8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks #16

Today we meet a new character: Rand Hart. He is the main character in a new story I’m writing. My intention for the Eight Sentence Sunday is to simply put out for review and comment successive 8 sentence snippets of the first chapter of the story.

The time is Friday, 6 May 1938. Hart is aboard the Hindenburg, playing poker. He is a professional gambler. For those who know a bit about the Hindenburg, you will have already caught the initial alternative history element: the Hindenburg was destroyed by fire on 6 May 1937.

Without further adieu, here is Rand Hart:

Rand Hart couldn’t imagine what the German’s hand was. He was looking at four jacks. Certainly the possibility existed the fellow had something better, but that possibility was slim. Very slim.

The last round of betting saw the other American fold. Now only Helmut von Osler and he remained at the table. The chips in the center represented over twenty-three thousand dollars. Hart ran through the probability tables in his mind.

To be continued!

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8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks #15

One of the things I love about the time period from 1920 into the 1950s, is the concept of the future they had. What the future would look like, what we would be doing. What might have been. And, yes, I’m still waiting for my flying car.

In the forthcoming The Golden Fleece Affair, I’ve incorporated a couple of those wonderful things imagined by the dreamers of the dieselpunk era. We’ve already met Ernest the robot. Today, we’ll see what a suburb of the the “future” is like. We “meet” the New York City suburb of Grand Futureton. Granted, we only have a barebones description today. In the retrofuture that never was, we’ll learn more about Grand Futureton as Lady Dru pursues yet another story.

The “suburb” covers three square miles and is a two thousand five hundred foot tall building. The shape of the massive skyscraper is that of a domed cylinder. Radiating out from the cylinder are twenty columns which comprise the living units. Each column is one thousand seven hundred feet tall and has one hundred ten floors. Inside the cylinder are places of business, shops, department stores, light industrial establishments, roads, and parks. A rail line enters the cylinder on the ground floor. Airships can dock in the dome. Surrounding the skyscraper is an enormous park.

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8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks #13

We cannot today imagine the luxurious air travel that was once the standard for travelers. The world’s first airline was the DELAG, founded on 16 November 1909. The airline used Count Zeppelin’s rigid airships. By the time World War I began, DELAG had carried over 34,000 passengers on almost 1600 commercial flights. While there were a couple accidents, no passengers were killed and only one was injured. The accommodations were spacious and passengers were served food and drinks by a steward.

After the war, airship travel became legendary and easily equalled if not surpassed the luxury provided by any ocean liner of the day. The Hindenburg even had a bar and smoking lounge and on its first year of operation, a grand piano. Showers were also available for passengers.

But fixed wing, heavier than air, seaplanes almost rivaled the airships in comfort during the years between the world wars. The Boeing Clippers and the Dornier DoX interiors look like lounges in a fancy bar compared to today’s plane seating where one feels like a squished sardine in an overstuffed can.

After World War II, plane travel in the 1950s kept to the earlier tradition and transoceanic flights even offered sleeping accommodations for passengers.

The question one must ask one’s self is, what happened? My guess is airlines chose profit over passenger comfort.

In today’s snippet from my forthcoming novel, The Golden Fleece Affair, we get a taste of what flying used to be like. Admiral Rosendahl explains why the Argo is flying around Chicago and then Lady Dru describes breakfast, airship-style. Our snippet:

“I’d rather fly around a storm, than through one. Makes for a smoother ride,” he said.

When I woke Sunday morning, Detroit was behind us and we were over Lake Erie. Lakehurst was before us and the completion of the first leg of our journey. Breakfast was continental-style and we served ourselves from a table loaded with pastries, rolls, jam, marmalade, fruit, soft boiled eggs, toast, coffee, and tea.

To our surprise, Jake Branson brought out a portable record player and a stack of records. Being Sunday morning, he started with a Bach cantata and one of Handel’s Chandos Anthems. After the sacred concert, we listened to works by Chopin and Elgar and songs by the famous tenor Mario Lanza.

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8 Sentence Sunday On Dieselpunks #12

In today’s snippet of the forthcoming second Lady Dru novel, The Golden Fleece Affair, we get her reaction to learning that not only is the mythical Golden Fleece real, but media mogul Walter Ramsey Hall wants Dru and Karl to get it for him. He’s terminally ill and wants the fleece to cure his sickness and give him long life.

Dru and Karl were in the Soviet Union only last year (The Moscow Affair) and have no desire to go back. The country has descended into civil war and been invaded by Hitler and Mussolini, who are backing the Czarists.

Here are our 8 sentences for today:

Neither of us said anything. I, for one, had no desire to go back to Russia. Besides, everyone and his aunt and uncle wanted the damn thing. As sure as I love Karl and the sky is blue, there was going to be a lot of shooting and bloodletting over this hunk of wool. Not something I wanted to be in the middle of.

He looked at us, undoubtedly guessing we weren’t excited about the assignment. He simply said, “I won’t play hardball, Karl, Dru. I am asking you, as a friend, to do this for me.”

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8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks #11

Today’s snippet picks up from last Sunday’s. Inquiring minds wanted to know what Dru and Dunyasha were going to do with their pistols. Today we find out. The Argo, which is the former USS Los Angeles, is under attack by a pair of Soviet built biplanes. The airship is inflated with hydrogen, which makes for a potentially dangerous situation. But as Dru points out, it is difficult to shoot down a hydrogen filled airship. Everything has to be just right.

So here is today’s snippet. Once again, Dru and Dunyasha are in the thick of the action.

A second biplane appeared and opened fire, the bullets hitting above us.
“They’re going for the gas cells,” I said.
“Operation Barbecue,” Dunyasha shot back.
“Probably not. It’s pretty difficult to shoot down an airship. Even one filled with hydrogen.”
I took careful aim and, as the plane banked to avoid hitting us, emptied the magazine of the Sauer. Dunyasha did likewise with her Luger. A futile attempt.

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8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks #9

Today’s snippet is from my Lady Dru WIP. Our intrepid heroine, her companion, Karl, and Mr Hall’s Man Friday have boarded the airship and are waiting for takeoff. They meet the two ancient history professors who are accompanying them. Here is today’s snippet:

Karl and I joined the professors at their table. Franzen had his pipe in hand, unlit.

“Rather uncivilized not being able to smoke,” Franzen said.

“Better that then risking us all burning to death,” Doctor Rodman replied.

“Even with the German advancements in sealants and hydrogen purity, better safe than sorry,” I said.

“I suppose,” Franzen admitted.

“What do you make of the discovery?” Karl asked.

“Of course, we’ve only seen photographs and read a description,” Doctor Rodman said, “but we’re hopeful it is the genuine article.”

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8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks #4

What is science fiction, or even science fantasy, without a robot? In today’s snippet we meet “Ernest”. At this point in the novel (hot off my pencil as of last night), “Ernest” has just been uncrated. No one in Lady Dru’s party knew “he” even existed. Except the rather suspicious Mafeking Smith, who brought the machine along. A historical note here. Ernest Schiebold did indeed work on a particle beam weapon for the Germans in WW II and the company Richert and Seifert produced the parts. Weaving fact in with fiction, I think, helps to make the fiction more believable.

So here goes:

…before us was an odd looking machine. Mounted on caterpillar treads was a brushed steel cylinder, with a domed top. Attached to the sides were two mechanical arms. From the top came a rod and attached to the rod was a device that looked something like and electric torch. The entire machine was about seven feet tall. The width, from tread to tread, was also seven feet; the cylinder itself, five feet.

Pointing to the machine, Mafeking said, “Meet Ernest. He is a Class III Robotic Wonder Weapon Self-Propelled. Developed by Richert and Seifert, Ernest employs the latest in particle beam weaponry: the Schiebold Röntgenkanone IV-D.”

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