Forty days remaining in Transilience's funding campaign. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The number of days it rained and flooded the Earth.
Tick. Tock.
The number of days Moses prostrated himself before God in order to save the Israelites.
Tick. Tock.
Half the number of days Phileas Fogg wagered it would take to circumnavigate the Earth.
Tick. Tock.
Time is running out.
Since my last Update, I've been sifting through detritus of sections of Transilience that feel mercilessly to my editorial sword. Between my 5th revision and the current, which I call the 9th but is probably the 10th, I hacked out roughly forty thousand words.
40,000 words!
You aren't misreading this. Forty thousand words.
Ah! You see...another instance of forty in the Update's narrative. Perhaps Mr. Bragg is more clever than we thought.
Whole chapters fell to the wayside like chaff to the sickle. Three chapters became one chapter. The narrative tightened. The pace quickened. Exposition shortened. Verb choice revisited.
One of the chapters that did not survive the blood bath was a Prologue. Yep, Transilience contained a Prologue once upon a time.
I wrote it because it takes place outside the scope of the narrative. It happens before Charlotte Rennick steps into 3rd Street and disturbs Helmqvist's perfectly quite afternoon. I didn't seem right to slap a Chapter 1 on it and keep going. I wrote it because I thought it a clever way to introduce the crime and present the reader with a ton of clues that would only be relevant later in the narrative. Unless...the reader happened to be particularly insightful.
Then a couple of things happened. One, I discovered there are very strong opinions about Prologues. Many of my favorite books contained prologues. "Concerning Hobbits" is approximately 4000 words of genius and I cannot imagine Lord of the Rings without it. Prologue hatred surprised me. Also, I am not one easily swayed by the prevailing opinions of the Internet. Usually only those who shout the loudest are the ones most readily heard. It does not mean they convey the dispositions of the majority. Nonetheless, those who railed against prologues did factor into my thought process. I can't deny this.
Two, after a long hard look at the prologue, I decided it didn't really add much to the narrative. Everything contained within the prologue will be brought to light before the reader reaches the final word of the last sentence. Covering the same ground twice felt like I was padding my word count. So I axed it.
But good news for the now curious. I have decided to include it here. If you so choose, you can read the prologue and perhaps decide for yourself if it adds anything, or too much, to the narrative. You'll excuse any formatting issues. I will try to correct them as best I can. And now on with the prologue....
Prologue
21 June, Earth
With its faded sign, blacked-out windows and general state of neglect, the TLS Intergalactic warehouse looked like every other structure jammed into Newark's sprawling, overcrowded Hudson River waterfront. And yet, while most of its neighbors bustled with activity, this building gave every indication that Industry had forsaken it long ago, which is precisely why it had been chosen.
The large open space of the warehouse’s interior contained six things: a recently opened shipping container; an industrial waste barrel with various symbols to denote caustic materials; a desk with a chair; a portable computer resting comfortably on the desk; and a backpack slouched next the computer.
In the gloaming of the unlit space, a man at the desk waited for the computer to finish its start-up routine. Once the beeps and the clicks from the machine stopped, a question appeared on the 3D display projected from a small lens atop the machine.
>;;;;;;;;; Who is more a fool, the fool or the fool who follows the fool?
Automatically, the man typed in his response on the next line:
>;;;;;;;;; When a wise man gives you better counsel, give me mine again.
He looked it over before pressing Enter. The response didn’t make any sense, or at the very least, it did not directly answer the question. Perhaps that was the point. He tapped Enter and another line of text appeared.
>;;;;;;;;; Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
In answer to this challenge, he wrote:
>;;;;;;;;; And thou, all-shaking thunder, smite flat the thick rotundity of the world!
He pressed Enter. The screen went blank and a monotone voice came over the speakers:
“Identity confirmed. Hello, Oswald. Are you ready to initiate the activation sequence?”
“Yes,” Oswald responded without elaboration.
“Acknowledged. Initiating sequence now.”
The 3D display filled with line after line of letters and numbers in seemingly meaningless combinations. Oswald’s eyes flashed left to right with impossible speed. When the sequence was complete, the computerized voice announced:
“Download concluded. The device is now activated. Please continue to the delivery point before 2:00 PM local time.”
Without warning, an electrical jolt surged through the computer and destroyed the hard drive and motherboard.
The death of the machine threw the warehouse further into darkness. Oswald rummaged for a flashlight out of the backpack, and used it to examine the the contents of the backpack.
Inside was an “I [Heart] New York” baseball cap, which he put on, a digital camera with an extra battery, a tablet computer, and a tourist’s map of Manhattan. All seemed to be in order. Time to go.
On his way out, Oswald dropped the computer in the vat of acid. It made no noise as it sank into the liquid. Within seconds, the machine was no more.
####
Oswald caught the 11:30 PATH train to lower Manhattan. Twenty-four minutes later, he stood outside the World Trade Center memorial site. With thirty minutes to kill before catching the northbound #4 at Broadway and John, Oswald did what he thought any tourist might do: he took photos of the monumental structure, commemorating the lives lost in one of the most unforgettable terrorist attacks in the modern era.
After a short bus ride, and a cab at Canal Street, he was at the Grand Central terminal in time to catch the 1:00 PM M15 to 1st Street. Fifteen minutes later, he stepped off the bus and looked up at the iconic buildings that were the headquarters of the United Nations. Oswald crossed the street and joined a queue of teenagers waiting to pass through security.
The biometric scanners, x-ray machines and metal detectors were his final obstacle. He would either make it through without issue, or he’d be taken down forcibly. If the latter happened, he had no idea what would transpire next. He didn’t have a contingency plan, but that wasn’t his problem anyway.
However, all went smoothly. His backpack passed through the x-ray machine, and he stepped through a booth that checked for metal, explosive resin, and known toxins. Nothing dangerous detected. The guards allowed Oswald to pass.
It was nearly 1:30 PM. Thirty minutes until the event. He wandered around Millennium Park and enjoyed a beautiful summer day in New York. At 1:59 PM, Oswald found a bench to sit on and waited for what would come next. He experienced no fear, nor did he succumb to the nervous habits one might feel in a situation such as this. In fact, he felt perfectly at ease. Oswald’s entire purpose in life was to be an agent of change. And he had fully committed to this fate.
When 2:00 PM chimed on his watch, Oswald heard a small, nearly imperceptible click. The countdown had reached its terminus. For him, the seconds that followed were not filled with the panicked screams of thousands caught in the sudden, unyielding power of the device that he carried within him. They were not filled with the sounds of glass, metal and concrete being rent asunder as the very world gave way to the heat and force from a blast of unimaginable power.
For Oswald, there was only the momentary flash of light - as brilliant as a super nova - and then nothing. His destiny had been fulfilled.
He simply ceased to be.
;>;;;;;;;;;
So there you have it. I hope you enjoyed reading it. I think it's pretty good, but ultimately not necessary, which is why it know resides in the File for Misfit Chapters.
On funding, Transilience has been ordered by some truly amazing people. That some of you are complete strangers to me but want to be apart of getting my book published humbles me. I seriously cannot thank you enough.
However, as it stands, Transilience will not even meet the base eBook goal; let alone becoming an actual paperback. I need a lot more help and a lot more generosity in the next forty days.
Tell your friends. Tell your family. Tell the person standing in front of you at the coffee shop...and why not...the person behind you! Support Transilience and be a part of something great!
Kev
Oh! Before I forget....I have recently read, and wrote a review for, Pearson's Papers. It's a novel by a guy I met in a writing forum and I am the better person for the acquaintance. If you are a fan of historical fiction, American history during the Civil War, or a good detective novel, check it out here.
