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(posted on 3-23-2000)
It was a cold evening in the early twilight. The light from the rising moons filtered sullenly through the soft drizzle that mixed in with the dust of the road, turning it into a wet slurry. Hover vehicles went about their business in a brisk fashion, and no one lingered long out of doors.
No one, that is, except for a large man in a long cloak. He moved down an alleyway with surprising speed for a man of his size and his obvious age was betrayed by his flowing locks of grey hair. He had an unusual rolling gait that a seafarer from two thousand years ago would have found strangely familiar. In his arms he carried a bundle of dark cloth.
Here and there he paused briefly to glance over his strong shoulders. Seemingly satisfied, he would continue down the alleys, ducking from overhang to lintel, lintel to walkway, constantly moving to the next piece of cover. All the way along he carefully sheltered his bundle from the falling rain, minding not his own discomfort.
Eventually he reached a steaming grate under an arched bridge. Illuminated by the working half of a bank of streetlights that also lit the lurid graffiti in the archway, the man reached down and, with a grunt, lifted the grating with one powerful arm. He set it down gently, and placed the bundle he was sheltering onto it while he manhandled the sewer's ladder up into position. The bundle showed slightly restless in the wan lighting, moving slightly on the damp metal. The man made a soothing sound, and brushed the covers lightly with his palm. The bundle ceased it's wriggling, and went back to sleep. The great grey-shouldered man picked up his burden again and climbed down the manhole, only pausing to drag the grating back into it's home above him.
Once again, the alleyway was silent.
--
The small man with the eyepatch bounced the baby on his knee, making silly faces as the wain gurgled and laughed at his antics. His good eye was round and big, and his pockmarked face was making strange goldfish motions, much to the delight of the infant. "Ha-doop-doop-doop! Whosa baby, den? Whosa baaabyee? Eh, eh?" Sitting next to him at the table was the grey haired man, towelling off that same grey hair with a black pullover that had seen better days. "He's the image of his mother, there's truth. But there's something of Morgan about the eyes, look you!" He bent over to tickle some tiny toes, provoking another bout of wriggling. The man with the patch looked up at his older companion, with a more sombre look in his eyes. "Did you see it happen, Olaf?" he asked. The grey-hair shook his head. "Not me, Raif. I was in engineering." His face turned skyward. "I felt the impact, though. Damn near tore the ship in half." Raif spat. "Devil take that traitor McGowan. If I should meet up with him..." The big man stopped him short with a firm hand on his arm. "Then you'll do your duty by Morgan, and run like the wind. If McGowan or his Federation masters get a'hold of any one of us then the rest are lost. The Bureau's too good at making people talk." He loosed his hold, but kept his friend and shipmate fixed in his gaze. "You're a good man and strong, Raif Rhysson, but no man can last long against the Bureau's torturers. Not even such a one as yerself," he grinned, tousling the younger man's hair. Raif had the good grace to look a little sheepish. He looked down at the infant, who was now fast asleep in his arms. "So you've got to raise this one, eh?" he sighed. "Why the devil Morgan didn't send him and Lella away when he had the chance, I'll never fathom." Olaf glared into space. "He didn't know he'd been betrayed. None of us did. Not until the Federation ships had us surrounded in all three axes," said Greyshoulders, biting off the words as he stared at his feet. After a moment, he straightened a bit, and turned back to his one-eyed shipmate. "Thanks for the shelter, mate, and thanks for the food. Me an' the lad had best be going, or we'll be bringing trouble down around your head. They're still looking for us," he owned. "You won't stay? A night's rest won't hurt nothing," said Raif, his expression betraying the fears he held for the big man's safety. Olaf Greyshoulders shook his head. "Not tonight, Raif. In a while, maybe... but not tonight. You should get clear, too. They'll have tracked me here, never doubt!" He gathered up his small charge in a large arm, and draped his great-cloak across his shoulders with the free one. "Say a prayer for us, Raif." He paused at the door to the small hideaway, turned his head and said "See you again. Stay well!" With that, he was out the door, and gone into the night.
A little later, an actinic glare lit the night as a small, old shuttlecraft clawed painfully up through the sky, and into the starry beyond. Raif lowered the hand he had raised against the glare, and muttered old seafarer's blessings as the tears streamed down his battered face. "Keep that boy safe, Olaf, and raise him well! There's a reckoning coming, and he'll need to be ready." A thought struck him then. "Mind you," he murmured with a slight smile on his face, "if that lad runs true to his blood, it'll be McGowan who'll need to be prepared!" After casting a last look up at the dwindling glow of the shuttle, Raif Rhysson made his way back down to his hideaway, and started to pack his things.
(This message has been edited by Jude (edited 03-23-2000).)
First things first, I'm testing to see if I can now post replies.
Secondly, love the story; and now it means that we have to get Nova damn well finished!
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Yeah. I was a bit disappointed with the response this received (sigh).
Ah, well.
Quote
pipeline wrote: **Yeah. I was a bit disappointed with the response this received (sigh).
Ah, well.**
It will probably get more support when the Nova release is immanent...
Probably, but... yeah.
Nice little taster. Lack of response probably down to lack of traffic here (should improve now that Andrew's put a link with all the others, yaaay). Don't worry, there's some (lots?) of us on tenterhooks for this release, oh yeah and that other one, what was it again, 1.0.something or other wasn't it
Seriously, like the atmosphere to this excerpt a lot, and Frandall's bound to be right, the final release is going to generate quite enough interest for you, I'm sure.
I have praise and other comments.
As Alan said, nice atmosphere. More specifically, good characterization with broadly sketched personages. In an excerpt this small, and with the amount of text that EVO lets you put in, that kind of quick and general outline of character is really essential. Also, nice and consistent use of colloquial language. It makes us interested in their fate, lets us feel that we know them, without taking too much time and space. Nice use of symbolism with the underground hideout representing the illicit nature of the pirate life and the "dwindling glow of the shuttle" against the starry sky representing hope for the future. This kind of shorthand is very useful and especially essential for a game format when you have to communicate a lot with a few words.
On the other hand, and this is a matter of personal prefference, it didn't feel like real science or futuristic fiction to me. There were a few scientific, technological, and/or futuristic details, but basically it seemed like you were taking a page out of the book of 19th century sea novels. The science details weren't terribly important. Now, that is one way to write science fiction, just as a slightly intensified version of the past. But the kind I prefer reading is a little more explicitly scientific, or at least it explores the implications of technology on human relations. I haven't, honestly, thought about how well this would work in a game format, but it seems to me it should be possible and exciting.
But really good science fiction that blends profound human emotions with good imaginitive technology that illuminates the connection between them is terribly difficult to write. So I don't blame you if you're not in perfect comformity with my personal ideal of a science fiction writer.
You post is a really good introduction to the universe of your game that shows a real concern with the integrity of your universe. It bodes well for the quality of your final product. As always, I can't wait to play it.
All the best,
Bubbles
Bubbles wrote: But really good science fiction that blends profound human emotions with good imaginitive technology that illuminates the connection between them is terribly difficult to write. So I don't blame you if you're not in perfect comformity with my personal ideal of a science fiction writer.
Just as an aside, we have written two preambles for each of the major cultures in Nova (Federation, Polaris, Pirate, Vell-os, Rebellion and Auroran), and we wrote them to get a more clear understanding of the culture of these six enormous beasts. So, inactual fact, very few of these 12 short 'stories' (some aren't really stories at all - you'll understand what I mean when we post them) make any real mention of the 'technological' side of things because we were trying to develop cultures rather than trying to wow ourselves with cool new technologies.
But, in general, a good science fiction story does have profound human interractions and emotions with realistic characters as well as imaginative technology that suits the overall schema. Our stories are more like historical or cultural documents (or character development) that just happen to be set in the far future...
Nova sounds like it will be pretty cool...
------------------ A scholar's ink lasts much longer than a martyr's blood. - Irish proverb.
Very cool. Quit looking at me that way. Alright, it's long and it is late, I didn't read it. But I am sure it is some really kick ass stuff.
------------------ And so the problem remained; lots of people were mean, and most of them were miserable, even the ones with digital watches. Many were increasingly of the opinion that they had all made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some said that the trees had been a bad move and that no one should ever have left the oceans.
And people thought the Federation sounded like the United States.
------------------ Subcommander g'Var "8 Lightnings" Krai'un
Second in command of the Escort Starbeam. “Imagine if you will, you’re standing on a grade of finely processed salt in a salt factory. Now, there is a very large rusty blade flying towards you at a very high speed. Imagine now, the feeling you will have as you fall into that salt after you are run through with that blade.” -Marathon Infinity, Terminal 0, Page 2, You Think You’re Big Time, You’re Gonna Die Big Time, Vidmaster’s Challenge Edition.
Beware: The first paragraph here is a rant. You have been warned.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, POST THE OTHER PREAMBLES!!!!
There, now I can breathe. ALL of the preambles that I've read are excellent. I realize that they are meant to be cultural, not technological, in nature. Still, some more tech details would be nice.
Congratulations, people. You have managed to make some cultures that are a LOT cooler and MUCH better defined then in most science fiction novels! The writing in the culture preambles is on par with Card (Enders Game) and Catherine Asario (All those things about the Skolians, the Ruby, and those guys that play Quis). If I had a hat it would be off to you. That being said, finish the game. The cultural detail can only improve the game.
^_^<