Name: Dustin Fife
Genre:
New Adult Science Fiction
Title: The Nexus
Quincy Sturgess—dead. My wife and child—gone. Humanity is without intellect. What else must I suffer to atone for my careless comment? But I can’t give up. Quincy died for this.
Journal Entry from Gene “the Ancient,” dated four years after the Genetic Apocalypse.
July 12th, 2246
President Akram of the Malkum marched down the hallway, traveling with the vitality of a much younger man. People would guess him to be half his age. Or less, for the man was 243 years old. Frozen in time. An immortal among mortals.
He grazed the concrete walls with his fingertips. The florescent lights flickered and buzzed, and flickered and buzzed, like a damned firefly. Spencer Burton sat in a plastic chair in front of a door, munching on potato chips. Akram cleared his throat.
Spencer flinched, nearly spilling his bag of chips. Akram tightened his fist. After centuries, he grew tired of people like Spencer—men who coasted, waiting, reacting. Two-hundred years ago, when the world was at war, Akram acted—releasing the virus that crippled the intellect of those not vaccinated.
The world was quiet now. He had saved humanity.
Spencer stood with a grunt.
“Sir.”
Akram nodded toward the door. “Custodial closet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I assume you didn’t summon me to inspect maintenance records.”
“No, sir.”
Spencer waddled into the room. Akram followed, brushing aside cobwebs.
“Sorry about the dust.” Spencer hacked. “This room probably hasn’t been touched for centuries.”
Akram side-stepping a toppled shelf, empty cleaning bottles, and a desiccated mop. The stale air smelled of molding carpet and insect carcasses, garnished with a dash of mouse crap.
“I hope this has a point.”
“You’ll want to see this, sir.” Spencer pointed to the vent.
“A vent?”
“It’s what’s behind it that’s interesting.”
Spencer fumbled with the gridded cover before dropping it with a clank. “Sorry,” he muttered under his breath. Wiping his face with his shoulder, he shone a flashlight down a dirt tunnel.
Akram crouched, and cocked his head. The light disappeared into darkness. “What the hell?”
“It’s about 100 yards long. It leads to a room with computers, electrical cords, blueprints,” Spencer wheezed, “journal entries. But the strangest thing was the newspaper clippings. These clippings—they’re centuries old.”
Akram raised an eyebrow.
“And…” Spencer grabbed a spiral-bound notebook. The wires were bent, and the cover had nearly separated from the binding. The faded ink bled into the yellowed pages. Spencer thumbed through the book and pointed to text.
April 18th, 2042. The rebellion begins.
Akram blinked. Sergeant Drakes—had he been right after all? The man possessed evidence of a rebellion—one that began shortly after Akram released the virus—one that had remained dormant.
Until now.
For weeks, Malkum soldiers had combed the planet for these rebels, based on nothing more than Drakes’s testimony. But this tunnel changed everything.
“It seems that Sergeant Drakes was right,” said Spencer. “After his…you know…we started searching the compound and found this.”
Akram shook his head. It couldn’t be. The whole story was too unlikely. And he’d worked too damned hard to see the world fall to ruins again. Another rebellion meant more war, and more war meant death.
He thought of those he’d chosen to forget. Over centuries, the sting of their deaths hadn’t diminished—Paul, Jeanine, Skyler.
And Adam Gianni.
Ancient friends and family members who had died in the war—killed by weapons developed using his damned research.
War wouldn’t come again.
His mobile rang. It was his secretary. Akram looked at his watch. 8:05. Dammit.
“Hello?” he said.
“Mr. President, I’m calling to remind you—”
“Yes, I know.” Akram rubbed his eyes. “Cancel my meeting with the council. Apologize for my absence.”
His secretary paused. “Uh…sir?”
“Tell them something urgent has come up.” Akram hung up. There would be hell to pay later. His relationship with the council was already precarious. But this was far more important than petty politics.
Akram stood. “How long have you known about this?”
“Couple days.”
“Why haven’t I heard anything before?”
“We…” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “We wanted to be sure.”
Akram’s eye twitched. As Spencer shifted his weight, he resembled an elephant side-stepping a rodent.
Akram charged toward the hallway. “Where’s Sergeant Drakes?”
Spencer followed, struggling to keep up. “H-he’s been detained. At level one, sir.”
“I want to see him. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“In the mean time, search the tunnel and room for anything that will help us hunt down this rebel group. Do a background check on everyone who worked here 200 years ago. Search security personnel, scientists, janitors, everything. And double the number of men searching for this rebel group.”
“Um sir, I believe we’ve exhausted recruits from Fahrquan.”
“Then recruit outside Fahrquan.” Akram stopped walking, bending toward Spencer. “I want a hundred choppers in the sky in one hour.”
Akram turned and marched down the hallway.
“President?”
Akram stopped and lifted his head without turning to face him.
“Sir, did you want us to destroy the tunnel?”
“No. Let them think their secret is safe.”
Cole lay on the grass, gazing at the rising sun. The orange light peaked over the evergreens, casting long shadows across the meadow. He inhaled the crisp morning air. Something hummed in the distance—like cicadas, only deeper. And more ominous.
But what—?
Suta jumped on his back.
“Get up, Coe.”
Cole grinned. “It’s Cole. Collllllllllla.”
“Coe…la.”
“No. Colllll.”
“Coe…” The boy cleared his throat. “…el.”
“Close enough.” Cole spun and lifted the little villager. The boy giggled.
“Wets count,” Suta said.
Cole chuckled. “You wanna count, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Suta hovered above him. The sunlight reflected off his green eyes and illuminated his olive skin in warm light. Like the rest of the villagers, dirt caked his tattered clothes.
“Alright,” Cole turned to lay face-down. “Let’s count.”
The boy jumped on his back. Not for the first time, Cole half-regretted teaching the boy to count this way. It had been fine when he could only count to ten.
But now?
“You ready?” Cole asked.
The boy wrapped his arms around Cole’s neck.
“Not too tight,” Cole said. His voice sounded like a frog with a cold.
“Go!”
Cole began doing pushups.
“One. Two. Free.”
Suta giggled. “Faster, faster!”
“I’m getting tired, buddy.”
“Seven. No yer not. Eight. Nine.”
“It hurts!” Cole said.
The boy giggled. “Tenty. Tenty one. Tenty two.”
“Twenty,” Cole shouted.
“Tee-wenty free. Tee-wenty four.”
Sweat dripped from his face.
Never once had Cole failed the boy—as high as he could count, that’s the number of pushups he did. But Suta was learning to count faster than Cole’s body could keep up.
“Fody-free. Fody-four. Fody-five.”
Cole would wait a bit until he taught him to count by two’s and three’s. He paused at the top of his pushup.
“Go wazy bones.”
Cole laughed.
“Seventy-one. Seventy-two…”
Cole gasped. How high would the boy go today?
“Jump it!” the boy said.
Cole leapt with his hands, clapping between pushups.
“Seventy-nine…” The boy paused. “Ummm…”
“You can do it, buddy.”
“Eight-deeeeeeeee.”
Cole laughed. The boy knew the pattern—another ten pushups would be guaranteed.
“Eighty-nine!” Suta clapped. “You take a break now.”
Cole collapsed to the ground. The boy had done it.
It was quite a milestone. None of the adult villagers made it past five, and even then they were probably guessing.
But Suta—that boy was different. Somehow he’d escaped the effects of the Genetic Apocalypse. Soon, they’d have to start hiding the boy from the Malkum raids. His intelligence was becoming more visible—dangerously visible.
First Five Pages Writing Workshop: Jump Start Your Novel and Career
Hi Dustin! I really love the details you added, and I like the small changes you made to give us just a bit more information. I also really like the last two paragraphs of Cole’s scene. I knew you could make it there without taking away anything, and you executed this perfectly. Here are some things I think you could do to delve the reader deeper into your story, though in a way this is just me being nitpicky :)
ReplyDeleteThe florescent lights flickered and buzzed, and flickered and buzzed, like a damned firefly. * Spencer Burton* sat in a plastic chair in front of a door, munching on potato chips.
*Here, I think you could add one more sentence. You say that Spencer is sitting in front of “a” door, but you I don’t know which. You could add something like, “He stepped inside the open door at the end of the hall. Spencer Burton sat in a plastic chair in front of a desk, munching on potato chips.”
*Who IS Spencer Burton? What’s his job? I’d like a sense of who he is in relation to Akram so I can understand why he’s asking a seeming tech-boy to arrange a meeting with Drakes and call for a full-scale search party.
After centuries, he grew tired of people like Spencer—men who coasted, waiting, reacting. * Two-hundred years ago, when the world was at war, Akram acted—releasing the virus that crippled the intellect of those not vaccinated.
*Every time I read this, my instinct is to change “coasted” to “coasting” or change “waiting, reacting” to “waited, reacted.” The mismatching verbs seems to be an oversight. Also, I think the parallel here between Spencer and Akram isn’t laid out quite as plainly as it could. It feels like you’re doing a waltz around what you really want to say for the sake of not repeating yourself. You could try something like: “men who coasted, waited, then reacted. Two hundred years ago, when the world was at war, Akram only reacted, then he would’ve never released the virus that crippled the intellect of those not vaccinated.” A little more lengthy (but I think you could fix this, you seemingly have a deft hand at being concise), but connects two ideas of reacting vs. acting a little better. (Also, two hundred isn’t hyphenated.)
Akram nodded toward the door. “Custodial closet?”
*In this particular exchange with Akram and Spencer, I feel like there’s some information that could be relayed to the reader without being too much of an info-dump or an As-You-Know-Bob. When I first read this line, I thought Akram was inviting Spencer into the custodial closet to have more privacy. Now, I get the sense that Spencer’s summon for Akram had included something about the custodial closet, but I’ve also had the opportunity to read this opening several times now. I feel like you could add something like, “Is this the custodial closet you wanted me to look at?” Or something similar. Just something that calls attention to what exactly is supposed to be going on.
Spencer pointed to the vent.
Where is the vent? Guide us through the custodial closet a little more. “Spencer pointed to the vent to the right of a shelf of bleach.”
Spencer grabbed a spiral-bound notebook.
Where is this notebook coming from? His pocket?
In Cole’s scene, there’s less content for me to pick on :) I think you could lose the lines about the helicopters because they don’t add any tension or conflict—that comes in the last few paragraphs.
In a more general sense, I feel like there are bits of dialogue that you don’t need, like Akram saying, “a vent?” You’d save time if Spencer points to it then just says, as if anticipating Akram’s reaction, “it’s what’s behind it that’s interesting.” Again, when Akram says, “What the hell?” I say just skip right to Spencer explaining what it is. When he answers his phone, I don’t think he has to greet his secretary, and I don’t think the secretary has to say a word since Akram seems to know what his secretary is calling about. Have him answer his phone with, “Cancel my meeting.”
On the other hand, sometimes I think you miss opportunities for us to be inside Akram’s head more. When Spencer is explaining, Akram just raises an eyebrow. What does that mean? Is he doubtful? Is he intrigued? Does he wish Spencer would stop wheezing and start explaining more? When Spencer shows Akram the notebook, he blinks. Is he confused? Shocked? For most of Akram’s actions, I just don’t know what they mean. I don’t mean for you to necessarily tell us what he’s feeling, I just wish his actions gave readers more of an idea of what’s going on in his head.
ReplyDeleteWith Cole, I would’ve liked to hear more from him about Suta. When the kid jumps on his back, or even when he attempts to say Cole’s name properly, Cole could tell us who Suta is to him. Is he a kid that he favors? Babysits? Just tutors? Is he the son of the family he’s staying with? Or the son of neighbor? Did his parents ask Cole to see if he was smart/assess his intelligence out of fear? Give this relationship some genuine connection. Also, when Suta jumps on his back, you could tell us if he’s well-fed or not in a subtle way, which tells us more about the village.
I feel like there’s a bit of repetition that could be cut in the Cole scene. When Cole is thinking about half-regretting that he taught the boy to count, his thought is “But now?” This would be a great transition if you weren’t going to show us how high Suta can count, but you do show us, so I don’t think you need these two words. Suta jumps on Cole’s back twice. Suta giggles, Cole chuckles, Suta giggles again, Suta giggles one more time, Cole laughs, Cole laughs again. They only need to smile and laugh once to get the point across that they’re happy and having fun.
Other than the above suggestions, there are so many things in here that are fantastic.
President Akram of the Malkum marched down the hallway, traveling with the vitality of a much younger man. People would guess him to be half his age. Or less, for the man was 243 years old. Frozen in time. An immortal among mortals.
This whole paragraph reads so well to me. It really sets the tone of voice for Akram’s scene, and it contrasts so well with the Cole and Suta’s scene which is alive with youth.
He grazed the concrete walls with his fingertips. The florescent lights flickered and buzzed, and flickered and buzzed, like a damned firefly.
This bit of added detail does wonders for your worldbuilding. Suddenly, I know what this place looks like. The concrete and the fluorescents work well with the mobile phone and the helicopters in a way that informs the reader about where we are in this post-apocalyptic world. Great job.
While the others may not like Akram, I still do. I’m always fascinated by characters like his—stoic, judgmental, someone who believes they’re doing the best for people and don’t care about the consequences.
I also like Cole and Suta. You do an amazing job in a short amount of time of making them both likeable and relateable. I like that this scene is active and yet still delivers a fair amount of characterization.
None of the adult villagers made it past five, and even then they were probably guessing.
This is a brilliant line.
But Suta—that boy was different. Somehow he’d escaped the effects of the Genetic Apocalypse. Soon, they’d have to start hiding the boy from the Malkum raids. His intelligence was becoming more visible—dangerously visible.
This paragraph is amazing, too. It’s a great place to end this at.
I hope this helps, as nitpicky as it is. Some if it may really just be a matter of style. I’m definitely a wordier writer than you are, and that’s fine. But as someone who sees opportunities to make each sentence do as much work as possible, I thought I could pass along some suggestions here and there for you to take at your whim.
Good luck with this! You’ve already gone so far with it, I know you can take it to the next level. Thank you for all of the amazing feedback you've given me, and always so fast. Your comments were extremely helpful :)
Hi Dustin,
ReplyDeleteI don’t know if it’s that I’ve now read your piece several times, or if it’s just clearer, but it’s SO much clearer to me now. I think that the balance of background information and the current action is really well done at this point. I also think that the stakes are clearer. The intrigue about what happened in the past, how Akram was involved, and how lives are going to intersect really pulls readers in. Nice job.
A couple of things
1. I still want to connect to Akram more—maybe just a little inner thinking could help that. You’ve started…I definitely feel his frustration and remorse. I’m just not sure whether to like him, and I’m looking to…
I wonder about tucking something into this section—maybe instead of he thought, have Akram do something that inspires more empathy. Tears are too obvious, but the bitter taste of memory, maybe? It’s a potentially powerful passage, but several of the verbs are weak, linking or passive.
Akram shook his head. It couldn’t be. The whole story was too unlikely. And he’d worked too damned hard to see the world fall to ruins again. Another rebellion meant more war, and more war meant death.
He thought of those he’d chosen to forget. Over centuries, the sting of their deaths hadn’t diminished—Paul, Jeanine, Skyler.
And Adam Gianni.
Ancient friends and family members who had died in the war—killed by weapons developed using his damned research.
War wouldn’t come again.
2. I wondered about an opportunity to connect with Akram here:
“Tell them something urgent has come up.” Akram hung up. There would be hell to pay later. His relationship with the council was already precarious. But this was far more important than petty politics.
Maybe he could envision his secretary—that might show an empathetic side to him which would help readers connect.
3. Loved the tucking in of intrigue about Drakes…I definitely want to know what Spencer is alluding to!
“It seems that Sergeant Drakes was right,” said Spencer. “After his…you know…we started searching the compound and found this.”
4. The scene with Cole is much stronger. I still think that you could eliminate some of the counting, but I really liked the way you linked the two scenes with the helicopters. Also LOVED the last lines—so suggestive of major stakes and a great cliffhanger.
Thank you so much for all of the feedback and wisdom you have shared about writing. I would be happy to continue to read your work, beyond the FFP workshop!
Good luck-
Melanie
Hi Dustin,
ReplyDeleteYou’ve worked so hard on this and it shows. Fabulous job! The stakes are very clear, as is what the protagonist and antagonist both want. Now that you’ve done a great job with the structure/story problem/setting I am going to focus on the minor issues.
We know it is the future by the journal – so really bring it home from the beginning, and give us a better sense of setting. For example, does just touching the concrete turn on lights? Give us a clearer sense of place so that we can visualize it. At first I thought it was a space ship.
I didn’t love this paragraph: “Spencer flinched, nearly spilling his bag of chips. Akram tightened his fist. After centuries, he grew tired of people like Spencer—men who coasted, waiting, reacting. Two-hundred years ago, when the world was at war, Akram acted—releasing the virus that crippled the intellect of those not vaccinated.” I love this information, but could you find a better way to tell us? It feels like a bit of info dump here – I think you can weave it in better.
Drake was confusing to me. Why does he suddenly think the rebellion is active? Either give us a bit more, or a bit less. I love that Akram is not one dimensional – we see him from the get go feeling both loss and guilt, which humanizes him.
Great job bringing in the helicopters sooner! It immediately sets a dangerous tone. I love, love, love the new ending. We see what is at stake, the main story issue, and how the characters will collide. I still think there is far too much dialogue in this scene, you can cut the counting quite a bit and still get your point across. I found myself glazing over the counting, and you don’t want to lose your reader in these first 5 pages.
Overall, great revisions! I wish you the best of luck!
I like the idea there - the virus that eliminates intelligence. Nice.
ReplyDeleteHonestly, I did not connect though until you got to Cole. That's where I really sat up and took notice. I LIKE him which is so very important. So, with that in mind, I'd suggest either taking out the part with Akram earlier all together, or making it much, much shorter just to set up the situation. You can go back to Akram again later if you must. Now, if this is a dual POV, I want to connect with Akram a lot more. I need to understand who he is better as a person. In that first section it actually feels like you're omniscient and not third person closed, which I'd recommend. The reader should be as close to the main character as possible.
That's my two cents! Great work.