Chris’s Comments (group member since Nov 04, 2015)

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

Hey Richard! Welcome to our group! :)

I prefer sincerity anyways! Thanks again!

C and Tom, thanks so much for the critique. I really appreciate your input. I particularly found it helpful that you each reached a similar conclusion regarding the style of my piece.

C, I may have to clarify my story in that he survived the whole ordeal absolutely intact, body and all. I was trying to convey the fact that he couldn't be destroyed, no matter what. So, he was only a 'relative' speck in the universe and his body survived intact. I suppose the ending could be a bit confusing in that regard, though.

Admittedly, the 750 word count is always something I struggle with. Usually, by the time I finish a story, its around 1,000 words and I spend more time editing it down than I did writing it. I generally struggle with maintaining the integrity of the story during the process, saying what I'd like to say, while still adhering to the guidelines. Even so, that's part of the challenge. That being said, I truly appreciate your thorough review, compliments and gentle criticisms. It helps me grow a great deal as a writer.

:)

Waiting for Death

My green tea latte was hot, just the way I liked it, and I suppose it was ironic to favor a hot beverage considering the scorching storm just outside.

The polarization was set to maximum as I opened the shutters, secure in my bunker and away from the elements. If I hadn’t known any better, it could have been any other day but for one notable exception. I mean, it was just as barren and desolate but I’d crunched the numbers, had run every algorithm possible. I was the last human alive and this was the end of the world.

Immortality’s a cruel bitch. I’d lived long enough to know that for certain and thankfully logged the final day in Earth’s history as Friday, August 13th, year 6,980,156,453,298. That was Anno Domini of course and didn’t include the 4.6 billion years prior to year zero. Anyways, I was ready. It’d been too long.

‘Knock-knock-knock.’ There was a tapping from the environmental hatchway.

“What the hell was that?” The wind was roaring so I gave it little thought and returned to my tea, patiently waiting. Before the day ended, the sun would surely go supernova and finally consume the Earth, giving me the rest I’d so longed for.

‘Knock-knock-knock,’ I heard again.

“Strange.” I set my cup on the table and strolled over to the transom. Just outside the airlock, blasted by dust and debris, stood an ominous figure, black robes fluttering in the gale. Was this it? Was death literally knocking on my door?

I hit the button for the outer hatchway and the figure entered. Temperature and air pressures equalized, then the inner hatch slid open and I stepped apprehensively back as a cloaked head stooped to clear the entrance.

Standing seven feet tall at the least, my new visitor’s face was shadowed deeply and his robes extended to the floor. There were no eyes I could discern. “Have…have you finally come for me?” My apprehension was mixed with anticipation.

“I have.” His reply was deep and throaty.

Thank God. “I’m ready.”

“Where are the rest of your people?” A peculiar question.

“Well, you should know.”

“I’ve seen the signs of your great cities, vast civilizations. Are you all that remains?”

Another unexpected observation. “I…I am. They’ve been dead for millions of years. You’re the first, um, thing I’ve spoken to in millennia.”

“Why are you still here?”

“I don’t have a goddam clue. It seems like eternity, the lives I’ve lived. Hunter, pharaoh, blacksmith, President, High Inquisitor, Vestech. Time provides enough wealth to ensure a comfortable life, though I’ve experienced nearly every form of trauma…shot, stabbed, dismembered, drowned. Each time, I heal. Parts grow back. I survive. I’ve read every book, witnessed every performance, visited every VR. I’ve watched the rise and fall of great societies and empires, seen mankind’s failure in trying to leave this solar system…watched them all die. Listen, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, are you here to take me or not?”

“Yes.”

I sighed. “Death…finally. Will it hurt?”

“Death? You misunderstand.” He removed the cowl to reveal a slender alien in a black environmental suit. “We’ve come to save you and have a ship not far from here. It was quite by chance we detected your life-signs at all.”

“No, no, no, no,” I rejected in disbelief.

“Come, we have but few hours left.”

“I’m not going anywhere! I’ve been waiting my whole goddam life for this moment, an end to the endless time. I plan to be here. I plan to finally die.”

“Truly?” the alien marveled. “You want this?”

“It’s all I have. What good is all the wealth and knowledge in the world when the people you care for, the people you love, become just a flicker in time?”

“But I offer you hope.”

“Bullshit. You offer me more of the same…more eternity. No thanks.”

“Please, if I step out this hatchway without you, we’ll not return.”

“Got it. Now get out.”

“As you wish.” The alien returned his cowl. “I hope you find whatever peace you’re seeking.” The hatch sealed and I returned to my tea.

That was forever ago…and I’m still alive. Of course, the earth was destroyed and I was sucked into the black hole left in the sun’s place. I have no idea where I am now…just a random bit a detritus, the most insignificant speck floating through infinity. That I’m talking to myself must mean I’ve gone mad. I’m so cold.


748 words

Way to go, Jot! Great story! :)

Justin, thanks for your critique. I appreciate your input and definitely found it helpful. I suppose my story does share a certain recurring theme. Anyways, thanks again! :)

Like I said Tom, you definitely have a knack for writing a great critique. Very detailed and constructive. Thanks! :)

No Peace Without Order


“I walk the path of tranquility. There is no peace without out order, no harmony without balance.”

It had been twenty one days since the Velcrux Coalition dropped from space and ripped into our planet. History told them we wouldn’t fight, that we were pacifists.

Founded by just a few Wardens millennia ago, we’d maintained a protected sanctuary, an oasis of neutrality in a galaxy ceaselessly on the verge of war. Across the eons, conflicts had come and gone, always with the same theme: those on a quest for power against the few who dared resist. Still, for every war, we successfully remained nonaligned, the trusted final arbiter in the negotiations for armistice. While it often took centuries, the struggle for freedom had always prevailed. Good had always triumphed over evil in the end.

This new war was different, however. Absent any honor and placing no value on life, the Velcrux decimated the galaxy. They cared nothing for power and I suppose in that singular way we were ironically alike. But while we looked for the harmony in all things, they saw only disorder, were interested only in destruction and chaos…complete anarchy. Mercilessly, their kind spread throughout space like a plague, razing whole planets before anyone could oppose them. So through the culling of worlds, we became the final bastion of civilization.

Our shields failed and the door to our monastery groaned with each impact, the desperate assault to breach our compound. A final shudder and the barricaded imploded, showering us with debris. Through the smoky haze, a solitary figure stepped proudly in, clad in heavy Technophile armor. He peered down at us with disgust, spitting his tobacco. “You’re the last,” the man sneered.

“We know,” I replied calmly.

“Every civilization from the core to the rim has fallen and what has their order gotten them? What have they gained from their treaties? Destruction!”

“So, what will you do when we’re gone?”

“Ha! That’s when the real fun begins! I’ll turn the guns on my own men. Hopefully, they’ll put up more of a fight than the rest of you pathetic commoners.” He grit his teeth.

“Then this is where your story comes to an end.”

“This is where my story begins!” he corrected.

“With no one left to tell it.”

The man mocked a bow. “I only mean to fulfill the will of the universe, a reality plagued with entropy. No certainty, only chaos. Our Coalition feeds the natural order.”

“Fool,” I defied. “The universe isn’t chaotic at all. It’s governed by physical laws with mathematical precision. Planets orbit suns in a predictable fashion. Gravity attracts in a measurable way. The universe works like a finely tuned ancient watch.”

“Yet worlds all around the galaxy are burning! Did you predict that?”

“Yes. Though you’ve succeeded more than most, there are always men like you.”

He took me by the throat, hoisting me into the air before slamming me down. “And I suppose you predicted that too?”

“Naturally,” I managed and his fury was unmistakable. He pulled his fiber-blade and hefted it high, then tightened up immediately, his eyes wide in surprise. I pulled my own dagger from his flank and he staggered back. “That’s the problem with chaos...unpredictability.”

“But you’re a pacifist!” His blood streamed onto the tile.

“Are we? You’ve mistaken our serenity for weakness. True, we walk the path of tranquility. There is no peace without out order, no harmony without balance. But order is a vital law.”

“Hahaha!” He coughed up blood and fell to one knee. “You’ll never defeat the chaos!”

I stood over him now. “We’ve been the arbiters for countless wars over millennia, have overseen hundreds of treaties, always ensuring the conceding force surrender their arms. Of course, they turn them over to us, a neutral faction. So, you can imagine we’ve stockpiled quite an armory…enough to easily decimate your fleet, and your chaos has given us time to prepare.”

“What could a handful of you possibly do?”

“Restore order, of course. You see, this entire planet is a warehouse, filled to the brim with singularity cannons, starcruisers, and a massive dormant cybernetic army. We’ve waited until the bitter end to use them. Even as the galaxy died, we patiently hoped for fate to intervene. Sadly, it seems fate has left the future to us. In the end, there will be harmony.” I turned to one of my brothers who’d activated our offensive systems. “Destroy them.”


744 words

Nicely done, Tom! :)

Tom, thanks so much for your critique. I'm glad you enjoyed my story! :) You definitely have a knack for well written critiques (a talent for which I'm sadly inept) and I truly appreciate your feedback.

The Vintage Streamer

“Are you kidding? That thing’s an antique!” Thomas had his doubts. After all, his aged swift-freighter had seen better days and it was nearly a decade since he retired. Then again, his daughter was just too much like him; a chip off the old block, they used to say. “You’ll never make it,” he discouraged.

“C’mon Dad, you know I’m the best bush pilot around.” That much was true. Ava pulled the tarp from the old vessel, only it didn’t look so old anymore. Polished aluminum glistened in the sun. The mag-lifters were tightly aligned and it hummed sweetly, hovering effortlessly above the deck plating.

Wide-eyed, Thomas ran nostalgic fingers along the cold aluminum, past the riveted patchwork hull, toward its newly painted, brilliant medallion. “What’d you do to it?”

“Fixed it, of course!” she declared proudly.

“The Vintage Streamer?” he noted its new designation with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup!” Ava beamed.

“Wait! Is that my particle scrubber?”

“Maybe.” The girl grinned guiltily and climbed into the open cockpit.

She was certainly tenacious and her mind was set. “You’re gonna to need a sponsor, you know.” He tossed her helmet up.

Ava snapped the chin strap in place. “I’ve already got one.”

“So, what’s your first run?”

A finger on the ignition and the lifters surged to life. “Medical supplies!” she shouted over the drone of grav particles streaming past the deck-plating. “They’re running low in New-New York! A pack of canyon trolls overwhelmed the Barrier and were almost thirty miles in before the mechs drove them back!”

Life was so much easier in the history books. No dragons. No trolls. But the price of science changed the world, and who knew if it was for the better. “They never should have opened that damned rift,” Thomas anxiously lamented to himself.

“What?!” Ava couldn’t hear him.

“Nothing! Listen, Old Chicago is crawling with goblins nowadays, so stay above ten thousand feet! And watch for dragons! They’re in rut this season and will take out anything within twenty miles of the Burning Mountain! Just be sure to stay clear of No-man’s Land, whatever you do! Got it?”

“Got it!”

“I love you! Stay safe!” His heart welled up with envy and dread for his daughter’s first run.

“I love you too, Daddy!” she replied then tugged the stick away. The Vintage Streamer dropped over the edge into the canyon before righting itself and soaring at full speed through the distant narrow gorge leading to the wilds. Ava disappeared into the mist that morning, the chum-chum-chum of the engines fading away.

Thomas just stared at the fog as it flowed over the canyon’s edge, his memories drifting back to his first courier assignment. Ironically, he was about her age and so full of confidence…so assured. It was so exhilarating! But that was thirty years ago and not without peril. He recalled soaring over churning seas of goblins on the march, countless boulders flung at him from far off mountain giants, and gremlins almost tearing his old machine apart mid-flight. And then there was No-man’s Land, where atomics had leveled the earth, rendering most of the old tech useless. The residual radiation still scrambled long distance radio communications worldwide. He regretted every time he’d almost died, then panicked remembering friends that actually did. “Ava!” he called out in vain but knew it was too late.


**********

“She should’ve been back by now,” Thomas worried. It’d been four days…four frustrating days since he watched his daughter drop over the edge and sore away. All the while, he couldn’t focus on his work, spending more time wringing his hands or simply staring into space. Any hope for distraction by working on an old Crimson Zephyr was definitely lost and he’d unfortunately missed his customer’s deadline. His mind was racing when he powered up the old landline. “Jacob, come back?”

“I’m here Tommy-boy! Checkin’ in again?”

“Have you heard anything else?”

“Ha! Not in the last hour, boyo! The city’s been on lockdown, after all. Those goblins don’t give up easily. But I’m sure you know that. I mean, how many deliveries where you actually on time for, old man?” Jacob had a point. “Anyways, I’m sure she’s fine.”

Thomas sighed and tapped the receiver to his forehead in frustration. “She’s two days overdue. I hope so.”

Then he heard it and dropped the receiver right away. His heart soared. It was still faint but unmistakable: the gratifying chum-chum-chum.


744 words

The new topic is up! Have fun! :)

** CRITIQUES ONLY **
______________________________
*Theme Requirements for the January 2017 contest:

The theme for this month is Genre Blending:

Write a story that incorporates BOTH Science Fiction AND Fantasy elements.

Your story can be more Fantasy or more Sci-Fi but must have elements of BOTH in some form.

Other requirements:

An antique or heirloom of some sort, critical to the resolution of the story.

That's it. Have fun!

** COMMENTS ONLY **
______________________________
*Theme Requirements for the January 2017 contest:

The theme for this month is Genre Blending:

Write a story that incorporates BOTH Science Fiction AND Fantasy elements.

Your story can be more Fantasy or more Sci-Fi but must have elements of BOTH in some form.

Other requirements:

An antique or heirloom of some sort, critical to the resolution of the story.

That's it. Have fun!

** STORIES ONLY **
The theme for the month follows this note from the competition's Creator/Director, Jot Russell:

To help polish our skills and present a flavour of our art to other members in the group, I am continuing this friendly contest for those who would like to participate. There is no money involved, but there is also no telling what a little recognition and respect might generate. The rules are simple:

1) The story needs to be your own work and should be posted on the Good Reads Discussion board, which is a public group. You maintain responsibility and ownership of your work to do with as you please. You may withdraw your story at any time.

2) The stories must be 750 words or less.

3) The stories have to be science fiction, follow a specific theme and potentially include reference to items as requested by the prior month's contest winner. The theme for this month is posted below.

4) You have until midnight EST on the 22nd day of the month to post your story to the Good Reads Science Fiction Microstory Contest discussion. One story per author per month.

5) After, anyone from the LI Sci-Fi group or the GR Science Fiction Microstory Discussion group has until midnight EST of the 25th day of the month to cast a single private vote to Jot Russell () for a story other than their own. This vote will be made public once voting is closed. Voting is required. If you do not vote, your story will be disqualified from the contest. You don't need a qualifying story to cast a vote, but must offer the reason for your vote if you don’t have an entry.

6) To win, a story needs at least half of the votes, or be the only one left after excluding those with the fewest votes. Runoffs will be run each day until a winner is declared. Stories with vote totals that add up to at least half, discarding those with the fewest votes, will be carried forward to the next runoff election. Prior votes will be carried forward to support runoff stories. If you voted for a story that did not make it into the runoff, you need to vote again before midnight EST of that day. Only people who voted in the initial round may vote in the runoffs.

7) Please have all posts abide by the rules of Good Reads and the LI Sci-Fi group.

8) Professional comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated by any member in either group and should be posted to the separate thread that will be posted at the end of the month and all voting is complete to avoid any influence on the voting. Feel free to describe elements that you do and don't like, as these help us gain a better perspective of our potential readers. Remarks deemed inflammatory or derogatory will be flagged and/ or removed by the moderator.

9) The winner has THREE days after the start of the new month to make a copy of these rules and post a new contest thread using the theme/items of their choosing. Otherwise, the originator of the contest, Jot Russell, will post a new contest thread.
______________________________
*Theme Requirements for the January 2017 contest:

The theme for this month is Genre Blending:

Write a story that incorporates BOTH Science Fiction AND Fantasy elements.

Your story can be more Fantasy or more Sci-Fi but must have elements of BOTH in some form.

Other requirements:

An antique or heirloom of some sort, critical to the resolution of the story.

That's it. Have fun!

I was going to say the same, Jack! I've got a few ideas though, so I'll figure something out... :)

Ha! Heather, your link is hilarious! How they got that hat to stay on, though. :)

Way to go Jack! You were my first choice! A great story! And what are the odds of a tie? I agree with Heather and am happy and honored to share December! Thanks so much to everyone who enjoyed both our stories and I'm so glad you liked them. Lol. :D

Tom, thanks for taking the time to read my piece! I haven't seen the particular episode you refer to but there's a Twilight Zone marathon coming up in a week. I'll have to look for it! Lol. :)

Justin, thanks for your review. Funny how you can read through something a half dozen times and still miss the simplest of typos! I'm glad you got the Twilight Zone inference. I couldn't get the episode "To Serve Man" out of my head. Its one of my favorites! Thanks again! :)