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Showing posts by: Greg van Eekhout click to see Greg van Eekhout's profile
Thu
Apr 18 2013 9:00am

Last Son of Tomorrow

John was found as a child on the edge of a farm, and soon began to display amazing powers. He helped mankind, for a time, but as life went on, and on, this superhuman set his sights to the stars instead. With an infinite lifespan and an apparently limitless set of powers, John has to face the hardest of questions. What do you do, what should you do, when you can do anything?

[Read “Last Son of Tomorrow” by Greg van Eekhout]

Tue
Jun 21 2011 10:00am
Excerpt

I’m grateful for the opportunity to present the first two chapters of my new middle grade science fiction novel, The Boy at the End of the World, which goes on sale June 21 from Bloomsbury Children’s. From the publisher’s copy:

The last boy on earth is out to save humankind!

Fisher is the last boy on earth—and things are not looking good for the human race. Only Fisher made it out alive after the carefully crafted survival bunker where Fisher and dozens of other humans had been sleeping was destroyed.

Luckily, Fisher is not totally alone. He meets a broken robot he names Click, whose programmed purpose—to help Fisher “continue existing”—makes it act an awful lot like an overprotective parent. Together, Fisher and Click uncover evidence that there may be a second survival bunker far to the west. In prose that skips from hilarious to touching and back in a heartbeat, Greg van Eekhout brings us a thrilling story of survival that becomes a journey to a new hope—if Fisher can continue existing long enough to get there.

Thu
Apr 14 2011 5:18pm

Moff Tarkin

Being part of the original Star Wars generation, I have always known a dark future. (And, yes, I say Star Wars and future in the same sentence, fully aware of the thing about “a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.” But these movies have blasters and space ships and robots, so if we’re going to argue about when Star Wars takes place, let’s do it later, over pizza and beer.) Anyway. The future. The dark, dark future. A future run by a brutal, Captain-Antilles-choking, Alderaan-obliterating, carbonite-freezing, hand-amputating, authoritarian government. You don’t think it’s a dystopia? Just look at Grand Moff Tarkin’s uniform. You don’t see jodhpurs in a utopia.

If Star Wars wasn’t enough to prepare me for a dark future, there was the Planet of the Apes franchise, conveniently repeated for me in Los Angeles on KABC’s Channel Seven 3:30 movie. Apes enslaving humans! Mutants with boils and an atom bomb! Ape riots in Century City! They killed baby Caesar’s parents!

[Dark, dark, dark]

Tue
Jun 2 2009 2:34pm

New Mutants #2
“Return of the Legion, Part 2: Security Blankets”
Zeb Wells, writer
Diogenes Neves, pencils
Cam Smith with Ed Tadeo, inks

Back in 1982, when there were still only a manageable number of X-Men titles on the racks (by which I mean just one), Marvel quite reasonably figured the world could stand another team of beleaguered mutant superheroes. And so were born The New Mutants, junior X-Men whose powers had just begun to manifest at the onset of puberty. The X-Men’s original school element hadn’t been emphasized in a very long time, so it was refreshing to see Professor Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters return to its original function of teaching adolescent superheroes how to use their powers for the betterment of humans and mutants. 

Since then, these new mutants have grown up and graduated and dispersed, but now they’re back in something very close to their original configuration. I have a tendency to get misty-eyed about my personal golden age of comic book reading (which included cola-flavored slushy drinks from the corner Mi-T Mart and many quarters sunk into Tempest and Tron), so I consider this relaunch quite rad. At least in concept.

[More mutants below the fold.]

Tue
May 12 2009 7:49am
Excerpt

Tor.com, in collaboration with Suvudu, is proud to present the first chapter of Greg van Eekhout’s debut novel, Norse Code, which goes on sale on 19 May from Spectra. From the publishers’ copy:

Is this Ragnarok, or just California?

The NorseCODE genome project was designed to identify descendants of Odin. What it found was Kathy Castillo, a murdered MBA student brought back from the dead to serve as a valkyrie in the Norse god’s army. Given a sword and a new name, Mist’s job is to recruit soldiers for the war between the gods at the end of the world—and to kill those who refuse to fight.

But as the twilight of the gods descends, Mist makes other plans.

After you’re done reading, you can go on to read Chapter 2 of Norse Code on Suvudu starting today.

Tue
May 5 2009 9:30am
Original Story

This story is also available for download from major ebook retailers.

John was born with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men, and he often wondered why. But as a boy, it was simply wonderful to have those abilities. He could lift his father’s tractor overhead before he learned to read. He could outrace a galloping horse. He couldn’t be cut or bruised or burned. He could fly.

But his life was not a trading card with a heroic-looking photograph on one side and a convenient list of his abilities on the other. He had to discover himself for himself. It took him years to realize he could fire laser beams from his eyes. That he could force his lungs to expel nearly frozen carbon dioxide. And it wasn’t until his mid-thirties that he realized he’d probably stopped aging biologically somewhere around the age of twenty-two.

His parents weren’t perfect people. His mother drank, and when she did, she got mean. His father had affairs. But when they understood that the baby they’d found abandoned on the edge of their farm wasn’t like other children—was probably, in fact, unlike any other child who’d ever been born—they cleaned up their acts as best they could. They taught themselves to be better people, and then they conveyed those hard-won lessons to their son. They were as good as they could be. When they died while John was away at college, he decided if he could be half as wise, as kind, as generous as they were, then he could be proud of himself.

Driving back to the city after his parents’ funeral, he began his career. There was a commuter train derailment, a bad one, with a fully occupied car dangling off the Utopia Street Bridge, sixty feet above the Tomorrow River. John got out of his car and left it behind on the clogged highway. Fully visible in bright daylight, he leaped into the sky, and moments later, he had the train car resting safely on the bridge. He freed passengers from twisted metal. He flew those who needed immediate emergency care to the hospital, and then he returned to the scene of the accident. He thought it might be necessary to file a report of some kind with the police. With dozens of cameras pointed at him, microphones and tape recorders shoved in his face, questions being barked at him as if he’d done something wrong, he felt like he might suffocate. He wished he could turn and walk back to his car and drive to his dorm, maybe go out for beers with his friends. But he knew he’d never be able to do that now. He’d chosen otherwise.

He coughed nervously. The questions stopped. Everyone was quiet. Everyone was waiting. “I’m John,” he said. “I’m here to help.”

And for the next sixty years, that was just what he did.

It was the least significant period of his life.