Main Page: Crusaders of the Chrono-Crystal
Crusaders of the Chrono-Crystal Deleted Scenes
If you think my actual book is garbage, wait till you read some of the scenes that weren't good enough to make it in! I trimmed about 10,000 words in my futile attempt to get the manuscript down to a length that a publisher would accept from a first-time author. (It was still about 70,000 words too long.) A lot of times this was just trimming or shortening lines of dialogue here and there, but sometimes larger bits had to go as well. Some of them will be missed; others, not so much.
President Hudson Declares Martial Law
In this scene, after Jane wakes up from her nap aboard the Excelsior, Kaycee fills her in on recent political developments by showing her a news report. This scene was inserted in with a couple other things when I realized I needed more explicit explanation for why things had changed so much on their return to Salt Lake City, but then deleted when I realized he could just tell her the news himself in a couple sentences. This didn't have the same dramatic effect but was much better with the pacing. Also, at this point Rachel Hudson was only President of the United States. Later I promoted her to President of Earth, decided she was from New Zealand and almost completely de-emphasized the existence of the United States or any other sovereign nation.
“It’s about Earth. The United States, specifically.”
“Show me.”
Kaycee turned on the computer on the wall. “Most recent press conference with Rachel Hudson,” he told it, and the screen filled with results. “This is bad,” he said to Jane. “This is really bad. Play.”
“Thank you for joining me,” said President Hudson of the United States of America. “As most of you know, a few minutes ago one of our military vessels was attacked by what we believe to be the command ship of the pirate fleet. No lives were lost, and the pirate ship was forced to retreat, but nonetheless this is a dire moment for all of us.”
“She’s stoned, as usual,” said Jane.
“I know. Shhh,” said Kaycee.
“The pirates have grown audacious enough to commit an act of war against our country, and by extension all of Earth and the entire United Worlds,” Hudson continued. “This cannot go unanswered. It will not go unanswered. Effective immediately, American funding for the Anti-Piracy Coalition will triple. If they want war, we’ll damn well give it to them. This ‘War on Piracy’ has become exactly that – and we’re going to win it.”
“Sure,” said Jane, “just like we won the War on Poverty, the War on Drugs, the War on Terror, the War on –”
“Shhh, don’t miss this next part!” said Kaycee.
“There will be other changes as well,” said Hudson. “If the pirates are bold enough to challenge our military, who’s to say they won’t strike directly at our heartland? We must take direct action to ensure the security of all of our citizens, night and day. Also effective immediately, I am declaring a national state of emergency and imposing martial law until further notice, and I have been notified that many other countries are doing the same.”
“There it is,” said Kaycee, switching the computer off.
“It’s about Earth. The United States, specifically.”
“Show me.”
Kaycee turned on the computer on the wall. “Most recent press conference with Rachel Hudson,” he told it, and the screen filled with results. “This is bad,” he said to Jane. “This is really bad. Play.”
“Thank you for joining me,” said President Hudson of the United States of America. “As most of you know, a few minutes ago one of our military vessels was attacked by what we believe to be the command ship of the pirate fleet. No lives were lost, and the pirate ship was forced to retreat, but nonetheless this is a dire moment for all of us.”
“She’s stoned, as usual,” said Jane.
“I know. Shhh,” said Kaycee.
“The pirates have grown audacious enough to commit an act of war against our country, and by extension all of Earth and the entire United Worlds,” Hudson continued. “This cannot go unanswered. It will not go unanswered. Effective immediately, American funding for the Anti-Piracy Coalition will triple. If they want war, we’ll damn well give it to them. This ‘War on Piracy’ has become exactly that – and we’re going to win it.”
“Sure,” said Jane, “just like we won the War on Poverty, the War on Drugs, the War on Terror, the War on –”
“Shhh, don’t miss this next part!” said Kaycee.
“There will be other changes as well,” said Hudson. “If the pirates are bold enough to challenge our military, who’s to say they won’t strike directly at our heartland? We must take direct action to ensure the security of all of our citizens, night and day. Also effective immediately, I am declaring a national state of emergency and imposing martial law until further notice, and I have been notified that many other countries are doing the same.”
“There it is,” said Kaycee, switching the computer off.
Jane and G'guvl Discuss Politics
Another scene that was added simply because - I don't know, just because - and then trimmed to almost nothing because I figured it was a bit contrived and most people would find it boring. This is shortly after Jane and Lillis visit G'guvl at his apartment.
“But I can’t help liking President Hudson,” said G’guvl. “She just seems so confident, so determined. Fearless in the face of a crisis.”
“Yeah,” said Jane. “I guess she’s all right, as far as politicians go.”
“Which isn’t saying a lot,” said Lillis.
“Right, it’s like comparing the shininess of various turds. But she’s actually kept, like, two of her campaign promises. And she’s made it okay to use the word ‘American’ again, and be proud of it. It used to be all this ‘citizen of the universe’ BS.”
“But you are citizens of the universe,” said G’guvl. “You travel all over it.”
“Right, but I’m an American first and foremost.”
“Jane, you don’t even vote,” said Lillis.
“Only because I have trouble deciding on the shiniest turd.”
“I think even politicians deserve respect sometimes,” said G’guvl. “You know what else I like about President Hudson? She has a real spirit of – uh, what’s that word, Angelina?”
“Bipartisanship,” said Angelina, rolling her eyes.
“That she does,” said Jane. “She has a real talent for getting the Dumbocraps and Repugnantcans to agree on stuff. That way they can both be wrong.”
“So you like the Tea Party, then?” asked G’guvl.
“Not particularly, but I can’t think of an insulting pun to make with their name. I just have to say it in a contemptuous tone of voice. ‘Tea Party. Ugh.’ Like that.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, except that it’s full of politicians.”
“But I can’t help liking President Hudson,” said G’guvl. “She just seems so confident, so determined. Fearless in the face of a crisis.”
“Yeah,” said Jane. “I guess she’s all right, as far as politicians go.”
“Which isn’t saying a lot,” said Lillis.
“Right, it’s like comparing the shininess of various turds. But she’s actually kept, like, two of her campaign promises. And she’s made it okay to use the word ‘American’ again, and be proud of it. It used to be all this ‘citizen of the universe’ BS.”
“But you are citizens of the universe,” said G’guvl. “You travel all over it.”
“Right, but I’m an American first and foremost.”
“Jane, you don’t even vote,” said Lillis.
“Only because I have trouble deciding on the shiniest turd.”
“I think even politicians deserve respect sometimes,” said G’guvl. “You know what else I like about President Hudson? She has a real spirit of – uh, what’s that word, Angelina?”
“Bipartisanship,” said Angelina, rolling her eyes.
“That she does,” said Jane. “She has a real talent for getting the Dumbocraps and Repugnantcans to agree on stuff. That way they can both be wrong.”
“So you like the Tea Party, then?” asked G’guvl.
“Not particularly, but I can’t think of an insulting pun to make with their name. I just have to say it in a contemptuous tone of voice. ‘Tea Party. Ugh.’ Like that.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, except that it’s full of politicians.”
Why the Second Coming Hasn't Happened Yet
This story, despite its fantasy elements and stuff, was meant to be reasonably plausible as far as a real world setting is concerned. And it has a lot about Latter-day Saints. This posed a few theological problems for me, though. One of them is lampshaded in the book itself, though never addressed; namely, that aliens "aren't created in the image of God". (I later thought of a possible solution for that which could work for aliens in real life too, but I'm scared to mention it to anyone because they might find it sacrilegious. Don't tell anyone I think God might be a shapeshifter.) The other is the fact that in real life, the Second Coming is very imminent and I highly doubt society as we know it will be around in 2153. I came up with a solution to this that I thought was ingenious, but since it really had nothing to do with the plot, it had to go. It took place right after Jane tells Lillis that her parents were Mormons (as we were allowed to call ourselves back then), and before her second nightmare about the spiders.
That night she dreamed of a Mormon General Conference talk that had had a huge impact on her. How old was she? Seven? Twelve? The speaker was the President of the Church – what was his name? She couldn’t remember. She only remembered the kindly but careworn wrinkles of his face, and the kindly but careworn inflection of his voice.
“Brothers and sisters,” he said, “for some years now my counselors and I have been deeply troubled, and now I feel impressed to share it with you. Like Jacob of old, ‘it grieveth my soul and causeth me to shrink with shame before the presence of my Maker’ that I must do so, but I shall be blunt. We know many of you have said ‘My Lord delayeth his coming’, or that ‘the time is past for the words to be fulfilled’ which have been spoken by ancient and modern prophets.”
Seeing the sorrow in his eyes, she wondered if he was about to admit that it was all a crock.
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “The Lord has revealed to me that His Second Coming could have occurred decades ago, had the people of Zion been more diligent in performing their duties to prepare the earth for it.”
On the couch behind her, the gasps of Jane’s own parents added to those from the computer speakers, which sounded like all the air being sucked out of the Conference Center. Her own reaction was a raised eyebrow – how convenient, she thought.
“The Lord has allowed us our agency,” he continued. “He has not compelled us to follow His commands. And so we as a people have fallen short in missionary work, in temple work, and in the fundamental work of setting ourselves apart from the world and being an example of the believers. There has been much pride, judgmentalism, hypocrisy, contention, and backbiting within the Church. We have not been a light unto the world. Now, collectively, we are under a just condemnation.”
That caught her attention, all right. She smiled, elated that no less an authority than the “prophet” was finally pointing out what she’d noticed all along.
“Nonetheless, we may take some comfort in certain truths. First, the Lord does not expect perfection. He knows what He has to work with in us. Second, He is merciful, and will forgive our shortcomings if we repent and strive to improve. Third, His work will not be frustrated. Our failures will no more stop the Second Coming than the loss of the 116 manuscript pages stopped the coming forth of the Book of Mormon. As a servant of the Lord, I call upon all of us to…”
That night she dreamed of a Mormon General Conference talk that had had a huge impact on her. How old was she? Seven? Twelve? The speaker was the President of the Church – what was his name? She couldn’t remember. She only remembered the kindly but careworn wrinkles of his face, and the kindly but careworn inflection of his voice.
“Brothers and sisters,” he said, “for some years now my counselors and I have been deeply troubled, and now I feel impressed to share it with you. Like Jacob of old, ‘it grieveth my soul and causeth me to shrink with shame before the presence of my Maker’ that I must do so, but I shall be blunt. We know many of you have said ‘My Lord delayeth his coming’, or that ‘the time is past for the words to be fulfilled’ which have been spoken by ancient and modern prophets.”
Seeing the sorrow in his eyes, she wondered if he was about to admit that it was all a crock.
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “The Lord has revealed to me that His Second Coming could have occurred decades ago, had the people of Zion been more diligent in performing their duties to prepare the earth for it.”
On the couch behind her, the gasps of Jane’s own parents added to those from the computer speakers, which sounded like all the air being sucked out of the Conference Center. Her own reaction was a raised eyebrow – how convenient, she thought.
“The Lord has allowed us our agency,” he continued. “He has not compelled us to follow His commands. And so we as a people have fallen short in missionary work, in temple work, and in the fundamental work of setting ourselves apart from the world and being an example of the believers. There has been much pride, judgmentalism, hypocrisy, contention, and backbiting within the Church. We have not been a light unto the world. Now, collectively, we are under a just condemnation.”
That caught her attention, all right. She smiled, elated that no less an authority than the “prophet” was finally pointing out what she’d noticed all along.
“Nonetheless, we may take some comfort in certain truths. First, the Lord does not expect perfection. He knows what He has to work with in us. Second, He is merciful, and will forgive our shortcomings if we repent and strive to improve. Third, His work will not be frustrated. Our failures will no more stop the Second Coming than the loss of the 116 manuscript pages stopped the coming forth of the Book of Mormon. As a servant of the Lord, I call upon all of us to…”
Intro to Jane's High School Woes
This was the long, protracted beginning to Jane's flashback. Too long and too protracted, so I deleted most of it, moved a few bits, and cut straight to her in the bathroom with the necklace. The remaining scene is probably still too long, given that it's a detour from the main plot, but I can't bring myself to cut it further at the current time. Maybe later. Also, though I regretted losing the not-so-subtle jab at a certain politician I despised, it was gratuitous and self-serving anyway. Jacob Collins' name was later changed to Joaquin Tolentino.
Jane Padgett hated high school for various reasons – because it was boring, for instance, and because she felt constant unspoken pressure from her parents to keep her grades up in order to make something out of her life. But mostly she hated that she was always surrounded by girls who were prettier than her, smarter than her, more athletic than her, and consequently more popular than her. She didn’t want to be the center of attention all the time or anything like that, but she felt invisible at best. This was weighing heavily on her mind one particular day after watching Jacob Collins – one of the cutest boys in school – make horny eyes at Chantelle Anderson, one of the prettiest girls in school, and her friends throughout third period.
She shared this complaint with her friends, Cynthia Delmont and Bernard “the Brain” Brayton, as she was walking home with them. They were also invisible. Cynthia was invisible due to her modest bra size and flat rear end – she wasn’t the only girl in school to have such “problems”, but she was the only one who hadn’t opted to “fix” them with surgery. Bernard was invisible because his weirdness wasn’t the fun, quirky, socially acceptable kind. They turned to each other for support because they had no one else.
After listening sympathetically, Cynthia said, “Let her have her fun. You’re destined for greatness, but she’ll never amount to anything, except maybe a prostitute.”
“Prostitutes can make good money,” Bernard pointed out.
Cynthia glared at him. “Not helping.”
“Well, at least you have a soul.”
“Chantelle’s not a real ginger. She dyes her hair every morning with fresh blood.”
“Thanks, guys,” said Jane. They’d arrived at her house and she wanted to be alone for a while. “I don’t really need a solution. I just needed someone to listen. Thanks for that.”
“Anytime,” said Cynthia. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you, Jane,” said Bernard.
She waved as they walked on, then entered the gate to her home. Sitting atop a promontory at the end of a dirt path, it was a relatively large two-story house that had been built in the late nineteenth century and was the oldest inhabited structure in Silverport. Its upkeep was expensive, but her parents regarded it with almost as much pride as their artifact collections, and didn’t mind. Besides, it wasn’t their money.
No sooner had she taken a few steps than the pet door opened and she was set upon by her Labrador retriever, Tricia Marie McMillan, or “Trillian” for short. “All right, all right, I love you too,” said Jane, scratching the excited dog behind the ears. She smiled in spite of herself. Humans were so fickle and arbitrary and hard to please, but as long as you loved a dog she would love you back, period.
She couldn’t say the same for her cats, Pee Wee Herman and Luna Lovegood, who barely looked up from licking themselves when she entered the house. They paid no attention to her unless their food bowls were empty. It appeared they’d been vegetating all day in front of the computer, which somebody had carelessly left on CNS News. “Tragedy in the Killian system today,” Nico Medina was saying, “as a United Worlds convoy was ambushed by a Skreel fleet. Nearly two hundred –”
She turned it off; Nico Medina was good-looking, but she didn’t need to hear depressing news while she was already in a bad mood. The cats glared at her.
The strains of the "Ghostbusters" theme greeted her as she entered her bedroom. She smiled at the glass cages that held her hamsters, Mork and Mindy – her first attempt at a breeding pair after a legacy of playing it safe with same-sex couples like Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, and Tom and Jerry – and her axolotl, Rocky Balboa. Given the space and the money she would have collected an animal menagerie to rival Ellie Mae Clampett’s, but she contented herself with those she could afford.
But while seeing them had lightened her spirits a bit, she still felt weighed down with insecurity, and threw herself onto her bed with a heavy sigh. She stared up at the ceiling and the posters directly over her head – Harrison Ford, the Beatles, and the original one hundred fifty Pokémon, all of which she knew by heart.
Her robot, KC-1138, heard her come in and wheeled out of the closet where he’d been organizing her vintage compact discs. “Hey, Jane,” he said. Now here was someone who truly listened to and understood her, even if he only did it because he was programmed to.
“Hey, Kaycee,” she said. “How are my bids coming?”
“I just checked fifteen minutes ago. The Fat Albert lunchbox and Popeye the Sailor trash can are as good as yours, but the Calvin and Hobbes books will be a closer call.”
“Great, thanks.”
“I also kept an eye out for Hardy Boys 32 and 79, as requested, but no luck so far. But I did find some odds and ends. For example, a mint condition Obama ‘08 bumper sticker –”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Kaycee?” Jane said with another sigh. “I collect memorabilia, not junk.”
“Well saw-ree. Maybe you’d like to do all this tedious Internet browsing yourself.”
“I would, if I had the time.” She couldn’t help but smile again as she looked over her room at the treasures she’d accumulated. The government remained unaware that her parents’ archeological digs were much less expensive than the funds earmarked for them, and that the surplus was used to finance her own archeological business, of a sort. She seldom felt guilty. It wasn’t as if she was wasting taxpayer money; the government’s spending had no correlation with what it took in.
“Talk is cheap,” grumbled Kaycee, going back into the closet.
Still, her obsession with Earth culture was perhaps a symptom of the problem that troubled her. She didn’t fit in and she didn’t have much of a social life, and this stuff, as much as she loved it, didn’t bring lasting happiness. At times she felt tempted to break into song – in fact, this time she did. “Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think my collection’s complete? Wouldn’t you think I’m a girl... a girl who has... everything?”
Kaycee came back out. “Hey, who sings that?”
“Jodi Benson as Ariel in The Little Mermaid, 1989.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
She didn’t have the energy to retort, and decided instead to stop beating around the bush. The status quo was never going to change unless she changed it herself. “Kaycee,” she said, “I need something that will get people at school to notice me. Particularly boys. Particularly Jacob Collins.”
“Wear something fancy.”
“I don’t have anything fancy. You know that.”
“What about the Obitogi fertility necklace your parents brought home last week?”
She opened her mouth to protest, then realized she loved the idea. “Thanks,” she said, jumping out of bed and downstairs. Her parents weren’t home yet, so she went into their bedroom and opened the dresser drawer where they kept arrowheads and other small items that hadn’t been shipped to the museum. She grabbed it before school the next morning.
“Wow, Jane,” gushed Cynthia as they were walking to school, “that looks just like authentic Obitogi craftsmanship.”
“Nah,” said Bernard, pushing up the glasses that he wore for no other reason than to look intelligent, “the head is too narrow, and the proportion of the eyes to the nasal cavities is askew.”
Cynthia made a face at him. “Well, it’s close enough for a normal person. Where’d you get it, Jane?”
“Not from one of my usual stores,” said Jane with a wink. “But I can’t tell you where. If everybody went out and bought one, then it wouldn’t be special anymore.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” said Cynthia, pouting.
For the next two weeks she was the most popular girl in school. Maybe her parents had misidentified it – maybe it was actually a good luck charm. Not that she could ask them about it. If they found out she was taking it to school every day, or even once, their normal indifference to her activities would cease and there would be hell to pay. But it was worth the risk.
“Hey, Jane,” said Jacob Collins one day, “I’m having a party this weekend. Want to come?”
“Do I?” she said, clapping her hands gleefully. “Um, sure. If I don’t have anything else going on, I might stop by for a while.”
He laughed. “Great. Hope to see you there.”
She couldn’t believe her luck. She never got invited to anything.
Jane Padgett hated high school for various reasons – because it was boring, for instance, and because she felt constant unspoken pressure from her parents to keep her grades up in order to make something out of her life. But mostly she hated that she was always surrounded by girls who were prettier than her, smarter than her, more athletic than her, and consequently more popular than her. She didn’t want to be the center of attention all the time or anything like that, but she felt invisible at best. This was weighing heavily on her mind one particular day after watching Jacob Collins – one of the cutest boys in school – make horny eyes at Chantelle Anderson, one of the prettiest girls in school, and her friends throughout third period.
She shared this complaint with her friends, Cynthia Delmont and Bernard “the Brain” Brayton, as she was walking home with them. They were also invisible. Cynthia was invisible due to her modest bra size and flat rear end – she wasn’t the only girl in school to have such “problems”, but she was the only one who hadn’t opted to “fix” them with surgery. Bernard was invisible because his weirdness wasn’t the fun, quirky, socially acceptable kind. They turned to each other for support because they had no one else.
After listening sympathetically, Cynthia said, “Let her have her fun. You’re destined for greatness, but she’ll never amount to anything, except maybe a prostitute.”
“Prostitutes can make good money,” Bernard pointed out.
Cynthia glared at him. “Not helping.”
“Well, at least you have a soul.”
“Chantelle’s not a real ginger. She dyes her hair every morning with fresh blood.”
“Thanks, guys,” said Jane. They’d arrived at her house and she wanted to be alone for a while. “I don’t really need a solution. I just needed someone to listen. Thanks for that.”
“Anytime,” said Cynthia. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you, Jane,” said Bernard.
She waved as they walked on, then entered the gate to her home. Sitting atop a promontory at the end of a dirt path, it was a relatively large two-story house that had been built in the late nineteenth century and was the oldest inhabited structure in Silverport. Its upkeep was expensive, but her parents regarded it with almost as much pride as their artifact collections, and didn’t mind. Besides, it wasn’t their money.
No sooner had she taken a few steps than the pet door opened and she was set upon by her Labrador retriever, Tricia Marie McMillan, or “Trillian” for short. “All right, all right, I love you too,” said Jane, scratching the excited dog behind the ears. She smiled in spite of herself. Humans were so fickle and arbitrary and hard to please, but as long as you loved a dog she would love you back, period.
She couldn’t say the same for her cats, Pee Wee Herman and Luna Lovegood, who barely looked up from licking themselves when she entered the house. They paid no attention to her unless their food bowls were empty. It appeared they’d been vegetating all day in front of the computer, which somebody had carelessly left on CNS News. “Tragedy in the Killian system today,” Nico Medina was saying, “as a United Worlds convoy was ambushed by a Skreel fleet. Nearly two hundred –”
She turned it off; Nico Medina was good-looking, but she didn’t need to hear depressing news while she was already in a bad mood. The cats glared at her.
The strains of the "Ghostbusters" theme greeted her as she entered her bedroom. She smiled at the glass cages that held her hamsters, Mork and Mindy – her first attempt at a breeding pair after a legacy of playing it safe with same-sex couples like Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, and Tom and Jerry – and her axolotl, Rocky Balboa. Given the space and the money she would have collected an animal menagerie to rival Ellie Mae Clampett’s, but she contented herself with those she could afford.
But while seeing them had lightened her spirits a bit, she still felt weighed down with insecurity, and threw herself onto her bed with a heavy sigh. She stared up at the ceiling and the posters directly over her head – Harrison Ford, the Beatles, and the original one hundred fifty Pokémon, all of which she knew by heart.
Her robot, KC-1138, heard her come in and wheeled out of the closet where he’d been organizing her vintage compact discs. “Hey, Jane,” he said. Now here was someone who truly listened to and understood her, even if he only did it because he was programmed to.
“Hey, Kaycee,” she said. “How are my bids coming?”
“I just checked fifteen minutes ago. The Fat Albert lunchbox and Popeye the Sailor trash can are as good as yours, but the Calvin and Hobbes books will be a closer call.”
“Great, thanks.”
“I also kept an eye out for Hardy Boys 32 and 79, as requested, but no luck so far. But I did find some odds and ends. For example, a mint condition Obama ‘08 bumper sticker –”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Kaycee?” Jane said with another sigh. “I collect memorabilia, not junk.”
“Well saw-ree. Maybe you’d like to do all this tedious Internet browsing yourself.”
“I would, if I had the time.” She couldn’t help but smile again as she looked over her room at the treasures she’d accumulated. The government remained unaware that her parents’ archeological digs were much less expensive than the funds earmarked for them, and that the surplus was used to finance her own archeological business, of a sort. She seldom felt guilty. It wasn’t as if she was wasting taxpayer money; the government’s spending had no correlation with what it took in.
“Talk is cheap,” grumbled Kaycee, going back into the closet.
Still, her obsession with Earth culture was perhaps a symptom of the problem that troubled her. She didn’t fit in and she didn’t have much of a social life, and this stuff, as much as she loved it, didn’t bring lasting happiness. At times she felt tempted to break into song – in fact, this time she did. “Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think my collection’s complete? Wouldn’t you think I’m a girl... a girl who has... everything?”
Kaycee came back out. “Hey, who sings that?”
“Jodi Benson as Ariel in The Little Mermaid, 1989.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
She didn’t have the energy to retort, and decided instead to stop beating around the bush. The status quo was never going to change unless she changed it herself. “Kaycee,” she said, “I need something that will get people at school to notice me. Particularly boys. Particularly Jacob Collins.”
“Wear something fancy.”
“I don’t have anything fancy. You know that.”
“What about the Obitogi fertility necklace your parents brought home last week?”
She opened her mouth to protest, then realized she loved the idea. “Thanks,” she said, jumping out of bed and downstairs. Her parents weren’t home yet, so she went into their bedroom and opened the dresser drawer where they kept arrowheads and other small items that hadn’t been shipped to the museum. She grabbed it before school the next morning.
“Wow, Jane,” gushed Cynthia as they were walking to school, “that looks just like authentic Obitogi craftsmanship.”
“Nah,” said Bernard, pushing up the glasses that he wore for no other reason than to look intelligent, “the head is too narrow, and the proportion of the eyes to the nasal cavities is askew.”
Cynthia made a face at him. “Well, it’s close enough for a normal person. Where’d you get it, Jane?”
“Not from one of my usual stores,” said Jane with a wink. “But I can’t tell you where. If everybody went out and bought one, then it wouldn’t be special anymore.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” said Cynthia, pouting.
For the next two weeks she was the most popular girl in school. Maybe her parents had misidentified it – maybe it was actually a good luck charm. Not that she could ask them about it. If they found out she was taking it to school every day, or even once, their normal indifference to her activities would cease and there would be hell to pay. But it was worth the risk.
“Hey, Jane,” said Jacob Collins one day, “I’m having a party this weekend. Want to come?”
“Do I?” she said, clapping her hands gleefully. “Um, sure. If I don’t have anything else going on, I might stop by for a while.”
He laughed. “Great. Hope to see you there.”
She couldn’t believe her luck. She never got invited to anything.
Jane's Other Great Fear
I really wanted to keep this subplot in. I even cut it once before and then brought it back before cutting it again. I still think it was clever. However, it was just a little bit too goofy and sort of at odds with the attempted realism of the story, so I couldn't justify it slowing down the main plot. But now, thanks to the miracle of DVD, here it is for you to read in all its digitally remastered glory.
[After Jane and Lillis are captured by Ed the first time, on Logol V, and Jane boldly dares him to try several tortures on her, except tickling]
Ed did a slow facepalm. “Jane, Jane, Jane,” he said, shaking his head wearily. “It doesn’t have to come to that.” He put away his sword and drew closer. “Though we are adversaries, I have the greatest respect for you and under other circumstances I think we would get along swimmingly. For now, something else to improve our working relationship – perhaps a movie?”
Jane blinked. “A movie?”
“A movie...” said Phil, mentally reviewing the foreign concept that the nanobots were introducing to his brain.
“Yes, of course,” said Ed, looking completely serious. “All five of us. Jane, I heard you like old movies, so I found a real classic that I think you’ll enjoy.”
“Thank you.” Jane could hardly believe she was discussing this with a pirate captain. “Modern movies are nothing but contrived sex, violence, and product placements. What is it?”
He grinned. “You must have heard of it – it is known as The Star Wars Holiday Special!”
Jane’s body went rigid. Her hair stood on end. Her voice caught in her throat. Then she screamed and didn’t stop.
“Kidding, kidding!” he said hastily, backing away and waving his arms. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”
“Don’t kid about that,” she said, trembling as her pupils contracted. “Don’t even kid about that...”
“All right, so I crossed the line.”
“I hope making the slaves watch it isn’t on your list of atrocities.”
“I said I was kidding!”
[After Jane and Lillis are captured by Ed the second time, in the alternate timeline, aboard his ship]
“What now?” asked Jane. “Another torture session? The Star Wars Holiday Special?”
“I told you that was a joke,” he snapped. “Let it go, will you? Besides, it doesn’t exist in this timeline.”
Jane raised an eyebrow. “No kidding?” She turned to her friend. “Lillis, change of plans. We’re leaving things exactly as they are here.”
[After their other time travel missions have been completed, before Ed shows up at the neutral zone and makes his demands]
“Are we done skipping around for now?”
“No,” said Jane, “there’s something else I need to do, something crucial, before we get down to business. But I can do it myself. It won’t take long at all.”
* * *
The year was 1978; the place, an office building in southern California. Jane had transported herself directly into the hallway outside the door which, thanks to her meticulous historical research, she’d been able to visualize rather well. Then again, hallways and doors in office buildings tended to look the same. She figured that as soon as she took care of this she could go outside and enjoy the California sun.
Through the door she could hear muffled voices. “So, the Wookiees are celebrating Christmas –”
“Life Day.”
“What?”
“They don’t have Christmas in a galaxy far, far away. It’s called Life Day.”
This was definitely the right place. She knocked to announce herself, then opened the door and walked in. Three men sitting around a conference table, deep in discussion, looked up in surprise as she entered. Two of them were fairly nondescript businessmen, but one sported glasses and a beard and looked like a college student or philosophy professor.
“Hey, George,” she said to him.
He blinked at her. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Sorry, right, Mr. Lucas. I’m a huge fan of your work, especially the early stuff. I even think Howard the Duck was better than it got credit for.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Right, sorry, you haven’t – right. Okay, here’s the thing. Don’t do this!”
She gestured at the other two men. “As soon as this meeting’s over, they’re going to make a draft of the script, and then they’re going to give it to a couple of other guys who are going to change it and lead to the worst two hours of television in broadcast history.”
“That’s preposterous!” said one of the men. “This is Star Wars we’re talking about! Maybe you’ve heard of it? Highest-grossing film last year?”
“Yeah, it takes talent to ruin that, doesn’t it? Come on guys, I have a better idea. Just do the Boba Fett cartoon and scrap the rest. Millions will thank you.”
“Boba what?”
“Thank you for your concern,” said George, looking around as if he expected someone to jump out and explain that it was all a prank, “Miss –?”
“Padgett. Jane Padgett.” She grabbed his hand and pumped it enthusiastically.
“Right. Um...”
“Look, lady, we’re very busy,” said the man who hadn’t spoken yet, “so if you wouldn’t mind –”
“Oh, don’t mind me. Can I just sit here and watch you guys brainstorm?”
“I think not.”
“Come on, I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Security!” yelled the other man.
As they were dragging her out, she grabbed the doorframe and yelled, “One more thing, George! If you ever start thinking about changing your movie to make Greedo shoot first, don’t do it!”
“Er, okay. Whatever,” he said, still expecting someone to jump out.
As the guards removed her fingers from the doorframe and carried her down the hallway, she called out, “Oh, and maybe reconsider the whole ‘Jar Jar Binks’ thing!”
After she’d gone, George took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose to ward off a migraine. He hadn’t yet grown accustomed to the ups and downs of publicity. “Tell me,” he asked the two men, “is Hollywood always like this?”
And I guess I'll leave you with that! Another subplot that I won't copy-paste here because it was just a bunch of scattered fragments that I didn't bother preserving dealt with Jane being immensely attracted to Ed, and embarrassed/scared of said attraction. This was an homage of sorts to Campbell Black's phenomenal novelization of "Raiders of the Lost Ark", in which Marion has the same situation with the devious Frenchman Belloq. It was played much more seriously than in the movie where they just flirt a little and get drunk. But in that book it was natural and well-written; in mine, it was contrived and unconvincing and just made Jane seem like a boy-crazy bimbo. So eventually I had to face the facts and give up on it. - CRN
[After Jane and Lillis are captured by Ed the first time, on Logol V, and Jane boldly dares him to try several tortures on her, except tickling]
Ed did a slow facepalm. “Jane, Jane, Jane,” he said, shaking his head wearily. “It doesn’t have to come to that.” He put away his sword and drew closer. “Though we are adversaries, I have the greatest respect for you and under other circumstances I think we would get along swimmingly. For now, something else to improve our working relationship – perhaps a movie?”
Jane blinked. “A movie?”
“A movie...” said Phil, mentally reviewing the foreign concept that the nanobots were introducing to his brain.
“Yes, of course,” said Ed, looking completely serious. “All five of us. Jane, I heard you like old movies, so I found a real classic that I think you’ll enjoy.”
“Thank you.” Jane could hardly believe she was discussing this with a pirate captain. “Modern movies are nothing but contrived sex, violence, and product placements. What is it?”
He grinned. “You must have heard of it – it is known as The Star Wars Holiday Special!”
Jane’s body went rigid. Her hair stood on end. Her voice caught in her throat. Then she screamed and didn’t stop.
“Kidding, kidding!” he said hastily, backing away and waving his arms. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”
“Don’t kid about that,” she said, trembling as her pupils contracted. “Don’t even kid about that...”
“All right, so I crossed the line.”
“I hope making the slaves watch it isn’t on your list of atrocities.”
“I said I was kidding!”
[After Jane and Lillis are captured by Ed the second time, in the alternate timeline, aboard his ship]
“What now?” asked Jane. “Another torture session? The Star Wars Holiday Special?”
“I told you that was a joke,” he snapped. “Let it go, will you? Besides, it doesn’t exist in this timeline.”
Jane raised an eyebrow. “No kidding?” She turned to her friend. “Lillis, change of plans. We’re leaving things exactly as they are here.”
[After their other time travel missions have been completed, before Ed shows up at the neutral zone and makes his demands]
“Are we done skipping around for now?”
“No,” said Jane, “there’s something else I need to do, something crucial, before we get down to business. But I can do it myself. It won’t take long at all.”
* * *
The year was 1978; the place, an office building in southern California. Jane had transported herself directly into the hallway outside the door which, thanks to her meticulous historical research, she’d been able to visualize rather well. Then again, hallways and doors in office buildings tended to look the same. She figured that as soon as she took care of this she could go outside and enjoy the California sun.
Through the door she could hear muffled voices. “So, the Wookiees are celebrating Christmas –”
“Life Day.”
“What?”
“They don’t have Christmas in a galaxy far, far away. It’s called Life Day.”
This was definitely the right place. She knocked to announce herself, then opened the door and walked in. Three men sitting around a conference table, deep in discussion, looked up in surprise as she entered. Two of them were fairly nondescript businessmen, but one sported glasses and a beard and looked like a college student or philosophy professor.
“Hey, George,” she said to him.
He blinked at her. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Sorry, right, Mr. Lucas. I’m a huge fan of your work, especially the early stuff. I even think Howard the Duck was better than it got credit for.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Right, sorry, you haven’t – right. Okay, here’s the thing. Don’t do this!”
She gestured at the other two men. “As soon as this meeting’s over, they’re going to make a draft of the script, and then they’re going to give it to a couple of other guys who are going to change it and lead to the worst two hours of television in broadcast history.”
“That’s preposterous!” said one of the men. “This is Star Wars we’re talking about! Maybe you’ve heard of it? Highest-grossing film last year?”
“Yeah, it takes talent to ruin that, doesn’t it? Come on guys, I have a better idea. Just do the Boba Fett cartoon and scrap the rest. Millions will thank you.”
“Boba what?”
“Thank you for your concern,” said George, looking around as if he expected someone to jump out and explain that it was all a prank, “Miss –?”
“Padgett. Jane Padgett.” She grabbed his hand and pumped it enthusiastically.
“Right. Um...”
“Look, lady, we’re very busy,” said the man who hadn’t spoken yet, “so if you wouldn’t mind –”
“Oh, don’t mind me. Can I just sit here and watch you guys brainstorm?”
“I think not.”
“Come on, I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Security!” yelled the other man.
As they were dragging her out, she grabbed the doorframe and yelled, “One more thing, George! If you ever start thinking about changing your movie to make Greedo shoot first, don’t do it!”
“Er, okay. Whatever,” he said, still expecting someone to jump out.
As the guards removed her fingers from the doorframe and carried her down the hallway, she called out, “Oh, and maybe reconsider the whole ‘Jar Jar Binks’ thing!”
After she’d gone, George took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose to ward off a migraine. He hadn’t yet grown accustomed to the ups and downs of publicity. “Tell me,” he asked the two men, “is Hollywood always like this?”
And I guess I'll leave you with that! Another subplot that I won't copy-paste here because it was just a bunch of scattered fragments that I didn't bother preserving dealt with Jane being immensely attracted to Ed, and embarrassed/scared of said attraction. This was an homage of sorts to Campbell Black's phenomenal novelization of "Raiders of the Lost Ark", in which Marion has the same situation with the devious Frenchman Belloq. It was played much more seriously than in the movie where they just flirt a little and get drunk. But in that book it was natural and well-written; in mine, it was contrived and unconvincing and just made Jane seem like a boy-crazy bimbo. So eventually I had to face the facts and give up on it. - CRN
