TheSass
Chapter 1
Ludger G. Morton, CEO of his own design and engineering firm, was lost in thoughts while driving back to his secluded retreat, north of the city. The day had been hectic, like most Fridays always were. It seemed that the business could never afford to let him go for the weekend, especially for a long one like this week.
He was a young man in his early thirties, broad shouldered, and of short stocky stature. He was in trim physical shape and his body was molded by countless hours training in the martial arts. He had a full head of short curly light brown hair, and a closed cropped beard that held a mixture of colors from blonde, to light reddish brown and a few hints of gray. His piercing eyes were ice blue that day, but depending on his moods they could change form that to gray or green. Hopefully they would reach the green of relaxation by the end of the long weekend.
He liked the feeling of the wind rustling past his head in his old, open, emerald green, Suzuki Samurai, as he bounced down the rough road at great speed, his powerful hands holding for dear life to the padded steering wheel. As usual he was driving way too fast, but this being his private road, with no traffic allowed, he was enjoying it to the fullest.
He shot a quick glance towards Bacchus, his giant schnauzer, who was struggling to stay seated beside him. He said loudly.
“Do you like this?”
He could almost see the grin in the dog’s face. Bringing his attention back to the road, he thought about the empty log house awaiting him, at the top of a cliff overlooking that rugged lakeshore. He had mixed feelings about it, since the messy divorce he went through the year before. Under one hand it was the place where he felt the most comfortable. It was fulfilling his need for solitude and isolation.
On the other hand, it reminded of some of the bad fights he had with his ex-wife during the last few months of their marriage. She liked to live in their penthouse in the city, he preferred the country retreat.
After a year of her trying to run every aspect of his life, he could not tolerate her refusal to let him go, even occasionally, to the retreat. He promptly moved out of the penthouse to his log home, which was outfitted with all the modern conveniences. What ensued was a bitter, one sided, fight for the settlement. He did not want to hurt her in any way. She wanted all he had and more. The memory was still painful, but when he was at home he always felt better.
As he neared his home, a feeling of serenity entered his soul. The last few bends of the road unraveled. He could finally see the large log structure standing on its rocky outcrop, with the expansive balcony hanging a few hundred feet over the blue waters. The lake was stretching to the horizon, with green hills all around. A few gray and green islands dotted its surface like mossy rocks fallen on a paved road. One side of the house and most of the outbuildings were under the canopy of towering pine trees, giving it a semi-permanent shade. The sun was still high on this beautiful, early fall, day. The air was fragrant and crisp.
A broad smile lighted Ludger’s face as he spoke aloud to himself.
“Home…, finally…”
Bacchus, at his side, was wagging his stubby tail and whelping with joy. He never liked the city and was happy to be home, too.
He let the vehicle roll to a stop and enjoyed the view from higher grounds. He then drove slowly and parked by the main entrance. Bacchus jumped over the side of the truck and ran happily under the tall canopy of trees, barking wildly, and rolling in the thick carpet of pine needles. Ludger got out in a more conventional fashion, and he took his briefcase and the bags of groceries he had bought on his way over. He slowly walked to the massive front door.
Looking back he bellowed.
“Bacchus…, come on in. We’ll go for a walk later, after I’ve changed.”
He opened the door and walked in. He put his load down on a narrow table by the wall and disarmed the security system by keying his entrance code.
Bacchus came trotting in, at his heals.
“Good dog….” He said.
He picked up the bags of groceries and dropped them on the kitchen’s counter. He then put his briefcase on his desk. He went up to his bedroom suite, walked straight into the dressing room, kicked off his shoes, put his tweed jacket on a hanger as he quickly undressed. He walked into the shower and turned on the cold water. He let the frigid blast stimulate his body. After a few minutes he walked out of the ceramic enclosure fully revitalized. He vigorously toweled himself dry.
He looked at the reflection of his muscular body in a full-length mirror. His wide shoulders and thick chest tapered to a flat stomach. He found, with disgust, the merest hint of flabbiness there. His massive leg showed no sign of weakness.
He would have to work harder around the house, this weekend, to compensate for a week without much physical exertion, except for his thrice-weekly workout with Master Yakumi, his martial arts teacher.
Ludger put on a thick pair of woolen socks, a spongy cotton, sweat suit and his favorite leather moccasins. He went back down to the kitchen and unpacked and put away the groceries. Not sure yet of what he would like for supper he rummaged through the large built in refrigerator. He finally settled for a good size piece of beef tenderloin, a fresh tomato salad and some homemade béarnaise sauce.
Bacchus sneaked in behind him, and jumped on his back playfully knocking him down and started to lick his face.
“OK…,OK….” He said. “It’s time for a long walk, but before we leave, I have to go to the wine cellar.”
He ran down into the finished basement and walked in the large, temperature controlled wine cellar. He chose a 1979 Saint-Julien from his favorite estate Chateau Gruaud-Larose, a velvety smooth, robust wine that suited his mood for the evening. After leaving the bottle in the kitchen he left the house for a long brisk walk.
*
After two hours of what now felt like forced march, Ludger had finally made peace with himself. His mind was at ease and he was totally in touch with the environment. It was a feeling that he only attained when he was at his retreat. He was aware of all that was around him, from the smallest blade of grass to the tallest tree. It felt as if energy was flowing between the earth and him.
He stopped in a shady area of the trail, where he could admire the scenery. He sat on a large rock to catch his breath. After a few moments of dazed contemplation, he noticed that he had worked out a ferocious appetite. He looked down to the spot where Bacchus was resting and said.
“Lets go have supper, I’m starving.”
The dog, showing great excitement, started running toward the house. Ludger happily followed and reached the door on Bacchus’s heels. He went in straight to the kitchen and prepared a big bowl of homemade lamb stew with rice for the dog and put a big bowl of fresh water on the floor next to the stew. He then went up to his dressing room and took another cold shower to wash of the sweat from the hard walk.
While he was under the cold stream, Ludger thought that he heard the telephone ring, but dismissed the idea. He quickly got dressed in a fresh sweat suit. He went back to the kitchen to get supper started. As he was at work preparing the tomato salad, he noticed that he had indeed received messages while he was away. The prompt light on the telephone answering machine was flashing urgently. Ludger grudgingly went to the infernal contraption to retrieve his messages.
He pressed the playback button and after a loud beep the deep voice of Tony Spisson, his partner in the design firm, came on.
“Ludger…, we need you immediately, at the office, to straighten the City Hall deal. There are problems with some of the suppliers. Call me as soon as you get in. Bye….”
After a short pause and another beep, his ex-wife Maggy started lecturing.
“Ludger…, the ceiling of the penthouse is cracked. Since your name is still on the lease papers, I think that you should pay for the repairs! My lawyer will be calling you next week.”
In just a short minute Ludger’s hopes for a nice relaxing weekend had just been shattered. In a daze he went to the counter, where the bottle of wine had been sitting. He opened it. Before pouring himself a glass he decided to let it breathe instead as he felt he needed something stronger. He went to the wet bar in the living room and poured himself a shot of Laphroig single malt in a heavy bottomed glass and quickly drank it. The powerful taste of the peaty draught sent shivers down his spine, but it brought him back to reality. He put a few ice cubes from the ice machine in his glass and splashed himself a healthier dose of his favorite poison.
“How dare they try to ruin my peace and quiet at home.” He said aloud, under the quizzical stare of Bacchus. “I’ll show them…. I’m going to a place where no one will ever find me for a few days. I will totally ignore those messages.”
Looking down at Bacchus, he continued.
“Tomorrow morning we’re going hunting.”
Ludger was fuming. He could not believe the nerve of these people. They knew better than to bother him at home. He was pacing back and forth in the kitchen and suddenly decided to sit down and have another sip before supper.
He took his glass to the living room, then sat down in his favorite leather easy chair. He had a sip from his second glassful and turned on the giant projection TV. The latest James Bond movie was scheduled to start in a few minutes, on one of the pay-TV channels that his satellite dish was programmed to receive. Dazzling promos of future attractions were being showed. Ludger lowered the sound volume.
He twirled his glass between his fingers listening to the tinkling of the ice cubes, and he concentrated on the patterns that the pungent deep amber liquid was creating. He absent-mindedly took in the bouquet and finally had another sip. The familiar sound of the movie theme filled the background. He had finally decided which hunting spot he would drive to in the morning. The world was old enough to go on without him for a few days, without collapsing.
As the theatrical story evolved before his eyes he finally paid more attention to it. He started to relax a little. As he finished sipping his glass of frog, Ludger went to the kitchen. He finished preparing his meal. He brought his supper to the living room, on a rolling table, poured himself some Gruaud-Larose in a tall crystal glass, and started eating with enthusiasm.
After the last morsel of food was devoured, he reclined in his comfortable easy chair to enjoy the remainder of the movie. Later in the evening, as he noticed that his bottle was empty, Ludger was drowsy and could no concentrate on the picture. He was feeling the effects of the alcohol. He finally fell asleep in his comfortable chair.
*
Consciousness came back to Ludger’s foggy mind around 2 am. He could only see electronic snow on his giant TV screen. He turned off the set. Bacchus was pacing restlessly the living room, as if something dreadful was about to happen.
As Ludger was trying to calm the dog, the lights went off suddenly. In the dark he fumbled toward his desk and found it with his left knee. Cursing, he took a large electric torch from a drawer, then went to the electrical panel. He found out that it was a power failure, not an overload as he had first thought. After a few minutes, automatically his powerful diesel generator rumbled to life and the lights came back on.
He climbed the stairs to his bedroom, his left knee still smarting from the impact with the desk. He rolled into bed without first undressing. He fell asleep almost immediately.
Ludger had not been sleeping for more than an hour, when some tremors, affecting the entire house, awoke him with a start. It felt like an underground rumbling similar to blasting in a mine. He got up, his head throbbing, his knee sore. He looked outside to find out the cause of the commotion. He was surprised to see the sky lit by some beautiful aurora borealis. The northern lights were dancing in the air making never-ending patterns. He was too tired to admire the spectacle. Promptly returning to his bed, he fell back in a restless sleep.
*
Ludger was a disembodied entity floating in the mist over his home. He could feel the sweet nectar of the mist in his mouth. He was suddenly travelling at a terrifying speed through darkness, as a gigantic blue ball was receding from him, quickly disappearing. Like expensive special effects in a sci-fi movie he was now flying at warp speed through a starscape. Another giant globe was now on a collision course with him. Before he had time to think about the imminent impact, he was again floating over his home. Blackness slowly engulfed him…
He was now floating over a parched desert landscape. Two suns were baking blackened rocks and sand mercifully. He could not feel their heat. On the horizon he could see a dark ominous mountain range, but his view was partially hidden by a localized accumulation of fog. His vision started to blur as he felt a certain lapse of consciousness. He was now over a lush cultivated field by a majestic river. Some farmers were picking their crops and loading wagons, which were pulled by large muscular oxen. In the distance stood a large city of low wooden buildings, surrounded by a large wall of sturdy tree trunks. A procession of oxen powered wagons were entering the city through a large gate, complete with massive wooden doors. Some were going to an open-air market that was stretching as far as he could see. Others went to tall circular buildings that looked like grain silos.
Ludger tried to talk to some of the farmers, but they did not seem to notice his presence. The scenery again started to shift before him. He was now over a large trade city by the sea with a busy port full of large square-rigged sailboats. Before Ludger realized it, he was again in another location. This time it was a large city, sprawling on both sides of the mouth of a river. It was surrounding a large egg-shaped island whose broader end was facing the open sea. At the center of this island stood a magnificent stone palace with graciously slim towers right out of fairy tales.
Surrounding the elegant palace were elaborate gardens that were themselves surrounded by a massive wall and a wide moat. Another thick wall was around the perimeter of the island, which was linked to the mainland by seven stone bridges. From there the city had grown in concentric rings around the island on both sides of the river.
The scene slowly started to dissolve and again darkness was upon him…
Ludger was now a passive witness to events unraveling in front of his eyes at an accelerated pace.
Everything had an unfocussed look about them.
First, a tall dark haired man in a jet-black cloak was standing in the middle of a battlefield littered with bodies. At his feet lay unconscious a gray haired robust man in a intricately ornate suit of armor. In his hands he held a large convoluted key and a small intricately carve golden wand with a large stone at its tip. The tall man took an abandoned sword from the field. Holding it point down with both hands, he plunged it in the chest of the old man. To his dismay, as the old man expired, the golden wand’s contours shimmered and suddenly disappeared. With a murderous look in his eyes he pried the large key from the hand of the dead man and walked away.
A powerful young man, with tousled red hair sits with a group of men. They are discussing the chances of resisting another attack from the northwest. Back to the tall man lecturing in an alien tongue to hordes of strange creatures, in a valley between dark mountains.
He was now over the farmland that he had seen earlier. It was devastated by severe drought. The river itself had narrowed to a creek. At the city with the palace, the gardens are now parched and unkempt. In a garrison-city the soldiers are weak and tired after a long battle. In the trade city, a fat man dressed in painfully colorful robes, was talking to envoys from a distant land. Around the city the citizen are growing restless in these times of famine.
In a distant land a distinguished older gentleman is pondering the possibility of attacking the Kingdom to protect his own empire from eventual attacks.
All of these scenes were making Ludger’s mind hurt in an attempt to understand their vague meanings. As they sped up he could not discern their contents any more. His numb brain registered only vague concepts. Suddenly the images froze and he was looking into the violet eyes of a sensuous young woman, who was brushing her long dark red hair in front of a mirror. He tried to talk to her, but she was not aware of his presence. Again blackness engulfed him…
Ludger was in front of the tall, dark haired man, who was pointing a thin sword at his head. This time it felt as it was real as he could smell some exotic perfume emanating from the man. With a voice that sent chills through Ludger’s bones, the man said.
“You do not belong here, and I will make sure that you will not meddle with my affairs.”
With that said, the man thrust the sword at Ludger’s head. When the gleaming tip was about to pierce him, he woke up, startled, in his own bed, his body covered in cold sweat. A hint of exotic perfume clung to his clothes.
Ludger put his head back on his pillow. He felt somewhat hungover. He promised himself, as one usually do, to never drink again, for fear of having to relive such vivid nightmares. When his heartbeat slowed down to a reasonable rate, he wondered if his dreams had any hidden meanings. He finally decided that the psychological implications were too dreadful to even consider. He turned to his left side in his favorite sleeping position and promptly went back to a deep slumber.
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From 1990: One Way Ticket To Talenthar
The Sass
Prologue
It was a dark, cluttered, rectangular room, carved out of solid rock, in a keep that was itself carved out of a gigantic monolith, all blackened and cracked as if it had been exposed to tremendous heat and energy. In the middle of this room stood a gray flecked pedestal, hewn from a colossal block of granite. A large hemispherical bowl of black enameled metal, engraved with golden cabalistic signs, sat in a hollow on its polished top. An aura of intense energy surrounded this bowl, and in it a deep blue, shimmering and smoking substance, looking like shiny molten metal, cast eerie lights on to the faces of the small group of people assembled around its perimeter.
The bulkiest member of the assembled group, an imposing figure towering over the others, garbed in his Wizard’s dark midnight blue silk robes embroidered in gold threads with similar symbols to the ones on the black bowl. His white beard and hair were standing on end as if they were charged with static electricity. He spoke in a deep melodious voice, “Eyegar, bring me the rosin, this incantation well needs clearing.”
“Yes, Master Andrack,” responded the tall, gaunt, elderly man, dressed in a gray morning suit, his short gray hair slicked impeccably on his head. He looked more like a well-groomed butler than a Wizard’s assistant. He soundlessly left the group, marching solemnly toward a massive table of dark wood so shiny that the room reflected on it’s polished surface. It was standing against the stone wall of the room and looked like it had grown out of the floor, which it probably did. Even though the table’s legs were squared off tree trunks, they seemed barely strong enough to support the accumulated weight of the phials, beakers and leather bound tomes that lay in a total disarray on its top.
As if the clutter of the table made some sense to him, Eyegar chose, without hesitation, a small clay pot filled with an orange powder. He put it on a silver tray, and brought it back to Master Andrack. The old wizard curtly acknowledged his assistant and took the pot from the tray. He then turned his gaze to the other five.
His eyes first settled on the dark, chiseled features of Chargoff, the General of the Kingdom’s armies. A grisly veteran of the Magic War, he stood ramrod straight in his lightweight, black chainmail. His strong chiseled features, were in contrast to a thick crop of black hair cut in a brush cut that covered his head like a helmet. His piercing gray eyes were holding Andrack’s gaze without flinching. He was a long time friend and ally of Andrack. A look of deep concern was etched on his face.
Next to Chargoff was an eager, powerfully built young man, Prince Arexis. He was dressed in deep emerald green court doublets, in which he seem to be uncomfortable, as if he was more accustomed to be in less formal clothing. A thick mane of curly red hair covered his head and a cropped beard adorned his face. He was the only son of the late, King Bluthor, Andrack’s best friend that had been lost in the Magic War. He was the unseasoned heir to the throne. He looked deeply worried and his eyes were darting from the incantation well to Andrack’s face as if hoping for a quick solution to his worries.
At the thought of his old friend, a smile quickly passed on Andrack’s wrinkled face. How Arexis reminded him of a young Bluthor, the same eagerness, the same open face and bright eyes, the same red tousled hair. Not so his sister, Princess Nathalia, who even barely out of her teens, was regally poised in her long black silk dress molded to her athletic body. Her head was crowned in dark, shoulder length, straight red hair. Where her brother was outgoing and eager, she was reserved and poised. Used to get her own way, she had been the terror of the castle’s staff when growing up. She still had problems getting along with anybody but her best friend and Lady in waiting, Maria.
To her right was a strange looking creature dressed in dark green velvet shorts complete with bright red suspenders. It had long thin hairy limbs with long claws on his naked toes and fingers, a short snout with a grin full of sharp teeth, wide set intelligent eyes and large pointy ears. This picturesque character was Dregnar, an intellectual troll, a rare species of trolls with lightning quick intellect. He had been in the service of the royal family for as long as anyone could remember.
Looking straight back at Andrack was a stout, middle-aged man with graying straight shoulder length hair. Garbed in long dark cleric’s robes with little adornments, he had been a torn in his side since they had met. Balnor, the court patriarch, did not trust magic. He was always quick to point it out. Andrack held out his stare for a moment, then cleared his throat. He said, “I will now show you the chosen one.”
His practiced fingers looked like butterflies when they traced arcane symbols in the air over the shimmering surface of the incantation well. After a timeless period of mesmerizing flight, they took a pinch of the orange powder from the little clay pot, and sprinkled it onto the cloudy surface of the liquid. With a hissing sound, and short green flames, the liquid stopped shimmering and cleared itself into a dark, highly polished metallic surface. Pictures started flickering on it. At first stars moving by at a tremendous speed, then a blue ball on a black velvet background, then white puffy high clouds through which the perspective dove on its way to the ground, finally, a dark unpaved road through a coniferous forest. In the distance a red box-shaped contraption on wheels was following the road. The red thing had a toothless grin and fiery eyes spitting blinding light. It was bouncing down the rough road at a terrifying pace. On its back sat a powerfully built man in his early thirties. A short beard and curly brown hair framed his face. Next to him was a large salt and pepper dog, powerful muscles rippling under its coat as it fought to keep its balance.
Balnor said with a sneer, “So, this is your hero. He does not look like much to me.”
Master Andrack replied, “My magic revealed that this is the only person left in the universe that can help us.”
Dregnar’s squeaky voice interrupted, “He his riding that strange beast, isn’t he? Only a hero could be riding something so fierce. Look at it bounce and growl!”
Andrack looked at Balnor, and said, “He is our only hope. My magic is depleted and I cannot fight Magdar in the upcoming conflict.”
“You could not fight Magdar, either, last time.” Interrupted Balnor.
“I was the only member of the Order of Wizards who survived the War.”
Before the argument could degenerate further, Arexis cut in sharply, “Stop bickering. It is important to know if it is worth depleting Andrack’s magic to bring an unknown warrior to our realm.”
Nathalia added, “We are not even sure that he will help us.”
In a quiet, controlled voiced, Chargoff said, “If we do not bring the chosen one, Magdar will surely be freed and chaos is assured. You, Nathalia, he has chosen as his bride. The rivers of Gods and Power have dried up, and there is a major drought and famine. The Kingdom cannot raise an army big enough to combat Magdar’s hordes. Your brother, Arexis, is not King yet and cannot command the other states. Andrack’s magic can only do one last thing, and it is to bring the chosen stranger. Do we have any other choice?”
After a long moment of silence, Arexis looked into everyone’s eyes. He finally stopped at Andrack’s trying to find an answer to the dilemma in the large Wizard’s gaze.
With a sigh he said, “You are right, I do not think that we have any alternative. Let us bring the chosen one.”
Andrack replied solemnly, “So be it.”
He then started chanting a long incantation in a deep droning voice, as his eyes rolled back and his fingers resumed their aerial dance. A green glowing cloud started to collect at the surface of the liquid in the bowl, its Inner Light became brighter to the point that it was painful to look at. As they stood back in awe, a powerful beam of white light shot out of the iridescent cloud, through the solid stone of the roof, toward the starry sky.
From one of the faint stars lighting the night’s sky, a bright beam of blue light emerged from it. Like a giant bolt of lightning it struck the middle of the burned desert, between the Gates of Doom and Andrack’s keep. A terrifying tremor shook the Kingdom. A gigantic crater, covered in mist, was left by the impact.
Andrack raised his eyes, deep exhaustion and strain showing in them, and he looked at the others. He said in a tired voice, “The deed is done.”
As soon as these words escaped his mouth, his huge form gently collapsed to the ground to the consternation of the others.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
From 1990: One Way Ticket To Talenthar
The Sass
March 13, 2012
The previous post is almost a couple of years old. A lot has happened since then and this blog was completely forgotten. Last week we started to revamp the dozen or so sites we support on this host, one of many we use for our clients. This morning I remembered this blog and decided to see where it stood. What I found was not good as it looked like it was hacked a while back when our host got hacked itself. We had taken measures to prevent further occurrences on all our other sites except this one.
I have just updated the really antiquated version of WordPress this site was running on after making sure that everything was cleaned out first. I deactivated the old theme which is no longer supported and this time we will really make a new theme and start posting again. Things have been overdue for too long. I will be back with news and some new content shortly.
The Sass
June 28, 2010
I have just moved this blog to a new host, from our internal server here at the office. The site is showing off a lot of wear and tear and suffering from moving from a Windows Server to a Linux on. I also noticed that it is running an antiquated version of WordPress. In the coming week I will start sprucing up the place and then start posting regularly again. In the meantime, bear with me until I find time to clean up this site as I am in the process of also moving a dozen other sites!
The Sass
April 25, 2009
When I became conscious, there was absolute nothingness. There was no light, no sound, no substance, nothing. The universe was not empty. Emptiness would infer the absence of something. There was absolutely nothing.
Slowly, after a timeless interval, I became aware of my essence, of my consciousness. It dawned on me that there must be a reason for my presence. I pondered the concept for a while. I finally realized that I had to find out about my environment. I grasped about the concept of seeing where I was, but I could not see. Something whispered in my mind; that to see, I needed some light. The concept seemed interesting. I thought about it for a while; and then, there was light.
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From 1980: Nothing
The Sass
April 20, 2009
Back in 1989 I took a sabbatical to sort some things happening in both my personal and business lives. During that period of reassessment I also sat down and wrote a fantasy novel that was called “One way ticket to Talenthar“. Strangely it was mostly written by going to bed at night thinking of the plot of the story and my subconscious mind would fill in the plotline and character dialogs overnight and during the following day I would tediously write the story by hand as I was computerless during that period. The entire process repeated itself over a period of some months and then I borrowed my young cousin’s computer during his summer vacations while he was not using it for school, and I typed in the entire thing using my trusty old DOS WordPerfect floppies.
The original manuscript is still in storage somewhere in my uncle’s basement back in Canada and I have the original WordPerfect documents in my backups here at the office. I had some interest of publishing it at the time and I sent the story out. Through a friend some British editor showed some minor interest, but the story stood mainly untouched for all of those years as I lost interest of the endless cycle of sending proposals and waiting for refusals.
For many years I have wanted to edit the story again and flesh up the last third of it, as the plotline was rushing to its conclusion and was lacking details. I started a few times to do it, but never was in a situation where I could give it the time it needed. Most recently last summer I wrote a completely new version of the prologue based on a totally different point of view, to better give life to the world of the story. I really liked that new version, but time constraints yet again did not permit me to continue rewriting the story. The worse is that due to a combination of things totally outside my control (losing my writing computer’s hard drive and the network storage unit of the office on the same day) all of that work was lost. I found out this morning when I went looking for the new documents.
I still have an inkling of what I had written there, even if it is just a general idea, and I plan to start the rewrite yet another time. This time, to make sure I stick to my ideas I will first publish the original work followed by the rewritten one bit by bit or chapter by chapter, whatever fits my schedule best. I will start the project in the coming days and try to stick to a fairly regular schedule as best as I can humanly, or better sassquatchly!
Until then!
The Sass
April 18, 2009
This is the first post in many years, and hopefully it will be the start of regular posting again. A lot has happened in my life in the last few years, (including a few moves including) one following the first one by 3 weeks as we had moved into the house from hell. Our doggies celebrated their second anniversary a few weeks back and when I posted last they were just a few months old. Now they weigh more than 65Kg (~145 pounds) and they are our pride and joy.?
This blog started as a place on the Web, to post my writing and had somewhat evolved into a once in a while diary of things happening in my life. In the last few days I had started thinking about fiction writing again, and I thought about reviving this blog. The goals of the new version would be to publish some of fiction I had written ages ago, and new stories that has been circling in my mind for years. I read the ‘About The Sass’ entry here and it was almost exactly what I have in mind now, and what I had in mind when I first started. I guess that now I will have to finally deliver on it.?
In the coming weeks I plan to remove the cobwebs from the blog, a task I started today by removing all the posts that were not related to what I want this blog to be. What are left are a few very old stories and some general entries. What I plan to do is first research what happened in blog technology in the intervening years and bring the backend of the blog into the modern world, and then do a bit of sprucing up to the looks which were temporary when I did them years ago. I will then start publishing, chapter by chapter, a fantasy novel I wrote back in 1989? I hope that all the friends and family that were faithful readers in the old days will like what I will do now, and that new friends will become regular readers. Thanks for the patience??
The Sass
August 17, 2006
Bill regained consciousness a few hours later. He was hanging sideways from his broken harness. Around him he heard soft moans of pain emanating from the lips of his crewmates. He struggled helplessly to extirpate himself from the remains of his harness.
Suddenly, a massive arm draped in coarse fibrous cloth easily pulled him up to his feet. He turned toward his benefactor. Bill choked in his own fears. He was looking directly into an alien face. The creature was bipedal and stood taller than himself. It was of more massive proportions. Its physiognomy was definitively of saurian origin.
Bill could not believe what he had done to his world. It dawned on him that all that he had known and loved, including Sheila, were now gone.
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From 1990: A Time Conundrum
The Sass
August 10, 2006
To Bill, who was on his third launch, the feeling accompanying time travel was expected, if not comfortable. It felt as if you were flattened out of existence then inflated back to life. As usual he felt somewhat disoriented after the jump. They stood in the emptiness of space in another time. After taking a bearing Rudder contacted Dr. Osbourne, they were on track. They would only have to set course for the black hole to collect it. He punched in the coordinates. The control panel in front of him came alive. The powerful thrusters hissed loudly as their jet of ionized matter propelled them to their destiny.
After a few hours of monotonous travel, alarm bells broke the silence that had set amongst the crew. They were near the black hole. Dr. Hillzinger went to his equipment, which had been installed in the large cargo bay. He quickly set his machinery in action. The drone of the ships mighty fusion generators increased in pitch under the load of the containment system. Bill looked out the window and did not notice anything unusual going on. He said, to no one in particular.
“I do not see the black hole. Are you sure it is there?”
Dr. Hillzinger replied. “It is of very small size, only a few centimetres in diameter. Though its mass is tremendous you will not see its effect due to the lack of matter entering it. If we were to collide with it, it would neatly bore a hole through the ship. When the containment field will be established there will be emission of high energy x-rays as the stray particles from the field enters it. Any matter in its vicinity will become ionized by the x-rays. You will see a glowing aura around the black hole.”
Hillzinger turned back toward his equipment and Phil joined him to calibrate the field. Everybody were busy around Sven and Bill. They felt somewhat left out as they watched, with interest, the activity around them. Soon the drone of the fusion generator reached a climax and a crackling ball of energy stood in front of the time capsule. Phil, using an electromagnetic traction device, skillfully captured the black hole and stored it in a containment cell in the cargo bay. He cheerfully slapped his thighs and turned toward Bill. He said.
“See, there was nothing to it.”
Bill smiled. He asked. “Do we have time to go have a look at earth before we set our plan into motion? I would like to have a look at what we are trying to preserve.”
Rudder, from his command seat, yelled at the men assembled in the cargo hold.
“If you want to go to earth first, we should go right now. We only have a few hours before our appointed meeting with the asteroid. We will go and have a quick look.
The thrusters throbbed back to life and they were on their way to earth. The view of the planet, as they approached was familiar to the crew. It had not changed drastically in the intervening eons. They touched down in a lush tropical area. They observed the scenery through the ships monitoring systems. They did not have the time for a full blown outing. Animal life teemed in the lowland area forested with massive fern trees. They caught the occasional glimpse of a massive sauropod lumbering through the tall plants.
Bill was amazed at the sight of the fauna and flora untouched by man. This was a dream come true. He wished that Sheila was with him to enjoy the experience. Their stay was too short. Their senses had just been teased by the complexity of the Late Cretaceous ecosystems, when they had to leave. Bill hoped that one day they would be able to study this unspoiled habitat at leisure. But a more pressing engagement awaited them. They reluctantly left the planet’s surface, the thrusters at full blast.
The trip to the rendezvous point with the asteroid was a short one. The crew got busy calculating the coordinates for the release of the black hole. Bill felt somewhat left out of the process. He anxiously looked on as they worked. Soon the machinery was set in motions. Phil used the electromagnetic traction beam to manoeuvre the black hole outside the cargo bay. After double checking his computations Dr. Hillzinger instructed Phil to use an impulse beam to propel the contained black hole towards the asteroid.
After a few wrenching minutes, the crackling ball of energy, containing the black hole, collided with the asteroid. A fiery release of energy ensued. In the aftermath of the collision the asteroid lost part of its mass. This matter was absorbed by the black hole. The result was a deviation of the asteroid’s path by a few degrees. Due to their distance from earth, this was enough to prevent a direct impact with the planet. The tidal forces from the close miss would create havoc with the earthly environment, but it would be a lot less destructive than a direct hit.
With the tremendous release of energy from the collision a great deal of static prevented communication with home base. It did not worry the crew who had been expecting it. Rudder Rudigast, with the help of Gina Lesage, set the coordinates for their return home. There would be a short delay before the capsule’s capacitors would reach full charge. At that point they would return to the Institute.
Bill spent this time thinking about his future with Sheila. This last week had been one of the happiest of his life. The woman he had always dream about, loved him after all. It had only been his shyness that had prevented them from hitting it on earlier. His new work association with Sven Blomquist and Sheila opened so many new possibilities that it would take a lifetime to unravel all of them. Both his personal and work life were at their zenith.
Bill’s ruminations were interrupted by Rudder’s voice. “We will be proceeding with time transfer in thirty seconds. Please brace yourselves.”
The crew experienced the now familiar sensation. When they emerged at the other end of the time warp, they were greeted by billowing clouds of noxious smoke. They were caught in a tremendous storm raging over an immense active volcano. Rudder controlled their position. He yelled in a high pitched hysterical voice, as he fought with the capsule’s controls.
“According to my instruments we are directly over where the Institute should be. I don’t know what happened while we were gone, but a massive volcano lies in its place. I will try to set us down.”
While Rudder and Gina were busy at the controls, the remainder of the crew prepared themselves for the worse. They buckled their safety harnesses tightly. All were tossed and buffeted as the experienced pilots tried to find a proper spot for a landing. A brief respite from the storm permitted them to locate such an area. Rudder aimed the capsule toward it, as the storm doubled in intensity. Any attempt at a soft landing was futile. Rocked by the storm the ponderous mass of the shuttle hit the ground with a terrifying crash. Only its great strength prevented it from rupturing. All aboard were knocked unconscious by the impact.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
From 1990: A Time Conundrum
The Sass
August 6, 2006
The morning of their flight was suddenly upon them. All had been checked and double checked. Tension filled the air. The scientists paced the floor nervously while the technicians attended to last minute details. Beside the regular crew of Rudder Rudigast and Gina Lesage, Dr. Hillzinger, Phil Redbird, Sven and Bill would be passengers of the capsule. Sheila Osbourne would remain behind to monitor her equipment from the Institute’s control room.
She cornered Bill before he was ready to embark. She kissed him deeply and said.
“Now that the experiment is almost over I am looking forward to spend more time with you. And I do not mean work time. Though there is some research that I would not mind doing with you.”
On that she hugged him suggestively and escorted him to the capsule’s narrow hatch, where they parted company. Bill joined the rest of the crew in the cabin where everyone was already preparing for the time flight. He buckled himself in a comfortable seat. While the flight crew was going through the final checklist Bill leaned to-ward Sven. He said.
“Do you think that we are doing the right thing? I feel somewhat like god. I hope that we are not playing with something that we cannot handle.”
Sven answered. “It sounds to me like you are getting cold feet. You know as well as I do that we are doing this for the good of mankind.”
“I know…, it’s just that I am anxious to get going. Actually I am more anxious to come back to Sheila.”
Sven laughed heartily. He replied. “It is nice to see that the shy Dr. Livingston is finally coming out of his shell. Don’t worry we will be back in time for supper. You will be able to go out with your cherished Sheila.”
Their discussion was interrupted by Rudder’s voice. He was saying. “We are about to disconnect the umbilicals. There will be a short period of darkness before we go to internal power.”
The lights blinked on and off a few times then stabilized. A soft hum enveloped them. Rudder’s voice came back on.
“Please get ready for time transfer. We will be going in one minute.”
Bill looked out the small aperture in the shuttle’s side. He caught one last glimpse of Sheila, standing behind her console, before his vision became blurry.
From Sheila’s point of view the jump appeared normal. First the outline of the time capsule became blurry, then it flattened itself into nothingness with a loud clap. She hoped that all was as well as it appeared. She had more riding on this launch than usual, Bill was aboard.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
From 1990: A Time Conundrum
The Sass