ComplicationsIndy was being chased. Again.More Like This
He pounded through the cool night air, boots thudding pavement, whip and holster jostling on his belt with a familiar rhythm. He was always running. What was up with that?
And behind him: Nazis. Always Nazis. Some things never changed
Starting to feel the bloom of a stitch in his side, Indiana Jones found the end of this particular dark alley and turned a corner, skidding slightly on one boot, balancing himself with the touch of a gloved palm against brick.
Shouts of Anhalten! from behind as he disappeared from sight. But soon, they'd make the same corner and probably start shooting. They'd held off for now, thinking they could maybe catch him, retrieve the Prize without damaging it. But they wouldn't risk losing him again. He knew only seconds remained before
Shit! A dark shape emerged from the night before him, ri
Perseus 2: Perseus has BreakfastI made my way down the mountain in crisp morning sunlight, staggering a bit. I felt weak but deliriously happy; I may have even sung a little.More Like This
It was a short trek to the first signs of civilization. I'm sure people stared but at least they were polite about it: it's not every day a half-naked skeleton of a man bearing a black-diamond sword strides into town. But frankly I only had one thing on my mind.
I found the inn easily enough, remembered it from my last journey through. It wasn't open yet but that didn't stop me. I parked my tired bones on a bench outside, propped the adamantine sword beside me and watched the world for a time. It was a good day to be alive.
The proprietor found me soon enough.
"Your name wouldn't be Perseus, would it?"
I opened my eyes. Apparently I'd dozed off in the warm sunshine. I studied the woman before me, plainly dressed in a coarse-weave peplos. She was yo
Writer's BlockI first met Alistair Creaux at WritersCon '97, and from the first words he uttered to me in a drunken slur I knew he was destined for greatness: Sometimes I get an idea and it's so so sweet I'll just ride it like a buckin bronc and donkey-punch that fucker.More Like This
I'd nodded sagely, not quite understanding but impressed by his zeal. Once I'd actually read Creaux's work it all made sense. Wonderful, crazy sense. He wrote like a combination of Hunter S. Thompson, William Burroughs, and Stephen King. Epic storytelling, accessible to the common man, but shot through with Deeper Meaning for those willing to delve.
His fame skyrocketed since I'd discovered him. He was BorderHouse's number one draw; every book pre-sold by the millions as soon as it was announced, anticipated by rabid fans (Creauxians, they called themselves) and lovingly dissected on numerous internet fan sites around the world. Two of his books had beco
Weather BalloonDale's hands were shaking so badly he could barely dial the phone.More Like This
"Whiteman Air Force base. How may I direct your call?"
Dale took a deep breath. He had to sound calm, credible.
"I just saw a UFO. I mean, I'd like to report a sighting"
"One moment please," came the reply. No judgment, no surprise, no laughter. Maybe they handled this sort of thing all the time. Dale listened to military recruitment ads while he waited, which was good because it allowed him to organize his thoughts.
The voice on the phone sounded weary, world-worn.
"I'd like to report an unidentified flying object. A machine, actually, hovering over my property. It was circular, maybe 60 feet in diameter, and it emitted a blue glow"
"Son, hold on a sec. You saw a what?"
Dale sighed. "A flying saucer. I swear, that's what it was. Hov
Science is Awesome Stewart found Gary in the lab, exactly where he had been sitting the night before. The light from the computer screen gave his skin a sickly glow.More Like This
"Tell me you got some sleep last night."
Gary shook his head, not bothering to take his eyes off the screen. "I had a breakthrough right before it was time to clock out, so I stayed here to do a little extra work."
"This project of yours had better be worth all the work." Stewart pulled his lab coat off the wall hook and pulled it on. "It'd be really nice to show up the guys in Lab Six. Those geneticists think they're so great."
Gary tapped away at his keyboard while Stewart talked. "Don't worry. When they see this, Lab Six will be begging us for our secrets."
He had made such promises before, and Stewart had to take a week off every time. Sometimes it was a side e