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Flash: And so they meet again

Erin Penn

Rating: Mature

Art peeked out the window of the clothing consignment shop where she worked as she flipped the open sign to close. Drat, the creep was still hanging outside. What had she done to earn her own personal stalker?

She had to admit he was absolutely yummy with his layered blond hair and kicking fog coat, like something out of an English fantasy. His cheekbones could cut bread. He also had the patience of a priest or demon.

She started noticing him in the audience during fencing competition her Freshman year. Art had asked around since he looked interesting, but he wasn’t from campus. Over the next two years, he would show up randomly in classes open to the public, at her favorite pizza joint, and sometimes at the action-adventure movies she loved. All he did was watch from a distance.

Then three weeks ago, the guy changed from someone she saw sometimes in a crowd to a constant presence. Enough was enough. The street was beginning to empty of holiday shoppers, but plenty were still around in case this went south. She closed and bolted the shop door, lowered the gate and locked it, shifted her carrying case, then turned to see he was still leaning against the building across the street.

After checking for traffic, she strode across the roadway taking advantage of the long legs her six foot two frame provided. Up close she discovered the man stood a disappointingly five eight; she had gotten good judging height and reach on the salle.

Crowding him against the wall, she asked “What do you want?”

The man raised black eyes to meet her piercing blue. They looked impossible knowledgeable in the young face. With a sad smile, he replied, “Your future.”

Taking a step back, the woman glanced around again to verify she was still safe in a crowd. “Well, you can’t have it, you perv.” Touching the sword case strapped to her back for courage, “And if I see you around again, I will call the cops.”

“A threat to use governmental structure. Excellent. Not unexpected from a political science major, but you are also a woman of action. I wasn’t certain which way you would go.” His shoulders pushed him away from the way and Art instinctively took another step back. Something about the man screamed power … and sex … she could feel her body getting loose as though she was about to fence or fall into bed with a teammate after a match. His English accent was to die for. “When you call the bobbies, please say my name is Emrys.”

“Do you got a last name so I can Google it and find out all the other women you stalked?”

He shrugged. Her mind instantly presented a picture of the wirely frame he had sported at the spring fair. He had worn cargo shorts and a muscle shirt. Not many muscles, but no excess fat either. A runner’s body. Unfortunately her mind provided the picture sans clothes. 

“First name, last name. I’ve had many names.” He started walking away backwards. “Gregory gave me the last name of Ambrosus; I guess that will do for now.” He turned around and she watched the wool coat getting damp as light flakes of snow melted on it. He stopped for a second. Turning his head around for a second, he said, “But then I guess I should say my first name is Merlinus.” He smiled a totally, ass-kicking, pussy-warming smile before continuing his retreat.

(Word 587 – originally appearing at Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 12/2/2012 (at least tried to, doesn’t seem to be taking); reprinted in new blog format 12/24/2017. The inspirational photo for the prompt was of unknown origin; since I could not verify the copyright, I am not posting it here.)

Geeking Science: Wind Power

Erin Penn

Ancient windmills in Nashtifan village. Photo: Mohammad Hossein Taghi (CC by 4.0)

What are we going to need when we hit space and start settling other planets? Energy.

With no promise of fossil fuels on planets which may not have millions of years of active biosphere before our arrival, we will need mature energy technologies available universally on planets suitable for habitation.

(1) Solar Power
(2) Wind Power
(3) Water Power
(4) Gravity Power

Anywhere we choose to permanently settle will have these energies available. No guarantee for radioactive minerals needed for fusion and fission takes those two politically fraught items off the plate. Not every planet has a tamed magnetic-sphere (see the posting about Uranus).

To survive humans need gravity, heat (solar), and water. Wind is a by-product of the other three requirements. A planet large enough to have a water system and gravity for humans is going to have uneven heating, therefore wind.

From eSchoolToday “What is Wind Energy”

Humans have been using these energies for millennia, and yet the technologies, likely because of their simplicity and ubiquity, have never been fully developed.

Today humanity is testing out dozens of different windmill designs, mostly based on sail and lift technology. We might want to go old school though.

Ancient windmills in Nashtifan village. Photo: Mohammad Hossein Taghi (CC by 4.0)

Vertical windmills work on drag. Unfortunately drag is less efficient in transferring energy than lift, but some of the benefits may outweigh this downside. For example where horizontal windmills have their mechanisms toward the top, where the rotation center is located, vertical windmills rotation center is at the bottom and any mechanisms needing repair are within easy reach. Transferring energy from the top of a horizontal windmill requires a system to move the energy, often pulleys, which means more things to break.

Nowhere is the ease of maintenance and repair more obvious than the grinding windmills of Nashtifan village, which have been in use for over 1,000 years. To protect the village from the constant winds, a massive 65-foot wall was built. On top of the wall, since they were up there anyway, they put windmills. To make them even more efficient, they added some additional walls to direct the airflow into the windmills. A little rope, some planks, and grinding grain ceased being a constant chore.

Vertical windmills also don’t need any wind-sensing and orientation mechanisms built-in like the lift-based windmills. This reduces efficiency but, again, saves on maintenance. (See the wikipedia entry on “Vertical axis wind turbines” for more details.)

Considering the tradeoffs and developing both types of windmills (and other wind technology like the Vortex bladeless windmill) is part of creating a mature technology. Sometimes easy maintenance is primary and other times most bang for the immediate buck; having options available is key to using a technology to its fullest potential.

Who would think a thousand year old technology may be our go-to energy when settling other planets?

Author Spotlight: James R. Tuck

Erin Penn

Amazon Cover

I’ve read mostly James R. Tuck‘s Deacon Chalk series, which is in his unrelenting Dark Urban fantasy style. Having a female cowriter for Robin Hood Demon’s Bane curtailed it not a whit. 

Whether short story or full novel, Mr. Tuck creates a testosterone-driven roller coaster ride . Non-stop action beginning to end, with nothing wasted – even the slow build up the hill for the next fall into oblivion. The author promises gritty, violent mayhem and delivers.

In person at conventions, he is thoughtful and informative. If you want well-written books without much in the way of pesky emotions, look him up.

Flash: Death Wish Part 2 – Nothing Fits

Erin Penn

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature (Language)

The shower’s water and my blood were fighting each other as they ran down the drain. Water trying to follow natural forces and move one way, and my very unnatural blood running counter to how the world should work. The red froth gave me something to stare at in the shower other than my friend’s shampoo and his kids’ bath toys. I wished I still had tears to cry.

Rod’s was the nearest place I could think of.  Hell, it was the only place I could think of that they wouldn’t know.

I don’t know why the Philadelphia Court attacked. I certainly had no fucking clue why they would be angry enough to hire hunters as cleanup. Shit, I am only five … well four – five in at the equinox … and not even my creator shared anything with me.

I should have run somewhere else. Then Rodrigo would still be alive. His kids would still have their dad.

… and I wouldn’t be saddled with a death wish.

I could hear the bitch cackle. And I deserve every snide remark my creator would give me, if she had survived the attack. Which she hadn’t.

I tried to erase the picture of her head flying towards me as I was frozen by fear. But … shit … having a lover’s head hit you square in the chest does reactive the run-like-hell reflex.

I had been taught to calm prey down first. Control them. Get them to the point their only desire to please me. I had blanked Rodrigo’s memory of my feeding off of him plenty of times. Why not tonight?

Instead I talked to him! Hell, I apologized! What was I doing?

And now I got a death wish.

I twisted the nob and the water stopped. The pink foam would eventually make its way down the drain.

Rod’s towels were more thread then cloth, but they worked well enough even if none of them matched. It’s not like the water wanted to stick to me.

I moved quietly down the hall to his bedroom. Maybe something would fit me. He had over six inches and fifty pounds of muscle on me, not counting about twenty pounds of comfortable, as my mom put it.

I had been turned when I was eighteen; happy graduation – hoped you enjoyed your summer, because it is the last one you are going to get. Still hadn’t got my full growth.

Hated them. I was taught not to turn anyone before twenty-five. Just easier for the Made to blend long-term. The only reason anyone gave me for the early turn came from Al who said they needed a daywalker. If he wasn’t just tormenting me, then they broke their own rules to make me. I figured I was minion then toast, and nothing they did to me showed different. Going out in daylight HURTS … but then so did staying in the Court. Working Elias’ gas station actually was a reward in my book, even though it was far beneath the rest.

In the end, the daylight saved me. The younger you are, the less the sun affects you. Nature isn’t completely out to get you. An hour past dawn in July, and I could still run outside and keep running for a good long time. 

To my friend’s home. Well, hovel … I looked around the large closet where he had put a mattress. But whatever … he had a place. Better than me at the moment with everything from the Court gone.

The one bedroom was dedicated to his kids. Damn, he loved them. Talked about them constantly at work. Feared for them, leaving them home alone at night while they slept, keeping them feed, wondering if child services would come.

The few shirts and pants hanging over the mattress were all too large. And idea nibbled at me on how to hide and deal with the death wish.

 … The death wish

Why couldn’t have I played with him until his only thought was to please me? I’ve done it before. Then the death wish ends up being having mind-blowing sex, and that is really easy to do since people can get really off when they die. But I was so hungry and hurt.

I heard my creator’s laugh again. No excuse. She had taught me on my first kill just what being caught up in a death wish gets you. Sip – never kill except on the anniversary – and then only after getting the prey prepared. I’ve killed only five times, two in training and three anniversaries.

I pulled on one of the faded Mr. Mart shirts. Behind me I heard movement. For a second I was paralyzed again. They found me.

Then a slight mew of a child’s sigh and I realized what was happening. The children. It was about ten, so Rod’s after-work nap would be soon ending for what he called the ”las guerras de comida”.

I cracked open the hall door to look at the triplets. Two identical boys and one angelic girl just beginning to stretch and twist out of dreamland.

And I knew.

I had to do it. I began to pull Rodrigo’s form about me. I had until my anniversary in September to wear it. Looking like him would let me hide in plain sight. The others would not expect me to take care of three kids. But function follows form, and memories and actions would pop up while I wore his shell. I should be able to do this. I already knew his job.

I shrugged my shoulders and the shirt settled on my new frame. I strode back to grab some pants.

So this is what tall feels like. Very cool.

… I would also have time to figure out why the hell a sane man rather have a vampire take his kids than their own mother.

(words 985 – first published 11/28/2012; republished new blog format 12/17/2017)