Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 26

8/14/2019 Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 26

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July 15, 2007Issue 26


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Ray Gun Revival magazine Issue 26, July 15, 2007

Overlords (Founders / Editors):Johne Cook, L. S. King, Paul Chrisan Glenn

Venerable Staff:A.M. Sckel - Managing CopyeditorShannon McNear - Lord High Advisor, grammar consultant, listeningear/sanity saver for Overlord Lee

Paul Chrisan Glenn - PR, sounding board, strong right hand

L. S. King - Lord High Editor, proofreader, beloved nag, muse,

webmistress

Johne Cook - art wrangler, desktop publishing, chief cook and bole

washer

Slushmasters (Submissions Editors):Sco M. SandridgeJohn M. WhalenDavid WilhelmsShari L. ArmstrongJack Willard

Serial Authors:Sean T. M. SennonJohn M. WhalenLee S. KingPaul Chrisan GlennJohne Cook

Cover Art: Dragons Nest Reduxby Josh Graon

Without Whom... Bill Snodgrass, site host,Web-Net Soluons, admin, webmaster, database admin, mentor, con-dante, liaison Double-edged Publishing

Special Thanks:Ray Gun Revival logo design byHatchbox Creative

Visit us online athttp://raygunrevival.com

Ray Gun RevivalTable of Contents

All content copyright 2007 byDouble-edged Publishing,a Memphis, Tennessee-based non-prot publisher.

Rev: 20070715c

2 Table of Contents3 Overlords Lair5 Fast Hands by Robert Mancebo10 Spineless by Brandon Barr17 Featured Artist: Josh Grafton22 The Adventures of the Sky Pirate Chapter 13, Aloft!

by Johne Cook31 Memory Wipe Chapter 13, Evils of the Desert

by Sean T. M. Stiennon39 The RGR Time Capsule

May 15 - July 14, 2007
http://www.hatchbox.com/http://www.hatchbox.com/


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Wow! Can you believe it? Ray Gun Revival is inits second year now! To quote Syndrome fromThe Incredibles, Im still geeking out aboutthat!

Were settling in, now, I think, and feeling a bitmore comfortable with what were doing. Ourvaporization aim is improving at any rate, Imhappy to say. Just call me One Shot Lori.

This issue has some fun offerings. First up, astory that made me grin from beginning to end.Robert has been published before to greatacclaim in Ray Gun Revival magazine, and is afan favorite. I think youll enjoy Fast Hands byRobert Mancebo:

Captain Priest has to extricate himself fromtrouble with only a big gun and fast hands.

Youyou could help me. The girl battedher big, blue eyes at me.

I looked around to see if there wassomeone else standing nearby that she

might be talking to. Maam, despite mynatty trappings, Im truly not a knight inshining armor. I holstered my pistol andre-tucked my old khaki shirt into my fadedbrown pants. I haul freight. And thats formoneynot for begging girls, nor pleadingstrumpets. Ifn you got paying cargo tamove you knock on by dock 112 tomorrowmornin and ask for Capn Jess Priest.

Why, you hillbilly son-of-a I reckon shedecided that wheedling wouldnt work. Thelittle chameleon was trembling in anger andwhipped a pocket laser outta the big purseshe toted. Were done when I say we are!

Brandon BarrsSpineless is up next:

A timid entomology professor sent to a spacestation to deal with an emergency situation.

The twelve marines and I stood in themain corridor, in the oxygenated, gravityenhanced atmosphere; and above us,coming through a torn vent, were three bigslugs.

They were beautiful...

I had never seen gastropods so large amongthe species of Earth. A glittering, diamondblue sheen covered their upper mantle,stopping in a wavy pattern at the genitalopening. The lower keel was a blazingdesign of purples and reds, reminding me

of the beautiful sea slugs found throughoutEarths oceans. They moved towards us,slipping out from the vent, their silverysecretion holding them to the ceiling.

The slugs optical tentacles were pointed atthe three lead marines. The soldiers stoodfrozen, guns raised. Still the eye stalksstared.

This episode of The Adventures of the SkyPirate starts the second season of the serialnovel. Where season one centered aroundswashbuckling adventure, the secondseason takes on a different tone of escalatingsteampunk technology. This issue, we presentChapter 13,Aloft!by Johne Cook:Can Cooper Flynn and his newly-assembledcrew retake their ship?

Wheres this flappin ship, hissed Bola,turning around to grouse to the little band.Ive been waiting six months for this. Imhere to pinch a ship, and I dont see mypayday.

Patience, Bola. Youll get your payday.Youve waited six months, just wait onemore minute, murmured the captain as hefaced her. To answer your question, in thiscase, its to your starboard.

Whats starboard, she said, spinning inplace, looking around for the ship.

Flynn touched her right shoulder. Starboardis to your right. And then he pointed to theship. Not out, but up.

As one, they leaned out under the tarp andlooked up. Eggplant started a low whistle,which was abruptly silenced by Pitts gently

Overlords Lair


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firm hand over his mouth, but it summedup the moment. They all followed thetether rope up to see the ship silhouettedup there against the moonlit sky, floatingone hundred feet in the air above the quietport of Bitten Bay.

Finally, Memory Wipe continues in thisissue withChapter Thirteen, Evils of theDesertby Sean T.M. Stiennon:

Takeda and his companions are thrown into further trouble. They arrive at Nihils colonyonly to discover all the inhabitants have beenslaughtered.

Takeda heard a gunnot Zartsisdischarge, off to his left side.

He threw his weight backwards, kicking offthe one foot planted on the ground. Hissuddenly heightened senses could almostfeel the spray of bullets going past his hairand biting into the dust of the road. Hisshoulders crashed back against the door,and he caught himself on the doorframe.The automatic rifle tracked up for a second,bullets shredding the steel awning. Takedatensed himself for a roll out into thesunlight. He prayed hed be able to reachthe alleyway before the gunman couldreact. Takeda knew he couldnt run fasterthan bullets.

Only when the bullets stopped did Takedarealize one of them had punched throughhis right foot.

He heard gunfire above again, but this timenone of it was directed at the street. Theman must be firing at someone elseZartsi

or Esheera. Takeda threw himself out intothe sunlight. Fire lanced through him as hiswounded foot struck the ground, spurtingblood.

As Syndrome might say, Its bigger. Itsbadder. Ladies and gentlemen, its time to

read Ray Gun Revival!

L. S. KingOverlord, RGR


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Fast Hands by Robert Mancebo Pg. 5


Iaint never been accused of havin an over-abundance of brains, I explained to thelittle tart whod taken hold of my left arm asthough she was plannin on climbing it. Butthere are other gifts that God giveslike fasthands!

Most folks figure a man who carries ahandgun butt-forward on his right hip is a lefty,and that girl had taken her strangle-hold on myleft arm when a spaceport streetlight revealedthree men dragging on their guns.

The gang only realized their mistake when

I flashed out my pistol with a right-handedtwist draw and a 20mm gyro-stabilized rocketdropped the closest man in mid-motion. Thesecond fellow was taking aim when a rocketput a smoky trail through both him and thebuilding at the end of the alley. That thirdfellow just tossed his piece as though it was afist full of sizzling bacon and raised his handsabove his wide eyes.

Scat! I gave a dismissing wave of my uglyM-20 Devastator recoilless rocket pistol, and

all that was left of him was flapping coattailsand flailing elbows as he sprinted off into thenight.

The girl was a hook, of course, a piece ofbait to lure me into that alley. Her job was tolead me into their trap and hold my shootinarmas though she was scaredwhile theyblasted holes into my carcass.

You was easy ta figure, I lifted the chin

of the clinging girl with my gun muzzle. Evena ijit like me knows that no foofaraw port gal

is gonna pick up a tramper unless shes eitherpaid for it or up to no good.

You killed them? she ignored my Devas-tators big barrel to stammer.

You want to maybe leave go of my limb?I pushed her away with the muzzle so she hadto let go or risk bruising.

But they were supposed to be the best!she sniveled.

Everyones entitled to their opinion. Iswapped magazines to make sure my M-20was full again. A feller never knows whichcorpses have armed friends in a port town,and newcomers to a planet are pretty muchfair game for any local sharks.

They werent supposed to kill you, shesaid in a plaintive, explainin sort of voice. ButI need a lift off-planet right now!

Everybody needs somethin. You got the

cash?

No, but please, youve got to take me!

As the good book saysno cash/nopassage.

What good book says that?

The ledger book in my cabin! I informedher. And its good so long as it aint scribbled

up with all kinda red pen marks!

Im dead, she said in a hollow voice.Theyll kill me!

Well, off the top of my head, I opined.I cant think of anyone around here whatdeserves it more. But then Im new to port;Im sure Ill be introduced to others moredastardly in due time.

Youyou could help me. She batted herbig, blue eyes at me in a sorta come-hitherfashion.

I looked around to see if there was someoneelse standing nearby that she might be talkingto. Maam, despite my natty trappings, Imtruly not a knight in shining armor. I holsteredmy pistol and re-tucked my old khaki shirt intomy faded brown pants. I haul freight. Andthats for moneynot for begging girls, norpleading strumpets. Ifn you got paying cargota move you knock on by dock 112 tomorrowmornin and ask for Capn Jess Priest.

Any other business we might have dabbledin this evenin has been terminated by youreagerness ta get me killeded.

Why, you hillbilly son-of-a I reckon shedecided that wheedling wouldnt work. Thelittle chameleon was trembling in anger andwhipped a pocket laser outta the big purseshe toted. Were done when I say we are!She waved the wicked little weapon under mynose like she was more than passin familiar

Fast Handsby Robert Mancebo


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with its use.

Yes, Maam. Whatever you say, Maam.Mamma always taught us boys it s best to humoran irate woman waving a lethal weapon.

Look, its not my fault I dont have passage

money! Jimmy botched the heist, not me! Thenhe led them to me, and got himself killed rightafter he passed me the she realized shedsaid too much and snapped her mouth with ascowl like Id made her do it. You get me off-planet tonight, or Ill leave you in this alley forthem to find in the morningin a puddle ofblood!

Well now I probably couldve grabbed hergun hand and snapped it, taken the weaponaway, and sauntered off about my business.

A few things stopped me though. First andforemost was, her mention of some itemwhich sounded like it might be worth a passelo cash. Secondly was, she was a pert littlething, despite her ugly attitude. She only cameup to my shoulder and had long blonde hairthat was all duded up like them fashion modelson the tri-D programs. Thats what caught myattention about her to begin with. Thirdly,Mamma raised me up not to hit no girls. Itmight just have been simple self preservation,what with us boys runnin wild an all, but shecalled it manners and she caned manners intous from the time we was too little ta lollup herback. Just thinkin about bustin one on thelittle snip give me a memory of stingin weltson my rump, so I acted the gent and pretendedta listen.

You are taking me! she said with a waveof that little burner. Whether or not youwant to. I should be able to pay you after we

get to Caulkus IV. Ill get the money. Really Iwill. But we have to leave She looked overmy shoulder and her eyes widened as a doorbanged open and men poured into the alley.

Right now!

While her attention was distracted by the

stampede, I gave her a mite of a shove so shesorta bounce off the wall a little and lost herlaser in the gutter somewheres. While she wasoccupied with cussin and scrabblin for herweapon, I took off running.

It was a pretty good race. There were menshoutin and beams and bullets tearin throughthe night around me. It almost reminded meof back home on Perdition on Saturday night.Somehow that spittin wildcat got up, orientedherself, and began sprintin right along behind

me.

What are you followin me for? I demandedbetwixt breaths. I figured that they were afterher not me, and it took all the good mannersMa beat inta me not to trip her and leave herfor em.

You have to take me to Caulkus IV!

Hate ta disappoint you, but when we getto my ship, the first thing Im doin is lockin

you outside!

You wouldnt!

Well they aint after me!

All right, we took the Plutaran Sunstar,okay?! she finally shouted. If you get me outof here, Ill cut you in for a share!

That big ol jewel the planetary governorsso proud of? I laughed. Bah! Youre not even

a good liar!

Look! She pulled a jewel the size of agoose egg out of her purse, and it flashed ina passing streetlight. Now get me out of here,and youre in for a share.

How big a share?

What? She was getting tired and frantic.The mob was closing, but their shooting wasgettin worse as they huffed along after us.

How big a share? Im just askin.

Ten percent! she offered.

Fifty percent or no ride.

All right. Fifty percent!

I knew she was lying then. No thief wouldvegiven a percentage like that without haggling.Theyd as soon have let the mob pry it fromtheir cold, dead clutches as split it fifty-fifty.

It was still a good offer though.

So, are those fellers chasin after us localpolice?

Them? No. Jimmy was drinking and openedhis big yap to his girlfriend. Shes got mob con-nections. As soon as her mob friends found outwhat we stole, they came after us.

Cut left! I ordered and I yanked her by thearm when she wasnt quick enough.

Dont slow down! she called back at me.Theyll catch up!

Naaaw. Watch. I trotted as the mobfollowed us around the corner in a huge, dark


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mass.

But theyll she began.

I stopped and whirled, drawing and firing ina single motion. That old 20mm belched a triplevolley and those high-velocity rounds left three

tumbling furrows entirely through the mob. Itwas like bowling. Men were kicking and trippingover the trails of bodies, then over each other.I think it took em a couple of seconds ta realizewhat had happened. But before those bodieshit the ground, I was already running again.

What did you?

No one will really want ta catch up with usnow, Maam. Not without the whole mob taback em up. All I have ta do is stop an look at

em and theyll scatter like flies when ya bang agarbage can.

Dont get too cocky, she warned. Theyvegot some real killers in that pack!

I figure I can handle whatever comes up, Iassured her. You just keep a tight hold on thatstone, and leave the fightin ta me.

She mumbled something, and when I askedher what she said, she replied, I said, I justmight.

Sounded more like, damned troglodyte, tome, but it wasnt good manners to call a ladya liar.

Well, we run up lamp-lit streets and down,and she was a good trotter, that gal. I imagineshed been chased a few times before. I ranus toward the city park where we could filterinto the trees fer cover, but when we got close,three groundcars pulled up in a rippin slide to

block the way. A bunch of fellers piled out withheavy artillery in-hand.

Theyve got rifles! that fool girl yelled asthough I couldnt see fer myself.

Seemed as though they were expectin us

to stop when we seen em. But you know howdisappointing expectations can be. Me, I justlet fly on the run and dropped four of em byshootin through them vehicles. A hot roundpunched through the hydrogen fuel cell of onecar, and the flame-geyser was a awe inspiringsight. Those fellers suddenly remembered freebeer somewhere or another cause they tookoff runnin ta get some.

I woulda liked to commandeer one of theircars, but them things have tricky codes to start

em and such-like. So I just kept us runnin inthe general direction of the docks.

I was trottin along, guidin us frommemory, and I wasnt doin too bad consid-erin I was workin off a glance at a city map Iperused when wed touched down, when werun smack-dab into a dead-end alleyway.

I hit the recall button on my wrist chronom-eter, and sent a signal and a prayer.

There was one of those dim old yellow illu-minators leanin off a bent pole in the corner,and it showed the three tall, smooth walls thatreared up to completely block our escape.

Whatever kind of a ijit puts a blind alleybetween plasteel skytowers? I demanded ofthe sheer walls around us.

Weve got to that girl started ta runback down the way wed come, but a promis-

cuous volley from the mob charging from thatdirection drove her back toward that blankwall behind us.

I yanked a bright red magazine from my leftboot and shoved it into my M-20.

Red?! My annoying companion yelled.Thats not

I flipped my thumb selector to automaticand squeezed the trigger. As my arm swept theonrushing mob, the Devastator made a rapidpop-popping like someone opening bracesof champagne bottles. I dove for the street,sweeping that irritating gal into my arms as Ipassed.

Several things happened at once. She

squealed like a piglet with its tail in the gate,I hit the blasted pavement hard enough torip a nasty road-rash across my left arm, andthe dim alley erupted in billowing blossoms ofliquid fire.

Pandemonium was the word for it. Hellopened up right there before us. When theflames died down to a smolder, I let that girlgo and she loosed a brazen string of cussin thelike of which I never imagined could come outof a pretty, painted mouth.

Me, I winced at the gravel embedded inmy arm more than her lurid profanity. I shovedanother magazine into my M-20 and let theslide slam home with authority.

The firestorm had subsided, and I could seescattered figures heedlessly walking throughthe ugly, charred garden of their formercomrades.


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Sissy! a voice called out from the gatheringremains of the mob. I want the stone!

Go to hell! she snarled back while clutchingher purse.

This is not a negotiation, you double-

crossing bitch!The remainder of the mob churned into

the light with a tall gent out front. Well, fromthe way her story and demeanor had changed,I had a sneaking suspicion that wed run intoher partner, Jimmy, who might not be nearly asdead as shed reported.

I didnt have time ta clear up such triviali-ties, as there was still a substantial group of emandunless the whole bunch gathered into a

single linemy last lone magazine of ammowasnt goin ta be much use.

Give it to me now, the man warned. Orwell pick it up off your riddled corpse!

Go to hell! She was a feisty one all right,but Im afraid she didnt have the sense thatGod gave geese.

Uh, folks I interrupted while slidin myDevastator into its holster and holding upmy empty hands between em. Now I dontmean to be buttin in, but this here palaver is amight pointless. Wed all get along a whole lotbetter if you fellers would learn ta respect theproperty rights of other folks.

What? the man demanded. Where didthis backwoods bumpkin come from?

Finders-keepers you know. Me, I wasactually payin attention to the proximity alertflashin on my wrist chronometer as it changed

from amber to red.

Somebody shoot this hillbilly! hedemanded.

Sure, sure, I waved my raised hands. Butbefore you do, I just want ta cover my ears,

here.Why, Jimmy asked as a chuckle went

around the crowd. Afraid of gunfire?

Nope, I just dont like sonic booms. Ilooked skyward.

Now I must admit to bein a might smugabout my judgment of timing, but I havetrusted Renaldo, Skydancers pilot, with my lifeupon numerous occasions.

They naturally followed my eyes, looking upinto the empty night sky curiously. They didntquite grasp the situation until the shockwavefrom my ship, dropping at supersonic speed, just about ripped their eardrums open. Theyscattered as though a bomb had exploded, andRenaldo chased em down the alley with blazingspotlights and about a thousand rounds fromone of the ships machineguns.

Funny the effect an armed skyfreighterhas on folks nerves. I doubt they quit runninbefore they were a mile away.

And it was over. That girl an me stoodamongst the charred stink and the bullet-pit-ted street with the Skydancerrumbling aboveour heads.

I dont have to leave now, that Sissy girltold me. Without them chasing me, I canfence the Plutaran Sunstar on-planet and savethe price of a trip.

She was a thinkin one, Ill give her that.Except she was only thinking of herself.

What about my percentage? I demanded.

That was for delivering me to Caulkus IV.

So delivering you from your enemies hasno value?

Oh, all right! she snapped. She reacheddown somewhere Im embarrassed to mention,and pulled out a tidy wad of C-notes. Heres forthe ammo and fuel you burned. Theres threethousand there. That should compensate youadequately.

Well it aint the same as 50 percent of afortune, I told her as I pocketed the money.But I suppose itll have ta do. I ignored thefact that that little tart had the money forpassage all the time she was wheedling me totake her gratis.

I knew it! She proved that gratitude wasgreater than greed by throwing herself againstme and wrapped her arms around my neck. Iknew you were a hero! She kissed me then.Kissed me in a way that made me wish she wasshipping out with us, greedy, bad tempered,an all. I mean, after all, no ones perfect.

But she left. She left with me standin therelike a bull dazed by a mallet. I was so stupefiedthat the aerolift Renaldo dropped almost killedme when it hit.

I stepped onto the lift and was whisked upinto the belly of the Skydancer.

You been doin freebies again, Capn?Renaldo demanded in his grating voice.


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Nope. I replied proudly. Paid assistance.I got three thousand When I reached towithdraw the money, I came out with a fewwisps of pocket lint.

Why that no-good, little minx! I railed.She picked my pocket when she kissed me!

You lie down with dogs and you get fleas,boy, the grizzled pilot pontificated.

After all I done for her, saved her life an all,and she didnt even pay fer fuel an ammo!

Ask and you shall receive, he laughed atmy shame.

I was just startin ta like her too. The depthsof feminine perfidy know no bounds! I believemy feelins is scarred permanently.

Let the buyer beware, he cackled in lordlymirth.

Let the buyer? I wasnt buyin nothin, yaijit!

I know, but I used up all the good philoso-phies already, he admitted.

Well take us out of this system, ya cacklinghyena.

Where to, Capn?

Somewhere we can fence this, I saidflashing him the Plutaran Sunstar.

Where did you get

Momma raised us boys up ta be polite, notfoolish. When napalm rounds commence taburstin and folks get throwed to the ground,they tend ta get distracted. Almost anythin

can happenwhen a feller has fast hands.

I tossed the big jewel up so that it flashedlike a ball o fire in the cabins lights then put itinto Renaldos hand.

Better lock that up and get us movin old

man. We can avoid a whole passel o troubleif were clear of this system before that littlevixen talks someone into chasin after us.

Robert Mancebo

Robert is a former soldier, locksmith,

and technician. He has had dark and

historical fantasy published both on-line

and in various magazines.


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Spineless by Brandon Barr Pg. 10


Inever thought Id say this but, if the govern-

ment hadnt trampled my rights and hurledme into a Def-Con-Four space disaster, I wouldstill be a timid, middle-aged entomologyprofessor living in his mothers basement.

The life-changing incident happened twoyears ago, in the summer of 2086. I was workingat Quinbrook University on my grant project,when there was a knock on the lab door.

Four large men in black suits stood in thehallway. Each gave a quick, cheerless smile and

a nod. Are you Professor Calvin Lemmick?

I am, I said, drawing out the two syllablesin my most irritating, nasal tenor.

One of the men stepped forward.Professor, were here on direct order from thePresident of the United States. The man heldout an identification badge. We need you tocome with us.

You must have made some kind of

mistake. Im only an entomology professor.Now, if youll excuse me, Im in the middle ofsomething important. I started to shut thedoor when one of the big jerks stuck out hisboot and jammed my effort.

Are you Calvin Lee Lemmick, the self pro-claimed Mr. Slug, according to the Journal ofNature?

Well, ah, yes, thats me, but II cant just

leave. One of the government goons stepped

beside me and slapped his palm between myshoulders.

Sure you can he said, and pushed meforward into the waiting arms of his black-suited buddies.

A helicopter and Humvee ride later, I foundmyself at some middle-of-nowhere militarycompound in the Nevada desert. And still Ihadnt gotten a single word of explanationbeyond the phrases, shut up and keep

quiet.

They marched me into a dome-like structureand jostled me onto an elevator, taking me God-alone-knows how many levels underground,and steered me into a big conference room fullof uniformed men and women.

I was led to a seat at a large circular table,and as soon as I sat down, a bald man with noless than twenty ornate medals hanging fromhis blue suit stood up out of his chair.

This briefing is for you, Professor Lemmick,he said. Im sure youre wondering why youvebeen brought here.

I looked up at him, intending to give himthe most dirty, piercing stare I could muster.Instead I nodded submissively.

Slugs, about a foot long, have taken upresidence inside the space station. We need

an expert, Professor. And you are the premier

specialist in the nation on, ah, slugs. Werehoping youll accompany our crackerjack teamof space marines aboard the ship, that is, if youagree to go. We cant force you.

Gastropods! In space?

Thats right, Professor.

I swallowed my enthusiasm, spotting achance to recapture my dignity. So, I said,slouching rebell iously in my chair, if I dont go,

youll have no expert to

Actually, interrupted the decorated man,a Dr. Warren Thompson is on his way to thebase. So if you decline, then hell get to go upinstead.

Thompson! That hack! His research onnudibranchs was a colossal failureno matterwhat the Journal of Entomology thought.Well! Of course Ill go!

The decorated man gave a knowing grin.I was escorted from the room and rushed

through a series of medical exams. I sincerelybelieve that the cockroaches in my laboratoryreceive finer treatment than I was given. Anhour later, I was soaring through space withthe twelve marines.

The G-forces slamming against my insideswere tremendous. I felt I was finally able to

Spinelessby Brandon Barr


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empathize with all those poor insects glued tothe grille plate of my Buick.

When the space station came into view,the marines helped me into a lightweight suit,connected a catheter, and locked a helmet onmy head.

Lets get a move on, Professor, one ofthem barked at me.

The bay door swung open and the twelvemarines stood waiting for me with heavy shockguns in their hands. I was going in! My stomachdropped into my bowels, and the catheter gotits first test run.

#

It was astonishing. The bald-headed manwith the ten pounds of decoration had toldus the slugs were a foot long. He was wrong.Either the initial assessment by the spacestation crew was badly underestimated, or thegastropods had grown another foot since thelast transmission.

The twelve marines and I stood in the maincorridor, in the oxygenated, gravity enhancedatmosphere; and above us, coming through atorn vent, were three big slugs.

They were beautiful...

I had never seen gastropods so large amongthe species of Earth. A glittering, diamond-bluesheen covered their upper mantle, stoppingin a wavy pattern at the genital opening. Thelower keel was a blazing design of purples andreds, reminding me of the beautiful sea slugsfound throughout Earths oceans. They movedtowards us, slipping out from the vent, their

silvery secretion holding them to the ceiling.

The slugs optical tentacles were pointedat the three lead marines. The soldiers stoodfrozen, guns raised. Still the eye stalks stared.

What do we do now, called one of the

forward marines.Marissa, the task force leader, glanced my

way. Lemmick, these slugs look friendly toyou?

I think theyre intelligent, I called out.

Yeah? Why?

Look at their eyes. Normally gastropodscan only detect movement, and we haventmoved. Their eyestalks are on us. Theyre

watching us.

Marissa tapped her finger against thetrigger ring. Damn! I guess that means wecant kill em. Her face suddenly contorted.

Baker, get back!

It all happened so fast. One moment thegastropods were slipping along the ceiling, thenext they were airborne, springing forwardlike wolf spiders. Three marines were on the

ground, each had a slug wriggling up their ven-tilator tube.

Should I shoot em off?

Use your brains, Bingmen. No way!

The three downed soldiers were franticallytrying to pull the slugs out from the tubing, buttheir hands slid off the gelatinous membranewithout affect.

That will only make it worse, I offered,Youll only cause them to secrete more!

Shut up, Lemmick, Marissa yelled at me.

How bout we flash burn the buggersoff?

Marissa nodded, That sounds good, Vince!Use your burner.

No! Wait! I yelled. If theyre intelligent,maybe this is how they shake hands.

Jiminy Chrismas, Lemmick!

One of the marines raised a hot, blue torchattachment from his suit and put it downtowards the last protruding quarter of a slug.

Move your hands, meathead.

Before the fire touched the slug, thegastropod disappeared into the tube.

Blast! Theyre in the frigging tubing!

The torch bearer jumped to the nextdowned marine. As he did, the slug slitheredinside. He jumped to the last marine, but it wastoo late.

Whered they go?

I dunno, they coulda wriggled into theirwaste disposal bins.

Suddenly the buttocks padding on the threemarines bulged and each of their faces took ona pained, quizzical expression. Then the bulgedisappeared and the three marines went limp.

Marissa stood up, Ok, boys and gir ls, weregetting out of here. Grab em, and lets go. You


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too, Lemmick!

The incapacitated marines were heftedup. We all started towards the exit hatch andstopped.

It was covered by slugs.

#

Three two-footers moved around the doorin a quick circle. One gelatinous, mammothslugmust have been four or five feet longstaredat us through its two bulbous eyestalksas it hung from the ceiling tiles. The hatch waswet with slime trail residue. Globs of it slippeddown the door.

What were they doing? This was not the

typical unintelligent behavior Id witnessedcountless times in my studies. These thingsmoved with purpose, circling in tandem.

Cutting into my thoughts came a sudden,intense thrumming. It pounded at my head. Igrabbed my helmet, my gloved hands clawingat the plastic. There were noises, gurgling andwet. I felt my knees hit the floor.

Marissa screamed, Waste em marines!The thrumming in my ears stopped and the

nine standing marines unleashed their shockguns. The EM pulses popped the slugs openlike pinched grapes.

The mammoth slug ripped its way into theceiling tile before it was hit.

Get that big mother, cried Marissa. Sheraised her gun up and began blasting away atthe ceiling tiles, and the others followed herlead. Bits of white plastic and clouds of chalk

rained down from the ceiling. A moment latermy ears were shrieking with the sudden silence.Three bubbling invertebrate forms quivered infront of the exit hatch.

I rushed over and removed my gloves,touching the slick surface of one of the slugs.

A tingle of excitement ran up my arm. I beganstudying some of the spilled innards.

Get up, Lemmick, snapped Marissa. Thisisnt the time for that.

The hatch wont budge.

What?

The slime, the marine pounded on themetal, Its dried solid.

I jumped up at this and went to the door.Shocking, I thought, what a perfect defensemechanism...or was it more than that...a modeof attack? Incredible.

The two marines gave up tugging on thelatch and turned to Marissa.

Get on the com, Bingmen. Tellm whatshappened.

A marine kicked one of the pulpy carcasses.

Did you see that big mother slug? Shoot. Sixfeet long. It had to be. You ever hear of a sluggetting that big, Professor?

I studied his face a moment. Thats astupid question.

Okay! shouted Marissa. Since werestuck here for a while, might as well followthe mission plan. Find the crew and re-takethe space station. I saw her white teeth flash

through the shield mask, All right, marines,keep your eyes on the ceiling and off my bigbutt. Lets move!

#

We found the crew rather easily. They

were in their emergency lockers, under cryo-freeze. The popsicle shop, as the marinescalled it. It was located in the main hall of thespace station, and looked like it doubled for astorage bay. There were junked parts of satel-lites, Russian, Chinese, Australian, American,you name it, and it was in there. A basketballhoop hung on the wall in a tidied section of theroom.

So, we gonna wake em up?

I almost hate to do it, said Marissa, Theslugs cant get em in there.

Perhaps it would be wise to thaw only oneof them, I imputed.

There was a moment of silence, in which Ireceived more than a few dirty looks.

Youre right, Lemmick, said Marissafinally. And we can always put them back aftertheyve answered some questions.

Marissa chose to thaw Commander SueZeta. The capsule she lay in hissed as it releasedthe plasma seal. The woman inside was stillin her uniform, indicating she had been in ahurry.

Her eyes opened slowly. She focused on us,saw the marine uniforms. You look like angelsfrom heaven, she said.

They helped her out of the freezer. She


13/39



swayed a bit like shed just come off a boat.

Zeta explained how theyd first discoveredthe slugs during a routine maintenance checkof the outer hull. A cluster of eggs was wedgedin an exhaust vent. That made perfect senseto me. The moisture and heat was a perfect

incubator. After that, the space crew broughtthe eggs in, put them in a glass case, andradioed command. The next morning whenthey all woke up, the glass case was empty,with tiny holes bored in it.

The sound of splashing broke me from herstory, and I spun around. My ears began tohum. The others were still talking in the back-ground, but it was soft, fading. Other noiseswere growing louder, clearer. Milky scraping, amoist popping, oatmeal slopping onto a plate,

someone sucking the last traces of a milkshake. What were those sounds? Where werethey coming from?

Lemmick, what are you doing? It wasMarissa, her voice faint, as if traveling over agreat distance.

I turned around. I was off in a far cornerof the room, beside the junked satellites. Imhearing things, I called back. Marissa and a fewof the other marines started towards me. The

trance broke. The wet mushy popping soundscame together in grotesque harmony.

It sucked and gurgled.

My neck hairs prickled.

I...want...you...Lemm...ick, echoed theslurping voice. I fell backwards. The marinesbegan shouting, the EM pulses roared. Glancingup I could see the slugs dropping from the

ceiling. I crawled into a nook between two sat-ellites.

Lemm...ick...be...my...food . . .

My vision faded into swirling darkness.

#

When I came to and crawled out from myhiding place, there was shock gun damageevident all over the room. Timidly, I made ashort search of the interior, and the only thingsof interest were the empty emergency lockers.Why had the other two crew members beenthawed? A terrifying thought struck me. Couldthey have left without me? Maybe they hadntseen where Id crawled and chalked me up asslug bait.

Panic came crashing down on me. Alone!Abandoned! I pictured all my research at theuniversitymy specimensall my journals. Isaw my mother in her rocker. Saw myself sittingbeside hersaw my collection of Marvel Comicmagazines catch fire and begin to burn. The firespread, and in my vision I saw my laboratoryerupt into flames. And then...then somethingmiraculous happened. Like a Baptist big tentconversion.

No, I whispered. I sensed the powerbehind it.

I clenched my teeth. No, I said louder.

My hands rolled up into fists. My leg musclestensed. The vision flickered before my eyes,then died, but the purifying had been done. Iknew what I had to do now, and I needed...aweapon.

I found a blow torch hanging against thewall by the satellite pieces. I made a few adjust-ments to the gas release valve and strapped theaccompanying gas canister to my back. I gaveit a test and the room flared white. Anotherrarely tasted emotion pulsed through mybody, bulging the veins on my arms. Courage?

Audacity? Manliness?

Jaw forward, upper lip curled, I headed forthe door, the torch nozzle resting loose andeasy on my shoulder.

#

I strolled along the corridor. The lights weredimmed, casting off a yellowish tint and buzzingwith electricity. Red flashers set every three

meters pulsed like strobe lights. Something hadhappened while Id been unconscious. The shipwas now running on emergency generators.I cautiously opened each door I passed andpeered in. So far nothing but storage closetsand empty living quarters. The last door,before the corridor angled off to the right, wasthe kitchen. I went in and found what I waslooking for, hundreds of little packets labeledsalt. I stashed them inside a zippered pocket.I had never salted a slug in all my life. But thenagain, these werent your garden variety inver-

tebrates. No, no, it appeared these gastropodicfiends had traded in their plant-loving palatesfor a more carnivorous appetite, and I wasntabout to be desert.

I left the kitchen and turned down thecorridor on my right. Ahead I saw a T-junction.There was something bulky lying on the floor. Ipointed the nozzle gingerly. A marine lay dead,his back burst open like his spine was one longbomb. The results of a point blank EM pulse.


14/39



Down the right and left sides of the T-junctionwere more bodies. The flashing red strobe lightthrobbed against the gore. Each body had fried,crispy skin encircling an EMP blast crater.

The evidence was clear. Marine had turnedon marine. But why?

I recalled the three marines whod firstbeen attacked by the slugs. The gastropodshad actually disappeared inside their suits.Could they have been...infested? Perhaps somechemical expelled by the slug from within themens bodies could work like a hallucinogen.Could they havenoyes, turned into inad-vertent weapons of their hosts? It was theonly conclusion I could take from the carnagearound me.

I turned my thoughts to the voice Id heard.The gastropods had spoken to me telepathi-cally. Taunting, almost. A good tactic if onewanted to rattle their prey before an attack.But even more, these creatures had harnessedtelepathy. An unnerving conclusion begged thequestionhow intelligent were they?

A whir of distant EMP bursts brought me tomy feet. I moved steadily towards the sound,determined to aid the marines, and proveonce and for all, muscle without brains is like a

one-winged horsefly; a mean, angry bug with ahelluva big bite, but no sense of direction.

Time to rock this party, I growled

#

I came upon another half dozen bodies,EMP damage covering each corpse. I saw twobodies in blue casual jumpers. They were

clearly the two other space station crewmem-bers whod been in the emergency lockers.There were no weapons by them.

You are...the one...I seek...for my...harvest, came the wet, slopping voice in mymind. I clenched my teeth, eyes wide.

A hot, white blaze streamed from my torchnozzle. I twisted and turned in every direction,ceiling, floor, walls, all were swathed in ahighly concentrated flame. I let go the trigger.Blackened streaks zigzagged the corridor. Thehyperfoam in the ceiling burned lightly above.Safe? No. Effective? Yes. I moved on down thehall, the voice gone.

#

Yelling came from up ahead. I hurriedforward, pleased to know there were stillothers alive. I turned a corner and heardshouting. It was coming from behind a doorlabeled, Control.

I pressed against it, and turned the handleslowly, quietly. Dead ahead were several rowsof computer terminals planted in front of a bigplate window littered with stars. I crossed thethreshold, still unable to see the shouters. Anopen door led to a side room.

Drop it, slug whore! Youre one of them!

Filthy liar, its you theyve gotten to! cameMarissas voice.

I stepped softly over to the adjoining room,stopping just outside.

Dropthe gunnow. Id heard that voicebefore, it was Commander Sue Zetas.

I raised the jimmy-rigged blow torch, andstepped out from the wall.

Put em down, girls, I said, real mean-like.This stuffll melt your pretty faces real fast.They both stared at me. Marissas mouth fellopen. They dropped their weapons. Good.

Now do what daddy says. Kick em towards me.Thats it.

I scowled at them, squinting with my lefteye. Marissa gawked at me like I was the eighthwonder of the world.

You better talk fast, I said, thumbing theblow torch.

Marissa frowned, Yeah, Ill lay it down.Its real simple, Zetas been turned into a slug

zombie. Shes one of them.I turned to Zeta, pointing the nozzle at her.

No! Shes lying, cried Zeta. Its her! Shegot a slug in the brain. She killed the others!

I unzipped my pocket and brought out thesalt packet, shaking it so the granules dancednoisily. Maybe we need to administer a littletest then.

Zetas lower lip began to tremble.

No! Please No! cried Zeta, crumbling ontothe ground like I had some medieval torturedevice.

I nodded, feeling a bit guilty. I put the packetaway. Alright, talk. Why have they come here?Or, is it now: why have you come here?

She looked up at me, her eyes wet, human,but now that I knew the truth, I saw something


15/39



alien within them.

Itcame here peacefully...to harvest us.

Harvest goes fine with wheat and barley,baby, but not humans. And what do you meanit?

They are all one unit, one being.

Fine, I could accept that. And harvest?

It needs us for food. I know that soundsbad, but it isnt.

It aint good, I said.

Youre here to eat us? cried Marissa,backing away and stopping beside me.

Its not like you think, said Zeta. Theywant to eat us, but not kill us. Its more like amarriage than a funeral.

A juicy fact in the back of my mind wasscreaming to get out. Something Id picked upin my studies.

Zeta continued, Theyve come to join withus, two species becoming one.

I aint giving up my virginity to no spaceslugs! I yelled angrily, then wished Id kept my

mouth shut.

No! Nothing like that. Its more of a friend-ship. The hosts body takes nourishment fromus, but in return, feeds itself to us.

Youve got to be kidding me, saidMarissa.

But thats not the best part. We can travelacross galaxies, living off each other for many

thousands of years, exploring new worldstogether. The slugs body is equipped to travelthrough space! Imagine the sights we couldsee!

I stood there, weighing things in my mind.The missing detail buried in the back of my

brain surfaced. Sea slugs! There was a certainspecies of sea slugs that harvested coral,ingested it, and kept the coral alive withinitself for months. These extraterrestrial slugsclaimed that same ability, and now they wereapparently offering us some kind of, new life?

Zeta, are you, right now, part of thegastropod? I asked.

Her face was so human still, young,feminine.

It has begun. I can feel it changing me. Myeyes are different. They see deeper, clearer.

What happens next? I asked.

In the end, we will amalgamate.

I lowered the nozzle. Are your slug friendsnear? I asked with a touch of reverence.

Zeta turned her head to a corner of theroom.

A ceiling vent began to bulge, then itbroke in two with a loud crack, and fell to thefloor. Out from the opening crawled the big,mother slug. Two smaller gastropods riding onher mantle detached themselves and movedslowly forward.

What are you doing? Are you crazy! saidMarissa, staring wild-eyed at me.

Shut-up, said Zeta. Hes come to hissenses. Zeta sauntered up beside me andtook my hand, removing the suit glove. Theharvester is here. Do not be afraid. Her fingerswere wet, and gave like a soft pliable sponge. Athick film slid down my hand.

Id had enough.

Miss, that is one interesting grip you gotthere, I said, and lifted the nozzle.

Nooo! screamed Zeta, grabbing my arm.

I back-handed her, and it was like hittinga wet fish. Zeta stumbled backwards into thewall.

A slug sprang for me, but I caught it mid-airwith a burst from the blow torch. Somethingwas grabbing at my thigh and I looked down,expecting trouble. It was only Marissa claspedonto my leg. Her helmet had come loose andshe stared up at me, her lips flushed red andher hair flittering in the breeze from the openvent.

Hold tight, I shouted to her.

The other small slug made for the ventopening

Harvest this, I shouted, and a stream offire fried its carcass to the ceiling.

The mother slug hung motionless, theeyestalks glaring at me.

Zeta was up now, teeth barred. Youidiot!

Look here, Missy, I aint about to go andbe a glorified steak dinner. Now, have a seat.


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She obeyed.

I turned to the big slug. Whats your name,Gorgeous?

Its gurgling voice echoed in my head, Callme...Star Dancer.

All right, Star Dancer, you can come in niceand peaceful-like, or we can do this the hardway, and I cook you from keel to tenticularfeelers, its your choice.

Its coloring grew dark. I smiled.

Lemmick, it gurgled aloud, its mouthoozing spittle, I thought you...of all thisspecies...would understand.

I have to admit its an off day. I dont

normally do the whole commando thing.I looked down at Marissa, and winked. Sheswooned. I turned back to Star Dancer.

Now, Ill make you a deal. I take you hometo Earth, and I promise no harm will come toyou. You can stay in my laboratory.

The slugs mantle brightened. I will agree...but only if you promise two things...to keep anopen mind...about joining my harvest...and toallow Commander Zeta...to amalgamate with

me, in your laboratory.

I glanced skeptically over at Zeta, and shenodded with enthusiasm.

Star Dancer, I have to admit, thats oneheck of a retirement plan youre selling. MaybeIll take you up on it one day. I gave the blowtorch a quick twirl on my finger and in onemotion, secured it the side of my spacesuit.

Zeta, Star Dancer, youve got yourselves adeal.

Brandon Barr

Born in 1981, Brandon Barr currently

resides in Southern California with his

wife, Amanda. He graduated from

California Baptist University with a

degree in Enlish. His fiction has appeared

in Gateway Science Fiction, Nova

Science Fiction, Revelation Magazine,

andHaruah.

Brandons first novel, a space opera

titledWhen the Sky Fell, co-written withMike Lynch, is due out in February, 2008,

from Silver Leaf Books.

Check out his website and blog:

www.brandonbarr.comchristiansciencefiction.blogspot.com
http://www.brandonbarr.com/http://www.christiansciencefiction.blogspot.com/http://www.christiansciencefiction.blogspot.com/http://www.christiansciencefiction.blogspot.com/http://www.brandonbarr.com/


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Featured Arst: Josh Graon Pg. 17


Name:

Josh Graon

Age:

27-ish

Hobbies:

None reallyI live to work. : P

Favorite Book / Author:

Anything by David Eddings or Arthur C. Clarke.

Favorite Arst:

Toss up between Chris Foss and H.R Giger.

When did you start creang art?

As soon as I could hold a pen. Paper came a

lile later; there was a brief period of wall-

drawing...

What media do you work in?

Digitalthat fantasc material that you never have to clean up aerwards.

Where has your work has been featured?

Unl now, game mods mostlyVegastrike, a brilliant open source space trader/sim, the venerable Myth II (Aliens mod, v

spunky). I recently contracted to a major developer though so Im all NDAd up on that one.

Where should someone go if they wanted to view / buy some of your works?

deviantART.

Featured ArstJosh Graon
http://strangelet.deviantart.com/http://strangelet.deviantart.com/http://strangelet.deviantart.com/


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How did you become an arst?

Acids reacted at the embryonic stages of my physical development.

What were your early inuences?

Games workshop and Star Wars. Anything with plenty of guns andspaceships. I used to paint miniature gures and game with em, but

all that got blown away by the age of digital.

What are your current inuences?

Im in the fortunate posion where my peers are my primary

inspiraons. My current side project is the creaon of a grand sci-

universe incorporang mulple games, plenty of art and a ton

of con. The team atAngels Fall Firstis a collecon of the most

talented concepters, modellers and designers, and I love what weproduce together. Ive also been inspired a lot by some of the more

modern anime, specically The Animatrixand Steamboythe more

westernised stu, I guess. The combinaon of detail and energy is

wonderful.

What inspired the art for the cover?

The central ship, the Morningstar. Most of our art comes from a very

specic place in our grand archive of con at AFFU. At the me, we

were talking about the reformaon of the Antarean Empire and the

emperors desperate need to match the heavier League ships pound

for pound, but sll maintain his forces edgeits speed and agility.

Coincidentally, I like ns on spaceships (controversial) and Id

previously designed a very nny lile cruiser called the Dawnstar,

and post-raonalised that the ns were for Grav-Assist Steering

lending the bulky vessel addional maneuvering capabilies.


19/39



We pillaged the shapes from that design and had our lead

concepter, Felix Daemoria Zygmunt work out a big

brother balecruiser using even more ns to counter the

sheer scale of the thing. The Morningstarwas born in all

her scky-out glory. We knew that the AISN were buildingthese things in the planetary ring yards, so I just had to set

me up one of those for a render. Once the ship was nished

modelling, I just built the yard around her and lled it with

junk from our collecon of models :)

How would you describe your work?

Epic.

Where do you get your inspiraon / what inspires you?See above.

Have you had any notable failures, and how has failure aected your work?

Lazinessyou can see it everywhere. There are plenty of nasty texture glitches and intersecons and stu all over the place,

but if I spent a month on these things Id get bored as hell and never want to do another one. Most of the big renders I do are

just vehicles to pimp the game models anyhow, so the scenery is oen botched in to look all right.

What have been your greatest successes? How has success impacted you / your work?Geng a pro gig with a great company, Liquid Development. Im now working on a next gen AAA tle due out in 2008. Liquid is

an art-outsourcing house, contracng to game developers to ll out game worlds. They were good enough to give me a break

based on my amateur porolio, and Im currently doing lots of character textures. Working from home is coolI get to sit in

my lil studio in London and hang out with my cat whilst cranking out art for Liquid over in Oregon.

What are your favorite tools / equipment for producing your art?

Cinema 4d and Photoshop. I dont need much else except for a few sorely needed features currently only provided by industry

d h


20/39



dominators like Max and Mayanotably projecon rendering for baking normals. Basically means I have to reboot in Windows

for just one part of my otherwise OSX-only art pipeline.

What tool / equipment do you wish you had?

Bought it, mate. :) Apple MacPro QuadCore Xeon with an ATI x1900, fully bootcamped with OSX and Win XP playing nicely

together. God bless capital expenditure.

What do you hope to accomplish with your art?

Money and glory, man, money and glory.

F d A J h G P


21/39



Credits for the cover image:Morningstar-class balecruiser (center of shot) - built by Trevor FailureCrusade Jackson, designed by Felix Daemoria Zygmunt

Chons-class frigate(le in docks) and Quetesh drone interceptors(swarming) built by Kris Deathwish Wood, designed by Orbluvion (real nameunknown)

All textures,addional modelling and lighng/rendering by Josh Strangelet Graon

Apps used: Cinema 4d v10, Bodypaint v10, Photoshop CS, 3DS Max 9

This image is from the Angels Fall First project, a collecve of art, games and con set in a vast lucasian universe-at-war: www.affuniverse.com

The reformed Antarean empires rag-tag eet of obsolete and defected ships are slowly being replaced by more modern, lethal vessels wroughtfrom the fresh victories of the emperors inial campaign. Pictured here is the tanic planetary ring yard at Lasford, one of the primary objecvesof the recent ferocious Antarean push, and a sore loss for the United League of Planets. Deeply entwined in the labyrinthine structure lies theAISNs newest and most formidable cra, the Morningstar-class balecruiser. More agile than a baleship but with the repower to match adreadnaught, the Morningstar is to be the Emperors paramount ship class and personal command in the forthcoming Second Oensive, replacinghis previous personal command, the sll-worthy but aging Dawnstar-class cruiser.

Th Ad t f th Sk Pi t Ch t 13 Al ft! b J h C k Pg 22
http://www.affuniverse.com/http://www.affuniverse.com/


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The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 13, Aloft! by Johne Cook Pg. 22


Recap of Season One:

In season one of The Adventures of the SkyPirate , we were introduced to Cooper Flynn,an orphan of 15, who lived on the backwaterisland of Patience Bay, a place known only fortwo things: its abbey, and its complete lackof adventure. The death of his only friend atthe hands of the mysterious Qantiin assassinsspurred him to accept the gift of a small sailingcraft from Tuy Meklanek, a friend of Coopers

father. He also gave him a strange parchmentthat contained not one, but two things, eitherof which would be worth a kings ransom:

the formula for levitation over water, and theQueens Writ, a document of immense value.

Cooper Flynn escaped the assassins and ranaway from a Sylvan warship and into thearms of the Friar of Briar Island, an infamous

privateer. The Friar was more than he appearedto be, and Flynn learned that he was the patronand protector of the dispossessed people fromall over the region. Flynn came to terms withthe Friar and became a trusted confidante andan up-and-coming commander, respected and

loved by all.

Flynn followed a suspected spy to the HaddironNaval Academy and undertook what can onlybe described as a notorious career. He met theimmense young cadet, Pitt, from the Reach, andhelped him gain entrance to the Academy, andused that assistance to scam his own entranceto that fabled institution. He proceeded tomake an immediate, indelible mark at the

Academy, making powerful friends and impla-

cable enemies with his unorthodox style andbold decision-making. His every move was

followed by a mysterious watcher of unknowncapabilities and motivations. He met fieryClarissa MkDougal, a young woman for whomhe didnt have time to determine his feelings.He appeared to meet his match when the spyhe followed turned the tables and convincedhis best friend, Pitt, that Flynn was a double-agent with plans to kill someone dear to Pitt.In a moment of well-intentioned rage, Pitt was

provoked to drop Cooper Flynn off a tall cliffinto boulder-strewn waters far below.

In the year that followed, his friend, Pitt,grappled with his conscience and the revela-tion of new facts, coming to believe that hehad been tricked. While wrestling with eventsthat were over his head, Pitt found love withDeena Prentiss, a woman training to be a

physician, who also happened to be the com-modores daughter, a secret she didnt sharewith anyone. When the pirate Lngrae broughta small armada to attack the academy whenher warships were away on exercises, Pitt wentto sea to stop the pirates, only to see his old

friend, Cooper Flynn, appear out of the fogaboard a small sloop, no worse for the wear.Flynn led the pirate man o war into shallowwaters and watched her run aground, turningthe tide of the battle and defeating the pirateand his superior forces almost single-handedly.However, at the awards ceremony wherehe was honored by the commodore, Flynnsskeletons were revealed by Walenda Darden,the spy hed been sent to follow, and Flynnwas expelled from the academy. That moment

was the best and the worst moment of hisyoung life, and it scarred him for the rest of

his days. As a parting gesture, Flynn spoke tothe commodore, and Darden was reassignedto a permanent post on the all-male island ofPatience Bay, to the abbey where he himselfhad felt a prisoner. It was a masterful strokethat satisfied his mission for the Friar, butwhich didnt save his own career.

While Mr. Pitt celebrated his marriage to DeenaPrentiss and his fourth year at the academy,Cooper Flynn used his Queens Writ and his

force of personality to work with the brilliant

young inventor, Chain, to develop the anti-gravity technology that would change theirworld. Flynn also engineered the retrofittingof a sailing ship using their new technologywithout spending a dime of his own money,

provoking the interest of a Haddiron auditor.Flynn started to assemble his crew, and then,on the eve of taking possession of his new ship,

forces outside his control forced him to moveup his schedule, and he appealed to his friend,Pitt, to come and serve with him. The decisioncame at a steep price. In order to be true to his

word of lifelong fealty, Pitt would have to walkaway from both graduation from the academyand his marriage to Deena in order to servewith his friend.

Arriving back at the dock where his new crewassembled, Flynn and Pitt discovered thatthe ship they had been waiting for had beenremoved by the auditor, Welston Dananstrogh.In the moment of their despair, the newly

formed crew vowed to retrieve her.

The Adventures of the Sky PirateChapter 13, Aloft!

by Johne Cook

The Adventures of the Sky Pirate Chapter 13 Aloft! by Johne Cook Pg 23


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It was a moonlit night, and magic was in theair, whispered Eggplant nervously as hecrouched behind the barrels with the others.

Ssh, said Bola, trying to look aroundunder the canvas awning that stretched overthem on the dock.

He speaks in the third person when heis nervous, explained Eggplant of himself,helpfully.

Hes going to get his tongue pinned to thedock if he keeps making noise, isnt that right,Coop, murmured Bola, drawing a wicked bigknife to demonstrate her point.

Its not Coop, its Captain Flynn, saidFirst Seaman Karver Humble, who was alreadytaken with his new title.

This will be a short trip to a dark cell if youdont put that shiny blade away, whisperedChain calmly, who had no use for titles, himself.He knelt in from of what appeared to be aleather backpack, working entirely by feel inthe shadows on the docks.

Mr. Pitt said nothing, as usual. A Reacher bybirth, he was a full head taller than Bola, whowas herself something of an Amazon. Mr. Pitt,broad of chest and wide of shoulders, was themost legitimate person of the crew, walkingaway from the Haddirron Naval Academysgraduation ceremony to join Flynn. He wascontent to remain passive and relaxed while hecrouched next to the object of the discussion.

Cooper Flynn was a trim, powerful youngman. His black hair pulled back and tied,completely out of fashion with the wigs ofHer Majestys Navy. As newly elected captain

of their little venture, Cooper Flynn couldntcare less about titles as long as he got whathed come here for, the ship retrofitted to hisspecifications by the Navy itself without directknowledge of the project, the ship stolen outfrom under him by Welston Dananstrogh, HerMajestys Auditor. They knew the Navy couldnt

have taken the ship very far, and here she was,waiting for reinforcements.

It was now or never, and Flynn didnt liketo lose.

You have the sword? asked Chain.

Flynn patted his sheath. Right here. Yousure this thing works?

Chain shrugged. Its from Menorra. Itcosts more than my entire shop, or would, if I dactually bought it. It betterwork.

Wheres this flappin ship, hissed Bola,turning around to grouse to the little band. Itwas clear that the dock where they expectedto find the tethered shape of the HMS Majestewas vacant, and yet the distant sound of fiddlemusic teased the small band. Ive been waitingsix months for this. Im here to pinch a ship,and I dont see my payday.

Patience, Bola. Youll get your payday.Youve waited six months, just wait one moreminute, murmured the captain as he facedher. To answer your question, in this case, itsto your starboard.

Whats starboard, she said, spinning inplace, looking around for the ship.

Flynn touched her right shoulder. Starboardis to your right. And it looks like Eggplant was

rightmagic is in the air. And then he pointedto the ship. Not out, but up.

As one, they leaned out under the tarpand looked up. Eggplant started a low whistle,which was abruptly silenced by Pitts gentlyfirm hand over his mouth, but it summed up

the moment. They all followed the tether ropeto see the ship silhouetted up there against themoonlit sky, floating one hundred feet in theair above the quiet port of Bitten Bay.

#

It is a magical night, said Officer of theWatch James Thackery on board the HMSMajeste. And while it is true this sensation ofmagic is often taken metaphorically, this wasone night it might be forgiven for taking thethought literally, he said, walking about thedeck with his hands clasped behind him. Justthink, I am conducting these observationsfrom the deck of the pride of Her Majestysfleet, which just happens to be floating onehundred feet above the very surface of theocean instead of bobbling gently in it.

He stopped and took in a deep breath ofclear air. The view from this altitude is spec-tacular, and the lilting sounds of a particularly

rambunctious fiddle from below decks serveonly to lift ones mood, what, Gillings?

It is a very fine evening, agreed EnsignMui Gillings.

Thackery looked over at the ensign. Is thatall? Thackery looked back out at the world,but he was clearly listening for what Gillingswould say next.



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Gillings tried to put what he was feelinginto words. I still cannot get over how this hasall come together. Yesterday, I was a freshmanat the academy, and today I am here onboard atechnological miracle. Did you see that?

See what? said Thackery, twisting around

in confusion.It looked like a large, blackI guess it was

nothing.

Thackery nodded as if it couldnt have beenanything if he hadnt seen it himself. Im surethe technology has been developed for sometime, but Her Majesty was holding it back for

just the right time in the fight against the upstartSylvans. In any event, whether the actualprocess was developed by good Haddirron

scientists or gleaned from lost Menorran tech-nology, it is clear they wanted a crack crewon her, and here we are! If developed by theMennorans, and they knew how their technol-ogy was being exploited, perhaps this will bethe event to finally rouse themselves from theirself-inflicted languor. One can logically imaginethem nodding their stoic heads and clappingtheir hands with glee. A sailing ship, rousedfrom the depths and set aloftthe albacorebecome albatross!

Albatross said Gillings, thinking. I wouldhave thought something of this magnitudewould have launched from Haddirron City.

Thackery waved that thought away with aflourish. Oh, Im sure Bitten Bay was chosenfor the real launch of the anti-grav vessel fora variety of reasons, not the least of which issimple security. Otherwise, this is the last placein the Empire where anyone would expect theship to be assembled and launched. Thackery

looked at Ensign Gillings for the first time thatwatch. It is, you will agree, a masterful stroke.He looked back out over the water again, avapid expression on his face.

As you say, Ven, said the good Ensign, buthis own expression was skeptical.

Officer Thackery sauntered off to port, andEnsign Gillings had the good sense to follow.Thackery laid his hand on the railing. Observethe solid craftsmanship of the railgood,sturdy wood, well treated, firm without beingostentatious. They walked aft. The lifeboatsare rigged for normal use in the seas in theircurrent orientation or, when inverted, serveas short-term flotation mechanisms. Whencharged, they can float in mid-air indepentantof the ship, but as the charge recedes, they

descend slowly, graciously lowering the craftto the oceans surface below. Genius.

Having overheard his superior beingshown those very features not an hour earlier,Gillings wasnt impressed with his knowledge.He looked over the edge and subsequentlywondered if a human being could survive aone-hundred-foot plunge into the surf below.He saw a conversational opening there. Ven, ifthere was an accident, would an officer survivea deliberate drop into the seas?

Officer Thackery stopped short mid-step ashe climbed to the stern. Because of a storm,say, or a gigantic bird?

Ensign Gillings blinked, but recoveredquickly enough. As you say, Ven, yes.

Well, pondered Thackery, Im not quitesure what a mans rank would have to do withit, but suspect that, while uncomfortable, it

would not prove fatal. Of course, he noted,quite correctly, I daresay an under-officersuch as yourself would fare better with less,hm, uniform to weigh him down. Still, if such aone were a quick thinkeras officers are wontto bethey would lose no time in sheddingtheir heavy overcoat and shoes. With any luck,

they wouldnt have to shed their trousers aswellthat would be difficult to live down,what?

Ensign Gillings waited until the good watchofficer started laughing before joining in. It wasawkward, never quite knowing which absurdlyhilarious thing would actually be acknowl-edged as such, wracked, all the while, withthe leaden feeling that there was more to thisentire situation than met the eye. It felt hastilycontrived by someone well above his pay grade

for reasons still too murky to understand.

#

He wondered what they would do ifanyone opposed them, mused Eggplant.

What are you, a scribe? hissed Bola.

Dont be silly, said Captain Flynn. Hesthe pilot. Then he looked back at Bola andgrinned. Its a good question, he said, nowserious. We have the skypacks to get there,and we each have the goodies given them byChain. Chain bobbed his head once, his small,round glasses catching the reflection of themoon. Were here for our ship, not bloodshed.Theyll be vexed if we reclaim this ship. Andthey wont stop until were all dead if we killeven one naval officer, no matter how junior.

Wont they pursue us? asked Humble.



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Flynn turned and looked him in the eye.They absolutely will, Mr. Humble. However,once she is under our control, she is the fastestthing in the sky and is capable of being helmedby a relatively small crew. She is perfect for ourpurposes. Let them try. Besides, he said, whoelse has one of these? He produced an aged

parchment bearing the distinctive arms of HerMajesty herself.

Whats that, grunted Bola.

The captain produced a Writ from theQueen Herself, giving one Cooper Flynn swayto fight the Sylvan armada in any way he sawfit, grinned Eggplant, who proved himself inthat moment to be weird but not dense.

Oh yeah? Whats a writ? blustered Bola,

who proved herself dense but not weird.The captain neatly refolded the ornate

paper and stowed it away inside his short jacket. Why, its nothing less than tacit per-mission to assume control of this vessel, hegrinned, which is exactly what I intend to do.Does everyone have their gloves? Everyonenodded assent with the exception of Eggplant,who didnt bother, being informed ahead oftime that he was taking a different path. Ok,this is our night, he said Lets take whats

ours, with alacrity.

Whats alcrety, whispered Humble.

Thats the name of the ship, you dullard,said Bola, loftily.

That nearly set the captain into a fit oflaughing. Eggplant?

Eggplant got a distant look on his face. It

means liveliness, zeal, agility.

With a great smile on his face, Flynn roseand tested his harness. My friends, he said,looking around at those assembled, it is time.Lets fly. With that, he nimbly ran forward andslapped his chest, rising off the ground as he

did. He gracefully hooked a tether line androse smoothly at an angle, following the ropeup into the darkness toward the unsuspectingship.

See, it works fine, observed Chain quietly.Now.

Bola hit her switch and rose off her feet,rising right into the tarp covering the dock.Hey, she hissed. Mines broken! Chainfastened her with an inscrutable look, but

Humble rose to the occasion. Ive got you, hewhispered. He grabbed her calf and towed herfoot-first to the rope, where he activated hisown skypack and the two of them went on up,Humble right-side-up and Bola upside-down.

Chain looked at Eggplant. You ready?

He was terrified beyond belief, repliedthe pilot gamely, but up to the task.

Ill take that as a yes, said Chain. Mr.Pitt? Together, they carefully walked forward,each taking firm hold of Eggplant under onearmpit with one arm and holding onto thetether with the other. Chain and Mr. Pitt rosein unison as if theyd assaulted floating shipsfrom flying backpacks every day of their adultlives.

#

Ensign Gillings had returned to the bow

and was pondering what the possible motiva-tions might be for duplicity from his command-ing officers. He looked over at Watch OfficerThackery standing with his hands behind hisback, his chin up, and a dreamy gleam in hiseye. Gillings imagined he was still, in all likeli -hood, considering the magic of the night.

Gillings was thus occupied when anengaging looking fellow in a captains hat and

jacket floated up over the edge of the rail anddropped nimbly to the deck.

Good evening, the fellow said brightly,I am Captain Cooper Flynn, here to assumecommand of my vessel. He executed a half-bowthat Gillings took to be ironic, but which frozeThackery just long enough to prevent him fromraising an alarm.

Gillings decided that anybody with thewherewithal to mount an attack on a floatingship was no one to be trifled with, but Thack-eryto his creditlet his hand stray to hissword.

A sword appeared in the captains righthand as if by magic.

Thackerys braveryor foolishnessrequired the point of the captains sword at

his throat before Thackery reconsidered hisdefensive inclinations.

All of this provided enough time for theremainder of the boarding party to land ondeck and assume control of the bow, althoughone came onboard holding aloft the heel ofa large, fiery woman. She was trailing a trulyimpressive blue streak of invective when thecaptain quickly diverted his sword tip, lightlystriking a button on her chest, at which time



26/39



she felt lightly to her feet on the deck withreflexes like a cat. Gaining her feet, she quicklyproduced a frankly frightening dagger with allthe flash of one well-trained to its use. Shelooked at Thackery and cocked her head as ifsizing him up for a meal.

Thackery sniffed and squared his shoulders.He opened his mouth to speak.

Thinking quickly, Ensign Gillings quietlycleared this throat. There was no telling whatthe watch officer would do, and Gillings didntintend to give him the opportunity to doanything brash.

Perhaps the captain has appropriatepapers, Gillings suggested quietly, thinkingthere was no way this was the case judging by

the wide variety of colors and styles worn bythe impromptu boarding party. Gillings wasnot prepared for the captains quick glance.He not only had good ears, he had admirablyquick ones, as well.

Yes, intoned Thackery imperiously, Ipresume you have papers to warrant thisunexpected visit.

Both men were shocked at the captainsanswer. Of course, said Flynn, and produced

his Queens Writ.Thackery stepped forward and examined it.

He was speechless. Then he composed himselfand said the shrewdest thing he would say allday. You will, of course, want to present thisto our first officer.

Captain Flynn smiled and mock-bowed. Ofcourse.

Gillings had no clue as to the importanceof the writ, but was beginning to have hisown doubts about a great many other things,including the efficacy of his black powder pistolhastily issued when he was pulled out of classand set aboard the ship in the twilight of theday. It smacked of last minute desperation, and

he was not as confident as he had been earlierin the evening.

And so it was that as Captain Flynnapproached, Ensign Miu Gillings steppedforward. Captain, allow me to present youthis firearm so you may have arms befittingyour office while onboard this special ship.

Captain Flynn stopped, sized Gillings upquickly, and accepted the firearm with a slygrin. Flynn bobbed his head in respect and

followed Thackery.

For his part, Gillings promised himself hewould make himself scarce before such time asthat weapon was ever discharged for the goodof everyone involved, but mostly for himself. Ifthe Navy didnt have his best interests at heart,he would.

#

Flynn thought that the officer in chargeof the deck was clearly barely capable to bein charge of his bowels, much less a ship likethis, although the young ensign would bearwatching. Flynn accepted the pistol he offered,but presented it to Bola as soon as he could.She seemed surprised but pleased at the gift.Flynn beckoned her to tilt her head, and hewhispered to her, Should you need to use thispistol, remember where it came from.

Flynn turned and addressed the crew withhim. Remember, he said in a warm, low voiceto those assembled on the deck, no killing. Iwant this ship in one piece, and I want thesesailors alive when they disembark.

Capn, about that? How do we de-louse

her, asked Humble.Not to be outdone, Bola hastened to add,

...and what do we do with the sailors?

Everyone looked back at her. The captaingrinned. Follow my lead, he said, and gesturedwith his sword for Thackery and Gillings to leadthe way. The bulk of the crew is not expectedto board unti l tomorrow, sorry, later today, butthere is a skeleton crew here tonight. Bola,youre in charge of collecting weapons. Chain,

you and Mr. Humble are with me. Mr. Pitt, youtake Eggplant and make a tour of the upperdeck. When you find the pilots wheel in themain deckhouse, you can leave him there andthen situate yourself at the top of the stairs.Im going to do something that will persuadethe current crew to come up the stairs. Whenthey do, please show them to the starboard.All set? Lets go.

They spread out as directed, Mr. Pitt andEggplant walking around the port side to the

aft and everyone else making their way to thesteps as directed. Once there, Captain Flynnstopped Thackery and Gillings. Heres whatwere going to dothe object here is to havea simple discussion with the ranking officeronboard. There may be a little excitement aswe explain the nature of our command onthis vessel tonight, but Ive left strict ordersthat nobody is to be intentionally injured.And then he grinned. One could be excused



27/39



for mistaking that as a feral expression. Mr.Thackery, please go below and present thisreport to your first lieutenant: Captain CooperFlynn is here to accept control of this vessel,and has, in his possession, a Queens Writ. Canyou do that?

Deck Officer Thackery nodded stiffly anddescended the steps. Ensign Gillings made tofollow him, but was stopped by a gentle touchon his arm. It might be better for your careerif you stayed up here. Here comes Mr. Pitt. Youcan stand behind him and monitor the, uh,transfer of power.

#

Ensign Gillings saluted and did as he wasbidden, curious as to the gentle concern in thecaptains demeanor. He found himself trustingthis mans word even as he distrusted the moti-vations of his superiors. He then found himselfmarveling that saluting this captain seemedso natural compared to the effort required tosalute Officer Thackery.

And so it was that Ensign Gillings was con-sidering these mysteries when the first lieuten-ant and eight sailors came boiling up out of thehold of the ship.

First up out of the stairwell, the lieutenanthad his coat unbuttoned and was without hiswig. From the look on his face, it was clear thathe cared nothing at all for the legal intricaciesof the writ. Secure this deck, he bellowed,and ran straight at Captain Flynn, Chain, andHumble with sword raised.

Uh uh, said the young captain conversa-tionally. Flynn ducked under the first vicious

swing, stepped to the side, and tripped thefirst lieutenant, who stumbled and fell to thedeck. He rolled over and nearly hit his head onthe forward capstan situated squarely in themiddle of the topside foredeck.

Gillings saw the first crewman clear the

stairs as he reached the deck. He no soonerstepped on-deck when his arm was seizedfrom behind with a viselike grip, and he waspropelled to the edge of the deck and launchedover the starboard rail before he could evenset his feet. Gillings rushed over to the railing.He saw that the crewman just had time to gethis arms out in front of him, and then he wasdriven deep into the water facing the dock.

These guys were the genuine article.

#

Mr. Pitt turned back to the stairwell beforethe first crewman even hit the water. Heworked quickly: grab, propel, throw, repeat.From below, it must have looked like it wasraining sailors.

The first lieutenant rolled to his feet by thecapstan and came up snarling. He saw the greatshadowy figure of Mr. Pitt catapult a crewmanover the rail and charged, only to be met againby Captain Flynn.

Flynn met his sword with a solid stroketremendous sparks crackled as their bladesmet, blinding the officer. The first officerwithdrew his sword in shock.

Captain Flynn drew himself up and gave ajaunty mock salute. I am at your service, Ven,if you will comport yourself as a gentlemen.

However, if you insist on speaking as warriors,I remain at your service.

The two men stared at each other, Flynnwearing a lazy smile, the first lieutenantengulfed in a cold rage.

Bola had been cut off from the action at thefront of the ship and was practically dancingwith barely restrained desire to join the fray.Observing the stalemate, she stepped forwardand aimed the pistol at the commandersshoulder at point blank range. She pulled thetrigger.

The gun fired with a concussive boom buthad with no other observable effect. The firstlieutenant spun around at the sudden roar,and Bola met his sword slash with a hastily-

produced dagger. She stopped one slice, thenanother, before grunting with impatience.She flipped the pistol in air, stepped forward,smoothly grabbed the barrel of the gun mid-air,and smote the first lieutenant strongly on theside of the head with the butt of the uselessmusket pistol. The first lieutenant went downto one knee on the deck, dazed, and thenfound himself propelled toward the port sideof the ship.

Captain Flynn barked, Bola, no! but the

first lieutenant was launched overboard toport.

Bola turned and assumed a stance, herhead thrown back and her fists poised on herhips. Ha! she exulted.

Captain Flynn sprinted forward with sur-prising acceleration and launched himselfoverboard into the night, hard after thestunned and falling officer.



28/39



#

Flynn plummeted toward the dock, stretch-ing his right arm forward with all his might. Hecaught up to the falling first lieutenant andhis chest slammed into the back of the fallingman. Flynn reached around the officers chest

with his right arm while slapping the big circleon his own chest pack with his left. He got hisleft arm around and grasped the officers wristas the skypack kicked in.

It was a very near thing.

And so it was that the sailors who climbedthe ladder up onto the dock saw the stunnedfigure of their first lieutenant drift down in theembrace of Captain Cooper Flynn.

Flynn released the officer into their stunnedembrace, said Hello boys, take care of thisfor me, wont you, hit the ground lightly, andvaulted back up into the night air.

#

It was bedlam up onboard. Bola stoodher ground with arms crossed and the othersappeared to be grilling Chain about what wouldhappen if one were to, say, dive overboard inone of his anti-grav packs.

Theoretically, it should work, he wassaying, but we havent tested that. There areso many things we just didnt have time totry.

And then the captain dropped nimblyback down onto the deck for the second timethat night. Never fear, Chain, he said. Yourgadgets work as advertised. The weight of

two men was more than my skypack couldhandle to sustain positive buoyancy, but it wasenough to gradually halt our fall before we hitthe dock.

Dock? Bola.

Yes, said Captain Flynn, turning to meether gaze, suddenly wide with realization. Heclapped her on her right shoulder and winkedas he passed by.

Mr. Pitt caught Flynns eye as he approached.Flynn saw him look where Ensign Gillings stoodrooted in place and nodded his head once inacknowledgment. Flynn changed his path andwalked up to Gillings. Flynn stood in front ofGillings as the dawn began to break over theEnsigns shoulder. Whats your name, sailor?

Ensign Gillings, Ven.

Flynn nodded and looked him in the eye.Mr. Gillings, Im going aft to help cast off.Before I go, I want to tell you something. Ivewatched you ever since I came aboard. I likehow you handle yourself. Youre quick on yourfeet, you have a good heart, and you love thequeen, but not necessarily the grinding regu-lations that perforce extend from those whoserve in her Navy.

Flynn walked over to the railing and tookin the predawn spectacle of their position overthe ocean. Im going to give you a choice, hesaid. Youre a sharp young man. You know, asI do, that there is much going on here, morethan either of us has been told. You knowmore about this ship right now than many ofmy own crew. If you stick around, you will havea protected place

Documents

Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 26