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

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

Great feedback Tom. Thanks for taking the time to review my story.

I would like to know in your opinion, did it feel too cliché? The story within the story, or the grandfather as storyteller?

I did pace it a bit slower, but was it too plodding? I'm not sure how I would have sped it up.

Thanks again for your review!

I appreciate that Tom!

I was just realizing that this month marks my one year anniversary since joining the group.

I'd like to say to everyone what a pleasure it is reading your different styles and seeing the different ideas you come up with. No two are remotely alike, which is really a testament to the pool of creativity you've created here.

Good one Tom. The end gave me shivers!

Justin Sewall’s review of “Nuclear Spring” by Dean Hardage

Dean Hardage paints a bleak, post-apocalyptic future inhabited by survivor Will. Will remembers the days with his parents, before the war, then afterwards when winter came. As he goes about his daily routine, something nags at the corner of his mind but he cannot quite put his finger on it. After completing his supply run, he hears water dripping and finds a patch of ground uncovered by snow. Then he realizes he is sweating in his cold weather gear. Startled by his own shadow, he hears an alien sound – a bird chirping in a tree. The cold grasp of nuclear winter has begun to fail.

There are many things I like about this story. Although it is heavy on description/narration and not as much dialog, it is still from the protagonist’s point of view. I felt like I was watching Will’s story unfold through his webcam, if he’d had one. The world was vividly painted and my mental movie meshed several titles like “The Road,” “Postman,” and “Book of Eli” into a crisp image.

Because the story unrolled like a silent movie, it makes Will’s final exclamation that much more powerful. Hardage did not give us insight into Will’s thoughts, or have him make verbal asides to himself, but his backstory does fill in a few gaps for the reader. When the clouds finally do part and the sun fights its way through the dust and fallout, there is a sense of burgeoning joy beginning to grow much like the arrival of a long awaited and hoped for spring.

I felt this was a well-executed story that I enjoyed very much. Great work!

Thanks so much Paula, I sincerely appreciate it!

The targeting sensor is much like the red eye of the Terminator. It is a technological replacement of course for his biological eye, and it has a targeting system that is/was slaved to the laser pulse rifle mounted over the mantle. Whatever Ted looks at, the targeting sensor automatically locks on and tracks. It is a continual reminder of his combat experience.

I intimate that there was a war between Earth and some alien species, and this was their opening attack: a thirty-second wave of destruction similar to the Doolittle raid over Japan in April, 1942, during the 100th anniversary of that raid.

Timmy's severely premature silver hair is a result of genetic or environmental factors or both that afflicted the Earth as a consequence of that conflict.

Thank you again for your feedback!

Thirty seconds over Washington

Theodore Ayers reclined comfortably in his anti-gravity easy chair. A fire crackled happily in the massive stone hearth of his cabin. Eyes closed, he waited for the impact.

“Grandpa!”

“Ooof!” Tiny knees dug themselves into his paunch. Broken furniture syndrome he called it – his once muscular chest had fallen into his drawers.

“Timmy, be careful with Grandpa,” admonished his mother.

“You sure you’ll be okay Dad?”

“Will we be okay Captain T?” Timmy nodded affirmatively.

“Go on now sweetheart. You and Doug have a good time. Timmy and I will be fine.”

“Thanks Dad.”

The cabin’s front door hissed shut and the whine of his daughter’s hovercar had barely begun to fade when Timmy looked at him expectantly.

“Will you tell me the story again Grandpa?” asked Timmy, the picture of cherubic innocence in his light blue polyplast onesie.

“You bet I will Captain T,” and he tousled his grandson’s mane of silver hair. It was a reminder of how close things had been back in those early days.

“Well Timmy,” Ayers sighed contemplatively. “I was just a young man of 16 when it happened…”

***
April 18, 2042
Washington, D.C.

Ted Ayers dug his toe into the grass on the National Mall. His parents, both Air Force pilots, had dragged him here to watch this parade of ancient warplanes and he hated every minute of it.

“Son, this is an important anniversary,” his dad chided, eyes hidden behind his aviator glasses.

“What’s the big deal anyway,” Ted groused.

“Oh Teddy, don’t they teach you anything in history class anymore?” his mother lamented.

“Yeah Mom. Of course they do.”

“Well then…”

“And here they come!” His mother was interrupted by the announcer’s boisterous monologue, which in turn was drowned out by the throaty sound of thirty-two Wright “Twin Cyclone” radial engines.

Ted looked up to see the formation of sixteen, fully restored North American B-25 Mitchell medium bombers begin to make their pass over the massive crowd.

A cheer went up as the lead plane of the first four ship echelon waggled its wings.

Ted strained to hear the announcer’s narration, “…to celebrate the one-hundredth anniversary of the daring attack on Imperial Japan during the Second World War led by Colonel Jimmy Doolittle.”

The silver and olive drab Mitchell’s, some with D-Day invasion stripes, flew lazily across the D.C. skyline. This was in stark contrast to their original low level attacks at full speed in Japanese air space.

Ted watched the formation with a mixture of grudging respect and teenage malaise when suddenly he heard his parent’s wristcomms begin beeping frantically.

“Following the Doolittle memorial flight are examples of U.S. fighters from the Pacific Theater: Wildcat, Lightning, Hellcat and Corsair. Planes that helped the U.S. to win the Pacific war…”
Ted noticed his parents suddenly begin scanning the sky with worried looks.

“Mom….Dad….what’s up?”

“Hopefully nothing, but why don’t you start heading back to the car.”

“Why? But the show’s not over…”

Ted’s father removed his aviator glasses and looked intently into his son’s eyes.

“Ted, I need you to obey right NOW!”

Just as his father finished yelling, the first B-25 erupted in flames, followed by a second and third in rapid succession. The formation broke apart and the trailing warbirds began scattering as blurred disks of white light streaked overhead with an ear-splitting hum of alien propulsion.

Jagged bolts of blue energy streamed from the edges of the white disks, reducing the unarmed planes to cinders.

“Run Teddy!” screamed his mother as his father pushed him in the direction of the car, jamming the keys into his hands.

Another sound pierced the sky as four F-22 Raptors tried desperately to intercept the white disks, ripple firing air-to-air missiles in a vain attempt to engage the marauders.

Ted staggered a few steps and looked back at his parents. Blue energy tore a path across the earth, then they were gone.

***
Little Timmy interrupted quietly, “Is that how you got this Grandpa?”

Tiny fingers gently caressed the brushed titanium alloy comprising the left side of Theodore Ayers’ face. The targeting sensor in his gleaming red left eye locked onto his grandson. Ayers only sat quietly, but a tear ran down the opposite cheek. He took his grandson’s hand in his own.

“No Timmy,” he began, eyeing the laser pulse rifle over the mantle.

“That’s a different story… for another time.”

The little boy hugged his grandfather tightly and whispered in his good ear.

“Okay Grandpa, I love you.”


(749 words in story) Justin Sewall © 2017
Reviews/critiques welcome

Good story Chris! I was on the edge of my seat!

Well 1001011 10110101 101110101 1011011010 011010!!!

C,

Your reviews are as fun to read as your stories!

Oh the humanity!!!!!

Good story Dean!

C,

I'm rolling on the floor laughing!!

Insert rim-shot here...

Maybe they treated it with gamma rays...

Absolutely outstanding work Paula! Well done and congratulations!

Greg wrote: "Thanks for the comments, Paula. My beta readers thought it was a little too subtle, but I wanted to create some mystery to draw the reader in.

Just curious - did anyone get the Gilligan's Island ..."

I did catch the Gilligan's Island reference. Very clever!

Thanks for the feedback Paul, much appreciated!

Yes C, that is absolutely correct. But there was no fault, which then led to the possibility of a HAL 9000 computer making an error, which had never happened.

It was fun to slip that in. I was wondering if anyone would notice it, so, good job!!

Carrie,

You did a very good job showing how they were both selfish. That's why I tried to put my feelings on one side and give you a helpful review rather than just expound on my feelings. I think good stories should elicit an emotional response and you certainly did that!

Tom wrote: "Justin wrote: "Justin Sewall’s review of “The Dare” by Tom Olbert

Orbiting wealthy immortals stand on the backs of the impoverished mortal masses left to eke out a meager existence on Earth. Tom O..."

Very welcome Tom! It is absolutely a challenge every month for sure. What's a phone booth? LOL! Again, great story!