Reading, Writing, and How They’re Connected

After I finished posting my last blog entry (Note: If you haven't read it already, go read it first.), I remembered writing a post on a similar topic, and thought I should insert a link to tie the two together. Lo, and behold, it never was posted. Below, I am rectifying that.

Enjoy!

"Reading is the best way to learn to write well. Read as much as you can." - Lois Lowry

If you’re going to write, you want to do it well. What’s the point, otherwise? Fortunately, it’s an easy topic to study, because textbooks are everywhere. Just hop on down to your local paperback exchange, and pick up a cheap copy of the best use of the English language imaginable.

That’s right, if you’re going to write, you need to spend a good deal of time reading as well. It’s how you know what works on a page and what doesn’t. When your protagonist is stuck and you want the reader to feel what he or she is going through, think back to some of your favorite reads, ones where you felt connected to the characters. How did that author do it? What words on the page touched your heart, or ignited your mind, or made your eyes well up?

“Writers do not read for fun.” – John Irving

Since I started writing, I’ve found that I read differently than I used to. It’s not enough anymore to simply be entertained; I need to understand why I found it entertaining, or boring, or exciting. I look more carefully at how sentences and paragraphs and chapters are put together. I am more aware now of the crafting that goes into this craft.

It’s been quite a while since I picked up a book just to enjoy it. The Gathering Storm is sitting on my desk waiting for me to crack its pages, but then it’s been a while since I read any Robert Jordan and enjoyed it, so that’s not a fair example. My problem with Robert Jordan is this: he doesn’t get to the point.

More on that in a bit.

"To be able to write one good Book on some Subjects, a man must have been at the trouble to read an hundred." - Robert Boyle (1627-1691)

I participate in two book groups, both of which draw liberally from classic literature. Two books a month is a pretty ambitious pace, if you have a real life besides, anyway. It is a pace I can’t always keep up, but I have definitely expanded the number of great authors to whose works I have been exposed. I have marveled at Dumas’ plot structure in The Count of Monte Cristo. I have learned bits and pieces of how to portray human flaws from William Shakespeare. Jane Austen showed me how to write vibrant characters. J. R. R. Tolkien, George Eliot, and Louis L’Amour have all taught me that protagonists don’t have to be complex to be heroic. My list could easily expand to fifty or a hundred books that have taught me something, but you get the point, I’m sure.

Reading great books gives you a pattern of greatness that you can use in your own work. It is almost inevitable that your writing will emulate that of the writers you admire most. After all, why would you write a book you wouldn’t enjoy reading?

"There are books of which the backs and covers are by far the best parts." - Charles Dickens

The other extreme is also a distinct possibility, however, when you start spreading out the blanket of topics and authors you peruse. More than likely, you’ll find yourself reading through some work and you’ll say to yourself, “I wouldn’t have written it that way,” or, “Why does she take three pages to get to the point?” or even just, “Yuck.”

A couple of months ago I read Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. All three of those thoughts crossed my mind. More than once. Now don’t get me wrong, taken as a whole it is a remarkable work, told in an intriguing manner. But I would have done it differently. A lot of that, I am sure comes from the fact that the book was more about propounding her views of economics and morality, and lack of same, than it was about telling a great story for the sake of the story. The more I found my own views diverging from hers, the less I enjoyed the book.

“If you have an important point to make, don't try to be subtle or clever. Use a pile driver. Hit the point once. Then come back and hit it again. Then hit it a third time--a tremendous whack.” - Sir Winston Churchill

As an example, near the end of the book (p. 923 in my version) the leader of a group of industrialists co-opts all the radios in the country to make a speech to explain the logic of his position. His position, of course, has been well documented for the reader in the 922 previous pages. Yet, Ms. Rand takes the next 57 pages to lay it all out yet again. I have heard it said that any philosophy that can be summed up in a nutshell belongs there, but, honestly, fifty-seven pages? I wouldn’t have written it that way, myself, because I found the reading of it so distasteful. Not because I disagreed with everything, or even most of, what was said, but rather because she wouldn’t just get to the point.

“I could go on if you’d like.” – Monty Python

I could go on if you’d like, but I think you get my point.

Mimicking Another's Style

A bit of advice I received four or five years ago has stuck with me since, though it has not always been easy to follow. The advice was that before embarking on writing, you should read 1,000 books. The point of the advice was that in order to be good at writing, you have to see good writing. You have to pick out those elements that speak to you, and try to incorporate them into your own writing.

As part of that pursuit, I finished reading David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens today. I should say I finished listening to the audio book today, thanks to my Father's Day gift of an iPod, and its infinitely handy 2X speed button. At any rate, the elements I gleaned from this classic work are surrounding Dickens' mastery of the English language, and how the dialog pertaining to each character is somewhat unique to that person.

I actually read the book as part of my participation in a Classics Book Group. Since I needed to send out a reminder, I took the opportunity to mimc the writing style of the character Micawber from that work:

29 July

My dearest friends and acquaintances,

I am certain that you have all been made cognizant of my current state, having been dismissed from my situation by that Heep of infamy, one whom it were superfluous to call Demon, he having also laid ignominy at my feet to stain the upstanding name of Wilkins Micawber, further setting the constabulary on my heels with false charges and forged proofs of unwarranted debts.

To all of which I say: Welcome poverty! Welcome misery, welcome houselessness, welcome hunger, rags, tempest, and beggary! Mutual confidence will sustain us to the end!

I feel overwhelmed with gratitude at that unflagging confidence, to which I have just referred, shown by the friend of my youth, the companion of earlier days, that worthy minister at the sacred alter of friendship – in short, Master David Copperfield, who is known to you all. It was at his insistence that each of you should be invited to attend a gathering, to commence promptly at half past seven, the evening of XX, at the home of his remarkable aunt, located at XX, for the singular purpose of sharing with me your collective wisdom, guidance, and insights. I have, according to the expressed wishes of my darling Emma, who never shall desert me, thrown down the gauntlet before the world; we shall hereafter see whether or not the world shall pick it up.

With such remarkable assistance offered, I have no doubt I shall, please Heaven, begin to be more beforehand with the world, and to live in a perfectly new manner, if, in short, anything turns up.

Remaining always, your devoted servant, &c, &c,

Wilkins Micawber

Dead Reckoning (book one) - Chapter 11

Chapter 11
Ensign Jordan Hayes
From his personal journal
29 June - 1 July

      Captain Brighton had asked all of the officers, including those of us who were mere ensigns, to keep a journal for the purpose of having several records of these events. I'm not really good at this, but here it is. A journal is different than a diary, right?
      Anyway, Captain wanted to make sure the rest of the crew got some sleep, while we finalized plans for landing on Antoc-A3. It didn't take a lot of convincing for the crew. They slept noiselessly as we listened to the captain and Johnson instructing us on what to expect in entry and landing. We didn't like to think about it too much, especially since we weren't sure how well we could land while trying to conserve the power cells as Captain Brighton desired.
      Lt. Johnson did her level best to assure us that all would be well. The confidence Captain showed in her helped ease many of our fears about the impending landing. It was more than that, though, for me. I wanted off of this boat, at least to stretch my legs a little and get away from the cramped quarters. I felt a desire to be outside in the sunshine and fresh air, to see if the stench of the betrayal we all felt could air out a little.
      Exhaustion was starting to overtake me and make my eyes droop a little, when Captain Brighton ended our briefing and instructed us to try and rest while we made a final approach before landing. He intimated that while it was likely we could rest on the planet, there would be work to do and would not be any slack time to be found.
      If there was one thing I had learned in my posting aboard Pathfinder with Captain Brighton, it was that whatever he suggested, you should take as an order. So I did. I found a nice piece of mostly unoccupied cushion and fell asleep as soon as I hit the floor.
      "Strap in!" yelled someone, most likely Captain I thought, as I came suddenly awake. "Prepare for turbulence." The lack of room made for uncomfortable sleeping conditions, which was why I had to put my neck back into good order before I sat in the chair that I had marked as my own. I was more than a little groggy.
      I grimaced as my stomach growled, and caught a lopsided smile that Ward threw my way as his stomach seemed to echo mine. As everyone was getting into straps, for those in seats, and cargo harnesses for the rest, I couldn't help but see the hope and concern of the group. I would have to say that I was feeling it, too. I made small-talk with Mitchell as we both tried to keep each other in a positive mood through some unspoken agreement.
      Our landing site was selected due to its perceived likelihood of having food and water available. Our long-range scans, such as our planetary sensors were, indicated that there was a river running through the valley here that supported life and a heck of a lot of vegetation.
      "Ladies and gentlemen, here we go!" Johnson said from the pilot's seat, as she brought us down, breaking atmosphere none too gently. I could see that Captain Brighton was at the command console next to her, and was busy checking everything on the three displays, as he watched Vanguard's attitude, velocity, and trajectory carefully.
      Boy, it seemed like we came in hot. I was used to the lazy, slow descents that came with the Gravitas drives. When space travel had begun centuries ago, it became obvious that for any lengthy duration of spatial voyage, artificial gravity as well as inertial dampening were going to be necessary. Sterling and Warner had co-founded the Gravitas organization which developed the first inertial dampening and artificial gravity generators to be used in space vessels. Since the initial founding, a few other Families had joined the organization. A natural progression for the organization was an improvement on the basic, and costly, chemical drive engines that were being utilized.
      About 300 years ago, the first Gravitas drive had been born. It utilized much of the basic technology developed in the artificial gravity projects to create a drive engine capable of producing a gravity disparity to the surrounding space allowing the vessel to be propelled at a much higher rate of acceleration without the expensive fuels required for the large chemical drives. Generally, a vessel landing on a planet had the ability with a Gravitas drive to float down to the surface. That said, all Warner ships had backup chemical drives in place for emergencies, and that was what Vanguard was relying on to conserve the massive electrical power required for the Gravitas engines.
      Johnson was pretty good, and Captain had plotted a perfect trajectory. Together they placed us within a few yards of the point they had decided on the night before.
      Captain had allowed us to wait to make planetfall in the daylight, which was why we had a glorious vision as the hatch cracked open and the sunlight streamed in. The fresh air smelled verdant and rich. I was looking forward to walking out into that sunlight.
      "It's beautiful," Roberts said as she exited the craft, just ahead of me.
      "It sure is," I replied, as I stepped out into the warm morning sunshine. I couldn't help but smile. It seemed to be catching. I think that at that time I didn't realize it affected me, but as I looked back on it, that moment was the one that saw me through so many others. In that radiant morning sun on Antoc-A3, the bitterness I felt was melting away, to be replaced by thankfulness and determination.
      Of course, maybe the determination was a little because of the way the captain smiled and said, "All right ladies and gentlemen, we didn't come down here to stare. Listen up." He was hard, but he oozed competence and determination.
      Landing Site Prime lacked any edible food, and showed no trace of the river we knew was nearby, hidden in the vegetation. Captain Brighton split us into an exploratory group, and a defensive group.
      Captain Brighton left Lt. Johnson and Mackey with Mitchell, O'Neill, Smith and Alcaraz to watch the craft and the landing site. I knew all of them pretty well except Alcaraz, but figured that the group of them would be more than competent at guarding the ship.
      Since we were not overly trained in planetary exploration, by which I mean that the closest I had come to actual training was running on the Academy cross-country team, we just followed Captain Brighton into the forest.
      Now, I wouldn’t say I knew nothing of the outdoors; it’s just that my experience was limited in many ways. Growing up on Earth, in the part of North America known as New England, and being a very outdoor-oriented boy, I had a fair knowledge of trees. This forest, however, was nothing like anything I had ever seen. While a verdant green, the trees appeared to me to be neither conifers nor deciduous. They might have been one or the other, but I wouldn't be the one to tell you about it. As Jherri Roberts looked over at me, with an eyebrow quirked, I guessed that I probably should be more alert for a river or animals, than in staring up at the vegetation.
      Since we had only the four guns that Teach had let us take, Captain Brighton had left two of them with the Vanguard, and had one of them himself. That left one other which Chowdhury had out. She clearly knew how to handle one, and seemed to be completely comfortable walking along next to the captain, her eyes and head more scanning the area than looking for anything. Apparently, being a security officer on a survey ship involved more training than I had thought. I guess Marines get different training at the academy than regular fleet officers. Or maybe it was just her. That made a better explanation for the way she moved on planet. I was trying to figure out what animal she most resembled, maybe a hunting cat like a panther, when we heard somebody shout behind us.
      Delacoeur was yelling, by which I mean screaming like a little girl, when we got back to him. His hands were over his ankle, and we feared he had broken his leg. Ward quickly attended him and, forcing him to lay back, he examined the ankle. After a few moments, he announced that no bones were broken, but that he had possibly torn some ligaments, and was going to be "uncomfortable" for a while. The doctor suggested that we could splint it enough that he could move around. Ward gave his patient a couple of melting tablets after glancing up at the captain, who shook his head when he proffered the intramuscular injection. Ward nodded to himself and continued.
      Captain gathered us together as Delacoeur slowly calmed down. He squatted next to Delacoeur and asked if he was going to be okay. He nodded, and the captain said, "Good. Now if you, or any of you," as he turned to face the rest of us, "ever harm yourselves due to your own carelessness or recklessness, I will be forced to do something none of you will like. Each one of you has a role in this venture, and each one of you is important. We are all going to be pushed beyond what we are physically used to, and it will take every ounce of your muster to keep going at that point. Moreover, it is not acceptable for any of you to expect someone else to carry your weight. You will all take care to make sure your physical condition is not hindered by stupidity, period. Am I clear on this?"
      We all acquiesced with nods and quiet "yessirs" as Delacoeur colored and looked down while forcing his eyes to close to blink away the tears that had formed while he was howling with pain. We then all set down our gear and looked around while we waited for Ward to set the splint. No one said another word, not even a whisper, while we watched the doctor work.
      When he finished, Captain Brighton walked back over to Delacoeur and turned to speak to him, but I could tell he meant for all of us to hear him.
      "That said, Kieran, I will help you carry your weight today," he said while squatting down next to Delacoeur. "I will not be making a habit of it, though." He helped him up to a standing position with Ward's help, leaning heavily on the captain.
      I came forward and said, "Captain, if you would, let me. You are more needed in leading us, and I think it fair for me to say that nobody else really knows how to handle a weapon as well as you or Major Chowdhury."
      Captain Brighton looked intently at me for a moment. Steve Long stepped up right then and said, "Captain, I can help. That way it won't be too hard on Hayes, either." I was glad that he had spoken up. I wasn't sure how the captain was going to react, but I was glad in that heart-pounding moment that anyone was willing to stand with me. I seem to have a problem with speaking before I think the situation through.
      "All right. But if you start to lag, I will be taking over with no arguments," Captain Brighton said.
      Just like that, he passed Delacoeur to Long and me and we helped him move down the trail.
      "Thanks guys," Kieran said in a low tone, as Captain Brighton moved back up to the front with Chowdhury.
      "No problem," I said, as my heart began to return to a normal pace.
      "Yeah, I am sure Hayes at least would have done the same for me!" Long said as he lightly slugged Delacoeur who laughed a little in response. Delacoeur was really heavy, but since calling him fat was an understatement, that was to be expected.
      We continued onward, until we heard some excitement up ahead and realized that they had encountered the river. As we came up, sweating a river of our own, helping Delacoeur [This sentence is missing another clause.] we found a group had gathered near Captain Brighton at the river. The captain looked back and, as we came into view, he locked eyes with me and gave me a slight nod. I think that is when I realized that he was proud of me for stepping forward back in the clearing to help Kieran. Well, that, or at least he wasn't annoyed with me. I smiled at that thought.
      Water flowed clean and fast across the rocks in the small rapids formed by a shoal in the river. It was a beautiful sight, and we moved Kieran over to a small boulder so he could sit. Long and I moved down to the water with the others and drank from it, as we saw the others doing. Ward was filling his water bottles, so we both assumed the water was safe enough.
      I filled my water bottle after a couple of drinks and took it up to Delacoeur. He smiled a little as I handed it to him. He hadn't been talking much since the meds that Ward had given him had taken effect. He had been smiling a little though.
      We waited together until the captain got us all moving again. Long and I got Kieran back on his good foot and acted as his crutches for him as we followed. We decided to try not to be in the back of the group, so we stepped up our pace to put us a couple of people ahead of the back.
      I let my thoughts drift a little as I was contemplating our situation while we walked. I was thinking that in all my "vast" 22 years of life experience, I never imagined that graduating the Warner Naval Academy, and getting signed on for my initial posting with Pathfinder (for which there had been some pretty extreme competition) would find me out on a planet in the back-water of space, helping an overweight injured cook walk down a slope through the forest, looking for a cave. I did not particularly like the idea I had of what lay ahead, but I was truly hopeful that Captain Brighton really had a plan that would eventually get us home. This place was nice and all, but there was no way that I wanted to spend "indefinitely" here.
      While I was musing, I overheard Delacoeur mumbling something softly to himself. I realized though, as I focused on him a little more, that he was asking us a question.
      "What do you suppose is going on back on Pathfinder?" he repeated at my prompting.
      "I dunno," Long said back at him. "They probably are a lot less burdened than we are." I could tell he was a little angry, but I supposed it to be more about the thought of Pathfinder being taken out from under us all.
      "Sorry about that," Kieran said softly.
      "Don't worry about it, I think Steve's just a little miffed at Teach and his thieves," I said, looking over at Long, who looked away. "They are probably making a run for wherever they had planned to go with her. It seemed pretty obvious that they had planned it out pretty well."
      I realized that I was pretty angry too. I know I had been really mad when they had stuffed us all in the Vanguard, but I was fuming ever since they had marched us all down to the boat bay and told us what was going on. I hadn't even considered their offer about staying aboard Pathfinder with them. There was no way I was going to associate myself with criminals just to spare myself some struggles in life. That just wasn't me, nor could I have lived with myself had I done it. I knew I was young, and that there would be dangers, but I knew myself well enough to know I wasn't going to be able to stay aboard if they were mutinying.
      "I am flaming mad," Long had said then. "If I had it to do over again, I would have tried for a weapon and killed as many of the rats as I could. I thought they were going to put us in the brig, and drop us off somewhere, not put us off in the Vanguard without enough food or power… They are cowards who wanted us all dead, but didn't want to fancy themselves as murderers, most likely."
      "Where could they be taking her?" Kieran asked.
      "Oh, who cares!" Long answered before I could express an opinion. "They have a buyer for the new tech or for the whole ship. One thing's certain, they will be long gone and none of us will ever get a chance for a speck of revenge on them."
      "I don't know either, but one of the other Families, especially a competitor, would likely pay pretty heavy for the tech she carried aboard. That's why they gave her to Captain Brighton and his picked crew of officers," I replied, trying to keep my own disgust for the whole situation out of my voice.
      "For all the good that did the captain, or any of us," Long quickly replied.
      "Yeah, I have to agree with you there," I said, resignedly.
      "Well, regardless of what happened, or what they are doing back on Pathfinder, Eddie and his crew aren't going to get away with it, if the captain can get us back somewhere where there is some civilization," I pointed out.
      "Eddie?" Long asked. "Were you on a nickname basis with that snake, Teach?" His lifted eyebrows caught me off guard, as I saw Delacoeur also look at me askance.
      "No," I stated. "I was just being a little petty and vindictive. I don't think he deserves to be called by anything resembling a polite term. Eddie was the name of that donkey in that old holoshow," I said sighing.
      "Sort of degrades the donkey a bit, don't you think?" Steve said, laughing a little.
      Even Delacoeur smiled at that, and I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.
      With that, we dismissed the subject and didn't broach it again while we walked toward the cave the captain had described. We walked for about another hour along the bank of the river, and the captain allowed us a couple of short breaks, during which we made sure to top off our water bottles. We then turned away from the bank, and up a gentle slope toward some low hills. We walked perhaps another hour or so before we got to where we were going.
      Frustration appeared to ooze from Captain Brighton as he was stepping out of the cave when we managed to get up there with Kieran in between us.
      "It's not the right one," he said simply to those of us who had assembled there.
      There was nothing in the cave, I saw for myself on my quick look after Kieran had been settled on another rock. The cave wasn't even that big, really. It was possibly a little larger than the space aboard Vanguard. I didn't know what Captain thought would be in the cave, but it seemed as if he had been very disappointed to find it empty.
      I exited the cave and looked back at the captain as he was looking at the sky. He watched the top of the foliage for a bit, then looked back down at the small prints taken from the cartography machine (which apparently could make an 'okay' print of terrain, but it was made to print astral anomalies and space scans), then back over to the cave.
      Captain cleared his throat and we all turned toward him. "All right, folks, this isn't the right one. We saw what appeared to be 4 caves with a river nearby from the scans we did in orbit. I had hoped to guess right on the first try, but I suppose that perhaps we shouldn't count on getting too lucky based on everything else lately," he said.
      "We are heading back to Vanguard, and we will try another of the cave areas. Follow me." With that, he turned and started back the way we had come. I heard him saying to Maj. Chowdhury as they passed me, "It has to be one of them…I'm sure of it."
      I was getting pretty tired, especially helping Delacoeur, and I could tell that Long was pretty winded too. We had to push pretty hard to keep up with the captain's pace, and with the lighter food rations, I was really starting to feel weak. I was not sure we were going to make it without having to take a break by ourselves when we came around the last bend and saw the captain and Vanguard in the clearing. Everyone had beaten us back except Fujinami, who was pretending to be busy taking plant samples, but I was pretty sure he was staying just behind us so that we weren't the last ones back. I suppose it's possible that he really was that distracted, but I didn't think so. Either way, I appreciated the fact that he was behind us as we closed in on the craft and the rest of the crew.
      Ward helped us get Delacoeur into Vanguard, and he thanked us all. The doctor was giving him a couple more melt-tabs for the pain. I stepped outside to get the last few gulps of clean air before getting back onboard to go to the other landing point. The daylight was starting to wane a little, as it was approaching late afternoon, when the captain finished with Lt. Johnson and told us to load up.
      A few minutes later we were airborne on the chemical drives again, and Lt. Johnson took a ballistic course just slightly breaking the atmosphere and then bringing us back down. Vanguard screamed in on our new landing site. We all held on for the flight.
      Ms. Johnson, true to form, set us down safely and smoothly, without too much backlash for us riders. I was happy about that. I realized I was still tired and a more than a little sore as I got back up and began exiting the cargo/crew space. As I stepped out, I saw that Captain Brighton and Ms. Johnson had found us a nice landing site in view of another river. Unpleasantly, however, I noticed that the sun was showing midmorning. I had a feeling that meant no real break as we went in search of cave number two.
      Sure enough, Captain Brighton quickly organized us again, and sectioned off six people to stay with the craft while the rest of us went in search of the cave. He changed out a couple of people from the previous group, leaving Ms. Johnson, and Mackey again, but substituting Delacoeur (for obvious reasons), Long (to my astonishment), Le Vesconte, and George. The Captain looked at me as he finished his grouping, and I nodded my acknowledgment to him. He felt I could do it fine, and so I would.
      Unfortunately for us, the hike to the cave and back was long and unfruitful. We didn't like the fact that we had done it again for no apparent reason, but nobody was about to say anything to the captain. He was obviously disappointed, but within moments of the discovery he had regained his composure and we were "cheerfully" hiking back to the Vanguard.
      The second trip, all things considered, went much more smoothly for me, and I actually felt better when we got back to the Vanguard than when we left it, my muscles felt stretched and well-worked. Captain allowed us to take a food break when we got back. Not that we had much in the way of food, but it tasted good, and made my stomach quit whining. Captain was pretty strict about making sure that everyone was getting enough water, so at least no one was getting dehydrated.
      We quickly loaded up onto Vanguard and Captain and Ms. Johnson got us underway once again. As soon as we began disembarking from Vanguard at the third site, I heard Captain tell Ms. Johnson, "I think this is the one."
      I hoped so, as I was once again included in the exploration party. We were obviously moving planetary west, as it was again midmorning. I was beginning to think that my first happy thoughts about being outside the ship were a little presumptuous. Oh well, I supposed the fresh air and sunshine were nice, I was just a little tired of hiking.
      I was actually hoping that Captain Brighton would call a rest break when I saw the mouth of a cave. Since I was walking in the lead group, more to prove something to myself than to the captain, I was among the first few to enter it.
      "Right, this is it," the captain said as we walked in. "Follow me back here and let's get those packs."
      I was ecstatic when I saw what he had discovered, or I guess rediscovered would be more accurate. There was a bundle of power cells, and some bundles of food and some other supplies. Captain clapped Chowdhury lightly on the shoulder and she nodded back to him.
      We all gladly accepted the extra weight of the gear as we loaded up for the trip back to Vanguard. It appeared that a lot of the food package seals had broken and a lot of it had spoiled. Not all of it, though, and we were glad of that. We couldn't figure out how we were going to get it all back in one trip, so we made sure to get all of the power cells, and what food we could, leaving the rest for a promised return trip.
      We made good time getting back to Vanguard, all things considered. Everyone was pretty happy about getting the food, small amount that it was, but Captain was happier about the power cells. I was beginning to think that this might all work out okay after all.
      I actually volunteered (what was I thinking?) to be in the smaller group to go back for the rest of the supplies. Another group was sent to explore the surrounding forest for food, or anything else useful.
      We had a smaller group this time, but we were a little more jovial, knowing that we had found what we expected. Captain was smiling, which was a rarity in itself, and we made very good time. I actually got up the courage to ask the question we were all dying to ask, and the one which all of the older, 'wiser' group members had left unsaid, I queried the captain as to how he had known about the cache in the cave.
      He smiled a little, and looked at me a little closer.
      "History, Ensign Hayes. Do they still teach that at the Academy these days?"
      "Yes, sir," I nodded while I said it, knowing that I was obviously missing something.
      "Ah, well, Mr. Hayes, I think that maybe you never heard about what was one of my earliest space journeys. The fact that I was there ensures that I know about it, but few others have heard the details of Captain Cosina's exploratory adventures. I thought perhaps more would have, but then again, perhaps it is good that most haven't. I happened to be on this very planet when I was a bit older than you are, when we were staging supplies for a terraforming team which was to be coming through along with initial supplies to start a colony here. We delivered three caches like these. The initial terraforming was accomplished, here at least, but the follow-on colony was never approved. The caches weren't recovered, since the cost of recovering them far outweighed their value. I knew there was one here. There are two more in this system. Anyway, I am glad we found this one and that it was fairly intact, especially the power packs."
      With that information to digest, I moved back a little. There were two more. There were two more! I started to grin and couldn't help but let it spread into a full smile.
      When we returned to our camp, Captain asked us to build a fire, then moved off a ways with Major Chowdhury for a private discussion. It turned out that this order was not as easily accomplished as one might expect. Apparently, matches, lighters, flares, heaters, and anything of that sort were not considered essential for a standard emergency kit. Finally, after about twenty minutes of futility, Chowdhury returned, took over, and we had a fire in two minutes. "Ensigns," she muttered as she walked away.
      We ate better than usual with two animals that Jherri had caught, and enjoyed the fruit that she and her group had found as well. I was seated on a small log we had carried nearer to the fire, and Captain Brighton sat next to me. He leaned over and asked me what I was thinking.
      I paused, startled at the familiarity implied in the remark, but quickly replied, "Sir, I was just thinking this has been the longest day of my life."
      He smiled. "Just wait, Ensign."
      Later, Captain Brighton had called us all together to outline for everyone the full version of what he had told me earlier.
      Captain let the information soak in, and then continued, "What we found in the cave here on Antoc-A3 demonstrates what I was hoping for. The supplies are all likely still out there and the power cells are functional," he said as he looked to each of us, drawing us in with his eyes. "Ladies and gentlemen, I intend to take us to each of those caches and recover enough of the power cells to take Vanguard out of this system on her jump drive. I intend to take us home."
      I was smiling. We were going to be headed home soon. The general air, though, seemed subdued. It was a big change from what most had been expecting, which was more along the lines of Robinson Crusoe, waiting for rescue. Not for me. If I remembered my Literature class correctly, Crusoe waited 28 years for rescue.
      The planetary dawn was maybe an hour or two off at the most, based on the slight lightening No Change[“lighting” or “lightning”?] of the horizon when we settled back to try to get some rest. I was amazed when I looked over and saw that the captain was already asleep. He had probably fallen asleep as soon as he lay down, since he couldn't have gotten to his spot more than a few moments ahead of me.
      Mackey was charged to lead the guard duty for the remainder of the night. I saw him talking with the other four who would be staying up, as I began to settle myself in for some much needed shut-eye. While I couldn't quite make out who was with him, I was confident that they were up to the task. I knew that I sure wasn't, at this point. If my mental calculations were correct, which I was unsure of due to that selfsame lack of sleep, I had been awake, moving, and quite frankly, working hard, for about 42 standard hours. Those with Mackey had gotten at least a full four hours of sleep by rotating watches while I had been cave hunting. I was hoping to get at least that much.
      Sleep came quickly for me as well, but I was still baffled by how quickly it seemed to have come for the captain.

Science Fiction with a Message...

Quick Book Review

Mission of Honor by David Weber

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


The ending was somewhat disappointing. Space opera needs a big space battle! The political maneuvering is still as accurate and logical as ever, given the standard logic for politicians, and on the whole, I enjoyed it.



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