And Now For Something Completely Different

Hello, all:

I ought to have given you a proper Edison City episode, and I apologize for that, but the thing is I’ve started a new full-time day job this past week, which unlike the day jobs I’ve had in the past few years is actually in office. (Quite literally: I have an actual office. I owe a whole lot of thank-you prayers to St. Joseph, let me tell you.) Of course this requires a commute somewhat longer than walking from one room to another in my house, and that among other reasons is why my weekly schedule has changed up rather significantly. I still plan to keep on writing, though; the Edison City adventures will continue!

In the meantime, would a bit from my Atlantis war novel suffice? Here’s a very short excerpt from the first chapter. Comments/suggestions are welcome, as always!

That first day of summer, the first squad of the first brigade of the Special Neptunian Assault Expeditionary Corps assembled promptly at dawn. They met on land, which was unusual. All of the other trainings for what was known among the ranks as Snake One had been underwater, either inside the Palace or out in the courtyard, depending on the schedule for the day. This was their first time setting foot on proper soil, and they were all worried about it.

They wouldn’t admit it, of course, not to each other, not to themselves, and certainly not to their leader, Captain Crannix, veteran of the Mer Incursion of ‘93. “All right, ya lousy tadpoles,” he bellowed, stalking back and forth on the sand, “Form up! Form up smartly!” They couldn’t see his eyes underneath his war helmet but they could practically feel his glare. Snake One had a reputation about it; it was the first squad, after all, the elite of the elite, and a lot of high officials wanted their sons placed in it. Because it was the first squad, very few of those sons actually made the cut, however. That was mostly due to officers like Crannix.

Between the heat of Crannix’ ire and the warmth of the overhead sun, many of the Snakes were already sweating underneath their own armor; nevertheless, they formed up as as quickly as they could. Four lines, five in each line; all made a compact square, defensible in any direction, and able to shift rapidly into an attack formation as well. Crannix gave a tight nod of approval.

“Very well!” the commander said. “Our mission for today should be easy, especially for you lot. That does not mean you will let down your guard! I expect weapons tight, comrades close, in and out, no witnesses, protocol clean, have you got that?”

“Aye Captain Crannix!” they chorused as one.

He nodded again. “Specifically, we will be marching in loose field formation forty klicks west from this point until we reach the access road to a human military base. We will then take positions, wait until nightfall, and then move on the base. Our particular target is a destroyer, newly arrived; our intelligence indicates it has an advanced piece of technology that might detect our patrols, and potentially even our island itself. Gentlemen, we are here to ensure that will not happen. Move out!”

“Aye Captain Crannix!” came the chorus again. The Snakes fell out in good order and proceeded off into the trees. Crannix watched them go, a slight frown on his face. He thought he’d detected a false note in that last chorus. Had there been a quiver of hesitation, perhaps? He had an ear for these things; he’d heard thousands of “Aye Captain Crannix!” choruses over his years. He knew by now when they were heartfelt and when they weren’t, quite. This reply had almost been; nineteen out of twenty voices had joined in perfect unison. One voice hadn’t. Why?

The captain wasn’t an idiot; he knew they’d be nervous. They’d trained underwater, practicing with hand to hand and armed combat until they were just as good, better even, than their potential human opponents. Even so, this was their first for-real mission; he expected jitters. This was something else, and it bothered him.

Crannix was not an Atlantean to stand around and deliberate forever. He drew his spear and marched into the trees himself. If one of his men were a traitor or an outright coward, he would gut the fool himself. He bet he knew who it was, too, or knew within three guesses, anyway. It wasn’t one of the sons of the great houses; he’d made sure the ones who’d made it through training deserved their place. It wasn’t Valanumos; he could be overly talkative during mealtimes but he was steady on the drill. Crannix had seen him earlier, too, loping off confidently into the trees; that man hadn’t been hesitant at all. It wasn’t Egonomon either; he could see the Snake fin officer second class now, plodding on without hesitation, not a flinch, not a worry about him. No, this was someone else. This wasn’t one of the class stars, the standouts, the team leaders. This was…

Then Crannix saw Fin Officer Third Class Marius Caelos, just emerging from behind a stand of pine, and he knew. If that little weasel wasn’t the source of the false note he’d heard, he’d eat his own trident, by Neptune he would. Even now, Caelos carried his spear as if he worried it might twist round and bite him. He’d never distinguished himself in training, yet somehow managed to do just well enough to escape getting cut. Now here he was on his first mission, and he found he was a coward. Well, Crannix had little patience for that. Either the Fin Officer Third Class would shape up smartly or he wouldn’t, and Crannix would watch him extra close to make sure he would. Nobody washed out on his watch.

They had just hit an especially thick patch of trees and underbrush, however, and between creeping his way through the tangle and doing so as stealthily as he could and trying to keep a general idea of the whereabouts of his entire squad, Crannix quickly realized he just wasn’t going to have time to devote particular attention to this one poor washout. Not yet, anyway: if the mission failed and both he and Marius Caelos survived, he’d deal with the young man then. For now, he could only hope Marius found some measure of courage in the woods before they reached the target. “If you don’t,” Crannix growled under his breath, “I will gut you.”

Marius Caelos himself had no idea the danger he was in from his own side. What he did know, as he crept along through the woods, war spear in hand, was that he’d at least gotten the lesson right on How to Advance Stealthily through Woods. He couldn’t see a sign of the enemy yet, but if they were out there, but he was reasonably sure they couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see any of his companions anyway, and that was something. The other thing he knew was that he very much didn’t want to be here.

He knew, oh, how he knew he should’ve said something sooner. He’d gotten such high marks in school that his parents had practically insisted he try out for naval service. Marius had assumed that he’d flunk the examination; so few of the young men ahead of him had passed that he figured it had to be staggeringly hard. To his horror, it wasn’t hard enough. Not only did he pass, he did so stunningly well that the administering officer promptly recommended him for S.N.A.E.C. Marius had reluctantly tried out for that, hoping against all hope that he’d wash out. His parents had been so proud when he’d come home with his sea serpent pin after the first training course that he felt horrible letting them down, so he’d kept on with it. Besides, he’d managed to console himself, it was all academic anyway, wasn’t it? Atlantis had never gone to war with the humans; they hadn’t needed to, thanks to Neptune and his Trident. S.N.A.E.C. was just busywork to keep the lads occupied, that was it.

He’d been wrong about that too, apparently.