Thursday, November 15, 2018

Moon Shadow – Fiction Writing – C. C. Brower, S. H. Marpel

Moon Shadow - New Fiction Writing - C. C. Brower, S. H. MarpelWhen someone sends boulder-sized rocks down to planet Earth from the moon, they approach like meteors.

On the right trajectory, they don’t burn up in the atmosphere, but can come down with the force of a nuclear blast.

Our tiny outpost of sentient shape-shifting wolves and escapees from the slave-labor moon colonies had caused a stir up there. They probably still didn’t figure out how we managed to help all those people disappear, cross 250,000 miles of space, and wind up on Earth – healthy and smiling in the videos we sent back.

But they did figure out where our headquarters was – and targeted it with a string of flaming rock-meteors, all falling in a straight line toward our little valley.

If we evacuate in time, we can still avoid that impact.

But all it really means is: Earth and the Moon are at war – and they have the better weapons. Or so they think…

Moon Shadow – Fiction Writing – C. C. Brower, S. H. Marpel


They weren’t too hard to see – or even hear. A string of meteors heading right for us. The flaming debris left a long trail heading our way, and the sonic booms were enough to wake the dead.

Our only problem was how to escape the destruction. When something that lands with the force of a nuclear bomb – is it even worth running?

The question for most of us wasn’t whether, but how fast and which direction?

A few people in our valley didn’t run, didn’t stand and wait for the world to end. Instead, they got to work.

Betty took one look at the sky, and then sunk into the earth as an elemental.

Tess pulled her multi-colored “tessies” to her and vanished.

The Chief, now healed of his illness and a striking form of a large white-gray male wolf, simply stood at the mouth of his den and howled. The effect seemed to stop time in the valley – except for everyone running. Wolves were gathering their cubs and taking the closest path out of the valley. Any hoomans that could were shifting into wolf form, as that was much faster than any two-legged creature.

Sue and Teacher shifted into their eagle forms in order to guide the two streams of valley residents out of the way.

Above them, the meteors seemed to stand still in the sky, along with the wind. Chief himself was also stock still, a force of nature. A willing sacrifice to the pack if need be.

And everyone else ran as fast as they could – because their life depended on it.

– – – –

Malia, dressed in her favorite goth outfit, had come to their moon city’s observatory to train its most powerful telescope down on that valley.

On her black lips, below her dark-shadowed eyes, was a thin smile. Of hoped-for revenge to those who had crossed her plans with their own.

She had managed to have her last boss “disappear” but at the hands of someone else who he’d ticked off a few too many times. Not too hard, really.

And she was his logical replacement.

So she got his big desk, the private elevator with real wood paneling, the personal bathroom, and the bedroom – where he used to do his “personal training”.

His days were gone. And Malia had plenty of days ahead of her, by her reckoning.

On top of learning her new job, her new and higher boss, she also had to learn about how someone 250,000 miles away – on Earth – had interfered with her operation. Or a few someones.

That’s why she was up here – to find out how her “present’ arrived.

So she lined up the most powerful telescope down at a small valley that was just now coming into view. From her much smaller observatory on the moon.

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Tuesday, November 13, 2018

The Moon Cleaner – Fiction Writing by C. C. Brower, S. H. Marpel

The Moon Cleaner - Fiction Writing by C. C. Brower, S. H. MarpelWhen the unknown “X” lost her job and any way to make a living, she only wanted her life back.

But she settled for revenge.

In a way she wouldn’t expect – cleaning up the elitist government messes.

Because having dead bodies around did no one any good. And someone was on a purge in those self-named “royal” houses that ran the moon colony cities.

Her particular mindset and training as a medical clinician allowed her to view death with a singular frame of mind. While all the people she’d helped in that medical clinic gave her loyal, fast friends among the “down-belows” who did the mining and kept everything running.

The opportunity to now work for an ambitious executive who had a nasty habit of eliminating her bosses was just too good to pass up – and maybe find out who had wrecked her life.

The Moon Cleaner – Fiction Writing by C. C. Brower, S. H. Marpel


Being a Cleaner can be a good-paying job. As long as you can clean up like it never happened. That’s a trick, sometimes.

Everyone likes a good cleaner. But when you’re the best – they never even know you were there. And you then get the best pay. All under the table, or through some quiet channels.

Cops even liked cleaners. Because then they are only investigating a “missing person” report, rather than having to canvass for witnesses and carve bullets out of walls or furniture, run ballistics tests, and so on. Usually the same result. The case goes cold with no explanation.

So having a body disappear before its even reported helps everyone.

All that background led me to my best job ever.

Until I got the last thing I thought I’d ever have – a conscience.

– – – –

My boss finally turned over all the late-night cleaning to me. He stuck to the evening shift and left me to do the graveyard shift.

I knew where the shortest route to the fusion drive incinerator was. Just had to make sure all the metals were off that body and also got melted down.

And all those people I’d helped would tell me about job “opportunities” that were about to happen.

Setting out feelers found the people who wanted their accidents cleaned. And if the jobs were too high-profile, I’d turn them down. If they were smart, they’d re-organize the accident so it could happen someplace easier to clean. When they came to me more than once for the same “accident”, the price went up.

Of course, I got referrals. And tips.

That’s when I found a “royal” who needed some help. (what those toady execs started calling themselves – one meme that got going after the city lifted and took everyone else with it.)

It was one of those tips. With her direct line.

I’ll do someone’s cleaning for a freebie just to get some future business. Once.

This royal gal had left about three accidents around. And when I got a tip about who did the third one, I cleaned it for free – and contacted her on an untraceable text message.

She liked having unexplainable disappearances rather than unexplainable accidents. Cops investigating were like mis-loaded shotguns. Sometimes they hit their target, sometimes just winged it, sometimes went off in your face. You never knew the result.

So I did a few jobs for her. More than a few.

Until she left them still alive for me to deal with…

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Sunday, November 11, 2018

Blood Moon – New Fiction Writing – C. C. Brower, S. H. Marpel

Blood Moon - New Fiction Writing - C. C. Brower, S. H. MarpelExecutives running the last outposts of humanity are going missing.

Decades ago, certain cities lifted off from the surface of Earth, protected by fusion-powered shields. Their destination was the moon, to mine the needed resources to make the next phase of the journey.

The culture in these city-colonies has separated into two – the “royals” and the “down-belows”.

Now someone is carefully reducing the royal houses – one by one. Who that someone or someones are, or how they are doing this is unknown.

But not unwatched. The question is whether the watchers can solve the mystery in time. And do something effective to stop the disappearances.

Before these city-colonies, and their hopes for rescuing humanity – die.

Blood Moon – New Fiction Writing – C. C. Brower, S. H. Marpel


Two lovers emerged from their secret tryst in the bowels of their city center.

It was just below where the shields ended – more like, where they had an opening for the airlocks. Otherwise, the city building looked like it always did. Concrete pillars, walls, floors. Almost endless blank doors going to storage rooms – or to lover’s hiding holes.

Yellow and white stripes of pealing paint told stories of exits, entrances, places to go, how to move. Black letters overlay these with symbols to define the subdivisions.

Tonight, they only gave code to secret hideaways where royal lovers could sin in quiet, undetected for the few minutes of anonymous bliss they sought.

These two were now satisfied for their urges. Arm in arm, they hugged their way back along the passageway between these lines of blank doors. Tousled, barely clothed again, mis-buttoned clothes showing the passion of their moments alone.

At the airlock, she stopped them. “Shh – get in here, quick. They’ll see us.”

Shoving her lover through the thick airlock door, he hid inside so they wouldn’t be seen together. She shut the door, what he thought was her knowing sacrifice. Then he heard a hiss as the seal was activated. That signaled to him something was very wrong. The only other door he could see in that small room was the one that went to the outside. Raw vaccuum of the moon.

There were no air tanks in that room, no pressure suits hanging where they should be. This was a setup. He was going to die – unless that door he came in was unlocked and opened again.

He lunged to the single window in that door and peered out.

Through the dust and scratches, he could make out her face. Smiling. Goth lips and eyes. That mole on the right side of her face, just above her goth-black, full lips. The smile showed no teeth, just a knowing look that she’d accomplished something, for some reason he would never know.

Then he saw her palm the large button and the air started being siphoned out so the outer door could open.

She barely heard his frantic beating at the door, didn’t hear his screaming. Doors built to withstand zero pressure outside and livable pressure inside were too thick to pass any human sounds. Only those of beasts as they bruised and broke their hands pounding to try and save their own life. Futile. Final.

Then she turned and walked away. As the hissing continued, the air being siphoned out of that tiny room between the massive doors…

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