Reading: The Mercy of Gods

Book 1 of The Captive’s War, a series by James S. A. Corey, published by Orbit in 2024

Science fiction through and through, the action begins on Anjiin, an Earth-like planet home to the humans in the story.

It’s a complex set-up saved from immediate confusion by a two page prologue introducing the Carryx, along with—it must be said—a bunch of exotic sounding people and planets that are not mentioned again.

Confusing. And yet, also on the first page, the speaker, the keeper-librarian of the human moiety of the Carryx, using just four words seems to summarize the plot.

But of course these authors (Yes, two authors now not really hiding anymore) using the one nom de plume. They wrote The Expanse an eight volume series that I enjoyed very much and apparently also wrote the screenplay for the TV series, also very good. Knowing their pedigree, I have expectations.

When I heard that they were starting another series, I wondered if they could repeat their success without repeating their worldbuilding? They covered a lot of ground in The Expanse I thought, and it’ll be hard to imagine another whole different universe.

I haven’t read a story for quite a while that takes nearly the whole volume to intro the protagonist. Though a bunch of humans make it in quite early in the piece, which thankfully gave me a few people I could relate to, they are not the primary characters.

Their names are similar but not the same as ‘our’ names. Dafyd is one of the humans. So is Campar. Night Drinkers are one of the alien groups.

There are maybe half a dozen alien tribes to get acquainted with, and they are much more alien than usual. Their various biologies are rendered in detail and I was reminded of their main features often enough that I could learn them.

There are re interpretations to get used to. Librarians are not the librarians we know. A medry … just does not ring a bell. A moiety is a term I last met in anthropology.

There’s much much more. Reading is ongoing.

8.48 pm … New Year’s Eve

What is everybody doing?

Lol, I’m at home. I just cleaned out the cat’s den and I fear she and I will be having a struggle at bed-time. A battle of wills where the Moggy-cat will try to convimce the old human to allow her to prance free.

Not going to happen.

I could go down to the Community centre and celebrate the coming of the New Year. Ring out the old and ring in the new. Something to do with church bells, I think. There’ll be mistletoe good cheer, alcohol and food.

Last time I was at a party I caught Covid.

And, you know, I’m over the swift progression of the years and the commercialized celebrations following one hard on the heels of the next. I will celebrate the coming year with a series of small but meaningful … maybe only to me but so be it … festivities. My resolution.

The joyful flowers bordering the community vegetable garden. A sea of basil in the background. And parsley nearly ready for harvesting to the right.

Wishing you a Happy New Year and a fabulous party if you’re celebrating!

💃🏼🎩🧞‍♀️🍇🍸🥳👒🤪😴🧌🧜🏿‍♀️🌂🦄🪼🐠🦚🦜

Patch, a Cat

Though on Sunday’s she likes to be called Opal. More thought and many more brush strokes will be needed to fix her bib.

It’s hard to believe how could some bits came out without trying too hard while others … with trying … just don’t make any kind of grade.

Printer Woes

Five years ago I bought the printer that was going to last me the rest of my time. A Canon Mega Tank Pixma which with its mega tanks is extremely cheap to run, said Lance Green, writer at RENEW Magazine.

Unfortunately I became ill before I even opened the box, and the thing stood unused for two years.

Finally I unpacked it and started printing the backlog. It was every bit as good as Lance Green said it was.

The ink that came with it lasted me for Two! Years! and I was able to top up the tanks twice with its 70 mls bottles.

All good things come to an end and a couple of months ago that ink ran out. I sent for a new set of bottles from the Ink Depot. Filled the tanks.

Could not make the printer work. I’m sure you already all know this thing we do when our tech refuses to work … first the troubleshooting. Not a sound out of it. Just the blinking lights.

Then the forum. OK, someone about ten years ago had the same pattern of lights blinking. Did anyone know what that meant. No answer to their post meant no to my question too.

Then the manual. Downloaded that, all 563 pages, and gloss through it for the pattern … on/off combined with ink supply light, 7 blinks fast 2 slow. Or the other way round.

The manual told me that was an xyz error … I’ve forgotten the number … and that the machine should be wrapped carefully and taken to the service people. No explanation!

I found a local fixer who might come to my house but that wasn’t going to happen. The call-out fee alone is over $100.

Back to the Web. That number had to mean something.

Finally, on an obscure Reddit forum, the meaning of the number …. Taraaaah! My machine needs a new ink drip pad or some such thing.

A brand new Canon MG3660 costs $67 this week! It uses cartridge ink. Fine by me.

The amount of running around needed to access sustainable resources, and the amount of energy to fuel the internet are themselves not sustainable.

PS I shall use the ink making art

Our Star: Sol, or the Sun

A few days ago I had the awe inspiring experience of ‘seeing’ the sun setting, and being able to see its full outline as seemingly about four times its normal size, it majestically descended through the city’s haze. All without going blind.

Being able to directly see the sun is a lifetime rarity usually only reserved for sun eclipses and the like, and viewing it through darkened glass. I’ve never witnessed a sun eclipse, never been in a geographic position where that was possible.

Six years ago, during the Australian bushfire emergency, I was at my sister’s place on the western side of a steepish hill as we watched an angry red sun outlined by bushfire smoke in the western sky. Though it was very small and looked even furter away than normal it looked like a warning.

Normally of course we only glance in its direction. We’re careful never to stare too long at that fierce golden globe. And we’re taught that from childhood, Don’t stare into the sun! You’ll go blind! And variations thereof in every language on Earth.

So I think that normally we don’t get a personal experience of how fiercesome our star is, or should be.

When I saw it a couple days ago, seemingly nearer and so big I wish everybody could see that. It would cure us of taking its benison for granted. That Sol is just our sun, that it gives us warmth and light, food and life.

A photo doesn’t do it justice, you need to see it yourself.

Weather Forecast …

A storm is forecast for 7.00 pm. At 5.10 pm don’t see much of it yet …

Just a breeze rising … the temperature is 30 degrees centigrade … and a faint weather front is getting pulled up the sky like an inverted window blind.

It’s still only 5.19 pm, not a lot of change yet

By 5.36 pm I’m starting to see layers in the cloud front and a thickening, though it’s still very high …

The clouds are rising out of the southwest moving very fast to double the speed of the Earth always turning east and to become the weather system on the east coast.

The wind lower down is said to be from the NNE (by the weather app on my mobile).

Cumulus thunder heads are starting to rise up on the horizon. Sunset isn’t for another forty-five minutes but the atmosphere is darkening as the cloud shuts out the sun.

Ibis are so far flying home individually from the fount of all goodies, the shopping mall’s garbage station.

5.55pm an hour away from sunset.

Cat Diary 25

I’ve been trying to tell how bored I am every night when the old woman shuts me in the den.

The carpet under the door is my nightly target. I’ve managed to strip out three lines of weaving. The old woman tells everyone she’ll be having someone in the install a metal strip. So I’m shredding carpet while I can.

But really I want to run and jump and play zoomies at night. I want to play on the balcony. I want my true freedom. But the old woman tricks me every night. She tosses a handful of kibble in my kibble bowl and I can’t resist them, you know?

Then she says, “Nighty-night.”

And she walks away.

I gobble up the kibbles and then start miaowing most pitifully. She doesn’t listen. Or she pretends her ears are made of steel … well, she says she steels herself not to hear me.

So far she hasn’t weakened and let me out.

Me, asleep on the back of the couch. I was furious with old woman when she took away my towel. I hissed and showed my teeth.

She was not impressed, she said. And she said sh’d be washing it.

Pardon me, I’m sure.