Then I look at last night's post and see that, no, actually I've written 28,711. So if anything, I'm 3,706 words ahead.
I have no idea how I miscounted so drastically, but boy did that suddenly take some pressure off. Unless, of course, I've overcounted somewhere and I'm still actually behind. >_<;;
Anyway, a short Androfic.
For 15minuteficlets' Challenge #17. Actual word not shown here so as not to spoil it for other FMF writers.
Fandom: Star Control (pre-SC1)
Character: Nick, Dean
Word Count: 503
Notes: Eleventh month of 2111, Eta Vulpeculae 2. Sometime after "Peace Day."
To be archived at Androsynth Series.
Disclaimer: The Star Control universe and concept of the Androsynth are property of Toys for Bob. The Androsynth society, all characters in my Androsynth fics and all extrapolation of those ideas are mine.
"So what exactly are we needing humans for?" Nick asked. "It's not like we don't come from human stock. We've just got more copies of certain sequences, right?"
"Uh..." Dean stopped threading bait onto his fishhook and squinted out across the water. "Well, the problem is, whatever they did to us, they removed the sequences that allow our bodies to make gametes. That's as I understand it. I was never on the reproductive research team, but if I understood Dina correctly, that's the problem we have."
Nick cast his own line. "So why can't you create the sequences necessary?"
"Because, well, we can't. We don't have the technology to do that. I'm not sure why." Dean finished baiting the hook and then cast his line, which fell short of Nick's. "I'll ask Dina if you'd like. I'm sure there's some reason why, or else we'd've done it by now."
Nick grunted agreement and a companionable silence followed. Then: "Are there any sequences we'll want to remove?"
"I doubt it," Dean said. He wasn't sure if his line had a nibble or if he was imagining it. Bluespine – local fish – were notoriously finicky. Hence "fishing for bluespine" usually meant wasting one's time. "We don't want to get too careless and end up with something worse. The lines we have are known and stable; I'd be afraid to mess around too much. Back on Earth they had lots of time, money and parts to work with; we have the time, and technically the resources in terms of labor, but we probably won't have enough parts."
"Unless the Hierarchy lets us have a whole lot of humans to work with," Nick yawned. "And that's very unlikely."
"I don't want to enslave humans for scientific research."
"Dean, we were enslaved for scientific research. Turnabout, and all that. Besides, I meant more that the Hierarchy isn't likely to allow us to do it. If we fight alongside the Earthlings, we'd have to get them to cooperate for research, and I don't think they'll agree to that. If Earth decides to hide instead, we probably can't touch them then either. It strongly looks like a no-win situation if we try to go through Hierarchy channels."
"That doesn't leave many options," Dean said at length. Definitely a nibble. Maybe. He yanked on the line and started reeling it in.
"Well, we could try to capture any, just like we'd originally planned," Nick said. He sat up as something gave his line several strong tugs. "Ah, got one."
"I'd like to know how you keep getting fish," Dean said with a frown. "We're using the exact same bait and I've caught nothing."
"Aaaaand I've caught eight," Nick grinned, pulling up a half-meter bluespine. Once you got past the fang-filled mouth and the electric blue spines running down its back, the rest of the fish was edible and vaguely flavored like anise. "Once again I provide enough dinner that you have to do the washing-up."
Dean rolled his eyes. He hated washing-up.