Doug Dandridge's Blog, page 23

Will Aliens really be the flower children of the Galaxy?

I write mostly military based science fiction and fantasy. It is my preferred niche. I think that the conflict really drives the story. What would a fantasy story be without conflict other than My Little Ponies? Science fiction can have other forms of conflict; man against planet, against space itself. Some people even believe that once we get established in space humankind will give up its warlike ways. I really don’t believe it. We are hard wired to be aggressive and territorial, just like the apes we came from. We’ve taken it to a whole other level of course. Most apes don’t kill within their own species, while that seems to be out preferred method of operation. Now we are carnivores, or at least omnivores. Are herbivores capable of intelligence? And if they are, can they be aggressive? I think anyone who has seen a charging rhino or a snorting bull would agree they definitely can be aggressive. Are all intelligent species aggressive? I guess they really don’t have to be until they run into a truly aggressive species and then it’s either learn war or go under. And can we actually change our natures through nurture. Can humanity become a totally peaceful species through psychology or drugs? And would we really want to make ourselves so helpless?

One of my favorite Larry Niven stories came from the known space series. Mankind has become the peaceful we don’t study war no more species that many flower children wished it to be. Anyone who used a fist on another person was brought in for treatment and reprogrammed. History classes were even censored, and only certain qualified people were taught about past wars, lest the delicate sensibilities of the rest of the race be disturbed (and maybe someone get ideas about conquest of fellow humans). So some of these peaceable humans, who happen to include one of those who took the forbidden history courses, are in a feeble sublight Bussard ramjet on its way to one of the human colonies, pulling a tenth of a gravity acceleration. Up comes a big hawking sphere decelerating at two hundred gravities, which means the aliens either have much superior tech to the humans, are much tougher, or both. Their tech is really superior in some respects, and the humans believe that any species that advanced must be peaceful. Switch view into the alien spaceship, which is manned by three meter tall, one thousand pound catlike creatures called the Kzinti. Kzinti are not peaceful. Their whole rationale for living is to hunt and to conquer. They prefer their foe to give them a good fight for the sake of honor. But they’ll take their subject races as they find them, and this looks like a perfect subject race. Too feeble to win a war, but with enough acumen to become good slaves in a high tech society. The humans win by a fluke. They use their com laser to cut the alien ship in half before the Kzinti realize it is a weapon, and the humans send a signal back telling the home world that the good times are over.

I do believe there will be conflict in space, whether it is between humans or between humans and aliens. Despite all of the talk of morality by the world’s religions, the morality of many people is simply to get what they can by whatever means possible, including force if they can get away with it. I am sure that many alien species will have representatives of the same kind of moral code. There was a saying that was popular back in the sixties and seventies that it took two to make war. Actually it takes two to make peace. It only takes one to make uncontested conquest, with armies rolling over the borders to take life, property and freedom. If the invasion is contested then it takes two or more, and the name of the activity is then called a war. I don’t think many people or groups will allow themselves to just be steamrolled without a fight. And from that determination will come armed conflict, now and in the future.

Filed under: Alien Invasion, Antimatter, eBooks, Fantasy, Far Future, Fusion, Future Prediciton, Future Warfare, Interdimensional Travel, Kindle, Military, Multiverse, Near Future, Nuclear Weapons, Plotting, science Fiction, self publishing, Space Navy, Tropes, Writing Tagged: Aliens, intelligent species, Kzinti, Larry Niven, Military Fantasy, Military science ficiton

Aura, A High Fantasy

Aura is the last of the novels I wrote in 2010, which included Daemon, Afterlife, and the first two books of both the Exodus and Refuge series. I wasn’t sure when I was going to release this book, but decided the end of this month would be a good time, as there has not been a long enough disconnect between the first draft of To Well And Back and the first rewrite, and I don’t have enough of the next Exodus and Refuge books ready to think about finishing in that time frame. So Aura it is. After that I have three first drafts I wrote this year that still need to go through the full revision cycle, and everything else that is still unfinished.

I call Aura a High Fantasy, though there are no Dwarves, Elves, Orcs or others. But it is set in a magical world in which the technology is about Medieval or earlier level, maybe about the time of the Greeks. The world is populated by humans and the Gods they worship. Each God is the manifestation of an Animal, and there be Dragons in this world. The Gods all occupy a mortal Avatar on the world. The Good Gods join in a symbiosis with the Avatar. The Evil Gods simply take over the Avatar, destroying the soul of the possessed human in the process. Needless to say, very few vie for the honor of being an Avatar of an Evil God. People on this world all (or at least most of them) possess a magical Aura, hence the name of the novel. Those with powerful Auras can become powerful wizards or priest, wielders of great magics. People with normal Auras become the common citizens of the realm, while those with weak Auras are doomed to become slaves or servants because of the ease at which they can be manipulated. And those with no Auras? They are seen as abominations, especially in the Realms of the Evil Gods, as they cannot be controlled or affected by magic. Magical creatures can still kill them, and the byproducts of magic, such as burning buildings, can also affect them, but magic cannot directly work its power on their bodies.

The story revolves around fraternal triplets born to the headman of an out of the way village in the Empire of the Dragon God. The female of the trio is born with a more than double Aura, making her a prize to the priesthood. One of the boys is born with a less than average Aura, meaning he is destined to a life of servitude. While the last boy is born with no Aura, and is an abomination in the eyes of the Church. The parents hide all of this information from the authorities in their village without a Priest. But one day the Church gets word of the female child’s abilities and a priest is sent to test her and bring her back to the Capital, her fate to become an Avatar of the Dragon God upon her achieving adulthood. When the priest comes to the village he also discovers the abomination, and the fate of all the children is set in motion. The parents are killed, the daughter and the one son are gathered to be sent to the Capital, and the last son is on the verge of extinction when he is rescued by a man representing an organization of assassins who kill servants of the Evil Gods. The tale then revolves on the three growing up in their separate lives, until it is time for the sister to be sacrificed and made the Avatar of the Dragon God.

Aura was written as a novel that could be expanded into a trilogy, or left as a stand alone, depending on the reception it receives. And now for an excerpt showing the children at a very young age:

“Aiden, stop,” yelled the four year old girl, her long blond hair swirling in the wind that she had manufactured. Her younger brother, her triplet by birth, stopped in place as if he had hit a wall of air, his face screwed up in concentration as he fought against the force that had paralyzed him. But he did not have the power to resist, and was stuck as a fly in molasses.

The other four year old, a blond image of his brother, ran around the two of them, yelling at the top of his lungs in joy. The little girl gave him her best small child scowl and pointed his finger at the child.

“Arlen, stop,” she yelled, feeling the power building up in her, her Aura flaring. The other boy stuck his tongue out at her and continued his run.

“Now you stop that at once, Ariel,” yelled a woman who resembled all the children, hurrying in from the garden with a load of tomatoes and cucumbers she had just harvested. Margath Kleco glared at the child. “You do not use your power that way on your brothers.”

“Why?” said the child, her wide blue eyes looking at her mother.

“Because it’s wrong,” said Margath, looking down on the child. Aiden started moving again, his sister no longer concentrating on him.

“Why?” asked the little girl again, sticking her lip out.

“Because I will tan your bottom if you do it again,” said Margath, raising her voice. Ariel looked as if she wanted to do something, throw some of her power at her mom. She looked down, seeming to think better of it, then shrugged her little shoulders and ran away.

Margath shook her head and walked into the house. The finest house in the village. The wonderful village that was off the beaten path, where the priests rarely visited. She pushed the door closed and walked to the kitchen, dumping her apron load on the counter.

“Altonas,” she yelled out, listening for a response.

“I’m in my study,” called out her husband, the most powerful man in the village. The slave of their overlords.

“Did I hear you yelling at the girl again, dear,” he said, looking up from his desk where he worked on the figures for the village taxes.

She gave her husband a smile. She knew that he would do his best to make sure the priesthood got as little as possible while still satisfying their greed. And keeping as much of the production of the farming village as possible in the hands of the farmers. It was a risky proposition, and one of the reasons she loved him.

“She is insufferable,” said Margath, shaking her head. “She constantly torments Aiden. Some day she will grow too powerful for me to handle. And then where will we be?”

“But she cannot handle Arlen,” Said Altonas with a smile. “Perhaps he will protect us, when she has too much power.”

“Laugh if you wish,” cried Margath, her voice rising. “This is serious. How will she turn out but to be another evil priest or magician in this evil land.”

Margath turned away as Altonas rose from his chair. He hurried after her, grabbing her arms at the shoulders and turning her into his embrace.

“I’m so sorry, my darling,” he whispered into her long blond hair. “I didn’t mean to offend. But what can we do but try to raise the little hellion the best we can.”

“Why can’t we leave here?” she cried, looking up into Altonas’ eyes. “Go some place the Baalra’s priesthood doesn’t rule. Some place where we can be free, and even Arlen will be safe.”

“And where would that be?” asked Altonas, releasing her and walking back to his desk, reaching for his pipe and pipe weed. “Any place in the eleven regions and we would still be under the scrutiny of those Dragon worshipers. And we would be strangers, with everyone watching us closely, hoping to curry favor with the priests.”

“Then out of the Empire?” she cried, watching Altonas load his pipe and chant the words to light it.

“Where?” said Altonas, holding his hands out. “To the south, over the Hamalsar Mountains? To Vendahas? They worship Seteth, and that serpent bastard is just as bad as the dragon?”

“Then to the Horse Lords,” said Margath, pleading.

“True, they worship Narosta, the Horse God, who is an enemy of Seteth and Baalra,” said Altonas. Margath’s frown changed to a smile at those words, but her husband wasn’t finished. “The people are savage warriors, with no trust for anyone from our lands. They would most likely kill us as soon as they laid eyes on us. Which leaves the Pirate Islands. We are not pirates. And I have no desire to become one.”

“Then we are doomed,” cried Margath, tears brimming at her eyes. “Ariel is doomed to become one of those monsters. Arlen is doomed to be destroyed as an abomination. And Adien, if he is fortunate, will live a life in servitude to the monsters who serve to dragon God.”

“We can only do the best we can,” said Altonas, letting a puff of smoke out of his mouth. “And pray to the good Gods, the Gods of life, for deliverance from this evil that infests our land.”

“Like the people have done for centuries, when the priests aren’t looking,” said Margath, huffing back her snotty nose.

“Just like that,” agreed Altonas, nodding his head.

Filed under: Armor, Dragons, eBooks, Fantasy, History, Kindle, Magic, Military, Plotting, self publishing, Sword and Sorcery, Titles, Tropes, Writing Tagged: Aura, Dragon God, evil god, evil gods, high fantasy, Horse God, magical creatures, wielders

Exodus: Empires at War: Book 2 is coming Tomorrow.

Exodus: Empires at War: Book 1 was the surprise novel of my writing Universe. I had originally planned for a book promotion at the end of November for the novel, after a promotion of The Shadows of the Multiverse that was to propel that book to the same sales level as The Deep Dark Well. It didn’t work that way. Exodus Book 1 just seemed to take off as soon as it was released, selling over a thousand copies in its first six weeks. This week it has hit over 1,400 sales, and I fully expect it to go over two thousand by the end of the month. What surprised me was that Shadows had a bunch of five star reviews prior to its promotion, while Exodus started selling with no reviews and no likes. Now it has two 5 star and four 4 star, as well as a 3 and a lowly 1 that really didn’t make any sense. Oh, and still only one like, which leads me to question whether likes mean anything at all.

Tomorrow I will release Book 2 of the series, which in all respects is a continuation of the storyline told in Book 1. This will not always be the case with this series (and I am planning between 12 and 15 books in the series). There will be some spin offs that will feed into the overall tale but involve different characters, with only Cameo appearances by the main cast. Hopefully the 1,400 readers who have already bought the first book liked it enough to pick up the second. For those unfamiliar with the storyline, Exodus III is the name of the one refugee ship known to have escaped from the Ca’cadasan Empire, a large expansionist race whose goal is to exterminate humanity for a breach of honor during their conflict. A human killed the son of the Emperor during a landing after the humans in that system had surrendered. The human race sent a number of ships containing fifty thousand refugees each and the sum total knowledge of the humanity. One is known to have escaped, and fled ten thousand light years on a thousand year voyage to another arm of the Galaxy, where they have reestablished themselves. A thousand years later and the New Terran Empire boasts thousands of inhabited worlds and a population of about a trillion. They are the preeminent military power of their region of space. And the Ca’cadasans have found them, setting up a clash of mighty Empires that will ravage hundreds of worlds and kill hundreds of billions.

It is also the story of a young man, an Imperial Prince, who is a serving officer on an Imperial Battleship. Sean Ogden Lee Romanov is a very junior officer aboard the vessel, a Lieutenant SG, third in line for the throne. The posting is one intended to give him some experience while not putting his life in danger. Reality soon overtakes this illusion, and Sean finds himself first in danger of his life, then in a position he had hoped to never occupy.

Exodus is a story with a lot of characters covering an enormous expanse of territory. I did not feel that the tale could be told in any other manner. It can be confusing to some readers. Think Harry Turtledove if you want an idea of the style. It also contains a lot of technical data, some real, some made up. Think David Weber without long info dumps. It is the kind of tale I always wanted to write, while being told that first novels can’t be too long or have too many characters. This is not my first novel, and as a self published author now I make the rules. And so far sales seem to have shown that I made the right choice. And now for an excerpt:

Gabriel Len Lenkowski had enjoyed his job as Chief of Naval Operations. Of working with the Fleet, and in particular with this Emperor. But the Emperor was gone, and he knew little about the son who was now first in line for succession. If he was still alive, that is.

The Admiral looked out over the city as he walked along the roof of the Hexagon, the military headquarters for the Empire. The huge office building stood almost a kilometer in height, dwarfed by the many megascrapers of the city. It outdid any of them in girth, more like an Arcology than an office building. And it extended under the earth for several more kilometers, ending in the bunker like shelters that were proof against all but heavy kinetic rounds or warheads in the gigaton range.

“You ready to launch?” he asked the crew chief as soon as he entered the shuttle that was waiting on the landing platform.

“As soon as you strap in, sir,” said the senior CPO who chiefed the Admiral’s personal craft. “You of course want your usual position?”

“Of course, chief,” said the Admiral, walking past the crewman to the cockpit hatch, which opened at his approach. Len slid into the chair next to the pilot and strapped himself in.

“Welcome aboard sir,” said the pilot, a young Lt. Commander. “Wish the circumstances were better.”

“Me too, Sally,” said the Admiral, trying to force a smile on his face that would not come. “Me too. Just get me up to the Valkyrie pronto, and we can get this business over with.

The pilot nodded, checked a few indicators, and took the ship up on grabbers. The Admiral looked to the side at the huge city that just the other day was in the middle of a millennial celebration. Supposed to last a whole year, thought the Admiral. There had been events planned out for the entire T-year, to culminate in the Imperial Athletic Games that would have brought maybe a billion people to the planet. Instead we have a yearlong period of mourning for an assassinated Emperor.

The shuttle passed over Peal Island, the nine hundred square kilometer land mass at the mouth of the bay. Down there was the primary academy for training officers of the fleet. Len was scheduled to make a commencement speech for this year’s graduating class, those who had spent their four years of classroom studies and were preparing to go on field studies. He wondered how the war the Emperor knew was coming would affect that graduation. The fleet would need more officers, and soon, and many of those young men and women might have to get on the job field training, in a shooting war.

The island and the surface of the ocean dropped behind and below as the ship moved into space, pulling the gravities needed to go directly to geosynch and the ship waiting for the Admiral. He trusted the Captain of that ship, as he trusted the Admiral of its task force. He could not force them to take the risk that he knew he must. A risk to both free an innocent woman, and get military necessary production back on schedule.

The forward port hanger of Valkyrie was ready for him, with a full Marine honor guard and gathered ship’s officers to pipe him aboard.

“At ease,” he barked as he stepped from the shuttle onto the deck of the hanger. “Thank you for the welcoming committee, Captain Mathers,” he said to the blond commander of the vessel. She tilted her head, then led him to the flag bridge he would occupy for this short mission. The bridge was occupied by a full complement of officers, even though there would only be two battleships involved in this day’s events.

“I’ll be on the bridge,” said the Captain to the Chief of Naval Operations who had been commandant when she had graduated from Peal Island five decades before. “We are ready to do whatever you feel is necessary sir.”

“With no hesitation, Connie?”

“None at all, sir,” said the small trim officer. “If you want that damned wanderer destroyed we will be obliged to do it.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” said the CNO with a smile. “I appreciate this, Connie. Now get her under way.”

“Aye aye, sir,” said the Captain, snapping to attention and giving a salute, then spinning on her heel and walking from the flag bridge.

“We are under way, sir” said one of the officers sitting a station on the lower level.

“Odin is also under way,” called out another officer.

“Thank you,” said the Admiral, plopping back in the elevated chair that allowed him a total view of the large bridge. He couldn’t even feel the twenty million ton superbattleship moving, which was not surprising, given her well-tuned compensators. He looked over at a wall repeater which showed the fifteen million ton battleship that was Valkyrie’s consort on this impromptu mission.

“Ten hours to hyper limit,” called out an officer.

“Incoming message for the Admiral,” said the com tech from her position on his level.

“I’ll take it in my day cabin,” said the Admiral, getting up from the chair and heading for the exit that led to the Admiral’s cabin on all capital ship flag bridges. One of the advantages of standardization, he thought as he headed into his cabin.

As soon as he took a seat at the desk in the cabin he activated the com with his link, and was unsurprised to see the image of Ekaterina Sergiov, the head of the IIA, appear.

“So,” said the woman with a slight accent of her home world, St. Peiter, coming through her educated overlay. “You are in space.”

“I don’t see that I have any other choice,” said the Admiral, the slight touch of fear in his chest. He was doing this on his own, and the consequences could be grave. “I failed my Emperor and my friend. I can’t allow the search for a scapegoat to hurt the Empire. And what are your findings.”

“She is innocent,” said the head of Imperial Intelligence, her face troubled. “I have told that to my counterpart in IIB, and he will do nothing about it. He will not say it, but I think you are correct, Len, my friend. He needs a scapegoat, and is not willing to admit that he was caught with his pants down.”

“Hell, we were all caught with our pants down, Kate,” he said to the woman he had once been married to, in what seemed a lifetime before. Before their careers had pulled them apart. “I feel like I have betrayed Augustine myself, as if I launched that missile that tossed him and the Imperial family into that damned star eater.”

“We all failed the Emperor,” said the chief spy of the Empire. “At least we have admitted it on behalf of our two agencies. That damned McGregor would not admit to any failings. His Bureau must maintain a perfect record, even if we both know it doesn’t have one.”

“Did you try him again?” said the Admiral, knowing what the answer would be, but hopeful nonetheless.

“Yes,” said the woman, her angry eyes glaring into the screen. “He said it was a criminal investigation, and so in his jurisdiction. And warned me to keep my agency out of it. When I asked him about what proof he had, he said he didn’t have to have any. He could hold her indefinitely.”

“And sabotage the efforts of the Donut Project to get the Fleet what they need,” said the Admiral in a growl.

“How far are you willing to go?” she asked, her eyes showing her concern for an old friend and lover.

“As far as I have to,” he replied, slamming a hand down on his desk. “We’ll be eight light hours from com link to the capital, so they won’t be able to contact McGregor. I really don’t expect much resistance. But whatever they give I will push back, and harder.”

“I’ll back you up,” said Ekaterina with a nod. “You know that.”

“I know,” said the Admiral, feeling his eyes moisten. “And I’m sorry I failed you in the past.”

“No need,” said the spy master with a smile, her own eyes glistening withheld tears. “We both got what we wanted out of life. And we parted as friends. What more could we ask?”

“True,” said the Admiral, holding back his own tears. They both sat there in silence for a moment. “You watch your back,” he finally said to the chief spy.

“My back is watched,” said Ekaterina. “You do the same. There will be people after your hide.”

“This is my office for the duration,” said the Admiral with a chuckle. “If they want to try for me they’re going to have to come through the Fleet to get me.”

“I just hope it doesn’t result in civil war,” said the woman, her eyes narrowing. “That’s something we surely can’t afford, especially now.”

“We have the Fleet and the Army on our side,” said the Admiral, the image of a civil war also in mind. “I think it would be very short, if it came to that. Not that I want that to happen. But I also cannot let things proceed the way they are. McGregor is in the Lords’ pocket. No doubt. And I cannot let him proceed with what he is doing. That project is just too important to the safety of the Empire.”

Well, be careful,” said the chief spy. “Remember, we all felt that the Emperor was safe in the hands of the Fleet. It only takes one assassin in the right place to make all the security in the world useless.”

Ekaterina broke the link at that, and the Admiral thought of what she had to say for a moment. The sense of guilt came back to haunt him. The Fleet had failed to protect their Emperor. Even worse, a trusted member of the Fleet had killed the Emperor and most of his family, as well as fellow officers and spacemen. It was a blot on the honor of the Fleet, and to his personal sense of honor. But I’ll be damned if I let it lead to even more dishonorable actions.

The Admiral lay down on the bed that was provided with the cabin, ordering it through the link to set itself to his personal comfort level. His brain was in turmoil, but his link projected the deep delta waves that placed him into an immediate slumber. The link woke him up at the same time the slight nausea of hyper translation would have done the same.

“We’re in hyper I Admiral,” came the voice of Captain Connie Mathers. “Mission proceeding according to plan.

“Thank you, Connie,” replied the Admiral, getting up from the bed, smoothing his uniform, the wrinkles falling away. “I’ll be on the flag bridge.”

The officers and ratings all jumped to attention as the Admiral walked onto the second level of the flag bridge, his eyes tracking onto the large holo tank in the center of the room. He waved a hand, sending everyone back to their ease, wondering again who had come up with the silly custom of men and women stopping their important work to stroke the ego of some bastard just because he entered their line of sight.

The holo displayed the whole of the supersytem, from the black hole in the center to the seventh star out in its lonely orbit. All of the planets were indicated with vector arrows and numbers that signified speed of orbit and distance from the flagship. He thought through his link and his personal view of the holo changed, zooming in on the flagship and her consort. Their vector arrows appeared, and the line of the hyper I limit showed behind them, the line of hyper II ahead. The mission profile was to jump each hyper as soon as they got to it, staying below point two light relative velocity, until they jumped to hyper VI. Then it was a least time accel/decel profile to the target, popping out of hyper VI directly into normal space. Of course the target would know they were coming, and would also know they were Imperial Fleet vessels. With luck they would not think anything of it.

The Admiral went to his seat and sat, brooding on his thoughts and waiting for time to pass. The ship in time jumped up to hyper II, then III, then along the line up to VI. At this point the vessels went into an acceleration profile, two hundred and fifty gravities just a little under half way there, then two fifty decel the rest of the way. All this time the Admiral thought about what he was doing, having doubts, thinking through possible consequences, knowing that if the Emperor were still alive he would not have this problem thrust upon him. Augustine would have handled the situation with a word. Even Sean would have handled the situation. Of that the Admiral was sure. Because Sean was his father’s son, above all else.

But Sean is not here, thought the Admiral. Someone had already made an attempt on the Prince. And they might have made further attempts on his life since the news had come from Sector Four. Of course Sean was now protected by the Fleet. But the Fleet had failed his father, mother and brothers. The only family member in direct line was a child who would be too easily manipulated. So that left the problem square in his lap.

High Grand Admiral Len Lenkowski, Chief of Naval Operations, had sworn an oath when he entered Imperial Service, to defend the Empire against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Intentional or not, the act of Director McGregor of the IIB was hurting the efforts of the military to prepare for a war they were sure was coming. Parliament might not agree with that assumption, but the Emperor the Admiral had sworn to serve was sure of it, and that was good enough for him.

“Translating back to normal space,” came a call from the nav officer on the ship’s bridge.

Damn, thought the Admiral as the nausea struck. What happened to the time?

The ship slipped through the iris that was filled with normal space, away from the strange space of hyper. They were slowly coasting, moving at a mere six hundred kilometers per second.

“Range to target four hundred twelve thousand kilometers,” came the voice of the navigator again.

Almost a perfect translation, thought the Admiral. Eleven minutes at current speed, though the ship was now piling on deceleration so she could come to a stop just short of the small planet.

“Imperial warship Valkyrie,” came the voice over the com. “This is Purgatory control. What are your intentions?”

“Don’t answer that,” said the Admiral to the staff. “Let them sweat for a moment. Tactical. Target all laser and particle beam systems of the task force on their defensive weapons. Distribute targets between Valkyrie and Odin. All Marines to assault shuttles.”

The confirmations came back quickly, the plan being set into motion by an experienced team.

“We are getting inquiries from the defense force,” called the com officer.

“Who are they?” asked the Admiral, focusing on the holo tank which had reconfigured to show the local area.

“Imperial cruiser River Platte and two destroyers,” called back one of the tactical officers. “Along with four IP frigates belonging to the Imperial Bureau of Prisons.”

“Inform the Fleet ships that they are no longer under local control, but are to stand down and prepare to aid us,” ordered the Admiral, looking at the holo and focusing on one of the civilian ships. “Send my authentication codes.”

“And the Bureau ships?” asked the second com tech, looking over her shoulder at the Admiral. “They’re lighting my board, Admiral, sending multiple inquiries.”

“Tell them to also stand down,” said Len, glaring at the frigate he had brought into zoom focus. “Under pain of being fired upon.”

There, he thought, switching his view to another frigate. I’ve stuck it in for good now.

“We’re still getting inquiries from the planet,” yelled out the chief com officer.

The Admiral checked the status of the ship, noting that they were only thirty-four seconds from a complete stop. “Put them on the line.”

“Prison planet Purgatory,” came the voice over the com. “Valkyrie, what are your intentions. Repeat, you are approaching restricted space and are warned away. This is Central Control of Prison Planet Purgatory.”

“This is High Grand Admiral Lenkowski,” said the Admiral in his most forceful voice. “Chief of Naval Operations for the New Terran Empire Navy. We are here on official Fleet business. You are holding a prisoner illegally, and we will take her with us.”

“Launch,” said the Admiral, leaning over and looking at the Marine liaison officer.

“Launching,” said that officer. Moments later the holo was filled with the green arrows of assault shuttles, moving away from the battleships and toward the planet.

“You are not authorized to take prisoners from this installation,” came the voice of Central Control. “You must have permission of the Imperial Bureau of Prisons, or a court order to take a prisoner.”

“Nonetheless, we have come for a prisoner that you will release to my custody,” said the Admiral. “Prepare to be boarded by my Marines.”

“Their weapons are fully powered,” said one of the tactical officers.

“Any attempt to take anyone off this station will be met with deadly force,” said the Central Controller. “This is an illegal action, and will subject all participants to prosecution and arrest.”

“Please,” said one of the techs with a laugh.

“Do not fire on our shuttles,” said the Admiral, hoping the damned fools would see reason.

“They’ve fired a shot,” said the tactical commander. “No hit. Looks like a warning shot.”

“Take out all of their weapons installations, except for the fort,” ordered the Admiral in a cold voice. The tactical officer looked back at the Admiral with wide eyes. “Now, Commander.”

“Aye aye, sir,” said the Commander, turning back to his board.

There were eighty-five weapons installations on the planet’s surface, lasers and missile batteries, and three dozen platforms in space. The battleships opened up with all laser batteries and particle beams. In moments the installations, not made to stand up to capital ship bombardment, were silenced.

“The fort is sending capitulation signals,” said the com officer. “The naval personnel aboard have taken over.”

“I kind of thought they would,” said the Admiral with a smile. “Now I can only the hope the one on the other side of the planet does the same.” He looked over at the Marine officer. “Keep me apprised of the assault.” The officer nodded and kept at his board, talking into the com link.

“One of the frigates is firing missiles,” called out the Commander in charge of tactical.

“Take them out,” ordered the Admiral, knowing he didn’t have to give defensive commands. The captains in charge would see to that. The ship vibrated slightly at that thought, the battleship cycling counter missiles. There really was no chance that a frigate would shoot its way through the defenses of two capital ships.

The holo showed the reward that came the way of the frigate, as it exploded in space under the assault of hundreds of pentawatts of laser power.

“If any of those others are stupid enough to fire, blast them,” said the Admiral, his attention drawn to a high mounted side screen where the assault shuttles were blasting the doors of the hanger bays, then flying in.

The Admiral fretted for a couple of minutes, worrying about what might be happening during the Marine assault. Something he couldn’t do anything about, which made it so much more worrisome.

“We are meeting some resistance,” said the Marine Liaison Officer. “Nothing really unexpected, sir. And nothing our boys and girls can’t handle.”

Pray God we just keep the casualties light on both sides, thought the Admiral. He knew that none of those fighting was responsible for this mess. For the most part the prison security force were good men doing a job. And some of them were going to die for it because they were standing in the way of what should be done.

More time passed. The Admiral restrained himself from watching through the cameras of the Marines. There would be too much temptation to step in and micromanage. Something the Corps didn’t condone, much less the Navy.

“We have her, sir,” said the Marine Liaison Officer. “She’s in good shape. And the Colonel is also reporting some surprising prisoners we thought long gone.”

Len looked at the dozen names that scrolled across his link, whistling at some of them. Men who had disappeared, presumed dead. Held in captivity in that hell hole for how long? “Make sure they get aboard as well.”

Within another half hour it was over, and a signal sent to the IIB HQ on Jewel would still be seven hours in transit to reach anyone who could do anything.

“Everyone is aboard, Admiral,” said the liaison officer.

“How many casualties?”

“The Marines have three permanent dead,” said the officer, the smile leaving his face. “Another fifty-four that should all return to duty.”

“Thank you Lord,” whispered the Admiral under his breath. He didn’t ask the casualty figures for the defenders. He didn’t want to know. “Bring the prisoner to the flag bridge, if you please, Major,” he said to the Marine Liaison. That man nodded.

“Central Control,” said the Admiral, switching on the link back to the outgoing com. “We will be leaving now. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“You will regret this, Admiral,” said the voice of the controller.

I already do, thought the Admiral, again thinking about those who had died this day. He got up from his seat and headed back to the day cabin, staggering just a step as the ship jumped back into hyper VI.

A few minutes later the door buzzer sounded. “Come in,” he said, watching the door as it opened. An officer stood at the door.

“She’s here, Admiral,” said the man, gesturing the tall blond woman with slightly slanted eyes into the compartment. The Admiral nodded his thanks and gestured the woman to a chair.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what this is about,” said the Admiral, leaning forward across the desk.

“Not as much as I’m thankful to get out of that place,” said Dr. Lucille Yu, a smile creeping across her face.

“We’ll make sure you don’t return,” said the Admiral, noting the intelligent eyes of the woman. “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

“So,” said the scientist in a soft voice. “What happens to me now?”

“You go back to work,” said the Admiral. “Getting the Fleet what it needs from the Donut Project.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” agreed the Admiral, holding his hands open to her.

“And what’s to stop them from putting me back in that place?”

“We’re to stop them,” said the Admiral. “We’ll get you back on the station and keep you secure. It will mean having to give up some privacy.”

“But I’ll be able to work,” said the woman, tears coming to her eyes. “That’s all I want to do. Do my work, and help my society.”

And Len Lenkowski knew he had made the right decision this day. Now he just had to live with the consequences.

Filed under: Alien Invasion, eBooks, Far Future, Fusion, Future Warfare, Genetics, Interdimensional Travel, Kindle, Military, Nanotechnology, Plotting, Quantum Physics, Robots, science Fiction, Space Industry, Space Navy, Space Program, Titles, Tropes, Wormholes, Writing Tagged: Aliens, David Weber, Doug Dandridge, empires at war book, Exodus, Galactic Empires, harry turtledove, New Terran Empire, Purgatory, refugee ship, The Deep Dark Well, The Shadows of the Multiverse

RoseBuz and Book Bloggers

I recently did a guest post at Linda R Harley’s Site, Rosebuz. My post, entitled How much is too much science?, is a post on my theme of getting the science right in science fiction. I am appreciative of Linda for allowing me to guest post on her blog, that of a book blogger who reviews books and gets the word out about independent writers. She performs a great service for independent authors and the reading community, and I look forward to the review she has promised of The Deep Dark Well. I have contacted several other book bloggers who have agreed to do author interviews or reviews in the future, depending on their schedules. I hope that happens, as it is a great boost in publicity. I have also had some who promised to do something and then didn’t. I sent a great deal of information to two bloggers, as well as a copy of one book for review, only to hear nothing after. For one I actually bought a webcam for a video interview. I tried to contact that blogger (though they actually called themselves a promoter) and kept getting a reply that they were still interested. I finally gave up. If they want to contact me that’s great. If not, I move on.

I still am not really sure how much publicity or reviews play into the success of a book online. One book, The Shadows of the Multiverse, has five 5 Star Reviews and went through its five day promotion on Amazon. I had planned for it to be the next book to take off after The Deep Dark Well, only it hasn’t happened. So far less that a hundred sales, though I still have hopes that it will someday take off, and even if it only sells forty books a month for the next couple of years it will have been worth the effort. Another science fiction novel, Exodus: Empires at War: Book One, just seemed to take off on its own. 1,300 sales in seven weeks, without the benefit of reviews or likes, though it has some of each now. I can only figure that a lot of the people who downloaded The Deep Dark Well when it was free, or bought it afterwards, wanted another of my books to read, and skipped over The Shadows of the Multiverse. Currently I have my Steampunk Fantasy, Daemon, on promotion, and based on past performance, I have no idea how it will do afterwards.

Is the effort of publicizing a book, whether through promotion, reviews or book blogging, really worth it? All I can say is it can’t hurt. Over the weekend I tried another method. I put a list of all of my current book on a page at the front of each ebook, with hyperlinks to their sales page on Amazon. I have also placed a The Favor of a Review section at the end of each book, along with a hyperlink to that book’s sales page where the reader can easily post a review. Will that help? I have no idea, but again it can’t hurt.

Filed under: eBooks, Fantasy, Fusion, Future Prediciton, Golden Age, Kindle, Magic, Movies, Multiverse, Past, Plotting, Proofreading, science Fiction, self publishing, Titles, Tropes, Websites, Wormholes, Writing Tagged: book bloggers, books, Daemon, free kindle promotions, Publiciity, science fiction novel, The Deep Dark Well, The Favor of a Review, The Shadows of the Multiverse

Daemon: A Steampunk Promotion: Part 3

Today my Steampunk Fantasy Daemon is free on Amazon. As stated in the last two posts, Daemon is a novel about a magical society trapped by their own devices. The world is dying while the magic used by the society sucks the life from the world. Even the still fertile portions of the planet are faded and sickly. Fewer children are being born, more mom’s are dying in child birth, and the population is declining. And most of the people are ignoring the situation as they try to get by the best they can. The world is in a hopeless situation, but there is hope. I won’t spoil the book, but I don’t like to write novels in which everyone dies, and the world is totally screwed, and that won’t happen here either.

The protagonist of the story is Detective Lieutenant Jude Parkinson of the City PD. Jude is a forensic mage, one who talks with the dead to find out what happen to send them into the other world. He solves homicides in this manner. But Jude also served time as an Intelligence Officer in the Army, a military with no other job but to keep the populace under control. He was trained in combat magic while in the service, and participated in some actions of which he is not proud. Parkinson lost his wife as she died in childbirth along with her baby, another victim of the dying world. He has since turned to alcohol to kill his feelings. His job would be in jeopardy if he wasn’t the only forensic mage on the department. And his last remaining companion in the world is the cat his wife loved so much. I had just lost my favorite cat before writing this novel, and I think the emotion of that experience went into the emotions of Jude Parkinson. It’s only a cat, unless it’s your cat. Now Jude is not the kind of man I would want to stake my future on, but he is the only thing that the world has. He must use his abilities to find out what is killing the employees of Daemon Corp. Only problem is Daemon Corp has secrets to hide, and they are the kind to kill over.

I really enjoyed writing this novel, and enjoyed reading it over again through the several rewrites and revisions it went through. While conceived as a stand alone, there is the potential for sequels. Depends on how well it does. Make sure to pick your free copy of Daemon from 12/8 to 12/12. And now for the excerpt:

Jude stiffened a moment as he felt the hard barrel of a gun shoved into his kidney. He shuffled forward, trying to delay while he brought a defensive spell up to his conscious. He could think of something that would take one of them out, maybe even all three if they lined up right. Not that these boys would be that stupid. They would know he was a Mage. And they all had guns.

“Move,” said the third man, shoving Jude in the back.

About forty feet in the alley branched both ways, running down the backs of buildings. Numerous doors opened onto the alley, all locked, Jude was sure. Fire escapes were all locked in place. Not that he would be able to climb to the roof with three men shooting at him.

“Stop right there,” said the man with the amulet, waving his gun in a gesture at what he wanted Jude to do. The three stood with weapons pointed at the Detective, their formation such that he could not line them up for a single burst of power, and they would not endanger themselves with a crossfire.

“What’s this about?” demanded Jude, looking from face to cold face.

“You been sticking your nose places where it shouldn’t be,” said the man with the amulet, the obvious spokesman.

“And where would that be?” said Jude, trying to gather the courage to do something before it was too late, and his body ended up here in a back alley where it might or might not be found for many days. A convenient power outage in this spot tonight and the Shadows might make sure there was no body at all.

“Don’t even think about it, wise guy,” said the smallest man, a guy with roving rodent eyes and the smallest piece. “I’ll put one in your gut and make sure you live till nightfall.”

“Shut up, Pete,” said the leader, glancing over at the small man, his gun never wavering from Jude’s face. “Of course we ain’t gonna leave you in pain, Parkinson. The boss didn’t say anything about leaving you to choke out your life in this damned alley. He just wants you to shut up. So we can make it easy, or hard.”

“And who is the boss?”

“Ah, that’s the rub,” said the amulet bearer with a smile. “It’s questions like that that got you in this mess in the first place. If only you had done what you was supposed to do, and solve the crime. I don’t like killing people. I really don’t. But it’s orders. And I always obey orders.”

“Sounds like typical Magara to me,” said Jude. Seeing the reactions on the faces of the others he knew he was right. “I’m surprised Steiner Stark wasn’t here to do this himself.”

“Enough talk, smart guy,” said rodent eyes, waving his pistol. “Get down on your knees.”

“Fuck you, rat face,” said Jude in a loud voice. His legs felt weak enough to make him fall to the position they wanted him in. But he would be damned if he would die on his knees.

“That’s OK,” said amulet bearer, pulling out a silencer and screwing it on to the end of his pistol. “On your feet, on your knees. Makes no difference to me. Be defiant. In a few seconds you’ll just be meat.”

The man finished attaching the silencer and aimed his pistol at Jude’s stomach. Jude could feel his testicles crawling up into his body. They were going to gut shoot him and leave him here to groan his life out. One of the worst ways he could think of dying, and it was going to happen to him. The energy was built up in his body. He could fling a spell at one of them, knock that man down, and fling himself at one of the remaining. He would still be shot down, but that would force them to shoot to kill. He tensed his muscles as he watched amulet bearer begin to squeeze the trigger of his weapon, a pleasant smile on his face.

Filed under: eBooks, Fantasy, History, Kindle, Magic, Military, Plotting, science Fiction, self publishing, steampunk, Titles, Tropes, Undead, Writing Tagged: Crime Drama, Daemon, Free Ebook, Kindle Promotion, Mage, Police Drama, Steampunk Fantasy

Daemon: A Steampunk Promotion: Part 2

As I said in my last post, I wrote Daemon in 2010, looking for something different to maybe attract an agent. I had read some steampunk that had fantasy elements in it and decided on that approach rather than the steam robots and battles of airships approach. I set the story in a world where magic had taken over for technology, and technology had stagnated for centuries in the steam era. Steamships, automobile, trains and even airships were still around as necessary components of society, but magic had taken the place of much of technology. Lighting, security systems, even labor by undead zombies, were the norm. And as in most societies, the rich had access to everything and the poor struggled to survive. Only living on the streets in this world brought other dangers, both from the negative energy Shadows and the establishment looking for life energy to power the magical grid for the use of the haves.

The name Daemon is significant in three ways within the novel. Daemon Corporation is the most powerful company on the planet, and supplies the magical energy to the grid through the execution of criminals, the slaughter of food animals (and some more unsavory killings), and some above the law acquisitions that become apparent in the novel. Lucius Daemon is the Big Boss of the Corporation, a member of the Council of Mages that runs the government, and one of the most powerful magic users on the planet. A pillar of society, he is also an evil man who will let nothing get in his way. And the creature that is after the members of Daemon Corp is a Daemon, a force of nature that comes to us from Greek Mythology. It is not really evil, not Demonic, but can be quite destructive in its actions. It is the unstoppable force that is killing people who have a connection to the corporation responsible for feeding magical energy into the grid.

The only foil to the magic using majority is The Church of God Ascendant, the one surviving religion from the days when there were hundreds of denominations on the planet. They see magic as the evil which has caused the world’s problems, and will not use it in their day to day activities, unlike the rest of society. They see their God as the only salvation. They know the end is coming to the world of magic, and that the end will not be pleasant. But they are ignored by most of society. Remember to pick up your free copy on Amazon from 12/8-12/12. Now for the excerpt:

“So,” said Jude, attempting to keep his voice from cracking, and failing. “Where are we going?”

“Someplace really dry,” said Stark with a laugh. “Someplace where you can have some peace and quiet. And rest in peace.”

Jude didn’t like the sound of either of those. He tensed his muscles and released, seeing if he could get any slack in his bonds. He worked his fingers in the ropes and couldn’t tell if that had done any good. It didn’t seem to have. Just as he was about to try a spell another man came into the compartment and took a seat on the opposite bench, looking intently at Jude. Jude gave the man a questioning look and got a smile in return.

“Don’t try anything magical,” said the newcomer. “I am a trained Mage, and I am here to watch you. And to stop you.”

Jude grunted a reply, knowing that when the time came he would risk pitting himself against the man anyway. But the time had not come, and the airship continued out over the bay, its own string of powerful lights shining to illuminate the night.

The airship forged on for hours, or so it seemed to Jude, who did not have access to a timepiece. At one point something very large flew by, a thing bigger than any natural flying creature. The airship had bucked and turned, and the thing had screeched out in the dark before moving on.

“One of your future playmates,” said Stark, looking out the window with a worried expression. “But he’s going to have to wait for a moment.”

“So you’re going to dump me in the dead lands?” asked Jude, glaring at the Magara agent, feeling a chill run up his spine. “That’s still killing me.”

“Not really,” said Stark with a nasty smile. “You’ll be in decent shape when you hit the sand. We’re not going to push you out from too high, after all. Then some Shadow will take credit for ending your life, and you’re welcome to haunt it as long as you want.”

Jude looked back at the man, his mouth falling open. That would circumvent the intention of his spell. They would not kill him, not in the strictest sense. They would take the actions that led to his death, but they would be free from any burdens his spell could lay on them.

“In fact, I think it’s time we started you on your way,” said Stark, standing up and walking to the door to the cockpit. He opened that door and leaned in, saying something to the crew. The bottom seemed to drop out as the airship moved downward.

A crewman slid open the outer door, looking out into the night. He looked back and nodded. The heavyset white tough stood up and pulled Jude to his feet, then pulled him toward the door. Jude tried to dig in his feet, but was pushed around like a child.

Now, thought Jude, saying the trigger words to a spell. The ball of force radiated out from his hands, shredding the ropes that had them confined. Jude stifled a cry as the ropes burned into his flesh as they were ripped away. The tough looked at him, a glare of anger on his face, and grabbed Jude’s right hand before the Detective could bring it up.

This was a time that Jude wished he had a repertoire of spells, like a real battlemage. He had only learned a few in his time in the military, and maybe another couple while he was learning and practicing forensics. He didn’t have much to throw. He only knew a couple, but he knew those well. He reached into himself and drew power from the airship’s system, raised his left hand, and sent the tough into the wall. The man dragged him along, maintaining a tight grip on Jude’s wrist. Jude brought his left hand into the man’s face in an open hand strike, adding a force blast at the end.

The tough’s head smacked into the wall. Blood spurted from his nose and dripped from his ears as his eyes went blank. His grip loosened on Jude’s wrist and the Detective jerked it away, turning from the stricken man and assessing the situation in the cabin.

He didn’t like the snap assessment he had made. Stark was reaching into his jacket, grabbing at something to draw out. The other Mage was mumbling some words and raising his hands in Jude’s direction. The black tough was moving toward him with outstretched hands, while a crewman was picking up a metal bar, obviously to use as a weapon.

Jude snapped a ball of force at the other Mage first, sending the man back into a wall. The Mage grunted and lost his spell, giving Jude a moment of respite from his attentions. Jude snapped his left hand and sent another ball of force into Stark, lifting the man from his feet and sending him into the cabin ceiling. Stark landed back on the floor with a huff of expelled air, and then scrambled to grab a seat frame to keep from falling from the ship. Jude reached inside for one more shot as the tough grabbed at his shirt. The ball hit the tough in the stomach and lifted him into the air, to fly with a scream from the airship and fall away.

Jude glimpsed a flash of black in the light, just before huge claws snatched the tough out of the air and into the darkness. The man’s screams faded quickly.

Jude didn’t have any more power left. He made a motion toward the crewman that made the man flinch away, then looked back over at the Mage. The man was coming to his knees and saying words of power. Jude ran toward Stark, hoping he could get to the agent and use him for cover. Just when he was about there the cabin shuddered with a thunderous roar and Jude’s muscles twitched and spasmed as electricity flooded his body. He cried in pain and stumbled, his muscles losing all their strength. Before anyone could stop him he fell through the door and into the night.

Filed under: eBooks, Fantasy, Golden Age, History, Kindle, Magic, Military, Past, Plotting, science Fiction, steampunk, Titles, Tropes, Writing Tagged: Airships, aviation, Church, council of mages, Daemon, Undead, undead zombies

Daemon: A Steampunk Promotion

On Saturday, December 8th, my Steampunk Fantasy Novel Daemon will be offered for free on Amazon in the Kindle format. This will be my last promotion of the year, though I will have one in January of the new year for my hard science fiction novel Afterlife. So far the promotions have helped, and sales of every book has picked up after the promotion, with the exception of The Hunger. Not sure what happened there. And Exodus: Book 1 has sold very well without any kind of promotion, over a thousand copies in six weeks, but I am pretty sure that the promotion of other scifi books helped it out as well. I think that Daemon, and Afterlife as well, are two of the better books I have written. Both are stand alone, not series, though they could be turned into such if that seems the way to go. I believe if I can get people to read them and comment on them they will also do very well. If not, then they will just sit on the electronic bookshelf and sell a few here and there while I go on to other projects. The great thing about the electronic bookshelves, as versus the ones in the physical stores, is that there is infinite room, so a book can sit there without great sales, waiting to be discovered.

Daemon was written in 2010, my most productive year of writing to date. I also wrote the rough drafts of Exodus and Refuge books 1 and 2, Afterlife, and a fantasy called Aura, which will be coming out within the next month or two. I had hit on the idea of doing a steampunk novel after reading a couple and finding out they really didn’t have to be in the scifi genre. I started out with the idea of a culture that had stagnated technologically because they had discovered the easy way to do things, with magic. So steam has been the technology of choice for the last two centuries. Now the problem with the easy way is it often causes more problems than it solves. And such is the case here. The world has been sapped of its energy, fertile lands turned into deserts, and mankind is now reduced to the last sixty million people on the last million square miles of living land. And the dark is haunted by the Shadows, the negative energy remains of the animals that once walked the earth, stalking the darkness to get what energy they can from the living. The Shadows are afraid of light, magic is the great creator of light, so mankind must continue to use magic to keep the Shadows at bay. The human race is trapped in a corner, and even the living world is an unhealthy reflection of itself. But Daemon Corporation may have found the answer, another source of life energy. Unfortunately, as often happens, there is a very big downside, as in something that is now stalking the employees of the corporation and killing them in horrible ways. It works its way up the corporate food chain until…. Well, let’s just say you will have to read the novel, which will be free from Saturday 12/8 till Wednesday 12/12 on Amazon. And as always, a review is welcome. Remeber to pick up Daemon during the promotion. The trailer link can be seen here on Youtube. And now for an excerpt:

Sondra took a large swig of her whiskey and admired the view, enjoying the relaxing feeling that went along with the bite of the alcohol. She was thinking about how good she had it, when so many others didn’t have the safety of a strong house soul and protective wards, like those who lived on the streets, when the clock on the mantel struck midnight with a loud bong. It counted through the twelve gongs of the traditional witching hour. On the last gong the house soul screamed out in alarm, and Sondra knew that something was very wrong.

She felt the chill run over her as the cityscape blurred behind the blue glowing field of the building defensive system that appeared outside of the large window. It only appeared in the visual range when it activated, and something had just done that. She knew of no shadow creature that would attempt to breach that defense, which could draw on the city energy supplies if needed. The field grew brighter while she watched, indicating that it was in fact drawing on those reserves.

Sondra used her abilities then, shifting to her second sight, the vision she used to trace magical energies at work. She felt confident, on the surface, that the defensive shield could handle anything that was thrown at it, outside an attack by one of the adepts of the Mages’ Council. And none of them would launch an attack at a tech of Daemon Corp. She was both too inconsequential and too well protected for such an attack.

The red energy appeared now to her second sight, an angry shade that interacted with the defensive shield, and seemed to be seeping through it. The shield strengthened again, and the red was stopped for a moment, trapped in the blue energy of the defense. Then it flared and continued to flow through it like water through a membrane. It was like nothing she had ever seen, though it reminded her of something she had seen before. She couldn’t place it, but it nagged at her mind through the almost paralyzing terror. It built up on the other side of the building screen, and then began to attack the house screen that flashed blue on the other side of the window.

Then the window blew in, and she had thought for little else as a hot wind moved in with the shattered glass that cut her on the arms and face. The house soul continued to scream.

“Mommy, mommy,” yelled the small voice of Matt.

Sondra felt a new terror hit her in the solar plexus. She turned her head, feeling blood rolling down her face, to see the children huddled at the entrance to the hall. Their eyes and mouths were wide open, and she felt her fear grow, forgetting about herself and concentrating on her offspring.

“Get back to your rooms,” she yelled in the voice that she hoped the children would obey. She wiped the blood on her face with the back of an arm, turning her head and looking back at the entity that was flowing through the shattered window. She glanced back at her children, saying a prayer to the God she was not sure she believed in, the God of her own childhood, and hoping that the blessing of the homeless man might be helpful. Hoping that the blessing might save her children, if not herself. The children continued to stare, their eyes glancing back and forth between their mother and the broken window.

“House,” she shouted, hearing the roar of something building in the room. “Move them back to their rooms. Form a barrier.”

The little bodies were lifted by a gentle force from the ground and moved away. Sondra knew that the house would concentrate all its energy in a barrier to protect the children. It would maybe slow down anything that came after them. Maybe long enough for help to answer the screaming alarm.

She turned back in time to see the red energy coalesce into a demonic face, glaring at her with a hateful anger, the glowing eyes expressing no mercy. Sondra tried to call up a spell that might allow her to fight the thing. All she could think of was the small combat spell she had learned years ago to fight a rapist, if one ever attacked her. Not something she thought would work on this thing. Still she opened her mouth to shout out the words, when the hot wind slammed her into the back of the couch and over. Her head hit the floor, and she looked up in pain and confusion as the force grabbed her and jerked her into the air.

The pain in her head was forgotten when searing agony gripped her body. Forces were pulling on different vectors, and she felt parts of her body rip and tear. She felt another agony that had nothing to do with her body, a hollow pain that started in her chest and moved outward into her limbs, and realized that her soul was being ripped from her, devoured by the demon that held her in its grip. Her scream of terror cut off as her body flew across the room in a dozen pieces and smacked from the walls with great splatters of blood. Her soul continued its silent scream while it was sucked into the creature and became part of its energy, obliterating her presence from the Universe.

Filed under: eBooks, Fantasy, History, Kindle, Magic, Past, Plotting, steampunk, Titles, Tropes, Undead, Vampires, Websites, Writing Tagged: Afterlife, Daemon, Evil Corporations, Exodus, The Hunger

Why The Lord of the Rings was the Ultimate Fantasy Movie.

A couple of months ago I ran through my extended editions of all three of the Lord of the Rings films by Peter Jackson. And once again I was impressed with how good they were. Now I have some friends who, even though they liked the movies, still didn’t think they were enough. One old friend would have liked to see sixty one hour episodes in a TV series, even though TV wouldn’t have spent the bucks to get the big screen masterpiece that resulted from it being filmed as a major motion picture. Another complained that there was no Tom Bombadil. Now Tom might have added something to the movie, but really wasn’t central to the storyline, which had to be cut in some places, so that the four hour extended versions could actually be filmed. One complaint I heard several times was the use of Arwin in the movies. She really wasn’t shown much in the books, only really a passing mention in a couple of places. But when the novel was written a fantasy story could be told without too much character development, and today people want romance in the stories they read or see, just a bit. So Hollywood added that romance by a little more development of Arwin, in the only way it can be done in a film, by showing it.

Now all of the Lord of the Rings movies were good. You could see the development of the effects through the films, which got better as the series progressed. Makes sense, as new techniques and technologies were developed through those years. But the sum of the parts was better than the individual segments. The series was amazing in many respects. The production quality was amazing. The cast of characters was maintained through the three movies, something very difficult to do. I have seen many sequels in the past where a new actor played a character, and we were supposed to completely ignore that they were not the same person that played the part in the preceding film. Not so with Lord of the Rings. They kept the entire cast intact for the entire movie series. Frodo, Gandalf, Sam, Aragorn, Elrond, Galadriel, Saroman, Merry and Pippen. The gang stayed for all the movies. Now I know there are contracts, and I’m sure everyone was signed to one, but that doesn’t always prevent people from leaving. The second amazing thing was how the series fitted together like one seamless story, with the tension growing from episode to episode. Remember the big battle scene in Fellowship. Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli and Legalos versus the Uraki. Oh, and a couple of Hobbits as well. The Two Towers featured an Army of ten thousand Uraki versus the defenders of Helms Deep, augmented by several thousand cavalry. Sure, there were some liberties taken with Helms Deep, like the inclusion of elves, but all in all it was a great battle scene. And then the battles of Return of the King, the great cavalry charge against the massive army of Orcs. The fight with the Olifants. Everything building to the final scene when the great eye crashes to the ground. It was definitely Jackson’s masterpiece, and an effort to be proud of. I bought the complete extended edition when it came out, retiring my standard editions, which were still good, but just not enough compared to those extra three hours of magical scenes.

Yes, Lord of the Rings was the ultimate fantasy experience. It had magic, a Balrog, great armies, single battles, dwarven mines and Elfin forests. It had flashbacks to the past that filled in the story for those who didn’t know it. It added a love story to the mix. The only thing it didn’t have was a dragon, and we have that coming in the Hobbit, Jackson’s future release. I think the money I spent on the extended additions is a good investment. I will probably watch it at least once a year for the rest of my life, and enjoy it every time.

Filed under: Armor, Barbarians, Dragons, Fantasy, History, Magic, Movie Critics, Movies, Past, Plotting, Sword and Sorcery, Tropes, Writing Tagged: Elrond, Elves, entertainment, fantasy story, Frodo, Galadriel, Gandalf, Gimli, Legalos, Lord of the Rings, Orcs, oscars, Peter Jackson, Tom Bombadil, Uraki

Demonology 101

Demons are the ultimate evil creature, just below Gods in most mythologies and literary traditions, considered Gods in others. In most tales they are from another plane of reality, Hell, Hades, Chaos, you name it. They are normally very hard to kill, and in many cases killing a Demon only rids the world of its physical body. The spirit goes back to its home, to manifest again in physical form, and, like cocking a gun, preparing itself for a return. Demons shouldn’t be confused with Daemons, which in Greek mythology were spirits of nature, neither good nor bad, but holy hell on whoever pissed them off.

The first Demons I was truly familiar with were those of Robert E Howard in his Conan and Kull tales. Demons were summoned by wizards, who were invariably evil, and were almost always priests. They ranged from pig face creatures dispatched with fair ease by strong thewed barbarians with broadswords, to dark Gods like Set. They were always described as coming from the Pit, which brought up images of a dark and slimy place where horrendous creatures crawled over each other, waiting for the chance to get out and tear out a throat or two. Or they were described as coming from the Outer Dark, from the cold of interstellar space. Whatever place they came from, it wasn’t from around these here parts. Most were summoned to an altar, or a prepared area, though Thoth Amon had a ring that allowed him to summon the next Demon in the queue to wherever he happened to be.

Demons from the Bible were fallen angels, and their home was hell. They were not capable of being destroyed, the best that could be hoped for was a exorcism and the casting out of whoever they happened to inhabit at the moment. Fallen angel movies seem to be popular at this time, and Satan is the ultimate fallen angel. In Dungeons and Dragons Demons come from a variety of places, and each place is a realm of its own. Humans can sometimes visit those realms, for treasure, magical devices or some such. Getting trapped there is a really bad idea, because you are suddenly the target of every demon in the place, all wanting to get some measure of torment from the unlucky mortal who was left behind.

Whatever their form demons are bad business. They promise the world and then try to find a way to screw the deal. Stories of people trying to deal with Satan proliferate modern fantasy and horror, and have one primary moral. Don’t do it. You will not get a good deal from Satan, or any other demon of fact or fiction for that matter. This is doubly true with those Demons of fantasy. Cheating is the name of the game, and the Demon is always waiting for the summoner to make a mistake or to lower their guard.

I use Demons in my Refuge series. Both the common summoned creature from the nether worlds that can be set onto the goodly enemy, or just the person who happens to piss the summoner off. And the angel or fallen angel that is close to the God it is aligned with. In Doppelganger I introduced another purpose for Demons. They are summoned and lodged in the bodies of normal humanoids to make their way through security. At the proper moment they burst free of their human bonds, to the great detriment of their host, and march forth to cause confusion and destruction. These are terrorist demons, and they can cause a lot of damage before they are finally brought down. But just like the suicidal tools of modern terrorist organizations they are expendable. After all, where there is one Demon there are sure to be others.

An excerpt from Doppelganger showing the above Demon:

Men fought and died in the subway station underneath the great building. Guardsmen and police fought in close quarters with swords and maces. Steam pistols phutted their songs of death, then were dropped as no time was given for the laborious process of reloading. The Imperial forces were beginning to gain to upper hand, given their superior armor, weapons, training and numbers, as well as their desperation to get through this screening force and get to the side of the Empress who had been ripped from them.

At first all ignored the lone elf that stumbled from a side tunnel and into the fray. He visibly trembled with some internal struggle. His eyes were fixed ahead. Those who were his friends knew who he was and what he was about. Those who were his enemies thought him an innocent bystander. Until he blew apart in a spray of blood and flesh, and the demon he had been carrying burst forth into the world.

“Look out,” yelled a soldier who made to shy away from the great horned form while trying to use his sword for a block of the huge taloned hand that flew toward him. Unsuccessful in both respects, the soldier died on his feet, head ripped from his body.

Newly arrived soldiers and Imperial Secret Service Agents came down the stairs in time to see the first killing. Pellets from steam rifles plowed into the huge red body of the demon, rocking it with their multiple impacts. A bolt of fire struck it in the chest, absorbed into its body like water into a sponge. Secret Service warpriests threw spells as well, to no avail.

The demon wreaked a terrible slaughter on soldiers and cops, leaving a trail of bodies as it took their life force and added to its power. Brave men broke and ran, to be caught from behind and torn asunder. Those very courageous strode in to strike the creature with their weapons, causing visible damage that didn’t seem to bother the monster in the least.

“Make way for the SWAAM Team” yelled an authoritative voice as a handful of armored figures came down the stairs, followed by priests and mages in fancy robes. Special Weapons, Armor and Magic, the elite of the Imperial City Police, this kind of creature fell into their purview.

A warrior in glowing armor ran forward, his two-handed sword swinging toward the creature. The demon raised an arm to block the blow, then roared in agony as the blade sliced through its flesh and bone, the scaly forearm falling to the floor. Bolts of power struck the head and chest of the monster, vaporizing large swathes of flesh and muscle. And then the demon was down, breath rattling hollowly through its dying lungs. It shuddered and lay still, before quickly dissolving into the floor of the subway chamber, leaving behind only its awful residue to show that it had ever existed, and the bodies of its victims.

Filed under: Armor, Barbarians, eBooks, Fantasy, Future Prediciton, Future Warfare, History, Kindle, Magic, Military, Past, Plotting, Shape Shifting, Sword and Sorcery, Tropes, Websites, Writing Tagged: Conan, Daemons, Demons, Doppelganger, Kull, literary traditions, Refuge, Robert E Howard, Satan, spirits of nature

Zombies: Gotta Love Them while gagging on their stench.

Zombies seem to be the big thing in Hollywood right now. Even bigger than the much more powerful undead vampires, and so much more popular than mummies that it isn’t even funny. Mostly portrayed as shuffling hordes in various stages of rot, they overwhelm by weight of numbers. Most can be taken out by a head shot that destroys the brain, though in the Return of the Living Dead series even this will not stop them. Zombies used to be portrayed as the result of some supernatural power, raised from the dead by a priest or witch doctor and set on their enemies. Now they are mostly portrayed as the result of a virus or some scientific experiment gone bad. I will get into the fallacies of this chain of reasoning in a moment, and tell why I prefer the supernatural explanation.

I personally divide zombies into two categories: the Walking Zombie and the Running Zombie. Walking zombies are more akin to the traditional zombie we all know and love. They walked slowly, or if physically messed up, shuffle or even crawl about. They are easy to avoid as long as you don’t let yourself be bottled up in an area that is difficult to escape. As easy as this sounds, the movie heroes always seem to let this happen. Walking zombies can be easily avoided by walking away from them. Remember the lessons you learned in childhood around the swimming pool. Walk, don’t run, or you might fall down. And if you fall down the walking zombie that was two hundred yards behind you will suddenly tower over you, like they teleported. If you stay out in the open and walk you probably don’t have too much trouble staying away from these disgusting creatures. The only real problem is you have to sleep sometime, while the undead don’t have to. Running zombies, like those in 28 Days Later, are a different proposition entirely. As the name implies, they run, sometimes better and faster than they could while alive. Unless you are also a good runner then trying to get away is not an option. And running also carried with it the risk of falling, and the running zombie teleporting to your location before you can stumble back to your feet. No, the only option with the running zombie is to fortify in some strong position or to fight them. Unfortunately zombies seem to find their way into the strongest of places, somewhat like rats, so eventually they will get in, and you will have to fight them. Good luck.

So, supernatural or scientific explanations? I prefer the supernatural myself, just as for vampires. It is a better explanation as far as I’m concerned, an animating power not of this world that can make dead people, even in skeletal state, move and kill. Of course as it’s supernatural then there is no real need to feed on the living, unless the animating force is just assholish, which it probably is since its making dead people rise. The virus explanation just doesn’t seem to ring true. First off, how can a virus make rotting muscles and joints work, much less work well. The body is deteriorating, and that includes the nervous system. There should be no signals being sent from a rotting brain to rotting muscles through a rotting nervous system. Second is how they are powered. Yeah, I know, they eat people. But they are dead, and that means no metabolism. Their stomachs don’t digest food into sugars, sugars are not used to generate ATP, and there is no breaking of ATP to power muscles. They’re like a dead car that has no motive power. That’s why to me the supernatural approach is the better. They’re still creatures of the imagination, but in a more sensible manner. I use zombies in some of my fantasy novels, which of course always involves some kind of supernatural animating power. I will not use them in science fiction, as there is no scientific or physical explanation for them. I still enjoy watching the old movies and new shows like the Walking Dead, because I can suspend disbelief and enjoy the action. Can’t do that while writing, so I don’t even try.

Filed under: eBooks, Fantasy, History, Kindle, Movies, Past, Plotting, science Fiction, self publishing, Sword and Sorcery, Tropes, Undead, Vampires, Writing Tagged: 28 Days Later, supernatural, The Walking Dead, zombies