Firefly E2: The Train Job

Episode 2 of Firefly gets us more action and surprises and a bit less of the backgrounds as before. The show opening tells us more of the history of this universe in a condensed version.

We see Mal, Zoe, and Jayne in a tavern playing Chinese checkers. A brawl insues between Alliance soldiers – retired? – and the Serenity away team. The crew is hired to rob a train after a nasty run-in with the Alliance goons and a quick save by Wash.

Nightmare from River. River displays her massive intelligence. We see the Simon and his sister interact more with the crew – “Mal. Bad.”

The away team meets the client for the job. He flexes his reputation of nastiness, but only if a job is not completed. The job, take two Alliance boxes from the train to this renezvous point. I smell a future enemy here.

Interlude with Sheperd and the companion.

Why are the goods not guarded?

Jayne, Simon, and Kaylee discuss the job with River listening in. The train job proves to be sticky and Mal and Zoe have to pose as a married couple looking for work. The cargo and regiment aimed to unload on Paradiso. The landing, however, is on Malady. They get a first-hand look at a non-Alliance planet struggling to survive. The Serenity crew steals the cargo, right under the Alliance’s nose but at the cost of injury to Jayne.

Some discussion about leaving Mal and Zoe behind. I like Jayne despite him going rogue commander. Simon takes care of this and it took me a second to realize why Jayne was speaking nonsense.

The cargo isn’t for Paradiso but Malady. Crap. The companion arrives to rescue Mal and Zoe. The companion has legit files of indentured service by Mal. Leaving the cargo because that’s the right thing to do.

Niska sends his goons to collect on the fee or the bounty. “There is no even.” Some struggle, favoring the Serenity side. Nice save by Jayne. As always, Jayne comes through. Slurring, he says, “I was aiming for his head.”

Serenity crew drops the cargo. The sheriff sees them drop it. Talk about choices. “A man has a choice.” “I don’t believe he does.”

Head goon says, “Keep the money. You can use it to buy your funeral.” Bye bye goon. Next goon agrees to take the money back to Niska.

The Alliance captain talks to somebody about the theft. It’s not about the cargo. We get the ending of 2 men looking for – duh duh duh – this girl, sliding a picture of River forward.

I like the crew interactions, some more depth. I like the addition of danger to the crew. We see a two-sided struggle get deeper and morph into some odd 2 on 2 on 2 on 2, where your enemy isn’t exactly my ally and my enemy isn’t exactly as bad as my new enemies.

Flash Fiction: Master Transfer

Tiber took his first vigil since the initial set-up weeks ago. The transfer house in the Groenhou district was carefully guarded from outside attention. Interior inspection would reveal many luxuries unknown to colonial Arlington abroad. Local science provided some inventions. The remainder came from society members.

As a sensitive and local member of the Johannes Society, Tiber performed his duty with the utmost care.  The room was large enough for what it held. He examined the vessels, checking for any neglect by another sensitive during his absence.  Vessels intact. Levels normal. Master download approaching completion. Everything was satisfactory for the moment.

Tiber checked his pocket watch.  Hanse was due back eight minutes ago.  The docks situation must be worse than reported.  As if responding to Tiber’s worry, the wireless clicked to life.  He went to the recently moved station to review the message.  He read, “BH routed.  Progress on GG uncertain.  X.”  BH would be the Black Hats, GG the Grey Gentlemen, and X was Xarsi.  Interesting.  Xarsi was positioned a few blocks from the Duringham station, yet not nearly as close to the docks.  Tiber tore the ticker paper and placed it in the fireplace.

Tiber sensed the Master stirring. Tiber checked the provisions at the table, making sure he had enough ready, before moving back to the transfer station, cloak and cane in hand.

“Master, are you well,” he asked.

“I am, Tiber. Thank you.”

———————-

Jaspar, certain the transfer was complete, waited for the upload to finish. He could not yet see. His limbs functioned, so he reached for the jack. Expecting a 3.5mm stem, he paused. He took more care with this jack, as it was almost larger than he could grasp with one hand. He pushed the release, twisted the stem, and pulled it out slowly.

Less than a minute later, his eyesight was normal. Lacking a heads-up, he assessed the room. Small. Colonial. The walls and furnishings were made of wood, brass and some tin. A fireplace crackled on a far wall. To the right, an old time Wall Street ticker sat silently next to a telegraph on a butcher block table. A larger, similar table occupied the middle of the room, just behind a man in a sharp brown suit and derby. Jaspar knew him from his waxed mustache.

“Master, are you well?”

“I am, Tiber. Thank you.”

“I have sundries here. Do you require anything else?”

Jaspar attempted to stand out of the transfer cell but paused. He was suddenly out of breath. He needed food and water now.

“Master,” Tiber asked.

“I’m okay.” Tiber raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine.”

Jaspar took the cloak and cane from Tiber and allowed the man to help him to the table. Lack of a heads-up meant it was possible the virus did not come back with him. He still questioned the efficacy of the filters. He would speak to Alexjandra when she released.

“How long before hers is complete,” he asked Tiber.

“Less than an hour, it would seem.”

Jaspar ate. Tiber replaced some of the empty plates with full ones. He refilled the water and offered wine. Jaspar held up a hand and shook his head.

“Where are the other society members,” Jaspar asked.

“They are all performing other duties.”

Jaspar cleared his throat. “Protocol requires at least three members in the transfer house at all times.”

Tiber answered firmly. “Apologies, master. We have encountered more turmoil in the past month than previous. Two new rebel factions wish to compete for what we have gained.”

“Hmmph.”

———————-

Tiber attended to the other vessel. Jaspar didn’t like the general quite of the room, though that was disrupted by the slamming of doors elsewhere in the house. A young man burst into the room, nearly losing his goggles in the process.

“Hanse, what has happened,” Tiber asked.

The youth nervously adjusted his leather long coat. “Pardon me, Master Tiber. Master Jaspar. The Black Hats were in retreat when an unknown band ambushed our party. I snuck away at the first opportunity.”

“Where are they?”

“I left them in the Flagstone district.”

“Do you have the satchels?”

“I had to leave them in an abandoned alleyway. I made sure they were well hidden.”

“Please fetch food for the mistress, young man. She will be along at any moment,” Tiber said after studying the boy. Hanse nodded.

“What was in the satchels,” Jaspar asked after Hanse left.

“No time for that, master. I suspect Hanse was infiltrated.”

“Impossible. The technology does not exist yet. Unless…”

“It would seem so, master. Petyr had the satchels and was not in the same party as Hanse. The boy is lying as there is no way he could have had them. Or have hidden them.”

“Vigilance, my good man.” Jaspar took up his cane as he finished the last bits of roast on his plate.

The two men watched the door, waiting for Hanse to return. Tiber could not stay as the second vessel was ready. The men heard her breathe. Jaspar did his best to stand but needed the cane to remain steady.

Alejandra opened her eyes.

“You won’t be able to see yet,” Jaspar told her. “How do you feel?”

She only grunted. She reached behind her head with both hands just as Hanse returned.

“Food,” she said in a low voice.

After putting most on the table, Hanse brought one of the plates to her. Her eyes grew wide. She had the jack out. A sudden, sharp energy surrounded her, illuminating everything in yellow.

“Alejandra,” Jaspar said.

Hanse looked ready to wet himself as he stepped back. Her cover fell but she did not notice or care if she did.

“Mistress,” Tiber said, offering a cloak similar to Jaspar’s. She did not turn her gaze from Hanse.

She uttered, “Uthen,” as she reached, hands out, to Hanse. Some of that yellow energy crossed from her to him.

“Tiber run,” Jaspar said.

“Master?”

“It’s the virus. She’s just infected him with the Technophage.”

First pages

Something new for me and to the blog is First Pages. Based on something I read about an author ( I do not recall who ), I am working on some first pages. When a first page appears, it will be a quick draft of, you guessed it, a first page. I will revisit each to hone and perfect the writing until I am satisfied. Any and all comments are welcome. My goal is to strengthen my story opening skills. If any of these become real stories, cool. If not, hey, whatever. As I note in the First Pages page, ideas and characters might overlap. Names will get recycled for certain. Link below or use the one at the top. http://wp.me/P31vkg-3Q

“Weird Al” Yankovic: An Essay in Three Parts

We went to see Al about a week ago. I needed to put this down after realizing he’s been performing for close to 3 decades. This is going to be lengthy, so I split it in 3 and because of the different phases of my life this represents.

My first exposure to Al was in grade school. It was bring music to music class day.  Someone brought this record (yes we had albums; not sure if cassettes were available yet; I know they were by high school) with a song that sounded conspicuously like “Beat It” by Michael Jackson.  I asked a buddy who it was; part of the fun was we could guess who and what as part of the learning. My buddy said Crazy Al. I know I thought who the heck was Crazy Al? This was before I’d heard of parodies.

The song was “Beat It” and it was very quirky. Within the next year or two, we would get cable at home. I couldn’t tell you what year that music class was, 2nd or 3rd grade, but I know it was after ’82 when we first had cable. MTV brought a whole new world to my eyes. I had only seen cable TV at other people’s homes, so I was at their mercy of what we watched. At first, I watched a lot of Nickelodeon – You Can’t Do That On Television, Out Of Control, The Tomorrow People, and then the younger shows my sisters wanted to watch. But MTV provided music, in rotation no less, and a visual representation of what I heard. It tied much of movies and other entertainment into music – WWF with Cyndi Lauper (and the Goonies), James Bond with Duran Duran, and, at a stretch of matches, Michael Jackson with “Weird Al” Yankovic.

The first video was “Beat It,” naturally. This was followed by “Like A Surgeon,” “Dare To Be Stupid,” (which leads into the Transformers movie) “Fat,” and classics like “I Lost on Jeopardy” and “I Love Rocky Road.” “This Is the Life” was Al’s first soundtrack song, tying into Johnny Dangerously with Michael Keaton and Joe Piscopo. Moving to the end of the 80s, I lost interest in Al, moving to more serious tastes.

Then CDs became the new media for music. I had started listening to the Dr. Demento show on Sunday nights. On nights when I had to sleep before 10pm, I popped a cassette in my CD/cassette box to record the show. I usually caught most of the show. And that’s where I heard Al again. Little did I know, Al had quite a boost from Dr. Demento. Off the Deep End was Al’s new release and one of the first three CDs I purchased. The other two were Garth Brooks and Hammer (he’d lost the MC by then.) I spent hours remixing the Al songs with the songs he parodied. Ah, the mix tape. Not the traditional version mind you. This was the DJ version, not the I love you kind.

Al had new hits on his hands and I played that CD until I burned out again. I was a fan of the Dr Demento show and it was about this time that Al’s music was showing it could outlast the artists he parodied. UHF.

It would be the mid-90s before I returned seriously to Al again.

Part 2 coming…

Violent Torpedo of Publishing Truth – Final Stop

It’s been a wild and crazy ride these last few weeks. We’ve learned how to self-publish(and why it’s the best option), how to gain buzz when it comes to marketing, how to land a sweet cover for free and Kim Kardashian is pregnant. Though I’ll dare not take the blame for that one(I was careful).

I promised you the official tour T-shirt and a big announcement.
I’ll do even better.

How about several items(now available for purchase). Some branded with the tour logo, while others are just branded baby! http://www.johndavisbooks.wordpress.com

Now, on to the big announcement. For the rest of the internet world, the reveal for my upcoming book Zombietown is scheduled for Friday. But, EXCLUSIVE TO THIS BLOG, I’m revealing it right now!

I’ve enclosed the official cover for my friend Troy, and am about to spill some details on the series that already has a list of readers trying to pre-order:
As the Northern Flu begins to cause death worldwide, scientists rush to create a vaccination. Having killed 73% of our population, the vaccine is finally released into the general population, though it is done so with a huge shortage of supply.
The Northern Flu was thought to be the plague which would end our world. But we were wrong. The vaccine itself carries side effects much worse than death, altering those who were vaccinated to a Zombie-like state.
They are not living dead, but rather a rage-filled vessel of bone and flesh. They do not seek to kill the survivors for brains, but merely because they are incapable of anything else. They die like we do, though it normally takes a direct impact to the skull.
Zombietown will be centered around the lives of the surviving 7%, as they try to rebuild. And though there will be plenty of horrific slashing, Zombietown is different than most Zombie novels for a couple of reasons. A thick of the story will be based on the struggles of survivors who don’t always agree. Old relationships strained while new relationships begin. And a lot of the story will be written in third person through journal entries, which is something a bit new to the genre.

I’m actually retreating this summer to a cabin the family and I have taken over. Wide open woods, pond, etc. Great place to escape the distractions of life, and a very nice place to focus on making Zombietown a solid read. Look for it this December!

Special thanks to Troy for allowing me a spot on his blog.

Flash Fiction: The Secret Door

The catcher went dormant for an hour after dropping us in this tunnel. I had no idea where the catcher had taken us. Its source of power was a mystery; I had none and neither did it so far as I knew.

I tested it to see if I could move while it waited. Still, nothing. I sensed a bit of stubbornness.  I tried emptying my mind. I concentrated on nothing. When it was ready, we moved. Nothing in my ability affected this.

We walked forward in the dark.  Its sight was eyeless and also, somehow, independent of any available light. The details were there but not distinct.  I could see tracks, mine cart or railroad, leading into a deep tunnel.  There was no light as far as we could see, no exit to the outside.  I imagined the air was cool as well, but temperature was not a factor as long as the catcher enveloped me.

We trudged on.  The direction we trod was moot.  I looked for clues as we went.  We were alone, or it would speed its progress toward a new host.  Just a slow, steady walk.  All I could do on my own was think and how much of that was being guided?  How much had been filtered to suit its purpose?

I’d started counting after our 3rd step.  I was in the thousands when the first pinprick of light was visible.  It appeared as normal light, brightening as we made it closer.  The tracks were not immaculate and in dire need of maintenance.

I could not feel the warmth of the desert we entered from the tunnel, but I could see the wavering of heat rising from the rocky, sandy ground.  The tracks went straight from the tunnel but veered to the right now.  Our path was the same from the tunnel, moving to some unseen landmark.

The landscape was hilly and uneven.  I theorized the catcher would begin to see mirages as we went.  We crested a second hill when I saw what I assumed was a mirage.  Another figure was coming toward us, mirrored exactly, step for step.  Its body was just as smooth, just as dull grey as this one.  Simultaneously, the catchers ran at each other.  There should have been a collision.  We stopped within arm’s reach of each other.  The mirror effect would only make sense if what was ahead really matched what was behind. The only duplicate was the two catchers.

We reached out a right arm, touching the other’s left shoulder. It did the same.  I did not notice the significance of that until later.  Seconds felt like hours. Nothing else was visible other than the shimmer, but I felt a difference.  A seemingly seamless transition of one parasite to the other host was nearly complete.  Where I felt calm before, I felt a strong anger now.  It would not show me why I should be angry.  I knew it could not read my mind or thoughts, only feelings.  It brought these feelings with it from its former host.

It put aside its anger to show me its past.  These sights were different from what the other catcher showed me. From its memories, I could tell it was not the parasite I had unwillingly assumed and just as unwillingly shed.  It would not show me who its former host had been, but it was ready to show me these other details.  I could not tell if these were past or future, memories or visions.

This catcher tracked down Galen and forced him to let it feed on him.  It fed but did not attach.  This allowed it use of his powers, even briefly.  It followed him to Guerra’s stronghold.  Galen planned to take the power from Guerra’s men and captives just as he had taken back the power he had given me.  Galen fled to Earth when this catcher prevented him from stealing more power.

I didn’t quite get that.  I had been taken twice now and I didn’t feel any weaker now than I was before the first catcher attached to me.  Other than the lack of my powers and the catchers’ imprisoning of my free will, I was just the same as I had been a week ago.  Either I had a stronger life force from this or they did not feed on me.  This one must have the ability to read my mind because it showed me an image of me before and after my powers were given.  If neither fed on me, what was the design for me?

The next image, more silent video than picture, was of West Eastboro.  It moved fast toward the strip mall.  I could see Betty.  She was Galen’s captive.  His left arm restrained her while he held his glowing right hand at her throat.  It was twilight and in the low light the blue glow of his power showed me the fear in her face.  She was crying.  He could fry her at a whim.

Galen yelled at the catcher.  I was horrible at reading lips so I didn’t even try to guess what he said.  If this was a vision, I need to stop him.  Everything I had seen in my mind this last week was memory.  The scene shifted.  There was smoke and debris.  In the rubble of the mall’s buildings, I could see my broken body.  I was dying if not dead.  The view moved away from my body and toward Galen.  Betty was in a heap on the ground.  He was smoldering a little but otherwise not hurt.  The vision stopped there.

I had to get to Betty to make sure she was safe.  I had to stop Galen.  But how could I do that if I was dead?

Second snow of spring, part 2

I was going to post a picture of today’s landscape out back but it looks the same, minus snow on the alley. We had more snow today, but just enough to know it was happening. No accumulation snow is much nicer.