The shape of things to come

One of the good things about writing science fiction is that I can just make stuff up. The down side is that I'm not really that good at it.

Echo is set something like seven or eight thousand years in the future but, leaving aside the spaceships, it's not that different from now. A couple of chapters ago, Echo shot somebody with what is effectively a Glock Model 18, she wears clothes that wouldn't look out of place now (OK, the jumpsuits would probably need to hide in 1982), and, until recently, reusable spaceships went up and down to orbital platforms. The world / galaxy of Echo is reasonably recognisable.

I've got round this in a couple of ways. I mentioned the war with the artificial intelligence race, which effectively bombed humanity back into the dark ages and a lot of their technology was presumably lost and they had to start again. Also, different planets have different technology levels. At first I presumed that all planets in the Empire would have the same level, but then I realised how dumb that it. I live in a house with electricity, central heating, and reliable utility supplies (although crap Internet speeds) and, in some parts of the world, people live in dwellings made of corrugated metal and plastic sheeting. Economics is likely to be no different across the Sleeper Empire. The world of Sangekar, which was resource poor, wet and mountainous, invested fabulous amounts of its meagre coffers in bringing in the best software technology and has prospered, although the taxis are still motorised rickshaws. Asimov, the capital, has unsupported bridges that span kilometres although, to avoid having to design a futuristic city, I set my two scenes on buildings that were old.

How quickly does stuff change? I don't watch Heartbeat, but the world of the 60's isn't that different. Their cars were small and poxy, their telephones were few and far between, and computing involved either your fingers or a pencil and paper. But they had cars, they had phones and they had a couple of computers in a building in Manchester. It's not really that different. Everything is smaller and faster and more reliable (apart from the Internet here), but has it really moved on so far?

It's not just me that struggles to see the future.The Head of IBM famously (supposedly) thought the world would need only a handful of computers. From where I sit I can see four and that's not counting the myriad ipods and smartphones.

It's my ambition to write steampunk, but the level of imagination and detail needed is probably far beyond me. For now I'll stick with Echo.

The difficult second album

Echo had a couple of themes ; the conflict between duty and desire, and the need of an outsider to belong. Although the characters kept going off and doing their own thing, I always had a framework that I could come back to, just by asking "What is this book about?"

You often hear bands talking about the difficult second album. They've got shed loads of songs left over from the first album, but they want the next to be recognisable, but to have progressed. Echo was intended to be a stand alone novel but, somewhere along the way it turned into a trilogy. I had a story line, focussing on the search for the lost Visionary Ship, the Clarke, but no real idea what the book was actually about.

That's not the only problem with a second book. Starting out involves introducing the characters and getting to know them. The third book will bring everything together with some big battle scene and a final resolution (and we -I include myself in that - will find out what happened and who survived). But the second book risks being just the journey from the start to the end. 

I suspect this is not unique. Look at Tolkein's Lord of the Rings trilogy. I think LOTR is a fantastic story, well written, which is one of the few books that I have read which induced a real sense of dread and uncertainty over the outcome. But the middle bit? Oh, get on with it!

I've just completed chapter 14 of Clarke and it's been a bit of a slog. Partly it's that Echo has been so well received that expectations are high and there's a lot of pressure to make it as good, which I'm not sure I'm doing. But also, I've not been sure what the book is about, other than the bit between the start and the end. There have been fun bits. Woz won a competition and got a cameo which I've just done and she's quite pleased with. And I'm in the middle of a big fight and Echo has just rammed her knife into somebody's thigh, severing their femoral artery and getting covered in blood for her trouble.

But today I figured out my theme. It's going to involve a rewrite of several early chapters but, perhaps the difficult second novel isn't going to be so difficult now I know what the book is actually about.

Word Up!

Chapter 14 is turning out to be a lot of fun. I'm going to put in a couple of jokes which suggest my characters have seen a film set a long time ago in a galaxy far away, plus there's going to be a fight in a bar.

There is one interesting difficulty. It also includes a cameo role for somebody I know. She won the competition to decide which of the covers I should choose for E1 and the prize was to appear in E2. When I'm writing an imaginary character I can describe them how I like and make them say and do what I want. With a real person, there's less flexibility and I don't really want to offend anybody by making them mad, bad or dangerous to know (presuming that they're not).

So, Wozzer gets her fifteen minutes of fame. Hope she likes it.

Running around with guns

The doors slid apart. I held my breath, looked down the barrel of my pistol and waited.
Nothing.
Thirty metres down the corridor, the airlock hatch to my ship stood open. Cavendish waited for three beats, long enough for anybody in hiding to come out of cover.
“Acre.”
Immediately Acre was moving, swinging her weapon to the left to cover the first cross corridor. Livingston was next, the soles of her shoes making hardy more noise than Acre. As she was left handed, she covered the right hand side.
“York.”
I pushed off from the wall and ran, following the first two Bad Girls through the airlock and into the circulation space on deck seven of my ship. I expected to see bodies on the floor; marines from the Stobo assigned to guarding the connection to the citadel class.
“Permission to come aboard?”
“Permission granted, Captain.” Replied Gregory.
“Report.”
“The engineers are on board and the power plant is on-line.”
“That was quick.”
“The flight officer lost the key to the sealing mechanism a couple of nights ago.”
“Where are the guards?” Asked Cavendish.
“They got called away by the Captain of Marines.” She held up a small comms unit.
“Interesting. Tell us later about all the people you had to sleep with. The rest of my crew?”
“Cromwell and Hall are bringing the command crew through the forward airlock. We lost track of Chakrabarty. Nansen’s gone back to find him. And I don’t kiss and tell.” Gregory stepped back into the airlock and fired two rounds down the corridor. “We’ve got company.”
Acre trotted back from the weapons locker carrying weapons and ammunition. She passed them out to the other three Bad Girls and they took up a defensive position facing out through the airlock.
I activated the intercom. “All stations, report.”
“Engineering, three crew, power plant on-line. We’ll have drives and main systems in approximately thirty minutes.” Dodd; the most chatty of the three engineers.
“Give me a ten minute warning.”
“Yes, sir. Engineering out.”
“Hemingray on deck one. Pearce and Ash in tow. On the bridge in one minute, critical systems on-line in ten.”
“Let me know when they are. I’ll be on channel one.”
“Understood. Out.”
We would have an operational ship in thirty minutes. The citadel was locked to the Stobo but there were emergency procedures we could use that would force the docking clamps to release us. Getting away was another matter. We would be in range of the Stobo’s weapons long enough for them to reduce us to molten slag and, if the reconnaissance group was carrying enough fighters or fast attack boats, they could do the same.
The weapons locker had other equipment. I took a comms set and linked it with my implant, then selected channel three.
“Cromwell?”
“Cromwell on three.” I smiled. I could rely on my troops to find weapons and comms sets as a matter of priority.
Two rounds entered through the open hatch and put a hole in the partition to the EVA suit locker. We’d need to check all the suits for damage later. I filed it onto the implant. Livingston responded with several short bursts from her flechette rifle.
“Lights going out.” Called Cartier. She trotted over to the locker and selected a new weapon. From the length it was either a plasma rifle or a long-barrelled large-calibre rifle. Cartier was my main sniper so I presumed the latter. She had turned the lights off so she could fire down the corridor without being seen. In the dim glow from the emergency markers I could see her hitch up the skirt of her sari then kneel and bring the weapon to her shoulder.
“Cromwell, I need you and Hall to gear up in standard marine kit.”
“Are we going back out?”
“Yes.”
“Received. We’ll be ready in five.” She didn’t bother to ask why and complain about the danger.”
“Belay that order. Get down to deck seven immediately.” Interrupted Cavendish. ”I’ll go out with York.” I sighed, but there was no point in arguing with Cavendish.
Cromwell and Hall arrived in less than a minute. In that time Cartier had fired three rounds and, from the noise levels from outside the ship, achieved three hits. Gregory and Acre were in the airlock, protected by the outer hull but positioned where they could fire down the side approaches. Cromwell and Hall found the best place to add their firepower to Cartier’s. Our position was secure against an assault with small arms but once they got organised they would bring sonic emitters or grenade launchers into play

I followed Cavendish and Livingston down to the assault deck where the main armoury held the ship’s largest supply of weapons and military equipment. Quickly we dressed in standard Imperial Marines uniforms and armour.
“What are we going back out for?”
“The Empress.”
Cavendish considered this. “We’ll never get near her.” She started to select her equipment. I looked at the racks and took half a dozen ammunition packs, then clipped as many grenades and diversion devices to the body armour as I could fit.
My implant activated as the comms set received a transmission. “Hemingray to York. Bridge systems are up and running.”
“Received. I need a download of the Stobo’s deck plan and security systems. Tell Pearce to intercept their communications and direct us. We’ll also need to know what Ladywood’s intentions are.”
“Understood. She’s already got the plans. Ash will be Zero.”
“Received.” I switched the set to channel zero.”
“Cavendish to Zero.”
“Zero, receiving.”
“Can we get back through the airlock on deck one?”
“Negative. There’s a full squad of marines up there and we’ve sealed our outer hatch. You need to fight your way out from the main lock.”
“Understood.”  I took an extra pair of smoke grenades from the rack.
The other Bad Girls looked so incongruous in their brightly coloured clothes and assault rifles.
“Listen up.” called Cavendish. “We need to hold an outer perimeter otherwise they’ll start bouncing RPGs around.”
“They’ve got a rotary launcher already.” Said Cartier. She paused to sight her weapon and fire another round. “Don’t trip over it.” I glanced down the passageway. "Or the marine who was carrying it." There were two or three bodies in sight.

I've been expecting you, Mr Bond

What makes a good villain?

I've been beta reading something recently and one of my constructive criticisms was that the characters I perceived to be the bad guys just didn't cut it for me. Their motivation was around climbing the corporate ladder and getting their own back on people who had spited them previously.

Should a villain be evil? Evil isn't that interesting. True evil is sad little men finding themselves in positions of power and murdering millions of people through the application of bureaucracy. Who was the most evil character in Star Wars. It wasn't Darth Vader, it was Grand Moff Tarkin who blew up an entire world. Nor is evil attractive (to those of us that consider ourselves to be sane).  The moors murderers have been in the news a lot this week and nobody can consider them anything other than abhorrent. 

Do we need a villain? Writing courses talk about the antagonist. The person whose sole purpose in the story is to place barriers in the hero's path and potentially be the source of threat. Does the antagonist need to be a villain. In Echo the main antagonist is trying to kill York and those around him, but their motivation is as much about preservation of the Empire rather than personal gain, spite, underlying character flaw or psychopathic tendencies. If you want to judge, then remember that York is responsible for something in the reason of 50,000 deaths on the nineteen ships destroyed by the Nemesis during the war and Echo cheerfully murders her way through the entire book. In Echo 2 I'm starting to work up a couple of antagonist characters but both are honourable, honest, professional people with great integrity. If the book was written from the point of view of the Realm, they would be the heroes and Echo and York would come across as monsters.

In most books an antagonist of some kind is necessary. Until they're dead/ imprisoned / exiled/ rehabilitated then there's no closure. But I've concluded that they don't need to be evil. They do, however, need to have a clear reason for being the bad guy and, if possible, they need to be interesting.

Cats are optional

How do you comfort the grammar police?

Give them a big hug and say "Their, there, they're."

I've been reading the hard copy of Echo and the typos are just flying off the page. I went through the e version, then printed it out and went through it again, although to save trees it was two pages per side, so it wasn't that big.

Everybody says you should get a professional editor to avoid these things but something like that would have been a massive outlay when i didn't expect it to get read by more than a handful of people.

A few people have expressed an interest in buying the actual book. It's slightly embarrasing when people are shelling out a couple of quid, but the paperback is £7.99 on Feedareed.com. If people want the book i'm going to have to go through it, make all the changes and upload it again. I can also re-upload to Kindle and list it for free for a week so that people who bought it can download a copy without all the mistakes (including one use of the wrong sort of their (there, they're). Not that i mind, but it's not as much fun as writing Echo2.

Having said that, Echo2 isn't much fun at the moment. I've just finished chapter 3 but there's a pressure for it to be as good as the original. Self imposed pressure, but still real. Echo was never meant to be read which allowed me to write whatever i wanted. I'd like to write E2 with the same freedom, but i don't think that's going to happen. I now understand the difficult-second-album syndrome that effects bands.

Does it matter if E2 is rubbish? Not in the grand scheme of things, no, but a remarkable number of people have said very kind things about Echo and i don't want to disappoint them with a disappointing follow up.

Anybody else have this problem?

A man with a plan

I'm 10,000 words in and i'm feeling much more positive about Clarke (Echo 2). Feedback from E1 was that the relationship between York and Echo was an important part of the content. I've figured out where this is going to go and why (it's going to get a bit rocky). i've also got a sub plot - part of one of the ongoing/ unresolved threads and a few scenes that add a bit of colour and are going to be fun to write, even if they don't move the story on.

I'm not sure how Clarke is going to finish although i've got a few scenes from the climax in my head. i have decided that not all the crew of the citadel will make it. I lost Bruekner in E1 but he was really just a cardboard cut out. This time it's going to be somebody that we've got to know.

Here's a question. I'm going to continue the alternate York  /Echo view point, but i'm wondering if some of the others should get a chapter every now and again. I'd be interested in whether you think that  would work. All comment welcome.

Right, back to chapter three

Rough and ready - Echo 2, chapter 1

Chapter 1

York

“Three contacts on intercept course.” Called Pearce. “Probable missile attack.”

She called out a bearing. Coming in from behind. Probably the best news I could hope for now. I glanced at the engineering screens; the drives weren’t online yet. I touched the intercom.

“Keyes…”

“I know! Thirty seconds.” The transition from AltSpace was always the most dangerous. The manoeuvring drives were offline and the turbulence meant we were blind for several minutes. I’d destroyed three enemy battleships by being in the right place whilst they were helpless.

I looked up at Pearce. “Impact on our current position in forty seconds…mark.” She informed us. We would be moving, increasing the time to impact and the distance the missiles had to travel.

“Where’s the launch platform?” Somewhere there was a vessel that had fired on us. The fact they’d used missiles suggested it was quite a small ship with limited capacity energy weapons, probably a defence / interceptor or small escort ship rather than something the size of a colonial cruiser. It was unlikely that the missiles had Tnuke or halide isotope warheads but, if they did, a single hit or close proximity explosion would be the end of us. I wasn’t prepared to take the chance.

“Haven’t pinned it down yet.” Pearce was working through numerous wavelength scans to try and find the attacker. Ash’s fingers were dancing over his controls. I knew, without asking, that he would be activating the ship’s weaponry, both the defensive and offensive systems. For the moment there was nothing else to be done. Standard procedure was to seal all internal hatches during transition and Hemingrey, my first officer, had announced the close contacts over the internal comms system as soon as Pearce had identified them, and the rest of the crew should be making preparations for damage control. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the screen of one of the secondary stations that ringed the bridge. Lights were changing from red to green to red as the Bad Girls descended from their quarters on deck five to the armoury on deck eight where their armour and weapons were stored.

“Cavendish, join up with your team. Suit up then check out the passengers on the cargo deck.” Ordered Hemingray. I knew that Cavendish wouldn’t be happy, but I didn’t have time to do anything as Keyes’ voice came over the intercom at the same time as a line of indicators on my board turned green.

“Drives up, drives up.”

“Acknowledged.” Responded Hemingray as I pushed the throttles forward smoothly and slowly to avoid damaging the drives, reaching maximum acceleration of 40m/s/s over ten seconds.

The hatch opened with a hiss of pressurised rams and Dryden ducked under the leading edge, sliding into the helm seat as I slid out of the other side. Freed of pilot duties I could concentrate on responding to the threat.

“All yours.” Said Cavendish. I had my back to the hatch but could guess what was taking place. Before I could check, Pearce announced her success.

“New contact, twenty thousand klicks, same bearing, broadcasting Imperial naval ID. Four hundred tonnes interceptor. She’s changing to a predictive intercept course.”

If they’d attacked at twenty thousand kilometres it was touch and go whether we could outrun the missiles. I glanced at Hemingrey and she confirmed my suspicions with a nod towards Ash. He saw the gesture. “Stand by… weapons systems fully charged and deployed. Targeting radar and lidar active and ready.”

“Fire at will, Mr Ash.”

“Sir.”

“Miss Pearce, make sure that ship’s alone.”

“Sir.”

I turned towards the hatch. Cavendish had gone and now Echo was standing in her place. “Are we in the shit again?” She asked.

“No more than normal.”

She grinned in reply.

“Sir, I’m picking up a carrier wave from the attacker.” Called Pearce.

“Are they hailing us?”

“No, I think the missiles might be under control. They could take evasive action.”

“Take them down before they get much nearer, please, Mr Ash.”

“Tracking. Firing. One target destroyed.”

“Fifteen seconds to impact.” Cautioned Pearce. The missiles were near enough for us  to follow their tracks on the screen.

“Tracking. Bollocks!” muttered Ash. The missiles had started weaving.

“Pearce, contact them, find out what the hell they’re playing at.” Echo stepped into the ring of control stations.

I held out my hand. “One Captain on this ship.” So far this mission had been uneventful and I’d grown lax. But in a situation like this I demanded a clear line of command. I was captain and Hemingray was first officer. I respected Echo’ opinion but the crew had to know who to listen to and obey. Confusion had caused the loss of many ships. We could argue about it later but, right now, I had other things to worry about.

“Two targets destroyed.” Called Ash

Pearce glanced at me, looking for clarity after Echo’s instructions. “Not yet. I don’t want to give anything away.” I glanced at Echo and pointed to one of the secondary control stations. “Sit. Shut up.”

“New contact, bearing zero five by zero five. Range, fifty thousand kilometres”  said Pearce. Almost directly ahead.

“Maintain course.” I glanced at the screen. “As quick as you can, Mr Ash.” The last missile was almost upon us, but was using evasive manoeuvring. It delayed impact, but made it difficult to hit.  That was Ash’s problem. I was concerned about the new contact.

“Report, Miss Pearce.”

“Picking up stray transmissions from the ship ahead. Naval codes. Looks like a Destiny class colonial cruiser, on a similar track and accelerating at standard by one.”

“Final missile destroyed!” Shouted Ash

Hemingray’s hands slid across her station as she performed some calculations. She glanced up.

“We can evade but we’ll need to turn right now.”

 “It’s a modified Curtis trap.”  Declared Pearce. “I’m picking up faint returns to starboard.” The Curtis trap was one of the Navy’s piracy interception manoeuvres. With an aggressive gunship pushing us away from the gas giant that was our destination and a powerful ship in front of us, most captains would run sideways and try and evade the enemy, running into a second blockade that would be waiting outside normal scan range. Space was unimaginably huge and groundsiders thought that starships could travel freely but the laws of physics were difficult to oppose and the trap was remarkably effective. Starships jumped into real space in front of a planet’s orbit and allowed it to catch up with them. The Curtis trap pushed targets out of the orbital path. Most turned towards the system’s star and towards more, waiting, gunships. A small number would turn against the spin but, having gone wide enough to avoid the initial trap, making orbit could be difficult, particularly a high mass gas giant.

“Modified?” I asked. My expertise was fleet to fleet battles. Pearce had been a senior lieutenant on a colonial cruiser and had been involved in plenty of Curtis traps.

“Evasive track missiles. In a standard trap the initial attack is meant to scare the shit out of the target, not blow it out of the system. Those three were meant to do some serious damage.”

Modified or not, the Curtis trap wouldn’t work today. The majority of starships were less than five hundred tonnes and lightly armed. We were large and heavily armed and could take on warships the size of the colonial cruiser with the expectation of winning. But not right now.

“All stop.”

“All stop.” Confirmed Dryden.

“Rotate one hundred and eighty.”

“Half rotation, aye.” We were going to take the fight to the interceptor. Bow forward, Ash could bring all ten laser turrets to bear and create a screen that would protect us from more missiles.

“Set course for the first contact. We’re going to go head to head and see who blinks first.” Nobody ever turned to face a Curtis trap. The small interceptor would have a relatively inexperienced lieutenant in command and In a few moments he was going to more trouble than he’d experienced since the academy combat simulator. “Warm up the Vulcan cannons.”

“If those are naval ships, just declare the ship as being on Commission business.” Proposed Dryden. “We can avoid a fight.”

I glanced at Echo. She shook her head. “We were attacked without provocation and, more importantly, without a challenge. This wasn’t standard naval protocol and I don’t think declaring as the Commission is necessarily going to help.”

I agreed. “Negative.” I opened the intercom. “All hands, prepare for combat. All stations report in.”