Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 28

8/14/2019 Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 28

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August 15, 2007Issue 28


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Pg. 2

Ray Gun Revival magazine Issue 28, August 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: Workshipsby Alex Ruiz

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: 20070815c

2 Table of Contents3 Overlords Lair

5 The Walking Stickby Lawrence Buentello

9 No Revolution Is Too Bigby Mike Lynch

18 Featured Artist: Alex Ruiz21 The Adventures of the Sky Pirate

Chapter 14,Alacrity Under Way

by Johne Cook31 Memory Wipe, Chapter 14

Broken Menby Sean T. M. Stiennon

42 The RGR Time CapsuleAugust 1 - August 14, 2007
http://www.hatchbox.com/http://www.hatchbox.com/


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Welcome to Ray Gun Revival, Issue 28.Contrary to what you might have heard, I

have not been spending all my time vaporizingplanets. Some I merely reduced in size, so theirlocal solar systems can reclassify them. We allmust have our little pleasures, mustnt we?

Returning to America from across the pond wassorrowful; I fell in love with a beautiful landand had to leave it behind. So it was excitingto find this issues stories all ready for me. Niceto know Overlord Phy was busy during my

absence, wading through the slushpile to lookfor gems. I enjoyed reading them all.

Overlords Note: The Slushmasters slog throughthe slushpile; I just pick off the low-hanging fruit that remains from their labors. They dothe thankless gruntwork and I reap the glory.Its a system. ; )

Not to slight any of the other stories, but thisoffering ofThe Sky Pirate was especially exciting.It really takes to the air.

Authors Note: I didnt pay her to say that. Iblame jetlag.

No Revolution Is Too Big by Mike Lynch

Fiction collides with reality when a cynical alienoffers a failed writer the chance of a lifetime.

Matt grabbed the sliding door handle andpulled it open, leaving just enough room forhim to slip through. As his left foot steppedonto the deck, the yard suddenly wentdark.

Backing up against the glass, Mattinstinctively raised his bat. What in the

world is that? To his astonishment, he sawa strange looking object sitting in the middleof the yard. It was smooth, cylindrical inshape, but without any visible markings orwindows.

Then something like a door began to moveupward. A brilliant white light illuminateda figure standing in the newly createdopening. Matt gripped the bat just a littletighter.

The Walking Stickby Lawrence BuentelloWhat if the creation of artificial genius is tooperfectly achieved?

What about Solomon? Tomlinson said. Ijust spoke to Connelly at the labs yesterdayand he told me Solomon was doing fine.

Yes, I know, Martin said. Solomonsbeen revising the Oberon files. Draftingimprovements on the design.

So?Tomlinson had been reluctant to come toMartins office; now that Martin was nolonger considered the most brilliant mindin the corporation hed lost the abilityto easily capture the attention of seniormanagement. Even though hed been theprojects chief scientist; even though hedpractically given birth to Solomon

His improvements are whats disturbing

me.Arent you pleased that hes refining yourdesign? Tomlinson said. His expressionbetrayed his annoyance. Is it a matter ofpropriety? Surely he could only do wondersfor the program

No, Martin said. Im sure he could dowonders. Absolute wonders. Thats not theproblem.

Overlords Lair


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The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 14:Alacrity Under Wayby Johne Cook

The Sky Pirate takes offliterally.

Flynn and Mr. Pitt locked eyes. Suddenlygrim, Flynn said, If youd just lost your

technologically miraculous, one-of-a-kindair ship, what would be the first thing youddo?

Mr. Pitt shook his head slowly. Theresnothing fast enough in the fleet to catch it.Id probably try to shoot it down before itgot away in the first place.

And how would you do that?

Mr. Pitt said, Id start with a catapult and

flaming oil, if I had it. Otherwise, any readycannon would do.

Flynn tapped his index finger against histemple in grim agreement. He called overto the ships ensign, recently recruitedfrom the Haddirron Navy. Mr. Gillings, doyou spy any sign of cannon?

Gillings stepped briskly to the railing andgingerly peeked over the edge. There aretwo cannons further up the pier. Captain,theyre running toward them right now!

Memory Wipe, Chapter 14: Broken MenbySean T.M. Stiennon

Takeda and his companions meet old enemies.

Whats going on out here? Is there wateryet? a voice said from behind him.

Takeda knew that voice. Suddenly he feltcold in the oven-like heat of the chamber.His senses snapped into crystal clarity ashe turned. Every odor in the room crashedon his nostrils and he saw motes of dustswirling in the reddish light.

A man stood in a dark doorway across theroom. For a moment, Takeda wondered ifhe had misheardthis man wore a darkleather vest, white shirt, tight-fitting black

pants, all of them stained with grime,dust, and blood. Nothing like his polishedpolice uniform. But that pale, aristocraticface, framed by midnight-black hair, wasunmistakable.

Brian Vass recognized him a moment aftertheir eyes met. Croster... he hissed.

L. S. KingOverlord, RGR


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The Walking Sck by Lawrence Buentello Pg. 5


Dr. Raymond Martin stood by the terrariumcontaining the motionless insect, fascinated by

the creatures mimetic design. When he was achild in Texas, hed hunted through the brushand trees for alligator lizards, garter snakes,and walking stickshis love of science andnature were the only things in life that evermattered to him.

Its about Solomon, he said after amoment. Impulsively, he tapped the terrari-ums glass wall with an unsteady hand.

George Tomlinson straightened in his chair.

Tomlinson was Vice-President of TechnicalAffairs for the corporation, and had beenagainst the Oberon Project from its inception.But now, years later, the profitability of theproject was coming to a remarkable fruition,and Tomlinsons skepticism had been replacedby an exuberant optimism. Though Martinhoped that a vestige of that skepticism stillremained.

What about Solomon? Tomlinson said.He was a small man, with a finely contoured

beard and small, sharp eyes. I just spoke toConnelly at the labs yesterday and he told meSolomon was doing fine.

Yes, I know, Martin said. He tapped theglass again until the insect exposed its cam-ouflage by moving its antennae. Until thatmoment it had appeared to be just anotherdry twig among the rocks and leaves. Heremembered how difficult it was to find themin the woods. But the thought disturbed him,

so he turned away from the display and sat inthe chair behind his desk. Papers lay strewn

before him. Reports.

Solomons been revising the Oberon files.Drafting improvements on the design.

So?

Tomlinson had been reluctant to come toMartins office; now that Martin was no longerconsidered the most brilliant mind in the cor-poration hed lost the ability to easily capturethe attention of senior management. Eventhough hed been the projects chief scientist;even though hed practically given birth toSolomon

His improvements are whats disturbingme.

Arent you pleased that hes refiningyour design? Tomlinson said. His expressionbetrayed his annoyance. Is it a matter ofpropriety? Surely he could only do wondersfor the program

No, Martin said. Im sure he could dowonders. Absolute wonders. Thats not theproblem.

Problem? Tomlinson began stroking hisbeard nervously. What kind of problem couldthere possibly be?

Martin faltered. Hed rehearsed the conver-sation repeatedly, but now he couldnt forcethe words into the air. How would Tomlinson

react to his suggestion? Hed decided to usethe term project termination, which seemed a

little less personalbut, in the end, it was stillsynonymous with murder.

Do you know the basis for this project?Martin said at last.

I know the specifics of the grant,Tomlinson said. He wasnt a scientist, but hewas a very good administrator. The technicaldetails are beyond my training, but you alreadyknow that. As I understand it, the basis of thisproject is the belief that genetic manipulation

can greatly enhance human intelligence. Andthe greater an individuals intelligence thegreater human achievement becomes. Or amI mistaken?

No, youre quite right. Weve usedcomputer generated paradigms to achievethat end, of course.

Tomlinson sat up straight in his chair. Ray,whats this all about? I dont have time forgames.

Im sorry for the circuitous conversation,but its not easy admitting that you made amistake.

Mistake? What mistake?

The mistake I made in creating Solomon.

Tomlinson seemed not to know whether tosmile or frown. Instead he said, What in thehell are you talking about?

The Walking Stickby Lawrence Buentello


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The Walking Stick by Lawrence Buentello Pg. 6


Before you say anything else, Id like you tolisten to what I have to say.

Tomlinsons face relaxed into a neutralexpression. Explain, he said simply.

Martin inhaled deeply and leaned back in

his chair.

When I first conceived the Oberon project,he said, I had one goal in mind. And that wasto design a human being with enhanced neuro-logical processes that would increase his intel-ligence exponential ly. That was many years ago.I had to wait to actually begin the project untilthe moral question of genetic manipulationwas more socially acceptable. And many morebefore I found sufficient financial support. Evenafter the project was initiated I had to endure

countless court challenges to the legality of theprocedures. We didnt even know if the DNAparadigms we generated would prove success-ful for another ten years. Of course, they weremore than successful.

All that is ancient history, Tomlinson said.You must know that everyone appreciatesyour efforts.

Martin smiled gently. But I didnt appreci-ate my efforts. I didnt realize the evolution-

ary leap I was making. I didnt realize howadvanced the paradigms were until Solomonbegan working on our projects. Hes a genius.Hes more than a genius.

But wasnt that your intention? To design anew level of human intelligence?

Yes, but not to this extent.

What extent?

Martin leaned over the desk and spreadhis hands imploringly. Solomons brain is notlike yours or mine. Its a perfected structure, arefined structure, capable of abstract thoughtunhindered by the haphazard design of normalevolution. I removed the natural obstructionsfrom his brain, I refined his neural pathways sohis cognitive functions were unobstructed byprimitive barriers. And thats where I made themistake.

Whatmistake?

Martin, unable to silence his nerves,rose from his chair and turned away fromTomlinson. He walked back to the shelf holdingthe terrarium. The walking stick had changedpositions in the foliage and was now hidingbeneath a large gray leaf.

I knew I had to redesign the cerebral cortexin order to enhance Solomons intelligence. Theanimal experiments provided some impres-sive results, but the human brain is the mostcomplex organ on earth. In this kind of geneticgame I knew I would have only one chance tosucceed before the program would fail underthe stress of popular opinion. So I wanted tomake certain the computer design was perfect,and would succeed beyond anyones expec-tations. The design was perfect. And so wasSolomon. But I didnt realize what my successwould mean. I didnt understand what mighthappen if the thought processes were signifi-cantly freed in the human brain.

And what does it mean? Tomlinson said.Solomon has become the best scientist wehave. Hes advanced countless projects thatwould have taken years to advance with ourcurrent staff, and in five different disciplines.

And all in a year, Ray?

I know.

Solomon learns at an accelerated rate. Hesmastered physics, chemistry, and biology, heslearned enough engineering to advise the space

agency, and now hes learning as much aboutmedical science as any doctor who ever lived.Whats next? Biochemistry? Pharmaceuticals?Think of what he could do for medicine

No, Martin said, still studying the motion-less insect. Now hes focused on the Oberonproject itself. Ive seen some of the computergenerated mapping sequences hes devised,though I cant say I fully understand them. Theymust be ten times as complex as the designs Iused to create Solomon.

And that s a concern for you? Id think youdbe ecstatic that he was refining your work. Butyoure acting like its a crime.

No, not a crime. But dangerous.

How?

Martin turned to face the Vice-Presidentof Technical Affairs, ambivalent certainly,and more than a little frightened. What if hewas wrong? Could he have misinterpretedSolomons new schematics?

He said, George, how old is Solomon?

Eleven years next month, I believe. Are youconcerned about him because you think of himas a child? Is that what this is about?

No. And, believe me, I dont think of himas a child. What Ive observed of his habitsindicates something else entirely. He doesnt


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associate with other people aside from thestaff he works with. And he doesnt have muchto say to me anymore, either, and Im as closeto a parental figure as he knows. No, hes nota child, not in the way we think of children. Ithink its time we started considering him muchmore than a child.

All right, what should we consider him?

A mistake.

Tomlinson stood abruptly and straightenedhis coat. Ray, I think you need a vacation. Howcould you call your own project a mistake? Heshook his head and laughed uneasily. You ofall people should appreciate what Solomonhas done for this corporation. And what hellcontinue to do for us, and for humanity.

Hes not interested in humanity.

Tomlinson raised his hands in the air in mocksurrender. This is crazy. Im not sure whatsset you off on this delusion, but I suspect itprobably has something to do with Solomonsimprovement of your work. If you think Imgoing to remove him from any of the projectshes working on because youre jealous of hissuccess, then youre crazy.

Tomlinson turned toward the door.Martin hurried to the door and grasped

Tomlinsons arm. Tomlinson stared at Martinshand as if it were an apparition.

What do you think youre doing?

Please, listen to me for one more minute.Martin released Tomlinsons coat when he wascertain he had the other mans attention. Inmost cases of evolutionary biology the species

better suited to a particular environmenttends to dominate that environment overother species. Sometimes multiple organismscan co-exist in a given environment, but whenthat environment has limited resources thecompetition is usually decided by the betterequipped organism. Now, the reason humanbeings dominate the earth is irrefutablybecause of their intelligence. But Solomon isthe better suited species, George. And as thatyoung boy grows older I dont think hes goingto be content to co-exist with a lesser species.

You are crazy, Tomlinson said, thoughMartin could see something else in the manseyes, perhaps a grudging realization of thepossibility that he was correct.

I created Solomon without realizing how

effective the design was, Martin said. Halfmy work was simple good luck. But Solomondoesnt have to worry about luck. He knowsexactly what hes doing. And while he keepseveryone in the corporation happy with hismechanical designs, I believe hes really onlyconcerned with the Oberon project. I think hescome to understand who he is by now, whatheis, and I believe hes making provisions for thefuture.

What has he done? Tomlinson said. Whatcould possibly make you suspect him?

I studied some of his experimental models,and some of them had nothing to do withneurology. Hes produced a computer simula-tion of a new genetic design. I dont believe hemeant for me to see it, but I did. And within ithes matched physical maturation with mentalmaturation, which means that he intends toaccelerate the physical maturation of any new

children born with advanced mental capacities.Dont you see? In five years Solomon couldproduce a mature population of mentallyenhanced human beings. A population ofgeniuses.

Tomlinsons eyes betrayed his thought pro-

cessMartin could see the realization comeover the mans expression, but then fade intoa professional indifference that was undoubt-edly born from the profound profitability thatindifference could provide.

I dont know what made you think Idbelieve any of this, Tomlinson said. He reachedfor the doorknob without taking his eyes fromMartin. But I dont. For some reason you canthandle the fact that a boy is taking your projectto heights you cant even began to imagine, and

youre trying to turn the rest of us against him.Youre paranoid, Ray. And dont believe for aminute that I wont report this conversation.

Tomlinson opened the door.

You dont understand, Martin said. Wereidiots to Solomon. How could we possibly trustour well-being to someone who thinks of usthat way? Humanity has a limited social envi-ronment. How would we ever know for certainwhether his work would benefit us or destroy

us?

Stay away from the boy, Tomlinson saidbefore stepping through the doorway. I dontwant you upsetting him.

Dr. Ray Martin stood alone in his office.He wondered why hed bothered consultingTomlinson at all. But he needed one reassuringvoice to tell him that his reasoning was correct,his fears justifiable. Now he was certain he


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would be effectively removed from the project.And why not? He couldnt hope to produce assuccessful results as Solomon. He was alreadyuseless to the project. He should have killedthe boy himselfbut, really, what good wouldthat have done? They already knew how suc-cessful the design had proven to be; surely they

would only create another Solomon. Or severalmore Solomons. The financial incentives wereunquestionably lucrative. No, Pandoras Boxhad been opened, and Martin had forged thekey.

He walked back to the terrarium. Thewalking stick sat aligned on a twig, its antennaetwitching briefly. No, he thought, not right away.Solomon would first disguise himself withinhis environment to prevent the other speciesfrom destroying him. He would pretend to beconcerned with the welfare of humanity. Butonce he had sufficient numbers to supporthis cause, it would soon become a matter ofattrition.

He wondered, too, what he might do in thefew years he had left.

Lawrence Buentello

Lawrence Buentello lives in San Antonio,

Texas. When not writing or reading, he

works in the Reference department of

an academic library in San Antonio. Heis the co-author (along with his brother,

John Buentello) of the short story

collection Binary Tales, and the science

fiction novelReproduction Rights.


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No Revolution Is Too Big by Mike Lynch Pg. 9


Matt Rogers picked up his backpack and

hurried out the door. He thought thiswould be a class for some easy credits, buthe could not have been more wrong. His twofailing papers were a frustrating reminder ofthat fact.

Hey, Matt. Wait up.

He turned around and saw his classmate,Dan, running after him.

I was thinking about goin for a Coke, Dan

suggested. How bout you?

A faint sigh passed through his lips. Iguess so. Anything sounds better than doing are-write on my paper.

They went over to the Student Union andset their packs on an empty table. After he paidfor a soda, Matt sat down in his chair, dejected.He still couldnt get what the teacher had saidout of his head.

Whats the matter? Dan asked afterarriving with a tray full of food. Youve hardlysaid a word.

Im still thinking about what happened inclass today.

Dan reached over and slapped him on thearm. Hey, dont let it get you down. A coupleof bad grades wont make that much of a dif-ference. Besides, the midterm is coming up

next week. A solid score will bump up your

average.

Its not the grade so much, but whatBohn said. Matt retrieved his paper from hisbackpack and read the professors comments.It seems like you have something to say here,but it never really comes out. The reader is notconvinced that they are a part of the story. Ifyou wish to involve them, you have to makethe characters come alive and act in a way thatis natural, not forced. Your paper doesnt comeclose to meeting these standards.

Dan just nodded as he bit into hissandwich.

I always thought of myself as a buddingwriter, Matt added, but this has really set meback.

Dan glanced down at his watch. His eyeswidened. I gotta get going! My next class startsin five minutes. He grabbed his backpack anddarted out the door.

It was good talking to you too, Matt said,sarcasm dripping off each word.

After a few moments, he looked down athis paper sitting on the table. It stared back athim, red marks and all. He sighed again. It wasgoing to be a long night for them both.

#

Matt stared at the screen trying to find just

the right word. The cursor sat there, blinkingat him, as though mocking his latest roundof writers block. The longer he stared, themore his mind emptied. After re-reading thesame paragraph for the umpteenth time, Mattslumped down in his chair, frustrated.

Only one page written in two hours, hethought. Maybe a short break might do mesome good.

He got up and went into the kitchen.

Combing through the cabinets and refrigera-tor, nothing looked appealing. Just a bunch ofhealthy junk, he complained.

Dejected, Matt went back to the familyroom and skimmed through the TV Guide.There wasnt anything worth watching, but heturned on the television anyway. It was a goodexcuse to stop working on his paper.

As the shows came on one after the other,the dull glow emitted by the screen began

to lull him to sleep. Just as he was about todrift off for good, a brilliant white flash filledthe family room for an instant, followed by amuffled explosion.

Matt bolted up, awake. Every one of hissenses heightened as his heart raced in hischest. He looked around, but everythingseemed normal. Just to be on the safe side,he went to the sliding door to check the backyard. Pulling the drapes back with a jerk, Matt

No Revolution Is Too Bigby Mike Lynch


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could only see the half-finished barbeque pitnear the overgrown lawn.

It must have been lightning, he reasoned.Errant bolts were known to light up the nightsky from time to time when there were a fewclouds about.

As he closed the drapes again, a feeling ofheaviness descended on both shoulders. Hispaper was waiting for himunfinished. Andno amount of procrastinating was going todrive that fact from his mind. After a mutedgroan he sat himself back down in front of thecomputer.

Just as he placed his fingers on thekeyboard, his backyard began to glow. At first,the ambient light was barely perceptible. But

after a few seconds, the illumination grew inintensity, until it was blinding white.

Matt froze, unable to move or speak. Nearthe window, he saw a baseball bat leaning upagainst the wall. Summoning up all his strength,he managed to lift his arm and take hold of it.After drawing in a deep breath, Matt rose tohis feet and took a cautious step towards thedoor. Here goes nothing, he whispered, andthen yanked the curtains back like before.

Matt made a quick scan of the yard. Theintensity of the light, however, was such thathe could not make out anything recognizable.

Despite the alarm bells ringing in his head,he felt compelled to find out what was goingon. He grabbed the sliding door handle andpulled it open, leaving just enough room forhim to slip through. As his left foot steppedonto the deck, the yard suddenly went dark.

Backing up against the glass, Matt instinc-tively raised his bat. What in the world isthat? To his astonishment, he saw a strangelooking object sitting in the middle of the yard.It was smooth, cylindrical in shape, but withoutany visible markings or windows.

Then something like a door began to moveupward. A brilliant white light illuminated afigure standing in the newly created opening.Matt gripped the bat just a little tighter.

The figure, being, whoever it was, steppedonto the lawn. The person looked humanenough. He was dressed in silvery tight-fit-ting clothes, and appeared to be in his earlyforties.

You will not need that, the visitor said in

perfect English. In an instant, the bat in Mattshands disappeared.

What? he asked, confused. How did youdo that?

Im disappointed in you, the uninvitedguest said in a dispassionate tone. I thoughtyou would have been somewhat friendlier.I guess I should have expected that from ahuman.

Matt looked the person over. Who areyou? And what is that thing doing in my yard?And wheres my bat?

A look of bemusement blossomed on themans face. Oh, thats right. Your species isterribly inquisitive, especially when fear isthe dominant emotion. He pulled out a smallwhite card and handed it to him.

In big black letters it read:

Stelfson: Rescue Broker

No Revolution is Too Big

He looked up at the man standing beforehim. Is this some kind of joke?

No, Stelfson replied. Im actually here tooffer you a business proposition.

Matts eyes drew together into narrow slits.Business proposition. What are you talkingabout?

A backyard is not the place to discuss suchmatters. May we go inside?

Matt looked him over a second time.Stelfson seemed harmless enough. And if hehad miscalculated, the telephone was a whole

lot closer in the house than in the yard. Uh,yeah...I guess so. He spun around and pulledthe door all the way open. When they walkedinto the family room, Matt motioned for hisguest to sit down.

Stelfson just kept his spot, unmoving.Time is running short, he said in the samemonotone as before, and we need to departas soon as possible. But before we do, Im sureyou have a few questions for me.

Who are you? Matt asked without hesi-tation.

Like the card says, my name is Stelfson.I come from the Southern Quadrant of whatyou call the Milky Way. He stopped and gavethe family room a cursory glance. It is quite abit different than this place. I was hired to helpdefend a race against the Coalition of PlanetaryAlliances who are waging a war against


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Wait, Matt interrupted. You mean yourean alien from another world?

Of course I am, Stelfson replied in atone that suggested he was offended by thequestion.

How long have you known about us?He shook his head. I dont know exactly...

maybe several thousand years.

If you already knew about Earth, then whyhavent you made contact before?

Selfson sighed. It seemed like what littlepatience he had was wearing thin. Wediscussed that proposition a few hundred ofyour years ago, he replied, but it was rejected.Youre a typical class G-4 species.

Matts eyebrows drew together. ClassG-4?

Oh...panic, mass hysteria, and predicationsof doom. You know...the usual. Your society isfar too primitive to handle this sort of thing ina thoughtful manner.

If youre so advanced, then why do youneed the help of us primitive humans?

Stelfson went over to one of the book-shelves lining the wall and picked up a dish filledwith potpourri. He took a sniff and wrinkledhis nose. Put yourself in my place. When theother brokers find out about this, Ill becomethe laughing stock of the business.

Matt became indignant and let out asnort.

But Im afraid I have no choice, Stelfson

continued. He pulled out another card. Letssee...height, six feet. Weight, one hundredand seventy-five pounds. Two arms, two legs,one head, and a spoken language. You do notpossess telepathy, but you do fit the descrip-tion.

Description? Matt asked, his annoyancefinally beginning to spill over. What are youtalking about?

Ive been hired to do a job, and I need yourhelp to do it.

But why cant you do this job of yours. Youlook human enough.

The corners of Stelfsons lips turnedupward, forming something of a smile. My

appearance is not what you think. It is merelywhat you think you see. Two flashing lights onhis sleeve near the cuff caught his attention.It looks as though time has run out. We needto depart without delay.

But you still havent said where weregoing. He stopped himself. Wait, I cant goanywhere. I still have a paper to write.

Remember, I am offering you a businessproposition, Stelfson repeated. He looked

back down at his flashing sleeve. It is not usedas a currency where I come from, but we knowits something you humans greatly value.

The uncertainty Matt was feeling must haveregistered on his face.

Im talking about paying you. How doestwenty-five pounds of gold sound? There wasa flash of light, and then a block of what lookedlike pure gold appeared on the coffee table.

G-gold, Matt stammered. He bent downand touched it. It felt real enough.

A second flash of light caused the block todisappear.

Until now, Matt had no intention of going

anywhere with Stelfson. He figured the guywas probably an escapee from a mental ward.But how could a crazy person make gold appearand disappear at the drop of a hat? No. Whathe could do proved that he was from anotherworld, one willing to pay him handsomely forhis services. How long will we be gone?

The two of us will return before you knowit. He checked his sleeve a third time. It wasblinking even faster than before. But I musthave your answer now.

The image of that golden block interceptedevery contrary thought passing through hishead. It was just too tempting to resist. Allright, Im in.

Very good. Stelfson spun around andhurried out the back door.

Matt saw the side panel open up on theright side of the ship as it had done before. Heswallowed hard before stepping aboard.

The interior was brightly lit. There weretwo chairs towards the front, and a small rect-angular-shaped window. Below the windowwas a control panel of sorts. There were justthree buttons, all colored red, and a spheresuspended above them.

Stelfson went over to the control panelpressed the central button. The door to therear began to slide down, until it merged with


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the rest of the ship.

Matt took a step forward. How does thisthing work?

It is so simple, even you humans couldoperate it, Stelfson replied after taking the

chair on the right. The two outer buttons turnthe central star drive on and off, and the ball isthe directional guidance control.

Seems easy enough. Can I try?

I dont think so. Youre here to aid me, notdrive. Just hold on and keep quiet.

With a simple press of a button, the stardrive came to life. The interior light dimmedfor a moment, followed by a pulsating hum.When Stelfson pushed the ball up, the treesoutside the window fell out of sight. In theirplace, a darkened sky with thousands of starsappeared. Strangely, Matt didnt feel any senseof movement. It was as though the ship wasstill planted firmly on the ground.

How long until we reach wherever it iswere going?

In short order, Stelfson replied. Once Iopen the inter-dimensional gateway, well beon our way.

Whats an inter-dimensional gateway?

You dont have to concern yourself aboutthat. Its not worth going into things youcouldnt possibly understand.

Even though the dig was aimed right athim, Matt decided it was probably better to letit pass.

Stelfson reached down and pressed ablue button Matt had not noticed before. Asmall circular-shaped disk materialized out ofnowhere. He positioned the ocular device ateye level and peered through it as though hewas searching for something. Several momentslater, he seemed to find what he was looking

for. There you are. He made a slight courseadjustment. Well reach the gateway in lessthan a minute.

Whats going to happen now? Mattasked, nervous.

Stelfson ignored the question. You hadbetter hold on. The trip through the gatewaycan be a little bumpy.

Matt found himself clutching his seat tight.

Taking hold of the ball, Stelfson nudged itforward. The hum around them increased inintensity, as did the strength of the light fillingthe interior of the ship. Suddenly, everythingwent dark. Matt gripped the edge of his seateven tighter than before. He then noticed theship begin to shake. As the moments passed,the vibrations grew worse.

Stelfson just sat in his chair, stone-faced.His right hand moved the directional ball with

a delicate touch, as though he was moving theship past unseen objects. Matt never felt morehelpless in his life.

Though he didnt think it possible, theshaking became even more pronounced. Itappeared to Matt that even Stelfson lookednervous. He laughed in his mind. If his hostever got nervous about anything, he wouldnever admit it to him.

Without any warning, there was a muffledexplosion from the rear. The vibrationsdropped off at incremental levels, until it allbut ceased.

I just love going through the inter-dimen-sional gateway, Stelfson commented aloud.

You never know what to expect.

Nothing like a smooth, quiet ride, eh,Stelfson, Matt replied with a tinge of sarcasmin his voice. It was only then that he let go ofhis chair.

I think the best part was when we weretemporarily caught between the gravity wellsof two neutron stars. If I had kept the ship inthe field just a moment longer, we would havebeen crushed into interstellar dust. Is this a

great job or what?

Matt jumped to his feet. Crushed?! Areyou saying we were almost killed?

Stelfson pondered the question for amoment. Yes, I guess I am. What of it?

You didnt tell me anything about neutronstars or getting crushed. He began to paceback and forth. You make it sound like we areon some kind of Sunday afternoon drive.

How do you think I feel? Im forced to go toyour miserable little planet and find a humanto help me deal with a planetary uprising. Theleast little thing happens and you act like itsthe end of the world. Stelfson paused andlooked him over. Definitely a class G-4.

Matt knew he was getting nowhere. Ratherthan trying to reason with him, he just foldedhis arms together and sat back down in his


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chair, fuming. When he was calm enough tothink rationally again, Matt said, You stillhavent told me what this mission is about.

You humans are an inquisitive lot. I mustremember to figure out why one day. Hepushed the third button on the panel. Stelfson

then swiveled his chair around and faced Mattdirectly. Since I am not required to changeour trajectory for a while, I have locked theguidance control setting.

Matt tried to figure out Stelfsons angle.There were no derogatory remarks, no hintsof contempt. It was almost as if he was beingnice.

As I mentioned before, the planet Irepresent has rebelled against the Coalition.

The Helots are well aware of the services Iprovide, and so they hired me to resolve thismatter for them. They know I am someonewho gets results, quickly and efficiently.

Matts curiosity turned into annoyance.Then why do you need me?

Stelfson shook his head. I dont reallyneed you. Its rather what you are. My speciesis what you call a shape-shifter, though welike to think of ourselves as hybridsa strong

energy signature, but with a material base. Thisenables me to assume any form I choose. Theonly problem is that the Coalition has quite afile on me.

So youre a criminal, Matt declared.

The corners of Stelfsons lips pushedupward, forming a smile. Lets just say I willdo well to keep out of their way. They have myenergy pattern on record. The instant I step off

the ship, their scanners would pick me up forsure. He leaned towards Matt. This is whereyou come in. The Coalition has a central recordscomplex deep inside Asteroid Prime. All youneed do is get in and alter the planet Helot file.The result of this will make the planet quiteunattractive to the Coalition, I get paid...and

you go home.

Matt sat back in his chair and crossed hisarms a second time. Is that all? Well, whydidnt you say so? While Im there, is thereanything else I can do for you? Maybe fix aparking ticket or two. He let out a snort. Thisis a suicide mission. You cant seriously expectme to waltz in, change a security file, and thenwalk out again without anyone noticing.

A look of contempt crossed Stelfsons

face. To think I am actually using a human tocomplete a job I was hired to do, he said tohimself. If the other brokers find out aboutthis, Ill never hear the end of it.

A muted chime sounded three times.Stelfson spun around in his chair and unlockedthe guidance control system. The floatingsphere, which had disappeared when he setthe ship on automatic, reappeared again.Dont worry, he said while getting a fix on adistant object. Ill lead you every step of the

way.

Stelfson grabbed hold of the ball and set thecraft on an intercept course towards a rocky,potato-shaped asteroid. As they approached,Matt saw other ships in the vicinity. Some weremoving away from the asteroid, while otherswere coming in for a landing on one of severaldozen numbered pads. He was beginning toget a knot in his stomach. Are you sure this is

the only way?

Trust me, Stelfson replied, an undeni-able measure of confidence in his voice. Youshould be in and out before anyone knows youwere there.

We, Matt thought cynically. Seems like Imthe one taking all the chances.

Stelfson turned forward again and presseda blinking red light on the control panel. Thisis the Helot ship, Amek. Requesting permissionto land.

No response.

Matt felt beads of sweat form on hisforehead. He was certain the Coalition wasonto them.

Permission granted, a disembodied voicefinally responded. Proceed on your presentcourse. Landing pad three has been cleared foryour arrival.

Number three, Stelfson replied.

He maneuvered the ship over a vast numberof landing pads, until the one they had beenassigned came into view. Gripping the maneu-vering ball just a little tighter, he pulled it down

at a slow but steady rate, stopping when theycame into contact with the landing pad. AfterStelfson shut down the main drive, he got outof his chair and opened a panel near the rearof the cabin. There, a small, silver sphere wassuspended in the air. He grabbed the micro-sized orb and brought it over to Matt.

Fit this behind your left ear. It is kind of anaudio/visual transmitting device. It will enableus to keep in contact with each other. Stelfson


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looked Matt over. Jeans, tennis shoes, anda button-down shirt will not do. You need tomake yourself appear more like a Helot.

He extended his right hand. In an instant,Matts clothes changed into a silver-coloredbody suit, similar to Stelfsons. Thats much

better, he commented after taking a stepback.

Matt rose to his feet and looked himselfover. He wasnt sure if it was a little too form-fitting.

Moving over to the middle of the ship,Stelfson depressed a small plate on the floor.A square-shaped panel rose up and then slidhorizontally, creating a small opening. This iswhere you get off, he said. A ladder below

will take you into an access way. If you followmy instructions to the letter, we should be inand out before were detected.

Matt took a deep breath. Even though hewas starting to have second thoughts aboutthe whole thing, there wasnt much he coulddo about it now. For all he knew, Stelfson hadflown him to the other side of the galaxy. Heregoes nothing, he said before stepping into theopening.

Just remember you are a Helot. Try andkeep your human mannerisms to a minimum.

How am I supposed to do that? I donteven know what a Helot is.

Before Stelfson could reply, Matt jumpeddown into the corridor. Several shadowyfigures moved past. Some of them did indeedlook human, while others were quite different,reminiscent of the cantina scene in Star Wars.

Can you hear me? Stelfson asked in hisearpiece.

Loud and clear, Matt whispered.

Good. Turn right and go down the corridorabout thirty paces. There, you will reach the

horizontal movers.Matt peered down the hallway. Horizontal

movers? What are those?

No need to explain, Stelfson replied. Thatsame tone of contempt had crept back into hisvoice. You will know what they are when youreach them.

Cool stiff breezes blew on Matt fromdifferent directions as he made his way downthe corridor. At five-foot intervals, a lightfixture suspended above brought a certainlevel of illumination into what was otherwisea darkened tunnel.

Without any warning, the floor underneathhis feet began moving. What in the world?Caught off guard by the action, it was all hecould do to keep himself from toppling over.

I told you, Stelfson said in Matts ear.You would know what the horizontal moversare when you reached them. He paused for a

moment. Now, you are going to pass a numberof doors on your right. When you arrive at thedesired one, I will tell you to get off.

Matt didnt reply. He figured it was bestif he didnt say too much, act too human asStelfson had chided him. Instead, he just bidedhis time, thankful for a quiet respite in themiddle of an unsettling situation.

You are getting close. When the next door

on your r ight goes by, step off the mover.

A light fixture above revealed not adoorway, but a corridor coming up on him fast.That must be it, he thought quickly, and thenhopped onto the stationary walkway.

He was about to make his way down thenarrow passageway, when a shadowy creaturestepped into the light. Whatever it was musthave been seven feet in height, and weighedseveral hundred pounds. He raised one of hisarms on his side and prevented Matt from goingpast. What is your business in this area? thecreature asked in a low, guttural voice.

Matt had to think fast. Uh... His mindwent blank.

Tell him you are here to make an earlyinstallment of the money owed by the Helots,Stelfson whispered in his ear.

Yeah, thats it, Matt said. The guard bentcloser, throwing a dark shadow over him. Uh,I mean they...umm, Im here to make an earlyinstallment of money owed by the uh...theuh...Helots.

The guard grunted, and then moved aside.The opening he created was just big enoughfor Matt to slip through. As he hurried downthe hallway, he shot a quick glance over hisshoulder. Man, that was close, Matt exhaled.I thought I was dead for sure.

Go straight for the door in front of you.That is the records room.

When he had gotten within a few feet ofthe door, it slid open on its own. Inside, thescene could not have been more different than


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the corridor. Bathed in luminous white light,he saw an immense room filled with hundredsof people moving about in different directions.There were multiple floors, each one filled withthousands of what appeared to be computerterminal outlets.

Look for a unit that is not being used byanyone.

Matt made a slow turn so as not to drawattention to himself. Over by the wall, he sawdozens of people, some human, others not,placing some kind of polished metal disk intonarrow slots near the central display. Thoseare computer outlets, arent they?

Yes, Stelfson replied. Now get over toone. You dont have much time.

Matt stopped in mid-stride. What do youmean I dont have much time?

The moment you stepped into thecorridor, he replied in an emotionless tone,receptor grids started analyzing your DNAsignature. In short order, they will figure outyoure an outsider.

You mean theyll know who I am?

Not exactly, but close enough for our

purposes.

Matt did not try to argue. Every breath,every uttered word kept him from finishing his

job and getting out of there. Thats just great.He marched over to an unoccupied terminal.His proximity to the electronic device seemedto activate it.

Theres a disk in your pocket. Take it out

and slip it into the receptor. Matt patted hisbodysuit with both hands. In the upper chestarea, he felt a flattened, circular shape. Putit into the narrow slot below the screen. It willactivate the Coalitions planetary database.

Matt did as he was told. The screen, blue

at first, went dark, and then a listing appeared.Organized and categorized alphabetically, hescanned through the titles.

This is a breakdown of the differentchemical compounds found on the planet Helot.Youre going to insert one that is harmless tothe inhabitants, but lethal to members of theCoalition. This will no doubt change their mindsabout occupying the planet.

Matt had to admit, it was a clever idea.

Turn the blinking red knob to the right.This will enter the new information. Once thishappens, a blue button will start flashing. Presson it twice. When the disk pops out, get backto the ship.

Piece of cake, Matt said. And just like that,the blue button next to the red one started toblink off and on at regular intervals. This crazy

plan just might work, he thought.

Suddenly, alarms began ringing all aroundhim. It was a high-low din that rattled Mattdown to the bones. Whats going on? heasked after looking around.

They know youre here. Finish inputtingthe data. It will take them a few minutes totriangulate your precise location.

Matt didnt have to be asked twice. He

pressed down on the blue button both times.When the disk popped out, he slipped it into hispocket, and then beat a hasty retreat towardsthe exit.

When his eyes adjusted to the darkenedcorridor, Matt saw the same creature was still

there, blocking his way. What do I do? heasked.

My instruments tell me additional guardsare moving in your direction. Your only chanceis to grab his weapon.

This is going to get me killed.

Nevertheless, you dont have any otherchoice.

The alarms continued blaring in Mattsears. There was no time to lose. He drew in adeep breath and then tiptoed his way towardsthe guard. What looked like a weapon wasnestled into a holster at his side. The problemwas that one of his hands rested against it,ready to be pulled out in a moments notice.An idea popped into his head. Matt reachedup as far as he could go and tapped the guardon the shoulder. Startled, the creature spunaround. Matt dropped down low and grabbedhis weapon. When the guard realized what had

happened, it was too late. He was staring downthe business end of his own sidearm.

How do I use this thing? he asked.

The same way you use your weapons onEarthjust pull the trigger.

Matts finger found the curved piece ofmetal and grasped it tight. There was a sudden


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flash of light, and then the guard lying on theground, unconscious. He wanted to bask in hismoment of triumph, but there was no time. Inthe distance, he heard voices shouting at oneanother, asking if they had spotted the intruderyet.

Matt peered around the corner. Set in themiddle of the horizontal mover, he saw threemore guards coming up on him fast.

There he is, one of them shouted.

Matt buried his chin into his chest and toreoff in the opposite direction. High intensitypackets of light flew by, detonating all aroundhim.

Hurry up and get out of there, Stelfson

chided. Ive got the ship ready to go.Im trying, Matt replied between each

breath, but theyre hot on my heels.

Up ahead, he saw a shaft of light comingfrom the ceiling above. Just a few more feet,and he would be out of there.

Suddenly, several other guards appeared atthe opposite end of the corridor.

When they pulled out their guns, Matt

dropped down to the ground and fired a coupleof shots. Stelfson! Get down here and helpme. Ive got aliens coming at me from every-where.

What do you propose I do? I have noweapons with which to fight.

A couple of shots flew past Matts head,missing him by inches. Youd better thinkof something fast. I cant last out here much

longer. Then a horrible thought popped intohis head. Now that the job was done, therewas nothing stopping Stelfson from leavinghim behind.

Matt fired two more shots. The guardseasily dodged the blasts and fired in return. If

he didnt figure out something soon, he wasgoing to remain on Asteroid Prime for a verylong time.

In the blink of an eye a dozen peopleappeared, forming a circle around Matt. Eachof them spun around and fired at the guards.They in turn ducked for cover, the sounds oftheir frantic voices asking for reinforcementsfilling the corridor.

Matt recognized his opportunity and

scurried up the stairs. When he closed the panelin the floor, Stelfson grabbed the maneuveringball and pushed it straight up. The asteroidbeneath them quickly fell away out of sight.

I thought that rather exciting, Stelfsonsaid in his usual calm.

How in the world did you do that backthere? Matt asked between each windedbreath.

Do what? A look of recognition crossedhis face. Oh, all those copies? Like I said whenwe first met, that which cannot be seen canalso be seen. I just made it appear to you andthose guards down there that you had a littlehelpthats all.

Matt just shook his head and smiled. Well,thanks anyway.

Stelfson kept his attention forward. I must

say, though, for a human, you did all right.

Matt accepted the compliment with a nod.It was enough for him to know that humanitysplace in the galaxy was at least seen in a littlebetter light.

#

The sounds of the television blaring into theliving room roused Matt from a deep sleep. Ashis eyes focused on the screen, he sat up andrealized where he was. My house? he askedhimself. Only seconds before, he had been onStelfsons ship, heading back to Earth.

Confused, Matt went over to the slidingdoor and looked outside. Everything appearednormal enough. He checked the time.

11:57

Ive only been asleep for half an hour?He checked the patio again. Nothing. Could ithave been a dream?

A deep yawn came out of him. It was lateand he was tired. Rather than try and figure itout, he thought it best to get a few hours ofsleep and solve the mystery in the morning.

Matt trudged up the stairs and rolled ontohis bed, not even bothering to get out of hisclothes. Within minutes, he was asleep.

As the sun crested the distant hills, earlymorning light reached into Matts room andgave him a gentle nudge. He opened his eyes,unsure which day it was. Then it hit him. Thiswas Wednesday. He hadnt finished his paperyet. Matt closed his eyes again, disappointed.That paper was worth thirty percent of his total


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grade, and he was no closer to finishing it thanlast night.

Rather than wallow in a pool of self-in-crimination, Matt got up. He figured he mighthave enough time to salvage something of hispaper.

As he hurried over to his desk, somethingcaught his eye. Matt stopped and took a closerlook at the object sitting in the middle of thefloor. It was cube-shaped, shiny, and with agolden hue. Wait a minute, Matt gasped. Hetook a step closer towards it. Gold. Its thegold Stelfson promised me. It wasnt a dream.Last night really happened.

He then noticed something else. Somepapers were sitting next to the block. I dont

remember leaving those there, Matt thought,perplexed.

He picked them up and looked at the coverpage. No Revolution is Too Big.

The title sounded familiar. Rememberingthe card Stelfson had given him, he reachedinto his pocket and pulled it out. The monikerwas the same. For some reason, he feltcompelled to look at the other side. There,a hand-written note appeared. Something

I neglected to mention is that I can also readpeoples thoughtshumans being the easiest.I hope my story is up to the standards youhumans demand in writing classesStelfson.

Matt shook his head and smiled. Well, Illbe. Perhaps we humans arent so bad afterall.

He flipped the cover page over and beganto read. The Helots were in trouble and there

was only one person to turn to...

Mike Lynch

Mike currently resides in San Jose,

California with his wife, Kathleen, and

two children. He graduated from San

Jose State University in 1986 with a B.A.

in History, and from San Jose Christian

College with a B.A. in Bible and Theology

in 1994. In 2004 Mike wrote BibleQuest,

a study guide that helps people better

understand the Bible. Mike has also

written a book chronicling the history of

Dublin, CA. Published by Arcadia Press,

it was released in July 2007. And inFebruary 2008, Mikes first novel, When

the Sky Fell , is scheduled to be released

by Silver Leaf Books. In a conscious

effort to help hone his skills as a writer,

Mike has also attended several Christian

writers conferences since 2005.


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Featured Arst: Alex Ruiz Pg. 18


Name:Alex Ruiz

Age:31

Hobbies:Shredding on the Wacom tablet, and shredding on guitar!

Favorite Arst:Andrew Jones, Sparth, Stephan Marniere

When did you start creang art?

In the walls of my mothers womb.What media do you work in?Usually sketch on paper, then scan it in, and the rest is Photoshop.

Where your work has been featured?Imagine FXmagazine, CG Society Choice Gallery

Where should someone go if they wanted to view / buy some of yourworks?alexruizart.com (which has links to prints/other galleries)

What were your early inuences?Disney animaon was the rst thing that truly lit the re of creavity in

me. I remember seeingAladdin and realizing, I have to be an animator!

What are your current inuences?Now, Im happy just doing illustraon, so Im more inuenced to create one piece of art to convey a theme instead of hundreds

as in animaon.

What inspired the art for the cover?Workships was inspired by the basic idea of work factories, and how they produce and pollute at the same me. I just took

that concept and applied it to the future, where factories have become airborne.

Featured ArstAlex Ruiz
http://alexruizart.com/http://alexruizart.com/


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How would you describe your work?Sci-/fantasy with a touch of abstracon.

Where do you get your inspiraon / what inspires you? To me, nature is the most inspiring thing around. Once

you think youve designed something yourself, boom...you see it in nature to some degree or another.

Have you had any notable failures, and how has failure aected yourwork?At the me, not geng into the art college of my dreams was a huge

failure! But in retrospect, it probably was the best thing that couldve

happened. It led me down another road, which turned out to be quitethe fortunate shortcut, but also forced me to teach myself art.

What have been your greatest successes? How has success impacted

you / your work?Ive been an arst for The Simpsons for over twelve years now, working

as an animator and illustrator on the show, movie, and product line. Im

very proud to be a part of that show, and grateful, for it has paid my rent

for such an enormous amount of me!

d l


20/42



What are your favorite tools / equipment for producing your art?Paper+Mac+Photoshop= happiness :)

What tool / equipment do you wish you had?I really want one of those electric blanket mobiles...that, or hamburger earmus!

What do you hope to accomplish with your art?If people are inspired by my work, then my work is done!

P


21/42

Pg. 21


The story so far:

Captain Cooper Flynn has put together a smallrag-tag crew and has managed to retake hisexperimental anti-gravity sailing ship during adaring overnight raid. They were very carefulnot to kill anyone.

The dispossessed officers and sailors on the pier below arent so limited.

Mr. Humble said, That was a neat bit ofwork. Now that the ship is free of the pierropes, how long do you think it will take us tomake way?

Captain Flynn wiped his brow from hisexertions in the light of the new dawn. Theresso much to go over with a new crew. We needto discuss all the things that need to be coveredbefore we even getto the sails. It might take allmorning.

There was a flurry of small arms fire fromthe pier below, the balls thudding off the hull

of the ship like rain on a window, furious butimpotent. The echo of the reports was mutedby the time the sound reached them.

Flynn and Mr. Pitt locked eyes. Suddenlygrim, Flynn said, If youd just lost your tech-nologically miraculous, one-of-a-kind air ship,what would be the first thing youd do?

Mr. Pitt shook his head slowly. Theresnothing fast enough in the fleet to catch it.

Id probably try to shoot it down before it gotaway in the first place.

And how would you do that?

Mr. Pitt said, Id start with a catapult andflaming oil, if I had it. Otherwise, any readycannon would do.

Flynn tapped his index finger against histemple in grim agreement. He called over tothe ships ensign, recently recruited from theHaddirron Navy. Mr. Gillings, do you spy anysign of cannon?

Gillings stepped briskly to the railing andgingerly peeked over the edge. There are twocannons further up the pier. Captain, theyrerunning toward them right now!

Flynn said, Oh, cliff. We dont have all dayto get under waywe may not have more thana few minutes!

#

The captain went below to meet with Chain.He clattered down the stairs and worked his wayaft down to Chains workshop in the bowels ofthe ship. Chain, are we in any danger here?

Chain looked up from his workbench, thelamplight reflecting off his round spectacles.Danger of what?

They both felt more than heard the distantconcussivepoom poom of the pier cannons.

Flynn said, Cannons. The dispossessedsailors have had the same thought we had. If

they cant keep this ship, they intend to knockher out of the sky.

Chain thought it out. Oh. Well, it doesntaffect anything crucial if they just punch holesin the side of the ship. However, the voltaicelements take up the entire layer between thelowest deck and the hull. We have a double-layered hull, but if they puncture it, it could bea long drop and a short trip.

Flynn paled at the thought, sketched asalute, and worked his way back toward thestairs.

Mr. Pitt was looking over the railing withMr. Humble when Flynn burst back up on deck.Flynn looked at Mr. Pitt and said, Get Bolaand come with me. He checked his sword andstarted strapping on a skypack. We have to dosomething about those cannons.

The three of them gathered at the rail afterthey had donned their skypacks. Mr. Humblechecked all their straps and nodded to Flynn.

The captain said, Listen upwe only havetime to do this once. Were going to dropoverboard as close as we can to the pier andengage the skypacks halfway down to thepier. Be prepared for the strainthe packswill fight against inertia, against gravity itself.When youre close enough, cut the power anddrop to the water or the pier. You can engagethe sailors, but dont kill anyone. Thats vital.We have to get to those cannons and disable

The Adventures of the Sky PirateChapter 14,AlacrityUnder Way

by Johne Cook

Th Ad t f th Sk Pi t Ch t 14 Al it U d W b J h C k Pg 22


22/42

The Adventures of the Sky Pirate, Chapter 14, Alacrity Under Way by Johne Cook Pg. 22


them.

Mr. Pitt asked, How are we going to dothat?

Flynn said, I have no idea at the moment.Well have to innovate on the ground.

Bola said, Innovate?

Flynn looked at her. Well need to think ofsomething on the spur of the moment. Are weall ready? Flynn climbed up on the oppositeside of the quarterdeck and grabbed a rope.Follow me! he said, and swung out over therail, releasing his hold as he reached the highestarc of the swing. Waaaaahhhhooooooo! Hedisappeared from sight.

Mr. Pitt caught the rope and motioned to

Bola. She climbed the quarterdeck and grippedthe rope tightly. You ready?

Not really, she said.

Afraid of heights?

Bola glared at Mr. Pitt. Im not afraid ofanythingI just dont like falling.

Mr. Pitt grunted. Just prepare for the battlein your mind, he said. Think only of that. She

closed her eyes and brought up her knees. Sheswung over the deck and away from the ship.Now! Pitt yelled, and she released the rope.To her credit, she didnt make a sound as shedisappeared from view, her shoulder-lengthhair streaming out behind her like a shortcape. Pitt grabbed the rope and the yardarmcreaked just a little. He made his swing andreleased the rope, falling rapidly toward thebattle waiting below.

#

Flynn was on the pier and had alreadyengaged three swordsmen when Bola and Mr.Pitt came up behind him. More sailors werestreaming out of the warehouse every moment,pushing Flynn back by the sheer press of bodies

as the pier filled with sailors eager to redeemtheir humiliating ouster from the ship.

Bola shouted, Are you sure I cant killanyone?

Kind of busy here, said Flynn, straining.

Bola sized up the situation. Mr. Pitt, howmany men do you think there are between usand those skiffy cannons? Thirty, you think?She looked around and saw a backless wood

bench with some blocks and tackle on it. Hangon, what do we have here? Mr. Pitt, couldyou give me a hand with this? She pickedthe bench up and flipped it so the top facedforward. She grabbed the left side and noddedher head toward the men crowding the pier, ascool as a cleric.

A flicker of understanding went over Mr.Pitts face and he grabbed the right side of thebench.

Flynn, hit the deck NOW! she roared.Flynn glanced at what was coming behind

him and dropped to one knee, bowing his headas he did. The bench cleared his head by mereinches and he heard a number of heavy thudsfollowed by surprised splashes. Flynn raisedhis head, stood, and saw what they were upto, mowing through the wall of sailors like aball through tenpins. He quickly sheathed hissword, and rushed forward to help.

Bolas bench was a battering ram clearingthe pier of tightly-packed sailors. Flynn nimblysprinted forward and put his shoulder into it.They pushed so hard and so fast that the surgeof sailors falling back on their heels and thenover the edge started a domino effect. All theyheard were sounds of thudding bodies against

the wood ram, curt exclamations, and heavysplashes on both sides of the narrow pier asthey cleared it.

In mere moments, they reached thecannons and dropped the bench over the sideinto the water. The cannon on the right pointedinto the air at the ship had a fuse eight inchesin length.

A lit fuse.

Flynn quickly drew his sword, sliced throughthe fuse, and threatened the sailor behind itwith his sword. Faced with the sword, that oneput up his hands and voluntarily dove into thewater with all his mates.

The other cannon, however, was going tobe trouble. The first lieutenant stood behind itwith drawn sword, and sighted in on the hullof the ship above. The officer locked eyes withFlynn. Without breaking his gaze, he started tomove his left hand with the glowing punk stick

toward the fuse.

Bola danced around, looking for an opening,but seeing nothing.

Mr. Pitt took a step back and watched Flynnintently, his hands at the ready like a wrestler.

Flynn watched the officers eyes as he litthe fuse, the acrid smoke of the burning fuserising up between them like the incense of war.

The Adventures of the Sky Pirate Chapter 14 Alacrity Under Way by Johne Cook Pg 23


23/42



Neither man said anything.

As the fuse burned, Flynn stepped back,sheathed his sword, and held his hands up awayfrom his body as if to say Im not armed.

The officer smiled in victory and brought

his sword to his face in mocking salute.As he was temporarily obstructed, Flynn

leapt forward and started pushing the barrel ofthe small cannon to the side toward the water,the iron wheels scraping on the wooden pier.Mr. Pitt leapt to his side and put his back into it,increasing the squealing noticeably, swingingthe cannon around to the right.

The officers face fell and he stampedforward with his sword, only to find himselfengaged by Bolas sword at the backside of thecannon.

Watch it, yelled Flynn, and stepped backfrom the cannon. Mr. Pitt released the barreland grabbed Bolas collar, yanking her suddenlybackward.

The cannon fired, and the cannon balldisappeared into the sky, narrowly missingthe stern of the ship hovering overhead. Thebucking cannon slammed backward into theofficer with savage results, knocking the swordout of his hand and throwing him backwardinto the water on the other side of the pier asif swatted by a giant hand. The cannon itselfrested crazily on the edge of the pier, onewheel over the edge.

Mr. Pitt watched the whole thing. Bolastood there with her sword out and her hair inher eyes. What happened? she said.

Flynn stepped to the edge of the pier andpointed at a sailor treading water. That officeris unconscious. If he drowns, it is on yourhead. When he was satisfied that the sailors inthe water were caring for the downed officer,Flynn turned to his crew. Slice the cannonsrestraining ropes and push those guns off the

pier.

Bola was getting very good at slicingthrough the heavy ropes, and Flynn and Pittpushed the cannons into the water. When thesecond cannon went over, they heard the cheerfrom above. Saluting his crew with a flamboy-ant gesture, Flynn turned to Bola and Mr. Pitt.Follow me, he said.

He sprinted down to the end of the pierand leapt into the air, activating his skypack.

He rose over the water and grabbed an out-stretched hook. They got Mr. Pitt in the sameway, but Bola came up closer to the ship thanthey had, and ended up climbing up the widerope ladder on the port side.

When she stuck her hand up over the sideand started reaching for a purchase, a hand aslarge as a small dinner plate grasped hers andeffortlessly pulled her up and onto the deck.

Flynn dropped his skypack on the deck and

clapped Bola and Mr. Pitt on the back to thun-derous cheers from the crew.

#

That was close, said Mr. Pitt.

Too close, said Flynn. Bola, you savedour stern with that battering ram idea. I cantthank you enough for your quick thinking.

I was good, wasnt I? she said. That wasfun.

I believe she means it, said Flynn quietlyto Mr. Pitt, earning an understated smile fromthe big Reacher. Mr. Humble, sound all handson deck if you please.

Captain Flynn called everybody togetheron the deck amidships. First, thank youeveryone for your part in this historic venture.As I mentioned when we were putting thiscrew together, we have tacit permissionfrom Her Majesty to appropriate this ship inher service in the form of the Queens Writ.Legally, we should be able to move aroundwith impunity.

Eggplant anticipated Bolas question.

That means, without being bothered by herMajestys ships, he whispered. Bola blinkedbut stared at the captain as if she hadnt heardhim, acting as if she understood precisely whathe was saying, fooling no one.

Our mission is simple, said Flynn. TheSylvans are expanding their borders and makingbolder forays against Haddirron shipping lanes.Formerly the most technologically backwardcountry of the big three nations, the Sylvansare developing new steam-powered technol-

ogy to do virtually everything. I dont knowwhom they have there developing all this newtechnology, but theyre quickly catching up toHaddirron and are making quiet overtures tothe Menorrans. Menorra is committed to theirlives of ease, and are not eager to admit thereis anything wrong with their way of life.

Bola leaned her head almost imperceptiblytoward Eggplant. Humble saw this and nudgedEggplant. Uh, the Menorrans are Utopians.



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They believe that everyone in their cultureshould live lives devoid of labor and struggle.They dont actually, uh, work. They dontbelieve in it.

She turned to him and snapped, I knowwhat it means not to work.

They also dont fight, said Eggplant. Theydont believe in that, either.

Bolas mouth literally dropped open inshock.

The captain grinned and continued. TheMenorrans have successfully rebuffed theSylvans so far, but the Steamers are gettingmore and more aggressive, and it wont belong before they turn to open hostilities againstthem to get their hands on Menorran technol-ogy. That would be a disaster.

The Menorrans have to do something todefend themselves, Bola blurted.

Flynn nodded. Theyll likely depend ontheir own automated technology for defenseor pay somebody else to do it for them. Helooked around at the small crew and smiled.And thats where we come in.

#

The captain took a drink of water from anearby pail. Okay, so thats the what andwhy. If youre at all like me, what youd reallylike to know next is the how; how is thiswooden sailing vessel weighing many tonshovering light as a feather one hundred feetabove the tranquil waters of Bitten Bay?

Ill be honestI only have a vague under-

standing of the science behind it. I receiveda formula as a gift passed down from myfather to the Abbot on Patience Bay, who wasmy guardian and kept those things safe andentrusted them to me when I fled there fromthe Qantiin at age fifteen. Boiled down, ourfriends out in the ocean discovered something

amazing, a colony of, that is, a collection...

Flynn stopped and gathered his thoughts.Okay, he admitted, here it is in blouse-sleeve languagetheres this goo that, whenimpregnated into the hull of a ship and excitedby the smallest dose of electricity from a largevoltaic layer, pushes the vessel into the air. Thepresence of water is vital somehowthe effectdoesnt hold true over land for reasons thatare beyond me. Now, before you ask, I dontknow for sure if it pushes against gravity or

pulls toward... something, but what I do knowis that a good battery can launch a ship like thisand elevate it between 100 and 250 feet for aslong as the trickle of energy remains. Rising is asimple matteractivate the electricity and yourise up out of the water. Increase the charge,and you elevate. Decrease the charge, and youdescend.

Humble asked Is that how the backpackswork?

Same principle, yes. The buttons on yourchest activate the battery. Right now there isonly on and off but Chain, here, thinks hecan develop a metering system that will allowa skypack wearer, an aviator, to be able tocontrol how high he can fly.

What is the current practical range forskypacks?

The captains eyes sparkled. Since the

weight restriction is so much different, wehavent been able to determine the upper limitof human-powered flight with the skypacks. Infact, these are the first that weve had time tomake.

Bola was unimpressed. If you can only

go straight up or down I dont see whats sospecial about the skypacks, she said.

Very good, said the captain. Youveput your finger squarely on the first majorissue drawback of air flotationhorizontalmovement. Take this ship, for example. Weredrifting slowly away from the pier. Anybodyhave any idea how were going to move theship now that were free from the moorings?

Oh, whapp, said Bola, distressed. I

thought youd know the answer to that one.A shocked silence descended on the group. Ifyou dont know, who does?

An excellent question, said the captain,and then he smiled. Mr. Gillings. Would youmind addressing this question?

All heads turned his way. He thought for amoment. The sails, he said. You can catchthe breezes and sail the skyways just as youwould sail the waterways, only fasterperhaps

much faster.They all looked up into the rigging at the

dressed yardarms and masts.

Flynn turned to the crew. There you haveit, said the captain, grinning. Lets see whatshe can do!

#



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The captain set up some ground rulesbefore they got started. As long as we havethem, everybody who goes up in the riggingshould wear a skypack just in case. Eggplant,you take the wheel. Everyone else with me.Well start fore, he said, pointing, and workour way aft. Questions?

They got right to work. The captain stoppedGillings on his way to the bow and said, Ifthey have any specific questions, Id like tohave the crew ask you. Ill be available in mycabin later if you want to compare notes, askquestions, make suggestions. You might havesome questions of your own for me. Flynnturned to go, had a thought, and turned back.Oh, one final thing. If youre going to be anauthority around here, you may as well havethe authority that goes with the responsibility.

As of right now, youre officially a lieutenant.Congratulations, Lieutenant Gillings! Withthat, Flynn clapped Gillings on the shoulderand went back to Eggplant in the deckhouseby the wheel.

Okay, said Flynn, lets go over the basicsabout handling this girl. Since were in the air,theres no rudder, per se, but there are massiveflaps that youll use to point us in the rightdirection. You operate them with this woodrod. Its mounted in a horizontal slot here andits pretty basicslide it left and the flaps willbring her around to port. Slide it right and wellgo to starboard. Go ahead and try it now.

Eggplant did this, noticing that the rodmoved easily enough.

If you need to lock it down, draw it towardyou into one of the notches. Youve alreadytried the wheelit changes the horizontal

aspect of a massive oiled gimbal, which rotatesthe axis of the ship. Wait until the sails are upand then well take everyone else below andlet you get a feel for what she can do. Oh! Onelast thingif you need to set her down forwhatever reason, its this slide here. Its basedon the same principle as the rudder, only

dealing with elevation. All the way down is sealevel, that first little notch is 100 feet, and thesecond is 250 feet.

But Captain, said Eggplant, there are somany more notches there.

So there are! said the captain with a wink.Eggplant wasnt sure what to do with that, sohe asked about the two controls left and rightof the elevation control.

Good question. The middle control is forglobal elevation, the entire ship as a unifiedascend or descend. The control on the left isfor bow-only and the control on the right isaft-only. That gives you some degree of controlover the pitch of a climb if you needed to getthe nose up or the tail up for whatever reason.I dont know how useful theyll be for you, buttheyre there if you need them.

The captain looked around him and tooka deep breath. I guess thats it for now. He

started to leave.

Captain?

Yes?

What about navigation aids? Charts andthe like?

Youll see that we have tables for spreadingcharts out on either side of the wheelbox

unless I miss my guess, well have charts forMenorran watersand thereby air spacetothe left and Sylvan airspace to the right. Behindyou on the wall, we have Haddirron charts, aswell as charts for the great expanse of oceanthat separates the three countries. There willbe other miscellaneous charts, as well, but Ill

let you find them on your own. We wont needthem anytime soon, but we may need themdown the line.

So, Captain? Where do you want to gotoday?

Captain Cooper Flynn strode to the doorand stopped. We need a few days to get usedto the new girl, get a feel for what she can do.In the meantime, hold your present course,Eggplant, and steady as she goes.

He sketched out an informal salute andleft Eggplant to the wheel. He fought againstreverting to the third person in his terror, saidEggplant standing alone in the wheelhouse.Then he started to gingerly try out the variouscontrols. If he made any changes, nobodynoticed.

#

Captain Flynn stepped out of the wheel-house and looked at their progress unfurlingthe sails. He snickered to himself, his blackeyes lively. Somehow, theyd roped Bola intohelping. Somehow, Bolad roped herself intothe rigging and was hanging upside downfifteen feet above the deck, dropping sharpimplements and invective onto the deck as shedangled there.

He greeted the crewmembers as he passed



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by. Mr. Pitt. Mr. Humble. Bola. He walkedto the bow where Gillings was rigging theforesails. We seem to have a problem with therigging back by the mainsail. Would you pleasehelp them figure it out? Gillings looked overthe captains shoulders and his eyes widened.Yes, Ven! On my way, Ven!

Oh, and Gillings?

Ven?

You can just say On my way, said Flynn.Your respect is more important to me thanthe formality.

Yes Ven! I mean Yes...uh.

Flynn chuckled. Dont hurt yourself,Gillings. Youll get it as you go along. Keep up

the good work.

Gillings nimbly jumped down and ran overto help extricate Bola. If he noticed the bluestream coming from her mouth, it didnt fazehim, although he didnt indulge in any of thathimself. Flynn liked that.

Chain was on deck to show Eggplantanother nifty feature of the ship that took theform of a big, round brass handle. This handlecontrols a series of counterweights below deck.

Because of the mass of the ship, you shouldnthave too much trouble with the attitude of theship. However, if the wind starts coming in toohard, you might feel the sails tipping the ship,and thats where this comes in. If the windsare taking you firmly to port, pull the handleto starboard. A series of articulated coun-terweights engage below deck, fore and aft,allowing you to correct for the wind. Ive gotsome ideas on how to automate that process,

but it would take some tech that we dont yethave. A lot of that will depend on how desperatethe Menorrans are to cooperate with us if wehelp take some of the heat off their back, butIll leave the negotiations to the captain.

Captain Flynn and the riggers happened to

be passing by. He heard the last part of thatexchange, stopped by the wheelhouse, drewhis sword with a flourish, drew the hilt of hissword up to his face, saluted, and jauntilysheathed the sword again before making hisway to the aft sails.

It was noon before the ship was fullyunderway. It took longer than anyone expectedto get the sails unfurled and tied but it was anexciting moment when the mainsail crackledto life and filled with wind. The little crew sent

up a cheer as the ship started moving.

They went over to the rail and lookedoverboard.

Humble said, So thats it, were on ourway.

Mr. Pitt said Yup, which earned him anappreciative grin from the crew.

Chain said, Id guess shes giving us 30knots, at least, at least three times faster thanwed be in the water.

Gillings said, Stick aroundyou haventseen anything yet.

Bola said, Its officialI dont like rope.

Eggplant said, Captain, whats next?

The captain looked around him and thenstared ahead with a faraway look in his eyes.

The crew quieted as they waited for him tospeak. Well, were done here. Next up is alittle tradition common to sailing ships aroundthe fleet. I like to call it lunch!

The crew erupted in cheers again and,with the exception of Eggplant, who took the

afternoon helm, they all filed down to thegalley below deck to see what they had in storeto eat.

#

Everything onboard ship is smaller thanyou think it should be, and the galley was nodifferent. With that said, the designers of theHMS Majeste knew what they were doing, andthe galley as a gathering area felt larger than itactually was. With four wide, strong, portals,two on a side, there was good light streaminginto the galley on both sides, and everyone feltright at home.

Mr. Pitt showed a side of himself thatnobody expected and quickly rigged together agreat pot of beans, fresh bread, fruit, and hadcracked open some of the sausages so commononboard ship. The crew gathered around atable and they sat down to eat.

Ive been onboard a number of Haddirronnaval ships, said Mr. Humble, and Ive neverhad a spread like this.

Were not just any ship, said Flynn. Ihad the larder stocked for our crew earlierthis week in advance of this cruise before theconfusion with Her Majestys accountant. Iknow that other naval ships have one menufor the captain and the officers and another,lesser menu, for the crew. That ends here. We



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eat together or not at all.

That earned a frankly appreciative starefrom Mr. Humble and the other seasonedsailors.

This is a special occasion, said Flynn, andhe drew a hitherto hidden dagger that he usedto expertly lop the top off two bottles of wine.A toast to our new ship.

About that, Captain, Humble said, weknow she used to be called the Majeste, butwe dont know what to call her now.

Bola snorted, busily shoveling beans intoher mouth, gripping the spoon over-handedand leaving all style for anyone else.

You have something to add, Bola? asked

Flynn.

She paused, wiped her face on her sleeve,and said, You told us her name there on thepier.

They all looked around at each other andthen back at her.

She set her spoon down. I may not be asfast with the words as the captain or Eggplant,and somebody had to tell me what the word

meant, but that doesnt make me slow. I heardit just as all of you. Coop can stand for me. Hesaid, very clearlyeven if he was whisperinga bitOkay, this is our night, lets take whatsours, with Alacrity. The captain can settle if hesaid that or not.

Nervous laughter broke out among themen until she drew a knife larger than a paringknife but smaller than a dagger and buried thepoint of the knife in the table. Her name is

Alacrity, she said, and then proceeded topare her apple as if that was that.

The captain leaned back and nodded hishead. Well, there you have it. Shes fast,nimble, and ours. Alacrity, it is. Thank you,Bola.

Bola gestured with her blade in such a wayas to indicate that it was nothing, and he waswelcome. If it also indicated other things to themen that she was slightly unhinged and wasntone to mess around with, she didnt bother tocorrect the misunderstanding.

Ensign Gillings said, Bola, you appear toknow how to handle that knife. Where did youcome by it?

She quaffed a large gulp and answered.Never mind where I came by the knife. I cameby knowledge of what to do with it growingup in the streets of Jhaston. They were meanstreets and I never seemed to quite haveenough to eat.

Where were your parents?

I never knew my parents. My first memoriesare from a local orphanage. They mistreatedme terribly, making me wear dresses andtrying to learn me things all cooped up with theothers in a classroom. I tried to learn but mymind was always outside with the mercenar-ies. We always seemed to be eating vegetablesand water while they dined on meat and wine.It was a rare day that we got meat, much lessgoodmeat, but one day, one of our supportersbrought in great plates with ribs and sauce. Ithought I was in the heavens. Id went out backto eat

Documents

Ray Gun Revival magazine, Issue 28