Other Worlds: A Collection of Science Fiction and Fantasy

By Joseph J. Madden

Aliens and dragons and zombies . . .oh my! These are some of the characters that lurk within the pages of Other Worlds, a collection of short fiction from the author of The Starhawk Chronicles. Within, we explore new territories . . . and some familiar ones as well.

—Follow Major Christi Thom on her first faster-than-light spaceflight, which yields some unexpected results.
—The adventures of Jesse Forster and the crew of the Starhawk continue in two new stories that delve into the mysterious pasts of two of the most beloved characters, Morogo and Podo.
—Travel with Kieran and Mohng, two unusual companions on a trio of adventures in the land of Druimoor.
—Meet Vance Argon, soldier of the future, as he heads into a fateful confrontation with the most despicable villain in the Galaxy.

These tales, and more, await daring readers, ranging from the serious, to the whimsical, and the downright silly. So take a voyage to Other Worlds. You are guaranteed to have an entertaining trip.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joseph J. Madden
• Release date: Nov 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781500312701

Joseph J. Madden

Born and raised in Queens, New York, Joseph J. Madden now resides on a horse farm somewhere in the wilds of SE Wisconsin with his wife, daughters, and a wide assortment of fur-covered critters.In March of 1978, then-seven year-old Joseph saw the original Star Wars in the theaters for the first time, an event that stirred within him a life-long love of science fiction and fantasy. By the age of twelve he began writing his own science fiction epics, a passion that continues to this day.Along with his first two novels The Starhawk Chronicles and Rest and Wreck-reation: The Starhawk Chronicles, Book II, he has contributed to the David Bowie anthology 47-16 (Penny Dreadful Publishing), Crossroads in the Dark Volumes III & V (Burning Willow Press) and has released his own collection of short fiction, Other Worlds: A Collection of Science Fiction and Fantasy.

Book preview

OTHER WORLDS

A Collection of

Science Fiction and Fantasy

Joseph J. Madden

Copyright 2019 Joseph J. Madden

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

A Note From The Author

Wormhole

The Gift

A New Addition to the Family

Tainted Love

Fast Friends

On Dragons Wings

The Dragon Thief

The Counsel of Dragons

Leaving the Farm

Meeting Lohren

Play Time

Afterword

About the Author

Dedication

For Glen A. Larson (1937-2014) whose television shows Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rogers in the 25th Century inspired endless hours of play for me as a child

And for Leonard Nimoy (1931-2015) who was one of the first to make me look to the stars.

A Note from the Author

Considering the content of the stories set within, an outsider might think Other Worlds an apt title for a collection of short science fiction and fantasy tales.

To those more familiar with me, they may think my original title idea, Brain Droppings, would be more appropriate. Unfortunately, (or maybe, fortunately), the late, great George Carlin already used that title for one of his books, and perhaps the world is a better place for it. Soo…Other Worlds it is.

I make no excuses or explanations for the tales contained within, other than years of pent up imagery rattling around in the brain of an overgrown kid trapped in an adult body, fed by a childhood of Saturday morning cartoons, science fiction conventions, Disney vacations, and candy—lots and lots of candy.

To those familiar with my novel The Starhawk Chronicles (SHAMELESS PLUG), some of these worlds will be familiar as I offer a few new looks into that universe, which I later plan on shamelessly editing into a prequel novel to make you think you are reading something fresh and exciting. (Bwahahaha! Mine is an evil laugh!)

Wormhole

This is the first actual short story I wrote as an adult, and probably the deepest, most thought-provoking piece of science fiction I have ever written. Possibly as close to Arthur C. Clarke or Isaac Asimov as I will ever get.

As its umbilicals disconnected with a jolt, the prototype hyperspace starship Yeager dropped away from the support tender and floated free in space.

At the controls, Major Christi Thom surveyed her readouts. All systems showing green, she reported. Everything looks good from this end, Control.

We copy that, Major, The controller aboard McKinley Station replied. You are go for pre-test maneuvers.

Roger that. She threw a wave out her cockpit window at McKinley: a wasted gesture, since McKinley was three kilometers distant, but it was part of her routine.

Another voice cut in on her helmet speaker. Godspeed, Christi. See you when you get home. First round is on me. This was Jim Matthews, pilot of Yeager’s support tender. The tender ship continued to fill the view above her as it began to move away.

Thanks, Jim, Christi smiled. And thanks for the vote of confidence.

She was truly grateful for that. Her historic first flight was actually the third attempt at a manned faster-than-light spaceflight. The initial unmanned flights had gone off without incident, flying out from Earth to Saturn in a matter of minutes. Enthusiasm ran high for a future of interstellar spaceflight.

The phrase Man plans and God laughs once again held true. Man’s great plans were dashed the moment a live pilot was placed inside the cockpit. XP-1 exploded as soon as its faster-than-light engines—dubbed the Wormhole drive— were brought online. Little more than dust remained of the ship and its pilot.

Eighteen months and another successful unmanned test flight later, XP-2 was launched. This time the flight looked to be a success, until the time came for the ship to revert to normal space. XP-2 dropped out of hyperspace, and promptly tore itself apart.

That had been two years ago. Christi had trained for XP-2 with pilot Bill Chiang and was to be his backup should he become incapacitated. What still gave her nightmares wasn’t the fact that she could have been the one killed, or that Bill’s body had never been recovered. It was the fact that pilots who ran shuttles to and from the mining colonies on Saturn’s moons reported that they could still hear his screams over their comm units months after the incident.

On the eve of his flight, a reporter interviewing Bill had asked him why a husband and father of four would attempt such a risky endeavor. Bill had replied in his usual to-the-point style.

"Risk is inconsequential. Each and every one of us is at risk every moment of our lives. You could step outside your home and get struck by lightning, or slip and break your neck in the shower. The only reason people take note of the risks on a mission like this is because it’s big news to everyone watching. Risk is all around us. The only time you’re truly safe is when you’re dead.

"Without risk, we wouldn’t be where we are today. The first life on Earth took the risk of venturing from the oceans to try life on land. Columbus risked disaster by crossing the Atlantic to the Americas. Armstrong risked leaving the safety of his lunar lander to walk on the moon. The risk we take with this mission, whether successful or not, will propel us, even marginally, toward the next stage of our evolution as a race.

Without risk, Bill summed up, we wouldn’t even exist. So there’s no point in worrying about the risk. It’s always been there. We just have to face it.

By the next afternoon, Bill would be dead, and the program, already teetering on the brink of being discontinued, was put on hold once more. More unmanned flights were run, all successful, with only minor glitches. Despite much controversy, construction had begun on the third, manned hyperspace ship. And Christi had been chosen as pilot.

And so now she sat in the cockpit of XP-3, waiting to face the risk. She had christened the ship the Yeager, thinking that using a real name, other than the ship’s technical designation, might bring her a touch more luck. In her younger years, Chuck Yeager had been her idol, and the reason she had become a test pilot in the first place. Inwardly she wondered if years from now, she might serve as the inspiration for future generations of space explorers.

As the countdown continued, she ran through her pre-flight checklist for the umpteenth time since she had climbed aboard. That damned fuel monitor light was still glowing red and she tapped it several times with her finger until it reverted to normal. State of the art, she mumbled aloud.

Her eyes fell upon the lenticular photo of her husband Graham and their four year old son Benjamin that she had wedged onto the instrument panel. Her checklist momentarily forgotten, Christi gazed into her son’s coffee brown eyes and had a flash of honest fear. The thought that something could go wrong and Benny would be left motherless was so great at that moment, she seriously thought of aborting the mission. To Hell with science, she thought. To Hell with knowledge and expanding human boundaries. I want to play ball with my boy.

T-minus ninety seconds, the voice of the controller aboard McKinley Station startled Christi from her inner ranting.

Confirm, Control, she replied, her voice shaky with the sudden surprise.

Despite her misgivings, she was still surprised to find her hands shaking as he brought the Wormhole Drive online, and knew it was not from the vibration of the engines. Closing her eyes, Christi drew in a deep breath. When she released it, her hands were steady once more.

The controller aboard McKinley called off the sixty-second mark. Christi’s hand unconsciously went to the crucifix she wore around her neck; the one Graham had given to her on their first anniversary. Though her flight suit and gloves blocked her from actually touching it, the pressure of it pressing against her breastbone was reassuring and gave her some degree of