#which seems like a miserable way to spend one’s finite time on this here planet but he’s an adult who makes his own choices

[shiroikabocha]

You’re right, though I was being unfairly glib—I don’t think Trevor or Lifthrasir come across as resentful of the animal kingdom, not exactly. In a vacuum, their statements are pretty shocking, but taken in context they make a little more sense.

Trevor was explaining why he chose to devote his life to preserving human intelligence, so he lists the things that make humans, specifically, a species worth preserving. In a meta sense, Trevor’s defensiveness feels like a response to the “humans are the real virus/nature is healing” talk that got popular during the height of Covid when people were dying in droves—the Talos Principle universe probably had that sentiment even worse than we did. Trevor is talking back to the people who say the death of humanity would be a net benefit for the planet, but we don’t hear those people, so Trevor comes across as weirdly defensive against, like, the concept of snails.

Regarding Lifthrasir, I think it’s really interesting that TTP2 wrote a philosopher character who wanders the forests and meditates not on his similarity to the creatures around him, but on what makes him unique, distinct, and different from the rest of the natural world. I understand where he’s coming from, even if he expresses it differently than I probably would. It is important to recognize that even if a deer evokes deep emotions in a person, the deer isn’t doing that on purpose. But I also agree that Lifthrasir oversimplifies things when he says the deer is beholden only to its instincts—humans are capable of making much more complex plans and decisions than animals generally can, but animals still think and decide. Their consciousness is extremely different from ours, but I’d argue it is still consciousness.

Both Lifthrasir and Trevor are responding to societies where the ideal of an ecosphere completely untouched by man seems like an imminently achievable goal, so I understand why they criticize the idea more vociferously than somebody might in our world. It’s true that we, in real life, have to re-think our model of human interaction with nature—recognize that we’re a part of the ecosystem, not separate from it, and that trying to preserve pristine, untouched wilderness isn’t the best model for ecological heath. But our scales are tipped sooooo far toward too much human influence on our environment with too little thought behind it that the push for humans to quit fucking around with Mother Nature! is more of a reasonable over-correction than an actionable plan for civilization. The total extinction/dome-ification of the human species is as bad an idea in our world as it is in Trevor’s and Lifthrasir’s, but it’s not as imminent, likely, or distressingly popular in our world as it is in theirs.

Ugh, sorry for so much rambling! This game makes me think All The Thoughts, which is exactly what it’s supposed to do. I’m certainly not done talking about it but I think I need to rest my brain for a bit before I jump back in. It’s a lot to process!

walking along a path on the forested plateau, startled as a whole-ass DEER runs across the path in front of me—how cool! The first game felt so quiet and static, I really like the addition of animal life to the spaces around the puzzles! Really makes it feel like part of the world!

Oh hey, it’s another voice log from Trevor. What’s he got to say?

TREVOR: I like humans because animals are bullshit, they are boring and all they do is crap and die, lol

…wtf, Trevor? You don’t have to shit on every other species just to say you like humans. Jeez. Well, here’s another log by Lithrasir! Hopefully less disappointing.

LITHRASIR: This morning I was struck by the beauty of a stag standing against the sunset sky…

Ah, see? Here’s a guy who can appreciate the unique beauty of other life forms!

LITHRASIR: …but if we look more closely, we realize that the image is meaningless; a stag is a very stupid creature, all it does is fuck and die.

WHY ARE YOU GUYS DUNKING ON MAMMALS??? What is the point of this exercise???

[ecotone99]

[SF] Vacuum

The bright light of a new Martian day stung Linda’s eyelids long before she woke up. The night before was scrambled in her mind, turning and twisting like her stomach, who wanted to eject anything left in her stomach. The grease of pizza or kebab or some other mass of food left on her tongue, sour and strange. In the foggy delirium just before waking, she wondered why she had left the blinds up at her apartment and why it felt so hot. Since when had she ever opened them when the sun blazed so brightly? Then she realised, she wasn’t sleeping alone.

Her eyes shot open, fully awake in the time she realised and feeling her heart thump so loud she thought her companion would wake up. That alone was enough to make her feel sick, for all the fears to come rushing back, her mother would ask ‘what have you done this time?’ and she heard her ask this of her, over and over in her head.

Linda tried to think back on the night before, the nightclub lights flashing wildly above and around her, the drinks that she had downed one after the other. She probably did something embarrassing, everyone did when they were that far gone and her pounding head only confirmed it. She pushed further back; the day before, she had gone to class, met up with Daisy and they had decided to celebrate their graduation. The pair of them laughing, she felt her hair being tugged out of her face as she vomited on the pavement, her nose and eyes all watering. At least one of them could hold their drink.

“Lin?” Daisy whispered, hearing her loud, heavy breaths. “You awake?”

Her mind was racing too fast to comprehend her words. Linda could see her parents, hear their disappointed words, their condescension and judgement of every moment she made. This was her first drunken outing, they couldn’t find out or she’d be dragged back, dragged away from the academy. She could feel her stomach drop the thirty floors below them and the panic only worsened after that. How could she do this? Why did she do it? Why did she have to be so different? Why couldn’t she do something right?

“Yeah.” She wasn’t sure why she mumbled it or why she stayed so tight in the bedsheets. She hoped that she could hide herself from Daisy, so ashamed she wished the sheets would choke her where she lay. What would her parents say? “Did we?”

“I’ll say.” Daisy chuckled. “Unless we got naked to play VR together.”

“Why would we...?”

“Something my brother talks about. Apparently it spices things up, although I don’t know how fumbling like that can spice anything up.” Daisy moved her hand over Linda’s waist. “You sure you’re okay? You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

Daisy paused where she was caressing her and retracted her hand slowly. “You don’t remember last night, do you?”

Linda covered her face with her hands, too ashamed to allow herself to be seen. “I shouldn’t be here, I’m not... I wasn’t... I’m not a whore, I wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone or-or-”

“I never thought you were, Lin, I don’t think you’re capable of being that cruel.”

The choked sobs she was trying to hold back came forward at so much velocity, she thought she was going to fall off the bed. Once they started, she found it difficult to stop them, the carousel of cold voices and judgemental faces spinning around her head, all the misery hitting her all at once. Daisy was taken aback, trying to comfort her by wrapping her arms cautiously around her and Linda knew she should have pushed away, but didn’t have the strength to. She needed Daisy more than she needed anyone else, a friend as well as a one night stand.

“Let me get you something.”

“No! No, just...” She turned and held Daisy tightly back, continuing to sob, knowing that her failure would become known soon enough and she’d have to face it. But for now she wanted someone to comfort her and thrust that all on Daisy without a second thought. They embraced for a while, naked in the bright sunlight and amongst the mess of clothes and sheets that clumsily littered Daisy’s room.

Linda found herself looking at the hangings on the wall of Earthen sports teams, of paintings Daisy had picked up from Mars and the letters and certificates she pinned on the wall from her family and friends. Beneath it all was pale blue walls, subtle compared to her friends navy hair, reaching just past her chin. Her eyes dark and striking, able to pierce a man from thirty paces with startling conviction.

Daisy was popular at the astroneering academy, able to talk to all the men who attended without any reservations; she was smart, the top in their class and so beautiful that Daisy didn’t understand why none of the men around them had asked her out. Waking up in her room had answered that question, at least. But Daisy was a marvel, unlike anyone Linda had ever known.

Linda wished she was like her, confident in her own skin and charming. Instead she was the outcast, the average student that faded into the background, never to be observed fully if anyone could help it. The tears tried to come back as she thought of this, but it was easily pushed away as it had been many times before.

“I’m sorry.” Linda pulled away gently and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “That was... A lot.”

“It’s...” But Daisy knew she couldn’t let the moment go, or try to comfort her in empty lies. “Is it me?”

“What? No. Never. How could it be you?”

She smiled a bit. “I’m a bit... Different, you know? Eccentric, people tell me. Fancy word for too weird to be normal.”

“You’re amazing.” Linda told her firmly, but could already feel the churning inside her. “But it’s not you. I just... I’m not meant to be gay.” She shook her head, aware of how insane it sounded when said aloud. “I was... All this is just a faze, just a-a moment of weakness.”

Daisy stared at her. In any other moment, she might’ve laughed, but after seeing Linda broken down so low, she couldn’t even dream of it. “Who says?”

“My parents, for one. The rest of the world for another.” “Who gives a damn if you’re gay? On this world or on Earth? Last I checked this weren’t 1905.”

“No, but-”

“Why do your parents have any right to tell you what you are?”

“It’s not about that, I-I'm supposed to do better. To be better than that.”

“How does it...” Daisy trailed off, anger quickly resulting to pity, the first person to truly see all the pressures that she was under and the toxic lies she had been fed. “Linda... You are better. Worlds better, you’ve got into astroneering with me, only two years older, you’re doing well and excelling and the pair of us should pass this year.”

“You will. I won’t.”

“Why the hell not? You passed all the practice exams, only a few marks behind the top boys.”

“Top girl.” Linda corrected with a little smile.

“Well the boys won’t like you saying that.” Daisy smiled back. “See they think that I’m calling their cocks tiny when I remind them that I’m thrashing them at all the tests. But really their cocks are fucking miniscule.”

Linda laughed a bit, rubbing one of her eyes and feeling the residual tears drying on her face. Regardless of what Daisy said, she still felt that it was all futile. Her parents wouldn’t accept her the way she was, just like they wouldn’t accept her heading to astroneering academy and would only express that through the icy coldness of passive aggressiveness.

She wasn’t strong enough to go there, amongst all those men, she was only a girl still and needed time in more corporate sectors before making her choice. She needed to find a good man, this lesbian faze would pass like all others in high school, she knows if she doesn’t then she’ll be picked on, that’s just how school is. She’ll change her mind in a year or two at that silly academy, head back home and her father would find her a job at his firm and everything would go back to normal.

Linda never knew what normal was in their house, only that she never seemed to be part of it. Normal was for her to wake up as a different person and each time she didn’t, she felt as if she disappointed everyone including herself. She didn’t feel that way with Daisy. If it was all futile and finite, if it was all temporary, then she was glad, at least, to spend that time with her.

Three years had passed since that morning and Linda was thinking heavily about it as they rode in the limo along the main strip in New York, towards the TV studio. Daisy was beside her, wearing a short purple dress that revealed a little too much cleavage for Linda to approve – which was exactly why she chose it. Daisy was looking out the window, drinking in all the sights and gasping and snapping pictures at every small thing she recognised. But Linda was lost in her thoughts, looking lazily out her window, feeling herself reflect heavily on all they had done since then.

Linda found Earth to be a very strange planet to walk around on and she felt constantly sick since they arrived a few days ago. It was like she was trying to balance on a small wisp of air just under her feet and her stomach hadn’t let her eat more than a few hundred calories a day because of it. Her agent rejoiced, of course, but she only felt miserable from it.

It didn’t take long for the press to eagerly pounce on two aspiring, young recent graduates of the newly founded astroneering academy and they had been pushed by many Martian and Earthling space agencies to become the main mascots. It was the perfect coupling, with Linda being the sensible, technical half and Daisy being the eccentric, enthusiasm that seemed to sell with the younger crowd. Linda expected the PR as soon as they realised they were two of five in their class who had passed and women to boot, but never expected how eagerly everyone ate up their story. The only small part that she was scared about was their relationship and how closely the press were toeing the line in terms of confirming it.

“I don’t know about this.” Linda had said whilst lounging in their apartment as she read one of many articles about them, her fingers tired from scrolling and tapping on the slew of news webpages.

“About what? You’ll have to tell them eventually.”

Linda shook her head, placing the tablet down. “I’ll tell them when they’re ready.”

“They’ll never be ready.”

“Exactly.” Linda moved swiftly into the kitchen, as if she could end the discussion.

Daisy rolled her eyes and followed, like she always did. “The papers haven’t said anything yet, because we haven’t confirmed anything yet and they won’t until we give them the say-so.”

“But our agents-”

“Work for us so if they spill the beans, we can sue them.” She assured her. “As always, you’re panicking over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!”

“You need to calm down.”

Linda had calmed down eventually, but it was a lot of work, as it always was. It had been difficult to explain anything to her parents since the pair of them got together, as every word felt like a betrayal towards them. She believed if she were stronger willed or held her principles like a shield towards them, the conversation would go smoother. But each time she recited it to herself, she could see their faces and all the regret and disappointment would steer her away again.

The off-planet missions of star cruises, colony ships, goods transports and other excursions paid by the ridiculously wealthy were enough to keep the pair of them busy enough so she rarely got to visit her parents. Yet still with every visit, the gaps in their conversation grew longer and longer and the questions were shorter and sparsely asked. The awkwardness had grown to the point where none of them seemed to know each other very well and were disinterested in changing it.

“It’s so cool here.” Daisy said, taking more pictures. “We should get an apartment here, in New York.”

“Come on.” Linda replied, unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice. “Like we could afford a flat here.”

“We totally could. Maybe a cute condo, I’ve never seen one but I bet they’re nice.”

She chuckled. “I don’t think they do condos in New York.”

“We should check before we go. And get pizza, can’t go to New York without having pizza! Or is it cheesesteak? Hey, we could get both!”

“Please, don’t mention food...”

“Alright, miss I’m-too-important-to-have-normal-food-like-normal-people.” Daisy mocked.

“Well, at least I’m not pigging out before I head back into space.”

“It’s a colony job, nothing I can’t handle on a full stomach.”

“Unless you throw up in your suit.”

Daisy hadn’t thought that far ahead and made a face, suddenly switching tactics: “Alright, maybe just some pizza, then.”

It had been two hours since the Hudson had started its journey towards Mars and the restlessness that came with an intergalactic journey had long since bored the hotshot pilots. Linda could tell, mainly because Daisy was starting music from her end and ignoring her objections.

“Not everyone likes that oldie stuff, Daisy.”

“Good that only you and me are listening to it, then.”

“For now.”

“Oh, come on. You love it.”

Linda’s eyes wandered back to the screen that showed Daisy’s face tucked into her spacesuit, operating the controls set in front of her. She rolled them to impress upon her how much she cared about such spectacles, which made Daisy laugh, which always ended in a little snort.

“Stop it, piggy.” Linda replied, mimicking the snort.

“You stop it! I swear to God...”

Another snort and Daisy scowled at her, which made Linda laugh. “Never! Not when you react like that.”

The Hudson lumbered forward, a humongous ship that housed hundreds of men and women who were awaiting a new life on Mars, many of the passengers were children who were the most excited of them all. There was something magical in seeing their wonder as the Earth seemed to fall from beneath them and the glorious red planet loomed ahead. Even some of the adults couldn’t hide their excitement, reliving all they had felt once as children, looking towards the moon and hoping one day to reach it – never imagining they’d travel further still.

To Linda and Daisy, this was a job that they had performed so many times without hiccups and other times with the smallest of hassles thrown in to keep them on their toes. With all the interviews, appearances and inspirational articles written about their rise to be champions in astroneering, Linda imagined a bit more glamour than sitting in a pilot’s chair, tucked far away from the rich customers. But Daisy would enthuse about every aspect, seeing the stars as another sea to conquer and other worlds were islands waiting to be explored.

“It’s not quite as star trekky as she makes it out to be.”

“Well, we probably won’t bump into God on our daily commute, but she’s miserable anyway.”

“Miserable? I’m not telling people we’re pioneers wearing ugly belt hats!”

“You did wear that for Halloween, though.”

The laughter from the crowd echoed through her head and Linda had taken it with a smile, unable to think of anything wittier to defend her case. The sea of faces behind the glare of stage lights and cameras almost appeared creepy to her and for most of the night she was just trying to keep her eyes on the host and listened to Daisy’s natural charm steal the show. It all was going well enough, until he had asked them about their relationship.

“No comment.” She had blurted without thinking, so fast that there was no way that there wasn’t something to be said. She had felt her blood rush to her cheeks and a few tears prick her eyes as the whispering washed through the crowd and the host looked at the sea of faces, pulling a comedic one himself.

Daisy took her hand and this caught Linda’s eye for a long time. Her look was very simple – this was it, this was when they had to tell the world, say that they were together, that they were a couple regardless of what anyone thought. The heat and sweat that gripped Linda wasn’t just from the stage lighting and she buckled, completely and utterly, shaking her head slightly and leaving it at that. The night had progressed on but her mind only regressed, making sure she knew how badly she had hurt her lover and their future together.

“Do you remember the night we slept together for the first time?” Linda asked as her thoughts wandered to the first night and the morning after.

“’Course I do. Most of it, anyway. I mainly remember how eager you were to buy me a drink after you had a few and how badly you managed to dance.” Daisy smiled at her, but noticed the thoughtful frown etched on her pretty face. “Lin?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re thinking about something, I can see the steam coming out of your ears.”

She smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes before sighing. “I’m just thinking about that night. It was Martian Independence day, right?”

“I remember, because-”

“Because we weren’t sad drunk, I know.” She repeated, almost by heart. “But I never met anyone like you. You know that? Nobody who could steal a room like that.”

“I was drunk, so I was probably screaming until someone paid attention. A drama queen, through and through.” Daisy was smiling, but it was a concerned smile, worried about why they were reminiscing. “Lin-”

“You made me do karaoke with you.”

“Did I? Did we?”

“Only for... The beginning, I think?”

Daisy made a face as if she could hear the cat screeching tones already and shrugged apologetically, believing there was some point and allowing her to go on.

“Nobody used to notice me in the academy. Or at school, or at work, or anywhere – nobody saw me, they saw straight through me and I was used to that. But then you came along and I just... I knew I couldn’t live like that anymore.” She looked back at her, unsure herself where all this came from, but feeling her throat clog. “I wanted people to see me, I wanted you to see me.”

“Oh, Lin...” She smiled so warmly, glancing back to the picture she had developed from their New York trip and pinned to her ship, near her hand so she could reach it. She touched Linda’s face gently while keeping her eyes on the screen, imagining her musk and perfume intertwined. “Where has this all come from?”

“I don’t know.” Linda admitted. “I’m just... Thinking.”

“Was it the interview we did? Was it too much, or-?”

“No.” Linda admitted. “It almost did, I mean... He really wanted us to say something, but...”

“Did your parents contact you?”

Linda paused, unable to look at her, pretending to tap buttons on her ship’s dashboard to make it seem as though she was preoccupied. If Daisy saw she was attending to the ship, she wouldn’t know the truth, wouldn’t be able to see it in her face despite how much it hurt. But she wasn’t as much of an idiot as Linda thought and she heard the deep sigh to confirm it.

“What did they say?"

“It doesn’t matter what they said.”

“Yeah, it does. You’ve been putting it off for years, what did they say?”

She took a deep breath as if she could alleviate the tears that swelled in her throat and pricked in her eyes. She closed them and looked away again, keeping herself contained, keeping all she felt bottled as if the implosion couldn’t happen if she resisted it long enough. Her chest ached from the pressure, but she didn’t care, she could die from it for all she cared, as long as nobody saw it.

“Lin?”

“What I expected.” She admitted. “They can’t have a daughter like me, can’t see me burn in hell for what I do, what I decide to do. I’m not...” She tried to swallow the lump that forced its way into the back of her neck, pushing at her chest. “I’m not good enough for them. Probably never was.”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s what they said!” She snapped back. “And... And they think it’s your fault, of course, for tempting me. Saying that I just hadn’t found the right man yet.” She couldn’t hide the cracks in her voice, the tremble with every word she said.

“They’re such fucking dinosaurs, they didn’t actually say that, what year is this 1985?”

Linda rubbed her tears away and took a deep breath. “I guess it doesn’t matter. They’ve taken me out of their life until I’ve found the right man.”

“Which’ll be never.” Daisy reaffirmed. “So what? You’re better off without them.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Why, because I’m the orphan girl who became a fearsome space pilot?” She retorted, pausing a moment before continuing. “They haven’t been your parents for years. They've made you hide and scurry like you’re a damn mouse in your own home, it’s not right.”

“Daisy-”

“Don’t try to defend them. You know it and I know it, they’re a bunch of self-serving bastards who wouldn’t know a loving relationship if it bit them on the ass.”

“Dee-”

“No, you won’t shut me up on this, they don’t deserve you, they never have and they never will-”

“We got three bogeys incoming!” Linda exclaimed over her, flipping the switch to get the colonists to their seats, flipping other switches to keep gravity and life support online and sliding against buttons to use all residual power to activate the shields, trying to watch the attackers on the radar they had.

Daisy flew above and behind the Hudson, expertly avoiding the tail and engines of the ship and sitting alongside it as it continued to drift through space. Her craft was small, agile and powered with weaponry capable of holding back three fighters that approached. She revelled in the confidence she felt, but Linda kept her caution close, unsure why only three would attack from such an obvious position.

Plasma fired against the shields and made minimal damage to them and she watched from the monitors as the ships flew and spun above, attempting to get around the shields and meeting Daisy instead. Her fire kept them away for the moment, but the craft was moving too slow and they were moving too fast. One by one the spacecraft approached, fired and tried to find a way to reach the nose of the colony ship, to dismember the crew but Daisy was sharp enough to catch them out, to fire where they intended to go and scaring them off.

The fourth time the ships approached, Linda kept her eyes on the pilot seat, seeing something unusual but unsure what it was in the pilot’s seat. She believed it was some kind of mask, maybe a faction formed with dishonoured air force pilots. She squinted her eyes as the ship at the front gained speed and she realized too late what the inconsistency was and cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. The pilot’s seat was empty, the mask attached to the head of the seat to fool whoever was looking and be used as a kamikaze tactic.

The impact of the ship on the shields was hard enough to shudder the colony ship and the screams she heard from the back only confirmed the fear they all felt. She tried to force the ship to go faster, but there was only so much that could be done when shields were so badly damaged. She kept moving, reminding everyone to stay in their seats and warning them of future impacts.

“What the fuck was that?!” Daisy exclaimed. “He just died, he just fucking killed himself!”

“It was a remote ship, Daze! They were using it as a decoy, our shields are down to 20% and everything’s going at a crawl!”

“Leave it with me!”

Linda trusted Daisy to keep everyone on the ship safe, but was always concerned about her methods. Despite this she worked to give her all the help she would need, expanding the shield so she would be protected as long as possible. She could hear their ground control barking in her ear, insisting that the civilians came first, but that choice wasn’t one she could easily make. Daisy was their last defence; without her, there was no Hudson, only a ship filled with hostages.

Daisy’s craft drifted below the Hudson and behind the shield, avoiding it entirely despite Linda’s efforts and she headed straight upwards towards the ship. Many men turned pirate made the mistake of thinking that piloting a plane, or a submarine and a spacecraft was only a matter of different schematics – always forgetting that any spaceship acted on an almost limitless plane. In space, there were no limitations of wind resistance or gravity and insane manoeuvres that could kill men on Earth could win battles in space and Daisy used this knowledge to fight back, to speed vertical to stop one ship’s almost unstoppable movement and twist back like the snap of an elbow, firing constantly into the ship’s hull.

Her major mistake was forgetting about the last ship, that was moving overhead and had easily turned to fire back to her, forcing her to take the harsh shots rather than avoid them. Holes were easily torn through her ship and Linda swore to hearing Daisy scream out in fear and pain. Her target was shot to pieces and the dismembered pilot was afloat beside his torn craft. Daisy’s ship was nearly destroyed, hanging in space like a corpse floating in water, Linda held her breath, feeling her tears and fear twist her stomach and her hands trembled at the controls.

“Daisy!” She cried.

There was no way of knowing if the exclamation woke up her lover or if Daisy was fully aware the whole time and waiting for the opportune moment to strike as her opponent raced towards its prey. But in a few final, decisive shots, the final ship’s engine exploded and took the pilot easily with it. The light was there and gone in a quick flash, the fire not even having time to blaze before the blackness of space took it. But she found there was no room to celebrate.

“Daisy? Daisy, please respond, please!” Linda repeated, trying to restore the picture of the webcam but having no luck, knowing she wouldn’t have any luck. “Please! You have to say something! Daisy!”

“I’m here.” She croaked. “Just about.”

“Listen to me, y-you have to turn the ship around, you have to head back to the Hudson before we get too far away. You have to come back to us.”

“The ship’s dead, Linda. It’s not moving... And my oxygen’s hit.”

“Wh-what?”

“I... I’m sorry.” She mumbled, coughing through the microphone, hard enough for Daisy to feel the blood. “I-I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“Y-you’re not, you’re not putting me through anything. You’re coming back to us.”

She took a deep breath. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t, the ship is too far gone, it’s not-”

Linda slammed her fist on the desk. “Stop talking like this! We can figure this out!”

“We’ve got five minutes, you have to let me talk, please! For me!” Daisy took a ragged breath, scared it would be her last and allowing Linda to hear that fear. “I have loved you so much I didn’t think it was possible.” Daisy said. “You’ve made me laugh... You’ve made me cry and you’ve been the best person I ever knew. I want-w-wanted to ask you that night, on the show. I wanted to tell the world that I didn’t care wh-what anyone th-thought, th-that I wanted to love you like ev-everyone should’ve done from the moment y-you were born. I even got a ring.”

Linda opened her mouth, but closed it, her mind whirring with all that was happening, it couldn’t be happening. Her tears started to run unbidden and her heart was shattering in her chest, splintering the skin beneath and her lungs so she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to hold her breath, to stop it. The lightbulb lit her mind and the fear ceased the moment the spark of hope sprung upon her and she grasped for it, holding it tight as she continued to cry, to sob even as she spoke.

“You’re not dying today! Not if there’s a breath left in me, Daisy Jackson, and you will ask me that question yourself, not over a damn call.” Linda ordered coldly, grasping the radio and rushing through the doors, heading to the airlock bays. “You’re going to eject from your seat and aim yourself towards the airlock.”

“You’ll never make it.”

“Fucking watch me!” She exclaimed, panting. “I’ll catch you, like I’ve always caught you and I’ll bring you back.”

“Lin-”

“I will bring you back! I promise you!”

Daisy stared at the picture of her and Linda, laughing together and holding one another that night in New York. It felt like years ago and some of her blood smeared the picture, but she knew she had to believe. It was all she could do and all she had to do and it was the most painful effort to move her arm, but she did it, she gave herself the chance that Linda fought for. She prayed one last time, never for herself, but for Linda, praying for her success and her strength if she were to fail. She had to believe and she always had believed in Linda, without fail.

Daisy took a long, deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut before pulling on the ejector seat and flying into the choking darkness of space. She had fifteen seconds before she was unconscious and she counted them, trying to force the cliché of seeing each moment of her life before she died, but seeing nothing but Linda. Her chest constricted and she could feel the spacesuit she wore fight to protect her skin and blood and bones, but before she could think anymore she was unconscious and floating towards the airlock.

Linda suited up faster than she ever had before and had secured her oxygen just as Daisy lost consciousness, there was little room for praying in her mind but all her hopes pinned on her success and survival. Releasing the airlock was easy and seeing her target in the black abyss was one thing, but reaching and bringing her back was quite another and she was aware of every second that passed was another percentage of unlikelihood of Daisy coming back to her. She pushed herself out, powering towards her with the jet pack on her back and counting every moment it took.

She grabbed Daisy’s arm first, then forced on the reverse thrust, pulling her back and racing as fast as she could against the clock, feeling her limp hand underneath the suit, unable to imagine a world without her, unable to accept an entire universe without a Daisy. She closed her eyes, begging to herself, screaming as if the extra air released from her lungs would be enough to save a life before they both tumbled through the airlock and she forced it closed. There was no time for the spacesuit, no time to think about anything else.

The helmet came off Daisy’s head and Linda’s hands were on her chest, pounding against her heart and her lips pressed against her mouth as she exhaled into her lungs. Over and over she repeated the process; there wasn’t room for a universe without a Daisy, there wasn’t room for Linda without her, there wasn’t a world where she could live away from her.

“Come on.” She said to herself as she pounded against her chest, trying to ignore her limp, lifeless face, pressing her warm lips against her ice-cold ones. Linda couldn’t accept it. “Come on! Come on, you fucking bitch! Don’t leave me! Don’t do this to me!” Her breaths entered her lungs, her hands pounded on her chest, the process repeated and she kept trying, she kept hoping. It was all she could do.

The shudder that reverberated through Daisy’s body was like a bolt of lightning shot through from her lungs out to her fingertips. Then she started to cough heavily before she gasped in the breaths she had missed, trying to catch her breaths that had escaped her mere minutes before. Her eyes were bulging and tearful, but Linda was unable to stop herself, her sobbing worsened from all the fear she felt moments before.

Daisy’s eyes fixed on hers and tears filled them. She remembered everything, feeling the pounding in her head and the pain in her chest. The blackness that dragged her down all at once and the voice in her ear, telling her that she wouldn’t die. Linda had done it, she had kept her promise as she always did and Daisy’s hand lofted very gently, but Linda took it, kissing her hand and releasing a relieved laugh through broken sobs – knowing she would never doubt again.

(AN: thank you for reading, all comments are welcome!)

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[swipestream]

Short Reviews – Joe Carson’s Weapon, by James R. Adams

Joe Carson’s Weapon appeared in the Spring 1945 issue of Planet Stories. It can be read here at Archive.org

Joe Carson’s Weapon may be about the most PoMo thing I’ve read in Planet Stories.

A kid writes into his favorite sci-fi pulp magazine and a pair of Martians whose orders are to take over the earth take the kid’s letter at face value.

While it definitely wasn’t my thing, there were some pretty good laughs to be had on this one. The best part, perhaps, is the nearly page length “letter” to the editor that Joe Carson sends in, which absolutely captures the very essence of the most egregiously banal letters that ended up being printed in the pulps. The adventure itself is practically proto-Aqua Teen Hunger Force with the Martians being completely daft and incompetent while complimenting one another on their superior intellects or saying deliciously comic self-congratulatory stuff like “Yes, we are truly martyrs. My only regret is, I have but nine tentacles to give for my species.” (Try not reading that in Oglethorpe the Plutonian’s voice.)

As a perfect lead-in to next week’s Retro-Fandom Friday, I’m including the entirety of Carson’s “Letter” (oh, my God, Adams nails how some of these letter writers write), but it might behoove you to check out the whole story:

Ye Humble Ed:

  Once again the keeper has negligently left my door unlatched and I slyly crawl from my cage, drawn by one, irrevocable purpose. Glancing hither and yon, to make sure I am unobserved, I dash to the fence and clear it with a prodigious leap that carries me half way to the corner drug-store.

  Snatching a tricycle from a gawking kid, I push his face in the mud and pedal furiously the remaining distance to the store. Leaping off, I rush in and batter my way through the screaming throng, shouting imprecations at all who stand in my way.

  Panting with exhaustion, I at last reach my goal and clutch it to my breast. The crowd surges forward and frantic hands grab at my prize.

  “It’s mine! All mine!” I shout in their faces. “No one can take it from me!”

  Galloping madly from the store I race swiftly across yards and up alleys, quickly losing the howling mob in the distance. Squatting under a street-lamp, I sneak a triumphant look at the treasure. What is it? Yep, you guessed it—Galactic Adventures!1

  But—shades of Major Mars!—what is that horrible monstrosity on the cover? A BEM, no less…an abominable, wretched BEM. Why, oh why, can’t we have at least one different cover painting? Wesley is no good. Get Marlini or Sidney to do the covers. I don’t mind a BEM now and then, but a steady diet of them soon palls on the palate. (Heh heh.) All joking aside, your covers are terrific.2

  Now we come to the task of rating the stories. Only one stands out in my mind as being of excellent quality. I refer to Arthur M. Ron’s super-epic, The Infinite Finite. The other stories paled into insignificance in comparison to this classic. More power to Ron! Percival’s Puissant Pulverizer and Nothing is Something follow Ron’s story in that order. The rest are not worth mentioning.3

  The interior illustrations are somewhat better than the cover, although, for the most part, they are inaccurate and do not follow the themes of the stories. Ye gods! Can’t your artists read? So much for the art, which wasn’t so much.4

  Say! What does that jerk, The Amphibious Android, mean by calling me a “mere child”? His assertion that I’m but a youth of fifteen is a good way off the beam. I’ve been reading Galactic Adventures for the past eight years and I was nine years old when I picked up my first copy, so figure it out for yourself. A jug of sour zeni to him. May fire burst out in his s. f. collection and utterly destroy it. No! I retract that. That’s too horrible a fate, even to visit upon The Amphibious Android. Let him wallow in his ignorance. I, The Super Intellect, will smile down on him and forgive him his sins.5

  That’s an interesting letter from Charlie Lane. The Miserable Mutant has propounded an amazing theory that has set me to wondering. Perhaps G. A. can induce one of its authors to work this theory into a story. I’m reserving my four wooden nickels right now for the tale, if it is written. I’ll even suggest a title—Those Who Are Froze In The Cosmos. How’s that? Well, I didn’t like it either.6

  Once again I tear my hair and roar: GIVE US TRIMMED EDGES!7 Ye Ed must know by now that the majority of fandom is in favor of trimmed edges. As it is, one comes suddenly to the most interesting part of a story, at the very bottom of a page and spends several moments feverishly attempting to gain a hold on the ragged edge and go on to the next passage. By the time he has accomplished this, he is a raving lunatic, a martyr to trimmed edges. I am not a crusader, as is The Misled Biped, but I insist on seeing justice done.

  As a whole, this is a fair issue. I might even call it good, if it were not for the artwork and stories. Ron’s epic will live forever in my mind, although its ending was rather weak and it could have developed into a more powerful tale by having the Slads all die in the Inferno.8

  I enter my plea for longer stories. A long novel by M. S. Jensen would be appreciated. His last, Dr. Higbaum’s Strange Manifestation, was a gem. On the other hand, short stories are not without merit and good old G. A. wouldn’t be the same without them. I believe the story policy had best remain as is.

  Give Higgins a rest. His yarns are rapidly degenerating into hack, with only four out of the last five meeting with this reader’s approval. I don’t like to be finicky, but it seems like he isn’t contributing his best material to G. A.

  Well, this missive is growing to huge proportions and I would like to see it in print, so I’d better sign off.

  Oh, yeh, almost forgot to comment on the departments. They are all good, with The Reader’s Opinion being the most interesting.9 Ye Ed’s ruminations come in for a close second. Do not change the departments in any way, although the quiz and the Strange Phenomena feature could be discontinued, without any great loss.

  Before I close, I wish to make a revelation which will rock the world. Yes, Ed, I have a secret weapon! Nothing can stand against this terrible invention and, with it, I could even destroy Earth, with Mars and Pluto thrown in for good measure. Beware, Ed, lest you arouse my ire and cause me, in my wrath, to unleash this vast force upon helpless, trusting mankind.

  Having read G. A. from cover to cover, I crawl back into my cage, drooling with delight. Prying up a loose stone in the center of the floor, I tenderly deposit the mag among the other issues of my golden hoard. Replacing the stone, I sigh contentedly and manipulate my lower lip with two fingers to indicate complete satisfaction. See you next issue!

  Joe Carson

  The Super Intellect

1. It was not uncommon for letters to begin with flash fiction (often sci-fi-themed) accounts of acquiring the latest issue, ranging from “So, I plunked my two dimes down at the newsstand…” to full-overblown stuff along the lines of the above. Adams really nails how bad many of these are.

2. Covers and quality of the covers were a frequent topic of discussion in Vizigraph. I do think that a lot of writers had justifiable complaints against several of Planet’s early-mid 40s artists, Parkhurst in particular, who, while he did do some good work now and then, had some pretty lousy compositions. Additionally, there was always the debate on whether the girls were too scandalous or not scandalous enough, or the fan who’d quip about the need to hide the front cover… not because of the dame but because of how embarrassingly bad they though Parkhurst’s cover was. Though it was clear that most of his iconic pieces were all based off the same handful of reference photos, Allen Anderson’s run was much better quality and much better received than Parkhurst’s.

3. Obvious joke titles aside, this could be word-for-word cropped from a real letter.

4. More frequent complaints about the interior illos. By the late 40s, the art was jibing with the stories a bit better, there was often a strange contradiction of tone when you’d get a hardboiled SF Noir story paired with Doolin’s illustrations of Flash Gordon silly hats and underwear on the outside.

5. SF Fandom has always been terrible, and letter cols were filled with this kind of stuff…

6. …which often had context lost as they referred to stories and letters from previous issues.

7. A big deal.

8. This and the next paragraphs are fairly characteristic of the unhelpfully contradictory feedback usually included in reader letters.

9. Oddly enough, Planet did get several letters saying that the Letters section was the only part worth reading. Imagine only reading a pulp zine for the yahoos writing in to complain about things! Part of the ostentatiousness of the letters, however, was almost certainly the result of the quarterly competition in which letter writers could vote on their favorite letters, with the top three vote-getters getting a shot at original pieces of interior art-work.

Short Reviews – Joe Carson’s Weapon, by James R. Adams published first on http://ift.tt/2zdiasi