The day is drawing to a close. The thin night air is fresh with the smell of wild grass and wet dew. A black shoe rests comfortably atop the ground. It’s made of the best material, as yet unknown to man.
A figure looks up at a great Tower, admiring with all his might how such a tower came to be so lucky to hold such a historical figure.
The sound of blades moving very quickly through the air announces the arrival of his partner, and with a flash of white light he appears, dressed in the same clothes, minus a bowler hat.
The second figure approaches the Tower, looking up at it with equal admiration.
“Beautiful, isn’t it Cornelius?” asks the first Man.
Cornelius brings around a cane made of oak, and rests his palms on it. “I do say it is.. Though it’s not worth my time looking. Come, we have work that needs to be finished.”
It’s not 11:59, its 11:57. Do take your time, will you? What’s the point of living if you can’t enjoy yourself?” says the first man.
“That” starts Cornelius, “is the point. And you well know it. Come on, the less time you waste, the more lives we can save. Plus, memory restoration is hard enough without having Angela do it by herself.”
“Oh? Is she awake then?”
“Ungluing as we speak. Angela’s been a natural at this for a very long time, since… Oh, I forget. Either way, shall we hurry?”
“No. I refuse to be a slave to this life of ours. I shall wait but another minute.”
Cornelius brings about his left arm and pulls back the sleeve.
“Come now, its 11:58. Suppose something goes wrong? Why take the chance Fred?”
“Anything that goes wrong can be fixed. You should be aware of this; it’s what we do.”
“Oh, I am fully aware. I just don’t want more work that needs to be done in the morning. Stopping Nazi’s is no easy work, you know?”
“Yes, I know, but it’s too bad. I’m living. Go back and wait if you like” Fred was getting irritable
Cornelius stood in silence.
“Do you suppose she really tried to escape that thing? From so far up?” Fred spoke to himself, though taunting Cornelius into a conversation they had had three too many times.
“You know she did. You can ask her yourself when we get back if you don’t believe me. But she didn’t at some points, and was never here at others. You know it, I know it.”
“But that’s the point! What if she didn’t at some point, and was never here at others. You know it, I know it.”
“But that’s the point! What if she didn’t? Would we be standing here? Would we be doing what we do?”
“No one ever knows Fred. Ten seconds.”
“Ten seconds.” Repeated Fred.
The Tower loomed over them both as if a teacher instructing her students as to why they are here, and not in class reading books about the how’s and why’s things are.
“Five seconds. I’m gone Fred.” And with that same sound of blades moving very quickly through the air and a flash of white light, Cornelius vanished leaving an empty space next to Fred.
“Always rushing. We shouldn’t. If history teaches us anything, it’s that we shouldn’t rush.”
Fred Cornelius’s watch beeped at 11:59, 1412. And with that same sound and light vanished on the spot to a place five hundred and eighty-seven years away.
Fred appeared on Space Station 11091 in a room full of bright white and blue lights, dangling cords of all sorts, and steam rising from the metal grates on the walls in huge amounts. He checked his watched: 11:59 1999. Space Station 11091 wasn’t built until 3611. Fred and Cornelius had traveled back to 1999, where constant fear of the Year Two Thousand (Y2K) Computer Bug kept the Government away from learning about their Station and its purpose with Mirror Shielding technology from 2090.
“Fred! Come on! You’re always cutting it short!” shouted a female voice from ahead of him through the steam.
“Coming Angela!” Fred shouted back, starting in her direction from under dangling electrical lines.
Some would come to call it a Travel outlet, though it certainly wasn’t, and even more would call it Heaven and Hell, though it certainly wasn’t either. Inside Station 11091, mass Vats for Growing humans remained suspended in the air and on the ground. Computer stations for Traveling, Growth, Mirror Shielding Technology and Life Support swarmed the walls and open spaces. It mimics Underground-Government design in the sense of having everything cramped together in a small area.
“Ready Angela?” asked Cornelius beside her, tying something into what barely resembled a computer but certainly was.
“Of course. I’ve been ready for a few days now.”
“And you decided to wait for us? My we do have quite a polite lady today. Alright, begin the Information Transplant.”
Angela heads for a different console and presses a single button. “Information Sent” blinks in red on the screen ahead of her.
“How’s the body?” asks Fred. “I hope it’s not tarnished. I’d hate to have a disfigured woman walking around.”
“It’s already been seen. The body is fine.” Said Cornelius, who was busy reading a chart on the wall which changed rapidly in an array of powerful blues, yellows and reds.
“Its’ been aged twenty years, as protocol dictates to avoid any Doubles walking around, of course.”
Fred mused over this a moment. The first time someone saw their double walking around it started a war that hadn’t been predicted by Station 11091. A messy clean up.
“12:01 Fred. We’re late.”
“Nonsense. We’re right on time as usual.”
“Never forget what happened on the Moses expedition Fred. Fires raging in the Cells and in our beds! We lost little but it could have been disastrous! All because you miscalculated by one minute, forty-five seconds!”
“But it wasn’t” said Angela, who had grown tired of their bickering over the years. “Phase Two in Sixty seconds. Then we can talk to her in…” she checked her screen “three days.”
“Excellent.” Said Fred, who couldn’t help but beam into Cornelius’s face. “I’ll just be leaving then. See you in three days Cornelius, Angela.”
“Three days then, Fred.” Replied Cornelius.
“Be sure to shake her hand.” Added Angela.
“I will” Fred lifted the sleeve on his other arm, which contained a holographic 3D blue print of a Calendar showing the Days, Years, and Times. “What’s today?”
Angela and Cornelius both gave him a look of disapproval.
“No time for jokes, eh? Very well then.” And with that, Fred punched in the third day and vanished in that strange blade filled sound and flash of white light.
“Three days? Shouldn’t it be two?” asked Cornelius.
“It should be two, but it doesn’t matter. These bodies survive long enough. An extra day won’t kill her.”
“It shouldn’t, no. Should we take a look or wait for the results?”
Angela gave him the same look she gave Fred.
“Don’t blame me now, I’m just trying to perfect.”
“And that will be your undoing.”
“I’ll be sure it won’t. G’night, Angela.”
“G’night, Cornelius Fred.” And with that, Angela vanished in that same wind as Fred, followed by Cornelius.
Down below the Station, the body of Jeanne d’Arc was transferred by robotic bed to a holding cell, where bodies where given nutrition and water through an IV to keep them alive and enough entertainment to keep it occupied. Jeanne slept for the next day.
A knock on the cell, on the third, day woke her.
“Who-Who is it?” she called, scrambling the corner in a giant grey T-shirt commonly called Hoofs. She wasn’t expecting a knock. The only times she woke in the last two days was when Service Bots came to refill her IC, and they barged in without respect for the occupant inside.
“Fred Cornelius, of Station 11091. I’d like a word Jeanne d’Arc, or can I call you Joan It’s so much easier to be on a first name basis.” He tried to sound cheerful, and succeeded.
Jeanne considered it a moment before getting up. “Come in. And yes, you may.” She hurriedly added.
“Excellent.” Fred opened the door, which wasn’t really so much a door as a solid projection that vanished when a physical object wished entrance.
“Welcome Joan! May I shake your hand?”
Joan merely extended hers, shaking his when he brought it around. She had a limp grip and didn’t give feeling in the handshake.
“We’ll have to work on that. In either case, please sit down. May I?” Fred gestured to a spot on the floor.
“Please.” Joan staggered to sit down, feeling shaky and trembling slightly.
“Oh my, are you cold? We can turn up the heat. I swear we don’t take body heat scans nearly enough now-a-days.”
“No, I’m f-fine. Just a little… Jittery?”
“Jittery? How do you feel? Ok?”
“My, my words are different.”
“Oh yes! I’d forgotten about that. We gave you an updated vocabulary. Along with a few other things for the trip. Don’t worry; you’ll be just fine with the advancements we’ve made.”
“How is this? How am I here?”
“That, Joan, is partly why I cam here. I cam to explain what I’m permitted, and a little of what I’m not.”
She shook her head back and forth a little.
“To answer your question, I must ask one first.” Fred leaned to her a bit. “Joan, you remember how you died?”
She bobbed her head up and down slowly.
“Ok. Now understand, we are scientists. That is, we study People and Time and adjust accordingly. You are not yourself. You died. You remember. Now the important thing here is to not get scared. You are very much alive and as we’ve installed in your memory you are not in Heaven or Hell. You are on a Space Station. That is, a place far above your planet. The reason why we haven’t given you the information as to why you’re here and what your going to do, is twofold:
The first reason is that I enjoy talking almost as much as I love traveling-“
Joan gave a small smirk at this.
“The second being: It’s better to hear, as you’ll take it much better. You’re going to deliver something to your Burning, and leave it there. This small tag here-“Fred grabbed a small red Item bearing the Nazi emblem from his pocket. “See? You’re going to deliver it for us. Don’t worry, it won’t catch fire.
Now you may be wondering as to why we don’t deliver it ourselves-“
“I am” she said quickly.
“Good! Good that is wonderful. Well the reason is simple: We can’t be seen. That is, if someone were to recognize us, we’d be royally screwed. It could destroy all we’ve worked so hard on.”
“And that is?” asked Joan quietly.
“That’s one of those things I can’t tell you. Though I can tell you a bit more-“
(Joan was still shaking)
“Oh dear. Nervous are we? Why yes, I imagine so. Dear me, I’ve only done this a few times, here, take one of these.” Fred handed her a small pill.
Joan looked at it suspiciously.
“I haven’t hurt you yet, have I?”
She accepted the pill, and swallowed it quickly. “I don’t like knowing all the things I do. What is pill really? What is Space Station but home in the Sky?-“
“Space” corrected Fred.
“No. Sky. I like my word better.”
“Indeed. The reason we can’t be seen is again twofold: if we were to be spotted, all we have created could be lost, or give greater power. The second being: we really don’t know what would happen. It’s never happened before.”
“So I am to go back? Back to be burned?”
“No no! Oh my have I confused you terribly! No, you are to go back and ‘plant’ this in the hay used to burn you. That’s it.”
Joan twiddled her fingers nervously. “H-how do I get back?”
Fred gave her a stern look. “You leave that to us. Rest assure, Joan, we have never left anyone behind before. But accidents do happen and are a reality here.”
“Why can’t you-“she searched her vocabulary “Why can’t you just fix it without me?”
“Because you are a fighter Joan! You can get the job done! Anyone else will fail, and trust me, we have tried. One of our accidents actually involve a mismatch with some of your clothes while you were in-“
“The Tower?” she asked hastily. “That was your fault!”
“Now now calm down, we don’t play the blame game here. It was an accident, remember? We tried someone else, and they failed.” Though in a different experiment from yours, he added to himself.
“I needed those clothes. I died burning because-“
“You cannot live the past now Joan. We are not here to debate whether or not My Community and its actions are guilty of anything. We are trying to help the world, as you did Joan. Only on a much larger scale.”
“You lie. It cannot be true of what you say-“
A knock then, on the door.
“Come in!” shouted Joan, her nerves getting the better or her.
“Oh Fred! You’re here already. I’d thought you’d gone to get some food first. Too bad really, I was really hoping I would get a crack at her first-“
“Wow!” shouted Joan, standing again, touching Cornelius’s face with her hands.
“You two are the same! The same!”
“Er, is something wrong with her Fred?” asked Cornelius.
“Not from what I or our scans can tell. She’s just a bit in awe I guess.”
Cornelius moved to sit by his Clone, pointing for Joan to sit down.
“How is this possible? Never on the battlefield have I seen or outside of it something as strange as seeing-“
“Two alike?” asked Fred, who had been apart of conversations like this too many times to count; each with its own twist that he enjoyed, but rather found dull and boring in the end.
“Got her hair right, that’s for sure. I was afraid That Vat wouldn’t be able to handle such small details.” Said Cornelius, eying her short hair.
“I always wear my hair short” Joan looked slightly puzzled before realizing what they were talking about and recalling her new memory.
“Vat! I was grown! I’m not human! An abomination to our Lord God-“
“No no no no! Please no Jeanne, you were born, not grown. Listen to me what I say-“but she cut Cornelius short. ”Grown! Unnatural!”
“’Pesty Conversation’” said Fred, and Joan calmed down considerably. She felt woozy and lightheaded.
“What did you, you do?” she asked, slumping to the ground.
“It’s something in your blood. It calms you down when you hear the words.”
“W-wow…” Joan dozed in and out of sleep for a few minutes. In which time Fred explained to Cornelius that she was to be called ‘Joan’ instead of her other name, to make her feel separate and untied from her former life.
“Does she know why she was born Fred?” he asked his Clone. He himself couldn’t stand to tell any grown creature their purpose in life.
“Yes, she took it aright. She wants to know how she will be able to come back, instead of rather how she’s going to get their.”
“Do you think she knows already?”
“Most likely. She’s just confused at the moment. She has always been a smart and skilled woman.” Fred got up to wake up Joan more fully. “Joan, listen. I have to go. I have work that needs to be done very soon and I can’t waste a moment. I’ll see you on your return trip to the station, okay?”
Joan only gave a small roll of her head to acknowledge him.
“Good. Cornelius, will you be joining me?”
“Yes, I think I will. You already told her what she needs. I’ll give her drugs for rest and I’ll be on my way.”
Fred vanished with a slashing in the wind and that bright white light.
Angela was busy at a Vat station containing a body partially completed. Peering over it with a high-magnifying glasses she counted the small wrinkles on the figures face.
“Working hard?” asked Fred.
“What day is it, Fred?”
“If you’re asking whether or not I’ve gone back in time since going to see Joan, yes.”
Angela turned her head to get a better look of him. “And? Will she do it?”
“It’s not a question of whether or not she will. She will whether she wants to or not.”
“I meant if, ah…” Angela searched for the right words, tossing her head back and sliding off her glasses “If this Joan of Arc would take the assignment you and your clone has set forth. Yes, that’s right.”
“I don’t know. But this one will have to do. Regardless of the results, the Item will be delivered in time for Prophecy.”
“I don’t understand Fred. Why the urgency?” inquired Angela.
“I just don’t enjoy mistakes and needing to go back to fix what shouldn’t have gone wrong is all, Angela.”
She took off her lab coat, gloves and protective boots. “How long have we known each other Fred? How long have you and your clone been with me? How many times have we had this conversation? Tell the truth Fred, less we develop onto unfriendly living conditions.” She accented her point by popping the lid of preserved water; drinking most of it in a single gulp.
“There is nothing wrong, Angela, if that’s what you are-“
“Enough.” She drew from her back a small operating knife and closed the distance between Fred and herself to less then three feet. “The truth, or one of us will lose our life.” The blade was small and delicate, but Angela’s past history of aggressively getting what she wants (the reason behind her cloning) put Fred off ease and onto defense.
“Don’t be silly. You won’t use that thing. First of all it’s not your style. You prefer blades of nine to twelve inches.” He gave her an un—budging look and folded his arms. “You wouldn’t dare.” He added with a smirk.
Angela proved herself by lunging the blade into his left arm.
“Impressive. You really do believe something is wrong despite me telling you otherwise?” Angela recollected a clone’s body. Twenty-three seconds of life once a leak starts.
19
“Yes, I do.”
18
“Very well. Something is wrong. Station 11091 is falling apart.”
14
How do we stop it?”
12
“We can’t. I’ve tried in all possible periods. We’re royally screwed on this one.”
7
“You’ve discussed this with Cornelius?”
4
“No. He doesn’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way. If you don’t mind, he’s best in the dark for now.”
“You’re not dead. What’s happened?”
“Glitch.” And with that, Fred died; slumping onto the ground while falling to his side, taking with him a few precious items that Angela had worked on prior to most of the day.
Angela stepped over Fred’s body to the main Console. She checked the Station’s main computing folder. Fred was right. Not only was the Station doomed for disaster, but there was no way to fix it. He had left detailed logs of his attempts at salvation, but to no real help being the Station had approximately nineteen hours left.
She recollected her memory. Joan of Arc still needed to get back without any trouble. Though they had plenty of time she feared the worst. She pressed a small intercom button: “Cornelius Fred to Vat, Cornelius Fred to Vat A.S.A.-“
Cornelius showed up instantly with a flash, appearing a second before she finished saying the ‘P’.
“What is it Angela? What’s happened?” Cornelius took in the scene, gasping in shock at his clone’s body.
“Who did this? I demand to know!”
“I did. We have a problem.”
Cornelius pressed a small button on his sleeve coat, and instantly became relaxed. “I trust you had a good reason.”
“Fred had deceived us. We have nineteen hours before this place looks like an asteroid hit it.”
“Impossible. He would have warned us long ago should something go-“Cornelius went to the computer, where he found Angela’s findings.
“So we’ll go back in time and fix it before it becomes unsalvageable. We can do it. No problem, simple as taking the wrapper off candy.”
Angela Brought up the security camera record and replayed what had happened before Fred’s demise.
After a moment, Cornelius left control of his body and fell to the ground.
“Holy Mother, I can not believe what I have seen with my own eyes! Angela, we must check for ourselves. We cannot allow Station 11091 to cease to exist. We have too much left to do. Too much have we failed to accomplish!”
“Joan has –as I have feared- to go now, Cornelius. We can have another Fred Cornelius ready in ten hours. We’ll send them both at the same time. We can save what we have accomplished here without ruining history-“
“No. Absolutely not. Fred would go back and kill you and deceive me again to create a different future. We can’t trust him with something like this without supervision. That’s why we have the Three Rule. Two to watch what the Third does-, wait, what do you mean ‘You’ve feared’-“
“So clone yourself Cornelius! It matters not to me which of us gets the game. Station 11091 needs to survive-“
“We cannot trust anyone without supervision-“And the Cornelius had it.
“We’ll send Joan back. We’ll send her with the information.”
“Are you serious? She’ll ruin things far worse then any of us-“
“She won’t know! We’ll disguise it as something of un-importance.”
“Bloodstream.” Angela spoke her immediate thought.
“It won’t survive. It’s too long before 1999 for it to survive.”
“Well upgrade it. We can do it!”
A moment passes.
“Fred was right, it can’t be done.” Cornelius sharply conceded.
“We have to try. Anything is better then nothing.”
“We will not. We have existed like all living beings, and now we will die like all living beings.”
Angela gave Cornelius a look of incredible disappointment. “You would rather die?” she stepped closer.
“Yes. It is the law of Nature. Despite our tries of fixing it it will succeed in fixing itself. I am confidant in it.” He gave her a reassuring look.
“You’re sure?” she stepped closer still, closing the gap to less then three feet.
“Positive. Come now, we must prepare Joan for the final journey-“he turned around the, and stopped. Realizing Angela’s distance, he vanished in a terrible slashing of the wind and a bright white light.
Cornelius reappeared at the Tower (1412) and ran some ten feet for cover before stopping. Gasping he checked his back for a wound. He brought his hands back to find blood.
“Oh Mother no. This cannot be.”
Station 11091 -13:58 read the computer screen Angela was leaning over. She had stabbed Cornelius in the back as he vanished. A small amount of blood on the ground confirmed he had been hit. Angela had prepared the Station’s Time-Traveling documents into a small computer chip which she packed in her back pocket.
She would take Joan herself, come back in time to save what she could of the Vats, and abandon ship at the last possible moment. She had already prepared two bodies to be grown in the Vats matching Fred Cornelius’s and Cornelius Fred’s most recent memories.
She prepared three more Vats.
Racing down the corridor she came to Joan’s room, where she found her laughing as she passed in and out of the door way.
“Miss! Miss look! Isn’t this fantastic? It’s solid yet… Passable at the same time!” Joan was having the most fun anyone Angela had ever seen grown.
“Take this Jeanne d’Arc.” Angela tossed her the red patch. “It is very important that you leave it-“
“I know, in the fire. Fred and Cornelius have instructed me on my mission-“but Angela had turned the corner and ran past Joan in a hurry, not hearing the rest of what she had to say.
“Nice to meet you! God bless!”
Station 11091 -9:08 Angela raced through the corridors grabbing clothes and food. She came back around to Joan, who was looking at the patch with utmost interest.
“You’re back! Good, I had a question. What is this supposed to be? Is it from the future from now? Later? Before? I have lots of questions-‘
“We’re leaving soon. Put these clothes on.” She tossed her ragged clothes to match her time period.
“Where is Fred? I wish to speak to him about this again. I am still confused-“
“Never mind Fred and Cornelius. Dress yourself. You have Five hours to prepare yourself for departure.” Angela left for the engine room, where she collected technology for building such powerful shielding against Time Rips and other space anomalies She, Fred and Cornelius had encountered during their travels.
Station 11091 -4:00 Joan stood beside her new home. Grasping at the old clothes she now wore. She was very excited but found herself feeling down for the occasion. She didn’t wish to go back. She had done so much, why must she do more? Why can’t they send someone else anyway? Fred and Cornelius hadn’t elaborated very well.
“Jeanne d’Arc, prepare yourself for Departure!” shouted Angela from a speaker. Joan ducked at the noise until she realized it had addressed her. She stood straight and closed her eyes. Just like in a trial, you must be prepared for any-
Angela appeared with a flash of white light a moment before Joan could finish her thought. “Grab my hand.” Joan obeyed, and with another flash, Station 11091 vanished and replaced itself with a castle wall.
“Are we there? Back in my time?” asked Joan to herself, though she knew it true. One does not forget where they come from.
“Follow me. You are burning as I speak.”
Joan noticed a faint burning smell and became overwhelmed with horror. “You! You there stop!” she ran to Angela. “What if they spot me? I will be burned again! You must stop-“
“I cannot. They will not notice you. You have been aged and figured differently then yourself.”
They had approached the outside wall where Jeanne was burning, her screams clearly audible through the cheers of the crowd. Angela grabbed Joan tight with both arms and looked deep into her eyes.
“You are Joan of Arc. God has chosen you in your past life to burn and be remembered throughout history as a great and powerful women. You were born on Station 11091 not to die here today, but to change history in a small way that will have a big impact on how this world views itself. You will succeed because you cannot fail.” Angela pulled forth a small clock, which Joan recognized easily with her memory implant.
“I will be back in an hour for you. It’s plenty of time. Go to the burning-“she gave Joan a brief hug- “Go!” she pushed Joan into the crowd into a jeering man who didn’t notice her. She gave a small cry that went unnoticed.
She approached closer to the burning, where she couldn’t take he eyes off of her burning body. It occurred to her that she could stop it all. She’s only been burning a few minutes. How? Think, think fast.
She started screaming at the burning woman and tossing what rocks where on the ground. She blended in with the rest of the crowd perfectly.
“Good luck Joan. God speed.” Angela vanished.
Joan was screaming at the top of her lungs, emptying her lungs with cries of hate for the burning woman. She tossed the red object in with a handful of pebbles at Jeanne d’Arc.
The crowd had become overjoyed with this new humiliation and joined her more so by throwing more then just pebbles and large rocks; they tossed breads and baskets at Jeanne hollering their screams of approval and disapproval for the woman.
Joan, over run with tears, slowly backed away. Trying her best to keep the screams going and pebbles flying. She backed into a few women before leaving the scene, but again no one noticed.
She ran to where Angela brought her the first time, only to find her missing.
“Miss! Miss! Where are you? Miss!” but she failed to find Angela. She waited what seemed close to two hours before she stopped. Hiding high up in a tree she had feared the worse and it had come true. Her Taker had not come back.
“No life is worth two burnings.” And with that, Joan jumped from her branch; head first, to the ground.
Station 11091 -1:03
Angela had feared the worst, and it had happened. She couldn’t save Joan. She didn’t belong in their time or any other. Fred and Cornelius had taught her Nature was superior to anything they could do. She found it true now. Joan deserved to die there as she herself deserved to die in 1999.
With only an hour left, she gathered what remaining items were left and vanished to 1990, where she hid them with all of the other information and objects in a Warehouse in the name of Cornelius Fred Angel V. She ran over to a single telephone that was hard wired to the building. She dialed 911.
“911 Operator how can I help you?”
“Oh! My boyfriend, he said he had something but I thought he was lying and-“
“Ma’am, please slow down, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“He-he said he had some high class stuff! I didn’t believe my eyes until-“
“Ma’am 911 isn’t for prank calls. It is a serious offense. Please state your emergency or get off the line.”
Angela pulled out a small piece of paper from her pocket and read it: “’Grandslam’”.
The Operator few off her desk and ran over to the Department Chief’s office. She burst open the door and met him in a very excited mood.
“Ms. Scarles! Please knock! I could have been having a meeting with someone very important-“
Ms. Scarles was panting heavily and gulping in the air.
“’Gran-Grandslame!’ Now!” she managed.
The Chief got up immediately, taking his jacket and holstering his weapon.
“Where? Show me the directions. I’ll take this one personally. Reach the President. I wanna know who called when and where now. Catch who ever called right now!” He rushed out the door, leaving Ms. Scarles to use his phone. She called the Head of State first and gave him the Code that was on the bottom of the phone. He connected her to the White House.
The Chief was in his car mumbling something about National Security and inevitable wars.
Station11091 -0:12
Angela crossed over the Vat floor. Fred and Cornelius had just finished their automated Memory Implants. She approached the three Vats that she had started before. The bodies were perfect in every-way.
Angela relied on the computer to update all three with newly revised information. Changing the memories slightly and removing a few ideas about time interference. No glitch was possible at this time. Such a thing would be a tragedy beyond all others. These bodies needed to be perfect. She ran to Fred and Cornelius.
“Angela!” Fred and Cornelius both shouted, trapped in their Vats.
“What have you done? You’ve ruined all we’ve worked so hard to keep perfect!” shouted Cornelius as she approached them.
“You’ve made a grave mistake Angela. Time will be without meaning should anything you’ve placed end up in the wrong hands, and you know it true. These things always-“
“Shut up the both of you! I’ve ridden you both of your Time ability’s. I’m leaving for 2090 without you lot.”
“Outrageous! 2090 won’t be the same!” said Fred, pointing his index finger accusingly at her.
“Shut up! I’m leaving-“she checked her watch: 7 minutes. She went to the Vats. They were moving around, trying to scream protest as to why they were trapped inside.
“I can’t believe she’s trying to-“started Cornelius before hearing the unmistakable sound of pounding from within a Vat.
“”Who’s in there Angela? Answer me!” Shouted Cornelius.
“I’m fixing everything! The Three Rule is flawed. You’re both living evidence of that.”
“You’ve made a grave mistake Joan-“started Fred.
“Don’t you ever call me that! Never ever!” she shouted back. “I didn’t deserve to die twice! You both deserve to rot here and die a thousand deaths before you’re granted salvation! Sending me to my death!” she had tears in her eyes. “My death! You had no intention of saving me from the moment I was grown!” she had lowered her voice to a whisper. “No life is worth two deaths. Not even if it means saving a few thousand from a Nazi concentration camp to live to see another day.” She stopped to breathe. “You don’t know what it’s like, to see yourself die. And then commit the ultimate sin against our lord because you can’t stand the chance of burning again. You can’t imagine!”
“Good lord Joan, what have you done?” asked Cornelius.
“Wait just a minute! We grew you back! We granted back your life! We know what we did was wrong-“Fred glanced over at Cornelius “but we’ve tried to fix it! We can’t just go around dropping off bodies and taking them back! We aren’t perfect beings! Angela, our history! All of those good times? Does it mean nothing?”
“I don’t have time for this.” She turned her back to them. Ten seconds. “I’m taking the four of us to the future. May God have mercy on your souls. Should grown people have them.” She popped opened the Vats in quick successions in three whipping motions of her hand; grabbing the newly grown Fred’s, Cornelius’s and Jeanne d’Arcs hands. The sound of blades slicing through the wind and a bright light engulfed the room. Fred and Cornelius remained, trapped in their separate Vats.
They looked at each other.
“I. I have no words.” said Fred quickly.
“1999 was a good year, no?” asked Cornelius.
Fred could only nod his head, tears starting to wet his cheeks. “Yes, it was. Yes, it was.”
And with a giant bang and the sound of crushing metal, Space Station 11091 imploded into itself.
2090, President Niles Nines Private house in Nebraska
“Are you coming to bed Niles?” asked a very beautiful woman by the Presidents study door. “You’ll have a hard time getting up tomorrow.”
“No Mrs. Nine, I’ll be up another hour or so; I’ll never finish these peace treaties between Mars and Jupiter but I’ve got to try. It’s my job as President and World Leader to help these poor souls out.”
Mrs. Nine gave her husband a brief smile and blew him a kiss. “Don’t stay up to late. We’ve got dinner with the Eights in the morning.”
“Ehh!” The President waved both his hands playfully in the air. “I hate those Eights. Always trying to show us up. I remembered. Off to bed now, or you’ll be the one having a hard time getting up.”
She chuckled softly to herself. She stared at him a moment longer before closing the door.
“That woman. Drives me mad sometimes. But I did forget.” The President mused to himself. He pulled out his pocket watch.
“Dinner with the Eights. Don’t forget.” He said into it, and placed it back in his pocket.
“Did you really forget?” asked a voice behind him.
“Holy-!”
“Calm down, Mr. President.” Said Fred. Cornelius, Angela and Joan stood behind him some ten feet in the shadows.
“How did you? Where did you?-“
“’Petty Conversation’” said Cornelius.
“Whah? I’ll, I’ll have my security in an instant with-“
‘This?” asked Angela, holding up his pocket watch.
“How… did you?” The President patted his pocket, not finding his watch.
“Mr. President.” Started Fred. “We have a small problem on our hands. Something somewhere has imploded and we need to rebuild it. We need your help.”
“Why should I help you? You’ve trespassed and robbed me and it’s only been a minute.”
“Ten seconds actually. Mr. President there’s a few problems with history.” Said Joan.
“And a few problems in this era too.” Chimed in Cornelius.
Niles listened to them for a good four hours. Mrs. Nine had fallen asleep almost instantly. Niles was right; she would have a hard time getting up.
Cabalwannabe: Clone of Joan.
Adherence to Prompt: 3.5. You have Joan, but other than her name and a brief fit about being an abomination to God (which seemed a little too forced as it is), there’s not much to make you think of her AS Joan of Arc.
Spelling/Grammar: 1.5. Several punctuation mistakes, and lots of unnecessary capitalization and typos, missing words… definitely needs to be proofread.
Characterization: 4.5/10. The characters work, but not too well. Joan is at least semi-recognizable, though far too calm for someone in her situation; everyone else lacks any sort of real motivation, or at least any that is made evident to the reader. In fact, Joan doesn’t have much reason to do as they say, and every reason to be going out of her MIND with the temporal/culture shock.
Plot/Structure: 4/10. You obviously have some idea what is going on, and your characters do, but the reader does not. The station is going to be destroyed… somehow? And the time travelers can’t stop it… why? And they need Joan… why? Why did they need JOAN to go back to her own burning, just to put something into the fire? And Angela is another clone of Joan… for what purpose, all the Joanclones?
Style: 4.5. You write too fast, and I don’t mean words-per-minute. You need to slow down, take time to explain to the readers what is going on. If you throw an important fact or plot point at the reader, give them a moment to digest it, don’t just keep running on, or it all becomes a big mess.
Creativity: 7.5. I think. It’s hard for me to judge just how original this is because I’m not entirely sure what actually happened in it.
Total: 25.5 Why do they need a clone of Joan to plant something in the hay the real Joan was burned in? Why not someone disguised as, or at most a clone of, one of the guards? Nice touch with the clothing switch that caused her death. Why would Joan want to return to this alien future, rather than remaining in her France to continue the war? And why would two identical people mess with her so… twins existed back then, too, after all. But more to the overall point—who are these characters, and why are they doing what they are doing? How did they get a space station/time travel abilities in the first place, and how does putting a swastika in Joan’s pyre change the course of WWII?
So as not to effect scoring from other judges, I'll address quoted parts in the past tense.
Why do they need a clone of Joan to plant something in the hay the real Joan was burned in?
I should have elaborated here. As it stands I didn't find it very importent; however if your mentioning it it probably is. I'll be sure to address the Why's Things Are in future stories.
Why would Joan want to return to this alien future, rather than remaining in her France to continue the war?
Why to save the future of course! There are a number of ways this story could have ended; though I felt ending it in her original time period wouldn't explain why I had introduced the 'Travelers in the first place. This is a story of Time Travelers, not Joan. (Which is evident here:
You have Joan, but other than her name and a brief fit about being an abomination to God (which seemed a little too forced as it is), there’s not much to make you think of her AS Joan of Arc.
) Though I did try to incorporate her role more then it appears; though it looks as though I failed that.
The story is also about Angela who is Joan. Though I don't think her character is very believable to the real Je'anne d'Arc; I couldn't do much about it without giving it away early in the story (fixable of course if I had had more time; but who doesn't use that excuse?). Which is something I didn't want to do as it seems it would have given away some of the ending/surprise. Though I think your right; she would have wanted to stay and continue the war.
twins existed back then, too, after all.
I know; but I figured with the lack of travel equipment (Motor Vehicles vs Horses) someone in that time would rarly see twins; if ever, in their life time. Though with Joan fighting all the time and being around all of those different kinds of people; I think the probability of seeing more then one set of twins is likly; but still unlikly because of the percentage of twins around at that time.
How did they get a space station/time travel abilities in the first place
That is irrelevent in my eyes. The reader only needs to know that they have the ability. That's the same as asking why Hannibal Lecter is able to bypass psychological tests. Theres a reason, but the reader shouldn't be focusing on this because the writer hasn't given theme reason to. Personal belife here.
the course of WWII?
Why does it needs to effect WW2? It leads you to believe it too, but again you shouldn't be focusing here; but rather as to why they need Joan (Again: which I didn't elaborate very well.)
If I'm understanding your judging right; I have poor reasoning and explanation in the story; both of which is trying to glue all the peices together.
Luckily that's something I can work on.
If you couldn’t tell, I am quite confounded here.
I see what your saying in your judging. It just isn't making sense in the end. Thanks for taking the time to judge! It means alot coming from you.
Heh, I hope my comments were helpful. I mentioned WWII specifically, because the story mentions Nazis specifically. Anyway, as I said, I got the impression that YOU knew what was going on, but just didn't manage to convey it too well to the readers. This is a problem, but it is a relatively easy problem to work on (at least, when compared to other writing flaws).
edit:
Quote from you »
That is irrelevent in my eyes. The reader only needs to know that they have the ability. That's the same as asking why Hannibal Lecter is able to bypass psychological tests. Theres a reason, but the reader shouldn't be focusing on this because the writer hasn't given theme reason to. Personal belife here.
Yes, but Lector is an evil genius; the reader doesn't think 'how did he get past the tests' because he seems quite competent and capable of doing so. You can leave details like this out, so long as the reader can be readily expected to connect the dots and the situation doesn't seem too unbelievably extraordinary. Your characters don't seem to have a very good handle on their time travel device, or their space station, or the workings of either, which is why I (and likely many others reading this story) would question how they were able to get them in the first place. In short, to paraphrase something from a writing text I once read, "A good writer can have you believing in UFOs, or hobbits, or that the South won the Civil War. A bad writer can't make you believe that Mary likes Joe." Right now, you're somewhere between the two extremes.
Adherence to Prompt: 4 - An interesting use of Joan.
Spelling/Grammar: 3
Characterization: 7 - I like these guys. You do a good job of making every character distinct. Your biggest weakness is Angela, who never really gets described. I get the feeling that you did this so as not to tip your hand that she's Joan, but it just makes her character confusing and blank.
Plot/Structure: 6 - Confusing! You have a good idea, but this story needs 2-3 rewrites so you can get a handle on a squirming plot. Your timeline is inconsistant even for a time travel story... didn't they return to just before midnight, December 31st, 1999? If so, then why did it never hit 2000?
Style: 5 - There are a few stylistic problems. Nothing is really described. Also, blades in the air don't sound like anything in particular to me. A lack of description just makes your confusing plot all the more confusing.
Creativity: 6 - Very interesting, but it needs development. A few rewrites would make this story much stronger.
Adherence to Prompt: 4 - An interesting use of Joan.
I was going for unique. Something out of the ordinary; though I'm still not sure if I acheived that.
Characterization: 7 - I like these guys. You do a good job of making every character distinct. Your biggest weakness is Angela, who never really gets described. I get the feeling that you did this so as not to tip your hand that she's Joan, but it just makes her character confusing and blank.
I know; I did a terrible job with Angela. Though her importence in the story came in very suddenly towards the end of the contest. I only did one rewrite; of which I tried to characterize her more; though I don't think I succeeded very well. Your right though, I did try to not give away too much about her. Otherwise you'd know who she is right off the bat. A better writer could have done it in the time I had, but not me.
Plot/Structure: 6 - Confusing! You have a good idea, but this story needs 2-3 rewrites so you can get a handle on a squirming plot. Your timeline is inconsistant even for a time travel story... didn't they return to just before midnight, December 31st, 1999? If so, then why did it never hit 2000?
If you go to the future, then that time has already happened (in the past). The whole part your thinking of was added just for pizaz! Along with all akward time traveling parts. After all; if you can't make use of your greatest asset, you shouldn't be using it.
Style: 5 - There are a few stylistic problems. Nothing is really described. Also, blades in the air don't sound like anything in particular to me. A lack of description just makes your confusing plot all the more confusing.
Confusing seems to be the keyword here between yourself and V. I'll have to work on that. Although I was afraid to add too much detail; I didn't finish reading a story once because it was so crammed with detail it turned me off to it. (I've never wanted to acheive that in my writing)
Creativity: 6 - Very interesting, but it needs development. A few rewrites would make this story much stronger.
Undoubtfully.
Thanks for reading and rating and personal opinions!
Cabalwannabe, by pure luck this story is currently the one highest up on the food chain, so I'm hitting it first – if I get repetitive later, this is where you read "always get a second pair of eyes on your work" first.
Comments
This story bristles with creative ideas not realized, and feels like it was rushed without much attention to format, editing, and general polish. As seems to have happened with many of the entries, I think the story you wanted to tell was far bigger than the short story format – there are a lot of tantalizing pieces of the freaky, clone-ridden future' the WWII setting, and Joan's own time, but the connections, more importantly the need for these periods to connect and affect each other, started shaky and only got more confusing.
I really admire how well-developed your original creations and the real protagonists (Joan only seems a supporting character) are for you, and there's nothing more tiresome than exposition that overly explains the strange elements of this kind of story – but if you don't let the reader in on some of the specifics, they'll get as lost as I got. You clearly know your way around the future you've built, let us in on it more.
You made your characters fairly distinct at first, but quickly the name similarities and all the time jumping made them harder to follow. They didn't feel distinct to me, everyone's voice sounded the same. Joan seemed pretty redundant to the story, too – whether you intended to or not, this really felt like a story you'd already been thinking about and then wedged Joan into to fit the topic.
Technical details and presentation hurt here, which is something that you can easily fix in a real document, but unfortunately the cramped, dialogue-heavy style only added to the chaotic feel of the story. Almost every new paragraph is a new line of dialogue (at times it was more like reading a play). There were no indents the beginning of a new paragraph. Grammar, spelling, and punctuation (including that unnecessary apostrophe in "Nazi's"—that's one of my pet peeves) looked first draft to me. You need to run your grammar and spelling checks, read and reread and revise this story, and have someone you trust copyedit it for you. A second pair of eyes is invaluable, especially if they're just looking out for technical errors.
0-5 Adherence to Prompt: This isn't just "Is Joan of Arc in the story." This is "Does she seem like Joan of Arc?" Historical innacuracies will come out of here, though I'll likely be the only one to dock for that.
2
Joan's inclusion in this story made little sense to me, and Joan herself wasn't very Joan-y. This could have used more historical research – you were clearly more comfortable in the other settings.
0-5 Spelling and Grammar: Sefl-esplanator.y Don't neglect this - Scavenger had a few spelling errors, and lost last round by half a point. These are not hard points to get, so don't take them for granted.
1.5
There are some really basic things here that you need to work on – primarily punctuation, but some spelling, too. Also—and this is also a style problem—your tenses are all over the place, which is extra confusing with all the time-jumping going on. Clearing up that alone would take great strides toward making this story appear more professional.
0-10 Characterization: How well are your characters (all of them) developed? Are they believable? Do they come alive to the readers, or are they just flat archetypes?
3
The characters are weakly developed, and seem enslaved to a meta-plot you fail to ultimately make clear. In a story involving clones, it's going to be hard to make characters distinct, but if you don't develop them or even pick one to share a POV, you're in trouble.
0-10 Plot and Structure: Does everything flow well? Does the story make coherant sense? Do we care about what happens, at the same time as not being able to see everything coming?
2
This really needs tightening up – the plot is baffling, in that it seems to change arbitrarily. What does dropping a Nazi anything into burning hay in 1412 actually accomplish? Why are people getting stabbed in the back?
0-10 Style: How effective your words are. How well you use symbolism, imagery, voice, and all those other mystical writing concepts.
3
The tense problem just kills you here, but so does the general rough feel of your style—I get the feeling you didn't self-edit or rewrite this much at all. The story isn't clear enough for you to get away with long strings of dialogue and so little background and scenic description. There are some smart turns of phrase, so I know you can use language descriptively. Take a hard look at the story yourself, with a copy of Strunk and White handy, and your style will become clearer.
0-10 Creativity: Just because you have to use a well-documented historical figure, doesn't mean you can't be creative about it.
5
It is creative, I'll give you that. But creative isn't compelling unless you justify why things are happening.
It is creative, I'll give you that. But creative isn't compelling unless you justify why things are happening.
Out of all your information I feel this effects me the most. Although you do point out alot that needs fixing in my writing I feel I can do most of it.
I was having a hard time coming up with a role for Joan in any story - so when this one hit I went with it. Her role isn't very well put and pretty much down right baffling. Though I blame this to a few things I'm still taking the fall here.
Take a hard look at the story yourself, with a copy of Strunk and White handy, and your style will become clearer.
I think I will do that. Thanks for the recomendation.
This story bristles with creative ideas not realized, and feels like it was rushed without much attention to format, editing, and general polish. As seems to have happened with many of the entries, I think the story you wanted to tell was far bigger than the short story format – there are a lot of tantalizing pieces of the freaky, clone-ridden future' the WWII setting, and Joan's own time, but the connections, more importantly the need for these periods to connect and affect each other, started shaky and only got more confusing.
I was considering exspanding on the idea; though insperation hasn't exactly hit for it.
I really admire how well-developed your original creations and the real protagonists (Joan only seems a supporting character) are for you, and there's nothing more tiresome than exposition that overly explains the strange elements of this kind of story – but if you don't let the reader in on some of the specifics, they'll get as lost as I got. You clearly know your way around the future you've built, let us in on it more.
The others agree here. As do I. I've started to explain more of the world that my characters take place in in my stories now.
Most of your post contains information that I've gone back to in the last few days. So as not to draw this out I'll just put it blunt:
First off thanks for reading and replying. It means alot to aspiring authors. You've given me alot to think about and alot to work on which is more then others have on different websites. You've been very thorough in your judging and not just on my piece. I'll be taking your words to heart.
Again thanks for reading and replying and taking the time out to help us all.
Clone of Joan
The day is drawing to a close. The thin night air is fresh with the smell of wild grass and wet dew. A black shoe rests comfortably atop the ground. It’s made of the best material, as yet unknown to man.
A figure looks up at a great Tower, admiring with all his might how such a tower came to be so lucky to hold such a historical figure.
The sound of blades moving very quickly through the air announces the arrival of his partner, and with a flash of white light he appears, dressed in the same clothes, minus a bowler hat.
The second figure approaches the Tower, looking up at it with equal admiration.
“Beautiful, isn’t it Cornelius?” asks the first Man.
Cornelius brings around a cane made of oak, and rests his palms on it. “I do say it is.. Though it’s not worth my time looking. Come, we have work that needs to be finished.”
It’s not 11:59, its 11:57. Do take your time, will you? What’s the point of living if you can’t enjoy yourself?” says the first man.
“That” starts Cornelius, “is the point. And you well know it. Come on, the less time you waste, the more lives we can save. Plus, memory restoration is hard enough without having Angela do it by herself.”
“Oh? Is she awake then?”
“Ungluing as we speak. Angela’s been a natural at this for a very long time, since… Oh, I forget. Either way, shall we hurry?”
“No. I refuse to be a slave to this life of ours. I shall wait but another minute.”
Cornelius brings about his left arm and pulls back the sleeve.
“Come now, its 11:58. Suppose something goes wrong? Why take the chance Fred?”
“Anything that goes wrong can be fixed. You should be aware of this; it’s what we do.”
“Oh, I am fully aware. I just don’t want more work that needs to be done in the morning. Stopping Nazi’s is no easy work, you know?”
“Yes, I know, but it’s too bad. I’m living. Go back and wait if you like” Fred was getting irritable
Cornelius stood in silence.
“Do you suppose she really tried to escape that thing? From so far up?” Fred spoke to himself, though taunting Cornelius into a conversation they had had three too many times.
“You know she did. You can ask her yourself when we get back if you don’t believe me. But she didn’t at some points, and was never here at others. You know it, I know it.”
“But that’s the point! What if she didn’t at some point, and was never here at others. You know it, I know it.”
“But that’s the point! What if she didn’t? Would we be standing here? Would we be doing what we do?”
“No one ever knows Fred. Ten seconds.”
“Ten seconds.” Repeated Fred.
The Tower loomed over them both as if a teacher instructing her students as to why they are here, and not in class reading books about the how’s and why’s things are.
“Five seconds. I’m gone Fred.” And with that same sound of blades moving very quickly through the air and a flash of white light, Cornelius vanished leaving an empty space next to Fred.
“Always rushing. We shouldn’t. If history teaches us anything, it’s that we shouldn’t rush.”
Fred Cornelius’s watch beeped at 11:59, 1412. And with that same sound and light vanished on the spot to a place five hundred and eighty-seven years away.
Fred appeared on Space Station 11091 in a room full of bright white and blue lights, dangling cords of all sorts, and steam rising from the metal grates on the walls in huge amounts. He checked his watched: 11:59 1999. Space Station 11091 wasn’t built until 3611. Fred and Cornelius had traveled back to 1999, where constant fear of the Year Two Thousand (Y2K) Computer Bug kept the Government away from learning about their Station and its purpose with Mirror Shielding technology from 2090.
“Fred! Come on! You’re always cutting it short!” shouted a female voice from ahead of him through the steam.
“Coming Angela!” Fred shouted back, starting in her direction from under dangling electrical lines.
Some would come to call it a Travel outlet, though it certainly wasn’t, and even more would call it Heaven and Hell, though it certainly wasn’t either. Inside Station 11091, mass Vats for Growing humans remained suspended in the air and on the ground. Computer stations for Traveling, Growth, Mirror Shielding Technology and Life Support swarmed the walls and open spaces. It mimics Underground-Government design in the sense of having everything cramped together in a small area.
“Ready Angela?” asked Cornelius beside her, tying something into what barely resembled a computer but certainly was.
“Of course. I’ve been ready for a few days now.”
“And you decided to wait for us? My we do have quite a polite lady today. Alright, begin the Information Transplant.”
Angela heads for a different console and presses a single button. “Information Sent” blinks in red on the screen ahead of her.
“How’s the body?” asks Fred. “I hope it’s not tarnished. I’d hate to have a disfigured woman walking around.”
“It’s already been seen. The body is fine.” Said Cornelius, who was busy reading a chart on the wall which changed rapidly in an array of powerful blues, yellows and reds.
“Its’ been aged twenty years, as protocol dictates to avoid any Doubles walking around, of course.”
Fred mused over this a moment. The first time someone saw their double walking around it started a war that hadn’t been predicted by Station 11091. A messy clean up.
“12:01 Fred. We’re late.”
“Nonsense. We’re right on time as usual.”
“Never forget what happened on the Moses expedition Fred. Fires raging in the Cells and in our beds! We lost little but it could have been disastrous! All because you miscalculated by one minute, forty-five seconds!”
“But it wasn’t” said Angela, who had grown tired of their bickering over the years. “Phase Two in Sixty seconds. Then we can talk to her in…” she checked her screen “three days.”
“Excellent.” Said Fred, who couldn’t help but beam into Cornelius’s face. “I’ll just be leaving then. See you in three days Cornelius, Angela.”
“Three days then, Fred.” Replied Cornelius.
“Be sure to shake her hand.” Added Angela.
“I will” Fred lifted the sleeve on his other arm, which contained a holographic 3D blue print of a Calendar showing the Days, Years, and Times. “What’s today?”
Angela and Cornelius both gave him a look of disapproval.
“No time for jokes, eh? Very well then.” And with that, Fred punched in the third day and vanished in that strange blade filled sound and flash of white light.
“Three days? Shouldn’t it be two?” asked Cornelius.
“It should be two, but it doesn’t matter. These bodies survive long enough. An extra day won’t kill her.”
“It shouldn’t, no. Should we take a look or wait for the results?”
Angela gave him the same look she gave Fred.
“Don’t blame me now, I’m just trying to perfect.”
“And that will be your undoing.”
“I’ll be sure it won’t. G’night, Angela.”
“G’night, Cornelius Fred.” And with that, Angela vanished in that same wind as Fred, followed by Cornelius.
Down below the Station, the body of Jeanne d’Arc was transferred by robotic bed to a holding cell, where bodies where given nutrition and water through an IV to keep them alive and enough entertainment to keep it occupied. Jeanne slept for the next day.
A knock on the cell, on the third, day woke her.
“Who-Who is it?” she called, scrambling the corner in a giant grey T-shirt commonly called Hoofs. She wasn’t expecting a knock. The only times she woke in the last two days was when Service Bots came to refill her IC, and they barged in without respect for the occupant inside.
“Fred Cornelius, of Station 11091. I’d like a word Jeanne d’Arc, or can I call you Joan It’s so much easier to be on a first name basis.” He tried to sound cheerful, and succeeded.
Jeanne considered it a moment before getting up. “Come in. And yes, you may.” She hurriedly added.
“Excellent.” Fred opened the door, which wasn’t really so much a door as a solid projection that vanished when a physical object wished entrance.
“Welcome Joan! May I shake your hand?”
Joan merely extended hers, shaking his when he brought it around. She had a limp grip and didn’t give feeling in the handshake.
“We’ll have to work on that. In either case, please sit down. May I?” Fred gestured to a spot on the floor.
“Please.” Joan staggered to sit down, feeling shaky and trembling slightly.
“Oh my, are you cold? We can turn up the heat. I swear we don’t take body heat scans nearly enough now-a-days.”
“No, I’m f-fine. Just a little… Jittery?”
“Jittery? How do you feel? Ok?”
“My, my words are different.”
“Oh yes! I’d forgotten about that. We gave you an updated vocabulary. Along with a few other things for the trip. Don’t worry; you’ll be just fine with the advancements we’ve made.”
“How is this? How am I here?”
“That, Joan, is partly why I cam here. I cam to explain what I’m permitted, and a little of what I’m not.”
She shook her head back and forth a little.
“To answer your question, I must ask one first.” Fred leaned to her a bit. “Joan, you remember how you died?”
She bobbed her head up and down slowly.
“Ok. Now understand, we are scientists. That is, we study People and Time and adjust accordingly. You are not yourself. You died. You remember. Now the important thing here is to not get scared. You are very much alive and as we’ve installed in your memory you are not in Heaven or Hell. You are on a Space Station. That is, a place far above your planet. The reason why we haven’t given you the information as to why you’re here and what your going to do, is twofold:
The first reason is that I enjoy talking almost as much as I love traveling-“
Joan gave a small smirk at this.
“The second being: It’s better to hear, as you’ll take it much better. You’re going to deliver something to your Burning, and leave it there. This small tag here-“Fred grabbed a small red Item bearing the Nazi emblem from his pocket. “See? You’re going to deliver it for us. Don’t worry, it won’t catch fire.
Now you may be wondering as to why we don’t deliver it ourselves-“
“I am” she said quickly.
“Good! Good that is wonderful. Well the reason is simple: We can’t be seen. That is, if someone were to recognize us, we’d be royally screwed. It could destroy all we’ve worked so hard on.”
“And that is?” asked Joan quietly.
“That’s one of those things I can’t tell you. Though I can tell you a bit more-“
(Joan was still shaking)
“Oh dear. Nervous are we? Why yes, I imagine so. Dear me, I’ve only done this a few times, here, take one of these.” Fred handed her a small pill.
Joan looked at it suspiciously.
“I haven’t hurt you yet, have I?”
She accepted the pill, and swallowed it quickly. “I don’t like knowing all the things I do. What is pill really? What is Space Station but home in the Sky?-“
“Space” corrected Fred.
“No. Sky. I like my word better.”
“Indeed. The reason we can’t be seen is again twofold: if we were to be spotted, all we have created could be lost, or give greater power. The second being: we really don’t know what would happen. It’s never happened before.”
“So I am to go back? Back to be burned?”
“No no! Oh my have I confused you terribly! No, you are to go back and ‘plant’ this in the hay used to burn you. That’s it.”
Joan twiddled her fingers nervously. “H-how do I get back?”
Fred gave her a stern look. “You leave that to us. Rest assure, Joan, we have never left anyone behind before. But accidents do happen and are a reality here.”
“Why can’t you-“she searched her vocabulary “Why can’t you just fix it without me?”
“Because you are a fighter Joan! You can get the job done! Anyone else will fail, and trust me, we have tried. One of our accidents actually involve a mismatch with some of your clothes while you were in-“
“The Tower?” she asked hastily. “That was your fault!”
“Now now calm down, we don’t play the blame game here. It was an accident, remember? We tried someone else, and they failed.” Though in a different experiment from yours, he added to himself.
“I needed those clothes. I died burning because-“
“You cannot live the past now Joan. We are not here to debate whether or not My Community and its actions are guilty of anything. We are trying to help the world, as you did Joan. Only on a much larger scale.”
“You lie. It cannot be true of what you say-“
A knock then, on the door.
“Come in!” shouted Joan, her nerves getting the better or her.
“Oh Fred! You’re here already. I’d thought you’d gone to get some food first. Too bad really, I was really hoping I would get a crack at her first-“
“Wow!” shouted Joan, standing again, touching Cornelius’s face with her hands.
“You two are the same! The same!”
“Er, is something wrong with her Fred?” asked Cornelius.
“Not from what I or our scans can tell. She’s just a bit in awe I guess.”
Cornelius moved to sit by his Clone, pointing for Joan to sit down.
“How is this possible? Never on the battlefield have I seen or outside of it something as strange as seeing-“
“Two alike?” asked Fred, who had been apart of conversations like this too many times to count; each with its own twist that he enjoyed, but rather found dull and boring in the end.
“Got her hair right, that’s for sure. I was afraid That Vat wouldn’t be able to handle such small details.” Said Cornelius, eying her short hair.
“I always wear my hair short” Joan looked slightly puzzled before realizing what they were talking about and recalling her new memory.
“Vat! I was grown! I’m not human! An abomination to our Lord God-“
“No no no no! Please no Jeanne, you were born, not grown. Listen to me what I say-“but she cut Cornelius short. ”Grown! Unnatural!”
“’Pesty Conversation’” said Fred, and Joan calmed down considerably. She felt woozy and lightheaded.
“What did you, you do?” she asked, slumping to the ground.
“It’s something in your blood. It calms you down when you hear the words.”
“W-wow…” Joan dozed in and out of sleep for a few minutes. In which time Fred explained to Cornelius that she was to be called ‘Joan’ instead of her other name, to make her feel separate and untied from her former life.
“Does she know why she was born Fred?” he asked his Clone. He himself couldn’t stand to tell any grown creature their purpose in life.
“Yes, she took it aright. She wants to know how she will be able to come back, instead of rather how she’s going to get their.”
“Do you think she knows already?”
“Most likely. She’s just confused at the moment. She has always been a smart and skilled woman.” Fred got up to wake up Joan more fully. “Joan, listen. I have to go. I have work that needs to be done very soon and I can’t waste a moment. I’ll see you on your return trip to the station, okay?”
Joan only gave a small roll of her head to acknowledge him.
“Good. Cornelius, will you be joining me?”
“Yes, I think I will. You already told her what she needs. I’ll give her drugs for rest and I’ll be on my way.”
Fred vanished with a slashing in the wind and that bright white light.
Angela was busy at a Vat station containing a body partially completed. Peering over it with a high-magnifying glasses she counted the small wrinkles on the figures face.
“Working hard?” asked Fred.
“What day is it, Fred?”
“If you’re asking whether or not I’ve gone back in time since going to see Joan, yes.”
Angela turned her head to get a better look of him. “And? Will she do it?”
“It’s not a question of whether or not she will. She will whether she wants to or not.”
“I meant if, ah…” Angela searched for the right words, tossing her head back and sliding off her glasses “If this Joan of Arc would take the assignment you and your clone has set forth. Yes, that’s right.”
“I don’t know. But this one will have to do. Regardless of the results, the Item will be delivered in time for Prophecy.”
“I don’t understand Fred. Why the urgency?” inquired Angela.
“I just don’t enjoy mistakes and needing to go back to fix what shouldn’t have gone wrong is all, Angela.”
She took off her lab coat, gloves and protective boots. “How long have we known each other Fred? How long have you and your clone been with me? How many times have we had this conversation? Tell the truth Fred, less we develop onto unfriendly living conditions.” She accented her point by popping the lid of preserved water; drinking most of it in a single gulp.
“There is nothing wrong, Angela, if that’s what you are-“
“Enough.” She drew from her back a small operating knife and closed the distance between Fred and herself to less then three feet. “The truth, or one of us will lose our life.” The blade was small and delicate, but Angela’s past history of aggressively getting what she wants (the reason behind her cloning) put Fred off ease and onto defense.
“Don’t be silly. You won’t use that thing. First of all it’s not your style. You prefer blades of nine to twelve inches.” He gave her an un—budging look and folded his arms. “You wouldn’t dare.” He added with a smirk.
Angela proved herself by lunging the blade into his left arm.
“Impressive. You really do believe something is wrong despite me telling you otherwise?” Angela recollected a clone’s body. Twenty-three seconds of life once a leak starts.
19
“Yes, I do.”
18
“Very well. Something is wrong. Station 11091 is falling apart.”
14
How do we stop it?”
12
“We can’t. I’ve tried in all possible periods. We’re royally screwed on this one.”
7
“You’ve discussed this with Cornelius?”
4
“No. He doesn’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way. If you don’t mind, he’s best in the dark for now.”
“You’re not dead. What’s happened?”
“Glitch.” And with that, Fred died; slumping onto the ground while falling to his side, taking with him a few precious items that Angela had worked on prior to most of the day.
Angela stepped over Fred’s body to the main Console. She checked the Station’s main computing folder. Fred was right. Not only was the Station doomed for disaster, but there was no way to fix it. He had left detailed logs of his attempts at salvation, but to no real help being the Station had approximately nineteen hours left.
She recollected her memory. Joan of Arc still needed to get back without any trouble. Though they had plenty of time she feared the worst. She pressed a small intercom button: “Cornelius Fred to Vat, Cornelius Fred to Vat A.S.A.-“
Cornelius showed up instantly with a flash, appearing a second before she finished saying the ‘P’.
“What is it Angela? What’s happened?” Cornelius took in the scene, gasping in shock at his clone’s body.
“Who did this? I demand to know!”
“I did. We have a problem.”
Cornelius pressed a small button on his sleeve coat, and instantly became relaxed. “I trust you had a good reason.”
“Fred had deceived us. We have nineteen hours before this place looks like an asteroid hit it.”
“Impossible. He would have warned us long ago should something go-“Cornelius went to the computer, where he found Angela’s findings.
“So we’ll go back in time and fix it before it becomes unsalvageable. We can do it. No problem, simple as taking the wrapper off candy.”
Angela Brought up the security camera record and replayed what had happened before Fred’s demise.
After a moment, Cornelius left control of his body and fell to the ground.
“Holy Mother, I can not believe what I have seen with my own eyes! Angela, we must check for ourselves. We cannot allow Station 11091 to cease to exist. We have too much left to do. Too much have we failed to accomplish!”
“Joan has –as I have feared- to go now, Cornelius. We can have another Fred Cornelius ready in ten hours. We’ll send them both at the same time. We can save what we have accomplished here without ruining history-“
“No. Absolutely not. Fred would go back and kill you and deceive me again to create a different future. We can’t trust him with something like this without supervision. That’s why we have the Three Rule. Two to watch what the Third does-, wait, what do you mean ‘You’ve feared’-“
“So clone yourself Cornelius! It matters not to me which of us gets the game. Station 11091 needs to survive-“
“We cannot trust anyone without supervision-“And the Cornelius had it.
“We’ll send Joan back. We’ll send her with the information.”
“Are you serious? She’ll ruin things far worse then any of us-“
“She won’t know! We’ll disguise it as something of un-importance.”
“Bloodstream.” Angela spoke her immediate thought.
“It won’t survive. It’s too long before 1999 for it to survive.”
“Well upgrade it. We can do it!”
A moment passes.
“Fred was right, it can’t be done.” Cornelius sharply conceded.
“We have to try. Anything is better then nothing.”
“We will not. We have existed like all living beings, and now we will die like all living beings.”
Angela gave Cornelius a look of incredible disappointment. “You would rather die?” she stepped closer.
“Yes. It is the law of Nature. Despite our tries of fixing it it will succeed in fixing itself. I am confidant in it.” He gave her a reassuring look.
“You’re sure?” she stepped closer still, closing the gap to less then three feet.
“Positive. Come now, we must prepare Joan for the final journey-“he turned around the, and stopped. Realizing Angela’s distance, he vanished in a terrible slashing of the wind and a bright white light.
Cornelius reappeared at the Tower (1412) and ran some ten feet for cover before stopping. Gasping he checked his back for a wound. He brought his hands back to find blood.
“Oh Mother no. This cannot be.”
Station 11091 -13:58 read the computer screen Angela was leaning over. She had stabbed Cornelius in the back as he vanished. A small amount of blood on the ground confirmed he had been hit. Angela had prepared the Station’s Time-Traveling documents into a small computer chip which she packed in her back pocket.
She would take Joan herself, come back in time to save what she could of the Vats, and abandon ship at the last possible moment. She had already prepared two bodies to be grown in the Vats matching Fred Cornelius’s and Cornelius Fred’s most recent memories.
She prepared three more Vats.
Racing down the corridor she came to Joan’s room, where she found her laughing as she passed in and out of the door way.
“Miss! Miss look! Isn’t this fantastic? It’s solid yet… Passable at the same time!” Joan was having the most fun anyone Angela had ever seen grown.
“Take this Jeanne d’Arc.” Angela tossed her the red patch. “It is very important that you leave it-“
“I know, in the fire. Fred and Cornelius have instructed me on my mission-“but Angela had turned the corner and ran past Joan in a hurry, not hearing the rest of what she had to say.
“Nice to meet you! God bless!”
Station 11091 -9:08 Angela raced through the corridors grabbing clothes and food. She came back around to Joan, who was looking at the patch with utmost interest.
“You’re back! Good, I had a question. What is this supposed to be? Is it from the future from now? Later? Before? I have lots of questions-‘
“We’re leaving soon. Put these clothes on.” She tossed her ragged clothes to match her time period.
“Where is Fred? I wish to speak to him about this again. I am still confused-“
“Never mind Fred and Cornelius. Dress yourself. You have Five hours to prepare yourself for departure.” Angela left for the engine room, where she collected technology for building such powerful shielding against Time Rips and other space anomalies She, Fred and Cornelius had encountered during their travels.
Station 11091 -4:00 Joan stood beside her new home. Grasping at the old clothes she now wore. She was very excited but found herself feeling down for the occasion. She didn’t wish to go back. She had done so much, why must she do more? Why can’t they send someone else anyway? Fred and Cornelius hadn’t elaborated very well.
“Jeanne d’Arc, prepare yourself for Departure!” shouted Angela from a speaker. Joan ducked at the noise until she realized it had addressed her. She stood straight and closed her eyes. Just like in a trial, you must be prepared for any-
Angela appeared with a flash of white light a moment before Joan could finish her thought. “Grab my hand.” Joan obeyed, and with another flash, Station 11091 vanished and replaced itself with a castle wall.
“Are we there? Back in my time?” asked Joan to herself, though she knew it true. One does not forget where they come from.
“Follow me. You are burning as I speak.”
Joan noticed a faint burning smell and became overwhelmed with horror. “You! You there stop!” she ran to Angela. “What if they spot me? I will be burned again! You must stop-“
“I cannot. They will not notice you. You have been aged and figured differently then yourself.”
They had approached the outside wall where Jeanne was burning, her screams clearly audible through the cheers of the crowd. Angela grabbed Joan tight with both arms and looked deep into her eyes.
“You are Joan of Arc. God has chosen you in your past life to burn and be remembered throughout history as a great and powerful women. You were born on Station 11091 not to die here today, but to change history in a small way that will have a big impact on how this world views itself. You will succeed because you cannot fail.” Angela pulled forth a small clock, which Joan recognized easily with her memory implant.
“I will be back in an hour for you. It’s plenty of time. Go to the burning-“she gave Joan a brief hug- “Go!” she pushed Joan into the crowd into a jeering man who didn’t notice her. She gave a small cry that went unnoticed.
She approached closer to the burning, where she couldn’t take he eyes off of her burning body. It occurred to her that she could stop it all. She’s only been burning a few minutes. How? Think, think fast.
She started screaming at the burning woman and tossing what rocks where on the ground. She blended in with the rest of the crowd perfectly.
“Good luck Joan. God speed.” Angela vanished.
Joan was screaming at the top of her lungs, emptying her lungs with cries of hate for the burning woman. She tossed the red object in with a handful of pebbles at Jeanne d’Arc.
The crowd had become overjoyed with this new humiliation and joined her more so by throwing more then just pebbles and large rocks; they tossed breads and baskets at Jeanne hollering their screams of approval and disapproval for the woman.
Joan, over run with tears, slowly backed away. Trying her best to keep the screams going and pebbles flying. She backed into a few women before leaving the scene, but again no one noticed.
She ran to where Angela brought her the first time, only to find her missing.
“Miss! Miss! Where are you? Miss!” but she failed to find Angela. She waited what seemed close to two hours before she stopped. Hiding high up in a tree she had feared the worse and it had come true. Her Taker had not come back.
“No life is worth two burnings.” And with that, Joan jumped from her branch; head first, to the ground.
Station 11091 -1:03
Angela had feared the worst, and it had happened. She couldn’t save Joan. She didn’t belong in their time or any other. Fred and Cornelius had taught her Nature was superior to anything they could do. She found it true now. Joan deserved to die there as she herself deserved to die in 1999.
With only an hour left, she gathered what remaining items were left and vanished to 1990, where she hid them with all of the other information and objects in a Warehouse in the name of Cornelius Fred Angel V. She ran over to a single telephone that was hard wired to the building. She dialed 911.
“911 Operator how can I help you?”
“Oh! My boyfriend, he said he had something but I thought he was lying and-“
“Ma’am, please slow down, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“He-he said he had some high class stuff! I didn’t believe my eyes until-“
“Ma’am 911 isn’t for prank calls. It is a serious offense. Please state your emergency or get off the line.”
Angela pulled out a small piece of paper from her pocket and read it: “’Grandslam’”.
The Operator few off her desk and ran over to the Department Chief’s office. She burst open the door and met him in a very excited mood.
“Ms. Scarles! Please knock! I could have been having a meeting with someone very important-“
Ms. Scarles was panting heavily and gulping in the air.
“’Gran-Grandslame!’ Now!” she managed.
The Chief got up immediately, taking his jacket and holstering his weapon.
“Where? Show me the directions. I’ll take this one personally. Reach the President. I wanna know who called when and where now. Catch who ever called right now!” He rushed out the door, leaving Ms. Scarles to use his phone. She called the Head of State first and gave him the Code that was on the bottom of the phone. He connected her to the White House.
The Chief was in his car mumbling something about National Security and inevitable wars.
Station11091 -0:12
Angela crossed over the Vat floor. Fred and Cornelius had just finished their automated Memory Implants. She approached the three Vats that she had started before. The bodies were perfect in every-way.
Angela relied on the computer to update all three with newly revised information. Changing the memories slightly and removing a few ideas about time interference. No glitch was possible at this time. Such a thing would be a tragedy beyond all others. These bodies needed to be perfect. She ran to Fred and Cornelius.
“Angela!” Fred and Cornelius both shouted, trapped in their Vats.
“What have you done? You’ve ruined all we’ve worked so hard to keep perfect!” shouted Cornelius as she approached them.
“You’ve made a grave mistake Angela. Time will be without meaning should anything you’ve placed end up in the wrong hands, and you know it true. These things always-“
“Shut up the both of you! I’ve ridden you both of your Time ability’s. I’m leaving for 2090 without you lot.”
“Outrageous! 2090 won’t be the same!” said Fred, pointing his index finger accusingly at her.
“Shut up! I’m leaving-“she checked her watch: 7 minutes. She went to the Vats. They were moving around, trying to scream protest as to why they were trapped inside.
“I can’t believe she’s trying to-“started Cornelius before hearing the unmistakable sound of pounding from within a Vat.
“”Who’s in there Angela? Answer me!” Shouted Cornelius.
“I’m fixing everything! The Three Rule is flawed. You’re both living evidence of that.”
“You’ve made a grave mistake Joan-“started Fred.
“Don’t you ever call me that! Never ever!” she shouted back. “I didn’t deserve to die twice! You both deserve to rot here and die a thousand deaths before you’re granted salvation! Sending me to my death!” she had tears in her eyes. “My death! You had no intention of saving me from the moment I was grown!” she had lowered her voice to a whisper. “No life is worth two deaths. Not even if it means saving a few thousand from a Nazi concentration camp to live to see another day.” She stopped to breathe. “You don’t know what it’s like, to see yourself die. And then commit the ultimate sin against our lord because you can’t stand the chance of burning again. You can’t imagine!”
“Good lord Joan, what have you done?” asked Cornelius.
“Wait just a minute! We grew you back! We granted back your life! We know what we did was wrong-“Fred glanced over at Cornelius “but we’ve tried to fix it! We can’t just go around dropping off bodies and taking them back! We aren’t perfect beings! Angela, our history! All of those good times? Does it mean nothing?”
“I don’t have time for this.” She turned her back to them. Ten seconds. “I’m taking the four of us to the future. May God have mercy on your souls. Should grown people have them.” She popped opened the Vats in quick successions in three whipping motions of her hand; grabbing the newly grown Fred’s, Cornelius’s and Jeanne d’Arcs hands. The sound of blades slicing through the wind and a bright light engulfed the room. Fred and Cornelius remained, trapped in their separate Vats.
They looked at each other.
“I. I have no words.” said Fred quickly.
“1999 was a good year, no?” asked Cornelius.
Fred could only nod his head, tears starting to wet his cheeks. “Yes, it was. Yes, it was.”
And with a giant bang and the sound of crushing metal, Space Station 11091 imploded into itself.
2090, President Niles Nines Private house in Nebraska
“Are you coming to bed Niles?” asked a very beautiful woman by the Presidents study door. “You’ll have a hard time getting up tomorrow.”
“No Mrs. Nine, I’ll be up another hour or so; I’ll never finish these peace treaties between Mars and Jupiter but I’ve got to try. It’s my job as President and World Leader to help these poor souls out.”
Mrs. Nine gave her husband a brief smile and blew him a kiss. “Don’t stay up to late. We’ve got dinner with the Eights in the morning.”
“Ehh!” The President waved both his hands playfully in the air. “I hate those Eights. Always trying to show us up. I remembered. Off to bed now, or you’ll be the one having a hard time getting up.”
She chuckled softly to herself. She stared at him a moment longer before closing the door.
“That woman. Drives me mad sometimes. But I did forget.” The President mused to himself. He pulled out his pocket watch.
“Dinner with the Eights. Don’t forget.” He said into it, and placed it back in his pocket.
“Did you really forget?” asked a voice behind him.
“Holy-!”
“Calm down, Mr. President.” Said Fred. Cornelius, Angela and Joan stood behind him some ten feet in the shadows.
“How did you? Where did you?-“
“’Petty Conversation’” said Cornelius.
“Whah? I’ll, I’ll have my security in an instant with-“
‘This?” asked Angela, holding up his pocket watch.
“How… did you?” The President patted his pocket, not finding his watch.
“Mr. President.” Started Fred. “We have a small problem on our hands. Something somewhere has imploded and we need to rebuild it. We need your help.”
“Why should I help you? You’ve trespassed and robbed me and it’s only been a minute.”
“Ten seconds actually. Mr. President there’s a few problems with history.” Said Joan.
“And a few problems in this era too.” Chimed in Cornelius.
Niles listened to them for a good four hours. Mrs. Nine had fallen asleep almost instantly. Niles was right; she would have a hard time getting up.
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Adherence to Prompt: 3.5. You have Joan, but other than her name and a brief fit about being an abomination to God (which seemed a little too forced as it is), there’s not much to make you think of her AS Joan of Arc.
Spelling/Grammar: 1.5. Several punctuation mistakes, and lots of unnecessary capitalization and typos, missing words… definitely needs to be proofread.
Characterization: 4.5/10. The characters work, but not too well. Joan is at least semi-recognizable, though far too calm for someone in her situation; everyone else lacks any sort of real motivation, or at least any that is made evident to the reader. In fact, Joan doesn’t have much reason to do as they say, and every reason to be going out of her MIND with the temporal/culture shock.
Plot/Structure: 4/10. You obviously have some idea what is going on, and your characters do, but the reader does not. The station is going to be destroyed… somehow? And the time travelers can’t stop it… why? And they need Joan… why? Why did they need JOAN to go back to her own burning, just to put something into the fire? And Angela is another clone of Joan… for what purpose, all the Joanclones?
Style: 4.5. You write too fast, and I don’t mean words-per-minute. You need to slow down, take time to explain to the readers what is going on. If you throw an important fact or plot point at the reader, give them a moment to digest it, don’t just keep running on, or it all becomes a big mess.
Creativity: 7.5. I think. It’s hard for me to judge just how original this is because I’m not entirely sure what actually happened in it.
Total: 25.5 Why do they need a clone of Joan to plant something in the hay the real Joan was burned in? Why not someone disguised as, or at most a clone of, one of the guards? Nice touch with the clothing switch that caused her death. Why would Joan want to return to this alien future, rather than remaining in her France to continue the war? And why would two identical people mess with her so… twins existed back then, too, after all. But more to the overall point—who are these characters, and why are they doing what they are doing? How did they get a space station/time travel abilities in the first place, and how does putting a swastika in Joan’s pyre change the course of WWII?
If you couldn’t tell, I am quite confounded here.
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I should have elaborated here. As it stands I didn't find it very importent; however if your mentioning it it probably is. I'll be sure to address the Why's Things Are in future stories.
Why to save the future of course! There are a number of ways this story could have ended; though I felt ending it in her original time period wouldn't explain why I had introduced the 'Travelers in the first place. This is a story of Time Travelers, not Joan. (Which is evident here: ) Though I did try to incorporate her role more then it appears; though it looks as though I failed that.
The story is also about Angela who is Joan. Though I don't think her character is very believable to the real Je'anne d'Arc; I couldn't do much about it without giving it away early in the story (fixable of course if I had had more time; but who doesn't use that excuse?). Which is something I didn't want to do as it seems it would have given away some of the ending/surprise. Though I think your right; she would have wanted to stay and continue the war.
I know; but I figured with the lack of travel equipment (Motor Vehicles vs Horses) someone in that time would rarly see twins; if ever, in their life time. Though with Joan fighting all the time and being around all of those different kinds of people; I think the probability of seeing more then one set of twins is likly; but still unlikly because of the percentage of twins around at that time.
That is irrelevent in my eyes. The reader only needs to know that they have the ability. That's the same as asking why Hannibal Lecter is able to bypass psychological tests. Theres a reason, but the reader shouldn't be focusing on this because the writer hasn't given theme reason to. Personal belife here.
Why does it needs to effect WW2? It leads you to believe it too, but again you shouldn't be focusing here; but rather as to why they need Joan (Again: which I didn't elaborate very well.)
If I'm understanding your judging right; I have poor reasoning and explanation in the story; both of which is trying to glue all the peices together.
Luckily that's something I can work on.
I see what your saying in your judging. It just isn't making sense in the end. Thanks for taking the time to judge! It means alot coming from you.
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edit:
Yes, but Lector is an evil genius; the reader doesn't think 'how did he get past the tests' because he seems quite competent and capable of doing so. You can leave details like this out, so long as the reader can be readily expected to connect the dots and the situation doesn't seem too unbelievably extraordinary. Your characters don't seem to have a very good handle on their time travel device, or their space station, or the workings of either, which is why I (and likely many others reading this story) would question how they were able to get them in the first place. In short, to paraphrase something from a writing text I once read, "A good writer can have you believing in UFOs, or hobbits, or that the South won the Civil War. A bad writer can't make you believe that Mary likes Joe." Right now, you're somewhere between the two extremes.
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Spelling/Grammar: 3
Characterization: 7 - I like these guys. You do a good job of making every character distinct. Your biggest weakness is Angela, who never really gets described. I get the feeling that you did this so as not to tip your hand that she's Joan, but it just makes her character confusing and blank.
Plot/Structure: 6 - Confusing! You have a good idea, but this story needs 2-3 rewrites so you can get a handle on a squirming plot. Your timeline is inconsistant even for a time travel story... didn't they return to just before midnight, December 31st, 1999? If so, then why did it never hit 2000?
Style: 5 - There are a few stylistic problems. Nothing is really described. Also, blades in the air don't sound like anything in particular to me. A lack of description just makes your confusing plot all the more confusing.
Creativity: 6 - Very interesting, but it needs development. A few rewrites would make this story much stronger.
Total: 31
I was going for unique. Something out of the ordinary; though I'm still not sure if I acheived that.
I know; I did a terrible job with Angela. Though her importence in the story came in very suddenly towards the end of the contest. I only did one rewrite; of which I tried to characterize her more; though I don't think I succeeded very well. Your right though, I did try to not give away too much about her. Otherwise you'd know who she is right off the bat. A better writer could have done it in the time I had, but not me.
If you go to the future, then that time has already happened (in the past). The whole part your thinking of was added just for pizaz! Along with all akward time traveling parts. After all; if you can't make use of your greatest asset, you shouldn't be using it.
Confusing seems to be the keyword here between yourself and V. I'll have to work on that. Although I was afraid to add too much detail; I didn't finish reading a story once because it was so crammed with detail it turned me off to it. (I've never wanted to acheive that in my writing)
Undoubtfully.
Thanks for reading and rating and personal opinions!
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So'for of the Vedalken
Vansen, Dreamer of Dreams
Clone of Joan
Aeriedle's Mission
By Cabalwannabe
Cabalwannabe, by pure luck this story is currently the one highest up on the food chain, so I'm hitting it first – if I get repetitive later, this is where you read "always get a second pair of eyes on your work" first.
Comments
This story bristles with creative ideas not realized, and feels like it was rushed without much attention to format, editing, and general polish. As seems to have happened with many of the entries, I think the story you wanted to tell was far bigger than the short story format – there are a lot of tantalizing pieces of the freaky, clone-ridden future' the WWII setting, and Joan's own time, but the connections, more importantly the need for these periods to connect and affect each other, started shaky and only got more confusing.
I really admire how well-developed your original creations and the real protagonists (Joan only seems a supporting character) are for you, and there's nothing more tiresome than exposition that overly explains the strange elements of this kind of story – but if you don't let the reader in on some of the specifics, they'll get as lost as I got. You clearly know your way around the future you've built, let us in on it more.
You made your characters fairly distinct at first, but quickly the name similarities and all the time jumping made them harder to follow. They didn't feel distinct to me, everyone's voice sounded the same. Joan seemed pretty redundant to the story, too – whether you intended to or not, this really felt like a story you'd already been thinking about and then wedged Joan into to fit the topic.
Technical details and presentation hurt here, which is something that you can easily fix in a real document, but unfortunately the cramped, dialogue-heavy style only added to the chaotic feel of the story. Almost every new paragraph is a new line of dialogue (at times it was more like reading a play). There were no indents the beginning of a new paragraph. Grammar, spelling, and punctuation (including that unnecessary apostrophe in "Nazi's"—that's one of my pet peeves) looked first draft to me. You need to run your grammar and spelling checks, read and reread and revise this story, and have someone you trust copyedit it for you. A second pair of eyes is invaluable, especially if they're just looking out for technical errors.
0-5 Adherence to Prompt: This isn't just "Is Joan of Arc in the story." This is "Does she seem like Joan of Arc?" Historical innacuracies will come out of here, though I'll likely be the only one to dock for that.
2
Joan's inclusion in this story made little sense to me, and Joan herself wasn't very Joan-y. This could have used more historical research – you were clearly more comfortable in the other settings.
0-5 Spelling and Grammar: Sefl-esplanator.y Don't neglect this - Scavenger had a few spelling errors, and lost last round by half a point. These are not hard points to get, so don't take them for granted.
1.5
There are some really basic things here that you need to work on – primarily punctuation, but some spelling, too. Also—and this is also a style problem—your tenses are all over the place, which is extra confusing with all the time-jumping going on. Clearing up that alone would take great strides toward making this story appear more professional.
0-10 Characterization: How well are your characters (all of them) developed? Are they believable? Do they come alive to the readers, or are they just flat archetypes?
3
The characters are weakly developed, and seem enslaved to a meta-plot you fail to ultimately make clear. In a story involving clones, it's going to be hard to make characters distinct, but if you don't develop them or even pick one to share a POV, you're in trouble.
0-10 Plot and Structure: Does everything flow well? Does the story make coherant sense? Do we care about what happens, at the same time as not being able to see everything coming?
2
This really needs tightening up – the plot is baffling, in that it seems to change arbitrarily. What does dropping a Nazi anything into burning hay in 1412 actually accomplish? Why are people getting stabbed in the back?
0-10 Style: How effective your words are. How well you use symbolism, imagery, voice, and all those other mystical writing concepts.
3
The tense problem just kills you here, but so does the general rough feel of your style—I get the feeling you didn't self-edit or rewrite this much at all. The story isn't clear enough for you to get away with long strings of dialogue and so little background and scenic description. There are some smart turns of phrase, so I know you can use language descriptively. Take a hard look at the story yourself, with a copy of Strunk and White handy, and your style will become clearer.
0-10 Creativity: Just because you have to use a well-documented historical figure, doesn't mean you can't be creative about it.
5
It is creative, I'll give you that. But creative isn't compelling unless you justify why things are happening.
Total: 16.5
Out of all your information I feel this effects me the most. Although you do point out alot that needs fixing in my writing I feel I can do most of it.
I was having a hard time coming up with a role for Joan in any story - so when this one hit I went with it. Her role isn't very well put and pretty much down right baffling. Though I blame this to a few things I'm still taking the fall here.
I think I will do that. Thanks for the recomendation.
I was considering exspanding on the idea; though insperation hasn't exactly hit for it.
The others agree here. As do I. I've started to explain more of the world that my characters take place in in my stories now.
Most of your post contains information that I've gone back to in the last few days. So as not to draw this out I'll just put it blunt:
First off thanks for reading and replying. It means alot to aspiring authors. You've given me alot to think about and alot to work on which is more then others have on different websites. You've been very thorough in your judging and not just on my piece. I'll be taking your words to heart.
Again thanks for reading and replying and taking the time out to help us all.
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Cabalwannabe's Stories
So'for of the Vedalken
Vansen, Dreamer of Dreams
Clone of Joan
Aeriedle's Mission