Beyond Limits – Part 3
Today has gotten away from me in a huge way. Adjusting to a low-carb diet is not easy, nor is it without cost. It’s not a fun adjustment period (I’ve lost four pounds from yesterday to today), but once it’s over you’re gravy. It’ll take maybe a week, two at most, then I’ll be into diet proper and there will just be the standard ketosis issues to deal with.
As far as writing goes, I have a confession: I didn’t write beyond the blog yesterday. I lost a huge section of my time to dealing with tiny human (poorly) and to having a buddy of mine over. We got my streaming up and running effectively, and several other aspects of my professional career were battened down. It’s not a perfect process, but I will for sure be making up for it across the next two days. I have plans, I have goals, and I will not see them lost due to inaction.
I also had something else which gave me cause for thought. John Scalzi, a man who I am attempting to model my career after, had a huge release on his blog today. It was a fantastic look into the world of bitterness, and how easily it can strike a writer who hasn’t achieved ‘the expected success’. It’s definitely worth a read, so be sure to check it out.
From that post, I derived that there are some limits I’m not willing to go to in order to make my career work. I won’t devolve to blaming. I won’t engage in hate-mongering, and I will never engage in fake ‘click-bait’ tactics to increase readers or traffic. That’s just not how I work. That’s not how the men and women I admire work. So I’m not going to do it. Will that cost me in the short term? Absolutely. I’m taking the long game with my career however, and I refuse to sacrifice my late-term success for random short-sighted gains.
As far as Beyond Limits is concerned, I like what I’m building. A world built upon the suffering of another species is bound to have problems. I think it’s indicative of the human condition that we are willing to stomach such things for ‘gain’ or ‘profit’. Think slavery and persecution. Those favor one group by removing the rights of the other. It’s disgusting, when you think about it logically. The only reason anyone would defend it is because they are part of the system which is gaining privileges or wealth. None of those who were repressed or enslaved felt the system was functional.
I think that’s part of the long term goal with this story. I want to discuss privilege transfer, and the consequences thereof. Maybe it’s not necessary, according to some, but I think it’s highly relevant in a world where people are (still) actively denying specific groups rights, or demonizing others for personal or political gain. So long as that is the case, I will continue to write stories showing it. Sue me.
Without further soap-boxing…
Cary nal-Tensire
Beyond Limits – Part 3
The naglath knew what was coming as soon as Cary nal-Tensire woke it from it’s years long slumber. They all knew, somehow. The instant she had finished attaching the various instrumentation which would be required in order to hook the naglath into Sunchaser’s systems, the naglath had managed to rouse itself from it’s lethargy. It had not been pleased. Cary had sworn vociferously, as she had expected another few minutes to transport the cage to the engine pod. Now, she had an irate, hungry, and scared three meters of tentacles and teeth to deal with.
The crate containing the naglath thankfully had slits, so she hadn’t been required to remove the wurmling in order to get the various interfaces implanted. But Sunchaser was a ship designed for one. Sure, she had podlings which could help, but the small and squat green humanlings weren’t going to be useful now that the naglath was awake. The podlings grasp on fine motor skills was questionable, at best. As it was, all six of them stood looking blankly at the writhing, thrashing crate. The yowl of the wurmling contained within was deafening.
If the wurmling kept going, the other two would rouse from their induced slumber. This is going to backfire, horribly. The thought followed Cary to the wooden cabinet growing out from the wall of the nursery pod. It hounded her as she opened the cabinet, and wrestled one of the enormous canisters of compressed sap out of the cabinet. A canister containing the very blood of Yggdrasil itself. Her thoughts whispered doom to her as she rolled the canister over to the cage. The wurmling could smell or sense the canister’s contents. The crate could barely contain it’s wrath.
If I don’t get him to the pool in time… Such thoughts did Cary no good, so she finally shooed them away as she pumped some of the liquid into a bucket normally used to clean up the occasional waste ejected during the wurmling’s hibernation. She called out to the podlings, who lumbered over with the same vacant expression they had regarded the bucking crate with. “Each of you grab a canister of sap, and take it to the engine pod. Walk as fast as you can without endangering the crate our yourselves. Then, when you’ve arrived at the pod.. engine pod, that is… I want you to empty the canisters each of you are carrying into the wurm pool. Nod if you understand exactly what you have to do.”
A tense moment went by as the podlings translated her words into the incomprehensible language Sunchaser used, and in eerie unison, their heads bobbed in acknowledgement of her instructions. Cary let out a sigh of relief: it wasn’t a guarantee that the instructions would be translated correctly on the first attempt. It could sometimes take minutes of repetition to get it through their thick wooden skulls. The crate groaned and creaked ominously, reminding her that she didn’t have minutes.
With the podlings lumbering over to the cabinet, Cary turned her attention to the bucket. The wurmling was letting out a gale of howls in protest, fighting with every bit of it’s nutrient starved frame against what was coming. If it hadn’t already been in hibernation for several years, it would’ve broken it’s cage by now and rampaged so badly that Cary would’ve been forced to vaporize it. As it stood, if she couldn’t get the wurmling to drink some of the sap then she would be forced to vaporize it anyway to keep it’s siblings asleep. To do that, she would need a funnel.
She walked over to the two meter high workbench, slightly angled, and quickly dialed up power to the bench. The wooden surface rippled, indicating it was ready for fabrication. She quickly traced the outline of what she wanted with her finger, speaking at the same time to clarify the purpose of the device to the tree. Through the microphone embedded into the table, Sunchaser heard what she needed, and within moments the rippling surface of the table parted. A perfectly molded funnel broke the surface, pushing outward until it was hovering a few centimeters above the table.
Wasting no time, Cary snatched it out of the air, not even bothering to turn off the workbench. She dashed to the bucket, slopping sap slightly in her haste. She rounded the front of the crate, opening the front end even more. A hissing, snapping tentacle greeted her, all teeth and anger. She whipped her hand to her belt, and removed her energy pistol. She ratcheted the settings all the way down, and let go a point blank blast right into the tentacle. An even louder yowl issued forth from the crate, and Cary took that moment to strike.
The funnel flew through the hole, directly into the open, screaming maw containing rows and rows of teeth. The powerful jaws of the naglath closed with a snap, and several teeth hard as diamonds snapped off as they hit the yggwood and found themselves unequal to the challenge. Wasting no more time, Cary began pouring the sap down the funnel, while the wurmling worried at the funnel in rage and terror. The thrashing slowed, the fight leaving the wurm as waves of warm lethargy made their way down all three meters of the creature. At last, the naglath was still.
To be continued…
Sapfully,
Justin
