Dan Melson's Blog, page 22
September 8, 2020
Character Sketch from a False Start I Made
The ideas for this character and another associated one have been in the back of my mind for a while. I thought I was going to do a viewpoint shift in my Work-in-Progress, but I've decided to do something different. Nonetheless, I'm probably going to do something with this character eventually
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"We have an Empire-wide alert. The fractal demons have begun massive assaults on Imperial systems throughout the Empire. The Empire is now in a state of war. There are no protected areas in this war, and Earth is one of the most exposed planets. The demons have a major marshalling point only seventeen years distant. Be prepared, be alert. We will do our best, but our resources are limited and demonic nobles can appear anywhere and bring troops with them. Your best defense is yourself."
-Announcement made by Brigade Ensign HoshTeremas, commander of Sol system defenses
UHURA JACKSON:
It caused an almost planetary panic.
Despite the Empire's brutally frank acknowledgements that war was coming, and that it was likely the Earth would be the target of an invasion force the limited numbers of troops in the system would be unable to contain for a century prior to the war, the actual start of hostilities caught almost everyone unprepared.
The hollowed-out brigade assigned to Earth was more than we should have had, by a strict accounting. Even a group - one fourth the troops - would have been generous. But that didn't mean people were ready for what happened.
I was better prepared than most. I'd spent thirty years in the Imperial military. When separated, I'd used part of my savings to purchase my combat suit from the Empire. I'd been strict about keeping it up to maintenance standards in the time since, too, and kept a full load of expendables on hand. When I'd settled near San Onofre, in the old Camp Pendleton Enterprise Zone, I'd even found a group of like-minded veterans and we'd practiced together in the simulators a few times per Imperial year. It was what we had time for.
I had good reason to keep myself in shape, too. I'd become a prostitute.
Pick your damned jaw up off the floor. For that matter, courtesan was probably more accurate. I was born on Earth, and I liked Earth, but I'd learned some of our attitudes were... provincial. By the time I'd been discharged, I had no qualms whatsoever about ignoring them. I wasn't going to be so careless I got pregnant, and a session with a healer could kill any disease known to the Empire - and Momma was a Guardian even if I wasn't, as well as my mentor in 'the business'. If anything had come up, she'd have been happy to heal me - not that it ever did. When first I returned to Earth, I'd had to keep physical side of my operations to the Pendleton Zone and the Channel Islands Military Reservation or south of the border in what used to be Mexico, but when the old United States finally voted to disband, I no longer had even those minimal concerns.
I was valued, too. My base rate was forty luc per Imperial hour, and it was a rare customer I probably wasn't going to see again that didn't volunteer more. I even enjoyed the 'work.' Since Earth was still dirt poor by the standards of the rest of the Empire, my clientele consisted mostly of off-worlders, I lived well on a couple hours 'work' per week - I had a ten prime ififths squared condo on the third-highest level of one of the San Onofre highrises, a four-seat Starbird of my own even though I was only an in-system pilot, and other investments totaling over forty fifths - perhaps nothing special in most of the Empire, but here on Earth I was the equivalent of a billionaire. Most of my customers were here because they were assigned or passing through for some reason either business or charitable. The native churches didn't care for us much, but Imperial Viceroys didn't answer to voters or elections, so those who would have made trouble had seen their power evaporate as thoroughly as all the other old splinter special interest groups who'd thrived off the threat of making fifty-one percent into forty-nine. Served them right. Momma named me Uhura, after a character on an old entertainment before contact. She told me it meant 'freedom,' and I was damned if I was going to fall short of that name. Great-Grandmama might have been an enslaved 'comfort woman' but I chose to do what I did. It suited me for now. Maybe someday it wouldn't - but I had plenty of other skills, and the Planetary Surface forces would be right glad of an experienced Squad Private anytime I wanted - especially now.
So despite over three prime of warnings from the Empire that war was probably going to hit Earth, most of the planet was still dreaming that nothing would ever happen. They said a good definition of humanity was 'an otherwise sentient species known for its unwillingness to plan ahead,' and the reaction proved them right. Near as I can tell, roughly three fifths - two billion plus by the old numbers - tried demanding free passage offworld on Earth's one commercial run that might have held a cube or even two - if they'd jammed 'em in with a shoehorn. Never mind that the destination systems would have been just as liable to get hit. Both the transport company and all the Viceroys laughed at them, of course.
Most of the rest of Earth's fourteen fifths - eleven billion - tried the old adage, 'when in danger or in doubt, run in circles scream and shout.' It was not a pleasant experience for those few of us more inclined to solving our own problems. But I suppose that's why they weren't all rich, and why Earth still absorbed way more charity than planets with four times the people. Close on two Earth centuries since Imperial contact, and the planet was still working through all the crap I remembered from my youth. Damn but we were crazy back then! Almost made the rotten bastards that had enslaved Great-Grandmama in Korea look sane! Least they were willing to work at what they wanted, instead of having it handed to them! Maybe it would've been better if the Empire had just let the old folks die off, instead of healing them all and giving them another life. But since that saved Momma and got her training as a Guardian, I'm just as glad they didn't
------
"We have an Empire-wide alert. The fractal demons have begun massive assaults on Imperial systems throughout the Empire. The Empire is now in a state of war. There are no protected areas in this war, and Earth is one of the most exposed planets. The demons have a major marshalling point only seventeen years distant. Be prepared, be alert. We will do our best, but our resources are limited and demonic nobles can appear anywhere and bring troops with them. Your best defense is yourself."
-Announcement made by Brigade Ensign HoshTeremas, commander of Sol system defenses
UHURA JACKSON:
It caused an almost planetary panic.
Despite the Empire's brutally frank acknowledgements that war was coming, and that it was likely the Earth would be the target of an invasion force the limited numbers of troops in the system would be unable to contain for a century prior to the war, the actual start of hostilities caught almost everyone unprepared.
The hollowed-out brigade assigned to Earth was more than we should have had, by a strict accounting. Even a group - one fourth the troops - would have been generous. But that didn't mean people were ready for what happened.
I was better prepared than most. I'd spent thirty years in the Imperial military. When separated, I'd used part of my savings to purchase my combat suit from the Empire. I'd been strict about keeping it up to maintenance standards in the time since, too, and kept a full load of expendables on hand. When I'd settled near San Onofre, in the old Camp Pendleton Enterprise Zone, I'd even found a group of like-minded veterans and we'd practiced together in the simulators a few times per Imperial year. It was what we had time for.
I had good reason to keep myself in shape, too. I'd become a prostitute.
Pick your damned jaw up off the floor. For that matter, courtesan was probably more accurate. I was born on Earth, and I liked Earth, but I'd learned some of our attitudes were... provincial. By the time I'd been discharged, I had no qualms whatsoever about ignoring them. I wasn't going to be so careless I got pregnant, and a session with a healer could kill any disease known to the Empire - and Momma was a Guardian even if I wasn't, as well as my mentor in 'the business'. If anything had come up, she'd have been happy to heal me - not that it ever did. When first I returned to Earth, I'd had to keep physical side of my operations to the Pendleton Zone and the Channel Islands Military Reservation or south of the border in what used to be Mexico, but when the old United States finally voted to disband, I no longer had even those minimal concerns.
I was valued, too. My base rate was forty luc per Imperial hour, and it was a rare customer I probably wasn't going to see again that didn't volunteer more. I even enjoyed the 'work.' Since Earth was still dirt poor by the standards of the rest of the Empire, my clientele consisted mostly of off-worlders, I lived well on a couple hours 'work' per week - I had a ten prime ififths squared condo on the third-highest level of one of the San Onofre highrises, a four-seat Starbird of my own even though I was only an in-system pilot, and other investments totaling over forty fifths - perhaps nothing special in most of the Empire, but here on Earth I was the equivalent of a billionaire. Most of my customers were here because they were assigned or passing through for some reason either business or charitable. The native churches didn't care for us much, but Imperial Viceroys didn't answer to voters or elections, so those who would have made trouble had seen their power evaporate as thoroughly as all the other old splinter special interest groups who'd thrived off the threat of making fifty-one percent into forty-nine. Served them right. Momma named me Uhura, after a character on an old entertainment before contact. She told me it meant 'freedom,' and I was damned if I was going to fall short of that name. Great-Grandmama might have been an enslaved 'comfort woman' but I chose to do what I did. It suited me for now. Maybe someday it wouldn't - but I had plenty of other skills, and the Planetary Surface forces would be right glad of an experienced Squad Private anytime I wanted - especially now.
So despite over three prime of warnings from the Empire that war was probably going to hit Earth, most of the planet was still dreaming that nothing would ever happen. They said a good definition of humanity was 'an otherwise sentient species known for its unwillingness to plan ahead,' and the reaction proved them right. Near as I can tell, roughly three fifths - two billion plus by the old numbers - tried demanding free passage offworld on Earth's one commercial run that might have held a cube or even two - if they'd jammed 'em in with a shoehorn. Never mind that the destination systems would have been just as liable to get hit. Both the transport company and all the Viceroys laughed at them, of course.
Most of the rest of Earth's fourteen fifths - eleven billion - tried the old adage, 'when in danger or in doubt, run in circles scream and shout.' It was not a pleasant experience for those few of us more inclined to solving our own problems. But I suppose that's why they weren't all rich, and why Earth still absorbed way more charity than planets with four times the people. Close on two Earth centuries since Imperial contact, and the planet was still working through all the crap I remembered from my youth. Damn but we were crazy back then! Almost made the rotten bastards that had enslaved Great-Grandmama in Korea look sane! Least they were willing to work at what they wanted, instead of having it handed to them! Maybe it would've been better if the Empire had just let the old folks die off, instead of healing them all and giving them another life. But since that saved Momma and got her training as a Guardian, I'm just as glad they didn't
August 31, 2020
Excerpt from The End of Childhood First Draft
"Nothing in the Game of Houses is certain and nothing is forever. The only guarantee is we all die someday."
I still remember the first time I heard that - Scimtar himself said it to me while training me as a Guardian. Eventually we all make the fatal mistake. That said, the fact it was Scimtar saying it changed the subtext - he'd been playing the game for over thirty square. Just because you were going to die someday didn't mean it had to be today or any time soon. Maybe the metaphorical dice would come up snake eyes for you today. Maybe you had enemies who'd do their best to make it happen. But you got to influence those dice, too. The leaders of the Empire were all masters at loading the dice in their favor, or better yet, controlling the outcome so the dice were never rolled.
But you're not the only one the dice can turn fickle on...
-Graciela Juarez di Scimtar
It never begins dramatically.
It started on an ordinary day, when I'd been doing the perfectly ordinary thing of gathering evidence for a hearing. The case I was investigating had to do with the tort of infringement. In this case the plaintiff was alleging the defendant was generating excessive noise and interfering with the plaintiff's enjoyment of their property. Evidently, the defendant had refused negotiation on the subject and so the case was going before the relevant Primus the next day.
Both were out on the fringes of Sumabad, out in the hills, out where the towering arcologies holding tens of millions each petered out, and the residents generally had reasons to need or want ground space. One was an academy for self-defense, with classrooms for hand to hand disciplines and ranges for things like disruptors, lasers, flechette guns, and even the occasional firearm. The other was the Grubaro Club, a nightclub catering largely to the Tumar culture which had a large presence in Sumabad and environs. Tumars liked explosions while they were eating and dancing. Tumars thought loud noises were exciting and envigorating. Unfortunately for their neighbors, these explosions and other noises often reached ear-splitting levels, and it was not only disrupting to the peaceful conduct of the instruction at Hills Academy for Preparation and Discipline next door, many of the patrons and instructors were combat veterans. It wasn't my place to judge, but I was pretty sure the Primus was going to mostly rule against the Grubaro Club - they had a responsibility to see that any noise they generated did not disturb their neighbors, and my spak recording was getting readings consistently louder than an original Learjet on high-power takeoff.
Scimtar himself contacted me. Grace, I have a job if you're interested, or rather a series of jobs. Mixed family and imperial. It involves demonic traces, mostly spraxos and nephraim.
I was no longer the barely trained woman who'd been nervous about facing a terostes by herself, but neither was I a Sixth or Seventh Order Guardian. I was mid-range Fourth Order - albeit trained by House Scimtar. Furthermore, if I were observed taking on spraxos, that could be the end of me pretending to still be Second Order. What's it entail?
We're seeing a surge in the number of demonic traces, not only here in Indra System but everywhere in the Empire. The conclusion is obvious.
The fractal demons were trolling for treason. It's what they did. The vast majority of their troops would be easy pickings for Imperials when the inevitable confrontation came. Unless they could get us to turn on each other, the eventual war would be notable mostly for a lopsided casualty count. They'd seduced the old stons without anyone realizing it until the old Empire was already gone, resulting in a civil war that ended up destroying the Empire - and afterwards, almost the entire human species. This time the leaders of the Empire were alert for their tactics.
The assignment?
Match demonic traces to human contacts by Event Line congruency. Investigate the human contacts by behavior. If you happen to destroy demons, we'll pay a bounty - nephraim are worth three fourths, spraxos thirty. Ancilliaries too, although manesi and lemuure aren't worth much. What we're looking for is evidence to convict or exonerate treason, and we'll double your normal rate for results.
The money was nice even if Asto and I could live very comfortably off investments if we wanted, but demonic nobles were dangerous - and they had a habit of bringing in help when threatened. But I didn't think Scimtar would be offering me the job if he didn't think I was able to handle myself doing it - I'd given the family five children thus far, all of them above average tracking metrics for Seventh Order Guardians their age thanks to yours truly carrying them naturally instead of using artificial gestation. I'd done it for my babies, not for House Scimtar, but I knew Scimtar valued my efforts.
Grandfather is offering you a way into the Guardian's Ears if you're willing, my husband Asto put in his two cents.
I thought the Guardian's Ears didn't accept candidates born outside the Empire?
Maybe not, but it's worth pursuing if you want to win appointment as a Primus yourself someday.
That was a carrot that had my eye. Most Secundus-in-fact had more applicants for Primus-in-fact than they knew what to do with. Even a 'might be' defect like being born on Earth before the Empire arrived could be enough to make them pass you by. Also, I was a di Scimtar, which had advantages but also carried baggage. I wasn't really qualified yet - but I needed something to counter-balance the possible defect I couldn't cure, and it was never too soon to pick up that extra little something that would put me over the top when I was. I already had work in the Merlon's Eyes to my credit. Add something equivalent to the Guardian's Ears and that might be enough.
Why me? I asked Scimtar.
You've had ten years' experience as an investigator now, and we both know you're Fourth Order. Most of our investigators are Second Order, and weaker than average Second Order at that. They might be able to handle a nephraim, but a spraxos would squash them, and if they stumbled across a jopas it would be hopeless.
If there's a basileus?
You've survived two confrontations with them. There isn't another active investigator who can say that anywhere in the Empire.
I'd rather not risk it a third time.
So be careful and don't confront anything you're not certain of. Scimtar never had any sympathy for getting caught by your own mistakes. If there's the possibility of jopas, basileus, or something even stronger, bring it to my attention and I will use an appropriate agent.
When do you need a decision? I asked Scimtar. Who are you trying to fool, love? Asto asked me. I want to talk to the kids about it, I told him.
Tomorrow, I could tell Scimtar wasn't fooled either, fifteen hours from right now. He knew this was an opportunity as well as a risk. You can bet he thought he was doing both of us a favor. He broke contact without further complication.
What do you think? I asked Asto.
I think this is a good opportunity for you. The kids are taking care of themselves, and we've got my splinters to provide any parental supervision they actually need.
You know being a parent isn't just about supervision.
They can talk to you as easily as I can, anytime. It's not like they have music recitals or hadul games you have to attend.
I don't want to miss Mom stuff. When I'd had each child, I'd committed myself to thirty years of being Mom before anything else. As much as I needed to get away a few hours a week, I enjoyed it. Unlike the situation on Earth before contact, I could expect plenty of lifespan after - Guardians lived until something killed them. According to personal duration, I was 98 Imperial years old - 69 Earth. I kept myself healthier and looking younger than I had the night ScOsh stepped through the portal back on Earth. Even among the natural state humans, that was the way things were in the Empire. I hadn't seen anyone who looked middle-aged or old since my last trip back to Earth. At somewhere over 80,000 Earth years of age, Scimtar himself looked no older physically than the college students of my youth.
You won't miss it. Things will just be a little different for a while.
I had to admit he was right. Thanks to our situation, even ten year old Alden was beyond what I could teach him about most subjects. At sixteen Imperial, Esteban was starting to show glimpses of the amazing man he would become - even if his voice had just started to crack. Ilora, Ilras, and Imtara, between them in age, were all starting to show specific interests and dispositions. I appreciated Ferugio - Scimtar's teaching master - more now than I had when under his tutelage. The kids' physical training was also more advanced than Asto had been at their age, as Scimtar himself had dedicated a splinter full time to teaching the family self-defense and dueling. Even Amras and Iaren - the oldest of his surviving children, each well over a square in age and formidable opponents in their own right - took lessons from their father occasionally. But the upshot was that my kids - and my husband and even I - were better prepared to defend ourselves than otherwise. His splinter might literally be a shadow of Scimtar himself, but it knew everything he'd learned in his long and adventurous life.
Will you be home tonight?
I did tell you that our schedule was for thirty hours of fleet exercises?
Yes, but I could hope for a change. His splinter would still be there, but his splinter wasn't Asto.
I love that you're always ready to hope the universe will be kind.
I love that you humor me. I'll talk with the kids tonight.
I still remember the first time I heard that - Scimtar himself said it to me while training me as a Guardian. Eventually we all make the fatal mistake. That said, the fact it was Scimtar saying it changed the subtext - he'd been playing the game for over thirty square. Just because you were going to die someday didn't mean it had to be today or any time soon. Maybe the metaphorical dice would come up snake eyes for you today. Maybe you had enemies who'd do their best to make it happen. But you got to influence those dice, too. The leaders of the Empire were all masters at loading the dice in their favor, or better yet, controlling the outcome so the dice were never rolled.
But you're not the only one the dice can turn fickle on...
-Graciela Juarez di Scimtar
It never begins dramatically.
It started on an ordinary day, when I'd been doing the perfectly ordinary thing of gathering evidence for a hearing. The case I was investigating had to do with the tort of infringement. In this case the plaintiff was alleging the defendant was generating excessive noise and interfering with the plaintiff's enjoyment of their property. Evidently, the defendant had refused negotiation on the subject and so the case was going before the relevant Primus the next day.
Both were out on the fringes of Sumabad, out in the hills, out where the towering arcologies holding tens of millions each petered out, and the residents generally had reasons to need or want ground space. One was an academy for self-defense, with classrooms for hand to hand disciplines and ranges for things like disruptors, lasers, flechette guns, and even the occasional firearm. The other was the Grubaro Club, a nightclub catering largely to the Tumar culture which had a large presence in Sumabad and environs. Tumars liked explosions while they were eating and dancing. Tumars thought loud noises were exciting and envigorating. Unfortunately for their neighbors, these explosions and other noises often reached ear-splitting levels, and it was not only disrupting to the peaceful conduct of the instruction at Hills Academy for Preparation and Discipline next door, many of the patrons and instructors were combat veterans. It wasn't my place to judge, but I was pretty sure the Primus was going to mostly rule against the Grubaro Club - they had a responsibility to see that any noise they generated did not disturb their neighbors, and my spak recording was getting readings consistently louder than an original Learjet on high-power takeoff.
Scimtar himself contacted me. Grace, I have a job if you're interested, or rather a series of jobs. Mixed family and imperial. It involves demonic traces, mostly spraxos and nephraim.
I was no longer the barely trained woman who'd been nervous about facing a terostes by herself, but neither was I a Sixth or Seventh Order Guardian. I was mid-range Fourth Order - albeit trained by House Scimtar. Furthermore, if I were observed taking on spraxos, that could be the end of me pretending to still be Second Order. What's it entail?
We're seeing a surge in the number of demonic traces, not only here in Indra System but everywhere in the Empire. The conclusion is obvious.
The fractal demons were trolling for treason. It's what they did. The vast majority of their troops would be easy pickings for Imperials when the inevitable confrontation came. Unless they could get us to turn on each other, the eventual war would be notable mostly for a lopsided casualty count. They'd seduced the old stons without anyone realizing it until the old Empire was already gone, resulting in a civil war that ended up destroying the Empire - and afterwards, almost the entire human species. This time the leaders of the Empire were alert for their tactics.
The assignment?
Match demonic traces to human contacts by Event Line congruency. Investigate the human contacts by behavior. If you happen to destroy demons, we'll pay a bounty - nephraim are worth three fourths, spraxos thirty. Ancilliaries too, although manesi and lemuure aren't worth much. What we're looking for is evidence to convict or exonerate treason, and we'll double your normal rate for results.
The money was nice even if Asto and I could live very comfortably off investments if we wanted, but demonic nobles were dangerous - and they had a habit of bringing in help when threatened. But I didn't think Scimtar would be offering me the job if he didn't think I was able to handle myself doing it - I'd given the family five children thus far, all of them above average tracking metrics for Seventh Order Guardians their age thanks to yours truly carrying them naturally instead of using artificial gestation. I'd done it for my babies, not for House Scimtar, but I knew Scimtar valued my efforts.
Grandfather is offering you a way into the Guardian's Ears if you're willing, my husband Asto put in his two cents.
I thought the Guardian's Ears didn't accept candidates born outside the Empire?
Maybe not, but it's worth pursuing if you want to win appointment as a Primus yourself someday.
That was a carrot that had my eye. Most Secundus-in-fact had more applicants for Primus-in-fact than they knew what to do with. Even a 'might be' defect like being born on Earth before the Empire arrived could be enough to make them pass you by. Also, I was a di Scimtar, which had advantages but also carried baggage. I wasn't really qualified yet - but I needed something to counter-balance the possible defect I couldn't cure, and it was never too soon to pick up that extra little something that would put me over the top when I was. I already had work in the Merlon's Eyes to my credit. Add something equivalent to the Guardian's Ears and that might be enough.
Why me? I asked Scimtar.
You've had ten years' experience as an investigator now, and we both know you're Fourth Order. Most of our investigators are Second Order, and weaker than average Second Order at that. They might be able to handle a nephraim, but a spraxos would squash them, and if they stumbled across a jopas it would be hopeless.
If there's a basileus?
You've survived two confrontations with them. There isn't another active investigator who can say that anywhere in the Empire.
I'd rather not risk it a third time.
So be careful and don't confront anything you're not certain of. Scimtar never had any sympathy for getting caught by your own mistakes. If there's the possibility of jopas, basileus, or something even stronger, bring it to my attention and I will use an appropriate agent.
When do you need a decision? I asked Scimtar. Who are you trying to fool, love? Asto asked me. I want to talk to the kids about it, I told him.
Tomorrow, I could tell Scimtar wasn't fooled either, fifteen hours from right now. He knew this was an opportunity as well as a risk. You can bet he thought he was doing both of us a favor. He broke contact without further complication.
What do you think? I asked Asto.
I think this is a good opportunity for you. The kids are taking care of themselves, and we've got my splinters to provide any parental supervision they actually need.
You know being a parent isn't just about supervision.
They can talk to you as easily as I can, anytime. It's not like they have music recitals or hadul games you have to attend.
I don't want to miss Mom stuff. When I'd had each child, I'd committed myself to thirty years of being Mom before anything else. As much as I needed to get away a few hours a week, I enjoyed it. Unlike the situation on Earth before contact, I could expect plenty of lifespan after - Guardians lived until something killed them. According to personal duration, I was 98 Imperial years old - 69 Earth. I kept myself healthier and looking younger than I had the night ScOsh stepped through the portal back on Earth. Even among the natural state humans, that was the way things were in the Empire. I hadn't seen anyone who looked middle-aged or old since my last trip back to Earth. At somewhere over 80,000 Earth years of age, Scimtar himself looked no older physically than the college students of my youth.
You won't miss it. Things will just be a little different for a while.
I had to admit he was right. Thanks to our situation, even ten year old Alden was beyond what I could teach him about most subjects. At sixteen Imperial, Esteban was starting to show glimpses of the amazing man he would become - even if his voice had just started to crack. Ilora, Ilras, and Imtara, between them in age, were all starting to show specific interests and dispositions. I appreciated Ferugio - Scimtar's teaching master - more now than I had when under his tutelage. The kids' physical training was also more advanced than Asto had been at their age, as Scimtar himself had dedicated a splinter full time to teaching the family self-defense and dueling. Even Amras and Iaren - the oldest of his surviving children, each well over a square in age and formidable opponents in their own right - took lessons from their father occasionally. But the upshot was that my kids - and my husband and even I - were better prepared to defend ourselves than otherwise. His splinter might literally be a shadow of Scimtar himself, but it knew everything he'd learned in his long and adventurous life.
Will you be home tonight?
I did tell you that our schedule was for thirty hours of fleet exercises?
Yes, but I could hope for a change. His splinter would still be there, but his splinter wasn't Asto.
I love that you're always ready to hope the universe will be kind.
I love that you humor me. I'll talk with the kids tonight.
August 27, 2020
Excerpt from The Gates to Faerie
"Hello Mark?"
It had been seven years since she abruptly served me with divorce papers and promptly disappeared. "What do you want, Diane?" I replied, not bothering to conceal the hostility I felt. It had been a decent enough day until now.
"I'm sorry, Mark. I know I hurt you, but it was the best thing I could have done. You don't owe me, and I don't have any right to ask, but I'm desperate and there's nobody else to ask. I need a place to stay for a few days. Is there any chance I can borrow your couch? I'll sleep on the floor if I have to. You're not with anyone are you?"
"I pay you plenty to afford a place to stay, Diane. What's this really about?" Being an ex-husband in California wasn't quite like being a field hand in Alabama before the Civil War, but it wasn't far off, either.
"Mark, if I go home, they'll kill me. If I use a credit card, they'll find me."
"And this is bad because...?" I asked, callously. I mean, no more alimony.
"I suppose I deserved that," she admitted, "Goodbye, Mark. I wish I could have explained, but I didn't want to drag you in. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"Wait, Diane," I told her. It was close to ten already. "You can stay here tonight. Tomorrow, you need to find something else." She had to have another friend somewhere. I'd put her on a bus if I had to. I started to give her my address, then stopped. I'd changed my cell number when she left. "How did you get this number?"
"Mark, I'll be there in half an hour. I can't explain much without dragging you in, but what I can, I will. I know where you live. Thank you!" She hung up.
Well, shit. She'd suckered me again. Seven years since she just vanished (well, except for the lawyer that worked the divorce for her). I hadn't been able to make a go of any relationship since, and I knew exactly why, and she'd still suckered me.
Damn.
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It had been seven years since she abruptly served me with divorce papers and promptly disappeared. "What do you want, Diane?" I replied, not bothering to conceal the hostility I felt. It had been a decent enough day until now.
"I'm sorry, Mark. I know I hurt you, but it was the best thing I could have done. You don't owe me, and I don't have any right to ask, but I'm desperate and there's nobody else to ask. I need a place to stay for a few days. Is there any chance I can borrow your couch? I'll sleep on the floor if I have to. You're not with anyone are you?"
"I pay you plenty to afford a place to stay, Diane. What's this really about?" Being an ex-husband in California wasn't quite like being a field hand in Alabama before the Civil War, but it wasn't far off, either.
"Mark, if I go home, they'll kill me. If I use a credit card, they'll find me."
"And this is bad because...?" I asked, callously. I mean, no more alimony.
"I suppose I deserved that," she admitted, "Goodbye, Mark. I wish I could have explained, but I didn't want to drag you in. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"Wait, Diane," I told her. It was close to ten already. "You can stay here tonight. Tomorrow, you need to find something else." She had to have another friend somewhere. I'd put her on a bus if I had to. I started to give her my address, then stopped. I'd changed my cell number when she left. "How did you get this number?"
"Mark, I'll be there in half an hour. I can't explain much without dragging you in, but what I can, I will. I know where you live. Thank you!" She hung up.
Well, shit. She'd suckered me again. Seven years since she just vanished (well, except for the lawyer that worked the divorce for her). I hadn't been able to make a go of any relationship since, and I knew exactly why, and she'd still suckered me.
Damn.
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Available through Amazon and the Books2Read retailers
#fantasy #urbanfantasy
August 17, 2020
Premise: Calmena and the Preparations For War series
The idea was simple: Demons have found a species (humanity) that has more potential to resist their conquest than any they have previously encountered due to operant abilities. But they've also found a planet which has lost contact with the main part of the Empire, and has also lost understanding of the gifts and of the technology - but that doesn't mean there are no genetic carriers of the gifts.
So as they did with the likaans so long ago, they kidnap a number of humans, taking them to a nearby world (Calmena, aka Epsilon Indi A II), to breed them for operant gifts and for obedience.
Unfortunately for the demons, humans are more resilient than the likaans were. A few do indeed become part of bloodlines prized for their obedience and usefullness in controlling other humans. More are simply ignored, except as slaves or food. And one managed to lead the first successful revolt, establishing an independent human stronghold on Calmena.
It's been twenty thousand Earth years or so since then. The operant agaani, leaders of the independent humans, have become nearly as oppressive as the demons they won independence from. The fact that their independence is holding on by its fingernails is only an excuse for their abuse of the non-operant humans they lead.
That's the situation when the Empire of Humanity finds Calmena. Since Calmena has long established gates leading to the demonic homelands, it's the starting place for a fast route into the heart of the demons power. If the Empire can map those gates and where they lead, they will have the opportunity to strike a critical, perhaps decisive blow against the demons when hostilities resume. But while the Empire cannot have the demons learning that the Empire knows about Calmena, they are not without compassion for the humans forced to live in such a place. To that end, they form a charity with the goal of helping the Calmenans free themselves. Those working on Calmena must be careful to make the advances appear to be native ingenuity.
Preparations for War has three books currently, and I'm working on the fourth, which will be the last. They are available in e-book or paperback, from Amazon and the Books2Read retailers (Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, etcetera. Includes at least two library services, so you can request them from your public library, too)
Book One: Preparing The Ground Amazon Books2Read retailers
Book Two: Building The People Amazon Books2Read
Book Three: Setting The Board Amazon Books2Read
Book Four: Moving The Pieces will be the last. I'm currently writing it in conjunction with The End of Childhood, with which it has some events in common.
So as they did with the likaans so long ago, they kidnap a number of humans, taking them to a nearby world (Calmena, aka Epsilon Indi A II), to breed them for operant gifts and for obedience.
Unfortunately for the demons, humans are more resilient than the likaans were. A few do indeed become part of bloodlines prized for their obedience and usefullness in controlling other humans. More are simply ignored, except as slaves or food. And one managed to lead the first successful revolt, establishing an independent human stronghold on Calmena.
It's been twenty thousand Earth years or so since then. The operant agaani, leaders of the independent humans, have become nearly as oppressive as the demons they won independence from. The fact that their independence is holding on by its fingernails is only an excuse for their abuse of the non-operant humans they lead.
That's the situation when the Empire of Humanity finds Calmena. Since Calmena has long established gates leading to the demonic homelands, it's the starting place for a fast route into the heart of the demons power. If the Empire can map those gates and where they lead, they will have the opportunity to strike a critical, perhaps decisive blow against the demons when hostilities resume. But while the Empire cannot have the demons learning that the Empire knows about Calmena, they are not without compassion for the humans forced to live in such a place. To that end, they form a charity with the goal of helping the Calmenans free themselves. Those working on Calmena must be careful to make the advances appear to be native ingenuity.
Preparations for War has three books currently, and I'm working on the fourth, which will be the last. They are available in e-book or paperback, from Amazon and the Books2Read retailers (Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, etcetera. Includes at least two library services, so you can request them from your public library, too)
Book One: Preparing The Ground Amazon Books2Read retailers
Book Two: Building The People Amazon Books2Read
Book Three: Setting The Board Amazon Books2Read
Book Four: Moving The Pieces will be the last. I'm currently writing it in conjunction with The End of Childhood, with which it has some events in common.
August 11, 2020
Excerpt from The Fountains of Aescalon
Since my last feature was from The Monad Trap, I thought this one should be from the novel preceding it, as well as the First Book in Connected Realms.
My brother been right; the antigravity stopped working as soon as I was through. The pallet collapsed heavily onto the two axles I'd just installed.
The surface I was on was hard rock. Despite the fact that all I could see or perceive of this place was flat or at most gently sloping, all of the rock appeared to be igneous. Granite, basalt, pumice, etcetera, and all the variants, but absurdly rich in uncommon elements. Crystalline minerals glittered upon the surface in profusion up to the size of my hand or so, and my perception informed me that this was the case below the surface as well. Many of those crystals were precious or semi-precious stones. Pools and puddles of water ranging in size from nothing on up to perhaps a couple ifourths across speckled the landscape, the markings of small streams flowing out of them. This place broke all the rules of planetary geology. At least the rules we thought we knew, and the Empire had seen trillions of planets and planetoids. Smaller rocks and loose soil were practically non-existent. Nor did there seem to be any sort of indigenous life. No plants at all. I wondered where the oxygen-rich air was coming from.
True to the warning, the dimensionality here was roughly three point twelve. Due to higher dimensionality, material borders were somewhat more difficult to traverse - the fractal surfaces generated more friction with the cart's tires than a strictly three dimensional surface would have.
It seemed that the most recent rain couldn't have been too long ago. I didn't see signs of significant evaporation from the natural limits of the depressions sheltering the water. But what my perception 'saw' was completely unexpected - the water was charged with an energy that reminded me of quantum foam, but tangible in the macroscopic universe, the richest source for matra I'd ever seen, or been told of for that matter. The water literally shone in some of the larger pools, merely glittering in the smaller ones. Perhaps the difference in intensity was a clue to how long it had been?
A trail had been worn onto the rock nearby, and people were following it. How had a trail become worn in a place seemingly devoid of plant life, which by all the rules I knew would have also precluded animal life?
Around me were several different sorts and even different species of what were obviously sentients, although even on the trails, there was plenty of room between individuals or groups. Humans I obviously recognized. There were also human variants, like a group of tall pale white stick-thin people with bright blue or violet eyes and hair that ranged from white to pale blue to pale yellow. It wasn't the thin of starvation or inactivity as they had excellent muscle definition, instead it seemed to be what was natural for them. I did a quick scan; genetically they were as human as I was, which is to say human with a few additions. As I walked, I discovered that there were also an amazing variety of nonhumans, from anthropoid to saurian to insectoid and just about everything else imaginable. As I said, this place appeared to break all the rules I thought I knew.
The trails seemed to follow mostly higher points in the terrain. At irregular intervals, there would be a junction or a branching. Some of them were barely footpaths, others were worn so smooth and wide they might as well have been a paved highway. Gently sloping swaths of bare rock surrounded us, none of them more than a few times human height. Despite the presence of the various sentients within my sight range, there were no permanent structures visible anywhere.
Visibility was low; there was a ubiquitous mist. Vision was restricted to no more than a few minutes' walk at most. At times, it was as low as perhaps sixty long paces or so. Nonetheless, it seemed we were on the inside of what could be most easily described as the hollowed out center of a large rock, the cavern no bigger than I could travel completely around at an easy pace in a few hours. What was holding us to the surface of the enclosing rock wasn't easy to describe. It wasn't gravity, and it wasn't centripetal force like an annular habitat. It seemed to be a byproduct of dimensionality that seemed to increase the closer you got to the center of the cavern. It seemed I weighed no more than half what I had on Nexus, but dimensionality varied from barely more than three to three point eighteen just over the narrow range of elevations I'd already encountered. Up at the very center, it seemed most likely dimensionality would be the full eleven. You could hear water falling constantly; sometimes the trail would parallel a small stream for a distance. Above us, somewhere in the mist, were some kind of multicolored light sources. I wasn't certain how many there were at present but I was certain there was more than one. The thick mist precluded shadows, but there were diffraction patterns in the mist that were beautiful, gold and blue and red and white sparkles. Further establishing the particulars seemed like something that could wait until I was established.
On second thought, maybe what I heard wasn't necessarily water. It was liquid, and the only liquid I'd seen was water, but I couldn't be certain that all of the liquid I was hearing was water. And since my brain had kicked in, I decided that before I wandered off too far I'd better mark my point of arrival and see if I couldn't figure out the translation that had brought me here. An inter-bubble gate was a major working; I should be able to back trace it for some time but it would never be easier than now. No, I wasn't planning to renege on my deal to leave the Empire and stay out, but knowing where I was in relation to the Empire would be useful someday. Besides, if survival necessitated me sneaking back to the Empire at some point in the future, better I was in a position to make that decision based upon practicality rather than have ignorance eclipse one of my options. With that in mind, I began a return to my starting point.
But when I turned back around, pulling my wheeled pallet behind me, I encountered a small troop of what appeared to be somewhat crustacean-like creatures. They thought of themselves as the diligar. They had hard exoskeletons, which obviously molted at regular intervals while growing. Six three-segmented, insect-like armored legs supported each one, perhaps knee height off the ground or a little more, rising slightly towards the front of the segment. They had a broad, fleshy, flat tail, also armored, behind their torso. A front segment of their torso rose at an angle roughly two-thirds of the way from horizontal towards vertical, to a final elevation about my own height, and sprouted four more armored, three segmented legs, each with four fleshy manipulative appendages in a rectangular pattern at the end. Probably not as flexible as human hands, but plenty good enough for grasping, and twice as many of them. Two faceted, insectile eyes on short, independently moving eyestalks rose from the top of the front segment. Color seemed to be very dark brown, fading around the edges of the segments to a dirty white. Age seemed to make the colors more vivid rather than darker. Perception said that only the underbelly of the horizontal torso was less than fully armored, likely where they escaped their shell when it was time to molt. The three individuals out of fourteen who seemed to be highest status had a metal plate across this vulnerable part of their belly, held in place by fibrous straps. Several others had a similar covering that might have been a piece of a previously molted shell. It seemed likely the species had aquatic ancestry, and still spent some part of their life cycle in water. They carried bladed, serrated iron spears slightly more than human height in length.
I was pulling my cart along the trail at the fold of land between two gentle hills, walking back the short distance back to where I'd appeared when they confronted me with angry sounds and gestures telling me to get off the trail, I was an obstacle to them. Fair enough; there were fourteen of them and only one of me although it would have been just as easy for all fourteen of them to walk around my cart. Auros made it easy enough to understand what they were thinking despite the language barrier. Yes, they were being more aggressive than there was reason to be, but I wasn't looking for trouble, and it was better not to get involved in any confrontations before I understood the set-up around here. So I began pulling my cart off the 'trail' to allow them to pass.
Their young leader, decorated with a red star in four points, hauled off and tried to hit me with his blade, thinking to punish me for not having been faster. For having the temerity to think that perhaps I had the same right to the trail as him. And that I was not going to tolerate. My charged bondsteel sword was in my hand, and I parried, forcing his spear down into the ground with the flat of the dark gray blade. He would have had to have been blind not to see the difference in quality of the metals. I was yielding the trail because I didn't want trouble, not because I was incapable of contesting it. And I stood there calmly, gaze on the closest thing he had to a face (the area between his eyes), while I used auros to send to all of them, I yield the trail because I prefer not to fight. If that's your desire, go in peace. But if you're determined to have a fight, there's no point in me evading one.
Several of them were mentally startled at the message. An older member of the troop, with more discretion and perhaps a veteran's eye for how easily I'd responded, tried to defuse the situation, gently tugging his leader in a direction that would have taken them both around me and the cart.
The leader wasn't having it. Obviously a young male, he barked a short command, and tried to wrench his spear away from my blade in attack. The other soldiers began moving their spears in my direction.
I simply stepped inside as the leader's spear wrenched away, and calmly cut him in two just above the angle in his carapace. The bondsteel blade was sharp, three to four atoms across on the edges, and hull-charged. I could have cut a solid steel block almost as easily as I cut through the young aristocrat. On the back stroke, I caught the three spears closest to me, gathering them on the strong part of the blade in a classic circular parry before I used the base of the main edge to cut the heads off those spears.
I took one step back, viewing the tableau in front of me, sending We are taught that those who attack us should not do so with impunity. Your leader attacked me twice, but he has paid with his life. This doesn't need to go any further.
The Fountains of Aescalon is available in e-book and paperback from both Amazon and all of the Books2Read retailers
https://www.books2read.com/u/bwWMgY
#fantasy #manyworlds
My brother been right; the antigravity stopped working as soon as I was through. The pallet collapsed heavily onto the two axles I'd just installed.
The surface I was on was hard rock. Despite the fact that all I could see or perceive of this place was flat or at most gently sloping, all of the rock appeared to be igneous. Granite, basalt, pumice, etcetera, and all the variants, but absurdly rich in uncommon elements. Crystalline minerals glittered upon the surface in profusion up to the size of my hand or so, and my perception informed me that this was the case below the surface as well. Many of those crystals were precious or semi-precious stones. Pools and puddles of water ranging in size from nothing on up to perhaps a couple ifourths across speckled the landscape, the markings of small streams flowing out of them. This place broke all the rules of planetary geology. At least the rules we thought we knew, and the Empire had seen trillions of planets and planetoids. Smaller rocks and loose soil were practically non-existent. Nor did there seem to be any sort of indigenous life. No plants at all. I wondered where the oxygen-rich air was coming from.
True to the warning, the dimensionality here was roughly three point twelve. Due to higher dimensionality, material borders were somewhat more difficult to traverse - the fractal surfaces generated more friction with the cart's tires than a strictly three dimensional surface would have.
It seemed that the most recent rain couldn't have been too long ago. I didn't see signs of significant evaporation from the natural limits of the depressions sheltering the water. But what my perception 'saw' was completely unexpected - the water was charged with an energy that reminded me of quantum foam, but tangible in the macroscopic universe, the richest source for matra I'd ever seen, or been told of for that matter. The water literally shone in some of the larger pools, merely glittering in the smaller ones. Perhaps the difference in intensity was a clue to how long it had been?
A trail had been worn onto the rock nearby, and people were following it. How had a trail become worn in a place seemingly devoid of plant life, which by all the rules I knew would have also precluded animal life?
Around me were several different sorts and even different species of what were obviously sentients, although even on the trails, there was plenty of room between individuals or groups. Humans I obviously recognized. There were also human variants, like a group of tall pale white stick-thin people with bright blue or violet eyes and hair that ranged from white to pale blue to pale yellow. It wasn't the thin of starvation or inactivity as they had excellent muscle definition, instead it seemed to be what was natural for them. I did a quick scan; genetically they were as human as I was, which is to say human with a few additions. As I walked, I discovered that there were also an amazing variety of nonhumans, from anthropoid to saurian to insectoid and just about everything else imaginable. As I said, this place appeared to break all the rules I thought I knew.
The trails seemed to follow mostly higher points in the terrain. At irregular intervals, there would be a junction or a branching. Some of them were barely footpaths, others were worn so smooth and wide they might as well have been a paved highway. Gently sloping swaths of bare rock surrounded us, none of them more than a few times human height. Despite the presence of the various sentients within my sight range, there were no permanent structures visible anywhere.
Visibility was low; there was a ubiquitous mist. Vision was restricted to no more than a few minutes' walk at most. At times, it was as low as perhaps sixty long paces or so. Nonetheless, it seemed we were on the inside of what could be most easily described as the hollowed out center of a large rock, the cavern no bigger than I could travel completely around at an easy pace in a few hours. What was holding us to the surface of the enclosing rock wasn't easy to describe. It wasn't gravity, and it wasn't centripetal force like an annular habitat. It seemed to be a byproduct of dimensionality that seemed to increase the closer you got to the center of the cavern. It seemed I weighed no more than half what I had on Nexus, but dimensionality varied from barely more than three to three point eighteen just over the narrow range of elevations I'd already encountered. Up at the very center, it seemed most likely dimensionality would be the full eleven. You could hear water falling constantly; sometimes the trail would parallel a small stream for a distance. Above us, somewhere in the mist, were some kind of multicolored light sources. I wasn't certain how many there were at present but I was certain there was more than one. The thick mist precluded shadows, but there were diffraction patterns in the mist that were beautiful, gold and blue and red and white sparkles. Further establishing the particulars seemed like something that could wait until I was established.
On second thought, maybe what I heard wasn't necessarily water. It was liquid, and the only liquid I'd seen was water, but I couldn't be certain that all of the liquid I was hearing was water. And since my brain had kicked in, I decided that before I wandered off too far I'd better mark my point of arrival and see if I couldn't figure out the translation that had brought me here. An inter-bubble gate was a major working; I should be able to back trace it for some time but it would never be easier than now. No, I wasn't planning to renege on my deal to leave the Empire and stay out, but knowing where I was in relation to the Empire would be useful someday. Besides, if survival necessitated me sneaking back to the Empire at some point in the future, better I was in a position to make that decision based upon practicality rather than have ignorance eclipse one of my options. With that in mind, I began a return to my starting point.
But when I turned back around, pulling my wheeled pallet behind me, I encountered a small troop of what appeared to be somewhat crustacean-like creatures. They thought of themselves as the diligar. They had hard exoskeletons, which obviously molted at regular intervals while growing. Six three-segmented, insect-like armored legs supported each one, perhaps knee height off the ground or a little more, rising slightly towards the front of the segment. They had a broad, fleshy, flat tail, also armored, behind their torso. A front segment of their torso rose at an angle roughly two-thirds of the way from horizontal towards vertical, to a final elevation about my own height, and sprouted four more armored, three segmented legs, each with four fleshy manipulative appendages in a rectangular pattern at the end. Probably not as flexible as human hands, but plenty good enough for grasping, and twice as many of them. Two faceted, insectile eyes on short, independently moving eyestalks rose from the top of the front segment. Color seemed to be very dark brown, fading around the edges of the segments to a dirty white. Age seemed to make the colors more vivid rather than darker. Perception said that only the underbelly of the horizontal torso was less than fully armored, likely where they escaped their shell when it was time to molt. The three individuals out of fourteen who seemed to be highest status had a metal plate across this vulnerable part of their belly, held in place by fibrous straps. Several others had a similar covering that might have been a piece of a previously molted shell. It seemed likely the species had aquatic ancestry, and still spent some part of their life cycle in water. They carried bladed, serrated iron spears slightly more than human height in length.
I was pulling my cart along the trail at the fold of land between two gentle hills, walking back the short distance back to where I'd appeared when they confronted me with angry sounds and gestures telling me to get off the trail, I was an obstacle to them. Fair enough; there were fourteen of them and only one of me although it would have been just as easy for all fourteen of them to walk around my cart. Auros made it easy enough to understand what they were thinking despite the language barrier. Yes, they were being more aggressive than there was reason to be, but I wasn't looking for trouble, and it was better not to get involved in any confrontations before I understood the set-up around here. So I began pulling my cart off the 'trail' to allow them to pass.
Their young leader, decorated with a red star in four points, hauled off and tried to hit me with his blade, thinking to punish me for not having been faster. For having the temerity to think that perhaps I had the same right to the trail as him. And that I was not going to tolerate. My charged bondsteel sword was in my hand, and I parried, forcing his spear down into the ground with the flat of the dark gray blade. He would have had to have been blind not to see the difference in quality of the metals. I was yielding the trail because I didn't want trouble, not because I was incapable of contesting it. And I stood there calmly, gaze on the closest thing he had to a face (the area between his eyes), while I used auros to send to all of them, I yield the trail because I prefer not to fight. If that's your desire, go in peace. But if you're determined to have a fight, there's no point in me evading one.
Several of them were mentally startled at the message. An older member of the troop, with more discretion and perhaps a veteran's eye for how easily I'd responded, tried to defuse the situation, gently tugging his leader in a direction that would have taken them both around me and the cart.
The leader wasn't having it. Obviously a young male, he barked a short command, and tried to wrench his spear away from my blade in attack. The other soldiers began moving their spears in my direction.
I simply stepped inside as the leader's spear wrenched away, and calmly cut him in two just above the angle in his carapace. The bondsteel blade was sharp, three to four atoms across on the edges, and hull-charged. I could have cut a solid steel block almost as easily as I cut through the young aristocrat. On the back stroke, I caught the three spears closest to me, gathering them on the strong part of the blade in a classic circular parry before I used the base of the main edge to cut the heads off those spears.
I took one step back, viewing the tableau in front of me, sending We are taught that those who attack us should not do so with impunity. Your leader attacked me twice, but he has paid with his life. This doesn't need to go any further.
The Fountains of Aescalon is available in e-book and paperback from both Amazon and all of the Books2Read retailers
https://www.books2read.com/u/bwWMgY
#fantasy #manyworlds
August 4, 2020
Excerpt from The Monad Trap
Instead of an excerpt from my work in progress, here's an excerpt from my most recently published novel, The Monad Trap, Book Two of Connected Realms. It is available to the right through Amazon and all of the Books2Read retailers.
*******
Afterwards, I felt her revert to her more accustomed shape as we lay entwined together, enjoying the feeling of simply touching and being touched as we enjoyed each other's company. "Hast thou an entertainment planned for Queen Veronia's salon?" she asked.
"I hadn't planned on one. You had told me you wanted to provide a contribution, and since most couples include but one wizard, I had not thought it necessary."
"Is my lord husband concerned I shall be angry if his entertainment is superior?"
"The thought had crossed my mind, milady, but the real item of concern is I am not of Migurd as yet. My last entertainment drew admiration from the other wizards for technical ability, but little applause from the crowd for pleasing their tastes. I am certain they shall enjoy your contribution more."
"You're still worrying the concern we discussed earlier."
"Aye, and a hundred others as well. If ever an ultsi focuses upon a single task, milady, then you should be concerned."
She laughed, a musical sound I loved to hear. "That is obvious to all who have met you. The only thing I've seen you focus on completely was the diligar invasion."
It was my turn to laugh, "Milady, I solved the nature of Eternals while facing Klikitit, and several other problems besides. It would take more than that to cause me to focus all of my resources. A hostile ultsi or pentsi would be the least of such concerns as could claim my undivided attention, not least because of the damage they could wreak in passing did I not do so."
"And what problem are you worrying now?"
"The largest such cluster not banned from discussion by your edict earlier is the nature of monads."
"And what have you learned?"
"Mostly, how little information I possess. The obvious conclusion is I must devise a means for locating them and studying them directly."
"You intend to capture a monad?" She was horrified.
"I did not say that, milady, merely that I intend to locate and study them. I would never begin an inquiry with an action likely to draw ire."
"I notice you haven't ruled it out, either."
"I haven't ruled out burning down all of creation, O Jewel of My Heart, yet you do not seem concerned over the likelihood I should do so."
"You're obsessed, not insane," she began, then realized the implications, "Oh," and smiled.
*******
Afterwards, I felt her revert to her more accustomed shape as we lay entwined together, enjoying the feeling of simply touching and being touched as we enjoyed each other's company. "Hast thou an entertainment planned for Queen Veronia's salon?" she asked.
"I hadn't planned on one. You had told me you wanted to provide a contribution, and since most couples include but one wizard, I had not thought it necessary."
"Is my lord husband concerned I shall be angry if his entertainment is superior?"
"The thought had crossed my mind, milady, but the real item of concern is I am not of Migurd as yet. My last entertainment drew admiration from the other wizards for technical ability, but little applause from the crowd for pleasing their tastes. I am certain they shall enjoy your contribution more."
"You're still worrying the concern we discussed earlier."
"Aye, and a hundred others as well. If ever an ultsi focuses upon a single task, milady, then you should be concerned."
She laughed, a musical sound I loved to hear. "That is obvious to all who have met you. The only thing I've seen you focus on completely was the diligar invasion."
It was my turn to laugh, "Milady, I solved the nature of Eternals while facing Klikitit, and several other problems besides. It would take more than that to cause me to focus all of my resources. A hostile ultsi or pentsi would be the least of such concerns as could claim my undivided attention, not least because of the damage they could wreak in passing did I not do so."
"And what problem are you worrying now?"
"The largest such cluster not banned from discussion by your edict earlier is the nature of monads."
"And what have you learned?"
"Mostly, how little information I possess. The obvious conclusion is I must devise a means for locating them and studying them directly."
"You intend to capture a monad?" She was horrified.
"I did not say that, milady, merely that I intend to locate and study them. I would never begin an inquiry with an action likely to draw ire."
"I notice you haven't ruled it out, either."
"I haven't ruled out burning down all of creation, O Jewel of My Heart, yet you do not seem concerned over the likelihood I should do so."
"You're obsessed, not insane," she began, then realized the implications, "Oh," and smiled.
July 25, 2020
Short Excerpt from the first draft of The End of Childhood
Upon returning to our apartment, I called for a family meeting, "I'm going to make a decision about whether to do some counter-intelligence work for Grandfather Scimtar, but I want your input before I do." I already knew Asto would support my decision, even if I changed my mind and turned Scimtar down. But I wanted the kids to have a chance to voice their concerns. Working counter-intelligence would require a different sort of time commitment than the four to eight hours per week I was working for Secundus Yeriala as an investigator.
"Do you have to?" Alden asked.
"No, I don't have to, but it's something that would be a big help, and your father's splinter is here to watch over you."
"You heard Uncle Iaren," Esteban replied, "War is almost here. If mom stops something that keeps a planet's defenses intact, she could save a lot of lives."
"You also heard Uncle Amras," Alden replied, "This could go on for years."
"Uncle Amras also said Mom's not under an oath of service. She can quit anytime it gets to be too much." That was Ilras.
Ilora: "Since when does Mom quit at anything?"
"And we're top of that list she'll never quit on," Esteban replied.
"Dear family," I broke in, "I didn't ask for an argument. Nor will there be a vote. I will make this decision. I was only asking for input, particularly informative input."
Ilras, who loved to play Devil's Advocate, "Isn't persuasive input part of that?"
"Yes, it is, but use information which does the persuading for you."
"How are we going to do that?" Alden wanted to know.
"An exercise for the student," Asto's splinter told him, "You learn by doing. You'll know you succeeded or failed by the decision she makes." They'd absorbed their lessons well, so you couldn't hear the groans you knew the kids were making internally.
Admittedly, there was a pretty heavy thumb on the scales. I wanted to do this. But I thought it wise to ask my smart kids - and my amazing husband who'd been living with our position his whole life - for their input. Asto had given his input through our link - he thought it a good hoop to jump through, provided I was careful enough not to get myself killed. To his credit, he trusted me to do that without supervision from him or his family. But kids were different.
"Do you have to?" Alden asked.
"No, I don't have to, but it's something that would be a big help, and your father's splinter is here to watch over you."
"You heard Uncle Iaren," Esteban replied, "War is almost here. If mom stops something that keeps a planet's defenses intact, she could save a lot of lives."
"You also heard Uncle Amras," Alden replied, "This could go on for years."
"Uncle Amras also said Mom's not under an oath of service. She can quit anytime it gets to be too much." That was Ilras.
Ilora: "Since when does Mom quit at anything?"
"And we're top of that list she'll never quit on," Esteban replied.
"Dear family," I broke in, "I didn't ask for an argument. Nor will there be a vote. I will make this decision. I was only asking for input, particularly informative input."
Ilras, who loved to play Devil's Advocate, "Isn't persuasive input part of that?"
"Yes, it is, but use information which does the persuading for you."
"How are we going to do that?" Alden wanted to know.
"An exercise for the student," Asto's splinter told him, "You learn by doing. You'll know you succeeded or failed by the decision she makes." They'd absorbed their lessons well, so you couldn't hear the groans you knew the kids were making internally.
Admittedly, there was a pretty heavy thumb on the scales. I wanted to do this. But I thought it wise to ask my smart kids - and my amazing husband who'd been living with our position his whole life - for their input. Asto had given his input through our link - he thought it a good hoop to jump through, provided I was careful enough not to get myself killed. To his credit, he trusted me to do that without supervision from him or his family. But kids were different.
July 12, 2020
Why The Structure of the Empire's Government Looks Libertarian
What are the essential characteristics of the government in the Empire of Humanity?
1. The people running it are very smart.
2. The people running it have a long term outlook - they expect to be around indefinitely. Not like the rulers of most nations on Earth who expect to be dead in a couple of decades.
3. The people running it are Driven. If they weren't, they'd never have gotten so important and if they'd somehow been picked out of a hat, they wouldn't survive the inter-family rivalries.
4. They are aware of what happens to the rulers of any nation when it is conquered or changes rulers from within. They've even intentionally reinforced this rule for the top ruler as a means of protecting the rest of them.
5. They have bent their intelligence towards solving the problems of both keeping the Empire from being conquered and keeping themselves in control. The solution, in broad, looks libertarian from an Earthly point of view, but the root reasons for this have nothing to do with the non-aggression principle, and everything to do with self-preservation on the part of the Empire and its rulers. There are no rights that the government cannot violate if the reason is strong enough - but there are countervailing reasons why they shouldn't do it. As a result, the government and society have a lot in common with a libertarian society, but it is supported not only by the interests of the people, but by the interests of the rulers as well.
1. The people running it are very smart.
2. The people running it have a long term outlook - they expect to be around indefinitely. Not like the rulers of most nations on Earth who expect to be dead in a couple of decades.
3. The people running it are Driven. If they weren't, they'd never have gotten so important and if they'd somehow been picked out of a hat, they wouldn't survive the inter-family rivalries.
4. They are aware of what happens to the rulers of any nation when it is conquered or changes rulers from within. They've even intentionally reinforced this rule for the top ruler as a means of protecting the rest of them.
5. They have bent their intelligence towards solving the problems of both keeping the Empire from being conquered and keeping themselves in control. The solution, in broad, looks libertarian from an Earthly point of view, but the root reasons for this have nothing to do with the non-aggression principle, and everything to do with self-preservation on the part of the Empire and its rulers. There are no rights that the government cannot violate if the reason is strong enough - but there are countervailing reasons why they shouldn't do it. As a result, the government and society have a lot in common with a libertarian society, but it is supported not only by the interests of the people, but by the interests of the rulers as well.
July 5, 2020
Character Interview: The Scimtar/Juarez Children in The End of Childhood
EDIT: To make it clear, these are supporting characters, mostly for color/background. The main viewpoint character is their mother.
1. Go ahead and introduce yourself.
ESTEBAN: From oldest to youngest, I'm Esteban and I'm sixteen Imperial years of age. My younger sister Ilora is fourteen, brother Ilras is thirteen, sister Imtara is twelve, and Alden is eleven. We are the result of our mother deciding to carry children to term instead of using artificial gestation. We have the power of Seventh Order Guardians.
2.Tell us where and when were you born.
ESTEBAN: I was born in the Residence Arcology on Indra while our mother was recovering from a duel. The next three were all born on her pilot module, as she used being one more Vector pilot among several times sixty to the fifth pilots to hide us from our rivals. Alden was also born in the Residence Arcology, right after Dad got his change of service, and a post where he was allowed to live off-base.
3. How would you describe yourself?
ESTEBAN: I'm about an ififth fiftysix, brown skin, black hair, brown eyes. In Earth measure, that's 127 centimeters. For my clueless American cousins, that four feet two inches.
ILORA: I'm the same height as Esteban, but I've been keeping my skin darker, a dark bronze with reddish tinge, like Dad and grandfather Scimtar. My hair is also black.
IlRAS: I'm about about five isixths shorter. It's not like I can't make myself grow, but Mom and Dad say to let it happen naturally for a while. I like being a lighter brown, like Mom, and my hair is the same as hers, a dark brown that's not quite black.
IMTARA: I'm just a little shorter than Ilras, and like Esteban, I see no reason to change what I was born with. Brown skin, black hair, brown eyes.
ESTEBAN: Who told you what I was born like?
IMTARA: Everyone knows. Why are you pretending they don't? But let's let Alden talk.
ALDEN: I'm an ififth thirtyeight.
IMTARA: He's also skinny as a rail!
ALDEN: and lighter skinned, with green eyes, like grandmother.
ESTEBAN: He means Grandmother Anara, not Grandmother Helene, who's really our great grandmother. But he has light brown hair, not red like grandmother!
4. Tell us about where you grew up.
ESTEBAN: Until just before Alden was born, we lived onboard Mom's pilot module. Dad would come visit when he could, but it was fully wired for everything we needed. We'd get out and see the sights and meet people when Mom judged it safe enough, and we had Aunt Tina, too.
ILRAS: And Mischief and Scarecrow!
IMTARA: Dogs don't count, silly!
ILORA: (raising eyebrow)
IMTARA: So maybe they do! But they're still not people!
ALDEN: Since I was born, and especially since the Cor War, we've been living in the family Residence, near the top of Residence Arcology, overlooking the Sumabad Straits on Indra. Sometimes we get to go out and meet people, but security is important. Sometimes, we get to take a break at the Alternate Residence, but we can't have visitors there except a very few.
5. How old are you?
ESTEBAN: We range in age from my sixteen to Alden's eleven. I'll be seventeen soon, and probably decide to start puberty about then.
IMTARA: Remember these people are from Earth!
ESTEBAN: They're on Imperial years same as us. They know an Imperial year is 255 Earth days. They can do the math if they need to.
6. Did you have a happy childhood? Why/why not?
ESTEBAN: Happy is what you make of it. We're immensely rich, even with just Mom and Dad's personal money. When you get into the family money, the Earth slogan about 'born with silver spoons in our mouths' doesn't begin to cover it.
ILORA: We can have anything except safety.
ILRAS: We'll be fine! We've got until we're thirty to learn what we need to! And it's not like the Empire is stuck back in the days of the Fifteen Families! There are over Forty Great Houses now!
ILORA: If we get until we're thirty. The fractal demons think they're ready for war.
ILRAS: Nonsense! Grandfather and the other Great Ones are way ahead of the demonic leaders!
ALDEN: Mom and Dad aren't so sure. We need to work hard to be ready in case the demons win.
IMTARA: We know the demons don't respect the Code, but there's nothing we can do but be ready if we need to. If we try to help, we void our protection from the other families!
7. Past/ present relationships? How did they affect you?
ESTEBAN: We're all legal children, none of us even in puberty yet. Our relationships are with our family and family friends.
8. What do you value above all else in life?
ALL FIVE: Family!
9. What are you obsessed with?
ESTEBAN: Improving ourselves!
ILORA: Learning!
ILRAS: They're the same thing!
ALDEN: Not quite...
IMTARA: ...But close enough for most things!
10.How do your beliefs make life better for yourself and the people you care about?
ESTEBAN: Because we're all working to be ready to take care of ourselves and help the family when we take our adulthood tests, our parents and family aren't too worried about us.
IMTARA: Unlike Cousin Urona! Poor Aunt Anana and Uncle Parnit are at their wits' end over her!
ILORA: But there's no getting out of being a member of a Great House! Even if Grandfather threw her out, the others would only see it as a cheap opportunity!
11. Biggest fear?
ESTEBAN: As Ilora said, we can have anything except safety. Not from the other Great Houses, the fractal demons, or the universe in general
12. What line will you never cross?
All Five: The Good of the Human species!
13. What is the best thing that ever happened to you? The worst?
ILORA: One and the same: Being born to a Great House. I envy the average people of the Empire, who get to live whatever lives they want.
ILRAS: Now that's pessimism, sister! Being a Seventh Order Guardian is great!
ALDEN: But we will be targets when we become legal adults. And there is no resigning the bargain.
ESTEBAN: So work hard at learning to handle your abilities and you'll be fine! Ji da to pront!
ILORA: Yes. But I would like to have been asked whether I wanted to pay that price, brother.
14. What is your current goal?
ESTEBAN: For all of us to be ready to survive and contribute when we've passed our adulthood tests.
IMTARA: Yes, both the family and Mom's family have lost too many people already.
1. Go ahead and introduce yourself.
ESTEBAN: From oldest to youngest, I'm Esteban and I'm sixteen Imperial years of age. My younger sister Ilora is fourteen, brother Ilras is thirteen, sister Imtara is twelve, and Alden is eleven. We are the result of our mother deciding to carry children to term instead of using artificial gestation. We have the power of Seventh Order Guardians.
2.Tell us where and when were you born.
ESTEBAN: I was born in the Residence Arcology on Indra while our mother was recovering from a duel. The next three were all born on her pilot module, as she used being one more Vector pilot among several times sixty to the fifth pilots to hide us from our rivals. Alden was also born in the Residence Arcology, right after Dad got his change of service, and a post where he was allowed to live off-base.
3. How would you describe yourself?
ESTEBAN: I'm about an ififth fiftysix, brown skin, black hair, brown eyes. In Earth measure, that's 127 centimeters. For my clueless American cousins, that four feet two inches.
ILORA: I'm the same height as Esteban, but I've been keeping my skin darker, a dark bronze with reddish tinge, like Dad and grandfather Scimtar. My hair is also black.
IlRAS: I'm about about five isixths shorter. It's not like I can't make myself grow, but Mom and Dad say to let it happen naturally for a while. I like being a lighter brown, like Mom, and my hair is the same as hers, a dark brown that's not quite black.
IMTARA: I'm just a little shorter than Ilras, and like Esteban, I see no reason to change what I was born with. Brown skin, black hair, brown eyes.
ESTEBAN: Who told you what I was born like?
IMTARA: Everyone knows. Why are you pretending they don't? But let's let Alden talk.
ALDEN: I'm an ififth thirtyeight.
IMTARA: He's also skinny as a rail!
ALDEN: and lighter skinned, with green eyes, like grandmother.
ESTEBAN: He means Grandmother Anara, not Grandmother Helene, who's really our great grandmother. But he has light brown hair, not red like grandmother!
4. Tell us about where you grew up.
ESTEBAN: Until just before Alden was born, we lived onboard Mom's pilot module. Dad would come visit when he could, but it was fully wired for everything we needed. We'd get out and see the sights and meet people when Mom judged it safe enough, and we had Aunt Tina, too.
ILRAS: And Mischief and Scarecrow!
IMTARA: Dogs don't count, silly!
ILORA: (raising eyebrow)
IMTARA: So maybe they do! But they're still not people!
ALDEN: Since I was born, and especially since the Cor War, we've been living in the family Residence, near the top of Residence Arcology, overlooking the Sumabad Straits on Indra. Sometimes we get to go out and meet people, but security is important. Sometimes, we get to take a break at the Alternate Residence, but we can't have visitors there except a very few.
5. How old are you?
ESTEBAN: We range in age from my sixteen to Alden's eleven. I'll be seventeen soon, and probably decide to start puberty about then.
IMTARA: Remember these people are from Earth!
ESTEBAN: They're on Imperial years same as us. They know an Imperial year is 255 Earth days. They can do the math if they need to.
6. Did you have a happy childhood? Why/why not?
ESTEBAN: Happy is what you make of it. We're immensely rich, even with just Mom and Dad's personal money. When you get into the family money, the Earth slogan about 'born with silver spoons in our mouths' doesn't begin to cover it.
ILORA: We can have anything except safety.
ILRAS: We'll be fine! We've got until we're thirty to learn what we need to! And it's not like the Empire is stuck back in the days of the Fifteen Families! There are over Forty Great Houses now!
ILORA: If we get until we're thirty. The fractal demons think they're ready for war.
ILRAS: Nonsense! Grandfather and the other Great Ones are way ahead of the demonic leaders!
ALDEN: Mom and Dad aren't so sure. We need to work hard to be ready in case the demons win.
IMTARA: We know the demons don't respect the Code, but there's nothing we can do but be ready if we need to. If we try to help, we void our protection from the other families!
7. Past/ present relationships? How did they affect you?
ESTEBAN: We're all legal children, none of us even in puberty yet. Our relationships are with our family and family friends.
8. What do you value above all else in life?
ALL FIVE: Family!
9. What are you obsessed with?
ESTEBAN: Improving ourselves!
ILORA: Learning!
ILRAS: They're the same thing!
ALDEN: Not quite...
IMTARA: ...But close enough for most things!
10.How do your beliefs make life better for yourself and the people you care about?
ESTEBAN: Because we're all working to be ready to take care of ourselves and help the family when we take our adulthood tests, our parents and family aren't too worried about us.
IMTARA: Unlike Cousin Urona! Poor Aunt Anana and Uncle Parnit are at their wits' end over her!
ILORA: But there's no getting out of being a member of a Great House! Even if Grandfather threw her out, the others would only see it as a cheap opportunity!
11. Biggest fear?
ESTEBAN: As Ilora said, we can have anything except safety. Not from the other Great Houses, the fractal demons, or the universe in general
12. What line will you never cross?
All Five: The Good of the Human species!
13. What is the best thing that ever happened to you? The worst?
ILORA: One and the same: Being born to a Great House. I envy the average people of the Empire, who get to live whatever lives they want.
ILRAS: Now that's pessimism, sister! Being a Seventh Order Guardian is great!
ALDEN: But we will be targets when we become legal adults. And there is no resigning the bargain.
ESTEBAN: So work hard at learning to handle your abilities and you'll be fine! Ji da to pront!
ILORA: Yes. But I would like to have been asked whether I wanted to pay that price, brother.
14. What is your current goal?
ESTEBAN: For all of us to be ready to survive and contribute when we've passed our adulthood tests.
IMTARA: Yes, both the family and Mom's family have lost too many people already.
June 25, 2020
First Draft Excerpt of Work in Progress: The End of Childhood
"Have you made a decision about the offer?" Scimtar asked conversationally. He was present in person tonight. Despite being about thirty square years old, he looked like he was at most 25 Earth years of age. Seven feet tall if he was an inch, and thin, with dark brown skin. Had we been on Earth, I'd have guessed his ancestry was somewhere in the Indian subcontinent, but his sharp hawk-nosed face was pure European aristocracy. I think he was keeping his physical appearance close to what nature had given him, but the only person who knew for sure was Scimtar.
"I haven't had a chance to discuss it with the kids and Asto without distractions. I'm planning to bring it up after dinner. You did say I had fifteen hours." I'd decided I wanted to accept it, but I'd figured out that you don't presuppose a result when you're asking for your family's feelings on the matter. Alden was ten - seven Earth. Even Esteban hadn't chosen to start puberty yet. Their father was able to provide a splinter to supervise them at all times - but that didn't mean I didn't want to be involved. I'd promised myself I wouldn't be an absentee parent. Unlike my own mother, I had every prospect of being just as youthful and healthy when they were all adults as I'd been when I'd first gotten pregnant. Unlike my mother's experience, me being a parent wasn't a sacrifice in any meaningful sense - it was only a delay of other things I might do someday.
"Permit me to provide more incentive?" Iaren's splinter asked. The firstborn of Scimtar and Helene's children, he filled a position I still didn't understand on the Supervisor's staff. A few inches shorter than his father, he looked otherwise similar. I didn't need additional incentive, but it might be a good idea for the kids to hear it, so I gave an affirmative nod.
"This is not classified, although wide distribution is not in our interest," he began, "War is imminent. The fractal demons have committed to a series of movements and changes which they cannot maintain for more than a year. Our current half probability estimate is twelve weeks before they attack. Logistics and massive movements always take them longer than they plan for, but not infinitely so."
Twelve weeks in the Empire was 48 days. Hearing that was a shock. To hear it stated in so many words. The Empire had been planning on war with the fractal demons since before Earth had been recontacted - more than twenty years since Asto and I figured it out on our own, and the planning had been going for sixties of years before that. After so long coming, it was something difficult to hear that the moment of reckoning was almost upon us.
I'm not going to lie - the news caused a certain body part to pucker. Yes, the Imperial Great Old Ones - one of whom had just asked me a question - were capable planners with squares of experience each. But so were the demonic leaders. In fact, they'd sucker-punched us once already. Each side had different strengths. It was impossible to guarantee the outcome of this war. No matter who tried, they were limited by the fog of war and their own preconceptions. "I'd say that puts a certain urgency on the job, as well as a limited time frame."
"Don't delude yourself, Grace," Amras' splinter told me, "Just because open war begins doesn't mean the shadow war won't go on. It will likely become more desperate as well. But you aren't under an oath of service." He might as well have been Iaren's twin except his skin was more chocolate than dark cinnamon.
So the Empire couldn't legally force me into service. But that didn't mean they wouldn't exert pressure - especially not in a Great Family. The Scimtars breathed ji da to pront. It meant 'part of the price' - as in part of the price for all the trappings of wealth and power. That alone should tell you the differences between the Empire and every Earth nation I'd been aware of at the time of contact. Every single member of the family spent time in the military - and we'd all begun as bottom rank privates - that was a feature of the imperial military. I'd made it as far as Staff Private - a rank outside of the chain of command used for non-combatant functions, but theoretically senior to Section Private, which went with command of prime forty combat troops, and yes, I had been a section leader. Call it about equal to a first lieutenant in the old US Army. Asto had spent almost double the time in I had, and was a First Corporal, roughly the equivalent of a Brigadier General, except he was now was in Tactical Space - a branch concentrating on smaller warships such as Starbird fighters. Various of his siblings and cousins were scattered up the ranks into the bottom Sergeant grades, then there was a big jump - about forty ranks - into the much older and more experienced older generation who'd fought through the Reunification. All of their spouses were relatively senior as well.
"Grandfather, I'm scared." That was Ilora, the most sensitive of my five. I knew Alden would have done the same if she hadn't spoken up first. The tone of voice was reserved for Great-grandfather Scimtar, rather than Gilras, Asto's father.
"Nothing wrong or shameful about being scared, young one, but never let it control you. You'd have to be a fool not to be scared, but there's no avoiding this particular fight and pretending we could would likely get most of us killed. Let your fear motivate you to be prepared and to be careful."
"I carry my weapons everywhere."
"I know that you do. Practice with them so you're ready when it happens. That will make it easier to control your fear instead of letting it control you."
Yes, it was different advice than I'd gotten growing up. A child of her age in the United States I'd grown up in would have been looking for reassurance. But to be born into a Great House of the Empire meant facing reality from infancy. Ji da to pront - part of the price for who we were.
"I haven't had a chance to discuss it with the kids and Asto without distractions. I'm planning to bring it up after dinner. You did say I had fifteen hours." I'd decided I wanted to accept it, but I'd figured out that you don't presuppose a result when you're asking for your family's feelings on the matter. Alden was ten - seven Earth. Even Esteban hadn't chosen to start puberty yet. Their father was able to provide a splinter to supervise them at all times - but that didn't mean I didn't want to be involved. I'd promised myself I wouldn't be an absentee parent. Unlike my own mother, I had every prospect of being just as youthful and healthy when they were all adults as I'd been when I'd first gotten pregnant. Unlike my mother's experience, me being a parent wasn't a sacrifice in any meaningful sense - it was only a delay of other things I might do someday.
"Permit me to provide more incentive?" Iaren's splinter asked. The firstborn of Scimtar and Helene's children, he filled a position I still didn't understand on the Supervisor's staff. A few inches shorter than his father, he looked otherwise similar. I didn't need additional incentive, but it might be a good idea for the kids to hear it, so I gave an affirmative nod.
"This is not classified, although wide distribution is not in our interest," he began, "War is imminent. The fractal demons have committed to a series of movements and changes which they cannot maintain for more than a year. Our current half probability estimate is twelve weeks before they attack. Logistics and massive movements always take them longer than they plan for, but not infinitely so."
Twelve weeks in the Empire was 48 days. Hearing that was a shock. To hear it stated in so many words. The Empire had been planning on war with the fractal demons since before Earth had been recontacted - more than twenty years since Asto and I figured it out on our own, and the planning had been going for sixties of years before that. After so long coming, it was something difficult to hear that the moment of reckoning was almost upon us.
I'm not going to lie - the news caused a certain body part to pucker. Yes, the Imperial Great Old Ones - one of whom had just asked me a question - were capable planners with squares of experience each. But so were the demonic leaders. In fact, they'd sucker-punched us once already. Each side had different strengths. It was impossible to guarantee the outcome of this war. No matter who tried, they were limited by the fog of war and their own preconceptions. "I'd say that puts a certain urgency on the job, as well as a limited time frame."
"Don't delude yourself, Grace," Amras' splinter told me, "Just because open war begins doesn't mean the shadow war won't go on. It will likely become more desperate as well. But you aren't under an oath of service." He might as well have been Iaren's twin except his skin was more chocolate than dark cinnamon.
So the Empire couldn't legally force me into service. But that didn't mean they wouldn't exert pressure - especially not in a Great Family. The Scimtars breathed ji da to pront. It meant 'part of the price' - as in part of the price for all the trappings of wealth and power. That alone should tell you the differences between the Empire and every Earth nation I'd been aware of at the time of contact. Every single member of the family spent time in the military - and we'd all begun as bottom rank privates - that was a feature of the imperial military. I'd made it as far as Staff Private - a rank outside of the chain of command used for non-combatant functions, but theoretically senior to Section Private, which went with command of prime forty combat troops, and yes, I had been a section leader. Call it about equal to a first lieutenant in the old US Army. Asto had spent almost double the time in I had, and was a First Corporal, roughly the equivalent of a Brigadier General, except he was now was in Tactical Space - a branch concentrating on smaller warships such as Starbird fighters. Various of his siblings and cousins were scattered up the ranks into the bottom Sergeant grades, then there was a big jump - about forty ranks - into the much older and more experienced older generation who'd fought through the Reunification. All of their spouses were relatively senior as well.
"Grandfather, I'm scared." That was Ilora, the most sensitive of my five. I knew Alden would have done the same if she hadn't spoken up first. The tone of voice was reserved for Great-grandfather Scimtar, rather than Gilras, Asto's father.
"Nothing wrong or shameful about being scared, young one, but never let it control you. You'd have to be a fool not to be scared, but there's no avoiding this particular fight and pretending we could would likely get most of us killed. Let your fear motivate you to be prepared and to be careful."
"I carry my weapons everywhere."
"I know that you do. Practice with them so you're ready when it happens. That will make it easier to control your fear instead of letting it control you."
Yes, it was different advice than I'd gotten growing up. A child of her age in the United States I'd grown up in would have been looking for reassurance. But to be born into a Great House of the Empire meant facing reality from infancy. Ji da to pront - part of the price for who we were.
