Friday, November 18, 2011

Victims of the Knife: The NaNo Interviews 18

Twenty-five uniformed men march onto the desktop. One steps forward. “Excuse us, She Who Taps The Keys. We are looking for our Captain.”

“You and everyone else. Haven’t seen him.”

“He was supposed to ask you question today. He hasn’t been here yet?”

“I said I haven’t seen him. Is there something else, or can I get back to writing?”

The man turns and looks to the others. Several of them nod. He turns back to me. “Our beloved Captain has been missing for over a week. No trace of him has been found. We can only assume something horrible happened. We request your permission to elect a new captain.”

“A guy goes missing for a week and you’re all set to replace him? Not big on waiting are you?”

He leans in close and give me a conspiratorial nod. “I’ve rather had my eye on the position for years.”

Could it be? One of my impotent evildoers has a drop of ambition? Perhaps there is hope for them after all. “And just what kind of captain would you be? I’d like to see some changes. You Barthromians have been stagnant for decades.”

“Oh, me too.” He grins, which makes his eyes sparkle and a dimple show up on his cheek.

“Cut that out. Don’t ever grin again.”

“But,” he pouts, “I have so many plans. I have a vision!” He spays his fingers out and raises them high. The sparkle and dimple return. “New uniforms, something blue like Delilah’s eyes, and with some sequins! We’re so sick of these drab things! And pencils! We want pencils. One for each man, so we can play tic-tac-toe to hone our strategic skills. And that one,” he points to a blushing young man, “he would like to open a shelter for the dust bunnies. You see, they’re just lonely and misunderstood! They could be trained. They could become wonderful pets!”

I just sit, blinking, amazed at this glimpse into the Barthromian mind. Amazed, no, perhaps disturbed. Yeah, probably more that. “While I’m thinking that over, ask today’s question.”

“Of course.” He snaps to attention. “Who is the antagonist in your novel and what drives them?”

“There are several. The ex-best friend who has a chip on his shoulder the size of his dead wife and child. Kess, a returning bad guy who was good for a brief section of the last novel and is back to being bad, though perhaps reluctantly. He is trying to give the star system better leadership. It just happens not to jive with Mr. MCs vision, nor are his tactics appreciated. And then there’s the Council. Still there and still wanting expansion and domination over the known universe. Isn’t that what armies and plentiful resources to sustain them are for?”

He puts a hand over his gaping mouth. “They sound evil.”

“And you don’t. Request denied.”

Twenty-five sulky Barthromians shuffle off the desktop.

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