Those who know me, know that I normally spurn fanciful, impractical space ship designs in my work. However, when I saw the picture above, it made me laugh: Wallenius, Greenpeace, a ship in space… and sent me off on a flight of fancy that spawned this brain spill, which has since morphed into a full short story. That story will be included in a collection of stories I’m working on. I may not be able to use this piece of art work in that book, but it should be OK here.
The Wallenius arrived on-site 4 days after she received a deep space radiogram relayed to her by Greenpeace central. The radiogram had been sent by a private yacht that had noticed a star cow had gotten tangled in a deep space communications array and could not extricate herself.
As the ship approached the array, Steve Preston worked the paddles that controlled the twin searchlights mounted in the ship’s bow, playing their beams along the massive array. It took several minutes to locate the creature.
“There she is. Five points up and 12 starboard.”
The helmsman adjusted course and the Wallenius slowly vectored in as they drew nearer to the array.
Janus stood beside Steve as they watched out the forward ports. Captain Andersen sat in the big chair in the center of the bridge, watching everything but saying nothing for the moment. The crew was trained to do this work, he trusted them to do their jobs.
Janus had chosen to wear her usual outfit of sandals, denim shorts and a too-tight tank top with a scoop neckline. Steve was having trouble keeping his eyes on his work with her standing so close. Her figure was a perfect blend of athletic and curvaceous. Topped with the face of an angel, framed in an ebony mane, he found her quite irresistible. Always had. Which is what led to their becoming lovers – and what led to their breakup when his jealous side flared.
“So, that’s a star cow.” Janus breathed Continue reading “Wallenius and the Star Cow”
What a person wears can sometimes tell us a fair bit about them. Someone in a uniform can be identified as a police officer, utility worker, fire fighter, or soldier. Someone in an expensive power suit is likely a business person. Sometimes clothing can tell us something about a person’s beliefs; A nun’s habit or priest’s collar, robes and shaved head of a Buddhist monk, the crisp white shirt and black tie & trousers commonly worm by Mormons working a neighborhood all tip us off to what they hold to be true about religion.
I am, I must confess Dear Reader, one of those people who has an opinion on just about everything and feels compelled to share it. Oh, you too? Fancy that! It is a great thing when our opinions about something mesh and we can celebrate or commiserate the topic together. But what happens when we disagree?
My wife and I were attending a “serious” art show in a ritzy section of St Louis when an older woman approached a young man who was decked out in woven leather sandals, lime green Capri style pants, a bright yellow shirt – too small and unbuttoned to the navel – and a pair of bright pink Ben Franklin style eye glasses. His hair style was pretty odd too. The woman beamed as she approached and gushed, “Oh! Are you an artist?”