The sale of this book without its cover….well, is, sort of, impossible since it really doesn’t have a cover but let us go through the legal spray out anyways. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Hands up to you who have books like this in your collection? Now that I put my hand down we can continue with the credits and copyright and legal and stuff that people just don’t ever pay attention to unless it is pumping their own horn.
An Original Publication of System* Publishing, a Tin Universe book published by System*Publishing, a division of System*Productions, Melbourne, Florida. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead or living dead, is entirely and very much so in the coincidental.
Written and Edited by Brian C. Williams
Any Additional Photography by Stainless Photography
Cover Digital Work by 74 Images
Pulled And Spoken
This is the Tin Universe or The Tin for short.
Though The Tin sounds stupid, like The Bay or The Facebook, something some assdouche hipster would call an alternate reality.
This naming didn’t come from any hipster, it came by the means of a traveler called Record. He was nothing like a hipster and more like a bit of hillbilly city dwelling healing medicine machine of pissed off footsteps.
He was lost at the time when he stumbled upon this place, himself being a traveler of realities, universes, and places in general. The guy who was already a little odd at times got extremely drunk with a group of Caspery scouts during a scientific expedition to a moon.
Not our moon, but a moon nonetheless.
Record was depressed at being lost and when asked to talk about all the places he had travelled to and from he went on a rant that lasted many rounds of strange brews and mixed drink, and when the subject of where he was at the moment came up he said, “…and then you have this tin bit place.”
And that’s that.
Kind of lame but it’s stuck with that name now.
This Earth on which these stories take place is much like our own but there are differences in a few noticeable ways.
Different in the sort of ways brothers are different from one another and sisters are not.
Different in the sort of ways cats are different from one another but dogs are not.
Different in the sort of ways humans are different from one another but hipsters are not.
BREAKING NEWS: U.S. Senator-“We will be killed in our homes if the President doesn’t use military troops in a preemptive way to stop Beyond Humans active within this country.”
BREAKING NEWS: A second plane has been shot down over the Russian/Ukraine border. Both sides as well as independent rebels have said they had nothing to do with this one and witnesses on the ground say the skies were filled with strange colours right before the planes exploded.
BREAKING NEWS: Media outlets covering ISIS story exaggerating possibility group having Beyond Humans in its ranks. U.S. politicians run with story as fact because, you know, two sides of stupid.
Forgetting about instead of taking care of wounds on the body of humanity is a very stupid path to take if you don’t want to get a knife in your back from directions you forgot were directions.
Maybe that was too much of an attempt to be over wordy and cleaver so let me try to explain what I meant in a way that can be better understood somewhere outside my own head: Let’s say if you have a politician who is rotten, simply removing him from office isn’t enough because he is very much still connected to the tree. Said politician needs to be thrown to the ground, strung up, and put on display as an example for the others who control the course of a country to go to sleep thinking about.
The one group of people who should be doing this…?
Hint, it shouldn’t be politicians.
What? Ok, the zero draft of this was being written just off an election year, my nerves were still frayed a bit when it came to politics.
I’ll try again.
If you have a assembly of people who betrayed, sacrificed, killed, and ate up the lives of others to position their place of power into a bigger seat, then when they lose a lot of power it really makes no sense to just let them go off to retire in comfort.
Exile never works.
But it is a good start to a number of movies.
That’s a writer’s way of saying something in a very long incoherent fashion to get their thoughts from one point to another.
From long incoherent thoughts to long names for things.
The Grandfather Pipes Of Odin is a very long name for a small group of people in Siberia who most have forgotten that they even existed… exist?
Sorry I’m sometimes tense illiterate.
Because The Grandfather Pipes Of Odin live in one of the most remote and dangerous places on the planet, Siberia is a little hostile to life (at least that’s what I learned from 80’s American propaganda action films), it further deepens their mysterious nature for those few who do know of their existence.
And not one of those few who do know of them plan to pay a visit or inquire about what they are up to in the modern world.
The big reason for that non-curiosity is because they do know about them. Know about their nature. In many circles trying to do anything about them would be seen as a poking of a bees nest they would rather not get involved with. The general feeling is let someone else catch that fire by accident and have to deal with it.
The Grandfather Pipes Of Odin live in a temple carved into a rock face that the cold and icy environment has kept hidden from the modern world.
I think one of the most frightening things to the modern mindset is discovering that the world still have mysterious to offer up.
Those few people I spoke of earlier who did know about the Pipes existence actually think they moved to China about a decade ago and then before that they were located in a set of Nordic mountains somewhere. No one knows of their current praying grounds.
I once had a girlfriend in college who said, “The thing about bad priests, they just won’t go away.”
Ok, I never had a girlfriend in college but I thought that sounded cool in my head.
The Grandfather Pipes Of Odin once were high priests of Odin and not the “We pray to get the crops growing” type. They heard his words in their ears and those words once gave them power over so many people.
It also gave them immortality, and status, but since most of the old Gods- Odin included, left for a place at the edge of the universe these once powerful human beings now only have isolation and loneliness.
Some have even hinted the Grandfather Pipes Of Odin at one time possessed The Bible Of The Orchid Secret, showing how powerful they were at their peak.
I kind of raced over the immortality part because whenever humans find a way to immortality it is always paved with price after price that has to be paid.
Don’t want to give away too much right away.
They sit in their temple eating from what they bring back from their hunts with only having one hobby as they watch the bones turn which tells them about other worlds, about the future.
Though calling Bone Watch a hobby is a bit like calling a hammer to the back of the head a kiss.
Today after months of starving one of them went out into the storms in search of a burning wreckage of knowledge and flesh that was about to be. Bones had told them of today, to be prepared and what to expect.
Them bones, them bones.
Riding
in a small plane is asking for a theatrical filled story to unfold, no guarantee of a quality story, but a theatrical story even so, but riding in a small plane during a storm is like saying at least it isn’t lightning during a rain storm.
Did that make sense?
Didn’t to me.
I thought about substituting spectacular for theatrical but then again that was the least of that sentences