All the Time in the World

 

 All the Time in the World

Reedsy Short Story Submission

 

 

    Imagine if someone asked you, “If you could choose any superpower, what would it be?”.

    What would you choose?

    I bet a dozen different things came to mind.

    I know at least a few of you would probably say something like super-strength. Or the ability to fly. With how popular some of the big supers are, heroes like Cosmic Man or Power Woman, I know that’s probably first on a few lists. Big and powerful. Flashy. The epitome of what you picture when you think “superhero”.

    Still, maybe you’re rethinking that choice. Or maybe you had something else in mind. Maybe you even gave more than a knee-jerk response.

    What else did you come up with?

    Was it invisibility? The ability to hide from sight. To do whatever you want without worrying about being seen. Not very heroic of you, but still certainly superhuman. What about the ability to breathe fire? Would sure make cosplaying as a dragon fun. Or perhaps you chose something contrarian like “Money” just because you’re a fan of the playboy philanthropists with a penchant for justice and vigilantism.

    It’s funny. For a lot of people, they don’t think of the ability to manipulate time as being very high on that list.

    Until you mention it.

    “Gee, that sounds like a great power.” You’re probably thinking. “Why didn’t I think about that?”

    I wondered for a long time why nobody thought of time manipulation as a superpower. It just seemed obvious to me, but I guess it’s because I was born with it. A lot of people just take time for granted, I suppose. Everything exists within time. Everything is held by its laws. In a way, it’s easier to forget that it’s there. Now, though, I think it’s because some deep part of the universe knows better than to let too many people go mucking about with the very fabric holding everything together.

    It’s better if people didn’t mess with it.

    Now, don’t get me wrong, there are one or two comics out there that talk about the idea of a hero with the ability to manipulate time. But of all the big licensed supers out there fighting bad guys in the streets, not one of them has that power. You would sooner see a six-year-old fighting a t-rex with a tanker truck than you would see someone stop time.

    Why is that?

    I learned early on that the first reason is just because a lot of people can’t even conceptualize what we’re doing when we’re using our powers. Time manipulation is so outside of the scope of proper existence that, when it’s seen, people don’t even know they’re seeing it. There are a few different kinds of T.M.’s, that’s short for Time Manipulators, people like me that can alter the flow of time in the universe. But all of them are generally misunderstood for something else.

    Take me for example: I can stop time. But what do you think that looks like to some guy watching? That’s right, it looks like I just moved super fast. So they just generally think I’m a speedster or something like that.

    Easy, right?

    Well, what about those who can move forward or backward in time? Same thing. If they move forward enough that they can be seen, provided the whole spatial issue, then POP, it looks like they just teleported. So someone thinks it’s a teleportation power. And going backward in time? Same thing, albeit with odd accents and money you’ve never seen.

    The only thing I think could ever stand out for what it would be is if a T.M. was able to specifically mess with the age of a given object, but I’ve never seen one of us manage that. I’m sure it’s theoretically possible, but either it’s incredibly rare or you need to live long enough to develop it, and none of us have pulled that off.

    That brings me nicely to the second problem with messing with time and why you don’t see many of us: it’s fucking dangerous. Simply put, despite T.M.’s showing up at about the same rate as other supers, we just don’t have a long shelf-life.

    I mentioned earlier the “spatial issue”. While I’ve personally never dealt with it, an old buddy of mine explained it to me before he died. In short, while a lot of T.M.’s can manipulate time, the universe is made up of both time and space. Basic physics kind of stuff. But those basic physics make a big difference when you travel in time because there’s a fair chance that the planet you’re on won’t exist beneath your feet if you go too far backward or ahead. With very few exceptions, most T.M.’s couldn’t do anything about that and so any jumps they made had to be in weird, quick intervals to avoid leaving the Earth behind.

    Space is pretty fucking cold and you can’t breathe out there.

    Unfortunately, though, for someone like me with the ability to stop time, not breathing is also a big issue. As a kid, I remember seeing a bunch of comics about how cool it would be to stop time, to run around without anyone moving or even knowing what was going on, but those stories never took into account the fact that when you stop time, more than just people are frozen. And I don’t mean plants or animals or bugs or anything like that.

    Like I said earlier, everything in the universe is bound to time.

    You’ve heard of the speed of light, right? Maybe you haven’t thought of it too much, but speed implies movement. A lightyear is the speed of light measured against time. So naturally, if you stop time, you stop light.

    Do you know what else requires time to move around?

    Air.

    Oxygen. Nitrogen. Hydrogen. All those little particles that make up our ability to breathe. To survive. All of those are just as dictated by time as the rest of us. And if they aren’t moving. You aren’t breathing them.

    Even worse than that, if they aren’t moving, then you aren’t moving.

    Yet again, if time isn’t moving, then none of those little particles are. Fully stopping time is like locking yourself in a prison of darkness, unable to move any part of your body. My mom and dad thought they were night terrors when I was a kid. Turned out it was just my superpower developing and no one understanding that the “sleep paralysis” that wore off after I passed out was me accidentally locking myself in that prison.

    Who knew I’d put myself back in it willingly?

    To be fair, I figured out what it was years ago and I haven’t used a full time-stop again until today. Normally I do what I call “Extreme Slo-mo”. You slow down time just enough so that you’ve still got photons bouncing around and the particles in the air can move around. It’s like moving through beef stew, and you still can’t breathe, but it lets me do my job and save people. It also comes with the cool side effect of making these big explosions when I move through a lot of space because it displaces all the air super fast. Everyone thinks I’m a speedster because of it, and I guess for a long time I was happy to just accept that.

    Until today.

    Man, everything was going great today. It was supposed to be nice and easy. Just go grab some shmuck that had taken some hostages. My friends and I had dealt with similar stuff a hundred times over since we became supers five years ago.

    Why the fuck did he have a nuke?

    Maybe if I was a speedster, I could have done something. At the very least, maybe I could have gotten away. I wouldn’t just be sitting here waiting for my body to give up and pass out. It’s already been three minutes since I locked myself in my little time prison. It’s pretty impressive I haven’t blacked out already.

    Okay, maybe I’m being pedantic. I don’t have any light and I haven’t since that bastard set off the bomb.

    I just wish I had realized what he was doing. Wish I had been proactive and not only been able to react. He’d already pressed the button. Already primed it to go off. He had never intended to get out of there. He just wanted to take some supers with him and used the hostages to do it.

    I just wish I had a chance to do it over again.

    Who knows, maybe I can figure out how to.

    I’ve got all the time in the world.

   

Addressing the Elephant in the Room

Addressing the Elephant in the Room

===

Hello again, all.

It's been a very long time since I've been on Blogger as is no mystery to a lot of the old Author and Writing crowd. While I did decide to pop back in and considered just posting things whenever, I felt like I should respectfully let people know what's going on.

The short and simple of it is: life happened. While I don't want to dive too deeply into it, a large amount of medical and personal circumstances struck very hard, not to mention being followed by the beginning of the pandemic and the disaster that has been the last few years. As it stands, I had very little inspiration to do anything short of hide from existence and haven't done much in the way of writing.

My intent for moving forward is quite simply to get back into it. I'm a great deal more focused on writing both small and large projects. I'm working on several things on the back end that I intent to publish and therefore don't want to actually post on the blog. I can promise more to come on that one. I intend to also put out stuff on the block that wouldn't otherwise find its way into a publication. These might be a bit more random then previous, though I hope that's more because I've expanded as a writer than gotten worse as one.

I'll let you be the judge of that.

Finally, I'm thinking about changing things up to make this less of a purely fiction related blog and expand out more. I've had thoughts about doing reviews, informationals, and things like that, but I really haven't delved too hard into that quite yet and am not sure if I want to quite yet.

At the end of the day, my intent is simply to get back into the groove and really start writing and living again. I hope everyone has been doing well and it's nice already seeing some familiar names and blogs that I haven't seen in quite a few years.

The best I can offer is: expect more to come. I'm not sure about scheduling or anything like that, just know that the willingness is there, so keep your ear to the ground.

Little Island Tales - Part 5

    "Hi guys!" Tamah whispered excitedly from behind them.
    Tamah, practically crawling over several other people, seemed to perch on Diego and Ka'lani's shoulders, covering them both in smears of recently carved charcoal. There were a few excited yelps and "Hey!"s, along with some disapproving stares from a couple of the village elders, but that didn't seem to slow the excited girl at all.
    "Sorry I'm late." she added quickly and started to try and push Ka'lani to the side.
    "Sit down." her mother in a quiet, yet firm.
    "I'm trying!" Tamah commented between grunts. "Ka'lani won't move."
    Ka'lani, inspired by her sister's desires, anchored herself in place. Diego received a well place elbow and a hip in the face for Tamah's efforts though.
    "I'm already sitting here." Ka'lani shot at her little sister. "Find another spot."
    "Friends! Family!" the Eldest called out from in front of the fire.
    "Move Kay!" Tamah tried again.
    "You move."
    "Sit. Down." Samaria said one more time, the warning in her voice palpable.
    "Fine! Finefinefine." Tamah remarked and quickly carved out a spot between Diego and his mother.
    There were a few excited whispers here and there, primarily for similar reasons as the final people found their spots and settled in as Tamah had. Diego, for the most part, ignored Ka'lani's little sister as she nestled into the sand next to him. Tula gave her a reassuring pat on the head.
    "Friends." the Eldest again called out, this time louder and with more expectation for their attention. "Family."
    This time, everyone listened, and quieted.
    Asim Walker was the oldest man in the village and colloquially referred to as 'The Eldest'. The title meant little with regards to actual decision making for the village other than a recognition of having ticked off the most years, yet there was still honor to it. While the Elders acted as a group to make help lead and govern, the four other elders, including Koula, Thomas, Jidalgo, and Hecate, had a tradition of allowing The Eldest to lead in the ceremonies. It was a matter of respect after all; anyone who managed to survive to such a ripe old age was clearly doing something right.
     Diego couldn't help but think that the man's stature helped a little as well when it came to commanding respect. Powerfully built despite his age, Asim had once been one of the most well-known and decorated warriors in the village and bore the scars to prove it. While his skin was a deep charcoal color and his hair was shock white, the man bore two, ragged claw marks that tore across his torso in bright red, swollen lines.
    "A parting gift from an aka-akua." he once told the children. "A way to remind me what hides in the dark."
    "Friends." the Eldest called in his deep, booming voice. "Let us bow our heads in prayer...and begin."
    One hundred and nine heads bowed deep til foreheads met sand. The action was smooth, practiced, and simultaneous between the young and the old, the wise and the stupid, women and men alike. They were one in their purpose and in their solidarity.
    "In the dark of the night..." Asim began.
    "The shadows wait." the village answered in one, tremulous tone.
    "And in the shadows..."
    "The aka-akua feed."
    "So may we never falter..."
    "And may the Pyre burn."
    "For we are the chosen of the Gods..."
    "And we will outlast the night."
    "Until the world stops turning..."
    "We shall outlast."
    "May the sun never set..."
    "And the light shine eternal."
    One by one, the villagers lifted their head from the sand.
    Despite having done this ceremony the same way every month, the initial prayer always had the same result. Sobriety. Sorrow. Frustration. Sadness. Determination. And many, many more emotions that couldn't be so simply calculated. Jaws were hard clenched, tears occasionally ran freely, some even shook, but all stared at the Pyre in quiet reverence as they mulled over the words they had just repeated.
    The ever burning flame was their single, stalwart defense. Even as the fog and the darkness threatened to choke out the torches that burned along the fireline, it was the Pyre that was their only true defense. No matter if anyone took their safety for granted throughout the month, laughed and played in the sunlight or even challenged death and walked freely in the moon-filled nights with a torch in hand, the prayer always reminded everyone exactly where they stood when darkness fell.
    While they may live on an island, the time they felt the most isolated was in that deep, darkness of the moonless night.
    "Rise, my friends." Asim said softly, though his voice carried across the crowd.
    It was not a command, but a request. A call to pull themselves from their stupor and rejoin the living as their minds drifted to the dead that wandered the black beaches of night.
    "As always," Koula began, speaking just as loud as Asim so all could hear, "we will start with the avatars."
    While their was no preset order, no decided upon way or enforced means of distribution, the village always followed the same path. Like a corkscrew working its way out, the innermost villagers stood and walked to the Pyre with their charcoal avatars in hand. The elders, who were standing in a star formation around the flames, passed their hands over the avatars and offered a blessing, or perhaps a spell of some kind, Diego had never known, before the villager tossed the avatar into the fire. This continued until the very last avatar at the very edge of the village center had been burned.
    Next, those with the with the name markers stood up. And then the smudge sticks after that. Each one was solemnly taken to the blaze, blessed, and then thrown into the roaring inferno. Every villager only carried one of the different tokens and, by the time the last smudge was burning, every single person had walked by the warm, searing light of the ever-burning fire.
    When the last person sat, the charcoal avatars were already smouldering and the recently tossed smudge sticks produced a thick, fog-like smoke that drifted up and out in every direction. The smoke seemed to try, and succeed, to fill every hole, to touch every pocket of air, and to expand like a slowly-inflating bubble that worked its way out to the fireline of the village.
    The incense burned their eyes and dulled their noses and senses, but no one would ever complain. While Diego had never dared watch it, he knew that once the smoke reached the fireline and the fog beyond, both clouds would stop; neither daring to move past the other. It would form a blockade against the evil that lay beyond.
    At least, that's what they hoped.
    The villagers seemed to hold their collective breath as a moment past.
    Then another.
    The fire burned and the smoke billowed and all around, the world was still.
    Until.
    SCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAACCCCCCCCH!
    The enraged cry of defiance was the signal they had waited for. The warriors who had been waiting at the edges of the group relaxed their tensed muscles, knowing that there would be no battle tonight. No fleeing into the dark to take the fight to the monsters the hid in the fog and the shadows.
    The spells had worked.
    The beasts could not get in.
    And so the village stood and they cheered. As long and as loud as each of them could.
    They were safe for another month.

Bad Blogging Habits

Hello Lovelies,

First and foremost, let me say thank you regarding your commentary on the 'Book Reviews?' post. It actually proved a great deal more insightful than I was expecting and helped me solidify how I felt a little bit more. In short, this is not and will not be a 'review' site, however I will probably throw snippets in here and there regarding stuff I read that really grabs me in one direction or another. It's kind of why I did the initial two and, I think, I the reason I'll turn to in the future.

Now, to get serious, this bit is not going to be me providing you a list of what to do and what not to do. Unless of course you think REALLY hard about what I'm saying and discern your own list. In that case, it's not my fault. It's yours.

Weirdo.

Instead, I wanted to address a few things that I've personally noticed I've done wrong as time has gone on that I've tried to react to. I've found that putting my own faults on display not only helps other writers who might run into the same pitfalls, but it's also wonderfully humbling to put up a mirror to my own failures.

To start: I had a very bad concept as to what I wanted this site to be when I started. When I started, and let's be honest here, I began with the concept of generating foot traffic. Nothing more. I wouldn't go so far as saying 'I wanted to create ClickBait', but I had this idealized image in my head of somehow creating a site where I just had ad revenue rolling in. While embarrassing to admit, it didn't take me long to recognize the fault in that belief. Instead, I found new meaning in the ability to share my writing (for better or worse) with others.

The next problem I've run into isn't necessarily regarding writing itself as much as it is personal life. In short, as many have said, life sucks. There are many, many things that consistently make demands on your time. Some are normal, like work. Some are not, like health. Some are bad, like exhaustion or writer's block, and some are good, like a surprise party or vacation. There's lot of demands on your time and accepting that is the best way to get around it.

This brings me nicely to the next point, proper scheduling and forethought. I can't count how many times I've tried to 'make a writing schedule' only to find myself canceling it or just staring at a blank page for an hour because nothing comes to mind. Instead, what I've only recently discovered, is the usage of Scheduling your writing. This can be something as simple as using the 'schedule' button in blogger, but is can also be as simple as saving your work to post later. I can only imagine how much more I might have made if I had let myself write when I had the inspiration to. If I had let myself create when I had the time versus when I stuck myself to a 'specific schedule'.

Learn from my mistake, kids: write when you want and build up a buffer. It'll help you proceed.

Last, but certainly not least, is my terrible incapability of interacting with the blogging community. While it's a nice belief that writing will make others come to you just through the usage of tags and such, the truth is that you have to network. You have to give and take, eb and flow; interact with other writers present within your community and on blogger.

I. Am. Terrible. About. This.

Building into the original problem of not having enough time to ever do anything I want to do, this is one that can't be scheduled as much and more needs to become a regular thing. Reach out to your fellow bloggers. See what they're saying. Respond to their comments. Talk with them. Originally, I would always build this into my blog posts (checking what everyone was doing), but I'm realizing it's a lot cleaner and easier to just check things here and there. This is doubly intensified when I have scheduled content because, whenever that item hits, I'm not thinking about checking other blogs...I'm likely at work or the gym or making dinner.

So, if we were making the list, here are the points: Recognize why you're blogging (because you're likely not going to get rich doing it). Recognize your own limitations in life and capability. Schedule posts based on what and when you want to write versus holding yourself to a standard. And interact with people.

Sound good? Good.

With that said, I hope you all are doing well and will join us again on Monday.

- RB

"I never studied Writing..."

Hello Lovelies,

I was speaking to a friend the other day and it really got my brain buzzing.

In short, the conversation had to do with a rather delicate social issue; racism in America and how its misconstrued not only by the 'bigoted' party but by the parties who try so hard to fix the problem that they essentially make it worse. I won't go into the finer details, but the friend in question was incredibly passionate and started talking at length about wanting to write a book on the topic as a means to help educate others on the idea. As I understood it, he'd already worked within a lecture environment a couple of times and wanted to put his thoughts on paper.

The question that I directed at him? Why didn't he?

There was some brief back and forth, but the cliche that we reached is the same one that I've actually started to hear more and more as the years press on.

"Well, I never really studied English in school/college.", or "I didn't take any writing classes.", and even "I'm not sure if I'd do any good."

I bet you know the point I'm about to make, but I feel it needs to be said.

Writing is a window into your soul; into your passions and your love and your hate. It gives a platform to stand on, a boom mic in one hand, and a flag in the other. Much as painting, drawing, singing, poetry, and any other creative expression in the world, writing is just another means of putting yourself out there, for better or for worse, for you and the world to see and understand where you're coming from. It can be done for a purpose, like I hope my friend will, or it can be done because your brain is often too full of nonsense and needs to be drained, like I often deal with.

However, what it does not require, is a Doctorate in English.

While I'm sure my older sister would disagree, as would any Doctors in the Subject, let me explain.

Writing, like anything in the world can be learned. There are classes that will help and there are people that can lead you, but that doesn't mean you are restricted to sitting at a desk listening to some professor drone on and on about the theory of subjective adjectives. Everyone learns in a different way and no two learning methods will be useful for any two given people.

I provide myself as example.

Now first, let me accept that I'm no Shakespeare. I don't doubt I'd benefit from classic training, but as it stands the extent of my "writing classes" are some high school English classes THAT I HATED WITH A PASSION. Everything else has been self taught. Hell, if you were really bored enough, you could follow that learning process just by going back and reading some of my old content and moving forward through time. You can observe my improvements (or failures) even over the course of a year with just an afternoon of reading and a large pot of tea.

The reason I bring this up though, is more and more recently, my friends refer to me as being a writer. Not that I mind, but I've realized they do this as a means of separation, not necessarily as a recognition. It's a means of saying "You know more than I do on this subject" and while I would love that to mean what it sounds like, it's meant as a degradation of their own character and capability rather than a reflection of my own.

In short, they feel that there is something special that they lack; some training or understanding that they never received that I somehow did.

This brings me nicely to my point: that's horseshit.

While I could probably write a book on WHY it's fucking stupid to degrade yourself into believing you missed some crucial college course to being successful in something you love; or I could simply sit here and stroke egos and spout cliches about 'just go do it', I'll just share how "I go do it" as an example.

One: I read. A lot.

But probably not what you think.

I do indeed have a shit-ton of books at my house. I have a lot on my kind and audible account too (as mentioned in my previous post). But writing isn't necessarily all about reading novels. I have read web comics religiously and I'm sure I will again in the future. I also read actual comics; Dark Horse, Marvel, DC...whatever. I read the news. I read blogs (as I'm sure plenty of you know). I read captions. I read letters. I read bills. I. Read. If there is written word, paying attention to what is being said and how it is said will give you an insight into writing.

To that point: Difficult reading DOES NOT EQUAL good writing. That's not to say there are classics that aren't loquacious and verbose as a dictionary smoothie; but always consider what those words MEAN. Why use "chronic periscapular hyperalgesia" when you could say "shoulder pain"? A well worn thesaurus isn't always a good thing.

Two: I write.

No shit, right?

But that doesn't mean I sit here punch out novels. Any of my normal followers can tout that I'm a horrible human being with an incapability of keeping a schedule.

No, instead, just as mentioned before, I simply let words flow. This wordy and astute piece of silliness is a perfect example. I will scribble down articles and content for no one in particular. I will write down a comment or question, just to see it. Hell, my biggest help is probably the weirdest: I host Dungeons and Dragons because it lets me concoct stories for my players to get through.

In short. I just write.

Lastly: I listen.

There are better writers. There are better authors and publishers and editors and people who HAVE studied and HAVE done things I will never accomplish. These people are not my enemy. I trust many of them to be professionally and painfully honest. I listen to their complaints and criticisms and I read their comments when they bleed the red-pen of death across the page and I consider it. Some might be mean and personal, but some might have astute information you've never considered.

So, in conclusion, just let yourself be. Let yourself read and write and or draw and paint or build a bike or whatever you want to do! Sometimes classes help, sometimes they don't. Sometimes you can teach yourself something, sometimes you can't. Be open to the experience around you and inside you and let yourself push forward. You'll be surprised by what you can do.

Planning for the Tour

Hello Lovelies,

With the end of the public chapter releases for Xenophobia, I want to start thinking towards the future. Whether it be six months or a year down the line, my thought process is now on a) finishing Xenophobia and its respective editing and rewrite; and b) planning how to release and sell the story.

I've done a number of other smaller short stories that have been released simply through the Kindle online store. However, I realize that this one definitely deserves more love than a few random tales (call it maturing as an author from scribbler to writer).

What I'd like instead is to go through the appropriate channels to garner viewership and readers. I've obviously already been getting feedback here and there from readers, but now I want eyes in a different way. Obviously I can do things like paid-for marketing, but I feel there's a much better opportunity through being able to speak to people who care about books and their content. Things like interviews and blog tours in the blogspot writer's community immediately come to mind.

With that said, I wanted to know if any of you have ever done something along that line. Have any of you ever done a blog tour? Or an interview? Or maybe something else that I'm not thinking of? For those that have, did you find them particularly useful or rewarding?

Right now I'm just trying to build a gameplan and I would love to hear your opinion and experiences, particularly from established writers (that's not to say I don't want to hear from our lovely serial readers as well!) Thank you, Lovelies~

- RB

Xenophobia - Chapter 33

    "To start, I feel the need to reiterate, these entries aren't directly about the Old Judge." Illiquina stated hesitantly.
    "We know that already." Ferris agreed.
    "Mmm." Darrian with a nod.
    "But it's something." Ferris added. "They were all from the same batch, right? Theoretically they have the same purpose."
    "A reasonable assumption." Illiquina confirmed.
    She let out a sigh and seemed to consider their two expectant gazes.
    "Well, the original batch consisted of a dozen units." Illiquina began. "Much like other robots from that era, they were identical in appearance, if not design."
    "At that time, they were pretty much just referred to by a basic code designation: DR." she continued. "After reviewing the files, I'm thinking that the old judge might have been DR-5. Not that it matters."
    "DR?" Darrian asked.
    "Diplomatic Robot."
    "So they were meant for diplomacy." Ferris observed. "Somehow I expected something a little more vile."
    Illiquina snickered to herself and tapped a few things on her datapad.
    "Diplomacy has many purposes, Rodent." she shot back snidely.
    Ferris begun to huff up at her aside, but Darrian weakly waved a hand at him. He didn't have the patience for their back and forth at the moment.
    "What do you mean?" he asked weakly.
    "I mean that people can use diplomacy for different things." Illiquina repeated.
    "That doesn't..." Darrian began.
    "They were designed to get something from someone." Ferris clarified.
    "Not just someone, but many someones." Illiquina confirmed.
    "You have to remember: this was the very beginning of the Consortium. The Merrenians had just discovered a half a dozen different races, all who had active war machines and armadas that vastly rivaled anything of their own." she continued. "But there was one thing that your species had that no other did."
    "Robots?" Ferris asked.
    "True, you had a mastery of robotics." Illiquina said with a nod. "Your evolution had demanded that for your exosuits."
    "More than that though." she said with a look of mild disgust. "The Merrenians were incredibly cunning and wonderful at wheedling what they wanted out of others."
    "But...what did they want?" Darrian thought out loud.
    "Sounds like not getting caught in a six species war was a good goal." Ferris remarked.
    "Water." Illiquina said simply.
    Darrian and Ferris glanced at each other.
    "Water?" they asked in unison.
    "Goals don't change much do they." Illiquina remarked.
    "Well. We all use water, don't we?" asked Darrian.
    "Now we do. But Merrenains were the first to really utilize water on a mass scale. It served a million purposes. But just like today it was an essential component in the cooling systems for Merrenian robotics and industrial capabilities."
    Darrian nodded softly but Ferris looked confused.
    "Things haven't changed much that way." she added in that way.
    "What's that mean?" Ferris questioned.
    "I means that the Merrenians still hold stakes in seventy percent of the galactic water stakes." she shot back with just a hint of anger.
    Darrian had never considered it before, but figured she must be right. He also doubted that Illiquina would embellish such a fact even with her occasional temper.
    "Ok. We wanted water." Ferris snapped back quickly. "Hell. If I remember my history classes correctly, the discovery of water was what drove us off planet. But what do the DR robots have to do with that?"
    "Because what better way to get what we need than to take it from others?" Darrian said thoughtfully. The words were slow but weighed heavy on his mind.
    Illiquina gave a little nod.
    "And what's better way to take from others?" she said coolly. "Than to have it given freely."
    They sat there in silence for a minute, considering what had been said. Darrian felt like lightning was jolting through his brain. Even with the sludge of exhaustion, the wheels began to turn again.
    "The Consortium's whole purpose...was to steal water? To take it from the other species?"
    "It's not like it says in the file." Illiquina said. "And it's not like the Consortium hasn't done wonderful things. But everything points to that. That and keeping the other species relatively passive to avoid unnecessary cost or wars."
    He couldn't believe what was being said. Thousands of rotations of peace and prosperity. Born of simple avarice.
    It was just too much to take in.
    "Then the old judge is just the last of the DR robots?" Ferris asked curiously. "The last remnant?"
    "Yes." Illiquina confirmed. "But I think it might be more than that."
    "How so?"
    "Well, I can't confirm without the Judge's profile...or the Guillae's..."
    Darrian tilted his head in curiosity at the mention of the plant people.
    "But I think the old judge stood out among his 'brothers'." Illiquina said quietly. "I think he was special in some way the others weren't."

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Xenophobia - Chapter 32

    Darrian felt himself begin to nod off but quickly shook himself awake.
    Blearily, he glanced around the big conference table again.
    He felt tired.
    More than that he felt exhausted. Sore. Abused. His attention had fizzled out long before Ferris had shown up to 'relieve' him. Despite this, he didn't even the will to get up and leave. So he just stared at the table.
    "You ok, man?" Ferris asked for what seemed like the millionth time.
    Darrian meekly nodded in way of response.
    "Come on, Darrian. You look terrible." Ferris said with a hint of concern. "Go home. You could use the rest."
    "I'll be here when Jin'thun contacts us." he added quickly.
    Darrian slowly turned his attention towards his compatriot who offered him a friendly smile.
    "Can't." he said shortly.
    That sat in silence for another indiscernible period of time. They had already done this same song and dance several times, but neither had broken their stead. But the outcome had yet to change. Ferris kept gently nudging him and Darrian just responded that he couldn't leave.
    Not that he wouldn't leave. He couldn't.
    Darrian had to wait for the inevitable. He needed to know what was happening at Mars.
    If only they would contact them, he would know what was happening.
    In the silence of the room, it seemed like everything that had happened up til now, that had led up to this, was constantly replaying in his mind. Even worse, a thousand scenarios born of fear and anxiety took heed when he managed to slip free of the past.
    What is the Gorderians and Tulgucks started an all-out war? What if this one conflict, over this one questionable species tore apart the very Consortium? What if despite everything, the humans were destroyed and...
    His mind was a turbulent mess of terror and remorse. 
    If only he knew what was happening.
    "Well..." Ferris began.
    Darrian glanced back at him.
    "Illiquina should be here soon." He offered.
    "Yea." Darrian said in way of response.
    Illiquina.
    That had been the other thing that had been bothering him.
    Did the Old Judge fit into any of this somehow?
    Every time that question cropped up, it was like a viscous black ooze that mucked up his mind even further. In slipped into the cracks of his thoughts and gelled his anxieties together; making him wonder how it might all be connected.
    But each time, he would eventually reject it.
    The Old Judge is nothing. He thought to himself. Just a stupid old robot.
    And so he'd continue stressing in silence. At least until Ferris tried to get him to go home again.
    True to Ferris's word, however, Illiquina showed up shortly thereafter. She walked into the conference room and immediately focused on the weary Darrian.
    "What are you still doing here?" she asked pointedly.
    "Can't get him to leave." Ferris offered.
    "Darrian?" she asked.
    "Can't leave." he said quietly.
    Illiquina glowered at him before turning her smoldering annoyance on Ferris.
    "Hey. I've been trying."
    She approached him and her demeanor softened.
    "Darrian. Go Home."
    "Can't."
    "Why not?"
    "I need to know what's going on."
    "And you will." she offered in probably the gentlest tone the little Cadrax had ever spoken in. "But you need rest."
    He looked at her, but found himself simply staring through her.
    "Please." she said quietly.
    "I'll even walk you home." Ferris added.
    "No." Darrian said shortly.
    Illiquina and Ferris exchanged glances.
    "How long have you been awake?" She asked.
    "Don't know. Cycle maybe? Probably a little more."
    "You've been awake for an entire cycle?" Ferris asked shocked.
    "Yep."
    "Ok." Illiquina snapped. "Go home. You don't get to sit here til you die of exhaustion."
    Darrian glared down at the tiny Cadrax. He was considering just digging his heels in. It's not like she could physically move him. There was Ferris though...
    "Now." she said sternly.
    "What about the Old Judge?" he asked, the thoughts oozing through the cracks of his mind.
    "What about him?" asked Ferris.
    "Wha-" Darrian felt his words stumble. "What didn't you tell us?"
    Illiquina sighed and her tone softened once again.
    "That's what you've been stressing about." she said.
    "One of the things."
    "I was going to wait for everyone." she said hesitantly. "But if I tell you, will you go home?"
    "Mmm." he grumbled in confirmation.
    "Fine." she said as she settled in next to him.
    In an instant, she had her odd looking datapad out and was tapping away furiously. Maybe it was his tired mind, but he still couldn't figure out where she hid that thing.
    "Let's review, shall we?"

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 (Hello Lovelies. So, I wanted to address something real quick. I know we're going slow but it's primarily related to me wanting to get these final chapters right. On top of this, I've begun the inital re-writing process since, as mentioned before, all posted chapters have been a first draft. That said, I'm only going to do one or two more public chapters. I'd like to leave the climax for the release of the book. Once I've released the last few public chapters, we'll return to a schedule of more random writings, discussions, etc. along with planning for blog tours and things of that nature. 

Sorry about the wait, but I promise more is to come. Hopefully the whole re-write and editing won't take too long, but I know a few good chunks will take a while since now I KNOW the characters a bit more and can make it a more of a cohesive story with strong character arch. See you next time!) 

Xenophobia - Chapter 31

    "You're there already?!" sputtered Illiquina.
    "H-How?" asked A'alan't 32 who appeared just as shocked as Illiquina.
    Ferris and Darrian exchanged confused glances. They were certainly surprised that the Gorderians had somehow reached Mars before the Tulgucks, but still...
    Jin'thun gave the group a hard look before he responded.
    "Do you know anything about folding space?" he asked them gruffly.
    "No?" Ferris offered unhelpfully.
    "I know that it's great for traveling long distances, incredibly dangerous, and wildly inaccurate." A'alan't 32 added.
    "All true." Jin'thun confirmed. "It's even worse when you're firing off into a solar system. But we made it through with minimal losses."
    Darrian felt his throat tightening.
    "How many-" he began.
    "Four ships were lost in the fold." Jin'thun responded flatly.
    Darrian responded with a soft nod. He felt a shiver run down his back as he thought about it.  
    Four ships. Four ships full of people lost well before fighting even begun. And if the Tulgucks could be talked down? Four ships possibly lost for no reason.
    "I'm sorry." A'alan't 32 offered, taking the words from Darrian.
    "As am I." Jin'thun growled softly.
    Straightening himself up, Darrian steeled himself. They would need to think ahead for now.
    "What do you need from us?" he asked.
    "Not much you can do." Jin'thun said bluntly. "If I have someone nearby, we'll keep you up to date. But short of that, the Merrenians aren't worth much."
    ~ZZZT~ "I take offense to that, Fur-face."
    As if on cue, the holographic image split into two. On the left, Jin'thun. On the right, Harris.
    "Harris!" Ferris exclaimed.
    "Oy." he responded with a nod before turning his attention towards Jin'thun.
    "Harris." Jin'thun growled. "How did you-"
    "My literal purpose is to watch and listen. You think I didn't patch into your comms the moment you ripped a hole in space, you're sorely mistaken."
    "This channel is supposed to be secure..." Jin'thun responded with venom, his attention focused away from the imager.
    "Don't blame your comms-officer." Harris interjected. "I'm just better than him."
    The two images sat in strained silence. Darrian had seen Jin'thun's explosive temper more than once and expected another outburst promptly.
    But it never came.
    "Fine." Jin'thun snarled. "What do you want, Harris?"
    "Better question: What do you want?" Harris responded snidely.
    "Okay. What do I want?"
    "I bet you want access to the Tulguck armada's intranet."
    For once, Jin'thun seemed less angry and more flabbergasted.
    "You're serious?"
    "I'm talking to you on a spliced channel." Harris shot back with a smirk. "What do you think?"
    Jin'thun considered for a moment.
    "A'alan't 32." he said. "If you could arrange someone to stay nearby for the next cycle, I would greatly appreciate it."
    "Of course." she responded before glancing to the others. "We'll take shifts?"
    There was a series of nods in agreement.
    "Fantastic." Jin'thun said gruffly.  "It seems you and I have much to discuss, Harris."
    Harris didn't say anything, but simply wore that same smirk. A moment later, the imager blanked out, leaving them once again in the dark room.
    They sat in silence for a few moments before A'alan't 32 spoke up.
    "So who's willing to start?" she asked.
    "I will." Darrian offered.
    "I'll do next shift." Ferris added.
    They both agreed with little nods before settling back into their spots.
    "Next cycle is going to be long." Darrian observed with a heavy sigh.
    There was a mutter of agreement before everyone but Darrian started to make their way towards the door.
    "I'll be back by early cycle." Ferris said as he left.
    Darrian waved them off with a little smile before looking around the empty conference room. It had never occurred to him how cavernous it seemed without the other councilors or the old jud-
    His attention snapped back to the closed door.
    In the excitement, the group had totally forgotten to go over what Illiquina had found.
    "I hope it's not important." he muttered to himself.

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Xenophobia - Chapter 29

    Darrian felt a welling sense of excitement deep inside him.
    The humans were preparing for a fight.
    But wait a second...
    "How do we know it's regarding the Tulgucks?" Darrian asked hesitantly. "Surely there must be some kind of a response to whatever is happening on Mars. How are you sure this isn't it?"
    "Well..." Harris began.
    "He's right." Ferris quickly added in. "Why would you presume that it was in response to the Tulgucks?"
    Ferris glanced around and a few nods of agreement confirmed they were wondering the same.
    "Actually, it's..."
    "What are they even doing?" Ugul asked absently.
    Harris gave them all a look of annoyance and they quieted.
    "You want answers or do you just want to hear each other prattle on?"
    "Answers, please." Ferris responded in an almost playful manner.
    "Our apologies, Harris. Please continue." A'alan't 32 added quickly.
    "To begin, with regards to Mars, the humans already responded while you all were on vacation."
    "We weren't..." Cagool started to protest.
    "The humans," Harris quickly emphasized, cutting Cagool off. "dispatched two ships en route to Mars. While we're no longer on the planet, imagery of their departure suggested that they were a touch more prepared this time."
    "Prepared?" Darrian asked.
    "For mounds of violence, I'd expect." Illiquina offered.
    "You'd be correct." Harris confirmed. "However, shortly after the ships departure, the humans seemed to have noticed something. I can only presume it was the Tulgucks."
    "You said that earlier." Cagool interjected. "Why do you think it was the Tulgucks?"
    "Because the humans stopped fighting." Harris said. "And they started building."
    The councilors all exchanged confused glances.
    "Look, what do you know about humans?" he asked when he realized he hadn't made himself understood.
    "They're scary." Ugul offered.
    "They breathe oxygen." Illiquina added.
    "They love to fight each other." A'alan't 32 said thoughtfully after a moment.
    Harris nodded his confirmation.
    "One of the primary consistencies, and the reason the Tulgucks were scared of them in the first place, was the humans' tendencies towards war and violence." Harris stated. "And about a cycle ago, intraplanetary violence, particularly extreme measures between geographic locations utilizing ground troops and heavy artillery, ceased by 96%."
    "W-wow." Stuttered Ferris.
    "Wow indeed." Harris confirmed. "Instead they have all suddenly dedicated themselves to construction."
    "Of what?" asked Illiquina.
    "Warcraft. Space-faring warcraft."
    The councilors fell silent once again.
    "How-" A'alan't 32 began.
    "We, of course, are unable to properly determine exactly what the humans are building, particularly those units behind closed doors." Harris said quickly, cutting off A'alan't 32. "But we've counted a minimum of eight hundred separate spacecraft of varying degrees of sophistication."
    "You're serious?" Cagool asked. "You expect us to believe that, in less than a cycle, the humans have mobilized enough to begun construction of nearly a thousand craft."
    "Minimum." Harris confirmed.
    Cagool stared hard at Harris, seemingly choosing his next words carefully.
    "It's not like it matters." he finally said. "The most powerful weapon they have are nuclear devices. They're crude...they might as well throw rocks."
    "Perhaps, but even with the single trip to Mars, they were able to vastly improve upon their own technologies for the second trip." Harris said. "With motivation, I'd say the humans might just be able to rustle up more than you give them credit for."
    "It won't make a difference." Cagool snapped to the councilors' surprise.
    "That said." Harris said turning to A'alan't 32. "My men and I will be leaving their immediate orbit and spacegrounds. I don't care to be used as target practice once those ships are mobile."
    "Understood." A'alan't 32 confirmed.
    "I'll remain within the solar system and use long range systems to keep an eye on them, but I think the Tulgucks might be in for more of a resistance than the planned for."
    "That's absurd!" Cagool exclaimed.
    "Absurd or not." Harris said coolly. "Believe me or not. I'm telling you that the humans are gearing up for a fight. And, for the first time in their existence, it's not going to be with each other."

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