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    Mad Scientist Journal: Spring 2019
    Mad Scientist Journal: Spring 2019
    Mad Scientist Journal: Spring 2019
    Ebook227 pages3 hours

    Mad Scientist Journal: Spring 2019

    By DefCon One Publishing

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    Inexplicable archaeological discoveries, fascinating scientific logs of experiments gone awry, and alternative solutions to a variety of problems. These are but some of the strange tales to be found in this book. Mad Scientist Journal - Spring 2019 collects thirteen tales from the fictional worlds of mad science. For the discerning mad scientist reader, there are also pieces of fiction from Jameson Currier, Soramimi Hanarejima, and River Knight. Readers will also find other resources for the budding mad scientist, including an advice column, gossip column, and other brief messages from mad scientists. Authors featured in this volume also include John A. McColley, Hamilton Kohl, Steve Toase, Willow Croft, Robert Dawson, Liz Hufford, Ashlyn Churchill, Tais Teng, Sam Crane, Jonathan Ficke, Boris Glikman, Curtis C. Chen, Paul Crenshaw, Kiyomi Appleton Gaines, Anna Kriegel, Sabrina Eads, Andy Brown, Alex Pickens, Lucinda Gunnin, and Torrey Podmajersky. Art provided by Justine McGreevy, America Jones, Leigh Legler, Scarlett O'Hairdye, Luke Spooner, and Errow Collins.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDefCon One Publishing
    Release dateMar 26, 2019
    ISBN9780463921586
    Mad Scientist Journal: Spring 2019

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      Book preview

      Mad Scientist Journal - DefCon One Publishing

      Mad Scientist Journal

      Spring 2019

      Edited by Dawn Vogel and Jeremy Zimmerman

      Cover Art by Justine McGreevy

      Copyright 2019 Jeremy Zimmerman, except where noted

      Smashwords Edition

      www.madscientistjournal.org

      www.patreon.com/madscientistjournal

      Letter from the Editor is Copyright 2019 John A. McColley

      A Fragmented Examination of Slingshot Time Travel is Copyright 2019 Hamilton Kohl

      Terminus Post Quem is Copyright 2019 Steve Toase

      Quietly Goes the Mix Tape is Copyright 2019 Willow Croft

      Ladies' Night is Copyright 2017 Robert Dawson

      Trash Landing is Copyright 2019 Liz Hufford

      Excerpts from 'Mission Log' is Copyright 2018 Ashlyn Churchill

      Ice Words, Fire Fonts, and Other Scripts Unwritten by Human Hands, An Introduction is Copyright 2019 Tais Teng

      Retirement Options is Copyright 2019 Sam Crane

      Excerpts From the Audio Notes Fimbulvetr Industries, DA, LLC, GbR, MChJ Seeks Mad Evolutionary Biologist, and Fimbulvetr Industries, DA, LLC, GbR, MChJ Seeks Animal Trainers are Copyright 2019 Jonathan Ficke

      The Light of Their Lives is Copyright 2019 Boris Glikman

      Prisoner is Copyright 2008 Curtis C. Chen

      On a Winter's Night is Copyright 2019 Paul Crenshaw

      The Fae Catcher's Tale is Copyright 2019 Kiyomi Appleton Gaines

      Distillates is Copyright 2019 Soramimi Hanarejima

      Felis Carpathia is Copyright 2019 River Knight

      What Would Q Do? is Copyright 2019 Jameson Currier

      Lady C. Zytal Gossip is Copyright 2019 Lucinda Gunnin

      Dr. Synthia is Copyright 2019 Torrey Podmajersky

      New club in Atlantis, Selling vintage submarine, Martian attackers, Monster-under-the-bed, Hiring chef, are Copyright 2019 Anna Kriegel

      Mad Scientist Swap Meet is Copyright 2019 Sabrina Eads

      The Carrivook Research Institute, Design a Religion, Man with a Van ... A Time Traveling Van, and PetChat are Copyright 2019 Andy Brown

      Stankenstein is Copyright 2019 Alex Pickens

      Art accompanying A Fragmented Examination of Slingshot Time Travel is Copyright 2019 America Jones

      Art accompanying Terminus Post Quem, Trash Landing, Ice Words, Fire Fonts, and Other Scripts Unwritten by Human Hands, An Introduction, Excerpts From the Audio Notes, Prisoner, and The Fae Catcher's Tale are Copyright 2019 Leigh Legler

      Art accompanying Quietly Goes the Mix Tape is Copyright 2019 Scarlett O'Hairdye

      Art accompanying Ladies' Night, Retirement Options, The Light of Their Lives, and On a Winter's Night are Copyright 2019 Luke Spooner

      Art accompanying Excerpts from 'Mission Log' is Copyright 2019 Errow Collins

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

      ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

      Many thanks to Patreon backers Simone Cooper, Andrew Cherry, Dagmar Baumann, Adam Easterday, GMark Cole, Wendy Wade, John Nienart, Michele Ray, and Torrey Podmajersky!

      Visit us at patreon.com/madscientistjournal to lend your support.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Letter from the Guest Editor

      ESSAYS

      "A Fragmented Examination of Slingshot Time Travel" provided by Hamilton Kohl

      "Terminus Post Quem" provided by Steve Toase

      "Quietly Goes the Mix Tape" provided by Willow Croft

      "Ladies' Night" provided by Robert Dawson

      "Trash Landing" provided by Liz Hufford

      "Excerpts from 'Mission Log'" provided by Ashlyn Churchill

      "Ice Words, Fire Fonts, and Other Scripts Unwritten by Human Hands, An Introduction" provided by Tais Teng

      "Retirement Options" provided by Sam Crane

      "Excerpts From the Audio Notes" provided by Jonathan Ficke

      "The Light of Their Lives" provided by Boris Glikman

      "Prisoner" provided by Curtis Chen

      "On a Winter's Night" provided by Paul Crenshaw

      "The Fae Catcher's Tale" provided by Kiyomi Appleton Gaines

      FICTION

      "Distillates" by Soramimi Hanarejima

      "Felis Carpathia" by River Knight

      "What Would Q Do?" by Jameson Currier

      RESOURCES

      "Scenes Around the Lab" provided by Lucinda Gunnin

      "Ask Dr. Synthia" provided by Torrey Podmajersky

      Classifieds

      ABOUT

      Bios for Classifieds Authors

      About the Editors

      About the Artists

      LETTER FROM THE GUEST EDITOR

      by Jelique D'Avern, as provided by John A. McColley

      Apparently, this publication needs a better screening process for its readership. It is not all scientists and assistants fed up with the status quo or eager to share their findings and observations with others of our kind. There is a mole. Information has been leaked to the other side. How do I know? Ask my poor Silverspine, a rare cultivar, burned out by gallons of sugared water, knocked so far down I had to use heavy machinery to find the last living rootlets.

      Years of experimentation, seasons of growing, wiped out in a few callous minutes. The salt in each of my four moats ... another decade of collection of six different cultivars of Naiad's Basket, a tragedy to botany, and to me personally. Two of those cultivars are now lost forever, their biodiversity and utility killed by soulless adventurers, heroes they called themselves, with salt on their hands.

      Was I surprised by the five young people appearing at my door, sap on their blades and chlorophyll ground into their boots? Oh yes! Had I thought myself safe in my own home? Indeed, as anyone should. But plants are not my only defense, nor are all my beauties outside the walls of my castle. The inhabitants of my estates are only the welcoming committee, the doormat meant to dissuade casual heroes from disturbing me at my studies.

      They arrived, as uninvited relatives, at an inconvenient hour. The alarum went up from the screeching vines and ringing orchids, a network of living vigilance no human guard can replicate. I deposited the last grain of pollen upon the pistil and pushed up the magnifying lenses from before my eyes. Grasping one of the amulets at my breast, I closed my own eyes and opened that of the Cyclopea dendronica beside the main gate. Nothing stood on the stone path up to the inner moat, but some feet to the side, a white cloud led through the waters and to a spot in the living stone beneath the castle wall proper.

      How had they gotten so far? So close to my most prized subjects? Unacceptable! I contacted the Naiad's Baskets in the nearest mote, or tried to, getting only a pained whine in response. Salt. Pounds of salt, poured in a path across the water, knocking back my beautiful children. Seconds later, the offenders crashed through the upper dungeon where I was working, toppling precisely fitted stones and ushering in a tumble of wet soil.

      There she is! One of them cried. She had the gall to point a dagger at me, frost on its blade explaining how they got past the Trickster's Webs. It also sparked the thought I bring to you now. These adventurers were not savvy botanists. They had not studied the leaves and roots of the myriad species of my collection for their beauty or utility and simply put that knowledge to use to bypass them. These avengers of the local populace, here to stop the loss of livestock and small children who would wander into my estate, feeding my babies, had gotten ahold of a certain edition of a certain Mad Scientist Journal!

      I submitted my advice column in good faith, that it would be used by those looking to create their own defensive barrier between the mundane world of blacksmiths and tailors and their own sublime bastion of cognitive liberation! That trust had been betrayed. My knowledge had been used not for the good of the few, but of the many!

      It turns my stomach that such hapless heroes would have ready access to the wisdom I offered to others of my own procession and those seeking to enter the mad sciences. It is the deepest betrayal I have ever suffered. There is no other explanation for the precision and ease with which these know-nothings infiltrated and penetrated my defenses. And the means they used, my own suggestions for controlling the plants I listed. Many have called me paranoid in my time, but this is incontrovertible.

      I do not blame the editors and publishers of the Journal, but those subscribing to the Journal under false pretenses, possibly for this exact purpose, to use the information gleaned about our ongoing projects against the contributors. They turn our willingness to share our findings, to create a community around our interests, to teach, into an Achilles heel. I therefore put you on notice, you betrayers. If--no, when--I find out who shared my insights with these squirming bugs of heroes in my care, you will become examples, and walking trellises for some of my newest cultivars of Frenzian Bone Walkers, clusters of vines that enweave themselves into the skeleton, eventually devouring and replacing the muscles and becoming mobile guardians, and no, I will not tell you how to deactivate them.

      Jelique D'Avern is an avid traveler. Her journeys have led her to discover over twenty plant species and pen six volumes of herbological lore. While at home, she tends her magnificent gardens, gathering magical components from many of the plants for herbalchemy experiments. She also collaborates with her husband, Count Havol D'Avern, in his development of new mechamagical devices in their lovely vintage castle on a rise overlooking the Wens River and the hamlet of Byfor.

      John A. McColley writes across the spectrum of SFFH, facing off with creatures mystical and mundane on an average Tuesday night. He has completed two novels, the starts of two separate series, one fantasy, one scifi, over the last two years, and has the next book of each on the way. He's also working out a webcomic and podcast. He thanks his wife, three kids, three cats, countless other writers, and world leaders for his inspiration, especially in the area of mad science. Catch him @JohnAMcColley, on Twitter, FB, and Patreon (where he's serializing his novels) and say, Hi!

      ESSAYS

      A FRAGMENTED EXAMINATION OF SLINGSHOT TIME TRAVEL

      An essay by the son of Dr. Morgan Locke, as provided by Hamilton Kohl

      Art by America Jones

      [I have had the good fortune to recover a small collection of journal entries archived by an unknown historian of the alternate, or mad sciences. As you know, due the secrecy involved, it is very challenging to find firsthand accounts from mad science practitioners. This small piece of correspondence composed by the historian was all I could salvage by way of introduction to these findings.]

      ... and during my travels I became engrossed in the history of the mad sciences. My particular area of interest was the migration of Eastern European scientists to the colonies, which coincided with continued westward expansion into the 1900s. To that end, I have found fragments from journal entries that lend possible credence to your theory that not only did Dr. Morgan Locke escape his persecution in Prussia, but he in fact survived and continued his work upon arriving across the Atlantic. It would further seem, by the included documents, that some of his studies were carried on for some time by at least one of his sons. I hope you will find this of use for your paper, The Mad Sciences of Upper and Lower Canada: A look into …

      ~

      [The following entries are from the journal of Dr. Morgan Locke, as entered by one of his sons.]

      Sunday, March 27, 1853

      My father's accumulated knowledge of the dark arts is finally mine! Or they would be, but now on the eve of his death, I hold his journal in my hands only to find the pages are completely blank. It is all gone: the blueprints for his devices, the recipes for his chemical compositions, strategies, projects, theories, all of it.

      I returned here to our family's estates outside of Ottawa this very evening, having received an urgent telegram from my father's man, Karstan. Ever to the point, it read: your father has expired.

      Upon arriving, Karstan showed me to the body. Father was slumped over his desk with a pistol in hand and a rather small hole in the back of his head. A second hole, which was not actually a hole at all, but more of a fist punch from the inside out, inhabited the spot where one would normally find his scornful countenance. I will spare you the detailed description of the congealed blood splatters, bits of bone and brains that adorned the desk, the wall, and the carpet.

      I am proud to note that shortly thereafter I had the presence of mind to make sure I properly bottled and preserved (what was left of) his cerebrum. At least this way we'd still be able to argue.

      But of course, my main concern was for the journal. It was my birthright. Unfortunately, a small smattering of blood is all that is left to mar the pages. I wish he would have taken better precautions when he killed himself at his desk last night. It was not like him to make such a mess of things, though I find it remarkable that he was able to shoot himself in the back of the head like that.

      I'll leave a note for Karstan to dispose of the body, I'm sure that will be sufficient.

      ~

      Monday, March 28, 1853

      While I found the pages of the journal empty, Father's my workshop and laboratory are both very much intact, though many of his projects are incomplete or have been misplaced.

      Here is a list of what I have been able to salvage so far:

      1. The Slingshot Time Machine. This one is very promising. Father had raved about this for years. but Mother wouldn't have it--something about not getting out of their marriage that easily. He must have finally completed it after she passed on. I plan to test it immediately. (See Appendix 1, Figure 1.)

      2. Serum of the Reanimated. At one point, my father had an entire army of the undead, but he seems to have misplaced them ...

      [Note: The inventory looked to be much more extensive, but what I hope was water had smeared the pages and left all but the first two items illegible.]

      ~

      Tuesday, March 29, 1853

      A rather large amber cat was reading this very journal last night, and while I haven't outlined any of my own projects yet, the cat must have his suspicions. He certainly must know about the time machine.

      I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing, but he just stared at me and started licking himself. I told him if he knows what's good for him that he will stay clear of my affairs. He did not seem concerned.

      I also suspect that he has been fouling the garden.

      For future consideration: I may need to kill the cat. But not before I find out what he knows about the missing undead.

      ~

      Wednesday, March 30th, 1853

      I received an unexpected visit this morning from a local constable. My father's body turned up. Apparently, my instructions to Karstan had not been explicit enough.

      Having dealt with the constabulary regarding dead bodies numerous times before, I placed the tidy sum of ninety-nine dollars, five cents on the stand in the front foyer. It would have been an even hundred, but the cat insisted I buy him a fresh fish at the market earlier in the day.

      The officer, to his credit, took the cash with his assurances that my father's body would once again disappear.

      For present consideration: You wouldn't have to feed the cat if it were dead.

      ~

      Thursday, March 31, 1853

      Saturday, March 26, 1853

      I was able to employ the time machine, but to disastrous effect. (Or to

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