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Everyday Drabbles #673: Centaurian Rabbits

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He hears the chirp coming from somewhere above him and sighs.
He’s got Centaurian Rabbits in his vents again.
He doesn’t think they look much like the Earth rodents, but they’re cute in their own right, and mostly harmless. They just have the unfortunate tendency to nest in spacecraft air systems.
They are named not for their appearance, but for the danger they pose. It’s a warning about what happens when animals are introduced into unsuitable habitats. But the rabbits don’t know that.
He brings up the controls to flush the vents into space, hating himself for the cold equations.

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Everyday Drabbles #672: The Globe

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“Take one of these objects,” the old man said. “It will help you on your way.”
She looked down at the table, covered in relics from a lifetime of adventures. Her hand hovered indecisively over the collection of gadgets. Each had its own history, its own weight. She couldn’t choose.
“You want my advice? Take the globe.” He gestured to an ornate globe, complete with a brass stand and eyepiece.
“Why?”
“Because it’s a flask!” He picked it up and unscrewed the eyepiece. She smelled the sharp odor of spirits.
She sighed. Why could he never take these things seriously?

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Hugh Likes Fiction: Elder Race

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Elder Race
Written by Adrian Tchaikovsky
Published by tor.com

The Skinny – A braided novella that plays well with two very different set of tropes.

Lynesse Fourth Daughter is a princess on a noble quest. Perhaps the queen forbid her to get involved, and she doesn’t really know what she’s doing, but she’s off to a good start. She’s even recruited the legendary sorcerer Nyrgoth Elder to her side. Except that ‘Nyrgoth’ is in fact Nyr Illim Tevitch, a shlubby, depressed anthropologist from Earth, who should be studying the regressed society of interstellar colonists instead of playing wizard. But the rest of his team headed back to Earth centuries ago, and he hasn’t heard anything from them. And he’s lonely and depressed. But everything should work out fine, right?
Elder Race mixes far-future science fiction with old school sword and sorcery. Author Adrian Tchaikovsky weaves a deft course between genre tropes and delivers a stunning gut-punch of a novella packed with complex characters.
The story is split between the points of view of the main characters, switching off between Lynesse and Nyr as they go to confront a ‘demon’ causing havoc on the planet’s surface. Nyr is sure that this is just another bit of old technology that’s gotten out of hand. Lyn is sure that the Ancient Sorcerer will have no problems dealing with evil magic, as he did centuries before, when her ancestor called him. Of course, they’re both super wrong.
One of my favorite tricks Tchaikovsky plays with in this story is in the use of language. Nyr is constantly frustrated by the fact that he can’t even confess that he’s a charlatan, because all of this post-Earth cultur’e’s words for ‘scientist’ are also cognates for ‘wizard.’ By shifting perspective, the reader gets to understand both characters better than they do each other. There is even a great sequence where their text appears side by side, and the reader sees the same story as Nyr means to tell it and as Lyn hears it.
Tchiakovsky takes a warrior princess and a displaced sci-fi crew member and puts them into what amounts to a comedy of manners, with each struggling to both use the other to their own ends, and to understand one another. It’s a clever little story, and it surprised and moved me more than I expected.
Elder Race is a delightful spec-fic gem of a novella, and I highly recommend picking it up, whether you’re a fan of quests or post-human existential angst, it’s a cocktail sure to delight the palate.

Everyday Drabbles #671: Disrupted Ritual

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The paladin entered the clearing and found the cultists, just as he expected. The black-robed figures turned with eerie synchronicity as he drew his sword. They intercepted him with raised daggers while their leader continued the sacrifice.
“The Moon is up!” The old man’s shouts echoed strangely in the night.
“The time is right!”
The paladin fought his way through the maddened crowd.
“We’re gathered here…”
“That’s enough,” The paladin said as he cut down the officiant. He picked up the girl. She’d be alright. But he was going to have that damn song stuck in his head for weeks.

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Everyday Drabbles #670: The Desert God

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He saw the birds circling days before he reached the body. The hundred-foot-tall corpse was leaned up against the mesa as though it were a rock, pinned in place by its own sword. It had been left to the vultures and the sun to dispose of.
When they came West, they found a harsh land protected by harsher gods. They hadn’t been welcome. That hadn’t stopped them.
They told themselves they were heroes. They were bringing Civilization and taming a wild place. He sheltered in the shadow of the giant’s blade and tried to make himself believe it was true.

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Everyday Drabbles #669: The Drought

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The Dragon Knight looked down from her tower. Below her, she could see the peasants working desperately in the fields, building sand walls and digging for water.
Her heart ached, but what could she do? Drought couldn’t be beaten with a sword. And she’d paid her own price.
A dragon’s life force is puissant and eternal. She was constantly surrounded by blue and silver wraiths. She’d had to isolate herself to protect the kingdom. She didn’t mind, it was part of the duty.
She went back inside, never considering the link between the dragons and the land that spawned them.

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Everyday Drabbles #668: The Labyrinth Door

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The door seemed rather ordinary, if out of place. It was solid, heavy oak, and it stood in a stone arch frame in the middle of the forest. The magic was in the keys.
They hung from every bare branch of the dead trees, and each was guarded by a raven that stared down at her with fearsome intelligence. She just needed to find the right key, and appease its keeper. Then she could unlock the door, and it would take her she needed to be.
She finally understood what the old man had meant. Not all labyrinths were mazes.

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Everyday Drabbles #667: The Runner

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The Runner is the ghost of Machine City. Everyone has a second-hand story of a friend or a cousin meeting the one spanner in The Corp’s mighty works.
He hacks a bioterminal to distribute free medicine here and diverts trucks full of SecForce thugs away from a housing protest there. He’s an urban legend, both everywhere and nowhere.
The Chief Policing Officer appears regularly on the feeds insisting that The Runner doesn’t exist. But the work continues.
High above, the boy jumps from catwalk to catwalk, knowing the value of being born without tackers in a city of electronic eyes.

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Everyday Drabbles #666: The Loading Bay

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The robots roll out of the factory and onto the waiting ships. The assembled troops salute each passing unit. The grunts have never seen them unfinished or met one of the legendary elite pilots inside, but they’ve all heard the stories. They’ve seen what the Walkers can do. They will bring honor and glory to Luna.
Inside the unit, the child beats its hands against the metal walls. They try and pull out the tubes and wires that connect them to the machine. They scream the ancient words until they are hoarse.
“Alexa, stop!” But the units keep on rolling.

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Everyday Drabbles #665: Faerie Lights

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The Death’s Head Moths were attracted to the faeries’ light, and thus the fragile creatures became endangered. There was no malice in the insects’ attacks. They merely sensed light and magic and were drawn in.
Initially, the mages built the lanterns as refuges, places the faeries could safely hide when the swarms were on the wing. It was a kindness, and the faeries gratefully accepted their hospitality.
But once the mages had them, they couldn’t help but notice the faeries’ beauty, and how plentiful and useful their magics were.
It does not take long for refuge to become a cage.

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