I’m not gonna lie. So far, 2025 has been a raging asshole.
I don’t think there’s much value in explaining a lot of it. If you’re alive and even remotely aware, you can feel the knives of the future pressed against your skin. It is an uncomfortable and uncertain time for the world, and the volume was just cranked up by several degrees.
For me, personally, the loss of one of my greatest inspirations, David Lynch, has hit me particularly hard. Part of it is timing, with the death of such a kind, creative soul being immediately followed by the rise of the most cruel and corrupt leader North America has ever seen. But a lot of it would have bothered me even without that horrible contrast.
Way back when the internet was young, long before subscription services became the norm, I slapped down $9.99 a month for the now defunct davidlynch.com. He released strange videos on there (Dumbland and Rabbits – minutes long videos took hours to download back then), there were odd puzzles on site, and he would drop into the chatroom and talk to fans. For a little while, these visits were a weekly part of my life. He was always red text on black while everyone else was white. I’ve also seen him speak live a few times, experienced a life-altering midnight viewing of Inland Empire which he presented, and have listened to dozens of interviews with him on his thoughts and process on creativity. All of this is above and beyond the impact of the art he created had on me.
Everything I make has a bit of him in it. The lessons I learned from David form one of the foundational corners of my artistic process. I knew he was a smoker, aging, and had health issues. Even so, I’d always imagined we’d get one more dream out of him, before he left us. I am saddened that it wasn’t the case.
This loss, combined with all the world chaos, gave my write-bernation a good smack, and it’s taken me a bit of time to recover. Headspace matters. Mental state matters. The alignment of your mind impacts what you produce.
Negativity is the enemy of creativity. ~ David Lynch
Finding positivity has been difficult for me these last two weeks, but I’m think I’ve found it. Writing re-commenced on Shunt last night, and if felt good. Today was my hopeful deadline and I’m 2-3 weeks behind. Pretty much exactly the time I spent reeling. I’m not beating myself up over it. In the grand scheme, the book will be better than if I’d tried to force it when I wasn’t in the right state.
In other news, the Freaks and Geeks show I’d been hoping to attend in Dartmouth this month has been unfortunately cancelled. But, as a silver lining, I’ll be ending my write-bernation by attending Death-Con in Kentville in early April! I’m super excited as the event looks to be shaping up to be a really fun time, and I’ve never sold books in that corner of Nova Scotia yet. Here’s the link to tickets if you’re in the area and interested: Death-Con.
This is the last chapter of my serial release of Patchworld Nova online. I hope everybody’s enjoyed it. I learned a fair bit doing this and, next year, I won’t be repeating the process in the same way. The chapters make the emails way too long, and combining it with the monthly updates is just too much for most folks. Also, once a month is too infrequent for a serial story. Next year, I’ll be releasing a sci-fi novella, Navigator Gods, but will do it over a quick 3-4 month period, with weekly updates. I’m thinking, sometime late summer/early fall. Entirely separate from my monthly updates.
Thanks for sticking with this through my learning curve. Next month, Slogging the Mire will be returning to its simple update only format. I’ll continue to post something to the mailer/blog, either a story or thoughts on writing, every Monday. That seems to be working out pretty well.
As always, thanks for reading. Thanks for the support. I appreciate you taking the time to read it. If you like any of my posts or stories, give them a heart or share it around. Word of mouth is gold to an indie author. Stay warm. Stay safe. I’ll see you next month!
Barrington Brass had changed a lot since the last time Troop had been there.
He gave a gentle tug to Scally’s reigns, and she slowed to a stop. It was a good spot to get a view of the alterations to the place, here where they could see the water and shoreline. Enler, riding Lunabelle, kept going down the road, unable to stop the headstrong horse.
“Just a little pull, Enler,” said Troop. “Squeeze your knees.”
The Ancervin wiggled in the custom saddle, yanking and trying to get the animal to stop. Lunabelle paid him no mind and kept plodding along.
“A fickle wind in the hooves. I cannot!” signed Enler.
Troop chuckled, clicked his tongue, and Scally trotted up to join his inexperienced friend. “It’s all right. You’ll get the hang of it. Eventually.”
The town had grown, sprouting dozens of buildings. While a lot of these were traditional, human-style cabins, there were many others meant to house the new, refugee inhabitants. These resembled watchtowers with odd, angular shapes at their tops. The raised homes were pointed, built aerodynamically to face the wind from the ocean. Despite their dislike of the water, most of the new Ancervin in Nova Scotia had taken up residence on the shoreline, where the wind was the strongest.
There was a larger building, down by the shore. Even from this distance, Troop could make out the Ancervin carpenters, building ships for the humans.
It had turned out, Enler’s people were adept builders. Coming from a place with limited resources, and a scarcity of wood, they’d learned how to work with great care. Their carpentry and forestry techniques were marvelous. Trees were never cut at the trunk. Branches and boughs were shaped as they grew, and the Ancervin only took what they curated from the living trees. Their feet, so used to gripping stone in high intensity wind, were perfect for climbing in the coastal forests.
In the year since their arrival, they’d helped re-vitalize towns all over the Eastern shore with their unusual woodworking techniques.
Their instinctive understanding of wind had resulted in some incredible advances in shipbuilding. They’d been helping to replace old, out-of-date fishing boats all season. The new vessels looked strange, but the human sailors took to them well enough. Mitch and Murray were still out on the water, but now their boat was anything but traditional. The two sailors swore by the innovative, almost kite-like design with its thin poles and silken sails.
As usual, Lindsay was waiting for him when Troop and Enler arrived. She smiled wide and waved her arm, with a clumsy hand gesture and exhalation. It wasn’t quite “I’m glad to see you” in Ancervin, but it was close enough. Enler signed back, appreciating the attempt.
The pair stopped, but didn’t dismount.
“You fella’s hungry? I’ve got some brown bread just done. Should be cool enough,” she asked.
Troop shook his head. “Nope. We’re good. Just came to pick up Min, then we’ve gotta get a move on. Expectin’ a call later.”
Lindsay, never one to let things go, raised an eyebrow. “Callie? Calling from the Spire?”
Troop sighed, tired of the woman’s constant matchmaking. “It’s a Council call, so yeah, probably. Minala over at the school?”
“Yes, indeedy,” said Lindsay, giving a little sly smile. Troop swore the woman would pair him up with anyone if she could.
They said their goodbyes, took a few slices of brown bread anyway, and continued to the other end of the small town. They could hear the kids laughing and screeching before they got there. Class had, obviously, ended.
There were more human children than Ancervin ones, and the alien kids were all bigger. Even in youth, when their bodies were small, their antlers were almost full size. Enler had explained that they’d evolved them almost like biological anchors, to keep the young from blowing away. Their children took a lot longer to walk than humans. When they did, they looked funny and disproportionate. But then, Troop thought, babies big ol’ heads probably looked odd to the Ancervin as well.
The kids were all playing some sort of tag or keep-away game that involved Minala as being “base”. The schoolteachers, an older man and an Ancervin woman, were watching from the sidelines, smiling as the kids all raced around, rushing in and out to touch the cat-like woman so they could speak to one another. Minala’s ears were perked, and she was grinning, enjoying the game. Troop and Enler dismounted and joined the two teachers by the building porch.
“How’s it going, Mr.Whynot?” asked Troop.
The old teacher nodded. “Well. Very well. She’s a huge help, as always. These kids, they’re picking language up a lot quicker than I am, that’s for sure.”
There was a round of screams as one of the Ancervin boys ran up the side of a jungle gym with just his feet and perched on the top, narrowly avoiding being caught by the others. Troop smiled.
“They don’t seem to be having any trouble getting along.”
The old man agreed. “Nope. Kids are kids.”
Minala pulled herself from the gaggle, patting heads and saying goodbye to a chorus of sad wails. Once she’d extracted herself, she came over to Troop and Enler, taking each by the hand.
She smiled brightly. Did you miss me? she sent.
“Always,” said Troop.
“As I do the wind,” said Enler.
She gave them both a squeeze. We should get going, yes? To get home in time?
Troop nodded. “Yeah, we shouldn’t be late.”
After helping Enler back onto Lunabelle, Troop and Minala got on Scally. The Celevere woman was lighter than the satchels of repair work he’d lugged around in the past, and the horse didn’t mind the extra weight.
He’d been thrilled to be reunited with Scally. Mike had let the horses go free, when everyone had evacuated up to Hawksend Causeway. But Scally had just taken the opportunity to come home, back to Troop’s place. Lunabelle had followed her. Two days after arriving, Troop had been walking the property, enjoying a morning tea, when she’d come clipping across the yard to see him. It felt good, and he hadn’t realized how much a part of home she’d been. They’d spent so many long hours together. He was glad she was safe.
The familiarity of home was good, but it hadn’t stopped him from a slow trickle of unsettling thoughts. Ever since that day in the Shaft, he’d carried an unease that he just couldn’t shake.
As they plodded back down the 103, Enler drifted ahead, unable to control Lunabelle’s pace. With her hands on his shoulders, Troop wasn’t able to hide any feelings from Minala.
Are you okay, Troop? I can tell you’ve been thinking about it. He knew she’d be able to sense it. There wasn’t any point hiding.
The Eater had been on his mind.
There had been a moment, at the very end, as Troop hurled the crystal from the machine, where the feelings he’d been receiving from the creature had changed. In the final seconds, the Eater had realized what was happening, as their patch lifted from the Dyson Platter.
As their bit of stolen planet had been cast off, removed from the Patchworld by Troop’s hand, and thrown into the vast emptiness of space, all that craving and yearning had turned into fear.
Sheer terror.
Those last sensations, where the Eater had proven itself capable of more than just hunger, had haunted Troop ever since. It meant it had more than one feeling. It hadn’t been only made of pure hunger. There had been more to it, and that meant that, maybe, there might have been a different solution.
Could he have stopped it without killing it? He didn’t think so, not really. But the possibility tormented him.
Nobody really knew why they’d all been abducted; human, Eater, Ancervin, Celevere, and all the rest. There were those who speculated that the Patchworld was a preserve of some sort. They believed that all of their home-worlds were gone, and all that remained of their species could be found here, on the Patchworld.
Troop wasn’t sure about that, but there were a surprising number of cultures who had been on a path that might have easily led to extinction at the time of their taking. From everything he’d heard, Earth had been confronting several existential threats to human life, from world-ending weapons to a collapsing ecosystem. They hadn’t been the only ones with those sorts of problems.
If that was really what they were, some preserve, then Troop hadn’t just killed the Eater; he may very well have killed the very last Eater. The only one that remained in the entire universe.
As much as his actions had saved everyone, and he was hailed as a hero for it, he didn’t like thinking about having murdered a whole species.
Somewhere, on some distant planet, that thing had evolved exactly as intended. Just like the rest of them, it should never have been taken from its home in the first place. Until he understood why it had been, why any of them had been abducted, his conscience couldn’t let the issue rest.
He didn’t have to speak for Minala to understand how he felt. She’d hadn’t been connected to him, there in the final moments, but her empathic abilities were more than enough to share in his memories and understand all his concerns.
It will all be okay, Troop. Maybe they have news. Answers, she sent.
Life experience had taught him that nothing came that easily, but he allowed the hope to exist, for her sake.
As they rode the rest of the way home, Troop tried to refocus his thoughts onto his surroundings; the trees, the smell of the ocean carried on the breeze, and the sounds of birds and buzzing insects. His horse underneath him.
It was a miracle this was all still here. Billions of miles from Earth, in a driverless ship, careening to an unknown destination.
The improbability of it all made him feel more lucky than he deserved. Home, a place he’d always treated like a cage, set his mind at ease.
The black SUV was back in the driveway when Troop got home. Arany, always intrigued by the containers other species put themselves into, had opened up all the doors (and the hood and trunk) and was crawling in and out of the vehicle, inspecting the controls. Two security guys in suits stood back, watching the spider-like alien go and shaking their heads.
They’d made good time, but Celestia had come early. They didn’t bother taking the saddles off the horses and went straight in to meet her. She was standing in the living room with another man, and the pair were overseeing a trio of techs who were installing a console into what used to be Troop’s sun-nook.
His little sister smiled and opened her arms for a hug. Troop returned the expression and accommodated her, wrapping his arms around her. He was so proud of all she’d accomplished. How much she’d grown and changed. She’d managed what he never had been able to; successfully standing up to his mother. It was amazing how that had altered his feelings about her.
Separating, she gestured to the man beside her. “I’m sure you recognize him, but I don’t believe you’ve ever met directly. This is GC Doucette, from the Abidance, Troop.”
Troop winced with an apologetic smile and extended his hand. “Chief Doucette, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
The man took his hand with a shake of the head. “Likewise, Mr. Daniels. Although, if you’d told me I’d be here, in your living room with the Provincial president, a year ago, I’d never have believed it.”
Troop nodded. “There’ve been a lot of changes, that’s for sure. I am sorry about what happened at the dam. I wish there had been another way.”
The man shrugged. “Our present is built on a foundation of the past, both good and bad. Just… don’t do it again.”
“Deal,” said Troop.
Two of the technicians backed away from the console and the third sat in the chair, flicking switches and powering it up. “Almost there,” he said.
Troop looked to Celestia. “Is she going to be on the call? Do you know?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s meant to be a Council announcement, and mother is assigned to their science division. I barely hear from her these days. She’s on some sort of expert team they assembled and won’t tell me what they’re studying.”
“Of course not,” said Troop. “That would be clear communication, and she couldn’t use the mystery to justify her neglect.”
Celestia sighed. “C’mon, Troop, be nice.”
Before he was able to respond, the screen flicked to life and there was a chiming sound from the speakers. A moment later, Callie was there. The big monitor was so clear, it looked more like a window, and Troop instinctively leaned in, as if to shake hands or embrace, before remembering she wasn’t really there.
He smiled at the sight of her. The Iza circuitry had grown into a fine mesh that covered much of her body. Her habit of wearing long sleeve shirts, to hide the scars on her arm and shoulder, had reversed. Now, she proudly displayed the micro-civilization that had taken up residence in the old wounds. Her arm, shoulder, and neck were covered with a sprawling city of Iza.
“Callie! It’s so good to see you! I thought it was just going to be a Council rep.”
She nodded, smiling back at him. “You’re in luck! We are the Council reps.” Hyus stepped into the frame, leaning down so they could all see him. He’d had much of the left side of his body replaced with prosthetic parts and a metal plate covered one of his smaller, side-eyes, signs of a grievous injury.
The wounds hadn’t been received when he’d subdued the Eye Song though. He’d managed to pull that off without incident by secretly altering the atmospheric mix in the telepathic alien’s tank.
No, once Hyus had realized that what he’d done had caused the patch defenses to fail, and the Eater had breached the Spire, he’d joined the defenders.
He’d actually been defeated, wrapped up in an Eater cocoon, and was being dragged away when Troop had severed the link to the Eater. All the extensions, from the warriors to the scouts, the terrifying fog to the supply beasts, had all dissipated to dust as the mind controlling them was separated from the bio-nanites.
Thousands of people, being slowly dragged to the now-vanished patch, had been freed and discovered themselves in the empty, dead lands the Eater left behind. Many of them had been injured and malnourished, lost and far from homes that no longer existed.
Their rescue efforts had been the Spire Council’s first priority.
“Hello to Nova Scotia,” said Hyus. “Is this your personal relay, Troop? Have they finally finished installing it for you?”
One of the technicians gave a thumb’s-up and Troop nodded. “Yes, power is finally run, and everything looks like it’s here.”
Hyus nodded, the tiny white ball on his head bobbing. “Excellent! I look forward to more conversations, since we can speak casually later. But, for now, there are some people you absolutely must meet.”
The big Myo-rak moved back out of frame, and Callie shifted to the side. To his surprise, two people came into view.
Two humans.
The first was a tall, black man, with a bald head and a beard. The other was an old Asian woman, with her hair done in a long braid. They might have been from the Province, but their clothes were very different, and based on their expressions, the way they carried themselves, Troop didn’t think so.
Callie introduced them. “Troop, this is Representative Sakho, from the Angola Patch, and Representative Wei, from the Ningbo Patch.”
Troop didn’t understand, and the confusion on his face must have been clear as the pair introduced themselves.
As soon as they’d finished, Callie continued, her voice growing more excited as she spoke. “It wasn’t just us, Troop! The Patchworld took more than just Nova Scotia when they passed by the Earth. Four pieces! We’ve managed to contact these two, one from China, another from Africa. We think the last is South America somewhere, but it’s far on the outer rim of the Platter. We haven’t gotten to them yet.”
Troop stood there, stunned. It was Enler who spoke next, waving his arms with the same fervor Callie had in her voice. She knew what he was asking, even without speaking his language well.
“Yes! They’ve found two other Ancervin patches as well! I don’t know where they’re from, but yes, Enler, there are pieces of your world that weren’t destroyed. Same for you, Minala! There are more Celevere! We’ve found, as we’ve begun to inventory and categorize the patches, that almost all of them have more than one,” she said.
It was incredible news. Troop’s mind immediately sprang to all the species he’d seen destroyed, from the first vanishing of his origami neighbors, to the barren remains of the Representative’s world. It made sense, whether they were taken as a lifeboat or specimens, that whoever had done this would have orchestrated some redundancy into their plans. A failsafe, in the event something happened to one of the patches, they’d have a backup.
As he thought it, he realized the implications of the strategy.
“Is there another one?” he asked. “Another Eater out there?”
Callie shrugged. “We don’t know. We haven’t found one yet, but we’ve only mapped about 65% of the biomes so far. It’s possible.”
Troop didn’t know if he felt relief or fear at the possibility. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. If they find one, I’m sure the Council would vote to have it removed immediately. Even if nobody breaches their patch to provide them the energy to expand.”
“I don’t think the Council could, Troop. You remember our big onyx friend?” asked Callie.
“Of course. They left the Spire right after we stopped the Eater. Presumably, back to where they came from.”
“Well, last week they re-appeared, with friends. Hundreds of them. They ignored the Boxer’s registration process, smashed through the guards, and forced their way down the Shaft. Since then, they’ve destroyed all the elevators and blocked off access to the ring at the bottom. They’ve cut everything at the bottom of the Shaft off entirely. Nobody knows why, and the Council isn’t sure how to handle it.”
The news surprised Troop, but didn’t upset him. Ever since he’d ejected the Eater, he’d been concerned with the implications. If it could happen once, it could happen again, for whatever reason. He didn’t like the option being available, especially with a volatile Council, governed by a majority of Boxers. He’d certainly come to trust the onyx guy more than the new “caretakers” of the Spire. Even without communicating, they had always helped and made good choices.
Representative Sakho cleared his throat. “While these difficulties are of concern, I’d like to discuss the purpose of our meeting.”
Troop, happy to hear that there were other human patches, realized now that they had gathered all of humanity’s leaders in one place intentionally; Callie at the Spire, the two new patch governors, and Celestia for the Province with GC Doucette for the Abidance.
It felt strange, being counted among them.
“Very well,” said Callie. “This information applies to the Ancervin as well, so Enler, you’re welcome to stay. Minala, I’m sorry, but you’re not technically a Celevere rep. Could you, maybe?” Callie seemed unwilling to even ask the question.
Minala took no offense. Touching Troop and Enler, she responded. Tell her that I understand and it’s no bother. I was hoping to stretch my legs after all that riding anyway. She let go, gave Callie a big smile, and left.
Once she was gone, Callie pulled up a schematic, blocking out more than half the view-screen with a strange diagram of dots and lines.
“We have to make a decision, tonight, because this changes everything.”
At his side, Enler made a surprised noise. As Troop realized what it was he was looking at, he knew Callie was right.
It was dark by the time their meeting ended.
Even when it did, Enler wasn’t ready to wrap it up. Troop tried to get his friend to join him for a walk, or go relax with Minala, but the Ancervin was too excited by the news. He stayed where he was, using the new terminal to talk to the other Spire Ancervin, refugees who’d relocated to represent his people. It didn’t surprise Troop.
Even though they’d renovated the house, adding a stilt-like extension for Enler to live with him, Troop didn’t think he’d be sleeping there tonight. Not with so much exciting new news to talk about.
He left his friend to it.
Troop found Minala on the dock overlooking the lake behind the house. It was a favorite spot of hers, where she could listen to the peeper’s song and watch the dragonflies dance. She was curled up on the outdoor sofa, under a blanket, sipping on a honeyed cranberry juice she’d told him had a similar flavor to a berry from home. Not quite, but close enough.
Arany, with tiny spark of electricity on the tip of one of his arms, scurried around on the wooden decking, zapping mosquitoes out of the air.
The view wasn’t the same as it had been. Across the water, the red barrier was gone, replaced with one of pale blue. On the other side, there was a dream-like world of macro-bacteria, eerie shadows, and undulating gas polyps. It turned the sunrises more purple than rose in the mornings. At night, the cool azure color infiltrated the waves of the water, making them reflect with a crisp clarity bright enough to rival the stars above.
The real stars.
Troop had seen to that. While they’d kept the illusion of a sun and blue sky up for daytime, night was another story. After sunset, they dropped the façade and basked in the glow of a real universe. They’d kept the moon, for nostalgia’s sake, but from fake sundown to sunup, the rest was real.
Troop never got tired of looking at it.
Minala lifted a corner of blanket and he joined her beneath it.
Good meeting? she asked.
Troop nodded. “Yeah, it’s… something.”
Minala’s whiskers twitched. You do not have to tell me, if you shouldn’t, she sent.
“No, no. I can. It’s not going to be a secret for much longer anyway.” He tilted his head and looked up at the sky.
“They figured out where the ones who took us went.”
Her eyes went wide. “They did?”
“Yeah, the science team, my mother’s team, they had a breakthrough in understanding the navigation tech,” he said.
She gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing that accolades for his mother didn’t automatically translate to pride for him. It’s good they know. Whoever helped discover it. Did they learn why they left?
“No, but that’s not the biggest thing,” he said.
“They’ve figured out how to move the ship. The whole Patchworld. We can go after them, if we want. Find them. Maybe even get some answers. Learn why we’re all here, collected in this place.”
Minala joined him, looking up at the stars above.
And this is what they were voting on? To follow them or not?
Troop nodded.
Beneath the blanket, she found his hand. If they chose not to, I expect I’d feel frustration from you right now. Since I don’t, I can assume the Council voted in favor of going?
It was Troops turn to smile wide. “Enler’s in there talking to his friends about trajectory calculations right now.”
They didn’t talk, just enjoying the peaceful quiet, as Arany danced around the deck, entertaining himself.
As the false moon crossed the actual sky, the frogs quieted down and the trees became a black silhouette against the dim blue barrier. The wind was warm, and Troop could smell flowers, coming from somewhere in the night.
What do you think we’ll find, asked Minala, out there in all those stars?
It was the very question that had been rolling through Troop’s head since Callie had told them the news.
He didn’t have a good answer, but, he didn’t need one.
“Whatever it is, I can’t wait to find out.”
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