The Book Report: Dead Silence by S.A. Barnes

The Book Report:

Dead Silence

by S.A. Barnes

 

 ---

 

Outside, there's nothing. The void. Dark, endless blackness. Impossible cold. No food, water, or air. Just emptiness. Inside, the darkness presses in around you, only better than the void outside by the few work lamps that protect you from the black of infinity. Your head is pounding and the claustrophobia is setting in. The finery of a bygone era is all around you. Rare woods, plush carpeting, and beautiful flowers in every vase. Extravagant jewels, silks, fabrics, and opulence that only the most money can bye adorn the corpses of those who last found themselves in these haunted halls. If not for the dead, it very well may be an exciting adventure to board such a fine vessel, but the question keeps nagging at you. How did they die? Why did they die? And why do I keep seeing something move out of the corner of my eye?

Dead Silence is a masterful recapturing of the classic haunted house story, this time told in the deep recesses of space. Following Claire Kovalick and her team of deep space communications engineers, the story hops quickly between 'then' and 'now' as Claire retells the tale of how she found herself to be the sole survivor of a harrowing discovery after answering a distress beacon at the farthest reaches on known space.

With only bits and pieces of memory, some of which she can't even be sure are real, Claire retells how her and her crew discover the missing luxury cruise ship, the Aurora. A one-of-a-kind piece of history, this ghost ship has been lost for several decades after only a brief hay-day when it was revered as the single most luxurious form of space travel the worlds had ever seen. Only several months into the Aurora's maiden voyage, however, the ship mysteriously went missing without a trace, with no sign of it. Until now.

On entering the ship, they only find more questions than answers. And the mystery, and terror, deepens when they find themselves locked inside the Aurora with no way to escape and something else beginning to react to their presence there.

Now, locked in a mental institution after her discovery, Claire recounts her tale to the company executives in charge of investigating the ship's disappearance. She has no idea how she escaped and is only beginning to put the pieces back together after being discovered in an escape pod by a passing vessel. The company is certain that Claire killed her crew, either by accident or design, in the interest of keeping the wealth of the Aurora to herself. After all, this is the second time that she was the sole survivor of a catastrophic event and the first time certainly didn't paint her in a good light. And it seems all too convenient that she's haunted by her dead crewmates, tripping her up during her interviews when the company men might get something useful out of her.

Using the first person narrative, Dead Silence does a fantastic job of dropping the reader into the terror and keeping them in the action. A lot of information that ties to the heart of the mysteries is readily apparent and available in the reading, but often not plainly obvious due to the disorienting nature of everything going on. Even better than that, and perhaps this is just personal preference, while most things are wrapped up rather nicely, certain fantastical elements are simply never expanded on past the obvious due to the fact that the narrator herself never learns the answers. In my opinion, this actually helps strengthen the narration as a whole and adds to the sensation of being in the action.

I think my one complaint for the tale, and the reason I couldn't give this five stars, is that the strength of the book is also its weakness. Claire is very clearly traumatized and suffering from mental health issues. This is a point of growth with her character and it is very reasonably and satisfactorily addressed. However there are a number of times in the story where the focus is so heavily on this element and the 'spinning gears' in her head, so to speak, that I feel it detracts too much from what's going on. There are a few parts where it steps over the disorienting storytelling and instead becomes self focused enough that it begins to lose the reader and the focus of the rest of the book. If these areas were cleaned up, it would truly be a perfect, scary story.

All in all, Dead Silence does a great job in standing among other space-based horror stories. Akin to tales such as Alien, Dead Space, and, particularly, Event Horizon, the author holds their own, using both the expected and unexpected to craft a fantastic scary story. I definitely recommend this book for anyone who wants a new spin on the old classic of ghosts and ghoulies that go bump in the night, wandering haunted halls til someone new comes to call.

If you're interested in checking it out for yourself, feel free to check out the link below, I personally recommend the audiobook as Lauren Ezzo's acting adds an extra, emotional weight to the story that I believe adds to its telling:

 

Dead Silence | Audible Audiobook

Dead Silence | Kindle Edition

Dead Silence | Paperback

Dead Silence | Hardcover

Uncanny Valley - Part 1

    The sounds of electronics waking, gas hissing, and alarms blaring brought him to consciousness.
    He was cold inside as if he'd been frozen for an eternity and even in waking couldn't be warm. He couldn't feel anything. His limbs and fingers refused to work how he wanted. They were heavy as lead, tingling only ever so slightly with a faint buzz like electricity.
    Leaning forward from his metal coffin, the previously sealed tube, Adam coughed hard.
    It did little to help his condition, but at least he was still alive.
    His eyes didn't work though. His vision was bleary.
    Where am I?
    He could vaguely recall a brief moment of people standing above him. He had been on a table: cold and hard. Who were they? Doctors? Surgeons? Someone had been working on him but he couldn't remember how or why. He remembered the hot, bright lights and the sensation of their hands digging around in his chest.
    Tenderly, he reached up and touched where he remembered those hands had been. He found nothing. Not even a scar.
    No wound.
    Had it been a dream?
    "kkkkZZT!"
    Above him, a speaker chirped to life.
    "Hello? Hello?! Can you hear me?" the voice of a terrified young woman called out.
    The man jumped, gasping in surprise at the sound over the loud-speaker. His numb hands latched onto the sides of the tube and he gagged in shock.
    The woman continued overhead unabated.
    "Oh please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead." she rattled frantically over the sound of someone tapping ferociously on a keyboard before suddenly. "YES! You're alive! He'saliveyou'realive!"
    The man's breath hitched in his throat and he found himself staring up at the loud speaker. His vision was clearing but he couldn't process what was happening.
    "Can you hear me?" she asked, her voice softening but still high strung. "If you can hear me, please say something. Please?"
    For a long minute, he thought about that request. How does one speak? Something about lungs and a tongue. A breath and a thought. He coughed twice more before the words formed with little coherence as to their meaning.
    "H-H-Here. I'm h-here."
    No response.
    "H-Here." he tried again. "Hello?"
    Still nothing.
    He was trying to form the words again, to think what to say and how to say it, when the loudspeaker again chirped to life.
    "I can hear...something. But it's not really coming through. It's just static." the woman said, her voice hollow through the speaker as she, once again, seemed to pound away on a keyboard. "Something didn't go wrong did it? No? No? Ok. Ooookay."
    She seemed to giggle almost hysterically before turning her attention back to him.
    "Ok. Just give me a second to think..."
    The man stared at the loudspeaker for a few moments more before looking around. The room he was in was sterile and empty, devoid of anything warm or human even in appearance. Nothing but machinery; hanging tools, dangling wires, medical tables, and more. There were a few other large tubes like the one he had woken up in, but they all appeared empty.
    He was just about to climb out when he heard the woman return.
    "Ok. I got it. If I remember right, there's a little security office down the hall from the recovery lab. There should be a mic in there. We can try again when you find it."
    "Okay." he agreed, though he wasn't sure why since she'd already said she couldn't hear him.
    Weakly, his limbs still heavy, the man pulled himself forward out of the tube.
    It was only as he stepped out onto the tiled metal floor that he finally realized he wasn't as cold as he thought he was. The floor was. Not only that, but wasn't wearing anything.
    "F-f-fuck." he rattled out hoarsely, his teeth chattering involuntarily.
    Glancing around the rather spartan room, he saw very little in the way of anything helpful. More wires. More tubes. More bits and bobs of electronics and gizmos that he had no hope of ever understanding. Things and stuff. Medical equipment and robotics.
    However, as he padded across the icy tile floor wondering if he would be the first person he knew of to freeze to death in a naked and alone in a hospital room, he found small box of various garments in a cupboard near the front.
    Hospital pants and gowns did little to offer much protection, but they were still sealed and sanitary. He threw on several sets of both followed by two pairs of non-slip socks that he found in the bottom of the box.
    All in all, the layers made him look a touch ridiculous, but they at least helped him feel more like a person and less like a meat popsicle.
    Hesitantly, he exited out the only door in the room and, despite any creeping thoughts of monsters or aliens waiting to spring, he found himself in a perfectly ordinary hallway. There were a number of doors in either direction and the hall to the right curved out of sight a couple dozen yards away but that was it. With the exception of a small plastic sign, there was nothing that stood out.

<---                     Assembly

<---  WetWear Integration 

Recovery

Security                      -->

Management               -->

    Following the sign, the man made his way down the right hall.

    Many of the doors that he passed were labeled with letters and numbers. "AH-321" and "AH-322" went up sequentially on one side while "R-5" dropped down to "R-1" before he reached the curve in the hall. Just around the bend, a heavy set door that stood out with its black and yellow striped frame and "SECURITY - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" blazoned in small, blocky letters stood out from the others he'd walked by.

    Only one problem...

    There was no door handle.

    The man walked up to the door and simply stared at it. How was he supposed to open it? There was no handle or any other obvious means to pry it open. The door itself was set into the door frame and was likely made of heavier stuff than he had in him. What was he supposed to do?

    He glanced around the empty, seemingly endless hall to no effect. There didn't seem to be anyone around.

    "Hello?" he called out in vain.

    No one answered.

    It was then that he saw the security panel set into the wall. It was slim and recessed into the metal, but stood out by its jet black coloring and small, red LED that glew brightly even in the fluorescent glare of the hall.

    And, as he stared at it wondering what even to DO with this knowledge, he watched as the red LED turned green with a soft chime. The door slide open with a woosh and inside a bay of computer monitors lit up.

Further Updates and a Few Changes

Hello Lovelies,

As you might have already suspected, my continued silence has still been related to working on the currently unnamed game. I'm definitely making progress and this will almost certainly become my next project versus just a 'tinkering' kind of situation. As such, I wanted to provide some updates and observations.

First off, the LITERAL update (seen above) highlights a mostly completed intro cutscene featuring the wonderful voice talents of Kristington Plotkin, the manager of and one of the voice actors for "Tales of Passing Fantasy". She will be acting as Science Officer Mara Lethe with one of the few voice acted positions in the game. As for the actual video, please ignore my developer button (Read: Google T-Rex) and the fact that I definitely need to tweak a little bit of timing and such here and there.

So what happens from here?

Well, I have no intent on simply STOPPING Infested (of which I've realized I might need to change the title for...turns out Steven King had a collection of short stories named the same thing so...damn). However, my time has definitely been split. Most any free time spent at home has quickly turned into 'coding' time and I've been working heavily on this project. While I call it coding, this has included art selection and manipulation, music picking, editing, and alteration, working with my CURRENTLY one voice actor, writing the story itself (which is a whole OTHER beast compared to normal work), and then actually coding everything together and fixing the bugs that pop up so it works like it's supposed to.

So that means home time has not been spent on Infested.

INSTEAD, what I'm going to be doing is working on it in the sidelines. I occasionally have free time early in the morning or on Sundays (as demonstrated by this very post) along with pockets of time here and there where I have pen and paper or laptop in hand. I think I'm going to try and make those instances work for continuing the story simply because I don't want to just drop it.

How will this change the site?

Overall, I don't see the game as being any more than a different kind of writing project. It's just a more challenging one (I'll talk about it later, but the story is going to be different because it's going to be basically 100% dialogue...and 2nd person). As such, I intend to post updates/examples/etc. from the actual game design (likely more focused on the actual writing) as well as posting updates from Infested. The scheduling might be a bit dirty compared to the every-two-days I kept fighting for, but I promise I will be here a minimum of once a week (although I'd like to continue the three/four a week trend I was trying to set).

Last but not least, I'm thinking of creating a Patreon for this project, but that's currently in the works.

I love you all and hope you are having a wonderful day.


- RB

Birthday - Part 4

    A short fifty three minutes later, the dropship touched down hard.
    Simultaneously, thirteen flight harnesses disengaged and men and women whose sole purpose in life was dispatch violence exploded from the rear hatch of the ship. Fire in the bellies and rifles in their hands.
    Fireteam Alpha was first.
    They moved with purpose and conviction. Every step was calculated and four sets of eyes scanned their surroundings as efficiently as any radar could hope to achieve. Bullock and Greer, both armed with their pulse rifles, stayed glued to "Brick" and Mikhailov. Mikhailov brandished a heavy, articulated gauss cannon while "Brick" swept the area with a heavy set, grenade launcher; both of them ready to dispense death to anything that threatened them or the dropship.
    But their reign was not challenged.
    Moments later, the next two fireteams, Bravo and Charlie, emerged from the belly of the dropship. They moved to the left and right of Alpha team, with Staff Sergeant Coughlin taking up a position in the middle of all three.
    But still nothing moved.
    And for that, Coughlin let out a small sigh of relief.
    Having the members of her squad around her was comforting. She wouldn't trade any one of them for a million recruits fresh out of boot. They were her armor and her weapons; her very extension of self. She knew they'd give their lives just as soon as she'd give hers to save them all and she could trust any of them to cover her back just as well as she could cover her own.
    Luckily, there didn't seem to be a need.
    The swampy area where they stood was less than appealing, but given the mention of "dangerous organisms" it was hard not to imagine hulking monsters emerging from the darkness as they landed. Instead, they were greeted by a gentle, almost serene night-time landscape.
    The dropship had touched down on a large, dry area in the swamp that may very well have been some form of atoll. Surrounded by thickets of mangrove trees that jutted out of great pools and lagoons of sea water, her mind wandered briefly to the time she'd visited a similar salt-water swamp on Earth to see the sharks and rays that lived among roots of the strange trees.
    Absently, Coughlin wondered if these pools held similar beasts as the lemon sharks back home.
    She quickly perished the thought; focusing instead on the small lifeboat that was settled quietly in waist deep water a hundred meters away. It nearly blended into the background, shrouded by a thick fog and the heavy darkness provided by the mangrove trees, but the hard metal was difficult to miss once she focused on it.
    Without a word, Coughlin pointed at the ship and all three fireteams moved through the murky surroundings with surprising silence given the wet environment. They formed up around the ship in a triangle that encompassed the little ship.
    "Alpha team." she whispered into the mic. "You're on breaching duty. If it's closed, we don't want anything nasty waiting for us inside."
    "Won't be necessary, sir."
    A moment later, she saw why.
    From their initial landing position, the little lifeboat appeared fine. Unpowered and dark, but no worse for wear short of sitting in a shallow pool of salt water.
    The rear end was another matter.
    The entire rear of the little ship where the rear-hatch should have been was demolished. The metal had been pushed and shredded outwards as if there had been some sort of explosion.
    No. Not an explosion. The edges were too ragged. Too uneven and twisted. And there were bits of flesh and gore splattered across the broken edges of the bent metal.
    "Looks like something ripped its way out." Greer commented; reflecting her own thought process.
    The question was: was it still somewhere inside?
    The ship was by no means large and it was obvious that something had come OUT of the ship, but that didn't mean that it didn't find the ship's interior more suitable than the surrounding swamps. Underestimating whatever these things were could get them all killed.
    For all she knew, it had stepped out, changed its mind, and was hiding just inside the darkness of the downed lifeboat waiting for an unsuspecting marine to bumble their way in.
    "Bravo and Charlie, secure the ramp. Alpha, clear the ship."
    Again, the groups moved seamlessly. Bravo and Charlie appeared on either side of Coughlin at the bottom of the ramp as Alpha moved deliberately up towards the shredded hole in the ship's rear. Four chest-lamps ignited the dark interior and the blood streaked walls and seats. However, with the exception of surprising amount of dried blood and some serious structural damage, the lifeboat was empty.
    There weren't even bodies.
    "Empty, Staff Sergeant." Bullock confirmed.
    "Empty?"
    "Whatever party happened here, we missed it." Brick agreed.
    "B'ylad'..." Mikhailov muttered just loud enough for her mic to pick up.
    Coughlin glanced around, taking in her surroundings once more. The deep, penetrating darkness of the forested night. The thick, winding trunks of the mangrove trees. The heavy fog. The salt water.
    All the hiding places.
    And then, as she stared, she saw a glow. It was hard to see through the fog, but against the dark backdrop, she could make out the faint lights from the nearby town.
    Calenburg.
    Could whatever this creature have been seen those lights and moved towards it? Would it have been attracted to civilization? Or would it have sensed the light and, like a beast fleeing from fire, turned and gone the other way?
    Coughlin looked over her should in the opposite direction. Another thicket of mangrove trees and probably even deeper salt water marshes lay there.
    She really wished she knew what this organism was.
    "Alright guys, let's find this son of a bitch. Calenburg is just a little over a couple miles from here. Myself and Alpha team will take the dropship and skim the area between here and there to see what we can find. In the meantime, Bravo and Charlie, you're to sweep this area for anything that might point us in the right direction."
    "What exactly are we looking for, Staff Sergeant?" Kuroba asked cautiously.
    "Something big, ugly, and mean enough that the brass don't want to tell us what it is."
    A few brows arched as she and Alpha made their way away from the ruined lifeboat and back towards the dropship.
    "And if we find it?" Dixon chimed in.
    "You do what marines do best, Specialist."
    "Ooo-rah." he mouthed with a smirk.

Survivors - Part 2

    Cisneros felt as if he was frozen in place.
    His muscles were locked and some baser part of his mind had kicked into overdrive. Despite the triple-state glass and a well manicured sense of superiority, some instinctual piece of him froze in terror.
    "What-?" was all he managed.
    In front of him, behind the seemingly too-thin safety glass, a monster lay across a massive surgical table.
    No.
    Not one surgical table.
    Several of them. All hastily thrown together to form some semblance of a flat surface where the scientists could work.
    The creature was quite large. At least a couple meters tall and several meters long not counting the muscular tail, it could easily rival some of the large African species of Earth. However, unlike those more benevolent herbivores, this ting was designed for carnage.
    Four heavy set legs with taloned feet were curled up under its dead frame. Long, sickle like blades sprouted from thin but powerful looking 'arms' from its thick torso. Its eyes were covered in heavy ridges and everything about its head seemed to slope into a gaping jaw filled with multiples rows of shark-like teeth. And the entire thing was covered in hulking plates of black, chitinous armor that looked like they could stop an rocket.
    Men and women in lab coats poked and prodded at the corpse, but despite a sneaking fear that the monster would arise and attack them all, it laid silent upon its bloody table.
    "What-" Cisneros began again as he mentally rebuilt his composure. "-is it?"
    "We don't know." Dr. Patang responded apologetically. "We've never seen anything like it."
    "What do we know about it?" he asked without looking at the good doctor.
    Cisneros studied the thing for a long moment. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.
    "We're still working on an official analysis."
    Cisneros glanced over and the Doctor who visibly cringed a little. He considered throwing his weight and demanding a better answer of the little asskisser, but thought better of it.
    "Humor me."
    "Apparently the team was getting odd results. I've been with you so I haven't seen the most up to date..."
    Cisneros sighed and continued to watch the men and women work.
    "Dr. Hagashi must have been out of his mind." he commented with a hint of annoyance.
    "Sir?"
    "I just can't imagine why they would have brought this thing aboard. I don't doubt it was an exciting find, but look at it."
    As if in response, Dr. Patang joined him in staring at the mound of terror.
    At the same time, the door on the far end of the room slid open and a short, lump of a woman clad in a white lab coat emerged.
    "I mean, that thing looks like it could tear a squad of marines in half without breaking a sweat. Why in the hell would they take it aboard? Why not study it on the surface? Or tag it for later examination by a more qualified team?"
    "Perhaps-" the woman interjected. "-because it wasn't that size when they acquired our little friend in there."
    Cisneros glowered at the woman's interruption but his expression quickly softened.
    "Samantha." he said with a smile.
    "Armando."
    "I wasn't aware you were on this project." Cisneros regarded.
    "Then you probably aren't doing a good job as Assistant Director." she chided with a playful grin.
    "Dr. Connel." Patang said with respect to the woman. "With all due respect, what do you mean? Are you suggesting it grew within a matter of hours?"
    "In one sense."
    Both men continued to stare at her, expecting more.
    "Tell me, Dr. Patang, how would you classify that creature in there?" Dr. Connel asked.
    Dr. Patang considered for a moment.
    "I'm not sure. It definitely appears to be carnivorous in nature. Omnivous at the absolute least."
    "And the genus?"
    "Demented centaur?" Cisneros offered.
    Samantha giggled and Cisneros allowed himself a smile at his old friend's amusement.
    "What if I told you that it was parasitic?" she asked after a moment.
    Cisneros stared at the monster sprawled across the operating tables. Considered the sheer size of the thing.
    "You're saying that creature in there is some sort of a parasite? For what? What the hell would it feed on?"
    "That is not the primary organism. I was referring to this."
    Dr. Connel produced from her jacket pocket a small glass jar about the size of a nectarine. She held it up to the light and it was clearly filled with some sort of blood. It was a nice deep red with the exception of several dozen large, black globules that floated around in the viscous liquid.
    Cisneros stared at the goo, trying to identify the shapes in the blood. It was only after a long moment that he realized the globes were creatures.
    "So this is our culprit?" Cisneros asked with burgeoning fascination.
    Here and there, one of the globes would unfurl into a small, worm like creature. Their appearance reminded him of the beast on the table, nothing but hard bits and sharp edges, but on a notably smaller scale and resembling a half inch caterpillar.
    "Indeed. I think the team from the Icarus found these things on the surface and didn't know what they had until it was too late.
    Before his eyes, one of the worms unfolded and zipped around the blood jar at a surprising speed. It swirled about for a few seconds and, finding no exit, curled up on itself again.
    Cisneros glanced back again at the monster on the table.
    "So tell me, Dr. Connel: what do those-" he said pointing a finger at the jar. "-have to do with that?" he motioned over his shoulder.
    "I'm so glad you asked." she responded with a surprisingly threatening smile and motioned towards the door to the lab. "Let me show you."

Survivors - Part 1

    Blip. Blip. Blip.
    Assistant Director Cisneros stared absent-minded at the acrid liquid as it dripped, drop by drop, down into his mug. The local crony here, Dr. Patang, had tried to convince him that this was this was the best cup of joe on the Daedalus.
    While Cisneros didn’t doubt the good doctor’s honesty; the little brown-nosing tool was too self-interested to not give full disclosure. However he did doubt that the liquid shit dripping out of the archaic machine counted as coffee.
    And he damn sure knew it didn’t smell like it.
    Cisneros glanced around the room as he waited for the stinking drink to finish brewing.
    All around him, cheap furniture, bad walling, dirty carpet, or gunmetal plating. Here and there an uncomfortable chair sat or a half-assed painting hung on the wall; really retracting from the environment more than they gave. It gave him the feeling of being in a lower-end office that had been shoved into a metal box.
    And really, it wasn’t far from the truth.
    Built cheap and built big, the Daedalus was one of two floating laboratories utilized by the corporation’s Xenobiology department. It housed just over two thousand biologists, botanists, chemists, computer experts, robotics technicians, and god knows what else plus the staff and crew that kept the entire dump heap in the air. It wasn’t the fastest or nicest ship in the galaxy, but with her sister, the Icarus, the pair of ships were some of the biggest and probably some of the only used as mobile laboratories and processing cities.
    At least until a month ago.
    Now the Daedalus flew alone in its lazy orbit around the Kaprelli system’s deep violet sun surrounded by the silence of space.
    Cisneros reached down and plucked up the now full mug. He took a swig only to grimace at the sour flavor. It tasted just about as good as it had smelt and, based on the look of shock and horror on Dr. Patang's face, he was glad his distaste with the drink was not lost on the good doctor.
    "I'm so sorry, sir." he quickly shot out. "I swear, it really is the best on the ship. The company doesn't really consider fresh cups to be pri-"
    "Enough, Doctor." Cisneros said flatly. "You'll forgive me if I tell you that I'm not in the mood right now."
    "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Dr. Patang said as he adorned that same, placid, stupid smile he'd worn since Cisneros arrived eight hours ago.
    "I don't have a great deal of time." Cisneros continued in the same, no-bullshit tone. "So why don't we get this little tour started so I can get on with a very long list of other things that need to get done."
    "Of course, sir." Dr. Patang repeated again and motioned towards the door of the grimy little kitchen.
    The pair made their way through the halls of the Daedalus at a leisurely pace as Dr. Patang prattled on about meaningless inanities. Cisneros could not care less. His visit here was far from routine and he had no interest in listening to small talk.
    He wanted to hear about their findings.
    Of course, it was probably sheer confidentiality that was keeping Dr. Patang from prattling on about that. Still, Cisneros had a lean in his step and they made their way towards the C-Deck labs with more speed than any other visit would have been afforded.
    The mystery of Icarus's destruction the prior month had nagged at him since it happened. And now he might get some answers.
    Originally, it came as a complete shock. The ship had just performed a relatively routine stop to a newly discovered world known as 'Bruni'. The planet was mildly interesting for the fact it was, by all intents and purposes, considered a jungle planet despite its severe climate; prone both to blistering heat and destructive electrical storms.
    Within a matter of hours from the stop, an SOS had been issued from the Icarus.
    An hour after that, the ship was flown directly into a sun with a very small contingent of its population escaping in lifeboats.
    The incident had bothered Cisneros for the month since it had occurred. Now, with several of the life boats captured and brought aboard the Daedalus, his curiosity was peaked as to what the scientists had discovered.
    Most notably because there hadn't been any reported survivors so far.
    So whatever they had found clearly wasn't human. Or, at least, not living ones.
    Dr. Patang offered a single open eye to the scanner next to the C-Deck air locks while simultaneously holding a thumb to a reader and a badge to a scanner. C-Deck, like a number of the locations on the Daedalus, was high security and set up with multiple security points. Additionally, the labs were completely sealed off from the rest of the ship in what was, for lack of a better analogy, a steel box with a single airlock that led into the ship primary.
    This fact only added to Cisneros' surprise when the heavy lead and steel door slid aside to reveal four hardskinned marines standing at attention, rifles ready, standing in the four corners of the inner airlock.
    He glanced at Dr. Patang with an obvious look of surprise.
    "We have...concerns." the doctor said flatly, dropping the cheerful, tour-guide tone he'd been using since Cisneros arrived.
    Cisneros' eyes narrowed but he said nothing. As much of a brown-nosing little shit as Dr. Patang had been, the presence of marines suggested they had found something much more exciting than a few corpses in a lifeboat.
    The two men submitted to a thorough search and ID by one of the marines; a man who identified himself as Sergeant Holmes. They were then led to the next room: a hastily thrown together decontamination room that the inner airlock would have normally been used for had it not been filled with combat armor and firearms.
    Once deloused, they both made their way down a long hallway lined by observation chambers.
    "Now that we're out of ear shot, would you care to share what exactly your team found on the life boats, Doctor?"
    "We're not sure." he said, once again adopting that slight lit to his voice again, but not nearly to the degree he had been earlier.
    "You're not sure?" Cisneros echoed after rolling the possibilities about in his mind.
    "Whatever they are is biologic. But after that, it's unlike anything we've found before."
    Cisneros said nothing as he was led through a maze of corridors. He could see scientists working in labs on any number of different experiments; however Dr. Patang shot right by them.
    At the far end of one hall, the Doctor approached a heavy door labeled 'XL-322". Directly below it. "Restricted Personnel Only." and a keypad. The Doctor entered in an unseen code, scanned his badge again, and motioned for Cisneros to enter.
    They were standing in the viewing area of an operating theater with a door on the far end of the room. The glass was artificially dimmed and Cisneros suddenly had a fleeting sense of claustrophobia in the dark room.
    "This is all well and interesting, Doctor. But can we can on with the theatrics?"
    "Sorry, sir. As I said, sir. We're not sure what we found." Dr. Patang continued as he raised the lights and revealed the laboratory behind the triple-state glass and the monster within.
    Cisneros took an unconscious step back from the now clear glass.  
    What the hell WAS that?
    He felt his heart jump into his throat and, for the first in a very long time, he felt a sudden wash of fear fall over him.
    "But if you've got any ideas..." Dr. Patang said with the first snark the Assistant Director had heard from him, "We're all ears."

Heat - Part 3

    The thing, shoved carefully into the back of the spacecraft, began to chitter softly as it pulled itself forward from the back of the cabin.
    "George?" Lelena called again before coughing against the smoke and heat.
    She was far enough away that she could barely make him out through the billowing smoke. With the flames extinguished, the clouds dominated the area, choking and blinding them both.
    But George didn't notice. His attention was in front of him.
    Sharp, sickle-like blades, tipping the edges of long, gangly limbs hooked themselves around the exterior door. They dug into the metal with ease. The beast pulled itself forward with a sticky, sliding sound and a soft, chittering hiss.
    "There you are!" Lelena shouted, squinting through the smoke. "I've called the marshals and told them what happened. They're on their way here!"
    George glanced at his wife for just the briefest of seconds and then back at the horror unfolding from the ship's entrance. He didn't dare tear his eyes away from the monstrosity for a moment more.
    And Lelena noticed it.
    "Honey?" she asked.
    Aside from the scythe-like arms, it walked on four legs; giving George the impression of a twisted centaur. Powerful jaws opened and closed behind slime covered teeth that were hidden under deadly, fanged mandibles. A long, lashing tail smashed against the inside of the craft and further mutilated the soldiers' bodies inside.
    And those eyes.
    Deep and cavernous, like staring into pits. They glew softly in the black smoke, only drawing more attention to their soulless gaze. A foreign, terrible intelligence glinted at the edges of their ebony pools.
    hiiiiiiissssaaragragragRAGRAGRAG
    The creature seemed almost to laugh as it unfolded itself just outside of the craft's door. It was as tall as the ship, a good ten feet. George couldn't help but wonder how the beast had fit into the cramped space, much less with a half dozen armored soldiers.
    BBOOMIARNG!
    The gunshot ricocheted off the thing's carpaced head and it let out a deafening screech. George jumped in surprise as the creature shook itself and clawed at its face where it had been hit. While there was no blood, there was a streak across its hard shell.
    He glanced back to see Lelena, sidearm in hand, with a look of terror and determination on her face.
    "RUN, STUPID!" she yelled.
    And so George ran.
    Lelena took two more shots before they both took off towards the fields. The shots were drastically less effective than before and it didn't even seem to notice the third bullet. They bounced off like the thing was made of solid plastisteel. It locked eyes on its attacker and pursued.
    They were just climbing the wooden fence when it began to barrel after them.
    The ground shook and shuddered with each step. It made George think of a runaway train and, not a moment later, it proved just how true that analogy was.
    Lelena and George had just entered the endless rows of corn a mere seconds after passing the fence, when the beast caught up and went through the barrier. The ironwood splintered like it were made out of loosely-held together toothpicks and George felt more than a couple embed themselves in his neck, back, and arms as shrapnel was sent flying.
    The beast barely slowed down.
    It slammed by them, throwing them to either side. George hit the ground with a soft crack. He grimaced and yelped, wondering if had broken something, only to be buried a moment later by a rain of corn stalks as the creature's tail cut away entire swaths of crop.
     He was about to push himself back up when he heard it slide to a stop. The loud crashing suggesting that it took half the field with it.
    For a breath, all was silent. Then, slowly, it begin to tromp its way back in his direction.
    George elected not to unbury himself.
    There was, of course, the chance that the thing knew exactly where he was. Or Lelena. But, covered in corn and hidden under the hot, scratchy stalks, hiding seemed a better idea.
    He could hear it moving around. It was so heavy, but moved with surprisingly grace. A constant, low hiss seemed to be interjected only by a trilling purr that punctuated a soft clawing at the felled corn.
    It sounded like it was hunting for them. And if it was hunting, it didn't know where they were. At least to a degree.
    As the thing moved closer, he thought about his wife; hidden somewhere unseen nearby, and muttered a silent prayer to no one in particular. He held his breath as the beast stepped directly over him.
    That was when he heard the click of his wife's gun cock.
    And so did the creature.

Lost - Part 3

    CLANG!
    Cl-BANG! BONG! BANG!
    Cecilia's fall was short lived. Sliding down the cold metal, she found herself ricocheting off the sides of the tunnel. Slamming this way and that, she tumbled downward for what felt like an eternity but only lasted for some twenty or thirty seconds; smashing against her broken ribs and almost assuredly breaking some more bones along the way as her already abused body was beaten about like a undignified pinball.
    She came to stop at the bottom after a short, vertical fall straight down onto something surprisingly soft and squishy.
    Not that she noticed.
    Curled in on herself, all she could do was wail. Her sobs heaving her entire body and only making the pain from the fall that much worse.
    Losing her hearing not ten minutes ago was stressful and a bit painful. This was all pain. Lots and lots of pain.
    Her ribs felt as though several knives had been jabbed into her torso and her hands mindlessly wandered to see if she actually had been stabbed by something. She wasn't. On top of that she found that she couldn't quite turn her head and her left arm didn't seem to be responding the way it was supposed to and didn't seem to be sitting in her shoulder correctly. Anything didn't feel directly broken or dislocated started to feel swollen and her joints began to feel locked.
    Cecilia thought this might be what it would be like to have been run through a blender.
    The room she was in smelt odd. It was like rotten eggs with a hint of fresh manure that had just started to age long enough that the scent wasn't as sharp or nauseating. The ground was warm and wet to the touch; with a little give but more elastic then anything else. Around her, there was the sound of movement; squishy, sloshy sounds that didn't sound human.
    Still...
    "...help..." she barely whispered.
    But no help came.
    There seemed to be a stirring of activity. Some movement far off.
    Too far, she thought. 
    And so, curled in on her self, her body weakly heaving from the abuse, as she passed out from the pain.

    Cecilia was awoken in a start by the sound of pulse rifles.
    In a second of panic, her hands snapped up to her ears to protect them from the roaring booms, but she had forgotten about her left arm. It barely responded and, instead, sent shooting pain up her spine that took her breath away from a moment.
    This, with the fear of the rifles and the sheer shock of everything else, was too much.
    She screamed. Loud, long, and hard.
    It was a horrible, desperate cry. Primal in its intensity and singular in its purpose. It begged anyone, any human that could hear it, anyone of the same species: please help me.
    Save me.
    The pulse rifles, still loud, seemed to ebb. As if someone had stopped firing.
    "Did you hear that?"
    "I think we've got a survivor!" Cecilia could barely hear a young woman shouting.
    Yes. YES! she thought, her mind begging her to find shelter. To find her own kind and escape this nightmare.
    She tried to push up off the ground. Tried to escape.
    She couldn't.
    Her left arm wouldn't support her weight and, when trying to push off with just her right, she found that the pain in her ribs was too much. She screamed again just from the effort.
    "Over there!" a man shouted.
    Cecilia tried and failed again. Tears were streaming down her face as she fought against the agony. She could hear the roar of the rifles growing louder and the sounds of men and women running.
    Along with something else.
    There were roars and hisses now. They seemed to come from the very walls. To unfold from the darkness around her like shadows given some monstrous kind of life. They must have passed right over her while she was out cold earlier. Or they just never cared about her to begin with.
    Now they cared.
    "I think I see someone!" the woman shouted.
    "HELP!" Cecilia managed to scream before doubling over on herself again. She coughed and her mouth filled with the startling taste of copper. Blood.
    "We're coming!" someone else shouted.
    "There!"
    "Son of a bitch! More!"
    The hissing at Cecilia's sides changed to violent roars that were cut short with the blaze of pulse rifles some short distance away. She felt their warm blood splash across her back and hair and the sticky, slick feeling made her retch. A half-second later, two heavy thuds shook the ground she laid on and did not get back up.
    "Cover me!" the woman yelled. "I'm going for her!"
    "We've got you!"
    The marine sloshed and squished her way towards Cecilia and, a moment later, she felt warm, soft hands wrapping around her good arm.
    "I've got you, honey." the woman said with surprising tenderness. "Come on."
    "I...I can't." she sobbed. "Hurt...my ribs. My arm."
    "I know, sweetie. I know." the woman said softly tugging her up to a sitting position. "But we can't leave you here. They're going to destroy the ship. We have to get you off."
    Cecilia, who had been curled in on herself, her eyes shut, finally glanced up in the marine's direction.
    The marine gasped when she did.
    "Oh sweetie...how are you down here?"
    "Fell."
    "Down the air shaft?"
    "Mmm."
    The echo of pulse rifles intensified suddenly.
    "We gotta go!" the man yelled.
    "Gordo! Rifle slung! We need a lift!"
    "You got it, Sarge!"
    The ground shook as someone else came running; his armor and weapon clanking and clattering along.
    "Holy shit." the man began. "Is she...?"
    "Obviously." the woman said shortly. "She's pretty banged up and I don't trust her to be able to get out of here easy. Gonna need you to carry her."
    "How did she get down here?" he asked shortly. "How is she even still be alive if she's..."
    "Not now." the woman barked.
    "Sir." the man said shortly before leaning down next to Cecilia.
    She felt a second pair of hands wrap around her. Bigger. Warmer. Cecilia unconsciously leaned into them and sniffled.
    "This is gonna hurt, darlin'." the big man said. "So I'm sorry in advance.
    All at once, Cecilia felt herself leave the ground. Pain shot through her as the marine scooped her up and she screamed in response. The man cooed her softly and cradled her to his chest and she sobbed.
    But, her unconscious mind countered, she was safe. He was big and warm. He smelt of gunpowder and sweat and grime. His arms were large and hairy and muscled. She could hear his heart pounding, heavy and steady, in his chest. He was one of many marines with their guns and their grit and their determination to keep her alive. He was human and he would keep her safe.
    She felt the sobs calm slightly and she held tight to his armor.
    "Fall back!" the woman shouted.
    "Let's go!" the man yelled in unison.
    Cecilia held tight as they moved. They were surrounded on all sides by the other marines; seven others from what she could tell. They moved in unison, fleeing the hive as quickly as possible. And, as they moved, she heard whispers.
    "Did you see her eyes?"
    "My god...how did she get down here?"
    "Do you think they did that to her?"
    "Enough chatter!" the woman barked.
    "Sir," an unknown male voice said, "We only have five minutes til the last dropship departs."
    "Then let's not miss our bus." the big man holding her said.
    "MARINES! WE ARE LEAVING!" the woman shouted. A moment later, the entire group took off at a run.

===

(Hello Lovelies, I'm glad you've been enjoying this little romp. There will be one more after this and then we will see about returning to 'Kappa in my Closet' along with a few other things! All I can say in my defense is that I was inspired because of the upcoming 'Alien: Covenant movie. Not gonna lie, I'm enjoying my version better. haha! See you soon.)

Alien Resurrection Novel Review

Last, but certainly not least, we reach the fourth and final of the official installments of the Alien franchise. One could make an argument about "Prometheus" and "Alien Covenant" (to be released), however I think I'll actually discuss the book reviews themselves in a secondary post so that the review isn't inundated with nonsense.

Before we start, I want to clarify something that I didn't initially realize when I grabbed the book but recognized as I dug in. That is: "Alien Resurrection" has a different author. While the initial three stories were told by Alan Dean Foster, a true veteran in the industry when it comes to novelizations, the fourth one was done by A.C. Crispin. And, having just plowed through the previous three, I have to say that you could tell (in a good way!)

So, let's dig in.

For those of you that are unfamiliar with the Alien series, Alien Resurrection was the last of the "Quadrilogy" as it was affectionately known. Picking up several hundred years after the last installment, Ripley was dead and gone. That is, until scientists, utilizing DNA recovered from "Fury 161" are able to clone and recreate her. There's only one problem: her DNA has become intermingled with that of the Alien creature she fought so diligently against. Now, she is less than human; more of a monster that is linked both physically and mentally with the true prize the scientists hoped to acquire: a genetically recreated alien queen. But, as it would with these monsters, all hell breaks loose soon after a pirate crew arrives on the top secret science vessel. The few survivors must ban together to get out all while the ship barrels towards Earth with its monstrous cargo in tow.

The first thing that I noticed, as I touched on before, was the difference in the author. As I've mentioned in all three previous iterations, Alan Dean Foster has a deep and affectionate love for detail. Lots of detail. Occasionally, way too much detail. As it stands, detail is not necessarily a bad thing. However, sometimes the fine-toothed comb approach proves more of a hindrance than anything else, particularly in the first novel, when it brings the story grinding to a halt. As it were, the first three all definitely have a 'touch-and-go' story pace that resembles someone pumping the gas in a car. Alien Resurrection faces no such issues.

The fourth and final installment flows smooth as butter. While I technically still like Foster's "Aliens" novel better overall (primarily due to content versus style), I would be disrespecting Crispin's work by not recognizing that everything simply flows better. The book is a page turner if ever there was one.

The next thing that stood out compared to the previous installments was the similarity to the original screenplay. While this sounds weird, all previous iterations of the stories have featured severe departures from the canon. Things like "aliens with eyes" and "poisonous stinger barbs" are just some of the immediate thoughts, however all of Foster's novels feature information that is directly contradictory to established information from the films. Instead, Crispin sticks pretty solidly to the original story with only a few addendums that explore character motivation and background. Side characters that aren't overly explored in the original movie, such as Distephano the soldier and Purvis the hapless miner, are examined more deeply; making them more relateable and understandable characters vs. their relatively cardboard cutout design in the film.

Overall, the book is a good read. It's smooth and delivers and exciting and thrilling story that keeps you flipping pages to see what happens next. If you've read the previous books, its a good departure from the previous style. If you've seen the movies, it'll be an enjoyable translation of the onscreen action with just a little sugar to sweeten it up. Even if you haven't read/seen the others, I would definitely recommend this even as a standalone title.

Alien 3 Novel Review

Continuing on our trend of reviewing the last few 'Alien' novels, it's time now for Alien 3! (I promise, we're almost done and will move on to different novels shortly).

To begin, let me say that this actually turned out notably better than I really expected. To many who know the original movies, 'Alien 3' is generally considered the weakest of the group. Out of place, a little slow, a little boring, and just generally an all around 'meh' experience, I don't think I can name anyone who claims 'Alien 3' to be their favorite in the series. However, I'm happy to say the book did a bit more for me than the movie adaptation.

For those that are unfamiliar with the film, 'Alien 3' picks up almost immediately after the events of the 'Aliens' story. The survivors of the incident on Acheron are in cryogenic sleep and on their way back to Earth when disaster strikes. The sleepers are jettisoned in an escape pod and land on a nearby planet: Fiorina 161. The unfortunate part? 'Fury 161' as it's called is a largely uninhabitable planet utilized as a Penitentiary. Upon waking on this desolate world, Ripley finds that the disaster that destroyed her ship might not have been an accident and that she might have brought something else with her down to 'Fury 161'. Now, with 'the company' en route, racing to collect the Alien specimen and silence any witnesses, Ripley is in a race against time to kill the creature that is picking off the prisoners one by one while realizing that she herself might have brought more than one Alien with her to the planet...

As I mentioned before, I was largely surprised to find I enjoyed the book a great deal more than a movie. Many felt that the original film was unnecessary, drab, and failed to really do anything interesting with the formula. While I can't argue against the fact that the film simply feels like a rehash of the first movie's 'picking-a-group-off-one-by-one' concept, there are a few things the book did very well.

First, we had a large exploration of Fury 161 and the prisoners who live on the planet. While we got a few bits of information in the film regarding the planet being a 'shit hole' for lack of a better term and that there is a lice infestation, we really didn't see more than that. In the book, there's a greater focus on what the planet is like, what drew Weyland Yutani to mine there, what creatures live on the planet, how the facility itself works, and what day to day troubles all of the above afford the prisoners. Likewise, all of the prisoners get a more in-depth examination. While I doubt you could name more than a couple of the prisoners in the film, you are allowed to get a feel for a many of them this time around. The one that really grabbed my attention was Gollick, who plays a pretty big role during the Alien Hunt later in the book but who is largely ignored during the film with the exception of a couple key scenes.

Likewise, the actual interaction with the alien and the sheer panic of the Alien Hunt during the mount and climax of the book are fantastically well done. While the film by no means failed to deliver in these scenes, the book did well to portray the panic and chaos in these moments when everything that could go wrong did. Likewise, Ripley's odd 'experience' with the Aliens is delved into a little more deeply in a way the movie can't simply by adding a greater understanding for the senses and thoughts that would be involved here.

In short, I was happy to have read this one. I was blown away that I my least favorite movie actually proved to be a better read than the first book's adaptation. Worth a shot if you enjoy the series.

Man of a Thousand Worlds

There once was a man
From a thousand different worlds
Whose feet had felt the sand of a thousand beaches
And whose face was kissed by the sun

Now please don't forget
He was not the fastest man alive
For that was Usain Allen
Whose speed was bar none

Nor was he the strongest ever
Brian Kent held that privilege
Strong as an ox and powerful to boot
He could easily lift a ton

Now please don't claim
He was the smartest man known
That was Albert Strange
For so many galactic mysteries, he had undone

He was not the best pilot
Nor the best shot around
Oliver Yaegar held both those titles
And he'd shoot you just for fun

He was not the most devout
Of that I have no doubt
Lady Constantine certainly knew best
Afterall, she started as a nun

No, this man had traveled
And seen and explored
He knew he was not the best at anything
Not by a long run

And yet, so many turned to him
So many asked him questions
So many wanted to know
Just how he'd begun

He had given Usain his first shoes
And Brian his first weights
He'd talked for hours with Albert
And given Oliver his first gun

He'd wondered upon the universe
about how it fit into a plan
While it helped Lady Constantine settle down
He was never done

No, he wasn't the fastest or the strongest
The smartest or the best
But everyone knew his sparkling eyes
His old grey hairs and his love of a pun

He might be the wisest
Or so many said
But he simply didn't agree
Surely he'd find another one

If anything, he was the most traveled
The man from a thousand worlds
He had experienced so much
More than anyone

But in the end, he was only a man
A man with a love of the worlds
He didn't care for titles
For their beauty could stun

So let the strong be strong
And let the fast be fast
It didn't matter if he had a title
He was already someone

===

(Hello Lovelies. I hope you enjoyed my terrible little poem. I intend to tweak it and play with it to make it a little more manageable, but I really liked the concept for this story. If and whenever I am satisfied with it, I'll probably commission my wife to help me make it into a children's book. I feel like pictures will make all the difference here. That said, I hope you have a wonderful day!)

I'm only Human...

Hello Lovelies,

The other day, I had an interesting question directed my way. I have actually had this question asked a number of times over the last few years, but it's one I never quite understood what the answer actually was. I've reflected on it for a while and think I've come to an answer.

In short: What is your obsession with Aliens?

First to clarify: For the longest time, I've had a veritable hunger for just about anything other worldly and powerful. The Xenomorphs from Aliens and Yautja from Predator are definitely two of my favorite 'big baddies', but I've maintained a fascination for as long as I can remember with monsters, demons, creatures, dragons, zombies, ghosts, vampires...you name it and I probably studied and or obsessed over it during some period of my life. That's not to say this is hugely uncommon, particularly for a literature nerd who reads, writes, and plays dungeons and dragons. But I never understood why.

At first, I thought my like of any of these given creatures, alien or otherwise, stemmed from a sense of power. Of seeing something strong or strange and so unlike those around me. But, after many years of playing with this concept, I realized that the concept of a perfect, powerful character was incredibly boring.

What made them interesting was using them as a foil. A twisted mirror.

I've realized that my love of different threats for lack of a better term, be it paranormal, alien, or otherwise, stemmed not from the creatures themselves but the reflection of humanity that was shown back. What are zombies without survivors that are making it against all odds? What is an alien loose on a ship without men or women fighting to regain the control that is rightfully theirs? What is a dragon without the knight who slays it?

One of my favorite stories as a child and still one of my favorite stories to this day is Beowulf. When introduced to it, I found I was one of three people in my entire class that even liked it and I was the only one who loved it. "I was too simple!" some said. "It's so black and white!" others said. But that was the beauty of it...it wasn't something twisted or strange. It was a story of a man overcoming a monster. The triumph of humanity over the wiles of the world. At least until he got eaten in his old age, but what is the act of being human if not being bound by mortality?

Surely, there are stories out there that expand against these basic concepts. Grendel is an excellent example compared to Beowulf. But I ask you: "Why do we empathize more with Grendel in his own book than we do in Beowulf?" In short, he is given his humanity. A state of being. Of thought and emotion and a scale that we can weigh ourselves against.

Now, I'm likely not saying anything particularly new. Plenty of people have come to similar realizations but there's one thing that I feel gets skipped over often. While it's very easy to paint the canvas with the brush of "reflection" based on observations of mortality, morality, and a basic man compared to beast motif, there's something that seems to be forgotten: imagination.

No matter the beast, the monster, the alien, whatever...all of it stems from the imagination of man. Many can argue that some stories and superstitions have a basis in nature (creatures like a Werewolf), a basis in true human monstrousness (like a Wendigo), and many more...but I ask: "How many of these things do we actually deal with?" Fiction, by definition, is outside of reality. Whether or not something turns out to be true is up for debate, yet everything supernatural, paranormal, alien, monstrous, etc. has a basis not necessarily in reality but in the power of our imagination.

Everything ever. Everything you've ever known and seen and loved and thought of and read and watched and imagined. Everything was born of and created on our little blue and green marble in the sea of nothingness that is space. While they might be formed from observations of worlds beyond, even those observations require leaps of imagination until we can actively get there. Nothing is from outside our own realm of creation. No matter what we find, similar or not to our 'monsters', everything we've ever known or imagined about the world came from us. It came from humanity and their understand of the world, the universe, and themselves.

And I'll be damned if I don't think that's the most amazing thing.

It's incredibly easy to be calloused and cynical; to let yourself swim in the rivers of hate, animosity, and ignorance that have been poisoned by a select few terrible people. But when you really stop and look around and consider what WE have done. We as a species have accomplished so much! We have built and created and helped and done more than you can imagine...more than you could even learn in a single lifetime. No matter what you believe, consider that humans have risen from the dirt and now have their eyes on the stars. On other planets and suns. On other places who have never heard of us or even considered creatures like us.

So, to come full circle: Why do I love Aliens so much? Because it shows me a distant reflection of that which we will become. Survivors. Explorers. Humans who will see the light of another sun and will bend the very fabric of space and the horror of the worst monsters we can imagine to our will. We will be greater than the sum of our parts and those monsters out there are nothing compared to us.

My Queen

    I have a little problem.
    Emphasis on little.
    Being a fan of a certain Alien-related series, I decided to buy a toy for myself online. A 6-inch, vinyl action figure of an alien-queen. I was so excited when she arrived! I pulled her out and realized in an instant my luck.
    She was a misprint.
    Now, I know what you're thinking: "Why would you want a misprint?"
    Maybe it's just the collector in me, but I love misprints. They stand out. They're odd. They're weird. And, should I ever want to sell her, she'll be worth drastically more because of her oddity than a regular figure would.
    Initially, I thought the misprint had to do with the fact she wasn't colored quite right. That her teeth were the wrong shade of paint.
    What I didn't realize was that misprint extended to the fact she doesn't realize she's a toy.
    I first found out after I had taken her out of her box and put her on the mantle. I came home from work later in the day only to find her missing. I searched everywhere high and low in my house only to find her stalking about my laundry room.
    At first I was terrified. What evil voodoo bullshit have I unleashed?! I thought to myself. But then I realized she was 6 inches tall and made of vinyl. I could punt her bitch ass if need be and it seemed like she knew it too. She regarded me with the same level of care one might regard a particularly nasty bug, but perhaps for that same reason, she didn't antagonize me.
    I did some research, and I realized that it was probably because of a misprint.
    Little did I know, toys in their natural state know they are toys. They recognize that they aren't supposed to move about and they shouldn't be found sneaking around my ventilation system. But with misprints, like my little queen, sometimes things break. They don't quite understand and instead they think that they are what they represent.
    Meaning now I have to deal her being a little bitch.
    I really wasn't sure what to do initially. I was scared she'd do something terrible to me in my sleep or it would be some sort of horror-movie trope where I find myself locked in a dark room with it trying to get me. But once again, I remembered she was 6 inches and made of vinyl. Once again, my fear turned to mild annoyance.
    So now I just have to deal with her.
    Most of the times, I'll simply find her stalking about. She'll regard me with an angry hiss and I'll just slide her out of the way with my foot. Occasionally she'll go missing only to out herself by banging around my ventilation system. I think she's trying to be sneaky, but what can I say? She's got a big head and sucks at her job. Once in a while she'll try to make a nest.
    The nests are always the funniest.
    I came home once and wasn't greeted with my cursory 6 inch monster. Not only that, my fridge was left wide open for some reason and a number of my other action figures were missing. I immediately started looking around, worried that someone had broken in and robbed me.
    Instead, I found her tucked up behind my dryer.
    Using a great deal of scotch tape that she'd found, the queen had taped my other action figures to the walls around her. On top of that, she had used the dozen eggs I just gotten from the grocery store and set each egg up in front of the other toys. And then she just sat there waiting like she expected something more to happen.
    While it was hilarious, I also had to replace the eggs and she kept fighting with me when I tried to free the "cocooned" toys.
    And so that's what I have to deal with.
    More than once, I've considered just getting rid of her. Burning her or breaking her or something of that ilk. My girlfriend hates it; says 'she's an abomination', but I'm not sure I agree. I like my little queen and, for all intents and purposes, I think she likes me too. I can't imagine getting rid of her and I'd rather run the risk of waking up to a few pilfered groceries than not coming home to her at all.

===

(Hello Lovelies, as you're aware, I'm going to be posting reviews for all four Aliens books and, frankly, this just popped into my head because of a little toy I owned. It's simple and silly, but seemed like fun overall. I hope you enjoyed.)

Book Review - Alien: The Official Movie Novelization

Getting started, first let me say that I'm definitely a bit conflicted with this book. As with any adaptation, the author must take certain liberties to conform the what works in a movie to what works in a book (as the reverse must be done when adopting a book to movie). You're always going to have things that someone liked better one way or another, so reviewing definitely comes with a grain of salt.

If you are unfamiliar with the original film, the story of Alien revolves around a crew of 'interstellar truckers' hauling a massive tug of petroleum through space back to Earth. The ship is unexpectedly redirected when it receives an emergency beacon from an unsurveyed world. Upon descending to the planet, they are unfortunate enough to discover a new form of life that stows away onboard in a rather unorthodox fashion, only to get loose later on and because wreaking terror on the crew. One by one they are each picked off, sometimes by the Alien and sometimes by each other. It ends in a claustrophobic, heart racing showdown that I won't spoil here but I'd encourage you to check out for yourself.

So let's start at the beginning.

Now, to give credit where credit is due, the greatest strength in this book has to be its descriptions and overall writing. The book, for all intents and purposes, would make an English teacher very happy. Grammatically it's perfect and it's loquacious to boot. Why should a button be green when it can be verdant? Or why simply push that button when you can depress it down with a satisfying click and a hum of machinery that comes to life after doing so.

Well...

While it will definitely win first prize at the spelling bee, it does bring us nicely to our first hit and miss: Pacing. As any horror author can tell you, pacing is important. It's hard to do but absolutely integral to the tone and atmosphere of the story. This is our first hit and miss.

The beginning of the story is slow. Very. Very. Slow. I actually started this book sometime back and eventually gave up 10% in because I just stopped caring. The author speak ad-nauseum regarding every little nuance and subtlety. Every clink of a machine, every light that blinks, everything that even vaguely occurs in the beginning of the book is so drawn out that it I very likely could have invented hypersleep before the characters woke up from their cryogenic stasis.

To the stories defense however, the author gains a better control of the story's pace once the alien is onboard and wreaking havoc. He begins to understand that not every whir of a machinery's hard-drive needs to be documented and, instead, uses the slower pace to build tension. What's better than slowly realizing something's out of place? That something is behind you? That something is waiting just around the corner? There are one or two scenes that are amusingly enough blown by that shouldn't have been, but overall the second half of the book is much better than the first.

In short, the author is very decently able to capture the tension and horror in these scenes that really made the original movie such a standout piece.

This brings us nicely to the next point: the adaptation.

While not necessarily good or bad, the actual adaptation and how a potential fan might react is subjective. Anyone that's seen the movies more than a few times can probably tell you in gruesome detail their favorite scene of the movie. They could probably tell you exactly what the creatures look like in their dark, sleek, and hideous black chitinous appearance.

What if I told you that had been changed?

While I've heard conflicting stories, a number of details, large and small, have been altered in the telling of the story. I've heard that it might be based on a very early version of the earlier script, but it definitely raised a few eyebrows. Did you know that the aliens all had enormous bulging eyeballs? I sure didn't. How about the fact that no one in this horrible, messed up situation ever feels the need to use a curse word? What about several completely skipped over scenes that add a great deal of context and understanding to the narrative as a whole.

Overall, the book is just ok. Of the four move adaptations, I definitely feel that it was the weakest however. Getting through the beginning of the book is just so gut-wrenchingly slow but it definitely makes up for it in the panic of the climax. I would give it a 6.5 out of 10.

Xenophobia - Chapter 34

    "Special?" Darrian asked with a lit of interest.
    Illiquina responded with a little nod as she tapped away on her datapad.
    "That seems contradictory to the idea that they were all the same model." Ferris interjected.
    "Doesn't it though?" she quipped back.
    "So why-" he began.
    "Let's call it a hunch." she said before handing the datapad to Darrian.
    Hesitantly taking the little computer, Darrian examined what she had laid out for him. It appeared to be some kind of a spreadsheet. It highlighted dozens of columns of information that made no sense to him, but three specific sets of data had been highlighted.
    'Termination Reason' and 'Reclamation'.
    "So you think the old judge was designed special then?" Ferris asked as Darrian studied the spreadsheet.

    "I don't think it started that way." she responded. "But for some reason, the old robot stuck out amongst his peers."

    After a moment of reading, Darrian understood why Illiquina thought what she did.

    "They cannibalized the others to keep the judge running." he said in shock.

    With the exception of a single DR robot which had been lost due to accidental explosive decompression, every other one of the judge's robots had been used in some capacity to repair him. Some of the units had been lost due to natural causes: mechanical or electronic failures of some capacity. Others had been intentionally dismantled and decommissioned with the intent to disassemble them.

    No matter how, though, the parts of his ten brothers had been used to make the sure judge kept running.

    "But...why?" Ferris asked in surprise as he read through the data himself. 

    "Again, I can't even take a stab at that without the judge's file." Illquina said with a hint of annoyance.

    "There had to be something." Darrian added quickly. "Something he did or said that was out of character. Something that made him stand out."

    "They all had the same purpose though." Ferris thought out loud. "So it must have been something big."

    "And that's why I think it was the Guillae." she shot back.

    In his sleep addled brain, the two ideas didn't connect. He was about to ask yet another question but Illiquina was kind enough to answer it before it could be asked.

    "Of the races in the galaxy," she said coolly, "which do you think would be the biggest threat to the Merrenian's desire for water."

    "The Guillae." Darrian echoed hollowly.

    "Right. The Guillae, at least at the time, were the only species that would have used water. Without their original file, I have no idea if the Guillae were an established race or the Consortium just stumbled across them. No matter the how, the Guillae would have been the biggest threat to their attempts to gather water."

    Darrian stared at her for a long moment, considering what hat just been said.

    "Then you think-"

    "The judge was involved somehow in the Guillae's removal from the Consortium."

    "Makes sense." agreed Darrian.

    "While that's interesting." Ferris said slowly. "This has nothing to do with Earth or the humans then."

    "Probably not." she agreed. "But it still seems strange that he reacted the way he did."

    "It does." Darrian agreed.

    "It doesn't matter." Ferris shot back. "We're speculating enough as it is. We don't need to build theories on top of-"

    KZZZT~

    "-nyone there?"
    They all turned in shock at the disembodied voice. The holographic imager started to generate the transmission from Jin'thun a moment later.
    "Hello?" he asked impatiently.
    "We're here." Illiquina said quickly and getting up from her place at the table.
    Despite his exhaustion, Darrian felt a new wave of energy rush into him.
    "Good. Because it's started." Jin'thun growled. "The Tulgucks have arrived."
    "Were you able to-" Ferris began.
    "We weren't able to do anything." he said gravely, cutting him off. "They've already begun their attack. The Mars colony has been destroyed along with everything in it."
    The room fell silent.
    "We're moving to intercept. But they've come for blood and their ships are faster and better equipped than we anticipated. We've already lost half our forces." he said quietly.
    "Where are they going?" Ferris  asked with horror in his voice.
    They all knew, but he had to ask.
    "Now that they're done with Mars." Jin'thun said slowly. "They're going to destroy Earth."

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Next Chapter (TO BE RELEASED WITH THE FINAL BOOK!)
Previous Chapter
Start at the Beginning

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(Hello Lovelies. I hope you enjoyed because this is our FINAL PUBLIC CHAPTER! From here on in, I will be doing a few things. On the backend, I will now be finishing the story and then re-writing and editing accordingly. The rewrite will make the story a little more cohesive since originally it was never meant to be a novel as well as adding a bit more character development. During this time period, we will be releasing regular, differing content but will also be starting to arrange things we need for the release including coverart and blog tours. the flip side is, you should finally see some different content then just Xenophobia. haha Have a wonderful day!)