The first new project I want to work on comes from a Ronald Reagan quote that I modified a bit.
Cannot swords be turned to plowshares? Can we and all nations not live in peace? In our obsession with antagonisms of the moment, we often forget how much unites all the members of humanity. Yesterday we discovered a universal threat that made us recognize this common bond. I believe our differences worldwide will vanish as we begin facing an alien threat from outside this world. And yet, I ask you, is the alien force already among us? How long have they been here? What could be more alien to the universal aspirations of our peoples than war with these invaders?
I'm not exactly sure where to go with this but when I found the original quote it only needed a couple of minor tweaks to make it talk about aliens!
I think I'll write a story set in 2011 with 1987 as the year the aliens landed. What happened in the 25 years since they invaded? I don't know either but I want to find out!I've felt so discouraged with my first "real" novel <em>Alone: King of One</em> that I wanted to just scrap the whole thing. I told some friends of mine about this and they immediately discouraged me from dumping the world I'd created.
They tried to convince me to not quit the project. Well I am sorry to say <em>Alone: King of One </em> is officially done. I am no longer working on it, nor am I going to submit it to ANYONE in the publishing biz.
I know you're all probably saying...
Wait what?
Well Alone: King of One may be dead because it has too many problems BUT... I've started working on Alone: Psi-Mage (Working Title) In fact I KNOW that's probably not going to be the title.
Basically I'm going to rewrite the GOOD portions of Alone: King of One from Sarah's pov but also in 3rd person. That way I'll be able to jump around a bit and give you the perspective of the Masters and Furball. ;D
I am going to work differently on this one though. I will NOT be posting it here or on one of my blogs.
WHAT?
I know, I know you guys are probably already trying to look me up, find my home address and lynch me with torches and pitchforks. Before you go sharpening those tines let me ease your troubled hearts.
I NEED you guys, and gals. I seriously do. I don't know how many factual errors you've all caught but it has been a lot. So... I will be emailing the raw word docs out to any of you who would like to be alpha readers. When I finish a chapter I'll spam you. The only thing that I request from all you Alphas is that you reply to every chapter with at least ONE suggestion, comment, or fix.
If you would like to be an Alpha Reader for Alone: Psi-Mage please shoot me an email with the subject line of ALPHA, ALONE: PSI MAGE - (Your Screen Name or real name)
Why am I doing this? Well there can be issues with posting an entire book online where the way back machine can find it. I'm not doing this because I think I'm AWESOME... far from it. I'm just taking the advice of several people who actually make money with this writing thing.
Anyway so shoot me an email and I'll put you in the sooper sekrit mailing list. The decoder ring will be mailed shortly. ;D
mkmayner (at) gmail (dot) com
Anyway here's the first chapter to give you guys a taste.
**************************
Alone: Psi-Mage
Sarah heard the high pitched whine of the alien shield generator as the Blackhawk was struck by coil gun rounds. Electric blue sparks intercepted the heavy slugs keeping them from being shot to pieces. Looking down she watched as her furry little companions leathery little paws clutched her webbing tight as they sat helpless watching the pilots struggle to keep the helicopter in the air.
The Masters would be launching their heavy skiff in moments and they would end up decorating the mountainside she just knew it.
“Bright Child, focus.” He spoke directly to her mind, as another burst from the Masters Drop ship struck the chopper.
She tried to focus like he said but couldn’t help but stare at the rapidly dwindling shield power gauge as it was struck by the anti-aircraft fire.
The miniguns on either side of the craft opened up as Marty and Sam sprayed the ground, she knew they were hitting the reptilian aliens as she felt their spirits leave their bodies and enter the realm of endless dreams. She tried to not think about the killing even though she herself had shot her fair share of the aliens.
The matriarch appeared from a hatch on the side of the silver egg like ship and scrambled to the top.
“Sarah! Toss down the rope!” Amaya yelled through the intercom from the co-pilots position.
“Yes ma’am!” She replied and shoved the heavy coil of rope out the side of the Blackhawk.
Surprisingly spry for her old age the gray haired little alien cat monkey scrambled up the rope. As soon as she was safely inside Sarah yelled, “Go, go, go!”
They were going to make it; they were actually going to get back to the dam in one piece! Sarah couldn’t believe it. She smiled at the old Furball and looked out the open door at the Masters crippled ship as it receded into the distance.
She breathed a sigh of relief and held on to the two friendly little aliens as they retreated. Soon enough they’d be back home and the Masters would be deprived of their secret weapon.
Her elation turned to the bitter taste of fear as smoke began filling the cabin and the pilots yelled to dump anything not bolted down. The miniguns were tossed into the Canadian forest below, as well as any remaining ammo. Sarah pulled the pin holding the dangling fast rope and watched as Ka-no-ma, the green skinned alien woman cut the straps keeping the shield generator fastened down.
Her stomach lurched as the Blackhawk rolled and the heavy alien and human equipment fell crashing into the pines below.
The engines quit and the helicopter became uncomfortably quit.
“Auto rotating!” The pilot yelled as he fought with the dying aircraft.
The young woman began praying as the ground rushed up to meet them.
*
Nine Months Earlier
Event Day
“Are you sure about this Grandpa?” Sarah asked as she climbed down the ladder into the bunker.
“Of course I’m sure, one can’t be too careful ya know.” The old man said as he lowered down an old Korean War vintage M1 Carbine.
She grabbed the weapon and set it in its place in the rifle rack next to the entrance. “But Grandpa, how many times have you hauled me out of school to come hide down here? Sometimes I wish I was a normal thirteen year old girl.”
The old man handed her a scoped Remington 700, “Normal? Normal? Sarah Jessica Goldman, I almost don’t believe what I’m hearing. How many times have I told you it’s the normal people who are the first to die when the zombies come?”
She set the .30-06 in the rack and sighed, “But Grandpa, while the other girls get to go to Jason Baldwin concerts you’ve got me home cleaning rifles, packing bug out bags, or rotating food storage.”
“Humph, so you think going to a prepubescent girl’s hormone fest is going to feed you when the comet hits is it?” He shook his head as he lowered a box of MRE’s.
Sarah sighed and helped her grandfather finish stocking the shelter without further complaint. About an hour later they were both entombed inside the bomb shelter listening to Right Now News on an AM station.
“NASA scientists at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, known as JPL, are reporting increased cosmic ray activity over the last twenty-four hours, which could result in an increased rate of computer failures. They caution citizens to not be alarmed. That this is most likely an increase due to sunspot activity.”
Grandpa turned off the radio, “So what do you think of that?”
Sarah stared at the wrinkly old Korean War veteran and shrugged, “I dunno, so the sun is doing stuff. Big deal.”
“They’re lying.”
“Why would NASA guys lie to us?”
The old man leaned back in the camping chair and put his feet up on a bucket of rice. “I’m not sure but that statement is chock full of lies.”
“Huh, how do you know?” The blonde haired girl asked as she took off her dirty baseball cap.
The old man chuckled, “Sarah sweetheart, the sun isn’t making any sunspots right now. We’re in a solar minimum. Didn’t I tell you about how that affects our ham radios?”
It took her a few moments before she understood what he was implying. “So wait, you’re saying those NASA eggheads are straight up lying?”
He nodded and took a sip of spiked cola. He didn’t want his granddaughter to know he was drinking again. Despite his attempts at deception she knew there was more than sugar and caffeine in his cup. “Yep. A buddy of mine who’s working at NORAD sent me an email with a code word embedded in it.”
“What kind of code word?”
“It’s a warning.”
“So what’s the code?”
“Teddy bear.”
“Teddy bear?”
“Yep.”
She squinted at him in the twelve volt lighting, “Why would you use a word like that?”
The old man chuckled, “Do you really think we’d ever use it in regular conversation?”
She looked down at the plywood floor, “I guess not. So what does it really mean?”
He wiped a bit of sweat off his brow with a flannel sleeve. His face lost all its common joviality. “I don’t know but it’s the highest threat code of them all. Higher than ‘Fabric Store’ even.”
“But what is it? Some kind of plague, natural disaster or Russian nukes?”
The old man shook his head; the hair on top was becoming mighty thin. “It’s a real game changer.”
“Game changer? I don’t understand. Will I be going back to school when this is all over?”
He pointed to a stack of college level textbooks on science, math, botany, farming, and small engine repair. “No Sarah, I’m afraid this is the end of the world as we know it.”
“You say that every time Grandpa, what makes this any different?”
“Aliens.”
“Aliens? How did you get that from Teddy Bear?”
The old man took another swig. “Yeah I did but he combined ‘teddy bear’ with ‘sick midget.’”
The young woman knew her grandfather was weird, and compared to the stories the other kids at school told of their families he was. But he was really making less sense than usual. “I don’t get it.”
“If someone is sick, don’t we say they look a little green?”
“Yeah, but…”
“And a midget is a little person right?”
It dawned on her, little green men. “Woah hold on gramps, you’re saying the government discovered Aliens?”
He nodded and finished his spiked drink.
“But… but… aliens aren’t real.”
Grandpa Goldman sighed and closed his eyes. “How many billions of stars are in the milky way?”
“I dunno, a couple billion I guess?”
He made an annoying buzzing sound. “Most ‘eggheads’ as you so colorfully call them, estimate our galaxy to have between one hundred and four hundred billion stars.”
“Oh.”
“And how many galaxies are there in the night sky?”
“I don’t know… a lot?”
Grandpa nodded, “A lot, maybe five hundred billion? We don’t know.”
“So if aliens are coming here what do we do about it?”
He shrugged, “All we can do right now is sit back and wait for their opening move.”
“What kind of move do you think they’ll make?”
He grabbed a little chess set off the shelf and dumped all the pieces onto the bucket. “If I were them, I’d go straight for checkmate.”
*
Commander-Lord, Dark Fang surveyed the planet through the probe’s mechanical eyes. He hoped the intel reports were right. The video feeds from the planet seemed to show the tale tale signs they were looking for but the pink sentient species did not appear advanced enough for his needs. Their orbital platform was primitive, powered by a crude array of sun energy collectors it didn’t seem to be the kind of installation created by a race that could wield the atom. Why were they not using cold fusion generators to power their equipment?
Why did they not have any permanent structures on their large dust ball satellite? It seemed the perfect place to stage ships from. When his ship had exited the worm tunnel Fang had the mass drivers loaded and charged, expecting to encounter a vast orbital defense system. What he found was pitiful, the pink skins didn’t seem to notice them until a few moments ago when radio waves began to be focused on the mothership.
“Commander-Lord, the array is charged and in position.” One of his underlings, Rust Scales said from his acceleration couch. “Shall we fire the pulse?”
The Commander-Lord looked down upon the billions of sentient life forms he was about to murder. Hesitating for a moment he stared at the clouds swirling over the vast oceans.
“Lord?”
Fang closed his eyes and smelt the air on the command deck with his forked tongue. The subordinates were nervous. This was their first planet, not so for the scarred Shak’te Lord. He waved a clawed hand toward the planet.
“Execute.”
