Randy Henderson, writer of the Finn Fancy Necromancy series, opened his OryCon reading to other writers. Here, he reads from the beginning of The Enfolding Abyss.
The Hoopoe watched the freshly uploaded videos of the ‘Charged Filter’ transport. He and the three others who’d requested the sponge portion had determined the least alarming, yet fully accurate, name to call it. It was a filter, one that was sort of alive. As for the charge… well, barely anyone here knew exactly what they were doing. They just had to try things. If things didn’t go horribly wrong, none of it needed explaining to anyone until they’d accomplished something. The Hoopoe’s adolescent face showed excruciation watching every little action regarding the charged filter.
Silica sponges the size of palaces! There was always something he didn’t know yet about the great worlds, wise though his sixteen years had made him. They’d been discussing the possibilities for a lattice of specific and unusual parameters. Dr. Maryan Waters, the biologist residing at the Arch, asked them if they knew about this creature, as though they should.
So they would now use the charged filter, or figure out how to use it, or learn that they couldn’t use it. Wheehoo! The Hoopoe was motivated by a good income, even if he was essentially imprisoned; Lurinese miss their trees. He told them that he wouldn’t be as good with ideas if he stopped making music, so they let him bring his entire incredible sound system. They set up the shelving for it to take up his entire sleeping quarters, aside from sleeping surface. He accomplished more when he could have some fun, and he made quite a racket. Sometimes First AIDD would find the music and bust a groove in the doorway. That avuncular guy could really move.
The Hoopoe had a lot of official and unofficial uncles, aunties, cousins, sisters, and brothers who inhabited his house at different times. The Hoopoe’s own house, paid for with his own gains, built by family people and loved by the party. Where someone was cooking in the kitchen – Who? – Dunno. Where there was going to be music tonight – Which room? – Clara, top level. It was a proper Lurinese house, with connected levels on named trees. For a moment he envisioned a treetop rustling against a dark sky, stars peeking between underlit branches.
He kicked back onto his bunk facing his primary terminal. He didn’t have to keep up with every little thing at every little moment, really. This was only the highest pay, highest risk game he’d ever played with his and others’ futures on the line. A few paper shields held by powerful companies kept him in his own bunk, on a payroll, underwater, in ownership – instead of sharing a bunk, underground, on a juvenile roster, in liquidation. He looked above him at the equipment shelves. Having the music made a big difference.
Here is my OryCon schedule for the coming weekend, Nov. 17-19 at Portland Waterfront Marriott (a.k.a. your best friend’s basement):
Fri 4:00pm – 5:00pm Comics Created Our Modern Mythologies
Fri 6:00pm – 7:00pm The Quest for the Ultimate Superhero
Fri 8:00pm – 9:00pm Rx for Fitness
Sat 9:00am – 10:00am I Want to Get My Science On
Sat 3:00pm – 4:00pm Make your own book in one hour
Sat 8:00pm – 9:00pm Backyard Astronomy
Sun 10:00am – 11:00am Overturning the Cart
Sun 12:00pm – 1:00pm Superheroes in Times of Crisis
Sun 1:00pm – 2:00pm Trades versus Weeklies Economics
Here are a couple shots from last Sunday’s Teatime Culture Salon at the Alternative Library, Bellingham:
and I also saw my friend, Eagle Bear Lawrence, on the way to his 99-year-old auntie’s memorial service:
There is a new 9-part poem on evalisaelasigue.wordpress.com, “The Process”. This has been distributed as an entire folded broadsheet and partial bifolds, and is now readable in entirety online.
Come to Bellingham’s Alternative Library at 4pm on Sunday, November 12 for a unique opportunity to experience a science fiction reading over environmental art film in the presence of live painting, with tea and pot luck snacks. All while the library is open for you to check things out! (facebook event link)
Eva L. Elasigue (Friday Harbor)
author reading from fantasy space opera trilogy, Bones of Starlight: an intergalactic-fantastic turn-of-the-age saga
over film footage by
Daniel Harm (Seattle)
BEYOND, a mystical large-scale performance in a remote environment, imagining futuristic technology to communicate with ecosystems
Omar Lopez (Seattle), photographer
Come out and bring a friend for a teatime reading, arting, and film screening!
All four dragons were couched resplendent in simultaneous multiplicities of form; each doing all and more at once according to their type, they sat beneath, floated above, roosted in, and activated around their trees as their forms examined each others’ forms. They spent a while doing only that, noting details about each other. Then they began to talk about things that were different now.
Being of new growth and unfolding, Myricotl expressed sorrow at inevitable effects of the Viridian Phasing on the dimensional senses in this generative of newly occurring life developing in those areas. All would bear marks of it. ‘E couldn’t rectify it or tell what would happen, only that things would be coming out surprising where that wasn’t already the case. This kind of massive life-conditional shift was upsetting to Myricotl, regardless of whether it was a timely manifestation of a statistically natural stochasticity. Given an opinion, ‘e doesn’t wish to engage in it. Expected booms may not occur.
Ottokad’s conceptual parameters of interaction with the Pan-Galactic Imperium were going to change to inaccuracy while all this was happening. ‘E stopped working almost completely in the Imperium, and the one or two things to which ‘e could lend erself took a great deal of energy. One task might take half a day. Ottokad was certainly missed, but ‘e couldn’t take professional responsibility for work during the phasing if ‘e was participating. Organizing principles of integral structures would be in the usual hands while the dragon applied er efficacy elsewhere. Fixatives and cements wouldn’t be working as well, especially the ones based on eyvea. People would have to compensate for that.
Saga was quiet, mulling over contemplations without saying anything. The dragon looked faraway, listless and detached, holding er peace. This did not seem good to anyone. Where was the story? Where was it going? Saga watched them pointedly in silence, face serious but kind.
Though these weren’t all the dragons excluded by the phasing, they gave Arkuda better insight to ramifications and difficulties for those who were essentially locked out and deterred from their places, as a result of their not participating in the phasing tunes which altered the dragonroads.
It was so nice to see these three again. It hadn’t been such a while since previous meetings, but certainly longer and farther between. They matched scales with each other, turning their forms into various alignments. Scalepoints gleamed together like stars in the same sky. Their scales reflected the knowledge, realities, and life connections etched into that part of the dragon; they reflected these things to each other, matching pieces for new learning. They weaved around each other, together then apart.
A flower bloomed in Arkuda’s thoughts, denoting time’s arrival. ‘E quietly, unfussily left Golden Apple River.