Multiverse 7 Snippet 3

 Sitrep:

So, plugging away on Bootstrap 5, I'm closing in on finishing up the first act. Slow going, but I'm getting there.

In other news, the cover for Bootstrap 1 revamp is good but the backflap needs work. I've been working on it in the evenings. Render times have skyrocketed with the increase in level of detail which is... driving me crazy at the moment. Mechmaster is patiently working on it with me. :)

Hopefully I'll have something better to show soon.

Oh! Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day!

On to the snippet!

 

The following is the start of the first Federation story called Skyworld. It was fun to write and puzzle over.

 

Skyworld

 

The lighthouse was an ivory pillar on a jagged steep column of rock. A suspension bridge connected it to another rock spire, and another bridge from there connected it to the rock where the main house was.

Stairs spiraled down around the rock. At one point, the wood and plastic stairs had a railing; the wood had dried out and at some point either given way or been sacrificed for fire material. Now the only safe way down the stairs was to cling to the rock face and pick your way along the steps. You took your life into your hands each time you used them. Forget trying to climb up or down the stairs in high winds.

Ben Sereph, the chief lighthouse keeper, noted fog rolling in. It was to be expected. The barometric pressure was high but the temperature was dropping quickly. He checked the foghorn to be sure it would work. He also checked to be sure he had enough padding to pack the ears of the family to drown it out later.

Fog was the scariest time to be in the air; any sane flyer either flew above it or grounded themselves. If they were going over the deeps, they chanced a predator seeing their shadow and lunging at them in a breech.

Clouds at least were not as bad most times. Fog was a form of cloud, but it could be so thick you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. It would roll in just below the lighthouse giving it an ominous sea of cotton all around it.

Seeing a breech was spectacular as long as you weren’t the victim of it. He had seen his fair share of them over the years as the lighthouse keeper and before when he’d been a flier himself.

He flexed his right arm, keeping his left to his side. His left arm had been badly damaged in an injury and had healed wrong. The wing skin was bumpy and had holes in it.

He was a chimera, a descendant of a genetically engineered human who had turned themselves into a man-bat. He had hollow bones and short legs. A flap of skin had once been between his legs. That too had been damaged, and the doc had trimmed it to allow him to get around easier without having to knuckle walk anymore.

It did allow him to wear pants, which was warmer in the cold wet air. But he still missed … he twisted his face and looked away in pain.

His homeworld had been a minor gas giant in the goldilocks zone that had been terraformed by a corporation during the Federation. The man who had orchestrated the move was named Drake Tugarin. He was still around; when he had retired, he had changed his body form into a were dragon. He was over nine hundred years old and a titan. He slept a lot more, and his mind wandered, but he still thought of himself as the governor of the star system.

No one was stupid enough to dispute it. At least, no one within biting range of the dragon at any rate.

During the Federation time, the planet had served as a tourist trap in the region. Ships would stop by for their abundant supply of hydrogen, water, and oxygen. Cruise liners would bring loads of passengers to experience the color of the natives and the hospitality of the hotels that were there to service them.

Hotels, resorts, and of course casinos. All designed to pamper the guests and keep them content while they willingly signed over vast sums of money in the casinos or doing events and other scatterbrained things.

There had been fishing, air sailing, diving, flying, and especially racing.

Most of the residents had worked in the hospitality industry in company housing. They had to fulfill every job imaginable to keep the place running smoothly.

When the fall of the Federation came, many star systems were overwhelmed helping refugees. When the power, food, and tech inevitably ran out, they had to scramble to find ways to support themselves.

Their home planet had a space station at one point. Operative word there, had. He looked up to the blue sky bleakly. At one point, they’d had a massive space station that ships could unstep their hyperdrives and dock with.

That had changed when a damn changeling had gotten on board. The governor had ordered the station to be destroyed by setting off an improvised fusion warhead. Millions of people had died. But better they died cleanly in the hellfire of a nuke over getting eaten alive by nanites that had been set loose within the confines of the station.

He shivered a little. And better still that the nanites hadn’t found their way to the planet’s atmosphere.

Some of the resorts and hotels had fallen over the centuries. Many of those had been kept up by antigrav. When the tech failed, so did the platform. Small platforms had managed to use vast dirigibles to keep afloat but they were fire hazards.

There was no real ground for people to settle on and spread out on. The ground they did have was the tops of spires and mountains that were far below. No one could survive living on the ground; the air pressure was just too great.

Over the intervening years if one thing or another didn’t kill you, a person saved up and got off the damn world. They were still a crossroads for ship traffic. There were four jump points that lead to other star systems. They were one of the few places it was convenient to refuel.

Of course that meant they were essentially a watering hole. Which meant predators in the form of the damn lice, bedraggled pirates lurked. They had driven off a lot of the traffic.

He hated the pirates with a passion. They hadn’t taken his wing, which had been his own damn fault. But they had killed many people. Worse, they took what they wanted and threatened to destroy the few places left that people could cling to.

Those people that could get out had done so over the years. Many young people took off if given half the chance. They had lost a lot of institutional knowledge in the process.

That and the population had shifted.

He checked the light and cleaned a section of the glass with a rag. There was a bit of crud, probably from the airborne bacteria and plankton. Cleaning the light was a constant headache; the light tended to attract animals and insects. With the small ones, came the larger ones and so on and so forth.

He checked the instruments and then used a quill pen to mark down the time and readings for the almanac. He was careful to not use too much of the ink. It was made from a flying squid that was tough to catch.

He put the quill in the container and then turned away. The journal laid open for him. The papers ruffled by the light breeze. He glanced at it and then outside.

His wife should be back any time, he mused thoughtfully. Hopefully before dark, he thought darkly. She knew better than to push it. Hell, hopefully before dusk, that was when the predators really came out to hunt.

Damn you, Serena, get back here, he thought with a mental growl. Motion at the house out of the corner of his eye attracted his attention. He turned and saw their eldest waving. He grunted and lifted him up off the stool and made his way out of the lighthouse and to the bridges linking the lighthouse to their small home.

===@===

Serena felt contentment as she sighted home. It was still there, still a part of the landscape. Like the rocks the house and lighthouse clung to, just there.

She was tired from her long flight and heavy payload, but wise enough to not go straight in. There was a narrow stretch that she could run but it went right over the depths. Instead, she banked away and took the safe way in. It meant the setting sun was at her back.

The depths were already being obscured by the rolling fog, like a blanket being pulled over it. Ben’s going to be irked at my tardiness, but I had to catch that last thermal, she thought with a mental shrug.

It wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t fly. He had been young and stupid enough to fly too close to the rocks. He’d paid for the mistake with a shattered wing arm and shredded sails. The fire a few years ago hadn’t helped.

At least we didn’t lose the house, she thought as she banked ever so slightly, conserving altitude as she tried to sail into the narrow landing platform attached to the house.

She felt the packages and mail weighing her down. It was all strapped to her harness. She might have over done it, but it might mean they may not have to go out for groceries again for a full week.

Maybe.

Besides, they’d gotten paid, which was great. It had been past time to stock up. The larder was getting low and the kids were heartily tired of eating lichen and what the adults could catch in the nets. A treat was in order.

She did a spiral once home was in sight. She hated and loved this part. The depths were near the edge of the platform; the winds were just right that had to go over them in order to land. In order to do it, she had a trick though.

Like a falcon she tucked her wings in tight and pointed her nose to the platform in a steep dive. She flew fast over the depths as she lost altitude and then unfurled her wings to back wing at the platform edge.

A sudden gust of wind threw her timing off. But a hand reached out to grab her harness just before she went backwards over the edge.

She smiled as she recovered her balance, tucking her wings in her knuckles to the ground for stability. Her long fingers tucked up against her arms.

“You need to be more careful with an unfamiliar load, mom,” Charlie said as he let go of her harness.

“Nice to see you too, son,” she said as she kissed him on the head.

“I take it work was good?”

“You could say that,” she said with a grin as they got away from the edge of the platform to avoid anything being tempted to come up to investigate. Once clear she undid a few of the packages and handed them over to him.

He wrapped one around his waist and then slung the other over his shoulder. She tisked and attached it to his harness.

He clicked his mouth but didn’t object. He knew better.

They negotiated the stairs, sticking to the cliff side. “Your father needs to get another rope here. Two of them,” Serena complained.

“You say that all the time. But you know he can’t leave this place. So, it is up to you to buy them, right?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Too true.” She was tired and hungry. Her hunger was a product of her exertions flying. She had low blood sugar and needed to refuel. “What’s for dinner?”

Her son snorted. “What else? Stew. Dad was brooding in the lighthouse all day so we only checked the small traps.”

“Damn,” his mother muttered.

“He did check them in the morning; there wasn’t much. I netted a crab off the east side.”

“You did?” she asked, clearly pleased.

“Yeah, it made for good crab sandwiches,” he said.

She smiled. At least he and his siblings had been fed.

One of the things that had attracted her to Ben was his inability to fly. She’d never told him that, in fact she’d never told a soul. He was moody and brooded a lot. She knew it and knew why. But the reason he couldn’t fly was why she had taken him as a mate. He could mind the kids while she continued to fly and work.

It wasn’t something you ever admitted to your earthbound mate, however.

He did have his moments. He was great with their children when he was in a good mood. Even when he was in one of his moods he never took it out on her or the kids. He just shut down. Usually the antics of one of the kids would break him out of it.

Once they were at the landing around the house, he turned. “One day I am going to make this bigger so you can land here,” he indicated the platform.

“Sure you will. With what wood?” she retorted.

He shrugged as she opened the door and they stepped inside.

As expected the house was warm but darker than outside. The windows were small and patched. Two were covered with muslin rather than glass. They still had pieces of glass in them, but they didn’t do much. When it was cold out, they were the first to be shuttered.

A dried log of lichen was burning in the fireplace. It was a light fire; a pot of stew simmered next to it on a forked rod.

A spoon and poker leaned up against the sooty fireplace. She flicked a look of disapproval at the spoon but then went back to surveying the room. All was right as it should be.

William was entertaining his two sisters. Sunny was enjoying gliding off the stool. “Mommy mommy!” she called out in excitement.

Serena smiled tenderly and hugged her daughter. Eliza hugged her from the outside. “So, what’d you bring us?” the impetuous elder daughter asked slyly.

Her mother chuckled in response and ruffled her hair.

“So, where is your father?” she asked.

“At the lighthouse. Fog is rolling in. We had some plankton hit it. No pitting,” William told her. “He was waiting for the evening check-in time before he set the foghorn.”

Serena nodded.

“We need to do something about the western wind turbine. It’s not anchored well,” William said.

Serena nodded again. “The problem is …”

“Getting to it. And having something to anchor into. Yeah, I know,” he said. “But if we don’t do something soon one good gust and that will be all she wrote. It’ll fall into the depths.”

She grimaced. “The line might stop it.”

“If the weight doesn’t snap it. Or pull the box down with it,” William retorted.

Serena nodded again. She knew that. She was just tired.

Charles helped her to get her packages sorted out. The mail went to her desk by the window. The rest was quickly sorted out. She kept her surprise for later under wraps.

Charles went out to wave their father in as she settled down to eat some stew. The kids were pleased and told her about their day. She was tired but listened to them as she ate.

When Ben came in, she felt the gust of cold air but was sleepy. She smiled as she cuddled with Sunny. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi, yourself,” he said with a nod as the door closed behind him. Charles followed him in with a net. He dumped the contents in the sink and then began to sort it out. Ben went and kissed his wife’s forehead and then went to help his eldest deal with the catch.

Once the catch was sorted, he reset the trap with a bait fish and then went out and dropped it.

“Where was that one?” she asked Charles while his father was gone.

“North. He checked the traps on his way in.

“Oh,” she said with a tired nod. “Anything good?”

“A couple of crustaceans. There are some bones and wings of flying fish. He should have checked the trap sooner.”

“Or you should have,” she retorted. He grunted but said nothing.

“So, school is done?”

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Go to bed,” he replied with a chuckle.

She snorted. She did appreciate the warmth of the chamber. He placed a blanket over her shoulders. She felt gratitude.

He went back to sort the catch just as Ben returned. Ben gave her another kiss and then she tiredly told him about her day. He sat across from her and listened to every word, something she deeply appreciated and treasured.

===@===