DAVID CONYERS / science fiction author

Two Illustrations - Jupiter and The Eye of Infinity

Fri, 11 May 2012 23:15:00 +0000

The latest issue of Jupiter, 36 Spond is out with my cyborg illustration on the cover. This was a character in a space opera novel I wrote a draft for some 20 years ago, which I plan to get back to one day in a completely new structure. Issue 36 is edited by Ian Redman and features new stories from Michael Sutherland, Greg McColm, Alexander Hay, Neal Clift and Dean Giles.

The other illustration is by the talented Nick Gucker, of a shoggoth infected human adapted from my novella The Eye of Infinity. Nick's illustration has been immortalised on a t-shirt produced by Scurvy Ink, entitled "Shoggoth Evolution", and is very cool indeed.

On related news, rumours have hit the Internet that The Eye of Infinity could soon be available in e-pubishing formats.

"The Masked Messenger" makes Ellen Datlow's Honourable Mention List

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 12:55:00 +0000

It may not be big news but its still good news, to make an international Honourable Mention in a Year's Best Anthology, in this case Ellen Datlow's Best Horror of the Year Volume 4.

The story in question was a collaboration with the very talented John Goodrich, "The Masked Messenger" appearing in Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine #52 edited by the equally talented David Kernot. The tale features another adventure of my ongoing character, Harrison Peel and is set in the Cthulhu Mythos cycle of stories

Here is a sample of the tale:

The Masked Messenger

David Conyers & John Goodrich

Harrison Peel counted the dead as more covered corpses rolled into the Marrakech morgue. They weren’t really humans, rather the dissected remains of their flesh, bloody in leaking body bags. The sharp, coppery smell of blood filled the room, reminding Peel of an abattoir.

Lounging next to Peel was Fabien Chemal, a spook with Morocco’s DST intelligence agency. Chemal mumbled something in Arabic about being inconvenienced by the gory spectacle. While he watched junior spooks and morgue attendants catalogue the grim remains, he offered Peel a cigarette. Peel refused, wishing instead for a good strong coffee.

“How many dead?” Peel wiped his sweaty hands on cotton pants. It should have been cold in this place. That’s how they would have done it back in the NSA. Cold to keep the body parts preserved for proper forensic analysis.

Chemal shrugged, lit his cigarette. “We don’t know yet. At least eighteen dead: five Americans, two Germans, one Spaniard. The rest were my people, but I guess your people won’t care about that.”

“I care.” Peel said as he stood. The smell of death and smoke felt constricting from his seat in a corner. “The NSA care, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Chemal raised an eyebrow. “I get the impression, Mr. Peel, that you were a little eager to come in person, rather than send a subordinate?”

Peel didn’t know precisely what Chemal’s rank was in the murky hierarchy of the Direction de la Surveillance du Territoire. He did know that any time he didn’t spend with Chemal he would spend being tailed. They were controlling him, and this would make his job here more difficult than it needed to be.

The morgue was in the basement of Marrakech DST offices. At least one more level existed beneath their feet, reserved for DST’s prisoners and interrogation cells. In this building, the dead warranted more respect than detainees.

“Some personal reason perhaps, Mr. Peel?”

Peel ignored Chemal’s question. The Moroccan’s tone sounded too inquisitive, as if Peel were under interrogation. “You said you don’t know how many died in the blast? How’s that? And secondly I’m not sure it really was a blast. To me the bodies look like they’ve been sliced to pieces. Thousands of pieces?”

“They were ... They still will be?”

Peel’s stomach felt empty. He was confused, but then everything about yesterday’s terrorist bombing in Jemaa el-Fna square lacked any resemblance to sense. The blast had been invisible, soundless. People were shredded where they stood in the Marrakech market. Yet their clothes, wallets, purses, souvenirs and the pavement beneath them remained untouched. It was as if invisible demons had mutilated their victims with razor sharp teeth and claws.

“Do you know that some of the victims died before the blast occurred, hours, even days before?”

“I don’t understand?”

Chemal shrugged. “Neither do we ... really.” His burned-down cigarette hung precariously from his lip as he reached for another. Perhaps his need to smoke was only a need not to smell death. “Of the eighteen dead, two were market vendors who would have been in the square at the time of the blast, had they not been shredded three days earlier. The German pair were found in their homes two mornings ago in the same mutilated state.”

"The Swelling" in Innsmouth Magazine Collection Issues 1-4

Fri, 13 Apr 2012 11:40:00 +0000

My latest release is a reprint, of my one and only King in Yellow tale, "The Swelling", released in Innsmouth Magazine: Collected Issues 1-4 from Innsmouth Free Press and edited by Paula R. Stiles and Silvia Moreno-Garcia.

This e-book collects the first four issues of Innsmouth Magazine. Journey to Innsmouth, work at the office and the job from hell, find evil at sea, listen to the lament of the black goat, and most of all experience the horrific, weird and fantastic.

Stories by Nick Mamatas, Ann K. Schwader, Orrin Grey, David Conyers, Charles R. Saunders, Nadia Bulkin, and many others.

Read the story here.

The House of R'lyeh Announced

Mon, 02 Apr 2012 20:55:00 +0000

Chaosium have just announced their next book, which I co-edited with Glyn White and contributed one and a half gaming scenarios. Out in Winter 2012 (or Summer 2012 if you live on the opposite side of the world to me).

HOUSE OF R'LYEH

Five Scenarios Based on H.P. Lovecraft Tales

Cover Art by Scott Purdy

The House of R’lyeh contains five scenarios that closely follow the events of H.P. Lovecraft stories. They are set in Boston, Providence, the British Isles, continental Europe and the Middle East. None of the scenarios need to be played at set dates or in a set order, but they could be run in the order presented to form a loose campaign using optional links between scenarios to draw investigators from one to the other.

Alternatively, the scenarios may be used to supplement classic Call of Cthulhu campaigns such as The Shadows of Yog-Sothoth and The Fungi from Yuggoth, the latter currently in print as The Day of the Beast, both of which suggest their component scenarios should be interspersed with others.

The first scenario in this book, “The Art of Madness” (Brian Courtemanche) follows on from the events of the Lovecraft tale “Pickman’s Model”. Artist of the macabre, Richard Upton Pickman, is now a ghoul living a subterranean netherworld beneath Boston creating a new school of art. There are several ways that player characters might be drawn into investigating his macabre activities and, while dangerous, Pickman’s intent is not particularly lethal. The difficulty for investigators will be to resolve the situation without becoming compromised.

While in New England, the investigators discover “The Crystal of Chaos” (Peter Gilham with David Conyers), a retelling of the events of Lovecraft’s “The Haunter of the Dark”. Hired by professors of Miskatonic University, the investigator seek out a fabled crystal with origins in Ancient Egypt, but they soon find a far greater evil lurks in an abandoned church in Providence. This scenario originally appeared in Different Worlds issue 34, May/June 1984, and has been expanded and revised in this publication.

“The Return of the Hound” (Glyn White) draws investigators an auction in Yorkshire, in England, where a rare edition of the Necronomicon is going to be sold. The previous owners, the decadent occultists from Lovecraft’s “The Hound”, are dead, as that tale recounts, but what they unearthed in ‘a Holland churchyard’ has grown strong, and has schemes of its own to fulfill. The amount of danger the investigators face is dependent on how determined they are not to let this Necronomicon fall into the wrong hands.

“The Jermyn Horror” (David Conyers) takes place in Britain, beginning in London and then moving to Huntingdon with the investigators seeking a rare edition of Regnum Congo, reputedly to be found in the crumbling estate of the deceased Jermyn family as described in Lovecraft’s “Arthur Jermyn”. The search is imperiled by a creature that a Jermyn brought back from the Congo some three hundred years ago that haunts the mansion seeking a human vessel for its escape.

“Nameless City, Nameless Terrors” (Brian M. Sammons) concludes this collection with an expedition into the heart of Arabia’s Empty Quarter in search of Irem as described in Lovecraft’s “The Nameless City”. This scenario requires investigators to risk their bodies and their minds as, in the midst of the desolate ruins of Irem, the investigators learn something of the nature of the Great Old Ones, and perhaps forestall the rising of Cthulhu from his watery grave.

"Expectant Green:" reviewed on SF Crowsnest

Sat, 31 Mar 2012 21:25:00 +0000

Rod MacDonald over at SF Crowsnest gave my latest short story publication, "Expectant Green", a rather cool review:

The opening piece, ‘Expectant Green’ by David Conyers and John Kenny, was very well written. The attention of the reader was hooked by the first couple of paragraphs and from then on it was compelling stuff right through to the end of this adventure story. Francesca's youthful spirit had been deflated because her mother's death had forced her to leave home on Mars to join her father on the planet Morrocoy. Not only was this a rather steamy hot world, uncomfortable even on a mild day, the religiously imposed restrictions on technology meant that there wasn't much in the way of entertainment.

Her father was absent-minded but focused on alien anthropology. Convinced that there was a form of insect life on the planet, his efforts to find it had been squashed over the years by all manner of setbacks. With his goal in sight, Francesca was being dragged into the jungle. Unfortunately, there seemed to be plenty of shady characters on Morrocoy and, as luck would have it, they became involved in the search. Atmospheric and engaging, this well told story is a delight to read.

Edited and published by Ian Redman, issue 35 of Jupiter can be purchased here and here on Kindle, or here in print format.

2012 Ditmar Awards

Sat, 24 Mar 2012 10:55:00 +0000

It is award season again, and the Aurealis Awards finalists announced and the Australian Shadows not far behind. Ditmar's too, the Australian speculative fiction most popular awards a ramping up, with anyone 'active' in the industry able to vote, regardless of whether you are from this country or not.

If you want to vote for me, great, and here is how. I'm eligible in the following categories and I've noted which stories I think have been my favorites and from what I can accertain the most popular of my work for this year:

Best Novella or Novellette, The Eye of Infinity, Perilous Press
Best Short Story, "The Advertising Imperative", Ticon4 (read the story here)
Best Collected Work, Midnight Echo 6, ed. David Conyers, David Kernot and Jason Fischer.
Best Fan Writer, Interview with Charles Stross, Midnight Echo 6
Best Fan Artist, Cover, Jupiter 33. (image included above)

To vote simply go to this form and fill it in. If I'm known to you, please use me as a referee for eligibility, espeically if you are not Australian. If you want to vote for more than just me, and there are plenty of good outpourings this year, go to the full list here.

If you do vote for me to win a Ditmar, thank you very much.

Entries close Friday 13 April 2012, or Thursdayt 12 April 2012 if you live anywhere between Europe and the Americas.

Prometheus

Mon, 19 Mar 2012 11:25:00 +0000

Prometheus, it's Ridley Scott doing science fiction, so I'm excited about this movie. There aren't many good sci-fi films, the last one was Inception. Hopefully this one is just as good, but going by the trailer, and Scott's classic sci-fi movies Alien and Bladerunner, this one has lots of promise. View the latest trailer here.

Undead & Unbound Cover Art by Paul Mudie

Tue, 21 Feb 2012 13:10:00 +0000

Here is the cover art for the anthology Undead & Unbound by the very talented UK artist Paul Mudie.

The anthology, edited by Brian M. Sammons and myself shall be released by Chaosium Inc. later this year. The illustration features elements from the included stories "I Am Legion", "Thunder in Old Kilpatrick", "Descanse En Paz", "Mother Blood" and "In the House of a Million Years".

Eldritch Chrome featuring "Playgrounds of Angolaland"

Mon, 20 Feb 2012 10:35:00 +0000

Every now and then editors come up with fantastic ideas for anthologies that resonate with the tones of ‘why hasn’t someone done this before’, so when Brian M Sammons and Glynn Barrass came up with the idea for a cross-genre of Cyberpunk and Cthulhu Mythos stories, Eldritch Chrome, I had to submit something. Thankfully my story, “Playgrounds of Angolaland” was accepted. Set in Antarctica, my tale involves a cyberteam out to scam a corporation that has made one too many unwholesome deals with elder alien beings. Oh, and it is kind of a Harrison Peel tale.

Here is the table of contents, in no particular order:

Eldritch Chrome

“Of Fractals, Fantomes, Frederic and Filrodj” by John Shirley
“Obsolete, Absolute” by Robert M. Price
“The Place that Cannot Be” by D.L. Snell
“The Battle of Arkham” by Peter Rawlik
“The Wurms in the Grid” by Nickolas Cook
“SymbiOS” by William Meikle
“Playgrounds of Angolaland” by David Conyers
“Sonar City” by Sam Stone
“The Blowfly Manifesto” by Tim Curran
“Flesh and Scales” by Ran Cartwright
“Inlibration” by Michael Tice
“Hope Abandoned” by Tom Lynch
“Immune” by Terrie Leigh Relf
“Real Gone” by David Dunwoody
“CL3ANS3” by Carrie Cuinn
“Dreams of Death” by Lois Gresh
"The Gauntlet” by Glynn Barrass and Brian M. Sammons
“Indifference” by CJ Henderson
“Open Minded” by Jeffrey Thomas

To be published by Chaosium some time in 2012. More details as they occur.

"Expectant Green" with John Kenny in Jupiter 35

Thu, 09 Feb 2012 12:05:00 +0000

"Expectant Green", my first collaboration with Irish speculative fiction author and editor, John Kenny, is now available in Jupiter 35, edited by Ian Redman with a terrific cover from Sam Mardon. My first publication for 2012 and its my favorite genre, space opera, and out in print and epub formats. An extract follows:

EXPECTANT GREEN

David Conyers and John Kenny

One hundred days disappeared in a single second while I was dead, or as near dead as you could get without crossing over to that unknown country.

I was in cryosuspension along with twelve-hundred other passengers, encased in the hull of a wormhole transgressor bound for Morrocoy in the Sagan-89 System. Morrocoy was the last place in the galaxy I wanted to be, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

With that curious sense of dislocation engendered by cryosleep, I opened my eyes and felt, despite an unchanged view of diamond glass and life support readouts, that I was somewhere else.

A familiar face approached; all smiles and warmth. “Mum!” I cried before I crawled into her arms, held her tight and sobbed.

Another woman spoke to me. Her tone sounded cautious. “I’m sorry Ms. Leyton, but I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” When I didn’t move, afraid to, the stranger said: “I’m Nereda Courtemanche, your CS recovery nurse.”

I looked up, saw that the woman who held me was no more than a few years my senior. She had a pretty face like my mother, but with freckles and red instead of dark hair worn in a ponytail.

“Oh, I am so sorry.”

I quickly clambered from of her arms. I couldn’t look at her. I felt like I was about to die.

“This is so embarrassing. I’m so sorry.”

I tried to run, but tripped on wobbly legs.

The nurse caught me. “That’s okay, Francesca.” She supported me gently, sat me down. “Just give yourself a minute. Waking from CS is disorientating for anyone. I felt the same three days ago when I woke.”

I glimpsed at Nereda through the corner of my eye. At least I had not imagined her smile, which still beamed for me.

“Let me find where your mother is, and I’ll reunite you.”

“She’s not here,” I blurted.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” Nereda clasped her hands together tightly. “You must really miss her?”

I didn’t respond. I should have said something to make her feel better, even if I couldn’t feel that way myself.

She scratched the back of her head, her eyes wandered, searched for something other than me to focus on. “Well, you’ve arrived Francesca Leyton. Morrocoy is where you leave us, right?”

I nodded.

“Is someone waiting to meet you?”

“I hope...yes, someone will...meet me.”

“Well that’s good. Good luck down there.”

Nereda gave me three cups of water, helped me to dress, then left me with one of the ship AI’s extensor bots which made me perform a regime of stretching exercises. By the time I was done I no longer felt disorientated and was ready to tell Nereda the real reason why my mother wasn’t with me, but she was long gone.

With remarkable swiftness, given that the transgressor had travelled so many light years across the galaxy for so long, I was processed through customs and security where, despite my protests all my tech items where confiscated from my luggage, and shuttled to the planet’s only spaceport. No one else smiled at me, and all I could feel as the blue-green planet grew large through the view portals was empty and cold.

An hour later I was blinking in the bright sunlight, standing in the hot, dusty street watching a motley crew of locals shamble along, dragging pack animals behind them.

I thought about what I had wanted to say to the Nereda, but I couldn’t quiet believe what had happened myself. Only three weeks ago subjective time I had been standing over the destroyed body of my mother. The distance I had travelled and the stark contrasts between Mars and this alien planet conspired to place the death of my mother at a remove that seemed almost a lifetime ago. And yet the loss of her was so recent that the reality of her absence had not sunk in; I felt nothing, couldn’t feel anything. Being thrust into this new and foreign environment promised only to extend the duration of my numbness.

Sweeping my shoulder length hair back and into a scrunchy, I fished a beaked cap from my travel bag to shade my eyes. Now I could better see the dilapidated sun-scorched wooden buildings that lined the unpaved street that stretched east and west for a couple of hundred metres before meeting walls of dense jungle foliage. Along this stretch a number of streets branched off to the north towards the main part of the town.

No sign of my father. Wearily, I unfolded the piece of paper handed to me by the porter as I had exited the building behind me. Oh, great. It gave the name of the hotel where I could find my one surviving parent and directions on how to get there. Heaving a sigh of tiredness and frustration, I hitched my travel bag on my shoulder and marched towards the first turnoff heading north.

If I’d told Nereda what had really happened to my mother I would have cried for a very long time. I couldn’t help wondering if I would have felt better now if I had.