Lisa Knight's Blog, page 35

FAN FICTION: GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY #78 – WORLD WAR 3 BY ADRIAN J WATTS

What has come before….  Vance Astro, under the influence of the 31st century’s Venom symbiote, launched an attack on the Latveria of the 20th century, hoping to prevent Kristoff Vernard from surviving in the 31st century! Kristoff battled Vance, and Vance Astro fled, taking the infant Andre Scott with him! In the 31st century, the Galactic Guardians were joined by the Falcon, the 43rd century’s version of the USAgent, and they learned that Galactus, Ultron, and Alkhema are on their way! Finally, Whistler, the Centaurian member of Guardian Force, has formed an alliance with Wolverine and Blackwing, to save the other members of Guardian Force from certain doom at the hands of the mutant Shaddo, new ruler of the planet known as Haven II! And now, let us begin, for an epic adventure of this magnitude will wait for no man! (Unless of course you’re Galactus… but then you’ve got the ‘Surfer to wait for you… get it? Huh? Never mind.)

The Planet Centauri IV, fourth planet from the star Beta Centauri, in the 31st century*

[ * - You got it, that's Yondu's homeworld! - Adrian ]

Centauri IV, the fourth planet from the star Beta Centauri, and home to thousands of the blue-skinned, red-maned people known as the Centaurians. It is their prime world, the world from which all other Centaurian colonies are spawned. And is the one place in the sector capable of producing the rare Yaka metal.

But on this day, none of that is on the minds of it’s people. For as we speak, three Centaurians are already dealing with matters most grave, their bows and whistle controlled Yaka arrows aimed high.

“Quickly, my friends!” yelled the male Mendu Gratik. “We have but moments to mobilise our world’s defenses before his arrival. And I fear our Yaka arrows will be less than effective.”

“If not for that foolish Yondu, this day would not be upon us!” called another male Centaurian.

“Our goal is not to lay blame, my brother. Our goal is to defend our world from the wrath of Anthos!” Mendu said. And they would prove to be his last words. For as soon as they had left his lips, he, his friends, and indeed his entire world was stopped dead in tracks, stuck between moments. And in the shortest of spaces, in less time than it took for a Centaurian’s heart to beat, Anthos struck. He raised his yellow, jewel-encrusted gauntlet, and used its awesome might to level buildings. Purple fire struck from his other, bare hand, laying waste to a dozen Centaurians. And whether it was seconds, hours, days, months or even years later, none could say. All the Centaurians knew was that when they once again had control of their world, it was grossly changed.

“By Anthos!” Mendu cried, seeing his two comrades slain before him. “What has transpired?” And Mendu heard in his mind a voice that carried across the entire surface of the planet, entering the minds of the old, the young, the lame, everyone. It was the voice of Anthos, and it was not a pleased one.

“People of Centauri!” he said. “I am most displeased. Today, from within my own palace, someone dared to test my power. Two of my six sacred gems – and my gauntlet – were taken from my home. Right now, the other worlds over which I rule are feeling a fate the same as yours, at the hands of my servants – Death, Walker, and Terrax. I warn you now, however that the stolen gems are those of Soul and Power, and if not correctly wielded, they may spell the doom of their wearer! If they are not returned, you will once again feel my power. You have two days to comply before I destroy this world completely.”

Without another word, Anthos left the world of Centauri IV, with Mendu sobbing and trembling at the devastation that had befallen his world.

“Fear not, Mendu Gratik,” a voice said from the darkness. “We will help you.”

“Who are you?” Mendu said. “I cannot see you.”

“You will eventually see us, Mendu Gratik. But not today. My name is Adam Warlock, and my friends White Raven and Drax form the Infinity Watch. We will return when Anthos does, of that you may be sure. He will not destroy your world, Mendu. Feel safe in that knowledge.”

With a flare that illuminated an entire hemisphere of the planet, Adam Warlock vanished.

In a nebula lying equidistant between Centauri IV and Earth, 31st century

“Your offer does interest me, Ultron,” Galactus said. “But I still hold you badly in my thoughts for the injuries you inflicted on my foot.”

[ * - During the original Secret Wars series. Gee, Galactus has a long memory.... - Adrian ]

“It was well deserved, fleshling,” Ultron remarked. “Now answer – will you join our group, devourer?”

Alkhema, the only other being in the nebula, smiled a mechanical smile. She had never imagined the day where her creator and lover, Ultron, would seek help from a being of flesh. She let her mind roll back, recalling the data that corresponded to the recollection of the events that had led up to the present moment.

When the Martians returned to Earth in the year 2001, Ultron and Alkhema had been set upon by Martian tripods. They had proven incredibly easy to destroy, yet they knew that the Martians would most certainly lay waste to the human population. At first, Ultron considered destroying both the humans and the Martians himself, but then Alkhema had come across a new idea.

They could go to Mars, and kill the Martians there. And they set off for their new battlefield, leaving the Martians on Earth to harvest and destroy the human population. Ultron had not known at the time – and still did not know – that the only reason he made such a retrospectively foolish decision was because Alkhema had managed to alter his cerebral programming, so that he would accommodate her and allow her to flee the Earth. She hated to admit it, but she was scared of the Martians. When Ultron had first created her, he had taught her that her sole purpose in existence was to destroy all non-mechanical life, to ensure that none could evolve into a being that surpassed their power. This had instilled a sense of paranoia within Alkhema and caused her to be greatly afraid when the Martians, tremendously advanced, invaded the Earth. She wanted Ultron to go straight to their homeworld, and eliminate them at the source.

And they did go to Mars, but were shocked by what transpired there. The Martians captured them, and used a large supply of adamantium kept beneath the planet’s surface to create an adamantium army – and army they used for gladiatorial combat, based on the designs of Ultron and Alkhema! They were pitted in battle time and time again, and the two always won. And finally, they were accepted as the bodyguards to the head of the Martian invasion. And then they killed him. It had taken 75 years, but finally, Alkhema’s fear was destroyed, and she became every bit as evil and lethal as Ultron because of it. And finally, the Martians on Earth returned home, as per the orders of their new master. Ultron and Alkhema went back to Earth, only to find the planet ravaged and of use to no-one. They set out for the stars, searching for their own source of adamantium for use in creating mates.

They had finally found one. The moon Banyl, in the Ba system, orbited the planet Ba-Banis. The moon was constructed entirely of adamantium, which, thanks to Ultron’s internal molecular reorganiser, could be used to create more adamantium beings. But the amount of adamantium was simply too much to be utilised altogether. They needed someone capable of breaking it apart, and storing it.

They thought of Galactus. The Devourer of Worlds had not been seen for nigh on a millennium, due to injuries sustained at the hands of the Silver Surfer. But Ultron had finally found him, weak and dying of hunger, and proposed his plan.

“I will aid you, Ultron,” Galactus said. “But in return, I demand a new herald, one capable of besting even the noble Silver Surfer!”

“And you shall have one, devourer,” Ultron said. He pointed an adamantium finger at Alkhema. “Her.”

“Your proposal is acceptable, Ultron. And thus, I use the last of the power cosmic in my possession to alter her, to change her very being.” Galactus stared deeply at Alkhema, and her adamantium body began to glow. Her shape changed, becoming more round and soft, rather than the pointed, hard form she had once had. Two huge “energy wings” appeared on her back, and finally, in her hand, appeared an adamantium spear. “I shall call you Primus.”

Alkhema nodded, accepting her new role. But then she turned on Ultron. “How dare you offer me, as though I am your possession, Ultron? I now surpass even your might. You would do well not to anger me.”

“Silence, Primus!” Galactus boomed. “You may surpass Ultron’s might, but not my own. Attack him, and I shall destroy you.” Ultron smiled, an odd, metallic expression that was more fearsome than warm. He feared that he might come to… like this fleshling.

The Latverian border, 20th century

“He’s taken Andre?” Nikki gasped. “But Vance is mad! He could do anything to the boy!”

“True,” Martinex said. “But there is something that concerns me even more. Kristoff, where did you get the Infinity Gauntlet?”

Kristoff sighed. “I knew I would have to reveal it sometime. As you know, I was brought into the 31st century by the clone of Tony Stark in order to eliminate you and prevent you from interfering with the Punishers invasion of Earth. Well, I wasn’t the only Kristoff Vernard brought in. There were four others, and together, over a period of several years, we scoured the galaxy, with the Punisher army, raiding worlds and taking its technology.

“The last world we raided just happened to be the home of Thanos. He’s calling himself something else now, though. But anyway, in his hand there was a yellow glove, with six gems on it. I figured it was the Infinity Gauntlet, and after seeing what Thanos did with it to the heroes of this century, I thought it would be a good weapon. I took it, and the only two gems I thought worth having – power and soul.

“But I also have lots of other stuff, too. Like the shuttle, you just saw. Everything but the kitchen sink, taken from a thousand worlds.”

“A time machine?” Charlie asked.

“Well, consider that as having been poured down the kitchen sink which I left behind,” Kristoff answered.

“Why did you hide them from us?” Nikki asked. “You can trust us. After you helped fight the Beyonder, we figure you’re okay now. Aside from the adopted son of a megalomaniac part.”

“Well, that’s the problem,” Kristoff said. “I still work for Doom.”

“Whaaaaaaaaat?” Charlie asked. “You… you…” Charlie raised a fist in anger, ready to bring it down on Kristoff. But the young man hit a switch on his hip, causing Charlie to writhe in electrocution-induced agony.

“Remember that I still have control over you all,” Kristoff said. “Now, I only work for Doom now to prevent Vance from doing what he is attempting now. When we stop Vance, that’s the end of the contract with my ‘father.'”

“It better be…” Charlie said, now recovered. “Or not even these control devices will stop me from kicking your ass. Have you got a way to find Vance?”

“Now I do, yes. I had left Andre aboard the shuttle deliberately. I had placed a homing device on him, thinking Vance might kidnap him and use him to make his escape. Looks like he did.” Kristoff looked at a small sensor that grew in his hand thanks to Pym particles. “And they’re….. they’re in orbit!”

“What?!?” Charlie cried. “But… how could Vance get there?”

“I don’t know, Charlie, but he is there. And so is Andre. Everyone, get aboard the shuttle. We’ll intercept them.” Kristoff said and was promptly obeyed.

Haven II, 31st century

Logan extended his claws as he followed Whistler onto the rooftop of the building that Blackwing had turned into the base of the Haven II Rebellion. He wanted to be ready for any assault. It wasn’t just hit mutant longevity that had allowed him to survive since the 19th century. His instincts and battle skill helped tremendously. And now here he was, ready to take back the planet, to return it to it’s rightful ruler, the only remaining relative of its previous ruler Rancor.

But soon, he realised he wouldn’t have to fight at all. Well, he wouldn’t have to fight the mutant dictator Shaddo at all. For above him, two figures streaked across the sky. Logan, much to his chagrin, realised he recognised them both. “Terrax and Death,” he whispered. The two must have recognised him because it was he that they approached. Terrax landed first, moving straight over to Logan, and grabbed him by the shirt.

“Wolverine,” he sneered. “Where is Rancor?”

“Earth, bub.” Wolverine grinned as he reached out with a hand and severed Terrax’s right arm with his adamantium claws. “So get off.”

Terrax drew his scythe with his remaining hand. “Mutant, you will pay for this sacrilege when my master hears of it. Now… why has Rancor left?”

“Why do you care? I ain’t gonna help ya kill her,” Logan said.

“We shall not kill her. We are here on behalf of Anthos. He believes she may have taken his gauntlet.” Terrax said.

“Why do you call him Anthos, ‘rax? You know his true name.” Wolverine said.

“But these mutants do not.” Terrax responded. “And you would do well not to tell them.” Terrax turned to death. “Unleash the Nebulon.”

“Wha -?” Wolverine began but was silenced as Death withdrew a glowing purple orb from her robes. She twisted it, and suddenly an explosion rocked the city. “What the hell?” Wolverine grabbed hold of a nearby pylon and swung away, just as the building he had been on collapsed. He was relieved to see Blackwing flying off, holding Whistler in his arms.

“Go stop Shaddo!” he yelled to Blackwing. “I’ll take care of these two.” Wolverine swung back toward Death, and after leaping off the pylon and somersaulting into the air, he managed to kick her in the back, forcing her to drop her purple orb. It rolled off the side of the building, and into the street below. Wolverine swung at her with a clawed hand but was stopped by a blow to the neck by Terrax, knocking him unconscious.

“The audacity of lesser beings…” Death muttered. And then she and Terrax simply waited. Suddenly, what they had awaited occurred. BOOM! The explosion caused by the nebulon rocked the area, and the purple light it emanated allowed them to locate the lost artifact. They crossed the streets, eventually making it to the battlefield where Guardian Force had been fighting Shaddo and his army. But now, the battle was ended, the Nebulon’s explosion destroying Shaddo’s mutant army.

Terrax and Death swung into the battlefield, ready to attack either side. But as they began their attacks, rubble began to fall from above, and looking up they saw Blackwing and Whistler destroying the upper levels of a nearby building. The rubble caused everyone, especially Guardian Force, to scatter to avoid being hit. It was chaos.

“Sir, is this chaotic enough for you?” Whistler shouted down.

“Perfect.” Korvac, Guardian Force’s leader, replied.

“Good, then destroy those three!” Whistler shouted, indicating Shaddo, Terrax, and Death. Korvac obliged. He felt the power of Lord Chaos and Master Order flow into him, and then, by combining their power, he struck out at the three villains. They were hurled back, far, far away from the source of the chaos, to a place where order reigned. Wolverine swung into the battle shortly after, followed by Whistler and Blackwing landing on the ground.

“Well…” Korvac said. “Guess we can go back to Earth now, and help stop the Beyonder.” He looked at Wolverine for a moment. “Hey… you’re that Logan guy, huh?”

Wolverine nodded. “‘That’s my name, bub. Don’t wear it out.”

“That Guardian of the Galaxy Rancor said she was looking for you,” Korvac said. “We’re about to go to Earth. Wanna come with?”

“Er, sure,” Wolverine said and got aboard the Deathmonger III with Guardian Force.

The Deathmonger III entered Earth’s orbit, heading toward the Latverian city of Doomstadt. Its pilot, a man, named Spartan, was a little startled to see that the Beyonder was no longer on the planet. He landed the ship near Castle Doom and allowed it’s passengers to disembark. They were greeted by the Galactic Guardians, and a person from Guardian Force’s own future time period, the Falcon.

“Hey, everyone,” Blitz said, the first to get off. “Where’s the big, bad Beyonder?”

“He disappeared, Blitz.” Mainframe replied.

Korvac gulped. “Ah. So, um, I guess we better go take our punishments.” The other members of Guardian Force looked down at their feet.

“No,” Psy-knight said. “I’m sick of the Terran Empire. I’m not going, especially if the Emperor wants to punish us for not being able to take out a guy like the Beyonder. I’d like to see him try.”

“Yeah.” Spartan said. “I’m staying too.”

“I think we all will,” Blitz said, with a nod of agreement from Whistler.

Korvac smiled. “Here we stay then,” he said.

“Good,” Mainframe said. “Because we will need all the assistance we can obtain. Galactus, Ultron, and Alkhema are in the area, and we fear they are about to attack.”

Korvac nodded. “We’ll help, won’t we, G-Force?”

“Yeah!” they replied in unison.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wolverine said. “Where’s Rancor?”

“Over there, Logan.” Mainframe said, pointing off to a small dwelling off by the castle wall.

“You know my name? And you look familiar… You’re… the Vision!” Logan said, surprised.

“Yes.” Mainframe replied. “And you are the X-Man codenamed Wolverine. The relevance of this conversation is beyond me.”

Logan glared at the synthezoid and made his way over to the hut where Rancor was supposed to be. He entered and was shocked to see Rancor with Talon…. in bed together.

“Uh, hi…” Rancor said. “May we help you?”

Latverian border, 20th century

Kristoff Vernard’s shuttle launched itself at incredible speed into Earth’s orbit. It was capable of moving far faster than Vance Astro was, and it wasn’t long until they found him, aboard another spacecraft, heading for the space station orbiting the Earth. Kristoff punched up a communication frequency shared by the other craft.

“This is Kristoff Vernard of the Guardians of the Galaxy,” he said. “And one of our members seems to be aboard your ship. His name is Vance Astro.”

“Well, howdy Guardians,” came the reply. “But there isn’t a Vance aboard this ship. Got a Venom, though.”

“That’ll be him,” Kristoff said. “Can we meet you?”

“Sure,” came the reply. “Dock over on the SilverStar space station.” Kristoff proceeded to do so, landing the shuttle in a hangar aboard the space station. The other shuttle promptly landed, and out came a man with a very big gun, with Vance in tow; his hands shackled.

“This your Vance?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Kristoff replied. “Can we take him?”

“Not so fast, Guardian,” the man replied. “I was hired to bring in Venom. This is him. You’ll need to take it up with my boss. Dalton, get down here!” the man called. “Name’s Paradox, by the way. I’m a member of the Super Soldiers.” Kristoff nodded, not really caring. He just wanted Vance.

A bald man in a light grey uniform entered the room and approached Kristoff. “Name’s Dalton,” he said. “I hear you want Venom?”

“Yes.” Charlie-27 interrupted. “But you see, he isn’t Venom. He’s – “

“Silence, Charlie.” Kristoff cut him off. “We are the Guardians of the Galaxy, Dalton. From the 31st century. This Venom is the Venom of the 31st century, not the one you’re after. The man inside is our leader, Major Vance Astro.”

“Really,” Dalton said. “Perhaps we can work out a deal. You can take this Vance guy, and I’ll keep the symbiote. Deal?”

Kristoff turned to the other Guardians, giving them a questioning gaze. Everyone ignored him. Great, he thought, I knew they’d stop trusting me. “Deal,” he said.

Paradox led Vance away, to a holding cell elsewhere in the space station. “We’ll figure out how to remove the symbiote later,” Dalton said. “But now, it looks like you can all use some rest.”

Late that night, when everyone was asleep, Vance Astro smashed down the door to his holding cell. He could have done it at any time, he knew, but he wanted them to think he couldn’t, so they wouldn’t be watching while he attempted his new plan.

He crept along the corridors of the space station, surprised no alarms were sounding. Eventually, he managed to reach the station’s control room, but he noticed after a quick glance that the station had no weapons systems. Still, this did not matter. He’d just crash the entire station into Doomstadt! He began to power up the station’s engines and set a course when the alarms finally did sound. Electrical energy ripped through the control panel, blocking his access and electrocuting him. The energy was great enough to make him slump to the ground, unconscious. Dalton and Paradox entered, and carried the limp form to the medical bay.

The next morning, the Guardians of the Galaxy entered the space station’s medical bay, to find that Vance Astro had recovered from his injuries from the previous night. They also noticed that the symbiote was gone – and that his skin hadn’t completely aged as well! He was healthy again.

“Vance!” Nikki cried, running to her friend and giving him a big hug. “You’re okay!”

Charlie slapped him on the back. “Good to have you back.”

Vance nodded, accepting his friends’ praise. And their reaction made it so hard for him to say what he had to say, that he nearly backed out. “Guys…” he said. “I’m not staying with you.”

“What? Why not?” Nikki asked.

“It’s simple, Nik,” Vance said. “When I fought Kristoff in Latveria, the Venom symbiote told me that he was only making me do things I wanted to do but didn’t have the courage to carry out. He was right. And now I’ve realised that at the moment, especially since Aleta died, I don’t seem to be handling things too well. And, well, I don’t want to hurt you guys.

“So I got talking to Dalton here last night. Seems the Super Soldiers’ leader, some guy named Hauer, mysteriously disappeared a few days ago*. Their bosses heard about what I did when I trained with Cap and the Avengers awhile back, and they’ve offered me a place on the team until Hauer returns.”

[ * - He's gone off to the DARK GUARD LIMITED SERIES, by Bob Gansler at the Vigilante Branch! - Adrian ]

“So… you’re staying in this timeline?” Nikki asked.

“Yes. And, by the way, Paradox found Andre Scott. The kid’s safe, and Dalton has told me that the Super Soldiers should be able to take care of him.” Vance said.

“And your friend Yellowjacket has been admitted into a hospital in New York. She’s paralysed and cannot be moved at the moment, but she’s welcome to join the team when she does recover.” Dalton said.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Nikki said, hugging Vance once again.

“Yes. Farewell, my friend.” Yondu said. But Charlie and Martinex remained silent, not even acknowledging Vance’s decision.

“Vance,” Charlie said. “We’ll be on Earth until we can find a way to return to the 31st century. You’re welcome to come back to us if you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Vance said. But Charlie didn’t respond. He and Martinex simply boarded Vernard’s shuttle and waited while an emotional Nikki and Yondu boarded.

“Oh, wait!” Vance called. “I nearly forgot! Here’s the helmet we trapped Loki in when we were on K’Rann*.” He handed the helmet to Yondu, then stepped back as the Centaurian boarded the ship, and the engines powered up.

[ * - In GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY #66 - Adrian ]

“Bye,” Vance whispered as the Guardians’ shuttle rocketed to Earth.

CONTINUED IN: THE GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY YEAR 4 ANNUAL and GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY: BEYOND THE BEYONDER

NEXT ISSUE: Galactus, Ultron, Alkhema and their adamantium army launch their attack against Earth, while Mainframe travels to the 20th century in search of the Guardians. Meanwhile, Terrax gets word to Anthos about Wolverine, and Anthos decides to strike against Earth! Anthos’ true identity is revealed, and we will see the conclusion of Thor, Sif, and Meran’s little adventure on K’Rann.

Written by Adrian J. Watts of SoftPixels.net

BRYN FORTEY’S BOOK REVIEWS: BEST BRITISH HORROR 2014 (Edited by JOHNNY MAINS for Salt Publishing)

When Salt decided to add the horror genre to their list of annual bests, they certainly got it right when appointing Johnny Mains as the Series Editor. A writer, editor, publisher with an ever growing reputation, he is also an acknowledged horror historian with an overriding love and interest in the 1960s/1970s ‘Golden Years’ of such as Pan and Fontana. If anyone can make a success of this venture, he is the man.

In this first of what is planned to be an ongoing series, we are presented with twenty-one stories by twenty authors, all first published in 2013. Stephen Volk is the writer with two appearances. Well known for his television and film work, as well as his brilliant novella ‘Whitstable’; Volk certainly succeeds in stirring the senses, churning the emotions, and in places even heaving the stomach, in two very different but masterly offerings.

Anyone who has read my previous reviews on the Imaginalis site will know what a fan I am of Anna Taborska, so I was more than content to renew my acquaintance with her finely constructed fiction. Though their names are well known to me, I was less familiar with the work of Muriel Gray and Thana Niveau, something I need to put right after reading their contributions here.

Michael Marshall Smith and Gary Fry both offer left-of-centre point-of-view stories and Ian Hunter, who I previously enjoyed in ‘The Alchemy Press Book of Pulp Heroes 2’, came up with an explosive storyline. The award for longest title was won by Robert Shearman for a story of coldly polite manners. Polite that is, until… hmm, yes, ‘until’ indeed.

As is bound to be the case in an anthology, there are some stories I like better than others. A question of personal taste, a preference of style, but let me make one thing clear: there are no duds in this book. I can see why each and every one was selected and made the cut. The authors I haven’t found space to namecheck have all played their part in providing an entertaining and exhilarating reading experience.

Two more I will mention are Adam Nevill and Laura Mauro. The first is, of course, well known and deservedly so while the second was completely new to me. Both their stories spliced the all-important horror elements with the sort of weird threads that hit the spot and sends me back to page one for another helping. Great writing.

I said at the beginning there were twenty-one stories, but there is – sadly – an unwanted bonus at the end: a tribute to, and a story by, the late Joel Lane. Both go to show how much the man, and the writer, will be missed.

Well done Johnny Mains. I am sure that under his guidance this series will run and run.

FLASH FICTION: IN THE SEWER, YOU CAN’T SEE THE STARS BY GUY T MARTLAND

‘Hey! What was that?’

‘Relax, it’s just the wind. Why don’t you sit down and have another rat? This one’s been cooked.’

‘I’d rather not.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I feel like we’ve been in this sewer for so long that I’m becoming one of them!’

‘This was your idea… remember?’

‘I know… it’s such a charming spot.’

‘We’re all in the sewer, but some of us are looking at the stars.’

‘I keep wondering if they really exist.’

‘Just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there.’

‘Maybe they are a figment of my imagination?’

‘You think too much!’

‘Whatever…do you know when the train is due?’

‘It’ll be here—’

‘When? We’ve been waiting for four days.’

‘Patience! Now, can I tempt you with a bite of this tasty morsel?’

‘I’d rather starve.’

‘All the more for me then.’

‘For someone who likes their vegetables, you consume a lot of meat.’

‘Botanists are allowed to eat animals.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course.’

‘Is there any way that we can travel above ground?’

‘I’m afraid not. This train is our only option. The xenoc plants need sunlight to survive so we can only move around in a place where it never shines.’

‘Damn those weeds!’

‘I’m worried what will happen when we meet the pilot.’

‘Why?’

‘There are individuals in this world who don’t want the machines back.’

‘Does he think that our enemy’s actions were inherently good?

‘I believe so.’

‘Just because the Snouts sorted out our planet’s climate, it doesn’t mean that they were sent by a higher being. People really are ignorant apes. What in God’s name is it worth to be human, if we have to be saved from ourselves by machines?’

‘I don’t think he’s religious.’

‘What is it then?’

‘Trade. If you get those machines working, what’s he going to do? They’ll carry people around, and he’ll be forced into retirement.’

‘There are other jobs.’

‘He’s found his niche. Just like these mushrooms that have adapted to their environment.’

‘I couldn’t do it.’

‘They’re a fungus. That’s what they do.’

‘Whatever! How was the rat?’

‘In London, they used to say that you were never more than 6 feet away from one of their species.’

‘Where we are now, it’s more like three.’

‘You know, it’s hard to imagine…’

‘What?’

‘This place when it was full of commuters.’

‘I bet they never waited four days for their trains.’

‘Probably not.’

‘So, what do we do now?’

‘Wait.’

‘For how long?’

‘Until it arrives.’

‘Can you hear something?’

‘Just the wind.’

‘It always is.’

Written by Guy T Martland

POETRY: THE CRY OF LOVE BY PAUL TRISTRAM

I was looking through

my little book of ideas

and saw one called

‘The Cry Of Love.’

It instantly swept me

backwards in time

to when I was about

9 or 10 years old.

Sitting on a wooden bench

with some friends,

catching our breath

after returning

from the railway bank,

behind and below.

After killing hoards

of invading soldiers

(Japanese Knotweed)

with our trusty swords

(Broken broom handles).

The bench was situated

next to a railway subway

on the pedestrian pathway

that leads from the bottom

of Denever Road over to

the back of Jeffries stores

on the main road of Skewen.

A teenage boy walked out

of the subway very quickly

and not long after

a girl in tears appeared

and let out a scream

with such pain in her voice

“Don’t finish with me,

please, I love you!”

I had never before heard

anything so achingly

honest and beautiful.

I said to my young friends

“That must be what they mean

in those songs when they sing

‘Oh, my heart cries out for you’,

we just witnessed the cry of love!”

Written by Paul Tristram

STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: Mandible – Watermelon Chair

In the short time I have known about Mandible I have learned two things: NEVER listen to their music in the dark or without taking your meds and some people don’t like what they do. I like what they do very much, even when the end result is as puzzling as Kamikaze Sudoku, and as wacky as George Bush when he’s supposed to be serious. I know I have a marked predilection for the strange, but I also like music that is challenging, different in some way. Rock is what Mandible do best, but it ain’t like any kind of rock you might want to crawl under; it’s influences stretch from classic rock structures into Kiss-alike numbers such as They (and I suggest you have a listen to this track if you don’t believe me about the Kiss comment).

Watermelon Chair is a lot more like yer classic rock treatment, complete with original stereophonic mix just like it was back in the day. There’s a Zappaesque quality about this track, while being recognisable as something wetly Mandiblised and spewed lovingly into your earholes. It’s also a bit coitus interruptus because just when you are starting to get into the rhythm of the thing (if rhythm is a word that can be applied here), it shoots it’s load and is lying back smoking a cigarette. Mind you, the 2:28 of its puny frame provides more than a couple of high spots especially if you like your rock to roll, kick your head in and mess with your brain with a fearfully manic song (again, if song is a term that could apply here). The lyrics (if, etc….) are not complex and are quite straightforward (if, etc…..); they go ‘what you are doing is not acceptable by the majority. Why can’t you get along with my brothers?’ and I think it would be best if you recognise that their sing-along-ability is a bit lacking.

What isn’t lacking, however, is energy. That and splendidly manic innovation and a feel for the genre’s bedrock that is so on the money, it’ll give you goosebumps. I prefer Mandible’s more accessible material, but there is no denying that this little (makes a shrugging motion)thing has a charm about it that I am finding hard not to respond to. With its sudden slides from classic rock, through jazzy undertones, heavy metal basslines and drums that have the consistency of tin cans (BIG fekkin tin cans mind…), the more I played this the more I liked it. I think I’m probably a mad keen Mandible fan at this stage, but I can see no reason why others who like to look at things from a different perspective wouldn’t get into this just as strongly. When the lyrical section mentioned above comes in, especially. After a few plays, I have to say that was giving me the musical horn and no mistake. Dare to be different, dare to be masticated by the masters of not-rock-as-we-know-it-Jim…

Freaky deaky or wot? Highly Recommended and a Must Have if you are a fan already.

You can listen to this artist on SOUNDCLICK

Written by Steve Gilmore

STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: Monktrump – With You

Yet another artist I haven’t heard from for a while, Monktrump and I didn’t have a very happy start. It was only after the fourth or fifth track from him that I started to see there might be more here than met the ear, and since then I have had a couple of pleasant surprises from him. Nothing startling mind, but definitely something worth checking out – especially if rock is something you have a preference for. My initial feelings about his work revolved around his arranging and production skills, and as I now read, that has been the bulk of the complaints I have levelled against him and as I say, he does seem to have surmounted those problems admirably.

I have to say that With You didn’t really register with me that much on first plays and I suspect the same might be true for you unless you already know and like this artist. There is a basic feel about this track that may well prove off-putting for a more casual listener consisting as it does with little more than bass, drums, guitar and voice. Such a combination has paid off a million times in the past I know, but it does take a certain amount of nous to do it properly. Unfortunately, in my very miserable view, I don’t think that With You is strong enough as a song to really pay off because I don’t really have a lot of problems with the way it is put together.

I did like the lyrics on their own but somehow when they are allied to the music; it just doesn’t come off as powerful as the words make it sound. On the plus side though, there are some very good sounds going on in this track especially the sharpness of the guitar which gives it the requisite ‘jangle’ I find melts even the hardest of hearts (ie mine). All in all, I think Monktrump can be well pleased with turning in a very workman-like effort but again it isn’t something that finds much favour with me even after repeated plays. There again, as Monktrump knows only too well, I am notoriously difficult to please and I think I’m probably a lot more critical than a great many SC rockhounds so I don’t think he has that much to worry about.

You can listen to this artist on SOUNDCLICK

Written by Steve Gilmore

POETRY: GIVE THEM ENOUGH GROUND AND THEY’LL WALK ON IT BY PAUL TRISTRAM

Like moths to a bright flame,

metal filings to a magnet,

they sense that you are different.

That you think in a unique way.

Live outside of the box

that most people are born and trapped in.

You do not care for their rules

and opinions and way of life.

For you are too busy inventing

your own as you go along.

They will flock to you,

the women will want to sleep with you,

to marry you, to own you.

The men to be your friend,

your best friend, your important friend

the only friend that matters.

You will listen to them, watchful,

drink with them until it gets stale.

And they will ‘turn’

because being with you

will not be enough.

They will hate you

because by being by you

reveals just how shallow and lost

they really are.

Then they will scheme in the shadows

to snuff out the light

which they were once drawn to.

With venom and hatred

because that light is rare,

it’s a unique soul

and it shows the soulless

just how miserable and base

in envy, jealousy and bitterness

they really are.

There is no help for their kind

they are the shit beneath your boot

scrape them off and keep walking on.

Let them applaud their own devilment

as you enter into new realms

of destiny and glory.

Written by Paul Tristram

STEVE GILMORE’S MUSIC REVIEWS: dcallen – Watching the Moment Slip Away

I did a count of the number of times I have mentioned this artist over the past few years and got a total of over 40 separate times. THAT, believe it or not, is amazing, and it came as much of a shock to me as it may do to you. That’s because, over the years I have known him, dcallen has become a kind of standard I judge OTHER electronica by since he has long surpassed what I call the ‘normal’ electronica crowd. Although Soundclick has (and has always had) a large electronica community, there haven’t been that many REAL notables come from it IMHO. In fact, I could pretty much count them on two hands, and there is no doubt that Dave would be in that bunch somewhere.

It was noticeable that I included dcallen as a SC Big Beast in my 2005 year end Stevies, and that was in a year that was extremely quiet on the new release front. That was on the strength of his ‘rock’ collaboration Bad Karma Gonna Get You (July 2005) and if you hear nothing else from this artist I definitely suggest you don’t give this track a miss. As good as it ever gets. Dave says he makes ‘melodic electronic music for people who don’t like electronic music’ and I think I would have to agree with him. Alongside someone like Bonamici, these guys definitely stretch the definition of what constitutes electronica. Mind you, rather than listening to my endless platitudes about this fine artist get yourself over to his page and taste some of this for yourself, and you’ll see why he has such a following. Watching the Moment Slip Away is billed as Electronica: Ambient but – as usual – it’s much more than that.

There’s a definite wandering into Bonamici territory here because – to my ears – this is much more a soundtrack feel to this. Either that or it’s the LSD just kicking in :D The thing that I’ve always liked about Dave’s work is his attention to sound detail, each instrument lovingly tweaked to bring out it’s best flavours and Watching The Moment has this in shedfulls. I have to be honest and state that this laid back, lets-all-have-a-nice-sleep routine, isn’t usually something I go for, but -as usual – Dave makes it more than worthwhile. As I say, it’s been a while since I have heard from this artist (he has been extremely busy with other things) but I do hope this means a return to the release schedule of the past. As we all know, you can never get enough of this kind of quality.

Class act and no mistake.

You can listen to this artist on SOUNDCLICK

Written by Steve Gilmore

WEEKLY SERIAL: THE MONSTER OF BELL ISLAND – PART 8 BY JON OLSON

      In 1942, while the world was distracted by global conflict, Dr. Roswell started experimenting on humans. In order to conduct his research, without state interference, he needed a place where Obscurity City’s officials had no jurisdiction.

      Bell Island provided him with that.

      A few hundred yards from the shore there was an old concrete bunker which housed his controversial Freak program. As he needed to keep its contents secret, all forms of external lighting were banned.

      Thus far, no one had discovered Roswell’s lair.

      Its existence was classified.

      The doctor, who came from another world, used night vision to get around. As he approached his lab, which had been shrouded in darkness, a group of armed guards suddenly appeared from nowhere.

      They walked towards him with their weapons drawn.

      Dr. Roswell smiled as he was surrounded in complete and utter silence.

      The Freaks had been bred to obey his every command. If asked, they would’ve opened fire and killed every last person on Bell Island.

      “We have an intruder,” he said. “Find him.”

      The soldiers nodded before marching in all directions. They were like an angry group of ants whose colony had been plundered by outside forces.

      Roswell’s secret bunker could only be accessed via a steel door that was programmed to his DNA, so he placed one hand on its cool surface and waited for it to open.

      Once inside, the air turned stale like earth that had been starved of nutrients.

      He walked towards another door and then made his way down a set stairs.

      As Roswell descended into further darkness, the doctor started thinking about Mammoth. He’d heard talk of this strange creature who would break up fights in order to pick up women.

      Now he knew those stories were true.

***

      Chief Bull was walking across an empty parking lot, thinking about Dr. Roswell’s pursuit of Red Pressman, when someone tapped him on the shoulder with their pistol. For a moment, Nancy thought that one of his colleagues might be about to try and kill him.

      “What do you want?” he asked.

      There was no fear or concern in his voice.

      “Answers.”

      “I ain’t saying nothing until you put your gun away.”

      Officer Pressman hesitated, and then slowly lowered his weapon.

      “Who is Dr. Roswell?”

      “A shrink,” Nancy said whilst slowly turning to face the rookie.

      “So, why has no one heard of him?”

      “He’s new,” Bull replied. “Just transferred in.”

      “What happened to Dr. Tide?”

      “Look, kid, there’s more to this than meets the eye. If you want answers, get yourself onto Bell Island.”

      “Is that where Carl is?”

      “I’ve told you where to go,” Bull said before letting out an extended sigh. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home for some shut eye.”

***

      Mammoth was walking along the shore when a swarm of hungry mosquitoes started to gnaw on his fur. He felt like screaming with rage as their wings produced a high-pitched buzz that filled his eardrums.

      “Damn these little critters!” our protagonist shouted.

      He decided to walk towards a small forest that was only yards away from his present location. The sand would make progress difficult, but defeat had never been a part of Mammoth’s make-up.

      Our hero suddenly started thinking about Obscurity City.

      He began to wonder who might be looking for him.

      At least on Bell Island there was a chance that its legend might protect his liberty.

      If anyone did see him, it would only bolster the monster’s reputation.

Written by Jon Olson

FLASH FICTION: A DRINK WITH THE BOTANIST BY GUY T MARTLAND

‘How can I cross the wilderness?’

‘One can only undertake such a journey by understanding who they will face when they get there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Earth is slowly being consumed by an alien force. The Xenoc plant.’

‘They’re just a bunch of weeds…’

‘Do you know how dangerous these things are? The Heartskin (Croceus pruriocardiotoxicus) can make your skin blister before it turns cardiotoxic.’

‘I’ve never—’

‘Then there is the Creepweed. It’s highly poisonous as their rhizomes are prehensile. This means that once you’ve been infected its enzymes will slowly digest you.’

‘I’m not sure—’

‘Then there are the Xenophants who graze on Earth’s green pastures of alien botany. Their drones protect them like Fenix’s machines used to look after us.’

‘How—’

‘They use Harvesters to collect their food.’

‘If our machines can cleanse the planet of these plants, humanity might be able to survive.’

‘How do we do that?’

‘Find Fenix.’

‘What makes you think he’s still alive?’

‘I have no choice but to believe he is.’

‘Why?’

‘If he’s dead then the machines will never be switched back on.’

‘What will that mean?’

‘Annihilation.’

‘So, you’re saying—’

‘Have you ever read Fenix’s almanac? I’ve heard that it holds the key to an ancient machine called a Pyromecha. It can breathe fire!’

‘An elemental?’

‘This piece of technology could be a friend to humanity.’

‘Sometimes, they are the only things we can rely on.’

‘I like your optimism.’

‘I’d rather have that than be plagued with pessimism. Here, have a sniff of this…’

‘Wow! That’s strong.’

‘It’s a distilled version of the Heartskin flower.’

‘Aren’t they supposed to be bad for your heart?’

‘Part of it is. The flowers are okay as they contain carbohydrates that can undergo accelerated fermentation. Here, have a glass…’

‘I’m not sure—’

‘I don’t need you to drink it. My point is that even in troubled times, we can make something from the bleakest of situations.’

‘So, you think we have a chance, out there?’

‘Who knows? I have hope. A desire to survive.’

‘That fire is your friend.’

‘It is a pleasure to burn.’