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Rendering Nirayel-Wayward Fates
Book One
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ISBN-10: 1-55404-470-7
ISBN-13: 
Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy/SF
eBook Length: 151 Pages
Published: July 2007



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Total Readers: 1

From inside the flap

Doctor Orval Kwibee is faced with military encroachment upon his governmentally backed virtual flight simulator enhancement project. He devises a plan to salvage his career by using a special presentation to stave off a very insistent Colonel Hereford.

Kwibee offers a briefing that largely escapes the Colonel, owing to the latterís lack of technical prowess, and follows the briefing with a live demonstration. Here, the Colonel comes to realize that one of the many enhancements includes the vast alteration in oneís perception of time while inside the virtual modifications. Another point of interest is the programís ability to reshape the memories and identities of the subject or subjects in any way that the program determines, so as to achieve its objectives.

Unfortunately, no one disengages the Infra-subliminal Bio-Optic Translator (IBOT) afterward. As a result, it is inadvertently commanded to initiate the executable for an online game that had previously been loaded by a junior assistant for research purposes. Once IBOT patches into the online gaming server, it quickly reroutes the connections of over a quarter-million players to its own enhanced version of the game, and then melds them with a newly structured role-playing environment of epic proportions. The story switches to this environment.

Not having planned for an extended stay at Port Dwergus, Squire Thistle did not foresee the need for provisions. This would have posed no problem, had he not been obliged by the letter of his own Councilís edict to remain at his post until a certain tardy Warrior finally arrives. With no other viable options, Jester is forced to pilfer a few apples from a local bakery. Although this behavior stands in direct opposition to everything he has ever been taught, the threat of starvation triumphs over an irritating morality.

While returning to Arbitos, Corporal Borin Krue finds himself faced with the precariously unavoidable services of the Druid, Squire Jesterwolf Thistle, who continues to land Borin in an almost constant string of ill-fated circumstances. This includes incarceration owing to the theft of the apples, seduction by Jesterwolfís sister, and a most unfortunate introduction to her seven-foot tall Barbarian husband. Aside from those misadventures, his only real problems are that heís not who he thinks he is, and none of this is actually happening.

Intrigue and humor set the pace in this first novel of the Rendering Nirayel series. Corporal Krue becomes unwittingly entangled with a large number of friendly and non-friendly types of Faction, Class, Race, and Magic.



Rendering Nirayel-Wayward Fates (Excerpt)


Private residence-08/01/10-3:30 AM-2150 110th Street-Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Dieter Hoffman sat before his computer, shoulders, lids, and chin drooping. It was early, even for someone whose devotion to a favorite pastime usually found him at it late, early, and anytime his spouse might be absent, or otherwise indisposed. Besides, his brother-in-law, the Twerp, was supposed to be logging on soon. "Twerp," he muttered disdainfully while slipping several inches further into a more pronounced slouch.

Despite his inability to achieve a more attentive posture, he did manage to register the coffee makerís familiar sputtering, and in response, his body seemed to commence its own assertions. The muscles in his legs tensed while his hands grasped the armrests in preparation for, or perhaps hopeful anticipation of, some further correspondence. The remainder took several moments, though the continued collective insistence of his appendages did finally prompt a semi-coherent rejoinder from their more academic partner.

After dragging himself to the kitchen, he emptied the entire pot into a very large mug, and then returned to put on his headset. This last part of the ritual was to avoid waking his wife at such an early hour. Much like his ability to detect coffee, an aversion to disturbing Sarah before daybreak had invariably made its way to the top of Dieterís priority list. Finally, he clicked the enter button.

The first thing he heard was the sound of muffled footsteps, followed quickly by a low and throaty growling as he whirled about to confront the Candlis goblin of The Talisman Quest, just as it pounced.

***

08/01/10-3:30 AM-{Location unknown}

Orval reached for the door handle, and then paused to regain his composure. He hated unscheduled inspections. Ironically, these were the very types of interruptions that had always brought about the majority of delays for which the inspectors were so concerned, not that he could ever include such information in any report. For that matter, he had not actually submitted a written report in quite a few years. Apparently, when mixed with matters of national security, bureaucracy becomes an excellent medium for those who prefer a minimum of communication.

Understandably, this had generated a certain deficit of viable rationale, and without implicating the true source of the aforementioned delays, he was unavoidably forced to become somewhat inventive. However, in the due course of time, plausible excuses became less and less abundant. Eventually, he had been forced to fall back on a number of somewhat less than plausible excuses, and thereby prompted an even greater interest by his superiors. At first, this had been handled easily enough through a few pre-recorded messages. This is Doctor Kwibee. Iím not in the office right now. Please leave your message at the beep. Of course, since he actually never replied to any given request, grievance, demand, and or any incoherent hysteria that may have been logged over a period of eighteen months, he found that the bureaucratsí concerns were yet again elevated to that rare point wherein the system of government actually takes action.

The wheels of bureaucracy do in fact turn. This usually occurs when bureaucrats become the victims of their own rust. Thus did Colonel Terrance Hereford arrive. Hereford was an obnoxious little man with no technical background whatsoever. What he did have going for him was an overbearing personality, a complete lack of tact, and a rather acute case of halitosis. In short, the perfect prerequisite for a bureaucratic, bean-counting squeaky wheel.

Even so, Orval found this latest of the Colonelís visits to be quite disturbing. Why would they pull an inspection at this time of day unless something was up? Something like the replacement of hard-working civilian contractors, with no talent, backstabbing military hacks! Donít jump the gun, Orval, he cautioned himself, taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and then closing his eyes while quickly reviewing the periodic table.

Several therapeutic breaths later, he opened the door. "Good morning, Colonel," he offered with a smile and what he hoped was a casual tone.

Hereford remained seated, but did swivel about to face him. "Have a seat, Doctor Kwibee," he offered in a dry, professional voice while gesturing to the chair opposite him, at the other end of the long conference table.

"Well, Iím sure youíre anxious to get down to business," he offered pleasantly, determined to conceal his irritation. He had just been invited to sit down in his own conference room while the chair offered was at the opposite end of the table in relation to his own chair, now occupied by the good Colonel.

He took the seat offered, and then opened his satchel, withdrawing the same documentation of support that he had used on all of Herefordís previous visits. Several pages were actually becoming somewhat dog-eared, thereby denoting subject matter found to be particularly puzzling by the Colonel.

"Let me begin by saying weíre all very excited by recent breakthroughs. We have assembled the finest team of researchers and programmers in the country, and all things considered, the accumulative progress has been phenomenal, to say the least."

"Excellent. Then may I assume we can begin withÖ"

"Nevertheless, it behooves me to remind the Colonel that we are far from ready to release anything for testing, much less for any military application."

At this, Hereford stared back at him with an expression as unreadable as stone.

Orval was no fool. Herefordís reputation for results through intimidation was the cornerstone to the manís entire career. Still, in the long and awkward moment to follow, he found himself glowering right back at the portly Colonel in spite of himself. Time, and relentless Governmental badgering, had long since chipped away any true sense of diplomatic charity.

Hereford broke the silence. "Doctor, Iím sure you have the best interests of the pilots at heart. The problem is that this project is both over budget, and overdue. In fact, youíve been behind schedule for the last five years. The truth is that Iíve stalled the Committee for just about as long as I can."

Oh, sure you did, Orval thought incredulously.

"If you expect to continue as Project leader, Iím going to need more to go on."

"Okay," began Orval with as much resolve as he could muster. "It just isnít possible to make you fully aware of the depth of technical details surrounding this project within the time frame allotted. No offense, Colonel, but youíre essentially a layman here, and since your superiors have necessitated that I become answerable to someone lacking the required technical background, then I cannot help but find myself handicapped in my ability to communicate. That being the case, the best I can offer is a summary of fundamental applications and basic theory."

"Oh, that," intoned Colonel Hereford warily. "Yes, that. Thatís fine, Doctor, but this time Iíll expect a complete hard copy of all raw data to be placed in my hand before I return to Washington."

"ButÖ"

"You remember Washington, donít you? Itís the place with all those nice people in the oddly shaped building who keep sending you truckloads of money."

The remainder of Orvalís congenial expression faltered. He had always been reluctant to deliver written reports, which had been verbally requested. If they actually were contemplating the replacement of his team, then he would be unable to appeal such an action. In fact, without the evidence of a written request, they could use his report literally to appropriate the entire project. He half suspected this had been their ultimate goal for some time.

"So, that said," continued the Colonel after what seemed like an eternity, "if youíre still interested in providing me with another of your little presentations, then I would be only too happy to cooperate."

Orval collected his thoughts, and then took another deep breath before commencing his oration of the projectís definition in the most predigested and generic descriptions feasible. Hereford had already heard a great deal of this before. Still, it had been Orvalís experience that the Colonelís powers of observation were somewhat less than razor sharp. This would be Orvalís fourth session to define the project for the man, including individual component layout, and a good deal of its history as well.