8.
The Eye
I’ve never seen the inside of Guardian Command. Few have, since access is restricted to Chief Guardian Locke, his top aides and a handful of technicians. The vast, blue-lit interior reminds me of the ocean floor. Biolumes ripple across the ceiling like schools of glowing silverfish, and a mosaic of vid screens covers the far wall. The air in here is cold and smells acrid, like someone just washed the tile floor with bleach.
“There are only two facilities like this in all of Neoden,” Gant announces proudly. “The other, of course, is in the Citadel.”
The Citadel is Enforcer headquarters, located in the heart of Founder’s City. I’ve never been there, but I’ve seen pictures of the towering steel and graphene-glass skyscraper, a fortress overlooking the bright blue expanse of Founder’s Bay. Perched on the shoreline, black and looming like a vulture.
Cillian Gant’s home.
“You’re the first cadet to see this room,” Gant says. “That’s a tremendous honor.”
I thank him, wondering what’s coming next.
I’ve just told him my version of what happened in Washton. Last week, the Chief hadn’t even let me finish. He’d practically ripped off my head when I reached the part about ignoring the recall signal. Cillian Gant, on the other hand, just listened as we strolled, like we were discussing my favorite class at the Academy. No anger or outrage. Instead, he’d seemed amused. The only thing he’d asked was if I knew the girl I’d been tracking.
My answer, a simple ‘no,’ hadn’t drawn any reaction. He’d nodded, then led me to the place where we’re now standing.
“That far wall"– he points to the vid screens —"contains the work of my lifetime. Would you like to see it?”
I follow him to the base of what looks like an observation platform, suspended about ten feet above the floor. Metal catwalks and a stairway trail from the domed structure like tentacles from a jellyfish.
“What you’re looking at is the Eye.” He turns to me. “Do you know anything about the structure of the human eye, Wil?”
I tell him I know the basic anatomy, figuring the contraption before us must be used for some kind of surveillance.
“Good. Now the command module…” – He points to the suspended platform – “think of that as the visual center of the brain. Whoever sits up there can process all the visual input from the retina, which…” – He turns to the vid screen wall – “is represented over here.”
“What’s on the screens?”
“What isn’t?” He gives me a wink. “Come – I’ll show you.”
I follow him up the narrow, suspended stairway. When we reach the top, I discover we’re not alone.
“Sir.” I bow to greet Chief Guardian Locke, who’s seated at a console near two vacant chairs. Another man stands beside him, dressed in the bright orange uniform of a technician.
“Cillian,” Locke says, not bothering to acknowledge me. “Good timing! We’re about to get a sentence from Judiciary. Would you like to do the honors?”
“With pleasure.” Gant rubs his hands together, then motions for me to sit in the middle chair so that I’m sandwiched between him and the Chief. “Judiciary’s been busier than ever,” he says. “Ever since the excitement in Washton.”
His eyes dart to the vid screen hanging in front of us. “Who are we tracking?”
Locke clears his throat. “Two beta-type deevs. Husband and wife from one of the Western Rim Settlements.”
“Pioneers?”
“Right. One of our Guardians tagged them for sedition.”
I dredge up what I learned in Judicial Code class last year. Sedition: incitement to rebellion, punishable by death.
“Planning to organize a strike,” Locke says with disgust. “To protest mine safety conditions.”
“Betas, organizing a protest!” Gant coughs out a laugh. “How many things are wrong with that sentence? See, this is what happens when Settlers are given too much freedom – something our dear Prime Founder doesn’t understand. They’re children! Spoil them and they’ll fall to temptation, every time.”
“It’s worse than that,” Locke says. “The Western Rim is crawling with terrorists and Sinovoss spies.”
“Pioneers.” Gant spits out the word as if it were a curse. “Settling in the outlands, beyond our protection, and multiplying there like wild animals. What did we think would happen? Big policy mistake to let them start breeding outside the Camps, but what do I know? I’m no politician.”
He turns to the tech. “Why is this screen blank? Let’s see them!”
Seconds later, the screen blinks to life and we’re looking at a bird’s eye view of a verdant landscape. The deep green of treetops, tapering into a meadow. A carpet of green, interrupted only by the silvery curve of a small river.
“Magnification!” Gant snaps.
The green patch expands to reveal that the meadow’s not empty. Three specks dart across one corner of the screen. The tech taps on that sector to magnify it.
“That’s them?” Locke asks.
“No sir. Our targets aren’t chipped. We’re tracking their children.” The tech enlarges the image until it’s clear two of the moving shapes are much smaller than the third. “Hmm. Looks like the kids are out foraging with mom.”
“Ah.” Gant smirks. “Even better. The children were birthed in a Camp. Why don’t we pull up their coordinates?”
Two blinking green cursors appear above the kids. When I study the icons, I realize with a shudder that they’re ID tags with the same alpha-numeric format as mine.
“How—” I stammer. “How is this possible?”
“The Eye,” Gant answers, jutting out his chin like a proud parent.
“You mean it’s a satellite?”
Gant laughs. “Calling the Eye a satellite is like calling your brain a simple neuron, young brother. Yes, satellites are a part of the Eye. There are 300, to be exact, in geosynchronous and low orbits covering over 99 percent of the planet’s surface. Not a sparrow falls without us seeing it. But that’s just a small part of what makes the Eye so special. Here. Let me show you.”
He turns to the tech. “Enhance on the girl. I should be able to count the hairs on her head.”
My breath catches as the Eye zooms in, magnifying until it looks like we’re hovering right over a toddler’s head. I can make out the red ribbon in her tangled brown hair as she bends to pick some berries. Gant repeats the same exercise with the boy.
“Dad must be busy in the gas mines,” Locke says with a sneer on his meaty lips.
I turn to Gant. “But the resolution…Where are the cameras? How is this even possible.”
“It’s understandable you’d be confused,” he says. “Most Founders know these things, but since you were born in a Camp, you may not be aware. You see, the last two generations of implants do more than simply identify an individual at close range. We started placing Remote Tracking Chips in every newborn Settler around twenty years ago.”
His grin widens, like a child who’s just discovered a juicy secret. “Which means you must have one.” He reaches over to poke my neck, near the base of my skull. “Buried in here somewhere.”
When I flinch, he and Locke share a laugh.
“No need to be squeamish. Your RTC can’t be much bigger than a grain of rice, safely implanted in your brainstem. That way, it’s almost impossible to remove without causing total paralysis. It must be reassuring to know you’ll never get lost.”
This time, even the tech joins in on the laughter. Orange jumpsuit-wearing bastard.
“Anyway, the beauty of the next gen RTCs is that they’ll soon make contact tagging a thing of the past. In the future, you’ll simply enter the target ID and let the Eye do the rest.” He turns to the tech. “Let’s see if Judiciary has reached a verdict yet.”
On cue, a coded message pops up on the screen:
T-HAN- JUN729CVI OR HAN-JUN729CVII – OC
“Isn’t that adorable.” Gant and Locke exchange grins. “They’re twins. And we get to choose.”
“What —?” I feel the blood draining from my head. “What does that mean?”
“Well…” Gant traces his finger along the screen. “Little JUN729CVI over here was born in Camp Hanover, probably just a few minutes before his twin sister JUN729CVII. This ‘T’ is the sentencing code for termination. And OC – that’s ‘operator choice,’ which means we get to pick. So…” He turns to me. “What do you say? Which one will it be?”
I glance back at the screen, noting with horror that the ID tags hovering over the kids have turned red.
“The girl or the boy?”
“I…” I turn to Chief Guardian Locke, hoping this is just a test or some kind of sick joke, but his face has turned to stone.
“You heard the Prime Enforcer,” he says. “Boy or girl? Your choice.”
“But I can’t. This isn’t right! Why punish the children?”
“Not our call,” Gant replies. “Judiciary passed their sentence. Our job is to enforce. Now make up your mind, Wil. Girl or Boy?”
Bile rises up in my throat as I stare at the screen. At the toddlers playing in the meadow.
“Because if I have to choose, I’ll probably pick both. You know, to be fair. No point in playing favorites.”
Think! There must be some way to stop this. Some way to reason with –
“Boy or girl, Wil! Boy or girl! Make a decision.”
“But they didn’t do anything!”
“Pick one!” the Chief growls into my ear. “That’s an order!”
“I can’t! Please don’t ask me to –”
“Fine,” Gant cuts in, sounding bored. “Both then.”
The tech bobs his head and reaches for the console.
“No! The boy!”
The command spills from my lips before I can stop it, freezing the tech mid-motion. He checks Gant for confirmation and, once he’s gotten a nod, enters the new order.
“Target locked.”
Before I can process the horror of those words, the boy’s cursor starts to blink. Seconds later, a blinding flash washes the screen. When the meadow reappears, there’s a black spot where the boy had been standing. Nothing remains of him but ash and a pile of scorched bones.
There’s no audio, but that doesn’t stop me from hearing the mother’s frantic screams as she runs toward the charred patch. The last image I see before the screen goes blank is that of the little girl, cowering under a bush, terrified eyes looking skyward.
Gant reaches over to pat me on the back. “A wise choice, Wil. When in doubt, always eliminate the male.”
My lips move but no words come out. I want to ask him why, but what’s the point? He’s already given me the answer. It’s in his callous eyes, in the casual way he’s now chatting with the Chief about his travel plans.
They just murdered an innocent child to send a message.
I just murdered him.
Gant turns toward me, the sinous muscles in his neck reminding me of an uncoiling shadeviper. “Hope you enjoyed that small glimpse into the future. Let the word spread to our enemies that death now comes from above.”
“But why?” I force myself to look him in the eye. “Why is this necessary?”
“Ah, young brother, that’s the wrong question. What you should be asking is: ‘What took us so long?’”
I blink but won’t look away. Won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he terrifies me.
“I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your training, but before you go, there’s one more vid I’d like to share.”
He gives the tech a nod and the screen flashes back to life, broadcasting another jaw-dropping scene. This time, it’s a first-person view of Vin, dressed in Settler’s black. He’s standing in front of a market stall, snowflakes swirling around his head like moths as he speaks:
“Nothing here. Let’s try the station again. At least we –”
“Ssssh!” I hear my voice interrupting, off camera.
“What? You got something?”
“Not sure yet.”
“How?” I ask, but I already know the answer. The Settler’s cloaks. They must have been wired for vid and sound.
“We always monitor cadets during sims.” The Chief glares at me. “For your safety.”
“Standard practice,” Gant adds. “As you can imagine, we’ve taken our time going over the Washton surveillance vids. Your feed was especially informative, young brother.”
The screen jumps to the next scene. This one starts with Vin warning me we need to get to the extraction point. The image pans to the right, scanning through a crowd of Settlers before fixing on one hooded figure. I hold my breath as she removes her hood, eyes staring right into the hidden camera.
“And… freeze!” Gant orders. “Now magnify.”
On command, Liv’s face fills the screen.
“This, as I’m sure you realize, is your surveillance vid. I’ve watched it several times, Wil. Enough times to wonder…” He taps a fingernail against Liv’s face. “Who is this girl? Do you recognize her?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “She’s the Gamma I was tracking.”
“Ah, but that’s not what I’m asking.” He smiles but his eyes narrow. “Do you know her?”
“No.”
“Then you never saw her before Washton? Before this encounter we’re witnessing right now?”
“No, sir,” I repeat firmly. “How would I?”
“How would you indeed?” Gant studies my face like he’s trying to dissect me, cell by cell. Then he orders the tech to play back the past five seconds in slow motion, enhancing on the girl. Frame by frame, the hood falls away to reveal those haunting green eyes – eyes that stare right into my soul.
“See how her pupils dilate when she sees you, right… there. Our biometrics experts tell us that look can mean only one thing, Wil. Recognition. So I’ll ask you again. Who is she?”
“I –” Deep, slow breath. Remember Astrid’s warning. Keep it simple. “I don’t know, sir. I’ve never seen her before.”
The Chief grunts and pushes back from his seat. “Waste of time! This one’s a dead end. If he won’t cooperate, then maybe his partner will. Let’s bring him back and strip the truth out of him.”
“No!” I shout. “Vin was only following me! I’m the one who disobeyed orders. It’s not his fault that –”
“Doesn’t matter.” Gant raises a hand to silence me. “We’ll learn the girl’s identity soon enough, with or without your help. Now that we have her image, it’s just a question of time.”
He places an arm on my shoulder, guiding me down the stairs, where I find the two stone-faced Enforcers waiting.
“Now I want you to think about what you’ve learned today. I’ll be heading back to the Citadel tomorrow morning, but before I go, we’ll meet here again.” He turns to the guards. “Priority Detention level. Bring him back at six precisely.”
They close in on me like the pincers of a moon scorpion.
“Good. You have ten hours to meditate. Use that time wisely, my boy. Search your memory for any useful information, and if that doesn’t work, then search your dreams. Because when we meet again, I’ll expect you to be more… open with me.”
He pauses to study me with those emotionless gray eyes before saying, as if in afterthought: “Arachnophobia, huh? How boring.”
“Sir?” I ask, praying I heard him wrong.
“Arachnophobia. Your psych profile lists you as having a deathly fear of spiders. I would have thought you’d be more original than that. Oh, well. We’ll work with what we have. Pleasant dreams, Wil.”
And with that, he motions for the Enforcers to take me away.
***
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Hi Gray,
This doesn't read as an info dump at all to me. I think you did a fine job of working it all in through dialogue. To answer your other question...yes, Gant comes off as menacing and evil enough to scare the heck out of me. When he had Wil choose which child to kill...well, that was just terrible.
I don't know what he has planned for Wil, but I don't think it's going to be good. I'm anxious to see if Wil gives Liv up. I think Gant already knows who she is and this is a test for Wil. Gant has that "eye" after all.
Since Wil has lied and Gant knows it...and it's punishable by death and Gant hasn't sentenced him to that fate, then I'm thinking Wil must be important to them in some way, if only to discover how he turned out the way he has and his parents were common.
I only found one little nit.
~Ann
“Because if I have to {chose} (choose), I’ll probably pick both. You know, to be fair. No point in playing favorites.”
Wow Gray!
What a spectacular chapter.
Your characterization of Grant is great. The back story of the founders and such is seamlessly weaved in. You can feel the tension rising with each question he asks. Poor will is put in a terrible position and you leave off with a great hook. Man…I don’t want to live in that world….oh wait.
Bimmy
Hey, Gray! I have some extra time tonight and wanted to stop by for some more Wil. :-)
--Great description of Cillian through Wil's eyes. My one suggestion would be to remove the description of his eyes as being "gunmetal gray" and go with dirty ice, which is fresh and vivid. "But his eyes... the color of dirty ice. Or shark skin." See what you think.
--"vice-like"... vise-like. ;-)
--“Thank the Founders,” I say reflexively... really like this adverb here.
--pale lids fluttering like moth wings... great! Love Wil's thoughts here as well.
--the lie just springs from my lips... springs "to," maybe?
--I wouldn't mind some more physiological reactions of Wil's. Sweaty palms, racing heartbeat, as Cillian stares him down. Then gradually show him relaxing--it's clear that Gant is trying to make Wil comfortable, almost by speaking to him as a peer and praising his abilities. But then again, I obsesses over "character reactions," lol, and I do like how you have Wil reporting to us how he feels about Cillian at any given moment. His asides are funny and age appropriate. But this is an example of what I mean "I look down at my hands, which have balled into fists." Very good. It shows us exactly how Wil is feeling. Also: "I ask, feeling my throat tighten." It's so sad that his parents are dead. :-( Would he wonder if he has siblings? I don't think this is necessarily something that requires clarification. It's just something that occurred to me as I read. I like that your story makes me ask questions.
--Wasn’t our world, Neoden, named after this mystical place?... ah, I get it!!! lol!
--I've never seen the inside... great info graph. Succinct and visual. I also like how you tie in the sense of smell.
--Be careful of how many times Wil nods. I get that that's his default response to a question asked by an authority figure, but more than a couple paragraphs start with "I nod" or some variation of that. No big deal; it's just something to be aware of as you proceed.
--“Sir,” I blurt [out]... just me being picky. I'm really annoying about things like "stand up," "sit down," "blurt out," etc. ;-)
--“Betas, organizing a protest!”... this is so revealing!
--Hey… it must be reassuring to know you’ll never get lost... LOL! Yes, this is utterly reassuring.
--It could be me because I've forgotten, but why is it imperative that Wil not let on to knowing Liv? Sorry, I have a really poor memory. I'm sure this has been covered. But maybe it wouldn't hurt to remind the reader here?
This is a fantastic chapter--forcing Wil to make a choice as to which child dies--wow! You certainly aren't afraid of drama, and I really appreciate that. Also I don't think this was an info dump at all. I continue to be impressed with how easily and succinctly you convey important information to the reader. Not once did I feel that the author was meddling with the characters or stuffing words in their mouths. It all came across very naturally. This is such a treat to read! :0)
JLiz
Outstanding read. Does not read like a data dump at all. Some great lines in this one. Loved 'pale lids fluttering like moth wings'- very very descriptive and visual. You covered a lot of ground with a nice flow. It moved the story along and picked up the pace. One of your better chapters and firmly entrenching the reader.
Hey, graymartin - Excellent chapter! Not an info dump when presented as a condescending lecture by Gant. We have shades of "Sophie's Choice" and "1984." Wil being an anomaly is certain to play a role as the story progresses. Gant and the Eye are not all-powerful, it seems, as Gant knows Wil is lying, but not why. And why does Wil lie? So he doesn't admit to going off on his own during the fox hunt? There hasn't been a foundation established yet for Wil needing to protect Liv's identity, other than to stick with his bogus story. Do his intuitive powers tell him Liv is a fugitive of some sort? Good hook at the end as Gant implies Wil's morbid fear of spiders will be used to get the truth out of him.
A well-written chapter, per usual. No plot holes that I could see. The fate of Wil and the mystery of Liv drive the reader on. The only nit I noticed: ...maybe five(-)foot(-)seven...
Good stuff!
Take care,
Jack
Hi, GM. wil's confrontation wit hthe interrogator was a good one. Although there was a fair amount of information in this chapter, it still read well. The surveillance methods of the tyrants were about as advanced as I'd expected. They certainly don't trust anyone. However, their world is beginning to feed on itself, as all dictatorships do. It will be interesting to see it collapse. It's something to look forward to.
Nits, Comments & Concerns:
>>Pale, cleanly shaven face with bland features. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on a narrow, hooked nose.
In his novella, Apt Pupil, Stephen King said that the picture of evil would be a small, clerkly-looking man.
>>My designated chair is made of rigid wood, set so low that I have to look up at him as he speaks.
It is an old trick for a 'guest' to sit lower than his host. This allows the latter to more easily dominate the former. This trick was exploded in hilarity by Charlie Chaplin in his movie, The Great Dictator.
>>“Given the size of the blast, it’s a miracle any of you survived.
I'm already beginning to suspect that the flier explosion was no accident; something on the order of the Reichstag Fire. The deaths of children would be the perfect excuse for a crackdown.
>>“Did you know,” he continues, “that ninety-nine percent of all Guardians, myself included, are descendants of the Great One?
If so, that means most of the people are blood-relatives, which is a dangerous thing to do when it comes to breeding. Hopefully the folks at Neoden have extensive genetic records. So much inbreeding will quickly contaminate the gene pool, resulting in albinoism, pinkeye, and other genetic diseases.
>>“Yes. I’m sorry to inform you, Wil, but since you never knew her…” He shrugs to finish the thought.
Wil's interrogator is using a lot of the classic touches. Referring to one's parents as unimportant causes the victim to think of himself as unimportant by consequence. This runs down the individual and makes them easier to manipulate.
>>I’m not sure which part of this news stuns me more: than the parents I never knew are both dead, or that they stayed together without…
Replace "than" with "that".
>>“Of course! He only exists because some low-level administrative idiot couldn’t keep his pants on.
Another classic trick in interrogation is to refer to the victim's friends and family in a contemptuous fashion. This serves two purposes: first, it denigrates the allies of the victim so that he/she is less likely to think of them as allies, an helps to instill a sense of isolation. Second, the victim may later unconsciously use the same denigrating term when speaking to that person, making the relative react in anger; two birds with one stone. Additionally, the isolation takes place even after the interrogation is concluded.
>>“Tell me, Wil: what do you know about the Ancient Religion?”
Deviating from the subject at hand keeps the victim guessing and puts them off-balance; their thoughts become jumbled, and they cannot formulate a strategy of resistance.
>>The Citadel is Enforcer headquarters, located in the heart of Founder’s City.
That building is probably just a feint; a Potemkin village to distract enemies and casual onlookers. The real work and equipment would be elsewhere, in a non-descript place. Tyrannies are notorious for false fronts.
>>Not a sparrow falls without us seeing it.
Very clever paraphrasing of religious liturgy. Matthew 10:29.
>>. I want to ask him why, but what’s the point? He’s already given me the >>answer. It’s in his eyes, in the casual way he’s now chatting with the >>Chief about his travel plans.
>>They just murdered an innocent child to send a message.
>>I just murdered him.
Again, classic interrogation technique. By making the victim part and parcel to a crime they wear down his sense of ethics; he begins to see himself as an irrevocable part of the problem. Or, worse, he may begin to lose all sense of the sanctity of life. This makes him more like them, which is what they want.
The way to avoid that trap is to remember that your own goodness and that the decision to take life was theirs in the beginning. It is all on them, and your own hand was forced. The path to redemption is never easy, but it is achievable.
>>“Arachnophobia. Your psych profile lists you as having a deathly fear of spiders.
As in 1984, the victim is threatened with their worst fear.
Watergate spook G. Gordon Liddy cured himself of his fear of rats by hunting, killing and even eating one. He reasoned--correctly--that the symbolic act of forcing himself to confront and then consume the thing he feared would eliminate that fear. Wil should do the same thing.
Bon appetit!
Lawrence
Yes, your Enforcer comes across quite sinister & creepy, and no, it didn't feel like too much of an info dump. I was wanting to know more about this world.
Nits/Qs: Had you clearly established what the explosion was last chapter? I guess it didn't register to me that their fellow guardians died (but reading lots of chapters from different people each week can get dizzying).
Anyway - really enjoying this one. Anxious to see where this is all headed.
Nope, Graymartin, no info dump here, you peppered it in between, and just before, pure horror. Crap, man, could this get any more tense and scary? I sure hope you're entering this in the next Strongest Start contest here on the site. It'll be an awesome contender. I'd like to see this on the shelves by Christmas, so get moving. I have a grandson that will love it.
Okay, enough of this and that.
Suggestions/comments: ***you can't screw with perfection, but I do have one itty-bitty question:
***Is this proper sentence structure?
And to think, Wil[:] if you hadn’t gotten lost when you did, you’d probably be crippled or dead right now. ***I'd think comma, maybe semicolon, but hey, my grammar sucks.
Several things really hit hard:
Neoden's visual eye. I hope it did not spy them talking to Liv, and if not, why?
The biological parents of Wil. I bet he has a daddy or mommy that is big time. We'll see. Or he's the next "Miraculous Birth". We'll see, again.
The biggest horror was the way Gant made Wil kill that boy. You did two things with this, showed me the nature of the world you are building and what being a Guardian is all about--like an F'n brick wall--and hopefully a turning point for Wil. That and the fact that this bastard would punish Wil by missing with Vin, really vested me in a story I'd already thought I'd been vested in. LOL This is one of those rare times when I'd buy the book if I didn't finish it here because I have to see what happens.
On to the next chapter and loving it.
Susan
From his expression, I get the feeling he would have removed my brain for scientific study on the spot
>Oh yes, your MC is well-equipped to summarize this guy for us. No absolute need to jump POV unless you want to for style
She’s dead
Yes. I’m sorry to inform you, Wil, but since you never knew her…” He shrugs
>Goodness... this guy has the soft touch of Dexter fused with a mortician
How do you respond to that? Silence seems like the best option.
>Agreed.
Now, I notice Gant calling Wil brother. But he also called Locke brother. Shall I go ahead and delete family relation between Locke and Gant in my spreadsheet?
Not a sparrow falls without us seeing it
>Sudden inexplicable urge to close my curtains
-K
Hey Gray,
I was/am absolutely riveted to this story. The use of sci-fi technology is both believable and creative. And the Prime Enforcer is a prime prick, no worries there, you nailed him. The backstory was just enough, and I liked the way the Old Testament story was woven into it, making it pretty tangible.
But the end of the chapter was the best. Forcing Wil to choose who to kill was breathtaking and awful...but such effective writing. Excellently done.
Simi
This was a really, really good chapter. One of the bests you've had. After reading this section with Gant, showing us how truly evil he is, I really don't think you need the earlier chapter from his point of view. I don't think it adds anything, and frankly, I think it weakens the strength of viewing this from Wil's POV.
Your presentation of the information is excellent and not an info-dump; it flows very well.
I do have one other technical suggestion: in a previous life, I was a rocket scientist (seriously, a BS in aerospace engineering). Your use of geosynchronous satellites for a "eye" that both observes so clearly and can send a particle beam with such high precision is a bit of a stretch, even assuming the advanced tech you've laid out. These satellites orbit at 22,000 miles above the surface, and it would take very large optics and a lot of power to perform the tasks you give them.
I think low earth orbiters would be better. With a constellation of 300 satellites, you could have one in position in less than thirty minutes.
Just a thought.
The first part does not come across as an information dump to me, but rather as interesting. So I think you’re good to go on that count. While the monstrous nature of Cillian Gant comes across clearly as archetypical for the soulless monster, I’ve actually met worse. Don’t listen to anyone who says he’s too much of a monster.
While we’re discussing him, I think you might consider throwing Prime Enforcer Cillian Gant’s physical description into the prior chapter, since that’s where you’re considering introducing him.
I also agree it needed to be two chapters. When the whole book is posted and you want to rearrange or split a chapter the trick is the ‘edit’ ability and the ‘reposting’ ability. First, you edit the chapter, leaving the half you’re kicking down the road off. For minimum disruption change the chapter number to 6a and put in a not in the box that the other half in now under 6b. Then post 6b. That way you don’t have to edit all the chapter numbers to get it right and if the second part shows up at the end rather than next to 6a readers will know where to find it by number.
Alternatively, you can do what I did, and just kick the chapters forward using edit. That doesn’t cost any points,
{I agree that they certainly were.} same comment as the last chapter. Avoid summarizing dialog mid-scene. It’s an opportunity to show character.
{I’ve just finished spilling my guts to him on the walk over here, which means he already knows I lied to the Chief – an act of treason. At this point, the only thing I haven’t given up is Liv’s identity.} This is too abrupt. Summary is good here, but I’d show a little of the walk with Gant asking him to tell him what happened first before the summary.
{I tell him I know the basic anatomy,} why summary when writing this as a simple statement would work as dialog. This quick bursts of tell are leftover from the rush to get the story on paper, or in this case, in the computer.
{I turn to Gant and ask him again how what we’re seeing is possible.} Tell easily converted to show,
Dear Graymartin:
Good chapter. More than any other previous chapter, this one shows the dystopian nature of this society.
What I'm missing are some physical descriptions. You have depicted quite well the Prime Enforcer's evil nature. Should you add his physical description--maybe in the previous chapter--the reader would have quite a complete picture of him. If I were you, I'd make him tall, pale, eyes so blue it's like looking into ice, and very red lips so, for the reader, he might resemble a vampire (even though any references to vampires should be avoided so the reader isn't confused, I'm only talking about resemblance and the image forming in the reader's mind).
I think Locke's description is missing too, BTW.
The scene where one of twin kids is killed is quite good. What I'm missing there are Nic's emotions. Those emotions are transmitted mainly through dialogue:
“This isn’t right! Why punish the children?”
Think! There must be some way to stop this. Some way to reason with –
“But they didn’t do anything!”
“I can’t! Please don’t ask me to –”
This is first person, so it's very ease for the reader to learn which are Nic's thoughts beyond what he's crying. Why does killing the twins seem wrong to him? He's a cadete training to be an enforcer, why should killing somebody whom has been passed sentence by Judiciary seems wrong to Nic? It's not a murder, but a legal execution, at least from the enforcer's standpoint.
Because of the later, it's very important to tell the reader Nic's thought because those thoughts are what make him different and this novel's hero. Those thoughts place him above the rest of the crooked rulers of this world and the reader needs to know them.
I'm also missing what he's physically feeling. A hole in his stomach? Sweat droplets running down his forehead or down his armpits? Weak legs that are no longer supporting him? Sweaty palms?
Allow me to recommend you Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi's The Emotions Thesaurus. In that book you can look up, for example, "fear", or "anxiety", and you'll find the typical physical reactions when you feel any of those emotions. That book has been a great aid to me when I want to explain what a certain character is feeling. Also, it's a wonderful way to show rather than tell. You don't need to say that somebody is experiencing fear, but rather the reader realises so because of his reactions.
It's like "cold". You can say "John was freezing," or "John was shivering, holding himself with both arms. His lips were blue and his nose very read." In the second case, there is no need to say he was freezing, it's evident for the reader.
I realise that Nic is afraid and reluctant to kill any of the kids. My suggestion is that you show us how afraidshe is by showing the reader his reactions. For example:
"I glance back at the screen and the hair on my nape lifts--the ID tags hovering over the kids have turned red."
No need to tell the reader Nic's horrified. You are showing he is and the scene turns vivid. Now we are feeling his terror.
"“The girl or the boy?”
I turn to Chief Guardian Locke, hoping this is some kind of sick joke, but his expression has hardened. My hands feel clammy. "I..."
“You heard the Prime Enforcer,” he snaps. “Boy or girl? Your choice.”
Suddenly, my legs feel like Jell-O and I need to hold to something or otherwise I'd collapse. My hand finds a chair and I grip its back rest so hard that my knuckles turn white. “But I can’t,” I spit out in a shrill voice. “This isn’t right! Why punish the children?”
Hope you're getting a taste of how a story changes when some emotions are described. Adding some of these reactions here and there automatically enhances the reader's experience, like touching a smooth silky fabric in comparison to rough denim.
In my humble opinion.
Kiss,
Gacela.
Hey Gray, your story is off to the races. I love that the story line mirrors the state of our present world, and the Biblical account of creation with Neoden's version of the Trinity: The Great One, the Wise One, and the Just One. As well, calling it the Ancient Religion. But in Genesis the forbidden fruit is not called an apple. And Gant telling Wil that the Eye can count the hairs on a person's head, and sees each falling bird is another Biblical reference of God's word that resonated with me. I also liked the parallel of the Agenda-21 goal of restricting citizens to cities/Camps, and the chipping of the Settlers, and, as well, the naming of Neoden after the Garden of Eden. And the termination app of the implants plays into a familiar conspiracy of implants planned for the future. This is such an impressive work, Gray. The only thing that seemed a tad inconceivable was that Gant has to wear glasses.
I'm looking forward to finding out what kind of catyclysm triggered the War of Purification.
You're the first cadet to see this room," Gant notes. "That's a tremendous honor./This is a tremendous honor.
later gater
This wasn't an info dump and it worked well with the character's personalities. You've built the world quite well. You've made Gant evil enough, but not so evil that I'd think he'd come to life and curse my first born child. I'm very intrigued so far.
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Thanks again for the read and review, and good luck with your writing and the contest!
Hello, Gray. Remarkable chapter! Mr. Gant...oh, jeez...he slightly reminds me of Hannibal Lector. But in some ways, he's even scarier:-0 He seems to have allll the features of a psychopath and likewise that of a narcissist. Appalling does't fit this guy... I've dealt with some truly bad people in my time, but I don't think I've met anyone nearly as cold as Cillian Gant. Cool name, by the way.
Gray, your plotting is breathtaking! I knew Wil was in for it...but I couldn't have conceived all that he went through in this installment! You do a wonderful job of thinking outside the prov. box:-)
Wil, in this chapter, was in a sword box...although not murdered... the "magician's" "deliberate clumsiness" was not for the feint-hearted!
CHEERS!
Mike
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Thanks, Mike! Gant's supposed to be a really nasty piece of work. Kind of a hybrid of Hitler, Stalin, Saddam Hussein and Hannibal Lector. This chapter is supposed to be a turning point for Wil. I had to find a way to turn these indoctrinated kids against the system they've been training their whole lives to serve, so the wake up call needed to be a shocker. Thanks for your encouraging feedback! Gray
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Ann Everett