Justin’s Comments (group member since Mar 13, 2016)

Justin’s comments from the Science Fiction Microstory Contest group.

Hi guys! So sorry to not be tied in. It's that "time between Christmas and New Years" twilight zone for me, where I'm still on vacation, but feel bad for being non-productive. I can't even get in my sound booth because I've got a hole in my garage building roof and I'm waiting for the roofers to show up and repair it. So I've got stuff piled in front of my booth. Very frustrating!

I'm fine with Greg's politics theme along the lines he noted: what systems would aliens use and would they: impose them on humanity? modify our systems to be more acceptable? Disqualify us from the galactic alliance until we get our shit together?

Happy New Year to all of my writing friends!! Best wishes for each of your 2025!

Jot wrote: "Yes, we are lucky to have, Justin, as with the others. Did like that twist at the end of the story."

Thanks Jot!

Tom wrote: "Justin wrote: "Whew! Wasn't sure I was even going to get this one in. I had the idea, but was lacking in motivation. For Christmas I'm now getting a hole in my garage building fixed and, thanks to ..."

Thank you Tom, I really appreciate it!

Voted!

Whew! Wasn't sure I was even going to get this one in. I had the idea, but was lacking in motivation. For Christmas I'm now getting a hole in my garage building fixed and, thanks to my son who decided to try backing out without opening the door first, a new garage door.
Woo-hoo! I'm so excited! :)

I am very thankful to be part of this group and to read all of your stories each month. They inspire me to keep writing and to try and get better.

I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, or whatever holiday you celebrate (or not) at this time - and Happy New Year. Best wishes to you all for 2025!

A Trip into Town

L’Mell leaned up against his peeling white fence and stared out at the dry furrows of his fields. They stretched to the horizon, which was the furthest boundary of his farm. Heat waves rippled up from the ground, distorting everything in the distance, but it did not matter. There was nothing to see for miles except dry dirt, a tired soil being steadily eroded by the merciless winds that threatened to permanently erase his family’s history of farming on these vast plains.

The problem, of course, was water – more specifically the lack of it – due to the changing weather patterns. At least, that was what the government man had told him down at the co-op. There was no rain to speak of and not even a hint of dew in the morning. Their well barely supplied the family’s own daily needs and the cistern from which L’Mell had drawn to flood his fields was now mostly cracked mud. Without a miraculous monsoon season, well, he could not bear to think of the consequences to him and his family.

He heard the crunching of dirt behind him and based on that sound alone he surmised it was his youngest boy, L’Mell-Est. Est clambered up onto the fence and stared out to the horizon with this father.
“You going to the co-op for the meetin’ tonight Daddy?” the boy asked his father. “The whole town’s in a near ruckshun about the big announcement!”
L’Mell laughed and tussled Est’s unruly hair.
“What do you know about the big announcement Est? What’re people sayin’?”
“They say it’s about water Daddy, and some new way to get water from up north.”
“From up north?” L’Mell replied incredulously.
“How the heck are they gonna get water from up there all the way down here near the equator? Don’t make no sense but I reckon’ the government man will speak his peace and keep the ruckshun going.”
Est rocked back and forth on the top rung of the fence and let his Dad continue his well-worn monologue about the worthlessness of government men and their busy-body projects. When his father finally took a breath he quickly interjected.
“Can I go with you tonight Daddy? To the co-op? I ain’t been in a while and it’d be fun to see my friends. Maybe even get a sarsaparilla.”
“A sarsaparilla huh?” smiled L’Mell knowingly. “Well let’s see what your mother says and if she’s amenable then you can get the wagon ready. Okay?”
“Thanks Daddy!” said Est while hopping down from the fence. “I’ll go ask her!”
The boy took off towards the house, leaving a trail of dust in his wake until he was completely obscured by it.

It was dark by the time L’Mell and Est pulled into town, but the streetlights were lit and light poured from the windows and open doors of the co-op meeting hall. All the farmers from the surrounding district had been invited and based on the number of parked wagons and crowded hitching posts, it seemed that most of them had decided to attend. The father and son made their way into the hall, greeting neighbors on the way in and exchanging such news as there was to be had before finding some seats near the back.

Finally the head of the co-op banged a gavel on the table before him and surrendered the floor to the government man, who stood up, surrounded by an unmistakable aura of self-importance. He strode around the stage, hands holding the lapels of his suit, until the noise in the hall died away.

“Good evening gentlemen, thank you all for coming. Tonight, I’m going to address an issue that is concerning to us all: water. You can’t grow your crops and our towns can’t survive without it.” He strode over to an easel that was draped in cloth and with one adroit tug, revealed a large diagram beneath it. Murmurs rippled throughout the hall.

“Since the rains have failed us and the groundwater levels here are dropping far beyond our ability to drill, we need another way to get water to our equatorial farms. So what we are proposing – and begun I might add, is to dig giant canals to bring water from the polar regions to the equatorial plains. As the ice melts, it will send billions of deciliters through these canals and out to each of your farms…”

On Earth, Giovanni Schiaparelli focused his telescope on Mars and gasped at what he saw.

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2024
Reviews/critiques welcome

That's a good one Tom! Nicely done!

Jot wrote: "Glad to hear your role is solid and sorry for the loss for the others. I've been through many rounds of that and it never feels good. Like part of the company dies. Hope they can get better managem..."

Thanks Jot!!

Jot wrote: "I hope that layoff doesn't hit you, Justin"

Thanks Jot!

No, it did not. There will be another round in December, but since they are dumping another RIF'd person's work statement onto me, I doubt I'll be in that boat. I always just assume I will be so it's not a shock to the system. I work hard and do a good job and really excel, but being salaried, non-union means Boeing can let me go at any time for no reason at all. Several of my co-workers have been RIF'd and it's really hurting morale. And while we are getting reimbursed for the week of furlough we had to endure (lost 50% of a paycheck), we have to wait until 12/13 to get it back.

Tom wrote: "An impressive and ambitious vision of galactic empire, Justin."

Thank you Tom! I love flinging those large galactic empires out there! Much appreciated!

Voted! Sorry for the delay! I was without power from Tuesday to Friday - but this time I was prepared with a generator (unlike two years ago). So I kept my hot water, light, Internet, etc. Keeping it gassed up meant a lot of trips to the gas station, but it would run 9 hours easy. Anyway, I'm back on regular power.

Welcome Grout! A great story!

Pride goeth…

The Imlari main battle fleet hung in a box formation at the edge of Imlaris Prime’s gravity well. It stretched one-hundred kilometers in all three axes, with the flag ship nestled safely at its heart, and surrounded by an impenetrable wall of capital ships who were also protected with their own squadrons of escorts. They sat, waiting for the signal to make the jump into hyperspace. Never in the history of the Imlari Navy had there been such an assemblage of concentrated firepower, nor had there ever been a need – that is, until the foundation of the Primacy and its insatiable need for dominion and empire. With lightening speed, those systems closest to the Primacy had fallen quickly and long since been under its control, forming the first ring of a broad suzerainty that stretched for light years.

As weapons technology, propulsion, and deep space naval architecture advanced, so had the Primacy, uncoiling its tentacles in every direction across the galactic plane and expanding into new rings with frightening efficiency and ruthlessness. Yet now, as the Primacy moved to solidify control of its seventeenth ring, their expansion had run headlong into an unexpected obstacle: Earth. And it was this obstacle, and all of its associated colonies and confederations, that Grand Fleet Admiral T’Kal was tasked with removing. The Earthers, were, in Imlari estimation, unremarkable and not worth admitting into the Primacy even as a slave race. They would simply be an unacceptable drain on resources. Surprisingly, the Earthers were tenacious fighters, even if their ships were outmatched in almost every way. They had fought almost every Imlari task force to a draw, even while incurring horrendous losses in ships and personnel. “Now here I am, using every Imlari resource imaginable!” thought T’Kal to himself, drumming his blue fingers on the arms of his command chair.

“Give me a fleet status please,” he ordered. He did not even specify who, as each of the command bridge personnel knew their roles and exactly who should respond with the appropriate information.
“All ships report ready Grand Fleet Admiral. We are finalizing our hyperspace calculations and checklist now.”
“Open a channel to the fleet.”
“Channel open sir.”
“All ships, all stations, this is Grand Fleet Admiral T’Kal. Today, we are embarking on a grand crusade to exterminate the Earthers once and for all and solidify our grasp on the seventeenth ring of the Primacy. No quarter will be asked or given. This is genocide and the elimination of every last Earther who dares stand in our way. Our victory will be so complete that none shall be left of their species to mourn their destruction or even record it. Maintain formation upon exiting hyperspace and prepare to open fire.”
“All ships acknowledge sir.”
“On my mark…Execute!”
In a blinding flash, the entire strength of the Imlari main battle fleet vanished in an instant.
***
“Sir, we’ve just picked up a massive energy spike entering hyperspace.”
“Estimated Imlari ships?”
“If I were to hazard a guess sir, I’d have to say…all of them.”
“So…it’s time…”
The Earth Commander paused only briefly.
“Deploy the fleet and put all stations on red alert.”
“Aye sir. Transmitting orders now…”
***
Earth’s main battle fleet hung in a box formation at the L2 Lagrange Point, yet it only stretched a modest thirty kilometers across and along but one axis. To call the assembled ships a battle fleet was a gross misnomer. Oh, there were warships, but they were scattered in and amongst freighters and haulers, mining ships, orbital lighters and passenger cruisers. Any ship that could be assembled to fill the ranks was drafted into the fleet – and it was this fleet that faced the Imlari as they exited hyperspace. There was no hesitation by either side. The Imlari warships illuminated the opposing fleet with a cascade of energy weapons, while the remaining Earth warships fired salvos of missiles and railgun projectiles.

“Continue firing until all vessels are destroyed, then prepare for orbital bombardment,” ordered T’Kal. He calmly watched the battle unfold, safe and secure within the heart of the Imlari fleet.
“All too easy,” he thought to himself smugly.
At that moment, one of his battleship escorts seemed to briefly expand and then contract in upon itself, disappearing in a flash of light. It happened again to a heavy cruiser, and again to three frigates. In rapid succession, rows and rows of the Imlari main battle fleet disappeared into nothingness, victims of the Earthers new micro blackhole mines.

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2024
Reviews/critiques welcome

Yikes Tom! That's scary good!

Yes, great work Greg!!

Is anyone else not getting Goodreads email notifications anymore? I used to get notified if there was an update to the group, but now it's just nothing.

Tom wrote: "Very potent story, Justin. Ominous foreboding building up to nail-biting suspense. Really held my attention right to the end."

Thanks Tom, much appreciated! I'm glad you felt the suspense held your attention. Since there was not much action, I really needed that to move the story forward. The basic idea was, of course, a select few from some overpopulated place would get solitary confinement either as a reward or punishment or both. We usually feel that solitary confinement is a cruel punishment whereas here I wanted it to be a reward or an escape/oasis from the masses.

Sorry, will vote momentarily!

Ivory Tower Isolation

Leytek stared distractedly out the windows of his apartment and watched as the rain flowed down in ever changing rivulets upon the glass. Perched atop a gleaming white tower bathed in self-illumination lights, he contemplated the entire curve of the archipelago upon which the massive tripod stood. From his vantage point, it appeared to stretch in an arc that hooked left, almost to the horizon, with sandy beaches on the leeward side and a jumble of water-beaten rock and driftwood on the other. In between the two coastlines, a verdant forest of gently waving palm trees and other tropical varieties prospered without any artificial encouragement or outside interference, as did the local wildlife.

There was not another living soul in sight, no network to surf, no media to consume other than his studies, for which this outside observation was but a brief respite. Other than for a stroll outside to take some air or a dip in the warm waters surrounding the archipelago, there was no place to go and no reason to leave the luxurious confines of this isolated bastion of tranquility. Yet Leytek was uneasy. Something gnawed at the edges of his mind, a fleeting thought he could not capture, an idea that resisted coming to fruition. Blocked, dammed, or locked away, he did not know, but the feelings of uneasiness grew with each passing day.

Leytek sighed and returned to his studies – a study of the theoretical quantum physics required for the successful transport of organic material through a matter – anti-matter device. Although non-organic materials had been successfully teleported over short distances at the New Athens Institute of Science, organic matter was too unpredictable for even their most advanced quantum computers to handle. There was simply too much movement at the molecular level to ensure a complete and safe reconstruction after the organic matter dematerialized. A flash of lightning once again drew his attention outside to darkening clouds and water running down the glass in random patterns.

Another thought pressed to the front of his mind, a feeling of being overwhelmed, too much, too many! Hemmed in before and behind. Crushed! He was being suffocated and it made him gasp for breath despite the absence of everything and everyone. Leytek staggered up from the couch where he was sitting. Air! He needed air! Falling forward, he crawled to the sundeck, dragging himself along. The doors opened automatically and the sweet fragrance of the trees below mixed with rain flooded in. In short order he was drenched to the bone. His clothes clung to him soddenly but the water was warm as was the breeze. He rolled over onto his back with his arms outstretched, not touching anything, and let the rain caress his face. There was space here, space to think, space to be alone. Alone. The panic soon left him and the constriction in his chest relented. He inhaled a deep cleansing breath, stood up, and headed back inside for a change of clothes.

Dry and in his right mind once again, Leytek applied his considerable cerebral talents to the problem at hand. Undisturbed and immersed in his work, a solution finally began to take shape. Random patterns! That was the key! As evening drew its dark shroud around the gleaming tower, he ignored the hunger pangs that sought to claw him away from his work. The answer was so close! It was only then that he noticed a small light panel on the wall switch from green to yellow. He did not understand why, but it filled him with a sense of dread and urgency. Faster! I must work faster! In some way he felt that time was running out and the sense of oppressive closeness crept back into his chest. Finally hunger and thirst forced him to briefly stop, but only for the barest of meals with a side of stims. More simulations were run, adjustments made and refinements added. It was within his grasp! The light panel switched from yellow to red, driving him onwards to the final solution for organic matter teleportation. And then, in an instant, in a final flourish of inspiration, Leytek keyed in the last program characters and hit RUN. The simulation showed green across the board with no cellular decay, degradation or deformation.

Instantly the main doors from the tower lift opened and two helmeted guards strode in, grabbed Leytek and dragged him screaming from the apartment. “Solitary confinement is up! Back to the swarming hordes you go!”

(750 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2024
Reviews/critiques welcome

Congrats Jot!!!