Space Cat Rocket Ship

Midnight Sun on Mars

2008-07-24T21:06:00.006+01:00

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona
/Texas A&M University

Whichever planet you're on, as long as it has a tilted axis, the seasons work the same. This is essentially a time-lapse image taken by Phoenix, showing the movement of the sun in the Martian arctic as the Red Planet enters northern winter.

So: a photo of an alien sunset that doesn't happen. Rather nifty, I think.

Ring Scale

2008-07-22T23:37:00.002+01:00

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

This monochrome Cassini image lends Saturn an everyday solidity that belies its gargantuan scale. Janus, a speck in the centre of the picture just above the rings, is about 180km across, and Pandora, just to the left of Janus (you'll want to click for the full view to see them properly) is 80km in diameter.

Saturn, on the other hand, stretches across 120,000km, and is over a million km from Cassini's wide-angle (ie. not especially telescopic) camera.

Films

2008-07-21T19:05:00.002+01:00

Been shopping.

Gun Mute: Version 6 and Extras

2008-07-20T22:32:00.001+01:00

Gun Mute: Version 6
Version 6 of Gun Mute fixes a few bugs that you hopefully never saw, but that might have been a bit jarring if you did.

The new files are in the same place as the old ones:

-Windows executable - a zip file containing a simple double-click-to-run file for Windows.
-.t3 file -a file that can be run with interpreters for Windows, Mac and Linux.

And because that's not especially interesting, here's a little something... extra.

Gun Mute: Extras
1. Design Notes

It took twelve A4 pages to design Gun Mute. Here are the four most interesting ones.

This was my first attempt at putting names to puzzles. In the next such document, the cast was pretty much finalised, but there are a few differences in this one. (Warning: puzzle spoilers!)

Atomic April was originally a lot more complicated than she is now. I had trouble making this puzzle hang together until I decided to give her a 'transparent brain jar'. Now she's one of my favourite characters. If you can make any sense of the diagram above, you're doing better than me.

I wrote out the Sheriff's speech in one go, during a bout of insomnia. My handwriting is much neater at one in the morning it seems. (Warning: plot spoilers!)

Towards the end of development, I suddenly became worried that the game was too short, and quickly cooked up three extra characters who never made it into the game. The hypnotist would have been called Mesmer the Amazing.

Obviously, you can find additional design notes on this blog, in my Gun Mute category.

2. Deleted Scene

This tutorial sequence was completed but never fully fleshed out. Ultimately I decided that it was completely unnecessary and only likely to interrupt the game's urgent flow towards noon. (Warning: plot spoilers!)

3. Alternate Ending

The game was originally going to end with Mute and Elias riding away on a robot horse, with Juanita tagging along if you had de-programmed her. As I worked on the game, though, it became increasingly more difficult to come up with a good reason why they'd leave town after systematically killing everyone who might cause them trouble, especially after I started adding more friendly and ambiguous characters. Eventually I came up with the ending that the game currently has, which nevertheless went through two or three iterations.

4. Secrets

It really is worth pointing and waving around friendly characters, especially after you've relieved their burdens. I did my best to implement responses to pointing at pretty much every object around them. Most of it is just small talk, but there are a few mentions of bigger things. It is possible, for example, to get Elias to mention Robo-City Alpha.

5. Feelies

I did start work on a little extra that was going to be included with the game: a tourist pamphlet for the Radiation Plains, trying to appeal to the inhabitants of 'Robo-City Alpha'. It started with a foreword by Sheriff Clayton, talking about his efforts to make the area safe, and then featured three testimonials by happy tourists, including a robot drone looking to relax among the meat bags, a once-human intelligence from the Atmospheric Networks (as mentioned by the plainswoman) who enjoyed reminding herself of the misery of physical form, and a third perspective that I can't actually remember. All this was interspersed with little boxes dispelling common myths about the plains, such as the likelihood of turning into a mutant zomboid.

The chief issue with this document was formatting: I just lumped it all into a crappy html file, and I didn't really have the confidence in it to spend time getting it into shape. The Radiation Plains tourist brochure may now be lost for all time, as I don't seem to have backed it up from my old - now deceased - computer. I wouldn't worry too much, though - it really was a bit rubbish.

6. The End

Well, that's pretty much everything I can think of that might interest you. Please stop playing Gun Mute so that I won't have to fix anymore bugs.

Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 5

2008-07-20T21:59:00.002+01:00

Previously: “Time to move on from Fortress City. But will a hot-air balloon get us past Prometheus, the renegade Sky Spider machine?”

Part 5: Lab Rat Balloon

I sat on a grass verge, looking out into the blackness of night.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Dreams,” I answered.

Lady Una glided out of the shadows, moving noiselessly over the cobblestone path. “Nightmares?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Memories.”

She smiled lopsidedly – a strange gesture for her delicate features. “Same thing these days. May I sit with you?”

“Trouble sleeping yourself?”

“Always,” she answered, and then folded up in a peculiar and graceful motion that found her seated on the ground beside me, her high-necked, hoop-skirted dress uncreased.

“I think, perhaps... you should consider wearing more practical clothes once we leave the city,” I suggested.

“I know about the Select Committee,” Lady Una responded.

I was unsure how to respond. “Excuse me?”

“I've mentioned that my uncle's library carried copies of files from the Imperial Society, have I not? They really were surprisingly detailed – although, of course, they could say nothing of what is presumably known only by yourself among all humans.”

I shifted uncomfortably. The ground beneath me seemed to have suddenly become hard and uneven.

Lady Una studied her fingernails in the moonlight. “There's no need to squirm doctor. You did what you thought was right. There's no shame in that. I trust you.”

“I'm really not sure why.”

She turned her pale face to look at me. “Will you trust me in return, doctor?”

“Are you doing this to the others as well?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can't see why you'd single me out for special trust, given what you know. So I suspect you're doing this to Thurlow and Phenice as well, maybe even EON-4. Taking us aside one by one and making an agreement of mutual trust?”

“Maybe I am. Would you like to be the one to turn me down?”

“Hardly.”

“Well then, I'll trust you to help my uncle in his quest. And you'll trust me to dress myself. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, uncertainly.

She leaned back on her gloved hands. “Now perhaps you'll tell me exactly what it is about this view that you find so appealing?”

I looked out into the darkness. There was almost nothing there, just faint gas lamps, moon-silvered rooftops and a sprinkling of stars. “I'm not sure. I just felt the need to get some fresh air and look out to sea. I think I can almost hear it at times, but maybe it's just the blood in my ears.”

She shivered. “It just looks desolate to me. A lot of dirty rooftops and the unfriendly depths of space.”

I laughed. “Country girl.”

She looked a bit bemused at that. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I like the rooftops. It's nice to know there are people behind them, sound asleep. It feels surreal. Like the world behind me is a dream, or this is, and I don't know if I'm awake or not.”

To my great surprise, Lady Una reached over and pinched my arm through my shirt.

“Ouch!”

“Awake,” she stated. “They're both real.”

“Bit too literal. That hurt.”

“I don't know my own strength. But you'll live, I'm sure. How is your rat?”

“Relocated, at least. Still alive, I hope. Certainly finding life harder outside the city than within its walls.”

“Did Prometheus react at all?”

“No. The thing hasn't moved since I first saw it. There's no way to know if it'll react the same way to a hot air balloon with humans in it as it did to a rat tied to a helium balloon. The wind is moving in the right direction, at least. Surprising...” I met her eye. “Surprising that EON-4 managed to get the balloon from Kirkham, don't you think?”

She said nothing.

“I can't keep my eyes open much longer,” I admitted.

“Must be the company.”

“Hardly.”

“Hardly,” she repeated, then, with a twist of her mouth: “I've never flown before.”

“Me neither. There's nothing to worry about though. Flying is perfectly safe.”

“Exactly what are you basing this confidence on?”

“Nobody was ever killed flying through the air,” I answered. “It's falling you have to worry about. Specifically: hitting the ground.”

She smirked. “I should have guessed that was coming. Sweet dreams.”

With another strange and elegant motion, she stood up and offered me a gloved hand to help me to my feet.

*
The following morning we five assembled on the observation post on the top of Fortress City's keep – a rusted, paint-flecked structure that rattled in the wind. Lady Una clutched the railing with one hand, her hoop skirt billowing like a sail. She met my eye and smiled.

When Kirkham's men finished loading the balloon with supplies, they helped us into the basket one by one, and then untied the tether. For a lurching moment, the balloon dropped. And then it buoyed back up, floating on the wind.

Thurlow leaned over the edge, looking down at the charred ruins of no-man's land. “Well, that didn't take long.”

Below us, Prometheus began to extend its jointed legs. With patient deliberation, its inexpressive face turned upwards.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: Will our heroes survive the attentions of Prometheus? What horrors lurk beneath them in no-man's land? Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

2008-07-19T16:19:00.002+01:00

I really can't do anything on Saturdays. I should probably stop planning things for them. Anyway, tomorrow I will hopefully have an update for Gun Mute that fixes a few egregious bugs. I may possibly also be in the mood to drop a few hints about the shape of my next IF project...

Friday Quistis Blogging

2008-07-18T18:12:00.003+01:00

There is something about Quistis Trepe. I am not sure what it is.

Further Degeneration

2008-07-17T19:34:00.004+01:00

Just in case you thought I'd taken a break from being a Resident Evil fanboy, let me point out that the upcoming CG animated movie Resident Evil: Degeneration now has an offical US website. There's nothing much there at the moment except for the teaser trailer and a promise that more is to come in a week's time...

Another Tiny World, Arbitrarily

2008-07-16T23:11:00.003+01:00

Makemake, the second brightest Kuiper Belt Object after Pluto, has officially been categorized as a dwarf planet. As usual, I need to stress that this whole form of categorisation is completely artbitrary, not reflecting any kind of real attribute that these worlds possess or lack. I still think that Asimov came up with the only really valid categorisation for the worlds that orbit a star, dividing them up into gas giants (Jupiter, Saturn et al.) and 'debris' (everything else, including Earth).

But I do like the dwarf planet category, if only because it highlights worlds that might otherwise never make the spotlight. So: Makemake. It's bright. It's in the Kuiper Belt. At 1600 km across, we're confident that it's probably pretty round.

Not about to steal Best in Show from Ceres any time soon, methinks.

Hat tip: Planetary Society Blog

2008-07-14T19:51:00.003+01:00

I thought that I was eating more than usual lately, though now that I think about it, I'm not sure how I reached that conclusion. Anyway, I decided to step on the scales and see if I am approaching normality, and was surprised to see that I'd actually lost a couple of kilos. All things considered, I realise I'm actually eating about the same amount as ever, and I'm also getting a lot more exercise, so I guess that is why.

If you want me, I will be standing behind this hat stand. You may not notice me at first.

Robo-Brain

2008-07-13T19:24:00.002+01:00

So I opened up my old, broken computer and took the hard drive out. Not really sure what to do with it now, but there is some stuff on it that I'd like to save if I can.

The post-it warning might seem a bit paranoid until you see the huge magnet on the shelf where I normally put random things.

Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 4

2008-07-13T19:15:00.001+01:00

Previously: “Searching for the missing EON units, we found ourselves trapped in Fortress City, the way ahead guarded by a renegade Sky Spider machine...”

Part 4: The Delinquent Child

The walls of Fortress City weren't, as those who had never seen them often imagined, a single impenetrable barrier, but instead were layered like a half-disintegrated onion, inner barriers mounting up to the main walls, outer trenches and barricades devolving into tank traps and the lethal gaze of the city's big guns.

Halfway to no-man's land, buried beneath an avalanche of sandbags and topped with an unmanned machine-gun post, was a squat and eroded pillbox, its slit eyes peering out across the wasteland. Inside, feeling the oppressive weight of cold stone on all sides, I met Suzette for the first time in five years.

“Well,” she said, looking at me through a bristling multitude of lenses, “look which lizard decided to come crawling out of its hole.”

“Hello, Suzette,” I answered flatly, “I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you again. I brought a friend. We need you to tell us about Prometheus.”

Suzette somehow succeeded in peering over her goggles. “An EON unit, presumably the fourth one, the one that came back empty handed.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” EON-4 said.

“That's a philosophical proposition in itself,” Suzette responded. “Are you really pleased to see me – or just programmed to say that you are?”

EON-4's eye swivelled and refocused on her. “It seems you have better reason to believe I am pleased to meet you than I have to believe the same of you.”

With a clattering of cogs, the cradle from which Suzette dangled repositioned her closer to the narrow windows, her feet dangling a few centimetres above the floor. “A tin can with a sense of humour,” she mused. “What wonderful toys you bring for me, Gleve.”

She leaned forward to peer through a pair of binoculars mounted on the lip of the window, and grasped a brass speaking tube with emaciated fingers. “Position unchanged,” she said. “Declination thirty degrees, range four hundred metres.”

She looked over her shoulder at me. “You might care to cover your ears.”

I did so, just in time to have my bones thoroughly shaken up by the thunderous report of the city guns.

Suzette, unrattled, looked back through the binoculars. “Visual contact lost,” she told the speaking tube. “Target presumed destroyed.”

With a further clattering, Suzette's cradle crawled along its track on the ceiling, carrying her on a veering path towards an untidy desk of maps and telegrams. Curiosity overcame me and I stepped into her place to look through the binoculars.

“How are the other members of the Select Committee?” Suzette asked nonchalantly. “Did any of the others ever turn up, or are you still the only survivor?”

All I could see was a cluster of smoking craters in the churned-up mud. My eye picked out movement among the haze of dust and debris thrown up by the barrage, and my imagination shaped that movement into strange and horrific forms. “We need to learn about Prometheus,” I said. “We're part of a group hoping to get to the Twisted Forests by the most direct route possible.”

Suzette snorted. “The most direct route would be to load you into a shell and blast you across.”

I stood up and walked over to stand by her side at the table of maps. “A novel idea, unfortunately requiring more development time than we have to spare.”

“Only if you want to survive the journey,” Suzette said. She laid a finger on one of the maps, right next to a small plastic toy crab. “Prometheus. Our over-enthusiastic little guard dog. If the Sky Spiders can't get past it, you sure as hell won't.”

“How did you gain control of it in the first place?”

“We didn't. We still haven't. We raised it from the larval form we stole from the Sky Spiders during the battle for Unity City. A huge stroke of luck, some call it. I just call it the best thing that we were able to achieve with a million deaths. We raised it, so it respects us, in some alien fashion. But that doesn't mean that it likes us, or that it'll stop short of hurting us.”

I looked down at the map, trying to interpret the spaghetti of trenches and contour lines. “We need to distract it,” I said. “Lure it to the other side of the scorched earth.”

“How?” Suzette asked. “Don't think we haven't tried before. It only responds to genuine threats, and then it responds with lethal force.”

“What kind of lethal force?”

Suzette shrugged, the cradle rocking with the motion. “We're not entirely sure. Things that it takes an especial dislike to seem to... implode.”

“Interesting.”

EON-4 stepped forward. “What about aerial targets?”

Suzette looked puzzled. “Huh?”

“Prometheus destroys anything that enters the scorched earth, but do things in the air qualify as having entered it?”

Suzette frowned. “No idea.”

“Isn't there a hot-air balloon at the top of the fortress?” I asked.

“Yes, and it goes straight up and comes straight back down. It's tethered. We've only got the one, and we need it for spotting distant artillery targets.”

“We'd only need to borrow it. You can get it back as soon as the wind changes.”

Suzette was evidently far from impressed. “We still have no reason to believe that Prometheus won't pop you in mid-air, assuming the wind even carries you far enough in the right direction.”

“Experiment,” I said. “Experiment and observation. We don't know at the moment, but we will very shortly, I promise you.”

She smirked. “Kirkham will never agree to it.”

EON-4 spoke up again. “Perhaps I can help there. John Kirkham has requested to dine with me this evening. To discuss philosophy, I believe – that is my primary function, after all. Perhaps I can persuade him to relinquish the balloon to us, in the hopes that we will be able to return it.”

“Perhaps you can.” Suzette removed her goggles and looked me in the eye. “Well, I can only wish you the best of luck on your insane suicide mission, Gleve. At least this time my husband won't be going with you.”

“Thank you Suzette,” I said, earnestly. “I can only...”

I couldn't find the words. I just mumbled a goodbye and left.

Outside, EON-4 looked across the ruined landscape at the distant silhouette of Prometheus. “I feel quite confident that things are progressing well,” he said.

“Really?” I answered, starting to head back into the city. “I don't.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: Will our heroes make it to the Twisted Forests? Will Prometheus mind them passing over its head? What happens when a hot-air balloon implodes anyway? Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

Friday Racing Driver Blogging

2008-07-11T21:47:00.000+01:00

Credit: paulwoolrich
Some rights reserved

Lewis Hamilton, recent winner of the British Grand Prix, to much rejoicing.

Quite Incurable

2008-07-09T00:46:00.002+01:00

Not that I don't have anything better to do right now (for example: sleeping, it's almost 1am), but I've uploaded a new version of Poizoned Mind that runs under Windows Vista without Aero switching off. Note that the URL to the old version (hosted on Willhostforfood) still works - and still points to the old version.

I may release a similar fix for Space Shot during my next bout of insomnia.

One thing I keep toying with is the idea of releasing a "Gold Edition" for Poizoned Mind, with the option to turn on proper line wrapping. But then I always feel a chill breeze, and an electric blue George Lucas materialises over my shoulder, giving me an encouraging nod, and suddenly I feel like maybe I should leave things as they are.

Spot the Difference

2008-07-08T18:58:00.006+01:00

Saturn, Late 2004

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

Saturn, 2007.

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

Saturn, 2008.

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

And because I've gone on about Saturn's not being blue about as much as I can (it is not blue anymore, end of information), read this news item on Cassini entering the second phase of its mission, and this nice little summary of its mission so far.

(Also, as Saturn approaches equinox, the shadows cast by the rings are getting much thinner.)

Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 3

2008-07-06T22:05:00.002+01:00

Previously: Five of us were chosen by the viscount to find the missing EON units and uncover the secrets of the Sky Spiders. Heading towards the nearest EON, we reached the outskirts of Fortress City.

Part 3: Fortress City

Fortress City was a sprawling imbroglio of noise and activity. A million people were crammed into crooked, soot-blackened houses, trying frantically to convince themselves that human civilisation continued as normal. Then again, perhaps for them, in those brief few years, it actually did.

Moving inland from Circhester, we actually couldn't see the main fortifications that protected the city – just the encircling wall of ancient stone and a few token watch towers guarding against a hypothetical threat from the coast. It seemed like any other city you might find in the world: trees and fields giving way to buildings and cobbled roads dotted with wrought iron gas lamps. The exception, of course, was that in this city, people thronged the streets, hurrying about their business, loitering happily, hawking their scavenged wares.

We moved into the city on foot, some of the viscount's men struggling to follow us through the crowds with our belongings strapped securely to a horse-drawn cart. Lady Una glided ahead of us, her hoop skirt moving smoothly over the cobblestones as if her feet didn't even touch the ground, and I found myself walking alongside Sigrid Phenice, the gruff soldier. She stomped along with one hand on the strap of the rifle slung over her shoulder, head down, showing little interest in small-talk. Which suited me fine. The last five years had done strange things to my humour.

Ahead of us, the central keep rose out of the city, town houses clinging to it like barnacles. An ancient castle, now hybridised with the great steel machinery of modern artillery – fat factory chimneys, enormous loading cogs, and the long barrels of obscenely huge cannon. At the highest point, a railed observation platform jutted out from the ramparts, tethered to the colourful bubble of a hot air balloon.

“Quite a sight, isn't it?” Thurlow called out from behind. “Gives new meaning to the phrase 'human scale'. Affirming to one's sense of significance, don't you think?”

I glanced at Sigrid and met her eye.

She declined to answer the Major's remark; as did I.

At that moment, several of the fortress guns opened up, a series of thunderous reports that sounded deep in your bones before it reached your ears. The clouded sky flashed bright white. And the people of Fortress City continued to bustle around us, unconcerned. Certainly, the guns didn't fire again that time, and whatever they were shooting at must, at the very least, have decided to hastily reconsider its course of action.

I glanced about me at the other travellers. They hid it well, but I could see that, like me, they were starting to mull over the thought of moving past those guns and towards what they aimed at. Well, each of the travellers but EON-4, its featureless head bobbing mechanically as it walked.

*
John Kirkham said there was no way across the zone of scorched earth dividing Fortress City from the rest of the continent. And he took us out on his balcony to show us why.

I'd heard the name John Kirkham enough times, but never met him. His house was pressed up right against the inside of the front wall of the fortress keep. A huge circular door was set in the wall of his sitting room, like the entrance to the innermost vault of the world's most paranoid bank. On the other side was Kirkham's balcony, an elegant affair with a small circular table in one corner.

“I like to take my afternoon tea here,” he told us, “and meditate on the state of the world from above.”

I looked out at the world as John Kirkham saw it. It was a barren expanse of churned-up mud, divided up by trenches and craters, and dotted here and there with the splintered wooden forms of tank traps and dead trees.

“Yes,” Thurlow said. “I can see the appeal.”

Lady Una stepped forward, placing a gloved hand on the balcony's ornate railing. “It certainly won't be easy to cross,” she said. “But hardly impossible.”

There was no way to tell what expression Kirkham really had, behind that immobile mask of gold, but somehow I got the impression he was smiling. “You think that because you haven't seen it yet.”

“Seen what yet?” Lady Una asked, a little curtly.

Kirham raised a hand to point across the wasteland. “Prometheus.”

It was something that I'd assumed was a part of the landscape, a low and midnight black mound like an outcrop of rock or a burnt-out building. But actually looking at it, it was unlike anything Earthly. Its complete blackness had a kind of vibrant sheen, something that's difficult to explain unless you've seen something like it before. Which, of course, we all had. Except...

“It's a Sky Spider machine,” Thurlow hissed, stepping back warily towards the door.

Kirkham clasped his hands together. “Actually, it's our Sky Spider machine.”

“That face,” I said. “That human face, like a statue.”

The others stepped up to the railing to look. Overall, the thing looked like a curled up crab or closed fist, fat appendages bunched up beneath it. But what perhaps had lead to us overlooking it as some hill or ruin was the way it was topped with a human head and shoulders, completely immobile and inexpressive. A human head and shoulders, I now realised, with the same serenely beautiful features as Kirkham's mask.

“I'm impressed,” I said, speaking under my breath. “Very impressed.”

Kirkham touched a finger to his golden lips. “I wouldn't be too eager with your praise, doctor. Prometheus is a blunt weapon. Effective, but destructive and unrefined. It destroys anything that enters the scorched ground. In this way it keeps the city safe from incursion - and also prevents us from moving inland. I'm sure that you all arrived on this side of the scorched ground by sea, and that's how I recommend you cross to the other side.”

“That's not an option,” Lady Una stated flatly. “It would increase the length of our journey across open country tenfold, and take us right past Unity City. We'd stand a much better chance of passing Prometheus, especially since it is, apparently, a known quantity.”

Kirkham spread his hands, palms upward. “Not quite as known as we'd like, otherwise we'd stop it from attacking us too.”

Lady Una didn't seem to enjoy Kirkham's sense of humour. She looked from his golden mask towards me. “See that Dr Gleve is given every relevant piece of information regarding Prometheus,” she instructed Kirkham. “We'll be crossing the scorched ground as soon as we can. We need to know anything that might distract or allay this creature – or machine, whatever it is.”

With that she glided back through the vault door, the others following close behind her. Thurlow paused to slap me hard on the back, laughing to himself.

“Doctor,” Kirkham said, turning his golden face to me, “I'm hardly capable of giving you such technical details myself, so I'll refer you to Suzette. Professor Suzette Layling – I believe you must know her from the Imperial Society?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my expression neutral. “I know her.”

This was just getting better and better. Even if the Sky Spider war machine wasn't going to murder me, Suzette certainly would.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: What is Prometheus? Does it have a weakness? And what's the deal between Peregrine and Suzette? Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

Last three books I read...

2008-07-05T16:03:00.008+01:00

Ubik, Philip K. Dick

After reading A Scanner Darkly, I read quite a few other books by PKD, but none gave me quite the same sense of 'wow'. Until Ubik, that is. This book freaked me out, moved me to tears and made me laugh. (It also features a minor character called Edie Dorn who I fell for hopelessly.)

The Prefect, Alistair Reynolds

Not one of Reynolds' best books, but it's interesting to explore an earlier and more civilised (by some standards) period of his future history, even if it means the gorgeously baroque and gothic elements of many of his works are toned down somewhat.

What Was Lost, Catherine O'Flynn

A story divided between tales of childhood loneliness and adult disaffection, tempered with good humour and strong characterisation. It works better in its slice-of-life character-driven moments, but the plot threads come together nicely in the end.

Metropolis Un-Amputated

2008-07-03T19:07:00.003+01:00

So it turns out a museum in Buenos Aires has been in possession of a complete copy of the visually entrancing Metropolis the whole time - including the quarter of the film chopped out and believed lost forever when it was dumbed-down for American audiences. Read the full story at Zeit Online.

Hat tip: Twitch

Reviews +2

2008-07-02T21:39:00.001+01:00

I've added another couple of reviews to the Interactive Fiction Database, this time of Vespers and Downtown Tokyo, Present Day (pictured above).

Birthday Boy

2008-06-30T21:43:00.004+01:00

Look who's twelve!

(He was 12 weeks in this photo.)

Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 2

2008-06-29T16:37:00.003+01:00

Previously: Five strangers were summoned to the bedside of the ailing viscount: a dashing officer, a straightforward markswoman, a humanoid philosophy engine, the viscount’s mysterious and tightly-laced niece, and me: a scientist of the Imperial Society. There we learned of the four missing EON units: thinking machines that might hold the secrets of the Sky Spiders. After five years of silence, one had made contact, claiming that the others were still functioning as well. Any attempt to reach them, however, would be fraught with danger...

Part 2: Caged Birds

A slender silhouette against the white light of morning, Major Thurlow slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. “Anything that might turn the tide against the crawlies,” he said, his mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “This is the perfect time for desperate gambits.”

I nodded. “We lose because we fight creatures millions of years in advance of us. Any chance to play catch-up is a chance worth taking.”

EON-4’s small glass eye flicked from me to the viscount. “Naturally, I wish to learn the fate of the other EON units. Perhaps even to fulfil my own purpose.”

We all turned to Sigrid. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her cuff. “Yeah, okay, count me in.”

The viscount’s head protruded from the thick sheets of the four poster bed. The conversation was underpinned by the wheezing and whirring of his life support machinery - anonymous chemical cylinders and inelegant pumps. Slowly, his bald, wrinkled head was deformed by a spreading smile. He grinned broadly, his eyes acquiring a glassy sheen.

Close by his side, Lady Una touched a gloved hand to the viscount’s forehead. “My uncle needs to rest now,” she stated. “If you gather your belongings and wait in the courtyard, we should begin without any further delay.”

Sigrid met the lady’s eye warily. “Where exactly are we going?”

I cleared my throat. “EON-5 was despatched to a location in the Twisted Forests. That’s closer than any of the others.”

Thurlow gave me a surprised look. “You seem to know a fair bit about this yourself.”

I said nothing in reply.

Lady Una stepped away from her uncle. “Detailed plans have been prepared. Copies of endless scenarios and debates from the Academy and the Imperial Society exist in this estate’s libraries. Almost all of them are hopelessly out of date, even after such a short amount of time, but...” She lowered her head. “You should consider me to be perfectly versed in all of the necessary details. And as the doctor said, the EON unit in the Greyham Forest - now the ‘Twisted Forests’ - is the closest, and arguably the easiest to reach.”

Thurlow laughed - a dry sound that expressed little in the way of actual humour. “Relatively speaking. I had the pleasure of passing through those forests on my way north a few years ago. Even then, well...” He laughed again in the same manner.

Lady Una stepped in between the Major and me, heading for the door. She stood by it, looking back at us pointedly. “My uncle needs to rest,” she repeated. “And I have business to attend to.”

One by one, we filed out of the viscount’s room. Behind us, the machinery that kept him alive whirred and gurgled.

*
Like the others, I’d arrived late the night before and been given one of the guest rooms to sleep in. My belongings sat in a neat little pile in the corner. Not that I had much with me: a satchel with a couple of changes of clothes, a case containing what few of my instruments had survived the past few years, and a leather holster containing a revolver and a dozen or so rounds of ammunition. I took off my jacket to slip on the holster, threw the satchel over my shoulder, took hold of my case, and walked out of the room and down the stairs.

Things were so quiet, outside in the countryside of Circhester, that it was unreal to me. Wind rustling through leaves, birds chirping - and in the distance, like a half-heard whisper, the soft sound of the sea. If the gates to the viscount’s estate weren’t being watched by a man sitting cross-legged at the tripod of a Gatling gun, I could almost have convinced myself that none of the events of the past half a decade had occurred.

I found Lady Una by accident, around the side of the mansion. She stood by stacks of wooden cages, opening them one by one.

I was just turning to leave her alone when she said, without looking at me, “Curiosity is the foremost virtue of a man or woman of science, don’t you think, doctor?”

I was caught completely on the wrong foot. “I’m sorry?”

She turned to look at me over her shoulder, her reserved features forming the barest hint of a smile. “You came to see what I was doing.”

I shrugged. “I could see birds flying away from here. I was...”

“Curious.”

“Exactly.”

She stepped to the next cage, grasped the latch carefully between a gloved thumb and forefinger, and opened it. After a few seconds, a small black bird leapt out, flapping intermittently, climbing slowly up into the white overcast sky.

“These are your birds, I presume?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered, opening the next cage. This bird seemed more reluctant to fly the coop, and she shooed it out with a wave of her hand. “Actually, no, not any more. I’m letting them all go. It would be cruel to leave them caged when I can’t be sure that I’ll ever be back. I let them out once a day anyway, but this time they’ll have to fend for themselves.”

“Perhaps some of them will still be around when you come back,” I suggested.

She smiled. “Birds have short memories. And they’ll have to have learned to live from the land by then anyway. That, or die. They’ll belong to themselves, one way or another.”

A small bird, emerald blue, descended suddenly from above and settled on Una’s shoulder. She laughed, almost startling me with the sound. “This one’s lovely, isn’t she?” she said, softly, looking at the bird as it looked back at her, turning its head from side to side to use each eye in turn. “I expect she’ll be one of the first to die.”

“The light that burns twice as bright...” I began.

Una smiled, sadly. “But isn’t she stupid really? Too trusting?”

I shook my head. “She’s just curious.”

The bird turned to look at me, as if noticing me for the first time.

“The little bird scientist,” Una said. “Trying to understand the creature that cages her.”

“Like us and the Sky Spiders.”

With that Una’s smile faded. “Yes. Yes, I often think so myself. Sometimes I try to imagine how well my birds understand the idea of a cage, of the food dispensers - the idea of me, even. And I’m left thinking that they probably only have the vaguest grasp of the concepts. I don’t imagine it improving much, either.”

“I’m sure you’d be surprised. A lot of birds can be very intelligent, as I understand it. Some of them might well be able to get it, to an extent.”

Lady Una opened the last cage and then raised a hand to her shoulder, shooing the curious bird scientist away. “I suspect the Sky Spiders have similar conversations about us,” she said, solemnly. “Only more in the manner of the owners of a factory farm of chickens. On which note, I think we should find the others and get moving. I intend for us to be in Fortress City within a day and a half - right at the bars of the cage.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: Our five adventurers arrive in Fortress City and find that the place is far from as safe as its name might imply... Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

Friday Muse Blogging

2008-06-27T21:11:00.003+01:00

Urania (left), muse of astronomy and Calliope (right) muse of epic and heroic poetry. I figure I need both of them on my side if I'm going to finish Sky Spiders...

2008-06-26T20:51:00.002+01:00

The Procedural Generation Competition is over - Space Shot placed joint 19th, out of 60 entrants - very respectable given how slight a game it is. In the end, I didn't vote, as dealing with the fallout of my recent computer switch took a huge chunk out of my free time, but I'm looking forward to playing through the rest of the entries.

Find all the PCG games here.

"Some of my best friends are Warner Brothers"

2008-06-25T20:55:00.001+01:00

What happened when Groucho Marx got a cease and desist letter from Warner Brothers? Find out here.

A Wild Sheep Chase: In Search Of Haruki Murakami

2008-06-24T11:45:00.000+01:00

Alan Yentob explores the mysterious, offbeat, sexually charged world of Japan's most popular and internationally acclaimed writer.

Haruki Murakami is incomparable, a literary novelist tipped for the Nobel Prize, who writes cool, witty, and often surreal bestsellers. Notoriously enigmatic and media-shy Murakami has always shunned radio and television. However, he agreed to a rare and frank off-camera interview with the producer for this programme.

In this impressionistic film, Alan Yentob travels in Japan through the strange, labyrinthine landscape of Murakami's fiction on a jazz-fuelled 'wild sheep chase' of a journey. In Tokyo and Kobe he delves into the social and political background of Murakami's work and encounters his fans, critics, translators and a talking cat.

A Wild Sheep Chase: In Search Of Haruki Murakami, BBC One, 24th June 2008, 10.45pm.

So, I guess you just missed that then.

I wish I could write like Murakami. The ability to charge aimless everyday scenes with profoundly moving and imaginative surreality seems so appealing to me. If I could do that, I might need less robots and cowboys. Except, I like robots and cowboys.

It is too late for my confused and diluted sentiments to find coherence, but you should know that whatever those sentiments are, they're, well, very much whatever they are.