M. Thomas Apple's Blog, page 31

Bringer of Light, Chapter 31: Ceres – The mining station (Part 1)

Captains Clarissa Kragen, Gennaji, and Ildico square off. But something’s not quite right…

When she jumped out of the Artemis cargo hold, waving goodbye to the Hopper and her crew aboard her, Riss had experienced a familiar dread. Even the quantum entanglement cabling tether, which she knew would guide her, could not eliminate the fear that, somehow, she would veer off into the endless vacuum of space.

The blackness rushed up to meet her, envelop her.

And she embraced it. Eyes and arms wide open.

Unlike her dreams, this time a wave of acceptance seemed to pass through her.

She had walked where none had gone. She had become part of a greater whole. The darkness was within her as well as without.

She laughed, the noise sounding only inside her helmet.

Now, finally, she understood the exhilaration her navigator must feel in his vidgames. Relaxed, she toggled her suit rear thrusters. The entry port to the mining station rapidly approached, and Riss realized she had never seen the port from outside a ship. It looked so huge, and yet so tiny and fragile.

Was that all that kept the forces of chaos at bay? The only barrier preventing the internal atmosphere of Ceres from escaping, suffocating and freezing everyone inside? Surely, they could create something of more substance.

Suddenly she could sense the gravitational field of the dwarf planet. Faint, but present. Like ribbons extending, overlapping. All she had to do was tug on them a little…

The port lights surrounding the gates blinked white and red, and the gates opened. In silence, Riss descended, head first. The microgravity of the planetoid grew stronger, slowed her. She reversed her thrusters to orient her feet beneath her (above her). She looked up to see the open gates and blackness beyond.

Her helmet comm crackled.

“Riss, we’ve got it.”

“Come down in five minutes,” she ordered. “Radio silence from now.”

“Roger.”

The port gates overhead began to close. She touched down, and the port itself was bathed in light. Her helmet sensors showed an atmosphere rushing in from all sides. The gates soundlessly closed, locks sealed. As she waited for the O2-CO2-N levels and pressure to equalize, Riss thought she could feel someone watching.

The fields appeared before her. Yes. She sensed at least four people on the other side of the bulkhead in front, behind the exit door. Willing herself to calm down, Riss steeled herself. She had to expect the worst.

The sensors confirmed safe conditions. She removed the helmet, and the door opened.

Gennaji was the first through the door. He was followed by Andrej, who stood arms folded by the door. 

Gennaji strode directly toward her and stopped.

“This is for Lena.”

Ripped out a weapon from his sleeve.

And fired.

Riss flung her arms up, crossed, as if to fend off the attack. Her upper body twisted to one side; she saw the projectile penetrate a shimmering shield in front of her, then deflect barely a few degrees away. The report from the shot reverberated around the port, followed immediately by a loud thud.

Riss looked behind her. The bullet hole was visible in the port wall.

No ricochet? She stared at Gennaji.

He stared back, in disbelief, then raised his pistol to fire again.

No.

The bullet left the chamber and sped toward her. She focused, and a dense layer of air formed in front of the projectile. It spun, then the tip mushroomed, and fell with a clang.

“Enough!” Ildico’s voice rang out from the entrance door. 

Gennaji glanced at his useless weapon, then back to Riss, his face registering shock, then anger. Dropping the weapon, he raised his hands in fists and made to run at her.

“I said enough!” Ildico barked out again. She walked toward them, accompanied by a taller blond woman in a mining suit and a short young man in some sort of diplomat’s dress. The three stopped next to Gennaji, who stood motionless, but breathing heavily.

Andrej, Riss noted, remained at the door, surveying the scene with a face devoid of expression. The young man, she didn’t know. The woman, she recognized immediately.

“Sub-chief Talbot,” she breathed. “Then the Ceres Mining Council—”

“The Mining Council is now under my control,” Ildico cut in. She stepped forward, face to face with Riss, and smiled. “As I told you before.”

“Sorry, Riss,” Talbot said. “But I knew somehow you could take care of yourself.”

“How,” Gennaji began. He swallowed, gesturing at the spent shell on the floor, “How in God’s name did you do that?”

Talbot answered for her. “However she did it is besides the point. The most important thing for now is that she will know that justice has been served.”

“Justice?” Riss said incredulously. She laughed. “What justice?”

“Justice?!” Gennaji roared. “Here the murderess stands, and you speak of justice!”

“Hush, Gen, dear,” Ildico purred. She stroked Riss’s cheek with a finger, then stepped back. “Riss has not suffered the hand of justice. Not yet. But she will.”

“What?” Gennaji demanded. “You promised to deliver her into my hands!”

“No,” Ildico said, eyes flashing. “I promised you vengeance on her. And that we shall both have, soon enough. Right, Gen?” She turned to the young man who had been standing silent up to that point.

Gen? Riss thought. Who?

“As you say, Captain Ildico,” the young man responded softly. “The UA strike force should have reached Luna by now.”

Luna? Riss turned pale.

So did Gennaji. “It…no…” he stuttered.

“Our operative infiltrated some days ago,” Gen continued. “The Sisters saw to it before they even met you.”

“In return,” Ildico said, “we will deliver the ditrium, as promised.”

“But,” Gennaji said, “my bonus?”

“Oh, that.” Ildico waved her hand dismissively. “You can have the Artemis. I’m sure Riss won’t mind. Seeing as how we are taking away the only thing important in her life.”

“Wait!” Riss suddenly said. “Gennaji, what if I offered something in return for my ship?”

“Your crew is safe,” he snorted. “I have no interest in a bunch of half-breeds.”

“No, I mean gold.”

He laughed. “I don’t think your iceberg was worth much. I have the ditrium, after all.”

Now it was Ildico’s turn to laugh. “No, Gennaji, not you. Gen.” She nodded. “As I said, it is already being delivered.”

“What?” Gennaji cried.

“I thank you, Captain,” Gen said gravely. “It shall be put to good use. Now, we should vacate the port before the cargo arrives.”

“Ildico, you double-crossed me!” Gennaji said savagely, taking a step toward her. His move to strike her was countered by a sudden flurry of blows. Before he could react, Gennaji found himself on the floor, nursing a left jab to the jaw. Between Ildico and his prone form, Andrej stood, weapon drawn and aimed.

“Andy.” Gennaji spat. “Traitor.”

“I had a better offer,” Andrej shrugged. “And you are a terrible captain.”

“Gentlemen,” Gen said. “I must reiterate. The port will open momentarily.”

They went towards the door without another word, Andrej backwards, weapon still aimed at his former captain. Gennaji lurched to his feet, glaring at them all in turn. But he followed them all the same into the port access room.

The door slammed behind him. Hands seized him on either side. Taygete and one other whose name he had forgotten.

He briefly struggled, then stopped as Ildico pointed out the door window to the port.

“Why is that here?” she cried. “Is that one of yours, Riss?!”

They all looked around the room.

She was not among them.

Gennaji tried to turn his head to look at what Ildico was pointing at.

Riss.

Hands dropped away in shock. He wrenched his arms away and rubbed his jaw. Andrej kept the pistol trained on him.

She was standing in the middle of the port, its gate wide open to space. An almost imperceptible sheen surrounded her, as if a bubble of air had decided to keep her alive. One arm gestured to the object that slowly lowered between the gates.

The Hopper.

Gennaji watched in disgust as the squat, vaguely urn-shaped vessel drifted downward to the port floor. Logically, he knew that there was little reason for space-only ships to look at all aerodynamic — there being no air, of course, such shapes simply weren’t needed, and often cost more to produce — but as a former fighter pilot he couldn’t help finding the Hopper a primitive, ugly thing. He had never understood Sergey’s desire to always take one and land on every rock they captured.

And here it was. Another reminder of the captain who had given away his right to rule. The captain he would have followed no matter what. And yet—

The Hopper had landed. Riss approached it as the occupants emerged from a sliding side door. Overhead the gate began to close again and the atmosphere return.

“Ildico,” Gennaji snapped. “What is happening to Sergey?”

She laughed. “I promised you justice, Gen dear.”

“What you gave me was a traitor and a bruised jaw.”

Andrej’s expression remained neutral. The pistol didn’t budge.

“Andy,” Ildico purred, “put the gun away. Someone might get hurt.”

The gun lowered. Gennaji clenched and unclenched a fist. He looked up. Next to him, Taygete had crossed her arms and was staring out to the port.

“Captain,” the clone said. “We should find out what she wants.”

She meant Riss, Gennaji supposed. Yet the clone did not look particularly pleased. Irritated, in fact. Was there something she already knew and hadn’t let on about?

The warning light changed to yellow then blue. The door reopened, and they walked back into the port, this time warily. Gennaji hung back, then grabbed Taygete’s arm before she could join the rest.

The clone quickly seized his hand and thrust the nozzle of her rifle into his side.

“Wait,” he gasped. “A, a question.”

She paused, then nodded.

“What does Ildi—Captain Ildico—mean by justice? What is happening on Luna?”

“If the Captain does not see fit to answer you,” the clone said tonelessly, “it is not my duty to respond, either.” She let go of his arm and resumed walking.

“But what if her plans for Luna take precedence over your plans for Ceres?” he called after her.

Taygete pulled up short.

She glanced over at the group gathered by the Hopper. They could not hear clearly what was being discussed, but based on the frequency and rapidity of Ildico’s gestures, along with the general emotional tone of the conversation, it looked like the Pleiades captain was not in the best of moods.

“What plans for Ceres?” Taygete responded.

Gennaji smirked. “Come, now, Taygete. I can put two and two together. You clones are the ones really in charge. Aren’t you?”

She looked at him and squinted. Then back to the group argument.

“I think you’d better intercede before something goes amiss,” Gennaji commented lightly. “Before the Seventh Sister decides that Captain Ildico has gone too far.”

Taygete grabbed his arm. “She would never—”

She caught her breath, dropped his arm. Shouldering her weapon, Taygete marched toward the group. Gennaji rubbed his arm where the clone had seized it. A lucky guess, he thought. But probably accurate.

The clone had mixed feelings about Ildi. And about the plan for Ceres.

And it looked like his guess about the “hidden” Seventh Sister was right, too. But how to play it to his advantage?

Next: Bringer of Light, Chapter 31: Ceres – The mining station (Part 2). One backstab deserves another.

Trace Gas Orbiter finds traces of hydrogen underground in the Valles Marineris

A.k.a., the “Great Canyon of Mars”

The original article title?

“Astronomers Detect Secret Water Reserves in The Largest Canyon in The Solar System”

Science isn’t quite as catchy. The hydrogen may indicate water in the form of permafrost 3 feet and more under the surface.

The high-hydrogen region is about the size of the Netherlands, and overlaps with Candor Chasma, one of the largest canyons in the Valles Marineris system.

Looks like there may be some competition for who gets to land near here first…

https://www.sciencealert.com/hidden-water-has-been-found-in-the-soil-of-mars-grand-canyon

Getting Yourself to Write

Writing can be a struggle for writers of all levels, from beginning to professional. The struggle has a dreaded name: writer’s block. Writer’s block …

Getting Yourself to Write

I’ve never really experienced the so-called “writer’s block.” Not that I’m bragging…but I often just don’t find I have enough time to write.

By which I mean, writing seriously. It’s easy, however, to find time here and there just to jot down some random thoughts.

(Aside note: if you type really quickly on the WordPress smartphone app, it autocorrect “random” to “radon,” which would put you in an entirely different frame of mind.)

I carry tons of little papers with me — mostly receipts from the convenience store, or scraps from cut up old paper wall calendars meant for recycling. Social media has taken up too much of my time these days — making me feel obligated to retweet or respond to someone else’s post online when I could be writing something just for myself.

One of the earliest memories I have of myself thinking of myself as a writer is when my dad encouraged me to read his copy of Peter Elbow’s The Joy of Writing. I learned the writing process from that book; moreover, I learned not to fear mistakes.

In fact, I learned to embrace them. Learn from them. Keep them and treasure them as a record of my writing journey. It certainly has influenced my own teaching practices.

I don’t often post here about how I write

Maybe I should?

22 Free Ebooks for 2022!

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Simply visit Smashwords, click on “Buy,” and then into the Coupon Code box type QJ89T.

There are only 22 coupons (for 2022)! The promotion expires on January 3rd. Don’t forget you can give ebooks as gifts for Xmas!

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No Season 2 for live-action Cowboy Bebop

Well, the writing was already on the virtual wall from the beginning. The anime had only one season.

White fanboys got butthurt by the use of diverse actors – anime is anime, but live action is real actors in the real world where “race” and ethnicity are still issues and women don’t actually look like hourglasses.

Ratings plummeted after the initial hype. Netflix always panders to the masses, so this is not surprising.

Adios, amigos. See you, space cowboy.

— Read on soranews24.com/2021/12/10/there-will-not-be-a-season-2-for-netflixs-live-action-cowboy-bebop/

Bringer of Light, Chapter 30: Ceres – The Sagittarius

Gennaji prepares to take his vengeance.

Finally. His time had come.

In the expansive cargo hold, railgun at the ready, Gennaji waited. At any moment, Ildico would give the signal, and he would blast the Artemis with radiation. Its systems disabled, he would board it, find Riss, and do what the Ceres Mining Council should have done years ago.

Deliver judgment.

At his side, cabled into place, stood Andrej.

He wasn’t sure how much he could trust the man, to be honest. As a capable defender, yes. At the helm, yes.

When it came to supporting his revenge?

Gennaji clenched a fist. He would not allow another man’s personal feelings to get in the way of his revenge.

Lena.

If only he, himself, had been allowed into the Mining Council!

But, no, that wasn’t the plan. Ildico had promised him justice.

Fortunately, the Mining Council had quickly agreed to their joint demands. He had no idea where she’d managed to find two additional hunter crews willing to support them. But evidently the Pleiades was not the only ship with a grudge against Riss. At least, that’s what it seemed like, to Gennaji. What other reason could there be?

In the meantime, he wondered what to say to Sergey the next time they met. If they met. The old captain might not forgive any action taken against his adopted daughter.

Gennaji felt for the hollow point. Safe and secure in his left arm sleeve pocket. He grimaced. Soon, he would discover whether it had been worth spending depleted funds on.

Karel’s voice filled the cargo hold.

“Someone just left the Artemis on a tether. Whoever it is appears to be headed for the mining station port.”

“That must be Clarissa,” Gennaji growled. “So, she gave in, in the end. Too bad.”

He unbolted the railgun and moved to the comm panel unit. At a nod, Andrej undid the tethers from his wrists. It was just as well, Gennaji though with a chagrin. 

She hadn’t called his bluff. There was no way he could have used the railgun anyway. Not if he wanted to keep his ship in one piece.

Bluster. He shook his head. Sergey would not have approved. But this was revenge.

All was fair, Sergey, he thought as he completed his final systems check. He turned to the equipment cabinet, yanked out two suits, and tossed one to Andrej. He toggled the comm again.

“Ory, Andy and I are preparing to Hop down to Ceres. Once we’re out, re-establish the solar shield.”

“Captain, we can’t possibly match the Artemis in a one-on-one fight.”

Gennaji frowned. “I know that. I doubt she’ll attack with these odds against her. Still, keep on eye on it. I wouldn’t put anything past that crew of vipers.”

“Captain,” Karel’s voice cut in. “Do you want me to prepare a ballbuster?”

“No. Too close to Ceres. We can’t risk it.”

“Then?”

“Hand to hand, Karel.” Gennaji grinned in anticipation. “If we’re lucky.”

Next: Bringer of Light, Chapter 31: Ceres – The mining station (Part 1). Things may not actually go according to Ildico’s plan, and Riss has a few surprises for Gennaji.

Real world locations of dystopian scifi movies

The Bradbury Building is well known (Blade Runner, 1982), but do you know these other locations?

Frank Lloyd Wright-designed buildings, city halls, abandoned mills, even a high school in Texas…

(An older article, but still interesting…too many movies rely entirely on green screen these days…)

https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/the-real-world-locations-used-in-fourteen-film-dystopias?utm_medium=atlas-page&utm_source=facebook&fbclid=IwAR07626vyf9K8giJvYIAg8kMJg6XdMIbLdXMnYrajiru0J_0ugUYKD7HglU

Apologies for the absence!

Sorry, everyone, for the lack of posts lately!

I wasn’t able to post short stories and news from my smartphone (which is what I had been doing on the train to work) bc I went way over my ISP plan and got throttled for about a week.

Then December started, and work got really busy. And I look up and suddenly realized I haven’t even watched more than the first ep of the live action Cowboy Bebop.

(It was OK. Too many guns and not enough kung-fu.)

I’ll get back to regular posting soon.

In the meantime, here’s a picture of what it looks like on the hiking trail behind my house. (“Wild dogs and boar suddenly appear. Beware!”)

(Yes, I have seen a few. They come with their piglets down to the creek near us at night and then on the property next door dig in the ground with their tusks, looking for bugs to eat.)

Bringer of Light, Chapter 29: Ceres – Weng

As Riss prepares to surrender herself to Gennaji and Ildico, Sam helplessly watches the scene unfold…

From the command seat of his tiny shuttle, Weng silently watched the face off between the Artemis and the ships of the new Ceres Mining Council. He wished he knew what they were saying.

He also wished Gen were still in the shuttle with him.

Weng grimaced. He still didn’t trust the clone, but he would feel much safer if someone obviously as highly ranked as Gen were in the shuttle. It would reduce the chance of his becoming yet another target.

Apparently, however, this was all going to plan. He mentally recalled the conversation he had with Gen just prior to arriving at Ceres.

“Gen, why are there five hunter ships here? Are we getting ready for a fight?”

“Not to worry, Sam,” Gen had told him. “There will be no fight.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because we control the Seven Sisters, and without them, there is no fight.”

“The Seven what?”

“Sisters, Sam. The crew of the Pleiades.”

“They, uh, they aren’t friends of Riss,” he asked. “Right?”

Gen nodded. “Affirmative. Their Captain is a former shipmate and rival. However, the Sisters are necessary to free Ceres, and therefore part of our plan.”

“Plan. What plan?” Weng frowned. “I don’t see how taking over Luna and Ceres has anything to do with the United Mars Colonies.”

“The plan was to control Ceres. This is where the clones are. This is where they have been used and thrown away.” 

Gen sighed and continued. “Luna was not part of our original plan at all. One of the hunters must have gotten it into her head to involve somebody there, and then the UA had no choice but to defend their interests.”

“Sergey,” Weng said. He felt himself turn pale. What could he do to warn the old man? If anything happened to Sergey, how would Riss react?

“Sam. Weng-shi.” Gen’s serious demeanor brought his attention back to the present. “I will go to the Ceres Mining Council. We will be in control. But you must stay here.”

“Why?” A momentary thought of bliss passed through Weng’s mind, which he could not suppress.

Gen smirked. Or at least, came as close to smirking as Weng could imagine a clone to do. “Sam, put thoughts of Susan ‘Talbot’ out of your mind. She is not who she claims to be.”

Weng caught his breath. “The Seventh Sister.”

“The Seventh Sister is always hidden,” Gen said, without a trace of irony. “The Seventh Sister is also not a clone. However, she is a mother.”

Stunned, Weng kept his thoughts to himself. No emotions, he repeated in his mind. Think only of the situation.

“Well,” Gen commented. “You seem to have finally managed to block my readings. At any rate, your task is to make sure that Riss and the rest of the Artemis reaches Mars. Intact.”

Weng breathed out. “Mars?”

“Yes. And with a bonus.”

Weng snapped back to the present. Whatever the hunter ships had told the Artemis, he was not privy to. But it had resulted in something besides a stalemate. His console readings indicated that a tiny pilot vessel was detaching from what was probably the Artemis’s cargo area.

No idea how many were on board, but he would bet his life that Riss was on it. Meaning the rest of the crew complement still stayed on the Artemis. Was Riss being sacrificed for the greater good?

Weng ground his teeth. He had no way of knowing whether his surmise was accurate. Only his intuition. And that was dangerous.

Learning without thought leads to no result, said the sage, and thought without learning is adventurous. Weng had no plans to be adventurous. Ambitious, yes. Not adventurous.

What on earth was he doing in this shuttle?

He shook his head. Concentrate. Just follow the plan. Wait for the signal.

The ditrium was the key.

How on earth Gen knew that the Pleiades had ditrium, Weng had no idea. But if Riss could get her hands on it…

Their future. Everything he had done, everything he had worked and planned and dreamed for. It was within his grasp!

Idly, he wondered what “Sue Talbot” was doing at that moment. A pang of guilt? He shook his head. Simply concern about a person doing her job.

He thought of Sergey again. He hoped the old man wasn’t involved too much in all this.

Next: Bringer of Light, Chapter 30: Ceres – The mining station (Part 1). Gennaji and Ildico are waiting for their revenge, but Riss and her crew may have other plans…

Tales of a 6th-Grade Nothing (Apologies to Judy Blume)

I started writing stories when I was in 5th grade. Our teacher gave us a list of vocabulary each week — about 10 to 12 words, I think — and said we had two choices: 1) write down all their definitions along with a sample sentence, or 2) work them into a short story to show that we understood the meaning of the words.

I chose the 2nd option. In fact, I was the only one who did out of a class of about 25.

The thing is, the teacher wanted us to read them at the front of the room.

Man, that was not something I was looking forward to. But somehow I managed.

I wrote nothing but detective stories, all in the first person. At some point, I borrowed my mother’s old manual typewriter (originally my grandfather’s, from the 1950s) and typed them all out. I still have most of them.

But my peak as an elementary school age creative writer came part-way 6th grade, when I attempted to write my first horror story.

I don’t remember the assignment details, but evidently the teacher had asked each student to write and illustrate a short creative fictional story. Most of my classmates wrote simple things about everyday life events – meeting grandparents, playing sports, going on a trip.

As before, we were asked to read them aloud in front of class.

The cover of my story looked like this:

Basically, I described an airplane crash in which the 30 survivors out of 300 had to stay in an old hotel somewhere in a dark mountainous countryside.

One person is eaten alive by rats.

Another has his skin melted off by steam in the bathroom.

A third is eaten by the ceiling, his bones spat onto the bed.

Several, including the pilot (who for some reason has a pistol he fires at the door), are trapped in a room and squished by moving walls, blood spurting out into the corridor.

As I read, my classmates made sounds like “Eeew” and “Blech.”

The story ended with the remaining survivors huddled in one room as the floor pushed them up toward a laughing face on the ceiling…into which one of them throws a chair.

In horror at eaten part of itself, the face howls and the building, people still inside, slowly blink out of existence.

“…began upwards,” no verb, shows the limits of 11 year old editing acumen…

The last line reads, “And every night, those people go through that experience throughout eternity.”

A silence fell.

Later, my teacher contacted my parents and suggested I needed psychological counseling.

But I still got an A+. For a “creative plot.”

I decided to switch back to detective stories after this…