If you have self published or you are thinking of self publishing there is something in here that you can take away.
There's lots of general help and some specific tips and a bit of wisdom such as the statement listed below.
"If you think your writing is perfect and that you never make mistakes, then you're clearly delusional - no offense, but no one is perfect, ever."
How Expert Press; Johnson, Jennifer-Crystal (2012-04-01). How To Self Publish - Your Step-By-Step Guide to Self Publishing (Kindle Locations 278-279). . Kindle Edition.
I like that it covers a lot of territory in a compact area. Everything from editing to formatting and choosing programs to help publish and format the cover graphics. Tips on creating e-books that will give the reader the best experience. I particularly found the tutorial for setting up MS Word review features helpful. That is something I could have benefited from on my first venture into self publishing. Now when I hand someone my raw work to edit I can just say here- chapter one under Revision.
Nice tool.
J.L. Dobias Author of Cripple-Mode:Hot Electric
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
V:The Other Hamilton Sister: Rifle
The Rifle; is the key.
That's what Dalton had suggested. He shifts his position in the sand where I'd left him sitting. His hands are still restrained by the overlarge tie-wrap.
I walk over to the rifle. I pick it up and use the edge of my blouse to wipe the grit off of it. Turning it slowly in my hands. It sure looks like dads. I choke back a breath. I observe, "This could easily be it, but I've no idea how many of these there might be around here." I look up at Dalton as if he might be able to confirm something and turn away before he can respond.
My eyes stop and rest on Ted who is still in his alcoholic stupor watching this drama unfold. Ted doesn't appear to be focused on anything. I slowly look back at our prisoner.
Dalton moves once more. He winces as though in pain and looks over his shoulders then at me. He says, "It's a one of a kind here. Possibly the only one outside of earth itself. That's an exceptionally old piece." It almost seemed to me he'd left off saying, Belongs in a museum. That makes sense. Dad made his own shells.
I grip it a more tightly. The significance begins to grow. My eyes tear away from it and rest again on Dalton. I've no idea if he can fathom how much this means to me. I look again at the rifle. I pull back the bolt. The trigger moves and the used cartridge is exposed. Obviously Jason doesn't know how these work or he forgot in a hurry during the excitement. It's a wonder he had it loaded and ready. If he's not familiar, someone else must have set this up before giving it to him. The question then is why. Jason might have even fired it by accident. The second time he tried to fire wasn't an accident, but it was very stupid. I flip the spent cartridge to the ground. I pull down the magazine, it has only two bullets left. I dig those out and stuff them in my pocket then replace the magazine and leave the bolt and trigger in locked position. I hook the rifle on my arm pointed at the ground.
As if thinking the same thing I am. Dalton says, "Interesting."
I let out a slow breath and manage to croak out, "So you found my parents dead and someone took this and you traced it to Jase."
Dalton shakes his head and says, "Not quite. I wasn't able to get near the compound and I was following a different trail."
I correct him and say, "It's a house or estate, that's what we call them here." I open my eyes wider and stand straight while considering what he's just said.
Dalton shrugs,"Yeah. I know. I'm sure they call them that where my primary came from. I didn't know about the rifle until I saw your friend coming over a hill waving it around dangerously. I knew it existed. Until I saw him with it I wouldn't have known where it was. I assumed he was headed this way. He had the rifle and I figured that he was the one I was looking for."
Breathing more normally I grasp onto what he's said and ask, "You couldn't get near the house? Were the local police there and you are unofficial or something so you couldn't get involved with them?"
Shaking his head he say, "Na. They took me there so I could see that they really had the problem they said they had. They thought I could solve it for them. I couldn't and that's when they got upset and we parted ways."
Coming over next to him and pulling out my knife I say, "So, what kind of problem did they have?"
He gives me a dubious look until he's certain I'm not going to slash him. I use the knife to saw away the plastic tie from his wrists. While he rubs at the marks he says, "The um, Estate guardian."
Preforming my best dumb look I say, "Estate what?"
He repeats, "Guardian." Then he looks at me for a hint that I might have a clue. He says, "It's some older tech from the clone home worlds. Some of the tribes use them to guard the property of important tribe members. The guardian stays dormant while monitoring life signs of the owner. If he dies or appears to, they activate and protect the property of the owner. In most cases it amounts to protecting the body. Trouble with them is that they can activate if the owner is too far away from them and forgotten to disarm them. I need to confirm that your parents really are dead, but can't do that until the guardian is deactivated."
Shaking my head, I say, "I didn't know they had one of those. So, they sent you here without the code to deactivate it. I hope you didn't come here to me for the code."
Dalton looks annoyed but says, "I had the code. And it's a bit tricky and dangerous approaching one of those. It can be deadly if you don't deactivate it right away. It seems your father changed the code somehow. It was quite a feat to get away from that thing before it squashed me."
I nod and say, "And that's about the time the locals abandoned you?"
Dalton runs his hand through his hair and says, "That about sums it up."
I narrow my eyes to slits again. I say, "Can't the locals just hit it with something hard. Maybe knock it over and disable it."
He shrugs and says, "Maybe something from their military. I think they're hoping your parents are just absent. The hardware to bring it down is expensive and so is the guardian."
Ted distracts us with a movement. The branches on the ground crack as he tries to back into the edge of the trees. I turn around to look in the direction that Jason had run off. I first see Misha then Jason. He must have brought her for an extra witness for when I strangle him.
Jase has his hands in his pockets and is looking down. Hesitantly his voice explains, "I didn't know it was loaded."
I fix him with a stare and say, "Well, that's the first rule with these things. Always treat them as though they're loaded. What I really need to know though is how you ended up with it. I also thought by now you'd be half way back to the big city. And, before you tell me anything I should explain something to you. This was very important to my father. He kept it locked up. I tried to get it out a couple of times just because I was sick and tired of his obsessiveness with it and a few other things. He always caught me in the middle of the act. The last time he told me if anything ever happened to him he'd be sure that I got this since I found it so fascinating."
Jason looks away then edges into the camp in careful steps. Misha is holding back where she is. I can see she's pretty uneasy about what might transpire. I've no idea what Jase may have told her. He says,"Yeah, well. Your dad told me I should give that to you. That's all there is to it."
My body almost sags involuntarily. I say, "Ha! Now I'm not sure what bothers me most. That you appeared as though you were going to keep this or that you were actually talking to my father. What is that all about?"
Jason looks from Misha to Ted then to me and says, "I don't think I was the only one he offered to pay to come talk to him. He just wanted to talk about you. How you've been doing." Jase's eyes dart to the side to watch Dalton, his hands are making fists.
I'm still glaring at him without uttering a word. A while later when his eyes come back to me he says, "I, think he was going to offer me some credits to bring you back home. He wanted you home whatever way he could get it done. It was a lot of credit. But, I wasn't gonna take it for anything."
I look at his co-conspirators and say, "I'm sure it was a lot of credits. So what really happened? Why did he change his mind?" For the next question I have to bite my tongue a bit. "Is that why you killed him and took this?" It takes every once of energy to keep my voice steady.
Jase shakes his head and says, "I swear he was fine when I left. You heard the man here. He didn't check cause of that guardian thing. Maybe they're still alive. All I know is he already had the weapon out. He seemed spooked about something and gave me extra chits and told me to make sure you stay where you are."
I look at Dalton who is also shaking his head. He say, "It's possible they could be alive but not likely. I'm not sure anyone would be able to tweak the guardian to activate when the owner is still alive and nearby. And, it could have even been keyed to only trigger if both of them were dead. I suppose if they both packed up and ran off somewhere far enough away the guardian might have triggered. I'll know that once I can get past it. But, by design it's primary function is to locate the body and protect it. Based on it's constant position I'd guess it's protecting something."
I'm wondering now why he even bothered to come out here. Dalton must be able to read my body language because he says, "I'm hoping that it might be keyed to you also. You are out of range right now. As soon as we get you closer it might response to your presence."
I say, "So, what's the key look like? Cause I don't wear jewelry and crap." Dalton approaches me. I step back and the rifle bobs on my arm. He looks at it and stops. I stare and say, "What do you have in mind."
Dalton says, "It's a tag. Sometimes in the earlobe. Maybe. It will feel like a lump."
I put my hand up to my left lob then the right. I shake my head.
He says, "Sometimes they insert them in other places."
To that I give him a steady stare. I say, "Well, I don't know you well enough to have you groping all over my body in search of something that probably doesn't exist. In fact,now that I think of it, was that the plan last night?"
He slowly shakes his head while backing away with his hands half way up.
There's a long quiet into which I do a lot of pondering. I finally break it, slapping my hands together. I say, "Well, maybe we should go check this out and see if there's a way to get in there." Dalton doesn't move or speak and that might be a good sign. Still I have doubts. Almost hopefully I say, "Unless my dad paid you to concoct this god awful story?"
Dalton shakes his head again. His voice is almost soft as he says, "I wish it were that simple."
Jason says, "Hey, we could go along. Make sure he keeps his hands to himself. Make sure you can come back here after you straighten things out. Oh, hey. Your father wanted you to stay out here. Maybe you should do that. Maybe he sent the gun to you for protection."
I think Jason is telling the truth. There still is room for doubt though. I walk over to him and say, "It's okay. You should stay here. If Mr. Greymare here had it wrong, the authority in town might have things just as muddled. You probably don't want to deal with them."
Walking into his space I say, "You can hold on to this while I'm gone. And even though I took the live rounds from it, don't point it at anyone."
I grab the stock twist it around still pointing it at the ground. And I place the rifle into his shaking hands.
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
That's what Dalton had suggested. He shifts his position in the sand where I'd left him sitting. His hands are still restrained by the overlarge tie-wrap.
I walk over to the rifle. I pick it up and use the edge of my blouse to wipe the grit off of it. Turning it slowly in my hands. It sure looks like dads. I choke back a breath. I observe, "This could easily be it, but I've no idea how many of these there might be around here." I look up at Dalton as if he might be able to confirm something and turn away before he can respond.
My eyes stop and rest on Ted who is still in his alcoholic stupor watching this drama unfold. Ted doesn't appear to be focused on anything. I slowly look back at our prisoner.
Dalton moves once more. He winces as though in pain and looks over his shoulders then at me. He says, "It's a one of a kind here. Possibly the only one outside of earth itself. That's an exceptionally old piece." It almost seemed to me he'd left off saying, Belongs in a museum. That makes sense. Dad made his own shells.
I grip it a more tightly. The significance begins to grow. My eyes tear away from it and rest again on Dalton. I've no idea if he can fathom how much this means to me. I look again at the rifle. I pull back the bolt. The trigger moves and the used cartridge is exposed. Obviously Jason doesn't know how these work or he forgot in a hurry during the excitement. It's a wonder he had it loaded and ready. If he's not familiar, someone else must have set this up before giving it to him. The question then is why. Jason might have even fired it by accident. The second time he tried to fire wasn't an accident, but it was very stupid. I flip the spent cartridge to the ground. I pull down the magazine, it has only two bullets left. I dig those out and stuff them in my pocket then replace the magazine and leave the bolt and trigger in locked position. I hook the rifle on my arm pointed at the ground.
As if thinking the same thing I am. Dalton says, "Interesting."
I let out a slow breath and manage to croak out, "So you found my parents dead and someone took this and you traced it to Jase."
Dalton shakes his head and says, "Not quite. I wasn't able to get near the compound and I was following a different trail."
I correct him and say, "It's a house or estate, that's what we call them here." I open my eyes wider and stand straight while considering what he's just said.
Dalton shrugs,"Yeah. I know. I'm sure they call them that where my primary came from. I didn't know about the rifle until I saw your friend coming over a hill waving it around dangerously. I knew it existed. Until I saw him with it I wouldn't have known where it was. I assumed he was headed this way. He had the rifle and I figured that he was the one I was looking for."
Breathing more normally I grasp onto what he's said and ask, "You couldn't get near the house? Were the local police there and you are unofficial or something so you couldn't get involved with them?"
Shaking his head he say, "Na. They took me there so I could see that they really had the problem they said they had. They thought I could solve it for them. I couldn't and that's when they got upset and we parted ways."
Coming over next to him and pulling out my knife I say, "So, what kind of problem did they have?"
He gives me a dubious look until he's certain I'm not going to slash him. I use the knife to saw away the plastic tie from his wrists. While he rubs at the marks he says, "The um, Estate guardian."
Preforming my best dumb look I say, "Estate what?"
He repeats, "Guardian." Then he looks at me for a hint that I might have a clue. He says, "It's some older tech from the clone home worlds. Some of the tribes use them to guard the property of important tribe members. The guardian stays dormant while monitoring life signs of the owner. If he dies or appears to, they activate and protect the property of the owner. In most cases it amounts to protecting the body. Trouble with them is that they can activate if the owner is too far away from them and forgotten to disarm them. I need to confirm that your parents really are dead, but can't do that until the guardian is deactivated."
Shaking my head, I say, "I didn't know they had one of those. So, they sent you here without the code to deactivate it. I hope you didn't come here to me for the code."
Dalton looks annoyed but says, "I had the code. And it's a bit tricky and dangerous approaching one of those. It can be deadly if you don't deactivate it right away. It seems your father changed the code somehow. It was quite a feat to get away from that thing before it squashed me."
I nod and say, "And that's about the time the locals abandoned you?"
Dalton runs his hand through his hair and says, "That about sums it up."
I narrow my eyes to slits again. I say, "Can't the locals just hit it with something hard. Maybe knock it over and disable it."
He shrugs and says, "Maybe something from their military. I think they're hoping your parents are just absent. The hardware to bring it down is expensive and so is the guardian."
Ted distracts us with a movement. The branches on the ground crack as he tries to back into the edge of the trees. I turn around to look in the direction that Jason had run off. I first see Misha then Jason. He must have brought her for an extra witness for when I strangle him.
Jase has his hands in his pockets and is looking down. Hesitantly his voice explains, "I didn't know it was loaded."
I fix him with a stare and say, "Well, that's the first rule with these things. Always treat them as though they're loaded. What I really need to know though is how you ended up with it. I also thought by now you'd be half way back to the big city. And, before you tell me anything I should explain something to you. This was very important to my father. He kept it locked up. I tried to get it out a couple of times just because I was sick and tired of his obsessiveness with it and a few other things. He always caught me in the middle of the act. The last time he told me if anything ever happened to him he'd be sure that I got this since I found it so fascinating."
Jason looks away then edges into the camp in careful steps. Misha is holding back where she is. I can see she's pretty uneasy about what might transpire. I've no idea what Jase may have told her. He says,"Yeah, well. Your dad told me I should give that to you. That's all there is to it."
My body almost sags involuntarily. I say, "Ha! Now I'm not sure what bothers me most. That you appeared as though you were going to keep this or that you were actually talking to my father. What is that all about?"
Jason looks from Misha to Ted then to me and says, "I don't think I was the only one he offered to pay to come talk to him. He just wanted to talk about you. How you've been doing." Jase's eyes dart to the side to watch Dalton, his hands are making fists.
I'm still glaring at him without uttering a word. A while later when his eyes come back to me he says, "I, think he was going to offer me some credits to bring you back home. He wanted you home whatever way he could get it done. It was a lot of credit. But, I wasn't gonna take it for anything."
I look at his co-conspirators and say, "I'm sure it was a lot of credits. So what really happened? Why did he change his mind?" For the next question I have to bite my tongue a bit. "Is that why you killed him and took this?" It takes every once of energy to keep my voice steady.
Jase shakes his head and says, "I swear he was fine when I left. You heard the man here. He didn't check cause of that guardian thing. Maybe they're still alive. All I know is he already had the weapon out. He seemed spooked about something and gave me extra chits and told me to make sure you stay where you are."
I look at Dalton who is also shaking his head. He say, "It's possible they could be alive but not likely. I'm not sure anyone would be able to tweak the guardian to activate when the owner is still alive and nearby. And, it could have even been keyed to only trigger if both of them were dead. I suppose if they both packed up and ran off somewhere far enough away the guardian might have triggered. I'll know that once I can get past it. But, by design it's primary function is to locate the body and protect it. Based on it's constant position I'd guess it's protecting something."
I'm wondering now why he even bothered to come out here. Dalton must be able to read my body language because he says, "I'm hoping that it might be keyed to you also. You are out of range right now. As soon as we get you closer it might response to your presence."
I say, "So, what's the key look like? Cause I don't wear jewelry and crap." Dalton approaches me. I step back and the rifle bobs on my arm. He looks at it and stops. I stare and say, "What do you have in mind."
Dalton says, "It's a tag. Sometimes in the earlobe. Maybe. It will feel like a lump."
I put my hand up to my left lob then the right. I shake my head.
He says, "Sometimes they insert them in other places."
To that I give him a steady stare. I say, "Well, I don't know you well enough to have you groping all over my body in search of something that probably doesn't exist. In fact,now that I think of it, was that the plan last night?"
He slowly shakes his head while backing away with his hands half way up.
There's a long quiet into which I do a lot of pondering. I finally break it, slapping my hands together. I say, "Well, maybe we should go check this out and see if there's a way to get in there." Dalton doesn't move or speak and that might be a good sign. Still I have doubts. Almost hopefully I say, "Unless my dad paid you to concoct this god awful story?"
Dalton shakes his head again. His voice is almost soft as he says, "I wish it were that simple."
Jason says, "Hey, we could go along. Make sure he keeps his hands to himself. Make sure you can come back here after you straighten things out. Oh, hey. Your father wanted you to stay out here. Maybe you should do that. Maybe he sent the gun to you for protection."
I think Jason is telling the truth. There still is room for doubt though. I walk over to him and say, "It's okay. You should stay here. If Mr. Greymare here had it wrong, the authority in town might have things just as muddled. You probably don't want to deal with them."
Walking into his space I say, "You can hold on to this while I'm gone. And even though I took the live rounds from it, don't point it at anyone."
I grab the stock twist it around still pointing it at the ground. And I place the rifle into his shaking hands.
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
IV:The Other Hamilton Sister::Venom
Venom.
I've seen people cook these without draining em. Not me. Besides there are uses for that venom. I try to drain any that's left in the sack into whatever small container I have handy. This one only had a little. It was enough though if it had gotten close enough to score a hit. Stuff can paralyze a horse. If they can catch the horse. Most horses seem to have a sixth sense about these lizards.
Love the taste. That's the lizard not the horse.
Don't ask me what it taste like. I don't like chicken. Come to think of it this stuff is more like the marrow from that bone in the round steak. A little rich. You can only eat so much. But these lizards usually aren't any bigger than a cat. Cats like the lizard meat too. But, I've seen a few get on the wrong end of the deal. It's not pretty.
I lick some of the juices off my hand. The fire crackles and sparks. My other hand withdraws quickly. I've cut most of what I'll eat off. It's spread out on the flat part of the wood I call my plate. Sitting on my haunches well away from the radiating heat I nibble. When I look up Michelle shifts her weight. I think she's been sitting there waiting for me to offer her part of my kill. I point the knife at the fire. I say, "I was gonna save the legs for Jason. I know how much he likes them." Mich's nose wrinkles and the look of disgust tells me the legs are safe. I say,"Oh. Sorry I should have offered some of this." I separate the remaining chunks half and half and hold out the plate.
Mish puts her nose up and kicks at the dirt. Some of the dirt goes into the fire. She turns and starts to walk away. Without turning back she shouts, "You people are disgusting. I don't know how you can eat that crap. Those lizards and the disgusting..."
I offer, "Insects."
She says, "No! Those maggots. You eat insects too?"
I have to think about the maggots thing. Then I say, "Oh, the grubs. Sure those are good for you. And, It's mostly the larger insects. They have extra flavor."
She's almost running now. I can hear Mish choking or screaming. "Ahhhhhhhhhh..."
I hear someone laughing. Looking towards the sound I see Ted is standing shirtless with a jug under his arm. He's leaning up against a fragile tree. His feet are all clomping down on some green vines. I fix him with a remonstrant stare. I say, "It's really not that funny you know. She shouldn't be out here if she can't contribute. More so if she can't stomach the things we bring to the table."
Ted says, "She's a hoot. You were supposed to bring her up something from the bar." He uncorks the jug and takes a long swig.
I pull my eyes back and upward. "Oops. I forgot." I point at the flat thing on the fire with the legs lightly scorched. "I did bring that though, Jason doesn't have to have the legs."
Ted rolls his eyes and says, "Like she's ever going to touch that stuff."
I look at his jug and say, "Maybe if you could get her to drink some of that she wouldn't be so averse."
He hugs his jug more tightly. Now he has nasty looks for me. He says, "She starts in on my stash and I'll deliver her back to her mom and dad."
Shaking my head I say, "She didn't run away. They booted her. She doesn't have many options."
Ted grumbles, "As opposed to you who have parents who posted your picture before they discovered you weren't interested in being found."
I divert my gaze to the fire. Watching the flame inhale and exhale. I say, "Yeah, well. It wouldn't be a problem if I'd been brought up the sensible way. I'm not even sure how you can call people parents when they not only don't have your genes, but they have no clue how to parent someone."
Ted says, "Maybe you should cut them some slack."
That makes me growl. I say, "Maybe you shouldn't drink that stuff in the daytime when it can suck the water out of you. You'll pass out somewhere where no one notices and my next lunch will drag you off somewhere."
Ted shrugs his shoulders and says, "Circle of life, ya gotta love it."
I hear a rustling of the nearby foliage and start to wheel around. Ted shouts out, "Oh, welcome back Jase, you're early. Thought you was gonna work all weekend. What's that you brought back with you?"
I turn in time to have Mr. Dalton Greymare thrown almost at my feet. His hands are behind him. When his forward motion pushes him to his knees I have to stick mine out to keep his face from hitting the ground. His clothes are all dusty. His face and arms are scratched up a bit. When I take a closer look I can see the heavy duty plastic tie that's binding his hands together. I look up at Jason ready to ask him what the deal is but I have to stop and turn away. I'm almost laughing.
Jason is also covered in scratches. It looks like the bramble attacked both of these guys. But, Jason has a black eye too. Bramble doesn't usually do that. When I look back down on the captive I notice he has a shitty grin on his face and his eyes are staring at my thigh. Jason lowers the antique weapon he's pointing at Dalton. He scowls and says, "Good you can torture him for a while."
I nod at the rifle. "Where'd you get that? My dad has one like it. It's in a glass case. Like it's something valuable. Only takes it out to clean it."
Jason looks at the rifle with what seems like added respect. He smiles and says, "Got it as a sort of bonus on my last job."
I say, "Nice bonus." Reaching down I hook the tie and pull out my knife. I say, "Enuff horsing around. We should let Mr. Greymare go."
Jason looks at me with quizzical eyes. Then he nods and pulls a wallet from his pocket and says, "You know him? I guess that would be about right. Being he's from your home world. Don't cut him loose until I have a moment to find out why he ambushed me." His hand has stopped my knife before reaching the plastic.
"Ambush?" I raise my eyebrows. I don't know if I should be impressed or confused. I look at those boots again while Jason tosses the wallet at me. I catch it and look down to Dalton, who seems happy to rest his head on my thigh, I say, "Escura Luz, is this some joke. A fake ID. Greymare from Escura Luz. Lord Greymare?"
His shoulders shrug and Dalton says, "I am but a shadow of my former self."
That hits home. The clones that are brought up after their namesake has passed away are religiously taught to view their life that way. I throw the wallet down and say, "Yeah, a shadow full of crap maybe."
He doesn't say anything so I grasp his wrist and tear him away from his comfort zone.
Jason says, "I didn't know you had lords on the clone worlds."
I look Dalton in the eyes. Yeah there it is or isn't. There's no fear. He has a neck chain. I pull at it and it pops out with a small tube floating at the end. These are used to scab off a chunk of flesh to go to the vats when Dalton has any sort of death, untimely or otherwise. Most of the clans closer to the central cities keep some on file. Some like the ones in the region of Escura Luz don't have that much luxury. And some choose to wait until the event happens. They have been known to lose a part of their line that way. He still looks too soft to me. But I now have a little more respect for him.
Letting out a long breath I say, "So what are you doing here?"
Almost bordering on glib Dalton says, "Your friend here dragged me."
Shaking my head I say, "Not here, here. Why are you on New Terra? I always thought mom and dad were just being paranoid that someone was going to come out here looking for us."
Dalton fixes me with a cold stare before he turns his head and over his shoulder he says,"You should have killed me out there when you had the chance." Jason just looks confused. Dalton turns back to me. He says, "Your parents are dead."
My heart sinks and I have no idea why.
It's quiet for a long time. Jason seems to be on the edge. He's holding the rifle as though he's going to throttle it or maybe strike Dalton with the stock. Unsure of which, I hold up my hand and say,"You don't want to mar that if it's valuable." I stare at Dalton while a moist glimmer of a tear is trying to make itself in the corner of my eye.
Dalton looks once more over his shoulder and then address's me again. "They were murdered three days ago. I arrived here yesterday. I picked up the perpetrators trail by evening. They went to ground and I spent the night at your nice tavern. I almost missed his flight out this way but i was able to get up there on Jerry's truck so I could intercept him."
Gasping once I say, "What are you talking about?"
Jason takes this moment to bring the rifle to bear down on Dalton's kidney. Dalton's knees start to buckle but he holds his stance. He grits his teeth and says, "You should really take a closer look at that weapon."
Jason brings the rifle up, I try to grab the barrel and pull him towards me. He lets off a shot that nearly deafens me. He pushes me aside trying to rip the rifle from my hands. He tries to point it at Dalton with me still holding onto it. I grasp my knife and swing it out towards Jason's face. Jason brings up a hand to his face and he steps back. It probably felt like he was stung. He looks at the blood on his finger and starts to move forward again with the rifle.
I grit my teeth and say, "You should probably get down to the river and wash that out." I let my eyes wander to the fire where the charbroiled lizard sits over the dying embers."
Jason looks, his eyes widen and he drops the rifle and runs almost in the same direction Mich had gone.
I wheel around and grasp the front of Dalton's shirt. I pull him closer and say, "Alright, while he's busy you better start talking fast."
When he remains mute I nudge him."Better hurry before he realizes that knife didn't have any venom on it."
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
I've seen people cook these without draining em. Not me. Besides there are uses for that venom. I try to drain any that's left in the sack into whatever small container I have handy. This one only had a little. It was enough though if it had gotten close enough to score a hit. Stuff can paralyze a horse. If they can catch the horse. Most horses seem to have a sixth sense about these lizards.
Love the taste. That's the lizard not the horse.
Don't ask me what it taste like. I don't like chicken. Come to think of it this stuff is more like the marrow from that bone in the round steak. A little rich. You can only eat so much. But these lizards usually aren't any bigger than a cat. Cats like the lizard meat too. But, I've seen a few get on the wrong end of the deal. It's not pretty.
I lick some of the juices off my hand. The fire crackles and sparks. My other hand withdraws quickly. I've cut most of what I'll eat off. It's spread out on the flat part of the wood I call my plate. Sitting on my haunches well away from the radiating heat I nibble. When I look up Michelle shifts her weight. I think she's been sitting there waiting for me to offer her part of my kill. I point the knife at the fire. I say, "I was gonna save the legs for Jason. I know how much he likes them." Mich's nose wrinkles and the look of disgust tells me the legs are safe. I say,"Oh. Sorry I should have offered some of this." I separate the remaining chunks half and half and hold out the plate.
Mish puts her nose up and kicks at the dirt. Some of the dirt goes into the fire. She turns and starts to walk away. Without turning back she shouts, "You people are disgusting. I don't know how you can eat that crap. Those lizards and the disgusting..."
I offer, "Insects."
She says, "No! Those maggots. You eat insects too?"
I have to think about the maggots thing. Then I say, "Oh, the grubs. Sure those are good for you. And, It's mostly the larger insects. They have extra flavor."
She's almost running now. I can hear Mish choking or screaming. "Ahhhhhhhhhh..."
I hear someone laughing. Looking towards the sound I see Ted is standing shirtless with a jug under his arm. He's leaning up against a fragile tree. His feet are all clomping down on some green vines. I fix him with a remonstrant stare. I say, "It's really not that funny you know. She shouldn't be out here if she can't contribute. More so if she can't stomach the things we bring to the table."
Ted says, "She's a hoot. You were supposed to bring her up something from the bar." He uncorks the jug and takes a long swig.
I pull my eyes back and upward. "Oops. I forgot." I point at the flat thing on the fire with the legs lightly scorched. "I did bring that though, Jason doesn't have to have the legs."
Ted rolls his eyes and says, "Like she's ever going to touch that stuff."
I look at his jug and say, "Maybe if you could get her to drink some of that she wouldn't be so averse."
He hugs his jug more tightly. Now he has nasty looks for me. He says, "She starts in on my stash and I'll deliver her back to her mom and dad."
Shaking my head I say, "She didn't run away. They booted her. She doesn't have many options."
Ted grumbles, "As opposed to you who have parents who posted your picture before they discovered you weren't interested in being found."
I divert my gaze to the fire. Watching the flame inhale and exhale. I say, "Yeah, well. It wouldn't be a problem if I'd been brought up the sensible way. I'm not even sure how you can call people parents when they not only don't have your genes, but they have no clue how to parent someone."
Ted says, "Maybe you should cut them some slack."
That makes me growl. I say, "Maybe you shouldn't drink that stuff in the daytime when it can suck the water out of you. You'll pass out somewhere where no one notices and my next lunch will drag you off somewhere."
Ted shrugs his shoulders and says, "Circle of life, ya gotta love it."
I hear a rustling of the nearby foliage and start to wheel around. Ted shouts out, "Oh, welcome back Jase, you're early. Thought you was gonna work all weekend. What's that you brought back with you?"
I turn in time to have Mr. Dalton Greymare thrown almost at my feet. His hands are behind him. When his forward motion pushes him to his knees I have to stick mine out to keep his face from hitting the ground. His clothes are all dusty. His face and arms are scratched up a bit. When I take a closer look I can see the heavy duty plastic tie that's binding his hands together. I look up at Jason ready to ask him what the deal is but I have to stop and turn away. I'm almost laughing.
Jason is also covered in scratches. It looks like the bramble attacked both of these guys. But, Jason has a black eye too. Bramble doesn't usually do that. When I look back down on the captive I notice he has a shitty grin on his face and his eyes are staring at my thigh. Jason lowers the antique weapon he's pointing at Dalton. He scowls and says, "Good you can torture him for a while."
I nod at the rifle. "Where'd you get that? My dad has one like it. It's in a glass case. Like it's something valuable. Only takes it out to clean it."
Jason looks at the rifle with what seems like added respect. He smiles and says, "Got it as a sort of bonus on my last job."
I say, "Nice bonus." Reaching down I hook the tie and pull out my knife. I say, "Enuff horsing around. We should let Mr. Greymare go."
Jason looks at me with quizzical eyes. Then he nods and pulls a wallet from his pocket and says, "You know him? I guess that would be about right. Being he's from your home world. Don't cut him loose until I have a moment to find out why he ambushed me." His hand has stopped my knife before reaching the plastic.
"Ambush?" I raise my eyebrows. I don't know if I should be impressed or confused. I look at those boots again while Jason tosses the wallet at me. I catch it and look down to Dalton, who seems happy to rest his head on my thigh, I say, "Escura Luz, is this some joke. A fake ID. Greymare from Escura Luz. Lord Greymare?"
His shoulders shrug and Dalton says, "I am but a shadow of my former self."
That hits home. The clones that are brought up after their namesake has passed away are religiously taught to view their life that way. I throw the wallet down and say, "Yeah, a shadow full of crap maybe."
He doesn't say anything so I grasp his wrist and tear him away from his comfort zone.
Jason says, "I didn't know you had lords on the clone worlds."
I look Dalton in the eyes. Yeah there it is or isn't. There's no fear. He has a neck chain. I pull at it and it pops out with a small tube floating at the end. These are used to scab off a chunk of flesh to go to the vats when Dalton has any sort of death, untimely or otherwise. Most of the clans closer to the central cities keep some on file. Some like the ones in the region of Escura Luz don't have that much luxury. And some choose to wait until the event happens. They have been known to lose a part of their line that way. He still looks too soft to me. But I now have a little more respect for him.
Letting out a long breath I say, "So what are you doing here?"
Almost bordering on glib Dalton says, "Your friend here dragged me."
Shaking my head I say, "Not here, here. Why are you on New Terra? I always thought mom and dad were just being paranoid that someone was going to come out here looking for us."
Dalton fixes me with a cold stare before he turns his head and over his shoulder he says,"You should have killed me out there when you had the chance." Jason just looks confused. Dalton turns back to me. He says, "Your parents are dead."
My heart sinks and I have no idea why.
It's quiet for a long time. Jason seems to be on the edge. He's holding the rifle as though he's going to throttle it or maybe strike Dalton with the stock. Unsure of which, I hold up my hand and say,"You don't want to mar that if it's valuable." I stare at Dalton while a moist glimmer of a tear is trying to make itself in the corner of my eye.
Dalton looks once more over his shoulder and then address's me again. "They were murdered three days ago. I arrived here yesterday. I picked up the perpetrators trail by evening. They went to ground and I spent the night at your nice tavern. I almost missed his flight out this way but i was able to get up there on Jerry's truck so I could intercept him."
Gasping once I say, "What are you talking about?"
Jason takes this moment to bring the rifle to bear down on Dalton's kidney. Dalton's knees start to buckle but he holds his stance. He grits his teeth and says, "You should really take a closer look at that weapon."
Jason brings the rifle up, I try to grab the barrel and pull him towards me. He lets off a shot that nearly deafens me. He pushes me aside trying to rip the rifle from my hands. He tries to point it at Dalton with me still holding onto it. I grasp my knife and swing it out towards Jason's face. Jason brings up a hand to his face and he steps back. It probably felt like he was stung. He looks at the blood on his finger and starts to move forward again with the rifle.
I grit my teeth and say, "You should probably get down to the river and wash that out." I let my eyes wander to the fire where the charbroiled lizard sits over the dying embers."
Jason looks, his eyes widen and he drops the rifle and runs almost in the same direction Mich had gone.
I wheel around and grasp the front of Dalton's shirt. I pull him closer and say, "Alright, while he's busy you better start talking fast."
When he remains mute I nudge him."Better hurry before he realizes that knife didn't have any venom on it."
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
Monday, May 21, 2012
III:The Other Hamilton Sister::Hiss
Hiss!
I hear the hiss first and it causes me to turn roundabout 180. A hiss is always bad out here. Damn lizards. They attack just about anything this time of day. I have my knife out. I don't see the tell tale dust trail. I listen and watch. I hear the whirr and whoosh of an Anti-Grav lift truck. I wait and sure enough there's a hiss. It's still not a good thing. I look up from my stalking and down the twisted dirt path until I see the artificial dust devil bringing up the rear of Jerry's supply truck.
Jerry's an okay dude for a city type. He occasionally drops us campers a few supplies. And, on days like today he tends to offer me rides. That hiss tells me he'll want just a bit more than to offer me a ride though. Trouble with those old pieces of CORE material they use for the Anti-Grav is that they are made from the scrap of the good stuff they use in outer space. This one is overheating more than usual and the sweat from the systems pipes is starting to flow down upon it. That means the coolant system has been overtaxed or compromised.
I put my knife away and stick my hands in my back pockets while I wait for Jerry to catch up.
Jerry takes runs over the mountain and into the next valley. While in the big city He picks up supplies that he knows are needed in the small city. He makes a moderate profit selling the stuff to the locals in WestBend City. WestBend is mostly a shanty town. They have a local government though. Otherwise Jerry would make more profit. He has to pay taxes to the city.
Jerry's Rio Express is close enough now that I can see the sun gleaming off the silver grill. I can also distinguish the steam from dust. Anti-Grav is more push then it is a float. That creates dust. Some people call it anti-pressure, I'm not all that sure about that. But it does seem to show up better down here where pressure is higher. If a piece of CORE were to push its way up high enough it would likely stop for lack of enough pressure to react upon. The whole system is an affectation of keeping the CORE crippled. They call it cripple mode. They hobble the CORE so it doesn't slip into JumpSpace. That produces the Anti-Pressure effect. Trouble is it causes the CORE to overheat the longer it stays in that condition. It can take a lot of heat before it reaches critical.
If it gets that far it's going to do one of two things. It might just blow. It might slip into JumpSpace. Either way it will likely take a good chunk of whatever is near it with it. Jerry's taking a chance with that thing but maybe he saw me here and figured he could get to me before he could turn back and try to reach the city.
Several meters away there's a clunk and the dust storm dies. It dies with a vengeance though and comes whipping up around the front until everything disappears and I get a face full of dirt. As the wall of sand abates I catch the shape of the truck gliding towards me. The CORE is still activated or he'd be nosediving into the rock and sand. I can hear the thistle cacti pinging against the underbelly as the truck ducks a bit before it settles.
Jerry's tanned left arm is hanging out of the window. His head peeks out and he says, "Hey Angie lady how bout a cool ride?"
I call back, "Sounds about ready to get real hot if you ask me."
Jerry's other hand slips out with a rolled up pouch full of tools. "Na. Not if you take a quick look see. I'll be out to help you in a sec." I run up and take the pouch. A face leans around Jerry's shoulder. Jerry doesn't usually take on strangers. I don't recognize the face. It's nothing local. Jerry ignores the company and says, "The tank is full in back if it needs recharging."
Looking over his shoulder I say, "You starting a bus service Jerry?"
Jerry waves his hand and says, "Tourist."
That makes me blurt out, "Tourism in WestBend City. That's... different. I guess."
The face has a hand and it's waving at me. I take a closer look. Last time I saw that face it was serenely attached to a table top. I almost duck for cover. Instead I just wave and say, "Oh, hey you woke up."
Putting the tools down and wiping my forehead I look at Jerry who's bending my way and has been mostly watching. Jerry hands me a towel so I figure that means I should probably check and see what parts I just dirtied up on my face. I look at him and say, "It probably has a slow leak. You might have to have someone check it back in the big city. I'm not sure anyone in WestBend City will be of much help. I can't seem to find it and the system took a good charge and its holding for now. So you should be good to go. If you had someone charge this recently you might be able to gauge by that to when it will need attention again. I wouldn't wait though."
Jerry nods. He looks over his shoulder at the gentleman standing watch near the front of the truck. He's been real polite about not interfering or helping. He looks kinda soft anyway. Those boots of his look more fancy ornamental than practical. Good thing he's heading for the little city. He isn't rough enough for the terrain here. I touch Jerry's shoulder and say, "How much you getting for being a tour guide."
Jerry's face almost goes red. He hesitates and then says, "Enough."
I say, "Well, I guess i can ride out on the sideboards."
Jerry shrugs and says, "I don't think he'll mind you crowding into the cab."
I spit onto the ground and say, "I don't expect so. I'll still ride outside."
Jerry cocks his head and says, "He's the one noticed you out here first." He grins a bit and says, "He thought maybe we should offer you a ride."
I lift my eyebrows and say, "I take it you hadn't mentioned you were about to turn back."
Jerry looks off to the side and says, "I was only just then thinking about it. Kinda glad to see you myself." He looks back to the front of the truck at his guest.
I glance that way and back and have a thought. I say, "How much extra did you tag him for to let me ride along."
Jerry doesn't answer. That's what I thought always the entrepreneur. I grin at him and say, "If I did ride up front with him you'd just want to charge him more anyway."
As Jerry moves back towards the cab I notice a slight limp in his gait. I say, "What you do to your leg there."
He waves a hand in the air and says, "Just twisted things up while loading the truck. It'll be alright after I work it out a bit."
Were moving along at a fair clip and it won't take long to get up into the mountain and out of these hills. Jerry's path will take us a bit away from where the canyon divide sets hidden behind some of the largest trees you'll find around here. That means I still have a way to go after he drops me off.
I'm hanging off of Jerry's side of the truck and was going to ignore Tom over there on the other side. But, Tom seems too eager to make chit chat. He leans into the windshield to see around Jerry and says, "Hi my names Dalton. Dalton Greymare. I don't believe I got your name last night."
I turn to let the wind hit my face. There is still a lot of whining and whuring going on and all sorts of dust kicking around behind us. These Diamond Reo's blend in nice what with all the natural dust devils that whip up along the plain below. Leaning back into the window a bit, to annoy Jerry mostly, I say, "Angie."
Jerry laughs, "Yep, just Angie."
I shake my head a bit. That's what most people think, just Angie. I remember the General had a last name for us. We girls. What was that? Something having to do with the prime male donor for our genetic workup. I have another thought though. I lean into the truck again and say, "Greymare that's a prominent name in current clone history."
Dalton nods and says, "Yep."
I'm thinking he's either just agreeing with me or he might know a bit of common history. Things stay quiet for a while and I finally blurt out. "Hamilton, That's my last name or at least the only one anyone ever tried to give me."
Dalton says, "That's another name with a lot of history."
Looking at him through slitted eyes I say, "Wouldn't know any of that."
He sits back quietly. So, I return to staring off in the distance. It won't be too long before I get off this ride anyway. Too soon we slow to a halt. I look back at our drifting brown tail. I hear Jerry say. "Just stopping to sight see."
I try to look past Jerry but he's half way out the window and in my way. So I shout, "Not much to see here unless you're partial to desolation. There's some nice trees and foliage up a bit further.' There's no answer so I turn and look across the sand and rock through the tumbleweeds. I'm almost tempted to get off and finish this on foot.
After a long wait Jerry says, "Well, you might just as well get in the cab now." He has leaned back in and the seat next to him is vacant. I step down and run around the front of the truck then I go half way to the rear. On the way back I shout, "What did you do with our guest?"
Jerry says, "He got off."
I say, "When?"
"Just now." Jerry looks out past me towards a large stand of dried weeds.
I wave my hands and say, "Why didn't you say something. I could've tripped him up and knocked him out. You could have delivered him to WestBend. Out here by himself something will kill him and eat him. At least in WestBend they won't eat him."
Jerry says, "He ran behind the bramble if you want to chase him. But, I'm not gonna stick around long."
I shout again, "Why did you do it? And, what anyway? He just decided this was a good spot to go hiking."
Jerry shakes his head, "Ha, he paid me earlier and said he was gonna be dropped of somewhere out here. Hell when we picked you up I figured he'd at least wait and get off with you. Course with you being miss cordial and all he must'ov figured that wouldn't work."
I nod and say,"Darn right it wouldn't." Looking outward I can't see anything moving. I say, "I'm not chasing after some mad man. Just remember when somebody misses him and tracks him out here I'm pointing them your way. No way I'm gonna put up with them harassing us once more for something we have nothing to do with."
Jerry says, "No Problem. I'm gonna pick him up here on the way back. I gave him the time and he said he'd be here."
As i climb into the cab I say, "And if he's not here."
Jerry shrugs, "I'll come up and visit with you and leave a note on the truck."
While I glare at Jerry he turns to start the truck. I say, "You didn't tell him how to get to our camp did you?"
Jerry puts us in gear and as we slide forward he shakes his head. "Na, I wouldn't do that. He'd be killed and eaten for sure then."
After that we ride in silence.
I slam the truck door and don't even say goodbye. I can't believe Jerry could be that rude. The trees afford enough shade for me and I take my time walking through the brush. We've been very careful not to wear down a traceable path. I walk back and forth weaving a new route over fallen trees and moss covered rocks. I'm quite a ways in before I hear the hiss. Jerry and his truck are gone so it's not them.
I stop to look around and I think about that foolish tourist. Maybe the boys can take a moment to hunt around for him. The lizards will still be active for a while. I pull my knife from my side and wrap my fist around it pointing the blade down.
Something moves.
This time it's me who hisses.
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
I hear the hiss first and it causes me to turn roundabout 180. A hiss is always bad out here. Damn lizards. They attack just about anything this time of day. I have my knife out. I don't see the tell tale dust trail. I listen and watch. I hear the whirr and whoosh of an Anti-Grav lift truck. I wait and sure enough there's a hiss. It's still not a good thing. I look up from my stalking and down the twisted dirt path until I see the artificial dust devil bringing up the rear of Jerry's supply truck.
Jerry's an okay dude for a city type. He occasionally drops us campers a few supplies. And, on days like today he tends to offer me rides. That hiss tells me he'll want just a bit more than to offer me a ride though. Trouble with those old pieces of CORE material they use for the Anti-Grav is that they are made from the scrap of the good stuff they use in outer space. This one is overheating more than usual and the sweat from the systems pipes is starting to flow down upon it. That means the coolant system has been overtaxed or compromised.
I put my knife away and stick my hands in my back pockets while I wait for Jerry to catch up.
Jerry takes runs over the mountain and into the next valley. While in the big city He picks up supplies that he knows are needed in the small city. He makes a moderate profit selling the stuff to the locals in WestBend City. WestBend is mostly a shanty town. They have a local government though. Otherwise Jerry would make more profit. He has to pay taxes to the city.
Jerry's Rio Express is close enough now that I can see the sun gleaming off the silver grill. I can also distinguish the steam from dust. Anti-Grav is more push then it is a float. That creates dust. Some people call it anti-pressure, I'm not all that sure about that. But it does seem to show up better down here where pressure is higher. If a piece of CORE were to push its way up high enough it would likely stop for lack of enough pressure to react upon. The whole system is an affectation of keeping the CORE crippled. They call it cripple mode. They hobble the CORE so it doesn't slip into JumpSpace. That produces the Anti-Pressure effect. Trouble is it causes the CORE to overheat the longer it stays in that condition. It can take a lot of heat before it reaches critical.
If it gets that far it's going to do one of two things. It might just blow. It might slip into JumpSpace. Either way it will likely take a good chunk of whatever is near it with it. Jerry's taking a chance with that thing but maybe he saw me here and figured he could get to me before he could turn back and try to reach the city.
Several meters away there's a clunk and the dust storm dies. It dies with a vengeance though and comes whipping up around the front until everything disappears and I get a face full of dirt. As the wall of sand abates I catch the shape of the truck gliding towards me. The CORE is still activated or he'd be nosediving into the rock and sand. I can hear the thistle cacti pinging against the underbelly as the truck ducks a bit before it settles.
Jerry's tanned left arm is hanging out of the window. His head peeks out and he says, "Hey Angie lady how bout a cool ride?"
I call back, "Sounds about ready to get real hot if you ask me."
Jerry's other hand slips out with a rolled up pouch full of tools. "Na. Not if you take a quick look see. I'll be out to help you in a sec." I run up and take the pouch. A face leans around Jerry's shoulder. Jerry doesn't usually take on strangers. I don't recognize the face. It's nothing local. Jerry ignores the company and says, "The tank is full in back if it needs recharging."
Looking over his shoulder I say, "You starting a bus service Jerry?"
Jerry waves his hand and says, "Tourist."
That makes me blurt out, "Tourism in WestBend City. That's... different. I guess."
The face has a hand and it's waving at me. I take a closer look. Last time I saw that face it was serenely attached to a table top. I almost duck for cover. Instead I just wave and say, "Oh, hey you woke up."
Putting the tools down and wiping my forehead I look at Jerry who's bending my way and has been mostly watching. Jerry hands me a towel so I figure that means I should probably check and see what parts I just dirtied up on my face. I look at him and say, "It probably has a slow leak. You might have to have someone check it back in the big city. I'm not sure anyone in WestBend City will be of much help. I can't seem to find it and the system took a good charge and its holding for now. So you should be good to go. If you had someone charge this recently you might be able to gauge by that to when it will need attention again. I wouldn't wait though."
Jerry nods. He looks over his shoulder at the gentleman standing watch near the front of the truck. He's been real polite about not interfering or helping. He looks kinda soft anyway. Those boots of his look more fancy ornamental than practical. Good thing he's heading for the little city. He isn't rough enough for the terrain here. I touch Jerry's shoulder and say, "How much you getting for being a tour guide."
Jerry's face almost goes red. He hesitates and then says, "Enough."
I say, "Well, I guess i can ride out on the sideboards."
Jerry shrugs and says, "I don't think he'll mind you crowding into the cab."
I spit onto the ground and say, "I don't expect so. I'll still ride outside."
Jerry cocks his head and says, "He's the one noticed you out here first." He grins a bit and says, "He thought maybe we should offer you a ride."
I lift my eyebrows and say, "I take it you hadn't mentioned you were about to turn back."
Jerry looks off to the side and says, "I was only just then thinking about it. Kinda glad to see you myself." He looks back to the front of the truck at his guest.
I glance that way and back and have a thought. I say, "How much extra did you tag him for to let me ride along."
Jerry doesn't answer. That's what I thought always the entrepreneur. I grin at him and say, "If I did ride up front with him you'd just want to charge him more anyway."
As Jerry moves back towards the cab I notice a slight limp in his gait. I say, "What you do to your leg there."
He waves a hand in the air and says, "Just twisted things up while loading the truck. It'll be alright after I work it out a bit."
Were moving along at a fair clip and it won't take long to get up into the mountain and out of these hills. Jerry's path will take us a bit away from where the canyon divide sets hidden behind some of the largest trees you'll find around here. That means I still have a way to go after he drops me off.
I'm hanging off of Jerry's side of the truck and was going to ignore Tom over there on the other side. But, Tom seems too eager to make chit chat. He leans into the windshield to see around Jerry and says, "Hi my names Dalton. Dalton Greymare. I don't believe I got your name last night."
I turn to let the wind hit my face. There is still a lot of whining and whuring going on and all sorts of dust kicking around behind us. These Diamond Reo's blend in nice what with all the natural dust devils that whip up along the plain below. Leaning back into the window a bit, to annoy Jerry mostly, I say, "Angie."
Jerry laughs, "Yep, just Angie."
I shake my head a bit. That's what most people think, just Angie. I remember the General had a last name for us. We girls. What was that? Something having to do with the prime male donor for our genetic workup. I have another thought though. I lean into the truck again and say, "Greymare that's a prominent name in current clone history."
Dalton nods and says, "Yep."
I'm thinking he's either just agreeing with me or he might know a bit of common history. Things stay quiet for a while and I finally blurt out. "Hamilton, That's my last name or at least the only one anyone ever tried to give me."
Dalton says, "That's another name with a lot of history."
Looking at him through slitted eyes I say, "Wouldn't know any of that."
He sits back quietly. So, I return to staring off in the distance. It won't be too long before I get off this ride anyway. Too soon we slow to a halt. I look back at our drifting brown tail. I hear Jerry say. "Just stopping to sight see."
I try to look past Jerry but he's half way out the window and in my way. So I shout, "Not much to see here unless you're partial to desolation. There's some nice trees and foliage up a bit further.' There's no answer so I turn and look across the sand and rock through the tumbleweeds. I'm almost tempted to get off and finish this on foot.
After a long wait Jerry says, "Well, you might just as well get in the cab now." He has leaned back in and the seat next to him is vacant. I step down and run around the front of the truck then I go half way to the rear. On the way back I shout, "What did you do with our guest?"
Jerry says, "He got off."
I say, "When?"
"Just now." Jerry looks out past me towards a large stand of dried weeds.
I wave my hands and say, "Why didn't you say something. I could've tripped him up and knocked him out. You could have delivered him to WestBend. Out here by himself something will kill him and eat him. At least in WestBend they won't eat him."
Jerry says, "He ran behind the bramble if you want to chase him. But, I'm not gonna stick around long."
I shout again, "Why did you do it? And, what anyway? He just decided this was a good spot to go hiking."
Jerry shakes his head, "Ha, he paid me earlier and said he was gonna be dropped of somewhere out here. Hell when we picked you up I figured he'd at least wait and get off with you. Course with you being miss cordial and all he must'ov figured that wouldn't work."
I nod and say,"Darn right it wouldn't." Looking outward I can't see anything moving. I say, "I'm not chasing after some mad man. Just remember when somebody misses him and tracks him out here I'm pointing them your way. No way I'm gonna put up with them harassing us once more for something we have nothing to do with."
Jerry says, "No Problem. I'm gonna pick him up here on the way back. I gave him the time and he said he'd be here."
As i climb into the cab I say, "And if he's not here."
Jerry shrugs, "I'll come up and visit with you and leave a note on the truck."
While I glare at Jerry he turns to start the truck. I say, "You didn't tell him how to get to our camp did you?"
Jerry puts us in gear and as we slide forward he shakes his head. "Na, I wouldn't do that. He'd be killed and eaten for sure then."
After that we ride in silence.
I slam the truck door and don't even say goodbye. I can't believe Jerry could be that rude. The trees afford enough shade for me and I take my time walking through the brush. We've been very careful not to wear down a traceable path. I walk back and forth weaving a new route over fallen trees and moss covered rocks. I'm quite a ways in before I hear the hiss. Jerry and his truck are gone so it's not them.
I stop to look around and I think about that foolish tourist. Maybe the boys can take a moment to hunt around for him. The lizards will still be active for a while. I pull my knife from my side and wrap my fist around it pointing the blade down.
Something moves.
This time it's me who hisses.
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
Friday, May 4, 2012
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Thursday, May 3, 2012
Cripple-Mode: Some notes on its Birth
Then, as with many things, life sort of got in the way and took me on a wide left turn. But those two novels stayed tucked away in their briefcase through the ups and downs. All of the time I would have odd moments when I would dwell on the notion of getting back to them to whip them into shape.I mostly wrote snippets of poetry in those scattered years. And I read a large volume of science fiction.
By the mid 80s I had my first computer and was almost tempted . But, there was another left turn up ahead. It was not until the year 2000 that I got serious and looked at the old papers long enough to shake my head and decide I needed to have a back story for some of my ideas.
One of the main themes of my story involves the main characters struggle to adjust to specifically mind bending personal issues. A back story might leave that on the back burner. So I almost dropped the notion of spending a lot of time or for that matter anytime on the back story. But, I still needed to be more secure about how we got to that spot in her life. The original story took the reader half way into it before these issues even arose. It was at that point that I decided to bring the issues into the story at the very beginning.I just wasn't clear yet that this was going to be the beginning of the back story. It was not until I chose the style of writing that things began to jell and the story began to tell itself. Mind you this is all still in my head the real on paper writing doesn't start till 2006.
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
Saturday, April 28, 2012
II: Other Hamilton Sister::Heat
It's hot!
The sun blinds me. I try to look away, it reflects off the residue of dew on everything around me. It's not making this easy for me. Sweat on the coils of the AC is mocking me. I can't decide if it’s just the dew or if it’s another indicator.
I have to look up to relieve my eyes. What should be a pretty sky with its blue-red reminds me that I have to hurry. My eyes wash across the lesser moon that looms ever large in the sky. I know it won't be visible much longer with the clouds coming. I already feel the humidity the clouds bring with them.
With longing I glance at the remaining dew. I lick my lips feeling the dews fragility knowing New Terra is unable to embrace it. Our big mother star burns it off and tosses it back into the air around us. I can feel her smothering comfort rolling down my flesh. It's making me feel parched, squeezing me dry to burn my sweat from my skin. It's been less than an hour of sun, yet I feel as though its mid day.
I wipe my forehead with the thin sleeve of my chenille overcoat. My eyes watch it change color under the light. This distracts me from the affectation of my skin. I feel as comfortable as I can in this heat, having cast off my barmaids outfit in exchange for a sports bra and short shorts. I'd be more comfortable without the overcoat, but modesty prevents that. Not too much modesty though, I have left it unbuttoned.
I contemplate going back inside the bar with Jack, but it's going to get worse inside with the AC broken. I could make Jack come out here to do this. Then he'd have to completely replace the whole thing. I'm trying to help him avoid that. I look down upon my work.
Ants are dancing on the clots of fractured clay around the air conditioner. Seeming unperturbed by its spurious attempts to restart then die and restart again. Though, they have dissipated considerably since I shut the AC down completely.
I finish bleeding the system. It hasn't leaked out but it acts like it’s blocked somewhere. It could be one of these ants or a whole colony. The seals on this thing are worn enough to invite intrusion.
I carefully pull the reclamation canister and my rigged filter off the assembly. Hooking up the can of compressed air I give the system a good blow. I can hear the problem, Jack would likely not. It quickly disappears as whatever was there breaks loose and hits the palm of my hand. I'm thinking we're not out of the woods yet. Feeling uncertainty of the future, I make the sign of the cross and say a few Hail Marys. That could be sacrilegious, because I don't consider myself religious. Everything looks good to my eye. Well, as good as it can. I need to recharge the system.
First I cap it and test some pressure on it.
It's a bust. I mean a real bust. The leak is so evident I see the few remaining ants being blown hither and yon. Normally I'd give the wrench a good toss. I've not been using the wrench for fear of making things worse.
I ask myself why I'm doing this.
Turning at the sound of the back door opening fortuitously I can see Jack's head sticking out. He squints under the sun. He says, “Angie, how we doing out here?”
Stepping back from my work and looking at Jack, I say, “Hot, sticky. This damn stuff is worn beyond its warranty period by almost a decade. Could use some better sealant. A few new parts.”
Jack steps out. I watch as he shifts his slightly rotund midsection. After some difficulty he's standing on the stoop with the door shut. He's round not fat, but definitely not buff like the Tom's who strut around the bar. He looks to me to be in thought before he does a half dance with the door again to make a hasty retreat. I hear his grunting and grumbling as he disappears and the door closes. I'm thinking he can't stand the heat. But, his head comes out again. This time he lands in the sand. The door slams itself.
With a sheepish expression he offers me a bag.
He also offers a glass of amber liquid.
I wave a hand and say, “Thanks. You know I don't drink that stuff.”
I’m clutching my chenille together in front. I’d have to let go to grab both. I turn my back towards him as I take the sack.
Jack waves his hand pointing at the glass and says, “It's tea, with sugar, the way you like it.”
Embarrassed at my own lack of trust, I take the tea from his huge fist.
I set the bag down and look inside. It contains everything I need to do this job proper. I give Jack a well deserved harsh look. I say, “Great, make me do this twice. Where were you hiding this?”
Checking the ground for ants, I stomp around a bit. I sit. The ground feels cool. That's not good. That means I'm warmer than it is. I sip the tea slowly. "Thanks Jack, I really needed this tea."
Jack shrugs, wiping his fingers on the towel draped over his shoulder. He says, “Yeah, Sorry. I'm bad. I know. But, I listen and I picked this up a week ago. Figured it was due to quit soon.”
I pull my feet closer to me until my hiking boots touch where my bare thighs meet the hem on my shorts. Taking a very short break I touch the cool glass against my legs then I move my feet away to make room. Feeling contorted I try to reach the bag so I can I pour the parts in my lap. Flattening it on the ground I carefully lay the parts upon the bag in a row.
Feeling light headed and giddy for a number of reasons including the heat I exclaim, “Wow. All shiny and new. I hope this doesn't come out of my paycheck.”
I start to work again, this time I take up the wrench.
Jack says, "Only if you mess it up and I have to buy more parts." I watch him step into the little shadow offered by the structure of the bar. His gaze falls out across the desolation toward the line of trees that mark the lower edge of the mountains.
I look into the sky, looking for clouds. To me they are as scarce now as the ants are at night. I know that at night the clouds sink down covering the ground like a cottony blanket. The sun comes up to burn these away in short order. For a number of hours the moisture hangs in the air before clouds return like a colony of ants. I feel the need to hurry. I'm already overheated.
I catch Jack following my gaze, he says, “If this takes too long I can make an exception. Let you use that cot in back.”
I recall the first time Jack made such an offer. I'm not sure what he expected to get out of it. Whatever, he didn't get it. I feel comfortable with Jack though, you only have to say no once with him. With confused and possibly misplaced disappointment I recall he hasn't made such an offer since. But, I've been diligent about getting home early.
Huffing a couple of times, I stop to sip at my sweet tea. I look at Jack. I say, “Na, That's okay. I'll get home just fine. It's much cooler up in the mountains.”
Jack nods. As I work I can feel him become focused on his observation of my own intent process. He says, “Where and how did you learn to fix stuff?”
This is not the first time Jack's asked this. I say, “I dunno, it just came to me one day.” I stop and think about that. I'm certain each time I give him the same answer.
I hear Jack scoff. He half laughs and says, “Yeah, sure, don't tell me. You could go to town, take the test, and get licensed. No longer have to deal with the Tom’s here. I'm just say'in you'd have a good chance at a better career.”
I finish my work, check for leaks, fill the line, and bleed the air from the system. Everything is sealed and tight. Gathering Jacks tools, supplies, and decadent parts I stuff them into the bag and wipe my hands on the bag.
I see Jack raise his eyebrows. I nod, and watch him slip back inside. In short-order the conditioner comes on and begins to cycle. I wait and watch. After some moments, feeling some relief, I stand. I look to the door.
Jack’s hanging half in and half out. His gyrations are giving me a headache. I think he's torn about doing something or rushing in to enjoy the cooler air.
I wave and say, “She's all good.”
I see Jack decide and he falls upon me giving me a fatherly hug before I can move. He says, “You do good work.”
I shrug out of his grasp, put some distance between us. I do like the way he refrains from adding, for a clone, at the end of that sentence though.
Jack’s arms fall to his sides. He grins, “I'm serious. About schooling. I'd help pay for it. If you was my daughter …”
I shake my head, I say, “You'd miss me. Maybe you need to get yourself a real daughter.” As I think about that and what he tried that first night I think, maybe not.
Jack waves his hand. He says, “Na.” He goes quiet. I'm unsure which he has said no to. Then he says, “You still could come check and make sure everything is in working order.”
I finish my tea and hand Jack my glass. He bends down to the spigot, gives it a short blast of filthy water.
I say, “That's okay, Jack. We have a good arrangement. I don't need to be indebted to you forever.”
Jack shrugs, looking toward the hills. Pulling the towel down he works the corner into the glass to polish it. Jack says, “I know you don't like working Toms.” His head points. “Like that one inside. Just a tourist. Passing through. Now with his face plastered to the table because he thought he could ply you with a few drinks.”
I'm looking at the ground. The ants are back en-masse. Back to worship this humming deity. I'm almost pleased to have restored their continuity perhaps their existence.
I shake my head to clear it of Jack’s merciless words.
Turning away, I step towards the hills. They are the first leg of my journey into the mountains. This thought tires me. I'm not looking at Jack. So, just to be certain he can see I'm leaving, I shout, “I'll see you tonight, Jack. Take care of yourself.”
I need to get away from the heat.
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
The sun blinds me. I try to look away, it reflects off the residue of dew on everything around me. It's not making this easy for me. Sweat on the coils of the AC is mocking me. I can't decide if it’s just the dew or if it’s another indicator.
I have to look up to relieve my eyes. What should be a pretty sky with its blue-red reminds me that I have to hurry. My eyes wash across the lesser moon that looms ever large in the sky. I know it won't be visible much longer with the clouds coming. I already feel the humidity the clouds bring with them.
With longing I glance at the remaining dew. I lick my lips feeling the dews fragility knowing New Terra is unable to embrace it. Our big mother star burns it off and tosses it back into the air around us. I can feel her smothering comfort rolling down my flesh. It's making me feel parched, squeezing me dry to burn my sweat from my skin. It's been less than an hour of sun, yet I feel as though its mid day.
I wipe my forehead with the thin sleeve of my chenille overcoat. My eyes watch it change color under the light. This distracts me from the affectation of my skin. I feel as comfortable as I can in this heat, having cast off my barmaids outfit in exchange for a sports bra and short shorts. I'd be more comfortable without the overcoat, but modesty prevents that. Not too much modesty though, I have left it unbuttoned.
I contemplate going back inside the bar with Jack, but it's going to get worse inside with the AC broken. I could make Jack come out here to do this. Then he'd have to completely replace the whole thing. I'm trying to help him avoid that. I look down upon my work.
Ants are dancing on the clots of fractured clay around the air conditioner. Seeming unperturbed by its spurious attempts to restart then die and restart again. Though, they have dissipated considerably since I shut the AC down completely.
I finish bleeding the system. It hasn't leaked out but it acts like it’s blocked somewhere. It could be one of these ants or a whole colony. The seals on this thing are worn enough to invite intrusion.
I carefully pull the reclamation canister and my rigged filter off the assembly. Hooking up the can of compressed air I give the system a good blow. I can hear the problem, Jack would likely not. It quickly disappears as whatever was there breaks loose and hits the palm of my hand. I'm thinking we're not out of the woods yet. Feeling uncertainty of the future, I make the sign of the cross and say a few Hail Marys. That could be sacrilegious, because I don't consider myself religious. Everything looks good to my eye. Well, as good as it can. I need to recharge the system.
First I cap it and test some pressure on it.
It's a bust. I mean a real bust. The leak is so evident I see the few remaining ants being blown hither and yon. Normally I'd give the wrench a good toss. I've not been using the wrench for fear of making things worse.
I ask myself why I'm doing this.
Turning at the sound of the back door opening fortuitously I can see Jack's head sticking out. He squints under the sun. He says, “Angie, how we doing out here?”
Stepping back from my work and looking at Jack, I say, “Hot, sticky. This damn stuff is worn beyond its warranty period by almost a decade. Could use some better sealant. A few new parts.”
Jack steps out. I watch as he shifts his slightly rotund midsection. After some difficulty he's standing on the stoop with the door shut. He's round not fat, but definitely not buff like the Tom's who strut around the bar. He looks to me to be in thought before he does a half dance with the door again to make a hasty retreat. I hear his grunting and grumbling as he disappears and the door closes. I'm thinking he can't stand the heat. But, his head comes out again. This time he lands in the sand. The door slams itself.
With a sheepish expression he offers me a bag.
He also offers a glass of amber liquid.
I wave a hand and say, “Thanks. You know I don't drink that stuff.”
I’m clutching my chenille together in front. I’d have to let go to grab both. I turn my back towards him as I take the sack.
Jack waves his hand pointing at the glass and says, “It's tea, with sugar, the way you like it.”
Embarrassed at my own lack of trust, I take the tea from his huge fist.
I set the bag down and look inside. It contains everything I need to do this job proper. I give Jack a well deserved harsh look. I say, “Great, make me do this twice. Where were you hiding this?”
Checking the ground for ants, I stomp around a bit. I sit. The ground feels cool. That's not good. That means I'm warmer than it is. I sip the tea slowly. "Thanks Jack, I really needed this tea."
Jack shrugs, wiping his fingers on the towel draped over his shoulder. He says, “Yeah, Sorry. I'm bad. I know. But, I listen and I picked this up a week ago. Figured it was due to quit soon.”
I pull my feet closer to me until my hiking boots touch where my bare thighs meet the hem on my shorts. Taking a very short break I touch the cool glass against my legs then I move my feet away to make room. Feeling contorted I try to reach the bag so I can I pour the parts in my lap. Flattening it on the ground I carefully lay the parts upon the bag in a row.
Feeling light headed and giddy for a number of reasons including the heat I exclaim, “Wow. All shiny and new. I hope this doesn't come out of my paycheck.”
I start to work again, this time I take up the wrench.
Jack says, "Only if you mess it up and I have to buy more parts." I watch him step into the little shadow offered by the structure of the bar. His gaze falls out across the desolation toward the line of trees that mark the lower edge of the mountains.
I look into the sky, looking for clouds. To me they are as scarce now as the ants are at night. I know that at night the clouds sink down covering the ground like a cottony blanket. The sun comes up to burn these away in short order. For a number of hours the moisture hangs in the air before clouds return like a colony of ants. I feel the need to hurry. I'm already overheated.
I catch Jack following my gaze, he says, “If this takes too long I can make an exception. Let you use that cot in back.”
I recall the first time Jack made such an offer. I'm not sure what he expected to get out of it. Whatever, he didn't get it. I feel comfortable with Jack though, you only have to say no once with him. With confused and possibly misplaced disappointment I recall he hasn't made such an offer since. But, I've been diligent about getting home early.
Huffing a couple of times, I stop to sip at my sweet tea. I look at Jack. I say, “Na, That's okay. I'll get home just fine. It's much cooler up in the mountains.”
Jack nods. As I work I can feel him become focused on his observation of my own intent process. He says, “Where and how did you learn to fix stuff?”
This is not the first time Jack's asked this. I say, “I dunno, it just came to me one day.” I stop and think about that. I'm certain each time I give him the same answer.
I hear Jack scoff. He half laughs and says, “Yeah, sure, don't tell me. You could go to town, take the test, and get licensed. No longer have to deal with the Tom’s here. I'm just say'in you'd have a good chance at a better career.”
I finish my work, check for leaks, fill the line, and bleed the air from the system. Everything is sealed and tight. Gathering Jacks tools, supplies, and decadent parts I stuff them into the bag and wipe my hands on the bag.
I see Jack raise his eyebrows. I nod, and watch him slip back inside. In short-order the conditioner comes on and begins to cycle. I wait and watch. After some moments, feeling some relief, I stand. I look to the door.
Jack’s hanging half in and half out. His gyrations are giving me a headache. I think he's torn about doing something or rushing in to enjoy the cooler air.
I wave and say, “She's all good.”
I see Jack decide and he falls upon me giving me a fatherly hug before I can move. He says, “You do good work.”
I shrug out of his grasp, put some distance between us. I do like the way he refrains from adding, for a clone, at the end of that sentence though.
Jack’s arms fall to his sides. He grins, “I'm serious. About schooling. I'd help pay for it. If you was my daughter …”
I shake my head, I say, “You'd miss me. Maybe you need to get yourself a real daughter.” As I think about that and what he tried that first night I think, maybe not.
Jack waves his hand. He says, “Na.” He goes quiet. I'm unsure which he has said no to. Then he says, “You still could come check and make sure everything is in working order.”
I finish my tea and hand Jack my glass. He bends down to the spigot, gives it a short blast of filthy water.
I say, “That's okay, Jack. We have a good arrangement. I don't need to be indebted to you forever.”
Jack shrugs, looking toward the hills. Pulling the towel down he works the corner into the glass to polish it. Jack says, “I know you don't like working Toms.” His head points. “Like that one inside. Just a tourist. Passing through. Now with his face plastered to the table because he thought he could ply you with a few drinks.”
I'm looking at the ground. The ants are back en-masse. Back to worship this humming deity. I'm almost pleased to have restored their continuity perhaps their existence.
I shake my head to clear it of Jack’s merciless words.
Turning away, I step towards the hills. They are the first leg of my journey into the mountains. This thought tires me. I'm not looking at Jack. So, just to be certain he can see I'm leaving, I shout, “I'll see you tonight, Jack. Take care of yourself.”
I need to get away from the heat.
Copyright 2012 J.L. Dobias
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