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Aeroquest… Adagio 2 – Nebulons

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Adagio 2 – Nebulons

 

     I am one of the few Scientist/Historians ever to make a thorough examination of Nebulon physiology and culture. It helped that I lived with some of them for a while, even helping to raise a couple of very young ones. And unlike the cross-bred lizard-Russian-Galtorrian-Human idiots who were the superior authority and dominant race of the Galtorr Imperium, I didn’t try to belittle them as mere “Space Smurfs” and take their existence as a joke.  As a participant in the destruction of the Galtorr Imperium and the rise of the New Star League, I, Googol Marou, can speak with some authority on the subject of Nebulons.

Suffice it to say, the present shape of the Milky Way Civilization in the Orion Spur owes much to the nature of Space Smurfs.  They were critical to the Imperial defeat and the unification of the New Stars.  You will see more of that in this history, well, unless I inadvertently forget to tell you that part.  I have been known to get a bit absent-minded when my mind is on superior matters of science, or the baking of pies.  But I have to admit to my great shame, that I, like most Imperials, was prejudiced against the Nebulons at the start.  We thought them in many ways inferior because of their living technologies and small stature.  What we didn’t realize is that their neotyny, their child-like physical make-up, was evidence that they were indeed more advanced than we in an evolutionary sense.  They were also environmentally friendly, living in symbiotic peace with their living technology. Instead of exploiting worlds, as the humans and Galtorrians had done, they created new living environments.

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Now, my genetic inquiries proved that Nebulons were practically identical to Earthers.  They were capable of interbreeding with us without genetic manipulations.  That makes them more like us than a Galtorrian, even a crossbred Galtorrian/Human fusion.  They also possessed a few advantages we didn’t have.  The copper-sulfate-based pigments in their skins were originally caused by diet and exposure to nebula radiation.  It gave them immunity to radiation that was deadly to any other humanoid.  The bright yellow hair was apparently also due to exotic radiation exposure over centuries.  I formed a theory that Nebulons may have originated on Earth and evolved as they explored deep space, beyond the known stars of the Thousand Worlds.

Now, as to their culture, they center it around living organisms that function symbiotically.  Their spaceships are the Great Nebula Space Whales, those strange fish-shaped balloon-beings that apparently bred in the depths of mighty gas giant planets and migrated to the gaseous clouds of nebula space.  They are much the same size as an Imperial Dreadnaught, and can easily support 500,000 Nebulons in their oxygenated inner chambers.  They even have spaces in their heads where the Nebulon pilots can live and function, tickling nerve endings to get the space behemoths to fold space and jump light years in an instant.  Manipulating jump space is the same whether you do it with a massive photon drive, or the natural glands of a space whale.  It is a matter of using gravity to fold space at a weak point in the fabric of space, making a worm-hole to another part of space, usually no more than six parsecs distant (for those who are math-challenged, that means about nineteen and a half light years), and coming out of jump space at the end of a spider web-like trail that litters space with the cobwebs of interstellar travel.

Nebulons also make clothing of living tissue that keeps the body it surrounds at the proper temperature, and absorbs and digests all dirt, sweat, and dead skin cells.  Nebulon clothing is self-cleaning!  It also grows with the young to avoid the need for ever changing it.  I can’t wear Nebulon cloth without cringing, because I know what it really is, but I am told that if you get used to it, it is like a perfect second skin.

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Nebulons exhibit a child-like love for life, treasuring each others’ presence and having fun almost all the time.  I have come to find them truly endearing.  They rarely go to war with each other, and have to be seriously goaded into fighting by any potential enemy.  It turns out that it is a sad thing that we can’t all be more like Nebulons.  And to think we wasted all those centuries despising them for their differences!

 

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Aeroquest… Canto 3

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Canto 3 – A Game of “Bridge”

 

When Ged and Trav reached the bridge of the Leaping Shadowcat, Tron’s angry face already filled the view screen.  Next to him stood the flame-haired beauty known as Maggie the Knife with one hand protectively shielding their small son, Artran.

“So!  Ged and Ham both?  How could you both be so stupid as to take up with that worthless clown?” growled Tron in a gravelly voice.  His somewhat handsome face was marred not only by anger, but by a hideous laser scar that ran from the top of the left side of his forehead, through the eye socket of his artificial left eye, down to the left side of his lantern jaw.

“Tron,” said Ged as diplomatically as he could manage, “You know me.  You know I would never take up with a swindler and a pirate like Trav willingly.  You must also know that I have troubles of my own about now.  If you leave us in peace, I can promise Trav’s presence aboard this ship will result in banishment for him.  You will never see his face in Imperial Space again.”

“Ged, I respect you more than any other space man I know.  Your word is good, and you never lie.  I wish your worthless brother and I both had your integrity.  We’d be kings among men.  But Goofy stole a priceless treasure from us and both Slimeball Harris and Blue Death Jones just died trying to get it back.  Both of their corsairs were destroyed by that rotten space barge Goofy was flying.”

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“You’re moaning about Slimeball and Old Blue?” asked Trav in an incredulous voice.

“Well, those corsair ships were very valuable!” growled Tron.

“Oh,” replied Trav.  “Sorry.”

“What if we give you the treasure, Tron?” asked Ham.

“No!” cried Trav.  “You have to let me explain that to you in private, first!”

“Yes,” growled Tron.  “Give me the blue metal box and the Nebulon slave girl. You can keep the rest. And you can keep Goofy forever, for all I care.”

“Now, wait!” interrupted Ged.  “Slavery is just plain wrong.”

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“Yes,” said Tron, “but this one is a princess among the Space Smurfs.  She is the first daughter to the Sinjarac Warlord, whatever that means.  We’re not just talking slave here, but a potentially valuable hostage for the Imperial Space Navy.  They would pay well to get their hands on her.”

“Why a hostage?” asked Ham.

“You didn’t see the Imperial Scout Data we intercepted,” said Maggie softly in a musical voice.  “A coreward border war has erupted between a huge convoy of Nebulons in their Space-Whale Cruisers and the Galtorr Imperium.  Nobody in the Imperium seems to know why, but there is a massive migration of Space Smurfs going on just beyond the Imperial Border.”

“You can’t have the girl,” said Ged.  “I’d be happy to give you the box, though.”

“No!” protested Trav.  “You don’t know what’s in it!”

“What is in it?” Ged asked Trav.  His eyes narrowed.

Trav blushed furiously.

“You have to give us what we want.”  Tron seemed too confident.  “We have corsairs blocking every jump route back into known space.  Soon we’ll have a hundred of them here ready to board your crappy little safari ship.”

“Yes,” said Maggie prettily.  “We will take the treasure anyway and you’ll all be skinned alive with a dull knife.”

“Oh, great,” said Ged.

“Are you ready with our little surprise?” Trav asked Ham.

“It’s plotted in the nav computer,” Ham answered.

“It’s time to hit it, then.”

Ham leaped into the pilot’s seat and slammed down on the jump button.  The jump into lightspeed-plus was jarring.  Space began to fold around the ship.  The surprised faces of Tron and Maggie the Knife faded away into white static, soon replaced by a red-and-blue-shifting starfield in jump space.

“What have you done?” Ged asked Ham with shock on his face.

“You didn’t think I would start this leap of faith without at least one jump already planned and programmed?”

“Trav?” asked Ged.

“Oh, yes.  I plotted a course to a planet almost nobody has ever heard of.  It’s a place with the silly name of Don’t Go Here.”

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Aeroquest – Canto 2

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Canto 2 – A Bit of Blue

 

The two spaceships finally locked together belly to belly in the middle of a barrel roll.  Dalgoda’s fireball was tearing itself apart from inside.  Flaming projectiles tore free on every side of it, sparking out in airless space.  Meanwhile, Tron’s Pinwheel Corsairs were bathing the two spiraling space dancers with hot laser fire.  Two of the six corsairs had a pretty decent lock on Trav’s ship and were peeling more chunks off the drive core.

“Ged!” hollered Ham, “can you get the Goofer out of his ship before it blows?”

“I can try,” said Ged, more to himself than to Ham.  His brother was busy trying to fly the ship in a carnival-ride maneuver.

Ged scrambled down the hatchway ladder to the ventral docking port.  The metal around the port doorway was already glowing red from heat.  With a moment of panicky concentration, his hands grew fire-lizard scales all over them, like gloves that appeared out of nowhere.  How did he do this thing?  Well, he had to admit to himself that as a safari leader, he’d skinned more than a few of the fire-resistant xeno-beasts in the past twenty years.  He knew the feel and look of the skin quite well.  His protected hands could spin the locking wheel of the heated door and throw it open without singeing his fingers off.

“Goofy?  You there?”

“Atta-boy, Ged-boy!  You’re a hero.”

Ged expected to see the thin, eye-patched face next, but instead he found himself looking into the beautiful blue face of a Nebulon woman.

“Who are you?” Ged asked with open mouth.

The blue-skinned young lady with the yellow hair just shrugged and eyed Ged like she didn’t understand.

“She’s part of my treasure, Ged!” called a goofy voice from somewhere behind her.  “Pull her into your ship.  Not all Nebulon slave girls speak Galactic English, you know!”

Ged pulled her into the Leaping Shadowcat.

“Here’s more,” called Trav.

An elfin blue-skinned boy with bright yellow hair was held up next to be rescued.

“Another slave?”

“He’s the son of the Nebulon Princess.”

“Your son?”

“No way!  I’m greedy, not perverted!”

Ged couldn’t argue that.  He pulled the boy in too.

“Where’d you get the cool lizard gloves, Ged?” asked Trav as he clambered through the doorway and eyed the scales with his one uncovered eye.

“I kinda made them,” Ged answered sheepishly.

“Is our boy, Ham, ready to jump out of this mess?”

“I hope so.”

“Good.”  Trav hauled a huge gravitic cargo-bag into the ship after him and slammed the portal door.  “Eeyow!” he cried as he burned holes through the fingers of his own gloves.  It was fortunate the Goof always wore those stupid white gloves.  They saved him from burning flesh off his fingers.

“Ham, you can let ‘er go!” hollered Ged into his commo dot.  The communicator was glued comfortably to his throat.

They heard a rumble as the Leaping Shadowcat released her grip on Trav Dalgoda’s nameless ball of flame and melting hull.  The rumble was followed shortly by a huge boom and jarring shockwave.

“Ged!  Get the Goofer up here.  We’ve got big problems with his corsair friends.”

Ged’s eyes widened.  “What happened that made that shock wave?”

“Goofy’s ship exploded and took out two of the trailing corsairs.”

“Jeez!” moaned Goofy, “I hope Maggie and Tron are all right.  They’re good friends of mine.”

“Do I read the situation right?” asked Ged.  “If they live, they are going to kill us?”

“Well, yes, but I still love Tron like a brother.”

Ged nodded unhappily.  He wished he lived in the same alternate universe as Trav Dalgoda.

Junior Aero

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Today’s Little Accomplishment

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Today I completed a goal for this week.  I went to Amazon Kindle free publishing and self-published Stardusters and Space Lizards.  The cover plan shown above is for the print version priced at $4.85 on Amazon.  There will also be a $.99 Kindle version.  I am a bit wiped out from formatting, but I used this book as the learning tool.  More will be forth-coming in my rush to publish before the end of life on Earth.  Ironically, saving a planet is one of the major themes of this book.  So it is a comedy about alien invasions, cannibalism, and the end of all life on the planet.  Where do I find all these hilarious themes, do you suppose?  Ah, well.

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Aeroquest – Adagio 1 – Googol Marou

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Adagio 1 – Googol Marou

 

Sometimes a good historical tale requires the right story-teller to really explain it correctly.  Sorry, you are stuck with me, Professor Googol Marou.  I am an astronomer and physicist, not the kind of story-teller I knew so well when the events I will try to relate to you actually happened.

I am not calling this bit “Chapter Two” like an ordinary writer with writing sense would.  No, I am following the unscientific metaphors that Ged Aero himself always used when telling a story.  He talked about the universe as if it were a symphony played by musical instruments that don’t make sounds.  Their musical notes are actually lights and energies, physics, if you will, or some such nonsense as that.  So the first chapter was called a “Canto”, a section of poetry or lyrics, intended to be sung out loud.  This little pile of narrative nonsense is primarily exposition, a part that is probably good to know about, but it won’t kill you if you skip it.  It won’t kill the story either… hopefully.  I may also use “Nocturnes” in the course of this tale, classical movements of romance and sensual beauty.  And I am looking forward to the “Scherzos”, the short interludes of comic musicality and brief relief from the heavier fare.

My over-all plan for this tale is to tell you how a group of teachers were able to make history and change the Imperium of a Thousand Worlds, turning it into the New Star League, even though the stars in it were billions of years old.

Ged Aero

Now, you might wonder how it is that a group of teachers were able to conquer and realign the very stars, especially since they didn’t know they were teachers at the outset, but I swear it is true.  I’m not the liar Trav Dalgoda was.  And, even though I didn’t personally witness everything I intend to tell you, I did participate a bit.  And, I was able to learn even more through my special telescope.

Space in the era of this history was already partially colonized by human beings who originated on Earth. Four branches of Earthers had reached out to the stars and planets of the Orion Spur of the Sagittarius Spiral Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy.  The Texans had created the Coreward Union of Inhabited Worlds, also known as the Pan Galactican Union.  Those fools in their plasticized cowboy hats had a way of running roughshod over the galaxy until they met forces more determined and self reliant than they were.  I don’t apologize for Space Cowboys, there really is no excuse for them, but they were a necessary part of the cultural mix that preceded the New Star League.

The Japanese had reached out to the Trailing Area of the Spur and their colonies disappeared from known space. Many thought they had run afoul of a powerful alien menace.  In some ways, it was probably the truth.  Still, the inscrutable Space Samurai would come back to haunt us in a new incarnation.  It would prove to be the right thing at the right time.

The Southern European Union had branched out towards the Nebulas of the Leading Edge of the Orion Spur.  There they founded an exclusive humans-only Empire called the Classical Worlds.  They were so pig-headedly convinced of their own perfection and superiority, that they took to living everywhere as Space Nudists, shaping the environment to accommodate the human form rather than making any adaptations themselves.  These descendants of the French, Italians, and Greeks adopted Greco-Roman dress and culture, and I mean the Ancient form that had served the original Greeks and Romans back on Earth, the culture of social nudity and reverence for the naked human form.  They were very enlightened about philosophy and science, but as buck-naked people, they had absolutely no fashion sense.  They were also unusually prejudiced towards any intelligent being that wasn’t human.  They never seemed to figure out that most humans weren’t really intelligent beings.  Still, in the long run, we needed them too.  Good thing we didn’t have to look at them often… well, unless we really wanted to.

And finally, the Eastern European Space Initiative had made maximum use of their discovery of the humanoid lizard Galtorrians discovered in the Delta Pavonis Star System on a planet known as Galtorr Prime.  They established their Imperium in the center of the Orion Spur.  Something about the Germans and Russians just naturally dove-tailed with the lizard peoples of Galtorr.  The Galtorrian lizard-men and humans became the first genetically altered, melded race in known space.  They were able to take advantage of the many genetic similarities between humans and reptiloids for the purposes of making the two species into one, the Galtorrian Imperial Lizard Race.  They were like humans in every way, even mostly blond-haired and blue-eyed, but their snake-like eyes had vertically slitted pupils. They discovered they could thrive in Earth-like worlds and hostile Galtorr Prime-like worlds equally well.  They used their supposedly superior breeding to field vast space armies and navies of powerful starships and began conquering their neighbors.  This, of course, included the conquest and devastation of the Earth itself.

The Galtorr Imperium had been established almost 500 years before Ged and Ham Aero started the Great Outworld Expansion of 5526 C.E.  People would come to call the Imperium the “Thousand Planets” because of the 1,212 inhabited worlds in the 882 stellar systems it had conquered or colonized.  It was not the securely settled Orion Spur that I am sure you enjoy now.  It was necessary to keep an active scout service even in the heavily populated center of the Imperium.  Information traveled only as fast as the fastest starships, and one end of the Imperium rarely knew what was happening in the other end.  There had been a need for the Galtorrians to fight three Jihads and five Unification Wars.  Pirates and Privateers were everywhere.

No merchant traveled safely. New colonies often disappeared without a murmur.  Delivering goods meant risking life and limb.  Of course, some of my best friends were pirates at one time.  You shouldn’t really hold that against them.  But, it is no wonder that an outworld expansion required someone of great courage and character to step out of the general darkness.

Now, I’m sure you are wondering, “Who are you, Professor Googol Marou, to be telling us about the distant past over so many light years of space?”  Well, that would be a good question.  I’ve been described as a “total nut-job” on many occasions. I know what I’m talking about, though, because I’ve studied history in action through the Marou Ancient Light Holo-Assembler Telescope (the MALHAT).  It takes the collected light from the stars and planets we see, and reassembles it in a holo-recording that shows what happened at the moment those light particles reflected off the event.  The true genius, of course, was in finding the quantum shape-memory in photon particles and building a re-assembler.  That means that to view the past as it was 500 years ago, all you have to do is look at it from 500 light years away and gather 500 year old light.  This I could do from the relative safety of a space platform or space ship.  I mostly preferred a scientifically-oriented lab ship, but also found Ham Aero’s quaint little hunting ship serviceable as well.  And, I invented this wonderful thing.

Ham Aero

I won’t lecture you now on the fierce repressions of the Galtorr Imperium.  Most of that goes without saying, and if you’ve heard of them at all, you know it is true.

I know you are probably still marveling over the simple brilliance of the Marou Ancient Light Holo-Assembler telescope!  I can’t blame you.  I’m still amazed that I invented it.  It makes me have to stop in the middle of my thesis just to marvel at myself.  Wow!  Aren’t I wonderful?

What I will tell you, though, is that the Aero brothers left known space because Ged was slowly transforming into a rare form of Psion known as a Shape-Changer.  Like the telepaths, pyros, savants, teleporters, and telekinetics who made up the usual run of Psions, shape-changers could make use of their entire brain system in a conscious way to control the universe around them by mind power alone.  That is not to say that they were any smarter, wiser, or more moral that the rest of us, just unusually gifted with special brain powers.

The Imperium hated Psions because they were so much harder to control.  They actively hunted, persecuted, and, often, even executed Psions.  I, myself, am not a Psion, but you will note in the course of this history, when I come into the picture to play a key role, that I have a real affinity for Psions and their way of life.  So, as the story continues, please don’t doubt the veracity and mental stability of my observations.  I’m a genius, after all.  My inventions prove it.

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Therein Lies the Treasure

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Yesterday I finished a novel.  Yes, it was a novel that was more playtime than serious attempt at great literature.  But just because it was fun and not painful to write does not make it unworthy of making the effort.

In fact, writing projects like that are really the only thing that keeps me going in spite of pain, illness, and the frustrations of trying to stay alive and thrive.

 

So, here are the Cantos of this book as it appears on this blog;

Canto 1 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 26 xxxxxxxxx Canto 51

Canto 2 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 27 xxxxxxxxx Canto 52

Canto 3 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 28 xxxxxxxxx Canto 53

Canto 4 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 29 xxxxxxxxx Canto 54

Canto 5 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 30 xxxxxxxxx Canto 55

Canto 6 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 31 xxxxxxxxx Canto 56

Canto 7 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 32 xxxxxxxxx Canto 57

Canto 8 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 33 xxxxxxxxx Canto 58

Canto 9 xxxxxxxxxx Canto 34 xxxxxxxxx Canto 59

Canto 10 xxxxxxxxx Canto 35 xxxxxxxxx Canto 60

Canto 11 xxxxxxxxx Canto 36 xxxxxxxxx Canto 61

Canto 12 xxxxxxxxx Canto 37 xxxxxxxxx Canto 62

Canto 13 xxxxxxxxx Canto 38 xxxxxxxxx Canto 63

Canto 14 xxxxxxxxx Canto 39 xxxxxxxxx Canto 64

Canto 15 xxxxxxxxx Canto 40 xxxxxxxxx Canto 65

Canto 16 xxxxxxxxx Canto 41 xxxxxxxxx Canto 66

Canto 17 xxxxxxxxx Canto 42 xxxxxxxxx Canto 67

Canto 18 xxxxxxxxx Canto 43 xxxxxxxxx Canto 68

Canto 19 xxxxxxxxx Canto 44

Canto 20 xxxxxxxxx Canto 45

Canto 21 xxxxxxxxx Canto 46

Canto 22 xxxxxxxxx Canto 47

Canto 23 xxxxxxxxx Canto 48

Canto 24 xxxxxxxxx Canto 49

Canto 25 xxxxxxxxx Canto 50

So there it is, all 43,403 words of it, published for free on WordPress, accessible by this post if you bookmark it.  Comments, suggestions, humiliations, and conflagrations are all welcome.

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Stardusters… Canto 68

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Canto Sixty-Eight  – Return to the Moon Gundahl

The golden wings that could be retrieved touched down on the moon base where Biznap and Xiar had established a new colony for the Telleron people.   Material synthesizers were busy churning out components for a new Telleri-swamp enclosure.  The ruined Galtorrian fortress was swiftly becoming the kind of homey organic mess of a construct that the Tellerons had left behind and lost track of at Barnard’s Star.

The entry doors of Harmony Castille’s mission wing popped open with a snap-hiss worthy of a cobra celebrating victory over a mongoose.  Many mongooses in fact.  Harmony and Shalar both led the way down the ramp, rushing into the arms of their beloveds, Biznap and Xiar respectively.

“Bizzy, we have conquered a planet for you at last,” Harmony said happily.

“The evil Senator and his minions are defeated?”  Biznap asked.

“Defeated and eaten and dead,” said Shalar.  “Those the man-eating Lester-flowers didn’t eat were turned into food by material synthesizer and fed to starving Galtorrian survivors.”

“How about the little ones?” Xiar asked.  “The missing children from our ship and the little wounded lizard girl?”

“We found all the tadpoles alive and well, except for Tanith and Davalon, who got a little bit crunched under a falling space ship. And they are recovering in the same hospital room with Sizzahl, the little lizard scientist.  That one will be invaluable to us if we are going to help the natives rebuild a society here.”

“Tanith and Davalon?  Is that the one who saved our behinds on Earth and his nestmate, the pretty one?” asked Xiar.

“Xiar!  You don’t know your own offspring even yet?” said Harmony.

“Well, I, uh… hey, I remembered them correctly, didn’t I?”

“You did,” said Shalar.  She practiced the human thing about kissing him on the cheek affectionately.

“And they stayed on the planet?” asked Biznap.

“Yes.  Alden and Gracie Morrell are looking after all the tadpoles, along with their new children, the half-human, half-lizard fusions.”  Harmony’s eyes twinkled as she talked about it.  “They will be great parents, even though they are perpetually child-sized themselves.  They even have me thinking about adopting some children myself.”

“We have plenty of Galtorrian orphans right here,” said Biznap.  “Teenage lizard boys and teenage lizard girls.  Still think you can handle teenagers?  Even the toothy ones?”

Harmony laughed a Sunday-school-teacher laugh.  No mere child would ever get the best of her and her beloved Bible.  She’d have those heathens tamed in no time.

“And just think,” said Xiar with a grin, “none of this could’ve happened if your Earther primate wife hadn’t corrected your math.”

Biznap grimaced.  “Yeah, working on math and star-charts is going to be a thing for the next few years.”

“You’re not looking forward to living here?” Harmony asked.

“I guess I’d better get used to the idea.  We are not going anywhere else until the coordinates to everything in the universe have been fixed.  We don’t know where Earth or Barnard’s Star, or even Telleri were misplaced at now.  Their correct positions have to be fixed.”

“Fixed in your charts, you mean,” Harmony said.  “I think they are still right where God originally put them.”

“Yes, I guess they are,” Biznap finally admitted.

So now, dear reader, after having posted a chapter every Tuesday for over a year, I have managed to post an entire novel, three years in the writing, for free on WordPress.  Now that I have accomplished such a stupid feat, I am going to try to publish this thing, along with many other things I have finished writing.  Fair warning.  I am certainly not done inflicting Mickian fiction on the world.  This world… not Galtorr Prime.  Sorry if I misled you there.  I know lots of Galtorrian lizard folk are looking forward to reading this story.  But they will have to be extremely patient.

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The Creature I Have Become

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I identify as a humorist, writer, cartoonist, and certified fool (Yes, I have a certificate from the Children’s Writer Institute that proves I once foolishly believed I could learn how to make money as a writer).  But my current novel project is a horror novel, The Baby Werewolf, which I twice before tried to turn into a completed rough draft novel. This time I mean to follow through to the bitter end.

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Torrie Brownfield, hypertrichosis sufferer and possible werewolf.

In order to reign in the goofiness enough to deal with the issues in this novel I have been doing a lot of horror reading. I have also undertaken the reading of a very good author examination of the life of Edgar Allen Poe.

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Poe’s life was highly instructive.  You may not have realized this, but most of the giants of American Literature prior to and contemporary with Poe did not make most of their money as writers.  Emerson was a clergyman.  Nathaniel Hawthorne worked as a customs clerk. Poe, the first to try to make a living solely on work as a writer, editor, critic, and poet, was subjected to the horrors of poverty, illness, and want.  His wife was chronically tubercular and ill.  He never made the money he was obviously worth as a creator of popular horror fiction, poetry, critical essays about other authors, and as an editor for profitable magazines of the day.  Other people made loads of money from his work.  Poe, not so much.

It is instructive to a writer like me who can’t seem to land any sort of income from my own creations.  There is no demand because there is no recognition of my work.  I have come close, having my work praised by editors and fellow authors, and being a finalist in novel writing contests twice.  The goal is good writing.  I will probably never see a return on my investment in my lifetime.  My children may not acquire anything by it unless one of them really devotes a lot of effort to it.  Like Poe with his drinking problem, chronic depression, and ill wife, I face physical limitations and poor health, grinding financial issues, and family factors that make it near impossible to put marketing effort into my literary career.

And this novel is a hard journey for me.  I was sexually assaulted by an older boy when I was ten.  A lot of the fears outlined and elucidated in this particular story leap right out of that iron cage in my psyche where they have been contained for fifty years.  Fear of nakedness.  Fear of sex.  Fear of being attacked.  Fear of the secret motivations in others.  Fear of the dark.  And, most of all, fear of what fear can make me become.  Fear of being a monster.

But I have not become any of the dark and terrible things that fear can make me into.  Instead I became a school teacher, mentor to many.  I became a family man, father of three children.  I became a nudist, hopefully not a dark and terrible thing in itself.  I became Mickey.

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Stardusters… Canto 67

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Canto Sixty-Seven – The Arboretum Again (We Can’t Seem to Get Out of There)

When Farbick and Starbright finally got to the Arboretum where everyone else had gathered, they got in on the very end of Alden Morrell’s third re-telling of the final battle and deaths of Tedhkruhz and Makkhain.  Alden had gotten rather good rather quickly at telling the tale, complete with the sound effects at the climax of Lester smacking his huge petal-lips as he/she/it devoured both combatants.

Starbright then went to Science Officer Shalar to see if she could help with the medical care for the little wounded lizard girl.

“Was she badly wounded?” Starbright asked.  Farbick continued to hold her hand even as she asked it.

“Yes,” answered Shalar, “It seems she would’ve died if not for the application of this alien device to her throat as she was dying.”

The weak and pale little lizard girl smiled up at them.  “It’s a tissue-knitter given to our people by the  Zeta Reticulans as a gift when they left our planet for good.  Makkhain wasn’t supposed to have it, but he stole it from the evil Senator’s treasure room to save me if he was forced to try and kill me.”

“You were lucky that Makkhain was still himself even though he was a clone,” said Gracie Morrell.

“That was Senator Tedhkruhz thinking he could completely control the clone with his hypno-programming.  Makkhain was still free to do whatever the Senator had forgotten to tell him not to do.”  Sizzahl smiled at Gracie.  “I think you know something about the value of love when it comes to clones,” she said to Gracie.

“Yes, if a simuloid Telleron clone had not sacrificed himself out of love for humanity, I would not even be here,” Gracie said.

“And you wouldn’t be a child again either,” added Alden, somewhat ironically.

“But, Alden, don’t you love being young and fresh and full of energy again?” Gracie asked him.

“Yeah, I suppose I do.  We are going to need it raising those clone children.”

“What’s this about children?” Starbright asked.

“Sizzahl used some of Alden’s DNA to create five little boys and five little girls that  are half human from Earth and half lizard people from Galtorr Prime.”  Gracie was beaming like an expectant mother, even though she looked like a little girl herself.

“I was expecting the fusion children to be the new people of this planet.  I really didn’t think any Galtorrians would survive,” Sizzahl said.  She was still weak and looked ill, but as she rested in Shalar’s protective embrace, she was obviously recovering.

“So, let me understand this,” Starbright said.  “The Morrells are finally going to have children of their own, and all of the survivors are going to restore and repopulate this planet?”

“That’s about how I see it,” said Shalar, the Science Officer, giving the idea the rubber stamp of scientific approval.

“Well,” said Starbright, “It’s about time we got in on this whole love and marriage thing too, Farbick and I.”

“The two of you are going to get married?” asked Alden, looking shocked in the fakest possible manner.

“Well,” said Farbick, “She hasn’t officially asked me yet.”

“Farbick, will you marry me?” Starbright asked, smiling  brightly, like a star.

“Of course I will, my love.”

“Gee, that’s just like in some old movie,” said Alden.

“I don’t remember the name of it,” said Farbick, “but it was an old black and white movie I got it from.”

Farbick laughed as Starbright slugged him on the shoulder.

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Stardusters… Canto 66

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Canto Sixty-Six – The Arboretum Again

Senator Tedhkruhz entered the arboretum with a glum look on his smug face, but it quickly blossomed into a smug smile as he viewed the scene before him.  In fact, his smile became so smarmy and smug that his smirky grin gave off waves of puerile smugness.

“So, Makkhain, you have succeeded in our little quest to kill the planet savers, have you?”

Makkhain, cradling Sizzahl’s apparently lifeless body, looked at him with a glare of pure hatred.  The two naked Earthers, both children, glared at him also. He also noted the little Telleron sitting against a huge yellow, red, and green flower thing.

“Where’s your conquering army, Senator?” Makkhain growled.

“I don’t need them.  We shut down this base, which I believe controls all the atmosphere restorers on the planet, and we have won.  The  world ends, and we are the winners.”

“Aren’t you afraid that without your army, I will turn on you and kill you for what you’ve done to me, my family, and my world?”

“Oh, certainly not.  You are a clone.  And you’ve been thoroughly programmed to do what I ask you to do.”

“Is that so?”  Makkhain laid Sizzahl gently down and stood, knife in hand.  He carefully balanced it in his right hand for throwing.

“Go ahead.  Try to throw the knife at me.”

He cocked his mighty lizard arm to throw, and then started to whip his throwing arm forward.  But he couldn’t release.  The knife clattered harmlessly on the floor.

“You see?  You are completely in my power.  Now destroy the controls of the atmospheric instruments.”

Makkhain smiled.  “I can’t overcome your programming, it’s true.  But I no longer do your bidding.”

“Oh, but you have to.  Destroy those controls now!”

Makkhain continued to grin.  The two Earthers and the Telleron were smiling now too.

“What is this?  Why are you not doing what I command?”

“Because I can’t, fool.  I don’t know where the controls are, and Sizzahl can’t tell me because she’s unconscious and probably dying.”

Senator Tedhkruhz lost his smug smile. A look of consternation crossed his ugly lizard face.

“Are you sure you can’t kill him?” the Earther male said.

“I can’t.  But others in the room can.  And I can’t harm him, but I can dance with him.”

“Dance with me?” the Senator scoffed.

“By your command,” Makkhain said.  He moved up to Tedhkruhz and took him by both hands.  They began to whirl around each other, Makkhain leading the lizard dance and forcing the Senator to go tripping along.  The Senator grimaced as he realized how he had uttered precisely the wrong words at precisely the wrong time.

“Is Lester still hungry for Galtorrian flesh, Brekka?” Makkhain asked.

“Dance him this way,” said the Telleron girl with and angry-eyed grin.

It didn’t dawn on the lizard-man overlord until too late that Makkhain was steering the dance directly toward three big moving blossoms lined with what could easily be interpreted as teeth.  He obviously should’ve ordered Makkhain to stop dancing and let him go, but nothing came out of his throat but a hoarse, frightened croak.

The plant attacked with all three blossoms.  One grabbed Makkhain and took two bites and swallowed.  The other two grabbed Tedhkruhz, one by the head, the other by both legs.  They pulled him into two pieces before each happily munched on their half of the wishbone.

The children who remained in the arboretum, three awake and aware, one lying unconscious, were stunned into silence by the sudden end to violence.  It was then that they heard and answered the anxious voice of a former old Sunday school teacher turned young war leader.  The rest of the Telleron army was suddenly at the arboretum door.

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