Teaser Tuesday: “Burnt Worlds”

So this week I was reading Burnt Worlds, a science fiction novel by S.J. Madill, in which the spaceship Borealis tests out a new hyperspace jump drive by leaping 35,000 light years away from home, whereupon said jump drive promptly explodes, leaving the ship facing a multi-year journey to get back. Of course, they only packed enough supplies for a day trip. Whoops.

So far this book is fast-paced and quite readable, but the most interesting thing about it is that apparently the reason the upstart humans have any kind of cred amongst the other, much older spacefaring species is that, due to some quirk of biology I guess, all the major races are able to speak it, and so it quickly becomes the lingua franca for trade and commerce. Even a high priestess of an alien race called the Palani uses it.

“Tassali,” said Dillon, the breath of his words visible in the air. “Master Seaman Singh said you wanted to talk.”

“Yes,” said the white-skinned woman. She sat carefully on a chair, her back straight, her feet together on the floor and her white-gloved hands clasped in her lap. “Why is she called ‘Seaman’? She clearly presents herself as a female.”

“Ah,” said the Captain. “A quirk of our language. A relic from an ancient time.”

Delicate furrows creased the Palani’s forehead. “Your language is a mess. It is irregular and imprecise. It favours the males. It is full of absurd idioms and slang.”

S.J. Madill, Burnt Worlds

So obviously by lingua franca the author means “English”.

• Quirky? Check.
• Full of relics from ancient times? Check.
• Irregular and imprecise? Check check check check check.
• Favors male generic terms? Check.
• Full of absurd idioms and slang? Get outta here!

Now of course it used to be the case that this is where, in a Teaser Tuesday, I would post a snippet from the book I was currently working on; but since that way only leads to frustration, I’m not working on anything right now. But perhaps I can interest you in a Teaser from one of my pre-existing books? I asked the Gods of Randomness and they said to put in something from position 304 of my old horror novel Night Watchman, so here you go:

The ground itself begins to swell, rising like a gigantic festering boil toward the black disk, the hole in the panoply of stars. The apex of the tar dome distends like a finger, a finger pointing at the dark spot overhead. Stretches and stretches, almost touches the hole in the sky.

Almost.

But before the swell quite reaches it, the hole winks out. The asphalt pimple holds motionless a moment, its surface quivering.

Then it pops.

And a black tide sweeps Nate off his feet.

James V. Viscosi, Night Watchman

Bear in mind that I wrote Night Watchman when I was very young. Barely 20.

And back then I favored short choppy sentences apparently.

And short paragraphs.

With leading prepositions and conjunctions.

But I got away from that style in later years.

I even started using semicolons!