“…we arrive at the lovely tourist planet of Xen’arthia. And… oh my god it’s been nuked back to the bedrock. That’s the third planet we’ve visited in a row! What’s going on?”
Something broke. That’s about the only way to describe it. About thirty years ago some underlying logic in our reality simply failed. Maybe we broke physics with the latest in bigger and brighter colliders, maybe god just died of loneliness. Whatever the reason, the immutable rules of cause and effect, the division between what the real and the imaginary, all seemed to begin to fail.
The dead don’t always stay dead anymore, you have to convince them. As for children, well let’s just say that there is nothing more terrifying than a child with an overactive imagination.
So just a few short lines before I’m lost to the void.
First, have a look at http://dailysciencefiction.com/hither-and-yon/slipstream/michelle-muenzler/an-act-of-consumption-in-two-parts Michelle Muenzler’s little abomination is an absolute joy to read.
After that little pallet cleanser, I thought I’d just let you know that I’m going to be a little more conservative in the posting for a while. I’ve finally finished mapping my way through the next two books, so have to get down and actually flesh them out. When I surface again there should be a trilogy (at least) ready for release.
It’s going to be fun swimming around in the murk of the unseen world for a while. Down with the undead hosts of parasitic gods, fratricidal half-fey, and lurking puppet masters who may (or may not) be trying to usher in Ragnarok.
So with luck, I’ll return from Dante’s Cafe no less sane than when I left, but a whole lot emptier. Just have to pour the stories out of me and glue them to the page with the written word. Wish me luck!
If it is one thing I’ve learnt from the movies, it is that when aliens invade they are either humanoid with superior tech or bug-like and easily squashed. I don’t recall seeing many movies about bugs with superior technology. Just another way that Hollywood softened us up and served us on a plate to our conquerors.
They were lobsters. We went to war against lobsters. Blue and green, crustacean from another world. Of course, they weren’t crustacean, or even from another world really. They came from here, just next door across a rift in time and reality.
It was bad enough that we were fighting for our lives against alien beings that weren’t even vaguely alien in origin. In all fairness, they had been on this world, well on a version of this world, for longer than we had. At some point something had changed, the chance evolution that had led to the dinosaurs and then to humanity, had never happened.
They had become the apex creatures of their earth, developing for millennia. They had developed tools before the evolution of the feather, and by the time we were working out the combustion engine, they had mastered dimensional travel. Then they decided they wanted our world before we ruined it completely.