I've resubmitted Chapter 5 for two small typos:
- The courier's name should be "473". In one of the oldest typos in the history of bookkeeping machines and adding machines, my finger skipped a row and renamed it "476". (If two trys at adding a column of numbers is divisible by 3, you've probably made this error.)
- "ordnance", weapons. I had used "ordinance", a rule or law.
I am hoping to release a new Swarm Cycle story in the new year, one that investigates the backstory of just how William Whitefeather became a member of the Civil Service branch of the Armed Forces of the Confederacy. Until I do, I leave you with a Christmas-themed taste of the story, a chat between Whitefeather and the transport vessel T'kliktguul (aka Guildenstern).
"Friend William, I thank you for the compliment." The old ship paused for a beat, and added, "I would like to ask a question about Earth customs. Do you have a moment to discuss this?"
"Yes, friend Guildenstern, a brief moment."
"It is about this concept called 'Christmas'. Some of the dependants have expressed concern about this fictional figure they refer to by a variety of names such as 'Santa Claus', 'Kris Kringle' or 'Saint Nicholas'. I have received requests for assistance from the various pod AI, and from various parental units."
"Oh?" Whitefeather asked cautiously. "What kind of assistance?"
"Friend William, informational and advice." T'kliktguul's voice took on a professorial tone. "As the legend states, an aged, corpulent and hirsute male homo sapiens endowed with supernatural powers flies through the air in a rail-equipped unpowered transportation device towed by eight diminutive Rangifer tarandus around midnight local time three Terran days after the northern hibernal solstice. This cultural icon lands on the roof of the structure housing the younglings, magically inserts himself into the interior via a primitive combustion gas evacuation system and places endowments underneath a brightly-decorated example of the Pinaceae family and in hosiery placed out there for that express purpose. If the resident youngling has not met the cultural expectation of a 'good child', then a piece of anthracite is left in place of normal gifts to signify that the youngling in question has been registered on the 'naughty' codex." T'kliktguul paused for a beat. "I trust I have the general outlines of the tradition covered?"
"I think so...." Whitefeather cocked his head quizzically, wondering briefly what a Pinaceae was.
"Friend William, there are a number of issues, none of which have been resolved as this is the first Christmas that dependants have been off of Earth. First, this Santa Claus being fictional, apparently someone dons a suitable disguise. We therefore need someone to act the role."
"No issue there. We ask someone with no kids above the age of one in his pod to act as Santa. You have patterns for a Santa Claus suit?"
"I have several, in various degrees of realism. With your permission, I shall choose the most realistic."
Whitefeather nodded in satisfaction. "That works for me, friend Guildenstern. Next issue?"
"Friend William, you may have observed that the pods lack both roofs and primitive combustion gas evacuation systems, and have no direct access outside of my form. Further, as we are currently travelling faster than the speed of light, we are completely isolated from the universe. The younglings are demanding an explanation as to how this 'Santa' is going to board me and get into each pod."
"Let me think about that one..." Whitefeather responded as he pondered the situation.