Opening (Sci fi)

Any closet novelists, short story writers, script-writers or prose poets out there?
Post Reply
Roofbeam_Carpenter
Posts: 6
Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2009 9:12 am
antispam: no

Fri Oct 16, 2009 10:14 am

Hi guys. I used to post here ages ago under a different name but lost my log in. It you wouldn't mind having a look at this and letting me know what you think. I'm hoping it may be the beginning to a novel I have an idea for. But who knows. Probably needs some work. I'll do some reviews later on too! Thanks!

********************************************************************************************************************************************

Blood red it shone through the Mountains. Blood red and deadly it bore down on the dozen men, made insignificant by the colossal landscape that enveloped them. Vast plains of desert surrounded the miners swallowing the echo of the rhythmic rise and fall of axes. Their bodies flexed and fought against the heat. In just a few hours it would be hot enough to inflict third degree burns, despite the foil body suits. Even during the winter cycle on the plains of Aroon the heat at midday was so strong it could burn those those flimsy foil suits right off the backs of the men. The sun forced its power on all.

“Move it Artio, this shipment needs to get to the Dynasty tonight!” the Chief growled.

Artio sighed heavily and heaved the axe high above his head into the hot, thick air. The blade glinted blindingly against the low sweltering sun. He defiantly swung the axe down to meet the black rocks below with a crash. The miners were completely encased by their suits, from head to toe, only tired eyes showed through the tinted visors. Artio paused to fix those tired eyes at the Chief before continuing. He was not happy. The demands from the Dynasty for Sula rocks meant the men working dangerously close to midday.

Each body suit contained a pack filled with water and a long straw the men could constantly drink through. To keep the water cool the Chief of the team carried a container full of pressurised dry ice to spray at the pack every 15 minutes. Artio sucked on his water and thought about the last time he had visited his wife and child. After the birth of their daughter his wife had strictly forbidden Artio to take any more risks. Not even the substantial amount of money earned while away mining could appease her. As she had treated his sunburn she murmured softly her desires of him moving back to her in the greenhouses, getting a safe job and working in an office somewhere, away from the heat and the threat of meteors. Her fingers worked through the grooves of his back, untying knotted muscles and soothing painful sores. He closed his eyes and imagined those hands now, those safe, warm hands taking care of him. He remembered the tears on his daughter's face as he kissed her goodbye. He remembered his own tears as he turned away to stop her from seeing them.

Artio wasn't stupid, he knew the risks he was taking. He understood what he was doing here, but he did not like the way the Chief would bow down to every wish and command of the Dynasty. Brown nose, he thought sardonically. And flashed his petulant eyes at the Chief again. The Chief met his gaze and held it. He was not backing down, the men would take his orders and get on with it.

“Come on!” he barked. “We ain't finishing til we fill that plane. Unless you fancy getting your asses sozzled, I suggest you get them in gear.”

Artio looked down biting hard on his water pipe. So hard it almost split. Every day got closer to Aroon's summer, and every day increased the risk of a meteor attack. His axe slammed into the rock. Slicing off another substantial chunk to be collected and carried off to the cool Sula room where an aircraft would be preparing the flight back to the Greenhouses. Another million earned for the already rich Dynasty. Bastards, he thought, the whole system stank And what the hell was this guys problem? Bullied as a child, grew up in the South East with the other low-life losers? Artio let a small smirk twist his lips as he thought of The Chief getting his face smashed in by bully boys.

The swing of the axes were like a deadly lullaby. Every muscle ached in his body, they screamed out to stop. Artio blocked this out by letting his thoughts drift back to his family, the words from his wife had been echoing around his head since he'd come back to Aroon. Perhaps he should move back to the Greenhouses? Each time he went home his daughter had got even closer to becoming a woman. Each time she had grown, her hair was more blonde, her mouth more defined and he missed it all. If only he could settle. Live safely. He stared into the distance at the huge scarlet sun appearing from behind the tall black mountains. The red bounced and reflected from the jagged black Sula rocks, turning everything in sight into rubies. Freedom, he thought, to be caged in a greenhouse, to be tied to an office chair. He lifted his axe high into the air. The blade was blood red. As it crashed down onto the Sula rocks below the blade turned black.
Ros
Moderator
Moderator
Posts: 7963
Joined: Sun Dec 07, 2008 4:53 pm
antispam: no
Location: this hill-shadowed city/of razors and knives.
Contact:

Fri Oct 16, 2009 2:38 pm

Hi Roofbeam! Welcome back. Have you written much of the rest of this? I think with stories you have to get a lot down and then see how the editing goes. This feels as if you're writing yourself into the mood and story, which is necessary, but it's probably a bit heavy on the exposition to grab the reader straight off. But that's easily fixed later. Need more plot to comment, really.

Also, beware of over-adjectiving and qualifying verbs when stronger verbs would do the job better:

sighed heavily , hot, thick , glinted blindingly . low sweltering . - just from one line.

Good sense of atmosphere and character coming through, though.

Ros
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
___________________________
Antiphon - www.antiphon.org.uk
David
Moderator
Moderator
Posts: 13973
Joined: Sat Feb 18, 2006 4:40 pm
Location: Ellan Vannin

Tue Oct 20, 2009 5:39 pm

Here's a thought - I always suspect fiction where the speakers growl, bark or tweet. I think there must be a better way of handling dialogue.

It's quite a gripping opening, though.

Cheers

David
Roofbeam_Carpenter
Posts: 6
Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2009 9:12 am
antispam: no

Mon Oct 26, 2009 10:01 pm

Ha! I suppose there is. Will have a re-think. Growl was the first thing that popped into my head. I think it would work with no descriptive at all really, the words already indicate the tone.

Thanks Ros, I have written some other patches but I'm still loosely forming the plot in my head. I do know that it will flit between the miners and the Dynasty. The main character is not Artio but a Princess. I've chosen this as a beginning to set the mood and introduce the planet to the reader. Will post some more if you're interested?
Post Reply