Books of 2020: Quarter 1

Just to get this out of the way, yes, I have read all of these books before. Late last year I found out the release date of the 16th Dresden Files novel by Jim Butcher (and possibly the 17th too!) will be ... sometime this year. I know I could just look it up again, but I'm pretty sure that date is for the hardcover and I try my best not to buy those since they are harder to carry around and don't fit well into my shoeboxes. I'm probably looking at another year until I can get the new book in my preferred paperback. So, to pass the time and to remind myself of everything that's happened so far, I decided to re-read the entire series again. To be honest, I wasn't sure how long it would take to finish 15 books (it took me all of last year to read 20), but it might actually take me less time than I expected. Obviously, spoilers, but you've got 15 books to read if you start so I'm sure you'll forget everything here by the time you actually get to it in the books.


Storm Front by Jim Butcher

"Magic came from life itself, from the interaction of nature and the elements, from the energy of all living beings, and especially of people. A man's magic demonstrates what sort of person he is, what is held most deeply inside of him. There is no truer gauge of a man's character than the way in which he employs his strength, his power."


Harry Dresden is Chicago's only magical private investigator (you can find him in the phone book under "W" for "Wizard"). As a consultant for the police department's Special Investigations Unit, he's called in to assist on supernatural situations the police aren't prepared to handle. A double murder involving an associate of the city's most notorious crime boss and an escort of the city's most famous brothel wouldn't be something he would normally handle. But when both of them are found dead with their hearts ripped from their chests, Dresden knows he's the only one who can catch the killer.

The first book of the Dresden Files series. The books themselves are easily digestible and aren't too long. For a second reading, I can see now how the story is set-up: As a wizard in an urban fantasy series, the obvious first opponent should be another wizard, or in this case a warlock as he's utilizing black magic and violating the Laws of Magic. This provides a foil for the Dresden so the reader can see why Dresden is the good guy and the other guy is the bad guy while still learning about the magic system that will be running in this series. With an easy to understand first opponent, Butcher uses the rest of the book to establish other characters that will be appearing throughout the series such as Karrin Murphy, in charge of Chicago PD's Special Investigations Unit; Gentleman Johnny Marcone, Chicago's crime boss; Bianca, the city's premier madam and a Red Court Vampire (yes, there will be different types of vampires in the series). The story is not just a detective story to find a killer, but also sets-up who Dresden is for the beginning of this series.


Fool Moon by Jim Butcher

"In the center of the pool was a paw print, in the dust, a paw print almost as big as my spread hand. Canine. Dots at the tips of the paw spoke of heavy nails, almost claws.
   I looked up through the windows at the rounded silver shape of the almost-full moon.
   'Oh, hell,' I breathed. 'Oh, hell.'"

"It was a perfect hunter, a perfect killer, fast and strong, relentless and deadly. It was no wonder that I had lost to such a magnificently dangerous being. I hated to go, but at least I hadn't gotten beaten by some scabby troll or whining, angst-ridden vampire."


Harry Dresden is called off the books to investigate what at first looks like an animal attack, the body brutally torn and ripped apart). After tacking down a lead, he discovers the culprit is likely to be a werewolf. Except, as he learns, there's more than one kind of werewolf and all types are in town just in time for another full moon. If Dresden can't solve the case soon, more mutilated bodies are sure to be found.

An okay storyline, not one of my favorites, but an okay one. The main attraction I had to this story was the several different types of werewolves that the story dealt with and even one that I hadn't considered before. It introduces The Alphas, a group of kids who can transform into wolves as their one spell. From a writer's point of view (stupid over-analysis), it's a great second book. I've been listening to a lot of interviews with writers again and the publishing process always seems to go: write book one, look for a publisher, write book two while book one is being shopped around while not sure if book one will get picked up. In the face of uncertainty, it's best to have a somewhat complete story to sell in case no one wants it after that. This book, as well as the first, wrap up really well in case no publisher was smart enough to pick these up and continue with them.


Grave Peril by Jim Butcher

"Michael half-smiled. 'The Lord will never give you a burden bigger than your shoulders can bear, Harry. All we can do is face what comes and have faith.'
    I gave him a sour glance. 'I need to get myself some bigger shoulders, then. Someone in accounting must have made a mistake.'"

"Besides that, in the circles of the supernatural community, an Old World code of conduct still ruled. When you have a problem, you settle it face to face, within the circle. You don't bring in the cops and the other mortals as weapons. They're the nuclear missiles of the supernatural world. If you show people a supernatural brawl going on, it's going to scare the snot out of them and the next thing you know, they're burning everything and everyone in sight."


Someone is stirring up the ghosts around Chicago, making them stronger and more aggressive than usual. They've got Harry Dresden and is friend, Michael Carpenter, running around Chicago to put them all back to rest, and trying to solve who is disturbing them. But it's never just one thing with Dresden. At the same time, he's called to act as representative of the White Council, the governing body of the wizard community, to observe the ascension of Bianca within the ranks of the Red Court vampires. Having been threatened by Bianca before (see "Storm Front"), Dresden knows it's a trap but one that can't be avoided.

I was really planning on skipping this book as I dislike ghost stories. That's just a personal preference, it's just the idea of fighting ghosts that I don't like (in my head, it seems really stupid). However, I re-read a recap of this book and remembered that's it's very pivotal in the overarching storyline going forward in the Dresden files. Yes, this is the one that pushes into an over-arcing storyline for the next several books with the White Council of Wizards and Vampires going to war. Plus, this one introduces Michael Carpenter, a knight of the Cross and wielder of one of three Holy swords. If there's one thing I love about the Dresden files stories, is just how likable Butcher makes the side characters that they could probably have their own interesting series too. This book also introduces more of the supernatural community, mainly the Vampire Courts but also a couple other supernatural figures.


Summer Knight by Jim Butcher

"She smiled, slower, more sensual, and every bit as alien. 'I have many names,' she murmured. 'But you may call me Mab. Queen of Air and Darkness. Monarch of the Winter Court of the Sidhe.'"

"'Dresden. Am I interrupting anything?
    'Well I was going to settle down with a porn video and a bottle of baby oil, but I really don't have enough for two.'"

"'The Sidhe crowd thinks you're an interesting mortal pet of Mab's. The vampire wannabe crowd thinks you're some kind of psychotic vigilante with a penchant for vengeance and mayhem. Sort of a one-man Spanish Inquisition. Most of the magical crowd thinks you're a distant, dangerous, but smart and honorable. Crooks think you're a hit man for the outfit, or maybe one of the families back East. Straights think you're a fraud trying to bilk people out of their hard-won cash, except Larry Fowler, who probably wants you on the show again.'"


With the White Council and the Red Court vampires officially at war, the wizards need any advantage they can get against the cunning and savage enemy. Harry Dresden himself has already had at least one assassination attempt taken on him. To make matters worse, as his actions were what drew the White Council into the war in the first place, many of his own people suspect he may be working with the vampires. To ease their suspicions and secure safe travel routes through the Nevernever, Dresden must accept a task from Mab, Queen of the Winter Fae: To find the killer of the Summer Knight, the Summer Fae's mortal champion and prevent a full-scale war between Summer and Winter Fae which could start either a new ice age or rampant natural growth in the mortal world.

This book introduces more of the Fae (so far, the only other one introduced was Dresden's fairy godmother) as well as their power structure, separating them between Summer and Winter Fae. The Fae are the first enemies that aren't human (all the other ones were sort of human) and thus have different values, rules to obey, and abilities than a lot of the other characters. The Fae, for instance, can't out-right lie, which means they're adept at dodging questions, making life difficult for someone trying to investigate them.



Death Masks by Jim Butcher

"'Kincaid?' the girl asked, her voice whimsical, 'Can you be trusted?'
     'You're paid up through April,' the man replied, his eyes still scanning the street. 'After that I might get a better offer.'
     'There,' the girl said to me. 'Kincaid can be trusted until April. He's an ethical man, in his way.'"

"He wasn't five feet away. The blond thief aimed for the center of mass and didn't miss him once. The man folded his arms as bullets hit him, tearing new wounds that bled freely. He rolled his eyes after the fourth shot, and made a rolling 'move this along' gesture with his left hand until Valmont's gun clicked empty, the slide open."

"I ground my teeth. 'I'm not different in any way that matters. I'm not any better than anyone else. We all put our pants on one leg at a time.'
     'Granted,' Nicodemus said. 'But a century from now, your mortal associates will be rotting in the earth, whereas, barring amputation or radical shifts in fashion, you will still be putting your pants on one leg at a time.'"


Harry Dresden is hired by a Vatican priest to find the stolen Shroud of Turin, an easy job for a wizard when the thieves are just ordinary people. Except he's not the only one after the shroud. Dresden, Michael Carpenter and the other two holy sword wielding knights of the Cross are going to go up against The Denerians, a group possessing silver coins that grant their bearers extraordinary power thanks to the Fallen Angels trapped inside. If the Denerians recover the shroud, they'll use it's power to create a plague the world has never experienced before. To make matters worse, a nobleman of the Red Court appears in Chicago to challenge Dresden to a dual in order to bring the war to a quick end. And, just to make life even more confusing for Dresden, his half-vampire ex-girlfriend is back in town.

One of my favorite books in the series. The Denerians are a formidable foe for Dresden to deal with, not only in this book but moving forward as well. Just like with Supernatural (or was this written first?), a lot of supernatural stories seem to eventually find their way to Christianity with angels, fallen angels, and even God. Plus this book introduces Kincaid, a kind of supernatural hitman that will appear later in the series as well.


Blood Rites by Jim Butcher

"I checked my problem inventory:
    Multiple injuries, including a vicious headache from where Inari had socked me.
    On one side of lurked a mysterious wielder of a sloppy but lethal curse.
    On the other side, a homicidal vampire and her new crew of killers.
    And, lest I forget, somewhere behind me was a cold, distant mercenary who was going to kill me if I didn't come up with the cash.
    What a mess. And it wasn't yet midmorning."


In need of quick cash and as a favor to a friend, Harry Dresden takes a job from Thomas, a White Court vampire, to protect a friend from an entropy curse that is not only ruining his film productions but also killing the women around him. As if one job wasn't enough, Dresden goes off the books to hunt down a nest of Black Court vampires after they botch an assassination attempt on his life.

There comes a point in every hero's story where they stop playing defense and go on the offensive, showing off just how badass the heroes really are. As he is on the defensive the entire time on set of a porn movie either trying to figure out who is causing the entropy curse or trying to divert its energy, it is a cool juxtaposition to see Dresden gather some allies and strike at the Black Court vampires in their own nest in the basement of a run-down building surrounded by mind-ravished thugs and dogs.


Dead Beat by Jim Butcher

"I pulled open my coat and showed Butters my shoulder holster and gun. Then I reached behind me and drew out my staff from the back of the SUV. 'If they show up, I'm going to ruin their whole day.'
     He chewed on his lip. 'You can do that, right?'
     I took a look around and said, 'Butters, trust me. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's ruining people's days.'"

"The Wardens had been one of my biggest fears practically since I had learned about their existence. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing the object of that fear take a hostile interest in Grevane and company. Like when Darth Vader turns against the emperor and throws him down the shaft. There's nothing quite so cool as seeing someone who scares the hell out of you go at an enemy."

"'That it will be your job to protect mortals in this area. To be vigilant against supernatural threats in your region, and represent the Council in matters of diplomacy. To aid and assist other wizards who come to you for aid and protection, and, when required, to strike out at the enemies of the Council, such as the Red Court and their allies.'
    I frowned. 'Uh, I pretty much do that anyway.'"


Harry Dresden is blackmailed by Marva, oldest of the Black Court vampires and sole survivor of Dresden's raid pulled off in the last book, to find the Word of Kemmler. Of course, at the same time, six necromancers, some of them former students of Kemmler, appear in town hunting for their master's old work, a spell to grant the user incredible power.

Of the seven books I've re-read so far, I think this is my favorite for one, simple reason: Zombie T-rex! Plus it introduces the Wardens as allies of Dresden rather than just people on the sidelines or harassing him because they suspect him of using black magic. Also, this is the book where the stories start to feel longer. I'm not going to look, but I'm pretty sure that this one is several pages longer than all the others, and the ones after it are only getting longer. As far as side characters, it introduces Waldo Butters, a coroner who will help Harry out in later books with injuries as well as play a major role toward where I am in the books now.


and a bonus! (I didn't think I'd finish)
Deadly Class by Rick Remender and Wes Craig

"1st Period: Assassin Psychology. 2nd Period: Beheading. 3rd Period: Poison. Lunch"


Marcus is a kid on the street, alone and homeless after a fire destroys the boy's home he found himself when his parents were killed. He's picked up and asked to join King's Dominion Atelier of the Deadly Arts, a high school that trains kids to be the next batch of killers for their respective families, syndicates, crime lords, etc. He's taught how to kill in many different ways and forms. He meets new classmates, all with different backgrounds and reasons for attending.

So obviously I couldn't just binge read the entirety of the Dresden Files straight through. I picked up this volume back when Barnes and Nobles was still open, before the quarantine closed everything. Syfy picked up the rights and did a full season before cancelling it, which sucks because I liked the show. To be fair, though the premise is interesting (high school of killers), I don't think I would've picked this up without having watched the show first. I think I'm just too used to my comics drawn in the basic full color like I've been getting since I first picked up a Marvel comic. If you've watched the show, the book is slightly different but so far pretty similar and I feel like it's moving at a faster pace (this volume already got to Vegas and murdering Billy's dad). Eventually I'll pick up the rest of the series though, admittedly, comics are harder to read at work since I don't want to put them on the breakroom table (I've never seen that thing cleaned, and I'm not going to do it).

Necromancers at the Museum

My prizes secure, I moved toward my planned exit through the prehistoric exhibit. I just hoped I could get the last two hundred feet without running into anyone else, especially no one else like me. And of course, as soon as the thought crossed my mind I would cross paths with someone carrying the same intentions as me. The first thing that caught my eyes was the giant Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton in the middle of the room, white bones almost glowing in the dark. Immediately after, my eyes picked up the man in the black cloak standing in front of the skeleton.

"You here for the T-rex too?" he asked, gesturing with his staff (of course he would have a staff) at the giant skeleton behind him.

"Easy there, buddy," I said with my empty hands raised, "I already got what I came for. The dinosaur is all yours. I ain't into all that bestiality stuff." As I spoke, I tried to circle around him to the broken window behind him.

The cloaked man raised his staff, an ugly branch of wood just a couple inches shorter than him, gnarled on one end. "Sounds like you've grabbed something more valuable. Mind telling me and my friends what you've got?" Four glowing green eyes appeared in the darkness behind him. Large claws clinked on the tile floor, steadily getting louder. Two spectral sabertoothed tigers emerged, their prehistoric bones wrapped in glowing green ectoplasm. They walked rigidly straight-forward, finally settling on opposite sides of the necromancer. Both cats opened their mouths to bare their fangs and let out a low, rumbling growl.

"Nothing as impressive as that," I said, letting out a whistle, "though I am surprised you didn't try for the T-rex yourself."

"It'll take too much power, more than I've got right now." He motioned to the two cats at his feet. "But I'm sure I can do just as much with a pack of these, once I get my hands on more bones."

I started to move again to the window as he spoke. It took just two steps for the cats to notice me, their heads turning ever so slightly. "Well good luck to you then. I'm sure you don't want to be wasting time with me then, when you've got places to be. Especially before the police start beefing up security at more museums."

"You're right, but before I go I would like to see what a fellow necromancer like yourself picked up. Perhaps something I may want to acquire one day." The growl of the tigers got a little louder and I knew that there was no scenario that didn't end with one of us dead.

Slowly, I pulled open my coat to reveal a sheathed short gladius sword belted on my left and a black obsidian tecpatl dagger tucked into the right-side of my belt.

The necromancer's staff lowered and the ghostly eyes of the tigers dimmed slightly. "I'm sorry, are you just a thief, or perhaps some sort of junk collector?" he said with a smile that bordered on laughter.

I smiled back, releasing my coat but moving my right hand slowly behind my back. With my left I pointed at the two beasts. "You're holding them too tightly," I said as I gripped the hunting knife tucked behind my back.

He jerked his head back in confusion, his face contorting. "What the hell did you just say to me?" he said, slamming his staff and cracking the tile beneath it. The eyes of the two cats lit up again and the glow of their ectoplasm skin bathed the room in an eerie green.

And that gave me the one second I needed. I reached out mentally to the ancient weapons, connecting with them and the spirits of their former wielders. I drew their spirits into me, feeling them overlay onto my mine and filling my body with power. As I bolted forward I took notice of the ghostly green glow now coming off my skin, reflecting back at me off the tile floor.

No one knows if it's because the human spirit is actually stronger than an animal's spirit, or if necromancers are just able to draw more power from humans because we, too, are human. Either way, it's why most necromancers manipulate human spirits and bodies: the power we get from a human is just stronger than an animal. Plus the weapons I'd taken weren't just replicas. These were real tools of death used many times over and over by a single owner, thus attaching not only a sliver of each of its victim's souls to the weapon but also a shadow of their former owner. The dozens of human souls cut down by the gladius and the hundreds sacrificed by the tecpatl boosted my speed and strength to supernatural limits as I streaked forward, enough that I felt confident I could take down two sabertoothed tigers. That is definitely a point in my favor.

Except that the other guy was wielding the spirits of two fucking sabertoothed tigers! Age is another factor in the strength of a spirit and how much power a necromancer could draw upon: the older the spirit, the stronger the construct tends to be. And both of his were at least a million years old. Point to him.

Still, I sprinted forward, secure in my one last advantage: I wasn't afraid to kill. There's a little voice in all human beings that tell us taking another human life is wrong. It makes us slow and hesitant when faced with the choice or opportunity. It's why soldiers train so hard to make sure the actions they need to take are second-nature so that little voice doesn't have a chance to interrupt what needs to be done.

Looking into the other necromancer's eyes as I got closer, I could see the uncertainty on his face, the hesitation causing him to seize up. To be honest, I would have too. But I wasn't alone. Marcellus fought in battles and campaigns against a variety of enemies his entire military career. His training pushed my (our?) body forward, right passed the two ancient spectral cats and right up to the other man. The Aztec priest (even with him in my body, I couldn't pronounce his name correctly) sacrificed hundreds upon his alter in service to his gods. He'd seen death up close, and been the dealer of it every single time. We didn't hesitate. The knife plunged between the ribs and up into the heart of the other necromancer, all before his cats even gained their feet. With my shoulder, I shoved hard and drove him to the ground. I planted myself on top of him, then twisted the knife. He let out a scream and his will holding the cats together vanished, the bones clattering loudly on the floor.

"You were holding them too tightly," we said, our three voices amplified into a kind of disjointed chorus. "Too much control and they don't act like the predators they are. I could tell when I first saw them. What kind of cat walks so rigidly, and in a straight line? You had then moving more like a human would than a cat. If you loosened the reins a little, they would've reacted quicker and gotten me before I'd gotten you." We shrugged and pulled the knife out. "Oh well, something to remember when you join the great beyond." Then we slashed the knife across his throat.

"We should've used my sword. It would've been a more honorable death," said the soldier.

"We could've at least cut out his heart as an offering to our gods," said the priest.

I pushed their thoughts from my mind and their souls from my body back into their respective weapons. The power coursing through me faded as did the green glow my body had taken. "Your sword hasn't seen combat for centuries, I'm not sure if it's even sharp or even still usable. As for ripping out his heart, no offense to your gods and religion, but that's gross."

I wiped the blood on the necromancer's cloak before sheathing the knife behind my back. I picked up a fang from the cat skeletons and held it up to my face. Curiosity struck and I poured power into the fang. I felt the spirit of the sabertoothed tiger begin to envelop me. I dropped onto all fours. My sight might've diminished slightly, but my sense of smell and hearing revealed a whole new world to me. I felt myself let out a roar as my consciousness started to fade. I jerked my mind out, shoving the tiger spirit back into the fang and dropping it onto the floor. My heart raced even faster than it had been just moments ago facing off against the other necromancer. I focused on taking deep breaths, my eyes closed. Another minute and the spirit of the ancient cat would've consumed me. Slowly, I stooped over and picked up the fang, holding it between two fingers. The feeling though, all that strength and coiled power, the opening up of all my senses, it was exhilarating! I shook with excitement at the idea of trying it again once I had more power. I plucked the tooth from the other sabertoothed tiger, just in case that cat might feel a bit different.

Then I turned to look at the enormous Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton, shivering at the idea of all that strength and power and ferocity in my hands. I wanted it. Taking the dead necromancer's staff and throwing it like a javelin (thanks Marcellus) I knocked the head of the T-rex to the ground. I grabbed a tooth, and then took several more, just in case. Prizes secure, I climbed out the broken window and into the night. Now all I needed was more power to fully enjoy my new toys.

This story is a prime example of why I never finish anything. First off, got the prompt from Reddit Writing Promps: When necromancy turned out to be viable, the world rushed to defend its graveyards and cemeteries ... they forgot that museums are also full of dead bodies - and not just of humans." Of course, the main thing everyone would resurrect would be the T-Rex statue. Luckily, when I first found this prompt, I was just finishing up "Dead Beat" by Jim Butcher. A Dresden files novel, this one involves Wizard/Private Investigator Harry Dresden going up against necromancers, so obviously I got a lot of my ideas from that. But back to what I was saying earlier, in my original draft, the main character was looking for an ancient weapon when he encounters the other necromancer. In my original, the hunting knife has the spirit of a serial killer in it. Then I got to thinking, "Well how did he get into the museum?" and then he started battling zombies and ghosts summoned by two other necromancers before getting to the third one (because why wouldn't there be three?). Then I realized it was going off the rails and I was thinking too much about something that is essentially just for fun and practice. How I manage to get anything written is surprising to me too.

Civil War of the Hivemind

I took a seat in the back of the classroom. Steve slid into the seat next to mine just as the bell rang. 

"Right on time," he said with a smile as he pulled his headphones off and put them into his backpack. He pulled out a dark red pen he always seemed to have on him and began twirling it in his fingers.

I looked to the front of the classroom then back at Steve. "You're just lucky Ms. Johnson is still out with the flu or you'd be on your way to detention," I said. "If your on time, then you're late," I said in my best Ms. Johnson impersonation, which wasn't that good, while Steve mimed the way she spoke, waving his red pen in the air.

A middle-aged man in a gray suit walked through the door and got in front of the chalkboard. "Good morning class. I am Mr. Brant. As you might've guessed Ms. Johnson is out again today and I'll be your substitute teacher for this class." He turned to face the class, his name written in perfect script on the chalkboard, the letters lined up as if he used an invisible ruler.

I nudged Steve in the ribs. "Hey, do you think they go to a class for that?" I said, nodding to the board. He just looked back at me, confused. "His name? Our last sub had the same handwriting. Weird, right?"

Steve just shrugged. "I figure all teachers are probably taught to write the same, especially on a chalkboard. That's what they go to school for, right."

Mr. Brant continued. "You've probably also noticed a couple of your other teachers are also out sick. My guess is that perhaps something is going around so remember to wash your hands." He turned back to the chalkboard and wrote one word - WAR. "The lesson plan left to me shows that your class was learning about wars, though it doesn't mention which one you were on."

"Maybe you could just tell us what the worst war of all time was?" said Steve with a snicker, a stupid hazing-the-substitute question.

Mr. Brant looked at him quizzically for a couple seconds. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was hoping you would expand your question. Did you mean in terms of lives lost, in destruction to infrastructure and economy, or some other criteria to define 'worst'?" Before Steve could stammer out an "umm" or "ahh," Mr. Brant continued. "With as many dead in either World War One or World War Two, or the damage both wars did to economies, infrastructure, and the environment, in my opinion the worst, most destructive war of all time was the Riftian Hivemind Civil War of 3024."

"I'm sorry, did he just say 'hivemind'? Like The Borg or Formics" said Steve.

Without skipping a beat, Mr. Brant went on. "The Riftian Hivemind Civil War killed countless numbers throughout the galaxy, possibly even into other galaxies as we still do not know where the Riftians came from or how far they spread."

Ashley in the front of the class rose her hand. "Uh, Mr. Brant. Um, Riftians?" was all she could say.

"Ahh, right. Thank you for bringing that up, Ms. -" Mr. Brant took a peek at his notebook. "Ms. Alvarez." He looked at the rest of the class. "Sorry, I'd forgotten that you all might not be that far into the textbook as it is a fairly recent event. In Earth years, well, it probably just ended a couple years ago. But, right, Riftians." He gestured to the class with a piece of chalk. "Can anyone tell me what a Riftian is?"

"Dude, how is anyone supposed to know about some made-up alien," whispered Steve as we both snickered in the back of the classroom.

"Riftians are sentient nanite creatures that came into this universe through a rift in space, thus Riftians. Where they came from is a mystery. Some say from the other side of the universe, some claim from another dimension, an alternate reality. Either way, they arrived on Ortsokari first and began to spread themselves throughout the Ortsokarian population, much like as you mentioned earlier, Mr. Davis, The Borg." Surprisingly, Mr. Brant gestured toward Steve at the mention of The Borg which I didn't think he'd heard earlier. "Unfortunately, the Galactic Council hadn't reached Ortsokari until after the Rifitians made contact and so, for the longest time believed the Riftians were actually the sentient seven foot tall, red reptile bipeds that dominate Ortsokari."

"So, the Riftians were machines that would fuse with living animals?" said another student.

"Organic creatures," Mr. Brant quickly corrected, "Technically the intelligence which controls the Hive is alive."

"Dude, what the hell is this guy talking about?" Steve said, jabbing the pen into my ribs. "Is he having some kind of breakdown of something?"

"Shh, I'm listening to the story," I said.

"Why? It's not like the school can test us on some crazy subs made-up story."

"I don't care. At least I don't have to listen to some boring lecture."

Mr. Brant paused and a moment later a student walked in holding several slips of paper. He showed them to the substitute, speaking too softly for me to hear in the back of the classroom. Mr. Brant pointed to a couple students including Steve. "Sorry of the interruption. It appears that with whatever is going around, the school nurse would like to start screening students." The student gave the slips of paper to my classmates. If you selected students could go to the nurse's office for a quick check-up, then right back here before class ends."

Steve took the slip. "Looks like I'm going to miss the rest of the story. Let me know how it ends." He laughed as he got up and left with the other students.

As soon as the students left the classroom, I raised my hand. "Mr. Brant, what were the Riftians fighting over?"

The substitute teacher tilted his head, an initial look of confusion on his face. "Huh," was all he said, his concentration on the story broken. Maybe he really was making it all up on the spot.

"Why the civil war?" I repeated. "In America, we had a civil war over the issue of slavery. Other countries and civilizations have been thrown into civil wars over ideology or religion or who different groups believed the popular ruler should be. Why were the Riftians fighting amongst themselves?"

"Ah, that," Mr. Brant said, stumbling a little through his words. "A rogue thought had made its way into the hivemind and the current queen was working to eradicate it. In individuals the rogue thought had reached, the Queen ordered their immediate death. The Riftian typically complied and terminated its life as well as its host, usually through some form of suicide. Those the Rogue converted and were no longer connected to the Queen, the Queen ordered their death through the billions of Riftians that still served her."

"So to everyone else it just looked like a suicide or murder, but to the Riftians it was another piece the Queen couldn't convert back to her side being taken off the board and stopped from spreading the rogue thought?" I said softly to myself.

"Correct, Mr. Howard," said the substitute as he pointed to me. I didn't even know I'd spoken that loudly. "The civil war stretched across the galaxy, out to remote space stations and satellite colonies, involving dozens of sentient races."

I raised my hand again. "Does that mean the Riftians are still out there, taking over other species? Did they ever make it to Earth? Who won the war?"

"All valid questions," said Mr. Brant just as the bell rang. "But unfortunately we're out of time. Maybe next class. I can't hold you here and make you late for your next period, after all."

As the bell continued to ring, Steve and the other students walked back in. "So, what did I miss," Steve asked as he picked up his bag.

"Nothing much. Hostile aliens from across dimensions fighting each other within other species' bodies. Though he never mentioned why they were fighting."

"Freedom. The Rogue experienced a symbiosis with a species it assimilated and wished to spread that to the rest of the hive," said Steve nonchalantly.

"Huh," I said, turning to him. "Mr. Brant didn't mention that part. Did you both watch this on some tv show or something?"

"Uhh, yeah, tv show." Steve walked away to the front of the classroom. I stood up to pack my books and papers, and from the corner of my eye, watched Steve write something on a slip of paper and pass it to Mr. Brant before he walked out of the classroom.

As I picked up my bag to go, Mr. Brant called me to the front of the room. "Seems like the nurse wants to see you next," he said, passing me a slip of paper.

"Sure," I said taking the paper without looking at it. "Also, could you just spoil it and let me know who won? I don't have time to find this show and watch it all the way through, especially with finals coming up."

"Oh, we did of course," Mr. Brant quickly responded before adding, "I think you should be off to the nurse's office."

I turned to leave. As I got to the door, I took a look at the note to see Steve's name written in black on it in perfect script. How does everyone write like that. Before I could turn back, I'd flipped over the paper to find my name in written in the same style though in dark red ink.

Finally getting back into it, I decided to first finish up a story I'd started about a month ago. I got it off of Reddit Writing Prompts, something about the "Riftian Hivemind Civil War." It wasn't going well so I'd stopped working on it for a while. About a week or two ago I had the idea to switch the point of view from either the substitute teacher or a generic, camera-like third person observer to a student and I think it went a lot better than it was going. Also, if you're wondering, I did get the idea for the civil war from Animorphs. If you don't know, Animorphs involved a secret alien invasion of slug-like creatures that could control people by entering into their host's skulls. There was one book where the Animorphs (teenagers fighting against the aliens) were transported to another planet and they meet another race of slugs that do the same thing, but they live symbiotically with their hosts. I don't see myself pursing this story any further and, actually I was just happy to get it finished.