Category: How NOT to Save the World

How NOT to Save the World (S2, Season Finale)

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Season Content notes: fictional bigotry,

Joan waited in the darkness of the tunnel, and prayed as she hadn’t prayed in years. She’d stopped believing in God years ago and without God, she hadn’t seen the point in keeping the traditions and rituals. It hadn’t been until years later that she realized in walking away from those traditions, she’d also lost her people.

She’d never admitted how much that loss had hurt, not until she huddled in an improvised and reinforced escape tunnel listening to the dust and debris settling.

“Hear, O Israel –” she couldn’t hear anything except the ringing of her ears. Not even the words coming from her mouth. But she’d stopped /hearing/ the Shema and all it meant years before. It wasn’t just about God. It was about family. People. Belonging. The lord is one — /and so are we/.

And she had cut herself off from that.

Amal grabbed her hand, pulling her. Without thinking, she nodded (of course, he couldn’t see her) and grabbed Ahnold.

Carefully they felt their way through the tunnel, praying — figuratively this time — that it wouldn’t decide to collapse on them. On the other side, they shoved the washing machine out of the way and dusted each other off.

“What now?” Ahnold asked.

“We have to get out of here,” Sarge said. “We don’t want anyone to know we were there when that whatever it was went off.”

“Joan, are we free of the ward?” Amal asked.

She tried conjuring a small light spell. “Yeah.”

“Alright, try to get us out of here without the neighbors noticing. Then we’ll go around the block and split up. We’ll meet at the backup location in three days. We’ve all got emergency supplies in drops, so we should be okay until then.”

“Right.” Joan took her time setting up the stealth spells. They could not afford to rush. When she was done, they all crept upstairs and out the front door — the neighbors weren’t even home to notice them.

Once out the door, she saluted the team and headed west. Once she was in a safe place, she could use magic to try to find out who had attacked them. Not that there were many options. The usurper must have found them somehow. Nervously, Joan fingered the contact card she’d carried with her for 6 months. It didn’t have any trackers — tech or magical. She’d tested it six ways to Sunday. Besides, if the card had given them away, why hadn’t someone tried to take them out before now?

No, this had nothing to do with the kid. Something else had given them away. “I hope you’re okay kid,” she muttered to herself, “but I am so taking down your mom if I get the chance.”

Did the kid feel safe there? Did she have people she belonged with? Joan hoped so. But if the kid did, then Joan would be ripping them away from em.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Joan turned for her grandmother’s place. Savta might not be home, but she’d never mind Joan dropping in. And some time in her grandmother’s tradition-grounded space… Joan might not belong there anymore, but it would still be a comfort just then.

***

Lerato and her team got home late, exhausted, and messy. They’d heard about the explosion on the net when they were halfway to the location. Then they’d started running. The house was (obviously) in pieces when they got there. But the fire was out, and when they showed their EMS cards (fake), they’d been allowed to join in the efforts to dig through the ruins and look for survivors (or bodies). It had been Jolene who noticed the nearly-destroyed tunnel. She hadn’t said anything at the time but filled the others in on the way back to base.

The worst part was none of them saw anything about what had caused the explosion. The only thing they knew, was that something had happened before the explosion to alert The Dragon something was coming.

They’d been back at base only a short time when the phone rang.

Lerato and Jolene looked at the phone, looked at each other, looked back at the phone.

With a wince, Jolene answered the call. “Hello.”

“The code is braid, Chicago, 1400, Donagh was framed.”

“Yes, mx. We don’t have much to report. The house you said they were in exploded shortly before we arrived. We were able to insert ourselves into the ‘rescue’ operation. No bodies, but a possible escape tunnel. As far as we know, no one else noticed the tunnel.

“Mx, is there anything you can tell us about how you were alerted?”

“I’ll send copy you in the final report. Obviously, we are more interested in this group than we were when you received this task. I can tell you that we know they were in that house less than a half hour before I called you.

“Use that to get eyes on them again. I will be in touch.”

T-minus 1 year 64 days

Brigadier General Cheung of the Space Force was wrapping up (and looking forward to a late dinner) when someone knocked on their door.

“Come in,” they called, grumbling about last-minute things when they were trying to get out the door.

The grumbles cut off abruptly when Lu Xia Wu stepped into the office and closed the door behind hir.

“Would you mind turning off your surveillance briefly, general?” the dragon asked.

Cheung hesitated a moment, assessing their unexpected visitor. They would not be surprised if Lu Jia Wu was the dictator’s choice of assassin. But they couldn’t imagine the dragon would walk openly through Space Force’s main headquarters intent on an assassination.

They carefully keyed in the sequence that would turn off all surveillance in their office.

“Very well.”

“Thank you, general,” the dragon stepped further into the office. “May I sit?”

“Yes, of course,” Cheung hurried to wave to one of the seats across from their desk. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“No, thank you.” The dragon seated hirself and took a moment to look around the office. Zi nodded as if in approval. Cheung bristled a little — the lackey of an usurper had no right to pass judgment on them! But tried to keep their reaction off their face.

From the look on the dragon’s face, they failed.

“I was worried when she gave you control of Space Forces. As usual, she knew what she was doing.”

That was neither question nor command, so Cheung chose not to respond.

“You’ve extended Ms. Littlesun a great deal of trust, General. I hope you feel that trust has not been abused.”

Still, Cheung said nothing. This sounded like a fishing trip, but the dragon would not have come for a fishing trip.

“We have — largely through chance I must admit — learned that a group of rebels is planning to assassinate you, General. They believe they can kill you in a way that will implicate Ms. Littlesun.

“It will take some time, but we can track down the rebels who wish to attack you. However, if we capture them, we lose our chance to trace their communications back to the ones who gave them their orders.”

Cheung leaned back in their chair and steepled their fingers. These people always managed to come up with something completely unexpected.

“You wish to allow this attempt to proceed.”

“Yes, General.”

The general nodded. “You did not need to tell me this. You could have done as you wished.”

“That is not how trust is earned.”

Needed to wrap this season up early. Next week we’ll start a month of snippets followed by a new schedule that I had notes on… somewhere. Anyway, after Snippet month it’s Season 2 of The Bargain and continuing with What You Will.

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E5)

How NOT to Save the World (S2, E5)

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Season Content notes: fictional bigotry

Ho’neheso frowned as she listened to the transmission. Her ‘games’ with Wu had taught her to break security from the inside. No one in her father’s organization was better. But from the outside, she was a lot weaker. So there were a lot of reasons her bug might have gone silent just then.

The calling card she had given Joan all those months ago didn’t have any bugs or trackers on it. Ho’neheso had known better than to try. But she hadn’t needed to. Even before Wu had collected Ho’neheso from the park, the first night she’d met Joan, hir teams had been tracking her. It hadn’t taken them long to find her public information. Nothing in it had tripped any red flags, though. Ho’neheso had done a deeper scan herself but hadn’t had any hint of Joan’s involvement with her Dad’s enemies until Joan herself admitted it.

Still, knowing who Joan was had made it possible — not easy, but possible — to eventually track her down. Arranging the bugs in their hideout had been harder — especially without Wu finding out.

Ho’neheso hadn’t wanted Wu or her Dad knowing that Joan was an enemy. When her conscience started bugging her, she reminded herself that it was traditional for the Evil Overlord’s daughter to have a crush on the Hero. (There were several notes about it on her Dad’s Evil Overlord List.)

And if her Dad insisted on being the Evil Overlord, that made Joan the Hero, right?

Her conscience hadn’t given her much trouble, though. For over six months, Joan and her friends hadn’t said anything about the rebellion. There’d been nothing Ho’neheso could have reported except that Joan and her friends didn’t like Ma’evoto. Which made them no different than the majority of the world. (Ho’neheso thought. According to Wu, her Dad’s approval numbers were going up. But not by that much.)

Except now she had heard something. She’d heard them plotting to attack General Cheung and blame it on her Dad. Right before the transmission cut out.

If Joan and her friends had found the bugs, they would have shut the bugs down before talking about killing General Cheung. Right?

And if they hadn’t shut down the bugs something else had. Or someone.

Someone like one of Wu’s strike teams. Or Gene’s action teams. Which meant Wu already knew everything, and Joan and her friends were… Ho’neheso swallowed and rubbed at the blue triangle in the center of her shirt. It had been Joan who’d helped her be okay with being a girl. She owed Joan.

And if it wasn’t her Dad’s people? If it was someone else?

Then Joan might be in real trouble.

Ho’neheso swallowed again and picked up her comm. She wanted check on her friend, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t make it even halfway through Wu’s security without time to prepare. But Wu and her Dad had told her she could come to them with anything. No matter what.

And if they could, they would make it right.

They hadn’t let her down yet.

“Wu? I need you to help a friend.”

***

Lerato was pissed. Over 20 days trying to track down this rebel team, and every lead came up dead. She’d known better than to think it would be easy, especially with the sparse information higher had been able to pass on to them. But she was pissed. Jolene had pinned her down and was rubbing her shoulders, trying to get her to relax, but it wasn’t helping.

“We know they are in this city–”

“Were.”

“Just how hard can it be to find a group of people with a technomage and a skeletal cyborg in a city of 1 billion people? They can’t be that–”

The phone rang.

Ani jumped to check the number. “Unknown.” She shrugged and answered it, activating a tracking app as she did. “Hello?”

“This is The Dragon. The code is braid, Chicago, 1400, Donagh was framed.”

Ani’s eyes got wider and wider as the voice spoke. When it finished, she choked out, “Acknowledged.”

“The team you were supposed to track has been found. You are receiving an anonymous SMS message with their address now. Something is happening. Your team needs to get down there, see what is going on, make sure that team is safe, and, if necessary, keep them out of police custody or the hospital.

“We need that team alive and as well as possible. I am taking a personal interest in this matter and will call later for an update.”

“Yes, mx. We’re moving now!”

The phone clicked, but already Jolene and Lerato were on their feet. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain on the way,” Ani said. “That was The Dragon.”

“Fuck.” The Dragon did not make direct calls to the cell-based action teams. The breach of security alone…

The team was up and running in under ten minutes. They didn’t know what was going on, but it had to be important.

***

In hir office in the World Government building, Wu sighed and turned to Ho’neheso. “I’ve done what I can. I wish you had come to your Dad or me before this, but… I understand why you didn’t.”

Ho’neheso glomped on hir and squeezed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Wu shook hir head. “Don’t thank me yet, daughter-of-my-heart. I’ve trained you better than that.”

Ho’neheso stared at hir a moment, then looked away. “You already knew about them, just not where to find them. You had a team assigned to them.” She swallowed. “What are you going to do to them?”

“Nothing yet.”

The door opened, Ma’evoto stuck his head in. “Wu, I got your alert. Everything okay?”

“For now, my friend. But it seems your daughter has much to tell us about a friend of hers. This one has a team investigating now.”

“Alright,” Ma’evoto said with a sigh. “Can it at least wait until dinner?”

“This one believes so. And Ho’neheso? You will get the answer to your question — or as much as we can give you — then.”

She did not like that answer, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.

***

When the lights went out, the team all reached for weapons. Or, in Joan’s case, her tablet. Ahnold took the lead, heading for the stairs. “The door is stuck,” he said. “I can break it. I don’t hear anyone.”

Joan finished sketching her spell into the tablet, then cursed as it fizzled before her eyes. “Someone’s got a mage ward on this place. A good one.”

“We’re under attack,” Amal said. “Get to the escape tunnel.”

As a group, they turned and moved to the back of the basement. The escape tunnel was an actual tunnel leading to their neighbor’s basement laundry room. The tunnel exit was hidden behind the washer machine and a light illusion. They’d never expected to need it, but Amal insisted — just in case.

With Ahnold bringing up the rear, they started moving through the tunnel — just as the explosion brought their house down

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How NOT to Save the World (S2 Finale)

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E1)
How NOT to Save the World (S2, E4)

How NOT to Save the World (S2 E4)

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Season Content notes: fictional bigotry

T-minus 1 year 65 days

Amal squatted down in the middle of the room and looked at his team. Joan held up the wall while she fiddled with her tablet. Amal didn’t ask what she was doing — he knew he wouldn’t understand anyway. On the chair next to her, Ahnold sat at attention and glared a hole through the Amal. (Not literally. He didn’t have laser eyes, even when he wasn’t wearing his skin suit.) In the other corner, Sarge was sitting on the floor surrounded by a disassembled gun or 10.

When Amal took his glasses off and tucked them away, Joan and Sarge stopped what they were doing to focus on him. Ahnold, of course, did not.

“The Council has a mission for us,” he said. “It’s an assassination.”

That got Ahnold’s attention. “We are finally going after the usurper?”

“No.” Amal braced himself. “They want Colonel — excuse me, General Cheung taken out.”

“What!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“Cheung is not the enemy.”

“Right,” Amal nodded. “Cheung was always one of the good guys. But as much as I hate to say it, they just got a promotion. Why? They’ve been stuck at colonel for over a decade. What did they do — or agree to — to finally get stars?

“The Council knows more than we do, and they’re the legitimate government.”

Joan, in a rare display of temper, stomped around the room for a minute. When she stopped, she was glaring at Amal. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Amal shook his head and stood up to face her. “They want us to make it look like the Bastard ordered it.”

“So this isn’t really about Cheung or anything he’s done. It’s a maneuver.

“We’re supposed to be the good guys, Amal.”

They were in the basement. Cliche but one of the easiest ways to deter physical snooping was still solid concrete and dirt. Amal wished, desperately, for a window. He wanted to see distance, the horizon. Something to remind him of the big picture and the peace it could give.

“We are the good guys, Joan,” he said. “But being the good guys doesn’t make this a fairy tale. We need to keep our eyes on the goal. Sometimes that means making some hard choices.”

“Maybe,” Sarge said from his corner. “I don’t like what I’m hearing, the type of people the Council is recruiting… Hard choices we got, and maybe not the obvious ones.”

Amal sighed and rubbed his head. “I know. I know. But with the Bastard having so many nonhumans supporting him, it was inevitable that folks afraid of them would support us. And the Council isn’t actively recruiting the haters. In fact, I received warnings against working with them. They aren’t to be trusted.”

“That’s something. I just…”

“We’re the good guys,” Amal smiled, “We want to act like it. But even the good guys need to get a bit dirty sometimes.”

Reluctantly, Joan nodded. “I don’t like it. But you may be right. And that Bastard is sure as hell wrong, so…”

“So let’s get planning.”

And the light’s cut out.

What? No. I didn’t run out of time to write this. It’s an artistic choice. Really, you people…

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E5)

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E3)

How NOT to Save the World (S2, E3)

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Season Content notes: fictional bigotry

“Thank you for meeting with me after hours, Major,” Colonel Bo Cheung, commander of the Space Forces, said as Major Shin of M9 slid onto the bar stool next to them. A public bar might have seemed an odd place for two high-ranking military officers to meet. Especially these high-ranking officers. But this bar was a favorite hangout for many Space Forces personnel, and Cheung had their reasons for choosing it.

Shin didn’t seem to notice e was the only non-Space Forces person in the building — even the bartender and wait-person were ‘retired’ Space Forces. (Unlike the old US Marine Corp, there was such a thing as a ‘former Space Force,’ but you wouldn’t find any of them here.) “Colonel. I’m happy — and under orders — to do anything I can to support the Space Force.

“Before we get down to business, though, I was asked if I’d be willing to backchannel a… personnel matter.” The major signaled for the bartender and ordered something on tap.

“A personnel matter?” Cheung asked. “That sounds suitably ominous. Out with it, Major.”

“It is not meant to be ominous. You are more aware than I am of the work that goes into running Space Forces. With how much it’s grown in the last six months, it is no longer really a colonel’s command.”

The bartender glared at Shin as she passed over the major’s beer, and so did several soldiers close enough to ‘happen to overhear.’ Shin ignored them.

“You were not offered a promotion when you moved to Space Forces both to avoid the appearance of a bribe and because it was believed you would not accept one. Since we were meeting anyway, I was asked to find out if you would now be open to accepting a promotion to Brigadier General.”

The room had grown hushed, and Cheung slowly looked around. Many soldiers found reasons to be busy with their drinks or food, and the noise level returned to something approaching normal. Then Cheung looked at Shin — a look just short of a glare.

“It is said the military runs on paperwork, Major, but I have found it also runs on gossip.”

Shin grinned. “Have you, Colonel? I must admit I had noticed the same. Did you plan to discuss something gossip-worthy this evening?”

Cheung’s almost glare broke off with a little chuckle. “Alright, Major. You can tell… her… that I will not argue if she chooses to offer a promotion. This time.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m sure higher will be happy to hear it.”

The bartender returned, and Cheung accepted two small shot glasses and a bottle of baijiu. Pouring the glasses full, they offered one to Shin.

Shin accepted the glass with a somewhat put-upon expression and tapped a finger on the bar top. Cheung picked up their glass, saying, “To military intelligence — may it not be an oxymoron!” Shin held his glass up as well, and when Cheung said, “Ganbei!” e tossed it back with a grimace.

Then followed it up with a long drink of beer.

Cheung laughed and clapped em on the back. “You are a good sport, Major Shin, even if you are a disgrace to Mother China.”

“Should I ask how you learned I don’t like baijiu? Or should I just accept that whoever failed to recruit you for M9 should be shot?”

Cheung laughed again and poured themself (and only themself) another glass. “I am good at reading personnel files. Including what is not there,” they said, “Now. What news do you have for me?”

Shin sighed and grabbed a handful of pretzels. “Not much, I’m afraid. We have some new projections of possible threat levels, and progress on Project Apollo goes well.” Project Apollo was the name of the great lasers being created by Ameohne’e pet engineer. “I also have proposals from T for several new ship and boat designs.

E popped another pretzel in eir mouth and slid the computer ship e had palmed onto the table for Cheung to pick up. Cheung did with a grimace. “That is something. I worry we focus too much on a few bit weapons and not enough on the small things.”

Shin grunted. ” ‘An army marches on its stomach’ and good boots.

“Yes, she is not military, and it shows. Do you have specific needs? We are limited only in time, and higher says you get anything you want, reasonable or not. But you are the one who best knows the logistics needs you will face.”

“I…” Cheung picked up the computer chip and a few pretzels, slipping the first into a pocket. “…am not sure. It is hard for me to take seriously. And not the kind of task Space Forces is used to.”

“Colonel, you understand that preparing for absurd situations is part of what M9 does? I swear that somewhere there is a team devoted to planning how to hold off an amphibious attack from Emperor Penguins. Or another Emu War.”

Cheung started, then started choking on a pretzel. After they could speak again, they asked incredulously, “Another?”

“Old news, Australia lost,” Shin grinned. “And I believe the old Americans would have called it a ‘police action.’ ”

“Lost. To… Emus? Those big birds that are the closest we’ll ever see to the raptorial dinosaurs?”

“No… I think those were ostriches.” Shin called up a hologram of a tall brown bird with an evil-looking orange glare, “Emus are their less scary cousins.”

“Humans lost a war… to giant birds.” Cheung shook their head. “And you and I are supposed to figure out how to survive…” they trailed before finishing their thought. That was not anything they wanted to be gossiped about.

Shin grinned and finished off eir beer. “Does kind of put it in perspective, doesn’t it? Sir.”

Cheung shook their head. “It is a good thing you are all delusional, and this is not a real threat.”

The grin disappeared from Shin’s face. “With all due respect, sir, we have a duty to treat it as a real threat, regardless of your personal beliefs. If you cannot do so, send me officers who can.”

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E4)

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E2)

Happy (Belated) Birthday to Me! (Have a Party Favor)

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

I debated a lot about what I wanted to do for today’s newsletter, and then a PTSD flare-up made it impossible for me to get any writing done. So the decision taken out of my hands (somewhat).

If you haven’t yet, remember to pick up a copy of Bound by His Oath on Smashwords, Amazon, and a few other places! And if you have grabbed it, please remember to leave reviews on Amazon, Smashwords, and Storygraph.

Many readers don’t know that books require a certain number of reviews to be included in promotional things like BookBub or Amazon newsletters, so reviews really do make a difference. A review doesn’t need to be long, just writing “I liked it!” counts.

I will be writing a sequel to Bound (sooner or later). The next story won’t be about Eveline — not yet. First we’ll be sooner how much more trouble Sir John can get himself into, and who might be willing to help him get out of it. Unfortunately, it will at least a year before we see that, but lots of other great stories in the meantime.

(Sometimes what comes out of my keyboard just reads so cliche marketer speak? Am I the only one who feels that way? Unfortunately, I can’t find better words, so moving on.)

Very few folks know that I originally started work on How NOT to Save the World nearly 10 years ago. At first, it was supposed to be a webcomic. Unfortunately, the artist I was working with backed out, and I ran into some plot problems, and it basically sat around collecting dust for a while.

I do still have many of the original webcomic scripts. Want to see how things have changed?

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E2)

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Season Content notes: fictional bigotry

T-minus 1 year 85 days

Lerato Schlender squeezed her partner Johlene’s hand and looked around the room. Officially, the cell network that supported the coup was dismantled. The message boards were made semi-public so most anyone could join.

Unofficially, Lerato and a few others had pulled together a new, tighter, cell network of trusted comrades. Lerato’s team, though, was the same one she had fought with throughout the coup. They’d nearly died (or killed each other) more than once. But now they were the tightest team at Ma’evoto’s disposal and the reason Lerato had been invited onto the council.

Like most members of the team, Lerato looked human but wasn’t. They dressed and acted to blend in, and their IDs said human, which pre-coup had given them access to places many magical people were cut off from.

They hadn’t thought the coup would magically fix everything, but they had thought they would be done with their human aliases. They might have been wrong.

“We have two jobs.” Lerato told her team. “We need to take one ourselves and pass the other one on.

“The first is the most dangerous. Higher wants to get some our of folks recruited by ‘the good guys’.”

Like many magical creatures, especially among Ma’evoto’s people, they had owned the labels ‘monster’ and ‘evil’. They were the bad guys, the villain protagonists of the story who were going to kick ‘the heroes’ ass because fuck so-called heroes anyway.

“Higher thinks that at least a few of the old so-called ‘elected’ leaders are running the resistance. They’ve got the start of a cell structure, but it’s tinker toys compared to what we’re used to. Ideally, two of us would be recruited, with the rest running support and backup.

“The other job is less risky, but may be more critical. Like I said, the other side is running a tinker-toy cell structure, and some of their cells have been identified. A few of those cells haven’t been broken up, because higher has further use for them.

“One of those cells has been given to us to shadow. The cell we’re looking for has gone to ground, so we’ll need to find it, then keep it from disappearing again.

“We are not to interfere with it unless we get orders from higher or they are doing something that will kill civilians.”

“Good,” Ani muttered from the back. Ani was a rarity even in their magical world — and an actual vampire: died and reborn with a hunger for blood. Most of those rare vampires were truly monstrous, reflecting the pre-Stoker folktales. But a few of them, such as Ani, realized that they could fight against their instincts; could be something other than a monster. Though it was a near thing, Ani had controlled herself long enough to reach her town’s wise woman. After the return of magic, they had appeared in Eastern Europe like dandelions in spring and were just as tenacious. Ani more than any of them understood how easy it was to let laziness or lack of care create innocent victims.

She (since her rebirth Ani literally covered herself in triangles — including a few tattoos) looked at each of her fellows in turn, waiting for a nod or agreement. They gave it, of course.

“Any word from Mama Stoica?” Johlene murmured.

“Two,” Ani said with a smile, “she managed to save both of them. She promised to introduce us next time ‘work’ gives me a month off.”

Lerato cleared her throat, “Back to business, folks,” but she smiled at Ani as she said it. Two more vampires saved since Ma’evoto took power was very good news as far as the team was concerned.

Johlene shook her head, “I’m surprised we even got that first job. I know most of you can blend, but I’m the only actual human, and the ‘good guys’ can’t be foolish enough to let recruits in without testing them.

“The rebellion is doubling down on their bigotry. I’ve been approached three times in the last month by folks wanting to ‘commiserate’ on how rough it is to be human these days. Nothing overt but… I think some rumor of Mama Stoica’s work is getting out because the last one was talking about humans being locked up in blood brothels.”

“What the hell?” “Fuck!” “How dare they!” “Oy ve…”

Johlene nodded. “I know. And they’re the good guys, right?”

“Only in their delusions.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I am 100% villain. I even have a membership card!”

“Yes, you got it out of a cereal box.”

This time Lerato whistled.

“Johlene’s right,” Benjy said. He was a leprechaun, and you asked him about pots of gold at your peril. You asked him why a creature of Irish folklore had an English name at even greater peril. “But I think she’s trying not to mention that we had our own traitor two years ago. I know we think that… that…,” failing to find a strong enough insult, he growled and moved on, “didn’t get much information out, but it’s still possible they identified some of us.”

“I doubt it,” Lerato said, “We accomplished a lot since ditching that asshole, I can’t imagine they wouldn’t have targetted us before now if they could have. Still, better safe. On both counts.

“Kay-kay, we’ll pass the infiltration on to… Pan’s team, you think?”

“They usually know what they’re about.”

“And they’ve got at least two humans, right?”

Ani shook her head — Pan’s team was hers. “You know I can’t confirm that. But they’ll do well with it.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

“That leaves us the shadowing.” Lerato pulled up a grainy security image on her PDD and projected it onto the wall. “This is our first view of them. They were involved in an attack on a warehouse right after the coup. We think there’s five of them, including one technomage, but only two showed up on the security cam.

“As you can see, one is an android, unusual design. You’d think he’d be easy to track, and the security teams did back-track him and identify some of the people he spent time with. He disappeared right after this. Someone in the nerd branch back-tracked his design to a 200-year-old movie and suggested that he might have a ‘skin suit’ he can wear when he wants to blend in and look human…

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E3)

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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E1)

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

They’re back! You can re-read Season 1 on my website.

You may recall that last year our Evil Overlord had a different name/gender on the website and newsletter. This year we’re flipping them. So Newsletter Season 2 has Ameohne’e/she and Website Season 2 will have Ma’evoto/he. I’d say sorry for any confusion but…

T-minus 1 year 92 days

Ma’evoto leaned back in his chair and finished off his beer. “Nine months. We made it nine fucking months.”

Around him were the few members of the revolution’s unofficial leadership who had actual government roles. Wu and Deborah, of course, but also Major Shin, Gene, and a few others.

When Ma’evoto’ss daughter, Ho’neheso, had suggested a party for the first anniversary of her father’s rule, everyone in the room had cringed. There was no way the holdouts (Ma’evoto refused to dignify them with the term ‘rebels’) wouldn’t use the anniversary as a chance to try to cause trouble. But a party had still sounded like a good idea.

So, they bumped the date up a few months.

“So we did,” Wu saluted him. “You have exceeded everything your servant dared to hope for. Your rule is secure. Cheung is committed to you and the Space Force with them. Tessaro makes good progress on our defenses. And…” zi held up a hand to get everyone’s attention. “… attacks by the holdouts have dropped off by 50% in the last two months. Your servant believes they are finally wearing themselves out.”

That was met by a general cheer.

“Oh, hush!” Deborah grumped. “No business tonight. The next person to bring up official government business doesn’t get any cheese blintzes.”

Gene gasped. “Cruel and unusual punishment! That’s against the law.”

“Is it?” Ma’evoto smirked. “I might need to change that.”

“Oooh!” Gene wagged a finger at him. “Don’t say that where the camera drones might catch you!”

Ma’evoto stood up and struck a pose. “I must! My approval numbers are over 50%. If I don’t do something properly evil soon, I’ll lose my membership in the evil overlord club and need to take down my Evil Overlord list.”

Shin, off duty (official and unofficial) for once, was in the corner with Ho’neheso talking fandom. For security reasons, neither of them took part in any fan sites or discussion groups, but they lurked endlessly and had their own private shipping wars. Looking up from the art Ho’neheso was showing them, Shin said mildly, “Wu, your master is developing delusions of grandeur.”

“Bit late for that!” Wu snorted.

“Um…” Aliz, who replaced a fled bureaucrat in budgeting, put a hand up. “It’s none of my business, but I’ve always been curious. What’s with the ‘this one’ and ‘your servant’ stuff? You two have been together as long as the rest of us have known you. But you don’t tend to share much.”

Ma’evoto and Wu looked at each other and smiled. “It’s your’s to tell Wu. If you want to.

“You would tell it better anyway.”

Wu snorted. “That is surely true!” The dragon rubbed at the golden scales on hir cheek a moment. “So. It began nearly 15 years ago. This one had traveled to North America and found a very energetic kink community…”

***

They met in darkness and secrecy. Slipping in one at a time, cowls, veils, and cloaks pulled close so none could see them.

“This cannot be allowed to stand!” One said. Ey was only partly concealed, eir confrontational nature (announced to all the world by their power suit covered with bold geometric patterns) not letting them hide. “It’s been over 9 months since that bastard ousted us and we have achieved nothing.”

“Calmly, Ayyub,” another replied. They were veiled and wore a generic cheap lounge suit will flowing skirt. But the old-style pocket PDA they checked as they spoke was worth more than many houses and their accent spoke of generations of wealth and education. “None of us is taking this ‘Ma’evoto’ quietly, or we wouldn’t be here. But some things take time.”

“Hugh is right,” said a man whose face was obscured not but cloth, but magic. He carried a staff that shone softly in the dim room and smiled gently at his colleagues. “Evil doers can do harm faster than we can heal it, but they always are undone by their own evil in the end.”

“I have the latest reports from our cell leaders,” said a quiet woman. She moved around the room handing out old-fashioned paper folders to each member of the council. “My own assessment is that our initial operations allowed us to winnow out the ineffective or uncommitted while convincing… him… that we can’t mount a real challenge.”

Another member of the council took his copies with a smile. “Very good, Thierry!” He was the first to sit down, shaking out his business skirt first to be sure it fell right and began skimming through the file. “You always come through.”

“Yes, well done,” murmured a short woman who was fully covered in a heavy cloak and veil. “Let’s see what we have then. The sooner we can get rid of the interloper, the sooner things will return to normal. I have a farm to get back to.”

“Thank you, Hina, Rosa.” The quiet woman, Theirry, was the last to sit down. She stayed on the edge of her seat, ready to get up in a moment if anyone needed anything.

No one said anything for a time as they read through the files.

After a few minutes, Hina sighed. “I don’t like how many of our people have been captured or killed. I know the cell system is necessary, but there has to be some way we can give them more support.”

“Not without more risk than we can afford,” Ayyub replied. “We need to stay compartmentalized.”

Fingers tapped the table in a gentle pattern as Hugh leaned back and crossed his legs. “I wonder how he did it? You know he didn’t have a standard cell set up.”

The mage scowled. “He combined magic with technology. Abomination, but it allowed him secure communication that we didn’t even know how to look for. Now that I know it is there, I am tracing their network.”

“Why can’t you do the same, Fernão?” Ayyub demanded.

“It is an abomination! We cannot defeat evil by becoming it.”

“Excuse me?” Thierry raised her hand. “I’m sorry to correct you, Hugh, but I think the proper word is ‘does.’ How he does it.

“If I’m reading the reports right, he’s still running her underground cells; those cells are hurting us more than any official security teams.”

“We won’t beat him by challenging his strength,” Rosa said. “We need to attack where he is weak.”

“Sun Tzu,” Hugh commented, “Ancient Chinese sage. Not particularly original.”

Rosa glared at him. “It works.”

“Agreed,” Fernão said, “But where is he weak?”

“He thinks he has the high ground.”

***

 

I’m not going to try to footnote tropes the way I did last year. But I will be listing a few tropes that went into each post at the end — see if you can recognize them, and feel free to comment with other’s you recognize.

Recap

The Omniscient Council of Vagueness

Benevolent Mage Ruler

Lady in Waiting

Cinncinatus

Gentleman and a Scholar

Benevolent Boss

Geo Effects

Shout Out

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How NOT to Save the World (S1, E1)
How NOT to Save the World (S1 Finale)
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How NOT to Save the World (S2, E2)

How NOT to Save the World (S1, Season Finale)

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Season Content Notes (incomplete): violence, anti-nonhuman bigotry, consensual violence

After Cheung left, Ameohne’e paced the room, eventually finding herself standing in front of her framed copy of The Evil Overlord List. “Number 15: I will never employ any device with a digital countdown.”

She shook her head and checked the countdown tracker. Of course, it said exactly what she expected. Her meeting with Cheung hadn’t even lasted an hour.

Wu and Deborah came in and stood behind her.

“Was I wrong? Was there another way?”

Wu and Deborah glanced at each other. “My friend…” Wu trailed off.

“Of course there was another way.” Deborah smacked her. “There were lots of other ways. Would any of them have worked? Were you capable of following them? Will daisies begin singing?

“Who cares? You picked the best path you could, and so far it is working. What more do you want, the voice of God to guide your steps? Tough luck, the Age of Prophetcy ended 3,000 years ago.”

Ameohne’e rubbed the side of her head and looked at Wu. “I suppose you’re going to give it to me too?”

“This one would never speak so.” Wu gave an almost mocking bow. “But you ride upon the tiger. Wonder ‘what if’ when we all survive this.”

Ameohne’e took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright. Alright. Cheung isn’t on board, but ey isn’t going to cause trouble right now.”

“This one will message Shin, she is best suited to being Cheung fully on board.”

Ameohne’e turned away from the List. “Good. If Shin can get Cheung on board, then we’ll bump up the schedule for going public.

“Deborah, I should have asked yesterday, but any new updates from our collection of seers?”

“What little new came in was also contradictory. Overall analysis shows our chances of success dropping.” Ameohne’e and Wu grimaced. “I’m hopeful that was just the risk of Cheung turning on us, and the numbers will improve over the next week.”

“How bad are we looking at?”

Deborah hesitated. “Last night’s results gave us one in three of enough people surviving on Earth to rebuild when everything is over.”

“Well. That’s reassuring.” Ameohne’e rubbed her eyes. “Wu, do whatever you need to get us a night off. I need some family time; remember what we’re fighting for.

“Join us, Deborah?”

Deborah smiled but shook her head. She enjoyed being an unofficial grandmother to Ho’neheso when she got the chance, but tonight she had other commitments. “My granddaughter has consented to join me for dinner tonight. I’ll bring leftover kugel to share tomorrow.”

Ameohne’e took a deep breath, straightened her back, and nodded. “That’s for tonight. For now, back to work.

That evening, Deborah slipped out of the World Government building, looking not much different from any member of the cleaning staff. Like Ameohne’e, she had taken a new name within the rebellion. Unlike Ameohne’e, she never ‘died’ in her old life. She had simply lived two separate lives. A challenge at her age, but one worth doing. With a bit of care, some cosmetic changes any community theater could pull off, and the slightest bit of magic, she could show up on international news and not even her family could recognize her.

It wouldn’t last forever, of course. But once she went public, she dragged her granddaughter into the limelight with her. That, she wanted to avoid as long as possible.

Sadly, neither her daughter nor granddaughter had ever been interested in the study of Torah and Talmud necessary to become a Baal Shem. But they had their own paths to walk, their own purposes to fulfill in the world.

Avigail, as she was known in her private life, reached home without incident and started work on a simple kugel for dessert. She had just put the kugel in the oven when the fronted door opened.

A woman with short spikey hair in a long trench coat with a subtle triangle pattern running around the hem strode into the kitchen carrying a takeout bag.

“Joan!” Avigail smiled and opened her arms for a hug. “Running late again; your job keeps you too busy.

“What did you bring for dinner?”

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Season 2

Well, that’s going to be a problem sooner or later.

We’re saying goodbye to our Evil Overlord and her friends and enemies for now, but they’ll be back next season.

In the mean time, we’ll be starting a new story. This is one of my rare pieces of contemporary fiction and an experiment in the kishotenketsu story structure which is popular (in several variations and names) in East Asia.

Family is supposed to be natural. Spontaneous.

Relationships are supposed to be born out of star dust and moon beam.

Love isn’t supposed to be something you decide to feel.

Emeka won’t wait any longer.

Orli doesn’t like star dust.

Andi always needs a plan.

They are done with ‘supposed to.’

Together, they are

Building Family

The first 6 posts of Building Family are already up on my Substack. If you want to get caught up, pick a paid subscription option today.

How NOT to Save the World, S1 E11

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Season Content Notes (incomplete): violence, anti-nonhuman bigotry, consensual violence

T minus 1 year 235 days

Ameohne’e welcomed Colonel Cheung and their subordinates into her office and waited until Wu left the room. Colonel Cheung’s eyebrows rose as they realized that Ameohne’e was meeting with them alone. Even with modern security, that was a significant sign of trust.

Cheung introduced their subordinates, and Ameohne’e offered drinks, which were politely declined. Then Ameohne’e got down to business.

“Gentlefolk, I appreciate you being willing to talk. For what it’s worth, Colonel Cheung, I always intended to have this discussion with you. I had simply hoped to build a stronger working relationship first.”

“Very well, Ms Littlesun. For now, I will accept your assurances at face value. Perhaps, however, you might share with me why you felt it necessary to create that specific… special project… in the first place.”

“I’ll do that. But first, I want to say that my goal today is not to convince you to believe me. Or to convince you to do anything other than what you’ve already been doing. If you walk out the door thinking I’m insane but are willing to keep doing your job, I’ll count that a win. I asked you to bring some of your staff partly as an assurance that this meeting wasn’t a setup. But also, on the off chance that you believe me, you’ll need some people you trust on the inside to start making plans with.” She stood up and moved to the small dry bar. “Excuse me. I know it’s rude to drink alone, but I’ve been anticipating this conversation for over eight years. Liquid courage and all that.”

Cheung took a moment to absorb everything Ameohne’e had said — and not said.

“Ms Littlesun, I also hope we will come out of this meeting with a working relationship. And, as I have thought you insane for quite some time now, I doubt anything you say today will change my opinion.

“I would, however, appreciate information. May I suggest you follow the advice of an old Englishman and ‘Begin at the beginning.”

“Continue through the middle, and when you get to the end, stop?” Ameohne’e tossed back the ouzo she had poured and shrugged. “I’ll try. Though we haven’t gotten to the end yet.” She poured himself another shot, then capped the bottle and put it away.

“Do you believe in prophecy, Colonel Cheung? Or in destiny?”

“Magical predictions of the future? Of course. We live in a world powered by magic. Predictions are tricky; many become self-fulfilling. Others never come true because people take action to change them — intentionally or otherwise.

“Destiny, I am suspicious of. This story begins with a foretelling, I take it.”

“My version of the story begins with a vision quest. Oh, there was a prophecy before that, but I thought it was a joke. Random person stopping me on the street, not something I was inclined to take seriously at the time.

“But I was in a bit of a bad way at the time, my divorce from my wife was finalized after several years of separation, I’d just met Wu, was on the outs with my father.” She shrugged. “It’s a familiar story, I’m sure.”

The senior NCO who had come with Cheung snorted. “Very familiar, sir.”

“I decided not to be a complete fool about it and sought out my tribe’s… wise woman, you might call her. She helped me on a vision quest.

“Are you familiar with vision quests, Colonel?”

“Not particularly.”

“They are usually very personal, but sometimes they have a …wider import. Mine warned of a great danger coming. Something with the potential to destroy the world.”

Cheung’s eyes narrowed. “You believed this vision quest. And rather than warn anyone, you decided to set yourself up as dictator and savior.”

“I’m a controlling, power-hungry bastard, colonel. I’ve never denied it.

“But before you ride off on your high horse, you might talk with Deborah or some of the other mystics in my organization. I’m not the only one who received a warning, and others did try to warn the government; for what good it did them.

“There’s a reason such a high percentage of magic workers follow me. Actually, I’m not sure why me and not someone else — unless it’s just that I’m driven and ruthless enough to see it through. But a reason they share my goals and support me. I know damn well why they didn’t follow my predecessors.”

Cheung grimaced. They could have argued, but… not very well.

“At the moment, Ms Littlesun, the greatest danger I see to the world is you. No one else is building a weapon powerful enough to destroy the world. Your pet engineer is doing just that.”

“Three lasers, actually. Collectively powerful enough to destroy the world. We couldn’t manage a single laser of that power.”

Cheung blinked. “Forgive me if that does not reassure me. Or answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask a question, but I know what you meant.

“In approximately 1 year and 8 months, we will be invaded, conquered, and wiped out, unless we can find a way to stop it.”

“Invaded by who? You lead the world government! There is no one else in the… world…”

Ameohne’e nodded as understanding dawned in Cheung’s eyes. “Want that drink now?”

“Please.”

After Ameohne’e poured and passed the drinks, Cheung said, “I see now why you expected me to question your sanity, Ms Littlesun.

“I will need time to think on this.”

Ameohne’e nodded and looked out her windows. “Some of us have done our best to develop… you can’t exactly call it ‘intelligence’… on the threat. Whatever scraps we can piece together. Major Shin at F9 will be available to discuss that with you if you want.

“Questions of my sanity aside, Colonel, do you have any other concerns I can address today?”

Colonel Cheung Bo of the World Space Force shook their head. “No. Though I would appreciate being copied on new weapons development proposals in the future.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Then, with your permission, I think we’re done here. Ma’am.”

Ameohne’e didn’t even try to hide her relief. “Thank you, Colonel Cheung.” For a moment, her eyes went hard and flat, reminding Cheung of the odd moment in the first meeting. They recognized it now. Fanaticism. For all her casual manner and charm, the world’s new dictator was as great a fanatic as any in history. “Hold the orbitals, Cheung.”

There was only one answer any member of the Space Forces could give to that order. “Yes, Ma’am.” Because that was what Space Forces did.

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How NOT to Save the World (S1, Season Finale)

How NOT to Save the World, S1 E10

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Season Content Notes (incomplete): violence, anti-nonhuman bigotry, consensual violence

T-Minus 1 year 240 days

Though the public didn’t know it, the two dozen people gathered in the large dining room were most of the true leaders of the rebellion-turned-dictatorship. Two-thirds of them were magic users or mystics, three-quarters non-humans. They sat in a circle in long-established sequence, ordered by the length of their service. Service to their greater cause and Ameohne’e (in that order). It was a system Ameohne’e had introduced shortly after her death and funeral. Few knew where she learned it from, but it had worked for them.

The people gathered there did not all hold official positions. Wu was there, of course, at Ameohne’e’s right hand. And Deborah, a few spots down the circle from Wu. But some were like Claudia. The low-level security guard had no interest in advancing, but everyone knew she was the go-to if you had an on-the-job problem you couldn’t go to your seniors about. Or Goran, who had worked the laundry in the old hidden base and now did whatever odd job needed doing. He had a chronically wet shoulder from being the substitute parent figure for everyone who knew him — even people three times his age.

Shin, the highest-ranking member of the military to join the rebellion (and survive — she had been one of the people to argue for Winehurst’s… permanent dismissal. But then, she’d had more dealings with the man than most) stood to lay out the background for the meeting. “As most of us know, Colonel Cheung Bo leads the Space Forces because the Forces are loyal to them, and they will support the status quo as long as Ameohne’e does not cross a line they cannot live with. That line being deliberate harm to civilians. Cheung has no loyalty to Ameohne’e, no knowledge of this circle, and no idea of what our true cause is.

“There have always been plans to bring in both Colonel Cheung and other top military leaders, but we had wanted time to cement the loyalty of the troops before taking such a risky step.

“Five days ago, Cheung learned that Tamrat Tessaro has been begun work on the offensive weapons we will need to survive what is coming. Cheung has not confronted Ameohne’e yet, but they have been talking with other high-ranking officers. And not just in the space forces. Removing Cheung would be risky, especially if other officers believe it is part of a cover-up. Bring them into our secrets so early is also risky. Leaving them in place without trusting them is perhaps the greatest risk of all. Which risk shall we take?”

Sitting to Ameohne’e’s left was the newest member of the circle, Lerato Schlender. This was only her second meeting with the circle: she’d joined after Ameohne’e took office. Like most invitations to the circle, it had been a simple message. Gene had identified her as one of the emerging leaders of the no-longer-cell organization that had supported Ameohne’e’s coup. “There’s a meeting next week. Be there.” And she was.

Still unfamiliar with the format, the person next to her (relieved to no longer be the ‘youngest’ member) had to give her a nudge.

With a gulp, Lerato stood up and said shortly, “I don’t know Cheung to have a feel for how they might react. But you — we — can’t keep the big secret forever. I know there’s a timetable, but if there’s one thing running a cell teaches you, it’s that plans only take you so far. So bring them in. See how they react. Worst case, they can have an accident, and we deal with the fallout as best we can. Need be, I’ll handle the accident myself.”

She sat down, forgetting to be embarrassed when she noticed several others glaring at her. Leading a cell in an underground rebellion also taught ruthlessness and practicality. She glared right back.

Her neighbor, one of those glaring, stood next. “There will certainly be no need for ‘accidents,’ but bringing Cheung in is the wisest course.”

Around the room, some speaking only to say which approach they favored. “Relieve him,” perhaps. Or “We should wait.” Others would have put a Roman Senator to shame with their speech making. The mystics and magic users might refer to their art and the lessons it gave or rely on more mundane arguments.

It took several hours — one reason these meetings were rare and held late at night. Even if it meant a long tired day for most of the circle tomorrow.

Finally, almost all had had their say. Wu stood up briefly. Zi said only, “I cannot see which way this cast will fall. If we do tell them, we must have security ready to deal with fallout beforehand. If we need an ‘accident,’ it will not be the first. But I would avoid it if possible.”

The room was silent for a moment. Waiting while Ameohne’e weighed everyone’s words. Sometimes she had come to a circle already sure in her decision. Sometimes she came knowing what she wanted but unsure of how to accomplish it. Rarely she came, like tonight, with no idea of a right answer.

But hours of listening, letting the wisdom and experience of her colleagues guide her, brought her some measure of surety.

As always, her was the final voice. She didn’t advise, she decided.

“I will tell Colonel Cheung and two of their subordinates that they trusts. Wu and Deborah will handle security for the meeting. Wu, make sure to include Claudia on the guard roster. Lerato will plan ‘accidents’ for all three but not activate any of them without explicit orders from myself or Wu. The rest of you, start putting together contingency plans for if we end up needing to go public in the next two months.” She sighed. “I know it’s hard for us to get together, especially now. But we’ll plan another meeting in four weeks to deal with any fallout. Hopefully, we won’t need it.”

 

“Colonel Cheung?”

“Yes, Ms Littlesun?”

“I realize that you have some… let’s call them concerns at the moment. I’ve never played games with you, and I’m not going to start now. But I’d rather discuss this in person.”

“As you say, Ms Littlesun, we have not played games. So, I will ask your assurance that this meeting will only be to talk.”

“Only to talk, Colonel. In fact, I thought maybe the clean rooms here. Some folks find the lack of windows reassuring.”

“I am sure. But as I do not have a fear of heights, I am not concerned about windows.”

“My office then, next Tuesday at… let’s say 10am. It’s a big office, so feel free to bring a couple of staff. Just make sure they aren’t the type to play games either and know the meaning of ‘top security’.”

“Everyone on my staff knows the meaning of ‘top security,’ Ms Littlesun, or they wouldn’t be on my staff. I will see you then.”

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