This was something I sort of started throwing together during Sketch Night week before last. So far it’s more of an exploration than a narrative. Will have to see how it goes.
Scrap – Aristophaneus
Jan 17
Sketch – Moriarty
Jan 13
Drawn at Sketch Night on Saturday. I needs to work on my impromptu sketching skills.
First day on the moon.
Jan 10
More ancient scraps. Most of the notebook I’ve been copying stuff out of is undated, but a poem on the ending page of this that I posted to LiveJournal around the time I wrote it gives this a terminus ante quem of September 29, 2005.
1 Aug
The trip to the moon was short and uneventful. I knew it would be—it’s just a routine shuttle, after all. Still, I was hoping for something special for my first time off the planet.
A circle of lunar humans off the ’port staff waited to greet us as we came out the gate. Most of them wielded video recorders in case any of the terrestrials wanted to say anything stupid. Souvenir discs of My First Words on the Moon go for €10.50. Nobody wanted to announce any giant leaps for Podunk today—all the other passengers were either lunars coming home or tired businessmen who’ve probably done the trip a thousand times. Me, of course, you’d never find doing anything so touristy.
The welcome committee soon dispersed after seeing no one really cared about being welcomed. I passed through the crowds and bound up the stairs to baggage claim. My muscles were used to hefting around a body six times heavier than I now weighed. I figured I’d better enjoy it while I could—I knew I’d be paying for it trying to lug around my pudge when I went home for the summer.
I got my bags and found my way outside. The dome above was darkened, indicating the fiction that was the lunar city’s night.
Right. I pulled my computer out of my pocket, uncrumpled it, and called up local time. Quarter to ten… fifteen minutes until there wouldn’t be anybody at the college to let me in. I pulled up gmaps and a compass and got directed to a bus line that went straight there.
The bus was empty. I stood and watched the city go by. Unlike the inside of the bus,… the city for the most part seemed clean and new.
I reached the university gates just a few minutes before closing. The gate guard pointed me to the dormitory, and I rushed to get in just before the doors locked.
Scrap – Mori
Jan 6
This is from an old notebook I’m in the middle of transcribing. In Nother, an astrode is a device similar to an orrery which allows for teleportation based on astrological principles.
Moriarty ascended the stairs of the ruined apartment. The thick air did nothing to obscure the golden light blazing from the attic room. He shaded his eyes as the room entered his view, and there as he had dreaded, stood the broken astrode.
—”How’m I sposta fix this?”
That doesn’t work.
I could barely see for the brightness, and my footpaws were damp and sticky from the pool of sunshine I was standing in.
How ’bout I start with this—
I ran back downstairs to find a pitcher. My footprints glowed in the dust. “Frotz,†I said.
I came back up and scooped up the most part of the sunshine. It was sticky and puddled together on its own, like mercury. The pitcher was about half-full when I was done.
I set it on the stand at the angle left by the tracks in the floor.
The band of planetary signs along the wall lit up.
“Oh crap,†I said.
I didn’t recognize any of the signs.
There were only five, laid out thus: 
I set up the stand with the moon that had fallen over, and crossed my fingers. Only one way out, and that by trying… I pulled the dusty globe and it began to reflect the beam directed from the pitcher of sunshine. The other moon had quite shattered, and I was thus left with three choices. , I thought, bad sign. The was too complex to— could be a distorted Mars…
Blake.
Jan 5
He tried to wave a waiter over, with no luck.
“Ah well,†he said, “Gives me some time to dry off. Have I ever shown you my sister’s music?â€
“You have a sister?â€
“Yeah, she’s beautiful, her name’s Island.†He reached in his pockets. “I have a clip of her singing, one moment…†He pulled out a phone, which was kind of damp-looking, but he still managed to get it turned on.
The hologram he pulled up was indeed of a beautiful red kangaroo, dressed in gray and black and white, standing in front of a microphone. A few puffs of smoke came up around her as she began to sing:
“When Jesus wept, the falling tear
in mercy flowed beyond all bound;
when Jesus groaned, a trembling fear
shook all the guilty world around—â€
The smoke was joined by a spurt of blue sparks, and the phone went dead.
Blake shut his eyes.
“That was amazing,†said a human at a table next to us. “I didn’t catch it in time, though—who is she? I’d love to download her.â€
“Her name’s Darker Island,†Blake said. “But you won’t find her, she’s L & L. You’d have to go to Blantyre.â€
“A Luddite, eh? I don’t even know where Blantyre is.â€
Blake didn’t answer. He picked up the phone and gave it a couple of smacks. It didn’t respond.
“L & L?†I said. “That’s awesome.†The Live and Local movement avoided globalization and the Net, creating their own microcultures instead. “She must be really close with you, to have let you make a recording.â€
“Yeah,†he said. “She was.â€
Scrap – Silk Rail
Jan 4
So as to avoid suspicion, I stayed the night at an inn, instead of fleeing immediately. I got up at dawn, paid my bill, and rode out of town before the alarm was raised. I figured they’d be holding up any ships from going downriver, so I headed for Sepouri to take a ship back to Karkedon.
I hoped to make it before anyone thought of closing the port—but I didn’t rush, because nothing makes people ask questions like seeing a wolf in a hurry.
I made it to the harbor some time after noon.
June 8, 2000 — The day Ralph and I changed places
“I stood in the rain on White Oak Hill. In the heat I was
getting soaked, clothes and fur, but I didn’t move…”
Finished the first part of Ralph’s story and posted it to the library and FA.
WIP – Frostbite
Nov 16
Another character from the Maltese Corsairs story, a sketch I started yesterday:
This picture.. or maybe just his garb, makes Frostbite look shorter and squatter than I imagine him, so I guess that’ll be something to work on in revision. He is in fact a tiger, though the shape of his face has caused rumors to spread that he’s part wolf. Another rumor is that his name was just ‘Frost’ until one day when he gnawed another man’s leg off in a fight. Somehow his generally gentlemanly demeanor tends to make people believe that story more than otherwise: that’s just the kind of thing a guy like him would do if he snapped, is bite another guy’s leg off. This, combined with his rank as first mate, pretty much ensures that no one will cross him, or indeed even approach him at all unless absolutely necessary.
I suppose that before piratical life his name was Giacomo.