them, glaring. The other two looked at each other and then split, making for the exits of the Thoroughfare.
HanAH, who had seen both exchanges ignored them and said, “What in Humanity’s name are you talking about?”
DaneelAH, who’d always and inexplicably been the tallest one of the mates, looked down at him and said, “You think this Paolo just kidnapped us on his own?”
MishAH, who was best at pattern recognition stared at him, open mouthed for several seconds. He finally reached over to push his jaw closed. She slapped his hand. “I knew that!”
He smiled. “You probably did, subconsciously. You just needed me to pry the logjam,” he emphasized the word, “that’s been blinding you from seeing the obvious.”
AzAH shook her head slowly. “Why would the Mayor of Malacandra be attempting to promote an ancient religion?”
“Maybe he’s not promoting a religion,” said HanAH abruptly. “Maybe he’s preparing for a revolution.”
“An insurrection, perhaps,” DaneelAH said.
“What’s the difference?”
“An insurrection leads to a refusal to be controlled and then freedom to arrange ourselves. Revolution’s aim is to replace one regime with another – which might be better or worse.”
“Somebody has to call the shots,” AzAH exclaimed.
DaneelAH scanned the slowly moving mass of Humans, both artificial and Natural, robots, carts, cars, and flyers as they seethed under the Dome. He said, “We need someplace to go…” Something tugged at his sleeve. He looked down.
A blue boy, somewhere on the verge of adolescence, craned his neck as he looked up at DaneelAH, and said, “I got someone wants to meet you, Sir.”
DaneelAH resisted the urge to yank his knee-length tunic free and said, “You must have me confused with someone else, boyAH.”
“Don’t think so, Sir. I was sent to lead you.”
“Where?” HanAH asked, looming and scowling his best Security Scowl. AzAH covered his mother to keep from laughing.
The boy looked up at him and said, “My friend Stepan’d like to talk to you. Says anyone new in town what talks like him needs to be shown to the Rim.”
“The Rim? Who would we want to meet in the most run down place in a Dome?”
The boyAH stepped back, looked HanAH over once, feet to face, then said, “Anyone what says the ‘c’ word is someone Stepan wants to talk to.”
“What ‘c’ word,” AzAH asked.
“The ‘christian’ word, a’ course.”
“Why would he want to talk to us when the word is illegal? What do you have to do with him – or even mentioning the word? Where did you come from? How long have you been spying on us?” MishAH fired questions at the boyAH.
Nonplussed, he shrugged and said, “Stepan said that if you didn’t wanna come with me, I was supposed to tell you that he’s some sort of hero in something he called the ‘faith wars’.” The boyAH shrugged. “I dunno know what it…” This time he did shrink away from the combined gaze of four adult Artificial Humans.
DaneelAH whispered, “Take us to him.”
The boyAH shrugged and said, “He don’t look like no hero I ever seen, but come on, follow me if you want to. Don’t matter to me.” When he saw they were ready, he set off, moving fast as a weasel and looking like an engine pulling a train of huge cars.
Image: https://static.pexels.com/photos/7717/pexels-photo.jpg
Published on January 26, 2017 18:12
January 24, 2017
IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 290

Fantasy Trope: The QuestCurrent Event: http://contemplativequest.com/, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice's_Adventures_in_Wonderland
Světlana Angelika pursed her lips, looking out over the hectares of forest. In the MSP Vertical Village, it was mostly deciduous trees – oak, maple, patches of white-barked birch, poplar – with a sprinkling of pine trees. The concourse she and Uthman Aali were on was packed with people. Not a hundred thousand, for sure, but too many to think. “We need to go somewhere,” she said abruptly, speaking in the too loud manner of all the inhabitants of Vertical Villages everywhere.
Uthman gave her a look that said, “You’re crazy.”
She slugged him in the shoulder. It was a little kid move – but then, they’d been friends since they were three years old. “No, I’m serious. We need to go somewhere real.”
Without changing his stare, Uthman said, “We can go up to the six hundredth floor...”
“No! I don’t mean here. This is all so...boring. We need to go,” she pause, “through a looking glass.”
“A what?”
“A looking glass! Haven’t you ever read Alice in Wonderland?”
“I might have seen a threevee of it once. Wasn’t it a cartoon?”
“Yes – and no, you haven’t seen this. Lewis Carroll wrote a novel, it’s true. But he was a mathematician. His logic is all over the book. Math. Everything.”
Uthman snorted, “It sounds like science fiction.”
“It’s fantasy – she steps through a mirror.”
“If it’s math and logic, it’s science fiction.”
“There are talking rabbits,” said Světlana. “And a talking, disappearing cat. As well as a talking, smoking caterpillar, talking mice, and soldiers made of playing cards.”
“OK. You win. It’s a fantasy. But what does it have to do with us? What kind of mirror can we jump through? I’m sure there are some here – but...”
“The windows. We can jump through one of those.”
“A window?”
“Come on, let’s go to the outer walls. We’ll leap through one of those!” She turned and ran, Uthman running after her.
Names: ♀ Czech, Roman; ♂ Arabic, Hindu
Image: http://www.skyscrapernews.com/images/pics/6255CaernarfonCastle_pic1.jpg
Published on January 24, 2017 14:38
January 22, 2017
Slice of PIE: Somewhere Between Paradise and Hell-On-Earth…The NEXT Big Thing

Many stories are set in either grand interstellar deep space futures or a trapped-on-Earth dystopias. We discuss the “middle future” in SF written today and yesterday, and where it falls on the Utopia/Dystopia spectrum.
Jack Campbell Jr. (aka John G. Hemry) – the LOST FLEET series, also science fiction short stories in ANALOG for a long time!Thomas K. Carpenter – lots of books, some appear darker than others…Sarah Frost – Among other things, an ANALOG writer.Mr. Peadar O Guilin – several YA novels under his belt.Tamara Jones – published in many genresJohn Joseph Adams – renowned editor…of practically everything…
I’m reading a series right now that is about a grand interstellar deep space future…that fell apart, the second to last book of Julie Czerneda’s CLAN CHRONICLES.
David Brin once wrote of a grand interstellar deep space future…in which Humans became hunted heretics and fought against each other – most likely for religious reasons. Humans remained the ONLY rational beings in this future.
The first book in my own YA series, HEIRS OF THE SHATTERED SPHERES is a grand interplanetary future that has a nasty glitch in it: where once the Solar system was home to an aggressive species whose home was Venus, that civilization has been destroyed…though an AI doesn’t realize that Humans are not the descendants of those aliens.
Others that come to mind are myriad, but the YA genre seems to be churning out dystopian lit still, there are hints that it might be turning away from the darkness and “into the light”. While these are not by any means “utopian”, they are a far cry from the teen-slaughtering dystopias of recent memory: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/blog/teen/13-of-our-most-anticipated-science-fiction-yas-of-2016/
In my brief overview of coming YA SF&F, I only found one real dystopian/hopeless/teen slaughter novel and the blurb seemed more of a rehash of what’s already been done.
Does this mean we’re done with dystopias? Probably not. Most likely the vein has been played out…but that means that there may well be pockets of truly marvelous work. Very few people would have thought that the “wizarding school” had been mined to extinction. Then JK Rowling hit something no one – NOT “had never done before” – had mined in that peculiar way and polished up to that peculiar shine.
You already know from following me, that I loved the works of Robert A Heinlein, Andre Norton, and Alan Nourse. They were wonder-full for their time and their books have remained in print for half-a-century.
There is no doubt that Rowling’s books will remain extant as they drift into history to become true classics.
But upon whom will the mantel of SCIENCE fiction writer for the young fall? There are some hints – Marissa Meyer? Suzanne Collins? Will McIntosh? Paolo Bacigalupi? Who knows.
This person has to both discover an idea that has old roots – and make it relevant to young people today. What could that be? Mythology (maybe a non-Greek/Celtic/Roman/Western one?) add that to a futuristic form of communication (YAs are nothing without their cellphones!) Maybe mythology is TOO ancient. How about leaving Earth – not in a negative way, lots of people have tried that; and “climate change” trope seems too…I don’t know…trendy for your average teen. Trendy in a negative way; like adults keep saying, “You must save the planet! You must save the planet!”
I can just hear one of the kids in my school muttering, “You wrecked it. YOU save it.”
Nah, it’s got to be something that grabs them. Music maybe? Grab them the way the Beatles grabbed the Baby Boomers, and the way no group or band has grabbed today’s teens – (I checked and there are a LOT of possible names for the generation born after 2000. I’m gonna go with “Tweeters”). So what would a break away book be like for the Tweeters? Music and communication? Maybe an operatic voice for the 21st century? Maybe singing aliens?
Any thoughts?
Program Book: https://midamericon2.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/MACII-PP-Interior-Final-HiRes.pdfImage: http://www.newslang.ie/images/uploads...
Published on January 22, 2017 10:02