Every School In America

Watch the video. Then you’ll know what’s at stake.

A renowned Internet celebrity recently challenged us to “become the culture” if we want to change things. Not as easy as it sounds, but when it’s important, you rise to the challenge. Our goal is to promote literacy and culture, and we have some powerful tools at our disposal.

The infrastructure I’ve built on this and other sites in my network give me the opportunity to rapidly publish at scale in universally accessible formats so anyone can follow my serialized fiction, book series, audiobook series and even collect paperbacks and hardcovers with no technological barriers, obstructive algorithms, screens clogged with ads, tracking, passwords, DRM, missing books and all the other nonsense you might encounter elsewhere.

You’re not going to find any of that here. As many of you know, I have been publishing on the Internet for more than 30 years. My sites pre-date virtually every currently recognizable platform. I launched my first site ten years before social media became popular. We don’t follow trends here. We have seen empires rise and fall through the windows of our little library. We are relentlessly independent and with your help we will stay that way. You certainly aren’t going to find what we do here anywhere else.

That’s why I’m putting my infrastructure to work in a program called The Action Faction.

What I’m offering you is regular access to new serialized chapters from my ongoing works. We had tremendous success with The Infamous 24, and we’ve seen steady growth ever since. Being able to grab a quick chapter of an exciting or thought-provoking story on a regular basis, text or audio, is very popular with my readers, and I expect it will only get more enjoyable as my stories progress.

There are roughly 40 titles on my store now that have sample chapters and/or sample audio on their home pages or on my web reader site. That represents approximately a quarter-million words of both fiction and non-fiction in many different genres: fantasy, romance, gamelit, science fiction and even comics. In addition to those sample works, I will regularly publish new chapters from ongoing works both here and on Bitbook, my electronic bookshelf service. I am also regularly releasing new public domain ebooks on the Library-Tron.

In exchange, we ask for your support in the form of an Action Faction sponsorship. These are one-time contributions that start at one dollar. They are not subscriptions. You can contribute as much as you like as often as you like. Think of it as a combination crowdfunding campaign and tip jar. But that’s not the limit of our vision.

For every $50 we receive in Action Faction sponsorships, we will put a brand new paperback or hardcover in an American school: elementary, middle school or high school. These books will be given to classrooms and libraries across the nation until we’ve placed at least one book on every campus in America. If we raise $100, that’s two books. $1000 is twenty books and so on. For a few thousand dollars, we can cover multiple school districts at a time.

It’s a value for value model. It gives all of us a way to make a positive impact on reading skills and literacy. There are students in this country who have never opened a brand new book in their life. We’re going to change that. One school at a time.

I’d like to invite you to bookmark my sites in your browser, and follow my RSS feed so you never miss a new chapter. I’d also like you to consider supporting our efforts to promote literacy, education and a more edifying culture for all of us.

Learn More about the Action Faction

— Shane

The Phantom of Hollow Forks

The Infamous 24

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Author’s Note: This is the opening chapter of the ninth book in my fantasy series. This is a YA noblebright ensemble adventure starring both the LadyStar Expedition and the Ironjammers Crew as they meet the challenge of the Hollow Forks Mine and whatever lurks in its shadowy tunnels and caverns. This is one of the books I plan to send to schools as part of the Action Faction project.

I always study maps extra hard because adventurers who say “let’s go!” read a map first so they know! I found out there’s a special region in Gacenar called Threelands. It’s where Isia, Chaer and Gacenar meet. Kind of like if you had a pizza with three pieces and you put a little flag right at the center like they do at Doubler’s. That’s what Threelands is like. If you stand right on top of the middle part and go east, you’re in Chaer, which is a long flat kingdom that’s mostly desert and rocks and stuff. Then if you go west, you’re back in Gacenar. If you go kind of south and then east, you’re in Isia, which is where I learned how to be a priestess!

Well, you’ll never guess what we discovered after that! Not very far from Threelands there’s a place the villagers and farmers call the “Red Castle.” Everyone says it’s made out of coral but me and Talitha think that’s just a fable or something because how can you have coral in a desert? So anyway, someone lives in the Red Castle and they have a team of mercenaries that are trying to find treasures like the ones we’re looking for! They’re not very nice, so I said we should try and steer clear. Ranko said we should go get ’em, but I said we shouldn’t start fights. Then Chance said he was going to follow them to find out if they know anything! I said to be extra careful but I don’t think he was listening, because Chance had only been away for a few days, and when we went back to the Inn there was a letter at the desk, and it had an Ironjammers seal on it! You’ll never guess what was inside! It was another map!

Me and Ranko decided Talitha should look at it because she knows about books and stuff. It wasn’t a map with roads and villages and it wasn’t a big map like the whole continent or anything. It looked like a bunch of tunnels and caves or something. All the different parts were labeled and there was a big red ‘X’ right in the middle. Ranko said that might be where a monster lives but I said what if it’s a treasure map? That’s when Talitha noticed some writing at the bottom of the page. It said ‘there are two of these maps’ and it was written in Thesian. That’s when I got to be smart! Out of aaaaaaall the adventurers on our team there’s only three of us who can write Thesian. Me, Chance and Isor, and Isor can only write arcane syllables in it. So I said it had to be from Chance!

Now all we gotta do is find out where he went and why there’s a second map. So I got Shannon to help, because she’s good at finding people and stuff. We gotta remember to remember our questy rules too. LadyStar Expedition! Shee-ha!

Jessica Halloran and Talitha Casey didn’t look completely out of place standing by the huge cypress tree on the south road to Hollow Forks, but it wasn’t long before someone questioned the hour of their decision to leave the well-marked route and stop at the edge of the forest.

“You two look like you’re waiting to rob a lost merchant,” Ranko Whelan quipped. The red-haired girl didn’t look too winded from the journey south to where the others were waiting.

“Hi Ranko! You’ll never guess what we got!” Jessica exclaimed. Talitha was busy examining the map the two girls had received only that morning. Ranko peered over her shoulder. All three girls were wearing their traveling clothes and their most durable boots. It was a foregone conclusion they would be exploring on foot for a while. Normally they would wear house clothes consisting of sholas and comfortable sandals, but out here in the dark forest, leather tunics, laced leggings and gloves handy in cinch or pouch were by now a habit and considered minimal protection from whatever they might have to cross.

“Night light?”

Talitha nodded. Ranko had noticed the tiny bloom of glowing Bartleby root the bespectacled girl had affixed to the top edge of the crusty paper. It provided enough brightness to illuminate the entire map comfortably. At Shannon’s insistence, the two girls had decided the light from Jessica’s blessings would only complicate things outside the village limits at this time of day. The sun had set almost half an hour before Ranko’s arrival, and the only remaining evidence of daylight was visible as a deep orange along the western horizon. Ranko also noticed the sturdy cross between a pouch and a basket Talitha wore across one shoulder. Inside was a colorful collection of berries, seeds, acorns, rinds and flowers. Ranko called it the “a plant for anything” bag because Talitha could quite often reach inside and produce almost any growing leaf or fruit for almost any purpose.

“Well, I’ve had all the excitement I can stand for one day. How about we retreat to the nice village where all the guards are?” Ranko said.

“We gotta find Shannon first,” Jessica replied. “All we know is Chance went somewhere and then sent us this map. We don’t know where the other boys are yet. What if they’re lost?!”

“One step at a time. What about the boss and little bit?”

“Alanna took Cici back to the outpost,” Talitha said. “They’ll be safe there.”

“Yeah, we can’t all be in the same place unless it’s a super-emergency. ‘Cause Reina said so.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight. It’s dark.” Ranko said as she began counting her fingers.

“Right,” Jessica replied.

“And we’re not sure where Captain Pickpocket went.”

“Check.”

“And now we’re in a forest with a glowing map.”

“Oh my goodness,” Talitha said quietly.

“Roger,” Jessica added.

“Looking for the Warrior of the Night. Okay, goofy? What’s wrong with this picture?”

Jessica looked sideways at Ranko. “You’re not afraid of the dark are you?” She did her best version of claws with her hands. “Maybe a monster will jump out and go ‘rawrg!'”

“That would be the longest day of its life, especially with forest girl over here. What is the deal with that map?”

Talitha was no longer reading the document. She was analyzing it. “This paper is new. Very new. Perhaps a few days old. Everything here was drawn freehand. There’s no tracing, which is unusual since Chance did say there’s a second copy. But if this is the original, why would he need two maps?”

“You’ll let us know when you have it all calculated, right professor? Meanwhile I’m headed for town. There’s a bowl of stew and some of those salt crackers with my name on them, and if there aren’t, I’m not going to leave a good review.”

Just then, Jessica noticed an out-of-place shadow among the trees not far away. At first, she was more than a little startled, but then she realized whatever it was, it had an enormous bow on its back.

“Shannon,” Jessica whispered.

“Why are you three so loud!?” Shannon hissed as she emerged from the darkness, making impatient gestures. Unlike the other three girls, the Night Warrior was dressed in her full battle regalia, complete with the leather hook on her draw hand and the teeth and claws decorating her long black hair. “You want something to eat? Why not place your order from here! I’m sure the cook will hear every word!”

“Bah!” Ranko grumbled. “Anyone looking for trouble at this time of night won’t be much of a challenge.”

“The Coral Tower Hunters are involved in this,” Shannon said. “I’ve been tracking them for two days. If what you got there is genuine, that’s going to be all the challenge we need.”


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Proximan War Games Preview

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The exercise was as straightforward as a war game scenario could get. Three Proximan destroyer-class warships against three Core frigates. The human crews and commanders were deliberately placed at a disadvantage for one obvious and one not-so-obvious reason. The lords of the Hecatian clan had opposed any outside contact and any subsequent alliances almost since contact with human worlds had first been established. Their influence with the crown was substantial, given the manufacturing infrastructure their regions of Proximan worlds controlled. One of the ships participating in this early exercise had been, in fact, designed and constructed in a Hecatian factory. Its captain viewed the entire ordeal as pointless, since mankind had already been determined to be a small, weak and militarily unproven species. It was true that Jason Hunter claimed to be a decorated officer, but medals awarded to small animals who defeated other small animals were not all that impressive to a warship commander and vanguard officer of the crown’s finest dacort.

The technology installed on all six ships allowed a central tracking and datalink operations system to catalog SRS, LRS, point defense, simulated missile weapons, maneuvering, battle screens, engine operations and so forth. All the telemetry recorded during the fight was sorted and analyzed to provide both the participating officers and the higher-ranking observers and analysts to not only examine the data, but to reconstruct the battle using tactical simulators afterwards. The engagement itself would be conducted with real ships setting real courses in the space near one of Proxima Three’s moons. The opening positions of the ships were decided by the flag of each side, with a minimum range of zero point five megaclicks between the two closest combatants.

One fortunate surprise both Proximans and humans discovered when they began to discuss working together to meet threats posed by alien aggressors was the sophisticated analysis doctrine they shared. Both races were keenly interested in examining their own performance to find inefficiencies and mistakes so they could be corrected and re-integrated into their training programs. This was a profound enough similiarity that at least one high-ranking Core fleet officer and an even higher-ranking official in the human government’s defense department agreed it might be advantageous if Skywatch shared its sight-sound simulation technology with the Proximan officer corps. It was an intriguing idea from several standpoints, especially given the fact most Proximan senses were in some ways far sharper than those of humans.

Now they were going to have a chance to evaluate one of the Core Worlds’ finest officers leading an inferior force against a Proximan squadron led by one of the kingdom’s finest strategists. The predictions were the same across the entire feline leadership. In fact the whole affair was really designed to establish the already agreed-upon and obvious fact. There was nothing to be gained by inviting humans to fight alongside the vastly superior Proximan fleet and the unmatched might of the kingdom’s bladekeepers.

Vanguard Captain Teronae-Hecatia-Creesaww watched his tactical display with a combination of resigned boredom and growing contempt. The human squadron was in close formation on a slow oblique approach course roughly 0.35 megaclicks off Proxima Three’s second-largest moon. There were no other contacts in space. A moderately effective ECM field was in place, but it would be easily overcome if the captain ordered his formation to go active. All the weapons on both ships were real-world inactive, but in the simulation they were fully powered and waiting for a target.

Commander Jason Hunter reclined on the bridge of the Ontario-class frigate DSS Comstock. His escort vessels were almost exact duplicates of his own, which was to say they were underpowered, undergunned and outrageously heavy variants of a vessel that might have been a medicore idea ten years before humans and Proximans scheduled these war games. His ships were bog-standard combat hulls only one step up from a passenger shuttle. They had one credible advantage in combat, and that was their ability to coordinate energy fire. If all three ships opened up on a target at optimum range and everything lined up just right, they might score one mission kill on an equally boring opponent one out of every three engagements. What was far more likely was the formation would scatter to thwart long-range missile attacks, lose its point defense screen and close fire support and get run down one by one and destroyed.

“So what you’re telling me is we have one combat-grade weapons bank aboard that can engage enemy ships at a range both sides know in advance?” Hunter asked over the intraship.

“That is correct, commander,” came the weary reply. The Proximan engineer assigned to Hunter’s squadron was using “correct” phrasing so as not to confuse the automatic translators.

“And my brave opponent has both energy weapons and missiles,” Hunter added.

“They are commanding Bacawl-class escort destroyers, sir,” the engineer replied. “Their missile racks each only have four birds, but they can engage us at much longer ranges.”

“So we have a choice, then,” Hunter muttered. “Charge and get overwhelmed by missiles and guns. Or sit here and shoot down missiles hoping one of them doesn’t get through and make us weaker than we already are.”

This time the engineer didn’t answer. The captain looked at the tactical display and made a snap decision. He fastened his 12-point. “Helm, plot an intercept course for hostile contact kilowatt X-ray one! All ahead emergency flank speed! Continuous acceleration.”

“Sir?”

“You heard me. Direct intercept course. Maximum acceleration until further orders.”

All three Proximan captains saw Hunter’s ship suddenly break formation and advance towards their position. All three were equally confused. They knew the specs on the Ontario frigate. If all three of the human ships decided to suddenly close range that would be one of the more obvious tactical options. Get to energy range before the destroyers could break the approach envelope for their missiles. But one frigate suddenly rocketing out of formation, breaking data range with its escorts? None of them could imagine what the human had in mind. The reality of the situation didn’t dawn on anyone until the Proximan flagship’s threat board lit up.

Captain Creesaww’s tactical officer hissed. “Enemy vessel on collision course! Estimating forty seconds to impact!”

Computer controlled weapons impacts were one thing. But there was nothing in the simulation rules that made provision for a combatant warship deliberately crashing into its opponent. Weapons could be turned off. Ten thousand tons of ducimite, titanium and fusion mass traveling at thousands of miles a second couldn’t. As Hunter had often said, “the final victor in every deep space engagement is physics.”


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The Master Chief

In honor of Fleet Command Master Chief Petty Officer Duncan Buckmaster, the beating heart of the battleship.

There are four kinds of people in the unit.

High ranking commissioned officers give orders and manage the big picture.

Junior commissioned officers handle the day to day. They know when to pick up the colorful metaphor phone.

Warrant officers don’t exist.

Junior enlisted follow orders. They move the boxes, sweep the floors and park vehicles. Their SOP is as follows: If it moves, salute it. If it doesn’t move, pick it up. If you can’t pick it up, paint it.

I am none of those. My unofficial title is “HMFIC” I’m the only person in the unit who can move faster than the speed of stupid.

I’m senior enlisted. Everyone reports to me. I have email older than you. My job is to make sure orders get carried out under two conditions: That the job is done right and that everyone comes home safe. Four out of five days a week I’m training personnel, including junior officers, because I was at my post when most of them were learning to walk.

I have orders. The captain just wants it done. He doesn’t care how.

Junior officers want it done right because they want to get promoted.

Junior enlisted want it done right because they don’t want to get demoted.

I don’t care about any of that. I can’t be promoted any more. Demoting me would take more brass than a John Philip Sousa convention. I’ve forgotten more about this unit than all of you put together will ever know. Without me this whole thing jumps up its own ass. I have three chevrons and four rockers on my sleeve. Every one of those stripes was purchased on nights, weekends and holidays, and paid for in blood.

Master Chief. There’s only one.

The Infamous 24 Part Two

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