Does whatever a spider can

Spider-man is probably my favourite superhero, closely followed by Batman. Whilst Batman is the dark, brooding vigilante, brutal in his dealings with villains, yet possessing an incredible intellect, Spidey was always fun, always ready with the quip. Sure, he's had his dark moments over the years (why oh why, Marvel, did you have to split him and MJ up? Why I ask you!), most recently with the death of Ultimate Spider-man, but there's just something about a character who winds up his foes to take them off guard, that I love.

Yet in recent years, he's been done a disservice in the video game world. Whilst Batman has had two fantastic games in the form of Arkham Asylum and Arkham City, Spider-man has had Web of Shadows, Shattered Dimensions and Edge of Time, none of which I felt were more than above average. Admittedly, I can't talk about Edge of Time, having not played it, but I have played the others.

Web of Shadows had an awful story, with the most whiny Peter Parker I've ever seen. Yet despite that, the web swinging mechanics were on par with Spider-man 2 on the Xbox (though bizarrely didn't connect with anything, unlike the Xbox game), and the most fun I had in the entire game was found in web swinging across the city. Being able to catapult myself off one webline, fly through the air and continue on another was pure joy.

Shattered Dimensions had a better (if still silly) story, far better voice acting (what other spider-man game brought spidey voice actors together from the various tv-series?), and the web swinging was still excellent, and the combat much improved.

But it lacked something. One of the things I loved about Spider-man 2 and Web of Shadows, was the big, open city I could swing around in. Whilst Batman works brilliantly in confined areas, being a character better suited for creeping up on unsuspecting enemies and taking them down, Spidey belongs in the city.

So I'm quite thrilled to see that the new game, linked to the new movie, is returning to the big apple. I am also worried - let's face it, Spider-man 2 aside, games based on movies are rarely any good. My fingers shall remain firmly crossed that it be good.

I have but one request. Beenox, I doubt you'll ever read this, or dismiss it if you do, but don't over complicate the combat controls. That's one area that Arkham Asylum/City perfected. Don't rely on complex button combinations to activate moves. It gets in the way of the fun of playing a superhero. Give me a button for attack, a button for counter, and a button for a web stun attack. The other web attacks (like say, the ability to web an enemy and yank them toward you) could be activated by holding down a trigger or a bumper, and pressing X, Y or B.


Ps. if you can get Josh Keaton to voice Spidey again, that would be awesome.

New Look

So, I got bored with the old look, and decided it was time to update. I think it looks quite nice, actually. Very futuristic and clean.

It's pretty dull outside here in Leicester, and I'm rather hoping it doesn't rain. The forecasters said it would, but let's face it, you can't trust them. They mean well, but half the time, they couldn't forecast their way out of a paper bag. It's not their fault; they can only work with the information they're given.

And this is where the rain that was forecasted does happen, and I get soaked on my way home.

Anyway, had a very productive day yesterday. Managed to hammer out nearly 1,400 words of Serial Psyence, during which, people were shot, subjected to explosive decompression, and a girl saw herself die. It sounds horrible I know, but considering the subject matter - a serial killer - what do you expect? I'm quite pleased with how it went, though after reading up on the effects of vacuum on the human body, I realise it needs a bit of work. Nevermind, I had lots of fun writing it. Which makes me sound a bit sick. Bugger.

On the plus side, the story is progressing very well, and I'm making much better progress than I was with the flashbacks. I don't know why, but I feel much more comfortable with a setting I'm completely unfamiliar with. whenever I try using a setting I know, I just seem to falter, as what I know about the place conflicts with what I'm trying to imagine. Using a setting that's wholly imaginary (like an arcology on Callisto) is so much easier.

Nine weeks into my new job now! That's gone quick. Only four more weeks until Christmas. Have I done my Christmas shopping yet? No. That's planned for this weekend, when I'm going shopping in Birmingham with Heather. She has decided she wants clothes for Christmas, and personally, I don't trust myself to buy the right ones. And so I'm off clothes shopping. Yay?

Long time no see

Wow, it's been a while since my last post. Almost a month, even.

I'd like to say it's because I've been uber busy, having started a new job, and getting a major publishing deal ... but that would be a lie.

Okay, the new job thing isn't a lie. Still no publishing deal though. Ah well, what matters is people like Liberator's Ruin.

So what have I been doing? The truth is, not a lot. I've played games (Batman, Dark Souls and MW3 - all brilliant), and worried about lack of money. Which, considering I've bought three games in the past month, you might consider a little odd, but I have lots of credit with Blockbusters at the moment, so no actual money was spent on their purchase.

I've also been getting on with Serial Psyence. Now that the plan is finished, I've started writing the flashbacks which run over the course of the main story. I'm not sure how well it's going at the moment. I'm almost 11,000 words in, and it feels like 11,000 words of utter rubbish - that's what I get for having hardly written a word in 6 months - and it's highly likely that the first 15,000 or so will be trashed, but we'll see how I feel once it's all finished. I'm quite looking forward to writing the main story. I've never written a crime thriller before, so it should be interesting.

Depending on how things go, I may post some sketches in the future, detailing the arcology the story takes place in.

Oh, and anyone waiting for the next part of that piece I started a few months ago, you may have to wait a while longer. I will finish it, I promise!

Once I work out where it's going.

3D is so overrated

I'm quite good at backing the wrong horse. I had this shoved in my face in big, neon letters when I went to the dog races for Heather's Grandad's birthday (now there's an awkward sentence - moving on!).

I bet on about four or five races, and did I win a thing? No. There's a reason why I don't gamble: I never win.

Turns out, I do the same with tech, too. First it was the Gamecube. Not many games. Most were good - brilliant even, when you get things like Metroid Prime - but there weren't many. I bought one.

Then HD DVD. There I was, thinking the tech was just as good, if not better than blue ray, except Sony, being the (mostly) smart buggers they are, bunged a blue ray played in the PS3. So most people instantly had a HD drive. And voila, blue ray won (fortunately, I bought a blue ray player after the dust had settled).

Now it's the 3DS. When it came out, I was justifiably excited. Having played on one in game, I could see how amazing it was. Then I bought one, with ghost recon and pilotwings. After a while, I forgot the 3D was even there, so I wasn't getting much of a benefit. Every now and then, I'd go, 'oooh,' but they got less frequent. I got Zelda, and hardly played it. It's one of my favourite games, yet I can't be bothered. In seven months, I've barely touched my 3DS. I took it on holiday with me, then spent most of my time playing games on my iphone.

The problem is twofold. There aren't many games. Yes, I know it's only been out for seven months, and the DS took a good couple of years to pick ip (hell, even the xbox 360 only had a few games for a year), but there's hardly anything in development that I'm interested in. Then there's the price. 3DS games cost around £30 - £40 each. I could buy an xbox game for that! The great thing about DS games was that they at most cost £30, but you could always find them for £20 or less.

These days I'm limited in my games buying, so I can only pick up a full price game once every couple of months. Inbetween, I might splash on an XBL Arcade game, or a pre-owned or sale game, but I can't justify paying out for a lot of games any more.

So that's it. I'm selling off my 3DS, and the money is going toward an iPad instead. It's got plenty of games, and there are often sales, where games go for dirt cheap (I recently picked up a couple of Gameloft games for £0.59 each). Plus, if I get a keyboard case, I can use the iPad for productivity.

I still have my Xbox 360, and that's my go-to machine for most of my gaming these days (Akham City next Friday!)

I think devices like the iPad are the future of mobile gaming - but what do I know? I always back the wrong horse!

A visionary has been lost

I was shocked to turn on the news this morning and learn that Steve Jobs had passed away, aged 56.

Say what you will about his business practices, his draconian ruling of Apple, but the man was a true visionary, and should be remembered for the technology he enabled. without him, would we have today's smartphones, or even tablets like the ipad?

I find it incredibly touching that even his greatest rival from the 80s and 90s, Bill Gates, passed on his condolences, saying that he was honoured to have known him.

My heartfelt condolences to his family for their loss.

Rest in peace, Steve Jobs 1955 - 2011.

I just don't know

Do I want an iPad? Should I get one?

I don't know. The geek in me (read all of me, including that little fingernail that rolls its fictional eyes whenever I get stuck on the topic of geeky stuff) says yes. At the moment, I have a really underpowered netbook. I'm not kidding. If I try to do much more than writing on it, it has a fit and sits in the corner until I leave it alone. Browsing websites is a chore, and watching digital movies is a nausea-inducing exercise (ever been in a nightclub when the lights start blinking on and off rapidly, so that people look like they're moving jerkily? Yeah, bit like that).

I know what you'll say. Get a new laptop! Which is a good idea. My only problem is that the sort of new laptop I want, means spending upwards of £600 to get.

With the release of IOS5 later this year, an ipad is only getting more enticing. No more needing to tether the thing to a pc! Proper multi-tasking! I would still need a pc to do a lot of things with my book, especially when editing the file to get it ready to publish, though that's something I can use my current laptop for. And I could do a lot of writing on the ipad - as long as I got an external keyboard, essentially turning it into a netbook.

The problem is, I've been getting a bit annoyed with my iphone of late. Admittedly, a lot of that has to do with the fact that it's so damn slow, being a 3GS. It's put me off having another iphone (that and the signal issue, of course).

The question is, what do I use my laptop for?
Internet browsing (reading the latest news, writing to this blog, making online purchases)
Watching videos
Writing

That's about it, really. And I can do all of that on an ipad, only switching back to the pc when it's time to edit. Hell, I already use my phone to browse the internet and watch videos, due to the aforementioned reasons.

My phone is due for an upgrade sometime over the next 6 months, so when I get rid of the iphone, maybe I'll put some of the money toward an ipad.

We'll see.

No time like the present

Well! The final edition of Liberator's Ruin has finally been submitted to Amazon and Smashwords, and should now be live.


What's so different about this edition I hear you ask? It turns out my editing wasn't quite as good as I thought it was. Whilst the edit itself is fine, I missed an awful lot of typos. Far more than I thought I had. But with the help of some very kind people on Goodreads, I should have got them all now! I'm ashamed that I let such a shoddy copy get published, but at least that's one thing I can finally let go.

Mosey on over to Amazon or Smashwords to download a copy. Samples are free!

I'm working hard on the plan for Serial Psyence at the moment, so hoping to starting writing it by the end of October. It's going well. I think I finally passed the halfway mark today, so the main plot is starting to heat up (there are two plots running parallel in the story).

We've almost finished moving out now. After over a month since we first got the keys to the new flat. We're having to downsize from a 3-bed maisonette to a 2-bed flat, so some things are going to be stored in a parent's loft for a while. And here I was thinking I'd moved out of my mum's house. Ha!

Maybe one day.

What I'm listening to at the moment: Deus Ex: Human Revolution Soundtrack. Believe it or not, it's very good. Nice bit of music to listen to whilst planning Serial Psyence.

PS. Anyone waiting for the next update to We Should Have Run, it's coming. I just have to sit and write it ...

We Should've Run: Part 2

It's taken me a few weeks to actually sit down and work on this, but I have been planning Serial Psyence. And playing Deus Ex: Human Revolution. It's awesome, and time consuming, and far too distracting.

Anyway, here's part two.

The Cat’s Eye had half a dozen spacesuits. Each suit consisted of a single piece, tear-resistant bodysuit, to which was attached plates of impact armour; the suit provided no protection from kinetic trauma. A chest plate with a wide collar attached to the torso, containing the suit’s power supply and air recyclers in a small backpack unit, as well as a small thruster unit. They were big and bulky, and in a way, a lot like the Cat’s Eye: old but well maintained, having seen plenty of use during midflight repairs to the ship’s superstructure. Lorenzo was loath to replace them, even though there were better, less bulky models on the market. But he just couldn’t bring himself to get rid of them, despite his crew’s protestations. Although, considering the way the suit pinched, he was beginning to consider coming round to their way of thinking.

Once he was suited up, Lorenzo put on his shell helmet. Everything went dark, then there was a hiss as the suit sealed. An array of activation lights lit up, and the faceplate cleared. Yeven was staring at him, holding out an SIPC. He gave his sensors officer a thumbs up, and took the rifle, clipping it to his chest.

‘Ready?’ Lorenzo asked.

‘Aye Captain,’ came the replies through his suit comm.

The three moved into the airlock, the door sealing behind them. Lorenzo watched his tactical display as the airlock cycled, and once the external pressure dropped to zero, he opened the hatch.

The Cat’s Eye was holding station three hundred metres away from the ragged hole in the side of Sintra station. Two external lights were focused on it, but he could barely make out anything. With luck, they would find an entrance point in there.

‘Captain,’ Katria’s voice spoke in his ear. ‘I’m burning a lot of delta v holding position with the station.’

‘Alright. Once we’re clear, drop down to a trailing orbit a thousand kilometres back. We’ll holler if we need you to come get us.’

‘Roger.’

Lorenzo stepped up to the edge of the airlock. He paused for a moment, staring straight at the space station. It was only a few hundred metres, but at right this moment, it could just as well be a hundred thousand. It was impossible to gauge. He took hold of the side of the airlock, and jumped.

Once he was clear, thrusters in his backpack fired, rotating round to stare back at the Cat’s Eye. Both Riko and Yeven had followed him out, and now the three of them floated in a loose formation, steadily retreating from the bulk of the ship.

‘We’re clear, Katria. You’re free to break position.’

‘Roger Captain.’

Bright pinpricks burst to life as the Cat’s Eye’s manoeuvring thrusters fired. The big ship began dropping behind and below them as it turned away. Then the main drive lit up, and the ship rapidly dropped away.

Lorenzo watched it for a little while longer before he fired his thrusters again, reorientating himself back on the station.

With the Cat’s Eye moving away, they had lost the ship’s searchlights, turning the ragged hole they were heading for into a gaping, black maw. Suddenly, Lorenzo’s perception changed, and he was no longer heading toward the station, but it coming for him, to swallow him. Lorenzo’s fingers twitched toward his SIPC.

Twisting his head inside his helmet, he looked away and toward the bulk of Heathcliff. The Station was just heading into the planet’s nightside, the thick bands of storm clouds disappearing into the darkness. When he focused on the station again, it was back to just a blasted, ragged hole of twisted metal and composite.

A glance at his suit telemetry told him that he was now only 50 metres away. Gripping the controls for his suit thrusters, he began firing the jets. Both Yeven and Riko did the same, the trio drifting into the maw at less than a metre per second. Their suit lights came on, playing across the interior.

‘Fuck, it’s like the station was cored with a fusion lance,’ Yeven said.

He was right, Lorenzo saw. In the beams of light, he could see that the surface of the hole looked as though it had been melted. A glance at his display told him that the melted structure wasn’t emitting any radiation. He’d been wrong in his first impression. A compressed muon explosion would never have done this sort of damage. Never so cleanly. It was as if a miniature star had blossomed momentarily against the side of the station, disintegrating everything it came in touch with before it winked out.

As his lights played across the damage, he spotted a corridor, leading deeper into the station. Activating his thrusters, he flew over to it and manoeuvred inside, Yeven and Riko following. Halfway down the corridor, he began to drift toward the floor. Instinctively he brought his legs out to brace for the landing, realising only at the last second that it was the wrong move. His boots touched against the floor and he bounced back up to the ceiling, his helmet knocking against it with a thud. Lorenzo winced and pushed himself back to the deck and activated his boots just as he touched down again. This time he didn’t float back off.

He ignored the grunts of laughter from his two crewmen and stomped off down the corridor, feeling weight return with every step.

‘Still gravity,’ Yeven said. ‘It’s weak, though. You reckon the gravistar is still spinning?’

‘Maybe. That would assume there is still power to it.’

‘Sintra’s got a vacuum motion generator attached to the gravistar. Even if the main reactor goes down, the gravity stays on,’ said Riko as he peered at a melted intercom. He poked it with the finger of one gauntlet and little black flakes erupted out in an expanding cloud.

Both Lorenzo and Yeven turned to look at him.

‘What?’ Riko said defensively. ‘I went on a date with one of the station engineers a while back. Hey, I do have interests outside of the ship, you know. Plus I thought we might get a VMG as a backup, so I wanted to get to know about them.’

‘Was she pretty?’ Yeven asked.

Riko grinned. ‘Yasmin Denehey.’

‘Oh. How’d you manage to pull that off?’

The grin turned malicious. ‘I borrowed a page out of your book.’

‘Cheeky bastard.’

‘Stow it, you two,’ Lorenzo said.

There was a bulkhead door at the end of the corridor, sealed shut. Taking out a sensor wand, Yeven pressed it against the door. ‘No atmo on the other side. I’m guessing it closed when whatever it was exploded, but the compartment vented anyway. Some organic residue on the other side. Can’t tell what. It’s hard to tell, but I think there’s trace atmo further in.’

‘Alright, Riko, see if you can get it open.’

‘You want me to cut it?’

‘No. Let’s see if we can use it as a makeshift airlock.’

‘Got it.’

Moving over to the bulkhead door, Riko braced one foot against the side of the corridor and tugged at the service hatch next to the door. It came away abruptly. He reached inside and pulled on the manual release handle. The doors shifted apart slight, and as Riko continued to pump the handle, they slid back into their recesses.

Once the doors were open enough, Lorenzo, Yeven and Riko moved inside, resealing the hatch behind them. Riko paused as he passed through the airlock, one foot having come down on something uneven. Moving his foot, he looked down.

‘Er, I think I found your organic trace.’

It was a hand. Or what was left of it. The skin was very pale, and covered in a layer of hoarfrost. The thumb was missing, sheared off in whatever incident had removed the hand from the owner.

‘Keep it,’ Yeven said.

‘Now the next one.’ Lorenzo detached his SIPC from his suit and flicked off the safety.

It took another ten minutes to open the second blast door. The manual release had seized up and wouldn’t budge. In the end, Riko took out his SIPC and switched to his under-barrel plasma beam, and cut a hole in the door. Air hissed through as he cut, a torrent that sent globs of molten metal flying.

When the three crewmen climbed through the hole, they found a scene of utter devastation. Light fittings hung from the ceiling, some still flickering on and off. Emergency lights pulsed away on the floor, heading deeper into the station. Conduits in the walls had ruptured, spilling fluids into the corridor, dribbling down the walls and pooling on the deck. Some had frozen the moment they burst, freezing in iridescent water bursts that glittered in their suit lights. There were, fortunately, no bodies.

‘Any signs of life?’ Lorenzo asked.

‘Six decks down, I think,’ Yeven replied, frowning at the readout from his sensor wand.

‘You think?’

‘I’m not sure. There are some readings the deck below, but they’re weird, you know? Like they’re not quite there.’

‘Some trapped, maybe nearly dead?’ Riko suggested.’

Yeven shook his head. ‘No, the sensor read’s biologicals, not life signs. It’s more like it can’t make its mind up.’

‘We’ll take a look as we go,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Let’s move.’

This place gives me the creeps, he thought, but didn’t say it.

*

A short interlude

Well, turns out it wasn't as easy to get back into writing sci fi as I hoped. Not too impressed with my first go at the next scene, but hopefully I'll get it posted soon.

Doesn't help that I went on holiday to Centre Parcs, and we still haven't finished moving.

Right, no more excuses! I'm on holiday from work next week; a perfect time to do some writing. And that's what I'll do.

I hope.

Some other news though! I've just done my very first author interview.

Pop over to jeanzbookreadnreview for a look.

We should've run

Captain Lorenzo Sheldon was strapped in at his station when the Cat’s Eye reverted 10,000 kilometres above Sintra station. The indistinct blue glow of the shuntspace conduit abruptly disappeared, replaced by the harsh light reflected off Heathcliff’s thick atmosphere. There was no sign the tiny pinpricks of distant stars; the immense bulk of the gas giant stretched far beyond the edge of the bridge viewport, giving a fabulous view of streamers of blue and brown and red and cream clouds, tearing across the face of the planet at hundreds of miles per hour. Each one many times the size of the Cat’s Eye, and more than capable of tearing the transport apart were Lorenzo stupid enough to venture into the raging torrent.

           

Ridiculously, he was suddenly struck by the mad urge to hit full thrust and dive into the atmosphere, test his limits and the capabilities of his ship. He could already feel his fingers twitch toward the control pane, ready to input the command that would ignite the primary fusion motors, sending the ship hurtling down toward the planet.

Inevitably, it was the voice of his co-pilot, Katria Fey, which broke him out of the spell. ‘Shunt drive spinning down. Sensors coming online. You want me to open a channel to Sintra, Captain?’

‘Do it,’ Lorenzo said. He shook his head to clear the last few wisps of madness and tore his gaze away from the viewport, concentrating on the sensor data appearing on his panes. Infrared showed few heat sources around Sintra station, which was surprising in itself. There were normally hundreds flitting about the station, most the exhaust plumes from short range tugs and shuttles and the station’s fleet of atmo-miners, either returning from a successful dive into Heathcliff’s atmosphere, their tanks full of HE₃, or on their way out, the big, saucer-shaped craft with their force fields up and riding brilliant lances of plasma. Even more significant, there were no signatures for other ships in the local volume. Sintra was one of a dozen independent HE₃ stations, and made a big trade in fuel and goods. Sometimes, it was difficult to see the station’s heat signature amongst all the other emissions. Except, the sensor was having a hard time differentiating the few sources from Heathcliff.

Lorenzo frowned at the infrared display. A frown that deepened when the radar return matched the infrared. There were very few objects near Sintra station, none more than a hundred metres in length. That was wrong. Very wrong.

Feeling his guts twist, Lorenzo tapped a command into his pane. An alert sounded throughout the ship. Katria glanced at him.

‘Captain?’

‘Something’s not right. Better prepared than not, eh? Do you have that channel for me?’

Nodding, Katria’s fingers danced across her pane, then gave him a thumb’s up.

‘Sintra station, this is Cat’s Eye on approach. Requesting docking permission, over.’ Lorenzo waited a moment, but the only response he got was the low hiss of background static. ‘Repeat, Sintra Station, this is Cat’s Eye. Requesting docking permission. Please respond.’

Still nothing.

He shared a look with Katria. ‘Antenna trouble?’ he asked.

‘Ours is working fine.’

‘I meant with theirs.’

‘Oh. Maybe. They should have a backup array, or a communications laser.’

‘Are they shining anything our way?’

  

Katria shook her head. ‘Not even a dazzle.’

Leaning back in his acceleration couch, Lorenzo scratched his chin. Right now, they were far enough out that they could spool the shunt drive and be gone in ten minutes. If he took them down into the gas giant’s gravity well, then they would be committed. It would take at least three hours to either reverse course or divert onto a parabolic curve that would slingshot them out the other side of the planet.

At the back of the bridge, the hatch hissed open, and Yeven and Riko rushed in, dropping into their stations. The Cat’s Eye’s bridge was typical for its class, laid out in a horseshoe pattern, with pilot and co-pilot at the front, and the other two stations behind at the tips.

‘Tactical and sensors online,’ Yeven said.

‘Engineering up,’ said Riko. ‘What’s going on, Cap?’

‘Nothing good. Yeven, bring the defences up and warm up the pulse cannon.’

‘Aye aye.’

‘Katria, spool up the drive. I want to be ready to jump at a moment’s notice.’

‘Captain, if you’re about to do what I think you are, we can’t shunt in a grav-well.’

‘I know. But spool it anyway. We’re too far out to see what’s wrong with Sintra. And we have friends there. Unless anyone has a good reason why we shouldn’t take a closer look?’

‘Not one you’ll listen to,’ Katria muttered. Lorenzo pretended he hadn’t heard her.

Resting his arms on the edge of the control pane, he sent a series of commands to the ship’s nav.

The Cat’s Eye’s three fusion motors ignited, accelerating the ship in at a steady 6G. Three brilliant spears of fusion flame stabbed out. If no one at Sintra station had detected their arrival or transmission, they couldn’t miss the exhaust plumes. For anyone looking in their direction, it would seem as though a dim, moving star had flared to life.

The ship was an old Humpback transport, its name given for the way two of the three primary fusion motors bulged out of the wedge-shaped hull. Two engine nacelles rode low on either side of the hull, housing the twin shunt field generators. The transport was a venerable model, well respected for its durability. Some had been known to still function, despite damage to 60% of the hull structure. The design would never be considered pretty, festooned with unsightly bulges and protrusions as if it had some metallic fungal infection, but for most people who operated them, that didn’t matter. They were easily modified, and the protrusions often hid weapon systems. Plus the cargo holds were big enough to hold 300 metric tons. Whatever they couldn’t outrun, they could outshoot. The perfect craft for smugglers and mercenaries.    

At 4,000 kilometres, Lorenzo brought up the visible spectrum sensor telemetry on the main display. Sintra station was a blurry spec at first, until various filters kicked in and resolved the image.

‘Oh fuck me,’ Katria breathed. Both Yeven and Riko echoed her.

The main structure of the station was relatively intact, though despite the filters it remained slightly vague; there was nothing they could do about the cloud of debris and gases. Some of it appeared to be wreckage from the station’s complement of vessels, except for the obliterated wreckage of a GammaStar freighter. Its back had been broken by whatever explosion had destroyed the ship, the drive block now at right-angles to the rest of the ship.

Fiddling with the controls, Lorenzo refocused the display.  

Sintra station had picked up a slow spin, and as it rotated, a gaping hole blown into the side came into view. The edges were ragged and black. A few pinpricks of light flickered inside, and as they watched, there was a sudden outrush of pale gas as some compartment breached. Most of the station was dark, but for a few dimly flickering viewports at the base.

‘Who could’ve done this?’ Yeven asked.

‘Trenkarists, maybe? Or Sivian Templars? They both have a hard on for getting rid of the independents,’ Riko suggested.

‘Except the Order wouldn’t let them. The independents signed a peace-pact, remember?’

Riko scoffed. ‘Yeah, like that’d stop ‘em.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Lorenzo said, turning to face his crew. ‘What matters is what we’re going to do now.’

‘Cap?’

‘Shouldn’t we get out of here? The drive’s all spooled up – all we have to do is alter course and we can slingshot out.’

‘There might be survivors. And these people were our friends. We owe it to them to find out what happened.’

An uncomfortable expression crossed Yeven’s face, but he schooled it quickly, rather than arguing with Lorenzo. ‘You’re right, Captain. We look after our own.’

Turning back to his console, Lorenzo entered a new sequence in to the flight computer.

Thrusters fired on the Cat’s Eye’s hull, altering their trajectory to take them to an interception point 3,000 kilometres further along the station’s orbit. The braking motors fired as they closed with their rendezvous, slowing the ship until they were travelling at a few kilometres a second. Ten minutes later, the Cat’s Eye caught up with Sintra station. It took another thirty minutes to match the station’s slow rotation.

Once they were 200 metres away, the exterior spotlights came on, playing across the ragged hole in the station’s side. At this distance, the hole was much larger than it had first appeared, easily 80 or 90 metres across. But then, Sintra station itself was a kilometre-tall tiered cylinder, with an array of thermal cooling towers at the base adding another 150 metres. Now that he was closer, Lorenzo muttered a curse under his breath. The hole was the result of a compressed muon warhead. The explosion had left it hot, radiating a lot of x-ray radiation. Their hardsuits would be able to protect them from it, but that wasn’t the problem. The missile had struck above the docking bays, and now they had been obliterated. They weren’t going to be able to dock with the station.

Taking a deep breath, Lorenzo made his decision. ‘Katria, stay here. You see any ships pop onto the sensors, and we’ll come running back.’

‘Yes captain.’

‘Yeven, Riko, with me.’

‘Where’re we going, Cap?’ Riko asked as they left the bridge.

‘We’re going for a walk.’

Something to do

I've not been writing much for the past few months. Well, truth is, I've not actually written anything since February, when my writer's block hit.

That finally cleared a month later, and since then, I've been planning Serial Psyence, which doesn't leave me much time to do any actual writing. I suppose I could start writing the bits I've already planned, but after having done that with Liberator's Ruin, and discovering continuity errors because of it, I want to finish the plan before I start writing.

Which leaves me in a bit of a quandary. then I came up with an idea.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with it, and I'm not sure how long it's going to be, but as often as I can, I'll be putting up new scenes (chapters? sections?) on this blog over the next few weeks. If I like it, I may spin it out into another book.

We'll see

Moving on up, moving on out

Yes, I just quoted a song by M-People. Hey, it's on the radio, and seemed oddly appropriate.

Been really busy at the weekend. We got the keys to our new flat on Friday, and started moving all our stuff over. Fortunately had the help of two chaps with a van to move our big stuff (there's no way I'd get the washing machine up the stairs - I still have no idea how they managed it).

I think we're about two thirds in now, but there's still a lot of stuff still at our old place which has to be boxed up and moved over, including clothes and various bits of crap. Let's face it, most is mine, not Heather's. I hoard, I know.

Annoyingly though, we cant' take our two-seater sofa with us. The stairs up to the flat are far too narrow to get it in, which means a trip to Ikea for one of their nice flat pack sofas.

In writing related news, I've still a lot to do on Serial Psyence. I'm less than halfway through my plan, so I'm having my doubts about starting the actual writing bit by September.

I've never actually written a thriller before, so it'll be interesting to see how this turns out.

New car/old car

I like having a car. Both Heather and I drive, and technically, we do need them to get to work. Transport links being what they are in Leicester (read: crap), you need one to get around.

Unfortunately, my car, being Fiat, has decided, now it's ten years old, that it wanted to develop problems. Of the expensive kind. I think I understand why they're nicknamed fix-it-again-tomorrow.

Anyway, I've now got to decide whether to scrap it, fix it, or part-exchange it for a new one. Fix it is out of the question; I'm looking at almost a £1000 bill for repairs over the next year, which I can't afford. I'm loath to just scrap it, mainly because I've never been without a car since I turned 18, but also because I need it to get to work. So that leaves part-exchange. Ooh, the fun! On the plus side, I could get a nice nippy little Nissan Micra, so not all bad.

Writing-wise, the plan for Serial Psyence is progressing well. It's deviating a little from the outline, but I expected that. Besides, it'll probably alter again when I start writing it. I imagine it sounds like an odd way to do things, but the plan holds the story together, giving me a backbone on which to structure it, and the characters do have a tendency to go their own when once I'm writing.

In other news, since getting the review from A Tale of Many Reviews (who I shall be forever grateful to for giving me my very first review), I've got several more people interested in reviewing Liberator's Ruin. With luck, they'll all love it.

It's the little things that count

I have a pet hate.

Okay, okay, I actually have many pet hates, but this post refers to one in particular.

I'm a bit of a grammar and spelling nut. Yeah, I make mistakes (who doesn't?) but it really gets on my nerves when people are lazy with their writing. In particular, misuse of words.


There are so many examples of people using 'then' in place of 'than' it beggars belief.

I understand if English isn't your first language - to be fair, it's a damned complex language that evolved organically over several centuries, and has incorporated words from other languages, notably French and German, among others. Even worse, English has words that sound the same but have different meanings (eg. there, their and they're), which makes it even more confusing.

What really gets my goat, is misuse of words in sentences. Going from my earlier example, one is chronologically based (then - eg I will go for a walk, then have a shower), and the other is comparative, when you choose one thing over another (eg. I think I'll watch tv rather than going for a walk today).

Another I saw recently in an article on a tech site (I won't name and shame), was the use of weary instead of wary.

Maybe I'm being too harsh, but to be frankly honest, I take a lot of pride in my writing. To be sure, I don't like it when someone points out a mistake I've made, but it's not their fault. If it helps improve my writing, then it's a good thing.

Maybe it's linked with the rise in text-speech abbreviations, or maybe it's just sheer laziness. I don't know.

But I don't like it.

What an end to the world

Well, The News of the World is shutting up shop on Sunday.

After over a century and a half of news reporting, it's a bit like an end of an era. An ignominious end, to be sure. It seems to be a bit of a sacrificial lamb, so that the rest of News International isn't dragged into the mud with it, but I don't think I'll miss it. Hey, one less tabloid in the world is surely a good thing, right?

The only people I feel sorry for are the poor sods who work at the paper who are actually don't deserve to lose their jobs. I mean, sure, they work at a veritable turd of a paper (my opinion, mind), but really, it's the actions of a few who ruined it for the rest with their bad work ethics.

First impressions count

So yesterday’s trip to view a house was a complete waste of time. Again.

Originally, we were supposed to go for the viewing last week, but at the last minute, the agent changed the time to an earlier slot that neither me nor Heather could make. A message which we only got 20 minutes before the viewing.

Not impressed.

And to compound the issue, we arranged for the viewing to be rescheduled for yesterday at 4.45pm. And they didn’t show up. Upon phoning the estate agents, they didn’t have a record of the new viewing

Brilliant.

You would think that estate agents would want to let a property. So why are they cocking up our bookings?

Maybe it’s a conspiracy.

Never mind, we’ve got another viewing round the corner from our place tonight, and another on Thursday. Fingers crossed they go through okay!

Anyway, Spider-man Shattered Dimensions did arrive last night. It kinda reminds me of the old spidey game on the ps1, with individual levels rather than a sandbox environment. It’s good fun, and the voice actors for the various spider-men are brilliant. My favourite’s a toss-up between Neil Patrick Harris’ Amazing, and Josh Keaton’s Ultimate Spider-man. Josh Keaton is fantastic as Spidey, having voiced him in the criminally short-lived Spectacular Spider-man cartoon series. Well worth a look, plus the second season’s currently £3.99 on iTunes.

I think I shall spend some more time in the red and blues when I get home – metaphorically, of course. I really don’t think I could/should fit into those tights.

Home on the Range

Only a quick post today - I'll do a longer one later this week.

Off house/flat hunting this evening after work, and most nights this week. It's a bit of a pain, if I'm honest. You see a nice looking property on Rightmove, and half the time it's gone by the time you get to view it, or it doesn't live up to the photos.

We're doubly limited by funds, so we can't afford a high rent at the moment. It might even mean we have to down size to a one bed place. We'll be pretty stuck for space, but it'll only be for a year - that's life in a recession for you. That and our circumstances hopefully will start changing next September.

Anyhoo, fingers crossed we find a nice enough place by the end of august so we can move out of the student-infested hole we currently reside in.

On another note, my copy of Spider-man Shattered Dimensions on the 360 should arrive today, so that's something to look forward to!

My first review!

Those amazing guys over at a Tale of Many Reviews published a review of Liberator's Ruin at the weekend.


The short of what they said? Jennifer says, "When I wasn't reading I found myself wondering about the characters and what was coming next."



It's so awesome to know someone loved your book so much they read it in a few days.

Head over to a Tale of Many Reviews for the full review.

Phill

RIP Spidey

Wow, I actually have tears in my eyes.

In the latest issue of Ultimate Spider-man, Peter Parker dies, sacrificing himself to save his Aunt from the Green Goblin.

It's stupid, I know - I mean, I've not even read an issue of Ultimate Spider-man, or even any spidey comic for years. And this isn't even main continuity spidey either.

But it's still Spider-man.

Thing is, although I stopped reading the comics about 10 years ago (I couldn't afford to buy the issues each month), Spider-man has been my favourite superhero for over 20 years. It was the first proper comic I can remember reading in the 80s. Sure, the Batman Animated Series in the 90s is one of my favourite animated series, but so was Spider-man. That cartoon was one of the few to have stories that ran for the entire series. It was absolutely brilliant, and following in its big footsteps was the 2008 Spectacular Spider-man. I just bought the second series from iTunes, and frankly it's brilliant.

Spider-man has always been, and will always be, one of my favourite heroes.

I'm rambling now, I know - okay, okay, I'm basically gushing! but hey, it means a lot to me.

Maybe I should look into picking up the first volume of Ultimate Spidey and check it out for myself. Though I may wait til I have a tablet for my comic buying needs. that's a whole different blog though.

Anyhoo, I'm getting Spider-man Shattered Dimensions on the DS today, so that should cheer me up!

Visualisation

I'm a visual writer. I see the events I write about in my head, and the words I put on paper are my translations of those images. It's an odd way of doing things, but it works for me, and means I can put a lot of detail in my stories.

That also means I get inspired by things I see, be it a news report, a cloud, a car or a game.

Recently, I've been playing a bit of Metro 2033. I think it's an absolutely brilliant game. Sure, it has its flaws, but the combat is fun, and I love the tense bits, as you creep through the dark tunnels, with nothing but your headlamp for illumination.

Visually, I also find the game really inspiring. By playing it, I start thinking about a story with a similar setting. I'm not talking about the story of the game, or its exact setting. the author of Metro 2033 (Dimitri Glukhovsky) has already done that with his book. Which, by the way, is well worth a read.

No, what I mean is a post apocalyptic environment, where the air is toxic, forcing the populace underground. I really like it as a premise, so the visual aesthetic of the game has spawned a whole new world for me. I may never use it, what with Serial Psyence now well into its development, and two more books in mind for the crew of the Stormbrother after that, followed by a sci fi trilogy ... yeah, I have a lot of stories in my head. Keeps me busy.

Music of the week: I'm listening to the Halo and Halo Reach soundtracks at the moment. the sweeping orchestral scores fitting in quite well with my planning. Best of all, it works as a barrier between me and my office.

duke Nukem disappointment

I got Duke Nukem Forever on Thursday (yeah, I know it was released on Friday, but that’s the beauty of Game’s first to play system). To be frankly honest, it was not worth the 14 year wait.

Maybe I’ve matured too much to enjoy the puerile humour. Maybe I’ve gained an appreciation for subtler story telling thanks to games like Half-life.

Or maybe, DNF is just shit. Now hold on, before you get on your high horse. I love Duke 3D. I have the trial game on XBL, and even after 15 years, the game is still fun to play. It’s a testament to the game that you can still enjoy it even now.

I’m finding it hard to pin point quite what it is about DNF that I don’t like. The graphics are pretty shoddy – muddy to the point you think it’s been dragged through bog land for thirty miles. The characters are annoying, the weapons are mediocre (you can’t even carry enough ammo like you used to), and worse, you’re restricted to carrying two! I’m loath to carry the rpg, one of the mainstays from Duke 3D, simply because you only have 5 rounds. Miss a shot at your peril.

Normally, I don’t mind the two weapon proscription. It’s a common enough feature in COD and Halo and Crysis 2, but Duke’s an arcade shooter. It just doesn’t belong. Someone mentioned on a forum that the reason the game only allows you to carry two weapons is because you can’t switch weapons easily on a console. Really? I can name a few games that allow you to carry multiple weapons: Bioshock 1 & 2, Red faction Guerilla and Armageddon, Gears Of War 1 & 2, and lest I forget, Gearbox’s own Borderlands.

The level design is frankly appalling, and the enemies … I miss the old pig cops. The ones that squeal when they die, and attempt to shotgun you to death (and were bloody good at it too if you weren’t careful). But these new ones that jump at you are a pain in the arse. It's great when you hit them with a shotgun blast as they fly through the air, but you're more than likely to miss than hit, and have to go through a button tapping exercise to kill them, all whilst being shot at.

Which brings me to the final point. The controls are shoddy, either too twitchy or too mushy, never just right, and make aiming at an octobrain an exercise in frustration.

Was DNF worth spending £30 on? Not a chance. Good job I got £30 trade in for it, which is going toward Ocarina of Time 3DS this Friday.

On a side note, I rented Red Faction Armageddon to tide me over till Friday, and that is fun.

Own worst enemy

You know, I started this blog because I wanted to talk about my writing. Except, it’s not quite turned out that way. I’ll admit, I’m quite reticent when it comes to actually giving voice to whatever project I’m working on. I suppose it’s because I don’t like discussing it until it’s finished. That and I’m worried I’ll give away the plot before the book’s even published!

They are valid reasons to be concerned (for me, anyway), but I suppose the real problem is that I take ages to actually do anything. Right now, I’m working on the flashback sequences that run throughout Serial Psyence. I’m not entirely happy with the first one, so I think I’ll be going back to the drawing board before I start the actual writing, plus I think the plotting is a little weak for the main character’s motivations, but that’ll be fixed before I come round to writing that bit.

I guess that’s why I like to plan my stories from beginning to end. It gives me time to flesh out the story until I have a cohesive whole. I didn’t do that at first for Liberator’s Ruin, and to me, that’s kind of obvious. I think the first few chapters are pretty weak, though it does get better later.

I am, of course, my own worst critic.

A mind of many minds

Bit of advice for you. Don’t tell people you have a psychic murderer running around inside your head. They think you’re crazy.

Perhaps I should explain.

The plot for Serial Psyence, my next book, is well under way. The first draft of the outline has been finished, so now it’s a case of tidying it up, and making sure there are no continuity errors or weak points to the plot. Once this is done, I’ll start writing the full plan. It’s a long winded way of writing, but I find it really helps if I have a plan to refer to when I’m actually sat down at my laptop, beavering away.

And the premise of this book?

You guessed it, a psychic killer.

The problem with a killer who murders his victims with his mind is how do you catch him?

The setting needs a little more work though: I have the arcology pretty much fixed in my head, but there are little things about it that I need to be absolutely sure of before I’m ready to properly put finger to keyboard.

It was bank holiday weekend, this weekend, so I’ve not been doing much writing. We went to visit Heather’s parents for the weekend, then my mum on the way back. It was a very nice and peaceful weekend, though I feel a bit guilty for not having done any actual writing. The closest I got was editing a copy of Liberator’s Ruin to put up on Smashwords. They’re an aggregator for Apple, so fingers crossed, in a few weeks it’ll be gracing the ibookstore and Barnes & Noble.

I’m also playing L.A. Noire at the moment. What a brilliant game. The cases are really interesting, and I’m liking how the Vice cases are tying into the newspaper reports scattered throughout the game. I’ll admit that homicide was my favourite desk, and your partner in traffic was easily the most likeable. I especially liked the way the game has tied itself into actual crimes committed in 1940s L.A. – particularly the Black Dahlia murder. It’ll be really interesting to see where the rest of the game goes.

Long lost friends

It’s certainly been a while since I last made a post. I would like to excuse my absence by saying that I was uber busy getting a publishing deal sorted. But that would be a lie.

Okay, so not a complete and utter lie, as I did get my book published! As much as I love my first book, Liberator’s ruin, it’s probably not the sort of thing that will appeal to publishers or agents.

I know, I know, as a science fantasy steampunk novel, I can pretty much guarantee that there’s not that many other published works around. But maybe there’s a reason for that. It’s a niche genre, after all, and not many people are interested in it.

So I decided to take the plunge and publish my book myself, via the kindle. I have to admit, it was pretty darn easy, and after a week of work ensuring everything worked and looked good, my book is now available to buy.

There’s something quite pleasing about seeing one’s book up for sale.

Now I just have to get enough interest so that people buy it!

Other than that, I’ll come out and say it now: I’ve been lazy. I’ve not been in much of a mood to post, with writer’s block in full swing. Contrary to some beliefs, I don’t find writing a blog all that soothing, nor does it stir the creative juices.

All I need is time to recharge the creative juices.

Time which I think I’ve now had. I’ve made a start on my plan for my next novel, which is just over halfway through – admittedly, this is probably the fourth or fifth revision – and once that’s done, I’ll be writing a basic synopsis, then a full plan, which is what I’ll be working from when I start writing it.

Yeah, it’s a long winded approach, but this novel is way more complex than any story I’ve ever written, and unlike some people (I’m looking at you, Mr. Martin), I’m very conscious of my story’s continuity. So unless I start writing some small pieces, it’ll be a while longer before I get down to any actual writing.

Anyway, to give taster of what my next book is about:

How do you catch a killer when there’s no evidence?

The Great Obstruction

I have writer's block.

And I say that like I have a disease or something. Except it's one that builds up a great big bloody wall in my head. On one side, there's my creativity, my ability to cohesively string words together into some sort of descriptive piece, crafting stories with deft flicks of a keystroke. And on the other side there's me, seeing this blank wall stretching in either direction for as far as the eye can see. Too long to go around, too high to climb over.

And of course, these things never suddenly appear. They creep up on you, built brick by brick by an army of gnomes. You can't tell it's happening at first. It starts to take longer to write a scene, as the wall's foundations are laid. Then, as the wall gets higher, and it starts to trip you, it gets harder to find the write words with which to begin, until, finally, you're sat there, hands poised over the keyboard, ready to begin, but nothing comes. You know what you want to write, but the words just aren't there. It's been thirty minutes, and still nothing. And when you finally look up, you see the wall, staring at you.


The most terrifying thing about writers block is that it feels like you're never going to write again. I know it's false, that eventually the wall will go, and I'll write again.

I just need a bit of time to let the foundations crumble, and I can smack that wall with a bloody wrecking ball.

Well, at least my knack for hyperbole hasn't left me!

A New Hope?

I caved.

I tried to resist, I tried so hard not to do it, but in the end, I couldn't stop myself. I just had to do it.

I'm weak.

What am I talking about? Have I given up chocolate for lent, and suffered a major craving that I couldn't resist and gone out and bought a bar of Cadburys? Have I gone and spent a whole lot of money on something that I don't need, but want? Or maybe I've been trying to give up smoking, and couldn't resist one more cigarette. Just the one ... it's only small, it won't hurt me ...

Nope, none of the above. For starters, I don't even smoke, and I'm not religious, so I've not given anything up for lent. And whilst I did buy a 3DS on Friday, I didn't pay the Earth for it.

So if it's none of those, what is it?

I started planning Pandora's Box. The great experiment is over. I must admit, I feel a lot better now that I'm planning the story, knowing that I have this structured backbone underpinning it. I'm still not quite sure where it's going, and I want to expand on some of the characters a little more, but at least I now kinda know what I'm doing!

The writer's terror

I can feel the onset of writer's block.

It's like I've got a spectre, hovering over my shoulder, preparing to pounce and deny me my ability to put together a cohesive string of words. It's been a while since he and I last saw each other, one dark, dismal day, four years ago. the spectre rose up and did his best to make every last sentence a war, every word a battle. I suppose that's why I like to plan out my stories before hand. If I have a structure to work with, the words come more easily, because I know where the stories are going, so my characters are able to tell me how they are going to get there.

Right now, though, I'm just not feeling it. I think I can safely say this test of 'free-writing' has proved to be a bit of a failure. Having said that, I have at least learnt something about myself: structure is all. Structure is king.

On the plus side, I finished Dragon Age 2 last week - awesome fun - and have recently rediscovered the joy of Wind Waker. It's funny how a game you've had for years can suddenly rekindle a whole new sense of joy. I've only just started on my quest, but really looking forward to sailing the vast sea of Hyrule. Of course, I picked a fine time to get back into playing it, with the release of the 3DS right round the corner. C'est la vie!

The Force is not strong with this one

I've discovered something about my writing style recently.

I don't like free-writing. By that, I mean I don't like writing a story without a plan. I like to sit and think about the path of my story, the characters in it, plan it out, starting with a list of bullet points and expanding on it until I have the main thrust of my narrative.

I like being in control. It's a stupid thing to say, I know - I'm the one writing the story. How can I not be in control. Except I don't feel like I am. I feel like I'm holding on to a castle made from jelly, and any second it's going to start coming apart and dribble through my fingers as I try grabbing for it like a cat pawing the air.

See, now that my book is finished, and the final draft is complete, I've decided to work on another project before I begin the next book. Heather suggested I write a fanfiction, as that way it would be a short inconsequential piece, just to get me back in gear. There was just one proviso: No planning. As it's been 8 months since I last did any writing that wasn't editing, I agreed to give it a go.

Turns out, I like planning a story. I like having the whole thing sorted out so I have my beginning, middle and end. I like knowing where a story is going.

And right now, I don't. It's all organic and flowing. For example, in the last chapter, I planned on having one of the main characters arrested, except that didn't happen, and she got off world. the little minx wheedled her way out of that trap, instead having a little chat with a bounty hunter.

It's bloody frustrating!

On the plus side, it's giving me a fresh perspective again.

At least the Jedi is doing what I want him to. For the moment.

The story's up on Fanfiction.net, entitled Pandora's Box (by MissingPerson), if you want a read.

Phillip J. Johns

On approach

"Full speed ahead, Anton. Let's see if we can outrun those storm clouds."

"Aye, aye, Skipper."


And here she is, the Storm Brother. I've been wanting to do a sketch of the airship for a while now, to help with my visualisation of Nathaniel's ship. I'm not entirely happy with the gondola, but it does the job.

You can see the detail of the armour-plating on the underside of the gasbag - I rather like the idea of airships as warships, but cloth gives way a little too easily. The Storm Brother started life as an Elburzian Condor-class airship bomber, but the line was discontinued years ago and the surplus ships sold off. As an ex-warship, her gasbag is covered in 2-inch thick steel plating. Yes, despite all that extra weight, she can still fly! That's what a lightmass engine's for.

Phillip J. Johns

Happy Valentines!

I had a lovely day on Monday.

We'd planned to go out for a meal, but the reality of expenses curtailed that idea, possibly not helped by the amount I spent on flowers - worth it though, just for the look on Heather's face when i gave them to her.

Still, despite things not quite going to plan, we ate a nice meal, drank a rather nice bottle of white wine, and watched Letters to Juliet on blu-ray.

Now, I'll admit that romantic comedies are one of my guilty pleasures, but I didn't think I'd enjoy this film when we first saw it. It seemed a little bit too ... gooey. But Amanda Seyfried is eminently watchable, Vanessa Redgrave is fantastic, and as for the setting, Italy in HD is utterly gorgeous. definitely a place to visit. Amusingly though, we kept expecting to see a white-clothed assassin scaling the towers. Damn you Assassin's Creed!

All in all, a lovely night.

I'm working on some sketches of the airship from my book, Liberator's Ruin at the moment. I've got the shape planned, so I might get round to doing a 3d drawing over the weekend. I'm not quite as good at drawing as I am at writing, but if I like it, it might make an appearance in my next post!

Note of interest this month: High Inquisitor armour is impervious to almost all forms of attack.
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Human Maintenance

I started this blog to talk about, among (many) other things, my writing. Which I've not done so far!

Anyway, after thinking about the effect of cybernetic replacements on a person's mentality, I came up with this little piece:

           "‘Adam, how are you feeling today?’

            Adam glanced up at the speaker, but stayed where he was, slumped on his sofa, glass of brandy on the small glass coffee table beside him. It was a woman, dressed in a smart navy business suit, her hands covered in leather gloves, and her blond hair tied in a loose ponytail. He ignored her and returned to gazing out the window. The sun was beginning to rise, bathing Leicester in an amber glow. Traffic along the London road into the city centre was building up, but it was still dark enough that all he could make out were the bright headlights zipping along the road.

            His apartment was on the eighteenth floor of Theston Towers, an apartment complex towering over the railway line. It afforded a commanding view over the city, but to be honest, Adam couldn’t really care less. It was still better looking out the window than talking to his clinic-appointed psychiatric engineer. It was annoying that the clinic had given her access to his apartment, a damned infringement on his privacy. Not that they cared, not after the level of surgery he’d been through. It was bad enough that he’d signed himself out three weeks early, but they’d only agreed as long as he would allow home visits. And he did. Anything, just as long as he could get out of that place.

            The door clicked shut behind her, and the woman strode across the apartment lounge, heels tapping out a rhythm on the laminate sheet floor. She stared down at him, one eyebrow raised in appraisal. He hadn’t moved from the sofa since last night, still dressed in a pair of loose trousers, fastened at the waist with a knotted cord. The knot was crude, but the best he could manage these days.

            She glanced at the windows. Abruptly, the glass opacity index increased until the view disappeared. Adam blinked as the apartment’s lights came on at the same time.

            ‘My name is Evelyn Sathwood, Adam. I’ve come to see how you’re doing.’

            ‘I know why you’re here,’ he said, curtly. ‘You’re here to do maintenance. Well go right ahead.’

            ‘That’s a funny way of putting it. Is that how you see yourself? As a machine?’

            Finally, he looked at her. ‘What else am I? Seventy-five percent of me replaced. Seventy-five. That means that only twenty-five is still human. I don’t even have my own heart anymore, just some lump of biotech. You could say I’m a little bit heartless.’ He laughed at his own joke before he sank back into his morose mood.

            Evelyn frowned at him. The accident had caused a lot of damage to his body, leaving a big, angry scar across the left side of his torso, and weals up his face as if he’d been badly whipped. His left leg had been replaced from the knee down, the prosthesis covered in a shiny black carapace. His arms had come off the worst; she’d read the reports, and he’d tried to shield himself from the explosion with them. When they finally dragged him from the ruins, there wasn’t much left of them except ruined stumps. Both had required amputation as the shoulder. Their replacements were clad in the same black carapace, between which she could see the carbon-titanium nanotube musculature. They had even replaced several internal organs, and before he’d checked himself out, he’d been in line for dermal enhancement.

            ‘You’re still a man, Adam, even if you don’t see it.’

            He snorted. ‘Whatever. You know I get drunk quicker these days? Less meat to soak up the alcohol, even with an artificial liver.’

            Adam reached for his glass. There was a faint whirr as his fingers closed around the glass. He had it halfway to his mouth when a loud crack­ rang through the air and the glass shattered, spilling its contents across his chest.

            ‘Great, another glass gone,’ he said, brushing the debris onto the floor.

            Accessing the apartment’s management routines, Evelyn detailed a pair of cleaning bots to deal with the glass. The little machines zipped out of their storage bays to hoover up the fragments and mop up brandy.

            While they worked, Evelyn pulled over one of the dining chairs and sat down in front of Adam.

            ‘You’re still having trouble with fine motor control.’

            ‘Oh wow, I can see why they sent you to see me. You’re really observant.’

            ‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Adam.’

            ‘So they tell me. Do I look like I give a fuck?’

            ‘Obviously not. I’m here because I want to help you. Do you have to be so rude?’

            He looked at her sullenly. After a few moments, he finally relented. It wasn’t fair on her. She was just doing her job. ‘I didn’t ask for this,’ he said, gesturing at his prosthetics.

            ‘No one does,’ Evelyn replied. She tugged off her left glove, revealing an artificial hand. Unlike his, the surface was covered in bronze-coloured patterns, like henna-tattoos.

            ‘Oh.’

            ‘That’s why they sent me, Adam. They thought that you might react better to someone who understands your … condition.’

            ‘Got me all figured out, huh?’

            Evelyn smiled. ‘They do have your psyche record.’

            ‘Touché.’"

Well, that's all I have for now, but I'm seeing the glimmer of a story forming

           

I can see clearly now

Out my window, I can see perfectly clear blue sky, and the big tree outside my office window is illuminated by golden sunlight, as are the roofs beyond, the sun low enough that shadows cast from the individual tiles stretch across the rooftop. All in all, it looks lovely outside my window, and even though I know it's still cold, I'd much rather be outside. Except for this little thing called work. Oh well.

More pertinently today, Heather and I are off to view our first house/flat together! Well, to be fair, we've been living together now for 8 months, but as I'm a senior sub warden in university halls, the flat we have isn't technically ours, and quite honestly could do with a massive make-over. We're moving out in August, so looking now is a little premature, but it means we can get a good idea of what we'll get for our money. As long as it means we don't have students who sound like a heard of elephants living above us, I'll be happy.

I've not been writing much lately. The edit is still going strong, and should hopefully have that fully completed in a couple of weeks. I'm only picking out small faults now, so I'm going to leave the document alone when it's done. If I don't, I'll probably keep editing until it's completely different, and to be honest, I miss writing, so I'm quite looking forward to getting back to that. It'll be a bit of a change too - Liberator's Ruin is a science fantasy (I find that more interesting than straight fantasy, mixing magic and technology), whilst my next story, Serial Psyence, is a sci-fi thriller.

Watched some of the trailers for Deus Ex Human Revolution at the weekend. The music is definitely channelling a Tron: Legacy/ Daft Punk vibe, which I love, and unlike so very many sci-fi shooters, it's not grey! Admittedly, seen very little of the gameplay, so it's still up in the air as to whether it'll be any good or not, but I shall be keeping my fingers crossed.