Category Archives: Astro Tramp 400
Able
He awoke in darkness. No – not darkness. Light. A clinical white light that was as enveloping as darkness, a light that somehow made his pupils dilate instead of forcing him to squint. A faint, warm smell filled his nostrils. … Continue reading
May is here! Where’s my next book?
It’s coming, it’s coming! Last time we checked in, a month ago, I’d just finished chapters I to VI of The Shortcut, although the name is still under consideration. The Long Way Home appeals to me as a name too, as … Continue reading
Another weird self-promotion
It would be remiss of me not to mention that this also happened a week or two ago (I am honestly losing track of time and the massive alcoholic bender and pile of merciless-peppers-of-Quetzalacatenango-level hot wings did not help): Surprise! … Continue reading
What’s new, end of March edition
Hey there Hatstanders. What’s up? We don’t talk anymore. I mean, except when we do. Just not on the blog, so it’s getting a bit ghost-towny. Here’s a quick catch-up on this Thursday afternoon. I’m still reading, although round two … Continue reading
A Railgun Brain, Part XVIII
He became aware, weirdly, of having eyes and eyelids before he was aware that he was once again seeing things in the usual way. He lay and looked at the clean metal ceiling of C. Sentinax’s medical bay for several … Continue reading
A Railgun Brain, Part XVII
He floated in the dark, in the churning infinity of pain, until it occurred to him that we will send someone to talk with you might not mean what he thought it meant. It might not even have been directed … Continue reading
A Railgun Brain, Part XVI
The pain didn’t flash and fade, didn’t give way to the numb juddering of a body in shock, didn’t wink into the nothingness of a body deceased. It went on, a roaring bonfire through his every boiling fragment, rising beyond … Continue reading
A Railgun Brain, Part XV
He slept, but not well. When he woke, and stepped out of the slightly preservative-scented guest quarters, the Colossus was heavily silent around him. “Um, good morning, C. Sentinax?” he called. “Good morning, MagaXidh Ende,” C. Sentinax’s voice came from … Continue reading
A Railgun Brain, Part XIV
They ate again, Viator apologising for his lack of familiarity with human patterns of digestion and rest. Once upon a time, he claimed – again without confirming anything specifically – he’d been quite well-versed in primate upkeep. But the skills … Continue reading
A Railgun Brain, Part XIII
“The Repositorium led me to it,” Viator said, “or at least revealed where it had been placed as part of a relic storage effort. Basically a mothballed lab that had run the full gauntlet of shady-fuck ownership. I’m talking the … Continue reading
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