Category Archives: Netwalking Space

I’m generally not a fan of prologues. But for some reason, this came to me as a possible prologue for Netwalking Space. Appropriate timing since I’m starting the rewrite tomorrow or Friday. So what do folks think about this?

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PROLOGUE

Once there was a woman who discovered secrets about her origins. To keep those secrets from destroying her children, she became powerful and destructive herself, chasing after immortality to avoid her ghosts. But in living beyond death, this woman discovered those shadows had a deeper claim on her than ever.

Once there was a woman who loved a man who built war machines. Over their lifetime together, he weaponized his beautiful and terrifying wife as they sought to master the effects caused by the capture of the strange city-killing machine called the Gizmo. The powerful daughter of a formidable mother, this woman rose to political heights greater than any her mother had accomplished. But when her beloved lived beyond death, she could not endure the result.

Once there was a woman who was a dutiful daughter. She served as her weaponized mother’s enforcer, mastering the wireless technology enabled by the Gizmo that allowed humans to upload personalities into the virtual world of digital life. She learned to control and work with those who lived beyond death. But this woman chose her daughter over her mother, and in doing so, gained more power over those who lived beyond death.

Once there was a woman who loved both space and the devoted assassin-in-training who had grown up with her. She took custody of the great-grandmother who had lived beyond death, forging a collaboration meant to take on worlds. But this woman and the man she loved have been targeted by the Gizmo since childhood, under consistent threat by shadows of those who lived beyond death.

Sarah. Diana. Melanie. Bess. Great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, daughter.

The Gizmo stirs as it senses the approaching fulfillment of its original purpose.

But first it has to deal with these four women, alive and dead.

Perhaps the secrets of the eldest may provide the key it needs.

About six weeks and right around 85k in rough draft, but it’s DONE. I’ll probably putz around a wee bit with the ending tomorrow, but…it’s done, done, DONE.

Six weeks of intensive writing, at about 2000 words a day average with some days going as high as 3000 or 35oo words. I did hit 4000 one day, but that was a rarity. While the ending took a few right hand turns, for the most part the storyline followed my original plan. I don’t know if it was the consistent writing, or what, but for once I didn’t have to stop in the middle third to rewrite the outline and whip the plan back in shape. I’m very pleased with that prospect.

There will need to be some significant rewriting before I ship it out to beta readers. I know there’s some continuity needs with earlier books, and within the story. I also have a subculture with too many A names, and I need to figure out some handwavium for the science part in order to maintain the narrative tension.

But it’s pretty much a wrap for this last book of the Netwalk Sequence.

Between school starting back up and trying to get the novel finished and preserving the fall harvest, it’s been a busy time. But I’m getting close to finishing the book–probably 85k-90k since I’m now at 80k and we’re at the climax. 5k to play that out, 5 more k to resolve. Cool.

So here’s some of what I’m working on today:

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A prickling sensation like that of a swarm of insects with clawed feet scrabbled from her elbows down to her hands. Bess forced herself to relax as Alex/Sarah took over her hands, pushing past the springy resistance with three practiced twists. Stock and firing chamber were together.

The crawling feel reversed itself, climbing from fingertips to hands to wrists to elbows.

<Whew. That felt weird,> Sarah/Alex speeched.

<I’ll say so. Will you need to do the same thing with the barrel?> Bess balanced the half-assembled rifle in her left hand, working her right hand open, closed, open, closed until she could feel herself in it again. Then she shifted the rifle to her right hand and repeated with her left.

<No, the programming’s focused in those two pieces. Placement is more important.> More Alex than Sarah this time.

Light flashed at them. Bess ducked, careful to keep the rifle steady.

“I thought you two would try something sneaky like this,” a woman’s voice said over their radios. “Put that rifle down and raise your hands. I’m on the next ridge behind you.”

“Who the hell are you?” Alex demanded, stepping to shield Bess. He reached behind with his good hand and took the half-assembled rifle from her. He pressed several buttons.

Laughter. “I’m the ticket to your new forever.”