OT: One Last Landing

We pray for one last landing
On the globe that gave us birth;
Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies
And the cool, green hills of Earth.
– Robert A. Heinlein

Earlier today, Atlantis, America’s last space shuttle – America’s last means of reaching even low orbit – landed safely.

Now, our nation, like our astronauts, is grounded. The best we can do is to beg or buy a ride with the Russians who, despite their many problems, haven’t given up on spaceflight. Before too many years pass, the Chinese may be able and willing to take an American up with them.

We are too beaten down to lift our eyes to the stars and dream and dare. Where once our questing spirit rode rockets it now rides Rocinante and pines for a hitching post.

The last word goes to the Apollo-era flight director who oversaw our glory days:

I pray that our nation will someday soon find the courage to accept the risk and challenge to finish the work that we started.
– Gene Kranz

Fiction: Life Near a Dragon

The lord looked out a window of his magnificent castle and nodded at the fluffy white clouds below him, all brilliantly lit by the winter sun. The clouds looked like snow, and that was all the more he needed of snow. A lackey had told him that it was snowing in the valley, which was the best place for snow.

Still, it was cold, and the fire in his bedroom would need tending soon. He walked across the expanse of the room so he could look out another window. He often did so to watch the endless line of peasants as they walked out of the clouds – or on a clear day, the treeline – bearing the things he required. They regularly brought food and water and wood, piled high on their backs. As each one deposited his load in the assigned place, he was given a small coin – and only one: the lord kept close track of his money, and none of his lackeys were generous with it more than once. Then the peasant joined the line going back down the hill. Strange how their backs were still bent even though they had been relieved of their burdens. Who could understand the ways of peasants?

The lord looked out the window.

* * *

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Pen to Paper: Fan Fiction

The first story I wrote was Star Trek fan fiction. It ran about two-thirds of a page long and was about the Enterprise blasting the heck out of a Klingon ship. I proudly handed it to my third-grade teacher for review. She neither mentioned it nor returned it. I apologize to my biographers for not being more diligent on their behalf when I was 8 years old.

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Fiction: Illumination

“The city’s swimming pools were full again today as we wind up our record-breaking third week of 100-plus-degree days,” the TV weatherman said over images of children splashing around. “My, doesn’t that look nice and cool! They’ll likely be there again tomorrow and the next day as there’s no relief in sight.”

Craig looked up from his tablet and scowled. He picked up the remote and muted the volume. It was bad enough to suffer the heat without listening to some idiot prattle on about it. Almost unheard over the window air conditioner, his children splashed happily in the horse tank he had filled for them to swim in. The nearest town with a swimming pool was ten miles away, and the water was too heavily chlorinated for Kathy to tolerate.

Jane glanced briefly at the now-quiet TV and her husband. She kept working to get the family’s dinner ready. The water for the spaghetti was about to boil. “It’s really too hot for this,” she said to herself. “Can’t live on sandwiches all summer.”

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Pen to Paper: Long Live the Serial Comma

Let me come straight out with it: I like the serial comma. It has an elegance and often a usefulness that I appreciate. Still, I don’t go into a meltdown when a writer doesn’t use one (unless it would have improved the sentence); there are bigger dragons to battle.

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