Knots & Anchors by S. Y. Affolee
(Currently incomplete, last updated 12/3/11)
Copyright © S. Y. Affolee, 2011
I found out he's a microbiologist who writes as a hobby
This is good science fantasy for 165 pages, but I hadn’t noticed the “incomplete” in the heading so it doesn’t have an ending. But I enjoyed the story enough I was only mildly disappointed.
Then there’s another 100 pages as he explores several timeline variations. Again no definitive ending but I found it fun reading anyway, all 92,000 words.
Quote:
Original Timeline Chapter 1
“Knot finders are like the undead. You can't kill them unless you take off the head.”
The official inquisitor of the Hall of Justice squinted at Wray. “There's no such thing as the undead, Your Honor.” He shook the square bottle in his right hand and the remaining poison sloshed around the glass like liquid emeralds . The other half had been poured down the throat of the inquisitor's latest subject, a woman strapped to a rack a few feet away.
She was barefoot. The rest of her clothing were rags. And her head hung down with dark tangled hair obscuring her features. Her body twitched for a moment before relaxing. She raised her head revealing strange brown-gold eyes. Something wrong skittered behind her gaze. Wray gave the inquisitor a stingy smile. “Any more of that and she will be of no use.” “I'm just trying to do my job, Your Honor.” The inquisitor smiled back revealing black teeth. “Justice wanted a confession so I'm going to give 'em one.” “The truth serum works best in smaller doses.” “Well, what will you have me do? The git won't say anything no matter what I do.”
“I have a better idea.” Wray folded his arms until they disappeared under the folds of his gray-green judicial robes. A joke, he thought, on him. He was no judge. But unlike others who fell into the thankless job and never got out again, he was going to do something about it. And the wretch on the rack was his ticket to it. “Extracting a confession and capital punishment are mere formalities under the law. The evidence is quite clear on the matter. And the victim has no friends or family, in this jurisdiction at least, who could plead otherwise. I've spoken with Calner. The knot finder will be of more use to us alive than dead.” “Oh? What sort of use?” “For traversing broken tethers.” The woman on the rack screeched. “No! Just kill me now. That's suicide!”
The inquisitor set the bottle of poison down on a nearby table and scratched his head. “Well, if that's the case, I'd say the use would be worse than the punishment. Broken tethers are supposedly impossible unless you're a legendary Ancient. Are you sure you don't want me to continue to extract a confession?” “I'm sure.” The woman screamed. “You bastard! You don't know what the hell you're asking, you privileged toad. There are things on the tethers you don't know about. And if you knew about them, you'd think twice about traversing the tethers, even to see dear old grandma. There are things out there. Things that if you saw, you'd want to gouge your eyes out.” She began thrashing around on the rack, but the leather ropes held and all she succeeded in doing was tangling her hair further.
“The git is mad,” said the inquisitor as he rolled his eyes. “There's no rhyme or reason to her fits. You say something, it could be anything, and she goes off. Nearly skewered one of my assistants earlier when he decided to question her about her family.” “Mad or not, knot finders are hard to come by,” said Wray. “Even harder to come by are any knot finders who will traverse a broken tether. Or in this case, unwillingly.” “Good luck with that. It's going to be difficult to have her come along with you with the git in this state. Do you want me to use the tranquilizer?” “Have you used the tranquilizer on her before?” “No. But there's always a first time for everything.”
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