Exploring Uncertainty

Posted By Sam on January 30, 2012

 

Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card is considered one of those science-fiction greats. I have to agree. I first read Ender’s game as a child, somewhere around the age of 10. I have to admit, I didn’t get it all back then and much of it lapsed in my memory. It was a surprise though, as I read it now over 30 years later and realized what an impact it must have had on me as a child, considering my generation, upbringing, etc. There are aspects in the book discussed that mirrors my philosphy in uncannily ways to be written off as simple coincidence.

Ender’s game explores a future, when humankind is up against an enemy other than ourselves that is capable of destroying us completely. Mankind becomes united to withstand this force and an internatiomal military is formed with the sole purpose of training up the greatest military genius of all time. With a couple of caveats, the first being that it had to be a child and therefor never known the horrors of war and what must be done against an enemy that doesn’t want to conquer you, but to uterly destroy you. Second, it had to appear to be nothing but an elaborate game, which in its own way has it’s own stresses, would not put the children in complete harms way.

This is a great book and worthy of the accolades that have been reaped upon it. It is what I would consider a must-read for science-fiction buffs.

Category: Books, Fiction, Post Apocalyptic Media, Preview/Review | Comments Off
Tags: Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card

Posted By Sam on January 28, 2012

 

A flash fiction piece by me. Enjoy!

 

Dogs of War

By Samuel J. Guss

 

The Dogs of War were something to see. Those dog pack gladiators were eerily comforting when they were on our side. Indeed no other animal other than human hate the undead masses more. Unlike us, they were immune to whatever it is that turns us into those damn zombies. Pardon the language.

 

Using dogs for the war came from survivors who had before the apocalypse trained dogs for the military and police. Afterwards they trained dogs gone feral after months of abandonment, training them to be a killing force. These canines were called the Dogs of War.

 

Our strategy was simple. A “rabbit”, on a motorcycle, would roar through zombie infested streets, stirring up the no longer living residents, baiting them to follow him. It worked like a charm, leading all those dead son of bitches back to a WalMart or other large lot. Pardon the
language.

 

Hundreds would arrive on the heels of the rabbit, slavering over the free meal they’ve been chasing. Then the Dogs of War were turned loose, released from inside where they had been kept. Waves of dozens would be rush out the doors to crash headlong into the advancing army of the undead. Their growls and snarls rose, louder and more vicious than the moans of the undead. These animals were trained for weeks to do one thing: maim and hinder zombies. They were good at their job, usually within weeks of training.

 

Some dogs would die. Most survived to fight another day, even though with scrapes or bite marks. What was to be expected? Zombies tend to bite on anything living that is within reach. The Dogs of War simply bit back. After all, they were immune.

 

Corpses would litter the parking lots all the way to the doors, many squirming on stumps left over from the brutal attack. That’s when we would take over. Using whatever we had on hand, a gun, a baseball bat or crowbar. The dogs would be brought back inside and after our work was done we would join them. You know, some would even use riding lawnmowers if there was any nearby. Those left the biggest fucking mess but had such a satisfying touch. Pardon the language.

 

It happened so suddenly that we were caught off guard. The Dogs of War were no longer immune. Trapped inside a WalMart, there were fifty of us and over a hundred dogs – most of which had transformed in front of our eyes. Dogs that weren’t infected at that time leapt into the fray to save us. The Dogs of War rose in their own nightmarish way, using the tactics we had taught them; burned into their instincts.

 

Zombies are nothing. Easy to outrun, avoid or kill. Should you hear the howl of a Dog of War call to others though then take my advice: hide. If you hear or see them coming for you, then kiss your ass goodbye. Pardon the language.

Category: Fiction | Comments Off
Tags: flash fiction, Samuel J Guss

Posted By Sam on January 23, 2012

I didn’t know what to expect from Suzane Collins, Hunger Games. After all it is billed as a Teen-Fiction title and appears to draw more girls than boys. That said, working at a bookstore, where nearly the entire staff both male and female had both read and enjoyed it, I went ahead and took the plunge. I have to admit, I am glad I did.

The premise of the book is right up my alley. It’s a despotism post-apocalyptic setting, that follows the premise of fiefdom type government rules in North America. Our heroine volunteers to participate in a game to the death with other teenagers in what is known as a “tribute”. The story is well written, a little over handed in places with foreshadowing, but not to distraction and the plot is solid, while touching on basic themes of freedom, survival, personal choices and sacrifice, along with class systems – especially those in poverty versus the wealthy.

While I praise the first book, I’m not interested at least at this time, to read further into the series as the first book ends and tells a quick overview of what is coming in the second book (a tour of the world, a love triangle and rebellion) just doesn’t interest me as much as this book did.

Needless to say I highly recommend this book for anyone who is interested in post-apocalyptic, speculative fiction. It’s good.

Category: Books, Post Apocalyptic Media, Preview/Review | Comments Off
Tags: Hunger Games, Suzane Collins

Posted By Sam on January 15, 2012

It took me 7 weeks to read Fulgrim. Not for lack of effort or interest in the book but due to the holiday schedule, out of town adventures and new year work schedule, but the book stands completed. My only regret is that I couldn’t have just read the book over the course of a couple of days versus the few weeks. The book is adventurous, fast paced and incredibly action-packed, that just keeps getting better and better.

For the first time in the series, you find out what happens in detail about the Istvaan V drop landing massacre. Throughout the book you watch as a great Primarch is laid low by the forces of Chaos, the corruption of an entire legion and members of an expedition. Throughout is
interweave with established timeline and even a couple of characters previously introduced that locks you into place in the historical timeline of the grim dark future, so you constantly know where you are and what is going on around the galaxy at this time.

The Eldar make a brief appearance and the whole concept on how childish humankind is when concerned with the warp and Chaos is truly revealed and yet again almost makes you want to side with Horus and the Heresy. After all with all these things you as the reader are learning about this timeline and epic story arc, you have to ask why did the Emperor leave the crusade? Why did the Emperor NOT warn his children, even with the knowledge he KNEW about the dark aspects of the warp?

These questions and more is what attributes this epic story arc of the Horus Heresy as such a phenomenal tale. You almost want to sympathize with the Heresy, yet you see how they slip from being the good guys to the root of evil. You see pride and ego taken to such distances that nothing good can rebound from it. Still you have to wonder why the Emperor stays silent.

A blast to read, Fulgrim had it all. It’ll be a little while until I return with book 6 of the Horus Heresy series – or even any other 40K book. Vanilla reading books have been accumulating on the bedroom night stand, along with Christmas presents (more books) and I have some catching up to do. So I have at least 3-5 books to read before I return the world of 40K, but with a book such as Fulgrim being a “breaking” point, I’m already anxious to return.

Category: Books, Post Apocalyptic Media, Preview/Review | Comments Off
Tags: 40K, book review, Horus Heresy

Posted By Sam on December 2, 2011

“And the Meek Shall Inherit the Earth” has been published in the anthology, Horror Carnival and is available in both paperback and Kindle versions from Amazon.com and published by Open Casket Press.

This is my second fiction story to be published and I’m very proud of it. Feel free to grab it and leave any comments on the review page at Amazon and enjoy!

Category: Books, Fiction, Post Apocalyptic Media | Comments Off
Tags: Horror Carnival, Open Casket Press, Samuel J Guss, short story

Posted By Sam on November 20, 2011

The following story was written by my wife, Chauma Smith Guss and she was kind enough to let me post it here on Exploring Uncertainty. You can check out her blog, A Hearth Witch Kitchen, by cilcking the link or through the Blogroll on the right.

The Hunted

Chauma Smith Guss, 2010

 

Mary and Michael both answered the door.  “Nick!” Mary exclaimed, locking eyes with the Other as she spoke with the boy.  “How good to see you.  Is this your trainer?”  She smiled at the Other, teeth bared and closed.

“Sure is, he’s the best.”

Michael paid Nick for the pizza, a healthy tip included.  “It’s so good to see you together tonight.  Drive carefully, it’s getting late, and it sure is dark.”  The Other flushed red, a vein pulsing in his temple.

“This is the last delivery of the evening, and my last day of training.”  Michael and Nick exchanged a glance, and then Michael gently touched Mary’s shoulder.  She turned away from the Other, offering her back to him with clear contempt.

“Congratulations, and good luck, Nick.  I know that Tracey would be proud.”  Mary was calm, almost cheerful.

“Wait,” the Other’s voice was tight, almost strangled.  Mary turned back to them, and Nick shrank away.  There was nothing human in her expression, in the eyes that were less hazel than feral yellow.  “Do you not value this idiot boy’s life?  Do you not fear for him?”  Michael finally saw the knife, though Nick still seemed unaware, backing up until the Other easily grabbed him, twisting an arm behind his back, and pressed the knife to the boy’s throat.  Deliberately, he slid the knife across bare skin, and blood welled up beneath it.  Mary’s nostrils flared at the scent, and the Other watched her, fascinated, even as he also inhaled the hot smell.

“Are you stalking him for me, little hunter?” She blinked, slow.  “Do you think that he is your prey?”  She stepped forward, ignoring Nick’s grunt as his wrist was pressed more savagely upwards.

“I will kill him in front of you, and then I will do the same to your boss, and then, little girl, you will be mine.”  He licked his lips, lust and rage fighting for dominance as he watched her.

“What fun is that?” She reached out a finger and touched Nick’s blood, suddenly much closer to them, and delicately tasted it.  Nick swallowed, hard, and closed his eyes. “There is no sport in taking prey that is tied up like a goat set out to bait a tiger.  It is far more … satisfying… to hunt, to chase it until it tires, to confuse it until it turns back on itself, heart thrumming with fear. Do you know the feel of a hamstring, taught beneath your teeth, and then the wet snap when it’s torn?”  She pulled Nick away from the Other and stepped in just as close, the knife between them, inhaling the man’s scent through mouth and nose.  “Little hunter, I know what you’re hunting, I know that it’s me, and that little girl Tracey, and those other little girls.  I know that you hunger for the pain and the fear and the kill, and that if a little girl isn’t enough, that you will kill a little boy by the dark of the moon.  Always the dark of the moon, for little boys, because you don’t want to see their faces, you don’t like that they arouse you just as much as little girls, and you can’t bear the thought that you’re less a man because you want to sink yourself into their hot and bleeding flesh, also.”  The Other was trembling, rage and joy and an ugly desire in his expression. “You want to hunt me, even now, because this little boy’s blood, so hot and sweet, isn’t enough.”  She moved away smoothly, beyond him and into the black of the night.  Her eyes gleamed silver in the porch ight.  “Come and get me.”  She was gone, and the Other followed after her with a wordless cry.

* * *

This, yes, finally, She is the One, there can be no other.  How sad that I will not see Her lood spray across the grass or leaves.  How ad that I will never hunt Her after this, that all other kills will pale in omparison.  How lovely is the night, ith the sound of Her breathing and footfalls ahead.

She has stopped, disappointing that it’s so soon, especially after Her little speech.  A few steps ore and I find a pile of clothes, still warm from Her body, shoes damp with dew.  I hear a low moan nearby, perhaps She has hurt Herself, but then it rises into a mournful howl, wolf-like.  I listen to the silence that followed, and a bare whisper of grass brings slashing pain in my calf, and I bring my knife up as a heavy weight bears me down, hot breath, slashing teeth, eyes glowing in the faint light of the stars.  The idiot oy’s blood mingles with the blood of the beast on top of me, the knife slashes own and across as Her teeth sink deep into me, ripping my shirt and then my belly, and finally closing on my throat. I embrace Her, the knife falling away. I can feel that Her fur is tipped in blood, my blood, and She is beautiful.

* * *

Michael waited on Mary’s porch, the phone and a cup of offee on the railing beside him, Ellen’s rifle and a blanket across his lap.  Nick had left with the ambulance nd returned after being picked over by the Emergency Room.  The police were long gone, searching for Mary, hoping that the killer had not finished his work.  Wolves had been heard in the night, and Michael had suggested to the eager reporters that they contact the head of animal behavioral research, Dr. Tucker. After a time, they had left, also, and pre-dawn was glimmering in the east when he saw Mary lope up across the grass, her body and hair streaked with blood, a slash across her shoulder and her ribs.  She held something carefully in her hands, close to her body.  She sensed him on the porch and stopped, nostrils flaring as she raised her head.  He set aside the rifle and stood slowly, shaking out the blanket.  She hesitated a moment and then stepped close to let him wrap it around her, covering her, holding her against his body as they eased down to sit on the steps.

“It’s alright, sweet Mary, you’ve come home.  Ellen tells me I have to tell you stories,and then we’ll call the police again, and be normal people reporting a heinouscrime, and then we’ll go see Ellen, together.”

She brought her cupped hands up, opening them.  Michael swallowed hard when he recognizedwhat she held, and managed not to vomit on them both.  “Oh, honey – I’m sorry, but Ellen can’t use his kidney, and we have to put that away somewhere before we call the police.”

“It’s not for Ellen, it’s for me,” Nick said.  He held out a trash bag and she dropped thekidney in and turned away.  “I have the address, and I sent my information to her doctor.  Thank you.”

She looked at him, nothing of human understanding in heryellow eyes.  He ducked his head, lookingdown at the ground, and left them.

 

The End

Category: Fiction | Comments Off
Tags: serial killer, short story, urban fantasy, werewolf

Posted By Sam on November 12, 2011

If I wasn’t already a fan of the Salamanders Space Marine chapter, I would be after reading the first book in this triology. An outstanding tale of Space Marine brotherhood, with insights on how Space Marine chapters react to each other when they aren’t immediately known to each other and a ton of lore for the Salamander fan.

Rich in detail, character development and story, this is a worthy title in the Black Library line of Space Marine books and has me ever more excited about this great chapter.

Category: Books, Fiction, Post Apocalyptic Media, Preview/Review | Comments Off
Tags: Black Library, Space Marines, Warhammer 40K

Posted By Sam on November 6, 2011

The following story was written by my wife, Chauma Smith Guss and she was kind enough to let me post it here on Exploring Uncertainty. You can check out her blog, A Hearth Witch Kitchen, by cilcking the link or through the Blogroll on the right.

The Hunted

Chauma Smith Guss, 2010

 

Tonight I will be alone, but tomorrow I will feed my
beast.  The boy thinks he has me, but
he’s wrong.  He will strangle
delightfully well, like any other idiot boy who’s ever crossed me.  No blood, no faces, they don’t die for my
pleasure, but to satisfy the itch, the urge.
Delivering the stupid manling to The One would be the delight, to see
her cool disrespect evolve to fear.  O,
her fear would be quite ripe by the time the moon calls for it.

 

She arrives at work just as she should, on time and with
little fanfare.  She glances my way and
smiles, a brief baring of teeth.  I
resist the urge to smile back, to acknowledge Her greeting, but my Heart beats
a little faster, my breath catching in my chest.  Yes, She would be a very good girl.

 

* * *

 

The day before the new moon was a long, sleepy, summer
day.  At ten in the morning, just before
her break, Michael Cates appears with a man in a plain dark suit and a student
intern.  “Jason will handle the
Circulation desk for a few minutes, Mary, we need you to answer a few
questions.”

 

Mary nodded obediently.
“Jason, you may scan in the books and scan out the books, please do not
sort them.”  The student nodded and stood
aside as she stepped out from behind the massive counter.

 

Mary followed her department head and the stranger to the
conference room.  She could smell the
leather holster and gun the stranger carried, but he was merely interested, not
suspicious.  The men waited until she
seated herself, back to the door and to the left of the head of the table,
things they would see as vulnerable and non-dominant.  The stranger sat across from her, and Michael
took the chair at the head of the table.

 

“Mary, this is Detective Steve Smith, he’s been looking into
Tracey’s murder.”  She shook the
detective’s hand gently, meeting his eyes briefly and then looking away, very
careful not to spook him.

 

“How can I help?”
They had found the search she’d initiated last night, a cross reference
of female disappearances and deaths and male disappearances and deaths on
calendar dates corresponding to the full and new moon.

 

“We need to know more about an information search you launched
yesterday.  Who initiated that particular
periodical request?”

 

“It was a personal line of inquiry, not a third party
request,” Mary looked from one to the other.
“I didn’t find anything I felt was relevant, but it’s also outside my
field of study.”

 

The detective made a note. “What do you do for the library?”

 

“I’m a research librarian.
I process faculty requests for periodicals and bibliographies.  Currently, I am also temporarily serving as
the Circulation clerk, while the regular clerk is on maternity leave.”  Another note.

 

“Do you often pursue your own lines of inquiry?”

 

“Only occasionally, when I find something particularly
interesting.  Last month I did extensive
research on Ethiopian Christianity, specifically the group that claims to have
possession of the original Ark of the Covenant, and last year a request came in
regarding seasonal festivals and lunar festivals in Peru, so I spent some time pursuing
that.”  She looked down at her hands,
making a point of rearranging them nervously, and then glancing at Michael
before looking down again.  His
expression was interested, but otherwise closed.  “There’s a show about criminal profilers on
TV, I was curious to see what a profiler might find if they did a media search
on the recent local murders.”  The
detective stopped writing and raised an eyebrow.

 

“And what is it that you found?”

 

“The parameters didn’t reveal anything I saw as terribly
important or statistically significant.  I
looked back over the past nine months of the academic year.  There have been four girls go missing in the
past four months, two of them were found murdered and disposed of in shallow
graves in the woods on or near the campus.
The other two have not been found yet.
They tend to go missing on the first day of the full moon, but they’re
never found until after the last day.
There are not any details on how they died, so I can only assume it may
have been gruesome.  The second line of
inquiry was on male students who have gone missing, there were three, only two
deaths, both were prior to the first female disappearance, both bodies were
found on the day after the new moon, and both deaths appear to have been by
strangulation.  I suppose they were
muggings.”  She shrugged.  It was just data to Mary Hunter the Research
Librarian.  Behind that mask, though…

 

“What do you mean by the first day of the full moon?”  Michael shifted a little, looking bored and
smelling uneasy.  The detective was
interested now, pretending to be bored.

 

“The moon appears to be full for three nights.  Most people just can’t see the slight missing
sliver on the first and third days.
Drives astrologers nutty, and that’s why sometimes almanacs show the
full moon on different days.”

 

The detective looked off into space for a moment, tapping
his pen against the paper.  “Thank you,
Miss Hunter, for your time.”

 

“Not a problem at all, Detective Smith, I’m just sorry I
wasn’t able to give you better results.”
She stood.  “Are all of the
research queries monitored by law enforcement?”

 

He shook his head.  “Not
quite like that, no.  This case is
sensitive, though.  Please do not discuss
the results of your research with anyone.”

 

She relieved Jason and sent him on his way.  A few minutes later, Michael came back to the
Circulation desk.  “Don’t do anything
stupid.”  He was angry and afraid.

 

She shrugged.  “It
will be all right.  They will find him
more quickly now.”

 

“Launching a query that you know would flag to law
enforcement databases is not a good way to stay low-profile.”

 

“People who are always low profile in everything they do,
who are never noticed, are the ones who are noticed the most when a search
happens for people with something to hide.”

 

He laughed a little, taking a deep breath.  “You make my head hurt.”  He rubbed his face with his hands.

 

She produced a single dose packet of Tylenol from a supply drawer
in the Circulation Desk.  “If your
headache does not feel better shortly, please go to the clinic in building
four.”  She flashed an open mouthed smile
at him and pulled out the bin of returned books.

 

* * *

 

Today is the day.  The
idiot boy’s shift starts at four, and we finish at midnight.  Midnight is such a nice time of night, not
the witching hour, but somehow just as satisfying.

 

Six runs, then seven, and eight, all under 25 minutes, some
decent tips, the students are celebrating summer, every one of them.  The night is dark, so dark.  Eleven fifteen, and we are sent out on a
final run, his final run.  I let the
idiot boy drive, and he takes us through the familiar streets, houses darkening.  I’m so caught up in my enjoyment of the night
that I don’t recognize the drive we’re pulling into until I see Her car.

 

Really?  So
delightfully symmetrical, that Her home would be the last home the idiot boy
visits.  But there is an SUV in front of
her house, parked on the street, the tan vehicle her supervisor drove.  Interesting, very interesting – perhaps there
will be more play than I thought in this.

 

“Do you want this one, or do I take it up?”  The idiot boy was eager for the tip, he’d gotten
greedy tonight.

 

“We’ll both go, this time, last delivery and all.”

* * *

Category: Fiction | Comments Off
Tags: serial killer, short story, urban fantasy, werewolf

Posted By Sam on November 3, 2011

 

Excellent book! The action, emotional quality and character development in this book supercedes or is compatable to the series before it. I was previously a fan of James Swallow with his Blood Angels Omnibus, but this work elevated him even further in my enthusiasm for his stories.

The book concentrates itself around the point of view of one central character – Nathaniel Garro, a member of the Death Guard and his escape from the Istvaan masacre and bringing the message of Horus’s Heresy to Terra. An outstanding tale and my new favorite in the series.

Category: Books, Fiction, Post Apocalyptic Media, Preview/Review | Comments Off
Tags: Horus Heresy, James Swallow, Warhammer 40K

Posted By Sam on October 29, 2011

Happy Halloween everyone!

November and December may be sparse in posts due to holidays and finishing up this semester in school. Some great news to share though:

• In school, I have been invited to join the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society.
• My short story “And the Meek Shall Inherit the Earth”, was accepted into the anthology Horror Carnival coming out late 2012 by Open Casket press.

In the meantime, I have a host of topics I want to write about, that I just need to take the time to do so. In the next few months expect such topics as:

• The Voynich manuscript
• After effects of the European earthquake of 1755
• Fate Morgana
• The Philipine-American War
• Essays and Reviews

 

Category: What's Happening? | Comments Off
Tags: announcements, halloween, Horror Carnival, Phi Theta Kappa