Shiny in the Black: A FIREFLY Christmas, part three (a repost)

Continuing my repost of this Very Special (but Not Blossomesque) Episode of Firefly.

part two
part one


“Weapons on the ground!” the voice shouted. “Now!”

“Do it,” Mal said. He shot a look at Jayne, whose expression of disgust tended to be indistinguishable from his expression of being about to lose his temper. Slowly, Mal, Zoe and Jayne all laid their guns on the floor.

“Put that package on the floor too, preacher,” said the voice.

Book put the crate down.

“All right, face the crates.”

They complied.

“Put your hands on your head.”

They complied.

“Stand on your left feet and recite the first stanza the Alliance anthem!”

Mal glanced at Zoe. “Uh, what?”

Now the voice burst out in laughter. “All right, turn ’em off,” he said. The floodlights all shut off, and the light returned to the dim of the warehouse overhead lamps. Mal turned toward the source of the voice to see a stocky man dressed in old army fatigues approaching. The man was bald except for long, stringy hairs that hung from the back of his head; he had a thick mustache and three days’ growth of beard. He gave Mal a gap-toothed grin as he put his hands on his hips.

“Ahh, Mal, what am I gonna do with you?”

Mal and the others glanced around at the ‘lawmen’, and saw that they weren’t lawmen at all. They were a motley bunch of thieves. Not unlike themselves.

“Jonas,” Mal said. “Fancy meeting you here. I never figured you to be on Ariel. Kind of a rich world for your tastes, isn’t it?”

“Gotta go where the money is, my boy,” the man named Jonas said as he lit a cigar and took a few puffs. “‘Sides, ain’t planning on being here long. I’m guessing you weren’t either.”

“Not really,” Mal agreed. “Can we put our hands down? I don’t tend to find this posture conducive to friendly chat.”

“Ain’t so sure we’re being friendly,” Jonas said. “But sure, let your hands down. Don’t make a move toward those weapons, though.”

“Of course not,” said Mal. “After all, we’re just bein’ friendly.”

“I suppose we are,” Jonas replied as Mal and his people lowered their hands. “So, Mal, what are you doing here?”

“Same as you,” Mal said. “Doin’ a job.”

“And what would be the nature of that job?”

“Well, we’re purchasing the contents of this crate right here and going with them to a…client on Haven. Easy enough.”

“Sounds easy. Haven’s a piss-poor world…wait, did you say you were purchasing the goods?”

Mal shrugged. “Yeah, we’re doin’ it the honest way this time. Wanted to see what that was like.”

“Really. Honest. Dumpin’ a box of coin here and taking the box? That’s a new version of honest. Sounds to me like you’ve found a way of stealin’ that ends up costin’ you money.”

“Yeah,” Mal said, shooting a look at Shepherd Book, “I guess we didn’t really work all the kinks out.”

“Well, Mal, I can’t let you have this box. See, we need it, too. I’m doing a job, myself, and there’s a cantankerous old woman out on Whitefall that could use some of what’s in that box.”

“Whitefall?” Mal laughed. “You’re planning on doing business with Patience?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Oh, no reason,” Mal said. “Just make sure you plan for her to try to shoot you.”

“Nah,” Jonas said. “Patience and me go way back. I was the one who told her that she should shoot you if she got the chance.”

“Well that was nice of you,” Mal said. “She got the chance. Twice. I’m still here, still flyin’. Counts for somethin’.”

“Yeah, I guess it does. But I can’t let you take this box, coin or no. You see, Mal–“

“Hey, Captain!” It was one of Jonas’s men. Jonas rolled his eyes.

“What is it, Randy? I’m trying to be threatening here, and you’re interrupting.”

“I know, Cap, but this ain’t the box we’re here for.”

“What?”

“Look!” The wiry man named Randy held out a PDA for Jonas to look at. “See, that’s the number of the box we want. It’s the next one over. That one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That one’s got the farming seed and fertilizer in it. See, the one we want is in slot number 29-94-77. This slot is number 29-94-75.”

“Oh,” said Jonas.

“Well, this changes things a bit, doesn’t it?” Mal said.

“I think it does, Captain,” said Zoe.

“You see, Jonas, there’s no need to make this deal confrontational. Instead of goin’ that way, we can go another. We’re not even here for the same crate. We’ll take what we want, you’ll take what you want, and everybody’s happy.”

“Seriously, Mal? You’re after this crate? What’s in it?”

“I don’t think that really matters,” said Mal. “Haven’s not a big farming world, so you can bet I’m not looking for farming seed and fertilizer. Let’s just take what we all want and be done with it.”

Jonas kept his gun aimed at Mal as he considered things. Then he nodded at the Shepherd.

“Sure, Mal, we can do that. But I want the coin, too.”

Mal shrugged. “Give it to him, Preacher,” he said.

“Really?” asked Book.

“Yeah, really,” Mal said. “Plan was to leave the coin here anyway. But if you’re gonna take the coin, least you could do is have your boys load our crate onto our hauler for us.”

“I suppose I could do that,” Jonas said. His men grumbled, but he hissed them quiet. “A friendly gesture, right?”

“Yeah,” Mal said. “If we promise not to shoot you, can we pick up our guns now?”

“Sure,” Jonas said. “But we’ll still be coverin’ you until this is done.”

“I figured,” Mal replied as he picked up his pistol. The others followed suit.

“How’d you get in here, anyway?” Jonas asked.

“Door was open.”

“Well, I suppose you can thank me for that,” Jonas replied. “Paid the guards to leave it open and make themselves scarce. All right, boys, you heard the man. Let’s get these boxes loaded! Remember, this one here goes with them, that one down there goes with us. With the Shepherd’s coin.”

Book handed the box of coin to one of Jonas’s men, four of whom turned to the work of loading both crates while Jonas and Randy kept their pistols aimed at Mal and his people.

“Somethin’ here ain’t right,” Jayne said. “We’re gonna get screwed on this deal.”

“Well, Jayne, the screwing was built into the deal, so at least we’re not surprised by it.” Mal shook his head. “This is a weird damn job, though.”

“Nah,” Jayne replied. “There’s still some way this is gonna go south. You watch. Always happens to us.”

Mal rolled his eyes. “Not all our jobs end in disaster,” he said.

“Name one,” Jayne said.

“Well, there was–“

“You ended up drunk and with a con-woman pretending to be your wife.”

“Yeah, but it was good up to then.”

After about ten minutes, they were all outside and both crates were loaded onto their respective haulers.

“Well, Mal,” said Jonas, “I’d prefer if you’d drive off first. And try to stay out of my way in the future.”

“Pleasure doin’ business as always, Jonas,” Mal said. “But I wouldn’t mind pointin’ out that just because we were in the same place, doesn’t mean I was in your way.”

“Even so. I don’t want to get your luck on me, Reynolds. You have a history of taking on work that doesn’t leave you much of a profit. One day you’re gonna realize that ‘Just keep flying’ isn’t a great strategy for life.”

“Thanks for the wisdom, Jonas. Got some for you, too.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Patience is gonna try to shoot you.”

Jonas grinned. “Let her try.” He gestured with his pistol, sending Mal and his people off.

“I’m tellin’ you, this is gonna be a bad deal for everybody,” Jayne said as they neared Serenity.

“Calm down, Jayne. Your opinion is noted.”

Mal drove the hauler back onto the ship’s cargo hold, and Kaylee closed the hatch behind them. Simon and River were there waiting; Wash was on the bridge, and he called down on the intercom.

“Captain?” Wash said. “I’m ready to lift.”

“What are you waiting for!” Mal responded. The ship shifted beneath their feet as the engines roared and Serenity lifted off. Book and Jayne were offloading the crate from the hauler and securing it.

“You see, everybody?” Mal said as he took off his overcoat and tossed it at the foot of the stairs. “Nice, simple job. No big worries, no big fuss. We’re out some coin, sure, but we’ve got a big crate full of nice, shiny toys that will make all the children in an orphanage on Haven happy.”

“Everything went all right?” said Simon. “No hiccups?”

“One little hiccup,” Mal said. “But it didn’t amount to much.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Captain,” said Shepherd Book.

“What?”

“Hey Mal,” Jayne said. “We got a problem.”

Mal glanced at Zoe. They walked aft, to where Book and Jayne were both staring at the crate, which Book had opened. Zoe took one look and let out a string of expletives in Chinese. Mal did the same, only with a string of completely different expletives in Chinese.

The crate was full of farm seed and fertilizer. They had the wrong crate.

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Shiny in the Black: A FIREFLY Christmas, part two (repost)

(Continuing my repost of last year’s Very Special Christmas episode of…)

part one

Wash put Serenity down on the landing pad, nice and gentle. So nice and gentle that Zoe complimented him on it.

“You’re getting’ more gentle all the time, honey,” Zoe said. “You have such a gift for handling sensitive equipment.”

“Thanks for sayin’ so, my love,” Wash replied. “But I could always use more practice–“

“All right, enough of that, you two.” Mal came up onto the bridge, fully dressed in his usual brown shirt, brown pants, brown belt, brown holster, brown boots, and probably brown socks too, if one could see them underneath all of that. “Wash, you keep the ship warmed and ready to lift if some part of this job goes south. Zoe, you’re coming along.”

“I figured, sir.”

“Captain,” Wash said, “is it really necessary to have contingency plans for this job? We’re actually conducting an honest transaction for once.”

“Yeah,” Mal said. “For once. We don’t get a whole lot of practice with this kind of thing, so who knows what might go wrong. You and Kaylee keep the ship ready. River and the Doc will keep you company. Zoe, you’ll be with Jayne, the Shepherd, and me.”

“What’s Inara doing?”

“Well, I think she’s still on her shuttle, writing long entries in her diary about how much she hates me right now.”

Zoe knew what that meant. “You told her no clients.”

“We ain’t got time. Why am I always the bad guy on this?”

“Oh, I couldn’t begin to venture a guess, Captain,” Zoe said. “Let’s go.”

Mal and Zoe began to exit the bridge.

“Zoe?” Wash called out.

“Yes, love?”

“You’re going to buy toys,” Wash said. “I could use a new stegosaurus for the collection.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The Captain and Zoe left then, and Wash reached into the small footlocker next to his seat and pulled out a handful of his dinosaur figurines.

In the cargo hold, Shepherd Book and Jayne had the cargo hauler ready to go.

“Jayne,” Book said, “do you really need that many guns?”

“Preacher, are you carryin’ that Bible of yours right now?”

“Good point.”

They lifted a crate containing coin up onto the back of the hauler as Mal and Zoe arrived and descended the criss-crossing stairs down to their level.

“Awful lot of coin to be givin’ up,” Mal said.

“A purchase of good will is never a bad purchase,” said Book.

“You get that from that Bible of yours?”

“No, it just came to me,” Book replied. “A preacher can’t live on the words of one book alone.”

“All right,” Mal said. “Let’s go. Kaylee, open her up.”

“Be careful, Captain,” Kaylee said as she opened the ship’s cargo door and lowered the ramp. Mal, Jayne, Zoe and Book drove off in the hauler. Then Kaylee closed the ship back up. She turned away from the control and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw that River was standing there, unblinking, just inches away.

“River! You scared me!”

“Would you like me to teach you a song?” River asked.

Kaylee blinked. “Uhhh…sure, honey. I’d love to learn a song.”

“It goes like this. ‘On the first day of Christmas, the operatives brought to me….'”

“Uh, River?” Kaylee interrupted. “Is this one of those creepy songs you learned while you were captive at…that place?”

“Yes,” River said. “I guess I should learn some new songs myself.”

“Yeah,” Kaylee said. “That would be great.”

***

Mal drove the hauler through a warehouse district of Ariel’s main city. Unlike the shiny, wealthy area they had visited a few months earlier – to steal some medicine – this area was much darker and dingier. Every planet, no matter how rich, had parts like this, Mal had long since learned. No one was rich enough to banish dirt and grime forever.

“You know where this warehouse is, right, Book?” Mal asked.

“I’ve got the address right here,” Book said, holding up an electronic data organizer. “And the crate number of the merchandise we’re getting. It’ll be in and out.”

Jayne growled. “Every time one of you people says we’ll be in and out, I go through half my ammo. I haven’t had an in and out job since–“

“Jayne, I’m sure that’s fascinating,” Mal cut in. “But just in case it ain’t, why don’t you hold it to yourself?”

“Sure, Mal,” Jayne said. “I’ll just sit here and be quiet as usual while you and Zoe tell each other the same stories over and over again. Hey, can I hear that one about that time you both got your asses kicked by the Alliance? I love that one.”

“Captain,” Mal said, pointing to himself. “First mate,” he said, pointing to Zoe. “Gun for hire.” He pointed to Jayne.

“Thank you for clearing us up on the chain of command, Captain,” said Shepherd Book. “But we appear to have reached the warehouse.”

“All right.” Mal brought the hauler to a stop near an entrance. “Standard procedure. Zoe, you’ll get us in. Then, Jayne, you’re in first, followed by me, then the Shepherd, and Zoe, you bring up the rear. We’re going to try and find this crate, get it, and be done with it before anyone knows were here.”

“In and out, Captain?” Zoe said.

“In and out,” Mal agreed.

“Not usually our thing,” Zoe said as she walked to the door.

“See, Mal?” Jayne said. “This is what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Well Jayne, that’s six hours since I last regretted hirin’ you.” Mal smiled. “I think that’s a new record for you, ain’t it? Hey Zoe, you got that door open yet?”

“Think so, sir,” Zoe said as she pressed a button that made the large bay door swing open. “Pretty easy, too.”

“Huh,” said Mal.

“Anybody else thinkin’ that was a little too easy?” Jayne put in.

Mal shrugged. “Well, we’ve got guns, so if we get into some local color, we can make our way out.”

“There might be armed guards inside,” Book pointed out.

“Cold feet, Shepherd?” Mal said. “This was your idea. But we’re here, and I’m not in the habit of runnin’ away at the first sign of something unexpected, especially if that unexpected thing is something that actually makes my life a little easier. Like an unlocked door. Shepherd, grab the coin. Jayne?”

Book picked up the crate of coin, and Jayne came forward and led them inside.

The warehouse was, pretty much, like every other warehouse in the ‘Verse. There’s only so much you can do, really, to dress up hundreds of stacks of thousands of cargo crates in an enormous, cavernous room.

“Well, would you look at that,” Jayne said. “A warehouse. We don’t see these too often.”

“Sure, Jayne.”

“I mean, yeah, we go into our share of storehouses, stockpiles, armories…there was that one depository we knocked over that one time…and before I joined you people, there was that distribution center job…but not a lot of warehouses.”

“Jayne,” Mal said, “are you trying to get on my gorram nerves?”

“Just commentin’ on the unique nature of this job, Mal.”

“Shut it, Jayne,” Zoe said. “Preacher, you got the crate number?”

Book consulted a slip of paper. “It’s 29-94-75.”

Mal looked at the manifest markings emblazoned on the side of several nearby crates, and determined which way they needed to go. “This way,” he said, and with Jayne in the lead and Zoe in the rear, they made their way down the corridor created by line upon line of stacked crates.

It didn’t take long to find it. The crate was pretty large, taller than Mal by about two feet, and about eight feet long and six feet across. Mal shone his flashlight on the crate and read the number. “This is it,” he said. “29-94-75. No other markings.”

“There wouldn’t be,” Book said. “The number is all they need.”

“Yeah, I know how shipping works,” Mal said. “All right, here it is. Now we just gotta get it out of here.”

“That crate’s a little big for me to haul out on my back,” Jayne said. “Of all the gorram–“

Zoe cleared her throat. “I think that’s the solution to our problem, Captain,” she said. She pointed to an open area about thirty feet away, where two forklifts stood silent.

“There it is, then,” Mal said. “Easy. Jayne, you’ll drive the lift. We’ll get the goods back out to our hauler, get back to the ship, before anyone knows we were here. No problem. See, I told you! Easy job.”

At that moment six floodlights turned on, three from each side, all trained on Mal and his crew.

“Malcolm Reynolds!” a voice boomed out from the darkness behind the floodlights. “Malcolm Reynolds, you are bound by law to stand down.”

Jayne muttered something in Chinese.

“In and out, right, Captain?” Zoe said.

All Mal could do was raise his hands and nod for the others to do the same.

To be continued….

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They will be, oh, I don’t know, TREKKING at some point, yes?

The new Star Trek movie has a title: Star Trek Into Darkness.

OK.

The new Star Trek movie also has a teasing synopsis:

After the crew of the Enterprise find an unstoppable force of terror from within their own organization, Captain Kirk leads a manhunt to a war-zone world to capture a one man weapon of mass destruction.

And, the new Star Trek movie has a poster:

OK. Now, I haven’t seen the movie yet, obviously. And I liked the last one, despite its nonsensical plot and complete mishandling of any characters not named Kirk, because it was a very slickly made entertainment with great-looking visuals, fun dialogue, and a frankly wonderful cast. But you know what this rebooted incarnation of Star Trek doesn’t seem to have?

Star Trek.

Again, I haven’t seen the movie, so it’s entirely possible that it will be a very good film. But here’s the thing: Star Trek was a lot of things over the years, even as it creatively petered out in the Enterprise and Star Trek Nemesis days. It was sometimes good old fashioned space opera. It was military science fiction. It was sociological SF. It was comedy. It gave us some of the best time travel stories ever. It produced an outstanding submarine thriller in The Wrath of Khan, and it did political allegory at times very well (Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country), and at times it did political allegory not very well at all (The Omega Glory). Star Trek told some of the best love stories I’ve ever seen, whether the love was romantic love (“The City on the Edge of Forever”), the love between friends (“The Empath”, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock), or the love between fathers and sons (“The Visitor”).

But what Star Trek never was, even in its most flamboyant journeys into explodey-spaceshippy-goodness (“Yesterday’s Enterprise“), was a tent-pole action franchise. And between that title, that synopsis, and that poster, that sure as hell seems like what the current creative team is shaping up Star Trek to be. So I guess we’ll see no more exploring strange new worlds and new civilizations, then? Will this crew at no point be boldly going much of anyplace at all, certainly not where no one has gone before? I mean, look at that poster. What are we looking at? The optimistic future? A future of science, and of exploration? Or are we looking on twisted, mangled wreckage with some bad-ass villain standing in the middle of it?

I know, I know. It’s a reboot, so they’re telling ‘new stories’. But you can only take the concept of a reboot so far before it becomes unrecognizable. You can make Sherlock Holmes a modern-day detective, but you can’t make him a tee-totaling policeman with a wife and kids. You can’t call your movie a remake of Rashomon and only tell the story from one viewpoint. If your Romeo and your Juliet live at the end and get married, then they’re not Romeo and Juliet.

And if the Enterprise crew is an action star split into seven people…then it might be a fun movie to watch, like the last one was. But it won’t be Star Trek.

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“Shiny in the Black: A FIREFLY Christmas”, part one (a repost)

(Just because I can…I’m reposting this little crime of fanfic that I committed a year ago. Since it’s in four installments — coinciding with the four acts of a typical hour-long teevee drama — I’ll post it one installment per week, each Monday, culminating on Christmas Eve! Or you can just go back to last December’s archives and spoil it for yourself, if you haven’t read it. Anyway, enjoy! I hope.)

I feel a little bit dirty doing this…but only a little bit. I have no idea, had Firefly lived, if there ever would have been a Christmas-themed episode. Maybe, maybe not. But I got to thinking recently, that if Firefly actually had lived, and if it actually had done a Christmas-themed episode, what on Earth would a Firefly Christmas-themed episode even look like?

Well, at the risk of committing an act of fanfic…I like to think that such an episode would look a little bit like this.

Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don’t care, I’m still free
You can’t take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain’t comin’ back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can’t take the sky from me
There’s no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can’t take the sky from me…

Captain Malcolm Reynolds was usually the first one to exit his bunk in the morning, which, coupled with the fact that he was also usually the last one to retire to his bunk at night, went a long way to making him the way he was. Even on mornings like this one, when the night before he and the rest of his crew had been up abnormally late celebrating a score on Persephone, he was up before anyone else, no matter how much his head throbbed and the metallic taste of too much bad whiskey filled his mouth. But on this morning, as he climbed up the ladder to the hallway and shuffled toward the mess, he slowly realized that he wasn’t the first one up this time. Someone was in the mess already, and they were singing. Mal could make out the words – “God rest ye, merry gentlemen…” — and he inwardly sighed. On a typical day, Mal needed at least three cups of green tea before he was ready to deal with Shepherd Book. Today he figured to need six cups before he felt ready to talk to anyone.

“Ah! Good morning, Captain! There’s water on the stove, just off the boil, if you’re looking for tea.” The Shepherd beamed.

“Yeah,” Mal said. “I’ll get to the tea in just a moment, Shepherd, but just now I’m a bit flummoxed as to why there’s a tree in the corner of my mess.”

“Oh, that,” said the Shepherd. “I hoped you wouldn’t mind. Just a little something I picked up before we left Persephone yesterday.”

“I didn’t notice you bringing a tree on board?”

“Yes, I was worried about how to sneak it onto the ship, when I realized that God had provided me a perfect way to get it past your eyes.”

“And that was….”

“You and Jayne were ripping drunk. Zoe and Wash and the Doctor carried you on board. You weren’t noticing anything last night.”

“I wasn’t that drunk!”

“Maybe, Captain, but you got out of bed and came all the way to the mess wearing your gun, your slippers, and a pair of women’s underwear.”

“Oh.” Mal staggered over to the stove. “I think I’m gonna have that tea now, while you explain why there’s a gorram tree on my gorram boat.”

“There’s no need for language, Captain.” The Shepherd folded his hands in front of his chest, in that prayerful stance that Mal hated. Of course, Book well knew that the Captain hated it when he took that tone, which is why he did it so much more often now. Mal just grunted as he fumbled in the cupboard for his favorite mug and the tea leaves.

“Hand me the kitchen robe,” Mal said.

“Certainly.” Book opened another cupboard and pulled out a bundle of cloth, which he tossed to the Captain. This was the ‘kitchen robe’, a bathrobe that Mal kept stashed in the mess just for situations like this. He put on the robe as his tea steeped, and just in time, too, because that’s when Zoe and Wash arrived. Zoe looked all cleaned up and ready to go, as did Wash, even if no one could tell because Wash generally looked all cattawumpus, with his unbuttoned shirt over a tank top, shorts, and sandals.

“Well, this is very nice,” Zoe said. “Care to let us know what you’re wearing underneath the kitchen robe, sir?”

“I do not,” said Mal. “And you can stop laughing. We’ve all had mornings like this.”

“Not laughing, sir.”

“You laugh on the inside,” Mal countered.

“It’s true, honey,” said Wash. “You do. I, on the other hand, plan to laugh joyously out loud at our Captain and his self-induced plight.”

“I hold my liquor better than you,” Mal said.

“I never get much chance to develop my skills in that regard,” Wash replied, “seeing as how somebody‘s gotta be sober enough to fly the ship. Speaking of which, do we have a destination, Captain?”

“Can I drink my tea first before I think about business?”

“Certainly, sir.”

Shepherd Book took a step forward. “I actually have a few thoughts as to that–“

“Ooooh, pretty!” And with that, everyone turned to greet Kaylee, who had just arrived in the mess as well, wearing a freshly cleaned pair of overalls over a shirt with little red hearts all over it. “I didn’t know we could grow trees on board!”

“We can’t grow trees on board,” Mal said. “This here is a flight of fancy by the good Shepherd, who I’m sure will be explaining himself momentarily.”

“Well, I like it,” said Kaylee. “It’s shiny.”

“It’s not shiny yet, actually,” said Book. “It will be, after we decorate it.”

“Decorating?” Mal said. “A tree?”

“Yes sir,” said Book.

“So just the fact that there’s a tree on my boat isn’t even the strangest part of this whole business?”

“It’s not strange, Captain,” said Book. “It’s a tradition.”

“Preacher, you got any notion as to how many weird things people do are explained by casual use of the word ‘tradition’?” Mal sipped his tea. “That explains a lot of your whole ‘Shepherding’ job, you know.”

“Traditions become traditions because they mean something to people,” Book said. “You’ve got some traditions yourself, Captain.”

“Name one.”

“For one, your finding of an Alliance-friendly bar every year on Unification Day. And also your overindulgence every time we get a little more money for a job than you’d planned.” He smiled. “At least this tradition doesn’t involve a headache and the burning of another set of clothes.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be taking that explanation now, if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly, Captain. It all began on–“

He was interrupted by a loud burst of raspy Chinese as Jayne Cobb staggered into the mess. “Smells like a ruttin’ forest in here,” Jayne said when he’d finished cursing in Chinese.”I hate forests. They remind me of my grandmother.”

This, as did many things Jayne said, made everyone stop talking and stare at him.

“What? Oh, I suppose you all think that forests are nice places filled with happy little creatures. Like one of Kaylee’s storybooks.”

“I don’t read ‘storybooks’,” Kaylee protested. “I’m not a child, Jayne. I’m an engineer and I’m a woman with all the needs of a woman, like—”

“Stop! Please!” Mal burst out. “You know I don’t want to hear about that, Kaylee.”

“Sorry, Captain.”

“Wash, can you just get us in the air, please?”

“I wanted to hear about this tree first,” Wash said. “I mean, since you haven’t given us a destination yet for our next job and all.”

More silence, until Zoe cleared her throat.

“By any chance, Captain, did you think to line us up a new job when we finished the old one?”

Mal shrugged. “I had other things on my mind last night,” he said.

“I’ll say,” said the newest arrival into the mess. “Although I don’t think he was exactly thinking with his mind last night.” It was Inara, who looked typically resplendent in her kimono-like morning robe. “Was she memorable, Mal?”

“Well, she–“

“You don’t remember her, do you?”

“You know, I think we’ve all got off the main topic here, which is why there’s a gorram tree on my boat!”

“Well, Captain,” said Book, “as I tried to start explaining–“

“A Christmas tree,” said yet someone else. Tensions went up as the voice of the ever-enigmatic River Tam cut through. “We had a Christmas tree at the institute. The men there said there would be presents. That was before they started the mental probes.”

River stood there in the doorway, with her brother, Simon the good doctor, standing behind her.

“River?” Simon said. “Do you remember something?”

“I remember everything,” River said. “I just choose when to talk about it.”

“So,” Simon said, “you know what the tree is?”

“I just said so,” River replied. “It’s a Christmas tree. But it’s naked. It needs decorations to make it shiny.”

“Ah,” said Book. “You see, Kaylee? That’s what I was getting at. We’ll decorate it.”

“With what?” Kaylee asked.

“Oh, all sorts of things,” said Book. “Ornaments made of painted glass. Little lights. Popcorn that we put on strings. And I even have a figurine of an angel for the very top of the tree.”

Jayne cleared his throat. “Anybody else here havin’ a hard time figurin’ out who’s crazier here, the Shepherd or the Doc’s sister?”

“I don’t think it sounds crazy,” said Kaylee. “I think it sounds nice.”

“It kind of does,” said Wash. Noticing Zoe giving him a skeptical glance, he went on, “What? I’ve been saying for years that this boat could use some more color on it.”

“My boat’s got all the color it needs,” said Mal. “Look, people, next person other than the Shepherd who talks is on mess patrol for a month. Shepherd, explain this. You’ve got until I finish my cup of tea, and if your explanation ain’t convincing, you’re the one on mess patrol.”

“A hard bargain as always, Captain,” said Book. “It’s an Old Earth tradition. The Bible tells us that one day, God decided to come into the world in the form of an infant, so he could save his people. Ever since then, believers have celebrated that night by doing things like exchanging gifts, and bringing trees into their homes to decorate. That’s what I’m doing here.”

“Shepherd,” Mal said, “didn’t I once tell you that God ain’t welcome on the Serenity?”

“You did, Captain. But it’s my belief that God is here, whether you consider him welcome or not.”

“Well, be that as it may, you’ve brought a tree onto my ship without asking me.”

“Would you have said ‘yes’?”

“No, but that ain’t the point. I like to be asked anyway. It’s my ship.”

“I just thought…it might be a source of pleasure for us,” Book said. “You don’t have to believe to celebrate.”

“You said somethin’ about exchangin’ gifts,” Jayne said. “What’s that?”

“Well,” Book said, “we could each randomly select a member of the crew and get that person a gift.” He noticed the scowl on Mal’s face. “Or not.”

“We should,” Kaylee said. “We don’t do enough nice things for one another.”

“I let you all stay on board,” Mal said. “That’s nice of me.”

“And your hospitality is known throughout the ‘Verse,” Inara said. “That’s why so many people flock to us to give us money.”

“Yeah,” Mal said, “I’m a loving man. But as to the money thing, you said something about a job, preacher? You got a lead for us?”

“I do,” said Book. “Of a sort.”

“Of a sort? The paying sort?”

“Not as such, no.”

“Then what is it?”

“There’s an orphanage on Haven,” Book said.

“Lot of orphanages on Haven,” Jayne pointed out.

“Yes, but as it happens, I know this orphanage particularly well.” Book looked like he was remembering something…but then he snapped back to the moment. “I would simply like for us to take some of our recently abundant bounty – not all of which was obtained through means the authorities would entirely smile upon – and use it to purchase supplies for the orphanage. We would then deliver said items to the orphanage in time for an upcoming festival.”

“Supplies?” Mal asked.

Book nodded. “Food, clothing, and…toys.”

“Toys?” Mal repeated.

Jayne frowned. “And we’re doin’ this in exchange for what?”

Book just smiled.

“No way,” Jayne said. “No way, uh-uh. No way I’m givin’ some of my ruttin’ money to some bunch of orphans. Ain’t my fault they ain’t got no home. Let ’em grow up, find work, and make an honest livin’.”

“Is anyone besides me,” Simon said, “unusually touched by Jayne’s newfound belief in making an honest living?”

“Shut up, Doc,” Jayne said. “Least I ain’t hidin’ behind a slip of a girl.”

“No,” River said. “You hide behind a gun that you gave a girl’s name.”

Jayne’s only response to that was a grumbled growl.

“Let me get this straight, preacher,” Mal said. “You want us to spend some of the money we’ve fought and scrimped for and use it to give stuff to children? And you want us to do this on a time frame of…what?”

“Three days, Captain.”

“Three days. And we’re doing all this with no reward for us?”

“Not all rewards come in the form of money, Captain.”

“The ones that keep this boat in the air do,” Mal said.

“Come on, Captain!” Kaylee said. “I, for one, would like to do a job for once that don’t make me feel like I need a shower after.”

“Maybe we put it to a vote of the crew?” Simon offered.

Mal glared at him. “My ship ain’t a democracy,” he said. “But…Jayne?”

“Can’t decide, Mal,” he said. “Normally I’d be against this sort of stuff, but I’m thinkin’ that if we don’t do it, Kaylee here’ll be complaining about it for months. Might well be worth doin’ to keep her quiet.”

“Thanks, Jayne,” Kaylee said. “But really, it’ll feel good. Don’t you all want to feel good about something for once? I mean, feel good about something other than stealin’ from the Alliance?”

“There’s other things to feel good about?” Jayne asked.

Mal turned to his second in command for help. “Zoe?”

“I don’t know, Captain,” Zoe replied. “Normally I’m siding with you, but right now, I find myself a bit swayed by Kaylee’s youthful exuberance.”

“I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” Mal said.

Shepherd Book put a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “I think that maybe some part of you is seeking redemption,” Book said.

Mal glared at him.

“Not really helping your cause there, preacher,” Zoe said.

Book removed his hand.

“If we do this,” Mal said, “I’ve got some conditions. Kaylee, you are not allowed to badger me for an optional ship’s part for one month. Shepherd, you will do all cooking and mess duty for the same month. Jayne, one word that this job makes me soft, and I’m shooting you out the airlock.”

“What about me, Captain?” Inara asked, purposely blinking her beautiful eyelashes as she did so.

“Uh…I’ll think of something,” Mal said. “All right, Shepherd, where are we going first?”

“To buy some toys,” Book said. “Which means a trip to Ariel.”

“Wash, you heard the man. Let’s get in the air. I’m gonna go clean up. Can’t believe I’m doing this….” And with that, Mal left the mess to return to his bunk. Wash and Zoe headed for the bridge, and Kaylee left for the engine room. River gave Shepherd Book a look of reproach.

“You didn’t tell him the part about the elfin-man dressed in red who flies through the sky to give the children their presents,” she said.

“On the whole,” Book replied, “I figured it best to leave that part out of it.”

“Yeah,” Simon said. “That was…probably wise.”

Minutes later, Serenity lifted off and flew away from Persephone and toward Ariel.

End Part One
Part Two

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Alien, Episode One: The Phantom Alien

So I watched Prometheus a week or two ago, and I’ve been struggling to come up with a reaction more nuanced than this, but…well, this is how I felt about it. Prometheus is a stunningly made film. It’s one of the best looking SF epics I’ve ever seen, and I wish a hundred more SF spaceshippy movies would get made that look as grand as this one did. The visuals are full of eye-popping sensawunda.

The story, though? Well…it did nothing for me. It just plunked a bunch of disparate folks, some of whom with ulterior motives, on an alien landscape and then sent them out to poke said alien landscape with sticks and then get killed in awful ways when it turns out that the alien landscape doesn’t much want the likes of us poking it with sticks. So, it’s really pretty much a great-looking mashup of 2001 and Alien. One of those movies I think is magnificent; the other I think is stunningly overrated. Oh well.

I mean, Prometheus gives us a scientific expedition to another star system to investigate some kind of evidence of alien civilization, and yet these rigorous scientists do shit like open their helmets at the first sign the air’s breathable, and when they see a puddle of Alien Goo, their first response is, “I’m gonna stick my finger in it!”

I dunno…I guess I really wanted more from this movie than what it served up.

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Some possible cover art

Actually, none of these are really ‘possible cover art’, but these images are kinda-sorta how I’d like the cover of Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title) to appear, if and when it finally comes out.

Well, there’d also have to be, you know, the Princesses. And maybe a spaceship or two. Ayup!




(I swiped these all from Tumblr…mostly here.)

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The Mouse and the Lightsaber: Random Thoughts on the Disney-Lucasfilm Deal

When I got home from work today, I walked in the door, took care of the mail, unpacked my lunchbox, changed my clothes, and checked the news…to learn that George Lucas has sold Lucasfilm to Disney…including Star Wars. This news really stunned me at first, but as I thought about it, some things crystalized in my head.

:: For years I’ve read and heard people pining that the Star Wars franchise would go the way of James Bond, with different directors getting cracks at it. That seems pretty possible now, for better or for worse.

:: I don’t really have a problem with Disney owning Star Wars or taking the franchise into the future. I think that Lucas has long made it clear that he’s made all the Star Wars movies he wants to make, but that doesn’t rule out the idea of any new ones being made at all. That’s a big universe he’s created there. Why not?

:: For all the complaints heaped upon Disney over the years, fact is, they’re still responsible for an awful lot of really good stuff.

:: I’ve got to think that Disney will be a lot less reticent about the whole “releasing the original versions on DVD” thing than Lucas himself was. I’ve never been one of those fans, but they’re out there, and boy, are they vocal.

:: This also pretty much guarantees that the last set of changes to the Original Trilogy are almost certainly the last set of changes to the Original Trilogy, doesn’t it?

:: For all that…this idea of a new Star Wars movie every few years feels kind of odd to me. One of the big appeals to me about Star Wars is that it’s always been a single story (at least as far as the movies go), this tale of the two generations of the Skywalker family and how one fell into darkness and found redemption at the hands of the next. By necessity, now, the story will become more than that, and with each new tale, that original story becomes a smaller piece of a greater whole. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

:: I had a conversation on Twitter a week or two ago with a friend who had decided that all the various new Star Wars products just weren’t for him anymore, and as a result, his fandom was waning. The point that I made is that Star Wars has become so large in terms of product that one can literally decide what kind of fan one wants to be. That seems very cool to me. I adore Star Wars, but my fandom turns out to be very limited: it pretty much starts and stops with the six existing movies. I read the ‘Expanded Universe’ novels when they started coming out (and I still have quite a lot of love for the Timothy Zahn books, as well as quite a few of the comics, with special love reserved for the Marvel Star Wars title that ran from 1977 to 1987), but I’ve long since stopped following all of that. And I’ve never really gotten around to watching much of The Clone Wars beyond the first couple of episodes (which I actually found pretty solid pieces of entertainment).

Why is this? Well, mostly I suppose it’s because I’m so scattershot in my various fandoms. I’m easily distracted by The Shiny, and I want to fill my life with as much Shiny as possible. I’m just not wired to focus my energies on any one particular variety of The Shiny. But there’s just too much Star Wars out there for me to keep track of, and it’s aimed all over the map. There’s Star Wars for grown-up readers, and there’s Star Wars for kids. Which is why, for me, I’ve pretty much stopped at the movies. I’ll watch what comes, as an observer. And I’ll almost certainly see new movies.

:: I don’t hate the guy. I really, truly don’t. But if Hans Zimmer ever writes the score for a Star Wars movie, I will show up at the theater, consume an entire large popcorn, and then wash it down with ipecac.

:: This isn’t really relevant to the topic at hand, but…f*** Red Letter Media.

:: Some small part of me — the part that’s the writerly equivalent of the kid playing pick-up baseball on the sandlot with a couple of buddies, whispering “It’s the bottom of the ninth in Game Seven…we’re down by three, bases are loaded, two outs and I step up to the plate….” as he awaits the pitch from his older brother — has lazily daydreamed about getting Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title) published, and then a sequel, and then turning the following universal acclaim into being asked by George Lucas to personally write Star Wars Episode VII. That dream has now been taken from me. Sigh….

:: No matter the result, the fact that George Lucas is willing to let Star Wars go, after it’s been the labor of his life, is really something. If it wasn’t obvious, I love this guy and this just helps that right along. What a great thing to do.

:: Speaking of which: as a Buffalo Bills fan, the symbolism of an amazingly rich man selling to someone else the thing that brought him untold riches, that its future might be assured and in good hands, is not lost on me. I hope someone at Ralph Wilson’s house leaves a newspaper on the table, turned to this story….

:: SamuraiFrog has some thoughts, as I figured he would. So does John Scalzi, but when it comes to George Lucas and Star Wars he’s pretty much full of bird poop, so ’tis best to set your phasers (wrong franchise, I know) to ‘ignore’.

:: All that said…I’m really not sure how ready I am to see Princess Leia included amongst the lineup of Belle, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and all the rest!

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Zoom! Bang!

A couple of science fiction booknotes! Zap! Pow!

:: I’ve seen some mention of a book over the last year or so on various SF blogs called Ready Player One, by a writer named Ernest Cline. Aside from those mentions, I knew nothing about the book until I picked it up on a lark when I saw it at the library. Boy, am I glad I did – what a fun book!

Thirty years from now, the world is a corporate dystopia, and the prime form of escapism is a virtual reality ‘game’, created by two men who grew up in the latter decades of the 20th century, which is so massive that it incorporates entire enormous worlds within it. One of the creators, a fabulously wealthy techno-genius who is also eccentric and reclusive (think Steve Jobs and Howard Hughes, blended into one guy) dies, and bequeaths his entire fortune, a truly staggering sum of money, to the first person who can successfully complete a ‘quest’ that he has created within the virtual world that he has created.

This is all, well, not terribly original. A few decades out, the world is a dystopia where everything is run by a few corporations? Yeah, we’ve seen that before. And the ‘reclusive oddball creates a quest for riches’ thing? Yup, that’s been done too. Basically this book is It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World meets Demolition Man. But you know, sometimes originality isn’t about creating something totally new; originality can be found in mashups that no one would ever think to do.

But what really makes this book something else isn’t the mashup, it’s the way all the details are ripped straight from the entire grand, weird, oddball geek culture of the last thirty years, with key focus on the 1980s. If you grew up watching Star Trek and arguing with friends over the Ewoks and listening to Duran Duran and planning your afterschool activities on the basis of which of your friends had an Atari console and so on and so forth, then there is stuff in this book that will thrill you to the core. It’s as if Cline has packed his book with easter eggs, hundreds of them, for people from that period to get. Luckily, I grew up in that very era, so I think I got them all. For the most part.

Ultimately, Ready Player One is geek-porn of the highest order. My only complaint was the nature of the modern dystopia, which is mainly because I’m just generically tired of dystopias. This book is really fun, though. It’s paced beautifully, there’s payoffs galore between the compelling characters and the great stuff they do, there are villains of the ‘boo-hiss!’ variety, and basically, the book would be a slickly entertaining piece of SF-quest fiction even if it didn’t have all the various references to 80s-and-since geek culture. I recommend this book highly!

:: A few months ago I positively reviewed a SF novel called Across the Universe by Beth Revis, which is the first book in a trilogy. I have now read the second book, A Million Suns, and I recommend that one equally.

I don’t want to say too much about it, since it’s the second book in a trilogy and thus discussing its plot will require somewhat spoiling the first one, but the story from that first book (of the ‘generation ship’ that’s not what it seems, and the teenage boy and girl who plumb its secrets) continues in interesting and effective ways. We learn more about the ship and the nature of its mission, and the villain from the first book turns out to have left clues behind about something that he discovered before things went awry for him. It’s a very good read that left me waiting enthusiastically for the third one, which is due in January. (And I have a few guesses as to what revelations will come in that last book that I’m excited to see either confirmed or disproved!)

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An awful waste of space

As much as I love Carl Sagan, I have to admit that I never warmed to his one and only novel, a science-fiction first contact story he called Contact. I tried reading it a couple of times, and each time I only got about a hundred pages in before I stopped. I just don’t think that Sagan was really cut out for novel writing, no matter how great his gifts may have been for science writing. But in 1997, a movie adaptation of the book arrived in theaters, starring Jodie Foster and Matthew McConnaughey and directed by Robert Zemeckis. The movie was six months too late for Sagan to have seen it, alas.

I’ve had a somewhat uneasy relationship with Contact ever since it came out. On balance I like it a lot…but I don’t love it, and in truth, I never really have. I’ve never been entirely successful in putting my finger on what it is about Contact that vexes me, but after recently watching the film again on NetFlix, I think I have it: the movie is too unfocused. When the film is concentrated on telling its story and attending to that central story, it is a fine, fine piece of work. But too often I get the impression that Robert Zemeckis got distracted, often by something shiny, and there are way too many times in the movie that the story gets lost so we can follow something shiny.

Contact tells the story of Ellie Arroway, an astronomer whom we meet as a young child, operating her HAM radio under the guidance of her father. They have a wall map of the United States, on which she marks her radio contacts with push pins; after talking to someone in Pensacola, Dad comments that it’s her farthest contact yet. Ellie asks if a radio could talk to the Moon, or to Mars…or to her mother, who is apparently dead. Dad responds, “I don’t think they’ll ever make a radio that can reach that far.”

Grown-up Ellie (Jodie Foster) turns out to be an astronomer, as noted, who is using her research time at the Arecibo Radio Telescope to look for, as she says, “little green men”: she is dedicating her career and scientific energies to SETI (Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence). This leads to her meeting a former priest (Palmer Joss, played by Matthew McConnaughey), who despite being religious and spiritual where she is not, attracts her on a number of levels, and it also leads to run-ins with an older male scientist named David Drumlin (Tom Skeritt) who is snide and condescending to Ellie as he regards her chosen field of specialty as an utter waste of time. After a number of obstacles to her career – mostly owing to funding difficulties, as convincing people to part with money for something like SETI tends to be difficult – Ellie finally has a breakthrough when, while working at the Very Large Array in New Mexico, her radio telescopes detect an unmistakable alien signal. The rest of the film follows the implications of such a discovery.

Or, rather, the rest of the film should do that, and when it does, it’s incredibly effective and thought-provoking and loaded with the grand “sensawunda” of all the best science fiction. The problem with the movie is that it too often wanders into less interesting stuff, or its steps away from subtlety to drive its points home with a jackhammer, or it does things that forcibly eject me from the world of the film.

Taking the less interesting stuff first: Ellie Arroway is too often portrayed in the film as the feminine voice of reason in a crowd of over-bearing, pompous, or downright dim men. Science and engineering are male-dominated fields, and it’s a well-established fact that women in those fields tend to have a tougher going just to overcome gender biases. The problem with Contact‘s approach isn’t so much that it points this out, but that it’s about other things, and thus it can’t really delve too intelligently into those topics which really do deserve higher scrutiny. Thus we have Ellie being treated like an outsider on her own project, or Drumlin stepping up to claim ownership over a project he’s derided consistently up until the moment it proved fruitful. Ellie is constantly on the defensive in the movie, and I think it hurts the narrative because the film can’t just gear up and take us where it wants to go. Instead we have to keep talking about God.

And God is where subtlety just isn’t something that interests Robert Zemeckis. Contact is full of discussions of religion versus science, but the feeling is never that anything is really being debated; what happens is that opposite sides’ viewpoints are stated, and restated, and stated again. Ellie goes to a reception in Washington, where her first order of business upon approaching Palmer Joss is to immediately launch into a discussion on religion, without any preamble or preliminary; more than that, though, the script treats all such conversations – and many that aren’t on the topic of religion at all – as though Ellie has a sizable axe to grind, while everyone else (just about all of whom are male) is calm and collected in their disagreement. Coupling that with the several instances in the film where Ellie is betrayed by men – Drumlin’s taking of the credit, Joss’s posing of a question at the hearings when he knows that the answer is going to doom Ellie’s chances of being the one selected to go in ‘the machine’ – and the film seems to depict Ellie as someone who doesn’t so much achieve a lot but whom is given things, table-scrap like, by the men in her life. It’s an odd kind of feeling.

It also bothers me that the film ends right when it gets most interesting, and it feels to me like it takes the easy way out. To me, the most interesting thing is, What would human society be like once we know that we are not alone in this Universe? We may know next to nothing about who is out there, but surely knowing once and for all, without speculation, that there is someone or something living out there would be a staggering revelation for the human species. Unfortunately, the film doesn’t do much with this notion – in fact, it backs away from it. We get lots of intrigue involving the contents of the message that is received from space, and then the construction of the transport “machine”, and so on. And this is all very compelling and entertaining…but at the end, the film gives us the old “Did it really happen?” gambit, reducing a momentous scientific discovery to something that will appeal to some people and not to others. Not unlike, say, the belief in God.

(Again, I don’t know to what degree the film’s story tracks that of the novel.)

I always find that the film deflates in its last fifteen minutes or so, after Ellie returns from her journey only to learn that, so far as anyone here knows, she never went anywhere. This leads to a Congressional hearing (which really drives home the film’s theme of “one woman versus a whole bunch of mean men”), at the end of which one Representative says, “Are we supposed to take your story…on faith?” And yes, he really pauses and puts big emphasis on those last two words, just in case we missed the irony of a scientist committed to objective observation being forced to admit the necessity of faith. Again, subtle, this is not. The movie does try to have it both ways by showing two government folks discussion the fact that the machine’s video recorder recorded eighteen hours of static (had nothing happened at all, there would have been about two seconds’ worth). But this is to be kept secret, apparently. They might as well seal all this information in a crate and store it in the warehouse next to the Ark of the Covenant.

And the movie ends, on this state of affairs. What happens now, though? Does some kind of new religion start to accrete around Ellie and her scientific beliefs? Does Ellie somehow become an evangelist for a new blossoming of a scientific worldview? Does her experience have any effect on the human tension between science and religion? We never get any suggestions or speculations. All we get is the rolling of the credits. Contact tells a good story, but it stops just as its important story is just beginning.

Finally, I just have to note that all the cameos in the movie annoy the crap out of me. This was when Robert Zemeckis had just discovered that he could put people into lots of interesting situations, digitally; remember, he’d had Forrest Gump consorting with Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon. So here we get loads of real-life CNN personalities, and even President Bill Clinton, with the film taking quotes from actual Clinton newscasts and editing them so that it sounds like he’s discussing the events of the movie. It’s incredibly distracting. Instead of being drawn further into the story, I find myself trying to think of what event Clinton was actually discussing in the speeches that were repurposed for this movie. Things like having Rob Lowe play a Christian conservative leader named “Richard Rank” are incredibly distracting, because of course it makes me think of Ralph Reed. Shoehorning in mention of the mass suicide of the Heaven’s Gate cult, which had happened just months before the movie came out, is another example. Zemeckis seems to want his movie to seem ‘real’ and relevant, but all this stuff has the exact opposite effect on me: it forces me to keep the story at arm’s length.

Ultimately, I want to love Contact, because of my love and admiration for Carl Sagan, for the subject matter of the story, and for the view of the Universe as a place of wonder and of science as humanity’s greatest achievement. And there really is a lot to love about Contact. But the movie spends so much time getting in its own way that I inevitably end up just admiring it a lot.

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