Orbital Vector

Website and Blog Are Still Alive!

2011-12-17T14:11:00.002-05:00

...Just on a bit of a hiatus, at least until 2012.

I am very sorry I haven't been updating either like I used to, and in fact there's been a six month gap since I put up any new articles. The reason for that is rather straightforward: I have been very busy.

Orbital Vector, both the blog and the main site, are a one-man operation. And that one man (myself) has found himself in rather stressful financial straits. IN this day and age, that should come as no surprise, as there's a lot of that going around. That has meant doing a lot more work to just keep myself afloat. Since OV is more or less a hobby, making just enough from its ads to pay for its own hosting with little to no profit for its creator, its one of several things I've had to let slide for now just to make ends meet.

Some people have sent in donations through the button on the main site's front page, and for that I'm very grateful. I do plan on easing back into updating the site and blog regularly early next year, when (hopefully) work in other areas ease up for me.

OV is more or less an informational database, so hopefully even without regular updates people are finding it useful and educational, and the blog here fun and throught provoking. Hopefully you'll be seeing more on here soon!

The Habitat Gap

2011-04-29T10:58:00.011-04:00

The big news going around the space community recently is that China recently announced plans to construct and orbit a 60-ton, multiple-module space station by 2020 (pictured above.) You can find more details of it HERE on physorg.com's website. See also the original source HERE from the China Daily website.

I can do nothing but applaud this development. I know according to some people, China is supposed to be the US's big bad rival in the next decade, but any nation or organization that helps to expand on humanity's presence in the daunting frontier of space should be welcomed and encouraged.

The station itself, called 'Tiangong' (translated as 'heavenly palace') for now, will be composed of a main habitat module and two laboratory modules. It will be attended by a dedicated cargo ship and be designed to dock with Chinese space capsules. Though more modest than the ISS, it is definitely a step in the right direction for China's fledgling manned space program.

For the longest time, people pushing for human space exploration beyond Low Earth Orbit have focused almost exclusively on propulsion technologies. I think in some ways that has proven a mistake.

As I've stated a number of times on this blog, the development of long-enduring space habitats is as vital as advanced propulsion if we ever want to create a real human presence off Earth. And the way to do that is to actually live and work for long periods in space to determine which systems and techniques work best. That's what the project that eventually became the ISS was originally all about, but somehow people always end up whining (such as in the PHYSORG.com article's comment section) that the ISS "isn't going anywhere" or "isn't giving a valuable scientific return." It was never supposed to. It was originally supposed to be a testbed for humans living and working in space.

Some people seem to have the idea that all we have to do is strap a huge rocket onto an Apollo capsule and just like that we can zoom off to Mars. But even if NASA's advanced propulsion projects achieve all their goals flawlessly, future astronauts are still going to have to consign themselves to voyages of months or years once past the Earth-Moon system. Cramped, skimpy metal cans like current space capsules simply will not be able to keep human explorers safe and productive for such immense journeys, especially in an environment as hostile as space.

For those impatient to travel into the greater Solar System, one has to come to terms with the fact that improved propulsion technology like VASIMR alone is not enough. You also need space habitats that can keep a human crew healthy and in working shape for the entire voyage, and that's far, far more complex and tricky than most people surmise. In order to develop such habitats, we need the experience that space stations can provide us. Perhaps if more people had understood this and had not tried so hard to roadblock the ISS program in its various incarnations over the years, we might have already had human explorers on the way to other planets.

I have the feeling that future interplanetary spacecraft will end up looking much more like MIR or the ISS than the souped-up space capsules than many dreamers seem to envision. Or perhaps even like China's newly proposed Tiangong station, at a minimum. When you're out in the deeps of interplanetary space, on the longest journey by several orders of magnitude that any human has ever undertaken, what kind of ship would you rather have? A large one with the redundancy of systems and space to handle emergencies, or a cramped one that will tank if any one of several dozen life support systems fail?

NASA's proposed Nautilus-X, basically a mobile ISS, is definitely where things should be leading to by the 2020s. It would be relatively slow compared to some visions of interplanetary flight, but it definitely would be the best bet for getting a human crew alive and healthy to its destination. And the only way we can ever build such a craft successfully is through the data and experience we can collect through operating space stations. The public has to get past the notion that space stations are just hunks of metal orbiting in the sky, and understand that they are in truth our gateways to the heavens.

NASA's Exploration Mothership

2011-02-24T17:36:00.005-05:00

(First a quick apology for lack of updates lately, both here and on the main site. I've been caught up in that whole 'earning a living' thing lately and that's been sapping time away from OV. Hopefully things will calm down soon.)

Its big. Its ugly. Its as graceful as a swan glued to an anvil.

I love it.

Its NASA's proposed Nautilus X ("Non-Atmospheric Universal Transport Intended for Lengthy United States eXploration"), an idea put forth by the NASA Technology Applications Assessment Team at the Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas. You can read more about the details in THIS recent Discovery.com Blog.

Basically, it replicates ISS in over all design using cheaper components, attaches rockets and more up-to-date supplementary systems, and sends it cruising on long-term missions. Proponents say that it could be built for $4 billion dollars and be ready by 2020. Realistically, we know that all initial budget and time estimates are significantly low-balled, so let's say it would really cost 3 times that ($12 billion) and would take as long to build and assemble as the ISS, which means 15-20 years with an earliest launch date of say, 2025.

It would still be more than worth it, in my opinion.

This is EXACTLY the approach to long-range manned exploration we should be focusing on. A larger robust, customizable, reusable habitat that can use reasonable propulsion technologies. This is in contrast to the super-compact vehicles where most of the emphasis is on the engine rather than what keeps the astronauts alive and healthy. The idea behind the latter is that if you can get astronauts to and from their destination sufficiently fast enough, you needn't bother with advanced habitat systems.

But the reality of both the vast distances in space, as well as our own near-future technological limitations (no warp drives or antimatter rockets any time soon. Sadly,) would seem to dictate the former approach. We HAVE to get used to the idea that if you want to go anywhere interesting beyond the Earth-Moon system, you're going to be spending a long time getting there. And that's just for manned exploration. Trying for economic exploitation such as construction or mining will require even more capable long-term mobile habitats.

Astronauts in these situations don't need cramp capsules attached to gigantic rockets, as many deep space proposals have posited, such as those to send astronauts to an asteroid or even to Mars in nothing more than two linked Orion capsules. They need actual ships that they can properly live and work on for months at a time. If you were trying to cross the Atlantic, it wouldn't matter how big a motor you attached to a canoe, because in the end it would still be a canoe, and poorly designed to handle the rigors of transoceanic travel. But if you had a big enough ship, travelling slower wouldn't be that big a deal, and you would be much better prepared to handle unforeseen circumstances.

This analogy I think very much applies to space travel, and why an idea like the Nautilus X is a big step forward. If we want to go back to the Moon, to an asteroid, even beyond to Mars or Venus, having an actual reusable ship that can do all that in succession makes more sense than building a new ship for each task. Plus the Nautilus is designed to be modular, and can be modified and updated through it operational lifetime.

But whether anyone at NASA will take the Nautilus-X seriously and moved forward with it is another matter. The space community is nothing if not traditionalist and slow to change, not only in their methods but in their modes of thinking about space exploration in general. Let's hope that won't be the case this time.

NASA's Solar Sail Makes Saving Throw, Orbits Earth

2011-01-24T21:17:00.005-05:00

NASA had some amazingly good luck recently as its NanoSail-D spacecraft spontaneously came unstuck from its mother satellite and unfurled its solar sail. It has since been orbiting Earth. For the full story, go HERE to read the full article on NASA's science page.

Earlier in January, a defective spring aboard the FASTSAT mothership had prevented the NanoSail-D from separating from it. For reasons still unknown, however, it spontaneously launched itself free on January 17th. On January 20th, the spacecraft unfurled its solar sail, only the second such to be deployed in space after Japan's IKAROS probe last year, and the mission is now proceeding as scientists had hoped.

NASA has often caught a lot of bad luck in the past on too many missions, so its nice to see them catch some good luck for a change, especially in testing a technology that could be very vital to a number of future space efforts.

(Plus for those who didn't spend (mis-spend?) many hours of their youth playing tabletop RPGs, a 'saving throw' refers to a D&D trope where a character has to avoid a bad outcome by a literal roll of the dice.)

The Exoplanet Atlas

2011-01-08T14:05:00.004-05:00

Wired recently put out THIS great graphic that illustrates in a layman-friendly way a lot of facts about the most interesting known exoplanets. Relatively sizes, distances, and temperatures, plus a quick primer on how exoplanets are discovered.

Exoplanets is one of the most exciting fields of astronomical study, and the one that may have the most long-range benefits. In terms of not only possibly finding other Earth-like worlds and alien life, but in more fully understanding the genesis and development of our own solar system. Plus of course there's the possibility, many centuries from now, our descendants may be visiting or perhaps even living on or around these far-off planets.

Anyway, check out the graphic!

SpaceX's Big Step

2010-12-09T17:16:00.008-05:00

The Space Exploration Technologies Corporation, much more widely known by its abbreviated moniker SpaceX, reached a major milestone on December 8th: it launched, orbited, and recovered its unmanned Dragon capsule in its first full test flight. More details can be found in THIS linked article at the DISCOVERY magazine website.

This is significant as its the first private company to achieve this feat--successfully recovering an orbital spacecraft. This paves the way for it to make unmanned cargo runs to the Space Station and for the Dragon design to maybe eventually carry astronauts to Earth orbit as well. Here's hoping for their continued success in the future!

I For One Welcome Our New Arsenic-Loving Microbial Overlords

2010-12-02T18:51:00.003-05:00

The big news going around scientific circles is the GFAJ-1 strain of bacteria discovered at Mono Lake in California. It was artificially manipulated into accepting arsenic as a substitute for phosphorus. A much more detailed write-up on the development can be found IN THIS DISCOVERY MAGAZINE BLOG.

While the discovery is not as world-shaking as some sources have hyped it, it is still huge. This strain of bacteria is doing something no other lifeform has ever been seen doing: using am element besides phosphorus for its driving energy. It hints at just how life can evolve and adapt to extreme conditions beyond anything we previously thought possible. As many others have pointed out, this indicates that extraterrestrial life, if ever found, could take radically different forms than we've previously assumed (outside of science fiction, of course.)

Anyway, I'll be following developments of this story with interest; its easily the biggest discovery at the frontiers of biology since the extremophiles found at volcanic vents at the ocean floor.

Proposal: Convert Abandoned Deep Water Oil Platforms Into OTEC Energy Islands

2010-11-14T17:39:00.006-05:00

I know I'm hardly the first to propose this; studies for it go back to at least the early 1990s. However, in the wake of the BP oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico and deep water drilling technology still fresh in the public's mind, this may be the most receptive environment for this idea in many years, even with the current economic turmoil.

OTEC stands for Ocean Thermal Energy Conversion. More information on the technology can be found HERE. Basically, it uses large differences in temperatures between surface water and the sea depths to drive a working fluid such as ammonia to turn electric turbines. A full-scale OTEC plant is estimated to be able to produce up to 250 megawatts under optimal conditions, about a quarter of the average fossil-fuel power plant. The technology is still officially in development, but seems poised to becoming a fully viable power generation resource in the near future.

When an oil drilling platform runs dry, its usually a fairly costly procedure to decommission and dismantle the platform itself. This is especially true of deep water rigs, and usually just the structures near the surface are removed.

One the biggest cost headaches in producing practical OTEC plants is the building and establishment of deep water platforms. Ideally these are envisioned as expansive, consolidated 'energy islands' that would combine OTEC with other types of power production, such as solar, wind, tidal, and wave generators. However, OTEC is always envisioned as the heavy lifter, producing three times as much as those other types of generators combined. So having an energy island with just an OTEC generator would still be potentially profitable. The only real limiting factor (for the US, at least) is that OTEC generators must be located in waters that are relatively warm year round, which for the US would mean the Gulf of Mexico and the waters off of Florida and Hawaii.

The proposal is straightforward: as deep water rigs have their wells run dry and are decommissioned, instead of spending money to have it dismantled, they can be sold or leased to alternative energy interests for conversion into OTEC facilities. This would mitigate one of the biggest upfront costs of an OTEC plant--creating the deep-ocean platform necessary for the technology to work. Major investment would still be necessary, especially laying the long power cables needed to transfer the current to shore along the seabed. However, once set up, the OTEC facility could produce power indefinitely, long beyond the handful of years the drilling platform would produce crude oil.

OTEC technology has proven itself experimentally and could be fully commercially developed in the near term with enough investment. But the biggest roadblock to this idea may be political rather than technical or economic. The large oil and energy companies that build the drilling platforms have traditionally been hostile to alternate energy technologies and may not want to give a promising new source of power for fear of the competition, even if they may mean additional revenue in place of a tapped out well.

I always thought this was a foolish and short-sighted position. The transition to renewable, alternative forms of energy is already underway, and while fossil fuels will be part of the energy landscape for many decades yet, their dominance will slowly fade. Rather than trying to block alternatives and only delaying the inevitable, the big energy companies should start wholly investing them, and get ahead of the curve. This way, they will not only be helping society through a very necessary and beneficial transition, they will ensure their own long-term solvency by adapting themselves to the changing technological landscape.

Moonfur

2010-09-17T20:40:00.002-04:00

This fantasy short story was originally published online in the e-zine Afterburn in 2008 and in print in the short story anthology Other Worlds, Other Skins in 2009. A much earlier draft was also online on a few forums many years ago.

I do writing commissions, fiction, articles, ghost writing, and more. This tale is a good example of the type of fiction work I do. If interested, just contact me at plucas1@hotmail.com.

- - -

Moonfur
by Paul Lucas

The tales we tell are the very coin of life. For what lives on for us in this world except our stories?

A half-dozen horses galloped noisily to a stop outside my Randy Dryad Inn just as I was chasing out the last of my regulars for the night. A heartbeat later six burly soldiers shoved a rag-clad prisoner ahead of them through the door.

The filthy, near-naked man crashed to the floorboards, hands and feet bound fast by heavy chains. Even through his heavy brows and shaggy hair, I could see raw hatred gleam in his eyes. He spat at the soldiers and was rewarded with a vicious backhand across the jaw.

My Orc bouncer, Bloodgouge, rose from his stool beside the door. I calmed him with an emphatic scowl. The soldiers wore the badges of Baron Vahl's troops. The last thing my poor, suffering business needed was to annoy the local landholder.

Bloodgouge returned to his stool, crossing his tree-trunk arms and licking his two-inch tusks. The soldiers kept a wary eye on him as they dragged their prisoner with them toward the bar.

"Wench!" the leader, a spectacularly hairy bear of a man, shouted at me. "Fetch the proprietor! Me and my men wish to celebrate our good fortune!"

"I'm the owner of this Inn," I said. "And my name is Shakara, not 'wench.'"

"A woman, the innkeeper?"

I canted my chin toward Bloodgouge, who was now very conspicuously polishing his fifty-pound war-axe with a greasy rag. "If you have any complaints, take them up with my legal advocate there. But I assure you--sergeant, is it?--that my ale is as frothy and my beds as soft as in any inn owned by a man."

The sergeant laughed. "Ha! Well said, wen...My Lady Innkeeper. Please fetch a round of drinks for me and my men here." He threw three silver crowns on the bar, a generous sum for a party twice his size. "We'll need rooms and stables space for our horses, too."

I snatched up the coins and began pouring drinks. I sent Tully, a young cousin of mine, to tend their horses and make sure their rooms were in proper order.

The soldiers commandeered a large table in the middle of the room, reserving the chair farthest from the door for their prisoner. "I still think we should have left the Wild Man outside," the youngest of them said.

"And who is going to stay out all night and guard him?" the sergeant rumbled. "You, Scrum? I didn't think so."

So," I said to the sergeant as I set his drink down. "What's the occasion?"

He swung his mug in the prisoner's direction. "He is, My Lady Innkeeper. The Baron is offering a bounty of ten gold crowns for him. Ten! He'll keep us in hay and ale until spring!" The others sounded a ragged cheer.

"Who is he?"

The sergeant laughed. "Why, the Wild Man of Barracca Woods. You've heard of him?"

"The Wild Man?"

"The very one, my lady. He's been at large for many years, destroying traps, attacking hunters. Why, some say he even runs with the wolves of the forest, and they accept him as one of their own."

One of the soldiers piped in. "Aye, I've heard he ruts with them, too! Humps their tails like a great big dog himself!"

The others laughed. The prisoner's eyes burned with cold murder.

"I wonder what drove him to such crimes," I said.

The prisoner's rasping baritone cut off the sergeant's reply. "My only crime, barkeep, was loving someone I should not have."

The soldier nearest him raised a fist to strike him, but I spoke out. "No, please, wait." I regarded the prisoner. "Do you have a story to tell, Wild Man?"

He looked me over for many long moments, then nodded hesitantly. "Perhaps."

"I would like to hear it."

The sergeant rumbled. "I am not sure..."

"Please, sergeant," I said. "I collect stories. Whenever I hear an interesting tale I write it down in a book I have. Once a month or so I'll pull it out and read stories from it to the crowd that gathers here. It is my biggest draw. If you let me listen to the Wild Man's story, the next round will be on the house."

The sergeant rubbed his broad expanse of beard. "Well, all right. He'll probably be summarily beheaded when we reach the Baron's castle, so I guess we best listen while we can."

I poured a new round of drinks, plus an extra mug for the prisoner. "To keep your lips moist enough to tell the story well," I said before any of the soldiers could protest.

The Wild Man nodded in thanks and downed several gulps before beginning. "Many years ago I was a very stupid young man named Muruk," he rasped. "I was a huntsman and a tanner and my new wife had just given birth to our first child. My tale begins during a mid-winter hunt..."

- - -

I waded through shin-deep snow, gripping my bow in numbed hands. My every breath exploded in icy mists as I spat vehement curses at the wolf I was hunting. Where was it getting the energy to continue on mile after mile?

Doggedly I shuffled after the tracks left in the newly fallen snow. The trail took on a puzzling aspect. The prints would distort and elongate into almost human proportions, as if the creature somehow grew larger for short stretches. I thought it caused by the shifting snow. I should have known instantly what it was, but I was too tired and desperate to think clearly.

My family sorely needed the three-copper bounty a wolf's tale would bring. My wife, Lika, discovered to our greatest sorrow that she could not produce enough milk for our newborn daughter, Melina. What should have been a steady stream from Lika's bosom was at most a shallow trickle. The midwives and the town healer were at a loss to explain or cure it.

Our daughter cried constantly, day and night. We tried many substitutes for milk, but Melina could keep none of them down. Finally, we were forced to drain our measly savings into buying milk from our neighbor and his goats, but as winter approached our coppers dwindled to almost nothing and the goatherd, an odious man with a frosty ember for a heart, charged us ever-increasing prices. Lika yelled at me constantly to do something. I was forced to spend the dead of winter hunting for game already scarce, hoping to earn enough from furs and wolf bounties to see my daughter through the winter.

That was before this wolf had killed one of the goats upon which my daughter so depended. Lika sobbed wildly, and the goatherd raised his price even higher. I set off after the creature as soon as it was light, hoping to claim it's tail and give my daughter a few more days of life.

Finally, the trail led to a burrow under a hollow log in a small copse of trees. The beast must have been incredibly desperate to travel so far for food. None of the tracks leading out of the den looked fresh, so I knew I had at last cornered the beast. But the footprints leading to the opening were once again distorted, and I would have sworn a creature walking on two legs made them.

I laid down the bow and pulled out my hunting knife. Slowly, cautiously, with my weapon before me, I squatted down and shuffled into the opening in the massive, half-buried log, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom within.

The occupant must have scented my approach, for when I spotted her she was desperately clawing on the opposite wall of the small space, trying to dig a new exit. In one arm she crooked something small and shadowy to her chest. As she turned and looked at me, I at last realized why her tracks were so strange.

She was not a wolf at all, but a Wolfling, a Faerie creature. Legends said that her race was created long ago by the Father Trees, those immortal guardians of all living things, as a mixture of elven and wolf blood. Their kind could transform between the form of a true wolf and wolf-like human. It was the latter she wore. She was slighter than me and would barely touch my shoulder if she stood erect. Her wide face was reminiscent of a young wolf, with curt jowls and high-arcing, triangular ears. But she also had very human features; a short, almost nose-like snout and large, very expressive eyes, the color of a clear daytime sky. Her body was definitely human in form, with hands and legs and most other parts in the expected places, except covered with a coat of unbroken gray fur. A small tuft of a tail peeked out from her backside.

Her arms bore a much tinier version of herself, a cub, not much bigger than my fist. It mewled softly.

The Wolfling clung tightly to her child as she abandoned her hopeless digging and curled up against the far wall, terror in her eyes. She knew she had no chance against a much larger opponent such as myself in such a small space. She shielded the youngling with her body, expecting death at any moment.

I crouched, knife in hand, suddenly tormented as to what to do. Wolfling fur could be sold to a wizard for far more than a mere three copper bounty, and much of the folklore described them as little better than vicious beasts. Humans and Wolflings steadfastly avoided each other in the woods whenever possible, attacking each other when not. Plunging the knife into her was only expected, even by her, it seemed.

But the Wolfling's expressions seemed so human, and her heart-tugging efforts to protect her cub only added to my hesitation. I felt like a murderer.
But Melina was dying...

I noticed she was gaunt and half-starved. The winter had proven particularly harsh, and game was almost nowhere to be found. She had not gotten much of the goat's meat before the animal's owner had chased her off. But there was one part of her that did not lack for fat.

At any other time of my life, I would have looked at her and saw only what any man would see when assessing such things. But at that moment, my mind leapt at only one thought.

A new mother, her breasts were full to feed her pup.

My eyes grew wide. Full enough, perhaps, for two children.

"Can, um, can you understand me?" I asked.

She glared at me with cold suspicion.

"This is going to sound very odd, but I need your help. Really. I could hurt you..."

She hugged her cub closer.

"But I won't!" I added hastily. Seasons, I was no good with words. How could I convince her? "I swear, I won't hurt you. I'll spare you and your child, even give you food, more food than you could ever get hunting by yourself. I can give you better shelter than this, too, a place where you can always be warm. But I need you to do something for me in return." I began fumbling with my belt.

Her eyes widened in horror.

I winced. Stupid, stupid, stupid! "No! Nothing like that! I promise!" I conspicuously put away my knife and pulled out the supply of dried meat I had store away in my belt pouch. I tossed the small bundle to her.

She uncoiled slightly as the food landed beside her. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the food and myself several times before she snatched the dried meat up and gobbled it down. She licked her fingers greedily, not wanting to miss a single morsel. The few bites from the goat must have been her only food in days. Finally, the Wolfling spoke for the first time. Her voice was surprisingly deep for one so small, with a slight rasp. "What hunter want?"

"I need you to come to my home with me. No, please, listen. I have a baby also, not much older than yours. But there is no milk for her, and she is growing very sick. You, um, you could feed her."

She sneered. "A cub? You lie, try to trick me?"

"Her name is Melina. She's so tiny and so beautiful." I blinked back stinging moisture as my own words struck me. "She'll die unless we can figure out some way to feed her. No tricks. I swear on my daughter's life you won't be harmed.
Please, please, help my little girl."

The Wolfling stared hard at me and I found myself transfixed by the vast depths of her eyes. Something very ancient, yet very innocent, flickered there. Something that spoke of a feral world of immense antiquity that humankind had long forgotten. A world the Wolfling and her people were still an integral part of, even as that world and its magic were a part of them.

To this day I'm not sure what spurred her decision. I would like to think it was as simple as the promise of food and warmth, but in truth I think in the moment our eyes locked she looked into the depths of my soul and for some reason approved of whatever was squatting in the darkness there.

She gave her own child a long and loving look before replying. "Yes. I will feed hunter cub. But you trick me, I run away."

"Fair enough." I backed out of the den. The Wolfling hesitantly followed, blinking into the afternoon glare. She never looked at me directly, but I knew she paid wary attention to every move I made. When I started the long hike back to the village, she shuffled along quietly after me.

We spoke only once during the trek. "My name's Muruk," I offered.

She did not even lift her eyes. "My pack, before they drove me away, called me She Who Has Soft Fur the Color of the Rising Moon."

"Er, that's quite a mouthful. How about if I just call you Moonfur?"

She shrugged. We were quiet the rest of the way.

Lika hated Moonfur.

She yelled and screamed for hours after the Wolfling first entered our home, hissing vehemently when I fed Moonfur our freshest meat. When I told her why I had brought the Wolfling to our cottage, she threw anything she could lift at me and swore to slit my throat if I dared let our only child suckle from a Faerie thing like Moonfur.

I yelled, too, until my throat grew hoarse. Moonfur was Melina's only chance! Couldn't Lika even try to see that?

During a momentary lull in our private war, our voices too raspy to go on, Melina cried from her crib. It was only a tiny wheezing sound, yet as terrible to a parent as any scream of agony. Looking at our pale and sickly child, Lika's mouth contorted at the horrible realization that we really did need Moonfur if our daughter was to live. My wife threw herself on the bed, burying herself in its folds and sobbing tortuously-but quietly-after that. It was the closest to acquiescence I could hope for.

I lifted Melina from her crib and brought her to Moonfur. The Wolfling had warily watched my wife and I fight even as she wolfed down as much deer meat as her stomach could hold. She was never threatened directly, however, so she had resisted the temptation to bolt. With a slightly distended belly she nursed her own child as I handed Melina down to where she was sitting in a corner.
She took my little daughter in the crook of her arm. Melina had not more than a thimble-full of food in the past few days, and I prayed she was still strong enough to suckle.

"Hunter not lie," was all Moonfur said as she brought the tiny lips to her nipple. When Melina began to suckle, I laughed out loud with joy. Moonfur smiled broadly, falling instantly in love with my daughter's face. A midwife once told me that a mother to one child is a mother to all children. Apparently that applied even to Wolflings.

I turned to Lika to share my joy, only to see my wife glowering pure hatred at Moonfur.

The first few days were the hardest as the weather turned vicious. We were all cooped up together in the cottage.

Most of the time Lika ignored Moonfur as if the Wolfling were an oversized dustball that refused to be swept up. She went about her chores with an intense single-mindedness, sweeping and mending and scrubbing like a general assaulting an invading army of filth. She held Melina as much as she could, and would occasionally try to nurse our daughter herself, only to realize whatever kept her from fulfilling her maternal duty was still in force. She would bury her head in the sheets for hours afterward, trying to drown out the sounds of Moonfur's nursing.

Moonfur, for her part, kept quiet and out of the way, adopting the corner farthest from our bed as 'her' corner. Lika did not protest when Moonfur gathered some old cloth and spare hay to make a crude nest for herself. She quietly ate the food given her and always, always, kept a wary eye on Lika when my wife wasn't asleep or crying in the bedsheets.

Moonfur's own child stayed with her at all times. The tiny Wolfling had all the cutest features of puppies and human babies combined, and I absently began calling him Little Fur. Moonfur seemed pleased at that.

As Lika chose to ignore Moonfur, I became the target of all my wife's ire. She yelled at me and complained constantly for every wrong I had ever done to her, real or imagined. She refused to perform her more intimate duties as a wife, even in the dark with Moonfur fast asleep. She would just roll over and cocoon the coverings around her, an armor against my advances.

Weeks passed and the weather cleared steadily. Game started becoming easier to find, so we did not lack for food, even with three adults to feed. But another problem became apparent, one Lika constantly wheedled me about. Melina would need nursing for months to come, but we couldn't keep Moonfur hidden from the other villagers if we tried. The town was too small, and the goodwives too nosy and gossipy for their own good. Even though we lived at the very edge of the village, more than a hundred paces off into the forest, we were still too close for people to not at least suspect another person living in our household.
Oddly, It was the ever-quiet Moonfur who provided the answer. After listening to Lika and I argue for the third time that day, Moonfur spoke more than a few words for the first time in weeks. "I know answer," she said. "Hunters raise wolf-dogs, yes? Wolf-dogs and hunters make one pack, yes?"

Like shook her head. "What kind of nonsense-"

"Wait," I said. "You mean dogs? Do we keep dogs as pets, is that what you're asking?"

"Pets?" Moonfur rolled the strange word around on her tongue.

I explained and she nodded vigorously. "I be 'pet' wolf-dog for you. Watch."

She fell forward onto the floor. Between heartbeats as she fell, her form changed from a wolf-like human to a true wolf. It was like seeing ice melt over a fire, with the substance of her body splashing into a form of a large wolf. She looked up at us, tail wagging and tongue panting out of her mouth in satisfaction.

Lika gasped in shock and drew warding symbols in the air. It was the first time we had seen Moonfur transform in front of us.

I smacked myself for not thinking of the solution myself. I could claim that I had found an abandoned cub on one of my winter hunts, and had raised it myself. Now, if we used extra food or supplies, the others would just assume it was for our new "pet" wolf. If they heard someone inside our cottage while we were away or heard us talking to someone who was not supposed to be there, they would assume it was our new family dog.

Even Lika saw the logic in it. Reluctantly.

A few days later, after carefully coaching Moonfur, I went out into the village with Moonfur in wolf-form, making a big show of purchasing some extra hay for my new "dog's" sleeping nest. Of course everyone who was out on that mild spring day came over to see her. Moonfur was nervous with so many humans around, especially by the ones who reached out to pet her, so she hovered close to me. Some of the other hunters grunted in jealousy, commenting on how intelligent and handsome she looked. One even tried to buy her outright from me.

As soon as Moonfur (I unconsciously kept calling her that; no one thought twice of it) realized the humans weren't going to hurt her, she relaxed and began to enjoy their affectionate pats and scratches. Within an hour she was playing "keep-away" with a group of village children, who squealed with delight whenever she outsmarted them and got the ball, which was often.

I smiled as I watched Moonfur play and bark in delight. It was a side of her I hadn't seen before.

Several of the goodwives stopped and told me of their relief that Lika had recovered from her nursing affliction. They had heard Melina's loud and lusty cries these past weeks, a sure sign she was being properly fed. They had also heard Lika arguing with me a lot, especially over Moonfur. They all agreed it was too bad my wife didn't like such a wonderful and intelligent pet.

I kept my mouth shut.

Moonfur changed back to her almost-human form as soon as we were back in the cottage. That night Moonfur talked, really talked, while we ate dinner. She was very excited about meeting the villagers. "They like me!" she exulted. "I play with children, and we run and run, but they not clever like me! I get ball a lot. Tall boy called Smurgen tried to hold ball high where I no jump. But I nip leg, he yelps and drops ball. I get ball, children chase. Fun!"

"You bit a boy?" Lika exclaimed in horror.

"Boy not hurt. Just little ouch-pain, make him drop ball."

"But-"

"The boy wasn't hurt," I emphasized. "In fact, everyone really liked her. She made quite an impression on everyone today."

Lika's frown deepened. "So they will have a few kind words on their lips when they lynch us for hiding a Faerie creature in our home."

"It won't come to that. By Autumn Melina will be eating solid food. Moonfur can leave after that."

The Wolfling shifted uncomfortably at my words. Would she actually be sad to go? We did have more food here than she could ever get on her own.

Or was it something more?

"In fact," I said, "I think Moonfur might be able to help us out in a different way, if she wants. I mean, it would only be natural that a hunter would take his new dog out hunting with him."

Moonfur brightened instantly at the suggestion.

Lika hated it. "Absolutely not! You would have to parade her around the village every day if you did that! What if she slips up? What if they begin to suspect?"

"She did good in the village today. Everyone thinks she's just a dog. Besides, we'd spend most of the day far from here, hunting. We can bring in a lot more kills-and a lot more hides to tan and sell-with two hunters on the job. Think of the extra money that would bring!"

"I good hunter!" Moonfur put in. "I help!"

"No!" Lika snapped. "What if Melina gets hungry while you two are away? And what am I supposed to do with her flea-ridden brat while she's not here?"

Moonfur snarled low at the insult to her own child. "Little Fur stay quiet, like he did in den when I hunt! He not bother you! And I feed Melina before I go, after I get back! She not go hungry!"

"No!" Lika yelled. "Listen, I'm not going to have-"

I shot to my feet, stabbing a finger at my wife. "No, you listen, Lika! This is my house, and my decision! You're my wife, and you're going to live with it whether you like it or not! I don't like to invoke my authority as your husband, but you leave me no choice!"

Lika gulped down the words on her lips, snaking a smoldering glance at Moonfur. "It is true," she said very quietly, "That you don't often invoke your authority over me, husband. Only when it comes to this Faerie bitch, it seems."

Lika stopped yelling so much after that. But her frigid silence disturbed me far more than a dragon wing's worth of screaming.

By summer, things had settled into a routine. Moonfur and I hunted practically every day. My skills and weapons, combined with her more-than-human senses and agility, made us an unparalleled hunting team. Game was plentiful in those warm months, and hardly a week went by when we didn't haul home dozens of pelts and carcasses.

The children grew, Little Fur more swiftly than Melina. Thanks to his Wolfling nature, he was already toddling and eating meat off the table. Melina was just beginning to crawl a bit. She was small for her age, due to the malnutrition in the early weeks of her life.

Lika, for her part, looked after the children while we were gone. Melina received the dragon's share of her attention, while Little Fur was tended to only if he absolutely needed it. We always knew the days that he did, for Lika met us at the door at night to thrust the small Wolfling into his mother's arms with a scowl of contempt.

That was as much as my wife communicated with anybody. She rarely said a word to me for weeks on end, despite all the money and prosperity Moonfur and I were bringing into her life. Our larders were overflowing, and the copper crowns turned to silver ones when I managed to sell a large lot of hides to a caravan passing by on the Tragarian Road two days' hike to the south.

One night mid-season Lika and I lay in bed, backs to each other, as had become our custom. I couldn't sleep, and shook her awake. "A family's wealth is measured by its children," I said. "With so much prosperity, isn't it expected that we have another child?"

"Why?" she snapped. "So Moonfur can suckle that one too, and you'd have an excuse to keep her around forever?" She turned over and curled the covers around her.

The next day her cold answer preoccupied me, so much so that I missed an easy shot at a rabbit Moonfur had flushed out of the underbrush. Moonfur shifted from wolf to humanoid form to scold me. "You no see that? Was good shot!" Then she saw the bow drooping in my hand and the dour mood pursing my lips. She lay a concerned hand on mine. "What wrong?"

"Oh, it's just Lika, Moonfur. Sometimes her sniping really gets to me."

She nodded. "It sad when mate no longer loves you. Hunter lonely, yes? My mate die just after Little Fur start living in belly, killed by big male of pack. I flee, not wanting him to kill me, too, for having cub that not his. I lonely a long time, too."

"How did you handle it?"

Her sad frown melted into an impish grin. She leaned forward and nipped my nose, then bounded away into the forest. "I play!"

I stood there, stunned for a second, before I took off after her, laughing.
It was a game of tag we often played, when prey was scarce or we just needed to work off some excess energy. I would "hunt" her, then she would "hunt" me, leading each other on convoluted chases that were far more challenging than any animal track.

For all my skill, Moonfur was much better at the game than I. Last winter she had been half-starved, weak, and shivering from the cold, making her easy prey for me to follow. Now she was well-fed, alert, at the top of her form. She would transform between Wolfling and wolf as the terrain demanded. Often all I could do was just keep up with her.

But I got the feeling that Moonfur often let me catch her, to assuage any injury to my ego. Just as at that moment I could tell she wasn't really trying to challenge me as much as distract me from my woes.

I caught up to her in the middle of a broad, sunlit field overgrown with heather and wildflowers. One thing I can do with my long legs is run faster than her in her Wolfling form, which she still wore, and I chased her down with a final, flying leap that caught he across her waist. We tumbled and rolled, a gaggle of limbs, laughing the whole way. She ended up under me, and I propped myself up on my arms to look down at her.

"Hunter feel better now?" she gasped.

I nodded, wheezing for air. "Yeah. Yeah, I really do. Thanks. I guess really needed that."

We segued into silence, neither one of us wanting to move just yet. Our eyes locked, and a tingling warmth passed between us.

Moonfur lifted her head and caressed my cheek with her tongue. Not as a dog licks, but as a woman kisses.

An overpowering wave of desire crested high within me. My hands explored her frantically, her body quivering and her throat whimpering in pleasure with each new territory they found. A few scant heartbeats later my clothing lay scattered around us as if caught in a windstorm, as she eagerly welcomed me into her yielding warmth.

Our intimacy lasted hours, both of us howling our ecstasy into the countryside.
From that day forward our daily hunting trips became longer and longer while we brought home less and less game. We became completely preoccupied with pleasuring each other while out in the mountainous forests, with no one save the rustling trees and warbling birds to disturb our lovemaking.

I know Lika suspected, but she said nothing. The only real trouble back at the cottage, in fact, arose from Moonfur, who began acting much more assertive, almost aggressive. She began taunting Lika, occasionally even outrightly defying my wife. Lika endured it all in stony silence.

Mostly those were good days. By the end of the season, just as the trees were turning deep rusts and a tiny hint of winter's chill nipped the air, I realized how deeply I cared for Moonfur. After one of our deep-woods liaisons, I told her so. She just snuggled close, rumbled contentedly, and lick-kissed me in response. No words were necessary for her to tell me how she felt. I could easily imagine running away with Moonfur into the depths of the forest, where no human or Wolfling could ever find us, and raising our children in peace and contentment. Melina would definitely have a better mother in Moonfur than in the frigid and spiteful Lika.

If only winter hadn't been approaching, if only I had time to set up a cabin somewhere, I might have done just that.

When we arrived home, Lika looked smug. As Moonfur changed into her Wolfling form, my wife announced, "Melina took solid food for the first time today with no trouble. I've never seen her eat so much! We can finally get rid of Moonfur!"

"Now, just wait a moment, Lika..."

She spun toward me, her face purpling. "No, you wait, husband! You think I haven't noticed what's been going on with you and that Faerie creature? Do you think I'm blind and stupid? I've put up with it. Seasons, I've put up with so much since you've brought that thing into my home, but it stops now! Either she goes today, right now, or I'm going to the townsfolk and tell them what has really been happening here these past months!"

"You wouldn't!" I yelled. Melina began crying at our raised voices. Little Fur, who had been mewling happily, became as still as a stone. Moonfur watched intently from beside the door.

Lika ignored her daughter's cries. "I would! And I'm going to!" Tears flowed. "I'm sick of putting up with that-that animal whore of yours! She stole my child, my house, and now my husband! You stupid, selfish bastard! Don't you know what I've been through all these months? Or has that Wolfling's furry teats blinded you to everything?" She spat in my face, turning toward the door. "I'm through with it, all of it! I don't care what happens anymore! I'm going to tell the others right now!"

I moved in front of her. "You'll do no such thing! This is still my house and you're still my wife!"

Lika hissed like a cornered cat and pulled one of my tanning knives from the folds of her shift. She must have known it would come to this. She stabbed at me with all her strength, the knife thunking into my right side just below the ribs. I gasped, feeling the alien coldness of the metal slide into my body, sparking an inferno of pain. I staggered back, hand over the wound, trying to stem the torrent of blood.

Lika laughed gleefully. She raised the weapon for another blow. A hideous growl exploded through the cottage, followed by a flash of claws and three streaks of crimson arcing across the room. I looked up to see Lika's face torn across its breadth by three parallel gashes. Moonfur stood between my wife and me, finger claws dripping red, snarling at her rival with hellish fury.
"You stupid Faerie bitch! What have you done to me?" Lika screeched, half-blinded with blood, trying to keep the frightened treble out of her voice. "Step aside! Let me finish off that adulterer of a husband!"

"He not your Mate!" Moonfur snapped. "He give food and shelter and love and all you give him is screams and hate and now knife in belly! You stop being Mate moons ago! He my Mate now! You hurt Mate again I rip throat!" The Wolfling spasmed her clawed hands for emphasis.

For a moment-just a brief heartbeat-Lika contemplated attacking Moonfur. Instead, she threw the knife at the Wolfling to cover her half-stumbling dash for the door, wiping the blood flowing from her face with a messy sleeve. Moonfur easily batted the weapon aside. As soon as Lika was gone, Moonfur turned her attention to me, whimpering with concern.

I all but collapsed in her arms. She lowered me to the bed and without preliminaries lifted my shirt to sniff the wound. She began licking it, slowly and carefully, to clean it. I'll be damned if it didn't ease the harshest edge off the pain.

It also cleared my head, and I realized what Lika must already be doing. I pushed Moonfur's head back. She looked at me, puzzled. "Moonfur, listen. We have to get out of here. Lika will bring the other villagers."

"I fight!" she said defiantly. "I slash and bite, and they leave us alone!"

"Do you think you can win against axes and scythes and arrows? Against two dozen armed and angry hunters?"

Her ears tapered back in apprehension. She knew the answer to that.

"Get the children." We had to take Melina as well as Little Fur. The superstitious townsfolk would put her to death for suckling at the teat of a Faerie Demon. With no small difficulty I stood, trying not to wince at the pain. Moonfur reached out to steady me. "I'll-gah-I'll be fine. Really. But we have to go. Now."

We barely made it out of the cottage in time. In the village square, I saw Lika yelling at a small crowd and pointing in our direction. Some of the villagers spotted us. Within minutes they were giving chase, screaming for our blood.
We ran into the forest, Moonfur burdened with two children, I with my wound. Luckily those first few who ran after us knew little of forest craft, and we lost them easily. But soon the villagers would organize themselves, and come after us with their best hunters and trained dogs.

We weren't even a mile away when we heard the first bayings of hunting hounds. Our only saving grace was that night was approaching, and our pursuers would be as blind as we.

We used every trick we could think of to throw them off; running up and across streams, laying false trails, switchbacks, and more, but in the end it seemed hopeless. We rested for a few seconds on a log beside a lazy, moonlit brook, the distant baying of the dogs getting steadily closer. I was physically spent, blood still leaking from my wound. "Leave-leave me here," I wheezed. "I'll hold them off. Just give me a stick, or something."

Moonfur jiggled Melina in her arms, keeping my daughter calm and quiet. Little Fur clung to his mother's hips. Moonfur looked wistfully at the children, then at me. A great sadness slowly spread through her.

She affectionately nuzzled Melina, then Little Fur, before she brought them to me. Bewildered, I took them as she handed them down. Then she nuzzled close to my cheek, as we often did when intimate. She breathed deeply of my scent, touching each of the children. "You are my Mate," she said, the words heavy in her throat. "Give them good life."

With one last smile, she transformed into wolf-form and bounded off into the darkening forest, back the way we came.

Through my pain and exhaustion, I finally realized what she was doing. "Moonfur, no!" I called into the night, but it was too late. She was gone.
Minutes later, the baying of the dogs reached a crescendo, then dwindled into the distance. They had caught her scent.

Towards dawn, I slowly, carefully, made my way through the mountains. I had dressed my wound as best I could. I carried Melina in one arm, Little Fur in the other. I had no idea how I was going to care for them, how I was even going to feed them the coming day, but I knew I would find a way, somehow.

For her.

A familiar, mournful howl, far away, suddenly echoed through the countryside. It was cut abruptly short. I stumbled, careful not to hurt the children, as the forest around me blurred with tears.

- - -

The soldiers around the table all sat stunned as the Wild Man's words guttered to a stop. Then they all broke up into guffaws, laughing and chiding the prisoner. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, disgusted with the men. Did they lack hearts, to be so unmoved by the prisoner's tale?

"You sure can tell one, for an old yip!"

"Did you really expect us to believe that load of dragon scat?"

"See! I told you he buggered a wolf!"

I spotted Bloodgouge gesturing for my attention. A tilt of my bouncer's massive chin and an arcing of his brows told me a potentially very unpleasant something was gathering outside. He wanted to know if he should take care of it.

I already had an inkling of what was out there. I looked at the prisoner, and just briefly, our eyes met. His small, almost imperceptible smirk confirmed my suspicions. I mouthed a "no" at my bouncer, who nodded and returned to polishing his now-immaculate axe.

"Wait a moment," the sergeant said to the prisoner. "If what you say is true, then what happened to those children?"

The Wild Man grinned wickedly. He tilted his head back and loosed a throaty howl.

The soldiers stood as one, shocked and outraged. But before they could move further, the front door banged open and dark shapes smashed through my shuttered windows. A torrent of wolves poured into the room from every egress, all large, shaggy and powerful, bared fangs flashing in the lamplight.

To their credit, the soldiers tried to fight back. However, as soon as the sergeant drew his sword the largest male clamped onto his forearm, crunching bone and flesh alike in vise-like jaws. The sergeant screamed. The other wolves launched themselves onto the other soldiers, slashing, biting, raking, snapping. It was over in a beat of a dragon's wing.

I retreated slowly and cautiously to the bar. The wolves ignored me, thank the Seasons. One did snarl at Bloodgouge, unsure of which side the massive Orc was on. My bouncer gave the creature a broad wink. It sat back on its haunches and canted its head with a perplexed whine.

The guards' bodies lay sprawled across the room, bloody and broken. The Wild Man fished the key for his fetters from the sergeant's corpse and was soon free. The two largest wolves approached him and he swept them up in his arms, hugging them fiercely. In the midst of that embrace, they transformed, their flesh flowing like melting snow. In the Wild Man's right arm was a broad and powerful Wolfling male, with fur the color of a full moon. In his left stood a naked woman, fully human, but with the gray eyes of a wolf. The woman and the male Wolfling held hands even as they embraced Muruk.

In that moment I realized two things. Melina had indeed been affected by suckling at Moonfur's breast all those months. And the dozen wolves surrounding them were much more than pets or companions. They were the Wild Man's Wolfling grandchildren, born to Little Fur and Melina. His pack, in every sense of the word, come to rescue its patriarch.

The wolves filed out through the door, the adult Melina and Little Fur helping Muruk out last. In the doorway, the Wild Man turned toward me, a broad smile cracking his face into a hundred laugh-lines. "By the way, thanks for the drink, barkeep."

"M-my pleasure," I stuttered.

With that they were gone, melting into the wilderness like a shadow against a starless night.

When Baron Vahl heard of what happened to his men, he lifted the bounty on the Wild Man's head for fear of more murders. Muruk and his pack were never seen by mortal eyes again.

No, that's not quite true.

I wrote down everything I remembered of Muruk's tale in my book. Whenever I told the story of Moonfur at my monthly readings at the Inn, I would find a freshly-killed deer carcass outside my door the next morning. A gift, from those who could appreciate the story best.

Howls would fill the night for days afterward, and they were strangely comforting.

The Battle Of Hoth Unlimited, Part Two

2010-09-13T16:29:00.009-04:00

The first part can be found HERE. Please refer to Part One for the various rules and assumptions we're using for these scenarios. And remember, this is my opinion only, and this is purely for fun!

In Part One, we took a look at the more low tech forces, namely the Xenomorphs, the Zerg, the modern US Military, and Stargate Command. With one exception, the Empire emerged triumphant. However, as we move on to more high-tech combatants, the resistance starts getting much stiffer as the Empire begins dealing with foes with are much closer to being their technological peers.

PANDORAN MILITIA

Source: Avatar

Tech Level: 14-15

In the movie, the Na’vi were able to best the human forces through a series of specialized circumstances, such as a sensor-scrambling electromagnetic field and an apparently sentient biosphere. Those circumstances will not be in play here. Also, in order to fill out the same numbers with the rebels, the militia will be increased from a few hundred as shown in the movie to 2000 total troops.

The mercenary forces on Pandora are mostly supplied with what their society views as cheap, second-rate cast-off equipment or what the colonist were able to manufacture on-site with their limited facilities. Since we don’t get a chance to see what the top-of-the-line gear back on Earth is like, we have to go only with what's shown in the movie.

Composed almost entirely of ex-soldiers from a future Earth that is as ravaged by war as the modern-day version, the militia here has a very strong core of experienced veterans, and they seemed to be highly motivated (their corporate employers were obviously paying them well.) In addition, they faced off regularly against an extremely hostile array of hard-to-kill fauna, and its almost certain that they have armor-piercing rounds and advanced personal armor at least equal to what the SGC employed in the last match-up. Thus, soldier-to-soldier, they have a definitive advantage over the snowtroopers with their superior rates of fire.

In place of the snowspeeders the Pandoran militia will have nine Scorpion rotary-blade gunships, which are armed with 50-caliber rotary guns and missile pods. We don't really see any stationary point defense weapons in the movie, so they'll have instead the AMP mecha walkers, which are armed with 30mm autocannons and three-foot “knives.”

Like with the normal US Military scenario in Part One, sorties of the Scorpion gunships are sent to take care of the AT-ATs. Unlike them, however, the Scorpions with their much higher-tech targeting systems should be able to hit the walkers’ individual moving legs more easily. Concentrated missile fire would eventually start bringing the walkers down. In the end, Scorpions can probably bring down one third to one half of the AT-ATs, though they themselves will probably suffer heavy casualties from concentrated ground fire.

The AMPs vs the AT-STs would be an interesting match-up. Both are very maneuverable robotic walker units, though the AT-ST probably has the edge in size, armor and firepower, while the AMP would have a superior rate of fire and versatility.

So, on balance, the Pandoran Militia can almost evenly match the Imperials unit-to-unit, lacking only heavy armor vehicles that can directly match the AT-ATs. But then, the Rebels in the original movie didn’t have the latter either.

RESULT: Marginal Victory for the Rebels. Despite their higher tech advantages over the modern day US army and the SGC, the Imperials’ numbers still do Pandoran Militia in. Like with the Rebels, they’re able to hold off the enemy so that all the transport ships make it off planet, but only just barely before the Imperials smash their defensive line and destroy the power generators. Casualties suffered will also probably be similar to that of the Rebels as well.

TERMINATORS

Source: The Terminator Movies

Tech Level: 14-15

These are mostly T-800 models (the kind played by Arnold Schwartzenegger in the movies), with a small smattering of T-1000s mixed in, say one T-1000 for every 200 T-800s, or about 10 total. As we’re leaving off the more obscure Star Wars walker units so as not to confuse casual readers, we’ll do the same with many of the more obscure Terminator models from various sources, and just stick with the two everyone probably knows. The T-800s here are flesh coated, as we’re familiar with seeing them in the movies.

Terminators are a bit inconsistent, tactically. At times they’re extremely clever and subtle. At others, they’re single mindedly dim (as with the T-1000’s “you’re twenty feet away but I must stab you with my pointy arm-knives instead of just grabbing a gun and shooting you” strategy in T2.) Since we’re dispensing with Plot-Induced Stupidity (PIS) for these match-ups, we’ll stick with the Terminators able to use smart tactics and subtlety.

In their future, Terminators use advanced, high-caliber firearms with very high rates of fire and ammo capacity. They probably fall somewhere between the capabilities of modern firearms and the high-tech armor-piercing ammunition used by the SGC and the Pandoran Militia. The human resistance was very wily, but was usually not heavily armored. It will probably take more than one shot for a Terminator to bring down a snowtrooper.

It should also be mentioned that Terminators are extremely efficient crack shots (except when aiming at the hero/heroine, of course, but that can be considered PIS.) They will have a much higher rate of hitting their targets, even at long ranges, than any mere human troops. So though their weapons do not have the penetration to take out the snowtroopers with one shot, their inhuman accuracy will more than make up for this deficiency.

The Terminators also luck out in that their coatings of human flesh in a way serve as additional armor for themselves. Since blasters deliver most of their damage as heat, when they hit the outer layer of flesh, it will explode in a messy shower of sparks, steam, and viscera, but leave the robotic chassis underneath largely untouched.

Their endoskeletons, made from an advanced uber-alloy and designed to be extremely tough and bullet proof, could probably also survive a half dozen or so direct blaster hits before the unit goes down. This combined with their flesh ‘armor’ makes the T-800s extremely tough to kill compared to the snowtroopers, though concentrated fire or one or two solid shots to the head will probably do the trick. If the Empire had to rely on just its infantry in this battle, they would likely be completely routed despite their numerical superiority.

Ironically, the usually much more fearsome T-1000s are much more vulnerable to heat damage, so a single blaster hit would disrupt the workings of a T-1000 for at least several seconds, and repeated hits would wear away at its structure until there was too little left to be effective (they supposedly become less intelligent the more mass they lose.) So they’d likely hang back for now.

At first, the enemy’s seeming high resistance to blaster fire would seriously unnerve the snowtroopers. But as soon as they see the metal endoskeletons underneath, cries of ‘they’re just freaking droids!’ would go up through the ranks. Even though these are very tough and deadly units, robots are so ubiquitous in the Empire that the fear-inducing psychological advantage Terminators usually have over human foes would not be present here. Given that droids are a lowly slave class in the Empire, many of the troopers might actually be incensed that these ‘uppity’ mechanicals would dare pretend to be human, and fight back all the fiercer at this affront.

Smart Empire commanders would form up the troops around the AT-STs, to take advantage of the walkers’ heavier firepower to drive wedges through the Terminator’s defensive lines, and let the AT-ATs fully take the lead to give them some cover.

As equivalents to the Rebels snowspeeders, the Terminators have HK-Aerials, the advanced twin-engine air vehicles glimpsed at in most of the movies. These gunships have advanced weapons that include lasers, missiles, and plasma guns, but unfortunately their lasers and plasma guns would be next to useless against the blaster-proof armor. And with the uber-armor the AT-ATs are sporting, it would take quite a bit of concentrated fire from their missiles (which, since they usually fight unarmored humans, probably aren’t that effective against heavy armored units) to affect even the walkers’ leg joints. They have deadly accuracy with these weapons, and can hit the most vulnerable points dead-on almost every time. Even so, at best they may be able to take out a third of the AT-ATs before they become too threatened by concentrated ground fire.

But the AT-ATs may not be safe yet. Seeing that their air units are not faring well, the Terminators may try a different tactic: an organized ground assault on the remaining big walkers. However, this is not just a kamikaze Zerg-like rush. Instead, each group of the T-800s serve as cover for a T-1000, to get them as close to the AT-ATs as possible without damage. Once at the walkers, the T-1000s can make their way up the legs easily, to try and find an egress inside. Any size opening will be enough for them, even if its an inch or less across, and they’re strong enough that they could pull off vent covers and the like (like the one that Luke cut open with his lightsaber.) Once inside the vehicles, the T-1000s make quick work of any crew or troopers there.

Though this tactic will not work on ever AT-AT (the imperials would wise up to it fast), it may take out a significant number of the remaining walkers, slowing the advance.

RESULT: Marginal Rebel Victory. This is the one match-up in these scenarios that seems almost dead even and could go either way easily. The Terminators’ inherent toughness and deadly accuracy make up for their disadvantages in numbers and weapon sophistication. It would come down to how effective the T-1000 gambit with AT-AT walkers would prove. Between the HK-Aerials and the T-1000s, all but one or two of the walkers would probably eventually be taken out. However, that’s all that’s needed to break through the defensive lines and take out the generators. The Imperials are delayed long enough for the transports to get away, and the base will eventually be captured after a long, drawn out fight with the surviving Terminators.

JAFFA

Source: Stargate SG-1 (Gua’uld)

Tech Level: 18

These are the Jaffa as the Gua’uld first employed them in the early seasons of Stargate: SG-1, not the Free Jaffa they evolved into later in the series.

The Gua’uld system lord are the technological peers of Star Wars’ Empire, having many of the same major innovations in place (antigravity, force fields, plasma weapons, etc.) Yet they have failed to take full advantage of what that technology is capable of. And in no place is this more apparent than in their personal guard/ground troops, the Jaffa.

This is not the fault of the Jaffa themselves, who were often shown to have extremely high quality training, morale, and motivation (often deriving from their religious fervor, falsely believing that the aliens they served were real gods.) Rather, their Gua’uld masters succumbed to a number of cultural deficiencies that left them deficient as a fighting force.

The Gua’uld were first and foremost arrogant, having no real rivals in the Milky way Galaxy for thousands of years, save for members of their own kind. They had no reason to develop better tactics. They were technological scavengers, having stolen most of their high technology from other races, and were extremely slow to innovate on their own. And the Jaffa was used also as a police force, and much of their equipment were meant more to terrify a superstitious populace into submission than to serve as practical weapons of war. Those choices will serve the Jaffa poorly here.

The Jaffa’s primary armament is the staff weapon. Two meters long, it can shoot plasma bursts of similar performance and power to a stormtrooper’s blaster, and can double as a quarterstaff-like hand weapon. The Jaffa employ very heavy, highly-stylized armor. However, it also hampers movement and has no internal displays or sensors beyond a simple 'periscope' system that allows them to see normally out of their raised headpieces.

Since the two sides’ weapons are very similar in performance, and a single shot from a staff weapon can take down another armored Jaffa, I think its safe to say that the SW troopers’ weapons will have a similar effect, despite the Jaffa’s thicker-seeming armor. Point-defense weapons will be tripod-mounted plasma weapons seen very occasionally in the series, and in place of the Rebels’ speeders, they have 9 death gliders (unlike the SGC’s modified versions, the original death gliders seemed designed with ground strafing in mind as one of their primary functions.)

Though as individual warriors the Jaffa can be truly exceptional, their grasp of group tactics seem universally abysmal throughout the run of Stargate: SG-1. They will fight fiercely, but not effectively as a unit. So despite their better overall troop quality, their leaders’ inability to grasp effective tactics puts them at a disadvantage as compared to the snowtroopers.

The death gliders run into a problem as well. The armor of the AT-ATs are blaster proof, even in the legs. The weapons on the death gliders, which seem to have similar capabilities, therefore will not be able to much to harm the plodding behemoths.

RESULT: Decisive Victory for the Empire. The Jaffa inflict heavy casualties, but in the end their incoherence as an integrated fighting force and their inability to do much to the Empire’s armored units result in the Empire reaching and destroying the power generators with only moderate delays. A number of transports are caught on the ground, and the base is captured.

THIRD IMPERIUM GROUND FORCES

Source: Traveller RPG

Tech Level: 18

In some ways, the Third Imperium of the Traveller RPG universe is the opposite of the Jaffa. They too are technological peers of Star Wars’ Empire, at Tech Level 18. However, they take far greater advantage of what their technology is capable of than the Empire does, at least as far as their ground military is concerned. The Empire’s technology would probably dominate in space, but on planet surfaces the story would be completely different.

The Third Imperium (TI)is composed of 11,000+ worlds, which actually have a huge variety of Tech Levels spread among them. We’ve already seen what their lower-tech level troops could probably do with other groups using similar technology, such as the Pandoran Militia. Here, we’ll use its highest tech troops at the same Tech Level of the Empire’s.

The most significant advantage for the average TI trooper is being equipped with powered battle armor, similar in many ways to the armors used in the novel Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein. With Star Wars’s very advanced robotics, its surprising that this technology seems to have been given the short shrift in the Empire. The Third Imperium took full advantage of it, however. These powered battle armors are superior to stormtrooper armor in every way. They allow full range of movement, enhance the user’s strength, and is equipped with an advanced sensor suite (IR, radar, light enhancement, telescopic, etc) and holographic helmet displays.

Also standard equipment are grav belts, which allow the Third Imperium trooper to actually fly and maneuver in the air for short periods of time if necessary. Most often, though, they’re used for simple ‘jumps’ to gain a lot of ground in a hurry. Advanced anti gravity is something often seen in the Empire, but apparently is never used outside of vehicles and spaceships and other specialized applications.

Their standard weapon is the PGMPs, or Plasma Gun Man Portable. They use the same operating principle as the snowtroopers’ blasters, but are ginned up into much more devastating weapons. The bolts travel far faster (equivalent of high speed bullets vs. the fast ball pitches of the SW blasters) and are much hotter (at least ten thousands degrees.) They have ranges of several kilometers, are equipped with advanced targeting scopes, and often have attached underslung grenade launchers. The armor the Traveller forces wear are actually designed to withstand at least one shot by PGMPs, meaning the weaker blaster rifles used by the snowtroopers will only do minimal damage. The heavier blasters of the AT-STs or the AT-Ats would be needed to take out a TI trooper in a single shot.

What this means is that the average Third Imperium high-tech trooper is more than a match for quite a number of Empire snowtroopers. Concentrated blaster fire could take down an armored Third Imperium trooper, but given the greater range and power of the PGMPs it seems unlikely that any will come close enough for that to happen, even with the Empire’s greater numbers.

Point defense weapons would be heavy fusion guns mounted on tripods, which have ranges of several kilometers and advanced targeting systems. Fusion guns are similar to plasma guns, except they contain their plasma in their compressed magnetic bottle long enough for a fusion process to begin, greatly increasing the amount of heat/energy the bolt has (at least 200,000 plus degrees) when finally released. Though the AT-ATs are ‘blaster proof’, these weapons would seriously put that to the test. An AT-AT could maybe survive one hit, but two or three or more in rapid succession would likely take it down.

If all this wasn’t bad enough, the snow speeder equivalents used here are the mainstay of Third Imperium high-tech armor units, the Trepida (short for Trepidation) grav tank. These are about the same size as a modern M-1 Abrams tank, but are truly monstrous weapon systems. For the first time in these scenarios, the AT-ATs meet their match in a heavy armor unit.

As a grav tank, the Trepidas use advanced anti gravity technology and are more maneuverable than modern day attack helicopters, as well as being capable of achieving transonic speeds if needed. They are equipped with the best sensors and targeting systems of their tech level, and are powered by long-enduring fusion generators.

The tank, in Third Imperium currency, costs a little over 81 million credits to build. 79 million of that is spent just on its gun, a rapid-fire heavy fusion gun with a range of many kilometers. Plus the tank is designed to take shots from other Trepidas, at least along its very heavily armored forward arc, and could withstand fire for a time from even the AT-ATs’ heavy blasters.

Ton for ton, they are just as tough as the AT-ATs, but are far more maneuverable and mount a far more versatile and devastating main weapon. In most circumstances a Trepida would make very short work of any AT-AT and barely get a scratch. And once the Trepida’s are done with the heavy walkers, they turn their fusion firepower on the AT-STs and snowtrooper lines.

RESULTS: Decisive Rebel Victory. A complete route of the Empire forces. As soon as the assault is spotted, all nine Trepida grav tanks pop up and smash the Empire’s armor units and advancing lines with a long-range rapid-fire barrage of star-hot fusion fire. The rapid-fire main tank guns overwhelm the blaster-proof armor of the AT-ATs and the walkers are slagged in short order. The powered armor troopers are used mainly for clean up. The battle lasts less than a minute, and the Empire forces never come within a kilometer of the base.

STARFLEET PERSONNEL

Source: Star Trek (DS9 era)

Tech Level: 21/22

Once we get past the Empire’s Tech Level of 18, the battles with other science fiction forces become more and more one-sided. The results of the imperial forces facing off against, say, 2000 Ringworld-Era Kzinti or 2000 Daleks should be pretty obvious (though admittedly they might still be cool spectacles to watch.) However, given the traditional (and on many levels silly) rivalry between the two fandoms, there’s one we really have to address: Star Trek’s Federation and its Starfleet Personnel.

At the beginning of these scenarios, we dispensed with Plot-Induced Stupidity (PIS), and Star Trek is by far one of the worst purveyors of it. In fact, its creators have even stated that they purposely dumb down some parts of the show to keep it accessible from week to week to the casual, non-scifi viewer. The crews conveniently forget about the supertechnology they tripped across or invented just the week before, the transporters fail if someone sneezes too hard, and they ignore the fact their weapons have ranges of hundreds of thousands of miles and trade shots with other ships at eyeball range.

However, when we remove PIS, it quickly becomes obvious just how powerful Star Trek technology can be, and how potentially terrifying it could prove to be on the wrong end of it. The DS9 era is chosen here because that’s the series of the show that portrayed the most ground combat.

Starfleet crews are very high quality troops. They’re highly motivated, trained, and disciplined, chosen only from the best and brightest of the Federation. Though humanitarian and often compassionate, Starfleet personnel will kill if necessary, and that will be the case here. Dispensing with the Redshirt-Ricky-Gets-Eaten-By-The-Monster-Of-The-Week PIS, its very easy to see how formidable opponents they can be, even if the Tech Level was even.

But its not. The plasma guns and fusion guns fielded by the Third Imperium troops in the last scenario were very impressive and devastating. But phasers, even the humble Type II hand phasers from the original series, are even more so.

With enough power in its cells to apparently nuke a starship if set on overload, these weapons are amazingly versatile, both in use and power. Their fire modes range from single shot, continuous beam, wide beam, and autofire. Their power can be set to simply disrupt someone’s nervous system (stun), to deliver energy blasts that can superheat a substance or make it explode, to full-on nuclear disintegration. Each is capable of firing thousands of killing shots (less if used on its very high settings) before its cells run dry, and the weapons have ranges of thousands of meters.

Its been pointed out that phasers are ergonomically poorly designed, and that’s true. But then, I’ve seen people in arcades blasting around those weird looking plastic weapons that shooter games have and become amazing crack shots with them. The phaser, very lightweight with no recoil, would handle very similarly to them. So a cylindrical handle, ‘dustbuster’ configuration, or lack of iron sights will not prevent a person properly trained with them from being able to hit their targets.

Their power as hand weapons are pretty hard to deny. I remember reading once that on its highest setting, a hand phaser could disintegrate over 400 cubic feet of matter. The composition of the target wouldn’t matter (and hence most armor, even the ‘blaster proof’ type, would be useless) because it’s a chain reaction taking place in the target’s atomic nuclei.

Being able to disintegrate the snowtroopers or some of the armor units in a single shot would be no laughing matter to the other side. It would be terrifying, and almost as bad for snowtrooper morale as facing the Zerg.

Of course chances are the Starfleet personnel would just use killing settings on the snowtroopers, and save the disintegration for the AT-STs, or the AT-ATs’ leg joints. In the original series episode ‘The Omega Glory’, the Mad Captain Of The Week described how he and a handful of other men, armed with just hand phasers, killed many thousands of natives in a single battle. Having much longer ranges, power, and endurance than the snowtroopers’ blasters, they would be able to accomplish the same thing here. One can imagine setting the phasers on continuous beam set to kill, and just sweeping them back and forth over the approaching troopers. Now repeat for 2000 or so defenders. In most ground battles in the various series, the first thing any combatant does when the phasers start firing is head for cover. Out in the open in the snowy wasteland, the snowtroopers won't have that option.

With tricorders, the Starfleet crews could also pinpoint the power sources of each of the armor units, and may elect to just use concentrated fire to take them out instead of destroying the whole vehicle.

The Star Trek universe mostly lacks tactical point defense weapons and armored land vehicles; it could be that ubiquitous disintegration weapons and teleportation rendered these obsolete. The only traditional-looking tactical weapon I ever recall seeing on the show was the photon grenade mortar from the original series episode ‘Arena’, and they seemed to have mini-nuke-level explosive yield (a distance of 1200 yards to the target was cited as being kind of too close to safely use one of those things, and they dived for cover as soon as it was launched.) Even if the Starfleet side does have these, they likely won’t use them in this battle, as the blasts could collapse the underground base.

Instead of snowspeeder equivalents, we’ll instead allow the Starfleet side to have their preferred mode of on-planet travel—a six-person transporter room and the sensors and power source needed to make them work for at least the breadth of the battlefield. This allows the Starfleet side to use a very unusual tactic in taking out the Imperials’ armored vehicle—they simply beam the crews off of them. The blaster-proof armor would likely be no hinderance, anymore than starship hulls are in the Star Trek series. In fact, this would probably be their preferred tactic, as it would be the most humanitarian way to deal with the enemy, at least with the AT-ATs and the AT-STs. They could also teleport away vital parts of the walkers, such as the pins holing the knee joints together or some vital power conduit or something similar.

To the troopers and Imperial commanders, the walker units would just slowly grind to a halt, and just stand there silently. Some of the AT-STs may fall over. The commanders on the ground halt the advance to investigate, and discover the crews and troops on board have literally vanished. Their men now thoroughly unnerved, they will have a hard time getting the advance to move forward again, even if they have replacement crews for the vehicles readily available. (But of course those would just end up vanishing as well a few minutes later)

If the Federation personnel really wanted to play mind games, they could also beam away the commanders as well at that point. The trooopers, who have never seen teleportation before but may have seen some of their fellows disintegrated a few minutes ago, may conclude that their commanders were simply wiped out of existence by some unknown weapon of terror. Now with no heavy vehicles and no leaders, the spooked snowtroopers do the only sensible thing: break their advance and retreat to get new orders. Using this tactic, its entirely possible the Starfleet personnel could stymie the ground assault with minimal casualties on either side. They would, however, now have several hundred prisoners they would have to deal with, at least until the last transport was away.

Of course, this assumes Starfleet is in their usual nice guy mode. If they wanted to be completely ruthless, they’d just beam the vehicle crews and commanders a mile into the ground, and use the phasers on full disintegration to wipe out every single snowtrooper to the man.

RESULT: Decisive Rebel Victory. Freed from PIS, Starfleet’s technical advantages (especially phasers and transporters) simply prove too overwhelming. Like with the Traveller scenario above, the Imperial troops probably never make it to within a kilometer of the base. A number of Imperial troops are taken prisoner via the transporter. All Rebel transport ships make it off-planet, and the base is never taken.

CONCLUSION

There are many more possible match-ups, and we could go on with probably dozens of different match ups just for the heck of it, but I only wanted to give a representative sample to contrast how ground combat is handled in different science fiction sources. Hope you enjoyed these fun little what-if scenarios.

The Battle Of Hoth Unlimited, Part One

2010-09-10T17:34:00.014-04:00

This article started out as a comparison of how different scifi properties portray tactical combat. To spice things up, I decided to pattern this article after a lively forum board debate I read through years ago, by placing said troops into an actual battle scenario from science fiction and see how they would do. For this, I’ve chosen the Battle of Hoth, one of the most famous ground engagements in on-screen science fiction, from The Empire Strikes Back.

The militaries from various sources will be replacing the rebels defending the base, and we’ll see how each will handle the Imperial ground assault. Remember this is my opinion only, and is purely for fun.

THE SCENARIO

The Empire has discovered a major Rebel base on Hoth, a world gripped in a severe ice age and completely covered over in glaciers and snow. The Imperial Fleet arrives in orbit, and the Rebels activate a large shield over the base that prevents orbital bombardment or direct landing of troops. So the Imperials send in a mechanized division outside the field radius to take out the field generator through an old-fashioned ground assault. Their primary objective is to capture and/or destroy the base’s main generators powering the shield, at the center of Rebel-defended territory.

The Rebels attempt to evacuate base, piling everyone they can into ships to run the Imperial blockade in high orbit. While the base is being evacuated, a number of stalwart rebels fight a holding action against the oncoming Imperial troops to give their fellows time to escape.

Because of the overhead shield, neither side can employ any type of high-altitude attack craft or weapon. Like in the movie, the defenders have to hold out as long as they can.

This battle was actually much larger than what was portrayed on screen. The film narrowly followed only the parts of it Luke and the other principles were involved in, but the battle actually involved thousands of troops and the siege taking place on various fronts simultaneously.

VICTORY CONDITIONS:

Rebel Decisive Win: All the transports get away safely, and the Imperials never take the base.

Rebel Marginal Win: All of the transports get away safely, but the Imperials take the base (this was the result in the movie.)

Imperial Marginal Win: The Imperials take the base quickly enough that a good percentage of the transports never make it away.

Imperial Decisive Win: Imperials take the base with hardly any resistance and intercept most of the transports before they leave planet.

THE RULES

Basically, as we switch out the Rebels for various other sci-fi troops, these soldiers will be given any equipment and weapons from their source material that approximate the role of equipment the rebels had. For example, the rebels defending the base had 9 speeders, so the new troops will also have 9 low-altitude attack craft their forces would typically employ, or the closest equivalent they have in their source material. They will also be employed in roughly the same numbers the rebels were.

Also, like the rebels, the new troops will also be well versed in winter warfare tactics and can take advantage of the environment just as well.

A NOTE ON PLOT-INDUCED STUPIDITY

For this scenario, we are jettisoning what’s called Plot-Induced Stupidity (PIS.) A term that’s become popular with fans of various stripes online, PIS is when characters act outrightly idiotic against common logic, or when events in the story take a badly contrived turn, in order to move the plot along. Some rather famous examples include elite Imperial Stormtroopers in Return of the Jedi being routed by stone-age teddy bears, or some convenient glitch in Star Trek that prevents the crew from using their transporter at a critical moment.

So for this article, PIS is dispensed with across the board for attackers and defenders both. All equipment will work the way it is supposed to, and all troopers involved on both sides will act competently and use smart tactics wherever appropriate.

THE IMPERIAL FORCES

First, let’s take a look at the attacking force.

The Imperials are at about Tech Level 18, meaning they’re a fairly typical space-opera civilization technologically. They do not always employ equipment that takes full advantage of their society’s technical sophistication (why employ clumsy walker units when they have extremely versatile anti-grav technology?), but what they lack in sophistication they usually make up for in ruthlessness and sheer numbers. The Imperials’ favored military tactic usually involves head-on confrontation with overwhelming force. Subtleties and scheming is usually left to the Sith overlords and their pet generals.

In this scenario, they are employing (at least according to the Wikipedia article on the Battle for Hoth) 9 AT-AT walkers, various smaller walker units (AT-ST units,) and a division of Stormtroopers specifically trained and outfitted for winter conditions. Total Imperial ground troop strength is around 12,000 personnel. Other types of combat walkers are mentioned in EU sources, but they’ll be left off here. We don’t want to confuse casual readers too much, so we’re just going to stick mostly to the types of units seen onscreen in the movie. The walker units advance ahead of the main bodies of foot soldiers, in order to use their superior armor and weapons to smash through the gathered Rebel defenses. Of course, the AT-ATs are carrying a fair number of troops as well.

The Stormtroopers have full-body armor designed to be impact resistant and thermally insulated. The helmets have a full radio suite and a heads-up display with several limited sensor capabilities, such as infrared. The armor, however, does limit movement somewhat, and the helmets severely limit real world vision. This means that if the HUD goes down, the trooper will only have a narrow field of vision unless he removes his helmet.

Their primary weapons are “blasters,” which seem to be low-velocity plasma weapons; basically the weapons superheat a compressed volume of gas into a plasma state then release it as a magnetically-focused bolt. Despite doing potentially impressive heat damage, the Imperial versions seem to travel at low speeds (equivalent to a baseball fastball pitch) and have limited penetration capabilities. On the plus side, though, they are very long-enduring (we never see a Stormtrooper who has to stop to reload), have good effective ranges, and are very rugged.

The Imperial armies do seem to have a troop quality issue that goes beyond the keystone-kop-like PIS we see sometimes. Many don’t seem well motivated or well trained, at least compared to many modern real-world militaries. The Imperials, at least in the movies, depend less on elite, skilled soldiers and much more on raw numbers. The troopers that were involved on Hoth seemed better than most seen throughout the series, but general troop quality is still something that must be taken into consideration.

The quality of the commanding officers (excluding Vader and a few others) seems to be exceptionally dismal. They’re usually portrayed as barely competent and haughty, basically over-promoted bureaucrats more interested in sucking up to their superiors than in actually getting their jobs done right.

And there’s no getting around the most glaring problem with the Imperial forces in this scenario: the AT-AT walkers. They are one of the most impractically designed ground military vehicles ever put on screen. They’re basically slow moving, top-heavy, walking targets. Though they do look very neat (which is probably all the film makers were primarily concerned about) in most ‘realistic’ engagements they’d be more a liability than an asset.

The good is that they’re very heavily armored; Luke even states they’re blaster-proof. The bad--the very bad--is that this chassis is balanced high atop of four very tall, very vulnerable legs. If the vehicle falls, it can’t right itself, and it also seems like heavily uneven terrain could seriously stymie it. Still, the AT-ATs also carry some impressive firepower in the form of forward-mounted heavy blasters. In fact, if the AT-ATs can somehow make it to the defensive perimeter, their heavy firepower is usually assured to bring down any defenses there.

The AT-STs are much better suited for this kind of fight. Though they are also a bit top-heavy for their size, they make up for it by being speedy and maneuverable. Though they seemed underused in the movie, in truth they would be highly effective in hit and run tactics and in infantry-support roles. In a more realistic scenario, they, not the AT-ATs, would prove to be the key weapon system that would allow the Imperials to capture the base.

In summary, the Imperials represent a formidable invasion force, though they do have some weaknesses foes may be able to take advantage of.

THE DEFENDERS

In the movie, the base is defended by about 2000 rebel infantry (making them outnumbered by about six to one). Besides the aforementioned nine attack speeders, they also had various hard point defense turrets at strategic locations and minor vehicles and mounts (tauntauns) to move troops and supplies around. The various new defenders will be given their source-material tactical equivalents of these.

In the movie, the rebels suffered devastating losses; well over a thousand defenders were killed and just as many captured or MIA. We’ll see who can do better, and who can do worse. As per OV tradition, we’ll take the defending forces from lowest tech and work our way up you the highest tech troops.

XENOMORPHS

Source: The Aliens movies

Tech Level: 0

The xenomorphs have no technology per se, so its basically just them naked against the invaders, about two thousand strong, positioned in clusters throughout the base, with a Queen and two dozen eggs/facehuggers for every 200 drones or so.

At first, out in the open, the Imperials do very well. With their far superior numbers and firepower, they have no trouble picking off any groups of drones sent out to attack them. The Imperials will have little trouble reaching the base proper or getting to the power generators.

But, as anyone who’s ever seen the Aliens movies can guess, once they actually begin moving into the base itself is when the horror show really begins.

The aliens are very good at stealth, hiding in relatively small spaces, and executing hit-and run ambush tactics. Plus they do not show up on infrared scans. The stormtroopers will be seriously stymied at first, but will likely adjust their tactics once they discover what they’re up against. They do have the advantage of numbers, plus their armor provides them with at least some protection from the xenomorphs’ violent physical attacks and acid blood. Sweeping through the base slowly but cautiously in large groups, they’re likely to take horrific losses, but will eventually make their way through to the field generator.

RESULTS: Imperial Decisive Victory. The Imperials will eventually capture the base, but in the process will lose at least several hundred troops, much more than against the original Rebels. The increased amount of time the Imperials spend capturing the base itself is made up for in a far more speedier traversing of ground from their drop points, allowing them to blow the generators much earlier than in the movie and intercept many rebel transports.

THE ZERG

Source: Starcraft

Tech Level: 0

Purely biological, the Zerg have no technology per se.

As we made a point of jettisoning PIS, we’ll also do the same in this case with GIS—Game Induced Stupidity. Some odd, and even non-sensical, abstractions were necessary in the Starcraft game in order to make the product playable and fun. Soldiers with rifles shooting down battleship-sized starships, producing entire armies with blue crystals and green gas, hatching tank-sized critters in under five minutes, and so on. The games’ narrative, visuals, and cut scenes will be used for a more ‘realistic’ version of the Zerg we’ll use here.

Because of the overhead shield, the Zerg will likely not bother with many air units, excepting Overlords. Instead, the Cerebrate in charge of defense will produce huge amounts of Zerlings and Hydralisks, along with nine Ultralisks to equal the Rebels’ snowspeeders. Point defenses around and within the base will be Sunken Colonies or burrowed Defilers.

Like the Imperials, the Zerg’s favorite tactic is a frontal assault with overwhelming numbers. And that’s exactly what they’ll do; organize three direct assaults on the three AT-AT groups to take down what they see as the most obvious threat right away. Each assault group would likely consist of one hundred to several hundred zerglings and hydralisks to assist three ultralisks.

The problem for the Imperials here is that individual Zerg are much tougher physically than any rebel or even xenomorph. As seen in cut scenes in the game, even the zerglings, the least of the Zerg, can withstand full autofire from Terran gauss guns for a short time. The blasters the troopers are armed with do not have the rate of fire nor the penetration capability of guass guns, and the hydralisks and ultralisks in the attack force are considerably tougher than the zerglings. Though concentrated fire will eventually bring the critters down, it will take a substantial amount.

Seeing several hundred of these monstrous creatures stampeding directly at them, shrugging off most weapons fire, is sure to rattle even the most seasoned soldier. But even with their superior size and toughness, the ultralisks will likely fall fairly quickly, as they would draw the most fire immediately.

But even with the behemoths out of the picture, the AT-AT walkers will likely be doomed, as they learn first hand the meaning of the term “zerg rush.” Zerglings and hydralisks swarm the vehicles dozens strongs, ripping apart their metal legs and tearing them down. Then the survivors turn their fury on the troops and smaller combat walkers, with very messy results for the Imperials. The troopers would eventually prevail from their superior numbers, but would be badly battered and demoralized from these initial assaults.

But once they reach the base perimeter, new horrors await them, in the form of sunken colonies and Defilers heaping Plague attacks on them, plus whatever ground forces the Zerg may have held in reserve. Here, unfortunately, is where the Imperial assault breaks like a wave against a dam. Already badly battered by the initial assaults, the troopers’ thin morale disintegrates as fifty-foot tendril-tongues erupt from under the snow to impale and crush them without warning, they’re continually gassed and horribly weakened by the Defilers, and the troopers who get too close to the battlements are ripped to shreds from Zerglings or hit with bolts of acid from Hydralisks.

RESULT: Rebel Decisive Victory. The Imperials retreat with horrible losses, perhaps as much as 40-50% of their ground forces. The Zerg suffer a similar percentage loss, but have no morale problems and are already spawning replacements. The Imperial commanders in orbit, no matter their threats, will not be able to get the troops to brave that meat-grinding horror of the Zerg defenses again. The base is never taken, and all rebel ships make it off planet intact.

MODERN US MILITARY

Tech Level: 10

The US military is not only highly-trained and disciplined, it is also the most technologically advanced military in the world. This makes US soldiers the best suited of any real-world combatants, past or present, for having a chance of taking on the higher-tech forces of the Empire.

The US military maintains very high troop quality, in sharp contrast to the Imperials. In the wake of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the US has a solid core of highly experienced combat veterans, and as a purely volunteer force, the soldiers are in general well motivated to begin with. Even though the Imperial division assigned to the ground assault is very competent by stormtrooper standards, the US soldiers will still be several notches above them in overall quality.

(I’m not an expert in modern military weapons, so forgive me if some assignations of equipment below might be off)

Point defenses will primarily be M-2 50 caliber machine guns or similar, with MK 19 40 mm machine guns (a type of armor-piercing autogrenade launcher) placed in areas where they can expect to be hit with heavy armor units. Both types of guns are mobile, and can be moved around as needed to different hard points. Low-altitude attack craft in place of speeders will be MH-60L Blackhawk attack helicopters.

Realistically, the US troops would also do what they could to heavily mine the most likely approaches the Imperials would take. However, since the Rebels in the movie did not use the tactic (most likely due to lack of prep time), it will be disallowed for the US troops as well.

The primary infantry weapon of the US armed forces is the M-16A2, with some units being equipped with M-4 carbines. Most squads would also be issued at least one M-249 SAW. These weapons do have some advantages over the Imperials’ blasters. First and foremost, they can deliver much greater rates of fire, and can deliver a much more potent kinetic energy punch to their targets.

However, Stormtrooper armor seems very good at absorbing kinetic impact, and given their tech level, will probably hold up to at least a few hits by modern day bullets. In fact, the situation will probably be similar to what US troops encountering J’afa in the original Stargate movie and in the earlier seasons of Stargate: SG-1; it will probably take concentrated autofire on any one target to bring them down.

The same will probably not be true on the other side. Even though the US armor is very effective against kinetic impact and penetration, they are not graded to withstand intense heat. The imperials’ blasters deliver most of their damage as heat, probably at least over a thousand degrees Fahrenheit, concentrated in a focused super-heated stream. Most likely most dead-on shots will penetrate the US soldiers’ armor; those that don’t may have the plasma “splash” against the target like a wave, causing severe secondary burns.

When the imperial assault is first spotted, Blackhawk helicopter sorties are organized to try and take out the AT-AT groups. The helicopters are as fast and nearly as maneuverable as the speeders shown in the movie, and have much longer-ranged weapons. However, the AT-AT’s heavy armor prevents their missiles or their rotary guns from penetrating the main chasis. So they will quickly adopt an alternate strategy: attacking the legs.

As noted earlier, an AT-AT’s big vulnerability is that most of its mass is balanced on four very tall legs. Take out even one of those legs, and the entire vehicle is neutralized. Also, the guns most likely to take out the Blackhawks, the turbo cannons on the AT-AT’s ‘heads’, have a fairly restrictive firing arc, meaning smart helicopter pilots will quickly learn to swing around and come at the walkers from the rear.

The legs are also heavily armored and heavy-duty, and withstood up to repeated blaster fire in the movie. However, missiles are not blasters, and deliver their damage mostly through kinetic impact and explosive concussion. While the walkers may be nigh-invulnerable to the blasters (perhaps by using a thermal superconducting mesh in the armor, which re-radiated away the heat?), kinetic impacts, if strong enough, could just hammer away at the joints until they buckle.

Even so, anything other than a direct hit by an anti-armor missile from the Blackhawks will likely be inadequate, and even then, it will likely take more than one shot.

Modern missiles are very good at homing in on specific individual targets. However, pinpoint-targeting different areas of a target vehicle is something much harder to engineer with modern technology. So hitting the moving, relatively thin legs of the AT-AT’s are going to be difficult. I estimate at best the Blackhawks could take down 1-2 AT-ATs before they themselves become imperiled by organized ground fire.

At the perimeter, the fighting is very fierce, but the US troops are simply too low-tech compared to the Imperials and too out-numbered to prevail. Especially devastating to the US troops are the AT-STs; their speed, maneuverability, and relatively heavy firepower wreak havoc with the US defenses. The surviving Blackhawks pick off what they can, but it likely won’t be enough. When the AT-AT’s with their heavy blasters come within range of the defensive lines, the fight is pretty much over.

RESULT: Marginal Victory for the Imperials. The US forces manage to inflict much heavier troop casualties among the Imperial infantry than the Rebels, thanks to superior rates of fire, but would be much less effective at taking out the enemy armor units, which most of their weapons can’t seriously affect. The only time the Imperial advance is significantly slowed is when the main body of troops reach the defensive perimeter, and all too soon that is breached when the Imperial armor is brought up. The Imperials take down the field generator with numerous rebel ships still on the ground, and capture the base.

STARGATE COMMAND

Source: Stargate SG-1, Stargate: Atlantis

Tech Level: 13-15

Stargate Command itself employs only a few hundred actual combat troops. For this scenario we’ll assume they use normal US troops, as above, to fill out their ranks to the 2000 or so soldiers needed to take the Rebels’ place.

Stargate Command, technically under the auspices of the USAF but more practically its own branch of the US military, has a number of advantages over the ‘normal’ US troops used in the last scenario. Not only do they have captured and adapted alien technology, but they have become highly experienced specialists in fighting battles against foes with superior technology.

Weapons used by the main troops will be as outlined above for the normal US troops. However, it was established that the SGC developed and employed on a regular basis specialized equipment designed to neutralize advantages of the much higher-tech J’afa warriors. They have advanced ammunition that can readily penetrate high-tech armor, and have inserts in their own body armor designed to withstand the plasma blasts of the J’afa staff weapons. Since the Imperials and the Gua’uld J’afa have approximately the same Tech level (18), we can assume that these innovations will be as equally effective against the Imperial snowtroopers. They distribute what they’ll have along these lines to as many of the normal troops as they can, so let’s assume for simplicity’s sake that about half the soldiers have these enhancements.

What this means is that unlike the normal US troops, their weapons can take down individual Imperial troopers with a single shot. So, soldier-to-soldier, they would actually have an advantage, in that the SG teams’ weapons have much greater rates of fire, and would be bolstered here and there by Zat guns and some other captured alien tech. There is also an even greater discrepancy in overall troop quality; the SG teams are the very cream of the crop of the US military, so they would have even better overall training, morale, and motivation than normal US troops.

However, these advantages may not be able to overcome their big disadvantage: lack of advanced armor units. In defending against alien threats in the various series, the SGC had a two pronged approach: space-going battlewagons that could engage in strategic battles in space, and ground troops that could engage in insurgent and guerilla tactics via the Stargates. While both approaches in the end proved very effective, it left a gap in development of their high-tech arsenal: armored fighting vehicles and aircraft.

Basically, the SGC has no high-tech equivalent of the snowspeeders (fighters like the X-303s are designed as high-speed, high-altitude/space attack aircraft, and would be poorly employed here) and will have to rely on what the normal US military used in the last scenario. Thus, they likely won’t have any better success in stopping the AT-AT advance, and will likely only take out a handful of them.

RESULT: Marginal Imperial Victory. Greater troop-to-troop casualties will only slow the Imperials down slightly, given their usual ruthlessness toward their own men. The Imperials will take a greater number of casualties, maybe twice that the normal US military by itself was able to inflict, but in the end the defenses fold as soon as the Imperial walkers smash through the defensive line. The imperials capture a number of rebel ships still on the ground.

Go HERE for part two: Avatar, Traveller, Star Trek, and more.

Asteroid Discovery Animation

2010-08-26T19:59:00.003-04:00

Sorry for the lack of updates recently. I've had a very Wile E. Coyote summer, with three separate injuries since June (a fractured foot, a sprained ankle, and bursitis in my elbow.) Along with all the various heat waves its kept me from a lot of various creative work.

Anyway, to get back into the groove of things, I thought readers might be interested in THIS ANIMATION found on youtube, showing the sum of asteroid discoveries from 1980 through 2010. The text with the video explains the color codes and other features. Its fascinating to watch, both from an intellectual/science wonk perspective, but also beautiful in its way, almost a work of art.

My Favorite Scifi Disasters

2010-08-10T23:20:00.009-04:00

I've just finished reading Flood by Stephen Baxter. Like most Baxter books, it is somewhat lacking in compelling characters, but is otherwise jam-packed with amazing ideas and grand visions. It is also an example of a grand tradition in science fiction; the mega-disaster story.

The mega-disaster is an unanticipated event that brings devastation on a global (or even interstellar) scale, and the poor humans have to struggle to survive against the impossible odds brought on by nature's cosmic fury. Because when you think about it, the disasters that we're used to--earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, etc--are really just the tip of the iceberg of what a universe as vast and as violent as ours can throw at us. Humanity as a whole is only slowly waking to the cosmos beyond our tiny blue ball, and the horrors those uncaring forces can wreak upon our lives and civilization.

So what follows below is a list of what I think are the neatest and most thought-provoking disasters shown in science fiction. The criteria to qualify as a disaster here is that they have to be either an accident or a natural occurrence; nothing deliberately brought about by intelligent creatures, human or otherwise. So no invasions, wars, superweapons, etc. Also, inclusion here is not necessarily a reflection of a work's quality, good or bad, but just how interesting the disaster presented was. In no particular order, and beware of SPOILERS:

DISASTER: Megaflood
SOURCE: Flood by Stephen Baxter

Our planet has vast quantities of water stored under the crust. Google "Beijing Anomaly" for a real-life example. Baxter's novel contemplates that a major seismic event along the Mid Atlantic ridge unleashes these subterranean oceans upon the surface, resulting in a decades-long flood that threatens to engulf every single parcel of land on earth, no matter how high. The likelihood of this seems rather remote (the water in the Beijing Anomaly is actually saturated into porous rock, and not a consolidated body of water), but it still makes one think.

The characters mostly scurry about during the novel, more spectators to what's happening than trying to take control of their own fate, one way or another. Even though we know what's coming, its still fascinating to read about how human society breaks down bit by bit as the waters get higher and higher. There's the usual disaster tale cliches (the one scientists who has it figured out before anyone else is ignored and derided, monuments shown in various states of destruction, douchebag survivalists, etc) but it doesn't stop one from enjoying the ride.

REALITY CHECK: The novel is pretty realistic as far how humanity as a whole would react to the disaster. For the people at the end things look dim indeed, as this could pretty much serve as the prequel to Waterworld, when you think about it. But there is a ray of hope at the end, which thankfully doesn't involve a mutant Kevin Costner.

DISASTER: Global Blindness/Murderous Plants
SOURCE: Day of the Triffids

I've never read the book, only seen the 1962 movie, so that's what I'm basing my impression on. This is basically what we today would call a Zombie Apocalypse scenario, except ramped up several notches. Like in a typical zombie tale, you have slow-shambling killers that attack in mobs and want to eat you. But here the killers are the alien plants called Triffids, which move about, shoot poisonous spines at any loud sound, then move over your fresh corpse to suck out your vital juices with their roots. But unlike zombies, they have no obvious weak spot. So all those shotguns and assault rifles you've been hoarding for the collapse not only prove pretty useless, but also attract even more Triffids and tell them exactly where you are.

To make matters even worse, the Triffids were brought to Earth by a meteor swarm, whose weird radiation rendered 99% of the world's population permanently blind. In many ways that's even more horrifying that the killer plants. Imagine you, all your neighbors and your family suddenly being unable to see. You try to adjust and survive, but one by one over the course of days everyone around you goes forever silent. And the last thing you ever feel as you call for them is the sharp stab of a poisonous spine...

REALITY CHECK: The meteor-radiation-causing-blindness thing probably seemed more plausible to 1962 audiences than it does today, but something like the Triffids arriving via spores in meteorites is within the realm of possibility (of course, it might be that the spores themselves that caused the blindness, and people just misinterpreted the data in the panic that followed. For the situation itself, things seem very good by the end of the movie for the sighted 1%, as its found the alien plants hate seawater. Which might be good for the people along the coasts, but the people living in, say, Colorado would pretty much just be screwed. And its pretty much implied that the 99% struck blind are so much plant food.

DISASTER: Super Hurricanes
SOURCE: Mother of Storms by John Barnes

A military strike on a terrorist organization accidentally releases a gigantic reservoir of methane trapped under the arctic ocean floor. The methane leads to a quick unprecedented rise in air and ocean temperature worldwide, and before you can say 'global warming' the warmer oceans begin spawning monster hurricanes far in excess of category five. In short order, island nations like Cuba and Ireland are scoured down to bare rock, and civilization is nearly brought to its knees under a non-stop barrage of wind, rain, and storm surges.

The novel was written in 1995, before climate change really began registering on the public radar, but one of the major effects predicted for global warming is that it would make storms more intense. Barnes just takes that idea to its extreme and gets a good disaster tale out of it. He mixes the eco-crisis with a lot of cyberpunkish ideas (the story is set in 2028) and a wide cast of quirky characters, including a serial killer and a cybernetically enhanced porn star.

REALITY CHECK: Though I don't think storms will ever get near as bad as what's depicted in the novel, its not implausible that we could be facing increasingly intense storms as global warming worsens in the coming decades. In the novel, help unexpectedly arrives from a pair of rogue cyber-astronauts. Given the state of manned space travel today, I don't think that's something we could count on in real life.

DISASTER: Micro Black Hole impacts Earth
SOURCE: The Doomsday Effect by Thomas Wren

A remnant of the Big Bang, a microscopic singularity, gets caught in Earth's gravity. It enters a comet-like orbit around the planet's core, sweeping up and through Earth's mantle, crust and atmosphere like they aren't even there on every pass. As it grows in mass, it plows ever-larger swaths through the planet, throwing human civilization into a panic as whole cities are destroyed. It threatens to make the homeworld into swiss cheese before finally devouring it completely.

REALITY CHECK: In the novel, they played a complex game of asteroid-billiards to capture the black hole inside one. I'm not sure we'd be capable of something like that for at least a century. So if this happened before then, we're basically screwed, and the bet we could hope for is to establish colonies in space before Earth is toast.

DISASTER: The Moon blasted out of orbit
Source: Space:1999 TV series (pilot)

In the far flung future year of 1999, an international base on the Moon oversees the stockpiling of thousands of tons of nuclear waste on the far side of the satellite. However, on September 13, 1999, that stockpile of exotic radioactives reach critical mass, resulting in a catastrophically huge explosion that blasts the moon out of orbit and into interstellar space. The fate of the 311 stranded inhabitants of the base are thrown in with the errant satellite as it careens through one star system after another.

REALITY CHECK: Pretty preposterous the way it was presented. The radioactive waste would have had to have been made of pure antimatter to create an explosion big enough to possibly send the Moon out of orbit, and even then it would have been more likely to just be blown apart rather than just move. Some other factor had to have been at work (as I contemplated in an EARLIER BLOG POST.)

Still, if something like this did happen, there would be potentially catastrophic results for Earth. In the short term, tides would disappear and wreck ecological havoc with many species who depend on them. In the long term, the Moon's tidal effects is what keeps Earth's core 'churned up' and active, resulting in the magnetic field that helps to protect life from the worst effects of solar radiation. So without the Moon, over many thousands of years the magnetic field would diminish and threaten many future species.

Also, what of the explosion itself? A nuclear detonation that powerful that close to Earth would produce enough radiation to fry just about anything electronic in orbit and may even screw up a lot of ground-based systems.

DISASTER: Earth collides with a small star
SOURCE: When Worlds Collide

In this classic 1951 film, a 'dim star' named Bellus is found to be on a collision course with Earth, and will hit within one year. An alliance of businessmen and scientists begin constructing a ship that will take a relative handful of survivors to safety, even as panic and disaster grows more intense as doomsday approaches.

REALITY CHECK; I already wrote extensively on what might happen if this scenario were to happen today in a previous blog post. Go HERE to read all the details of that.

DISASTER: Galactic Core Explosion
SOURCE: various "Known Space" stories and novels by Larry Niven

The alien Puppeteers wanted a stunt that would advertise their new hyperdrive, so they hire human pilot Beowulf Schaeffer to pilot it to the center of the galaxy. Schaeffer discovered that the core of the galaxy is exploding from a chain of tightly-packed stars going supernovae, and that the lethal wave of radiation would wash over Known Space, including Earth and the Puppeteer homeworld, in 20,000 years.

The Puppeteers, wily cowards that they are, immediately pull out of Known Space and even begin moving their entire home planet to safety.

REALITY CHECK: We've learned in the decades since that the galactic core can indeed explode aftre a fashion, but from the supermassive black holes there gobbling up large masses of stars all at once, rather than a chain of supernovae. In the stories, humans and other races think the Puppeteers are insane for moving so fast, considering the shockwave of radiation in 20,000 years away and everyone has hyperdives. Of course, the Puppeteers think the humans and the others are insane for not fleeing right away.

Since the galactic core black hole gorges itself every few hundred million years, life on Earth must have withstood the influx of radiation from it before. However, last time it happened, there might have been no significant multicelled organisms, or life on land. How it would affect us today if it happened is largely unknown.

DISASTER: The Sun-Eater Devours the Sun
SOURCE: The Final Night, a 1996 miniseries/crossover event from DC comics

The Sun-Eater is a gigantic multi-dimensional creature the feeds off the energy of stars. It seemed to be non-sentient, a cosmic-scale animal intelligence simply doing what it has to to survive. It will enter a star system, completely envelop the sun, and feed off its thermal energy for up to several weeks. The absorption of so much heat causes the outer layers of the star to collapse then explode outward. The force of the explosion sends the Sun-Eater to the next solar system and its next meal.

Of course, for inhabitants of the planets orbiting the star the Sun-Eater is devouring, this is a lethal proposition. And that's exactly what happens to the DC Comics' Earth. The sun simply turns black one day, and Earth begins to slowly freeze. There's widespread panic and devastation, and the superheroes have their hands full containing it all. Meanwhile, only a handful suspect that the freeze is only a precursor to a much more explosive doomsday that will soon follow.

The Final Night is by far one of my favorite super-hero crossover stories, back when I was reading comics regularly. DC brought in hard science fiction author Larry Niven as an advisor, to create a plausible (in comic book physics terms) scenario for both the Sun-Eater's nature and what would happen to Earth after the sun goes black. The most intriguing part of the story was how the various super-heroes handled the crisis. Though powerhouses on a human scale, even the likes of Superman, Flash, and Green Lantern are reduced to insignificance next to the Sun-Eater's god-like power and indifference. Plus, there was nothing to throw a punch at or outwit; the Sun-Eater was a force of nature far beyond even them. In the more thoughtful installments of the story, even they give over to feelings of despair and helplessness, even as they fight to save whoever they can, even if it is only for a few hours more of life.

REALITY CHECK: The Sun-Eater seems pretty implausible. But then, our universe is immensely old and big, so who know what oddities it might have spawned? In the story, the characters were able to Deus Ex Machina their way out of things at the last minute by appealing to a cosmic-powered peer of the Sun-Eater. If something like the Sun-Eater ever struck in real life, I doubt we'd be able to do the same.

Swimming Pools...On The MOOOOON!

2010-07-17T10:48:00.005-04:00

I was putting together ideas for a new scifi story and one element kind of threw me...how would open water, like say in a swimming pool, act on the Moon? I read up a lot on different science subjects, but I'm no expert on fluid dynamics or low gravity physics. So I posed the question to Reddit's Scifi Board, and got a lot of great responses.

Some interesting conclusions from the responses, summarized here:

-- Without so much gravity pulling on the water, intermolecular attraction plays a bigger role in how the water behaves. For example, surface tension would create a meniscus (basically a broad hump of water) in the middle of the pool. It may be possible to over fill the pool by an inch or so, as the meniscus would 'suck' the excess water into the middle of the pool.

-- When you got out of the water, much more water would cling to you. As one commenter pointed out, it could be a liter worth of the stuff. So just toweling off might not be enough if you bathed or went for a swim--you may need to scrape off the excess water first.

-- Waves would propagate much higher than Earth. You cannonball into a lunar swimming pool, instead of foot-tall waves, you'd create a mini tsunami with maybe 5-6 foot waves. Splash fights could become truly epic. It seems to me that the sides of swimming pools would actually have to be high, sloping, and segmented it order to break up possible high rogue waves and prevent a lot of spillover.

-- The waves and water motion would move slower than they would on Earth, though, seeming to go in slow motion. Just as astronauts hopping on the moon seem to move slowly because they 'float' downward, it would be the same with the water motion because of the lesser gravity.

-- Stunt swimming and diving could also become truly epic,as you'd be able to swim and jump and dive in the water like a dolphin.

Just some interesting stuff to contemplate. Maybe someday our children or grandchildren or great grandchildren will actually see some of this for real, when they vacation on colonies on the Moon...

The REAL Dead-End Energy Technology

2010-07-14T12:10:00.006-04:00

A few weeks ago I was watching a debate on the Newshour on the local PBS station involving alternative energy technologies in the wake of the catastrophic BP spill. They had a proponent of alternative energy technologies, so called 'green' technologies, and a representative championing more oil drilling by oil companies.

I try not to wax political here or on the main site, but the pro-oil company guy was both obnoxious and belligerent, and worst of all, just plain wrong about a lot of points. Especially egregious was his repeatedly calling solar and wind power 'dead end' technologies. His skewed logic relied on the fact was that the basic ideas of solar and wind power were proposed a century or so ago, but their development has only been limited since.

Of course, such thinking is completely spurious, and shows ignorance of how technologies actually develop. Gunpowder, for example, was invented about a thousand years before reliable gunpowder weapons were finally developed. But if one asked a scholar in about 1000 AD if gunpowder was a 'dead end' technology based on what was available then, they'd probably say yes. And be completely wrong.

Most technologies don't explode onto the scene all at once, but rather go through a long period of slow but gradual development, and come to the fore only when there is a clear need for them. Steam engines were around as early as 1698 (or the 1st century AD, depending on your definition), but didn't catch on as a popular technology until 1800s. Rockets took a thousand years to go from fireworks to moon shots. Even the internal combustion engine, the killer app oil needed to become profitable, took decades to evolve into its industrial form.

The past decade, when dependence on the oil economy has led to numerous wasteful wars, environment-destroying oil spills, and a roller coaster of prices at the gas pump, has shown the pressing need for reliable, renewable energy technologies. In fact, if you keep up with the technology news, there has been a veritable explosion of so-called 'green' energy technologies, refinements and breakthroughs both. Solar energy cells dramatically increasing in efficiency and decreasing in price, wind farms and geothermal taps popping up everywhere, wave and tidal power projects grabbing a number of headlines.

Now I like to be realistic, and I realize that the world will be dependent on oil for energy for many decades yet. But ultimately, there is only a limited supply. It may last for a number of decades yet, maybe even into the next century, but it will eventually run out. Oil, not wind or solar or nuclear or tidal or geothermal or alternate fuels, is the REAL dead end energy technology. The sooner we begin switching over to alternatives, the less our economies and power grids and wallets will need to be at the mercy of a very volatile world market in oil.

And ironically, it is the resource-rich oil and energy companies like Exxon and Shell and BP who are in the best position to lead the large-scale conversion to these new technologies, and insure their long-term solubility and profitability in the process. But apparently they only care about short-term numbers and have to resort to tactics like propping up shallow, belligerent shills on news programs to spread misinformation. Its a shame, really.

Review: Rocket Girls

2010-07-01T17:21:00.007-04:00

JAXA (the Japanese Aerospace eXploration Agency) has been in the news a lot lately, with their automated cargo ship to the ISS, their asteroid-sample return mission, and their deployment of the world's first solar sail. It was through talking about JAXA in online forums that I ran across the mention of this 12-episode TV anime series, on which JAXA served as technical advisor and real-life Japanese astronaut Naoko Yamazaki, who flew on STS-131, voices a small animated cameo as herself in episode 7. Rocket Girls is based on a series of light novels by Hosuke Nijiri and is available in english on DVD and for viewing online.

At first, this series seemed like the usual teenage girl action-comedy anime fluff. You know the kind; pilot slick mecha, fight outrageous aliens/demons, crush on teenage boys, something-something girl power. To my pleasant surprise, Rocket Girls turned out to be anything but, and had more in common with Planetes than say, Sky Girls.

The Solomon Space Association (SSA), a consortium of private Japanese companies trying to create a manned launch facility on the Solomon Islands, keeps having catastrophic failures with their large LS-7 rocket. So, in order to make their deadline and keep their funding, they fall back on their smaller but much more reliable LS-5 rocket. The only problem is, that requires their potential astronaut to weigh less than 40 kg, or about 88 pounds.

At the same time, waifish but fiery high school student Yukari Morita is also in the Solomons, trying to track down her deadbeat dad who left 17 years before. Through a comedy of errors, she ends up together with SSA's ever-more-desperate director, who hires her on the spot as an astronaut since she's the perfect size for their new rocket.

Soon a back-up pilot is found among the Solomon natives; Matsuri, who turns out to be Yukari's half-sister (this and the father subplot is quickly resolved in the second episode, so I don't consider this to be a major spoiler.) Half-way through the series, they're joined by a third girl, Akane, a genius science nerd from Yukari's old school.

At first the high-school-girls-in-space premise seemed a little off-putting, but I started watching episodes about the same time that news stories were headlining a 13-year-old climbing Mount Everest and a 16-year-old attempting to sail around the world solo. Then I realized the only thing realistically keeping anyone from launching a teenager into space is someone reckless enough--or desperate enough--to actually entrust them at the top of a multi-million dollar rocket. And as SSA's own director points out, if monkeys can be astronauts, then why couldn't a teen-age girl?

Once past that bit of rationalization, Rocket Girls turned out to be an extremely likable series, mostly comedy but also some moments of real drama, excitement, and even inspiration sprinkled throughout. One can kind of think of it as The Right Stuff populated with high school girls and played as a sitcom.

The series has three strong points. First and foremost are its characters. The three girl-astronauts are the only ones who are really well detailed, but for a 12-episode series, we really can't ask for much more. Yukari, the main character, is bold and brash and abrasve. At first, she resists becoming an astronaut, obsessed with finding her dad and forcing him to come home to Japan, and then with having a few Peter Parker moments where she believes she'd much rather just be a normal high school student rather than embrace this extraordinary thing that's happened to her. In fact, most of the series can really be thought of as her slow growth from petulant high school student to responsible heroine.

Matsuri, Yukari's half sister, starts off as a badly stereotyped generic Native Girl, but she too undergoes growth and maturity as the series progresses. Though mystical and supposedly naive about modern society, she turns out to be the most practical-minded and down-to-earth of the three girls. I only wish she had more to do during the last five episodes or so, as she mostly became the voice of Mission Control.

The third astronaut girl, Akane, was the most surprising, and surprisingly inspirational, character. Looking and often acting so frail that a harsh breath could break her in two, she shows up unexpectedly to fulfill her dream of going into space. Whereas the job of astronaut just kind of fell into Yukari and Matsuri's laps, Akane pursues it with unflinching determination, inspired by Yukari after a (very) unexpected stopover at her old school. Akane gives the series its most Right Stuff moments, as the base doctor puts her through a series of truly grueling physical tests to try to get her to quit. Not out of cruelty, however, at it first seems. The doctor explains that there is no one in space to help you; if something happens, you have to be able to save yourself. In other words, you have to have the 'Right Stuff.' Akane's heroic underdog struggle to join Yukari and Matsuri as an astronaut is probably the series' single best story arc.

The second important element to the series' success is its solid and realistic science. Its not ironclad, mind you, but its very easy to see how JAXA made sure it got most of it right. When it does occasionally veer off on a minor tangent, only space buffs or real engineers will be bound to notice. There's no fantastic mecha or megawapons here. Yukari and the gang fly very basic space capsules barely big enough to fit them, with design features borrowed from Soyuz, Apollo, and the Space shuttle in equal measures. The tech is idealized, ie, what JAXA would love to have when it begins launching its own astronauts for real, but not unrealistic.

One interesting tech note is that the girls wear advanced biosuits (you can find details of that tech idea in the article HERE.) The joke here is that the skin-tight fabric shows of the girls 'attributes' and makes them feel practically naked. But the thing is, what the audience actually sees in the anime hardly looks scandalous at all, and is even more modest than the spandex outfits of say, gymnasts at the Olympics, who usually have millions watching, so the joke kind of falls flat. This is not to say that the series doesn't have some cheesecake shots (this is anime, after all), but they're mostly fleeting and relatively tame.

The third feature that makes this series worth watching is that intangible quality all great science fiction shares, and all the bad science fiction lacks: a true sense of wonder. Rocket Girls is very light on violence, except for occasional comedic effect. There are no monsters or aliens to fight, no constant threat that requires constant kinetic motion. Instead, the series allows its characters to look around and feel just how awesome what they're doing is. Yukari, even in dealing with a major problem on her first mission, is hypnotized for a few moments in naked wonder at seeing the unfettered night sky from space. When she talks about it later, in her phase of trying to be a normal student again, you can hear the unexpected longing in her voice as she describes the experience to the rapt Akane. And the SSA's lead scientists give a short, impassioned speech early in the series about his heartache and dreams about spaceflight that gave me goosebumps. This optimism and inspirational spirit, plus its realistic science, is what made Rocket Girls remind me in small ways of Planetes, which I consider one of the all-time classics of science fiction, of any genre. Rocket Girls never quite achieves the same level of storytelling as that other series, but at times it is clearly cut from the same cloth.

The series's drama comes from two space missions, Yukari's first flight half-way through, and an assist mission to the Space Shuttle Atlantis in the last three episodes. Mishaps and unexpected disasters occur, and the girls are tested in many ways. I actually I found these encounters, with all their nuts-and-bolts grittiness, to be much more compelling to watch than a dozen mecha battles.

Rocket Girls is far from perfect, however. There's some gaffes in logic, and sometimes the plot twists are a little too unbelievable, even if they are played for comedic absurdity at times. Many of the secondary characters are underdeveloped, though we see hints of much deeper characters here and there. And the balance it tries to strike, switching off from comedy to drama to philosophy to action and back again, doesn't always transition smoothly.

However, in the balance, Rocket Girls turned out to be a very pleasant viewing experience. Its safe for most ages (12+), and may even inspire some young budding astronauts, to whom its clearly angled. It is also smart and savvy enough to easily entertain adult science fiction fans as well.

Five Years Of Orbital Vector

2010-06-27T08:27:00.003-04:00

About five years ago last month I launched the Main Orbital Vector site. I had an earlier test site, called the SpecTech database, that was online a year or two before that.

As a budding science fiction writer at the time, I had been frustrated that I couldn't find what I considered a good, detailed, straight-forward database of science fiction or speculative technology ideas. It was easy to find some concepts (like space drives) but not so much others (like futuristic ocean tech.) So, gathering up the plentiful notes I had floating around from research I did for various stories and RPG games, I organized them and decided to put them online for anyone else who may be interested.

The site was slow to catch on, and truthfully its always been a sideline, pretty much a hobby, so I never really publicized it that much. But it eventually got noticed by various like-minded users, and it gained in popularity gradually mostly by word of mouth. Nowadays it averages between 20-30 hits a day, and seems to be on a slow upward trend in user hits.

If you like the site, its probably for one or more of three reasons. One, I've tried to make Orbital Vector mostly about its content, and to make sure that content was useful, interesting to read, and easy to get to. I know I kind of suck as a web designer, so I stuck with a simple design that even an amateur like me could keep up with, and concentrated mostly on the articles.

This is not to say that all my prose has been sparkling, or that my writing is without errors and gaffes. This is like I said a hobby, so this is what I do when I'm too tired or burnt out from other stuff, and sometimes that creeps into the articles here as clunky prose and typos and broken links and such. But the readers thankfully seem to be pretty forgiving of my occasional botched english or coding.

Two, Orbital Vector is also more subtly about optimism for the future, which I know from emails that a number of users really respond to. After all, through all these neat tech concepts and ideas, we're showing just how awesome the future could end up being, and perhaps more importantly, that we'll still be around to enjoy it. There are a lot of dire predictions and attitudes about the future floating around; I wanted to make OV a bit of an oasis from that.

And Three, you just like learning about future technology and may want to use the ideas here for your own stories or games or art or what have you. That's what I originally created the site for, and I'm glad to see people take advantage of that. The articles on OV are written specifically for the layman who may not have a lot of scientific or technical background, but still want enough detail for them to understand how its supposed to work.

I only update OV sporadically, when I get time between other things going on in my life. I try to get 2-3 articles out a months, but sometimes its more, and sometimes its less, just depending on what else may be occupying my time.

Some people ask why I emphasize some technologies but not others. For example, I have an awful lot written on space tech, but very little on medical tech and nothing at all on things like cybernetics.

Mostly, I've tend to write about things I already know quite a bit about already. I read up a lot on new science and technology, but naturally I tend to be interested in certain fields over others. Stuff I haven't read a lot about, like advanced medical tech, requires a lot more time and effort for me to research and write about, so I tend to let that stuff go in favor of things I can produce sooner.

Plus there are some fields that are turning over new tech so fast that its hard to keep up. Electronics, for example. Things that seem futuristic to us now could easily become the next big consumer product in just a few short years. And when a speculative technology becomes commonplace, it doesn't belong on OV anymore. So I kind of have been edging away from electronic and computer speculative tech, as I'd rather not have to write an article that I would just have to remove six months later.

So what's going to happen to OV in the future? More of the same, really. I'll keep adding new articles when I can, filling in gaps in the old sections, adding new ones when I can. There will be some new features though, depending on when I can get around to them:

-- One, I'd still like to convert the site from HTML to CSS. The effort earlier in the year kind of fell through, but that's still on the agenda.

-- Two, i'm going to be adding some donation incentives, and some Orbital Vector swag people can buy. The site makes just enough from ads to pay for its own webhosting, but I'd also like to be compensated, at least at a token level, for the time and effort I put into the site as well. But I will make sure that whatever I offer is quality stuff, so if you do contribute, you'll get something in return that will be worth it.

-- Three, I'm going to be trying to put together some non-fiction books based on the material I've written for the site, so you might see OV in print some day. We'll see how that goes, and if I can find a publisher for it.

-- Four, I'm going to be revamping the Author's Page with a simpler design and new material. That's long overdue.

-- Five, I'm also toying with the idea of adding a Gamer's Page, which would focus on material for science fiction tabletop RPGs like Traveller. I used to game a lot myself, and even wrote a little for gaming magazines, way back when. I know a lot of gamers already use OV for tech ideas, so it seems like a natural extension.

So anyway, thanks for five years of readership and support. Hopefully Orbital Vector will still be here five years form now. See you guys in the future!

MORE Tech Levels Of Science Fiction Groups And Cultures

2010-06-22T20:14:00.017-04:00

This is a follow up to the ORIGINAL ARTICLE put up on the main site two years or so ago, detailing where exactly on the Tech Level scale different scifi civilizations would fit. It was by far the most popular thing ever put on the site, garnering over 100K hits since.

Tech Levels are based on the idea that, looking back, human history can be divided into distinct eras of technological development (stone age, bronze age, iron age, middle ages, etc). The Tech Level scale assigns a number to each of these, and tries to predict which future technological era a new innovation might fall. On the OV scale, there are 10 Historical Tech Levels (stone age = 1, iron age = 2, etc) and 15 Future Tech Levels (10 years from now = 11, 25 years from now = 12, etc.) Tech Level 10 corresponds to modern day Earth. For more details, see the articles on Tech Levels HERE and HERE.

On the OV scale, we look at a future idea or invention, and based on what we already know and are capable in the early 21st century, how long it would take to create that innovation for real. Yes, there are a number of speculative technologies that are in all likelihood impossible (such as FTL travel) but for our purposes here, we ask that if it is possible, how advanced technology in general would have to be in order to invent it.

Different people and properties have very different ideas about the pace of technological progress. For example, in the Star Trek universe, Warp Drive is discovered in the next 50 years or so, at Tech Level 13. But at OV, we assume warping the fabric of space to that degree is much more difficult (if its possible at all, of course), and isn’t doable until at least Tech Level 21. Both views are legitimate; its only a matter of interpretation.

Some caveats to clear up some confusion that arose from the last article (all conditions from the previous article apply as well):

This is a subjective interpretation only and not meant to be authoritative. People can, and should, have their own opinions.

This is not meant to imply the quality of storytelling or production of one particular property over another. This only compares the tech curve created for each scifi property against the tech we have in reality.

I’m sure I’ve left out a bunch of scifi properties still, particularly scifi computer games. I simply haven’t seen/read/played everything yet, and others I may have just plum forgotten about. Apologies.

This is meant purely for FUN. Relax, nerd out a little, and don't be afraid to let us know your own thoughts and opinions.

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Fringe (Alternate Universe)

Tech Level: 12

The alternate universe accessible in the TV series Fringe seems to be 20 or so years ahead of its sister Earth in its mainstream technology, with more advanced electronics, biotechnology, and sophisticated airships. Interdimensional and other weird tech, given the nature of the show, will likely remain in the superscience prototype stage on both Earths.

Planetes

Tech Level: 14

One of anime’s truly great science fiction stories, Planetes takes place in 2075, when the world’s powers have harnessed helium-3 fusion, colonized the Moon, and have built an extensive orbital infrastructure.

WALL-E (WALL-E himself)

Tech Level: 14

A sophisticated and long-enduring AI robot system that evolved to sentience over the course of centuries.

2300 AD

Tech Level: 15

Game Designers’ Workshop’s late, lamented space opera RPG had a very hard science, nuts-and-bolts approach, even more so than its big brother Traveller. (Will be reviewed on this blog soon.)

Cowboy Bebop

Tech Level: 16

The creators of the anime classic Cowboy Bebop played fast and loose with technology in the series, freely mixing space opera tech (like warp gates) with earlier anachronisms (like 20th Century firearms). Still, a sprawling interplanetary civilization, terraformed worlds, advanced AI, and advanced genetic manipulation place it at about level 16.

Battlestar Galactica (New and Classic Series)

Tech Level: 17

Large and sophisticated spacecraft, fusion power, very advanced AI and robotics, place both series, humans and cylons both, squarely into the lower space opera Tech Levels. The main differences in tech between the two series seems to be that the classic series relied on energy weapons and force fields more and had less sophisticated robots, while the new series had less sophisticated weapons and more advanced robots(pictured at top.)

Revelation Space (Humans)

Tech Level: 17-18

The human civilization in this series by Alistair Reynolds seemed to have created a very sophisticated sublight civilization that had colonized a number of nearby star systems before running afoul of the Inhibitors, with the Conjoiner faction being one level ahead of the mainstream civilization. The Hell-Class Cache weapons described in the novels are considered one-time superscience prototypes, and aren’t used for classification here.

Farscape

Tech Level: 18

Though it has interesting takes on a number of technologies, the societies of Farscape seem to fit fairly comfortably into the role of typical space opera civilizations, at level 18.

Wall-E (Axiom)

Tech Level: 18

Ubiquitous force fields, sophisticated anti-gravity, extremely versatile and powerful AI robots, seems to indicate Earth reached an amazing level of sophistication before the Axiom and her passengers abandoned it.

Type I Civilization

Tech Level: 18

In the classic scheme of characterizing advanced civilizations, a Type I civilization is capable of harnessing the energy potential of entire planets. Assuming that this includes taking advantage of every energy source available on a planetary scale, including tapping the planet's molten core, the tidal energy of its oceans, and the planet's magnetic field, this should fit fairly comfortable at Level 18 on the OV scale.

Type II Civilization

Tech Level: 21

A Type II Civilization in the classic scheme of characterizing advanced cultures stipulates harnessing the energy output of entire stars. With the creation of advanced Dyson Spheres, this capability comes at Level 21.

Transformers (Live-Action Movie)

Tech Level: 21

The living, quick-morphing, fast-healing AI robots of the film, along with the technology-altering Allspark energy source, would seem to require at least Tech Level 21 to construct. Interestingly, both factions of robots in the film seemed to have lost the very technological knowledge that was used to create them.

Gateway (The Heechee)

Tech Level: 21

Able to easily manipulate mass and gravity, create ultra-tensile strength materials, and hide out within the event horizons of black holes place the Heechee at about level 21.

The Culture

Tech Level: 22

Iain M. Banks’ far future utopian society is capable of building immense ringworlds (‘orbitals’), using sophisticated antimatter power and AIs, and routinely employs force fields, teleportation, and advanced nanotechnology.

Revelation Space (The Inhibitors)

Tech level: 24

Immensely powerful and advanced femto-machines left over from an eons-old war, they are charged with destroying any civilization in the Galaxy that reaches a certain technological level.

Type III Civilization

Tech Level: 25

A Type III Civilization is capable of harnessing the energy of an entire galaxy. How exactly this could be done is pure conjecture at best, and thus falls at the edge of what we can reasonably project even with the best guesses of speculative technology provided here.

- - -

I'll no doubt do another update like this sometime in the future.

Four Quick Scifi Reviews

2010-06-15T18:42:00.009-04:00

Thanks to the magic of cable TV and the internet, I recently got the chance to see some on-screen works of science fiction I missed the first time around. So here's some quick reviews of stuff most of you probably already saw years ago. Warning, some spoilers ahead.

First up is Mission To Mars. The very first thing I thought of when I finished watching it was: they made the wrong movie.

For those unfamiliar with the plot, Future Don Cheadle (well, okay, his character, but I can only think of him as Don Cheadle) heads the first manned landing on Mars. They discover a mysterious mountain-sized artifact of apparent alien origin. When they investigate, the artifact reacts with lethal results.

Back on Earth, another Mars mission is launched, and after a lot of hokey melodrama, the follow-up mission arrives on Mars a year later. They find Future Don Cheadle still alive, having somehow survived a year in the first mission's makeshift base. Then they all traipse back to the artifact, figure out how to get in, and discover a recording meant for mankind by a dopey looking extraterrestrial.

The movie was okay up until the first team died, then it segued into dumbness and horrible cliches. But you see, hidden in that mess, was the movie they should have made. I'll spell it out: Future Don Cheadle was marooned alone on Mars for a year with a mysterious, murderous alien artifact just over the horizon. Why didn't they make that movie instead?

Can you imagine how awesome that story could have been in the hands of a better director (sorry, De Palma) and much better writers? Can you imagine his struggle for survival on an alien, hostile world, more isolated than any human being has ever been in all of history? Or the dark terrors that man must have suffered through in his crushing loneliness, with the deaths of his friends and teammates weighing on him, and the alien horror that caused it all just an hour's walk away? In the hideous silence of the Martian night, was there really something moving out there, or was it all in his mind? Was any of it ever real, he wonders, as he skirts the edges of madness for months at a time?

It could have been one of those awesomely dark, complex mindf*ck movies, where both the hero and the audience wouldn't quite know what was going on for sure. And Don Cheadle could easily have been up to the acting task. Instead we got some horribly-staged bad-science melodramic crap with Gary Sinise. Argh. Guess we can just chalk this up to one of those great missed opportunities.

And on we move to Bicentennial Man starrig Robin Williams, and based on an original short story by the great Isaac Asimov. Of the works reviewed here, it was the least annoying, but that was mostly because it was so bland.

Robin Williams plays Andrew, an android employed by a wealthy family in the far-flung future year of 2005. When Andrew begins showing signs of sentience, his family helps him become more independent, and Andrew begins a 200-year struggle to be accepted as human.

This film was actually a lot more true to Asimov's original vision than the movie adaption of the all-but-raped I, Robot that came out some years later. There's even some very Asimovian intellectual dialog toward the end, when Andrew pleads his case before the World Council of Smart Guys, or whatever they were supposed to be. But sadly, the film also lacked a lot of Asimov's playful inventiveness, and there was never any real tension or excitement to interest the audience. A for effort, but C for execution.

Okay, I'll admit it, I never saw the blockbuster Transformers movie until it was shown on broadcast TV a few weeks ago.

The robots were damn cool. I've got to give the film creators that. Visually they rocked, and their characters were actually fairly engaging as well. Or maybe it just seemed that way because almost every single human character in the film was so vastly annoying that the robots just seemed much more likable in comparison.

For those of you still more behind the times than me, or perhaps just never watched any cartoons in the last quarter century, in Transformers, two factions of a race of living robots are engaged in a millennia-old war, and that war spills over to an alternate version of Earth populated by good-looking but vapid idiots.

Okay, I'll admit the soldier characters were mostly tolerable. But every time our hero Teenage Goofball was on screen I wanted someone to smash his mouth shut with a sledgehammer. Megan Fox was indeed nice to look at, but that was about it. Goofball's clueless family apparently was created by an algorithm that averaged every sitcom cliche from the past twenty years, and the government types were so incompetent I expected Inspectors Gadget and Clouseau to show up at any minute to take charge.

But did I mention the robots were cool? Megatron especially, I thought this was the single best version of him. He honestly came across as menacing and dangerous. Optimus Prime was also at his best, as noble and heroic--and surprisingly badass-- as one could hope for. If only the film had more of them and less of Goofball and the sitcom brigade...

The anime series Stellvia ran on Japanese TV in 2003, and is available on DVD and for viewing online.

The series starts with a crackerjack premise: For unknown reasons, the star Beta Hydrus, 20 light years away, suddenly goes supernova. Its radiation pulse hits Earth in the year 2167, devastating the planet. Humanity slowly rebuilds, and even expands into the solar system. But in the year 2356, mankind faces its most grim challenge yet: the physical shockwave from the supernova is about to wash over the solar system, and threatens to annihilate everything. To protect the inhabited worlds, a number of immense foundation space stations are created to coordinate defenses; Stellvia is the one above Earth.

The series focuses on a 16-year-old Peruvian girl named Shima, who is recruited to undergo pilot training on Stellvia. Despite a rocky start (she earns the nickname "Shipon," japanese for 'ping pong', after her disastrous first flight) her genius ability with computers and math quickly allow her to become a prodigy as a pilot.

The series started off so well, it was sad to see it slowly but surely degenerate into a batch of banal anime cliches. The series is definitely shojo in flavor (the anime equivalent of a 'chick flick') but was still smart and original enough at first to keep my attention. But despite being 350 years in the future and set in space with the potential extinction of humankind threatening, we're set up with a lot of japanese high school drama cliches spread out among video-game-like space sequences. All of the secondary characters are forgettable; not necessarily badly done, just nothing about them stood out or made me care about what happened to them.

Then, half way through the series, the supernova shockwave arrives. The apocalyptic event they'd been building up since the first moments of the series, the Doom of Man, the Great Mission, etc, etc. I had to admit I was expecting an epic struggle and confrontation. But it was over in two episodes, and the big danger was resolved by the most horrible anime cliche of all: a big robot with an even bigger gun.

I stopped watching after that, with 13 episodes still to go. It was just too disappointing. Like Mission to Mars, there was a much better story buried in that material, if only someone had bothered to try and dig it out. Oh well. Maybe someday I'll go back and watch the rest, but after the way they handled their biggest and most important storyline, I'm afraid it would be just more disappointment.

But Stellvia did also have a cool opening theme, though.

IKAROS Unfurls Its Solar Sail

2010-06-10T12:32:00.007-04:00

The Japanese probe IKAROS (Interplanetary Kite-craft Accelerated by Radiation Of the Sun) has apparently successfully deployed its solar sail, the first of its kind to actually be used in space. For details, see the articles on MSNBC's Cosmic Blog and Popular Science's website. For details on the exact workings of the craft, go to the IKAROS Project Page on the JAXA website.

You have to give JAXA (The Japanese Space Agency) a lot of credit. A few short years ago they were definitely a second-stringer as far as space capabilities go. But they began building up many of their capabilities, with probes to the Moon and a nearby asteroid and an ISS cargo ship. And now they've done something no one else ever has--successfully deployed a solar sail, something that previously only existed in the realm of science fiction.

In an age when most space agencies are either cutting back (like the US) or just trying to reinvent the wheel in order to catch up to the front runners (like China), its inspiring to see somebody actually try to forge ahead into new territory. I've always been a bit dubious about the long term practicality of solar sails in space exploration, but I'd be glad to be proven wrong if it turns out to be the case. No matter what, solar sails are just damned neat.

It will be a few weeks yet until anyone will be able to tell if the solar sail is working properly (with a light sail, momentum builds up very, very slowly over time, so its changes in momentum will be very hard to detect at first.) But here's hoping for the best.

Also, for people in the US, pay close attention. This is the kind of cool stuff that can happen when a national space agency isn't constantly having to reinvent itself every time a new president is elected (a problem going back practically to Nixon's administration), and long-term projects are allowed to actually come to fruition.

In the meantime, however, go Japan!

Hidden Treasures Of Science Fiction: Traveller!

2010-06-06T15:10:00.008-04:00

Popular science fiction works tend to fall into two broad camps: Those that focus mostly on exploration stories, such as in Star Trek's various incarnations, which deal with venturing into the unknown. Then there are battle stories championed by Star Wars and its many imitators, which deal with conflicts and wars, either overt or covert, fought between various factions in a fantastic setting.

But there is a third, less often seen type of science fiction adventure, which the Traveller tabletop RPG champions so well: the scifi road trip.

Like most freeform tabletop RPGs, Traveller can encompass almost any type of story or activity within its setting. It all depends on tastes of the GM and players. But the game is set up almost always the same kind of overall structure: the player characters travel around in small, often beat-up starships, visiting planets within a gigantic interstellar civilization called the Imperium, with no nobler intention than earning a living and just seeing the sights.

They may be merchants, trying to stay one step ahead of the mortgage on their 30-year old merhcant trader. They may be enjoying retirement cruising around in one of the scout service's old surplus starships. They be ex-military bouncing from one mercenary contract to another. They may be scoundrels or refugees or agents fleeing their past. But no matter how you slice it, Traveller campaigns tend to feel like the far future equivalent of setting off on an open highway with a whole continent ahead of you. But instead of a beat-up chevrolet and untold miles of asphalt, you have a worn-down scout/courier starship and the thirty thousand star systems of Charted Space.

Traveller is definitely a working man's, middle-class, vision of science fiction. There is great emphasis in the game on just making a living, including an elaborate system on working out trade and money-making cargoes, and the like. Granted, the characters make a living in what to us seems a very exotic way, hopping from star system to star system, but they need not engage in anything loftier than the pursuit of the Imperial credit if they don't want to. The characters are also not great movers and shakers, and probably won't be determining the destiny of the galaxy. And they most likely won't be going anywhere that hasn't already been charted and explored at least cursorily by someone else. But its new to them and what happens along the way is important to the people that they meet. Like any good road trip, its about the experience and personal discovery, and that's what has always helped to make Traveller such a rewarding RPG to play.

The game has gone through many different revisions and updates since its introduction in 1977 by Game Designers' Workshop (GDW.) The original incarnation of the game, what's now called "classic" Traveller, ruled for the first ten years. It was set in the 57th century, when explored space was dominated by the 11,000-world Third Imperium and its surrounding states. In 1987 GDW updated both the game mechanics and the background, called MegaTraveller as the Imperium shattered into more than a dozen warring states after the assassination of the Emperor. In the early 90s, GDW introduced a new update, Traveller: The New Era, which took place seventy years later as interstellar civilization tried to recover from the apocalyptic war that ultimately resulted from the shattering of the Third Imperium.

Unfortunately, GDW suffered the fate of many game companies of that time as the RPG market imploded. The license was picked up by STEVE JACKSON GAMES and was released as GURPS Traveller, which took place in an 'alternate' timeline where the Third Imperium never disintegrated. The games' original designers tried to reboot the game on their own, with a version called Traveller 4 or more simply T4. There has also been a D20 version.

Today, Traveller lives on at MONGOOSE PUBLISHING and is backed by many of its original creators. The game's historical clock has been set back to the beginning year of Classic Traveller, with the future of its fictional universe wide open. Steve Jackson Games also continues to support its own version of the game.

One aspect of Traveller's game mechanics I always really enjoyed was its character creation. It was way ahead of its time in creating nuanced, interesting player characters, when most other games had PCs who were mostly collections of basic stats and an alignment.

InTraveller you don't just create a character, you create a career for him or her. After rolling base attributes, you 'enroll' him in a chosen job--soldier, starman, merchant, etc. Then you work the character through year by year, gaining skills, rank, and benefits. The more years your character goes through before mustering out, the more skilled he will be, but the older he will be as well, and may be subject to the dreaded aging rolls, that could decrease strength or endurance or such. Thus, most characters don't enter the game as snot-nosed young punks, but people in their thirties or forties (sometimes older) with a lot of life experience and stories already behind them that the GM and player can draw upon for inspiration in the game.

Another very cool aspect of the game, at least for a techno-nerd like me, is its vehicle and starship design systems. Its changed somewhat from version to version, but allows one to create almost any kind of customized, detailed vehicle for use within a campaign. One can design anything from a basic gas-powered motorcycle up through a 500,000-ton interstellar battleship. Many a fan website of the game is overflowing with such original designs.

The game's setting is one of the most highly detailed ever created, either for a science fiction setting or an RPG universe. In fact, in the late 80s, it purportedly surpassed both Star Trek and Star Wars in terms of sheer amount of written material created for it (of course in the years since both those franchises have catapulted ahead again.) Just check out the TRAVELLER WIKI to get a taste for its expansive universe.

The Third Imperium is a very wide and diverse place to explore, with a very classic space-opera feel to it. Humans and human variants dominate explored space, thanks to a mysterious race of 'Ancients' who trasported prehistoric humans from Earth to dozens of different worlds to use as slave labor (a plot point also used by the Stargate franchise years later.) In fact, two of these 'other' human races beat us Earthers into interstellar space by thousands of years.

There are also major non-human races, such as the Aslan, the Hivers, and the K'Kree; and hundreds of 'minor' races who never achieved interstellar flight on their own. In fact, one of Traveller's great strengths as far as its background goes is the amazing amount of detail and verisimilitude it gives its alien races. They all come across as believable.

But despite being a classic-type space opera, the game's setting is also very nuts-and-bolts when it comes to its technological details. The idea of detailed Tech Levels on OV originated with Traveller (but it also has been borrowed by many others as well since), and the Imperium is made up of a huge diversity of planets at different Tech Levels, from Rennaissance-level worlds, to those equivalent to modern day Earth, to worlds with Star Wars level tech or better. Each world is allowed to develop on its own and tend to its own affairs, as long as it pays at least token tribute to the Imperium. This technological diversity, along with the huge variations in physical conditions and culture and inhabitants, creates an amazing array of possible worlds that player characters can visit, pretty much ensuring that their interstellar road trip never need be boring.

Of course, not every aspect of the game is rave-worthy. Some compromises had to be made in order to keep it accessible to the average, non-science-savvy player. For example, the Imperium and its neighbors inhabit very three-dimensional space, but all the game's star systems are mapped out on two-dimensional hex grids. I also never really liked the game's use of psionics; when I ran a Traveller campaign years ago, it turned out to be the single most unbalancing element of it.

But even so, if you have a gaming group and are getting tired of endlessly bonking orcs and hoarding gold pieces, you may want to give the interstellar adventure of Traveller a try. Its well worth the time to seek out its source material, both old and new.

Betelgeuse Will Kill Us All!!!!

2010-06-02T07:58:00.005-04:00

There's some wild rumors going on around the internet that the red supergiant star Betelgeuse, some 640 light years away, may be getting ready to go supernova. (Or, to put it more accurately, the star may have already blown over half a millennium ago and the light from the event may be about to reach us.)

The claim is inspired by some wild speculation going around on some blogs, taking note of the fact that Betelgeuse has seemed to shrink about 15% since 1993, Also, the star might have taken on asymmetrical characteristics, ie, its no longer round to Earth observers; a massive plume may have blown off of its surface, or the contraction may be speedier in some areas than other, or one of its giant convection cells may have collapsed, or some such.

But its enough for some people to cry supernova, and for even more people who can't quite comprehend how immensely far away 640 light years is to start the doomsday talk. Now, granted, if Betelgeuse did blow, it wouldn't just be a once-in-a-lifetime event--it would be a once-in-human-history event. We would have one hell of a spectacular light show in the night sky for many months. The supernova would shine more brightly than a full moon for many weeks, and slowly fade into a small, but slowly expanding, visible nebula.

There's a lot we don't know. We really don't have too much insight into the details of how red supergiant stars work up close; for all we know the contraction may be part of a natural centuries-long cycle. Its a HUGE star, its circumference is greater than the orbit of Jupiter. But that means its outer photosphere is very cool and tenuous, and could be easily perturbed by forces within or without of the star. heck, for all we know, one of Betelgeuse's surviving outer planets may just be plowing through the outer edges of the star, causing the asymmetrical plume like a water wake.

Like most stars, Betelgeuse is very active, and we simply don't know what may be going on. Just because we it do something new doesn't mean a nova is imminent (or was imminent 640 years ago--aw, you know what I mean.)

But even so, we're so far away that the radiation pulse from the initial explosion won't harm anything, though it could conceivable cause some interference in satellite signals. A gamma ray burst could happen if it went supernova, but those happen along the axis of its rotational poles, and we're in the wrong position for those to touch us. And any physical shockwave would be long since dissipated in the hundreds of thousands of years it would take to get here.

No, I think on the very off-chance that Betelgeuse may detonate, the real danger to us would be new brand of crazy it would spark among many people whose sanity was already questionable. You know the type, the people who see any minor event in the world as a sign of the end times, or that the prophet is about to return, or some such. All they'd need is an actual 'sign' in the heavens to trigger all sorts of new delusions.

But anyway, don't give too much credit to the rumors that Betelgeuse may go supernova soon--unless it beats the odds and actually happens, of course. And certainly don't believe any doomsday predictions associated with it.

When Worlds Collide Unlimited

2010-05-22T13:22:00.003-04:00

When Worlds Collide was always one of my favorite classic science fiction movies. For its time, it was surprisingly hard science. Even today, allowing for its more primitive special effects, one would be hard pressed to find a real gaffe in the science as known at the time it was made, or in the realism of the scenario presented. I won't lie either. When I first saw the film when I was 10, it scared the heck out of me. I basically spent the entire night after watching it lying awake and worrying if Earth was still going to be there in the morning.

In the movie, a dim star named Bellus is found to be on a collision course with Earth. With barely a year before impact and facing skepticism from all sides, a group of indusrtialists and scientists begin frantic construction of an experimental rocket ship that could carry at least some human survivors to Zyra, one of Bellus' planets that could possibly sustain life. Altruism and selfish survival tug back and forth at the crew building the rocket ark, as they all try to battle the most most implaccable foe of all--the inexorable countdown to doomsday.

There's a remake scheduled for 2012. We'll see how that goes when it comes out, but given the quality of most remakes lately, I don't hold out much hope for it.

Even so, I always wondered: what would happen if the world today were to face the same kind of scenario? This entry explores a bit of what I think might happen.

The modern world of 2010 has a number of advantages that 1951 Earth didn't. For example, our astronomical observation abilities are far more advanced, and there's a lot more eyes (both pro and amateur astronomers) turned toward deep space. A 'dim star' like Bellus would probably be detected a lot earlier. So for my little pretend scenario here, I give Earth at least 5 years to prepare for the impact, instead of the one in the movie, though the lead time might easily be much longer than that.

Also, Bellus would likely be what we today call a Brown Dwarf. It radiates heat (infrared radiation) but very little light, and would likely first be detected through an infrared telescope. So though dimly lit, it is possible for Zyra to be friendly to life, if its at the right distance from Bellus. It also makes it possible for the Bellus to escape detection earlier, especially if it was moving particular fast with regard to our own star system.

Second, space travel is no longer a fanciful notion as it was in 1951. With our current capabilities, we can't go very far or very fast, but we already have a great deal of experience with both constructing and launching spacecraft.

I don't think it would be a matter of IF we could get survivors to Zyra, but how many and by what method. And how many crazies would stand in the way.

With five years to prepare and enact a plan, how smoothly would that go? In the movie, there were a number of skeptics who kept the governments from doing anything substantial at first. In the modern world, that would happen as well. There would be a huge amount of resistance to doing anything at first--look at the prevalence of global warming deniers who took one bad winter as 'proof' that climate change wasn't real. Or all those who denied that the housing bubble would collapse until it crashed the global economy. Many people just seem to refuse to buy into any prediction of bad news, no matter the amount or quality of evidence presented to them. These would inevitably include some people in power, who would gum up the works as best they could.

But there would also be those who would fully believe from the start that Doomsday would be coming, and would kill anyone who would try to prevent it. Mostly these would be religious extremists and doomsday cults, such as the Hutaree that were in the news recently. They would see the coming collision as the Rapture and would actively fight anyone who would try to thwart what they would see as God's will.

However, I don't think either faction would win the day, and with evidence mounting, governments and corporations and most other major organizations with power will begin making preparations. Very likely, the major world powers would cooperate as much as practical, as coordinating efforts and resources would assure the greatest chance of any individual nation's efforts succeeding.

So what could we specifically do?

Deflection of Bellus is completely impossible without at least Star Trek-level technology. Its just too big and massive. Hitting it with all the world's nukes combined would be like trying to move an aircraft carrier by throwing a firecracker on its deck.

So like in the movie, the best bet would try to get as many survivors, along with equipment, food, medicine, crops, and animals, to Zyra as it passes.

One way of doing that I read about on some forums like Reddit: using a Nuclear Launch Cannon (NLC), the details of which can be found HERE. Under normal circumstances, the environmental and political controversy such cannons would create would likely prevent them from ever being used. However, with Doomsday quickly on the way, I think the major powers would agree that such things no longer mattered, and would begin using them as soon as they could be manufactured. And with thousands of nuclear weapons still readily available, they wouldn't lack for propulsion charges.

The NLCs could put many thousands of tons of habitats, ships, supplies, and equipment into orbit and Zyra-intersecting trajectories. So unlike the movie, there will be more than one or a handful of ships to make it to Zyra. The survivors will have plenty of tools and equipment to help them.

But even if NLCs aren't used for some reason, there's still a lot one could do with conventional rockets for hauling up cargo. Both the US and the USSR developed heavy-lifter rockets in the 1960s within a handful of years, and Russia still maintains theirs. Since its already a known and well-used technology today, it would probably take less than two years for most of the major industrial powers to re-gear themselves to produce heavy-lifters in quantity, if they were really motivated to do so.

Among the equipment provided would probably also dropships. Just getting the survivors into orbit and having them make the interplanetary crossing would be a tremendous feat, and having less mass to consume fuel would help greatly. So part of the plan may be to have the survivors dock with drophips in Zyra orbit, which will ferry them on their final leg of their journey.

Getting the people up there would be a more complicated matter. NLCs would kill any living thing launched from them; the G forces would just be too great. So it would depend on conventional rocket technology to get them into orbit and transfer them to Zyra.

Thing is, how many would that be? In the movie, the characters had to wait until the last possible moment before the collision to launch, to conserve as much fuel as possible. I really don't think anyone in a modern day scenario would risk that if they didn't have to. The unmanned cargo vessels could be launch early and take trajectories that may encompass months or years to get to Zyra as it approached. The manned vessels would be more problematic.

We already have one long-endurance space habitat available: the ISS. Take a year to kitbash it with better rad shielding and maneuvering thrusters. Put a full crew on board (maybe up to a dozen people total, if they don't mind being crammed in together for months) jam it full of supplies, and clamp an engine onto its main docking collar. with this heavy-duty rocket motor, let it slowly make its way out of orbit and into place so it can be picked up by Zyra's gravity well when the planet makes its closest approach. Then have it dock with one or more dropships so the crew can land on their new home. This could be done months ahead of the collision, and the crew could already be (relatively) safe on the ground when Earth meets its doom.

The surviving space shuttles could maybe be used similarly. Taken out of mothballs, they would be launched with heavy-duty habitats filling their cargo bays, so they too could maybe carry up to a dozen people each. These habitats would have large docking collars attached, and separate booster stages would be launched to connect up with them in orbit. Using these booster engines the shuttles could also slowly make their way into an intersecting orbit with Zyra as it passes by. They too would dock up with dropships (no runways on the new world for the shuttle itself to land) for the final journey to their new land.

Small space capsules such as the Soyuz probably wouldn't be used to make the transition on their own, at least not in quantity. However, they could used as the dropships that actually land on Zyra, as they're a proven, rugged technology that would fit the task well.

All of this is with existing space tech. Given the five year window a number of true 'space arks' will be built specifically to carry crews to Zyra, just as they were in the movie. These probably wouldn't use too much very innovative technologies or designs, as the builders wouldn't want to take any unnecessary risks with such precious cargo. We're basically talking big metal cans here, with just enough life support, supplies, and rad protection to last for the transition flight. How many people they could handle would depend on the design, but probably wouldn't be any bigger than an ISS module (or a train of them linked up in orbit) attached to a rocket motor. Let's say 10 people or so per can, maybe 30-50 per train.

And if the building countries are smart, it wouldn't just be living human beings they'd send. Frozen zygotes, or sperm and ova, would likely be sent as well, taken from a host of volunteers left behind on poor, doomed Earth. It would be hard to guess just how many actual survivors could make it to Zyra alive and healthy. Maybe a few hundred if everything went reasonably well, but given Murphy's Law and the extremes of what they may be trying to do, it might be considerably less. So the survivors would be facing a major long-range problem with a limited gene pool and the dangers of inbreeding. Banks containing hundred or thousands of frozen zygotes could help to mitigate that problem by giving the seed population on Zyra access to a much greater genetic diversity than they would otherwise have.

A final alternative to ensure that at least something of human heritage survives would be to take DNA samples from thousands of volunteers and launch them into space on small probes, hopefully into orbits that would take them far away from disaster and preserve their cargo for as long as possible. This would be in the hope that the survivors on Zyra would flourish and, in the fullness of centuries or millennia, find these DNA repositories and use them to resurrect a good portion of the human race, at least at a genetic level. For countries that do not have a lot of high-tech resources, this may be the only option open to them.

The last two options may be important to help mitigate panic on Earth as the disaster approaches, as many people could be assured that at least something of themselves would last beyond the celestial impact. But only somewhat. I think that life on Earth would continue pretty much as normal, more or less, until Bellus showed up visibly in the sky and Zyra passed close enough to make its gravitational effects felt. Once people have clear, unambiguous evidence of their inevitable doom, all hell would break loose all over the planet. While I do think many would do their best to hold things together and to help their neighbors regardless of how little time they had, I think many more would take the opportunity for revenge for any wrong they may have suffered in the past, real or imagined.

It wouldn't be limited to just individuals, either. Wars would break out in every hotspot on the globe. The Middle East, the Balkans, and the Korean Penninsula would become bloodbaths--possibly radioactive ones--overnight. Religious Doomer cults would swell to unprecedented numbers, and they would vent their fanatical fervor on anyone who opposed their doctrine. Many mobs, not knowing what else to do as panic and fear swells, would just lash at anything near them. Hundreds of cities around the globe would likely burn in the last weeks leading up to doomsday.

And all this panic would also threaten the space efforts to send survivors to Zyra, which would have to wait until the last few weeks for he most fuel-friendly trajectories. Just like in the movie, crazed with seizing on even the dimmest hope for survival, mobs would attack the launch facilities, trying to seize the rockets and get themselves or their families on board. But of course, even if they do win the day, that wouldn't work. The space capsule-arks would only have so much life support capacity, and be able to launch so much weight. Plus, most of the crew would have been trained in how to handle the spacecraft systems and conditions in space, whereas random mob guy and kids wouldn't. So we couldn't have a scene like in the recent movie 2012 where average joe survivor talks his way onto an ark; even if the authorities are sympathetic (which I'm sure many would be), things simply couldn't work that way. Even taking on one additional untrained person could jeopardize the whole thing.

But of course fanatical mobs wouldn't listen to reason, and would try to do their best to tear down or hijack what rockets they could anyway. Probably at least a quarter of the manned launches would probably fail just from this.

But the final days wouldn't be all bad for those left behind. Brown dwarfs like Bellus probably have fairly large and strong magnetic fields, and given its presumed speed, would give rise to amazingly spectacular aurora displays that would fill the sky as it approached Earth and the nearby Sun. The world may be doomed, but at least it would have an amazing light show toward the end.

Earth as it currently is wouldn't hit Bellus directly, either. Tidal forces would likely tear the planet apart as the star got close, and huge chunks of it would spiral in over the course of months and year as Bellus careened again out of the solar system. So what survivors there would be on Zyra could watch their old homeworld be devoured piecemeal over the course of their new lives on their strange new alien home.

I always wondered how I'd spend my last few days before such a doomsday, if it ever happened. Hopefully with some good wine and an even better woman, watching the planet-wide aurora light-show. Of course we'd have a gun or two nearby so we could end things quickly once things got really bad and the planet started ripping itself apart...

Frank Frazetta Passes Away At 82

2010-05-10T17:45:00.002-04:00

Go HERE for the full story at the New York Times' Arts Beat Blog.

Frazetta was one of the true greats--if not THE great--of fantasy and science fiction art. For everyone who's done or admired fantasy art in the past forty years or so, he represented the pinnacle of the craft. I'm sure you've all seen his work at one time or another, they've graced innumerable books and posters and comic books. and album covers. Here's an unofficial site that has scans of many of them:

frankfrazetta.org

If you're an artist, you can't do any better than studying his work and try to understand how he did what he did. His composition, his colors, the incredible fluidity and life he gave his subject matter, were all amazing. He was always one of my personal inspirations as an artist. Its always been a goal of mine to create images at the level he did. i still have a long way to go, but I'm grateful I've had the work of such a master to show me what's eventually possible with my own work.

RIP Mr. Frazetta.

The Thousand Worlds of Humanity

2010-05-05T16:05:00.012-04:00

The future of humanity in space lies in junk.

I've been asked before what I think humanity's ultimate future in space will look like. There are many possibilities, and truthfully, there's only so far into the future that one can make an educated guess. For those of you who frequent the main site, Orbital Vector does attempt to categorize many fantastic, far-future technologies. However, trying to "realistically" predict the nature of space travel and colonization beyond Tech Level 15 (technology circa 100 years from now), considered the highest of the 'hard' science fiction levels, is problematic. Tech Levels 16+ begins contemplating technologies based on science that is as yet still highly speculative, and can't really be included in any attempt at 'realistic' predictions. To be perfectly blunt, we don't know for sure if any technologies beyond Tech Level 15 are actually possible in the real world, so for this entry at least they'll be mostly left out.

So what can we get at Tech Level 15? Actually a great number of technologies that can make profound contributions to the way mankind can utilize the environment of space to benefit itself in scientific, economic, and cultural terms. The most important of these include:

--Advanced nuclear fission power and propulsion
--Fusion power and propulsion
--Antimatter propulsion
--Advanced, long-enduring space habitats
--Advanced computer systems, possibly true AI
--Alternative energy methods
--Widespread industrial production of carbon nanotubes and other advanced materials
--Zero gravity and nanotech manufacturing and fabrication
--Increased human longevity and advanced bioengineering
--Redirection and engineering of small celestial bodies

I think over the next century and beyond, humanity will continue its slow but steady expansion into space. I'm sorry, space fans, but the Apollo era seems to have been the exception, not the rule, to how the world community handles space. Big, frenzied pushes like it, if they ever come again, will likely be rare and short-lived. Rather, if you look at the past four decades since, you can see one by one more nations across the globe setting up their own space programs, more industries becoming involved as more profits from it are realized, and a much greater percentage of the population now believes at least part of our race's ultimate destiny lies beyond the constraints of Mother Earth.

We need to disavow ourselves of a notion that space is a race we need to hurry up and win. Rather, very practically, it is an expansion of our species into a brand new ecological niche, one far, far vaster than any we have encountered before. This is going to be the work of a great many generations, and what we're doing today is just one rung on a very long ladder.

THE most important technologies, despite what some may attest, are not so much those of space propulsion, but rather space habitats. Propulsion is an important field, but even if our wildest dreams about plasma and fusion rockets are realized, people are still going to have to spend long periods in space to get anywhere--months or years or even longer. Future space pioneers are going to need habitats that can readily protect them against vacuum, radiation, and impacts, as well as provide air, water, food, and other essentials for life.

This is where the 'junk' comes in. Asteroids and comets, the junk debris left over from formation of the sun and planets, exist by the billions around the solar system. They present a vast treasure trove of resources. And unlike the larger planets and moons, they can be made mobile.

Despite the ideal envisioned in many scifi sources, I think it actually would be more efficient to build centralized processing nodes (say at certain trojan points throughout the solar system, starting with the Earth-Moon Lagrange points) and move the asteroids to them, rather than send out mining ships hopping from asteroid to asteroid. This wouldn't be a quick process--moving any one asteroid would likely take a number of years--but things could be coordinated for the rocks to reach the processing node or a holding point in a steady stream over the decades.

Each processing node would be able to hold much heavier-duty equipment, more automatons, and more workers than ships sent out into the asteroid wilderness on their own. They would in turn make the mining and processing the space rocks that much faster and efficient.

But there is a point of diminishing returns, economically. After all the profitable materials are removed, what does one do with all the left over husks?

If they're the right shape (or can be molded into one,) size, and composition, you can turn them into the raw shells of space habitats. A number of other sources speculate how one could hollow or modify an asteroid or comet to accommodate a human colony, so we can gloss over that here and assume its doable.

Would there be customers for these shells? I think a great many. Most of this century will concentrate on man-made space stations. However, many will find these to be both expensive and self-limiting, as one still has to fabricate every single component and launch them. With an asteroid, much of the initial digging can be done at the processing node according to a buyer's needs, and the buyer could concentrate more on interiorneeds without having to worry over much about the outer shell. Any such colony would start small, say in one small area of the space rock with a few dozen individuals, and would continue to slowly expand over time as automatons and humans continue to dig and rework the floating mountain. Within a few decades, maybe less, one could have a large O'Neill-style colony that could hold many thousands.

At first, rich nations and more prestigious groups would invest in these new colonies, but over time, prices would lower so that smaller groups and individuals--especially individual families--could buy stakes in them, giving birth to a whole new era of homesteading on the high frontier.

Many of the asteroid colonies would be moved into or near Earth's orbit, in order to facilitate trade and travel between the mother world, the Moon, and all the other colonies as well.

And over centuries, more and more of these colonies would be established. They could end up numbering dozens, hundreds, or even thousands.

And even while asteroid colonies start up, similar exploration, exploitation, and eventual an manned presence would be established on the Moon, Mars, Ceres, and eventually Mercury, the moons of the gas giants, and perhaps even a modified Venus.

So this is how I envision the solar system about three hundred or so years from now, with hundreds of asteroid colonies at the Earth-Moon Lagrange points, at the Earth-Sun Lagrange points, and in their own independent solar orbits nearby. Smaller clusters would be found in orbit about Mars and its Lagrange points, and in the Asteroid Belt. Independent asteroid colonies would dot the solar system here and there, owned by more isolationist interests, with comet colonies eventually dominating the outer system. And a number of these colonies, along with clusters of raw comet bodies to provide consumables, would be flung even farther out, into the Kuiper Belt and the Oort Cloud and beyond, to function as resupply bases or launching points for possible interstellar-bound probes, exploration vessels, and generations ships.

Some people have lamented that the Space Opera future so beloved of scifi fans will likely never come to pass; the universe simply isn't set up that way. In a way, they're right. FTL travel is in all probability impossible, and life-bearing worlds may be incredibly rare among the stars, even more so any with living civilizations similar to our own in development.

But the dream of hopping in a spaceship and visiting one of hundreds or thousands of strange exotic worlds is certainly a possibility. The diference is, instead of going out into the universe and discovring it, we'll build it right here in our home star system. The planets, the moons, the asteroid and comet colonies, will likely be founded by many diverse groups, who will themselves evolve culturally on their own as time goes by. Throw in advanced bioengineering and a willingness to vary the human form for various purposes, the Solar System may indeed by an exciting and amazing place to explore a few centuries hence.

A thousand exotic worlds built on the dreams of ourselves and our descendants lies in our possible future. Its just a matter of how much we want it.

Review: Avatar

2010-05-02T11:17:00.005-04:00

I've finally seen Avatar, after getting it on DVD. Thought I'd do a quick review.

I've watched it twice so far and, surprisingly, it was actually better the second time around. I think that it was because I was able to take in a lot of the little details that passed me by the first time. The story IS cliched, as much a retread of a classic story arc as Star Wars was (the 'Stranger in a Strange Land' motif, ie, hero travels to far off land, befriends the natives, has adventures and becomes a great hero--see also Dances with Wolves, Lawrence of Arabia, Ferngully, etc, etc), but just like with Star Wars, the cliched plot path didn't prevent the story from transcending its expectations.

I did not see the movie on a movie screen in 3D, I saw it on a standard TV screen, so I was able to enjoy the story without being overwhelmed by the special effects. Not that I still couldn't appreciate them, but they weren't the main attraction for me in watching the story.

All that being said, Avatar is an important scifi milestone. Pandora easily is the most fully-realized alien world in on-screen science fiction. Kudos to Cameron and his crew for such amazing attention to detail in creating the alien biosphere of Pandora.

The technology of the Earthers was also created with an eye toward realism. The mecha looked less anime-streamlined and much more like what such a system would look like if made in the real world. I especially like the shots of the starship, complete with glowing-hot radiators on the twin nuclear engines and the translucent icy impact shield on its bow. Gave me goosebumps.

For those of you who frequent the Orbital Vector main site, you might be interested that I'd classify the Humans' technology in the movie at about Tech Level 15, maybe edging toward 16. Some anomalies, though--firearms should have been much more advanced, for example.

An interesting thing I was contemplating the second time through is that I don't think the Pandoran biosphere naturally evolved. There seems to be tantalizing hints (particularly the big floating mountains, the huge apparently invulnerable arches around the Tree of Souls, the presence of super-conducting Unobtanium, plus some other stuff) that the world may actually be built on the ruins of a much older more advanced civilization, maybe even post-Singularity. For whatever reason the inhabitants may have decided to abandon technology and bio-engineer a nature-centric utopia for themselves.

I did think Cameron was a bit too hard on humanity, but then its apparent he was trying to drive home certain points. Despite what some conservative critics may have said about the film, I don't see it as anti-American or anti-military, as some have said. Rather, like most films of its type, its meant as a cautionary tale, showing us the dangers of a what could happen if we let certain forces in our society run out of control. (Ie, no 'green' left on Earth, and humanity apparently run by out-of-control, amoral corporations.)

There are some exceptions, of course. Cameron apparently could not resist taking a few digs at past US administration, but they are few and fleeting.

I don't think every human soldier and worker on Pandora would have gone along with the destruction of Na'vi except for a few scientists and the Hot Aircraft Pilot. I think a lot more would have protested and tried to block Colonel Bad Guy and Corporate Douchebag. But I also realize the film could only get so complicated and long, so the creators had to simplify things a bit with this.

The Na'vi in a way also had to be streamlined in a certain way for the same reason. In order to work, the movie needed to portray the aliens as actual sympathetic characters. However, making them too inhuman, as realistic aliens would be, would take too much time and work that it would distract too much from the story, which was making for a long movie to begin with. Most other scifi films and TV series run into this problem. Because of limited time to tell stories, creators have to choose: should the aliens be human-like, and be characters the audience can relate to, or should they be realistically inhuman, and result in them being puzzling enigmas? Here, Cameron obviously chose the former path, and though it is kind of stretching believability that the Na'vi would look and act so human having evolved on a completely alien world, for the purpose of a two+ hour movie it works well enough.

As I said, the plot as a whole was pretty familiar. Since I myself kind of came up with something similar with part 1 of The Shattered Sky (see the sidebar for links), I can attest Cameron did NOT 'rip off' the story as some people say. Its just seems that when you have certain story elements, certain plots and characters follow naturally for drama's sake. But even if events were in the broad term predictable to anyone who's seen this type of story before, it was in the details that the story become very enjoyable, and at times even surprising.

All in all, it was well worth seeing, and definitely a science fiction movie milestone, mostly for its stunning world-building and satisfying if unsurprising story. Looking forward to the eventual sequel and seeing if I'm right about Pandora being a post-technological society.

Cold Comfort: Antarctic Research Stations

2010-04-26T21:15:00.003-04:00

Check out THIS very cool photo article from WIRED (warning: a six-page slide show) showing detailed photos and stats of cutting-edge research bases in Antarctica.

These bases are fascinating in and of themselves, but if you're into writing science fiction or scifi RPGs, these are probably the closest in real life you're going to come to the kind of bases we may eventually establish on other worlds and moons and (maybe someday) in other star systems. A number of space agencies have been involved with the designing of antarctic bases for decades now, and view them as good real-world tests for not only technologies but in seeing how crews adapt and interact with each other over long periods of isolated deployment together. The latter could come in very useful on future long term voyages to nearby planets and asteroids.

Constellation Given A Reprieve

2010-04-14T14:07:00.005-04:00

The Constellation program has apparently been given at least a partial reprieve by President Obama. See the full story HERE in an article from spaceref.com.

Good news indeed that the administration has decided not to let US manned space program languish entirely in the hands of private business. Not that I don't believe that a number of private firms will eventually be up to the task, but for the time being they're still a largely unproven commodity. It really is best that NASA and the US government keep pushing forward with manned space flight for the time being, and give private enterprise time to prove their worth before we shift anything major over to them.

((And sorry about lack of updates lately, life has a habit of getting in the way of such things. Hopefully soon I'll be able to contribute a lot more than I have.))

Its Coming Right For Us!

2010-03-19T17:44:00.007-04:00

It turns out that a small red-orange star called Gliese 710, currently some 69 light years away, is on a collision course with the Solar System. But before anyone panics, it won't actually collide with the Sun or any major planets, and will in fact just clip the outer edge of the Sun's Oort Cloud. And all this won't happen for another 1.5 million years or so. Check out the the full article form NEW SCIENTIST.

The brushing of the Oort Cloud is actually pretty significant. For those who may not be up on such things, the Oort Cloud is an extremely disperse 'cloud' of cometary material left over from the formation of the Solar System. It extends roughly from the outer edge of the Kuiper Belt (where we find planet-sized iceballs such as Pluto, Sedna, and Eris) at some 50 AUs out to up to two light years away from the Sun.

Such a massive object passing so close to the cloud would disturb the orbits of a great many of the comets drifting out that way, inevitably send some veering toward the inner Solar System--and Earth. So its very possible that Gliese 710 could precipitate one or more extinction events during its cosmic flyby.

But an interesting possibility no one has mentioned yet is that even while Gliese 710 mucks up the Sun's Oort cloud, the Sun will also muck up Gliese 710's Oort Cloud in turn (assuming it has one, of course. From what we understand of star/solar system formation, it should have one, but we don't know for sure). In fact, chances are the Sun, being more massive and with a more powerful gravitational influence, would likely end up drawing off more comets from Gliese's Cloud than vice-versa.

This raises an interesting possibility. Other such near-misses must have happened in the past, and each time the Sun would have drawn off comets form other stars' Oort clouds. We tend to think of all the debris like asteroids and comets in our Solar System as left over junk from the formation of the sun and planets, but what if a significant percentage of it has actually been 'stolen' from other stars during near misses? It might give a boost to panspermia theories, which theorize that life on Earth originated from space and was seeded by ancient comet impacts.

Of course we can't know for sure until there's an extensive survey of the chemical composition of various comets, and that's at least decades away. But its something to think about.

Comet Ghosts Haunting Earth Orbit

2010-03-06T09:50:00.007-05:00

A new type of asteroid, or at least a type that's been poorly studied before because of their difficulty to spot-- has been detected in orbits that cross Earth's own. Go HERE for the full article from New Scientist.

Basically, the scientists are guessing that these may to be the remnant cores of dead comets, having long since used up all the ice and other volatiles that made up their visible tails. They reflect less than 5%-10% of the light that strikes them. However, because they absorb so much more, they are able to be spotted much more easily in the infrared spectrum, such as in the photo above (image courtesy of NASA, btw.)

I think its a very cool discovery, considering they're like comet 'ghosts' haunting the space near Earth. As long as none of them hit us, of course.

600 Million Tons Of Lunar Ice

2010-03-02T15:03:00.005-05:00

Recent data analysis from India's Chandrayaan-1 probe has confirmed the presence of water ice in craters near the Moon's poles. The full article can be found HERE on NASA's main website.

If their estimation techniques are correct, the scientists estimate there being at least 600 million metric tons of water ice in the lunar polar region. That is of course spectacularly good news for future bases, and further into the future, colonies, on Earth's natural satellite. That much ice, combined with careful recycling and management, could both provides water, oxygen, and rocket fuel for manned endeavors there for many decades.

And of course, ironically, this comes on the heels of the Obama administration killing off any prospect for returning to the Moon in the short term. We can now see much more clearly how feasible a long-term manned presence on the Moon can be, only to have the prospect of establishing such an outpost pushed out of our reach to at least until the mid-2020s. Its not that the other projects the new administration want to pursue aren't worth doing, but actually opening up a brand new world to humanity would seem to be the better choice of a long range goal, in my opinion.

Oh well. One thing I should suggest to NASA (not that i think anyone there will actually read this): as long as you're underwriting various private space endeavors and X-prize like contests, how about underwriting a sample-return mission for the lunar ice? We can learn definitively what's in it and probably how it was formed. plus the mission may just help to scout out a possible future manned landing site...

Marionette (Fantasy Short Fiction) Part 1

2010-02-13T18:04:00.003-05:00

For a change of pace, here is a fantasy short story set in Italy in late 1800s. Its a bit long, so I've split it up into two separate posts; this is part one. Beliefs expressed by some characters do not necessarily reflect my own, but they do make for a good story.

This was originally done as a fiction commission for Phil Velasquez in 2007, who likes quality transformation stories. Though some editors have said nice things about it, its length has prevented it from being published professionally.

Illustration done by wonderful MagicWhiteLady. Check out her art and photos!

- - -

Marionette Part 1

By Paul Lucas and Philip Velasquez

Little Julia tugged on Patricia's skirt. "Are you sure that man will be okay, Nanna?"

Patricia led her six-year-old charge by the hand, nodding. White marble pillars lined the hallway, arched windows on one side spilling in bright morning sunlight on one side. "My magic will make sure he just sleeps in his chair until we're done here, sweetness. No need to worry about him."

Julia giggled. Patricia kept telling her charge that she was a real live witch, but Julia was pretty sure Patricia was just playing a game. "Who was he?"

"Justinio Alsace, the apprentice of the man who once owned this villa. It will be his later today, after the will is read. A very nice man, from what I've been told."

They entered a lush bedroom, its luxurious furniture and draperies framing an expansive four-poster bed. Propped up on pillows was the prettiest doll little Julia had ever seen. The toy had a beautifully chiseled face, smoother than Julia had ever seen polished wood, with rich brown hair, rosy cheeks, and a frilly blue dress. "What is that, Nanna?" she asked with no small amount of envy.

Patricia smiled thinly. "Her name is Helen, sweety. Be nice to her. Someone she loved very much...went away only a few days ago." Patricia sat down next to the marionette, smoothing out the puppet's long hair as she smiled understandingly at the wooden figure. "Yes, Helen, I know I don't look any older. Not only do I age more slowly, I also walk backwards. Didn't I mention that to you way back when? I am younger now than the me you knew in 1870."

Julia climbed up on the bed, looking into the doll's eyes. Nanna Patricia sometimes played this game when no other adults were nearby, talking to things that didn't talk back. Julia then saw all the doll's many joints and hinges, and realized it was a marionette. She clapped her hands in delight. She loved puppet shows. "Hi Helen!" she told the puppet, wanting to join the game.

Patricia's eyes gleamed. "Helen says hello, and says that you're a very pretty little girl."

Julia giggled and turned bright red, hiding abashed behind her hands. She whispered to Patricia, "so there's really someone in there?"

The dark haired witch nodded. "That's right. Now hush. Helen and I have a lot to talk about, including what happened to make her this way. Apparently from the letter I sent myself from thirty years ago, it's quite a story."

Nanna Patricia listened to the marionette's silent voice. Julia became impatient, so Patricia relayed the story to the young girl.

- - -

Helen Mauvant fell back hard onto the cobblestone street, a dusty bootprint stamped into her yellow blouse. She yelled up at the carriage. "You're taking all our money!"

"All MY money." Georgio sneered. "Next time, you should read your contract more carefully. Good-day, Miss Mauvant." With a snap of the driver's reins, the coach sped off down the street.

Helen stood and dusted off her clothes, trying to ignore the haughty glares of passers-by. She looked around at Naples, a pig sty of a city as far as she was concerned. She longed to return home to cleaner, saner Normandy in the north of France, but things were not so simple. True, she had stashed away a few paper bills in her stockings Georgio hadn't known about, but it would barely be enough to buy meals for a few days.

This was not how she had envisioned a career as an actress as a little girl.
The problem was that she had never really bloomed physically. She retained the short, boyish figure she'd had as a teen. Her chest was modest, her face blandly round, and her hair always turned dry and scraggly if she let it grow too long. It became increasingly apparent as her youth gave way to her twenties that she would never be even close to the voluptuous beauties who always took center stage in every play and production she had been a part of.

Because she wasn't curvaceous enough to play female leads, she often ended up with minor roles like page boy or chamber maid or old crone. Forever at the edge of the limelight, but never actually in it.

She returned to the peasant theater only to find she and the rest of her former troupe locked out, their property confiscated to pay Georgio's debts. She paced the theater district for an hour afterward, fuming at her own stupidity.

She eventually found herself before an old run-down theater at the very end of the thoroughfare hosting a puppet show. The tattered banner declared the honor of hosting Master Leone's Worlds Of Wonder Puppet Theater. She knew she should be tending to more practical matters, but found that more than anything she needed something to lift her spirits. She gladly paid the few coins for admission.

Helen sat in the front row, skirts gathered close to avoid the running feet of the dozens of playing children in the space just in front of the stage. She wanted to observe the puppeteers' tricks of stagecraft, but her expectations were not very high. She had enjoyed such shows as a child, but she could not imagine those rickety wooden characters and their stiff movements could impress her now.

She heard the soft hiss of gas just before the stage lights were lit and the lamps in the rest of the theater were tamped. The children were shushed repeatedly as the show began.

A pair of puppets walked onto the small stage dangling from near-invisible wires, talking and laughing. Helen caught her breath at how magnificently the marionettes were crafted, their features chiseled to near-human perfection, their eyes large and expressive. Their limbs moved with fluid, lifelike grace.
The story was a simple one; a dragon threatened the town, but one maiden gave herself up to the beast to spare everyone else. A young hero dared many perils to save her.

The way the puppet master could turn their heads, made subtle gestures with a nod or a wink or even a turning of one character's shoulder--it made the characters breathtakingly compelling. She found herself giggling like a schoolgirl in awe for the next hour as the tale unfolded.

The entire audience shot to its feet when the curtains closed, whistling, stamping their boots, and throwing coins on the stage. The young actress was on her feet with them, clapping wildly.

A large, swarthy man who could only be the puppet master strode out onto the stage to bow, followed by a female assistant. He was a good ten years older than Helen and by no means unhandsome. He had thick black hair just beginning to show a widow's peak, a pleasantly rounded face accentuated by a thin beard and kindly dark eyes.

The woman he appeared with was also in her thirties, but with stringy dark hair and a frown in place of the puppet master's beaming smile. She possessed the same rounded face and dark eyes as he did, a sure sign they were related.
The crowd began to disperse. The puppet master retreated backstage while the woman stayed behind to direct the stagehands in cleaning up. Timidly, Helen approached them.

"What?" the older woman snapped.

"Oh!" Helen said, startled. "I was wondering if I could, um, talk to the puppet master."

The woman rolled her eyes. "My brother doesn't have time for gutter trash like you. Go moon over some manure shoveler. Its the best you'll ever do." The stagehands sniggered as Helen felt her cheeks flush hot.

"Angeline!" came a hard-edged voice from off stage. The puppet master strode out, a half-disassembled marionette in one hand. "There is no reason to treat her like that!"

Angeline crossed her arms. "No reason! Another moon-eyed harlot comes to throw herself at my marginally talented brother..."

"I am not a harlot!" Helen said, stamping her foot. "I am an actress, and I only wished to express my admiration for a fellow craftsman of the stage! Why as recently as this morning I was in the employ of Master Castiglione's Traveling Acting Troupe!"

The puppet master tipped his head back and laughed. "Castiglione? Georgio Castiglione? That thieving rat! I'm surprised he hasn't stolen your money and skipped town!"

Helen sucked her lip. "He, um, kind of did that this afternoon. I tried to stop him, but..." She opened her shawl and showed him the still-visible bootprint on her blouse.

"You poor creature!" he exclaimed. "I am being rude, madam actress. Allow me a proper introduction. I am Alberto Pius Leone." He bowed lightly.

She smiled into his warm eyes. "Helen Mauvant. I am very pleased to meet you, Master Leone."

Angeline mouthed a silent mocking copy of Helen's words. Her brother shot her a disapproving glance. "And this is Angeline, my younger sister and assistant."

"Assistant? I do all the real work around here!"

Alberto ignored her. "So, I might guess from your accent that you are from France, yes? What brings you so far from home, Miss Mauvant?"

Helen sighed. "A desire to make something of myself, but that seems to have come to naught. Right now all I wish to do is to return home, but finding a way to pay for passage north may prove troublesome."

Alberto grinned broadly. He coughed again, longer and louder, but a quick swig from a flask in his vest pocket calmed it. "To France? We plan on working our way there eventually. We are a travelling troupe. Come with us."

"What!" both women exclaimed simultaneously.

"Why not, Angeline? Miss Mauvant is no stranger to the stage, and you are always saying we need more permanent help besides Justinio. We can help her, and she can help us."

Angeline sniffed indignantly. "I know what you want to help yourself to, you satyr..." She dragged her brother off to the side of the stage, where they argued heatedly for many minutes in heavily-accented Sicilian that Helen couldn't follow.

"They will not find out! I am not like that!" Alberto protested loudly. He stalked back to Helen. "I am sorry about that, Miss Mauvant. If you still wish to join us, you are welcome.

Helen found herself beaming at the puppet master. "Thank you so much, Master Leone!"

Angeline just crossed her arms and harrumphed.

- - -

The next night, Helen watched Alberto work from backstage. She was especially fascinated at his long fingers dancing with intricate precision over the crossbars and wires for hours at a time. He truly deserved the title of master at his little-appreciated craft. She also had to suppress a wistful sigh, wondering what such skilled fingers could do to a woman...

The puppet master had to take swigs of medicine occasionally during the show to keep a mild asthmatic cough under control. His sister and the hired hands worked mostly at moving the props around, setting the scenery, and working secondary characters. Angeline also provided the voice of the heroine, often shouting out lines while hauling a painted backdrop from one place to another.
The other stagehands were both young men. One was a local, but the other, Justinio, was a Sicilian boy who like Helen was working through a passage north. That first night, Helen ended up sleeping alongside Justinio in Alberto's broad covered wagon in the back alley. She only had to bop him on the head twice so she could get some sleep without worrying about wandering hands.

Helen left Naples with the puppet master's troupe the day after. Justinio drove the wagon, leaving Helen with Alberto and Angeline in the cramped interior for the five hour journey. Alberto reviewed with Helen what was expected of her during the show.

At the small town of Alba, they found lodging in a modest hotel and got permission from the owner to set up just outside. Alberto and Angeline seemed unusually tense the first few hours in the town, looking over their shoulders every now and then as if in fear of being watched.

That night, Helen only missed one cue for moving scenery, which brought a few titters from the audience but thankfully it didn't seem to take much away from the spell of Alberto's performance. When Angeline complained afterward, Alberto dismissed it. "She only missed one cue. Much better than most of the hired help we've had."

Angeline grumped. "Perhaps."

"See? I think in the future we should hire more real actors rather than any well-muscled pretty boy who happens to catch your eye."

Angeline angrily stalked away, calling her brother a dirty-minded satyr. Alberto winked jovially at the french girl. "She thinks I don't know what goes on between her and the stagehands we hire. But come, help me rehearse."

They ran through that night's story of a witch falling in love with a clueless townsboy. Alberto admitted he got the idea from something that happened in his hometown of Catani in eastern Sicily, with a very pretty witch by the name of Patricia.

Helen smirked. "And were you the boy in your tale?"

He laughed. "Perhaps. But it was long ago."

Alberto sent the pretty witch puppet on a graceful ballet-like pirouette. A far cry from the ugly hag that populated most witch stories, this one had long dark tresses and delicately chiseled cheeks. "So what happened?" Helen asked.

"I was a young man, learning woodworking from my poppa. One day just after I came of age I met Patricia, a bit older than I am now, but still very pleasantly curved. She just came right up to me as I whittled at the latest of my puppets and made it clear, with quite a stunning smile, that she wanted to seduce me. What young man would say no to that?"

Helen laughed as Alberto played out the small scene with the witch marionette kissing the boy puppet. "But things didn't work out?"

He heaved a great sigh. "I'm afraid not. As she left on our last night together she announced I would never see her again. Tearfully, I asked her why. She only said that she was not the one I was ultimately destined to love. She knew because she walked backwards, whatever that meant. She was gone the next morning."

Helen lay a gentle hand on his muscular arm. "I am sorry, Alberto."

He patted her hand and smiled. "As I said, it was long ago. Come, do you want to learn how to handle a puppet?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, I couldn't!"

He gestured for her to come closer, holding out the crossbar for his witch puppet. "Do not worry. There is nothing to it. Here, take this..."

She tried a few clumsy movements with the character. Alberto gave her encouragement along with softly-worded instructions. Soon he was close behind her, almost touching, his hand over hers as he helped to guide her movements.

The young actress was well aware that the puppet master did not have to be in such a position to teach her, but she did not mind at all. She liked very much how he seemed to contour so well against her.

Afterward, Alberto fished around in one of his wooden trunks and blew dust off an old female puppet. He handed it to Helen. "Here is one to practice with, it is yours. She was my heroine before. Sadly, she wore out from overuse."

Helen's eyes opened wide as she found herself blushing. "Alberto, I--I couldn't..."

"Please, I want you to have it, and not just because of your pretty eyes. I think the shows need new talent. My sister's lack of enthusiasm is all too apparent sometimes." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Not that we should ever tell her that, of course."

Helen nodded, hugging the old puppet to her. Did he really think she had pretty eyes?

- - -

Angeline slammed her palms down on the small backstage table and splashed a glass of wine in her brother's face. "Dog!"

The puppet master sputtered. Helen and Justinio stopped eating and looked at each other before Helen handed the puppet master a cloth to clean himself.
Angeline stabbed a finger at Alberto. "You are teaching that pet harlot of yours to take my place!"

Helen bristled, but said nothing. "Do not call her that!" Alberto said.

"She deserves worse! I have seen how you two spend hours together, alone, these past weeks!"

True enough, Helen mused, but kissing and cuddling were as intimate as they had become. She was the one who wanted to do more, but Alberto refused to get more involved until he could provide for her better. As if that mattered to her.

Angeline's eyes drilled her brother. "You will replace me! Push away your own sister the way Poppa pushed away Momma!"

"Do not be ridiculous, Angeline! Poppa loved our mother."

"Did he? He squandered a prosperous trade for his foolish gambling! Our family went from well respected to paupers deep in debt! Momma cried herself to sleep in shame so many times!"

"It was not like that!"

"You did not see because you became even more foolish than Poppa! Puppets became your whole life! We should be much farther away from Sicily by now! But no, you have to prance your little dolls around for thrown coins like a vagrant!"

"If you hate all this so much," Helen blurted out, "why do you stay?"

"Alberto is my only family, and his fortune may be pitiful, but as his only surviving kin part of it is still mine! And you are not going to take that away from me, whore!"

Helen growled. "Stop calling me that!"

Angeline planted her fists on her hips and sneered. "Why? We all know the only way a french cow like you ever got to be an actress was by falling on your back and 'acting' with your ankles by your ears!"

That was all it took for Helen to launch herself at the older woman. They both went tumbling, hitting and snarling and kicking. Alberto and Justinio quickly pulled them apart.

"Enough!" the puppet master yelled. "Angeline, of course I'm not going to abandon you."

Angeline harrumphed and smoothed her hair. "She is not worth this. But I will not end up miserable and moneyless like Momma. And I certainly will not get caught by..." She stopped herself from saying anything further, giving Justinio and Helen a stern glance. "No matter what happens between you and...the hired help, you will not cut me off if you are any kind of man."

"Of course not." Alberto spread his hands placatingly. "You are still my little sister."

Angeline said nothing in response.

- - -

When they reached Rome, an old theater-owner friend of Alberto's was so delighted to see the puppet master he kicked out the mediocre jugglers he had booked and signed up Alberto for a few weeks.

After a few nights in Rome, with its much larger audiences, Helen found herself becoming oddly jealous of Alberto's curvaceous, blond-haired female lead, who had different names and costumes depending on that night's story, but who Alberto always referred to as the Heroine. The gathered crowds always acted so enthusiastically toward her, puppet or no.

Once, when she was the last one in the theater sweeping the stage, she playfully pretended she was the Heroine. She raised her arms as if they were on strings, and moved and danced as the lead marionette had done earlier in the evening. To be admired by so many, to be the lead actress instead of just some incidental character, was all she ever wanted. She ended by giving the imaginary audience a sweeping curtsy, the ghost-crowd of her imagination cheering and clapping just for her.

Much later, she was rehearsing with Alberto in the early hours of the morning; she was handling a milkmaid character, he a strapping farm hand. Helen had her character lean over and kiss Alberto's.

"That's not in the script," he said, puzzled at first.

Helen giggled, sliding up right next to him, the crossbars in her hands dangerously close to his. His face quickly grew red as her puppet's hands went somewhere very naughty. He swallowed nervously. "Helen, love, y-you are going to tangle the strings."

"That's exactly what I want," she said with a throaty whisper. She set her crossbar down and snuggled next to him. "I think I very much want our wires to tangle together, Alberto Pius Leone. So they never unknot.."

"Helen," he whispered back, his hands sliding instinctively around her. "I...I'm not a man who has enough wealth to..."

She kissed him to cut off his protest. Whenever he opened his mouth she made sure her lips--or some other enticing part of her--were there to keep his protests muffled. After a while, he stopped trying to talk at all.

- - -

They lay together on the scaffolding in a nest of their discarded clothing, Helen's head resting in the crook of Alberto's bare shoulder. His arms and chest were wonderfully well-chiseled, the result of a lifetime of woodworking and puppetry, and felt perfect under her cheek. Alberto snored softly.

Helen was startled by a noise on the scaffold's stair. She looked up and saw Angeline's furious eyes impaling them from over the wooden lip. Then she was gone.

Helen shivered. She had expected Angeline to fly into another rage, but her icy silence seemed infinitely worse.

- - -

Angeline disappeared for the next few days, leaving a terse note not to ask after her. Alberto feared something might have happened to her, but no one could admit to seeing her.

Late one night, with the daily crowds dwindling and Alberto going off to bed mumbling about loading up the wagon again and maybe moving on in another week, Helen found herself alone in the theater again. She segued into her familiar game of imitating the Heroine from that night's performance.

Someone clapped and shouted "brava!" from the shadows when she gave her final puppet-like curtsy.

"Who's there?" she called, startled.

Out of the shadows stepped a tall, handsome woman. Rosy cheeks and long dark hair framed sparkling green eyes. She sat herself on the edge of the stage, looking up at the younger woman. "Just an appreciative patron. May I call you Helen? You look very different from the first time I saw you."

Helen canted her head, confused. "I--I do not believe we've met."

"This is the first time you've met me, but this is the second time I've met you. Though I have seen you...perform...a few times between now and then, from a distance."

Helen looked askew at the woman. "And how is that even possible?"

"I walk backwards," she said simply. "It's the price I pay for magic."

"Magic? Are you supposed to be a witch?"

The woman smiled. "My name is Patricia. I believe that Alberto will know me--will have known me--when he was a young man."

Helen's eyes went wide. "That's impossible! From what he said, that Patricia was as old back then as you seem to be now, maybe even a little older."

"I will be a little older then, at least a little. As I said, I walk backward. As I grow older, the world grows younger."

Helen shook her head. "I don't understand."

"When one chooses a path of magic, a price must always be paid. I chose to walk backward through time for mine, after my favorite character from my favorite novel. I will live many centuries yet, but every morning I wake up is a day later for me and a day earlier for the rest of the world. I was originally born one hundred and thirty years from now, on the cusp of the millennium. Understand?"

"I think I do," she said with an amused smirk. What a fantastic tale! She must tell Alberto, so he could work it into one of his stories. This had to be the original Patricia's daughter, playing a joke on her. "Alberto will be pleased to see you, if you are the real Patricia or just her kin. Come..."

The self-proclaimed witch sadly shook her head. "I won't meet Alberto in this life until he is a young man. Fifteen years ago, yes? No, sweetness, I am here tonight to see you."

"Me? Why?"

"To give you a gift." She reached into a skirt pocket and pulled out a crystalline vial, filled with a bright blue liquid. She handed it to the younger woman.

Helen blinked in surprise. "I--I don't think it would be proper for me to..."

"This just isn't any ordinary potion, Helen. I invested quite a bit of magic in it after I met you for the first time, thirty years from now. It will allow you to transform."

"Transform? Into what?"

"Into what you need to be, when you need to be it most." She smiled, pressing the vial into Helen's slim fingers. "Please, take it. Its very important, and trust me, you'll know when to use it."

Helen looked at Patricia askew. Either the woman was mad, or she was telling the truth. Helen wasn't sure which frightened her more. "Um, very well then. At least let me pay you something for it." She jangled around in her pocket for what few coins she had.

Patricia took the money without even looking at it. "Thank you. I can carry some select items with me as I walk backwards, and these coins will come with me in memory of the gift you gave me when we first met."

Helen looked at the vial of azure liquid, then at the older woman. "What gift could I ever have given you?"

"Hope." The woman slid off the stage and twinkled a warm smile at Helen as a good-bye.

- - -

Alberto returned the next afternoon from the printing shop with a laughing smile. He grabbed Helen up by the waist and spun her around in exuberance.
"You will not believe the news!" he beamed. "His Eminence himself!"

"Alberto!" she said with some force, to get him to put her down. "What are you talking about?"

"I met Archbishop Castrovanni, the Rector of the University of Rome, outside the print shop! He saw me carrying the posters, asked about them. He overheard a few of his students talking about the show, and said he was very curious himself now to see it. My show!"

"That's wonderful!"

"He is coming on Friday, with a number of his fellow professors! Helen, if I can make an archbishop smile or laugh, my reputation may be made!"

That was tomorrow night. Helen hugged the burly puppeteer. "Alberto, I am so happy for you!"

He coughed around a smile. "I want to celebrate, Helen. Let us cancel tonight's show so we can have everything in readiness for tomorrow night early, and then the two of us can go celebrate properly."

Her eyes widened. They'd had many wonderful moments together in the time they had known each other, but they had never actually been on a night out together. "But the money you will lose..."

He waved a hand dismissively. "We can make that up some other time. I want to be in good spirits for the show tomorrow. And what better way to lift my heart than to spend tonight with you?"

- - -

They walked back to the peasant theater arm in arm later that night, dressed in what fine clothes they had. They debated casually if the play they had just seen, a cute fantasy of mixed-up couples in a faerie-filled forest, was as clever in its original english as it had been in translated Italian. A large, fancy carriage was parked nearby, a driver smoking a pipe to pass the time. Helen was about to comment when three burly men stepped out of the shadows of the alley that led to the back of their theater.

The strangers were all well-dressed, shirts of fine cloth and silky top hats adorning their dark-haired heads. The leader of them, a tall, wiry rail of a man, stepped in front of Helen and the puppet master. "You're Anthony Sorce," he said to Alberto.

Alberto's voice stuttered. "I--I'm afraid not, sir. My name is Alberto Pius Leo..." The stranger slammed his fist into the puppeteer's stomach.

Helen screamed as Alberto crumpled to the ground. She knelt by him as the man was flanked by his compatriots, towering over the pair menacingly.

"Your name," the tall man said, "is Anthony Sorce. Your family owes mine quite a large sum of money. We were told by our cousins a couple of years ago to be on the lookout for you. I'm surprised that you actually showed up here."

Alberto hugged his gut as Helen tried to help him back to his feet. The wheezing of his asthma crept into his voice. "But--but how?"

A familiar female figure stepped forward from the alley. "I told them," Angeline said proudly.

Alberto looked at his sister, unbelieving. "Angeline...but why? How could you do this?"

"My name is Daniella, not Angeline! And perhaps you should not have cast aside your family to be with that french whore!"

"But I did not..." The tall man slammed his fist across the puppet master's jaw, then again into Alberto's stomach. Alberto again crashed to the ground.

"Stop!" Helen yelled. "He's sick, he can't fight you! Please, just leave us alone!"

The man tilted his hat at her. "My name is Ernesto Frederick Boca, of the Boca Family Trading Company. I trust you have heard of us?"

Helen nodded blankly. The Bocas were among the most powerful and influential merchant families in Italy. They were also rumored to be among the most ruthless, with ties to the Camorra.

Boca clasped his hands casually behind his back while Helen wiped blood from Alberto's lips. "Your man's father borrowed quite a bit of money from our cousins in Sicily. Unfortunately, the elder Sorce died before he could pay any of it back. But my family is very proprietary about what is ours. If the parents cannot pay, then their children should be forced to make restitution."

"You can't!" Helen protested. "There are laws!"

Boca spread his hands generously. Boca's two companions moved up and shoved Helen away from Alberto, hauling him up by either arm. "Do you see a constable here, miss? Do you think there is any court in Rome that my family could not persuade to see things in our light? But I'll allow you to leave, if you want. This does not concern you."

"Please, don't hurt him. Please!" Her eyes darted about. She could run, maybe get away. But that would only leave Alberto at Boca's complete mercy. She looked down, face bright red, tears brimming. "I'll do anything you want. My--my body, anything. We can work out some kind of deal..."

"Helen, no!" Alberto wheezed.

Angeline sneered. "I always knew she was a whore..."

Boca spun and slammed Angeline across the jaw with his open hand. She staggered back a few steps, nursing a bleeding lip. She looked at Boca, stricken.

The tall man readjusted his canted top hat as he regarded the Sicilian woman. "She offers herself to be raped to save her man. You betrayed your only brother because he slept with a girl you didn't like. I swore not to hurt you for leading us to your kin, but if you continue to insult your betters I will not restrain myself. Understand?"

Angeline nodded submissively, but spared Helen a glance that burned with pure hatred. Boca turned back toward Helen. "Now miss, your offer is tempting. But I've bedded martyrs before, and quite frankly its like plowing a saint's grave. So I'm going to decline. Frederick!"

One of Boca's burly companions disengaged from the puppet master. "Yes, Mr. Boca?"

"Escort the young woman here to a decent hotel for the night. Make sure she doesn't leave until morning. I'm not so cruel as to let her watch what we're about to do."

Helen struggled desperately against Frederick's iron-hard grip on her slender arm. "I'm not leaving Alberto! You can't! Don't hurt him!"

"Helen, please!" Alberto urged in a small voice. "Go while you can!"

"We won't kill him," Boca said, popping his knuckles one by one. "But we have to make sure people understand the consequences of going against our family. Look for him in debtor's prison."

Frederick dragged her away. All her wild struggling and screaming proved futile. She was pulled out of sight just as Boca raised his cane high over the helpless puppet master. The staccato cracks of wood on flesh echoed far down the street.

Go HERE for Part 2 of Marionette.

Marionette (Fantasy Short Fiction) Part 2

2010-02-13T17:08:00.005-05:00

For a change of pace, here is a fantasy short story set in Italy in late 1800s. Its a bit long, so I've split it up into two separate posts; this is part two. Beliefs expressed by some characters do not necessarily reflect my own, but they do make for a good story.

This was originally done as a fiction commission for Phil Velasquez in 2007, who likes quality transformation stories. Though some editors have said nice things about it, its length has prevented it from being published professionally.

Illustration done by wonderful MagicWhiteLady. Check out her art and photos!

Go HERE for Part 1 of Marionette.

- - -

Marionette Part 2

By Paul Lucas and Phil Velasquez

Two days later, Archbishop Castrovanni turned out to be much shorter than Helen had expected. He was almost her size, with snowy hair and a generous paunch from a legendary fondness for sacramental wine. He was dressed simply in common black robes and a collar as he walked beside her. "They torched his wagon?"

Helen tried to keep the nervous treble out of her voice, looking about at the vault-like stone seminary that held the ecclesiastical faculty of the university. Priests had always intimidated her. "Yes, your Eminence, it was horrible. When I went back the next morning, there were only cinders left. They'd tossed everything into it, every last one of his characters and props."

"And how was the puppet master?"

She wiped away flowing tears. "He--he was not much better when I finally was let in to see him in prison this morning. He was so badly bruised, and his cough had gotten so much worse. Oh, your Eminence, they sentenced him to work overseas as an indentured servant! A physical laborer! With his sickness, he'll die from it!"

The archbishop patted her on the shoulder. "Miss Mauvant, I don't know what to say."

"Just thank you so much for seeing me. I know you are a busy man..."

"Normally, I wouldn't meet with just anyone on such short notice. But I was told yesterday to expect you by a mutual...acquaintance, let's call her. She said it was very important that I listen to you."

"What? How is that possible?" Helen had come straight from the debtor's prison to the archbishop's office at the university. She herself hadn't even known that she was coming here until an hour before, a spur of the moment decision borne out of desperation. No one could have told the bishop about her yesterday.

Unless... "Patricia?" Helen asked.

Castrovanni nodded, inviting Helen to join him on a broad cushioned bench under a high steepled window. "That's her. I'm surprised, she does not reveal her name to many."

"I only met her once. I must admit I was very confused by it. But I am also surprised that someone of your standing in the Church would associate with someone who claims, um, to have such an unusual background."

He grinned. "You mean a 'witch?' The Church does not believe that every extraordinary thing in the world is the result of direct actions of the Infernal or the Divine. There is much more to God's vast Creation than that. And knowing Patricia as well as I do, I would find it very difficult to believe that she has evil intentions, no matter what she calls herself."

Helen thought of the vial of liquid still in her breast pocket. If the archbishop believed Patricia might be what she claimed, then the potion she now had could very well do what the witch had said it would. Transform her into what she needed most...

Helen explained more of Alberto's plight. Castrovanni frowned deeply, pulling at his soft chin. "Well, I do not know what I can do about this, Miss. It would be very unseemly for the Church to interfere with the secular courts without good cause. And Alberto does owe a legitimate debt."

"But he will die as a hard laborer, your eminence! He is simply too weak, and his cough makes him too sick! There must be something that can be done."

He sighed. "There is something else that stays my hand, Miss Mauvant. Something Patricia said about you."

"What could that possibly be?"

"Patricia has already lived through the days that have yet to come for us. I have known her for a long while now, and I can tell you this is true. She does not reveal too much of what she knows, and that is a righteous thing, for no man should know too much of his own destiny. But she did mention that you will soon have to make an important choice in order to save the man you love. A choice that may have devastating consequences for you."

She blinked, digesting his words. "What kind of consequences?"

"She would not say."

The french woman drew herself up, fighting down a momentary shiver of dread at the archbishop's words. "Well, what comes, comes. We still must help Alberto. He was so certain his career would be assured, once he put on that final show for you."

Castrovanni tilted his head at her thoughtfully. "Final show? Was he under contract at that theater you worked?"

"Yes, your eminence, but the owner is a very kindly man. It was just a formality, and he would never press Alberto to..."

"Perhaps he should, child. Perhaps he should go right to the court, and demand that Master Leone finish his final performance for him before he's shipped away."

"I don't see what..."

"The transgression is an unpaid debt, yes? If your Alberto earns enough money to pay a significant fraction of the debt back, it might be enough to get the magistrate to reconsider his sentence. Especially if I talk to him as well."

Helen brightened, seeing the logic of it. She suddenly hugged the archbishop fiercely in thanks.

"Now I suggest you get going. You have a lot of work to do. And tell the puppet master I am very much looking forward to seeing his show."

- - -

Helen peered out from behind the curtain. The theater was filling steadily and would soon be packed wall to wall. "I cannot believe how many people showed up!" she said with satisfaction. She even saw Archbishop Castrovanni and a few of his fellows from the church, dressed in common priest robes, sitting just a few rows back.

Alberto worked furiously with needles and wires, rigging up his hastily constructed cloth puppets. He sighed. "It will not be enough. They will all be disappointed."

She went over and knelt beside him. The puppets were all cloth sheets, either white or dark gray, made from cut up bedding. It was the best he could do on such short notice. The jail had released him only a few hours before, and the Bocas had used their influence to make sure Helen could not find any puppets to buy or borrow for the show. They were determined to see the puppet master punished. "Don't say that, Alberto. You will do well! When I spread the word that this would be your last performance, everyone wanted to come! You will see, you will earn more money tonight than you ever have!"

He shook his head, taking a swig of his last flask of medicine. It would be just enough to last him through the show. "It won't be enough, Helen. Listen, take the money we earn for yourself. Don't waste it on me. Take it and go home to France, live a good life. Find a man who can take care of you..."

"I already have!"

"Actually, that was good advice, miss," came a voice by the theater's back door. Helen looked up to see Boca and his men. "Except any money he earns tonight belongs to us, every last dinari. Don't forget that.

Alberto set his lip defiantly. "Haven't you done enough here?" The puppet master said.

Boca shrugged. "Actually, you two surprised me, arranging this last show. Even got an archbishop to say something to the magistrate. I half expected you to run for the hills like you did last time."

Alberto set his lips in a hard line. "Running only made things worse, before. I am done with that."

Boca laughed. "Good man. Too bad the rest of your family couldn't learn such character. And we really are interested in seeing the money from this show. This could be our only real pay off from this whole mess."

"Would you rethink the charges against Alberto, if we made enough?"

Boca shook his raven-haired head. "No. He still must be made an example of. And look at that audience, mostly laborers and poor families. You'll see a stage full of coppers at most at the end of the performance. A pittance compared to what he owes us. Sorry, but business is business." He bowed perfunctorily, and left with his men in tow.

Alberto sagged in his seat. He went back to hurriedly rigging up his makeshift puppets, but his hands and lips trembled.

She could tell Alberto was trying hard to be brave for her, but it was too much. He had been badly beaten, he was sick, his life's work lay in a charred ruin, and in a few days he would be sent far away from everything he knew and loved to be worked to death.

His hand slowed, then stopped, his eyes oceans of despair. "I--I can't do this," he said, defeated in body and soul. "If I even had one puppet, one real one...but I don't. This is a sham."

She knelt before him, fingers brushing lightly at his bearded chin. "Alberto, you must. This may be the only way."

He shook his head. "Helen, it would take a miracle. God has abandoned me."

She remember the vial in her breast pocket, still there after all this time. "Alberto, He has not. I can give you a miracle."

He looked at her, uncomprehending. "But what..."

"If I give you a miracle, promise me you will do the show! Promise me you will give the audience the best show you ever have!"

"Helen..."

"If you love me, promise!"

She saw it then, that small spark of hope deep in his eyes, kindled by her passion. "I promise," he whispered.

- - -

The packed crowd grew restless. Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the limelight swung over to center stage. Helen, wrapped in a broad cloak, walked boldly to the circle of light, long wires trailing under her cape.

Alberto had been befuddled when she had asked him to wire her up as he did as a puppet, with extra long wires, but did as she asked. She told him it was needed for his miracle.

She turned to face the audience, the polite applause at her entrance dying down. She smirked. The spotlight to herself at last. It felt as warm as she'd always hoped it would.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to this very special performance of Master Leone's Worlds of Wonder Puppet Theater. We are very grateful you could join us.

"A wise man recently told me that there is more to God's vast creation than we assume. That there are many wonders yet hidden in the world. Some miracles are even at our very fingertips, unknown to us until we reach out to touch them.

"Such miracles are not there to prove God exists, I believe. We already know that He is there from the love and joy in our lives, from our family and friends and the beauty of the world around us. Miracles enough, I would think, for proof of the Divine.

"Rather I think the miraculous--what some people may even call magic--is there to help us learn about who we are. To show us the endless possibilities of our world, and of ourselves.

"So ladies and gentlemen, prepare for a night of wonder, fun--and magic."

She looked up at Alberto, just out of sight of the crowd on his scaffold and behind a low hanging curtain. Her quiet eyes spoke volumes to him. Then she wrapped her cloak tightly about herself, completely covering herself head to foot, and drank down the vial of bitter blue liquid Patricia had given her.

Almost immediately her body was wrapped in a bright azure coruscation, a soft glow emanating outward from every pore on her skin. She knew, beyond any doubt now, that Patricia walked a path of true magic.

She felt warm and flush throughout her body. Her limbs suddenly stiffened and grew harder, unyielding, as enchanted light suffused her entire body. Her form shrank radically as her arms and legs became knobby and loose. She felt herself falling, hearing a loud wooden clatter as she hit the floor. To the crowd and to Alberto, it seemed as if the cloak glowed briefly before fluttering to the ground, empty. Helen could hear their gasps.

The glow faded, replaced by the dim twilight illumination of the stage lights seeping in through small gaps in the cloth. Moments dragged on, endless, as she lay there, inert and unable to move.

Suddenly, her hand jerked up, then the other, followed by her torso and feet. Her body shook, throwing off the cloak. To the gathered throng where Helen stood now dangled a beautifully carved wooden marionette, one easily rivaling that of the puppet master's best characters.

The crowd erupted with a roar of loud approval. Alberto, no doubt confused, was still enough of a professional to recover quickly. Helen twirled like a ballerina and curtsied.

- - -

She could still hear and see everything as she always had, even if she could not move or talk or even blink on her own. Alberto began his show, which starred the transformed Helen and the hastily-made puppets of cut-up sheets. Hanging there by the strings, she felt odd, but also strangely at peace.

The show's story was simple, Alberto making it up as he went along. She, the new Heroine, searched the afterlife for her beloved, taken from her too soon. She met all sorts of odd characters, the raggedy cloth puppets looking very much like ghosts, brought to life through Alberto's rich and varied voice.

After much hardship and amusement, her character at last found the spirit of her beloved. A joyful reunion turned bittersweet, as according to the rules of the Divine she could not stay. But it was also followed by a promise to him that she would remain his and his alone, no matter how long she lived, until she could join him.

Alberto's voice broke in that final speech, followed by a long silence as the lovers hugged for a final time. The play ended, and for many long heartbeats Helen heard only silence. Her heart fell. Had Alberto failed, after all?

But then the applause started, crescendoing into the most thunderous she had ever heard. It went on and on. Alberto had her return to the stage, bowing, and Helen found herself walking on a carpet of coins even as she met a wall of cheers. The archbishop and his retinue were on their feet clapping as loudly as any.

Her heart, such as it was in her new body, burst with joy. She basked in the applause, joyful not just for herself, but for her beloved puppet master as well.

- - -

Alberto held her in his arms backstage after the show, looking into her eyes, very confused and hurt. He drank the last drop of his medicine, barely holding down a sickened cough. "Helen," he whispered, "is that really you in there?"

She couldn't say anything, couldn't even move. She could only dangle in his arms. She had given up so much, she only hoped it would be worth it.

Justinio came up to the Puppet Master, grinning vociferously. "Master Leone! There must be over a thousand dinari on the stage from thrown coins!"

"It won't be near enough," came a soft voice. Alberto turned to see Boca and his usual cadre of men walk up on stage as the last of the crowd was slowly exiting. They were followed by a uniformed constable. "I'm sorry, Master Leone. I admire your effort, though."

Alberto regarded the younger man coldly, sitting Helen down carefully on a trunk so she could still see and hear everything. "So now I'm 'Master Leone'?"

Boca shrugged. "One gives respect where it is due. Your show was very good. But it really doesn't change anything. If it was just about the money, I'd have you do more shows. But its also about giving respect, something your family failed to do when you did not pay your debts." He turned toward the policeman. "Sir, if you would escort him back to prison, as we agreed?"

No! Helen thought. Even after all she had done, it hadn't been enough.

"Stop!" a booming voice called from the back of the theater. The small group of priests had hung back from the rest of the departing crowd. They came up on stage. "Leave Master Leone alone."

Boca blinked at the clergy. "Father, no offense, but I do not think this is something you should get involved in."

"I am Archbishop Castrovanni, Rector of the University of Rome." He brandished his bishop's ring, the symbol of his office.

Boca's eyes popped wide. Without hesitation he kneeled and kissed the proffered ring.

"I am very glad to see you are a loyal son of the church, Mr. Boca."

"Of course your Eminence!" he said. "My family are all good Catholics."

"Good. Then I hope you will accept this." One of the assistant priests pulled a scroll from his robes and handed it to Castrovanni, who in turn handed it to Boca. As the younger man opened the scroll, Castrovanni explained. "This is a writ of credit from the Church, covering the entirety of Master Leone's debt to your family."

Helen cheered silently. Alberto looked stunned. "Your Eminence!"

Boca looked over the document with knitted brows. "I don't understand."

"I am buying off Master Leone's debts. Tomorrow I plan on having a full discussion with the magistrate, to arrange for Master Leone's permanent release." He turned to the puppet master. "Understand this is not charity, sir. If you allow me to do this, you will be employed by the church, earning off your debt. I was most impressed this evening, and I think your puppets would be a wonderful venue for spreading the Word of the Gospel to the common man. I just had to make sure you were as talented as I was told, to justify this expense to my own superiors."

Alberto blinked for a few heartbeats, then laughed in gratitude, bending low to kiss the bishop's ring. "Of course your Eminence! It would be my honor!"

Boca shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not so sure. In fact, my family may want to fight this. He's owed us that money for years."

"Mr. Boca," Castrovanni said quietly. "Am I to understand that this man's punishment is worth so much to you that you would risk taking legal action against the Roman Catholic Church itself? Even if it meant censure for yourself or your family, should things go badly?"

Boca blanched. His family was very influential and widely feared, but the one institution in Italy even they could not hope to openly challenge was the Church. His face contorted into a grimace of frustration, but he knew he was stymied. "Very well, your Eminence. I suppose I have no choice."

Defeated, Boca and his men exited shortly thereafter. The constable stayed behind to talk with the archbishop and the other priests, confident he could leave Alberto in their custody. Castrovanni pulled Alberto aside afterward.
"Your Eminence," Alberto blurted out around a soft cough. "You have no idea how grateful..."

Castrovanni held up his hand. "Don't just thank me. Thank the woman who sacrificed so much for you." He tilted his chin at Helen, still sitting limply on the nearby chest.

Alberto picked up the marionette, looking deep into her painted eyes. Helen tried with all her might, all her being, to say something to her beloved. For a moment, just a brief heartbeat, the puppet master thought he could see the flicker of something familiar stir within the marionette. But when he blinked, it was gone. He turned toward the archbishop. "You mean--this really is her? It wasn't just some kind of sleight of hand? But how?"

"Her words this evening were the truth, Master Leone. There exists many things in this world beyond our ability to easily explain. Perhaps we should just call it a miracle and leave it at that."

"A miracle. That's what she said it would be." Alberto hugged Helen gently to him. "Is there any way to turn her back?"

"I honestly don't know," Castrovanni said. "But take good care of her until we find out. She deserves that, at the very least."

- - -

Acclaim for Alberto's special show spread far, and became the talk of not only the peasant theaters, but all of Rome. A few months later, after he rebuilt his repertoire of puppets and props, he began a new tour of Italy with the Church's blessing, working Christian parables into his stories.

Alberto eventually became the most acclaimed puppeteer in Europe, and was able to retire after many years a rich and comfortable man. He garnered a wide reputation, and had taken on numerous apprentices, including Justinio, before his aging hands could no longer work his characters properly.

One marionette Alberto let none of his apprentices touch, though, was Helen. She was always his special Heroine, and he always took exquisite care of his most prized star. Unlike other puppets, she never seemed to wear at her joints, and her paint never seemed to fade. She remained beautiful and lifelike, his most prized character. Alberto pretended it was from his meticulous care, but truthfully it seemed part of her enchantment.

Alberto certainly did not treat Helen like a puppet either. There were times he had to shut her in a case or ignore her when others were around, but when they were alone he talked to her and held her and hugged her just as he had when she was flesh. She found herself loving him even more as the years wore on, and hoped that their time together could last forever. He never stopped trying to find a way to change her back, but all his efforts proved fruitless.

Until, one warm autumn day in the first year of the Twentieth Century, the great puppet master Alberto Pius Leone passed away quietly in his sleep.

- - -

"That was just three days ago," Patricia said.

"That's sad," Julia said, looking up at Patricia. "But why couldn't you change her back, Nanna? Your magic changed her in the first place."

Patricia shook her head sadly. "Its kind of hard to explain, sweetness. The potions I use do not contain much magic in themselves, but rather only help to unlock the magic within the people who drink it. Every person is kind of like a battery, unknowingly gathering magic about them over their lifetimes. What Helen did, such a radical change, required very powerful magic, and must have used up almost all of Helen's magic over her whole life, past and future."

Julia asked, "So what happens now, Nanna?"

Patricia caressed Helen's wooden cheek. "Well, Helen is very sad without her Alberto, who loved her no matter if she were a woman or a puppet. And she loved him more than she can say for never abandoning her. That is a very special kind of love, very rare in this world."

"Poor Helen," Julia said.

Patricia turned toward the puppet, smiling warmly. "Ah, do not worry though, Helen. There is a reason why I sent myself that letter, why it was so important that I meet you here at this time and place. I cannot change you back, but I can free your spirit from your puppet form, so you can be with Alberto again."

Patricia threw back her midnight hair and chuckled softly. "What makes me think you can be with him again? Because he is standing right next to us." Julia saw her nanny gesture to an empty space beside the bed. "He did not want to move on without you. He would have waited for you as long as needed."

The witch smiled, wiping away where tears would be falling on the wooden figure if Helen had been real. "Now, now, sweetness. Go to him" She leaned forward and kissed the marionette on the forehead.

A chill passed through Julia as...something...happened to the puppet. The marionette did not move or look any different, but Julia could sense something had changed. "What happened, Nanna? Is Helen gone?"

Patricia nodded. "From the puppet, yes. But she's standing next to the bed now, with Alberto. They are hugging and kissing each other in joy. They are like a couple on their wedding day." The witch smiled broadly. "And now they're going...elsewhere. Beginning their true journey together."

Julia clapped. She didn't understand much of what had just happened, but she was glad the girl that had been in the puppet was happy now. Quite suddenly, her Nanna took the little girl up in her arms and hugged her close. The young girl hugged back. "Are you all right, Nanna?"

Patricia smiled as she pulled back from the hug. "My path of magic... at times it can be very hard. I left so much behind, and have seen so much misery in this coming century. But sometimes, just every once in a while, something I do with my magic makes it worthwhile. Gives me hope."

Julia snickered. "You don't really know magic, do you Nanna?"

"You grow up thinking that it was all just stories I made up to amuse a little girl." She handed the marionette to Julia. "You want her? She doesn't belong to anyone anymore."

The little girl beamed and hugged the marionette. "Oh, thank you Nanna! I'll take really good care of her!"

"I already know you will." Patricia tousled Julia's hair. They left the house of the puppet master shortly after, hand in hand and laughing playfully.

Review: The Dragon's Nine Sons by Chris Roberson

2010-02-11T14:32:00.005-05:00

I've decided to start doing book reviews on here, at least those that I think the readers of OV might be interested in. These reviews won't necessarily be timely; I mostly just read books that catch my fancy, rather than going for whatever happens to be the latest release on the shelves.

I'd like to start of with a novel with one of the most original science fiction premises I've seen in quite some time: The Dragon's Nine Sons by Chris Roberson.

The story is a fairly rare breed of novel: alternate history projected into the future. In a world where the European nations never rose to global dominance, Earth is divided between two powers: Imperial China and the Aztec-populated Mexic Dominion. Now, in what another reality would be the year 2052, these two bitter rivals are fighting a war for global dominance that spills out into interplanetary space. Of particular contention is the newly-colonized red planet Fire Star, aka Mars.

The novel’s back story is, as with most alternate history tales, an odd mixture of fascinating details and jarring juxtapositions. Roberson has obviously done very extensive research into his subject matter, and has built up his alternate timeline through a number of previously published stories.

Decades before Christopher Columbus, Imperial China sends ‘treasure fleets’ around the known world, reaching India, the Middle East, and eventually Europe. This results in the establishment of the trade routes the Portuguese and Spanish would have otherwise created a century later. The main difference here is that the vast wealth created by these new global markets flows east instead of west, assuring China’s new prominence in world affairs. Later Treasure fleets even reach the Pacific coast of the Western Continent, called Vinland here, and set up a Khalifate in honor of the expedition’s Muslim captain.

The Chinese also take Leonardo Da Vinci’s advanced designs seriously, allowing them to develop some technologies much earlier than in our timeline, such as flying machines. Combined with their burgeoning trade empire, these new devices soon allow them to dominate the globe.

Oddly, a version of the USA does arise in this world, called the Commonwealth of Vinland, complete with the original 13 english colonies, a revolution in 1776, and the later annexation of Texas. But it, like most of the rest of the globe, is eventually conquered by the imperial Dragon Throne in the late nineteenth century.

To the casual reader, the Empire at first does not sound like an overly pleasant place to live. It is still primarily a feudal monarchy, with many strictures on freedom and behavior we would be find uncomfortable at best, oppressive at worst. A towering bureaucracy dominates most facets of life, especially in the armed forces.

In many ways the Empire is also a romanticized version of old Imperial China, albeit with spaceships and nuclear reactors. The author, through the characters of the novel, shows that its a place where honor and tradition still holds great sway, and many of its citizens are proud of their nation’s glorious imperial past. The children of the Dragon Throne can still give birth to heroism and idealism, even if those heroic values and ideals don’t necessarily reflect the ones we’re used to.

Whatever the Celestial Empire’s failings, however, the novel quickly makes clear that it is a cuddly wuddly panda compared to the Mexic Dominion.

The Dominion is peopled by the descendants of the Aztecs, who in this timeline were never conquered by the Spanish. Because of their position on the globe, they were also among the last powers to come under the scrutiny of the Chinese, allowing them plenty of time to develop near-equal technology and resources of their own.

The problem is that the war-like Mexica still cling very tenaciously to Aztec religion, which makes frequent human sacrifice a central tenet. It has become so incorporated into their culture, in fact, that spaceships and orbital stations cannot even operate unless a live human sacrifice is performed regularly on altars on the bridge, which are equipped with sophisticated hemoglobin sensors to make sure the victims bleed enough to please the gods. Many die in this manner in the Mexic Dominion everyday, and the Dominion’s preferred source of sacrifices are, unsurprisingly, the citizens of its Imperial rival.

In the early twentieth century, the two powers fought a vicious fifteen year long World War that resulted in a victory for the Chinese and well over a hundred years of simmering hatred and resentment for the Dominion. Now, with the colonization and terraformation of Fire Star well underway, a new war has broken out, with space as its main battlefield.

It is in this world that we find our main characters, misfits and scoundrels and criminals all, being recruited and trained for a suicidal mission to destroy a Mexic asteroid base. If they succeed in their mission, they will be pardoned for their crimes. If not, well, no one will miss them anyway.

The novel’s main story derives very obviously from similar great action tales on film such as The Dirty Dozen, The Guns Of Navarone, and even The Magnificent Seven. In lesser hands this might have been a detriment, but the plot is handled deftly, and could even be considered a decent tribute to those movies. But even so, it follows a familiar formula; a small group of misfits and ne’er-do-wells take on an impossible-seeming mission with all odds against them. They all know death likely awaits them, but perhaps a lucky few can find redemption as well.

In fact, the story’s resemblance to those films is so strong that I had a hard time not picturing Yao, the main focus of much of the story, as a Yul Brynner type. Yao is a Bannerman (the Imperial equivalent of a Marine), a commander who asked too many question about why his superiors apparently allowed the Mexica to slaughter thousands of Fire Star colonists while his unit stood helplessly by, under orders not to interfere. He was sentenced to be executed for his insubordination, but was given a reprieve to ride herd on the other misfits assigned to the mission.

Joining him in command is Captain Zhuan, who was disciplined for cowardice for failing follow a suicidal order that would have destroyed his ship and his crew. But his actual reasons were far from noble; he simply was afraid to die. Now, facing a similar choice on this new mission, he wonders if he can find the courage to follow through and regain some semblance of honor.

The rest of the characters fall into various war movie cliches. There’s the immensely strong but dimwitted ‘man mountain,’ the cocky gunfighter, the shifty sneak thief, the practical joker, the lazy slacker, and the pugnacious hothead, all apparently right from the Celestial Empire’s version of Hollywood central casting. Some of them come across as entertaining; others seem a clunky fit for the story. The one breath of fresh air here was Syuxtun, a Muslim whose deep moral convictions had forced him to commit a surprising act of sabotage against his superiors.

Even the more awkward stock characters in and of themselves might not have been such a bad thing if they had not ended up revealing their back stories in such annoying ways. Too many times, the author depends on long, unbroken monologues to tell their stories, often at very in appropriate times dramatically. At one point the ship they’ve stolen from the Mexic is about to have its nuclear core melt-down and one of the crew may have to bleed on the altar to save everybody; so, of course, it’s a perfect time for a five-page segue as a minor character yabbers on about his life story.

Their mission is also complicated by the fact that once they reach the Mexic asteroid base, they find dozens of Imperial citizens held captive, waiting to be sacrificed. Their mission of sabotage suddenly becomes an even more impossible rescue mission, as they try to accomplish one last decent act among all their misdeeds.

Can these nine expendable criminals become the saviors for dozens of trapped innocents? Can they destroy the asteroid base as planned and stop the Dominion attacks on Fire Star? At what cost?

If you’ve seen any of the aforementioned material which was the obvious inspiration for The Dragon’s Nine Sons, you already have a good idea on how things will generally turn out. But novels like these are like amusement park rides; just because you know how its going to end doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the twists and turns along the way. The author’s shortcomings with character exposition are minor compared to how he handles both the action and the often very fascinating details of his alternate world. All in all, an admirable effort and a good read for fans of science fiction and alternate history alike.

The Future In Space Has Just Been Gutted

2010-01-27T18:37:00.005-05:00

Go HERE for the full article in the Orlando Sentinel. basically, the Obama administration has decided to kill ALL aspects of the Constellation program and hand over most if not all manned space operations over to the private sector.

I didn't have too much problem with the current administration refocusing space efforts. Just about every administration for the past 50 years has done the same when they took office. But this isn't just turning it in a different direction, this is clubbing it on the head and dragging the body off for disposal.

This is not a 100% done deal, but without the executive branch's support, which appoints and oversees NASA's administrators, its doubtful NASA can go any way except the way the White House wants, no matter what Congress may decide.

With this decision, the United States ceases to be a nation of explorers. There will still be US citizens who explore, certainly. But as a matter of national will and direction, we have decided to abandon our outposts, anchor our ships, and just huddle by the hearth fire.

I understand there's an ongoing recession, that one out of six Americans are out of work. But space exploration has always been long-term investment, one whose seeds you plant today to reap the rewards decades down the line. No matter how hungry you are, you don't eat your seed corn. We need investments for the future--investments that go beyond shoveling cash to already affluent corporations. We need an investment that we, as a nation as a whole, can believe in and wholly own part of. Our space program was always that. It was OUR space program. The People's space program.

WE launched men into space. WE step foot on the Moon. WE sent probes to the far reaches of the solar system. WE built most of the ISS and assembled it in orbit.

But now its going to be THEY. THAT company, THAT corporation, THAT foreign country who ferries our astronauts into space.

Yes, there are other space agencies and organizations in the world, but even if they're willing, it will be a decade or more before they can catch up to what NASA is capable of...WAS capable of.

I think, when historians decades hence look back, they will mark this as the end of the First Space Age.

Liquid Diamond Seas on Neptune and Uranus

2010-01-18T21:04:00.003-05:00

Scientists theorize that seas of liquid diamond--yes, you read that right, liquid diamond--may exist far beneath the clouds of gas giant planets like Uranus and Neptune. For the full story, check out THIS article from physorg.com.

As I've gotten older, I'm always afraid I'm going to become bitter and jaded. But then I read about something fantastic like this, and I once again feel the stirring of that all-important sense of wonder about the world and universe that we live in. Liquid diamond oceans? Cool!

Under The Dancing Sun (Short Fiction)

2010-01-10T18:15:00.007-05:00

We go from sexy alien babes in the last entry to a hard science fiction tale here, involving a mining disaster on Mercury early in the next century. Originally published in print in Hadrosaur Tales #21, November, 2004. Image (Mercury transiting the Sun) courtesy NASA.

- - -

Under the Dancing Sun
by Paul Lucas

Sure, I used to be a spacehand. So? Shouldn't you be tending bar, kid?

You been talking to Solly? Mentioned our big adventure on Mercury, did he? That old fart never could keep his mouth shut.

Okay, I'll tell you what happened, if you really want. Just keep me in beer until I finish the story.

Deal? All right, then.

It happened when we worked the Dancing Sun. That's the main base on Mercury, run by the Chinese. Funny name, huh? You see, Mercury's got this big elliptical orbit, and its rotation is kind of out of synch with it. Spins something like one and a half times every orbit. So seen from the base at the north pole, the sun does some weird gyrations across the sky. The sun will rise halfway in the local east and just sit on the horizon for a few earth-days, like it isn't sure it wants to go further. Then it rises for a few weeks, shrinking in size at local noon and swelling again as it slowly sinks toward the opposite horizon. It'll set pretty normally, but a few earth-days later it'll come back up to peak over the western horizon, shrunk again, as if checking to make sure everything's okay before it disappears for the duration. Some poet-type called the whole cycle the Dancing Sun, and the name stuck.

Me and Solly hadn't planned on working there. You see, I was born on Earth--not too far from here, as a matter of fact--and left planet as soon as I was out of trade school. I had it all planned back then. Make my way to the Belt, get on a prospector crew, strike it rich, retire in style.

If I could get hold of that cocky kid I was twenty years ago, I'd slap him around this craphole of a bar for being so stupid.

Mining the Rocks--you know, asteroids, that's what we called them--was back-breaking work, and after ten years of sweat, hernias, and broken hearts, I got exactly nowhere. I thought a lot about coming back home, but interplanetary travel's pretty expensive and I was so deep in debt that I couldn't afford the delta-vee back home for the mass of my right pinky, much less the rest of my beer-retaining body.

Then Solly--he and I were on several prospector crews together and got to be pretty good friends--told me that the Chinese were looking for experienced Rockers for their operations on Mercury. Better yet, they would arrange for continuances on any outstanding loans for their new employees.

“Bullshit,” I said.

“Really,” Solly said.

We applied at the local offices of Kuan Yin, China's nationalized space corporation. To our utter amazement we were hired on the spot.

They must have seen us coming an AU away.

We spent nearly half a year in transit, hopping from ore hauler to shepherded Snowball to cycler, basically the cheapest transport Kuan Yin could scrape up that also happened to be heading in the right direction at the time. When we finally hit the Dancing Sun, a sneering middle manager presented us with a bill for our trip and the legal fees necessary for the company to acquire our loans and the accompanying continuances. We would have to work for the next year to pay for it all, plus another six months after that to pay for our life-support and lodging on planet. Only after that could we actually start thinking about making money for ourselves. Apparently we had neglected to read all the micro-fine print in our contracts.

Solly had to pull me off that rat-faced tie-sucker before my strangle-hold popped the eyes out of his head. That earned me another three months indenture for criminal fines.

Ah, don't give me that look, kid. It didn't turn out all that bad. Sure, we were screwed, but it turned out to be a better class of screwed than we had out in the Rocks. The majority of the true corporate butt-munchers at the Dancing Sun confined themselves to the upper levels of the ol' KY Corp. (And yeah, that name gave us a few giggles now and then.) They mostly left us worker-types alone as long as we met our monthly quota and didn't cause any major trouble. Our Rocker experience actually did come in handy because Kuan Yin mostly used Belt Consortium cast-offs for equipment. With over two billion dirt-kissers back home on the Big Blue to feed, they couldn't afford much state-of-the-art.

Anyway, we spent most of the first half-year driving maser digging units around the dark side mines. That was as dull and boring as it sounds. Then we got ourselves assigned to a dayside crawler crew. That wasn't too great an improvement, but we could earn extra hazard pay because of the rads we would take. I put a bottle of baby juice on ice when I left the Big Blue, so what did I care?

We'd made quite a few friends among the nationals, especially after we started picking up Mandarin, even though they never let us forget exactly how smelly and ignorant we Westerners were. One female in particular took a shine to us: Hulan Shaojin. I know there's this stereotype of Chinese women being meek and submissive, but let me tell you Hulan was anything but. She could swear better than Solly and me put together and was into body-building something fierce. She was half a meter shorter than me but nearly tied me in a knot when I tried to get sweet on her. She needed a couple of big burlies for her crawler crew, and she knew Solly and I wouldn't give her too much crap for being a woman, like many of the nationals did.

The fourth crewmember was a Westerner, too. Lyle Brittain. Lyle was born in space, on L-4 I think, but something went wrong with his bone-development therapy when he was younger. He grew up with a brittle skeleton and couldn't tolerate much over half a gee. He always seemed to break some bone or other every third week, despite the protective harness he always wore and the bone-knitter pills he always popped. Everyone called him Crunchy.

Hulan had hired him mostly for his expertise with crawler and telepresence systems. His condition prevented him from doing most of the lug-and-grunt stuff, so he compensated by being a systems whiz.

Rumor had it he got into some major shit with the mobs back on Luna from gambling debts, forcing him to run to a backwater like the Dancing Sun. No one pressed him for the whole story as long as he did his work. Hell, if every worker with a questionable past was turned away, places like the Dancing Sun would be manned by three nuns and a poodle.

Anyway, after a few weeks on dayside duty, we were a thousand or so klicks south of the Dancing Sun when we received an SOS. Like with most broad-band radio traffic near the sun it was pretty garbled with static, but we managed to clean up enough of it to understand that a crawler had been caught in a landslide in map grid 37-B, right next door to where we were.

Hulan bitched up a storm. We were the only ones close enough to get there in less than an Earth-day. We would have to drop our train of harvested ore on the spot so we could make time to the disaster site, and that meant maybe a fine down the road for not meeting our quota if we didn't get back soon enough to retrieve it.

Those ores were a real pain to get, too. Among other things, dayside prospectors collect pools of self-smelting metals you can find in those 800-plus dayside temperatures, like lead, tin, and lithium. Most people think all we do is point a hose and suck it up, but they don't realize that requires walking around in 50 kilos of armored pressure suit to protect you from the rads you take. That's 50 kilos on Mercury. On Earth you couldn't even sit up in one of those titanium-plated monsters.

And I swear, kid, those pools of molten metal had minds of their own. Evil minds. On the twilight edge especially, where they'd just start to cool. They'd get a decent surface tension on them, pick up and outer layer of insulating dust, and then scoot across the low-gravity landscape with the slightest push. We pulled more than a few Three Stooges when a pool we were chasing hit a quirk in the terrain and ended up chasing us.

Anyway, things didn't look too good when we finally spotted the crawler an hour later. It was on its back next to a tall escarpment, half-buried in an avalanche. We figured the crew must have planted a half-charge in the cliff base to get seismographic readings of the formation. Standard procedure for prospecting new territory. If something valuable was found, they'd earmark a claim for deep mining when it rotated around to the dark side. But the escarpment had been alternating between the super-hot temps of the dayside and the super-cold of the night side for millions of years, making it far more brittle than anyone thought. A small tamped charge was all the escarpment needed to shatter and collapse.

I has already suited up for EVA and cycled through the vault-thick airlock doors as soon as we arrived. Billion year old dust crunched underfoot.

As soon as I took a good visual survey I spotted an armored suit like mine lying twenty meters away in the shadow of the escarpment. The upturned crawler wasn't going anywhere, so I decided to check him out first.

I shuffled along the base of the cliff, trying to stay in its narrow ribbon of shadow. The fewer rads, the better. When I reached the figure, I had a hell of a time flipping him and his armored suit over even in the one-third gravity. A patch on his helmet identified him as Wu Hsiang. His faceplate was cracked on its innermost layer, a small stream of blood trickling from a heavy bruise on his forehead. His head must have whipped forward into his faceplate, probably when he was knocked to the ground by the avalanche.

I checked his suit readout and grimaced. He was alive and in pretty good shape, but his gas mixture was off, with slightly higher nitrogen than normal. Not catastrophic, but enough to cause some nitrogen narcosis. You've heard of the Narks, right, kid? Ocean divers here on the Big Blue get them sometimes. Too much nitrogen in your air means too much in your blood, and that can kill or cripple you if you don't get proper medical attention. Even in its milder forms it can impair judgment just like you were dead drunk.

I radioed in what I found, and Solly, already on stand-by, suited up. It would take at least two of us to move Wu. While I was waiting for Solly to cycle through, I wandered over to the downed crawler to take some readings with my multiscanner. To my surprise, I detected some power and heat still in it. I shuffled over to the nose of the vehicle, the only part not completely buried, and banged my armored fist down on it three times. I did it again, just to make sure. I touched my faceplate to the metal, listening.

For a long time, nothing. I was about to give up when I heard three soft thumps vibrating through the bulkhead, then another three.

Survivors!

I told Hulan, and we worked out a plan. First, Solly and I would bring Wu into our crawler for medical attention. Then, working in shifts to minimize rad exposure, everyone except Crunchy would suit up and start digging out the downed crawler. Hulan managed to bounce a tightbeam message off a passing satellite to the Dancing Sun; they'd prep a shuttle and get it out to us in about six hours.

Solly joined me on the surface, and as he moved toward me and Wu we heard Crunchy whistle low over the common link. He told Solly to turn toward the downed crawler so he could do an enhanced scan with the suit's uplinked sensor suite.

Both he and Hulan gasped as the readout came in, and they patched the results through to the heads-up display in our helmets. Seen in low ultraviolet, the portion of the cliff exposed by the avalanche sparkled like a mountain of diamonds. Iridium ore, Hulan said. A huge vein of it.

We were very quiet as we all drooled. Iridium was rare and valuable, especially with a large jewelry market opening up for it on the Big Blue. Just a dozen tons or so, if the ore was pure enough, could net the discovering crew enough of a bonus percentage for a passage back to Earth.

We wouldn't see any of that, of course. That money belonged to Wu and his friends in the downed crawler. Oh, we'd get a nice bonus for the rescue effort--it was how the ol' KY corp ensured incentive for stuff like this--but it would be nowhere near what the iridium could net us.

I joked that at least we'd have enough pocket change to keep us in beer for a few weeks.

No one laughed, and Hulan got real quiet after that.

Solly and I ended up dragging Wu over thirty meters, as our crawler could only maneuver so close to the escarpment with all the avalanche debris. Once inside, Hulan and Crunchy gingerly peeled him out of his suit. They wore insulating gloves and smocks, as the suit's outer armor still hovered around 400 degrees C. I joined them inside while Solly set up crude Morse-code communications with the people in the downed crawlers. I only took off my helmet, however, as I would have to venture outside again soon enough.

Hulan began suiting up while Crunchy tended to Wu. Our guest turned out to be quite a burly guy, bigger than even Solly and me. A once-over with the med scanners showed nothing seriously wrong with him except for a minor concussion and a case of the Narks. Crunchy laid him out on a fold-down bunk and slapped a wrist-doc on him. The doc would automatically monitor his condition and its regimen of drugs would eventually work his body chemistry back to normal in a few hours.

From outside, Solly reported much worse news. The avalanche survivors, a man and a woman, were "enjoying a situation," which is Spacer talk for being really screwed.

The damaged batteries powering their life-support would give out at least an hour before the shuttle arrived. Also, a fissure had formed on the exposed underside of the upturned crawler, where the radiation shielding was thinnest. Near as they could tell, only the weight of the avalanche on top of the vehicle was keeping the fissure from ripping wide open and letting them shake hands with Mr. Vacuum.

This caused more than a few frowns. The multi-ton pile of debris on the vehicle did not look very stable. Remove the wrong rock and the entire weight could shift, breaking open the rupture.

We debated about what to do. It looked hopeless. Hulan surprised me by very bluntly saying that we should abandon the survivors and see what we could do to mark the iridium claim for ourselves. If there was nothing we could do for them, then we should start thinking about ourselves.

Her proposal was tempting. Poverty sucks, kid. You never get used to it. It's like cancer always eating away at you, one you'd do almost anything to cure. A chance at some real money right then was like showing the Tin Man an oil gusher. To be out of debt for the first time in years, to go home, maybe actually live a decent life, was a temptation that gnawed at me.

But I just couldn't do it. Even if saving those survivors was hopeless, we had to at least try. How could I live with myself if I did anything else?

Solly sided with me, and Crunchy gave a noncommittal grunt, like he didn't care one way or the other. Hulan scowled like a KY exec who'd dropped a quarter, then sighed long and loud. Okay, okay, she said, she'd go along provided we didn't do anything to get her killed.

Crunchy was the one who came up with a real solution. He looked over the crawler specs--they were all pretty standard issue--and discovered that perhaps having the other crawler's underside exposed wasn't all that bad. Near the front of the crawler was a life-support intake valve, one we could hook up an umbilical from our crawler to. It would allow us to share atmosphere and power with the survivors until the shuttle from the Dancing Sun arrived with better rescue equipment.

Only about a hundred kilos or so of avalanche debris lay over the valve, but from the way all those rocks were precariously piled on it, moving them might shift the entire mass. That's when Crunchy's plan turned downright brilliant.

The pools of self-smelting metal, he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. We carried tarps to help deflect rads during EVA, and we could carefully rig one or more of them over the debris pile without touching it. Then we'd carefully spray the rocks with the molten metal. I know that might sound nuts here on the Big Blue, kid, but remember we were working in vacuum. With no air to hold the heat, anything in shadow cools down real fast. The metal wouldn't freeze instantly, but it would congeal in just a few minutes, holding the rocks in place. Once that happened, we could remove the blockage from the valve without having to worry about shifting the whole works. Yeah, things inside would first get real hot and then real cold for the survivors, forcing their life-support to drain the battery power much faster, but once we got the umbilical connected they could draw off our batteries.

The problem was getting some of that liquid metal. We couldn't spot any natural pools close by, and the downed crawler's train was buried by the collapsed escarpment. The only solution was for Crunchy to drive back to our train and bring it back. That would take a few hours, while the rest of us concentrated on setting up the tarps. It was also pretty risky, as when he got back, providing everything went off without any complications, the people inside the crawler would have less than forty minutes of air left. Those of us in the suits wouldn't be much better off.

We didn't see much other choice, so off he trundled with the crawler.

Two hours of sweat and swearing later, we had everything set up. When we spotted the returning crawler a kilometer away on the horizon, we gave a little cheer. Maybe this shit-faced idea would work after all!

The vehicle suddenly stopped dead. When it didn't move after ten minutes, we frantically began beating the radio waves for some sign from Crunchy. Was something wrong?

Nah, Crunchy said in a very static-choked voice, nothing was wrong. He'd done a lot of thinking on the drive out and back. Thinking about how valuable that iridium was, and how much more of a bonus he'd get if he didn't have to share the claim with anyone. Enough to pay off all his gambling debts, maybe even get back in good with his old syndicate. So he explained very calmly, like he was reciting his multiplication tables, that he was going to wait out there until all our air supplies were gone and just wait for the shuttle to show up. He could claim a mechanical problem with the crawler prevented him from getting back in time to help his poor crewmates, and with no one alive to contradict him, the authorities would probably swallow his story whole.

Hulan swore up a storm over the common channel. All Crunchy did was laugh, saying Hulan was only angry because she hadn't thought of it herself. I could see through her faceplate that she hung her head low at his words, as if maybe on some level he might have been right.

The worst part of it all was there was nothing we could do. Now I know what you're thinking, kid. He was just a klick or so away, so why didn't we try to rush the vehicle? It should have been easy in that low gravity, right? But those armored suits we wore were very bulky and heavy, even on Mercury, plus we'd just spent several exhausting hours working in them. We couldn't have chased down a snail, much a less a fully-powered crawler that could just drive away as soon as the driver saw us slowly plodding toward him.

The way he calmly gloated over our impending deaths was surreal, kid, like something from a holovid show. You don't think that sort of thing happens in real life, but maybe guys like Crunchy have to talk it out with somebody, even their victims, so they have enough nerve to go through with it. He even patched in a video of himself in the driver's seat to our heads-up display so we could see him laugh at us.

Then this huge shadow loomed over him. He was grabbed away from the camera as we heard this angry yell. For the next minute all we heard were these awful thumps and cracking sounds mixed with a long, agonized whimper.

I chanced shuffling to the crawler. It took some time, but I reached the airlock without the vehicle gunning away and cycled through. Just inside the inner doors, Crunchy lay in a crumpled heap next to a bulkhead, looking wide-eyed past the ceiling and into eternity.

In a chair next to the reactor section was Wu Hsiang, his head cradled in his hands like he had the worst hangover in human history.

We found out later that Wu had started coming out of his stupor just as Crunchy was explaining how he was going to allow us all to die. He was only partially recovered from the Narks, the inert gas in his system still acting like alcohol. And, wouldn't you know it, Wu turned out to be one very mean drunk. One who didn't take kindly to this spindly twerp trying to hurt his friends in the other crawler.

Later, he didn't even recall attacking Crunchy. That was probably for the best.

I stripped off the pressure suit in record time and drove the crawler toward the avalanche site. After they recharged their own suits from the external hook-up, Hulan and Solly got to work with the molten metal. Crunchy may have been a bastard, but I'll be damned if his plan didn't work. We got the umbilical attached with ten minutes to spare for the people inside.

The shuttle from the Dancing Sun arrived and had Wu's crewmates out within another day. Wu and his friends were so grateful that they agreed to share their claim bonus with Hulan, Solly and me. Split six ways, it wasn't quite the fortune everyone hoped it to be, but it was enough for Solly and me to eventually give the ol' KY the finger, pay off our debts six months early, and head back here to the Big Blue.

That's pretty much it, kid. Solly and I still hang out together and we keep in touch with Hulan, who eventually got transferred to KY's lunar operations, in part due to her "exemplary command performance," as some exec put it, during the whole rescue operation.

What’s that? You're thinking of going into space, kid? Haven't you been listening? Space is for crazy, stupid, desperate people who don't know how good they got it on a nice, safe planet.

Heh. You'll probably fit right in.

I guess every new frontier needs idiots like us.

Tell you what, how about the same time tomorrow night, kid? Another story for another beer, what do you say?

Confessions Of A Xenophile

2010-01-04T12:44:00.025-05:00

(Warning: This article will touch upon some mature subject matter, more so than my usual posts. Rated PG-13. Also, I talk here from the male's POV, but a lot of what's discussed can be applied to female scifi fans as well.)

A few weeks ago, Conan O'Brian was interviewing James Cameron on The Tonight Show and mentioned something I found interesting: He said that he thought the lead female Na'vi character in Cameron's movie Avatar was pretty hot. Andy Richter, sidekick extraordinaire, chimed in almost immediately to agree.

What's significant about this is that the Na'vi are definitively not human. Oh, the Na'vi are humanish, as in most of the 'important' parts that humans require for a female to look sexy are there. Yet they're packaged in a way that leaves little doubt that the Na'vi are not members of the species homo sapiens.

If, like Conan O'Brian, you found the Na'vi girl Neytiri to be hot, all I have to say is: welcome to the club. Some of us have actually found alien and other non-human girls hot for a long time now, and maybe its time we started speaking out.

The term is 'xenophile,' someone who is open to, and holds affection for, the alien and foreign. It also has a sexual/romantic connotation, as in someone who is attracted to foreigners, or, in this case, non-human people. Its not as unusual an affectation as most people think.

Science fiction fandom, to no surprise, boasts a very large percentage of potential xenophiles, and of course that genre has had no shortage of sexy non-humans to appeal to fans. With SF so popular nowadays, xenophilia seems to be more popular than ever, and I would even dare say it was close to being mainstream, especially with hugely successful properties like Star Trek and Avatar showing sexy aliens and humans having liaisons with them.

My first inkling that I may be a bit of a xenophile myself came in pubescence, with a fascination for Orion slave girls and Vulcan women in Star Trek and for Frank Frazetta's cover paintings showing the crimson-skinned, egg-laying Dejah Thoris in Edgar Rice Burroughs classic John Carter of Mars series. I grew up and of course discovered real girls, but even through dating and all the other romantic hijinks, a curvy alien woman was sure to rivet my attention pretty strongly, even to this day.

Of course this caused some friction with some girlfriends, but most were pretty understanding it. In fact, the ones that were into SF or fantasy themselves usually saw no problem with it, though sadly I have never been able to get one to dress up in green body paint and an Orion slave bikini. Someday....

Friends have also confessed similar attractions over the years, so I know I was far from alone: Athaclena from The Uplift war by David Brin; Aslan and Vargr characters from the Traveller RPG; Klingon women from later Star Trek incarnations; Delenn from Babylon 5; Twi'lek girls from Star Wars; Orcs and Night Elves from World of Warcraft; Dadward's alien pin-up girl Xixa, illustrated to the left. Even the Beast from Disney's Beauty and the Beast, who my girlfriend (27 at the time) would have much preferred not turn back to human at the end of the movie. Attraction toward the inhuman seems to be a very common theme in our modern culture.

So is it all the result of some deviant mutant behavior? Naw.

First of all, people who seem to have at least some xenophilia in them actually seem to be pretty high in number. From my own very unscientific polling, I'd say at least about 25% of my friends, family, and coworkers could be considered to have xenophilia tendencies. What it is in the general population I couldn't say without a real study, but about a quarter or so of the population sounds about right, and of course the percentage is probably significantly higher among scifi fans.

I also think xenophilia derives from a very basic facet of human behavior: outbreeding instinct. It doesn't get as much press as its scandalous cousin inbreeding, but outbreeding is very important to any species' long-term survival, and is responsible for so-called hybrid vigor. Its the instinct to introduce as much variation into your offspring's genes as possible to ensure better overall survival. To do this, one seeks mates who are as much unlike oneself as possible but still recognizable as viable breeding prospects. In other words, the more exotic and foreign a date appears to you, the more attractive he or she will likely be.

Most of us have experienced at least a touch of this at one time or another. If you ever found a foreign accent sexy, it was likely your outbreeding instinct at play. It explains also why asian women are so popular as sex fantasies among guys in the North America, and why blond women are the same to males in the Far East. Its all a matter of what is familiar to you, and what you will find exotic.

Some people have a much more highly developed outbreeding instinct than others. So much so that apparently it can extend to imaginary characters who aren't technically human. As long the character is relatively human in shape and the specific "parts" (do I really have to spell out which ones?) which we tend to focus on for attraction are there, other details don't seem to matter as much. In fact, these tertiary characteristics, if made slightly non-human, only add to the characetrs' exotic nature and in some ways will make her (or him) more attractive in that outbreeding kind of way.

There also seems to be different sub-classes of xenophiles that have sprung from different scifi subcultures and genres. These include fantasy-philes (likes elves, hobbits, elves, orcs, etc), otaku (anime girls in all their big-eyed weird haired variations), furries (human-like mousegirls, catgirls, etc), monster-philes (vampires, werewolves, ghosts, etc), technophiles (cyborgs, androids, fembots,) and more.

But of course this is all just fun fantasy. Non-human people don't exist, and if we ever did meet any, the chances are very huge against them ever being romantically or sexually compatible with us. (Unless we eventually genetically engineer some that way, but that is another whole can of ethical worms...)

But that doesn't stop scifi fans from fantasizing, and in fact, capitalizing on their xenophilia has become big business. The Twilight series, about a human girl with very non-human would-be suitors, shows just how much money can be made from tapping into it from the female side. Avatar's runaway popularity also seems to stem at least partly from the sexiness of its non-human characters, especially in a way that appeals to males. Both properties take different approaches as to target the different genders, but they both tap into the same desire we have for the sexually exotic. And because they've made so much money, it only means that Hollywood and others are sure to tap more of this xenophile desire in the coming years. So I suspect this is only the beginning of a wave of xenophile works we'll see in the next decade or more.

So if you've ever had a tingle in your trousers from watching ten foot blue-skinned cat-eyed people jumping about in skimpy loincloths, relax. There's nothing wrong with you. You're not alone, and in fact belong to a fairly large group of like-minded indivduals. Welcome to the club.

(Neytiri copyright James Cameron. Other illustrations by Dadward, used with permission. Check out his WEBSITE and all his cool swag at his CAFEPRESS SHOP!)

Russia Vs Apophis

2009-12-31T07:37:00.006-05:00

It sounds like an episode of Stargate:SG-1 featuring their long-running Gua'uld villain, but this actually refers to a possible mission bye the Russian Space Agency to deflect asteroid 99942 Apophis, which is scheduled to make two very close approaches to Earth in the next few decades. For the full story, check out THIS article from the New York Times.

The mission is by no means firm, international objections are already being raised, and even if it does go ahead the exact method to be used for the deflection hasn't been elaborated on. But I hope the mission does go ahead.

First of all, I do think it would be a good thing to deflect the asteroid away if possible. Even though scientists are pretty sure its trajectory will carry it through a couple of near misses, something unforeseen could teeter in toward a collision course. I don't consider that very likely, but its not impossible, so perhaps its best not to take a chance.

But more important, it will test a capability that will prove very valuable to long-term future space efforts. Not just in terms of safety, in deflecting possible future impactors, but in terms of how to exploit one of the most abundant and important resources in interplanetary space. Not any time in the near future, mind you, but toward the end of this century or perhaps early in the next one can envision asteroids being slowly herded about the inner solar system, to be used as mineral resources for burgeoning construction projects and as natural frameworks for well-armored space-borne habitats. But in order to do that, we will first have to master how to move them about safely and with minimal damage.

The first few experimental deflections would be an important first step toward such a future. And NASA has actually talked occasionally about carrying out an experimental deflection themselves within the next ten years, just to test techniques for it, but on a different rock than Apophis.

So, despite the controversy this is going to be sure to create, the Russian deflection plans would be a big forward step in space development. Let's hope this isn't just empty talk.

Hidden Treasures of Science Fiction: Scrapped Princess!

2009-12-21T10:31:00.008-05:00

Is it possible to tell a good science fiction story relying mostly on high fantasy tropes--wizards, magic, knights, prophecies, and so on? There actually have been numerous attempts over the years, but most of them have fallen short or come across as merely clever contrivances. And I thought that's all such attempts could ever be.

That is, until Scrapped Princess, an anime TV series that ran on Japanese TV in 2003, which to my great surprise turned out to be an epic science fiction story 'disguised' as high fantasy. The series is based on number of light novels created by Ichiro Sakaki and boasts the same character designer who worked on Cowboy Bebop. It has received high praises by many reviewers both in Japan and in North America for its excellent story, music, and first-class production values, ending up on numerous 'Best of Anime' lists.

I admit I've become somewhat of a reborn anime fan in the last year. I used to be really into anime in the 90s, but my enthusiasm for it waned after it started becoming increasingly mainstream in the wake of Pokemon, and the need to divert my money at the time to more practical pursuits.

However, thanks to anime shows uploaded online by various sites and dedicated fans, I've been rediscovering a lot of really good anime, and have gotten somewhat back into the hobby. And I'm very glad I have; as a science fiction enthusiast, it has opened up a doorway into a great many good stories I would have never have otherwise discovered. In the past year, I've watched through the entire runs of Cowboy Bebop, Planetes, Last Exile, and most recently, Scrapped Princess.

The 24-epsiode story centers around 15-year-old Pacifica Casull, who at birth was prophecized to be the Poison That Would Destroy the World on her 16th birthday. So she was thrown off a cliff--literally 'scrapped'--as a newborn to make sure that never happened.

But as you can probably guess, she was saved at the last moment and secretly placed with a foster family, where she grew up unaware of her destiny. But just a few months shy of her fateful birthday, she was discovered and her foster parents killed by a murderous mob. She was forced to flee with her older brother and sister, and the story opens with them on the run from the powerful forces who want her dead at all costs--perhaps with justification.

Though the series begins seeming like any another high fantasy tale in the vein of Record of Lodoss War, it quickly becomes clear that this story is actually science fiction via Clark's Law (which states that any technology, sufficiently advanced, is indistinguishable from magic.) The 'magic' and 'spirits' and 'gods' of their world are all just forms of technology too advanced for them to understand. This may be a bit of a spoiler, but it was something made very plain by the sixth episode, and the rest of the series makes no attempt to disguise from the viewer that everything happening in the series is the result of highly advanced science.

As the world's backstory becomes revealed throughout the series, the reasons for why their world is set up the way it is begins making a lot of sense. It does get a bit convoluted in places, but all the pieces do end up fitting neatly into place by the end.

Scrapped Princess also surprised me in that it was about something we don't see a lot of in anime or in science fiction--brothers and sisters and the bonds siblings share. Pacifica's older adoptive brother and sister--Shannon, a gruff swordsman, and Raquel, a level-headed sorceress--aren't motivated by any hidden agendas or lofty goals. Very simply, they protect Pacifica because she's their beloved little sister, prophecy be damned.

They also honestly act like brothers and sisters too, arguing and trading barbs and sometimes even going against each other out of pique. Pacifica is bratty, Shannon is dour and critical, Raquel is the often exasperated peacemaker. But the strong bond they all share as a family never seems in doubt.

Pacifica comes from the Sailor Moon school of anime heroines. Often times she's whiny, self-absorbed, spoiled, and shallow, especially with her brother Shannon, with whom she often bickers. But beneath that seems a deeper core of compassion and determination which occasionally surfaces, showing the type of woman she would eventually become, if she survives. Throughout the series she struggles a lot emotionally with the fact that so many people are dying and suffering just because she exists, and wonders if maybe the world really would be better off she was 'scrapped.'

The series vacillates back and forth between lighter comedic moments and much more weighty issues. One moment they would be dealing with Soopy Kun (a goofy cartoonish dragon costume that one of the secondary characters ends up habitually wearing), the next they would be dealing with the ultimate fate of mankind and who may have to die for Pacifica to fulfill her destiny. Mostly it finds a good balance between them.

Scrapped Princess also turned out to be very West-friendly. It doesn't rely overly much on anime cliches or nuances of Japanese culture that can often confuse North American viewers new to the medium. There is a fair amount of cheesecake in some episodes and some very occasional but brief peek-a-boo nudity, mostly stemming from the Japanese predilection for frequent bathing. This, taken along with the violence, would probably rate the series at PG-13.

The complete series is available on DVD, which you can find HERE, among other places. Episodes are also available online.

Extrasolar 'Water World' May Have Been Found

2009-12-16T14:52:00.003-05:00

For more details, follow THIS link to the original article on MSNBC's Cosmicblog.

Basically, astronomers have spotted a so-called 'super-earth' in orbit about a G-class star 40 light years away that may have an abundant amount of water.

But don't get too excited about finding exotic alien mermaids on it just yet. The planet wouldn't be a fun place for a human to go traipsing about on without an armored space suit on. Its 2 to 10 times the mass of Earth, meaning it would likely have unpleasantly high gravity as well as potentially crushing atmospheric pressure, depending on its composition. Its also unpleasantly close to its primary, with an estimated surface temperature of 400 degrees F.

But still, because of its estimated density, experts are fairly certain it may hold significant amounts of water, even if it would be in the form of water vapor. Plus, depending on its atmospheric composition, the high atmospheric pressure might be enough to keep surface water liquid even at its estimated temperatures.

Discovery of the presence of water on an extrasolar terrestrial world would be a major find, and a good indication that other worlds like Earth, with abundant liquid water and a thriving biosphere, may actually be out there among the wilds of the Milky Way. Just something to keep an eye on in the coming months as astronomers turn other instruments toward that very distant world and see if they can discover anything more.

The Decade's Best Science Fiction Animation

2009-12-07T08:53:00.023-05:00

Animation would seem to be the most natural medium for science fiction. It literally has infinite creative freedom--anything a creator can envision can be drawn and animated on screen.

Unfortunately, at least in North America, the potential of the medium in scifi has been slow in catching on. Fantasy stories and comedies have dominated American animation for decades, while science fiction has usually been a creature of live-action films. This is not to say there hasn't been a lot great live-action scifi, but it would be nice to see Hollywood really cut loose and see what it could do with animated science fiction. But the situation has improved, haltingly, in the last decade. If I'd done this list ten years ago, it would have been all Japanese anime with one exception (The Iron Giant.) I'm glad to say that this list has a number of very strong American entries, and I hope that trend continues.

And it is probably Japanese anime that has shown, and continues to lead the way, in what can be done with animated science fiction. Though the anime industry has become infamous for certain banal cliches (big-eyed schoolgirls, giant robots, tentacles...), it has also produced some truly classic works of science fiction such as Akira, Ghost in the Shell, and Cowboy Bebop. Its too bad that people in North America still tend to turn up their nose at these works simply because they're animated, because they stand shoulder to shoulder with the best live-action science fiction Hollywood has ever produced.

Now for the actual list, which includes both movies and TV series. Please keep in mind that these choices are MY OPINION only. I'm sure many people will disagree and will have their own picks, which is the way it should be. lists like this are always very subjective. Also, I haven't been able to watch everything; its certainly possible that there are some works that blow these all away that I just haven't seen.

First up are the honorable mentions. These works are all great in their own right and deserve to be seen, but lack that certain extra je ne sais quoi that could put them in my top 5.

The Incredibles (movie)
Justice League Unlimited (TV series)
Code Geass (TV series)
Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex (TV Series)
Last Exile (TV Series)

The main picks:

5. LILO & STITCH (2002): A dysfunctional little girl, still mourning the death of her parents, prays for an angel so she can have a friend. She gets the most unlikely one imaginable: a vicious, violent, super-powered monster from outer space.

There's a school of thought that science fiction has to be serious and profound, like Battlestar Galactica and Lost, to be good. I reject that outright. It not to say serious works can't be high quality, but in fiction, its much harder to make people smile and laugh than to make them frown, and takes just as smart a story. With its stylized design, sharp story, and quirkily-realized players, Lilo & Stitch has smarts in spades. From Lilo with her bizarrely skewed worldview to Stitch's gleeful vileness to the awesomely named Cobra Bubbles, the movie is an inventive, fun and character-driven romp that both sends up and greatly improves upon the science fiction monster movie.

4.THE GIRL WHO LEAPT THROUGH TIME(2006): Makoto, a 16-year old student in Japan, discovers on the verge of a fatal accident that she can literally leap backward through time. At first using her newfound ability frivolously, she finds that interfering with past events can have unpredictable and often disastrous consequences. The more she tries to correct them, the more things veer out of her control, until someone dear to her is threatened by the same accident she herself avoided. And when the source of her new power is uncovered, it brings a heart-wrenching revelation.

A much more thoughtful and intelligent take on time travel and romance than the clunky Time Traveler's Wife, this Japanese anime film is fun, intelligent, surreal, and at times profoundly moving. Too often teen-age protagonists are just stand-ins for cynical 40-year-old screenwriters, but Makoto comes across as a real 16-year-old, a tomboy who can be very cocksure one minute and very hesitant and vulnerable the next, especially when she begins to confront her first real romantic feelings. The director Mamoro Hosada very skillfully crafts his tale, allowing the heroine, and the audience with her, to take her time to react and think about developments naturally. I can count the number of truly good time travel movies on the fingers of one hand, and The Girl Who Leapt Through Time is one of those.

3. WALL-E (2008): On a future Earth choked lifeless by human garbage and neglect, one last robot spends year after year, century after century, clearing away mountains of trash long after all his fellows shut down. Slowly becoming self-aware, he longs for more from his existence, having only human junk and one lone recording of an old movie musical to guide him. Then, one day, a mysterious probe from space lands nearby...

WALL-E is the very best film created by Hollywood's very best animation studio. It has won scads of awards, even the Hugo for Best Dramatic Presentation. Its been described as lyrical and enthralling, full of a gosh-wow sense of wonder that is missing too much from modern science fiction. The first half of the film, which goes almost completely without dialog, has been called as close to a true work of art that computer animation has yet come. The robots of the film come across as much more fully-realized characters than the humans that are eventually weaved into the story, and the production's attention to detail is no less than astounding. It is the best animated scifi film of the decade, and one of the best overall science fiction films ever, for that matter. A true classic.

2. PLANETES (2003-2004): By the year 2075, an economic and energy boom created by exploiting Helium-3 on the moon has allowed humankind to expand wildly into space, with many small stations, nine large orbiting colonies, and even a full scale city of a hundred thousand on the Moon. However, all that activity generates an enormous amount of orbital debris that can pose a hazard to all the new orbital real estate. Enter the Debris Section, blue-collar stiffs working out of second-hands spacecraft to clean it all up. This 26-episode Japanese anime TV series follows the lives and happenings of these spaceborn garbage collectors.

I cannot reccommend this series highly enough. I've written about it before as a Hidden Treasure Of Science Fiction. For those who love truly hard science fiction, the series is a treasure trove, showcasing very believable near-future technologies with nary a hyperdrive or giant robot in sight. It should be required viewing for would-be scifi writers just for that aspect alone. But this realism extends also to most of its cast of internationally diverse characters, treating nearly all of them with complexity and maturity. Though the series can at first seem a bit off-putting--its main female character starts off as very annoying--it quickly builds up to a number of astounding, smartly-plotted, and at times deeply affecting stories. Combining gritty realism with aspirations toward humanity's greatest hopes, this series may be the single best work of on-screen science fiction Japan has produced since Cowboy Bebop.

1. FUTURAMA (1999-present): Lowly delivery boy Fry accidentally gets frozen for a thousand years and wakes up in a very oddly skewed Thirty-First Century. Befriending cynical robot Bender and the sexy one-eyed Leela, he finds his true destiny--as a delivery boy.

Futurama is to on-screen science fiction what The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy is to literary science fiction--all at once a mainstream comedy, a tour-de force parody of all things science fiction, and a great work of imagination in its own right. I also predict it will ultimately the most long-enduring and popular work of on-screen science fiction to be produced in the last decade, live action or animated, on small screen or large. It just seems to have that kind of populist resonance, that will ensure it will be a well-remembered classic decades from now.

The first thing that stands out about the series is its wonderfully demented characters: Fry, dimwitted and hypnotized by pop culture; Leela, sexy and heroic but self-conscious about her single gigantic eye; Bender, the joyfully amoral, alcoholic robot; Doctor Zoidberg, a clueless sadsack lobsteroid; and many more. There's more detail and dimension just in many of Futurama's walk-on characters than in many works' main ones. Then there's the universe it inhabits, a vast collection of of visual-puns, gonzo scifi motifs, and skewered sacred cows. An alien race addicted to thousand-year-old Earth TV programs; space bee hives; a planet-sized retirement home; a museum that resurrects celebrities just so they can spend all eternity as heads in a jar. It is a world where literally anything can happen, where the creators' imaginations can be fully unleashed, often to highly humorous effect.

It also helps that the series has consistently had some of the smartest writing on TV. As stated earlier, comedy is harder than drama to write well, and the fact that the show so consistently hits the funny bone is proof of the quality of its scripts. Surprisingly, its not all just laughs either. Very occasionally, it waxes both profound, such as when Bender postulates the nature of God, and heart-felt, such as when Fry learns the fate of his time-lost brother and nephew. Futurama is definitely a show for the ages.

Thoughts On Generation Ship Societies

2009-11-30T20:06:00.009-05:00

This entry is an informal response of sorts to a blog written by Charles Stross, which you can find HERE. Not that I think he'll read this, but I thought this might be something people reading the OV blog here might find interesting. I also touched upon this subject in one of the first articles I did for OV, Generations Ships.

In the original article, Stross postulates the difficulty in designing a society that could be stable enough to last through the centuries or millennia of the voyage. I think he was approaching the problem from the wrong angle.

You simply can't build a completely stable human society. Human history has proven that any institution established either mutates profoundly, dies off, or is absorbed by a newer one as the decades and centuries slip by. Human societies cannot be stable for long periods of time, its just not in our nature. Human culture is ultimately dynamic, not static, and that seems to be built right into our base psychology, if not our DNA.

Rather, you have to assume the human society on a generation ship is going to go through numerous upheavals and changes throughout its voyage. Its an inevitability. In fact, I'd even go so far to say that IT DOES NOT MATTER WHAT THE ORIGINATING GOVERNMENT OR SOCIETY IS. Its not going to last in recognizable form for more than a small fraction of any truly long-term voyage.

Realistically, the originating society on a gen ship will just be the builder society in microcosm. If the US built one tomorrow, the society would be the current US society in miniature. If China built one, it would be a mini-China, and so on. Its what the people starting the voyage would be most comfortable with, and imposing something radically different would lead to potentially a lot of trouble early on.

In fact, it seems an exercise in hubris by the designers, in assuming the generation ship crew will somehow be too stupid or inflexible to handle their own affairs, to the point that the builders have to impose excessively rigid societal restraints. It is true that a series of poor political decisions could have potentially disastrous effects on the environment or operation of the ship, but the same can be said of just about any government and its environs on Earth as well. Rather, we're just going to have to assume that the crew will adapt and grow to their environment on board in their own way, as our own societies have adapted and grown in unique ways to the world around us.

Instead of trying to impose rigid societal restraints that will just break down anyway, you need to provide the evolving society with one or more safety valves that will allow them to resolve conflicts with minimal threat to the ship as a whole. I think one of the most valuable of these would be living space.

Given the technology level needed to build a gen ship (which I estimate may come online at least 50 years from now, or at Tech Level 13 on the OV scale) how many crew do you really need to maintain it, given future advances in automata and AI? Probably not that many. So you leave most of the habitable space in your gen ship uninhabited; start with a small population, just big enough to ensure healthy genetic diversity, say a few hundred to a thousand. Concentrate them in one small town, and leave the rest of the habitat fallow. Depending on the size and design of the generations ship(Stross quotes an O'Neill-style hollowed asteroid design; it could also have many different levels or separate habitats), that could be from a few to maybe hundreds of square kilometers.

Over the course of the voyage, the crew will expand and 'colonize' the rest of the ship, giving them an added endeavor they can concentrate their energy on. Plus, when schisms and conflicts inevitably arise, the bereaved section of the society can just leave for 'new lands' elsewhere in the ship, giving them a hopefully better alternative to outright conflict.

The amount of fallow space you need to help mitigate potential conflicts would depend on a lot of variables, such as the size and design of the ship, the length of the voyage, and the size of the seed population. If planned out properly, the ship will reach its destination before all the internal space is used up. I do think this approach is the best way for a crew to mitigate the pitfalls of the inevitable ebb and flow of human societies on board a generation ship over the centuries.

More Updates Coming Soon!

2009-11-28T11:06:00.003-05:00

I apologize for the lack of updates both here and on the main site. I've been up to my eyeballs in other work and projects, some of which I'll announce on here before too long. But it looks like it will be a few weeks yet before I'll be able to get back into either posting articles on the main site or updating the blog here the way I'd like.

However, the good news is a fan of Orbital Vector has volunteered to recode the main site so it'll handle RSS feeds and such. plus I have over a dozen articles and blog entries already half-written, so when i can fully turn my attention back here I'll have a lot of material to work with.

Be back soon!

Nigeria's Orbital Ambitions

2009-10-30T21:39:00.004-04:00

According to
THIS article in the Global Post, Nigeria has ambitious plans for its modest space program, including a manned launch sometime in the coming decade.

To Nigeria's misfortune, when many people in the US and other Western nations think of it, the first thing that comes to mind are their notorious internet scammers and spammers. But I know from my nephew, who is half Nigerian, that the central-african nation has much to be proud of. In recent years, that includes a small but ambitious space program.

The details are in the linked article, so I won't need to repeat them here. But I hope that they succeed in their ambitions in orbit, especially in launching their own astronaut by 2015. Space should be accessible to, and exploitable by, everyone, not just the most powerful countries and global corporations. Africa is a huge, diversified continent with vast natural resources that I think will come into its own as a major global player in the coming century, and its forward-looking countries like Nigeria that will lead the way for its peoples. Best of luck to them.

SciFi TV: Maybe Its Time To Abandon The 1-Hour Format

2009-10-20T21:10:00.008-04:00

Recently there has been a dust-up on certain blogs and forums about the state of science fiction on TV, either a) bemoaning its quality or b) bemoaning how shows that are actually interesting, like Firefly or Dollhouse, often don't last long.

I think at least part of the remedy to both these problems can be solved with a relatively simple shift in approach: abandon one-hour shows for half-hour ones.

The idea would be attractive to networks, as half-hour shows would be cheaper to produce and invest in in the long term. They could try out twice as many ideas and approaches than they do currently, enabling them to more easily find the properties that will strike a chord with audiences and make them a profit.

And for fans, the switch would be even better in my opinion, as writers would have to cut a lot of extraneous dramatic junk that I think tends to drag down the worst of the hour-long shows. Scifi stories on TV can get leaner and meaner, focusing much more on important story elements while cutting a lot of the b-story plots used to just fill in time in hour-long episodes.

I haven't come to this conclusion in a vacuum, either. I've recently watched quite a bit of half-hour science fiction shows that easily equal anything the hour dramas have produced. Unfortunately, they weren't made in North America or even Europe. Yes, I'm talking about (gasp!) Anime.

Despite what some purist snobs in the West may think, Anime has indeed produced science fiction on par with the very best the West has produced. All one has to do is watch series like Cowboy Bebop or Planetes or Ghost in the Shell to attest to that.

That's not to say that there isn't a lot of mediocre anime out there; there is, and Sturgeon's Law (which states that the majority of anything is crap) holds true for it as for anything else. But the very best of it does demonstrate definitively that half-hour science fiction can be high-quality, mature, intelligent, and exciting. And there was nothing I saw FX-wise in shows like *Bebop* or *Planetes* that couldn't be done in live-action nowadays. It would just be a matter of finding the right pacing and approach to make such shows work, depending on the concept.

Somehow, though, there seems to be a stigma against half-hour dramas in the US. Half-hour time slots are reserved for comedies, hours for dramas, and that's the way its been for decades now. I'm not sure if that could be changed around enough to give any half-hour scifi TV show a decent chance. But then, if the show is good enough, it would find an audience no matter what.

What I'm basically saying is that if the Japanese can produce quality half-hour science fiction shows, we should be able to as well. And it would help to seriously re-invigorate a TV genre that seems stalled for some time now. Anyway, something to think about.

(Cowboy Bebop copyright Sunrise.)

400+ Exoplanets and counting

2009-10-19T21:15:00.003-04:00

According to THIS article, 32 newly confirmed exoplanets have been added to the ever-growing list, thanks to the efforts of astronomers at the European South Observatory. Most significant here is the fairly large percentage of 'super-earths' discovered, planets that are much more massive than Earth, but are not big enough to be gas giants. If these are fairly common, than that means that smaller terrestial planets like the kind we are familiar with must be a standard feature in most star systems.

I would put a cautionary asterix next to the statement in the article by astronomer Alan Boss that, "The universe must indeed be crowded with habitable worlds." While I think most of us would indeed hope that's the case, there's still no real evidence for that. The universe seems to be a very hostile place, and even a plentitude of terrestrial planets does not automatically guarantee a plentitude of life. A lot can still go wrong in the billions of years that are needd for life to evolve, even if it does arise on any world. I'm not saying that life-bearing worlds aren't out there, I'm just saying we need more evidence before we can say that the universe is crowded or not with them

VASIMR Plasma Rocket Powers Up

2009-10-06T21:39:00.004-04:00

Less than a day after my LAST blog entry, where I predicted that Plasma Rockets will become the predominant space propulsion technology later in the century, comes news that an experimental plasma rocket engine has just passed a significant milestone.

For full details go HERE for the original article from PHYSORG.COM. For the basics of how VASIMR and other types of plasma rockets work, go HERE.

Here's hoping the Ad`Astra Rocket Company continues to do such exemplary research and devlopment. I do think plasma rockets hold a tremendous amount of promise, and the sooner the technology is fully developed, the better off our future in space will be.

(Image Copyright Ad Astra Rocket Company)