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REVIEW:

A Legacy of Stars by Danielle Ackley-McPhail

 

by Sam Tomaino

 

A LEGACY OF STARS
by Danielle Ackley-McPhail,
Dark Quest, LLC, Neal Levin, Publisher, 23 Alec Drive, Howell, New Jersey 07731, www.darkquestbooks.com
, 2012, ISBN: 978-1-937051-95-2

 

A Legacy of Stars is a collection of short stories and poems by Danielle Ackley-McPhail. Some of the stories I have reviewed before, so I will not review them again. Nor will I review the poems as I do not really feel qualified to. So here are are the contents of this volume with reviews for the stories I have not reviewed before:

Building Blocks – Captain Kyle Dunjen and his five crew members, including the new kid, Sanders, land the Cortez on a planet designated for exploration by his superiors. Immediately, things go wrong. All eight of their Remote Specimen Extractors cease working. What is happening? A another plot thread about a civilization calling itself The Unity being destroyed gives us a clue. Interesting look at both sides of a story with good character development for Dunjen.

Carbon Copy - Private Katrion Alexander is not happy. For reasons unknown to her, she has been washed out of the 142nd Infantry aka Daire’s Devils and wound up with a desk job on the command deck of the Groom Experimental Complex, unexpectedly filling in for the officer of the watch. She watches her former unit depart on the
Rommel
, letting them go a bit early. Then, all hell breaks loose. Another ship just disappears and the station commander cannot be located. She calls an immediate alert and things get exciting really fast. Nice twist at the end, too!

Zinn Mensch - The
Mortimer
has docked at the Eisenwald Outpost in need of supplies. But the outpost is not responding to their calls. Lieutenant Kitch is sent to investigate and does not find the station’s human crew there He does find something, though, and we get an exciting story.

Oracle – Poem

Travellin’ Show - In the future, there are still “travellin’” shows with the “gypsies, tramps and thieves” referred to in the opening paragraph. Paolo and his sister Terlinda are part of the Kalderaš Caravan visiting the Midway Outpost, a space station in orbit around the planet Xerxes, midway between Earth and the furthest colony. Paolo is fiercely protective of his sister, but longs to live on a planet. When his sister disappears, Paolo goes after her abductor. Good solid thrilling story.

Self Reflection – Poem

The Devil You Don’t - Following the events in “Carbon Copy” Kat Alexander and her comrades in Daire’s Devils further exploits against the pirates who were the villains of the previous story. She finds out that they are under secret orders from Military Command to investigate possible infiltration of personnel on board their own ship, the
Rommel
. More exciting adventure follows.

SciFiKu 1 – Poem

By Any Means - Jean-Paul Marot survived mine disaster in space with his body mangled. Long-time care until he dies wll leave his parents in debt, His other option is to have his brain transplanted into a “developmental exoskeleton” and become a mining drone. But that’s not all the horror that awaits Jean-Paul. He finds out what keeps him alive and what automatic responses over which he has no control will do in case his “life” is in danger. This story was truly amazing. In just 13 pages, it does all it needs to. The best story in this book.

In the Dying Light – Reviewed in
Breach the Hull

SciFiKu 2 – Poem

True Colors– Reviewed in
By Other Means

Last Man Standing - A sequel to “By Any Means” - Jean-Paul Marot has sued for his freedom and been released from the chemical command that made him a mechanical vampire. Now, he works independently and only the foreman on the ship
Caliphus
knew that he was anything but a piece of machinery. A disaster befalls the ship and it looks like all of them will die. Can Jean-Paul regain some of his humanity? Another great story!

To Look Upon The Face of God - Private First Class Cassandra Franklyn late of the Dominion patrol vessel
Clar
k is alone in a spacesuit drifting in space after that ship had blown up. She had been on EVA when the disaster occurred and that is what saved her, for a while. But her oxygen will probably give out before she is rescued. Her past literally flashed before her eyes. Fortunately for her, she is not alone out there, even though th other is not human. Nicely done story of survival.

Ghosts on the Battlefield – Reviewed in
No Man’s Land

First Line – Reviewed in
So It Begins
-

SciFiKu 3 – Poem

A Legacy of Stars - The book concludes with a beautiful prose poem about a woman named Sesheta who has “gazed into the heart of a star.”

This was a great collection from Danielle Ackley-McPhail, a writer who spends a lot of time being a publisher and an editor, but truly shows she is a triple talent.

 

* * *

 

Sam Tomaino is a lifelong resident of New Jersey and a lifelong science fiction and fantasy fan. You can read his monthy short fiction reviews at www.sfrevu.com

CHATEAU NEVREANT

 

by Wade German

 

The cypress shadows spread a cryptic gloom

Across the portal of the old chateau;

And statues in the courtyard weirdly loom

Like watchers on an alien plateau.

Past crumbling stairs, dark halls and chambers seem

Too vast and void of solace for repose,

As if supernal forces had enclosed

This space in strange dimensions of a dream.

 

Dark echoes out of time are anchored here.

The portraits, armor, faded tapestries

Would speak of baleful crimes and unknown things;

As if a word might summon to appear

The presence of a spectral agency

Still bound by spells in some conjurer’s ring.

 

 

ONLY THE BONES REMAIN

 

by David Hollingsworth

 

artwork by Brad W. Foster

 

 

 

 

As he had for the past twenty years, Odala Vosh stared at the sword laying on the stone floor of the cave. But this time, instead of turning away, he reached out with a trembling hand. He could bear it no longer. Tears poured down his face as he clutched the braided silk handle and unsheathed the gleaming, blue-silver blade. He took a deep, ragged breath. His monstrous shame, mountain heavy, crushed him continually and could no longer be endured. He had put this off for far too long.

He held out the sword one last time, feeling the perfect weight of it in his hands. The old joys of swordplay flittered briefly over him. But all of his skills had been useless when he needed them most. All of his courage had fled at the worst possible moment. Even after so long, the memories still tormented him. He turned the blade to his stomach, feeling the sharp point begin to penetrate the flesh.

“Master Odala?”

Vosh spun around, pulling the sword away. In contrast to the darkness he knelt in, the harsh light blurred his vision as he gazed at the sun-brightened mouth of the cave. A girl stood at the wide entrance, wearing dusty and travel-worn robes. She adjusted the satchel slung across her chest.

“Forgive me,” she said with a bow. “I am Myono Sohka.”

The name rippled across his memory. “Myono?” His voice cracked from unaccustomed use. He could not even recall the last time he had spoken.

“Yes,” she said, bowing again. “Myono Keji is my father.”

Vosh rubbed his face, somewhat startled to find himself drenched in sweat. He tried to ignore how badly his hands were shaking. “I remember him. An excellent student and an excellent
Senshu.
How is he?”

“He is in the Dragon’s Repose.”

Vosh lowered his head, staring at the glimmering, naked blade in his hand. “He was a good man.”

“Before he died, he asked me to give you this.” She walked toward him, holding out a rolled parchment. There was no one else behind her, only the swaying of tall grass in the wind. Birds chirped outside of the cave.

Vosh rose to his feet and sheathed his sword. He could see her more clearly now as she approached him. She barely reached the middle of his chest. She had a round, young face with big, bright eyes. Strands of sunny brown hair had partially slipped from the long braid hanging over her shoulder. Her cotton robes, decorated with flowers and stars, were slightly bedraggled as if she had slept in them for many nights.

She had traveled a long way to find him, and by herself.
What could be so important?

He unfurled the letter and stared at the words in disbelief. He read it over and over, thinking it must be some kind of jest:

 

There is no one I trust more, revered Master. Protect my daughter on her journey, I beg of you. May Sharak’kai bless you both.

Your former student,

Myono Keji

 

His expression evidently surprised her, and she began to speak quickly. “My father always spoke highly of you. When I first made it known to him that I would one day travel to Two Skies to study the Starry Heavens in the Temple of Harmony, he said you would have to be the one to escort me. Barely a day passed in my childhood that he did not mention you or one of your lessons. He always said you were a man of great wisdom and skill.”

“That…was a long time ago.”

The girl tilted her head as she gazed at him. “I walked all the way from Sweetfield in honor of my father’s final request. I will walk all the way to Two Skies by myself, if I must. But it is a dangerous road to travel, or so I’ve been told. You would honor me and my father’s wish with your protection.”

He was far from other mouths and ears and had not seen another person in all the time he had spent in this cave. No one knew he was here. “How did you find me?”

She smiled. “Why, the stars told me.”

 

* * *

 

Wispy clouds floated through the sky that spread out blue and wide over the rippling sea of grass in the Bountiful Plains. Odala Vosh stuck his long walking stick into the ground at each step. He had hacked it off of a tree near his cave when they set out on their journey to the Temple of Harmony in Two Skies. Each night by the light of the campfire, he carved it a little more with his knife.

“Wouldn’t it be easier on the road?” Myono Sohka asked as she trudged along beside him.

Vosh shook his head. “Bandits and the Order of Light hide in the well-traveled paths, lying in wait. Like snakes. The Order of Light kidnaps thousands of innocents each day and forces them into slavery under the foolish belief that subservience is the only true path to the Starry Heavens.”

He spat and gnashed his teeth as memories of his wife and son inundated him. Vosh had spent many futile years trying to hunt down that vile cult of slavers before secluding himself in the cave. It was difficult to think of them without roaring into a rage. Yet he managed to compose himself after a moment despite the hatred blazing bright and fearsome in his chest.

“Often avoidance is the best route for safety,” he continued more calmly. “All we need to do is head north.” He pointed up at the bright star flashing high in the blue sky; it was the only star visible both night and day and always indicated north. “We can follow the Great Eye.”

“The Great Eye of Sharak’kai,” the girl said. “He is always watching us. After creating Kaifaene and ascending to the Starry Heavens, he promised to always keep his eye on us, to help guide and comfort us on our journey through the great circle of life. The chants sing of the promise of redemption.”

“Even redemption has its price.”

The girl looked at him and nodded slowly. He wondered how much she knew.

That night, after a dinner of rabbit and stale bread, Vosh sat cross-legged by the campfire, working his knife over the walking stick. Sohka read through a huge tome from her satchel, occasionally pulling her eyes away to gaze up at the vast dome of stars overhead. A few times, she shivered nervously. After a while, she rubbed her eyes and looked at Vosh.

“Do you believe in the Old Ones?” she asked quietly.

“They are tales to scare children, nothing more.”

“Oh.” She fell into a brief silence. The fire crackled. “There’s a chapter about them in the book I’m reading. The Blood-drinker, the Flesheater, and the Soulbreaker. The first people born on this earth. It says they seek the destruction of all life so that they can maintain their immortality and one day rule the earth, or what’s left of it. It mentions something about a pact with the Ruinous Void or some kind of dark power. It says some still dare to worship them, the Old Ones. Secret cults that hide far from the well-traveled paths.”

Vosh continued carving the stick with his knife. “They are myths at best. Nothing more. Our only concern should be about real dangers.” He nearly growled as thoughts of the Order of Light circled his mind once more.

“Why do you keep whittling that stick?”

“I’m making a sword.”

She tilted her head. The firelight glittered in her eyes. “Why? You have a real one already.”

Vosh stopped and glanced at her. “A sword has one purpose,” he said. “Do you know what that is?”

“Protection,” the girl answered.

“Armor is protection. A shield is protection. Avoidance is protection. But that is not a sword’s purpose. A sword does one thing and one thing only. It kills.” He held out the wooden stick, which had finally begun taking on the shape of a long, curved sword. The weight was good, not perfect, but acceptable.

“Then why make a wooden one? A steel sword seems more effective.”

“I have been too long from the ways of the
Senshu.
When your master first awards you a sword after years of training, he sends you out into the world to test your skills and to understand the serenity of swordplay. As you leave, you must make your own weapon from the wood of a tree near where your journey begins.”

“Why?”

“Because any fool with a blade can kill and any fool with a blade can die. As a
Senshu,
you must kill without killing. To test your skills you must engage in swordplay with others. To win is to kill. To lose is to die. A sword serves no other purpose. As a
Senshu,
you must win without killing and lose without dying.”

A warm breeze rolled through the tall grass. “That’s very confusing,” the girl said after a few moments.

Vosh laughed. “I suppose it is. You will need your rest. We still have a long ways to travel.”

Sohka put her book away and climbed into her bedroll. “Master Odala?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

After she had curled up and fallen asleep, Vosh rose to his feet. He moved slowly through the stances of the Stubborn Blade, the Springing Blade, and the Striking Blade. It had been a long time since he had practiced with a sword, even a wooden one. But the motions returned quickly, and his steps were deft and sure.

It had been a long time since his failure. That failure would not be repeated. He would take Myono Sohka safely to the Temple of Harmony—he would keep her from harm and from the insidious clutches of the Order of Light at all costs. Then he would die, as he should have long ago.

 

* * *

 

“The sky and the land are in harmony here,” Sohka said as they continued through the vast plains. “It’s very lovely. I wish all things could be so balanced. But harmony comes in many shapes, I’ve learned. Storms fill the skies at times, and mountains and ravines break the earth, but that’s what balance is. People are like that, too. We have our mountains and storms, our beautiful plains. But if we are only storms and mountains, there is no balance.”

Vosh could not help but smile at her. “And if we are only beautiful plains?”

She smiled back. “Then our stars and darkness are out of alignment. Too much good or too much bad, it’s the same thing. Balance.” She said the word lovingly and brushed a loose strand of sunny hair behind her ear. “We could never appreciate the beauty of a spring day,” she said, “unless we know the hardships of winter.”

“And we could never truly understand the hardships of winter,” he said, “unless we once knew the beauty of spring.”

She nodded sadly and looked into his face. He turned away to fidget with his wooden sword.

 

* * *

 

After a few days, they reached a small village on the fringes of Stumpwood Forest. Vosh had just enough coin left from before his seclusion to obtain two rooms for the night. There was still a long way to travel, and a good night’s sleep in a bed, he thought, would do Sohka some good. And perhaps himself as well.

He had taken a great liking to the girl and found her optimism and determination quite inspiring. In fact, he felt better now than he had in more time than he could count. He had purpose again, thanks to her.

They ate noodles and dried pieces of duck in the common room while the girl talked of her family. Her father, Vosh’s former student, had been bodyguard to a nobleman in Sweetfield for many years after earning his sword. Her mother had died giving birth to a stillborn girl when Sohka was five years old. Half a year ago, her father became ill and slowly wasted away. The girl wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“That was when he gave me the letter for you,” she said.

They talked for a while more until her yawns became frequent. “You should get some rest,” he said. “We still have many miles to travel.”

He escorted her to her room upstairs. Before closing the door, Sohka leaned forward and kissed him lightly on his stubbly cheek. A soft, airy sweetness. Vosh went to his room, but decided to have one more bowl of tea before going to bed—he hoped it would help him sleep. The rooms were not very expensive considering how far the village was from any of the main roads, and there would still be enough coin left over for a good breakfast in the morning.

In the common room, a group of merchants sat at a table in the corner with their bodyguards. An odd sight, Vosh thought, considering how out of the way this village was. A thin woman, playing a flute, danced on a table while a crowd of drunken townsfolk sang a lusty melody. Vosh sat down with a bowl of tea and listened to them.

“Forgive me, my lord. But may I sit with you?”

Vosh looked up at a plump, dark-haired woman holding a bottle of sweet wine and an empty bowl. Her sunsilk robes were low-cut and exposed the soft, pale flesh along the top of her breasts. She was already half way into the seat before he nodded his acceptance.

“Some wine, my lord?” She had a whispering, sultry voice.

“No, thank you.”

“Oh, do not make a woman drink alone. Please, just one drink, my lord. While we enjoy the song. Wine and song are lovers, after all, and must be enjoyed together.”

“Again, I must decline. And I am no lord.”

“Oh, but you have the look of one, my lord. Do not make a woman beg. This is a wonderful night, full of song and joy. One drink to celebrate this moment, a moment that will never occur again.” Her red lips spread into a smile, and she traced the line of her half-naked collarbone with a finger.

BOOK: Space and Time Issue 121
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