-SALOON AT THE EDGE OF EVERYWHERE-
Chapter One
He, and I call him a he but he really isn’t, liked how the bubbles glinted in the harsh overhead lights. And there was the squeaky sound as his tentacle tips wiped around the rim of the wine glass that seemed somehow to sooth his troubled spirit.
She, and I call her a she because she was oh so definitely a she, in the way that only some human females can be a she, sat on a stool behind ‘him’, and watched as ‘he’ oh so gently washed the last trace of lipstick from the edge of the glass and held it up for inspection before rinsing it and placing it beside the others in the drying rack. Her name was Candybar Venezuela, which derived, so she claimed, from the fact that her dirt-poor mother had traded her to a Catholic nun for adoption for the price of one candy bar in the country of Venezuela back on earth. Whether this story was true or not, that was indeed the name she carried on her identity documents, and in all the computer records kept on her anywhere, as near as anyone who cared to look could tell.
Like her name, she was both sweet and warm, and she loved the Warlord wholeheartedly.
The Warlord was unable to return this love on any level, but it did not bother him. In fact he thought he might even enjoy it, and was surprised to find that he had begun to harbor a certain protective urge toward the human female.
How strange, he thought. Would I defend her like some forgotten outpost castle? He put these thoughts aside and picked up another glass. But he also let the eyes facing the sink fade out of full focus and paid more attention to two of his eyes on the side of his body facing the girl. His thoughts mulled as he watched both the work he was doing and the slim figure sitting near him.
How unlikely humans look, he considered briefly, and what possible interest could she have in him anyway? But again he felt a tiny pang of a warm feeling, such as he might have felt for a loyal war beast. Such as he used to feel for his long dead biter. Not affection, perhaps, but more than mere acceptance.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked suddenly.
He nearly dropped a soapy plate so startled was he. Did she read feelings as those annoying Qualm were able to do? He managed to stumble onto the same answer that male humans had evolved after careful millennia of consideration.
“Nothing” he muttered out of one of his vertical mouth slits facing her.
Candybar snorted. She seemed no more inclined to accept that answer than if it had come from a male human but she did not press the point.
Two Bats scurried by, chirping excitedly back and forth in their own language. She gave them a friendly wave.
“Good day, your Highness, and to you Baron,” she said with a smile. Small black- clawed hands waved back in unison.
“Good day, Candybar” squawked the Prince and the Baron together in harsh sounding but genuinely friendly Standard English. Everyone liked Candybar. But they did not slow their hen-like strides as they passed on through the scullery area.
He refocused three sink-facing eyes and kept the girl only in the partial focus of one other. Likewise he tried to unfocus his thoughts, drifting off from the notion that she was a nice enough kid for a human, and kid she truly was to a being that measured its life in eons. He tried somewhat successfully to keep his mind on the task in which the smallest divisions of his tentacle tips were involved, but removing tiny bits of organic matter from a variety of eating implements and utensils did not require a vast amount of mental concentration.
“Want me to help?” she broke the silence suddenly. The vent above him also took this moment to intrude, letting out a loud clank followed by a tortured groan as cool air tried to wiggle out through the clogged arteries of the Hub.
“That is not required,” he rumbled, even while wondering if that had sounded curt or even rude. He was no linguist, by the suns, nor did he feel that he had an overly firm grasp on the intricacies of human behavior. They were such vexing creatures, such an unending flood of emotion and chaos. Once he might gladly have smitten the humans with the flaying fury of the Combined Fleet’s heavy gun broadsides…but that thought flitted by like a ving-wasp. Those days were gone, and all for the better he found himself stating out loud within the silence of his own mind. One or two of his mouth slits let out a sputtering exhalation, as close to a sigh as one of his kind was ever likely to get.
Candybar laughed delightedly. “You sound just like a horse.” She had a habit of putting a hand in front of her mouth when she laughed, as though she were ashamed of her teeth, though her teeth were fine and white, and her smile lit her face.
What, by the ancient seas of home, those glorious rolling and shifting plains where his ancestors had mastered sky and storm, sail and gun, was a horse?
A new character ambled through the kitchen and approached the dishwashing station. He was a human, and he was a he, male in the earthian sense, though perhaps not a particularly impressive example of either maleness or humanity.
He became more purposeful as he came nearer, altering his customary lazy but quick stride for a parade ground march-step. Three paces from the sink his knee came up as he stopped abruptly, stamped a foot down, snapped his heels together, came to rigid attention and gave a fine British army salute, elbow out, palm forward, his forearm giving just the slightest quivering bounce.
“How’s it hangin’, Warlord?” the new arrival said with a straight face. “Still doing battle with the insidious forces of filth and grime?”
How is what hanging, the dishwasher began to ponder? But that question was immediately thrust aside by an overwhelming sense of unease. His view of the sink seemed to zoom forward as if he were adjusting a long range scanner on a bridge consol. He felt as if he were flying forward in a fast recon craft, tracking rapidly to hover just above the towers of suds and dishes. Spread out below him he saw each tiny bubble. For a horrifying moment the glistening spheres did indeed seem to be marshaled armies, marching forward to storm the towers of stacked flatware, to slaughter each smear of grease and spot of mustard. Here a bit of gristle sold its life dearly, bursting tiny warriors by the score before being at last overwhelmed. There a fleck of some green vegetable slowly disappeared beneath the ravaging onslaught of bulbous heroes in sparkling armor. His conditioning made him momentarily nauseous. This sparked a flash of anger which only made him feel worse.
He sought the calming mantras, controlled his breathing, and pictured a calm sea in triple moonlight. He let out another snort.
Candybar laughed gaily.
“Hello, Rufus,” said the Warlord. All well and good to be polite, though there had been a time when he would have enjoyed sending this particular human to his information gathering specialists. But no sense dreaming and he put the idea aside as well.
At that moment, and many other moments as well, unbeknownst to any present, a marvelous and awesome event occurred. It was an event so rare that it is safe to say that it never quite happened before, and most likely would never occur again, and yet only a bare handful of sentient beings were even aware of it, or ever would be. Those few who were aware, those beings with the ability to see or travel through all the multitudes of timelines and alternate realities, each took note with varying levels of interest and intensity.
In this one brief instant, in every single parallel existence where they existed and where it was possible, the same three figures, two humans and a Xxo, all said and did what they all said and did. A moment that had to happen everywhere and everywhen. There was no overlap or slippage. No divergence. No hiccup or stray hair out of place. A perfect nexus point in the time streams. A Big Bang of the timelines woven into the very fabric of the cosmoses. A point where the threads of time came back together as the strands of a vast spider web all converge and anchor below the spider at the center.
Who could say how or even if this event affected any of the participants, or those near by, or even anyone at all ever? But these three beings all at once seemed to be a central turning point of momentous happenings. It remained to be seen whether they would stay in the quiet eye of the storm of forces coalescing around them, or whether they would be swept away as flotsam and jetsam on the churning seas of fate.
In that timeless moment, if I may be allowed such an inelegant term, Candybar continued to gaze wistfully at the Warlord, wondering if she were doomed to only have real feelings for men, as she continued to think of the Warlord, who could not or would not return her love.
Rufus stood with a smile on his face, enjoying his little joke on his fellow employee. Rufus thought himself to be quite clever. One of the empathic Qualm sort of floated by, by which I mean he was walking in that strange lighter-than-air way they have, his lower tendrils dragging the floor like the tentacles of a jellyfish in a shallow earthly sea. Rufus turned to nod at the radiant and yet still somewhat repulsive creature as it glided by on its ghostly way, then turned back to the Warlord’s tall form. Though he had met several of the Xxo in his time on the Hub, he still found them to be fascinating, and the Warlord was the most fascinating of them all. There was something almost stately in their movements and postures, a sort of natural regal bearing. They had a certain grace and elegance. And they could be more than a little intimidating as well.
“Rufus, my boy,” boomed a loud voice. It belonged to a short and rather pudgy fellow with a crown of curly reddish hair surrounding a large bald spot, a curious combination that gave the man the unfortunate look of the love child born of a Franciscan Monk and a circus clown.
His name was Fernando Finalis, Professor Fernando Finalis, and he was perhaps even a less impressive version of the human male than was Rufus, who at 6 feet 4 inches in height was tall for a male human. The professor topped out at nearly a full foot shorter, while carrying about the same weight.
Rufus, being 50 years old, always secretly delighted in being called ‘my boy’.
“I have some interesting new information which I fear will cause me to alter the entire opening of my book,” said the historian all in a rush. The professor was involved in compiling ‘The Complete History Of Everything’. This was the somewhat grand title of his masterpiece, and perhaps slightly misleading as well, as it dealt with humanity’s history only in so far as it related to other life in the universe.
“Our history has been written,” he was fond of saying. “If anyone cares to read it, let them go to the library.”
“If I am interpreting this new data correctly,” the historian sputtered on, “our big bang theory was no one-time event. There is a bang, and the universe expands, and then it stops expanding and begins to fall back on itself, reaches critical mass, and explodes again. It is like the great beating heart of everything. Then some multi-dimensional beings, who survive the bang by dropping into some otherwhen where the bang is early or late, re-seed life back into the forming planets. They do this every time, and they have been doing it forever, or near as makes a difference. They reintroduce life back into the cosmos, so they are the true gods in many ways. And the only reason they do this is to liven things up, no pun intended, and to have something to watch. But this seeding of life follows a pattern, and we, I mean we humans, do not fit into the pattern. Do you understand what I am saying to you, Rufus? We may be the first unseeded life to evolve naturally, on our own as it were. I don’t suppose anybody but me knows about this.”
And me, thought Rufus.
“It explains why we are so different, so wild; I mean we actually are wild.” The professor broke into a slightly crazed chuckle. “Oh, and on a side note, my boy, it turns out that there is more truth to your theory about the milk than I at first was willing to give credit.” Here the professor cast a scrutinizing look towards Rufus.
Rufus shrugged. “Just a lucky guess, professor.” For years, since before the aliens ever came to Earth, Rufus had been making the joke that to most races, holding another species captive and forcing it to give up its milk to feed to yourself and your children was inherently sick and wrong. That there was a general intergalactic taboo towards this sort of behavior, and mankind’s relationship with cows was bordering on unwholesome. Well, it was supposed to have been a joke.
Pouring My Art Out 
Well, I am amazed and stunned by this. Should have got to it earlier. Love the language – excellent writing. Love the humour, and the dryness of it (especially the cow/milk bit). And I truly adore that you actually engaged in the plot in the first chapter, by having something happen. Only think I would do is chop out a couple of the opening paragraphs and get things moving even quicker. This is a good read – I am looking forward to reading the rest. That smack of bizarre yet believable while in the presence of humour is such a rare combo.
I think I love you…
Come on! Seriously man, this is well written and it is funny! You do need to consider getting this published if you haven’t already. I think there would be a market for this and publishers willing to take it on. I sense a cult classic in the making actually.
Part of my evil plan to take over the world is to get this published. I hope to use my vast number of hits on my chapters, and comments like this one… of which I need more… to use as bait for publishers. (I got that idea from the ‘Idiot’s Guide to Getting Published’. Thank you.
My pleasure. Only write what I think, it’s the rule.
That is an awesome rule. I try to do that… without the thinking part…
You make me laugh. Such humour my friend… be published, soon.
Thank you so much.
I have only read the first chapter, but I am intrigued enough to peruse more. The same thought occurred to me years ago that it would make sense for the universe to come back in on itself and then explode all over again. I’m not sure if I heard about it years ago or if I actually had an original thought. Have you thought of making the chapters a little easier to navigate, like putting a link at the end of the chapters to go straight to the next one?
If I was smart enough to do that, I wouldn’t be sitting here. I did try to put the book under one header, and the race and character notes in another one. I don’t know how to make it easier than that. But I am thrilled if you enjoy reading any of it.
Just a suggestion, but you could give it its own blog, like I did with my book. I gave each chapter a page. Seems to flow pretty well. You obviously are smart enough, it just takes a little research to get it down. You can check it out here to get an idea of what it would look like: http://forwantofastone.wordpress.com/chapter-one-grinder/
I will take a look. I sort of have my few readers used to my crazy way of doing things, but I do want it to be easy. Thanks.
Glad to help.
I am giving you a non virtual smile.
reads in quite a similar way to the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy so far. I like it, but i’m going to criticise one very very small thing. I was not expecting rufus to say ‘hows it hanging’ after his rather military like entry. but I guess it fits in with the rest of the humour 🙂 Oh and th bit with the cows at the end there is great.
Rufus just does that because he knows the Warlord is an ex military figure, as are most of his race. He isgently teasing him…even though he isn’t really a ‘he’…But he doesn’t know the full story untill later.
And I was going for a Hitchhikers type of style when I started. Very perceptive. It sort of evolved away from that later, but the elements are still there… the silly names, the silly irony, the unepected twist.
ah ok, that makes more sense with rufus now. You really have worked out the whole douglas adams style too-i’m impressed. Talking of which, if you haven’t already, see if you can find the old radio show of hitchikers guide that came before the book. Its actually even better…and in the book they miss out the section where arthur dent ends up on a planet where there is a statue of him throwing a giant cup. For some reason a type of bird people worship arthur…i can’t remember why, but it has something to do with him throwing a cup of tea at the heart of gold’s ship computer earlier on.
The main character of my story was originally named Arthur. It will all make sense… eventually…
My boy, if I may call you that, this was a pretty good first chapter. I like it because it established not so much the story as much as it does where the story might be headed. I think a lot of people get too confused in putting it out there right away.
You did a good job with this. I don’t really have any criticisms to give that wouldn’t make you write more like me if you took them to heart. There’s no real crutch words (overused words) that I noticed which I always pick up on from people. The only thing I might say was lacking was a bit more scene description. Not too much. I hate that. I think you might be able to squeeze a little more into this about what the place looks like. I only think this might be necessary because it’s the opening and we’re not really all too familiar with what this world you have created looks like. That’s my only suggestion and it’s not even a must.
Keep up the good work!
Well, the kitchen of the saloon doesn’t really play a big part in the story. I just picked a random place where I could have a few people and aliens doing boring jobs. Then I worked my way out from there.
okay, here we go…….:) i like it; i thought the ‘what, by the ancient seas of home, those glorious rolling and shifting plains where his ancestors had mastered sky and storm, sail and gun, was a horse?’ line was brilliant, and the idea that a big alien warlord has undergone some kind of cognitive behavioural therapy, just as good; it does need a bit of ironing out by some fresh eyes but the ideas and the delivery so far are good 🙂
Well, give me a chance. I agree there may be a few weird spots, but let the story start to grow on you. I have accepted that some editing may be needed, but I have some tricks to get around some of that.
don’t get me wrong; it was only nit-picking really, i have a feeling that anything that seems not to fit ay any point in the book will definitely come round eventually….i’m looking forward to it 🙂
Your faith in me is appreciated. But I do like the advice. I know there are rough edges. I was trying to cram a lot into the first few chapters… and I tend to ramble a little…
i understand the rambling only too well……and one really needs to see the book in its entirety before one starts chopping too much around, because you need to see where and how and when of course, it all fits
And it does end up fiting together, even though I never planned it the way it came out. I just made it up one sentance at a time.
if i was going to write one, it would be like that too; i’ve never been one for plot planning; just tapping at the keys with an idea in mind and see what turns up!
Sometimes I got stuck for a day or three, then the next part would just hit me. I invented characters and had no idea how important they would end up being. But creating a skeleton of plot and then just hanging the meat of the story on it would never have ended up being like this,
i think your way is both far more interesting to write and to read…..but i am biased…..
My first thought…I love how there are bats, even though they just flickered by for one split second.
The bats will be back…
Dear pmao,
I’ve just read this first chapter. I like it – a lot. I might come to love it when I’ve read more of the book – you know I love your humour.
I have to say some of it was a bit confusing and I had to stop reading and reread back, but it’s nothing a little editing won’t fix – I agree with Anonymous, a good editor won’t take anything away from your writing, they’ll just make it shine.
Love Dotty xxx
It starts off confusing on purpose. I don’t tell you anything about the characters until later. You have no context. It is supposed to feel like you just happened to be walking by and saw this group and stopped to watch them. And then start following them around. Explainations are on their way.
So when are you selling tickets for guided tours around your head?
I’ve never read any sci-fi so I can look at this with fresh eyes, and I’m fascinated, onto chapter 2!
Sorry took a few days to read, been a bit hectic.
I need a book in real form, I don’t think I’d ever get into e-books, and I don;t have a reader so I would struggle from the off. Wonder how much it costs to self publish a book? You’d look quite good being carried around in my satchel.
Oh, Joe, you sure know how to sweet talk a guy.
……….what Hotspur said….NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW….when I like something I have the bad habit of literally inhaling it or trying to in one fell swoop…I guess it is probably a good thing you do to ration it out like you are going to. Much healthier I suppose and anticipation is a nice feeling to have at times I guess. Now to be honest, I can see where there are a few places that you might benefit from a good editor but over all I’d have to say OUTSTANDING and SUBLIME!!!!! Truly. Not blowing smoke, really a good read and I can’t wait for more!
An editor… hand my baby over to a surgeon, you mean…
Sweetheart, a GOOD editor is not a surgeon. A GOOD editor is like a bonsai artist who selectively and thoughtfully prunes and snips and encourages growth in directions that produce the most beautiful astounding living breathing creations….your writing is the tree. It is beautiful all on its own. But a bonsai is something taken to a whole new level of beauty. xox
That was beautiful… now I feel bad about my little joke.
There were some wonderfully phrased poetic moments in chapter one that fed my brain some candy. I liked that, especially since I wasn’t overly famished for a hamburger or even a side salad.
That being said, I found myself wondering one thing…are you an alien?
You have obviously noticed my little trick… the narrator/story teller is indeed an alien… and since I wrote it… I guess that might suggest that I am one as well. Being adopted, I have always wondered why I am not like anyone else I ever meet, so it could explain a lot…
I have to snicker at the voice and accent you are using while you wrote that. It’s almost believeable. In fact, it brought back a memory of my childhood…I was lying in bed, and my mother was tucking me in. Finally, I could stand it no longer and I just said to her, “OK. That’s it. TAKE OFF YOUR MASK. I know you’re hiding in there…”
I’m still waiting for the big reveal…
Now I suppose my question to you is…do your kids know?
Hard to keep it a secret… they are half alien themselves…
You are very perceptive. I often do funny accents and voices when I am building a new character. I do it in my head when I write their dialog. Keeps them in character, so to speak. I also tend to do little doodly sketches of a new character so I can remind myself what they sort of look like. You are paying attention and give great feedback. Thank you.
Well, then…cheers. Here is an alien smiley face…
{:Y-
Hey… that guy is in the novel!
OMG no way!! Is he purple with three legs and an oversized eye-ball wart on his left garfunkle?
Are you sure you haven’t read this before? Except my guy has an oversized eye-ball wart on his left simon…
I must have read it before.
[awkward silence]
Only one question remains…
Am I an alien too?
We are all aliens to one degree or another. There is a theory that human were either seeded or at least heped to pregress by alien cultures. I play off this when the Professor starts talking about how we are the first race to evolve without help. We are the only ‘wild’ species. See, I sort of flipped it around. I do that a lot, too. It is totally an alien thing.
I see. So what I hear you saying is that you like flipping around. I think my therapist would find you most interesting…do you have one yet?
Not on this planet I don’t… Ha!
Yeah, smart move. Earth therapy is waaaaay to expensive.
They do not even use Korpuslian brain-sucker worms… you people are so primative.
Yeah, but primative can be kind of sexy.
Truer words have never been said…
LOL. I’m not sure why you are one of the only people who can make me laugh out loud. I think I need more friends. Or aliens.
It comes from being all art-side-of-the-brain… I can see ‘funny’. I can’t see logic, or reality.
Well, as long as you can see the whoopie cushion on your seat before you sit down at least you’ll avoid embarrassment. For a time.
Give me the next fucking chapter, right fucking now. Don’t wait, or I will kill you.
Also, I need to finish MY book, which has about 40k words in it. Unsurprisingly, it’s easier to write a 1000 word blog post about whatever the fuck my brain’s roulette wheel of thought lands on than to focus and force myself to write 1000 words about my little characters.
This is the effect you’ve had on me.
If I have to shame you into productivity, I will consider it my gift to the world.
Your gift to the world is your ability to
That got cut off… is this a multiple choice quiz? Do I fill in the blank? Or did your computer crash? Is it early onset senility?
That is a better response than I could have hoped for.
You mean, you thought my comment would completely and totally suck, but it only mostly sucked.
I don’t even care if you hate it. The fact that you would spend any time at all from your obviously fascinating life of taking pictures of clouds, listening to obscure music and picking out couches for your waiting room, to look at a bunch of words that I strung together is such an honor that I can hardly stand it.
See that’s a reason I waited until he post more than one chapter so I didn’t want to rip every last hair off of his body. Well no not really but hey, who needs milk for their coffee?
Transitions. Wow.
Well looking at my blog, I don’t know those.
H.H. You’ve got my attention and I’m not one for fiction much less sci fi so that’s saying something.
That means a lot… and that wasn’t sarcasm.
I will read this later. I don’t like you enough to read it now.
That is beneath you. But as long as you like me enough to read it later…
Fun stuff PMAO. Like Tessa said, it does sound more science fictiony than I typically read, but you are writing it very well, and I look forward to reading more.
It really is more about humans and how they deal with the changes the aliens cause, and some of it takes place on earth, in the Bay Area. It is all about making fun of the silly humans and the things we do.
You are good at that. I’m sure I’ll love it.
Thanks.
I am not a big SciFi fan, but this is interesting enough that I would want to read more of it. I saw on Hobble’s blog that you were planning on posting part of your book so I headed on over.
Thank you and welcome. It is high praise indeed if you liked it even though it isn’t your cup of alien tea. But it is mostly about humor… wih a big side helping of adventure, And I make fun of everything that humans do… and the French, I make fun of the French, but just a little. I hope you stick around.
Your welcome! It was a great read and I am following your blog now so I don’t miss anything else you post.
I must say I am both touched and honored.
I’m IN!!! This is nothing less than I expected. You ARE a writer first and foremost. Loved ALL of it.
Who knew the first definition of smitten didn’t have to do with romantic love?
I think it comes from the bible… the old testament god did a whole heap of smitting.
I also think you were the first to read the chapter… I am glad it was good for you, too… wink… blush…
Do you mind if I “Press” it, more readers that way maybe.
No… please don’t… I want this to be for my followers for now… and a few people who stumble in… Maybe later, and I appreciate the thought.
Gotcha, no offense taken. Maybe announce that somewhere or disable the Press button because I often Press without asking first.
Way ahead of you.
You flatter yourself.
I just meant that I am going to do a post that includes that subject. I have no idea how to turn off the tag button…. or whatever you said… I am that bad at this computer stuff.
I’d tell you how, except I’d have to do it before I could explain it and you don’t have that much time!
It is all so confusing.
Snaap! I am on my way out the door for some ‘back to school shopping’ so I don’t have time to read it now, but I will be back later!
Thanks to Jessica for convincing to put it up!
See ya! Get some donuts and coffee.