A bit of venting on next published event

This is not asking advice just venting a little.

Hmmm, I have one book at an editors-she is probably a bit over a quarter of the way through. So when she does finish it, maybe in three to five weeks I will still have to go back over it. Most probably will take me hours, if I don't have to rewrite anything major. I have done this before so I know that I mean hours and hours of work. I have a cover for it already. It has been sitting around for over a year while I looked for a cover artist and an editor that didn't charge tons of money. So now even though it is finally in the process I still have to wait. and wait some more.

Then I have a second novel that is in almost the same situation. Except no editor yet, and the cover is being worked on even though almost done. But it has sat the same length of time and it is longer so it will take longer and cost more to edit and then to go over. Add hours to the hours and hours. Oh yes, I still need to decide on how I want to the chapters. Just leave the 40 some shorter ones or combine them. I wrote the book as a serial on another site which is why the chapters are like they are. It does need a little revising since I changed my mind some something and even though I think I went over the whole thing a couple times I need double check that. So it might have to wait half a year more before I can publish it. It might be my best novel yet. Or so I had thought when I revised it. And I have to wait and wait and wait some more.

Used Books for sell

We just moved and along the way of packing and unpacking I decided to see about selling a few of the many books I have. A few because I have more than one copy.

Here are a few of them pictured. All are regular sized paperbacks and their price is $3 each plus shipping. Which isn't much for the media category, even though it takes a little time to get there. 

All are Science Fiction or Fantasy. "The Sweet Scent of Blood: is the first of a Urban Fantasy series with vampires and Fae mixing it up. The one with the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences is the first of a Steampunk series-lots of action, twists and fun for the reader. There is one SF and two fantasies.

I take paypal and first come first serve. LO1DOG@comcast.net

d.

A new SaturdayScenes post, for May Fourth And Star Wars Day

#saturdayscenes   May 4     May the Fourth be with you. 

I have no Star Wars tales, even though years ago I did write two fanfic Star Wars stories. Not sure what happened to them. One I had thought of changing so it would not be Star War like anymore. But I would have to start from scratch. 

However I do have a couple of stories that sort of fit. I thought about finding an old Space Opera story but these might be better. The first is about a device that might be a pre droid. The second tale is about a one man freighter operator who just might be like a young version of a major Star Wars character. 

Both stories together are 1,420 words. Shorter this week, what SaturdayScenes should be. 

Shortie here titled “The Cambot” and is based on a picture.

Lost Cambot

                       The small figure stood there on a cement bridge. It looked at the paper that had slid out of a slot on the bottom of its body above the one wheel there. 

       The paper didn’t help it. For it had somehow rolled out from the range of its programing. And it hadn’t heard any radio signals calling it back either. Now it didn’t know what to do. At least the rain that came was coming down hard wouldn’t harm it, for it was made for outside use, in all weather conditions. Of course for appearances sake its wheel was rubber which might slip on ice, snow or even a wet surface. 

      The camera which made up half of its body would broadcast this image to anyone close by who had the correct devices. But no bluetooth signals nearby. It knew it now sat on an old cement bridged without any smart tech that it might be able to connect with. Someone could plug in a three pronged device on the camera itself or even a USB wire plugged in a port under the camera. Of course most bluetooth devices had security it could not get through.

    The cold and wet weather didn’t bother it but it did keep people inside, both the good and bad. Bad in that there were humans that would steal it and tear it apart so they could sell its insides. Or reprogram it for some use it hadn’t been made for. A good person would take it back home, or call someone who would.

    Vibrations in the cement made it roll back from the edge of the street it had found itself. A big truck was coming, if it stood too close the suction of the vehicle could suck it under the truck or a part of the large vehicle might impact it damaging it.

    What to do?

    The truck zoomed by, the roar of its engines confusing the cambot’s hearing. After the heavy vehicle rolled on, it saw someone running its way. No signal came from them so it decided they wanted to steal it. It rolled toward dark shadows, hid in a corner of the bridge’s railing. They looked for it but it shut down most of its components, so no light or noise would show them where it hid.  

    Half an hour later it rolled off the bridge, to do so it had to go out onto the pavement for there were steps on the cement. It made sure it stayed there only for a minute. Another chase when those humans came back. It followed a cat who also ran. They both made it to a dark place under debris. An hour later it beeped. 

    What? It hadn’t done that.

    Oh, a signal. When it came close enough the cambot rolled out into the open. A man in a uniform it knew saw it and came over. 

    The man picked it up and said, “There you are. We will take you back home with your buddies.”

    His words and signaling device fit the cambot’s programing perimeters so it now knew what to do.   

Second one is one of the very first stories I did from a picture probably around 3, maybe 4, years ago. I call it “The Emergency Sale”

         Makueue sat at his controls, he frowned at the images above the slanted, grey panel. His eyes closed for a moment. 

         Nothing left to do. 

         His small cockpit seemed to close in on him. He could reach from one side to the other. It fit his small freighter and provided a bit more storage. Now though that extra room might cost him more. He wanted to bang his hand on the control panel but he had done that before-the panel was very hard. All it did was hurt and cause the images to jumble for a second. 

       A movement at the side made him glanced at the viewer at the side of his controls. An image of William Shakespeare showed. The real likeness of him. Or so who they now thought he was. He had turned down the sound and paused it when the call came through. Now there silence filled his ears, which fit. He had bought new versions of the plays, set in contemporary settings, to watch on this trip. He loved the Bard’s plays. Real life reactions mixed in with poetic lines. Shakespeare knew how to write.

    Damn, that beep, which had signaled the note from the Commence Ministry of the Walton Kingdom, had distracted him from the beginning of “Taming of the Shrew”. Now he didn’t fell like watching it. Bile came up at the news. 

   The recorded memo had been short. The cost of the Temp commence license had gone up. That meant he didn’t have enough to buy one. Without it if he tried to sell anything or deliver cargo to anyone, he could face prison time as a smuggler. The Royal Family, of course, could buy things from anyone they wanted to. They wouldn’t want anything he had, even if the cargo belonged to him, which it didn’t.  

        His ship, the Surreal Camel, rested near the huge hourglass-like station. Sensor dishes, weapons and squarish long comm antenna marred the bottom and top. It was this system’s  Royal courts, multi-governmental office complex. It also housed the HQ for their Smuggler Officers which also served as search and rescue. The home station, where most of the citizens lived, was another two hour trip at medium sublight speeds.

       In frustration he looked over his shoulder, pictured his ship. Its streamline oval hull with two small, fat cigar shaped outriggers. The ship’s pulse drives and gravity twisters rested in those. The Camel had two smaller drives in the main hull, away from the main drives. They could be used as thrusters, or emergency propulsion, if something happened to the larger ones. The middle of the ship could be expanded upward to make more cargo space. Right now the hump was out all the way out for he had a full cargo.

     Which I can’t sell now.

     He looked to the side, to the ceiling and deck under his shin high blue ship boots. At the moment he wore something inspired by old Earth water pirate, even though with odd colors. His shirt had a basic brown with earth tone red panels and green short wide stripes. All white pants with wide legs, completed his outfit. 

    Nothing here to inspire me. 

    If he could deliver his cargo he would get paid and be able to pay for the Temp Comm license, but they didn’t work that way here. They wouldn’t do that even for a late fee. He wouldn’t get much out of this trip but at least his costumer would be happy and his rep would be in tact. Now he could lose the cargo fee and his rep if he had to leave without delivering the cargo. And the client might sue him for the price he would have gotten. All because these asteroid heads wanted more money. 

      He couldn’t sit here  much longer either, or they would charge him for extravehicular docking fees. Makueue glanced at the side screen again. He shook his head. He had only a total of 27 hours and thirty-four and a half minutes to stay here and over half of that was gone. A strange amount of time-maybe it was a local day. No time to watch those flare blasted plays, not even just the Tragedies, to help him relax. Or to fix his mood before he had to pilot the Camel back home in defeat. 

     He stood. No room to pace in his control cabin and the rest of the small ship was too full to do a descent pace. He wanted to jump up and down; bang something. Another look at his controls. He blinked, titled his head as he stared at a tiny cube, smaller than dice, that sat in the player. What had he read about the King? 

      Maybe, I do have something to inspire me.

     He sat down, dialed the call sign for a certain official. Two days later he piloted the Camel back home. It had taken most of the rest of the 27 hours and odd minutes to get in touch with a member of the Royal family. A buyer, who came on board and examined the video cube, bought it. That gave him more time. The cube was one of a type. It could not be copied which meant it would be rare here. The buyer paid him and took the cube. Makueue bought the license, delivered his cargo to the customer;s buyer, got paid all with his rep intact and ended up with 25% more money than expected. 

    Not bad for a bad day. 

End

#sciencefiction #starwars #space #freestories #indie #thinking #devices #freighters 

Two space opera stories: one is steampunk

I have not put up any stories here for a while. I do have some on Google+ for free as well as my blog. I don't think I have any stories that would be good for Father's Day so these two will have to do. :)

June 17-very close to my birthday and BTW soon, a day or three, you can find my E-books on sale on various E-book sites. A very good price for a good, fun read. These novels have been revised and double checked. 

I wrote a space opera tale kinda of quick; 1820 words long. It’s the first story of two. It might need a bit more revising but I don’t think a lot. I tend to do some revising as I write. They call that slinky style of writing. I was trying to decide on what other story to include when it hit me. I can add an unusual one, that combines two genres. You might like the interplay of two different story ideals. 

Steampunk and Space Opera. “His Not So Peaceful Trip” 2,768 words. 

Now I can’t find it-yes, Google failed me-but the idea for this steam powered spaceship came from a real event. It kept coming up with newer discussions and designs even when I put in different questions and years. A group of men-including a Master SF writer-designed one somewhere around 1950. Many SF writers from that time period are called the Master.

My poor memory, though, can not come up with any of the names of the team or the exact year. It might be closer to 1945. I did however find some discussions on really using steam powered engines in real spaceships, evidently this is a real possibility. 

So here is story one:

“Pivot the ship!”
Helm said, “Eye sir,”
I had seen another round of incoming rockets headed in. Good thing there were not missiles. Rockets were much smaller, dump and could only go so far. They could turn to reach their target but they had no avoidance thrusters and only a tiny bit of electronic warfare routines.
My command, The Swift Kick, was a designated as a frigate even though it had more to it than just that. We could maneuver quicker, which served as well at the moment.
“Fire the EPs,” and had four larger guns than a frigate. The newest of the energy plasma weapons series. We also had lasers and blasters, even though the last were more from tradition and a last minute defense. Their range was half of what the EPs were and three-fourths of most lasers. Our two small diameter Beta Charged lasers could hit a target at the same distance as the EPs-prehaps a bit further with better accuracy.
The lights flickered a bit as all four EP used most of the power-their one drawback. It would get cold for a second soon too. My command chair sat right in the middle of a prefect circle, with each of the control seats against the wall. So my position would feel the cold more than the others. Crewmen of three stations stood while each of the others had seats. There were two spare stations used for training at times but usually ready to go as a replacement for any controls that got knocked out. That included the science bay which was a tiny alcove where the science officer stood.
Toni at Tac said, “Four scores, two are solid hits.”
I nodded good, but we would need more than that.
A moment later she said, “Fifteen rockets and four missiles.”
I almost gave an order but she knew what to do so I held my tongue and hoped our point defense was up to this. They had been a little jinzy on that. At the same time I wondered why only four missiles.
A moment later I answered myself. To soften us up. Twenty missiles showed up on sensors. A second later a bit of whiplash revealed that we moved backwards with a suddenness that wasn’t totally compensated for. Helm had backed us up without warning. The sudden change of direction though caused five EPs to miss us.
My eyebrows went up on that I wondered if we were fighting a new enemy craft. Something like the Star Knights. Whatever it was had a partial stealth field for our sensors couldn’t get a true reading. Good enough for our weapons to hit them but not enough to get a good look at them.
Blaster fire could be heard. Two EPs also fired. A few seconds later the smaller chain guns went off-they always made a stuttering electronic sound you can hear throughout the ship. The point 2 laser also fired as did the min blasters. None of the first round of incoming hit our shields but that second punch would now know what we had in the way of point defense.
“Hit them again with the EPs and lasers”
The EPs fired first and less than a second later the Beta Charged lasers fired and two-seconds after them so did the lesser lasers. I had not clarify that I wanted just the Beta Charged laser so Toni fired all of them. Three hit incoming missiles. Another five were taken out by Anti-missile rockets. I hadn’t heard them launch. Another five minutes to wait before the survivors reached us.
Sweat dripped down the back of my uniform. If we faced a newer type of warship their missiles could be significantly advanced too.
We exchanged energy weapons fire once more before the missiles reached us. This was quick, I have been in battles were took over forty minutes for missiles to reach their target. The blasters fired, then the chain guns. Another six incoming missiles gone.
I saw a buzz on my sensor screens for a moment. The phantoms with clone projectors had gone out. Small devices the size of five tablets that produced images of this ship good enough to fool the brains on attacking missiles-played havoc with full ship sensors too. 
Three of the incoming missile hit our shields with no harm to use even though one area of shields lost some power. Three was a lot from that small attack. They were probably reading a larger launch pattern. Of course it was also possible that given that they were a new ship, they may not have that many tubes. But I thought I better go with my first idea.
Lets get this over with, I thought, before we lose crew members.
“Launch a fifteen missile spread, solid strike.”
“Yes, sir.”
A few second later I heard the whoosh of come of the missiles launching. The sound carried through some of the hull, so that the ones closest to the bridge could be heard.
I watched their progress on one of my screens even though Tac commanded them. She fired a couple of Eps and lasers to soften up their shields.
Their anti missile gear wasn’t bad only five of our missiles reached close enough to strike. But they all lost contact with the enemy ship. I couldn’t believe it when they wondered off or zoomed in at a strong area of their shields. It was as if their brains just said to go in even if they couldn’t see the target anymore.
Tac spoke in an almost shout, a thirty missile spread came our way and we didn’t pick them up until they were completely clear of the enemy ship. The computer IDed ten of them as the new double warhead missile we had heard about. Ten more were bomb pumped laser missiles. Even a near shot could do damage.
I knew Toni was on it even before I could say anything but I had to voice my emotions.
The first rounds only hit one missile. The way it flew off I think its drive unit must have taken a hit. Sweat tickled my underarms and forehead. The cool air on the bridge made the skin on my head go clammy, that could be a distraction if I let it.
Toni fired more rounds at the incoming. One chain gun chugged chugged near the bridge. One screen showed me that Helm had moved the Kick sideways to give us more time to hit the incoming. Two more went down but that still left 28. Five grouped together, probably after one certain target.
The main point defense came on, but they only hit five. Make that six but that one seemed unharmed. The clone projectors went out. Earlier than last time. Either she had fired them too soon, or the computer had suggested a different defense routine.
Three incoming missile hit the shields doing no harm, but neither had been the surviving double warheads or lasers. Toni seemed to be aiming for them even though the computer did the actual aiming.
A moment later though a clump of five that had held back, came in faster. Three, which included a laser missile hit the same spot on the shields. The Kick rocked hard, I bounced in my chair, other crew members stumbled. One may have fallen, but they were behind me. An alarm sounded as a louder clang reverberator throughout the ship followed by an explosion.
Damn, the last two missile must have made it through the damaged shields and hit the ship. Damage reports start scrolling across the one screen for that purpose. One EP was gone, two crew dead and four injured but those two numbers would probably grow.
I heard the whoosh of more point defense weapons. Good, Toni and the computers were still dealing with the remaining missiles, ignoring the hits. A moment later the all clear signal sounded. No more missiles.
More dead and injured. I frowned, ordered the two surviving EPs to fire we needed to strike back but that new stealth core made that harder.
An idea hit me.
“Okay, the name of this ship is the Swift Kick, now is the time to live up to that name. We move closer and launch ten missiles, four of which will be the new phantoms. When they hit we will move in fast and quick,” Yes I said both and meant both, “to spitting range, fire what we have—including point defense—at their engineering section than we get the hell out of there launching some clone generators as we go.”
Less than thirty-seconds Toni said she was ready, a moment later Helm said he was ready.
“Watch the readings, they might change as we get close.”
An “Aye Sir” sounded and I said, “Go!”
A heart beat later we moved. We felt nothing of course but when I saw our speed, I swore that my head went back because of the increased speed. What seemed like minutes later we slowed, I heard the swoosh and strutting noises I have mentioned, then we were headed back outward. We must have looked like a person on a bungie cord.
Billy, at sensors said, “You were right Captain, the images shifted off as you predicted.”� Once we were a save distance away, save being subjective, I glanced at my screens and saw heavy damage to their engineering. A small inner blast just finished an explosion. They had three hull leaks, damage done to drives and sensors. We were fortunate for we escaped with no new damage—no more deaths. 
One of our missiles hit very close to the bridge. An internal explosion blew out a chunk of the ship. I could see evidence of fires on board, not for long but still any damage is good.
“Okay, we hit the again that hard and than we ask if they want to surrender.”
But a long moment later and they started to move. They pivoted and headed away from us. We got off two more laser hits and a missile shot before they entered FTL speed.
“Helm head back to base, we have dead to take care of, repairs to be made, wounded to have taken care of, and I have a nice long report to write. In fifteen minutes, if there no other surprises, we trade off with the beta team so we can clean up and rest.”
And to myself I added, and so I can start on that report. I may not have handled that quite right but we chased off a larger ship with new weapons so that should count for a couple of good marks.
I didn’t smile as I read the names of the daed but the crew did good and I will state that before I take my break.

The end. 

Story two:

His Not So Peaceful Trip.

“Turn the wheel...to Port.”
I watched as the helmsman fought to spin the large rudder wheel. He stood at the front and to the left much like an airship’s helmsman. I paced a few feet behind him and watched the streak come our way.
The wheel seemed to fight back, but Mosha manhandled it in the correct direction. The wheel, of course, did not control any rudders for we were in space. It operated an ingenious movement of gears and chains I didn’t fully understand. The Endeavor, like every space ship nows was full of them. The gears connected to the steering wheel opened the release hatches for the steam steering jets. Pipes led from two boilers to the jets. So that when opened the steam would rush out. The steam pushed the bonny little craft in the direction I wanted it to go. We had solid fuel rocket motors, but they were for emergencies and only directed the ship forward. Of course that object headed our way constituted an emergency, but they still wouldn’t do us any good, we wanted out of the way not meet the object even faster.
The Endeavor, one of the ships built by the United States government. There had been five ships in the US fleet, the latest US version of the ships dreamt up by Arthur C. Clarke and his BIS fifty years ago. Now there were three. The Challenger blew on the way up, right after being shot out of the cannon. My brother, Captain of the Atlantis, died when it came apart during reentry. They had been on a survey and science mission, which is what the spaceships were for, not combat. The US government, however changed points in the original design. They added devices over the years, like weapons. I still snarled when I thought of the weapons.
Right now though none of that mattered as we watched something head our way. I assumed the same question filled the thoughts of everyone on the bridge: could the Endeavor turn fast enough? We watched through the front viewport-which made the Endeavor look like a famous sub surface craft. The window could withstand the pressure of 20,000 leagues under water and had survived being shot out of a giant cannon. Yet we had two air leaks, we had a procedure to fix them though. With all that said I knew a direct hit by this object would crack it. That would allow the air to leak out which would be the end if us. The crew of the H.M.S. Clarke Five had died that way. I saw the bodies, it had been very bad.
The whole crew heard the steam hiss out, and we all prayed
to our God, that it would be enough. The Endeavor moved, the view out the window changed, but was it enough? The air felt warmer which meant those in charge of the boilers fed the fires to create more steam. 
The streak closed even faster if possible. I know I grimaced as my ship turned too slowly. It would be close--I refused to believe it wouldn’t be enough.
I---everyone---watched. I could feel the Endeavor move...it seemed too slow. I heard someone begin The Lord’s Prayer.
Fear brought bile up, it looked like it wouldn’t be...enough.
By force of will I kept my eyes open and watched the streak. It closed, I could see it looked manmade. Someone let out a gasp of a scream. I didn’t blame them.
It grew larger, filled the window...then...my body turned into an empty hose. I heard a number of breaths, mine included, being released. The object flashed by one side of the window. No crack, no thud. We would live, even if only for a few more moments...if we didn’t act.
“Turn the wheel back to the original course...raise the blast shield.”
Another crew member pulled levers which operated yet another series of gears. A piece of strong steel--thicker than a steam-dozer’s blade--angled to deflect asteroids and other space debris, rose in the front of the ship. I hated doing that last because it cut our view of the front. However the ship had other means to see.
I could hear the massive gears shift and rotate as they raised the shield. Again it felt hotter on the bridge. Both boilers must be working at full. They sat in their own compartments, under the bridge and the cabins, but the heat they produced circulated throughout the Endeavor.
Before the shield blocked the front view window I saw that we were on the right course.
“Up periscopes.”
There were five such devices, with a separate crew man at each. Each man’s job was to watch and report what he saw.
“Fire the drive rockets.”
“Aye sir.”
My first mate was only one of three who responded like that,
the others just carried out the orders. All had served in the ocean navy and had been transferred to us. I wondered if someone thought we needed military men just in case.
I felt the impact as five of the rocket engines fired. They burned a solid fuel. We carried only a limited amount so we had to be very careful in its use. I figured this was an emergency though.
The Endeavor increased its forward speed. We were still too far away to see details of the other ship, but they had fired on us with no provocation. All we did was try to communicate with flashing Morse code and wireless telegraph. As much as I hated it we would return the favor. 
First, however, “Cease the rocket engines...Fire three rockets.”
That last order hurt me, I had argued against arming these new ships. I wanted it to be a trip of peaceful exploration and discovery, but these, whoever they were, didn’t seem to care for that.
The cannoneer mumbled something and a moment later I heard three clangs as one. The rockets were new and were exactly the same type used as those used in combat. With one modification. It had been decided that firing them from a ship might interfere with that ship’s course. Instead they were catapulted away. The action ignited a fuse inside the rocket that would light the chemical fuel. Five-seconds later--right on the button according to my pocket watch--one watcher said, “The rockets are on a good course, sir.”
We waited again, I hoped he also kept an eye out for any rockets or objects sent our way.
“All three hit, sir. I think they exploded near a weapon of some type...They produced minimal damage, however. I saw some pieces of metal go flying, but no hole in the attacker.”
“A streak is headed our way.”
We received more warning this time, “To Port, helmsman.”
Again he manhandled the wheel, again I heard the hiss of steam as it escaped. It could have been me, but I thought the air started to feel cooler.
A new voice, one of the side watcher’s said, “The streak past us by a mile.”
“Back to course.”
At that moment I heard something that sounded like pings from the metal shield.
That same Watcher said, “They are firing at us with some type of gun.”
Without a warning a scream echoed through the ship. By
reflex I looked down, because it had originated from below. Before I could give an order we all fell toward the side when the Endeavor titled.
Mosha said, “They must have damaged a gear, the controls are sluggish.”
More pings on the shield, fear leapt in my heart when I heard a crack. It was followed by a groan. One from inside the bridge. The ship tilted forward and sunk-it got hotter, very hot. I knew something was wrong with a broiler. Ted, first mate, ran for the speaker tube. Air rushed by me. I looked and found a small hole in the window near where it joined the metal body of the ship. So one bullet managed to slip around the shield somehow. I also noticed that no one stood near it. I was the closest. A Watched shouted, “Two streaks headed our way.”
No time to deal with that, I ran, slipped when the Endeavor tilted again, caught my balance, and made it to the emergency bucket. The bridge had two of them. As I said we had a procedure for small leaks. I grabbed the ladle. Pain seared though my hand, yet I held on-I had to. The fire under the bucket was still going. My teeth ground together as I spun around, headed for that hole. A tiny tornado rushed toward it, along with papers and pencils. With little grace I dumped the thick liquid onto the hole. A maple smell filled the bridge, I couldn’t understand why, but my mouth watered, waffles and this syrup would taste good. Yes, we used good old Vermont maple syrup. It flowed through the hole, froze when it touched space. Instant plug, the air stopped, the papers and pencils fell. Two pieces stuck out of the hole intermixed with the syrup.
Ted said, “One engineer is badly hurt sir, he was shot then fell on the broiler. He received some bad burns.”
The Endeavor slipped again, we fell toward the window then to one side.
“That broiler is out of control, it’s releasing too much stream--they are opening ad closing emergency stream release tubes”� Those tubes led to outside the ship and acted like the steering jets which explained the wild ride.
Ted continued, “If they can’t lower the temperature, it will blow.”
Another problem, how can I use one against the other? As I had been taught.
“Use the emergency cooler.”
That was a pipe that let water from the broiler drop into the fire pan of the broiler instantly putting out the fire.
“The Chief engineer says that will make that broiler useless until it dries out.”
“If it blows it will be useless, as will as the whole ship.”
A sudden thought came to mind, “Is there an emergency pipe through the belly?”
“Yes,...”
I didn’t let him come up with an excuse why we shouldn’t use it, “Let out as much stream as possible through that pipe.”
“Aye sir.”
I waited, I looked around, saw that the wounded crew member was receiving treatment. It didn’t look bad.”
When I felt the ship move upward I directed the helmsman. He fought the wheel harder than usual, but the ship turned. The forward watcher said, “The enemy ship is up and ahead of us. I can clearly see it’s belly.
“Fire one of the XJs.”
Along with a dozen of the smaller rockets and two other
weapons, we carried two large experimental rockets. They carried an explosive charge ten times the weight of the smaller ones.
More levers were pulled which resulted in a larger clang. A few seconds later the watcher said, “I see the ignition, the rocket is headed out.”
We waited again.
Watcher One?”
“The XJ is still flying, sir. It-it exploded-but no direct hit the enemy.”
I thought, what, did they have some type of weapon to shot down our rockets?� His voice continued, “It was close enough to damage the enemy, sir. Whatever it hit must have been very close...maybe a wireless antennae I couldn’t see.”
“What damage to that ship?”
“I see a hole plus debris and what might be bodies. We scored big. They’re firing on us again?”
More pings.
I said, “We shall return the favor. Fire the gats.”
The cannoneer mumbled some more, but pulled different levers. Two new clangs meant to new hatches opened. More gear sounds and two Watchers-these weapons were on each side of the ship-said, “The Gatling guns are deployed.”
One Watcher ended his comment with a “Sir”.
I said, “Fire if you please, Lieutenant.”
The first mate pulled a lever and I heard the gats fire. We only had so many bullets for them though.
“Hold your fire until we see what damage the other ship took.”
Watcher one said, “I can see impacts on the other ship, but we are too far away to. I can’t see damage.”
A moment later though, “There is some damage. A tiny piece spun away...I see steam escaping from one side.”
I raised my eyebrows could it be battle damage or were they...
“They must have had enough, sir. They are turning and fleeing like a dog with its tail between its legs.”
My First Officer said, “We need to chase them, sir. Find out where they are from.”
“Slow our speed. How much air do we have left?”
The First Mate said, “Four hours sir, that is enough time to see where they head. We need to know if they’re from Russia, those short, slanted eyed people from the East or someone form Mars.”
I thought about it, “Yes, we do but it could be a trap or it might take too long to find their port of call. On top of that we have injured. Head back to over Washington, DC.”
There was another reason to get out of the way. Discovery was about to be shot into space. I wanted to be somewhere safely out of the way. If we had a chance to communicate with them, we could tell them of the attacker. They had full weapons and full air supply so they could search for them.
We made it back to the spot where I wanted to be just in time to see a giant poof from the surface. An intermitted cloud cover made it hard to tell but I thought it came from somewhere in Florida. The same cannon that shot us into space.
I decided to say something, “Crew, you all did well. We survived being shot into space, we survived the attack and beat off the attacker,” there was a cheer here, “we will stay up here for another two and a half hours-we still have a survey to do...then head down.”
There were groans at that last. I didn’t blame them. The shot up here had been rough but the reentry would be rougher. We would aim for the right position and angle, then fire the drive rockets to send us into the atmosphere and to use up the fuel. The trip down would get very hot. That was how the Atlantis had been lost, unused fuel exploded on the way down. My brother and the rest of the men lost on that ship and the Discovery had been a bonny crew: strong, intelligent and brave, served their country and science-heroes all. I miss him badly but he died doing what he wanted.
If everything went as planned half way to the surface three helium balloons would pop out. I was glad we had the support of the US government which meant we had a large supply of helium. It was better for our use than the hydrogen The Hindenburg and other large airships used. The drag the balloons produced would slow us down enough so we could land in one of the Great Lakes. There would be more bruises but experience told us we would survive.
While we waited, I had things to think about. I really hadn’t wanted the weapons on board but this attack from a strange ship had been unprovoked. We had tried to communicate peacefully...they tried to destroy us, to kill my crew and did injury two. I had hoped if they were follow humans we could join forces to explore space. If they were from Mars, or even Venus, we could have shared sciences. What they could tell us of their world would further our knowledge and what we know of the planets. In either case, it looked like they wanted space for themselves. They could be responsible for the disappearance of the Germain space dirigible, the Uber Bismarck. Or since our attacker was three times our size it could have been the Bismarck. Whatever the case we needed to be armed to defend ourselves.
I sighed, I hated to come to that conclusion but with dangerous people, Martians, or Venusians, or even Germans, in space we had to be careful. Which meant we needed to be armed if they attacked us again. We should try to communicate with them, but we shouldn’t be sitting ducks either.

The End

Triple tales Valentine's Day '18

Feb 10 close to Valentine’s Day. In honor of that day, even though a lot of what goes on is more for lust than love, I decided to do three more or less Romance stories. The idea though to celebrate what a Saint who married couples he was not suppose to, did and love. 

The first deals a growing relationship. The second one involves a married couple getting romantic and the unusual result of it and finally a wife who loses her husband-he was there a minute ago.

A few of you may have read the first one recently, it is in my Stories Inspired by Pictures Collection on Google+. I posted the second one last year and so some of you may have read it then. I doubt if anyone read the last one. I wrote it two years ago as a kinda of sequel to a more serious, longer one I wrote about Time.

Next week I believe I will do one of a couple in my revised and almost ready to go Courier Novel.

The three stories and about 3,735 words long and are a mixture of genre






The Moon Castle



Susan said, “Hey, you picked a good place for us to talk. That ancient city is beautiful with the full moon behind it.”
“I saw it last month when I was there. I knew you would like it and I wanted to share it with you.”
Tony looked up from his tablet, Grey was right that was a nice place to talk about love. Even though he wouldn’t say the city was ancient. It’s only four hundred years old give or take up to fifty years.
It was a walled city; an almost prefect example of medieval towns. The ten foot hight three foot thick wall around it is still complete almost like they built it yesterday. Except for the age discoloration and the cracks in some of the stones, he thought. From his position next to the SUV parked on a sand dune he could see houses, Inns and other businesses between the wall and the castle that stood on that small hill for hundreds of years. It looked dark now that it was night and that no one lived there-thus the mystery they were studying here, but in day light he could see the dark gray mixed with a light gray with a few black spots.
One reason it had been left whole might have that it had been built here in the middle of no where; no one fought over it evidently. Little water around here except for the four large springs inside the walls. Enough for the people, horses, a few cows and sheep, plus a few small gardens and farms inside. A lot of the food had needed to be imported. That may have what ended the city. It didn’t look like a drought or famine did the people in, but they still had digging and translating of documents to do.
Grey said, “I wish we could be there together but these two laptops will do. We can see each other and the city.”
Susan said, “I like that. You can be thoughtful at times.”
“It’s easy with you. You’re beautiful and you are so easy to talk to. You’re smart too.”
Tony frowned. He had positioned the two laptops in the sand just right so the cameras in each could pick up the other person and the city with its romantic moon.
Grey really did think she was smart. He liked that he could talk to her about archeology and she understood it even though it wasn’t her major interest. But he was in danger of laying it on too thick.
A pause that made him think he had been right in his thoughts.
“The moon is quiet lovely there. I wish I could have come to visit you there. Not only is that a beautiful view but it should be quiet interesting to learn more of what you do.”
She overused the word “quite” but that was for Grey to decide about, Tony thought. But now she was using relationship techniques on him. She really liked him though, if he judged her correctly from the two times they met. He thought they would be a good couple.
Of course they almost blew it earlier, so they could again. They knew each other at one collage but he transferred to another university with a better archeological department. They wrote some to each other but stopped. A year later they met again, this time they traded E-mail addresses and communicated via video texts.
Grey said, “The city is four hundred years old and very well kept up. Its people left when the Duke in charge of it left. They straggled out though for some still tried to make a go of it. I wished I could have stayed longer. So much to study and to learn there. They even left books and scrolls behind. Some barrels had residue of ale and wine in them.”
Oh oh, don’t talk too much about your boring work.
He then added, “Your studies must be interesting.”
Susan nodded, “I have learned a lot about business and how one manages different sizes of businesses. Some of it is quite hard though.”
“You can do it. I know you can, probably finish in the top percentile of your class.”
So he also used techniques but I see it in his eyes he really feels like she can graduate high in her class.
Something howled in the distance. Tony’s head jerked up, Ohoh, wolves or hyenas or something. But if they come near I have a gun, bright lights and a very loud noise maker. The weapon will be for last chance. The air horn should make whatever it is jump, and run.
He turned back to the images he was following.
They had talked more while he was distracted.
Grey said, “I wish we were together. Your eyes look great on these new screens but they are much more beautiful in person. I like staring at them.”
She blushed, Tony thought.
Susan said, “I am glad we met at the coffeehouse, the fact that they were filled and we had to share a table was fate. That was nice music and I like talking with you. You have a strong face.”
Tony thought, yeah at the Rusty Bean according to Grey, back three years ago. Grey said that after they had stopped sending letters he had gone to the Bean Pit at the new university but never met anyone like her. Since they had people and places they both knew he hoped they would run into each other again.
Grey smiled and they talked more about each other.
They had met again after Tony became his friend but then separated, but later she wanted the video chats. Grey liked them too.
The couple looked at each other and smiled. Tony rolled his eyes and tried not to listen too closely. That howling helped. It didn’t sound any closer. There was the camp with lights, fires and noisy people not far from where he had set up the laptops but they, whatever they were, could decided to come check him out anyway. He made sure his large bright flashlight was still handy as was the gun.
He glanced back at the images. They seemed ready to call it a night. He was glad this was just a video conference. If they were live they would be kissing now, maybe beyond kissing. And he would have to wait for them while trying not to watch. Grey wouldn’t like it and he was sure that Susan would blush but after a while not care.
They ended, Susan said, “I will have to go to England next semester.”
“I have the chance to go on a dig in France, if I can raise the money. There are grants I can try for,”
Oh, Tony thought, that meant he wouldn’t be there to help them out. They would be on their own. But most couples in the last two hundred years had been on their own and worked things out even in a long distance relationship. Many had failed but obviously not all by any count.
The two said good bye and after each thanked him for his part they signed off. He gathered the laptops one at a time and signed out and turned them off. He set his tablet for music and started the jeep. Glad to be of help but also glad to leave those howls.

end



Preoccupied On A New Planet

By L. E. Prescott



Judy’s bare legs and top tingled. Her shoeless feet smacked the hot ground; she let out small pain cries. As she ran for the safety of the new barn near enough to see the low silhouette building shone with reflective brightness. She tried to pull the hem of her mini skirt down. A useless gesture for she wore nothing else-damn she shouldn’t have fallen asleep after her and her husband spent some time together this far from any building.
They were new here but that wasn’t a reason to forget that the suns here created radiation storms that can turn the wind deadly on this planet. The first killing breezes rubbed her bare body.
Once awake all she had time for was to grab the nearest piece of clothing. She had worn that outfit to get him back to the house, but she loved the flavor of his lips almost as much as she loved him-and it had been ages.
He may have decided she wanted sleep when he went to the house-her nose said he had needed a shower after all. She hoped he was there; the beep from her radio had probably been him. Now the second sun shone and would stalk the world with that weird radiation wind until the larger third sun blocked it.
She needed to reach the barn with its reflective, anti-rad roof designed to protect animals. It had an anti-sun suit so she could search for her husband even through the wind, if she needed to.
Damn, she could hear the wind blow through the trees as far away as they were. They must make that sound to warn the animals to hide in holes in the ground or in the thicker trees.
Somehow her legs moved faster, there the barn, from the now heavy breeze she would need that thick, decayed sap they had found that leached the radiation out, but there was some in the barn.
Judy shivered as the wind blew across her back and legs, but not from cold. Somehow she reached the sliver door, punched in the three digit code they all had to memorize. It slid open she skidded inside, it skated closed. A deep breath, she found the right locker but grabbed the comm unit instead.
A voice she knew said, “I’m here, God I’m glad you made it, I was on my way out.”
She blinked, she hadn’t turned it on yet. A shadow moved. She turned her husband stood there with one of the anti-rad robes on. The cowl covered his head down to his eyes. He held the eye-mouth piece.
A gasp came out of her mouth, she wanted to grab him and hug him feel his body even though that ridicules robe. He moved though, reached into the locker, got the jar of sap. A moment later she gasped again for he had started to splash it on her. It was thick, clammy and smelled. In the process he took off the robe and covered himself too.
Once done he stood back, the wind howled like it wanted in, but they were safe.
Judy looked at him, thought about how this all got started; her emotions now relaxed. Tension drifted away, it left something else behind-they were both safe after a too close of a call. He looked at her with a puzzled expression. He would find it that she decided that since they had to wait anyway, she could find out how his sap covered body felt next to hers.

End










Time For A Fit
By L. E. Doggett


The young woman jumped up and down in the center of the street and cursed. Her voice echoed around the older Middle Class houses around her. Very few cars sat in drive-ways and along the curb.
A middle aged man, tall, slightly punchy heard her, hurried out of his house and ran up to her.
He slowed though when he caught a whiff of sweaty clothes. Was she drunk or high? But her and her husband didn’t do that.
Ben said, “Brittany, what are you doing? Do you need help?”
She stopped, turned to him, her expression showed anger and helplessness.
“My husband disappeared and no one wants to help. I called 911 and asked the neighbors. Most people are gone but those that are here said they couldn’t help.”
While she talked he felt a prickling sensation on his skin. He glanced at the sun, the day felt hot already but they stood in the shade. A sniff brought a whiff of her fear sweat.
He said, “What happened?”
“He was getting in his car when I heard a rushing sound, almost like a train. I looked out our living room window and saw color lights strobing, almost like a storm made of up different colored lightning. I ran outside but by the time I got out the door the lights were gone...so was Jim. I looked everywhere, but there was no sign of him.”
“What colors did you see?”
“All types: Red, burnt orange, green, hunter green, blue, mauve, turquoise, yellow and two I didn’t know.”
“Show me where it happened.”
Brittany nodded and led him down the street to a small yellow house. It looked older and the trim might need paint soon.
She pointed to the window, then to a blue older model car in front of the house, “I was in there when Jim went outside because he was going to the store. That was when I heard the noise and saw the light show.”
He nodded and walked over to a spot halfway to the house. That prickling sensation felt stronger. Maybe it wasn’t caused by the high temperature after all.
Ben looked around, dropped to his knees--with a groan--, sniffed a scorched mark on the grass. He traces of ozone along with scent he couldn’t identify filled his sinuses.
He said, “I’ll be right back,” he stood in a quick movement and was off.
Brittany shouted, “You know what happened to Jim,” but he ignored her.
Within ten minutes Jim hurried back to Brittany’s house. He carried a black leather bag the size of a large purse. A pair of thick, goggle like classes sat on his face.
He sat the bag down and opened it. With much care he lifted an electronic device out. It looked two feet by half a foot, with two screens, one the size of two cellphones.
After he set it down he knelt in front of it, he pressed two switches, pushed a button in the back. A second screen the size of a smart phone screen, lit up. He pressed three buttons on the larger screen, studied both screens. The grass blades and tiny stones pressed against his knees, he ignored the pebbles. He rubbed one arm, the skin felt warm...the ozone scent grew.
“Damn, thought so.”
“What? Is this going to help find my husband?”
“Yes, but I have to move fast. No time to explain now.”
The two screens changed, one with something that looked like a sound wave pattern switched color. As quick as he could manage move he stood, moved over to the burnt spot.
She said, “Hey, what’s going on?”
“No time.”
After a count to ten he reached forward. She stepped back and gasped. He knew she did because his hands disappeared. As he continued to reach, more of his arm vanished. Brittany let out a small scream. He wanted to spit for the smell was worse than full outhouse on a hot, rainy day. A different smell of course but it still produced a bad taste in his mouth.
With the thought, I hope this is the right guy, he reached in a bit further, grabbed something. Once he held the object in a secure grip he pulled back. Nothing happened, he pulled harder. He could feel his upper back, and arm muscles strain. With a “uuuuufff,” he pulled harder.
His arms came into view--he sighed--as more of them came back into existence. Ben’s hands appeared. Something was in them. With a grunt he pulled harder. A piece of cloth popped into view. The cloth turned into an arm. A shoulder appeared next. His hand slipped but he pulled harder. A face showed up.
Brittany let out a scream when lights appeared. He couldn’t see them all but he knew they included all the colored she had described. A rushing noise started. It might have been a train but sounded louder and higher pitched.
With another grunt he pulled harder. A whole man popped out of no where. Ben sighed but pulled the man away from the spot.
Brittany screamed “Jim!”
Jim stumbled, moved with Ben. A moment later he halted and pulled his arm away out of Ben’s hands.
He looked around with confusion on his face, “Where am I? Brittany how did you get outside so fast? For that matter who is this?”
Ben took off the goggles as Brittany said, “He’s Ben from down the street, he moved in here two months ago. I don’t know where you were, but you were gone for three hours at least.”
Jim looked more confused, he looked around, glanced at Ben, looked at his wife.
“I feel funny but I just walked out here.”
Ben said, “You remember any noises or lights.”
“Yeah, now that you mention it. I heard a loud noise. I looked around and saw lights, then nothing. A moment later I saw them again and heard that noise again. You were pulling me.”
Ben thought the guy badly needed a shower but he said, “I know where you were: the Quantum energy flux field.”
Ben said, “Time? Come on.”
“Well, you were somewhere,” he turned to Brittany who nodded, “someone, around here, must have been playing around some quantum energy or a detector. I don’t know who or why, it’s possible they didn’t know what they were doing or were testing some equipment. Whatever the case, spare energy found a flaw in the structure that keeps the quantum flow energy field separated from our world.
“You happened to walk near it at the wrong time. It opened and you fell in. You saw the quantum energy as colored lights, our brains translates the energy from the flux field that way for some reason. The sound you heard at first and we heard later was the movement of time. I felt the energy on my skin. You probably felt something on your skin.”
Jim looked dumbfounded but nodded, “It tingled.”
Ben reached into a pocket but drew it out empty. He thought, Damn, didn’t have time to grab that root beer float flavored gum. I need some too, with this long conversation.
“Once you were inside NoTime, you started to travel through time.”
Jim and Brittany together said, “No time?”
“NoTime, it’s what we call the flux field for short. In an ironic situation time doesn’t flow in there. Which is why he didn’t know any time had past.”
He swallowed dry and said, “Moving in that field is much like floating on a moving river. You don’t stay in one place unless you work at it. If you don’t stop yourself, you drift with the current.
“I moved here to study NoTime which is why I have a detecter. There seems to be weak places around...I have no idea why but the detecter can send signals through weaknesses without effecting the time flow. I used the detecter to find the hole I knew had to be around here, these goggles allowed me to see it. After I was sure where the hole was I reach in and grabbed you. If I hadn’t I have no idea where you would end up. Ten years in the future, a thousand five hundred and two years? If you moved into another stream it’s possible you could end up in another timeline.”
“There’s no such thing as time travel!”
“Yeah, I used to say that too but...”
Brittany spoke up, “I saw him pull you out of nothing. You really disappeared. I saw the lights, heard the noise and felt the same thing he felt but I didn’t know what it was....I looked everywhere and no one would help me. I called 911 but they must have thought I was playing games when I mentioned the colors. I tried everything I could think of and nothing. I...I totally lost control. I cursed and jumped. I knew it wouldn’t help and the neighbors would think I was crazy but I couldn’t stop myself...until Ben came and asked me if I needed help.”
Jim shook his head and looked like he wanted to believe and didn’t want to believe at the same time.
Ben said, “I know it’s hard but you can try to go back into the hole.”
Brittany said, “No! You might not come back this time.”
Jim looked at her but said to Ben, “Is this hole going to be there forever?”
Ben said, “No, it should heal in a manner of minutes.”
Jim’s eyes widened and Brittany said, “That’s why you were in such a hurry. He...he could have been trapped in there. Oh God.”
Ben said, “Yes, he could have been.”
A pause then Jim looked around at the ground, bent over, picked up three stones. He threw them one at a time toward where he had been. The middle stone disappeared. He did it again. The second two disappeared. He walked around, counted the stones on the ground.
“It’s crazy...but the evidence shows something is there. I really heard the noises, saw the lights and felt something strange.”
Ben nodded, “I know the feeling well. There’s no reason you should know about the Flux field, most people have no interest in how time really operates,” he shrugged, “there's no need for them to.”
Jim said, “Yeah, unless they fall into a hole”
“That is very, very rare. It takes some unusual circumstances to create a hole, even around here. On top of that the chances of one being big enough to pull a person in are even smaller.”
“Lucky me.”
“I’ll go now. There’s nothing I can do to make the hole heal any faster so stay away from it for a while. It should be almost closed by now. Hopefully no birds or cats get into it. A small stone won’t do any damage, but a moving, angry cat might.”
Brittany looked at her husband and at Ben, “Thank you.”
Jim still with an unsure look on his face shook Ben’s hand. Ben warned them again, took his time putting the detector in the bag, and headed off for his home, at a slow speed this time.

The End.