Category: Colour

An Invasion of Coloureds

Even though she is twice Aurie’s age, Colour is not a professional soldier and like many has a hard time making a distinction between “war” and “killing.” I do not think she regrets what her mother and country did to protect themselves, but I’m sure she wishes there had been another way. General Hartmann? She’s probably gaming in her head how she could have done it better.

I think I’m finished with exposition. If not politics, it’s time for Aurie to start killing people and breaking things. I mean, what else is an army for?

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Colour at Dusk

These next two will wrap up getting Colour Jansen up to speed on things south. I know Aurie could just use overhead imagery to see the old Boston harbor but like any good commander, she prefers personal recon.

Rainy day here, thankfully, so my honey-do list is halved and I have time to write. Daughter #1 will be down for the night from uni for a doctor’s appt tomorrow. Pondering what to make for dinner.

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Standing to the Colours

Hearing what Colour has to contribute, I admit I smiled when Aurie takes her friend’s off-hand line as a serious possibility for “urban renewal” in former Boston.

I’ll be doing some more writing today and tomorrow but Monday is my 30th anniversary and I’m helping the missus top some bushes and trees in our backyard. Thus, installments might be a little spotty over the next few days.

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Seconded Colour

Sorry for the pause. Now that this is headed for novel-hood, I cannot keep scrolling up and down to recall tertiary character names; you never know when they might get their own book. Also, I’ve begun to print regional maps and make notes of legionary and other military dispositions.

I’m guessing that Colour sees what she will be telling the general as “old information, ” and thus not classified. It is, of course, for her, but for Aurie it is the world through a human’s eyes, not some data feed into her enhanced mind. She’s old enough to value that.

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Horsing Around with Colour

One hundred miles on horseback is a hard ride. I don’t recall the miles but my time record is about four hours. And that was back when I was young and fit. Colour, at fifty-two, must be made of sterner stuff.

Another relatively quiet installment as we transition away from NorFed politics to legionary life. I’m playing with ideas and making notes as to what happens their morning-after-next.

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Taking Colour

Vet appt for new puppy, Yuki, this morning. All seems well but he’s a little tired and cranky from a couple of shots. Then I had to repair one of our toilets; normally not a big deal but my left hand is not very functional right now (switd?) due to a ganglion cyst, so I nearly threw my back out contorting myself.

I now think I can turn this into a novel. That means one thing which implies another: a 50,000-word count minimum (currently just over 12k) and I cannot just jettison the reason I started this; that is, Colour. There is precedent in my other works where a demi basically tells a human, “follow me,” and expects it to be done. And here it is again. I have a suspicion this mature lady is about to have her world turned upside down.

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Colourful Sunrise

Busy weekend. Nearly three hours at DayJob (Saturdays are usually only two) followed by putting the shelve together. After Mass and paying bills on Sunday, I had to haul said shelf and copies of my books to the mall… where they are having a car show. And thus no place to park. I cheat and use my wife’s cripple tag which also makes me have to walk less. Consult with the store owner about where to set up, put out books, decide that sucks, re-arrange books, re-consult with owner, and leave. I still had more to do about the house – putting the toilet overhaul off until Tuesday – so no time to write. As I anticipated that I did not feel guilty. But after nothing over the last two days, today’s installment is a little longer.

More politics. It looks like Aurie is winning and it also looks like she nearly blew it by going too far, too fast. Except for the Canadians, who have played nice with them for nearly three generations of the Change, the good folks of the Northern Federation are a socially conservative, quiet lot. Very wary of change.

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A Data Dump of Colour

Wherein I mine three? Four? Different books of Machine Civilization for Aurie to thoroughly confuse her friend with a real-world demonstration that when, some posts ago, the princess said, “we demis think fast!” she meant it. To each other and humans.

I like how when Colour probes some of Aurie’s defenses, she gets the polite equivalent of “not telling” right back at her. Like y’all, I’m beginning to understand that there are things Machines know demis won’t get and things demis know humans won’t. A future both simpler and vastly more complicated.

Side note: lots of about-the-house projects this weekend so we’ll be back on Monday.

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Exit Nephew of Colour

I thought of posting this as an 1100-word bloc, but it breaks nicely with the two women seeing Filk Jansen off before they take a stroll in the wood. That will be the last segment before Aurie is back to the Governing Council for a little hardball.

It’s interesting that when Aurie taunts humans it’s primarily out of fun. Faustina did it because, as one of her relatives later said, “being a jerk is who she is.”

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