[Poll] VOTE: January '12 Flash Challenge

[kailhofer]

To vote, rate these stories on the form in the post following this one and send it to me via PM:


The challenge was to write a tale of two or more real-life, current-day sea creatures in a fictional world where the two can talk to each other.



The following entries were received:



Oh, Well, It’ll Grow Back



In an alien world with creatures that can move and dance in darkness or light, with enemies always searching and lurking, lives Bud, a killer whale and squiggly, a giant squid. Together they form a unique pair in which predator and prey alike cease all hostility and look wide-eyed and shake their heads in a disgusting grimace when Bud and Squiggly swim by.

“It ain’t natural!” Words that echo though-out the cold abyss like sonar pinging and being repeated by each creature until the ocean’s grapevines had sent that message clearly for all to hear!

“No, it ain’t,” another voice from the deep utters.

But to Bud and Squiggly other creatures and their opinions didn’t matter! And who really could do anything about it? The only threat came from a sperm-whale and Bud could detect one long before it found Squigs. But Squigs would always utter: “Let me at him. Why, just let me at him.” However, Squigs would always follow Bud to safer waters. One day, Squigs did attack something!

“You idiot!!” Bud said. “Why the hell did you screw with that-- that thing! You imbecile--I told you to leave it alone! But, no---we must attack this invader from the surface and what the hell happens? You loose an arm, get cut all over you head, and almost get your eye poked out!”

Hey, it doesn’t sound natural and it has thingy that spin on its rear-end!! Squigs said. “Besides, you know my tentacle will grew back.”

Blood still oozed from Squig’s head and severed tentacle stub; sharks gathered by, but none made an advance towards Squigs. Bud attacked one and the other sharks still looking very menacing slowly swam away.

“That thing should stayed up where it belongs. That’s the first one I’ve seen down here. And you know---if one comes, then more will follow,” Squigs said.

“You latched onto the back of that thing, stopped whatever it was from spinning around and then--the damned thing pulls you like you were a minnow!! But no, you still wanted to mess with it! It just might have been some giant-prehistoric snake! Ever think about that!!


“It was no giant snake! I’m sure about that!” Squigs said.

“Oh, It was no giant snake. ---Oh,--- I’m so sure ‘bout that! If it hadn’t been for me pulling you off, you’d be on something’s supper list tonight. Ever think about that!” Bud said.

“Well, it knows now that I will not be intimated!” Squigs said.

“You’re impossible,” Bud said.

Squigs was about to answer, but another giant squid known as Porkchop--to this day nobody knows how he got that name--approached and said, “Don’t ever screw with that thing! You hear me Squigs!”

“I-I-just thought that...,” Squid started to say when Porkchop blasted out with: “We follow that thing around and it follows other things up there and down here. We’ve even watched it chase another one of its kind for months on end! So don’t mess with it! Take my advice for once!! It can be one mean S.O.B and I mean one mean S.O.B!!

“In fact, we watched it ram into a sperm whale and that damned thing didn’t ever flinch! It kept going on and on with that tail or whatever it is spinning on its rear!”

“That was my first cousin, Oily, they called him. I heard about it the other day. Too bad, old Oily was a good salt!” Bud said.

“I hope they get all your cousins!” Porkchop said. He eyed up Bud and Bud eyed him up. Tension mounted until Squigs broke the silence with, “Bud, you know they eat us if they get the chance. Look, Porkchop here isn’t such a bad guy. No, he’s not. And Porkchop-- Bud here has saved my life---at least one time. And many more by telling me when his cousins are around. See! We’re friends! True friends. Just because we’re not the same specie bears not difference between our friendship. We have fun together! Now--- I’m a little brighter....”

“You-- bright!” Bud screamed. “Why you can’t even count without using all you tentacles! And that time you cozied-up to that octopus thinking it was agon’ to be you true love!! Well, need I say more!”

“Hey, the water wasn’t clear that day,” Squigs said.

“Porkchop’s color turned softer as he listened to Squigs and Bud argue about almost everything now. But he kept up his now mantra-like advice to Squigs; “Leave it alone! Leave it alone....” On and on he incanted that phrase until Bud and Squigs stopped their arguing and listened.

“Since I finally got both your attentions which wasn’t easy let me tell you something about that thing you attacked! Whatever it is you-will-not-beat-it!! When I was young I watched ones that had stars and stripes on them chase the ones that had a Red Hammer and Sickle on them! Just let it be in peace! ------Understand!”

Porkchop swam off mumbling to himself. Bud and Squigs watched him jet away followed by some other giant squids that Squigs didn’t know.

“See!” Bud blasted out. Believe me now? Don’t mess with this, this---this thing with, with spinners on the back of it!

“Hey, my arms hurt. Can I bum as ride,” Squigs said.

Bud swam away with Squigs behind holding onto Bud’s body with a tentacle. Squigs didn’t say much, but Bud’s chirping and clicking and head-nodding attracted other creatures. Most agreed that Bud should use better language especially with young ones about!


The End


Minor Loss of Fidelity



“Hi! I'm Jimmy! What's your name?” The baby barracuda looked at the shark's eye, waiting for a response.

“David, Jimmy. My name is David.” The tiger shark tried to hide his annoyance, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to do.

“Good to meet you Davy...”

“I said David...”

“So Davy – the reef sure is beautiful today! - huh? Huh?” The barracuda could not have been more excited as the scene beside them displayed in bright reds & pinks & blues.

“Yes, I suppose it is beautiful.”

“I am hungry! Famished! Starving! Literally starving! I think I've been starving my whole life!”

“I just ate a school of clownfish, so I'm good,” answered the shark as he moved slowly side to side, navigating the outskirts of the reef. “But I could always do with a snack.”

“Hi! My name's Jimmy! What's your name?”

The shark rolled his eyes. “David. My name's David.”

“Wow Davy – I'm starving! I've been hungry my whole life.”

“Eat something. There's a group of shrimp up ahead – I'll send some your way.” The shark used his huge body to stir up the water enough so some of the tiny shrimp fell into his buddy's path. The baby barracuda eagerly shovelled them into his mouth.

“Hey David – what's going on?” asked Vilas a second shark who had seen the disturbance close to the ocean floor.

“Nothing, really. I seem to have acquired a pet.” David nodded to the six-inch fish floating by his eyeball.

The small barracuda smiled happily for a moment before blurting out, “Hi guys! My name's Jimmy. What are your names?”

“Your pet doesn't seem to know you,” said Vilas.

“He knows me.”
“Has he been licking a spotted Trunkfish? – sounds like the ciguatera has gone to his brain.”

“It's just that whole fish brain thing – you know: 'A fish only remembers the last 7 seconds'.” They both nodded knowingly.

“Must make it difficult to hold a meaningful conversation,” said Vilas.

The baby barracuda didn't seem to notice the sharks talking to each other. “My belly is so full! I've had a great life so far and I've never been hungry! Hooray!”

“It's good to be happy,” said David.

“Hi! My name's Jimmy – I didn't catch your names, fellas.”

“David...and this is Vilas.”

“Well hello David and Vilas!”

The second shark leaned in closer to David. “That could get irritating David.”

“Tolerance and acceptance is the price you pay in any relationship,” the shark answered, opening his mouth to suck in a school of yellow tangs. “But maybe the little guy’s right, in a way. If we could only remember the last seven seconds, maybe we wouldn't be so stressed out all the time. Est -ya know. What is is. Maybe we could become more than just godless killing machines if we could just let go of the past and seize the moment.”

The second shark nodded slightly, up and down, as much as was possible for a shark.

“I'm hungry!” announced Jimmy. “Feels like I've never had a thing to eat my whole life! I wonder what it's like not to be hungry. I'll bet that would feel really good. Hey! I'm Jimmy! What are your names?”

“I'm David Jimmy and this is...”

“David Jimmy? Your last name is the same as my first name! I wonder if we're related by marriage or something.”

And then the ocean became quiet except for a tiny crunch, a swallow, and the sound of David quietly counting to seven – out of respect for the missing fish. “Pets taste good,” David the tiger shark finally said.

“Yeah, mate. 150 million years of sharks existing virtually unchanged can't be wrong.”


The End


The One That Didn't Get Away



“YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” Ida screamed at her mother, the senior matriarch of the orca pod.

“Dear, her mother said, “you are of age, and it is time you considered…”

“I DON’T WANT TO GET MARRIED. I DON”T WANT BABIES. NOT NOW! NOT EVER!”

“Maybe you should talk with your father.” Ida is so much like him, she thought. Maybe he could say something.

Talk was one thing her father didn’t want to do. He knew he was wrapped around his daughter’s dorsal fin, but what could he do? His wife was the boss.

They spoke privately. He said to Ida, “I’ll do what I can. I do understand. Maybe it is too soon…” She interrupted swishing her tail,“TOO soon? Never! Never! Never!”

“Please, Ida,” he begged. She’s so much like her mother, he thought. “Please, just be a bit calmer, please. Your mother doesn’t like contradiction. You know that. And you know there is more to life than just play. You have to have a meaning, a purpose.”

“Yes Daddy,” she said giving him that look. Ida knew that as long as her father sided with her, her mother would back off, if only for a while.

Well, maybe not today.

Her mother came back and started in again. Ida let out a mind numbing, sea lion stunning echo-ping, flipped her dorsal fin at both of them, breached the surface, and all three tons of her swam off at a top speed of 30 knots, porpoising as she went.

Ida swam and swam for what felt like an eternity. She eased down to a slow float, then skyhopped to see where she was. The location was familiar from a long time ago. There was a beach up ahead. She remembered this is where her mom first beached her to teach her how to get sea lions and other animals on land that were close enough to the water to eat. She remembered how scared she was at first. Then it became fun.

Ida was startled by a splash to her starboard. “Ping, she sent. “Who are you?” A double ping came back, but a different dialect. Well at least it was related, she thought. She swam toward the source, pinging.

Then she saw him. “A porpoise, a little porpoise. How cute,” she said. “He’s chasing fish. I think I’ll play too.”

Ida swam up beside him and gave him a nudge. She was huge compared to him. He didn’t care. He was having fun and now he had a playmate. The two of them corralled a school of fish and pinged to stun. Occasionally each one would hit a fish with their tail fin. It would fly out the water. The other would leap to catch and eat it. They ate to their bellies were full.

She was going through all the dialects she knew from different pods, trying to get verbal communication going. Finally she hit one that they both knew. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Ida. What’s yours?”

“Aqua,” he said. Where are you from and what are you doing here?”

“I’m from out there and I just swam away from my pod.”

“That’s not too good. Are you okay?” He asked. “I’m just fishing. I come here a lot. There’s always a feast and when the tide is right, I can surf the waves. You should try it!”

“I never surfed before,” she said. “Show me how.”

“The tide is coming in, sure,” he replied.

She was a quick learner and soon was equal to him. They played all day. They both noticed the sky getting darker. “There’s a nice cove we can stay in until the morning. It’s safe,” he said giving the geolocation.

“We usually never leave our matrilines for more than a few hours. Mom and Dad are probably going nuts,” Ida said as she raced him to the cove.

Aqua said, “We sometimes go alone but not too much. We’re not as big as your kind.” Aqua knew they were the apex of the predators and had none to fear.


They talked all night long. Ida thought, he’s so different from the others. He nice, fun to be with, and she hit upon an idea. “Do you want to come home with me? It’s okay. My mom is the head matriarch. No one will bother you. Trust me.”

Aqua was a bit surprised, and concerned. Yes they were related but he never heard of an orca and porpoise being friends. If her family was like she was, what the hell. “Sure why not,” he answered.

As they headed back she told him more of what was going on. He said, “No one ever does that in my family. I’m not sure how we would take to that.”

“I’M NOT DOING IT!” She screamed.

Aqua was stunned by the ferocity of the outburst.

“I’m sorry,” Ida said as she turned toward him. He was still there, staring at her. He’s a friend, that’s good, she thought.

They swam past the guardian orcas that were searching for her. The guardians looked and couldn’t believe their eyes. They communicated the sighting. Bad news and gossip travel quickly, especially in water. Ida’s mother knew of the situation long before Ida got home. She had an idea.

When Ida’s father got wind of this, he went up to his wife and said, “Relation or not, he’s out of here or he’s dinner.”

“Now dear,” she said, “look at it this way, it’s a start in the right direction. Don’t say anything. Just go along. I’m sure it won’t be anything to concern ourselves with, as long as we don’t make a big deal about it.”

“I hope you’re right,” he replied as Ida entered the pod.

As if nothing had happened the day before she said, “Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my good friend and companion, Aqua. And Daddy, as you said, I should have a porpoise in life. He’s mine.”


The End


Midway



As soon as the first huge, metallic parts and some scaly remains appeared, filtering down from the upper ocean level, Keee had a sudden start.

“Look at those things coming from above,” the young, darkly-colored, deep sea fish exclaimed, addressing his friend swimming next to him. “They are falling all over the place, lots of them.”

“I see, something is happening up there,” Qeee nodded, slowly moving his long mouth full of bristle-like teeth.

“However, let me draw your attention to the corpses of dead fish entering our territory…aren’t they scary? They’re bigger, weirder, more unusual, and more colorful than any other beings I’ve ever seen in our ocean. And all of them are dissected or partially burnt up!”

“Of course, Keee, we are only bristlemouths – living way down here, 3,280 feet below sea level. It doesn’t happen very often that we get to see those, because they live very far away from here, above our heads, within the higher ocean level.”

“So, how do you know that? Have you seen such creatures before?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I’ve already stumbled upon such bodies in the past. When they die they come down to the farthest depths, if they are not eaten by predators before they land down here, of course.”

“So you are not surprised!”

“Actually, I am, indeed…since there are so many of them falling over all at the same time. Something strange, surely a bloody battle, is occurring up there, on the surface. Do you see those hard, metallic wrecks and big parts accompanying the dead fish bodies to the bottom? They are artifacts made by men.”

“Are they fish, too?”

“No, they are not…hey, watch your back, you were going to get hit!”

Keee moved away from a big airplane wing (even if he didn’t know what it was…) approaching the bottom and saved himself just in time. “Thank you!”

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, yes…things are getting dangerous here! By the way, I was just thinking…”

“About what?” Qeee asked him.

“So, those creatures that you said live in the air, they are like aliens to us, as are those dead fish from the upper level. Correct?”

“In a way, just as you’ve said.”

“Listen to me, Qeee…I never imagined there were so many aliens surrounding us, living on the other levels of the ocean, past the areas where we hunt and swim daily.”

“And many others which stay just below us, living in the farthest depths that we can’t reach or even think of.”

“Then, we’ll never be able to see or meet them…?”

“Most likely not, my friend. We live within the sea level we were assigned at birth and are used to seeing other animals overhead as dark shapes against a lighter background, always trying not to cast our shadow on some fiercer predators below in order to survive longer. We can’t enter the land of men - their realm of air lying out there, past the water barrier limiting the level above our territory - nor can we go further into the depths. But the beings living there maybe - one day - will have a glimpse of us, the same as we are looking at these corpses now, when we are dead in the end, if no predators eat us before we float to the bottom.”

“What a plaintive guy you are today!” he objected.

“You said it! But you provoked me first, Keee.”

“You’re right,” Keee acknowledged. “Anyway, you know, it’s sad to think of our limited perspectives…we’ll never be allowed to discover what exists past our zone. All the creatures living there will always be a sort of aliens to us, those things unknowable in the end.”

“We live in the middle, between alien worlds, and can’t willingly cross the lines.”

“Qeee, do you ever think of the way those strange lifeforms begin their life cycle out there? I mean, above and below us…do you think they come out of eggs or some unusual, unexpected way?”

“Their births could be scary, and their endings are likely to be as sad as ours will be one day, but it’s the middle that counts the most, for sure.”

“Well, that sounds like a quote, but probably you’re right!”

“Always remember, as the famous fish proverb goes, ‘the miracle is not to fly in the air, or to walk on the earth, but to swim in the water’ - as we usually do.”

“Now, you’re getting too much philosophical to me, by all means.”

“Really, am I?”

“So just fire-up all of the photophores along your body and light the way! We need to get back home on time, you know.”

“If we don’t meet some larger predator ahead of us.”

“You said it!” Keee replied, looking warily at the obscure waters surrounding both of them, which had been made slightly more transparent by their feeble bioluminescence.


The End


Deadly Echoes



Mother of us all, I hate politics. I avoid getting involved in Consensus discussions whenever I can. I haven’t even voiced my vote since my first deepfeed, one moon after my calfhood ended. So when I heard my name in the Song, it surprised me.

I was darkhunting a grabber that was larger than any I’d ever tasted. My time was almost up and the dozen smaller grabbers rested heavy in my belly. I couldn’t stay down much longer, but I could tell from the echo I was close to a feast that would last me a moon, or more.

This verse of the everlasting Song was short, but filled with sadness, respect, and meaning.

Deepthrumm has Fallen. Boomer will talk with the new Elder.

My name from the Consensus registered with me just as my jaws clamped on the huge grabber. The distraction made me bite just a little late and though I had her, it was low in the mantle instead of higher in the body. Her oversized, hooked suckers scraped the hide of my head, nearly taking my right eye as she struggled for freedom. She was a lot bigger than I thought. A good omen, I hoped.

It took me nearly to brightwater to swallow her. I could taste my own blood flowing in the World around me as I rose to light and breath. I knew I would bear the scars of this darkhunt until I too, Fell. All the way up I reflected on the task that the Consensus had decided, was mine alone.

I added my voice to the keen for Deepthrumm, our Elder since I was a calf, and listened for Highspout to add hers. But she never did. Her keen—always present—was for Darkshadow, our baby girl. She had no room in her immense heart for any other grief. It contained only the void left when our baby was taken, and vengance.

But now Highspout, my mate, was Elder.

My trip was uneventful. I fed and rested, avoided the skimmers with their incoherent, monotonous songs. Their songs never make any sense, but sometimes we hear what seem to be voices from their bellies. Their echoes tell me they are stone, so they can’t be alive. But sometimes I wonder.

The everlasting Song told me where Highspout was hunting. But the World is large, and she ignored my plea to speak with her. When I heard the infantile chatter of a large pod of orcas, I followed them. They knew I was there, and I tasted their fear. They may be primitive, but they know when they are hunted.

I felt her first by the subtle displacement of the World as she moved below me. She was silent, and very deep. But she was rising fast. I saw her tactic immediately. While the orcas tracked me, they wouldn’t be looking downward for their true hunter. I could have warned them. There is a reason I am called Boomer, but I stayed my voice.

The pod barely knew what hit them. When they felt the World surge from below, they clustered instead of scattering. In their confusion, they did just what Highspout had planned.

She was rising so fast that I could hear her body expanding from the crushing pressure of the fardeep. She’d been silent while she hunted, but I heard and then felt her mourning keen as it built. To the orcas, it was disorienting but not yet damaging. To me, it was a reminder of my own pain at the loss of little Darkshadow.

The grief in her voice permeated the World around me and flowed through me, as well. It resonated with something deep within my soul that I don’t think I knew was there. It was as if I had just now heard in the Song that Darshadow had been taken by orcas.

I thought I had made peace with her loss. It was the way of the World, after all. We hunt, we are hunted. Orcas can kill the young and the weak, but know better than to try it with a healthy adult. But Highspout’s grief and anger washed through me and my own anger echoed, in return.

My plan to stay back and let her take her vengeance was forgotten in an instant, and my flukes cavitated the World as I accelerated toward the doomed pod. They had killed my baby girl, and now they were before me.

When her mourning keen reached the amplitude where the smaller orcas’ organs began to rupture, I added my own voice—my own grief—to hers.

And I Am. . BOOMER!

It was no longer a hunt. It was a massacre.

I reached the pod first, but barely. I rode her surge from the fardeep and breached above the surviving adults. So forceful was my headlong rush, combined with the upwash of Highspout’s, that for just a moment, my entire body was outside the World.

I swam the air!

My splash shattered the very bones of the living and the dead, alike.

Highspout had much more experience hunting them than I did. The largest orca in the pod was limping away, barely able to swim, when her snout took him in the belly. Half of her breached before she rejoined the World. I heard the splash of his broken body as I began to feed on the dead and dying.

I had never tasted orca. We hardly ever hunt them. They’re strangely sweet.

We fed like mindless sharks until we were both so heavy we could barely dive.

When it was done, she finally spoke.

“I miss her, Boomer.”

“Me too, my love. But you are Elder, now.”

“I know.”

“You can’t refuse for much longer. The Song calls for you.”

“And I will assume my duties.”

“I know you will, Love.” I hesitated, trying to think before I spoke.

“And I will help you. I’ll be your consort.”

“But you hate politics!”

“Who better, then?”


The End

[kailhofer]

To vote, rate these stories using the form below with scores of 0-10 (in whole numbers) and send it to me via PM: (Copy it into memory, click the 'PM' button below my avatar (or depending on your board style, mouse over the green username by my avatar and a menu will pop up with an option to send a private message), paste the form in, & then fill in your scores.)

Categories:
1) What overall score would you give the story?
2) How good was the Characterization?
3) How effective (or original) was the plot?
4) How clear was the setting to you?
5) How good was the use of dialog?
6) How well did the story meet or address the challenge as it was given?

NOTE: you must have posted at least one message before you can send a PM. Join in a discussion or just say hi in a thread before voting via PM. If I suspect a voter of being a false identity (i.e. a troll), I won't count their vote.

Author scores for their own entry will not be counted.



Oh, Well, It'll Grow Back
1) Overall:
2) Characterization:
3) Plot:
4) Setting:
5) Dialog:
6) Challenge:

Minor Loss of Fidelity
1) Overall:
2) Characterization:
3) Plot:
4) Setting:
5) Dialog:
6) Challenge:

The One That Didn't Get Away
1) Overall:
2) Characterization:
3) Plot:
4) Setting:
5) Dialog:
6) Challenge:

Midway
1) Overall:
2) Characterization:
3) Plot:
4) Setting:
5) Dialog:
6) Challenge:

Deadly Echoes
1) Overall:
2) Characterization:
3) Plot:
4) Setting:
5) Dialog:
6) Challenge:

[Lester Curtis]

I've got my votes sent . . . a most interesting challenge.

[kailhofer]

Your early leaders are Bill and Rick.

(There are too few entrants to do the whole race motif in these announcements.)

[Megawatts]

Got my votes in. Some very good ones and interesting! Scf/fy writers can write in any genre, but non scf/fy writers can't write in scf/fy. I don't know if that is true or not, but I would like some opinions about that.

[kailhofer]

Your current leaders are Rick and Michele.

[Megawatts]

Welcome back Bill. I liked you opinion on Scf-Fy writers and writers in general.
Jack London wrote science-fiction sometimes. Read "The Shadow and the flash" a short story but one that is entertaining.

I still believe that Scf-Fy writers have more imagination coupled with more investigatory interests and more child-like innocence that creates a world in which the universe is a playground. Alien love, alien hates...Shakespeare in space, Hitler reborn on the planet Zoerkin--although he might have five or six eyes and long tentacles--and Romeo and Juliet racing along the galaxies to escape their parents!

Yes, the science fiction writer sees and knows all other genre, at least in his/her muse.

Bill, write a short romance story! You might see that when all the skin of science-fiction is
removed, you'll really come up with something good. Try it!!!

[Robert_Moriyama]

I gotta know -- what does "scf / fy" mean?

"Sci-fi" is a much-hated short form for "science fiction" that dates back to Hugo Gernsback himself. (In the 70s, insiders preferred "sf", which was short for "science fiction" or sometimes "speculative fiction", "science fantasy", etc.)

"Syfy" is the illiterate version recently adopted by the U.S. cable channel that airs mainly science fiction / fantasy / horror and related programming.

"scf / fy" is difficult to pronounce and etymologically obscure... I'd think it was a typo if Megawatts wasn't spelling it the same way consistently.

So, 'Watts up?

[Megawatts]

It was a typo. But in all honesty I believe it was a parapraxis of pen and not speech.

[kailhofer]

I know a certain forum thread that could use a lot more attention in the next 2 hours and 5 minutes.

Be a pal. Vote for these stories.

[kailhofer]

Congratulations to Bill Wolfe, winner in the "Tales of the Sea" challenge! Bill's story, "Deadly Echoes," just squeaked out a victory by only two points.



For the record, these were the authors of the entries for this month:

Oh, Well, It'll Grow Back by George T. Philibin
Minor Loss of Fidelity by Michele Dutcher
The One That Didn't Get Away by Richard Tornello
Midway by Sergio Palumbo
Deadly Echoes by Bill Wolfe


SCORES: (Overall next to the story title, then the average score next to each question #.)



Oh, Well, It'll Grow Back : 198
1) Overall: 4
2) Characterization: 5
3) Plot: 4
4) Setting: 4
5) Dialog: 5
6) Challenge: 6
# Zeroes: 1
# Perfect 10s: 1

Minor Loss of Fidelity : 285
1) Overall: 7
2) Characterization: 7
3) Plot: 6
4) Setting: 6
5) Dialog: 8
6) Challenge: 8
# Zeroes: 0
# Perfect 10s: 6

The One That Didn't Get Away : 294
1) Overall: 7
2) Characterization: 7
3) Plot: 7
4) Setting: 6
5) Dialog: 7
6) Challenge: 8
# Zeroes: 0
# Perfect 10s: 6

Midway : 232
1) Overall: 5
2) Characterization: 5
3) Plot: 4
4) Setting: 5
5) Dialog: 6
6) Challenge: 7
# Zeroes: 1
# Perfect 10s: 4

Deadly Echoes : 296
1) Overall: 7
2) Characterization: 7
3) Plot: 7
4) Setting: 7
5) Dialog: 6
6) Challenge: 8
# Zeroes: 0
# Perfect 10s: 10

[Lester Curtis]

Congrats, Bill!

For once, I voted in concert with most of the others -- and then some -- you have gotten my very first set of perfect tens.

I may be back to discuss the rest later. Enjoy your laurel; you earned it.

[Megawatts]

Congrats, Bill!
Loved it! In fact this is one where I liked all other stores better than mine!!

[Megawatts]

I just watched the video that the Swedish treasure hunters took in the Baltic sea.
It is interesting and I hope further dives will determine what it is.

If it is a UFO, then what a hell of a find!

[Megawatts]

I shoud win sometime for my story! After all, I sank farther down in the voiting than any other's!!

[Megawatts]

Hey, Rick, I like the pasta and meatballs and the wine.

I've been at the top once, and now at the bottom! But alas, we Pennsylvanians always re-group and forge ahead. Just too bad the Pittsburgh Steelers didn't get to the top this year. Oh,well,
there is always next year.

[Lester Curtis]

Forging a head is the preferred method of manufacture for heavy-duty robot construction, such as may be used in battle.

Much stronger than castings or stampings. They're heavy, though, so pay attention to the added power requirements.

[Megawatts]

Speaking of UFO’s, we had one close to Johnstown in the 1960s. I remember it for me and my buddy with two girls were going to visit the site then, but we never made it.

The place is call ‘Kecksburgh!’ And it’s been on the history channel and other documentary channels for years! Stan Gordon a local researcher into UFOs lives no too far from Kecksburgh. My buddy from work knows him.

Years ago when I worked in the coal mines, I talked with another miner that witnessed the whole thing.

He informed me that it was a real zoo that night and the next couple of day. According to him, the army and the local sheriff got into a big fight, and both threatened to arrest one another! The state police also got involved and many strangers who looked important also showed up fast.

He never got up to see the site that night, but he told me that some of his buddies witnessed the thing in the air, and said it acted like a helicopter: Changing direction, slowing down then speeding up, and changing its angle of attack before it crashed!

Whatever it was it made the town divided over the years. Some believe, and other just laugh at the whole thing!

I imagine the truth will never be known, but all agree that something very very unusual that night did take place over Kecksburhg.

I just wish that my buddy and me had gone there now---with or without the girls!!

Type in Stan Gordon. His web site is very interesting!!

[Robert_Moriyama]

Hold up! when I click the link above it takes you to my email. Unless you'd like to send me an email - you'd better just look up his name on the web: Alan Caviness. Here's his website - for sure - http://www.cavinessreport.com/

No, silly -- it's a "mailto:" reference, so whoever clicks on it will get a "compose new message" to Mr. Caviness in whatever e-mail program they have installed. It won't have them compose mail to you, dear, unless the alien mind probe takes over their typing fingers and changes the address before they hit "send".

[Lester Curtis]

Getting back on topic . . .

my votes were as follows:

Oh, Well, It'll Grow Back 35
1) Overall: 5
2) Characterization: 4
3) Plot: 6
4) Setting: 7
5) Dialog: 6
6) Challenge: 7

Minor Loss of Fidelity 50
1) Overall: 8
2) Characterization: 8
3) Plot: 8
4) Setting: 8
5) Dialog: 8
6) Challenge: 10

The One That Didn't Get Away 44
1) Overall: 8
2) Characterization: 7
3) Plot: 7
4) Setting: 5
5) Dialog: 7
6) Challenge: 10

Midway 34
1) Overall: 5
2) Characterization: 5
3) Plot: 4
4) Setting: 6
5) Dialog: 4
6) Challenge: 10

Deadly Echoes 60
1) Overall: 10
2) Characterization: 10
3) Plot: 10
4) Setting: 10
5) Dialog: 10
6) Challenge: 10

I was stumped, but good, with this challenge . . . thought, "How do you develop personalities and a plot for creatures whose whole lives involve nothing more complicated than 1) eat, 2) don't get eaten, and 3) reproduce? And that third one isn't even very interesting (for most of them).

Just shows how limited my own imagination is.

Bill did such an amazing job; I got a very convincing sense of these creatures' characters and motivations, not to mention their deep and ancient culture. These are people -- and not just cartoon people, either. Excellent plot.

Besides, I can't help but love a story that begins with, "Mother of us all, I hate politics."

"The One That Didn't Get Away" almost knocked me down laughing; I didn't see that ending coming at all.

"Minor Loss of Fidelity" was very good; I though it played very well to what I would consider a fish's attention span -- never mind the question of how any of them tell time.

"Oh Well, It'll Grow Back" lost me at one point -- they're discussing the markings on the submarines, and they somehow know what a hammer and sickle are.

"Midway" was a little weak in places, especially when the characters are discussing the wreckage as "artifacts made by men." No way they could know that, I think. Weak in plot, too, but the concept was great.

[Megawatts]

You're right Bill, I did make many mistakes. Too many---and I did rush it off to Nate.

And the more I think about it, the more I realize that I did send it in with all those errors the first time! I resubmitted my story three times
before Nate accepted it, and with each submission the same original mistakes.

I have no idea why I made so many mistakes. When writing my story, I wasn’t drinking any wine or beer, so I don’t have any viable excuses why I blundered so much. Probably, I rushed too much and thought too far ahead as I typed. Or, my concentration was hampered by some medication that I’m taking now. But maybe--just plain laziness!

Bill, that was a very nice analysis of my story! A very good one that was thought out and sincere. I appreciate it. You did not miss anything, and I am going to work on eliminating my common errors when writing.

[Lester Curtis]

A happy day for the groundhogs is the one when I DON'T see them in my back yard . . .

. . . I treat 'em like the spammers.

[Robert_Moriyama]

A happy day for the groundhogs is the one when I DON'T see them in my back yard . . .

. . . I treat 'em like the spammers.

Spring always comes early around Casa Curtis, because the groundhogs don't live long enough to see their shadows.

(Lester is still waiting for one of his shots to bring out "a bubbling crude -- black gold -- Texas tea...". In the meantime, he gets a little extra protein to throw into the soup pot.)

[Lester Curtis]

A happy day for the groundhogs is the one when I DON'T see them in my back yard . . .

. . . I treat 'em like the spammers.

Spring always comes early around Casa Curtis, because the groundhogs don't live long enough to see their shadows.

(Lester is still waiting for one of his shots to bring out "a bubbling crude -- black gold -- Texas tea...". In the meantime, he gets a little extra protein to throw into the soup pot.)

Great, Robert; I love it. Truth is, though, the 'chucks don't come around that early. I never see 'em until there's lots of fresh vegetation out . . . but after that, I don't see 'em much at all (making sure they don't see me first ).

[Lester Curtis]

Okay, Lester. I have a question on this one. What part of two (or more) real & existing sea creatures who can somehow talk. . . . does George’s story not completely fulfill?

We have a two squids (giant) and an orca. . .they talk. . . .plus an unidentified 'voice from the deep.'

Why not a ten for the 'Challenge' part? As far as I can tell. . .the Challenge has been perfectly met, even if you don’t like the story, at all.

So why the seven? (Hey, you're the one who published your scores.)

Well, now that you mention it -- I just don't remember. I guess I'll have to plead to having a 'senior moment' there.

As to your choice of cetaceans, Bill -- I was going to go with cuttlefish. Not an audible form of communication, but I could imagine it being effective enough at visible ranges. Hard to translate into English, though . . .