Fiction




Seeds

Boran shuffled paper across his desk. Production reports, intelligence reports, statistics for port usage. Lots of things he could look at but not change without permission. The door opened and his assistant bore another armful of documents. �I thought you were going down to the docks?�

�Janssen. Commander Janssen has something more important to see me about. He just has not called for me yet.� The young man smiled at his boss. There could only be a few years difference in their ages- when he still lived in the city Boran could have played in the municipal park with Aylo. Now he had to be guarded in what he said, for both their sakes. A shame, Aylo was a handsome man. �What do you have for me?�

�Traffic reports from the railroad. There is a bottleneck becoming evident in the southern marshalling yards. A report of possible sabotage on the Plains, though it looks to me as if someone is trying to cover for failing in their routine maintenance duties. And these, which are eyes only sealed.� Aylo dropped the last three bundles with a hint of anger. So hard, in fact, that the seal on the top one popped off.

�How are conditions in the city?�

�Sir?�

�Not the propaganda about the people of Cora and Munss welcoming their liberation. How are people coping, really? I know that the amount of food coming into the cities- and staying- is a lot lower for the civilian population than it was last season. It will be the long nights soon enough, and if we have been starving people through the fat season that is when they will start dying.�

�There are those who would benefit from more food, sir. That is always true.�

�The young, the old and the sick?�

�Sir.�

�I will suggest to Commander Janssen that too many deaths amongst the citizenry would have an adverse effect upon the workers and consequently production. He may respond.�

�Thank you sir.� Aylo turned to leave, �If I may say so sir, you are certainly more considerate than many in the command.�

�Thank you Aylo. Do not tell anyone else that though.�

�Sir.�

Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ- Oasis – (What’s The Story) Morning Glory?




I’ve been trying to think of titles for what I’m currently calling Seeds. So far I’ve come up with Silver Tower (already a book by Dale Brown and only referring to one aspect of the story) or Islands in Time (or Space. I might as well go the hwole hog and call it Islands in the Stream so Dolly and Kenny can sing the movie adaptation’s theme tune.)

They had marched hard for two days, making the most of the pack animals to speed their movements, then discarded them and cut over into another valley on foot. Now they were approaching their planned camp. Mov had scouted and reported the road was so overgrown it couldn�t have been used for several seasons.

The construction had collapsed in several places, where it clung to the steepest cliff face, but a way could always be found in single file. Near the head of the valley, it found its way back onto firm ground. There was machinery now- old, steam driven things rusting in overgrown parks. Ahead, a great scar in the mountain face was just visible behind screens of trees.

The scar was a great arched tunnel mouth. There was more machinery here, steam driven tracked trucks and a large conveyor bearing rocks from the darkness. Halfway through a shift, everyone had downed tools and left. �What is this place?� Rey asked.

�The Karr tunnel.� Lensman told him, �One of the greatest engineering failures of all time. It was supposed to join the east and west sides of the range far to the south of the Arril pass. They broke countless machines, killed a hundred or so workers and then just ran out of money. It bankrupted my mother�s side of the family.�

�This is to be our base of operations? Do the southerners know of its existence?�

�Everyone knows of it, but very few think about it. Besides, it is a very defensible position. We rest here for a few days and then start expeditions.�

Kess and Mov were already marking out fire zones for defence. They had found a steam shovel, the bucket resting on an outcrop. �This ferrous must be two or three digits thick. We could mount an autogun in here and catch them as they come up the road.�

Mov nodded, �It would be very hard to get above us as well. On the nearside here, they would have to cross our field of fire before they could even start climbing. And on the far side, it is hardly to their advantage.�

�We can set up trip mines and calibrate the bomb lobbers to hit the far side of that rise. Unless they send an army after us it will be another unfair fight.�

�You say that like it is a bad thing, youngster.�

Radio Ass Kiss- Elastica- The Menace, The Wannadies – Bagsy Me.




Seeds

They had taken crude measurements and determined the island�s daily path. It described a rough ellipse- North and West as the tide flowed that way, then South and East as it waned. Always, on the horizon in one direction or another, heavier swells than they sailed in could be seen breaking against some underwater obstruction.

The dead zone was a natural trap for flotsam. On the third day Bobb spotted a wooden barrel floating close to the north shore and swam it in. Salt water had leached in to corrupt the alcoholic contents, but the metal bands that held it together, and the wood itself, could be put to use. The metal was fashioned into a grapple and attached to the length of rope to haul in floating material without getting wet feet. Small strips became a barbed points and Sheel quickly became adept at harpooning fish.

Day by day the camp grew. A great expanse of rubberised canvas became both a bivouac off the single tree and a night-time collector of condensing dew. Bottles gave up their contents and became storage or were fashioned into lenses for the solar still and cooker Gim was building. They had even started farming, after a fashion, cultivating furrows of the algae for soups and planting seeds from the few fruit that washed up whole.

Sheel was at the fishing hole they had hacked through the roots near the shore. She had baited it with handfuls of the surface algae, so much richer than the stuff that grew below the waterline, and was waiting with a harpoon. Bobb watched as she shifted slightly. There was a movement just at the edge of light�s penetration, but she didn�t aim directly at it. Slightly to the right there was another movement, closer to the surface, the coil of a long thin body tracking the smaller fish. Sheel threw the harpoon with the whole of her body. It dug in to its target, and moved sharply as the eel reacted. Grasping the very end of the long harpoon handle, Sheel used all her weight to drive it through the eel�s body.

Bobb made for one of the smaller spare harpoons, but Sheel, spotting him for the first time, shook her head and pointed at the rope trailing out of the fishing hole. They hauled back and brought the eel to the surface. It�s head broke water and flailed around, a many eyed, multi toothed thing like the one Bobb had seen on his first trip under the island.

�Damn! I should have hit it nearer the brain.� Sheel let out some slack and stepped a safe distance from the eel. Now she nodded at the other harpoons. Bobb picked one and circled around behind her. The eel�s eyes weren�t made for use out of water. It could see two shapes moving around it, with no clue which was closer or the greater threat. It feinted toward the smaller shape, which moved quickly away.

Bobb watched the eel whip toward Sheel and took the opportunity to jump in. He drove the harpoon home just behind the great jaws, pushing it through and wedging it in the ground.

�You missed the brain.� Sheel pointed out.

�Only by a little.� Bobb lied. They had cut up the first one they caught and identified the various organs. The primary stomach was just behind the jaws, directly behind a sphinctered gullet. Much further back, in a bulge under the first dorsal fin, was the brain. Sheel took the last harpoon and pushed it between the overlapping plates protecting the brain pan.

The eel still twitched, it would take a long time for all its nerves to process their final signals. They didn�t watch it, walking to the shore and staring at the nearest surf line. �That was the biggest so far.� Bobb commented.

�This end of our territory seems the most fertile for life, like the other has the richest plunder.�

�How long do you think we�ll be out here?�

�Possibly for ever. Maybe until the seasons change and storms rip our little home apart. We can live long enough to see either eventuality.�

�I�ll go for the first one. I don�t imagine this place grew to its current size between storm seasons. If there are any.

�Do you remember the stories of the outposters? How they survived for generations cut off from supply routes and outside communication.�

�You�re asking me to have your children?� Sheel laughed, then checked the look on Bobb�s face. �And Gim�s too? I mean, if you�re looking at breeding generations of descendants, you want them to start with as wide a gene pool as possible, don�t you.�

�You weren�t meant to take the suggestion that seriously. It was just an idea.�

�It stays an idea. I still think we�ll be rescued from our little paradise.�

The eel had stopped twitching. They set about cutting it up with knives fashioned from glass.

AM Radio- Fatboy Slim- Better Living Through Chemistry, Underworld-Dubnobasswithmyheadman, Joe Jackson- Stepping Out, The Very Best Of, The Wonderstuff- Love Bites And Bruises.

Gotta go- Beer!




In a couple of days I should have Another Education & Ruby Red prepared for downloading, for a small fee. There’ll be a couple of chapters that aren’t in the printed version and a whole bunch of graphics, such as the chapter splash pages from Education’s appearance in Ten Years Asleep. I’m also considering a members only section, with new material and completed works.

Seeds

It was an inspiring sight. All ten of the wings in service had finally formed a tactical flight. They were carefully arranged in a crescent, with the mountains behind and crews in front, for a commemorative picture.

After the sixth exposure, for good luck, the crews broke and the tractors came to back the wings into the hangars. The ground crew were nervous, there was only clearance of a few digits from the tips of the wings to the hangar walls. It would not do to damage the pride of the Southern air force through clumsy reversing.

Harren watched, not really worried, then waved to the pilot of one of the other wings. Mirl was another veteran of the Stumps. He had been looking at the sorry collection of them that had been evicted in favour of the wings. �By the Tower, I had hoped to never see another of those things. Two days now since I arrived here and I can see them from my billet. I swear the deserter squadrons didn�t know what they were in for, or they�d have taken the trip to the prison camps with their countrymen.�

They walked across the runway. At the western end there were two thousand spans of new tar pack. It had gone down recently and was still glossy black and incompletely cured. The runway was flanked by tall seed grasses. They supplied the base with some of its food, and would stop a Stump that missed a landing. Hitting the field with a wing would just turn it into so much chaff.

The wind grew. The seed grass rustled. On the far side of the river dust raised from the flat land and whorled around unseen attractors. �Why no farm land on that side?� Harren asked.

�The base commander wanted a good field of fire.� Mirl pointed out the guard towers arrayed from the northern edge of the base to the southern. �The river comes down from the mountains and bows around the base. Makes quite a good defensive line, but the seed grass grows taller than a man. A small force could have sneaked right to the river and crossed at its shallowest point. So he ordered a thousand span killing zone in every direction. Cut everything down and sowed the ground with caustic and salt so nothing could grow on it.�

�Drastic.�

�This is a deserter squadron. The Plains people hate the deserters more than us. One of the flight crews went off base just before I arrived, and didn�t come back. They were found yesterday, hanging from trees with spikes through their hands and feet and with their bellies split open so the insects could eat them alive.�

They passed the control tower, with its new RADIF direction finder array on the roof. �The base commander is sending the rest of the squadron up tomorrow to bomb the nearest town.�

�Will that stop other attacks?�

�More likely it will inspire them. Look at these.� Off to their left there was a large break in the seed grass. Nearly a hundred plane carcasses, biplane bombers, were parked haphazardly together. Some had been broken in the process, one large bunch had burnt, twisting together.

�Albos.�

�The same. The deserters flew these, before we put them in Stumps. They would be better planes, with decent engines. The ones they used couldn�t even move my motor trike. It would have been cheaper to refit those.�

�But it wouldn�t have looked as good.� Harren remembered the propaganda pictures of the Plains Loyalists, as the deserters were officially known, receiving the first of their superior Southern fighters.

The flight crews were converging on a small building near the barracks. �The seed ale is an acquired taste,� Mirl commented, �but the mechanics have a still which turns out a nasty liquor.�

�I�m not going to try and drink you under the table. I learnt that lesson last time.�

Sad songs say so much- Into The Eighties, Status Quo- 12 Gold Bars, Northern Soul Memories.




Chapter 1 of Seeds is up. There’ll be a whole front page as soon as I get a decent cover illustration done.

Horse had been a fighter pilot, back in the days of biplanes held together by string and prayers. He had fought in the Glacier War and was credited with ten kills, though he only accepted seven of them. Either figure made him the highest scoring veteran of the conflict still flying. Somewhere along the line he had foregone his given name and started going by his call sign, even after starting an air courier service upon discharge. After growing fat and happy on the profits he had allowed the company to be integrated with the air army as the supply division, as long as he could fly active service. The lure of battle took him to supply drops and spy landings, but today he was a passenger carrier to the chosen crews of Wasp squadron 3.

Reed took the co-pilot�s seat when it was offered. �Why not take your planes with you?� Horse enquired as he lined up along the main runway.

�Some younger crews are being rotated in, to get experience in the mountains. Maybe combat, the way events are progressing.�

�There�s definitely going to be combat. Something is coming I can tell you. It is only a little activity at each of my stops, but it all adds up.�

�You don�t gossip out of town about this, I hope.�

Horse guffawed as he throttled up. �I never get out of town. Everyone I know, eat with, drink with or sleep with serves in some way. Have you clipped that luscious new bombardier of yours yet? A nice looking one, her, none too fat, but nicely rounded.� They pulled off the ground, banked away from the mountains and began to climb.

�Have you clipped your co-pilot? Larin�s not on this flight, I notice.�

�Clipped her and promised to her. The medics have her off flying for a while, just in case.�

Reed considered this for a while. �You�re telling me there�s a little Horse on the way?�

�The first. Well, the first that I know of. I liberated a lot more than just Cora in the Glacier War, if you understand me.�

Disco Inferno- Apollo Four Forty- Getting High On Your Own Supply, Aim- Cold Water Music


Seeds

From above, the great river suddenly appeared from the forests, its tributaries were so shaded by overgrowth. Few from the outside had dared track its true source. One way or another, none had returned.

There was a village in among the trees, fugitives from the war which raged further south and wild men they had befriended. It was hard to spot, and impossible to approach undetected. The Lang made his arrival known well in advance. Coming from upstream on his three log raft his provenance was obvious. None of his observers raised a weapon.

A waterfall roared ahead, but there were landing stages well before the rapids began. Figures began to crowd the nearest stage. With careful strokes, the Lang headed for it.

The crowd drew back, leaving only one figure, a tall bearded man in a grey one-piece outfit with more pockets than seemed necessary. The Lang sprang up to the stage, converting his landing to a deep bow. Five young dockers leapt down and had his raft tied to before he spoke. �Sir, I request your permission to pass.� It was one of the plains dialects, he hoped he had judged the chieftain correctly.

The bearded man bowed deeply in reply, �Sir, it would be our honour to help you on your way. I am Morn, could I presume to ask your name?�

�I have yet to take one. It would be an honour to assume yours for my travels.�

The crowd whooped and the chieftain could not contain his grin. Such recognition from a holy man was more than any could hope for. �It is more than I deserve. Our pathetic village is yours for as long as you wish to stay.�

Right round like a record baby, right round- Oasis- Definitely Maybe, Kingmaker- In The Best Possible Taste, Unbelievable.


Monday is film day. I’ve managed to see The Sum of All Fears and Blade Runner (directors cut, but with serious damage to the film and jumps where frames are missing).

Seeds

Someone had been discreet enough to listen at the door and slid the orders under it rather than intrude. Reed tucked Jay in and padded across to the envelope.

There were two sheets, held together with a folded and crimped metal strip. In effect it was a list of names, a date and destination, but it had been wrapped up in the usual reminders to check all components and pack spare underwear.

Jay woke after a few shakes. She blinked at the sheets, skim reading when the sleep was from her eyes. �That�s away from the action. And why aren�t they sending the whole squadron?�

�I don�t know. Serena, and a few of the other bombardiers and some of the ground crew were transferred out the same way. Before you came along, of course.�

�Of course.�

�I shall tell them at the briefing. Until then�?�

�Until then, I am going back to my room.�

Surround sound- Shine 7, Doves- Lost Souls.




May’s picture gallery is now up.

Thinking about my postscript yesterday, I guess Seeds is a techno thriller of sorts. I’m just taking the easy way out and inventing my own technology-

There had been the mission debriefing, where they had tried to recall everything they had seen. Now they were getting the political debrief, where they were told what had happened.

The Ideological Officer had taken quite well to the plains life, filling out and taking colour. But his adherence to the rules was as tight as ever. �What you saw were Northern rockets, designed to land bombs on Reff and destroy our fuel refining capabilities. They stole the technology from us, of course.�

�Of course. Because our rocketry is so advanced.� Karn wasn�t the best at sarcasm. He cast a glance out of the window as he said the words.

�They do not have the resources to do it again. And we shall be exacting revenge for this, as well as a number of other raids I have been informed of. I am confident that this squadron shall be participating.� He was considering each word, plodding them out carefully within doctrine.

Karn perked up. �So we finally get a proper mission?�

�That depends upon you, to an extent.� The officer pulled a large folder from the desk drawer. �These are all legitimate targets. Draw up mission briefs and get back to me.�

Muzik- Propellerheads- Decksanddrumsandrockandroll, Dandy Warhols- Come Down.




A dash of Seeds

Mov had taken his team farthest forward. Both guards on the ground were moving away from his team. When the autogunner in the near tower dropped from view, he signalled and his team set off in a crouching run for the bridge. Lensman followed a couple of counts later.

The first squad went right, pausing under the guard tower to strap charges to two wooden legs and throw incendiaries onto the platform. Then they crossed to the fuel tanks. The gauge read quarter full. They left one man to plant charges then open the taps and flood the assembly area with flaming oil.

With one squad member to either side of the door, Lensman held out his mini auto and turned the handle. The door swung open after a hard push. Lensman ducked down and swept left to right. There was no one in this room, but there were sounds from the one beyond. Lensman was halfway to the next door when it opened. He fired a three shot burst at the level of the handle, then raised his aim and fired again at the head of the silhouette in the door frame. He rushed through the door, firing a long burst at the confused officer behind a desk. �I�m out.� His seconds crashed through to the next room as he changed magazines.

Mov heard the shooting. There was no need, or time, for subtlety any more. He kicked the armoury door open and ducked in. There was no one inside, he made his way to the far door. The support gunners had opened up on the barracks. Out of the armoury, by a corner of the barracks, was a body- a fifth guard taken out by Kess.

There were more shots from the canteen, then Lensman�s squad appeared at the rear door. The support gunners stopped firing, folded up their guns and made their way to the bridge. Charges were thrown through windows on every building, alternating explosive and incendiary, and the guards bodies brought into the barracks. There were pack donkeys in a pen behind the barracks. The few that hadn�t been killed in the strafing were loaded with two bomb lobbers, two stonks and as much ammunition as possible. Kess found a baby long rifle and claimed it for himself. Then shells were primed with timer fuses and packed around with explosive.

The whole encounter had taken less than a thousand counts. They took the hard packed trail to the far side of the valley and were in a vantage point to watch the destruction. First the tower platforms caught fire, before explosions buckled their legs and toppled them. The fuel on the assembly area caught flame as explosions rocked the buildings. Then the armoury went up, a blossom of red and yellow sending debris hundreds of spans into the air and levelling trees in the surrounding forests.

�I think that will be quite convincing.� Rey told Lensman.

Top of the Pops- Mint Royale- On The Ropes, Oasis- the Masterplan, Rolling Stones- Singles, The London Years, Wonderstuff- Cursed with Insincerity.




Seeds

Kess had filled two small canvas bags with fine gravel and settled his rifle on them. The wind had picked up, so he clicked the scope offset up two. Squeezing the front bag shifted the target back into view. The autogunner in the far guard tower could strafe the whole assembly area, and had become the first target. There was another tower by the gate, target two, and two guards walking the perimeter. They were closer and presented easier shots.

Lensman had made position and signalled that Kess was gun free. He centred the scope dot on the autogunner�s head, exhaled slowly and began applying pressure to the trigger. Before the last of his breath had gone, he bought the trigger home. The report seemed so loud up close, but there were trees to deaden the sound, and the river would cover it as well. He brought the scope back into line and counted. On the second count, the autogunner�s head disappeared in a haze and his body slumped away.

Kess had ever seen the effect of any bullet on a human body, let alone one of his monstrous one digit shells. He put the disgust aside, fed another round into the breech and brought the second guard tower into view. He clicked the gravity adjust back up a couple and centred on this guard�s chest. Another breath out and the shot was away. He didn�t wait to see the effects of this round, shifting quickly to the nearer of the guards.

Boss Tunage- Wonderstuff- If The Beatles Had Read Hunter… The Singles, Wonderstuff- Eight Legged Groove Machine (I know I listened to this a few days ago, but I have two copies, this is the remastered one with extra tunes, Kingmaker- Sleepwalking (listed on amazon, but as unavailable. Come on, someone re release this, please. I spent six months of last year visiting record shops from Southampton to Edinburgh, via Croydon, Soho, Manchester and Cardiff trying to find a copy. In the end someone had to copy it for me. Definitely an argument in here somewhere for the music biz to set up their own cheap [pennies per song] online database of out of circulation music. Rant over.)



I’ve been going through my pictures to find ones which might make for good backdrops in DEx. I’ve only found a few hundred.
Seeds

Rey handed the field glasses to Lensman. �Some kind of camp. There are firing ranges, an assault course, and look at all the pitons and ropes on those cliffs. I think they are trying to turn flatlanders into real troops.�
Troops and soft skins milled around the assembly area near the gates, readying a clean up squad for the collapsed tunnel down the road. �They aren�t leaving many guards.� Lensman commented.
�What are you thinking of?�
�They have an artillery range. We don�t have any heavy weapons.�
�You want to steal their guns? That would give us away, you know?�
�Not if we do it properly. There has already been one ir raid. What if we can convince them there was another?�
Rey took back the glasses. The work crew was pulling out, crossing the small river that ran along the near boundary of the camp. He counted the soldiers left behind. �I�ll get Kess up here. He can pick off the guards before we go in. If we put a fire crew there,� he pointed at the bluff above a curve in the river, �they can strafe the barracks while I lead a squad against admin and the canteen and Mov takes the armoury. Then we plant enough charges to suggest bombs.�
�A good plan. But one change. I shall lead your squad, you guide the covering fire.�
�Sir?�
�There is only yourself and Mov who have seen action in this squad. Everyone else, including myself, needs the experience. And where better than against a soft target such as this?�

Platters- The Cooper Temple Clause- See This Through and Leave, Gomez- Bring It On, Pixies- Doolittle, Embrace- The Good Will Out, Jim’s Super Stereoworld- Jim’s Super Stereoworld, The Mull Historical Society- Loss




Busy, busy, busy. I got some writing done today. I’ve designed most of the ‘Good Guys’ for DEx using Poser (I’m going to take those life drawing classes, honest, but for now I’ll cheat). Sorted out my insurance claim, and my benefits.

Wow. Here’s a bit of Seeds

None of them had slept well. They had taken turns at sentry duty, though there was little to guard against.

Bobb was stripped to the waist. He passed the rope through a belt loop on his shorts. �I�ll try to do this on my own power, but if I start tugging pull me back in right away.� He dived over the edge before they could acknowledge.

Away from the shore, the water was clear, with sunlight penetrating deep before beginning to diffuse. Closer in, a soup of algae swallowed the light and restricted the view. Bobb swam into the thick green water. He passed under the shadow of the shore and the temperature dropped.

Groping around, he found something firmly anchored. Tugging on it brought him in close to a thin root, with another just beyond. Pulling himself from root to root, Bobb worked further under the floating island. Up ahead, the roots became thicker, wrapping and twining together in a criss cross pattern. Small fish swam through the gaps, feasting on the algae.

There was a movement, just at the edge of view to the left. Bobb turned his head to see a large dark shape leaping at him. It was as long and thick as his arm with teeth upon teeth and tiny eyes ringing its mouth. The fish ran up against the net of roots, jamming part way through one of the larger gaps. Now it was trapped. It thrashed and thrashed, becoming sluggish as water stopped flowing through its gills. The smaller fish darted in to take nibbles out of the predator. Chunks of flesh floated off to be wrapped in algae.

Bobb kicked away, aware of the pain in his lungs. He broke the surface with the opposite of a cry, the painful sound of great gasps of air. He lay on his back in the water, revelling in the sun, as Gim and Sheel dragged him in.

Under the tree, with the first of the purified water at his lips, Bobb explained what he had seen. �We�re sitting on an ecosystem. The algae has coated itself to the roots of the tree, the dead stuff building up over time to make this, �soil�. The roots drape down below, knitting together to make a net of sorts. The net catches larger fish, smaller fish feed on the corpses, breaking them down for the algae and plankton, and the tree feeds on the nutrients provided by the single celled animals.�

�But can the system support humans?� Sheel wondered.

�I guess we�re going to find out.�

On the wheels of steel- Stereophonics- Performance & Cocktails, Happy Mondays- Pills & Thrills & Bellyaches,The Avalanches- Since I Left You, Nirvana- Incesticide, Snakebite City Vol. 10, Abdoujaparov- Air Odeon Disco Pub, Hefner- Breaking God’s Heart.


The Seeds segment I promised earlier-

The waves didn�t break upon the shore. Indeed, the island seemed to be lifted and propelled along by the rollers. Gim planted his feet as far apart as possible, side on to the tide. �This foot�s rising, only slightly, but� And there, it�s under me�. And now this foot. The whole island moves as the wave goes by.�

�That�s a relief. There�s only a small rise above sea level, I thought we were going to flood at high tide.� Sheel ran a hand through the green slime that passed for soil, studied the substance, then shook it off. �Where�s Bobb?�

�He went to the North shore, thought he�d seen something to build with.�

Bobb returned some time later. The setting sun cast a long shadow. �I thought you said he had gone North?�

�He did.�

�So why�s he coming back from the West?�

�Could have done a part circuit.�

�Or our island�s rotating in the current.�

Bobb set down a sack. �There was a camp of some sort back there. I think I have enough stuff to make a solar still. What have you found out?�

Gim took the sack and emptied it. He started sorting through the contents. �Our island�s not very solidly planted.�

�Did you notice the way it moved with the waves?� Sheel asked.

�Yeah. It�s more pronounced toward the edges.�

�Well, I started scooping away at the surface, think it�s algae of some sort. I found a way through the roots of that,� she pointed at the island�s one and only tree, centrally located, �and got so deep,� halfway up her upper arm, �before breaking through to water.�

Gim had assembled a frame for the solar still from the remnants of a parasol. He had shaped the wires to rest on the edge of a large basin, so the vapour rising from a cup of salt water in the middle could condense and run down purified. �There was some rope in that sack. If one of us ties it around our waist we can go over the edge and explore what is under our island.� He had found a smaller cup and was using this to bring water up from Sheel�s cup and feed the still. �In the morning, I think.�




And some more of Eliza Effect

Parallel_Parking

Owen found Kate registering at The Jury�s Inn, with what looked like the HR heavy squad in tow. Whilst the white men in black suits registered, he circled long enough to catch the same lift as her. �Hey.�

�Hey.�

There was an embarrassed silence as the lift doors closed. They both went for the same floor button. �Which room?� Owen asked.

�Two oh three.�

�Neat. I�m two oh five. Want to, um, get together? I mean we can go out for a meal and stuff and�.�

�I don�t think I can. I promised the boys we�d go out for a meal and find the Gay village.�

�Out the front doors, turn right, up the road, right at the second set of lights then left before the canal.�

�I�ll take them, have a meal and leave them. Meet you here at eight.� She kissed him quickly on the lips before the doors opened.

�Why are we out here, again?�

�Because the head of HR booked in and has the room between ours.�

�So?�

�So. Well, I am a bit vocal, aren�t I?�

�Oh yeah.�

�And stop grinning. I just don�t want to give him anything to gossip about.�

They could hear cars on the motorway, and water in the river. �Dark, isn�t it?�

They kissed, and shuffled around to get good leverage. Kate moved closer. �Ow.�

�Hmm. Here try moving this way�.�

�Ow. No, that�s no better.�

�Just let me move this. Is that better?�

�Yeah.� Kate shuffled over, half way onto his seat. �Are we moving?�

�Nah, can�t be��. Shit!�

The car came to an abrupt halt as Owen pulled on the hand brake. �Ooops.�

�Sorry.�

�Don�t apologise. I�m the one who nearly rolled us into the Mersey.�

Silence for a moment, then Kate eyed up the back seat. �This thing�s a four door isn�t it?�

Playlist- Meatloaf- Midnight At The Lost And Found, Catatonia- Equally Cursed and Blessed, Republica- Republica



A wee bit of Seeds, I’m going to put together a page soon to get everything into order-

The orgy had lasted four full days. It hadn�t been the greatest the citadel had ever seen- only three of the older monks had expired- but the Lang had tried to impregnate all the nubiles from the surrounding villages and the Yin had taken her pick of the men. Now both gurus had all their fleshly desires satisfied, they could be prepared to enter the world.
As the grounds were cleared and the joyously deceased monks laid to rest, the gurus went into isolation. Their bodies were steamed and their loins salved and oiled. Pampered, powdered and in pressed clothes, they reappeared two days later.
They went down to the lake one last time, to look at the island- glowing in the morning sunlight- then walked back along the tree lined pathe to the temple. Trees gave way to mud huts, wattle and daub, stone, half timbered and finally glazed brick. The gate had been dismantled and moved down the valley so a new extension could be marked out. A missionary had returned with news of a material- a powder and water mix which cured hard as sandstone and could be strengthened with ferrous bars.
The dark wood doors, over a span thick, had been re-hung for the occasion. A lazy traveller could walk around the gates, but the Lang and Yin put all their strength into pushing it open. Neither had passed beyond the threshold before, though both knew more about the world than anyone outside the temple. �We should take names.� The Yin suggested.
�Mine shall be from the first person I meet, I think.�
�I think I shall be Dana. After one of the goddesses of the Northern countries, as that is where I am headed.�
�I am heading down the river. From what I hear, there are many down there I could help.�
They stood for a while, staring up at the mountains and down at the river. In all probability they would never meet again. They touched fingers.
�Farewell Dana.�
�Farewell.�

Zounds- Guns N Roses- Appetite For Destruction, The Beat- Beat This! Best of the Beat, One Lady Owner- There’s Only We, Senseless Things- Empire Of The Senseless, Super Furry Animals- Guerilla, Madness- The Business.



And a little bit of The Eliza Effect. I’ve had to reconstruct some bits, including this one, from memory after the computer fry up. I think it’s all here-

Focus
�Oh shit.�
�What�s wrong?�
Paul pointed at the Visitor parking area. Every one a Ford Focus. �Middle management.�
�Middle management. Shit.�
�How many middle managers does it take to screw in a light bulb?� Mike asked.
�Middle management will screw in anything.� Paul answered. �What are they all doing here?�
Another car, another Focus pulled through the gates and sailed into the last Visitor spot.
�We could just walk away.� Mike suggested.
�No we couldn�t.� Owen was staring at the redhead who had been driving the latest Focus. Mike and Paul exchanged shrugs.
�Fine. Lead on MacDuff.�

Today, I are bin mostly listening to- Deus- Worst Case Scenario, Carter The Unstoppable Sex Machine- I Blame The Givernment, Punk- Worst of Total Anarchy, Meat Loaf- Dead Ringer, ZZ Top- Eliminator


I’ve been bringing the compiled copy of Eliza Effect up to date and by popular demand (well, Jenny asked, and she’s been visiting longer than anyone else) I’ll be posting some more snippets soon. In the mean time, more Seeds

Nil Garran was paying tithe to the hidden army. It was his way of resisting, and it was easier and safer than taking up a weapon. It was resistance by omission He went about his business as usual, letting the occupying armies take his products at their starvation level prices and demand the occasional tribute.
They didn�t know just how fertile the land was, so could not tell that the fields never yielded all the soil fruit they should. Some of the trees in the wild orchard were half bare before harvest began. The land fowl were free to roam, so he could not know how many nested where he did not look, and the water fowl were not his to worry about.
Somewhere in the forests the soldiers had their hidden communities. They guarded the tracks, guns, bomb lobbers and stonks that the Southerners could not account for despite the supposed rout of the Northern armies. They all waited, biding their time, ready to rise up when the time was right. Just like the god king sleeping in his silver tower in the far North. But Gorran didn�t believe in the god king. The god king didn�t steal his tubers.

Today’s muzack- The Buzzcocks- Sigles Going Steady, Death In Vegas- The Contino Sessions. I have an excuse, I went out to see Nine Queens. It’s every bit as good as the reviews promised. Exactly who is conning who isn’t revealed until the last minute or so. It’s not as if you won’t have guessed who the biggest con is, because you’ll have been suspicious of everyone at some point in the film. The only drawback, and I’m not making an excuse for the inevitable Hollywood re-make, was that reading the captions drew my attention away from watching the action and acting.


And a little bit of Seeds

At high sun, the light played off the glacier, sparkling on the melting ice. The old road bridge, closed now to all but official traffic, was the only vantage point Boran could find to watch his engineers as they marked fire points and laid remote mines. His office on the southern side of the fjord afforded a nice view of the rail marshalling yards and on the northern side the mass of the city was further to the west.

The twin cities of Cora and Munss, possessing the only bridges on the great fjord which split the continent west of the mountains, had been the first prize of the great thrust northwards. Common wisdom held that if the North were to attempt liberation, troops would stream down the glacier in tracks and powered sleds. They had come that way before, aiding the cities� battle for independence from the South.

Boran had been too young to remember the Glacier war. He did recall the smiling uncle who would take him up on the ice and keep him safe whilst he scoured the surface for wreckage. One time, when they had dared travel further than usual, they had come upon the truncated fuselage of a heavy bomber. The aeroplane had buried itself on impact, but the flow had finally thrust it back into the open. In the half enclosed cockpit the crew were crumpled over the controls. Uncle Hian had made the sign of the Silver Tower and flagged the wreck for recovery. Not long after, Boran�s favourite uncle and mother had died in the same house fire. Within days his father had everything in order and they had moved to the family home in the South.

And now he was back. The military had sought out the young engineer shortly before the cities were due to be attacked, and drafted him. It would have been a pleasure to be back in his old home, if there weren�t such a risk of being knifed or thrown over the cliffs should he stray out of the militarised areas.

The motor trike started on the third pull on its starter cord. Boran raced a gigantic lumber train, on the next bridge over, to the southern wall of the fjord. He had to get some joy in his head before his daily briefing with Commander Janssen.


Well, I think I have everything from the site copied to my PC, and I found a driver for my scanner. I’m trying to build up all the tools I need from cover disks and freeware, but it can be annoying. How come, when I put the same e-mail info into Outlook Express (which I’d rather not use) and Eudora (by all accounts a top notch piece of kit), OE can get stuff off the server and Eudora can’t?. Whatever I end up using, I’m going to take this opportunity to start a big rebuild of the site.
There hasn’t been any Seeds for almost a week, so-
[As far as this story is concerned, a digit is roughly half an inch and a span is twelve digits, ie six inches.]
The lead plane waggled its wings as it passed over the marker. The team collecting the canvas up waved back.
There were four crates, two of weapons and ammunition, two of food and supplies. The crates were wooden, so the evidence could be burnt later. Everything went into the canvas bags and was carried to the cave that had been their home for the last two nights.
Squad chief Lensman was viewing the wreckage down the valley through field glasses. “That was too large for a patrol. They were garrisonning something.” He handed the glasses to his sub.
“Target opportunity?”
“Let’s head there. It’s on the way.”
There were complaints at the increased loads after the light mountain kit they had carried on the way over. “We should of brought mules.”
“You are half mule Mov.” He was alos the most experienced mountaineer of a group made up almost entirely of mountaineers. As such, he was First Scout and blessed with a lighter load. Lensman pointed to the head of the valley. “We shall go and see where they were heading, eh? Pick a trail with good vantage and cover.”
“Aye. Right y’are.” Mov tightened the straps on his pack and picked a new half digit auto rifle from the pile. He headed down to the tree line, grabbing a shoulder bag of magazines that was tossed to him.
Young Kess, meanwhile, had fallen in love. At eight spans, the one digit long rifle was nearly as tall as its new owner. Lensman watched the squad’s youngest member assemble the monster sniper rifle. The blue banded bullets were anti personnel, capable of one shot kills at extreme ranges, red bands were armour piercing sabots. “How are you with that gun, Kess?”
“I put three hundred rounds through one in training sir. Best in my class.” They were all best in their class. They needed to be. The twenty man squad (all men, the air army’s equality hadn’t yet extended to the infantry) had to appear an army.
The packs were filled. Mov was up ahead on a vantage point, awaiting the squad. Lensman took the lead.


Well, I was typing something really interesting on Thursday afternoon when the Easy internet servers went down. And then yesterday it was pouring down, so I didn’t get into town. Those are my excuses, anyway.
A bit of Seeds for you-
The Watney Slender Wasp was a fine mountain aeroplane, maneouvrable enough to pitch down the valleys and far tougher than its slender silhouette suggested. The trimotor they were escorting, on the other hand, was a fat ugly beast of a bird. Reed kept glancing back to check it was still lumbering up behind them. “Kenan’s gap in thirty counts.” his navigator/ gunner told him. Jay looked nervous, it was her first combat mission.
As they approached the turn she began counting down. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, now.” Reed banked hard right, flattened and throttled up for the climb. “Horse is still with us, Jay reassured him.
They joined the road at the head of the valley. It clung to the cliff face, curving away from them. “Horse here. We are heading for our drop.” the cargo plane announced.
“Affirmative Horse. We’re going to cause some chaos.”
They couldn’t see the target yet, but no doubt the target could hear them. “Guns live, rockets live, bombs ready.” Jay pre-empted the command.
The valley straightened and ahead of them was the target. The convoy had positioned itself perfectly to be attacked. Most of the vehicles were still in a short covered section built to protect the road from the avalanches that swept down the gully above. Outside the tunnel two vehicles jostled for position, an armoured track and a softskin eight wheeler with anti air gun in its bed.
“Two and three with me, four, five, six around and take the rear. Let’s seal this at each end.” The rear three planes peeled off. “You have the plane.” Reed told Jay. He kept his hands close to the controls, ready to take them back, but he had to trust her. The plane nosed up slightly as Jay checked the targettting scope. A few more counts and the anit air gun would come to bear. Were they closing fast enough to cut them off?
“Rockets away.” Jay announced. Three projectiles jumped from the left wing, two from the right. They were little more than fireworks with shaped charges on the end, and sometimes they didn’t work.
The nose dipped and Jay let off a two count burst from the guns. The bullets reached the eight wheeler ahead of the rockets, bouncing off the anti air’s armour and decapitating a loader. Gravity hadd taken hold of the rockets and brought their trajectory down toward the gun. Two shaped chargespunched through the armour and destroyed the mechanism beyond. One lifted the gun off its mount and the final two found an ammunition crate. The explosion split the eight wheeler, sending the rear bouncing down the mountain, and rocked the armoured track.
The plane nosed up, as six smoke trails passed below. They flew over the track into the mouth of the tunnel, which lit up yellow as they found a fuel truck.
“Bombs gone.” Jay announced. The plane jumped up as she pulled back on the controls. There were mirrors mounted in the lower frames of the cockpit’s glazing. As Reed took back control, she checked on the bombs’ trajectories. “Dropping metal eggs” her instructor had called it. She had always preferred “Shitting death from above.” Thankfully there wasn’t a poetry section to the bombardiers exams. Both bombs collapsed the tunnel roof.
At the far end of the tunnel anti air guns had been brought to bear. The convoy was longer than they had thought. Four, five and six had dropped their bombs and were coming back up the valley three abreast to deliver a volley of rockets and bullets.
Reed brought the plane around in time to see a ripple of explosions along the road. Both anti airs, a number of soft skins and another fuel tanker took hits. Infantry spilled out of carriers to find cover. Not a vehicle was undamaged. One eight wheeler had driven over the edge in the confusion and was sliding sideways down the cliff wall.
“Horse here. Drop done.” came the message over the radio. That had been the primary mission, the chance to carry out this hit and run was just an added benefit.
“Okay. Flight, form on me and let’s go home.”