Since many folks didn't like the abrupt start to the story (hey, I like in media res openings), I put together a little something for the beginning. I've also put together a few other scenes, including one rather important one concerning metafictionality... So, here's what I've got up to the scene break just before the first part I haven't written. Do I have everyone's personalities right?
In an infinity of worlds, there is an infinity of seas.
The more mundane seas, those of water, exist on many, many worlds. Some of those worlds are as mundane as their seas, but others hold great adventure and great secrets.
Then there are the exotic seas, the ones of energy, or of time, or of thought. The most exotic sea of all is the one which is so rarely encountered, the sea between the infinity of worlds.
Many seas carry castaways, unfortunates who float to their next landfall, hoping against hope to see their families or friends again. And, once in a thousand thousand lifetimes, castaways on a sea of water meet a castaway on a sea between the infinity of worlds ...
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Location Unknown. Date Unknown. Time Unknown.
Once again, I opened my eyes and didn't see the face of the woman I wanted to see more than anyone else. Was I ever going to get home?
"He's waking up!" That was a child's voice, and she was speaking French.
I sat up and looked around. I was on a tropical beach, my cycle a few yards inland. I could have arrived in a worse place; hell, I had arrived in worse places in other worlds. A young girl and two teenagers (a girl and a boy) were looking at me with concern. "At the risk of sounding cliched, where am I?"
"I wish we knew," answered the older girl. "We just washed up on this shore a couple of hours ago."
"And then you showed up out of a ... hole in the air," added the boy. "What scientific principle allows for movement of that sort?"
I smiled at the boy. "That's a long story, lad, and we have other things to do if you just washed ashore. I assume you survived a shipwreck; where's your lifeboat?"
"It isn't a boat," said the younger girl. "It's the captain's cabin! I want to see him again."
"So do I," whispered the older girl.
The boy pointed out to sea. "It's caught on that reef, sir." Sure enough, there was a metal pod caught on a rock at the edge of the atoll. "I was going to build a boat and try to salvage what I could from it, but we decided to wait until you were awake before leaving you alone. Did I do the wrong thing?"
"You should have left one person here while the other two started salvaging what you needed ... but I'm glad you stayed to watch over me." I pushed myself off of the ground, leaping to my feet with a flourish that impressed the boy and the younger girl. "I suppose we should introduce ourselves. My name is Douglas Sangnoir, but my friends call me Doug."
"I am Jean Ratlique," replied the boy, "and these are my friends, Marie Lowenbrau and Nadia."
DRUNKARD'S STAGGER: BLUE SKIES, BLUE WATER
By Rob Kelk
with Robert M. Schroeck
Based on the "Drunkard's Walk" fanfic cycle
(created by Robert M. Schroeck)
and "Fushigi No Umi no Nadia"
(directed by Hideaki Anno)
CHAPTER ONE: LIFE'S A BEACH ...
M. Sangnoir stood up and walked over to his odd vehicle. I quickly followed him. "Excuse me, sir ...?"
"Jean, call me Doug, please."
I nodded. "What manner of vehicle is that? It looks like it could be a motorized bicycle, but I've never seen a bicycle shaped like that before."
"You got it in one, Jean; this is a motorcycle. It can do a few other things, too." He opened one of the cases and withdrew a helmet, then tossed it to me. "Put that on, get on, and we'll go take a look at the captain's cabin."
"But, sir ... Doug," I quickly corrected myself, "there is no road-way from here to there for your motor-cycle."
He smiled, then spoke in English. "" He seated himself on the motor-cycle, started its engine, then toggled a switch, which caused the vehicle to lift slightly into the air.
"Incredible! How does the motor-cycle fly, sir?"
Doug smiled. "Happy thoughts and pixie dust, Jean."
"That is not a scientific answer, sir. You may as well have said that it's because the motor-cycle is coated with cavorite."
He stopped smiling. "I'm sorry, Jean. You really want to know, don't you?" He went on after I nodded. "There's a device in here that creates a standing graviton wave, which supports the motorcycle against the Earth's field. Before you ask, the emitter tilts the standing wave to provide the pseudo-thrust that moves the bike when it's flying."
"I think I preferred the pixie dust explanation, M. ... Doug. At least I could understand that."
He smiled, in that "I'm an adult and you're not so it's okay" way that I hate so much. "I guess I shouldn't have expected someone your age to be familiar with this. It's far in advance of Einstein's gravitational theories ... What is it, Jean?"
"Who is this M. Einstein?"
"Who is Einstein? Okay, I suppose I deserved that for my joke ..." Doug stopped speaking as he looked at my face. "Jean, have you really never heard of Albert Einstein?"
"No, sir."
He looked puzzled. "But ... that pod ... and the way Nadia's dressed ... Jean, exactly what is today's date, including the year?"
* * *
Location still unknown. Sunday, April 27, 1890. 4:30 PM Local Time.
Once I had used the bike to tow the entire pod off the rocks and inland far enough that it wouldn't be washed away, Jean and I tied it down as best we could. "That'll have to do, Jean."
"Yes, sir. Doug."
"Where did the girls get off to, while we were doing the heavy work?" I smiled to let him know I wasn't too worried about having to do the heavy work. I doubted any of the others were as strong as I was, so I should be doing the heavy work.
"I think they wanted to explore the beach."
"Can they take care of themselves if there's trouble?"
"I think that Nadia can take care of both of them."
I noticed the hesitation in Jean's voice. "All right, then. Let's get this opened up so the water can drain out, then start walking after them."
Jean looked puzzled. "Aren't we going to use the motor-cycle, Doug?"
I shook my head. "Nope, and for two reasons. First, I don't know if I can refuel it around here, so I'm hoping to use it only when necessary. Second, we can't all fit on the seat."
"Ah, I see. That makes sense. Will you help me up, please?" One quick hug and lift, and Jean was on top of the pod. "Thank you!" He slid into an open hatch on the pod's top. A hatch at one end of the pod opened a moment later, revealing Jean and quite a bit of water.
I pulled a towel from one of the bike's panniers, and handed it to Jean. "Shall we go find the others?"
* * *
I didn't know what to think of that "Sangnoir" person. He seemed to know what he's doing, and it didn't look like he was from Neo-Atlantis, but I think he liked machines almost as much as Jean did.
I didn't trust him.
It's never safe to trust anyone.
Except for King, of course. And Marie. And maybe Jean.
No, trusting Jean got me into this whole mess.
But trusting Jean led me to my father.
And then my father pushed me away, just when I learned who he really was.
I didn't know what to think ...
Except that I should find out where Marie ran off to. "Marie! Marie, where are you?"
"I'm over here, Nadia! Come see what I found!"
It didn't sound like she was very far away, so I walked over the rise between us ... and stopped. "Marie!" I stage-whispered. "Get back here. Now."
"But, Nadia ..."
"Now!"
Marie walked over to me, looking afraid. "What's wrong, Nadia?"
I took her by the hand and started walking back to the others. "You know what that is, Marie. It isn't safe here." Then I saw Jean and M. Sangnoir walking towards us. "Come on, Marie!" I started running for them, pulling Marie along with me.
M. Sangnoir started running to us. I think he was running even faster than I was. "What's wrong, girls?"
"We have to get away from here. Now."
"But, Nadia ..." Marie stopped talking when I glared at her.
"Is something wrong? M. Sangnoir had reached us, and Jean was still many meters away. I knew Jean needed to stop reading so much and get more exercise, but I didn't realize he was that slow.
"We found ..." Marie started, before I put my hand over her mouth to get her to be quiet.
I whispered to M. Sangnoir, "There's a Garfish on the beach over the rise. That means there are Neo-Atlantis soldiers here!" I took my hand away from Marie's mouth.
"Neo-Atlantis?" asked M. Sangnoir. At least he was whispering, even though he sounded surprised.
"They're the ones who sunk the Nautilus," added Marie. She was finally whispering.
M. Sangnoir had an odd look on his face for a moment, then he looked grim. "I see. You three go back to where we left your escape pod. I'll take a closer look at this 'Garfish'."
"But ..."
"Come on, Marie!" I started walking back to the beach where we had met M. Sangnoir, when he held up his hand.
"Just a moment, please," he said. "Marie, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said. "There's nobody there."
"Thank you, Marie. I'd still like to go and take a look at the Garfish."
* * *
They called their ship the Nautilus. I guess somebody, maybe their captain, was a Jules Verne fan. I just hoped they were better people than these "Neo-Atlantis" people were.
I crested the hill, and stopped. Sure enough, as I suspected as soon as Marie said nobody was there, she and Nadia had found a shipwreck, not a ship. Had Nadia even gone to look at the wreck, or was she just nervous? If she was nervous, then those "Neo-Atlantis" people must have a very nasty reputation ... and if that was the case, was the reputation deserved, or enemy propoganda?
A few jumps down the hill took me to the wreckage. It wasn't pretty; someone had sunk the ship on purpose, and with extreme prejudice. Either Neo-Atlantis was so violent that their opponent had to sink their ships on sight, or there was a war going on.
It didn't take me long to realize what I was examining. The shape of the support struts, the remnants of the engine, the torpedo tube - everything pointed to this being the wreckage of a submarine, not a surface ship. That meant that the Nautilus might also have been a submarine, which means the Verne fan who gave it that name wasn't being silly. While I took a good look at the wreckage and mentally marked items that could be salvaged, I thought some more about the Nautilus, and the date that Jean had given me. I dismissed the wild idea that I had fallen into a book almost immediately - Jean, Nadia, and Marie weren't characters in the nineteenth-century novel that I had read in high school, and they said that they came from the Nautilus. It wasn't until I had almost finished that I remembered Jean had mentioned "cavorite". If this world's H.G. Wells was like mine, then he wouldn't have come up with that plot device for another decade. That's when everything fell together for me: this world, whatever else it might be, was in one important respect the opposite of Leese's world. That was a world that was technologically on par with home, despite being a few decades later by the calendar, which meant it was less advanced than home for the same date. This world was more advanced than home for the same date, and some of the books were written earlier. That fit the facts that I had, and didn't contradict anything I knew - it would do unless I saw something that couldn't be explained by the theory.
I jumped up the hill and headed back to the children's escape pod.
More to come, of course...
-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
In an infinity of worlds, there is an infinity of seas.
The more mundane seas, those of water, exist on many, many worlds. Some of those worlds are as mundane as their seas, but others hold great adventure and great secrets.
Then there are the exotic seas, the ones of energy, or of time, or of thought. The most exotic sea of all is the one which is so rarely encountered, the sea between the infinity of worlds.
Many seas carry castaways, unfortunates who float to their next landfall, hoping against hope to see their families or friends again. And, once in a thousand thousand lifetimes, castaways on a sea of water meet a castaway on a sea between the infinity of worlds ...
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Location Unknown. Date Unknown. Time Unknown.
Once again, I opened my eyes and didn't see the face of the woman I wanted to see more than anyone else. Was I ever going to get home?
"He's waking up!" That was a child's voice, and she was speaking French.
I sat up and looked around. I was on a tropical beach, my cycle a few yards inland. I could have arrived in a worse place; hell, I had arrived in worse places in other worlds. A young girl and two teenagers (a girl and a boy) were looking at me with concern. "At the risk of sounding cliched, where am I?"
"I wish we knew," answered the older girl. "We just washed up on this shore a couple of hours ago."
"And then you showed up out of a ... hole in the air," added the boy. "What scientific principle allows for movement of that sort?"
I smiled at the boy. "That's a long story, lad, and we have other things to do if you just washed ashore. I assume you survived a shipwreck; where's your lifeboat?"
"It isn't a boat," said the younger girl. "It's the captain's cabin! I want to see him again."
"So do I," whispered the older girl.
The boy pointed out to sea. "It's caught on that reef, sir." Sure enough, there was a metal pod caught on a rock at the edge of the atoll. "I was going to build a boat and try to salvage what I could from it, but we decided to wait until you were awake before leaving you alone. Did I do the wrong thing?"
"You should have left one person here while the other two started salvaging what you needed ... but I'm glad you stayed to watch over me." I pushed myself off of the ground, leaping to my feet with a flourish that impressed the boy and the younger girl. "I suppose we should introduce ourselves. My name is Douglas Sangnoir, but my friends call me Doug."
"I am Jean Ratlique," replied the boy, "and these are my friends, Marie Lowenbrau and Nadia."
DRUNKARD'S STAGGER: BLUE SKIES, BLUE WATER
By Rob Kelk
with Robert M. Schroeck
Based on the "Drunkard's Walk" fanfic cycle
(created by Robert M. Schroeck)
and "Fushigi No Umi no Nadia"
(directed by Hideaki Anno)
CHAPTER ONE: LIFE'S A BEACH ...
M. Sangnoir stood up and walked over to his odd vehicle. I quickly followed him. "Excuse me, sir ...?"
"Jean, call me Doug, please."
I nodded. "What manner of vehicle is that? It looks like it could be a motorized bicycle, but I've never seen a bicycle shaped like that before."
"You got it in one, Jean; this is a motorcycle. It can do a few other things, too." He opened one of the cases and withdrew a helmet, then tossed it to me. "Put that on, get on, and we'll go take a look at the captain's cabin."
"But, sir ... Doug," I quickly corrected myself, "there is no road-way from here to there for your motor-cycle."
He smiled, then spoke in English. "" He seated himself on the motor-cycle, started its engine, then toggled a switch, which caused the vehicle to lift slightly into the air.
"Incredible! How does the motor-cycle fly, sir?"
Doug smiled. "Happy thoughts and pixie dust, Jean."
"That is not a scientific answer, sir. You may as well have said that it's because the motor-cycle is coated with cavorite."
He stopped smiling. "I'm sorry, Jean. You really want to know, don't you?" He went on after I nodded. "There's a device in here that creates a standing graviton wave, which supports the motorcycle against the Earth's field. Before you ask, the emitter tilts the standing wave to provide the pseudo-thrust that moves the bike when it's flying."
"I think I preferred the pixie dust explanation, M. ... Doug. At least I could understand that."
He smiled, in that "I'm an adult and you're not so it's okay" way that I hate so much. "I guess I shouldn't have expected someone your age to be familiar with this. It's far in advance of Einstein's gravitational theories ... What is it, Jean?"
"Who is this M. Einstein?"
"Who is Einstein? Okay, I suppose I deserved that for my joke ..." Doug stopped speaking as he looked at my face. "Jean, have you really never heard of Albert Einstein?"
"No, sir."
He looked puzzled. "But ... that pod ... and the way Nadia's dressed ... Jean, exactly what is today's date, including the year?"
* * *
Location still unknown. Sunday, April 27, 1890. 4:30 PM Local Time.
Once I had used the bike to tow the entire pod off the rocks and inland far enough that it wouldn't be washed away, Jean and I tied it down as best we could. "That'll have to do, Jean."
"Yes, sir. Doug."
"Where did the girls get off to, while we were doing the heavy work?" I smiled to let him know I wasn't too worried about having to do the heavy work. I doubted any of the others were as strong as I was, so I should be doing the heavy work.
"I think they wanted to explore the beach."
"Can they take care of themselves if there's trouble?"
"I think that Nadia can take care of both of them."
I noticed the hesitation in Jean's voice. "All right, then. Let's get this opened up so the water can drain out, then start walking after them."
Jean looked puzzled. "Aren't we going to use the motor-cycle, Doug?"
I shook my head. "Nope, and for two reasons. First, I don't know if I can refuel it around here, so I'm hoping to use it only when necessary. Second, we can't all fit on the seat."
"Ah, I see. That makes sense. Will you help me up, please?" One quick hug and lift, and Jean was on top of the pod. "Thank you!" He slid into an open hatch on the pod's top. A hatch at one end of the pod opened a moment later, revealing Jean and quite a bit of water.
I pulled a towel from one of the bike's panniers, and handed it to Jean. "Shall we go find the others?"
* * *
I didn't know what to think of that "Sangnoir" person. He seemed to know what he's doing, and it didn't look like he was from Neo-Atlantis, but I think he liked machines almost as much as Jean did.
I didn't trust him.
It's never safe to trust anyone.
Except for King, of course. And Marie. And maybe Jean.
No, trusting Jean got me into this whole mess.
But trusting Jean led me to my father.
And then my father pushed me away, just when I learned who he really was.
I didn't know what to think ...
Except that I should find out where Marie ran off to. "Marie! Marie, where are you?"
"I'm over here, Nadia! Come see what I found!"
It didn't sound like she was very far away, so I walked over the rise between us ... and stopped. "Marie!" I stage-whispered. "Get back here. Now."
"But, Nadia ..."
"Now!"
Marie walked over to me, looking afraid. "What's wrong, Nadia?"
I took her by the hand and started walking back to the others. "You know what that is, Marie. It isn't safe here." Then I saw Jean and M. Sangnoir walking towards us. "Come on, Marie!" I started running for them, pulling Marie along with me.
M. Sangnoir started running to us. I think he was running even faster than I was. "What's wrong, girls?"
"We have to get away from here. Now."
"But, Nadia ..." Marie stopped talking when I glared at her.
"Is something wrong? M. Sangnoir had reached us, and Jean was still many meters away. I knew Jean needed to stop reading so much and get more exercise, but I didn't realize he was that slow.
"We found ..." Marie started, before I put my hand over her mouth to get her to be quiet.
I whispered to M. Sangnoir, "There's a Garfish on the beach over the rise. That means there are Neo-Atlantis soldiers here!" I took my hand away from Marie's mouth.
"Neo-Atlantis?" asked M. Sangnoir. At least he was whispering, even though he sounded surprised.
"They're the ones who sunk the Nautilus," added Marie. She was finally whispering.
M. Sangnoir had an odd look on his face for a moment, then he looked grim. "I see. You three go back to where we left your escape pod. I'll take a closer look at this 'Garfish'."
"But ..."
"Come on, Marie!" I started walking back to the beach where we had met M. Sangnoir, when he held up his hand.
"Just a moment, please," he said. "Marie, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said. "There's nobody there."
"Thank you, Marie. I'd still like to go and take a look at the Garfish."
* * *
They called their ship the Nautilus. I guess somebody, maybe their captain, was a Jules Verne fan. I just hoped they were better people than these "Neo-Atlantis" people were.
I crested the hill, and stopped. Sure enough, as I suspected as soon as Marie said nobody was there, she and Nadia had found a shipwreck, not a ship. Had Nadia even gone to look at the wreck, or was she just nervous? If she was nervous, then those "Neo-Atlantis" people must have a very nasty reputation ... and if that was the case, was the reputation deserved, or enemy propoganda?
A few jumps down the hill took me to the wreckage. It wasn't pretty; someone had sunk the ship on purpose, and with extreme prejudice. Either Neo-Atlantis was so violent that their opponent had to sink their ships on sight, or there was a war going on.
It didn't take me long to realize what I was examining. The shape of the support struts, the remnants of the engine, the torpedo tube - everything pointed to this being the wreckage of a submarine, not a surface ship. That meant that the Nautilus might also have been a submarine, which means the Verne fan who gave it that name wasn't being silly. While I took a good look at the wreckage and mentally marked items that could be salvaged, I thought some more about the Nautilus, and the date that Jean had given me. I dismissed the wild idea that I had fallen into a book almost immediately - Jean, Nadia, and Marie weren't characters in the nineteenth-century novel that I had read in high school, and they said that they came from the Nautilus. It wasn't until I had almost finished that I remembered Jean had mentioned "cavorite". If this world's H.G. Wells was like mine, then he wouldn't have come up with that plot device for another decade. That's when everything fell together for me: this world, whatever else it might be, was in one important respect the opposite of Leese's world. That was a world that was technologically on par with home, despite being a few decades later by the calendar, which meant it was less advanced than home for the same date. This world was more advanced than home for the same date, and some of the books were written earlier. That fit the facts that I had, and didn't contradict anything I knew - it would do unless I saw something that couldn't be explained by the theory.
I jumped up the hill and headed back to the children's escape pod.
More to come, of course...
-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."
- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012