Storytime: Calvin and the black (cat) market

Start your story with a character being led somewhere by a black cat.

prompt courtesy of Reedsy

The reflection of the hallways artificial lighting, normally cast upon the pristine finished steel flooring and walls leading to the Admiral’s office, was eerily disrupted by the black cat that Calvin was following to the teleporter room nearby. It padded along silently, a bizarre sheen flitting across its fur every time they passed a light, combined with the near void-like coloring, made it seem like he was following a shimmering hole in space with a tail casually whipping back and forth. Only moments before, Calvin had asked Admiral Slodpolk what the assignment was, but all the crazy old man said was “Follow the cat and bring back it’s goods.”

They arrived in front of the teleporter room, and the cat, now facing Calvin, looked up at him expectantly with brilliant emerald eyes that almost seemed to float in nothingness. Calvin sighed but opened the door. He followed the cat into the room and instructed the computer to beam them down to the planet’s surface. The cat leaped up on Calvin’s shoulder and let out an aggressive, but not angry, meow that caused Calvin to jump back from the console. The void-like cat, now perched on his shoulder, dug in it’s claws to help maintain balance, and then meowed again, this time a little more politely, and the computer lit up with new coordinates that appeared to be a mile below the planets surface. Calvin was wincing in pain for a second before his jaw dropped. The cat gave a slight purr and gently bumped the side of Calvin’s head before jumping off his shoulder to pad over to the teleporter platform. Calvin instinctively rubbed his shoulder where the claws no doubt left some marks in his skin beneath his uniform, all while staring at the computer console.

Another meow caught his attention and caused Calvin to sputter a moment as he realized the computer was waiting for a second entity to join the cat on the platform. He walked over but stopped short of stepping on the platform, looking down at the cat that was watching him. He could have sworn it was smiling at him for some reason. It meowed aggressively again, and Calvin took that as indication he should probably stop hesitating and just get on with it.

The platform lit up as Calvin got in position. He opened his mouth and was about to address the teleporter console when, in a sort of pleasant chirping sound, the cat apparently issued the command to begin transmission. In an instant they were in a dimly lit cave deep beneath the planets surface. Calvin blinked his eyes several times, trying to adjust to flicker torches that lined the walls, and stifled a coughing fit from the dust he was waving out of his face. This cat is sophisticated enough to somehow communicate with our technology, and yet they’re using fire to light up a cave? Calvin thought to himself.

The cat nuzzled against his leg to get his attention before it walked over to a spot in a nearby wall between two torches. Calvin followed along, still confused as to the circumstance he was in by following this cat that almost blended into the very shadows of the cave. It scratched a few times at the wall, and then waited. Calvin picked at his collar, the heat of the cave now apparent to him in his stifling pseudo-military uniform that the Admiral made all crew members wear aboard his ship, was starting to make him sweat. He started fidgeting and looking around at the shifting shadows caused by the torches and realized they were in a very long tunnel. A few moments passed, and an almost child-like voice spoke up from somewhere near his feet. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you back to your ship and it’s precious climate control in a few minutes.” Calvin stumbled back and looked around for where the voice came from. “Holy shit! Who’s there?!”

“Calm down, calm down, it’s just me.” The void-like cat had started speaking, and Calvin started to fan himself in the heat.

“I must be hallucinating. This is probably another of the Admiral’s prank like tests.” Calvin thought he was losing it.

“No you dummy, I’m just forbidden to speak in other languages when off-planet. Our kind have a reputation to uphold.” The cat spoke again, and then before Calvin could ask it anything the cave wall began to shake and slide back. A seemingly normal light source, relative to Calvin’s usual situation aboard The Last Opportunity, issued from a slit in the wall. As the wall continued to slide open with a grinding sound, the cat slid through as soon as there was room. A rush of cooler air escaped and washed over Calvin, his shoulders sagged a little with the relief it brought. He hurried to get himself inside, determined to be in a more comfortable and air-conditioned area. As soon as Calvin was in, the opening began to close behind him, and he realized he was in a much more sophisticated space that was all white. The cat would have stood out in this space but was nowhere to be seen, and Calvin slowly walked through, looking around at tables, chairs, desks, and large, clear plastic cases. It dawned on him that he was in a lab of some sort. The cat leaped up on a desk at the far end of the lab-like space, Calvin finally seeing the hundreds of stations lined up from one end to the other. It took him a minute to cross, but he could hear the cat scratching at something on the desk, the sound of its claws scraping across the surface echoing through the lab.

When Calvin finally stood over the cat on the desk it stopped clawing at a small case and looked up at him. “Here.” is all it said. A button was blinking on the case while a strange cross-hatched pattern faded on a pad next to it. Calvin, more than a little perplexed, slowly reached out to press the button. The cat jumped off the desk and casually padded off to somewhere else in the lab, calling back to Calvin as it went “Tell your Admiral thank you for the food.” The case opened with a pressurized hiss, and some sort of white smoke wafted out with a fresh scent. Calvin waved it away and reached inside to pull out the Admiral’s hat. “Hey wait a second….” was the last thing Calvin got out before he was unceremoniously beamed back up to the ship, where the Admiral was waiting for him in the teleporter room. The Admiral snatched the hat out of Calvin’s hands and popped it onto his hands. “Ah, much better! Those cats are great at dry-cleaning hats.”

Calvin sputtered, still standing on the teleporter platform, and watched as the Admiral strutted out of the room. “You mean we smuggled all that food for cats?”

My NYC Midnight Round 1 Short Story

Tuesday of last week I talked about how I had participated in a writing contest. I’ll briefly recap some context for those of you who want to dig right in.

NYC Midnight ran their annual Short Story Challenge. There are four rounds (as I write this the challenge is still ongoing, with entrants having moved on to Round 2) and each round would get progressively more difficult by reducing both time to submit and maximum word count for those select few participants that passed. Participants were grouped up and each group received a prompt consisting of three things that must be included in their submission. For Round 1 we were limited to 2,500 words and seven days to submit our completed stories.

I was in group 117 and our prompt included these:

  • Genre: Sci-Fi
  • Topic: Comparison shopping
  • Character: an intern

Our short stories were to feel like they belonged in the assigned genre, and largely be focused on the topic and character.

Regardless of whether or not we moved on to the next round, each participant would receive feedback from the judges. I’ll include those pieces at the bottom after the story itself.

Now, for my submission! First is the text I included in my cover page, followed by the story exactly as I had submitted it without any corrections.

The Smugglers Intern

A university student seeking an internship finds his last chance is with a retired military veteran turned interstellar smuggler.

The distinct clicking sounds of shoes on metal could be heard echoing down the long metal corridor of the decommissioned battleship’s lower levels. Admiral Slodpolk, trailed by his assistant Therese, approached a small reception area with what appeared to be a very old, and very much out of place and time, wooden double door. A sign outside the door read “Internship Interviews”, and across from the ancient looking door was a small group of people in various attire. They had been lined up against the wall waiting for the approaching pair as they had been instructed to do by their invitations. The furthest one from the strange doors but closest to the Admiral, a nice young man named Calvin, had spotted them first. He checked himself over quick, adjusted his tie, and straightened up. He was the last applicant to arrive and he had been feeling a little in over his head when he realized he may have overdressed in a neat grey business suit. Two people next to him, dressed in business casual attire, had been chatting loudly with the other two people dressed in military fatigues, and didn’t notice when the Admiral reached them. 

The Admiral cleared his throat loudly and made them jump to attention. A unique gift that worked even on civilians. He had developed it his decades of service to the Sol Interstellar Military.

“I appreciate everyone’s prompt attendance today for my request. Momentarily I will have Therese here call you in one at a time for your interview.” The Admiral spoke briefly, then did an about face move and entered the antique double doors that were fitted into the metal wall of the spaceship. Everyone stared after him trying to peek into the strange room without moving, but Therese had carefully placed herself in the way. 

An almost stifling silence filled the odd reception area after the door had clicked shut and Therese waited a few moments while observing the lineup. They began to fidget and shift uncomfortably as they eyed the strange doors. The chatter began again, with all but Calvin speculating loudly about what they were going to see inside. They seemed to have forgotten Therese was there. She cleared her throat, not quite as forcefully as the Admiral but just enough to illicit roughly the same reaction. 

“Yes. Let’s get this started then.” Five sets of eyes snapped their attention to her. “Each of you is here, for reasons of your own, to join the crew of The Last Opportunity, however only one of you will be selected to be the Admirals new intern. As stated, you will enter one at a time, based on order of application.”  Therese held up her datapad showing the list of applicant profiles.

“There is no definitive length to your interviews, so that will not be indicative of how well anyone does. We appreciate your patience and understanding in the event someone takes longer.” She said while staring down the talkative ones.

Therese then knocked on the wooden doors. One began to open slightly, but an odd lack of light from inside made Calvin nervous. The others didn’t seem to notice.

The first two applicants didn’t take long in their interviews, but Calvin and the other two thought it strange that the first person hadn’t left through the doors again before the second person entered. Several hours passed, and one by one they entered the dark room beyond the strange wooden doors without leaving. Finally, Therese gestured silently for Calvin to enter. He had been uncertain about applying in the first place, but it was his last chance to land an internship before he graduated university. Now he was regretting it.

He gulped a little, checked himself over one last time and walked to the doors. He stopped at the threshold. Therese stopped scrolling through information on her datapad and looked up at the trembling young man. “You’re going to do just fine in there Calvin.” She offered a rather emotionless word of encouragement. He was too nervous to make note of the emptiness in her voice. Trembling a little bit, he took a deep breath and walked into the darkness beyond the doors.

A moment later Calvin was standing in what could only be described as a desert bazaar. He covered his eyes against the bright sunlight streaming through buildings and canopies of shop stalls. A firm hand clasped his shoulder causing the already shaken Calvin to jump. The hand didn’t move, and as Calvin’s eyes adjusted he saw the Admiral standing next to him. “Ah, finally, last applicant. Very good. Let’s begin your interview!” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Calvin sputtered. He was still stunned by the sudden change in environment, combined with his already shaky nerves, and had momentarily forgotten what he was doing there to begin with. He saw the Admiral was smiling and carefully watching Calvin’s expression, waiting for realization to wash over the young man. “Yes, of course. My interview. What, um… what would you like to know first?” Calvin tried to start the interview the same way he had so many times before in the last few months. The Admiral chuckled and gestured for Calvin to follow him as he began walking the sandy streets of the bazaar. 

“What I’d like to know first? Do you see those two stalls over there behind that dry fountain?” He asked Calvin, who confusedly looked where the Admiral was pointing.

“Um, okay. Yes, I see them, what… what about them, Sir?” He replied.

“They are selling the same thing, are they not?” The Admiral asked, his demeanor pulling Calvin along closer to the stalls. They were filled with fruits of different kinds, both alien and familiar. 

“Yes, they do appear to be selling the same kinds of fruits. I see apples, oranges…” Calvin tried to answer, unsure what the Admiral’s point was in asking such a question, but was glad when he was cut off. 

“Alright, good, you pass that test. Moving along. These next two stalls, same question.” The Admiral didn’t waste any time moving through the bazaar, two stalls at a time, asking Calvin to examine their wares each time. 

Calvin’s nerves had settle down, and in fact he grew more bored each time the Admiral asked the same question. They made a full lap through the stalls and were standing in front of the fruit vendors when Calvin decided to challenge the Admiral’s motives. “I’m sorry, sir, but is there a point to this? I thought this was supposed to be an interview?” 

The Admiral stopped and, for the first time since the interview began, turned to properly face Calvin. He was smiling again. “Humor me, if you would. Let’s look again.” He gestured at the fruit stalls. Calvin looked again, seeing the fruits with prices on signboards. Having finally calmed down he was able to see details he missed on the first pass. Bruising and wilting. He looked up at the price boards and began comparing the stalls. Calvin caught a glimpse of something in the next stall over that made him turn around and properly look at the rest of the bazaar. The prices of the closest stalls he could see were different from the first pass. His jaw dropped a little as he was about to ask the Admiral what was going on, but thought better of it for the moment. Calvin returned to examining the fruit stalls. The Admiral watched the gears turn in Calvin’s head, and his smile broadened a little.

A couple hours had passed by in the blink of an eye. Calvin had walked the whole bazaar, examining and comparing the contents of each pair of stalls while asking the clearly holographic merchants questions about their products. Where they sourced everything, how it was transported, age, material. When the Admiral was satisfied, he clapped his hands twice. The holographic images collapsed and vanished before Calvin’s eyes as he was asking another question of the merchant at a mechanical junk stall.

“You really found your stride there young man. I commend you on your observation skills!” The Admiral walked to sit behind an antique wooden desk in front of a large window that looked down on a blue and yellow planet. He gestured at the chair in front of the desk for Calvin.

“I understand that it was a strange interview, but I like you Calvin. Once you figured out what was going on you dove in to the simulation and really showed off that you could spot the small differences in so many different things. The rest of the applicants spotted the differences in the fruits on the second or third pass.” Admiral Slodpolk shook his head disappointedly.

“I listened to them chatting outside the doors before the interviews began. They all seemed so competent and confident. What was it they did wrong?” Calvin couldn’t help but ask, wondering what exactly it was that he may have done differently.

The smile returned to the Admirals face. “You, Calvin, didn’t waste time trying to impress me. The others liked to talk about themselves and their accomplishments. A lot. Sure, they noticed the differences eventually, but they did what most people do in standard interviews and try to liken the experience back to something they had done. I don’t care about that. Yes, their records helped get them in the door, but their hearts weren’t in it.”

“So, I passed all your tests? I got the internship?” Calvin’s heart started racing.

The Admiral slapped the desk and laughed. “Yes, but I have one final question. How do you feel about interstellar piracy and slavery?” The Admiral stared intently at Calvin with a smirk. This caught Calvin by surprise and his face twisted a little with concern.

“Well, the slavery part is obviously atrocious, but I suppose the piracy is probably a necessity? I thought this wasn’t a military vessel anymore?” Calvin tried to make sense of the question under the current circumstances. The ship had been decommissioned and the Admiral was officially retired, according to what Calvin had researched.

“Spectacular! You passed the final test! If you’ll accept, you will be my intern for the next six cycles.” The Admiral stood up and offered his hand. Calvin stood slowly and shook the Admirals hand. “With that settled, you’ll sign the contract on Therese’s datapad.” He gestured to Therese, who was standing behind Calvin. He nearly jumped out of his suit in surprise. She hadn’t made a sound when she entered the room. She smiled and offered the datapad to him. “See, you did just fine.”

Calvin, through the rollercoaster of emotions and surprises, hesitated in taking the datapad but eventually signed the contract.

“Very good, please sit back down and let’s get to business.” The Admiral snapped his fingers and started gesturing through the air at holographic images floating over his desk.

“Officially, The Last Opportunity is a decommissioned military vessel that was modified into a shipping freighter carrying goods between the Terra Prime and Terra Nova star systems. Unofficially, we’re smugglers.” The Admiral flipped some images around to face Calvin. “We specialize in finding the best deals in products that the various governments and military factions don’t want spreading too much. That’s part of why I tested your observational skills in the simulation. You’re going to help me with researching products, comparing them between the different off-book sources we have so we can make a profit.”

Realizing he really had gotten himself in over his head, Calvin swallowed hard.

And that’s it! Final word count was 1,925.

I’m not sure if I’m supposed to share the judges feedback but it’s all anonymous so I don’t see the harm in doing so, plus I genuinely appreciated and agreed with each judge. This is pulled directly from the email I received with only some minor edits for readability.

WHAT THE JUDGES LIKED ABOUT YOUR STORY –

{2305}  I like the surprising ending; what an interesting place for the interview to end up. That’s a clever sort of interview for the Admiral to do. It makes sense as a way of testing for what he really needs in an intern. And “The Last Opportunity” is a very appropriate name for a military-turned-pirate vessel.  

{2089}  There’s a fun sense of comedic mundanity to this piece. We think of sci-fi smugglers as cool Han Solo or Mal Reynolds types — loveable rogues swashbuckling around the universe. But you give us something more real, here — comparative shopping, quotas, profits, etc. — it’s funny, it’s grounded, it makes more sense than most smuggler tropes we see in sci-fi. It feels like you’ve transported something mundane and everyday to space, providing us with a fresh insight for the genre. I love some of the details of the piece — the strange wooden door and the simulated bazaar are standouts — but its the human elements that work best. The relatable nerves of an interview. The overcocky applicants putting Calvin on edge. The emotionless Therese. All great observations, and, again, everyday elements transcended into a sci-fi setting. Overall, I really like your vision for sci-fi — it feels real, lived-in, human. Gone are aliens and space battles — instead, we have genuine human emotion and reaction, real-life setups, and real-life payoffs. 

{2133}  The premise of this unconventional interviewing process was nicely set up. The details of the interviewees were helpful in establishing the scene. And the main character, Calvin, had a nice level of interiority and self-awareness that made the narrative engaging.

WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK –

{2305}  The beginning isn’t clear who the point-of-view character is going to be. I’d suggest starting with Calvin, not the Admiral. Even just saying that he’s the one hearing those clicking footsteps would help. And there are a couple other spots where the POV wavers a bit from things that Calvin would know, like when we learn that the Admiral developed his attention-getting throat clearing in the military, and when we hear that the other candidates think it’s weird that the others haven’t left. Speaking of which, an explanation for that would be grand. Did they walk the futuristic plank, or get teleported back to dock? You’ve got enough wordcount left to explain it.  

{2089}  Firstly, minor note, but do we need the word ‘sounds’ in the opening sentence? Isn’t that implied? Consider if your work is as clear, concise, and direct as possible — I recommend cutting out unnecessary words to help your story flow. Similarly, if you can find a word to replace a phrase, or cut down wordy sentences, do this. ‘out of place and time’ could be ‘anachronistic’, for instance, or even just ‘inexplicable’. ‘an about face move’ — this feels unclear as an action. You also don’t need to repeat the explanation about the door. Don’t repeat — keep your story moving forwards. Why had they forgotten Therese? Does she have little presence? Could you describe her in this instance and add more dimension? Calvin appears to be our ‘in’ to the story — keep him reacting, keep him observing, and keep bringing the narrative back to him. Would the anxious Calvin speak first — ‘what would you like to know?’ or wait to be spoken to, then respond? I think the latter. What happens next? I’d like more of a coda — not just Calvin’s realisation. What does he do? Any character development? Does he weigh up his options? Does he take the job? 

{2133}  There could have been a few more scene-setting details once Calvin enters the interview and the bazaar appears. For instance, explaining that the merchants were holographic would have helped set up the surreal nature of the experience for Calvin. Finally, the last line of the story is a bit flat. The same sentiment could be shown by having Calvin swallow hard and then have a bit of interiority about what the ramifications of having “gotten himself in over his head” really means.

If you’ve taken the time to read all the way through this post, thank you! If you also would like to leave some constructive feedback then please do.

There was an attempt: a writing contest

A couple months ago I saw an ad on Facebook for a writing contest with cash prizes and writing feedback for all entrants, and since I’ve been on this journey of getting back into writing consistently, I thought I might give it a try. I was a little suspicious of how they were going to afford cash prizes until I saw there was an entry fee, but that only made me more suspicious of the whole thing. Was it actually a scam? Unfortunately, at the time, the deadline for signing up was only a day or two away and I knew nothing of writing contests so I had to do some quick research.

Thankfully this particular contest appeared reputable with a long history, so I signed up.

Anyways, the contest itself, through NYC Midnight, was for writing short stories. According to the rules there would be four rounds, and each entrant would have a limited amount of time to write based on a randomly selected prompt setup, of which the final output would be judged and a certain number from each group would move on. The rules also stated that we couldn’t publicly share our work until ten days after results for the round were announced. So, I won’t be sharing my round one entry here just yet.

Sadly, I did not pass round one, and now I’m just waiting for feedback. Cash prizes aside, that was a big draw for me to sign up, so I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of feedback I get on my writing.

I’m always looking to improve, so I’m not going to let this loss discourage me from continuing to write. Once I get my feedback and the ten days have passed I plan on sharing my one short story here, and then maybe you all can also provide some feedback!

We’ll see where things go from here.