The Iguk is one of the monsters listed in The Bloody-Handed Name of Bronze. It guards the opal skeleton of Yog Shul and is duty-bound to return any piece stolen. To accomplish its task, it is thus blessed: that it may never be killed the same way twice.Continue reading “The Iguk”
The Emerald was originally built on Kantauri Five and titled Jannisary as a coast guard irregular vessel to patrol the interplanetary spacelanes of the Kantaur system, but after its hull fractured in pursuit of Betan lurra smugglers, the ship was scrapped.Continue reading “Free Explorer Emerald”
The Wanderer is a craft owned and operated by Captain Tali Att as they ply Wild Space, looking for new hyperspace routes and alien artifacts.Continue reading “Free Explorer Wanderer”
The purpose of the S16 analog synthesizer communication network protocol is to make direct, machine-to-machine collaboration between experimental musicians safe and easy, guided by curiosity. Naturally, as I’ve been refining and experimenting, I’ve been finding ways to make it more difficult. But at least I don’t think it’s less safe.Continue reading “S16: Forward Voltage, Current Limitation, and Preventing Clipping”
The World of Names writhes with living promises, the words of Namedealers plying the whims and vanities of the mighty forces of nature.
But Hanta has made a promise to enter the Waters of the Underworld. To most, that would be a simple condemnation to death. And Hanta is fairly certain that for her, it is, too.
As she rows downstream, dressed in the splendrous ceremonial regalia of an escort of the Pharaohs, she broods on her fate, bound she is by a complex knot of long-held promises — a knot pulled tight by generations of treaties spun by the priests, astrologers, and magicians of Misr with the river; with the Sky that covers it with its unblinking eyes; with the towns and ports that seed its shores with life; with vassal kings and heroes.
Losing hope, she accepts the offer of the young, pretty courtesan Tinkari for companionship.
…and to uncover what transpires between them, you will need to read Hugo-nominated author Mimi Mondal’s tale, detailed in the pages of the upcoming Bloody-Handed Name of Bronze! Of course, like all of my work, you will be able to see it first as a patron of my work at my Patreon!
Tinkari is an ingénue, a sacred prostitute from the brothel-temple in the heart of the city of Kalrim. When he said he wanted to see the world, Mother rolled her eyes and said he’d be back soon; the world was full of ugliness and discomfort, when he lived surrounded by soft bread and music, by pleasure and beauty.
But Tinkari found something else.Continue reading “Tinkari”
The Children of Shama have strict hospitality rules that require them to offer sustenance and shelter to anyone lost in the desert. On the whole, this works out well, since it gives some assurance that one will be rescued if one finds oneself alone. It also means that, should a Child of Shama set out across the desert, they will be able to intercept other tribes and know that they will be offered water and at least minimal provisions.
But the owner of this tent doesn’t know what they’re doing. They’ve made the mistake of traveling in the day and sleeping at night. The tent owner awoke to find these two travelers approaching with curiosity, preparing, as the sun rises, to make camp for the day and sleep through the high heat.
They are concerned that this foolish person will be a waste of their water, their coffee, their meager bread, and their lamb jerky provisions. They’d be happy to help someone across the desert, fulfilling their duty. They’re less sanguine about giving it to someone who is clearly just going to die of exposure in the next day.
An analog communication protocol for safely, consensually receiving strangers’ modular synthesizer control voltage signals without a subsequent burning sensation when you oscillate.Continue reading “The S16 Analog Music Network”
To the south and west of the Center of the World lies the Desert. Few would cross its expanse alone, as no roads may survive the winds that wash them away in waves of sand, scouring every footprint to nothing. To those from the Center of the World, it is a vast sea of sand and rock, untouched by rain, populated with ferocious wild donkeys, herds of camel, and little else but the unpredictable Desertmen.
The Desertmen, though, know it as their home, Nagash-Ayat, She who Hides Treasure. They call themselves the People of Shama and their many tribes know its wadi, its oases, its seasons and tides, its monsters, its hidden delights.Continue reading “The Children of Shama”