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

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

Paula wrote: "Cool story, Chris. Beautifully paced and flows extremely well/smoothly, and we get a sense of the ambassador's sense of enormous loss and devastation; you've given him a very *real* feeling. By com..."

Thanks so much Paula! I really appreciate your input. I know my story this month was a little more MGish, but I seem to be comfortable with that particular sci-fi audience. And I would have loved to round out the main character more, but for that pesky word count. Se la vie. ;)

Special Delivery


“Weatherby,” the deep voice reverberated over the speaker.

“That’s me!” Abigail pushed her way through the alien crowd, a hulking Veezlix meeting her at the counter.

“You must be a trainee,” he remarked, running his fingers along a broken tusk. “Where ya’ from, kid?”

“Earth!” she replied proudly, her confidence unshakeable.

“Never heard of it.” He lurched around toward the conveyor, picking her package from the waiting basket.

“Because we’re new,” Abigail beamed. “Only 6 months in the Union.”

“Great,” the Veezlix snorted, setting it upon the counter, wrapped in brown paper and twine. “Immediate delivery to the Embassy Spire. Got your docs? You know the protocol?”

“Yup. Fastest route, hand delivery, to the addressee only,” Abigail confirmed. Then, tucking the package away, she saluted and took off in a run.

“And don’t drop it!” The Veezlix rolled his eyes. “Rookies.”

Abigail hit the platforms at the top of the tower, facing the fantastic sights and sounds of the sprawling metropolis – Artem-Suul, Capital of the Galactic Union. Goggles snuggly in place, she bolted right for the edge, leaping over the side.

Her rocket pack engaged in freefall and Abigail blasted away, soaring into the city. She loved the thrill of the flight, the suns on her face and wind in her hair, but a sudden alert brought her to an unfortunate stop at an otherwise invisible barrier only her lenses could see.

“Code clearance?” a voice announced in her communicator and Abigail tapped her goggles. “Confirmed. Welcome to the Embassy Spire.”

Launching through the breach into the compound, she set down gently within a beautiful, pristine courtyard, her gaze drifting skyward to the shimmering golden tower, its tip lost in the clouds. “Wow.”

She was greeted in the lobby by a waiting automaton. “May I help you?” it asked.

“I have a package for…” she pulled the box from her pouch, squinting at the alien letters. “…Rokuun.”

“Ozeron Ambassador Rokuun. Floor 312. Though he’s not exactly in a mood for visitors.”

“Good to know. Thanks!”

Abigail stepped from the lift into an empty hall lined with beautiful paintings spaced by finely carved statues. There even stood a priceless suit of armor, if such a thing could be carved from flowing water. At the end, she stopped before a pair of lofty polished doors and simply knocked.

There was a crash, followed by, “Is someone there? What is it?”

“Delivery, sir,” Abigail said.

“Yes, yes. Enter.”

Inside, the Ozeron Ambassador was ashen, slumped into a couch and gazing at the skyline. “Just leave it and go.”

“Sir?”

“With the rest of them, those empty condolences.” He motioned to a corner stacked with bouquets from around the galaxy.

“Um, I don’t think…”

“And that’s why you only deliver packages,” he quipped.

“Sorry,” she brushed off the insult, “this requires your imprint.”

“Fine,” Rokuun pushed himself up, stout legs adapting. Sadly disheveled, it was as if he’d not slept for days.

“Are you okay?”

“Good question.” He’d been drinking heavily. “How would you feel if your entire civilization was completely obliterated?” He stumbled forward, still holding his glass.

“Just press here,” she instructed, pointing to a small icon on top.
Immediately, the package shuddered, drifting out of Abigail’s hands toward Rokuun and transforming into a polished crystal sphere.

“Is this some kind of trick?” he stammered.

An image materialized before them, a figure not unlike the Ambassador. “Greetings Rokuun,” it said. “I hope this package finds you well.”

He dropped his glass.

“Encoded within this orb is the complete legacy of Ozeron, our history and culture, along with the genetic profiles for over one million of us, our memories and personality algorithms likewise encoded.”

“Impossible,” the Ambassador gawked, suddenly sober.

“You are hereby directed, to proceed to the Gensynth facility on Artem-Suul to oversee our immediate reconstitution. Alas, there is still hope.” Then, the image disappeared.

“What…what does it mean?” Abigail asked.

“It means I have a new message for you to deliver!” He frantically pulled a credit stick from his desk. “Head to Gensynth right away! These creds should do. Tell them to prime their stacks and spare no expense! I’ll be there within the hour! Oh, and sorry about what I said before. Anyways, what’s your customary tip?”

“We’re not allowed to say. Whatever you feel it’s worth, I suppose,” she smiled.

“Done.” He didn’t even hesitate.

Twenty percent of the value of a civilization – it was largest tip she, or any other courier for that matter, had ever received.

Congrats Marianne! Great Story! :)

Andy wrote: "David and Danly, life’s meaning, and bats in a cabin wall by Paula
A bleak tale of growing isolation as successive SARS viruses emerge and strip us down, shattering dreams, giving the lie to the wi..."

Thanks Andy for your critique! I'm always grateful for any opportunity to have my work reviewed. It definitely helps! :)

Lost in Translation

A tempest erupted outside the long abandoned museum in the ghost-town called Chicago. Completely unexpected, it’d been ages since anything interesting had happened, so I bolted down the main staircase and out into the empty streets.

I’d spent days cataloging this location, for whatever reasons I really didn’t know. The rest of the planet, every soul, had been wiped away by an unstoppable pandemic. I was alone. At least the work gave me purpose, and I was hopeful that mankind’s most beautiful achievements would be preserved forever digitally, immortal to the ravages of time.

Outside, a thunderous rumble came from the park along the lake, and I raced to meet it, stopping immediately at a sight I couldn’t believe – a slender rocket standing on end, like a fifties spaceship from an old Twilight Zone episode. The rolling winds fading, a ramp descend and I retreated to cover in the nearby brush.

Two figures emerged, silhouetted by the retreating haze. Taller and more slender than any man I recalled, their movements were too gracile, almost elegant. “Where is it?” a voice suddenly asked in my mind. Words. It had been so long.

“Him,” another voice corrected. “This is a binary species – a male in this case, I think. The correct pronoun is him.”

“Of course…I keep forgetting.” Large obsidian eyes surveyed an unfamiliar landscape and each held a small device which scanned their surroundings. “Human, are you there?” the first of them asked, only not aloud, and I dared not respond.

“Over here,” the second said and headed directly toward me.

My heart raced and my hands trembled. I hoped to escape, so I bolted away in a desperate run, only to instantly freeze in place.

“Ah, there you are,” the first said. “You see, I told you they were here.” Trapped within an invisible force, I was helplessly drawn closer to them. “An interesting specimen, though the tension in its muscles…”

“HIS muscles,” the other corrected.

“Right, HIS muscles. And the elevated neuroendocrine levels?”

“Fear, maybe?”

“Perhaps,” the first agreed. “Our scientists said that might happen.” It leaned in. “Do not fear us, human. We are here to help. If I release you, will you promise not to scamper away?”

I nodded.

“Excellent.”

“What…what do you want here?” I asked.

“Why, we’ve come from the Great Galactic Quorum.”

“He won’t know what that means,” the second quipped.

“Oh, sorry. We are messengers from the civilized worlds in this galaxy. You received our invitation, though never responded. The message was clearly dispersed 3.25 solar cycles ago.” Of course, I hadn’t a clue and shook my head. So, it turned to its companion, irritated, “I don’t think they got it.”

Then, a revelation hit me. “Wait, three years ago?”

“Our probe confirmed touch-down, its message dispersed into the atmosphere.”

“Dispersed?”

“Brilliant biotechnology really – a genetically programmed micromessenger, designed specifically for humans, to spread throughout your body and then to others, rewriting your genetic code so we can better understand each other.” It tapped its forehead. “That is how your mind hears me. In fact, you can now survive in thirteen non-Earth environments without any need for a containment suit. Anyways, I’m sure for you it’s quite amazing!”

“Three years ago?!”

“We bring a new age of enlightenment for mankind, our technology and the wonders of the universe! Now, where are the rest of your people? Let us meet them!”

My chuckled became a boisterous, desperate laugh. “You killed them! You killed them all!”

“Killed?” the second asked. “What is ‘killed?’”

“It means ‘cease to exist,’” the first explained, now concerned. “How?”

“A horrible plague.” The images were fresh in my mind. “Bleeding from the eyes. Tissues liquefied as people slowly melted over a period of weeks. Their brains were the last, so they were aware. Human immunity…”

“Immunity?”

“The human body fights against infection.”

“Impossible!” it scoffed. “The messenger was programmed with its own protocols to ensure delivery against any defense.”

“And it destroyed them.”

Both were clearly appalled, “And you?”

“I’m from Praxia-19, outside the Quorum, in the Outlands. It took me seven plastisurgeries to pass for human,” I sighed. “And I really thought I’d picked the perfect place to retire.” A storm welled inside me. “Now, go back to those fools and tell them they’ve destroyed this civilization!”

“Oh, dear, not another one,” the first lamented and motioned the second to follow. “It really is becoming a bore to be the bearer of bad news again.”

Tom wrote: ""Betrayal" by Chris

A ravishing and bloody tale of Romanesque palace intrigue set in a matriarchal galactic empire.

The covert political struggle between an empress and a baroness of equal ambiti..."

Thanks for your review, Tom! I really appreciate your comments!

And hopefully I got the right person this time! - lol ;)

So, here it goes again -lol. Thanks, Andy for taking time to critique our work. I really appreciate your comments!

Whoops. I did. Your name came up in the remark Tom and I instinctively typed it. Sorry, Andy.

Andy wrote: "Here are some comments on a first group of stories.

INVASION by Tom Olbert
There’s a lot happening in this story – I really like the premise and the glimpses of the competing worlds, but I think y..."

Tom, thanks so much for your review. I really appreciate your comments!

Justin wrote: "I have adopted C's story review rating scale. My intent is not to offend or hurt, but simply give feedback and my opinions.


1-5 Hypernova stars:
(1=disappointed. 2=Meh. 3=OK. 4=Nice! 5=LOVED IT!)..."

Justin! Thanks so much for you review. Definitely some good suggestions!

Jot wrote: "My attempt at criques...not good at this.


Invasion by Tom Olbert

A nuclear blast destroys a domed, undersea city. The city that was the home of our female hero who commands more than just a subm..."


Jot, thanks so much for taking the time to critique our work. It's always appreciated.

Justin wrote: "Chris! This is a story worthy of the Dune universe!!!! It felt rich, deep and malevolently elegant. Nicely done and welcome back!!"

Justin and C. thanks so much. I'm happy that's the vibe you got, because it's sort of what I was going for. I'm definitely no Frank Herbert, but I'm glad you liked it!

Tom wrote: "Welcome back, Chris. I've missed you. This one was definitely one of your very best. Potent, stark and beautiful."

Thanks Tom, I really appreciate it. Hopefully, things have calmed down a bit now.

Thanks, Jot! It's been an overwhelming three months! And it's good to have a little time to scratch something out - lol.

Betrayal

Her elegant pearlescent robes were silhouetted against the most brilliant spectacle in the realm – the paired emerald suns of Paragon, flanked by a band of glistening starlight, the galaxy set on edge. “You’re late,” Empress Victoria Ortensia XIV quipped with her back to her imperial concubine as he silently entered her study.

“Apologies. Unavoidable delays, Highness,” Cadmus responded, head low, so as not look her in the eye. For five millennia, the punishment was death for such an offense, even for him – the gaze of the Empress of the Known Systems regarded as beyond the witness of lowly men.

“Unavoidable?” Victoria doubted, her eyes narrowing. She strolled coolly to him, her lofty gaze evaluating his every subtlety. He was calm, and seemed without deception, though she knew better. She could see past his imperial conditioning. A bite of the lip, a quick doubtful glance in her direction gave him away. “So, the plan is underway?”

“Success is certain, Empress,” he answered.

“And you were able to gain their trust?”

“Assuredly. The Baroness’s own consort apparently has an insatiable fondness for other men. He was easily swayed. Our move…”

“My move!” she corrected. “It’s time we brought this despicable insurgency to an end! The Systems will witness my resolve when Tellandor’s Baroness is dead, the traitor…Caressa slain by my hand, and the fire of a thousand Ortensian warships!"

She paced around him, gentling her tone. “Now, there is the matter of your infidelity to me," a hint of ire lightly breaching her otherwise regal calm. “What shall we do with you?”

“Highness?” he asked, suddenly nervous.

“Do you think me such a fool that your betrayal would escape me?” Suddenly, her irritation peaked. “I have my own spies in Tellandor’s Court!” She took him by the chin and stared squarely into his eyes. “They say you bedded with that treacherous whore!”

“A means to an end, Your Majesty!” he trembled. She released him and he cowered away.

“You did your Empire a service, though you betrayed me!” she scolded, when a chime from the corridor interrupted them. “Enter!”

The tall, paired doors parted and a hovering cart drifted in, draped in purple and guided by a single robotic attendant. “Ah, did you bring something for me, Cadmus?” Victoria wondered, running the cloth through her fingers. She smiled. It was the flag of Tellandor. “Ah, the spoils of victory, perhaps? Service to the Empire, indeed,” she approved. “The body of the Baroness?”

Victoria withdrew the cover and suddenly recoiled. Before her, a half-dozen heads stared lifelessly back – her spies from the High Court of Tellandor. The Empress turned sickeningly to her courtesan. “What is this? You said success was assured!”

“It is!” He declared, plunging his hidden blade in, a synthetic polymer, undetectable by the security scans.

The color faded immediately from Victoria’s face and she fell away, bleeding out on the floor.

Baroness Caressa Salazar, strolled confidently in, an elegant florid cape drifting behind her, followed closely by her own concubine. Behind them were a dozen Telladorian soldiers. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Victoria…”

“Empress, to you, whore!” she spat up blood.

“Empress, then,” the Baroness mocked a bow with a guilty smirk. Then, with a firm grip, Caressa took ahold of the knife and twisted it deeper. Victoria writhed in pain. “Perhaps you’re not as clever as you thought.” She looked to Cadmus and smiled fondly. “And perhaps you should not take your men for granted. This one is a marvel of pleasure. Thoren and I have never experienced such ecstasy.”

Defeated and gripped in agony, the life of Empress Victoria Arcturis Ellurim Ortensia XIV faded away.

Caressa withdrew the blade, studying its simplistic design, dripping with blood. She handed it to her consort. “Thoren, would you do something with this, my love?”

“For the Empire,” he agreed, then thrust the blade into Cadmus. “The Empress of the Known Systems is dead. Long live the Empress.”

Dropped to his knees and oozing blood, Cadmus managed a single word, “Why?”

“Because there can be no traitors in my Empire,” Caressa answered plainly.

Consciousness fading, his dumbfounded gaze shifted to Thoren, before dropping over dead.

“The traitor betrayed,” she approved. “At least your loyalty to me is beyond reproach.”

Thoren immediately lowered his eyes. “Empress…”

“Please,” she interrupted, raising his chin to gaze into his eyes, before kissing him on the lips with deep affection. “Come now, my brother, let us restore civility to this dreadful Empire.”

C. wrote: "Chris,

There once was a writer who took stock
of his current month's severe writer's block.
His priorities askew
he asked forgiveness from few
but then found a story in his red Santa sock.

Merry ..."



Lol. Oh, I've got ideas. It's just that this is probably the first time I've sat at a computer for any length of time in about 3 weeks. Even so, gotta run again.

Merry Christmas everyone! :)

I don't think I'm going to make the deadline this month. Just so many things going on with end of the year and the holidays. Oh well...

Congratulations, Greg! Great story!

Tom wrote: "“Rejection” by Justin Sewall

An eloquent science fictional allegory of the life of Jesus Christ. The story follows the journey of an incorporeal alien being who assumes the ordeal of human form in..."

Tom, thanks for taking the time to critique our stories this month. Your input is always very valuable! :)

Checking In

You could spot him coming from six blocks away - unintentionally awkward and perfectly terrified. As Earth’s only official Observer, I was his assignment, and he probably drew the short straw. Most of the Quoria couldn’t stand it here, and couldn’t understand why I so willingly stayed.

Sure, I got their message, relaying my exact contact location in the park - “wearing sunglasses and feeding the pigeons.” It was a beautiful San Francisco day, the air crisp, and the aromas from Chinatown almost intoxicating.

The usual Envoys they sent were all pretty jumpy, and this new guy was no different. Same plain gray suit, perfectly pressed, he anxiously glanced back and forth on his way, absolutely ready to leap for dear life at any time. Unfortunately, a group of college kids crossed his path, laughing and celebrating. “Oh, this should be good,” I mused to myself. Horrified, my contact quickly dove into a nearby alleyway, only poking his head out again after he was sure the coast was absolutely clear. Ridiculous.

Easing into the park, his gaze suspiciously scanned every child, vagrant, and stray cat. Even a group of Tai Chi grannies got the dreadful look. I tried not to snicker, just staring casually from behind tinted lenses.

Finally, he found me.

Approaching the edge of my collected flock, birds suddenly scattered and he shrieked, pulling away, horrified with clenched eyes.

“It’s okay bro,” I consoled. “It’s safe.” He opened one reluctant eye, then the other. “You guys are something else.” I peered over the rims of my sunglasses. “First time on Earth?”

“Is it obvious?” he winced and I nodded. “You’re Watcher Budrin?”

“Buddy,” I corrected. “Only my old Hatcher calls me Budrin.”

“Buddy, then.” He smoothed down the edges of his suit. “You’re overdue for your report. They sent me…”

“Has it been a year already?” I interrupted.

“It has.”

“No shit?” I shrugged, moving my glasses up into my unkept hair.

He didn’t answer, confused.

“Sorry…local aphorism,” I explained. “So, you’re here to check in on me.”

“Indeed.” He suddenly flinched as a squirrel scampered by.

“Nervous one, aren’t you?”

“Well, the last Envoy reported that his mouth was set on fire. He said he nearly died.”

I burst out laughing. “Kung Pao Chicken! A bit spicy, but better than those damn nutrient pellets.”

“Spicy?” He didn’t understand. “Pellets provide the nourishment we need.”

“So Bland.”

“Bland?”

“Dull,” I clarified, but he didn’t understand. “Dreary? Uninteresting?” Still, he had no clue. “So…you! All of you!” I rose and placed my hand upon his shoulder. “Dude, there’s a whole universe outside the drab gray walls and manufactured boredom of the Quorum.” I inhaled deeply. “I love it here. This place changes you. And our people need more of it. Let me show you,” I said, and we disappeared.

The soft ocean breezes in Maui suddenly met us. I picked a nearby mango and he backed away when I pulled a pocket-knife to shave some away. “Try it.”

Doubtfully, he took the piece from my hand, studying it like research project.

“You’re supposed to eat it.”

A hesitant bite, then he eagerly consumed the rest.

“You see?”

“What…what is this?” he grinned a mumbling mouthful.

“Potential, my man. Want to try some more?”

He nodded and we disappeared again, reappearing atop Monte Rosa in Switzerland. The wind and snow bit deeply, and my companion instantly flinched away. “Exhilarating, isn’t it?” I winked, and we quickly vanished again.

Around the globe we flashed, in and out. From the Egyptian pyramids to the Kalahari plains, Victoria Falls to the Grand Canyon. We sampled exotic landscapes, the finest human art and music. Finally, we returned to the little park in San Francisco. “Well?”

“It’s...it’s”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘amazing.’”

He nodded, then remembered “But their propensity for bloodshed? This is a dangerous assignment. They kill their own,” he whispered, like I didn’t know.

“Bingo. A paradoxical race – a balance of ultimate compassion and terror. Absolutely fascinating. Still, their potential for beauty is unmatched in the universe.”

“So, that’s why you stay,” he realized.

“You understand.”

He nodded.

I dropped my sunglasses back over my eyes and smiled, reclining back into my bench. “Then, maybe there’s hope for you. I’m sure these Earthers will outgrow even us. You’re one of the few to really get that.”

“So, should I report back that all is well?”

“Everything’s great. Hey, you wanna grab some Chinese?”