Victoria Silverwolf
Vegetarian Werewolf
[Here is the first part of the opening scene of a work in progress. I am aware that it ends suddenly, but I did not want to violate the guidelines for the length of an excerpt to be critiqued. The entire opening scene is about 1800 words; I'll post the second half after I get some feedback on this part.]
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REEF
Like a ghostly pearl larger than a human head, the holographic image of the unnamed planet floated in the middle of Curiosity's guidance chamber. Slarik lifted one massive arm above the projection. The dozens of delicate tendrils that served the Vrax as fingers wriggled over the planet, as if they could brush away its mysteries.
"Oxygen," Slarik said. Its voice was a quiet rumble, like distant thunder. "Water. No life."
Sorensen moved closer to the image, careful not to stumble in the low-g conditions of the guidance chamber. He blinked in the scarlet glare of the illumination panels which simulated the light of Slarik's homeworld. The chamber was hot, dry, and full of the oddly astrigent scent of Vrax.
"As far as we can tell from here," he said. "Sensors don't tell the whole story."
Hiroki leaned back and folded her hands. She seemed perfectly at ease working in an environment designed for hermaphroditic, pseudo-reptilian centaurs.
"True enough," she said. "Still, the evidence we have is convincing. All data are consistent with bare rock covered with empty seas. Common enough, if it weren't for that damn oxygen. That's a mystery."
Thrin shuffled its front legs as it examined the slowly turning image. Anxiety? Excitement? It was difficult to tell.
"Probes wished for," it said.
Sorensen tried not to smile at the grammatical confusion of his companion. Rarely did a human being master even a few words of any Vrax language, most of which had bewildering multiple cases for past, present, and future. Thrin and Slarik were far more intelligent than their stumbling use of Standard Simplified European might suggest.
"Bad," Slarik noted. "Much cost, little return." It touched the jeweled icon that hung around its thick neck on a ceramic chain.
Sorensen didn't understand all the intricacies of Vrax sociology, with its mixture of clan loyalty, religious faith, and rigid code of business ethics. It was obvious, however, that Slarik seriously disapproved of throwing good money after idle speculation.
Curiosity was a typical scout ship, designed to do a quick survey of a solar system after emerging from the disorienting chaos of flatspace. Carrying fully equiped probes would have been a foolish luxury, given the scarcity of planets that were more than stone or gas.
"So we go down and take a look." Hiroki passed her hand through the ghostly image. Points of light danced on her fingers like diamonds. She smiled slightly, as if daring the planet to hide its secrets from her.
"Agreed." Slarik backed out of the chamber without further discussion. Although Curiosity functioned as a rough democracy, the fact that Slarik's clan had provided the lion's share of funding made the elder Vrax first among equals.
Thrin continued to study the image. Its large silvery eyes, devoid of anything resembling irises or pupils, were impossible to read.
"Anomaly," it said. "Promising. Dangerous." Instead of simply walking backwards out of the chamber, Thrin turned until it was facing away from the image -- a challenging task for a six-limbed creature twice as heavy as a human. Sorensen wondered at the significance, if any, of this gesture.
"They don't fool around," he said. "We better get ready."
With a lazy half-salute Hiroki left the chamber, walking briskly toward her station. Sorensen wondered why a experienced flatspace navigator had chosen to work aboard a small scout ship, when her skills would have been welcomed anywhere in the Protectorate. Xenophilia, a sense of adventure, the willingness to wait years for a discovery that would make her filthy rich -- none of the usual explanations seemed to fit perfectly.
We are all aliens to each other. Sorensen made his way to his own station. He welcomed the change of light from blazing red to the cool yellow-white of Earth. The slightly stronger pull of simulated gravity, as he moved from the center of Curiosity to the periphery, was conforting. He strapped himself into his familiar chair, the winking monitors surrounding him like old friends.
"Approach begins." Thrin's familiar voice -- somehow gentler than Slarik's -- seemed to be coming from all around. Sorenson thought he could hear the whisper of ion jets, although they were supposed to be silent. He relaxed and closed his eyes for a moment as acceleration pushed him back into his seat.
"Feel like going for a swim, Jen?" The playfulness in Hiroki's voice brought him out of his reverie.
"Do I have a choice?" Sorensen glanced at his monitors. "The whole planet seems to be nothing but one big beach. Shallow oceans and countless tiny islands."
"Wet," Slarik said. "Like Earth."
Sorensen watched the planet approach on his viewscreen. The light of Epsilon Eridani, a shade more orange than the light of Sol, illuminated three-quarters of it. As Curiosity drew nearer, the light grew until it nearly covered the entire hemisphere. Clouds hid much of the planet from view. Beneath them he could see flocks of islands scattered throughout the sparkling water. Could this truly be a world which had never lived?
The image suddenly seemed to blur, as if waves of heat rose before it. Sorensen tried to focus his viewscreen, but nothing seemed to help. He scanned the monitors quickly. There were odd fluctuations in atmospheric temperature and chemical composition.
"Something strange, Thrin," he said. "You might want to reduce--"
A giant hand smashed into Curiosity. Sorensen's body slammed into his restraints. He felt as if he were inside a monstrous bell, swinging from side to side as his ears were blasted by sound. The ship shuddered for an endless moment, then stood still.
Sorensen opened his eyes. Half his monitors were damaged, and the rest displayed readings which baffled him. He winced as he moved out of his restraints. There was blood on his left arm where one strap had bit deeply.
"Who is harmed?" Slarik's voice seemed as commanding as ever.
"Back legs injured," Thrin said. "Movement difficult."
"I've got some cuts, nothing serious." Sorensen rose to his feet. "What the hell happened?"
"Unknown," Slarik said. "Hiroki, report."
'I'm here," she said weakly. "I think I broke my wrist. Damn."
"No injury here," Salrik replied. "All go Thrin."
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REEF
Like a ghostly pearl larger than a human head, the holographic image of the unnamed planet floated in the middle of Curiosity's guidance chamber. Slarik lifted one massive arm above the projection. The dozens of delicate tendrils that served the Vrax as fingers wriggled over the planet, as if they could brush away its mysteries.
"Oxygen," Slarik said. Its voice was a quiet rumble, like distant thunder. "Water. No life."
Sorensen moved closer to the image, careful not to stumble in the low-g conditions of the guidance chamber. He blinked in the scarlet glare of the illumination panels which simulated the light of Slarik's homeworld. The chamber was hot, dry, and full of the oddly astrigent scent of Vrax.
"As far as we can tell from here," he said. "Sensors don't tell the whole story."
Hiroki leaned back and folded her hands. She seemed perfectly at ease working in an environment designed for hermaphroditic, pseudo-reptilian centaurs.
"True enough," she said. "Still, the evidence we have is convincing. All data are consistent with bare rock covered with empty seas. Common enough, if it weren't for that damn oxygen. That's a mystery."
Thrin shuffled its front legs as it examined the slowly turning image. Anxiety? Excitement? It was difficult to tell.
"Probes wished for," it said.
Sorensen tried not to smile at the grammatical confusion of his companion. Rarely did a human being master even a few words of any Vrax language, most of which had bewildering multiple cases for past, present, and future. Thrin and Slarik were far more intelligent than their stumbling use of Standard Simplified European might suggest.
"Bad," Slarik noted. "Much cost, little return." It touched the jeweled icon that hung around its thick neck on a ceramic chain.
Sorensen didn't understand all the intricacies of Vrax sociology, with its mixture of clan loyalty, religious faith, and rigid code of business ethics. It was obvious, however, that Slarik seriously disapproved of throwing good money after idle speculation.
Curiosity was a typical scout ship, designed to do a quick survey of a solar system after emerging from the disorienting chaos of flatspace. Carrying fully equiped probes would have been a foolish luxury, given the scarcity of planets that were more than stone or gas.
"So we go down and take a look." Hiroki passed her hand through the ghostly image. Points of light danced on her fingers like diamonds. She smiled slightly, as if daring the planet to hide its secrets from her.
"Agreed." Slarik backed out of the chamber without further discussion. Although Curiosity functioned as a rough democracy, the fact that Slarik's clan had provided the lion's share of funding made the elder Vrax first among equals.
Thrin continued to study the image. Its large silvery eyes, devoid of anything resembling irises or pupils, were impossible to read.
"Anomaly," it said. "Promising. Dangerous." Instead of simply walking backwards out of the chamber, Thrin turned until it was facing away from the image -- a challenging task for a six-limbed creature twice as heavy as a human. Sorensen wondered at the significance, if any, of this gesture.
"They don't fool around," he said. "We better get ready."
With a lazy half-salute Hiroki left the chamber, walking briskly toward her station. Sorensen wondered why a experienced flatspace navigator had chosen to work aboard a small scout ship, when her skills would have been welcomed anywhere in the Protectorate. Xenophilia, a sense of adventure, the willingness to wait years for a discovery that would make her filthy rich -- none of the usual explanations seemed to fit perfectly.
We are all aliens to each other. Sorensen made his way to his own station. He welcomed the change of light from blazing red to the cool yellow-white of Earth. The slightly stronger pull of simulated gravity, as he moved from the center of Curiosity to the periphery, was conforting. He strapped himself into his familiar chair, the winking monitors surrounding him like old friends.
"Approach begins." Thrin's familiar voice -- somehow gentler than Slarik's -- seemed to be coming from all around. Sorenson thought he could hear the whisper of ion jets, although they were supposed to be silent. He relaxed and closed his eyes for a moment as acceleration pushed him back into his seat.
"Feel like going for a swim, Jen?" The playfulness in Hiroki's voice brought him out of his reverie.
"Do I have a choice?" Sorensen glanced at his monitors. "The whole planet seems to be nothing but one big beach. Shallow oceans and countless tiny islands."
"Wet," Slarik said. "Like Earth."
Sorensen watched the planet approach on his viewscreen. The light of Epsilon Eridani, a shade more orange than the light of Sol, illuminated three-quarters of it. As Curiosity drew nearer, the light grew until it nearly covered the entire hemisphere. Clouds hid much of the planet from view. Beneath them he could see flocks of islands scattered throughout the sparkling water. Could this truly be a world which had never lived?
The image suddenly seemed to blur, as if waves of heat rose before it. Sorensen tried to focus his viewscreen, but nothing seemed to help. He scanned the monitors quickly. There were odd fluctuations in atmospheric temperature and chemical composition.
"Something strange, Thrin," he said. "You might want to reduce--"
A giant hand smashed into Curiosity. Sorensen's body slammed into his restraints. He felt as if he were inside a monstrous bell, swinging from side to side as his ears were blasted by sound. The ship shuddered for an endless moment, then stood still.
Sorensen opened his eyes. Half his monitors were damaged, and the rest displayed readings which baffled him. He winced as he moved out of his restraints. There was blood on his left arm where one strap had bit deeply.
"Who is harmed?" Slarik's voice seemed as commanding as ever.
"Back legs injured," Thrin said. "Movement difficult."
"I've got some cuts, nothing serious." Sorensen rose to his feet. "What the hell happened?"
"Unknown," Slarik said. "Hiroki, report."
'I'm here," she said weakly. "I think I broke my wrist. Damn."
"No injury here," Salrik replied. "All go Thrin."
