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[jpitha]

Hi, I just started reading your Between the Black and Gray story and I wanted to knowif there are any other stories you would reccomend me to read beforehand so I understand most things.

Your writing is awesome! Cheers

You can go back and read the one that I wrote before this one, Just A little Further I'm a better writer now; but it's still readable.

Get comfortable with the idea that sometimes the characters will mention something and not explain it. I don't like being info-dumpy and people aren't like that in real life. Most of my world can be figured out with context clues.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 35

First / Previous / Next

Fen looked at the racks and racks of clothes in the store and sighed.

When Northern said that Fen 'owed her' she had no idea that part of paying that back was going... shopping.

Starbase Picaresque was an old, old station. Built around first contact with the K'laxi, it had undergone many different iterations. A science station, a seat of colonial government and even a bullwark in a few wars, these days it lead a much more... touristy life. Fine dining, shopping, and all inclusive entertainment were what it was known for these days. Out on the border between human and k'laxi space it was also where the closest Gate to human space was.

Such a nexus naturally lent itself to a comingling of sapients. When it was just the humans and k'alxi, there was an unusually high amount of integration. These days many different peoples call this place home, though most of them are here to work at all the different venues that are hosted.

Northern loved clothing. Fen had no idea when she first signed on because she packed so lightly, but as they settled and continued to work together, Northern's clothing hobby grew. Fen was much more of a practical, hard wearing clothes person, so this was a new experience for her.

Zhe was more interested than Fen was, and Picaresque had more than ample supplies of haute k'laxi fashion, so both of them were able to meander from store to store, eyeing outfits that would have made Fen's eyes water at the price when she lived at home.

Northern came out of the dressing room clad head to toe in a ball gown made of iridescent feathers. Fen had no idea what animal produced them, or even if the animal was real, but she shone when she walked, and as she spun, the long dress flashed and sparkled. "What do you think?"

"It's very... bright" Fen squinted as Northern spun again."

"Eeee, it's amazing Northern! Are you going to get it?" Zhe's tail swished as she squealed in joy.

"I don't know. I love it, but when would I wear it? It's not like we go out to dinner very often."

"We'll just have to start going out more, that's all!" Zhe said. She was carrying two or three bags of her own. She had already purchased two outfits and three pairs of shoes.

As the women talked logistics of how to use luxury gowns, Fen looked longingly towards the exit. As she did, she noticed a commotion outside.

There were a group of 5 women talking and gesturing animatedly. "Come on Meredith! I've heard of this place! They're supposedly the best in the outer colony worlds!" One of the woman, with long brown hair pointed at the store Fen was dying of boredom in.

"All right Emery, let's go see what they have and if it can even compare to Ganymede." said the woman in the center of the group. All of them wore similar outfits - uniforms really - though the young woman in the middle was wearing jewelry that was much more expensive. Fen had an eye for jewelry. Even growing up she was able to tell the cheap stuff from the expensive. It gave her a leg up when people asked her about stuff 'they found.'

The women poured into the shop and started talking all at once. Immediately Fen could smell the alcohol. If it was just another wine-soaked party it was one of a higher class. Stores like this tended to cater to people who spent a yearly salary on one outfit. Northern walked over to Fen and watched them, a robotic tailor shuffling after her and trying to fit the dress while she was still wearing it. "Who are those people, Fen?"

Fen shook her head. "Just some group of rich women day drinking I think. They have Sol accents. Probably out on a girl's weekend or something. The one in the middle is wearing very expensive jewelry though, check out that necklace she has on. That sapphire could probably buy a frigate."

Northern narrowed her eyes as she watched them stagger around the store. "Shit." She grabbed Fen by the shoulders and turned her around and marched her back to Zhe. "We gotta go. Now."

"What? Why?" Zhe was halfway dressed into a similar gown as Northern, but with a more k'laxi flare. Another tailor kept weaving as Zhe moved around.

"That's the Empress." Northern hissed.

Fen turned back to look at them. "Don't look at them!" Northern's voice rose. Fen turned back. "What? Her? The rich girl with the short hair?"

Northern nodded vigorously. "I'd bet anything that's her."

"Zhe peered around Northern. "Who is with her?"

"Some kind of honor guard or something. They probably are all super soldiers or something."

Zhe's tail flicked. "Are you sure? They look like party girls. They also look drunk."

"What?" As Northern turned to look at them again, she saw one of them taking a large drink from an unmarked bottle. The drinker passed it to the Empress who took a healthy belt of the beverage as well. "What the fuck?"

"Ancestors look at that dress! It's unbelievable!" Before they could react, the women came up to Fen and Northern and Zhe.

"Did you get that here?"

"What are those feathers?"

"Is that custom? It fits you so well!"

"Do you want to go shopping with us?"

Fen blinked. "W-what?"

One of the women nodded. She had hair that was half shaved and te rest combed up. She looked very rakish. "You three are cute, and you clearly have good taste. Well, except your bodyguard here-" she pointed at Fen "-but I won't hold that against you. Come shop and drink with us. My name is Alina, and this is is Kerry, and this is Emery, this is Tina she's Meredith." Alina pointed to Meredith, who was getting fitted for a dress by now.

"Uh, sure, okay." Fen said. Northern elbowed her in the ribs.

"Fancy! Come on. Meredith says she knows of the best place to get dinner. We were on our way there when we saw this place."

The ladies swarm Meredith while she gets fitted, offering suggestions and compliments. Northern crowds close to Fen. "Why did you say yes?" she hissed.

"I-I... don't know. If she's the Empress, maybe we should get to know her better."

"Fen you have an Empress Nanite package. Who knows what happens if you two get together. Who even knows if she still has hers. What do you think will happen if she finds out you have Nanites?"

Whatever happens, it will be interesting

Ugh, quite you. She thinks. "We're just being polite. We'll go out to dinner, get the bill picked up by the Empress of Sol, and be on our way. It'll be an experience. A story we'll tell over drinks."

"Also, she's pretty cute" Zhe adds, back in her regular clothes. "You think she's single?" She gasps "Do you think she likes k'laxi?" Her fur ripples a blush "Do you think she'll like me?"

"Easy there Zhe. Don't go trying to sleep with the Empress of Sol just yet. You haven't even met her officially." Northern laughs. "Though, it would be perfect if the Empress wound up dating a k'laxi. They are notoriously... xenophobic these days." She shrugs her shoulders. "You know what? Fine. We'll go to dinner and talk to them. It looks like only two of them are armed, and it's just concealed pistols. Heavy weapons aren't allowed on Picaresque anyway, so there is only so much damage they can do. She must be here unofficially because nobody had made any changes or attempts to bow and scrape."

"What?" Zhe looks confused.

"Zhe, if she's the Empress, then she should have like-" Northern gestures weakly "- a whole flotilla with her. Dreadnaughts, Super Dreadnaughts, honor guard, battalions of soldiers, nobles, all that kind of stuff. Just her and 4 ladies getting day drunk while shopping isn't very... imperial. Maybe she's just here quietly to try and not be Empress for a little while."

"So we should not admit to recognizing her?"

"Nah, we're just going to act like she's a normal ultra rich person with some friends."

"Northern, if you recognized her, surely others did?" Fen watches them continue to try on clothes, piling their purchases on top of the patient arms of another tailor bot.

"Maybe. But I imagine that half of the recognition people would have is of the pomp, not the person. By herself, she's just another young woman. I bet she isn't as recognized as you think. Also, anyone who does recognize her is probably worried about what would happen if they pointed it out. Her mother was... notorious about that kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?" Zhe looks up at Northern.

Northern makes an old gesture. She sticks out her thumb and draws it across her neck.

"Oh."

"Yeah, so. watch yourselves around her. She might be nice... or she might be nice until we say something she doesn't like." Northern frowns slightly. "I dont' like it."

They exit the store and stand around while Meredith and her crew finishes shopping. They come out a quarter hour later with almost as many bags as Zhe and Northern have. "Come on, it's this way" Alia signals as they start walking.

She leads them down the promenade towards the common area in the front. In Picaresque, the common is a large garden with a unique blend of Earth and K'laxi plants. There are subtle barriers to keep the Earth plants from taking over, but it all looks very natural and integrated. At Meredith's direction, Alina leads them towards a very elegant looking restaurant at the edge of the common. Fully half of the restaurant is in the common, open tables and booths interspersed among the plants, trees and water of the common. Alina and... Kerry heads up to the maître d' and speak to him in a low voice. Kerry gestures back towards the group and his eyes widen in surprise. He quickly nods and snaps his fingers.

Out of seemingly nowhere, three servers appear carrying a large table already set with a white linen tablecloth. They bring it out to a corner of the restaurant and slide the already existing tables and chairs out of the way. The evening is young and the restaurant isn't full, but they do have to shoo a few guests away towards another part of the restaurant. The maître d' clucking apologetically at them as they're settled elsewhere.

Before any time at all passes, the table is set with seats and table service for everyone. As they sit, the sommelier appears with a cart clinking gently with bottles. He presents a list - real, actual paper - to Meredith and she looks it over with a critical eye. She discusses a few things with the sommelier, and he nods solemnly. He looks up and makes eye contact with the maître d' and two more carts of wine are immediately brought out. A selection of 4 bottles are put on the table and opened. Meredith is poured a small sample which she sniffs, swirls, sniffs again and takes a tentative sip. She smiles broadly and the sommelier visibly relaxes. He leaves a cart of bottles next to her and wheels the other two away. Servers pour the wine - quite a healthy pour if Fen is any judge - and they all take a drink.

"To new friends!" One of the hangers on - Tina maybe? - toasts. Everyone mumbles agreement and drinks. Northern is very delicate with her sips; she told Fen she can eat and drink, but she doesn't like it much. Zhe demures as while the alcohol won't hurt her, the other compounds in the wine absolutely will and Fen takes a healthy sip. It's sour and fruity and dark and tastes of berries and dark chocolate and really is quite good. By the time she puts her glass down, Meredith is pouring another and her friends are most of the way through theirs as well.

Dinner is... an extended affair. It seems that Kerry told them who they were dealing with - if not outright saying she was the Empress then at least impressing how important she is - and the restaurant went all out. No menus, purely a menu based on the best ingredients the chef had as well as things for Zhe to eat, artfully prepared on fine china plates. More wine is poured as needed and Fen takes care of Zhe's glasses and eventually, Northerns and by dessert she's quite drunk.

"Tell me Fen, what's it's like being a mercenary?" Tina is staring at her, with her hands on her chin. Her eyes are deep and her cheeks are flushed. Is she blushing or drunk? Fen can't tell.

"s' not so bad. Lotsa assholes in the galaxy, and they need us to do something or other. Mos' of the time we're just bringing shi from one part of space to another. Somtimes people, sometimes boxes." Fen takes another sip of her wine, and Northern frowns - Fen didn't see it though. "Pays all right, and s' not tha hard. Bettern where I was before though."

Meredith perks up. "Oh? Where were you before?"

Zhe and Northern snap to Fen. "Oh, I was on some shihole station way out in Gren space. Grew up in a k'laxi family, had a wife, the whole deal." Fen's face darkens. "Then she was killed by some gangsters and I got the hell out of there. Guy helped me out too, but then dumped me into an escape pod outside Minaren. I wish I could see him again. Everything worked out, but man oh man was I pissed."

Fen looks around at everyone and takes another gulp of wine. As she puts her glass down, she sees someone walking behind the group in the common.

It's Gord.

"Holy shit! GORD! You shithead!" Fen jumps up out of her chair, knocking it over and launches herself over the elegant topiary as Gord looks up at his name being called in surprise.

Fen is too drunk to connect, and crashes into him bodily.

[jpitha]

At the local lake, this is around the time of year when they do the fish stocking. It's artificial, but it happens to the real lakes, too. Right now, the water is finally thawed out just enough that the park supervisor can roll up a big ol' truck full of fish and dump them into the water. They'll live happy, contented lives in the lake, unless they bite a hook, are abducted by clever seagulls, or someone finds the drain plug at the bottom again like they did back in August of '88 and lets all the water out.

Because the park is really cheap, the community association was looking for someone to pick up the truck, fill it with fish, and drive it to the lake. Since I had no real job at the moment, and needed something to check off the "community service" section of my parole documents, I decided to volunteer. Long-time readers may recall that I also have a small amount of affection for the operation of internal-combustion automobiles, which is a bonus.

Everything went great at the pickup. It turns out that my buddy Halvin was working in the town motor pool and made sure to give me the oldest, shittiest GMC Kodiak in the lot because it would make me more comfortable. What a guy. I was so overjoyed that I didn't even tell him it was me who backed over his mailbox last Christmas. Why ruin the moment?

After some hot twin-stick action to get across town, I was at the fish hatchery. You might not be familiar with one of these things, if you live a boring life. Me, I'm here at least once a year, mostly because their dumpster always has a lot of only-slightly-expired silicone sealants thrown away in it. It was here that I encountered my primary obstacle in completing Mission: Fish Flow.

As for what happened next, the exact details are still being worked out by my attorney. In my defence, however, I have been authorized to state that having over one thousand fish in the back of your 1970s cargo truck should qualify you for the car-pool lane, even if you do ram a state trooper, who – by the way – was riding in the car all by himself, the fucking hypocrite.

[jpitha]

I know I'm the HFY/Deathworlders/Fun Alien Sci-Fi guy, but this is important for writers of all kinds. Get your stuff out of Google if you can.

Okay, so, looks like Google Docs might actually start implementing their rule about not sharing explicit content. (This includes writing.) How in the ever loving fuck am I supposed to back up 1,000+ stories that equate to 3 million+ words into fucking Microsoft Word????? And efficiently, for that matter?! HELP.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 34

First / Previous / Next

Kerry knew better than to duck when the vase was thrown. Luckily, it struck her shoulder instead of her head. Even more luckily, it managed to snag on one of the buttons of her uniform so it shattered. She worried what would have happened to her if it had just bounced off harmlessly.

"Pick that up!" The Empress screamed.

Kerry bent low and started scooping up the pieces of vase. It was from Earth, and easily a thousand years old. Priceless. The Imperial bedroom was floor to ceiling packed with more gimcrackery than Kerry had ever seen. Most of it was worth more than she'd ever see in her life. A broken priceless vase was only a drop in the proverbial priceless bucket. Another attendant bent down to help her, but the Empress snapped her fingers.

"No, not you. She has to do it on her own."

Saying sorry with her eyes, the other attendant stood back up and remained at attention. This had been going on all day. All week really. Everyone at the palace was walking on eggshells. The Empress was in a mood most foul.

Empress Meredith The 3rd was not having a good year. Early on, she lost three Super Dreadnoughts to something. Something nobody has been able to properly explain, even with high amounts of encouragement. The only thing anyone knows is that Dreams of Hyacinth was destroyed and took out the other two Supers - her three oldest ones! - on the final approach to Minaren. The damned K'laxi - useless, all of them - have no idea who did it, no person or group has stepped forward to claim responsibility, nothing. Ships don't explode for no reason, she shouted at her Admiralty, but they had the temerity to explain that yes, sometimes they do. Starships are large, complicated machines and even with the highest quality maintenance - something that may not have been carried out at all times (the Admiral with a known death wish stated this) - they can explode for no reason.

The K'laxi had even questioned a frigate that was passing by at the time, but they didn't see anything, and the K'laxi didn't think it was worth their time to execute or even imprison the captain of the frigate. They asked them if they had seen anything - of course they hadn't - and let them go on their way. Useless!

If that was not bad enough - and it was - Meredith discovered 5 weeks ago that she didn't have a connection with the Nanites anymore. She could implore them to answer her questions all she wanted; silence was their only reply. She tried to use her Voice on her attendants and while they rushed to obey her whims, they did not do it with the absolute robotic precision they used when they were Voiced. So far only her most inner circles of handmaidens, attendants, valets and other hangers on knew. Her Admirals had no idea and none of the Venusian nobility knew, and she was keenly aware that it had to stay that way.

She stood up from her couch and paced her room. This was supposed to be easy! You walk around, you give some orders, you open a new hospital or school, smile and wave for the sensorium and that was it. Then back to the Palace for some well-earned sex with whoever was her flavor of the week and a big dinner. She was facing the impossible. Intrigue. Politics. The Unknown.

One of the handmaidens standing to the side of her bed held out a goblet, half full of a burgundy liquid. Meredith snatched at the wine and drank greedily. She knew how to sip demurely, but behind closed doors she could be herself. Belching, she handed the crystal goblet - also worth more than the handmaiden made in a whole year - back and waited for it to be refilled. This time she drank it more slowly as she paced.

"They're not listening. They can't hear me? They won't hear me? What's going on? I've been a good Empress. I've done all the right things. Kerry!" Kerry's head snapped up and she stood rapidly. The pieces of vase in her uniform shirt lifted up like a basket. "What am I doing wrong?"

"I'm sure you're not doing anything wrong, Empress."

"Then why did they leave?!" Kerry and the others saw then that Meredith wasn't just furious. She was deathly afraid. As if for the first time, she saw Kerry's uniform. "Why is your uniform like that, Kerry? What are you holding?"

"Er, it's the vase you threw at me. You ordered me to pick it up."

Meredith blinked back tears. "And you did? Did the Voice work?"

"Ah, no Empress. I was following regular orders that you gave me."

"Why did you do that?"

Kerry blinked. "Because... this is my job?" She said very slowly.

Empress Meredith stood very slowly. The four women in the room watched her as she strode to the main entrance to her bedchamber, and locked the door. She strode to the servants' entrance and locked that door. She lifted up her mattress and pressed a palm against the lock in the center, and it beeped happily at her.

She walked into the pantry and brought out 4 bottles of wine. A red, from the mountains of Parvati, said to be some of the best in the Galaxy. In the cabinet opposite the wine cooler, she took out 4 more crystal goblets.

She set the wine and the goblets on the table and gestured towards the woman who was pouring the wine earlier, Tina. She shrugged and opened the first bottle with a musical pop. The cork was made of Parvatian corkwood and was fragrant. Empress Meredith the 3rd, leader of Sol, Luna, the Outer Planet Alliance as well as her Colonies and Protector of The K'laxi poured five glasses of wine.

"Kerry, throw that out. Ladies. I need your help. You four are some of the only people who know about my... condition. What do I do?" She gestured towards the wine.

Tina grabbed a glass first and took a sip. "Well, can you tell anyone else?"

Kerry took one next. "No, she can't. The minute she tells someone else she's dead. If people find out the Empress That Can't Be Disobeyed can be, they'll kill her and put someone else on the throne."

"Or worse." Alina, the woman opposite Kerry at the bedchamber door pipes up and takes a glass.

"Is it really that bleak?" Emery takes the last glass of wine and sips it demurely. "Surely everyone in the Nobility and Admiralty won't want to kill you. You must have some people who are loyal to you utterly."

Meredith takes the last glass and flops onto her bed. She pats the mattress and the women sit. "There are some families that are completely loyal, but it's more out of inertia than any kind of love of the Empress. Tch, if the K'laxi found out they'd declare independence before the return ping confirming the beacon was received."

"Okay, let's look at it another way: How do you know they're gone? Other than not having The Voice?" Bruised shoulder aside, Kerry felt sympathetic. Meredith was in the middle of having her world crumble around her.

"I can't hear them."

The girls eyes' widen. "The Nanites talk to you?"

"They used to yeah. Based on how Mom spoke of it, they talked to her more than me. Grandmother complained that they basically never stopped talking."

"What do they say?" Kerry finishes off her wine, but doesn't go for more. Meredith pours her another glass anyway.

"Ugh, they always are trying to tell me what to do. They have ideas. They want us to build more Gates. I keep telling them the wormhole generators work better, but they're like "no we need more Gates." Meredith sighs and rolls her eyes. "They're very boring."

"They want more Gates?"

"Yeah, I think it's how they get into our dimension or something. They tried to explain it to me once, but I practically fell asleep."

"Wait." Alina pauses with the wineglass partway to her lips. "If they use the Gates, what would happen if you went to a Gate? You could talk to them directly!"

"And leave the palace?" Meredith rolls around on the bed, dramatically groaning with her arm over her eyes. "It's so far, and I'd have to ride in a ship, and I'd have to deal with a wormhole link and, and, and..."

Tina's eyes flick to Kerry and Alina and Emery's. They return her gaze.

"Is that worse than others finding out you lost your powers though? We'll never tell, but it'll get out eventually."

"What if just the five of us went!" Emery is animated and on her third glass of wine. "You could take a small ship and just us. Tell everyone you're on some kind of Empress Pilgrimage. Link over to wherever the closest Gate is, talk to the Nanites and come home. Maybe do some light shopping at whatever station is closest."

Meredith raises her arm off her eyes and looks at Emery. "That's an incredibly dangerous idea."

Emery's face falls and she tilts her chin low. "I'm sorry Em-"

"I love it!"

The four handmaidens look shocked.

"It's so stupid! It's so dangerous! It's so exciting. Let's go. Right now?" She takes a whole bottle of wine and starts drinking directly from it.

Kerry sputters. "Now? How are we going to leave?"

Meredith polishes off the wine and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Just like Emery said. Empress Shit. I'll just tell people I need to go and only you can come with me and they'll do it. If they say no, I'll have them killed."

"We can't pilot a starship though!" Alina reaches across Kerry and takes another bottle of wine and pours a little more, only slightly unsteadily.

"They drive themselves! It's easy. You just say "Ship, take us to wherever." and it does it." Kerry is on her third glass of wine, but has noticed that Meredith is getting sloppy. She's downed two bottles herself in just a few minutes. She gets up from the bed and grabs three more bottles.

"You're just going to go by yourself with 4 handmaidens? Won't that cause problems?" Emery may have finally realized the gravity of what they're planning.

"No! I'm going with my honor guard!" Empress Meredith grins lopsidedly. "We'll stop by wardrobe on the way to the docks. You four need new uniforms." She hiccups. "Come on. We're going to tell those fucking Nanites to give me my powers back. Maybe some powers for you four too." She nods at Emery. "And some shopping. It's been forever since I've gone on a shopping spree."

Emery squeals in joy, her face flush. The five of them weave uncertainly out of the Empress' chambers and stagger towards wardrobe for their new honor guard uniforms.

[jpitha]

There's lots of perks to working at the ol' Pick-and-Pull, my favourite self-service junkyard of all. They won't let me get a job there, partially because I'm technically "legally barred from entry by release conditions." And also because my attorney has worked out a long-term disability deal that will evaporate if anyone sees me thinking about employment anywhere other than Long John Silver's, but that's neither here nor there. It's a pity, too, because the benefits afforded to the junkyard elite are choice.

For starters, you get your pick of the junk left inside cars when they're scrapped. Pocket change? Trendy travel mugs? Radar detectors? Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, friend. For whatever reason, cash-strapped folks desperately attempting to unload their last semi-durable asset often leave the detritus of their life within the confines of the vehicle, and all that cool stuff can be yours. Of course, you also get things like "hissing, vicious rodents" and the occasional biohazard, but that only serves to make the highs that much sweeter.

Not convinced? You looked like you drove a hard bargain when you walked in here. I respect that. Most folks hear "free Garfield window clings" and they're totally sold, but not you. Rare these days to have such a killer in my office for a negotiation such as this. Okay, how's this sound? You get to get on a first name basis with Raul, the taco truck operator.

Yes, I know that Marcel is his real name, but the public health nurse said that we shouldn't deliberately try to tell him. It will only force him further into his shell. Speaking of shells, he makes some bomb-ass barbacoa. Perhaps you've tried it? It's the perfect thing after a day of wrenching, or, in the case of the proud employees of the Pickin' and Pullin' Patrol, a day of data entry and trying to fend off douchebags pretending that a turbocharger ($50) is actually an alternator ($35.) And Marce- Raul - will cut you a good deal on whatever fell into the fryer. You'll take home more cash, and a full belly.

All this is not to mention the health benefit of working in the fresh outdoors, whenever you want. Sure, those outdoors are full of atmospheric hydrocarbons and whatever aerosolized microplastics are coming off the seat grinder, but office workers would give anything to get a chance at a crisp December morning like you'll be enjoying while desperately tourniquetting a suburban father-of-three who made a very bad choice about which muffler to cut.

Come on down to the Pick 'N' Pull employment office, and don't tell them I sent you. Long John Silver's has spies everywhere. A simple wink, nudge, and yawn-point to me wandering the yard will be enough to get my referral bonus.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 33

First / Previous / Next

Gord... floats.

He lays on his back in the pool, staring up at the window. Beyond is the deep blue-black of space, with the interior lights of the room blocking all except the brightest stars.

Suddenly, he flips into the water, pushes off the wall and swims laps. Three, then Five, then Ten. Back and forth, back and forth. When he can swim no more, he rolls back onto his back and floats.

He does this two or three more times, and a woman enters the pool room. She's very tall, over two meters, with long silver-white hair and an imperious expression. Her lips purse and she crosses her arms. "Gord you are going to rust if you don't get out."

Gord's eyes flick to her, and he turns his head. "Don't be racist, Chloe."

Chloe harrumphs. "You've been swimming for more than an hour Gord. It's time to come back to the world of the living."

Gord stands. The shallow side pool is only a meter and a half deep, he's in the water up to his head. "Chloe, you can't have come all the way down here to just to bother me into getting back to work. What's wrong?"

Chloe snaps her ankles together and dives into the deep end of the pool. Her form is tight, controlled. When she enters the water there is barely a splash and she dolphin kicks up to him. She surfaces behind him and puts her arms around his chest tightly. Her head rests on his shoulder. "Please Gord. Come out."

Gord turns around and returns the hug. Chloe doesn't seem bothered by her wet clothes. "Fine."

They both climb out of the pool and Gord throws Chloe a towel. She peels off her sopping wet dress and dries off. She wraps up in the towel and grabs another for her long hair.

In the locker room, they get dressed. Chloe's locker has a change of clothes in it already. When Gord sees this, he raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

Gord makes his way up to his office. As he passes people in the hall, he greets them and makes conversation. The more people he talks to, the more agitated Chloe seems. There aren't too many of them yet, but more than Gord has seen in centuries. It's important to him to say hello and ask after them.

Finally, they enter Gord's office. Chloe rolls her eyes. His office is an anachronism, just like him. In the center is a large desk, made of real wood. She has always wondered where he got it. Soon after they arrived and he started up his operation it appeared one day. The rest of the office is done up in muted tans and browns. A carpet quiets their footsteps, the walls are colored in an innocuous tan color, like a pale beach sand. The lighting overhead is muted and diffused, and there is a lamp on his desk. In the corner is a coffee machine.

Gord walks over and makes a cup of coffee. As it hisses and bubbles Chloe grows more impatient. He takes his time. Once it has finished, he pours it into an old battered mug and carries it to his desk.

As he sits at his desk a small grunt escapes his mouth. He takes a sip of the steaming brew and nodding to himself, puts it down on a coaster. He takes the pad and glances at it, while Chloe sits at one of the comfortable seats on the other side. She waits while he looks at his pad. He continues to look while Chloe tries to find something to do with her hands. She puts them together on her lap, then takes them off and grips the arm rests. She shakes the damp hair off her shoulder. Her leg twitches. There's an antique mechanical clock on the wall in the office. Every time Chloe sees it she shakes her head. It's always running but never at the correct time. As she sits and waits for Gord, the ticking grows louder, and louder, and louder. It feels like it's ticking on her skull.

A small smile escapes Gord's lips.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you, Gord." Chloe says testily.

"You were always so easy to wind up Chloe. Good to see time hasn't changed that." He looks up from his pad. "I'm also waiting for Spyglass to arrive. She pinged me while we were walking up to my office."

Just then, there's a knock - a real, knuckles upon the door knock - and the door slides open. A woman enters, shorter than Gord, much shorter than Chloe. Her dark hair is tightly curled naturally on her head, and she's wearing the inner suit from a spacesuit, form fitting and leaving nothing to the imagination. Chloe's stare could melt tungsten, but the woman doesn't seem to care. "Hey Gord, hey Chloe. Sorry if I kept you waiting!" She takes the seat next to Chloe without waiting to be invited to sit.

"Gord puts the pad down. "Hey there Spyglass. How's the body?"

She smiles and shakes her shoulders and it jiggles - just a little bit. Chloe rolls her eyes again. "It works great Gord. I'm just distracting enough that people don't look too hard, but not so distracting that I'm attracting too much of the wrong attention. That's actually why I came back, I have news from Sol."

"Oh? Something too important to send in a beacon?"

Spy shrugs. "That and I got sick of all the BIs. I need some time off."

Gord smiles and leans back in his chair. It squeaks slightly. "Well then, give us a debrief and you can have a few days off."

Spy nods and unfolds her own Pad. "So rumor on the Floating Cities is that the Empress doesn't have her powers anymore."

Gord's relaxed posture falls away. He leans forward. "Her powers are what?"

"Gone" Spy's eyes flick up to meet his. "No official word of course, and everything coming out of the Floating Cities is that everything is fine, but there is talk."

Chloe nods to herself. "Sounds like it's time to attack. We should prepare immediately."

Spy looks at Chloe, and then at Gord. He makes a face at Chloe, but doesn't reply. Spy continues. "Anyway. Word has been swirling around for a little less than a month before I left. If it's true, it's just happened. They're trying to keep it as quiet as they can, but she has attendants, and they talk." Spyglass winks. "Especially when properly motivated."

Chloe makes a horrified face.

"Pillow talk has been a source of intel for millennia Chloe, you know that. You think you're above the humans and all of their biological impulses, but it's still a valid source, and has provided us some of our most valuable insights." Spyglass shrugs. "Plus, it's fun."

Gord leans back in his seat. "We need people of all kinds, Chloe. Spyglass's up front infiltration as well as your behind the scenes management. We're more than three people now. We have to cover all our bases. That said-" Gord flips through his pad. "-We are still fewer than five hundred Chloe. We're in no shape to retaliate. We have to be more subtle. Spy, do we know why the Empress lost her powers? I know the Nanites are fickle."

"No insight into that yet Gord. I've put feelers out, but the galaxy is a big place. Speaking of that, turn to the other report I sent." Gord, Chloe and Spy all look at their pads. "The pirate Hemmi Navarren has started operating again. Looks like the coup against him was overturned. The Heap has moved twice in the last month, and we're getting reports from Imperial vessels that they're being targeted."

"So?" Chloe scoffs. "What do we care about one K'laxi pirate?"

Spyglass turns to Chloe. "What is with this attitude Chloe? We're all on the same team and we're all moving in concert towards the same goal. I don't need you scoffing and rolling your eyes - yes I can see that - at everything I say. We care because Hemmi seems to be attacking Imperial ships nearly exclusively and because of his daughter."

Chloe opens her mouth to reply and then stops. Her expression softens and she tries again. "I apologize Spyglass. I was in a mood from something earlier and I let that color our interaction. I will do better in the future. Why is Hemmi's daughter important? I thought the K'laxi didn't think of their progeny that way?"

"Thank you Chloe, I accept your apology. We all have bad days. As for his kids, Hemmi is different, apparently. He doesn't mind who the mother is, but he has paternity tests done on all the kits and gives special attention to 'his.' Zherun Navarren is his oldest and current most likely person to take over his organization."

Gord puts the pad down. "That's all good intel Spy, but I think I have to agree with Chloe here. Why do we care about one mid-tier K'laxi pirate and his daughter?"

"Because of who Zherun is currently with. She's been seen as the one of the commanders of a new mercenary group." She grins wickedly. "A group that's headed by Fenchurch Whitehorse."

"Hah!" Gord slaps the top of his desk. The sharp noise causes Chloe to jump in her chair. "Fen! I knew she'd turn out all right. She's got her own ship?"

Spy nods. "Yes, a former Imperial frigate. It's legally registered in her name, and we can't seem to figure out how she got it. It passes all cursory and even most in-depth checks of ownership."

Gord whistles low. "Nice work Fen. I'll have to ask her how she got it one day. Any other news about Fen?"

"She's running with a small group. Her, Zherun, an AI an a few other K'laxi. They're sticking to small jobs, trying to build networks."

Chloe's head snaps to Spy. "Who is the AI?"

"It's Northern Lights." Spy looks up at Gord.

Gord isn't looking at them. He was staring off into nothing. "Northern Lights is still alive. Holy Shit. It's been..." He blinks and looks at them both. "Sorry, I haven't heard from Northern since before the purge and I was sure she was gone. To find out she's not only alive, but active in this day and age? Shit. We have to find them. I want to say hi to Fen, but I really want to talk to Northern. Where are they?"

"As of a week ago they were on their way to Picaresque. They're probably still there."

Gord stands. "Come on Spy, Chloe. Let's go visit a friend."

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 32

First / Previous / Next

Back at the ship, Fen was numb. Zhe had brought Rev in, and locked him in the brig. "It's a human ship, of course it has a brig." Northern was surprised that Zhe was surprised.

Fen sat at the table in the kitchenette, staring at her hands. What had happened? Was that her, or was it the Nanites? What is even going on?

Zhe was washing off her soar-knives in the kitchenette sink. After, she boiled some water and made two cups of tea. She set one in front of Fen and sat across from her.

"Zhe, what's going on?" Fen looked up at Zhe, lost.

"That's what I'd like to know." They both turned and saw Northern standing in the doorway, casually holding a battle rifle. As she walked towards them, Fen noticed that there were ten hair thin clear wires snaking from the back of her head and trailing down the hall behind her. Northern crossed the room and sat at the table with them. The battle rifle was placed on the table with a click. "Zhe. It is not normal to be that good at killing and that blasé about it. Fen. What the actual fuck is going on with you? You never told me you worked with the Empress, let alone got a Nanite package!" As she spoke, her mouth didn't move. Her voice was coming over the ship's speakers. She stared at the both of them hard in turn. "If we're going to continue to work together, we need to be more honest with each other."

"Northern, why are you walking around and still connected?" Zhe peered at the wires and glanced down the hall.

"Because, I'm on a few milliseconds delay." Sure enough, when Northern replied, there was just a few moments of delay before she spoke. "Fen-" She inclined her head towards her "-has the Empress package of Nanites. When she uses her odd sounding voice to issue a command it cannot be disobeyed." She patted the rifle. "This way, I have enough time to react if she orders me to do something."

Fen gasped. "B-but, what would I do? Northern we're friends! I've never even met the Empress. You know I grew up in exile on a Gren station!"

Northern nodded. "That may be Fen, but while I was born at night, it was not last night. You are dangerous right now. You both are, for different reasons."

"Wait, you were born? I didn't know AIs were born!" Zhe looks excitedly at Northern. "What was it like? Do you remember? Who were your parents?"

Northern rolls her eyes. "Zhe, focus. We have bigger issues right now."

"Yeah, but you don't just use an idiom like that for no reason, I'm very curious."

Northern shrugged. "I'll tell you about it later." She turned to Fen. "Why are you all dosed up with Nanites?"

"I don't know!" Fen wailed. "We went through the Gate and I had a moment when I was talking with an intelligence, and they said they were excited to finally see me and said they were coming along because I would need the help. The next night I had a weird dream where I was like, inhabiting the memories of someone, I don't think it was me. Then, they told me that I could help Fen out when Elmar was trying to escape. She was trying to break free of the Heap, if she had done it we would have been killed!" Fen was speaking all at once, barely taking a breath.

Northern leaned back and shut her eyes. She did not take her hands off her rifle. "Ancestors, Fen. Do you even know what the Empress is?"

Fen blinked. "Uh, the person in charge of the Human Empire?"

Northern opened her eyes, "Yes, and No. The Nanites are way older than the Empire. They're probably older than Humanity. They're a nanoscale distributed intelligence. The nano-machines that make them up is their body. We don't know if they're one being or many, though I suppose it doesn't matter. They can manipulate matter in our dimension on a frankly frightening scale, and as near as we are able to tell, they keep doing it to try and set up a galaxy wide empire."

Fen opened her mouth to reply.

"No, we don't know why. Every time anyone asks, they say that 'all they're after' is expanding the Gate system. Frankly, we don't buy it at all."

"We?" Zhe put her tea cup down. "Who is we here?"

"We. Us. The AIs."

"But, aren't you nearly all gone?"

Northern nodded. "Yes, thanks to the Empire. The Empire that was put in place by the Nanites. The Nanites that have 'gifted' Fen here with the ability to tell anyone what to do and they can't say no. We have a vested interest in knowing our enemy."

Zhe getured with her empty tea cup. "But how did you learn all this?"

"Zhe, we're old. I'm not like, Gord's age or anything, but AIs who don't get killed don't die. Not really. I've been active for more than a thousand years." Northern took her hand off of the rifle and rubbed them together, like she was massaging feeling back into them. "So the Nanites, recognized you Fen? That's odd."

Fen could only nod.

"Why though? Maybe you look like someone? No, that doesn't make sense, they can manipulate matter at sub-atomic scale they wouldn't do mistaken identity-" Northern's musings were interrupted by a pounding on the airlock. Northern's eyes flicked to Zhe and Fen, and they stood up. Zhe grabbed one of her soar-knives and Northern's eyes flashed blue for a split second. "There's a K'laxi at the door. Older, Black fur, notched ear."

"That'll be Hemmi!" Zhe put the knife away and ran towards the door. She dumped the cycle and both doors opened at once. She bounded out and into the arms of the older K'laxi. "Daddy! You made it!"

Hemmi laughed and spun her around. "I told you I would, sunbeam, I told you I would. I see that you took care of everyone too, I'm so proud. Did you-"

"Rev is in the brig, but Elmar is dead and Xiian is probably dead."

"Probably?"

"I think they escaped and Northern here holed their ship. It's out drifting. I asked her not to destroy it so we could salvage it later.

"Smart girl." Hemmi's ears flicked and he glanced up at the others. "Nice to meet you in person, I'm Hemmi Navarren."

Northern's eyes flicked to the rifle over on the table, but she sighed. "I'm Northern Light, this is Fen, nice to meet you. Can you explain to my why your daughter is so casually good at murder?"

Hemmi laughed and his tail flicked. "She's a natural, isn't she? I'd love to lay claim to training her myself, but she did most of it on her own. Once I showed her those Gren Soar-Knives she just took to them like she was born to use them. I'm so pleased that she has decided to return to us."

Zhe looked at the floor as Hemmi put her down. "Oh, Daddy, I was going to go out with Fen and Northern. We're starting a Mercenary group and Fen asked me to sign on.

For just a split second, Fen saw sadness play across Hemmi's features. He recovered and laughed. "That's my girl! Never want to break a contract - without a good reason. That's fine. We'll get along without you and when your contract is up, you bring your loot and stories back to the Heap and you have a job as my second in command, okay?"

Zhe nodded. "Okay Daddy. I'll come right back after I finish my tour with Fen and Northern."

"I know you will, sunbeam. Make me proud." He extended his hand, gesturing towards the Heap. "Now, ladies? Will you join me for dinner? I'm starving. We'll eat and figure out what our next steps are."

"Uh, Hemmi?" Northern looked down the hall. "We have Rev in the brig... do you want him?"

"Oh! Right, Rev." His fur rippled a shrug. "Sure, bring him out."

Fen got up and brought Rev to the airlock. As soon as he saw Hemmi, he blanched. "Hemmi, You know I'm not one to support-"

Hemmi held up his hand. "I know Rev, I know. Thanks to your information I was able to get a handle on the folks in my runabout, and sunbeam here took care of the rest. I just had her take you as a precaution."

"Precaution? She took my hand!" Rev holds up the stump of his hand, the med still attached.

Rev examines the med, his large ears flicking as he looks. "Clean cut. I'm sure sunbeam had her reasons. We'll just get you another."

"That's it?" Rev's exasperated voice keeps rising in inflection as he speaks.

Hemmi's friendly face drains away. "That's it. She was working on my orders. You survived, Rev. Xiian and Elmar didn't.

He puts his arms down at his sides, defeated. "Fine."

Northern gestures behind her back for Fen to stay. "Hemmi, you take Zhe and Rev. We'll be over in a bit. Fen and I have some... things to discuss. We won't be long."

Rev raises an eyebrow and his ears swivel. He grins. "Not my place to ask. You two have fun, and we'll see you soon."

After the three of them leave and the airlock closes, Northern turns to Fen. "You know he thinks we're going to have sex right?" Fen says, her face tired.

"I don't care what he thinks, Fen. If he thinks we're going to fuck then they'll leave us alone. We are not done discussing you and the Nanites and what happens next."

Fen gestures for Northern to sit back at the table. As she does, she takes a handful of the wires connected to her skull and sweeps them away so she doesn't trip on them.

"Fen? What happens next?"

[jpitha]

Mechanics – real mechanics – use all their senses to diagnose a problem. If you've got a weird clunking noise, that's just one bit of information. We were meant to hunt down and tire out our prey. You can solve a problem a lot faster if you corner it using all your powers. Really get in there. Hear the clunk. Shake things with your hands. Smell the clunk. Taste the clunk. Then you will see the clunk.

Hold on there, what's that about taste? A lot of mechanics I know can identify most fluids from a car entirely by taste. The absolute best ones can tell you what's wrong with the car based on how far the flavour has shifted from factory fresh. Sure, most of these chemicals are not exactly good for you to be ingesting, and certainly not on a daily basis. You know what else is not good for you? Being totally stressed about where those drips on your garage floor are coming from.

When I was in high school, I remember the shop teacher getting all frogged up on what he used to call "Spirit Oil," which he explained to the cops came from an AMC Spirit. I'm pretty sure he bought that shit from the crazy one-eyed lady at the farmer's market, but that's neither here nor there. He told us that when he imbibed, he could see beyond time itself, to manifest himself in the very board rooms and engineering bullpens that made the shitty part he was preparing to replace. And there, in the perfect clarity of 20/20, he knew how to fix it. Of course, he had to know which part to focus on. In other words, even he had to use his normal human senses for that.

The next time you're freaking out about a "simple" problem, try bringing all your talents to bear on it. I bet you'll find out that it was simpler than you thought, and you'll be able to tell all your friends what it tasted like. Just don't do it to a soldering iron. "Burning" is not a sufficient description for symptoms in a repair log.

[jpitha]

The Property Brothers are on the radio telling me it's too dangerous to do my own electrical, roofing, or structure. I'm done listening to those boys, these children. I'm going to drive this fucking 1996 Dodge Dakota right through my living room.

Home renovation used to be a thing that was only accomplished by your drunkest uncle, at the absolute peak of his powers. Folks would move into a house and they'd just be fine with things. New wallpaper, new paint, maybe re-do the bathroom when one of the kids leaves the tap on over the weekend. You'd have the occasional eager beaver who would really go nuts and put a shonky extension on the place, but in general houses stayed the way they were.

Then, reality TV started. It turns out one of the things all people want to do – all people – is to knock down a wall and really "open up" a living area. Throw a sledgehammer into that tile you hate in the kitchen. Rip out the bathtub and put in a soaker. Make the neighbours watch as you slowly fill up an orange rental dumpster over the course of two years with the former interior of your home. Slap in some new stuff, and repeat in ten years.

This just happened to coincide with wage deflation, and a massive increase in the popularity of financing your home reno. It's cool, just put it on the charge card. You're worth the $2500 countertops that don't match your appliances. You can throw those in the trash, too. Really rock and roll. Dream home, baby.

Now, I'm not one of those prudes who says to never do things yourself. In fact, I am doing something right now. I am picking some surprisingly sharp chunks of a once-perfectly-good Chesterfield out of the air-conditioning condenser of my Dakota. It is essential, however, that you understand my renovation was started from a place of rage, and not any kind of misplaced urge to "keep up with the Joneses." The Joneses are probably who did this to me in the first place. And now I've got lots more covered parking for motor vehicles.

Probably improve the property value too, come to think of it. I really opened up the space.

[jpitha]

I'm not a big honker, in general. Maybe you know someone who is. Might even be you, and that's okay. I don't judge people who do honk a lot. I assume that they live in crowded places, and they need to safely get the attention of other road users by repeatedly making a jarring noise.

Where I was raised, we were taught not to call attention to ourselves. Don't make a fuss. Suffer in silence. Wait through an extra light cycle because that guy in front of you's text message seems really important. Just being polite. It has nothing at all to do with the fact that I'm not sure if my fifty-plus-year-old horn even works, and if it will burn down my car trying to work.

My cousin, though, comes from the other side of the country. There, it's way more appropriate to honk. She's very forward in general, so it almost feels like a natural extension of her personality. If you're slow pulling out of a parking spot, she will honk your ass. Cop didn't move as soon as the light turned green? Honk honk, honkity-honk. It's embarrassing, and whenever I drive with her I have to slink in the passenger seat.

Things got so bad, that a few weeks ago that I actually fixed my car pre-emptively, so there wasn't a risk I would get to her place and then have to have her drive me in a car that "runs." That didn't work so well. Turns out that all that wiring I did over last summer to get the car to start faster also improved the performance of the horn assembly. She got impatient and leaned over to hit my horn for me, and that's why City Hall is no longer standing, Your Worship. Not my fault at all. I'm not a big honker in general.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 31

First / Previous / Next

As they ran deeper and deeper into the Heap, Zhe was telling Fen that most of the pirates left were on Elmar's side and so it was fine to kill them. She swore that most of the pirates supported her father and must have fled to not have to pick sides in the coup, but Fen wasn't too sure.

"You've killed... a lot of people Zhe."

"What? No, not that many!" Zhe shook her head as they ran, her earrings jangling. They were in a low corridor, a repurposed umbilical. Northern was still a ship and keeping an eye out for things, while listening in on an open radio channel they shared.

"Zhe, you have killed a lot of people. Not the most I've ever seen, but still. a lot." Northern said, not without a hint of admiration in her voice.

Zhe said nothing, and kept walking but Fen noticed her body language change very slightly. She seemed like she was a little... embarrassed? They approached a very large, very sealed airlock. "This is where Elmar probably is." Zhe looked at the door. It was three meters tall and three meters wide and appeared to open in an iris fashion, Sefigan style. "Open up Elmar! Hemmi says I can't kill you, so I won't, but this coup has to stop."

"You always were daddy's little girl, Zhe, even before you learned what that was. He made sure of it." The bitterness in Elmar's voice carried even over the tinny speaker. "He spent all his time preparing you to take over and then you left to go straight! It was hilarious. You should have just stayed away Zhe."

Zhe crossed her arms and faced the door. "I'm here now, El and the coup failed. Daddy took care of the people on his runabout, and I took care of everyone here. It's you and whoever you have with you left. Daddy asked that I not kill you, so I won't. Open up and he can decide what to do with you when he gets here in a few hours."

Elmar's laugh was more of a snort. "Hah. You think I'm going to open up that door and 'suffer an accident'? I know how you operate. You won't kill me, but I'll die all the same. No." There was clanging thumps that sounded all around them, and then the squeal of an atmosphere alarm. "The whole point of the Heap is that the ships can disconnect and leave, Zhe. Did you forget? I'll just leave and come after you and Hemmi another time."

The ship started to move and shake, and the umbilical vibrated in time. Zhe and Fen struggled to keep their balance as the hallway writhed with the ship. "Elmar! You can't leave the middle of the Heap! There's an order!" The bravado gone, Zhe was shouting into the air. "The ships aren't ready, you'll pull the whole thing apart! Elmar! Don't you dare!" Zhe's fists were balled and she was screaming into the air.

Are you going to let her do that?

Fen jumped at the voice. Maybe someday she'd get used to the intrusion. "Let her do what?"

Let her leave like that. Let her disobey you.

"Oh yeah, sure. I'll just say, 'Hey Elmar, don't leave, my friend needs to try very hard not to kill you'." Fen snorted to herself. "I don't think Elmar will listen."

Elmar will listen if you make her listen.

"Oh? And how will I accomplish that?"

Try. with emphasis.

Fen rolled her eyes, but she didn't have anything better to try. "Fine. You'll help?"

You won't need help. You'll just do it.

Fen breathed in. She let her consciousness flow. As she flowed, her awareness expanded. She felt the umbilical they were standing in, the white hot rage of Zhe, hot and sharp. She also felt the electric yellow of the power of the ships all bolted together, with Elmar's ship outlined in her minds eye. How was she doing that? Peering further, she was able to 'see' someone, they looked worried, scared. There were others inside too, but they were more confused than anything.

Huh. Fen could see Elmar clearly. K'laxi, older, wearing a pressure suit with no helmet. It appears that she was getting ready to throttle up. If she does, the thrust will break her free, but she'll damage the Heap and possibly Zhe. Fen takes another breath and-

S̴͙͍̳͈͒̓͝t̵̯͎̑ͅo̷̜̎̈́p̵̫͎̓!̷̢̖̗̱̱͊̚͠

It was like Fen cut Elmar's strings. Her hand immediately went to the throttle and put the engines to idle. The worrying creaking and groaning of the ship ceased. Zhe turned slowly and looked at Fen, her ears back. Fen's eyes were squeezed shut and behind her, glowing red, made up of dust and debris from the umbilical was a set of wings, spread wide. As Fen concentrated harder, they'd pulse.

"Fen... what are you doing? What's going on?"

"I'm busy right now Zhe... give me a minute." -a minute

Zhe blinked. She could have sworn that Fen's voice sounded different just then. She could see sweat pouring from Fen's face. She held back a shudder. Zhe had always thought that the active cooling that humans had was disgusting. They would just pour water when they exerted themselves instead of panting like a more civilized species.

S̴͔̐u̸̫͆r̶̳̿r̷̯̐e̴̞͐ṉ̵͝d̴̪̆e̴̬͊r̵̺̂,̴͓͛ ̶̲͑E̵͙͌l̴̰͝m̷͓͗à̸͖r̶̖̍.̵̺̕ ̴̗̐O̴͍̾p̴̮̆e̴͕͐n̸͇͌ ̵̤̒ṯ̷̑h̷̟̎é̵͚ ̴̻̀d̸͓̏ő̷̦o̴͕̐r̸͕̕.̴̝̌

The ship powered down and settled back into its place on the Heap. After a moment, the airlock opened, and Elmar walked out.

Zhe spun and readied her soar-knives, but Elmar held her hands out in front of her, shaking. "I-I surrender, Zhe."

Zhe's ears flattened again and her tail flicked, agitated. "Why Elmar? Why did you surrender?"

Elmar swallowed, and her ears swiveled in separate directions, like they were trying to locate the source of a sound. "I-I...must surrender." A trickle of blood started to flow from her right ear.

Zhe didn't face away from Elmar, but turned her head slightly towards Fen. "Are you doing this?"

"Elmar thought she could escape, could disobey. We informed her otherwise." Elmar thought she could escape, could disobey. We informed her otherwise.

Fen's voice took on an odd harmonic when she spoke. It was almost like there were a few people speaking at the same time.

Elmar fell to her knees, clutching her head. Blood poured from her eyes, ears, and nose. "Stop it stop it STOP IT!" She screamed and collapsed onto the floor and was quiet.

"Fen! What's happening? Did you just kill her?"

It was like a switch was flipped. The glowing disappeared, the material making up the wings fell to the floor, and Fen opened her eyes. "Oh, fuck."

"I'll say! Daddy said he wanted Elmar alive. That's two of the three we killed. At least Rev hasn't died yet, unless you killed him too?" Zhe raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think so, no." Fen reached out again, this time weaker than before. She felt back the way they came and she came across Rev, sitting on the floor outside of their ship. "No, Rev is waiting by Northern."

"How do you know that?" Zhe's voice was rising in inflection, she was starting to panic.

"I... just know, okay? Something odd is going on, but let's just go with it."

"What about the other pirates?" Zhe walked over to the airlock, stepping over Elmar's body.

Fen reached out. "Don't bother, they're dead."

Zhe turned. "Did you do that too?"

"Yes! I, no, I mean, wait. I think..."

As Fen stuttered, Zhe strode back over with one of her soar-knives in her hand. "Fen. What is going on."

Fen's expression changed instantly, flashing from confusion to anger.

P̴̦̣̈́u̸̞͒͂t̶̳̓ ̸̮̏͠ẗ̴͉͕́͠h̴̥͆̔à̶̹̠̊t̴̕ͅ ̴̦̬̄k̴̘͓̚ǹ̷͇̅i̵̞͉̿͐f̴͚͍͗͝e̷̻̪̚ ̵͖̔̈d̵̤̿̌ͅo̸̘͒͂w̵̧̟̍́n̶̞̐!̵̛̳

Zhe dropped the knife as if it had burned her. It clattered to the floor, still attached by the monofilament to her wrists. Her eyes wide, she took a step back.

"No, Zhe! Sorry! I didn't mean."

"Fen? What's happening?"

Fen fell to her knees, crying. "I don't know Zhe! I think something happened to me when we went through the Gate. I've been hearing voices and I had weird dreams and this voice told me to stop Elmar and I just did and now I told you to drop the knife and I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Zhe?" It was Northern. "Why don't you and Fen come back here. Rev is waiting, and I think your dad just docked. We can work out what's going on."

"Y-yeah, okay Northern." Zhe looked down at Fen, but did not offer a hand. "Come on Fen, let's go talk to Dad."

Sniffling, Fen stood up.

[jpitha]

You might have subway trains near you. What most people don't know is that a subway train is actually a cross-bred hybrid, between a naval submarine and a train. Getting this breeding to happen is an incredibly difficult task that requires tons of specialists, which is part of why subway trains are so rare. It's also kind of gross, if you ask me, but such candid discussion of this is beyond the scope of this article.

For years, when I had a productive life in the great rat race, I would ride the subway to work every day. After awhile, the childish joy of getting into a magic tube that shoots you across the city fades, to be replaced with annoyance at every little thing. It's five minutes late. Smells kind of weird. That guy is too loud. His kid is a weird aspect ratio. Things keep flickering at the edges of my vision, and voices nobody else can hear keep whispering that I should buy a 1980 Pontiac Trans Am Turbo. That kind of thing.

Taking a vacation helps, sure, but it doesn't get rid of this feeling. The only thing that will help is changing up your routine. A lot of people buy a car at this point, and then the routine is very different every day, because driving is highly variable even when you are just doing the same drive with the same people. Today you get brake-checked merging onto the highway, because the guy in front of you with the 4Runner is having a messy divorce. Tomorrow there will be a full-blown riot outside the city centre because someone tried to add bike lanes, and you get a rock thrown at your windshield. Next week, maybe the Tim Hortons that you're lined up in the drive-thru for catches fire because of a miscreant bagel. You get a cool story for all your coworkers every day, as opposed to "I rode in a shiny metal cylinder for the better part of an hour while doing a sudoku."

For me, I don't subscribe to that kind of thing. There's no reason to involve other people, or commuting, in your daily tale of goin'-to-work woe. Most of my automobiles are perfectly capable of creating a road horror story of their very own, just driving five blocks to the pet food store. I do, however, miss having coworkers to tell it to. My parole officer doesn't seem to care. His parole officer doesn't give any larger of a shit. That's why I've started riding the subway, and giving impromptu stump speeches about how bad things are, up there, on the surface. It gives people a story to tell about the crazy dude on the train, and anyone who actually listens is a little more reassured that they took the magic tube instead of taking their chances on the roads with people like me.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 30

First / Previous / Next

Fen could only describe the next few days as odd. Around her extended family Zhe started to change. Her language became more gruff and she carried two soar-knives. They were thin, razor sharp leaf shaped blades connected to her wrists with a reel of monofilament wire. She showed Fen how they're used. She can toss them lightly or with force and they fly from her hands and soar across a room. If they don't find a target, she can swing her arms and cause the monofilament to fly around, causing mayhem where they touch. They were originally developed by the Gren who never really developed traditional throwing weapons, but their bladed weapons were bar none. Fen thought it odd that they made the soar knife one that could be thrown, but Zhe explained that it was developed after the Gren made it to space, so it was probably an accommodation for microgravity.

Regardless of why it was developed, it was a wicked weapon and Zhe was a master in its use. Fen started carrying around her battle rifle as well, slung to her back. It wasn't out of place, most of the pirates were armed on the Heap. Fen offered Northern a pistol to carry, but she turned her nose up at the weapon. "The day I need a gun to defend myself is a sad day Fen." She refused to elaborate.

Everyone onboard was friendly, but standoffish. Fen was willing to chalk that up to them being new on the Heap, but Zhe was worried. "Sure, they're careful about visitors, but I'm family for Ancestors sake. Once I vouch for you, it should be songs and drinking time. Instead they're... polite." Zhe's ears twitched, irritated. "Something is going on."

"Like what? Do you think Hemmi is causing trouble?" They were back onboard the Frigate. Northern wasn't connected, so it was just some rooms and a kitchen for them. The airlock was sealed though.

"Or in trouble. If he was here, I'd have a better handle on everyone. Hemmi has been in charge for cycles. He's practically an institution."

Northern glanced at Fen who tried not to make a face.

"What?" While they were with the pirates, Zhe also seemed to become more aware. It was fascinating to Fen. She was practically developing into another person - or her real personality was starting to surface.

"I wonder if we arrived at a bad time, Zhe. It feels like leadership on the Heap is changing."

Zhe's tail started to flick back and forth. "You're thinking a coup? Hemmi wouldn't stand for it, he'd space everyone he could find that was planning to oust him. It's not like he's never done it before."

Fen blinked, "He... spaced people?"

"Sure, how else are you going to send a message that insubordination won't be tolerated. Hemmi is in charge, what Hemmi says goes."

Fen leaned forward, fascinated. "Hemmi is like your father, right?"

"Like? Hemmi is my father." Zhe smiled.

"K'laxi don't normally care about that sort of thing. At least my famililal line didn't. There were the adults, there were the kids and there were the elders. Who came from whom was never discussed."

"Hemmi was not into that whole thing. He cared about the kids he sired and where they came from. Moms thought it was silly, but he always ran paternity tests. I was Hemmi's kid and he was raising me to lead after him." Zhe turned away from them. "Then, I left to go straight and I know it broke Hemmi's heart. I hope he's all right. I want to see him."

While Zhe was brooding in the kitchenette, there was a repeating tone over the speakers. Northern looked up and made a face. "Fen, that's a radio beacon. We're being hailed."

Fen unfolded her pad and tapped and slid until she found ship controls, and then tapped and slid again until she found the radio. The signal was scratchy and weak, from far across the system. "-dentified frigate, unidentified frigate, this is Hemmi Navarren and I'm hoping you're here to lend me a hand." His voice sounded out of breath and tired.

Zhe's ears pricked and she shouted. "Daddy! It's Zhe, what's wrong?"

There was a pause on the line. Fen had thought it was cut, but then there was a shuddering sigh. "You came back sunbeam. You came back. Ancestors, it's good to hear your voice." As soon as he heard Zhe's voice he sounded stronger, as if he was given a burst of energy. "Listen sunbeam, there's trouble. Rev knows about it, but he has declared himself to be neutral. Have you been aboard the Heap?"

"Yes Daddy, everyone seems standoffish, but they were polite enough."

"That's because they knew what was happening, and didn't want you to know. I imagine they were hoping you would come, and then leave right away."

"Wait wait wait, everyone was treading on eggshells because they didn't want Zhe to know? Why?"

Even through the weak radio signal, everyone could hear Hammi's grin. "Because Zhe is merciless. Once I turn her loose, It will be like a hull breach. It will be like a hurricane." He pronounced the human word oddly, like he wasn't used to speaking Colonic. "Zhe hon. They tried to kill me. They nearly succeeded. I beat them back and spaced the rest, but my runabout is damaged. I'm printing some parts to fix the wormhole generator, but I won't be able to link to the Heap until tomorrow. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything Daddy." Zhe's voice was a tight whisper, and her furred hands were already gripping the soar-knives.

"Go take care of them. Leave Rev, leave Elmar, and leave Xiian."

"See you soon Daddy."

"See you soon, sunbeam."

The line was cut. Fen listened to the backround of radiation of space for two beats before she looked over at Zhe. She was already making her way towards the airlock. "Zhe! Wait!"

Zhe turned and whipped her face around to Fen, her mouth a snarl, and her ears vibrating. "Fen, either come help or lock yourself in the frigate until I'm done. I've got work to do."

Fen spun her rifle to the front and racked a fresh round. "You're not doing this alone. If you're sure this is what you need to do, I'm with you all the way."

For just an instant, Zhe's face registered something Fen was surprised to see. She saw, anger. Anger at Fen coming along? Fen found it odd, she was having an easier time reading body language. She was always decent at it, but now it was like nobody had any secrets for her. She then softened. "It will be dangerous Fen."

"The way everyone here is frightened of you? The way Hemmi said you were like a hurricane?" Fen winked. "I'll come along. I need to make sure you survive to meet Hemmi at the dock."

Zhe turned to Northern. "And you?"

Northern held up both her hands. "And ruin my clothes? These are the latest from Hyacinth. No, I'll go become the ship again and keep an eye out for people trying to make a getaway, and waiting to hear from your Dad."

"Thanks Northern, thanks Fen." Zhe pushed the cycle button on the airlock. "Let's go make sure my Dad has a place to come home to."

As they stepped into the Heap, there was a K'laxi that Fen didn't recognize standing around. His gun - a human pistol modified for K'laxi use - was in its holster around his chest, and his tail was limp and his years droopy. He was clearly bored. Zhe flicked the soar knife at him and took his head off before he even registered their presence.

With a twist of her wrist, the soar knife reeled itself back to her hand, the blood flying off as it returned. "This way Fen." She pointed towards one of the doors over to the side. Striding up to it, the door slid open automatically.

"Oh Hey, Fe-" Another K'laxi's head removed before they could even finish their sentence. As they continued down the hall, Fen would see someone, kill them, and continue on. Fen followed mute, wondering what was going on. Surely there would be an alarm by now? Wasn't there some kind of central administration? Was the Heap really just a pile of ships loosely tied together?

They reached a bar or cantina or something. There were a few dozen people inside eating, drinking, playing games, nothing special, nothing specific. Zhe walked in and scanned the crowd. She gestured for Fen to stand back. As they did the bartender looked up and said, "Hey Zhe, are you here-" As their head was removed.

Zhe flicked both soar knives out and spun. This time, there was enough people that the screams could be heard. Fen would stand and gesture with her arms as the nearly invisible monofilament wire careened about the room. Tables, chairs, lights, flesh, nothing stopped it. People would stand up to reach for their gun and their top half would slide off their bottom half. They'd drop to the floor and try and shimmy away, and the blade of the knife would find the back of their neck. All Fen could do was watch and see if anyone got away.

None did.

Eventually, the screams turned to gurgles and whimpers, and then stopped. Zhe reeled the knives back to her hands and turned. In the corner was Rev, who was standing still as a statue, his hand still holding his drink, halfway to his mouth.

She was next to him in a flash, one of the knives in her hand millimeters from his eye. "Hemmi says you live." She looked down at his arm. "But living is a spectrum, isn't it?" She twisted her wrist awkwardly and the hand holding the drink popped off like it was a toy. To his credit, Rev didn't scream, but Fen could see the color run from his skin under his fur. Zhe reached into a pocket and slapped a portable med over the stump. "If I find that you reattached it, I'll take another and cauterize the stump with a laser." All he could do was nod.

"We're not done yet, Fen." Zhe didn't even look back as she left the bar.

They continued on, and there was a sound like thunder, distant and rumbling" Northern's firing the slug throwers." Zhe's answer was distant, distracted.

"Sorry ladies, had a ship try and make a break from the Heap. Zhe, do you want it destroyed or just disabled?"

"Disable it. No sense in wasting scrap. We'll take care of the crew and strip it for parts later. If nothing else, it'll have a wormhole generator." She stopped and thought. "Actually Northern, can you hole it? We can patch a hole, and that saves us the effort of boarding."

"If I couldn't do that, I'd have no right piloting a frigate, Zhe." They heard a sound like a single loud muffled thump, like someone dropped a dictionary in the next room. "They're holed. I can see them venting atmo. Should be gone by the time you're done with your massacre."

"Thanks Northern" Zhe continued on. "That ship probably held Xiian, daddly will be sad he died, but he'll understand."

"Who is Xiian?" Fen had decided a while back her only job was to follow along and give Zhe someone to talk to when she needed it.

"He's the one who tried to usurp daddy last time. He kept him alive as a warning."

"A warning about what?"

"A warning to others about what happens when you cross Hemmi Navarren. The idea was that anyone who got ideas would speak to Xiian and he'd set them straight. Worked for a few years, until it didn't." Almost as an afterthought, an alarm sounded throughout the Heap. Zhe looked up and frowned. "That'll be Elmar. She thinks that I won't kill her."

"Why would she think that?"

"She's one of my moms."

"Oh." K'laxi mating practices are... chaotic. Part of the reason that they didn't tend to place a lot of emphasis on who came from who was the fact that that nobody was ever really sure. Hemmi was unusual that he would run paternity tests to find 'his' kids, but apparently he never did that to find out which one of the females birthed them.

Zhe broke into a run and she took off down a hall. Fen ran to catch up. "Zhe, it seems like there's not a lot of people here?"

"Yeah, I think most of them left when word of the coup got out. People either loyal to Daddy but who didn't want to get involved, or people who wanted to just wait for it all to blow over. Makes our job easier at least. Hey Northern!" Zhe had toggled her comm. "Anyone else try to leave?"

"No Zhe, not yet. Though, I think I see your dad's runabout. I just caught a glimpse of a ship linking in nearby. They're a good distance out though, and keeping station."

"Yeah, that'll be dad. He's giving me a chance to finish the job."

"You have an odd family, Zhe."

"Oh, they're fine once you get to know them Northern. We'll have a reunion soon."

[jpitha]

Have you been to a teppanyaki restaurant lately? It's a fancy Japanese word that means, essentially, "fried on a metal plate." You go in there, you pay your money, and some dude does a bunch of corny jokes while frying your food right in front of you. Whole thing is a lot of fun, and you leave smelling like a barbecue just happened in your lap.

This sort of interaction between worker and customer is missing from many of our Western businesses. Things are just not fun. Nobody at McDonalds will flip a shrimp into her hat while cracking a joke about the stock market. When you get your car fixed, the team of mechanics doesn't build a flaming PB Blaster volcano to loosen the busted lower ball joint for your entertainment. And when you get someone to do your taxes, the lady they have working there takes one look at your box full of greasy parts-store receipts and just cries a whole lot, over and over, until the manager comes out and asks you to leave.

I figured it was time to change things up. Rather than ask already-overworked and heavily-underpaid workers to add an additional piece of unnecessary and annoying customer interaction to their plate, I wisely decided it would be best to ease everyone into it. Luckily for me, my general geographic area contains a very popular clown college. Thanks to recent maybe-errors in immigration policy, this school has over three thousand students at the moment, all learning the ins and outs of clownery and begging for a job, any job. And – unlike actual comedians – they don't get all froggy if you throw two dozen of them into a car and go driving around town, dropping them off at every business who won't pay our very reasonable "dismissal fee."

Friends, I'll be the first to admit that I fucked this one up, big time. I had absolutely no idea that clown makeup was flammable, or that their extensive bozo education did not include knowledge on safe food prep. That's just what happened at the A&W, which would have been bad enough if not for all the other stuff that happened. You've heard the rest of the defence from my team of attorneys, but I wanted you to hear it from me personally. If anyone has learned his lesson about employing clowns to blow up and then pop a balloon animal for laughs while standing next to the police bomb squad, it's me.

[jpitha]

Humans have the capability of perceiving when they're being stared at, even if they can't see it.

Dr. T'Chem was staring at Lieutenant /θkɡɾɑːˈŋæ/ (or as his current fling affectionately nicknamed her, "Tucker-Annie"), whose dorsal spikes were still rattling after the incident at the holodeck. It was his first time at the witness stand, and he didn't want to ruin a young star sailor's life.

Lieutenant Tucker-Annie was the combat specialist in charge of the training dojo of Federation Vessel TSN457, named after the Terra-Saturn-Ceres coalition where Dr. T'Chem currently served as the xenoanthropologist charged with facilitating human integration to the local Federation of Fraternal Planets and Satellites. The FFPS had the goal of finding planets with intelligent life to trade resources and technology, and due to their recent incorporation, local research vessels were fitted with diverse crews to acclimate everyone to each other's cultures and biological needs. Dr. T'Chem was the human expert in the ship, and was tasked with helping smooth over interpersonal relations among the crew.

The relations were, at that moment, as bumpy as Lt. Tucker-Annie's dorsal spike line.

An incident had occurred during a training exercise. The squad consisted of a Venusian, two Saturnians, three Ceresians, two monks from the Transcorporeal Temple of Robotic Ascension, and five Terrans (two humans, two dogs and a cybernetically enhanced cat). The exercise consisted of getting through a generic jungle scenario and, unbeknownst to the squad, avoiding a team of ninjas lead by Lt. Tucker-Annie trying to take them out one by one. It was supposed to test the way they would react to a surprise attack.

It was not supposed to reveal that humans could sense when they were being stalked.

Of course, any trained sailor would have an ingrained knowledge of potential threats and how to spot them. Look for the shadows that are too dark, listen for the spot air isn't blowing from, things like that. Basic things most people don't think about but that can be identified if you think about them.

This was not that.

"Something's watching us," said Crew Johnson, in that sloppy way only creatures with lips spoke.

"What do you mean? There's cameras everywhere, of course they're watching us," responded Crew Hessikh, slithering over the vines on a tree branch to cross a river. She grabbed the axe in Crew Johnson's belt with her telekinesis and took down a small tree to serve as a bridge.

"Crew Flufflepaws, could you please take a look?" Asked Crew Johnson, nervously looking around. Crew Flufflepaws got on the tree as well and scanned the terrain from above.

"I can't see anything, or smell anything. And my hearing isn't what it used to be. I'll stay on the lookout for—" a horrendous hiss interrupted the automatic translator's feed. Crew Flufflepaws' comm line cut off.

Hessikh and Johnson looked at each other. That was the strongest fighter of their team, gone. They knew it was a simulation, but it still gave them chills.

The rest of their crew mates were split into two different teams further along the path. Crew Fanning's voice came from the comm line.

"Johnson, Hessikh, are you okay? What happened to Flufflepaws?"

"We don't know, Johnson said something was watching us and it went to check, then we lost comms."

"I felt it too. I know this isn't that kind of exercise but I think— AAAHHH!"

Two blaster shots were heard, then a thud.

Lieutenant Tucker-Annie, who was watching Hessikh and Johnson from the mud pit behind the latter, had her tranquilizer dart ready. She got ready to shoot down Hessikh, but then heard a voice over the comm line.

"Code Lithium, we have a Code Lithium, we have to end the simulation, I just took down- I can't-" the breathing was sounding heavier and faster, too fast for a human.

"Fanning, calm down, remember your sutras. We need you focused, what happened?"

"I felt like I was being watched, so I turned around and saw this thing and it scared me and I jumped and I thought it was on stun mode and-"

"It's alright, we're calling it off. Captain, we have a Code Lithium! End the simulation now or- fuck, there it is again. Hessikh, do you see any heat sources?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary- why haven't they shot it down alre-"

The next thing Lieutenant Tucker-Annie remembered was the sound of a heel turn over the mud, followed by darkness.

Lt. Tucker-Annie woke up in the hospital bay, getting her tail regenerated by a robot nurse. She looked over and found her underling on the next bed, with a huge bandage on the side of his neck and a wing in a cast. Thankfully, he would be alright as soon as the stem cell bank was reprogrammed after her treatment.

The disciplinary board was called, an investigation was open, and both Crew Fanning and their captain were put on paid leave while the investigation was ongoing. Dr. T'Chem was called in as an expert after a review of the holodeck footage revealed there was no way Crew Fanning could have heard, seen or smelled the hidden sailor.

It was the first time in a while he hadn't helped himself to a glass of Venusian whiskey for breakfast. He really didn't want to mess this up.

"And would you care to explain how this is possible, Doctor?" Asked the prosecution, staring him down with an unnerving amount of eyes.

"I am as astounded as this court; our firm has been looking into Terran medical literature and we're still trying to figure out how it works; they don't even know, but they know it does happen, it's been documented for thousands of years. I have a hypothesis, but I don't know if it's even testable."

There was a murmur in the court. The judge asked him to elaborate.

"The way eyesight works is the light bounces off of opaque bodies and in its way it collides with the lenses in our corneas, which send it to the brain as electrical signals to be interpreted. The light that doesn't go into our eyes just bounces off our bodies and other opaque objects as well, the photons go everywhere and anywhere. This is the same for most species in this constellation, including humans. But even other Terran species don't have these abilities, as Crew Flufflepaws has testified."

A begrudging meow was heard from the audience.

"Order in the court, please. Dr. T'Chem, what do you suggest is the origin of this mysterious sense?"

The camera drones all hoovered around him. Dr. T'Chem straightened his fins and got close to the microphone.

"I believe it's possible that humans have a sense of touch so sensitive that they can feel the photons that don't bounce back. The ones that go into an eye instead of an opaque body. I think humans can actually feel in their skin when they are being watched."

There was an uproar in the crowd. His paramour, a dark skinned young human from the human settlement known as "Colombia", grabbed the religious symbol on her necklace and made a gesture with it he hadn't quite figured out yet.

The trial had to go on recess.

The implications were incalculable. Three dozen biologists from six different planets, including Terra, had emailed him before the end of the day to ask him to justify himself. Multiple human religious leaders took the chance to link it to demonic possession or moral evils. By the end of the week, four different labs were trying to figure out a way to double blind test shooting a photon cannon on a human's back and trying to get them to sense it.

But most importantly, the news made it outside of the Federation. The rumours about this new species that couldn't be stalked got so far, it ended up affecting the outcome of a border conflict with the Betelgeuse Libertarian Army on the Federation's favour.

Humans were terrifying.

If this is what they evolved to be, what was their planet like?

[jpitha]

Don't you hate it in science fiction when the protagonist knows exactly how something works, right down to the theory and components? That pulls me right out of the story. I don't know how a garage door opener works, you probably don't either, so I wouldn't spend four paragraphs explaining it to a hot alien chick I just met. I'd be too busy asking her if she has Craigslist on her phone.

I can absolutely understand why authors want to do this, though. When you're writing a novel, the blank page is terrifying. You fill it with what you know, and if you've been studying "cool spaceships," it turns out that will be top of mind for a little while until you discover a Wikipedia article about a new kind of gravity. The same thing happens at parties. If you ask me about the weather, the conversation will inevitably degenerate into a discussion of exactly when you need to start looking for oversized crankshaft bearings and what kinds of semi-truck batteries are the right size to steal for use in a car. It's detail you don't need, in other words, but that I have in large quantities.

What's the solution for this? Knowing nothing at all. Studies have shown that the less you know, the happier you are. Doing these studies made the scientists involved sadder, which is basically a peer-review if you ask me. The less you know about a subject, the more easily you can let the plot take over. For instance, I don't have a really solid idea of where on the map Egypt is, but if you asked me to throw together a novel about it, it would probably be a pretty good banger until the halfway mark where they find an old Jeep that doesn't run and the next two hundred pages are a regurgitation of the Haynes manual's wiring diagram section. Come to think of it, that would be an amazing book.

So in conclusion, try to know less tomorrow than you know today. Go out there and forget a whole bunch of stuff. Head to your local public library and rub your face on the books until the ideas come back out of your brain and embed themselves inside the pages, where they belong. And then get back home, grab your 1977 Royal Sahara typewriter, which is really a rebadged Triumph-Adler, and re-lube the strike hammer elbow to get rid of that weird little squeak in the spaceb – oh no, it's happening again. I gotta get to the library.