This year, I participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) for the first time! It’s this crazy online community / collective delusion centered around writing a novel — 50,000 words to be exact — within the 30 days of November.
I gave it a good go! Ultimately I ended with about 10,000 words, which though it’s only a fifth of the goal I’m still thrilled with.
The (part of a) book is called The Polity. It’s a space opera with heavy political themes — I’ll admit this genre decision made it way harder to finish on time, but it was the book I wanted to write, so what can I do. It currently stands at four and a half chapters. I’ll release these as a web periodical since it sounds fun and also it spreads out the editing I’ll have to do.
I want to preemptively lower your expectations: the book is rough. This is my first time ever writing fiction, and it shows. That being said, I think my writing gets noticeably better as the chapters go on, so that’s pretty cool to see.
Anyways, here’s chapter one. Hope you don’t hate it!
Author’s note: if you’re wondering why the characters don’t talk in this chapter it’s because I was terrified of writing dialog when I started on the book. Don’t worry, I get over it in Chapter 2.
Dex sat, idly latching and unlatching his safety harness. He went over the plan in his head for a fourth time. Then a fifth, and a sixth for good measure. Did it really take this long to get a transport into the air?
Truth be told, Dex had never even been orbital. He’d spent his entire 23-year life on Aldenstadt. Not that there was anything wrong with that — spending one’s life grounded in community was one of the great Aldan virtues, in stark contrast to the planet-hopping rootless Politans.
It’s not like he could’ve left anyways, even if he wanted to. The free movement of peoples so often touted by Polity propagandists were conspicuously absent on Aldenstadt. Only those with explicit permission from Aldenstadt’s military governor were allowed to come or go from the planet’s surface. Of course, these days it was getting easier and easier to secure a writ of travel — somehow the Society had managed to get every member of Dex’s team a proper set of documents. As far as Dex could tell they weren’t even forged.
Mercifully, the transport began to tilt backwards. Dex had heard descriptions of a transport taking off many times. And through his feigned aloofness, yes, secretly he’d always wanted to do this. Dex tried to settle into his chair. As the cabin finished rotating, now fully perpendicular, a faint hum began from the back of the craft. His pulse raced as the hum grew to a deafening roar, and 15 msecs gave way to 20, gave way to 30. A giant’s foot on his chest. They were off.
After a while, the oppressive weight dwindled back to 15 msecs and then kept going. Weightlessness. Someone to his right reached for a barf bag and, unfortunately, began filling it. Dex managed to keep his breakfast down. Thank god for anti-nausials.
Giddiness and nervousness swirled in his stomach. Dex looked over at his team. Five other men, none of them over thirty. He knew their names but not much more. That was intentional – the Society made sure to separate friends onto different teams, and strongly discouraged the sharing of personal life with peers. One of the faces did look familiar – maybe Dex had gone to primary with him – but it was hard to say.
The man sitting next to Dex, Erik, tilted his head.
“I can’t wait to see Aldenstadt Station,” Erik said “it’s a Cosmos class – one of only three currently operating. Latest Intelligence too, apparently the thing basically runs itself.”
So generous of the Polity to gold-plate the boot they put on our necks, Dex wanted to say. He looked up at the corners of the cabin. One, two, three cameras; he kept the quips to himself. He wondered if Erik was playing for the cameras or genuinely nerding out on spaceports. The idea of a Society operative admiring the tools of oppression was sickening, but you never really knew.
Dex wondered how many of his team had also never experienced weightlessness – quite likely most or all of them. It was hard to tell through the painted-on stony expressions they all wore. This was the most important day of their lives, and there was no time to enjoy the trip.
He looked up through the ceiling – steely-gray at the start of their trip but now completely transparent. The effect was eerie, the illusion too good such that the cabin felt like a box with its top open to the void of space. Aldenstadt stretched on above them, filling nearly his entire field of vision. Endless chains of islands amid vast expanses of azure blue water. Generations of Aldans had transformed this planet from a barren rock into the lush paradise before them. Brilliant in the morning sunlight (well, maybe not “morning”), the view gave him a swell of pride. This is what he was meant to be doing. Defending his homeland was worth any price.
Aldenstadt Station came into view. In spite of himself, Dex had to admit it was a sight to behold. Spinning lazily over (though from this perspective it felt like beneath) the planet, the station constituted one big ring. The inner rim of the ring was vibrant green – after a start he realized not paint but actual grass and trees. Of course. The Politans loved their stations so much they’d begun to recreate the trappings of planetary life in space. Apparently many Politan children were raised in stations like this one, some of them never going planetside their entire lives.
The transport navigated to the outside edge of the ring. What had originally looked like an easygoing spin seemed much brisker up close. Dex had assumed that the transport would dock in an unspinning center of the station, where they would transfer to the ring and experience gravity. But there was no such unspinning center, and it looked as though docking did indeed occur on the outer rim. A burst from the engines accelerated the shuttle in the same direction the station was spinning, on an intersection course. The view looking out through the ceiling was now dominated by the ring, which was now rapidly approaching. As they neared, a pair of arms shot out and grasped the transport. Gravity returned. They were now beneath the very bottom floor of the station, inky blackness beneath them.
A lift brought them onto the station. The entire screening process was automated, under the watchful gaze of yet more cameras. If anybody caused any trouble, the entire chamber would fill with a gas that would render everyone unconscious. Dex let out a sigh of relief as he cleared the full body scanner. Not that any of them had been stupid enough to bring weapons on their person, but still. Who knew what Polity tech was capable of.
And then he was through. Was that it? Dex walked into the station.
Compared to the shuttle, the station interior was capacious. He was in a large atrium, fully a dozen stories high, the top actually open to the ecolayer on the inner rim of the ring. Far in the distance, the other side of the ring was visible as a slender streak across the sky. Admittedly, Altheim had nothing like this before The Polity came.
The atrium was buzzing with activity. Today was a historic day. Twenty years after the beginning of the occupation, The Polity was holding its first elections in Altheim. About the atrium, supporters of a dizzying array of parties delivered speeches and gladhanded through the crowd. In the center, a set of steps led to the upraised civic plaza, where citizens could cast their votes.
Near the steps, an agitated crowd was gathering. Even from far away, Dex could tell from their stocky builds that they were his countrymen. Right on time. Waving signs and chanting, they denounced the election as a sham.
The mob was organized by another one of the Society’s teams of course. Stretch station to the security forces to the brink, then deliver the final blow. The mob began to surround the civic plaza, repelling anyone who attempted to vote with improvised weapons. Near Dex, station security was already forming up, readying riot shields. Likely they had advance notice – all the better, he thought, let them think this is the plot they have to stop.
Dex did another scan of the room and saw his team gathering at a hallway on the far end of the atrium. In the commotion, nobody paid them any mind as he hurried over. They headed off wordlessly into the hallway.
It was hard for him to avoid bounding across the floor like a skipping child. Polity standard gravity was a paltry 5 msecs, only a third of what Dex had grown up with. Supposedly it was easier on the human body. Conversely, most Politans struggled with planetary gravity, at least on larger planets like Aldenstadt. As a result, most of the Politan administrative class lived in space, relying on those less fortunate The Polity’s will planetside.
Eventually they turned down a side corridor, and reached a maintenance hatch. Erik looked around furtively – as though they weren’t already busted if someone saw them now – and made a couple quick taps on a keypad next to the hatch. It popped open with a slight hiss. Dex was the last in, and closed the latch behind him.
The maintenance room was filled with a motley array of equipment, but reasonably well organized. Tucked in a corner they found what they were after: the weapons cache. How the Society had gotten it here, under the watchful gaze of the Station’s Intelligence, was anyone’s guess. In a crate they found six earpieces and six handguns. Dex actually had never used a handgun before – it was too risky to acquire and distribute them just for training. But these days they practically aimed themselves, so what did it matter? At least he hoped so.
“Alright, no time for speeches,” Erik said (while literally making a speech, Dex noted) “this is likely the most meaningful thing you’ll ever spend your life doing. Don’t fuck it up.” Fair enough.
Single-file, they set off down a maintenance corridor. Erik led the way, taking instructions from an Intelligence audible only to him at intersections. The thought made Dex uncomfortable, but there was a certain poetic justice to using the tools of the oppressor to defeat them. So long as everyone was clear this was a means to an end.
Ten minutes later, Erik motioned for everyone to stop.
“Ok, here goes.” He whispered. “Beneath us is where they house the Intelligence. They have no idea we’re coming. We’ll be in and out in 5 minutes. Mark, on my count, bust this floor hatch open. Eldrin, be ready to cover me.”
As everyone got into position, Erik readed an explosive charge. With his free hand he motioned one, two three and the hatch slammed open.
And in that moment, chaos broke out.
The noise was piercing, deafening. By far the loudest sound Dex had ever heard, metal grinding against metal, reverberated through his body. The entire station shuddered, then shook violently. He was thrown off his feet, head striking the nearby wall. Erik, charge in hand, plunged through the hatch. Screams sounded from below, though from the shaking or from the man falling from the ceiling was anyone’s guess.
The charge in the room below detonated, throwing Mark and Eldrin violently against the ceiling. Dex’s head slammed hard against the floor. His vision went dark.
Thanks for reading! You can look forward to Chapter 2 sometime in the next week, maybe sooner if I get my act together.